Sally Parker was repeating the two words when she got out of bed. They sounded strange and unfamiliar, tripping off her tongue with an ululating sound that was almost a parody of children playing games.
"Lobby Logic," she said. "Lobby Logic."
Looking at her reflection in the glass over her mirror, she saw a well-formed girl wearing bra and panties. Jutting firm breasts strained firmly against the bra containing them. Her belly looked soft and inviting, swelling gently over the brief panties. Her thighs were round and firmly packed, and her brilliant blue eyes followed them down to the long graceful lines of her legs. She half-turned to see her slender shoulders and back curving in to her narrow waist and then flaring out to her rounded buttocks. There was nothing juvenile about her image in the glass. She knew she attracted attention from all who saw her, whether in motion or still. The gamin quality was there in her face, something audacious, fresh and sparkling.
It's only the name of the place, she reminded herself.
Lobby Logic.
It was the name of a local foundation with its singular purpose that of aiding the consumer, the public at large, the man in the street, the housewife bedevilled by rising costs, and all befuddled by the entrapments of living. Quality merchandise that didn't work. Service that goaded them to insane rages. Quantity that varied with each purchase. Prices that seemed arranged and designed to be hopelessly out of sight. Shortages which seemed to exist for no other reason than to increase product prices, making the rare out what was in other times the commonplace.
Lobby Logic was formed to combat these ills. It was new and a growing force, aligned with the ill-equipped public in its fight for survival. The man who headed it and gave it the spark and dimension it needed was a brilliant young lawyer.
Sally mouthed his name now as she adjusted her dress and applied lipstick. Brian Barton. Brian Barton.
Lobby Logic and Brian Barton. Without one, there could not have been the other. They were inseparably linked in time and purpose. And she reminded herself happily, she was now employed by the same organization, given a chance to help this philanthropic cause in its one-sided fight. But also, she knew it gave her a chance to see the man whose every move reminded her of a knight.
Her boss. Brian Barton.
Sighing, she turned from the mirror, picked up her purse and hurried from her apartment to go to work.
Driving downtown in her car, she had ample time to reflect on the strange quirk of destiny that had led her from her avowed path of a dedicated social worker, dealing with individuals, to her present position of secretary for the Lobby Logic foundation which concerned itself with millions of people daily.
It was the individual, she had found out, who was the most dangerous. Young and innocent, fresh out of college, her training in sociology had not prepared her for the odd human whom she had sought to help, who too often tried to help himself instead to what-ever he could attain of Sally Parker.
The poverty areas contained great numbers of the destitute 'and she had been obliged to call on as many as she could each day. Her office in San Francisco was a focal point for many and her calls were a routine follow-up pursued by office policy with herself as one of their many social investigators.
Brushing her dark hair back now as she rode the freeway, she recalled the last encounter. The man of the household was unemployed. His wife had a night job and when Sally called early one morning, the man had opened the door to let her in. Hardly a moment. elapsed before he was at her.
All she had asked, she recalled, was the nominally abstract question: "How are you feeling today, Mr. Brown?"
The husky man had thought it over briefly. Then, to her surprise, he had yanked her forward. One arm went around her back and grabbed at her buttocks. The other thrust up inside and a powerful hand was at her breasts.
"This is the way I like to feel," he said laconically. "One hand holding a nice young tit, the other, grabbing a good solid piece of ass."
She tried to pull away. He was too strong and he smiled as he held her pinned tightly to him with his left hand on her buttock while his right boldly stroked and squeezed her breasts. His hand was so large that he was able to fondle both her breasts simultaneously. Then, while she gasped in helpless horror, he opened the buttons of her blouse and slipped his big hand inside. Her breasts were pulled out and roughly raped by his rough hand, and to still her protest he ducked his head and fastened his hot mouth on hers.
Sally was squirming then, trying to break out of his embrace when he suddenly shifted his hands. With one powerful sudden movement, they went to her shoulders and he had her blouse thrust back off her shoulders. Quickly, he followed up by unsnapping her bra and then both her breasts were free and naked in his huge hands.
She drew her head back to scream and quickly he put one hand to her throat. The threat to her life made her gasp and she subsided weakly. "That's smarter," he said grinning. "Now let's both of us try to have some fun outta this visit,. and don't make any noise or I'll have to break your pretty neck."
He squeezed and massaged her breasts, letting his rough hands rasp across her pink nipples. To her horror and dismay she felt them keening erect under his knowing fingers.
This is ridiculous, she thought, struggling silently and helplessly in the man's grasp. I'm only here on an official call to help this man secure employment or welfare benefits. Why is he taking advantage of me?
Feeling the hard thrust originating between his legs, she knew the reason. If she needed more, she could scent his animal passion rising, his beer breath, feel his hungry hands kneading her soft flesh, squeezing her breasts, pulling at her nipples.
And now, to her dismay and chagrin, she was responding like any animal in heat. Her breasts warmed by his grasping hands, her nipples erecting, the juices in her loins beginning to loosen, moistening her vagina precipitously. Her legs began to tremble and she could feel her heart hammering in her fear.
She should have checked first, she knew. Ascertained at what. hour his wife left for work. She had read the report and only knew the surface statistics: Husband, unemployed; wife, part-time work; no children.
The reports weren't nearly enough, she thought fiercely. They didn't go into irrational behavior, the sudden danger of. aroused lust. Were there neighbors? she wondered. And if so, on this squalid block in the poverty area of the city, how could she call them for help; and further, would they respond? No, she thought hopelessly, nobody would interfere. They would say I walked willingly into the man's house. That I'm no child and should have known better.
The man's name was Luke Brown, his age listed as forty. Nearly double her age and she had no way of dealing with him except on his own terms. Whatever they were, she could only hope they were not brutal. Obviously he was a sexual maniac and she had covered the subject of rogue males in her college courses on abnormal behavior. There were too many case histories for her to remember in detail, but the dominant pattern running through them all was gratification to be secured at any cost.
Sally felt herself being forced steadily back now until she felt something hard at the back of her knees. She knew it to be the sofa only microseconds before she was thrust backward. His hands forced her shoulders down and she was sitting suddenly pinned directly in front of him. His next movement was not as fast but she saw his fingers working at his pants zipper. Almost hypnotized, she watched his big hairy hand disappear inside the cloth and when it reappeared it was holding something huge and thick, and she could scent the acrid pungency of his penis close now to her face.
One hand was at the back of her head now clutching her hair. Inexorably she was forced forward until his hard organ brushed her skin. It felt hot, burning, shaming her.
"You know what I want," he growled hoarsely. "Open your mouth and start sucking. You're supposed to be a social worker, right? Well, get to work and suck my cock. Let's go."
She had no choice but to do as he said, she knew. He was too strong for her to fight. If she resisted, her life could be in danger.
Sally could only hope to satisfy him now, hope to do the job he wanted performed, suck and lick at his awesomely huge appendage in some proficient manner so that he would orgasm. After that, she supposed, his lust would be diminished, and there was the chance he would let her go.
His hand at the back of her head gave her no choice now, forcing her to do his bidding. She opened her mouth and her tongue flicked out to lick his penile shaft. She heard him groan with pleasure and he thrust closer to her, inserting more of his penis into her mouth. His coronal ridge was thick and she felt it against the roof of her mouth. Her lips tightened as she slid her mouth along his glans. She felt him stiffen and quiver and thought she was pleasing him now.
"Come on," he said roughly. "Do a good job now. Hold my balls, too. Didn't they teach you nothin' in college?"
His free hand loosened his shorts and he thrust his testicles forward and at the same time grabbed her hand and forced it around his scrotum. She felt the huge ball of his ravenous manhood and squeezed, and he patted the back of her head.
"That's the way. Now go on. Suck. Eat my cock."
Numbly, she continued sucking, taking more and more of his distended and engorged organ deep into her mouth. At the same ;time, she played with his balls, feeling his left one slightly lower than his right. As he gasped, she was appalled to find herself becoming excited, liking what she was doing.
There was no way she could avoid becoming caught up now in her lascivious performance. She took more and more of. his cock into her mouth and gently squeezed his testicles, feeling them. heavy, huge in her hand. She raised the other hand now to hold his penis, using both hands as she stimulated him to further excitement, feeling herself moistening more and more with each thrust.
His free hand now caressed her breast, rubbing roughly against her skin, enflaming her unwanted but aroused passion. Her head dipped forward and back as she sucked, her lips tightening to complete each thrust, loosening slightly to begin the return glide. Her legs felt weak, trembling as she sensed his approaching orgasm.
Brown was breathing harder. His legs became stiff and his muscles were like thick logs. The organ in her mouth became thicker too, enlarging second by second until it almost strangled her, filling her throat with its questing hard passion.
Suddenly as her tongue flicked to the top of it, finding the very sensitive urethral meatus, he groaned and she felt the hot jetlike force of his juices flooding her throat. He held her pinned against his pulsating organ as he came in a series of long hard thrusts, each one penetrating deeper until she thought she would choke.
Then she was sucking at the wetness of his penis and she realized suddenly her act was unbidden. She had come to it naturally, caught up in .her own lust!
He groaned his pleasure. "That'ta girl. Suck me off!"
She licked his penis head, the glans and shaft clean of the glistening semen, and then his hand was at her throat and she knew what was expected of her. She swallowed hard, feeling it go smoothly down her throat, like some kind of thick chalky milk, and felt him pat her head again as if in approval.
Sally was finished then and looked up at him expecting tp see him pacified and amenable to reason. Instead she saw the hot glow in his eyes as they widened, understanding what she was thinking.
"Oh, it ain't over yet, kid," he said, smiling. "You got to have a nice sweet pussy at your age, and I'd be a real dope to pass up a chance at it now, especially when I got you all heated up and steaming."
Her mouth gaped and she struggled to find the words she needed to get free. But his huge weight was suddenly upon her. She felt herself pushed flat on the sofa and then he was at her, his hot hands under her skirt, pulling at her panties. He got them down only a few inches as she squirmed and then his hand seized her mound. His fingers squeezed at her vulva, slipped inside her labial lips and she felt herself moistening in his hand.
Brown pulled her panties off then, roughly, and spread her legs wide. She was not surprised at his next movement when his head dipped and his hot mouth pressed against her love spot. She heard him sigh with satisfaction. "Ah! Juicy!"
Dimly she heard herself sigh against her will as his mouth and tongue found her erogenous surfaces, questing with his tongue against her vaginal orifice, then slipping to her clitoral glans. She groaned and rocked as he licked and ate at her private parts, and he held her tighter and pressed his face deeper inside her soft white thighs. She began to feel thrills cascading throughout her body. Her vagina became hot and moist and demanding and she moved her hips and began to moan as the demanding man moved, closer and laved at her vulva.
One hand reached underneath her buttocks and played with her anal crevice and when his finger inserted itself, she felt undeniable pleasure. Her loins were glistening now with perspiration and she found herself gradually becoming overpowered by her rising erotic sensations.
She felt the tide build up inside her and then as it burst, she clutched helplessly at his head and held him fast to her, looping her legs outward and around him. Trapped inside her lovely thighs, the man sucked and licked at her as Sally's orgasms rocked her with shattering force. She cried out as she spasmed convulsively, and then again; and when she was sated, she lay still, quivering helplessly.
"Not bad," the man grunted. "I can see you ain't the cold type of bitch they usually send around. Now turn over, kid. I got another surprise for ya you'll like."
"Oh, please!" she cried. "Must we, Mr. Brown? Haven't you done enough?"
"Are you kidding?" he said derisively. "You think I'm passing up a beautiful piece of ass like you? I'd have to be out of my mind."
He rolled her over as easily as if she were a child. Protesting would do her little good, she knew, and so she merely lay limp, letting herself. be manipulated. She was frightened now, but curious too. That was the trouble.
Sally remembered growing up with her brother Larry and the things Larry had persuaded her to do while they were both young. The harmless sex play of innocents, she had often said when recalling them to mind. They had found the time for these adventures after school when their parents were away at work.
Masturbating him. It hadn't taken long for Larry to persuade her to jerk him off. It had been fun really. And it had all stemmed from her own curiosity. Seeing him through the partly open door of the bedroom one afternoon after school, sitting hunched over on his bed, making heavy breathing noises. The strange whap-whapping sound she could not understand. And when she had tiptoed in to make of it what she could, he was already at the finishing stages, coming in fascinating spurting gobs all over the floor.
"What's that you're doing?" she had asked. And that innocent question stemming from ignorance had started it all.
Her brother was fourteen to her eleven, not too much older but enough to make the difference as he had already begun investigating the mystery of his being. She had no such yearning. But under Larry's tutelage and inquiring mind, she had gone past the barriers of her own shyness. He let her pump his dick for a long time, teaching her the many ways he already knew to get the best out of the hand job. She had proved an apt pupil, and after having done him in all the possible ways, she was induced to let him do her.
At first, he had played around her little box with his hand and fingered her. She had been amazed at the strange sensations that resulted. And when at last Larry had been able to bring her to her first clitoral climax, she had wept with the sheer ecstasy of the experience.
They rolled together on the large bed for hours after school stark naked. One day she permitted him to kiss her "down there" and from. that time on, it had become the first part of their daily ritual of lovemaking. He had kissed and sucked her into too many orgasms eventually for her to deny him the equal pleasure of sucking him off. And from that first head job on her brother, she had learned all she ever ' needed to know to make any man happy. He had come into her mouth in time, although she had been afraid of that at first, since, to her untutored mind, that alone would have made her pregnant. She had been persuaded in time that this was an ignorant notion, and from that point on she had developed her skill as an accomplished cocksucker.
By the time she was thirteen, Sally had tried all the positions with her brother, save one. The one Luke Brown was introducing her to now this morning in the morning light of his living room in a shabby house on Del Amo Street in San Francisco.
It was the one position she had resisted doing with her older brother. They had struggled on the bed while he had tried to overcome her, and penetrate her from the rear. But she had always been able to twist away in time and his long thin rod had been wasted. Fretfully, he would then mount her and slide it along the valley of her smooth buttocks to come eventually outside her. Dry fucking, Larry called that. But although he had been able to insert his penis from the rear position, it had only been into the usual jelly box of her vagina where it had. for these formative tender years found a receptive and warm home.
Now when this rough stranger had rolled her over, her first instinct to struggle and shy away was suddenly tempered, by the thought that perhaps with this new experience, she would at last know the mystery of the rear penetration.
"I'll give ya a break," Brown said. "I'll smear some Vaseline on it so it won't hurt."
She grimaced as she lay waiting, dreading the pain she had always expected. But the dark submerged part of her was excited in anticipation. Larry had never suggested Vaseline. Apparently Brown was no beginner to this method and she would get the benefit of his experience.
She did cry out once when he first penetrated her with his huge organ, but Brown was quick about grabbing her breasts and fondling them roughly from the rear, making her forget the initial searing pain of his thrust.
He played more with her breasts lulling her off guard, not moving inside any deeper, and then when she was used to the strange, comforting fullness of his distended cock inside her ass, he reared back and plunged the shaft in hard.
She screamed but then he began pumping quickly, and as she felt his huge engorged organ massage her inner walls, she became lost in the pleasure and excitement of it. The thought of being buggered now by a complete stranger also somehow added its strange erotic appeal. It was a little like being raped, she thought, although she had to admit she was now a willing participant. "
Then as the man rammed her harder and harder from the rear, she found herself caught in the movement and began to move her hips and buttocks against his cock and balls to get the utmost out of the situation. She loved backing up against his body, feeling his balls flap as she hit them, and then the huge thickness of his prick was there to fill her deeper and deeper with ever lengthening thrusts until finally she heard him gasp.
He began to play with her clit then with one hand, her breast and nipple caught in the other, and then when he suddenly heaved himself upon her and came, she was ready too and began her own bucking writhing movements, groaning her own pleasure.
After that shameless display of her own eroticism, she could deny this rough stranger nothing that day. When he had finished with the buggering job, he was still alive and ready for more. This time she had helped him maintain his erection, holding . his cock and playing with his balls, and when he was fully erect and thick again, she mounted him as he sat on the edge of the sofa.
Brown held her easily in his hands, gripping her by the full buttocks. He raised her and lowered her down, softly at first and with considerable restraint and gentleness. Then his passion and lust grew stronger and he stood up while still holding her on his cock, and with powerful arms he drew her back and then pulled her close to him. The movements increased ,spasmodically, more urgently, and each time she was bounced hard upon his ramrod cock, she experienced new thrills. She was ready when he was and came in convulsive bursts that wracked her body.
Sally remembered dressing later, too ashamed to wash in his wife's bathroom. It was only when she was at the door ready to go that he shook his head and asked the incredible question. "Hey, I nearly forgot. What did you want here anyway?"
She shook her head now, driving off the freeway. She had a new job and a better one. No more would she be exposed to the lust of strangers.
Nor her own, she thought.
CHAPTER TWO
At nine, she was seated at her desk in the nicely furnished office she used as secretary to Brian Barton. His office, adjacent to hers, was larger but the furnishings were simple and tasteful. Brian Barton was not an ostentatious man. He was a very dedicated public servant, working long grueling hours and sometimes without respite. This morning was one of the few Sally could remember, in the short time she had been with Lobby Logic, that Barton was not already hard at work at his desk when she came in.
His hair was red and worn long but not shaggy: His eyes were a brilliant green and when he was disturbed or angry, they glittered like cold emeralds. His mouth was firm, his teeth white and regular. If it hadn't been for the dented nose he had thoroughly broken playing football at college, he might have been considered almost good-looking.
But Brian Barton's looks were not important. It was a combination of his brain and fighting instinct. His refusal to give in to trying, impossible circumstances.
It was an almost incredible series of circumstances that landed Sally into her position as Barton's secretary. His regular girl, after having been with him for five years, got married and quit. Her replacement was a sincerely dedicated girl but thin and high strung. Too much pressure, working overtime to keep up to advanced schedules, broke her delicate health, and she was forced to retire to some easier part-time job in the desert area near Palm Springs. Sally, who had left San Francisco for Los Angeles the year before and landed a job in the secretary pool, was handy one day near closing time when extra work was needed.
"I'll do it and get it done in time," she had assured Barton. And when she had appeared with the thick sheaf of correspondence in her hands at the appointed hour, Barton had been impressed and grateful.
He explained his pressing need for a secretary who had no outside ties, who could work late when the situation demanded it, and one who was close-mouthed. There were secrets, he explained, about his organization, and too many people were only too anxious to find out what Lobby Logic was about next. He explained the strange work of his foundation, factors she had known or cared little about when she had first applied for work. When she learned how dedicated Barton was, how difficult his task was to project the public interest from the ruthless overlords of some unscrupulous organizations, she wholeheartedly gave of herself to him.
She had felt lost and powerless as a social worker, feeling herself a mere dot lost in seething masses of humanity. She had encountered those who needed help and yet due to some legal defects in the welfare machinery, she had been unable to help them. On the other hand, she had known of many who did not honestly deserve welfare payments and yet through cunning and deceptive practices had managed to achieve regular income from the state. Her last brush with the coarseness of the sullen man who had assaulted her in his own home had frightened her. It had not taken her long after that, once she had made up her mind that she was doing nobody any good, that she reluctantly left the hills and brisk winds of San Francisco for the more temperate climate of Los. Angeles. Sally also thought it a prudent move to prevent succumbing to libidinous temptations in the future; at least, on the job.
With Barton and the ideas behind the organization that spelled Lobby Logic, she found herself part of a driving force. She started each day with zest and confidence, knowing that each day's work meant something, was never wasted. The lanky redhead Barton had been a lawyer and used that part of his back-ground efficiently. He had a strange almost mystical power of persuasion. Perhaps, she thought, it was due to his inflexible honesty. He was rigid in that respect, almost old-fashioned in his concepts when compared to the chicaneries of the current business world. Yet it was that same unflinching honesty and candor that had attracted help from many old-fashioned and wealthy people.
In turn, they had recruited other diligent people to join Barton's staff. They were few in numbers, but they were sincere and intelligent, and all attracted to the unswerving and uncompromising honesty of Barton and his single-minded pursuit of his aims.
There were other secretaries, other lawyers, a whole team of young research people, young urgency-minded loyal men and women who willingly gave over their personal lives to help Barton "stick it to them."
They had found certain government offices guilty of carelessness in assessing supposedly reputable products. Barton had instituted suit against them and won. He had uncovered evidence of malfeasance in office, and producing evidence again in court, had won and seen himself vindicated and the crooks evicted.
Government was huge and sprawling and almost impossible to supervise. There were simply too many offices that somehow duplicated one anther's work. Too many incompetents who had been hired because of, political loyalties and the rewards given them were supposedly for helping to raise funds for office seekers. It was an old and familiar story in government, and the country was riddled with these fat cats who did nothing to justify their offices and responsibility to the public.
Barton was trying to change it all. To rid the political world of the fakers and crooks and incompetents. It seemed an impossible joust, but like a knight he accepted the challenge.
Yet, careful and intelligent as Brian Barton was, he had been guilty of one error of judgment that he could not erase; an error that would hang around his neck like a stone, coming back to haunt him at unlikely times. He had married when he was young, fresh out of school. Her name was Emma Worth, and although he did not know it at the time, he was to find out her father was one of the richest, most powerful men in the country. Emma was wealthy in her own right, and due to inherit many more millions. Her father was one of the major stockholders in the oil industry, holding a high executive position with one of the largest companies.
When Brian had found out her ties to big business, he tried to disassociate himself from Emma, knowing already that his path in life would inevitably bring them into conflict. The oil barons were rich fat cats and contemptuous of the public and its environment. George Worth had already aroused some public antagonism with his rape of offshore drilling rights along the California coastline, and it was indeed this desecration of public land that had first launched Brian Barton into action against the ruthless oil barons.
He and Emma were divorced, but she never forgave him for what she deemed the public pillorying of her father. She was to prove herself a deadly and unforgiving enemy, and she had unlimited means with which to pursue her undying vendetta with Brian, seeking to destroy him and his work forever.
She had hired private detectives to spy on him and his work, to follow him constantly, keep him under continual surveillance. Her schooling had been realistic, and under the tutelage of her father and his hirelings, she had formed similar opinions. No man could remain honest and uncorrupt. Somewhere and sometime he would make an error, prove himself as human and fallible as the rest. And when Brian Barton somehow faltered and deviated from the path of honesty and scrupulousness he had chosen, Emma Worth would have the proof with which to humble him and bring him to his knees. The fact that he had willingly given her up, despite her wealth and considerable good looks, was added fuel for the avenging fire burning in her. He had dumped her as if she were a commonplace object, and Emma Worth could never forgive that.
Every day she sent out her hired operatives to make their regular rounds sniffing at Barton's trail, and like bloodhounds they followed him scenting for whatever they could uncover. Their reports came in daily and Emma's files grew to lodge .in more and more filing cabinets. So far they had uncovered nothing of the "people's defender," but Emma calmly waited knowing the expose was inevitable, that every man could be tempted to err, and that time was on her side.
Her force of private investigators was expanded. The 20 odd volunteers who worked for Barton were followed too,, and sometimes approached. If Barton had secrets, Emma knew, his people might reveal them for a price. There also were other ways she knew of to extort information.
The interoffice phone rang in Sally's room. It was the receptionist at the front desk, Gail Trell.
"Yes, Gail," Sally said. "What is it?"
"A man here to see Mr. Barton. He says it's important that he see him immediately."
"Did you tell him Mr. Barton is not in yet, Gail?"
"I did, but I wasn't sure. You know how often he gets into his office, to work before I'm even at my desk."
"Yes, and before me too, but I looked a while ago and he's not in. I imagine he'll call in. soon if he expects to be delayed much longer. Ask the man if he cares to wait or leave a number for Mr. Barton to call."
"Just a sec," Gail said. In another moment, she came back on. "He says this is too important to wait on. If he can't see Mr. Barton perhaps he could see you? He won't tell me what it's about, Sally."
"Hm. I suppose I could see him and relay his message to Brian. 'What's the. caller's name?"
"Andrew Hocking."
"Very well, Gail. Send him into my office."
She hung up hoping this was an important matter for Brian's attention. There was no precedent in matters such as these. She knew she was required to use her own beat judgment. If a caller professed urgent business, then it made sense to see him in her capacity as private secretary. If the caller went away rebuffed, perhaps information he had to leave would be forever lost.
A knock sounded at her door and it was opened. A husky light-haired man stood hulking in the doorway. Sally waved him in. "Mr. Hocking? I'm Sally Parker, Mr. Barton's secretary. Won't you come in and tell me what this is all about."
He nodded gratefully and shut the door carefully behind him. He carried an attach� case in one hand and approached her desk smiling, his free hand extended. "Miss Parker? Awfully nice of you to see me. I've been sitting outside cooling my heels. I know what I have will interest Mr. Barton."
"He's really not in, Mr. Hocking, as you can see." She waved to Barton's office across the room from. hers, its door halfway open. The empty desk was clearly visible from their positions, but to her surprise the large blond man walked across the room, stepped across the threshold and stopped. He leaned inside craning his head.
Sally felt annoyance for the man doubting her. "Are you quite satisfied?" she said. "I can assure you Mr. Barton isn't hiding under the rug."
The man stepped back, smiling, a rueful expression softening his hard professional look. "Sorry. It wasn't that I didn't take your word, Miss Parker. But in my line of work we don't leave anything open to chance. Everything must be done by the individual to offset the laws of probability. In other words, I just had to see for myself."
Sally smiled. "All right. Now can you tell me what this is all about? I assure you I'll bring it to Mr. Barton's immediate attention."
The man stood at the other end of her desk, looking down at her, frowning. "You still expecting him?"
Sally shrugged. "Any moment. I don't know what has delayed him this morning. But I would imagine that if he isn't here soon, that he'll call in and say when he will be."
The man stood undecided, thinking, shaking his head.
"Can't you tell me what it's about?" Sally said.
He hesitated. "That's the trouble. I'm not sure." He tapped his black attach� case several times. "This is awfully confidential. I'm just not sure if it would be safe to leave it with you."
"That would be entirely up to you," Sally said. "All I can tell you is that it would be safe to the best of my ability. If you like, I could lock it in my desk drawer, or in the file cabinet."
He chewed at his lip, thinking over her offer. "How about locking it in Barton's desk?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I'm really sorry but his desk is private. He holds the only key."
The man looked` surprised. "You mean to tell me that you're Barton's private secretary and that you don't have a spare key to his desk?"
Sally nodded, reddening. "It's not that he doesn't trust me. It's office procedure."
The blond man grinned. "Sure. I understand. I hear Barton runs a tight ship here."
Sally nodded. "That's why people trust him. Now then, if you could tell me what this visit is all about, sir?"
He looked down at the attach� case on the desk and said suddenly, "Well, guess there's nothing else to do about it then but give it to you. I would have preferred dealing with Mr. Barton directly, you understand?"
"Yea. Again, I'm sorry."
"Okay." He turned the attach� case around with the front opening facing her. His big hands went to the metal clasps. She leaned forward curious about what the man was going to show her. The metal snaps released the lock and the case opened. She was inches away from it when suddenly released fumes assaulted her nostrils. She saw Hocking mistily as the white cloud clung to her face. He had taken a step back and was holding a handkerchief to his face. Curious, she shook her head.
Something went off somewhere inside her skull and she felt herself suddenly weak as if beginning to dissolve. Her head swam. She tried to say something but her throat was tight, constricted, unable to utter a sound. The fumes had a strange heavy odor, a sweet scented fragrance that she could not recognize. Her hands fell from the desk and she swayed dizzily on her chair.
Numbly she watched the man suddenly take something from his pocket. He put it to his eye and aimed it. She thought she heard a click but wasn't certain. He made the snapping sound again and nodded as if satisfied. Then quickly he leaned across the desk to close the attach� case. Again she looked up at him puzzled, wondering what was happening, feeling herself frozen, locked in her chair, unable to move or make a sound.
The blond man walked around her desk. He was at her side then, and dumbly she watched him lean over her. His hand was doing something to her dress and then she saw that he had opened the zipper at the back and was pulling it down over her shoulders. He stopped to take a picture. Then he was near her again. She heard a faint snapping sound behind her and then the rustling of cloth against her skin. He was aiming his little camera again and she followed the angle of his aim and was shocked to see that her bra was gone, that her breasts were totally exposed and there was nothing she could do about it.
She wanted to scream out, to get him out, but her brain was slow and sluggish. He took several more pictures of her sitting there with her naked breasts and then he stepped to her side again. She saw his hand drop to the front of his trousers. His thick fingers disappeared for a brief moment and when she saw them again they were holding something thick and long and pink-looking. She blinked and somehow it was in her hand.
A part of her mind detached itself and told her that this was wrong. She felt it pulsing in her hand, becoming heavy and turgid. She looked dumbly at the organ, and then up again at her visitor and was surprised to see him with the bright metal object screwed in front of his eye again. Once more she heard the snapping sound and saw his fingers move up and down slowly.
The man nodded and then moved clear. She never saw his hand descend but felt her head moved forward. She was powerless to resist and she was moved inexorably closer to the big thing he had protruding from the front of his opened pants. The man hit her with the palm of his hand across her mouth. Dumbly she opened it to complain and then somehow her face was forced forward again and this shocking big red thing was in her mouth.
From far overhead she heard the snapping sound again. She wanted to move away from this strange thing filling her mouth but didn't know exactly why. It felt soft and yet had a warm hardness about it. Instinctively she ran her tongue along it trying to find her swollen lips and she heard the snapping sound again. The thing in her mouth wavered for a moment, then was drawn back and thrust forward deeper into her mouth. She thought she was being strangled by some heavy object but yet somehow her throat was able to adjust and to contain it. The movement of it in her mouth became hurried and the thrusts deeper. She felt a hand at her breasts but could not look up.
Then her head was grasped firmly and she felt the long thick object inside her mouth suddenly thrust its deepest. At the same time, something hot and liquid jetted inside her mouth. She tasted it and it seemed familiar. Something wet and soft with a strange odor and texture and she wondered dimly what it was. A man sounded as if he were groaning.
Then it was out of her mouth and she was being forced to bob her head and to lick at it with her mouth and tongue. She heard the snapping clicks again.
Then she was suddenly jerked out of her chair and she felt herself being carried across the room. Her skirt was lifted and she felt the chill, morning air at her private parts between her legs.
When. she found herself sitting again, she noticed with great surprise that she was not at her desk any more. This was another desk and she was sitting on it, and as she stared surprised, she noticed without reacting that her skirt was above her hips and her panties were gone: She stared stupidly down at her bushy mound and felt her legs being pulled apart. She looked up puzzled and saw the blond man again. He was stooping forward and holding that thing in front of his eye again.
This isn't my office, something inside her said. This is Brian's office. I'm not supposed to be sitting here on his desk and especially not with my bare ass on it.
The glass surface felt cold on her akin and she wondered what she was doing there.
The blond man took several more pictures and then she was sitting in a chair that did not seem to be hers. Again the man took the thick thing out of his trousers and put it into her mouth. She was forced to hold still while he made the snapping sounds again. Then he made her suck at it again and she felt it growing bigger once more and hardening in her mouth.
Sally was wondering if it was all going to happen again and if it would spurt and make that strange' softness in her mouth again, when suddenly she felt it jerk inside her mouth.
She looked up and saw the man suddenly turn and look over his shoulder. Behind him, she saw a tall angular man with red hair and blazing green eyes. The man looked very familiar but she couldn't recall his name.
The redheaded man reached out and grabbed the blond man by one arm and swung him aside. She saw the redheaded man who looked familiar draw one arm back. When it came forward it came with lightning speed. It wets too fast for her to see but she heard the sickening crunch as it landed, and then the big blond man was hurtling across the room with a strange expression on his face. The redheaded man came after him again and picked him up and slammed him against the wall.
The blond man sagged and something hit him squarely in the face with a splatting sound and red stuff poured in a thick stream from his nose.
Then Barton was shaking her, asking her what happened, telling her to pull herself together, opening. windows.
He was at the small basin in his private bathroom getting water for a compress for her head when the blond man got off the floor. He staggered to his feet, looked wildly and dazedly around, and then lurched out of the room. She heard the sound of running feet and the slamming of doors and voices raised.
When she recovered, Barton had finished buttoning her dress. She looked down and saw with surprise her bra in his hand. He stared, looked embarrassed and finally grinned.
"Sorry, Sally, but I didn't have the guts to put it back on myself. Was afraid you might come to suddenly and wonder what your friendly boss was up to."
He had given her a drink to bring her to and suddenly it all passed again through her mind. She shook her head dazed.
His hand comforted her. "Something in his attach� case drugged you. An army nerve gas. It was easy for him then to strip you, have you do whatever he wanted so he could take his pictures."
"Pictures?" she echoed dazed.
Barton nodded. "Some kind of photographic evidence to be used against me. Showing how I treat my office help to free sex during office hours. I imagine Emma sent him."
She stared up at him shame-faced.
CHAPTER THREE
"Hocking used to be a good man for the CIA," Brian told her later. "He got busted for too many raw undercover acts; like this one, for example. Since then, he's done work for a lot of companies, breaking and entering, illegal things. All under the guise of securing evidence of the nature his employer needs. He's used a variety of other names, too. He's been caught before however, and he'll be caught up with again. And if I ever get my hands on him again --"
Brian crashed one fist into the other, leaving no doubt in Sally's mind as to his future intentions toward the agent Emma had sent. She questioned Brian's certainty in this matter. "Oh, sure," he said. "It has to be Emma. Who else but somebody with her kind of twisted mind would hire a man like Hocking who has no moral sense at all. He's a cheap predator and it takes another like him to get the whole thing rolling."
Her face flushed. She couldn't be sure exactly what Brian had seen when he entered his office earlier.
Expecting to be judged and scolded by Brian for what had occurred, she was surprised to find him apologetic instead.
"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am this happened to you," he said falteringly. "I should have warned you that Emma would stop at nothing to ruin me, and even if I had, you would never have imagined something of this nature would have taken place.
"We can't afford security guards here," he continued, "and I couldn't blame you if you wanted to leave after this nasty affair. I'm only grateful that you haven't been hurt physically and I can only hope that it hasn't been too bad for you traumatically."
"I'll get over it, I suppose," she said.
"Yes, I'm sure you will," he said. "But. it's very bad for me when somebody working for my office has to pay for my personal creed. I can't guarantee you that this won't happen again. In fact, it would be safer to assume that it will happen, over and again. In many different ways, ways that are really unpredictable, Sally. You'll simply have to be on your guard at all times if you want to keep working for me. That means, at your own home as well as here."
Brian began to pace the room. "They want incriminating evidence against me, something to weaken my image with the public. They'll try to use the pictures Hocking took, perhaps superimpose other shots of my office to make it appear you and I were having a sexual orgy."
He spoke with her a while longer, trying to get her anxieties allayed. "I never should have let him get away," he said.
But she remembered that Hocking had managed to get off the floor and run out only because Brian had gone to the washroom for the compress for her. His first thought had been to protect her. Perhaps a more callous or brutal man would have gone for Hocking's throat at the expense of the victim. She managed to say finally, "It wasn't your fault for letting him get away. It was mine for letting him fool me into sticking my nose into that attach� case when he opened it. Naturally I never expected anything like a cylinder of gas exploding."
Brian said soothingly, "Of course not. Nobody would."
She wanted to ask him exactly what he had seen when he came in. Her memory was vague but she had a general idea of what Hocking had been up to. She remembered that Brian had zipped her dress up and later handed her her bra. She had also remembered the cool glass of hills. desk top against her bare skin. Her panties were lying on the floor against his chair and she wondered if Brian would have tried to slip them on her if she hadn't grabbed for them first when she recovered.
Perhaps he had seen them lying there and could not bring himself to do anything about it. It would have been too personal for Brian Barton to venture.
How would all this affect their relationship? she had to wonder. Brian couldn't afford a scandal, that was obvious. Would he permit her to continue working as his personal secretary now that he knew how easily she could be fooled and coerced into dangerous sexual attitudes?
Her mind flew back to another time.
Uncle Ed was her mother's brother, a big burly man with a hearty laugh and a tremendous appetite. She remembered his capacity for food when he visited them, and how he astonished her family with it. Uncle Ed was good-natured, fun to be with, and he always brought presents whenever he came to town.
Then there was the time when she was twelve, and she was alone in the house doing her homework. Larry her brother was off somewhere playing ball after school. Her mother had gone to a meeting. Her dad was off at the plant. The doorbell rang and when she opened the door she was surprised to see the big genial man standing there, suitcase in one hand.
She let him in, greeted him with her usual show of affection, kissing him lightly. He gave her his customary bear hug, holding her tightly, laughing while he rumpled her hair, patting her plump back-side.
He set the suitcase down in the living room. "Where is everybody?" he asked.
She explained and when he looked disappointed, she said they all would be home in a few hours. Uncle Ed looked at his watch, shook his head, and said he should have phoned.
Seemingly distracted, he wandered around the house. She went back to her homework and when he came downstairs again, he came closer to watch her. He stood silently over her for a while and she wondered if older men like Uncle Ed had anything against the short miniskirt she was wearing.
"Hey, you're growing up," he said laughing and she smiled, not sure of what he meant.
She remembered having trouble that day with her math and when she frowned, Uncle Ed asked her what was wrong. When she explained, he laughed easily and said not to worry. He patted the sofa with one hand and told her to sit down and they would work the problem out together.
When she did, Uncle Ed had somehow shifted his position and she found herself sitting on his lap. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, trying to jump up.
"It's okay," he said laughing. "Might be better to work it out this way. I can look over your shoulder."
She went back to her problem and found his lap comfortable. His big hands shifted to a position under her knees and once he bounced her up and she gasped in surprise. When she came down again, Uncle Ed's hands were higher on her thighs under her short skirt. He looked studiously down over her shoulder as she made marks with her pencil, and his hands began to stroke her, slipping inside her thighs eventually and going higher and higher. She felt soothed by what he was doing, liking the warmth of his body against hers.
She couldn't remember exactly when his hands shifted to her breasts. He had jiggled her forward playfully and then when she cried out that she was falling, he had reached out to grab her, and his hands went to her breasts and stayed there. He fondled them for a while, and played carelessly with her nipples, laughing heartily each time she jumped when tweaked.
Gradually she became aware of something hard in the middle of Uncle Ed's lap. She tried shifting her position and he would let her, and then roll her back and hold her close.
Then Uncle Ed asked her if she was ticklish and when she said she wasn't sure, he tried to find out. She was out of control within seconds, laughing helplessly at each new sensitive spot he touched. She was rolled helplessly over his lap when suddenly she felt him make a lurching move and the next thing she remembered was being tilted back and Uncle Ed removing her little white panties.
He laughed uproariously. "Mind if ,I try these on?"
She didn't know what to say at first. Then she shrugged. "They'll never fit you, Uncle Ed. They're much too small."
"They are? Well, let's see."
Her eyes widened as he jumped to his feet and loosened his belt. Then he was stepping out of his shoes and his trousers, and finally his shorts. She saw his big thing waving between his heavy legs. It was so much bigger than her brother's, thicker and longer, and his testicles looked enormous. He held her panties up to his front and squinted his little blue eyes.
He shook his head. "Hm, I dunno, Sally. Maybe you're right. Guess you'll have to help me try them on."
When he handed her the panties, she didn't know what he expected her to do. He stepped closer and lifted one leg as if to step into them. But he wavered and lost his balance somehow. He tumbled forward and suddenly she had to reach out to atop him from falling on her. To her surprise, somehow his large thing was in her hand, feeling so heavy and warm.
She felt it pulsing strongly in her hand and looked up at her uncle. He shrugged, smiling. "Come to think of it, I forgot your regular present this trip. I guess this will have to do for now."
He moved back and forth and she felt his penis gliding between her fingers. He winced at one time. Then he touched her lips. "How about that way? Then we can both enjoy your present."
He seemed to take it for granted that she would know what to do. But she was afraid to act as if she had ever done this before and acted shy and uncertain.
Uncle Ed sounded his booming laugh. "Nothing to it, Sally. Just pretend you're sucking and eating a big banana."
That made it easier for her and she went to work at it, licking and sucking, pretending it was indeed a banana, and soon his large penis was distended and filling her hand and mouth.
As her lips slid along his huge glistening staff, her uncle began to nod his head and moan his satisfaction. "Atta girl," he gasped. "You're doing fine. Don't be afraid to let it go all the way in. It's good for your mouth and throat."
She took more of it in and still more, feeling it fill her mouth until it touched at the rear of her throat.
"Good for your tonsils, too," Uncle Ed said.
He placed one of her hands under his huge balls and said that would make it easier. She jiggled them in her hand and he groaned and told her that was the idea and to keep on with her licking and sucking.
She was lost in her young passion for it now and she did as he said, moving her lips obediently along his big cock and feeling it tremble in her mouth, engorged with blood. When he suddenly gasped and came, she couldn't believe the tremendous gob of juice he sent into tier throat. It came at her like a river that had burst its dam and she was knocked back by his lunge.
She thought it would please her uncle if she swallowed it and when she did, he nodded down at her pleased. "Good girl," he said. "A lot of vitamins in that stuff. You'll be healthy now. Good for your teeth and gums, all that calcium, you know."
When she had finished, he sighed contentedly. But his huge staff remained large and erect. He looked down at her.
He reached down for her hand and pulled her up. Then he put both his big hands around her bare ass. She felt his fingers tighten and shivered. Her dress was lifted and his big prick was squarely against her mound now, and she felt herself beginning to moisten between her thighs.
Uncle Ed was, strong. He lifted her easily until her thighs went around his hips. Then he let her down easily and slowly until she felt his prick nuzzling at her vagina. He let her sink upon it slowly, moving her hips in a circular motion until finally she gasped, feeling it solid and hard inside her, like some huge' stick that had somehow invaded her most secret part.
He bounce d her up and down on it then, at first slowly, and then when she had moistened enough with increasing speed. She cried out suddenly when her first orgasm came, taking her by surprise. Uncle Ed nodded and her hands went around his thick neck happily and he stayed with her, bouncing her up and down on his wet shaft until she came again and again.
At her third orgasm, she felt him quiver and then again she felt his jetlike stream rushing into her. They clung to each other as if cemented together, and when he let her down she was dripping between her thighs.
He picked her up again in his arms, holding her easily in a horizontal position. "We better take care of that upstairs, hon. The family might smell what's been going on and spoil all the fun. How about a quick shower?"
It was strange at first showering with her uncle. But he made it fun, soaping her down, caressing her breasts with the soft soapsuds and then her private parts between her legs. When he was done with her, he asked her to do him too and she did as he asked. His huge cock was not as thick or hard at first, now, but as she soaped it under the running water of the shower it grew again to its former tremendous size.
He let her jerk him off this time, meanwhile fondling her breasts and playing with her clit. When he came, she was able to wash it off immediately with the shower water, and then he kept at her with his hand between her thighs and in another moment she orgasmed again.
They stayed in the shower as long as they could and when they came out and dried themselves, Uncle Ed said he had forgotten something.
"What?" she asked simply.
"To eat a little fresh pussy," he said grinning.
He layed her down on the bed in her room and put his mouth between her legs and began to nibble away at her lower lips. She writhed. under his expert touch and then he licked her labia and clitoris. Again she felt the rising tide of her passions too much for her, and she convulsed again in a wrenching orgasm that left her spent. "Wow!" she gasped. "That was really something."
He nodded smiling. "I liked it too. Got to drop around here more often, kid."
She was dressing again when she remembered suddenly the panties she had forgotten downstairs. She rushed down to get them and as she neared the bottom step, she saw with surprise that her brother had come home. He was near the sofa and as she watched, he dipped suddenly and when he stood up he was holding her panties in his hand.
Sally rushed forward then to grab them from him. He relinquished them without a struggle. Then he glanced to the living room floor and he was looking squarely at the large leather suitcase.
Larry grinned. "Uncle Ed here?"
She nodded, unable to speak.
"Seems like he didn't waste much time," Larry said.
Her cheeks flushed. She tossed her head defiantly, not answering.
Larry continued. "How'd you like his cock?"
Again she tossed her hair, not answering.
"Was it bigger than mine?"
She smiled and shook her head, and Larry grinned happily.
"No kidding?" he asked.
"No kidding," she said.
"Well, how about that?" he said proudly.
She let him have his prideful moment and the illusion. There was nothing she could say to explain, and at least by this deceit she managed to deal Larry's lips. He never told his parents about her and Uncle Ed.
But to be on the safe side, she had grabbed at Larry's cock to insure his continuing silence. Although he was still trying to get other girls, she knew that she was still Larry's steady companion in bed. And that even if he did manage to find an occasional girl to lay, she would still be his preference because she could do a better head job on him than almost anybody. And as he himself had admitted one time, he preferred having her suck his cock than anything.
That day he had grinned happily at the thought that his pecker was equal if not superior to that of his big uncle's. He left the house at once, leaving her to dispose of her panties and get Uncle Ed dressed and under control before the rest of the family came home.
It all seemed so long ago.
Now she squinted up at the blazing green eyes of her employer Brian Barton, a grown-up girl and a capable secretary, still with the old problem of how to account for panties on the floor instead of their usual place.
"Did he hurt you?" Brian growled.
She shook her head.
"Well, that's something. Because if he had --"
Again the clenched fist and the pounding of one hand into the other.
"I couldn't think --" she said falteringly. "The gas or drug did something to my head. It was as if I were in a dream, watching it all as a spectator. As if it weren't happening to me."
Brian nodded. "That's the way it works, Sally. It's a form of gas the Nazis intended using, to turn off any populace they had invaded. Nobody would question what they were doing."
"But I don't -- I don't understand the pictures," she said. "What could they do with them? Surely no respectable newspaper would show them?"
"No, they wouldn't. But there are different kinds of publications that like to violate privacy. The confidential type of gossip magazine, for one. They might not use the complete photo, they might crop it somewhere. But they would show the most salacious features, believe me. I have to assume that Hocking had exposed himself too?"
She nodded silently, too humiliated to speak.
"The dirty pig!"
"He probably ... I think ... made me do ... well, other things," she faltered. She was still uncertain of exactly what Brian" had seen when he broke into his office. She was not even sure herself of what she had been doing. Was his penis actually inside her mouth? Had he forced her to suck him off? She began to tremble, knowing the latter thought was indeed true. She could still taste it in her mouth.
Brian pounded his fist against his desk. "But those gossip magazines aren't all that Hocking and Emma have to deal with. They can show the prints to committees, to some people who would be shocked and angry with me."
She reached to touch his hand, contritely. "I'm so sorry. If you want me to, I'll quit. Perhaps that would help you -- somehow."
His eyes narrowed fiercely. "What are you saying, Sally? I need you here. This thing that happened isn't your fault. That's what I've been trying to tell you. It's something that couldn't be avoided. If it hadn't happened here in my office, they would have managed it somehow at your own apartment."
"What good would that do?"
He shrugged his wide shoulders. "They could have got you to do something again that you weren't aware of. And then, it's fairly easy to superimpose pictures nowadays with the techniques available. It would take a skilled person to tell the genuine from the fraud. So please don't blame yourself."
She nodded. "All right" She pushed back her hair. "I guess now that it's all over, I better be getting back to work."
He shook his head. "No way. You're taking the rest of the day off."
"But I can't there's all this work." Her hand went to the stack of correspondence in her work box.
"Forget it," Brain growled. Come on. Get your coat. I'm taking you home."
She protested weakly but he was adamant. The other employees looked at her questioningly when she left with him. But they weren't aware of what had actually happened, and she had no intention of telling them.
"Sally's got a special errand to run for me today," he told Gail, the receptionist. "Give her typing to some of the other girls in the secretarial pool."
When they got downstairs, she remembered she had driven to work in her own car and automatically headed for it. Remembering Brian's offer, she looked up at him.
He laughed. "Show's what a big brain I have. Forgot all about the logistics in that. Okay, then drive yourself home. Better still, I'll go along with you."
"But how will you get back?"
"Take a cab," he said lightly.
He was quiet. on the drive back. At her apartment, he insisted upon ' going in first and checking the premises. He came out smiling. "Okay. Nobody's under your bed."
Then to her surprise, his arms went around her and his lips were on hers. She felt the power in his arms as they swept her tightly to him. When they broke apart, he looked down at her dazed and shaken.
'Wow!" he said. "I never thought it would be like that."
After he left, she sat on her bed thinking. What would he think if he knew how well I could do the other things to make him happy, she wondered. Like some of the things that man made me do. Like sucking his cock off.
CHAPTER FOUR
That evening her phone rang, and thinking it was Brian calling, she ran to pick it up. A woman's voice greeted her.
"Hello, Miss Parker?"
"Yes? Who is this?"
"You don't know me. My name is Emma Barton"
Sally felt her hand tighten on the phone. She made her voice cool and unconcerned. "I've heard of you."
The voice in her ear was throaty, sexual. "I'm sure that you have, Miss Parker. I understand you had a rather unpleasant experience this morning?"
Sally hesitated. "Really? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
Emma laughed. "I'm talking about the man who visited your office. The one who put his big cock into your mouth."
She made herself sound casual. "What about it?"
Emma sounded surprised. "You sound so blas�, Miss Parker. Perhaps it wasn't such an unpleasant experience, after all."
"I've had better cocks," she heard herself say. "Have you really? I had no idea."
"Was there anything else; Mrs. Barton?"
"Well, yes. I'm awfully sorry we had to use you for this. You realize of course why we had to do it?"
"No need explaining or apologizing, Mrs. Barton. It was a pleasure. Any time you want to send Mr. Hocking over again, I'd be delighted to see him. Of course, I would have been a lot happier if you. had sent a man with a bigger cock. Or do you save those for yourself?"
With that, she hung up, hearing Emma's surprised gasp before the connection was broken. That was the best way to handle it, she told herself. Brazen it out. Now they won't fell that they've hurt either me or Brian and it might spoil some of their fun.
When the phone rang again a little later, she took her time answering it. This time it was a feminine voice too, but one she recognized.
"Sally? This is Gail. How are you feeling?"
She and the receptionist had never spoken outside the offices of Lobby Logic. Gail was a nice person, she had decided, rather close-mouthed, but pretty and efficient. "I'm all right, Gail," she said. "It's nice of you to call."
"That must have been a terrible experience," Gail said. "When that man came running out with his fly wide open, I didn't know what to think!"
Sally felt her cheeks flush. So it hadn't been the well-kept secret that she and Brian had only hours before imagined.
"I'm all right, Gail," she said finally. "It wasn't a pleasant experience, to tell the truth. But it's all over now and Mr. Barton was very good about giving me the day off."
"Well, he certainly should be," Gail said. "After all, it's his fault that it happened. If he'd been in his office, you would have been all right."
"I'm all right now," Sally said. "Honestly, Gail."
"Honest?"
"Yes. It was -- well, sort of a shock, you see. He seemed to be a rather nice man when he walked in."
"I know. He fooled me too." Gail's voice lowered to a confidential whisper. 'What did he do?"
"Oh, nothing, really. It's nothing to talk about, Gail."
"I know. But don't forget he ran out of here with his fly open. He must have done something. Tried, anyway."
"All right," Sally said. "Let's say he tried."
"To stick it into you ?"
Sally grimaced. "If you don't mind, Gail. It's something I'd rather not discuss over the phone."
"Wonderful," Gail said. "I'll be right over."
"What?"
"I'm in the neighborhood, you see. Have you had dinner yet?"
"Well, no -- "
"Great," Gail said exuberantly. "I just want to see how you are. Then we can go out for a bite together. Okay?"
There was no way she could get out of it gracefully, and so she had said she would be waiting for, Gail and yes, dinner together would be fine. She had showered but had not yet begun to dress when the doorbell rang. Sally was about to throw the door open when she remembered Brian's words of caution. "Who is it?' she asked.
"Gail."
She put her eye to the glass in the door and saw the receptionist clearly. She opened the door and Gail bounced inside, surveying the room.
"Where'll I put this?"
"Put what?" she asked, and then saw the brown bag Gail was holding.
"The booze." Gail extracted a fifth of bourbon. "It seemed like a good way to get you to relax and get over your experience today."
Sally forced herself to shrug. "Oh, that. Well, it was thoughtful of you, Gail. Set it down anywhere."
"Better still," Gail said. "Why not open it now? We can have a drink or two before we go out and save some money. Got any ice?"
"I'll get it."
She returned from the kitchen with glasses and the ice cubes in a bucket. Now that she thought of it, the idea of drinking some good bourbon seemed an excellent thought.
Pouring from Gail's bottle, they sat together on the sofa. Sally lifted' her glass. "Cheers," she said. "It's been a long time since I've had bourbon. I know my brother used to drink it all the time."
Gail nodded, a, secret smile at her lips. "Mine, too. Sometimes it took me half a bottle before I got up enough nerve to let him screw me."
Sally was so surprised she nearly dropped her glass.
Gail continued, smiling. "But after that, it didn't take much for me to want to blow him and suck him off."
Sally stared, blinking. Gail had hardly dipped into. the glass yet She appeared sober. It was inconceivable that someone she hardly knew would just walk into. her apartment and speak of such intimate things, especially so nonchalantly and vulgarly.
Gail sipped now from her glass. "How was it with you and your brother, Sally? Was he older?"
"Yes. About three years."
"Three? You're lucky. Mine was younger than me. I had to show him practically everything."
Sally shook her head. "Really?" she asked politely. Then, "How did you learn?"
"My stepfather taught me. He married my mother before I was ten. It didn't take him two months before he had me jerking him off."
Sally stared horrified. "The beast!"
Gail grinned. "Oh, I didn't mind. In fact, I liked it. Pops was lots of fun. He went down on me too and taught me an awful lot of good healthy sex before I learned to blow him."
Sally gasped. "Didn't your mother ever find out?"
Gail shrugged. "I think she had her suspicions but she never did catch us at it. And Pops was very careful. He always made sure she got first crack at his cock before slipping it to me. That way she never caught wise. If he'd have used it all up on me first, and then climbed into the sack with her and a dead stick, it could have been trouble."
Sally nodded, taking another sip of the bourbon. "Yes, I can imagine," she said stiffly, formally. It was one thing to be aware of such happenings; even to have experienced incest herself. But it was quite another to speak of it as casually as the description of a parade !
Gail reached for the bottle. "Hey, this is good stuff, if I say so myself. Here, let me give you a refill."
Before Sally could protest, her glass had been filled to the brim again. Well, she thought, it didn't matter. She could use a little relaxation after the horror of the morning. And Gail was very frank, funny, and good company.
"How old were you before you blew your brother?" Gail asked.
Sally shook her head. Gail took it for granted that she had had sex similarly with her brother. Perhaps all young girls did, she thought. It occurred to Sally that perhaps she was a hypocrite in her reaction to Gail's candor. That's what girlfriends were for, to tell secrets to, to confide in ... and the drinks were making her feel so warm, so relaxed. At any rate, it seemed to have happened ages ago. There seemed to be no point to sounding prim about what happened when she was a child. "Around twelve, I guess."
Gail's eyes sparkled. "I knew it ! I knew it!"
"Knew what?" Sally asked, puzzled.
"I knew you looked too pure for it to be true. Any time I see a girl who looks like a virgin, and acts like one, I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that she's been layed and parlayed, blown ten different ways. So I'm glad to hear that you're honest anyway."
"It was so long ago," Sally said. "I'd almost forgotten, to tell you the truth."
"Me, too," Gail said. "But I can't complain. I had it good with my stepfather for a long time. Then he died when I was sixteen and left me high and dry."
"What do you mean?"
Gail shrugged. "I mean, I was used to having a big cock stuck in me regularly. Pops was really hung and had a lot of jizzem in him. He banged me nearly every night for years. A girl could get spoiled that way, you know. After that, I tried some of the kids my age and take my word for it, they were all rotten. None of them could hold on to an erection for more than a couple of quick jerks. They came like rabbits, sometimes the second they got into me. Believe me, I missed my Pops. He really could last. Sometimes I'd have ten or more orgasms a night with him. And after he finished doing me with his big old cock, he knew how to go down on me and eat me and give me a couple more that way."
To Sally's surprise, Gail shivered, a look of ecstasy shining on her face. She tilted her glass and drank deeply. "Here's to the good old days," she said.
Sally smiled, delighted now with Gail's blunt speech. She wished that she could be as uninhibited, but of course that wasn't in her nature. Nevertheless, she was grateful for Gail's revelations about her past. Her own lasting affairs with her brother Larry had bothered her conscience for many years. She had never dared to reveal any of this to 'a soul, and yet on Gail's first visit, it had all come out . and with no sense of guilt or shame attached.
"What did you do then?" she asked. "I mean; after your stepfather died and you found out the boys your age weren't able to satisfy you ?"
"What do you think?" Gail challenged.
Sally shrugged. "Tried older men?"
Gail shook her head. "That came a lot later. Too little and too late, I have to admit."
"What do you mean? What did you do r'
Gail stared at her unashamed. "I tried girls."
"Girls?" Sally repeated, stunned.
Gail nodded. "And believe it or not; I found out that girls are more fun. I don't mean to say they can take the place of a man's good stiff cock. Nothing can, not even a dildo. But what they can do is give a lot more loving."
Sally brushed. back her long flowing hair. She took a long pull at her glass feeling the bourbon relaxing her. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it, Gait That's something I've never tried."
Gail didn't answer her immediately but she felt the girl's eyes on her robe, slightly open at her breasts. She had forgotten somehow in the immediacy of welcoming Gail that she had not dressed after her shower. Now, feeling the intensity of Gail's gaze, she unconsciously put her hand to her throat, pulling the upper part of her robe together.
"Why do that?" Gail asked.
Salty tried to look unconcerned. "What do you mean?"
Gail gestured at her robe. Reaching out, she pried the ends apart from Sally's fingers. 'Why cover them up?" She gently pushed Sally's hand down, then leaning forward, she pulled the robe open, exposing sally's breasts.
Gail gasped. "Wow! Have you got beautiful jugs!"
Sally flushed. It would have been ridiculous to have said thank you. She felt uncomfortable, wondering what to say that wouldn't sound awfully stiff and square.
Gail was very close to her now, so close she could feel her warm breath. "Let me show you what I mean, Sally. About how girls can love."
Before Sally could protest, the light-haired girl had slipped the robe off her shoulders. Then almost in one continuing movement, her face was rubbing against Sally's soft breasts. "Wonderful," Gail murmured. Then she half-turned her face and her lips were at Sally's breasts. First one, then the other. Softly she moved her lips and tongue all around the nipples. Then she put one in her mouth and began. to suck. Sally felt her body warming, beginning to moisten. She already knew that she had a frighteningly low boiling point with men's sexual advances ... but this was different! This was a girl!
Perhaps it was the stiff drinks she had taken so quickly, she thought. Whatever it was, she had to admit that whatever Gail was doing to her now was beautiful, gentle, and comforting. It was a nice feeling of being loved with no rough masculine threat involved. She felt very safe here with Gail in her own apartment, and she sighed and let herself be gently forced back until she was flat on her sofa feeling Gail's weight upon her, feeling the other girl's hands slip inside her robe to caress her body in soft sweeping stroked. When Gail moved her hands inside her thighs, she began to tremble.
"It's okay, Sally," Gail assured. "I know what you want."
Her robe was eased from her gently and she found herself turning, shifting her hips to help Gail get it off. Then she was naked, lying on her sofa and she saw Gail's eyes gleaming with approval.
"Let me love you, Sally. Just relax and enjoy it."
She heard herself murmuring soft sighs of contentment as Gail dipped her head between her soft rounded thighs. As the other girl licked at her vagina, she stirred, moved her hips and Gail grasped her about the buttocks, hugging her closer,. She buried her head between Sally's legs, and her experienced mouth found all the places that could wring sighs of pleasure from Sally.
"That's just the beginning, Sally," she said softly. "Now I'm really going to eat your beautiful juicy cunt."
Sally soon began to stir, feeling incredible sensations of delight coursing through her body. She thrilled from each touch of Gail. There was no way she could resist this kind of gentle loving, and when she compared it in her mind with the brutal exercise of the morning with Hocking, Mrs. Barton's agent, she could not do anything but submit gratefully.
Unselfishly, Gail had asked for nothing in return for the sheer delight of making active love to her. Apparently she expected nothing but Sally submitting to her attentive ways, letting her kiss and suck and squeeze each of her body parts in minutae. But as Sally began to tremble and quiver with each knowing new caress, almost out of her mind with delight, she knew she would have to do something of het own to repay this kindness.
"Oh, you're so beautiful, so soft," Gail said, her face buried between Sally's soft thighs. "I could go on eating you forever."
Sally managed to say, gasping with new pleasure as Gail's tongue found her clit and massaged it, "I've never felt anything this wonderful in my life."
Gail merely muttered some response she could not hear and resumed what she was doing. Now she had found the sensitive clit and centered all her rapt and loving attention on it.
Just when Sally began to circle her hips, feeling that her orgasm was imminent, Gail moved away. She began to kiss Sally's body in minute detail, first going up each side to her breasts, then circling and going down the other. When she came to the mound, she veered off again and wen to the parts of the inner thighs that gave so much pleasure.
Answering Sally's unspoken thoughts, she muttered, "This way you'll come off the best. Believe me."
She went back up Sally's middle now, lingering to stay around the navel area, biting softly at the soft flesh just above and below. At the same time, her fingers were running down Sally's back, stroking her tenderly, and kneading her flesh with firm caressing movements.
Gail turned Sally to her side then, and half-mounted her, pressing both the back and front of Sally's graceful body at once, running her hands up and down in unison as if she were playing some celestial instrument. Sally moaned in pleasure and now suddenly in her rising passion, she reached out for the other girl and found her breasts. Gail immediately let out a soft moaning sound.
"Oh, that's so nice, Sally. Squeeze me there. I love it. Only squeeze me hard. Like this."
To show Sally what she meant, she took one of her round breasts in each hand and turned them as if they were knobs. Then she pulled them apart and then brought them together as if she were trying to make one large breast out of them.
Sally sighed in rapture, shaking her head, trying to regain her breath "Oh, yes. I love that too. I thought that your doing it gently was the best, but I . love what you're doing now, Gail.
Gail smiled and lifted up enough for Sally to unhook her dress. She twisted her shoulders quickly and shrugged herself out of it. Then she bent to the side while Sally unlocked her bra. She shook her shoulders then and her own breasts were free and tumbled like soft birds into Sally's hands.
"Oh, these are beautiful," Sally murmured. "They're so soft!"
She wiggled to one side and when Gail went back to kissing her between the thighs, Sally buried her face between Gail's lovely soft breasts. It was incredible, she thought, what she had been missing. For the first time in her life, she had permitted another of her own sex to make love to her, something she had always thought was odd. Now when she was beginning to realize how wonderful it was for a person to be loved by another of the same sex, she knew even more certainly that her own actions now were wonderfully receptive. She felt as much pleasure now in kissing Gail's breasts as she had received when Gail fastened her knowing lips on hers. It was the first time too that she had ever known the strange yet wonderful feeling of kissing another girl's nipples and she noted with awe how quickly they grew erect, responsive to her touch.
She had heard of girls making love to each other, and had always turned aside. Now she knew she had to make up for all those stupid years of acting superior. She tore at Gail's panties and Gail nodded and moved her hips enough so Sally could slip them off. She slid her hands along Gail's thighs now, admiring their firm softness. She was pleasantly surprised too at the muscular calves of Gail, and pressed hard on her legs, delighting in their firmness. They were shifting positions now, lying side by side, and this gave Sally the chance to run her hands over Gail's. round buttocks. Again she received an unexpected thrill. No man ever felt this soft and pliable, she knew.
Gail now began to move away from her and before Sally knew what she was doing, she had reversed her position and Sally felt her thighs soft and fragrant near her face. She craned forward and kissed Gail's inner thighs and then she knew what she had to do and moved determinedly upward until her mouth was poised. an inch from Gail's moistened cunt.
Sally hesitated no longer. She remembered in detail the lovely ways that Gail had made love to her own lovespot and now while it was still freshly imprinted in her mind, and being done to her again, she went in with open mouth and questing tongue. The first taste felt strange but there was a fascination to the pungent aroma that could not be resisted. She had an idea suddenly why girls found it so easy to love one another, if they all had this same sweet and pungent scent.. She buried her face in it gratefully.
She heard Gail moan her grateful response sounding far off, somewhere muffled between her own legs. She found the outer labia lips and then the hard nut-like clitoris and licked and bit at it. At the same time, her hands were pulling roughly at Gail's breasts, bringing soft. cries from her.
Sally was wondering if this was the reversed position most women preferred for loving, when suddenly Gail began to, move her hips and writhe. At the same time she felt her own clit being so stimulated that before she knew: it, the huge dam of her love juices spilled over and she cried out and grabbed at Gail as she convulsed in her orgasm. She wept with ecstasy as she felt Gail shudder too, and then her mouth knew Gail's love juices as she poured and gushed into her own orgasm.
They lay there another long moment until their series of orgasms had finally subsided. When she turned her face away, it was wet with Gail's love juices and she was strangely proud and happy that she had done this. She heard Gail's voice, happy and almost mocking.
"Was I right, or was I right? Can men make love like women?"
She shook her head. Such wonderful loving was too different and precious to deny. "You were right, Gail," she said.
CHAPTER FIVE
The following morning, as she drove to work, she wondered if her new relationship with Gail would make any difference. As Brian Barton's private secretary, her duties did not require any more than her typing in her office. She knew most of the foundation crew but merely by name and association. There was no possible way she could walk past Gail at her . reception desk now by merely nodding a Cool hello. Their lovemaking the preceding night had lasted for hours and when it was over, they were both exhaunted.
Oddly, neither had spoken in terms of their future relationship, if any, both equally afraid to presume upon this new tenuous emotion that had exploded so suddenly into passion. For her own part, Sally could not recall any time in her young life that held so much ecstasy and fulfillment for her. That it had happened with another girl puzzled her. She had never considered Gail "queer" in any sense, no more than she would have so denigrated herself. Yet the proof had been there for them both to witness. A perfect loving evening.
Gail had pinpointed the thought herself by remarking about the difference between male and female lovers. As she rolled sensuously in mounting ecstasy, her lips glued to Sally's, her hands softly stroking her body, she had shivered and then her eyes misted. "I'm not asking you to feel the same way I do, Sally. But the truth is, I've never in my life enjoyed making love more."
Sally lay there, gently stroking in return, her passion spent and leaving her with a lingering pervasive contentment. Although Gail had given her an out, she was still too wrapped up in this delicious moment. She felt Gail's body warm against hers, demanding only to love her, asking nothing in return. But she had loved, trying to return as much as she had received; awkwardly at the beginning, but then finding her way and gaining confidence and expertise as the long moments of holding, clinging, and stroking stretched on and on.
"Me, neither," she had said finally. "It's been just wonderful, Gail. I never in my life dreamed. it could be like this. The only thing that's been different has been the you-know-what."
Gail lifted her head. "You mean the cock?"
"Yes," Sally said dreamily. "I'm not 'saying that I've missed having one inside me. It's just all that has been lacking, that's all. And girls have to be contented with what they. can do naturally, I guess."
"Not necessarily," Gail said. "Excuse me a moment"
To Sally's surprise, she had stood up and-walked across the room to where she had placed her bag. Sally watched her easy swaying motion, admiring Gail's grace. Her body was tan and glowed with health and vitality. Her legs were long and graceful, her thighs 'and buttocks full and firm. Her round breasts. crested by light pink nipples were the answer to any man's dream. Her long chestnut hair flowed easily and smoothly to her slender shoulders. Her neck was long and delicate as a stalk. Her face was a long oval; eyes a smouldering deep jet; her mouth wide and generous, lips upturned at the corner in what seemed a perpetual grin.
She opened her bag and drew something out wrapped in tissue paper. Returning to the sofa, she extended her hand and let it fall into Sally's hand. Sally felt something hard and bulblike and her fingers recoiled. She looked up at her new friend uncertainly.
"Open it, silly," Gail said.
Sally shrugged and did as Gail suggested. She stared down at a large white 'hard substance shaped so much like a human male organ as to defy her reason. "What is it?" Sally asked.
"You mean you really don't know?"
Sally shook her head. "I've never seen one before." Gail grinned. "It's called a dildo. It's the answer to an old maid's prayers."
Gail laughed as Sally turned it from side to side, examining it carefully. "It's not real, only rubber. Would you like to see how it works?"
Sally hesitated. "Well, not really, Gail. I wouldn't want you to think that I -- honestly, it's just that I'm so curious."
Gail nodded. "Sure. I was too or how else would I have got it? This is just the small job anyway. They have some rigged with electric current to give you a real buzz if you want. We'll just have to make do with this the old-fashioned way."
She had a strap ready which she fastened around her waist and inserted the dildo in a loop near the bottom. She was over Sally now, completely girded. "Okay, Sally, where do you want it?"
"What?"
Gail shook her head and grinned. "You know, front or rear end?"
Sally hesitated. "Isn't it awfully big? Won't it hurt?"
"It depends," Gail said. "I don't think you're that small. But we'll try it and if it hurts you too much, let me know and I'll pull it out."
"All right." She settled back and spread her thighs. "This okay?"
Gail looked down at her admiringly, then shook her head. "No, this way you would have a basis for comparison with the real thing. Turn over, doll."
Turning her buttocks up, Gail mounted her from the rear. "Hold still now. I don't want to hurt you."
She felt it now as if a live thing slipping from 'between Gail's legs into the crevice of her anus. She spread her arms and rested her face on a soft pillow while Gail massaged and kissed her buttocks. Then she inserted the devil do-gooder.
"Okay so far?"
Sally felt herself perspiring. It was beginning to hurt but not too badly. Somehow now she wanted it all inside her, in the way her brother never could gain access. "Go ahead, Gail," she said firmly. "I want it there. You don't have to worry about me. I won't cry."
"Okay. You asked for it."
She felt it moving in a stirring circular motion as if at the periphery of her anus. Then Gail leaned closer to her, encircling her dangling breasts with her soft hands. She squeezed Sally's breasts suddenly with surprising strength. As Sally gasped, she thrust forward and Sally felt the obscene yet loving object filling her insides, cramming it with a hard fullness that sent tears to her eyes. Her mouth opened and as she cried out, Gail thrust it deep again. She gasped with the pain and yet now she was able to take it better. She moved her hips encouraging Gail who was still hesitant above her.
"I'm okay," she said gasping. "Go ahead, Gail. Do it."
"Right on, Sally. Here we go. Next stop is heaven!"
A honking motorist brought Sally's attention back to the present and she shivered now remembering her ecstatic feelings of the night before. It had been extraordinary, incredible, an experience she had not thought possible. In her mind she tried to compare and equate that experience with Gail Trell, using the mechanical dildo on her, with the morning she had spent visiting Mr. Brown's apartment in San Francisco. Brown, that crude and powerful man, had taken her then from the rear, buggering her for the first time and she remembered with shame and humiliation how she had enjoyed his big fat cock inside her ass.
No, she had to admit now, there was something different in any comparison between the dildo and the human male penis. There was the warm feeling the human organ had, for one, and then too, the fact that it jetted its sperm right into you at the critical time of peak arousal. No dildo could do that, she thought, and even if they designed one to spew some kind of warm liquid as a lukewarm imitation, nothing could ever really duplicate nature's way.
There were the other factors too, she realized. The complete physical setup of the male. The fact that you could feel his testicles,. hard as a huge ball behind you, slapping against the seat of your buttocks as the man thrust and lunged at you with his big hard stick. The human pulsing warmth of the male organ was another factor. Otherwise, she thought, you might as well use anything -- a banana, or a cucumber as well as the dildo.
Then, too, there was the human frailty angle -- the overall thought that the male penis, even though erect and in full cry for satisfaction, could at any moment lose its sublime shape and thickness and hardness. Within seconds, she knew, a man could go from an eight-inch cock to a mere shrivelled lifeless-looking stump of sagging puny flesh. The man always had to contend with losing his erection, as did his consort. Perhaps it was that built-in frailty, the uncertainty of the perfect human fucking machine that made it so attractive and necessary. It took but a single thought to turn off a man, unless he happened to be a beast; in which case he could lose his hard-on only by continued usage, and would come to his end after sufficient orgasms, regardless of his professed power.
Sally remembered a boy at school, a notorious stud who had achieved a great amount of notoriety based on his huge cock and his staying powers. Her friend at school, Wanda Mack, had been introduced to the stud and attracted by the bulge in the center of his pants, and had gone to a motel with him. The next day she had described the activities to Sally.
"His name is Roscoe Tanier, and you wouldn't believe what he has inside his pants."
She remembered her tart reply. "Could it be a cock?"
Wanda had smiled. "I've seen all kinds of cocks in my life -- all shapes and sizes. But this one of Roscoe's you wouldn't believe. It has got to be over ten inches long!"
She remembered showing disbelief. "Ten inches, Wanda? Isn't that humanly impossible? Maybe you went out with a horse or donkey named Roscoe."
Wanda shook her head. "If I did, that horse or donkey signed the motel register as Reggie Fuller and wife. He also paid ten dollars in advance for the room."
"Okay, okay," she had said. "So it was no horse or donkey. Roscoe is human and divinely hung. But ten inches? Didn't it strangle you?"
Wanda had grinned. "Only every place he tried it. When we got into the room he let me put my hand on it before he took it out of his pants. I guess he wanted to make sure that I didn't panic and try to jump out the window."
"And you didn't?"
"I wasn't that crazy," Wanda had replied. "It felt kind of big, of course, but it has been a few weeks actually since I went with a fellow and I kind of forgot what they felt like, sizewise, I mean. After all, a lot of guys at this school, not to mention quite a few who don't attend, have pretty good-size whangs.
"So I just felt it and squeezed it and let Roscoe fool around with my tits, you know, rubbing them around and kind of bouncing them. I like that."
"Who doesn't? On with the story of Roscoe's magic wand."
"Oh, it was magic, all right; and don't laugh. And I know how big it was because it was bigger than my feet?'
"Your feet?" Sally had exclaimed. "What was his cock doing down there? Is Roscoe a foot fucker?"
Wanda had grimaced. "No, dopey. It's just that when I saw it all let out and extended, I knew nobody would ever believe me if I said it took both my hands to hold it. And that was when I decided to put my foot up against it to see how they compared. Believe it or not, his cock was longer."
Sally threw up her hands. "All right, I believe it. I know you have big feet, Wanda."
Wanda bared her teeth. "Okay. So we had a few drinks and then Roscoe asked me if I was hungry. I thought that was kind of silly because we had just finished having dinner at Eddie's shore place. So like a dope, I shrugged my shoulders, figuring maybe he had some kind of special dessert he had ordered from the motel.
"I said that I supposed I could eat a little something, and that's when he took it out of his pants and suggested I could satisfy part of my appetite by eating his cock. I made believe I didn't know what he was talking about but he knew a lot of ways to make me do what he wanted."
Sally's eyes had widened. "Such as what?"
"Well, first, he took my clothes off because he said he didn't want my dress to get all creased and rumpled."
Sally had grinned. "I've heard that one."
"Then he took his off because he said they belonged to his roommate and he promised to take care of them."
"Not at all bad," Sally had said laughing. "Original."
"I thought so, too. Anyway, so we both did. And then we're both standing around bare-eased and naked and I see his thing, I mean I really saw his thing for the first time. I couldn't believe it. It was three inches thick, and that happens to be bigger around than my fist."
Sally managed to look impressed. "How did it happen to get inside your fist all of a sudden?"
Wanda blushed. "Oh, I forgot. We started fooling around and I suppose I lost my balance and grabbed at anything to keep from falling off the bed. And there it was, a whole handful and more!
"But he didn't want me to jerk him off, oddly enough. Roscoe had better ideas in mind. And I know you're not at all interested so I guess I'll say good-bye now."
Sally glared. "You do and I spread the word that your brother is a dyke."
"Okay, okay. Only fooling, Sally. Anyway, he got me down on the bed and started going over me with his mouth. I mean, he got between my soft white juicy thighs and he went way up my cunt with his tongue and then he found my clit -- "
"Your what?"
Wanda looked around the area and touched herself. "It's something special we have that gets hard just like what they have. And Roscoe knew how to suck on mine until I was ready to come -- and I did -- and twice more."
Sally remembered moistening as she listened. "And then what happened?" she asked firmly.
"Then he said if I wanted any more of those delicious clit-licking orgasms, I'd have to get started on eating his stick. So I did, and guess what?"
Sally shook her head. "His cock fell off?"
"No, silly, it got bigger. And it got bigger and bigger until I thought it would strangle me to death." Sally grinned. "And did it?"
Wanda whistled. "No, but it sure was close. When he came it felt like somebody had put a fire hose inside my mouth. It came at me with such force, I swear he pushed back my tonsils. Anyway, it felt like it. But the best part is yet to come. You'll never believe the rest of this."
"Wanda Mack, you're not getting out of this alive if you don't tell," Sally had threatened. "You can't leave me hanging now with his big thing stuffed into your mouth and making like a fire hose. Did he put out the fire, by the way?"
"That's it," Wanda said. "He put out the fire ten times!"
Sally looked puzzled. "Did I miss something?"
Wanda smiled. "No. I'm telling you that my stud date with the ten-inch cock made it ten times with me last night."
"Impossible," Sally said.
"That's what I thought. I had two in the mouth and two in the snatch for openers. And two in the keester makes it six, right?"
Sally nodded. "Six is a lot, too, Wanda. But you said he made it ten times!"
Wanda nodded. "Right. After the sixth one, he said he wanted to rest a minute. Then he said, why don't we take a. break and take a shower? So we did. We stood in the stall and I let him soap me up and then he started fooling around my pussy with his hand and I started to come. So I began jerking him off and as soon as I made mine, whoosh, he came in my hand and all over me.
"Now that should have finished the guy off. But instead, it only made him hornier. No sooner did he come, then he wanted more. He picked me up and held me over his cock and I wrapped my legs around him. You know?"
Sally nodded, feeling her cheeks go crimson.
"Okay, then he started to bounce me up and down and I felt it coming again and bounced harder and faster and then -- wham and ham and whoosh -- Roscoe was flooding me again. That makes eight, right?"
Sally made a rapid calculation mentally. "Right"
"Now he was getting kind of tired, he said. And he fell asleep as soon as we went back inside. I did, too, and I'm dreaming I forget about what now, and then all of a sudden I feel something big and hard stealing into my snatch from behind me. Well, I pretended I didn't know what it was, but then he started playing with my tits and before I knew it he, he did me again. Me and him. Nine!"
"Nine!" Sally echoed weakly.
"Then it was kind of late and I had class this morning early, so we got dressed and he drove me home."
Sally shook her head. "But, Wanda, you insisted that he made it ten times, and you only got to nine."
Wanda snapped her fingers. "I nearly goofed. When we drove up in front of the apartment, he started to kiss me like good night, you know. Then he started fooling around with my tits again, squeezing them like crazy and flipping the nipples. Naturally, I was kind of done in by that time myself and I wasn't too responsive."
"Well, what happened?"
"He put my hand on his cock inside his pants. Believe it or not, Sally, it was even bigger and harder than it was before, all those other times in the motel room. So I sure didn't want to waste another chance at that big hunk of Sausage, and I let him take advantage of me one more time."
Sally gasped. "In the car?"
Wanda nodded carelessly. "Where else?"
Sally narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How did you manage the last one? I mean, what position?"
"Oh, sitting. I crawled over him and sat right down on his family jewels. And this one took a little longer, but when he made it, I thought he was going to come right through the roof of my mouth."
Ten times, Sally marveled. Wasn't that some kind of record?
She had never tried to take advantage of Wanda's friendship to inveigle an invitation with her stud with the size-ten penis and the number-ten orgasms. Wanda had moved away shortly afterward, her father suffering a loss in business, and although they had corresponded for a while, after a few months the letters ceased as if by mutual consent.
If Roscoe was still around and doing his vaunted thing, she hadn't heard of it from any of her other school friends. And soon the story had escaped her mind and memory.
Until now, until this moment when she was trying to find some justification for loving Gail and making do with that kind of tenuous and offbeat relationship, rather than becoming involved with men.
She had a sickly feeling that her brief moments with Hocking, Emma Barton's agent, had spoiled her again for men. There were simply too many bad and brutalizing experiences with men. They were too strong, too ruthless, too demanding. Yet she remembered too, if hazily, that despite her repugnance, she had begun to respond to what the blond man was doing to her. She was beginning to like the feel of his hands on her, and his big cock, top.
How could she tell this to Gail? She knew little if indeed anything of Gail's private life. Perhaps she had been badly treated by men at some time in her life. Otherwise, why would she seek to 'make love to women?
The dildo was another indicator. Only a woman who engaged regularly in sex with other women would be that familiar. with one.
It had been early in the morning when Gail had finally gone home. She had been sleepless at first, after Gail left, but eventually she relaxed and the alarm awoke her. Now it was eight-thirty and as she wheeled her little car into the foundation lot, she knew intuitively that she would have to talk with Gail, have this out with her. They could go on being friends, but perhaps it would be just as well if they didn't become too close in their relationship.
As she opened the door and stepped toward the reception desk, she felt something was wrong. She blinked and as she came closer, a thin frowning line formed between her eyes.
A stranger sat at Gail Trell's desk.
Sally stopped. "Hello, I'm Sally Parker. I'm Brian Barton's secretary. Where's Gail this morning?"
The new girl shrugged. "I don't know, really. I heard she called in sick or something this morning and the agency sent me over as a replacement."
Sally nodded, and walked slowly away stunned. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She came into her office and saw Brian hadn't come in yet either.
She sat down, possessed suddenly by a dim sense of foreboding.
CHAPTER SIX
She found Gail's home phone number in the office directory. As she dialed, she felt the sense of apprehension growing. She tried to allay it, telling herself that actually she knew so little of Gail's personal life and habits. Perhaps she was merely tired or had overslept, or even, was hung over. They had consumed a considerable amount of the bourbon she had brought to Sally's place, and it wasn't too difficult to imagine that upon her return to her own apartment, she had imbibed more.
Sally stared at the phone in her hand, hearing the tone ring on unanswered. Perhaps she's a heavy sleeper, she told herself. Not everyone responds to the ringing of a phone. She reminded herself that never having been to Gail's apartment, she had no idea where the phone was located. Conceivably, it could have been placed in the hall, or the living room, or even buried beneath pillows.
The phone continued to ring and she gave it a few more and then replaced it on its cradle. Another thought struck her and she nodded at its possibility. Gail was not sleeping. She was up but in the bathroom, taking a bath or shower. You needn't be able to hear your phone ring when you're in the bathroom.
Well, then, she told herself, there's nothing to worry about. You merely call again in a while when she's out.
There were other positive thoughts. Gail could have decided not to go to work and was shopping instead. She had no idea of Gail's loyalties to Barton and Lobby Logic and its purposes. They simply had not wasted a single moment of the preceding evening discussing business. It had all been the singular manifestation of encountered love.
Then what was she worried about? she asked herself. The answer came immediately.
Emma Barton.
Andrew Hocking, agent.
If they had failed with her, perhaps they would succeed with Gail. And for that matter, she realized, they had not actually failed .with her, merely not realized all that they had intended.
She wished Brian would come. He knew Gail. He could size up the situation and tell her if she was needlessly worrying. She would merely tell him that Gail had been over last night and -- she felt her cheeks, warm and flushed; and wondered how much she dared to tell Brian really about Gail's visit. Did he know about her personal preference for women? Wouldn't her admission of their seeing each other plant something in his mind that she would rather not have there?
But at that moment, the door opened and Brian walked in. His long stride carried him to her desk quickly. "Where's Gail today?" she asked quickly.
He stared down at her puzzled. "Gail?" he echoed dumbly.
"Gail Trell. Our receptionist. Didn't you notice she's not at her desk and a new girl is there?"
Barton shook his head. "Sorry. Didn't notice. Came in the side door, Sally, and never looked back at the reception desk. What's troubling you?"
He looked down at her carefully but she found sympathy in his tone. "I don't know," she said. "It's just that -- well, she dropped over to spend a little time with me last evening. She was worried about my encounter with that man Hocking. And when I came in this morning and didn't see her, I thought -- "
He nodded, green eyes fastened on hers. "That something had happened to her?"
"Yes. I didn't tell you -- your wife -- Emma called me."
His jaw muscles worked convulsively. "What did she have to say?"
"Not very much. Some, vulgar language. An implied threat."
Barton tugged at his hair angrily. "God, .I'm sorry to have you messed up in my personal life, Sally. I'll have to do something about that, I suppose. But so far as Gail is concerned, why panic? I doubt very much that Emma would do anything to her. She's not as close to me as you are. Why not try her number again in a little while. Perhaps she overslept this morning. Or she could be in the shower behind the closed door and not hear the phone ringing."
She smiled, relieved that he had thought of the same possibilities. "All right. I'll try her again and then get on to my work."
"Fine," he said, moving off into his office. "If you don't get some kind of response from her soon, let me know," he added.
"Yes." She dialed Gail's number again. She could hear it ringing and ringing and she had counted eight rings and was about to hang up when she heard the phone being lifted.
"Hello?"
"Is that you, Gail?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"Sally. What's wrong?"
"What do you mean what's wrong?"
I mean you're not at your desk and there's a new girl sitting there. I've called you before and got no answer. Well, say something."
"I will, if you give me a minute. First, what time is it?"
"Nine o'clock."
She heard Gail moan in mock panic. "I'll never make it today. It's all the fault of that sonofabitch."
"Which sonofabitch? What are you talking about, Gail?"
"The molester."
"Molester?"
"Some guy who broke in here last night. Just as I hit the sack. Wouldn't you know it?"
"What are you talking about, Gail? Are you all right?"
"Let me see -- I think so."
Gail came on again after a moment's silence. "It only looks bad, what he did. But I'm okay, really."
Sally made up her mind quickly. "Gail, don't do anything. I'm coming right over."
"But -- you don't even know my address."
"That's right -- give it to me. I'll ask Brian if I can take a little time off. He'll understand, I'm sure."
'Well, okay, doll, if you think you can swing it."
"I'll try. I should be there in less than half an hour." She hung up and hastened to Brian's office.
He looked up. and dropped the papers he was holding as he saw the expression on her face. "What's wrong, Sally? You look as if you're seen a ghost."
"It's Gail -- I finally got her on the phone. She's been hurt."
"Hurt?"
"Some intruder. Somebody broke into her apartment, she said, just after she got home. She sounded awful, as if she had been beaten. Mr. Barton, could I -- ?"
He grinned and waved -his papers. "Go on, Sally. Take off. I can see how this affects you. And naturally after Gail visited you to commiserate with you on your attack." He shook his head worried. "I hope this thing with Gail is something different -- something not connected to Emma and her plans to get something on me."
She gathered her things. "I'll just drive over there and see if she's all right. If she doesn't need any-thing, I expect to be back within an hour, Mr. Barton."
He shook his head. "Take whatever time is necessary, Sally. There's nothing going on at the office
right now that can't wait."
She didn't want to argue about it, sensing he was purposely being overly generous, and hurried out of her office. The new receptionist who had temporarily relieved Gail sat behind the desk, her nose buried in a paperback book.
Sally shook her head disapprovingly. If Gail had nothing to do, she would be helping out by typing. This new girl was something else, she thought, and she couldn't wait to have Gail come back. Barton couldn't afford to have people around his organization who wouldn't put out. As he had once put it, you either wanted to help people or you didn't. That was the guiding principle behind Lobby. Logic. If you didn't care enough, a lot of people would suffer.
She got into her car, wheeled out of the lot, and headed for the freeway. From the address Gail had given her, she knew she had a fast twenty-minute ride. Most of the morning traffic had already come along, and she thought she could be there and back at her desk within the hour. Luck was with her all the way and she made better time than she had expected. She found Gail's apartment house in the Valley, a two-story walk-up in a quiet neighborhood.
Shortly after she jabbed at the doorbell, she heard the bell chime softly and rock music inside. She heard Gail's voice call, "Coming," and rocked on her heels impatiently. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was ten o'clock.
The door was flung open and she stared puzzled at the blank doorway. Then from behind the door, a finger beckoned. She stepped inside, and turned quickly as the doer was shut behind her.
"Hi," Gail was saying. "You sure made good time getting here, Sally. I hope you didn't pick up a speeding ticket."
Sally stared. Gail was wearing a thin shortie night-gown, coming halfway to her knees. Her long tanned graceful legs were bare. Her eyes travelled down the symmetrical form to her toes, encased in clogs. A thin frowning line formed between her eyes and she took in again the low-cut front revealing Gail's perfectly formed breasts.
Gail laughed. "Anything wrong?"
Sally shook her head. "I hope not, Gail. I was looking -- you know, for bruises. I don't know exactly what. I'm so happy you're not hurt. From what you said over the phone, I thought -- "
Gail interrupted, smiling. "Had you worried, huh?"
"Of course. I can imagine it must have been a terrible experience."
Gail shrugged. "It could have been worse."
Sally stared, puzzled. "I don't understand, Gail. Perhaps you'd better tell me what happened."
Gail said frowning, "I can't believe what happened myself. Come on inside and sit down. Can I get you anything?"
Sally shook her head.
"Coffee? Just made fresh."
"Well, all right." She sat down on Gail's sofa and Gail banged things around in the kitchen. The living room was cheerful and well furnished although it appeared to need attention. Gail, although a good receptionist, apparently wasn't bothered by a sloppy house. She could see the open bedroom door, the bed still not made, covers tossed around. She caught herself. Instead of being grateful that Gail isn't hurt, I'm critical of her housecleaning!
Gail was back in a moment bearing two cups of steaming .coffee. She handed Sally hers, and took the big sofa chair opposite, and sat back, crossing her long legs, her light short nightie rising high up her lovely tan thighs. "Okay," she said. "You'll never believe it but here's what happened. When I got back here, it was close to three in the morning. I didn't realize it was that late."
Sally bit her lip. "Me, neither, Gail. I'm sorry I didn't ask you to stay over. I didn't realise you lived way the other end of. town."
Gail Shrugged. "It was worth it. I had a marvelous time." Her eyes raised and fastened on Sally's. "Did you?"
"You know I did, Gail" She glanced at her watch. "But I promised Brian I'd be right back. Do you mind?"
Gail grimaced. "Sorry. All right, I'll make it brief. I got home, I got undressed, I took a shower, I went to bed. That is, I nearly went to bed."
"I don't understand."
"You will. I don't suppose I ever told you, but I like to sleep in the raw. Something sort of carefree about it. And last night, as usual, when I got out of the shower, I had my bathrobe an, but as I got into my bedroom, I shrugged it off. That's when I saw him."
"Saw who?"
"My molester. He was sitting on my bed, looking me over, his eyes as big as. saucers. A young kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen. I guess he never saw a girl in. the buff before."
"But how did he get in?"
Sally shook her head. "That was my first thought, too, Sally. And I was more surprised than angry. So the first thing out of my mouth, I said, `How did you get in here?' The kid kept looking me over, sort of licking his lips, and I can swear he was drooling, his little blue eyes, fastened right , on my tits. 'Huh?' he said. "Oh, through the door. I guess you forgot to lock it.' "
"Oh, Gail, no!" Sally wailed.
Gail shrugged. "Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Last night I forgot. But it's always been a dull quiet neighborhood where nothing' ever happens. Just my luck, it had to be on the one night where I was bushed for sleep."
Sally knew a little something about midnight intruders. She was amazed that Gail could be speaking so lightly after such a recent horrifying experience. "What happened then?" she gasped.
"Now comes the part you won't believe," Gail said. "I started to back up to get my bathrobe, to throw something on. The way that kid was staring at my tits, I was afraid he would bore holes in them. But he saw me move and he put his hand in his back pocket. When he drew it back, he was holding a knife. He flipped his wrist and I heard the steel goo boingg or whatever sound it makes. And there I am staring at a six-inch switchblade knife and the kid is staring at my great big knockers.
"'Don't put anything on,' he says. 'I like to look at you.' "
"'What do you mean you like to look at me?" I said. 'You mean you've seen me before?' The kid nods. 'I been watching you nearly every night for a week.'
"I looked him over, this fresh young punk kid. 'What do you mean, you've been watching me? Where? How?' "
"The window?" Sally said.
Gail nodded. "Wouldn't you know it? I guess I don't draw my curtains or blinds at night most of the time either. And it's always dark out there on the landing and I never look out. And here this dopey kid has been looking me over every night, he says. Honest, did I get goose pimples at that!"
Sally shivered. She had been lucky in her life. No young popeyed strangers with switchblade knives had ever visited her to act upon their phantasies. She marveled again at Gail's composure. She was certain she would have fainted dead away at the intruder's feet.
"Nice?" Gail asked. "So I said, okay so you've been a Peeping Tom. I suppose you know there's a law against that?"
"Yes, but a lot of good that did you," Sally said. "He shrugged, this dopey redheaded kid, 'So what?' "
Sally gasped. "Redheaded? Oh, no!"
Gail waved her hands. "Stop thinking about Brian Barton for a couple seconds. I asked the kid what he wanted. He didn't say anything. Just kept staring. 'I don't have much money, I told him. 'But you're welcome to whatever I have.' Would you believe it, the punk keeps on sitting there, shaking his head and staring. Now his little beady eyes have shifted a little and I have the idea he's trying to look up my jellybox. Naturally I put my hands there. He shook his head kind of angrily now, and he says, 'Don't do that. I like to look.' Well, he's still holding that big blade, and I didn't feel like arguing. So I took my hands away from my warm snatch and put them on my hips.
"The kid says, 'Turn around.'
"I was afraid if I turned, he'd stick the knife in me. I said, 'What for?' You know what he said? 'I want to look at your big beautiful ass!"
Sally had minored in psychology courses describing the neurotic types and she tried to recall what she knew of the strange ones with fetishes, and the others known as voyeurs. Some were dangerous, but not all. It depended on circumstances, and your luck. Evidently, Gail had. drawn a freak.
"I guess you obeyed him?" she said.
Gail shrugged. "What else? I turned, and he kept me there a while, looking me over. I expected him to come up behind me and stick something hard in. me any second. Either his blade or his cock, I wasn't sure which. After about five minutes that seemed more like a year, he said okay, and said I should turn around slowly. I did as he said. Then he said I should come over to the bed slowly. I did that, too, trying not to get him excited, hoping my big boobies wouldn't sway too much." Gail paused as if trying to recall it all.
"He still has his little piggy eyes on them but he still hasn't taken his pants off and he hasn't even unzipped his fly. Normally, at this point, some jerky freak like this would already have his cock out and either be beating his own meat while looking at you, or ask you to do. it and save him the trouble.
"He waited till I got very close and then he said I should walk over him."
"What?"
Gail nodded, grimacing. "That was a new one on me, too. But I figured walking is better than sucking or jerking or fucking, so I did as he said."
Sally felt her heart drumming faster. In her mind, she was trying to picture the situation. It was weird, didn't make sense, but of course nothing abnormal ever did. She said, "How did you manage it?"
"As I got real close, he let himself fall back on the bed. You know, like stretched out. I got one foot up on the bed and then the other and now I was straddling him. The bed was kind of bouncy and I was afraid I would lose my balance and fall right on that switchblade of his. He must have seen what was going on in my mind, because he suddenly nodded, and hit the button, and the blade slid back inside. Then he nodded for me to go ahead. I put one toot out real easy now and it touched his knee. I looked down at him and he nodded, and I figured, what the hell, if this dumb kid wants to be flattened, I'll be happy to oblige. I got one foot on his right leg, and he was smiling. I had a choice for my next step, and I think that was really what was in the kid's mind. Can you guess?"
Sally wrinkled her brow. "You mean, he wanted you to step on -- on it?"
Gail nodded forcefully. "On his cock, you mean? Sure, what else? But I wasn't sure what would happen if I did. I mean, maybe he would get his rocks off when I touched him, or else maybe I would hurt his balls. Then he would have a good reason for getting mad and sticking me with his shiv."
Yes, Sally thought, grateful that she had never encountered this type of erratic person. "I don't know what I would have done, Gail, in a similar situation. What did you do?"
"I decided to play it cool. The kid was apparently just a looker, that kind of voyeur, see? And I decided if that was his game, I'd give him enough to look at and get his mind off other things. Anyway, instead of stepping on his cock and balls next, as he expected, I stepped over them and got one leg on his other knee. It was hard holding my balance that way, one foot on each knee of this jerky kid, and I swayed and had to fling my arms out to hold my balance. Well, naturally, when you do that, your whole upper body goes into motion, you know?"
Gail pantomimed her movements, holding her arms straight out to her sides. Then she stepped up on the sofa near Sally and carefully put one foot down and then the other. She swayed and shook. Sally had a tingling sensual impression of Gail's beautiful breasts swaying from side to side.
"Get it?" Gail asked. "My tits were shaking up a storm. And when the dumb kid tried to take his eyes off them, I just put one foot very gently on his belly. At this moment, he had a low. level view looking straight up my snatch between my legs. And as I kept my leg on his tummy, I gently rolled my foot and -- bingo!"
"Bingo?" Sally said.
Gail nodded. "Bingo! The kid came right in his pants!"
Sally gasped. "Then what happened?"
Gail waved her arms, stepping out with one shapely leg, and looking down. "The kid didn't know what to do! He was so embarrassed he ran right between my legs, I swear. Right straight out the door, holding his crotch and I think he was still coming when he ran out the door."
Sally blew out her cheeks. "Gosh, you were lucky. But you said something over the phone -- I forget what exactly -- about it bothering you? What happened then?"
"Simple," Gail said. "I was all hot and bothered. The kid didn't do anything. I turned and tossed all night." Her eyes gleamed as she looked down at Sally. "I don't suppose you have sly good ideas?"
Looking at Gail, Sally could feel herself moistening between her legs. She remembered how it had been the night before. Unbidden, she raised her arms.
Gail let herself down slowly, until her warm cunt was inches away from Sally's upturned face. "Would you -- please?"
Sally smiled, pulling her closer, feeling the soft wet lovespot of Gail on her mouth. Then, she was kissing it and sucking the warm, soft insides, feeling Gail gasp with ecstasy, feeling herself gripped and driven, by a strange madness, as if she had to devour this lovely cunt so conveniently placed at her mouth.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brian Barton sat at his desk going over the list on the paper in his hand. It spelled out in detail what he and his research crew had been digging up for the past few months. A car put out by American Cartel, one of the most powerful in the auto industry, had been proven a death trap. The car, called Pithon was, as its name indicated, deadly. Under careful tests, it had failed every available safety standard. Brakes would lock, and fail. The steering mechanism was faulty, linked with a pin made of porous metal that overheated and consequently split, sending the car hopelessly out of control. If this wasn't enough, the gasoline tank was not protected and subject to any rear-end collision would ignite and explode, trapping the car's occupants in a blazing inferno.
Barton trusted his mechanical research team, but as with everything he was involved in, had insisted upon test-driving the Pithon himself. It had been a hair-raising adventure and he could only thank his lucky stars that he was still alive after the field test, leaving the car a hopeless wreck.
Lobby Logic dealt with all matters of health and safety pertaining to the public. If the consumer used a product that in any way. proved deleterious to his welfare, it was Barton's job as acting head of the foundation to bring the matter to the attention of the authorities. Sometimes it was necessary to bring suit, representing a massive public lawsuit, against the manufacturer to bring him to heel if the various commissions were unwilling to act. Many cases had been settled out of court, the manufacturer proving unwilling to undergo the force of Barton's claims as brought out by the media. Some had been adjudged by the courts, resulting in restraint orders, others in modification of the product. The public was becoming aware of the zeal with which Barton pursued those who would infringe upon the tenets of the law, the unscrupulous ones who considered only profit as their aim, and the safety and regard of the public as negligible.
Single-handed, Barton had proven to be a thorn in the sides of those who had little regard for the masses, and his list of triumphs was growing. He was becoming dangerous, he knew; a marked man. His opponents were rich, powerful, and ruthless. They were individuals, true, but they would willingly combine and work together to drive him from their sight. He was interfering with their profits, their arrogant way of life. These people weren't accustomed to being questioned about their products or their methods.
The incident with Emma Barton's agent, Hocking, and his secretary was only one of the many ways they had used to get back at him. He had been followed by hired thugs, beat up, left a bloodied hulk, and yet he recovered and bounced back to have at them again. Private detectives had been hired to spy on him, to find some weakness in his personal armor. His whole life had been sifted through under careful scrutiny to find some evidence of malfeasance. That nothing had been as yet discovered meant little to the robber barons out to get him. They would keep trying, believing that every man has his price and is corruptible.
Barton, knowing all this, was careful to form no ties. He had no close personal friends, and since the unfortunate marriage with Emma Hooker, heir to millions -- his sole mistake when he was young and as yet uninvolved in his battles with big business -- he had been. extremely careful to form no new alliances of an amorous nature.
His private and personal. life was austere and simple. He owned no car himself, and those he used to get around were rented and changed frequently. He had no phone in his apartment, no frills, no television, no gadgets. He lived simply, ate simply, spent his days and nights buried in studies and his law books, searching for ways to combat the giant trusts. The trusts hired the most competent lawyers in the country and he had to make doubly sure of his grounds before he ever launched an attack.
Turning the page in his hand to another listing of the dangers in candles, he studied the report his research group had come up with, giving compelling evidence that millions of candles available to the public, and already sold to them, contained wicks that could cause lead poisoning. In view of the current energy crisis, Barton could foresee an increased usage of candles and the danger existing.
He glanced quickly down the page listing the demerits. There were several brands involved. A small yellow candle and a large round blue candle in a decordated container, both made by a well-known household detergent firm. One was for decorative .purposes, the other for warming food. This latter one was the product of a leading electric appliance company and its recently organized subsidiary.
Barton noted the facts. The core was a thin wire-like strand about which the wick was wound. It was made of lead and when it burned, fumes were created which were dangerous when inhaled -- especially in the confines of a closed room, whether house or apartment. In addition, particles of lead were thrown off which could settle upon food and be eaten.
Barton nodded. He would have to notify the Consumer Products Safety Commission first, ask its agency to collect other samples and begin an immediate testing program. He scribbled a notation at the bottom of the sheet. Will go with this after proper period allowed for agency testing. Check back two weeks. (Signed) Barton.
He turned the page to another sheet. This one was concerned with the hazards in toys for children. It listed an imposing array of dangerous factors. Glass and plastic items that would break and cut. Handles that were decorated with lead paint Doll heads painted with positively identified poisonous dyes. Carts and cars with improperly welded wheels suggesting falls and accidents. Toys that would explode. Toys that would send up poisonous smoke. Toys that would melt and cling to the skin and form rashes. Toys that would bounce back at unpredictable angles, capable of breaking other objects at hand. Toys that would wear out or break after but one brief tryout. Toys that frightened children into nightmares. Martial toys that could injure.
Barton whistled. The list went on and on. He put the paper down, shaking his head. This was too big a list and 'there were too many manufacturers involved for him to tackle now. He made a notation to the research team captain to link as many products as possible with single manufacturers. Meanwhile he would send letters to them, notifying them of the effects of their field tests, suggesting ways they could be sued for damages should they not better their, product.
Sighing, he threw his pen down. There was still a lot of work to be done and here he was without his secretary. He glanced at his watch. Sally had been gone for two hours now. Well, he couldn't blame her. He expected her to take whatever time was needed to help Gail. But, dammit, right now he needed someone to take shorthand, type some letters.
His desk intercom buzzed and he flipped the switch. "Yes?"
"Mr. Barton, this is Linda Dove."
"Who?"
"Linda Dove, the new temporary receptionist."
He thought Sally had mentioned the name but couldn't be certain. "Yes, Miss Dove. What is it?"
"I'm just filling in for your regular receptionist, you know. But there's nothing much to do out here and I wondered if you needed some shorthand or typing done. I'm very good at that Very fast. So I'm offering to help out if you do need me."
Barton smiled. "That's kind of you, Miss Dove. But if you come in here to work for me, who's going to watch the reception desk?"
She laughed. "Well, it's confusing but I've figured it out. Your regular secretary is out now, right?"
"Miss Parker? Yes. But I expect her back within a few hours."
"Okay, I wasn't sure because she. didn't say when she left. But one of your girls in the steno pool came in with a sprained wrist and can't do her work. So you can't use her as a sub either. But she's willing to come out here and pick up the phone, which she can do. So I'm free, if you want, to do whatever you need. Okay?"
"That's fine, Miss Dove. Come in when you have everything squared away at your desk."
"Will do."
He flipped back the switch, leaned back, folded his hands behind his head and smiled in satisfaction. He was always pleased when an employee would volunteer for extra duty, knowing how the typical one would rather sit around and do as little as possible, consumed by boredom, waiting only for the day to end.
Sally was the dedicated worker type, he thought, always ready, always willing to do whatever he asked, no matter how much overtime she had to work. In, the short time she had been with his organization, he had called upon her time and again when pressure built up and he needed fast and efficient communication. She was an excellent secretary, a good typist, and fast at shorthand. She had never once questioned anything he asked her to do, merely smiling and getting right to it. Come to think of it, he wondered, was the girl at least getting the proper salary for such loyalty and diligence? Although Lobby Logic was not affluent, nevertheless there was enough funding to afford proper pay for the staff. Sally Parker had never questioned her salary, had never once asked for a raise. It was about time he looked into it, he decided. Perhaps by the time she returned, he would have found a reasonable enough provocation to offer her more money. He nodded to himself, pleased at the thought.
Brian found the ledger in his desk drawer with the information he needed, and nodded again. As he thought, she had come in to work originally at a fairly low salary and it had never been adjusted. Not fair, he thought, shaking his head. He reached for his pad and scribbled a brief notation: Up Miss Parker's. While he screwed up his features trying to decide how much to increase her salary, he happened to notice what he had scribbled on the memo pad, Up Miss Parker's, he thought grinning, could be wildly interpreted. Underneath the scrawl, he hastily wrote weekly. Then he looked at it again and grinned. Still bordering on the preposterous.
He was still trying to decide how much to add to Sally's present weekly salary when there was a timid knock on his office door. He barked a response, the door opened, and in walked a stunning long-legged blonde.
Brian blinked following the lines of her curving voluptuous body, the high jutting breasts clearly visible under the sheer see-through blouse, the narrow waist, the curving hips, the long slender legs, and delicate ankles. Her eyes were a light blue, her nose pert, her mouth red-lipped and her blonde hair reached to her shoulders. He was about to ask what she was doing in his office and then he noticed the short secretarial pad in her hand and the fistful of pencils. As she came closer` undulating gracefully, she half-turned giving him a view of her lovely swelling buttocks.
"You are Linda Dove?" he said hoarsely.
"Yes, Mr. Barton. I don't believe we've met before. And I've heard so much about you, and always wanted to meet you, and here I am working for you. Isn't that marvy?"
Jestingly, he echoed her word. "Marry, Miss Dove. I hope the reality justifies your imagination's work."
She threw her head back and stroked her long hair, smiling. "You have no idea. Mr. Barton. Men like yourself are in the minority, I have found out."
Barton shrugged, muttered, "We do what we can do."
She stepped to the chair at the Corner of his desk and sat. He was impressed with her feline grace, watching her body flow in one continuous easy movemenu that was sensual and yet natural to a beautiful woman.
Linda raised her pad so that he could see it. "Any time you're ready, Mr. Barton. I imagine that you're anxious to get started."
He nodded curtly, picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and began to dictate. At first, he went slowly but soon discovered that this new blonde receptionist-stenographer-typist could. keep up with him easily. He sighed, relieved, and increased his pace. The blonde nodded and moved her hand in time with his words. Her speed was uncanny, he thought.
Barton moved from one piece of correspondence to another, thoroughly alert now to his dictation, able to move quickly without hesitation now as the new girl kept up with him.
They went on, Barton speaking quickly, the girl nodding 'her blonde head, scribbling her curlicues, seemingly absorbed in what she was doing, never checking back, never at a loss as to his meaning. Barton was absolutely delighted. This girl was a find and he determined in his mind to make sure that her employment with his organization was better than the temporary one that had brought her here. He wanted to ask her by what good fortune she had been directed to. his offices, but there was so much work to be done now and she was proving so adept and efficient at it, he put it out of his mind. Sally had lost a. lot of her work day the preceding day because of the rough incident with Hocking. Now a good part of this day's work had been lost too because, of the incident with her new friend Gail Troll. He couldn't blame her for what had taken place but he was aware of the need to keep up with his large correspondence.
Ruthlessly, he kept talking, and the new girl Linda Dove moved along with him, folding her little pad back as she completed each new piece of dictation. He watched her taking his dictation so easily, relaxed in her chair. Her legs were crossed, one leg high on the knee of the other. Her brief skirt was pushed back and he caught a glimpse of her shapely rounded thighs, and, again shook his head. Incredible for a girl to be so beautiful, he thought, and at the same time to prove so efficient. He knew before the day was out, he would make her an offer.
They had gone through several communications when Barton became aware that the stately blonde was turning her head in erratic motions and blinking. "Anything wrong, Miss Dove?"
She shook her head firmly and he thought perhaps he had imagined it. A moment later, her head lolled and he had the impression she was ill.
"If you're not well, we can continue later," he said.
"Oh, no," she said. "I'm fine, just fine." Her eyes looked into his, wavered, and suddenly the steno pad slipped from her hand. She reached down to get it from the floor and slowly slipped from her chair.
Barton leaped from his seat and came around the desk. The girl was on her hands and knees, apparently unable to get up. He reached down and put his hands on her waist. Even through her dress, he. felt her skin incredibly soft and warm, the flesh resilient and youthful. "Here. Let me help you up."
He pulled her to her feet and she collapsed against him. "Oh, I feel so dizzy," she said.
Barton puzzled by this sudden collapse thought of seating her again until she felt better. But she leaned heavily now on his arm, and he could feel the weight of her breasts like living things.
Her voice came weak and tremulous. "Oh, I knew I shouldn't have come in today. It's that darn virus."
His hand tightened against her waist and as he took the full weight of her body, strange feelings stirred in his loins. "Virus?" he said.
"I was out all last week with it. But I felt better today and then this chance came to get some work, and I thought I could manage it. I'm so sorry, Mr. Barton."
"It's all right," he said, genuinely concerned. "After you rest a while, perhaps you'd better take the day off. It's possible that you came to work a trifle too soon. And don't worry about it, please. As soon as you recover, I want you to come back here again and I'll find a steady position for you."
"Oh, you're so kind." She looked around vaguely and blinked.
He threw the steno pad on his desk. "Don't worry about it. We'll continue next time, when you're better. Now do you think you can get home yourself?"
She nodded. "Oh, yea, thanks. I'm fine. So sorry."
He let her go carefully and watched her movements. She took a few steps, wavered and seemed about to ` fall. Barton caught up with her. His arm went around her waist and again she leaned on him.
"Here," he said. "Let me help you. I'll walk you out to your car. Do you think you're all right to drive?"
"Oh, yes. Please don't trouble -- "
He got her out the door and went out his private side entrance to avoid any chance encounter with his staff. It was. becoming ridiculous, he thought. Some demon force was operating against him getting his work done. First Sally and then Hocking and then Gail and Sally again, needing to go to her aid, and now this new sensational secretary replacement. He wondered if perhaps it was his own fault and that he was driving the help to the limits of their endurance.
As they went along the narrow corridor, his arm held Linda Dove tightly locked to his side. 'Her waist was so narrow that his arm went nearly around her easily and his wrist was directly under the center point of her breasts. As they walked slowly, he felt them bouncing against his arm, and although he felt cheap about it, he could not resist slightly turning his hand to have them rest on his palm.
They were so soft, he had to struggle and use all' his self-discipline to keep from grasping them in his hands. It was just as well, he thought, that they encountered nobody on their way out. It wouldn't have looked at all well, he thought, for the boss to be seen steadying a beautiful blonde along, carrying her half-draped limply on his body, his arm wrapped around her like some sinuous rope. He felt his face flush, the faint dew of perspiration.
They reached the parking lot. "Which is your car?" Barton asked. "Then we'll see if you can drive."
She pointed limply to the near corner where visitors were allotted slots. "The yellow Pithon," she said.
Barton stiffened.' The car that he had spent so much of his time researching for flaws, the one responsible for so many accidents and fatalities. "How do you like it?" be asked.
"Oh, it's super," she said.
Yes, he thought, how odd that they all said that. The car looked a dream, streamlined and so deftly contoured that anybody would feel attracted to its lines. The engine was powerful, generating over 300 horsepower, and that too was an impressive feature. It was easy to understand its popularity. The fresh bright plastic colors, the streamlined body, the svelte leather-simulated upholstery, all the chrome and gadgets. It wasn't until one got into the car and put it through its paces that one knew what the car could do. And nobody could predict at what point of stress the Pithon would balk and strike back. It could be driven for hundreds of Miles safely and with no hint of failure, and then suddenly it would happen. The rear end disengaged. The front wheel lock. The yawing drift on turns that was not correctable.
He got the door open and looked down at the girl. She seemed so fragile and helpless as she stood there, trusting his strength to hold her up.
Barton set his jaw in a grim line, his mind made up. "Get in," he said firmly. "I'll drive you home."
She protested weakly but he was adamant. Finally, she let herself be persuaded. "I'm so awfully sorry to inconvenience you this way, Mr. Barton."
"Nonsense," he said. "I've always wanted to drive this baby. Now I've got the chance. Just tell me where you live."
Linda rested on the leather-like interior and he slid in behind her. He reached across the seat to buckle her in and again his hands burned at her warm resilient flesh. He pulled the sash tightly around her waist and again his hands brushed her breasts. They seemed alive as birds, ready to take off in flight.
She banded him the keys from her purse and he started the ignition. As he backed out of the lot, he saw her dress was hiked up again offering him a look at her lovely thighs. He forced his eyes away and concentrated on the turn. When he got out of the lot, her eyes were closed. Her blonde head lolled back. One arm was flung carelessly across the seat. It rested on his thigh and as he turned the wheel her hand came to rest almost directly on his fly.
Barton felt his loins stir, his core beginning to harden. He chewed at his lip, looked sideways at the blonde, saw her eyes closed, saw her breasts rise and fall easily.
Asleep already, he thought. The kid really must be ill. Her band. moved gently across his trousers and he knew he was going to have a beautiful bard-on before they made the corner.
He shrugged. What the hell!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Barton drove the Pithon carefully. He wanted no more accidents this day. Linda Dove's hand remained where she had let it drop when she dozed off, resting lightly on his fly. At times she twitched and moved and feeling her fingers move across the fabric of his pants made Barton horny and anxious to get the ride over with. The girl opened her eyes at times as if to check her surroundings. Once she moved her hand away, as if conscious of where it had somehow strayed. Barton, gritting his teeth, willed her hand back and then when her head lolled, and she closed her eyes again, he watched it slowly move as if on invisible tracks until again it rested on top of his aching cock.
It had been along time since Brian Barton had been out with a woman, and a much longer time since he had been even close to one like this stacked beauty. Although women found him attractive and tried to engage him, he was shy by nature and suspicious. He couldn't afford to let himself get involved. He knew how mistaken he had been.
Perhaps he had been working too hard, he thought now. He thought he had erected an ironclad facade that would protect him always from involvement after the disastrous affair with his first wife. Losing himself in the idea and principles of Lobby Logic had seemed the perfect solution. If a man kept busy, he would have no time to be tempted. He could keep all the hellcats of Satan away merely by being unavailable.
It all boiled down to the equation of the greater good as against his own. He had opted to deny himself and serve the vast public. Selflessness, that was his creed. A man needed very little to exist. Creature comforts could be denied. The pleasures of the flesh could be resisted. One merely kept his eyes straight on the goal ahead. That way was the way of the ancient mystics, the holy men of the East. They had learned to purge themselves of the boiling blood in their veins, to insulate themselves against all temptation. They learned not to want, not to desire, to exist only for the calm purifying serenity of their thoughts. That way was the road to Nirvana.
Barton turned the last corner approaching Linda's address, feeling her hand dig deeper into his crotch, seeing her relaxed sleeping body slide, her legs apart showing her glowing bare thighs. He shook his head. Nirvana was the way for the fanatics, he realized now. A far better way of life existed in the shapely package dozing lightly merely inches away from him. Barton groaned.
The girl came awake when he stopped the car, looking about her with a bewildered air as if unaware how she had arrived in front of her building.
"This it, Linda?" Barton asked.
"Oh, yes, thank you. That's my parking place, the last stall under the overhang."
He unfastened her seat belt and helped her out. She seemed to have recovered and was able to take a few steps without wavering. She pointed upward. "I'm up one flight. The stairs are around the side."
"Perhaps I'd better walk you up," Barton said. "Might as well see that you get inside all in one piece."
"That's very nice of you, Mr. Barton. I can't thank you enough. I don't know what came over me. I -- I felt so weak and dizzy. I think I slept all the way here." She darted a quick anxious glance at him. "Did I snore?"
He shook his head. He couldn't tell her she had a far better habit. His erection had diminished but he was still conscious of a prickling feeling there. She took his arm leading him to the steps. Then she let go and walked up a few steps ahead of him.
"I'd better get my land legs back," she said gaily.
He watched her go up; watching the marvelous buttocks tantalizingly close as they swayed inches away. Her legs flashed under her short skirt. As they reached the landing, she turned. "Do you have time to come in for a moment?"
He nodded curtly and she walked quickly ahead to open her door. But as she reached for her key, she wavered again and the key ring slipped from her fingers.
"I'll get them, Linda." He stooped and retrieved them. He got the door open and his hand was around her again as he led her inside.
"I'm all right now," she said. "How can I ever thank you?"
He shrugged. "It was nothing really, Linda. I hope you get over whatever you have, soon. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?"
She thought about it. Then she stepped close to him, her face upturned. Barton didn't remember how it happened but then he was kissing her. Her lips were warm on his and her tongue flicked inside his mouth searching for his. Her hands dropped to her sides as his arms went around her, and then he felt her hands at his fly.
"Um-h," she said in a husky voice. "I can see that I'm not the only one here with a big problem."
Barton didn't know quite how to answer her. He stood stock still letting her fingers explore the middle of his fly. She pressed hard, against his cock and he felt it leap and harden in response.
"We'll have to do something about that, I guess," she said. He couldn't believe it when she got his fly open. Then she had his cock in her warm hand and was pulling it out of his pants. "Oh, it's a big one. I'll have to suck this big popper."
Linda sank slowly to 'her knees. He stared down stupidly as she took his cock into her mouth. Her fingers pulled his balls out and she jiggled them in her hand. Then she slid her warm lips down along his hard shaft. He felt warm and stupidly formal in his coat and shrugged it off and threw it on the sofa. Then he loosened his tie. Meanwhile he :felt his entire being vibrating to the exquisite things she was doing to his cock.
"Sit down," she said. "I want you to really enjoy it."
Dazed, he let himself fall back on the sofa. Her eyes were dreamy and then she closed them as she sucked and pulled at his cock. Her breasts were too close now for him to resist and he reached out to grab them with both hands.
"Oh, that's marvy," she murmured. "Go on, squeeze them, please. Twist them hard. Rub my nips. I love it."
As he gripped tighter on her breasts and twisted them in his strong hands, she moaned happily. Her mouth gripped tighter on his inflamed cock and she began fluting movements with her tongue. Barton began to quiver.
Linda prodded him with her fingernails too as she sucked and Barton began to moan softly as his passion became more heated. Linda jerked her head, like a terrier with a mouse, sucking fiercely, making soft growling noises and Barton was perspiring, feeling the hot agony building up inside his balls, his loins on fire. He rocked on the sofa as she took more and more of his cock into her throat until finally he was coming, shooting his load jetlike into her avid mouth.
As Barton rocked and moaned, she took him deeply into her throat while milking his cock with tight lips and her fingers with one hand, squeezing his blasting balls with the other. She swallowed his juices avidly, greedily.
"Um, that was yummy."
When she lifted her head up, he saw her lovely eyes were unfocussed as if her driving passion had unsettled her mind. Before he could say anything, she was back at his cock again, giving him more head, purring contentedly. Her mouth clung to his long distended glistening shaft and she jerked her head from side to side as if trying to tear his cock out by its roots. Again her fingers tickled and played with his balls, and he was ready again easily. When he came, it was another storm breaking inside him and as he shot his gobs of semen inside her mouth, she devoured it as happily as if it were a milkshake.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It's been such a long time for me without a man, I guess I just went -- well, ape. Did I do a good job on your cock?"
Barton struggled for words. He couldn't find any handy, nodded instead, gulping for air. She grinned up at him. "It's okay. I know you liked it. Here's more fun for you. You've been working too hard."
He stared as if hypnotized as she got out of her dress. Her breasts hung in her bra heavily and she reached behind her back impatiently and then they were free. Barton seized them impetuously, then leaned down to mouth them.
As she took her skirt off, he could see her pubic hair through her sheer pink panties, almost determine the moistness in her crotch. She smiled up at him shamelessly and shrugged them off here hips: Barton stared shifting his eyes from her faultless breasts to her rounded belly and the flaring hips and the damp patch between her thighs.
Taking one of his hands, she placed it squarely on her vulva. Then she moved her hips and Barton felt her moistening. She moved slowly at first, pressing hard against his hand, welcoming its pressure. Then she moved closer and his hand had somehow found her clit and she moaned delightedly. She began to move faster, then almost frenziedly, and when she began to quiver he knew she was ready. She held tightly to him as her orgasm overpowered her. Then she reached for him, pulled his head down, and glued her lips on his.
She stood up and held his hand. She tugged leaning back and Barton understood. He followed her into her bedroom. Her hands were over him again impatiently wrenching at his clothes.
"Hurry up, lover man," she murmured. "I need a lot of loving fast and I think you can fill the bill."
Then she was on her bed, her legs spread apart, showing him her unblinking pink eye between the soft flesh. She pulled him down on top of her pressing him tightly against her breasts, then moved up and guided his head between her legs. He scented her slit now and wanted it.
His mind detached itself crazily. An inner voice censored him. "What is Lobby Logic doing down here?" He tried to ignore it, tried to lose himself in the girl's tempting flesh. She was rolling around, writhing sensually like an animal in heat.
"Oh, loving man, loving man," she. cooed. "You do have one big sweet cock."
Barton nodded, plunging toward her, ignoring the warning signals going off in his head. What was happening? This was crazy -- he didn't even know the girl.
Was it a trap?
Most women liked him for his mind, others for his stern and uncompromising attitudes, his character.
Now he was being loved and adored for his cock. He found himself responding to this turn of events in a visceral way, his emotions overriding his intellect. The girl was turning him on so wildly, he wondered if it could be love!
Could it be true? Could he really love?
Barton wasn't sure any more. There was a time, he remembered, but it was long ago. Yes, he thought, he had the makings of a stud then. Could fuck and fuck all day and night. But then the old lawyer whom he respected so had gotten to him, pointed out the path he had to follow, warned him that he had to give up the indulgences of the flesh if he wanted to make the most of his life.
Fucking was out. Big business was the target.
Barton sweated. No, they were wrong, all of them wrong. The body came first. You had to listen to the body and obey its urgencies. Otherwise you were nothing but a hulk of nothing.
Barton couldn't remember a sweeter experience than when he kissed her cunt, licking her slit, wallowing in the glory of her sensuous loins. He went at it inch by inch like a worm crossing an impossible barrier, licking her clot, her major and minor labia, then dipping his tongue inside her pulsating vagina.
"Oh, I love a man going down on me," she gasped. "Come on, lover, eat me quick. I got to come."
Then she was twisting and shuddering as he massaged her cunt with his lips and tongue, dipping his face deeply info her flowing juices. When she came, she clawed at his back ripping him with her finger-nails, screaming in her ecstasy. Barton winced but loved her reaction. He couldn't recall ever pleasing a woman that much.
Linda slipped her wet thighs closer around his face and he gripped her buttocks from behind pressing himself deeper into her drenching love spot. He gripped and stroked her soft smooth buttocks and fingered the deft between the plump cheeks and she gasped again with pleasure. He licked harder with his tongue curled snakelike, and then she began to quiver and shake again, clawing at him, ripping flesh off his bare back as she orgasmed in a tremendous convulsion.
She stared up at him misty-eyed. "Okay, lover boy, now I'm ready to get fucked. I want that big hard cock of yours way up inside me, so far that I can taste it in my throat. I want your balls shoved right up my snatch. Come on, baby, let's fuck."
She raised herself and straddled him. Then she grabbed his stiff cock and slowly eased her body down on it. She sank lower and lower until she rested on the hilt and he felt her warm plump buttocks on his balls.
"Umm, that is nice," she said. She wiggled her hips trying to get all of his cock and when she had it she began to ride him, going up and down, murmuring with closed eyes, head. thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh, do I ever love to fuck," she said. "Come on, Daddy, screw the hell out of me!"
He began to move, timing his movements to thrust upward against her, clutching at her breasts, squeezing them tightly. She loved being manhandled, that was evident, and ' the harder he gripped her breasts, the louder she moaned her pleasure.
Brian held her tighter and thrust more fiercely, feeling the hot juices boiling inside his loins. Her juices had wet her thoroughly now and her thighs were wet. He could hear his cock slopping around inside her, almost tasting the inner sweetness of her cunt.
She began to quiver again and moan, and Barton was close himself now and he thrust harder. "Oh, here I go, here I come, hold me, Daddy!" she cried.
He thrust again and felt himself exploding inside her.
"Oh, that's it! Shove it up me, darling, kill me with your stiff cock, let me have it all, baby ... Ooooh ... that's it ... oooh ... I'm coming again ... ohhhhh!"
Seconds later, they both collapsed on the bed and he felt the sheets wet beneath him. His back was tender where she had clawed away his flesh with her fingernails but Barton loved the torture. It made him feel more a man now, less a walking automaton. His hand went for her crotch and he felt' her damp pulsing cunt. His mind reeled as he again yielded to the old animalistic urges he had been persuaded to put behind him.
She detached herself from him and said she wanted to take a leak and a shower. Barton grinned at her frankness. He watched her move away in her naked beauty, her body a curving line of vitality and youth. He shook his head. What an ass he had been! To give up moments like these was the height of idiocy, and he had prided himself on being an intelligent man.
Brian sat up and reached for one of her cigarettes. He threw the match aside, savoring the acrid smoke. He had given up smoking, too. Another of the man-made invented evils!
It tastes good, he told himself. I'll worry about it tomorrow.
Linda came back wearing a short clinging robe. He wanted to grab her again but decided to wait. His cock ached and he felt drained. Out of practice, dammit! "Mind if I use your shower?"
"Hurry up," she said. "I want to suck your cock again."
He almost chortled as he hurried to the bathroom. She was like a child, a helpless thrall to her lusts. She had the right idea, Barton thought, marching off.
He turned on the hot water in the shower, rinsed, soaped, turned the water to cold and rinsed off again. He found towels and dried himself off. He turned his shoulders to survey the marks she had given him. The blood had washed off, but even so he could see the thin raking lines of her fingernails. Barton grinned.
Medals of love.
When he came back, she was waiting lying on her back, the robe discarded. She rolled over and he threw himself upon her and began kissing her, rubbing his face between her buttocks. She murmured softly and let him nose around, and then she went to her side and grabbed his cock in her fist.
She began to lick and suck him again and when he got very big and hard, she sighed contentedly. "Daddy, you got a cock like a big donkey. Let's use it."
She put it between her legs and moved around with her hips as she eased it inside her snatch. She let her hips grind in a slow circular movement and Barton went along for the ride. He pressed his face against her breasts and began to chew on her nipples. She cried out happily, almost squealing her joy.
"Ah, I like that ... eeeoooo, that's good ... bite the nips, lover ... harder ... ahhh, that's it ... oh, gee, woweee!" She began to move with hips receding and thrusting and he rode her, ramming her pistonlike, jamming his cock hard in her cunt, feeling his shaft go deeper with each thrust until his balls pressed and flapped against her bushy mound.
* * *
The buildup toward orgasm was slower this time for them both and Barton was in no hurry to end it all, doubting if he could have another. Then she began to gasp and he felt her tighten and quiver, and he was brought along on his own inner wave. She screamed again and clawed at his shoulders as her body was convulsed with the force of her orgasm and then Barton groaned and shot his load inside her.
She moved frantically to entice the last drop from him, then sagged back contentedly. She shook her head, her hair damp now. "Wow-eee!" she said. "You are really something!"
Barton nodded" silently smiling, feeling he had earned the accolade. He felt stronger, more alive than he had been in years. Was that all it took -- a little bit of pussy?
Something nagged at him. He resisted and then glanced at his watch. He stared at the hands. Two o'clock !
* * *
"What are you doing?"
"I just noticed the time. It's two o'clock. I've been out of the office almost three hours!"
She grinned. "So what? Wasn't it worth it?"
He slapped at her bare fanny and she shrieked. "You know it was," he said. Then, perversely, the unbidden words came. "Are you feeling all right now?"
She wagged her head, unaware of his dig. "Umm, you bet! Never felt better."
"Not duty or anything?" Barton said.
"Only with orgasms, Daddy. How many did I have -- seven, eight -- I lost count."
Barton was pulling on his pants. His voice came to him cold and distant, and he hated the sound of it. "Virus all gone?"
"Virus -- what virus?" She stared Suddenly at him, her face drained of color. "Oh, I see what you mean."
"Yes. It was a very sudden recovery. But then it also was a very sudden attack of virus, wasn't it?"
She recoiled from his stinging tone, his harsh face. "What's wrong?"
He levelled his finger sharply. "Who sent you over to my office?"
"Why, the employment office," she stammered.
"Which one? What's its name?"
She struggled to think, eyes frightened. "I -- I can't remember. Hey, what is this? What are you getting at? Say, didn't we have fun?"
He nodded coldly. "Lots of fun. But suddenly I have the distinct feeling it all happened too fast. That you were let into my offices as a plant. Were you?"
She avoided his eyes. "I don't know what you mean," she said sullenly.
Barton grabbed her wrist, swung her around. His hand flashed out rocking her cheek with a stinging slap. "Who sent you, Linda? Was it Emma Barton?"
Her eyes rolled frightened. "Who?"
He slapped her again, driving her head back. This time she flung her hands up protectively. "No -- don't hit me. I can't take it. Yes ... a Mrs. Barton called me ... gave me the lowdown. Somebody told her somehow you had a girl out today. I took a chance and went over. It all worked out fine, I thought: Until now, that is."
He loomed over her. "What was supposed to happen?"
She shrugged, still cowering. "I don't know. Somebody was coming over here, I guess. Later, at three. I was supposed to hold you till then."
Barton put his shirt and tie on, reached for his coat. "Sorry to spoil the fun. I have to leave now. Too bad, in a way."
"You mean because I was such a great speed merchant at shorthand?"
Barton grinned. "No, it was your other talent"
She stared. 'Which?"
He put on his coat. "Your cocksucking."
When he reached the door, he heard her sobbing.
CHAPTER NINE
Barton dropped a coin in the box at the corner gas station and called a cab. While waiting for one to pick him up, he had enough time to think over the events of the morning. He shook his head. Everything so far had been very unbusinesslike.
The cab came along and he took it to the Lobby Logic office. He had made up his mind to personally supervise the hiring of the new receptionist replacement when he walked in the building and he stopped dumbfounded.
Gail Trell smiled from behind her desk. "Good morning, Mr. Barton. Kind of late for you, isn't it?"
He nodded, walked quickly back to his office. As he came in his private door, he heard a familiar voice.
"Good morning, Mr. Barton."
He whirled. "Sally! Thank goodness you're back. Did everything go all right? I see you brought Gail back with you."
"Oh, yes. She'll be all right now. How did things go with you?"
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You'd never believe it."
She started guiltily. If asked how her day had been spent, honesty would have demanded a similar answer. Gail had been warm, loving, demanding. And she had been easily aroused. As usual, too easily.
It had been a continuation of where they had left off the night before, and they had taken turns at loving one another. Her breasts still tingled from Gail's touch and her love spot between her legs had been exposed not only to Gail's knowing mouth but her mechanical dildo, as well.
She doubted that she could ever explain in detail how the time had been spent, and she hoped Brian Barton would overlook asking. She glanced up at him covertly now, surprised to see him looking a good deal paler than usual. It's all my fault, she thought. Leaving him alone here to cope and worry while Gail and I indulged ourselves like two thoughtless children.
Aloud she asked, "Shouldn't I come in there and get going on some of that stack of correspondence you have?"
Barton exhaled dramatically. "Be my guest."
As she walked in, she noticed the steno book on his desk. Idly, she picked it up as she lowered her- self into the chair.
"What's this?" she asked.
Barton grinned ruefully, and rumpled his hair. "That's part of the unbelievable part of this morning while you were out, Sally."
She lifted her delicate eyebrows. "You mean you hired another secretary to take my place?"
Barton shook his head and cleared his throat.
"Not -- er -- exactly. When I came in this morning, if you recall, your friend Gail was not at her reception desk."
Sally nodded. "Yes, of course. But --"
Barton went on doggedly, his eyes averted, face strained. "Later, after you left to pick up Gail, there was a replacement girl there. Remember?"
Again she nodded, remembering the girl who had been at the desk reading a book. Taking advantage of company time, she had thought. "I remember," she said uneasily. "When I left to drive out to see Gail, she was there. I never did ask her name."
Barton laughed shortly. "Linda Dove. Did she tell you the employment agency sent her over?"
Sally frowned trying to remember. "I -- think so."
Barton grinned sardonically. "Exactly. After you left, she called me. Said she had noticed I was without a secretary for the time being. She added that she was a pretty good one and offered to help me out -- either with shorthand dictation or typing."
Sally flushed. Again she had misjudged a person. She wondered if this was getting to be a habit now with her. She flipped the little steno book open, frowning. "So this is Linda Dove's book?"
Barton nodded. "She came in here and took several pieces of dictation before -- uh -- she took suddenly ill."
"Ill," Sally asked.
"Yes. Some kind of virus, she said, that she had been troubled with recently. It happened just as we were going along splendidly."
Sally frowned again, shaking her head. Barton looked down at her, wondered if she was angry with him.
"This book?" she asked. "Is this what she used taking her notes?"
"Of course," Barton said. "And she was really very fast, too."
Sally couldn't contain herself any longer. She started to laugh. "Well, that explains it," she said. "Explains what?"
"This steno book. Have you looked at it?"
Barton shook his head. "No. What would be the point? She still has to be able to read it back to transcribe it."
"I doubt that," Sally said. "Neither she nor anybody else would be able to read it back to transcribe it or anything else."
Barton stared. "What the hell are you saying?"
Sally tossed the book on his desk. "It's not short-hand dictation. I don't know what it is. Just scrawls. No wonder your temporary girl was so fast. She was just bluffing you, Mr. Barton. She just wrote chicken tracks. Gibberish."
Barton grabbed the book and opened it. As he flipped page after page, the muscle alongside his jaw twitched. He threw it down, at last. "Well, I'll be double-damned! She conned me perfectly! Nothing but hen tracks!"
Sally looked puzzled. "But -- I don't understand. How could an agency send over a girl with no secretarial; experience"?
Barton cleared his throat. "That's just the point, Sally. It didn't."
"But then -- how did she get here?"
Barton shrugged. "I think you can put it down- to more of my wife's work."
"Mrs. Barton? But how could she -- ?"
"I don't know. Somehow she got wind of Gail's temporary absence, and then yours. Maybe they have spotters outside. However it was done, the plan didn't work."
"What plan?"
Barton stared helplessly down at her. "I don't know that, either. All I know is, that when I took Miss Dove home --"
Sally sensed his uneasiness. "You mean when she took ill?"
"Yes. She had impressed me so with her speed and alertness, you see. I thought whatever it was that ailed her would clear up soon, and that we would have another good secretary around to help out -- er, in emergencies."
Sally nodded. "Yes, I can see that. You had no idea then she was faking."
Barton mopped his brow. "Naturally not. But she seemed so ill that I thought it unwise to let her drive herself home. She also happened to be driving one of those treacherous cars -- the Pithon. I've been hammering away at how unsafe that car is."
"Oh, that's terrible," Sally said. "In other words, she still thinks she has a position here?"
"Well, not exactly," Barton said haltingly.
"But, Mr. Barton, you said -- "
Barton waved his hands. "We won't have to worry any more about Linda Dove working here. When she recovers from her imaginary virus, I suppose Emma will find another assignment for her."
"But how did you find out? I mean, about Emma --"
Barton gnawed on his lower lip. There seemed no other way out for him but to admit the truth. "She seduced me," he said.
It was Sally's turn to look dumbfounded. "You what?"
Barton shrugged. "Well, you remember that Miss Dove was a very attractive girl, don't you ?"
"I suppose," she admitted grudgingly, remembering the very attractive blonde with the curvaceous figure.
Barton made a motion with his hands palms up. "Then you know how these things can happen. No sooner did I walk her into her apartment, than she seemed to fall into my arms. The rest was, well -- mechanical."
Sally glared. "I'm sure it was."
"Anyway," Barton said, "it's all over. I as much as told her then I suspected what she was up to, when I found out she wanted to keep me there. Then she admitted my wife put her up to it. So that's all over now. How about some dictation?"
"That's what I'm here for." She crossed her legs and held her pencil poised over her steno pad. Barton began to dictate slowly. She wondered at his lack of fluency this day and suddenly discovered the reason. He was staring at her legs, as if seeing them for the first time.
Sally grinned. About time he noticed her, she thought. Perhaps now that he had admitted having an affair so fast with the temporary Miss Dove, he might give her a second look from now on.
Barton, for his part, needed no second looks. He saw what he should have noticed months past, perfectly formed legs. Her waist was slim too, he noticed, and her breasts seemed large and round. Firm, too, I'll bet, he thought. Incredible, he thought, that he had never taken a good look at Sally till now. She was pretty too, cheerful, and efficient. He groaned inwardly at his lack of appreciation. Here he had a jewel right at his fingertips and instead he had allowed himself to fall for the first sexy opportunist to come his way. As gullible as a schoolboy. Easy to make.
The only good thing to come of it all was his arousal again to the demands and needs of his body. For too long now he had been a machine, dedicated to working, ignoring the demands of the flesh. Well, thanks to the company spy, Miss Linda Dove, he had his blood going again. Looking down and across at Sally's curves, he felt suddenly happier and alive.
The phone rang. Barton impatiently picked it off the cradle. "Yes?" he barked.
"Long distance calling," the operator said. "Person-to-person. Is this Mr. Brian Barton?"
"Yes. Who's calling, please?"
"Las Vegas, Nevada. Go ahead, please."
"Hello, darling. This is Emma."
Barton's jaw gaped. "Emma?"
Her voice was cool, silvery, the way be remembered it. "Your ex-wife, darling. Surprised?"
"Yes. Considering a lot of things, yes, I am. Surprised that you have the gall and effrontery to call --"
"Please, darling," she interrupted. "That's why I'm on the phone now. I only just learned of the last incident with Miss Linda Dove. You'll have to take my word for it that it was none of my doing."
Barton laughed harshly. "Your word? What's that worth?"
"I know. The. record speaks for itself, as I've heard. you say too many times. At any rate, what happened was a trumped-up affair. Believe it or not, darling, there are others in this country out to get you and I have no priority in that regard. There are powerful people with legitimate business grievances against you who will stop at nothing. And in this last particular incident, someone used my name to get a job done. Someone, I'm sorry to say, whom I trusted. It won't happen again." She laughed lightly. "Of course, had the plot been successful, I'd have been happy to take' all the credit. I've never had any use for failures -- especially someone else's."
Barton held his hand over the mouthpiece and winked down at Sally. "My wife. My ex," he whispered. "She's telling me the frame was none of her doing." He shrugged, disbelieving.
Sally nodded. "Do you want me to leave? It sounds like a personal conversation." She was half out of her seat.
Barton waved her back. His eyes took in the swelling lines of her plump rounded buttocks admiringly. He shook his head, pointing with his forefinger for her to remain.
He cleared his throat. "All right, Emma," he said. "Let's say I believe you and accept your explanation. It doesn't mean a thing. There have been far too many instances of your vengeance and attempts to ruin me during the past year. This last one only one of many. And at least you provided pleasant temptation. Or your alleged business associate did. I can't complain about Miss Dove's lovemaking. She did everything an accomplished courtesan could do to make me happy. To "tell the truth, I enjoyed every minute of it."
Brian sensed the bitterness and hurt in her filtered voice. "Well, all right. If that's the way you want. to take it. But if you want to give me another chance to clear myself with you, I'll tell you something more definite. The other day one of our agents secured some rather nasty. evidence in the way of simulated photos in your office -- "
"Yes," Barton said. "Hocking. A good man with the fix. I bloodied his nose but he managed to get away. Next time I run into him, I hope to make the damage more lasting."
"I can understand how you feel, Brian. What I'm going to say now will surprise you but it's the truth. I have the photos right here with me. And. I'm willing to turn them back to you."
"Why?" he asked.
"So that you won't have to suffer any Of this hideous blackmail Also the girl Hocking deceived and drugged. I don't want any part of this kind of thing. It's gotten way out of hand."
Supposing I believe you," Barton said. "What then ?"
"I'm staying at the Sand Dunes in Vegas. If you care to come up, I promise to deliver the photos to you."
Barton frowned, wondering what she was up to. "What's the catch, Emma?" he asked. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"You won't believe this either, but it's because of that car you've been trying to get action against."
"The Pithon? What about it?"
"I found out the hard way that you were right. I drove one up here and had an accident."
"What happened?"
"The steering wheel locked: The car went helplessly out of control. I spun off the road and crashed into a parked truck."
"Where you hurt?"
"Only my pride, darling. But the car was demolished. Proving again what you have always said -about it. The accident has opened my eyes. I was really thinking it was 'Nearer to Thee my God' time, and it scared the holy hell out of me. I'd never thought about my own death before. Funny," she paused, "I'm almost glad the accident happened."
"It usually does take one," Barton said. "I'm sorry you had to find out through personal experience. Would you be willing to sign an affidavit about your accident?"
"Certainly, darling. Really, how pigheaded do you think I am? Losing you was one thing. What kind of love affair do you imagine I would have for a car?"
"I have no idea," Barton said dryly.
She laughed. "I suppose I deserved that, too. Well, it's up to you. If you care to retrieve the photos, I'll be perfectly willing to hand them over to you personally. You understand, of course, why I wouldn't risk having them delivered to you."
"Yes, I suppose." There were too many ways for the photos to become diverted and instead sent into the hands of people anxious to tear him down and destroy his image with the public. He nodded, coming to a decision. "Very well, Emma. I'll take a chance. I'll be up there sometime late this evening."
"Fine," she said. "If I'm not here, I'll leave a number where I can be reached. Where will you be staying?"
"I haven't made up my mind yet."
"All right, darling. Call when you arrive."
He heard the click in his ears as she hung up, and slowly he replaced the phone on its cradle. He swivelled around on his desk to see Sally looking at him with large, wondering eyes.
"Are you going someplace?" she asked.
He nodded. "You, too. You'll just have time to hurry home and pack an overnight bag, Sally. I'll need you with me."
She glanced at him dumbfounded and he explained. She could understand his need for the photos,- and she understood too how important it was for her own sake that Barton recover them before they should fall into the wrong hands. The idea of traveling to Vegas with him, while heady, was tempered by his assurance that it was a business trip. Businessmen were sometimes accompanied by their secretaries, she knew, and inasmuch nothing had happened so far to suggest anything different in their relationship, she could see no reason for refusing to go along.
Except, of course, that one fervent kiss in her apartment; but she wondered if he even remembered it. Brian had certainly given her no indication that he did. ... She stood up. "Where shall I meet you?"
He picked up the phone again. "Let me get a reservation for us on the early evening flight and then we can meet at the airport." He dialed and spoke curtly into the phone, scribbled on his pad, and hung up. "All set. Meet me in time for the eight o'clock flight to Vegas."
As she went out, she said, "I've never been to Vegas before, Mr. Barton. Do you think we'll have time to do any gambling?"
Barton smiled. "We'll be gambling every minute that we're there, Sally." Seeing her surprised look, he added,. "With our lives. I'm still not certain I can trust Emma. But it's important for us both that I try to reclaim those incriminating pictures they took of you."
She nodded, silently. Yes, knowing Emma and how she hated him, it would be a gamble for them in many ways.
Sally could hardly believe she would be in Las Vegas in only a few hours. Fun City. She had beard so much about it, yet never been there. It was a romantic spot too, and she wished she were going with Brian under different circumstances. Perhaps another time, she thought silently.
She calculated carefully. the time she needed to go home and throw some things together while she transcribed her notes, and left her desk in order. Barton's door was closed and she didn't want to interrupt his thinking. She was on her own, she realized.
On her way out, she stopped at the reception desk.
"Good night, Gail. I'll see you Monday."
Gail looked up at her, surprised. She glanced at her watch, shaking her head. "What's going on? You keeping banker's hours? It's not near quitting time, Sally."
"I'm going up to Vegas with Mr. Barton."
Gail's jaw dropped. "What?"
Sally nodded. "It's a sudden business trip and he needs me along. I can't explain now but I will when I get back."
Gail whistled. "Vegas over the weekend with the boss? Sally, what's happened?"
"I told you, Gail. Business."
Gail's lip curled. "I'll bet. Don't you mean monkey business ?"
"Hardly that, Gail. Mr. Barton doesn't even know I'm alive. It's something to do with his ex-wife and getting back the pictures -- " She stopped suddenly aware of her breach.
"Pictures?" Gail echoed frowning. Then she nodded. "I get it. What happened yesterday with that phony guy who broke in? Hocking, wasn't that the name he used? You never told me he took pictures, Sally. You mean he --?"
Sally shook her head firmly. "Please don't ask me any more now, Gail: If the trip is successful, I'll be able to tell you all about it on my return. But a lot of strange things have been happening here lately. For example, did you know you had a replacement here while you were out? And that she tried to compromise Mr. Barton while taking my place as secretary?"
"What? You putting me on?"
"It's the truth. And when I get back, perhaps I'll have more to tell you about that, too."
Gail put on a smile. "Okay, kid. Have a good time. Sure wish I was going along. Maybe when you get back you'll have forgotten all about -- us."
Sally shook her head firmly. "No, Gail. Never. We'll talk about it later. I have to run now." She waved and. ran out the door, feeling very warm and trembling. There, was no mistaking the look of pure jealousy Gail stowed. I'll call her at home when we get there, Sally decided. Perhaps that will cheer her some.
She drove home in record time, quickly showered and changed. When she left her apartment, she carried a small overnight bag. Inside was her sheerest shortie nightie.
* * *
She paced nervously along the tile floor of the airport terminal. The flight clerk called for ticket holders to board the Vegas flight and she watched the other passengers going to the window and then through the gate. Had Brian forgotten the time? Was he stalled in traffic? They were announcing the last warnings to board when she spied his tall, angular figure dashing through the doors, and waved.
Seconds later they were through the doors and sitting side by side on the crowded plane. Barton grinned and patted her hand. "Don't scold, Sally. I was delayed because I tried to get you something for the trip that you might like."
"Well, for goodness sakes -- what?"
He handed it across to her, a trifle shamefaced. She ripped the colored ribbon off the box, pulled the tissue wrapping paper aside, and stared. Inside the box was a sheer shortie nightie!
She looked up at Barton, tongue-tied. He shook his head, pointed to the glowing overhead lighted sign. Please Fasten Seatbelts.
She watched the runway slide blurringly past and then the plane soared upward. She held the gift box from Brian on her lap, her mind whirling. What did it mean?
Relax, she told herself, you'll find out soon enough when you get there.
CHAPTER TEN
Brian dozed fitfully on the brief flight across the desert. Sally glanced covertly at his profile as his head nodded in sleep. Her sympathy was tempered by the thought that he could have been so tired because of his sexual exploits with the blonde company spy Linda Dove. She had to remind herself that she was going along as a secretarial companion and nothing else. Apart from the gift Brian had brought her, he had ventured nothing of a personal nature. From any other man, there could have been no possible misinterpretation; it would've been a vulgar and cheap thing to do. But not from Brian. And although it was an intimate gift, still it was purchased for her with nothing but its strictest utility in Brian Barton's precise and mechanical mind.
Sally sighed. Well, she wouldn't be the first girl to misinterpret kindness for romance.
After they landed, s taxi took them from the airport and drew up at a large illuminated palatial setting that seemed like something out of the Arabian Nights. Giant palms loomed upward towering to the brilliant purple sky. Millions of stars twinkled over-head. Expensive cars parked by the elaborate entrance and expensively dressed people walked inside. They seemed to be happy and gaily aroused, many of them lovers.
She followed Barton's long-legged stride to the front desk where he set down his attache case. Sally waited until he had conversed with the clerk, stepping politely out of earshot. She felt a firm pressure on her arm and glanced up.
Barton grinned and waved keys. "Come on. We're in luck. They had adjoining rooms."
As they stood side by side in the elevator, she asked, "Where are we?" Seeing his puzzled stare, she added, "What hotel, I mean? I didn't notice."
Barton grinned. "The Taj Palace. One of the city's newest Arabian style hotels. Omar the tentmaker would have, passed it by."
"Perhaps. I like it anyway. This is my first trip to Vegas, you know."
Barton glanced at his watch. "Maybe I can. show you a good time before it's over, Sally. This business with Emma shouldn't take very long. I've already made arrangements at the desk for a notary to be on call when we see her. I'll just need you along to take notes for her affidavit and for whatever else comes up."
She nodded, followed him into the adjoining rooms. She whirled around excitedly. "It's beautiful! So elegant!"
Barton shrugged. "They're all pretty mach the same. They have to keep up with the competition. Now I'll let you have fifteen minutes to freshen up while I arrange to meet Emma, and then we'll run over to Emma's hotel. After that, we'll have dinner."
Dancing would be better, she thought, brushing her hair.
Barton nodded approvingly when she was ready. "You get better looking all the time," he said.
Moments later they were in another cab hurtling across the dark night. Sign after sign proclaimed the attractions at the various Las Vegas clubs. She hadn't realized there were that many. The last one was the largest, most garish. Intricate lighting spelled it out overhead: Sand Dunes.
Barton headed for the house phone. She waited until he got through, watched him speak quickly, and hang up. He turned and found her arm, propelling her along. "She's got the Penthouse Suite. Hatch. Come on."
He knocked on the door and almost instantly it opened. The woman who stood in the doorway was wearing a low-cut dress that contained no secrets. Her breasts were pushed together and thrust out, barely short of revealing the nipples. She moved gracefully, showing a slit skirt halfway up one leg.
"Brian! How nice! And this lovely little thing is --"
"Sally Parker, my secretary," Barton said. "Sally, this is Emma Barton."
"How do you do," Sally said politely.
"I do as well as I can," Emma said softly, sarcastically.
The room was large, with windows on two sides and doors leading to other rooms at the far end. It was furnished with a dazzling array of sleek and ex-pensive chairs, sofas, and wall hangings.
Emma led them to a bar midway across. "Let me fix you a drink, first. You do drink, don't you, Brian?"
Barton shrugged. "I'll have one for the occasion."
"We're out of ' milk. Will you have Scotch or a martini?"
"Martini's fine, Emma. How about you, Sally?"
"I'll have the same."
"Wonderful." She poured from the iced pitcher into chilled glasses, handed them to" Brian and Sally, then poured another for herself. She raised her glass. "Cheers."
"Cheers," Barton said, downing his drink at one gulp. "Now if we can get down to business, Emma. First, the pictures, if you don't mind. We'll finish our drinks while we wait for the notary to get here. And then Miss Parker will take whatever statement you care to give me regarding your accident in the Pithon." He looked her over critically and shook his head. "Your luck still holds good. I can't see a scratch, Emma."
She smiled, her dark eyes veiled. "Not all bruises are always visible, Brian. As a good lawyer, you ought to know that"
He nodded. "True."
Emma pressed a switch on a small desk intercom. "We're ready," she said. "Mr. Barton would like the pictures first."
Sally noticed Brian quickly shift his feet and look around the room. A door opened and three men walked out. They wore dark business suits and bulked largely in them.
Barton looked at them and shook his head. "You must have pressed the wrong button, Emma. I don't see any pictures."
"Oh? They're coming now. That door behind you."
Sally didn't know the first man entering. But she recognized the grinning blond man holding the gun.
Too late, Sally heard Barton's warning as he hurled himself at Andrew Hocking. His hands had Hocking by the throat and then she saw the blurring motion of the upraised arm and the awful sound of the crunching gun that battered Barton's head. Barton sagged and the other man stepped in quickly and drove a hard blow into his stomach and the redhead, went down.
Sally screamed. "My God, he trusted you! What, are you doing?"
Emma Barton smiled. "Stick around and you'll find out, sweetie. I couldn't believe Brian would be stupid. enough to come here unprotected. Did he really think I would hand over those pictures? My God, doesn't, he know my one dream is to ruin him -- in every possible way?"
"He trusted you," Sally repeated dry-mouthed. She' ran across the room to go to Brian's aid but at one imperative gesture from Emma Barton, one of the plug-uglies grabbed her.
"Hold it, cunt," he said.
She struggled to 'get free, flailing at him. He grinned and held her hands behind her, pressing them against the center of his body. His free hand swept around her and she felt him at her breasts, squeezing them, fondling them.
"Hey, am I paying you to enjoy yourself?" Emma said.
He shrugged. "This one Ill do for free. What a pair of tits l"
Emma shrugged. She turned to Sally. "You see how it is with the help these days?"
Brian groaned and struggled to sit up. Hocking stood over him waiting. Suddenly he drew his foot back. It lashed forward catching Barton on the side of the jaw. He grunted and fell back again. "That's one I owe you," Hocking said.
Sally screamed. "Stop that!" She struggled wildly to get free, but the man holding her was too strong. She bit her lip as his hand lasciviously caressed her.
"Easy, baby," he said softly. "Take it easy. You'll burn out the engine."
Brian grunted and sat up again. His forehead dripped with blood flowing from his scalp wound. An ugly welt was turning purple the full length of his jaw. His eyes focussed, finding his ex-wife. "I should have known better," he said hoarsely. "Once a bitch, always a bitch!"
Emma leaned over him solicitously. "What are you saying, Brain Boy? You came here for pictures, didn't you? Well, I'm going to keep my word. We're going to have pictures, all right. Lots of pictures." She gestured to one of the men. "All right, Louie. Let's get started."
The man dipped into his pocket and came out with a camera. "I'm ready. How do you want them?"
Emma smiled viciously. "Start with the girl. Maybe she's wearing too many clothes."
"You're insane! That notary will be here any second!" Brian said.
Emma smiled sardonically. "I told him not to bother."
As the men came at Sally and started to strip her, Brian roared and came to his feet again. Hocking and the second man both hit him then and again he crumpled to the floor, blood streaming from his mouth.
When he opened his eyes, Sally saw the fire blazing helplessly in them. "It's all right," she said. "It doesn't matter what they do. I'm not worth getting yourself killed over."
Brian shook his head. He struggled to his feet again. Emma made another quick signal with her head and the men closed in on him, drawing his hands behind his back.
Sally had time to breathe a sigh of relief that they hadn't hurt him again, when she felt strange hands around her. One man held her tightly, while another ripped at her dress. In a moment, she was in her bra and panties.
"Hold it there," Emma said. "Let's get some of that."
The man aimed his camera and then she signalled to the dark-haired stocky man who had been free with her breasts.
"I'm always ready," he said hoarsely. "You know that"
"Okay, Frankie. Get her started. But give us time to get the pictures. And don't forget, we want my ex-hubby to get a good look at what's happening."
"Sure thing."
Sally looked blankly from one to the other, wondering what they intended doing. She gasped as Frankie hit her deep in the pit of her stomach. As she crumpled to the floor, she saw his hands fumbling with his, zipper, and then she saw his thick cock hanging out; an immense, dark, solid, batlike object.
The dark-haired man grinned at Hocking. "You had your kicks at the office: It's my turn now, pal."
Reaching down, he grabbed Sally's hair in one hand, and thrust himself forward. "Okay, cunt," he said growling. "Start eating my cock. And do a good job so your boss will find out what he's been missing."
She gagged as the hard thrust of it was crammed deeply into her mouth. She heard Brian yell and then rolling her eyes, saw him being pulled back as he lunged from the chair.
Better this way, she thought. Get it over with and perhaps they will spare him.
She began to suck, making herself sigh with contentment. Sally had a plan and quickly went to work on the tough man's cock. She gave him fast head, sliding her mouth up and down on his engorged cock, compressing her cheeks and using the tip of her tongue.
He began to shiver and tremble and she took his cock in her hand and played with his balls. Then she sucked fiercely, driving fast up and down and pressing on his cock and balls. He came much sooner than he expected or wanted to, and she took him deep inside her throat, letting his load come, draining him dry. When she finished, she looked up at him smiling. "Want another?" she asked. "Or is one your limit?"
He stared down at her shocked and surprised. "Sure, I'll take seconds," he said. "Only take it easy, will ya? I came before I was ready. Do it slow."
Emma stepped forward. "Hold it, Frankie. I got a much better idea for your cock."
He looked angrily at her. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"
She gestured toward Barton. "I think my ex-hubby would like to suck you off. Wouldn't you, Brian darling?"
Barton curled his lip and spat blood on her carpet. "Try it," he said. "I'll bite it off."
Emma shook her head. "That's not being very co-operative, you know. Maybe this will help make you more adaptable."
She moved swiftly to the desk, and stepped away. Before Sally could move, Emma had her tightly by the hair with one hand. The other held a thin sharp-pointed stiletto at her throat. "If you don't suck Frankie off, Brian baby, then I'll just have to carve some initials in this pretty little face."
Sally winced, her eyes rolling at the knife. She was terrified now at the threat. But as frightened as she was, she could not but wonder how Brian would take the upcoming indignity.
Emma snapped her fingers. "Okay, Frankie, get going. Can't you see that he's waiting?"
The dark-haired lout edged closer apprehensively. "Hey, wait," he pleaded. "You sure he wants it? What if he bites it off, like he says?"
Emma laughed. "So what? Then I'll cut his lady friend's throat. He wouldn't like that."
Barton leaned forward, his eyes blazing, ignoring the hoods. "Emma, you'd better listen before you do any more damage. I left word at my office that I was meeting with you up here. You'll have to kill me to get me to do what you have in mind. That's a murder rap for you. And as for your five hoods here, they'll get ten to twenty years for collusion with you and compounding a felony. I'll testify personally as to the criminal nature of the assault on my secretary Miss Parker, and I guarantee that if you don't call off your dogs and let us out of here, I'll see you all in jail."
The stocky hood called Frankie looked at Emma worried. "Hey, what's he saying? He talks like a lawyer."
Emma scoffed. "He. used to be a lawyer. Now he's going to be a pretty dead mouthpiece. Don't let him scare you, Frankie. Shove that big cock of yours in Mr. Barton's mouth. I want pictures to show what a cocksucker he really is."
Frankie shook his head stubbornly. "No, thanks. For one thing, that guy looks like he'll bite it off like he said. And for the other, if he's a mouthpiece also like he said, I ain't goin' for no ten to twenty rap. If. it's all the same to you, Mrs. B -- include me out."
Emma motioned to the blond man Hocking. "Give me your gun."
Hocking strode closer and handed her his automatic.
Emma sighed. "Sorry about this, Frankie. You ought to know I give the orders around here."
She steadied the gun with both hands, aimed quickly and pulled the trigger. Frankie screamed and staggered back.
"You cunt -- you lousy, rotten cunt -- you shot off my cock!" He groaned, agonized.
Sally stared. Frankie was holding a bloody stump in his hands. Blood gushed from the wound through his trembling fingers.
Emma spoke to the others. "Take him inside. Put him in the tub. If he bleeds to death, we'll drop him off out of town."
The two hoods took hold of the white-faced man and dragged him through the door in the rear. Sally heard him scream once more. Then she heard a muffled thud and the sound of running water.
Emma swung the gun around and leveled it at Barton. "You're next," she said. "That cock of yours never did me any particular good. We might as well get rid of it like Frankie's "
To Sally's surprise, Barton smiled' through his bloody features. "You got off a lucky shot then, Emma. The odds are fifty-to-one against your repeating it. If you miss, I get the bullet in the belly and if I'm dead, so are you. Go ahead, pull the trigger:. I'm willing to bet my life you'll lose yours."
Emma shook her head violently and held the gun out, bracing it with both hands as she leveled it below Barton's belt. Her hand wavered.
Sally wanted to scream, watching the battle for. supremacy. Then to her amazement, Emma slowly lowered her hand. The gun swung limply at her side. Her face was deathly pale.
"All right, you sonofabitch," she said hoarsely. "But I don't have to kill you to get what I want. All I need are enough pictures. Get on your hands and knees, Brian. I'm going to let Hocking shove his cock up your ass and Ralph will snap the shutter. If you don't do as I say, I guarantee we'll fill you full of booze and when you're out, I'll let all my boys take turns fucking the life out of your pretty little secretary."
Barton stared as she took a quick step and leveled the gun against Sally's head. "Maybe this will be quicker," she said. "You can have it any way you want it. Miss Parker dead or fucked four ways to midnight."
Barton shook his head. "Untie my hands," he growled. "I'll let you do what you want with me. Leave Miss Parker alone."
Hocking and Ralph stepped forward and released Barton. He rubbed his numb wrists. Then he threw off his coat and loosened his belt. He led it fall below his knees and then fell forward nodding to Hocking. "Come on, Hocking. Get it over with."
Hocking licked his lips. To Sally's surprise, he seemed delighted at the opportunity. He took his cock out of his pants. It jutted out at a formidable angle.
Sally closed her eyes as the sound of heavy breathing began and became louder. Her heart pounded in her throat. Once she thought she heard Brian cry out, but she wasn't sure and kept her eyes resolutely closed, feeling cold waves of fear running down her back. It seemed hours before she heard Emma's voice.
"Very good, Hocking. Did you get all that on film, Ralphie?"
"Yeah."
Sally opened her eyes. Tears flooded them instantly as she saw Brian lying on the floor, his head cradled in his arms. Hocking was just getting up from his position, and she saw his huge white cock had lost its earlier erection and now hung slack and limply between his legs.
"That was good, Brian," Emma said. "You took it in the ass like a veteran. I really think you enjoyed yourself that time. What do you think, Hocking? Did he get his rocks off?"
Hocking shrugged, putting his sore cock away. "I don't know. I got mine off. I can tell you that. The guy's got a real tight ass."
Emma smiled. "Really? I think I know how to handle that." She turned to survey the room. "Oh, yes, that big candle ought to do the trick."
Sally stared wonderingly as Emma walked quickly across the room. She returned with a large candle, about a foot long and as wide as her fist. She blew out the flame smiling.
She stood close to Barton and showed him the candle. "I hope you still feel like playing the hero," she said with an evil smile. "My next idea is to light this candle and I have two choices of where to stick the other end. Either up your ass, darling, or Miss Parker's. Which would you prefer?"
Barton stared up at her, his face gray, stained with the streaks of dried blood. His head rolled on his neck and his muscles ridged like cords. "Do your worst, Emma. You can't kill me and I won't let you touch Miss Parker again. If you do, I swear I'll break your neck personally with my own two hands."
Emma nodded coolly. "That's just fine, sweetie. Now bend over like a good little boy so Mama can shove this great big candle up your nice tight little ass."
Again Sally shook her head, her voice strangled in her throat at this new bizarre cruelty. She knew she would rather die than submit to this kind of humiliation and pain, and yet Barton was volunteering his own body for it to protect her. She stared as Emma drove the candle in, then pounded it in deeper with her shoe heel. Then smiling, she leaned over and stroked her cigarette lighter. The flame licked at the candle wick and caught.
Sally watched it burn a second longer, then her legs became very cold and her body seemed suddenly awfully heavy, and she blinked. The room spun and everybody in it turned over and she moaned as she fell to the carpet in a dead faint.
As the floor came up to meet her, she heard one of the men say, "Look out! The cunt is fainting!"
Then she was falling through a deep dark tunnel with the wind rustling in her hair. The wind became hotter and lights flashed inside her head. Her skin 'was crawling and then she remembered she was afraid of snakes and she opened her eyes.
The room was dark.
She heard heavy breathing across the room. She made herself crawl in that direction. When she drew close, she saw it was the huddled form of a man.
"Brian?" she whispered.
There was no answer.
She wept. "Oh, Brian, my darling. What have they done to you?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She couldn't remember afterward how she found the necessary strength to lift him to his feet. Somehow she got him up and his clothing adjusted. She could smell the burnt flesh and it gagged her. She propped him against the door. "Just a moment more, darling. I have to get my own clothes on."
Barton came to life as she was staggering down the hall with him. She rang for the service elevator. It came up on the automatic button and she sighed with relief. She couldn't face any questioning elevator operator now.
From the ground level, she managed to walk him around the side entrance. She left him for a moment and found a cab. The driver stared as he watched her literally carry the tall limp man's weight on her slight frame.
He shook his head. "Lady, I guess next time you'll know better than to go out with no drunks."
She flared and was about to fire back at him, when she realized Barton was drenched with alcohol. Perhaps they had hoped he would burn to death in the room. She refrained from answering, got Barton into the cab, and directed the driver to the Taj. As he steered the taxi across the parking lot and into the street, she saw Barton shaking his head. He opened his eyes and she saw they had no focus. His breath reeked of Scotch.
Then she remembered Emma's threat. When she had fainted, Emma had, probably with the aid of her hirelings, forced heavy amounts of Scotch down Barton's throat to prevent him from following them when they left. It would have been impossible for him in that condition to have approached any peace officer with a complaint. They would have laughed him off as another drunk, perhaps thrown him in the tank.
At the hotel, she. paid the driver off. Barton was semi-conscious now and was able to walk with only alight assistance from her. He raised his arm drunkenly. "Side entrance over there."
Again, she found the service elevator and leaned Barton against the padded wall while she dug into his pockets for the room key. She found it and waved it triumphantly in front of his drawn, blood-caked face. "We'll be all right, don't you worry," she said. "We can both be glad that you're still alive and in one piece."
His head nodded and sagged. His eyes rolled out of control, and then by some powerful effort of will, they found her. His voice was husky, diffused with the booze, but she heard him. "You okay, Sally? You all right?"
She nodded vigorously, pressing his arm. "Yes, darling. And you'll be fine, too. When we get in our room, I'll be able to take care of you."
He nodded drunkenly. "Afraid they were going to fuck the hell out of you."
"Well, they didn't. She was more anxious to hurt you than me. What a terrible woman!"
He smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Good of Emma. Worth ten million on the hoof. Not worth a nickel, same time. Funny."
The elevator stopped at their floor and she craned her head outside. The corridor was clear and she pulled Barton out quickly. It was only a few steps to their door and she unlocked it and lugged him inside.
Brian staggered, lost his balance and fell. She stifled a scream and went to her knees beside him. "Are you all right?"
He nodded. His arms reached out for her and gratefully she moved closer toward him. Their lips met for the first time, and although the stench of the Scotch was overpowering, she felt the warmth and heat of his mouth. "Come on," she murmured. "Let me get you into the shower and get all that blood off you. Then I can look at your wounds."
"Okay. Okay:" He was smiling as goofily as a confirmed drunk.
She pulled his shoes off and tossed them aside. She hesitated for a moment as she was about to loosen his belt, then she grinned. There wasn't anything he could do about it, she thought, and pulled his pants down and off.
Barton let himself be led into the stall shower. Sally decided it would be safer if she joined him, as he still was terribly weak and showing the effects of severe shock. She stripped and went in after him.
Barton sagged as the water hit him and she caught him in her arms and steadied him. "Relax," she said. "I'll soap you down. Just hold still and let me and the water do the work."
He nodded obediently, still wearing the goofy smile she associated with drunks. She soaped him thoroughly along his back and stroked his heavy muscles with her hands. As her hands reached hip level, she realized she was breathing heavily. "Does this hurt?" she asked.
She held the washrag just slightly above the area where his skin had been scorched by the candle. Barton shook his head and she gently swabbed the area between his buttocks with the cloth. Then Barton surprised her by raising his arms and turning around to face her. Before she knew what she was doing, she was holding his penis in one hand and soaping it with the other. She felt it grow big and thick and hard in her hand. "Um-m," he murmured. "That's nice."
Sally smiled, remembering what he had gone through for her. The taste of the black-haired man's cock was still in her mouth. She knew how to purge that ugly taste now.
Stooping, Sally began to kiss and lick his cock and balls. "I had to do this for the other man tonight," she said softly. "The only way I could manage it was to make believe it was your cock I was doing it to."
Her lips shifted expertly from the head of his cock to one of his balls. She went from one to the other, noting the plumpness of his testicles and the rigid large shaft of his erection. Barton leaned closer to her and somehow his hands found her breasts.
Sally sighed. "When Frankie grabbed me there, I had to pretend it was you all the time, Brian. Please do all the things he did to me. Squeeze them, darling. Twist them. Run your fingers around my nipples. I love it."
Barton nodded and began to manipulate her breasts until she began to feel the first signs of the stirrings inside her loins. She mouthed contentedly on his organ, sucking him deep into her throat with tight lips, then relaxing to slide along his slippery shaft She sucked him thoroughly from his hilt all the way to his head. Her tongue flicked at his urethral meatus and then licked the big circle of his coronal ridge.
Barton began to pant now and his hands were rough on her breasts. She moved more quickly now, tugging at his cock in violent moves as if she were trying to tear it out by its roots. She felt his left ball rise and knew he was about to come. She gripped tighter with her lips and felt him shudder and then tasted the hot jet juices of his cock.
She sucked him clean and then let the water do the rest. Barton was breathing heavily as she turned off the shower and led him out. "Hold still," she said. "I'll try not to hurt you with the towel."
Again he submitted, allowing her to dab and pat the water from his body until he was dry. She turned him all around as if he were a mannikin. His burned flesh troubled her but although she knew once they returned to Um Angeles, he would be able to have a doctor take care of it, she wondered if she should get the hotel doctor.
Barton opened his eyes. His hand reached up under her chin. "I'm all right now, Sally. I can't pretend any more. I think I came to while you were ; doing that wonderful job on me."
She flushed. "It's the least I can do for you after all you've been through."
Barton shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Sally. It's my fault for taking you up there and putting you at the mercy of those animals. If there's any making up to do, I'm the one under the obligation."
She opened her mouth to protest and he closed it with his lips. She felt his naked body close to hers as his strong arms pulled her tight. She felt his hard core against her maidenhood, sensing it was becoming firm and hard again. Her hand dropped and she caressed it gently.
Barton smiled and carried her backward to the bed. He stretched her out and put his head down between her legs. Then he began to lick her sweet-tasting slit, lapping up her gathering juices. His mouth shifted all around, his lips finding her major and minor labia, the pink outer edges of her love nest Then he moved to her vaginal orifice and his tongue sent weird rising sensations through her quivering body.
Sally sighed, loving the detail with which Brian loved her. He nibbled. at every available inch of her delectable flesh, tasting her sweetness. She caressed his thick red hair, and began moving her hips gently from side to side, drenching his face with her moistening cleft. "Oh, darling, you're so good to me," she murmured. "Eat me some more and make me come. Then we'll try it another way."
Brian nodded, anxious to please this girl, eager to introduce her to her first orgasm with him. The drops of her love juice clung to his tongue as he stiffened it and probed deeply into her love box.
Sally squirmed, breathing faster. Her thighs pressed hot and tightly against his face, imprisoning him there between her rounded columns of superb young flesh. His hands grabbed at her breasts, twisting them and then' he shifted to her plump rounded buttocks, squeezing them and thrusting them up. His tongue moved snakelike with increasing speed and then she shuddered as an orgasm of incredible power swept over her like a giant tidal wave.
Salty wept joyfully, holding him tightly to her . body as she quivered and shook through the convulsive spasms of her orgasm. She held his mouth tight against her slit as it throbbed, letting him get his full taste of her nectars and drenching passion. Her loins trembled as his head burrowed again, lapping at her organ with insatiable desire.
"Oh, Brian, darling," she whispered. Her head spun and she experienced incredible new delights. His hands went back again to her beautiful globular breasts, touching so gently at the roseate pink areolas, then centering on the alert cherry-red nipples. He flicked at them with his long strong fingers, hurting them, and she felt his long hard cock pressing tightly against her.
Her soft rounded belly fluttered as he sucked deeply and ravenously at her slit again, and she came in another spasmodic orgasm that shook her to the core. She panted hotly and then moved her thighs apart. She reached between his legs and found his manhood and pulled it gently upward. "I'm ready for the real thing now, darling," she, sighed.
Brian rolled over and she straddled his hips. She took his cock in her hand, loving the hugeness and hardness of it and gently eased herself onto it. Then she let herself ride down the hilt slowly. It was like a dream come true. He filled her to. the core and she felt his pubic hair rough on her skin as she scraped her bottom on his hilt.
Sally moved up and down and began to moan. "Oh, gee, that, feels nice. Oh, Brian, that is wonderful. Easy, my darling, I, don't want to come again too soon. I've wanted you inside me for such a long time."
He began to breathe faster, thrusting himself up with his hips high. His hands fondled her breasts and then his mouth found them and chewed at them. Sally gasped. She had never experienced such passionate bliss.
Then he could feel his juices boiling close to eruption and he began to dominate the mood, thrusting harder and harder, groaning with each hedonistic move, delighting in her groans and panting breath. Her thighs were wet and slippery now and he sensed she was as close to orgasm as he was.
"There!" he panted, thrusting his cock to the hilt inside her and he exploded inside with gushing gobs of jetlike semen that flooded her core.
"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "Hold me tight, I'm coming!"
The wave cascaded over her, shattering her with its force and she collapsed against him. Brian felt her limp in his arms and collapsed at her side, their loins touching and pulsing wildly. They began kissing again and his hands played with her breasts and she found his manhood and gently stroked it. Brian let his hands roam all around her body exploring each crevice. His fingers touched at her anal orifice and she sighed with rapture. Gently, he turned her over and stroked her soft plump buttocks and then leaned to kiss them.
She let him explore her surfaces and then raised so he could move into her from the rear. Brian found her vagina and she let it stay there for a while, moving gently in and out. But she wanted him now in her anal orifice and she plucked his organ out and indicated where she wanted it.
"It might hurt you, darling," he said. "I'd love to do it to you there but we don't have to."
Sally shook her head. "No. We must. Remember what they did to you at that hotel. Nothing you can do to me could be anything but beautiful. Please, Brian, do it."
He shrugged his wide shoulders and slipped it into her backside gently. Sally had forgotten how big Brian's penis was, and now as it crept into her backside inch by inch, she felt it was choking her. But there was something oddly comforting about it despite the pain.
She encouraged him to play with her clit while he was over and behind her and then to hold her breasts tightly. This indeed was heavenly for her now and she began to move her hips, feeling his big cock go in and out, caressing her most tender surfaces, inflaming them with mad, insensate desire. "Oh, I like this," she murmured, swinging her hips to the side and then directly back.
Brian grunted. "Me, too, love. Just tell me if it's too much for you to stand. Otherwise I'm going to ram it right up to the hilt."
The big prong inside her backside was growing bigger and thicker each second and she sensed his rising passion. "Go ahead, lover," she panted. "Ram it all the way. I know I'll love every blessed inch of t."
Brian swayed back then and began to batter at her from the rear. Indeed, he hadn't exaggerated and his huge thick staff was like a battering ram assaulting her most private gate now. He went faster and faster, plunging in deeper each time, his huge rock-like balls slapping against her buttocks.
Sally couldn't contain herself any longer against her sweeping orgasm. She cried out and braced herself for his next fierce lunge and then, grasping her lovely breasts in each hand, he gave one more forceful lunge and spewed his load inside her darkest valley.
They collapsed again and lay side by side getting their breath back, waiting for their tumultuous hearts to slow. It was easy and wonderful making love this way with him, Sally thought. It seemed the most natural thing in the entire world.
A sudden thought of Gail invaded her mind and she bit her lip. Gail with her mechanical dildo was pathetic. It serviced women, she had to admit, but there was nothing ever that could take the place of a real man's engorged and pulsing cock. And apart from that, there was the added thrilling sensation of feeling him come inside, those jetlike juices.
And from Gail, her mind wandered to Brian's incredible endurance after the horrors of that evening. His performance almost defied belief ! She thought the awful and sadistic beating Brian had taken would have weakened him, as it would almost any man. But instead, it seemed to have triggered some secret hunger inside him, chiselling away the thin veneer that covered his lust. He seemed insatiable, hungry for her with his mouth, his hands, and his huge distended organ.
Caught in his driving spell, Sally began again the initial rites. She kissed his staff gently and then let her lips and tongue .explore its length. She nibbled at his huge balls and took them in her mouth, warming them with her breath. She rubbed his staff on her breasts, against her clit, and then played on it with her fingers. Finally, aroused again, she began to suck greedily at him, pulling his cock to its utmost length and then taking it deep in her throat.
When Brian came, it was with the same gushing force, and the same tremors rocked his sturdy frame.
She 'held him tightly until his shuddering sub-sided. "Was that a good one?" she asked shyly.
He blew out his cheeks, "Nearly took my head off with that one. My turn now." He flipped her over and now his feet were near her head while his head burrowed between her soft thighs again. She had heard of this position, but never experienced it. It seemed so right for them. This way they could each kiss and nibble at each other's private parts.
Her thoughts strayed inanely. He had still said nothing about their return. "Are we going back tomorrow?"
He grunted an inaudible reply, kissing her slit.
"Really, Brian. Are we staying for the weekend?"
He lifted his head. "Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. Perhaps we shouldn't waste it all now."
"No waste," he said. "More where this came from."
She gasped. His organ had hardened again. "Is that you?"
He laughed. "Who else?"
"Seriously," she began.
He toyed with her breasts. "Anything else bothering you?"
"Well, I am sort of hungry."
He sat up and struck his head. "What a brute! I forgot all about taking you to dinner."
"Well," she laughed, "under the circumstances, I wouldn't have expected you to remember. Considering what you'd been through, darling, it's quite all right."
"All right, nothing. Where's the phone? I'll call room service. We'll have us a couple of thick, juicy steaks and some salad and wine, and a pot of coffee sounds good, too."
Sally clapped her hands. 'While you're doing that, I'll take another shower. Wash some of this loving off."
She left with Brian picking up the phone and took her time bathing in the hotel shower. She dried her body with soft towels and when she stepped back into the room, the waiter was just bowing out the door. Her mouth watered at the sight and scent of the food on the table.
Unexpectedly, Brian barred her way. She looked up at him, surprised. He leaned down, mouth grimly set. "Sure you don't want to turn another trick before you eat?"
Sally laughed. "Sure I'm sure. Let me eat the food and then I'll have strength to eat you again." He bowed, offering her a chair.
They ate greedily, washed it down with the wine, then hot coffee.
Sally put her napkin down. She looked down at her plate sadly. "It's all gone. All that wonderful food."
Brian nodded. "That's the trouble with that stuff. It never does seem to last. Whereas -- "
He pulled his robe open to show her what he wanted her to see. Sally stared open-mouthed. "I don't believe it! How do you do it?"
Brian grinned. "Been hoarding. Come on, gal. Let's use it before it disappears."
"Fine chance." she said. "That is the original Leaning Tower of Pisa."
'Well, hurry up before it leans too far and falls down."
Seconds later, they were breathing fast, moving slowly, tasting each other's flesh. It was the same and yet different. Sally's body had new and indescribable delights for him and Brian made no bones about how he enjoyed touching and tasting each one. She was the perfect woman, he thought. Loyal, helpful, and she loved to fuck.
He found her clitoris as sensitive as a trigger and his hungry lips and tongue moved over her expertly. In moments, she shuddered, shaken again by a massive, powerful orgasm. She pressed his face close as if trying to encompass his entire being into her flaming vagina. When it was over, she sighed, stretching langorously. "I'm afraid you're turning me into a raving nymphomaniac, darling."
Brian nodded. "Fine. That entitles you to a raise."
Sally stared.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They slept late. When she opened her eyes, it was to the exquisite sensation of Brian fingering her vagina, going gently over her parts. She sighed and rolled toward him. "This is the way I like to wake up," she murmured.
"Me, too."
She felt his rocklike organ questing for her slit and reached for it. She rolled it gently in her hand, loving its smooth hard surface. She rubbed it against the insides of her thighs, then touched it to her slit. She felt her loins beginning to prepare for her first orgasm of the day.
He mounted her then, sending his big shaft deeper and deeper inside her with each new thrust. Her hips moved provocatively. His mouth found her breasts and he pushed the meaty soft surface with his cheeks and nose, and then took her nipples in his mouth. He sucked on each one until she quivered and trembled. The great wave crested inside her loins and seemed to drown her with her orgasm. She cried out and Brian closed her mouth with his as he spurted his load inside her.
They stayed in bed most of the morning, then showered and got dressed. Sally looked down at the unopened box she had brought along. "Oh, Brian! I forgot to wear the new short nightie you bought me!"
He grinned. "Don't fret. You can wear it tonight But I doubt that you'll need anything like that to excite me."
She shook her head, smiling. Everything suddenly was too perfect. The incidents of the night before however still hovered over her head like some dark, ugly cloud. "Are we staying over again tonight?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Depends."
When he didn't elaborate, she sensed with a quick divining intuition what was going through his mind. He hadn't forgotten last night nor forgiven Emma. There was the angry set to his jaw and a certain tenseness about his body and she knew why.
He wanted vengeance.
To hurt, to maim, to get even with his ex-wife for the humiliation and torture. For what Emma had done to him as well as Sally. He had a temper, she knew, and remembering how he bad stood firm last night against all threats, she sensed that now he would stop at nothing short of killing to even the score. He seemed to have forgotten that he was a lawyer. The due process of the law was behind him now.
"Here," Brian said. "Take this."
She stared at the crisp twenty-dollar bill in his hand. "What's that for?"
"This is Vegas, remember? Your very first time, you said. Right?"
"Downstairs in the lobby, you'll find a hundred slot machines. The one-armed bandits. that are legalized here to steal your money. But sometimes a person can win. You might even hit a jackpot. That's what tricks them all, you know. Everybody wants to hit the jackpot"
She took the twenty. "I don't need any more luck than what I've already had, Brian. But if you want me to -- "
He nodded. "It will occupy you for a few hours. I've some things to do."
She looked up alarmed. "You're not -- going back?"
Brian pressed his finger against her lips. "Don't fret. I promise that I'll return in one piece. And I expect to have intact the particular piece we used to such advantage since we came back here last night"
"But those people are dangerous, Brian. Surely you don't need to go back -- "
"Don't worry about it," he said. "It won't take long."
He kissed her and strode to the door. When she saw he was adamant, she nodded. "All right, dear. I'll try not to worry. If you'll try to be careful."
"I'll try."
He went out the door quickly and she was left alone with her fears. There were too many of them for Brian to handle by himself, she knew. He would have to be awfully lucky to get back at them and escape unscathed. She stared down at, the crisp bill in her hand. It will give me something to do, she thought. If I stay up here alone and simply wait, I'll go out of my mind.
She knew Barton would never forgive her if she tried to stop him from any course of action he felt compelled to carry through. That was the secret of his success, the ingredient that had made him the exceptional person he was.
A will of iron. And intelligence to match and to guide him along. An indomitable spirit. Unflinching courage.
Yes, she thought bitterly. Yet he had all those attributes the night before and had wound up lying in a heap, raped and buggered, battered and bloody, soaked with booze, unconscious and helpless, with the melted remains of a big fat candle that had been thrust up his ass and lit.
Come back safely, Brian, she prayed, her eyes closed.
She put the twenty into her purse, brushed her hair and attended to her makeup. Then she walked out of the room and took the elevator downstairs to try her luck.
* * *
Barton strode through the lobby. When he went out the revolving door, he patted his breast pocket lightly. The little Astra twenty-two automatic was there now, and he shook his head regretting that he had not taken it along the night before. The little Spanish gun had proved invaluable in the past. He had been stupid to have trusted Emma. Hell, he had wanted to trust her. But she had moved the way she was trained, so he couldn't blame her but rather himself for being gullible.
He signalled for a cab and got one just pulling up to. the hotel. He got in and gave the driver directions.
The cabbie whistled. "Hey, that's way out of town. That will cost you plenty, brother."
Brian nodded, glancing at his watch. "If you step on it, it'll be worth another ten"
The driver grinned. "Hold on to your seat, pal."
He gunned the engine and wheeled out of the lot. Then he rode north on the boulevard for several minutes, and then turned east. The residential sons thinned out and they drove through a long patch of desert. Ahead was a grove of trees, sheltered in the valley. Behind it a cluster of low rambling buildings.
"That's it, ain't it? The Barton ranch?"
"Right Go slow now and see if you can get behind those trees before any traffic comes up."
The cabbie shrugged "Nothin' to it, pal."
He brought the cab in easily past the overhanging post that proclaimed in chiselled letters: Emma Barton Ranchero.
"Hold it," Barton said. The cab stopped and he peered out. They were a scant 200 yards from the main low building. In front of it were two big Caddies. He could see a thin spire of smoke rising from the chimney. He grinned. His hunch was right. Emma was home to roost. He took a bill out of his pocket and tore it in half.
"Here's half a hundred. If you can wait for me to do a little business in there, you get the other half."
The cabbie gaped. "Mac, for a hundred, I'm willing to park here all day."
Barton smiled thinly. "It won't take more than fifteen minutes. If you hear some shots, and I don't come out, then take off. Go 'to the Taj Palace Hotel and ask for Sally Parker. Tell her those were my orders and she'll give you whatever is due. Okay?"
The driver shrugged. "Okay. Don't get killed. I'll make more that way."
"Give me a few minutes after the first shots. It may take longer than I thought to persuade some people they made a mistake roughing me up last night."
The cabbie nodded. "Yeah, I know that bunch. A lot of hard guys come and go at that ranch. Maybe you're crazy to go in there alone."
"I'll find out soon enough," Barton said. He slipped out the door. Staying close to the cover of the grove of trees, he ran toward the house, pausing at times to check the front entrance. He could see no guards.
He ran out of cover fifty yards from the house. Taking a deep breath, he bent low and then ran swiftly, the little .22 deadly, automatic now in his fist.
Brazenly, he lifted the front door knocker. The man who opened it stared at the gun placed squarely on his lips.
"Don't talk. Nod. Is Emma here?"
The man gulped, white-faced, and nodded.
"Same way again. Hocking?"
Again he nodded.
Barton sighed. This was a white-coated Mexican servant. He hated to do what was necessary but had no choice. "Turn around."
The man obeyed and Barton clipped him at the base of his neck with a karate chop. The man. crumpled and Brian caught him as he fell and eased him into the corner of the room before letting him drop softly. Then he stepped quickly inside the big low-ceilinged living room.
"Who was that at the door, Pedro?" Emma asked.
Barton stood a moment watching. They were all there, and within range. Sitting at the room bar, their backs turned to him. Only Frankie was missing, Probably bled to death and they dumped him somewhere in the desert, Barton thought bleakly.
"An old friend," Barton said quietly.
He had the gun on them when they turned. Emma's eyes widened in disbelief. "You?" she gasped.
"Surprised?" He found their guns, threw them aside. He made a curt movement with his gun. With the exception of Emma, the men raised their hands. Barton moved in lithely. "Put up your hands, too, Emma," he said.
"Fuck you," she said viciously.
He nodded pleasantly. He centered the gun on Hocking. "Hit her," Brian said.
Hocking's jaw gaped. "What?"
"Hit her, I said. Punch her in the mouth."
Hocking hesitated, licking his lips.
"Now," Barton said. "Or I shoot off your balls." He lowered the gun.
The husky blond man swung his arm. There was a crunching sound. Blood spurted from Emma's mouth and she reeled back.
"You rotten sonofabitch !" she screamed. "You knocked two teeth out!"
"Good," Barton said. "Now we can start. Take your cock out, Hocking. I want Emma to suck on it for a while."
The man paled, then looked at the gun in Brian's hand. He shrugged, and unzipped his fly. His long white cock came out in his hand.
Barton nodded pleasantly to Emma. "Begin."
She stared, eyes blazing, blood welling from her mouth. "Wait," she said. "I'll give you the pictures."
"I know you will," Barton said. He turned to the other three hoods. "Turn around," he said. When they turned, he kicked their feet back. "Hand me that bottle of Scotch there, won't you, please?" he asked.
One of them pushed the bottle toward him along the bar. Barton nodded briefly, picked it up, swung it back and brought it crashing down on the man's head. He toppled to the floor, with a sighing groan.
Barton addressed the man who had snapped the pictures. "Your camera still here, Ralphie?"
The hood nodded, eying the gun apprehensively, and then shifting frightened eyes to the quart bottle still in Barton's other hand.
"Where?"
"Behind you. In her desk:"
Barton smiled. "I'll turn later. How's your cock, Ralphie?"
The hood shrugged. "Okay, I guess."
"Fine. While Emma is sucking on Hocking's cock, I want you to be fucking her in the ass. Got that?"
Emma glared. "He'd better not."
Barton spoke to Ralph. "Punch her in the mouth."
Ralph shook his head. "She'll kill me later."
Barton sighed. Lifting the gun, he said softly, "I guess she will. So I'll have to kill you now to keep you safe."
The moon-faced hood shrugged. "Okay, I know what you can do with that." He took a step toward Emma. "Sorry, Mrs. B -- I gotta do what the man says."
She cringed back, hands protecting her face. "N-no."
"Hold her hands behind her, Hocking," Barton said. "She'll give you a better head job without any teeth anyway."
As Hocking grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her, Barton signalled Ralph. He stepped in and swung. There was a shattering crunch and blood spurted from her face. Emma toppled to the floor, her face a mask of red blood, coughing and moaning.
"That's the way," Barton said. "Now start sucking. It's okay if you want to spit out those loose front teeth."
As she started to put her mouth around Hocking's cock, Barton signalled the other men. "Let's make it a regular daisy chain. Let's see. Emma sucks Hocking. We'll need one of you to bugger Hocking's ass while he's having his cock eaten. Then the other one can be shoving it up Emma." He looked at the big bottle in his hand. "Of course, if she doesn't like the idea, I can always hammer the bottle in. I don't know if it works as good as the candle. But I can tell you, it's a lot tougher to take out. Sometimes, I understand, after the tissues swell up, it's damn impossible. So, if you don't want to walk around the rest of your life with a bottle up your ass, Emma, dear, I suggest you start." He waved the gun. "Okay, take your places."
Emma, sobbing but with fury in her eyes, crawled to her hands and knees, her mouth a bloody gaping maw. She reached for Hocking's cock.
Brian waved his Astra automatic. "You're next in line, Ralph. Pull her panties down and get into her ass."
Ralph lifted Emma's skirt. He patted Emma's firm buttocks. "I always wanted to do this anyway, counselor. You're doin' me a favor."
"That's the spirit," Brian said. "You two get started and we'll see what we can do for Andy Hocking." He waved to the other two sullen, frightened men. "Names. please."
"I'm Ernie," said the first.
"I'm Pete."
Brian thought briefly. "Hocking should be sucking off somebody while he's getting his own cuticle pushed back. How about you, Ernie? You feel up to it?"
Ernie shrugged. "What if I don't?"
"No problem," Brian said. "If you don't want Hocking to suck you off, then you'll have to suck off Pete."
The gangster shook his head. "I'll take Hocking and let him eat me."
"Fine," Barton said. He waved the little automatic. "Get going, please, while I try to fit Pete in somewhere."
Pete made a small whimpering noise. "Okay, if I got an idea?"
"We can use one," Barton said. "I hate to see you left out of it. Suppose we start you off buggering Ernie."
"I was thinkin' maybe somethin' else," the gangster said.
Barton raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Why can't Emma suck me off the same time she's doin' Hock?"
Brian nodded. "Not a bad suggestion, Pete. I've heard of it but never seen it done."
"Well, sure," Pete said. "Also now she's got her teeth knocked out, it ought to be a good smooth job."
"Fine," Brian said. "All right. Now we start."
He watched them take their places. Emma took Hocking''s cock in her mouth while kneeling. At the same time, Ralph fitted himself behind her and dipped his whang in her brown box. Ernie stood close to Hocking and showed him his cock. Hocking nodded glumly and put his lips around it. Then Pete tapped Hocking's shoulder. "Mind moving your cock to the side? I got to get mine in with Emma, also."
They started to move. Emma screamed when Ralph banged her rear. As she opened her mouth, Hocking and Pete lunged into her mouth with their big cocks at the ready.
Emma gagged.
Ernie moved slyly and made Hocking work for his piece of meat.
Barton watched them for a few seconds amused, then backed warily to the desk. He found the drawer and pulled it open. The party across the room was holding everybody's attention now, and he quickly shifted his eyes, found the camera and film in the drawer, and slipped them out. He surveyed the struggling, sweating group across the room. They were huffing and panting, moved now by the scent of each other's animal lust as much as by fear of Barton's gun. He smiled bleakly, walked silently to the door, and slipped quietly out after noting that the butler, Pedro, was still unconscious.
He ran lightly to the grove of trees and found the taxi waiting. The driver looked up surprised.
"Back already? I didn't hear no shots."
Brian smiled. "I found something they liked more."
"Like what?"
"A daisy chain. Sucking each other off. Odd men doing the buggering outside."
The cabbie started his engine. "Hey, that sounds like fun."
Brian nodded. He wondered what Emma would feel like in a few hours. A lot like screaming, he thought. But he knew her code. The same as the gangsters: Do unto others while you can before they do unto you. "Here's the rest of the hundred dollar bill," he said.
The cabbie took it swiftly. "Thanks. Apart from doin' what you said you did, you get what you wanted?"
Brian tapped the small camera in his pocket Then he opened the envelope and unwound the reel of 35mm film. The first spool was there, too. The original prints that Hocking had taken that day in the office when he used Sally. He nodded to the driver. "Yes. It's a little thing called revenge."
The driver spat out the window. "I know whatcha mean, Mac. You want back to the Taj Palace now?"
"Fast as you can do it."
"Hold your balls. Here we go."
He got out ,at the side entrance, remembering vaguely how Sally had struggled to help him the night before. His keen eyes quartered the ground, and finally he saw the drops of blood he had shed, dried now on the tar.
Brian's mind flashed back to the recent scene and again he saw Emma, her front teeth peached out, her mouth a raw, bleeding and frightful sight. He remembered the scorching pain he had suffered through when she had diabolically inserted the big candle between his buttocks and then lit it.
Blood for blood, he thought bleakly. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
He had the pictures now and he and Sally were safe.
Emma had -- what? He thought about it briefly and shook his head. Probably a sore ass and a mouth full of two of her best gunmen underlings. Would she forgive them for daring to take the liberties with her person which Barton had insisted upon? He doubted it. She would get rid of them all now. But at the same time, they had something on her she could never retrieve. Their memory of this day where she had taken two in her mouth and one in her rear compartment.
Brian found Sally' in the lobby. She was at the far end of a long line of slot machines. As he cable closer, he saw her face angry as she dropped in a' coin. She saw him as her hand gripped the lever. It was taking every ounce of her willpower not to throw her arms around his neck and weep for joy at' the sight of him; safe with her again, and unharmed.
"Damn machines," she said. "You were right. They are one-armed bandits, all right. They've taken everything I had that you gave me, and. this is my last quarter. Well, here goes," she said, feigning a gambler's concentration to mask her true feelings. She pulled the lever. "The wheels spun and the limes and cherries and lemons rolled their pattern, almost too fast for the eye to see. Then there was a clanking sound.
A bell went off and she jumped nervously. Coins clanged and jangled and a red light went off overhead, spelling out Jackpot!
Silver coins flooded the lower compartment and spilled out over her hands to the floor. She saw people staring, their eyes incredulous.
"I did it, I did it! I hit the jackpot, Brian!"
He nodded, watching coolly as she scampered for the loose coins. He waited until she had them all, held in the hem of her dress. "There must be at least fifty dollars here," she said. "We're lucky." Then seeing his relaxed eyes, she forced herself to casually ask, "Oh, how did you do with your errand?"
He smiled, showing her the rolls of films. "Not bad. Can we go upstairs now and celebrate?"
Sally grabbed his arm. "Please," she said, but her eyes smarted with tears of relief, and her heart swelled with the love she felt for this fantastic man.