It had been a long day, a very long day, and Moira was only too happy to have it come to an end. First, all those college courses dealing with big business, and then the practical application of those courses in the small company she managed. Her mother had insisted she study all those courses, and the lovely, brown-haired, emerald-eyed girl was unable to understand why it was so important for her to learn all this.
She had taken a small, nondescript clothing store, and even as a part-time manager, had been able to turn it from a losing proposition into a moneymaker. Still, her mother had insisted the girl take the college courses, then put them to practical use. She had a natural knack for business, but she hated it.
She paused before the store mirror and looked at herself just before closing up. She saw a twenty-six-year-old girl, a girl with a youthful face, a girl who was knowledgeable about business, but who was naive about life. Her turned-up nose wrinkled as she ran her fingers through curly brown hair that fell past her shoulders. Full lips pouted as they surveyed the mirrored image of the curvaceous figure she possessed. Full, thrusting breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips leading to sensuous thighs. Thighs that had never known what it's like to have a man between them. Her mother watched Moira like a hawk, telling the girl, "Until your wedding night, you don't give that treasure to anyone."
Considering her mother's reputation for promiscuity, it seemed downright hypocritical. But Moira was never one to disobey her mother. So, at the age of twenty-six, she was that rarity, a real virgin.
It was time to get home. As she locked up the store, she turned and saw a familiar figure crossing the mall.
"Hughie!" she called out, and Hugh Walker turned to face her.
Hugh was the husband of her cousin, Jane. He was a man of medium height with brown thinning hair which he combed over his forehead, Burt Reynolds style. He also had a Burt Reynolds-style mustache. The man was a no-nonsense individual. When Moira had tried coming on to him two years ago, when she had first met him, he had rebuffed her, telling her he was married to her half-sister and was devoted to her.
"Jane is my cousin," she had snapped at the time, "not my half-sister."
"That's what you say," Hugh had replied. "Jane says otherwise."
"Jane's father is my father's brother," Moira insisted.
"Jane claims your father's brother married your mother to prevent either of you from putting in a claim on him."
"My father is a very moral man," Moira objected. "In fact, he divorced my mother because he claims she was fooling around. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I haven't seen him since I was a baby, and I probably never will.
Coming back to the present, she addressed Hughie again, "Look, Hughie, you're going past my house on the way home. How about dropping me off so I don't have to take a bus?"
"Why not," Hugh nodded. "Come on!"
They got into his light-tan Toyota Celica Supra, and fifteen minutes later he was parking behind a gray Mercedes in front of Moira's home. The license plate on the Mercedes read "GEORGE 1."
"Well, well," Hugh muttered. "The esteemed attorney, George Hyde is visiting you, I see. I'd recognize his license plate anywhere."
"That lech," Moira shrugged. "Heaven only knows how many times he's tried putting his hands on me. He always rubs against me when he passes me."
"He's your problem," Hugh shrugged, unconcerned. "See you around, kid."
"Give my hate to Jane," Moira smiled, getting out of the car.
"Careful, you're talking about the woman I love," Hugh insisted as the beautiful girl closed his car door and headed for the house.
Moira no longer felt attracted to Hughie Walker. He was nice looking, but in spite of his bravado, there seemed to be something lacking in his personality. Once upon a time when she had seen him, she had felt itchiness in her vagina. Now, she felt nothing. In a way, she was glad he had never succumbed to her initial pleadings.
Taking her key from her clutch purse, Moira unlocked the door and entered the house. She knew George Hyde was somewhere in the house, but all she heard was total silence. Where was her mother? Where was George Hyde?
Then she heard a whimper. What was going on?
Quietly closing the front door behind her, she walked inside. Silence again! Then once more there was a whimper, and she realized it had come from the bedroom upstairs!
Stealthily climbing the stairs, she silently approached the closed door to the master bedroom; the bedroom where her mother had slept alone all these years. In spite of her father's insistence, Moira had refused to believe in her mother's immorality-until now!
Cracking the bedroom door just a little, she peered in and froze. There was her mother, all naked, and there was an equally naked George Hyde, pinning her to the bed. Moira jammed a knuckle into her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Horrible! Maybe she should run in and throw the man off her mother. Perhaps he was forcing her to do this!
Even as she thought all these things, her dazed brain found it difficult to make her body function. She found herself trembling, thinking how easy it would be for the attorney to kill her mother-and then kill her as well.
Taking another deep breath, Moira peered into the room again, and she realized Micky, her mother, had an arm wrapped around the attorney's body. Her other arm was wrapped around the man's neck.
Moira stared, aghast. She had an excellent view of the proceedings. The coital couple was only a dozen feet away from her, and across the room, the dressing table mirror reflected everything taking place. From where she stood, she had an excellent view of the man's hair buttocks and broad back. The mirror reflected his straining face.
Moira stood transfixed, unable to pull away. As she stared, the girl saw her mother's legs swing out, then tighten in a circle around the attorney's body, her ankles locking. At that point, Moira understood that her mother was a more-than-willing partner to what was occurring.
Now Moira knew her father's allegations were true. Her mother was a promiscuous woman. Considering how often the older, blonde-haired woman fought to keep Moira's virginity intact, it seemed ridiculous, but it was true.
From somewhere far away, the thought came that this was something private and she ought not to be witnessing it, but Moira stood there gaping, staring at the hair-covered furrow of her mother's hot and aching slit as the older woman's thighs opened wide once more. Yes, there were the ragged, glistening lips of her mother's tantalizing vagina-at least tantalizing to George Hyde.
George Hyde, up on his knees now, tugged back a little, and Moira had her first glimpse of an erect male penis, albeit, only part of the organ, since the rest was still buried in the teeming orifice of her mother's sodden delta. She silently gasped, amazed at the length and thickness of the stolid pole. Then there was that scrotum, tight as it was at the moment, it was still huge, containing twin marbles, nestling firmly against her mother."
Her mother's right hand dropped down between her thighs, and using her fingers, she spread her vaginal lips even wider apart, and the massive penile prod moved back a big more, revealing its true immensity, and then slammed forward and down, burying itself to the hilt in the snug container of Micky Starr's cunt. Colorless oils oozed out and coated her thighs, as well as the attorney's balls.
A sigh and gasp escaped from her mouth, the same sounds Moira had heard when she had first entered the house. George Hyde remained still for a moment, then repeated the maneuver. He slowly pushed and pulled, and the tightness of her mother's crushing cunt made sucking sounds around the throbbing staff. Each backward thrust had the huge phallic pale tugged all the way back so only the head was buried in the succulent maw of Micky's pussy. Ridges of pink flesh were seen clinging tenaciously to the withdrawing prick. Then the hard pole plunged all the way in once again.
Moira's mouth hung open in disbelief as she saw her mother arching her back off the mattress, the rotating hips thrust upward to meet the downward screwing motion of the driving cock. Micky's cunt seemed to be desperately trying to encase every last millimeter of peter in her clinging vaginal scabbard.
"Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me," the wonderfully husky voice of Micky Starr groaned.
The horrible obscenities not only filled Moira's ears, but her mind. Lewd, forbidden words she had never been permitted to use sent electric tingles through the twenty-six-year-old girl.
A smoldering spark ignited between Moira's thighs, and she clamped her loins together in an attempt to put out the blaze. She was completely under the spell of the fucking couple, and her own body was rotating in time to the movement she was witnessing. She ached to tear herself from the lascivious sight confronting her, but was unable to do so.
The attorney was fucking her mother wildly, and then a piercing scream filled the room, signifying her mother's orgasm. It was followed by a low, savage moan. Then, as Moira watched, she saw the whitish fluid oozing from the tightness of her mother's still-filled vagina. The rivulets ran down her mother's asscheeks onto the bed. The two of them were now lying still, he on top of her, both panting.
"Wh-what about Moira?" the man was saying, and for a moment, Moira was afraid the attorney was looking to do the same thing to her.
"She won't be home for another twenty minutes," Moira heard her mother reply.
"We'd better get dressed," George insisted. "We can always to this another time when we're sure not to be interrupted. Besides, my impromptu visit has to do with your daughter, as you well know."
"You mean, you're going to tell her about the will," Micky murmured.
"She has to be told," George insisted. "It was part of her father's instructions. I noticed you trained her well."
"She's ready to take over," Micky murmured. "I'll miss my daughter, but this is an opportunity not to be missed. You're right. Go get dressed. We have to be ready for Moira when she comes in."
Silently, Moira slinked away and waited downstairs. Ten minutes went by, then she slammed the front door, calling out, "Mom, I'm home!"
CHAPTER TWO
Moira was still stunned by what she had seen, but walked into the kitchen and waited discreetly while her mother and the attorney came downstairs.
"Darling," her mother called out once she was in the living room. "Did all go well today?"
"Yes, mother," Moira nodded, entering the living room and seeing her mother and the attorney, both totally unperturbed by her presence.
Micky Starr was a beautiful woman who didn't look at all like her daughter. She was tinier than Moira, with short, blonde, upswept hair. Tiny laugh lines were playing around the corners of her mouth, and there were the beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Otherwise, she was an unquestionably attractive woman. Attractive and, as Moira now knew, every bit as promiscuous as her ex-husband had claimed, which was why he had ran out on them, letting Micky divorce him.
Moira had always wondered about her father. She'd never really known him and had never had the chance to love him. Nor did she hate him because her mother had brought her up to think tolerantly of the man. He had provided for both of them, paying the taxes on the small home in which they lived, paying for their food and clothing, but otherwise having nothing to do with them.
George Hyde, who was her father's attorney as well as her mother's, was the only tie between them.
"Well, Moira," the dapper little attorney addressed her, smiling and holding out a hand to her.
He had a very narrow trimmed mustache and graying hair. As always, or at least when he was dressed, he was immaculately dressed, this time in a gray cash-mere suit.
"Moira," her mother began, "Mr. Hyde has something very important to say to you. Please listen carefully to him, dear."
They sat, Moira's mother pouring a small brandy for George. The latter sipped it, then opened a briefcase and took out some papers and shuffled through them saying, "Moira, your father died last week."
"Oh!" was all Moira managed to say.
"According to his express instructions, you, your mother and a few other people are to be in my office Saturday for the official reading of the will. This will be especially important to you. Now I have a very personal question to ask, and you must answer it."
"If I can," she nodded.
"You're the only one who can," George answered. "Are you still a virgin. Please answer truthfully. It's important."
"Well, actually, yes, I am," Moira admitted, turning red, hating to discuss something so intimate with this man who had just finished rogering her mother so thoroughly.
"Excellent," George nodded his approval, smiling at her mother. "You did a good job, Micky. As a result, you'll also be in for a pleasant surprise. But I can't say anything more right now. I'll see you both at the reading of the will."
"Now I must be on my way to the Walker home," George continued. "Jane has to be told, too. She's also involved, you know, and it's important she be apprised of this as well."
"She's such a rotten girl," Micky protested. "From the day she was able to talk, she's spewed nothing but invectives at us. We never did her any harm, and she insisted on cursing at us."
"Remember, the man she knew as her father was poor," George replied. "Her mother insisted your husband was Jane's father. It happened six months before he married you. As a result, Jane believes herself to be Harry Starr's oldest child and feels entitled to whatever is going to left to Moira. But Harry never acknowledged Jane as his."
"Are you saying that bitch really is my half-sister?" Moira gasped.
"Everything will be made clear to you at the reading of the will," George replied. "I am not at liberty to discuss this further right now."
"We'll be there," Micky insisted. "I did everything Harry ordered. Moira is very skilled in the business world, she's as sharp in her own way as her father was in his. I won't have her cheated of her inheritance, George."
"Just follow instructions, and you'll both be happy," George insisted. "Moira, remember, you're to have nothing to do with men at all between now and Saturday. You'll understand why at that time."
He kissed Micky chastely on the cheek, making Moira snigger to herself. Then once again, he shook hands with Moira, his eyes letting her know he would love to be the one to rob her of her virginity. With a parting goodbye, he left the house.
He drove quickly to a house five minutes away, the house of Hugh and Jane Walker. There, he outlined to Jane the same instructions about coming to his office on Saturday.
Jane was much taller then Moira. She was very slender, built like a model. In fact, she was a model. She had a lovely face, but a mean disposition. When her husband had married her, he had known she wouldn't be faithful to him, but Hugh hadn't cared. At least it meant getting his share of her, even if others had a piece of her now and again.
After the attorney had finished giving his instructions, Jane addressed her husband, "Hughie, take a walk."
"A long walk or a short one?" Hugh asked, which meant, "Are you going to fuck the man, or just talk to him?"
"A short walk, dear," she replied, smiling at him. The smile meant she was all his-after she was finished talking with George, that is.
Jane led George into a lavishly furnished private den, sitting down beside him on a divan. The house was a far more elegant one than Moira's because Jane loved luxury. In spite of her six-figure earnings, and her husband's equally high income, the Walkers were in debt. Jane had many expensive parties, and she bought many expensive gifts, especially for those men who serviced her in a better way than her husband.
"What's in the will, Mr. Hyde?" she asked, her hand caressing George's knee. She was in a white and green kimono, and it was obvious she had nothing else on underneath.
"You'll find out Saturday," George replied, less perturbed than he might have been, the edge having been taken off his sexual appetite by Micky Starr.
"I suppose I'm mentioned, which is why you want me there?" Jane continued prompting.
"Let's say it will be to your advantage to be there," George replied.
"You know," she told him, "I can make things good for you if I happen to get a chunk of the old man's fortune."
"I have no control over the will," George shrugged.
"You can always slip in a change or two without anyone knowing it," Jane insisted, her hand now rubbing his balls.
"That would be unethical," George maintained.
"Just remember" Jane continued, unzipping his fly and pulling out his freshly washed pecker, "I can make things nice for you."
George jumped as she lowered her head and sucked his penis into her mouth. Her tongue twirled expertly around it, and even though he'd had one orgasm already, his penis slowly grew to attention.
Abruptly, Jane pulled her mouth from the rigid cock, saying, "It's just a sample, Georgie-Porgie. I made it swell, and I can take the starch out of it very pleasantly; after I'm certain of getting something in return. You take that hard-on home with you and let it remind you how good this girl can be."
George hemmed a little, stood, managed to tuck his phallus back into his pants, and without another word, left. Though he had often defended her to Micky Starr, he knew she had a vicious tongue and a nasty disposition when she wanted. Besides, there was one more thing he had to do before going home for the evening.
Hugh Walker saw George getting into his Mercedes and figured it was safe to go back into the house. He knew his wife was good, but Jane did things slowly. There was no chance that she had really done anything with George Hyde. That meant her cunt was his for the evening. He stepped inside and was greeted by his wife who came to him and threw her arms wildly around his neck.
"We're going to be filthy rich, Hughie," she murmured into his mouth as her tongue dueled with his. "We'll never have to worry about a thing-not ever again. Even if the estate of my late father is equally divided between that bitchy Moira and myself, it'll mean billions!"
"What makes you so certain you'll get half?" Hugh questioned.
"That attorney, Hyde, he'll treat us right. You'll see," she smiled.
"He can only follow the will's instructions," Hugh insisted.
"Don't worry," Jane assured her husband. "He wouldn't have come here unless he had something worthwhile to offer. You'll see," she repeated. "Now come on, give me a cock appetizer."
Swiftly, she peeled off the kimono she was wearing, tossing it to the side. Hugh stood there staring at the marble-white perfection of her. Even with her small breasts, she was utterly beautiful. The hairs on her pelvis had been shaved away because she often had to model in-the nude, or near-nude.
Hugh stared at the bare pinkness of her lower lips, seeing the wetness amassing on the curlicued flesh, and he licked his lips. She had such a gorgeous cunt! More than once he had feasted at it. Jane loved it when he ate her because it meant he was somewhat subservient to her. But she loved "doing" as much as "being done to," and at the moment, she appeared in the mood to give rather than receive,
which meant she really was in a good mood.
Her hands were all over him, removing his clothing a little at a time, tossing everything wildly about as she led him from the living room and down hallway to the far end of the house where the master bedroom was. By the time they'd reached there, Hugh was down to nothing else but his shoes and socks.
"Leave them on," Jane insisted. "They make you look so sexy."
She led him to the bed and had him lie flat on his back, then slid on top of him. Hugh gasped, feeling the hot slick ness of her seething labia grip his flesh and such on whatever was touched. She slid her slick cunt back and forth on his chest, then on his belly, and against his throbbing cock. But she refused to let him stab it into her.
Leaning down, she used her tongue, slowly licking his body, removing her oily juices with her mouth, sucking and licking him lower and lower.
"Oh my God!" Hugh gasped feverishly.
"Love me?" she asked, her tongue wandering through the brown patch on his pelvis.
"You know it," he groaned.
"Do anything I ask?" she wanted to know.
"Anything!" he moaned.
"Just remember that promise," she insisted, as her rubber band-like lips closed tautly over the red, throbbing head of his stiffly aching cock.
Hugh groaned and thrust his loins upward, and more of the weighty organ slid into her oral cavity. Her tongue twirled more rapidly around the stanchion of hot, hard gristle, causing the blood-bloated head to swell even more.
For some reason, his mind flashed to Moira. Except for the that one time when she had let him know she was available, she had never been sexually forward. But the idea of having Moira do this to him suddenly aroused him. Hell! If Moira ever got a lip lock on his cock, he'd fire a white wad down her gullet that'd float a battleship!
Shit! His cock felt like a bloated balloon! He crammed his thighs all the more firmly against Jane's lovely face, listening to her protesting mumble, but at this point he wasn't in the mood for protests, Either he would unleash his contents through the safety valve of his cock-head, or his prick was going to blow up.
"Come on, baby, come on," he gasped. She had taken him this far, and she was going to suck him right over the edge!
Suddenly, the white-hot stream erupted, and Jane began voraciously gulping, drinking down the contents of his testicles. She sucked as she swallowed. As a result, even when he was finished, she managed to keep his cock stimulated and hard.
"It's my turn, lover," she told him, taking her mouth away. "Now you can fuck me."
CHAPTER THREE
Rocco Simmons looked like Clark Kent. He had that mild-mannered appearance, dark hair, glasses, a placid expression. But he was the hardest-boiled private eye in the business. He took jobs other P.I.s were afraid to touch. He'd been in and out of the downtown jail more times than most criminals, basically because the local police officials were always looking to pin something on him. But Rocco always managed to work his way out of trouble. If the police hated him, anyone against whom he worked hated him even more.
But women, almost all women, loved Rocco. Even women he trailed for divorce evidence loved him. Perhaps it was because he treated them in an old-fashioned way, with respect, even when they didn't deserve it.
Rocco never got sexually involved with a client. He knew the headache it would create if the woman would start bellyaching about how he had screwed her, and did he expect her to pay him too? He didn't have time for nonsense like that. When the urge hit him, he got his rocks off with some female or other of his personal preference. He was much better off avoiding clients.
There was only one woman with whom Rocco maintained a friendship, purely platonic. Their friendship stemmed from a time when Rocco had saved her life.
Marla LaValle had been married to Jack LaValle, who had run the finest information service around. But Jack had been ambushed and killed one night. Marla, intent on taking over her husbands service, had gone after his killers, using the techniques of the queen bee. She had lured them to her, one at a time, had actually slept with them, and then had killed them. Stung them to death, though in her case, it was with a poison-filled hypo needle.
But the last of the group had caught on. He decided that after sleeping with her, he would kill her instead of the other way around. Marla had managed to get away, however, and though the man had followed her, she had managed to survive because of Rocco. Wrapping up a job of his own, he had come across the man chasing her, and had broken the man's two arms and legs. After Rocco had walked away, Marla had returned and killed the man. From that day on, as far as Marla LaValle, or as she was now known in underworld circles, Queen Bee, was concerned, she owed Rocco Simmons a debt she would never be. able to repay.
From that point on, Rocco got all his quality information from Queen Bee free of charge. More important, if Marla discovered some male was after Rocco, she used her Queen Bee technique to stop that person--loving him, then stinging him to death. No man ever willingly made love to Marla LaValle, afraid she would sting him to death, as well. Somehow, though, Marla managed to satisfy herself with men who were unaware of her reputation, giving them the time of their lives, then leaving them. Thus the reputation of Queen Bee remained intact.
Rocco was the most ethical man George Hyde knew. Once hired on a job, Rocco never went to another job, no matter how much money was offered. Neither did Rocco accept offers from any one who worked counter to his clients' interests. His integrity was unquestionable.
George Hyde never questioned Rocco about his rates. Whatever the bespectacled detective charged, he was worth it.
Rocco had a small office in the heart of New York City, where he was able to look down on the teeming humanity that passed by every day and thing how lucky he was to be above it all.
George parked his car near Rocco's office, then hurried on into the building. As he approached the office, he saw the door was slightly ajar. He was ready to knock when he heard voices from within.
"I'm ready if you are, lover," he heard a sexy female voice say.
"Good thing these old fleabag buildings put in full bathrooms," George heard Rocco's voice say "Aren't you going to close the bathroom door?" the girl asked.
"Nah!" Rocco replied. "In case someone comes into the office, I want to know about it. Don't like surprises."
"How will you know?" the girl inquired.
"See the light over the bathroom sink?" Rocco was heard to say. "When someone walks from the outer office into the inner office, they break an electric eyebeam and the lightbulb starts blinking. Then I know someone's out there.
George stepped into the outer office very carefully and eased along, looking for loose floorboards under the ratty carpeting. He finally reached the doorway separating the inner and outer offices. If he hadn't been looking for it, he would never have spotted the small electric eye. It was just below his knees. He carefully stepped over it, then approached the bathroom and peered in.
For a moment, he hardly recognized Rocco. The man had his glasses off and was totally nude, as was the brunette with him. They were standing near the tub shower as the beautiful girl adjusted the water temperature. Her outstretched arms revealed fabulous full breasts with chocolate tips that stood out over her narrow waist.
As George Hyde took up his position at the bathroom door, Lisa Devery (as George was to learn later was the brunette's name) stepped into the shower, letting the jet streams his her.
Rocco's lanky, well-muscled body followed hers, and taking a cake of soap from the build-in soap dish, he began running it over he smooth supple back.
Her skin was sleek and glistening, demanding to be touched, and Rocco was never one to ignore this kind of delightful demand.
He swiftly worked up a lather with his hands, then reached put an filled his palm with one of her melon-like breasts. Slowly, he worked his fingers toward the throbbing dark mushroom of nipple and aureolae. His fingers pulled and massaged her nipple until it swelled and hardened. Then he turned his attention to the other breast and lavished gave it the same treatment until it matched its twin in hardness and length.
"Oooohhh!" Lisa gasped. "I knew you'd be good."
Rocco smiled. It pleased him to hear yet another woman fall prey to his talents. His expert hands flatly soaped their way along her belly and slowly down to the tangle of moss between her thighs. Abruptly, he slipped his middle finger into the tight division between her succulent labia. Gently, his exploring digit slid between the fleshy lips of her sweet vagina. He teased and taunted the love-bud of her clitoris, making her whimper and moan in sexual bliss.
"Oh, Jesus!" she wept. "You don't know what you're doing to me!"
Rocco was never quite certain how the girl managed the next maneuver, but he was pleased she did. Christ! She was a sexual marvel! How she managed to match her lithe form to his six-foot frame was difficult to comprehend. Yet she was wrapped around him, her legs gripping his middle, her left hand reaching down behind her, going beneath her body, grabbing his phallic extension and aiming the now engorged tip of it at the dehiscence between her trembling thighs. The acorn-shaped head of the phallus nuzzled up, then down, through the sodden fur surrounding her tantalizing cunt. Finally, it pushed its way into the hot crease between her inner lips.
Rocco's eyes moved to the light bulb for a moment-no, it wasn't blinking. He would be able to throw himself into this with his whole heart. The full length of his cock was now deeply entrenched in the fiery kiln of her simmering cauldron.
The young seductress stood, one foot on the edge of the tub, the other wrapped around his calf, straddling him as she humped back and forth, her pelvis moving in a gentle, caressing, teasing undulation. She literally screwed herself onto him, twisting around and around on the broad head of his masculinity.
Rocco's entire body tensed and he groaned out loud as the muscles of her vagina suddenly clamped down, crushing the thick pike within their confines.
George Hyde, staring, felt his own cock grow to full mast.
Lisa had Rocco firmly gripped, the spongy folds of her inner pussy sucked at his penis as if it were candy. The sensation was fabulous to Rocco. It was as if there were a hidden hand in her seething feminine vat.
Rocco moved his hand and wedged it between their water-soaked cores. With little difficulty, he found the clitoris and began manually teasing it.
"Oh my God!" Lisa screamed as his fingertip taunted her aroused little penis-like extension to vibrant life. Her foot pressed all the more firmly against the top of the but while her other foot threatened to pull Rocco's leg out from under him. Her pressured pussy began a series of squeezing and releasing motions with each swirling roll of her hips. She found herself screwing around and around the upthrust spike of prick as her hands tightened on his shoulders for better support.
"I'm ... getting there ... she groaned, gyrating and grinding her hips all the more quickly. "Close now!"
The pace of her undulating pelvis sped up as she drove herself toward the inevitable orgasm. She had to have it!
Rocco's body was trembling. His strong legs quivered, thighs and calves ready to turn to mush. His balls burned with mounting need as his pulsing cock continued its motion.
"GOD! OH MY GOD! I CAN FEEL IT!" Lisa cried out, her body trembling violently as she came.
As she descended from her pleasure flight, the black-haired temptress in his arms whispered, "Now! You come, too! It'll be perfect if you come!"
Rocco surrendered to the inner urges of his body. Lava flowed up from the center of his being and spewed from the pulsing tip of his cock into the sucking central Core. Semen gushed heavily from him to her, filling the quivering hold of her womanhood.
His legs were no longer able to support them, and slowly his knees began to buckle. Lisa quickly let her feet fall to the bottom of the tub, where she was barely able to stand. She leaned back against the tiled wall while the shower continued to rain down on them. For a brief moment, she was the one supporting Rocco. She remained that way while he finished emptying himself into her.
They stood, clinging to each other for a long moment while the shower rained down on their bodies. Then they kissed, each to let the other know of the satisfaction felt. Finally, Rocco turned off the shower, they got out, toweled one another off and got dressed.
When they stepped into the inner office, neither saw George Hyde, who was behind a window curtain. Rocco ushered the girl to the door and let her out. When he turned, he almost killed George Hyde. Seeing the man standing there, his hand instantly pulled the hidden derringer from his belt as he hit the floor and prepared to fire. But George remained perfectly still.
"Are you out of your mind!" Rocco yelled. "What the-hell are you trying to prove, sneaking up on me like that? Wanna git yourself killed?"
"Relax," George told him, perspiring a bit himself as he sat in the one chair Rocco had in front of the desk. Rocco, himself, sat in the chair behind the desk. "I have a job for you, body guarding, and it's a good one."
"Tell me about it," Rocco insisted.
"You'll get the full details on Saturday, when you come to my office. In the meantime, here's the gist of it. She's a twenty-six-year-old woman, strong-minded, extremely intelligent and about to assume a position of extreme power."
"You think someone might try knocking her off?" Rocco asked.
"Hell, no!" George shrugged, "but the will contains a lot of clauses. If the girl doesn't live up to them, someone else will take over. So let me suggest very simply and very quickly, that we prevent any outsider from doing something to make this girl break faith with the will."
"Such as?"
"Such as the girl is unmarried. The will stipulates that if she is unmarried at the time of the reading, she is to be checked by a doctor to be certain that she's still a virgin. Find a doctor we can trust-one who can't be bribed to slice her hymen out of her.
"Second, no matter how much she may object, see to it that no man puts sexual hands on her until her wedding night. That will be sometime within a month from the reading."
"This whole thing sounds crazy," Rocco insisted, shaking his head.
"Maybe," George shrugged, "but we have to abide by the terms of the will.
Harry Starr knew what he was doing. Want the job?"
"How much?" Rocco asked.
"Five hundred a day, plus expenses."
"Forget it!" Rocco snapped. "Since no one is out to kill the chick, it means I can't do any heavy strong-arming and claim self-defense."
"How much do you want, Rocco?"
"A minimum of twenty-five thou, plus expenses, plus whatever else I think I might have earned, up to another twenty-five thou."
"Why so much?"
"To guard this chick, I'm going to have to go to the Queen Bee and get some of her men. Aside from having the best info service in town, she also has a great protection service."
"I thought you got everything for free from her," George stated.
"For me, it's free. For someone else, the regular rates. This chick is not me. Well?"
"The Queen Bee is expensive," George deliberated, "but she's worth it."
"Yeah," Rocco agreed.
"So, I guess we hire the Queen Bee," George agreed.
"Smart move," Rocco nodded in agreement. "With those guys backing me up, I'll be able to do a first-rate job."
"I hope so," George sighed. "There'll be more than one person looking to keep this lady from ascending the Starr throne. She has a half-sister who'll be looking to get half the goodies. She'll be more than a little disappointed when she finds out what she's really going to get."
"Anyone else?" Rocco asked, making his tape recorder a little louder.
"Competition. They'll want to tear off a piece of Starr, and without the girl at the helm, they'll be able to do it. There'll also be a little inside rivalry, but for the most part, I don't think they'll touch the girl."
"Suppose you tell me about the Starr empire," Rocco insisted.
"Come on," George said, shaking his head. "Planetary Insurance, Meteor Banking, Comet Shipping, ASTRAL Oil, Galaxy Tankers, and whole host of other things. This is a giant conglomerate. Heavenly Products, a food group larger than Proctor and Gamble, Lever Brothers and Colgate-Palmolive put together. In Scandinavia, Starr Industries owns the Stern Auto Company, In Japan they own Murimoto Electronics, in Europe, they control most of the coal, iron, steel, copper, and rare metals companies. In Africa, they own Shooting Star Diamond Mines, in South America, they control Estrella Emeralds Incorporated. Total value of more than a trillion dollars."
"A trillion dollars?" Rocco gasped. "George, have you any idea how much that is? And all that goes to some snot-nosed girl?" Rocco asked, incredulous.
"You'll get the full details at the reading of the will," George told him. "This girl is going to need a bodyguard, and in more ways than one way."
"Who's the lucky bridegroom?" Rocco asked.
"To date, there's no one in mind," George responded. "But the girl will definitely be married one month from the reading of the will. It's one of the stipulations."
"This Harry Starr sounds like he was a nut."
"The man was total genius," George answered. "I'm heading home, Rocco. Just be at my office on Saturday, okay."
"Right," the tough, bespectacled investigator nodded. "I'll have the Queen Bee with me."
"Fine," George nodded his approval. Then, after shaking hands on the deal, he left.
CHAPTER FOUR
Norris Allman was no longer a youngster. The sixty-seven-year-old widower, in charge of the accounting department at Starr Industries, scratched his wrinkled jaw as he looked over the computerized readouts again. No doubt about it, someone was stealing again. It was a clever way of stealing, Norris had to admit. Had anyone else been reading the computer readouts, the thief would have gotten away with it. But Norris was so used to these computerized printouts, nothing escaped his keen eyes, even if he had to wear glasses to keep those eyes that way.
Norris was short, and to some, he actually looked downright ugly, with thinning gray hair, a short nose, prune-like features, and a strong jaw. To his now deceased wife, Norris had always looked like a Greek god. To him, she had been Aphrodite-incarnate, and when she had died seven years earlier, Norris had crawled into a quiet shell, living solely for his work, nothing more. His work was to make certain all the accounts at Starr industries balanced, a mammoth task no one would have been able to perform had not everything been done by various computers in advance. Norris always completed the final readouts, catching items no one else would have been able to spot.
He had spotted what looked like an error, and had run some computations through the machines, only to discover the monumental theft. He performed a step-by-step analysis, checking, rechecking, cross-checking. He was finally able to narrow everything down to one department. From there, he was able to narrow everything down to one man-Alan Kling.
It would be have been easy to confront King with it, but first, Norris had to know why Kling was stealing. After all, the man earned in excess of eighty thousand a year. Norris, himself, earned close to half a million a year, which made him fiercely loyal to the company.
The fact that Harry Starr was now dead didn't change things for Norris. It was to the company himself that Norris owed his allegiance. Now that Starr's daughter was about to take things over, Norris would show her the same fidelity he had given her father. If the woman had a brain in her head, she would realize that, while no one was indispensable, Norris definitely made things easier and more profitable.
It had taken weeks, but Norris, through judicious work on his own, finally discovered why Alan Kling was stealing. No, it wasn't gambling, nor was it women. Alan Kling was a pragmatist, intent on going into business for himself, eventually. But it looked like he wasn't about to settle for a small business that might be built up over a period of time. Alan Kling wanted to start big, very big. He had slowly siphoned off millions from Starr Industries.
The greedy Kling was still draining, so he evidently hadn't reached his goal yet. He had done a good job of covering himself. If the shortages had been found by anyone other than Norris,, the blame would have gone to five other people, some even in different departments. Kling was clever, that was for sure.
It was now Friday evening, and Norris decided it was time to confront Kling. It was after business hours, and everyone else had .left the Tower Building, including Alan Kling. But Norris was fully familiar with Kling's habits, and knew where he could find him easily enough.
He waited outside Lindy's where Kling went to eat every Friday evening, almost always with two different women, neither being his wife. The poor woman rarely saw him on weekends. The only favor Kling had done for her was to keep her as beneficiary in his large insurance policy, a policy that was more than two years old so the suicide clause would not be invoked.
"Mr. Kling," Norris called out just before Alan had a chance to enter the restaurant.
Kling saw Norris and recognized him immediately. Confident he would never be found out, he never gave the subject of his theft a thought as he strolled over to Norris and said, "Mr. Allman, I didn't know you ate at Lindy's."
"I don't," was Norris' reply as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his topcoat. The weather was turning chilly, and Norris felt it sooner than most.
"What is it, then?" Kling asked, a little less confident now.
"I came here to talk with you," Norris told him. "Tell the bimbos to take a hike. You won't need them, Mr. Kling."
"Hey," the girls objected to the obvious insult. "What the hell...."
"Shut up!" Kling snapped, handing them each a fifty-dollar bill. "Take off!" Then he turned back toward Norris and asked diffidently, "What's up?"
"Let's take a walk," Norris ordered.
They moved through the crowds of people headed down Forty-Seventh Street toward the west side, Norris remaining silent until they'd reached the dock area.
"So?" Kling asked, not being able to stand the suspense any longer, "what's up?"
"I've found how you managed to steal from Starr," Norris said very quietly. "I thought I should let you know."
"What the hell can you do about it?" Kling snorted. "Even if I stop now, you'll never be able to prove I'm the one who took anything."
"I'm not bothering to prove anything," Norris shrugged. "Since I discovered how you did it, I pulled off some computer wizardry of my own and put all the money back. You're dead broke, now, and you're fired! If you try coming back to Starr Industries, I'll have you tossed out, bodily. So do yourself a favor and scram."
"I don't need you," Kling snorted again. "I can get a job with any similar outfit...."
"The word is already out not to hire you," Norris replied. "I don't have to give reasons, and you know it. If you try taking me to court, I'll have to show the judges why I fired you, and how you stole. You're through, Mr. Kling."
Alan Kling simply stood there staring at Norris, unable to believe the older man. His face slowly suffused with rage, and he roared at Norris, "I ought to kill you."
"So kill me," Norris shrugged. "I've already left a note to the effect that if I disappear, it's because of you. I've left it where you can't get at it. You're all washed up, Mr. Kling. Finished."
Without another word, Norris turned away from an ashen-faced Alan Kling. The latter began to understand the implications of what Norris had told him. All his dreams had suddenly come to an end. Not only that, but there was virtually no hope of his ever getting any kind of job where he'd be able to filch such money again. He was used to living high on the hog, and everything he had saved had been from what he had stolen. He was virtually penniless, with no prospects of ever being able to earn a good living again.
Alan Kling was a man of strong moods. He had been highly elated when he had been stealing from Starr Industries. Now he suddenly hit the bottom of depression. Seeing not way out for himself, and without thinking twice, he ran out along one of the nearby piers and hurled himself into the water.
As he hit the wet surface, he suddenly realized that he really didn't want to die, but no one was around to hear his splashing struggles or his screams for help.
Kling yelled for what seemed like an eternity as he tried clawing his way up the lichen-slippery pilings along the docks. But he was unable to pull himself up, and his water-logged clothing slowly began pulling him under. He had splinters under his fingernails as he sank for the last time.
Meanwhile, Norris was walking south along the docks, about a mile from where Kling had jumped into the water. Here, along the docks, it was almost cold. Winter was coming rapidly, and soon it would be freezing.
As he walked, he saw a halo of gold ahead of him. It seemingly bounced and wavered, getting brighter rather than dimmer as it passed beneath street lamps. As he got closer, he realized it was hair, the golden hair of a female. Whoever it was, was heading for the end of a dock.
"No," Norris thought to himself hurrying toward the gold hair. He wasn't about to be a willing witness to someone taking their life. His frantic footsteps on the wooden dock drew the girl's attention, and she turned to see who was following her. Under normal circumstances, she might have been terrified, but she was so despondent and bent on suicide, she didn't care. She just stood there, on the edge of the dock, as Norris approached. He was directly under a street lamp when he stopped, and she had her first good glimpse of the almost-wizened looking man.
"Wh-who are you?" she stammered.
"Nobody important," he assured her.
"Go away."
"No."
"Go away, damn you,"
"No. I've never watched anyone jump before," he told her. "Go on," he prodded. "It should be interesting."
"Y-you're crazy," she gasped in her girlish voice.
Now that Norris had had a chance to look at her, he realized she was no youngster. She had to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Still, she was beautiful, really beautiful. He wondered why such a lovely woman would want to kill herself.
"You're the one who's going to jump, and you call me crazy?" Norris mocked.
"Suicide is a personal thing," she insisted.
"Suicide is a stupid thing," was his reply. "Nothing is worth taking your life for. Nothing is so bad that it can't be worked out."
"You're mistaken," the beautiful blonde disagreed. "Now please go away."
"Do me a favor," Norris requested. "Come with me, talk to me over a cup of coffee. If it's as bad ad you say, we'll commit suicide together."
"You really are crazy," the blond shook her head in disbelief.
"Crazy Norris, that's me," he agreed. "What's your name?"
"Diane," she replied. "Diane Kaye."
"Well, Diane Kaye, come, we'll sip coffee. It's a lot better than wallowing around in that cold water. If we drink enough caffeine, we'll do just as good a job of killing ourselves."
Unable to help herself, Diane giggled. Miserable as she was feeling, there was something about the man that made her smile against her will.
"Come!" Seeing her weakening, Norris held out a hand.
Diane didn't want to respond, yet found herself lifting her hand placing it in Norris'. His fingers gently curled around hers, but he didn't tug. He waited patiently for her to step forward, away from the edge of the dock, and move toward him.
Fifteen minutes later, they walked into a STEAK & BREW on the Great White Way. In addition to the cup of coffee, Diane also allowed Norris to buy her a steak. He ate one as well.
"Now," Norris said, after they had finished eating, "tell me what all this is about?"
"I was married," Diane answered, looking down and not at Norris. "I had a wonderful marriage, wonderful kids. Well, to make a long story short, my husband had this friend, and this friend wanted me. I told him to take 9 hike, but the friend didn't give up. He went to my husband, told him all kinds of lies about me and showed him doctored photos, supposedly of me, in bed with a motorcycle gang, taking on three and four men at once."
"My husband refused to believe I wasn't involved. He divorced me, took the children and the house. He left me with nothing, no alimony, nothing.
"When I tried seeing my children, he had a court order issued saying I was an unfit mother. When I tried finding work, he sent word around that I was a tramp, so the only people willing to hire me were people who wanted to use me. It got so depressing, no matter how hard I tried."
"So you tried killing yourself?" Norris asked.
"Why should I go on living?" Diane asked, lifting her big, brown girlish eyes to meet him.
"Because as long as you do live, there's always the hope something can be done to change things," Norris told her. "Kill yourself, and your children will never see their mother again. Your husband is a fool. Where are you staying?"
"Nowhere," Diane shrugged dejectedly. "I had a little money, and I stayed at a boarding house for about two weeks. When my money ran out, the owner kept my clothes. I have nowhere to go."
"You can come with me," Norris told her.
"Where?" she asked.
"As long as it's not the bottom of the river, should you care?"
"Please;" she pleaded, "I'd rather be dead than lose my self-respect."
"Do you really think I would take advantage of you?" he asked.
"She looked at him long and hard for a moment, then murmured, "No, no I don't. It's just ... it's just that so many men have...." she trailed off.
"Hush!" Norris insisted. "I have a big empty house with many bedrooms. Other than my own, you can have your pick of any one of them. We'll put you back on your feet, and then you can decide what to do."
"This is sort of a loan, right?" Diane asked. "I mean, I have to pay you back, right?"
"Naturally," Norris nodded, knowing he had to assuage her ego at the moment. Assure her she had the right to repay him, if she wished. He didn't know shy, but he felt something tugging at him when he looked at her. She was so helpless, yet so lovely.
It was more than the feeling of a father for a daughter. Norris felt stir rings in him he hadn't know for many years-not since he had stopped making love to his wife. But he would not try taking advantage of the girl. She needed his help, and he would offer it to her. She was in dire straits at the moment, and he would not add to her misery.
It wasn't love. She was too young for him. Besides, love didn't blossom this quickly. Still, he treated her as if she were his new found love. He took her home to his Westchester estate and showed her around the large home where he lived, the lavish rooms. He told her to treat the place as If it were her very own. He even helped her select a bedroom. When she insisted it be next to his, he tried moving her to the other end of the house, but she was adamant that she felt safe being near him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Norris waited while the girl used the shower at the end of the hall. When he was certain, she was safe in the cocoon of her new bed, he decided it was time for him to relax and get some sleep. However, Norris was all wrought up and sleep eluded him. He needed to relax, so he decided to take a sauna. He didn't use the sauna that often, but now and again, it was good for baking out the aches and pains of the day.
Setting the burglar alarms to keep intruders out, Norris made his way down to his basement, a finished basement, where he walked across the black and yellow tiled floor to the little room which housed the sauna.
After setting the sauna controls, he undressed while waiting until the temperature was just right. He had brought his robe with him so he wouldn't have to dress to go back upstairs.
A few moments later, he stepped naked into the heated sauna where he was met by a blast of hot air which overwhelmingly slammed into his body. He waited a moment to acclimatize himself to the heat, then walked over to a wooden wall bench and sat, letting the sweat pour freely out of him.
He lay back, shutting his eyes, as he let the worries of the day disappear. Heat oozed through him, and slowly, his body began to calm down.
Suddenly, a blast of cool air hit him, causing him to shiver. He heard the click of the sauna door as it shut, and sitting up, the totally naked man found himself staring at an equally naked Diane.
God! She was breathtaking to behold! Her flesh was the color of cream, with just the slightest touch of rosiness that meant health. She had firm, grapefruit-like breasts with nipples that still pointed straight ahead with no hint of sag. The hairs at her pelvis were as gold as those on her lovely head, revealing she was a true blonde.
He sat up abruptly. It took an effort on his part not to cover his genitals. The. girl stared at him, not smiling, but no longer the sorry creature he had recently kept from jumping into the river.
She took a step forward, and he saw the rich pink under the golden fuzz on her pelvis. "Norris!" she murmured softly, her eyes flashing in a sensual manner. "You took me in," she whispered. "You didn't ask questions, you didn't make any conditions. You kept me from killing myself. I don't know why, but I do know I'd never be able to live with myself if I simply took without giving."
She moved toward him with slow, deliberate steps, her wide hips moving in an almost exaggerated fashion. Then she was standing over him, her rich eyes staring down into his, and Norris quivered. He wanted her so much, yet she had to answer his questions before he'd allow anything to progress.
"Please, Diane," Norris whispered hoarsely. "I'm an old man, an ugly man. What do you want from me?"
"You're only as old as you believe yourself to be," Diane countered. "To me, you're the handsomest man in the world. I'm not just doing this out of gratitude. I feel something for you, maybe love, I don't know. My husband is the only other man with whom I've ever slept. Norris, if you say no to me, you'll drive me right back to the depths of despair."
Norris had no desire to say no. His wife had been lovely, but never, even at her best, had she had a body like this. But it was more than the body, more than the girlish voice, more than her beauty. It was the woman herself. There was that certain something about her that caused Norris to feel feelings he had not felt since his wife. He was too pragmatic to believe she would stay long enough for it to turn to love, but this was the way love had begun for him once before, many years earlier.
Diane caressed the side of his face, and before he was able to physically react, she leaned forward, her full breasts dangling enticingly before him. His eyes tried staring between the rounded globes, but her dangling nipples, like ripe fruit, drew his stare to one breast tip then the other.
Then Diane leaned down even more, and her face blocked his view as her mouth pressed to his lips, her dainty tongue flicking against his, taunting his own tongue and teasing his teeth as she gently aroused him.
Unsure whether or not to give free rein to his desire still in somewhat of a state of shock, Norris simply remained where he was, feeling a lurch in his groin. He knew his cock was suddenly standing at full mast, something that hadn't happened since he had last been with his wife.
The blonde's inciting oral digit continued flicking through his mouth as her trickling fingers slid across his neck and then to his naked shoulders. They rested there for a moment, her fingertips drawing small circles on his flesh, then continued their journey, her palms sliding across his chest, massaging him.
"Norris," the beautiful blonde whispered again, speaking into his mouth, "it's not just gratitude, believe me. My husband, at his best, never showed me the kind of concern you showed me. All of us respond to people who show us love. Although I didn't realize it until tonight, I never knew what it was to receive love, even though I tried hard to give it to my husband, he never really cared. If he cared, he never could have believed those lies about me. You're a man who does care. Norris, take what I have to offer. Don't turn it down, please. I'm offering it with all my heart. In letting me give you some of this love I've had stored up inside me, you'll be doing me the biggest favor in the world. Please!"
"Diane," Norris murmured raggedly. "Love is something that takes time, lots of time...."
"Why?" Diane asked, kissing him again. "Why must we wait days, weeks, or even months. For the first time in my life, I know something is right. Norris, this isn't payment. I want to live with you, always. I haven't the right to ask you to commit yourself to me legally, but I'll be only too happy to work for you, to clean your home...."
"No," Norris murmured. "I have maids to do that. I'll take you to work with me, teach you a business, so one day you'll take my place when ..
"When you retire," she finished, refusing to let him hint at the idea of dying.
"But you're still so young and lovely, and I'm a dried up...."
"Really?" she asked, her hand moving lower and caressing his stiff cock, making it shudder, its rich purple tip turning a shade darker as more blood filled it. "I want it, Norris. Why it's bigger than the one sported by my husband. I'll bet you're more of a man than he'll ever be. I want to be your lover," she insisted, kneeling in front of him.
Her hands caressed his weighty testicles, making him tremble even more. She had a delicacy about her that reminded him so much of his departed wife. As her nails ran delicately along the underside of his prick, he gasped and jerked forward.
"It's so beautiful, Norris," she breathed. "I swear to you, it's only the second male erection I've ever seen, but compared to my husband's, it's so masculine." Her eyes were riveted on the palpitating stalk, her nails gently, lovingly, teasingly moving up and down along its length.
"But someday you'll tire of an old man like me...."
"I'll never be tired of any man who loves me," Diane insisted. "My husband treated me shabbily, and I still showed him love. I cared for my children, washed, cooked, cleaned, and learned to be an expert at making love from a host of books I read. But it was never appreciated by the man. All he cared about was what some liar told him. I've never had anything to do with any other man-until now. Norris, I'm yours if you want me. I'll be yours as long as you wish;."
His pulsing prick twitched with livid anticipation, while the feathery tips of her sweet fingers continually taunted the rich magenta head. The older man moaned softly as the beautiful blonde began swirling a fingertip around the penile head, making it twitch. Diane's other hand reached down and cupped the sac of his testicles, her thumb rubbing up and down the wrinkled container. In the hot room, her sweaty palm was still relatively cool. She squeezed the head of his cock lightly between pinched fingers as her other hand rolled the stones of his balls in her balm. His throbbing shaft jerked all the more strongly, and a tiny drop of clear fluid oozed from the narrow hole in the tip.
"Please," Norris croaked, "think about what you're doing. You're so lovely, still so young. Don't throw yourself away on an old man like me. You can do so much better for yourself."
"No, you think about it," Diane insisted. "I don't need a lot of time to think about something like this. You feel the same magnetic attraction I feel. I swear by my life, I'll never sleep with any other man as long as I'm with you. From now on I live to make you happy. Allow me to lavish some love on you.
She leaned forward and pressed a hungry closed-mouth kiss against the under side of his organ. Then her mouth opened, and she popped the nut-like head between her lips and sucked, draining away some of the colorless lubricant. Her flicking tongue, against the webbing where the underside of his corona met the rest of his prick, produced even more fluid.
When her head eased back, a smear of colorless oil on her cheek, she smiled and got to her feet, murmuring, "You want me, Norris, I know! That wonderful cock of yours isn't capable to lying."
She came closer to him, one of her hands reaching out to cup the nape of his neck. She pulled him closer, offering the tip of her left breast to his mouth.
"Suck my nipple, Norris, suck it, please ... please"
His mouth opened as if of its own volition, accepting the wonderful offering of her delectable nipple. It was a rich pink button that swelled into a nubbin when his lips closed around it. He pursed his lips and began sucking strongly.
"God!" Diane gasped. "That feels wonderful! Her body swayed, and she shoved more of the milk-white breast flesh into his hungering lips. "Mmmmm! It's more wonderful than I had ever dreamed.
Norris wanted this wonderful blonde.
He instinctively knew that she was telling the truth about him being only the second man to touch her. It meant a lot to him. He wanted to bury his bone-hard length of cock into the tight tunnel of her steamy cunt.
"Your finger," she urged. "Touch me down there first with your finger. Make me nice and wet so I can accept the thickness of your cock. Finger-fuck me Norris!"
Moved by a raging desire that mounted ever higher, he let his finger wander between her labia. Leakage came spilling down on his hand, making him aware the heat was not on his side alone. She was in dire need of sexual relief, and Norris realized that she truly wanted him.
Diane quaked in response to the probe of his middle finger as it sawed in and out of the tight succulent trench between her thighs. Then she was reaching down, gripping his wrist, and slowly withdrawing her finger from the sucking center of her womanhood. "Please!" she whispered feverishly, "I want to feel what it's like to have your cock inside me!"
As Morris sat back on the wooden bench, his back firmly supported by the sauna wall behind him, she eased his legs together with his cock firmly standing between them. She spread her own thighs, slowly, very slowly lowering her lovely body onto his lap. The still column of his vibrating cock now shuddered against the pink well of her cunt.
Carefully, Diane raised her feet so the soles were planted on the bench, and her buttocks were all but digging against Norris' thighs. Her knees seemed to run vertically up the wall on either side of him as she edged forward, her arms around his neck to keep her upper self from falling back. She tugged herself forward just a little, rubbing the pouting lips of her sweet vulva against the upthrust staff of his quaking cock.
Norris could scarcely believe a girl this innocent in appearance was so skilled and knowledgeable when it came to sex. But then, she had been married and had admitted to reading about a lot of ways to try to keep her husband's interest. In her quest to please her husband, she had become and out-and-out expert in the ways of sex.
Her left hand let go of his neck as she reached under her buttocks to grasp the meaty shaft of his marvelous cock. Norris watched as the girl maneuvered the hammering crown of his sex organ between the waiting splayed lips of her feminine gash.
Slowly, very slowly, she began lowering her slick, hot cunt around the upward brad of his cock. Norris looked down and was greeted by the erotic vision of his pulsing penile prodder slowly disappearing into the gapping maw of her tight oily clamps. As Diane slipped down those last precious inches, a want such as he had never known before, even with his beloved wife, filled him. There was a lust here that transcended love itself. Unless he was really falling in love with this young gorgeous creature.
This woman was fabulous. Her clinging cunt was like a glove. Her inner membranes stretching to fit over his prick like a condom. Her pelvic muscles squeezing, massaging his throbbing root, lodged securely in the luxurious folds of her inner core.
Norris' 'balls lurched up and down. The fact that he was entrenched in a cunt after years of self-imposed abstinence had him hotter than the proverbial firecracker. Hell! He felt like a young kid getting his first piece of ass. But he had to do something in a hurry to bring her to his own level of arousal, or he would be unleashing his sperm inside her before she was ready.
His left hand slowly drifted down until he found the excited nubbin of her clitoris, and he began massaging it firmly.
"Ohhhh ... yes, Norris, yes ... ," she moaned. She lifted her body, inch by inch, stopping only when his glans was all that was left inside her. Then she lowered herself, falling like a ten ton safe. She rose once again, sucking his life essence out through the tip of his cock, and this time lowered herself very slowly, swallowing his hard cock into the pulsing refuge of her slavering vagina. All the while, he kept a finger working fervidly against the bud of her clitoris.
The pressure against her clitoris was working, and her own fervor was mounting to match his. She rose and fell with greater rapidity, slamming harder against his thighs. Her moans grew into one long, loud whimper, her pelvis twisting, turning, undulating and writhing, squeezing then relaxing inside, milking her newfound lover with tantalizingly tight contractions.
Sizzling charges of lust threatened to consume Diane. She bucked insanely, jerking up and down, totally out of control, surrendering herself totally for the first time to pure fucking.
She cried out as she came, her entire body a single unit of pure release. "Now!" she begged, grunting. "Give it to me now, Norris!"
And give it to her, he did, spewing sperm uncontrollably into the center of her creaming cunt. Hot thick fountains of sauce spurted from the hole in the tip of his cock, filling the chalice of her vagina. He filled her with every last drop of seed in his body, and at the same moment felt his strength ebb. He simply sagged against the wall.
Diane, herself totally beat, fell against him, having given herself up to orgasm as never before. This sweet man had offered her more in this one coupling than she had ever known in all the experiences she had shared with her husband.
"Norris," she whispered, pressing herself close to his sweat-sticky chest. "Norris, I know this sounds crazy, but I think I'm madly in love with you, a man old enough to be my father."
"I'm almost old enough to be your grandfather," he taunted, though both knew it was untrue.
"What does age matter, Norris?" she questioned. "For the first time in my life, I feel rapture and bliss."
"Don't get sloppily sentimental," Norris teased.
"You love me, too, Norris," she insisted.
"Love is something that grows over a period of time. Right now I lust you, Diane."
"I have the feeling it's a lust that's going to get bigger as time goes by," she insisted.
"What makes you so certain?" he wanted to know.
"I measure lust by the growth of a prick," she replied
"So?"
"So, you just came, right?"
"Yea."
"Then how come your prick is already starting to grow inside me? Oh Norris, I think we're going to have a wonderful future together if you just let it happen."
She was pushing, straining for a commitment from him. It was obvious she was afraid to go out into the world alone again. She needn't have worried. She had a home with him as long as she wished.
CHAPTER SIX
Though George Hyde had a large office, it was crowded that Saturday afternoon. Moira, her mother, and Rocco Simmons, the private eye were already there when Jane and Hugh Walker arrived. A few minutes later, the notorious Queen Bee walked in, a slim, sinuous woman with the dangerous kind of beauty that made men flock to her, even with the knowledge that coupling with her might result in death. She had large dark eyes and a short turned-up nose. Today, she was dressed all in yellow, which complimented her dark-brown hair.
With her was her personal bodyguard, Geoffrey, a hulking man with a high forehead and a ring of fuzz representing a beard and small mustache. Geoffrey was always silent, always dangerous. He worshipped the ground Marla LaValle walked on. A devoted, silent slave, he would kill, if necessary, at her command and never question why.
Norris Allman was there, and with him was Diane. He and Diane had enjoyed a total of three orgasms apiece before finally going to bed. Diane never went back to the bedroom assigned to her. She slept with Norris in the kingsized bed he had in his master bedroom.
The moment Diane saw Moira, she decided she liked her face. There was no reason or explanation for it. She simply liked Moira's face, and when Moira looked her way, Diane smiled. Moira, returned the smile.
George Hyde welcomed everyone and sat them in assigned seats. "We're all here, so I'll go about reading the will."
"Get to the bequests," Jane snapped.
George nodded and began reading.
"FIRST, I ACKNOWLEDGE ONCE AND FOR ALL THAT JANE WALKER, BORN JANE STARR, IS INDEED MY DAUGHTER OUT OF WEDLOCK, AND NOT MY BROTHER'S DAUGHTER. I REFUSED TO ACKNOWLEDGE HER IN THE BEGINNING BECAUSE HER MOTHER WAS A ROTTEN WOMAN. THEN, WHEN I FELT A SOFTENING TOWARD JANE, SHE TOOK ON HER MOTHER'S ATTITUDE, MAKING ME DESPISE HER, AS WELL. HOWEVER, SHE IS MY DAUGHTER, AND AS SUCH, DESERVES RECOGNITION. TO THAT END, I BEQUEATH TO MY ELDEST DAUGHTER THE SUM OF ONE MILLION DOLLARS ANNUALLY, TO BE SPENT ANY WAY SHE WISHES. HOWEVER, SHOULD SHE QUESTION MOIRA'S RIGHT TO THAT WHICH I LEAVE MY SECOND DAUGHTER, THE MILLION IS TO BE FORFEITED, AND SHE IS TO RECEIVE NOTHING."
Jane sat unmoving. When her hand twitched, her husband grabbed and held it. Inwardly, she was seething. A million dollars a year? That might seem like a fortune to some, but it was peanuts compared to control of Starr Industries. Harry Starr's personal income each year had exceeded eight figures-after taxes, and Jane, as the eldest daughter, felt she had a right to all that money. She'd keep her mouth shut for now, though.
"IF," George Hyde continued reading, "JANE LEGALLY CONTESTS MY WILL IN ANY WAY, ALL BEQUESTS TO HER ARE TO BE NULL AND VOID."
"TO NORRIS ALLMAN, MY FAITHFUL ACCOUNTANT WHO WAS THE WATCHDOG OF STARR INDUSTRIES, I BEQUEATH THE LIKE SUM OF A MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR OVER AND ABOVE HIS EARNINGS, PROVIDED HE CONTINUES TO WORK FOR MY DAUGHTER AS FAITHFULLY AS HE DID FOR ME. AND PROVIDED HE TRAINS SOMEONE TO TAKE HIS PLACE-SOMEONE WHO MY DAUGHTER, MOIRA, WILL BE ABLE TO TRUST AS SURELY AS I HAVE TRUSTED HIM. NO MAN EVER HAD A MORE FAITHFUL WORKER."
"THE BALANCE OF MY ESTATE, INCLUDING CONTROL OVER STARR INDUSTRIES, I LEAVE TO MY DAUGHTER MOIRA, BUT UNDER THE FOLLOWING CONDITIONS: FIRST, IF SHE IS MARRIED AT THE READING OF THIS WILL, SHE IS NOT TO CONTEMPLATE DIVORCE. EMOTIONAL UPHEAVALS, I LEARNED ONLY TOO WELL, CAN CAUSE MANY BUSINESS MISTAKES. IF, HOWEVER, MY DAUGHTER IS NOT MARRIED, SHE MUST SUBMIT TO A MEDICAL EXAMINATION FOLLOWING THE READING OF THIS WILL TO PROVE HER VIRGINITY. I WILL NOT HAVE MY DAUGHTER TURN INTO A TRAMP LIKE HER MOTHER AND JANE'S MOTHER. IN LIFE, I WAS AN OLD-FASHIONED MAN WITH OLD-FASHIONED BELIEFS, AND MORALITY WAS ONE OF THEM IF MOIRA PROVES NOT TO BE A VIRGIN, THEN CONTROL OF STARR INDUSTRIES IS TO IMMEDIATELY GO TO JANE, WHO I KNOW TO BE MARRIED."
A hard glitter twinkled in Jane's eyes. At last, at last she had a weapon to use against Moira without being directly involved in any way. She knew Moira once had a hankering for Hughie. Well, she would not see to it that Hughie gratified that hankering.
"IF, AFTER AN EXAMINATION, MY DAUGHTER, MOIRA, IS FOUND TO BE PURE, SHE WILL TAKE OVER LEADERSHIP OF STARR INDUSTRIES. HOWEVER, A SINGLE WOMAN CANNOT LONG REMAIN STABLE IN THE BUSINESS WORLD. A GOOD WOMAN NEEDS A HUSBAND TO KEEP HER CONTENTED. THEREFORE, WITHIN ONE MONTH FROM THE DATE OF THE READING OF THIS WILL, MOIRA WILL BE MARRIED, OR SHE WILL LOSE CONTROL OF STARR INDUSTRIES. IF SHE IS UNABLE TO SELECT A MAN, HERSELF, MY ATTORNEY, GEORGE HYDE, IS TO CHOOSE ONE FOR HER. SHOULD MOIRA REFUSE TO MARRY BY THAT TIME, SHE WILL ONCE AGAIN LOSE HER INHERITANCE TO HER HALF-SISTER."
Moira winced. She didn't know any man she wanted to marry. This wasn't fair! What was her father doing to her?"
"FURTHERMORE," George Hyde continued reading, SHOULD MOIRA, FOR ANY REASON, LOSE HER VIRGINITY PRIOR TO HER MARRIAGE, SHE IS TO FORFEIT HER INHERITANCE TO HER HALF-SISTER. MOIRA WILL, THEREFORE, SUBMIT TO A WEEKLY EXAMINATION, FOLLOWING THE INITIAL ONE, UNTIL SHE IS MARRIED."
"IN ORDER TO QUALIFY AS A LEADER OF STARR INDUSTRIES, MOIRA IS TO MOVE OUT OF HER MOTHER'S HOME AND TAKE OVER MY PENTHOUSE AT THE TOP OF THE STARR BUILDING. SHE IS TO MOVE INTO THE TOWER IMMEDIATELY. SHE WILL NOT ONLY LIVE THERE, BUT FROM THERE WILL CONTROL STARR INDUSTRIES. THE TOWER OF POWER WILL CONTINUE TO PROVE TO BE WELL NAMED."
"TO MICKY, MY ONLY LEGAL WIFE, I LEAVE THE HOME ON WHICH I HAVE BEEN PAYING TAXES ALL THESE YEARS. MOIRA IS TO CONTINUE PAYING THE TAXES ON THE HOME. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS MICKY TO BE ALLOWED TO LIVE IN THE TOWER. MOIRA MAY VISIT HER MOTHER FROM TIME TO TIME, BUT SHE MUST NOT LIVE IN THAT HOME ANY LONGER. THE TOWER WILL BE HER HOME."
"That's about it," George Hyde concluded. "Well, Moira, are you agreed?"
"She agrees," Micky all but shouted.
"But mother...." Moira gasped.
"The power is there," Micky replied. "It's time to cut the apron strings. You're twenty-six and should be on your own."
"Fine," George Hyde nodded. "Then Moira, you have to visit a gynecologist today. Rocco, have you picked one out?"
The bespectacled P.I. nodded, saying, "I'll take her there myself."
"Who arc you?" Moira asked, a little frightened.
"Calm down," George Hyde said to her. "He's your new bodyguard."
"You're kidding," Moira laughed. "Why do I need a bodyguard?"
"There are those who would love to see to it that you lose your inheritance," George told her. "Rocco will make certain it doesn't happen. From now on, or at least from the time the gynecologist pronounces you a virgin, that hymen of yours will be guarded day and night."
"You knew all about this, didn't you," Moira accused her mother.
"Yes," Micky nodded. "That's why I wouldn't let you do anything with all those boys you dated. You have power now, Moira, lots of power. Power to do anything you want."
"But I have to get married in the next month, and I have no idea...."
"Everything will work out," her mother assured her.
"Norris," George said to the head accountant, "have you any idea who you'll train to take your place?"
"Diane," Norris replied, nodding at the blonde at his side. "She's highly intelligent. Over a period of time, she'll do as good a job as I've done."
"Do you agree?" George asked Diane.
"Y-yes," Diane assented when Norris nodded at her.
"Does Diane meet with your approval, Moira?" George questioned.
"I'm sure she'll be perfect," Moira smiled her approval at Diane.
"Fine. Jane, are you going to contest your father's will?"
"No." Jane sullenly replied. "But I want to talk to you, George."
"Stick around, then," George nodded as most of the others rose to leave.
Rocco nodded at Moira while looking at the Queen Bee. Marla LaValle merely nodded back and quietly whispered to her bodyguard. The giant, Geoffrey listened, then nodded.
"Who is she?" Moira asked Rocco, referring to the Queen Bee.
"She's your one guarantee of protection. Come on, I have to take you to the doctor. Don't worry, he can be trusted."
As they walked out, Moira's mother following, Jane whispered to her husband, "Hughie, follow her, then call me when she settles down in one place. My bitchy half-sister is about to lose her virginity whether she likes it or not."
"Don't do anything to forfeit that million a year," Hugh cautioned.
"All or nothing, Hughie, baby," Jane snapped. "Now move your ass!"
Except for his wife and George Hyde, Hugh Walker was the last person to leave the attorney's office. He knew Jane, knew her only too well. When she got a bug up her ass, there was no way to get it out So he shrugged and simply accepted what was going to happen. He was surprised her father hadn't known that Jane screwed around on the side. He was surprised there hadn't been some clause in the will concerning her fidelity.
As soon as Hugh was gone, Jane locked the office door, then turned to George Hyde and said, "I promised I'd make it memorable for you if the will turned out to be good news, George. I think that was rotten news."
"Your father wanted to leave you out altogether, and I convinced him otherwise. That should be enough to put you in my debt, Jane," George insisted.
"You bastard," she raged. "I don't owe you shit!"
"You owe me your cunt," George replied, "and I'm going to collect." You know I'm telling you the truth. I not only had him mention you for that million a year, but it was my idea to make you the next heir in case something happened to Moira."
Jane paused for a moment. At this point, it was important to keep George Hyde on her side. She had to convince him that, if anything did happen to Moira, she, herself, was not involved.
George walked over to the wide leather couch at the far end of his office, and sat, motioning for her to do the same. She did so, and abruptly, he put a hand on her knee, saying, "I promised you something worthwhile, and a million a year is not exactly a kick in the ass, considering Harry might have left you a whole lot of nothing. I've been after that ass of yours for some time now. I think the first installment of what you owe me is due about now."
His hand had been constantly moving higher as he talked, and now his fingers traversed the elastic legband of her panties, probing the bare, shaven pussy. Finally finding the soft, moist pink slash below her pelvic mound, the fingers delved a bit farther, finding the hot button that was Jane's clitoris. It throbbed slightly as the ball of one finger pressed against it.
Jane felt Shockwaves shoot through her as he massaged her clitoris in its soft, protective canopy of flesh. She leaned back, splaying her legs wider apart, tilting her pelvis invitingly upward, offering George full access.
"Damn you, George," she moaned. "I wish I weren't so addicted to sex."
She reached for him, then. Boldly, knowingly, her delicate fingertips moved down to his crotch, expertly opening his zipper, slipping inside, and yanking out his already hard erection, making it completely available. A hot, delicious tremor shot through her as she gazed at it's thickness, admittedly greater than many she had known. Her pelvis undulated as her inner loins became ignited with intense flame. There was no turning back at this point.
Reaching around George, she began unbuckling his belt. Her hands pinched his butt, making him lift it just enough so she was able to tug his pants below his knees. As George kicked off his shoes and shed the rest of his clothes, Jane got to her feet and hurriedly began removing her dress, then taking off her half-slip and undies, leaving on her high heals and stocking with the garter belt.
She fell to her knees on the carpet, and just as George was beginning to anticipate some head, she lay, belly-down on the carpet, spreading her thighs wide.
Placing his two hands beneath her, he hoisted her to her knees, his palms massaging her sweet furrow and clitoris. The white, smoothly sculpted thighs spread all the more, giving him even better access to her slit.
George slowly moved his head forward, his hot breath bathing the succulent area, making Jane quiver. His mouth locked against the rich coral nether lips of her sweet vagina. His tongue flicked into her, tasting the smooth velvety softness of her wonderful cuntal flesh.
The swift, sucking intake of Jane's breath was clearly audible in the otherwise silent room, letting him know how much she loved what he was doing to her. She wanted more, had to have more. Her hips pressed stolidly back against his face, rotating in wild circles. He whipped his lathered tongue through her oily pussy, rubbing the sensitive walls, the excitement of it mounting higher and higher as she began moaning in ecstasy.
"Oh, God! George, yes! Do that! Eat me, George, eat me!" Her voice was a low, deep groan of lust as her hips twitched in time to the way his tongue worked through her.
His tongue continued its salacious working, and the man's pulses were pounding uncontrollably, and his penis throbbed in perfect time to his heartbeat. Great droplets of oil fell from the burning tip. Oh Jesus! He needed to get his cock into her!
"Now!" Jane cried out, as if divining his need. "Fuck me now!"
George kneed his way closer to her, and the swollen, blood-bloated head slipped neatly into the wet silken opening as George gasped and thrust his hips forward. For all her experience, she was tight, and he had to push hard.
"Ooooh ... you're so big ... so nice," Jane gasped. "Use it, Gcorgie-Porgie, and make me feel really good."
Jane pushed back against the man, struggling to make things easier for him as he slowly entered her. He hips wriggled and gyrated in an effort to widen her womanly pandiculation. She literally screwed her hot cunt onto the bolt of his cock. It felt lovely to impale herself on what felt like an ever-increasing and expanding phallus. It pushed in, one inch, two inches, four inches, deeper, ever deeper. Then, with a final effort and a flick of his hips as far forward as possible, he drove into her with all his strength, shoving the last punishing half of his organ almost through her back wall. He gasped and grunted in satisfaction when his hairy pelvis ground against the rounded cheeks of her behind, his dangling balls swinging freely and grazing the shaved lips of her vagina, beating at her clitoris.
George reached out to both of Jane's hips, holding them as he slowly began pushing, then pulling, pushing, then pulling, moving in and out, in and out; slowly at first, each time ramming his cock its full length back into her and pulling out until only the minaret-shaped tip was inside the dewy tunnel of her clinging womanhood; then with ever increasing speed and shortened strokes, driving with demon-like force.
Jane hurled her buttocks back at him with equal fury, absorbing his driving length to the fullest with every hammering slam, reveling in the wonderful sensation of his magnificent power as the great, rampaging cock continued to fill and refill her.
"Ggggnnnngggghhhh ... ready ... ready to come ... yesssss ... she gasped, her anguished hips shoving back at the length of his plunging cock as it continued its hurried movements.
She was frantic in her efforts to reach satisfaction. Her body almost a blur as she moved more rapidly. Then, when it seemed as if she would break down from exhaustion, she was there.
"I--I'MMMMM COMMIINNGG!!!" she shrieked.
Her hands reached behind her, and then behind him, her nails digging into the cheeks of his ass, shoving him more tightly to her as he pounded into her for more wonderfully agonizing strokes.
Then his white glue was spraying into her, surging through his hose like spray from a fireman's hose.
George, out of breath, fell on top of her, and she collapsed onto the floor. It was one of the all-time greatest climaxes Jane had ever enjoyed, and George had to admit that the woman was damn good; almost as good as Micky Starr.
After what seemed like a long period of time, George pulled his softened organ from the sticky depths of Jane's pussy.
"You're all right, Georgie-Porgie," Jane panted. "Yes, you're all right. We'll have to do this more often."
"Oh, we will," George assured her, "as long as you don't do something stupid like trying to take Moira's inheritance."
"Me?" Jane asked innocently, getting dressed. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Be smart," George insisted. "Moira's guarded by the best in the business. No one's going to get to her."
"Just keep your cool," Jane soothed.
"Fine. Now, for the next month, if you wish, you can bring Hughie and live in the Tower with Moira. If, for any reason, she should forfeit her right to control Starr Industries, you'll be right there to take over."
"That's a great idea," Jane smiled. "We'll move in this evening."
CHAPTER SEVEN
In another city, a telephone was being answered by a mysterious figure known only as Steve. He heard a voice at the other end say, "Steve, an envelope will be arriving shortly, .and in it will be twenty-five thousand dollars. Please follow the written instructions inside. Memorize them, then burn them."
"I like to know in advance what I'm supposed to do," Steve insisted.
"Something quite pleasant," the male voice at the other end replied. "You're to fuck a particular female." .
"For that, you can get yourself some wharf rats," Steve declined the job.
"Not at all, " the voice was quick to elaborate. "I want more than mere sex. It must appear the young woman is not only a willing participant, but is the actual aggressor. In fact, it would be even nicer if you took movies. In the movie, the young woman must appear downright promiscuous."
"Is she, in real life?" Steve asked.
"In real life, she's still a virgin," the voice replied. "That virginity must be taken right out of her. But it has to seem as if she's initiating the actions. Use your special talents."
"It can be arranged," Steve reconsidered. "but twenty-five thousand will hardly suffice. To rent a decent camera will require some bucks."
"How much?"
"An additional fifty thousand dollars," , Steve replied.
"Half the balance will be forthcoming in two days, the rest, when the job is completed."
"Fine," Steve nodded. "I'll set everything up wherever you wish."
"The instructions will be explicit," the voice replied.
* * *
Jane Walker was in the home of her friend. She wanted a backup in case Hugh chickened out, so she had gone to see Bonnie.
Bonnie was a tiny little thing, with black hair, black eyes, and a voluptuous shape. Except for Jane, she had no female friends. The basic reason for their friendship was that Jane had once helped Bonnie out of jam. Jane knew about Bonnie's hanging around with a motorcycle gang, and she figured at one time or another she might have use for such people. Well, the time had come.
"Well, kid, what brings you here?" Bonnie asked her friend.
"I thought you might need some money," Jane replied.
"A little bread always comes in handy," Bonnie nodded.
"How about a lot of bread?" Jane asked. "Say, about five hundred."
"Five hundred! Wow! Kurt and I could go to California with that kind of loot. Who do we have to kill?"
"No one," Jane smiled. "But you might do me a small favor."
"Hey, you just name it, Janey-baby."
"You remember my half-sister?"
"Yeah, what about her?"
"How about, you get your buddy, Kurt, and his friends to gang-bang her?"
"Hey, they'd love that," Bonnie smiled.
"I want the boys screwing her, but the deal here is that you have to make her willing for it. What's more, I want it on tape. I want you to record her saying that she's willing."
"No problem, Janey-baby," Bonnie smiled. "Kurt'll do anything I want. Just as long as I do anything he wants."
Jane shuddered at the mental picture she had of an animal like Kurt putting his hands on her. Not that he was bad-looking. A high forehead, a Hitler-style mustache. But he also had a Hitler attitude about everything. He had loads of iron crosses decorating his bike, as well as the usual swastikas.
"This is my half-sister's picture," Jane went on, showing Bonnie a newspaper photo of Moira. She handed Bonnie another piece of paper, saying, "As of this evening, this will be her address. She'll be inaccessible in that tower, but try and grab her when she comes out. As I understand it, she'll be in the back of a blue Mercedes limousine with a license plate saying STARR."
"Got it!" Bonnie nodded. "Consider the chick well-fucked."
"I figured I'd be able to depend on you, Bonnie."
"Hey, what are chums for?" Bonnie asked as she showed Jane to the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Starr building was a marvel of engineering, years ahead of its time. It was made of marble, shaped like a con-' cave cone rising to a point.
The second floor from the top was where Harry Starr had kept his own private business offices. There were fifteen rooms in the duplex tower. Each had its own private TV monitor from which business might be conducted, if necessary. Even in his living quarters, Harry Starr had kept an eye on everything.
Moira stood on the threshold of the living room and stared. The place was more luxurious than most palaces. The finest woods made up the furniture and the finest wool went into the carpeting. The draperies were heavy velvet, all a royal purple to match the carpeting.
Her father's bedroom was an austere room, matching his character. Unable to find a faithful woman, he had been known to take a variety of women to his bedroom, each for only one night. After a single time, he simply paid her off and sent her on her way.
"I want the canopy off the king bed," Moira told Seymour, her father's and now her own butler.
Seymour was a short man with white hair. At first glance, he seemed nondescript, but his blazing eyes allowed nothing to get away. He had also served as a part-time bodyguard to Harry Starr, and would do the same for the man's daughter. He too would make sure she had no sexual encounters with anyone in the tower until she was married.
"Yes," Miss Moira," he acknowledged her request.
"I want mirrors on the ceiling," Moira continued. "I'm supposed to be married in less than a month. If I'm going to have sex with my husband, I'm going to enjoy it."
She walked over to the monitor in the room and pressed a button. The screen came to life, and she saw Norris Allman sitting at his desk with Diane, explaining the basic working of his department to her. Though she didn't put on the audio, Moira saw Diane seemed to be catching on quickly. Good!
Another press of the button, and she was tuned in on another department, and then a third, a fourth, and so on.
"It'll take time to get the hang of all this," she said to Rocco, who had come to the tower with her. "I hope you have patience."
"I'm paid to have patience," was his reply. Rocco was a handsome man, which Moira would be the first to admit. The man was rough around the edges, but he had a definite attraction. Each time she looked at him, she felt her heartbeat speed up a bit. But she would have to control herself. She controlled the most powerful organization in the business world, but only as long as she proved herself capable and was untouched while unmarried and faithful once married.
Rocco admitted to himself that he was more than a little attracted to Moira, but he did have that long-standing rule about not getting personally involved with female clients. The girl was lovely and intelligent, but she was certainly naive when it came to being a female. He knew street-wise women who made Moira look dumb when it came to being female.
Somehow, she seemed to be rubbing him the wrong way. Under normal circumstances, he would tell the client to take a hike when something like this happened. But it had been George Hyde who'd hired him, not Moira.
"Shall I bring coffee?" Seymour asked.
"A small pot should be sufficient, please. Bring two cups. I'm sure Mr. Simmons would like some, too."
"Very good, Miss," Seymour nodded, and walked away.
"You take to being boss pretty well," Rocco commented.
"I either take complete control immediately, or they'll walk all over me," Moira replied. She walked into the large den, sat behind the large horseshoe shaped desk and began studying some of the reports on his desk. She was amazed at how quickly she began picking up everything, understanding it. Now she understood why her mother had forced her to go to business school and study so hard. The school of experience would now replace business school, but what she had learned stood her in good stead. There was still a lot to learn, and it would take time. She had to keep a firm, though not unyielding, hand at the controls until she better understood every thing.
Rocco, watching her as she sat behind the desk, felt his pulses stir. God! She was some kind of woman, this one. Twenty-six, naive in so many ways, yet obviously smart enough to take over for her father, and ready to do so. Shit! Right now she was at his level, but in a little while, she would be real class and out of his reach.
Christ! He felt his cock jerk. Moira was beginning to get to him, no doubt about it. It might be a good idea if he used some of the Queen Bee's girls to watch over her most of the time.
"What are you thinking?" Moira asked astutely, seeing the way he screwed up his face.
"Something personal," he replied.
"You don't like me, do you," Moira suddenly insisted. "You think I'm a punk female who had no business suddenly in the business world."
"Oh?" Rocco asked. "Are you also a mind reader?"
"Let's be frank," Moira continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "I know you're being paid to guard me, but you're actually looking down on me, thinking I'm not much of a person if I can't look after myself, right?"
"Cute, clever, and in need of a spanking," Rocco replied. "Don't try digging into my brain, lady. I'm sure you don't give a damn what I thing about you as long as I do my job."
"I've never known anyone like you," Moira went on. "Ever kill anyone?"
"At least two people a day," he answered. "I haven't reached my quota yet today, so don't push me."
"I don't need snide remarks," Moira snapped. "I don't think we're going to get along."
"Well, golly gee, that's going to ruin my whole day," Rocco mocked.
"I think I'll have George Hyde replace you."
"No refunds, lady," Rocco all but roared. "Besides, you have no complaints about the way I'm doing my job."
Just then, Seymour walked in with the coffee. As he set the try down on the coffee table, near the sofa where Rocco was sitting, Moira called out to him, "Seymour, part of my father's instructions was for me to get a husband. Did he make a list of people he felt to be good eligible men?"
"Yes, Miss Moira," Seymour nodded.
"May I see it." she commanded.
"Certainly, miss," Seymour left to do her bidding.
Rocco starred at her, seeing the glint in her eyes. It was as if she was letting him know that she going to get even with him for daring to talk back to her by having him around when she finally made her selection of a life mate. He shook his head, clucking.
"What's bothering you?" Moira asked.
"Bothering? Nothing," Rocco replied. "I'm just amazed that you're behaving like such an infant."
"I beg your pardon?" she asked.
"What are you trying to do, get even with me by looking over a list of eligible males in front of me, as if to let me know a guy like me will never have a chance to get a woman like you?"
"What a ridiculous idea!" Moira was indignant.
"Tell you what," Rocco told her. "I'll have a few female bodyguards come up here while you start playing eeny-meeny-miney-moe with the list of boyfriends your father has picked out."
"Go on," Moira challenged. "It'll just prove that in spite of the fact that I haven't been thinking about you at all, you are bothered by the prospect of my selecting an eligible male."
"I couldn't care less how you screw up your life," Rocco shrugged, realizing he was coloring a bit.
"Well, all you have to do to prove it is hang around while I start checking out my would-be future husbands."
"Aaaah ... do what you want," Rocco snorted as Seymour returned with a small notebook and handed it to Moira.
"Thank you, Seymour," Moira smiled. She opened the book and read.
Rocco picked up a magazine and leafed through it. "The hell with the little high-handed bitch!"
After a while, Moira rang for Seymour again and asked, "Where is the observation room, Seymour?"
"It's next to the master bedroom," Seymour replied. "There's a two-way mirror in there. When you press a button, a panel lifts, and the master bedroom darkens so the people in the observation room can't see into the master bedroom. But you'll be able to see everything taking place in the observation room."
"Are these candidates aware they'll be performing?" Moira wanted to know as she scanned the list again.
"No, miss," Seymour answered. "The arrangement is to have each man enter the room separately on the pretext of discussing a business merger. None of them are aware they're marriage candidates. Otherwise, they'd only be thinking in terms of what they might be getting, money-wise. The observation room is to be used not only to view sexual performances, but to listen to their business acumen and see which one might have a good head for assisting you in the running of Star Industries."
"Well, then," Moira smiled. Let's get the show on the road. Suppose we set up an appointment with Jack Acre, say for Monday. Have him here by eleven."
"Very good, miss." Seymour nodded, "however, you should have your secretary take care of that. It will sound more convincing coming from the secretary than from myself."
"Fine," Moira nodded. "Who is my secretary?"
"Meg Sievers," Seymour replied. "She's off today, it being Saturday. But if you want her to work on a weekend, she'll do so."
"Monday will be fine," Moira nodded, "but have her call Jack Acre and ask him to come here on Monday. I presume she'll do the honors in the bedroom."
"Yes, miss," Seymour nodded.
"You don't mind if I don't hang around to watch that sordid nonsense," Rocco snapped once Seymour had gone.
"You're my bodyguard," Moira replied. "I'll expect you to do your job. If I'm in my bedroom, watching what takes place in the observation room. I want you there alongside me."
"Next you'll have me sleeping in the same bed with you at night."
"You wish," Moira taunted.
"Hah!" Rocco roared. "You have to be kidding! You're a spoiled brat. I don't sleep with children!"
"I'm twenty-six," Moira almost yelled. "That hardly makes me a child!"
"Some of us take longer to mature than others," Rocco taunted. "I know of sixteen-year-olds who are more mature than you."
"Just because I don't spread my legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry...."
"Cut the bullshit!" Rocco snorted. "I'm talking about emotional maturity, not sexual experience. Little girls like you think they're such hot stuff, but in reality, you'd never turn me on."
Rocco was lying, and he knew it. At that point Moira was too incensed to realize it was a defense mechanism on Rocco's part.
"So I can't turn you on, huh?"
"You got it, lady!"
"We'll see," she murmured to herself. Aloud, she said, "Perhaps my secretary can turn you on. I want you alongside me Monday morning. As for sleeping arrangements, there's a large dressing-room right off my bedroom. I'll have a cot put in there for you."
"Yes, ma'am," Rocco bit at her.
He realized his fists were clenched. No woman had ever made him react this violently. "Damn this bitch!" he cursed her silently.
"Now I want to visit my mother," she insisted. "Come on!"
"Silently and sullenly, Rocco followed her to the elevator.
CHAPTER NINE
The large blue Mercedes limousine moved quietly through the streets, Rocco at the wheel, taking place of the regular chauffeur. He looked right and left, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror, making certain they weren't being followed except by the two cars belonging to Queen Bee. He recognized the two woman in each car.
Except for Geoffrey, the Queen's personal bodyguard, the only people working for the Queen Bee were females. They were her "workers."
"We're almost at your mother's house," Rocco told Moira, keeping the glass partition between the front and read seat lowered. "We have to be careful now. A lot of people are out to nail you."
"The same way you're out to nail me?"
Moira taunted.
"Let's just stay off the subject of me for the moment. You do everything I say, and you'll be all right."
They pulled up in front of her mother's house, and Rocco immediately got out of the car and looked around. Once he was certain no one was hiding nearby, he motioned for Moira to get out. She did so, and let him around to the rear of the house, where she used a key to open the back door, calling out, "Mother, it's me!"
She walked from the kitchen into the living room, and saw her mother tied to a chair. Turning, Moira saw Rocco slumping to the floor as four men stepped into the room holding, one holding a gun by the barrel, having just applied the butt to Rocco's head.
"Not a word," the mustached man who looked like Adolph Hitler warned her.
"What to you want?" asked a frightened Moira, the adrenaline pumping inside her.
"We want you," Kurt Mills told her.
"No!" Moira screamed as a sack was suddenly thrown over her body, pulled down to her ankles, and strings drawn tightly, pulling her off her feet.
She tried to struggle, but was unable to move inside the confines of the bag which also effectively muffled her screams. She felt herself being tossed, over a shoulder and bodily carried out.
They carried Moira through the garage and dumped her inside a waiting truck, then slowly drove away. Half an hour later, they were pulling up behind the Greasy Rose, their usual hangout. They hurriedly carried Moira inside, dumping her on the floor and pulling the bag off.
"Wh-what are you going to do?" a dazed Moira gasped.
"Me?" Kurt Mills laughed. "I'm not going to do a thing. You, you are the one who's going to do something."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're going to beg us to fuck you-all of us." He showed her the tape recorder, putting it behind the bar, out of reach, but not out of hearing.
"You're crazy," Moira breathed. "I'll do no such thing!"
"You'll do it," Kurt laughed nastily.
"I'll never do a thing like that," Moira insisted.
"Sit down," Kurt commanded, pointing to a chair. "We can wait for days if we have to."
But Kurt was mistaken. Moira didn't even have time to contemplate the possibility of neither food nor water.
The front door burst open, and two women walked in, at the same time, two others burst through the back door. All four holding Uzi machine pistols.
An absolutely stunning blonde, who Moira would later learn was named Fran, barked, "First man to move gets to heaven or hell very quickly."
"What the hell is going on?" Kurt yelled. He always yelled when things didn't go his way.
"Big mistake, trying to kidnap Moira Starr," the blonde told him in a soft, deadly voice.
"A very big mistake," another voice added, and through the front door came Queen Bee with Rocco Simmons.
"Oh no!" Kurt gasped. "God in heaven, no!"
"So you know me." Marla LaValle stated.
"I didn't hurt her," Kurt all but screamed. "I didn't rough her up at all. I wasn't going to harm her."
"What were you going to do, Kurt?"
Marla inquired.
"I ... uhhh ... wouldn't have done anything she didn't want," the Hitler-faced man insisted.
"Oh? What did you want her to want you to do?"
"He wanted to screw me," Moira broke in, her voice surprisingly calm.
Queen Bee smiled, "So you want some sex, eh Kurt?"
"Hey, come on, I wouldn't have forced her," Kurt denied.
"Of course not," Marla smiled. "I'm not going to force you to do anything either. In fact, we'll drink on it. Bartender," she said to the quivering mass standing behind the bar, "set up Mr. Mills' favorite drink. What does he like?"
"B-beer," the bartender replied.
"Well, pour a beer for Mr. Mills and all his friends," Queen Bee instructed. "I'll have one with them."
The beers were poured and sent down the length of the bar. Each one passed Marla, whose hand passed over the tops.
"Y-you're going to poison us," Kurt whined.
"I don't poison good beer," Marla laughed. "Sorry, Kurt, no poison. Now drink up! All of you, drink with me."
The hands of Kurt and his men were shaking as they picked up their glasses, but they didn't dare drop anything. They were horrified, knowing the reputation of Queen Bee.
"Down the hatch!" Marla insisted.
She tossed off her own glass of beer, and stared at Kurt, who sipped at his. Laughing, she snapped, "All of it, Kurt. Every last drop."
He forced himself to drink it, as did each of his men when they saw the four women raise the muzzles of their guns.
"So," Marla LaValle continued where she'd previously left off, "you're looking for sex. Well, I have just the woman."
She snapped her fingers and a woman walked through the door.
"Now look at a really beautiful woman," Marla La Valla was saying. "She's blonde, stunning, just right."
Kurt stared, his head a little fuzzy. It was difficult to see through the haze of his mind, but as Marla LaValle talked, everything seemed to appear just as she said.
"She's voluptuous, full-breasted, with a face anyone would love. What would you like to do to her, Kurt?"
"I'd love to lick her cunt," Kurt gasped, unable to believe how beautiful the woman was, "and then ... and then."
"Yes, Kurt?"
"I'd love to fuck her. God! What a great face! I'm sure she had a great ass, too."
"Dottie." Marla LaValle instructed.
"Undress!"
The beautiful woman began peeling off her low-cut dress before Kurt's eyes. Suddenly she was totally naked, looking even more stunning, a white-skinned body the way Kurt had always loved a woman to be.
"Turn around, Dottie, let Kurt see your ass."
In front of all the onlookers, the woman turned, and Kurt salivated. Her ass was exactly as he had imagined as ass should be.
"Lie down on the bar, Dottie," Queen Bee instructed.
Dotty walked over to the long, narrow bar and lay down, spreading her tantalizing alabaster thighs wide apart, revealing the rich rosy hue of the orifice between her legs.
Kurt, unable to believe his good luck, stared, then slowly staggered toward the bar as Marla said, "You first, Kurt, then each of your men."
"What a beautiful brunette," one of Kurt's men mumbled as he stared.
"A gorgeous redhead," another said.
Kurt was standing right next to her now as everyone other than Dottie and his men slowly filed out.
"Will Dottie be alright?" one of the women asked, as they left.
"Dottie is always alright," Queen Bee assured her. "She'll follow along when the men have finished with her."
Kurt's hands were already moving up the soft insides of the woman's thighs as she squirmed on the bar and muttered, "Mmmmmm! Good!"
Kurt slid his finger along, parting the soft, radiant golden pubic hair all over her sweet young slit. This was the woman of his dreams for whom he had waited a lifetime.
Kurt suddenly found himself on the bar, lying against her, the dark hairs on his chest rubbing against her body. Her delectable pink nipples rubbed against him, causing sensation to charge through him. How he had become naked, he didn't know. If this was the way Queen Bee punished men, then Kurt wanted more of her punishment.
Kurt moved his finger along the soft moist flesh, seeking and finding the delicate clitoris. It bobbed from side to side as he rubbed it with the ball of his finger. She spread her thighs all the wider, giving Kurt total access to her most secret inner self.
A dizzying wave of lightheadedness swept over Kurt. Could the beer have been doctored? He laughed. What if it was? Hell, he'd pay to be doctored this way any time. He had never felt so free of tension, so eager to satisfy the woman he was with.
Slowly, Kurt moved up to cover Dottie and eased into her, loving the feel of her beautiful flesh as it tightly encircled his stiff member. Unlike his usual roughshod approach to sex, Kurt was easy, gentle, savoring every moment. For the first time in his life, he was really conscious of the pure pleasure people could give to each other.
The blonde was moaning, lost in her own pleasure, and suddenly, Kurt was seized with a desire to please her, to make her see that he was the best lover she had ever had.
"Dottie! he whispered hoarsely as his cock twitched with pleasure. "This is the most wonderful experience in my life."
"Mine, too," she whispered, placating him. "And we have Queen Bee to thank for it." She twisted her hips, and took as much of him into her as she possibly could.
Kurt felt Dottie moving against him, imploring him to pleasure her, and he began moving again. Then suddenly, he realized one awful thing-he would never be able to face Bonnie again.
Sweet Bonnie! Kurt's chest heaved with a deep-felt moan of regret. How could he have treated that semi-innocent woman the way that he had? He knew now that his lack of any regard for her as fellow human being was no doubt responsible for her personal descent into a form of negativity. Her base sexual appetites and practices were little more than a reflection of his own coarse and sordid ways.
Hazily, Kurt heard sobbing, and as he looked around, he realized that each and every one of his men was experiencing very much the same thing that he was-a profound deeply-felt regret for wasted lives and evil deeds. Was there any way: any way at all that they could somehow make it up?
Dottie was gasping for air, her pleasure so intense by Kurt's slow lovemaking. Her pleasure spasms encouraged Kurt to stroke faster until he found himself on the cliff lip of boiling orgasm. Dottie's whimpers of pure pleasure were the spark needed to detonate Kurt's own pent-up pleasure, and he gasped with delight as the first jolts made his thighs quiver and the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He gave himself over to the most powerful orgasm that perhaps any man had ever felt.
Kurt was but dimly aware of the roar of approval that greeted his obviously overwhelming orgasm, and as kind hands lifted his now semi-conscious form from that of Dottie, Kurt felt himself smiling, totally relaxed, luxuriating in his newfound power to do good.
He could hear the sounds of the others as they delighted themselves in the arms of the mystic Dottie. The woman who had been sent to them by unseen powers to initiate them into a new world of higher, ore conscious being. From now on his life would be dedicated to the needy, the homeless, all those unfortunates who needed service in the face of a hostile and selfish society. He knew the others would join him, and that was perhaps the greatest good.
CHAPTER TEN
Sunday proved-to be an uneventful day. Rocco was taut-faced and Moira knew why. She knew that he hated the thought of her having seen him lying on the floor of her mother's home, knocked unconscious by the band of kidnappers.
That was what was so puzzling. How had Queen Bee been able to so quickly take control of that bunch? Moira had never known a more low-life group.
She now broke the silent truce she had going with Rocco as she put that question to him.
"It was easy," he replied sourly. "Her research lab is always developing new toxins. Mostly of the frightening and horrible sort, but sometimes their experiments go awry. Instead of a deadly poison, they came up with an aerial spray that does nothing but inspire people to do good." You saw the results of that spray yesterday. Of course, it has no effect on those to whom doing good is a part of their lives, but when sprayed in the direction of sub-humans, the effects can be startling."
"But that woman...." Moira began, but Rocco cut her off.
"She was incidental. Anything that they were involved in would have served the same purpose. They would have first seen the utter futility of their lives, then felt awesome pangs of remorse and regret for the dastardly acts they have committed, and finally they would surrender to a power that they felt was not only greater than themselves, but also a power capable of helping them make something out of their previously worthless lives."
"Wow," Moira's head was reeling. So much was going on in the world that she didn't understand. Suddenly she knew that her father's desire for her to secure a life's mate was exactly what was best for her. She needed someone with her, someone who could be trusted, someone who she could lean on.
She glanced at Rocco, who had turned away and was staring moodily out the window. She knew he was still upset by his sub-par performance. She knew that he was a proud man who rarely wound up on the losing end of any battle, and to have it happen in front of her must have been deeply galling to him.
Moira sighed as she headed toward the den to pour over more corporate records. The naive girl didn't know what to say or do to put him at ease.
* * *
Monday proved to be something else. First, Jane insisted on moving into the Tower. According to the will, she had every right to do so until Moira's marriage, or until Moira lost control of the company and Jane could take it over, whichever came first. Moira had no idea how she was ever going to tolerate her half-sister as she hated her about as much as Jane hated Moira.
Secondly, Monday was the day the search was to begin for her new husband.
"1 don't like this business of watching a bunch of guys fucking your private secretary," a grouchy Rocco told her.
"Well how the hell else am I supposed to know how well they perform in bed?" Moira retorted.
"There's more to a marriage than the bedroom," Rocco insisted.
"I know there is," Moira agreed hotly, "but I'll be double damned if I'm going to end up with some clever business partner for a husband who doesn't what to do with his God-given equipment! Since every one of these men is supposed to be near or above genius level in the business world, in that respect, it doesn't matter which one I choose. So, first and foremost, I want to find out which one is the best in bed, then I want to find out which, if any, has a personality that won't clash with mine. When I discover a man with whom I'll be sexually compatible, and I see him capable of blending with me on other-than-physical levels, I'll take it from there."
"This isn't going to be easy," Rocco mumbled to himself as they walked into her bedroom and over to the mirror against the far wall.
Rocco noted that her bed had already been made and there was no sign that Moira had slept there the previous night. However, just looking at the huge bed where he knew she had spent the night bothered him. Though his policy had always been to avoid involvement with his clientele, he knew his feelings for this particular woman transcended all rules and regulations. He told himself it was pure lust and nothing else. But if it was just lust, it was an overpowering lust. Perhaps part of it came from an urge to punish her for being so ... what? Obstinate? Stubborn? Beautiful? Tantalizing?
Damned it all to hell, she was all those things and more! There was a certain something about her that elevated her head and shoulders above all other women he had ever known. He wanted this woman so bad, he had gone to bed the night before with blue balls.
"This has got to stop!" Rocco snapped to himself, as Moira pressed the button that would cause a panel to slide back. The room curtains were automatically closed, and the room went dark. On the other side of the mirror, the observation room was brightly lit.
"I can probably dig up half-a-dozen movies more arousing than what we're going to see," Rocco commented.
"I have no desire to marry a movie stud," she retorted. "I want to see how arousing a genius-level business executive can be. He not only gets points for stamina, but for originality and innovation.
At that moment, a door opened, and Meg, Moira's secretary,, walked in. She was a lovely girl, her brown hair cut short, punk-style. she was well-stacked, and the robe she was wearing did little to hide that fact.
The door opened and closed again, and a somewhat portly man walked into the room. He had black hair, round cheeks, a black mustache, and was wearing a three-piece dark-blue suit.
Though Moira and Rocco were able to hear what was going on in the observation room, they were able to speak in normal tones without being heard.
Rocco took one look at the fat man and sputtered, "You have to be kidding. That tub of guts?"
"Now, now, shame on you, Mr. Simmons," Moira pouted. "Since when do you judge a man by his weight?"
"I don't like fat women, myself," Rocco snorted.
"Well, let's see how well Mr. Acre can perform," Moira taunted.
"Originality, hah!" Rocco snapped.
"And stamina," Moira continued.
"Oh, come on," Rocco shook his head, watching Jack Acre undress and reveal a body covered with layers of fat. "Do you really want to have all of that lying on you?"
;
"Hush!" Moira silenced him and turned her attention to Jack and Meg. Meg had also gotten undressed, revealing the lushness that had been hinted at beneath the robe.
"You're a beautiful girl," Jack was heard to say. He revealed an extraordinarily long, thick prick with a big ruby head. It was already hard, which proved that he was easily aroused.
Meg lay back on the bed and spread her thighs, fingering her vagina, saying, "I can take your weight, Mr. Acre. Go ahead, just throw it in me."
"Don't be silly," was Jack's reply. "You need a bit of a warm-up. Jack eased between her plump thighs and bent his face to her steamy vagina. Mirrors positioned strategically throughout the room gave Moira and Rocco a close look at what was being done. Jack's bristly mustache was tickling Meg's labia, turning them from soft pink to rich coral, to ripe red. His tongue leaped out, spearing into the lovely division, and Meg jumped, letting Jack and the two viewers know he had touched a "hot button."
"Ohhhh ... yes ... yes...." Meg moaned, clasping her thighs tightly around the man's head, tugging on his long black hair with her hands, pulling his face deeper into the tantalizing crevasse of her vagina.
"He has an educated tongue," Moira remarked to Rocco.
"He also has a lot of guts, performing this way," Rocco countered.
"Oh he doesn't know he's being watched," Moira told him. "He merely thinks Meg is going to help make the choice for me."
"He had an I.Q. of more than 140 and he believes that?" Rocco scoffed.
"Oh shut up!" Moira snapped, reddening as they watched Jack's tongue do a thorough job on the tasty through between Meg's legs.
Meg tensed, gasped and suddenly a splash of hot, colorless lubricant washed Jack's face.
"My God, that was fabulous! Meg panted.
"Only the beginning," Jack assured her. "Stand with your back to me, please."
Meg did as the man asked, while he smilingly walked over to a large easy chair in the room and sat in it.
"Now, back up toward me," he requested.
The girl did as he asked, her thighs hitting his knees. He made sure she was bent forward, then bending forward himself, he used his thumbs to part her brown-fuzzed cunt and once again applied his tongue, delving into the sweet furrow and extracting hidden juices. Meg's buttocks wobbled from side to side as she panted again.
Pulling his face away, he tugged on her hips as he sat back, and she fell into his lap. He hoisted her thighs on the arms of the chair while she remained facing away from him, then used his palms to lift her solid, meaty buttocks.
"Okay," Jack murmured, "while I hold you, put my cock into your cunt."
Meg reached down, grabbed his meat-spike, brought the head forward until it touched the opening of her sweet twat, then slowly introduced it to her juicy tunnel. The tendons in her thighs were clearly visible in at least of the mirrors, tautly stretched as she centered the pulsing shaft. From the way she wiggled, it was obvious her cranny was tingling.
"He's good," Moira whispered to Rocco. "He definitely cares about his sex partner. Notice how he made her come before doing anything. Even after she came, he took the time to get her hot and bothered again."
"What the hell do you know about sex?" Rocco taunted. "You're still a virgin, remember? All the movies in the world won't really educate you the way experience can."
Meg was gasping with the cock-head at the entrance of her oozing cunt. She suddenly lost her grip on the arms of the chair and fell straight down, spearing herself to the central core with a single drop.
Jack held her steady as she quivered for a moment. Then using a firm but not painful grip on the full cheeks of her buttocks as a lever, he began rocking her gently from side to side. At the same time, the lovely secretary slowly began lifting herself, then lowering herself. Up, then down, up, then down. She moved faster, faster, and faster, impaling herself on the upthrust organ.
"Jesus!" Jack gasped, able to see Meg's face in one of the mirrors from where he sat. "You have to one of the loveliest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
"See," Moira murmured, "he even takes the time to compliment her. I like that, I like it a lot."
"Unnnnh!" Meg gasped. "You're really great!"
She levered herself up and down, applying her thighs to the armchair. When he leaned forward and kissed her back, she shuddered. His hands reached around from behind and filled themselves with her breasts, his fingers tugging on her painfully erect nipples, stiffening them even more.
Abruptly, Meg twisted in his lap, her body turned so that her lower half still sat facing away from him, while her upper half was almost in profile to him. This gave him a chance to lean around with his head and nibble at her left breast. She shuddered again, another minor climax wracking her.
"He is good!" Moira muttered, emphasizing each word.
"Oh, hell! He's an amateur!" Rocco insisted.
"I suppose you can do better?"
"You'd better believe it!"
"Prove it! Suppose I pencil you in for tomorrow with Meg."
"Hey, I'm not on your list," Rocco insisted. "I don't know the first thing about running a corporation. Besides, I'll be damned if I strip naked for you and put myself on display."
"What's the matter?" Moira teased. "Afraid I'll make fun of the size of it?"
"I'll bet you wish you could get a glimpse of it," Rocco snorted. "Well, forget it, lady. I don't strip for any woman who's out to measure my pecker with a ruler."
"Oh?" Moira taunted further. "Just how do you like it to be measured?"
"With a mouth!" Rocco savagely spat. "The mouth of the female who'd want to measure it!"
Moira reddened, unable to think of a retort at the moment. The whole problem was that she was feeling aroused. Though watching Meg and Jack had something to do with it, Rocco was having a much stronger effect on her than that which was taking place in the observation room. In fact, Rocco affected her more than any man she had ever known. Under different circumstances, she was certain the two of them might have been friends ... more than friends.
Moira went back to watching Meg and Jack, unaware how affected Rocco was by her nearness. Every passing moment made him ache for her a little more. He was unable to remember when he had ached this much for a woman.
Meg was grinding fiercely into Jack's lap, shuddering and gasping, climaxing repeatedly as the thick staff probed her womanly depths over and over. Then Jack was gasping* "HAANNHH ... OHHH ... YESSS...." It was obvious he was unleashing a torrent of white spume into the narrow funnel between Meg's thighs.
Meg fell back against Jack, out of breath. Then, when his prick shrank, she slid off his lap to the floor.
Jack sat back in the chair unable to move--out of breath.
"Not enough stamina," Moira shrugged. "Cross him off the list."
Rocco remained silent, straining not to touch her. Damn! He loved her!
Moira realized she was purposely incensing Rocco, making him watch the different men Meg handled. However, she had Meg stop after the fourth applicant. None of them had been satisfactory.
Rocco was certain she was rejecting them simply to tease him, though he had no idea why she would do that. Moira, on the other hand, had rejected them because she was mentally comparing them to how she believed Rocco would be.
True, she had never seen him naked, nor had she any visible examples of his prowess. However, she had build a picture of Rocco's abilities in her mind. So far, no man had even come close to that mental picture.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jane Walker was about to enter the Starr building when her husband stepped out of the shadows and said, "Don't go up there, Jane."
"Hughie!" she gasped. "You frightened me. Why shouldn't I go up there?"
"You know how crazy I am about you," Hugh told her. "Well, I fixed it so Moira is going to willingly agree to being fucked. I arranged for the greatest hypnotist in the world to take control of her and fuck her."
"What?" Jane gasped.
"Yes," Hugh nodded. "I contracted with Steve Fellini...."
"The Great Fellini?" Jane asked.
"Yes," Hugh nodded. "I offered him a lot of money to hypnotize Moira and convince her he was her lover so she would offer herself to him. I gave him my special badge which would allow him access to the building and the Tower. He went up more than an hour ago to set up the videotape camera which will record everything. Then I saw Moira go in...."
"That's impossible," Jane insisted. "I saw Moira leave for her mother's home earlier this afternoon, and as you can plainly see, the limousine hasn't returned yet."
"But, who's upstairs with Steve Fellini, then?" Hugh asked.
"Hughie, you're a fool!" Jane snapped. "If they catch that man with your badge, they'll put the blame for everything on me, and we'll lose that million dollar annuity. You jerk!"
* * *
Up in the Starr Tower, Diane, who was waiting for Norris to finish up on the floor below, was about to relax. She was resting on the backless divan in Moira's office. Moira had offered Diane the use of one of the spare bedrooms in her duplex above the office, but Diane had declined, not wanting to interfere in Moira's private life. She had, however, accepted Moira's invitation to use the divan whenever she wished.
Diane had no sooner closed her eyes than the door opened, and she saw a man silhouetted by the light which shone in from the hallway behind him. He was dressed like a clean-up man, and she was able to make out his beard, but nothing more. He walked in, shut the door, and turned on the light, causing Diane to blink in the sudden brightness.
"Sorry, miss," the man said as if surprised to see her. "Didn't realize you were working late. I'll come back later...."
"No, no," Diane protested. "It's alright. Get on with what you have to do."
"Thank you miss," Steve Fellini nodded. But instead of using a vacuum cleaner, he produced what looked like a carpet sweeper.
He began sweeping the carpet in slow, steady, even strokes, and that was when Diane noted the pendant dangling from the handle of the sweeper.
"What an odd thing to have attached to a carpet sweeper," she thought. Her eyes followed it as it swung to and fro, and then she heard his voice, as if from a long way off, saying, "You look tired, miss, very tired. I'd say you want to rest, rest. Your eyelids are heavy, but they can't close. Your mind is slipping away and ... away ... away."
His voice was soft, insistent, and seemed so dominant. Diane was unable to focus on anything other than the pendant, or hear anything other than that which he was saying. Little by little, she slipped into the hypnotic trance, unable to do a thing about it....
"Well," Steve said, straightening up, once he was certain the lovely blonde girl was under his spell, "I guess I didn't need that photo of you after all. Good thing you were working late tonight."
He hastily took the video camera from the cleaning cart he had brought into the office and set it up on its own tripod. Once he had it running, he said, "Do you know who I am?"
"No," Diane answered.
"I am your lover, the man you adore more than any other man in the world. You absolutely love me. Say it! Say you love me!"
"I ... love ... you." Diane murmured.
"You want me."
"I ... want ... you," Diane agreed.
"Now!" Steve insisted.
"Yes, now," Diane agreed again.
"Undress!" Steve ordered.
Without another thought, Diane immediately hastened to obey this "man she loved." Within minutes, she was totally naked, revealing her lush body to the bearded man who had also stripped.
"You're all mine," Steve murmured.
"I'm all yours," Diane agreed, her eyes shining with devotion, for the moment Steve had told her that he was her lover, her mind had envisioned Norris, and Norris was all her brain saw.
"Lie on the divan," Steve instructed her, and Diane did so, her head resting on the bolster at the end.
Steve started the camera, then walked over to where Diane lay. He climbed onto her, straddling her breasts, rubbing his prick between them. Then he pushed his cock higher, saying, "Open your mouth!"
Diane opened her mouth, and Steve kneed his way higher, his long, hard, dark-headed cock slowly pressing between her pink, parted lips. His knees clamped tightly around her head.
"Suck!" he ordered, and Diane immediately pursed her lips firmly around the throbbing phallic probe.
Steve began plunging the cock in and out. He was pleased to see the effort she put forth as her jaws contracted and her cheeks hollowed. He turned his head to look at her lower half and smiled when he saw her thighs twitch and her cunt hump up and down as juices began oozing from between her rich, lovely labia. Hell! Fucking her was going to be easier than he thought. For a virgin, she sure lubricated heavily.
Her hand automatically went down and scratched the matted fur very gently, her swollen clitoris already responding, for Norris' lovemaking had taught her body arousal as she had never known, and now, even though a strange man was using her, her body clamored for satisfaction.
Hunger throbbed through her body, and her mind, accepting this cock in her mouth as Norris' ached for more. The ache in her pussy was greater than the rumbling of an empty belly.
Steve furiously pumped his pulsing poker in and out of her tightly sucking mouth, and though she was fantastic, he knew he had to save his sperm for her vagina. After he came, he had to bring the camera to her pussy and show the semen dripping out.
But for now, he had to show her to be promiscuous as well as a non-virgin. So he continued thrusting his cock in and out of her tight oral orifice and she continued her willing sucking.
Presently, he decided it was time to fuck her. Rolling off the woman, he got to his feet and ordered, "On the floor, belly down. You love it this way."
"I love it this way," Diane repeated.
He had her at such an angle that when she came up on her knees, her vagina was facing the camera. Grabbing the length of his cock, he aimed it at her vagina, and suddenly hesitated. Jesus! This didn't look like a virgin! What the hell! She was the one he had been sent to fuck, and fuck her he would.
God! That cunt-hole of hers was fiery red-the fire of lust. Shit! She was sopping wet, and inside she was a real tinderbox.
He sighted the helmeted tip of his cock, then fired, ramming his probe into the narrowness of her womanly tunnel. He plugged himself in right to the base, but the girl didn't cry out. When he looked down, there was not blood. But he was beyond caring whether he was a virgin or not: The pressure of her vagina around his prick suddenly had him all ablaze. Heat waves licked at the interior of his prick. He moaned with rapturous delight, figuring he would enjoy the rest of this while the camera picked it all up.
Reaching down, he grabbed her thighs, one at a time, lifted them, and wrapped her legs around his waist, wheel-barrow style. Now he had a firm hold on her.
Diane's body trembled with searing lascivity. A cock in her cunt had her aching with desire. Yes, yes, it was good, and she wanted to enjoy it.
Steve pulled back a little, and was delighted when Diane hand-walked backward, her hot pussy following his prick, swallowing up the length of his cock again. When he stepped back again, she moved after him, once more swallowing the cock.
Now it was Diane's turn to move forward, and she did so, and Steve followed her by ramming his prick into the narrow dimple of wetness of her cunt. He began pounding with a certain regular rhythm into the heated slickness of her hot channel, the flexing inner muscles driving him up the wall. Jesus! This was about the best fuck of Steve Fellini's life.
Steve began grinding all the more deeply into Diane. His weighty testicles beating at her inner thighs. Diane responded by stiffening, lifting her cunt up to receive his hammering prong.
"Deeper, Norris, deeper, you can do it!" Diane yelled feverishly, her hypnotized mind mistaking the identity of the grunting man above her.
Steve thrust all the harder into her teeming tunnel, thrilling to the bubble of hot sauce around his cock as he nailed it into her again and again. Her urgently undulant body let him know she was on the verge of satisfaction, and he was damn close to coming himself.
Diane was breathing more and more heavily, the blood racing to her upside-down head and pounding fiercely in her skull. Perspiration dotted her hairline and washed her body, more heavily between her lovely dangling breasts. The flames inside her aching body rose higher.
"YYYAAARRRGGGHHH!" Steve bellowed, and he was firing his sperm into her as her own crushing quim clamped around his organ, signaling the start of her own orgasm.
It was at that moment that Norris All-man, finished with his work for the evening, went to Moira's office where he knew Diane had been resting. It was time for them to go home.
He walked through the outer office, and just before opening the inner door, heard Steve's orgasmic gasp.
What the hell was going on?
Pushing open the inner office door, he saw what Steve was doing to Diane, and was horrified. For a moment it appeared as if Diane was a willing participant to it all. Immediately it came to him that he was, after all, an old man. He had no right to expect such a beautiful woman to be faithful to him.
"Diane!" he exclaimed brokenly, and the sound of his voice snapped her out of the remnant of her light hypnotic trance.
"Norris!" she screamed, as Steve dropped her legs. She whipped around on the floor, stared at Steve, and shouted, "Who ... you're the clean-up man ... how...."
Norris had been ready to turn and stalk out of there, but now he heard the lovely blonde behaving as if she was unaware of what was happening. At first he wouldn't believe it, but perhaps because he wanted to believe her, he waited as Steve hurriedly pulled on the coveralls he had been wearing.
"Hey, nothing personal, Miss Starr," he said. "A job's a job."
"Miss Starr?" Diane asked, confused.
"You think she's Moira Starr?" Norris yelled.
"Knock it off," Steve snapped, edging toward the door. "Who else would be in this office at this time of night?"
"You stupid . fool," Norris yelled.
"That's my woman, Diane. Who the hell do you thing you are to rape her?"
"It wasn't rape," Steve insisted, grabbing the TV camera from the desk.
"You're telling me my Diane willingly let you...."
"Hypnosis," Steve smugly smiled. "She thought it was you. She called me by your name several times."
"You son-of-a-bitch...."
"Watch it, old man," Steve laughed. "You'll get a stroke."
He turned to run toward the elevator, but it suddenly opened, and Rocco Simmons, with Moira holding onto his arm, was stepping out.
"Stop him!" Norris yelled to Rocco, pointing at Steve. "He fucked my Diane, thinking she was Miss Moira."
Steve reached into the pocket of his overalls, and suddenly pulled out a gun, snapping, "Sorry, specs, but I haven't time to chat. I'll have to nail that lady another time."
"How far do you thing you're going to get? Rocco sneered. "Security will be-alerted long before you reach the ground floor, and I don't think you have anything as exotic as a helicopter waiting on the roof."
"I'll take my chances," Steve insisted.
Just then, Norris moved toward Steve, distracting him, and Rocco, in two strides was close enough to kick the gun from his hand. What followed was a fierce battle in which the two men punched, kicked, and violently struggled in the grip of one another. In close contact, Steve had the advantage. He was heavier than Rocco. At one point, he almost squeezed the life out of the thinner man, but Rocco managed to pull away. He immediately started dancing and punching, causing a mouse to build under Steve's right eye, and then blood to pour from the man's nostrils. When a swipe knocked off the security badge he was wearing, the floor detectors suddenly went off, and less than a minute later, four security guards were pulling Rocco and Steve apart, holding Steve. Rocco picked up the fallen security badge.
"It has Hughie Walker's name on it," Rocco said. "So, Hughie hired you, eh."
"I don't know his name," a bloodied Steve shrugged. "Funny-looking man with a mustache. He sent me a lot of money with the promise of more if I got the job done."
"Hughie Walker," Moira nodded.
"Well, if Hughie did this, it must mean Jane is in on it," Rocco surmised. "Might be a good idea if we contact George Hyde and let him know. This way, she'll lose that annuity of hers."
"No," Moira insisted. "She's as rotten as the day is long, and she's tried hard to get at me, but she was treated badly by my father. Let her keep her annuity. She deserves something."
"Still, it isn't right for Hughie to get away with it completely. I mean, I once almost had a crush on the man, and he turned me down. Then to turn around and do something like this to me is cruel. Hughie has to be punished."
"I'll tell Jane she has to divorce him if she wants to keep her annuity," Moira laughed. "Jane won't care, but Hughie's so crazy about his wife, it'll drive him out of his mind. Another thing, if Jane ever has relations with her soon-to-be-ex-husband, she'll forfeit that pension, because I'll tie her into all this."
"You know, as long as you're not married, she'll keep trying," Rocco told her. She's a vindictive one. You haven't any hope of getting away with being a virgin much longer. I think you'll have to marry a lot sooner than even you thought."
"You're right," Moira nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll resume with what we started today. I'll make my selection from the men I see."
Rocco suddenly felt his heart fall to his feet. Damn her! Why did he have to love her? Well, if she picked out a husband the following day and got the three-day period waived, he'd be through with her by nightfall. It was just as well. He didn't think he himself would be able to hang around her much longer if she was to remain a virgin. Some bodyguard he made!
"You'll be with me at the observation room tomorrow?" Moira asked him.
Rocco sullenly agreed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They were in Moira's bedroom, Rocco, George Hyde, Moira and Jane. Moira raised the panel behind the mirror, revealing an empty bedroom.
"I've asked the two of you here," she said to George and Jane, "because I want you to witness my marriage and my defloration."
"Where are the studs?" Rocco snorted.
"Didn't I tell you?" Moira asked, "I made my choice already. I don't need Meg's services, at least not in that respect, any longer."
"Bitch!" Jane snapped savagely. "I don't want to
"You'll watch!" Moira insisted. "You'll watch because I want you to watch. From now on, you'll do anything I say. I have the taped confession of the Great Fellini that he was sent here by your husband to hypnotize and seduce me."
"I'm dumping Hughie," Jane insisted. "What else do you want?"
"I want you to watch the performance of my husband," Moira insisted. "I want you to watch and salivate, because you'll realize that you'll never get to be fucked by this man."
"What do you want from me?" George Hyde requested.
"Well, I'll need two witnesses to my wedding," Moira replied. "I've decided you and Jane are those two witnesses."
"Then why do you need me?" Rocco snorted.
"Well, you do have to stay with me until I'm married," Moira teased.
"Do I have to watch ... after?"
"Only if you want to."
"I don't."
Moira turned to George. "Tell me, Mr. Hyde, does my father's will stipulate I must accept a groom from the men he selected as prospects?"
"No," George Hyde admitted, "but he does stipulate it has to be a permanent union. No separations, no divorce, and the man you select must be willing to help you run Starr Industries."
Moira walked over to the phone on her nightstand, picked it up and said, "Send the judge in, now."
The judge walked in, and Moira said to him, "We're ready."
"Excellent," the judge nodded. "I'll need some signatures, first."
"Hey, where's the groom?" Rocco asked.
"Shut up and sign," Moira told him.
Rocco waited. Jane signed on one line that read "Witness," George signed on the other.
"Now you sign," Moira commanded to Rocco.
"There isn't room for another witness," Rocco pointed out.
"There," Moira instructed, pointing to the line that read "Groom."
"What?" Rocco gasped. "Hey, now wait a minute. Where I come from, the guy asks the girl. The girl doesn't order the guy."
"Rocco," Moira said, looking at him, "I want a one-word answer. Do you love me?"
Rocco stared at her, then at the others in turn, and he felt a trickle of sweat running down his back.
"Yes, damn it!" he yelled.
"Do you want to see me fucked by someone else?"
?I'll kill the man . .
"So then you'll marry me?"
"My God! Oh my God! You're going to rope me into...."
"Rocco!!!"
"Oh, you bitch! You damn well know by now how crazy I am about you. But how did you know? I mean, I never told you or showed you...."
"My God, Rocco," Moira retorted. "I'm so crazy about you I can't see straight, and if I feel this way about you, there has to be a reason. There's no way in the world I'd be able to fall this deeply in love with you if I didn't believe you felt the same way about me."
"You love me?" Rocco asked.
"You're not only a dope, you're a blind dope," she told him. Then to the judge she said, "How about it, your honor?"
"Join hands," the judge insisted.
Five minutes later, Moira was married Mrs. Rocco Simmons.
After the judge had left, Rocco said, "I'll be damned if I have any witnesses to what happens next."
"I have no intentions of letting anyone see us," Moira smiled. "I just wanted to tease my half-sister a little, that's all. Mr. Hyde, take Jane wherever you wish. If it'll make the two of you happy, you can play house together now that Jane had been effectively rendered harmless."
"I'll always hate you!" Jane screamed.
"Not too much," Moira laughed. "Remember, you're keeping that million dollar annuity, thanks to my generosity."
"Get fucked!" Jane yelled.
"Precisely what I intend on doing," Moira laughed, ushering the two of them out and locking the bedroom door.
Now that the wedding was over, Moira was a little frightened. She no longer had the aphrodisiac in her to make her "need" sex. She wanted it, but inexperience made her a bit frightened.
"Go get undressed in the bathroom," Rocco smiled, sensing her uneasiness. Total master of the situation, this was the first time he was feeling good since he had taken on Moira.
He heard the shower start and smiled as he himself undressed to await his nervous virginal bride. She emerged from the bathroom a short while later with*]a towel wrapped around her. He wasted no time whipping it away, looking at the lush expanse of her delectable body. Twin-coned breasts with their brownish nipples pointed upward, a slender waist and full hips greeted his eyes.
Moira reddened, totally embarrassed, and tried hiding her breasts by crossing her arms over them. Rocco pulled them away.
"Don't be shy," he soothed. "I'm hot for you, honey. I've been hot for you for a long time, and I want you-now!"
"That's rather obvious," Moira breathed, looking at his hard-on.
Rocco cupped her full breasts in both hands, gently massaging the firm flesh as he ran his thumbs over the nipples, feeling them swell to his touch. Moira was panting, afraid, yet anxious.
He leaned forward, putting his mouth over one nipple, sucking it gently. Moira shivered with pleasure as she decided she liked what Rocco's mouth was doing to her. She gasped as his fingers moved down over the pliant globes of her asscheeks. His mouth continued wetly exploring her breast as his hands massaged her buttocks, pulling her toward the bed.
Moira was aware of the crevice between her luscious mounds spreading wider. In spite of any embarrassment, her belly began twitching in response to the wonderful sensations, and dampness between her thighs became heavy and oily.
Rocco trailed his hands over her tantalizing buttocks and then her upper thighs, leaving one hand there and deliberately moving his other to her smooth leg. He trickled his fingers into the narrow crevice left by her open stance. Teasing the soft brown curls, he forced her to spread her legs even wider. With his middle finger pointing the way, he cupped her firm, moist labia, his fingers continuing their search for the slit of her clit.
"Huuunnnnhhhh!" Moira moaned as his fingers finally found the tiny electric nerve-ending at the peak of her inner labia.
All the while his mouth sucked and his lips pulled at her breast and nipple, and it made her dizzy. His finger on her clitoris sent a shock through her. Her knees almost buckled as wild sensation danced madly up and down her shuddering spine.
Rocco felt his hard cock become stiffer than granite. If he didn't bury it in this woman, it would explode. Moving quickly, he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the bed, laying her down on the clean sheets.
Standing straight, he stared at the fantastically lovely body of his new wife as she smiled weakly at him in the hope of appearing relaxed. The sight of Rocco's erection, longer and thicker than any she had seen sported by the men who had serviced Meg, both fascinated and frightened her as she realized that shortly, she would have its full length buried in her body.
Her eyes open wide as she stared at the purplish, blood-filled tip. The opening was dilated a little, and a drop of moisture was emerging. Light-blue veins wound their way through the shaft, and the column seemed to throb as if excited at staring at her through its sightless eye.
Rocco knelt between her thighs and hoisted her legs over his shoulders. He pushed on the backs of her thighs, bending her legs all the way back, and Moira reddened, embarrassed even more to have him staring into the center of her womanhood. She jerked crazily as he leaned forward and dipped a tongue-tip into her navel.
Rocco inhaled the rich, womanly essence of her. She was more fascinating and beautiful down there than he had initially imagined. He had to taste and see if her flavor matched her delicate aroma.
His working tongue moved lower and sliced through the fuzzy hairs on her pelvis, and Moira jerked even more rapidly.
She realized what her was about to do. She had seen Jack Acre to it with Meg. At the time it had aroused her just watching, and now it was going to happen to her, with the man she loved.
She lay perfectly still, anticipating, inwardly thrilling as jolts of lightning-like pleasure charged madly through her. She started violently when the contact actually came. When his tongue touched her clitoris.
Leaning on his elbows, he shoveled his hands under her buttocks to lift Moira's loins closer to his anxious face. His tongue smeared itself straight up and down the indentation of her vagina, the flat of it washing back and forth across her clitoris. He paused to suck at it and pull the little nerve-bud between his lips.
"Ghhhuuunnnggghhh!" Moira gasped as wonderful sensations blasted through her quaking body, sensations unlike any she had ever known.
Hot fluid poured from her vagina and splashed in Rocco's face, making him aware of her first mini-orgasm.
Rocco became aware of the pressure building higher in his own loins, and knew the time had come to fuck his new wife. Fuck her, he would. Hard, fast and deep! Hell! He'd show her what it meant to take it for granted that he loved her--even if he did. Shit! If he didn't bury his cock in her teeming pussy soon, he'd be pouring his load out all over the bed.
Moira's head lolled from side to side as the wet tongue furiously licked into the depth of her cunt. She had given up trying to think about the possible paid that would follow. All that mattered was the wonder she was presently feeling. She was caught up in a rapture she had never believed possible.
Rocco lifted himself up to stare into the rich pink filament that was her vagina. He hauled himself forward, staring down, watching as the tip of his throbbing cock was now mere inches from the sheath in which it would sink itself.
Lifting his eyes, he looked at Moira, and saw was still a bit frightened.
"It can't hurt you," he soothed patiently, a teacher with a student. "It can't do anything you don't want it to do. It's part of me, and I love you. Do you think any part of me would harm you?"
"N-no," Moira agreed.
"Then prove it to yourself and to me.
You put it in."
Slowly, very slowly, her hand reached down and caressed the throbbing length of the massive shaft. As her fingers curled around it, she felt hot blood pumping through it, the entire shaft seeming to pulsate with a distinctive rhythm.
"Just guide it,' he said reassuringly, leaning forward until the purple-topped instrument came into contact with her vagina.
Moira felt as if she were in the observation room, while yet another part of her was looking on. the hungry burning in her pussy seemed so strange. There was definitely the desire to fill it with the hard fleshiness of the cock she was holding. The fire within her would be put out by this fire-hose.
Her hand began moving along the length of it, leading the blood-swollen tip up and down the furred slash between her legs. Slowly, the hair-lined lips parted all the more widely, and then it touched the very entrance of her womanhood.
Unable to keep out of her any longer, Rocco pressed forward with his hips, widening her tightness until the vulva surrounded the head of his cock. Like an elastic mouth, the entrance to her cunt swallowed him up. The entire helmeted head disappeared inside.
Pressing firmly on the mattress, his hands beneath her armpits, he eased his cock in two more inches.
"Hhaauunngghh!" Moira cried out, feeling her inner self widen. Excitement took total control of her. She was afraid of pain, but even more afraid for this not to continue. She was discovering the glory of being fucked.
Rocco had strained to keep himself in cheek, even in the tight oven of her cunt. Now, he lost all control. He rammed forward with all his strength, his thick phallus mercilessly stretching her virgin walls, charging through her maidenhead, snapping it like tissue paper. The long, hard cock kept going like an express train, and soon the entire length of it was buried to the root in her tight depths.
"Myyyy G-o-o-o-oddddd!" the helpless woman gasped, aware of some initial pain, yet also aware it was not nearly as strong as she had feared it might be.
The giant log was moving within her, rubbing her inner membranes back and forth as it fucked her. Yes, it was fucking her! She was being fucked!
She writhed a little under Rocco's weight, but realized it would have been futile had she wanted to get away. But she didn't want to get away. There was that littlest tingle beyond the initial pain, and it told her there was so much more rapture waiting if only she had the courage to hold out.
Rocco forced his body firmly against that of his new wife as he stared down at their tangle of pubic hair where they were delectably fused together. He waited an interminable length of time to give Moira's interior time to adjust to his thickness. Then, he flexed the pulsing rod, making it expand inside her, and she gasped, quivering a little.
"Huuunnhh!" she panted, but her moan was subdued, not nearly as anguished as when he had crammed himself into her.
Watching her lovely face for reactions, he slowly withdrew his fleshy pylon from her hot cunt until only the rubbery head Still remained within. Then he smoothly pushed forward again, driving it in, feeling the wet, warm walls once more wrap themselves around his organ. When he pulled back the next time, he was the pink stain-the evidence of her virginity-covering his cock. Then he slammed forward again, and his balls met the upturned cheeks of her lovely ass.
Feeling warm flesh tickle her rectum, her cunt totally filled, Moira sensed the complete openness of her position. She was literally bent to the will of the penis thrust inside her. Yet she no longer felt embarrassment of any kind. Her husband was fucking her, and she had to admit, beyond the initial pain and discomfort of being stretched, it was a good feeling. Her body was inwardly craving this, needing this. She spread her thighs wider apart as she arched her delectable hips to keep pace with the movement of his cock.
The pressure in Rocco's semen-filled prostate was getting out of control, now. The man began rapidly sawing his organ in and out, in and out, feeling her. inner self respond with pressure. He was balanced so that he was able to see everything happening. What thrilled him most was the sight of Moira arching her lovely body as he drove repeatedly into her again and again. Her head was rolling from side to side, her tongue licking parched lips, perspiration making her face wet. Her firm breasts bounced and bobbled with every thrust of his cock, and her white, smooth belly sucked in each time he probed into her.
Moira had given herself over totally and completely to the sensations streaming through her churning body. She ground her hips up and down, moving along the length of his fleshy column.
Her mind had gone blank for the moment as she surrendered herself solely to the feelings she was enjoying.
A picture began filling Moira's mind. It was the picture of herself as she was being fucked by her husband. She became even more excited because she felt she looked so much more arousing in this state than her mother had looked when she had seen George Hyde fucking her. Her lush writhing body thrilled to being beneath that of Rocco. God! So this was fucking! It was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her.
"Fuck me, Rocco!" she gasped. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! I love you! I swear to' God I love you!" she chanted, as the fire in the depths of her belly went totally out of control. Her body heaved and rippled and quaked as she slowly began sitting up.
Rocco wasn't aware of what she was trying to do, but went along with it. He allowed her to sit up, but to do so, he had to bring his own legs straight forward so they stuck out behind her. They sat, now, facing each other, he still locked inside her, his own ass feeling the wetness of the sheet under him.
They see-sawed back and forth this way, rocking left and right as greater and greater swells filled both of them. Rocco was on the verge, and nothing was going to stop him from spewing sperm into her.
Moira felt her entire body engulfed with a tidal wave of delectable feelings. She clamped herself to him, grinding her fulcrum circularly around his pulsing organ. The hot prick was buried to the depths within her, and her thighs clamped around his body.
"HHH A A A A Y Y Y A A AIIIIGGGHHHH!" Moira screamed, as total orgasm took control of her shaking body, her hot cunt jerking forward to suck on the full length of Rocco's thrusting cock.
Spasm after spasm rippled through her quaking belly as on climax after another tore through her, making her aware of how sensual she really was.
Rocco was pleased to see her coming. Before, he had always been able to hold his sperm back until the woman came first, but this was one time when he had been uncertain. Jesus! Moira was some kind of woman. He thrilled to the heat of her internal juices pouring out all over his cock.
She yelled again-another climax-as his swollen dork drummed wildly in the depths of her tummy. Then Rocco was unleashing his own fluid. Her belly was being jabbed, or so it seemed to Moira, as the hot spike inside her spurted one splash after another. Great gouts of fluid washed the walls of her pussy, then came oozing out.
Rocco was unable to believe what a fantastic female this one was. Her reactions matched his own. He screwed his spitting cock ever deeper into the narrow closure of her draining pussy. Hot semen came out of her and washed all over his testicles. The two of them held onto each other in the sitting position as they bounced madly all over the bed.
They slowly came to a halt, not because they wanted to, but because Rocco slowly shrank inside Moira. The woman had drained him as no other female had ever done.
Very slowly, they pulled apart, a loud sucking noise accompanying the removal of his penis from the cup of her interior.
"My God!" Moira gasped. "So that's what it's like."
"Lover, it's only the beginning," Rocco assured her. "There's so much more, and I intend teaching you all of it."
"I want to learn it all," Moira signed, sliding off the bed, heading for the bathroom, where she wetted a cloth. After cleaning herself, she came back and washed Rocco down.
"Wife, you're one fantastic lady," Rocco complemented her.
"Wait until the thrill wears off," she chided. "Then tell it to me."
"With a woman like you, the thrill will never wear off," Rocco assured her. "I just wonder, with all the business you have to watch, will you have enough time for things like this in the future?"
"We'll make time," Moira assured him. "But tell me something."
"Sure," he nodded.
"Well ... she began timidly, "hell, my father's will calls for fidelity on my part," Moira fretted. "I mean, now that I'm married, you're the only one I can allow into me. But there are no restrictions on you. What's to keep you faithful to me." she worried.
Rocco laughed and kissed her on the forehead. He walked over to the window and looked down into the street for a moment, then turned, looked at her and said, "I don't cheat, honey. Between you and me, there has to be total trust. I fell in love with you, something I never did with any other woman. I mean, it hit me, just like that," he demonstrated, snapping his fingers. I never expected it to happen.
Shit! I'm not going to fall out of love, Moira. You're special to me, really special. I love you too much to risk losing what's between us."
"But Rocco, I'm new at love, new at sex, new at everything like this."
"We both have things to learn," Rocco assured her, returning to where she lay on the bed. And we'll help each other learn together. If I can accept the fact that you're going to be running the world's largest financial empire, then you have to accept that I'm a private eye, always will be, and very happy at it. I'll temper my cases so I don't get involved with any other chicks. In fact, except for you, I never have gotten involved with any female clients."
"I think that's a very good rule to follow," Moira nodded.
"Speaking of clients," he reminded her. "You do owe me money. I've done my job, and the private detective in me wants to get paid."
"Oh?" Moira laughed. "Just when do you want me to pay you?"
"How about as soon as possible," Rocco said.
"Really?" Moira laughed. "And how much do I owe you?"
"About ten grand for Queen Bee and her bunch."
"I'll make out a check to her right away," Moira nodded.
"And more that twenty-five G's for me." Rocco added.
"Suppose I renege?"
"Oh, lady, if you do that, then the husband in me will just have to take it out on your body," he threatened, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he grabbed for her. "Considering you're so new at the fucking game, you're worth about a buck a hump."
"Well, that means all I owe you is twenty-four thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars," Moira calculated.
"Ninety-eight," Rocco told her, kissing her soundly as he feverishly lowered her onto the bed.
