Some call it fate-some call it destiny, or karma, or just plain dues. But fate can trick even the most observant students of human behavior. Sometimes life's plan contains a subtle blending of evil and good till what appears to be ill fate is good fortune in disguise.
Sometimes wanting more than you have-or wanting to better your condition in life-can sway your better judgment. Like a little evil nymph whispering in your ear, goading you, you think, with envy, lust and longing, that you would love to take the trip to the Orient that your friends are taking-or have that new car they just bought.
The colorful characters in WIFE, WANTON, THIEF are caught up in a blood-lust game for millions in gold, silver and gems. But fate, that unpredictable wild child, rolls the dice and plays tricks with fortune.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
They began streaming into the old building on Market Street shortly after seven every morning. On this chilly morning, with just thirty minutes to go on his shift, the night security guard squirmed impatiently behind his desk in the lobby.
He had good reason to squirm because he had the biggest hard-on of his life.
And if the sexy blonde wasn't kidding him last night when they'd had a few drinks together in a nearby bar, then Bill Hart was in for one of the hottest fucks of his life, as well.
Normally, Bill would stand in front of his desk when they streamed in in the morning rush, so he could look sharp and alert. What the hell, he wasn't a real cop, but he wore the snappy Wilson Security uniform and carried the .38 Smith and Wesson Special with all the tough assurance of a cop.
This morning Bill couldn't stand up because everyone would see his thick hard-on straining at his pants. Instead, he sat behind his desk while his cock tingled fiercely, and scanned the secretaries and office workers. Some wild-looking stuff worked in this building, fabulous asses and nice, rounded tits and sleek legs. No matter how crisp and efficient they looked, they were all fucking somebody, probably every one of them panting and whooping and moaning like mad animals the night before while some lucky bastard drove his hot dick into their tight pussies with savage intensity.
Shit, the blonde had better show, or Bill would have to go home and fuck his wife-if she wasn't bitchy.
At five to eight, his relief showed up. Bill looked anxiously toward the front glass doors of the building. Still no blonde. Just another drunken tease after all that groping and cock-squeezing in the bar last night? Fuck!
He chatted briefly with the relief guard, an old fart who'd been with the Security Service for twenty years, signed the register over to him, adjusted his cap, and strolled toward the doors. Outside, his pulse racing and his cock still straining awkwardly at his crotch, Bill glanced anxiously up and down crowded Market Street.
She was all bullshit, dammit! Just his lousy luck, too, because she had been young and madly sexy and hornier than the devil himself last night. Bill had been married for four years now, and he could count the ass he'd gotten on the side on the fingers of one hand.
Dismally, he began walking down the street to the garage where his beat-up Ford was parked. A hand touched him on the shoulder and he whirled dramatically, his hand leaping to his gun.
"Hi, stranger-remember me?"
A deep sigh of relief welled up in the guard and he feared he would shoot off in his pants. She showed up! And even after "sobering up on his dreary shift, he hadn't realized just how delicious the blonde really was. Gorgeous tits and ass! Beautiful sultry mouth!
"Yeah, sure, Sandy. I mean, how could I forget?" he grinned. "Let's get a quick beer first, huh?"
She licked her lips and his prick quivered madly. "Why bother, Bill? I've got a whole bottle of Scotch in my car. We can go straight to my motel room, unless you're too tired ... "
He laughed at the joke, and took her arm. "We'll go to my car first, and then I'll follow you to your motel room. Too tired! That'll be the deadly day, honey!"
His blood surging, the security guard guided her down the sidewalk, still astonished at his luck. After all, Bill wasn't the handsomest stud in the world. At thirty-six, he wasn't the youngest, either. He'd been married twice to women who looked like mongrels compared to this juicy young piece.
And not only was she free, she was providing the booze and the motel room!
On this cool San Francisco morning, Bill Hart hadn't the vaguest idea that the sultry young blonde was anything but free. She would end up costing him his job, but that was just the frosting on the bitter cake.
She would cost the insurance company who insured his building exactly three million, six-hundred thousand and ninety-four dollars. This was the amount of diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, gold coins and miscellaneous silveringots that would be ripped off in one of the slickest capers in the history of the glittering city.
Without a gun shown or a single act of violence.
The caper would be accomplished through precision timing, ingenious planning and the liberal use of hot, wanton sex.
Beginning with the security guard on this chilly morning. Smiling up at him with her ripe lips, Sandy was, at this moment, the most expensive piece of ass in the entire country.
And being fiercely passionate, one of the wildest, too....
The motel room was a cheap one on Mission Street that was used by traveling salesmen and overnight shack-ups.
But once inside the room with the blonde, Bill didn't care if they were in a mop closet. She mixed them both stiff drinks first, and then stripped for him. And the guard was so excited and awed, he forgot to take his clothes off, gulping at his drink, his eyes locked on her hotly curved flesh as she slowly exposed it.
The funny thing about Sandy Hawkins was that she was wildly excited, too, even though he was just another guy, just another fleshy rod in an endless chain of cocks she'd had since she was fourteen years old. And she was terrifically excited because her own boyfriend, the mastermind behind the three-and-a-half-million-dollar haul, had purposely deprived her last night-the sonofabitch!
"I know you're a great actress, honey," Frank had told her with his easy grin, squeezing one of her luscious tits to make her moan and shiver, "but I want you hot for this guy. I mean, there's millions of bucks at stake here, and I want you to give him the hottest piece of his life. I want you to fuck his ears off so he can't wait for the next piece. Got it?"
Sandy got it, all right. And because the tawny blonde felt she couldn't live without sex for a single night, at the age of twenty-two, she wasn't acting when she grabbed the bulge in Bill's pants and rubbed her palm lewdly over the throbbing meat. Still wearing her bra and panties, her ripe tits spilling over her low-cut bra, Sandy eagerly unzipped his fly, reached inside, and brought out his prick.
With a soft moan, she dropped to her knees before Bill, jerking his rod gently in her fist. She clutched the boiling knob in her lips and flicked her tongue across it to make him gasp with pleasure.
For a minute, Bill thought he was going to shoot his rocks off in her mouth on the spot, a possibility that made his face burn with embarrassment. Jesus, he'd finally gotten a gorgeous young piece panting after him, and in less than one minute he was going to blow his wad in her hot mouth!
But even at twenty-two, Sandy knew how to fix that, a common problem she'd always had with men. When the blonde got aroused, and her lush tits panted and her burning, tightly sucking lips began whipping on their pricks, even the longest of comers had a tendency to shoot off in seconds.
She pulled her lips off his rod just in time, when it quivered and pounded madly. "Get undressed," she said hoarsely.
She finished stripping, removing her bra to expose her tawny tits and dusky nipples. She rolled her panties down over her curved hips to reveal a silky tangle of golden cunt-hairs, wet with her eager juices.
When Bill was naked, she pushed him back onto the bed, her hot tits heaving, her pussy already dripping with hot cunt-sauce. She gripped his pulsing dick in her tight fist and her eyes blazed into his.
"How many times can you come in a row, stud?" she whispered.
He swallowed hard. "Three,-maybe four," he lied. Well, two for sure, anyway. "Hey, baby, I won't disappoint you!"
He reached for his drink on the bedside table and gulped at the strong stuff. He's a lush! thought Sandy with disgust. Or possibly just nervous as hell because he wasn't used to getting picked up in bars by horny girls. Either way, it didn't matter to her. There was a fortune at stake here, and the sexy blonde was certain she could get him up three times in a row. As for hooking him on her wild mouth and juicy cunt, well, he was already there from the look in his burning eyes!
First, the blow-job of his life.
Sandy hunched down between his muscled thighs. She gripped his prick almost savagely at the base between her thumb and forefinger. He wouldn't have to worry about shooting off too soon. It was virtually impossible as long as she kept up the fierce grip, which almost cut the circulation off to his dick, but kept it rock-hard.
Then she went to work on the feverishly excited guard with everything she had. And when Sandy used everything she had, it was like getting sucked off by a dozen hot sluts.
"Jesus!" exclaimed Bill, hugging her blonde head tightly to his crotch. " Jeeeezus! Wow, Sandy, mmmmmmf! Ah, baby, shit, that's incredible!
Unnnnnnnf, what a mouth!"
He drew up his knees but found it wasn't necessary to make fucking motions in her blazing mouth. She was doing all the work, sliding her lips up and down with wet fire, whirling her tongue around his dick-head like a whip of pleasure, sending the wildest thrills of his life through his thick cock and hairy balls.
And all the while, she made deep animal sounds in her throat, as if she really loved what she was doing, as if going down on a guy's pounding rod was all she lived for. Sandy wasn't acting, either. She would rather go down on a guy and feel a massive, quivering prick in her mouth than anything in the world when she was this hot-except that same pulsing rod rammed deep in her hot, tightly sucking pussy.
The tawny blonde was a nymphomaniac, and had been since she lost her cherry to four high-school boys in the locker room of the gym in her high school. What began as a brutal rape ended up a feverish orgy of lust, because after the initial burst of pain from that first ripping cock, she'd taken to lustful fucking like an eagle takes to flight.
The wide-lipped, ripely curved blonde was born to suck and fuck, created for one thrilling function-hot sex. And while Sandy wasn't beautiful in the classic sense, she reeked with such animal sex-appeal it was impossible for her to walk down the street without having men think of fucking, without being followed by a parade of surging hard-ons.
Her nose was too "cute," her mouth too wide, her tits just a little too plump, and her ass a trifle on the heavy side. The overall effect was one of juicy plump curves, although she wasn't at all overweight. And one look at her hot, shining eyes told any man with clear, unmistakable boldness that she was constantly horny, ready to swing her golden ass and thighs in a mad fever.
And now, as Sandy moaned and churned her burning mouth on Bill's brick-hard rod, scraping her teeth gently to send ripples of intense excitement through his cock and balls, she hadn't had relief in twenty-four hours.
In one swift motion, she slipped her lips off his erection and darted them down to his balls, grasping one in her mouth and sucking on it hungrily, running her wet tongue around its fuzzy surface to make Bill gasp and groan.
She was giving him her super-special, partly because she was so hot it was impossible for her to think of anything but sucking and fucking, and partly because this particular blow-job was worth more than three million dollars....
Beneath her fiery lips, the naked guard was dazed. His first wife, a fat-breasted nurse, also loved to go down on him, and he thought she was pretty damned wild-until now. This mad-lipped young mink was giving him an unforgettable ride with her crazed lips and tongue, sucking, nibbling, whipping, lashing, sending such hot thrills through his prick he would have come in the first twenty seconds except for her strange vise-like grip on his rod.
Christ, if her cunt was only half as eager and luscious as her blazing mouth!
Besides, even though his first wife gave a terrific blow-job, he was married to her for three years before he discovered she was giving half the guys in his neighborhood and most of the doctors at her job the same wanton treatment.
Bill grunted and started a series of lusty fucking motions in Sandy's juicy lips. He was losing his mind with excitement and yet he couldn't climax, because no matter how feverish her wild mouth was, that goddamn brutal grip on the base of his meat prevented him from shooting his wad.
"Oh, shit, baby, fantastic mouth!" he panted, reaching down to squeeze one of her hot tits. Would she let him fuck her in those golden mounds? His first wife loved that, too, and she'd been equipped with a pair of mountains for the lusty ride. Even though the blonde's tits weren't anywhere near as huge, she'd still be a terrific tit-fuck, Bill knew.
Her silky skin was so hot, her body so lushly curved, she reeked so wantonly with sex you could get your rocks off dipping your dick in her armpit!
Now honey was beginning to drip in small rivulets from Sandy's burning pussy, throbbing with eagerness, but still she sucked feverishly on the guard's long prick. A hundred memories flashed in her mind like a chaotic film of boys and men she'd gone down on furiously since she was a little girl.
Including her father....
For three years, she'd sucked her brawny, ruggedly handsome father off in secret, at least three times a week. If her mother had ever found out, wow! And while Sandy worked on Bill's fleshy rod, pausing to kiss and lap at his balls, jerking his meat slowly in her hot fist to keep him throbbing fiercely, the thrilling associations of that secret affair rippled through her tawny flesh, exciting her wildly.
It happened only a couple of months after she'd lost her cherry to the husky schoolboys in their locker room. She'd learned the joys of oral sex, of giving feverish blow-jobs in that torrid session, and with her sultry mouth and insatiable sex-desire at fifteen, she went down on a guy almost at the drop of a skirt.
There were two reasons Sandy loved giving blow-jobs to men. One was that she found most boys would climax much too quickly if she just plunged their rods into her luscious hot cunt, because they were overexcited. So she'd go down on them first, to take the harsh edge off their urgency. Not only did she satisfy the aching desire in her mouth and throat, she'd allow them to fuck her for a much longer time-and thus get her own rocks off wildly in the process.
The second reason was a girlish fantasy, a rumor she'd heard when she was only thirteen or fourteen, and which she still secretly believed: A man's thick salty jism was absorbed into her bloodstream and made her sexier with each load she gulped down greedily. Thus, the more cream she sucked up from horny boys and men, the sexier she got.
And, amazingly, it worked.
Not because there was any scientific evidence to prove it, but simply because the ripe, madly passionate young blonde believed it with every fiber of her lustful soul. So, over the years, as she lavished feverish blow-jobs on every one of her numerous dates, and gave quickies in the bushes and in the back seats of cars and other assorted places, including an assembly line of horny boys and men at swinging parties, Sandy's long blonde hair glistened with a sexy sheen, her eyes burned with a wildly wanton gleam, her skin glowed with a satiny, luminous luster, and every soft curve of her young body took on a sensuous ripeness that triggered fierce hard-ons in men like snappy salutes.
Whether this was because she was hot and horny almost all the time, being a nympho, and it was reflected in her sexy appearance, or because gulping down men's jism resulted in her tawny sexiness made absolutely no difference to the luscious blonde.
As far as Sandy was concerned, it worked.
"Gotta come soon!" gasped Bill, fucking her boiling mouth in sharp lunges now, squeezing her hotly sweating tits in his fingers. "Goin' nuts, Sandy! Lemme come, honey, unnnnng!"
Between his hairy thighs, Sandy heard him dimly and ignored him. She churned her lips in furious sucks on his rod and wriggled her tongue around his knob to increase his excitement. She was lost in a dreamy world of her own, remembering, delicious waves of guilt and obscene rapture pulsing in her blood, trembling her hot young flesh.
Her father was a rugged but tender man who had always lavished plenty of affection on his only daughter. Shortly after her mass-rape in school, an event that would have shattered most girls her age but which only sparked Sandy's blazing lust, Sandy was being cuddled by him one night when her mother was out with her friends.
She'd deliberately squirmed her plump ass on his crotch until she could feel his involuntary response, his enormous hard-on throbbing through his pants against her tingling ass. Then, to her father's shock and amazement, the teenage blonde had pantingly scrambled down between his thighs, unzipped his fly and uncoiled his pounding hot prick in her trembling fingers, thrilled at its massive power and size.
Before he could stop her, Sandy had seized his meat in her small mouth frantically and sucked on it with low whimpers of obscene bliss, gagging on its thickness and heat, all the more feverishly excited because it was her daddy's gigantic hard-on.
And once she began blowing her father, he found it impossible to stop her. The thrills came fast and furious, and groaning intensely, he clutched her small head in his hands and gave in to his hottest urges, fucking her juicy young mouth with gasps of explosive pleasure, dazed at the suddenness and violence of his tender daughter's lust.
Once Sandy got her boiling mouth on a lucky man's cock, he was hardly in position to debate the moral issues of getting a wildly delicious blow-job from a teenage girl, even-or especially-if it was his own darling daughter.
And in the case of Sandy's rugged father, a lusty man with a powerful sex-drive, he'd never gotten that kind of hotly exciting treatment from his wife. In fact, she hadn't gone down on him in years because she thought it was unspiritual. The more spiritual Sandy's mother got as the years went by, the more horny her father grew, knocking off a quiet occasional piece whenever and wherever he could.
He'd come in Sandy's wriggling mouth in great explosive torrents of jism, shaking with relief, dazzled by her juicy tightness, her frenzied tongue, her remarkable skill.
Then he very solemnly lectured his daughter on how shameful it was, how no one must ever find out. Sandy's quick response to that was to drop her panties and get back on his lap and fuck her father's immense cock until he got his rocks off again in her tight, madly sucking little cunt.
She gave her eager young pussy regularly to him after that, always going down on him first and giving him the dream-job his own wife never could or would. Their hot, frantic sessions managed to keep him around for three more years, but he disappeared one day, leaving her a note and explaining he couldn't take living with her mother anymore, and if he hung around she was bound to find out about Sandy and him.
He did manage to run off with a local hot-breasted waitress, though.
Sandy never heard from him again. She'd gone to various private-detective agencies, but they needed much more money than she had or could possibly earn for an exhaustive search.
If everything came off now, if her boyfriend's plan worked, then in just one week she'd have more than enough money to find her father. And then....
Lost in a reverie of memories for almost ten solid minutes, Sandy was quickly jerked back to the present by the naked guard tugging at her hair and groaning wildly.
"Gotta let me come!" he said hoarsely. "Shit, you're drivin' me nuts, Sandy!"
To emphasize his point, he battered her throat savagely with his burning dick-head. Hunched between his thighs, the lustfully sucking blonde finally released her fierce grip on his cock. His meat quivered and hardened in her whipping mouth for a few seconds. And then he came in wild torrents of hot cream, filling Sandy's mouth with liquid fire. Moaning furiously in her throat, she swallowed rapidly, jerking his rod in tight spasms to milk every molten drop.
And always, her feverish mouth savored and classified and sorted jism as she gulped it down, comparing to hundreds of other spurting floods in her eager throat. He wasn't bad-not thick or salty enough to suit her, which was why she preferred boys and young men. She'd grown up on gallons of the fiery stuff, most of it from strapping boys, and even at twenty-two, the lust-crazed blonde believed it accounted for her sex appeal.
She finally raised her mouth, licking her lips. Bill rested on the mattress, panting and dazed, feeling as if he'd been sucked as dry as a lemon-pip. What a fantastic blow-job! His dick would never be the same, spoiled for life!
Sandy paused to sip at her drink and smoke a cigarette, while he did the same. She could have pumped him for the crucial information they needed now, but she'd better be casual about that. He wasn't bright enough to figure out what was going to come down, but Frank had warned her anyway. You couldn't be too cautious when it came to millions....
Instead, she pretended to be thrilled by his dick, watching his ego swell up. She played with his cock while she drank, until it was poised and throbbing, ready for action again. Her cunt was seeping hotly and Sandy wondered how many comes he was good for now.
Just in case he ran out of steam too soon, she'd pick the best position where she could control her own pleasure, and get a series of wild orgasms before he shot off.
"You just lie there, hotrod," she panted, straddling his hips and facing him. She seized his cock in one hand and teased her squirming cunt-lips with his knob, hissing and crooning with excitement. Slowly, she slid her pussy down on his erection, her nipples tingling fiercely and her naked ass trembling with delight as the burning meat filled her aching slit.
God, she needed this one! Whenever Sandy missed her nightly sex, she became frantic for it, her pussy on fire with raw lust, her nerves screaming for a hot fuck.
"Mmmmmf, your hot prick!" she moaned, gorging herself with it and gently writhing from side to side. She sank her nails into his hard belly and very gently began to fuck him, her tawny tits panting and sweating, her pussy-flesh beginning to juice up richly. He wasn't exactly a giant in that department-her father had a cock like a big baseball bat, bless him!-but he was a good fit in her tight, luscious cunt, throbbing wildly in her sucking pussy.
Bill groaned as Sandy slid lasciviously up and down on his rod, his hands playing with her ripe tits. Christ, what a pussy! Sweet loving cunt, aah! Not since his high-school days could the security guard recall anything like this silken, juicy sensation, or the feel of hot, satiny young tits heaving in his fingers. She was an animal, a tawny, liquid, fierce-pussied young mink and she knew how to fuck like a cock-teasing maniac-not rushing it, not whipping his thrilled dick to death with impatience, but slowly, dreamily hugging his hard-on in her fiery crack, squirming and throbbing on his prick to send tingles of pure happiness through his cock and balls.
"Now I want you to stay with me awhile!" Sandy hissed at him, eyes blazing. She wriggled her ass on his crotch each time she slid down and flexed her powerful cunt-muscles on his meat in lewd spasms. "Play with my nipples," she urged him. When he pinched them and rolled them between his fingers, she moaned feverishly and fucked him just a fraction faster.
The blonde was getting hotter now. She took one of his hands and placed it on her tawny ass-cheek, indicating he was to play with her sensitive ass, to tickle her asshole. She loved it up there, too, almost as much as her frantic mouth and aching slit. Her father had taken that cherry, a relentless burning ram up her tender tunnel, a fiercely thrilling memory that made her slippery asshole tingle madly every time she thought about it.
"Love hot cock," Sandy moaned now, whipping her cunt faster. She began using tricks out of her dazzling repertoire, shuddering her pussy rapidly back and forth when she slid down on his rod, then swinging her ass slowly from side to side, then in wide circles to vary the exciting sensations for both of them.
Beneath her dripping, steaming pussy, Bill was hanging onto his control for everything he was worth. She was a tremendously hot and lewdly arousing fuck, sending ripples of intense pleasure through his body like waves in a spreading whirlpool. She was all silken hot cunt, from the tips of her dusky, lust-swollen nipples to the feel of her ripe, juicy ass in his hands-a golden, blissful piece of luscious tight pussy. And the animal in her was coming out fast now, in her gleaming eyes, and her low wanton moans, and her painful clawing on his hips from her sharp nails as she squirmed on his prick faster and harder.
"Want to do it all day and all night," Sandy hissed, arching her back and whipping her cunt in sharp spasms on his dick. "Born to fuck, can't live without it, unnnnnng! Gonna come, so stay with me, stud! Hang in!"
Now the roller-coaster ride of lust began in earnest.
Up to now, the dreamy sensations of her boiling pussy on his dick had been exciting enough. Sandy now started to fuck ferociously, squirming and thrashing her madly pumping slit with urgent passion on his rod-low screams of joy streaming from her lips, her head reared back and her tits bouncing wildly, her nails raking his flanks in vicious stabs, her ass slapping against his thighs with loud wet smacks of naked passion.
"Holy-mmmmmm! Wowwww! Shit!" gasped Bill, trying to hold her ripe ass in his hands. It was like trying to hold a wild, slippery animal. To keep from exploding his rocks, he seized his cock at the base in the same grip the blonde had used on him earlier. It helped, but only for a few moments. Because the fantastic feel of her juicy cunt churning on his dick was undeniably the hottest, most exciting sex-feel he'd ever had, a savagely sucking pussy that came on his hard-on in explosive hot gushes of honey, that made him grit his teeth with bliss.
Then he thought of something that did hold his load in check.
His wife.
Bill's second wife had been as cunning as a fox-but not nearly as sleek-when he'd met her. She used every coy trick in the book to get him to marry her, and she succeeded with ease, even though he should have learned his lesson from his first, wife.
She fucked him on his first date, and whooped and hollered and carried on when he rammed his dick into her as if she were at a revival meeting and had the holy grail shoved up her pussy. Then, just as suddenly, she cut him off, saying she felt guilty because they weren't married. That should have warned him. But when she wanted to, she could be a wild and wanton piece of ass. When she wanted to, which was only long enough to get a meal ticket, which was Bill.
Now she gave into him with a kind of dreary resignation, never saying no to him, but using her once-luscious cunt like a cold mackerel, lying there and groaning half the time as though his hard-on was punishing her. The fact that they had two kids didn't help matters, either.
Like a lot of men in similar positions, the guard was bored and trapped in a marriage he didn't want-but he didn't have the courage to split. Too lazy to do anything about it, he moved numbly from day to day, always looking for ass on the side and occasionally succeeding with a one-night stand, usually picked up in a bar.
And these weren't anything to rave about either, usually dogs or semi-dogs-or even worse, mongrels. Until the blonde, Sandy, who was now moaning and panting and thrashing her tight, wildly squirming pussy on his rod with obscene fury, coming all over his hairy crotch and swinging her gorgeous ass in a frenzy of ecstasy.
And then sucking up his wad of jism from his loins in feverish spasms of her hot cunt. Sandy fell forward on him when he began spurting his load, and she dug her sweating tits into his chest and bit him on the lips and clawed at his shoulders with wild moans.
Getting his rocks off with the frantic blonde, whether it was in her boiling mouth or her luscious slit, was like undergoing shock waves of raw passion. She didn't just suck it out of him, she drained it with electrifying power, with currents of fiercely sucking lust, as if there were a dynamo humming away in the very core of her sexy flesh.
She was an unforgettable fuck, and the hot memory would sustain him-for a-while, at least- when he fucked his dreary wife.
The next thought that occurred to the guard was like a shot of straight tequila: Why not get a steady thing going with her? Hell, when he stopped to think about it, she picked him up! With all the guys in the bar, she chose him, coming on to him strong, her lips pouting in disappointment when she found out he had to go to work last night, but then brightening when she agreed to meet him early this morning.
There was no doubt in Bill's mind that she was falling for him right now, crazy about him from the way she was still twitching her soft pussy on him and moaning and sighing and carrying on like she hadn't had a cock like his since she was born.
Another gulp of Scotch fortified that inspiring thought.
"You're not married, are you?" he said for the first time.
She smiled in her provocative way, her ripe lips making his rod tingle, and rubbed her silky tits into his chest.
"Why, Bill, are you proposing?"
He laughed. "Hell, you know I'm married, Sandy. No, I just wondered why a fantastically sexy chick like you isn't married, that's all."
"I like to swing on my own terms," Sandy said, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it thoughtfully.
"Boyfriend?" he asked.
Jesus! Sandy thought with disgust. Here she'd only screwed him once and he was already prying into her personal affairs! She knew what he was aiming for, though, so she took the bull by the horns.
"As many boyfriends as I want," she said. Then she stroked his limp dick gently in her fingers. "But if you want to meet again, Bill, on a kind of regular basis, you know, maybe I'd like that ... maybe."
Tease the dumb bastard a little, anyway.
Hope soaring in his blood, Bill gulped more Scotch and played with her ass. The kind of hot, loving ass a bored married man dreamed about. Maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right, if he really gave her a wild time every time, he could ditch his overfed wife and two squalling brats and end up with her!
Such was the power of two stiff drinks and a feverishly exciting piece of pussy on the security guard. It never occurred to him, in his desperately boring lifestyle, why a sexy young blonde like Sandy would choose him over an endless array of other horny men, a lot of them younger and sharper than Bill.
Now Sandy began pumping him instead of his cock.
"Your job must be exciting," she said slowly. "I mean, don't you ever get burglars in the building late at night?"
Bill was about to tell her his job was so dull he could scream at times, but why tell her that?
"Oh, yeah, sure," he grinned at her. "Not too often, but we have trouble there at night, believe me. Sure, it's an old building, not that big, but we've got six jewelers, wholesalers with offices there. And two coin dealers, too. Now, those guys keep a hell of a lot of merchandise on hand, in safes, you know? The average person doesn't realize just how much there is stashed in a crummy old building like that, and it's a damn good thing too, because if some real pros, some smart safecracking team ever decided to move in there some night-'course they'd never get past me, or I'd blow their fucking brains out!-but if they ever did, say, just for the sake of theory, why, Christ, Sandy, they could walk off with enough diamonds and gold coins and silveringots to make a millionaire drool!"
On and on, the guard talked, gulping Scotch, glowing with pride over his dull job, saving Sandy the laborious task of pumping him.
He was handing it all to her on a silver platter, everything but the certain information which would come out with a few more questions.
It was going to be a piece of cake, Sandy realized with soaring excitement. Just as Frank said it would. Before she got down to the building's alarm system, she would give him another wild piece of ass, a bonus for being so helpful.
The most beautiful part of it was the suspense, because no one, not even Frank or this dumb security guard who talked like a gossiping old fishwife, knew exactly how much lay in those safes-glittering, flawless diamonds, shimmering old coins from South Africa, glowing emeralds, rubies, brilliantly polished silver bars-Jesus!
No one had ever tried this before, not on this scale and certainly not without violence, when the city lay quietly sleeping and dreaming.
The thought of that incredible, glittering fortune, split only four ways, got the tawny blonde so fiercely excited she began coming before she actually got his stiff rod in her burning cunt. As Sandy hunched over on all fours on the mattress, slamming her luscious ass back savagely each time he plunged his cock deep from behind, mad moans coming from her throat, sweat pouring from her ripe dangling tits, wave after wave of explosive excitement rippling through her hot pussy, she prayed fervently that nothing would go wrong when the night came.
She'd never been near one, but she'd heard prisons were horrible places, where you got fat and dumpy before your time on starchy food, pasty-faced and brutish and ugly over the years. And vicious, wild-eyed lifers would rape you and torture you at night, destroy you for all men even before your looks were gone....
No! Frank would bring it off. If anyone in the world could do it, it was cool, deliberate Frank with his thoughtful eyes and big cock and tender hands.
But there were some things-and people-that were beyond even his cunning control.
Like the safe-cracker's wife, Lynne, whose hot eyes sent shivers up Sandy's spine. Treacherous, sleek bitch-she was even trying to get her man, Frank, in the sack!
Not that Sandy was jealous, although her instincts told her Lynne was deadly competition, one of those sultry women who had dynamite in their pussies. It was Joe's jealousy that disturbed Sandy, Lynne's husband and the best safe-cracker on the West Coast, a master craftsman who could get into the massive vaults of Fort Knox if he had just twenty-four hours without interruption.
Without Joe, there would be no million-dollar caper. And the strong possibility that his sexy, beautiful-bitch wife would blow the whole deal for all of them with her greed and obscene action hovered over the whole caper like a black, ominous cloud.
Frank would keep her in line, Sandy told herself as the guard's boiling cream spurted wildly in her spasming cunt, as she swung her silky ass to a frenzied rhythm, and moaned and panted with her shuddering climax.
Even if Frank had to fuck her to keep her temporarily in line, calculating that Joe wouldn't find out.
But Sandy knew deep-down it wasn't just Frank that Joe's wife wanted. She wanted the blonde, too, because Lynne was a feverish switch-hitter, a sex-crazed swinger who never got enough of anything-sex, money, or excitement.
She wanted Frank, and she wanted Sandy, and she wanted, in fact, the entire haul for herself. If there was a way to double-cross all of them, Sandy knew the slinky bitch would find it.
What it boiled down to was an eerie game of wits, with Lynne's diabolical mind and sultry mouth and wild pussy pitted against Frank's planning and cool toughness. Frank knew what she was like from the moment they'd met her, and he'd heard stories about her long before.
In fact, just about everyone knew what she was like-except her husband, Joe. He was undoubtedly the best safe-man in the business, but when it came to women, the master craftsman with steel and nitroglycerine didn't know which tit to grab first.
Sandy collapsed on the sweat-soaked mattress, her pussy throbbing and her ripe tits heaving furiously.
Somehow Frank would take care of it, take care of all the complexities and possible double-crosses and bizarre games Lynne loved to play, take care of executing his plan with precision timing and smoothness all at the same time.
But if he didn't, it was going to be a long, long time before any of them would forget it.
About twenty years, Sandy thought, trembling.
Frank had already told Sandy: All they had to do was keep Joe's wife occupied until it was over with. Give the bitch whatever she wanted, because without her consent, Joe wouldn't go ahead. And they needed Joe, because he was the best-and they had to have the very best, the fastest, the most experienced and the coolest safe-man possible.
Give her whatever she wanted, Frank said.
Meaning Sandy's soft, hot flesh, if it came down to that, too. And while the passionate blonde nympho had had far more than her share of torrid swinging with men, she'd never made it with another girl. Lynne was very sensuous and hot-eyed, slender but extremely sexy, and just looking at her it was easy to see why Joe was obsessed with her.
But the way the dark-eyed switch-hitter stared at Sandy sometimes made the blonde's skin crawl. There was something vicious about her, some strange undercurrent of danger.
Give her whatever she wanted, Frank said.
If necessary, Sandy would give her soft, silky body, but she had no idea how close she would come to losing her mind in the process....
CHAPTER TWO
"Only the very best," Frank said in a quiet, decisive voice.
The jeweler nodded quickly and smiled. "If you'll just step into my office, gentlemen," he gestured.
Frank and Joe followed him into the office behind his salesroom. They were both dressed in expensive suits, and gave the appearance of being prosperous businessmen. Joe watched closely as the jeweler knelt in front of an old grey safe in the corner and quickly turned the tumblers. He swung open the door and selected one black velvet tray. He set it on his desk and both men peered down.
"How much is that one?" Frank asked, pointing to a large glistening diamond.
"Seventy thousand," the jeweler said without hesitation. "It's immaculate in every respect, perfectly flawless. A superb investment in these inflationary times, sir."
Frank picked it up and held it to the light. A guy could practically get his rocks off looking at a rock like this, he thought excitedly. He handed it back to the jeweler, looking solemn.
"I'll think it over, Mr. Fletcher. Thanks for your time."
"No problem at all, gentlemen," the jeweler smiled. "Here's my card. Call me day or night."
Frank took it, thanked him, and they left. They waited for the elevator, Frank lighting a cigarette, Joe glancing back at the office.
"The safe is an ancient Pennington. I could crack the motherfucker with my thumbnail," Joe said contemptuously. "Shit, these guys are really smug, aren't they?"
"They've never been knocked over," Frank said. He looked sleek and casual in his grey sharkskin suit. Normally, he wore faded levis, and he was dying to rip his tightly knotted tie off. "Goddamn monkey suit is driving me nuts," he murmured.
On the fourth floor, going down, they stopped off to visit a coin dealer. He cheerfully showed them some mint gold coins, and Frank brushed the polished gold surface with his thumb.
"If I needed a thousand of these fast, could I get them?" he asked the dealer.
"Within ten minutes," the dealer said quickly, his eyes shining like the gold coins themselves at the prospect of such a massive profit.
"Give me your card and I'll be in touch," Frank told him.
Two minutes later they walked down crowded Market Street. Joe glanced back at the building. "That was an Oakes Vault, not as easy as the Pennington, but I could take it in about ten minutes. About the time it would take the dealer to haul everything out of his safe. Those poor assholes must really feel secure, Frank. They're gonna be awfully whacked out when they open up that Monday morning and find their cupboards bare."
"Yeah, my heart bleeds for them," Frank said. He was in his early thirties, well-muscled with-smooth features. Joe was in his forties and his voice had a rough, gravelly sound with just a hint of ex-con. He'd only done time once, double-crossed by a woman. He had, it was well known in the business, very poor judgment when it came to women.
Frank had excellent judgment. He trusted none of them, not even Sandy, his current wild sex affair. He never let pussy, not matter how juicy or exciting, interfere with business.
Frank glanced back at the building once more as they waited for the traffic light to change. It was one of those historic San Francisco pieces of architecture, built just after the quake in 1906. It had tiny gargoyles on the window ledges, and a massive, arched entrance. Eleven stories high, it was dwarfed by the new forty- and fifty-story buildings.
Cracking the most precious contents of the old building was like sticking your dick in a crusty old maid, Frank thought dryly. But this old broad had gold and fantastic treasure up her sweet pussy!
"Is Lynne checking up on the janitorial service today?" Frank asked Joe.
"She's supposed to," the older man said cautiously. When it came to his wife of twenty-six, he wouldn't vouch for anything except that she drove him crazy with her sexy tits and fiery cunt. He was a victim of the old cliche, barely able to live with her and unable to live without her. It was hell to be hooked on such hot young pussy when you were forty-eight, but what was a guy going to do?
As long as he didn't catch her screwing around on him. With girls, it was okay. In fact, every now and then Lynne would bring home a deliciously curved young thing for both of them, and he always got tremendously turned on watching her go down on a passionate young girl.
Unfortunately, she didn't stop there. His feverishly swinging wife liked to play strange games with them, too, tying them down and spanking them and then raping them with her goddamn nine-inch dildo. Not always raping them in their tight little pussies, either.
Joe had absolutely no control over her, and he didn't even argue with her about her exotic tastes anymore. As long as he didn't catch her screwing around with guys, he really didn't care who she swung with. He knew she had the hots for Frank's girl, Sandy, and he'd warned her hands off, but he secretly knew his warnings were useless. Besides, he didn't know how Sandy felt about making it with his wife, and he didn't even want to discuss the possibility with Frank.
Business was business, Frank had made it clear to Joe from the beginning. Everyone did their job and they'd all be on easy street. When you started fooling around with sex, you imperiled the whole caper.
And Frank didn't want to do time. He never had, either, and this wasn't his first big caper. He planned an armored car job four years before that made headlines around the country, and the only reason he was going for this was because he was just about out of money.
That, plus the exhilarating feeling, the wild, soaring excitement of outwitting the law and the insurance companies, the terrific feeling of blood-singing danger, but knowing you were going to carry it off and make headlines around the world once more....
Lynne's assignment was to find out exactly who did the cleaning in the building on Saturday night. There would only be a skeleton crew of two or three people, because most of the offices were closed on Saturday. Thus far, Frank had learned that a janitor service took care of the old building.
Now it was Lynne's task to find out exactly who would be scheduled to work that night. Saturday was chosen because it would give them all day Sunday to leave town and be far away when the storm of shit came down Monday morning. Not that they could be traced, not if everyone did exactly as they were told.
But you couldn't be too careful when you were fooling around with millions-or twenty years of cold, bleak time.
Sandy had already done her job to perfection, getting all the information they needed from the guard. All she had to do now was keep him happy with an occasional fuck until they executed his plan.
Joe would crack the safes and clean out the display cases.
Frank was going to be the guard on duty that night.
Each assigned task was planned down to the last detail.
Now it was thorough preparation and timing. And, Frank thought angrily, keeping Joe's lust-crazed wife from screwing the whole plan up with her savage greed. Joe mustn't find out what was really going on, that Frank was already making it with Lynne, just to keep her quiet. Because the wild bitch had the power to persuade her husband to pull out of the caper if she didn't get her way. Vicious, crazy broad!
Now Joe drove his new Chevy in silence, heading toward the large flat the four of them had rented under phony names in the Russian Hill district. Nice area, quiet and expensive, using up just about the last of Frank's ready cash.
Joe broke the silence in his rasping voice as the Chevy purred up a steep hill. "I want you to keep an eye on Lynne for me while I'm gone, Frank. I trust you, pal."
When he said this, the older man stared directly at Frank. Frank looked back at him coolly.
"I'll watch her, Joe."
"She drinks too fucking much," Joe said irritably. "If she's gonna party with any guys, it better not be in the flat. And I better not hear about it either, Frank."
"You won't hear anything from me," Frank replied, feeling a tight knot of tension in his gut. "Don't worry about her, Joe. She'll be okay. I'll see that Sandy spends a lot of time with her while you're gone, shopping and all that women's crap, you know?"
"Yeah," Joe said, relieved. He nodded. "That's a good idea, Frank. I like Sandy."
So did his sex-obsessed wife, but neither man acknowl-edged that. Already the complications were gnawing at Frank's nerves. It wasn't enough that he had to worry about the plan, every complex detail, calculating reactions all the way down the line from everyone involved. He had to play wet-nurse to Joe's wanton wife, to keep her from blowing it. And he had to keep her bizarre activities a secret from Joe, who was now going to Phoenix for three days to visit his ailing father. The old guy wasn't going to make it this time, and Joe knew it.
And while Joe would have preferred to bring Lynne with him, he couldn't for two reasons. First, his father and mother couldn't stand her, Joe's religious parents seeing her as an immoral Jezebel. They didn't even know Joe was a safe-man, but thought all these years their only son was a traveling trouble-shooter for an oil company. They were simple people and Joe didn't want to disillusion them. The five years he'd spent in prison he'd covered up by telling them he was in Arabia. He'd written friends and had his letters sent to an engineer in Saudi Arabia, who for a fat fee, forwarded them so they bore the proper postmarks.
They thought Joe was a firefighter who specialized in oil fires, and they were proud of him. Joe fought fires all right, but they were the ones in his own guts and his wife's crazed pussy....
The second reason, less important in Joe's eyes, that Lynne couldn't go with him was because of the information she had to get on the people who worked for the janitorial service. They were adhering to a strict time-schedule, and Frank had to have all the information well in advance so he could anticipate problems before they arose.
From the armored car job, Frank had learned that thorough preparation was ninety-percent of the battle. This would be only the second caper of his life, and he hoped, the last. Frank was not a professional criminal, and in fact, he didn't even regard himself as a criminal at all.
He was a gambler. He gambled his wits and cunning and icy nerve against the insurance companies, because that's who paid the bill. He would hurt no one individual, and he planned to send the unlucky guard ten thousand in cash after the caper.
If it came off as planned....
Although the guard was going to be the victim of his plan, Frank figured the poor bastard wouldn't really miss his job at all. Ten thousand ought to keep him going in style until he got another one.
He studied Joe now as the older man gunned the Chevy through the quiet streets of Russian Hill. He would have been glad to get another safe-man just to avoid all the complications Joe's wife brought on them, but Joe was cool and reliable, and they needed all the odds on their side.
In fact, the older man wouldn't even consider working with Frank at first, because he was a rank amateur. But when he found out that Frank was behind the famous armored car job years before, and listened to Frank's plan, he agreed it would be a pushover.
The armored car job was a beauty, brought off without a single act of violence, so slick it made history. It was a masterpiece of cunning, precision-timing and, like this caper, plenty of wanton sex in- stead of force.
But it wasn't the pushover Frank thought it would be, either. He'd had problems with his partners in that one, too, and then there was the dreaded unforeseen.
You never knew what was going to happen. Fate could ram it up your ass like a bolt of savage lightning when you least expected it.
So what seemed to be a pushover on the surface held its share of secret dangers. Joe's obscenely mad wife was only one of them.
The information on the alarm system and the auxiliary generator for the building was crucial. Frank would personally check that information out himself. If the jewelry and coin wholesalers were in a modern building, Frank wouldn't have gone near them with a Panzer division. Modern buildings were computerized-temperature, alarm system, alternate alarm systems, lighting, elevators, the whole works. They were too sophisticated and risky to go near.
But his ornate old building, like most other historical buildings in the city, had never been modernized-except for one clever innovation. It was taken care of very easily once you knew what it was. In fact, a ten-year-old kid could bypass the alternate emergency-alarm system, if he knew where to look. And it was so obvious, no one would know where to look. It was, in fact, very cunning.
But the guard knew, because it was part of his job.
And now they all knew, thanks to hot young Sandy.
Joe swung the Chevy over to the curb in front of the building where they had an upper flat. It wasn't anything lavish, but it had a spectacular view of the Bay-including Alcatraz, now silent and ghostly with bleak memories-and it was quiet. A working-class neighborhood, but expensive and secure.
Joe turned off the engine and looked again at Frank.
"You'll watch her, right, pal?"
Frank took a deep breath. "Trust me, Joe."
He wondered how many other men and women, in the long course of history, had uttered those same solemn words.
He couldn't explain it to Joe, but as long as his sex-crazed, switch-hitting, insatiable young wife had to go on an orgy of sucking and fucking, it might as well be where Frank could keep an eye on her.
In his and Sandy's bed....
CHAPTER THREE
When Sandy got back to the flat that evening, no one was home. She'd fallen into a deep sleep after her strenuous fucking session with the security guard that morning and he'd awakened her twice for more action. She was like a shot of Spanish Fly to the poor, sex-starved bastard.
He might as well enjoy it for the limited time he had her.
It was almost six, Sandy noted. Where in the hell was everyone? She'd heard Joe mention something about maybe having to fly to Phoenix today, but what about Frank and Lynne? In the living room, she cocked her ear for sounds of wild fucking in one of the bedrooms, but there was complete silence, broken only by a foghorn in the Bay.
Maybe they'd gone out for a few drinks-to celebrate Joe's absence.
Sandy shrugged, slipped out of her clothes, and put on a terrycloth robe, its pure whiteness making her tawny skin glow softly. She'd taken a long hot bath at the motel to wash the feel of the guard's urgent hands off her skin. He couldn't keep his hands off her tits and ass, as though they were the lost treasure of the Incas.
She didn't mind the sex at all-she needed it pretty badly, in fact, because the blonde nympho almost always needed it badly-but he had heavy fingers, constantly groping and squeezing and pinching, as if to make certain she wasn't a dream.
Sandy flopped on the sofa in front of the TV set and turned on the news, munching an apple. She wasn't jealous about Frank fucking Lynne, not in that sense of the word. Worried, yes. Because the sultry bitch had hot power in her blazing eyes and slender body, the power to warp a man's mind. Look what she did to Joe! Coolest safe-man in the business and he was no more than a limp doll she could twist in her fingers. She must be pure dynamite at sex, Sandy thought with an eerie mixture of female jealousy and deep excitement.
At six-thirty the door opened. She jerked her head to see Lynne come in. The dark-haired swinger smiled at her, and with a heavy sigh she settled beside Sandy on the sofa.
"Interesting day?" she asked the blonde.
Sandy nodded. "I got all the information we needed. How about you?"
"Some of it," said Lynne in her husky voice. Her eyes smoldered on Sandy's golden skin, where the robe parted on her crossed thighs. Sandy quickly closed the robe, but a faint trembling had started all over her body, in the tips of her hot breasts, in her humming pussy. Lynne had that effect on men and women alike. Goddam sexy mink!
"Where's Joe?" asked Lynne. "In bed?"
"Why, are you that hard on him?" retorted Sandy.
Lynne grinned and put a hand gently on the blonde's soft thigh. "Ease up, honey. You're getting your share, aren't you? Well, aren't you?"
"Hell, yes!" snapped Sandy, very nervous now as the dark-eyed woman moved a little closer.
"Because if you aren't I can sure as hell fix that," murmured Lynne. "And, oh, honey, would I love that!"
"Fuck off," Sandy said in a shaking voice. All she had to do was get up and walk away and go into her bedroom, slam and bolt the door. But she felt paralyzed by the swinger's presence. And faint, and flushed, and excited....
Never having made it with a girl before, Sandy now found herself profoundly curious about it. Christ, enough men had gone down on her golden, velvety thighs and Sandy loved to have her hot pussy kissed and licked and sucked on. She'd heard that women were much wilder than men when it came to pussy-eating. And Lynne's sultry mouth had an almost vicious, predatory ripeness to the lips, an obscene mouth.
And Sandy couldn't deny she was deeply curious about what it would be like to go down on another girl, too. And kiss her luscious tits and maybe, just maybe, lick and bite her sexy ass a little, too....
She was hot again, dammit!
It was the way the blonde's mind worked. Sex was what she thought about most of the time, automatically, her cunt relentlessly throbbing, seeping tiny gushes of honey with each erotic picture flashing in her mind. Damn, if only Frank were here!
"I'll bet he's down looking at that building again," Sandy said to break the heavy silence. The TV blared away, and Lynne had moved much closer now, her soft hip pressed to Sandy's, her fingers very gently caressing the blonde's thigh beneath her robe. A pass! Well, all she had to do was fling her hand away. But while her mind willed it, Sandy's flesh felt immovable, paralyzed, hypnotized by Lynne's lewd touch....
"He just walks around the block, looking at that goddamn building," Sandy continued in a soft, nervous voice, pretending to stare at the TV. "He did that for two hours yesterday. Says he's getting to know her. He calls it her. Says he's sniffing out trouble in advance ... don't do that, please!"
But she made no move to stop Lynne when the swinger reached over and kissed her lustfully on the throat, at the same time sliding her fingers up beneath the robe, probing the flesh of Sandy's tightly crossed thighs.
"God, you're a sexy, gorgeous thing!" whispered Lynne, parting the blonde's thighs forcefully now. Sandy breathed rapidly and parted her trembling legs, her eyelids fluttering, her heart hammering with fierce excitement. Lynne's fingers gently brushed over her moist cunt-lips and the teasing thrill brought a sharp moan from Sandy's lips.
"So hot and beautiful, honey," whispered Lynne, her pulse racing furiously. She had her, of course. But the vulgar words turned them on, ignited their pussies into a blaze. "Sexy tits, oh, darling, when I suck on them I promise I'll do those fantastic mounds justice! Mmm, want your pussy, angel, want to suck you off all night, ah, you're hot, so hot, Sandy! Oh, God, your cunt is so tight, oooooooh ... "
By now, Sandy was sobbing with wild desire, her tits panting feverishly, her cunt dripping eager juices. Lynne parted Sandy's robe and exposed her tawny tits. She clutched one in each hand with a soft cry of lust. She craned her neck down and sucked fiercely on one dusky nipple, sending intense shivers of delight through the blonde's flesh.
"Oh, Jesus, can't stand this," moaned Sandy, already making obscene fucking motions with her hips. She clutched Lynne's head to her lush tit, her face contorted with raw desire. God, she was so hot, she was burning alive!
The madly aroused blonde had never been turned on like this, not by any man! She knew it was a strange combination of circumstances, that Lynne was so lewd and sexy herself, and the idea of making it with another girl for the first time, of getting sucked off by those boiling lips now ravishing her tit so wantonly, was firing Sandy's excitement to a delirious pitch.
"Eat me," she sobbed, pushing Lynne's head down to her soft belly. "Oh, Christ, eat it! I'm going to explode I'm so fucking hot, Lynne! Suck it now, now, now!"
Quickly, the dark-haired swinger crouched on her knees on the carpet, between Sandy's spread legs. Still dressed, she felt wonderfully obscene, fantastically excited. Sandy still had her terrycloth robe on, but her tits, her torso and her wildly sucking pink cunt were all fully exposed, and the tawny flesh glowed with her savage passion, trembled from head to toe with frantic suspense.
Now Lynne reached beneath Sandy's naked hot ass to grip a cheek in each hand. She nudged her face closer to her juicy pussy, eyes gleaming, wetly glistening lips parted for the assault, her pink tongue flicking out, her nostrils filling with the blonde's delicious cunt-fragrance.
There was nothing, absolutely nothing in this world like these glorious moments of depravity for Joe's feverish wife. She couldn't count the number of sweet, juicy pussies she'd stared at in this position, and no matter how many times she went down on a girl, that first time for her always made her blood sing and her mind dance and her hunger boil up in her throat like a mindless demon.
She would rather eat hot young cunt like this than enter the gates of Paradise, because this was heaven for Lynne, but only the lustful beginning. First suck them off with every fiber of your depraved soul, then ravage their darling pussies with your monstrous dildo, and even that was barely the tip of the iceberg.
Then would come the thrilling torment, the spanking and teasing and the tantalizing ass-licking before the whip, and then the ultimate rapture, raping their gorgeous young asses with every inch of her grotesque vibrator, hearing their cries of anguish and profound excitement. Because they always came when she tormented them, came in hot gushes of wantonly luscious cunt-honey, all the hotter and juicier for their agony.
"Eat it!" screamed Sandy, twining her fingers in Lynne's long dark hair and pulling viciously. "Oh Christ, suck me off before I lose my mind! Hurry, unnnnnng!"
Still the wild swinger hesitated, etching the sight of the blonde's obscenely beautiful young cunt in her mind, rosy, sucking hotly, soaked with sweet sticky passion, framed by exquisitely curly golden pussy-hairs. And the smell! Flowers in splendid bloom, lilacs on a warm summer breeze, all mixed with the savagely exciting smell of loving young cunt, an indescribable fragrance. Oh, God, thought Lynne feverishly as she blew cooling gusts of air on Sandy's hot slit, if she could only bottle that essence, sell it on the market!
Because it was the dizzying fragrance of sweet hot pussy that aroused Lynne so tremendously, firing her blood like an overpowering drug. The memories! Oh, Jesus, her little sister's juicy cunt, the first Lynne had ever eaten when she was fourteen, crawling between those tender warm thighs one summer morning as dawn broke. And sniffing and cautiously licking, and then the insane frenzy of joy, of discovering luscious, thrilling young pussy in its prime, her own darling sister!
"Eat it!" implored Sandy, tears streaming down her cheeks, her slit on fire with agonizing suspense, a hair-trigger of raw lust. She dug her heels into Lynne's shoulders and crushed her trembling cunt to her face in a brutally swift motion.
And was rewarded with a piercing sweet thrill that raced to every quivering nerve in her ripe flesh. "Oh ... oh, my ... oh, my Godddddd!" hissed Sandy, locking her silky thighs fiercely to Lynne's face. Profound shudders of excitement ripped through her loins as Lynne began to suck her off with every diabolical, corrupting trick she knew-and some of the best the wild swinger had invented herself.
Lynne never just ate pussy. That was for the peasants, the crude, selfish slobs who didn't know how to turn a girl on and make her explode with joy.
She didn't eat it-she lavished frantic, urgent love on her lucky partners; she went through a ballet of depraved poetry with her lips and tongue that would have turned a frigid zombie into a raving maniac.
Always she began by eager lapping, lunging deep with her burning tongue to tickle and thrill the girl's boiling cunt-flesh. Then she switched all her attention to the clit-bud, sucking on it tenderly at first, then with quickening lust, then whipping the very tip of it with her tongue to make them scream and wriggle with unbearable excitement. As Sandy was doing now, her first orgasm exploding in her seething loins with spine-tingling excitement. For a solid three minutes, Lynne kept up the breathtaking attack, sucking, kissing, churning her hot tongue on Sandy's quivering clit, and she was rewarded with a flood of delicious pussy-nectar gushing in her mouth.
And the blonde came very close to passing out from sheer raw ecstasy. Because no one had ever done that for her, no man had ever realized you could get a girl off to a frenzied degree just by clit-sucking for a few minutes.
It was the kind of trick Lynne specialized in to hook tender young girls on her wanton mouth. They always knew who to go to for the most thrilling sucking of their innocent young lives.
And for the most nerve-shattering torment, too.
Now, Sandy cried incoherently and crushed Lynne's face to her spasming cunt with obscene fury when her orgasm reached its violent peak. The blonde's naked flesh was covered with sweat, trembling like a leaf in a storm, her tits heaving wildly and her mind dazed with uncontrollable pleasure.
Even in her frenzy, Sandy realized that a whole new world of depraved excitement had just opened up for her. She'd never been sucked off like this, and adding to her maddening joy was the eerie feeling of guilt, the knowledge that she was being ravenously blown by another girl, a wildly sexy girl who was now slithering her hot tongue up Sandy's asshole to thrill her in a way she'd never felt before.
And Lynne was deliriously excited, too, because she'd never tasted pussy so delicious or succulent or lustfully sweet-except for her little sister's cherry! Blondes had always turned the dark-haired switch-hitter on, because they tasted different than other girls, hotter and silkier and more juicy. She'd argued the merits of blondes with other wanton swingers, and they each confessed their own hang-up.
Lynne's hang-up was right here, her velvety thighs crushing her head, her tawny skin slippery with a fine sheen of perspiration, her soft heels digging into Lynne's shoulders like spurs, her naked ripe ass grinding blissfully to Lynne's eager mouth. Even her asshole tasted succulent.
For Lynne, at least, blondes were more fun, even though she realized her fascination was probably due to their golden contrast to her own creamy skin and jet-black hair. Obviously, the poor girl had never had a decent blow-job from the hysterical way she was carrying on. And it was a certainty she'd never had her puckered little asshole tongued, because her hot-breasted body was going into slow, profound shudders of happiness as Lynne wriggled her tongue deep.
Now the ravenous swinger returned to her original fountain of joy, hotly sucking at Sandy's cunt-flesh once more, feeling wonderfully obscene now that her entire face was smeared with sticky cunt-juice.
"No more!" Sandy screamed, pushing Lynne forcibly away. She shook her head deliriously, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were glazed with shock and her ripe curves twitched furiously. "Can't take anymore! Unnnng, gotta rest!"
"Okay, okay," Lynne panted, coming up for air. She had to strip, anyway, and she did this quickly, with trembling fingers. Sandy's blue eyes burned on her slender nakedness, drinking in her high rounded tits with their swollen wine-colored nipples, exotic against her creamy mounds. The blonde's eyes swept down over Lynne's narrow waist and her softly flared hips, lingering on her dark nest of pussy-hairs, shining wetly with Lynne's honey.
With a whimper, Sandy's tongue darted out and licked her lips. Lynne knew what was happening-she'd seen it often enough before in girls she'd gone down on, especially when it was their first time with another sexy girl. Sandy was getting hot over the prospect of eating Lynne's pussy, compelled by overpowering curiosity and fierce excitement, driven by the powerful attraction of contrast. She was fascinated by Lynne's luminous white skin and sensuous, slender flesh, so different from her own lush ripeness.
Lynne's tits were much smaller, almost little-girlish, and her ass was compact but extremely sexy, each cheek faintly dimpled. Lynne had the kind of body that would look wildly exciting in a lacy black bra and panties and misty nylons, the kind that made men think of tight, feverishly sucking cunt. And with her full lips and bright-red lipstick, and blazing dark eyes, the swinger looked like an angel of lust, her tits heaving with smoldering urgency, her soft skin glowing with milky whiteness.
"Take off that robe," Lynne ordered her in a hoarse whisper. Quickly, the blonde obeyed. The spasms in her loins were still going on, softly now, but she was still coming in gentle waves that made her pant and tremble.
"Wait here," Lynne commanded. She padded into her bedroom, her small ass weaving in a lewd rhythm. From a bottom dresser drawer, she took her nine-inch dildo, which had a harness attached so she could strap it on securely while she lovingly-or savagely-fucked her eager girls. Her fingers hesitated on the short black whip. Too early, she cautioned herself. Shit, Joe would be gone for three days, and there was plenty of time for the wild stuff later on. No sense in scaring the luscious blonde out of her wits just yet.
Fuck her until she screamed with unbearable happiness first, until she fainted with sheer ecstasy. Then Sandy would come crawling back for it, for another thrilling blow-job and another shattering rape. Then Lynne would give in to every fierce urge in her strange blood....
She went back into the living room. She could have brought Sandy into the bedroom, but Lynne liked to do it on the floor, liked plenty of room to roll around and change positions.
When the blonde saw the immense cock, she winced, but she didn't say anything. She was still so hot, Lynne could have come back with a five-pound salami and Sandy would have been eager.
Lynne tossed the dildo aside for now. Her own cunt was pulsing and seeping with wild need. And Sandy had gorgeous lips, full and ripe and pouty, delicious to kiss and tongue-and sit on.
But before the panting switch-hitter allowed herself that luxury, she had still another ritual to go through. It was important to follow her tested system, because long experience had proved how thoroughly it worked.
She sat on the sofa beside the naked, moaning blonde.
"Get on my lap," she ordered. "No, I mean bend over, because I'm going to spank your beautiful ass! Hurry up!"
Trembling fiercely, Sandy hunched over Lynn's lap, her ripe tits heaving furiously. The idea was so childish and dumb! Spanking her like a little brat. But Sandy was so madly aroused, she would have done just about anything her dark-haired seducer commanded. Especially after that incredible blow-job! Why couldn't Frank eat her like that? Most men just didn't realize what a comprehensive pussy-eating session could do for a girl, how terrifically excited she could get and how wildly she could get her rocks off that way.
Huddling over Lynne's bare lap, Sandy held her breath, waiting in suspense, undulating her curved hips lustfully. Her golden ass-flesh trembled eagerly, every nerve in its quivering, juicy roundness on fire with curiosity.
For a minute, Lynne simply massaged the hot flesh in her fingers, sucking in her breath with depraved pleasure. Oh, God, what a magnificent ass! She told herself she didn't have a penis-envy complex-who needed a cock with a diabolical tongue like hers? A tongue could whip and wriggle and thrash and churn to drive a girl insane, but a prick could do only one thing, pump and stroke! And while Sandy moaned in tormenting suspense as Lynne stroked and pinched her hot ass, Joe's feverish wife told herself again she didn't have a penis-envy complex, convinced it was a term some asshole psychiatrist had made up to compensate for his own shrunken dick-maybe that's why they were called shrinks! They went into it because they had such small cocks, they had to pretend to be superior-but if Lynne did have a prick, she wouldn't hesitate to ram it brutally into the blonde's luscious ass-cheeks.
She knew, too, that Sandy was practically all hers, in spite of her mistrust and defiance at first, because no girl could get her rocks off the way she did from Lynne's frenzied lips and tongue and not go crazy. The real secret of Lynne's success with girls, aside from her driving hunger, was her appreciation of the delicate structure of a girl's cunt. The nerves in their silken pussies were so sensitive that a cock could only create friction by rubbing and pounding, while a set of lips and a long tongue could reach almost every one of those juicy nerves, thrill them like nothing else in the world.
Lynne knew she was cunt-crazy, but she didn't give a damn. She was prick-mad, too, but not to the extent of her fascination with sweet, steaming pussies. It was the taste and fragrance of her little sister's luscious cherry that had sparked her overwhelming obsession with cunt, and what she was going to do now with Sandy would not only prime her for later, more vicious sex-punishment, but the obscene ritual brought back thrilling memories of her tender young sister's ass and loving slit.
She began spanking Sandy, gently at first, digging her fingers into the tawny hot flesh, each spank a sharp caress. Then the slaps became harder and more brutal. The blonde began sobbing, but not entirely with pain. She was so aroused, the burning tingles in her ass-flesh were beginning to spark a strange orgasm in her cunt.
And Lynne watched the golden cheeks turn slowly red, then crimson, quivering hotly from her bare hand. In this position, the swinger could see both Sandy's delicate asshole and dripping pink pussy, and the obscene sight triggered sharp memories of her sister's lovely ass and adorable cunt. Tears of sentiment came to Lynne's eyes, along with a fierce passion. She craned her neck down and stopped spanking, licked at the burning cheeks lustfully, then sank her teeth into the tawny flesh and bit it sharply to make Sandy scream.
Oh, her loving little sister's ass and pussy! Nothing would ever excite her the way they did, and the night-long games they used to play, Lynne fourteen, her sister thirteen, while their parents slept peacefully in the next room! Sixty-nine and tit-sucking and frantic finger-fucking and ass-kissing and biting and cunt-grinding and giving each other lewd tongue-baths over their young bodies!
Lynne had lost track of her sister years ago, when she'd married an insurance salesman and moved to another city. Her sister stopped answering her torrid love-letters after that, writing only once to explain what they did was sick, all wrong, and she never wanted to hear from her again.
Sanctimonious bitch!
Whatever her husband was like, he'd never be able to pay tribute to her sister's lovely tits and adorable ass and sweet hot cunt the way Lynne did. Never eat her for a solid hour and lick her little asshole with tender passion and sit on her face for a ride of unforgettable bliss. Never suck her off before breakfast so her luscious pussy would hum all day long like a purring dynamo.
Now a bitter fury rose in Lynne's blood at the way her sister had treated her when she'd gotten married, and this dangerous feeling was quickly transferred to the moaning, squirming blonde beneath her. Lynne bit her ass savagely and wished she'd brought the whip, and Sandy yelped and wriggled in an attempt to wrench free, but Lynne held her fast.
And only for a split-second did the furious switch-hitter realize the source of her cruel games with other girls, the smoldering desire for vengeance she'd lashed out on other helpless young victims.
Once again, her mood changed swiftly at the feel of Sandy's satiny ass-flesh in her mouth, turning to feverish lust. She slipped a finger into the blonde's tight pussy and began finger-fucking her to a slow, dreamy rhythm.
Instantly, Sandy stopped struggling and began fucking Lynne's pumping finger with loud moans of excitement. It felt strange, fantastically arousing and strange to be masturbated by another sexy girl. Lynne licked her ass, meanwhile, slipping a second squirming finger inside the blonde's boiling cunt, and then Sandy was coming in profound shudders of lewd ecstasy. Good God, Lynne turned her on! Yet she couldn't know that being passionately sucked off and then spanked and obscenely finger-fucked, all as madly exciting as it was, could only be the beginning of a dangerous game for the sultry switch-hitter, a game that could cost the hot young blonde nympho her sanity....
Now, Lynne made fucking motions with her own hips as she stroked her fingers faster in and out of Sandy's delicious little cunt. Her sister used to love this, the beautiful, greedy little bitch! She would come in torrents of wild cunt-honey over Lynne's pumping fingers, and only after she'd gotten her own feverish rocks off would she suck off Lynne in return.
Sandy's pussy-juices streaming over her hand, her cries echoing throughout the large flat, her excitement shattering over the new sensations of being lustfully massaged by Joe's sexy young wife, each climax hotter and wilder than the last, the frantic blonde was now ready to give in to her own lewd curiosity, primed to lavish kisses and sucks on Lynne's hot, naked tits and thighs and silky-fringed cunt.
"Eat you!" sobbed Sandy, wriggling her tawny ass with rapture. "Wanna eat you, Lynne! Let me suck you off, darling!"
And Lynne knew that when they begged to do that, they were really turned on!
She slipped her soaked fingers out of Sandy's tight pussy and slapped her ass sharply. "Sit on my lap and face me," she panted. "Hurry, baby, I'm on fire!"
Sandy scrambled around, but the position was awkward on the sofa, so they got down on the carpet. The television still blared mindlessly away as Sandy feverishly climbed on top of Lynne and kissed her mouth and dug her heaving ripe tits into Lynne's smaller ones. They ground their boiling cunts together for a minute, their soft bellies rubbing lasciviously.
Now, the eager blonde knew exactly what to do without being urged. She slid down and clutched one of Lynne's silky tits in her hands and sucked on the nipple ravenously. It was sweet and hot and delicious beneath her tingling lips and tongue, unlike anything she'd ever tasted.
"Good, baby, good!" hissed Lynne, stroking her hair. "Now the other one, mmmmmmm, yesss, now kiss my belly, honey, ah, yes, mmmmm, hot tongue, loving lips! Get down there now, Sandy, but go slow and easy at first, tease my pussy for a minute, angel, oh! Oooooo! Oh, Christ! Suck it, suck my cunt, Sandy, unnnnnnnng! Jeeeeeezus, yesss!"
The frenzied blonde took to pussy-eating with all the fervor and blazing passion she'd always devoted to cock-sucking, and with even greater excitement because this was her first experience sucking a cunt.
Oh, it's wild! thought Sandy, hoisting Lynne's ass in her hands and digging her mouth into the juicy flesh. Oh, shit, it's delicious! she realized, stunned with her new lusty hunger. She liked eating pussy! It was downright thrilling!
Being an orally obsessed nympho to begin with, Sandy transferred her loving passion from pricks to pussies in one swift and smooth transition, delighted by the difference, the sweetness and fragrance and luscious sex-heat of juicy young cunt. Deep in her whirling mind, the wanton blonde knew she was a born cock-sucker, though, and would always love going down on men to the day she died.
But that didn't mean she couldn't love going down on girls, too!
And there was an eerie security and comfort in having a pair of velvety hot thighs locked to her face, because everything was warm and dark and lovingly wet down here, sweet and even sacredly protective. Nothing could harm you when you had your mouth burrowing against a delicious slit like this, dipping your nose into it out of sheer obscene joy, smearing your cheeks and chin with pussy-nectar like a mask of wild depravity, and always licking, lapping, sucking, kissing, churning your hot tongue with every blazing nerve of your lusty soul!
Already Lynne was coming in urgent spasms of her cunt, not passively lying there but fucking Sandy's burning mouth with deep shudders of bliss, raising her ass high off the carpet to carry the blonde's head with her.
"Ah, oh, Jesus, baby, oooooo!" Lynne panted, her small tits glossy with sweat. "Oh, darling mouth! Ooooo, Sandy, all night, honey, do it to me harder! Hotter! Faster! Wooo!"
It turned into a fierce rape, then, with Lynne becoming so frantic with excitement she rolled over to hunch over the helpless blonde's face, whirling Sandy on her back. On all fours with her tits dangling and her head shaking from side to side to vent her wanton lust, she rubbed her dripping slit in a lewd fury against Sandy's mouth. She quivered her ass and ground her steaming crotch mercilessly to Sandy's face, almost suffocating her.
And the passion-crazed blonde loved every minute of it.
It was like being assaulted by a mass of furry boiling cunt, Lynne's moist thighs grinding lustfully on her lips and tongue. She clutched Lynne's naked hot ass in her greedy fingers and squeezed as she sucked, crying with excitement, finally finding Lynne's tiny wet asshole with her searching tongue. Now, Sandy wriggled deep for an obscene new thrill, her nose crushed in Lynne's writhing cunt. The moaning swinger sat up to ride her silky ass on Sandy's mouth, undulating her hips in wide circles, hissing and rubbing her tits feverishly and concentrating intently on the probing thrill in her hot ass-cheeks.
She ignored the muffled screams coming from the blonde beneath her as she pumped her asshole on her long tongue. Either Sandy was desperate for air or she was coming herself out of pure excitement from licking Lynne's burning asshole. To the frenzied switch-hitter it made no difference, as long as the stinging jolts in her thrilled ass continued.
But it was raw lust that drove the younger girl to issue low screams of shattering excitement, while she writhed her tongue up Lynne's naked butt. Her hands stroked Lynne's hot tits feverishly at the same time, and the eerie dual sensations of a girl's panting tits in her hands and her sensuous ass riding her face provoked an intense new fire in the sexy blonde.
Then Lynne was climbing off her face, and almost as quickly, hunching her dripping thighs back over it-but she'd turned around so she could fall forward and dig her mouth into Sandy's pulsing cunt.
Now, the two moaning women were locked in frenzied sixty-nine, each trying lustfully to outdo the other with burning thrills, a contest of clit-sucking and pussy-lapping and ass-licking, a mass of sweating tits and groping hands and furiously wriggling tongues, as they began coming in each other's eager mouth.
Even Lynne was astonished at the wild thrills tearing through her loins. If this was Sandy's first attempt at pussy-eating, she was practically on the same cunning and inspired level as the dark-haired swinger herself.
Twice they rolled over on the carpet to change positions, the girl on top having the advantage because she was the aggressor and could slam her mouth savagely to her partner's cunt and whip her tongue in the fiery flesh with raw abandon. While the girl on bottom could only move her frenzied lips and tongue so much, the other girl fucking her mouth furiously, in control of her partner.
And Sandy secretly loved being on the bottom! She liked the helpless feeling of being raped and smothered by a hot pussy, liked the feel of Lynne's soft belly grinding into her tits. Again and again, the blonde and her dark-haired seducer shuddered with wild orgasms, gushing honey in each other's mouths, tingling each other's tender assholes with wanton tongues, hands squeezing and loving each other's ripely curved flesh.
And it was Lynne who gave up first, climbing off Sandy with a desperate sigh. Christ, the juicy little mink was wearing her out. Talk about a mad mouth!
CHAPTER FOUR
"Are you sure this is the first time you ever made it with another girl?" Lynne asked her as they took a break to sip some wine and smoke cigarettes.
Sandy nodded, her eyes smoldering on Lynne's soft nakedness. There must have been a pilot flame down there to begin with, because it was a roaring blaze of hunger now! What was actually happening was that the nympho's naturally insatiable passion was enjoying a whole new world of possibilities as she watched Lynne's firm tits and sleek thighs.
Girls were everywhere-sexy girls, slender, plump, pretty, plain, and stunning. Girls with luscious tits and hotly ripe asses, girls with petitely curved, exquisite tits like Lynne's, small but silken asses, incredibly hot and exciting thighs when they were locked around your face!
No longer was Sandy's relentless hunger confined to studs. Now she wouldn't be able to pass a girl on the street without wondering what she looked like naked, how much pussy-hair she had, how her soft thighs would feel rubbing to Sandy's face, what her tender pussy would taste like.
And what her mouth would be like crushed to Sandy's juicy slit....
She was turned on wildly, far beyond Lynne's expectations. The blonde continually licked her lips, savoring the taste of cunt-honey, so new and exciting to her. Variety was the secret, because she'd always done the same thing with a guy's thick cum.
She watched Lynne with shining wide eyes as the swinger stubbed out her cigarette and reached for the dildo. She strapped on the harness and switched the on-button. Instantly, the long curved cock leaped and quivered to life. It was colored a bright-red, and although it had a rough surface when Lynne had bought it in a sex-specialty shop in Los Angeles, where the tall clerk hinted his wife would love to have Lynne use it on her anytime, the switch-hitter had used sandpaper on it to coarsen the surface even more.
Its effect on a tender pussy was shattering.
Quickly, Sandy sat back on the carpet and drew up her knees, spreading her tawny thighs wide. Her cunt sucked softly in invitation as Lynne slowly climbed on top of her.
"You're going to love this beyond your wildest dreams, honey," she whispered, flickering her tongue in Sandy's ear to make her shiver with delight. "Gonna fuck you like you've never had it before! Mmmmmmm, your lovely tits feel so good against mine, Sandy! Ready, angel?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" moaned the blonde, locking her ankles around Lynne's and squirming her naked tits against the other girl's feverishly. "Fuck me, Lynne! Give me every wild inch, darling! All of it, yes, wha? Wha-oooooooo! Ung!"
The first three inches slid in, the giant knob humming powerfully in Sandy's tight pussy, gorging her. Tears brimmed up in the lustful blonde's eyes and she slowly shook her head in disbelief. She'd used vibrators on herself before, lots of times when the relentless ache in her cunt became unbearable, unable to wait even a couple of hours for satisfaction.
But, Christ, this! The hundreds of tiny pimples on the colossal prick twisted and quivered in her thrilled pussy to send ferocious tingles of joy through her loins. Sobbing feverishly, Sandy wrapped her arms around the other girl and began biting her lips in tiny, frenzied bites, her soft flesh trembling with violence.
And then another inch eased in as Lynne fucked the younger girl to a lewd, steady rhythm, grinding their hot tits together with obscene delight, her fingers digging into the tawny flesh of Sandy's ass.
Now the gasping blonde was starting to come, her cunt massively gorged with the throbbing monster, her nipples on fire, her ass swinging wildly, her tongue swirling around Lynne's mouth, her hands frantically stroking her partner's soft hips.
It felt as if she were actually losing her cherry all over again! Only wilder, hotter, more deliciously nerve-racking as Lynne pumped deeper into her madly sucking slit, using every trick she knew to make Sandy get her rocks off like she'd never gotten them off before.
Their sweating, silky bodies writhing together, Lynne stroked brutally up and down, then from side to side in sharp jerks to make Sandy scream with maddening ecstasy as her fiery cunt began exploding with the most intense orgasm of her life. Now Lynne undulated her hips in wide, slow circles to drive her partner to the brink of unbearable joy, the humming rod tingling and sparking currents of depraved rapture in her tight pussy.
"Can't-eeeeeeeeee!-stop coming!" wailed Sandy, her body shuddering fiercely from head to toe. She lifted her ass high in the air, bringing Lynne with her, and she arched her back and tugged at Lynne's hair frantically.
"Love it," Lynne panted, her cunt in throbbing torment, aching for a huge dick. "Love to fuck beautiful girls!" she raved, lunging in a series of savage strokes to make Sandy claw her back and scream.
She was raping the delirious blonde now, her bizarre need for vengeance coming to the surface. Each stroke of the colossal rod was a drum-beat of pure punishment, slamming deep and furiously in- to Sandy's ravaged pussy. Kissing her helpless partner, Lynne didn't really kiss, but brutalized her with her lips and teeth, clinging to the last shred of her control.
Because more than anything at this moment, she wanted to slip out the gigantic cock and ram it viciously into Sandy's tender ass, just to feel her sexy flesh quiver with horror and shock, to hear her screams of anguish.
Too soon! she warned herself. She would ruin everything if she gave in to the violent urge, all the diabolical build-up, the loving blow-job, the glorious ass-teasing with her hot mouth, the wanton clash of sixty-nine, and now the fuck of the blonde's life, giving Sandy such shattering orgasms that the girl was almost insane with excitement.
Too soon....
Because every time she went through her depraved ritual with a new girl, Lynne savored the sweet joy of corrupting her by loving degrees, of turning her on so feverishly her new victim would be willing to suck and fuck with Lynne at the snap of her fingers, to go down on her for breakfast, lunch and dinner!
Corruption was the name of her bizarre game.
And once the girl was thoroughly hooked, then would come the vicious teasing, the chains and the whip, the savage rape of her luscious naked ass. And always it was Lynne's little sister she was punishing so triumphantly, the bitch who'd deserted her for life just because she got married!-denying their precious bond of love and sex when they were just awakening to the joys of lust as little girls....
But as Lynne passionately fucked the crying blonde, whose pussy was undergoing intense spasms from the lunging cock, ripping at every trembling nerve in her tawny flesh, the most diabolical idea of Lynne's life flashed in her mind.
Impossible!
But it could work!
The mere thought of it made her mind reel and her blood pound, and now the tempo of Lynne's fucking underwent a subtle change. She eased up on the battering strokes and began a sensuous, profoundly lewd rhythm, her kisses growing tender and yet lustful as she sucked on Sandy's ripe lower lip, nipping it lovingly with her teeth. She started fucking her luscious conquest with only one blazing intent-to turn her into her sex-slave.
Because she needed Sandy now, to get at her sister after all these years!
Now the fierce orgasms in Sandy's boiling cunt became softer, more dreamy and rich, slower and more delicious as the fiery-lipped swinger stroked relentlessly and with lascivious grinds into Sandy's molten pussy.
And it was working-the blonde was beginning to respond with feverish kisses, jerking her ass in slow, wantonly thrilled lunges, her eyes glazing over as she went through a certain barrier that existed in all women.
No matter how many times she had sex or who she had it with, there was a plateau to every woman's sexual response, an invisible barrier that prevented her from going to the very limits of her lust. Before this took place, even in a raving nympho like Sandy, exhaustion would set in, sheer sexual exhaustion from too many thrills.
This was nature's way of preventing a woman from going really mad from too much nerve-racking pleasure.
But there was a way to get beyond the barrier, and Lynne had done it a number of times with a number of girls. And once she got really into their most profound sources of sexual delight, they melted before her eyes, became her adoring shadow. Not just fiercely turned on, but practically unable to come without her!
The trick was perfect, flawless timing. You had to get them when they thought they couldn't come anymore, when they'd reached that plateau of static sensation, when their pussies were on the verge of surrender to fatigue and refused to experience any more thrills.
When that happened, you purposely eased up instead of fucking their brains out, which was Lynne's natural urge. By controlling her own ravenous lust, the sultry switch-hitter used her huge, quivering rod like a weapon of subtle persuasion, dreamily, languorously exploring Sandy's juicy cunt with every tiny pimple on her dildo, rubbing and loving the blonde's sensitive pussy with tenderness and cunning.
The waves of pleasure that resulted from this kind of sensuous tenderness were unlike anything Sandy had ever felt before. Just when she was certain she was too numb to come again, when the thrills became raw chafing torment, the abrupt shifting to a dreamy, slow-motion, deliciously tantalizing fuck stirred an entire new world of sensation in her ripe pussy.
Lynne was using everything she had now, but cautiously. Craning her head down to suck teasingly on one of Sandy's luscious tits while she lunged softly, like a film in erotic slow-motion, she trailed her fingertips ever so gently up Sandy's ass-crack to make her whimper and shudder dreamily. The swinger was weaving a web of thrilling suspense now, and it was an experience few women had ever gone through.
"Oh, my Godddddd," moaned the trembling blonde. Sandy was sharply aware of every lewd sensation from the wonderful feel of Lynne's hot, sweating tits crushed to hers, to the lascivious thrills Lynne's tongue was gently lavishing on her throat, to the soles of her tingling feet.
And the most incredible, profound feelings of her wild and wanton life were welling up in her sucking pussy. She'd never been fucked like this before, so dreamy and slow and nerve-teasing, every miniature pimple on the dildo a mountain of joy in her super-sensitive cunt, as the cock softly rubbed and tickled and loved her silken pussy-walls.
Lynne was able to keep up the relentlessly slow pressure by keeping her mind elsewhere, by firing her tireless power with thoughts of blazing vengeance.
Oh, Christ, it was beautiful! And that treacherous bitch, her respectable married sister, would never know what hit her until the last minute!
And yes, Sandy could do it. She was sexy enough, tawny and luscious and hotly desirable enough to con anyone, man or woman. She was smart, too, and Lynne would coach her in every cunning detail!
Tears of happiness welled up in Lynne's eyes as she continued fucking her moaning partner with agonizing slowness and tenderness. The blonde was crying steadily now, too, lunging her soft hips to a gentle rhythm as the massive prick created a delicious friction in her cunt, each obscene stroke in her pussy a miniature dreamy orgasm all its own.
Gone was Sandy's animal frenzy and raw urgent lust. No one had ever taken the trouble to really explore her tight pussy, not in blissful slow-motion like this, not caressing and loving every hot inch of her cunt by lascivious degrees.
Both their naked bodies were draped in hot sweat, but still Lynne pumped with exaggerated tenderness, watching Sandy shudder in slow waves from head to toe, seeing her ripe lips move soundlessly, her blue eyes stunned at the profound new sensations.
"I-I can't believe it," Sandy whispered, shaking her head while she rubbed Lynne's ass. "It's like-ohhhh, yess!-like I've never been fucked before, darling! Ummmmm, oh, ooo, oh, darling, aaah ... "
Every muscle of Lynne's sleek flesh was aching with exhaustion now, but she drove herself on to keep up the grinding, dreamy pace, knowing she'd pierced the barriers in Sandy's mind and burning loins. Even she had never fucked like this, an obscene journey that was so languid and intense, so fantastically thrilling to Sandy and so brutal on Lynne's quivering nerves.
The entire secret was rhythm. You found the perfect pace, hardly seeming to move, plunging the huge cock so slowly and lovingly in the girl's luscious pussy, each stroke took ten or twelve crawling seconds. And each second was becoming pure hell on Lynne's aching nerves, just as each moment was an eternity of bliss for the sobbing blonde.
Whatever else happened, one thing was certain: Sandy's hot pussy would never be the same. Nerves she didn't even know she possessed in her silken cunt were dancing with dreamy lust, awakening from a sleep that afflicted all tender and neglected pussies.
The blonde wasn't even here anymore. She was in a time-warp of passion, her mind soaring endlessly as her cunt thrilled to this sea of breathtaking sensation. It was impossible for Sandy to get her rocks off like this, but she didn't want to. She wanted this obscene dream to go on forever, to be fucked like this for eternity, wave after rippling wave of languid ecstasy engulfing her tawny hot flesh in gentle spasms, tingling her nipples and scalp and toes, and even her softly sucking asshole.
The dazed blonde was experiencing the closest thing possible to an endless erotic dream, because in her breathtaking slow-motion lunges, Lynne had somehow frozen time in Sandy's drifting mind Now Sandy's eyelids fluttered as if she were going to pass out, because she was in a limbo of passion, unable to come-not wanting to!-and unable to let go of the dreamy fire in her flesh. So vivid were the sensations from Lynne's wanton, deliciously slow fuck that the deeply moaning blonde felt as if she were all tingling cunt, that her body had become pure blissful pussy, every inch of her silky, drenched skin trembling in response to the spiked dildo.
Only blazing vengeance enabled the panting, exhausted switch-hitter to prolong the torrid act.
Sweat soaked the carpet beneath their lewdly rubbing bodies, and Lynne felt as if they were fused together, one melting mass of love and feverish passion.
At last she collapsed, shaking, on top of Sandy.
The blonde hugged her tightly, still making soft fucking motions with her hips, but even she'd had it by then. The precious waves of obscene pleasure were fading fast.
It was the most magnificent fuck of the nympho's wanton life.
And as she sobbed and hugged Lynne, the swinger knew she'd accomplished her purpose. Sandy was hers now. Because no man, unless his cock was made of steel and pitted with lustful tiny mounds, could give the delirious blonde what she'd given her for more than a solid hour.
"It was fantastic," Sandy whispered, rubbing Lynne's sweating ass happily. "So beautiful!"
"There's something I want you to do for me," Lynne murmured, her body aching intensely with fatigue. She was barely able to raise her head to stare down into Sandy's shining eyes.
"Anything!" the blonde cried fervently. "Anything in the world, darling!"
First, Lynne withdrew the dripping dildo, bringing a sharp hiss from Sandy's lips. Then she rolled over on her back, panting furiously. "Bring me a drink and a cigarette first," she ordered.
Moving slowly, because she still felt she was in a dream, the blonde obeyed, lighting the cigarette for her seducer eagerly.
"It will mean taking a trip with me when the caper is over," Lynne said, feeling a little better as she gulped her wine.
"Where?" Sandy asked, still dazed. "For how long?"
"I can't tell you that yet," Lynne said, sitting up and brushing her fingers over the girl's ripe tits to make her shiver. But the look in Sandy's eyes told her what she wanted to know for sure: She was her slave now.
"Will you come with me then?" Lynne asked her.
Slowly, Sandy nodded. "Anything," she whispered. "Anywhere ... "
Lynne smiled, feeling a hot throb in her cunt. She'd put aside her own urgent needs just to possess the blonde, but they were coming back now quickly. Still, the dark-haired girl wanted to give in to the urge to whip and ravage Sandy's gorgeous ass with her massive dildo. And Lynne felt that she could do it safely now, that there was no turning back for Sandy.
Because when the diabolical, sultry swinger turned a girl on with everything she had, they stayed turned on!
"You'll sleep with me tonight," Lynne said, standing up. Slowly, Sandy stood up, too. She frowned, thinking of Frank. Where in the hell was he, anyway? She'd forgotten completely about her lover in the past few hours, forgotten about everything except what Lynne was doing to her.
That she would never forget....
"Yes," Sandy nodded. "I'll sleep with you."
Lynne played with the blonde's ass as she guided her into her bedroom. The whip would wait. For that matter, so would her throbbing pussy. After a few hours of sleep, she'd wake up feeling ravenous for sex.
Then....
What would Frank do when he came home and found Sandy in her bed? Probably nothing, thought Lynne as she crawled between the sheets to join the waiting girl. He wouldn't do anything to imperil his plan. He'd already made that clear, that the caper came before everything, including jealousy and sex. What could he do anyway?
Fuck Frank!
In the darkness, Sandy hugged Lynne fiercely. "Do you want me to eat your pussy before we go to sleep?" the blonde asked in a husky voice. "You didn't get to come, darling!"
"No," Lynne yawned, suddenly feeling desperately tired. "In a couple of hours, maybe, honey. Just want to sleep now, that's all."
"Yes, go to sleep," Sandy urged, crawling down to kiss Lynne's creamy tits, moaning low in her throat.
Lynne smiled in the darkness, a smile of triumph. No one, no one in this world could stop her when she wanted something. No one!
It wasn't a bad night, not really. All she'd done was seduce and corrupt a sexy young girl so completely the girl was her adoring sex-slave now. And all it took was years of cunning and experience, perfect timing and calculated tenderness and savage passion, all fired by lust and the white heat of vengeance.
All she'd done was steal Frank's girl away from him!
By giving her the most shattering, blissful, spine-tingling fuck of her life. It had been sheer agony on Lynne's trembling nerves, on her stamina, but it was worth it.
And of course, the feverish blow-job helped, but that one was out of lust, not vengeance. Blondes had such delicious little pussies! The sixty-nine was nice, too, very nice, although Sandy could use a little training there, a little polishing on the lip-and-tongue action. No problem. As tired as the lewd swinger was, Sandy had fallen into a deep sleep even before Lynne drifted off. The girl's pussy was humming so happily, Lynne thought she could hear it whirring softly like a dynamo in the dark bedroom.
She hadn't forgotten the money, of course. Or the problems that would arise when Joe returned. Lynne tried to disengage herself from the blonde's feverish embrace, but she couldn't, because even in her sleep, Sandy was clinging passionately.
Lynne had never screwed anyone so thoroughly, so lovingly in her life as she had Sandy. But the blazing obsession now smoldering in her tormented mind like an ominous, rumbling volcano would drive her to do anything.
Even though her tits still heaved softly with exhaustion and her muscles felt raw, Lynne smoked one final cigarette before going to sleep, managing to loosen Sandy's tight embrace a little bit.
So many goddamn things to be careful about, so many complications!
If she could get her hands on the whole haul somehow, the diamonds and the gold and the silver....
But Frank was very smart, too. And he didn't trust anyone, least of all Lynne. He'd made that clear even when they were screwing like mad animals the other afternoon when Joe and Sandy were out of the flat. He wasn't bad in the sack, either, very well-hung. But Joe wasn't exactly great in bed, either, and she'd needed that one, craved Frank's huge throbbing prick feverishly at the time.
With careful planning, Lynne calculated she could get her hands on at least Sandy's share of the haul. Frank might suspect what she had in mind, but what could he do about it? The girl was mad about Lynne now....
And if she could get her greedy hands on Joe's share as well as Sandy's, that would be three-quarters of what might turn out to be two or three million!
She'd probably fail in Frank's case. He was much too clever and suspicious to be taken by her. And if she got Joe's share, he'd come looking for her with everything he had, and with buddies to help, too.
Not that he'd harm her if he caught her. The silly asshole was actually crazy about her, even after all the swinging she'd done on the side, even after the times she'd been caught!
He'd probably just take his share back, take hers as well for a while, and then forgive her, the dumb bastard, and give her her own part of-the haul back!
So her husband wasn't really a problem at all, as long as he didn't catch her fucking another man, especially Frank....
She stubbed out her cigarette and yawned. So fucking tired! Caressing the blonde's hot ass, she heard Sandy moan and make gentle fucking motions in her sleep.
What made it all the more delicious, what made her victory so perfect was the fact that Frank had warned Sandy against her. And Sandy was braced, too. Well, the hot little mink had melted like all the rest of them once Lynne put her mind-and her artificial prick-to it! And her loving lips and tongue, of course. It was her pussy-eating that really primed them, that did the trick. The cock was just a natural sequence, part of her devastating sex-technique with girls.
She'd never have been able to steal Sandy away from Frank if he'd gone down on her properly! A man just didn't appreciate the subtle art of pussy-eating, Lynne thought with a broad grin in the darkness.
Any man who knew just a few cunning tricks about going down on a girl, who understood and appreciated the delicate design and sensitivity of a sweet hot pussy, who knew even a smattering about the finesse and loving possibilities of his own lips and tongue against a girl's eager cunt would never have to worry about someone else stealing her away-stud or sexy girl....
How many men knew that sucking a girl's clit, gently at first and then with quickening rhythm, flicking your tongue softly against the juicy bud, always varying the pressure, could give her one of the hottest orgasms of her life?
Eating pussy was only secondary to sucking clit-buds, Lynne knew. And you always lapped the luscious slit before assaulting the tiny button, to prime her by gradual degrees.
Lynne was falling asleep now, her tits heaving more softly at last. So many fucking complications, between the diamonds and gold and silver and Sandy and Frank and Joe, and above all, her plan of vengeance for the sister who betrayed her for a stupid marriage!
But Lynne was convinced she could conquer them all. She always got what she wanted, through sheer cunning and nerve.
How could she possibly fail?
The sultry, creamy-skinned switch-hitter was asleep now, the blonde's mouth still pressed to her tits, Sandy's hand passionately gripping Lynne's ass in her sleep.
Lynne was very, very sure of herself.
She should have known, with her devious mind and vast array of tricks and double-crosses, that if there was always a way to succeed, to win, there's always a way to fail, too.- If Frank could have known what was going on in her mind, he would have given her a brilliant lecture on coping with the unforeseen, with the savage way Fate had of shoving it up your ass when you least expected it.
When he got home at one in the morning and found his girl asleep in Lynne's bed, hugging the swinger lustfully, he experienced just that feeling-an ironic twist that raced right up his ass and all the way up his chilled spine....
Staring at Lynne through narrowed eyes, Frank realized he'd underestimated the cunning bitch. Because there was a look of infatuation on Sandy's face, of sexual obsession that he couldn't mistake.
He chewed at his lip thoughtfully in the semi-dark bedroom, staring at the two naked girls.
Now all he had to do was figure out a way to steal his own juicy property back....
CHAPTER FIVE
Frank was awakened from his deep sleep by an alarm bell in his mind, which told him someone was standing over his bed.
He opened his eyes quickly. It was Sandy, holding a cup of steaming coffee. She wore her white terry-cloth robe, the one that showed her golden skin and ripe cleavage to mouth-watering effect.
"Morning, darling," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing him his coffee. Frank sat up, naked beneath the sheets. He always slept in the raw.
This morning he had a fierce hard-on-as usual. Normally, he would make it with Sandy when they went to bed and again as soon as she woke him up, usually by licking at his cock with her hot tongue.
But not this morning.
The sunlight streamed cheerfully into the windows, and Frank glanced at the bedside clock as he sipped his coffee. Eleven-thirty. He'd gone right to bed when he'd gotten home, after gnawing over what to do about Joe's wife. And what to do about his own sexy girl, who was probably no longer his girl....
The blonde watched him somberly as he lit a cigarette. Staring at her ripe lips, Frank wondered if they'd been digging down into Lynne's hot pussy this morning instead of his throbbing prick. Because Sandy always loved to go down on him in the mornings. She said it was her healthiest breakfast.
"How was your breakfast this morning?" Frank asked dryly.
Her eyes shone. "You're pissed at me, aren't you, darling?"
He shrugged. "I don't care if you swing with her. But I don't trust her. Neither should you, Sandy."
Sandy chewed at her lips, while her hand slid beneath the sheets to find his hard-on. She jerked it softly in her fist, her tits beginning to heave. In fact, Sandy didn't make it with Lynne this morning, because the swinger was gone from the flat when Sandy woke up. She'd left a note saying she had some business to take care of and would be back soon.
Now the lush nympho wanted her usual breakfast!
"Don't trust her," Frank repeated in a low voice. "She's out to screw us all, Sandy. In every possible way, not just in bed. Got it?"
Sandy threw back the sheets to expose his long, quivering prick. She was extremely confused inside, a torment of emotions. Last night with Lynne had seemed like an eerie dream when she woke up this morning, an erotic, deeply thrilling dream which left her pussy still humming with pleasure.
But she'd felt strange and frightened when she woke up alone, without Frank beside her. And as Frank studied her face, her shiny eyes and sexy lips, he sensed there was a battle raging inside her. Lynne had gotten to her, all right, but she still wanted Frank, too. Only at times when Sandy was confused did he realize how young she was-only twenty-two, in spite of her self-assurance.
"I-I don't know what to do, Frank," she whispered, her eyes still riveted to his fleshy rod in her fingers. "God, she turned me on last night! But I'm still crazy about you, too! It's just that ... when I'm with her, it's like I've got no will of my own, I'm all melted and weak inside. Do you know what I mean?" she added anxiously, staring at him intently. Although her fist continued playing with his long dick, her need for her usual morning sex was a hot ache in her pussy.
Frank nodded. "She's got a lot of sex-magnetism. I've met a few chicks like her before. When you're around them, it's hard as hell to resist their will. But you can't trust her, baby. Swing with her if you like, but don't trust her!"
Now Sandy took her hand away from his pulsing cock. She looked away from him, her face flushing.
"I promised her I'd-I'd take a trip with her when the caper is over, Frank. She didn't say where, or how long. But I was so damn hot and feeling so wild, I promised ... "
Frank lit a fresh cigarette and sipped his coffee before replying.
"I promised I'd grow up to be an upstanding, law-abiding citizen when I was a Boy Scout, too," he said dryly. "Look where the fuck that promise got me!"
Sandy's face brightened. "I feel better when I'm around you, Frank. I mean, our sex is healthy. But when I'm with her, I feel like her goddamn slave or something! And I can't help it, Frank, she-she's got me hypnotized or something ... "
Probably with her wild mouth, Frank thought cynically. Lynne even gave him a terrific blow-job, a mind-boggling oral rape that left him dazed. Like plugging his dick into a wall outlet, the best job he'd ever had, even wilder than the ones Sandy gave him-and she wasn't exactly a fumbling amateur when it came down to sucking him off with her frantic, hot lips.
"Why aren't you with the guard this morning?" Frank asked, getting back to business.
"Last night was his night off, thank Christ," sighed Sandy. "Got to meet him tomorrow morning, though. He drinks like a fish, so he shouldn't be any problem on the night we make our move."
Suddenly, the blonde leaned down and grasped his stiff prick in her burning mouth. She gave it a slow, lascivious suck, moaning in her throat.
They heard the front door of the flat slam.
Sandy jerked her head up, but Frank made no move to cover his body or his immense hard-on. A few moments later Lynne stood in the open doorway. Her eyes took in the scene quickly-Sandy sitting on the bed, face flushed and ripe tits heaving, Frank propped up naked with one of his lusty erections. Lynne's dark eyes shone hotly.
"I just went out to pick up some ham and eggs and orange juice," she said casually. "I thought we'd all have a cozy breakfast here for a change, while we went over the plan."
"I want a report on that janitorial service now," Frank said sharply.
Smiling, Lynne nodded and came over to the bed. She wore a black velvet jacket, a T-shirt and tight jeans. She took off her jacket and tossed it aside, then lit a cigarette and sat on the other side of the bed from Sandy. She exhaled smoke through her nostrils before speaking, her eyes drinking in Frank's lean body, his thick hairy bush and his enormous hard-on. She watched the tiny purple veins throb on his red dick and her pulse began to hammer softly.
He had a very nice hunk of meat, she'd discovered a few days ago. Her eyes darted up to Sandy's face. The blonde had been watching her with something like fear mingled with excitement.
It'd been a while since Lynne had a wild three-way, and a hell of a long while since she'd swung with a stud like Frank and a juicy young girl like Sandy at the same time....
"Well, as you pointed out a few days ago, we've got two options," Lynne said crisply. "There are only two guys and one woman in the building on Saturday nights. If you can keep them away from the two floors Joe will be working, it won't be necessary to get heavy with them, tie them up. The second option of telling them to go home early, I don't like, personally," Lynne said seriously. "Too risky."
"That's for me to decide," Frank said. He sipped his coffee, knowing she was right. He shunned violence of any kind, and even the prospect of just tying them up and gagging them for a couple of hours went against his grain. He preferred to use psychology whenever possible, brains over force.
But sending them home would make them suspicious. And if one of them checked in with their agency or possibly called the cops, there could be big trouble.
Like twenty years or so of bleak, caged trouble....
But the easier option led to trouble, too. They couldn't leave them tied up and gagged for the rest of the weekend, without food or water. If they released them, they'd call the cops at once. And the day-long cushion of safety Frank had planned on, the entire Sunday to get far away from the heat, would be blown. Damn!
He knew what he was going to do, even before Lynne asked him. But as the leader, he wouldn't tell her.
"When the time comes, you'll know," he said. What worried him the most was what Sandy had reported concerning the cops: They did not check the building periodically, and only rarely on weekends with the security guard. But once in a while, if they were bored and had nothing better to do, the downtown beat would stop by and shoot the bull with Bill.
That's all Frank needed, while the biggest heist in the history of the City by the Bay was going on a few floors up! Again, that taut, queasy feeling hit the pit of his stomach. That's what happened in the armored car job years before. At the last minute, two cops showed up at the drive-in diner for lunch, while Frank was wearing the driver's uniform.
With no cap and an ill-fitting shirt and pants.
And with three other guards passed out, drugged, just a few yards away in the armored car!
Their asses had been saved at the last second by the swift thinking of his girlfriend, another sharp blonde. But the mere memory of that harrowing close-call still haunted Frank, and sometimes he dreamt about it at night....
"Hey, look, you guys," Lynne said in her husky voice, slipping her hand beneath her T-shirt to stroke her tits. She was completely unself-conscious when she was horny. "You two look like you were on the verge of making it when I walked in. I didn't want to interrupt. As a matter-of-fact," she added softly, her eyes sweeping from Frank's thick hard-on above his huge hairy balls to the blonde on the other side of the bed, "I was going to ask you if you minded my joining in. Sort of a breakfast before breakfast, you know?"
"I don't mind," Sandy said quickly, her eyes avoiding Frank and her luscious tits beginning to jiggle. She'd never had a three-way before. For that matter, she'd never been sucked and fucked by a girl before until last night. And she was deeply, hotly curious about what it would be like to have both a huge cock like Frank's and a sleek, sexy body like Lynne's at her fingertips.
And squirming against ripe, eager lips.
Frank shrugged casually, but the idea excited him wildly, too.
As much as he resented Lynne for turning on his girl so feverishly, and even though he trusted her about as far as he could see on a black and foggy San Francisco night, he couldn't deny she was a terrific piece of ass. And he was dying to see her action in with the ripely curved blonde.
"It's okay with me, I guess," he said hoarsely.
Quickly, Lynne stood up and stripped while Sandy moved more slowly, taking off her robe to reveal her tawny tits and golden thighs. The contrast between her lush curves and Lynne's creamy slenderness made Frank's prick quiver fiercely.
Both of them slipped in bed with him.
And then Sandy was going down on him with a low moan of excitement, engulfing his rod with her hot lips and juicy tongue, the breakfast she'd learned to crave every morning as soon as she woke up.
Meanwhile, Lynne was rubbing her hot tits across Frank's broad chest and kissing him torridly on the mouth. A funny thing about Joe's wanton wife, Frank realized: You could mistrust her, dislike her and even hate her, but when it got down to raw sex and wild thrills, you couldn't stop the sexy bitch. She had this amazing facility for turning both men and women on, and the mere touch of her burning flesh and frantic mouth aroused him to a savage pitch of lust.
Sandy was sucking him off rapidly now, crooning in her throat and jerking the base of his prick in her tight fist. Her mouth was always boiling on his rod, and while she whipped her lips and tongue eagerly on his erection, Lynne's hand crept down and played with his balls.
Normally, Frank was a very long comer. He could control his excitement, and consequently his climaxes, to a remarkable degree through sheer willpower. But there was a fierce urgency to Sandy's juicy mouth and hot fist on his prick that began to crumble his control, and combined with the lusty feel of Lynne's soft tits rubbing into his chest and her teeth biting his lips lewdly, he knew he was going to shoot off soon if he didn't do something.
And while he loved to get his rocks off in his feverish blonde girlfriend's mouth every morning, he wanted to make the most of both horny girls.
The truth was he wanted to see Lynne and Sandy in action with each other. He'd never seen Sandy with another girl and the prospect excited him tremendously. He was also profoundly curious to see exactly what it was that Lynne did to the luscious blonde that had such a shattering effect on her.
He pushed Sandy away from his cock.
"Look, girls," he said, getting out of bed, "Why don't you two have a little fun with each other? I mean, Sandy lies back on the mattress and Lynne goes down on her while I fuck Lynne. That way, all three of us can get our rocks off, okay?"
"Sure!" Sandy said, so eagerly that Frank felt a stab of anger. Well, it was his idea, wasn't it? But he had to appease his curiosity about Lynne's pussy-eating. Shit, a pussy was only a pussy and he'd eaten enough of them, Christ knows, and there were only so many things you could do with a juicy little cunt.
But whatever it was that Lynne did, it must be shattering. Either that, or she had warts on her tongue that he'd never noticed before!
Now the blonde lay back with her knees drawn up and her ripe thighs spread, her pink pussy already clenching with anticipation. A drop of jism rolled out of Frank's cock at the beautiful sight. It was true that Lynne gave a wilder blow-job and was a more exciting lay, but he'd rather look at his gorgeous girlfriend with her lush tits heaving and her soft skin glowing and that wild, animal light in her eyes.
This way, he could do both-and watch the sultry swinger suck Sandy off at the same time.
Now Lynne hunched down between Sandy's trembling thighs. Her sensuous white ass jutted out, her cunt pulsing beneath, her dark bush soaked with her eager juices. Before Frank got onto the bed, he watched Lynne closely as she kissed each of the blonde's thighs in turn, her tongue trailing a path of fire toward Sandy's dripping slit.
Then with an obscene scoop of her tongue, the dark-haired girl lapped at Sandy's cunt-lips and immediately the blonde shuddered and screamed softly.
At that moment, Frank knew. Lynne was an artist at what she did, a true virtuoso at cunt- sucking. She had talent, that's all, raw lascivious talent that had been polished to a fine degree of mastery from eating so many pussies.
And the only way he'd ever compete with the cunning bitch was to go down on a few hundred young, madly sucking cunts himself. And while Frank didn't mind sucking a beautiful girl off now and then, his heart wasn't in his mouth, it was in his enormous prick.
So he had to give Lynne her just due as he climbed onto the mattress behind her naked ass. He just couldn't compete with her on her own level. But, by Christ, his cock was still hard. And the next time he used it on Sandy, he'd ram it home for everything it was worth, fuck the passionate blonde for a solid two hours if necessary, work over her pussy violently.
He knew about Lynne's grotesque dildo. But he figured he had the advantage here, because his was a live, hot item, the real pounding thing, not a goddamn phony!
He'd just have to use it with a great deal more skill.
While Sandy moaned and squirmed and panted as Lynne devoured her fiery cunt ravenously, digging deep in furiously with her tongue to extract her delicious honey, Frank seized Lynne's soft asscheeks in his hands and guided his hot knob to her slippery cunt. He eased it in and instantly the dark-haired girl hugged it with electrifying power, sending currents of hot lust through his long cock.
"Shit, what a wild piece!" Frank groaned. The very first time he'd ever fucked Lynne, he was startled at her tight juiciness, her fiercely exciting pussy. And each time since, he was still astonished at what a terrific piece of ass she was, at her obscenely torrid skill in fucking. She did things with her hot pussy that most men only dreamed about or read about in books.
He gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath as Lynne began her dazzling array of tricks, swinging her ass up and then down, shaking it from side to side, whipping her juicy cunt back and forth and then in slow, undulating circles to send spasms of fierce pleasure through Frank's pounding cock.
What a fuck! No wonder poor Joe put up with all her maddening bullshit. A man could overlook a hell of a lot of character defects for some of this every night.
And while Frank lunged and pumped his throbbing prick inside her molten pussy, he watched his girl get her rocks off in shattering rapture, crying and clawing Lynne's back and swinging her steaming crotch against Lynne's mouth in a frenzied rapture.
He couldn't deny that the sight of Lynne sucking off Sandy was one of the most obscenely arousing spectacles he'd ever seen. Frank had had three-ways before, but these two sexy, madly lustful girls were a perfect match, Sandy's tawny ripeness a wild contrast to Lynne's slender silkiness, lush tits versus small sensuous breasts, golden skin against pale luminous flesh.
"Coming againnnnnn!" wailed Sandy, fucking Lynne's mouth feverishly now. Lynne quickly responded by hugging her pussy-flesh in ripples of lust against Frank's long rod, making him groan.
Lynn was in her true element now, a massive prick tearing into her wild, eager pussy, a delicious cunt slamming to her mouth and gushing honey. The best of both worlds! And it brought the best of her depraved skill out, too, so that she lavished maddening sucks and kisses on the blonde's juicy slit, worked her tight, fiery pussy with all her savage power on Frank's burning meat, exciting them both tremendously.
In these moments of lustful glory, the wild switch-hitter was all mad mouth and fiercely whipping cunt, every inch of her sleek flesh on fire with depraved joy, doing the two things she loved more than anything else in the world, sucking and fucking at the same blissful moment....
Beneath her furious lips and tongue, once again Sandy thought she was losing her mind with uncontrollable ecstasy. Through a haze of tears, she could see Frank pistoning his red, slippery dick brutally in and out of Lynne's hot pussy, could see Lynne's sexy ass quivering with wanton happiness-and the sight of her massively hung boyfriend savagely fucking another girl only intensified her pleasure!
Her crotch swung to Lynne's mouth in the same lewd rhythm Frank was using on the swinger's cunt, as if his hot cock was going right through Lynne and connecting with her feverish pussy!
The bedroom became a din of gasps and moans and muffled screams as all three of them began coming at the same time, Sandy with her hottest orgasm, crushing her dripping cunt in a fury to Lynne's mouth. Frank squeezed the swinger's naked ass lustfully in his hands and gasped in a series of final, violent lunges of his bursting prick in her sucking pussy, feeling as if his jism was being torn from his loins.
And burrowing her mouth ravenously to Sandy's luscious cunt, feeling it tremble and spasm and gush with her sweet wet fire, Lynne's heart sang as hot cream spattered deep in her slit while her mouth sucked up Sandy's honey, both sets of lips hungrily devouring, both humming with power and greed and obscene glory, flooded at the same time with both sexes....
"Wild," Frank panted, climbing off the bed. It took another minute for Lynne to finish with the sobbing blonde, giving her a lingering series of hot sucks and kisses before she pulled away.
All three of them were silent while they caught their breaths.
But Frank couldn't miss the way Sandy was watching Lynne, her blue eyes shining fiercely.
Shit! Frank thought with disgust. His warning to Sandy had been useless. Every time the slinky bitch went down on her, she got hung up all over again! Christ, maybe he ought to take pussy-eating lessons from the swinger!
He'd have to get Sandy away from her. But he couldn't until after the caper. And by then, the way things were moving, it would be too late....
Now Lynne was aggressively moving into action without waiting for Frank. She shifted her ass up to the top of the mattress, and held Sandy in her arms, the blonde facing away from her, sitting between Lynne's drawn-up legs. Lynne's hot tits were digging into Sandy's back and she was kissing the nape of her neck and her throat, her fingers sliding down over the blonde's softly rounded belly, teasing her cunt-lips lasciviously.
And then she began to finger-fuck Sandy in slow, obscene movements, jerking her burning crotch to the blonde's naked ass, dipping her wet finger in and out of Sandy's pussy so cleverly, with such tantalizing care, curling the finger each time she stroked it in her juicy slit and wriggling it around to bring sobs of torrid excitement from Sandy's lips.
It was the most wanton, arousing sight Frank had ever seen. His long limp rod began to rise very quickly now, his eyes burning on the two girls, watching in fascination as the dark-haired corrupter teasingly finger-fucked his girl, slipping a second finger in to make Sandy cry out and wiggle her ass with passion.
The bitch was an artist, for sure!
She didn't just jerk off the panting-blonde. She made a Hollywood production out of finger-fucking Sandy, a lush epic of depraved triumph. Lynne's other hand expertly hefted and caressed and loved Sandy's feverish tits. She undulated her boiling cunt against Sandy's naked ass and pumped deep and slow into her luscious pussy, and inflicted sharp little bites on her soft shoulder and on the back of her neck, using everything she had on Frank's girl.
And he could see now how she did it, how she stole Sandy away from him.
She was just goddamn good!
Lynne used every lust-inspired fiber of her burning soul in sex, pouring her heart and her imagination and her cunning into a simple act of fucking with Sandy, kissing and biting and teasing and loving and thrilling, all at the same time, with a concentration and singleness of purpose so complete she was a magnificent lesson in lust just to watch!
And in spite of the hot flash of jealousy and anger in Frank, he now had the most urgent, pounding hard-on of his life as the sexy swinger corrupted and thrilled his girl before his eyes. Every inch of Sandy's golden flesh was trembling with passion and he could see her lustful pink cunt squirming and thrashing in a fever on Lynne's pumping fingers, pouring out her honey into Lynne's hand, sucking up her fingers with raw greed, twisting her head around to kiss Lynne savagely, jerking her ass in wild, quivering joy as she came all over the bed in feverish spasms....
Then, her tits heaving furiously and her pussy still in the throes of wild spasms, Sandy scrambled away from Lynne.
And she rolled over on her belly to clutch Lynne's hips in her hands and nuzzle her mouth to the swinger's cunt in a frenzy of hunger.
The sight of his girl now burrowing her ripe mouth obscenely to Lynne's dark nest, digging into her slit with lewd fury, sucking the swinger off violently sparked both an intense excitement and a stinging jealousy in Frank. He didn't mind Sandy going down on Lynne, or on any sexy girl.
It wasn't what she did that bothered him-it was the way she did it. Like a crazy savage, unable to live for another minute without a hot pussy grinding to her mouth. There was a depraved kind of fury in the young blonde Frank had never seen before, and it startled him. He had to admit she'd gone down on his rod with about the same amount of frenzied eagerness on a few occasions, but it was still somehow different with Lynne, incredibly obscene because she wasn't eating the sultry swinger's cunt-she was raping it!
Now Joe's wife dug her heels into Sandy's naked hot ass and gripped her head tightly and swung her boiling pussy up in sharp lusty jerks, low hisses of pleasure streaming from her lips, the rape becoming mutual.
And Frank could see his girl was getting her rocks off just from smearing her face and sexy mouth to Lynne's burning slit, could see her tawny flesh going into soft shudders of joy, the way it did when he pumped his massive prick into her relentlessly.
His lust was now mixed with a smoldering rage. No matter how many times Frank told himself he wasn't jealous, it made his blood nearly boil to see his luscious property having such a feverishly wild time with Lynne, because the cunning switch-hitter wasn't sharing his girl with him, she was dominating her, controlling her totally, taking over Frank's role.
It wasn't really a three-way at all. It was a contest, more of an act of depravity and defiance on Lynne's part just to show Frank who really pushed Sandy's buttons!
The sneaky bitch!
He understood now. And if there was any doubt left in his mind, it was quickly dispeled as he gazed at Lynne's face. It was contorted with excitement because she was coming in Sandy's mouth in sticky gushes of pussy-honey, but she was staring directly at Frank, her lips drawn back in a smile of vicious triumph, her eyes blazing with victory.
There was no mistaking the message: I stole your girl away, asshole!
Slowly, Frank's face turned beet-red with anger.
But she was right, and that's what really stung him....
The humiliating knowledge that here he was, in his own bedroom, a hard-on as big and stiff as a hunk of pig-iron jutting out from his thighs, helplessly watching his girl suck off a diabolically cunning and corrupt switch-hitter and completely ignoring him, made Frank's heart pound with fury.
He took a deep breath to control his rage.
Okay, bitch! he thought quietly. A number of possibilities flashed in his mind as he began to cool down, as his sharp brain started computing the odds. The only thing to do was get Sandy back.
Funny, he'd never once worried about losing the hot, sexy blonde to another stud. He wasn't that insecure. But losing her to a devious, treacherous, greedy, cunt-sucking girl was one of those quirks of fate he liked to call An Unforeseen Ass-Kicker.
Like those two cops who'd shown up at the last minute on the armored car job.
The angles and alternatives now began churning in his mind: He could move Sandy out to a motel until the caper was over. That would keep her away from Lynne, since he'd monopolize Sandy's time.
But that was chicken shit in Frank's eyes. He wasn't going to turn tail and run away from the slinky bitch. He had style, goddammit.
He could deliberately turn Sandy on to other girls. He'd pick one up for her, a stunner, just to show her there was plenty of other wild, sexy stuff around.
That solution went against his deepest grain, too. Since when did he have to pick up girls for her? If anything, now that Lynne had turned her onto juicy pussy-eating, Sandy ought to go out and pick them up for him.
Or he could get the luscious blonde back by outdoing Lynne at her own game. Not that he'd compete with her on a pussy-eating level. After that first lusty exhibition, Frank had to honestly admit he was no match for her when it came to cunt-sucking. What Lynne did to his cock when she got down on him like a mad sucking animal was a pretty good indication of what Sandy must feel. Lynne must have gone to pussy-eating school and graduated with honors to get that wild.
Or else she'd started her own school.
Frank just wasn't a muff-diver at heart. That left only his huge prick, and what he could do with it. Being as dispassionate and objective as possible over the situation now, watching Sandy tremble and moan as she sucked off Lynne with frenzied bliss, he tried to figure out what he could do to improve his performance. He'd always thought he was a pretty goddamn good lay up until now. At least, that's what dozens of eager girls had told him as they came back for more at every opportunity.
He would just have to fuck Sandy until she cried for mercy, until she got her rocks off to the point of screaming happiness and frantic delight. Whatever else Lynne had, she didn't have a live, throbbing dick!
But Frank had no way of knowing that the sexy corrupter had worked his girl's pussy over the night before with her monstrous dildo, using it with such cunning and power she'd beaten him to the punch....
And even if Frank had known, it wouldn't have altered his blazing purpose. He figured the day he found a girl who could outfuck him at his own game he was in real trouble.
And Lynne, in spite of her small tits and slender body and warped mind, was real trouble.
Frank held his fury and excitement in check while Sandy finished eating Lynne's pussy, her bobbing head between the dark-haired girl's crotch slowing down, her clawing fingers at Lynne's panting tits beginning to falter.
Then the blonde slowly sat up with a long sigh, her face smeared with shiny cunt-juice, her eyes glowing excitedly.
"Was it good?" she asked Lynne eagerly.
The swinger let out a low sound of contentment and pinched Sandy's taut nipple for a reply. But her eyes were on Frank's, dancing with vicious glee.
See, asshole, she's mine now! She seemed to say to him.
There are muscles located in a man's crotch. When flexed, these muscles send a rush of blood to your prick, a surge of power with each hard flex. Frank did these muscle-exercises every day in the shower for two minutes. Any longer than that and you end up with an ache in your balls and groin that will sharply caution you against excess in the future.
Frank was flexing these crotch-muscles now as he stared at Sandy's ripe, silken flesh. He was bracing his prick for the battle, for the most prolonged, strenuous, pussy-pounding attack of his life. But not swift, brutal or mechanical.
Just the longest, hottest, wildest fuck of Sandy's life.
No matter what the sultry, feverishly cunt-sucking swinger did to his girl, he had to remind Sandy that he was a man and she was a woman.
And that this throbbing, surging, quivering piece of massive meat looming out from his thighs was designed primarily to gorge her tight, sucking pussy and fill the aching hot desire Nature had put there for a purpose.
And if he had to shove it in a few other places to thrill her and prove there was no substitute for a healthy big dick, he'd gladly do that, too. Like in her juicy ripe mouth and between her silky plump tits-and without a doubt deep into her gorgeous ass.
He came over to the bed now, where Sandy lay panting softly and stroking her thighs, her ass moving in gentle undulations. Her eyes widened with pleasure, and she gripped his thick cock in her greedy fingers.
"Fuck me, Frank!" she whispered happily. "Oh, darling, I missed this! Fuck me!"
Those words would come back to haunt the madly aroused blonde just a few hours later. She would get her wish, of course. With quite a few burning inches left over. From both of them, her hung boyfriend and the depraved young wife who'd just finished raping her mouth.
Watching through narrow, smoldering eyes as Frank climbed on top of Sandy and the blonde spread her moist thighs wide, Lynne's senses were extremely alert. She'd spotted the look of anger and purpose in Frank's eyes while Sandy was digging her mouth eagerly to her boiling cunt.
He was up to something, the smart bastard!
And with her sharp instincts, Lynne guessed what it was. So he wanted a battle for his sweet-lipped, hot-pussied, nympho girlfriend, did he?
Lynne's nostrils flared and she padded softly out of the bedroom and went to her own. She got her immense dildo and her whip out of the drawer. Then she slipped on a very low-cut, sheer lacy black bra that pushed up her creamy smooth tits. Next, she put on a pair of matching panties-that were crotchless. Finally, she slipped on misty black nylons and five-inch spike-heels.
She swiftly applied dark, sultry eyeshadow over her luminous eyes and put a thick coating of crimson lipstick on her sexy mouth.
Finished, she checked herself in the full-length mirror. She looked incredibly exciting and obscene in the outfit, a smoldering angel of lust, a messenger of torment and punishment and passion and violent thrills....
Flicking the short black whip in her hand, she strode back into Frank's bedroom.
The battle was about to begin over the luscious blonde.
And all her plans for her magnificent vengeance for her sister hung on the outcome.
Her blazing lust and icy purpose a single unit of power, the gleaming-eyed, fiercely panting corrupter of sweet little pussies knew she couldn't fail....
Now, the battle for Sandy's hot, sexy flesh began in earnest.
CHAPTER SIX
Thirty minutes before, Frank had eased his huge hard-on into Sandy's eagerly sucking pussy. He'd already changed positions twice, first on top of her ripe curves, face to face, then dog-style, and now he was lying on his back, gratefully, while the frantic blonde rode his throbbing prick in slow, sensuous grinds of her hips.
Sandy sat upright on him, her tawny flesh covered with sweat and her eyes glazed over with wild passion. She'd come again and again and again, and still Frank stayed with her, his immense cock firm and pounding inside her thrilled cunt savagely.
She'd thought she reached the limit of her pleasure during the shattering session with Lynne the night before. And she had, but those intense, fantastically exciting sensations were awakened all over again!
Thanks to Lynne's relentless fucking last night, which had opened the floodgates of wild, hot new feelings in Sandy, she was now experiencing the very same breathtaking thrills with Frank, as his brick-hard rod fucked tirelessly.
She was fucking him dreamily now, the same way Lynne had worked the vibrating dildo in her tight pussy. Slowly, lasciviously, Sandy slid her trembling cunt up and down on his cock with soft shudders of ecstasy, crying with joy, clutching Frank's hands to her swollen tits.
"So wonderful," she moaned, rearing back her head and rolling her eyes, "feels so goooood, darling! Mmmmm, oh, you can fuck me like this forever, Frank! Ahhhhhhhhh! Unf!"
It was true that the dildo Lynne had used in her was more exciting because of the hundreds of tiny humming pimples on its curved surface. But it was also true that there was no substitute for a live, throbbing dick rammed up her tingling pussy.
The real thing was the real thing, and Sandy had tasted and fondled and jerked and screwed so many long, pounding cocks she simply couldn't live without them.
Lynne watched her ride Frank's dick with a furious glint in her dark eyes. She knew what was happening. She sat in an overstuffed chair with her sleek legs crossed, smoking and angrily flicking the whip in the air. She cursed herself for her own cunning. She'd given the hot blonde the fuck of her life, all right.
And in the process primed her for Frank. Rather than being addicted to the spiked dildo, Sandy had become obsessed with the glorious feelings she got from a thorough, hour-long fuck.
And it was obvious to the raging swinger that Sandy was wallowing in those lustful sensations all over again as she fucked her boyfriend!
At first when she'd come back to the bedroom, Lynne was going to join them, playing with Sandy's lush tits while Frank pumped his prick inside her, or licking and sucking her tender asshole, which she could do now because of Sandy's position.
But no! Why add to her pleasure when he had his stiff prick inside her? It was Sandy who would benefit, not Lynne.
Shit!
All the seething switch-hitter could do now was wait for her turn, like waiting for a pool shot in a game. Out of sheer spite, she was tempted to strap on the dildo and ram it up the blonde's ripe naked ass, just to show her how pathetic Frank's cock was.
That, of course, would be the end of her plans for her sister.
All she could do was wait, and the suspense and rage was building up in her with each passing moment. She'd outfoxed herself with the little mink, and this knowledge did not add to her disposition She desperately needed Sandy for her plan of vengeance. The blonde was perfect for it, lovely to look at, sexy in a way that even a woman would respond to at once, smart, learning rapidly how to go down on a girl for maximum effect. She had everything Lynne needed.
And now her goddamn hung boyfriend was stealing her right back!
Lynne pulled herself together, reminding herself that her turn hadn't come yet. Like a cliff-hanging pool game, she could still pull off some very fancy shots....
She went over her plan to take her mind off Sandy's wild moans of happiness as Sandy pumped her dripping pussy faster up and down on Frank's hard rod. Why didn't the bastard come? If she could just get her own burning lips on his prick for about fifteen seconds, she'd suck his load out of him so fast it would be a blur. But the blonde had it all wrapped up in her sweet, silken cunt, working it with fierce wanton abandon.
Lynne's plan was bold, but she felt it couldn't miss, especially if she had Sandy executing it for her. Together, they would arrive in the town where her sister currently lived as a respectable housewife. Lynne would remain undercover, of course.
Then Sandy would move in on her sister, coached thoroughly in advance by Lynne about her personality, likes and dislikes-especially when it came down to sex.
With that knowledge and Sandy's seductive looks, the blonde would have all the ammunition she needed to start a torrid affair with her sister. It didn't make one damn bit of difference that her sister was married and presumably "straight" now. So profound and wanton was the passionate sex affair between Lynne and her sister when they were still tender and impressionable young girls, Lynne was certain she'd respond with an obscene fury once those memories were stirred up.
And Sandy would do the stirring.
After all, Lynne's sister had lost her hot little cherry to her and she couldn't forget that, or the fierce, lusty orgasms that followed under the covers of her bed almost every night for years. She'd respond all right-possibly flip out, too! Lynne knew she couldn't do it herself, because of the secret shame her sister felt once she'd gotten married. But a stranger, a ripely curved, lovely stranger like Sandy?
The plan was perfect, and Sandy was the perfect angel of vengeance for her, too. And once her sister was feverishly hooked on Sandy's tawny flesh, on her gorgeous tits and sultry ass and hot, delicious pussy, then Lynne would show up-and triumphantly explain her plan to her sister: Showing her the obscene Polaroid shots they would secretly take of her and Sandy in depraved action. Pictures that would chill her blood when Lynne offered to give them to her sister's husband.
From that point on, Lynne hadn't decided what to do. It was enough just to picture her stunned and frightened sister at her mercy. Where would her moral righteousness and contempt for Lynne be then? What would the bitch do to get possession of the deadly pictures? Of course, she would submit to every depraved act Lynne would order, but the really important thing, the prospect that made Lynne's dark eyes glow dangerously and her sensuous face turn into a mask of seething fury and vengeance, was that her sister would be totally at her mercy, her carefully respectable life about to crumble.
Now the lewd switch-hitter squirmed her ass in her chair, panted feverishly, and flicked the whip viciously into the air, watching Frank ram his enormous cock into Sandy without really seeing the naked, lusty couple, lost in her own imaginary triumph, seeing her sister's beautiful face white with fear and shock, seeing her on her knees begging Lynne not to destroy her life, her standing in the community, her marriage, pleading for mercy.
Lynne was a woman scorned by the girl she loved, and had always loved since she'd eaten her juicy cherry, had had countless nights of wild, thrilling sex with, her own sister who'd sixty-nined with her in frenzied joy, had sat on her face and devoured her lustfully in return, had done secret, depraved things with each other that most women didn't even dream of in the course of their entire lives....
And hell hath no fury and no soul-consuming, blazing vengeance like Lynne when she was scorned!
These thoughts sparked a deep rage and excitement in Lynne, so that when Frank finally came in Sandy's hot spasming cunt, finally surrendered his control with the blonde falling on top of him and moaning and still swinging her gorged, trickling pussy on his softening rod, Lynne was in a state of smoldering tension, primed for the luscious girl.
Lynne got up and strode over to the bed and glared down at Frank. "My turn," she said bluntly.
His chest heaving for breath, Frank gazed at her, about to tell her what she could do with her turn. But, what the hell, that wasn't very sporting. Was he afraid this lusty bitch could actually steal his girl away from him again? He'd just given Sandy a blistering session with his huge prick, so what could this crazy, pussy-eating swinger in her sexy bra and panties and heels, with her kinky whip and phony dick do to surpass the real thing?
He smiled up at her coldly. "Go ahead, Lynne, But if you hurt her with that whip, I'll shove it so far up your ass it'll come out your ears ... "
He climbed off the bed, got a cigarette and slumped down in the chair to watch.
Sandy panted on the bed, her flesh trembling wildly. She'd been sucked and fucked so many times, and in such a violent, lustful manner by both sexes in the past twenty-four hours, she felt she was on the brink of losing her mind, out of sheer wanton exhaustion.
But as Lynne climbed gently on top of her, the contact of their hot silky tits rubbing together, their soaked pussies creating a delicious friction, Lynne's lips kissing hers with passionate fury, Sandy again felt all the madly exciting memories of last night sweeping over her body.
Lynne had left the spiked dildo and the whip on the floor beside the bed, in easy each. For a few minutes, she played with her moaning victim, sucking feverishly on her tits and tickling her asshole and her trembling wet cunt, arousing her all over again as only she could.
Then the switch-hitter crawled down between the blonde's satiny thighs, not really eating her pussy but teasing it with gentle sucks and kisses, delicate flicks of her tongue, showing how sweet and softly thrilling her mouth could be after Frank's brutal cock. Until Sandy's hot cunt was aching for it again, primed with her flowing juices, begging once more for satisfaction.
Lynne knew how to tease a girl to the point of madness, and when she'd finished tormenting the blonde's juicy slit, when Sandy was crying and pleading to be sucked off, Lynne got off the bed instead.
She leaned down and whispered in Sandy's ear: "I'm going to spank you a little, darling. You don't mind, do you?"
"Anything!" Sandy moaned, her voice urgent, her eyes wild. No matter what her boyfriend did to her, only Lynne could arouse her like this, could tease her cunt until she was ready to scream.
"And whip you just a little bit, too, okay? Tell me you want that, baby. Tell Frank you want it! Tell him!"
"Yes," sobbed Sandy, rolling over on her belly and sticking out her eager ripe ass. "Yes! Whip me! Whip my ass, darling! I want that, I need it, ah God, I'm so fucking hot!"
A smile of victory curved Lynne's sensuous lips, and she threw Frank a scornful glance as she picked up her whip.
"You will note," Lynne said to Frank in a cool, arrogant voice, "that she just begged me to whip her!"
Frank bit his lip but said nothing. His confidence was beginning to shatter. Once again he'd underestimated this conniving, cunt-sucking bitch! He knew it would be useless to stop her now. Sandy would be pissed at him for interfering, and Lynne would love that. Just wait it out and see what happens....
Standing over the bed with her creamy tits heaving and her face a mask of lust, Lynne cracked the whip over Sandy's ripe hot ass, but gently at first. The blonde's ass trembled and she moaned slightly.
Then the swinger brought the whip down again, faster with each stinging arc, and quickly the golden flesh of Sandy's luscious ass turned a deep crimson. Her cries became sharper, but each time the whip lashed out, Frank noticed that Sandy's ass actually rose up to meet it.
She was enjoying it, for Christ's sake, getting madly aroused over her punishment. He could see the sobbing blonde's pink pussy dripping and sucking beneath her quivering cheeks. She was actually getting her rocks off from the vicious whipping.
Frank didn't know that Lynne had primed Sandy for this the night before by first spanking her and then lustfully finger-fucking her, so that the association of pain became confused in her mind with sex-thrills.
Suddenly, Lynne tossed the whip aside and crawled on the mattress between Sandy's spread thighs. She leaned down and lewdly licked the burning flesh of her butt, soothing it, trailing her wet tongue-tip along the crack of Sandy's ass to make her wriggle with excitement.
Weird, thought Frank, but damned if he wasn't getting hot himself over the strange ritual. Lynne was extremely sexy in her erotic, lacy outfit, the sheer black of her bra and panties and nylons pointing up the milky whiteness of her soft flesh. She was actually beautiful in a stark, obscene way.
She wasn't the kind of girl you took home to meet your mother. Because if you did, your mother would probably end up in bed with her! On bottom, of course....
After a couple of minutes of wanton ass-licking and hot teasing, until Sandy was undulating her hips and begging for sex, Lynne quickly strapped on her dildo. Sandy twisted her head around to watch her with wild, shining eyes.
"Yes, oh, yes, darling! Oh, I love that! Mmmmmm, hurry, Lynne, ram me, rip me up with it, so hot, fuck me, FUCK ME!"
Now Frank knew for sure he'd made a mistake, and he watched with a sinking feeling in his stomach as Lynne mounted his girl from behind, switching on the quivering huge cock.
Then his anger and disappointment turned to raw burning lust as Lynne began to fuck the screaming, thrashing blonde, lewd, savage strokes of the colossal dick ramming deep in Sandy's eager cunt. Digging her tits into Sandy's back and biting the nape of her neck and squeezing the blonde's lush tits in her fingers all the while, Lynne pumped with thrilling power and controlled movements designed to get Sandy's rocks off in explosive bursts and spasms.
She could give lessons in fucking as well as pussy-eating, Frank realized. It was obvious she knew a great deal about what fired up and got a girl off tremendously, because she wasn't just screwing the panting, jerking blonde, she was churning and twisting and ramming the cock in expert maneuvers, first cramming one side of Sandy's slippery cunt, then the other, then whipping the dildo up and down, side to side, circles, shudders, wild gyrations, until Sandy was screaming that she couldn't stop coming and clawed desperately at the bed sheets beneath her.
And the sly bitch was so good because she loved her work, pouring her heart, soul and pussy into it. She completely ignored her own pleasure to give Sandy an incredibly hot and wanton fuck.
Still angry, more at himself for allowing Lynne to get into the act, once again underestimating the diabolical swinger, Frank went over to the bed. His prick was throbbing fiercely with blood.
Lynne was hunched over Sandy dog-style, with her pussy and asshole exposed obscenely through her crotchless panties. Frank knelt behind Lynne and grabbed his stiff rod and guided it into her wetly sucking pussy. Instantly, she gripped it in a savage hug, making Frank gasp.
He stroked about a dozen times, just enough to get his cock thoroughly soaked with her juices. Then he rapidly slipped his hard-on out. Eyes gleaming, he shoved his crimson knob directly against her tiny asshole.
Frank slammed forward with everything he had, every sinewy muscle behind the thrust, every boiling inch of his big prick tearing viciously into Lynne's tender asshole.
The swinger froze in mid-stroke, a low scream of shock and rage rolling from her lips. Then, to Frank's astonishment, she began pumping her gorged creamy ass with feverish lunges of her hips. Once the initial surprise was over, Lynne suddenly adjusted to the massive hot pressure in her narrow asshole, and now she churned and wriggled her fiery asshole on his immense cock with gasps of lust, fucking Sandy to the same savage rhythm.
Not only had Frank's idea backfired, because Lynne loved a massive hot dick tearing into her soft ass, but he was on the verge of getting his own rocks off any minute. Her tender tunnel was so juicy and tight and exciting, sucking furiously on his rod, that he could feel his cream boiling up in his loins for a massive gusher.
Up to now, Lynne had no trouble keeping her most bizarre urges in check with Sandy. As long as she kept her blazing goal in mind, she wouldn't risk turning her lovely victim off.
But the feel of Frank's burning meat ripping violently in her butt swiftly triggered her into a frenzy of obscene excitement.
And without even thinking about it she jerked the dildo out of Sandy's madly sucking pussy-and in the next brutal lunge, slammed it into her helpless, tender asshole.
The blonde's lips trembled violently. Her tawny flesh quivered insanely from head to toe. Jolts of searing pain tore through her ripe ass as the spiked cock hummed and vibrated in her bowels. Vainly, her fingers clawed at the bed beneath her and then in a sudden blinding spasm she came, a fierce, shattering orgasm that was no more than a savage reflex to the unbearable pain.
And then, mercifully, she fainted.
Frank wasn't aware of what happened, but when Lynne had lifted her hot ass up sharply to slip the dildo out of Sandy's pussy, the effect on his thick cock was a sharp burning thrill which sparked his climax.
Now, he came in boiling spurts in the swinger's slippery ass, gasping at the electrifying tightness and her wild sucking power, unaware that Lynne was simultaneously raping his girl in the ass.
As soon as her greedy ass-muscles had milked his last thick drop of jism, Frank quickly slipped his soft dick out. With an asshole like that, Lynne could put his cock in a sling if he weren't careful.
Only after he'd gotten off the bed did he realize Sandy was out cold. Lynne continued to ravage her silky ass in fierce lewd strokes, the maniac in her blood running wild and free.
Frank had to look twice to believe his eyes. The artificial prick wasn't in her pussy, it was in Sandy's helpless ass!
He grabbed Lynne and pulled her off roughly, and as the spiked dildo ripped free of Sandy's butt, she winced and cried out.
"You crazy bitch!" Frank snarled at the wild- eyed swinger. Normally, he had a very slow temper, but now he was moving abruptly, grabbing the whip. He shoved Lynne onto the bed so that her soft ass was jutting out.
Then he brought the whip down in a series of murderous lashes, each brutal stroke sending Lynne's body into frantic spasms of agony.
At first, he thought she was crying out in pain, but then he realized she was urging him on.
"Ungh! Yess, honey! Coming! Ooooo, it's wild, good, aaaaaaagh! Coming again, more, shove it up my ass! Unnnng!"
Disgusted, he tossed the whip aside and held Sandy in his arms. She trembled and her eyelids fluttered, soft whimpering sounds coming from her throat.
"Are you okay?" Frank asked her.
She blinked her tear-stained eyes at him. "Okay?" she echoed. "I-hurt, Frank! Oh, God, my ass!"
"It's all right now," he murmured, "that crazy bitch won't lay a finger on you again, I promise, Sandy."
Slowly, in a daze, the blonde looked down at the bed, where Lynne lay groaning and panting and rubbing her raw ass-cheeks. The swinger's gleaming black eyes met hers.
"It hurt," Sandy whimpered, trembling. "But-but I don't mind," she added softly, her eyes locked on Lynne's. "In fact," she whispered, licking her lips. "I-I kind of liked it, Frank. Yes, I liked it!"
Frank stared at Lynne. Now the switch-hitter's eyes met his, shining with fierce victory.
It was too late for Sandy, he thought with anger and disgust. The lust-crazed bitch had won his girl over, using Christ-only-knew what strange power. Already, the luscious blonde was beginning to show ominous signs of becoming just like Lynne.
But then, as Frank released Sandy and stalked out of the bedroom, heading for the shower to wash away his anger and disgust, he knew it wasn't quite over yet. He'd lost the battle, but that didn't mean he'd lost the whole war.
The caper was still a week away. Seven long nights and days. He liked Sandy, she was a terrific piece of ass and gave a torrid blow-job, but he wasn't about to cry over the loss. Losing the gorgeous blonde didn't really bother him.
Losing her to that cunning, insatiably greedy switch-hitter was what gnawed at his pride.
He decided, as he stepped under the warm spray, that this was one battle he had to win....
CHAPTER SEVEN
The security guard's uniform was just a little bit tight for Frank, but that wasn't why he was sweating.
He sat behind the desk in the lobby of the downtown building, trying not to stare at the glass entrance. Every minute or so he glanced at his watch, knowing the time damn well, but giving in to the nervous reflex.
It was one-thirty-five a.m., Sunday morning. The real security guard was now passed out in a cheap motel room on Mission Street, where he and Sandy had left the poor bastard. He was already full of booze when they'd slipped him three sleeping pills. He'd be lucky to wake up by Monday.
Sandy had brought him back there around ten, two hours before he was due to go on shift. And even though he insisted he couldn't have another drink, he eagerly gulped Scotch down like it was the last liquid in creation. Then it was a simple matter to strip him naked and have Frank put on his uniform. The functions of the various keys on the guard's key ring had already been learned by Sandy, and Frank quickly memorized them.
The guard he relieved behind the desk in the lobby seemed alert, but not at all suspicious when Frank explained Bill had called in sick and he was assigned for tonight.
"Sick from too much sauce," the older guard said dryly. It wasn't the first time Bill had gotten loaded and been unable to make it to work.
Frank signed the guard's register and watched the older man leave. He had virtually nothing to be suspicious about. Every night was the same ritual of quiet monotony in the old building, and weekends especially silent. No one worked overtime on Saturday night.
What made it such a piece of cake was that no one expected anything to happen-least of all, a three-and-a-half-million-dollar caper.
Frank lit another cigarette and began pacing the lobby, trying not to look nervous in case someone glanced through the glass front doors. As soon as the older guard had gone, his plan began to roll.
He moved to the rear of the lobby and unlocked the alley doors. The building was too old to have its own parking garage. Exactly on schedule, Joe and Lynne got out of the rented Chevy van in the alley and stepped inside the rear of the lobby. Sandy was driving the van, and she swung it quietly away, not to return until exactly two-forty-five a.m.
There were plenty of prowl cars in the downtown area of San Francisco, so it was decided to have Sandy return to the flat while they pulled off the caper. Safety first.
Next, Frank, Joe and Lynne took the elevator to the third floor. According to the guard Frank relieved, the cleaning people were on the third and fourth floors at about this time.
They got off on the third floor. One woman was mopping the hallway. Seeing the guard and two strangers, she gave them only a glance and returned to her mop. They walked past her. Suddenly, Joe wheeled around, and, with surprising gentleness for his size, he held her firm while he pressed the chloroform-soaked handkerchief to her nose. A few seconds later she went limp in his arms.
Lynne tied her quickly and they put her on the carpet of an open office.
While Lynne was tying her, Frank and Joe located the other janitor, a man vacuuming one of the offices. Frank started talking to him while Joe moved in from behind and swiftly repeated the ritual. The chloroform, administered in a very small, safe dose, would only keep them out for an hour at the most. They would be securely tied and their mouths taped when they woke up. The second janitor they left on the office couch, as limp as a rag.
They would be discovered shortly after eight a.m., when the day-shift guard showed up-and found no one on duty.
The lid would be blown about nine or so Sunday morning, but Frank felt this modification of his original plan was the safest course. His original plan called for his returning to the building around seven-thirty a.m., and, provided there was no sign of cops, waiting around until eight when the relief security guard showed up.
The guard did not normally check the upper floors himself. And if no one came by to get into their office on Sunday, then he would be totally ignorant of what happened on the third and fourth floor earlier.
To release the janitors, an anonymous call would be made to the cops around three that afternoon. This was a compromise of Frank's original plan.
But the more complicated the plan got, the more uneasy Frank felt. So he decided to hell with it-he didn't really want to spend anymore time in the building than necessary once the merchandise was ripped off.
If everything went off smoothly, there was no way any of them could be traced, so the time element wasn't that crucial....
He hoped.
He quickly located the third janitor on the next floor, and had him tied and taped in less than two minutes.
Next, the three of them used Frank's building passkey to enter the three diamond merchants' offices they were going to clean out on that floor. At this time, all they did was to cut the phone cords in each office.
Then they went back down to the third floor and entered the only coin dealer's office they were going to rip off, the dealer with the huge cache of South African gold coins. They cut the telephone cords in this office, too.
"The minute the lights go off, you're set," Frank told Joe and Lynne. Then he took the elevator down to the basement. His shoes creaked down the cold hallway, lit by a few naked overhead bulbs. His pulse was pounding now. Sure it was a pushover, but they were committed now. There was no turning back.
Twenty years-or a fabulous, glittering fortune....
He found the huge grey master-fuse-box, exactly where the guard had told Sandy it was located, just before the entrance to the boiler room. He fumbled for the right key to unlock it, finally inserted the correct one and swung the door open. There was a vast array of shiny black switches, with code numbers next to them. Next to the code numbers were conveniently marked the various floors.
He pulled two switches to the off position. There were the master switches for the third and fourth floors. The smaller corresponding switches on the bottom of the box were also pulled to the off position. This was the backup-generator system.
All electrical power to the third and fourth floors was now completely shut off. The alarm systems were no longer functioning.
Including the clever backup system, which was connected to the telephone cords.
Anytime the power to the regular alarm system was shut off, an automatic alarm was triggered in the telephone wiring. This cunning system was a modern innovation used in older buildings where it would have been too costly to replace the entire alarm system.
When the phone-alarm system was triggered, a special red light began blinking and buzzing in the downtown central telephone building. The operator would immediately call the police and inform them. Even in case of power blackouts, this system functioned.
Now, Frank shut the master-fuse box door, locked it again and went back to the elevator, a fine sheen of sweat covering his face. They had no need to worry about fingerprints. They'd coated their fingertips with clear nail-polish first. It felt stiff and uncomfortable, but it was easier than wearing gloves.
Now, in the lobby, Frank paced and smoked, trying to look casual and even bored in case anyone glanced through the front doors, from the street. At one a.m., he would have to sign the register and punch his clock. And again at two.
At one exactly, he went to the guard's register on the desk and signed, in a flourish, Billy the Kid.
Fuck them, put a little romance in it!
He lit another cigarette from the glowing tip of his last one, looking upwards, as if he could peer through the ceiling.
It was all up to Joe, now.
And that crazy, unpredictable bitch helping him....
"Don't fuck with that stuff," Joe said as he pulled the battery-operated drill away from the safe. He didn't turn his head when he spoke, but he knew Lynne was peering at the glittering display of diamonds in the glass case. They both had powerful flashlights. Aside from Joe's working tools, which fit snugly into a black valise, they'd brought one large empty suitcase. Jewels were very compact. The bulky stuff would be coins and small silveringots.
"What's the difference?" Lynne said hoarsely, staring in awe at the shimmering fortune beneath the locked glass.
Joe took out an eye-dropper and very gently unscrewed the cap on a small vial. He inserted the dropper and extracted just two or three drops. Enough to blow himself and his sex-crazy wife to hell and beyond if he got careless.
"The difference is," he said in his gravelly voice as he inserted the eye-dropper in the hole he'd drilled, and softly squeezed the bulb, "that shit is only worth a few thousand bucks. The real gorgeous stuff is locked in here."
"But I want that one," Lynne hissed, her eyes burning on a gleaming white bracelet set with exquisite shining stones. "I need that one, Joe! No one will hear me if I just take your crowbar and smash the glass!"
"Ahhhhhh, shit," Joe said with complete disgust. Slowly, he rose up from where he was squatting in front of the floor safe. He lumbered over to where his wife was shining her flashlight in the glass case. Crazy cunt!
Wearily, he took a key ring from his pocket and selected a small gleaming pick. In two seconds, he'd unlocked the display case and slid the glass door open.
"Here, take the fuckin' thing and then let me concentrate, will you?"
Immediately, Lynn went berserk, like a greedy child in a deserted candy store. She began stuffing jewels in her large handbag. Joe had figured something like this would happen, so he suggested she bring a large bag-and leave it completely empty except for a flashlight. He didn't want the dingy broad leaving her makeup and telltale junk around just to make room for hot jewelry!!
He thought of a friend of his, now serving time in Folsom, who'd broken a firm rule and brought his girl along on a job with him, to a fancy jewelry shop in Beverly Hills. The guy was a crack pete-man, but he really should have known better, because while his girl was a knockout with the most mouth-watering tits and juicy ass in California, she had oatmeal for brains. And in her greed to pick up everything in sight, she'd emptied her purse to make room for bracelets and rings.
She even dumped out her wallet, with her ID in it....
Lynne was much, much sharper than that of course, but still no one had brought any identification along with them tonight. And greed did funny things to people, especially where diamonds and women were concerned. Joe glanced over his shoulder at Lynne after squeezing a few drops of nitro into another drilled hole. She was panting and stuffing her bag and practically coming all over herself!
Jewels did that to women. And gold to men.
"Don't forget," he rasped to her as he stood up, his knees aching slightly. "That gets divvied up, just like everything else in this haul, baby. No stealing, understand?"
She didn't even hear him. She was totally hypnotized by the glittering stones, seizing everything, even men's cufflinks and tie-pins. Shit, if they'd had a jockstrap studded with glass doorknobs in the case, she'd even take that in her delirious greed.
Joe strung the wires along the floor as he moved back away from the safe, grabbing his wild-eyed wife by the arm in the process. "Blow your hot pussy off, you stay in here," he growled at her.
He trailed the wires clear back into the outer office, finally stopping in a far corner. He held a wire in each hand, the copper strands exposed at the ends. He didn't need a detonator box. Shit, he was a pro, and those things were for the movies. You'd think every safe-man was going to blow up Boulder Dam according to that crap on TV.
All you had to do was touch the exposed wires together, like this, until sparks flew....
There was a muffled boom, not even that loud. The trick was to use the exact amount of nitro, and not a drop more. On the street outside, it would sound like a faint, rumbling thud. Only two types of people would recognize that peculiar sound: Another safe-man and an experienced cop.
Now Joe and Lynne moved back into the inner office. In the beam of their flashlights, they could see the safe's door lying almost neatly in front of the blown vault, its steel corners slightly curved, like an impatient giant hand had pried it off.
"Jesus, Joe, you are the greatest!" Lynne whispered in awe.
She'd heard it said often enough, but seeing was believing. This was the first job she'd ever accompanied him on, even though it was against Joe's protests. Women didn't belong on a job, goddammit. They were a jinx, bad luck. Besides, if something went wrong, she'd be in it up to her nipples, whereas if she stayed back at the flat, she'd be safe.
But she'd insisted, flatly demanded, until she broke down Joe's fierce resistance. He still didn't like it, and he and Frank needed her like a case of clap, but so far she hadn't screwed up.
So far.
The one consolation Joe got out of it, he realized as he knelt in front of the blown safe and reached inside for a number of metal boxes, was that at least he knew she wouldn't be out screwing around on him for a couple of hours.
Next he brought out two black velvet trays. Rings glistened and sparkled like shimmering stars on a crisp black night.
"The good shit," Joe said happily. Moving quickly, while he observed his wife stealing a couple of rings from the trays and stuffing them in her bag-greedy cunt! He'd get 'em back later, no problem. Joe used the small crowbar to pry open the small metal boxes.
Cash in one of them. Mmmmmmmm! About twenty grand, at least, crisp hundreds and fifties. Maybe the joker was hiding it from the Internal Revenue boys, or maybe he just got lucky with the horses. Either way, it was theirs now.
Stones in the other boxes, big ones, a few of them uncut. He dumped the entire contents of the safe in the large suitcase, including the cash. He could see Lynne's fingers twitching wildly when he did this.
And then the real reason she'd wanted to come along began to rear its sordid head, by degrees....
Joe carried his valise in one hand and the suitcase in the other while Lynne shone the way, alongside him. She spoke in a low, urgent voice: "Joe, listen! It isn't fair to split the stuff down the middle! You're doing all the real work, Frank is just a lookout, more or less. Christ, honey, an eighty-twenty split would be perfectly fair!"
Joe said nothing as he moved into the next diamond merchant's office, studying the floor-safe. He kept the suitcase in front of him, in view at all times now.
"It just isn't right!" Lynne hissed beside him. "Twenty percent would give them a fortune, a hell of a lot more than they actually earned, Joe! They won't argue!"
He could crack the tumblers on this old warhorse, no nitro needed. He took out a chisel and a hammer.
"Joe, you've got to listen," Lynne whispered, clutching his broad shoulder. He flung her hand away irritably.
"Don't fuck with me while I work," he warned her. "And if I hear one more word about double-crossing Frank and Sandy, so help me Christ, I'll shove this chisel right up your tight pussy! Got it?"
She stared into his steely eyes and bit her lip, her face turning chalk-white. He wasn't going to buy it. All right, then, goddammit, it was all or nothing, now. She'd get the whole haul, and to hell with all of them!
Joe worked in methodical silence. The contents of this safe weren't quite as dazzling as the previous one, but it was quite a haul nevertheless. Again, a small green box with perhaps fifteen or twenty grand in it. Probably kept on hand for quick deals, or in case they wanted to buy something hot and couldn't write a check for it.
Lynne busied herself, meanwhile, cleaning out the display case. It was stupid to leave all this behind, she reasoned. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings-not dime-store stuff, either!
Joe had arranged to fence the entire haul, minus cash, more than a week ago with a reputable jeweler in L.A. The identifiable jewelry would naturally be broken up by him, stones pried loose from settings, gold and silver melted down, other pieces altered to avoid the "hot list" that would be circulated nationwide to jewelers and diamond brokers by the cops and insurance companies involved.
He wasn't about to argue with his greedy wife about the stuff she jammed in her bag. He'd simply take it all away from her later, not because of the value, but because it could be traced in its current form.
He was also sharply aware of what the sight of the diamonds and cash had done to Lynne. He knew, as he hoisted the suitcase and valise in his hands while she shone their way to the third office, that double-crossing was on her mind. There were certain qualities to his sultry wife's character that he'd always been keenly aware of, but he just refused to think about them.
Until now.
After all, exactly what was a terrific piece of ass worth to him? He had no intention of ending up in the grey, hopeless world of Folsom prison. He had no intention of ruining his prestigious reputation for honesty and loyalty by letting her double-cross his partners.
And above all, he had absolutely no intention of letting her screw him out of his share, either, which he was certain she was also thinking about. His three-day absence had given Joe a lot of time to think. His old man had kicked it at last, but the poor old bastard went pleading with Joe to find a decent woman and raise a family.
And now that his mother was alone in the world, Joe didn't bother to tell Lynne he was ditching her after this caper to return to Phoenix, so he could be close to his mother. And, in the words of his grizzled, pleading old father, finding a "decent"-whatever the hell that was, straight and old-fashioned, Joe finally decided-woman to settle down with.
Thus, Lynne's days were numbered with her husband, but she was totally ignorant of this fact as she watched Joe blow the third safe, which turned out to be the real treasure of the heist. In this one, there was easily more than a hundred grand in cash. This guy definitely smelled like a fence to Joe, which added a little poetic irony to the caper.
Now the couple moved to the floor below, only one safe left, holding the gold coins.
Then they'd be home free....
If the icy finger of Fate didn't decide to shove it up all their tender asses at the last minute....
At that moment, Fate was silently pondering Sandy, who had the tenderest, loveliest ass of the whole crew.
And when Fate moved against the juicy blonde, it struck with all the impact of a gigantic, brutal cock up her cheeks.
Just to be on the safe side, Sandy was in the alley behind the building at two-forty a.m. precisely, the engine of the Chevy van humming quietly in the deserted, chilly night.
She smoked in rapid, nervous puffs. At least it would all be over with in five more minutes, one way or the other. A lot of things would be over with, along with their sensational caper.
Including her wanton affair with Lynne. She'd begun to detest that faint, helpless feeling every time she was around the sexy, gleaming-eyed swinger, even though Sandy couldn't deny the sex was torrid and feverishly wild. And when it came down to the crucial issue of loyalty, she would stick with Frank, all the way down the line. Frank had already agreed to go along with her on the search for her father, making a swinging vacation out of it.
Sandy had no desire to make it with her father again once she found him. What happened years ago was over with him, but she just wanted to see him again, just to make sure he was all right, not sick or lonely or broke. She'd send some money to her mother, too, a few thousand anyway, although she knew her crazy mother would give it all away to some spiritual cult or church, and then pray for Sandy's soul.
She glanced at her watch: Two-forty two. In three suspenseful minutes, she fervently prayed, the three of them would come barreling out of the rear entrance and leap into the van, hoisting the treasure with them.
Headlights shone brightly in her rear-view mirror.
A car was crawling in the alley behind her, slowly moving up on her.
And then Sandy saw the sickening, familiar outline of a cop car, the band of blinding lights on top.
Terror clutched at her heart like an icy fist. Oh, Jesus, she thought, her knees trembling. Oh shit, not now! NOT NOW!
They came to a halt behind her, although she wasn't blocking the alley.
What seemed to be an eternity passed, although it was only twenty seconds or so. Then one of the two cops got out and cautiously moved up to her, gun unholstered, flashlight suddenly blinding her eyes.
"What are you doing here, Miss?" She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice even.
"Just waiting for my boyfriend, officer. For a goodnight kiss. He's the security guard in this building," she added quickly.
"What's his name, Miss?" the cop said softly.
At that moment Sandy's mind utterly froze. If they'd been to the front of the building and already checked, then they knew the usual night guard wasn't there! But all of the goddamn silly, stupid, dangerous oversights, Frank had completely forgotten to tell her what name he would be using if the cops questioned him!
"What's his name, Miss?" the cop asked, more harshly this time.
"Bill," she whispered. "Bill Hart."
And the cop suddenly seemed to relax, lowering the flashlight. He grinned at her. He knew Bill, but he didn't know Bill wasn't on duty in the lobby.
"Bill's married, you know," the cop said.
"Well, I'm not," she managed to say with a grin.
"Oh, really?" the cop said. And then he leaned his elbow on the windowsill and Sandy wanted to scream. Not now, asshole! Don't get romantic now, oh, Christ, any second now they're going to come charging out of that back entrance and here's a cop car, and a cop with his gun still unholstered only six feet away. Sandy felt like she was going to throw up out of pure nauseating fear, and....
The cop car's radio crackled loudly.
Suddenly, the cop jerked his head and looked back at the police car.
The radio crackled again and his partner shouted something from the driver's seat. Then the cop was moving, running, and before he even got his legs in the cop car, it was roaring past Sandy, down the alley. At the junction of the alley where it met the street the siren went on, ear-shattering, and the flashing red lights went on, and then the car was gone in a scream of burning rubber....
Sandy let out a whimper. Her flesh was covered with dripping sweat from her scalp to her toes.
And then the building's alley door opened very, very cautiously a couple of inches and Frank whispered her name.
"Come on!" she cried, "move it, move it, come on!"
He trotted out, carrying the suitcase, followed by Lynne and Joe, who hoisted two big canvas bags, grunting with effort as they tossed them into the back of the van, where they crashed.
Then Sandy was jamming her foot to the accelerator as the Chevy roared noisily down the alley.
"Hey, take it easy!" Frank said, beside her.
"Fuck you," she sobbed, unable to explain it yet, not realizing that they'd just missed those bleak grey walls of prison by a few agonizing seconds, all because there'd been an armed robbery a mile away in the Mission District, two gunmen holding up an all-night market....
Fate had shoved it up the blonde's beautiful ass, but only for one teasing stroke, just a tickle before it slipped its icy rod out and then savagely rammed it up someone else.
She wouldn't stop trembling for days....
The exact take from the caper, before fencing, was three-million, six-hundred-thousand and ninety-four dollars. The headlines across the country screamed it was close to five million, and they all had to laugh because they knew how the diamond merchants and the coin dealer had lied to the insurance companies.
The take for the four of them, after Joe fenced the goods in Los Angeles, was eight-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This amount was the result of harsh bartering on both sides, the fence pointing out that the stuff was very, very hot and would be for a long time to come, Joe claiming that the uncut diamonds and the gold coins weren't at all hot, but in a sense he knew they were. Where the hell do you dump almost two thousand freshly minted gold coins? And two hundred small silveringots?
And the diamonds were worthless without a reliable fence.
And, most important, eight-hundred and fifty thousand in cash in small bills, was not to be sneezed at.
Plus one-hundred and forty-six-thousand dollars in additional cash from the safes.
And a small fistful of perfect glowing diamonds, for each of them, with the vow not to sell them or attempt to, for at least five years. They had to have a senti mental souvenir, and even Joe was persuaded it was safe.
Thus, each one of them ended up with just a bit over two-hundred and forty-nine-thousand dollars in cash, or a pussy-hair away from a quarter of a million dollars apiece.
And the shimmering souvenirs.
They all pitched in twenty-five hundred apiece for the unlucky guard, and it was sent to him in cash, via registered mail.
Ten-thousand for a job he couldn't stand anyway, and would probably have quit in a few more months.
Although one of the cops in the alley that night had gotten a clear look at Sandy for a minute, the face might have belonged to any of thousands of sexy young blondes-pert nose, ripe mouth, wide blue eyes and golden hair. There wasn't even enough there to make up a composite sketch for the newspapers. As the Chief of Detectives exclaimed in an acid voice, "What the fuck we gonna do-parade ten thousand sexy broads in a lineup every day?"
The two unfortunate cops were back walking a beat in one of the roughest sections of the city, although it was Fate that had gleefully shoved it up their asses. After all, it wasn't their goddamn fault two assholes decided to rob an all-night market at just that precise moment. The sons of bitches couldn't even wait five minutes!
Fate had left them a mere minute away from public acclaim and glory, a bitter irony that would haunt them for years to come.
Just after the cash was split in a Los Angeles motel room, they all went their various ways.
Joe left Lynne, and flew to Phoenix to be with his aging mother and to find a "decent" woman. He would miss the sexy swinger's wild lips and fantastic pussy, but those were the bumps. His nerves needed a long rest, anyway, after living with her for four years.
Frank and Sandy went to Mexico City for a week, having already commissioned a private detective agency to start the search for Sandy's father.
And Lynne spent over two thousand in sexy clothes, and that very same night, not even batting an eyelash over Joe's sudden departure, knowing she would have ditched him soon and congratulating herself for waiting, since she now had almost a quarter of a million in crisp green cash, the sultry, hot-eyed swinger went hunting.
For the perfect girl.
The girl she had in mind was a lot like Sandy, perhaps a few years younger and silkier, but smart, so she could be coached and trained for her vital assignment. Because vengeance still burned in her heart like a blinding beacon, and now that Lynne was rich, she could afford that blissful luxury.
And even if it took the wanton switch-hitter a while to find just the right girl, that was all right, too, because the search wasn't at all boring.
There were so many gorgeous young girls around, not to mention studs....
And now she had it all, money and passion and looks and youth-but the most precious gift by far was her fierce, sweet excitement over what was coming soon for her sister.
Sometimes when she thought about that vengeance, tears of ecstasy came to her eyes and her panties would be soaked with hot anticipation, and life was oh so beautiful when you were rich and loved to eat pussy and came in soft shudders just thinking about the delicious fury of vengeance, at last....
