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Subject: {ASSM} Story:  LCS60002 Hot Lips by David Crane courtesy of AdultBookCovers.net 74935413
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LCS60002 Hot Lips by David Crane

FOREWORD

How far will some people go to achieve those things that are
important to them? A question as old as man. And as long as
people have goals they feel are important, other people will feel
as if they have been exploited for the sake of an individual's
goals.

Examples can be found everywhere that the end justifies the means
for people whose personal achievement, or success, or personal
desires, is the only thing that really matters.

HOT LIPS is a story about a young woman who will do anything to
attain the goals she has set for herself. She will even resort to
what some would call perverted acts in order to get what she
wants. But the fact remains that despite the means she uses to
reach her goal, she does find happiness, and no one is harmed.

A startling story that provides insight into the happiness that
can be attained by some from actions that much of our society
considers perverted.

-The Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

Jack Bramley had a big prick.

It was even bigger than usual this morning, because Jack had been
thinking about women and about what he would like to be doing to
a woman. His cock was standing rampant, hard as iron and hot as a
heated crowbar.

He was stretched out naked on the bed in his one-room apartment,
on his back, with his long, fat dong sticking up like a
lighthouse from his loins, the knob glowing like a beacon atop
the pillar, his balls bloated and filled with cum like the rocky
shoals below.

It was Sunday morning.

Jack usually managed to pick up a broad on Saturday night and
thereby enjoyed some Sunday morning fucking and sucking, more
leisurely than the frantic screwing of the evening. He was a
good-looking fellow, tall and lean and athletic, and those
attributes, combined with the size of Bis pecker, made it
relatively simple for him to get laid.

But the night before he had been indecisive.

In the bar down the street he had vacillated, unable to decide
which of the three available girls he would pick up-a redhead
with huge knockers, a brunette with heavy lips that just cried
out for a mouthful of cock, or a bleached blonde who, although
not as pretty as the other two, was well known for her ability to
milk a prick-bone dry in manifold ways.

Jack had shifted back and forth between them, buying them drinks
in turn and making suggestive comments. Each time he bought a
drink for one of the girls, he had one himself, of course, to be
sociable.

He had gotten very drunk.

At closing time, groggy and stumbling, he realized that all three
of the girls had left with other men.

He was too drunk to really care very much, so he staggered on
home alone.

He fell asleep instantly. His last waking thought was that it was
just as well he had not brought a woman to his bed, because he
would have failed miserably as a lover and done untold damage to
his reputation.

But when he awoke in the morning, hung over and sporting a
gigantic hard-on, he regretted his mistake very much. When he had
a hangover he was always horny as hell. And he was also able to
perform for a long time before he shot his wad-perhaps because
his prick was numbed by alcohol-and he could enjoy a lingering
fuck that delighted him and usually drove his partner to a state
of ecstasy and multiple orgasms.

Now, alone on the bed, he gazed ruefully down at his huge cock
and wished that he had somewhere to stick it. It was really
massive this morning, as big and hard and hot as he had ever
known it, with his spunk stored up instead of having been emptied
the night before.

The head was glowing, shining with lust. It throbbed and pulsed
as if it were longing for a hot, wet pussy around it.

The stalk was thick and seamed with a dark ventral vein running
from his bloated balls to the bi-valved knob, rushing with
excited blood.

His balls were like over-inflated balloons, hard as rocks, filled
with jism. Damn, he muttered.

It was a terrible shame to waste such a magnificent hard-on, both
for his own sake and for the sake of any of numerous women of
dubious morality who would have jumped at a chance to fill their
cunts with his meat rack.

Jack figured he had two options.

He could grit his teeth, bear the burden of his erection, and go
out looking for a girl to fuck.

Or he could jerk off.

He considered the two possible courses of action, gazing at his
cock as he did so, as if he might find the solution reflected in
the gleaming purple knob like a witch doctor reading the future
in the entrails of a goat.

His prick pulsed, flashing like a heliograph, but he couldn't
manage to interpret the message-did his cock want the instant
relief of his hand, or was it telling him to bide his time until
he could find a steaming pussy in which to sheath it?

There were problems inherent in either course of action, he knew.
Since it was Sunday, the bars and lounges would not be open until
noon. Therefore, his hunting grounds would be limited to coffee
shops and the park. It was always harder to pick up a fuckable
girl when he could not ply her with a few drinks first.

There was also the problem of his hard-on, a factor in itself,
for he knew that it would stick out in relief in his pants and,
possibly, cause him some embarrassment if he took it out for a
walk.

The problem with jacking off was more direct-he didn't like to
jerk off. It felt good when he came, but he always got bored
during the pumping, especially when, with a hangover, it took him
ages to shoot.

If he had a telephone, he would have called some woman, but his
phone was disconnected.

He had had a girl living with him up until a month before, a very
sexy girl named Jessica, who had kept him very satisfied. But
along with her talents in bed, Jessica also had a talent for
making long distance phone calls. When he had received a
telephone bill for six hundred dollars, Jack had decided that he
didn't really want a telephone cluttering up his tiny apartment,
anyhow. He had left the bill unpaid and Ma Bell had responded by
leaving him unphoned.

Thinking about Jessica, he got even more horny, for she had
really been a spectacular piece of ass.

He did not even resent what she'd done to his communication
system, because when she left, not having the money to pay the
bill, she had given him her used car, which he had sold for eight
hundred dollars, showing a profit. But by then the phone had been
disconnected and he'd not gotten around to having it hooked up
again.

This was the first time he regretted not having a telphone. Along
with that, he regretted the fact that Jessica had left. They had
parted friends. Jessica was a singer-not too good, but so sexy on
the stage that she had no trouble getting work-and had gone off
to work in a nightclub in Buffalo . . .  to which city Jack would
not go, even for the favors of Jessica's steaming cunt.

Now he thought about her and his prick thundered violently. So
much blood rushed into his big stalk that Jack began to get
lightheaded.

He sighed sadly.

There was nothing for it but to beat his meat, he decided,
wasteful as it was.

He reached for his dick with a trembling hand.

And the doorbell rang.

"Who in hell is it?" he called.

He didn't want to get up and go to the door because if it was a
man, or his landlady, his hard-on would be an embarrassment, far
too big to be secreted in his dressing gown. If it was a
girlfriend come to call, he figured that he might as well stay
right where he was, since that was where she was liable to want
him to be, and where they would wind up with very little delay in
any case. "Jack?"

It was a girl's voice. It sounded familiar, but distorted through
the door. "Yeah!"

"It's Jessica," she called.

Jack's eyes lighted up and his prick thumped mightily in
expectation.

"The door's open!" he called, the excitement he felt evident in
his voice.

Jessica opened the door and stepped in.

"I'm so glad you're still here," she said. "I tried to call you,
and when I found that the phone was disconnected I thought maybe
you'd moved . . . "

Jack was not moving at all-except for his prick, which was
writhing and banging away like a jackhammer.

Jessica had turned to close the door.

Turning back, he started to say something further and then paused
when she saw that Jack was on the bed, naked and erect.

"Oh!" she gasped.

Jack grinned.

"I was just thinking about you," he said. "You were obviously
thinking about something . . . "

She smiled, standing just inside the door. Looking at her, Jack
found himself lusting for the girl even more than he had when he
remembered her. She was every bit as desirable as his memory had
told him.

She was tall, her legs long, her body supple.

She wore a black leather skirt and a white blouse. The hem of the
skirt left plenty of shapely thigh on display and the blouse was
unbuttoned at the neck so that her deep, ivory cleavage could be
viewed.

She had long blonde hair, streaked by the sun so that it flowed
in hues of gold and amber as it cascaded to her shoulders. Her
face was oval, with high cheekbones, her eyes green, her mouth
sensual. That mouth was turned up in a smile at the moment, a
smile that showed both interest and amusement-and those green
eyes studied Jack's big, hard prick with open speculation,
glinting like moist emeralds.

She ran one hand up her flank in self-caress.

Her tongue slipped across her lower lip.

Jack said, "I thought you were in Buffalo?"

He was not at all embarrassed at being found with a hard-on, for
he was self confident and proud of his prick. Anyhow, Jessica had
seen it plenty of times in the past.

"I came back," she said.

"And a timely visit it was."

"So it would appear."

"Five minutes later and it would have been too late," he told
her.

"Oh? Were you going out?"

"No, I was just about to jerk off.".

That idea obviously fascinated the sexy girl.

"What a shame if you had," she said.

She moved closer to the bed.

"Shall I join you?" she asked.

Her fingers were toying with the buttons of her blouse. She stood
with her legs parted.

"What a good idea," said Jack.

Then, grinning wickedly, he added, "Forgive me for not standing
up.. .but I'm afraid that my cock is too heavy to lift, at the
moment."

She laughed at that conceit-but her laughter was tinged with
other feelings than amusement.

She said, "If it's too heavy to lift, maybe I should sit on it."

Jack nodded; his dick throbbed.

Jessica began to unbutton her blouse.

As she removed her clothing, she spoke to him, knowing full well
that words could be every bit as erotic as vision and physical
contact.

"I came on the bus," she said. "I hoped you'd be home.. .alone.
I've been thinking about you all the way here, and my pussy got
so hot and creamy that I couldn't stand it. I was squirming on
the seat and my cunt was making moist, squishing noises . . . 
I'm sure every one on the bus knew that I was creaming my pussy.
I even started to pant."

She shrugged her blouse from her shoulders.

She wore no brassiere. Jack had never known her to wear a bra,
and doubted that she even owned one. Nor did she need one. Her
tits stood out, firm and round, needing no support. The globes
rolled together to form a deep cleavage as they thrust out from
her slender torso. Her nipples were so big and stiff that they
looked like little rocket ships about to blast off from her
areola launching pads.

"There was a young man sitting in the seat across the aisle from
me," she was saying. "When he saw how I was squirming and
panting, the front of his trousers rose up just like a tent
around a pole. He must have had a cock almost as big as yours,
Jack. Not quite. And that made me hornier than ever, knowing how
hot I was making him. Vanity, narcissism, whatever . . .  I
always feel sexy when I know a man is lusting for me. If.. . . "
she paused, with a demure smile and a naughty gleam in her eyes.
"If there hadn't been lots of other people on the bus, I would
have gone over and sat beside him," she said.

Jack groaned.

"I would have put my hand on his cock," she said.

She was fingering the zipper at the side of her black leather
skirt, pulling it down a few inches, then drawing it back up,
taking her time and tantalizing Jack as she prolonged her
disrobing.

"I might have given him a hand-job right there on the bus," she
said, her voice husky. "Or . . .  I was so hot . . .  I might
have gone down on him. I might have sucked him off and drank his
cum right on the Greyhound bus.. . . "

Jack moaned, almost a whimper.

He knew that she was saying those naughty things to excite and
arouse him-but he also knew, knowing her, that such a thing was
quite possible. Even when she'd lived with him and he had been
giving her plenty of prick, she had still managed to cheat on him
a few times-that he knew about.

He also figured that maybe she had really done it.

But he didn't give a damn what she had done on the fucking bus,
as long as there was some left for him.

She said, "But I'm glad that I didn't.. .now that I've found
you.. .like this . . . "

She dropped her skirt.

She wore black bikini panties, very brief, so that a few wisps of
golden pubic hair curled out from the crotch band-and that
crotch-band was plastered to her crotch by cunt-juice, damp as a
dishrag and glued to her cunt by lust.

She hooked her fingers under the elastic waistband. She snapped
it, delaying again.

She said, "I had to take the bus, Jack. That old car I left with
you . . . "

Jack was in no condition to discuss cars.

"Later, baby," he croaked.

"Ummm," she said.

She pushed her panties down, her sleek ass and supple hips
squirming out of them.

Naked, she moved up to the bed.

She stared down at his towering prick.

"Oh, that looks so good," she sighed.

Her thighs were parted. Gazing up from the bed, Jack could see
her cunt. She pushed her pelvis slightly out, giving him a better
view. Her cunt-lips were unfurled like the petals of a fleshy,
pink flower and her open slot was flooded with creamy cunt-juice.
Her clit was erect and tingling, thrusting out from the thick
juice that filled her hole.

"I can't decide whether I want to sit on it or take it in my
mouth," she whispered.

She fitted her movements to her words, pushing her hips out when
she spoke of sitting on it and sliding her pink tongue across her
parted lips as she speculated on the sucking of his massive
prick.

"We have all day.. .don't we?"

A look of hesitation passed over her countenance for a brief,
fleeting moment. Jack realized that she had something on her
mind.. .that she had not taken the bus all the way from Buffalo
just to fuck him. But he figured there would be time to find out
what she was after, later . . .  at the moment he could
concentrate only on her lush body.

"Yes.. . . " she said, softly.

Standing beside the bed, her legs spread, she bent over from the
waist, as if she were going to touch her toes. Her head came
down. Her golden hair brushed over his lean belly and the tresses
swept across his swollen balls. Her face came down. Her tongue
came out.

She licked the fiery head of his prick.

Leaning over more, she took it into her mouth and sucked on the
meaty slab, her cheeks hollowing in as her lips pulled on his
tasty cock-head.

She sucked for a moment, then pulled away, her mouth making a
slurping noise as it dragged off his prick-tip.

"Ahhh . . .  do it . . . " he rasped.

"Later, honey," she whispered. "I want to . . .  it tastes so
good . . .  I want to suck your delicious meat and swallow your
thick, hot cum.. .but first I want to fuck . . . "

Jack could not argue with that priority.

Jessica knelt beside him.

Her plump tits swayed; he could see a ribbon of cunt-juice
trickle down the inside of her thigh.

She moved her leg across, straddling his thighs.

Her face had become a mask of lust now, eyes narrowed, lips
parted, nimble tongue flicking back and forth. Her tits heaved
with her labored breathing.

She sat back on her heels, astride his thighs, so that his
towering cock rose up in front of her belly. She squirmed a bit
closer. His bloated balls jammed against her cunt-mound so that
it looked as if his cock were part of her body, as if she were
androgynous, possessed of both a cock and a cunt, balls and
breasts together.

She began to move her hips from side to side, working her
pussy-mound against his cock and balls. Taking his shaft in her
hand, she pushed it against her smooth belly and writhed against
it. His prick was so hot it felt like a branding iron, searing
her flesh, while her pussy steamed against his thighs, soaking
them with cunt-sauce.

Jack whimpered, almost in torment-enjoying this preliminary
contact but eager to get on with it, to have his cock buried up
her hot snatch.

Holding his cock against her belly, she thumbed the knob and
rubbed the sensitized delta where his thick, veined stalk merged
into his flaring prick-tip.

His cleft parted.

A trickle of pre-cum oozed out and ran sluggishly down the knob
and onto her belly.

"Ooooh . .  she purred.

She licked her lips as she gazed down at that thick flow of
savory jism.

Her mouth was watering for his cock and her taste buds were
tingling for his cum.

But her pussy was even more demanding.

Jack reached up and cupped her firm tits in his hands, kneading
and massaging the globes and working his thumbs back and forth
across the stiff tips.

He began to hump up from the mattress, ramming his spike up and
down across her groin, bouncing her slender weight up as he
thrust.

Jessica moved higher up his prostrate body.

Her thighs tightened and she raised her crotch up, settling over
his prick. She folded her fist around the root and began to stir
his cockhead around in her open cunt, using it like a spoon to
caress the bowl of her desire, a ladel to churn her cunt-juice to
heavy cream.

She cupped his balls in her other hand.

Jack stopped humping and held his body arched and rigid, his ass
lifted from the bed, waiting for Jessica to initiate the act.

Her cunt was flooding; cunt-juice ran down his shaft and onto his
belly and balls.

She braced herself as he whimpered wordlessly and urged her to
descend onto his cock.

She was savoring the last moments before they coupled. Then she
began to fuck him . . .

CHAPTER TWO

Jessica lowered her crotch onto his towering cock, going down
slowly, taking him into her cunt inch by inch until she had
buried his whole massive prick up her hole. Her cunt was stuffed
full of cock-meat and the lips sucked on his belly and balls,
stuck to him hard and fast.

She held that full, deep penetration for a long moment, thrilling
to the wondrous feeling of being full of seething prick and
letting him savor the joy of having every inch of his vibrant
cock buried in hot pussy.

Then she began to ride him.

Her thighs tensed, lifting her cunt up his shaft until only the
head remained stuck up her hole. Her cunt-lips sucked on that
swollen slab of cock.

Then she went down again, all the way, feeding his cock to her
cunt to the very root.

Jack fell into the rhythm.

He humped up from the bed as she came down, then drew his loins
back as she rose up so that they were gliding together in a
lustful tempo. Her cunt was well-oiled by her juices; they slid
together fluidly. But then she began to work her cunt-muscles.
Her pussy clung to him, clutching, the concentric rings
tightening in sequence up his stalk so that it felt as if she had
a hand inside her cunt, masturbating him inside her belly.

His cock was so hot that it hissed as it ran up her wet hole,
like a red-hot iron dipped into a tub.

She shifted slightly, positioning herself so that the full length
of his cock ran over her fiery clit as it plowed up her hole.

Her head switched from side to side, her golden hair cascading
around her face; she bit her lower lip; her eyes closed,
fluttered open, closed again as she was swept along on a tide of
passion.

Jack plowed up with vigor, banging his cock into her, his balls
jamming against her crotch and ass, his belly slapping against
her cunt-mound. His great cock filled her full, so that it acted
like a pump, pumping the cunt-juice out of her and soaking his
belly and thighs and balls with the overflowing cream.

Jessica began to moan and whimper.

Whatever the reason for this visit, she had not deceived him when
she told him she had been horny, that was evident. Her pussy was
melting around his cock like a wax candle around a burning wick.

"I'm coming . .  she gasped.

He felt her pussy cream.

The flow washed over his balls and seeped down between his legs
in a sticky pool.

She gasped and faltered; her movements became erratic for a
moment and a contented smile spread across her lips. Then,
without pausing or disengaging for a moment, she began to ride
his prick with renewed vigor.

One orgasm had only whetted her appetite.

Jack was glad that he had a hangover which would prolong his own
climax.

His hands slid down from her tits and clamped over her hips,
holding them as if they were the handles of her pelvis, moving
her from side to side so that they were corkscrewing together and
her hole was twisting around his stalk like a soft, velvet
wringer.

She leaned forward and her face came to his; they kissed, lips
brushing together, then parting as she stabbed her hot tongue
into his mouth.

He sucked on it lovingly.

When her tongue withdrew, his tongue followed, slipping into her
mouth and entwining with hers like two serpents mating in a moist
cavern.

She came again, panting right into his mouths

Then she rose up again, arching her back and thrusting her belly
and tits out and continued to ride his prick, her ardor not at
all diminished by her climax.

Jack began to gasp as his own orgasm built towards the heights.
His balls were threatening to explode and his cock had swelled up
so much that it seemed as if he might push her hip bones out of
joint . . .  it was driving so far up her cunt that he wouldn't
have been surprised to see the purple head come out of her mouth.

Sensing that his climax was fast approaching, the oversexed
blonde began to corkscrew down on his dong with renewed effort,
humping faster and faster, her juicy ass fairly flying up and
down as she fed his prick to her pussy.

"Come!" she wailed.

Her cunt drove down, clutching and sucking on his joint, wringing
and pulling and dragging along every inch of his smoking cock as
she sought to bring him off.

"Come.. .come in me . . .  I want to feel your hot jism spurt
into my womb . . . "

Jack grated his teeth. His eyes rolled wildly from side to side
and his chest heaved up and down in tempo with his humping
haunches.

Cupping his swollen balls, Jessica squeezed as if she wanted to
force his cum out by the pressure.

Jack howled like a beast in torment.

He drove up frantically, slamming his cock into her cunt as his
balls erupted. The thick sap rushed up his stalk and burst
volcanically from his cock-head.

"Ohhh!" she wailed as she felt that thick geyser fill her pussy.

She started to come again, her cunt-juice gushing out to mingle
with his spunk.

Long waves of lust passed across her belly and rushed up her
trembling thighs, crashing together in the depths of her steaming
twat.

She was going off like a machine gun, each electric thrill
followed by another, each wave rippling upon the one before with
such immediacy that they blended into one prolonged, sustained
sensation of ecstasy.

Jack blew a second spurt of spunk up her hole, drew back, banged
in, and poured yet a third mighty geyser into her creaming cunt,
coming with such dynamic force that his ass was jammed back into
the soft mattress on the recoil.

His fourth spurt was weaker, his fifth a mere trickle. His
movements slowed, then stopped.

Jessica continued to writhe and squirm on his prick as she worked
off the final spasms of her coming.

At long last, she was finished.

She looked down with a contented smile.

"Oh, I've missed your cock," she told him.

She gave a tentative thrust of her hips.

Despite his mighty climax, his cock was still standing in a firm
tower up her hole.

That delighted the wanton woman.

She slid gently up and down on his dong, turning her hips so that
her cunt slid around it. Then she lifted up, raising her pussy
off him. His cock popped out and stood to attention.

Her cunt, vacated, overflowed. Cunt-juice and jism poured down
her thighs.

She stretched out beside him, lower down, so that her face was
opposite his hip. Folding her hand around his cock, she began to
frig him up and down.

"Ummm," she sighed. "My cunt is satisfied.. .but my mouth is
watering . . . "

"Yeah! Suck it, baby.. .suck me off now.. . . "

"Oh, I will . . .  I want to milk your sweet prick, Jack. I'm
drooling for your jism.. . . "

But despite that avowal, she did not begin to use her mouth on
him yet.

Frigging his cock gently, her yearning eyes fixed upon that big
handful, she said, "There's something I want to ask you, Jack . .
. "

"Ummm?"

"That car I gave you.. . . "

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have it?"

"Naw . . .  I sold it, honey. I got no use for a car living here
in the city . . .  too much trouble finding a parking space . . .
 I didn't think you wanted it back . . . "

She looked up at him.

She looked distraught.

"Sold it? To whom?"

"Well, a used car dealer.. .but why . . , ? "

"Oh, damn!"

"What is it, Jessica? You never said.. . . "

"I didn't know. Oh, dear.. . . " she wailed. "Do you think he
still has it? The dealer."

"Hell, I don't know."

"Could we go there and see?"

"Well, sure. Later.. .but first.. . . "

"But first I'm going to give you a lovely blow-job," she said,
smiling again.

Jack was glad that she had things in the proper sequence. He had
no idea why she was worried about the car, but she would no doubt
explain that td him in due course. It could wait. He was ready
for some gorgeous blonde head.

Reaching down, he stroked her cheek. His hand moved behind her
head and pulled her face toward his cock.

Smiling, she let him draw her towards him.

"Promise we can look for the car after?" she said.

Jack, at that moment, would have promised that they could look
for wild Indians. He nodded. Jessica smiled happily and turned
her face towards his prick.

She did have another reason for visiting Jack.

But Jessica was not about to pass up a mouthful of hot cock, no
matter how urgent her reasons . . .

CHAPTER THREE

In fact, it had been Jessica's propensity for sucking on pricks
that was indirectly responsible for her visit and her concern
about her old car. It dated back some two months, to the time
when she was still living with him, and it was a matter of such
import that if she had told Jack the whole story, horny as he
was, he would have forgotten all about the blow-job she'd
promised in his haste to rush down to the used car dealer and try
to retrieve the car.

In a pinch, she thought, she would explain it to him truthfully..
.but if she could keep it secret, it might well be better. She
wasn't sure how greedy Jack might turn out to be if he discovered
the facts. If he would be content to help her with no questions
asked, in return for the fuck already rendered and the blow-job
about to be delivered, it would be all for the better..

This is what had happened:

Jessica had been booked for a weekend stand at a hotel nightclub
in Toronto two months before-one month before she got the
semi-permanent gig in Buffalo. She had driven up to Canada,
promising Jack to be faithful to him for the two nights that she
would be away. Perhaps she had really intended to be chaste, as
well. Who can say? But on her first night, she met a handsome
Canadian gentleman while having a drink between sets. He sent
flowers to her dressing room and one thing led to another. She
had gone up to his room with him.

They necked and petted for awhile, drinking champagne between
gropes. Slightly tipsy and very randy, Jessica had forgotten her
promise of fidelity.

The gentleman ate her out, his long-haired Canadian head bobbing
merrily up and down between her slick thighs. Then he fucked her
with vigor and relish. She stayed the night. In the morning, she
awoke to find him with a hard-on, still asleep. Having a taste
for cock, she proceeded to suck him off as he slumbered-and had a
very wet dream.

The fellow had been so grateful to her for performing that oral
act that instead of terminating the affair as a one-night-stand,
he offered to buy her lunch. Already having a bellyful of his
delicious cum, she found that the tasty stuff acted as an
appetizer. She was ravenous. He took her to a nice restaurant and
wined her and dined her. And, as fate would have it, the
restaurant sold lottery tickets.

He bought one for himself. Almost as an afterthought, he bought
one for Jessica.

She didn't expect to win anything, but it was a nice gesture. In
return, she blew him again before leaving for her singing
engagement, gargling his jism down happily.

Driving back to the States the next day, she opened her handbag
to find her cigarettes and found the lottery ticket. She figured
it would get lost if she left it in her handbag and slipped it
down into the pocket on the door, where she kept gas receipts,
matches, road maps and tissues for mopping up spare jism when she
fucked in her car.

She forgot about the lottery ticket after that.

She remembered the number of the ticket, however. Jessica had a
good memory for numbers and could remember to the fraction of the
inch just how long every cock was she had ever measured. And with
her memory trained by all those figures, it was only natural that
she should recall the number of a lottery ticket without really
concentrating on it.

A month passed and she took the job in Buffalo, leaving her car
with Jack in lieu of money to pay her phone bill-and with the
car, the lottery ticket.

Another month passed, seeming like a year in Buffalo, but she was
glad of the steady job, was paid well enough-for a girl who
couldn't really sing very well-and received the attentions of
quite a few local men.

Although Jessica was not a whore and would never take money in
return for sex, she didn't mind if they took her out to dinner or
gave her costly gifts to go along with all the inches of prick
they shoved into her and all the loads of spunk that she milked
from them.

Then she met another Canadian gentleman.

He had a sizable lump in his trousers and Jessica went to his
room with him. He screwed her efficiently. After he'd come, his
cock got soft. Not satisfied with a single fuck, she waited for
him to get stiff again, sitting beside him and frigging his
semi-hard dick lazily. She happened to see a copy of a Toronto
newspaper on the nightstand and began to thumb through it to pass
the time until he was rampant and ready for more exciting things.

She glanced through several editorials that proved that Canada
was superior to the United States in all respects, that they had
the highest tower and the nicest people and the best beer and no
gasoline shortages-and even that they were every bit as
prejudiced, not willing to admit that an American could do
anything more thoroughly than a Canadian.

Then she saw the list of winning lottery numbers.

Her well-trained memory for numbers flashed. She looked down the
list, mildly curious. She blinked.

The number had stuck in her head just as the length of every
prick had lodged there, and she cried out aloud in amazement and
excitement.

She had won one hundred thousand tax-free dollars!

She was so delighted that she gave the astonished Canadian the
best blow-job he'd ever had, milking his cock and balls so
thoroughly that he thought his guts were going to come out along
with his spunk.

And only later, as she wiped his jism from her lips, did she
recall that she had left the winning ticket in her old car, in
the pocket where she kept tissues to mop up jism.

She tried to telephone Jack Bramley instantly.

His phone was disconnected.

A letter would take too long. She was desperate to get in touch
with him and to find out if he still had her car. She phoned the
club, telling them she had to visit her dying aunt, and took the
next bus out.

And that was why, with ulterior motives, but enjoying the game
along the way, that Jessica wound up in Jack Bramley's one-room
apartment on that Sunday morning, her timely arrival coinciding
with his need to blow his wad.

After she'd fucked him, he was in a fine humor.. .and she
reckoned that he would be even more agreeable after she'd added a
blow-job to the balling. If she could locate the car without
revealing her motives, it would simplify things, she thought. He
was a nice enough guy, but a bit of an opportunist-he might
demand a share of the money in return for helping her locate the
ticket, or worse, he might retrieve the ticket himself and cheat
her out of everything. She didn't really think he was that sort
of fellow, but a girl could never be sure and should not allow
herself to be blinded by the size of a man's cock which, she had
long ago discovered, had no apparent relation to his honesty or
motivations.

What was motivating Jack, at the moment, was a burning desire to
bury his big dick in Jessica's mouth. Although the girl was eager
to get on with her search for the lottery ticket, she was every
bit as eager to have a feast of cock-meat which she would wash
down, in the end, with a drink-on-a-stick, as Jack was to feed
her that delicacy.

Curled onto her flank, one thigh drawn up under her and the other
leg extended down the bed, Jessica leaned over his belly and
gazed at his cock, just as a glutton would have gazed at a full
spread on a table.

She licked her lips in anticipation.

Her eyes ran up and down his stout stalk, admired his bulging
purple cock-head and looked with favor upon his bloated balls.
She leaned closer. Her eyes crossed as her bifocal vision turned
inwards, making her look cockeyed. Her tongue slid back and forth
across her lips and her lips trembled slightly, turned outwards a
bit, as if they were doing warming up exercises for the effort
ahead.

Although she was looking forward to sucking his prick, she was in
no hurry for the tasty treat. She lingered over the warm-up,
savoring the expectation.-

Jack removed his hand from her head, having guided her into
position, and put both hands behind his neck, linking his fingers
and shifting around to get comfortable. He knew from past
experience that he needed to do nothing now, that he could simply
relax and enjoy it.

He looked down, watching the girl as she looked at his cock. It
was very erotic to see her lovely face hovering so close to the
head of his pecker and to see how greedily she gazed down at his
loins. Her fat tits swayed, hanging down over his belly like ripe
fruit ready to be plucked from the vine, while his dong stood up
like some elongated vegetable grown to full bloom and ready for
the table.

"Suck my cock," he whispered.

"Oh, yes," she said, needing no directions or urging. She leaned
forward and down. Her mouth passed close to the head of his
prick, but slipped to the side, not quite making contact.
By-passing his knob, she lowered her face to his balls.

She intended to make a full-course meal out of his swollen
organs, licking his balls for an appetizer, sucking on his shaft
and knob for a meat course, and then drinking his jism for a
creamy dessert.

She began to tongue his balls lovingly.

She placed one hand on his thigh and the other on his belly, as
if holding him in place, framing his prick between her hands. Her
tongue glided over his balls with long, moist slurps, running
over the contours and slipping underneath. She could feel his
hard nuts shift inside the hairy bag as she lapped merrily away.
Jessica had a great deal of respect for balls. Although they did
not taste as good as a cock-head and did not fit so perfectly
into her mouth, she respected them for their function-not their
contents. It was from that hairy sac that the creamy culmination
would be delivered and she pleased his balls accordingly, lapping
them with her tongue and then fitting her pursed lips to the
swollen bag and sucking gently.

Jack began to squirm and wriggle. His cock, temporarily
neglected, pounded away lustily beside her cheek.

Tilting her head, Jessica moved up from his balls and ran her
tongue all the way up his shaft from hilt to head with a long,
luscious slurp.

Again and again she tongued the length of his stalk, her blonde
head going up and down as her tongue traced along the pulsing
ventral vein.

"Ummm," she sighed, happily.

Her taste buds were tingling with the flavor of his hot, musky
cock-meat.

His stalk was glistening with her saliva and the cleft tip had
begun to weep pre-cum.

Jessica fitted her parted lips to the root of his shaft and began
to slide her head up and down his rod as if she were playing a
skin flute.

"Yummy," she whispered.

She lifted his balls and tongued beneath them and along his
crotch, then came back up to his shaft. His hips were dancing and
gyrating and his thighs were trembling. He was afraid that he
might blow his wad at any moment, shooting his spunk straight up
into the air before the cock-sucking blonde took it into her
mouth and he began to whimper. But he needn't have worried, for
Jessica was not about to let his succulent jism go unswallowed.
Hovering over his balls with loving attention, she was closer
than he was to the point where his climax would begin. She would
not linger too long.

She fitted her lips to the underside of his stalk and slid up
again. This time she went right up to the top of his knob,
kissing the cleft tip and pushing her tongue right into the
opening. She licked up the milky drops that were flowing from his
piss-slit, running her tongue all around his cock-head and
gathering every drop of that precious fluid, letting it trickle
over her taste buds for a moment and then swallowing it down.

The taste of that pre-cum made the horny girl ravenous for the
full load to come.

She parted her lips over his cock-head and slowly pushed her head
down, taking his knob into her mouth inch by inch. The whole big
slab of his pecker-head slipped into her maw.

Her lips closed in a tight collar behind his cock-head and
clamped to his rod.,  With just the head of his prick buried in
her mouth, she began to suck vigorously. Her cheeks hollowed in,
then blew out. She seemed to be trying to inhale his cock right
down into her lungs.

The fat stalk stood out between them like a fleshy rivet, bolting
his balls to her mouth in a carnal construction. She was drooling
down his thick shaft, her saliva running down the rod and onto
his belly and balls. She sucked in and then blew out, her hot
breath billowing down over his loins. His cock-head was drooling
steadily now. She swallowed some of the creamy stuff. Some of it
escaped, overflowing her lips and running down his stalk along
with her saliva.

Then she began to move her head up and down as if she were
ducking for apples in a barrel.

She pushed down, sucking through every inch, taking almost all of
his mighty cock into her head. The fat knob lodged in her throat
and she gagged, but she never faltered for a moment. Her throat
worked, fluttering, as if she were some strange, amphibious
creature who could breathe prick as well as air. She drew back
up, her lips dragging along his stalk, until only the knob
remained in her mouth, then went back down, going even farther
this time.

His cock-head slipped right down her gullet.

She fed every inch of his prick to her greedy face, going down so
far that her nose nestled into his wiry pubic thicket and her
chin brushed against his bloated balls.

She began to bob up and down along his stalk with a steady
motion, building the friction up by moving her lips and enhancing
it by sucking as she bobbed.

Her tongue flashed back and forth against the underside of his
knob and shaft as her head went up and down, then curled into an
arch over which his prick rode en route to her throat. Her lips
turned almost inside out as she sucked. Tilting her head from
side to side, she let his cock-head push into first one cheek and
then the other, adding a new sensation, using every part of her
mouth on him.

His knob was flowing cum heavily now.

As her lips dragged up his shaft, silvery streams of cum and
saliva ran down the rod. When she lowered her face, she slurped
those mingled fluids up and swallowed them, only to repeat the
process on the next stroke.

Jack began to hump his ass from the bed as he fucked up into her
face.

Muscles were jumping along his thighs and his belly tightened in
readiness.

"Gonna come . . . " he gasped.

"Umphfff . . . " she said, unable to articulate around the big
mouthful of his cock-head-but her meaning was clear. Her head
began to bob faster now as she realized that his delicious load
was almost ready to spurt into her mouth.

"Unghhh," she gasped as his fat, drooling cock-head jammed down
her throat.

And, "Ahhhh . . . " as her taut lips dragged back up the
throbbing stalk on the upstroke.

Jack wailed with ecstasy.

Jessica's head went down to the hilt of his cock. Just as she
took it all into her mouth, he blew his wad in a tremendous
spurt, coming with such force that the girl's greedy head was
rocked by the explosive geyser.

Her mouth was filled to the brim with jism.

She gulped the joy-juice down ravenously, making room for
more-and just in time, as he hosed her throat with a second great
dose of jism.

Again she swallowed furiously. Some of the lovely stuff
overflowed from her lips and poured down his stalk. She jammed
her mouth down after it, not wanting to miss a single drop, and
he shot again, whitewashing her tonsils with the sticky fluid.

Drained, he sank back into the soft mattress, his whole long,
lean body quivering.

Jessica continued to pull and suck on his prick until she was
sure that she had milked out every drop, not that a single bit
remained in his balls, not a solitary glob lurked in his
cock-head. She had already swallowed most of it. A little
remained in her mouth, squishing around her teeth, dripping like
creamy stalactites from the roof of her mouth, sliding around in
her cheeks like glistening oil. She didn't drink that down, for
she loved to have the taste of cum linger in her mouth as long as
possible following a blow-job.

She pulled her lips away from his gleaming cock-head and used her
tongue to gather up the drops that had escaped onto his hairy
balls.

Then she looked up, smiling happily.

"Now," she said. "About that car . . . "

CHAPTER FOUR

"What in hell is so important about the car?" Jack asked as he
got dressed. He was tucking his cock into his fly as he asked the
question. It had gone soft now, following his two orgasms, but
even in that state it was an impressive hunk of meat. It looped
down like an elephant's trunk in front of his thighs as he pushed
it into his pants.

Jessica was pulling her panties on. They had dried out by now,
but her crotch was still wet and slippery. When she drew them up
they got damp all over again, molding to the contours of her
crotch.

"It's a secret," she said.

"It's only an old Chevy . . . "

"I'll tell you.. .after we find it. Okay?"

Jack shrugged.

"If we don't find it.. .well, Pm going to be very unhappy. I'll
probably be so unhappy that I won't feel like giving you another
blow-job for a long time . . . "

"We'll find the damn thing," said Jack.

* * *

Vic Santo's used car lot was only a few blocks away and they
walked there. It was nearly opening time by now, and hung over
gentlemen were staggering towards their local bars and saloons.
Not a few of them looked appreciatively at sexy Jessica as they
passed. Although she had no interest in them-not at the moment,
at least-she had enough narcissism in her nature so that whenever
she noticed a man looking at her, she swung her ass like a
pendulum and thrust her tits out and smiled, greatly appreciating
their appreciation.

"I hope he's open on Sundays," she said as they drew near the
place.

"Yeah, Santo won't ever pass up a chance to sell a car," Jack
said. "He's always open."

Jack pointed out the lot across the street. Banners and flags
flew over it and the office was a small, whitewashed building
with a garage attached, where Santo's mechanics could get a used
car in condition to run, at the very least, out of the premises.
Santo sold his cars as is and never gave a refund, but he was
always embarrassed, to his credit, when one of his cars broke
down before it had reached the driveway.

They looked from across the street.

A dozen used cars sat on the lot, the prices marked on the
windshields with a grease pencil!

Jessica's Chevrolet was not among them.

"Oh, dear . . . "

"He must have sold it."

"Maybe we can trace it to the new owner."

"It's that important, huh?"

"Yes, it sure is."

"Well, we can ask him . . . "

"Errr.. .maybe I'll have more luck dealing with him if I go
alone," Jessica said.

Jack looked at her, then shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said.

He looked around. A sordid bar with grimy windows was just
opening its doors down the street and he pointed it out. "I'll
wait in there," Jack said.

Jessica went across the street.

Jack watched her delicious ass sway as she moved, shook his head,
wondering what this was all about, figured it was well worth his
trouble if he got another blow-job or two out of it, and walked
on down to the bar.

Vic Santo was short and wide.

He fancied himself a ladies man, which was strange, because he
had never had a lady except for his wife, who was no lady and was
so ugly that no one but Vic had ever had her, either. But it was
not strange that Vic had no success with women, because he was an
unsightly fellow with an unfortunate personality, usually
referred to as a creep-especially by anyone who had brought a
used car from him.

He was bald on top, but he compensate by growing his hair long at
the sides and sweeping it over, which fooled no one but himself.
His ears stuck out. Out of his ears stuck thick tufts of bristly
hair. Other tufts stuck out from his nose, which was bulbous and
so traced with red veins that it looked like a roadmap. He
sported a carefully trimmed moustache, Clark Gable style, but no
one knew this because the hairs from his nostrils covered the
moustache completely.

He always wore plaid or checkered sports jackets and hand-painted
neckties with a nice, big plastic tie pin stuck through them to
hold them neatly in place.

Vic did have one attribute that might have made him attractive to
women.

He had a fat cock.

It wasn't inordinately long, but it was one of the fattest pricks
in town. It was almost fatter than it was long. Yes, this might
have interested women, had they known. But Vic had never gotten
far enough with a girl so that she had a look at his prick. And
his wife, no fool, had never told him that his cock was out of
the ordinary. She had never seen another cock, it is true, but
she was a lewd and lusty woman who often looked at pornographic
pictures, so she was a fair judge of prick despite her
inexperience.

She also had a monstrous cunt.

Because she had started at an early age, shoving whatever tubular
object was at hand up her snatch, she had developed a cavernous
twat. Bananas, sausages, pogo sticks and Bull workers had been
thrust up her pussy, so that her hole was perfectly suited to her
husband's wide cock. They fit together like the interlocking
pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They might have had a splendid love
life, had they not both been so unsightly that they gagged whilst
fucking.

She had also used her Bullworker in the more expected way,
developing gigantic muscles, with which she often tossed Vic
around the room.

So Vic, all things considered, was delighted when he saw the
gorgeous blonde walk onto his used car lot.

He straightened his hand-painted necktie and plastered a
salesman's grin across his mouth.

"Looking for a good used car, lady?" he asked as she approached
his office.

"I'm looking for an old red Chevrolet," she said.

Vic blinked. Most of his customers were not quite so specific.

He said, "I got an old green Pontiac.. .that's almost the same
thing."

"No, I want a specific car."

Vic was looking at her tits, admiring the way the nipples poked
out against the material of her blouse, thinking that General
Motors had never made bumpers like that, even in the good old
days.

Jessica noticed his interest and smiled. She wanted his help. She
arched her back so that her tits thrust out toward his bulging
eyes.

She said, "About a month ago you bought a red Chevy from a fellow
named Jack Bramley."

"Yeah, I remember."

"That's the car I want."

"Sorry, lady.. .it's already sold."

"Shit," said Jessica.

Vic thought it was very erotic to hear a woman say a word like
that. He was willing to bet that she had a real pretty asshole.

He said, "If I'd known you was coming, I'd of kept it for you.
But I sold it the same day I bought it."

"Could you . . . " she smiled fondly upon him.. . "please give me
the name and address of the new owner?"

"Well, I don't know as how that's ethical," said Vic, who knew
the word well, having heard it in court fourteen times when he
had been sued for selling lemons. He said, "A used car salesman
is like a priest, sort of, or a lawyer.. .things like that are
privileged information."

"Please . . . "

Vic figured that if she couldn't find the car she wanted, she
might take the green Pontiac off his hands.

"Can't do it, lady," he said.

"I'd be ever so.. .grateful . . . "

Did she mean.. . ?

Naw, she couldn't mean that.

"I got my reputation to think of," he said.

Jessica thought fast.

"You're lucky," she said. "I don't have a good reputation,
myself. That's because I fuck a lot." Vic gulped. Jessica looked
sad.

"I even fuck ugly, bald guys," she said.

But Vic didn't know he was ugly, and although he knew he was
bald, he didn't think anyone else had noticed.

He frowned.

"Not that you're ugly," she quickly added.

"Well, now . . . " Vic was torn between a desire to help her and
find out what form her appreciation might take and an equal
desire to sell the green Pontiac before it collapsed into a heap
of rust on his lot.

"How come you want that car, anyhow?"

"It used to belong to me, you see, and . . .  it has great
sentimental value . . . "

"Plenty of sentiment to a green Pontiac."

"Yes, but . . . " She thought some more. She smiled demurely,
averting her eyes. "I'll be honest with you," she said. "I gave
my first blow-job in that car."

Vic almost fainted.

"You know how it is . . .  no matter how much cock a girl sucks,
she always remembers her first mouthful . . . "

Vic hadn't known that at all.

He had never been blown.

His face twitched and his mouth quivered.

"You better come into my office," he said.

They walked quickly into his little white shack.

Stalling, he looked through his sales records, and, over the top
of the ledger, at Jessica. Nuggets of sweat beaded his wide brow
and his tongue flicked nervously between his heavy lips.

Jessica stood across the desk, her hip shot out, posing languidly
in a sultry manner.

But she was puzzled.

Vic Santo had a hard-on. She could see that plain enough. Very
few hard-ons ever escaped her eye. But it was the funniest shaped
hard-on she had ever seen. It was more like a solid block in his
pants than a tube, a massive but truncated cylinder.

Jessica was curious to see what a cock looked like that could
make such a strange bulge.

She wasn't bothered because Vic was ugly, either, for she had
never been the sort of girl who was more interested in form than
substance. In face, in a nice distaff variation on what was
usually a male theme, she had been known to claim that ugly men
were better lovers because they were so grateful to get some
pussy.

She slid onto the edge of his desk, letting her skirt ride well
up her shapely thigh. Sitting on one flank, she crossed that leg
over the other.

Her foot arched, her toe pointed, she rocked her ankle back and
forth slowly. Somehow, another button had come undone on her
blouse.

Vic's hands were shaking as if the sales ledger were a welter
burden.

"Are you looking?" Jessica asked him. He had stopped all pretense
of looking at the ledger and was looking at her with total
concentration. He could see the contour of her right tit as her
blouse gaped open. As she shifted slightly, he glimpsed her taut
nipple. Her skirt was up so far that he figured he would be able
to see her crotch, if he could think of some reason to bend down.

He knew his aroused fascination simply had to be obvious to the
woman.

Yet she didn't seem to mind at all.

She was smiling and shifting about as if responding to the visual
caress of his eyes.

Of course, there was every chance that she was just a
cock-teaser, one of those horrid women who liked to lead a man on
and let him believe he could fuck her and then, when his pecker
was ready to burst, turn him down. But if that was the case, it
was too late for Vic to take measures to prevent it-for his cock
was already as hard as it could get, and that was plenty hard. He
didn't really figure he had much hope of fucking this beautiful
girl, but he sure as hell had to give it his best shot.

Her foot swayed up and down.

He stared at it like a cobra looking at the swaying flute that
was mesmerizing it. Then his eyes traveled up her long calf and
up her trim thigh. He began to pant like a steam engine with the
hot pressure that was building up in the boiler of his balls.

How could he start?

How could he get his hot hands on her body?

Vic was not an imaginative fellow, except when it came to
imagining that people thought he had hair on top of his head, but
what little imagination he had was working overtime now, inspired
by the vision of delight that was curled so erotically on his
desk.

He said, "I can't really give you the name and address of the
buyer . . . "

Jessica frowned.

"It just wouldn't be ethical to do that.. . " He closed the
ledger and put it down on the desk.

"However . . .  if you were to sneak a look in my sales book
while I wasn't looking.. . " Now Jessica smiled.

"Why, yes . . .  no one could blame you then, could they? If you
didn't know . . . "

"If only I was distracted," he said. "If a customer came to talk
to you . . . "

"Yeah. Or if I was doing something else

"Why; yes . . . " said Jessica.

Vic gazed at her questioningly. Jessica, still smiling, inclined
her head.

Vic came around from behind his desk, leaving the ledger where it
was. He walked to the door of the little office and pretended to
be looking out. He was whistling through his teeth, a harsh,
hissing sound, as if he was letting off steam through a safety
valve. His hands were clasped around his back. He heard the
rustle of her clothing, the swish of her leather skirt against
the desk.

He turned around.

Jessica had slid off the desk and leaned over. She had opened the
ledger. Her black leather ass was thrust back and tilted up. Her
legs were spread, drawing the skirt tight across her thighs above
the knees. Her tits hung down over the desk.

Vick had never seen anything as inviting as her trim, taut ass
swaying before him.

He moved up behind her.

He was terrified that he had misunderstood, that she might reject
him, but he knew that he had to act before she located the name
and address for which she was looking. Holding his breath, "he
reached out and placed his trembling hand against the cheek of
her ass.

Jessica shifted her weight, pushing her ass back against his
hand.

Vic began to knead and massage her ass and her hips moved as if
she were doing a slow dance. She was still looking through the
ledger, but her attention had begun to waver. Her head switched
from side to side. She purred like a cat. Her blonde hair swept
down over her tits like a veil. He was fondling her ass with both
hands now, standing close. Pushing his hips forward, he brushed
his hard-on against the back of her thighs.

"Ummm," she sighed.

Sweating and groaning, he moved one hand down, stroking the back
of her knee, then slowly worked his way up her leg, rubbing the
silken smooth flesh of her inner thigh as he delved up under her
skirt.

He pushed his hand into her crotch, palm up, cupping her plump,
moist cunt. His fingers closed, curling up over her pussy-mound
as if he was afraid she might snatch her twat away. He intended
to retain his grip at all costs. But instead of withdrawing, the
oversexed blonde began to squirm happily on his hand. She was
enjoying herself tremendously. She always liked to have a man
play with her pussy, but usually she was so hot and wet that,
requiring no foreplay, they got right on with the fucking. Vic's
tentative, uncertain approach was a pleasant variation for her.

And her cunt was a joy to touch.

He squeezed it and rubbed it, feeling the heat of her loins seep
through her panties. Those brief panties were sopping wet. He ran
his finger along her parted slit, dragging the crotch band of her
panties right up her hole. It felt so good that he just had to
see it.

He lifted her skirt.

Jessica squirmed as he raised the hem above her hips, up to her
waist, exposing her bikini-clad ass and crotch. He stared down at
her for a moment, then hooked his fingers under the elastic band
and drew her panties down her thighs. As he lowered them, he sank
down with them, kneeling behind her to remove them from her feet.
She lifted each foot in turn so that he could take them off.

Kneeling in that position, Vic was on a level with her crotch,
gazing right up her steaming cunt.

Her pussy-lips were parted so wide they seemed to be turning
inside out, and her inner flesh was streaked with ribbons of
pearly pussy-juice.

It looked so tasty that Vic simply had to have a little snack of
twat.

He leaned in and his tongue came out.

"Oh!" Jessica gasped.

She began to flip through the pages of the sales book furiously,
wanting to get that business finished with so that she could
concentrate on the pleasure of having her cunt eaten out without
any distractions.

She found the name and address of the person who had bought her
Chevrolet.

She closed the ledger.

Vic heard the book close and looked up, horrified, thinking that
she might not want him to continue.

"Oooooh, don't you dare stop," Jessica whispered.

And Vic, who would rather eat out a cunt than anything except
fuck one-or maybe sell that green Pontiac-dropped his head back
into her crotch.

He used only his tongue at first.

Lapping and laving, he tongued her frothy lips and slurped across
her taut clit. Then he stabbed his hot tongue right up her hole,
tongue-fucking her furiously. This brought his lips into contact
with her cunt-lips and he began to suck steadily. Cunt-juice ran
over his tongue and into his mouth. He gulped it down ravenously.

His prick was screaming for attention, but he was so happy with a
face full of hot pussy that he ignored the demands of his cock as
he sucked merrily away.

His tongue swept up in a long, fluttering slurp that laved her
from clit to asshole. Pausing at the top of the stroke, he licked
at her anus, then pushed his tongue right up her taut nether
hole, rimming out her asshole savagely while she writhed and
moaned and humped against him.

He pushed his middle finger up her cunt and began to finger-fuck
her. Her cunt-lips pulled on him. He added his index finger, then
began to shove all four fingers up her at once, filling her twat
to the brim. He was amazed at how tight she was. Sometimes he put
both hands up his wife's snatch and clapped them together inside
her big cunt.

Cunt-juice poured down his forearm and streamed down her
widespread thighs as he finger-fucked her cunt and tongue-fucked
her asshole.

He lowered his face to her crotch again and began to suck on her
clit and cunt-lips while he continued to shove four fingers
steadily up her hole.

She started to come.

Her pussy was flooding so heavily that he could hardly manage to
swallow it all. It was like draining some carnal crankcase,
giving her an oil change-with the oil that was building up in his
balls.

Her ass flashed. Her thighs vibrated. He grasped her by the
hipbones and tilted her crotch up as if it were a goblet he was
draining to the dregs.

She shuddered and whimpered, then collapsed across the top of the
desk with a happy, dreamy smile.

Vic sucked away until he was sure he had pulled every spasm and
every drop of her cunt-juice out of that tasty love box.

He emptied her cunt.

Now it was time to fill it up again . . .

CHAPTER FIVE

Vic swirled his nimble tongue around in her crotch like a wisk,
giving her tasty twat a parting lick, and then stood up behind
the satisfied blonde. She was sprawled out over the desk, her ass
hiked up, her thighs spread, her skirt still above her hips. For
a moment, the horny used car salesman merely looked at her,
fascinated by the contours of her splendid body and thrilled by
the expectation of fucking her. His tongue was satisfied and now
his prick was fairly rampaging in his pants, trying to rip
through the material.

He yanked his zipper down.

Hearing the rasp, Jessica turned her face and looked back over
her shoulder, wanting to see his cock before it disappeared into
her twat.

She blinked.

Vic hauled his fat cock out from his fly. Jessica was astonished
at the bizarre proportions of his remarkable hunk of meat.

He opened his belt and let his trousers drop, exposing his big
prick. Seeing that she was looking at him with concentration, he
pushed his hips out towards her, putting his cock and balls on
display as if they were a mounted trophy.

His prick was of an average length but it looked stubby and
truncated because of the incredible breath of the shaft and knob.
The great, mushroom-shaped crown was pulsing and starting to
foam. The gnarled shaft writhed with readiness and his balls
looked as if they were about to burst.

"What a fat cock!" Jessica exclaimed in delight.

"Nice, huh?" he said, beaming with pride. "Very nice.. . . "

"You want it, lady?"

She smiled by way of answer, thrusting her ass and pelvis higher
so that her crotch was angled in the position for fucking on the
desk. Vic shuffled closer.

He wrapped his fist around his shaft, holding it like a baseball
bat or truncheon, grasping it tightly with the big head flaring
out. Pushing his hips out, he directed his prick towards her
cunt. The great knob was glowing-she could feel the phallic heat
from his cock and balls wash over her ass and haunches as if it
were a fiery brand that he was holding out towards her.

Her cunt was just as hot.

Although she had just had a lovely climax in his face, she always
liked to follow an oral orgasm with some good hard cock. She was
looking forward to being stuffed full of that incredibly thick,
hard prick.

He placed the tip of his cock against her creamy, pink slot and
ran it up and down. Her cunt-lips pulled on his knob, fluttering
and slurping.

Vic pushed his cock-head into her pussy.

The big purple slab spread her cunt-lips wide as it slipped up
her hole, filling her slot to the brim. He paused for a moment,
then rammed all his cock into her. His cock steamed up her cunt
and the randy blonde gave a little gasp of surprise, followed by
a contented sigh, as she felt her cunt spread wide to take his
huge prick. She didn't think she had ever been so full of cock on
the first stroke. Usually the initial stroke was fluid and easy,
until she clamped her cunt-muscles down and got ready to fuck.
But with Vic's massive tool there was no need to tighten her hole
around the contours. He had spread her out to the limits, testing
the elasticity of her pliable pussy thoroughly. Had his cock been
a single millimeter fatter, she didn't think she could have
managed it.

For his part, Vic was astonished to find that his cock was fitted
snug and tight, gripped in her slippery cunt as if in a vise. He
was used to his wife's cavernous cunt . . .  he figured that
Jessica must have a really tiny twat.

For a moment he just stood there, appreciated the sensation of
having his cock buried in tight pussy.

Then Jessica began to move sinuously.

She pulled her crotch forward then pushed back, turning her hips
from side to side as she thrust. His cock was fitted so tightly
up her snatch that, on the first stroke, instead of sliding her
hole up and down on his shaft, she merely pulled his hips along
with her, his prick remained buried. But then the fit loosened a
bit. When she moved again, she pulled her cunt up his cock, then
pushed down, sheathing it to the hilt, drawing away until only
his cockhead remained up her slot, then slowly collaring him
again.

He was standing still, his feet braced, so that she was jerking
him off with her cunt.

She whimpered, "Fuck.. .fuck me . .

Vic began to thrust into her then, slowly at first, then with
increasing vigor. His hard, hot cock slithered up her wet snatch
wildly. His hands cupped her under the belly, lifting her ass
high as he plowed in. His balls swung in like the clapper of a
carnal bell, slapping against her crotch with a soggy sound. He
poured the pork in with short, sharp jabs. Then he fed her a few
long, rippling strokes. Then he changed the angle and came in
with an underslung lunge that bounced her ass on the upwards
penetration.

Jessica held still for a moment, letting him pound into her. Then
she began meeting his thrusts, jamming her pelvis back as he
banged in.

Cunt-juice spurted from her well-packed twat, soaking his belly
and thighs. Ribbons of the creamy stuff poured down her crotch,
soaking the edge of the desk.

A spurt of jism jetted from his cock-head as he pushed up her
hole, helping her cunt-cream lubricate the friction of their
frantic fucking.

Jessica moaned when she felt his hot cum jet. like a catalyst, it
started her own juices flowing even more heavily than before. Her
hips spun wildly about. Her ass humped madly. She squirmed and
writhed in ecstasy as he kept up the steady battering that was
stuffing her cunt so delightfully. The thrill was building up
inside her. It swept across her loins, crashing with tidal force
in her cunt.

Her pussy began to cream.

Vic felt her cunt turn to oil around his cock-shaft. He plowed up
her greasy channel with renewed force and speed, his belly
whacking against her ass and his balls slapping into her lower
belly.

He leaned over her, bowing.

The he threw his head and shoulders back, arching, so that his
curved body touched her rounded ass only at the crucial point of
contact.

His thighs had started to tremble. His whole body was vibrating
and his prick was swelling up even more, stuffing her so full of
cock-meat that she felt she was being gorged.

Suddenly he stiffened.

His orgasm hit him so hard that, for an instant, he stood
motionless as the sap started to rush from his balls and boil up
his shaft.

Then he slammed the meat to her in wild abandon and his cum hosed
her cunt with a mighty torrent.

Feeling his jism pour into her pussy, the oversexed girl wailed
and let her climax come, her cunt-juice gushing out around his
spurting cock-head in an oily maelstrom, a whirlpool of lust that
was sucking her down into the swirling depths of ecstasy.

His huge cock raked and hoed her pussy, pumping the cunt-juice
out of her. Her twat worked on him like a velvet suction cup,
milking him to the bone.

Spurt after spurt of milky lust gushed into her cunt. Load after
load of pearly pussy-nectar seeped from her juicy cunt and
mingled with his juice until her hole was seething with
fuck-sauce. Loops and coils of cum lashed through sheets of
cunt-juice. Her crotch was foaming as the fluids poured out.

At last they were drained.

He pulled his fat plug out of her like a cork out of a bottle.
The knob bobbed up and down like a counterweight on his softening
shaft.

Her crotch was so creamy that it looked as if she had been
sprayed with lather.

"Oh, that was so nice," she purred.

She slid off the desk. Juice streamed down her thighs. Vic
gallantly offered her his breast pocked handkerchief but she
spurned it. Instead, she wiped her cunt with her hands and then
lapped the scum up with her tongue while Vic gaped at her in
amazement.

"You have such a fat dick," she said as she lithely stopped to
retrieve her panties.

"Want some more, then?"

"I'd love some more," she said, drawing the panties up over her
squirming hips. "But I really don't have any time, now, Vic. I
have things to do. But . . .  I might come back and see you
again, sometime . . . "

She smoothed her leather skirt down.

Bending over, she kissed the head of his prick-a light,
affectionate kiss, rather than an arousing one, as if thanking
his fat cock for the pleasure it had given her.

"Any time," he said.

"We'll see."

"Any time you need some fat prick.. . . "he offered.

And then, being the man he was, he added, "Or a nice green
Pontiac . . . "

CHAPTER SIX

Jack was sitting at the bar, waiting for Jessica and wondering
what was taking her so long-for he had no idea that used car
salesmen had a code of ethics and privileged information like
lawyers and doctors. But he knew Jessica, so he was a bit
suspicious.

He kept looking at his watch. He also kept looking at a lewd
woman who was playing the jukebox and dancing solo. It was a
pretty sordid sort of bar and she was a fairly sordid sort of
woman, not really the type that interested him. But she was
pretty enough to draw his attention as she danced. She had huge
tits that seemed to fairly leap out from her torso like cannon
shells bursting from a double barreled artillery piece and her
wide, pneumatic hips shot about as if they were disjointed. Her
face was pretty, in a sensual fashion, with plenty of bright red
lipstick and dark eye shadow. Her heavy mane of auburn hair fell
in disarray as she jerked and spun and swirled to the beat of the
music. She was quite obviously drunk and from time to time she
lost her balance, but she wasn't a bad dancer, for all of that.
She wore a very tight sweater and jeans that fit so snug they
might have been plastered on her loins and haunches, the denim
drawn up in a "V" at her crotch and jutting
 out prominently over her protruding pussy-mound. She smiled at
Jack.

She turned her back to him, thrust her bottom out and wiggled the
cheeks of her ass at him, looking back over her shoulder with a
suggestive wink.

Jack sipped his beer, regarding her speculatively over the rim of
the glass.

The bartender, a large fellow with plenty of tattoos, said,
"That's Rosy. She bothering you? If she's offending you, I'll
kick her out, you like."

"Why, not at all."

"Oh. I thought maybe you was a snob or something. On account of
you poured your beer into a glass instead of drinking out of the
bottle, the way a real man does."

"Oh," said Jack.

He hadn't known that about real men.

The barman said, "Don't get me wrong. I like to have guys like
you come in. You know, wearing a suit and tie and all. Guys like
you give the joint a touch of class."

"Errr.. .thank you."

"I knew you was a gentleman, soon as you walked in. I'll bet you
ain't got a single tattoo."

"Why, no, as it happens."

"Long as you ain't queer. I don't serve no queers in here,
gentlemen or not."

"Quite right," Jack agreed.

Rosy danced closer, wriggling and gyrating. Her hips were moving
just as if she had a cock stuck up her cunt, a very erotic sort
of dance.

"Rosy's a tramp," the bartender announced.

"Yes, I can see that," Jack said.

"I don't object to serving tramps, though. They ain't like
queers."

"Perhaps I should buy Rosy a drink?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," the bartender agreed, his suspicions
about Jack's manliness allayed.

He poured out a whisky. Rosy took it en passant, dancing along
the bar and sipping at the drink as she pranced about. She held
the glass in her left hand, Jack noticed. He noticed that
particularly, because the lusty woman had her right hand cupped
over her crotch. In fact, he saw, she was giving herself a
hand-job, squeezing her fat cunt and rubbing along the tight
crotch of her jeans in tempo with the music. He observed this
with interest, speculating on whether she would actually bring
herself off on the dance floor, and, if so, whether she would
break stride when she came.

She finished the drink. Gliding up to the bar, she put the empty
glass down.

She held her hand out to Jack.

He hesitated for a moment. But he sensed that the bartender was
looking at him and he figured that refusing to dance with a woman
might be taken as a sign of queerdom. And those tattooed arms of
the bartender were mighty ones, well suited to throwing deviates
out of the place.

He decided he had better dance.

He took Rosy's hand and she led him away from the bar, then
swirled, turning into his arms. A slow song was playing. She
began to grind against him in the most sensual fashion, her belly
molding against him and her meaty thighs pressing into his groin.
She put both arms around his neck, looking into his eyes. Jack
put his arms around her and cupped her taut, mobile ass, drawing
her loins to his.

The bartender looked on with approval.

Jack began to get a hard-on.

He didn't want to, figuring it would be impossible to do anything
with it and that it would only prove frustrating, but his cock
had a mind and a will of its own, and, massaged by that soft
belly and arching thighs, it swelled and hardened and carved its
outline into her pelvis.-

Her eyes widened.

Her red lips smiled lasciviously.

She led him toward the jukebox, which was at the back of the
room, bubbling merrily away in the shadows. They continued to
grind and pump, dry humping together. She leaned in and placed
her lips against his ear.

"You got a hard-on," she giggled.

"I realize that."

"A nice big one, too."

Her belly flowed over it, soft flesh rolling over his hard prick.

She began to fumble with his belt.

Jack was aghast. He was afraid that his pants would fall down,
leaving him bare-assed in public. But the wily trollop merely
loosened n his belt a few notches, then buckled it up again so
that, although they were slack about his waist now, they were in
no danger of falling.

Then she unzipped his fly.

"I don't think.. . . " he mumbled.

"Shhhh," she said. "No one with know."

The bartender looked on, knowingly.

Rosy slipped her hand inside Jack's pants.

"Don't take it out, for crissake!" he squealed.

"Listen," she said. "Gus.. .that's the bartender.. .Gus will
think you're gay, if you don't let me take your dick out. You
know what Gus does to gay guys? It ain't that I want to take your
prick out or anything . . .  I'm only doing it for your own damn
good, that's all."

"Oh, I see," Jack muttered.

She had her hand wrapped around his cock and was pulling at it,
trying to get it out. The big stalk had stuck inside his pants
and she was fumbling with it.

"But what does he do to guys who have their dicks out in his
bar?" he asked.

"Oh, he don't mind that. He's used to it."

How could Jack argue with that?

Rosy hauled his pecker out with a triumphant squeal. The big knob
and stout staff sprang up between them and the wanton dancing
girl pressed her belly against it. She was not awfully tall and
his cock was long. With his balls jammed against her cunt-mound,
the head rose up so high that it was brushing against the
underside of her tits. Her belly rolled over it. Her hips twisted
sensually. They turned through a graceful circle, pivoting around
his cock delightfully.

Rosy pulled her sweater up.

She wore no bra and her tits began to flow against him, the
nipples stiff and long. Jack shot a nervous glance over his
shoulder.

Gus looked on with a smile. Seeing that he had Jack's attention,
he nodded approvingly.

What the hell, thought Jack. If he don't care . . .

Jack drew his hand around from her ass and cupped her big tits,
pushing them together into deep cleavage and sweeping his thumbs
across her taut nipples.

Rosy sighed with pleasure.

She dipped her knees slightly, squirming, and his huge prick slid
into her soft, warm cleavage.

"Move," she whispered. "Fuck my tits.. .I like that.. . . "

Jack glanced at Gus again.

Gus was moving, too.

He seemed to be mixing a drink in a cocktail shaker, for his hand
was going up and down frantically, and it struck Jack as odd that
he would be mixing a martini in a low class place like this,
especially since there were no other customers who might have
ordered one.

Gus did, in fact, have a cocktail shaker in his hand.

But he was holding it upside down and what he was shaking inside
it was his fat prick. Although professing to hate deviates of all
sorts, Gus did not think that voyeurism was a perversion, and
there was nothing he enjoyed more than jacking off while he
watched Rosy take some dick between her tits.

He smiled at the dancers while his big, tattooed arm pumped
vigorously up and down.

Jack began to hump against Rosy.

She dipped her knees as he thrust upwards, then rose up as he
drew back, so that they were gliding together lewdly. She had
dragged his balls out along with his prick. His cum-filled sac
was rubbing against her lower belly while his enormous prick
delved into her cleavage. The knob came down to her diaphragm on
the downstroke, then pushed up so far that the purple tip came
squeezing out of her cleavage at the top and nuzzled into her
throat.

She gurgled merrily, delighted at having such a splendid cock
between her big tits.

The music ended.

Jack faltered, embarrassed at dancing without music. But then
another, faster selection began to blare out of the jukebox.
Fitting his actions to the beat, he began to hump her tits with
rhythmic haste.

Rosy tipped her face down, resting her chin against her
breastbone. Her pink tongue slid out. As the smoking head of his
prick came squeezing out of the top of her deep cleavage, her
tongue fluttered against the tip.

"Come," she whimpered.

She had one thigh between his legs, the other pressed to his
outer thigh. She was working herself off that way, grinding her
cunt against his leg. He could feel the damp heat of her crotch
coming through both the denim of her jeans and the tweed of his
trousers.

His cock-head began to bubble.

As he stroked up, the flowing knob left a glistening track up her
belly and emerged from her cleavage with a coating of frothy
spunk. Rosy happily lapped that froth up with her tongue, washing
the head of his prick so that it glistened with saliva as it slid
back into her tit-crease, then came out with a new load of jism
seeping from his gaping piss-slit.

"Yummy," she sighed as she let a trickle of the hot stuff run
down her gullet.

Her hips began to jerk spasmodically as she creamed against his
lean thigh.

Jack growled.

His cock came out from her cleavage. Just as it appeared from her
soft white mounds, the head spurted a geyser of thick jism right
up into her face.

Her lips parted and her tongue folded down.

His spunk skimmed over her tongue and shot right back into her
open mouth. She gulped it down as he pulled his cock back into
her cleavage, then opened her mouth again as he plunged up and
hosed her with another spurt.

Jack blew four or five geysers into her face and mouth. She
worked her crotch against his leg and ground her orgasm out to
the finish.

Then she bent lower, took the head of his cock into her mouth,
and sucked it clean.

"Now that," she said with a happy smile, "is what I call dancing
. . . "

Gus had been keeping pace with the dancers. When he saw Jack's
cum spurt into Rosy's eager face, his own dong went off
explosively.

He filled the cocktail shaker with jism.

Sweating and weak-kneed, he leaned on the bar and gracious host
that he was, announced, "The drinks are on the house, folks . . .
"

* * *

Jack and Rosy were seated at the bar when Jessica came in. "What
took you so long?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I had to look through a lot of records."

"You find the car?"

"I found out who bought it," she said as she moved up to the bar
and took a stool next to Jack. Rosy leaned out, big tits
thrusting over the counter, to look at Jessica. Jessica noticed
that the woman's lips were streaked with some sort of white stuff
and that her lipstick was smeared.

Jack looked extremely innocent.

He said, "We got to go now, huh?"

"I wouldn't mind a drink first," Jessica said.

"It's on the house," Gus said. He was looking at Jessica with
interest. "I don't suppose you dance?"

"Well.. .sure. But not now."

He shrugged. That was a shame, he thought.

"What's your pleasure?"

"I'll have a martini," she said.

Gus had never sold a martini before, but he had read the
bartender's guide and he know how to make one. He forgot that he
had already used the cocktail shaker.

He poured in gin and vermouth and shook it.

He poured a glass for Jessica.

She took a sip and frowned.

She took a second, larger sip, swirling it around in her mouth,
tasting it.

Then she grinned.

"This isn't a martini," she said.

"Sure it is," Gus protested.

"Nope. It's a cum cocktail," said the oversexed blonde and she
drained it down.

"Delicious, too," she said.

Gus could see that this was a girl who could do herself justice
on the dance floor . . .

CHAPTER SEVEN

The cocktail had been so good that, despite her eagerness to
locate the car, Jessica simply had to have another. But the
second one was not as tasty. Most of the secret ingredient had
gone into the first mix. Jessica, who knew cum when she tasted
it, was tempted to ask the bartender to add a dash, but she
figured she didn't know him well enough for such a personal
request, especially since the drinks were on the house. And
although it was more dry than she liked, the cocktail was still
enjoyable with just a hint of vermouth and spunk, as if he'd
merely waved his prick over the shaker.

Rosy was dancing again.

Jessica watched her, no longer suspicious about the smears on her
lips, figuring that the lusty woman had also been drinking
cocktails.

Jack said, "Well? What's the name?"

"I wrote it down," she said. She got the paper out and read it
off.

"That's funny," he said.

"What is?"

"It just doesn't make sense . . . "

He took the paper and read it, shaking his head. The man who had
bought the old car was named Martin Honeybun the Third and he
lived in Cloverdale Villas, an expensive and fashionable address.

"Let me check the phonebook," Jack said.

When he returned, he looked more puzzled than ever.

"The guy's a lawyer," he said.

"So what?"

"Well, why would a lawyer want to buy an old used car? He must
have a Cadillac or a Mercedes or something."

"I see what you mean. That is funny," she said.

"You think Santo made a mistake."

"No, I looked in his ledger myself."

"Damn strange," Jack said, frowning.

"I guess I'll have to take a taxi there," Jessica said. "You want
to wait here?"

Jack, who always felt uncomfortable with lawyers-and enjoyed
dancing with Rosy-said, "Yeah, I might as well."

Jessica kissed him and ran out to find a cab.

Jack almost asked for a martini, remembering in time, and had a
beer. After a while he danced with Rosy again, while Gus renewed
his supply of secretingredients.

* * *

Jessica, sexy as she was, never had any trouble hailing a taxi.
She got the first one that came along, the driver passing by
several gentleman who were signaling to him. Jessica was so
grateful to him for picking her up that she sat in the front seat
and pulled her leather skirt up far enough so that he could get a
nice look at her crotch. Her cunt was so wet and open that the
crotch band of her panties had been sucked right up her slit and
a hairy lip could be seen on either side. The driver got such a
hard-on that he had difficulty steering the cab. His cock kept
banging against the wheel.

Jessica noticed his condition-a thing that seldom escaped her
eye-and was sorely tempted to give him a blow-job in lieu of a
tip.

But she was too eager to locate the car and the errant lottery
ticket. So, regretfully, she tipped him a quarter instead.

The driver let her off at Cloverdale Villas and drove right to a
secluded spot under an elevated highway and beat his meat to a
frazzle.

Jessica approached the home of Martin Honeybun the Third,
impressed by the place.

It was a big white house, pseudo-Iberian, with cupolas and
outbuildings and sculptured hedges all over the expanses of lawn.
Jack had been right. It was remarkable that a man who owned such
a house would buy a second-hand Chevrolet from Vic Santo. Jessica
felt a bit overwhelmed, even overawed, by such surroundings. She
almost felt that she should go to the servant's entrance or
delivery door. But she steeled her nerve, thinking of all the fun
she could have with one hundred thousand dollars, and marched up
to the front door.

She rang the bell and waited, expecting a maid to answer the
door.

But the woman who opened those impressive portals was certainly
no maid-nor maiden.

She was tall, with long black hair that fell straight and glossy
over her shoulders, green eyes that were slightly tilted, as if
there were a touch of the Orient in her background, and a high
cheek-boned, finely planed face. She was wearing lounging pajamas
of raw black silk, tied at the waist and flowing loose at top and
bottom so that Jessica could see her cleavage and one of her
long, shapely thighs.

She looked Jessica up and down.

"Errr.. .Mrs. Honeybun?"

"That's right."

"I sort of expected a maid.. .with a lovely house like this and
all," Jessica said as she tried to figure out the right approach
to use.

"My husband, who is a schmuck, does not believe in having
servants," said the dark-haired, sultry beauty. "He doesn't
believe in slavery, either."

She said it as if she, herself, did.

Then she grinned meaningfully and said, "A little bondage,
perhaps.. .but no slavery . . . "

She was looking Jessica up and down.

"But who are you?" she asked.

Jessica explained that she was trying to locate the old car that
Honeybun had purchased. Hrs. Honeybun listened, looking a bit
dubious.

"Well, my husband is certainly a bleeding heart liberal, and all
that, but he's not such a fellow traveler with the paupers that
he'd buy a used car," she said.

"I saw his name in the sales ledger."

"I wonder if he might have bought it for some low born mistress?"
the lawyer's wife speculated, showing no inclination towards
resentment.

Then she said, "Well, come on in.. .I'll telephone Martin and see
if we can't get to the bottom of this."

She held the door open.

"Speaking of bottoms," she added, "what an adorable ass you have,
dear . . . "

"Why, thank you," Jessica said, blushing.

"My name is Miriam," Mrs. Honeybun told her, leading her down a
luxurious hallway and into a large sitting room with gilt mirrors
on the walls. She motioned Jessica towards the couch. Jessica sat
down, coiling gracefully, aware that Miriam was looking at her in
a strange fashion. She averted her gaze, feeling slightly
confused. Miriam left the room. From a distance, Jessica could
hear a murmur of telephonic communication. After a few minutes,
the sexy, sultry woman returned.

She sat on the arm of the couch.

"Well, that's explained," she said.

"He does have it, then?" Jessica asked hopefully.

"Well, no. Not now. But he did buy it." Miriam squirmed as if
trying to get comfortable. Her lounging pajamas parted, revealing
her thigh all the way up to her hip, and showing that she wore no
parities.

"You see, my husband volunteers some of his time as a consumer
advocate," she explained. "Another one of his liberal
imbecilities. Being wealthy himself-and something of a shyster,
truth be known-he feels an obligation to do charitable work.
Well, it seems that it was brought to his attention that Vic
Santo was selling unsafe cars to the poor people." She paused,
stretching her leg out and regarding the sweep of her sleek
thigh. She ran her hand up that soft curve. She went on, "Well,
Martin purchased a car from Santo-your car, it seems-in order to
find fault with it and slap a lawsuit on the fellow. But it
didn't work out that way because your car was, apparently, in
good condition. Probably the only good car Santo had ever sold.
Ironic, isn't it?"

"Errrr.. .where is the car now, then?"

"Oh, Martin gave it to one of his clients . . .  a burglar or
bank robber or murderer.. .something sordid like that. At any
rate, that's how my husband is, I'm afraid."

"I see. But . . .  do you know the name and address of this
fellow who has it now."

"Yes. He told me." Jessica waited. Miriam was smiling. "Well . .
.will you tell me?"

"I might," she said, teasingly.

Oh oh, thought Jessica. Is she going to tell me that lawyers'
wives had some sort of code of ethics, like used car salesmen?
Just what is her game?

"Well?" she asked.

But Miriam Honeybun seemed to be changing the subject.

She said, "Yes, my husband is a liberal and I am an upper class
snob. God knows how we ever got together . . .  a matter of
opposites attracting, I suppose. He defended me once.. .on a
morals charge, as it happens, and . . ,  well, that's neither
here nor there. The thing is.. .although I'm a terrible snob, I
don't mind associating with the masses. Are you poor, by the
way?'

"Sort of," Jessica admitted.

"Good, good," said the remarkable Mrs. Honeybun. "I've always
found the poor to be.. .agreeable."

"Oh, I'm plenty agreeable," Jessica said. "But I sure would like
to have that car back."

"Sentimental reasons?"

Jessica's cover story had worked with Santo and she saw no reason
to change it.

She said, "I gave my first ever blow-job in that car and have
fond memories of it."

"Ah, I see," Miriam said, and her dark eyes flashed. "Have you
given many blow-jobs since."

"Oh, sure. Lots."

"Men?"

"Well, sure. What else?"

"Well, women have been known to blow women.. . . "

"Oh, gee.. .lesbians, you mean?"

Miriam looked pained.

"Such an unenlightened attitude," she said. "I suppose you must
be a liberal, too." She sighed. "Seat belts and warnings on
cigarette packages . . .  all the tyranny of the left wing, the
fascism of health and safety. What a bore." She looked sharply at
Jessica, who was floundering in confusion. "Tell me, dear.. .do I
look like a lesbian to you?"

"Oh, gee, no."

"Quite right. I am not. And yet I seldom pass up a chance to suck
a cunt."

Shocked, Jessica gaped at the woman.

"But.. .why?" she asked.

"Why, because they are so tasty," Miriam explained as if that
were logical. "Because it's so much fun to make a girl whimper
and squirm and come. Why else?"

"I never.. .knew that."

"You like it when a man tongues you, right?"

"Oh, sure. I love that," said Jessica with enthusiasm. She was
starting to get interested, and her pussy was beginning to get
juicy.

"Well, a woman does it even better, you know. Having a cunt,
herself, another woman knows how to do it best."

"I can see that," Jessica agreed.

Miriam looked at her questioningly. "Well?"

"You mean.. .you want to eat me out."

"Exactly."

"Gee, I don't know. I never.. . . " Jessica mumbled.

"Let me put it this way. Martin gave me the name and address of
the fellow who has the car now. I'll give it to you..
.afterwards."

"Why, that's blackmail.. . . "

"Precisely."

"I . . .  I could contact your husband, myself."

"Oh, he knows how much I adore munching pussy. You can't threaten
me that way."

"Well, I could fuck him in return for the name and address,
then.. .instead of letting you.. . . "

"Being a liberal, my husband is quite impotent," said Mrs.
Honeybun. She shrugged. "He never has an orgasm except when he's
donating semen to the poor folks sperm bank."

"Oh," said Jessica.

Jessica averted her gaze. Miriam watched her with interest and
amusement. She was keen on getting her face between those lovely
legs, but not desperate, for sexy as she was, she never had any
trouble picking up a man or woman whenever she liked. That, in
fact, was the main reason that her husband refused to hire a
maid-it wasn't that he didn't believe in servitude so much as he
hated the thought of having his wife sucking off the servants. It
just wasn't done.

And Jessica was thinking: Gee, I really do have to find that
car.. .and I guess it isn't really so awfully naughty to let a
woman fool around with me.. .it's not as if I was sucking her or
anything.. .and.. .well.. .she does look awfully sexy and it
might even be fun . . .

She looked up and smiled.

"All right," she said.

And the minute she said it, Jessica realized that her motives
were more than simply getting the information-she actually wanted
to find out what it was like to have a sultry woman go down on
her. Her nipples had stiffened and her pussy was starting to flow
again. She was excited and thrilled. She was curious what it
would be like, and beyond her natural curiosity, she was eager
for the sensation.

Jessica said, "I . . .  I don't have to do anything, myself, do
I?" She batted her eyes innocently.

"Not unless you want to."

"Oh, I couldn't.. . . " But even as she voiced her protest,
Jessica realized that she was curious what it would be like to do
it, as well as to have it done.

"At least, I don't think I could," she added.

"You may change your mind," said Mrs. Honeybun.

"You may be right," said Jessica.

Without further ado, the two sexy women began to undress . . .

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was blackmail, not seduction-for Miriam had not so much as
touched Jessica-and yet, as she took her clothing off and watched
the dark woman do the same, Jessica did not feel at all as if she
had been coerced into compliance with the bisexual scheme. It was
hot a matter of forcing herself into a distasteful situation to
reap the benefits, not in the slightest. Jessica wanted to. The
fact that she had a valid excuse took away her inhibitions and
gave her a reason to go ahead. She was not troubled by hesitation
and figured she would not, later, suffer misgivings and regrets
for what she'd done. And the fact that Miriam was not a
dyed-in-the-wool dyke helped, as well, manifesting the fact that
just because a girl sucked off another girl it did not
necessarily mean she was truly homosexual.

Those were rational excuses.

But there was another reason, and a stronger one. Jessica had to
smile ruefully as she admitted it to herself. The main reason was
the simple one-she wanted to.

Miriam sinuously unwound her lithe body from her lounging
pajamas, standing in front of the couch. She wore nothing
beneath. Stark naked, she posed before Jessica. Jessica gazed at
her, not attempting to conceal her fascination. Although she had
often seen women naked before, this was the first time she had
ever looked at a naked woman as a sexual partner. She was
intrigued. Concentrating on Miriam, she began to fumble clumsily
with her clothing. Miriam noticed the blonde's interest. She
smiled.

She began to move slightly, swaying, putting her body on display.
Her tits were not overly large, but they were firm, thrusting
mounds, capped by large, dark nipples. She arched her willowy
torso, pushing out her tits. Her long, black hair fell over the
upper slope of one delicious tit like a veil. The stiff nipple
peeked through the strands.

Jessica could see why men liked to suck tits.

Her eyes drifted lower.

Miriam's pubic thatch was jet black and bushy, a big triangle
thrusting out on her plump mound, in startling contrast to her
smooth, ivory flesh. A slender line of hair ran up her lean belly
to her belly button. She was holding her hips back as she pushed
her tits out, so that her loins were sort of tucked in and her
trim, round ass jutted out behind. Now, seeing Jessica's eyes
move down, she pushed her belly out and let her slender, shapely
thighs part.

Jessica looked between her legs and saw that her cunt was wet and
open. The pink lips had unfurled and her slot was an ivory pool
amidst her dark pubic glen. Her clit was as long and stiff as her
nipples.

Despite herself, unable to conceal her fascination, Jessica gave
a little whimper of passion at the juicy vista poised before her
intrigued gaze.

Miriam smiled happily.

She was delighted with Jessica's reactions-though hardly
surprised, for she had long ago learned that even the most
heterosexual of women will gladly leap into the frolics of
lesbianism, given an excuse.

Now she turned slowly through a full circle, letting Jessica
admire her naked body from all angles-pausing in profile,
spinning to display her taut, juicy ass, then turning full front
again. She ran her hands over her belly, cupping her tits, moved
her fingertips up the flesh of her inner thigh.

"You're.. .lovely.. . . " Jessica whispered.

Miriam gestured for Jessica to finish undressing. Jessica
continued to stare at the dark woman as she did so. She removed
her white blouse. Miriam's eyes seemed to catch fire as she saw
the blonde's big, succulent tits. Jessica pulled her leather
skirt down, hiking her ass up from the couch to allow it to pass
under her. Wearing only her sodden panties, she sat with her legs
apart. Steam drifted from her wet crotch. The two women stared at
each other in joyful anticipation.

"Beautiful . . . " Miriam murmured.

She was licking her lips.

Suddenly, Jessica, to her surprise, realized that she too was
licking her lips. But she didn't stop and she wasn't ashamed-for
why should she be embarrassed in front of a woman who had already
professed to cunt-sucking?

Jessica started to remove her panties.

"No . . .  let me do that," Miriam said.

She sank to her knees in front of Jessica. Her fingertips slowly
caressed up the insides of the girl's spread thighs, then up the
crease where they joined her torso, not yet making contact with
her cunt. She hooked her fingers under the elastic band of
Jessica's panties, but did not draw them, down yet. She moved
closer, sighing and panting. Jessica's panties were molded to her
cunt, sucked right up into the crack. Miriam began to blow on the
blonde girl's crotch. She blew on her as if cooling some tasty
morsel that was too hot to eat, but the effect was more as if she
were applying a bellows to a fire. Jessica's cunt began to melt
with fiery lust.

"Oh.. .oh.. .oh.. . . " she gasped, manifesting her desire,
letting Miriam know what she wanted without actually begging for
it. She pushed her ass up and her crotch rose closer to Mrs.
Honeybun's eager face.

Miriam slowly pulled her panties down over her up-thrust hips,
then down her quivering ass and arched thighs. She drew them from
her feet, and, holding them up to her face, inhaled the musky
aroma of the girl's cunt-juice. Her tongue flashed. She was
lapping the cream from Jessica's panties.

Jessica whimpered urgently.

She slid her hand down over her cunt-mound and dipped her fingers
into her pussy.

Spreading the cunt-lips open, she offered herself to Miriam.

Miriam tossed the panties aside and shook her head. Her dark hair
swirled and her face was a mask of passion as she looked at the
juicy feast before her. She was salivating heavily and panting
desperately.

She tore her eyes away from that steaming twat and looked into
Jessica's face.

"Suck me off," Jessica gasped.

Miriam gave a happy sigh, paused for a final moment, a last
second's enjoyment of the expectation, and then she lowered her
drooling mouth to Jessica's snatch . . .

Miriam had been right, thought overheated Jessica.

Women did it better then men . . .

And Miriam did it best of all.

Miriam used only the tip of her tongue, at first. She tapped the
pink tip against Jessica's enflamed nugget of lust and fluttered
it in her juicy hole. Then, pushing her tongue out farther and
flattening it, she began to lap up the slot, tracing the
cunt-lips and flaring over the clit with long, juicy slurps.-She
rested her chin on the edge of the couch so that her face was a
steady sucking platform. She lapped lower, so that she was
tonguing Jessica from asshole to clit with each long, fluid
stroke. Her tongue was talented, nimble and skilled. It swept
over the blonde's hot cunt with a steady rhythm that ignited the
girl's cunt to a fever of lust.

"Ummmm.. .ummmm.. .ummmm," Miriam murmured, expressing
appreciation of the creamy delicacy.

"Ahhhh.. .ohhhh.. .ooooh.. . . " Jessica responded as that nimble
tongue thrilled her to the core.

Miriam began to tongue-fuck her then, stabbing her stiffened
tongue right up into her hole.

Jessica writhed and squirmed. Her smooth thighs clamped over the
dark woman's face, parted wide and closed again. She could not
decide which way felt better, to have that busily lapping face
clamped to her cunt or to have her thighs wide apart, giving
Miriam free rein to frolic in her juicy pussy.

Miriam began to use her lips as well as her tongue, fitting her
mouth to Jessica's twat, her parted lips molded to the girl's
cunt-lips like a suction cup. She began to suck steadily while
her tongue continued to stab into the slot.

She blew her fiery breath right up the hot hole, then sucked out,
her cheeks hollowing as she pulled a dollop of thick cunt-juice
back into her mouth.

Jessica's legs continued to open and close. Her hands moved down,
stroking Miriam's buried head, drifting down her graceful, arched
neck, moving in to finger her own clit and to spread her cunt
open against Miriam's mouth.

Miriam cupped Jessica's ass, drawing her closer, tilting her cunt
up as she drank from it. She spread her ass-cheeks apart and
fingered her asshole. She moved her hands up to fondle her fat
tits, but that manual play was merely a secondary effect. She was
totally absorbed by sucking.

"Come .  she whispered, mouthing the word right up into Jessica's
cunt, so that the blonde felt it more than she heard it. "Come
for me.. .come in my mouth.. .come, come, come . . . " She was
wild with desire, half-crazed by the joy of eating out a juicy
pussy, abandoned to her lust. She had gone suck crazy on
Jessica's clit. Her tongue was stabbing in a fury as it sped in
and out of the slippery gash. Her dark head ground from side to
side, working her whole face around in Jessica's steaming,
juice-filled crotch.

"Oh, I'm going to.. . . " Jessica wailed.

The thrill spun through her, swirling in her belly and running
like an electric current up her thighs. Her cunt had started to
turn to cream.

Miriam's tongue cupped and delved up Jessica's hole, spooning out
cum. Her lips pulled voraciously, sucking out a heavier dose of
her succulent joy-juice. Her mouth was filling up with
cunt-nectar and she swallowed it down with a gasp of ecstasy and
sucked for another mouthful of the wonderful stuff.

She held Jessica's twat wide open with her fingers and seemed to
be trying to push her whole head up inside that creaming cunt as
she milked her hungrily.

Shuddering and moaning, Jessica hovered at the peak of all
sensation for long, wondrous moments, swept by thrill after
thrill, lost to the bliss of coming.

At last-for now-she was drained.

She sank down into the cushions and extended her long legs out
beyond Miriam. Miriam continued to tongue and suck merrily away,
wanting evry drop. She looked up at Jessica, the top of her face
level with the blonde's cunt-mound and the lower half still
buried. Jessica smiled down at her. Miriam's eyes were flashing
and her mouth still munched away.

Finally, reluctantly, she had to admit that Jessica was finished
coming.

Giving her emptied cunt a final loving slurp, Miriam drew away
and sat back on her heels.

"God, that was delicious," she said.

"I loved it," Jessica said.

She giggled impishly.

"I'm so glad that you blackmailed me," she said.

"I suppose," Miriam sighed. "I suppose I'll have to give you the
name and address now, and let you go."

"Unless you lied," Said Jessica.

She was grinning.

Miriam raised her eyebrows, her expression questioning and
hopeful.

"I mean . . .  if you refused to tell me the man's name unless I
sucked you off, what could I do?" Jessica speculated. "I'd have
to, wouldn't I?"

"Do you think I lied?" Miriam asked.

"Oh, I hope so," said naughty Jessica . . .

CHAPTER NINE

Several other customers had come into the bar where Jack was
waiting. To the bartender's delight, they were playing Rosy like
a jukebox. Apparently she was well-known for her availability,
for there was no delay or hesitation about the way in which these
dubious gentlemen approached the buxom lass. like coins into a
slot, they fed cocks into her mouth. They pressed her nipples and
clit as if selecting music, and they fingered her asshole as if
it were a reject button.

Rosy began to bubble and glow under all this attention, until she
was as bright and garish as the jukebox, itself. She blew on
cock-heads as if they were trumpets, with pealing notes of
passion. She ran her pursed lips up and down pricks as if playing
the flute. Her meaty thighs worked like a squeeze box around her
vibrant cunt. The men swirled her around in the dance, then
crowded her into a booth amidst a cluster of pricks. Her teeth
flashed like piano keys and the joyful sounds she made became
gurgles as her body filled up with cum.

Gus whacked off gleefully.

Jack, watching this rare scene with interest, wondered vaguely if
Jessica was having any success at the lawyer's. He was just as
glad that Jessica was not in the bar, for he knew her well enough
to know that she might, just maybe, have wanted to throw herself
into that cluster-fuck.

It would have made him jealous.

But he knew that the wanton girl could not possibly get into a
compromising situation at a lawyer's house, where all would be
proper. If she got anything, it would no doubt be tea and
crumpets.

And even as he thought that, sexy Jessica leaned forward on the
couch, reaching out for

Miriam. She cupped the darling woman's tits, pulling and
massaging at the taut tips. Miriam gasped and leaned in to meet
the blonde. They kissed, lightly at first, lips merely brushing
together, then more passionately as the kiss became
inspirational. Miriam's black hair flowed like pitch over
Jessica's amber and gold. Dark and blonde, they complemented one
another. Their lips parted and they began to swap tongues back
and forth. Jessica could taste the lingering flavor of her own
cunt-juice on Miriam's hot tongue-it made her more eager than
ever to do some cunt-sucking, herself. She had not failed to
notice how much Miriam had enjoyed a snack of pussy. Now she
found out how absolutely delicious a mouthful of cunt-juice was,
even when sucked second hand from a tongue instead of directly
out of the pussy-hole.

Jessica slid off the couch.

The two women knelt, belly to belly and thigh to thigh. They
worked their mouths together, tongues flashing back and forth.
Golden pubic hair rustled against raven. They cupped their tits,
holding them out so that they could rub them, and their stiff
nipples clashed together like pliable swords.

They made love that way for a long time, until they were both
moaning with need. Miriam had eaten her fill, but she had not yet
had her cunt attended to. Hot juice was pouring down her lean
thighs. Jessica had already come in Miriam's mouth, but,
oversexed girl that she was, she was already starting to steam
once again.

But this time her mouth was as juicy as her cunt. Her saliva was
flowing as thick and urgent as cunt-juice and her tongue tingled
just like a stiff clit.

Speaking directly into Miriam's mouth, she whispered, "I want to
go down on you, darling . . .  my mouth is watering for the taste
of your sweet pussy . . .  I'm hungry for your cunt . . . "

Miriam began to shake so vigorously that she seemed to be coming
apart at the seams.

Miriam never had much trouble finding a cunt to suck, but
sometimes her partner, while eager to spread her thighs, was not
so willing to return the favor. That was what she had expected
from Jessica, who had never made it with another woman. Now
Miriam was as thrilled as she had ever been in her life, both by
the prospect of being eaten out by the beautiful blonde and by
the knowledge that she had so effectively introduced Jessica to
frantic lesbian sex.

Jessica slipped a hand down and cupped her cunt, palm on her
mound and fingers trailing into her slot. She petted and fingered
her drooling hole, treating it just as she did her own, on the
rare occasion when lack of cock caused her to give herself a
hand-job. She pushed her middle finger up Miriam's pussy and
switched her thumb to and fro across her vibrant clit. She rubbed
and massaged and stroked. Then she brought her hand up to her
mouth. Leaning back from the hips so that Miriam could see what
she was doing, she lapped the dark-haired beauty's cunt-juice
from her fingers.

"Ohhh.. .nice . . . " she purred.

She reached down and pushed three fingers up the slot, churning
them about. This time she offered them to Miriam, letting the
overheated woman lick up her own juice, loving the erotic sight
of that nimble tongue lapping up the cream.

She began to alternate hands, finger-fucking Miriam with one
while she sucked the cunt-juice from the other, then switching.
She began to finger-fuck herself and Miriam at the same time, and
brought both cream-soaked hands up so that they could each have a
taste.

This love-play had aroused Jessica so greatly that she felt an
actual, physical hunger for cunt.

She drew back and stretched out on the thick carpet, arching her
back and closing her eyes like a contented cat before a
fireplace.

Miriam's crotch was throwing off fiery warmth just as if a fire
had, indeed, been laid in her cunt.

Miriam misunderstood.

Seeing the lovely blonde stretch out with her legs parted and her
knees raised, she assumed that Jessica was ready for some more
sucking.

She started to go down on her, leaning over, tits hanging as if
pulled down by the weight of her big, hard nipples, hair falling
and flowing over Jessica's belly.

But Jessica shook her head.

"No.. .it's my turn," she said.

Miriam had lowered her face almost to Jessica's cunt. Now she
looked up. Her green eyes smoldered like molten jade, and a
trembling smile turned her lips.

"Ummm . . .  sit on my face," said Jessica.

She pushed her tongue out and fluttered it slowly, in moist
invitation.

Miriam whimpered.

She ducked down and took a single avid lap at Jessica's frothy
cunt, then moved up, straddling Jessica's hips and belly as she
shifted into position. She paused, hovering above the blonde's
tits. Dipping down, she began to work Jessica's nipples around
against her cunt and against her tingling clit.

Then she moved higher.

She positioned her crotch directly over

Jessica's upturned face. Instead of sitting on that inviting
seat, she hovered a few inches above it for a moment, letting
Jessica get a good look at the feast in store for her. Spreading
her cunt-lips open with her fingers, she revealed the dark inner
flesh, streaked with savory cream, bubbling and flowing like an
inverted cauldron filled with steaming stew.

The sight drove Jessica wild.

Her tongue vibrated like a tuning fork, licking at the air. Her
lips began to suck just as if that cunt were already placed upon
them. Her chin rose up, her head tilting back, waiting to be fed.

Miriam slowly lowered her crotch.

Jessica rose up to meet him.

Then they were clamped together, mouth to cunt, and Jessica began
to tongue fuck and suck frantically. Although she had never
sucked a pussy before, she found out that no experience was
necessary, that cunt-sucking came perfectly natural to her. She
had feared that her initial efforts might be a bit awkward and
fumbling, that she would have to practice for a little while
before she discovered just how to perform the tasty task. But the
instant that her mouth was on that delicious snatch, she realized
that she knew instinctively just how to go about it-that a woman
was born with the built-in knack of pleasing a pussy with her
tongue.

And a split second later, she also realized that a cunt tasted
even better than she had hoped.

Cupping Miriam's lean haunches in her hands, she fitted her lips
to that gaping slot, pushed her tongue far up the smoking hole,
and began to eat the lawyer's wife out with relish.

Miriam came almost immediately, for she had been hovering near
the heights even before contact was made. Her cunt-juice poured
into Jessica's mouth, flooding along her bridged tongue and
running down her throat.

But now that she had discovered the joys of cunt-sucking, the
horny blonde was not about to be satisfied with such a fleeting
taste.

Holding Miriam in position, she began to suck her off again,
without pause.

But now Miriam was hungry again, as well.

She turned sinuously around, her body revolving without ever
lifting her cunt off Jessica's worshipping mouth. Reversed, she
bent down and buried her face between the blonde's spread thighs.

The two adorable girls began to sixty-nine furiously.

Jessica couldn't decide which felt better, the tongue up her cunt
or the cunt on her tongue-the thrill in her twat or the thrill in
her no mouth. It seemed to be the same thrill, coursing all the
way through her torso in an alternating current, stepped up in
the transformer of her crotch and fusing in her cream-filled
mouth. It was just like an electric charge, that thrill-and
cunt-juice and saliva were both excellent conductors of such a
rare electricity.

When they came this time, they came together.

It seemed as if they were sharing the same cunt-juice as well as
the simultaneous thrill. She was gulping the pussy-cream down,
and it was pouring through her body and gushing out at her twat,
only to be slurped up by Miriam and recycled back to Jessica from
that dusky beauty's flooded snatch.

They came for a long, long time.

At last, both drained at the cunt and filled at the mouth, they
sank down in happy exhaustion.

"Oh, I'm so glad you taught me how wonderful it is to suck cunt,"
Jessica sighed.

And Miriam said, "As long as I have a face, honey, you got a
place to sit."

"Maybe I'll come visit you again.. .lots of times . . . "

"Oh, yes.. .any time . . .  all the time . . . "

"But right now . . .  I got to know who has my old Chevy . . . "

Miriam gave her the name and address.

The chase, temporarily delayed and lovingly prolonged, was on
once more . . .

* * *

Jack was at the bar when Jessica walked in again. He was looking
towards the booth at the back, by the jukebox. Gus was looking
that way, too, and furiously whipping his dick into the cocktail
shaker. It was, Jessica had to admit, a fight worth looking at.

One of Rosy's feet stuck out.

That was all that could be seen of Rosy.

Plenty of hairy asses were humping up and down and the odd cock
could be seen, momentarily, as it was drawn from a cunt and
transferred to a mouth and vice versa.

There seemed to be a regrettable lack of holes for all those
rampant dongs, thought randy Jessica, and had her mission not
been so urgent-or if she had not already come so abundantly in
Miriam's loving face-she might well had been tempted to offer her
own openings as spare accommodation.

But for the moment she was satisfied-as satisfied as a girl like
her ever was-and more concerned about her quest for the lottery
ticket.

"Did he have it?" Jack asked.

"He did.. .but not now. However, his wife-a lovely girl-was kind
enough to provide me with the name of the fellow who has it now."

"I suppose you want to go there now, huh?" Jack asked.

"Well, I hate to drag you away from the show."

A thick jet of spunk suddenly burst out of the booth as a cock
went off by accident, unburied.

"Oh, that's okay. Where is it?"

Rosy's head appeared between a thigh and an ass. Mouth open, she
rose up hungrily and let the jism blast into her face.

Jessica, despite her recent orgasms and the urgency of her
mission, began to feel a bit envious of the woman who was
receiving so much attention.

She said, "Thirty-six Slum Street."

"Slum Street?"

"Know where it is?" she asked.

"Yeah.. .it's in the slums."

"I kind of figured it would be."

"Jesus, Jessica.. .it's dangerous to go to that section of town..
.men get mugged and girls get raped there."

"Yeah. As a matter-of-fact, the man I have to see there is a
mugger or bank robber or something."

Jack looked at her, appalled.

"His name is Wally Gator. Some sort of criminal . . . "

"I ain't going there," Jack announced. He was no coward, but he
was no superhero, either.

"Well, I'll go alone, then."

"You'll get raped!"

Jessica showed him a demure smile.

Jack realized how absurd his statement had been. It was not
possible to rape a girl as willing as Jessica.

He shrugged.

Jessica kissed him, winked, and went out again. Jack wondered why
her lips tasted like cunt-juice. He could think of no possible
reason, unless she were acrobatic enough to go down on herself,
but the taste was so inspirational that, as soon as she had gone
out, he wandered over to play the jukebox . . .

* * *

Once again, Jessica got a taxi without difficulty, but when she
gave the driver the-address, he balked.

"Ain't no way I'm going there, lady," he said.

"Oh, please . . .it's quite urgent . . . "

"Nope. No cab has ever got out of that district without being
robbed."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"What's the point of that? Even if you gave me a hundred bucks,
it would just get robbed along with the rest of my money, so
there's no sense in it."

"I wasn't thinking of money . . . "

He gaped at her. She smiled so that he could see the pink tip of
her tongue.

"You talking about.. . ? " he said, startled.

"Urn hum."

"A blow-job, huh?"

She nodded, looking down at his crotch which had already started
to show interest by expanding.

He considered it.

He hated the thought of getting robbed, but on the other hand, he
had never even seen a woman as beautiful as this one, let alone
inserted his prick into such a face, and he was torn between fear
and desire. His heart hammered. His heavy pulse was echoed in his
throbbing cock.

Her tongue slid around a little.

"Well, okay, lady," he said. "I'll probably live to regret it.. .
.  providing I live at all.. .but, okay. But you got to give it
to me on the way. Once I've got my rocks off, they can't rob me
of the blow-job, see?" Jessica saw his logic.

It also suited her own purposes. For by sucking him off while he
drove the cab, time would be saved. Giving him no chance to
change his mind, she leaned over, opened his pants and hauled out
his pecker. It was an admirable prick, large and sturdy, and the
tip was already starting to dribble with tasty spunk. She
fluttered her tongue against it, then slid the tight collar of
her lips over his pecker-head and. began to. suck steadily while
she frigged him quickly up and down with her hand.

His cock-meat and cum tasted very nice, blending with the flavor
of cunt-juice that still lingered on her tongue. She bobbed her
head up and down. Her hand rose and fell. Her lips and tongue
worked skillfully.

The driver put the cab in gear. Somewhat unsteadily, he began to
weave through traffic.

He revved the motor up and down as if timing the strokes of the
pistons to those of his own meaty piston as it churned through
the high compression of her mouth, two-stroking her head while
his cum built up in his double-clutching balls. His carnal
crankcase cried out to be drained. He narrowly avoided lamp posts
and fire hydrants and other traffic. A traffic cop looked with
suspicion upon the weaving taxi. A truck driver, looking down
from the high seat of his cab, almost had a heart attack.

He slowed, determined to climax before he had reached the combat
zone.

Just as he turned onto Slum Street, he shot his wad, coming with
an abundance, the creamy spurts lacing into her throat one after
the other. Jessica gulped the jism down, enjoying it as usual..
.but finding that cum-drinking was making her horny all over
again.

He drew up in front of the tenement and Jessica tucked his
now-limp cock back in his pants, wiped her lips, and got out of
the cab.

He drove off and managed to go almost a whole block before three
pimply young men in black leather jackets blocked his route,
hauled him out of the cab, and assaulted him with rumble chains.

They never did understand why the driver had such a dreamy smile
on his face as they beat him . . .

CHAPTER TEN

Jessica stood on that sordid street, looking at the dismal
tenement in which Wally Gator resided. She wrinkled her nose in
distaste. But she was not worried. In fact, she even looked
around on the odd chance that a handful of rapists might be
lurking in the neighborhood, for she had become so excited while
blowing the taxi driver that she was just in the mood to get
raped a few times.

But there was nary a rapist in sight.

Isn't that always the way, she thought. When a girl is looking
for a rapist, she can never find one.. .rapists are worse than
cops, that way . . .

Well, maybe Wally Gator would prove to be a horny sort of
criminal, she thought, cheerfully.. .maybe he, like Vic Santo and
Miriam Honeybun, would have to be persuaded to reveal the
whereabouts of the car.

She went up the crumbling concrete steps, down a dingy hallway
that smelled like piss, and up a flight of stairs that threatened
to collapse.

On the way she concocted a new cover story.

Wally Gator and his henchman, Karl Peckham, were sitting in
Gator's one-room apartment, which originally had been an attic or
maybe just a storage loft. The walls slanted to a peak, being no
more than the underside of the roof. Light from a single small
window came in faintly, and not too far, as if light could only
enter such a room with trepidation. A candle in a wine bottle
provided another circle of illumination. The candle was melted
into a shapeless mass and the wine bottle had once contained
Thunderbird. It sputtered like a fizzling bomb on the round
wooden table at which the two criminals sat, adding to the
impression that they were anarchists planning some dastardly
assassination in a Balkan garret.

They were, in fact, planning a crime. But, devoid of much
imagination, they were having some trouble deciding what crime
they should plan.

Wally Gator was a big, brawny fellow, wearing a filthy
undershirt, his suspenders lowered from his shoulders and hanging
down in loops beside his chair. He might have been a good-looking
man, had he been washed and shaved. It was hard to tell under the
dirt and stubble.

Karl Peckham was a small, slender youth who somewhat favored a
weasel both in features and sinuous torso. He had a wispy blonde
mustache and pale blue eyes that watered a lot. His mouth was
slack and mobile, twisting into grins, grimaces and sneers
without any reason. He wore a baseball cap and a T-shirt. The cap
was sporting the logo of the Yankees; the T-shirt was printed
with the words, Disco Sucks. Quick and nervous, the youth twisted
about in his weasel-like fashion, as if his torso were squirming
about inside his clothing.

Wally was forty years old, of which seventeen had been spent
behind bars.

Karl was a callow youth who had only been in jail twice, once for
vandalism and once for pissing in gas tanks. He idolized his
older friend. He hoped that he would grow up to be just like
Wally, big and brawny and strong and tough, with plenty of jail
time behind him. He jerked off a lot, too.

He was in love with Wally's inflatable doll.

The two hoodlums hunched over the table, scowling with the effort
it took to think, and the inflatable doll, a blonde named Erma,
reclined on the bed, patiently waiting.

Wally had stolen Erma from a sex shop, slipping her-in a deflated
condition-down the front of his pants. That had been a week ago
and the honeymoon was not yet over. But Wally was not the jealous
sort and he allowed Karl to blow Erma up for him. Karl admired
big Wally for such liberal and permissive attitudes towards his
rubber bride.

Erma was quite spectacular.

No flesh and blood girl could have had such perfect proportions,
such pliable compliance with whatever position a man chose to
fuck, such patience with temporary impotency and, best of all,
she never nagged. You never had to buy her a drink or feed her
anything but cock. Deflated, she rode free on public transport.
She never had a headache and never had the curse. She had three
available openings and her rubber fingers could be folded around
a prick. One of her big nipples did double duty as the valve by
which she was inflated.

Karl hoped that, someday, he would get to seduce Erma, either
secretively when Wally was out, or by permission, once Wally
tired of plastic pussy.

Although he was trying to think of commit-table crimes, Karl kept
glancing at Erma.

He had a big hard-on.

"Damn it, there must be some joint we can rob!" Wally snorted in
exasperation.

"How about we rob the Home for Battered Wives?"

"Naw, they got no money. That's why they get battered. That's the
main reason why a husband beats his wife up, you know.. .because
they got no money."

"I didn't know that. I thought they beat them up because they
were fucking around."

"Yeah, but fucking around without money."

Karl nodded. He thought: Gosh, that Wally sure knows a lot of
stuff.

He said, "How about a supermarket?"

"That's kid stuff," Wally snorted. "What if we get caught? Huh?
You imagine going to jail? They got murderers there, they got
kidnappers, they got rapists. They ask you what you did to get in
jail and you got to tell them that you failed to rob a fucking
supermarket?

Shit."

"Yeah, I never thought of that."

"That's your main trouble, Karl. You don't think."

Karl pouted.

His mouth, which worked without known cause, smiled, but he was
pouting, nevertheless.

He said, "Well, it's hard to think with a hard-on."

Wally looked disgusted. "You got another fucking boner?"

"Yeah. A big bastard, too. The thing is, when I got a hard-on,
all my blood rushes into my prick and my brain can't work so
good."

"You better whack off," Wally suggested.

"Naw, that's kid stuff. That's worse than robbing supermarkets,
if you ask me. If only.. . " Karl slid his gaze towards Erma. He
was truly lusting for that latex lass. "If only I had me a girl
like her," he said.

Wally glared at him.

"Well, jeez! How do you think I feel? I hear you humping away on
her and I got nobody!"

"Ugly as you are, how do you expect to get a girl?"

"Well, gee . . .  it ain't as if you sweet talked Erma into bed,
you know! You stole her. You didn't seduce her, you just slipped
her down your pants."

"Watch your mouth!" Wally cautioned.

"If I had a girl-even a real girl-I'd share her with you," said
Karl, petulantly. "You might at least let Erma give me a
hand-job, huh?"

"Oh, hell!" Wally snorted. "Christ, I guess I'll have to let you
fuck her, just so you can get some blood back to your brain."

Karl's eyes got big.

His cock, already big, got bigger.

"You mean it?" he gasped.

"Yeah. But I got to watch. I got to make sure you don't try no
rough stuff on her, you know? I mean, if she was real, it would
be okay. A few bruises, a broken bone or two, they heal up. But
if you put a hole in a rubber girl, she's finished for good. You
got to treat 'em right."

"I'll be gentle," Karl promised.

Wally was thinking that it might be sort of exciting, in a
perverted way, to watch the callow youth fuck his rubber bride.
It might make him nice and horny.

"Well, go ahead," he snarled.

Karl jumped up. He staggered. His hard-on was so massive that it
dragged him off balance. He had to grab the edge of the table to
keep from falling. Then he threw his head and shoulders back to
counterweight the looming bulk of his prick and turned towards
the latex lovely.

'Thanks, Wally," he said.

He moved to the bed and sat down beside her.

He began kissing her.

That's disgusting, Wally thought. Fucking is one thing, but
getting all lovey-dovey with a doll is ridiculous. Especially
since I came in her mouth this morning.

But it was making him horny, as he'd figured it would, and he
dragged his dong out under the table.

Karl was feeling her up.

She seemed to have lost a bit of air during the day and he
lowered his mouth to her big nipple-valve and began to blow her
up nice and taut.

He finger-fucked her pliable cunt.

Wally began to pound his pork.

Karl figured he had used enough foreplay now, and he mounted
Erma. He hauled her legs tip, wrapping them around his scrawny
haunches. He arched her back. Then, grinning like a fiend, he
whacked his cock into the rubber lady.

She had a tight pussy, he thought, with delight. That was one of
the benefits of having a plastic girlfriend. If you blew on a
real girl's tits, her cunt got all sloppy, but when you blew air
into Erma, her cunt got tighter.

He began to hump the doll with gusto.

His skinny ass bounced, rebounding off her belly as if he were
fucking on a trampoline. Her rubber parts made soft, squishy
noises as he pounded the pork to her.

Wally pumped his prick in tempo, feeling all the erotic
stimulation that jealousy summons as he watched another man fuck
his girl.

And that was the bizarre scene that greeted her amazed eyes when
Jessica walked in . . .

She had knocked on the door.

But the door had no lock and fit the jamb only loosely. Her knock
swung it open with a creak. She took one step into the room and
stopped dead, gaping at such an un-likely situation. She saw a
callow youth fucking a rubber doll on the bed and a brawny man
jacking off at the table, the whole scene illuminated
romantically by candlelight.

"Oh, excuse me," she said.

Wally looked up at her, his hand slowly stroking.

Karl stopped humping and looked back over his shoulder. He gave a
little gasp. The blonde at the door was even sexier than Erma-and
she was real!

"Maybe I better come back later.. .when you fellows aren't so
busy.. . " she said.

"Naw, c'mon in," Wally said.

Jessica hesitated for a moment. Then, smiling faintly, she
stepped in and closed the door behind her.

"You from welfare or something?"

"No . . . "

Wally squinted, suspiciously. If she wasn't from welfare, what
the fuck was a girl like that doing there?

She said, "I'm looking for Wally Gator."

"That's me. That's my friend, Karl, there. And that's my girl
he's fucking, her name's Erma."

"How do you do, Wally. Karl. Errr.. .Erma."

"What you want with me?" Wally blurted.

Jessica was so dumbfounded by the scene that she had forgotten
her cover story. She had to think for a moment. Then she
remembered it.

She said, "I hear that you have a red Chevrolet?"-'That's right."

"Well, to come straight to the point.. .I'm kinky for red
Chevrolets."

Wally squinted. His fist had stopped stroking.

"That's the only way I can get my rocks off," Jessica explained.
"Doing it in a red Chevy." She thought for a moment. "Or at least
doing it with a man who owns a red Chevy," she added, looking
boldly at Wally.

"How come is that?" he asked, still suspicious, still figuring
she was there to give him food stamps.

Jessica hadn't expected that she would have to give any reasons
for her quirk, but she was thinking well now and she said, "It's
because of a trauma of my childhood. When I was twelve, my father
had a red Chevy and one day he took me out in it and made me suck
him off."

She figured that would shock Wally.

But he said, "Oh. That explains it, then. I never had a daughter,
myself, but if I did, I'd do the same thing, so I can see that's
logical."

"Errr . . .  if Erma is your girl, how come that kid is doing
that to her?"

"He can't get a girl of his own."

"You're very generous, Wally."

Her eyes drifted down.

"And you have a big prick, as well," she added. "A red Chevrolet
and a big cock.. .ooooh, how wonderful . . . "

"Let me get this straight . . . " Wally said.

Jessica giggled saucily.

"It's already straight," she said. "Nice and big and stiff, and
the best way to get it straight is to get it straight up my hot
cunt . . . "

Wally figured that the blonde was serious. He had heard about
things like this, nymphomaniacs and such, but he had never found
himself in such a position. Still, he was no man to look a gift
horse in the mouth. Even if she was lying, the worst he would get
out of it was some food stamps. Maybe she really was kinky for
red Chevrolets. He grinned, pushed back from the table, and stood
up with his cock sticking out like a spear in front of his belly.

Jessica moved towards him.

Well, I'll be damned, thought Wally.

She was really serious.

There was only the one bed in the room, but none of the three
humans nor the doll were modest about sex. Wally led Jessica to
the bed and she lay down beside Erma. He sat beside her and began
to undress her while she squirmed around in happy anticipation.
He took her blouse off and began to fondle her big tits.

Karl, still stuck up Erma but not moving now, watched this
activity with interest.

He reached in at great risk and had a nice feel of real tit,
himself.

Wally said, "You mind if he does that?"

'Why, no," said Jessica. "The more the merrier. Even callow cock
is better than nothing."

Wally realized that this was not the sort of girl from whom one
demanded fidelity,' and that to her the only infidelity would be
fucking the owner of a Ford.

Allowing Karl to play with her tits, he moved down and unfastened
her skirt. He dragged it down her legs, then pulled her wet
panties down.

Her legs opened wide. Her cunt was juicy and her clit was so
stiff that it looked like a valve by which her lovely body might
be inflated. He began pushing his thick middle finger up her
slot. Karl reached down and added his own finger. Both men
finger-fucked her in counterpoint, one going in as the other
pulled out, until the blonde started to squeal with pleasure.

She reached down and wrapped her hand around Wally's big, thick
root, frigging him slowly.

Her other hand crossed over. Finding Karl's cock buried up Erma's
plastic pussy, she cupped his balls.-

Wally could see that, like Erma, Jessica required a minimal
amount of foreplay.

He ducked down and took her clit in his lips and blew on it, just
once, to make sure that she was inflated enough to have a taut
cunt-an act committed from habit more than logic and then he
knelt between her legs.

Her hand was still folded around his prick. She guided the
smoking head to her cunt.

Wally whacked the full wad up her twat with the first vigorous
lunge, paused for an instant, and then began fucking her with
long, rippling strokes.

Jessica gave a happy gasp and wrapped her long legs around his
flanks in imitation of Erma's position. She began to pump against
him as he poured the pork to her. He was bouncing up and down and
she was grinding under his thrusts. Beside them, inspired, Karl
began fucking Erma faster. Side by side on the bed, real woman
and rubber, the two took cock.

Karl's callow cock slithered up the latex slot.

Wally's fat prick hissed into Jessica's slippery gash.

Jessica whimpered and Erma wheezed.

The scent of hot rubber blended with the scent of hot cunt as the
remarkable foursome fucked together. Everyone-except, presumably,
Erma-was ready to come with dispatch. Jessica was hot from
sucking off the cab driver. Karl had already been fucking Erma,
and, besides, had had a hard-on all day. Wally, that rare voyeur,
was horny from watching his friend fuck his latex lass. They
lunged and humped and writhed; they whimpered and moaned and
panted.

Karl blew his load first.

Jessica was still holding his balls. She felt the hairy bag burst
as he shot his wad up

Erma's twat. She squealed with the vicarious thrill. She could
actually hear his thick, jism splashing into the rubber
container.

Her pussy melted as she came.

Feeling that hot quim dissolve around his thundering prick, Wally
roared like a frenzied beast and blasted a lump of solid spunk
into Jessica's creaming pussy.

The movements slowed.

A faint hissing could be heard and Wally feared that Erma had
sprung a leak-but he was too preoccupied to worry about
vulcanization at the moment. His cock, although discharged, was
still fat and hard up Jessica's snatch.

He started to hump again.

But Jessica gave him a naughty look.

"Why don't we switch?" she asked.

Wally wasn't too keen on the idea of giving up flesh and blood
twat in favor of rubber especially since he'd already fucked Erma
plenty-but Karl began to nod in vigorous agreement. What the
hell, thought Wally-an orgy is an orgy and a guy can't be
particular in a cluster fuck.

They switched . . .

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wally fucked Erma while randy young Karl threw a dynamite fuck
into Jessica. Although Erma was not equipped with cunt-juice,
Jessica was coming enough for both of them, and by this time the
whole bed was awash with cunt-juice and jism.

Jessica was feeling very naughty.

When Wally blew his load and pulled out of Erma, Jessica squirmed
down, and, fitting her face between those plastic thighs, she
proceeded to eat Erma out, sucking the combined jism of both men
out of the creamy slot. Plastic pussy was not nearly as
satisfying as the real thing, she thought, but she knew that it
excited the men to watch her do it. And besides, there was plenty
of delicious cum up that box.

It excited Wally so much, in fact, that with two orgasms already
spent, his prick was as big as ever.

He said, "One good thing about a rubber woman is, they never mind
if you put it in their mouths . . . "

He looked questioningly at Jessica.

Raising her drooling jowls from between Erma's thighs, Jessica
said, "Real women never mind, either . . . "

Wally slipped his prick into Jessica's mouth. She began sucking
on it happily while Karl continued to pound his pecker into her
cunt. Jessica was in seventh heaven then, getting cock at both
ends, her tongue as hot as her clit, hungry for cream at crotch
and mouth at the same time.

She gulped Wally's thick spunk down as Karl blew his frenzied
load up her twat and wondered, vaguely, if the two streams would
crash together like tidal waves somewhere midway through her
torso. Her cunt slurped up spunk and she drank it down as her own
love-juices poured out in a deluge.

They were all so inspired that coming, instead of bringing
relief, only made them want to come again.

It was addictive.

Wally said, "Another thing about a rubber woman.. .they let you
fuck them up the ass.. .M

Whereupon horny Jessica turned over.

Straddling Karl, she pushed her cunt down onto his rampant prick.

Wally knelt behind her and fitted his bloated cock-head to her
taut brown asshole. He pushed steadily. Her asshole resisted for
a moment, then made the adjustment.

His fat knob slipped in.

Her hole clamped snug around the stalk, gripping him behind the
cock-head, and her asshole worked like a suction tube, dragging
him into her bowels as if digesting him in reverse. He rammed the
whole huge wad into her ass.

They fucked her between them.

Jessica rode up and down on Karl's cock as he thrust up from the
bed, and Wally banged his. prick up her asshole each time she
descended on the other man's dong. Both men could feel the
other's cock moving inside her, the two tools separated only by
the slender partition between her cunt and her asshole-and
Jessica, to her joy, could feel both of those big cocks churning
her loins to cream together.

They came together, too, and the willowy blonde felt as if her
pelvis was being blown apart on the double dosage-and she came
with them, wailing with ecstasy.

But all things must come to an end.

At last they were all drained and satisfied.

Erma was going a bit soft, her big tits sagging, but they paid
her no mind-for such is the fickle nature of mankind.

Naked, the three real people sat around the wooden table.

Wally and Karl were once again discussing places that they might
manage to rob. They were not inhibited by Jessica's presence for
she had become one of them, sort of-and even if it turned out
that she was really from welfare, they knew that a welfare worker
preferred a man to earn money on his own. A bandit was more
sociably acceptable than a welfare recipient.

Jessica was trying to figure out how she could get into the car
and look for the lottery ticket.

She said, "Why don't we take a ride, fellas? Maybe some fresh air
will clear your minds."

"Got no gas," said Wally. "I'll buy the gas."

"What, you think I'd take money from a girl? That's worse than
charity."

"Worse than food stamps," Karl put in.

"Unless you want to be our gun moll," Wally said. "Then you can
buy gas for the getaway."

"But we got to decide where we got to get away from, first," Karl
explained.

Jessica saw that this was the ideal solution-waiting in the car
while they robbed some place, she would have plenty of time to
look for the ticket.

But, like them, she could think of no place to rob.

And then she had a truly brilliant idea.

"Why don't you rob the Canadian lottery?" she suggested. She
figured that would give her plenty of time in the car, and, if
she found the ticket, she'd be able to cash it on the spot,
saving the necessity to make another trip to the frozen land to
the north.

"They got lots of money?"

"Millions."

"Yeah? Real money or Canadian?"

"Well, it's Canadian . . . "

"That ain't no good."

"But you can change it for real money. And after we make our
getaway, we can slip back into the States so that we won't get
caught. We'll be safe and rich."

"How about them Mounties?" Karl asked.

"Aw, they wear red coats. You can see them coming from a mile
away."

"But they always get their man . . . "

"Sure, but they never get a callow youth or a woman. So only
Wally has to worry and.. .brave as he is.. . "

She had said just the right thing.

Wally glowed with pride.

"We'll do it!" he cried. "We'll rob the fucking Canadian
lottery!"

* * *
It was quite a trip.

Jessica supplied the money for gas and Karl went to fetch the
car. Wally said goodbye to what was left of Erma. They were all
enthused by the scheme and the two men were mighty glad to have
such a clever gun moll join their gang.

Karl drove up the New York State thruway while Wally fucked
Jessica in the back seat.

Then Wally drove up the Northway while Jessica sucked Karl off in
the passenger seat.

At the border, the Canadian customs inspector wanted to look in
the truck of the car, but Jessica let him look in her cunt,
instead. He let them pass unhindered.

Jessica gave Karl a hand-job-her mouth and cunt were pretty tired
by this time-while Wally drove west along the northern shore of
Lake Ontario. Stopping for coffee in Kingston, they had a
threesome in the park. It was lots of fun, being a gun moll,
thought Jessica.

But she had not had a chance to look in the pocket on the
driver's side door.

She had to bide her time.

And then they arrived at the lottery office in Toronto-and it was
time for business.

Wally was the mastermind.

"You two wait in the car," he said. "I'll go in and rob the
fuckers myself."

"You ain't got a gun, Wally," Karl said.

"Yeah, well guns are old-fashioned. What you got to do, these
days, you pass them a note that says you got a bomb, see? Then
they hand the money over."

"But you ain't got a note, either."

"Well, I can write one."

"If you had a pencil, you could."

"I have a pencil," Jessica said, clever gun moll that she had
become.

"And some paper."

"Here's a scrap of paper," Wally said, rummaging about amidst
Kleenex and gas receipts in the side pocket.

He took the pencil and wetted it on his tongue. He scowled
thoughtfully as he tried to compose a note that struck just the
proper chord. Then he grinned.

He wrote: Give me all the money or else.

"That," he said, "ought to do the job."

Fearless, armed with his courage and his threatening note, Wally
marched into the lottery office.

Jessica didn't think he had a chance.

She figured that Wally was sure to get arrested and she felt a
bit sorry for him, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Maybe she could bail him out . . .  if she found the ticket. Karl
was sitting behind the wheel, the motor running. She had to get
across him somehow.

Well, there was an easy excuse for that. Smiling sweetly at the
youth, Jessica said, "It makes me excited, being on a robbery."

"Yeah, me too."

"Horny, too."

He gazed at her in awe, amazed at the girl's capacity for sex.

He said, "Gee, I can't fuck you now . . .  I got to be alert and
ready to drive."

"Ummmm . . .  but I could just sort of go down on you while we
wait, huh?"

Karl saw no harm in that.

And he liked the idea of having sex with her behind Wally's back.
It made him feel daring and devilish and seductive-it was almost
as good as cuckolding him. "Okay," he said.

Jessica drew her knees up on the passenger seat and leaned over
his lap. His fly was zipped up for a change, but she soon
rectified that.

She pulled his prick out.

It was only semi-hard but that didn't matter. The cock-sucking
was only an excuse, anyhow, and if he didn't get hard or get his
rocks off, it didn't matter.

She frigged him a few times.

Sure enough, with the potency of pubescence, the lad's cock began
to swell and harden.

She licked the fiery tip.

The head flared and the stalk began to pulse and throb in her
stroking fist.

She slipped her lips over the head and sucked. She liked to take
a soft dick into her mouth and feel it swell as she sucked it up
to a full erection. And, horny nymph that she was, Jessica forgot
all about looking for the lottery ticket for a few minutes as she
sucked hungrily on the tasty slab.

Karl was gazing out the window, keeping an eye on the door into
which Wally had vanished. He had both hands on the wheel. But
then he dropped one hand onto the back of her head and began to
push gently.

Jessica began to bob her head up and down, taking his hot cock
far back into her mouth.

Her lips peeled back as she drew her mouth up the fat rod, and
her tongue flashed against the underside. Her head went up and
down steadily and her hand rose to meet it, frigging him into her
mouth.

"I hope I can come before Wally gets back," Karl croaked,
hunching up from the seat and fucking into her face.

That reminded Jessica of her true purpose in giving him this
blow-job.

With her free hand, she began to feel around in the side pocket
of the door.

"What you looking for?" he asked.

"Umphfff," she said, trying to speak with a mouthful of cock-a
condition that had become so commonplace recently that she hardly
noticed it.

She pulled her lips up to the tip fo his prick so that she could
articulate.

"I'm just looking for a tissue to wipe up your cum so that Wally
doesn't notice it and suspect that we've been cheating on him,"
she explained.

"I thought you always swallowed it," he said.

"Well, sure.. .but just in case a few drops get away." He saw
that she was truly a far sighted gun moll.. .and a girl who would
not easily be caught in infidelity.

He tried to concentrate, wanting to give her plenty of cum to mop
up.

She began slurping on his knob again as her hand slid around in
the flap pocket. She brought out crumpled gas receipts and a
whole lot of cum-stiffened tissues.

But she did not find the lottery ticket.

Karl, taking note of those dozens of Kleenex hardened by
congealed cum, figured that plenty of cock-sucking had taken
place in this car. It must have had quite a history, to which he
hoped soon to add his own fluid incident.

Damn! thought Jessica.

The pocket was empty now and the ticket was not there and she was
so unhappy that, for a moment, she forgot to move her head up and
down-although she kept sucking instinctively, nursing on his knob
like a nipple.

Karl pushed down on the back of her head; giving her a gentle
reminder.

Well, she thought, I don't have my lottery ticket so I might as
well drink a load of jism while I'm here. And, just as some
people might have consoled themselves with whisky, Jessica began
to drink.

Karl's cock-head was oozing spunk. She sucked it off and
swallowed the thin flow and pumped for more. She was sad about
losing her fortune, but the taste of Karl's prick soon cheered
her up again.

His legs began to tense and relax.

His heels drummed on the floorboards. Revving the engine, he
drummed on the gas pedal, also.

His fist knotted on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning
white. His other hand rested on her head, which was going up and
down furiously now.

"Ahhhh.. .take it!" he howled.

Jessica pushed her mouth down to the root of his cock and his
creamy load spurted down her throat: Gasping and gulping, she
swallowed it down and sucked furiously for more, pulling the jism
out of him and draining his cock and balls to the very dregs as
she skillfully milked him off.

She drank it all.

She needn't have worried, thought happy Karl.

There wasn't a single drop to be mopped up.

* * *

Darleen Johnson was bored.

She worked at the counter in the lottery office, standing behind
a teller's cage. Not a single customer had come in all day,
either to pay a ticket nor to claim a win. Sometimes it wasn't a
bad job,.especially when you were able to make a pay out to some
handsome guy who might even ask what time you got off work, maybe
take you out to dinner, and, if you were really lucky, give you
plenty of prick. But on slow days like this one it ws a real
drag. She was bored mindless and her feet hurt from standing up
all day.

Her pussy was a bit warm, as well.-

She had a plump cunt. She shifted her weight from foot to foot.
Her thighs rubbed against her crotch in a stimulating fashion.

Darleen thought that she would go straight home after work and
give herself a nice, leisurely hand-job.

Or she might stop in at a singles bar and find some guy to fuck
her, but the trouble with that was, when she went looking for
cock while she was horny she was too impatient and always took
the first cock available-usually winding up with some real
turkey.

Then she had a better idea.

She decided to give herself a hand-job at work so that, without
being too desperate, she could pick and choose from the guys at
the bar.

The counter came up above her waist and there was no one else
behind it, so she had no qualms about lifting her skirt and
pushing her panties down and rubbing her cunt. Her cunt began to
seethe and throb. She pushed a couple of fingers up the slot and
began finger-fucking herself, enjoying it enormously.

Then a seedy looking lout walked in.

Darleen had no interest in the fellow, who looked disreputable
and furtive. She continued to massage her pussy under the counter
as he looked around the room, then marched up to the cage, his
big jaw set in determination.

Glaring at her, he pushed a lottery ticket across.

"Wait a moment, please," she said. "I'm busy." He squinted.

"What you mean, busy? You ain't doing nothing."

Darleen had little respect for louts.

"I happen to be masturbating," she said.

"Oh, excuse me," said Wally Gator, who know all about such
things, and he waited patiently. It was sort of exciting to be
finger-fucking herself while he was standing right there.
Inspired, Darleen creamed quite soon, shuddering and moaning with
the thrill.

"Oh, that's ever so much better," she said.

She daintily wiped her cunt with her handkerchief and drew her
panties back up. Then she looked at the lottery ticket. It was
upside down and he had scribbled something on the back. Ignoring
that, she turned it over.

"You got it the wrong way up, you dumb bitch," he snarled. He'd
been willing to wait patiently while she jerked off, but had no
patience with inefficiency.

But she was checking the number and her eyebrows went up. She
even smiled at him, to his amazement.

"Why, you lucky man," she said. "Handsome, too," she added, with
new-found respect.

"Never mind that. Just give me the money."

"I'll write a check," she said.

"That's no good; I want the cash."

She went to the safe and got the money. He watched to make sure
she didn't press an alarm. When she actually handed the big stack
of bills across to him, he was amazed.

He really knew how to write a threatening note, no doubt about
that, he thought.

Darken wondered why the lucky winner ran out so fast . . .

* * *

Karl threw the car in gear and the getaway began.

They were whooping with the joy of a successful job.

Wally let Jessica count the money, because she had been so clever
in selecting a place to rob.

"Isn't that a strange coincidence," she mumbled when she had
finished.

"What's that?"

"Oh.. .nothing.. . . "

But it was certainly strange that the robbery should have netted
exactly the same amount that her lost lottery ticket would have
won.. . !

The End

SA@>nBW&!l@zshfdjRMY

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