They were necking in the living room of Steve's apartment. It overlooked the Hudson River and apparently he thought it was very romantic, Andrea thought wryly. She submitted to his advances patiently and told herself that soon she would be home in bed.
Steve ground out his cigarette and kissed her again. Andrea opened her lips, but did not respond. Not even when she felt his hand squeeze her breast through the sweater. His other hand was sliding up her leg and she shifted slightly, moving one leg over the other to keep his hand from the inside of her thigh.
Steve thrust his tongue past her lips and she listlessly flicked her own back and forth. Encouraged, he reached for her and his fingers trembled slightly as he unfastened her sweater and tossed it on the sofa. He slipped his arms behind her, then, and caressed her back for a moment before fumbling with the fastener of her brassiere, tugging desperately until it finally snapped open. With a moan, he peeled the flimsy white bandeau off and her breasts spilled out, delicate, pear-shaped mounds. For a long moment, he merely stare at them, licking his lips slowly.
Andrea shifted slightly under his scrutiny. She thought her breasts were too small, but boys always went crazy over them, especially the enticing rosebud nipples.
Steve lowered his head and his lips were warm and wet as they captured a nipple. Andrea pressed herself against his lips knowing it would please him if she showed some kind of a response.
His fingers tickled slowly up the inside of her warm thigh and he ground his mouth against hers so hard he hurt her teeth. His hand replaced his mouth on her breasts.
Andrea returned the kiss, teasing the roof of his mouth with her tongue and idly caressing the back of his neck. He trailed his fingers up her thigh and headed for the rim of her panties. As he tried to pry beneath them, she twisted lazily to deter him.
She petted with him mechanically now, using the techniques she knew so well from years of experience. She liked the way her breasts felt when he nuzzled her nipples. Liked the sensation of his fingers tickling her thighs. She had such control over herself, in fact, that she could let herself enjoy the petting up to a certain point and then turn off.
Steve was nearly gasping for breath now, and once again she was forced to push his hands away from her buttocks.
"Dammit, Andrea," he flared, jumping to his feet. "Don't you ever stop playing these petting games? You graduated two weeks ago from high school. You're not a child anymore."
"I need a drink," she murmured.
He wiped the sweat from his face and strode to the portable bar where he mixed two scotch and sodas.
She took a deep swallow and made a face.
"Why, I believe you're trying to get me drunk," she teased.
"Would that make you more of a woman?" he snapped.
"Don't start that again," she sighed wearily.
She drank again, shuddering at the raw taste of the scotch. Suddenly she felt terrible. She had thought she might go all the way with Steve tonight. But the evening had turned out as it always did. Just as she was beginning to enjoy the sexplay, she would think of her mother, and her insides would tighten up. She had to get over that hang-up. She just had to.
She put down her glass and turned to Steve. She put her arms around his neck, looked directly into his eyes and murmured his name.
He squeezed her hard and buried his lips in her throat.
"I'm going to make a woman out of you if it kills me," he said huskily.
Andrea smiled--a small, bitter smile.
A few moments later, he was in a frenzy again. His breathing was ragged and his tongue was plunging crazily into her ear. Just as an intensely pleasurable sensation spiralled through Andrea's belly, she gasped and pulled away.
Neither one of them said anything. Steve's breathing was ragged and his face was pale. Andrea bit her lower lip nervously, shaken by his expression.
Silently, he handed her her bra and sweater, and she took them numbly, feeling that he was giving her back to herself. She spared him the embarrassment of taking her home and told him she preferred to take a cab. He said goodnight without looking at her and mumbled that he would call her. She knew he never would.
* * *
Her mother wasn't back yet from her night driving lesson when Andrea got in, and she was grateful that she could go to sleep without having to answer a hundred different questions about her date.
About an hour later, however, she was awakened by the sound of voices and she knew her mother was home. And, not surprisingly, she had managed to get the driving instructor to come with her. Andrea had noticed the way her mother had glowed every time she returned from one of the lessons and she knew that this meant her mother thought this guy was something special. Andrea wondered bitterly if he was any improvement over the last gigolo her mother had kept around.
She buried her head in the pillows and wished her mother were more like those of her girl friends--content to stick to their card playing and gossiping. But no, her mother was one of those who like sex--so much, in fact, that Andrea's father had divorced her ten years ago when Andrea was only eight years old. She thought she would remember that final argument to her dying day--the ugly accusations that were flung back and forth because they forgot that Andrea was in the next room. Or didn't care. Her eight-year-old mind had not completely grasped the full meaning of her father's bitter words, but years later it had all come back to her with sickening clarity and comprehension--usually when she was with a boy. And then she would always freeze up and nothing her dates would say or do could melt her. The iceberg--that was the cruel nickname she had acquired in high school. But it didn't bother her that much--not half as much as the constant fear that she would become a man-eater like her mother if she ever gave in to the wild demands of her traitorous young body. She knew well enough that if she lost control, even once, she was finished...
Andrea heard the clicking of glasses and her mother's excited giggle and knew that her mother had big plans for this evening with her young driving instructor. Andrea had never seen him but she knew he was young--her mother had a preference for young men.
She tiptoed to the door of her bedroom and opened it slightly in order to get a glimpse of her mother's latest. She knew her mother thought she was still out on a date and wasn't expecting her home for another couple of hours yet, but she didn't intend to be a good Samaritan and let them know she was home. Besides, it would give her something to throw up at her mother over the breakfast table tomorrow morning when her mother started chiding her about her inability to keep a boyfriend and launching into an account of how popular she had been at Andrea's age.
She opened the door quietly and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the prize her mother had brought home. Only his profile was toward her, but it was enough to capture her interest. He was not the usual pretty-boy type her mother went for, but rather a blond Adonis who had been punched in the nose once too often, judging by its slightly irregular angle. Compliments of an irate husband, no doubt, Andrea thought wryly.
He was about five-foot-eleven with a lithe physique that contained hidden strength. He wore a soiled pair of chinos and his black turtle necked sweater was covered by a worn suede jacket, which he reluctantly removed at her mother's urging.
He was looking around the living room curiously, and Andrea suspected he had never seen such a luxurious room. Suddenly, he turned a full-face view to Andrea and his dark eyes seemed to penetrate her.
"Who's the little doll?" he asked, his voice deep with admiration.
Andrea froze for a moment until she realized that he was referring to a framed photograph of her that was on top of the piano.
Her mother joined him, handing him a drink as she took the picture from his large hands and placed it back on the piano.
"That's my little girl, Andrea," her mother said with real pride. "Real little beauty, isn't she?"
"Sure is," the young man muttered obediently. "Almost as pretty as her mother."
Her mother beamed, and leaned her bleached auburn head against his arm. Imagining, no doubt, that she was still a spring chicken and not a middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes and a desperate aura about her that stemmed from a fear of growing old and undesirable. Whenever she felt her age, she would go for the sherry bottle and put herself to sleep with it, with the result that her once-striking face now showed telltale traces of paunchiness.
Andrea started to turn away, sick at heart, at the spectacle her mother was making of herself but she froze at the sound of the boy's voice. Could it have been she was mistaken about him.
"Thanks for the drink, Mrs. Markham," he said, reaching for his jacket. "I've gotta go now--" Her mother grabbed his arm, panic in her eyes.
"Oh, but Larry--you promised you'd come up and have a night cap with me to celebrate the end of my driving lessons," she whined. "Surely you're not going to go back on your word... " She looked up at him flirtatiously, fluttering her false eyelashes at him and pressing closer.
The young man looked away uncomfortably, away from the hungry eyes of this woman who was almost old enough to be his mother. He seemed torn between wanting to get away and staying to avoid hurting her feelings. This struck Andrea as rather peculiar because she knew, in all fairness, that many men still found her mother attractive. Besides, she knew that if her mother were pleased by a man's performance in the bedroom she would reward him generously. Despite his obvious reluctance to remain, Andrea thought that he must know that, too. She was torn between unwilling admiration for him and a feeling of resentment that he was going to make her mother beg for his strong young body.
"All right, Ma'am," he said finally, dropping onto the sofa, his long legs sprawled out and resting atop the marble coffee table. "I guess I can spare a few more minutes."
"Wonderful, darling," her mother gushed happily. "And now that we're no longer on a teacher-student basis I want you to call me Ester. Think you can manage that without too much difficulty?"
The young man let his eyes caress her face and body meaningfully.
"It shouldn't be difficult to manage anything with you," he murmured huskily, taking the palm of her hand and pressing his lips to it.
Suddenly all of Esther's confidence flowed back at the gesture. Now she was on familiar ground and the choice of weapons was hers.
"Excuse me a minute, love, will you?" she smiled charmingly, caressing his cheek. "I'd like to change into something more comfortable, as the saying goes... "
"Don't be too long, Ester," Larry called after her. "I've still got the engine running... "
Ester giggle like a school girl with excited anticipation as she shut the bedroom door behind her.
Andrea noted with surprise that the moment he was alone the young man buried his head in his hands as though he were sick with self-disgust. For a moment, she thought he was going to sneak out of the apartment before her mother could stop him. But apparently he made a decision, because when he looked up again, his eyes were hard and cold and he stood up mechanically and made himself a strong scotch which he flung down his throat in one gulp, as if he were trying to brace himself for an upcoming ordeal.
Ester came out of her room a few minutes later, to find Larry standing in front of Andrea's photograph thoughtfully, with a fresh drink in his hand. She was wearing a sheer black negligee with ostrich feathers at the sleeves and hem and her auburn hair was tumbling loose about her white shoulders.
Larry felt her presence and asked, without turning; "Where's your kid? Aren't you afraid she'll come home early and find me here?"
Andrea realized by her mother's expression that it had actually not occurred to her.
"Oh, Andrea's out on a date--very popular, that girl. Besides, she won't be coming in for another hour or two yet. We've got plenty of time, lover... "
Her voice trailed off suddenly as though a remarkable thought had just occurred to her. She came close behind Larry and wrapped her arms about his waist, rubbing up against him provocatively. Andrea saw him stiffen and his eyes leave her picture.
"Larry darling," her mother was saying, "I wonder if you would do me a favor... "
"What kind of a favor?" he asked suspiciously.
"I' like you to give my little girl driving lessons," she said quickly. "To be perfectly frank... in spite of the fact that the kid is a beauty she's rather shy around boys, and I'm kind of worried about her. Can you imagine me with an old maid on my hands," she added jokingly.
"Old maid!" Larry scoffed, glancing at the photo. "Why, the kid can't be more than seventeen... "
"Eighteen," Ester corrected, "and I know you think I'm being silly or a horrible mother or both, but I think it's time someone showed her what it's really like to be a women. And I've got a hunch that you're the guy to do it. You're not that much older than she is, and I think she'd go for you... "
Andrea stifled a gasp as the realization of her mother's words hit her. Her own mother was actually begging a strange man to seduce her! Andrea was about to fling open the door and storm into the living room to confront her mother, but she thought better of it as a rising anger and desire for revenge began to overtake her.
Larry spared her the necessity of a reaction. His eyes were as shocked as her own as he spun around to face her mother.
"Did I hear you right, Mrs. Markham?" he choked.
The reason for his incredulity went over Ester's head and she patted his cheek reassuringly, as though to show him she understood.
"It's all right, dear," she soothed. "I'll be very happy to double your rate. I know what a nuisance it must be to break in a--a beginner. Besides, I think it's a good idea for Andrea to know how to drive. She's entirely too dependent on taxi cabs."
The young man looked as though he didn't know what had hit him. He gulped down his drink and looked at Ester through glazed eyes. She gently took the glass from his hand, obviously not wanting him to be too drunk to do her bidding.
"Well, is it a deal?" she asked, caressing his blond hair with her ring-laden fingers. "Are you going to be a doll and teach my little girl?"
"Now look here, Mrs. Markham--" he began angrily.
"Ester," her mother cooed.
"Now, listen Easter," he snapped. "I don't know what the hell you think I am, but whatever it is you're mistaken!"
Andrea silently applauded him, renewed respect for him almost but not completely wiping out the nausea her mother's request had brought her. Her mother deserved to be taught a lesson and Andrea prayed that this boy would be the one to give it to her. That he would throw his drink in her face and walk out. But Ester spoiled it all.
"We both know what you are, darling," she said coolly, "and if there's anything I can't stand it's a hypocrite."
The young man flushed an angry red and was about to retort when Ester twined her arms around his neck and began to caress his hairline, grinding her pelvis against him as she did so.
Larry looked down, startled, and noticed for the first time since she had re-entered the room the low cleavage of he negligee. He stared in awe at her white bulging breasts, exposed almost to the nipples, and his breath caught sharply in the midst of a protest.
Ester took his hand and placed it firmly over her naked bosom, holding it there until she felt the resistance go out of him. He reached for both breasts and jostled them around in his big hands roughly. The two tips hardened and her mother began to breathe heavily. Larry pulled her voluptuous body to him and, winding his fingers in her tousled hair, brought her face to his own. Their thighs were touching, and Ester's breasts were flattened against his chest. Andrea saw her mother press hard up against his stomach and a wave of excitement thumped at her belly in spite of herself. She knew she should shut the door and go back to bed, but her feet were incapable of moving.
She watched her mother raise up on tiptoe, adjusting her plump buttocks as though searching for what she wanted. The young man groaned and Andrea knew her mother had found it.
Ester then began a sensuous dance, not really moving out of place, to the lazy rhythm of a record she had placed on the stereo. Andrea watched fascinated as her mother's hand twisted sinuously between their bodies and came to rest in the area of Larry's zipper. There was a zipping sound and her mother's manicured hand disappeared inside.
He nearly went berserk and tried to rip the negligee from Ester's plump body, but the older woman laughed triumphantly and backed away slightly, her hand still playing with him.
"Say it," she demanded, tightening her grip. "Tell me what you are. Tell me... "
With a moan, he lunged at her and burrowed his face in her ample breasts, wrapping his arms about her waist.
"Please," he grasped, his face crimson with passion. "I want you now. Please Ester... "
But Ester wriggled the negligee off her shoulders, allowing it to slide to her waist, and slipped agilely out of Larry's grasp as he lunged again for her.
"Tell me what you want," she gasped, breathing heavily.
"Tell me... "
With a sob, Larry grabbed her half-naked body and tore the negligee from her, exposing all of her ripe voluptuousness. Leering triumphantly and a bit drunkenly, he dragged her bodily toward the overstuffed couch, tearing off his clothing as he did so.
"I'm going to make you crazy," he promised. "I'm going to make you crawl and cry and beg before you get what you want. You're going to be so wild with wanting me that you're not going to be able to see straight... "
Her mother's face glowed with excitement, and Andrea turned away in sick disgust, her knees suddenly too weak to hold her up. She realized with a shock that she had absently been caressing herself and she hastily rebuttoned her pajamas. As she closed the door, she heard her mother's high-pitched giggle.
"Not in here, darling;," she squealed. "The baby might come home soon and we can't have her finding her old mother in this condition... "
She didn't hear his muffled reply, but a moment later the door to her mother's room was kicked shut.
Andrea lay awake for two hours listening to the raucous laughter, shrieks of delight, moans and bed creakings. The drink that Steve had given her had long since worn off and her nerves were shot because of the scene she had witnessed. But she was giddy with a new excitement--a perverse excitement--because while she had been listening to the sounds of lovemaking, she had been making plans of her own. She knew that in the morning her mother was going to suggest that a girl her age should know how to drive a car. How surprised her mother was going to be when she readily agreed!
Andrea smiled grimly. The last remnants of her innocence had been stolen from her tonight--by her own mother and by that despicable Larry. Well, she was going to teach them both a lesson that they wouldn't soon forget. If her mother wanted a little slut for a daughter, that was exactly what she was going to get! One slut coming up...
CHAPTER TWO
Larry sneaked a glance at the lovely dark-haired girl next to him as she inexpertly parked the car in the beach's parking lot. The kid was really asking for it, he told himself matter-of-factly. Like mother like daughter. And if she kept up those provocative gestures she was going to get it-- good and fast. Not that he had anything against playing on someone else's money--hell, he was certainly used to that-- but something about this character rubbed him the wrong way. All his life he had had to work for what he wanted-- except for women--and he resented a little spoiled pipsqueak like this one thinking she could buy him for eight dollars an hour.
"I suppose you're going to get a sports car for your birthday?" he drawled, as they got out of the car.
Usually he would walk around to the other side of the car and open the door for his female students, but this one was younger than usual and probably spoiled silly by all her dates--adolescents who were impressed by her fancy address and high-and-mighty manner.
Just as he was, he admitted grudgingly.
It didn't matter how refined she appeared to be on the surface. When you came right down to it they were all the same in the dark. In fact, this one was coming on so strong that he probably wouldn't even have to wait for it to get dark.
"Yes," she agreed casually. "I'm getting a car for my birthday--what else?"
Larry jammed his fists into the pockets of his dungarees and strode briskly across the parking lot, glancing behind once to see that the girl was trotting along behind him, trying to keep up. He kept up this brisk pace relentlessly until she broke into a run and grabbed him by the elbow.
"Do you resent the fact that my mother is buying me a car?" she asked softly.
He stopped abruptly, and looked at her.
"Of course not," he said harshly. "Why the hell should I care? If your folks have nothing better to do with their dough--"
"Yes," she continued glibly. "I'm getting this car so I can chauffeur orphan kids back and forth to picnics this spring."
Larry felt himself redden and looked hastily down at the sand where a small snail was gingerly making its way to some far-distant point. What an idiot he made of himself.
"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I thought you were just some spoiled--" He broke off abruptly as he realized with a shock that she was laughing at him. Why, the little bitch! He'd fix her for that...
"Come on," he snapped, taking her roughly by the arm.
"Where are we going anyway?" she squealed. "I thought we were going to drive."
"I thought we'd just enjoy the beach for a little while first," he said smoothly, flashing his most charming smile at her. "The beach is beautiful this time of year--don't you think so? No crowds, no rubbish, no filth... Besides, I think it might be a good idea if we got better acquainted before I attempt to teach you how to drive. As you probably know, there should be a strong rapport between driving instructor and pupil."
"How strong?" she said, pressing her body closer to his. "Very strong?"
So that was the way she wanted to play, was it? Well, winner take all...
He took her gently by the shoulders and looked down into her blue eyes. The little witch was a beauty, he realized resentfully. That was bad. While it would make what he had to do easier, there was always the risk that he could get hooked on her. It hadn't happened yet--this was her second lesson---but he would have to watch his step and be doubly careful. He had an inborn appreciation of beauty that was so strong it was almost a weakness.
"As strong as you want it to be," he said huskily, giving her shoulders an almost imperceptible squeeze.
To his surprise, the girl drew away from him uncomfortably. He had fully expected her to be in his arms by this time. That was what usually happened. He looked at her questioningly, a hint of hurt and invitation in his brown eyes. It was an extremely effective gaze, he knew. It should be--he had practiced it often enough.
"Well, that's certainly a change of direction," she said demurely, chewing nervously on her lower lip.
"What do you mean?" he asked, moving a step closer to her so that he was practically touching her light woolen dress.
"Well," the girl began hesitantly, "I was under the impression I wasn't exactly your cup of tea... "
Perceptive chick, Larry admitted grudgingly. He would have to watch himself, keep the conversation from getting too deep, or the next thing he knew she'd be psyching him out. No, the best thing to do would be to give her her kicks, pass her on to Gus, his boss, and let nature take its course...
"Why don't we take our shoes off?" he suggested, pulling off his loafers and dropping them on the sand. The girl shrugged and obediently bent down to remove her shoes. He followed the direction of her hand, to her legs. The feet, encased in nylons, were small, the ankles trim, and the calves and knees in pleasing proportion.
Damn her! he groaned inwardly. If she'd only give him some legitimate excuse for the rancor he felt towards her-- even if it were only thick ankles. Even Mother Nature was against him, it seemed.
He grabbed her hand suddenly and they ran along the beach together. He felt the warmth of her small hand, locked in his, and squeezed it compulsively, pulling her at the same time closer to the shoreline. He laughed as a wave broke against her ankles and she yelped.
"Chicken?" he teased. "Want to retreat?"
For answer she tightened her grip on his hand and dragged him deeper into the water. They ran together like two children through the icy water, their laughter becoming wilder and wilder as the water splashed way up to their waists.
Out of breath, they finally stopped, running and their salty lips found each other in a windy, tantalizing embrace. This was life. This was the extreme of physical excitement, he thought.
He looked down into her face and saw that she, too, was caught in the sensual urgency of the moment. He lifted her up and carried her to the drier part of the white sand and put her down, not ungently.
His emotions were mixed. He felt tenderness for this little girl yet, at the same time, he felt a raw desire to give her what she had been hinting at, tantalizing him for, daringly and invitingly.
He stood there, towering over her, pondering his next move. But she gave him no time to make up his own mind. She grabbed his legs and pulled him down on top of her. He kissed her with raw violence, feeling her firm young body arch beneath him, squirming with uncontrolled movements which instantly dispelled any doubts, any reasoning, any hesitation.
Oh baby, he thought. If that's what you want, that's what you're gonna get. He slipped his wet pants off his legs, removed his wet jockey shorts and started to undress Andrea. He pushed her wet dress up to her waist and slid his hands into her panties. She gasped under his rough hands, and pleaded; "Please be gentle, be gentle, please darling... "
Her whispered plea slowed him down somewhat and he proceeded with more care, faking a gentleness he didn't feel. He had some difficulty getting her wet panties down her legs, but when he finally succeeded, he pressed himself between her legs, which reluctantly gave way. He felt her reluctance and was somewhat surprised. He had been under the impression that she had been born ready, that she would be ready to devour him the moment he came close to her. Perhaps he had been too rough, too direct. It wasn't like him to be so gauche and thoughtless.
He took her face between his hands and kissed her softly, mumbling soothing words like "darling"
"my love" and he felt her melt slowly and begin to respond to him.
"Yes, my love, give yourself to me," he whispered in her ear. "This is it. Take me, my love... all of me... "
He felt her resistance waver, then melt completely. Slowly, her legs spread wider and suddenly he took her, roughly, without consideration.
Her scream was devastating. She shoved him off her as though he were weightless, and began to beat at him with her tiny fists.
"Beast, beast, you horrible beast!" she sobbed hysterically.
* * *
When he reported back to the driving school office two hours later, his boss, Gus Sayers was sprawled out in his king-size chair, one large foot draped unceremoniously on the cluttered desk.
"Well, well, you're an hour late, lover boy. Hope she was worth it," he said coarsely, running a stubby finger through his thinning black hair.
In the mood he was in, Larry felt the urge, as he had many times in the past, to drive his fist through that greasily attractive face. But he knew that if nothing had driven him to it b" now. nothing ever would. Not that it wouldn't give him great pleasure to smash that smug face in. but he stood to lose too much. Even though he secretly hated Gus' guts, he couldn't afford to antagonize him. Larry needed the money desperately. He wanted to save enough money to allow him to bum around the country in comfort. He had tried driving a truck and working in a filling station and hadn't particularly cared for either. When he had heard about this job with Gus Sayers, it had seemed like something right up his alley. If he wanted to travel in style he would have to prostitute himself for one short year. Sometimes, like now, he wondered if it was worth it.
"Well, was she?" Gus rasped impatiently.
"Was she what?" Larry asked dully.
"Worth it, you idiot!" the man snapped. "The broad... "
Larry fought down a bitter laugh. He still felt a little sick to his stomach about the whole ugly scene. How was he supposed to know that the kid had been a virgin? She certainly hadn't come on like one, despite what her mother thought. He knew that, logically, he shouldn't blame himself for the disastrous results of their lovemaking, yet he couldn't fight down an uneasy feeling that he had been irresponsible and thoughtless. When he had gotten over his initial shock at the girl's reaction, and she had finally calmed down enough to verify his contention that she had been a virgin, he had been badly shaken. Hell, he might have the right to prostitute himself but he certainly hadn't the right to drag a dumb little girl into the gutter with him. Even if she was lovely and would have made delightful company. He cursed her, irrationally. After all, he hadn't felt any qualms about what he was doing for a long time now--and now this stupid little broad had to remind him that he had a conscience. Damn her anyway. Damn damn damn...
"No," he said slowly, avoiding Gus' beady eyes. "She wasn't worth it. She was a real dog, man. A real dog."
Sayer's face fell for a moment, and then he looked at Larry suspiciously.
"So if she was such a dog, how come you took so long with her at the beach, pray tell?" he demanded.
"That's why." Larry replied glibly. "She was so bad that it took me about a half hour to make myself respond to her. And it wasn't easy, believe me... "
He rolled his eves dramatically and Gus saw the joke and guffawed so long and loud that Larry felt a murderous urge to kick all of his capped teeth down his throat.
"Man, she must have been a dog if you couldn't go for her," Sayers chuckled raucously. "Oh well, can't win 'em all, I guess."
Larry gritted his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fists. One of these days... pow! Right in the kisser!
"Oh well," he shrugged philosophically. "It's just as well, Gus ole pal. You wouldn't have been interested in her anyhow. She had about as much life as a dead mackerel. There are lots more fish in the sea... " Gus was a real lover of cliches--the cornier the better--and Larry fed them to him whenever he remembered. It added to his feeling of superiority.
"Yeah," Sayers agreed, squinting his watery blue eyes so hard that Larry knew he had been drinking. "It's kind of too bad though--I was in the mood for some fresh young quail. I'm getting tired of the stable."
"Quail are not kept in stables," Larry said dryly, before he could control his tongue. "Besides, I brought you two new fillies in the past month. Surely you can't be tired of them so soon!"
"Oh, they're all right," Sayers agreed, shrugging his shoulders eloquently. "But they're already good and broken in. What I'm in the mood for is a fresh young body that hasn't really been broken yet. You know what I mean, pal? You read me?"
Larry nodded grimly.
"Yeah, Gus, I read you. Pal."
"Say, by the way, Lar, there's going to be another party on Friday night. How about it? You haven't shown up for the past three weeks."
"Yeah well, I've been busy," Larry said evasively. "You know how it is... "
"I do?" Gus said perplexedly. "Sorry pal, but I don't see how it is. I'm afraid I can't quite understand a guy who can't find the time to swing with a dame."
"I guess I'm just a square at heart," Larry said lightly, fighting a desperate desire to quit right on the spot. "Anyway, thanks for the invitation. I'll see if I can make it."
"Oh, don't thank me," Gus chuckled. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even be able to throw a shebang like this every few weeks. Don't think I don't appreciate your talent for luring fresh fish into my waters, my fine young stallion."
Larry waved and turned to leave, shaking his head sadly. Just as he reached the door, Gus called him back and he stopped without turning around, waiting impatiently to hear what his boss wanted now. He hated it when the fat man addressed him as "Hey!" It made him feel like a servant. A servant to a cretin, he thought resentfully.
"Yeah, what is it?" he asked, more roughly than he had intended. He'd have to watch himself in the future. Despite his crudeness, Gus was a super-sensitive guy and if he was ever crossed, forget it...
"Hey, do me a favor, will you?" Gus asked, already on his feet. "I gotta run out for a bite to eat---could you cover the phone for a couple of minutes till I get back?"
Larry nodded wearily.
"That's a good fella!" Gus boomed jovially, slapping Larry on the back so hard he nearly toppled over. "See you later."
He was gone before Larry could remind him to make it snappy. Larry knew damned well that Gus was not going out for "a bite to eat" but for another bottle of gin. He walked over to Gus' desk and peered into the waste basket alongside it. Sure enough there was an empty pint bottle.
Larry shrugged and sat down in the large swivel chair, putting his feet up on the desk in imitation of his boss. He didn't know what Gus found in that gin bottle, but maybe he'd try it himself one day and find out. As far as he was concerned, however, painting was intoxication enough for him--nothing on the face of the earth gave him the same satisfaction. Except, perhaps, a good woman. But that, of course, always wore off pretty quickly--usually five seconds after he had a climax. Then he would look at his bed partner in amazement and wonder what he had ever seen in her. Unfortunately for him, though, the woman never reacted that way. Usually she would be all over him, gushing that no man had ever satisfied her so excitingly and completely before. And then, she would try to really sink her claws into him and try to get him to marry her, or at least hang around so that she could keep him. As if he were some kind of yo-yo on a string, he thought resentfully. Who could blame him for being the way he was with women? They had never given him any more than he had given them. Less, in fact. He was an extremely talented and inventive lover and if he was taking advantage of the fact well, why not? Why shouldn't those rich bitches pay for his favors? Who the hell was it hurting?
Larry buried his head in his hands as the answer hit him hard. Larry Sands, that's who it was hurting. Despite the invisible shield he had tried to build up during the past year between his conscience and his ambition, the twain were now meeting. And the result was that he didn't like himself very much. Maybe he just ought to quit and... and what? Starve? no, starving sounded very romantic, but Larry was a realist and realists always managed to get fed.
The phone rang and he stared at it warily for several seconds as though it were an unknown enemy. Oh, what the hell, he thought--one more rich customer wouldn't hurt any. He hoped she knew the score though--at least better than that dumb little Andrea had. He knew it would be a female voice before he picked up the phone. Not that men didn't call for driving lessons, of course, but the odds were against it. Thanks to word of mouth, Larry's students were mainly wealthy, dissatisfied females who had been referred by their friends. Oh well, who was he to complain? Beggars couldn't be choosers, according to one of Gus' favorite cliches.
He picked up the telephone receiver and put on his sexiest voice.
"Hel-lo... Sayers' Driving Academy... May I help you... "
There was a slight pause, then a slight giggle, followed by a husky feminine voice, "Whew!" the woman laughed. "That sounded very much like an invitation to a pillow fight. Or something... "
"Or something," Larry agreed insinuatingly, back in the groove again and growing excited by the unknown but seductive voice. This sounded like a cool cat, one who knew the score backwards and forwards--exactly what he was in the mood for right now to erase the memory of that beautiful little baby Andrea from his mind and conscience.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" he continued, making his voice deeper.
"I'm beginning to wonder," the sexy voice replied. "I'm really beginning to wonder. What exactly did you have in mind?"
Larry blinked, startled. This wasn't going quite according to plan. Usually the woman would call and make an appointment for a driving lesson and he would take it from there, after the pretext--which they all seemed to need--of one or two lessons. That was another thing Larry resented about them--their hypocrisy. If they wanted to get sex lessons, why pretend they wanted to learn him to drive? Oh well, at least this one sounded different and it was extremely refreshing.
"Whatever I have in mind shouldn't be said over the telephone," Larry laughed warmly.
There was a momentary silence and Larry had a vision of this unknown sex goddess raising her painted eyebrows as she reclined on her divan in a satin negligee with feathers at the sleeves and hemline.
"That sounds very mysterious and fascinating," she replied huskily. Larry noted a slight slur in her voice and surmised that she had a large glass of scotch in her well-manicured hand.
"Why don't you make a... driving lesson and find out," he flirted. "You might find that... driving lessons are the answer to your prayers. Would you care to make an appointment, Mrs. uh... "
"Perhaps, sometime in the near future," she replied, with a note of amusement in her voice. "But does Mr. Sayers happen to be around?"
Larry felt suddenly disappointed. Was this one of Gus' rejects, for godssakes? Well, he had better make sure.
"Are you a friend of his?" he inquired politely.
There was a raucous laugh at the other end of the wire.
"You could say that if you wish," she muttered.
"Well, Gus isn't here right now," Larry said uncertainly. "He's gone out for some lunch."
"Yes, I know exactly what you mean," she laughed knowingly. "Well, it doesn't matter--it really wasn't too important."
"I can have him call you back," Larry said hastily. "Whom should I say is calling?"
"Pearl sweetie," the woman murmured. "The jewel of his life. By the way, what did you say your name was, honey?"
"Larry--Larry Sands," he murmured. "I work for Gus. I'm sort of his assistant... "
"How interesting," she said thoughtfully. "Gus never mentioned you before and I think I'm beginning to see why... "
She hung up before Larry could pin her down further about making an appointment.
He laughed uneasily as he hung up, but he was deeply aware of the fact that his hands were trembling slightly. Was it a premonition of some impending disaster, he wondered? No, of course not--it was simply that he needed some sleep. As soon as Gus got back, he was going to go straight to his dingy little apartment and get into a warm, comfortable bed. Alone, for a change...
Gus popped up a few minutes later with a brown paper bag clutched in his grimy, pudgy hands and a silly smile on his blubbery lips.
"Okay, you can cut out, pal," he grinned, patting his paper bag. "I've got me some good company for the rest of the afternoon. Meet Miss Gin... "
Larry laughed politely, despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He got up from the swivel chair and headed for the door.
"Well, see you tomorrow, Gus," he muttered.
"Yeah. Hey, by the way, were there any calls?" Gus asked, plopping into his chair and tearing the pint of gin from the brown paper.
"No," Larry replied, staring at a spot over Gus' head. "Nobody called."
CHAPTER THREE
After a light breakfast of coffee and a buttered roll, Andrea Markham flopped across her bed with an exaggerated sigh of relief. Shutting her dark-fringed eyes, she allowed herself to relax and gave herself to the delicious sensations of weariness that flooded her young body.
It seemed like forever since she had slept last, she thought wistfully, remembering the long sleepless night she had suffered through. All night long she had lain awake and tortured herself about the immature way she had handled her very first sexual experience yesterday afternoon. She had gone all to pieces like an hysterical child. At first she had tried to shift the whole blame on Larry Sands for his inept handling of the situation and for his outright insensitivity, but when she had finally calmed down somewhat, she had realized that she was partially to blame for deliberately misleading him into thinking she was a woman of the world--although after the plan he had cooked up with her mother it served him right!
Andrea giggled now as she remembered the dumbfounded expression on his face when he discovered that she was a virgin, after all. She was glad that she was able to see the humor in the situation now, because she had been deeply distraught yesterday. Somehow, things never seemed too serious during the day.
She rose from the bed and gazed unseeing through the window that overlooked Central Park West. Andrea would have been willing to move to a less fashionable part of the city, but her mother had claimed she would meet a better class of people here, so they had stayed on after her parent's divorce. Her mother had said a million times, if once, that Andrea should only have the best of everything. That was how it had been all her life and how, she imagined, it would always be. What a bloody bore.
She glided over to her dressing table, her hips moving provocatively even though there was no male present to appreciate the sight. But there it was in nutshell---Andrea Markham, the epitome of sexuality ever since she was a budding Venus in her early teens. There had always been a sensuousness about her, a natural aura of sensuality that attracted men like moths to a flame or like bees to honey. A honey that no man could honestly claim to have tasted. Until yesterday...
She glanced at her image in the pretty gilt-edged mirror and suddenly remembered a remark that one of her beaus had recently made: "Eyes like blue ice and a heart made of asbestos... "
Andrea smiled impishly at her reflection, allowing the sapphire-blue eyes to melt beguilingly. Wouldn't that beau be surprised if he knew that she had allowed a relative stranger to make love to her on a deserted beach? She had thought many times before, of just giving in to the next male who wanted her, just so that she'd have an opportunity to find out what all the shouting was about. But, somehow, she had never been able to force herself to compromise. Her dates were all boys and she wanted a red-blooded man.
A man, according to her philosophy, was someone who understood when "no" meant "yes."
She had sensed this quality in her driving instructor, Larry Sands, and because she was attracted to him and because he seemed disinterested in her, she had decided that he would become her first lover. It hadn't surprised her that he had been willing to take her--she had wanted him, and she usually got what she wanted. What had surprised her was the way she had reacted to his lovemaking. Was she what they called a "cold woman?" She had practically forgotten that she was part of a package deal.
Andrea brushed back a flyaway strand of black hair, and sighed wistfully. What must Larry think of her? That she was just a cheap little tease who enjoyed getting men all stirred up for her own amusement? Oh, the hell with what he thought of her--he hadn't exactly been the epitome of the perfect lover himself. And yet, she couldn't help but wonder whether she would ever see him again and have the opportunity to make things right. She had to prove to herself that she was a real woman.
Andrea went over to her full-length mirror to reassure herself that her anxiety was senseless. Even in the powder blue bathrobe she was wearing she was an unusually attractive female. Of course, she always looked her best in blue,' she observed objectively. It went so well with her deep-set blue eyes and creamy complexion, not to mention her long raven hair with the piquant scattering of bangs. She scarcely looked her eighteen years.
So far so good, she approved proudly. Now to examine the rest of the merchandise. She pulled open the terry cloth robe and allowed it to slide past her provocative young breasts, her slender waist and sleek hips. When the robe lay in a lifeless pile at her ankles, she daintily stepped out of it and tossed it on her bed before turning to re-examine herself. She never tired of studying her newly-developed beauty--it seemed like only yesterday that she had been a gawkily thin little girl who was afraid of her own shadow.
She hugged herself and shuddered deliciously as she remembered the way Larry's body had felt on her bare hot flesh as she had lain on the sand yesterday. Suddenly it seemed better now than it had actually felt at the time it was happening. Perhaps that was always the way it was the first time, she mused. The only way to find out was to give herself and Larry a second chance. This time, she vowed, she would show him just how much of a woman she could really be. She was going to make him forget every other woman he had ever gone to bed with. And when Andrea made up her mind about something, there was no holding her back...
Forty-five minutes later, she got out of the taxi cab and entered the office of the driving school. She glanced around as she entered. Larry didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.
But there was a husky man with dark greasy hair who was sitting behind the desk and running his tongue over his lips as he stared at her, making a detailed survey of her luscious anatomy with his beady blue eyes.
"Excuse me," she began, ill-at-ease, "can you tell me where I can find Mr. Sands... "
"Where do you think you lost him, honey?" the man replied, guffawing at his own humor.
Andrea smiled weakly, feeling irrationally repulsed by this slimy character. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, after all, to come here looking for Larry. Perhaps she should have phoned first.
"I'm Andrea Markham," she explained nervously, aware of his watery blue eyes boring through the material of her blouse. "I'm taking driving lessons with Mr. Sands. He didn't show up this morning and I was wondering if he were sick... "
The fat man's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head.
"You--you're Andrea Markham?" he gasped incredulously.
"Why--why yes," the girl murmured. "Isn't that all right?"
The man smiled sheepishly, but Andrea thought she noticed a dark cloud of anger in his eyes.
"Yes, of course," he laughed. "It's just that I wasn't quite prepared for you... According to the description Larry gave me of you... "
Andrea stiffened, but she looked the man directly in the eye.
"What exactly did Mr. Sands say about me?" she asked lightly, forcing a smile.
"He said," the man replied, "that you were--a dog."
Andrea felt a cold chill go through her body and she sat down on the leather armchair opposite the desk. So he thought she was a dog, did he? A burning anger grew in her, mixed with a deep hurt. No man had ever called her a dog before and she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She was going to get even with him if it was the last thing she ever did.
"I guess the joke's on me, huh?" the man chuckled. "Pretty funny, isn't it, Larry holding out on me... "
Hilarious," Andrea replied dryly, not taking in the meaning of his comment. "Absolutely hilarious."
"By the way, my name's Gus," he said, watching her face with interest. I'm Larry's boss. The kid's not here right now--he called in sick. If you like, I'd be delighted to give you a driving lesson today... "
"Well, I don't know," Andrea said doubtfully. "I mean--"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about Larry," Gus brushed her protestations away. "He won't give a damn. He's a funny guy. Doesn't give a damn about anything but---" The office door opened and slammed and Larry Sands breezed in.
"Hi Gus. I decided to work today, after all," he said matter-of-factly. "What time's my next appointment?" I guess I missed the first one with--"
"Meet Miss Markham--the dog," Gus said deliberately, his lips thin with anger.
Larry froze as he turned to see Andrea seated behind him.
"What--what are you doing here?" he blurted.
"I was under the impression I had a driving lesson with you this morning," she said sweetly, inwardly seething.
Larry blushed.
"But I thought that after yesterday you'd... "
"No, Mr. Sands--I don't happen to be a quitter," Andrea said meaningfully. "I'm paying you to teach me how to drive and I have no intentions of giving up until I'm an expert."
In the moment that Larry hesitated, Gus stood up decisively, walked around his desk and put his arm heavily about Andrea's shoulders. She tried her best not to cringe.
"Okay honey, let's go. I'll show you what a great teacher is really like!" Gus winked at Larry over her head. Andrea caught the gesture and a slight shudder went through her.
Larry blocked the doorway of the office with a quick, panther-like motion.
"Trying to take away my customers, Gus?" he said lightly, but there was a cutting edge to his voice.
Gus shoved him out of the way with one brush of his brawny arm.
"Don't worry, son, you'll still get your commission for this one," he said as he steered Andrea possessively through the doorway. "Just one thing--don't ever try to pull a fast one on me again or you're out of a cushy job, son... Oh yes, stay here and answer the phone till I get back."
Perplexed, Andrea looked from Gus, whose eyes were slitted angrily, to Larry. She was amazed to see that the young man's face was contorted with a seething rage. He met her eyes momentarily and she thought she detected a change of expression on his handsome face--was it compassion or warning?--but he averted his eyes before she could be sure.
Gus hustled her out and called back over his shoulder, "I may be late, Larry boy... "
Andrea's mind was not on driving and she made one mistake after the other. Luckily the car had dual control, she thought, or they'd both be in smithereens by now.
"I'm afraid I'm a little out of it today," she apologized with a devastating smile, "but I didn't get much sleep last night." She yawned sensuously to stress the point, but Gus brushed off her apology.
"That's all right. I'm used to it," he said.
"Meaning what?" she demanded.
"Women drivers," he chuckled, patting her mini-skirted thigh reassuringly.
"Do you have something against women?" she asked coyly, moistening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue.
"They're all right in their place," he said noncommittally.
"In bed?" she blurted daringly.
"Yeah," he agreed, looking her straight in the eye. "In bed."
Andrea looked away, feeling a bit flustered by his directness. She tugged self-consciously at her skirt, trying to cover her knees. She thought she heard him stifle a chuckle, but when she looked at him he was coughing.
"Well, you seem to have a working knowledge of the dashboard, but maybe you ought to study the driver's manual for a few minutes before we actually let you drive on your own," he suggested.
They had driven upstate because Gus had suggested that the autumn landscape shouldn't be missed, and besides that the traffic would be lighter up there. Andrea had agreed, and now they pulled into a small dirt road. Andrea concentrated on the rust and gold landscape while Gus concentrated on her legs.
Andrea took the manual that he held out to her, purposely letting her fingers brush his. She knew that Larry had been upset because she had gone with his boss and the thought made her feel strangely perverse. A dog indeed!
She pretended to study the booklet intently for a while, but actually the words were a blur to her, as she tried to figure out some way to get even with Larry.
She leaned towards Gus, so close that she was able to get a whiff of his after-shave lotion. It was intermingled with the aroma of cigar smoke and made for a strong aura of masculinity. She had never been with an older man before and the thought made her blood tingle in anticipation.
"It says here," she said shakily, pointing with one neatly manicured fingernail, "to depress the clutch in order to disengage the motor. Am I doing it right?"
He nodded approvingly as she pantomimed the action.
"Good girl," he said, patting her hand approvingly. "Is there anything else you aren't sure about?"
Andrea slid down in the deep bucket seat and buried her pert nose in the pamphlet again, her eyes darting occasionally to the dashboard as though she were trying to figure something out. She glanced up at him once to ask a question about the shifting of gears, but his eyes were focussed elsewhere. On her dimpled knees, to be exact.
Andrea realized that her skirt--short to begin with--had ridden high up on her thighs, exposing a tantalizing portion of her smooth white flesh. Her first impulse was to yank it down to a more demure level, but her feminine instincts got the better of her prudence and she let it remain where it was.
She continued to stare unseeingly at the driving manual, extremely conscious of the man's gaze burning into her bare flesh. She allowed her own eyes to flicker briefly over the exposed area and felt oddly excited at the thought that he was also viewing it. that a complete stranger was staring at her partial nakedness. She'd bet anything he was dying to see the rest of her. Well, almost anything...
"What's so funny?" he asked hoarsely, as she giggled.
"This sign," she murmured, looking at him through lowered lashes, "SOFT SHOULDERS--DANGER AHEAD... "
He caught her meaning and guffawed loudly.
"Just for the record," he grinned, "that means that the asphalt stops and there's only dirt. Makes for dangerous driving if you don't know it's coming up... "
"Thank goodness for warning signals," Andrea retorted recklessly. "It always helps to know what you're up against."
"Er, yes, well... do you think you've got the idea now?" he said, looking intently into her eyes.
"I'm ready if you are," Andrea smiled, handing the booklet back to him and seeing to it that their fingers brushed again. She knew she was getting in over her head and yet she couldn't stop herself. All she kept thinking about was disproving Larry's description of her. The next time he saw her he was going to see a real woman. And what better teacher was there than an older, experienced man? Especially one that Larry seemed to have a grudge against? She'd show him a thing or two. Even if she had to destroy herself in the process.
Gus glanced down at his lap self-consciously.
"Yeah, I'm ready all right," he said wryly.
"Does that bother you?" she asked, referring to his obvious reluctance to acknowledge the effect she was having on him. Suddenly she was beginning to enjoy herself. It gave her an overwhelming feeling of power to see that she, a relatively naive eighteen-year-old, was shaking up a man old enough to be her father. But more important, a man who was her lover's boss! It certainly felt good to be holding the reins once more...
"Hey! What do you think you're doing!" she gasped, as his hand shot beneath her mini-skirt and pressed against her panties.
Gus chuckled amusedly.
"I'll give you one guess, sweetie pie," he rasped, tightening the pressure.
Andrea's traitorous body arched involuntarily as his fingers toyed with her most intimate secrets. She felt as though she were in the grip of some man-eating plant that kept squeezing and then loosening the pressure on her flesh. Although her first impulse was one of anger and shock, another reaction quickly took over, and it was stronger than the first.
"Take your hands off me, you filthy pig!" she screamed.
But Gus only laughed and slid his fleshy hand beneath the waistband of her panties. When she began to struggle frantically, he mashed his lips against her mouth in a grinding kiss and held it until she showed signs of giving up the struggle.
Andrea thought she would gag as he thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth, all the while grunting and panting like a fat pig. She tried vainly to shove him away from her by beating her fists against his brawny chest, but that only struck him funny.
"Shh, easy baby--take it easy," he crooned. "Nobody around here to hear you anyway. As though you want to be helped! You've only been begging for this from the moment we got into the car, so don't pull this crap with me... "
And then his hand began moving again and he started to croon into her ear, his breathing hot and heavy and unpleasant.
Andrea clenched her eyes tightly as his fingers burrowed deeper.
"Sweet baby," he murmured, his eyes wild with excitement as she squirmed against him. He mistook her frantic motions for acquiescence and increased the rhythm and intensity of his caresses until Andrea screamed out in pain.
"I'm not going to do anything you won't like," he breathed hotly into her ear, and his fingers dug deeper and deeper until the discomfort turned to an oddly pleasurable sensation that Andrea had never experienced before. Her buttocks began to squirm impulsively as though they wanted more, as though they were some separate entity totally unrelated to her.
Andrea knew that she was lost. Even though her mind kept warning "no no" her traitorous body wanted only to have more and more of the exquisite sensation, wanted it to go on forever.
She opened her eyes briefly, stared through the windshield at the autumnal haze of trees and blue sky overhead. Then she sighed, closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, shutting her mind to everything but the delightful darts of ecstasy that were spiralling throughout her body.
The more the crude man's indelicate fingers probed her flesh, the more excited and hot her body seemed to become. This crudeness went against everything she had ever been taught, and yet she couldn't stop every fiber of her being from responding to his lovemaking. Worse, she no longer had any desire to stop.
"That's it baby," he whispered heatedly, "move it, baby, move it for ole Gus. Come on, little baby, that's it... "
Andrea's hips responded urgently to his instructions and began to move wildly, crazily, faster.
"Yes, yes, yes," she sobbed. "Faster, Gus, faster... Oh, you're going to drive me out of my mind... Hurry... "
Gus groaned delightedly at her uninhibited enthusiasm and he pressed his mouth against her, slobbering passionately onto her chin. But Andrea was too delirious to be bothered. The tickling and stroking drove her wild and she raked her nails across his back. At first he worked slowly and steadily. Then faster and steadily. Andrea moaned. Then he was working rapidly, and she gasped and tensed and fell limp, gasping fro breath.
"Whew, what a woman!" Gus said admiringly, as he lit a cigarette for her and one for himself. "No wonder that punk didn't want to share you... "
Andrea took the cigarette dully and placed it between her lips. She was too numb to completely comprehend what he was insinuating. Finally it began to penetrate.
"Did you say something about Larry?" she asked dully, staring out of the car window. Some driving lesson this had turned out to be, she thought ruefully. "What about Larry?" she repeated, the name suddenly tasting bitter on her lips.
But the only answer she received was a grunt and a sucking sound. She glanced down as she felt a draft and realized that her blouse and brassiere were unbuttoned, and Gus was getting ready to feast on her bare breasts.
She tried to push his head away but it was useless. His voracious mouth was fastened on her nipple and he had no intention of releasing it. To her dismay, her nipple stiffened and Gus laughed triumphantly.
"Hot little baby. aren't you?" he approved. "Never enough, eh? Well, that's fine with me... "
Andrea moaned as her breasts became swollen and peaked with passion. Her moans encouraged Gus and he caught the other nipple between his teeth and teased it mercilessly. Andrea shoved him away viciously so that he nearly fell off the seat. His sweaty face contorted with anger and passion.
"Did you fight Larry off, too?" he snarled, grabbing a breast roughly and kneading it. "Huh, did you? Wait till I tell him--"
"No," Andrea cried out. "Forget Larry... "
"I'd like to," he grumbled, cupping a breast in one hand and lolling it about as though it were a ping pong ball. "Imagine the nerve of that guy," he mumbled half to himself, "telling me you were a dog just so I wouldn't get my hands on you... "
He buried his mouth in her flesh again, obviously unaware that she was no longer dizzy with desire.
Andrea looked down at him coldly. All at once, things were beginning to make a bit more sense to her. What an idiot she had been. Larry had only been trying to protect her from this boor! She tried to shove the big head from her body, but she couldn't budge it.
"Please," she pleaded finally, "leave me alone. This was all a mistake... "
Gus lifted his head and grabbed her hand, placing it forcibly on his lap.
Andrea drew her hand away in shock and disgust.
"No, no!" she cried, as he pulled it back again, pressing it tightly against his maleness. "I can't, I can't... "
"Touch me, baby," he gasped, his eyes dull with passion. "Hold me, little girl, touch me... "
Andrea pulled away in disgust and reached for the door handle. She was stopped by a viselike grip on her thigh and she cried out in pain and fear.
"What the hell do you think you're pulling," he snarled. "You had your kicks, now it's my turn... "
"You don't understand," Andrea said desperately, her eyes wild with fear and desperation. "I only let you--touch me because I wanted to get even with Larry. I--" Gus Sawyer's eyes narrowed in perverse amusement as realization suddenly hit him.
"Oh, so that's the way it is," he rasped, tightening his grip on her thigh so that she winced. "So you were just using me... "
"No, that's not true," she cried, frightened by the look in his eyes. "I didn't plan any of this--believe me. I just thought it would make Larry jealous if--" Gus pressed his sweaty face close to her own, so close that his thick lips were almost touching her own.
"You wouldn't like Larry to find out about the... fun... we had out here today, would you?" he asked threateningly, flicking his tongue deliberately over her lips.
Andrea stiffened as she sensed a threat. She would rather die then have Larry find out what an idiot she had made of herself, what she had permitted his gross boss to do to her.
"That's what I thought," he chuckled unpleasantly, replacing her hand between his legs and clamping them together.
"Would you do anything to make sure your Larry doesn't find out how easy you are... ? he crooned. "Hmmm? What would you do for that insurance, little girl... "
Andrea placed her fingers defeatedly on the zipper of his trousers and lowered her head.
"Anything," she mumbled dully. "Anything... "
CHAPTER FOUR
Larry sat behind Gus' desk and kept his eyes glued to the big clock on the opposite wall. The hands continued to move ahead, relentlessly, mockingly. Three hours had passed since Gus had left with Andrea, and Larry felt sick to his stomach at what he imagined must be taking place. He gnashed his teeth in silent rage as he contemplated what he was going to do to Gus if he so much as laid one finger on the girl. Not only was Gus not going to be able to handle a car when Larry was through with him, he was not going to be able to handle a woman...
"Well, well, well... " a sultry voice broke into his unwholesome thoughts. "You're as great live as you are over the phone."
Startled, Larry's head shot up. A statuesque, platinum-haired blonde was filling the doorway and her emerald-green eyes were shooting sparks in his direction.
Larry gulped twice.
"What's the matter, sweetie--lose your tongue?" she murmured huskily, as she slithered towards him. "Maybe I can help you find it... " she added insinuatingly.
"Uh, do you have an appointment today, Miss... " Larry stammered, aware of her voluptuous shadow falling across the papers on the desk. "We work by appointment, you know... "
The woman bent down and pretended to go over the schedule with him, looking for her name. Her large breasts, encased in a fuzzy yellow sweater, brushed his cheeks caressingly as though by accident and Larry jumped as if he had been electrocuted.
"I'm afraid I forgot to make an appointment," the Amazon smiled. "Do you suppose you might make an exception in my case?"
Larry hesitated. He knew that he ought to wait around and watch the office until Gus returned, but at the thought of Gus, renewed fury claimed him. The hell with Gus Sayers and his damned auto school. From now on, Larry Sands looked out for nobody but Larry Sands.
"It's all right, honey," the woman cooed. "Gus won't mind." At his surprised look, she explained, "I spoke to you on the phone yesterday afternoon. Don't you remember?"
It all came back to Larry then---the sultry voice on the telephone. The one he had neglected to tell Gus about.
"Oh yes, you said you were a friend of Gus', didn't you?" he said, forcing himself to smile pleasantly. "Well, in that case, I'm sure it would be all right although it is against our policy. Any friend of Gus' is a friend of mine... "
He allowed his eyes the luxury of lingering impertinently on the inviting bulges under her sweater. She struck a provocative pose obligingly to make his inspection easier. Her own eyes, Larry noticed, were taking their own inventory of his physique and he tried not to squirm beneath her avid scrutiny.
"Have you ever driven a car before, Mrs.--" he began.
"Call me Pearl, baby," she gushed.
"Pearl baby, would you like to start with automatic control or shift?" he grinned. "Anything you say," she murmured, "I'm in your hands."
And quite a handful, Larry thought wryly.
Pearl slipped her arm through Larry's and together they left the office. When they were out on the street he noticed a streamlined lavender convertible double-parked. While the color wasn't particularly to his liking, the car was a dream.
"Nice job," he said admiringly. "Must have cost a fortune. I wouldn't mind having a beaut like that someday."
"If you're a real good boy. I might let you drive it," Pearl said lightly.
" "It--it's yours?" Larry gasped.
"Sure," she said easily. "How do you think I get around?"
Larry angrily removed her arm from his. "Then why all this crap about needing driving lessons?" he snapped.
"Who said anything about needing driving lessons?" she shrugged. "I just want to buy an hour of your time. Maybe more--who knows?"
Suddenly she began to come through loud and clear and Larry didn't like what he was hearing. It made him furious, in fact. What the hell did she take him for anyway?
"You've got the wrong boy, lady!" he snapped.
"I doubt that," she replied icily, running a well-manicured finger up and down his chest. "Of course, if it makes you feel better to use the pretense of giving driving lessons, well, we've all got our hangups... "
Larry frowned, knowing in his heart that she was right, that he as being a hypocrite. All the facades and rationalizations in the world couldn't cover up the fact that he was a stud, and the sooner he faced the bitter fact the easier life would be. A man was no more than his actions, his father used to say.
"All right, Pearl baby. You win. Where would you like to go?"
"I made a reservation for lunch at the Flagston, for starters," she announced matter-of-factly. "After that, we'll take it by ear."
"Pretty damned sure of yourself, aren't you?" he growled resentfully. "What if I turned you down?"
"Oh, you won't," she said confidently. "Besides, I've got lots of friends who would be delighted to have--lunch with me. We'll take my car. You drive.
She was in the convertible before he could object, and he slid behind the wheel sulkily. Despite his fury, he was eager to see how the car handled, and it lived up to his previous expectations. But that bitch! If there was one thing he detested, it was a bossy broad. Especially one who was paying for his services. Services. The word filled him with self-loathing and he wallowed in it. He was going to wallow in mud--until he was so low down that the only direction he could go would be up. Maybe he would be a better person for it in the end.
He glanced over at Pearl's thigh, the fleshy portion exposed by her too short skirt. Then he laughed bitterly at himself. Who was he trying to kid? He was going to have a ball. Period. Why did that damned conscience of his have to start acting up anyway. He needed it like he needed another hole in the head.
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Larry was in an apathetic frame of mind. It amused him when Pearl opened up the glove compartment and took out a blue striped tie which she handed to him.
"Here--you'll need this or they won't allow you in," she said briskly.
Unabashedly, Larry took the tie which looked vaguely familiar to him, draped it around his neck and tied the knot.
* * *
Five martinis and two hours later, Larry lay asleep in the hotel room which Pearl baby had so thoughtfully reserved for them. Apparently she had not counted on his passing out. But the mental strain he had undergone for the past day or so, plus the fact of five extra martinis on an empty stomach took their toll. All he wanted was a couple of hours sleep to shut the whole complicated world out.
But his ready, willing and able roommate, Pearl, had other ideas and Pearl baby was used to getting her own way. At first, he thought he was having a beautiful erotic dream, but after several minutes of the very intimate and exciting caresses he forced himself to open his eyes. Pearl, in all of her intoxicating blonde and voluptuous nudity, was crouched between his legs and her fingers and lips were doing delicious things to him.
"Cut it out," he moaned weakly. "Can't you see I'm in no shape to--" She laughed coarsely, her stubby, well-versed fingers making a sensuous trail up and down his body, from his hips to his groin and back again. Then her hand closed in on his bulging masculinity and she giggled.
"I'd say you were in great shape, lover," she whispered.
His emotions were mixed. He felt revulsion at her vulgarity and cheapness yet, at the same time, he felt a raw desire to give it to her. The thing she had been tantalizing him for. Suddenly his alcoholic haze fell away--far away.
"What are you waiting for, lover?" she said huskily, running her crimson nails through his hair. "Pearlie wants you now--give it to her good and hard, lover. I hurt for you... "
Her hips were writhing as though in agony and Larry, leaning over her now, was sexually enraged by her crude voice and gestures. Yet at the same time, something in him was repelled. But the animal in him won out and he slid down her body and pressed his mouth between her moist hot thighs.
"Tell Larry where it hurts," he gasped.
"Yes, yes there, lover," she said excitedly, as her broad hips arched to meet his searching mouth. "Kiss me there... kiss me there, lover... "
Larry pressed his lips against her damp flesh, burrowing deep into the core of her femininity.
"Ah, yes lover," she sobbed half-hysterically, her large, splendid body wriggling convulsively like a rag doll. "That's the way... Oh yes... "
Her groans incensed Larry further and he kissed her flesh so violently that she climaxed almost immediately, letting him know with a piercing scream and a great, shuddering of her voluptuous body. Then she lay back contentedly with a great sigh of fulfillment.
"You're the greatest, lover," she breathed happily. Then she turned over on her stomach and closed her eyes, apparently dismissing him.
But Larry was having none of that. He was so swollen and over-heated that he felt about ready to burst.
With one quick motion, he flung himself upon her. She gasped with astonishment as he came at her from the rear. He stifled her protest by placing his hands beneath her and pinching her already swollen breasts.
"Hey, what the hell do you think I am--a dog?" he snapped.
"You said it, not me," Larry replied ungallantly with a hard, rhythmic slam against her flesh for emphasis. He no longer cared about the proprieties--all he wanted was to get all he could from this delicious mountain of flesh. He nearly chuckled as she moaned, despite herself, and her curvaceous body arched beneath him, squirming with wild, involuntary abandonment that nearly drove him out of his mind.
"Okay baby," he whispered hotly, "you asked for it. Fasten your safety belt. Here I come... "
Pearl yelped as he slammed into her again and again, but instantly she matched his rhythm.
"Please, lover, gentler," she gasped as he aimed a particularly hard stroke.
Larry withdrew for a moment and rolled over her. Then he pressed himself between her thighs which gave way eagerly this time, as though she had been missing him. He felt her resistance melt away and he drove at her roughly.
Her scream was devastating--but this time it was one of pleasurable ecstasy.
She writhed frantically and their flesh merged in an everlasting, pulsating duet. Larry felt her body open wide to accept all of his strength, all of his manliness, all he had to give.
With a sob, she arched her body convulsively. Larry followed her crazy rhythmic pattern and with one last climatic push he broke her strength and she collapsed beneath his exploding pulsation. "You're too much, lover," she said weakly. "You're just too much."
Larry wished he had the strength to return the compliment.
Later, much later, as he was getting dressed, it occurred to him that he didn't even know her last name. Oh well, what the hell... when she had questioned him about himself he had been unwilling to divulge any information. "Just name, rank and serial number," he had joked.
She watched him dress now, emerald eyes focusing possessively and hungrily on his body. He could hardly recall now how many times he had taken her in the past four hours, but it was quite an impressive record. She brought him back to reality by shoving a one hundred dollar bill into the pocket of his slacks.
"It's okay," she said brusquely as she saw his expression. "My hubby's paying the bills. And, believe me, he's getting a bargain."
Larry was momentarily overcome by a wave of nausea but he fought it down, remembering the oath he had made to himself earlier. From now on he was going to be practical. He would be able to indulge in self-contempt when he was well out of this disgusting phase of his life. Right now, money was all that mattered. Money and having a ball. Hell, at least a million other guys would give their right arm to be in his position.
He bent over and kissed her right nipple--swollen and red-- fervently in gratitude. "Thank you, Madam," he said somberly. "I shall treasure these few hours forever."
Pearl giggled. "Oh you don't have to be so sentimental, lover boy. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on. I just can't believe you're for real and I'm going to have to keep reassuring myself."
Larry kissed her playfully on the back of her neck.
"Thank you again, Madam," he grinned. "I just hope my heart can stand the strain. You're really quite inspiring, you know. I might be dead in two weeks.
"Don't worry, lover," she murmured against his chest. "Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go."
"That's fine with me," Larry grinned, "but since we're going to be Siamese twins from now on, don't you think I'm entitled to know your full name?"
"Oh sure, lover boy," she said, looking into his eyes. "It's Mrs. Gus Sayer. But you can call me Pearl... "
CHAPTER FIVE
Andrea tingled with excitement as she dressed for Gus' party. Although she found him intolerable, she had accepted his invitation because she had a feeling that Larry was going to be there, too. She slipped into a black mini-dress with a seductive scooped neck. Her raven hair, which she brushed until it shone, hung loosely to her shoulders. A large pair of golden hoop earrings was the finishing touch and gave her and aura of wantonness that matched her mood perfectly.
Her experience with Gus had unleashed the last vestige of her reserve. From now on she was going to give full vent to her womanly desires. It was too late to continue to pre- tend that they didn't exist, that they weren't nagging away at her, begging for their freedom. Although the whole thing had begun as a perverse adventure, her sexual potential had been ignited and it was too late to put out the fire. Even though, she thought cynically, it was Larry she yearned for, Gus had been the one to add fuel to the flickering flame. Well, a fire was a fire was a fire...
The party began much the same as a hundred others she had attended, the only difference being that she drank a little too much a little too early in the evening. By the time midnight rolled around she was having a difficult time discerning faces and all the sounds in the large room seemed jumbled into one. She changed dancing partners frequently and did not object when she was held too tightly or when prying hands attempted to explore the map of her body. She allowed herself to be handed from one man to the next and handled by each in turn. She docilely rested her head against his chest, closed her eyes and, in her intoxicated state, enjoyed the sensation of being probed by male hands.
Suddenly she found herself held by strange yet familiar arms and she looked up, mildly curious.
Larry Sands was looking down at her with a smile that was nearly a frown.
"I believe we've met," he said, grinning at her shocked expression. "Although I must admit I nearly didn't recognize you."
Andrea looked at him hazily.
"Never saw you before in my life," she slurred. "But that's all right. I like strangers."
He chuckled and drew her close, holding her gently but not intimately. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for their first meeting, but then she remembered her new image and decided to play it cool. She closed her eyes and swayed against him.
"Do you want to go to bed with me?" she asked abruptly, and felt rewarded when Larry drew his breath in sharply.
"I just got here a little while ago," he said lightly. "Why, do I look sleepy to you?"
"Don't make a joke out of it," Andrea chided. "I never joke about a thing like sex. After all, there's got to be something sacred in this world."
Larry sighed and pressed her to him, stroking her hair, and she knew he was more than a little confused.
"How come?" Andrea demanded suddenly.
"How come---what?" Larry said, startled.
"How come you're not pawing me the way everyone else does? Don't you find me desirable?" she demanded, cocking her head flirtatiously.
Larry took her by the hand and led her off the dance floor. "Please accept my apologies," he grinned. "But I've been having some trouble with my driving hand this week and the doctor told me not to use it. So you see, it has nothing whatever to do with your undisputed desirability."
Andrea was growing increasingly resentful because she realized that he was going out of his way to treat her like a kid. Well, she'd teach him a lesson before the night was over.
"Get me another drink," she demanded imperiously. "No," he said, watching the other dancers. She blinked in disbelief. "What?"
"You've had enough. I've been watching you all evening and you've had enough to become a likely candidate for Alcoholics Anonymous," he went on, heedless of the danger signals that were beginning to flash in her eyes.
"Thanks for nothing, daddio," she flipped, turning from him and heading in the direction of the bar.
He was after her in a flash and grabbed her arm before she had taken five steps. "Wait a minute. Where you think you're going?" he asked anxiously.
Andrea twisted violently out of his grasp. "That's none of your damn business," she spat, humiliation and rage churning within her.
After a searching look, Larry turned no his heel and strode away.
A sharp twinge penetrated Andrea's intoxicated consciousness but vanished quickly as someone mercilessly pushed a glass into her hand. She glanced up to see a short, swarthy man with a flashy appearance grinning at her. She nodded her thanks for the drink and started to walk away.
A firm hand gripped her bare shoulder and remained there.
"Now that ain't polite, is it honey?" the man rasped. "I gotcha that drink, didn't I? The least you could do is to stay around and thank me for it."
Andrea's fingers tightened convulsively about the glass. She looked about for Larry but he was nowhere in sight. Besides, he probably wouldn't want anything more to do with her after tonight.
"I already thanked you," she said stiffly, starting to walk away again.
The grip on her shoulder tightened persistently. "Not the way I wanta be thanked, baby," he leered. "How about a little kiss?"
Andrea knew the moment of revulsion and panic as his beefy arms pulled her body against his own.
"Take your hands off me!" she cried, looking around desperately but not wanting to create a scene.
Then the man's thick lips closed down roughly upon Andrea's tender ones and his tongue rudely forced its way into her mouth. She gagged and with a violent shove thrust him away from her and before she could stop herself, tossed her drink into this sweaty face.
She gasped and turned to run, but wasn't quick enough. Her assailant had recovered sufficiently enough to reach for her. "Oh, a wildcat, eh," he snorted, catching his nails --oversized pinky ring and all--in her hairdo. He held her tightly by the hair while she writhed and struggled to free herself. With his free hand he yanked the sleeve off her right shoulder and ripped the dress down to her waist. Several of the other party-goers were aware of the disturbance by this time and dragged Andrea's assailant away and threw him out of the apartment. She gasped as she noticed her exposed breasts and let herself be led, gratefully, to the powder room by a tall, sympathetic redhead who had appeared from nowhere.
She looked up dully and moaned as she caught sight of her bedraggled reflection in the mirror. Her long black hair hung limply down her face, which had a yellowish cast due to the bad lighting in the powder room. One side of her new dress was ripped down to her waist, and a bared pale breast winked wantonly back at her.
Andrea tugged self-consciously at the torn material in a vain attempt to pull herself together. Finally she gave up and began to massage the reddening bruise on her left arm. It was all she could do to keep from giving in to the hysterical sobs that were building up inside her.
The redhead took in her anguish and gently brushed back the hair from Andrea's pale face, stroking the girl's temples in an attempt to ease the tension.
"Gee, honey, aren't you even going to cry or curse or something?" the redhead probed, now massaging Andrea's shoulders and back.
"What for?" Andrea murmured with a wan smile. "I've got no one to blame but myself."
"Oh, don't talk like that, honey. Here, lie down on the loveseat for a few minutes and you'll feel better."
Andrea let herself be led by the hand and had to admit that she did feel better in a reclining position, although her head was beginning to ache from all the gin she had consumed. She closed her eyes and offered no objection when the redhead knelt beside her and gently massaged her temples.
"Doesn't that feel good, dear?" the woman murmured, close to her ear.
"Mmm," Andrea agreed gratefully. "This is really awfully nice of you, but you don't have to stay with me anymore. Why don't you go back and enjoy the party?"
"Oh, I'd rather stay with you," the other replied. "I couldn't possibly enjoy myself knowing you were lying here by yourself. Imagine that lousy slob taking advantage of a sweet innocent kid like you," she added indignantly.
Andrea smiled slightly at the vehemence in her new friend's voice. She knew that the incident had been no one's fault but her own, because she had to try and show Larry what a big shot she was. All she had succeeded in doing was showing him that she was still wet behind the ears.
Her head began to throb again and she winced.
"Feeling pretty lousy, huh?" the redhead said sympathetically.
"My head feels like someone is using it for a bongo drum," Andrea admitted wryly. "Maybe I just ought to go home and get some sleep... If I wait for this headache to disappear I'll be here until doomsday... "
"Oh, nonsense," the woman laughed. "All you need is one of my very special treatments and you'll be floating on air in no time."
"I don't know why you're being so nice to me but I appreciate it," Andrea said warmly. "I wish there were something I could do to repay you. I feel better just knowing someone is with me. I'm afraid my nerves are pretty badly shot... "
"Hush child," the redhead urged. "Turn over on your tummy and close those beautiful blue eyes and Billie will make you feel just dreamy."
Andrea did as she was told and gave herself to the relaxing and pleasing ministrations of Billie's experienced fingers. She sighed softly as Billie's hands kneaded her neck and shoulders, touching all the tension spots and erasing them magically. When Andrea's body began to relax, she began to scratch her back with featherlight strokes, causing such delightfully erotic sensations that the girl squirmed slightly. Yet she did not resist or ask Billie to stop. Instead she let her eyes remain closed and gave in to the sensuous sensations that were beginning to flood her body. In another moment or two she would be asleep. Already her headache was forgotten along with her problems. All she wanted was for those knowing fingers to continue to pet and pamper her forever...
Slowly, ever so slowly, the redhead's hands wormed their way beneath Andrea until they were cupping her breasts. Then, the wonderful caressing motions began again. Andrea felt a vague alarm go off in her head, bet her body was enjoying itself too much to object. Those magic fingers were now touching the tips of her breasts and the pink nipples were becoming peaked under Billie's fingertips.
Andrea moaned softly, half-imagining in her sleepy state that those were Larry's hands that were teasing her so gently, Larry's lips nuzzling the back of her neck so tenderly, Larry's passionate breath coming in rapid gasps...
Andrea smiled in her sleep as Larry's hands snaked down her tummy and finally came to rest in the apex of her femininity, stroking, stroking. Gently at first, then becoming frantic...
Andrea awoke with a scream and she leaped to her feet, her hair dishevelled and her face flushed with shame and fury as she turned on the redhead who was looking up at her, sheepishly, from the floor.
"Oh, come on, honey--be a sport. You know you enjoyed it. Come on, baby, come back to Billie... Come on, little girl... " she crooned.
Andrea swayed and had to brace herself against the wall as a feeling of revulsion engulfed her. It seemed that she was sinking lower and lower without really trying. Without opening her eyes, she hissed through clenched teeth: "If you're not out of here when I open my eyes, I'm going to scream so loud... "
The redhead shrugged philosophically, got to her feet and left.
Andrea wept for a while, then dried her eyes and powdered her face. She was going home where she belonged. If, indeed, she belonged anywhere. There were nothing here but a bunch of sick people. If getting Larry meant coming into contact with these subhumans she could live without him. He was no better than the rest anyway.
She caught her reflection in the mirror as she turned to leave and stopped short. A shudder ran through her as it suddenly occurred to her that she had actually liked what that horrible woman had been doing to her. She, Andrea Markham, had actually enjoyed the forbidden caresses of a lesbian. Her blue eyes mocked her and she turned and fled.
She ran through the dark streets, vaguely aware that it had begun to rain but not caring. Maybe if she got wet enough, it would purge her of the forbidden caresses she had experienced the past few days--both Gus' and the redhead's. As if anything could wash away the soiled image of herself she carried in her tortured mind, she thought bitterly. It would probably stay with her forever.
Exhausted from running, she finally stopped to rest about ten blocks from her apartment. She leaned against an old red brick building and allowed herself the luxury of sobbing her heart out. Suddenly she was alerted to the sound of running footsteps. They were coming in her direction and they obviously belonged to a man. Panic seized her and she began to run again, blindly. She could hear the man gaining on her, shouting for her to stop. Andrea turned her head desperately to see how close he was to her, and in that split second slipped on the wet pavement.
She made no attempt to get up, but lay there with tears streaming down her cheeks, her head buried in her hands. There was no use trying to run away again, she thought with desperation, and she didn't have the strength to scream. By tomorrow, they would probably find her in a gutter someplace and they'd all be sorry. By they she meant her mother, Larry, Gus... everyone who'd ever betrayed her.
He was coming closer now, whoever he was, and she knew with a resigned dread that he would soon be upon her, to do with her what he would. And then two strong arms were helping her gently to her feet, brushing off her clothing. He was searching her face anxiously to ascertain that she was all right.
A feeling of gladness flooded her heart and she clung to him, sobbing with relief. He stroked her hair gently and let her cry it out.
"Oh Larry, Larry," she sobbed. "I'm so glad it's you. I thought it was some lunatic... that man from the party... "
But Larry was scarcely listening to her. He was shaking his head and taking off his trench coat and putting it around her trembling body.
"Little idiot!" he muttered, buttoning the coat for her. "Didn't you hear me calling you? I rushed out the minute I realized you were gone. Well, I hope this taught you a good lesson. I don't know what happened to you in that powder room, but knowing Billie I can certainly imagine... "
Andrea wrenched away from him in humiliation at the unsavory memory of her brief experience with Billie and frustration that all he could do was lecture. Come to think of it, it was his fault that she had gotten into the whole bloody mess in the first place.
"Don't you shout at me," she screamed hysterically. "It was all your fault that I went to that damned orgy in the first place, so don't act so high and mighty with me! You're nothing but a rotten tramp--" The slap stunned her into silence, more from shock than from pain. She put her palm gingerly to her cheek, staring at him incredulously. Larry stared back at her, horror written in his eyes at what he had just done. They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, both stunned at the depth of emption the slap revealed.
When he took her in his arms, it was like the natural sequence of events, the most natural thing in the world. Andrea clung to him as his mouth met hers in a passionate reconciliation. Her knees went weak as his mouth remembered hers, as the burning kiss surged through her. His lips seemed to be everywhere--her mouth, her hair, her throat. This was the moment she had been yearning for, dreaming about.
She pressed her body closer against him, no longer aware of the rain falling around them or the fact that they were standing under a street lamp. All she was aware of was Larry's rising response as it pressed against her thighs.
It was he who broke away first, to Andrea's dismay, and before she could voice a protest he had hailed a cab and was dragging her inside.
"Where are we going?" she asked bewilderedly, hoping excitedly that it was his apartment. Her face fell as he gave the cab driver her address.
"But Larry, it's to early--" she began.
"It's later than you think," he corrected, gathering her in his arms. "But not so late that we can't walk away."
"Walk away?" she repeated puzzledly, as his lips nuzzled her ear. "Who wants to walk away?"
Larry bent and kissed her mouth heatedly for endless moments, telegraphing hot and urgent messages through Andrea's limp, rain-soaked body. When he finally broke the embrace, they were in front of her apartment building. Andrea started out of the cab, then hesitated as she realized he had no intention of following her.
He shoved her gently out the door, a wistful smile on his face.
"Goodbye, little one," he said softly. "It's better this way, believe me."
Andrea watched his taxi disappear dazedly, too confused and angry to care that the cab had splashed mud on her dress as it pulled away.
CHAPTER SIX
Larry waited until the cab was a good three blocks from Andrea's apartment before he paid the driver and got out. He felt as jumpy and hot as a cat on a hot tin roof from his brief but passionate encounter with Andrea and the pouring rain felt good as it drenched his clothing and warm body. He walked aimlessly for about half an hour going over the pros and cons of going up to Andrea's apartment and making passionate love to the girl as she--and certainly he--so obviously desired. He remembered the warm willingness of her body as he had held her so closely, the yielding touch of her breasts as they had pressed against his chest in the cab. A shudder ran through him as his mind imagined what it would be like to be lying against her--naked and warm and willing--in a big bed covered with clean white sheets. What he wouldn't do for her and to her if he had the opportunity... he would love her as she had never been loved before. He would press his lips to those snowy white breasts and tease and tantalize the tips with his knowing lips and tongue... till those breasts were peaked and burning with passion... till she was begging him to stop tormenting her and take her...
But he wouldn't stop there. No, then he would let his lips slide down the smoothness of her body until they reached her belly and he would kiss her hot, squirming flesh until she could not stand the exquisite torture anymore...
And then, just when she thought he was going to possess her completely, he would slide down even lower and caress her burning thighs with his experienced hands while his voracious mouth paid homage to her femininity...
Then and only then--as she screamed and moaned and cried out for the ultimate fulfillment--would he take her body with his own. He would slide up and crush her lips with his own, letting his tongue probe the soft, moist cavern of her mouth, while his anxious hands grasped her buttocks and...
"Damn!" Larry uttered aloud, shaking his wet head vehemently. What the hell was the" matter with him? If he continued to work himself up into such a state of high excitement, he was going to drive himself crazy enough to race up to Andrea's place and rape her the moment she opened the door. The possibility further excited him and he uttered another oath.
What the devil did that kid have that got under his skin the way she did? he wondered. Was it the fact that he knew for certain that she was still a virgin--an unwilling one, but a virgin nonetheless? Yes, that must be it, he rationalized to himself... a good girl nowadays was hard to find.
He couldn't help chuckling as he remembered the way he and his pals used to differentiate a "good girl" from a "nice girl." A good girl was one you took, brought home, and then she went to bed. A nice girl was one you took out, went to bed with, and then brought home. And Andrea... well, Andrea seemed to fit somewhere between the two categories. He just couldn't seem to figure that chick out.
Unconsciously, he began to walk towards Eighty-sixth and Third--where the party was being held. He felt a little like a fool for having left the party to run after Andrea, but he couldn't help it--he still felt that nagging sense of responsibility toward the brat. He felt proud of himself, however, that he had had the strength to leave the little dark-haired beauty alone instead of taking her back to his apartment as he had wanted to do. She was a spoiled, sheltered kid--if you didn't count her way-out mother-- who probably had never had to rough anything in her life. He, Larry, was nothing--at least, at this point in his life-- but a bum. She didn't know it, but he had done her a favor by walking out of her life.
Yet, he realized, as he neared the building where the party was being held--deep down in his mind was the nagging fear that if he ever gave her the opportunity, she would use him to satisfy her adventurous urge and then, when she became bored would probably discard him to marry some sexless bastard who had been born with a silver spoon where his virility should have been. He had met enough of these rich dames to know the score...
Yeah, Larry congratulated himself as he began the climb up to the fifth floor, he had made a wise decision. For a jerk-of-all-trades he wasn't so dumb. Now all he wanted to do was tackle one or two of those ever-so-willing broads in there... until he fell into an exhausted sleep. And then when he woke up, he would start all over again. In fact, the way he felt now, he could exercise his male prowess on every female in the joint and still have enough left over for seconds.
Party sounds were still emanating from the apartment, he noted with satisfaction as he rang the bell long and hard. He was beginning to feel chilled from his long walk in the rain and nothing appealed to him more at that moment than pouring some stiff scotch into his drenched and frustrated body. After that, he would be ready for part two of his self-prescribed medication--a naked and willing broad. Preferably in that order.
As someone obligingly let him into the darkened apartment, he realized that he was just in time for the festivities. It was "movie time" as the guests liked to call it and Larry supposed it was as apt a title as any. Although "orgy time" seemed more appropriate to him--he believed in calling a spade a spade, and a pornographic film a pornographic film.
As he walked further into the dimly lit room to see which movie Gus had on the agenda tonight, he inadvertently tripped over a pair of intertwined naked bodies on the plush carpet, who emitted grunts of protest at is ill-timed clumsiness.
Stepping agilely, this time, over them, Larry apologized profusely. Man, this must be a great flick, he thought amusedly. It's really layin' 'em in the aisles... Glancing back at the two squirming bodies on the rug, he thought he could make out the redheaded Billie. She was with-- and Larry was shocked despite himself--that strait-laced divorcee whom Gus had given driving lessons to several times and complained that he couldn't get any place with. No wonder, Larry grinned... Gus' anatomy had been the wrong shape.
He glanced again at the groaning tangle of arms and legs, red hair flashing with brown... He shrugged and walked away. Love and let love... that was his philosophy.
He went over to the bar, careful not to step on any lovers or would-be lovers and poured himself a double straight scotch which he gulped down. Then he refilled his glass and made himself comfortable on the floor, propping a couple of colored cushions behind his head so that he could relax on his back and watch the screen.
He sipped his scotch and grinned as he recognized the scene that was being played out--this would make about the third time he'd seen this particular film and he wished to hell that Gus would splurge and buy some new ones. After all, there were only so many times one could watch this same sort of thing and still get aroused...
Here was the platinum blonde heroine lying naked across an enormous round bed in a room, filled with mirrors, asleep on silken lavender sheets. Soon, the doorknob turned and three big men entered the room. Supposedly they were burglars, but the minute they caught sight of the nude blonde beauty lying spread-eagled across the bed, their thoughts turned to other things...
Here the camera panned in on the blonde's voluptuous anatomy: her larger-than-life size breasts with their pink rosebud nipples... the plump buttocks and fleshy thighs that jiggled as she turned sleepily over to her side, only to reveal a gently rounded belly which she began to caress absently in her sleep...
Larry continued to sip his drink, beginning to feel a languidness sneaking up on him and wondering if he wouldn't be better off foregoing his plans and getting some sleep instead. The film was beginning to bore him, as he knew what was going to happen next... how the big blonde would be made love to time and time again by each of the three men, in any and every way possible until finally, she would become so sex-crazed that she couldn't have enough and would invent some interesting little games of her own, eventually getting into the realm of sadomasochism...
Larry stifled a yawn and closed his eyes for a moment, as he decided to give in to the need for sleep--at least for a while. The emotional decision he had made concerning Andrea plus the long walk in the rain had knocked some of the punch out of him... All he wanted to do was get a little shut-eye, forget Andrea's body and what it could do to him, forget his body and its insatiable needs, forget everything except.
"What the hell... " he began to no one in particular, as he was jolted out of his dozing state by a definite and meaningful pressure on his thighs. There was a giggle at his feet and he sat up quickly in order to see who was doing what to him. Not that it mattered, of course, but he had never been one for that "love is blind" theory. Hell, he even preferred making love with the lights on...
"Hey, you sure are the nervous one," the owner of the wicked hand giggled, as he pulled her alongside him so that he could see her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that you had ants in your pants... "
Larry grinned as he recognized Sheila--a lithe brunette who had the sexual appetites of a rabbit. She had come to Larry for driving lessons about eight months ago--just about the time her bland, aging salesman of a husband had gone off on a business trip. She had taken to Larry immediately and had made no bones about what she wanted from him. She was, she told him, tired of settling for one-night-a-week sex from her unimaginative husband. If her husband found out about it, she couldn't care less for all the good he was doing her. As for supporting herself if he ever walked out on her, she giggled--she was a great giggler --well, maybe she'd give driving lessons to dissatisfied husbands. And now that Larry thought of it--remembered how she was in bed--she could drive any man crazy.
"Hi Sheila honey," he said affectionately now, kissing her mouth warmly in greeting. "Haven't seen you around in a while. Where've you been keeping yourself?"
Sheila thrust her wet, hot tongue into his ear and giggled as he squirmed uncomfortably.
"Oh, you know me," she grinned. "I'm the original under-cover girl. If you're ever looking for me, that's where you'll find me."
Larry kissed her again, appreciatively. It was great having someone like Sheila around--she was nice and uncomplicated, and you could forget all about her even after a wild fling between the sheets and she wouldn't even get miffed. What was even better, she knew instinctively when a guy was tired and didn't mind in the least taking the initiative. She knew she was so good at arousing a man that she would be paid back in full. Like now, for instance...
She curled up kittenishly in Larry's arms and pushed him down gently so that his head was leaning back against the cushions.
"Now close your eyes," she ordered, "and Sheila will put you back to sleep like a good baby... "
Larry grinned wryly, but did as she asked.
"Yeah, I can imagine," he murmured. "Putting a guy to sleep is not exactly one of your attributes... "
Shelia accepted the compliment for what it was and slid her body alongside Larry's until there was not enough space between them for a bug to crawl through. Then she lowered her pretty face so that her tousled brown hair tickled him and she pressed her soft pink lips against him. Slowly, oh so slowly, her tongue began to force its way between Larry's teeth until finally she wiggled it deep inside his mouth, exploratively, excitingly...
Larry felt the warmth of her buttock pulsate through her dress as he grasped her hips with a growing urgency. Sheila sat up slightly so that her breasts dangled inches from Larry's face, and then she softly pressed her breast against his burning cheek. He caught his breath sharply and his fingers tightened convulsively on her buttocks.
"Relax, sweetie," she murmured. "Sheila will take good care of you."
The tension began to ebb out of him and a new tension took its place--the tension born of passion and mounting desire. If he didn't bury himself in her sweet, musky flesh soon, he was going to explode.
"Larry?" she whispered.
"Yeah, baby?" he answered hoarsely.
"Look what I have for you... "
He watched her unbutton the front of her dress and thrust her bosom forward as she reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. Her small breasts tumbled free... brown-tipped, pear-shaped. And his...
"Touch them. Kiss them. Bite them," she urged, oblivious to the others in the room--who were, in fact, oblivious to everything but themselves. "Go on--touch them," she repeated.
He touched them. They were silky and warm and smooth, and her small brown nipples were stiffening against his fingers. He brought one of them into his mouth and tasted their sweetness, felt the tips harden against his tongue. He heard her breathe a little faster--almost as fast as he was breathing.
"Larry, I need you now!" she said excitedly, urgently.
Larry felt a pleasantly painful urgency rip through his groin and he rolled over, pinning her against the thick red carpet. He covered her breasts with quick, hot kisses and buried his hand beneath the skirt of her dress.
Sheila helped him by twisting out of her dress completely and kicking it impatiently away. The bra followed suit. She spread her arms wide to indicate that she was all his, a sweet, sexy smile on her pouty lips.
Larry propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her, into her hot, smoky eyes. The cleavage between her naked breasts was surprisingly deep. Her pear-shaped mounds rose and fell with quick intensity.
"Stop teasing me," she moaned. "Squeeze me."
Larry reached out and cupped them with his hands, and a thrill coursed through him as her nipples tickled his palms. He squeezed them gently, then harder.
"Oh sweetie, what you do to me!" she whispered hotly.
He reached his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, touching her bare belly. It was smooth, incredibly smooth and so were her thighs which she opened willingly for his caress. So so smooth and his for the taking...
Sheila raise her hips so that he could slide the panties off, then she watched him glazedly as he unrolled her stockings and peeled them off her lovely legs. She nodded approvingly as he pulled the pants off.
"You certainly know your way around a woman," she said softly.
Before he could reply in kind, she began to undress him.
"You don't have to be formal with me," she giggled, her eyes devouring him.
Larry let her undress him and tried not to struggle. She seemed to be moving so slowly. Her hands fingered teasingly on his buttons before she began working them apart. But soon her fingers were stroking the hairs on his chest and moving tantalizingly to his waistband.
Larry felt as though he were going to scream. It seemed preposterous that he had been thinking of sleeping only brief moments before. He now had enough energy for a volcanic explosion... and Shelia was going to be the lucky recipient.
If she hurried the hell up...
Then her fingers loosened his belt, and he heard the welcome sound of a zipper being unzipped.
She touched his bare flesh and he jumped.
She giggled and he lunged for her playfully. They rolled over each other, laughing, their flesh burning against each other.
And then her lips were on his chest and his stomach and his legs, bestowing hot wet kisses on him, searing his flesh and driving him half out of his mind. He stopped laughing.
Finally, he pulled her over him, grasped her buttocks and pulled her close. Her eyes were hot and glazed as she looked down at him, and her mouth was open slightly, the tip of her tongue showing in hunger. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her buttocks and with one, quick motion possessed her. Her gasp of surprise quickly turned to a moan of pleasure, and she began to rotate her hips crazily.
"Not so fast," he groaned, afraid the end would approach before he' had a chance to begin. But the little wildcat was shaking her head wildly from side to side so that her hair was falling in her face and tickling his nose.
"Baby, baby... " he groaned.
Despite himself, his hips took on a life of their own-- matching her every move with two of his own until she was wailing with unabashed passion that further ignited his own. Soon they were both driving crazily towards completion. He wasn't in control of himself--he was merely a slave to the demands of his body, and hers.
She was crying quietly now, her face a mask of passion as she neared the summit.
"Oh yes, darling, yes," she cried, as her movements changed from erratic to rhythmic.
He felt her body stiffen, just as a tremor passed through him, and then she was sobbing softly. Wave after wave of sensation shot through him until finally his body relaxed completely.
He rolled away from her and fell asleep.
When Larry awoke again several hours later, most of the guests were gone. Glancing at his wristwatch, he saw that it was nearly four o'clock in the morning. He looked around him, bleary-eyed, and grimaced at the mess; There were half-filled glasses strewn over the rug, bits of food, paper napkins... even several pieces of ladies' undergarments. One or two unconscious partygoers rounded out the pretty picture.
Yep, he grinned. Gus had apparently thrown another successful party. The word was sure to get around and no doubt the driving school was going to be booked solid during the next couple of months. Even people who already knew how to drive would sign up for lessons with the intention of being invited to one of Gus' fabulous "graduation" parties.
Larry allowed himself a luxurious yawn and stretched his long body in an attempt to wake up. His body felt muscle-bound from sleeping on the floor, and he could hardly wait to get home and go to bed.
But, first, he walked over to the bar--or what was left of it--to pour himself a shot. What the hell was the difference --his head was pounding anyway. Man, that Sheila broad had sure given him a workout last night, he remembered. She just didn't know when to quit. They had made love at least three times, in every way imaginable... at least he only remembered three times, but he wouldn't be surprised if it had been twice that amount. His body felt as though it could use about three weeks' sleep in order to regenerate itself.
He guzzled down his drink and was about to pour another when he heard a sound behind him and turned, startled. He stared, openmouthed as first one long, shapely leg and then the other swung itself over the back of a sofa.
Then, to his further astonishment, two other legs--which appeared to be tangled between the first two--followed.
He gulped down some more scotch and awaited further developments. He was not disappointed. First one, then another pair of thighs and buttocks and bellies and breasts appeared--followed by two swollen-lipped, sleepy-eyed faces under a tangled mass of red and blonde hair. Eventually, the limbs and arms were sorted out and the two naked beauties grinned up at him.
"Well, well, what have we here?" the blonde asked, obviously pleased.
Her red-headed friend, who turned out to be Billie, grinned sleepily at Larry and waved comically.
"Hi, lover... " she drawled. "Aren't you going to come over and kiss me hello?"
"What about me?" the blonde asked indignantly.
"Oh, he'll kiss you too," the redhead assured her obligingly "Won't you, lover?"
"Sure, I guess so," Larry replied hesitantly. "You two sure surprised me--I thought I was the only living soul around here. What happened to Sheila, by the way?"
Both girls shrugged indifferently.
The redhead got up and started to walk unsteadily towards him.
"What's a matter, big boy?" she asked huskily. "Aren't we enough for you?"
Larry watched her approach in all of her naked, big-boned glory. He found himself becoming strongly aroused by the redhead's large, jiggling breasts with their enormous brown-red nipples and wide, fleshy hips and thighs.
He backed up unconsciously as she came closer and closer to him, until her melon-like breasts were digging into his bare chest and her rounded tummy was rubbing against his own.
She giggled triumphantly as he backed into the bar, and put her two strong arms around his neck.
"I've got you cornered, lover boy," she informed him.
As if he wasn't aware of the fact, he thought ruefully. Well, if he was trapped, he was trapped. There was nothing to do but give her what she wanted...
He reached down and, placing his hands on her naked hips, brought her in close against his eager maleness. The he bent his head and crushed her pouty lips with his own, forcing his tongue between her teeth so that she gasped involuntarily. She squirmed against his masculinity as though she couldn't get close enough and the movement set a fire going in Larry's loins. He forgot the blonde who was watching them with avid interest, forgot that he was tired, forgot everything but the gorgeous hunk of wriggling flesh in his embrace...
Suddenly, she took his hand and led him over to a divan. He followed willingly---he seemed to have lost the ability to thin. All he could do now was feel and anticipate...
He watched her lie on the divan. Her tousled red head rested against the pillow, her breasts rose and fell, rhythmically, and her smooth fleshy thighs spread open tantalizingly as her arms spread in welcome.
Her eyes widened eagerly as she examined his body as he stood nakedly before her.
"Ooh yes," she breathed. "Come to me quickly, lover!"
She wriggled her hips provocatively, and he went into immediate action by throwing himself at her. As their hungry bodies clashed, he could smell her body--a unique mixture of perfume and sex and animal. He trembled with barely controllable excitement.
"Take me now, quick." she urged frantically.
"Not so fast," he whispered, kissing her mouth.
There lips clung hotly and wetly together, and he felt the pressure of hers pushing against his, her tongue snaking around in his mouth.
Then he cupped one of her big, ripe breasts and held it. He watched her close her eyes as she moaned passionately. Slowly, he put his lips against the brown-red nipple and sucked it into his mouth, drawing on it vigorously until it swelled with lust.
"Damn you, damn you!" she groaned deliriously, as her head lolled from side to side in pleasurable helplessness.
Larry felt her hands on him. They were frantic in their urgency and their practiced movements threatened to drive him insane. The passion inside him rose to an unbearable pitch and he took her violently.
The redhead screamed ecstatically as he slammed her again and again and again with every ounce of his unbridled energy. Her nails raked his back as they beat out the final chords of their wild dance. Then, in unison, their bodies stiffened, and they soared to outer space together, moaning animal sounds of enjoyment.
When they returned to earth, Larry rolled away from her and closed his eyes. There was a small smile of satisfaction on his lips--swollen from her love bites--and he prepared to sleep the sleep of the dead.
But the plump blonde, who had been such an avid audience all through this had other plans...
Larry sat up with a shock as he felt a sudden ice-cold sensation on his hot, naked belly. He looked down incredulously to see the blonde--whom he had forgotten about-kneeling at his feet, her head bowed over him. She was doing something strange to him--something that was doing crazy things to his libido. He felt himself coming to life again, despite himself...
"Hey!" he protested, as her head moved lower and a particularly jolting sensation swept through him. "What gives--" She looked up at him, a strange passionate smile on her pale pink lips.
"Nice?" she murmured. "Doesn't this feel good? You'll see--I can be just as good to you as Billie... "
Then she was lowering her head again and her limp blonde hair was falling all over her face. She gripped his buttocks and caressed him with feathery strokes, while her lips did wild things to his stomach and thighs.
Larry yelped at the sudden chill...
Only then did he realize what little gimmick she had been using to arouse him. It was an ice cube that she had in her mouth and was manipulating so beautifully...
It was too late to stop her now, and he fell back against the pillow weakly as her feverish hands and fiendish lips took control of him.
He closed his eyes and felt the room spin around. He opened them and saw her head still rotating rhythmically, expertly, ingeniously...
Suddenly he cried out as he felt himself falling over the edge of the precipice, as wave after wave of passion shook his very being. He shut his eyes again.
This time he didn't open them.
There were vague memories later... memories of Billie waking up and making it with the inventive blonde as he watched and cheered them on... memories of him joining them in their wild free-for-all...
Their private little party lasted for several passion-drenched hours amidst a sea of liquor and flesh--until finally the satiated trio collapsed on top of one another in the middle of the room.
Which is where the cleaning woman discovered them the next morning.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Andrea endured two miserable days waiting to hear from Larry. She was sure that he was only trying to teach her a lesson because she had gone to Gus' party, and that he would contact her sooner or later. It was unthinkable that he would not--especially after the passionate way he had kissed her the other night. It had been a real kiss--sexily sweet--the way a man kissed a woman he was in love with.
She sighed as her body remembered the feel of his arms, the hard virility of him, the masculine smell of his skin... It seemed incredible to her that he wasn't missing her just as much as she was missing him. Oh, sure, he had probably thought he was being very noble by walking out of her life but still... he should have come to his senses by now. There was no use trying to fight the current that ran between them whenever they were within ten feet of each other--it was too darned strong!
Andrea stood in front of the full-length mirror undressing for bed. She stood naked before the big mirror and examined herself objectively--this was a ritual she had been going through lately. It was important to her that her body be in tip-top shape for Larry, for the next time he made love to her...
She cupped her full, young breasts and weighted their pear-shaped beauty in her hands. She was pleased with them and she shivered with delight as she closed her eyes and imagined Larry's strong hands palming their delicate loveliness...
The rest of her was just as perfect. Her skin was flawless and smooth, her waist was small and her hips were slim but womanly.
She nodded approvingly at her reflection.
She knew that Larry must have loads of women--of all sizes and shapes--but that didn't bother her. She knew she could hold her own with the best of them. Besides, she had something going for her that they didn't--she was still a virgin, though just barely.
She thought back to that day on the beach and flushed with embarrassment as she remembered their aborted attempt at lovemaking. She swore to herself that the next time she and Larry made love, it was going to be an experience that he was going to remember for the rest of his life.
For the rest of their lives, she amended.
Andrea threw herself face-down on the bed. She was becoming extremely restless waiting for his call. Why on earth was he being such a stubborn fool, she wondered? All he was succeeding in doing was wasting precious time.
She sighed, as she felt a breeze drift in through the open window and set her flesh a-tingle.
She knew she ought to occupy herself with something-- perhaps a book--before her mind began taking a sensual turn. She knew what would happen if she didn't get dressed and stop thinking of Larry--she would go clear out of her mind. It was no use trying to sleep.
As she got up and wrapped a light robe around her body, she realized reluctantly that she missed her mother--even she would be somebody to talk to. But Esther had gone down to Acapulco for three weeks to see what the action was--and probably, Andrea admitted wryly, to see if she could join it.
And maybe her mother had the right idea, at that. Because there certainly wasn't any action in New York this summer... at least not as far as Andrea Markham was concerned.
She walked over to the window and looked out at the couples who were walking hand in hand near Central Park. It was incredible how many lovers crawled out of their holes in the summer, she thought amusedly. Men and women... girls and boys... boys and boys...
She smiled... it was funny how love could transform a person's life. She remembered how furious she had been with her mother--on that day that now seemed so long ago --for trying to throw her together with Larry. And look at her now... she turned to jelly at the mere mention of his name.
She frowned suddenly as a thought struck her--some thing she had not thought of before. Was it possible that Larry's strange, aloof behavior toward her could be explained by the fact that he had been her mother's lover, too? Now that she thought of it, it did make sense...
Of course, he didn't know she knew, but still he might feel guilty about it. Well, if that was all it was...
The shrill, insistent ringing of the princess phone near her bed jarred her thoughts.
Her hand was on the receiver instantly, but she let it ring three more times before she picked it up out of its cradle. There was no point letting Larry know how desperately eagerly she had been waiting for his call.
"Hello... " she said liltingly, not succeeding in hiding the excitement in her voice.
"Hello yourself, babe... " a male voice boomed back.
"Oh... Gus... " she said dully.
"You were expecting maybe Rock Hudson?" the man guffawed, obviously delighted with his own humor.
"If you're calling about the bill for my driving lesson last week, it was mailed to you yesterday," she said flatly.
"No, no, I'm not calling about that trivia--that lesson was on the house as far as I'm concerned," he said magnanimously.
Andrea shuddered and pulled her robe tighter as she detected a trace of lechery in his tone. Memories of that day in the car came flooding back into her consciousness and she flushed although she was alone in the room. The things he had taught her that day...
She brought her mind back to the present as she realized that Gus' voice had become cajoling, almost beseeching. That was a twist, she thought curiously.
"I'm sorry--I missed what you said," she told him.
"Well, I'll give you another chance to take advantage of my offer," he said insinuatingly. "I was just asking you if you'd be interested in taking a ride with me tonight. It's a great night out and a shame to waste it... We could even have some dinner--I know a great seafood restaurant at City Island. What do you say, babe?"
Andrea bit her lip nervously, trying to decide what she wanted to do and Gus mistook her hesitation for apprehension.
"And you don't have to worry," he said quickly. "I promise not to do anything you don't want me to do--if you know what I mean. You might say this is my way of making up to you for--uh--well, for being such a rat last time... "
Andrea's eyebrows shot up in astonishment. Could this possibly be the same person who had given her such a hard time at their last meeting? The same crude, ruthless man who took what he wanted when he wanted, regardless of anyone else's feelings? Sometimes she just couldn't figure people out--herself included.
"Well," she said slowly, "it's very nice of you to call and apologize, but I really don't think it's necessary to buy me dinner. Thanks anyway... "
Just as she was about to replace the receiver, Gus interrupted her.
"Aw, come on, honey--be a sport. It'll make my conscience feel a whole lot better, I mean it. Besides... " and here his voice became very low and intimate, "to be perfectly honest with you, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the day... I mean, you're really something else, girl--a real winner. I think you and me could really groove together, if you know what I mean... "
Andrea was flattered despite herself. After all, it wasn't every day a man of Gus' age--about forty-two or so--paid her such compliments. And while she didn't particularly care for the man, there was something about him that excited her; something in his voice that brought a tingle to her loins.
And, besides, she really had nothing else planned for tonight. Only moments ago she had been going crazy because she had nothing to do and was nearly ready to go to bed at six o'clock! Besides, what harm could there be in having dinner with him? Now that she thought of it, she had been so preoccupied with thinking about Larry that she had forgotten to eat.
"Well, alright," she heard herself saying, to her own astonishment, "I guess so, Gus. If it will really make you feel better about your behavior the other day. But give me at least half an hour to dress... I-was just getting ready to go to bed early."
She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end but couldn't be sure. As a matter of fact, as she stood there clad only in her skimpy blue robe, she sensed the rapid increase of her own breathing.
"Good girl!" he approved, relief evident in his voice. See you in a little while--with bells on... "
Andrea giggled at the mental picture she had of Gus, naked, wearing little bells on his fingers and toes...
After she hung up, she threw herself across the bed and tried to figure out why she had just done what she had done. She wasn't as naive as she had sounded, she knew, and even if she had succeeded in fooling Gus--which was slightly doubtful--she certainly wasn't fooling herself.
The simple fact of the matter was--she was hungry tonight. Very hungry. And it wasn't for food, this craving.
Her body was crying out for male flesh--her oh so traitorous body--and at the moment, it scarcely mattered whose. Strange...
Only a couple of weeks ago, she had been a virgin and glad of it. Now she wanted to be made love to all the way. That was all she thought about lately, waking or sleeping. She detested herself for the fantasies and desires that occupied her, but she was unable to control them. She was turning out to be her mother's daughter all right!
What was happening to her?
Only a couple of minutes ago, she had been thinking proudly that she would still be a virgin when Larry started to make love to her the next time--and that she would be a woman when he was finished. She had thought happily that he would be so proud because no other man had ever touched her, and he would love her for it.
And now?
Now her fiendish, rationalizing mind was telling her that Larry needed an experienced woman--not an innocent little girl. He needed someone who knew exactly how to make him happy. If she went to bed with Gus tonight-- she had no illusions about this possibility--she would no longer be an amateur, and she could surprise Larry with her erotic know-how the next time she saw him. The more she thought about it, the better it was beginning to sound.
She rose from the bed, still thinking hard, and she was suddenly afraid... afraid of herself, or what she might do in a moment of weakness, driven by a vague yet powerful desire to be loved. Tonight.
She took a cold shower, hoping that this might quell the feeling that possessed her, but the sting of the cold spray on her skin accomplished the reverse of what she hoped for. The icy water jabbing at her was doing a remarkable job of stimulating her further... It made her think perversely of the brutal yet exciting was Gus' hands and mouth had touched her flesh that day in the car...
She stepped out of the shower, powdered herself with a heady, fragrant talcum powder--and felt her nipples become erect with excitement as she lightly passed the big fluffy puff over her damp breasts.
She shook her head in exasperation as she went back to her bedroom. It seemed that everything she did or thought about added fuel to the fire that Larry had inadvertently started the other night. She felt the fire inside of her, still burning with undiminished intensity. She felt helpless in its grip. If only it were Larry coming tonight instead of his boss. If if if...
The doorbell rang sharply, insistently, urgently--and Andrea started. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes since Gus hand called. She had told him that she needed time to get dressed...
Quickly, she picked up her robe from her bed and tied it around her nude body. She went to the door, apprehension mingling with anticipation. She opened the door and felt her knees go weak.
There was Gus, so big and sure of himself, grinning down at her, his eyes appreciatively taking in her brief costume.
"I guess I'm a little early," he apologized before she could scold him for being inconsiderate. "But I've been waiting on pins and needles since I heard your voice over the phone. Will you forgive me for being over-eager?"
What could she say to that?
Embarrassed, Andrea stepped aside so that he could enter the apartment, then locked the door. He looked harmless enough, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to be saying wild things to her. She felt the closeness of him, smelled the cigar smoke that lingered on his skin, mixed with a strong after shave lotion that she didn't particularly care for. Yet despite this, she could feel her heart hammering a mile a minute. She also wished she had a little more clothing on.
"I--I'll be with you in a minute," she stammered, showing him into the living room. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I go and finish dressing. The bar is over there... "
"Great!" he grinned. "Can I make you a drink too?"
"Good idea," she smiled back. "I'll have a scotch and soda." It occurred to her how much she needed the drink, and decided that if she drank it fast enough while she was getting dressed in her bedroom, it might calm her nerves. There was no point in letting Gus know how jumpy she was because of his presence.
"A girl after my own heart," he laughed, handing her a drink and clicking glasses. "To us... "
"Thank you," she managed to say as she raised the frosty glass to her lips.
"Your hands are shaking something awful, girl," the man observed concernedly. "Something bothering you?"
"No, nothing. I... "
He took a step toward her. He was very close now-- close enough to peer into the cleavage of her bathrobe, at the still-damp, powder-scented flesh of her breasts. She found herself looking at some curly chest hair which had escaped from the opening of his open-throated sport shirt. She had never seen such a broad chest in her life, and she wondered what it would be like to run her fingers over it...
She jumped and nearly dropped her glass as his big hand touched the cleavage between her robe. But his hand was gone before she could utter a protest. If she had wanted to protest. As it was, her knees just got wobbly and her mouth dry.
"There was some powder that you didn't rub in," he explained. "I didn't mean to scare you, honey. I guess I'm just a clumsy oaf--not fit for the likes of a fancy finishing school broad like you, eh?"
Staring into her glass, Andrea did not see the facetious smile on his face and took him seriously.
"Oh, you mustn't talk like that, Gus" she protested, looking up into his eyes. "You're just as good as anyone else--maybe better." She touched his hand in a gesture of sincerity, and stared deeply into his eyes.
It was his cue and he knew it. Quickly, he put their glasses on the coffee table, and in an instant she felt his lips on hers, strangely soft in contrast with the hardness and bulk of his arms. Those strong arms that encircled her, crushing her against him, almost lifting her right off the floor. Clasping her in his huge arms, kissing her with his tongue deep in her mouth, he carried her out of the living room into the bedroom where he dropped her easily on the bed.
But even while she was protesting, she allowed his hands to reach inside her robe and cup both of her breasts with his huge hand while his other hand undid the belt and yanked the robe off her body. Her arms twined themselves around his thick neck even as her lips murmured, "No, Gus... please... we mustn't... "
The fire within her raged out of control as he breathed hotly, wetly into her ear and his merciless hand pinched the already aroused nipples of her panting breasts.
She felt his strong hands reaching beneath her and grasping her soft naked buttocks and drawing her against his aroused body. She could feel the searing heat of him even through his trousers and her thighs began to tremble with uncontrollable excitement.
He began to rotate his pelvis back and forth, and her own body responded in kind to his provocative movements.
Andrea reached for him and the man groaned softly, burying his mouth in her throat and kissing the flesh so violently that she felt she would faint from the exquisite agony of it. She struggled with his clothes frantically, gasping with delight as she found him and her trembling fingers captured him.
"Hot little baby, aren't you," he muttered, his eyes gleaming. "You know exactly what you want and Gus is going to give it to you, little girl," he promised, removing his clothing hastily.
Her eyes widened with excitement as she watched him rip each piece of clothing from his body and come towards her again in all his manly glory. Soon, she thought, excitedly, those strong legs would be imprisoning her own.
He towered above her for what seemed an eternity, his burning eyes devouring every inch of her naked, squirming body.
With a groan, he flung himself at her and his mouth and hands assaulted her flesh. A sob started in her throat but was quickly stifled by the snaky tongue that darted in and around her mouth. Her cleft body strained eagerly as they made tentative contact. "Tell me what you want me to do to you... " he demanded hotly.
Would he never stop teasing her, Andrea wondered desperately.
"Tell me!" he insisted when she didn't answer.
She was stunned as she felt his hand strike her sharply across the face, once and then again. Was he out of his mind, she wondered, as passion merged with panic. Had she put herself in the hands of a madman? She was about to scream when she saw him lift that huge hand again.
"Tell me what you want," he growled threateningly. "Or you're going to be a mighty sorry little girl."
She whispered the words quickly into his ear, thankful for the darkness so he wouldn't see her shame.
Then she felt a mixture of fear and excitement spiral through her groin as his hand shot out roughly and began to squeeze her thighs and tummy flesh, alternating pain with pleasure. She moaned helplessly as his fingers found the very core of her and began to tease her mercilessly.
"I can't stand it anymore," she moaned. "Please Gus, please... I'll do anything you say... "
He whispered a feverish order in her ear and she moved to obey, as he rolled onto his back. She felt his fingers yanking her hair as she did what he demanded with her newly experienced lips and hands, and strangely enough did not feel any pain. She glanced up at one point and perversely pleased to note that his hand was way back on the pillow and he was groaning with pleasure. It gave her a feeling of power over this brutal hunk of a man, and she liked the feeling. She returned to her chore with renewed enthusiasm and suppressed a giggle as he let out an animal-like sound and his husky body twisted helplessly, at her mercy. She planted one final kiss on him and then raised herself up until she hovered over him.
"Had enough?" she asked proudly, as his arms reached for her and he pinned her beneath him.
"You sure learn fast," he praised her, his face still screwed up with passion. "Now I'm going to show you a thing or two... "
There was nothing she'd like better, Andrea thought, as she wrapped her legs tightly around him, struggling to capture the heat and hardness of him.
He lowered himself suddenly and took her quickly, heedless of her pleas for gentleness. Again and again he beat against her tender flesh, grunting loudly all the while, his huge hands digging into her buttocks so hard she cried out...
But soon the pain turned to ecstasy and she began to respond to his rhythm with movements of her own--wild, animal movements that she hadn't known she was capable of.
He began to move faster and faster and her senses reeled crazily, her frantic hips taking on a life of their own. Animal instinct and desire gushed through her passion-racked body and she whispered to him hotly, urging him on. And on and on and on...
She felt a white hot fire spiral through her groin and her legs tightened convulsively, as his own groans of delight rang in her ears.
"That's it, baby, that's the way... move it, move it... atta girl... " he urged, driving ahead relentlessly.
Then he aimed a particularly well-aimed barrage and she threw her head back so far that it half-hung off the bed, her long dark hair streaming freely, nearly touching the floor.
It was creeping up on her. They clutched each other in a vice-like grip and began a wild beating rhythm that quickly put them over the edge. Their bodies stiffened momentarily and then a convulsive shudder passed through them... almost as though they had been jointly electrocuted.
Tears stained Andrea's cheeks as she lay there, satiated but exhausted. She had no idea that lovemaking took so much out of a person. She turned her head to look at Gus, and realized that he had turned his back to her and was beginning to snore indifferently.
It surprised her to find that fresh tears were streaming down her cheeks. A different kind of tears... perhaps for her lost innocence.
Tears of shame...
CHAPTER EIGHT
Larry reread the message for the fourth time--it still read the same way: Ester Markham wanted to see him and it was urgent. He was to be at her apartment at eight that evening without fail.
Larry thought of simply tearing the note up and forgetting about it. If there was anything in which he was not interested, it was getting involved with any member of the Markham family again. Both mother and daughter had caused him nothing but aggravation in their short but sour relationships.
He had managed to keep away from Andrea for two weeks now and was practically succeeding in forgetting all about her. As for her mother, it had been a good three weeks since he had even thought about her. He had been under the impression that she had gone to Mexico for several weeks and, as far as he was concerned, she could stay there indefinitely.
He still felt dirty when he remembered that rotten deal he had made with Ester... the deal to seduce her beautiful virgin daughter. It was not much consolation that he hadn't gone through with it either because the damned kid had gone and sneaked under his skin. It was only by overdoing the party bit every night and making it with more broads than he could count that he had managed to put her out of his mind. He had thought that would be the end of it.
Until now.
If he didn't know Ester well enough to know that she would come to his apartment looking for him if he didn't show up tonight, he would consider not going at all, but he knew that wouldn't solve anything. The only consolation was that Andrea probably wouldn't be at home at the time Ester was expecting him. Obviously she wouldn't want her daughter to see the two of them together.
Whatever the hell it was Ester wanted of him, he was going to be sure to set her straight the moment he stepped into the apartment. If she was curious as to how he was making progress with her daughter he would come right out and tell her the deal was off--that he couldn't go through with it. If she laughed at him, well...
Being laughed at wasn't half as bad as getting entrapped in a relationship he didn't want...
At five minutes before eight that evening, Larry was ringing the Markham doorbell. He shifted from foot to foot nervously as he waited for the door to be opened. He wished he had thought to stop for a drink or two before coming here. Ester could be a real powerhouse when she set her mind to it...
An astonished look crossed his face as the door opened.
"Well, I don't look that frightful, do I?" Andrea smiled.
"You!" he said disbelievingly.
"Me!" she agreed, smiling poisedly. "Any objections?"
"Your mother... I received a note from your mother that she wanted to see me," he said hoarsely. "Probably---probably about some driving lessons... "
"Probably." the girl said solemnly, though her eyes were twinkling.
Larry shifted from foot to foot, wondering what the hell was going on here. He looked at the girl--she was obviously dressed for going out and had probably never looked more appealing in her life, he thought grudgingly. He felt strangely resentful of her unknown date.
"Well, is she here?" he asked impatiently. "She said it was urgent."
"Oh, it is--it is," the girl assured him, stepping aside and allowing him to enter the apartment.
"Oh, you know what it's about?" he asked confusedly, following her into a wood-panelled den that he had never been in before. It was smaller and cozier than the large, elegant living room and he liked the book lined walls and comfortable, livable furniture.
He sat down in a huge, corduroy-upholstered chair and sighed as he waited for Andrea's next words to give him a clue as to why he had been invited--ordered was a better word--to come.
"Well, go on--I'm waiting," he prodded the girl as she stood in front of him. She was looking down at him and grinning and she was making him nervous. And so were her long, flawless legs that were only inches from him. She was wearing a black velvet mini-dress--with a rhinestone clasp at the V-necked bodice to hold it together--that revealed a good portion of her thighs. She was wearing her hair loose--the way it had been the first time he had seen her--and it flowed casually in soft black curls down over her shoulders and back. She looked good enough to eat...
"Well, let me in on the secret," he growled, searching in his pocket for a cigarette. "I've got another appointment and I can't stay here all night."
In answer, Andrea sat herself on his lap pressed her face very close to his.
He felt a heat spread through his loins as she put her pink lips to his ear and the sweet, musky perfume she was wearing was not exactly helping to cool matters off.
"Shh, it's a secret," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "You see, my mother didn't send that message to you --I did. My mother's still in Acapulco."
Larry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He took her by the shoulders and held her away from him. Not too far away, though.
"Are you trying to tell me," he demanded, looking into her impishly glowing face, "that this was all a trick to lure me here?"
Andrea tossed her long hair and nodded proudly. "Uh-huh," she grinned. "Aren't you flattered?" Larry was about to bawl her out, but she stopped him by placing a finger on his lips and tracing the outline gently. "Don't be angry, Larry," she said softly, her blue eyes looking imploringly into his. "It was the only way I could get you to see me... "
Was he hearing right, he wondered? Was this the same unpoised little innocent he had given up for her own good only a couple of weeks ago? It couldn't be... The sexy little broad sitting on his legs now was not only poised, she was obviously confident of her femininity, her desirability. He had heard that girls grew up fast, this was ridiculous...
Suddenly he remembered what he had come here for.
"How did you know that I would come if your mother sent me a note?" he asked curiously. "Or was that just a wild guess?"
She stared at him very intently, no longer smiling, and he was suddenly afraid of the answer.
"No, it wasn't a wild guess," she admitted slowly. "I've known about my mother and you for ages. In fact, I've known about everything... " Her voice trailed off and she could no longer look at him.
Larry felt a ball of self-disgust and shame form in the pit of his stomach and found that he could not look at her. He lit the cigarette he had been holding and puffed on it silently for a few moments.
"So you know, huh... about--" he began.
Andrea put a finger on his lips and cut him off before he could finish.
"Yes," she nodded. "I know about that, too. I was sick about it at the time--when I overheard you both talking-- but I think I can forgive you now. I mean, you didn't know me or anything... "
"Thanks," he said dryly, crushing his cigarette out, half-smoked. Somehow everything tasted bitter to him. All he wanted to get out of here and go to a bar and get drunk.
"Don't be angry," she said softly, putting her slender arms about his neck. "Please... "
Larry removed her arms from his neck, unable to think with her so close.
"I'm not angry at you," he said wearily. "I'm angry at myself, if anything. Now, look kid--I cooled it with you for a very good reason--I'm no damned good for you. Now get that through your pretty little head. Go find yourself some nice clean-cut kid your own age... "
Andrea cuddled up closer to him so that he could feel the points of her breasts digging into his chest, and her arms rewound themselves around his neck persistently.
"But I don't want some nice clean-cut kid my own age," she whispered near his ear teasingly. "I want a rotten guy who's no good for me. I can't help it, darling, I'm in love with you. And furthermore, I'm not a kid anymore... "
Her mouth found his and he put his hand on the warm skin of her back and murmured, "How soft you are." In response, her tongue darted out and slithered through his lips and teeth so that she was kissing him fully, intimately--and he was kissing her back.
"Oh my darling," she moaned, "We just got off to a bad start. But things will be groovy from now on--you'll see. Tell me you'll give us a chance... "
His arm tightened around her and he tilted her face up to his. Her skin felt like silk to him--electrically charged silk. Carefully, he lowered his mouth and kissed her warmly, tenderly. It meant something special and her fingers touched his cheek and his mouth crushed her harder. It was so much precious time.
� Then her small fingers crawled into the opening of his shirt and she caressed his chest, and he was lost completely.
All he .wanted to do was teach this precious little girl how to make love. And if she proved to be a slow pupil, well... he would take all night.
"Why don't we get cozy," she asked, reading his thoughts.
"You come up with the greatest suggestions," he teased, kissing the tip of her nose. But don't you have a date-- you're all dressed up... "
"Yes silly--I have a date," she laughed. "And I'm sitting right here on his lap."
"I'm afraid I'm a little slow," he said, feeling foolish.
"Yeah, I'll say," she flipped. "Why your boss wouldn't have any trouble picking up a hint, I'll bet... "
Larry laughed with her and then suddenly his muscles tensed.
"What did you say?" he demanded. "What the hell do you know about Gus?"
Andrea's mouth dropped open in surprise and suddenly she looked away as though she had let something slip.
"Look at me," he snapped. "What did you have to do with my boss? If he laid a hand on you I'll... "
The girl looked frightened but she recovered nicely.
"Don't be absurd," she said patiently as though speaking to a child. "I had dinner with him once that's all--it was harmless. He happened to call one night and he sounded so lonely that I thought I'd be nice to--to an old man--" and here she giggled. "After all," she continued matter-of-factly, "you've got no right to be jealous even if--even if something had happened because it was practically like pulling teeth to get you to pay any attention to me... "
Suddenly Larry was angry, and he shoved her off his lap and watched her flounce across the room. Perhaps he was being insane and irrational but the thought of her even speaking to Gus was enough to set his blood boiling. Why, she was nothing but a naive little brat, after all...
"What's wrong with you," he snapped. "Can't you find anyone to go out with besides a married man?" He realized by Andrea's gasp that she had been unaware of the fact that Gus had a wife. "You think you're so damn sophisticated, but you're still a child. How do you think you'd feel now if something had happened between you and him and you just found out that he was married? Not such a pretty picture, is it?"
Andrea sat curled up in a corner of a large plush sofa and stared at him blankly. There followed a long, uncomfortable silence during which Andrea drummed her fingers maddeningly on a small commode alongside the sofa. Larry felt as though he was going to explode at any moment if she didn't cut it out, and his fingers itched to yank every hair out of her head. If he had any sense he'd get up and get out... but he didn't have any sense where she was concerned and he couldn't get his body to move out of the chair.
Finally, she stood up and began to pace the room, reminding Larry of a lithe tigress in heat. His body grew uncomfortably warm, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. He was struck by her extreme sensuality, her youthfulness. Her black velvet dress enveloped her body like a second skin, revealing every curve of her compact little body. And her slender legs were exposed to a point too high for comfort--his comfort.
"I need a drink," he said finally.
Andrea curled up in the corner of the coach again.
"You know where the bar is," she said insinuatingly.
"My mother did show you around, didn't she? Get it yourself."
Larry strode out of the room, afraid that if he remained he might strike her. What was it about the girl that brought out his basest emotions, he wondered?
Andrea, curled up kittenishly on the sofa, watched him as he re-entered the room. Her dress was pulled up high, exposing her lovely thighs.
Larry stared at her, drained his glass in one swallow. He felt an intense heat spreading throughout his body and originating from his groin. He had brought the scotch decanter with him from the living room and poured himself a refill, draining that also.
Andrea called to him: "Come here, Larry." Her tone was suddenly commanding, as though she was aware of the power she had over him.
He walked to the girl, sat down beside her.
"What do you want?" he growled.
"You know," she said.
With one swift movement of her luscious body, she was in his arms, kissing his face, his eyes and his mouth. Her tongue searched for his, her lips sucking him strongly-- almost as if she wanted to devour him.
Larry felt her breasts pressing against his, and the heat of their combined bodies was enough to start a forest fire. The scent of that wild perfume she was wearing, and her eternal devouring kiss broke down any last resistance Larry might have felt. If this was what she wanted, this was what she was going to get. And there would be no backing out this time!
Without removing her lips from his, she pressed him backwards onto the sofa cushions and Larry felt her lower body in constant motion as his own body began responding to her rhythmic invitation.
His hands played over her in frantic search of all her secrets. He pushed her dress up high around her waist and felt the heat of her thighs while he cupped her buttocks. She was not wearing any panties. No slip or bra either. The revelation startled him. Her lips were still locked on his, as though they would never release him, and her long dark hair covered his face. Suddenly Larry felt he was drowning, suffocating. All at once, everything became too much for him---the alcohol, this strange girl, and his own uncontrollable desires--and he had to gasp for air.
With one quick movement she slipped her dress off and let it slide carelessly to the floor.
Larry looked at her in amazement. This was no kid he was dealing with--this was a flesh and blood woman. What loveliness! What beauty! What exquisite lines! Her breasts were like two sculptured dunes, only inches away from his lips, and again he felt an all-consuming desire burning up in him.
Rather abruptly, he took the soft mounds in his hands, more roughly than he had intended. The bitch was driving him crazy... He heard a moan come from her, yet her head was back in a gesture of sensual delight.
The sound pushed him over the border of any resistance.
Any sense of guilt vanished and there was only the urgency of now... this girl, this body, these breasts, and with an animal impulse he pushed her over, off the couch onto the thick shaggy carpet. He buried his face in the cleavage of her breasts, pressing them to either side of his face. He buried his mouth around her nipples, sucked them, bit them, and her moaning became weaker and she began to utter incoherent, feverish words.
"Larry... to the moon... please... now... don't wait... oh yes... "
Larry felt her hands undo the buttons of his shirt. She was like a wildcat! He didn't want this moment of delight to pass. He wanted to keep her panting, keep her at this high pitch of ecstasy. While mouthing her breasts, he tried to undo his belt and zipper, but somehow he couldn't manage it in his excitement. He moved away from her and staggered to the sofa. He needed time to think...
"Honey, let me help you," Andrea said, rising from the carpet and coming toward him.
She started taking his shoes and socks off, and pulled his trousers and shorts off as he raised his hips dazedly. Then, with a sudden movement, she buried her head in his lap.
Larry was too shocked to react immediately---he would never have expected this kind of behavior from Andrea; something was not quite kosher but he was in no mood to try to figure it out now.
His body moved in response to the hot, wet mouth that was caressing his burning flesh.
"Relax, honey. Don't move," he heard her say. "Not yet --I don't want you this way... "
If she didn't want him that way, Larry thought wildly, she had better stop those rhythmical head movements. He squirmed and fought against exploding into millions of fireworks. His hands tried to pull her up to him, but she stubbornly resisted his silent pleas.
Then, as abruptly as she had begun all this, she ceased and, with amazing agility, she cuddled her hot, desirous body onto his, pressing her scorching mouth against his.
"I want you, Larry," she whispered in his ear. "Make me fly to the moon. I've waited for this for so long... "
"Yes, baby, yes, slowly... " he urged, trying to calm her down, while his hands rubbed her belly gently in ever-widening circles. The moment his hand found the female core of her, she collapsed.
"No Larry," she begged. "Not slowly. I can't wait any longer... "
She sobbed wildly and tried to pull his hard, manly body over her own. Her wild gyrations made it difficult for Larry to find her. But then it happened and she let out a sharp gasp of pleasure.
Larry was relieved that she was not experiencing pain, that the first time had not been difficult for her. He kissed her tenderly and began to move again.
"Hold still, Larry, hold still for a minute," she begged.
For a while, they lay motionless except for their heavy breathing. Slowly she began to move again, first in barely perceptible movements which quickly flowed into a deliberately rhythmic pattern, and he could feel her opening up in a devouring, demanding manner. He tried to be gentle with her because it was the first time she had known a man so intimately, but her erratic motions made that difficult. The girl was driving him crazy! He had never felt quite this way before, had never known it could be so good...
Her mouth found his as their bodies began to blend in a never-ending pulsing dance. Larry felt her body arch beneath him and willingly accept all of his strength, all of his manliness, all he had to give.
Tears flowing from her eyes, she arched her body in one final spasmodic shudder. With one last climactic push, he broke her strength, broke the bubble, and she collapsed beneath his explosion. He heard her cry out in pain and delight.
Later, as they lay in her bed, entwined in each other's arms he thought he had never been so happy in his life. He stroked her hair and tried to figure out how he had thought he had been alive before tonight, before Andrea...
She curled up in his arms and purred, "I had no idea it could be so good, did you, darling? Do you still like me?" she asked shyly.
He looked at her and caressed a swollen breast, thinking how perfectly the pear-shaped mound fit into his hand. Did he still like her, the girl wanted to know. What could he say--that he was happier than he had ever been in his life? That he had been a fool for avoiding her for so long? That he was proud as a king because he had been the first man to make love to her? The first and the only man, he amended.
"Little idiot," he said now affectionately, feeling her nipple become peaked in his palm. "I'll show you how much I like you. In fact, I may never stop showing you... "
She reached for him, catching his cue, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was ready for her again, ready to claim that perfect little body that had given him so much pleasure only a sort time before. It was incredible, he thought, that such an inexperienced little creature had known exactly how to excite him. Amazing that those little hands and that beautiful mouth could be so practiced, so...
So practiced?
He pushed her away from him suddenly, as though her flesh had stung him, as though that pink swollen nipple had injected a poison into his veins.
"Larry?" the girl asked bewilderedly, as he leaped out of the bed and stared down at her in horror. "What's the matter?"
Suddenly it all made sense--and the realization made him sick to his stomach.
"It--it was Gus, wasn't it?" he rasped, his face ugly with pain and incredulity. "You--you let that filthy bastard touch you, put his hands on you... How could you--" He broke off, unable to continue. All he could do was stare at her and wait for her to deny his accusation. He silently prayed that she would deny it. But she stared at the opposite wall, pale and shaken, with a sullen expression on her face. The only person in the world he had ever expected anything good of, and she had let him down.
"Then it's true... " he said dully.
She nodded slowly, still not looking at him, unable to face him. And suddenly, he could no longer face her. As he turned to leave the bedroom--to get his clothing in the other room--he thought he heard her mutter, "I did it for you, I did it for you. I thought it would make you love me...
He slammed the door when he left. Yeah, it had made him love her, all right. He loved her so much he never wanted to lay eyes on her again.
When he got back to his apartment on Thirty-seventh St. and Second Ave. he found that he had yet another headache. He started to unlock the door and then realized that it was already unlocked. He turned the knob quickly and entered, too curious to be cautious.
"Oh geezus!" he groaned. "Not you!"
Pearl was sprawled out across his studio bed in all her voluptuous glory. She had apparently been there some time because she was half-stoned and Larry spotted an almost empty bottle of gin on the floor near the bed. Besides, even if he hadn't seen the bottle he would have known that she was not sober by the fact that she was lying there stark, raving naked!
"I don't know how you got in here or what you want," he snapped. "But if you're not dressed and out of here in five minutes flat, I'm going to call your husband up and tell him to come and get you... "
The big blonde rose unsteadily and swayed towards him, her big, heavy breasts moving like two pendulums. She put her arms around his neck aggressively and he stiffened.
"Oh come on, honey--don't be like that?" she said huskily. "Here I went to all the trouble of getting your super--he's kinda cute by the way--to let me in by telling him I was your sister and now you're not even glad to see ,,, "J me...
Larry tried to remove her hands but she was strong and refused to budge. He turned his face away as she tried to kiss him. The whisky smell of her breath was making him nauseous and the rotations she was making against his pelvis with her unclad big body was only succeeding in irritating him further. He was in no mood for fun and games and he was afraid that if she didn't get out of his sight he was going to take out all his frustration and anger on her.
"I mean it, Pearl--I want you out of here. I told you that I didn't want anything more to do with you and I meant it. Go back to your husband--you deserve each other... "
"Oh come on, honey," she whined. "This is Pearlie baby you're talking to--remember me? All I want is a little loving up--I'm lonesome... "
"Go get it from someone else!" he snapped, trying desperately to disengage himself from her viselike grip.
"Now what kind of a friend are you?" she smirked, putting her hand between their bodies and grabbing him. "Did you forget that I can always tell my husband that you attacked me? That you could lose your job--just like that?" She snapped her fingers and he yelped with pain. As though to make up for it, she began to caress the spot she had hurt.
"You can tell your damn husband anything you like!" he shouted. "As a matter of fact I'll tell him myself. He can take his stinking job and shove it... it will be worth it just to see his greasy face!"
With superhuman effort, he shoved her and she lost her balance and fell across the bed. But not before she grabbed his leg and pulled him down on top of her.
Larry struggled to get up, but she was too quick for him and instantly she had entrapped him with her arms and legs and was trying to rip his clothes off. Her lips captured his and he was forced to endure her hot, wet kiss before he could break loose.
He jumped up and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her off the bed. He picked up her dress from the floor and was about to throw it in her face when he sensed something.
He spun around and paled as he saw Andrea standing in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob and a shocked expression on her ashen face. He felt as though the breath had gone out of his body and he tried unsuccessfully to shield the naked blonde with his own body. It was no use.
Andrea turned and was gone before he could get a word out. He could hear her running down the three flights of stairs as he turned to Pearl...
The woman took in the threatening expression on his face, saw that he meant business and timidly put her clothes on.
"Not so fast!" he snapped as she picked up her purse and prepared to leave. "I'm going with you. We're going to visit your husband. I've got some unfinished business to take care of... "
He half-dragged, half-carried the protesting woman down the three flights of stairs, into a taxi and finally into the apartment house where she and Gus lived.
He rang the doorbell insistently. Finally a sleepy Gus opened the door.
"What's the matter with you?" he snarled at his wife. "It's three o'clock in the morning--I'm a working man. Couldn't you use your key, for the--" He broke off abruptly as he spotted Larry behind her.
"Hey, what's going on here?" he demanded, scratching his stomach through the striped pajama bottom. He looked at his wife suspiciously. "I thought you said you were going to the movies with Elsie," he said.
Larry shoved her into the apartment, and faced her husband.
"If I were you, I'd keep your wife on a leash," he said flatly. "Bitches who are constantly in heat shouldn't be running around loose... "
Gus reddened. "Hey, who the hell do you think you are? You can't go around talking about my wife like that? I'll have your job for that--" Larry's well-aimed fist knocked the breath out of him and he collapsed on the floor, afraid to get up.
"And that's a warning to keep away from Andrea Markham," he said coldly. "That's only a sample of what you're going to get if you so much as look at her again."
The man looked up at him dazedly, fury gathering in his face--but he didn't say a word or attempt to get up. Larry turned and waited for the elevator to come. He heard violent sounds coming from their apartment as he stepped into the elevator: the sound of flesh beating against flesh and a woman's howls of pain and fury. And he knew that Pearl's big naked buttocks were bearing the brunt of her husband's anger.
Oh well, Larry shrugged, feeling immensely better--she was certainly thick-skinned enough to bear it.
And now, he was going to get into a cab and tell the driver to hurry. He had to get someplace fast-real fast. He had wasted enough time already...
CHAPTER NINE
Andrea tried to shut the door in his face when she saw who it was, but he was too quick for her. He forced his way in and locked the door behind him. He merely laughed as she began to beat at his chest with her tiny fists, and this further infuriated her. "Whoa, baby, whoa... " he said finally, grabbing her wrists as she let loose an impressive stream of invectives. "Let's go sit down and talk calmly. I know you're furious and I know why you're furious and I don't blame you, but I--"
"I don't want to straighten anything out, you lousy hypocrite!" she sobbed. "I just want you to get out of here and--"
"I know, I know," Larry grinned, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. "And never darken your door again... "
He threw her down on the bed and pinned her body down with his own.
"Now listen to me a minute before you scratch my eyes out," he pleaded, pinning her arms above her head and trying to let her twisting and writhing body excite him. This was definitely the wrong time to get aroused, he realized. The little tigress was angry enough to scratch him to pieces.
"All right, so I acted like a boor before, when I found out about you and Gus," he acknowledged. "But it was hurt pride--it was because I love you so much that I saw red. Can't you understand that, you little fool? I realize that what happened was partly my fault--I was a jerk for trying to run away from you. And I'm certainly no angel either, but what you saw tonight was not what you think you saw. That woman forced her way in--" Andrea began sobbing.
"I--I went to your apartment to tell you how sorry I was about Gus," she gasped between sobs. "To explain to you that it never meant anything to me and--and then-- then I find you with that tramp... "
Larry realized that is was no use trying to talk sense to her. What the situation called for was action. She had stopped struggling suddenly and he thought it was safe to kiss her. But as he brought his mouth near hers, she suddenly lunged for his cheek with her fingernails and managed to draw blood before he could pin her arms again.
Furious, he picked her up bodily and put her over his knees. He yanked off the flimsy panties of her babydoll pajamas and proceeded to teach her a lesson she would not soon forget. When the fight had gone out of her, at the repeated urging of his palm against her buttocks and he saw that her flesh was red-hot, he carried her into the bathroom, turned on the shower and threw her in. He held the door shut for a few minutes, listening to her yelps as the ice-cold spray cooled her off. When he opened the door again and shut the shower off, she stood docilely, waiting for the punishment that awaited her next.
Larry picked up her soaking wet body and carried it back into the bedroom. She lay quietly on the bed as he went to get a towel with which to dry her off a little. She felt excitement boil in her blood as he dried each and every crevice of her body with the towel. Then he caressed and kissed the part of her that he had mistreated and she was even able to manage a smile as he complained that his hands still stung.
For some reason which she couldn't comprehend, she was suddenly more in love with him than ever. He had taken complete control of her and made her his. He knew exactly how to handle her and she liked the feeling.
As he kissed her warmly, he ran her fingers through his hair and murmured, "You know, Larry, I may get out of hand again. I've got bad blood or something. I've always been afraid I'd take after my mother and it seems I was right. You know, needing a lot of men and all that... "
He looked down at her for a long time and finally said seriously, "I'm willing to take that chance, honey. I'm not exactly free of demons myself you know. But maybe if you let your demons loose and I let mine loose, they can entertain each other. What do you say--will you take that chance with me?"
Andrea raised tear-filled, grateful eyes to him and kissed his mouth.
The hot blood roared in her ears as Larry's fingers traced the apex of her womanhood. He lowered his head and plunged his ravenous mouth to the lovely curves of her breasts. She shivered and caught his head in her hands. Instead of pushing it away, she pulled it tighter until her nipple swelled between his lips.
Her eyes closed as his mouth trailed a path of kisses to the soft smoothness of her belly and thighs. He flicked his frantic tongue back and forth over her flesh until she groaned joyfully.
She twisted her fingers crazily in his hair as he kissed her female beauty, crying out for him to stop before he drove her crazy, yet imprisoning him at the same time. The more she twisted and whimpered, the more frenzied became his lovemaking.
She was shocked at the complete abandon she was exhibiting, but the shock was quickly dispelled by other sensations. She heard the blood beating in her ears and knew she was going to climax if his kisses didn't stop.
Something like a sob started in her throat and she tugged weakly at his hairs. He understood and rose, crushing her in his strong arms. She began to whimper but his burning kisses stifled the sounds on her lips, as his tongue met and loved hers. Her senses reeled, and then she felt him, hot and heavy, touching her.
Her eager body accepted him instantly and her body became a rocket, spurts of fire driving it higher and higher until it exploded. Then, in a thousand flaming pieces, it floated down to earth.
When it was over, she realized she had been clinging to him for dear life. It was a good omen. She touched his panting chest almost worshipfully and thrilled as he smiled down at her. She touched his face tenderly and it was like a gesture of complete surrender. She knew her body would never be her own again.
