I am a girl. My name is Nancy. I am nineteen, almost twenty now. Most men think I'm pretty. Lots of them have told me so. My hair is rather short. Blond. My skin is fair but tans easily and in the summer my breasts look very white when I take off my swimsuit. My nipples look like almost ripe berries. They get taut and hard easily.
I'm a bit on the slender side I guess, but not skinny. My legs muscle up nicely when I walk. My stomach is flat. My pussy is soft and velvety inside, like I guess it should be. My hair is blond and wispy there and when I stand in front of the mirror I can see the pinkish, usually moist lips beneath. Everyone says I have a nice smile. I guess I do smile and laugh a lot, but I feel serious about things sometimes too. My eyes are blue. A very light blue. I like nice clothes and fancy underthings. I like to walk along a sidewalk and listen to my heels click against the pavement. Sometimes I spend hours lounging in my room doing nothing but listening to music. I've had my times with men. In fact more has happened to me in the last year than to most girls in a lifetime. Some things exciting, wonderful. Others unpleasant, even frightening. I've reached a crossroads now I guess you'd call it. How I got there is mostly what this is all about.
I came to Blue River, a Midwestern city of 100,000 a little over a year ago. I was just eighteen then, a virgin. I'd graduated from high school in the spring and wanted to go on to college-not just to meet boys either. I really intended to study botany seriously. As a child I'd always loved plants and flowers and wanted to learn everything about them. I used to imagine myself discovering a new flower and having it named after me. A beautiful flower. A white one.
Anyway, the closest college was in Blue River. A state college. My family didn't have much money, my father said that he'd pay for the tuition and books but that I'd have to earn my own living expenses. So when I came to Blue River in late August, the first thing I did was to look for a job. I found an ad in the paper for someone to do light housework in exchange for room and board. I called about it and was told to come for an interview.
The house was a large one on top of a hill. It was brown and needed paint but it was beautifully furnished inside. Mrs. Van Huesen was very nice when she talked to me and liked it that I was planning to go on to school. She said she knew it'd be a lot of work but that she'd pay $5.00 a week extra for spending money. So I took the job when she offered it.
It was pleasant enough working there. The Van Huesens were all very neat and there wasn't much picking up to do. Mr. Van Huesen went out of town almost every week on business. Mrs. Van Huesen spent a lot of her time doing club work. They had two children, a boy about a year younger than I, and a girl nine. The boy's name was Dave. At first I didn't see much of him although his room was next to mine.
Though simply furnished and much smaller than the others, my room was quite pretty, especially the lacy white curtains and a beautiful lamp on the dresser with an antique red glass shade. My bed was comfortable and the closet had plenty of room for my clothes. I liked lying on my bed for hours at night with only the red lamp glowing, listening to my favorite records on the small phonograph I'd brought from home.
One night, about a month after I'd been there, I set my clock and went to bed early. Lying in bed. I couldn't remember whether I'd pulled out the alarm button. I got up and crossed the room to the dresser to check it. I noticed a spot of light coming through a small hole in the door that separated Dave's bedroom from mine. I don't know why the door was there. The rooms had probably been a suite or something at one time. But now the door was locked on both sides.
Curious, I moved closer to the spot of light and peered through the small hole in the door. I was startled to see Dave lying naked on his bed, reading a magazine. The sight of his penis jutting up between his thighs shocked me. I turned away immediately and started back to my bed. But I'd never seen a man's penis before and I was drawn back to the spot of light. I stared into Dave's room. I could feel my body tremble. I felt guilty looking at him but I couldn't take my eyes away.
After several minutes he let the magazine drop to the floor and he put his hands under his head, gazing up at the ceiling. His profile even, his chest full and muscular, and his cock long and hard he looked very attractive to me. I'd never thought of him as being a man before: he'd just been the boy who lived in the house where I worked. But all that was suddenly changed now. The sight of his nude form stirred an excitement in me I'd never felt before, yet frightened me a little too. I'd never realized men's penises were so big. I'd had boys press themselves up against me at dances and when kissing me goodnight after dates, but I'd only felt the tips of them rubbing against me. Once at a movie a boy had placed my hand between his legs. I'd squeezed him through his trousers for a moment before pulling my hand away, but he hadn't felt nearly so big as Dave now looked.
I must have stood there nearly five minutes; it seemed like an hour. Finally it all made me too nervous, and I was getting cramps in my stomach. I straightened up and tiptoed back to bed. I closed my eyes tight but I kept seeing Dave's penis sticking up. My hand crept up my thighs. Between them. My fingertips traced the soft moist portals as I kept imagining the sight of Dave's large cock.
In a moment I got up and started back to the place by the door. Then instead I abruptly crossed the room and turned on the red lamp to stare at myself in the mirror. My nipples were poking out against my aqua nightgown. I could see the blond curls around my pussy through the flimsy material. When I glanced back at the door, the light was gone.
It struck me strange that the light in Dave's room had gone off just after I'd turned mine on. I had an idea about what it meant so I turned off the lamp and went back to my bed, watching the door. The spot of light reappeared almost immediately. Then I knew. I wondered how often he'd watched me. Dressing. Undressing. Probably every night. I thrilled at the thought of all the times he must have seen me naked. My breasts, my vagina, my thighs. Often on the hot nights during the last month I'd relaxed naked in the chair or on my bed for hours, listening to my records and enjoying the night breeze against my skin.
The excitement took hold of me and I decided to test it once more. I got up, turned on the lamp again, and stood in front of the mirror. In a few seconds Dave's light went off again. The excitement surged inside me. My whole body tingled as I sensed him watching. I brushed my hair for a minute, then rearranged the things on my dresser. I felt strange and awkward knowing his eyes were on me, but it thrilled me too.
Finally I sat down in the chair near the window. I crossed my legs, letting my gown hike up so that my thighs were bare almost to my pussy. I picked up a book and pretended to read. I felt so jumpy that I could barely make out the print. I wished I didn't have the nightgown on. I wished he could be looking at me naked, but I couldn't take the gown off now and just sit there without any clothes on-it would be too obvious. I spread my legs as much as I could and lay my head back on the chair, pretending to fall asleep. I enjoyed knowing that he was looking between my thighs and I felt the wetness gather on my pussy lips. I wished that he could see my breasts naked too, the pink nipples spiking out. I wished I could do something about the gown-rip it off, be completely naked in front of him.
There was one way: I could change into my pajamas, as if I'd suddenly decided I didn't want to wear the gown. I got my white silk pajamas out of the dresser drawer. I laid them across the bed and reached for the hem of my nightgown.
I felt my body going wild as I lifted the gown over my thighs, my pussy, my stomach, my breasts. My cunt ached. A deep ache. I didn't put on the pajamas right away. I brushed my hair again. I stood at an angle so that Dave would be able to see my breasts and pussy.
At last I felt I had to put the pajamas on. I couldn't just stand there nude all night. I slipped on my pajama top slowly and buttoned it. I stood for another moment with my cunt bare, then pulled on the bottoms. I turned off the lamp and went back to bed, still shivering with excitement. I kept watching the door for his light to come back on, but it didn't. Finally I shut my eyes and snuggled up against the pillow. I kept thinking about how it had been to have him looking at my naked pussy. It made me warm all over. My hands moved my pussy and I stroked it lightly, thinking about his big, thick cock, pointing up. I stroked my cunt harder, feeling the pressure, the exquisite excitement building. I felt myself drifting off, floating. I was on a mountain looking down at a valley below, with clouds all about me. The sky was powdery blue. I felt very warm in the sun. I kept rising. Higher. Into the clouds. Very hot now, close to the sun. The pressure grew intense. I felt myself explode. It lasted but an instant, then all settled quickly as I lay on the shore of a blue ocean below the mountain. The sand was coarse but warm, the sun was hot. I heard the breakers licking at the sand. In the distance I heard thunder...
CHAPTER TWO
The next night I went to my room early, undressed and walked about the room naked. It was September but the night was hot so I had an excuse. I listened to records and brushed my hair and pretended to study. And thrilled, knowing that Dave was watching me from the darkness on the other side of {he door.
It went on that way each night after. Sometimes I'd start to feel guilty and would slip on a nightgown. But soon the gown would begin to hike up, my thighs would start to slide apart. I never touched myself when he could see me though. For that I lay on the far side of my bed out of his view. But after the first night I really didn't enjoy it as much. No mountain top. No breakers slapping on a sandy beach. Instead it just brought an end to everything: unsatisfactory, mildly pleasant but incomplete. Afterwards I kept imagining how it would feel to have Dave's cock pushing slowly up into my pussy, past the outer folds, between the moist soft walls. Then deeper into places mysterious even to me.
I watched him too- not often. I was always afraid he'd discover me. But sometimes I couldn't help myself...
I'd heard the shower running and was waiting in the darkness next to the door. He came back to his room, took off his robe and draped it over a chair. His penis hung limp and small. He glanced at the door between our rooms, then sat on the bed and turned on a small radio. He lay back and clasped his hands beneath his head. He stared at the ceiling while I stared at his penis, soft and limp against his belly. Then it began to swell and harden as I watched fascinated.
I was awed at the size of it. My pussy began to itch. His hand moved to his penis and he stroked the length of it. I could hear my heart pounding. Suddenly he got up and turned off the light. The radio continued to play. I felt very much alone in my room looking at nothing but the blackness. I started toward the dresser to turn on the red lamp but didn't. Instead I flopped on my bed.
The night seemed empty. But tense. I knew I couldn't take this much longer-my body craved something more, though. I'd hardly ever been touched. I'd never considered something like this happening. I lay there for hours thinking about how it would feel to have Dave's swollen prick inside me, the touch of it, the size of it, the sensation of the skin rubbing hard against my own. When the dawn light began to creep through the window, I felt I hadn't slept at all.
I fidgeted in my room for a long time before going ahead with the plan I'd been forming for several days. I was afraid that after driving a few blocks Mrs. Van Huesen would discover she'd forgotten something and come back. Dave and I were alone in the house. It was time now. I wasn't quite sure how he'd react. We'd barely spoken to each other the whole time I'd been working there, but I knew that underneath something had been building between us.
I took off my blouse and skirt slowly. Then my slip, stood for a moment in my wispy bra and panties. The light was out in Dave's room. I knew he was watching. I slipped my bra off and stepped out of my panties. I stood there for a moment, pretending to be looking for something on the dresser. The pressure started to build inside me. Finally I put on my pale green robe and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
I left the door open a foot or so and turned on the water in the tub. When the tub was full, I stepped in gingerly and sank into the hot water. I felt the wet heat caress my buttocks, my thighs. I splashed the water as loudly as I could, hoping that Dave would get the idea of coming into the bathroom by himself. Nothing happened. He hadn't guessed what I was doing at all. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer.
"David... Dave," I called. "Could you help me? Get something?"
No answer.
"I forgot to get a washcloth and towel, Dave," I said. "I'm in the tub already... taking a bath."
At first there was no sound from his room-then footsteps. "Huh? You want me to bring you a towel?" he said. The footsteps moved closer.
"And a washcloth," I said. "If I get out now, I'll get the floor all wet."
He didn't answer. The footsteps stopped. Then I heard him open the linen closet in the hall. He held a towel and washcloth in front of the partly open bathroom door. I couldn't see his face. "These do?" he asked.
"Yes, fine," I said.
He mumbled something as his arm stretched through the doorway. He hung the towel and washcloth on the rack behind the door.
"No, in here," I said. "Hand them to me."
"You want me to come in there?"
"Mmm hmn... "
He stepped inside the door. Our eyes met. I smiled up at him. His face reddened. My breasts ached at having him look at them. "I'll take the washcloth," I said. "Why don't you hold the towel. You can sit down there if you want to." I tried to speak casually. But I could hear the trembling in my voice.
He sat down on the small leatherette stool next to the tub. He didn't say anything. He just stared at me.
I started to feel embarrassed. It was different being naked in the same room with him instead of with a door between. I groped for something to say. "Would you like to soap my back?" I asked finally. "I always have trouble reaching myself there."
"All right... sure," he said. He leaned forward.
I soaped the washcloth and handed it to him. His eyes looked hungry. I felt my nipples tighten. He began washing my back vigorously. "Hey, take it easy," I said, laughing.
He laughed too. A tense laugh. "This is kind of surprising," he said.
"What is?"
"That you asked me in here."
"I needed a washcloth," I said.
"Doesn't it bother you to have me here looking at you?"
"A little. But that's no reason why you shouldn't. You like to, don't you?"
"Uh huh, it's different. I mean, I've never been with a girl taking a bath before."
"Haven't you ever seen a girl before then... undressed like this, I mean?"
"No... "
"But you like to look at me?"
"I said I did. Do you?"
"Huh?"
"Like to have me look at you?"
"Mmm hmn. It makes me feel kind of warm and nice. How does it make you feel?"
"I don't know. Just different... "
"I do feel kind of funny about it though."
"Me looking at you?"
"Yes, but I don't mind it. It just feels strange. I've never been with a boy undressed either."
"You haven't?"
"No."
"Why with me then?"
"I don't know. I just felt like it I guess. I needed the washcloth too, remember? Do you think my back is done now?"
"It looks like it is. Should I wash you any place else?"
"I don't know... where?"
He nodded at my breasts. "There... if you want me to."
"We could try it I suppose."
"Should I start then?"
"All right... "
He dipped the washcloth into the water and soaped it. I turned slightly to face him. I could see his hand shaking. I felt light-headed. The washcloth touched one of my breasts and slid over the nipple. He rubbed the cloth against me gently. My eyes slowly shut. I felt myself drifting off...
"I don't really need the washcloth, do I," he said, almost to himself. I heard it splash into the water. Then I felt his soapy hand caress my breasts eagerly, his fingertips playing over my nipples. I kept my eyes shut. He kept rubbing me. I could hear his breathing. Mine. I groaned as I reached a peak. He kept fondling me.
I opened my eyes. "I guess I should get out now," I said. "Just a minute, I'll rinse off first." I slipped away from him and slid down deeper into the tub. So far he had only seen, had only touched, my breasts. My vagina ached as I rose up out of the tub. The water ran in rivulets down my body. My pussy was now but a foot from his face.
I watched him staring at me, eyes intent. I took the towel from him and dried my face. I felt his hand, cool on my inner thigh, then firm against my mound. He kissed me. He stroked my pussy lips. I closed my eyes tight. I felt I couldn't breathe. I'd never dreamed it could feel like this. The excitement was almost too much. He drew me toward him and I stepped out of the tub. We started down the hall toward his bedroom. I didn't bother to dry myself. He kept one hand between my thighs, his other arm around me. The water dripped onto the hall floor as we moved along, but I didn't care. I was burning with need.
We sat on the edge of his bed, kissing, licking each other's tongues. Then we lay back, our heads on his pillow. He kept rubbing my pussy. Then he took my hand and pressed it against the bulge in his trousers. I felt the thick hardness of his cock pushing out against the thin material. I gripped it and instinctively tried to stroke it.
"Can you get the zipper?" I heard him say.
"I think so," I said. I released my grip and groped for the tab. I could hear the quick pounding of my heart. I pulled the zipper down slowly and reached in between the open threads. My fingers touched the hard warmth of his penis. I was startled at how big it was. For an instant I felt distant from him, as if it were all happening to someone else. I'd never touched a man's cock like this before. I explored the length of it-curiously, excitedly.
"Do you like to hold me there?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Better than the other? Than me touching you?"
"I don't know about that," I said. "But I never touched a boy there bare before."
"Didn't you ever have a boy touch you?"
I hesitated. "Once," I said. "In high school. But it didn't last long. We were in a car after a dance. He didn't see me there either... like you did."
He didn't say anything. He kissed me. His fingers were rubbing harder against my pussy now. Deeper. I pushed up to meet them. I felt I was hanging on the edge of a cliff. His hand moved to my breasts. I rubbed my thumb against the tip of his penis and I felt his whole body shudder. He put his hand back on my cunt and I spread my thighs. I enjoyed having his fingers stroke me.
"Are we going to do anything else?" he asked. He kept rubbing. "The rest of it?"
"I don't know... J never... have you?"
"No... " I didn't know if he was telling the truth, but it didn't make any difference. All that mattered was that it was going to happen. I wondered if it would hurt. I let go of his cock and rolled onto my back.
"Now?" he asked.
I nodded. I clutched the bedspread with my fingers. He moved over me and knelt between my thighs. I could see the huge thickness of his penis looming above me. I didn't know how it would ever fit inside me. Then I felt it pushing against the slick lips of my vagina. I felt it slide between them easily at first. Thick. Very hard. And smooth. Suddenly he stopped as if he couldn't go any further. I spread my thighs more to try to help him. He started pushing in again. I felt something inside me stretching, breaking. It hurt, but not much. He pushed in deeper, past the broken barrier. I pushed back against him, thrilling to the sensation of his skin rubbing against mine, the feel of him, the hard touch of him. I felt I was on a mountain again. Climbing... bursting... "Oh, Dave... Dave." I felt myself coming, felt him coming too. A last hard thrust. Dave exploding into me. His wetness spilling out, warm inside me. He fell forward against my breasts, breathing heavily. I felt myself still climbing... floating...
CHAPTER THREE
It had lasted only a few brief minutes. But the delicious warm feeling seemed to go on and on. Dave looked beautiful lying there next to me, hair tousled, face flushed, a smile playing across his lips.
I nudged his arm and spoke to him. "Dave?"
"Huh?" He blinked. His eyes looked dreamy, as if he'd been sleeping.
"That was wonderful, wasn't it," I said.
"Uh huh."
"You aren't mad at me, are you?"
"No, why should I be?"
"No reason. I just wondered. You act so quiet."
"I don't mean to. I was just resting."
I rubbed my hand through his thick black hair. I was tempted to say something about all the times I'd seen him without any clothes on in his room. And about how I knew he'd seen me naked too. But I didn't. I was afraid it might embarrass him or make him angry. Besides, that had been nothing compared to this. It had only led up to it. I started to feel the strange aching sensations running all through me again as he placed his hand on my thigh.
"Can we do it again?" I asked.
"Not now," he said.
"Why not?"
"Just because... I don't think I could again yet. You have to wait awhile afterwards-a man."
"Oh... " I said. "I didn't know that." I paused. "When can we then?"
"Later... in an hour maybe. I'm hot sure."
"Will you want to then?"
"Yes... "
We lay on Dave's bed for a long time. He fell asleep. I began to feel funny lying there naked. Finally I went back to my own bedroom and put on a short summer skirt and a sheer blouse. In the mirror I could see my pink nipples pushing out against the almost transparent blouse. I started thinking again about how good it had all been. I brushed my hair and put on fresh lipstick. Then I heard Dave coming down the hall.
"Hi... " he said almost shyly as he came into my room. "I wondered where you'd gone."
"I got kind of chilly lying there with nothing on," I said. "Anyway you fell asleep."
"I know," he said. "I didn't mean to. I just dozed off."
"That's all right," I said. I put down the lipstick tube and dabbed my lips with a Kleenex. I turned to him. I could see him staring at the pinkness of my nipples through the blouse. He came toward me and kissed me. I felt his hands on my ribs, then on my breasts. His fingers moved against my nipples. He pushed me back across the bed. Together we pulled back my skirt.
The second time it lasted longer and was even better. The walls of my pussy were drier now, and the abrasive rubbing of Dave's cock sent shivers all through me. We kept pushing against each other. I gripped his back with my legs. His muscles were strong and firm and his lips felt cool against mine. I came once... twice, while he kept thrusting against me. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and heard myself squeal a little as I came again. I sensed he'd be coming in a moment too and this spurred me on. Beyond the clouds, beyond the stars I rode. Everything between my thighs was heat. Violent, boiling, exploding.
The spasms racked my belly, the joy of physical feeling spreading all through me, exquisite and intense. I felt Dave's prick swell, then burst, the warm jets spurting into me. Then: dying fireworks falling, becoming faint. I felt relaxed, content, warm. I felt his body still pressing against mine.
Each night I enjoyed it even more than the night before. It was probably the newness, the freshness that made it so good. Sometimes we made love in Dave's room, sometimes in mine. He found a key that would open the door between them, and often, after the others had gone to bed, we would sleep then together until almost dawn. But the morning would find us both properly in our own beds with the door locked between.
Sometimes, as on that first night, we were left at home alone. I liked it better with the others gone. We didn't have to whisper or to tiptoe between our rooms. Instead we could laugh and dance and take showers and baths. I can remember it: dancing naked in the darkness with Dave's cock pushing between my thighs; the excitement, the thrill of it, the warm touch of his body against mine. I couldn't imagine myself ever being happier. We never went out on dates together though. It wasn't necessary. We had each other in our rooms. And we didn't want his mother or father to guess. We paid almost no attention to one another when the others were around.
But how different it was when we were alone. Sometimes we lay on Dave's bed for hours, touching and kissing each other. I loved to have him take my nipples into his mouth and suck them. I loved to press my fingertips against the smooth shaft of his cock, to watch it rise and feel it harden in my hand. It seemed almost magical that something so innocent-looking and small could so quickly swell to such a long, thick hardness.
I loved to stroke its length. Sometimes I even kissed him there lightly. The soft-hard tip. It wasn't anything we planned. It just happened. Like him kissing my pussy lips. And pressing between them with his tongue. But most of all I loved the feeling of his cock going into me. Slowly at first, my pussy slipping open to let him enter, spreading for him, then taking him, clinging to him, feeling him deep inside me, the pace of our thrusts increasing...
I won't forget the night it all ended. We were alone. Dave's mother and sister had gone to a recital at his sister's school. His father was in Philadelphia. We'd just finished taking a shower together and were lying naked on Dave's bed. He kissed me, then moved over me. I reached out to help him find me, his prick smooth and hard. He slipped it into me, then , began the first delicious strokes. My eyes were closed. I loved the thought of what we were doing. I felt I loved Dave and I never wanted to be anywhere without him. The almost unbearably thrilling shiver began to go all through me. I felt myself start to surge. I let my eyes slide open and smiled happily up at him. Then it happened. I suddenly felt sick. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his father standing in the doorway, watching us. I stopped moving. Dave must have seen the shocked look on my face. He glanced in the same direction. I heard his startled grunt, felt his body freeze. He drew awkwardly way from me.
His father started toward us. A big man. His face red and swollen. "You son of a bitch... you whore!" His eyes flashed anger. A big vein stood out on his forehead. He stopped in front of us. I felt sick, miserable, very naked. I tried to cover myself with the bedspread. I wished I were dead. "... hell of a disgusting thing to come home to... the boy and the maid. Get dressed, goddamn you... and you, you slut, get out on the streets where you belong"... " I was humiliated. Terrified. I clamped my eyes shut. I felt the tears begin to come. Then I heard Dave's father stomp out of the room, his footsteps loud and heavy down the stairs.
Dave got out of bed and gathered up his clothes. He started dressing. I waited for him to speak. But he didn't say anything. He didn't even look at me.
I got up too and moved slowly toward my room. I stopped and glanced back. "What'll we do...?" I asked. He didn't answer. He was pulling up his pants and he looked frightened. I went into my room and pulled the door behind me. I turned away from my image in the mirror and I fell onto my bed crying.
I packed my things. I'd stopped crying but my eyes were swollen and wet. I could feel my body trembling. I didn't know where I'd go but I wanted to get away as soon as I could. I didn't want to be there when Dave's mother came home. A few minutes earlier I'd heard his father call him. Then the sound of Dave's footsteps moving reluctantly down the stairway. The voice of his father again. Harsh cold angry.
I heard Mr. Van Huesen coming up the stairs again. I could tell who it was by the steady heavy tread. I kept packing nervously. Everything swirled. I couldn't breathe. I heard him reach the top step, then start down the hall. His footsteps stopped at my door.
His voice was surprisingly quiet, pleasant. What he said startled me. "I'm sorry about David. These boys, you know, sometimes they do things... get carried away... "
I looked up at him confused. An odd half-smile crossed his face. "We've tried to raise David properly," he said, "but I guess we've failed." He took a step toward me. "But boys, you know, sometimes they don't know how to treat a girl correctly." His eyes grew large. "That's a pretty robe you're wearing."
I felt myself cringe.
But then suddenly he backed away and sat down in the chair next to my bed. He crossed his legs. "Hope you don't mind if I smoke," he said. "Packing, huh? There's no need to really. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I'm sorry. It all just surprised me so. I do hope you'll stay on here. Think it over anyway. I'm sure everything will be all right... "
He kept smoking. His manner was impersonal but courteous. He seemed almost fatherly. I decided I'd been wrong about him. Leafing through one of my schoolbooks, he commented on something he disagreed with in the text. I'd been fussing with some things on my dresser but the tone of his voice relaxed me and I sat down on the bed. He talked about my schoolwork as if he were a professor. After twenty minutes or so he got up and started out of the room. "I'm really sorry about David," he said. "He probably just got carried away... so young and all. I do hope you'll forgive him, stay on with us. Mrs. Van Huesen says you've been doing fine work."
I lay on my bed thinking for a long time. I wondered how he got the idea it was all Dave's fault. Maybe Dave had defended me, explained to his father in a way that had made it seem he'd been the initiator. I felt a bit guilty letting Mr. Van Huesen think that.
I heard Dave's mother and sister come in. Muffled voices, except his sister's. She was complaining loudly about something. She came up to bed. I listened for Dave's footsteps on the stairs.
Anyway, I didn't have to leave tonight without anywhere to go. Maybe, as Mr. Van Huesen had suggested, I wouldn't have to leave at all. I'd think about it more in the morning. If I stayed on, maybe it would be the same with Dave.
I lay awake for a long time. Then I heard Dave come upstairs. The light clicked on in his room. I waited for him to come to the door, but he didn't. I heard him get into bed. I was tempted to whisper over to him but didn't. I'd wait until morning. I stretched out and tried not to think about anything.
Much later I woke to the touch of Dave's hand against my breast. I turned to him in the darkness. "Shhh... " he said. We kissed, his lips pressing cool against mine. Only it wasn't Dave-I knew as soon as he kissed me. I started to speak when Dave's father put his hand lightly over my mouth. "Quietly... " he whispered. "Everything quietly."
"But I-" He pressed his mouth against mine and pushed his tongue between my lips as he felt my breast. My nipples had remained taut even after I realized it wasn't Dave. I struggled noiselessly beneath him. His hand moved cool between my thighs. His fingers spread the folds of my pussy gently, then probed and stroked. I kept struggling feebly.
He moved his body over me though I tried to push him off. Then I felt the hardness of his cock against my cunt lips. I beat at his chest with clenched fists, but I couldn't control the movement of my thighs and I found myself letting them separate to help him enter. His penis pushed in hard and smooth. The rubbing of his strange new skin on mine thrilled me. I wanted him in me deep, all the way. I knew that it was an awful thing to want him, to help him, but I couldn't help myself. The excitement and the confusion of it all pushed everything else from my mind. His kisses were tender, loving; and the touch of his hand delighted me. The smooth, practiced thrusts of his body made Dave's urgent movements seem almost clumsy in comparison. There were so many small things he did that Dave never had: kissing my breasts while he simultaneously thrust into me, teeth grazing my nipples pressing and stroking the swollen bud at the top of my slit at the same time his penis moved in and out between the moist lips below. His hands and mouth were all over me. I felt myself coming quickly, and before it was even over, the surging feeling started again. My orgasms seemed to last forever as I thrilled to the deep, rhythmic strokes of his cock. And when it seemed that he was about to come too, he'd stop for a moment and let it all quiet down. Then start in again.
He brought me to a peak time after time but kept holding himself back. I thought it would never end. I didn't want it to end but I couldn't stand to have it go on any longer either. I wanted, needed the sensation of him bursting inside me. Now...
The pace of his strokes suddenly grew more rapid. His cock seemed to push even deeper into me as I clawed at his back.
"Ready?" he whispered.
"Yes."
Now, then?"
"Yes, now now... " I whispered loudly. "Fuck me." Then came the final thrust, his warm come spilling into me. I felt myself explode as he did, shatter into a million pieces, scatter to the stars, come back to slowly reassemble, his dying strokes so tender in me, gentle nibbling kisses covering my body; his face, his mouth buried against my breasts...
He left my bed a few minutes later. "You're sweet," he said. "Nice." He patted my cheek, traced a finger across my upper lip. "We'll do this again," he said. He clasped my hand for a moment, then released it and walked quietly from the room.
The harsh dawn light crept across my bed waking me. I shielded my eyes with my hand. The house was quiet and seemed empty. It must have been a dream I told myself in the moments after I woke. I couldn't have done anything like that. The two of them in the same night. But as full consciousness settled in I knew it had been no dream. It had happened just a few hours ago, here on my bed. I hadn't really tried to fight him off. I had enjoyed it. His mouth, his fingertips, the hardness of his cock...
I felt cheap. I could have stopped it. I could have screamed. I could have fought him off, I knew. But I hadn't. There could, be no going back to Dave now. And I couldn't let it happen again with his father. It had been strange and new and exciting, but in the cold of dawn I knew I had to leave. Now. Before the others were up. That was the only way to avoid the awkwardness, the embarrassment, the knowing eyes of Mrs. Van Huesen. I finished packing my suitcase and getting together my things.
I walked quietly down the stairs, went out the door and closed it behind me. I felt wistful for a moment as I thought of Dave still sleeping in the room above. Then lonesome. I hurried down the front sidewalk. I could hear my heels clicking against the pavement. Then suddenly it didn't matter that I was leaving. It was all behind me. Everything else was ahead. My loneliness vanished in the cool fresh air of the new day. I felt my nipples spike out against my bra. My pussy ached delightfully as my thighs rubbed together. I walked on.
CHAPTER FOUR
I checked into a cheap-looking downtown hotel called The Drake. The room clerk winked as he handed me the key. There was no bellhop and no elevator. My room was on the third floor and was drably furnished but clean. Out the window I could see some office buildings and rubbish heaped up in the alley.
I was tired from the long walk downtown. There hadn't been any busses running, probably because it was so early on a Sunday. My legs ached and my arms were weak from carrying the suitcase. I flopped on the bed without undressing.
Later that morning I went downstairs and asked the room clerk if they needed any maids at the hotel. I'd had experience in housekeeping, I said. I needed money badly-I had only $17.32.
He looked me over closely. "In this place?" he said laughing. "Are you kidding? Two old ladies come in to take care of all that. We don't rent many rooms. But I'll tell you, there's one place-a big hotel just three blocks from here. It's a fancy place. Expensive. They're always looking for help. I could call if you want-"
"No thanks," I said. "I'll just walk over."
The Knickerbocker was a tall brick building that took up almost half a block. A long blue canopy stretched out in front of the big revolving door. Taxis were parked bumper to bumper in front. I liked the noise and excitement of the cars honking and of the people talking and milling about.
It was easier to get a job than I'd expected. The head housekeeper, Miss Milburne, hired me and gave me the job of cleaning the west wing of the fifth floor every day. Including the General's Suite. They called it that because MacArthur or somebody had stayed there once. Miss Milburne explained that the girl who took care of the east wing would help me whenever too many of my guests checked out at once. "I'm sure you'll get on well here," she said, looking over rimless glasses. Her face was puffy and orange from too much rouge and powder. "Keeping the Knickerbocker neat and clean can be very demanding. But you'll find that it's rewarding too." She picked up her pencil and looked down at her pad of paper to signal that the interview was over.
It all went well the first few weeks. One of the other maids, a girl named Julie, instructed me on how to make up a room properly. I was surprised at how easy it was after I became familiar with the routine. I kept my room at the Drake when the room clerk there arranged a special weekly rate for me. It was cheaper than any of the rooms advertised in the paper. It was strange working at one hotel and living at another. I sometimes found myself almost unconsciously inspecting my own room to see how well it had been cleaned. Of course the standards at the Knickerbocker were much higher.
I had almost nothing to do with men at first. My new job, plus going to school afternoons and some evenings, kept me too tired to care about anything but sleep when the day was over. Occasionally guests at the Knickerbocker approached me but I brushed them off. I was afraid that if I got involved, Miss Milburne would hear about it and that would be the end of my job. Besides, since that night when I'd let both Dave and his father fuck me, I'd worried that maybe I was oversexed. I kept clear of men almost as a way of testing myself.
For a while it didn't bother me. But as the days went on, I found myself thinking more about how it had been. Sometimes I missed Dave terribly. I daydreamed for hours, thinking how good it had been, having his mouth against my breasts, the smooth hardness of his cock pushing up into me. Sometimes as I lay in bed thinking about it, I found my fingers moving to my pussy lips. I'd bring myself to a climax quickly, but it always seemed so incomplete. I needed more-to be kissed, to be fondled, to have a man spread apart the lips of my cunt with his prick and push in deep. Yet, I said no every time a man asked to take me out, need building inside me.
They had what I thought was a strange system at the Knickerbocker. Maids were to get the sheets from the rooms as early in the morning as possible so that they could be sent downstairs to the hotel laundry. It had something to do with being able to get them back in time for the afternoon checkouts. It was hard to believe that a high-class place like the Knickerbocker could be so short of sheets. It was embarrassing to knock at the doors before nine in the morning saying, "May I have your sheets if you're up please?" Most guests just opened their doors and stood quietly aside while I stripped the beds. But others got angry and refused to let me in. Of course, I never knocked when there was a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the door. But you couldn't always depend on the guests to think of putting a sign out.
It was the part of my job I disliked most. I hated it when guests got angry, especially the men. And there was nothing I could say in reply that really made sense.
One morning about 8:30 I started on my rounds. I knocked softly at the third door down from the elevator. "May I have your sheets if you're up, please?" I asked.
"Yes, certainly... come in." The voice was deep, male.
I crossed the room to the beds. I glimpsed a man in the bathroom shaving as I passed. "I won't be checking out for about twenty minutes," I heard him say. "But you can go ahead with the room if you want. I'm just about packed."
Only one of the twin beds had been slept in. While unmaking the beds, I glanced about. The room was almost as clean as when I'd left it yesterday. A suit coat hung over the chair at the desk. A pot of coffee and two cups sat on a tray. There was a suitcase and a wardrobe of women's clothes. Otherwise everything was very tidy. I decided I might as well clean now as he'd suggested. It'd take only a few minutes.
Walking back to my cart in the hall to get fresh sheets, I almost bumped into him coming out of the bathroom. He was good-looking, about thirty. He smiled pleasantly as our arms brushed. "It's a bit narrow, isn't it?" he laughed.
I came back with the sheets. He'd opened the suitcase and was putting on a fresh white shirt. "Nice morning... " he said, glancing at the window where the sun streamed in.
"Yes," I said, "beautiful for October." I started making the bed. In the mirror I could see him buttoning the shirt.
"Care for some coffee?" he asked. He tucked the shirt into his pants.
"I guess not," I said. "I have to keep on with my work."
He put on a tie. "You've got time to join me in a quick cup before I check out, haven't you? It'll just go to waste if you don't... "
I glanced up. I liked his easy smile. "Well maybe... " I said. "Just a spot."
"Good," he said. "Cream?"
"Just a little... no sugar."
"Like it strong, huh?" He handed me the coffee.
"Thank you," I said. We stood facing each other. He seemed very tall. I sipped my coffee. "It's good," I said.
He sat down. He gestured toward the chair next to his. "Why not relax a minute... sit down. My name is Craig Evans."
"I'm Nancy," I said. I sat down and crossed my legs. I noticed that the door to the room, which I was sitting directly in front of, was open.
He must have noticed my concern. "I'll fix that," he said. He stepped to the door and pulled it shut.
"It's just that I was worried about the housekeeper finding me drinking coffee instead of working," I explained.
He laughed. "They must be slavedrivers here."
"Not really. We're just not supposed to sit about in the guests' rooms."
"No fraternizing, huh?"
"Something like that."
He puffed at his cigarette and looked out the window. He said something again about what a beautiful day it was and how he hated to see the nice weather ending. He asked me if I wanted more coffee and I nodded. He poured the last of the pot into my cup. I kept wondering if he was just being polite. His manner was so disarming. I thought again about the wardrobe of women's dresses.
"You have nice legs," he said suddenly. He said it matter-of-factly. His expression didn't change.
I blushed and felt my knees automatically press together. A light tingling sensation passed quickly through me.
"I hope you don't mind my saying that," he continued.
"No... not really," I said.
"Those uniforms though, they don't do much for a girl, do they?"
I looked down at the plain blue, rather coarse material of my dress. I smiled a little. "I guess they are kind of sacky," I said.
"You'd think a splashy place like this would dress its girls in something modern... something that would show them off more," he said and laughed again. "You're probably wondering why I keep talking about your legs and uniform and all. I'm in the clothing business-ladies' mostly. My fancy title is women's apparel representative. Boiled down that just means salesman. It's a good job but tiring... the travel and all."
I looked up at the rack of dresses. "Then those are- "My sample rack. All the new styles. Hey, I'll bet you were wondering when the other woman was going to come in." We both laughed.
"Say, I've got something you'll be interested in," he said. He stepped over and unzipped the plastic wardrobe case. "You wear a ten?"
"No, twelve... small twelve." He lifted a dress from a hanger. A pink one with lacy white trim. "A ten would be better for you in these new styles," he said, holding the dress in front of me. He took my shoulder lightly and turned me to face the mirror. "Like it?" he asked.
"It's beautiful," I said. "The color is lovely. The sequins sparkle so." The skirt looked short; it would probably be tight around the hips.
"It's the very latest thing," he said.
"I'll bet it's expensive."
"Only $44.95. Considering what you pay these days, I think it's worth that, don't you?"
"If a person can afford it."
"Well, every woman wants one extra-special dress, doesn't she?"
I nodded, still admiring the dress. I could see myself walking along the street in it.
"Want to try it on?"
"Now? Here?"
"Sure. You can change in the bathroom. It should fit perfectly."
"I don't know. I have to be getting back to work." My heart began to race. Sweat beaded my palms and under my arms.
"It'll just take a minute. I'd love to see that dress on someone... on you. All right?"
"Yes, I guess so. If you'd really like me to... "
CHAPTER FIVE
I shut the bathroom door behind me, then took off my uniform and carefully pulled the new pink dress over my head. It was a tight squeeze. I should have a twelve, I thought while zipping up the back. I was surprised at how closely it hugged my breasts. My nipples poked out against the clinging satiny material. The skirt was short and so narrow through the hips that I didn't see how I'd ever be able to sit down.
I came back into the bedroom.
"Beautiful... " Craig said. "It's absolutely perfect on you. Turn around so I can see the back." He made a small turning motion with his hand.
I swirled around rapidly. The skirt flared up over my panties.
"Once more... " he said. "Slower. There, that's better. Say, you should be a fashion model-a girl with a figure like yours."
"You really think so?" I said. I knew I was blushing. But I was flattered too. I began to feel very warm inside.
"Certainly... " he said. "But I wouldn't want to mislead you as to anything I could do. I'm not in that end of the business. I just try to get the stores to stock what we manufacture. I wish I had a photo of you wearing that, though. Bet I could double my orders."
"Don't you think it's a bit tight on me though?"
"Not at all. A dress should be designed to show off a woman's body, not to hide it, don't you think?"
"I guess so. But I really better change back to my uniform now. The housekeeper will throw a fit if I'm not down with the sheets soon."
"Okay," he said. "I don't want you to get in trouble on your job."
I hesitated, then started back toward the bathroom. I was puzzled. I'd been sure when I put on the dress that he'd find all sorts of adjustments to make. But he hadn't touched me. He hadn't even come close to me. I didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. I hated to take the dress off. I wished I could just walk out of here and wear it to a gay party somewhere. Champagne... Music... I'd put up my hair and wear earrings. And a white orchid maybe... I reached behind my back to pull down the zipper.
The zipper stuck halfway down.
I tugged. Again. Nothing happened. I turned my back to the mirror, but I couldn't see anything. I tried pulling the zipper again but couldn't budge it. "Craig... " I called. "I can't get the dress off. The zipper's stuck."
He came into the bathroom. "We'll fix that," he said and turned me so that my back was toward him. I felt him yank down hard. Once. Twice. Harder. "I can't seem to get it," he said. He tried pulling slowly. Then tried working the zipper from side to side. He shook his head. "I just can't do a damn thing with it," he said.
"What'll we do?" I asked. "I've got to get my uniform back on."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"I didn't mean it that way. It's not your fault."
"Maybe you could get it off over your head without unzipping it."
"It's too tight I think... around my hips and all. I'll try though. I've got to do something."
"Want me to help?"
"All right. I'm afraid I'd rip it if I tried by myself. I feel so silly."
"Go ahead, just start lifting slowly. Don't worry about it. If it tears, it tears."
I pulled the skirt up over my thighs. I felt my slip coming up with it. I felt almost naked with nothing between his eyes and my pussy except my panties. The dress went over my hips easily enough but we had trouble getting the narrow waist past my breasts.
"This is one time you should wish you weren't built so well," Craig laughed as we tried to stretch the waistline. My breasts were being crushed. I felt the pressure of his hand against them as we tried to ease the dress over. Tingling shivers shot all through me.
"That does it," he said as we finally got the dress over my breasts. "Now just over your head and we're okay."
I stood in my slip in front of him. The material was flimsy and I knew he could see through it.
"Hey, I think I like you better this way," he said. "I mean I like the dress and all, but I'd rather look at you."
"I don't really show through that much, do I?"
"Well, pretty much."
I swung around to look at myself in the mirror. The shadowy blond triangle was easily visible through my slip and panties. "I guess you're right," I said.
"You don't mind my looking at you?"
"No."
He took my hand, then drew me to him gently and kissed me. I liked the fresh taste of his mouth. He took a step back. "You're quite a girl," he said.
"Why?"
"I don't know. You're nice to look at for one thing."
"It was your dress."
"I don't mean the dress. I mean now... like this."
"If I'd known this was going to happen when I came to work this morning, I'd have worn a different slip."
"Why?"
"Look at it. It's such an old one. I'm embarrassed having you look at me in it after wearing that lovely dress."
"Why don't you take it off then?"
"Now?"
"Sure."
"But I'd just have on my bra and panties then. They don't cover much."
"I wouldn't mind that."
"I'll bet you don't think I really would."
"No... "
"Dare me then," I said impulsively.
"I dare you."
"All right, here goes," I said. I pulled the slip up quickly over my head and let it drop on the floor. I felt strange standing there in front of him like that. Excited.
He held me at arm's length and looked approvingly at my breasts, my flat stomach, the outline of my slit beneath my panties. He unhooked my bra. He pulled the straps down over my arms. He pressed his lips to one of my nipples. His hands moved to my thighs... my pussy. Beneath the hem of my panties. His fingertips stroked my cunt lips gently. I thrilled to the light pressure of his touch. "Mmm, that's nice," I said and kissed him again, letting my tongue play against his. He backed me through the bathroom door, then across the room to the bed. I was entranced, thrilled by the nearness of him. The touch of him. I wanted to feel his cock inside me.
We fell onto the bed. He placed my hand on the hard bulge in his trousers. I opened his zipper and grasped the hard warmth of his penis. I began to stroke it, lightly at first, then harder. I cupped his balls in my hand and rubbed them for a moment, then slid my hand along the thick shaft of his cock to the softer tip. It was sticky. I rubbed my thumb over the end of it.
He eased my panties down over my hips. I raised myself to help. The panties slipped off over my ankles. I felt the lips of my pussy separate as he pushed his cock between them. It was delightful, wonderful-his cock sliding all the way into me. Then out. Then in again. Faster. I pushed back against him. His prick seemed to get harder with each stroke. I couldn't get enough of him. I loved the roughness, the urgent pace of his thrusts. I felt delirious with excitement. Wild. I didn't care about anything except the hard rubbing of his cock deep in my pussy. I felt full of him. I felt hot. Then cold. Then hot again. I was sure I would black out before it ended. I was a billion miles away, burning up, bursting. Holding back for a moment. Then coming violently just as his liquid warmth exploded into me. We kept driving against each other until he softened. I clung to him. I felt the warm sweat of his body mix with mine. I loved the touch of him, the gentle pressure of his skin against my body.
"That was nice," I said.
"Yes... the best," he said.
"I didn't expect it," I said. "I wonder... if it hadn't been for the zipper getting stuck, would it have happened anyway?"
"I don't know. Probably."
"I mean, were you thinking about it?"
"I could hardly help that, could I?"
"But did you plan it from the start?"
"No. I thought you were nice to look at and all. But didn't figure on anything like this."
"I'm glad about that."
"What?"
"That you didn't plan it or anything. That it just happened. It makes it nicer."
"I really wanted to see you in the dress."
"I know," I said. "It got me all excited when you did." I snuggled my head in against his shoulder. I stroked his now small penis with my fingertips. I rubbed the soft firmness of his balls. "You'll be leaving now, won't you," I said.
"On the 10:30 plane."
"Will you be back?"
"In March, when the spring fashions come out."
"That's a long time."
"Uh huh... "
I glanced at my watch. "It's late," I said. "I have to get back to work." I hurriedly slipped on my bra and panties.
When I came back from the bathroom after changing, he was putting on his suit coat. "I have to get going too, catch my plane." He hung the pink dress back in the wardrobe. "I'll have the bellhop bring this down while I'm checking out," he said. "I guess I'll say goodbye. Maybe we'll see each other again in the spring." I nodded. He placed his hand on my shoulder for an instant before picking up his suitcase. Then he started toward the door. I expected him to glance back but he didn't. I felt empty when I went back to cleaning the room. Empty and alone.
I can't say that I really missed Craig as a person in the days that followed. I'd liked him immediately and he'd stirred up feelings deep inside me. But we'd been together less than an hour-for only a moment it seemed. His image faded quickly. By the following day I couldn't quite remember what he'd looked like, couldn't recall even the sound of his voice. But the physical feeling, the need remained. Each morning when I went into Room 503 to clean it, the excitement started up again. I went over each detail in my imagination-sitting next to him drinking coffee, putting on the lovely pink dress, struggling to get it off. Standing in front of him in my bra and panties. Feeling his lips against my breasts, his hand on my pussy, his cock pushing into me, my cunt stretching to take all of him, pushing back against him to the violent, urgent climax.
It made me hunger for him to think about it. Not for him though, really. Rather only for the feel, the touch, the closeness of a man...
CHAPTER SIX
I sat alone in my room, restless. The air seemed stale and the walls pressed in. I put on a jacket and went out into the cold November night. Neon blinked everywhere along the streets. I walked rapidly at first, then slowly. I didn't know where I was going; I only knew that I had to get away from the emptiness of my room. I sat down on a bench at the edge of a small park.
I smoked a cigarette and counted the cars going by, the people in them. I knew I looked too young to try to get in the bright-lit bar across the street alone, but I watched the neon blinking on and off. And watched the couples going in and out-laughing, talking, sometimes singing. I felt distant and I wished that I was a part of it. I felt cold sitting alone.
A boy passed by the other empty benches and sat down next to me. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me. I glanced at him. He looked even younger than I was. His hair was quite long and bunched out over the collar of the old jacket he wore. I couldn't see his face very well in the darkness. He sat with his legs crossed.
He lit a cigarette. "You want to go to a movie or anything?" he blurted out, still not looking at me. His voice sounded gruff.
I hesitated before answering. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?" I said coolly. "It must be almost eleven."
"There's a late one on at the Tower," he said. "We could get in on time to see most of it. I don't have a car or anything."
"I was just sitting here," I said. "I wanted to get away from my room for a while. I didn't plan on staying out late."
"I thought maybe we could go to the show and watch it and fool around some."
His directness surprised me, but it made me feel warm all over. I imagined the two of us together in the back row, his hands roaming over me. "I don't usually go to shows with boys I don't know," I said. "A girl really shouldn't-"
"I suppose not," he said. He shrugged as if the whole thing didn't make much difference to him. He looked as if he were going to get up and walk away.
"Well, maybe I could," I said. "If you don't think it'd last so late... "
"It won't. It's just a single feature. Of Two Worlds. You haven't seen it, have you?"
"No," I lied. I'd seen it the Sunday before.
"We'd better be going then," he said. "Otherwise we'll miss it." He popped a piece of gum into his mouth.
We walked the three blocks to the theater. He didn't say much. He didn't take my hand. He just shuffled along next to me, his hands in his pockets. I asked his name. "Eddie," he said. I told him mine. He nodded indifferently, chewing his gum. I gave up trying to talk to him. I hadn't realized how chilled I was until we started walking.
He bought the tickets and we climbed high into the balcony. We sat a few rows from the back. All the seats around us were empty. I slipped off my jacket and draped it over my shoulders. A man and woman on the movie screen were talking quietly. The camera showed the woman's breasts tight against a dark dress. Eddie's arm was suddenly around my shoulder, cupping my breast. Not hesitantly-he probed with his fingers. My nipples spiked. I glanced at his face. He didn't notice. He was watching the screen intently, his hand working against my breast. He chewed gum. Noisily. I wished he'd at least kiss me before starting in right away like this.
But it was nice to have his hand on me, made me glow all over. I lay my head on his shoulder and put my hand over his, but then he took my hand and put it between his legs. He held it against the thick bulge. I didn't move my fingers. I kept hearing him chew his gum. With his other hand he kept massaging my breast. Roughly. I felt his hand move to my knee, then quickly between my thighs and under my skirt to the edge of my panties. His fingers dug beneath the elastic. He found the lips of my pussy and rubbed them with his fingers. He kissed me once. He didn't say anything. He chewed his gum, watched the movie and kept up the steady rubbing of my cunt and breasts.
He pulled his hand out from between my legs and unzipped his pants, then quickly reached back under my skirt again. I let my hand rest against the open zipper for a moment, then took his bare penis between my thumb and fingers. Until then I'd felt little excitement, only mildly pleasant sensations. But holding his smooth cock in my hand changed all that. My vagina began to ache and moisten beneath his fingers. I felt no affection for him at all, didn't care if I ever saw him again after tonight. It was only his body and mine, our hands rubbing each other's sex. My pussy, my hand seemed detached from the rest of me. I didn't think about anything; I just let myself enjoy it. By this time I had drawn his cock out of his trousers and was pumping it rapidly. He kept rubbing my cunt.
The pace of the movement of our hands against each other increased. In the dim light I could see his prick. I liked the feeling of his fingers moving deep inside my pussy. I felt myself coming. I could tell he was about to come too, and in a moment I moved from my seat to a sitting position on top of him. My back was toward him. Together we lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties. Slowly I let my naked buttocks sink down onto him. I reached between my legs, gripped his cock and guided it to the swollen lips of my cunt. I felt the big head of it push in. I still held the thick warm base just above his balls. I felt myself coming just as the hard shaft of his prick pushed up into me. I lifted myself up, then just as I began another downward thrust, I felt his come spilling out on me, some of it inside my cunt, the rest against the lips of my pussy, trickling down my thighs and into my hand.
It was over. I slipped off of him and back into my seat. The movie droned on. I got a handkerchief out of my purse and wiped the stickiness from my hand. I heard him zip up his pants. He didn't say anything to me. He just stared at the movie screen. I could hear him chewing gum.
We stayed for the rest of the show, then walked back through the park. It had rained while we were inside, a cold rain, and the streets and walks were slick. He left me at the corner, half a block from my hotel. "Be seein' ya," he said. Then he shuffled off into the night, his hands jammed deep in his pockets.
I washed my hands immediately after getting to my room. I put on my pajamas and went to bed. I got up and washed my hands again. I couldn't seem to get rid of the stickiness. I hated it on my hand, but I enjoyed recalling the evening. In my imagination my hand and cunt kept milking the long whiteness of his prick. The thick wetness kept shooting all over me. It had been so mechanical though. We'd been almost like two animals-not speaking, not loving. Just rubbing and pushing against each other. But it had been what I wanted-no empty feeling now that he was gone, no hoping that he would want to see me again, no letdown because I might never see him again. I'd felt the urge, the need, the restlessness in my body and he'd satisfied all that. I'd be ready to satisfy it like that again. With him or with someone else. It didn't matter who, but I wished I could get rid of the sticky feeling on my hand.
The next day the guilt began to settle in. I'd become a mechanism. A machine. A cunt. A hand. I thought back over everything that had happened since the night I'd accidentally noticed the spot of light coming from Dave's room. How I'd stared at his nakedness through the door, how I'd enjoyed having him watch me walk naked about my room. How I'd coaxed him to my bath. I thought about our endless nights together, ending up with my letting his father fuck me and enjoying it... Craig and the pink dress... thrilling to the feeling of his strange new penis pushing up into me. Then this. Meeting Eddie in the park. Jerking at his cock and then guiding it into my pussy just moments before his come spilled out all over me. I didn't really feel guilty about anything that had happened, only about the way it had happened. I really hadn't known any of them. No dates. No hours of conversation first. No holding hands. I'd just flopped with them.
I had to change all that now. Go out on dates like other girls. Dance. Play records. Walk proudly down the street with a boyfriend. Sometimes wear a corsage. Sweet loving tender kisses. Soft whispers in my ear.
Hank Wagner sat across from me at school in botany lab twice a week. He was a big, tow-haired fellow with a nice smile. I was always catching him staring at my breasts in the tight sweaters I wore to school. It was easy enough to get him to ask me for a date. All I had to do was wink at him a little when I saw him looking at my breasts, then walk slowly down the hall after class, waiting for him to catch up.
It was the first real date I'd had since coming to Blue River and I was excited about it. He called for me at my hotel. He was wearing a sport coat and a tie and his hair was neatly combed. We went to a movie-a double feature. During the second feature he put his arm around me. Later he held my hand. Afterwards we stopped at a nice restaurant for malts and hamburgers, then went for a ride in his car.
We parked along the drive next to the river. I let him kiss me a little but kept my lips pressed tight together. When his hand moved toward my breasts, I moved it away. He put his hand on my thigh, just above my knee. I picked it up. "Not that either," I said laughing. I pressed his hand to my face.
He was persistent. He kept kissing me and he kept trying to caress my breasts. I responded to his kisses, mouth half-open, but I kept holding off his hands. The constant kissing began to stir me. My straining nipples felt like small needles were poking into them. My pussy itched and ached with the need to be rubbed. I held his hands. I let his tongue explore the curve and length of mine. Then he pulled his hand away and placed it on my thigh. He started to move it under my skirt. At first I pushed him off, then hesitated. The hell with it, I thought. This was, after all, a real date. Let him touch me if he wanted to. I wanted it, needed it.
I let my thighs slide apart. Almost instantly his hand was on the folds of my pussy. His cool fingers explored the wet lips, the swollen bud. The heel of his hand felt good rubbing against the hairs on my mound. I pushed my tongue into his mouth, licked the smooth skin inside his upper lip. His other hand moved to the swell of my breasts.
Moments later he was fucking me. I pushed up hard to take the entire length of him. My panties, which had been hanging draped over one foot, fell to the floorboard as our thrusts became more rapid. He was bumping into the steering wheel and we slid along the seat toward my door. My orgasm was quick, explosive. I felt another coming on almost before the first subsided. It drove me crazy when he pushed his prick in against the deepest parts of me. I clung tightly to him as he suddenly burst inside me. I felt the warm, sticky spurts against the walls of my pussy, and I clung to him, savoring every moment that I could hold him inside me.
As soon as it was over he drove me home. He parked the car in the taxi stand at the front of my hotel. He asked me for another date. "Friday night?" he said. I said yes, that would be fine. But by the next morning I'd changed my mind about that. I didn't want to go out with him again. I didn't know exactly why, except that I felt that everything that could happen between us had already happened. I wanted to go out, but with someone new, someone strange.
When I told him that I wouldn't be able to make it on Friday, he asked me for a date for the following week. "Any night," he said. I said that my plans were indefinite. I tried to make my voice sound cold. He looked perplexed but took the hint. The next day I saw him walking down the halls with a girl I'd seen around school but didn't know. I didn't pay much attention to them though. I was thinking about Jeff, a tall boy with dark hair who sat across from me in history class. I'd flashed a sensuous smile at him earlier that afternoon as class had ended, and I was waiting to see the result.
I went out with Jeff three times before he screwed me. It wasn't that I wouldn't let him the first time-he just didn't try. Even on our third date at first I thought nothing would happen. But riding home I sat close to him and pressed my breasts against his arm. And rested my hand halfway up his inner thigh. He turned down a quiet narrow street then and parked the car.
His hands were clumsy as they moved over me but the swell of his penis against his trousers felt good against my fingers. Almost as soon as I pulled his zipper, he changed his position on the seat and moved over me. I felt myself rising to an orgasm even before the tip of his cock touched my pussy. I came again moments after he plunged into me. It didn't last very long but it felt wonderful. I couldn't tell exactly when he finished. I just knew that it was over when he pulled himself out of me.
Jeff had a harder time accepting it that I didn't want to go out with him again than Hank had. He kept after me for weeks. It was almost embarrassing the way he literally begged for another date. By the time he finally gave it up I'd already been out with and had been fucked by several other boys. I studied myself in the mirror one night after getting back from spending a couple of hours in the back seat of a car with a boy named Fred. Studied my face. My naked breasts with pink full nipples. The outerfolds of my pussy beneath the wisps of curly blond hair. My body curved nicely. My skin was smooth. I looked sensual. I felt sensual. The quick switching around from man to man had changed none of that. Going out with all of them had been fun. I'd enjoyed the kissing and the petting and most of all the moment when the cock pushed up into me. But then when it was over, I always felt ready for someone else, someone new.
Occasionally I went all the way with the same boy twice, but that was rare. Usually once with each of them was all I wanted, all I needed. There seemed no point in continuing with the same boy when there was always someone new I'd rather have. Getting laid became an increasingly impersonal thing for me. I knew that I was behaving almost like an animal, a bitch in heat, but that didn't bother me much. I loved to be fucked. I loved the thought of being fucked. Always by someone strange, someone new. It went on like that for many weeks. It didn't matter where with me. In a car. On a bed. Leaning up against a fence or wall on some darkened street. But every day at the Knickerbocker I cleaned the same twenty-two rooms.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The man with the grey mustache checked into the General's Suite at the end of the hall every Tuesday afternoon. On Saturday mornings he was gone again. I saw him only occasionally-carrying his briefcase down the corridor to his rooms. He was tall and slender, almost thin and he walked with long, confident strides. Though his mustache was steel grey, the rest of his hair was black. Two or three other men were always following after him as he moved rapidly down the hall to his suite. They always looked as if they were trying to catch up to him, trying to get his attention. He never seemed to be much interested in what they had to say. He appeared proud, almost arrogant.
I'm not certain what it was that attracted me to him. He was handsome-even striking, but I think that it was mostly his manner, his bearing that attracted me. It was like a school-girl crush at first. My heart thumped each time I saw him pass by in the hall. He never so much as glanced at me. I tried to form an image of him by the things I came upon in his suite while cleaning it. The living room always looked as if there'd been a party the night before: empty whiskey bottles, dirty ashtrays, half-filled glasses, newspapers, poker chips, scribbled sheets of paper with lots of figures. Not really the kinds of things I'd associate with him.
But the bedroom was always spotless, almost painfully neat. The bed usually looked as if it hadn't been slept in. By the time I arrived in the morning he'd always pulled the bedspread and blankets neatly up over the pillows and sheets. His suits hung as precisely as those on a rack in an expensive men's clothing store. The used towels in the bathroom were always hung up. He kept the door between the two rooms locked. I felt certain that none of those who always followed him down the hall were ever admitted to the room where he slept.
One night I saw his picture in the newspaper, on the front page. It jumped out at me, startled me. I read the article beneath it hungrily. The article gave his name as Richard Southland. It said that he would be arriving back in Blue River the next day to resume negotiations concerning the financing of a proposed multi-million dollar shopping center on the north side of the city. The article said that he was from New York, that he had successfully arranged major construction projects in other cities, that he was one of the most prominent men in the country in the field of retail construction and financing.
But the article said nothing at all about his personal life. It only told me that he was successful and suggested that he was probably quite wealthy. I wondered just how rich he was. I daydreamed about that the whole evening. I imagined him owning a big fancy house in New York, me going there to visit. He sat at one end of a long table in the dining room and I at the other. There were candles and fine glassware and china. A large crystal chandelier hung over the table. There was classical music in the background. Servants brought in the dinner, one course after another, with a different wine accompanying each. We didn't talk much as we ate, but sometimes he looked up at me and smiled. I was wearing the same pink dress I'd tried on in Room 503 that day with Craig, and now I had on a jewel necklace to set it off. My hair was up high on my head...
I was scared but I knew that if anything was ever going to happen between us, I'd have to be bold about it. He could pass me by in the hall forever without once noticing me. I had nothing to lose, so I'd try. I was nervous when I went to bed that night thinking about everything that might happen the next day, but I was excited too. I couldn't sleep.
At twenty minutes after eight the next morning I knocked on his door, the bedroom door. I brushed back my hair and tried to relax. My legs felt tense, rigid. No answer. I knocked again.
"Yes, what is it?" I heard him say, his voice distant, slightly irritable.
"It's the maid, sir. May I come in?"
I heard footsteps quiet across the carpet. I watched the doorknob turn. He stood tall in front of me in a dark blue robe, unsmiling. "Yes... what do you want?" he said.
"I know it's early, sir, but I'd appreciate it if I could start on your rooms. One of the other girls didn't come in today so I have to begin early... to give me time to do her rooms too." I smiled up at him as warmly as I dared, trying to make my eyes shine.
He looked down at me blankly but at least not angrily. "I suppose it would be all right," he said. "Yes, come in."
"Thank you," I said.
He stepped aside to let me enter, then closed the door. I was carrying a stack of sheets and towels. I swung my hips as I walked but not too obviously. I wondered if he could smell my perfume.
"You can begin in the other room," he said. "I've only been up a few minutes."
"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have disturbed you," I said.
"That's quite all right," he said. "It's no problem at all." His voice sounded a little friendlier. I wished I didn't have to start in the other room though. I wouldn't have much of a chance from there.
The door between the two rooms was closed but not locked. I opened it. "I'll try to hurry," I said. I made my eyelashes flutter just a bit, curved my lips in a small smile.
"Don't concern yourself about it," he said. "We all have jobs to do." He smiled back at me a little. He looked very handsome standing there in the dark robe. I thought I detected him stealing a glance at my legs but couldn't be sure. I tried to stand so that my breasts pushed out. Then I moved slowly into the other room.
There was the usual collection of bottles, glasses, and newspapers and I walked about with the wastebasket gathering it all up. I heard the hum of his electric razor, then the sound of the shower running. Minutes passed. When the sound of the water finally stopped, I waited a few minutes, then started back toward his bedroom. My timing was perfect. He came out of the bathroom just as I passed his bed. He'd put on the dark robe again. His hair was wet.
"I have to get the vacuum," I said.
He nodded as we passed each other.
I came back with the vacuum and started into the living room. He was standing in front of the dresser. I hesitated. "I saw your picture in Monday's paper," I said abruptly.
"Oh... " he said. He looked surprised. "I didn't even know it was in."
"Yes, there was an article too. All about the shopping center you're working on. It was on the front page.
"Front page, huh? Well, that's something. I wouldn't have expected that." He seemed interested now. "What else did it say?"
"I don't remember exactly. I just noticed that it was your picture. And then about the shopping center. It said there were some problems."
"Yes... " he said. He stared absently out the window for a moment, then reached for his cigarettes. "Do you smoke?"
"Yes."
"Care for one?"
"All right." I took a cigarette and he lit it for me, then one for himself. I watched him inhale deeply. I decided that now was the right time. I drew in my breath. "I think you're very handsome," I said. I tried to make my smile provocative but shy.
"Handsome? You do?" He coughed, looking a bit flustered.
"Yes," I said. I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice. "I've been seeing you in the hotel for weeks now."
"That's flattering," he said, looking me over.
"I know I really shouldn't talk like this... to an important man like you. Your eyes are kind of greenish, aren't they?"
"I'm not sure," he said. He glanced in the mirror. I could tell that I was getting to him. He rubbed down the edges of his mustache. He turned to me. "You're a funny one," he said smiling.
"Funny?"
"I mean saying all those things to me... so directly. It's unusual."
"You think I shouldn't? I won't if you don't want me to."
"Oh, I'm not objecting. I just can't get used to it. A pretty young girl puffing up my vanity." He paused. His forehead knotted up slightly. "Why?" he asked.
"Because I like your mustache," I said.
He tossed back his head and laughed. "That's funny, that's funny. My mustache is just supposed to impress clients. I never meant it to attract young girls." He took a step toward me. I knew the wall between us had crumbled. But I wasn't out for ten minutes on the bed with him, then out. I had to shift directions.
When he put his hands on my shoulders, I let my breasts push up against him for a moment, then drew back as he bent to kiss me. I feigned surprise. "I didn't mean-I didn't intend something like that," I said. "I'd better get on with cleaning the room."
"You're not serious?" he said. "You mean you'd talk to me like that not intending it to lead to anything else?"
"I just said that I thought you were very handsome and that I liked your mustache. That's all."
"But isn't that the same as saying you're attracted to me, physically?" He looked perplexed.
"Of course. Very much. But that doesn't mean I'm going to hop into bed with you."
He didn't say anything. He just stared.
"A girl just can't do anything like that," I went on modestly. "Even if she wants to."
"Then you mean you want to?"
"I didn't say that. I'm not sure really. I don't know you well enough to answer that, do I?" I felt bold, triumphant. I knew I had the upper hand.
He shrugged. "You're a strange one," he said.
"I hope you don't think badly of me," I said. "I probably shouldn't have said the things I did. They were just what I felt, that's all." I paused. "I really have to be getting on with my work," I said. I bent over to pick up a scrap of paper. I wished my uniform were cut lower so that he could see my breasts. I gave him my warmest smile as I straightened up. "If you'll excuse me now... "
I carried the vacuum into the other room, elated at my success. But when he didn't follow after me I was sure I'd carried the innocence business too far. I was tempted to turn off the vacuum and go back to him. But I held back. And waited.
He came up behind me a few minutes later. "Shut off the vacuum a minute," he said. His voice was almost commanding. I flicked the switch and turned to face him. He was dressed now, wearing a dark blue suit. The knot in his tie was small and perfect. "Will you have a drink with me this evening?" he asked. "When I get back from work?"
"I don't drink much," I said, "but it sounds nice. Yes, I'd like to. Where would we have it?"
"Here... in my room."
"All right... "
"Will you come then... about eight?"
"Yes. But what about all those other men who are usually with you?"
"They won't be along tonight," he said crisply.
"Oh, I'll be here then... at eight."
I didn't go to my classes at school after finishing work that afternoon. Instead I came back to my room and took a long bath. My breasts had been tingling all day as I thought about the evening ahead. I soaped myself with thick suds, my hand lingering over the lips of my pussy.
After my bath I lay naked on the bed for a long time, thinking about the man with the grey mustache. I wouldn't give in to him the first time, not completely anyway. I wanted it to build up to something... to mean something. I would let him touch me wherever he wanted to. Stroke me. But that would be all for tonight.
I pressed my best skirt and got out a tight-fitting blouse. I wanted my nipples to poke out, so I didn't wear a bra. I combed my hair endlessly and fussed with my lipstick until I got it just right. Just before I left I put on silky black panties.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Come in," he said, opening the door.
"I hope I'm not late," I said. I felt strange entering the room in a skirt and blouse instead of my maid's uniform.
"No, I just got back early," he said. I sensed his gaze following me as I walked across the thick carpet. "You look very nice. Sit down, sit down. Manhattan... martini?"
"Manhattan, I guess... "
He finished his drink in two long swallows and made himself another. He asked me how long I'd been working at the Knickerbocker, how old I was. He seemed interested in hearing about the subjects I was taking in college. He told me about his job and how busy it kept him. He said he'd like to take a day off sometime and just sleep around the clock. "Maybe I will tomorrow," he added smiling. He asked me if I wanted another drink.
"No, I'm fine right now," I replied. "... maybe later."
We kept talking. He drank a lot but it didn't seem to affect him. His voice and manner were very pleasant. He seemed so different from the austere man I'd seen so often walking down the corridor. Still, he was dignified. He made no move to approach me. I began to worry that he wouldn't at all after the way I'd held him off that morning. That after a few drinks he might just say that he'd enjoyed talking to me and thank me for coming and show me to the door. I uncrossed my legs and crossed them again, getting my skirt up as high as I could. I tried to make my eyes look dreamy as he talked. I smiled a lot and lounged back in the chair.
He got up to make himself another drink. Afterwards he came over to my chair and stood in front of me. I felt his fingertips run lightly through my hair. He put his hand under my chin and lifted it so that I was looking up at him. "You're a very lovely girl," he said. He gazed down at me. "Don't you think it's time for me to kiss you now?"
I didn't answer. I just kept smiling up at him. He took my hands in his and drew me up. I didn't resist. I felt the pressure of his lips against mine, the pleasant teasing scratch of his mustache. "I like the way your mustache rubs me," I said. He kissed me again and I felt his hands slide down the back of my skirt to my buttocks. He cupped them lightly and pulled my thighs to his. I could feel his penis pushing against my belly. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to bring my pussy up high enough to rub against his hardness.
He took my hand and led me to the bed. I felt his hands gently caress my stomach, my ribs, then cup my breasts. When he kissed me again, I opened my mouth and pressed my tongue against his. I felt the excitement welling up inside me. His hand slid over my stomach to the triangle of my mound. I wished my skirt and panties weren't in the way. His hand moved to my knee now, then beneath my skirt. With tantalizing slowness his fingers crept up along my thighs, between them. It drove me crazy as he stroked my skin just above where my stockings ended. His hand felt cool while I felt I was burning up. I could hardly stand the waiting.
His hand reached the edge of my panties and moved beneath them. He brushed the wisps of hair that curled along the lips of my vagina. His fingertips separated the sticky folds and moved deep between them. My body writhed uncontrollably beneath his touch. He found my bud and stroked it. I climaxed quickly, pushing myself hard against his fingers. He let his hand slide back down my thighs, almost to my knees. I held him close.
His fingertips sought my nipples. "Just a minute," I said sitting up. I reached behind my back for the buttons. Together we pulled the blouse forward over my shoulders and peeled it off. I was naked from the waist up now. His hands moved gently over my taut pink nipples. I thrilled to the feeling of having his hands on the bare soft skin of my breasts. His eyes were blue and intense. "You're perfect," he said.
I smiled. "I just hope you don't think I'm terrible or anything," I said. "Taking off my things like that."
"How could I? You're so lovely... so fresh." He kept fondling my breasts, rubbing my nipples tenderly with the tips of his fingers. Then he pressed his lips to them... gentle... cool. I loved the feeling of his mustache brushing against me there. His mouth was open now and I felt his wet tongue, electric on my skin. He drew my nipple into his mouth. His teeth grazed over it. He sucked it. His hand moved back to my pussy and he stroked me. I reached down to pull his hand deeper into me. My fingers accidentally brushed against his cock.
"Do that again," he said. "With your hand."
"This?" I said, gripping his penis through the material of his trousers. It felt big and thick.
"Yes."
I tried to stroke him but his trousers bulged up and got in the way. He moved my hand to his zipper. I pulled down on it, reached in and rubbed him, feeling his prick grow longer and harder in my hand. I could feel the big veins bulging out along the sides. Two of his fingers were deep inside my cunt now, stroking me firmly. I wanted the rest of it now, pushing into me, deeply, all the way. He kissed my cheeks, my eyelids, my neck. I kept rubbing his cock, kept pushing up against the teasing hardness of his fingers.
He was atop me now pushing his cock hard up against my panties. He tried to pull them aside.
"I can't," I said.
"You want to, don't you?"
"Yes... you know I do."
"Why not then?" He kept pressing his cock against me.
"A girl just can't-I hardly know you-I couldn't-"
"But we've gone this far."
"We shouldn't."
"If I start, will you stop me?"
"Yes... I don't know... maybe. But what would you think of me then?"
"I'd think you were beautiful... lovely... "
"Not that I was cheap or anything like that?"
"No, of course not."
"I shouldn't."
"Would you stop me?"
"I don't know... I don't think so... if you really want to... "
He lifted back my skirt. I raised my hips as he tugged at my panties. I was already exploding just at the thought of what was going to happen. The end of his cock touched the velvet outer lips of my vagina. He pushed slowly into me and the folds of my pussy stretched and clung to him. He kissed me and he played with my naked breasts. He told me I was beautiful. I loved the sound of his voice, the touch of his mustache against my lips the warm good feeling of his cock sliding in and out of me harder faster now against my skin the walls the lips of my cunt clinging to him taking him deeper harder longer the touch of him smooth gentle his mustache scratching everywhere against me aching throbbing driving pushing the two of us loving wild beautiful handsome always with him never now the others now only him always the hardness of him almost there now both of us together hold back now he not ready quite hold wait now harder thrusting fuck me fuck me yes now he ready too now pushing spurting warm like honey cream wet there now ooh can't stand it floating now drifting sweet his kiss touch one more push over for him me too now down down sweet over but unending drifting off we forever endless now lasting always the big white house on the lawn green fresh-mowed the lake clear all over still touching kissing the sun warm skin tingling everything beautiful behind eyes shut could go on drifting floating everything all mine the stars sun grass thick warm wet length of him now against me always sand hot stinging against my back cool cool now drifting...
CHAPTER NINE
We dressed. He took me out to a fancy restaurant. Plush red leather upholstery. Music soft. Crystal chandeliers clinking. Steak, champagne, cigarettes. More champagne. Richard's smile, eyes blue, deep warm, now laughing. Cool hand clasping mine across the table.
He took me back to my hotel in a cab. "Will you have dinner with me again tomorrow night?" he asked as he left me at the door.
"Yes, I'd like to."
"Earlier this time though. Would seven be all right?"
"Yes... fine."
"I'll pick you up then."
"Here?"
"Certainly. I'll call up to your room from the lobby."
"They don't have phones in the rooms here."
"They don't? I can hardly imagine that."
"You could send a wire," I said smiling.
It struck him funny. He laughed and grasped my shoulder lightly. "You're marvelous," he said.
"I guess maybe I should just meet you in the lobby," I said.
"At seven."
"Yes... "
He kissed me goodnight. A loving kiss it seemed, brief and tender. I floated up the stairs... drifted to the window as I undressed. I didn't see the alley or the office buildings. Only the perfection of the Knickerbocker, stretching up a few blocks away. Beyond that the moonlit river glistened, waves running beneath the wind.
I didn't sleep much. I thought about the next day. And the days after that. I would wear my turquoise dinner dress, with pearls and sequins... He sits at one end of the long table, I at the other. Music plays. The butler brings us drinks. We dance on the lawn in the moonlight. The grass smells good. The lilacs. I taste salt in the air. We sail the Atlantic. Sunbathe on white decks in the warm South American January sun. Shop in all the tourist places. I buy fancy hats with wide brims. He introduces me to a Senator. We run along the beaches laughing talking gathering shells. It goes on and on. All seasons are summer. We play by day and cling to each other by night in the dimness of a thousand rooms. We sail off the end of the world and drift among the stars...
After dinner the next night we came back to Richard's suite and went into the living room. He found some classical music on the radio, then made drinks. He sat down next to me on the sofa. We clinked glasses and sipped our drinks.
"This tastes different," I said. "What is it?"
"Creme de menthe. It matches your dress."
I glanced down. "Yes, it does a little... mmm, the second swallow tastes better."
"You have to get used to it."
"Yes," I said. I took another sip and lounged back on the sofa. "It was a wonderful evening," I said.
He laughed. "It isn't quite over yet, I hope."
"No... " I said. I winked at him.
He took my glass and set it on the coffee table. Then his. He kissed me. I snuggled against him. His hand moved over my shoulder to my breasts. My dress was cut low and he easily slipped his hand beneath the neckline.
He picked up our drinks one at a time with his free hand while he tenderly stroked my breasts. We sipped from our glasses. I liked his unhurried manner. The way he made me feel that it all counted for something.
He got up to make another drink. This time when he came back he moved his hand up slowly between my thighs. I helped him take off my panties. I shuddered at the light touch of his fingertips against my bud. I unzipped his pants and rubbed his cock. His cock looked beautiful. The feeling of the whiskey flowed all through me. His balls felt heavy and warm. The music sounded romantic. As his fingers slipped deeper into me, I stroked his prick. My vagina was soft and liquid under his touch.
"Shall we go into the bedroom?" he asked.
"No, this is fine... I like it here," I said.
"On the sofa?"
"Mmm hmn... "
"There'd be more room on the bed."
"I know... but I'd rather just stay here. It's been so nice."
"All right." he said. "Shall we-?"
"Whenever you say... "
"You'll wrinkle your dress. Shouldn't we take it off?"
"Mmm hmn. It'll be more fun without it anyway."
We slipped the dress carefully over my head and laid it across the coffee table, then my slip. He unhooked my bra. I unbuckled his belt and started taking off his trousers. He seemed surprised at that. "I don't want anything between us," I said. In a moment we stood pressing against each other, naked. I reached for his penis and brought it to my pussy. Wetness meeting wetness. Hardness meeting softness. The skin along the lengths of our bodies. Our thighs. Our stomachs. My breasts pushing against his chest.
Somehow or other we ended up on the carpet instead of the sofa. The carpet was thick and soft. I felt his thick cock push quickly into me and my cunt lips clung to him. Liquid. Warm. Everything smooth. I heard the music from the radio and the far-off sound of the traffic on the street below. We were lying on the sand. Soft sand. Sand warmed by the sun. The breakers crashed against the beach and sent their spray shooting over us in tiny drops. I loved the feeling of him rubbing deep inside me. The sky was clear and blue. Bright clouds shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun. I pushed up harder to meet his thrusts. The sand felt hot on my back. The breakers roared.
We were on a puffy white cloud. Floating. Soft. I could see the ocean, the breakers, the beach far below. Large jagged rocks jutted up along the shoreline. The surf thundered down against them. I felt the thickness of his penis pushing into me. I heard the gentle sucking sounds of our bodies as we moved against each other. My pussy was wet... hot. Hotter than the sun. Everything centered there. The feeling of his prick full inside me. The touch of his smooth, swollen skin against mine. The feeling became stronger. I tried to hold back to increase its intensity, but I couldn't. I exploded. The hot feeling coursed through my body. His cock kept rubbing against me. I felt him burst inside me. His come was warm, thick, wet. We kept up the delightful urgent thrusts. Melted into each other. I clutched the cloud, the sand, the carpet...
We sat cross-legged facing each other on the carpet. We smoked cigarettes, the ashtray between us. I enjoyed the feeling of his eyes looking at the nakedness of my body. Looking at the swollen lips of my cunt. We talked for a long time. It seemed I'd known him forever, instead of just little more than a day.
CHAPTER TEN
He checked out of the Knickerbocker that Saturday but returned the following Tuesday. I hated the days in between, but the excitement of looking forward to his coming back more than made up for that.
I felt so differently toward him than I had toward the others. I wanted it to go on and on.
I'd been sitting in the lobby of the Drake for more than an hour, waiting for his call. When it finally came, he asked me if I could come right over to his rooms. His plane had been delayed, he said. He said he had some phone calls to make but that I could have a drink while I waited and that afterward we could go out to dinner and a show.
"Sounds fine," I said. Excitement pricked at my body.
Twenty minutes later I knocked on his door. He opened it, gave me a quick kiss, then excused himself to go back to the phone. As I took off my coat, he pointed out a drink he had waiting for me on the dresser, a Manhattan.
Richard looked very handsome tonight, but tired, dark under the eyes. His knuckles were white as he gripped the phone. His voice grew angry, then calm, then angry again. Finally he hung up and came over to where I was sitting on the bed. He lay back and pulled me down next to him. He ran his fingers through my hair. "Mmmm, you're just what I needed," he said. "It's been kind of a bad day."
I kissed him. "Maybe we shouldn't go out tonight," I said. "Just rest here. We could have room service bring something up later."
"You're sure you wouldn't mind?" he said. "All dressed up?"
I shook my head. "Not at all. We could just take it easy... relax... sleep. You could kiss me some."
"Sounds perfect," he said. He pressed his lips lightly against mine. My nipples rose to the touch of his hand. "It's nice to hold you again," he said. "It's been a long time."
"Three days," I said. "More. Ninety-one hours."
"You really count them?"
"Mmm hmn... and twenty-seven minutes."
He laughed. "You're a delight," he said. He kissed me again. Then he rolled onto his back and stretched out.
"Shall we sleep awhile?" I asked.
"No... just rest."
But in minutes he was asleep. His breaths came deep and even. I lay on my side watching him. I liked to look at his profile, his deep-set eyes, his strong nose, his mustache, his mouth, his chin. I felt as if he belonged to me, as if he were a part of me. I wanted to kiss him, to rub my hand against his chest. But he looked so peaceful sleeping that I just kept looking at him. My own eyes kept slipping shut. I tried to keep them open. I felt myself dozing off... saw the big white house... the lawn... the ocean waves... the sand...
Someone was shaking me. "Nancy... Nancy... " My eyes opened. I had trouble getting everything in focus. "Nancy, it's almost midnight... we've been asleep for hours."
I tried to make myself wake up. Richard's hand moved under my skirt and slipped up between my thighs, stroked the hairs at the edge of my pussy. This roused me quickly. We kissed. Our tongues touched. Electric.
We took off my dress, my slip. I unsnapped my bra and pulled off my panties. He kissed my breasts hungrily, teased a nipple with his tongue, bit it tenderly. Then his mouth was on my ribs, the smooth skin of my stomach. It tickled a little. I'd never been kissed there before. His lips moved lower, along my hips, across my thighs. He kept going around me in a circle. His mouth. His tongue. Each time the circle grew smaller. Tantalized me. I held my breath. He circled in. It drove me crazy. His lips and tongue sent shivers all through me. My pussy was creamy. It ached and throbbed. Finally his lips brushed the wisps of hair at the top of my mound. His mouth moved lower and found the opening. He pressed firm against the soft wet skin of my pussy. I felt his tongue darting against me, licking me, dipping deep into me.
I loved the touch of it. I climaxed once. Twice. Urgently. Uncontrollably. I spread my thighs and drew my knees up some so that his tongue could probe deeper into me. He kissed my bud, drew it into his mouth, chewed it, sucked it. I felt myself rising, warm, bursting We smoked cigarettes. He blew smoke rings and I tried to catch them on my fingers. I wanted another drink but didn't want him to leave me even long enough to make it. My pussy still felt hot and wet from his kisses. After finishing his cigarette he lay back and shut his eyes. I stared at the erect hardness of his penis, pushing out against his trousers. I kept puffing my cigarette until it burned my fingers, then ground it out in the ashtray.
I knelt over him, my face just above his stomach, unzipped his trousers and reached inside. His cock was hard and looked very long as I drew it out. I loved the thickness of it, the tip felt smooth and moist as I rubbed it with my thumb. I hesitated, then bent toward him and lightly kissed the hard shaft about halfway down. I could feel a swollen vein pushing against my lips. I kept moving my mouth higher along the length until I reached the bulging tip. I drew it into my mouth, pressed my lips against it and pushed my tongue in tight against the small opening.
I pressed forward and opened my mouth wider. An inch. Two inches. More. I sucked him lightly. I felt his penis grow even harder, longer in my mouth. I sucked him deeper, rubbed my tongue against him. While gently fondling his balls, I slid my mouth rapidly back and forth over the length of his cock. Suddenly he pushed up against me and said, "Enough."
"I'll finish if you don't stop."
I let his cock slip out of my mouth but kept holding it in my hand. "We don't want that to happen, do we," I said laughing. "I've got other plans for that."
I straddled him and pressed forward, my breasts mashed against his chest. We kissed. I reached back with my hand and rubbed his prick against the lips of my cunt, pressed the tip against my bud. I sat up and raised my hips, then slowly lowered myself, spearing my pussy with his cock. All the way in now, his big cock deep inside, rubbing me in places where I'd never been touched before. I lifted myself and pushed down again. I rode him wildly, excited by the abrasive hardness of his touch against my skin. The warmth flooded through me. He stroked my breasts, my nipples with his fingertips, while lunging up to meet my downward thrusts. He couldn't last much longer I knew. I kept driving down against him. I didn't want it to end but I couldn't wait to feel him spurting into me. I saw his lips drawn back tight and thin against his teeth, eyes glazed.
I felt the cream shooting into me, bathing me. I tried to make it last. I didn't want it to end. I wanted it to go on and on...
November was dreary, cheerless. Days of cold driving rain, grey, cloud-filled skies. December brought more cold and snow. But in Richard's suite at the Knickerbocker, the beautiful autumn went on. We made love. We kissed and sucked each other's sex. My nipples budded in his hand. I curled the hair on his chest between my fingers. I stroked the length of his thick beautiful cock. My cunt lips were velvet beneath his fingers. His mustache brushed my cheeks, my breasts. The drinks warmed my blood. The music, the nights played on.
His hand slid over my belly to the wetness between my thighs. I stroked his prick until it grew rock-hard. He drew me up to my knees and knelt behind me. I felt his hands on my buttocks, then the hardness of his cock pressing lightly against my cunt from behind. He pushed forward, spreading my wet pussy lips. Everything fit tight His prick rubbed hard along the sides of my vagina. I bent all the way over, raising my buttocks higher in the air while my head rested against the pillow, my face turned to the side. He pushed deeper into me with smooth even strokes, his balls slapping against my thighs. I reached back between my legs and cupped them in my hand. Squeezed them and caressed the hairy patch of skin just behind them.
I wasn't sure that I liked it this way at first. He seemed so distant from me. I couldn't kiss him, couldn't see his face, couldn't feel his warm breath against my cheek. But the hard rubbing of his cock felt even better than usual inside me. It was so snug, so tight. My pussy seemed to swell and grip him. The excitement, the sensations deep inside my pussy were stronger than any I'd ever known before. Everything was heat-wet abrasive rubbing heat. I loved the hardness, the firmness. I felt myself coming coming. I let myself go. I loved it.
His cock kept going in and out. I came again. I felt my cunt holding him.
The pace of his thrusts suddenly increased. His prick tore delightfully at my skin. I felt myself rising quickly to another climax but I knew that now he was about to come too and I held on to wait for him. I expected each pounding stroke to be his last. But he kept driving forward, pulling back, then pushing forward again. I couldn't hold back. I had to let go. The intensity of feeling was more than I could bear. I gave into the feeling, let myself explode. Just then I felt his come burst into me.
It all ended suddenly, unexpectedly. Just a few days after New Year's. He'd given me a lovely present for Christmas, a silver bracelet with beautifully cut turquoise stones. I'd never been happier. I'd given him a gift too. A pair of grey suede gloves, lined with fur.
"... to keep your hands warm when you're away from me," I'd said. He'd laughed and kissed me. With love I thought. It had seemed so beautiful with the Christmas music in the background and his lips, his body close to mine.
But then less than two weeks later it was over. We were driving back from having dinner at the Mexicana when it happened. He'd been unusually quiet all evening. He looked weary-worried about something. I tried to cheer him up.
"I won't be coming back next week, Nancy," he said suddenly.
"No?" I said. I immediately sensed that he meant more than just next week. I bit my lip. "But you'll be back the week after, won't you?" I said.
He didn't look at me. He stared straight out at the road. He passed a car, then pulled back into the right hand lane. "I'm afraid not," he said. "The work I had here is finished. I can settle the last details by phone."
"You'll come back to see me though... to visit?"
"No, I won't be able to... I can't. I'll be just too busy with everything in New York."
I felt sick, empty. The road ahead blurred. The cars coming toward us seemed to zig-zag crazily. I felt that any moment one of them would come crashing into us. The weaving lights hurt my eyes. The horns sounded loud but miles away. I tried again. "But I could visit you there sometimes... " I stammered.
"No," he said. "It's different there... it wouldn't work out to have you come." His voice was firm, distant. He was again the austere man with the grey mustache walking down the hall. Everything that had been between us was suddenly, irrevocably, gone. I couldn't speak. I was hurt, bitter, angry. I fought back the tears. Already a heavy emptiness was settling in. "Why wouldn't it?" I managed to say finally.
"It just wouldn't. It just has to end."
"You're married, aren't you?" I shot back through my tears.
"No... it's not that. You just can't see me in New York, that's all. I can't explain it any further."
"You don't want all your fancy friends to meet the Knickerbocker maid."
He shook his head. "I've said all I'm going to," he said. "I don't want to talk about it."
"It doesn't bother you a bit, does it? You don't have any feelings at all."
He didn't answer. He kept staring straight ahead at the road. We were back in the downtown area now. He turned up the street that led to my hotel. I felt desperate; there was nothing I could do or say.
He rounded the corner and pulled up next to the hotel. He sat there, waiting for me to open the door. He was a rock, a stone. A man I didn't know. I'd have thrown myself at him if I'd thought that that would change it. But I knew there was nothing to do now except open the door and get out. I summoned up the spark of pride that I had left and undid the bracelet he'd given to me only a few days before. "Here, give this to your next girl," I said. I tossed it at him and it hit his knee. I heard it fall to the floor. He glanced up at me and seemed to make some slight movement in my direction just as I slammed the door. But it was dark and I couldn't be sure. His car just sat there for a moment, then zoomed back out into the traffic.
I watched the car move down the street. I managed to follow it for a while, then lost it among the other shapes and lights. I started for the hotel lobby door, looking down at the sidewalk. "Lose something, lady?" I heard a coarse male voice behind me say. I didn't glance back. I pushed through the door into the hotel.
I went to work early the next morning with some small hope that I might be able to see him, but his rooms were empty-he'd already checked out. I felt suddenly dizzy, sick, standing there next to the bed where we'd spent so many hours. I sat down for a few minutes until I felt better. After that I just walked away from it. I left my brooms and the vacuum and the cart of sheets and towels. I took the back stairway down and out and walked hurriedly to my hotel. I didn't quit. I just never went back to the Knickerbocker. Miss Milburne tried to phone me at my hotel. I didn't return her call.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I didn't go back to school either. I just sat in my room staring out, waiting for a call or a letter. But I knew that neither would ever come. I drank coffee and leafed through old magazines. I couldn't do anything else-didn't want to do anything else. My money dwindled. I didn't know what would happen to me next. I started to sit back farther from the window. I kept it locked. I was afraid of it. I lay on the bed facing the dingy yellowish walls.
One night, about a week after it had all ended, I had a dream. I was dozing in the chair next to the dresser. In my dream I was walking alone in a strange park. The night was black and hot. I came upon other people in the park-couples strolling along the wide concrete walkway, sitting on the benches, laughing, talking, kissing. I walked on. I felt the sweat trickle from beneath my arms down the sides of my body. I listened to my heels click along the sidewalk. I saw lightning in the sky but there was no thunder. A strange bird shrieked. Everyone started bumping into me as if none of them could see me, as if I didn't exist.
The sidewalk narrowed to a gravel path. I was now completely alone. I walked on in darkness. Ahead, I saw a light coming from a house high on a hill. The house was dark except for one window. I kept walking, climbing the hill. Higher. Higher. The house didn't seem to get any closer. The path grew very steep. My legs numbed. I wanted to turn back but the light in the window beckoned.
Finally I came to the top of the hill and stood on a lawn in front of the house. As I walked toward the light in the window, some bushes caught my skirt and ripped it. Inside I saw a man and a woman lying next to each other on a large bed not touching. I couldn't see their faces. The bedspread was white and seemed to be made of fur. The man lying on his back, was wearing silky pajamas. The woman was dressed in a strange costume- blue and green feathers covering only her breasts and her pussy. Her skin looked very white. Long blue plumes stuck out of her hair.
The man got out of bed and left the room. The woman turned slightly and I was able to see her face- my face. She was me. I drew back, startled. Then the man came back into the room and I pressed close against the window again. The man looked like Richard, but he didn't have a mustache. Then suddenly he looked younger, like Dave for a moment, then like his father. Then like Craig, Hank, Jeff. Like all of them, but really none of them-rather all of them mixed together. A stranger I'd seen many times before.
I watched the woman-myself-sit up as the man moved closer to the bed. He was wearing a black suit now but no tie. A polar bear's head poked out of the white fur bedspread, mouth open, teeth jagged over a black tongue, f saw the woman, saw myself reach out, almost as if in slow motion, unzip the man's trousers and draw out his penis. I watched myself kiss the tip of it, then take it deep into my mouth. The man pressed forward and started to pull the feathers from my breasts as I sucked him. The quills were imbedded deep in my breasts, and it hurt each time he plucked one. He tossed the feathers away one at a time, making a small pile on the floor. Blue feathers, green feathers, occasionally a white one. It didn't hurt the me looking through the window as much as it appeared to hurt the me inside the room. I was only watching. I wasn't really there on the bed.
All of the feathers were now in a pile on the floor and my breasts were bare, my nipples pink and pointed. I saw small bleeding sores where the quills had been pulled from the white skin of my breasts. I watched myself take the man's cock from my mouth and press it against my breasts, rubbing off the sticky fluid from the tip. The blood disappeared. The sores disappeared. My breasts looked smooth and flawless.
I watched myself rub the man's cock against my nipples. But standing outside the window I felt far distant from all of it. I tried to figure out who the man was-if he was one of the men I'd known or all of them. Then I saw myself take his prick back into my mouth. I seemed to enjoy sucking it. I pushed against the window. I saw the man push back gently on my shoulders. I let his penis slip out of my mouth and I backed away from him and lay on my back. He crawled onto the bed and began to pluck the feathers from between my thighs. It didn't seem to hurt at all. Instead I heard small cries of pleasure escape my lips each time he pulled one. He was careful to throw each feather so that it landed among the others. The pile grew.
Finally he'd plucked all of the feathers from me and I lay naked on the bed. I spread my thighs and he bent his face to my pussy. I felt his lips brush the curly wisps of hair. Then he pressed his tongue against me, into me. I felt the excitement, the ache build inside me as his tongue darted in and out. Suddenly he was on top of me, astride me. I watched the cock push in. I felt the big cock push in. The pink cunt lips separated to take him. Concentrated and clung to him. I felt myself rising, spinning, almost bursting- The pile of blue and green feathers suddenly took form, filled out, grew. Eyes. Claws. A pointed beak. The big bird flapped its wings, eyes sharp yellow, beak curved cruelly. It flew straight at me. The window glass in front of me disappeared. The couple on the bed disappeared. I turned and started running. The bird kept coming at me. I caught my skirt on the bushes again. I heard my skirt tear and it unraveled behind me as I ran and it came entirely off.
I ran naked down the gravel path, the big bird just behind me. I heard the rush of its wings. I looked back, then lost my footing, tripped, fell. The bird hovered over me, then descended upon me. Its claws tore at my breasts. The big beak dug into my belly. I felt chunks of flesh being ripped from me. Felt the blood spurt out. I could smell the bird. I could hear and feel the beating of its wings. I could taste the heat of my own blood. I cried out. I woke. I was lying on the floor next to the chair. Hot sweat covered me, turned cold. I lay there exhausted, cold, afraid to try to reconstruct the dream.
Each night after that I stayed awake as late as I could. I didn't sit in the chair by the dresser again. But I knew that the dream would come back. When it did, a few days later, it was somewhat different. Again there was the path, the house on the hill, the window with the beckoning light. But when I got to the top of the hill and looked inside, I saw no furniture in the room. I saw myself lying naked on a white fur carpet, nothing or no one else in the room. In the dream I remembered how the other one had ended. I tried to wake up, but couldn't.
Six men wearing black masks came into the room, marched up to my prone body and lined up, three on each side. They stood over me, almost as if at attention. Except for the masks, they were naked too. From the window I could see their long hard pricks jutting out, my body moving seductively beneath them. Then on a signal from one, all six pounced on me. Their big cocks filled my mouth, my pussy, every opening in my body and I screamed out at the sight of it. The six masked faces glanced up and turned my way. Then the men all pulled away from the me lying there on the carpet and started after the me standing just outside the window.
They chased me down the path. When I looked back they were gone. I was standing on an iceberg above a cold black sea. Another iceberg, covered with a pile of thick white fur rugs, came floating toward me. The rugs changed into six polar bears who looked at me hungrily. There was nowhere for me to go except into the cold sea. The iceberg with the polar bears floated closer and I could see the hungry eyes, the open drooling jaws, the lips black and wet against white teeth...
I awoke, sick, afraid, miserable. I couldn't stand to be alone in my room. I got up, dressed quickly and went out into the winter night. It was late and the lights in most of the buildings were out. I walked in the cold, the wind chilling me and burning my face. My legs ached and my feet were numb, but I kept walking, head bent against the wind. Then I saw a blue neon light half a block ahead. I pushed on toward it. I drew closer to the light. There was a window. I looked through it into a small bar directly beneath. There were more blue lights inside. Bottles glittered in the big mirror along the wall. It looked cozy, warm.
I opened the door and stepped out of the night, hoping that no one would ask me to prove my age. I sat down on a stool. A fat older-looking woman was tending bar. She seemed to be scowling as she waddled toward me, but when she spoke her voice sounded quite pleasant. "What's yours, honey?"
I hesitated. "Creme de menthe... " I blurted out finally. I knew I wasn't pronouncing it right.
"Creme... what?" she said and chuckled. "Nothing fancy like that in here. Beer or whiskey, that's your choice."
Customers along the bar and at the tables were staring, but I didn't mind. It was good to be with other people, people not in my dream.
"Whiskey then," I said. "With Seven-up."
She made the drink quickly and set it in front of me. "That'll be sixty cents hon."
The drink warmed me. It was good being in out of the cold. I felt comfortable in the room just having them near me. I finished my drink and ordered another. If I had enough to drink, I thought, maybe I wouldn't dream again when I went back to bed later. I ordered a third. A man who'd been sitting farther down the bar came over and sat on the stool next to mine. "Can I buy this one?" he asked. He wasn't especially good-looking, but his eyes were friendly.
"Yes, all right," I said smiling.
He offered me a cigarette. He said his name was Jim. We smoked and drank. I felt his hand suddenly on my inner thigh as we sat half-facing each other. His hand was on the outside of my skirt but it sent a shiver all through me-. I pretended not to notice. I enjoyed sitting here in the small bar, enjoyed listening to the laughing and the talking and the music. His hand moved higher. I felt warm.
We stood outside under the blue light after the bar closed. "Where should we go?" he asked. "Your place or mine?"
"My hotel isn't so good," I said. "You have to go right through the lobby."
"Let's go to my place then," he said. "It's just an old rooming house. There's no one to see you come in."
"All right," I said.
His room was small. A narrow bed, a chest, two chairs. There were no drapes, just tattered green shades. He locked the door when we came in. As soon as we sat down on the bed he started kissing me. His hand moved quickly under the elastic of my panties. I felt the tip of his finger stroke my bud. We lay back and he pressed his finger deeper into me. I fondled the bulge in his trousers, then unzipped his pants and drew out his prick. It felt good, hard and warm and swollen in my hand.
"This isn't much of a room, is it?" he said.
"It's fine," I said. "I don't mind it being small at all. It makes everything so comfortable." I liked him. He didn't say much but he was nice. He made me feel a part of everything again. He made me forget the nightmare of my room.
I lay on my back, he on his side. I drew his cock to my pussy and he thrust it in. His cock wasn't especially thick but it was long and firm. His smooth, even lunges brought us both quickly to a climax. It seemed to end almost before it even started and it didn't really excite me much. But it felt nice, warm. It was just what I'd needed. It had brought me back into everything. Afterward I kept fondling his soft penis and the warmth of his balls. I pressed my body close to his, enjoying his clean sweaty smell. I hated the thought of going back through the cold night to my room. I traced the stubble of beard on his cheek with my fingertips. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" I asked.
"If you'd like to... "
"Yes. We can snuggle up together. Are you going to wear pajamas?"
"No."
"Good... I'll be able to feel you next to me then."
I slept a deep sleep. I didn't dream. A long time later I awoke to the touch of Jim's hand against my belly. Still half-asleep I reached for his penis, which was swollen and hard again. My pussy lips were dry and we had some trouble getting him into me, but the hard rubbing of his cock against my cunt felt good. Gradually our skins became wetter and soon he was smoothly moving in and out of me. It took longer for us to come this time. I liked the feeling of the quick warm spurts inside me. I liked the feeling of his cock shrinking slowly out of me. I was content. I snuggled my head in against his shoulder.
When I woke again, the room was bright with sun. I looked at my watch. It was after nine. I thought maybe he'd gone down the hall to the bathroom or something and I relaxed back on the pillow to wait for him.
But when he didn't return, I finally got out of bed and gathered up my clothes. I saw a handwritten note on the chair next to the bed. Some money was clipped to the paper. I picked up the note and read it.
You didn't say anything about how much. I hope this ten is enough. You were sleeping so good when I left I didn't want to wake you.
I stared at the bill. So he'd thought I was a prostitute. A whore. The thought stunned me. Then I recalled how I'd come into the bar late and alone the night before. And about how he'd bought me a drink and had almost immediately placed his hand far up my thigh. Still, it had never dawned on me that he'd thought I was anything but a girl looking for company. Maybe it was the way I'd looked.
I studied my face in the small mirror on the chest. The skin under my eyes was dark from sleepless nights; my eyes were bloodshot, my cheeks looked hollow, pale. I turned away from my reflection and started to put the money back on the chair. Then instead I folded it carefully and slipped it into my purse.
With the ten dollars I bought some meals, paid a few dollars on my growing hotel bill and bought two inexpensive pairs of stockings. After days of not working I'd been almost broke. I'd felt guilty about keeping the money but enjoyed spending it. It had been so easy to come by, almost like a gift. But it lasted only a few days. I was down to almost my last dollar again. I looked at the ads in the paper. Waitresses... secretaries... cleaning ladies... I tossed the paper on the bed and stepped to the window. It was still early evening. Neon burned bright along the streets.
I combed my hair, brushed on a bit of mascara and put on lipstick until my lips burned red. I stepped into my shortest skirt, a black one, and slipped on a sheer white blouse over my flimsiest bra. I left the hotel and walked quickly along the cold grey streets until I could see the blue light glowing just ahead. Then I slowed my pace and practiced swinging my hips as I walked.
CHAPTER TWELVE
This time I sat at a table. Jim wasn't in the bar anywhere, but there were other men. I noticed their stares. I lit a cigarette and crossed my legs.
"What'll yours be hon... same as before?" the fat lady called to me from behind the bar. I nodded, surprised that she remembered. She brought the drink and took my money. I sipped the drink. I didn't have money enough for more than two. I waited for a man to come over to me.
But none of them did. Finally I had to order another drink. I drank it even more slowly than the first. Then I decided I had to do something. I picked out a rather good-looking man who was sitting in a booth near the ladies' room. He sat with two other men, playing cards. He had on a brown suit and a colorful tie. His hair was wavy and mostly grey. He looked as if he'd have some money.
I walked to the ladies' room, passing as close to his booth as I dared, swinging my hips. He glanced up as I went by. I winked at him. A slight wink. But enough.
When I came back out I walked so close to him that my hip almost brushed his shoulder. I turned my head so that our eyes met. I winked again and continued on to my table. I sipped my drink and waited.
After a few minutes he came over, sat down and bought me a drink. I asked him if he'd had any luck at cards. He said yes, some. He pushed his knee against mine. I pushed back. "Can I take you home later?" he asked.
"Yes, I'd like you to," I said.
We kept talking and rubbing our legs together beneath the table. He bought me a couple more drinks and I started feeling bolder from the whiskey. "I'm kind of expensive," I said with a laugh as he tried to pry apart my thighs with his hand.
"How much?" he asked.
"Twenty dollars," I said.
"That sounds okay," he said. "Shall we go then after we finish this drink?"
I nodded. I let my thighs slide apart and his hand moved higher beneath my skirt.
Before we left he went back to say something to the men he'd been playing cards with. They stared at me and I turned away. Finally we started for the door. "G'night hon," I heard the fat lady call from behind the bar. Just as we pushed out the door, Jim came in.
"Well, hello," he said smiling.
"Hi... " I said. I stopped. But the man in the brown suit pulled me firmly along by the arm. The door swung shut behind us. I tripped over a chunk of ice on the sidewalk, almost fell. It was cold and windy. We walked up the block to the man's car, then headed for my hotel.
Inside my room, he gave me the twenty dollars, then started undressing me. He didn't kiss me. As soon as I was naked he eased me back onto the bed and lay down next to me, still fully dressed. He felt my breasts for a minute, then sucked my nipples. He unzipped his pants and placed my hand on his cock, hard but surprisingly small. He kept sliding my hand up and down the length of it. Then he got up on his knees and spread my thighs apart.
He pushed his sticky penis into me. I had no feeling of excitement at all. He started fucking me. I heard his breath grow rapid. But just when I thought he was going to come, he stopped his thrusts and sat back on his haunches. "We'll wait a minute," he said. "I like to build up to it gradually." These were the first words he'd spoken since giving me the money. He'd looked rather handsome in the bar but now I found him almost repulsive. After a few minutes he pushed back into me and began the machine like thrusts again. He stopped once more to rest, then started in again. This time he drove on to the finish. At the last moment I began to feel some small excitement as he spurted inside me. Then unexpectedly I came too. My orgasm was mild but it was good, even though I didn't like him. He pulled his now flaccid cock out of me and zipped up his pants. He sat up on the bed and lit a cigarette. "You're a good piece," he said.
I didn't say anything. I didn't really care what he thought. I had the money.
"Well, I guess I'll be running along," he said. "Maybe I can win some of my money back at cards." He laughed. "You're a good piece," he repeated. "We'll have to get together sometime again."
I smiled noncommittally. Then he was out the door and gone.
I got up and took the money out of my purse. I fondled it. I rubbed it between my finger and my thumb. There were two fives and ten ones. I folded the bills into a thick wad and put them back in my purse. I got out my pajamas and started to put them on. But I wasn't tired. Having the money exhilarated me. I got it out and counted it again. I glanced at my watch. It wasn't even midnight. The bars would be open for hours yet. I slipped into my miniskirt and the sheer blouse and headed back toward the bar with the blue light.
But as I approached it I decided I didn't want to go there again. Not tonight. The man in the brown suit would probably be back inside playing cards with the others. They would look up. Stare. I walked past the blue light and turned at the next corner. Ahead I saw a flickering yellow neon sign-Eddie's Place, I walked toward it.
It was almost three when I finally got to sleep that night. The fellow I'd picked up at Eddie's had taken me to a motel at the edge of town. I'd felt even bolder this time. I told him it would be thirty dollars. He talked me down to twenty-five. He was more romantic about it than the man in the brown suit. He French-kissed me until my mouth was sore. I peaked twice as he was moving in and out of me. But the whole time I kept thinking about the money in my purse. Forty-five dollars-in one night. It amazed me how easy it had been. I started thinking about how much I could make in a week... a month... a year. I imagined myself moving to a fancier place, buying fancy bras and panties and beautiful dresses in the latest styles. I came again just as he did.
The next night I went back to the bar with the blue light. One of the men who'd been playing cards with the man in the brown suit the night before took me back to my room. "George said you were a real good piece," he mentioned as he started to undress. He said it as a compliment as he started to finger my cunt.
"I always take the money first," I said.
"Oh... " he said. He got out his wallet and handed me a twenty-dollar bill.
"Twenty-five," I said.
"George said it was only twenty."
"That was last night. The price has gone up." I was surprised at the cold sound of my voice.
"I hope you're worth it," he said. He handed me another bill reluctantly.
"I am," I said. I put the five-dollar bill and the twenty in my purse. I stripped off my dress and unfastened my bra. "How do you want it?" I asked. "Is on my back all right?"
He nodded. He stared hungrily at my breasts and pussy. "Let's start," he said. I lay back on the bed and slid forward to take in his cock...
Afterwards he went back to the bar with the blue light. I rode along with him. I thought that maybe the man in the brown suit would be there. He wasn't but Jim was. After a few drinks, Jim and I went back to his room. It felt good to have Jim fuck me again. I liked him better than the others. When he asked me if ten dollars was enough, I said yes. I stayed all night with him again. It was pleasant sleeping in the narrow bed close to his warm body. He was gone in the morning again when I woke.
I started going to the expensive bars uptown. The hotel bars. The men there had more money. One night I picked up a well-dressed older man who must have been in his late sixties. His hair was almost white. He bought me a few drinks. I really didn't want to go to bed with him, so when he asked how much, I said a hundred. I thought that would get rid of him in a hurry. Instead he opened his wallet and showed me two fifty-dollar bills.
"Okay," I said.
We went up to his room and he undressed me. Very slowly. One garment at a time. Each time he removed an article of clothing he stepped back for a moment to study me before continuing. I grew impatient but he seemed to be getting his kicks out of it and I thought, for a hundred dollars why should I care. So I relaxed and let him take his time. But when we finally got into bed he had trouble getting his cock hard and couldn't push it past the dry lips of my pussy.
I tried to help him. I rubbed it, stroked it, felt his balls. I did everything I could think of except to suck him, but nothing helped. Finally we managed to get the tip in and maybe an inch more. But when he started his thrusts it softened up again and slipped out. It all ended up with me jerking him with my hand until he came on my leg a few inches from my cunt. I was afraid at first that he might be disappointed and try to get some of his money back, but he seemed elated. Apparently it was an accomplishment for him just to have come at all. "We'll have to do this again," he said. "Next time I'll get way up inside you... you'll see."
I didn't answer. I just dressed quickly and started for the door. I wouldn't go through a mess like that again. Not even for a hundred. I'd rather take on three or four guys who could do it the way it should be done.
One night I was startled to see Richard Southland's picture in a New York newspaper that was lying on the sofa of some hotel lobby. I barely got a chance to look at the article beneath it when the man I'd been waiting for came out of the bar and hurried me along with him up to his room. All I could think about while he was fucking me was getting back down to the lobby to finish reading the article. I fondled his balls and rubbed the skin behind them to make him come quickly so that I could leave. It worked. He acted irritated when I got right up afterwards and started dressing but I didn't care.
When I got back down to the lobby, though, the newspaper was gone. I hunted all over for it-beneath the sofa cushions, under chairs, but I couldn't find it anywhere. I couldn't think of any place in town that carried New York newspapers. I tried to remember what the article had said. I could only recall that it was something about some big construction project he'd started working on in New York City, and something about him being scheduled to meet with the Mayor's Commission. That was all. His picture had looked handsome. I walked across town thinking about his picture. I picked up Jim at the bar with the blue light and we went back to his room.- In the morning I put the ten-dollar bill he'd given me in the top drawer of his dresser. I felt somewhat purified having done that. Besides, there were others who paid so much more. Ten dollars didn't make that much difference. Tonight I could start out early. Maybe I could work in three men. Or even four.
In April I got a letter from my mother saying that if I didn't come home to visit soon, she'd come with my father to see me. She asked why I hadn't written. I hadn't been home since a two-day visit at Christmas and I guess she was worried. I sent off a letter that same night saying that I hadn't written before because I'd been too busy with my job and schoolwork. I said I'd surely come to visit that next weekend though. I didn't want my mother coming to Blue River and going up to see my room. I knew she'd guess right away that something was up if she were to see all the new clothes I'd bought.
It was raining that Friday night when I took the bus home. My parents met me at the station. I was wearing almost no makeup and a dark conservative dress. I even brought along a few of my old schoolbooks, thinking that I'd pretend to be busy with my studies part of the time.
The weekend wasn't at all pleasant. It was just one lie after another. The dark circles under my eyes were from staying up late studying, I said. Yes, school was going well. No, I really didn't have any boyfriends yet. They swallowed all of it.
They had it arranged for me to go to a wedding dance on Saturday night with the son of some people who'd just moved to town. I knew almost everybody at the dance. They asked a lot of questions as we stood around the punch table. It all irritated me, bored me. The boy I'd been fixed up with acted very shy while we were dancing, but he surprised me by giving it a real try when he parked his car afterward on the way home. I let him French-kiss me and feel my breasts, but I stopped him when he tried to get his hand inside my panties. "I'm just not that kind of girl," I said. I wouldn't have minded letting him fuck me just to chase the boredom for a while, but. I didn't want it to get around town that I had loose morals.
When I got home I went straight to my room. I was already in bed when my mother called up that she'd just made some popcorn. Would I like to come down and eat some and talk awhile about the dance, she asked. I didn't want to, of course, but I put on my robe and went downstairs. There was no use in being deliberately unpleasant. Anyway I felt a little sorry for my mother and I knew that it would be a long time before I came home again.
"Take care of yourself," my father said when they took me to the bus station early the next evening.
"Be a good girl," said my mother.
They kissed me goodbye.
I showered as soon as I got back to Blue River, then took a cab to the Knickerbocker bar. I kidded some with the bartender. I'm sure he knew why I always came there, but he didn't seem to mind like they did in some of the places. I think I'd have made a pitch for him but I could tell by the way he talked that he was fond of his wife and wouldn't cheat on her.
About midnight a mild-looking man with thick glasses sat down on the stool next to mine and started buying me drinks. He was nicely dressed, polite. He didn't appeal to me but it was getting late and I knew that if I was going to pick up anyone at all I couldn't be too choosy.
We settled on thirty dollars before getting into the cab. We rode out to the Dahlia Motel. He said he already had a room at the Knickerbocker but was staying with another man who'd already gone to bed. I made him give me the money while we were still in the cab. I always felt more relaxed after I had the money. It prevented disagreements later.
He approached me slowly once we were in the motel room. I didn't mind that. It would be too late when we finished to go back for anyone else anyway. He kissed me almost passively, he showing little emotion. I wondered if he were another one of those characters with big ideas who wouldn't be able to get a hard-on when it came right down to it.
But I felt his penis big and stiff when he suddenly pushed up against me. He began kissing me with fervor. I felt his teeth graze my lip and I tasted blood. "Hey, watch it a little," I said. "That hurts."
He paid no attention and dug his teeth into my lips, then into my cheek. When I started to yell out, he clamped his hand over my mouth, then hit me across the face with his other hand. I fell back onto the bed. His eyes looked frenzied, his face twisted. I could see the saliva dripping from his lips. He took out his cock and let it hang over me. He didn't try to stick it into me. He kept pummeling my face and body as he climbed on top of me. I was dazed. I couldn't understand what was going on. He squeezed one of my breasts cruelly and his fingernails clawed deep in. He kept his other hand over my mouth. Just when I thought he would rip my breasts away from my body, his hand moved away. But then it was under my skirt, tearing at my panties. He tore them away from my pussy and shoved his fingers into me. He clawed at the lips of my vagina, nails digging in deep, cutting me. I kept trying to cry out but he smothered my screams.
My kicking and struggling did no good at first but finally I managed to free my right arm. As his fingernails dug deeper into my cunt, I swung hard, striking him across the face. I hit him again. And again. He didn't back away. He just stopped everything he was doing and sat there on top of me and took it. As I drew back my small fist to hit him for the fifth or sixth time, I noticed a strange look on his face. A contorted half-smile. A look of twisted ecstasy. Suddenly his warm come spilled out onto my belly. The stickiness trickled over my ribs, dripped onto the sheet. His eyes were glazed and his whole body was shaking violently.
Then suddenly his eyes opened bright. He pushed my arm away and started hitting me across the face again. This time even harder than before. His blows seemed to crush my jaw. I felt my teeth chip, felt myself spitting blood. He looked rabid now. His breathing was labored. He was almost unrecognizable as the man I'd come into the room with a few minutes before. He looked like a sick wild animal.
Then with a violent swing he hit me once more across the jaw and I sunk down onto the bed, barely conscious. Dimly I was aware of him climbing off of me, his shape swirling above me. Crossing the room. Going out the door. I tried to move but couldn't. The pain in my head was unbearable. Then a soothing numbness came slowly over me. I felt myself floating off, feeling nothing...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When I came to, it seemed as if days had passed. My whole body throbbed. I could feel teeth loose in my mouth. I stumbled to the bathroom and spit out the blood. I could hardly bear to look in the mirror. My face was swollen, my mouth streaked with blood. It seemed almost as if I were looking at someone else. Each movement of my body seemed to tear me apart. I dressed painfully and called a cab.
I woke late the next morning to the light of a dull April sun. It took me a while to get everything in focus. It even took a while for the pain to come back. When it did I took some aspirin and fell back on the bed. I tried to reconstruct it all, but couldn't. Everything was fuzzy. I recalled the strange look of ecstasy on the man's face when I'd hit him, remembered his semen shooting onto my belly. It nauseated me to think about it.
I thought about calling the police. When I pictured myself trying to answer all their questions, I decided against that. I washed my face and got off some of the dried blood from around my mouth. I wasn't hungry for breakfast: I decided to sneak down to the lobby to get some ice for the swelling. I'd spend the day resting, recovering.
It got worse before it got better. Half of my face turned yellowish purple. By the third day though, the swelling was gone except over my cheekbone. The pain had tapered off to a continual dull ache. I took aspirin constantly and I kept to my room as much as I could, going out only to eat. Then on the fourth day the pain in my mouth suddenly grew worse and I had to go to the dentist. He only had to pull one tooth but he said I'd have trouble chewing on the left side for a long time. "Were you in an accident or something?" he asked. I nodded. The cotton felt dry in my mouth.
It was almost two weeks before I went out looking for a man again. By then my appearance was almost back to normal. I was a little afraid about it now though -afraid I'd run into another monster like that. But I had to have money. I'd spent most of what I'd made on clothes and jewelry and was almost broke. I was very careful now about who I picked up. At first I stuck strictly to men I'd been with before. But I always worried some even with them. Except with Jim. We usually slept together at his place about two nights a week now. I started to take his money again. I hated to but I needed it.
As the days dimmed my memory of the night I'd been beaten up, I started going with strangers again, choosing carefully. One night I saw a boy in a restaurant, staring at my legs. I let my thighs slide apart so that he could see all the way up. He couldn't have been more than seventeen. We got to talking while waiting in line to pay our bills.
I liked him. He was fresh and young. He wore tight-fitting trousers and I kept glimpsing the big bulge at his crotch. We went for a ride in his car. He parked on the shoulder of a narrow gravel road at the outskirts of town. He seemed disappointed when I told him I did it only for money. He said he had just seven dollars with him, but that he'd get me some more later when we were on our way home. I didn't know whether or not to believe him but I took his money. "All right," I said.
It was his first time I think. He seemed so eager and nervous. He covered my face with nibbling kisses. He pawed me hungrily, awkwardly, but his cock felt good and it was surprisingly thick. I felt myself coming before we'd gone more than half-a-dozen strokes. The hard rubbing of his skin against mine was almost unbearably pleasurable. I gritted my teeth as I reached my peak. Then it was over for him too. I felt his warm wet globs spill into me and I tightened my legs around his back to pull him even deeper into me, then slowly, deliciously I descended. It lasted a long time. I lay in the sun on the hot sand, clinging to him, listening to the ocean breakers roar.
He didn't talk much or kiss me again. He started the car and said he'd drive to his house to get the rest of the money. I told him to forget it, that the seven dollars was enough. I had him take me back uptown and drop me off at the Knickerbocker bar.
It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed being fucked that much. Even with Jim it was only mildly pleasant. With the others I'd thought about nothing but the money. It began to bother me how little pleasure I usually got from it now, how seldom I climaxed, how glad I often was to have it over. A few nights later I went back to the restaurant, looking for the boy who'd paid me seven dollars but I didn't see him. I hungered to be screwed in a way that excited me again.
On a night in May I met the blue-eyed man in the coffee shop of the Knickerbocker. The eyes were the first thing I noticed about him. Clear, intense and dominating. There was a look of cool strength about him that immediately appealed to me. His suit and highly polished shoes looked expensive, so he would have money too.
I employed my usual sensual smile and held myself so that my breasts pushed out against my dress. I crossed my legs to show the pinkish flesh above my stockings. He caught my message immediately and smiled coolly back at me.
We started talking in the lobby. He'd followed after me, as I'd known he would. His voice was very pleasant. We walked down the street to a bar that had just opened the week before. It was dark inside. I let him caress my thighs beneath the table. His hand didn't hesitate in its movement toward my pussy when I mentioned fifty dollars as the price. "Fine... " he said.
I slid forward in my chair so that he could feel me a little higher. For that kind of money I wouldn't have to worry about hurrying back for another man before the bars closed.
We had a second drink. He took my hand and pressed it against his trousers. I can remember thinking right away that he had the biggest cock I'd ever touched. It was difficult to be sure just holding him through his trousers like that but it seemed that way. I traced the length of it with my fingertips and tried to picture what it would look like bare, tried to imagine how the thickness of it would feel pushing up into my cunt. My panties began to get wet. That hadn't happened to me from just petting for a long time. I was suddenly anxious to get to bed with him. I finished my drink in one long swallow. "It's getting late," I said. "Maybe we should get going... "
His room was on the top floor of the Knickerbocker. An expensively furnished room with a picture window that overlooked the river. We stood next to the window for a minute, caressing each other lightly.
He got out his wallet and gave me the money. "Thank you," I said and put the money in my purse. I noticed a beautiful white leather chair in the corner. I would sit there afterward and have a cigarette. Everything was very pleasant, comfortable. I felt dreamy.
"Do you suck?" he asked.
"Huh?" I said. The abruptness of his question caught me by surprise.
"I asked if you sucked," he repeated. His voice was matter-of-fact, his blue eyes cool.
I forced a short laugh. "I don't know," I said. "It depends. Not usually. But if you wanted to pay more... another $50.00?"
"That much? That'd make a hundred altogether."
I stood my ground. "That's how much I'd have to have to make it worth it," I said. I wasn't sure whether I wanted him to accept. I'd never kissed the cocks of any of the men who'd paid to fuck me-except Jim's, and his only for a moment at the tip. I hadn't sucked it. I hadn't done that since being with Richard. I wasn't anxious to now either, but for fifty dollars it would be worth it. A few minutes of sliding my lips against his prick before he fucked me. It would be easy money.
He gave me a twenty, a ten, and the rest in ones. I didn't count it. I just stuffed it in my purse.
I stepped forward to have him kiss and caress me a little more before getting onto the bed. But he ignored my lips, my tingling breasts. Instead he took my hand firmly and led me to the bed. "Sit down," he said. He stood in front of me, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.
It was immense. Purplish. I could see the swollen head gleaming in the light. I'd never seen a man so big, so thick. Large purplish veins stood distended along the shaft. His balls hung heavy beneath. Black hair grew thick all over them. His prick looked very hard.
"Feel it first," he said, pressing the huge prick toward me. I caught it with my hands just as it brushed my cheek. I began to stroke the pulsing hardness slowly. I could hear his heavy breathing. I hadn't planned on it being at all like this, so direct, so coarse. Yet, the size of his cock aroused me. I guessed I wouldn't mind kissing it lightly. Even sucking the end of it for a while before he shoved the swollen thickness deep into my cunt.
"My balls too... feel the balls... " he said.
I reached down to cup them. They were warm and full. I squeezed them.
"Not too hard," he grunted. "Easy. Now my cock again, feel it, jack it... "
I stroked the length of his cock lightly.
"Harder... harder."
I kept stroking him, trying to move my hand faster.
"Now take it in your mouth," he said. "Suck it."
I kissed the tip gingerly.
"Suck it... suck it," he said.
I tried to smile up at him. "Let me get used to it. Give me a minute first."
"All right, all right," he said impatiently. "But do something. Start it."
I took his cock into my mouth hesitantly. I pressed my tongue down against it, licked it. I kept my eyes shut.
"Suck it... suck more of it."
It felt gigantic. I hoped he'd only want me to do this for a minute before fucking me.
"More. Get it in deeper. Suck harder. You're barely touching me."
I tried. But I couldn't get myself to take any more of him into my mouth. It gagged me. I'd gladly have given him back the money to have it over with. I drew back a little.
But suddenly he locked his hands behind my head and pulled my face forward, at the same time pushing the huge cock deeper into my mouth. Three inches Four. More. I felt myself getting sick. I tried to pull away but his hands held me like a vise.
"Suck," he commanded. "You think I gave you an extra fifty just to nibble? Suck."
I tried again but couldn't. He solved that by pumping his hips back and forth, sliding his cock between my lips. He fucked my mouth. I hated it the way he was forcing me. I couldn't stand anymore. I bit down on his cock, digging my teeth into it.
"You do that, I'll break your god damn neck!" he said. "Now suck!"
I sucked him as he commanded. I was afraid. His voice sounded strange, remote, almost desperate. I tried to open my mouth to ask him if we could stop for just a minute. But I couldn't. His huge cock filled it. He kept pulling my head forward and pushing it back, fucking my mouth. The pace of his thrusts increased and I heard his breath come faster. I felt the big cock swell even larger. I sensed, that he was about to come. In a moment the big globs of semen would be spilling against my throat.
The thought sickened me. That had never happened before except for a few drops with Richard just before he withdrew. I hadn't minded that-it had been exciting, romantic. I would have even enjoyed swallowing his come. I'd loved him. But this was different. It was revolting. I bit him again. I didn't care if he did break my neck-I only wanted his cock out of my mouth.
But the biting didn't seem to bother him at all now. He only increased the violence of his lunges, driving deeper against my throat. "You've got the idea now... that's right," he said. "I'm going to come... in your mouth... in a minute... come... yes, suck... " His voice was hoarse. "Keep sucking me, you bitch, keep sucking me!" he cried out loud.
I felt his cock spit into my mouth. I gagged and tried to pull back, but he yanked my head toward him. My mouth was filled with his semen. I could feel some of it gushing over my lips and running down my chin. I could hardly breathe. I had to swallow. He was done now, but he still kept pushing into me. His whole body was shaking and I could feel his cock begin to shrink and soften.
Then he pulled back suddenly, sliding his dripping cock between my lips. My mouth was empty of him, except for the awful globs of stickiness. I spit out everything I could. Onto the floor, the bedspread. He flopped on the bed next to me, breathing heavily.
I ran into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. I bent over the sink and vomited. I cupped water in my hands and threw it into my mouth, trying to wash the taste away. Still my mouth didn't feel clean. I was thirsty but couldn't stand to drink. I straightened up, feeling dizzy and sick. It wasn't me in the mirror at all-it was a swollen mouth, a cunt-mouth. I turned away from the sight of myself and glanced back into the bedroom. He was still face down on the bed, so I tiptoed back into the bedroom, grabbed my purse and hurried out the door.
I ran down the corridor, listening for the sound of his footsteps after me. I didn't wait for the elevator. I started down the flights of dark stairs. Twice I almost tripped. It seemed to take forever to get to the bottom. Finally I came out into the lobby. The people, the lights looked unreal. I could hear the hollow click of my heels across the marble floor. Everyone was staring. I pushed out through the big revolving door into the street.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I started my job as a sales clerk at Nelson's three days later. Nelson's was an exclusive downtown women's apparel shop. The job would be the first step back. The neon-lit bars were behind me now. The cold streets. The endless line of nameless men. The stuffing of money into my purse. The wild nights in this room and that. With the new job it would all be ended.
I'd sat numbed on the edge of the bed for a long time after getting home that night. My whole body throbbed. I couldn't get the sickening taste of him out of my mouth. The image of myself sucking him kept flashing through my brain. The big blue-green bird chased me and the iceberg floated closer. I tried to get away but couldn't. I was falling... back... back. The big bird dug its claws into me, raked my skin with its curved beak. My mouth filled with the warm stickiness, making me gag, choking me. I had to wash out my mouth. The bird clawed me. The thick white cock swelled. The white bears chewed at my breasts. Everything tightened against me, filled me, ripped at me. I felt the hurt, the ache... the taste of his come in my mouth.
When I woke, the headache and the taste were gone. The sun felt warm across my bed. No birds to chase me. No bears. I knew then that now it was all over, that it would never happen again. Somehow I had cut away from it during the long night. I had gone as far as I could and now I had turned the corner back. No more fifty-dollars bills. No more eager or drunken or depraved men. I would get a job, a nice clean job with regular hours and ordinary pay. I'd go back to school. Start everything all over again.
I felt composed, even triumphant. I got up and walked to the dresser. My footsteps were light. A great weight seemed gone. I studied myself in the mirror. A little tired-looking, pale maybe, but nothing that time wouldn't take care of. Time and rest and getting away from it. I felt strong.
Nelson's was one of the few clothing stores in Blue River where I didn't have a charge account. Their price tags had been too steep for me even when I'd been making loads of money. The first few weeks on the job went well. The old, businesslike man who owned the store, Mr. Peabody, was very nice to me. He had me work in all the departments so that I'd become familiar with the entire line.
I enjoyed the work at first-the regular hours, handling all the beautiful dresses and gowns, talking with the customers, the pleasant calm days walking among the clothes on the thick-carpeted floor. The past faded. I could barely remember what it had looked like-the faces of the men and the dim-lit bars. That had been a time in the distant past. It was gone now. I didn't go out with men at all now. I didn't miss them. It was peaceful, relaxing.
But the past caught up with me in one way. I'd run up a lot of bills that I couldn't keep up with now that my income had gone down. I started getting nasty letters from collection agencies. I tried to pay something on the bills when I could, but that seemed to work worse than paying nothing. I worried every day that Mr. Peabody would summon me into his office and tell me that he'd been called by a lawyer or the credit bureau or something. Nights I sat in my room, adding up what I owed, worrying about all of it. I smoked a lot. I started getting depressed and disliking my job. Everything seemed to be slipping.
One Friday night I decided to go back to the bar with the blue light. Not to start it all up again but just to earn enough so I could pay a few bills and take some of the pressure off. I showered and put on a short skirt and tight sweater. I started down the street. It was a warm June night. But a block from my hotel I turned back. I just couldn't begin it again. I didn't want a man, couldn't stand the thought of having one. The awful taste of the blue-eyed man's come seeped back into my mouth. I went back to the hotel and up to my room. I flopped on the bed and pressed my face tight against the pillow.
The days that followed were endless. I went about my job mechanically. Mr. Peabody had to remind me to smile at the customers. One store started a lawsuit to collect the money I owed. The manager of my hotel put a note in my mailbox that I'd have to bring myself up to date on the rent or move out. I started eating in the cheapest restaurants and began washing out my clothes by hand. One night I was watching the news on television when Richard Southland's face suddenly flashed onto the screen. He was standing next to someone who the announcer said was the Mayor of New York. There were a lot of other men in the background. The announcer said something about it being the dedication of a new building and that Richard Southland had been responsible for the construction.
The Mayor cut a ribbon. Richard and the Mayor shook hands, then the two of them shook hands with everyone around them. I wondered if the woman in the expensive-looking dress standing just behind Richard was with him. Then the picture was suddenly gone and the news went on to something else. I felt empty and alone. A letter from a collection agency stared up at me from the dresser. Everything seemed to be caving in. I felt weak, insignificant: a clerk selling corsets and brassieres to fat rich women. Going nowhere except back and forth between my job and my room.
"Nancy... " Mr. Peabody called out from his office just before the store closed one afternoon. "Would you come in for a moment?"
"Yes sir," I stammered. I was sure that some collection agency had gone through with its threat to report me to him.
I stepped into his office. With him was another man, younger. A lawyer or a collector, I was sure. The younger man stared at me. I wished I could just disappear.
But Mr. Peabody was smiling. "Nancy, I'd like you to meet Mr. Rolfe from the Bruce Company in New York. You know, we carry their line. He has a problem you might be able to help him with." Mr. Peabody turned to the younger man. "You think she'll do all right?"
The man kept looking at me, carefully exploring my breasts, my hips, my thighs. His eyes were penetrating. He was exceptionally handsome. "Yes, perfectly," he said. "She's exactly what I need."
I didn't have the least notion of what they were talking about, but I was relieved that he was not a collection man. But still I felt edgy.
"The situation is this," Mr. Peabody explained, "Mr. Rolfe is here on advertising promotion but has to fly out tonight. We're running an ad on his company's latest style summer dress in Sunday's paper. We just received the stock yesterday. He needs a girl to pose for the ad... wants to take the photos right away. But it's too late to get anyone from the modeling agency, so I mentioned the possibility of using you. If you're interested." Mr. Peabody smiled. "There'll be a little extra money in it for you, of course."
"Why, yes," I said. "I'd be happy to. I've never modeled before though."
"That doesn't matter," the younger man said, still gazing at me. "You'll work out fine, I'm sure."
I was excited carrying the dress back to the dressing room to change. It was a beautiful gold cocktail dress with emerald green trim. I hung it carefully on a hanger, then peeled off my own dress and draped it over a chair. I wasn't wearing a slip.
I studied myself in the mirror for a moment. I could see the wisps of blond hair through my panties, the pinkness of my nipples pushing out against the thin material of my bra. I enjoyed looking at myself almost naked in the mirror. It made me feel sensuous. I hadn't felt that way looking at my body in a long time. It must be the excitement of knowing I was going to pose for the picture, I thought. I turned this way and that, studying my curves from every angle. Finally I stopped posing and slipped the new dress over my head. The sequins glittered in the light. The dress looked beautiful. It felt pleasantly silky against my body, caressed my skin. The low-cut bodice showed the swell of my breasts. I adjusted the dress as best I could, then combed my hair and put on fresh lipstick.
"You look fine," the man called Mr. Rolfe said when I came out. He had his camera equipment set up in the main aisle. He asked me to turn around. "I want to be sure everything's just right," he said. "Very nice," he kept saying as I turned slowly, very nice... a perfect fit almost." He stepped forward and did something to my hair. I could see the slight shadow of beard on his chin, his white teeth.
He stepped back and gazed at me for a moment, then opened a black case and took out two small discs of foam. He startled me by inserting the discs one at a time between my breasts and bra. My nipples rose at his touch. But he acted nonchalant about it, professional. In a moment his hands were gone. He smiled then for the first time. "Don't get me wrong... you have fine breasts," he said. "But for the pics I want to give you a little extra lift... an all-American girl look."
"Oh... "
"The left pad's a bit high," he said. He reached back inside my bra and adjusted the foam disc he'd placed over my breast. I shuddered all over, but he just kept talking about the pictures and the ad and about how he thought this was the most stylish dress the Bruce Company had put out in years.
Once everything was ready, he took the pictures quickly. He said that he'd select the best picture and that it'd be in Sunday's paper. He thanked me, very impersonally.
Mr. Peabody came out of his office. "Well, how did it go?" he asked, smiling broadly.
"All right, I think," I said.
"Perfect," Mr. Rolfe said. I liked the crisp way he said it.
The men then turned to talk to each other. I excused myself and started for the dressing room, wishing I didn't have to take off the beautiful dress.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sunday morning I was up at dawn to get the paper. I took the top one from the stack in the lobby and paged through it quickly. I found the ad, in color which I hadn't expected. They'd used the first picture he'd taken -the one with me standing slightly at an angle with one hand on a hip. I studied my breasts. They looked very natural. No one would ever guess about the pads. I kept looking at the picture of myself in the gold and green dress. I bought a half-a-dozen copies of the paper, wondering how much extra Mr. Peabody would pay me, how well he would like the ad.
When I got back to my room I opened the papers one by one to the page with the ad and spread them out on the bed. I sat there for a long time staring at the six pictures of myself, daydreaming, imagining myself a famous model or an actress. Going into fancy nightclubs wearing the beautiful gold dress. Everyone turning to stare.
"That's the one," I could hear them say.
"She."
"Yes." Mr. Rolfe introduced me to a lot of people. I stood on a stage in front of a crowd turning slowly around and everyone applauded. I walked through the crowd to a table, Mr. Rolfe holding my arm. I drank champagne and everyone going by stared at us. I floated, soared high. Everyone stood aside to watch while I danced.
The next day at work Mr. Peabody suggested that I wear the gold dress while waiting on customers. Then, as if on a generous impulse, he gave it to me to keep. He smiled broadly and seemed very happy. The other girls all complimented me on the dress and the ad but I could detect jealous sparks in some of their voices. I didn't care. I was on a cloud. I floated from customer to customer all day.
"Oh, you're the girl in the newspaper," one lady said. "The dress looks so lovely on you."
"Quite dazzling."
"Isn't it something that they have the actual model selling the dresses too?" And so on. We sold six of the dresses that day, most of them in gold. I'm afraid it all started to go to my head.
But the daydream ended quickly. In my paycheck I received only an extra ten dollars. The adulation died down too. After the first few days, the customers seldom mentioned the ad. I looked in next Sunday's paper, hoping it might be in again, but it wasn't. I got out the newspapers from the week before again and spread them out on the bed. I tried on the dress in front of the mirror, but there was nothing I could do to make it all come back.
"Nancy, have you seen it? In the Trade Journal?" It was Mary Howe, one of the other sales clerks. She sounded excited.
"Seen what?"
"The ad you were in... the dress. It's in the Journal. Look."
I saw myself in a full-page spread. "Gee, you're right," I said. "I didn't have any idea it was going to be in."
"Look, it gives your name too."
"... you're kidding," I said, taking the magazine, from her. I tried to get it all in focus. My name jumped out at me. Modeled by Miss Nancy Thorpe of Blue River the ad said. I could hardly believe it... the picture... my name in print like that. In a national magazine, the monthly journal of the women's apparel trade.
A few days later a check for two hundred dollars from the Bruce Company arrived for me in the mail. With it was a nice letter signed by one of the vice-presidents. I was ecstatic. I cashed the check in for ten twenty-dollar bills at the bank. I sat on my bed and counted them over and over. I kept rubbing my fingers over the money. It was good money. I liked the way it felt. I tried on the gold dress again. I didn't feel like staying in my room. Impulsively I called a fellow who worked in the stockroom at Nelson's and asked him if his offer to take me out was still open. His name was Bill. I'd been turning him down regularly for weeks. I hadn't been out with anyone since that terrible night with the blue-eyed man at the Knickerbocker Hotel.
But now I wanted to go out. It wasn't that I needed a man. I was still down on them, but I wanted to dance. To ride in a car. To have someone hold open a door for me. I felt too happy tonight to waste it in my room.
I wore the gold dress and we went out to several bars. We drank Manhattans and danced. Afterwards we went for a ride in his car and parked along the river. I was giddy from the Manhattans and the excitement of the day. I let my tongue dart into his mouth-when he kissed me. His hands moved quickly to my breasts.
"Just a minute," I said. "I'd hate to tear my dress." I unzipped the back so that his hand could slip in easily. It was exciting having a man hold me there again. He put his other hand beneath my skirt. I separated my thighs and his fingers moved under my panties to my pussy. He stroked my bud and I felt the excitement build quickly. It had been so long since I'd been touched there. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. I pressed my pussy hard against his hand and I came. I gripped the hard bulge in his trousers, then unzipped them and stroked his cock. It felt good to hold the warm throbbing length of him.
We sat there petting each other for a long time. I hiked my dress up high to keep it from getting wrinkled or spotted. His fingers were gentle rubbing my pussy. I knew he was surprised that it had gone so quickly, without my resisting, but I didn't care. I was enjoying myself completely for the first time in weeks.
He pressed me down onto the seat and moved on top of me. He rubbed his cock against my thigh a few inches from my pussy. Then I realized suddenly that I didn't want him to fuck me. I just wanted him to rub my cunt. Just wanted to stroke his cock with my hand. Nothing more. I didn't understand my feeling completely-I only knew that I didn't want his cock inside me. What I wanted was just this-a man's fingers stroking my wet pussy lips and bud, the firm feeling of holding a cock in my hand.
We kept fondling each other. I let my fingertips run lightly against the wrinkled swollen sac that held his balls. He tried again to move the head of his prick to my cunt lips. I held him off. "Not that," I said. "Just keep loving me."
"But we can't stop now," he said urgently.
"Just rub me," I said. "Your hand feels so good."
He kept trying to get his cock inside me. The tip of it was now rubbing against the curls of hair at the edge of my panties. He tugged at my panties. I held him off but at the same time kept stroking his cock. The skin at the tip was stretched so taut it felt as if he were about to burst. I could hear the distress in his breathing. I was surprised to find myself almost enjoying his frustration as he struggled to get inside me. I kept my thighs pressed together while sliding my hand over his penis. In the darkness I imagined it as swollen purple. I felt myself coming again. It thrilled me, excited me to rise higher and higher to a climax while at the same time holding his cock off from me.
But he kept forcing himself closer. I knew I couldn't hold him off much longer. His stronger legs were gradually wedging mine apart. He managed to get my thighs separated almost enough for him to enter me. He pulled my panties aside. I began to pump his cock more rapidly. I knew that the only way to stop it from happening was to make him come before he could get his cock into me. I rubbed my thumb hard against the big moist tip and stroked his balls with my other hand. His prick was almost against the lips of my pussy now. I kept rubbing him, jacking him. His breaths grew short. I knew he was about to come. He pushed toward my cunt. I held him back. I jerked his cock rapidly. "Mmm you feel so good," I said. "So big... so hard."
That set him off. I could feel him beginning to spurt against my hand. I was careful to keep it from getting on my dress. He made a last desperate attempt to get inside me, but it was too late. He was shooting all over me and I felt myself coming again too. I pulled his cock down against my clitoris. His last spurts bathed my bud and trickled down between the outer folds of my vagina. He collapsed on top of me, his cock now spent and soft. Harmless now, only gentle against me.
He didn't have much to say as we rode back toward my hotel a few minutes later. I could sense his anger but pretended not to notice. I hummed a tune, talked about what a beautiful summer night it was. He didn't answer back and I didn't really care. It had been all that I needed. I found myself enjoying his annoyance.
"You sure know how to tease, don't you?" he said finally. He didn't look at me. His voice was bitter.
"Really?" I said with indifference.
"Yes, really," he said sourly.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you? You finished. That was what you wanted."
"Not that way," he said. He paused, then went on. "I can't understand your letting me get so close, then stopping me. I don't get it at all."
"That's too bad," I said. "It was fine I thought."
"Are you always that way about it?"
"About what?"
"You know what."
"No, you'll have to explain it to me," I said. I found myself toying with him now, manipulating him. Manipulating Dave's father, Richard Southland, the blue-eyed man who'd forced his penis into my mouth. All of them. I savored it. It made me feel more important than any of them. A goddess in the golden dress.
He didn't answer. He just kept driving. But as he pulled up in front of my hotel, he suddenly blurted out that he'd like to take me out again, Tuesday. The frustration wasn't quite gone out of his voice. "Well, how about it?" he said irritably when I didn't answer right away.
I played coy. "I don't know," I said. "It all depends."
"Depends on what?"
"You know... on whether you'll be willing to go only as far as I want to?"
"That again?"
"Probably. Who knows? A person can't say anything for sure."
He replied with an exasperated grunt. But I knew I still had the upper hand. I knew that he was eager for me, that his frustration only increased his desire. I'd never experienced a feeling of power like this before and I enjoyed playing it for all it was worth. "Well," I said, my hand on the door handle, "made up your mind yet?"
"All right," he said.
"My way?"
He nodded.
"Good," I said. I reached out and grasped his penis through the material of his trousers. I squeezed it firmly. His hand dropped quickly to my thigh. I backed away and opened the door. "It's getting late," I said. "See you tomorrow at work." I could see the frustration, the near anger in his eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next time we went out, Bill was very considerate. He took me to dinner and he even bought me a small corsage. In the car afterwards he worked up to it slowly. I turned the tables on him suddenly by unzipping his trousers and getting out his penis before he even had his hand inside my bra. I could see the surprised look on his face. He pressed toward me immediately, reaching up under my skirt. I let go of his cock and backed away from him. "Let's just neck," I said.
"You're crazy," he said. There was a wild sound in his voice. I knew I was playing with fire, but it didn't worry me. I knew that I could always just give in.
Anyway it was fun. I pushed my tongue into his mouth. At the same time I fended off his grasping hands. We arm-wrestled for a few minutes. I could tell that he was about to give it up.
I turned everything around again on him suddenly. "Should I take off my blouse and bra?" I asked. I could see a dumbfounded look cross his face. Without waiting for his answer, I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and peeled it off, then my bra. I drew his hands to my breasts. "Wouldn't you like to feel me?" I asked. His hands moved eagerly against me. I kissed his neck, his cheek, his ear. I pressed the wet tip of my tongue to his ear lobe. "Why don't you take them in your mouth... my nipples," I whispered.
With almost animal fury he began sucking, but he was careful about his teeth. I pulled his hand up under my skirt and drew the crotch of my panties aside to make room for his fingers. He rubbed my cunt hard while sucking my nipples. I gripped his cock and began pumping him rapidly until I could tell by the tenseness of his body that he was about to come. Then I lay back suddenly and spread my thighs and pulled him down on top of me. I drew his cock toward my pussy. I still had on my panties. I stroked him harder. I could feel the come begin to spurt against my legs. He fought to get inside me before it was over, but my panties were in the way and he didn't make it.
I pulled back the crotch of my panties just as he finished coming. He pressed his cock against the lips of my pussy, but he never got inside. It was all over for him. My mound and pussy lips were warm with his thick come. I came too, not violently, but pleasantly enough. It lasted a long time. I felt strangely exhilarated. Between the two of us I was still a virgin. It was a game and I had won again. I enjoyed the feeling of it being all over, of having conquered him again. I'd kept the upper hand-not lost it as with the others.
When he finally spoke, his voice didn't sound angry, just resigned. "You still a virgin or something?" he asked. I heard him zip up his pants.
I laughed. "What d'you think?"
"I don't know... "
"Guess."
"I don't want to guess."
"Guess anyway."
He gave in. "All right," he said. "I'll say you must be-the way you act. Technically at least."
"You're wrong."
"You're not, then?"
"Of course not, silly." He looked as if he were getting angry. I kissed his cheek. "How many do you think?"
"How many what?"
"Men," I said. "How many men do you think have fucked me?" I felt daring.
"I don't know," he said. "Three maybe. Four. How should I know?"
"Guess again."
"More?"
"Uh huh."
"Ten?"
"Still wrong. Shall I tell you?"
"Yes."
"I don't know how many."
"Huh?"
"That's right. Somewhere around forty or fifty I think. But I stopped counting. So I really don't know exactly."
"That many men have slept with you?"
"Uh huh."
"You're kidding."
"No."
"You let them all the way in you mean? Not like me?"
"Mmm hmmn. All the way in."
"I don't get it. Why not me then?" He sounded bewildered.
"I just quit, that's all."
"I don't get you."
"I just didn't feel like doing it anymore."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of."
"Not to let everybody screw me? Why?"
"It's just crazy. You talk about it like it was the same as giving up smoking or drinking or something like that."
"Isn't it?"
"Of course not. I don't understand you at all." He seemed angry now. He shook his head. "From now on you can just find someone else to tease. The hell with it. I'm getting off."
"You mean you aren't going to ask me out anymore?" I said with mock distress.
He shook his head again.
I unzipped his pants. "You want me to hold your cock again? Rub it?"
"No."
I stroked it anyway. "It's not getting very hard," I said.
"What d'you expect! We just finished a minute ago."
"That's too bad. I thought maybe you wanted to fuck me."
"Now?"
"Mmm hmmn."
"You're kidding, aren't you?"
"No. But you're not ready now anyway." I let go of his cock and started to put my bra back on.
He pulled my hand back to his prick. It was quickly getting hard now, swelling. I pulled away again. "No, not now, I guess. I've changed my mind. Maybe some other time. If you decide to take me out again, that is. Are you going to?"
"Why not now?" he pressed.
"I just don't want to."
"Next time... tomorrow night?" He was biting his lip.
"Maybe. I won't make any promises."
"First you say one thing, then another. You're just a teaser, aren't you?"
"I don't know... not if I've been fucked by fifty men, do you think?"
He shrugged.
"Are you going to take me out again then?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Tomorrow night?"
"Yes... "
"All right, good. But I'd better be getting home now," I said. "It's late. I don't want to come to work all red-eyed tomorrow." I gave the bulge in his trousers a playful pat. "Take me home now," I said. "All right?"
A few weeks later the ad made Life. I was flabbergasted. There I was-half a page tall in the gold dress. The All-American Girl Look, the caption read. I remembered how the man who'd taken the picture-Mr. Rolfe-had used that phrase. I sat for a full five minutes just staring at myself on the slick white paper. It was almost too much. I wanted to shout it out, tell the world. I could almost see myself swinging across the pages. I was somebody now. Really somebody...
Things moved fast from then on. There was a big fuss, of course, down at the store. Mr. Peabody kept hopping around, putting copies of the magazine on every counter in the store. He had a blow-up of the ad made and put it in the front window. He made a sign beneath which read, Our Ail-American Girl. I received a lot of phone calls. But the one that counted was from the Touchant Modeling Agency in New York. Could I fly in for a couple of days? the male voice on the telephone asked. To discuss the possibility of my modeling full-time with their agency.
My heart leaped. I said yes. Mr. Peabody frowned at first when I told him. But then his frown changed to a smile. He wished me luck. Bill wasn't so understanding. We'd made a date for the night I planned to leave and he was angry when I broke it. I couldn't really blame him. The Saturday night before I'd half promised that next time I'd finally let him get all the way into me. I felt a little sorry about the way I'd teased him. But none of that mattered now. Everything that counted lay ahead.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I took a late afternoon flight and arrived at the big airport after dark. There were bright floodlights all about the field? Airplanes and taxis and people were moving everywhere. The roar of the big jets hurt my ears. I thought the wind from one of them would blow me over. Someone from the modeling agency met me at the airport-a girl. I was a little disappointed in that at first. I'd expected a man. Tina Lee, she said her name was. She was exceptionally pretty. Tall and dark-haired, a few years older than I. She was slender but had full breasts. She worked with the models and did some modeling herself, she said. She said she thought Touchant's was the best agency in New York. I drank it all in.
"It's awfully nice of you to come to meet me," I said. "Just part of my job," she said. I liked being with her.
We took a taxi downtown. I'd never been in New York before. The sight of the big buildings stretching up overwhelmed me but I took to it at once-the traffic, the noise, the crowds streaming everywhere. The neon. The constant honking of the horns. The night sky lit so bright it looked like day.
We got out at a hotel where Tina said they'd made a reservation for me. I checked in at the front desk and we rode the elevator up. She gave the bellhop a dollar tip. She laughed when I protested. "It's not out of my pocket," she said. "Everything's on Touchant's tonight."
I unpacked my dresses and hung them carefully in the closet.
"Oh, there's the one you modeled,"' Tina said. "In the ad that was in Life. Let me see it."
I held it out toward her, smoothing away the wrinkles. "My lucky dress I guess."
"It's lovely material," she said, touching it. "Bruce always puts out top quality." She smiled. "Say, why don't you try it on for me?"
"Now?"
"Why not? We're in no hurry. I'll show you around town afterwards if you want. We could hit some of the spots. All on the good old expense account, of course."
"Sounds like fun," I said. "Maybe I should wear the dress. It seems to be bringing me luck so far." I unbuttoned my suit jacket, then slipped it off and started on the blouse.
Tina was very pleasant. Poised. Sophisticated. She had a husky voice. Slender hips. It was nice to be able to talk with someone who seemed to be on the inside of everything. She made me feel comfortable.
I draped my blouse over my suit jacket on the back of a chair. I wasn't wearing a slip. My new low-cut bra covered only half of my breasts and my nipples were almost poking out, but I didn't feel at all embarrassed standing like that in front of her. She seemed so cool, detached. I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it.
The blond curls of my mound pushed out against my panties. I reached for the gold dress.
"You have a beautiful figure," Tina said. "Really quite perfect. You don't need help anywhere."
"That's not what the fellow who took the picture for the ad thought," I confessed laughing. "He added some padding in my bra."
"Jack Rolfe from Bruce you mean. He's very good but don't let that bother you. Even if you were a forty-two, he'd put in bust cups. A lot of the photographers do. I guess they think that when a woman sees that kind of a figure in an ad, she gets the idea that the dress will do the same for her."
"Oh... "
"Don't put the dress on yet. Turn around so I can see the rest of you."
I hesitated.
"Just one time. Wait 'til tomorrow at the agency, they'll have you turning every way."
I began to turn slowly.
"Hold it there a minute," she said when my buttocks were facing her. I heard her walk across the carpet toward me, then felt her hands light against my hips, barely touching me. Her touch felt strange... tantalizing somehow... created a teasing pressure.
Her hands moved away from me. She stepped back. "You might be a trifle full in the hips," she said. "Touchant's likes its models slender there... almost too slim I think. Don't let it worry you though. They'll take care of that right away with a vibrator. Well, you might as well put the dress on now. We probably should get going."
We walked down Forty-second Street, past the theatre marquees, under neon lights. It was exciting for me. I'd never seen anything like it. The crowds. The traffic...
We stopped into a small bar and had a drink. It was crowded, noisy. We sipped our drinks and listened to the four-piece combo. Tina laughed and talked about everything. Finally we left and took a cab to another bar across town. It was quiet inside compared to the other. The decor was blue, cool. The customers talked almost in whispers. The band played slow romantic songs. Some of the customers were dancing. Tina kept time with the music, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. Our booth was small and our knees brushed occasionally when one of us crossed or uncrossed her legs. The touch of Tina's skin on mine felt strange, a painless stab that shot all through me. But I didn't think much about it. I was enjoying the drinks and her company. I felt warm. A little lightheaded. I watched the couples gliding slowly across the dance floor. "It's too bad we don't have dates," I said. "It'd be nice to dance."
"Why don't we anyway?"
"You and me?"
"Uh huh."
I laughed. "That'd look funny, wouldn't it... two girls?"
"Not here," she said. "Girls dance together here all the time." She pointed out several pairs of girls dancing among the couples. "Come on," she said. "Let's."
I didn't really want to dance with Tina but she was persuasive. I felt kind of obligated anyway, since she was buying the drinks and all. "All right," I said finally.
We made our way to the dance floor. Tina put her arm around my back and took my hand. We began to dance slowly. It felt odd dancing with another girl but I was relaxed from the drinks and after a few minutes it seemed a natural thing to do. When the music stopped, Tina kept holding my hand. She asked if I was having a good time. I nodded. The music started up again. This time she held me closer. Her breasts pushed against mine. I could feel her nipples jabbing into me. A strangely pleasant sensation spread all through me.
Dimly I realized that this was all intentional, that she wanted the touch of my body against hers, but I didn't mind. I was warm and happy from the drinks and from being with her. We started dancing with out cheeks pressed tight together. Her breasts melted into mine and our thighs kept rubbing as we drifted across the floor. None of the men at the bar came to cut in. I noticed that the other girls dancing together were pressing close against each other too. Occasionally I saw one of them glance our way. I felt the pressure of Tina's firm but yielding body constantly against mine.
"Let's go," she said suddenly between dances. "It's getting late."
"All right," I said.
I knew when we entered my hotel room that something was going to happen. My nipples ached and tingled more than they had in months. I liked being with Tina. She had a way of making me feel she'd been a close friend all my life. I could hardly believe I'd known her only a few hours.
"You don't mind if I stay awhile, do you?" she asked.
"No."
"I just don't feel like going back to my apartment right now. It's so damned lonesome there."
I sat on the edge of the big double bed, crossed my legs and kicked off my shoes. Tina sat opposite me in an easy chair. We chatted about nothing in particular for several minutes. I said it had been awfully nice of her to show me around. She said I shouldn't thank her, she'd enjoyed it. Occasionally I noticed her glancing at my legs. That made me feel warm all over, made my nipples ache more.
"I'll get some music on," she said. "We could dance again. Want to?"
"If you do... "
"I'll see what I can find." She turned on the radio and tuned in some dance music. She turned the volume so low I could barely hear it. Then she came toward me slowly, smiling. She looked very lovely. She extended her hands and I took them in mine. She leaned toward me, pressing her flat stomach against my cheek. "Shall we now?" she asked. "Dance?"
I nodded and stood in front of her. Her breasts pushed lightly against mine. She drew me slowly to the middle of the room.
"Shall we take off our dresses first?" she asked. She smiled pleasantly and her teeth gleamed white. "We'd be more comfortable... cozier. Besides it's kind of hot in here... stuffy."
"It is a little, isn't it... stuffy?"
"Shall we then?"
"Just our dresses though."
"Yes."
"All right then... " I said. I watched as she unbuttoned her dress and lifted it off. I began unbuttoning mine.
I stood in my bra and panties. Tina was wearing a slip. "We should both be dressed the same, don't you think," she said, pulling it off over her head. We stepped toward each other. She looked very slender and pretty in her underthings. Her breasts were full, her nipples rigid. I could see the duskiness of her mound beneath her panties. A few dark curls peeked out around the edges. Her stomach looked flat and smooth. I felt her arm slide around my back. She nuzzled her face in against the side of my neck.
We began dancing slowly to the music, not moving much. Just raising our feet slightly and putting them down again. She kissed my cheek, my eyelids. She took the lobe of my ear between her teeth, bit it a little and pressed it with the tip of her tongue.
The ache in my pussy grew and my body tingled all over. It seemed incredible that I could get worked up like this just from being with another girl. I knew that we should stop, but the feeling of excitement was stronger, and as we stood there pushing against each other I felt I didn't care about anything except the touch of her body on mine. I arched my back slightly as I pushed my pussy against hers. I wished that our panties weren't in the way. My leg bumped the side of the bed. We stopped moving and sat down, still clinging to each other.
We lay back on the bed and stretched out facing each other. Tina gently smoothed my hair. "You're very beautiful," she said. "They'll sign you to a contract for sure."
"You really think so?"
"Yes... you're perfect," she said. Her hand slid down over my neck, my shoulder. She rubbed her fingertips lightly across the thin material of my bra and pressed one of my nipples tenderly. "Do you like to have me touch you like this?" she asked.
"I don't know... I think so," I said. "It's different. Do you do this a lot with girls?"
"No... not really," she said. "Usually I go just for men. I'm not queer or anything like that. At least I don't think so. It's just that once in a while you meet someone, another girl even, and you just want to touch her, hold her. Does that make sense?"
"Yes... "
"Do you feel the same way?"
"I must. A little at least. Otherwise I wouldn't be doing this,"
"Would you like to touch me too?"
"Maybe. I'm not sure. I'd have to try it."
"Shall we take off the rest of our things first?"
"Our panties too?"
"Mmm hmmn. If you want to."
"I think so... "
We helped each other off with our bras and panties. Tina's pussy looked moist and pink beneath the wispy curls of dark hair. Our breasts crushed together. I pushed my cunt hard against hers and the hungry aching feeling spread all through me. I longed for more of her. I felt her hand move slowly up my thighs. I felt her fingers gently separate my pussy lips, then felt the light stroking motion of her fingertips against my skin. It was almost too much to take. I thought that any moment I would explode...
"Like me to do that?" she asked.
"Yes... oh, yes... "
"Want to do it to me?"
"Yes... " I said. I moved my hand across her firm mound, over the soft moist hairs, to the velvet lips of her pussy, and slipped a finger between them. It seemed strange to touch her there. I hesitated.
"Don't stop," she said. "Keep rubbing me." Her voice was hoarse, urgent. I stroked her cunt harder and her body danced wildly beneath my hand. I pressed my fingertips against her bud. She was coming now, I could sense it. She took my nipple in her mouth, sucked it, bit it. She kept rubbing my pussy as I caressed hers. She drew my tongue deep into her mouth and sucked it. The spasms began to shake my body just as hers subsided. I climbed. Higher. Everything was exquisite... soft... tender...
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The next day at Touchant's was a whirlwind. They measured me in every possible direction, and took so many photographs they must have used a mile of film. I tried on at least a dozen different dresses. But late in the morning I ran into Tina in the hall while crossing from one studio to another. She winked at me as she passed. Two middle-aged men took me to lunch and talked about contracts, percentages, fees. I knew things were going well.
In the afternoon there were more pictures and interviews. Then a long wait sitting in a tiny but elaborately furnished room in which I had nothing to do but smoke and skim magazines and stare at the walls. Finally I was called into a big office where the two men who'd taken me to lunch sat behind a long mahogany conference table. They were smiling broadly. "We're offering you a contract," one of them said. "Four hundred a week guaranteed."
The papers were a blur in front of my eyes when I signed them. I'd never really expected anything like this. It was more than I'd ever dreamed I could make just from having my picture taken and walking around in beautiful clothes. "We'll look forward to seeing you next Monday then, Miss Thorpe," one of them said.
I had just five days to clear up everything in Blue River. Everyone at the store congratulated me except Mr. Peabody. He didn't seem at all pleased. But when someone mentioned that now he could advertise that one of his girls had gone on to a successful modeling career in New York, his face lit up. He waddled quickly to his office, head up like a goose. When I stopped by ten minutes later to get my final paycheck, he was already busy at his desk working on the ad.
I went home to see my folks for a day before leaving for New York. They couldn't believe my salary, but they seemed happy. My father mentioned that he hoped I'd continue with my schooling. My mother warned me about what kind of people to associate with in New York. "Some of them have very low standards out there," she said.
"I know, mother," I said. "I'll be careful."
When I got to New York, I took a taxi from the airport and checked into the same hotel I'd stayed at the week before. I planned to stay there only a few days while looking for an apartment. With my pay I'd be able to afford a nice one. I ran into Tina the first day at work. She suggested coffee and we went to a small restaurant around the corner. I told her about my plans for an apartment. She said it sounded like a fine idea but that it would take me days to find a good one. "Why don't you stay with me while you're looking," she said.
"It'll be terribly expensive where you're staying now. And you're not on an expense account this time either."
I hesitated to accept her offer. "Well, just for a few days," I said.
I moved my things over to Tina's that night. It was a large one-room efficiency. Very pretty. I was tired after the first day at Touchant's, mostly from the tension of wanting to make a good impression I think. When Tina offered to make a drink, I begged off, saying that if I didn't get to bed right away I might just collapse on the floor. She looked disappointed but said she understood. I flopped on one of the twin beds without bothering to undress. The mattress was firm and very comfortable. The pillow was soft. I dozed off almost immediately.
I woke to the warmth of Tina's breath on my cheek. "You awake?" I heard her whisper.
"Mmm hmmmn... "
"Mind if I snuggle up next to you for a while?"
I sighed noncommittally. Her hand moved quickly between my thighs. I raised my hips as she slipped off my panties. She stroked my pussy for a while, then I heard her shift her position on the bed. I opened my eyes but could see only her legs. It took me a moment to realize what was happening. Then I felt her mouth suddenly brush against the moist lips of my vagina. Her tongue darted between them and she licked me. My body danced involuntarily beneath her kiss. My orgasm was quick and violent. I felt I couldn't get close enough to her. I loved the smooth touch of her skin.
Her cunt was sweet. The skin there was moist, very soft. There was a pleasant musky smell about her, mixed with the fragrance of just a trace of perfume. I took her pussy lips deeper into my mouth, sucked them and chewed them lightly. I dipped deep into her with my tongue. The more I kissed her, the more I wanted her. I explored her pussy from her bud all the way back to where her sex lips ended. I took her bud deep into my mouth and sucked it. It was so pleasant kissing another girl like this. No thickness to gag you, no worries about a sudden explosion in your mouth. So soft... so delicate. We were in a sixty-nine position and we both kept coming again and again. I felt the sudden brief shudder of her body every few minutes and I tried to time my orgasms to coincide with hers. There was no letdown at all when they ended. Instead, the excitement kept building.
After twenty minutes or so the tantalizing pressure became almost unendurable. Then I suddenly felt myself rising to a peak higher than any of the others. My climax went on and on, building, intensifying. The two of us were far removed from everything, everyone, now drifting floating warm in the sun a sandy beach the waves sucking gently at the shore no birds at all only the sand and the water and the puffy white clouds cooling the heat of the sun the two of us alone wet throbbing against each other melting into each other...
I didn't have much time for apartment hunting that first week. My job kept me busy and it was tiring. I loved trying on all the beautiful clothes, though- everything from formals to swim suits. The photographers were very polite, professional. I received many hours of instruction on modeling, some of it from Tina. She told me that soon I'd be working in fashion shows at conventions and at the downtown stores.
Tina didn't climb into bed with me every night. It was an irregular thing with us. I could always tell when it was going to happen though. She would mix two drinks and bring one to me, smiling her warm pleasant smile. It would begin then slowly and build up and would go on for hours until we were both completely spent. I never turned her down. Sometimes when she didn't start, I'd suggest that maybe it would be nice if she made drinks.
Tina startled me one evening by announcing that she had a date. "I told you before that I go for men too," she explained, apparently noticing my surprise. "I don't want to change anything between us but I hope you don't mind my going out."
"Of course not," I said. "I just didn't expect it."
"Say," she went on, "this guy I'm going out with has a friend who's very nice-I've met him. Shall I call up and see if we can make it a foursome?"
"Sounds great," I said.
She made the arrangements and the four of us went out to dinner. Afterwards we danced and watched the floor show. My date's name was Bob. He was rather quiet but pleasant. I knew he liked me, but he didn't try to pull me close when we danced. And walking out to the car he didn't take my hand. I began to wonder if he'd even kiss me goodnight.
But I didn't have to worry about that. When Tina's date parked the car, Bob was all over me like an octopus. He was at my breasts and between my thighs before he'd even kissed me. I felt almost as if I were being attacked. I fought him off and he grumbled something about me being a cold fish and moved as far away from me as he could. He sat staring out the window. It was all kind of silly of him because I'd been ready for a little loving too. But he'd ruined it by trying to force me. I couldn't stand that.
I listened to the sounds of Tina and her date making love in the front seat. The sounds of them kissing. Of snaps being unsnapped. Of zippers being unzipped. Tina climbed on top of her date and sat on his lap. I could see the motion of her head and shoulders in the darkness as she rode him up and down. I could hear the sucking sounds of their bodies. Tina's hair danced wildly. I heard her small gasp of delight as she came.
I felt left out-frustrated. I wouldn't have made love with Bob but I'd looked forward to a little kissing... a little feeling. Instead I was sitting in the darkness with my pussy wet, listening to and watching Tina being fucked not five feet away.
The next time Tina and I went out in a foursome, she was with a different fellow-Ted something or other. My date was a photographer at Touchant's named Don. He was quite handsome and had a good smile. I liked the way he laughed.
It must have been after midnight when Tina suggested we all go back to her apartment for drinks. Tina's date made cocktails while she put a stack of records, on the record player. She turned the lights down low. We kicked off our shoes and began to dance.
It was dreamy, romantic music and after a few minutes Tina and Ted sat on the edge of one of the beds, then lay back and started necking. Don and I ended up on the sofa opposite the bed. He kissed me and I pressed myself to him. I glanced up and saw that Tina's skirt was pulled up over her thighs, Ted atop her. The light was dim but I could see her hand fondling the front of his trousers. I pressed Don's hand to my breasts and pushed my leg tight against his. I could see Tina now unzipping Ted's pants, then the slim whiteness of his penis in her hand. With her other hand she pulled aside her panties so that he could enter her.
I saw their bodies slide together, then one of them pulled up the edge of the bedspread so that they were covered from the waist down. As they moved against each other, the bedspread slipped off and I could see Tina's thighs and pussy naked, beneath the driving of Ted's cock. Don's hand was inside my bra now. I didn't even remember how it got there. I was too turned on from watching Tina and her date. I felt myself coming. I didn't know whether it was from the touch of Don's hand or from the excitement of seeing Tina and Ted fucking on the bed. I gripped Don's penis through the thick material of his trousers. I felt his hand move under my skirt. His fingers reached my cunt, slipped into me. He pushed me back on the sofa and started to unzip his pants.
"No... not that far," I said.
"Don't you want to?"
"Not all the way. Just touch, each other."
"They are," he whispered, nodding at the bed.
"That doesn't mean we have to. Besides, they've known each other longer. We've barely met except for just seeing each other at work."
"That shouldn't make any difference."
"It does though."
"How long would you have to know me?"
"I don't know. It would just depend... "
"You aren't a virgin, are you?"
"No... of course not."
He reached again for my pussy and slipped his fingers in deep. I stroked his cock as well as I could through his half-unzipped trousers. He unzipped them the rest of the way and pulled my hand to his bare skin. I stroked it, at first slowly, then faster. I could feel the pressure of his fingertips increase against the walls of my cunt. His cock grew slick, slippery. My pussy was wet, throbbing, clinging to his fingers and I felt I was about to come. Don tried to move his cock to my pussy but I held him off. "All right if I finish on your leg?" he groaned.
"Yes... " I whispered. "Let me pull back my skirt first so we don't spot it."
I felt his penis throbbing between my fingers, heard the sounds of Tina and her boyfriend coming, felt myself coming violently as Don's fingers stroked me, felt his cock shooting against my thighs. At the last moment I wished he were inside me instead, but it was better this way. This was all that I had wanted and I was glad I hadn't given in.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After our dates left, Tina and I tidied the room. "Sorry we ended up on your bed," she said. She laughed. "I didn't plan it that way. We were dancing and it just sort of happened. I hope you weren't embarrassed."
"No. I didn't mind."
"I tried to cover a little with the bedspread but it fell off. How did you like Don?"
"Fine. He was much nicer than Bob."
"I'm glad. I was so involved I didn't notice how the two of you were doing."
"We did all right. Not all the way though. He finished on my leg."
"That's too bad."
"It wasn't his fault. That's the way I wanted it."
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh... "
We chatted for a few more minutes about the evening. I felt sleepy and kept holding back a yawn. "Hey, I know." Tina said suddenly, "should I make us a nightcap?"
Her question startled me. I couldn't believe that she'd want me now after we'd just finished with the men. "I don't know," I said. "I'd thought I might take a bath. I feel kind of sticky on my legs."
"From Don?"
"Uh huh."
"Why don't we take one together. I always like to wash up afterwards too. Makes me feel new and fresh. Then when we're finished I'll make us a nightcap." She smiled her warm sensual smile.
My nipples stood out. I heard my heart begin to thud. I was surprised at my reacting this way after having just come with Don on the sofa. But the thought of taking a bath with Tina sent shivers all through me.
I ran the tub full of water while Tina gathered towels and washcloths and brought in our nightgowns. We undressed. Her breasts looked firm and round and beautifully white. Her pink nipples poked out taut. Her whole body looked soft, creamy, delicious.
She clutched my arm while she stuck her toes in the water. "Oooh, it's hot," she said. "Why don't you run in a little more cold?"
"I like my bath hot," I said.
"Okay, I'll try, but I'll bet I turn as red as a lobster."
We sat facing each other in the tub. It was cramped and we had to sit with our knees raised, with her legs outside mine. Sitting like that spread the lips of her pussy so that I could see deep between their pinkness in the clear water. The faucet kept digging into my back and I had to slide closer to her.
"You really don't have much hair there, do you?" she said. "Maybe it just looks that way because you're so blond. I'll bet men like it."
"I don't think it makes much difference to them."
"But it shows the rest of you so much better... your skin there. Me, I just look like a black tangle of hair."
"Not now."
She glanced down at her pussy. The pink lips were pouting. She laughed. "I guess not. But that's just because of the way I'm sitting. Shall we wash each other?"
"Okay."
"Our breasts first?"
"If you want to... "
We soaped each other's breasts. Her fingertips teased my nipples. She must have felt me trembling. "Are you coming?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Just from that? You must have a short fuse."
"I guess so."
"Shall we wash each other's pussies now? Maybe I'll come then too."
"All right... yes... we don't need the washcloths for that either, do we?" I said.
"No. Just our hands."
"Yes."
"Mmmm... yes... touch me there now... deeper... inside. Ooh, I love that."
"Me too."
"Higher now... on the left... that's right, there... I'm coming now too."
We kept rubbing each other until the last spasms ended. Then we settled down to finishing our bath. I couldn't see Tina's vagina clearly anymore because the water was cloudy from the soap. I kept looking at her breasts wanting to caress them again, wanting her to caress mine, wanting to press my cunt up close to hers.
"I guess I'll get out now," I said and stood up. The water trickled down over my body. Tina relaxed on her elbows and gazed up at the wet blond thatch of hair between my thighs. The pressure of my wanting her grew.
Tina brought the nightcaps. We sat on my bed in our nightgowns and sipped them. We joked about who had the biggest breasts and compared them by looking through our almost sheer gowns. Finally we stripped the gowns off and tossed them on the floor. Tina cupped my bare breasts and lifted them up next to hers. Our nipples touched and it drove me crazy. Her breasts were a trifle larger than mine, the points a deeper pink. I wanted to bury my face in the smooth whiteness and I ached all over with the need for her. I set my glass down on the end table and drew her hand to my cunt. We fell back on the bed stroking each other.
She sucked my nipples while I kissed her hair, drinking in the fragrance of her perfume. I kept caressing her pussy, felt her fingers moving gently against mine. Our breasts crushed together... softness meeting softness... the tingling, the aching, scattering all through me...
Tina brushed my cheek with her lips, mouth open. "Is this as good as with Don?" she asked.
"I think so... yes."
"For me too. Better than with Ted."
"Better? Even though he fucked you?"
"Yes... yes... don't stop rubbing me. Mmmm, I love to have you touching me. Should I kiss you there now... your pussy?"
"Yes."
"Shall we do it to each other at the same time?"
"Yes... all right." I was exploding from the touch of her.
"With our tongues-deep inside?"
"Yes... now... let's do it now... "
It got to be a habit with us-going out together on double dates, then ending the evening by taking a bath and stroking and eating each other's cunts. Tina almost never went out with the same man more than once.
Whoever he was, she always let him screw her. Sometimes in a car, or in the park, usually in her apartment on one of the beds while I sat with my date on the couch opposite, fondling each other as we watched.
Harry had an especially big and thick cock I discovered as we sat watching Tina and a fellow named Joe Andrews screwing on my bed. Tina knelt on top of him, a few feet in front of us, riding the length of his penis rapidly. I could see her buttocks, the wet pink lips of her clinging cunt above her date's cock. I unzipped Harry's pants then and pulled out his prick. He already had his hand up under my skirt and beneath my panties. He moved his fingers more rapidly against my pussy skin now as I stroked his penis. I enjoyed it with him, the two of us watching the others. He pressed me back on the couch and tried hard to get his prick up into me.
I didn't let him. I hadn't let a man do that since the night the blue-eyed man had forced me to let him come in my mouth. Instead, I pumped his cock faster. He came on my thighs just as Tina reached her peak riding Joe in front of us. I came too, urgently, achingly. I could see the trickles of Joe's semen running back down the length of his cock and Tina's inner thighs. I could feel Harry's come warm and sticky against my own thighs. It was exciting with everything happening that way to everybody at the same time.
I never let my dates fuck me. I always pumped their cocks with my hand while we watched the others screw. I let them come on my thighs, or on my belly, or against my bare nipples, or between my breasts with my hands crushing them together. But I never let a man get his cock near my mouth. I hated even the thought of that. That was something I would do now only with Tina, much later, after our dates had gone home. It thrilled me to kiss her there, to let my tongue run along the soft lips of her vagina, probing deep in against the softness, then to take her bud into my mouth, sucking it lightly while she thrust her cunt up against me. But I liked to hold a cock in my hand, to stroke it, to feel it swell, to pump it until I felt the warm bursts against my skin.
I dated a lot of different men: photographers who asked me out after a session in front of the camera, men I met while modeling at the downtown stores, men I ran into while working at conventions. They were always a bit surprised at how easy it was to get their hands in my bra and panties-I never tried to stop that. But they always seemed even more surprised when I stopped them when they tried to get their pricks into me. I always enjoyed the feeling of power it gave me.
I went out one Friday night with the same fellow Tina had dated the week before. It was a funny feeling sitting on the couch fondling him and watching Tina fucking someone else on the same bed where I'd seen him with her a few nights earlier. His cock had excited me and I'd looked forward all evening to holding it in my own hand. I guess he thought that just because he'd screwed Tina he could automatically do the same to me. It upset him at first when he couldn't, but he got over that and we masturbated each other while we watched Tina and her new date pumping toward a climax on the bed.
It seemed to excite him when at the last moment I pulled his cock up to my mound and let him shoot into my puff of blond hair. It was especially nice with Tina afterwards that night. We took a shower instead of a bath and almost finished everything right there in the tub. Later we stood in the bedroom before getting into bed, rubbing our pussies together and sucking each other's tongues.
I loved it when we finally lay down and started eating each other. I came again and again as she licked the walls of my cunt. I loved the touch of her skin against mine, the taste of her, the musky fragrance of her cunt, the way she kept tenderly caressing me after it was over, the way her eyes sparkled and the way her lips curved beautifully when she smiled at me.
Everything went fine on my new job too. Most of the ads I posed for went over well. One of the photographers told me that soon a week wouldn't go by without my picture appearing in one of the slicks with national circulation. The nickname All American Girl started to catch on. The agency raised my weekly guarantee and there were extra bonuses for ads that went over especially well.
I was able to pay off all of my old bills and I put some money in the bank. I now had enough so that I didn't have to keep careful track of it. Occasionally I glanced through the want ads at the listings of quality apartments. But I stayed on with Tina, sharing the rent with her, never seriously thinking of moving out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Hello, this is Jack Rolfe."
I hesitated. "Who?"
"The photographer who took your picture in the gold dress. From the Bruce Company. In Blue River. Remember?"
"Oh, yes."
"You remember me then?"
"Certainly."
"Well, that takes care of that part anyway. I thought maybe you'd forgotten. The reason I called-I'd like to ask you out to dinner-you know, dancing, make the rounds. How about it?"
"I'd like to very much," I said. I recalled the cool teasing touch of his hand against my breasts as he'd slipped the small foam pads inside my bra. "When?"
"Tonight."
"That's pretty short notice."
"Are you busy?"
"No, but it'd take me awhile to get ready."
"How long?"
"I'm not sure. An hour maybe."
"Would eight be all right?"
"Yes."
"Fine, I'll stop by to pick you up then."
After he hung up, I took off my dress and stepped into the shower. I was glad Tina wasn't home yet. If she knew about it, she might want to make it a foursome. That wasn't what I wanted. Tonight I'd rather be alone with him.
The evening went pleasantly. We had cocktails and dinner and afterwards we danced and had more drinks. We talked about when he'd taken my photo for the ad and what it had led to for me, about how things had been for each of us since. It was nice being with him. What surprised me though was that he made no move toward me physically. He didn't hold my hand across the table. He didn't pull me up close when we danced. Even when he stopped the car in the park and turned off the motor, he didn't put his arm around me. He just looked out the window at the night. "It's a perfect evening, isn't it," he said. "If only you could capture the darkness of it in a picture."
He drove me home and walked me to the door, making no attempt to kiss me. I didn't try to coax him. I thought that for some reason he'd lost interest in me and was only courteously going through the motions.
But it was strange. The sense of his nearness overwhelmed me. Even though he was standing several feet away, I felt the imagined pressure of his touch, as if his arms were around me, as if his body was pushing up against mine. But he didn't seem to be paying much attention to me. I fully expected him just to say goodnight politely and leave then and go down the steps. Then, just as if it had never entered his mind to do anything else, he asked me to go out again.
"Tomorrow night?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Same time?"
"All right."
I felt the cool touch of his hand on mine for a moment, lightly. Then he was gone. We hadn't even really said goodnight.
It went the same way the next night. And the next. And every night after that for a week. He didn't try to touch me, never kissed me. But all the time I was with him I felt the constant overpowering pressure of his being near. And there was something about his gaze. Just the way he looked at me made me feel naked, made me feel I'd already been to bed with him.
I knew that it would happen, and that when the time came I wouldn't resist, but I didn't try to speed things along. I left it all to him. The pressure mounted each time we went out.
Then one night I knew that it was going to happen. Everything. I sensed it from the moment he picked me up. It was nothing more than a feeling until we left the bar where we'd been drinking.
"Would you like to come up to my room?" he said as he started the car. "Instead of going right home?" He stared across at me in the darkness.
"Yes," I said. "All right." It had been a simple question, direct. No suggestions about wanting to show me something there, not even that we would go up for a drink. He'd just asked me. And so I'd made my answer as clear as his question.
He had a tastefully furnished room on one of the top floors. He turned on only a small lamp as we came in. I went immediately to the window and looked down at the miniature automobiles and people moving along the threadlike streets below. I heard him coming quietly up behind me, across the carpet. Slowly. I waited. Then I felt his arms at last around me, clasping my waist. I felt the side of his face press smooth against my hair, my cheek, my ear.
I whirled to face him. He pressed his lips down hard against mine. Unhesitatingly he moved his hands to my breasts, cupped them, caressed them. I was floating, climbing, drifting at his touch.
"Shall I take of! your dress?" he asked.
"Yes."
He reached for my skirt.
"The buttons first," I said. "At the back."
"Oh," he said. He reached behind my back and started unfastening them. Together we slipped the dress over my head.
He seemed surprised that I had nothing on underneath except a bra and panties. He chuckled a little. "I thought you'd be wearing a slip," he said.
"Never in summer," I said. "Don't you like me this way?" I glanced down at myself. My bra and panties were new-very pale green and almost sheer.
"Yes, certainly," he said.
I felt his arms go around me, felt his hands slip beneath the waistband of my panties and down over my buttocks. I opened my mouth and our tongues met. Wet. Everything smooth and wet-my cunt, my thighs, now pressing against the hardness that pushed out his trousers. His chest crushed against my breasts. He slid his hand around over my hip to my pussy, moved a finger between my sex lips and pressed in... deeper... still deeper... stroking me...
I grasped the bulge at the front of his trousers and squeezed it. "Shall I unzip you?" I asked.
He murmured something I knew meant yes and kept stroking my cunt. I liked the way he touched me. Tantalizing. Exciting. I reached for the tab of his zipper and pulled down, very slowly. I reached in between the open threads and touched the bare, warm skin of his penis. I reached lower and felt the heavy weight of his balls. I pulled his prick up close to my cunt, felt the tip of it press against the thin material of my panties. I pulled the crotch of my panties aside and he pressed the head of his cock against the moist curly hairs. He pushed in between the soft wet skin and I pushed back, standing on my tiptoes to try to help him get in deeper. But he only penetrated me about an inch. I wanted more of him. I hadn't been with a man like this for so long. Everything else seemed somewhere back in the distant past Tina... the rest of them... a part of another time. Now there was only Jack, the wet hard thickness of his cock pressing in against the soft yielding skin of my cunt. But I wanted all of him inside me now. "Let's lie down," I said. "Make it easier."
"All right," he said.
We moved toward the bed. I kept holding his cock in my hand, marveling at the thickness, the hardness of it. He pulled back the bedspread and blankets.
I lay down on the clean white sheets, spread my legs apart and raised my knees.
He leaned forward and pressed himself to me. With my hand I guided the tip of his prick to my pussy lips. Felt it separate them, slip between them.
At first slowly, then suddenly deeper... now, all the way, the hairs on our bellies rubbing together, his balls slapping against my thighs.
My vagina stretched, clung to him as I bucked against his quick, urgent thrusts. He fondled my breasts as he fucked me.
I reached between his thighs and cupped his balls in my hand. They felt full and very warm. He pressed forward still harder until there was no room for my hand. I put my hands on his buttocks and tried to draw him still deeper into me.
I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him tighter. I felt his tongue press at my teeth and opened my mouth to take it. I sucked it. I couldn't remember when it had been so good for me before.
I fucked him. I felt him fuck me. The ache, the intensity of feeling in my cunt increased. The whole world seemed centered there, where his cock was rubbing hard, back and forth against me. I felt myself rising... drifting... higher... higher... my eyes closed I could feel the sun hot on my face and skin the thickness of him pushing into me wisps of clouds all about nothing else just his skin the hard-soft touch of him his hands the warmth of him the sun naked everything under the sun hot hotter can't breathe wonderful too long on and on hotter the smell of him the touch of his hands on my breasts my nipples his cock thick pushing into my pussy aching hurting sweet now almost now comes the rush, the hot wave flooding me still higher the sun close burning too hot beautiful waiting his prick the top the peak coming cool now delightful spinning bursting the length of him hard soft everything all mixed together wet sweaty cool descending slowly deliciously oh make it last forever don't end now could go on and on the thickness the feel of him in my cunt everything settling wet cool ending now the sweat breaking out a long time waiting now over almost done sliding down everything coming back... his face... his eyes. The room. The lamp dim on the dresser. The sounds now loud again on the streets below. The horns. The light of a sign on the street going on and off reflecting against the bedroom wall. "You're beautiful," he said.
I smiled up at him. We kept our bodies locked together. I felt his penis begin to shrink. I tried to keep it inside me. I loved the touch of his skin. We clung to each other, our bodies sticky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"That was good," he said after we'd rested awhile. He cupped my breast in his hand.
"Yes," I said. "It was wonderful." I enjoyed the deep tingling sensation as he pressed the tip of his thumb gently against my nipple. "Remember the first time you touched me there?" I asked.
My question seemed to puzzle him. He didn't answer.
"Here, I mean... " I said, rubbing his hand against my breast.
"You mean by the window... when we first came in tonight?"
"No, silly. You don't remember, do you? I mean when you took my picture in the dress. Remember, you put in those foam pads."
"Oh, that."
"Well... "
"That was just part of the job then. Not like this." He kept pressing and stroking my nipple.
"It drove me crazy," I said. "Maybe partly because it surprised me so much." I paused. "You mean touching me like that didn't do anything to you at all?"
He laughed. "Well, I found out you had a nice figure."
"It made me mad at the time though," I said. "Embarrassed me... you thinking I needed those pads. Did I really?"
"Need them? Sure, almost any girl would for the kind of shots I was taking. They weren't really to make your breasts look any better. Just to give your figure a certain lift I wanted for the ad."
"I still don't think it made that much difference," I said.
"Probably not."
"You're married, aren't you," I said.
"Huh? That's funny-you all of a sudden asking that."
, "Well, aren't you?" I persisted.
"Yes. How did you guess?"
"I don't know... it was just a feeling I had. Not just tonight. I thought about it from the beginning."
"Does it make a difference?"
"No... not really... not unless-no, it doesn't."
"Unless what?"
"Unless-you know... unless it means, you won't be able to spend so much time with me."
"I have so far, haven't I?" He moved his hand over my ribs and along my back to my buttocks. "You don't think that now that we've gone to bed together I'll want to stop seeing you, do you?"
"I hope not," I said. I put my hand on his firm stomach and rubbed the tangle of black hair just above his cock.
"You shouldn't even think about that. Haven't you known how I felt about you from the first night?"
"Yes, I guess so." I let my hand slide down to touch the warmth of his penis. "Why did you take so long?" I asked. "I mean, never kissing me or anything... not until tonight?"
"I wasn't in any hurry."
"You mean you thought you could have me whenever you wanted to?"
"In a way, I suppose. Well, isn't that right?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think it made it better that we didn't hurry?"
"Uh huh," I said. I laughed. "Just so we don't wait so long for the next time."
"About half an hour," he said chuckling.
"Really?"
"Why not?"
"Men aren't usually ready so soon again, are they?"
"Had experience, huh?"
"Certainly. You know that."
"Much?"
"Quite a bit. You don't mind, do you?"
"No. I don't care if you've had a hundred other men. It hasn't been that many, has it?"
"Not quite."
"Close though... really that many?"
I laughed again. "I think I'll just let you take a guess at that. Could I have a cigarette?"
"Sure, there's some in my shirt here. Want a drink?"
"No, just a smoke." I glanced at my watch. "I'm just going to time it to see if you live up to your promises... about only having to wait a half an hour I mean."
"More like twenty minutes I think. Maybe only ten. I'm almost ready now."
"You don't look like it," I said, glancing at his still limp cock."
"Just touch me there... you'll see."
"Okay," I said. I gripped the smooth softness of him.
I felt his prick grow in my hand. I felt my cunt getting moist again. I crushed out my cigarette.
The next night we made it last for hours. It was nearly three in the morning before we finally came together. He had marvelous control. Time after time he brought me to a peak with the long smooth strokes of his cock. He would stop then and we'd smoke cigarettes and sip our drinks. Then we'd fuck again until I came. Then stop and smoke again. We kept it up like that until we were both exhausted. He fucked me on my back, on my side, on my knees with him standing behind, with me sitting on his lap, with both of us standing facing each other. He'd always bring himself almost to a climax just as I came, then would stop to save himself. My orgasms grew more violent. It drove me wild.
Then finally in the wee hours of the morning when he set down his drink and moved back over me, I could tell that this time it was going to be to the finish. I could see it in his eyes. I could feel it in the sudden deep hard thrusts of his cock. My pussy lips had been dry but they got wet quickly and he slid rapidly in and out of me. I felt his prick continue to swell. Finally he burst inside me. I could feel the come spurting against the walls of my cunt. I came too again, just when he did. It seemed we floated together for hours before it all subsided. When I woke to the dawn light our thighs were still intertwined. His arm felt cozy around my back.
We went on like that during the nights that followed. I wondered how it was that he could spend every evening with me despite his being married, but I didn't ask him. I didn't want to say anything that might spoil it. I liked to hold his penis in my hand. I explored the smooth, hard length of it. Rubbed my thumb around and around over the tiny hole on the big wet tip. I got to know every inch of it. Each vein. Each tiny hair. I liked to look at his cock as I stroked it. Liked to watch it mysteriously rise in my hand. I loved to touch it. Loved to feel the long thickness plunge into me. Loved to feel the hot spurts from it as it burst against the walls of my pussy. I felt that I loved his cock, that I loved him.
We sat smoking cigarettes, naked on the bed. He'd already brought me to a climax twice, fucking me while I sat on his lap. He surprised me by suddenly bending down and kissing my pussy. He'd never done that before. He'd only fucked me. I felt his tongue dart between the lips of my vagina.
I spread my thighs to make more room for him. He licked the wetness of my skin, took my bud into his mouth and sucked it, probed deep with his tongue. It was only a minute or so before I came. It felt wonderful, better even than with Tina. I lifted my hips to bring the caresses of his tongue even deeper into me. I felt myself coming again before the spasms of my first orgasm had completely ended. When I finished, he raised his head and sat back on his legs, rubbing my inner thighs slowly with his hand. His mouth glistened where it was wet from kissing my pussy. I could see his cock jutting out and I reached down and gripped it. I wanted it inside me. I slid my hand along the firm thickness of it.
He made no move to fuck me. "Aren't you going to do it to me again now?" I asked.
He laughed pleasantly. "In a minute," he said. "We don't have to rush it, do we?"
"I don't mean we have to finish," I said. "I just want to get fucked a little. The other was nice though. I liked you doing that."
"Want to do it to me?"
I hesitated. "I don't know. Do you want me to?"
"Yes."
"All right... " I said. "For a minute." I curled myself around on the bed so that my face was near his cock. I felt nervous about kissing him there as the image of the blue-eyed man flashed across my brain. But as I bent toward him the reluctance left me and I took the moist tip gingerly into my mouth. I sucked him lightly. The skin of his cock felt good against my lips. I licked the wet tip. I drew back for a moment, then moved forward again and pressed nibbling kisses all along the length of him. I kissed his balls, then licked the softness of the wrinkled sac that held them.
I moved my lips up along his prick until I reached the tip again, then took the big moist head into my mouth and sucked it gently, pressing down lightly with my teeth, darting my tongue against the small wet opening.
I let his cock slide between my lips. Two inches. Three. It pressed against the roof of my mouth. I sucked him deeply. I felt his hand rubbing my cunt, his fingers dipping deep into the wetness.
I kept sucking him, excited now, feeling wild as I pursed my lips tight around his cock. I felt his hand grip my pussy harder and heard his breath come faster, sensed he was about to come. I pulled back with a start until only the tip remained between my lips. I wanted to feel the sensation of his coming in my mouth but the memory of that awful time with the blue-eyed man confused my feelings, almost frightened me. I'd been hesitant about men ever since, hadn't even let them fuck me until Jack. That was probably why I'd gotten involved with Tina. I knew that if I pushed him away now I'd be right back where I'd been before I'd met him. I had to take him now, had to keep sucking him, had to let him spurt into my mouth. This all flashed through my mind in an instant. I pressed my lips forward again and drew his prick back into my mouth, deep. I sucked him harder and soon felt his cock swell and harden as again he started to come. The tip felt wet and sticky to my tongue. Then suddenly I felt his hand press back against my shoulder, as if he wanted to pull his cock out from between my lips. Maybe because he thought I wouldn't want him to shoot in my mouth, or maybe he wanted to save himself to come in my pussy later. But I didn't want it to stop now.
I pushed my lips down harder against him. I felt him relax back on the bed and I bent over him, pressing my mouth down over his thick hard shaft. I sucked him harder and faster. I felt his body tremble. I felt the first warm spurts shoot into me. His come flooded my mouth -salty tasting, warm, honey sweet. I swallowed and kept sucking him, drawing on him, draining him.
I felt triumphant. The abhorrence that had been with me so long was gone. I had enjoyed it. Had loved the feeling of it. I sucked his cock deep once more, then pulled my mouth away and flopped down on the bed next to him, listening to his heavy breathing and my own, feeling deliciously warm, now loving him, all of him, beautiful, my hand now gently fondling the sticky warmth of his small now innocent cock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"Why just sit there staring out the window?" I asked. "Why don't you come and get me?" I stood with my hands on my hips just a few feet in front of him.
Jack glanced up at me, then back out the window. He didn't say anything. There were knots creasing his forehead, small wrinkles about his eyes. His hands curved tightly over the armrests of the chair.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing... just tired."
But I knew there was more to it than that. I sensed it all beginning to slip away. I wasn't sure why, though I could guess. But I had weapons that would work on him, I knew.
I took a few steps toward him and pushed my pussy against the outside of his hand and rubbed it against his knuckles. "Don't you want to fuck me?" I asked. "I'd like to feel your big cock up inside me. I'd like to kiss it first. To suck it. I'd like you to kiss my cunt... my breasts."
I rolled the hem of my sweater up slowly over my flat bare stomach up to my armpits. My nipples pushed out pink against the thin bra.
He looked up at me again and smiled, weakly. But I saw the spark in his eyes. I kept pushing my cunt against his hand. The material of my skirt was between us but I could feel his hard knuckle against my bud.
"I don't like bras, do you?" I said as I unhooked the snap at my back. "They get in the way." I pushed the loosened bra up under my sweater. My breasts stood out firm and full and very white. "Don't you have a little kiss for me?" I pouted. "Here?... or here?" I stepped back and pulled my skirt up over my knees, then my hips. My white panties were almost sheer. I could feel the muscles of my thighs tighten.
Jack leaned forward, eyes intent.
"Here, I'll get rid of these," I said. "Then you can kiss my pussy. It's all nice and juicy waiting for you."
I stood naked in front of him except for my black stockings and garter belt. "I'll leave the rest on," I said. "It won't get in the way of anything."
He stared at me. He didn't speak.
I locked my hands around the back of his neck. Slowly, I pulled his face to my pussy. I thrust my hips forward and nuzzled my cunt against his lips. At first I felt only the dry skin of his mouth against me-passive. Then his lips began to move, from side to side against me, pulling a little at my pussy hairs. I felt his tongue dart into me and heard myself squeal out in sudden pleasure. I clutched the back of his neck tighter and pulled him closer to me. My pussy was wet and soft beneath his tongue. My orgasm was quick. He kept licking me. My cunt lips. The soft white skin under the curls of hair on my mound. He sucked my bud, bit it until it hurt. I liked the hurt. The shudder went all through me.
He moved his mouth away from my pussy and kissed my stomach, my ribs, the bones of my hips. He pulled me forward, hands clutching my buttocks. I sat down on his thighs, pressing my knees into the cushion of the chair. I unzipped his pants and drew out his cock. We maneuvered on the chair until his prick was touching the wet outer folds of my pussy.
I lowered myself down onto him all the way, loving the feeling of his cock sliding between my sex lips, deep up into my pussy. He played with my breasts as I rode up and down on his prick slowly. I loved the rubbing of his skin on mine each time I lifted myself up until only the tip of his penis remained inside me. I loved the feeling of his cock stretching my pussy each time I pushed back down onto him.
I began moving more rapidly. The aching pleasure spread beyond my pussy to my thighs, my stomach, my entire body. Again and again I brought myself to a climax. Then suddenly he was pushing me back from the chair. In a moment we were on the thick white carpet, I on my back, he kneeling between my widespread thighs. I saw the sensual beauty of his thick white penis looming over me. Then I felt it pushing deep into my cunt. I locked my legs around his back, drew him even deeper into me.
Our motions became very rapid. Everything blurred. I felt myself drifting. We were on the island. The sand was hot on my back. The small grains pushing into me hurt a little. There were birds flying all about but they were in the distance. I could hear the breakers pounding, their vibration beneath my back. They slapped the shore hard each time, just as Jack pushed his cock back into me. I felt myself spinning floating higher higher on a cloud.
We were coming now. Together. I felt his warm come spurting into me. Flooding me. It was beautiful high on the cloud in the sun. I could hear the ocean breakers crashing far below. I could smell the salt. I could taste it. I bit his lip. I could taste him. I kept pulling him into me. I wanted the moment to last. But then suddenly it was over and I felt myself tumbling off the cloud. Alone. The jagged rocks of the beach loomed up. The birds swooped and cawed all about. I tensed my body for the impact. I knew that it would come.
It did.
He rolled off me onto his back. His cock looked wet, limp. His eyes were closed. He didn't say anything. There was no after-play. I felt alone.
I moved toward him. I placed my hand tentatively on the mat of hair on his chest. "Is this all? Is it over now?" I asked.
He opened his eyes. We stared at each other. He didn't say anything but I knew he'd answered my question.
"Your wife?" I asked.
His eyes spoke.
I felt lonely, desperate, afraid. All of it had come to nothing. I tried not to show how I felt. "Why?" I asked. "All of a sudden like this? I know you like to be with me... the way it was between us just now."
"It hasn't anything to do with you," he said. "She's been gone these last weeks. In Connecticut at her mother's... a vacation... now she's coming back."
"Why didn't you tell me it was like that?"
"I wanted it to happen... this between us."
"And now it's over?"
"She's coming back. We won't have the chances. There's nothing else we can do."
"We could meet."
"She works with me at Bruce... a model like you. We go back and forth together every day."
"You love her?"
"Yes. But I've loved you too."
"Loved? That's past tense."
"It has to be."
"There's no other way?
"No."
"You don't want there to be another way, do you?
"It's impossible. It couldn't work out."
"When is she coming back?"
"Tomorrow... on the train."
"You're going to meet her?"
"Yes."
"And then take her home and fuck her?"
He reddened. "That's not fair."
"Fair? What's that. You're going to take her home and fuck her, aren't you?"
"Yes, I suppose... "
"And eat her pussy?"
"There's no need to talk like that," he said angrily.
I pressed. "Oh, yes, there is. I want to know. Tell me, will you enjoy fucking and eating her as much as you do me? Will she suck your cock too... or do you just have your girlfriends do that?"
He didn't answer. His face was white, his lips thin. He stood up and zipped up his pants. He lit a cigarette and sucked in deep. He walked to the window and stared out.
I gathered up my clothes and dressed quickly. I didn't say anything more. I put on lipstick in front of the mirror. My face looked drawn and pale. I felt sick. Neither of us spoke. I finished with the lipstick and started toward the door.
He turned suddenly.
We faced each other across the room. His eyes were softer now, but there was an invisible wall separating us.
"Look, I didn't mean for it to end like this," he said. "I didn't really want it to-"
"But you said it had to."
"Just for now. Not permanently. She'll go away again."
"When... next summer?" I said acidly.
"No, not that long. She sometimes goes to visit on weekends."
"And I should just wait until she does. And then come running when you tell me she's gone."
"You make it difficult. There's nothing else I can do." Jack looked bewildered. It was some consolation to see he cared.
I relented a little. "I suppose not," I said. I felt that to some extent I held the upper hand again.
"I'll let you know then," he said.
"When she goes away?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure. I have to think. I don't want to be somebody who's just around when she's not. No, don't come over to me now. I'll leave. We'll see what happens. But don't count on me. I'm not going to be anybody's stand-in. No one-night stands. No lunch time quickies. It would have to be more than that. I've cared too much for you for anything like that. I couldn't take it. I'm going to leave now."
I pulled the door shut behind me. Jack said something as I left but I didn't hear his words. I felt sad, empty. I walked along the sidewalk. The cars and people seemed a long way off. The buildings echoed the click of my heels against the pavement. My legs didn't really seem to be part of me. Nothing seemed a part of me. I was in a million fragments. I decided to stop for a drink. I didn't want to get drunk. I just wanted something to relax me, to help me gather myself together My lips were dry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Half an hour later I sat in the darkness of a bar stirring my second Manhattan. I finished it quickly and waited for the waitress to come by again.
I started thinking vaguely of Tina. She'd been angry with me at first when I'd started seeing Jack so much, then had stopped speaking to me entirely when I moved to my own apartment. But that had all settled down and we'd started smiling and saying hello to each other again at work.
I knew it had hurt her the way it had ended between us. It hadn't bothered me at all really. I'd been too involved with Jack. And in a way I'd been relieved to have it over with her. Now I was alone, though and I felt a sudden need for her. I wanted to be comforted, to be loved. She was the only person I knew who could do that for me.
I phoned her apartment. It took a long time for her to answer. She seemed pleased but surprised. She'd been taking a bath, she said. I asked her to come out for a drink. She said that sounded fine but that she had to finish her bath and press her dress first. "Why don't you stop over at my place while I get ready," she said. "I could make us a drink here. Then we could go out for another later."
I knew what she meant. I could hear the trembling in her voice. I said yes, I'd come. I hung up the phone. I felt a thousand tiny pinpricks all over my skin. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go back to that. Yet it excited me, and I had to get rid of the depression, the emptiness. It was the only way I knew. Already I could feel the weight beginning to lift from me.
She was in her bra and panties, ironing her skirt when I came in. Her eyes brightened when we were on the bed kissing and fondling each other hungrily. She lifted my skirt. Her cool lips moved up along my thighs. "Just a minute." I said. "I was with Jack just a while ago. I should wash up a little."
She sat back on her legs. "All right," she said. "Hurry. Shall I undress you?"
"Yes."
Together we peeled off my clothes. Her hands were all over me. Then we took off her clothes. We rubbed our naked bodies against each other. I liked the scratching of the hair around her pussy against my skin. She pulled back suddenly. "Let's run your water," she said. "I can't wait much longer."
We stood in front of the big bathroom mirror and caressed each other while the tub filled. We laughed as we watched the nipples of our breasts poke into each other. It was exhilarating being with her again. I loved the feeling of her skin on mine... the cool pressure of her lips along my neck, my collarbone. I felt a little giddy from the Manhattans. The loneliness I'd felt was gone.
I stepped gingerly into the hot water. Tina knelt next to the tub. She kissed me as she soaped my pussy. She sucked my tongue. I cupped one of her breasts in my hand. We clung to each other.
I stood up and dried myself with the towel. Tina got another towel and patted away the wetness from my pussy. "I'd have gotten in with you," she laughed, "except I just got out."
We hurried back to the bed. We wrapped our naked bodies around each other and sucked each other's tongues, then kissed and sucked each other's nipples and breasts. We shifted around on the bed so that her face was between my thighs, my face between hers. I felt her tongue at the lips of my pussy. I kissed her thighs and the top of her mound just below her navel, then bent my head to her cunt. I kissed her sex-lips, then let my tongue play against them. I delved deeper into her pussy.
I moved my head slightly and probed for her bud. I let the edges of my teeth graze lightly against it. We lay there for almost an hour eating each other. I forgot about everything except the touch of her lips and tongue against my vagina. The touch of my lips and tongue against hers. Orgasm after orgasm racked my body. I could hear the groans of pleasure escape her lips. I could feel the sudden shivering of her body as she climaxed.
We lay there quietly with our faces nuzzled between each other's thighs. I felt calm, content. A warm pleasant glow came over me. I felt myself drifting off to the island, lying on the sun-baked sand, seeing the birds small flying far in the distance, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves upon the shore.
Tina sat up. "Hey, what about that drink?" she said. "Let's get dressed and go out to that place you called me from."
"Not back there," I said. "Someplace nicer."
"The Sentinel?"
"All right. That'd be good."
We dressed quickly and fixed our faces. I couldn't find my lipstick in my purse so I used a tube of Tina's. A whitish lipstick. I liked the way it looked on me. The way it tasted. Tina brushed my hair. I liked it when she did that. It aroused me even though we'd just spent more than an hour on the bed. The fingertips of her left hand kept touching the back of my neck. I reached down and rubbed her thigh just above her knee.
The Sentinel was crowded for a week night but we found a nice table near the bar. I liked the red decor. The darkness. Tina rubbed her knee against mine beneath the table.
Tina asked me about Jack. I didn't tell her everything. I just said we'd had a squabble and she let it go at that. She kept rubbing her knee against mine. It began to irritate me a little. I had enjoyed it in bed with her but now I just wanted to drink and watch the people chatting and drinking along the bar. There was a broad-shouldered very blond man who appealed to me. He was standing alone at the end of the bar. He kept glancing over. I pretended not to notice. Tina kept rubbing her leg against mine and talking about how nice it would be to cuddle up in bed together later. She seemed to assume that I would be staying overnight at her apartment. "Wasn't it nice," she said. "I just kept coming and coming. Is it still as good for you with me as with a man?"
Her questions irked me. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't like the way she sounded so possessive. I knew that I'd probably end up in bed with her later but I didn't want it to start up all over between us again. I didn't want to go back to it, even though the moments with her were exciting.
I glanced up and saw that the blond man who'd been standing at the bar was gone. I tried to remember what he'd looked like but couldn't, except that his shoulders had been very broad. "Do you like it best when I kiss your breasts or your pussy?" Tina asked.
I turned to her. Her eyes were bright. I liked the way her lips curved when she smiled. Her breasts stood out beautifully beneath her dress. She wasn't wearing a bra. "The second of course," I said. "... my pussy." I let her press her hand over mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
At first I barely recognized him when he came in and took a place standing at the bar. He looked thin, very tired. His face was gaunt. His shoulders looked hunched as if he'd been carrying a heavy weight. His hair and mustache were unkempt and he looked as if he hadn't shaved for a week. His clothes were wrinkled. He leaned on the bar as if for support. He looked as if he'd been drinking heavily. He kept calling out for service but the bartender ignored him. I stared at him, unable to believe the change that a few months had brought. It all seemed so long ago. He looked almost pathetic, but my heart was leaping wildly.
"Know that guy or something?" Tina asked. She must have caught the intensity of my stare.
I shook my head. "No," I lied. "I thought I did at first. He looks a little like someone I used to know." I turned away from him. I could feel Tina's knee pressing against mine. I could hear Richard calling out louder to the bartender to bring him a drink. His voice sounded coarse. I felt nervous. A thousand confused recollections flashed through my brain.
"You'd never know to look at him now that he used to be one of the most prominent men in town," Tina went on. "But he tumbled harder than Humpty-Dumpty."
"Oh," I said. I crossed my legs to get them away from Tina's. I glanced back at Richard Southland, then away. I tried to act as if I wasn't much interested in hearing about him. When I'd first come to New York I'd intended to ask Tina about him but never had. I'd thought she might get too inquisitive, and I didn't want to talk about that part of my life with anyone. I'd tried to look him up in the phone book and had hunted for his picture in all the papers, but I hadn't seen or heard anything about him until now.
"He was a promoter-a speculator kind of," Tina said. "Mostly in real estate and things like that. Anyway he had this girl-she was married to someone else but they'd been practically living together for years."
I heard the arguing between Richard and the bartender grow louder. Richard sounded drunk, demanding.
Tina continued. "Anyway he got drunk one night a few months ago-just before you moved here, I think- and smashed their car into a telephone pole. He wasn't hurt but she had practically half her face clipped off. They say she was hideous to look at. A week later at the hospital she sliced her wrists with a razor and bled to death. It was in all the papers. The judge only put him on probation for being negligent but it ruined him financially."
I could hear Richard still arguing with the bartender.
"He'd always been just a step ahead of his creditors," Tina went on, "but she had a lot of money and kept lending it to him to bail him out. When she died, it left him on the hook on a couple of big deals he'd been counting on her money for. But the money all went to her family naturally and he went under in a week. Look at him now-no one to hold him up anymore-he can't do anything without her. Some say he didn't really care for her at all... that the only reason he stayed on with her was for the money. But I'm not sure about that. Oh, well, I can see you're bored. I'll shut up about it. It was a big story around here when it happened though."
I wasn't bored. I was listening to her every word. And now for the first time I partly understood a lot of things that had confused me long ago-why he'd always kept going back to New York when his business was in Blue River, why he'd seemed to maintain his restraint even when I felt he loved me, why he'd left me in the lurch...
I suddenly felt very sorry for him and felt that I still loved him. The old animosity melted. The hurt I'd felt for so long vanished. I listened to him arguing with the bartender. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying but it was something about Richard's not being dressed right and having already had to much to drink.
Their voices grew louder.
"Don't you know who I am?" Richard demanded. "I used to come in here all the time. I paid for big parties... private rooms... "
"I don't give a damn if you're the pope," the bartender said. "You're not getting a drop in here. Now get out." His face was livid, his voice angry.
Richard looked hapless. A battered fighter going down for the count.
Tina had changed the subject and was talking again about how it would be when we went back to her room together after another drink, but I didn't really hear anything she said. I was listening to the arguing at the bar. Everyone was staring at the two of them now. Richard looked wobbly. Weak but stubborn. Then suddenly the bartender came out from behind the bar and twisted up Richard's hand behind his back. At first Richard struggled but the bartender pulled up harder on his arm until he stopped. The bartender marched him to the door. I recalled the tall, impeccably dressed man with the grey mustache striding down the Corridor of the Knickerbocker, the others walking hurriedly at his side trying to catch up.
The bartender shoved him out through the big revolving door.
Richard stumbled and fell face forward on the sidewalk. A crowd began to gather immediately.
The bartender stomped back inside.
I slid out of my chair. "I do know him," I said to Tina. "I'm going to him. No, don't come with me." She looked up at me incredulously as I stood for an instant next to the table. I pressed her hand lightly. "I'll explain later," I said. "I'll call you."
Richard was still lying face down on the sidewalk, the crowd all about, when I got there. I knelt next to him. He'd cut his cheek pretty badly falling and looked groggy but otherwise seemed all right. I saw the surprise on his face as he recognized me. "Don't try to talk now," I said. "We'll go to my place." I looked up at the Stone faces of the crowd. "Somebody call a cab, will you?"
We rode back through the crowded streets to my apartment. Richard still looked dazed. We sat close to each other in the cab. I held a blood-soaked handkerchief to his cheek. I asked if it hurt much. He said no, it just felt numb, ached a little. He seemed more distressed at being thrown out of the bar than about his injury.
I was struck by the incongruity of the two of us riding like this together in the cab, his badly wrinkled and torn trousers next to the skirt of my new, expensive-looking dress. It seemed just yesterday that we'd met at the Knickerbocker, he in his handsome, perfectly pressed dark suit, his hair and mustache groomed carefully, me in a drab and shapeless maid's uniform. The turnabout was startling. I had climbed high so quickly. He had fallen so low. But I enjoyed the feeling it gave me. A sense of triumph almost. He had controlled everything between us before. Now I felt I could do the same.
I dabbed at his cheek with the handkerchief. He tried to talk to me about everything but I told him to wait, to relax. I liked the feeling of power. Everything seemed to have built up to this moment. I was on the highest cloud, on a pinnacle looking down and controlling everything about.
He flopped on the bed in my apartment. I washed his cut with warm water. The soap stung him. I rolled up some ice cubes in a small towel and told him to hold the towel to his cheek. I slipped a pillow beneath his head to make him more comfortable.
He asked me to give him a drink. I hesitated but he was insistent. I filled a shot glass and held it to his lips, helped him sit up to drink it. He craved the whiskey. He sucked it into his mouth and gulped it.
The drink made him feel much better and in a few minutes he was able to sit up without my support. He handed the shot glass back to me and I poured him another. As he began to drink it, he started talking. His eyes were bright now, his speech lucid. He began to remind me of the man I'd known. Unhesitatingly he told me the same story Tina had except he left out the part about his dependence on the dead woman for money. I didn't press him about it. I decided to give him that.
He had a third drink. I drank one along with him. He pulled a mashed-up cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it. "Well, how have you been, Nancy? Doing all right, it looks like."
"Yes," I said. "I'm in New York now... living here. Modeling."
"I know... I've seen your ads."
"You have?"
"They're in all the magazines."
"Why didn't you ever try to reach me?"
"When I'm on the skids like this?" He looked down at his clothes and laughed. An embarrassed laugh.
"That's just temporary though," I said.
"I don't know. I hope so. I seem to be having trouble getting back."
"Maybe I could help."
"You? Yes... maybe you could." He gazed at me intently. "I suppose you could. He looked for a place to put out his cigarette. I brought him an ashtray. He crushed the cigarette out and lay back on the bed. I sat down next to him. I stroked the stubble of beard on his jaw and chin. His beard felt coarse, his face thin, but the sensation of just touching him sent sparks through my fingertips and up my arms. My pussy began to ache. I lay down next to him and snuggled up close.
It felt good to be near him again. I rubbed his eyelids lightly with my fingertips, explored each curve of his face. I'd almost forgotten how much he'd meant to me. Gone now were all thoughts of Jack and Tina and the others. Richard was the one. The only one. None of the rest of them meant anything to me. They had only been stand-ins while I waited. I hadn't realized that until now. I'd managed almost to shove him out of my mind. And now I was in control. I was the strong one; he was weak. I could have him on my terms. When I wanted. As I wanted. I wanted him now. He was tired and weak, but this was how I wanted him.
I reached for the top button of his shirt and unbuttoned it, then the rest. I caressed his stomach and thin hard chest with my fingertips. He eyes fluttered open and he smiled. I unzipped his trousers slowly and drew out his cock. It was soft and small. I stroked it a little. The familiar warmth felt good against my hand. I stroked harder but his penis didn't rise and grow firm as I'd expected. This surprised me at first. But then I realized that he was probably just too tired from everything. I shouldn't be in such a hurry.
But I wanted him now, needed him now. This moment when I had him in my power here on my bed.
I stroked his cock harder but not much happened. His eyes remained half-shut. I pressed my body against his. I kissed his cool, dry lips and licked away the dryness. I pumped his cock and it finally started to swell. I rubbed my thumb across the tip. His prick continued to grow. I slipped off my panties and pulled up my skirt. I straddled him, took his penis in my hand and rubbed it along the expectant outer lips of my pussy. It felt delightful, thrilling. All of it came back just as it once had been.
I let my vagina slide down over the length of his cock. Richard's eyes were open now, glazed and soft-looking. He reached out for my breasts. I rolled up my sweater and unhooked my bra. I tingled as his fingertips brushed my bare nipples. I pressed forward to make the touch of his hands harder against me. I pushed down harder against his prick until it was all the way in. I drew myself up slowly, then pushed down again. I rode him, feeling the hot feeling the excitement building up inside me. My cunt skin stretched, clung to him, ached deliriously.
I kept riding him, feeling my pussy grabbing and clinging to the slippery thickness of his cock. Sitting on top of him, I could move as I wanted to, could rub my cunt against his prick at the place I wanted to. I drew myself up and waited a long time before pushing down again, enjoying for an instant holding myself back from him as he tried to raise himself up to push deeper in. I was in control. I was on top of him and we moved against each other how and when I wanted to. Everything was up to me. He was beneath me. He tried to roll me over, to get on top of me, but I held him down. , The hot feeling in my pussy grew more intense and diffused through my body. I was afire. Hot on the sand on the island under the high burning sun. There were no birds. The breakers kept crashing against the shore. The hot wind dried the sweat of my body.
Richard's prick kept swelling. I could tell he was about to burst inside me. I drew myself up slowly so that he was almost all the way out of me, then stopped moving. I wanted to control the moment that would end it. He tried to push himself up into me but I drew back slightly so that he couldn't. Then I could tell that the time had passed for him as his cock began to soften. He relaxed back on the bed. His eyes were almost closed. He looked very tired. He lay there almost inert, his strength spent.
Now was the moment. The time for me to bring it to an end. I pushed down on him. At first very slowly, then faster. I felt my cunt envelop his prick, cling to it, felt his cock begin to grow again at my sudden thrusting movement. I pushed down still harder, farther, until my pussy hairs entwined with the thick growth of hair at the base of his cock. I lifted myself, then drove down again, and again.
I heard him moan. I felt myself coming but held back until I could make him come too. I pulled his hands to my breasts, then reached between our legs and rubbed his balls. I felt his cock grow to full hardness. I brought myself to a peak just as he burst inside me.
It was over. My orgasm had been good but somehow incomplete. I hadn't climbed as high as I'd thought I would. It had been too mild at the end. I felt disappointed letdown. I felt his penis shriveling out of me. There was no afterglow. There was nothing to do now but disentangle and get off of him. I sat back on my legs on the edge of the bed and glanced at his face. He was breathing evenly, his face almost expressionless, his mouth open. I realized that he was already sleeping.
I got off the bed and slumped down in the big easy chair next to the window. I felt empty. I smoked as I stared down at the darkening street below, at the people, the cars. I could hear the motors grinding, horns sounding. The sight and sound of it made me dizzy. Everything seemed distant.
I looked back at Richard asleep on the bed. He seemed far away too. Indistinct. As if he would vanish if I reached out to touch him. I didn't feel at all the way I'd expected to. It had been a dream, an illusion, a mirage. The depression, the sense of incompleteness had set in almost at the moment of my orgasm. I had tried to go back to it with him but couldn't. It was over and it had been almost nothing at the end.
And what now. I could go back to Tina and the long sensual nights in her bed. Exciting, satisfying, all right for a while but incomplete too. Alone she was not enough for me. Jack-waiting for his wife to go away again. That wasn't what I wanted either. And even if he ever would leave her for me, I wondered if the excitement wouldn't fizzle as soon as I knew I could have him for the asking. Just as it had with Richard. How much it had meant to me to find him again. And now I had him here on my own bed, on my own terms. But strangely he meant next to nothing to me now. He wasn't what I wanted. None of them were what I wanted. I hungered for something that wasn't.
I had to get rid of the depression. It seemed that everything had come crashing down and the weight was crushing. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. My modeling, the money-they meant anything? Nothing meant anything.
I looked at my panties, crumpled on the floor. I got up and slipped them on. Richard didn't stir on the bed. He slept on peacefully. But for me it was hell. The walls of the apartment pressed in. I lit another cigarette, but it tasted awful and I crushed it out after a few puffs. I finished dressing and put on my tan suede jacket and went out into the freshness of the cool August night.
I walked slowly along the sidewalk, listening to the click of my heels against the pavement. The people coming the other way seemed to be rushing at me. Laughing, talking, almost bumping into me as they passed. I seemed to be moving against the crush of everything. No island, no beach, no sand or warm sun. Only the crowds bearing down on me. People I didn't know. None of it meaning anything. Nowhere to turn. Not to Tina. Or Jack. Or Richard. None of them what I wanted, needed.
Nowhere to go. Now just push on through the crowds. Other streets ahead. Nameless streets. Only the blinking neon lighting up the night. Red. Orange. Yellow. Blue, green, white. Some large, some small. All blinking moving. Closer than the people, than the traffic. Noiseless. Not beautiful. But lighting up the night.
Ahead a block an unusual sign standing out from the rest. Cool. Blue and white. Inviting. A figure in the middle. Closer now. Half a block. A blue dancer. A ballerina framed in white. The neon danced, glowed, held my gaze. I walked on toward it.
I stopped directly under the sign and peered into the window beneath it. A bar. Bright and gay. The sound of people laughing drifted through the door and window. Couples dancing. A combo. The constant electrical hum of the sign above. I stared through the window. Some of the men along the bar glanced out at me. One of them a rather broad-shouldered, handsome fellow. He seemed to smile. Another a few seats closer to the window stared back at me as he puffed a cigarette. I liked his eyes-Dark and deep-set.
The bartender glanced up frowning. I moved on quickly. The street ahead looked dark, bleak. After passing the next two buildings I stopped. I hesitated, then started walking back toward the bar with the blue and white sign. I could hear the laughing and the talking and the music floating out into the night. I thought about the broad-shouldered man at the bar. And the man with the dark eyes. And the others. Any of them. All of them. It didn't matter who. The blue and white sign beckoned. I passed again in front of the window. I stopped at the door. I brushed the hair back from my forehead and started in, leaving the darkness of the street behind.
