Such a strange turn of events, thought Angel, as she lay quietly watching Chad gather Tanya in his arms. Feeling like a voyeur, she stared at the slow, subtle movement of their bodies as they squirmed together. And, she squirmed too, her own juices flowing, her own needs directing her.
Angel was very much like her mother, Tanya ... and she was very willing and very ready to prove that to Chad. Angel inched towards the couple....
CHAPTER ONE
"Mornin'! Have a swingin' weekend?" It was meant to hurt and it did, but just barely.
Tanya returned the man's brazen appraisal coolly. "Every minute!" she said, wondering briefly why the second-in-command at the agency had to be the first person she'd see on Monday. He knew the land of weekend it had been-lonely.
She watched his hands as he paused before her desk and stared down at her. She gave him a perfunctory greeting smile, it was impossible this morning to look at the man's bland expression and not feel the indignation boil again at his Friday evening caper with her. Creep! Her private word for him churned her thoughts. Why had she taken his offer of the ride? And how did he know her VW wasn't in the station lot as usual?
He leaned across the glass top and she noticed the dirt was still there under his right index nail, just where it had been when his hand slid across the seat on Friday. Somehow that fingernail seemed to tell the inner truth about a man who was outwardly fastidious. Underneath, he was a dirty man and his eagerness to want to mess up her life had proven it.
"Friends?" the voice across the desk inquired. It had the sound of mock penitence.
"Of course." She looked up as she replied. Catching his glance at the appointment book opened before her, she started to twist it for his inspection.
Calling an airy "Don't bother," he turned from the reception desk, then abruptly swung back. "Y'know, you don't need to sit here at the bottom," he chided. His eyes had the same strange intensity she'd seen in the car. "There's a place in copy-writing today and there's going to be a slot in casting next week. Could mean big things for you."
"Thank you, Seymour." She found the arch of the man's left eyebrow easier to look at than the rest of his face. "I'm very happy where I am."
"How could you be?" he snorted, husky with impatience. "Ya down on equal rights for women or somethin' else ridiculous?"
When she didn't respond, he opened his mouth to say more, thought better of it, and spun on his heel. She watched the angry stride of the wide shouldered, linebacker-muscled senior vice-president as he stormed toward the wing reserved for the top men at Clark Advertising and fought the impulse to laugh. That she, a mere receptionist, could so dent Seymour's veneer the first thing of a Monday morning deserved a laugh from someone. The moisture at one comer of her eye came unexpectedly. Why couldn't a nice guy come on to her, instead of men like Seymour?
She shuddered at the way, for one brief moment in his car, she had forgotten herself. Had she really been that easy to get to ... even for that creep? It was as if Friday had just happened.
He'd driven the Mercedes slowly and deliberately from the station until they were outside the village, en route to her place. Without a word he'd floor boarded off the road, down and onto a dirt path. The moment the motor died he was halfway across the front seat, one arm grappling at her shoulder while his free hand scrabbled for the zipper at the front of his pin-stripe slacks.
"Suh ... Seymour! What? ... Please! ., . What are you ..
His lips crushed the words from her mouth as he ground against her. She fought the immediate thrill his brutishness inspired in her. In spite of her disgust for a man who had hounded her since he had hired her, the simple animal fact was that she found pleasure in his kiss. Abruptly, his lips broke contact and there was an almost maniacal grin on his face as he gaped down at his pants.
"There ya go, Tanya baby!" he cackled, his hand at the nape of her neck, forcing her to look downward.
There was no restraining the gasp that broke from her lips. Huge and hard, long and trembling, the whitened erect penis speared up at her. A flood of years washed over Tanya at the sight. How long since she had seen an aroused male?
Here-so wonderfully near, was a full-blown phallus. No, not phallus, cock! Beautiful wanting cock!
"Ever tell you I was a submariner back in WW Two?" The stupid irrelevance sounded brittle coupled with his desire, making each word crack like an adolescent's.
"Seymour ... put it away! Take me home!"
"Skipper used to yell, 'Dive! Dive!' when we were goin' down." Clark was staring at her mouth and his eyes were glazed with determination. "That's the word, baby ... Dive! DIVE!" His fingers at the back of her head shoved her down ward, and she felt herself helplessly following the urge without needing the pressure of his hand.
"Yeah! Dive ... Dive!"
His cock-flesh was heaven to her mesmerized mouth. Without the slightest effort to control herself, Tanya, who until now had been indifferent toward Seymour and all men who had tried to make love to her since her widowing, was in passion mania.
Her head snapped back from the temptation and she grabbed for self-control. Always she'd fought the urge to let go and follow the jungle hunger of her body. Somewhere there was Mister Right Guy. This time, the protest was smothered. Seymour Clark had put a taste of sweet manflesh on her lips.
"Take it, Tanya!" he hissed impatiently, his fingers toying with the hair tumbling about her shoulders, as he stared down at the beautiful face so close to his throbbing penis. "You know ya want it!"
The fat, straining cock passed through her lips and, with a predatory moan, Tanya surrendered to the magnetism of her need-filled male. Her eyes sparkling with runaway lust, her mouth puckered tightly around the shaft, she began to suck. Even though she despised the man, she was driven to worship high ugly/gorgeous hard-on. Explosive sparks danced from its tip toward the roof of her mouth, and the round head was irresistible as she tongue-deviled the thick cone.
Somewhere far, far away she heard moans of delirious joy as she began to stroke the base of his shaft in rhythm to the sucking of her lips. Tension was building all along the bony hardness, and the groans turned suddenly to little cries of passion.
"Yeah, Tanya! YEAH!"
A warm spurt of semen sprayed wildly against the roof of her mouth and, with the first crazed drop, Tanya was in heaven. She was taking cum! Love juice was dashing toward her throat, splashing her tongue, and drizzling down ... down ... down!
Savagely, she finished. The mist washed quickly away and she was back in the Mercedes, crouched across the lap of dirty Seymour Clark, feeling ten times dirtier than the man.
Recovery came quickly. When she regained her composure, a tidal wave of remorse washed over Tanya. For one agonizing moment she stared at the crotch she had just burrowed into so lustily. A circle of semen stained through the pants and she wondered how he would explain that to his wife. His wife! Seymour Clark was married. Seymour Clark had three children! Seymour Clark had position and power and nothing to lose in Wilton-no matter what he did. She, however, could lose everything.
The whole thing had been a stupid mistake. She gave Seymour the most determined look she could muster. "Take me home," she said it in a low voice, husky with the semen still sticky in her throat, "take me home this instant and don't ever ask me to ride with you again."
"Aw, Tanya ... come on ... ease off!"
"Seymour Clark, you are married. I am a mother and...."
"Screw the sermon, Tanya!" he thundered, reaching for the ignition. "Don't tell me you didn't like what you did!" His fist smacked the wheel and the curb gouged savagely into the front right tire as they raced from the side road. "We're adults! You're on your own, and I might as well be, with the lush I'm goin' home to."
"But I'm not on my own," she said quietly, but finally.
His face was a study in runaway frustration. "Look at yourself, girl! You're class. You got livin' to do. You're built like ... aw, hell!"
In that moment of awkward outrage, he looked as Tanya imagined he did as a young boy, robbed of what he thought was rightfully his. Suddenly, she felt a twinge of sympathy.
"We both have living to do, Seymour." She laced her fingers and stared down at her lap, struggling for the right way to turn him off permanently. "You with your family and I with mine." She sounded like a preacher and she knew it. She glanced helplessly at him as he glared in silent concentration at the oncoming traffic.
"You better keep your eye on that daughter," he muttered when they reached the turn to her place.
"Angel? What do you mean?"
"Crowd she's keepin' company with. Heard my boy with some of his dirty friends talking...."
"Go on," she demanded, trying to subdue the sudden tension, "what were they saying?"
His fingers brushed nervously through his graying hair. It was clear he regretted the comment. "Not going to repeat that kind o' yak. Just watch the company she's keepin'."
Alone through the long weekend, Tanya had considered quitting her job at the agency because of Seymour. Why did he have to live in Wilton, too? Curiously, once the episode in the car was over, she felt no guilt. She was annoyed that the delicious sweet taste of Seymour's cum wouldn't go away.
She wandered from room to room in the second story of the gatehouse that seemed, in her loneliness, as cold inside as it was outside. She had converted the bam-like Connecticut apartment into an intimate, gracious home. She had refinished the furniture to its original cherry wood luster, and made the drapes for the eight huge living room windows. Everything in the apartment bore the touch of her creativity.
She peered at the mansion dominating the crest of the hill high above the gatehouse. Petit Trianon-an inappropriate name for such a monstrosity. Just one of the living rooms of that place could contain two apartments the size of hers. However, that had nothing to do with the problem at hand. It would be impossible to find an apartment in another town that would give the two of them the advantages they had at Trianon.
The same was true of finding another job. She was sure that her salary was all part of Seymours campaign to win her affection. If she dumped the job, it would be the beginning of a new financial crisis, all the economic stability she'd struggled for over seventeen lonely years could be destroyed overnight.
"What's with me?" she demanded of her bathroom mirror. It was the longest Saturday night she could remember. She squinted at the glass as she rubbed the dark rinse uniformly through her hair. "Damn!" She grabbed for a tissue and stabbed at the black dot of Formula 82 that had dripped uninvited to the tip of her nose.
Wadding the Kleenex for an all-out attack on the smudged circle, she glared at the leftover blur. It was dead center. For dismayed seconds, she studied the tangled mess of her hair, the bulls-eye blotch on her nose, and the faded print smock that covered her upper body. "Damn!" she said again, savoring the epithet. "You're a sex object, Tanya Hydom! That's your problem!" Exasperated at her effort at humor, she turned back to the sink to finish the rinse.
Hours later, the Saturday night rerun of an old Tonight Show over, she was at the mirror again, pinning her hair before going to bed. Her face was vastly improved, no age lines across her neck, no blemishes or forehead wrinkles to give away thirty-four years, not even the hint of circles under her eyes. She might pass for Angel's sister.
On Monday morning, when she boarded the non-smokers' car, her mind was made up--she would stay with the agency. She liked her job. It was that fact that held, her through the long weekend without Angel, who had been staying at a friend's house.
From where she sat, in the center of the richly appointed reception oval, she could see the length of the two long office hallways to the right and left of her desk. The precise indentations along the corridor walls like caves, into which employees disappeared for a day's work, were smaller versions of the Reception Center's plushiness; wall-to-wall carpeting, floor-to-ceiling windows and massive desks. Despite the richness of their surroundings, the copy writers, casting directors, producers, and account executives all seemed such an intense, pre-occupied lot. Not one of them, for all she could observe, appeared to enjoy what he was doing.
At least she did, Tanya told herself. She thought of the only reason in her life for putting up with it all--her daughter Angel.
She had done everything for Angel. For eighteen years, Tanya and her daughter had been extremely close to each other and even without seeing her, Tanya had a vivid image of what she was probably doing at this moment.
"Library, I'll bet," she murmured to herself, wondering if the girl was still as panicked over mid-terms as she had been at breakfast. Reluctantly, she'd granted permission for the over-night cram session at Kim's, so the girls could bone up for English Lit together. Another lonely night at the apartment, thought Tanya.
"I'll be in the library all morning and class all afternoon," Angel had announced as her mother hurried for the door. Tanya could imagine Angel at 10:45, burrowing over the hated poems of John Dryden at one of those long, blond reading desks, trying to concentrate and hating every boring second of it.
The foot of the bed moved under Terry's weight as he crept toward the girl. Angel knew who had come boldly into her bedroom, and she didn't need to look to know that he was naked and wearing a rock-hard cock. He made no secret of his approach when he entered the apartment. His shoes thudded as he kicked free of them, and his belt buckle clinked merrily when his trousers tumbled to the floor.
For the moment, she ignored his entry and continued to stare in fascination at the photographs spread across the pillows. There were half a dozen nude candids she'd taken of a gorgeously stacked female.
"Look, Terry," she murmured huskily without even turning her head. "Isn't she just the wildest thing you ever saw?"
She felt his body press against hers, and the hard length of his erection flattened across the small of her back.
"Beautiful, baby," he whispered, gawking over her shoulder. "She really your ma?"
"She's Mommy, not Mai" protested Angel with mock irritation. "She's my Mommy and she doesn't need what you're shoving against my fanny."
"How d'ya know? Maybe she's gettin' plenty," he snickered, seizing one of the photographs. "With an ass like that, she's gotta be!"
Angel squealed in outrage and snatched the photo back. "Well, she's not! I know. Just look at the way she begs in her sleep-but it's not for what you think."
Terry studied the picture. The straining body was ripe and voluptuous, as if dying to be fucked. Tanya's dark, shimmering hair tumbled sexily around her shoulders, and her milk-white breasts, capped with obviously turgid nipples, thrust firm and full toward the viewer.
"You didn't leave her any secrets," said Terry, staring at a graceful hand that lay across the brunette's prominent sex mound.
"I took it last night when she squirmed out of her sheets in her sleep. She never knew I did it," Angel boasted. She pressed the photo to her lips and kissed the soft smile on her mother's face.
"You're a nut!" exclaimed Terry, wrapping his t arms around her waist and groping with eager fingers for the two cherries very near at hand. "Like mother, like daughter," he murmured. He cupped her full breasts and squeezed playfully.
"Terry, be serious!" Angel jerked impatiently out of the circle of his arms and he fell back on the spread. He studied the blonde's sizzling curves from the rear.
She dropped the photo back onto the pillow and twisted around to look at her favorite bedmate. Terry was resting the weight of his body on one hand and stroking his swollen penis with the other. Her eyes widened as her attention centered on his hard-on. An erect prick always intrigued her, and Terry possessed a very special one. She bent over and kissed the vermilion darkness of the crown. The cock shaft leaped higher in response.
The long, white spear stood proudly above a pair of balls that were crammed with juice, crying to be freed. However, it was the ballooning red cap that excited Angel the most. When they'd been apart for several days, it seemed to blossom grotesquely out of proportion. Abruptly, she forced her attention back to the photos on the bed.
"Mommy bothers you, doesn't she?" she demanded.
"Ummmhh," he agreed. Personally, I dig blondes, but your mother's a beautiful woman."
"You'd like to put your big old cock right up her middle, wouldn't you?" she persisted.
Terry looked from the torrid photos to the tantalizing Angel at his side, and his hand tightened on his prick as he answered. "Way I feel, I could shove it right through that picture," he groaned. "C'mon, Angel!"
"Well, you can't have her for real," she teased, watching his stroking intensify. "Ever since I was born, I've taken the place of her needing a man. She's told me that lots of times."
"How come?"
"Raising me, that's how come." Angel was deadly serious as she looked at Terry. "She says she owed it to Daddy to raise a fine daughter in his memory."
Terry whistled softly. "What a waste! Couldn't she have both? A man and you?", "Doesn't need it! I just wish I could turn into a mammoth prick after she goes to sleep at night. She doesn't know what she's missing. It would make her very happy."
"You are pure nut!" laughed Terry.
The girl seemed not to hear him, swung and spoke to the photos. "Look at me, Mommy. Your little girl is a super dick blasting into your vagina! I'm shoving my big, sweet head all the way up, and you're going cock-nutty with the feeling." She seemed oblivious to Terry as she arched deeply, her fingers dancing across her turgid nipples.
"Look, Mommy, I'm three cocks in one!" She strummed excitedly at her dark, stiffened cones, and it was obvious to Terry that violent, sensual lightning bolts were stabbing through her body. He waited hungrily to see how far she would go. Still manipulating one boob, Angel's other hand dove between her shapely thighs and probed the lips of her quim.
"Ooohh, yes, Mommy ... yessss ... I am a cock. A cock! Oohhh ... bigger and bigger...." She was rushing toward orgasm as she played violently with the hidden clit muscle.
Terry could see her climax approaching, and the sheer animalism of the girl, writhing and panting as she called to the woman in the photos, drove him mad. "I gotta, too, Angel ... I got plenty for her!" Terry lurched forward to his knees, jerking furiously at his inflamed erection.
Angel's eyes were dark circles of desire as her glance darted momentarily to the masturbating boy. "You do have to! Do it ... do it to yourself!" she screamed at the possessed male. "Beat it! Jerk yourself off over her!"
It was separate mutual madness. The two climaxed at the same instant, Angel squealing with joy and Terry groaning. His exploding prick hurled its warm juices at the pillow, soaking several of the pictures.
The instant her orgasm passed, Angel dove to rescue the spattered photos and lovingly wiped the semen from the glossy surfaces. "That's as close as you'll get to her," she said matter-of-factly. "She's all mine. My Mommy." She placed the dried prints on her end table. "Know what Tanya means? That's her name."
"Huh-uh," grunted Terry, looking mournfully at his front. His cock was as feverishly ready to go as it had been before.
"Tanya means 'fairy queen.' That's my Mommy," she smiled possessively. "She's all for me, and I'm all she needs."
"You're all I need, baby! Now, damn it!" He lunged in naked hunger for the luscious blonde and spreadeagled her across the bed. He crowded between her legs and jammed his prick against her pulsing cuntlips. Angel moaned and writhed. "Ohhh, Terry, I need it! Mommy doesn't, but God, I do!"
The cock drove hot and wild into her, and she shrieked with desire as her legs wrapped around his hips. "Do it to me, Terry! Oh, fuck me! FUCK ME!"
His semen tore into her convulsing body, and she gasped with joy, meeting his orgasm with her own. With scarcely a pause, they began a fresh frenzy of love-making, driving frantically at each other.
At that moment, Tanya Hydom was watching the horde of employees pour out of the elevator. Her thoughts were partly on those who came toward the glass doors of her reception office and partly on Angel.
She saw a tall man step out of the elevator. Suddenly, her thoughts were back in New York.
He looked uncertainly at the directory posted in the center of the hall. Then he looked toward the glass-paneled doors which opened into the room which was Tanya's domain. His eyes brightened as he approached, and Tanya immediately drew many conclusions about the man. After five years at the reception desk, Tanya had become something of an expert in judging those who walked through that door and approached her desk. This man was different. He was not a client, she concluded. Clients were always more self-assured. He was not an actor-actors always radiated a veneer of show business. He was certainly not a salesman-much too unpolished for that.
But there was something about the man; a kind of cat-like grace to his powerful frame, a sort of special confidence in the way he carried his body. He rested powerful hands on the edge of her desk and leaned toward her, lowering his voice as he spoke. "Miss, I'm Chad Williams."
"Do you have an appointment, Mr. Williams?" she asked, putting just the right touch of practiced warmth in her voice.
"No, uh ... I'd like to speak to the casting director, if he's in."
That's it, sighed Tanya inwardly. He's another hopeful-a stranger to the commercial world, trying his wings without an agent.
She resisted the temptation to tell him the agency had five casting directors, any one of whom would listen to a reading, ask him to leave a tape, and then send him on his way.
"We have several. Let me see...." She glanced down at the day schedule for the casting people. Jean Waltz seemed to have an open book. "Won't you have a seat? I'll see if Miss Waltz can see you."
Miss Waltz groaned that she could ... in a few minutes. A half an hour later Tanya glanced over her shoulder at the lone figure in the reception room. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Williams. Miss Waltz should be right with you."
"That's all right. Got lots of time," Chad responded.
She could always tell the first visits of males to the office. If their manner didn't tell her something as they approached her desk, their surreptitious casing of her figure while they waited gave Tanya the word. She knew she had a body men enjoyed mentally undressing, and, frankly, she didn't mind. But this Chad Williams was different. Usually, she felt irritated by a stranger's guilty look when she caught him staring at her. There was no such guilt in the eyes of this man when her glance met his.
"First visit," he volunteered. "And I think I'm out of my league."
Tanya pivoted on her chair and looked directly at the man. It was a rare admission from someone waiting for an appointment with a casting director. "You have an announcers voice," she replied. "Maybe you'll get an audition."
The buzzer sounded on her desk. It was Miss Waltz's secretary, asking if Mr. Williams would come by later in the afternoon. The old dodge, thought Tanya. Jean Waltz smelled an amateur and didn't want to be bothered.
"See you at four then," Chad said, gathering his topcoat and trying unsuccessfully to hide his defeat.
Tanya watched his departure and was puzzled at the put-down Williams had gotten. He had been the only enthusiastic face she'd seen around the agency all morning. Correction ... there was another. Georgianna French was casing the male as she walked by him, carrying a tray with coffee and Danish.
"Thanks, Tanya, doll." She giggled as she acknowledged Tanya's hurrying to hold the door. Georgie always had that curious giggle when she was excited. "Mr. Clark made me tear straight out for coffee. Couldn't wait for the cart ... must've had a bad weekend."
"Good luck," murmured Tanya. Georgie, as the insiders knew, had been a plaything for several of the junior execs. She had then been appropriated by Seymour. With classic Playboy centerfold breasts, accented by an uplift bra, red hair tumbling sexily at her shoulders, and a calculated boldness in wearing hot pants, Georgie couldn't miss.
"What do you think the boss told me just now?" Light wisps of hair brushed Tanya's cheek irritatingly as Georgie bent to whisper the confidence. "He wants you to take a promotion to casting assistant when Jack leaves next week."
"He told you that? I should think he'd speak first to the person concerned!"
"Ummmmhh...." The girl's gaze was thoughtful. "Funny thing, he says he did pitch it to you and you turned the chance down. Something bugging you with Seymour, Tanya? He digs his widow neighbor. I know that."
"Why don't you go have your coffee?" Tanya snipped. She knew instant remorse by the hint expression as Georgie tinned away. She liked her, in spite of their differences in age and dress, and obvious difference in life style.
Biting nervously at her lipstick, she watched the barely perceptible, but saucily sexy movement as Georgie retreated down the hall with her tray. At least Georgie was an honest female, which was more than Tanya could claim when she tried to pretend to herself that men were unimportant in her life. Deep inside she knew the exact opposite was true, even after all these years.
Once, shortly after coming to Clark, Tanya had been sent on an emergency errand to one of the account offices. Without knocking, she had burst into the inner office and found Georgianna in the midst of a one-girl orgy. Now, watching the redhead's sensual grace as she strolled away, the incident was made vivid again.
When Tanya swung open the paneled door marked "Private," Georgie was spreadeagled, in torrid nudity, across a hassock in the center of the executive office. Three males, in varying states of undress, all wearing bared erections, were using the voluptuous, spaced-out sexpot for their most carnal wants.
One had dragged Georgie's head and shoulders over the edge of the hassock, and Tanya remembered how black the cushioned footstool looked against the whiteness of the secretary's body. With a sense of shock that she had yet been unnoticed by any of the four, Tanya gasped at the man kneeling at Georgie's head. He had forced a mammoth penis into the tender lips, and it looked to the stunned witness as if the girl had taken at least six inches of the organ. Tanya had never seen such a wild expression in a female. In fact, she realized that she had never seen a woman in sexual extremity before.
As Georgie sucked the cock in her mouth, she spread her lovely legs to the phallus belonging to her boss. It was clear that the cock had often stuffed her vagina, and Tanya thought she would faint at the sight of all that beautiful erection disappearing into Georgie.
While copulating with one, and fellating the other, the flame-haired sexpot somehow managed to pump the third in urgent masturbatory frenzy.
Semen flew in gobs before Tanya's eyes. The exec being masturbated came first, and milk-white cum sprayed happily across Georgie's writhing middle. Tanya never could recall whether the other two men were in orgasm before the uproar came, or whether the boss's arrival triggered their grand finale.
Whichever, she was abruptly shouldered out of the way by Vice-President Seymour Clark, who was striding toward the carnal madness, shouting the vilest epithets.
Tanya remembered Georgianna's nonchalance afterward. The three executives had been fired, but the redhead was promoted, without delay, to be Seymour's private secretary.
She smiled quietly to herself, recalling how Georgie had taken the new role as a matter of course, and had, for two years, been acknowledged by all as Seymour's secretary and personal plaything.
Promptly at four, Mr. Williams was back. This time, Tanya studied the approaching figure with more interest. At least he wasn't a quitter! A shame, too, for Jean would make short work of him. With a sigh of dismay at his persistence, Jean Waltz said she would see Mr. Williams in a few minutes.
Four-forty-five came and Tanya began to gather her things to leave. The man was trying unsuccessfully to look nonchalant. Twice during this last wait, Tanya called Jean's office to get her to see her caller. Each time, she was told snappishly it would be in a few minutes. Tanya wanted to tell him his chance of getting a serious audience was nil. Unless....
She wondered why she felt attracted to this stranger. She guessed Chad Williams must be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was clean-cut, mature, and obviously not an out-of-work actor looking for a few fast dollars on a voice-over commercial. Why did he, sitting silently there, disturb her so? Why this strange, tingling sensation? "Look, I shouldn't tell you this, but I don't think you'll get to see Miss Waltz today," she said, violating all agency instructions.
Chad stubbed his cigarette into the tray and shook his head. "Got the same runaround at the last six agencies."
He looked directly into Tanya's eyes and gave her a helpless kind of smile. "Maybe I shouldn't ask, but I'd like to talk to you. Could you have a cup of coffee with me when you get off?"
Tanya was startled by the invitation. She was taken with the man, and tried to tell herself that there was something more than his rugged handsomeness that attracted her. "I'd be glad to have coffee with you," she smiled, gathering up her purse.
"I'm in big trouble," he told her when they reached the downstairs coffee shop. "I'd like to find out from you if I'm chasing a wild goose, or if I oughta stay with it."
She was fascinated by his eyes, the strength of his jaw-line, and the way an unruly lock of hair tumbled from his forehead as he described his dilemma.
"Just got separated from the service after ten years," he told her. "Had a couple of years on the side moonlighting in broadcasting, and remembered that a program director told me I'd have a good chance in commercials. Voice-overs and that kind of thing. So, I came straight from the service to try my luck." Chad looked glumly at his coffee. "But I'm wasting my time."
"How long have you been trying?"
"About two months."
"That's not too long. You can't expect it to happen overnight."
She had seen it a thousand times-hopefuls with good voices, and a few years at some little radio station in Nowheresville, eager for the pot of gold that lay in the one-minute TV commercial. Usually, after a few futile stabs at the agencies, the disillusioned ones quit.
"All I want is a foot in the door," Chad went on. "But the casting directors are all great dodge artists and I've about run out of bread."
Tanya saw the line of light flesh on his ring finger, accentuated by the darkly tanned skin around it. "Are you married?"
"Was," he said. His tone was dead. "That's why I'm doing this. She really cleaned me out. Separation pay, accrued leave, the works. It was all my fault. I seem to be a specialist in bad decisions, and getting married just before my last tour in Nam was one of them. We were bad news and both wanted to break off and start again."
Chad looked up and smiled. "Anyhow, I took a look at my know-how with a fifty-caliber gun, at my liberal arts dqgree, and at my radio time. Advertising, and maybe commercials, seemed like the best bet."
Tanya sensed the man was leveling, and she felt an immediate sympathy for him. He listened to her suggestions that he get an agent, and not try to free-lance his way into the casting world, and that he set up a demonstration tape that would give agencies a preview of his voice.
"You have what's called a "big voice', deep and full. It's much in demand these days. Do you have a portfolio?"
"Portfolio?" he repeated, mystified.
"Pictures. Of your face, or any special features that commericals like to use. It pays to have things like that with you. Especially if you're just starting."
He was shaking his head in despair. "Lord, I couldn't swing an agent right now. I'm flat out."
"You wouldn't have to pay one to take you on." She paused. "I could give you a name or two, but you shouldn't go in empty-handed." A mad thought came over her, and she acted on an impulse bred out of loneliness. "Look, I'm a kind of amateur photographer. Maybe I could help you get started-at least with some pictures for when you go to an agent. I don't know what you'll do about a recording, but any agent would go for your voice."
"Say, that'd be great," Chad said. "How do we get together?"
"Where are you staying?"
"With a buddy across the city. But his wife isn't too happy about it."
Tanya didn't know what possessed her to make the suggestion, but she made it. "I live in a little place out in the country. If you'd like to get some pictures, you could come out with me tonight. Angel, my daughter, goes to the community college, but she's away until tomorrow. You could use her bedroom."
"Terrific! But what about your husband? Would he mind?"
"I'm a loner, too," she replied. "Except for Angel. I lost my husband in Korea."
Chad stared at her in surprise. "You're kidding! You must have been a child bride!" He wondered privately if she was lying to him. She seemed hardly more than twenty-five.
Tanya laughed. "I was a child." Her expression sobered. "I was very young, and very foolish, and madly in love with a sergeant. I woke up one day feeling very seventeen and very pregnant. Angel was on the way. So, we were married the day before he left to get himself killed."
Chad flushed. "I'm sorry. I mean ... you seem so young. It didn't seem possible...." His voice drifted off.
"What did you do?" Tanya asked softly. "In the service, I mean." She felt as though she had known this man for years.
"I was just another guy," he answered. "First Cavalry. I was a sergeant like your husband."
That's it, Tanya thought. He's so much like he was! He even looked like her husband. "My hus band was First Cavalry, too," she murmured. "But you said ten years. Isn't that a little long?"
Chad's laugh was cynical. "Amen to thatl Dad was a career man. Up through the ranks from non-com to colonel. I thought that was for me. 'Learn soldiering from the ground up,' the old man said. I went in after college, made master sergeant." He shrugged. "Just wised up a little slow, I guess. I took my discharge." He wanted to get off the subject. "I'm surprised you haven't married again."
Tanya could be j'ust as direct as he. "Lots of friends," she said. "They all panic at the idea of a widow with a daughter."
Chad signaled for the check. "Let's go take some pictures. Where do you live?"
"Up in Connecticut. We can make the five-fifty, if we hurry."
"Oh, ye gods! Now I've put my foot in it! You're gonna think I'm a bum, but I don't even think I have train fare. To tell you the truth, I've been doing the city on foot, trying for a shot at this business."
"Come on," she laughed. His honesty was refreshing. "We'll share my commuter ticket. With a little luck in the darkroom, you should come back to town with a fistful of glossies."
They made the 5:50 express to Wilton, and forty-eight minutes later the train arrived at the suburban station. Chad stared at the row of buildings along the sleek new depot.
"This is country? Looks more like a mini-Grand Central," he laughed.
Moments later, Tanya wheeled the Volkswagen out of the commuter parking lot. Chad held his breath as she drove the bug quickly out of the village along a wildly curved road lined with maples and stone fencing. Once, as she slowed, the back of her hand brushed his leg. He made no effort to pull away. Tanya's heart raced. That electricity again!
"Wow!" he breathed in awe, looking up at the great sweep of green. They were swinging between two stone gateposts toward a mansion at the crest of the hill before them. "Nice little cabin!"
"Not mine," she assured him. "I'm in the gatehouse over here. Mr. Tycott owns the castle."
She swung the car into the grotto of the three car garage. Chad stepped out and held the door for her. She hurried ahead of him up to the second level. As she climbed the steps, Chad studied the provocative curve of her rear and the smooth turn of her calf muscles.
"It's nice for Angel and me here," she said.
"Quite a place!" Chad's quick appraisal swept from thick-beamed ceiling, to the leaded-glass windows, to the plush carpeting. The apartment had the look of quiet, continental luxury.
"We get the gatehouse in exchange for helping out up on the hill. Angel and I take turns supervising Mr. Tycott's children. He's a widower. It's perfect. A receptionist's salary is nothing. I did have insurance, and a little stock, but if it hadn't been for Mr. Tycott, the whole thing would have been gone long ago."
"Where's Angel?"
"You mean right now?"
He nodded.
"Spending the night with some of the girls from Stamford. At least, they'd better be girls!" She saw the mystified look on Chad's face. "Stamford's our nearest community college. It's no Wellesley, but it's an education. I don't want her to be thirty-four and stuck in a meaningless job."
Chad was jolted by her candor. "I can't buy that!" he protested.
"What?"
"That you're really thirty-four. I'm going to have to see this daughter before I'll believe it."
"Thank you, sir." Tanya glowed at the compliment, and cast an appraising glance at his young face. "Adding machine says you're at least thirty-one or thirty-two yourself, but your face says it isn't so."
"It's so," he admitted. "Plus two. I've just turned thirty-four myself."
Tanya guided her guest toward Angel's room. "Come on in. Make yourself at home. Shower's in there. I'm going to freshen up myself." She paused at the door. "There's proof on the wall. They're pictures I took of my baby." She closed the door behind her.
Chad walked to the wall. There were pictures in every stage of dress and undress. He whistled softly to himself as he stared at the teen-age picture of Angel. There was a startling similarity in their faces, in spite of Tanya's dark hair. However, the photos showed him far more of Angel than he had seen of Tanya! Angel was a lush, young witch with a maddening body, whose dramatic lines were clearly spelled out in bikini boldness. He speculated that Tanya, in undressed fashion, would match every curve ... plus I His thoughts were tumbling over one another as he peeled off his clothes. He wondered about Tanya's momentary hesitation when she remarked that Angel was spending the night with the girls. She had seemed unsure about that. Then Chad thought of the widower, Mr. Tycott, in the mansion on the hill. "If it hadn't been for Mr. Tycott...." she had said. In spite of his admiration for the plucky young widow, Chad found himself wondering what services Tycott expected.
"You've got a dirty mind, Williams," he muttered to himself, as he removed his jockeys. Dirty mind or no, the erection, booming from his nakedness, told him that other parts of Chad Williams had had a reaction to the strange apartment he had come to.
The shower sounded good to him. When he had finished toweling himself, he wrapped the towel around his waist and snooped about the borrowed bedroom. For a reason he couldn't explain, he tugged open the top drawer of Angel's dresser. Face down was another sheaf of pictures. He flipped them over, and caught his breath at the sight. The glossies, seventeen of them, were pictures of Angel from her first years onward. Mommy's hobby! The last two were like the first fifteen-nude.
Chad sucked in his breath as he turned to the last two. The girl had a glorious body and as he looked at the full bloom of her breasts, he could see that her nipples were animated and taut at the moment of the picture-taking. His mind went to the photographer. It had to be her mother. The turgid cherries caught, and held, his attention. Obviously, the lens had found a fascination in the breasts. The ruby tips appeared translucent and moist, so clear was the definition. Chad stared at the light triangle of down that crowned Angel's well-developed pubic mound. It was the innocent work of a proud mother, but it could well have been made for a sizzling display of erotic wonders.
He gripped the erection that bounded from under the bath towel. A barrage of thoughts raced helter-skelter through his mind. Tanya had brought him to her home out of a desire to help his career. Nothing she had said, or done, suggested taking him to bed with her. His fist yanked hotly at the prick it held.
"Tanya! Tanya! Tanya!" he panted, staring at the pictures of her offspring. A jet of gray-white semen splashed violently against the dresser. Painstakingly, he wiped his explosion from the walnut front, replaced the photos in the top drawer, and turned away.
He looked at the bed. Its soft, white spread looked feminine and inviting to his tired body. Just twenty winks, he thought, lying across the top of the bed. He wiped the photos from his mind and wished the tension in his groin would go away.
Half an hour later, Tanya, in a rayon crepe housecoat, stepped quietly to the door of Angel's bedroom, listened, then knocked lightly. "Chad, would you like a drink?"
No answer came from the other side of the door. She stood, listening for a moment for sounds from the bathroom beyond. The room was very still. Suddenly, she felt foolish for having brought this stranger to her home. She knew practically nothing about him. Her image in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the opposite wall caught her eye. "Positively ridiculous!" she thought to herself, as she saw the way the snug housecoat hugged her hips and outlined her breasts. It occurred to her that just beyond the door was the first man ever to spend a night in the gatehouse since she had moved in.
"Chad," she called again. "Are you asleep?"
No answer.
Tentatively, she tried the doorknob. It turned in her hand. Slowly, her eyes accustomed themselves to the half-light of the room, and she focused on the figure lying outstretched on the bed. He was asleep-all but part of him. There, ramrodding majestically from under the folds of the bath towel, stood an absolutely intriguing sight. It was gleaming white, and too grotesquely oversized to be attached to the shadowed male beneath it. It was far more than an erected penis. To a shocked-and helplessly spellbound Tanya, Chad's cock was a love organ belonging to some love god.
A violent shudder racked the body of the voyeur, and she cringed at the thought of how easily she had lost control with Seymour. The phallus, brimming ripe and begging for love, drove her mad. A voice, far away, screamed that she should run away from this sight and pull the door behind her. But, then, another voice, pounding wildly in her heart, thundered at her to approach the bed for a closer look. The louder voice won.
Noiselessly, she slipped across the carpeting and stood looking at the outspread figure. His face was that of a boy's, but that was the only boy thing about him. The rest was all man-powerful chest, strong arms and legs, a rib cage that rose and fell evenly as he breathed, and that incredible phallus I It soared from under the lower edge of the towel, and Tanya could see the fullness of the two balls nestling in the space between Chad's thighs. They seemed the size of oranges.
It was the mushroom cap, crowning his proud cock, that intrigued her. Tanya doubted that her fist could fit even halfway around the monstrous swelling, but she longed to try.
Very carefully she bent across the bed and, leaning on the flat-of her hand, she formed a kiss with her lips.
For just an instant, she pressed her lips against the burgeoning crown. Then, the distant voice asserted itself. Carefully, she pushed away from the bed and turned to leave the room.
She closed the door behind her, and for half an hour paced the floor of the living room.
"Tanya, get a grip! Remember Angel. Remember your promise to yourself ... he's just a lonely man." At the end of the argument, she went to her cedar chest and pawed through the contents, until she found what she was looking for. The trunks her husband had worn on that last day at the beach before he had shipped out for Korea. She pressed the crimson elastic to her lips and laid the trunks on her dressing table stool. Then, she walked directly to Angel's bedroom door, and hearing nothing, knocked. "Wake up, sleepyhead! Supper's almost ready!"
A few minutes later, a tousle-headed Chad came into the living room. The sleepiness vanished from his eyes when he caught sight of the snug housecoat. She liked the directness of his appraisal, and turned with a swish to go into the kitchen. "Chicken thighs and tossed salad," she called. "Sound all right?"
Chad took her invitation to pour them a drink. "Just right," he replied. "That'll get me going on all eight again. Sorry I fell asleep," he apologized.
"That's okay. Walking around Manhattan wears out more than shoe leather," she laughed. And some things it doesn't wear out at all, she thought, remembering his erection.
She carried their supper to the low table by the fireplace. Casually, she eased to a cushion, and Chad sat beside her. While he had been sleeping, she had lit a fire. Now, the two sat silently, eating and watching the flames lick at the sides of the logs.
"Haven't been in a home like this in I-don't-know-how-long!" he said, leaning back to sip his drink. He was sitting, legs stretched out before him, and as Tanya looked up from her place, her glance fell on his pants. Only a slight bulge testified that an animal lay beneath the cloth, and she felt a shiver run up her spine.
"Let's take some pictures," she urged, when they had deposited the plates in the dishwasher. "Casting directors are a funny lot. They're always after especially attractive parts of the body. Not just a handsome face, or a pretty chassis. They have constant use for people with attractive features-teeth, fingers, legs." She looked critically at Chad. "Think you'd do well in all departments. Let's see what I can do."
For an hour, with a sheet for a backdrop, Tanya took conventional, full-figure shots and various head and shoulder shots. Twice during the hour, she asked Chad to freshen their drinks while she changed cameras and film.
She was aware of his eyes watching every move she made. It was apparent that he approved and, on several occasions, when she asked him to shift positions, she noticed the clear evidence of excitement at his groin. A kind of heady delirium swept over her as she sensed that she aroused this man. He did his best to conceal it, and very politely responded to her directions. It made her feel very safe with this stranger in her house. And now, strangely, she wished she didn't feel so safe.
"Now ... the specialty shots," she announced, drawing the film pack from the camera.
"How about my hands? Can they use a nine-fingered man?" he laughed. He held up his left hand and waggled the stub of a missing little finger. "However did that happen?"
"V.C.," he said matter-of-factly. "I zigged when I should have zagged, and he got off a burst that clipped me on the fingernail."
There was something about this quiet man, who had seen so much and who talked so little about himself that intrigued Tanya. "Must be other parts of you which are intact. I've an idea. Just one minute." She ran into her bedroom and returned with the bathing trunks. "Put these on and let's have a look."
Mystified at the order, Chad retreated to Angel's room to change. A few minutes later, he stood in the doorway. "Say, I could use a few sizes larger. This all you have?"
Tanya repressed a giggle at the sight of the nearly naked man. The trunks that had been her husband's were little more than rivieras on Chad's body. She saw nothing to giggle about, however, in the massive congestion of quiescent sex at his crotch. She wondered how he had managed to fit his private parts into the suit, which now ballooned under the aggregation beneath the elastic.
"'Fraid it'll have to do," she said solemnly as he approached her. "Let me look you over."
She circled him in silence, taking in the narrow-hipped, broad-chested giant as though she saw such male beauty every day. "Let's get some shots of your neck and arms and legs. You'd be great for any beach commercial."
Carefully, she posed him for the specific parts of the body that she wanted. At first all went well. She took shots of his upper body, arms, clenched fist, index finger. Then she shifted the camera lens to focus on his lower torso and legs.
As she peered through the finder to focus on his legs, she saw the growth begin. At first, it bent and curled, but just for a brief instant. Then, before either of them could move, Chad's phallus went rock rigid, stretching the elastic at a wild angle away from his waist. She heard his helpless groan, and, at the same moment, saw that swollen cock rocket through the upper edge of the trunks.
An oath burst from the man's lips as he swung his body away from Tanya. He was still seated on the stool, but now he was bent at the middle, as though doubled in pain.
"Chad, are you all right?" She choked the words, hoping they would suggest that she hadn't seen what both of them knew she had.
"All right? I'm damn well not all right, and Lord help me, Tanya ... I ... I just can't help myself!"
Tanya stared at the straining muscles of his back and saw his elbows pump frantically. He seemed to be grabbing at himself. Then, back still toward her, he stood away from the stool. "It's ... it's you, Tanya! So help me ... I ... I've got to have you ... NOW!"
He turned slowly and deliberately. Tanya's hand flew to her mouth as she saw what he had done with the front of the trunks. They were pulled low, beneath his crammed testicles, and, as he swung toward her, the whole of his cock stood up from his groin like a being apart from the man. Just beneath his balls, the crimson line of the trunks appeared like the launching pad of a Saturn rocket.
Chad stood directly before her. He brushed aside the fingers which still covered her mouth. His bps were on hers, demanding and gentle at the same instant, and, with that sign of love, Tanya felt her body go buttery with desire. Hard now, against her belly, was his cock. His fingers reached for the zipper lock at the yoke of her gown. The zipper pressed downward, past the deep cleavage of her breasts, across her midriff, and down the flat of her belly. Wild, stabbing electric shocks went through her body as the fingers pressed across her pubes. It was as though the parting of that gown was the ripping to shreds of a well-meant pledge to a long love.
As the gown fluttered from her shoulders to the floor, Tanya went absolutely wild. She was seized with an uncontrollable coital frenzy to take and be taken, to violate and to be violated. She wanted to seize this man who had come into her life ... to fondle him, kiss him, to abuse him ... punish him for seducing her. She wanted to command him and to be commanded by him ... to nibble and to suck his earlobes, his nipples, his fingers and, most wantonly of all, to suck and chew his pulsating cock and force the juices of life to spew from that mighty rod into her mouth and into her starved cunt.
With an inarticulate cry, Tanya tore herself from the arms of the man who had unmasked her deep desire and sank, trembling, to her knees on the carpet.
Chad watched in astonishment at the change in this infinitely desirable woman. It was as though she was no longer in command of her own body, but subject to the capricious will of the gods of all voluptuaries. She writhed and arched far back, her buttocks resting on her heels. As she contorted her body, her full, tempestuous breasts heaved like twin hillocks, their turgid nipples jutting in hunger. Graceful arms wove a pattern of sensual invitation that curved above her head, then moved down the dazzling contours of her front, and bent to the outline of her wide hips, coming at last to the focal point of her heat.
The man gaped openly at the splendor of Tanya. The cleft was a darkish pink line that seemed to palpitate under his hot gaze, and he knew, in that moment, that he would gladly die if he could only have this woman. Yes, if only one time. He saw the lovely fingers toying at the portal of her vagina, stroking softly and suggestively the prominent rise of her mound. Then, as his glance went to her face, and he saw the passion and the pleading in those wide, dark eyes, now frantic with need, he fell to his knees beside her.
"You are beautiful!" he whispered, as he bent across her body. Never had he seen a woman so perfectly proportioned, so jungle-like and so heavenly in the same instant.
Tenderly, he kissed the tears that studded the corners of her eyes, and then his lips went to the dark fringe of hair that framed the beauty of her face. Silently, his lips traced the outline of her face, and he nuzzled through the locks of hair to seek the child-flesh of her ears.
Tanya's fingers cupped the back of his head as Chad moved to love her breasts, nibbling lightly, then sucking like a weaning child at the nipples. Suddenly, the lips were gone from the heaving mounds and in their place were dancing fingers, bedeviling and strumming the stiffened cones. Now she felt his warm breath moving steadily across the hollow of her hip, and the flatness of her stomach, finally resting in the dark down at her lower belly. A pelvic thrust spelled out her need to the man's impertinent lips. He straddled her leg, and his thighs gripped her calf, grinding the softness of his balls and the erectness of his cock against the calf muscle.
Moist and maddening lips were nudging at the dainty flesh that guarded her quim. His tongue darted and pushed its way, impudently probing for the delirium trigger. A low moan of intense need escaped from Tanya's lips and left no doubt that she was beside herself. His spear was driving deeper, ever deeper, and now it was battering at her clitoris and inflaming every responsive nerve that laced through its turgidity.
"Chad ... Chad! I ... you're going to make ... I don't want to ... yet!"
With a great roar flooding through her head, Tanya gave herself over to the sweep of orgasm. It possessed, wrenched, tore her with merciless spasms. No more than a second had passed beyond the crest of her climax, when she became a seething, cock-'crazed witch, frantic to taste the richness of the man's own cock. With a cry, she tore herself from the lips that still nursed at her clitoris, and swung toward the man's lower body.
"I've got to have it ... got to ... got to!" She dove at the velvety cock which she had kissed momentarily as he had lain on the bed. Now it was hers to command. A droplet of semen dotted the eye that had seemed to wink at her earlier, and she tongued its tart flavor into her mouth. Chad seemed suddenly helpless, and ready to be victimized in any fashion his temptress desired. He sagged back on his elbows to watch, his buttocks thrusting to force the entirety of his equipment out and away from his body.
She stroked the foreskin and forced it back until it merged with the distended skin below. The crown went dark and satiny with the strain, and . its lower edge seemed to bulge more prominently than before. Sadistically, Tanya licked at the crazed underside of the ledge, until her lips were again at the tip.
She stared at his stricken face and ovaled her lips as a sign of her intention.
"Take me, Tanya ... oh, take me!"
"How? How shall I take you?"
"Suck! You must ... suck me, woman!"
She buried the great lollipop between her lips and quivered to the taste of the meat. Up and down his shaft her gripping fingers ran, accompanying lifer suck madness. Then, in, and around, the cock and balls her fingers crept, toying and squeezing lightly at his balls as the moment neared.
"I'm going to ... Tanya ... I've gotta! ... I ... Look out! ... Look ooouuut!"
His semen tore free and spattered in a hot rage against the roof of her mouth. The man was unstoppable! Hips heaving, belly tensing, then relaxing, thighs quivering, he sprayed ferociously. It was wild, and Tanya took it all, mixing the semen with the hot flow of her own saliva as it continued to shoot.
As suddenly as it came, it stopped. Tanya let her head sag softly to his midriff as she continued to hold the swollen penis in its mouth trap. Then she released the still-swollen tool and rolled to her side to look at the man in awe. "It's still the way it was! Didn't it come all the way?"
"Tanya ... darling Tanya! It came all the way! It's just that it's been so long ... Lord! So long!" She felt his hands on her shoulders, twisting her body and forcing her back on the carpet. What she had just buried between her hips, she now desperately needed spearing into her cunt. The soft pressure of the cap was forcing through the flanges ... bursting into her ... cramming and stuffing her with more than she believed she could possibly take. Still the muscle pressed its way. More and morel
"Chad! CHAD!" She climaxed, as the friction building cock raced from the frenzied clitty along the pulsating walls of her vagina. The madman had impaled her fully when, all at once, he stopped the spearing and held her motionless.
"Do it!" she begged. "You must ... oh, fuck me! Take me! Kill me!" Again, she climaxed helplessly, as the prick filled every comer of her. It was that climax that tore the tantalizing reserve from him. With a bull-like cry of maniacal need, Chad sledge hammered into Tanya's body. In seconds, the surge was on him, and the searing of his semen was pummeling against her firewall. For a brief instant-or was it minutes?-his warm and enveloping frame seemed to fully embrace Tanya as he fought for breath. Then, he had to have her again.
So the night went. Few words were exchanged between the lovers. They seemed as one body. Words were superfluous, even when, from time to time, they disengaged and fell back, exhausted and spent, needing sleep and yet unable to tolerate the thought of being apart.
The reality of morning light found them still together on the carpet, between the camera's tripod and the kitchen stool. Tanya woke first. She looked at the naked form of the man lying at her side, and her glance went to the limpness at his middle. Tenderly, she bent across the masculine body and pressed a light kiss to the bent, collapsed penis. She leaned back to look. An almost immediate response began to show. The stem elongated and stretched along the crevice of his thighs, then lifted in a trembling separation from his legs. Tanya moistened a forefinger and toyed along the top, slipped the fingertip just beneath the foreskin, and rubbed lightly, to and fro.
Chad's response was immediate. His penis ballooned savagely, thick and ready. Phallic lust surged through the woman, and, an instant later, she was astride his body, guiding the instrument between her legs. She sank down on the shaft, the lubricant of her desire opening the way to the mighty plank, and, only when his cock was nearly buried from sight, did Chad fully awaken.
Above him, was a golden-skinned goddess, dark hair tumbling about her shoulders, breasts standing out in rich fullness, head thrown back, as she stared at the ceiling and took the giant cock once again. It was over almost before it was fully begun. The clasping muscles of Tanya's sidewalls clutched for his gift. She took his charge and returned his love with her own uncontrolled orgasm.
The fact that day had come, meant nothing to either of them as they lay in the afterglow, staring deeply into each other's eyes.
"You know what you've done, don't you?" he growled a moment later.
She nodded happily. "Do you?"
"Yes, damn you! Now that it's happened, I never could let you go, you wild witch!" He groaned as the facts of life dawned painfully around him. "The devil is ... it can't be!"
A look of sudden inspiration swept Tanya's face. "Chad, I've an absolutely crazy thought, but it might work!"
"What?" His voice was flat-toned with despair. "Downstairs. That huge garage. Why couldn't I tell Mr. Tycott that, if he'd be willing to put a small apartment through two of those big old stalls, he could have a third hand for part-time help around the place? I know he's about desperate and I'll bet he'd do it."
Chad thought about the notion. "He'd suspect, wouldn't he?"
"I don't think he'd care."
"What about Angel?"
"She'll love you to death! She's always after me to at least have a fling once in a while."
"What the hell does she know about flings?" He demanded.
"You'd be astounded, Chad. Sometimes she doesn't even seem like my own daughter. Says these wild things about the sex revolution, and how we old prudes fuss too much about propriety and such." Tanya shook her pretty head as she reached for her gown. "I'm not even sure you'd be safe around her."
"I'm not safe around you, baby!" He made a grab for a leg disappearing from sight into the crepe gown, and Tanya squealed as she danced away toward the phone.
"This is a first for me," she laughed, as she dialed her office number. "I've never called in sick before, so I think I've earned it."
She watched as the naked animal on the rug stretched in luxurious indolence. A second animal, that was weirdly attached to his lower body, was stretching, too. He stood, and moved toward the wall phone, then slipped directly behind her, as the voice came over the phone.
"Clark Advertising. May I help you?"
She slapped furiously at the hand behind her. "Marie?" she said, somewhat breathlessly. A plank was insinuating its way into the parting of her thighs.
"Yes," the voice from Manhattan continued. "That you, Tanya? You sound different."
"Oh, Marie, I am different! I seem to have this awful bug and I'm all shot down today. Can you tell the boss for me?" The awful bug was rippling, like corrugated steel, against her inner thigh muscles. "Gotta go now, Marie. See you tomorrow, I'm sure. Bye-bye." A hand circled her waist and grabbed gently at her superstructure as she replaced the phone on the hook.
"Ma'am," Chad said, "there is this awful bug goin' around the neighborhood. Don't you think we ought to get you to bed before you get a powerful infection?"
"You are an insatiable devil!" Tanya giggled as she dragged the man by his protruding handle toward her room.
CHAPTER TWO
Another insatiable man was, at the same moment, preoccupied with his own sex play in the mansion on the hill above the gatehouse. The focus of Jonas Tycott's attention was Yvette, a French transplant, who served at the manor house as maid, governess and object of the master's somewhat bizarre practices.
With the exception of the gardener, Hans, who doubled as part-time chauffeur, Jonas kept no other full-time staff on the estate grounds. Not that he had to economize. As the sole surviving adult member of the wealthy Tycott family, he was the master of millions, left to him by other, more creative, entrepreneurs of the clan.
But, for all his wealth, Jonas was a troubled man, and the trouble was with himself. A widower in his late thirties, and plagued by the suspicion that all female attentions directed his way were bred of avarice, he had not remarried.
It was hardly because he had been in mourning for those years. Having borne him two children, his wife had grown frigid and disinterested in sex. Left to his own devices while she was alive, Jonas retreated to his library for the long hours of the evening. There he found some measure of self-satisfaction in his private collection of erotic literature, and in watching the filmed antics of playing couples on a large screen, concealed in daytime behind a walnut-paneled wall. Night after night, he sat in the richly appointed luxury of the lonely room, pulling frenziedly at his aroused cock, as he watched the love play of others.
He had often entertained the thought of remarriage. If only Yvette had come from a respectable family, he mourned. She was a born temptress and, watching her with his children, it was obvious to the man that she was a natural mother as well. A beautiful combination to be found in any wife-unless she had the background of Yvette. Background was very important in Wilton.
Jonas had found her two years earlier, barely making a living in a Paris underground theater, where she had been performing nightly in a spectacle that had little to do with theater. The unadvertised exhibition was staged for audiences, formed mostly of wealthy tourists, solicited by the pimps of France. Billed as "The Slave of De Sade," the action on stage made Broadway nudity seem little more than a mixed physical exam. Virile males, with minds more on the maid than on the script, violated Yvette in every conceivable fashion throughout the three-hour performance.
By virtue of his five-thousand-franc contribution at the ticket office, Jonas had the best seat in the house, a private box of one seat, surrounded on three sides by walls that faced the stage. He returned to that box for five successive nights, and sat playing with his constantly aroused cock as he watched the sufferings of Yvette. Unlike the Broadway scene, the actors found the slave of De Sade inflamingly seductive, both in, and out, of her slave's costume.
Time and again during the performance, horny overexcited males worked their will on the slave. Within moments of curtain time, the men had shredded her tiny mini-dress with its covering of see-through rags. Repeatedly, they violated the girl's luscious body, and in every case it appeared to be rape-a brash, brutal, unapologetic assault on Yvette's buttermilk flesh that overcame her every attempt to resist.
From his first evening of attendance, Jonas was utterly overwhelmed by the carnality on stage.
Captivated by the curvaceous beauty, he knew that his assortment of erotica would never suffice after seeing Yvette. He had to find a way to bring her to Connecticut.
On the second evening of his presence in the theater, Yvette spotted him in the private box, masturbating himself through the orgiastic evening. His effort to hide his excitement behind his playbill amused her. Her amusement turned to intrigue when, embroiled in a near-maniacal climax, Tycott exposed the size of his arousal. The man was beautifully endowed in muscle, as well as means.
It was Yvette's face, as much as her body, that drove Jonas mad as he watched the drama unfold. Her jet-black hair, shaped in a neat, pageboy trim, framed her delicately chiseled face. Wide, dark, and desperate eyes stared, as though appealing to him for help. Her nude vulnerability simply whetted his appetite for more male violence. She was petite, and her cameo-skinned body, high-breasted and full-hipped, writhed in agony under the repeated sexual violence with which the men took her. With shrieks of pretended terror, Yvette submitted to the phallic attacks of the lusty men and seemingly tireless boys.
Each night, a fresh contingent of males, their sexual energies in high gear, played the roles of the torturers. But always the "slave of De Sade" was Yvette.
The use of the boys, youths in their mid-teens, intrigued Jonas. They were in training for better roles to come, and, as an audience-diverting interlude, they were turned loose onstage to vent their youthful ardors on the hapless slave. Squealing delightedly at finding the slave girl at her chores, the quartet of young hot bloods would seize and bind her to the bedpost. They would then dance excitedly around her, pounding mercilessly at her thighs and belly with their eager cocks. Sobbing and protesting, Yvette would sink to her knees, and the flagellation would intensify as the pricks belted her face and breasts. Shortly, the spectators would see the frenzied cannonades of young semen shower her contorting body.
Then, more mature males seized the girl to gratify themselves in wilder ways. Some slammed her across the bed and took her conventionally. Others, jackknifed her savagely as she bent, rutting deep into her anal opening. Still others, looped a rope across the bedroom chandelier and dragged her upward, tied at the ankles, until her face was at hip level. There, they drove their cocks between her lips and forced her to perform fellatio.
Always, Yvette appeared the helpless doll, even though, at the height of each male climax, the convulsions of her hips and the shuddering of her body, announced to the spectators that she herself was experiencing one climax after another. Then, immediately after her "attacker" of the moment had disengaged, the slave girl would, quite nonchalantly, return to her duties, just as though nothing whatever had happened. The madness of the cock-fever, followed by the mundaneness of household chores, was itself an inflaming contrast.
On the night before he was scheduled to return to the States, Tycott made his move. He had to have Yvette as his real-life maid on his estate! Years of sexual frustration were pounding against his pants leg when he came to her dressing room. He had paved the way with nightly bouquets and tender notes of concern for her well-being. To Yvette, Jonas Tycott represented the chance she'd longed for since childhood-a way to live in the United States.
The instant he took the seat she indicated next to her dresser, Yvette noticed delightedly that his pants were tented at right angles to his thigh. She smiled at the awkward modesty with which he drew his coat across his lap to conceal the evidence of his arousal.
They talked very matter-of-factly about his job offer. After describing his home and his children, Tycott said, "I'll give you double what they pay you here."
Yvette studied her face in the dresser mirror and pretended to be preoccupied with the eyeliner, unaware of the slight movement of the man's arm under the topper. "Would these be all my duties, oui?"
His arm began moving with more intensity, and she felt his stare on the stiffened points of her nipples. Her only clothing was a nearly transparent gown she had drawn very hastily across her shoulders. Very deliberately, she took the eyeliner brush and teased at the centers of her breasts. "It makes them darker," she said. "They please you, oui?" She thrust her shoulders back, forcing her boobs to jut out at the man.
Jonas coughed and his reply was a strangled, "Yes ... uh ... they're very pretty."
Yvette felt an irrepressible desire to devil this man, who, for all his years, was much like the boys onstage, who found their delights in self play. She handed the eyeliner brush to Tycott. "Here ... you put on the black for me." She leaned toward him and cupped her palms under the silken-skinned globes, forcing the dark centers toward him. "First you must moisten them."
"How?" croaked Jonas.
"With the lips, oui?" She puckered to illustrate, and Jonas bent thirstily to do as she had indicated, seeing nothing ridiculous in her suggestion. "Ooohhh ... please ... it is too exciting! It makes me thirsty, too." She dropped to her knees and snatched the coat from his lap. Her eyes went wide with wonder when she saw his fist clamped around his long penis. He had been frigging himself as he nursed at her nipple.
"It is so biiiggg!" She slapped at the man's clenched hand. "He is for me, no? I give the big suck-off for my new friend, no?"
"Oh, please ... yes!" Jonas rose to his feet and thrust his hips to make his cock jab at her lovely face.
She tongued happily along the great length of bone-hard flesh, cooing about its sweet taste and its frightening proportions. For a tantalizing instant, she pressed the knob of the man's erection between her lips and licked the base of the protruding ledge.
She popped the red crown from her mouth and stared at the distraught man.
"Would this be ... how you Americans call it? ... fringe benefits?"
Tycott was beside himself. "Yes! Yes!"
"I like this fringe benefit," Yvette murmured, fondling his hard-on. "I would make you do naughty things to me .,. like they do on the stage. I would be your slave, yes, oui?"
Jonas grabbed frantically for a handful of the black hair and dragged her head back to force her face upward. His hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he whacked it harshly against her cheeks.
"Slave? Yes, slave to this, too, my dear!"
"Oui! I do it. Only beat me, make me cry out from hurt! I need the pain. It makes me come very hard!"
The color of pale cameo in her face became bright scarlet, her eyes glittered with sex heat. A weird convulsion began to seize the girl, and Jonas marveled as she seemed about to climax merely from the pummeling of his penis.
"Ahhhh, oh, it happens! It...."
Her body was a sea of motion as she dragged Jonas to the floor and bent to suck the man's tool. His fullness seemed to stuff the pretty mouth, and he wondered how she took so much of him. Then he was overwhelmed with the sucking, munching lips that dragged at the reservoir far below, and, with a cry, he ejaculated into the woman.
It was not until Jonas had Yvette settled snugly in his Wilton manor, that he felt the full impact of her strange, desires and the fixed habits, which his own years of autoeroticism had built in himself.
To the neighbors and friends, his new maid/governess, conventionally clad in knee-length black, was a pleasant addition to the somber manor house. But, when the children were at school or in bed, and Jonas and Yvette were alone around the great house, strange practices evolved.
It was standard procedure that, when they were alone, Yvette would hurry to her quarters on the top floor of the manor and change to the miniskirted uniform in which Jonas had first dressed her on returning from the Continent. If callers should happen by, Jonas would answer the door. The days of her first months in his employ were a cat-and-mouse game, with Yvette's employer happily engaged in voyeurism as she worked around the house. She liked to feel his eyes watching her as she worked, peeking at her from some unseen place, behind a drape, or through the crack of a door.
When, after hours of surreptitious spying, he would burst from cover to take her as she bent to make a bed, or leaned to dust a coffee table, Yvette's passions were flaming. Always, she had to be abused before she would submit. It was just as she had declared in her French dressing room. She had a far more intense vaginal response when pain accompanied the pleasure.
Hans Mueller, the not-so-bright, but handsomely muscled gardener and chauffeur, soon became a happy addition to the manor house antics. Yvette pretended that her attraction to Hans, if discovered, would meet with violent disapproval from their master. She dallied the twenty-five-year-old, inflamed his appetite to possess her, and, when she was ready, allowed him to "rape" her one night on the kitchen table. The moment was chosen when she was certain that Jonas was watching.
The gardener had been working late, mowing the great lawn in front of the manor. In the warmth of the spring evening, he was wearing shorts and no shirt, and, for a time, Yvette watched his rippling muscles as he guided the power mower up the slope, then down again. Clearly discernible as the man moved across the greensward, was the considerable bulge made by the sexual equipment dormant in his shorts.
Jonas watched Yvette's performance from his hiding place at the library window. He was startled when he first saw her crossing the lawn with the ice water for Hans. It was the first time she had ventured outside in her mini-uniform, and, by Hans' expression, it was the first time he had seen the girl dressed in the daring costume.
Yvette stooped casually to examine "the mowing machine", as Hans sipped at his drink and studied the torrid contours of the female bending nonchalantly before him. Almost immediately, the bulge in his shorts became a bold swelling, noticed by Yvette, and also by Jonas from his viewing point.
"I will be drying dishes in the kitchen, if you want more," she said, rasping her voice over the sound of the mower as she left the man.
Jonas wasn't the least bit surprised that, within fifteen minutes, the mower coughed to a stop and the gardener headed around the comer to the manor. His efforts to concentrate on the lawn had been unsuccessful, as the pole ramming under the cloth of his shorts testified.
Jonas hurried to the kitchen stairwell to watch what he knew was inevitable.
When Hans walked into the kitchen, Yvette was struggling to lift a meat platter to its place on the top shelf of the butler's pantry.
"Let me get that for you, miss!" Hans exclaimed, hurrying to the side of the delightful figure, as she strained to reach high above her head.
Jonas smiled to himself as Yvette gratefully accepted the offer for help, then "oohed" admiringly at the powerfully muscled body when Hans stretched to replace the platter. The gardener's shorts were stretched grotesquely under the pressure of his phallus. Self-conscious at her open admiration of his body, he tried to twist and conceal his excitement.
"Be careful, Hans! You'll drop it." Yvette's hands flew to his hips as though to steady him.
With a grunt he put the platter in place, then stood motionless, staring at the shelving for a moment. Then his fists crashed down on the pantry counter and he swung on the girl. Her hands dropped from his hips. From the hidden viewing point in the stairwell, Tycott watched her turn her back on Hans and stroll sensuously back into the kitchen.
She stood at the sink, letting the cold water run across her fingers. "I get you another drink, Hans. It is hot outside, oui?"
The mans hand was ripping frantically at the zipper on his shorts as he strode toward the sink, and, just as he reached the cute backside, he tore his cock from cover, stopped in his tracks, and stood with his arms akimbo and his legs spread apart. A senseless kind of cackle spilled from his lips and, at the sound, Yvette turned and saw his condition.
"Oh, Hans!" She pressed back against the sink, arms flung out to grip the edge of the counter, breasts heaving animatedly against the nylon tricot bodice, her voice a shrill mixture of French and English, as she stared wide-eyed at the trembling prick.
"Hans, no! The master! Monsieur Tycott will kill us!"
Hans giggled idiotically as he closed the gap between their bodies and placed two powerful hands across Yvette's thrusting boobs.
"Good! I want!"
He seized the cloth at the V neck and, with an almost effortless pull, split the mini-dress from top to bottom. The hidden Tycott gasped at the sight of his maid, suddenly nude, except for her black lace panties, obviously helpless to the whims of the hungry male. It was like being back in the French theater.
"Gimme! Gimme!" Hans cried, half dragging her to the table in the center of the room. Before the two were at the table, the gardener had unbuckled his shorts and let them tumble down across his legs as he struggled with the girl.
"Hans ... Hans! No ... no!"
Yvette was spread flat across the table, her back arched wildly as though she was trying to escape. But her now hopelessly inflamed lover held her immobilized, pressing his palm firmly down on the black lace that covered her mound.
"Hans! Monsieur Tycott ... he will kill us!"
"Don't care! Don't care, ya hear?"
Behind the stairs' door, Tycott got the message. Yvette was baiting him. Baiting him with the man who was about to pour himself into her. Noiselessly, he hurried up the stairs to Yvette's room, pawed breathlessly through her closet until he found the whip she'd brought from the performance in Paris. With a murmur of satisfaction, he fingered the light, thin strands, harmless really, and then tore down the steps to the kitchen.
When he burst through the door, Hans was already buried deep in Yvette's body, plowing mercilessly at the little figure beneath him. The master of the house stared at the shapely legs wrapped tightly around the man's waist. It was obvious that, what had begun as rape, was now a welcomed ravaging. He watched for a moment before he struck out at the couple. Yvette's hips were grinding their response to Hans' invasion of her ready cunt.
"You terrible people!" squealed Jonas.
He aimed the first blow of the whip squarely across Hans' buttocks, just as they were contracted to deliver another piston thrust of his cock.
With a bellow of surprise, the gardener rolled to his side, still locked with Yvette, and strained a terrified face to see his attacker.
"Hans! Hans!" Yvette's cry was hysterical. "You must do it! Do it!"
She forced her tiny hands against the man's chest and pressed the top of her body away from him to let Jonas see the root of the penis, almost fully buried through the soft flesh of her nether lips.
"You can't! You can't!" Jonas howled. "You're mine ... mine!"
He flailed wildly with the whip, at the same time dragging his own prick from cover to jerk frantically at it as he watched Hans' pull partially from the girl's cunt. The excitement of the new game suddenly commandeered the master of Tycott manor. He was a mixture of cuckold, voyeur, torturer, and, above all, the master of these two. "Do it then! Do it, damn you!"
His whip licked with light, stinging blows across the locked bodies. He was barely conscious of the startled, staring faces watching him as he masturbated himself with one hand and swung the whip with the other.
"Monsieur! Oh, I cannot help myself ... I ... need this man...."
Yvette's body was racked with the savage spasms of her orgasm, and, at that instant, Tycott ejaculated at the two. The gardener climaxed with low moans of delight as he felt Yvette's convulsions grip his in-driven spear.
That night in the kitchen opened a new era in the mansion atop the hill. The interplay of the three hinged on the school and bedtime schedules of Jonas' children, Jonas II and Jennifer. Once the two were away from home, or tucked in bed, the master and the gardener vied with each other in their quest for the maid, while Yvette, forever in the role of the helpless innocent, whetted their sexual fevers with tireless imagination.
Very early in her first year at Tycott Manor, Yvette had discovered the role of the two in the gatehouse. She returned early one evening to find both Tanya and Angel overseeing the frolic of the children in the pool. She watched the mother and daughter from a secluded point. She studied the bikini-clad voluptuousness of the two as they lounged on the deep pile carpeting off the edge of the pool tile. Her master had mentioned that one of the two ladies who lived in the gatehouse would be overseeing the children until her return from the city. Never having seen either Tanya or Angel, Yvette had assumed that the "two ladies" were probably elderly objects of Jonas' benevolence. Now, she gaped in open astonishment at the seductive succulence of the bodies at the poolside.
Her mind flew to the next obvious question: Where was Monsieur Tycott? Quietly, Yvette tiptoed around the silent manor, peeking into the rooms with windows looking down on the pool. Then she found him, standing in the shadow of a drape at the window on the second floor, gently fingering the hard cock gaping from his pants.
Quickly, she withdrew and closed the door, her brief intrusion unnoticed by Tycott. She disrobed in the hall, stood listening for a moment at the door, then pushed into the room.
"Monsieur! Is Yvette not enough?"
Startled and embarrassed, Jonas tried to jam his cock into his pants as he turned toward her. "More than enough, my dear. Come here!"
He watched the nude weave sensuously across the room, and, when she was at his side, he threw her against the window frame and took her, sledge hammering his prick thrusts into her soft cunt. This way, he could obtain a view of the bikini-clad mother and daughter. The sound of the grappling twosome thudded very lightly when their mingled bodies banged against the frame of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a brief instant, Tanya, attracted by the noise, caught a glimpse of frantically pumping flesh.
"Mommy?" Angel asked, after a moment of silent listening. "Would you mind if I say something very disrespectful?" She waited a moment for the answer.
"I might."
"Then I don't care!" Angel pushed to rest on her elbows and gaze at the four windows that looked out on the pool. "Someone in that house is making it with someone else."
"Angel!" Tanya pretended shock. "You know Mr. Tycott lives alone."
"Did, you mean," Angel giggled. "You're forgetting the cutie he brought back from France. Are you sure it's her day off?"
Tanya tried to sound indignant. "That's no way to talk about Mr. Tycott," she protested in a hoarse whisper. "Yvette is a nice girl and I'm sure everything is proper."
There was the faint sound of intensified pounding against an upper floor, and Angel looked knowingly at her mother. "I don't care what you say ... he's doing it with someone right this minute!" She crossed her hands across her halter and squeezed her full breasts.
Tanya glanced at her daughter and exclaimed, "Angel, behave yourself!"
"I try. Honestly I do! But that sound always bothers me so much. Look!" She dropped her hands from her boobs and pressed down against her elbows to arch her back. Two points pressed rigidly through the light material.
"Angel! Someone might see."
The girl looked at the two children playing in the pool. "They're too young." She jerked her blonde head impudently in the direction of the sounds. "And he's too busy. Relax. I'll bet you could make it with Mr. Tycott, if you halfway tried. I've seen his eyes when he comes by our apartment."
Just then, Angel's earlier remark drifted back to Tanya. "Angel Hydom, what do you mean, 'that sound always bothers me?' Have you been...? Do you...?" Her voice trailed off and she stared at the girl.
Angel looked saucily at her mother from under lowered lashes. "Now, Mommy, I think about it a lot. Is that so shocking? I'm just a normal, healthy girl, and boys are fun."
Tanya persisted. "But, have you...?"
Angel giggled. "You're a dear, an old-fashioned dear." She leaned to stroke her mother's arm and tried to change the target of inquiry. "Mommy, you're so pretty. Can I ask you something personal? We're friends ..
Tanya nodded silently.
"Have you ever made love to a man since Daddy was killed? I mean ... it's such a waste for someone like you not to."
"Maybe I'm just waiting for the right one." She shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh, it doesn't have to be the right one nowadays. That's prehistoric talk. You can have fun, and no one has to get hurt at all."
"What do you call fun?"
The girl was silent for a moment. "Well, gee, maybe this is going to shock you ... you know how boys are. They really don't always try to go all the way. And they're so cute when you help them out."
"Help them out?"
"Oh, you know ... if I like a boy, and I see he's all bothered up when we're out, I help him relieve himself. Maybe it sounds awful to you, but it even helps me."
"What do you do?"
Angel shivered. "Gee, I'm glad we can talk like this. Other girls can't even talk to their moms at all. Well, I let them touch around here and there." Her fingers crept across her panties and toyed lightly at the quim edge. "If he doesn't get smart, I let him doodle with my breasts so's he can see I'm excited, too."
"Then what?"
"Well, if he's shy, I just open up his pants for him and pull it out in the open."
Tanya was shocked at her daughter's candidness. "Does he ... I mean...."
"You mean, play with himself? Not if I can help it!" Angel's eyes were gleaming mischievously. "I love to do it. A big penis is ... ohhh, so hard and soft at the same time. I sometimes think I'm a sex nut, the way it makes me feel when I jerk off a boy."
"Do they ever want to go farther?"
"Of course! But most of them don't know how. I can usually settle them down with the frig, and then they help me. I sure need it, once I see them shoot."
"How far do you let them go?"
"Just doodlin' with their fingers. I come awful fast."
"Wherever did you learn these things?" Tanya was a study in perplexity.
"Oh, girl talk, you know."
Tanya found that hard to believe, but let it go for the moment. "You're playing a very dangerous game, young lady!" she said, as she surveyed the torrid body at her side. "Some day, one of your dates is going to forget that he's shy."
Angel bounded excitedly to her knees and her eyes sparkled with deviltry as she looked at her mother. "One did! Just last weekend. Remember Arnioe Taylor, the footballer who picked me up last Friday night?"
Tanya nodded.
"Well, he shot two loads in my hankie before he even began to quiet down, and when he put his fingers inside me, he got all excited again. Tried to shove me down on the seat and go all the way. But I took care of that!"
"How?"
"I wriggled real fast and grabbed his cock ... oh, gosh! Cock is a nice word though, isn't it? Gee, I'm so glad we can talk like friends! I just dove down on his big red top and Frenched him. Ummm ... Mommy, did you ever taste a man when he comes? Eeowww! I liked it so much that I kept sucking till he went all soft in my mouth." Tanya, who had propped herself to her elbows to listen in amazement, now stood and strolled silently to the edge of the pool. She knew the girl had been fitted for protection. Dr. Smartens had told her that when she discovered Angels' office call on the bill some months earlier.
"She said she had your permission," the physician defended himself sheepishly when Tanya inquired. "I really thought it a good idea that you wanted her to have protection against pregnancy ... with her looks and all."
"You should have asked me! She's a nice girl and doesn't need protection!" Tanya stormed.
But when Angel returned that night, Tanya had kept silent. Her daughter was all she had, and, in spite of Angel's lie to the doctor, Tanya chose to keep the peace and watch developments.
Now, months later, with Angel herself pushing the conversation to sex, it seemed a good time to ask. She turned to look at the girl, who was watching for her mother's reaction to her shocking disclosures about boy play. It was Tanya's tarn to shock.
"When do you use your protection?" she asked.
The low-keyed note of the question caught Angel unprepared. "That dirty old man told you!" she spluttered.
Tanya shook her head. "Huh-uh! I just read my bills, that's all. I called to check on your office call, and he told me. If you'd asked, I would have agreed."
Angel leaped to her feet and hugged Tanya. "Oh, Mommy, you're the greatest! Honestly, I don't know what got into me. All the others said they had one. Like pierced ears a few years ago."
"This is a little different than pierced ears, Angel!"
At that moment, Jonas Tycott appeared at the door leading to the pool terrace. In spite of herself, Tanya was curious. Who else could it have been at that upper window? She studied the man as he approached them. He looked very suave and composed in his plaid smoking jacket, she thought. Hardly interested in romping with a maid. Still, she remembered how little she had seen of the world of men in nearly a decade.
"I'll take care of the children tonight," he announced as he approached. "Come on out, Jonas ... Jenny. Bedtime."
Groans and pleas for an extension sounded from the pool.
Shortly after, Tanya and Angel were walking down the gravel path from the manor to the gatehouse. Out of earshot of the big house, Angel could stand it no longer.
"I say he's just too cool!" she exclaimed. "When did Mr. Tycott ever offer to put his children to bed before?"
"Now, Angel," Tanya admonished. "I think you're just being catty."
For the rest of the walk to their apartment, Tanya was silent. What Angel hadn't noticed, she had. As Jonas Tycott came near them at the poolside, a circle of powder was evident below his jacket, at the crotch of his pants.
In the big house, Yvette was hurriedly bedding the children. The image of the two scantily clad females, whose delectable bodies were an obvious attraction to her master, kept dancing in her mind's eye.
"Why you don't play with them?" she asked openly, when she brought his evening bucket of ice cubes to the library, after tucking the children in for the night. She smiled sensually.
Tycott was comfortably buried in the leathered depths of his lounger. "That is not your affair." He said the words with icy civility and the maid knew she was not to pry farther.
The master of the house had often wondered that same thing himself. He knew every fabulous contour of Tanya's body. She had lived in the gatehouse for years before his fling in France had culminated in his bringing Yvette to the estate. But several times weekly, during these lonely years before Yvette, the lord of the manor had taken a nighttime stroll, down the slope toward the gatehouse, to sit in the darkness and watch Tanya move about her living room. He'd been the unseen witness to some of her photographic sessions with Angel, and, with each budding year, his heat had risen as much for the daughter, as for the mother.
Tanya came from good Midwestern stock, he mused. Even though her present circumstances were near poverty level by Connecticut standards, her family had been highly regarded. It was just his damnable fear of all female motivation, he told himself time and again. Tanya never had shown the slightest interest in either Tycott, or his means, and it was that disinterest that fanned his own fervor for the woman. Yvette's arrival had put Jonas' hillside voyeurism from his mind and, for a while at least, almost quieted his interest in the statuesque lovely in the gatehouse-and her daughter. But not quite.
Just before Yvette's surprise arrival, while he stood watching Tanya and Angel from the upstairs window, Jonas had felt the surge of fresh lust for them both. Alternately, he had studied their bikini beauty, the fabulous breasts of each, the graceful curve of arms, the rounded perfection of thighs and, most intently, the lovely mounds at the meeting place of their thighs. He noticed that Angel's hillock, snugly outlined in tight panties, was nearly as pronounced as Tanya's.
"What madness!" he had breathed aloud, "to leap from one cute twat to the other, cramming those gorgeous holes with my wild prick!" At that instant, Yvette had come on the scene and, for the time, Jonas' dream was ended.
CHAPTER THREE
As Tanya suspected, without being willing to believe it, Angel's frankness in their poolside conversation about her fun times with boys was not altogether complete. Angel's sexual knowledge had graduated far beyond frigging and Frenching boys. She had had her first intercourse on her fifteenth birthday. From then on, she had managed many a clandestine swing session. It was her increasing appetite for cock to spew its contents up into her cunt that drove her to the doctor for the protective device.
A week later, after Angel had left for school and an overnight with a friend, Tanya prowled through her lower dresser drawer. Angel, not altogether sure of her mother's reaction, had hidden the sex-without-fear diaphragm, but Tanya had, long ago, discovered her daughter's favorite hiding places. She was not surprised to find that the plastic oval, containing the diaphragm, was missing.
"What next?" she sighed and closed the drawer. Inwardly, she envied the new freedom of youth as she remembered the openness of Angel's comments at the pool. Shocking. But who was to say it wasn't a better way to live? She thought of the years she'd lost since Angel's untimely conception, followed by her man's unexpected death. Tanya hadn't really carried a broken heart for him, he reminded herself. They hadn't even known each other well when he went off to war. Marriage had simply seemed the "right thing", with Angel coming.
But, while her parents lived, they had constantly reminded Tanya that she had once been frivolous, and now, with a child, she had to "pay the piper." Angel was the first responsibility and her parents a close second. They had made that clear. All too quickly, the seventeen years had flown. Her parents were gone, and she had no doubt that Angel would soon leave, too. It was that same day that Chad Williams walked into the reception room at the agency-and into her life.
When Vicky and Angel returned to Vicky's residence after their afternoon classes, the house was deserted, as they knew it would be. They always planned their overnights there, when her parents were away from home and the house was theirs.
Armed with chips and dip and diet cola, the girls were lounging in near-nudity on Vicky's bed, as Angel gossiped about Jonas Tycott and her suspicions about the widower.
"Do you really think he brought her back from France to be his mistress?"
Angel shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe something else. He's a queer man. If he was normal, he would have made a pass at Mommy by now."
"But why does that make him queer? Maybe he's just shy or something."
Angel narrowed her eyes mysteriously. "Oh, he's queer, all right. I should know. He got real hot over me once when I was baby sitting alone at the house. I never told Mommy. She'd never let me near the place again."
"What happened?"
"That so-called maid had the evening off, and he'd gone out earlier on some errands. Well, anyway, when I finished reading to the kids, I walked out of their room, and, just as I closed the door, he called very softly to me from his room across the hall. I jumped out of my skin! He'd come back and was just sitting in there in complete darkness, watching."
"Did you go in his room?" Vicky was listening wide-eyed.
"Of course. He told me he had kept the room dark because he didn't want to distract the children from my reading. But he still hadn't put the light on, and he was just sitting real still in a chair that looked right across the hall.
"Then he asked me to do the strangest thing. He said his wife had been a blonde and built about like me. He asked if I would mind trying on a dress of hers that he had specially liked. It was lying on the bed. He explained that that was another reason he had left the lights out ... so's he could pretend I was his wife without my being embarrassed.
"Goofy me, I didn't catch on at first. I said I didn't mind if he saw me take off my dress. He'd seen me at the pool plenty of times in practically nothing. So I turned on the light in the bathroom, and went in to peel everything, but my bra and panties. He's such a shy man, and I liked him.
"I heard him kind of gasp when I stepped out of my dress. Sort of a strangled sound." Her expression was vixenish. "I was wearing just what I have on now."
"Angel! You weren't!" Bicky's glance swept over the filmy, see-through bra, and equally transparent briefs.
The blonde nodded happily. "As soon as I heard that sound, I knew he wanted more than modeling. So I decided to have some fun. I had hung the dress on the side of the shower door and when I reached for it, I must have given him a good show. He just kind of gurgled, back where he was sitting.
"Then I discovered that the dress was a strapless, with a built-in bra. I held it up in front of myself and turned to let him get the effect. His voice cracked when he begged me to hurry and put it on. I knew he knew about the bra, so right then, I walked out of the bathroom over to where he was sitting. He didn't know how well I could see in the dark, but I could see that his hand was underneath that smoking jacket he always wears."
"What did you do?" Vicky's voice was a near whisper.
"What else? I told him about the built-in, and asked if he would unhook me in the back. I remember saying something about being afraid that I was bigger than his wife was. All he said was, 'Do you think so?' and then he stood up to reach for the snaps. Wow! He must be a foot long! And he must have thought I was half blind, or something, or else he wanted me to see him excited."
"You mean it was out of his pants?"
"Up and out! I guess I really didn't think a man in his thirties could get that hard. Well! It was just the beginning. I turned around to let him get at the hooks on my bra, and he stood just as close as he could without letting his sex bang my legs. Vicky, I could actually feel the heat from it!"
"Go on! Go on!" squealed the girl.
"Well, while he fumbled around, I raised my arms and pretended to be holding onto the straps. When the last snap popped, he just stood there breathing hard and saying nothing. Then, real gently, just as I was lifting the straps from my shoulders, he put both hands around my front ... and squeezed. Mr. Millionaire himself!"
"I'd have died!" groaned Vicky.
"I just kind of went watery all over," Angel admitted. "It felt so good! Like he was playing with a doll. Stroking and toying like he was touching a woman for the very first time. Know what he said? 'My child, you're very beautiful.' My child! That made me mad! So I yanked away from him and said, 'Thank you, but I'm really not a child anymore!'
"Then I started to go back to the bathroom and he caught my hand and sort of choked out, 'Wait!' I just stood stock-still and waited, only this time I stared right at his middle, and, even in the dark, he could see where I was looking. He didn't even try to cover himself. Boy, was he throbbing!
"He pulled me toward him, but still kept his cock just an inch from touching my leg. He panted for a second, then said, 'You are a woman now, aren't you?' It made me feel real funny all over.
"He put his hands on my shoulders, and I let him run them right down my middle. He was feeling everything all the way. Then he grabbed my hand and made me take hold of his hard-on. He asked me if I knew what that was, and I said I didn't. I even shivered so he'd think it was the first time I'd touched a man's dick."
Vicky was beside herself. "Did he try to take you?"
Angel sniffed, "He thought he had a virgin on his hands. He just took me over to his bed and stretched me out on it. The lights were still off in the room, but the bathroom light came over the bed and showed him everything I had.
"He kind of went nutty, I think. Crawled all around me, banging on my hips and legs with his prick. Then he started to suck my boobs! It made my cherries get hard as rocks, and I was so damned excited by feeling him, I thought I'd come right then. Just then, he let out this horrible groan and shot his load. All over me! I just wriggled like a worm, when his cum splashed on my titties. I rubbed it like a crazy woman, in between my boobs, and all over my nipples, and heaved around like it was the end of the world."
"Did he stop there?" Vicky's mouth was an oval of awe. She was panting with desire.
"He actually looked surprised at what he'd done. Then, said the stupidest thing: 'That's what little boys are made of."
"That's all! I grabbed his hand and put it over my panties, and said, 'Little girls are different, aren't they?' I was so mad! He ran his hand all over the lace and fiddled around at the edges, as if he was trying to decide whether to rip them off me. I wanted him to so bad, but I couldn't let him know I knew too much. I nearly went out of my tree when his fingers slipped in underneath and he poked up inside me. I must have been as hot as fire inside, because he jerked back, as if he'd been burned, and got up from the bed."
"How horrible!"
"It was," Angel agreed. "I felt all rubbery, and wanted to jump off that bed and scratch his cock right off his front. He was as stiff as a steel rod again, and, old as he is-he's at least forty-he really gets it up! It was practically pointing at the ceiling!"
"Tell me! Tell me!" Vicky writhed in an impatient frenzy for Angel to go on, and, when she didn't, she. flung herself over onto her tummy on the bed and groped behind her shoulder blades.
"Just gotta get out of my things while you're gettin' up nerve to tell the rest. Help me, Angel!"
Angel's fingers found the bra snaps, and, seconds later, both girls were stripped and giggling excitedly at the intimacy both felt in lying beside each other in the nude.
"You really are the most excitable thing, Vicky," scolded Angel. "Your nipples are hard as rocks!"
"Angel Hydom, you simply have to tell me!" fretted Vicky. "What did the man do next?"
"You're not going to believe this," warned Angel, "I'm out of my skull from feeling his fingers in my play pen, for even a second, and I stared right in his face while I stuck my hand right where his had been and pushed three fingers into my vagina.
"I must have scared him to death, thinking he had showed me something evil. He just stared at my fingers goin' in and out, you should have heard him scream, 'Don't, my child ... don't, my child!' "
"Did you really play with yourself in front of him?"
"You know it! That man thought I was out of my tree, and I almost was from wantin' his cock! There was this queer gleam in his eye, and he took off his shirt and his pants. All at once, he was stark naked and gorgeous. Vicky, some old men have neat bods and Jonas Tycott does ... and he sure knows it! For a sec, he just strutted it in front of me."
"What'd he do?"
"Funny! He looked in my eyes and said, 'Angel!' When I didn't answer, he said it again. Then I heard him say, 'She's in shock, poor child ... I must help her.' He crawled over that bedspread until he was squatting at the top of my thighs. Ooohh, his balls were drooped against my skin and his crotch was so hot!"
"He did it to you?"
"Wait ... wayyyittt!" Angel waved Vicky to silence. "He was undecided for a minute, and I almost blew it when he said, 'Angel, does the feel of my sex frighten you?' I was s'posed to be in shock, but I burst right out, 'Love it!' He gagged a second, then lowered himself across me, and pushed his organ right against my cunty hole!"
"Oh, Angel ... give! Give!"
"I did, Vicky-baby. I lurched a little, and then he was inside me and trapped before he even knew a thing. His prick knob was so thick, and I trapped him with my thighs, squeezing him, so he'd think it was a little cuntlet and my first time for sure. He believed it. He started pushing and each inch he shoved farther in, he'd gasp, 'Takin' sweet Angel's virginity ... yeah!' Like he was talking to someone besides himself, he'd say, 'Jonas, you bastard! She's never done it!' He was wild! His penis was a mile long!"
"Did he really think you were in shock, even when he started riding?"
"Mmmmhhh ... I'm sure he did. I was, too, almost. But I helped him believe it by lookin', without flickerin' an eyelash, right into his eyes and forcing myself to look right through him. Then I started spunkin', and it was something else. I went wild on his prick, and he shoved it in right to the hilt. Then he arched way back and held himself so's he could watch me go nutty."
"Did he shoot?"
"Funny ... I'm not sure. He screamed and humped crazy, but I didn't feel any shoot. Then, when I finished, he pulled out and he was still hard as a rock. Know what he did? He crawled right across my front, with his soppy prick shacking at my bod, and he didn't mind a bit creeping over my boobies and straddlin' right at my shoulders. Wow!"
"Didn't he hurt?"
"Who could feel? All I could do was see, and it was all man-meat, stiff as steel and jutting right up past my chin. He glared at me and said, 'You're a woman now ... kiss the man who made you a woman.' You know, I really think he thought I would only kiss it when he pushed it toward my mouth."
"Angel! You mean you-"
"I mean, I grabbed, and before he knew what happened, I had his big tomato out of sight and halfway down my throat. He just died! Screeched little sounds and then let it fly. Gobs, Victoria ... just gobs of juice went straight down!"
A spellbound Victoria clutched feverishly for the shapely shoulder at her side and dragged Angel close to her body. "Too much!" she panted, her trembling radiating to the body of the story teller, clearly showing her involvement, "He must be yours for the asking from now on."
Blonde hair shook vigorously. "Not much. He still thinks I don't know what happened. He climbed off and stood there looking down at my face and I kept staring up at him ... not blinking. Actually, it was kinda cute. He bent over and kissed me right on the mouth and whispered, 'When you waken, you won't remember a thing, dear child.' Would you believe it, he actually dressed me then!"
Vicky's expression was mystified. "Why would he do that?"
"Who knows? Mostly, to make me be like I was before he got me into his room. He really thought I was in a trance. But he wanted to play more while he dressed me, too. It was wonderful. He dragged me all over that bed, on my front, my back, and every which way, while he tried to put my bra and panties on. Twice he got as hard as a rock. He really loves to play with it! Here, I was supposedly in some trance, and he could make me fuck or suck or anything he wanted, and, instead, he stuck his dong under the edge of my panties and under my bra and humped like a madman. Came two times!
"Anyway, he didn't try to wipe it off my shoulders or away from my tummy where it was all gooey-he just left it. Pulled on my things, and when he was dressed, he carried me down to the den and plumped me in a big lounger. I could tell what he wanted me to think, so I pretended, when I woke up, that I'd really been asleep." Angel made an impish face at Vicky. "That's all there was. Round two coming someday. Next time, I'll be wide awake!"
Vicky sighed and stretched. "Gee, I wish I knew your Mr. Tycott."
Angel shook her head. "Huh-uh! Hell be back and then it'll be different. I'm sure he's getting it from his maid, but I don't think she's got anything to what I've got. Or you, either. But just remember, I saw him first." She looked at Vicky's figure outstretched on the bed. Her classmate had an intriguingly seductive body. Pert mounds topped a sleek, slender body that moved with a lithe, jungle-like grace. While Angel was a dramatically stacked voluptuary, Vicky had a yielding suppleness that made men want her to wrap herself around them.
"Men make such a project of their sex," Vicky said. "I don't think they really ever stop being little boys."
"Know what I want?" Angel asked, rolling to her back to lie close to Vicky. "I want to try sex in every form possible, and decide what really does the most for me."
Vicky lay perfectly still as Angel's hand slipped into hers. "Did you ever try it with another girl, Vicky?"
Vicky's eyes widened at the question, and she continued to stare at the ceiling. "I ... I think I'd be afraid, Angel."
"Afraid? Why?"
"I ... Well, I ... you might think I'm queer, if I told you why," answered Vicky.
"I won't! Try me."
"Well, I'm afraid I might get hooked on that kind of sex. You, for instance. You're just crazy about boys, but I don't know about me. I ... gee, I get all funny-feeling inside, just feeling you next to me. And when you talked about nasty old Mr. Tycott whacking you with his big dick, even on your beautiful breasts, I just got all wet inside from excitement."
Angel's hand released its grip and Vicky felt the light creep of fingers across her tummy. The touch went slowly across her mons and down the slope of her nylon panties, until it rested at the fringes of the girl's labial lips With tantalizing persistence, the fingertips beat a light tattoo through the material to the soft flesh.
"Ooohhh, Angel, you don't know what you're doing!"
Angel giggled excitedly at Vicky's response. "Know what Professor Flynn told us in Psychology of Touch Dynamics last week"? She lowered her voice to imitate the elderly teacher. " 'In my judgment, every woman should have a homosexual experience before marriage.' He said it would help every woman lead her husband to her most erogenous places."
"Are you teasing me, Angel?"
Angel's tumbled hair shook vigorously. "Huhuh! I think he's right, too. Know what else I think?"
Vicky's voice was uncertain. "Tell me."
"I think you and I ought to make this a night to remember. Let's do it both ways and see which is best for us. I know just where the manpower is, too!"
"Where?" whispered Vicky.
"Down at the gym pool. You still want me to get to be a Timette, don't you? I mean, it's going to be neat for the six of us whom they choose to be the official timers at that intercollegiate swim meet."
"That all we're supposed to do ... be timers?"
"Silly! You know more'n that. We're the legit sex interest the college wants-coeds timing each swim lane in the competitions, and wearin' teeny bikinis while we do. She lurched across the bed to grab the watch and chain from Vicky's end table. "This makes it all legal!"
"Like late night trips to the pool are legal?" Vicky's eyes showed disbelief.
"No one has to know. Five of the guys are practicing breast stroke and no one's around. Bobby Murphy thought he was really funny when he told me that we ought to come practice our timing and then they could really practise the breast stroke. You should have seen his face when I told him I'd come and bring a friend."
"Angel! You told him we'd actually come?"
"Just maybe."
Vicky shuddered at the way her friend's mind worked. Even while Angel had been describing the pool caper, Vicky's thoughts had been on the professor's words. She thought of the whitehaired, dignified professor. He had suggested that a woman should make love to another woman before she took a man. It cloaked her feelings for Angel with a kind of academic dignity.
She turned to her side and cuddled close to the shapely shoulder, breathing a warm, slow kiss at the nape of Angel's neck. A low moan of contentment drifted from Angel's lips as she felt Vicky's tongue lick lightly at her earlobe, then trace the line of sensitive skin around the ear, probing at last into the curve of its canal.
"You better be careful," Angel warned, turning to her side and curling into a tight ball.
"Afraid?" taunted Vicky. Her hand groped the curve of Angel's back.
Feeling her intention, Angel straightened her legs and Vicky ran her hands lovingly along the satin-smooth rise of her thighs.
"I'm getting terribly excited!" Angel's voice was low and husky. She rolled to face Vicky and slipped her arms around the smaller girl's shoulders.
"Vicky! Oh, Vicky!" Angel moaned. Vicky's hands had crept across her midriff.
A moment later, the two lay clutching each other, breathing deeply as their animated breasts mashed together. A slow pelvic action ground low on each body, to force the sex mound to move with tantalizing friction against an equally excited hillock.
"Let's lie still like this until one of us can't stand it any longer," urged Angel.
"I can't stand it right now!" Vicky groaned. "In just about one second I'm going to come from pure spontaneous combustion!" Her body trembled uncontrollably, and Angel suddenly felt an urgent desire to see Vicky thrash in the grip of an Angel-stimulated climax. She felt the urge to totally dominate the girl and wrap her with an uncontrollable lust to do the same.
Very deliberately, Angel began to breathe soft kisses along the fringe of Vicky's red hair, working her way across Vicky's eyebrows, then down across the cuteness of her pug nose. Their lips met, and Vicky's parted to make room for the impudent pressure of Angel's tongue. They fought a little tongue-tip duel near the roof of Vicky's mouth, and Angel's saliva mingled warmly and suggestively with Vicky's in the welcoming darkness. Then, point by point, Angel moved across the slender body. As she massaged the firm mounds of the girl's breasts, the sounds of yearning intensified. When Angel tweaked the base of Vicky's nipple with thumb and forefinger, then took the agonized cone between soft, sucking lips, the happy victim moaned deliriously.
"Angel ... Angel, darling, I don't think ... I ... can ... Ooohhh, Angel!"
Vicky grasped Angel's shoulders to mash her against the sensitized titty, but Angel, feeling the too-rapid build up, moved to love the other breast. A second later, she shifted her lip-love to less dangerous areas, and kissed her way toward the ultimate target between Vicky's legs.
When she arrived at the plateau of Vicky's tummy, she rested her cheek on the lightly quivering muscles. A ripple of expectancy seemed to wash back and forth through the girl's body, and Angel watched the rise and fall of her mound, scant inches from her eyes. Vicky's legs were pressed tightly together. The cheeks of her buttocks compressed to accent the excitement churning the length of her cunt.
"Please, Angel, don't make me wait!" The urgency of the girl's pelvic thrust underlined her need.
For the moment, Angel remained motionless, breathing radiating in a little arc on the desireridden flesh near her lips. Vicky's hands crept across Angel's shoulder blades and massaged prayerfully at the gentle rounding of her shoulders, to urge her on toward the climax. Her fingers toyed lovingly with the lengths of hair, then moved to stroke the tender warmth at the nape of Angel's neck.
"Do you really want me to take you, Vicky? All the way?"
Angel's fingertips were touching lightly along the quivering sensitivity at the crevice of Vicky's vagina.
"Yesss! You must!"
Serpent-like, Angel crawled the remaining distance, her fully packed breasts pressing their electricity against the muscle of Vicky's thigh. For an agonizing moment, Angel lay staring at the thin cleft that yearned to be spread wide to the invasion of her fingers and tongue.
"Vicky ... you're sooo pretty ... so hungry...." Angel leaned close to the flesh flanges. She ran a wet tongue along the passionate nether lips, then, impudently, shot the inquiring dart in and out just behind the moist entry. There was a frantic response to the sensation from Vicky's hips and a low moan, pleading for Angel to dominate her.
Now, Angel was feeling the magnetism of the moment. Vicky was completely in her power, unable to see, think or feel anything beyond the magic of her touch. Angel splayed the girl's quimI'll lips wide, then wider still. The peach-pink flesh was like the brilliant room of a jeweled palace, its treasure laid bare and vulnerable to the invader. Loving fingers forced the door to the richest jewel of all open, and Angel nuzzled and burrowed, feeling the heat of desire mount.
Her tongue was like an active flesh spear, probing, licking, insinuating itself further and further from the outer vestibule of Vicky's need.
Vicky felt the insistent pressure of the tongue toy with her clitoris-devil it, lave it with the warm saliva from Angel's mouth, then circle and manipulate the erect muscle with a welcomed possessiveness.
Like a bolt of lightning, Vicky's need stung her into a helpless, thrashing climax, that raced from her toes, to her head, and possessed every pore of her body. Angel felt the warm bath of the spunking crest wash hotly across her tongue. The tart honey simply maddened her desire to claim more and more of the girl. Violent spasms racked the body of the delirious recipient of Angel's favors. Vicky clutched frenziedly at the bed sheet to keep from beating her gratitude on her lover's shoulders.
To prolong, and deepen, the orgasmic paroxysm even further, Angel's fingers darted to the girl's heaving breasts, and sought out the hard nipples.
At last, the crest was past and Vicky's frantic need began to quiet. In the final, mad seconds of coming, she had writhed in joyful agony until her head slipped over the edge of the bed.
She squirmed from the helplessness of her position and wriggled from under the girl. "I want you, my baby," she murmured, nestling the side of her face into the deep cleavage of Angel's superb breasts. The white orbs yielded to the movement of her head. At the crest of one, Vicky could see an excited nipple standing hard and eager.
Systematically, she roamed the sleek torso of the passion-maddened Angel. Every point on her body was on fire from the tender assault of lust and love. Just before she moved to possess the depths of the hidden volcano, Vicky lay across her victim's thighs, feeling the pulsing quim against her chest.
"Do you need it, Angel?" she demanded.
"Ohhh, Vicky ... please ... I can't wait any longer ... I'll simply die!"
The sinuous undulations of the girl's hips, the violent heaving of her jutting breasts, told Victoria that Angel was in deadly earnest.
She slipped down the tapered loveliness of the thighs and dove thirstily into the sweet delights behind the palpitating lips of Angel's cunt. Slowly, she massaged the rise of the mound while her tongue drove far into the center. Helpless little screams of passion mounted and mounted in a crescendo of desire, until, finally, a low, protracted, steadily rising moan, burst into a shriek as it left Angel's lips.
"God! Vicky ... do! ... DOOO IT!"
When at last Angel had quieted, the two lay silently in the positions they had reached just at the moment of orgasm. Vicky's head rested on Angel's thigh, and she was staring at the blonde triangle over which Angel had no control.
"I came all over the place, just feeling you come," Vicky murmured.
"Mmmmm, I felt," Angel whispered. "It scares me."
"Why?"
"It felt ... uhhmmm, too much!"
"Know how it can feel even more?" whispered Vicky.
"How?"
Vicky twisted her body, forcing her back around the side of her classmate, then urged her hips close to the shoulder of the watching Angel. She stared, as the insatiable Vicky pressed her pubis against the smooth turn of the upper arm. The soft down that crowned the quim rubbed sensuously against Angel's golden skin.
"We'd go wild if we did it to each other at the same time," Vicky suggested.
Angel strained to press her lips against the ready cunt. As though by reflex, Vicky's hand seized the contour of Angel's hip and she buried her head in the valley between Angel's legs.
Suddenly the other tensed. "Later, Vicky!" she hissed. "I want you so much right now, all over again. But let's wait."
"Ohhhh, Angel...." Vicky was in total despair.
Angel arched to look at the clock on the bedside radio. She forced her body away from the disappointed friend.
"Have to get ready for phase two," she giggled, bouncing from the bed. "It's already eight o'clock."
"Phase two?" Vicky watched the enticing figure dance toward the bathroom.
"The boys, sillyl Remember? We're going to compare. C'mon ... shower with me." Angel waved to the disconsolate figure on the bed to follow.
After a short play under the spray of tepid water, during which time Angel finger-loved her frustrated friend to a new crest, the girls dressed and hurried down to the refrigerator for a quick snack.
"Darnl" Angel's half-eaten chicken thigh clattered to her plate at the table. "I just remembered!"
"What?"
"My timer watch. I left it in my bedroom at home."
Vicky's face brightened. The caper Angel had proposed with the swimmers at the gym had her panicky. "Let's forget it!" she exclaimed. "Anyway, what if we were caught?"
"We won't be caught, silly. The place will be absolutely deserted.I'llSides, I want to find out for myself if Bob was telling the truth about Glenn Allen."
"Shorty?"
Angel laughed and nodded. "Bobby told me that when they elected Glenn captain after last season, the guys stripped him and threw him into the pool. When they saw what he had, they nicknamed him 'Shorty.' Wow! Bob says it's eight inches long just hangin' there!"
"Oohhh!" Vicky's enthusiasm for the escapade was mounting. "I thought 'Shorty' was because he's so tall."
"Bob says he thinks Glenn is still a virgin," Angel hugged her sides, as her eyes sparkled. "I'd just love to take his first load."
"Angel, you're unbelievable! How'll you get your watch?"
"I'll just tip-toe in. Mommy goes to bed early when she's alone. Hurry up! The boys will be about done before we get there."
A few minutes later, the girls were streaking across the road in Vicky's Ford, and, shortly, its lights turned out, the car slipped silently between the two stone pillars that marked the entrance to the Tycott estate.
"Park right here," Angel nodded at the grass just inside the gate. "I'll be right back."
Removing her shoes at the foot of the steps that led to the apartment, Angel moved quietly up the stairs. She paused a moment at the apartment door. She could hear a distant sound. A male sound! Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise as she pressed her ear close to the door. Now the man's words were distinguishable.
"Take me, Tanya ... oh, take me!"
Angel's body began to tremble at the intense need of that voice. Then, incredulously, she heard her mother's low, sultry answer.
"How? How shall I take you?"
There was a low, masculine groan of impatience, followed by, "Suck! You must ... suck me, woman!"
Angel listened breathlessly as the sounds of Tanya's lips, gratifying the man's command, carried through the oak door. Carefully, she twisted the handle and pressed her weight upward against the door to ease it open without a squeak.
From the moans of the man, and the sound of her mother's preoccupation, she gambled that the two were too wrapped in desire to be aware of anyone but themselves. She was right.
When she peeked around the edge of the divider, the stranger was at right angles to her hiding place, his face turned toward the fireplace. Angel's mother was completely involved with the object that jammed its way into her mouth.
For a brief, paralyzed moment, Angel stared at the two on the pile carpet. The firelight, dancing across the bodies, gave the scene an eerie quality.
The blonde had never seen an expression like that on her mother's face before. A kind of bewitching radiance glowed about her, as she bent to a task she obviously loved.
It was the man who quickly captured Angel's attention. His body had the superb conditioning of an athlete. Every muscle and tendon was straining in response to the sucking lips of his temptress. His back was bent in a deep arch, and Angel could see his ribs concaved and stretched in desire. She watched his hands, under his buttocks, force his pelvis upward.
Never had Angel imagined a man of that size! Even the impressive length of Jonas Tycott paled in comparison to that stranger's heroic proportions. The hard, distended flesh of his prick seemed to protrude above and below Tanya's sucking lips. Angel could stand it no longer. As the man's passionate gasps intensified, she slipped quickly past the room divider and into her bedroom. Quickly, she seized the timing watch from her dresser and turned to make her escape.
Just as she reached the threshold of the doorsill, the cry began to mount.
"I'm going to ... Tanya! I've gotta ... I ... Look out! Look ooouuuuttt!"
As Angel fled past the opening, she caught a fleeting glimpse of an overwhelmed Adonis of a man, clearly pumping his semen into Tanya's mouth. The voluptuous creature, who was taking every drop of the explosion and munching for more, was rapture-ridden, as her hips and groin convulsed in uncontrolled response to the man's orgasm.
Angel pulled the door noiselessly behind her and dashed down the apartment stairs to rejoin Victoria. For a long moment, she lay back against the bucket seat of the car, drawing deeply to catch her breath.
"What happened?" demanded Vicky.
"You wouldn't believe it! Mommy is up there right this very minute making it with some guy!" Vicky's lips parted in surprise. "Honest? Did she see you?"
Angel shook her head. "She was too busy, and I don't blame her. What a bod he has!"
"Who is he?"
Angel shrugged. "What's the diff? He's a man, and it's just what she needs. I've told her a trillion times that she ought to get it once in a while, while she's still so pretty."
"Yeah, but how about if she really digs this guy for a regular thing?"
Angel sobered for an instant. "Not Mommy. She's too independent now. 'Sides, we need each other too much for her to get serious."
She peered around the darkened turnaround by the gatehouse. "She must have brought him with her. I don't see any car, and there's hers in the garage."
CHAPTER FOUR
"CountI'llem, Vicky baby ... there's three apiece!"
The girls peered through the tiny glass square at the six varsity members of the Stamford swim team grouped together at the far end of the pool. In the night silence of the building, the conversation of the males ricocheted along the tile of the room and reached the eavesdroppers.
"Jeez, Terry, they really comin' down here tonight?" Hank glanced at the bulge of partial erection which showed against Terry's elasticized trunks.
"Damn right! She promised. Why'n hell do you think I been wearin' a hard-on for half the practise?"
Team captain Ian Svender glared at Terry's groin. "Get it down! You'll sure cut the heck out of our relay speed if you can't cool it."
"Relax, buddy! It's my centerboard." Terry was obviously enjoying himself. "Every good sailor needs one, man! You gotta beaut, even before you get it up. Wait'll you see Vicky and Angel in their costumes. You're gonna have your own problems." Ian was a mixture of annoyed captain and fledgling cocksman. The tall, blonde Norwegian was rumored a virgin and that seemed impossible for one from a land of sex freedom. What seemed ever more impossible was what the "Norse", as his swimming mates called him, wore at his groin. Terry swore to Angel that limp, it was six inches, and how much more when he got it up no one knew, because he'd never shown.
Vicky shivered at Angel's elbow. "Look at your boy friend. You can see every bit of his penis through the trunks. Ooohhh ... it's gorgeous!" Angel nodded, cupping hands under her halter and stroking upward across her turgid nipples. "Their swim wear is neat ... like nothing is on their bods ... Same as our Timette stuff. Soon as it gets wet, it clings to every teensy curve. Look at the Norse...!"
Driven to thoughts of the promised arrival of the sexiest girl of the Timette hopefuls, the team captain's sexual parts were stirring. Even from the far end of the pool, Angel could see the swelling. A grotesque column of bent phallus diagonally across the Norse's gold mini rivieras and built a monstrous bulge away from his groin. Embarrassed at his helplessness, the Norse swung away from the other males and dove into the pool, freestyling furiously for the distant end.
"Man-o-man, our captain is pure stud!" chuckled Randy Torrance, as he watched flailing arms chum the water. "He'll run like crazy, if the broads show."
"They're not broads," snorted Terry. "They're pretty damned sweet, if you wanta know."
"And pretty damned chicken," retorted Randy, shuffling to a bench at poolside. "What's more, I'm giving odds that the redhead won't even shape up. I think she's virgin stuff. Angel is your chick, so where's it get us, if they do show?"
Terry chuckled at Torrance's irritation. "Like I said, old buddy, tonight I share the wealth." Behind the door, a watching Angel sniffed in pretended annoyance. "That's a man for you, Vicky. Would you believe Terry offered me his lavalier last week, and this week he's offering me to his buddies?"
Victoria stepped back from the tiny panel of glass and moved behind Angel, her arms circling her best friend's waist to snuggle close as they watched. A little tremor radiated from Vicky's body, and, looking away from the cluster of males in the next room, she burrowed her face against Angel's shoulder.
"Please, Angel ... I ... I've changed my mind. I don't want to go in there ... I-"
"Silly!" Angel spun around to face her. "Why in the world would you say a thing like that?"
"Because I lied about what I know about men." Her voice was a half whisper. "Randy is right. I'm virgin stuff and I don't know a thing."
For a disbelieving second, Angel hugged the girl close to her, feeling the trembling intensify. It was the exact opposite of what she had believed about the statuesque Victoria, whose every move, and every word, described a girl knowledgeable about the acts of love.
Suddenly, all was in new perspective-the lesbian frenzy that built so quickly in Vicky, and her wants to continue it through the night rather than go to the gym pool. The fact was, Angel realized, she had been so busy talking of herself, and her own conquests, she just assumed Victoria was experienced.
"You needn't do a thing you don't want to," Angel murmured. "But come on in and let's show off our Timette costumes and maybe even time a few practise laps." She waved the stop watch that hung by a pendant at her neck. "See, down to business, and if anyone starts any monkeying around ... well ... you heard my ex-boy friend ... Angel will share the wealth! So, I'll do the sharin' and you can watch."
The body pressed against hers relaxed, and Angel knew she had won. She felt Vicky stretch to look over her shoulder into the pool area and heard her gasp. "Angel, look at them! Four out of six are half hard! I can t tell about Norse ... he's still in the water. Ooohhh ... I wish I had the nerve to just try it!"
"Don't worry about it," murmured Angel, studying the earnest conversation between Terry and Randy. "Right now I wonder what Terry is giving my cute jerk off."
"Jerk off!" Vicky's eyes were puzzled.
"Randy has superhots for me. You know he lives with Terry in meathead dorm, where they keep all the scholarship athletes."
"So?"
"I go over there to the quad, just outside Randy's window to work out with the eurhythmics group, and dear Randy is behind the curtains watching every time. I'm just wondering if he knows anything about copulation."
The same topic was the subject of the whispered exchange between Randy and Terry, as they waited for the appearance of the promised visitors. "You've got to break the festivities loose, or I'll rat on you," taunted Terry, smirking at the deepening color in his roommate's face.
"How come me?" demanded Randy. "She's your girl. You get her out of her threads."
"Huhunnhh. She's pissed off at me. Saw me with another chick behind the library and tonight's her chance to get even. You make the move, roomie buddy, or I'll razz your ass in front of Angel."
"You're a bastard," grunted Randy, knowing Terry would do exactly as he warned. He remembered his embarrassment the day before, when Terry barged into their quarters at the worst moment....
She had come to the quadrangle in the center of the dorm square, and, this time, it was almost as if Angel had known Randy was alone in the suite he shared with Terry. Usually, she was with friends, and, usually, she was further out in the quad when she did the sinuous eurhythmics routines.
This time she was alone, and this time she chose the terrace just outside his study window to practise. Her cover was a black, skin-tight body stocking that all the girls in the eurhythmics class wore. Every fabulous crest and valley of her wild body was highlighted by the nylon jersey that made her appear more nude than nude. Against the dark molding garb, Angel's platinum hair was in stunning contrast, accenting the striking beauty of her face.
Gaping at her straining, wriggling body Randy was masturbating furiously when Terry burst into the room unexpectedly.
"Goddamnit, man, don't you ever knock?" Trapped in a sea of embarrassment, Torrance twisted away to hide his erection from the sight of the intruder.
"Jeezus, don't flip! Only way most guys get kicks around this joint," chuckled Terry, stepping causally to the window.
"Rriminy, she lias got an ass," he muttered.
"You should know," growled Torrance, "and what's with the bit about only way we get our kicks around here ... I know you're gettin' into her, man."
Terry shook his head. "We just split, but I got me a notion that can give me a reunion, and it'll give you a hell of a lot more than a frig." Behind him, he heard the zipper close over Randy's collapsed penis.
"Angel there, dyin' to get even with me, has this friend, Victoria, and that redhead's eatin' her heart out for me. Greatest idea since fuckin' was invented!"
He went on to map out the scheme that had bugged him since the formation of the coed tim mg squad for the college's swim team. When he finished, an incredulous Randy was sold.
"Think she'll really come?"
"She'll come because she knows you're going to be there, old buddy. For me, she's got nothing but a bad mouth right now ... She's asked me a hundred times about you. Mostly, about one part of you."
"Meaning?"
"Your dong, old buddy. The girls see us in those nothing swim trunks, and dear Angel thinks you and the Norse are fakin' it."
"Faking?"
"She actually asked me if you two guys wore a jock or some padding under the rivieras to make it look bigger, and when I told her it was all you, she flipped. That's why she'll come runnin' when I make the pool date for tomorrow night."
She hadn't come running, thought Randy, glancing down the pool toward the distant entry door. If she did, he'd damned well show his craphead roomie he was up for more than frigging. "Sonofabitch! Look at that!"
All eyes turned on the swinging doors at the entry, as two sizzling Timettes strutted into the tiled arena. Wearing flesh colored bikinis, which gave the illusion under the bright overheads that the girls were nude, Angel and Vicky, moved in dazzling, wanton invitation along the side of the pool.
Ripe, animated globes thrust in provocative boldness against bikini halters and, pressing through the cloth, the hardened nipples of both girls advertised the state of their excitement.
As they neared the five who were out of the water, Angel leaned over the rounded edge of the pool to wave to Norse, who was swimming slowly and sullenly toward them.
"Ian!" called Angel. "Do two laps, free style, and let us time you. I want to see if our stop watches are perfectly synchronized."
For an athlete who, until now, leaped at every chance for an exhibition of his water prowess, Norse was singularly disinterested. "Pooped," he growled, treading water near the side of the pool and looking up at the dazzling duo directly over his head. "No point in giving any demonstrations."
Through the transparency of the water, both girls could see the real reluctance. Hard and monumental, Norse's cock was explosive against his skin tight rivieras. It was so stiffened that it had reamed the elasticized material up and away from his body, and the girls could see the shadow of an ominous cock shaft.
"Okay, spoil-sport." A disdainful Angel flipped long, silver-blonde lengths across her shoulder and turned airily away, fighting the swimming in her head. "C'mon, Vicky, let's go see the men."
A strange storm raged inside Victoria as she walked toward the five clustered at the base of the high diving board. To a man, the five were in total erection, and every one was in agony. The exact outline of each swollen penis, and each fat chestnut tip could be seen.
"I want you to meet these dudes," Angel declared to Vicky, as they stood in front of Terry. "Shake hands with my ex boy friend ... no, no . not there!... here!"
Before he could react, Angel's hands were at his hips and pulling at the rivieras. Down, down, down! Soon, the trunks lay at his feet and he stood totally exposed.
"Shake his handle, Vicky! ... Here!" Grabbing the redhead's fingers, she seized the brazen cock shaft and locked Vicky's fist around it.
"Ohmigosh ... yeah!" Terry was shocked for one brief second, then, in complete self control, he said, "Yeah, baby ... shake it."
Victoria went slowly to her knees before him, eyes fixed on the bolting hard-on, unaware that anyone else was near. "I'm very glad to meet you, Terry," she said to the trembling phallus. "I hope we get better acquainted ... some other time." Quickly, she stood to her feet, and those nearest to her saw the look in her eyes and misunderstood it for a female dying to spread herself to the attack. The reverse was true. The minute one of the horny crowd around her lost control-and the control of all of them was already almost gone-there was going to be mayhem with her body. Whether she'd like it, or hate it, she had no idea-but one thing was going to be instantly clear to all of the males. She knew nothing about making love.
She remembered the doctor's voice after her violent fall during a tumbling exercise just a year before. She lay bleeding and bruised on the emergency room table and the man said, "Young lady, I hope your purity isn't going to be important for you to prove someday." Now, it was a comic thought that she'd at least not show the virgin signs.
Fighting an impulse to laugh hysterically at the ridiculous fact that she was with six aroused males and hopelessly inexperienced, she let Angel lead her from one cock to another. Soberly, she reached and took each outspoken handle and shook it in mock greeting, calling each by its owner's name until they came to the last.
'This, Victoria, is Randolph." Angel stripped the elasticized trunks across Randy's belly, and a tortured hard-on leaped for freedom. "Randolph is a show off! Look at it!"
Vicky dropped to her knees before the penduluming prick and grasped the erection tightly, jerking it sporadically as she gaped at the full testicles drooping beneath the dark cap pointing directly at her.
"He's elected." Angel said it in a whisper, dropping to a crouch behind Vicky, and reaching quickly to the halter snap. Before startled Victoria could resist, the halter flew from her front and she was bare breasted before five delighted males.
"Help me, guys!" cried Angel, seizing Victoria's shoulders. "Randy is going to give us a show ... right, Randy?"
"A ... a show?" Randy's voice was uncertain.
Angel pulled impatiently at his wrist. "Get down across her waist, Randolph. Show off!" she ordered.
He obeyed, sinking to a straddle across Vicky's waist. In helpless intrigue, he stared at the heaving boobs rising directly in front of his sexual parts.
"Now, Randy, baby, you do what you do for me most every day." Her eyes danced happily at her expose.
"Whatzat?" His eyes were panicked.
"Do what all your buddies do when they get too horny ... jerk it!"
"Guh ... go on ... I don't-"
"You don't what, Randolph? You don't stand behind the curtain and play with your pretty prick, watching me do my eurhythmics?"
A dumbstruck Randy, half rose from his mount across Vicky's middle, then sagged slowly back to his perch on the satin firmness of her midriff. His eyes darted from one to another of his teammates, and he saw no mocking in any of the glances as they watched his reaction soberly. Two were stroking lightly in excitement over the erotic madness spread before them.
"Do it, Randy!" urged Angel, circling quickly behind him and bending to Vicky's hips.
"NO! Ohhh ... Angel, don't!" Vicky squirmed in protest, but it was too late to stop the blonde from dragging the bikini panties from her body.
"Isn't someone going to help me?" demanded Angel, strolling to poolside and turning her back on the entranced Norse still treading water at the edge.
The sight gripped the already inflamed team captain, as Angel reached over her shoulder for the halter catch, drawing her shoulders back as she flipped the snap. His gasp burst explosively as the halter flew from her front.
To torture Norse more, Angel deliberately kept her back to him as she bent to peel her panties.
"Damn, that's wild!" choked one of the team.
"Bring ... Norse ... to ... me." Angel said slowly and deliberately as she crept to Vicky's shoulder and stared at the hesitation in Randy's face. In her hand, was the stop watch, and in her eyes was pure mischief. "We're going to start being Timettes." She looked directly into Randy's eyes. "I'm going to time how long it takes you to jerk off over Victoria's pretty body."
A roar of outrage came from the pool water as four swim teammates dragged Norse toward the tile steps, just below where Randy straddled Victoria. When they pulled the tall blonde captain from the water, he was as naked as the rest, and, to a bewitched Angel, Norse appeared to own a cock more than twice that of the others.
"Put him right here ... on his back!" She pointed to a place next to Vicky's side. "I am going to make someone time how many minutes it takes me to rape Norse, soon's I get these two going."
Sniffing her annoyance at the unexpected shyness of Randy, she snatched his erection from his motionless fist and drove it into the deep valley of Victoria's breasts. "Do it right into her boobies," she cooed.
A strange light came into Randy's eyes at the feel of the tender breast flesh. Though he had been intimate with half a dozen girls before, the accusation of masturbation had so thrown him, it was like an entirely new feel.
"Yah!" He seized his cock from Angel's grip and shifting his body to keep his weight from Vicky's midriff, he leaned forward across her front.
"You're damned right I jerk it!" He began to pump himself into the cleavage of the lovely breasts and grinned at Vicky's stare as she looked up in wide-eyed astonishment at the possessed man.
"Every day," he panted, pounding furiously at his organ and whacking the jutting boobs as he pumped himself. "See Angel outside ... my window ... every day ... but Vicky's sweeter than ... yahhhh!"
Semen flew in wild abandon across the straining front of trapped Vicky, splattering her breasts, her throat, and charging into her face and up across the crest of flame red hair.
Abruptly, it was done, and he sagged across the front of a girl who had just seen, for the first time in her life, a man in masturbation. Involuntarily, her arms reached for Randy's shoulders and she drew him down to her. Warm droplets of his ejaculation cemented their bodies, and for silent seconds they squirmed quietly against each other.
"It took him five minutes to shoot and he squirted for four seconds." Angel studied the hands on her stop watch in mock seriousness, and then fell silent watching with the others.
The next move came without a word between the clasping pair.
Spectators saw the squirming body as Randy wormed down Victoria's middle, until his thighs were atop her thighs. She gave a little inarticulate cry when he wormed a knee between her knees and tried to spread her legs.
"No ... oh, Randy, I...." Her voice faltered and her eyes closed, as if to shut out the passion in the face so near to hers.
"Let me, honey," whispered a determined male. Tell me the truth ... it's first time?"
She nodded and tinned her face to the side. "I don't know anything about anything!"
At Victoria's side, Angel burrowed close to her head and whispered something not even Randy was able to understand. An answered nod from Vicky was all that was needed, and Angel twisted toward the spreadeagled figure of Norse.
Ignoring the four who held the writhing captain, Angel bent to his ear and whispered in a voice, again too low to be heard, "It's your first time, too ... right, Norse?" She nibbled his earlobe, waiting for his response. "You don't need to be ashamed, if you've never done it before."
"Not goin' to, now, either!" he growled. "Let me alone!" A surging column of aroused penis belied his attitude.
"Put his legs tight together," Angel ordered, ' and quickly the two men at his ankles obeyed.
For a bemused instant, Angel's glance swept the group. At her side, Randy lay unmoving on Victoria's tantalizing curves, his erection pressed in all its steel hard length across her tummy plateau. Four hypnotized males, not yet part of the action, crouched around their captain, gawking in lusty want of the redhead and the platinum blonde.
"You're all going to see a first," announced Angel, handing her ex-boy friend her stop watch. "Terry is going to time me, and you, Howie, are going to time Randolph Torrance and Victoria."
"What kind o' first?" demanded a distraught Howie Lancaster, taking the watch reluctantly.
For a moment, Angel was quiet and unanswering, and an unearthly still settled on the arena. It was the mood Angel wanted for her announcement. Conscious of the intensity of all, as they lay on their backs at either side of her-Randy, Terry, Howie, and the others staring-she crept across Norse's thighs and knelt directly over the ramrodding monstrosity of his erect penis. He made no sound or move of protest now-he just waited.
"You are all so pretty." Angel sighed and looked from one to the other of the four males around her. "And you're all so very serious! This is a funwonderful thing that's going to happen. First off, promises from everyone that no one is going to breathe a word of what goes on, or what's said, right?"
A chorus of assent from those around Angel spurred her on. "And we're not one going to think it's the least weird that we're about to initiate two virgins. There's a first time for all of us ... right?"
"Not here, damn it!" Norse surged upward, almost unseating his playmate, and she grabbed wildly for his stallion length to hold her place. "I don't know huh ... anything ... please ... miss! Oh ... God ... I gotta!" He writhed in lust agony and Angel repositioned herself, nudging forward until her cunty cleft was directly over the swollen mushroom of his cock crown. The heat of her need radiated from the apex of her thighs to the sensitive glans penis, and Norse was helpless with the wanting.
"At my signal, you time men Norse." Angel pointed at Terry. "And you ..her finger speared at Howie, who was watching in envious helplessness, " ... you time Randy while he initiates Victoria. Ready, Randy?"
"Puh ... please, Angel!" pleaded Vicky in last minute panic. "I ... I'm ... oohhhh!"
"Time!" Angel stuck her tongue impishly through puckered lips, as her boy friend's anguished look turned her way. "I'm goin' down on Nuh ... Norse ... eeehhh! ... aahhhh!"
Entranced teammates watched Norse's thunderous vermilion prick-crown slither through Angel's pussy cleft and seat fully into her vagina threshold with a distinct sound of hard cock snapping into a snug cunt-harbor. A wild jungle look of want-run-wild appeared in Angel's expression, and her eyes glazed almost instantly as Norse's outsized erection began to push into her tight vagina.
Those closest could see the girl's labial lips stretch to accommodate the massive breadth of the shaft. As she took the penis into herself, Angel arched in a delicious body crescent, her arms flung high and wide, her head thrown back. The platinum hair danced loosely on her back, and her torso writhed lusciously.
At first, she panted little cries of frenzy as six, then eight, inches of erection stuffed her. Abruptly, the cry became a whimper, and the long lashes closed over her eyes as the whimper became a silent sporadic reflex of her lips. It was clear, from the erratic hip convulsions, that Angel had begun a chain climax the moment the monstrous organ smashed her clitty trigger.
Suddenly, just as Norse's orgasm cry split the silence of the intrigued onlookers, and his violent humping left no doubt that he was pumping semen into Angel's cunty tunnel, the girl seemed to wilt. Spellbound witnesses saw her lovely body go limp and drop across Norse's front as she took the blast of his cum.
Beside the two, Victoria was in a world beyond. Randy was buried, his mound to her mound, his prick fully planted in her virgin snugness. Those who looked from one couple to the other, saw Vicky go into her climax at almost the same instant as Angel. As the ecstasy took her, Vicky's eyes widened in erotic shock, and her head turned from side to side as she stared at the males watching her reactions.
Mouth ovaled in surprise at the incredible rapture that had grabbed her, she gaped first at the faces, and then at the exposed hard-ons of the other males. Her coming was a wild cresting, and then a slow drop to the valley of momentary calm. It was in one such calm, with Randy still to let go his first cannonade of love lava, that she sensed the mood of the onlookers.
"Randy ... let them see us!" Her little fists beat a tattoo on his chest and he got the message. With his weight resting on the palms of his hands, he arched away from her dazzling front to give all the audience a clear view of his cock in her possessed vagina.
It was the magnetism of putting himself on display that tore the self-control from Randy. Glancing at the magic of their bodies, merging, he felt the tremendous power of being the first male to fire semen into Victoria's darling cunt. The frantic clutching of her vaginal muscles forced the climax instantly and, forgetting the display, he flung himself across her front, driving and humping to plow his organ to the firewall of her cunt.
With almost choreographed precision, his roar of climax as he ejaculated into the flame-haired beauty, matched the bellow of the cunt-crazed Norse as he fired the first load of love he had ever shot into a girl's body. Pure, simple rapture enveloped him when he felt her body pulsing to the frantic excitement of his ejaculation.
There was a second of electric-charged silence when the orgasms quieted. Victoria's voice broke the silence. "Thank you, Randy ... that ... was ... beautiful ... oohh ... I want. .
Her hand reached toward Terry's erection, and Randy slid away from their embrace to make room for the next lover. No more thoughts now of stop-watching, or timing the action.
"C'mon, Norse!" coaxed Howie when the powerful Norwegian showed no sign of releasing his grip around Angel's shoulders. "Give us a chance."
"Gotta have it!" roared the savagely driven Norse, staggering to his feet. He continued to grind his still fiercely erected cock into the intoxicating female, who now collapsed backward away from his body.
Her marvelously rich breasts seemed to explode away from her body as she dangled from his prick. All other action stopped at what had to be the most beautiful animal sight ever seen by the onlookers. Norse's powerful torso was in formidable contrast to the delicious female who was drooped helplessly on his deeply buried prick. It looked, some said later, as if Angel had expired, deliberately offering herself as a human sacrifice to the oversized stud length planted in her sweet body. She seemed to hang almost lifelessly, her gorgeously tapered thighs widespread, as she circled Norse's waist with her legs.
"Guh ... god! Oh, yeah!" shrieked Norse, letting the second frenzied ejaculation race into the girl.
Orgasm stilled, Norse sank slowly to his knees and drew the quivering body from his cock. Then, cupping Angel in his arms, he smiled at the stunned watchers. "Let her rest a minute," he whispered, "but I think she's going to need more from someone who really knows how."
"You were beautiful, man," muttered Howie. "Let me hold her now."
"Huh-unnnhh. Think someone else needs you before Angel does." Norse nodded toward Victoria, who was writhing in post climax frustration as she pushed against a still hungry Terry.
"Beautiful, Terry," she panted. She lay outstretched before the others. "Beautiful ... you shot gobs of you way up to my tip-top ... but, I want him."
She stabbed a finger at Howie. He crept into the valley of her legs and stared down at the rippling spasms still crossing her tummy plateau.
"Know what?" she moaned, when Howie's cheeks pressed close to her lips. "Both their penises felt different ... oohhh! ... and they shot it into me different. Know what I want?"
"What, baby?"
"I want six different cocks my first six times." She groaned happily as he angled his erection against her yielding vulva. "I want to try every size ... every single ... siiieeehhh!"
"Victoria, baby ... I'm the one you'll want back again," she heard Howie say. The room was beginning to move slowly around her, and she felt herself enveloped in a weird whirlpool of lust for the throbbing cocks standing full and hard before her eyes. She, and her dear friend Angel, were alone in that room with nothing between them but mighty pricks.
Her thoughts sped back to the bedroom and how she and Angel had played with each other's bodies. No contest between the two loves now. She was a man's woman. She was a girl crazed for the male erection.
"Howie's cock," she chanted softly, as he stroked into her, "cocky Howie ... Howie's cocky...." She was trapped in a swirling vortex, going round and round at an ever-increasing speed. The roar was all about her, and she reached desperately for the one way to save her life.
She grabbed the rock hardness of his white, hot cock and she gripped it with both hands.
From somewhere, far off, she heard what sounded like a distant strangled scream, and then the cock was tom from her feverish clasp. She watched in horror as it seemed to rise away from her reach and dance in merry contempt before her eyes.
"Pluh ... puhleeese!" she screamed at the wearer of the cock. "I need it ... I want it!"
It was coming nearer again, and now the brilliant red, broad-backed tip was warm against her mouth. "You just had me," said the voice of the owner, "and you said you want six different cocks at first. You can suck me!"
"Suck him! Suck him!" cried voices behind the cock.
"Take my cum down your throat ... down ... down!"
"Please!" screamed Vicky. "I've sucked penises before ... dozens and dozens ... love sucking ... but, please ... I want to fuck ... to fuuucckkk!"
"Do both!" screeched a voice behind the prick pressed to her lips. "Take Danny and take me same time!"
"Oh, Godddhh, I want to...." The cock plunged into her mouth and stopped her words.
Locked in fellatio, she munched frantically at the demanding organ, even as she felt a new erection cramming tightly into her vagina. The fact that there were witnesses to see who it was who filled her mouth and her cunt at the same instant, even when she didn't know, made it all the more hysterically wonderful.
Then, there was more violent hauling and pulling, and she felt her body wrenched to and fro as she clutched feverishly at the penis buried in her mouth. It seemed the most natural thing to do: to suck and fuck simultaneously. Like some great symphony, a shout arose when the ejaculation spat into her vagina, and she recognized the cry as belonging to the sixth member of the team.
Only Norse remained, and he knelt worshipfully at her side, staring down into her face. The two, bound forever, by the common bond of having yielded their virginity on the same day.
Abruptly, a brief, hushed quiet, like the eye of a hurricane, descended on the room. Formless bodies moved around her. Voices babbled, calling Angel's name, and then hers. Eerie shapes did things to her body and it all felt good. It seemed like an ocean of pricks surrounded her-great, white lengths topped with bright red caps.
She looked across at the girl spread on her back beside her, and there was something inherently evil in Angel's face as she smiled back at Vicky. It occurred to Victoria that on this day, in her own way, this beautiful platinum blonde sexpot had taken her every step of the way.
In the bedroom, Angel had led them in lesbian play. At the pool, she had coaxed both Norse and herself to giving their bodies to the world. Now there was no stopping, and, looking deeply into the calculating eyes of her best friend, Victoria knew that few people would ever be able to resist the manipulating skill of Angel Hydom.
Searching for reasons for her own weakness, Vicky's fingers explored, from point to point, her body. She felt the tenderness of her much handled breasts, and, then, her fingers drifted to the puffy tissue of her ravished pussy. Savage pinpricks darted from a thousand nerve endings along the bruised, happy walls of her vagina. The sticky residue of five frantic male ejaculations dribbled slowly from her heated guim. Her eyes drifted to the man moving to his knees beside her, and she gawked in helpless desire for the massiveness of Norse.
Oddly, her thoughts drifted to the description Angel had given of the stud she had found making love to her mother. Was it that very night? Was any stud bigger than this monster, Norse? Stroking suggestively across her pubic mound, Viky wondered how long it would take Angel to track, and find, her mother's lover. When she did, how long would it take her to steal him?
"Norse," whispered Victoria, reaching for the magnificent pole hardness, "we have something special."
"I know," Norse nuzzled in the hollow of her neck. "Maybe I'm too big for you, yet."
"Ohhh, I hope so!" hissed Vicky. "I hope you'll kill me with it ... make me go crazy on that thing!"
The grossly swollen crown nudged along the sensitive inner muscle of her thigh, and then it was flush against the tender cleft.
"All of you, Norse ... give me all of you!"
CHAPTER FIVE
It was late the next afternoon when Tanya wondered if it was possible that she had known the man seated behind her for little more than twenty-four hours. Had there been any days before Chad Williams entered her life?
She hummed quietly to herself as she looked from picture to picture lying under the speed drier. There were enlargements of his face, his profile, his hands; full-length shots she had taken while he was still in his business suit, and then those first shots when he was riviera-dressed.
Was this the same unsure man who had stepped off the elevator into the reception room of Clark Advertising, and straight into her life? Could it really have been just a day ago?
His name kept whispering through her thoughts ... Chad Williams ... Chad Williams ... Chad Williams....
She knew that, from this day onward, the man seated behind her was her reason for living. For over two hours they had been in the darkroom. She had shooed him to a chair in the comer while she developed the film, and then enlarged the pictures for his commercial portfolio. Little conversation had passed between them while she worked. Both were immersed in thoughts of what had happened.
All those wasted years in the military, that short-lived, but painfully expensive, marriage on the West Coast. Ultimately, the path had led him to Tanya, and, now that they had found each other, nothing could separate them.
He saw Tanya's head turn toward the wall clock and he wished that, somehow, he could stop the hands from moving. Once the pictures were finished, he knew that his departure was imminent. They had both agreed that he should return to the city, to his friend's apartment, until she had the chance to speak with Tycott about Chad's living in the garage portion of the gatehouse. That way, his being introduced as a permanent part of, what had been, a two-member family, could be programmed gradually.
"Row s it coming?" he asked, heating a soft giggle from Tanya as she looked at the pictures. "Beautiful!" she answered. "Come look."
She snatched one picture from under the drier and pressed it to her chest. "This one I'm going to keep for myself under my pillow."
Chad grabbed her to his arms, and the two of them wrestled playfully for a moment before he was able to snatch the picture away from her. He bent across the table and studied the enlargement in the dim light of the bulb.
"You nut!" he yelped.
It was the last shot Tanya had taken, snapped just as he swung toward her from the stool on which he had been posing, and showed, dragged beneath his overfilled testicles, the undersized trunks and, gripped by a feverish fist, his burgeoning cock.
Tanya made a grab for the glossy, and Chad turned to look at the other pictures. He was secretly glad she had caught him at the moment when his desire had first run wild.
"Say, you're good!" he exclaimed. "These shots are excellent demos for any agent."
"Thank you, sir." Tanya scooped the eight-by-tens from the drying rack, interleaving each with a sheet of paper towel. "They'll be completely dry for your appointment with Dick Baker."
Dick Baker was one of the most successful commercial agents in the city. When she had called him, earlier in the afternoon, he was more than glad to meet Chad. He had cased the receptionist at Clark many times on his trips to the agency. Who could tell? One favor might bring another. "Has he got a tape?" Baker had asked Tanya. "Not yet. Should he have one to meet you?"
"S'all right. Send him down on Monday. If he sounds good, we'll tape here. Lots of call for voice-over stuff. Big voice, you say?"
"I think you'll like it, Mr. Baker."
"Dick, honey. Ten sharp, okay? Tell him to bring the pictures. I'll call you back and tell you what I think."
When Tanya gave Chad the report, he was ecstatic. Now, as she handed him the sheaf of glossy photographs, he was glum. "You really-think I should stay in the city one whole weekend?"
She pushed him toward the darkroom door. "Go, man! Before I weaken!"
The ride to the station was silent, and all too quick. They had just met, and, already, they were separating. Chad was painfully embarrassed about taking the money she pressed into his hand to "tide him over" for the two days. "Just think of it as model's wages," she teased. "And remember, you gave me a very unusual pose!"
He aimed a playful swat at her chin with the packet of pictures. "I think I'm underpaid," he complained jokingly, as he left the car.
"Call me from the lobby in Baker's building after you've talked," she asked. "I'll have news of Mr. Tycott's reaction to a new tenant in the gatehouse by then."
"Good luck, darling," murmured Chad, leaning back into the car to press a kiss to her lips. "Lord, I'll die till Monday!" He turned away reluctantly.
She watched him disappear through the station door, and then drove hurriedly home.
Within hours after Angel's return from school, significant changes were evident to Angel in her mother's attitude. At first, Angel attributed it to the sizzling evening her mother had had. The mental image of her mother, nude and voluptuous, bending across that terribly aroused stranger, plagued the girl.
For some reason Angel herself could not understand, the recurring memory of what she had seen was annoying and irritating. All along she had made pronouncements to her mother that she ought to swing a little, but confronted with the sight, the suggestion soured. The thought of her Mommy, totally involved with someone else, suddenly frightened her. Up until now, the sum total of Tanya's life had been her young daughter. Suppose that center should shift, Angel thought. The look on her mother's face, when she was loving that stranger, left little doubt where her affection would go if Tanya ever really got involved with a male.
"Mommy, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were in love," Angel observed drily at the breakfast table the next day.
"Why? Do I look different?" There was an undeniable glow to her skin, an indefinable radiance to her expression, and unseen by Angel, was a lightness that flooded Tanya as she busied herself with the apartment chores.
"It's just too bad it's Saturday," Angel smirked. "The way you're lit up, they could turn off all the lights at your office."
Tanya looked thoughtfully at her daughter. She'd known her long enough to know when the girl was making leading statements. She also knew that right timing to report of her interest in a man. Angel had never known her father.
Lord knows, thought Tanya, if the child ever needed a father, it's right now! With the right handling, Tanya was certain that Angel would learn to love Chad as her father, and not just as her mother's lover.
Tanya's intuition warned her that if she broke the news too fast, Angel would reject it as Mommy making a last-ditch grab for a little tawdry loving. She knew her daughter pretty well.
Early Saturday evening, Tanya called the manor house to see if she could meet with Jonas Tycott.
"Of course, Tanya! Do come up. Right now, if you'd like." Jonas' voice was warm and inviting. It was the first time Tanya ever had asked for a private audience.
"About an hour, if that's all right with you," she replied.
"Fine. See you then."
When he replaced the receiver, Tycott stood meditating on the reason for the appointment. Any number of things might have brought on the call, and the worst possibility entered his mind first-Angel. Perhaps she had told her mother of that episode in his bedroom, when he'd invited her in on the pretext of trying on that dress. He shook his head, dismissing that as a possibility. The little wench had loved every second of the cock play, and, if anything ever were charged, it would only be the word of a flighty teenager.
"Impossible!" Jonas murmured to himself. "She's got to be more than seventeen to know that much about men. Anyway, she loved every second of it."
His roving thoughts began to focus solely on the ripe, wonderful woman who would soon be coming up the drive. Perhaps she was coming with some prefabricated excuse, just to move into his favors. That was it! After all, she was young, and lush, and lonely. Tonight was the night he would let her know how he felt about her. He would give her just a hint of his fuck-hungry desires, but whatever he decided to do, Jonas knew that, as they sat together in his library, he'd be looking at a lusciously nude female. Oh, she could be wearing evening-length for all it mattered! He'd seen her in her bikini often enough to know every delightful curve.
Half an hour before Tanya was due, an inspired thought struck Jonas: Why not have her here alone to myself? Quickly, he strode to the intercom on the library wall and pushed two buttons. Yvette and Hans answered almost simultaneously.
"Would you both come to the library at once." He made it a statement, not a question.
Clearly, both the man and the woman came in thinking that their master had devised some entertainment for the evening. He looked them over calmly as they stood before him. Yvette still wore her knee-length black, having just put the children to bed. Hans was neatly dressed in shirt and tie and dark pants.
I wish to be alone this evening," he said. "So I'm giving you the night off." He peeled a bill from his wallet and handed it to Hans. "Here. This is for you both. Don't come back until after midnight. That's all."
Fifteen minutes later, lie beard Hans hurrying the car down the drive. Jonas smiled to himself. He was willing to bet the two of them would make a beeline to the nearest motel and waste no time in tearing into each other. Now, in the remaining moments before his caller arrived, he could devote himself entirely to making plans about Tanya.
Too quickly the doorbell sounded, and he knew that things would have to develop spontaneously.
"What will you have to drink?" he asked, after Tanya had seated herself.
"Do you have vodka?" she asked.
He nodded and smiled knowingly. "don't want our little Angel to know that Mommy has been having a drink?"
She laughed a trifle tensely. "No, it isn't that. I rarely drink, and vodka seems to have the mildest effect."
"Well!" Tycott's manner was expansive, "we'll just keep it mild. How about Vodka and tonic?"
"That sounds fine," Tanya responded. Her mind yras on the purpose of her coming to the manor, and she wondered if Jonas's warmth would continue, once she had made her request.
His back to her, he mixed their drinks.
"I'll make it two parts vodka, one part tonic, he calculated silently as he poured. She s too uptight to know the difference.
"You've heard Angel's nickname for me," she remarked, when he handed her the drink and took a seat facing her, "Here's to Mommy!" He raised his glass in salute.
She saw his gaze move momentarily from her face to her bodice. Not a lustful look, but one of admiration. The thoughts that had plagued her since that day at the poolside, when she had heard those sounds and seen that flash of pounding flesh at the window, must have been wrong, she concluded.
"You've been so good to us," she said, searching for a way to broach the reason for her visit. Oddly, the glass in her hand was already half-empty. "We have such a lovely home in the gatehouse, and we give you so little, now that you have a full-time governess for the children."
Jonas Tycott was graciousness unlimited. He sprang to his feet and, without asking, took the glass from her hand.
"I'll freshen it. To tell you the truth, it's a sheer I delight to have such charming tenders of my tollgate. Have you come to bring me the receipts?"
She smiled at the joshing and accepted the refill gratefully. "Mmmmm ... I've never had vodka with tonic before ... it's very cooling, isn't it?"
"Smooths off all the rough edges," Tycott replied.
For nearly ail hour, they talked about everything, except the reason which had brought Tanya to call. They talked about Angel, her experience at the community college, and what she was interested in doing when she graduated. Tycott watched carefully when he first asked about her daughter. He was certain that the visit had nothing to do with his little caper with the child in his bedroom. Then, they talked about his children, and, this time, it was Tanya who watched carefully as he enthused about the fine work Yvette was doing with them.
"She has them almost bilingual already," he said.
Tanya remembered the sounds she'd heard from the poolside and wondered about the nonacademic aspects of Yvette's work.
Once, Tanya started to bring up the reason for her coming to see him, but Tycott, catching the seriousness of her expression, leaped to the nearly empty glass in her hand and hurried off again to the bar.
"I ... I really shouldn't, Mr. Tycott. I...."
"Nonsense! Of course, you should! Our first real chat in all these years. Do you realize that? Furthermore, I won't have you calling me 'Mr. Tycott' another moment. It's Jonas."
Tanya's head suddenly felt light. She wished she hadn't been so nervous before coming. Al ready, she was having to concentrate on each syllable when she spoke. He handed her the glass.
"Got it? It's really not that heavy," he said.
"Gracious!" she exclaimed. "You'd think I'd never had a drink before!"
She placed it on the coffee table.
"I'm a bit of a record collector," Jonas declared, pretending to ignore her discomfort. "I love the big band sound. Wish they'd come back, don't you?"
"Ummmm!" Tanya agreed.
"Here's one I was listening to just as you arrived. Remember it?" He moved to the stereo as he spoke, and, suddenly, a softly muted trumpet filled the room. The sound, seemed to be all around Tanya. "Three speakers," he announced proudly, as he advanced toward the couch.
The lovely sound wailed mournfully. Humming the tune, Jonas extended his hands toward Tanya. "Come on. Just for memories' sake. Really can be lonely for some of us, can't it?"
Tanya's heart went out to the man in this big empty house. She stepped around the coffee table and into his arms. They danced silently, listening to the music and to their own thoughts. She thought she understood why he was holding her at arm's length from his body.
He's thinking of his wife and of other Saturday nights. The poor man ... All his wealth, and he's the poorest man I know....
Her sympathy made her move a step closer to her partner.
It was all the encouragement he needed. From the moment she'd walked into his house, he'd had to fight with himself not to act impulsively. She'd sat there on that couch, her superb silhouetted figure in seductive detail, knowing that he knew every muscle hidden beneath that sexy dress. Now, at last, she was inviting him!
The pressure of his cock, thundering against his jockeys, was killing him. His hand dropped to the button on his smoking jacket just before he pulled her close. He wanted her to feel all of him. With a sweep, he led her through a graceful turn, putting just the right amount of pressure on the small of her back.
For a brief instant, Tanya was mystified as he pressed her close to his body. Then she felt it. Pulsing ... hard! Not trusting herself to words, she put her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Silently, they swayed in time with the music, Jonas holding her tight against his rigidity until the last note.
As the song ended, Tanya broke from the embrace and swung toward the coffee table. "Say nothing," a voice inside her urged. He was thinking of his wife.
The vodka was a momentary escape from having to speak. For a few long seconds, she stood sipping the drink, her back to him, hoping that he would compose himself-or at least be the first to say something. Her glass was empty when he broke the silence.
"I'm sorry, Tanya. I forgot myself."
To break the tension, she swung brightly, and a bit unsteadily, toward him and extended her glass. "It's forgotten. I think men have bigger problems than women sometimes." It didn't sound the way she had intended it to, and she was grateful when he strode toward the bar without answering, returning with a fresh drink. She knew that if she was ever going to propose the lodging for Chad, it had better be now. "I guess I was thinking about another man's problem when I said that," she began.
Then she hurried into the story of the returnee from the war, named Chad Williams. He was a hard worker and down on his luck. She lied, and said that her agency was interested in giving him a chance. In the breaking-in time, she added, he needed a place to stay.
"I thought with only one man for all these grounds, you might be able to use him, and perhaps let him stay on the estate until he gets a foothold in his work."
Tanya had thought about her proposal to Jonas all during that day. She was sure his first question would be where on the grounds the man would live. Then she planned to propose the garage gatehouse. If Jonas hadn't had a plan of his own, it might have worked.
His face had been a dark study as he listened to her description of this man whose welfare so concerned her. Immediately, he read her request as having sexual connotations. Competition! "I understand," he said, when she had finished. His face wore a reassuring smile. "The man is in what we call an 'interim period.' "
Tanya nodded, and took a needed sip of vodka. "Well, I simply wouldn't hear of asking a man of his quality to serve about the grounds as a hired man." His face suddenly brightened. "I know just the thing. He will be my guest. Right across the way." He nodded toward the pool side of the house. "He can have the run of the guest wing until he gets himself settled."
"Oh, Jonas, that would be an im ... immop ... an im...." The room seemed to be moving around her in two concentric circles.
"An imposition? Not at all. Consider it settled. Come! I'll show you where he'll stay."
"See!" Her host's finger was pointing ahead of them as they walked past the pool toward the door just beyond the terrace. "He can step from the bedroom directly out here for a swim."
Jonas' arm slipped from her elbow and encircled her waist, as they walked along the edge of the pool. His words sounded very indistinct and distant, and Tanya strained to sort them out. "I think he'll be very comfortable in here, don't you?" he asked, leading her into the spacious bedroom with its double bed.
Tanya didn't even hear the question as she stood staring, numbly, into the semidarkness of the room. Something had gone entirely wrong, but at the moment she couldn't decide what. Then, she felt Tycott's gentle hands resting on her hips.
"Are you all right, my dear?" The voice was solicitous. Or was it syrupy? She couldn't decide. "Stretch out a bit, my dear," he said, and she welcomed the hand that led her to the edge of the bed.
From deep within, she felt a momentary shock when she felt his fingers slip beneath her hair and grope for the zipper of her dress.
"I ... I can...."
"No. Let me," the voice insisted.
"Why can't I seem to move?" she wondered aloud.
"You'll be all right."
The tone sounded reassuring, and she offered no resistance to the fingers drawing the zipper down her back. Vaguely, she felt the flutter of the dress as it tumbled from her shoulders. The room was still and Tanya lay quietly, trying to listen, half-awake, half-comatose.
Moments later, a voice called. "Tannnnnnya! Are you awake?" It was an evil, haunting sound.
She tried to turn her head, but it wouldn't turn. Then, squarely into her line of vision, the man paraded. Jonas Tycott! But not the Jonas Tycott she thought she knew. The man before her was stripped naked, boldly brandishing his sexual equipment as he stood above her.
Without another word, he fell beside her on the bed and groped feverishly at her garter belt. Inarticulate sounds of protest spilled from her lips as she felt the hose pulled slowly down her legs.
"Beautiful!" he said. "Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"
There was a maniacal quality in his voice. He was bending across her, and she could see his eyes as they moved. The pupils were black, dilated circles of lust, surrounded by whites that were bloodshot at the comers. She was certain the man had gone out of his mind.
"I want to see all of you!" His hands plunged at her wide hips and tugged savagely at the edges of her black silk panties. Tanya felt her buttocks and waist lift from the mattress momentarily. Then the silk shredded.
"I knew you looked like that!" The man's words came with a hiss. He was staring at the dark tri angle of her pubic forest. "Cunt! Sweet, honeyed cunt!"
His head disappeared from view. She felt his hot breath on her legs, and then his grasping fingers. "Pink! Pretty pink and all for me!"
A demanding tongue jabbed into the exposed crevice and, in spite of the nightmares, a wild tingle swept over Tanya's body as the dart danced against her clitoris.
A flood of awareness suddenly charged through her benumbed mind: The man is mad with loneliness! Help him! For your own life, help him!
She struggled to her elbows and looked at the thinning gray hair across the top of the head that was burrowing frenziedly between her legs. All at once, her thoughts were crystal-clear. "Jonas!" she called huskily. "You've missed some of my best parts."
The crazed licking slowed. Uncomprehending eyes stared at her across the flat of her belly. With wanton deliberateness, Tanya's hands moved across the well-filled bra and toyed at the center of the material, pointing the way to new targets.
"Yes!" he choked. "Yes! I want to see them all bare and sticking out!" His trembling fingers were at her back. A second later, Tanya's bared breasts and nipples burst into view.
She tumbled back to lie totally nude before him. Then, she began a slow writhing, inviting him with her eyes and her roving hands to see all that she had to offer. He rocked back on his heels, clutching his erection, dumbfounded at the turn of events. She appeared to be begging for his next assault.
"Hot-cunted bitch!" he squealed, throwing a leg across her middle and straddling her body. His hands were rough as they seized her breasts and massaged their white firmness. "You're going to give all this to him, aren't you?" he bellowed.
"Who?"
"Your sweet little Chad! He puts his prick all over you, doesn't he?"
Tanya gambled. The man was beside himself from loneliness and jealousy. "Yes ... oh, yes! He does it to me everywhere. And when we're in this room, we'll be doing it every chance we get. Do you mind?" She shrieked the confession, underlining it with convulsive body heaves against the buttocks that rested on her midriff.
"Chad's not here!" screeched Jonas. "I'm here! And right now I'm gonna titty fuck you ... titty, TITTY!"
He shoved forward across her chest and rammed his long shaft deep into the crevice of her breasts.
"Oooohhh ... Jonas ... Tanya pretended a mounting passion.
"I'm in Chad's beddy ... doin' it to his wommm ... ohhh!" His ejaculation shot hotly through the cleavage of her breasts and rained wild juice across her neck and against the underside of her chin.
Tanya remained very quiet beneath him when his orgasm subsided. He'd had his fun. The next words would have to be his. Tycott leaned back, staring into her eyes with a strange, bewildered look, as he sucked deep, gasping breaths of air.
"I ... oh, God!" His voice broke, and he dragged himself away from the bed.
"Will you tell?" he asked finally.
Tanya's hand slipped to touch his. All at once, she pitied this man who had so much and, at the same time, so little. "No one," she promised. "I'd better go."
"Can I watch you dress?" he asked. She nodded.
That was all. His flaccid penis began to stretch and stiffen when she bent to guide her breasts into the cups of her bra, but he made no move to touch himself. She crumpled the garter belt and hose, stuffing them into her purse, lest the action of putting them on inflame him further. Then, when she had zipped the dress and stepped into her heels, she looked at him with a quiet smile. Her head was throbbing, but her thoughts were controlled.
"I hope you find someone who's right for you soon." She whispered the next words. "I have." Then she turned to the door and left.
When she left the guest wing, he was still seated at the edge of the bed, a strange smile on his lips.
Chad was ecstatic when he called Tanya at the agency early Monday afternoon.
"Dick thinks he can get me some auditions before the end of the week!" he said. "He likes my voice and the pictures. Baby, I think were going to pull it off!"
"Wonderful, Chad! Have you eaten yet?"
"Not a bite ... just my fingernails."
"Good. Neither have I. Let's meet in the coffee shop downstairs."
Over sandwiches, Tanya told Chad of the offer by Jonas Tycott to use the guest wing at the manor. She had a nearly impossible time not telling him about the incredible behavior of the man, but she knew that Chad would want to kill him, if he heard the truth. "He was very nice," she lied. "He wouldn't hear of your working on the grounds. Said it would be an honor to have you as his guest while you're getting squared away."
"Think he knows about us?"
Tanya nodded. "But he approves, too. I'm sure."
Chad lifted his coffee and, resting his elbows on the table, looked across the rim of the cup at her. "Good! Can we get together up there as soon as I move in? I need you so badly, I'm about to bust."
Tanya remembered Jonas' jealous outburst Saturday night. She decided it would be better to meet at the gatehouse for a while.
"I think Angel has to go back to the library tonight," she said. "Then we'll be alone."
Angel masked her surprise when Chad returned from the city with her mother. The moment the two of them stepped into the apartment, she recognized him as the man she'd seen on the floor in front of the fireplace, offering his male wealth to Tanya's lips. Suspicion surged through her when her mother announced that Mr. Tycott would be having Mr. Williams as his guest for a while.
"I'm pleased to meet you," she said, when Chad extended his hand.
Supper conversation was light as Angel talked about her day. She seemed determined to dominate the conversation.
"Did Mommy say you were in Vietnam, Mr. Williams?"
Chad nodded.
Angel looked at the table thoughtfully. "Did you ever kill a man while you were there?"
Chad studied the lowered lashes and the suddenly quieted mood of the girl. "Yes," he answered softly.
The blonde head slowly raised and she looked at him. "I think it's much better to love than to kill, don't you?"
For a reason he couldn't quite grasp, his answer was important to her. "Sometimes you don't have an option," he replied.
Shortly, supper was finished and, while Chad helped Tanya clear the table, Angel busied herself in her room. She timed her call for the moment when she knew that her mother was busy at the sink.
"Can somebody help me?"
Tanya raised her eyebrows and looked at Chad. "Could you go? I think she's trying to make an impression."
Chad groaned. "Like this?" He nudged close to Tanya's back, and she felt the jab of his erection against his pants. "I need you so much, I'm about to die!"
She shivered with excitement. "Think clean thoughts for one whole minute. Then you'll be all right."
"My thoughts are clean, damn it!"
A moment later, his condition quieted, he appeared at the door of Angel's room. "Where are; you?" he called.
"In here," came the answer from Angel's bathroom. "And soaking wet. Mommy must have thrown my towels in the dirty clothes. Would you j get me one from the linen closet?" She opened the j bathroom door wider than necessary and pointed! to the closet by her dresser. Chad caught the flash! of a graceful arm and shoulder.
"This do?" He was approaching the bathroom! when Angel opened the door wider. For a brief moment, he caught sight of a gorgeous breast and; the turn of a wild, wonderful hip. "Catch!" he laughed, heaving the towel at the opening and turning on his heel to retreat. He was sure she had seen him blush.
The girl asked her mother for the car keys a few moments later. The minute the apartment door was closed, Chad grabbed Tanya and drew! her close to his body. "Woman, I don't know if you've ever been raped standing up, but you're about to be!"
Tanya's temperature had soared even higher than his in the last, painful minutes before Angel had left for the library. "She always stays till it closes," she told him, while she let him pull her toward the bedroom.
He hurried from his clothes while she dropped! her dress and flung herself on the bed. "I feel like I could come and come, and never stop coming!" he panted as he joined her.
"You talk too much!" Tanya gasped.
Her whole body was in torment. She writhed, waiting for him to enter, wanting him to take her without any preliminaries. She wanted him to drive his great, long cock deep into her vagina and possess every inch of her in a screaming orgasm.
Not twenty yards away, just beyond the still opened door to Tanya's bedroom, Angel stood listening. As soon as she had passed through the stone gates onto the road, Angel had made a U turn and slid silently to a stop at the estate entrance. Without a sound, she tiptoed up the stairs and through the apartment door. Just as she knew she would, she heard the sounds from the bedroom.
"I ... gotta ... Tanya ... darling, I can't wait, ... I can't!" Chad's abandoned groans of hysteria burst through the bedroom door, accompanied by his lover's own delighted cries.
The girl strained to hear the whispered exchange between the two on the bed. Then she heard her mother, "Chad, it's so huge! Ohhh, Chad, do it to me ... break me! Take me!"
The furious protest of the bedsprings mounted as Chad drove Tanya into the sheets. Again, the rising crescendo of their love cries broke off sharply as the second orgasm crested.
"I don't believe it, Chad! You're still as hard as a rock!"
Angel bit savagely at her wrist and pressed back against the wall as the sound of intercourse intensified. Her mother! Giving herself over to this creature who would be living on the very same property with them.
She flung herself down the apartment stairs and out to the car. With total disregard for the curves en route to the library, she floor boarded the accelerator. She wanted to get as far as possible from the words she had just heard.
For hours, she stared emptily at the book before her on the reference room table in the library. Her mind ran over what she had seen and heard from Mr. Chad Williams. Somewhere, sometime, she would find the way to get to him and destroy that relationship!
The image of the two people on the floor by the fireplace, when she had first seen Chad, seared at her thoughts. He was pure stallion! From what she had heard just now, he was tireless. She thought of her mother, probably this very minute, groaning with joy, and letting that huge prick divide her right through the middle.
She wondered why just thinking of that grotesque length of meat made her itch madly in the most impossible place.
"Studying hard, I see!" Danny's face had a sly smirk.
Almost unconsciously, the blonde had been I doodling in her notebook as she thought. With a J gasp, she snapped the notebook closed and looked up at the man.
"I hate snoops!" she snapped.
"Me, too," agreed Danny. "Hey, gotta guy in my crate out in the lot who'd like to see you. Told him you'd likely be down here."
"Who?"
"The reluctant virgin. He brought his rod with him and he wants to use it."
He left her, and Angel waited a moment before she returned her book to the reference desk.
There was little conversation when she reached the car. The rendezvous was a well-established custom-the male at the wheel, keeping an eye open for campus fuzz, while the two in back played.
"He wanted to give it to you sitting on his lap," laughed Danny when Angel crawled into the back seat. "I told him he'd bust you to pieces with that artillery he wears."
The blonde wasted no time in finding out. "Bust me, baby!" she pleaded.
She gripped the thickness of Glen's shaft. Torturously, she milked upward, maddening the sensitivity of the protruding ledge with dancing fingers.
Angel could see the glitter of the man's eyes as he threw his head against the upper ledge of the seat and let her play with his cock. She smiled an evil smile. "Have to have it now, don't you?"
The novice's answer was an uncontrolled writhing and a frenzied groping for the panties beneath Angel's miniskirt. A second later, the girl was leaning across the front seat and shifting to arch herself above Glen's prick.
"Th ... that way?" Glen thought for a minute that she was inviting his invasion of her anal hole, in the fashion that he had seen her taken at the gym.
"Got an even better way ... for a girl," panted Angel, guiding the massive softness of the phallic tip toward the tender lips of her quim. She settled back very slowly and the spear drove into its target. "It pulls my trigger like mad! This ... this way ... ooohhh!"
The line of attack rammed against the brutalized clitoris, and, almost at once, Angel began to climax. "Keep ... keep going!" she begged, when the boy's hip action slowed at the first signs of her orgasm. He needed no urging, and, for several frenzied moments, the blonde's body was racked with unstoppable climax spasms. After a second geyser had flooded her from the in-driven spike, she felt Glen begin to soften. The girl groaned with despair that the fun was about to end. Through it all, the image of another male had danced before her eyes-Chad Williams!
Danny, behind the wheel, had been scant inches from Angel's face, watching as her chain orgasm mounted. The girl liked to have an audience. Now Danny shook his head in awe. "You are one wild witch!" he breathed at the face turned toward his.
Angel was resting her cheek on the ledge of the seat.
"Where'd you learn?"
"Everything I am, I learned from you," she teased.
"No, seriously!"
The girl brushed a tumbled lock from her eyes and looked at the driver. "You'll laugh," she accused.
"Promise, I won't."
The blonde shifted from Glen's lap and rested back against the cushion of the rear seat. "All right, I'll tell you. Soon as I was old enough to know what cute things boys have, I saw what my Mommy was missing."
"Your mother?"
Angel nodded. "She has this fabulous body and she's never used it." The girl paused and her face was sober. "Practically never. Anyhow, I looked at her and at myself. You know, we even look alike." Danny nodded.
"Well, I just said to myself, 'Angel, baby, that ain't your bag.' And it hasn't been. I've learned everything I can about sex and, before I'm old and wrinkled, I'm going to have it in every crazy, wonderful way I can! The wilder, the better."
"Crazy!" murmured Danny.
Angel shrugged. "Better'n some people's ideas of how to live. Nobody gets hurt, and a lot of people get happier by makin' me happy!"
Danny reached for the door handle. "C'mon, Glen, you're on guard duty. I gotta make a little girl happy!"
CHAPTER SIX
Two months sped quickly by, and, with each passing week, Angel watched her mother grow, more completely, the property of Chad Williams.
They left for the same run into the city each morning, and usually returned together at the end of the day. There was a new attitude about Chad. Dick Baker was sending his new client to audition after audition. Already, Chad had scored two commercials, and now he was under consideration as the regular announcer for a leading antiseptic.
"Lord, was I nervous!" he reported to the two at the supper table that night. "The sponsor wants an 'older' sound, and it's the first time I've had to read script with meter to it."
"How did it go?" asked Tanya.
"Terribly! I have to pace it to match the script to the visual frames."
"Want me to help you work it through tonight?"
"That'd be great. Why don't we go up to my room for a while?"
Angel slapped her napkin on the table. "It sounds perfectly easy to me! I really don't see all the fuss about a one-minute commercial!" She flounced from the table toward her room.
Chad shook his head when he heard the bedroom door slam. "I'm sure not cutting it with her, am I?"
"You will," Tanya replied. "It's just that she hasn't seen a man around the house very much. Know what I think would be a good idea? Why don't you come back here early every once in a while? I'm sure that if Angel could get a chance to talk to you, without her mother listening in, it would be good."
In her bedroom, Angel could hear the voices from the other room. She smiled craftily when she heard Chad agree to the suggestion.
A little later, her mother called to her. "Angel, I'll be back in a bit. I'm just going up the hill with Chad."
"Okay ... have fun." Angel had a pretty good idea how much time would be spent on the commercial script that evening. In two months, the pair had found a reason to be together every evening.
The apartment door closed, and Angel hurried to her mother's bedroom. She knew just where her mother kept it-in the bottom drawer of the dresser. The blonde scooped under the undies and bras and felt the smooth surface of the glossy.
A few minutes later, she was lying naked across the bedspread, staring at the picture of a wild Chad Williams, gripping his stud-length pole as he advanced toward the camera. Angel fingered through her warm cuntlips as she studied the man's cock and balls.
"Baby! Baby!" she cried, as she groaned, minutes later, in self-stimulated climax.
Two days later, early in the afternoon, Chad called Tanya at the agency. His voice was downcast as he reported that he had been dropped for the big commercial.
"All those beautiful residuals," he groaned.
"But look how far you've come already!" Tanya enthused. "Lots of people never get their first call until they've auditioned twenty or thirty times. You've already hit on four!"
"Baker sounded disappointed in me," worried Chad.
"That's just his way. He's probably spent his ten percent already. You're his brightest find in a long time. He told me."
"Gotta knock down a big one real soon. I'm going to get you off that reception desk and make you Mrs. Chad Williams before snow falls."
"Chad, you're awful! Do you realize that that's the first time you've proposed, and someone's coming this way? Darn!"
"Tell me you'll marry me ... right now! Heck with the public!"
"I will," she answered.
"What?"
"One moment, sir." Her voice was formal as she gave him the impersonal hold and he heard her talking to the caller at her desk. A minute later, she was back.
"Now. What was that matter you wished to discuss, sir?"
"Your marriage, damn it! To me!"
"I'll make a note of it right here. Perhaps we can discuss it tonight," she teased.
"I'm going home," Chad said. "See if I can get on a little better footing with Angel."
"Good idea! See you tonight."
The apartment was empty when Chad arrived. He wondered if Angel had twirling practice or something else after classes. It was the first time he'd been alone in the apartment, and, for a while, he wandered from room to room, remembering all the things that had happened there in the two brief months. In the kitchen, he popped open a beer and strolled into the living room to flop before the TV. He spun the channels aimlessly, listening more to the commercials than to the afternoon programming.
"Shoulda stayed in town," he said aloud. "Might have been a chance for some mileage at Dick's."
The beer finished, he suddenly felt tired. He wanted to lie on Tanya's bed, but then remembered their pact. When Angel was around, he would stay out of the bedroom, except to use the bath. The girl might come home from school while he was sacked out. A minute later, he was asleep on the davenport.
When Angel arrived home half an hour later, she entered the apartment silently. At the sight of Chad sleeping on the couch, she smiled triumphantly. It was the early return she'd been expecting, since overhearing the after-supper suggestion from Mommy. That she should find him sleeping was a stroke of luck.
She slipped to the davenport and stood studying the prone figure. Tie-less, shoes off, shirt unbuttoned, he was the picture of relaxation. Except at his groin! Angel wondered if the man was dreaming in his sleep. His head lolled slightly to one side, and a low-pitched murmur of contentment slipped from his lips.
She watched the trembling length pushing against his pants leg. The man was formidable, even under cloth!
Quietly, she stepped from her loafers and tiptoed to her room. There, she stripped and, for a few seconds, posed before her full length mirror. Then, nymph-like, she darted from her room to the darkroom beyond the kitchen. Methodically, she gathered the gear she needed-camera, tripod, shutter lanyard, and extra flashbulbs.
When she reached the side of the couch, she studied his figure again. Chad was sleeping deeply, except for that restless rod. One hand drooped limply toward the floor. Carefully, she slipped the cup of the bra she had brought with her into the bend of his fingers. She listened to the regularity of his breathing, then hurriedly set up her equipment, blessing the dull hours she had spent learning photography from her mother. Finally, she was satisfied with the image of the man before her.
She looked at her nudity in the mirror at the side of the davenport and smiled with satisfaction. Almost perfect. Too perfect! Hurriedly, she ran her fingers through her length of blonde hair.
She looked again. An errant lock curled crazily across her right eye. No doubt that she had been romping.
Carefully, she slipped gentle fingers under the man's belt buckle, found the zipper, and pulled it slowly toward his crotch. Just as she suspected, he wore trunks instead of jockeys. She waited, listened, then reached slowly into the gap of the pants and groped. An instant later, the dream-driven erection was standing in a massive perpendicular away from his body, trembling and stiff.
Angel could scarcely breathe. If he should wake and see her naked at his side with the camera. The hint of a contented snore reached her. Quickly, she bent to bring her lips just a scant fraction of an inch away from the great vermilion top of the man's penis.
Her mouth was opened wide, and her body strained with excitement, when she triggered the camera shutter. Perfect! No one could doubt that the newcomer in her mother's life was offering his body to her daughter!
Picture after picture, without touching him, Angel invented angle after angle for herself and her unconscious lover. Finally satisfied, she emptied the camera and returned the gear to the darkroom, secreting the film under a clutter of miscellany in a catchall box under the darkroom table.
Moments later, she was back at the side of the couch. Now she wanted more than a charade! She smiled at the curious curve of the now slightly deflated penis. Apparently, the man's dreams had turned toward other directions. A cacophony of voices pounded inside the girl. This was the man who was luring her mother's affections away from her. He was even an admitted killer in the war. She stared intently at the bent phallus. God, it's beautiful! another voice screamed inside.
Unable to stay the impulse, she reached tentatively to touch the side of the limp length. Bolder now, she moved a finger to trace lightly along the protruding line of the dorsal vein.
Instantly, the cock began to stretch. It lengthened ... thickened ... hardened! The miracle of the erection always awed Angel. Chad's was pure stud-beauty!
She remembered the sight of her mother with this mountain of rigid muscle buried in her mouth. What did Mommy know about fellatio? Angel had gratified more than a hundred boys and men with her lips. She had learned every nuance, every tactile point-the whole symphony of the suck-off!
Wary of the impulse to dive at the target, Angel barely brushed the velvety skin of the crown. The mushroom expanded even further. Again, the low snore, accompanied this time by a light moan escaped from Chad's lips. Ever so gradually, Angel widened her lips to take more and more of the richness of his shaft into her mouth. Millimeter by millimeter, it disappeared into the warmth of her mouth. It was a savage test of her self-control.
At last, she had the whole of his crimson cap fully inside, and now the gentle contractions of her cheek muscles began their slow tightening. No tongue play I It would surely wake him. For long minutes, the girl employed the tenderest suction, gradually intensifying the action.
Now, a pulsing began to heighten along the cylinder held lightly by her thumb and forefinger.
"Ummm...." Still asleep, Chad began to grind a response from his hips.
It was time!
Angel's bps tightened their pouting trap. Now her tongue began to lick with tantalizing sweeps along the underside of the ledge. The pulsing was pounding at a furious rate! She bobbed furiously in time to the savage stroke of her now-clenched fist along the shaft.
"Ahhh! Wha...?" Chad swirled out of the clouds of sleep, uncomprehending at first; then frantically aware that he was over the threshold and in the grip of an incredible orgasm. Powerless to move his head, his whole body went rigid as the paralysis swept him.
"Yes! Yes! Tanya, DO IT!" he gasped, letting himself go under the magnetic spell of the sensation. His discharge sprayed a wild barrage against the roof of his seducer's mouth. A whirlpool sensation swept over his body as the clasping muscles, munching lips, and dancing tongue dragged and siphoned his deepest reservoirs of ejaculatory joy.
"Tanya ... Tanya, darling!" he choked in the aftermath of the all-compelling feeling.
His hand crept from the floor toward the body of his welcome assailant. His head was still thrown back against the pillow, and now his fingers crept across the bared flank of the woman he thought was Tanya. Tenderly, his fingers moved across Angel's back to her shoulders, massaging gently.
There was an indefinable difference in the texture of the skin. Then his touch reached the nape of her neck, moved lazily forward, and brushed the pendant earring. Tanya didn't wear that kind!
"What the hell?"
Chad roared and staggered to his feet, tripping and tumbling across the figure crouched close to the couch. "Angel!" His face was a study in consternation.
"Wasn't I better than Mommy?" There was a look of cat-like satisfaction about her, and not the slightest sign of dismay at his reaction. She'd known it would go that way.
Chad caught at his middle and shoved his penis from sight. Then he bent and grabbed the girl under her arm. A shower of questions swept over him. Where did she learn what he felt in those last seconds? Why? Why did she do it? Was this child some kind of a nympho?
"Let go!" yelped Angel, suddenly dashing to her bedroom. The oak door crashed heavily as she slammed it behind her.
"Angel!" thundered Chad, trying the handle. The door had a snap-lock. He hammered an outraged fist against the wood. "Angel, you open this door!"
There was a childish giggle from the other side. "Does lover-boy want another look?"
Chad was silent. Nothing made sense! Lord, those educated lips! She knew just what she was doing. And that look on her face afterward.
"I want to look, all right! I want to look at your face when I tell your mother!"
He felt as though the whole world was coming unstuck.
'I'll unlock it if you promise to wait until I tell you, you can come in," cooed Angel unexpectedly. "And if you promise not to beat me up."
The shudder traveled violently from Chad's scalp to his toes. Did the girl really believe he had the capacity for that kind of thing?
"Of course, I won't beat you up!" The dejection he felt radiated in his voice. "Just tell me when to come in."
Strangely tense, the words came jerkily. "You ... can come ... in ... Chad."
Chad turned the door knob and peered into the room.
A golden goddess of youthful passion stretched j in nude abandon across the burgundy bedspread! Her blonde hair lay in sexy disarray across her shoulders, and a single curl followed the curve of her left breast, crossing the outspoken nipple to partially hide it. Nothing else was hidden. There was no way for Chad to do anything but stop transfixed, midway across the room to the bed.
The look in her eyes held him motionless. Her arm lay across the sleek plateau of her tummy, and her palm curved across her mons. Her index finger stabbed through the cleft of her cunty lips. There was no movement as he gaped at the nearly buried finger.
"Come close," she commanded huskily. "Look at my mouth."
"Angel," pleaded a dumbfounded Chad, "don't ... please ... what is that?" He gaped at the trickle drooling from the corner of her mouth as he stood at the side of the bed.
"It's you." Her tongue drifted to collect the moisture. "You shot a very big load of cum, Mister Man."
Chad fought the inner tingle, but there was no contest. His response was deep and animal, and with no chance to contain it, his phallus went rock hard along the inseam of his slacks.
The girl seemed to sense her victory. "Now you watch me, Mister Man," she murmured. "I'm going to drive myself out of my mind right in front of your eyes. Always wanted to do it with a man watchin'!"
Her body writhed in helpless response to her finger, just inside the threshold of her vagina. Her breasts surged tempestuously as her back arched to the erotic torture. Her head turned violently from side to side, while the emotion built. Tendrils of light hair whipped to and fro as she wriggled to the sensations. A second finger drove through her pussy cleft, and now the dark line was splayed open. Chad stared at her, helplessly trapped by the magnetism of the pink flesh just inside her labia.
"See it ... see it!" Angel panted. "You can see my clitty, can't you?"
"Oh, my God ... my God!" Chad covered his eyes with sweating palms and the perspiration stung fiercely. His head swam and he felt the rush of vertigo.
"Look, Chaddy! Look at me!"
He looked.
There, in the middle of the burgundy satin spread, he saw sheer feline want in Angel's eyes. Her masturbation stopped and she speared a finger at him, the very finger that had been playing in her vagina. "Take ... off ... your ... clothes!"
"Whuhh ... Angel ... plee-"
"Everything! You know you want to, and you know I'll do something terrible if you don't!"
Her eyes said that she was perfectly capable of any act, especially the terrible, and, not knowing if that was the reason, or if he simply wanted to, Chad stripped "I do not believe you!" breathed Angel, when he stood naked and self-conscious at the bed side. "That beautiful thing is top heavy, it's so long! Come closer." She squirmed on her back, and now her finger was prowling again through the fascinating magnet of her sex cleft.
"It's gorgeous, being stared at while I do myself." Her arm was moving quickly, and the finger shot to and fro through the tiny slit.
All reason left him when he saw the wanting in her lovely face. Her eyes pleaded, and her lips ovaled in invitation. When her fingers curled across his hardened shaft, Chad was gone.
"I want to love it while I take care of myself, since you won't help me," she murmured.
Her timing was orchestrated perfectly. The instant his huge phallic crown went into her oral port, Angel's warm, moist lips clamped around the thick protruding ledge and he felt the start of frenzied sucking. Cock-crazing wonderful! He knew that in seconds he would be pouring a fresh rain shower of his cum into that puckered oral pit, and he fought the wild desire to let it fly.
His eyes swept over her squirming body, and he saw her fingers busily maddening her clit. Then he felt the tremors start. She had herself at the edge of her crest, and that seemed to Chad an incredible wrong. By a weird twisted chemistry, he charged to the only conclusion: he had let her take his penis through one aperture, why not through the one that would give her true joy? In a fractionalized second, the cunt-crazed logic had him totally captive, and he was kneeling across the side of the bed, into the valley between her legs.
"Damn you, Angel! You know I want to help you ... help you ... that's all!"
"Chad ... oohhh, Chad, I know!"
Her tears looked like shimmering diamonds on her cheeks, and that convinced him that it was right and selfless, though God only could guess what Tanya would say were she here to see!
Whipping the uncomfortable thought from his mind, he leaned across Angel's body and guided his horny cap to the tender edge of her vulva. It looked smaller than it had when she was stimulating herself with her finger. Good Lord, maybe she's still a virgin!
The thought screamed at the last instant, even as the glans penis pressed through the first tender labial gates. She could be virgin! Helplessly, his will surrendered to the urgency of his rampaging erection, and he gawked as the fat crimson of his cock disappeared through an incredibly stretched cunty cleft.
"Angel ... Angel, baby ... have you ever been...." His voice was rasping with mixed terror and desire. "Have you ever had a man before ... luh ... like ... this?"
Sheer joy flooded Angel at his ridiculous question. Chad really meant it! He was a nice guy, horrified that he could be taking her virginity.
"Course not!" she gasped, and her frightened expression convinced her now out-of-control lover. "You ... you're the very first and, oohhh ... take me! FUCK ME!" She thrust her buttocks violently away from the mattress as she cried the command, and, abruptly, Chad's prick shaft was buried in the tight trap of her vagina, nearly to mid-stem.
"Do!" she screamed, as he hesitated in shock at her confession. "You have to be the first! FUCK ME!"
It was too beautiful an invitation for any man to resist, and Chad was long-gone in the magic of the vaginal muscles that wrapped around his prick. With an inarticulate bellow, he plunged himself feverishly at the delicious body he thought untried.
The surge was on them almost instantaneously, and, as she felt his ejaculation leap into her body, Angel, screaming her ecstasy, scissored luscious thighs around his waist. In that totally commandeered instant, Chad was ready to surrender forever to the wonderful sensation of taking Angel's virginity.
When the rain shower of his sperm slowed and stopped, there was no retreat of the steel in his phallus, and a contented Angel awaited the renewal again of his copulation. It was the feel of her warm thighs, snug against his waist as she held him prisoner, that stung Chad with a vivid memory. TANYA! This was precisely the feeling that had been his in the afterglow of their first lovemaking. Like mother, like daughter! But he had pledged himself to TANYA!
"Oh, God ... NO!"
He jerked fiercely against the trap of her legs, and, suddenly, he was a free man, lurching from the bed and staggering toward the pile of clothes he had dumped at her command beside the bed.
"Chad!" Angel sat staring as he dragged his slacks over his hips and closed the fly. "Whatever is wrong?"
"You know damned well what's wrong, Angel! It's wrong to your mother and it's wrong to you! No, goddamnit, I did a bad thing, and I'm sorry. I gotta get the hell outta here this second!"
"But, we both want it!" she cried, in a last try to make him stay.
"That won't help me look your mother in the eye when she comes home from work tonight. Goodbye!"
He spun to leave the bedroom, and had almost reached the door, when her unrepressed giggle stopped him.
Slowly, he turned to look at the fantastic figure, sprawled on her back across the burgundy, in much the same position he had found her when he entered.
"You look her in the eye-then I'll show her something that'll make her eyes pop out!" simpered Angel.
He strode militantly to the bedside, the hardness in his slacks softened by his outrage. "You will do what?"
"Ooohhh ... you'll find out soon enough and then it's bye-bye, Chaddy-baby!"
"We'll just see about that!"
Chad stormed from the apartment and strode angrily up the hill toward the manor.
He waited until he was sure that Tanya was home before returning to the apartment. When he arrived, Tanya was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. "I want to talk to you," Chad hissed in her ear.
She dropped her spatula on the counter.
"Mmmm ... Where were you?" It was the first time, since he came into her life, that she had started dinner without him.
"Fell asleep, I guess," he mumbled. "Look, I want to talk."
"That Chad?" called a cheery voice from the room beyond the kitchen. When he didn't answer, Tanya flashed a quizzical look at him.
"Angel's in the darkroom. Said to tell her the minute you arrived."
Chad grunted and walked to the darkroom door. "Can I come in?" he called.
"Enter," a muffled voice answered.
He stepped into the darkness and closed the door. Not even a little red bulb above the table was lit. "Over here." He felt his way toward the voice. A light fragrance hung about the room. "Careful ... you'll trip."
All at once, his hand touched a bare arm. Her hand grabbed his, and guided it quickly downward.
"Ohmigod!" Chad snatched his hand away as though he had touched a red-hot poker. Angel had pressed his fingers squarely across her naked belly!
"Don't go!" she commanded, feeling his shoulders swerve away. "Look what I have for Mommy!"
The red light came on and he stared at the nude figure before him. Her finger indicated the pictures on the drying table.
With a gagging, clutching feeling in his throat, he bent to look at the glossies. "How the ... when
.,. r
"When you were making me do it to you," she said calmly. "This one's especially good."
He stared at the three by five print. It showed Angel's bra dangling from his hand as he lay on the couch, and the blonde, her lips widespread, about to take his erection into her mouth.
"It'll be just beautiful when it's enlarged," her sultry voice said.
Chad made a grab for the photo and Angel made no effort to stop him. "I have the negatives," she said softly. "Here, take these with you. Maybe they'll give you ideas."
She scooped the half-dozen shots from the table, dropped them into an envelope, and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"Next time is for real!" she said very distinctly. "And next time you better cooperate and make a girl happy!"
Very nonchalantly, Angel turned away from the table and reached for her clothes. Chad stared at her, unbelieving. It couldn't really be happening this way.
"This is crazy!" he snorted. "I don't believe it!"
"You better believe it, mister man!"
Tanya was delighted by the change in Angels attitude toward Chad at dinner that night. All the past hostility seemed gone. The girl steered nearly all of her comments and questions toward the one she would scarcely speak to the week before.
"You really did something," admired Tanya when Angel had left for the library. "She told me you were here when she got back today. She seemed so pleased."
Chad was miserable. An envelope that would blow him to hell, if Tanya saw it, was just inside his coat pocket. "Tanya ... look," he began uncomfortably.
She cut him off. "She said you promised to try to get back early tomorrow so you could go for a swim up at the pool with her." She looked gratefully at him. "I think you're wonderful! I know it isn't easy."
Abruptly, Chad rose from the table.
"Look, honey, I'm bushed. Just not with it tonight. I'm going to have to hit the hay. Dick's got me up for two auditions tomorrow."
"I'm worried," she said. "You're trying to go too fast, and you're running yourself into the ground."
"Just need a catch-up night, that's all."
For a long time after he left for the manor house, Tanya sat puzzling at some pieces that didn't seem to fit quite right. She realized that, for all their closeness, she still had a world to learn about this man, this wonderful man who had transformed her life.
Late into the night Chad paced the floor of the guest wing. He couldn't believe that what had happened had happened. The crazy kid really had it in for him!
"Kid? Kid, hell!"
He snarled the words at the emptiness of the guest wing and snatched at the brown envelope she'd stuffed in his jacket. One by one, he looked at the pictures.
"Damn it! She'd know I was asleep! And she'd have to know Angel planned and took these!"
Then he looked at the closed eyes again. "They could have been shut because I was in fuck-heat!" he groaned.
There even seemed to be the trace of a smile in two of the pictures. And that bra dangling from his fingers!
Just to be sure the viewer knew how much Chad Williams had won her affections, Angel had made one last shot. She had arched her back in a dramatic curve, her head and knees supporting her deep contortion, and was staring at the pole-like projection that soared from the man's body on the couch above. One arm was raised toward the cock. The other arm was across her hip and stomach, the hand cupped across her love mound, and two fingers were hidden from sight beneath the vaginal lips. She was brazenly stimulating herself for the camera's eye.
Chad flung the pictures at the bedspread and stormed into the bathroom to douse his face with cold water.
Several minutes later, his face and the front of his shirt still dripping, he stumbled back into the bedroom.
He got very little sleep that night. At seven, his phone rang and he muttered groggily when he picked up the receiver.
"Chad! Aren't you up yet?" It was Tanya. "Breakfast is ready and we have to leave in thirty minutes!"
"Ye gods! I forgot the alarm, Tanya." His head swam as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Look, you go ahead. I feel cruddy. I'll call a cab and come in, in an hour."
"Now, Chad Williams, I want you to take the day off. You sound horrible! I'll call Dick and tell him to scratch the auditions. He'll understand." She sounded worried. "Promise me you'll do it."
Chad fell back on the bed. "Promise," he answered. "Miss me."
He was asleep before she answered.
"Angel, hurry! I've got to dash, but I want you to run up and see if Chad's all right. The goof left his phone off the hook and fell back asleep."
"That's true love." Angel was rubbing her eyes sleepily as she entered the kitchen. "Scoot! I'll take care of him. No classes till eleven today. I'll take him a bowl of soup and maybe have a dip in the pool while I'm up there."
"Thank you, dear." Tanya pressed a quick kiss to her daughter's cheek as she reached to snatch the car keys from the kitchen wall. She paused at the apartment door and looked fondly at Angel. "You do like him more, don't you?"
"Ummm," murmured the girl.
At eight, as he stood at the window of his library, watching Yvette help the children into the day school station wagon, Jonas Tycott saw the shimmer of the blonde hair down at the gatehouse. Angel had just left to walk up the manor drive.
When the wagon pulled away, Jonas stood watching the approaching figure. The girl was carrying a covered dish of some sort. "Lord, what a body!" he said half-aloud. Jonas wondered what the driver of the station wagon thought of the sight.
Angel's sensational figure was clad in the snuggest, smallest panties and halter the man had ever seen. A white lace, filigreed cape did nothing to conceal the golden-skinned wonder of her body.
Tycott was beside himself. She had to be coming to the room of his seldom-seen guest in the wing. The son-of-a-bitch! He must be getting it from both women! He must be sick, and the wench wants to play while Mommy's away.
Jonas dashed from the library. Then he remembered Yvette. She'd be upstairs dressing in her mini-uniform. He pressed the intercom button for her room.
"Yes, monsieur?"
"Yvette, I'll be around the grounds for a while. Do something about the pots in the kitchen this morning, please." He made his voice grim with seriousness.
"Oh ... oui, I do it." She sounded disappointed.
Jonas hurried from the house and circled to the far side of the guest wing. He produced a key, and slipped through an ivy-shrouded door that led to a cobwebbed and darkened passage. He shuddered slightly at the dank clamminess of the small hallway. He groped for the opposite wall. There was a flush-mounted door that opened into the guest room closet. From the guest side, the closet had a louvered door.
Tycott shivered expectantly, and silently blessed his forethought at the time of construction. He'd seen the possibilities, even then, of some freewheeling voyeurism. Since Williams' arrival, he had enjoyed many stimulating hours of watching the man plunge himself into Tanya. Now the play was about to take a new, and unexpected, turn. He waited breathlessly in the darkness of Chad's closet, peering through the slatted door at the form on the bed.
There was a soft knock.
Jonas watched the door open stealthily, and he fought for air when the blonde looked briefly at the closet door as she first entered the room. She couldn't possibly see, he reassured himself. He watched her turn toward the bed and place the saucepan on the end table.
"Are you awake, Chad?" she whispered.
It was obvious the man was sleeping soundly.
As casually as though she visited him this way every day, Angel strolled from the side of the bed to the bathroom. Jonas waited impatiently for her to return to his line of vision. He could hear her humming softly to herself. There was the sound of the shower for a few moments, then quiet.
An eternity later, the door opened silently and Tycott strained to see her as she returned. The moment she stepped into view, now nude and vibrant, the unseen watcher felt his sexuality surge.
Angel moved directly to Chad's bed, and sat nonchalantly on the edge of the mattress, staring hungrily at the man. She was obviously pleased to discover that he was sleeping without pajamas.
Very carefully, she turned back the sheet that covered his body, slowly exposing him as though she had all the time in the world. Jonas saw the white of the man's belly become the dark fringe of hair above his groin. Then the covering continued to slide downward, and the limp penis appeared, formidable even in its quiescent state. The unveiling continued, and, nestling in the crevice of his thighs, were well-filled balls.
Apparently, the blonde was in a momentary quandary about her next step. Her glance darted about the room and fell upon the envelope on the chaise longue. She slipped from the bed and seized the envelope. The voyeur watched her extract what appeared to be pictures. She returned to the side of the bed, smiling happily as she thumbed from one to another of the photos.
A minute later, her gaze was back on the muscled form spread out beside her. She studied his body inch by inch, leaning forward as she examined his chest, straightening as she stared at the man's latent sexual power.
Tycott saw her lips part. A forefinger moved to her tongue and she tapped an already hard nipple with the moistened tip. It was her shiver of excitement that woke the sleeping man.
Tycott had to admire Williams for his cool, even if he hated him for his way with women. There was an almost imperceptible flicker of eye lashes, and the slightest tensing of his body, when he discovered the nude at his side.
"Don't you ever wear clothes?" Chad demanded drily.
Angel was just as cool. "Not when I'm with naked men." Her hand snaked from her hip to his limp tool.
"Quit it," he said flatly. He made no move to cover himself. "Aren't you supposed to be in school or someplace?"
"I have a few cuts left this semester. Seemed like a good day to take them," she answered. Jonas saw her stroke beneath her chin with the pictures she'd taken from the envelope.
"Angel, for God's sake!" Chad heaved to his elbows and stared at the girl.
"Thought I could use the time to run off another set of these. For Mommy."
The hand that had remained at his groin began a slow kneading action, working along the shaft of his penis, exploring the joining of cock and balls.
Chad's voice was pleading. "Look, I don't know how we got off base here, but I ... I love Tan ... "
"Love! What's that? Just a nice word for getting what you want, isn't it?" She paused, breathing heavily. "Well, you can have Mommy, but I want some, too! Or else!"
Chad fell back on the pillow, his mind spinning in a dozen crazy directions. All night, he'd tried to sift it out.
Angel's thumb and forefinger were squeezing, with increasing pressure, at the root of Chad's phallus. She was forcing him to a hard-on! He could feel pin-pricks of sensation creep along the expanding shaft, and he saw the girl's eyes widen as she stared at what was happening.
It was a trick a boy had taught her once, to restore his spent condition. At that very second, the elastic went out of the thickening banana. The man was boasting a magnificent weapon.
She took it as a sign of his surrender. "Ummm! Yummm! Will you look at the head on that!"
Angel bent happily to kiss the man's turbulent prick. "I want to gallop!" she squealed, throwing herself across Chad's legs.
He made no effort to resist as she positioned her crotch directly above his out-thrust spear. "Go ahead. Kill yourself," he muttered, fighting the urge to drive upward and divide the girl in two. He doubted that she could even fit the tip into that tiny, pink cleft between her legs.
Slowly, she settled down on the man's erection, and he felt the heat and moisture of her cunt lips. Before he realized that it had happened, he felt the snugness of her tunnel wrapped around his buried crown, and now she was pumping slightly, deliberately impaling herself!
"Man! Man! Man!" she panted. "You crazy, crazy cock!"
He was snared in a lust trap. Arched regally above him, were the explosive glories of her tits thrust proudly away from her body as she strained in coital frenzy. She was settling further and further down his shaft and struggling to take more.
"I want! Damn you ... fuck me!. Fuck me!"
Angel collapsed across Chad's front. At the same instant, Tycott, his eyes glued to the inflaming scene, sprayed a handmade orgasm against the lower louvers of the closet door.
It was Chad who forced their bodies apart. His own erection still boomed stiff and unyielding away from his body, but now he was staring in awe at his unwanted mistress. "Get out, Angel!" he commanded in a choked voice. "Lord knows, you can turn me on, but you can't make me go all the way!"
She stood away from the bed and looked down at the man contemptuously. "I think you may just change your mind," she said flippantly.
Then, as she wrapped her halter across her still-heaving breasts, she added, "Say, maybe about five o'clock this afternoon."
He lay silent, watching her slip into her bikini panties. His cock was still at rigid attention and he seemed at a loss for words.
Seconds later, Angel headed for the door. I'll be back." Then she noticed the forgotten saucepan on the end table. "Oh, Mommy asked me to bring the soup up. Better take it before it gets cold!" She strolled insolently out of the guest wing door.
Ever so quietly, Jonas Tycott backed out of the guest room closet into the passage behind. Embroiled though he had been in his self-play, his mind had grasped the significance of the scene. Tanya had no idea of her daughter's lust for Chad Williams. Whatever the photographs were, it made no difference. The blonde had the man in her power, and Tycott was ready to wager that William's reluctance to truly take her would be gone when' the girl returned the second time. What an opportunity! It would put Tanya completely in his debt, if Tycott were to get her to witness the next encounter!
He hurried across the yard and into the kitchen entry to the manor. Without a word, he strode past a startled Yvette, who was dutifully polishing the despised pans. Once in his library, he went directly to the telephone.
"Clark Advertising. Good morning. May I help you?"
"May I speak to Tanya Hydom, please?"
"Whom shall I say is calling, sir?"
"Jonas Tycott from Connecticut."
A second later Tanya answered.
"Uh ... Tanya, there's something I simply had to call you about," he began.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tanya still couldn't believe it was really happening. As Jonas had urged, she took a cab from the city and left her car in the office parking lot. The cab dropped her off at the front door of the Tycott house. She watched suspiciously as Jonas told her again the circumstances that drove him to phone. His color heightened as he admitted viewing the whole affair.
"I don't believe you," she said finally, when he had concluded retelling the morning's episode. Her voice, flat and dead, repeated the words, "I don't believe you."
"My dear, I know what this man means to you. I know what Angel means to you. But we must face facts now, mustn't we?"
"I still don't believe what you say."
Jonas glanced at his wrist, stared from his window down the slope toward the gatehouse. Five long minutes of silence crept by.
"Ah! Come here, my dear."
Tanya walked robot-like to the window.
Down the hillside, just emerging from the gatehouse, was a blonde head she recognized instantly. She sucked in her breath and tried to swallow the choking sensation that suddenly welled within her.
"Will you come with me, now?" Jonas asked.
Silently, Tanya turned and followed the man from the room.
He led her across the back lawn, through the ivy-covered door behind the guest house, and into the dampness of the passageway. They stood without a sound, waiting.
Tanya wondered why the roaring in her ears refused to go away. Then, through the back wall of the closet, they heard the voices. Arguing voices at first, the words indistinguishable. Chad's raised in anger, then pleading, then all at once completely stilled.
"Now!" hissed Jonas.
Very carefully, he slid the wall door to the side, and guided Tanya into the closet. It was as though she was at Chad's side, when she bent to peer through the louvers. He was there, on the bed, supine on his back, mounted by the ecstasy-ridden body of her Angel! Tanya bloodied her knuckles to restrain the scream that tried to burst from her lips as she saw the white root plunging between Angel's legs. "Take it then, damn you! Take it!"
Eyes dilated in horror, Tanya heard her lover's words, as he ramrodded his shaft into the girl's body.
"Get me out of here!" Tanya hissed at Jonas.
Her escort swung to lead them through the wall escape, knowing that victory was his at last.
Tanya sagged to the grass the moment they stepped into the open. Like a person possessed, she beat frantically on the ground with clenched fists.
"Why? Why? Oh, God, why?"
Tycott waited until her sobs had subsided, then bent to touch her elbow. "Come, my dear, before you do anything. You must have something to steady yourself."
All at once, a drink sounded like the one thing Tanya needed most. She let the man take her arm and steer her through the kitchen. Neither glanced at Yvette, who stood staring and silent.
It was an hour later. One drink did nothing but tell Tanya that she needed another, and another, and still another.
Tycott was the picture of the solicitous host.
"I know, my dear, I know," he agreed. He had just listened again to Tanya's, now somewhat garbled, diatribe against the two in the guest wing. "Oh, Jonas, you're so patient!"
She put her hand across the distance that separated them on the davenport and touched his sleeve. "What must you think of us?"
He seized the extended hand and held it paternally. His sense of timing told him that she was ready. "I'll tell you what I think of you," he said.
He moved to close the distance between himself and this intensely desirable woman. His leg rubbed lightly against her thigh. She made no move to indicate that his touch annoyed her.
"Please, Jonas, I want to know. How could they do this?"
"It's an old, old story, Tanya." He took both her hands and clasped them inside his own. "You know I have a very deep feeling for you. Both you and your daughter. What we saw in there is a story as old as the story of men. Tragic, perhaps, but nonetheless true. Man has once to live. I speak, of course, in the general sense. Angel has already grasped the truth of this old cliche" Tanya's head swam giddily as she listened to the man's pedantic words. From the moment she walked into the main house, her thoughts had remained in that guest wing bedroom. Vivid in her mind, even now, after trying to induce oblivion through a drink, she could still see that couple on the bed.
"That's what you have to learn to try to do," Jonas was saying.
"How?" she asked dully.
He stared thoughtfully at his glass for a second before he answered. "Well, the kids have a word for it." He paused dramatically.
"What word?"
"Now. That's what they live for. Not tomorrow. Not yesterday. It's a 'now' time, and that's what you've got to remember."
Tanya nodded carefully. Her head felt so heavy that the least move threatened to topple her from the couch. "Are you saying love is old-fashioned, Jonas?"
"My dear! No! If you mean in the sense of one man and one woman, then, for those who can bear it, that's fine. But there are other loves, and other ways of love, in this day and age."
"You mean swap clubs?"
He nodded. "The exchange of husbands and wives is one way. There are many others. Many men gratifying one woman, and many women gratifying one man, is one of them."
"Couldn' be pushuble." Her tongue felt thick and cumbersome.
"Aha! But it is! Would you like me to show you?"
The old apprehension of the last time she was alone with the man gripped Tanya through the alcoholic cloud that surrounded her. He caught the warning look in her eye.
"It's a film, my dear. I'm quite a collector of rare films."
Jonas walked to the wall and pressed a hidden button. The panel rolled back to expose a floor-to-ceiling screen. Seeing her settle back against the sofa cushions for the first time since she had come into his library, Jonas was encouraged.
"Now, I'll just turn on the projector, my dear, and leave, if you'd prefer. It is ... frankly ... rather candid."
At least, it could help drive away the thought of those two in bed in the other room, Tanya thought.
"Shtay, Jonas, I'd like you to." Her fingers touched his as he walked past to turn on the projector.
It was all the encouragement the man needed. Until now, he'd kept a vivid memory of the last time they sat together. He had plied her with drinks and readied her for his conquest, only to be defeated in the end. Now, he was sure it would be different. More than ever, the woman needed what he had to give her, and, before the film was done, she would be hot for it.
The first frames that appeared on the screen electrified Tanya, and she moved in stunned disbelief from the back of the couch to sit tensely at the edge. The film began with the scene of a shapely brunette taking three men at once. The woman lay on her side, her legs wrapped around the waist of one male, who drove his offering through the conventional opening. At her back, rutting into the crevice of the girl's impudent tail, was another sex-driven man. Bent and arched around her head, was yet another, his long shaft partially buried between her lips.
The film editor had begun the sequence at just the moment orgasm seized all four. The soundtrack was perfect, and the woman's muffled cries of mounting ecstasy mingled with the groans and shrieks of the three men as the throes of climax held them.
The animal wildness of the scene wrapped itself around Tanya as she watched. The bestiality, the wanton abandon of the group, made Tanya tremble.
Jonas, who had seen the film a hundred times, stood at the wall bar watching her reaction. He liked what he saw. She was over the edge and ready to surrender to him.
Each sequence grew wilder and more depraved. Homosexuals mingled with heterosexuals, vying with one another to shock the senses of the viewer.
For Tanya, it was an escape from reality to a world filled with strange, uninhibited people. Jonas saw the brightness in her eyes, and interpreted it as the flame of desire. She never took her eyes from the screen as he slipped silently from the room.
Fifteen minutes later he was back, standing just outside the library door, signaling the two behind him to silence. The film ended a moment later.
As the room went dark, Jonas waved to the others to follow. Tanya swung at the sound of Yvette's high-pitched giggle.
Yvette and Hans were naked and unabashed at their master's request that they play with him before an audience. Jonas had changed into a blue silk robe, belted at the waist with a scarlet sash.
"Sit down, my dear!" he exclaimed, smiling at the look of consternation on Tanya's face. "I thought you might have imagined that the film was a pretend world of celluloid love. Believe me, it is not, as my two assistants and I will prove to you!"
Tanya sank to the edge of the cushion and stared as the two servants stepped boldly to Jonas' side and bowed in mock obeisance before the spectator. Hans was wildly aroused and proud of his body. Now, invited to exhibit himself before the woman of the gatehouse, whom he had often admired from a distance, he was in his element. He slipped behind Tycott and moved directly behind Yvette, seizing her at the hip and thigh and propelled her easily above his head.
Jonas clapped his hands once, and Hans lowered Yvette to the floor. The sight had had its effect, and Tanya couldn't suppress her intrigue when the blue-robed master of ceremonies spread his arms at shoulder height as the two moved to his side.
She wondered how she could have been so mad as to come into this man's home again.
"Disrobe me!" he commanded.
Yvette reached to pull the waist sash, and Hans swept the robe from the man's shoulders. Jonas was rock rigid at his groin, his cock dancing as he swayed on his toes and stared at Tanya.
"Now, my lovely, you must join the party."
"Jonas, no! Let me watch...."
Tanya was out of her seat and retreating when the lord of the manor caught her arm. That look was in his face. The same look she had seen the night he took her to see his guest wing.
He was pressing himself feverishly against her dress now, rubbing his shaft against the sleek fabric that covered the smooth curve of her tail. She twisted to move away from the man, and he seized her hips to hold her while he ground himself even more tightly against her buttocks.
Yvette sprang into action, reading Tanya's reluctance as something similar to her own choreographed performance in that French theater.
Yvette was a loner female. Monsieur had said nothing about inviting the beautiful Tanya to join their fun, until just before they entered the library.
"Hans, help monsieur!" Yvette dashed to the library desk where she knew the whip was concealed.
The gardener had often played the game. Now the play had an enticing new performer. He reached for the yoke of Tanya's dress and, with an unholy cry, ripped it from her body.
"The rest, Hans! The rest!" screamed a transported Jonas.
The gardener flung Tanya rudely to her stomach and grabbed roughly at the bra snaps. The cups tore savagely at her breasts as he yanked the nylon from beneath her, rolling her to her back in the act. The garter belt was tom away, and her panties alone remained.
"No! NO!" screamed a petrified Tanya. Suddenly, she understood the script. The trio intended to work their will on her body. She looked pleadingly at Jonas. The man was in another world, fingering his hot erection, as he looked down at the nearly nude woman kneeling at his feet.
It was just at that moment that the lash descended from behind and caught Tanya across the back.
"Ahhh! Please, dear God! NO!"
She writhed to her side and rolled to escape the leather, already sizzling at her, under Yvette's practiced hand. There was no escape. Over and over, the smack of leather on tender flesh sounded around the room.
The sight of the men's preoccupation with the squirming figure on the floor was a frightening experience to Yvette, who had always known center stage. This intruder had a better body, and it was obvious to the maid that her role as favorite was in jeopardy.
"Take her, Hans!" screamed Jonas, dancing excitedly at the edge of the action. The sight of the reddening stripes across Tanya's back both inflamed and sobered him. The torturess was now enjoying her role too much!
Hans fell across the tightly curled body on the floor and pried frantically at the arms crossed above the beautiful breasts.
"I want! I want you!" he gasped, jabbing himself at Tanya's back, trying to spread her legs.
"Stop it!" screamed the agonized woman. Her body was a searing fire. Darting flashes of pain drove through her back, and, as she felt Hans' clawing fingers on her thigh, she wondered why she really bothered to fight the three. What was she protecting, and who cared, and so what?
"I won't!" Tanya screeched, as Jonas leaped to Hans' aid. He grabbed furiously at her other leg, yanking at her knee to pry open the lock to the magic door. Simultaneously, the younger man ripped the panties from her tail. "Stop it! Stop it, you animals!"
She launched herself at the gardener and ripped across his back with raking fingernails.
"Eeeehhh!" Hans tumbled away from the counterattack, writhing in pain on the carpet.
"Hans, I help you!" Yvette three herself protectively across the shoulders of the man, her passion running wild at the sight of drawn blood on one of her playmates. She bent to kiss the man's wounds. The feel of her tongue caressing his pain supercharged his senses. He threw the maid to her back and drove madly between her legs.
At the same instant, rough hands seized Tanya's arms and pulled them behind her body. She felt the bum of the rope as Jonas tied her wrists securely, and shoved her, face downward, against the rug. The ruthlessness of his manner made it clear that he had tired of his campaign to win her with the lure of exhibition.
"Stay, bitch!" he hissed in her ear in a voice reminiscent of the. other time she had frustrated him. "I'll be back, and then you'll beg for it!"
Jonas had just seen Chad walk dejectedly past the library window. He was alone and the picture of defeat.
"The blonde!"
Jonas' animal heat was high as he left the library.
"Where?"
He strode in naked eagerness toward the guest wing.
When Angel had knocked on his door at five that afternoon, Chad thought his mind was made up. He would threaten her with a mutual confrontation with her mother and let the chips fall.
She heard his angry outburst, listened with impudent disdain, and calmly began to undress as he ranted on about juvenile delinquents and about honor between people in love. His purpose weakened as the girl dropped her pants and toned nude and resplendent toward the bed.
"Please, Angel! Please! I'm not made of iron!"
She lay outstretched before him, extending her arms to him. "But you are made of iron, mister man!" she giggled. "In about one second, that iron bar is going to bust your britches!"
When she tumbled onto the bed, Angel's arm slipped beneath the pillow and brushed against the envelope with the pictures. She groped under the pillow and brought the damning envelope with her as she stood again.
"Hold this, will you, iron man?" she asked, waving the envelope.
Chad swatted the pictures to the floor, but stood motionless while Angel removed his clothes. He groaned helplessly as she dropped his shorts.
Chad stumbled from the bed to walk numbly to the window. The panorama that spread toward the sunset was in startling contradiction to the dirt he felt. For a long moment, he stared silently down the hill toward the gatehouse. Everything that had resembled a chance at life was tied up in that place. In one person. And he had blown it!
Angel lay waiting on the bed as he turned his back on the window. Without so much as a glance at the girl, he bent to the floor to retrieve his scattered clothing.
He dressed, staring dully at the fading orange ball on the horizon, and walked silently to the door and out of the bedroom.
The young girl watched, puzzled and uncomprehending. For just a brief instant, she had felt the taste of victory. The man was hers, to destroy or to use as a plaything. Suddenly, the taste had turned to bland nothingness. She slid from the bed to stare after him through the window. He walked slump-shouldered around the front of the manor house, and then up the slope, toward the stand of trees that led to the edge of the estate.
The blonde shrugged. "Men!" she muttered to no one in particular.
She wished that she had worn her bikini on her afternoon return to the guest wing. It was when she looked from the window that she knew a bathing suit was the last thing she needed. Jonas Tycott was standing in the door across the terrace, hands on his hips, staring at the guest wing entry. He was naked, a flaccid penis dangling at his groin.
"Well!" Angel's spirits soared. "We'll just have to do something about that!"
With a quick glance at the mirror, and a hurried brush with her fingers at the tumbled locks that were helter-skelter across her forehead, she stepped out of the bedroom. She knew his eyes were on her body and she chose to be oblivious to his presence.
Walking with voluptuous impudence, she rounded the edge of the pool and stepped onto the diving board.
As familiar as he was with the step, Jonas tripped, and nearly fell, hurrying from the house onto the terrace. The little witch was baiting him. Something had happened that had driven Williams from the room, and now she wanted the master of the manor.
Angel stretched her arms high above her head as she stood tiptoe on the end of the diving board. Every supple, caressable curve was visible. Rich, provocative breasts soared in tantalizing display. She bounced lightly several times to heighten the impact of her sexuality, then she plunged into the water in a long, graceful arc.
She surfaced on her back and floated. With eyes closed, and head thrown back, she glided about, indifferent to the man who stood brandishing his freshly stimulated cock. He saw her fingers drift across the smooth, silken skin of her belly, dancing suggestively across the rise of her pubic mound.
"Ohhh, yes! Do! DO!", he squealed, as the girl's fingertips toyed at the base of her sex triangle.
Her fingers slipped slowly from sight. One ... two ... three. And then that pretty arm began a slow, deliberate pumping.
Tycott was beside himself. Angel's wide, brown eyes had suddenly opened and fixed themselves on his erection.
"'Fraid to come inside me!" she chanted.
She smiled accusingly at the man, as he masturbated with growing frenzy, aiming the burgeoning red head of his phallus at the floating beauty in the water.
Angel was directly beneath him now, and her mocking was only to cover the motions that were beginning to sweep her frame.
"Ooohhh, look at the man's blinking eye!" she squealed, watching the crack at the tip of the crimson mushroom. "Wink! I'd like to put myself right up inside you!"
With a boyish cry of glee, he splashed into the water at her side, and threw a wild arm around her waist, caressing her luscious flesh.
Seconds later, they were stumbling up the pool ladder, panting and laughing. She screeched a pretend protest as he dragged her to the green carpeting beyond the tile.
"'Fraid, am I? Afraid to come inside?"
He drove her thighs apart with brutal knees, and bent to drive himself into her body.
"Betcha can't do it while you walk me!" the blonde challenged.
"Splendid! Mad!" The man choked his response and plunged his wet, ripe shaft into the girls vagina.
Almost immediately, the two were bound in the convulsions of orgasm, grinding their unsated appetites into each other and groaning their delirium.
"You couldn't walk me! I told you!"
Angel's spasms were still rippling against the man's belly.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her back, and held her planted on his still-thickened penis as he struggled to his feet.
"Can't ... walk ... you? Watch!"
He staggered with his delicious burden toward the door to the manor, and Angel's gorgeous legs tightened their grip on his hips as she saw his intention.
"Goody!" she exclaimed. "There's someone you want me to meet!"
She hoped it would be that saucy little foreign girl who thought she had such a cute can. Let her see a really slick bod getting fucked by her boss.
Jonas' great, ramming length drove deeper and deeper into her with each step he took. As they moved slowly across the hall toward the library door, the paroxysm touched every fiber and nerve of their locked bodies.
"I ... I ... Oh, Mr. Tycott! I don't think ... I ... can ... wait...."
Mr. Tycott hoped she couldn't. "We're almost there. There is someone I want you to meet ... right ... here...."
Then, they were at the door, and Angel heard the squeal of French indignation as Yvette caught sight of her curvaceous back, mounted on the front of the lord of the manor.
"No! It is the child! MONSIEUR!"
At just that instant, climax gripped and over whelmed Angel, paralyzed her body with the violence of her coming. Tycott, who had still not quite reached his crest, cried to the onlookers to watch the spectacle of the girl's passion. She was powerless to resist as he pried her arms from his neck. He gripped her tail firmly and lowered her until her blonde hair touched the floor. They were locked snugly together at the middle.
Angel's breasts bounced with tempestuous boldness as she shuddered through the last of her climax.
"Angel!"
The eyes that had been tightly closed, as the orgasm claimed her, now opened in consternation. Still inverted, her lush body dangling in full display to all, Angel looked ... and saw her mother.
Tanya was still lying face-down on the rug beside the romping Hans and Yvette. Across her back, Angel saw the red lines where the whip had fallen.
"Mommy!" The child-woman wrenched and clawed away from Tycott's body and dashed, sobbing hysterically, to her mother's side. She tore at the rope knots that held the wrists, and choked her outrage at the two who lay watching indifferently.
"You beasts! You dirty...."
Her wrists freed, Tanya remained lying on her stomach, and refused to look at her daughter.
Angel stared at the stripes across her mother's back.
Like thunder from a rolling storm, the roar of truth broke around the girl. For just a second, she crouched at her mother's side. Then, she fell across Tanya's shoulders as racking sobs convulsed her body.
"Oh, Mommy, I did! I did! Not Chad. I wanted to kill him for taking you. I ... I thought I was going to lose you!"
The confession tumbled from the girl's lips. Angel told of the camera, the darkroom, and the blackmail to force his attention.
"Where is he?" Tanya felt a flood of light soaring through her body.
"He's ... I think he's ... out there." Angel nodded toward the back of the manor.
"The hill?"
Suddenly, they both remembered the steep rock that dropped, for a hundred feet, at the back end of the estate.
"God!" Tanya's cry burst desperately from her lips as she pushed from the floor. With eyes nearly blinded by tears, she ran for the door, seizing Jonas' blue robe from the floor.
He was seated, staring at nothingness, when she found him at the cliff side. The glow from the tip of his cigarette was all that illuminated the darkness. It was enough. Her man was there. "Chad," she called softly.
There was no answer from him.
"Chad, Angel told me what she did. Chad, believe me, I understand."
There was the sound of a low, gagging sob. Then, the light from the cigarette disappeared. She felt the warmth of his arms as they circled her shoulders. Neither of them spoke, but both knew they had another chance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It wasn't the thunder or the lightning that awakened her. Angel had been wide awake for more than an hour. After the way she had tried to wreck her mother's affair, she was sure that Tanya would be through with her forever.
There had been a painful reunion that night, a week before, when Tanya and Chad had returned from the woods and found Angel packing. Chad was silent, overwhelmed that Tanya still wanted him after what he had done with Angel. It had been a moment Angel knew she would never forget when her mother called her to the living room.
Weeping, Angel had let her mother draw her into her arms. Incredibly, she heard Tanya ask Chad to hold them both in his arms.
Nothing was said about what had happened. It was all forgiven by Tanya, who seemed less interested in keeping Chad all to herself, than in having a family circle of three. Instinctively, Angel knew that if she didn't believe that, or if Chad didn't, whoever wanted out, could leave.
It made a crazy kind of sense, even to Angel. That moment, when Jonas carried her into the library, locked to his body in copulation fever, had been the turning point.
For seven days, and seven nights, Angel had chastised herself as a selfish bitch, and made great resolutions that she was through with men. She even considered taking vows of celibacy, and entering the monastic life as a penitence for nearly destroying her mother's fife.
Now, it was a week later. Tanya had called her to come and talk with Chad and her on the couch. It had been quite a talk, and, unable to forget the sensations it had stirred, Angel lay wakeful as the thunderstorm neared. It was nothing compared to the storm brewing in her head.
Both of them had been so open in their affection. Her mother had started it by urging Angel to sit between her and Chad.
Strange, beautiful emotions flared inside Angel as she felt the warmth of Chad's thigh on one side, and her mother's on the other.
Chad had moved directly from the mansion to the gatehouse the night of the big scene with Jonas. To Angel, they were already the same as husband and wife, and it was beautiful.
On the last two nights, unable to resist the lure of the sounds, she had stolen from her room and tiptoed to her mother's door to listen. The sex between those two was wild! Oddly, it drove all thoughts of her own starving sex life from her mind. There was magic and wonder just listening to her mother's ecstasy.
The night before, listening had not been enough, and when the passion beyond the door soared to a crescendo of groaning mattress springs and moaning lovers, Angel turned the knob and eased the door barely open. Her heart stood still as she heard her mother ask, "Chad, didn't we close the bedroom door?"
"Hell, guess not!" came the muttered answer. "Want me to get it?"
"Ummmmhh ... don't you dare move," murmured Tanya. "Open doors are more wholesome, anyway."
For twenty-four hours, that comment needled at Angel. What had her mother meant? There, on the couch, while supper was cooking, the three of them had giggled as they cuddled. Her mother's fingers had repeatedly caressed, in innocent affection, both Chad, and her daughter, as they sat together. When Chad showed a stiffening front to his slacks, it was Tanya who caught Angel's glance and winked.
There was a new spirit in the apartment, and it was almost impossible for an eighteen-year-old to fathom. Her mother had come alive in her all-out sexuality. But where did Chad fit into the total scheme?
Whether it was from some sixth sense, or from the slight shadow beyond her bed, Angel was suddenly aware that someone had slipped silently into her room.
She fought the fear, and lay watching the unmoving presence. It must be, had to be, either her mother or Chad. Then the lightning flared more brilliant than daylight and she saw. Chad was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her sheet-covered form. His bathrobe was parted, and a fiercely inflated cock projected stiff and long from his groin. He was sure Angel was still asleep, for he stood brazenly, rocking gently to urge his fantastic organ in an erratic pendulum. He seemed unsure of his next move.
Abruptly, he gathered the gown across his front and moved determinedly along the side of the bed.
Through nearly closed lashes, Angel could see all. Chad was breathing erratically, and was obviously fondling himself as he looked at her. A strange, lost sense possessed Angel. Once, she had wanted all he had, but now she wanted her mother to have all of him.
She rolled slightly away from the figure beside her.
"Angel ... your mother sent me to get you," said the soft voice.
"Angel, are you awake?" he persisted, as she lay in shocked silence.
"Mmmmhh."
"Mommy says the lightning always scares you, so come on in with us. We'd like that."
Impossible! An incredulous Angel tried to absorb that and couldn't. His hand was warm on her hip. There, atop the sheet, the pressure of his fingers was light and maddening.
"Come on, Angel. We've got lots of room in our bed."
"I ... I am kind of sissy about lightning," she admitted, sliding from the bed and drawing the sheet around her to cover her nudity. "As long as it wouldn't crowd you two."
"It'll be nice," cooed the voice at the bedroom door. Her mother! Nude, and unashamed, of her lack of cover. "Only thing is, no changes allowed.
We sleep without clothing, the way you do, Angel ... so we all stay as usual."
Clutching the sheet around her body, Angel stepped into the bedroom, with Chad at her side. They followed the shimmering glow of a radiant Tanya as she hurried to be the first back into bed.
Out of the comer of her eye, Angel saw the clear brazenness of several bared inches of cock protruding through Chad's robe! "We two will have the side and the middle, and old Chad will have to stay over to the far side," Tanya declared, as Chad fell into the bed.
"Me? In the middle?" Angel whispered the words and crawled over the foot of the bed, knowing her mother meant exactly that. It was frightening and awesomely exciting. Somehow, Angel felt like an old-fashioned square with these two.
"Course ... you in the middle." Tanya giggled, a trifle too brightly. "You're the one who's afraid of the lightning."
"I really am, too," Angel admitted.
"Snuggle right in and punch if either of us gets too close," chuckled Chad.
Angel could feel the mattress yield as her not-yet-stepfather sat down on the edge of the bed. For long minutes, Angel lay perfectly still, staring at the darkness, and catching the occasional flicker of a lightning flash.
The room was dark and silent, and the sounds of even breathing came from all three. Then, as if on signal, the two on the outside rolled slightly, twisting to shift their bodies toward the middle.
Angel, lying on her back, felt the pressure of the two naked forms easing against her shoulders and hips. She was enveloped in the dual sensuality of her mother and Chad.
Rich, firm breasts urged against her shoulder and while she had often felt their touch, this night they felt entirely different.
On the other side, hot and hard, Chad's erection trembled against her hip. Both sensations had wild magnetism for Angel and, in spite of her effort to hide it, a little shudder ran through her body.
"Don't be frightened," cooed Tanya. "Chad's here and he'd never sleep if there was danger. He's sound asleep."
Angel knew just how much Chad was sound asleep. His phallus against her tail told her that much.
Tanya's fingers stole across her upper arm. Mommy wanted a new relationship with her daughter, and, as Angel felt the deep, inner tremor to that sensual touch, she knew she had hungered for it herself for years. Prowling fingers crept across to the center of Angel's frantically excited breasts, and began to stroke lightly around a stiffened nipple.
Angel could feel Chad's massive cock jutting stiffly across the curve of her tail. He seemed to be awaiting some sign, and he was getting none yet from either female.
"Nice," Angel whispered, as her mother's fingers caressed the other breast. "But how about...."
"Chad? He sleeps like a dead man, once he's out."
The "dead man" sleep might be convincing to Tanya, but, to Angel, it was the wild organ he wore that convinced her that before the night was out, there would be massive changes in the trio's relationship.
"Can I confess?" Tanya's voice was very small and not at all maternal.
"Confess?" echoed Angel, sudden goose bumps on her arm.
"I've had something strange happen to me lately."
"Tell me about it," Angel whispered.
"I've wanted to play with you. I mean, love the beautiful thing you've become since you came out of my body."
There it was!
Out in the open!
For the first time, Tanya had leveled about the feelings Angel had been sure she felt. "I think," Angel measured her words, "that ... it ... would ... be ... nice ... to ... play."
What would the man behind her do, she wondered, feeling him stir to her words.
"Good!" whispered Tanya. There was relief in the whisper. "I was so afraid to confess...."
"Needn't be." Angel's fingers found Tanya's breast and traced lightly the thrusting firmness, coming to the nipple, then travelling down the slope past the cleavage and up the curve of the other. "I like this kind of play. Why not?"
She felt her mother quiver, and knew that Tanya was absorbing the latest revelation of her daughter's sexual past. It was time to shock Chad, and Angel's hand drifted behind her. She stroked the bar of man-flesh. So hot! So completely under control, in spite of his want. Nothing, but the continued sound of his heavy breathing. What an actor!
Angel's fingers crept across the curve of Tanya's j shoulder, and traced down the shoulder blade, where, a week before, there had been red streaks from the whip Yvette had used at the mansion. "Are the marks gone?" she whispered.
There was a silence for a moment, as Tanya seemed to be trying to remember.
"Oh, the lash marks!" She hugged Angel tight to her front, and it was a strange, desire-filled sensation to the girl to feel Tanya's ripe, explosive boobs pressed against her own.
Chad felt Angel's fingers toy with his cock shaft. She was determined to force him to make a sign that he was awake, and, sure of it, he was even more determined to control himself.
It was all part of a plan set in motion by the decision he had made with Tanya two nights before.
"We had an eavesdropper tonight," Tanya had whispered to her lover when, in the dead silence of their bedroom, they heard the soft pad-pad of Angel going back to her room.
They talked into the wee hours about the girl, and, in candid admission, Tanya said she had long felt sexual tugs toward her daughter. No, she never had had a lesbian relation before, she replied, somewhat awed that Chad would ask.
"Yes and no," he said simply, when she asked if he had liked the love he had made in the clandestine play with Angel.
'Why 'no'?" Tanya asked.
Chad shrugged against her body, and it was obviously hard for him to reply. Finally, he tried.
'I'm mixed up as hell." He burrowed into the hollow of Tanya's shoulder so she wouldn't see his face. "I love you and no one else. I love Angel, but not like our love and not like a father either. I love her because she's the flesh of your flesh, and that makes her very precious to me. She pushed me over the edge on the sex thing, and now I'm looking myself right in the eye and admitting I really liked makin' it with her. Am I out?"
They talked on through much of the next day, while Angel was at classes, and, when she returned home, they had talked, trying to draw her into a three-way conversation that would lead to intimate talk. Nothing had developed.
In bed, as they played in passionate abandon, they heard the door open, and knew they were on display to Angel. In later conversation, each confessed to the other that whatever might be right or wrong about it, they somehow felt Angel had a right to be near at such a moment, because of their own personal feelings for her.
It made sense, and it made no sense, Chad and Tanya admitted to each other. They wished somehow that she had not been stopped a week ago, when they had returned to find her packing her bag.
"Would it ... Chad ... would it be utterly mad of us to invite her into our love once in a while?"
"Probably," he muttered, rolling from her arms. "But maybe not."
That evening, when Angel came home, Tanya drew her into their cocktail time, and, on the davenport, they had again tried to lead the talk toward sex. It had ended quickly, when, as Angel snuggled between them, Chad developed a monstrous erection.
It was all different now. In the darkness of the bedroom, Tanya and Chad were resolved to act out their deepest feelings for Angel, and for their new family oneness.
It seemed incredible to Chad that their intimacy had already hurried to this point, and even more incredible that Tanya had urged him to let himself go. She could have no idea how out of this world those urges could be.
"Let's play titty mash," he heard Angel whisper. "And while we do it, let's prickie duel with our tongues."
Tanya tilted Angel's face toward hers, and their lips met in a long, fingering kiss, as their arms locked their bodies tightly together.
"I'm terrible," moaned Angel. "Your nipples feel like two cocks jabbing me ... and ... and you know what it does?"
Tanya was breathless. "I hope it makes you almost come, the way it does me."
She ground her upper body even more aggressively against her daughters, and her tongue speared through Angel's lips.
Chad moved to take advantage of the opportunity, and his hand cupped across Angel's hip. Two, then three, fingers slipped into Angel's cunty slit, and he tantalized the warm, moist quim lips.
"Ooohhhh ... yes," groaned a delirious Angel, reacting in a violent thrusting to Chad's prowling fingers and the restless tongue of a woman who was no longer "Mommy", but "Tanya."
It was at that instant, that the breast stimulation claimed Tanya, and swept her into the helpless grip of an unwanted early orgasm.
Smiling to herself at the uncontrollable grinding of Tanya's body in response to the spontaneous climax, Angel reached again for the monstrous erection nudged boldly against her buttocks. Her fingers closed on the hot steel, and steered Chad's shaft until it was flush against her warm and tender cunty flesh.
The girl was actually inviting his attack! Daring him to take her at the very moment that she had led her mother to a bubbling crest in the initial thrill of their lesbian love.
"Ohhh, ... I need it ... I need it!" moaned an overwhelmed Tanya, whose hypersensitive breasts were the target for a new attack from Angel's lips.
Tanya had suddenly gone out of control. She was, for the moment, alone in a tiny universe with this love-driven girl. Could this inflaming temptress be her own daughter? Never, in a million years, could she believe that! "I ... I can't stop!" moaned Tanya.
Abruptly, just as Angel's head went feather light with the onset of her orgasm, there was a mannish groan of delirium from behind her.
At the same instant, Chad's body began to hump frantically against hers. She felt his iron hardness ramrod into her, and also felt the shocks against her body from the out-of-control thrusts of her mother.
His hands, which had been at her hips, swept round her body to find Tanya's shoulders. He squeezed the three of them fiercely as one body.
"Whaaa ... Chad Williams, what are you doing?" squealed a delirious Tanya, stretching away from the pair, and groping for the light on the bedside table.
Angel never would forget Tanya's expression as the light flared across the bed and illuminated every nude and writhing inch of her. In one searing second of truth, Angel knew she could be part of this bed forever.
"Chad ... what...?"
"I'm doin' it, Tanya," moaned the man, grinding an erection that had lost none of its hardness, in spite of his violent orgasm. "I'm makin' love to our girl."
"I ... do ... not ... believe ... it!"
Tanya's long dark hair moved slowly from side to side, as she shook her head in pretended disbelief.
Tanya leaned toward Angel to stare at the final evidence. She could see inches of Chad's still unburied prick and the widespread bps of Angel's quivering cunty gate.
Tanya's hand moved slowly to cover the exposed inches of stiffened cock-flesh that declared her man's infidelity. Her fingers traced the stretched labia that had opened to let the horny cock inside. Gently, but firmly, Tanya pressed her fingers to Angel's sensitive pubic curve, and, responding to the seductive feel, Angel urged her pelvis.
Abruptly, Chad was disengaged from the tender trap, and his stud shaft, glistening and wet from its play in Angel's vagina, sprang free, leaping in frustrated excitement.
"I know what I want." Tanya's eyes glittered, and she edged closer to the strange sight, her lips less than a breath away from the spunk-soaked crimson crown of Chad's glory.
She pressed her lips first to Chad's prick tip, and, for lingering seconds, licked the wetness from the swollen cap.
For a moment, it looked as though fellatio would follow, and Angel's exposed cleft seemed forgotten, as Tanya's mouth closed around the full cap, and she began to suck her man.
Inch by inch, his thick white stem disappeared from sight.
Impatient to pour his love again, Chad urged Tanya to intensify the suck and, abruptly, almost contemptuously, she spewed his organ from her lips. Tilting her head slightly, she kissed the vulnerable cleft of Angel's tender pussy flesh.
Tanya's tongue snaked to pierce the pink, baby soft flanges that were Angel's only protection to the play pen. "Let's see who has the most self control."
With sheer sadism glittering in her eyes,, she licked and loved her daughter's vulva. Watching Chad, as she kissed this most intimate part of another female, she focused all her attention on the play between Angel's thighs.
Her tongue snaked through yielding love lips, into the threshold of Angel's vagina, stiffened there, and began a torturous spearing of the girl's taut clit. Orgasm claimed Angel, as spasm tumbled over spasm, in a runaway spunk madness.
"Oh ... ohhh ... yesss!"
A stunned and delighted Chad watched the scene, his maddened hard-on still jabbing through her thighs as he nudged against Tanya's chin line.
Abruptly, she broke the oral play with Angel, and a devilling finger continued what her tongue had started, while she went back to the assault on Chad.
Little sounds of contentment spewed inarticulately from Tanya's throat as she engulfed the dark, swollen mushroom of his cock crown. The taste of his semen, mingling with Angel's spunk, was still there, tartly sweet and maddening. She sucked thirstily, taking more of the shaft than she ever had before.
Slowly and deliberately, Tanya sucked the man's turbulent penis, licking almost casually along the wide ledge of the glans to madden the million sensitive nerves. Mercilessly, she left the inflamed erection, as the throaty moans of her victim began to sound warnings of his approaching orgasm.
Inches away from Chad's agony, her daughter's clitoris was another tortured center of wanting. The finger that had toyed the stiffened muscle, had kept the low grade climax rolling inside.
Now, as Tanya splayed the cunty lips wide, the reddening nubbin of the clitty, standing away from the sweet passion flesh around it, was like a mini erection.
As she pressed her mouth to the wide stretched labia, and sought the turgid clit, the perfect merger of their love took Tanya by storm. In her heart, tormented now for more than a week since their reunion, there was the terror that one of her two beloveds might not accept her feelings.
Some weird chemistry had slanted her feelings for Angel.
Still, she had been driven to arrange this midnight madness to satisfy some need in herself. Was it her need for a lesbian relation? Her want of proof that Chad was more hers than Angel's? Or just her desire for a wild circle of love between the three of them?
For the moment, it felt like a perfect circle of love to Tanya, and, suddenly disengaging from the two, she eased backward, finding Angel's hands as she moved. Kneeing slightly forward to force Chad's legs further apart, she spread Angel's arms wide, then rested back on her calves to survey the scene she had created.
Two beautiful bodies were spreadeagled before her-Angel atop Chad, his hands resting lightly at the wide flare of her sleek hips, her arms flung wide as she caught the glitter in her mother's eyes. Spearing in incongruous frenzy through Angel's thighs, scant inches before her cleft, was an unyielding tower of male hominess, jabbing its plea to Tanya for help.
"I think it's the most beautiful sight I ever have seen!" murmured Tanya. "I'm going to be the handmaid to my lovers."
She grasped the outspoken manflesh at the root of the white bone and angled it toward the waiting pussy flesh.
"Move up an inch or two, Angel," she whispered. "There's very much of him."
As if to help her, Chad's hands crept from Angel's hips to her breasts. Tanya caught her breath as she saw her man cup his hands at the dramatically contoured undercurve of the breasts. The light squeeze of his palms forced the globes into even more exaggerated outspokenness, so that, from Tanya's position between the legs of the pair, the boobs appeared to explode from her body in tantalizing prominence.
Now, Tanya bent lovingly to her task, and, seizing the upraised and trembling erection, she forced it back toward the tiny slit of Angel's frenzied sex center.
"Tanya ... baby ... I...." Chad tried to say something and the words wouldn't come. A volcano bubbled inside, and it felt as though it reached from his scalp to his toes.
Now, in this totally exposed moment, his nakedness, hard against Angel's voluptuousness, the both of them on full display to the one woman who had become the whole of his life, he was in agony.
"Shhhh," Tanya hissed, when he tried to speak again. "I want to help it happen between you and Angel. Then she's going to help us."
A wave of jungle-driven lust swept her as she guided the wildly swollen prick cap to the delicate petals of Angel's labial lips. "I want to see you have intercourse with her, Chad. I want to help you in!"
In answer, Angel writhed against the thick knob nudging at her palpitating vulva.
Barely lodged inside the sweet love lips, the fat red corona of his cock was just out of sight, while the rest of his shaft was on full display to his lover. It was a perfect playpen for the possessed Tanya, and she bent to kiss the merger of cock and cunt.
The union of hard bone and yielding cunt-flesh was a startling magnet to her, and, drawn helplessly to the meeting of male and female, she bent across the tapered loveliness of Angel's thigh and kissed their sexuality feverishly.
The full orbs of Chad's balls were her first tar get, and, ignoring his moans for mercy, she nibbled and licked her way across the funneled roundnesses. Inch by tantalizing inch, she worked across the root of the hard-on and up the pulsing underside of his thunderous shaft, coming at last to the point where the wildest magic was.
Her restless tongue swept back and forth. An inch, and then another, disappeared from sight into Angel's vagina. The tip of the cock squashed the clit, and, as Tanya began to lick, Angel squealed in total surrender to the rapture. Wet and wild, the tongue devilled the heat of that meeting place, and the madness between the three deepened.
"I ... I'm coming ... Ohhhh! Yes ... YES, CHAD ... Mommy ... DO ME!"
Her whole body shuddered in the grip of frenzied orgasm. At the very last, as he felt his orgasm surging deep within, he was grabbed by an even greater want-Tanya!
It was really only Tanya he wanted. With an effort beyond his own strength, he steadied against cresting.
An end-over-end climax possessed Angel as she took the full thrust of his phallus. Even as she was tom again and again by orgasms that wouldn't quiet, she knew. There was a different Chad inside her.
Ever so slowly, the glow of her rapture washed away. As her head cleared, she felt Chad's hands slip from her breasts, and, at the point where their bodies had locked, she felt a softening of phallic steel. There was a soft inarticulate murmur from Chad, and then from Tanya, as she rolled to the side, but neither of them tried to keep her from moving.
Such a strange turn of events, thought Angel, as she lay quietly watching Chad gather Tanya in his arms. Feeling oddly like a voyeur, she stared at the slow, supple movement of their bodies as they squirmed together. Now, seeing the undulation of Tanya's body as her man ground the message of his demand into her, Angel felt like an impostor.
The former desire to destroy what was between these two had become a consuming need to perfect their oneness. It was time for her to go.
She waited as they began to rock in the rhythm of love, waited until the harmony reached toward a crescendo. Then, noiselessly, she slipped from the bed and moved to the living room, pulling the door behind her as she left the lovers.
No one had to tell her that it could have been different. All Angel had to do was wait until the copulation slowed, and then re-insert herself into the action. But it was no good. Not now. Now, there was love alive in that next room-a love that she had yet to experience.
The need to search for a man like Chad, pounded at her as she walked slowly across the living room of the gatehouse and paused by the great window. This was where the whole wild affair had begun, she remembered. Here, in this living room, on the day that she set Chad up with the camera caper. And there, up at the top of that hill, was where it almost ended.
Angel stared at the ghostly massiveness of the mansion outlined at the hill crest. Maybe Jonas was the man she should settle for.
"You've got to be out of your tree!" she scolded aloud, turning toward her bedroom.
Sounds reached her from the room she had just left, and she felt the contagion of the lovers' climaxes. It had been a fun romp with them, and, crazy as it might seem to others, Angel knew she had helped crystallize their love. Now it was time to go.
For a few moments, she wrote, then rewrote, a note to Chad and her mother. Shortly, the note finished, her bag packed, she slipped out of the house and hurried down the street.
There were strange looks exchanged, when, in the early hours of the morning, the truckers, delivering their produce to the Stamford Farmers' Market, watched the beautiful blonde moving with her suitcase along the line of trucks.
She stopped at one whose license plate was farthest away from Connecticut. "Are you going back to Florida?" she asked.
"Sure am, miss!" beamed the man, winking at his partner. "All the way to Ocala. About one hour."
"Would you possibly have room for a passenger?"
Her eyes were intense, and it was obvious that the girl was exhausted. He guessed that she was desperate. Not many desperate kids ask a sixty-year-old for help. She was one of the "now" kids, and odds were she was looking for the Florida warmth to hide out in and think about things through the cold winter.
He glanced at his partner, and knew the man was thinking the same thoughts as he stood on the truck's tailgate, looking down at the blonde bombshell.
"Welcome to come, if you can stand Andy, here," chuckled the man. "Say, what'd you say your name is?"
"Angel. S'pose I could climb in now, and snooze on your front seat until you're ready to go?"
"Do you better'n that. Got us a rolling motel in that cab up front. You'll find a right nice mattress behind the seat. You just climb on in and make yourself to home."
