Stolen Innocence
(M+/F, whore, size, anal, cons)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com

When a child of eleven, Erin Bann was perfectly content to live on the farm in Iowa where she had been born and raised. Her father, a burly, blond, third generation American of Scandinavian descent, grew mostly corn and pigs, but Johnny, her 15-year old brother, who wanted to stay on the land, was interested in raising cattle. He already had a young milk cow which he had raised from a calf and was thinking of breeding her with a neighbor's bull.

One morning early that autumn, as the pumpkins were glowing yellow and plump on the vines, and her mother's kitchen was permeated with the heady smell of spices and pickling, and the fresh tart odor of baked apple pies was floating through the window to where she was sitting on the back porch with Pal, their thick coated German Shepherd dog, she heard her father and Johnny talking in the kitchen about his cow.

"Jersey seems to be in heat now, Johnny," her father said. "If you still want to breed her, now's the time to do it. I've talked with Chris about it and he says to bring her over anytime. He's got a fine bull and it should be a dandy calf."

"Gee, Dad, that's swell. When can we do it?"

"Tomorrow's okay with Chris. But remember, the entire responsibility of bringing this calf up is yours. No saying you're tired of taking care of it and Jersey after it's here."

"Gosh, Dad, you know I won't do that. I'm all set to grow her up and win me a couple of prizes at the fair."

"Okay, boy, we'll go over tomorrow after lunch, then."

Erin slipped off the porch so her parents wouldn't know she had heard and walked down to the barn to look at Jersey. She had noticed that previously she had not only been kept away from the pens and barns at breeding times, but that any discussion concerning them between her parents, or between her father and other farmers, had always ceased when she approached. Thus, the only things she associated with the word "breeding" were the sound of the bull's bellowing cries echoing over the green hills and a feeling that it must be something "not nice."

But lately she had been disturbed by vague warm sensations in her own body, centered deep in her belly, which had made her restless and irritable, and she had begun to speculate about her own sex organs as well as those of animals. She resolved she would sneak over to Chris's farm tomorrow and see what happened that was so forbidden.

The next day was a golden autumn day with the smell of an early winter in the air. From a deep blue sky the sun turned the leaves to a shimmering fire of reds and golds. Along the road the sumac was glowing purples and deep reds, and by the farmhouse the late blooming flowers were showing their last blossoms.

After lunch, Johnny and his father went down to the barn to load Jersey into a truck to be taken over to the next farm.

"Erin," her mother said, "you're as restless as a cat. You don't have to help me with the dishes. Go out and play but stay close to the house. And put a sweater on."

She ran up to her bedroom to get her sweater, clattered back down the stairs and out the door, her pigtails flying. She went down to the barn where the men were about to leave.

"Put Pal back in the house, Erin," her father said. "We don't want him following along and disturbing the cattle."

She didn't ask to go along with them as she knew her father would refuse. Instead, she obediently took Pal back to the house and then headed for the wood, on the other side of which lay Chris's farm. Once out of sight of the house, she broke into a run. She was afraid of missing whatever was going to happen. When she came to the other edge of the wood, she hid behind a bush and peeked through the leaves. No one was in sight. Directly in front of her was the back of their neighbor's barn. Beyond it she could hear the sound of men's voices and from time to time the bellowing of the bull. She quickly climbed through a wire fence, ran across to the barn and slipped through a rear door. Inside, the barn was dimly lit with shafts of sunlight lancing through crevices in the roof and filtering through a haze of hay dust lazily turning in the still air. It was warm and close with the smell of cattle, now out to pasture, and the acrid scent of manure. A few chickens stirred restlessly and ruffled their feathers as they perched on the railings of the stalls. She looked around and not seeing anyone, moved silently to the other side, beyond which lay a small corral. She could hear the voices more clearly, as well as unidentifiable rustlings and scrapings and the restless, heavy tread of the bull.

"He's sure as hell rarin' to go," someone said. "He's hotter'n a firecracker."

A loud urgent bellow cut off the voice.

"Okay, Johnny," said a voice which she recognized as belonging to Chris, "you can bring your cow in soon. Just wait a minute until he's moved to the other side of the corral away from the gate."

Entering an empty stall, Erin lay down on a pile of hay. It pricked and ticked her body through the clothes she was wearing and the hay dust made her afraid she would sneeze. She pressed her eyes against a small crack between the wooden slabs and looked into the corral beyond.

Three or four men were standing on the other side of the corral fence, their tight blue jeans showing every muscle and curve of their legs. To the right was her father. Johnny was looking anxiously at the bull and while saying something to his father, burst into a tense, embarrassed giggle which he tried to hide with a cough. Chris was standing near the gate, one hand on the latch. Everyone was looking inside the corral.

And there was the bull. Big, black and powerful. A dark boxcar of latent, dynamic energy. His muscles rippled under the shiny dark hair over his firm, bulky shoulders and haunches. He was standing near the fence, a square block of massive movement. Lowering his head, he sniffed through the fence, his lips curled back, his nostrils flared, his shoulders hunched. He could smell the cow in heat, although she was not yet in sight. The scent made him all male, urgent and demanding. He was in constant, restless movement, at times almost dancing with a heavy tread as he sidled along the fence, scraping it with his side. Saliva dripped from his lips. He swayed slowly from side to side, his tail raised at an angle. Beneath him his large, potent testicles were stretched tautly from the urge in his body. He snorted loudly again and then backed away, pawing the ground with one hoof as he raised his head. With his square, black face raised towards the luminescent sky he roared a mighty bellow which was insistent, commanding, almost an ultimatum.

When he had moved over to the other side of the corral, Chris quickly opened the gate and let the cow in. She stood quietly, switching her tail and looking at the bull. He turned towards her immediately, lowered his head and pawed the ground. Moving to her haunches he sniffed loudly and wetly at her rear. She lifted her tail and he began licking the opening beneath it. His rough tongue caressed her moistly as saliva drooled from his mouth and fell to the ground below.

Erin held her breath as she watched the animalistic ritual going on in the corral. Tiny dewdrops of moisture formed between her own legs without her fully understanding why and she closed them tightly together to try and snuff out the tiny ripples of sensation that were for the fast time in her life beginning to stir there.

The bull's heavy, thick pointed penis suddenly emerged from the thick sheath enclosing it. It was wet and glistened in the afternoon sun as its full prominence burst into view. He stopped to bellow triumphantly and the sound echoed over the surrounding hills proclaiming his stirred passion. His penis slipped out another eight inches and he tried to mount the wobbling cow, rearing up with a clumsy lunge, but she moved to the side and his forefeet crashed to the ground. Staggering slightly from the first failing effort, he tried again. He succeeded in straddling her with his front legs, his black, immense chest crushing down on her haunches. Her legs buckled slightly from his weight but he succeeded in entering her this time and Erin's watching eyes bulged wide as she watched the huge, pole-like instrument slither without resistance deep down into the belly of the straining cow. The bull gave an angry snort and began a sudden series of short, quick jerks with his hind legs and suddenly emitted a soulful moan from deep in his chest. The glistening red penis sunk deep inside the cow beneath him throbbed for an interminable moment and then he backed quickly away and gave an ear-splitting bellow that somehow seemed now less urgent to the gaping Erin as she crouched excitedly behind the crack in the barn wall. The cow staggered drunkenly around the corral, her head down in sudden fatigue, her back arched spasmodically.

"Okay, boys, that should do it," Chris laughed.

"Man, that was like a freight train going into a tunnel."

They all burst into laughter over the comparison.

Johnny entered the corral and led the cow out and over to the waiting truck.

Inside the barn on her pile of hay, Erin lay back tense and trembling. Her mouth was dry and the hay scratched her arms and legs more intensely now. She was too surprised and shocked at what she had seen to be able to move. She had never in all her young life imagined that such a thing was possible. Her stomach churned slightly and she felt strangely dizzy. Did humans do this too? Was this the reason for the same, but softer and more secret sounds she had often heard coming from her parents' bedroom late at night when they had thought she was asleep? It must have been, they were so much the same. Her whole body began to quiver uncontrollably at the lewd and obscene thought of her mother and father coupled together as the animals she had just seen through the secret crack of the barn.

Then, she was suddenly jerked back to reality as she heard Chris ask one of the men to go into the barn and bring back a halter for the bull. In desperation she crawled back over the hay and jumping to her feet, ran out the rear door. She silently scuttled through the fence and fell on the ground behind a bush and lay there for some time, panting and gasping, too afraid to move. Later, she made her way back to the farm just as her father and brother were returning to the house after unloading the cow in the corral. She could not look either of them in the face and silently began to help her mother prepare the evening meal. Her thoughts were strangely muddled and disturbing to her young and innocent mind.

A few days later Erin went on one of her beloved rambles over the countryside. She never grew tired of these explorations, searching through the woods for tiny, wild flowers, running and skipping over the lush, dark-green meadows, with Pal barking madly at her side, or weaving her way through the rustling lanes of corn. Her favorite spot was a small glen in a wood on the other side of the wheat field. Here she used to go to drowse away an afternoon or to construct a small lean-to of branches and "playhouse," or to sit quietly and hope a rabbit or squirrel would approach. Pal would sniff around the surrounding woods, barking loudly in surprise and excitement when he would startle a wild bird. Usually, however, he would lie on the soft gently waving grass, panting in the heat. It was an Indian summer day, almost as hot as it had been in July.

"Come on, Pal, let's go to the woods," Erin said playfully, as she slammed the screen door and Pal jumped up from the porch. "But no roaming today. It's too hot. We have to walk slowly like Grandma and Grandpa Holiday."

They followed a winding path around the barns and set off across a meadow, Erin's yellow braids swinging from side to side as she looked for hidden field mice in the grass, or knelt to pick up am autumn flower. The intense sun pressed sullen on her head. The sky was a vacant, wide tent of pale blue. The air was filled with the sweet, fecund smell of meadow grass and the small white and yellow flowers which dotted the field.

When they reached the glen, Erin plopped on the ground and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the hem of her skirt. Pal lay on the grass beside her panting heavily.

"Poor old Pal's so hot in his winter overcoat," she said soothingly, as she petted him. "It's just too hot today for clothes."

Erin pulled up her short skirt over the whiteness of her already developing thighs and sighing as the cool breeze washed over the flimsy silk of her brief panties, lay back on the cool grass and stroked his thick fur. She opened her legs wide to let the air cool between her perspiring thighs and looked contentedly up at the drifting puffs of summer clouds that moved lazily overhead. Pal rolled on his side next to her and turning her head at the feel of his movement against her hand she noticed that his penis was protruding slightly from its fur covered sheath. She remembered the black bull from the other day and tentatively touched its pink, moist end. As she curiously fingered it, the small glistening penis slowly emerged into the air until it was fully in sight. Pal growled deep in his throat and then jumped up, quivering. Feeling uncertain and a little afraid, she squirmed slightly away on her back and looked wide-eyed up at him not knowing what to do. It was a strange feeling, one that she had never known before with Pal. He had always leaped at her first command but now she was not so certain he would react the way he always had done before. There was an animalistic gleam in his eye that both frightened and confused her. It was as though she had lost complete control over him and would never regain it again. He suddenly had command of her and her childish mind froze, unable to move as he hovered over her spread-eagle form panting and jerking like the lust-enraged bull she had seen such a short time ago just before it attacked Jersey in Chris's corral.

He had moved between her widespread legs and was standing with tongue hanging out just above her.

She dared not move in her sudden fear.

His head dropped and she clenched her eyes tightly shut as she felt the coldness of his nose brush experimentally against the warm inside of her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath as he panted like the bull and the sudden wetness of his tongue as it snaked out of his mouth and began softly licking at the exposed flesh of her inner legs. She started to push him away, but the cool damp tongue suddenly felt fresh and alive on her hot skin. Instead, she lay back and let her arms fan loosely out on the grass as his tongue continued its strange and probing search up toward the whiteness of her panties. She tried to move again but was met by a whining growl that stilled her completely. There was nothing she could do now and felt her body begin a slow uncontrollable writhing against the grass beneath her as suddenly his long searching tongue reacted the top of her thighs and began a gently almost tender licking against the silk band of her panties that covered the warm, sweating slit of her young, untouched pussy. A slight groan escaped from her mouth which was dry now from the strange and unknown sensations flickering through her young and inexperienced body. Her tongue ran in small desperate and uncontrolled circles around the edges of her lips, the salty taste of the tiny drops of sweat forming there increasing the urgency of the feelings suddenly circling around deep inside her white, virginal belly. The sun burned white into the skin of her face and exposed legs and she could feel the roughness his tongue probing gently against the thin, protective veneer of her panties, pushing it wetly into the now open and palpitating lips of her small and untouched cunt. She giggled slightly and it tickled her but soon she felt a curious sensation flowing up into her loins and stomach, a feeling that was unfamiliar but strangely pleasurable and had its strength deep inside her belly. At first it frightened her, but then she gave herself slowly and uncertainly to its new and delicious delight and felt a sudden ravenous curiosity as to where it would lead and what it was all about.

Her hands moved without thought down over the beginning blooms of her tiny but sensitive breasts and making a wide, open-palmed sweep down over the whiteness of her nylon clad belly began a soft circular stroking around the insides of her thighs as the hot, licking tongue of the dog continued its desperate probing of the nylon band still covering the tiny, hair lined slit of her pussy. Her body began a slow wiggling and squirming down into the cool mat of grass beneath her and she slowly raised her knees until they were pointing directly up at the fleecy cloud floating lazily above, and then with the first moan of passion uttered in her young life, they limply fell outwards, exposing the whole of her nylon covered loins to the now more desperate flicking tongue of the dog. Her asscheeks and pelvis began a slow, yet hard rotation up at the teasing wet nose of the animal haunching down between her widespread legs and she could feel the long, moist, snake-like tongue trying without success to curl beneath the tight elastic legband of her flimsy panties and make contact with the soft smooth flesh beneath. Her fingers automatically moved inward and with the forefinger of her right hand she deftly and quickly pulled the soft nylon crotch band aside and groaned with a feeling she had never in her life thought possible as she felt the great wet mass of Pal's flicking tongue sink hungrily between the wet and throbbing lips of her young and now unprotected cunt. A low animal moan escaped from between her tightly clenched teeth and she grasped his furry ear with her other hand and pulled his nose tighter between her legs, grunting and twisting beneath him on the grass as though she had suddenly lost her mind. At the same time, mewling whines of insatiate hunger rolled from the panting mouth of the wildly licking dog and he thrust the tip of his tongue deep between her widespread legs until the thin ring of her youthful virginity would allow it to sink no deeper inside her. Saliva drooled from his mouth in wild sucking torrents, wetting the whole of her madly rotating pelvis and loins as she wiggled and squirmed in wild and uncontrolled abandon beneath the lapping dog. Feeling the hot delight rising like fire in the depths of her quivering belly, she ground her crotch desperately around and around, savoring with untamed delight the newfound sensations rippling in never ending waves through her young, virginal body.

"Lick me, Pal! Lick me," she chanted ceaselessly through her passion-contorted lips as her asscheeks twisted and smacked with wild uncontrolled abandon down into the soft mat of grass beneath her. She did not know what the outcome would be, but she instinctively felt through her lust-dimmed mind that there was an end, some end, and that this was the way to it. Her hand dropped from his ear and she pressed it to the other side of the split of her cunt, pulling the tight, tiny lips as far apart as she could get them until she almost felt herself screaming from the pain that she felt as though she were splitting her own self apart there between her legs. His tongue lapped deeper, a hard painful pressure against her virginity so that she squirmed up with a hopeless desperation, knowing that on the other side of that thin unyielding membrane inside her lay a happiness and sensation that was beyond imagination and she bucked and twisted with all her strength, praying his tongue would break through and satiate this wild need goading her back on and on into wilder and wilder gyrations.

And then - as quickly as the feeling had begun, it burst!

She cried out into the hot summer air and then suddenly all her muscles relaxed, her legs jerking in one last spasmodic quiver out to the sides of the still licking dog's body. She continued to rotate her pelvis up against the wetness of his tongue, but more softly and slowly now, as the burning fire quickly ebbed.

She breathed out deeply and reaching up with both hands, firmly pushed his panting head away from her still widespread loins. He backed begrudgingly away, a protesting whine singing from his throat and she lay drained of all strength panting and perspiring on her back.

She still did not understand exactly what had happened. But it had happened and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever known. It would come again now, and often, she had tasted it and there would he no escape when it occurred again - no matter what the circumstances.

As the months and years passed, she found many new ways of fulfilling the ache which periodically filled her groin and crept down her legs and through her body. Instead of Pal, she used books, the arm of an overstuffed chair, the edge of her bed, or a pillow stuffed between her legs as she lay face down on her bed in the quiet of the night. The small, rosy bud mounted high between the lips of her sex became more and more the center of her attentions. With one or two of her fingers she would rub its fleshy swelling, gently and rhythmically, or smoke the soft length of the path leading up to it, terminating her stroke against it until the familiar rising flood of pleasure would swell up sharply and spill over. Or she would use her whole hand to apply moving and steady pressure over these warm responsive areas. And sometimes she tugged at her sex with her hand, finding that the pull on her muscles stimulated the pink bud to which they were connected.

By the time she was fifteen Erin was strongly desirous of a full sexual experience. But the farming community in which she lived was so small and closely knit she was afraid of the possible consequences of being discovered, punished severely by her parents and talked about by all the gossips, her reputation ruined and her parents ashamed. Then, too, she still felt lagging remnants of guilt about her own masturbation and was uneasily reluctant to take the next step. True, she had been kissed, and deeply, by many of her boy friends, had allowed a few of them to handle her young, swelling breasts, and permitted one to finger her sex with his rough, chapped hand, making her sex juices flow and her desire mount almost unbearably, but she had gone no further.

That June, when the winter-bare, plowed fields were covered with emerald green stalks of corn, rapidly inching their way upward to be knee-high by the Fourth of July, a square dance was held to celebrate the end of the school year. Johnny, as well as Paul Dawson and another friend named Mike, were home from the state agricultural school. Mike had become engaged to Gwen Sorenson, who had blossomed into a dark-haired, ripe beauty with a sexy pair of blue eyes and a dimple in her right cheek.

The dance was to be held at a meeting house a few miles down the road. All the girls had new skirts, fully-stacked and brightly colored. The fiddlers in the area tuned up their fiddles and practiced the songs, the callers reviewed their patter and tried not to overstrain their voices during the preceding days, and all the wives and mothers cooked their treasured specialties, pecan pies, double-fudge cakes, fruit bread jeweled with red and green candied fruit, succulent hams studded with cloves, all to be eaten at midnight by the leg-weary crowd. For everyone was going, everyone who could still shake a leg or scrape a fiddle, or even just sit along the sidelines and gossip and urge on the dancers.

There was a full moon that fourteenth night of June, an orb glowing like an opal which lit the countryside almost like day and covered the rolling hills with a sinuous cloth of silver lame. Erin was dancing with Paul Dawson, now a tall, attractive lad of twenty with a lean face and a ready smile.

"My legs are about ready to give way," Paul said, as they finished a fast square dance and walked, breathing heavily, off the floor. "Let's get some fresh air."

They went outside and sat on the cool grass. With her arms behind her, propping her body, Erin tilted her flushed face toward the sky, in the moonlight her heavy, blond hair a rippling mass of silver sequins, and her eyes, dark and deep-set under the winged brows, as quiet and mysterious as a Sphinx. Her blouse, cut low in a circle revealed the clean curve of her shoulders and the soft, rising mounds of her white breasts, the hollow between them a deepening shadow as it disappeared under her blouse. The firm, twin arches of her breasts rapidly rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath, perspiration gluing the cloth to her moist, hot body, sharply outlining under the thin material the molded, outward swelling curves, each tipped with a hard bud, jutting outward under the wet gauze, dark and swollen, and the round, cupped fullness below. From her small, nipped-in waist her full skirt billowed out, its hem lying above her knees, framing in firm, plump flesh of her thighs, white and glistening in the moonlight.

"You're growin' up pretty as a heifer, Erin," Paul said. "Pardon my buttin' my nose in where it has no business, but is there anyone you're particularly sweet on around here?"

She glanced sideways at him, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. She liked Paul. "No," she said slowly. "Not particularly." She waited quietly.

He started to move his arm as though to put it around her, but then picked up a stone instead and threw it with a brisk swing, the stone clinking on a rock when it fell. He seemed embarrassed and unsure of himself, his inexperience revealed in his husky voice and nervous manner.

"Well, look, Erin," he said, "I was wonderin' what you were thinkin' of doin' after high school. Going to get married? Or are your parents goin' to send you to college?"

"I don't really know, Paul. They've said I could go if I wanted to, but I don't want to much. Maybe I'll go to Chicago and get a job. My aunt lives there, you know."

Although she hadn't told anyone, she had already made up her mind. College was not for her. She was too anxious for a quick plunge into the complex morass of life where she could surrender herself to the myriad delights she knew it would offer. It was not for her to go to college, where the fetters of a college routine would bind and choke her like the restrictions she felt at home, where the boys would be replicas of Paul and others in her own community, young, hesitant, undeveloped, and where she would not be able to freely indulge in the kind of experimentation she knew her body was ready for and eagerly demanded. No, when the time came, she would go to Chicago, live with her aunt until she found a job, and then strike out on her own.

As she shifted her position so her arm would brush against his and gave her head a shake so her fragrant hair swung against his face, tickling it with the golden wisps of her curls, she felt herself suddenly pushed back against the ground, her back pressed into the grass, her breasts and her belly flattened by the crush of his body on top of hers. Roughly he grasped her hair with one hand, entwining his fingers in its thick locks until her scalp tingled with the pain, while his other hand kneaded her soft breast, rapidly making it become firm and taut with desire. His mouth hungrily sought her own, his lips smashed go forcefully against hers that they parted and her teeth chewed his upper lip, making the blood flow and fill her mouth with its warm, salty taste. Her nostrils flared as the acrid scent of his male sweat reached them and she arched her back like a bow while his hand passed heavily down over the smooth swell of her stomach, seeking her hot loins.

Just then a figure appeared in the brightly lit rectangle of the door, the whirling music of the fiddles and the hoarse patter of the caller blaring out behind it like a radio fully turned up.

"PA-U-L! PA-U-L! Are you out there, Paul?" It was his mother.

He quickly rolled off her, breathing heavily, swearing softly. Erin lay with her eyes closed.

"Yoo-oo-oo-hoo-oo-oo! PA-U-L!" came the insistent, inquiring call again.

"Yeah, I'm over here," he finally yelled back, as he adjusted his clothes. "What do you want?" His voice was impatient and angry.

She walked toward them, saying, "It won't take a minute, dear. I only want you to drive me home. So many more people came than expected, we'll need another coffee urn. It'll only take a second." Her voice sounded apologetic when her eyes, now accustomed to the dark, saw Erin with him.

"Goddamn," he exclaimed under his breath. Turning to Erin as he got up, he added, "I'll be right back. How about eatin' with me when the dinner's ready?"

She nodded and watched him trail after his mother toward the line of parked cars. She lay back on the ground, her arms clasped under her head and looked at the glowing sky. The milky moon floated like a white gull on the calm, deep sea of the night, cloudless and without horizon. The warm, summer scented air and her aroused unfilled desires flooded her body with longing. The knot of lust twisted deeply in her belly and flowed down her limbs, making her legs ache and her muscles tense. She could not sit still. Rising from the ground, she slowly wandered away from the meeting-house, over a moon-drenched hill toward a small wood which lay like a silver castle on the far side of a meadow. Under the trees, standing like silent sentinels, the moonlight filtered down through dark, leaf-laden branches and fell on the grassy sod in liquid white pools. She walked between the dark pillars of trees. It was as if she were walking through an eerie, deserted church in a dream, or in another world, all alone, where objects could not be recognized and had no name, but only existed, quietly, peacefully.

But she was not alone, for suddenly she heard a male voice speaking gruffly a short distance away and an answering, gentle female laugh. Wondering who it could be and what they were doing, she took off her shoes and, picking her way carefully, so as not to stumble over a branch or snap a twig and thus betray her presence, moved cautiously toward where they were hidden. As the voice became more distinct she recognized them as belonging to Mike and Gwen. She fell to her hands and knees and inched along, her aim a small group of bushes behind which they seemed to he. What could they be doing? Whatever it was, she hoped they were too intent to hear the small rustlings she unavoidably made now and then. That they might be making love was more than possible. The mere thought of it made the tight knot in her groin rotate sharply. Having reached the bushes, she searched for an opening; finding one she looked through into a snug, grass-carpeted glade, ringed with bushes, which the moonlight, fading between the tall, watching trees, bathed in an opalescent light and softly spotlighted the entwined figures against the darker ground.

"Mike, darling, I do love you," Gwen murmured, "but do you think we should? Mightn't someone come?" She was lying on her back, Mike beside her, one leg angled over her knees, an arm propped on the ground and the other stroking her hair.

"Oh, honey, please. No one'll come way out here." He moved his hand to her blouse and began unbuttoning it slowly, his lips following his fumbling fingers as he gently kissed the gradually exposed flesh. Quietly she lay, the fingers of one hand hidden in his dark, curly hair, her body then moving with easy twists as he took off her blouse and reached behind to unhook her bra. As she sank back onto the ground her long dark hair fanned out on the grass, moonlight glittering in the rippling mass like a phosphorescent fish swimming in a dark sea. The soft silver light accentuated the contours of her young torso, high-lighting the lustrous curves and shadowing the hollows, molding her smooth body into a liquid, flowing melody of beautiful movement, without beginning or end. Her eyes were dark pools of desire and love; her full lips, mauve in the moonlight, were parted to reveal small, glistening teeth and the pink end of a wet tongue, eager to be met by his. The column of her neck flowed outward into the sloping, alabaster curves of her shoulders and down to the raising sweep of her apple-sized breasts, which were firm and raised like two white-hot, glowing coals, tipped with lavender buds, swollen and hard, and as softly caressed by the shimmering moonbeams as by Mike's hand and lips. Moving his fingers to her skirt, he raised it up over her ripe belly, kissing the lily-white shafts of her thighs and then eased it down over her hips and slowly pulled off her panties with exaggerated care. Quickly he got up from the ground, undressed, and stood gazing down at her, his body like a statue of chalk in the moonlight. He was fully a man, for his male organ stood out like a long, thick prick of ivory, ready and eager to bury itself in the wet, dark tunnel between her legs. Against the darker grass, the long milky, columns of her legs widened upward in pure, clean lines, swelled outward in the rounded parentheses of her hips, which were as white as snowdrifts, as mysterious as the moon above. Her belly curved in a gentle swell, soft, inviting, centered by the dark shadow of her navel, while below rose the strong jut of her mound, richly covered with sparse, dark swirls of budding pubic hair.

He dropped to the grass, leaned half over her and raised his hands to the shadowed hollows of her neck, moving them slowly and heavily outward around her sloping shoulders, downward over the soft pillows of her breasts, around the small circle of her waist and over the smooth, silky rise of her belly, following the creamy sweep of her hips down to the pliant, satin flesh of her full white thighs which he tenderly licked, slowly, heavily. She reached down and drew him up on top of her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss as they clasped each other strongly, their legs tangled together, her hands passing languidly over his back and kneading the white globes of his haunches. Soft moans and sighs mingled sensuously with the sound of their bodies, brushing and sliding against each other as their hands and lips explored warm curves and hidden crevices, their entwined, moving bodies looking like shifting, silver snakes. He buried his head against her breasts, kissing and fondling them.

Erin held her breath and reaching forward carefully with her hands, parted the bushes slightly and crawled forward a few more feet. She was as silent as possible in the darkness and the slight noises she made were no more than the wind rustling through the otherwise quiet forest. She was not more than two feet away from the sensuously writhing couple now and had a sudden almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch them. Her position was such that she could see without hindrance the soft, sparse pubic hair nestling mysteriously between her girlfriend's widespread thighs and the wet, pink slit of her open cunt as it throbbed in anticipation of the ravishment it was about to receive. Gwen's hand had reached down between their hard pressed bodies and her fingers were curled tightly around the full marble-whiteness of Mike's cock as it hung poised for entry into the tiny, waiting entrance between her legs.

Erin's mouth was dry and she could feel tiny beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead just beneath the soft, blonde hairline as she heard the moans and sighs rippling from deep in Gwen's chest. She would have given anything at that moment to change places with her, to be lying there beneath Mike's hot, lust-filled body waiting for him to fuck into her like the bull she had seen so long ago in Chris's corral.

"Put it in, darling, now, oh my darling," he whispered into the writhing girl's mouth beneath him. "I want to fuck you."

"Oh, fuck me, please do, please fuck me, darling!" the half crazed girl twisting under him pleaded wetly into his mouth. He moaned and pressed forward with a flick of his hips, the full, blood-filled head of his cock guided by the eager hands of the girl parted the moist red lips of her young, ready cunt and slipped wetly inside. She moaned loudly and crushed her head against his shoulders, chewing at it passionately with her lips. His hands slithered down the full rounded curves of her body and cupped the full rounded cheeks of her ass, bringing it suddenly tight up against his pelvis as he rammed forward with one great flesh splitting lunge and buried his cock deep, deep down in her belly.

Erin gasped as the forest was suddenly split by a half scream that was choked off almost as suddenly as it began by his hand that clamped down over her tortured girlfriend's mouth. There was a moment's silence and then the soft sounds of painful grunts coming from Gwen's hand covered lips as Mike began a slow but hard rotation of his hips between her widespread thighs. He rode her slowly at first, taking his hand from her lips and again cupping the full rounded melons of her asscheeks to pull her tighter up against him.

Erin's mouth was gaping wide now as she watched with unbelieving eyes the giant white cock skewering like a well greased piston deep between the wide-held legs of her girlfriend. She felt the juices of her own pussy begin to moisten the tightly clenched insides of her thighs as Gwen suddenly jack-knifed her churning body and clamped her legs high up around the hollowing and plumping asscheeks of her lover. Her pelvis rotated wildly against the softness of the leaves beneath her and small grunts of passionate delight burst in puffs from between her tightly clenched teeth. Erin's hand had lowered itself without consciousness down between her own legs and had inserted itself up under the elastic leg band of her panties where she fingered herself madly, almost forgetting the silence she had to maintain. She could not take her eyes from the now wet and glistening instrument that drove without mercy into the clasping hairy chevron between the legs of the moaning girl in front of her. She had slipped to her knees now so that her own asscheeks were waving high in the air behind her and the tiny bud of her clit throbbed and jerked beneath the hot, slippery tip of her finger as she followed the wild rhythm of the couple fucking right in front of her eyes.

Then, when she thought they could go no more, she saw Mike speed up his thrusting hips until they were almost a blur in the whiteness of the moonlight and smacking them loudly and wetly down into the twisting and churning loins of Gwen beneath him, gave a deep, muffled moan and rammed as far up into her as he could go. At the same time, Gwen squealed and locked her ankles tight around his back and jerked as though she were dying beneath him. Erin gasped also and felt her own wetness cascading down into the palm of her wildly stroking hand as she watched the small white trails of the sperm Mike had ejaculated deep into Gwen's body overflow out the lips of her quivering pussy and down between the cheeks of her asscheeks to the leaves below.

There was a last deep groan from both of them as Erin held her breath in silence and then Mike sank down heavily upon her girlfriend's satiated body. She lay still, not daring to move. Later he rolled to one side and lay on his back, his chest rising and falling, while she put her head on his shoulder and her hand down on his now soft and useless penis.

"God, I'd like to touch a boy like that," Erin found herself muttering silently, surprised at the sudden boldness of her thought.

After awhile, they rose hesitantly from the pile of leaves they had been lying in and after adjusting their clothing walked happily back toward the party. Erin followed in a few minutes, almost afraid to look at anyone for fear they would know what she had been doing. She knew now that she had to get away from this place, and quick, or she would be raping the first young male that came within arms length of her. There was only one place she could go, and that was Chicago.

It was Erin's first night in the city, her first night away from home. She locked the door of her bedroom in her aunt's apartment, high on the eighteenth floor of a tall, mid-town building, and walked over to the built-in wardrobe, the doors of which opened out and made a three-way mirror. She wanted to look at herself. For she had just had sexual intercourse for the first time in her 17-year old life.

It was almost midnight. Outside, a light summer rain was pattering on the window. Through a half-open door leading to a balcony came the wet smell of rain and the muted noises of late-city traffic far below. But here in her room it was quiet. After hours of talking to her aunt, she was glad she was finally alone. All evening her body had been smarting beneath her clothes for her back and hips were covered with cuts and scratches.

Quickly taking off her clothes, she let them lay where they happened to fall and opened the mirror, switching on the neon light which was set above it. She stood before it, seeing herself reflected three times. She knew she was beautiful. And she was glad, because she wanted to feel again, many times again, what she had felt this afternoon. Being beautiful would help her attract men - the kind of men she now wanted.

In the three mirrors her heavy golden hair rippled down over her shoulders like a waving field of ripening wheat and her eyes, the color of a clear, cobalt-blue sky above, large, slanting, fringed with thick, black eyelashes, stared back at her beneath the mocking arched wings of her eyebrows. Her nose was straight with the faintest suggestion of an upward tilt, her mouth, full and ripe, although a trifle too large. But her teeth were perfect, and her smile both innocent and seductive.

The straight lines of her neck flowed smoothly outward to the squared angles of her shoulders and downward to the rising curves of her breasts, twin mounds of firm flesh tipped with dark-red buds, their halos large and rosy. Rising on her toes, she stretched her arms above her head, making her breasts arch high and taut, her nipples becoming swollen and rigid as she remembered Dave's hands passing tightly over them this afternoon and the sucking, eager mouth. With a soft and languorous caress, her hand followed the flowing, mysterious curves of her body, brushed gently over the golden breasts, rubbed slightly the red, aching tits, cupped snugly the small circle of her waist and swept outward around her rounded hips. The slight acrid scent of dried sweat mingled with the musty smell of the leaves she had rolled on that afternoon and which still lingered on her skin.

From the slight indentation of the navel set in her gently rounded stomach, a faint line of down led to the strong jut of her mound, her center of sex thinly covered with silky, blond hair, golden swirls hiding her entrance of sex. Beneath were lush, full thighs and tapering long legs, their muscles tensing and relaxing as she moved up and down on her toes. Her skin was not pure white, but slightly golden, the color of toast or the fur of a tawny tigress. Slightly rotating her body to see her back, she drew in her breath as she saw the usually smooth planes of her shoulder blades, the concave hollow of the small of her back and the orbs of her haunches, as full and plump as ripe peaches, covered with pale-pink scratches.

But she really didn't care. For the hot, rising tide of pleasure, culminating in the sharp peak of the first orgasm with a man, had been well worth the lacerations on her body. And she knew that, for her, this would always be true. Being able to make love would be worth almost anything.

She turned out the light, walked over to the bed and slid between the sheets. Their coolness was fresh and soothing on her burning body and she fell asleep almost immediately.

She had driven to Chicago with a visiting cousin of one of their neighbors, a young fellow named Dave, whose gentle bespectacled face, when she had first seen him the evening before, made her think he was too shy and reserved to be possibly interesting. Since she had obtained her parent's permission to forgo college and, instead, look for a job in Chicago - permission more easily given after her aunt had written from Chicago inviting her to stay in her apartment as long as she wanted - she had been eagerly envisioning what adventures she might fall into, adventures for which her long pent-up desires were more than ready. But when she noticed his large strong hands and the ease with which he moved his powerful, compact body, a tingle of anticipation passed through her. Now that she was leaving home and would be finally independent, she no longer felt hesitant about indulging in a full sexual experience. It was as though a second umbilical cord had been cut, a strong cord of obligation and responsibility tying her to her parents and prohibiting her from doing anything which they might disapprove. For the first time she could look at a man and want him, without also feeling guilty about it.

They had stopped for lunch at a roadside diner and when they climbed back in the car, Erin moved over near him, her legs folded back under her, the hem of her cotton skirt above her knees.

"What kind of job were you thinking of getting?" Dave said.

"I'm not sure. I haven't had any experience. Do you think one will be hard to find?"

"Shouldn't be with your looks, baby," he said.

"I was thinking I might take a secretarial course first, but I'd really like to get a job right away instead, and be on my own."

"What's the rush? Anxious to make your first million?"

"No," she said, glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes, "but I'm sick of living with parents and relatives. I want to live by myself so I can do what I want."

"And what do you want to do?"

She didn't reply, but continued looking straight ahead out the window, a faint smile on her face. She felt him looking at her and then the light pressure of his warm hand on her knee.

"It's hot out. I feel all sticky," she said. He withdrew his hand as she unfolded her legs and stretched them out before her, her knees spread apart. She moved them back and forth and, holding the hem of her skirt, shook it slightly. "Perfect day to go swimming. I'd like to dive in right up to my neck."

"Yeah, I'd like to dive in, too, but not in water, and not up to my neck." He took one hand off the wheel and ran it down over her hair. "Baby, as I said before, you're a real killer."

He pulled her head toward him until it lay on his shoulder. She tilted it up and he kissed the end of her nose while his hand strayed down over her shoulder, under her armpit and over the proud rise of her breast which his fingers cupped and then tentatively pressed, the flesh soft but resilient under his spread fingers.

Moving her leg against his and laying her hand on his thigh, her fingers lightly kneaded it and then crawled slowly upward toward the crotch of his trousers. Her lips whispered with soft flutters against his neck and up to his ear, the lobe which she gently chewed, her hot breath filling his ear. With her hand she found the bulge between his legs and began massaging it until it became large and swollen and pressed tightly against the material. Digging his fingers in her breast, he rubbed and twisted the cockhead of her nipple, making it swell out under the thin white jersey like a dark-red grape.

The loud blast of a horn jerked them up, startled. The car swerved to the right as he quickly spun the wheel and narrowly missed a car which roared past them, its horn a continuous screech.

"My God!" Dave exclaimed. After a moment he laughed hollowly and said, "Honey, our romance almost came to a sudden and permanent conclusion."

Erin looked at him and said, "Can't we open a new chapter?"

He glanced at her quickly, at her flushed face and the thick hair tangled by the wind, at her blue eyes, their lids half-closed, gleaming with a frank invitation and then he slowed the car, soon turning off the highway onto a graveled road which he followed until he turned again, this time onto a bumpy lane leading into a small wood.

Switching off the key, he turned toward her, one hand still on the wheel. Wordless they looked at each other for a moment, feeling the tension between them, stretched tautly like an elastic band. But it snapped suddenly as they fell together, their bodies hungry and frantic. For they met like two wild cats, each furiously trying to subdue the other with their lips and hands, chewing, scratching, bruising, their mouths pressed together like two crushed flowers, biting each other's lips and tongues, their hands sliding heavily over the curves and hollows of their bodies as though they were trying to hurt each other.

She cried aloud as he grasped her hard with one hand and wrenched her around so that her back smashed against the steering wheel and the hard rim dug into her flesh and locked one arm around her. His lips bit into the smooth golden hollow below her neck while his fingers, tangled in her hair and pulling the roots, held her head like a vice. His other hand pressed and squeezed her breast as though it were an orange, as though he were trying to twist it off; so sharp was the pain that she screamed and struggled furiously to make him stop, kicking her legs until her skirt fell back over her belly, exposing the sheer pink of her panties under which the blond curls of her mound lay like a yellow crocus. Her full, tanned thighs trembled like golden jelly as she bucked and writhed, trying to escape, trying to free her twisted right arm from where it was crushed against his chest, the pen in his pocket jabbing into her flesh. He stopped her moans with his mouth and at the same time brought the palm of his hand down with a loud smack against one of her inner thighs, leaving a bright pink imprint, the sting and shock of the blow momentarily halting her contortions. He worked his hand up under the elastic of her panties, touching her wet throbbing pussy and tantalized the warm moist lips between her legs. As she felt his hand loosen on the back of her neck and his lips kiss her more tenderly, she began to relax and slowly freed her hands. But when his nails suddenly scratched the tender flesh under the fleece of her loins, she clawed his back and bit his lip until the blood flowed.

"You bitch!" he snarled. He clasped her wrists grimly in one of his hands. In one quick movement he pushed her off him and, still holding her wrists, opened the door and said quickly, "Get out."

He got out and pulled her after him. Her legs slid over the seat, the friction burning the naked underside of her thighs; she felt as though her arms would come out of their sockets. She was filled with a wild anger and wanted to fight back, but at the same time she was enjoying his violence, the open display of his lust for her and her body responded with an equal lust for him. The conflict between her anger and desire made her almost hysterical for a moment; she didn't know whether to tear at him with her nails or to fall upon him with all the love and passion her long pent-up desires demanded as a release.

But she had no time to decide for he threw her roughly to the ground and fell on top of her, the impact of his body crushing the breath out of her. The sharp rip of tearing cloth mingled with her moans as he first tore off her white blouse and then, with one wrench, tore off her bra and pressed his mouth against the soft pulp of her breast. When she felt his hard mouth sucking and biting the tender, aching nipple, flashes of pain lanced through her body and she began to churn violently beneath him so that her naked back ground into the pebbles, sharp as broken crockery, and the dirt covered roots which stuck out from the sod like knots of rope. She rolled her head from side to side, her taffy-colored hair now streaked with dirt and threaded with bits of leaves and twigs, her eyes closed, her mouth, once red and demure, now bruised and swollen. Scraping her nails down his back, she heard his shirt rip into long ribbons and felt the warm slipperiness of blood against her fingers.

He reached down and tore off the thin mesh of her panties as easily as though he were brushing away a cobweb and twisted around on top of her, dropping his face to the warm soft flesh of her thighs. She groaned and writhed beneath this violent attack that she hadn't expected as she felt his fingers clawing at the tender lips of her pussy, slowly spreading them apart between her widespread legs. She tried to clamp them together in a sudden rush of terror but he was too quick. His head dropped and the sudden wetness of his slavering lips locking onto her throbbing and exposed clit froze her body as it was. A sharp new sensation rippled through her and she felt all the tingling carnal passions that she had built up over all the years before suddenly and without warning, rushing up from her legs and belly and gurgling from her mouth in an uncontrollable torrent of pleading cries.

"Ooooh God! Oooooooooh God!" she groaned over and over without ceasing as the tiny bud of her clit springing into a life that she never knew it possessed as he nibbled and sucked at mercilessly in the sudden crazed passion that had overcome him. Her head rolled from side to side on the hard, unyielding ground, matting her hair with tiny bits of leaves and dirt but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but the delicious rape of the mouth that was making wet sucking sounds down between her open and defenseless legs. Strange, muted and hazy thoughts of that summer day long ago with Pal drifted across her mind and she wanted to open her eyes and see if there were lazy fleecy clouds above, but she couldn't. There was nothing she could do but buck and churn beneath that probing tongue that was burning fire into her young and inviolate pussy.

And then... then when she thought it would never end, he twisted around again, dropping heavily between her legs. He grasped her behind the knees and lifted her thighs high on either side of him, pausing only a moment to drop his pants to his knees.

Erin was beside herself, she had never felt so open and ready in her life. Her pelvis rotated in small hungry circles as he knelt between her open thighs, holding her legs in the air. He smiled down at her.

"You're hot, baby. I'm gonna like this."

"Dave!" she gasped urgently, her pelvis making larger circles now. "Fuck me! Fuck me or I'll die!"

Without hesitation he pulled her under him, the softness of her asscheeks scraping unnoticed along the roughness of the ground, and fell heavily down between her legs. His hand directed his huge throbbing cock to the wet, quivering lips of her cunt, pausing for the slightest of moments to part the thin, blond pubic hair, and then plumbing forward to rip without stopping through the thin, tight membrane of her virginity.

"Aaaagggghhhbh!" Erin suddenly screamed, the hot, blinding pain seared deep in her belly. "Oooooh, God stop, you're killing me. Oh... please... please!"

Her arms jerked up involuntarily and clung to him with all her strength as though it might drive the pain away. Her face was contorted and eyes clenched tightly shut. She struggled once, but then her body stilled to ease the pain. She could feel the full length of the huge penis throbbing deep inside her womb, imbedded to the hilt. Tiny whimpers sifted from between her tightly closed lips as she lay quietly, adjusting to the new and strange invasion of her tight virginal pussy.

Dave did not move at first, but lay rigid on top of her. He was surprised at her virginity from the fervor with which she had entered into the act but knew it would take her a moment for the pain to subside. Then, then by God he would throw it to her like she'd never get it again. He had never had a virgin before and he wasn't going to let this one off easy.

In a moment, Erin made her first tentative movement. She rolled her asscheeks slightly under him and a small surprised gasp of pleasure escaped from between her teeth.

It didn't hurt!

She had thought the pain would last much longer and had been afraid of it but suddenly there was none, a slight bit, yes, but coupled with the strange forbidding sensations coursing through her body it all merged into one great mass of indescribable pleasure.

Dave throbbed his cock inside her.

"Oooooooh, yessss, do it," she whimpered softly up into his ear.

He did it again.

"Oh God, yessss! yessss!" she hissed, her hips suddenly and slowly beginning to rotate beneath him. The tight, wet walls of her cunt contracted jealously around the hardness of his cock as though it were frightened of losing it. He groaned as he felt the muscles deep inside her belly answering the pulsating throbs of his steel-hardened cock. He could hold himself back no longer and began a slow teasing grinding in and out between her widespread thighs. He could feel the tightness of her clasping around him like soft warm butter, the walls of her cunt holding to him in an animalistic desperation as he withdrew slowly and then thrust forward again to sink his massive cock deep back down inside her.

Her pelvis beneath him began a faster rotation now, her asscheeks grinding and writhing down into the hardness of the ground with a sudden abandon that took him by surprise. Mewling sounds of passion and lust bound from her lips in waves of sound that he could not understand but that his body reacted to in the age old rhythm of intercourse that was as old as man himself. He levered up on his toes and dropped his hands down under them to cup the full quavering mounds of her asscheeks so that he could fuck deeper down into her.

"Aaahhhhhg! Ooooooooh!" She groaned and twisted her body hike a tortured snake under him. Thrusting her loins up at him as he ground down into her to take the whole of his expanding cook far down inside the warm hot sheath of her pussy.

Erin rocked in a dream world of obscene and uncontrolled lust under his pounding body. She had never in all her life, not with Pal, not with anything felt the way she did now with his huge male hardness buried to the hilt inside her. She could feel the soft slap of his balls against the tightly clenched cheeks of her asscheeks and the strength of his hands as they kneaded and tore at her tender flesh like the talons of a giant striking bird. She struggled hike a demon to open her thighs wider, to take him deeper, but she could not. He was sunk as far into her as he could go but she wanted more.

"Fuck harder... fuck harder," she pleaded and begged as she felt him begin to thrust his massive hardness into her with longer and longer strokes now. A strange dancing delight of fire was building far down in her quivering belly that drove her churning body on and on in it's wild quest for the delicious sensation building and building in every pore of her sweating body. And then it came! Her muscles contracted tightly around his plunging cock and she cried out wildly thinking the end was here, but soon his strong rhythmic strokes set off another explosion of delight that she had never dreamed possible. Her asscheeks rotated against the hardened earth like a helpless ship caught in the vicious waves of a driving storm. She arched her back like a bow, her head buffeting against the ground, her hair spread out like a golden fan, her full quivering breasts pointing to the sky, trembling and swirling in jerking circles as she quickened her movements to meet the mounting urgency she could feel pulsating through the head of his throbbing prick sunk so deep inside her hungry pussy. It was gentle at first, preceded by a soft, inhuman gurgle from deep in his chest. And then, she felt it. It was as though a giant explosion were ripping her belly apart. Hot white jets of his sperm erupted and flooded into her filling her womb with a warmth and sensation beyond all description. She could feel it racing around deep inside her as though the flood-gates of heaven had been thrown wide-apart. At the same moment, she jerked her own legs uncontrollably out in the air on either side of his spasmodically, grinding hips and a great flash of erotic fire leaped up inside her and exploded in a volcanic eruption of her own orgasm

"Aaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaah!" She moaned, her head turning from side to side, her hair beating the ground hike a golden whip. The muscles of her hips and belly contracted in rolling waves of spasm, the pulsating walls of her hot, sperm-filled pussy sucking the last drops from his still spurting cock, until finally, weak and exhausted, she stopped and fell limply back onto the ground.

They lay for some time, panting and gasping, the smell of her wet orgasm and the odor of the perspiration which coated their bodies like a light film of dew overpowering the fresh scent of the forest around them. Finally he sat up and then helped her to her feet. With her torn panties he wiped the dirt and blood from her back and hips and then he got their suitcases from the car.

Without speaking, they changed their clothes, climbed back into the ear and started on for Chicago.

Erin soon discovered finding another job was not as easy as she had expected. With no experience, she was limited to those which paid the least and seemed to be the least interesting.

"But why don't you take a secretarial course, Erin?" her aunt asked. "They have six-week courses here, and then you'd be much better qualified for a job."

"Yes I suppose I should." Erin sighed. "But I'd like to look a bit more, first."

"Well, I think you're foolish. You know you can stay here as long as you want, so it's not as if you absolutely had to get a job."

"I know aunt Mary," she replied, "and thanks, but the idea of going to school again just leaves me cold."

"Did you see the ad this morning for a clerk at the Harris and Black Department Store? No experience required, it said."

"Yes, I saw it going in on the bus this morning."

"Did you go and see them?"

"Yes, but."

"Well, what happened?"

"I had to take some tests, the usual rigmarole, and after an interview, they said they'd let me know. The hours would be awfully long."

"Did you go any place else?"

"Oh, yes, I went back to the Rogers Employment Agency and they sent me to a couple places... an advertising agency and a distributing outfit for household appliances."

"How were they?"

"The agency looks real good. A modern place and nice people."

"And?"

"And they're going to let me know. That's what they all say," she said impatiently, "we'll let you know. Really doesn't anybody just hire on the spot."

Her aunt laughed. "Well, that's the way it goes, dear. You'll just have to be patient. What kind of a job did they have open."

"Office girl... to open mail, carry copy around, learn the switchboard to help the girl they've get on it now, and things like that. Sounds a little more interesting, at least, than the other jobs I've looked into."

"What about the one at the distributing place?"

"I didn't like it at all. The job, nor the people, nor the place."

"Well, maybe you'll hear from the advertising people. I hope so. Try not to get discouraged, dear."

Erin refrained from telling her exactly how discouraging and exhausting her job hunting had been, for she knew her aunt would only press her the more strongly to take a secretarial course. But since she didn't want to delay earning her own living she wasn't going to give up yet, although she had already found that her interviewers had been interested in her for other reasons than giving her a job. At the distributing company she had finally learned what it was all about. And she had learned with a vengeance

She had gone in, eager and hopeful, dressed in a neat summer suit and pert white hat which framed her tanned face and golden hair impeccably and had waited impatiently to be called in for the interview. The office had been bare and stark, not at all pleasant and not very clean. Back and forth past the open door hurried flashily-dressed cigar-smoking men, talking to each other in loud tones, and rough language. Probably salesmen, she thought, and not very attractive ones at that. She didn't like the appearance of either the office or the employees and when she had finally been summoned into the interviewer's office, she had liked it even less.

Its windows closed, the room smelled of sweat, old paper and stale cigars. Behind a massive desk, which was scarred and chipped, sat a gorilla of a man with a large, square head, black, bushy eyebrows and smoking a cigar. He didn't get up when she entered.

"You can sit down there," he said as he pointed with his cigar, held between nicotine-stained fingers, to a straight-hacked wooden chair.

She sat down and demurely crossed her ankles, her gloved hands folded on her lap while he looked at her for a few moments without speaking. He sucked deeply on his cigar, blew out a swirling cloud of blue smoke, cleared his throat wetly and loudly, and spat on the floor.

"You're not bad, babe, not bad," he said in a gruff voice. "We could use someone like you around here. Do you want the job?"

"What is it exactly?" she said faintly. She already knew she didn't want it but thought she might as well go through with the interview now that she was here.

"Nothing you couldn't do, honey. Opening mail, delivering it and general errand work... going out to get us coffee and stuff like that. Wouldn't tax that beautiful head of yours." He tilted his chair hack and leered at her.

"So what about it?" he said.

"Well, I..." she faltered.

"Doesn't pay much, of course," he said, "but then you haven't to worry about that. The Cromwell Wholesale and Distributing Company always takes care of its employees and there's no doubt that with your looks, babe, you'll be well taken care of around here." He laughed, got up and walked slowly around the desk. She sat quietly, twisting her fingers, and watched his hands; his thumbs were hooked on his belt and one hand held the cigar. They were large and chapped with crescents of dirt under the cracked nails.

"Well, but I..." she started to say.

She didn't dare raise her eyes as he came toward her, but continued to stare at his hands and behind them his stomach which swelled out like a soft, over-ripe watermelon under the belt and shirt, stained with sweat and dirt, soft and wrinkled.

"What's the matter, honey, I won't bite you!" He laughed again as he stood in front of her. She saw his hands move. He flicked his cigar, the ashes falling onto her skirt and over her white gloves. He put his other hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"Well, what about it?" he said.

"I don't think I'll take the job," she said, she was tense and frightened. But what could happen to her here in his office? She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at the closed door.

He roared with laughter again and moved his hand to the nape of her neck and rubbed it with firm fingers.

"Honey, you better think again. There might be more money in it for you than just the job. You know, you're quite a looker."

"I don't think I want the job," she said again and started to get up, but his hand drew her toward him and he crushed her against his chest. His head bent toward hers; she saw his stained teeth and smelled the nauseating smell of his breath and his mouth sought her own. Turning her head, she struggled to free herself from his arms and kicked his shin.

"Goddamn!" he said. "You're a real she-devil!"

He lifted her by the armpit and put her on the edge of the desk. Pushing her back against the hard wood and crumpled papers, he leaned over her, his crotch pressed against hers, his jutting stomach spread over her hips, and held her down, one hand clamped firmly on her breast while the other searched under her skirt and fumbled up over her thighs to where her panties met in a flimsy silken triangle over her soft pubic mount.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let go of me!" She twisted and writhed under his hands, feeling his short, stubby middle finger insinuating itself up under the elastic legband of her thin nylon panties. She gasped in sudden pain and humiliation as she suddenly felt it sink deep between the fleshy lips of her pussy and far up inside her. His other hand left her breast and clamped over her mouth, trying to drown out the cries of terror building there at the sudden and unexpected attack. Erin was almost out of her mind from the quick paralyzing fear of what the pudgy, fat man might do to her in his wild uncontrolled lust. She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes bulging wide in disbelief. Sweat was rolling in tiny rivulets from his forehead from the unaccustomed exertion he was forcing on his flaccid body and his eyes shone with twin sparks of madness she had seen before in the wild rolling eyes of the insane in some far distant horror movie she had seen as a child. There was nothing she could do. Her body was frozen and she felt as though she was some distant observer gazing down on the unbelievable scene of her own rape in the office of this horrible uncivilized creature that could not even he called human.

She lay on the paper littered desk like some defenseless cornered mouse chased into a crevice by an evil purring cobra. Her muscles were useless and she could only follow his lewd, obscene actions with the fear dilated pupils of her eyes as he pried her legs apart with his own short fat thighs and edged far up between them. He slipped his finger wetly from her cunt and placing both hands under her knees, lifted her legs high up off the floor, at the same time pulling her toward him across the desk. She could feel her body sliding with ease through the disorganized stacks of paper that floated to the floor around them with a strange uneasy silence. There was no sound in the room now except the fat man's heavy, labored breathing that became more desperate with each moment he drew closer to possessing her lovely young body. Her shoulders on either side of his head and his hands snaked around her hips pulling her at him again until the whole of her upturned loins were pressed tight against the hard bulge beneath his pants.

The harsh metallic sound of a zipper being hurriedly pulled down broke the silence of the room and she felt the wet lubricated end of his penis pressing hotly against the soft inner flesh of her thighs at the top of her silk stockings. There was nothing separating them now but the thin flimsy band of her panties running up between her wide-held legs.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear herself away from this evil creature who was using her young fear-frozen body as though she were a whore that had just walked in off the streets. But... she couldn't. All she could do was lay as she was, helpless on her back in the messy pile of papers on the desk and let this dirty, filthy old man play with her secret parts as he willed. He lifted her legs higher still and pulled her even closer to the edge of the desk until the white rounded ends of her asscheeks were hanging slightly over the side. At the same time he arched his loins toward the center of her open thighs. She whimpered piteously, the first sound she had been able to utter since the horrible nightmare had begun and a trembling please escaped in a forced whisper from her throat.

"Please... please don't do it to me... please!"

Then to her increased horror, she saw a lewd smile break across his fat slobbering lips.

"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you like you ain't never been fucked," he grunted down at her in animal satisfaction, his small beady eyes dropping from her face to the exposed center of her loins. "Bet you got the tightest little pussy in town."

His hand moved down the inner flesh of her thigh and she automatically raised her head from the desk where it was lying and looked with pleading eyes down between the full cleavage of her dress covered breasts to the spread of her legs below. Another small squeal of protest escaped from her lips as she saw his thick, fat hand slide around the curve of her leg of her thigh and between her legs to pull aside the thin wet crotch piece of her panties. Her eyes widened further and she gave a choking gasp as she felt the hardness of the head of his cock probing harshly at the now open and unprotected lips of her fear-quivering cunt. He lifted it up and down in the nature-moistened slit for a moment, parting the full fleshy lips like a blunt knife slicing it's way through a soft cube of butter. Her stomach felt sick and nauseated and she heard him begin spitting obscenities through his clenched teeth as though he were a mad man.

"Oh little baby, what a tight li'l pussy... lovely blond cunt hair...gonna fuck you crazy... come to Daddy, baby."

And then... unable to contain himself any longer he jerked forward, sinking his fat, thick penis half-way into her cringing pussy. Erin gave a desperate choking gasp, an expression of utter incredibility coming over her face as she felt the hard blunt 8-inch cock sliding relentlessly into her.

"Oh, Ooooohh, God, No... no... please... No!" her voice rasped helplessly as the hard brutal realization that all this was real tunneled into her tortured mind.

The fat man's eyes gleamed, as he looked down between their now lewdly coupled bodies and watched the slow agonizing disappearance of his thick round cock into the soft blond fleece between Erin's upheld thighs. When he had it a little over half way in, he stopped the wet, viscous penetration and hissed down at her agonized face:

"There honey... you like Daddy's cock in ya, don'cha?"

Erin moaned in her agony of humiliation and did not answer the leering man's torturous question.

"Ya like it, baby, I can tell," he chuckled obscenely, "Ya want more don'cha? Ya want it all in ya, oh? I can feel that tight li'l pussy beggin' for it. Tell me, baby, tell me, and I'll give it to ya."

She could not speak and just nodded her head. God, she had to get it over with or this horrible man would never let her go. She just had to.

"Tell me, baby!" he said more brutally time, pinching the soft inner flesh of her thigh hard between his pudgy fingers.

"Aaaagghhh!" Erin grunted. "Y-You're hurting me!"

"Tell me to fuck it then," he teased lewdly. "Tell me to fuck that li'l cunt of yours, baby."

"Ooooh God," she groaned at the pain and finally found the strength from deep in her sub-conscious mind to follow his obscene command. "Yesss, God yes... fuck it... fuck it!"

The evil leering fat man above her released his flesh-tearing grip on her thighs and with a triumphant wheeze rammed his thick, fat cock as far into her belly as it would go.

"Ooooooooh," Erin groaned as it seared up inside her pussy, stretching the tender lips and inner walls wide apart. She grunted as the hard blood-filled head smashed with a jolt all the way up to her cervix. She was completely impaled in the most humiliating position in the world and the sight of her lush young body completely at his mercy that way drove the fat, puffing man almost wild. He rammed in and out of her quickly and without regard for the pain he was subjecting her to by the twisting and turning of her flesh beneath his hands as his cock pistoned in and out of her widely stretched pussy like a huge, throbbing blimp. There was nothing she could do but lay there and groan out her pain and indignation into the unhearing air above her. There was no one to help her and she lay soft and helpless on the desk until she suddenly heard his gasp down at her and felt the hot wet sperm of his stolen passion shooting in short powerful jets deep down inside her belly.

He stood sagging and wheezing between her legs for a moment afterwards as the hardness of his penis slowly drained itself and deflated inside her and then he backed away and collapsed in a huffing heap on the couch against the wall behind him.

Erin had never felt so soiled and degraded in her life as she struggled to her feet from the top of the desk. The crotch band of her panties slipped back into place under her dress as she stood up and she could feel it wet and sticky against the flesh between her legs from the flood of his sperm inside her.

Pale and trembling, her fingers nervously tried to straighten her skirt as he shakily struggled to his feet and stood beside her.

"Baby, you're a nice little screw. I think we can use you around here," he laughed as though he had said something humorous.

Erin said nothing as she struggled to re-adjust her clothing,

"Okay, okay," he said, laughing again and blowing his foul smelling cigar smoke in her face. "Ya can't blame me for grabbin' a little from a cute young gal like you, can ya. I'm only human."

She finished with her clothing and combed out her hair quickly without breaking the silence.

"Won't do ya no good to go to the cops, girly, if that's what you're thinkin'," he threatened with a knowing smile. "All them guys in the outer office would swear they didn't hear no rape. Might even say ya propositioned me for a job."

Without saying a word or looking at him, she picked up her purse, walked over to the door, opened it and slammed it shut behind her. She could hear him laughing as she walked away and tiny tears bubbled in the corner of her eyes.

Welcome to the big city, she heard the mocking voice of the fat man run through her mind. Ya'll love it, baby. And... she decided then and there that she would from this moment on.

Two days later the advertising agency called and told her that the job for which she had been interviewed was hers. Happy and eager, she began work the next morning, resolving to do her best on this, her first job. Although the work was routine - opening mail, delivering it, running copy and doing other errands, learning to handle the switchboard and receive clients in the reception room - the novelty of doing something and being paid for it, as well as the amiability of the staff, made her like the job and conscientiously try to do her best. And in turn, the employees liked her, her youthful air, her fresh beauty, her desire to please and her quick response to their wishes.

Several of the men asked her for dates. She liked, particularly, a young copy-writer named Bill who, although not much taller than she, had a ready wit and took delight in showing her the nightlife of Chicago, a new experience for Erin, whose night life heretofore had consisted of the movies and a few dances in the farming community in which she had been raised. So at first she was somewhat shocked by the more ragged side of life - the burlesque shows, nightclub shows, and the sight of prostitutes patrolling the sidewalks - but soon the novelty and shock wore off and she accepted it as only another aspect of her new and interesting life.

One Friday night after a late movie she and Bill stopped at a small all-night cafe on State Street for a hamburger and coffee. While they were dawdling over their second cup and deciding what to do next, a hand clapped Bill on the shoulder and a hearty voice said, "Well, if it isn't Bill Stevenson! Haven't seen you in months. What are you doing in this crummy section?"

Erin looked up and in the mirror behind the counter saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man with black hair, a tanned face, smiling dark eyes and a wide, friendly grin. "I'll he damned! Lars Mahoney!" Bill exclaimed as he swirled around on his stool. "Where you've been all this time?"

"Oh, screwin' around. Makin' some dough. This and that. What about yourself?" he said. He sat down on the next seat to Bill and signaled the waiter for a cup of coffee.

"I'm downtown at the Shepherd Advertising Agency, making with the words and trying to persuade frazzled housewives to shell out $5.15 for hand lotion which costs a manufacturer twenty cents to make. Great stuff. Most ennobling for the soul."

"Sounds like a real drag, man," Lars said. He glanced at Erin's bare left hand. "Hey who's your chick? Or have you got her patented?"

He craned his head around Bill and grinned at Erin who smiled back.

"Oh, sorry," Bill said, "Erin, this is Lars Mahoney. Erin Holiday. Lars and I grew up in the same neighborhood."

"Glad to meet you, Erin," Lars said and reached over to shake her hand. "You're from Chicago? You don't have that Loop pallor."

"No, I'm fresh from the country. I've only been here about four or five weeks," Erin said.

"Frightened in with the other heifers, huh? You'd better leave before you get slaughtered, too," Lars said with a laugh. "Chi's a real crazy town, baby."

"But I like it - at least so far. Bill's been showing me some of the night life."

"Not like life down on the farm, I bet. Don't you know?"

"What?"

"Do you know it?"

"Know what? What do you mean?" Puzzled, she looked at him and then at Bill.

"My God," Lars said. "A real prude. I thought they weren't grown anymore."

Erin flushed. But when he grinned at her she realized he was only teasing her.

"So I'm a prude," Erin said. "So I need some education. So what did they mean?"

"He wants to know if you like it," Bill said.

"Oh, sure I do," she said, smiling at them. "Give me a few more weeks and I'll even know knowing." She sat up straighter, her plump DD-cup breasts swelling softly out under the tight sweater and brushed her heavy hair back with her hands.

Lars was still looking at her, a half-smile on his face, frankly caressing with his eyes her moist, red lips and the firm upsweep of her breasts. She gazed back at him, coolly and openly. She felt nude under his stare. She liked the feeling.

Tom cleared his throat and said, "Do you live around here, Lars?"

Lars dragged his gaze away from Erin. "Yeah, not far," he said. He lifted his cup, cradling it with his hands and sipped slowly. Erin glanced in the mirror and caught him looking at her again over the rim of his cup.

"Well Erin," Bill said, "we'd better be going. Nice to have seen you, Lars." His voice was brisk and commanding.

"Yeah, I gotta split, too," Lars said. "Here I'll pay." He threw some coins on the counter.

As they got up and started out the door he took Erin's arm, holding her hack momentarily and whispered quickly, "Where can I reach you, baby?"

"I work at the Shepherd Agency, too," she said softly.

"Okay," he said and released her.

"Well, so long, kids," he said. "I'm going the other way. See you later."

They shook hands and parted.

The next morning, while cleaning the small apartment into which she had just moved, Erin was thinking of Lars. She was angry at herself, not only having failed to give him her home telephone number, but also for not having indicated more clearly that she would like to see him again. After they had parted the night before, she had asked Bill about him; he had replied that although he didn't know what Lars was doing now, he had always been somewhat of a worthless bum and had tangled with the police several times and, furthermore, he added, he was someone whom Erin should steer clear of. But this, of course, together with her immediate attraction to him, only tantalized her curiosity and made her all the more eager to see him again.

When the telephone rang, she dropped the dust mop and ran to the phone, hoping it would be Lars, but realizing at the same time that her new number wasn't listed. It was Lars.

"Hello?" she said.

"Erin? This is Lars, the cat you met last night."

"Oh, yes. Hello, Lars. How are you?" Her heart was beating rapidly.

"Fine baby. Had a hell of a time getting you. Called that slave joint of yours, but the operator said you didn't work on Saturdays. Didn't want to give me your number and address, but I finally conned her into it - told her I was your brother and just got in town. So how are you?"

"Fine, Lars. Busy cleaning my new apartment."

"Yeah? Like to see it. I don't dig phones. Look, baby, you got anything on tonight?"

"Well, no, I guess not." She had a date with Bill, but knew she could break it by telling him her aunt was ill and she had to go over to see her.

"Swell. I'm tied up 'til about nine, but I'll pick you up at your pad right after. Okay?"

"Where?"

"At your place. Okay?"

"Yes, that's fine, Lars."

"Okay, baby. See you then. Keep cool."

"Bye, Lars. See you tonight."

Lars took Erin to the "960 Club," a small nightclub on south State Street where, he said, the feature attraction of the show was a friend of his, Flossie McNamara, who was billed as Rock Night, the Latin Bombshell. After the show, he added, we can go backstage if you'd like, and meet some of the cast. Erin was pleased by the idea of actually being able to go behind the scenes and looked about her with interest as they sat at the bar, perched on high stools.

The Club was small, consisting of a large rectangular bar with a scarlet curtained stage at one end, its floor on a level with the bar, and few small tables scattered along the sides. The floor was carpeted with a thick, scarlet rug and three of the walls were entirely covered with mirrors while the fourth was draped with the same scarlet material which curtained the stage. The ceiling was black, studded with stars which twinkled softly and afforded the only illumination in the room. In the dim light she could see in the mirror Lars and herself reflected back a dozen times, his rugged darkness strikingly paired with her own blondness. On a small platform in front of the stage a four-piece combo was beating out a popular song. Lars explained that when the show started the platform sank down to the floor, permitting a clear view of the stage, and that the girls not only used the stage for their acts but also walked along the top of the bar.

Rock's appearance was heralded by a roll of drums, the darkening of the overhead lights and a white spotlight shining on the curtains which slowly parted. And there was Rock, dressed in a tight, black evening gown, she looked like a black, sinuous mermaid for the dress was covered with shiny sequins which glittered and sparked in the spotlight like the scales of an iridescent fish and hugged each curve like a rubber glove. Except for her arms, which were encased in long, mesh gloves, the dress covered her completely and was fastened at the neck by a narrow collar of sequins. On her head was a glistening, winged cap which came down over her ears and held back the long black hair which rippled almost to her waist. One hand on her thrust-out hip, the other holding a long cigarette-holder, she was completely motionless, a shimmering statue against the red drapes, the blackness of her costume relieved only by her white, red-nailed hands, her face, chalky in the light, and her black eyes and full red lips.

As the music softly throbbed, she slowly moved her arm, took a drag on her cigarette and blew out the smoke through her nostrils. She began to sing a torch song, her voice deep and husky, caressing each word and note, intimate and seductive. At first she barely moved her body, but as the song became more passionate she started to weave her shoulders and hips. Two long slashes of startling white flesh suddenly appeared; her dress was slit both from the collar to the waist and from the floor up to her thigh. With her eyes closed, her head and shoulders thrown hack, swaying in time to the music, the slit widened to show the rising curves of her breasts, framed by the jet-blackness of her gown. The music swelled up in strong, rhythmic beats and she glided languidly about the stage, her body undulating like a glittering, black serpent, her eyes staring brazenly at the audience through half-closed lids. Against the black inverted V of her skirt, her legs flickered in and out, their whiteness and nudity accentuated.

Then, as the spotlight changed to a soft rose, she unfastened some hooks at her neck and waist and the dress suddenly fell away. Like a statue of pink alabaster, her skin glowed with the soft luster of a seashell's interior. Her breasts and sex were covered with narrow satin strips, its color so nearly the same rosy hue as her skin that she seemed to be really nude, and it was only the long, pink fringe, hanging over the material, which betrayed the illusion. Swinging like moving fingers over the strong jut of her mound and over the plump orbs of her haunches, their ends caressed her lush thighs, the inner sides of which softly rubbed together as she rolled her hips in large circles and slowly revolved around the stage. Living the throbbing, sensual beat of the music, her body undulated suggestively, lewdly, her arms raised above her head, entwining and parting in the flowing movements of an Oriental dancer; her torso weaving in circles, her entire body seemed taut with sexual tension, but at the same time relaxed and languorous; the curtains of fringe swayed like the tentacles of a pink jelly-fish, drawing attention to the proud, pointed breasts, arched high, and to the hidden center of her sex.

As the spotlight followed her, bathing her in a pink sea of light, she sauntered slowly onto the bar and walked along its top. Leisurely she moved, gracefully and deliberately, her shoulders, breasts and hips pulsating in time to the music. Her heels clicked on the hard wood and as she passed, a pungent scent of musky perfume came from her body. Looking upward, following the long sweep of her legs which widened and met at the apex of her sex, one could see a faint film of sweat which coated her body like a pink dew.

When she had circled the bar and returned to the stage, she put her hands behind her. When she brought them forward again she was holding the two satin strips which she tossed to the side. Her breasts and the lower part of her belly were now covered only by the pink fringe. Her movements became more intense and erotic, and the thin curtains swayed to and fro as she threw her torso into violent contortions, permitting glimpses of the firm twin arcs of her breasts, tipped with hard rosy buds and the large pad of her sex, covered only by a G-string. The spotlight dimmed, shadowing more deeply the tapering under-slope of her large swaying breasts, molding more richly the turning curves of her body and legs, accentuating the glistening, pink highlights on her thrusting breasts and belly and swirling asscheeks. Her legs spread wide, she bent backwards, her long, black hair sweeping the floor while she swayed her torso so the fringe fell back and one could see only the long inverted V of her legs, climaxing at the wide open mat of her wide spread crotch, as wide as a hand and above it her breasts, completely nude and pointing upward like two cones. When she stood up again, she moved onto the bar and once more circled it, rolling her hips, thrusting out her pelvis, contorting her torso into erotic positions until her entire body seemed to be vibrating with sexual passion. With her heavy-lidded eyes frank and inviting, her hair floating behind her, her tongue sliding over her wet, red lips, her hands moved heavily down on her breasts, caressed the swell of her hips and slipped up her thighs to her mound, which she slowly and suggestively rubbed.

Once back on the stage, she quickly tore off the fringes and stood posed for a few moments in the rosy spotlight, entirely nude except for the almost imperceptible G-string. Then she ran off the stage. The curtains closed and the house lights came on again.

Erin was still staring wide-eyed at the closed curtains, her mouth partly open, when she felt Lars' arm around her waist.

"Well, that's Rock. How do you like her, baby?" Lars said.

"She's terrific! I've never seen anyone like her before."

"Yeah. The greatest. How'd you like to meet her?"

"Oh, I'd love to. But what about the other acts?"

"Most of them are real drags. Come on, let's cool it backstage. I've already cleared it with Joe."

"Who's Joe?"

"He runs the joint. Come on back."

As the curtains parted for another act, they went through a door near the bar and found themselves in a different world. In the bar everything had been clean and luxurious; here was dirt, confusion and the smell of powder perfume and sweat. Next to the stage sat a heavily made-up girl with red hair, sprawled on a broken down chair and smoking a cigarette. When she saw Lars, she quickly sat up and straightened her dress.

"Hi, Lars. What brings you here, darling?" she said, looking at him through heavily mascara lids. She stared rudely at Erin as if to add, "And what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello Lacy. Havin' a ball?" Lars said.

"You kiddin'? There's about as much chance havin' a ball in this joint as havin' one at a meeting of the D.A.R. Jeez!"

"What in hell are you complaining about? You're making some bucks, aren't you?" He stared back at her, a disgusted look on his face.

"Yeah, but for what? Put your clothes on, take 'em off to tantalize the bug-eyes out there," she said, jerking her thumb toward the bar, "put 'em back on, go out and hustle for drinks, change costumes, take your clothes off again, and so on and so on. My God, my skin feels like it's gettin' ingrown zippers."

"Good old Lacy. Always complaining. I'll see you later."

"Don't I know it," she yelled after him and watched them sullenly as they walked down the corridor.

"What's she so stirred up about?" Erin asked.

"Aw, she bugs me," Lars said. "Always biting her tongue. I got her this job and now she's putting it down. I'm about fed up with her."

Erin looked at him perplexedly wondering what the story was between them. She felt a twinge of jealousy that there should be something between Lars and Lacy, and then was surprised at her own feeling.

He took her by the arm and steered her around a corner. A girl sauntered out of a dressing room, completely nude, smoking a cigarette, and clicked down the hall on high heels into another room. Several girls walked by, smiled warmly at Lars and greeted him by name. One of them was Rock, now dressed in a tight, white gown.

"Lars, darling? How are you?" she crooned and then kissed him.

"Fine, Rock. Where you off to? I'd like to have you meet Erin here," he said.

"Hello honey," she smiled at Erin. "How do you like this rat nest?"

"Oh, I... I... really, I think it's exciting," Erin said. She was somewhat awed by all the activity backstage and the glimpses of nude women through the open dressing-room doors.

"How about a talk someplace, Rock? I promised Erin a real look at you!" He laughed, winked at Rock and patted her plump haunch.

"Hell, Lars, I've got to go out and hustle drinks. Sorry, honey," she said, looking at Erin. "But why don't you go in my room back there and make yourselves at home?"

"Okay," Lars said. "See you later."

They walked back to Rock's dressing room which, as she was one of the stars, she shared only with two other girls. It was a small cubicle, with two dressing tables at one side, their tops littered with jars and bottles of cream and perfume, lipstick tubes and mascara brushes, loose bobby pins and spilled powder, and a hundred other items, all jumbled together in a hopeless mess. Against one wall was an open closet, bulging with costumes and dresses, some dirty and frayed with torn hems hanging limply. On the chairs were scattered other costumes and a few G-strings piled in wrinkled masses, mesh brassieres and filmy panties flung over the backs, while on the floor were spike-heeled shoes, red, black, lavender, lying where they had been taken off together with a pair of soiled underpants and a litter of spilled pins, bits of thread and scraps of paper; while over all, the sweet heavy odor of talcum powder and perfume mingled with the acrid scent of female sweat. From the bare, glaring light bulb suspended from the ceiling hung Rock's pink G-string, still swaying slightly.

"Home, sweet home," Lars said.

"How do they ever find anything to put on in this mess?" Erin laughed as she peered in the door.

"No trouble there - the customers like it better if they don't find anything to put on."

They walked into the room.

"How about a drink?" he said. He brushed a pile of clothes from a chair onto the floor and picked up a bottle of cheap whiskey which was standing under it. He fished around in the litter on the table until he found two glasses, both dirty and rimmed with lipstick. He splashed some liquor in the glasses.

"Here, have a slug."

But as he raised his head, he saw Erin in the mirror. She was standing behind him, looking around at the costumes and G-strings at the tables covered with cosmetics, her eyes dreaming and wondering. Putting the glasses down, he turned around.

"You're a strange chick, baby," he said. "Damn if I don't think you're somewhat shocked by all this." He paused. "Are you?"

"No," she said slowly, looking at him wide eyed. "If anything, it sort of excites me." She laughed, a rosy flush creeping up her tanned cheeks.

He stared at her a moment and then reached out and took her roughly in his arms. Tilting back her head, he pressed her lips against his and felt her body, at first tense, slowly relax as he kissed her warmly and deeply. But then she began to struggle and push him away, glancing at the door.

"Really," she panted, "should we being doing this here?" She gestured toward the open door.

"You kidding?" he grinned. "If anything, they'd gather around to watch, and then hire us as a new act."

He leaned against the dressing-table and folded his arms, his long legs stretched out before him.

"But if you're worried, baby, we can always close the door, and in the meantime, relax and have a drink."

He handed her a glass.

"Oh, it's not that. It's just that... well... I just." She stammered and then stopped. "I'd just like to look around a little. It's all so new."

She took a large gulp of the whiskey, coughed at its rawness and moved slowly around the room. She fingered Rock's pink tasseled bra, held up a wisp of black panties and glanced up at the G-string dangling from the light cord. Pausing in front of the closet, she ran her hand along the bright line of costumes and evening dresses, picked up the skirt of a blue satin gown and rubbed it against her face. Finally she put out a tight, black evening gown and walked over to the mirror; she posed in front of it holding the dress against her.

"Why don't you try it on?" Lars said.

"Oh, could I? Do you not think they would mind?"

"Sure, go ahead. Try everything on, if you want."

He reached up and pulled the G-string from the cord.

"How about this? You'd look fine in it."

"Well, shut the door then, and turn around while I change."

"Why the bashful act? Think I've never seen a nude woman before?"

"No, I just want to be in the other costume before you see me."

"Well, okay, but there's better things to look at in this joint than a dirty wall. I'll be back in five minutes."

She watched him as he walked over to the door and shut it behind him. A tingle of anticipation prickled in her belly. Seems the strippers flaunting their nude flesh had made her want to imitate them and eager to try on their costumes so she could see how she, herself, looked. And above all, she wanted to display herself to Lars.

Quickly she stripped off her clothes and put on a black G-string, fitting the small swatch of silk over her mound and adjusting the almost invisible string over her haunches. Next she found a black mesh bra, really only half a bra, for it came up only to her nipples, supporting the soft under part of her breasts and leaving the top half free. Picking up a rouge stick, she reddened and rubbed her nipples until they stood out like two crimson eyes. Then she slipped on a short gauze jacket beneath which her golden skin glowed warmly, and a short black skirt which cinched over her belly and hung in two sections, slit at the sides, one panel covering the triangle of her pubic hair and the other, her full, ripe asscheeks. Here and there the black satin was slashed in the pattern of large flowers, gauze-covered, her tawny skin showing through the mesh like pale copper flowers lying on a black field. She combed out her long, blond hair so it rippled freely down over her shoulders, applied a slash of bright red lipstick to her mouth and a heavy coat of dark mascara to her thick eyelashes. Running a finger over the exotic labels on the row of perfume bottles, she picked out a heavy, spicy scent and sprayed herself liberally.

Just then she heard the door open and she turned around to see Lars standing in the doorway, staring at her.

She laughed and said, "How do I look?"

He continued to stare at her without saying a word for a few moments and then whistled. He shut the door and turned the key in the lock.

"Baby, I'd hire you in a second."

Poised on her high heels, she revolved slowly before him.

"All we need is some music," she said.

"We can supply our own music," he said, as he started toward her.

"No, wait," she said. "Let me take it off first."

He paused, watching her, his eyes narrowed, following the golden curves of her body as she took off the jacket and the skirt. She stood before him, the firm upper swell of her breasts protruding out above the black mesh of the half-bra, the nipples swollen and rouged. On her loins the small patch of silk lay like a painted black leaf, accentuating the tawny tan of her full hips and thighs. She turned around, her haunches rotating slowly, their orbs rising and falling, a thin dew of perfume still lingering on the small of the back and filming the downy hair which traced a pale line from her navel to her mound. Her back to him, she tossed back her hair and arched her breasts, watching him in the mirror, as he stared at her, holding his breath. Their eyes met in the mirror and as he started for her, she turned and leaped toward him, scissoring his waist with her bare legs and flinging her arms around his neck. His hands under her asscheeks, holding her against him he buried his head in her chest and sucked the nipple of her breast into his mouth. They fell over onto the floor, tipping over a chair, their limbs and bodies writhing on the floor amongst the scattered costumes and spilled powder.

He ripped off her G-string with one quick jerk of his strong, lean hands and at the same time she heard the harsh metal grate of his zipper ripping down the front of his trousers. Pinioning her on the hard wooden floor with his arms, he insinuated his pulsating cock between the warm, flowing lips of her tight, already throbbing pussy and without halting for a moment stabbed upwards.

"Oooooooh," Erin cringed before the sudden entry as she felt his hard 9-inch male flesh slithering deep up inside her. He penetrated her so deeply on the first thrust their short pubic hair twisted and tangled together as he ground his pelvis tightly down into her loins. The soft skin of his testicles brushed teasingly against the now widely exposed lips of her soft sensitive ass nestled just below their wet coupling. Without waiting he began sliding in and out of her with long, desperate thrusts. She arched her back, unable to hold herself back. Her blood pounded through her veins like hot, molten lead and she could feel every tiny ripple of skin around his warm, thrusting penis as it raced madly in and out between her wide-stretched legs. She jerked her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, her heels beating on the hollowing cheeks of his asscheeks like a drum. And then, almost as suddenly as it began, she began a roller coaster of orgasms, one right after another until she felt his cock begin jerking deep down inside her womb and the warm hot spurts of his sperm flooded inside her with the hard driving force of his spending passion.

"God Cindy, that was beautiful," he gasped into her ear, his body still quivering on top of her. Then he was still.

After a few minutes he breathed deeply without saying a word and dismounted her. She lay on the floor still gasping and moaning softly from the utter abandon and power of her quick orgiastic releases. She opened her eyes slightly and watched him as he quickly undressed and strode over to the dressing table. He picked up a large jar of cold cream and returned to kneel down beside her on the floor. He ripped off her bra and began spreading large globs of the cool, sweet smelling mess over her entire body from head to toe. Then he covered himself with it and lay down beside her. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her over on top of him, her back against his chest, her taut, full breasts pointing straight up to the ceiling. He began rubbing the cream over her body, his hands smoothing its thickness over her shoulders, all around the hard throbbing nipples of her tits, and down over her belly and thighs. His teasing fingers were almost driving Erin crazy and her body squirmed uncontrollably on top of him, sliding in the thick coat of cold cream as though she were some wet, slippery eel he was trying to subdue. His hands halted at the Vee of her loins and he gently pulled her thighs apart. Erin, groaned and let them limply slide open, her feet falling to the floor on either side of his. Then his fingers massaged slowly between her legs, pulling at the full, throbbing lips surrounding her pussy and gently easing them open. He coated the soft, hidden flanges of wet flesh heavily with the smooth slippery cream and then slowly inserted his middle finger inside to massage well the pink, inner walls. She moaned from the weird sensations coursing through her and felt the hardness of his cock pressing up against the fleshy crevice of her asscheeks jerk slightly into a beginning erection.

The lust mounted in her with each moment she felt his penis growing against her until finally she could stand the tantalizing ministrations to her body no longer. She squirmed around on top of him and straddled his upper thighs, her knees slithering up onto the floor on either side of his hips. Her wet, cream covered pussy was poised directly above his now fully erect penis and reaching down between their slippery bodies she directed the huge, rounded head straight into the lips of her waiting pussy. She didn't lower her asscheeks immediately but let it prod up between her wide-open loins for a moment, at the same time reaching behind her with both hands to pull the flanges of her pulsating pussy a little wider apart to allow him greater access. She felt him jerk up towards her and then with a tight, gasping groan she screwed her asscheeks hard down against his loins taking the whole of his rigid rock-hard cock deep, deep up in her belly.

"Ooooooooh, Lars! God, ooooooooh, Lars!"

The soft, rounded cheeks of her ass smacked down against the upthrusting pelvis and she felt the giant, pulsating head smash into her cervix like the end of a hard, cruel, battering ram. A flash of blue raced through her brain at the unexpected depths he reached from the position she was in. There was nothing to prevent his total entrance into her wide-open cunt and she groaned like an ancient captive impaled on the sharp pointed spear of a philistine warrior.

"God, baby, you're tight, tight, God how tight," he panted beneath her pained assault and then began a slow grinding up into her. His hips rotated slowly around on the floor, sending the head of his cock into great swirling circles deep up in her belly. Erin groaned, her mouth hanging open in helpless acceptance, her eyes bulging wide until suddenly the whole of her loins became accustomed to the strange, deep invasion that seemed as though it would gouge the very intestines from her. Finally, she grunted and the deep burning passion within her, kindled more by the sudden pain than anything, took hold of her body. She moved slowly at first and then began riding his body like a racing jockey on a wildly sprinting horse. Her pelvis slid uncontrollably in wide, harsh circles against his greased hips, her breasts and belly slipping back and forth over his chest. Like a golden, buttered nymph she rode him until suddenly she felt it rising again inside her. The hot, burning sensation of lust that had to be drowned, drowned in the hot, swirling liquid of the orgasm she could feel bursting upon her. Lars, beneath her churning body, thrust like a madman as far up into her as he could go with each downward stroke of her asscheeks, their creamed bodies slithering hotly together, the sound blending with the wet sucking noise of the lewd coupling of their genitals as they both raced for a fulfillment seconds away.

It came! "Lars! Lars! I'm cumming! Darling, I'm cummmmming!" Hot flashes of red and yellow exploded in her brain as she felt the whole of her white, quivering belly erupt like a thousand roman candles around the hard driving shaft of flesh skewering up into her humping body. At the same time, she heard a harsh guttural cry beneath her and felt his cock begin pumping like a fire hose hot jets of his thick, warm sperm far up into her cunt. Their intermingling juices poured out the tightly clasped lips of her pussy and ran in thin, pearly rivulets down his still spurting prick and disappeared as it churned into the cold cream covering their genitals below by their still wildly gliding bodies. Its musky scent mingled with the sweet smell of the cream, the flowery fragrance of the powder and perfume and the animal odor of male and female sweat.

During the next few weeks Erin had many dates with Lars, most of them spent making love in her room. And when she thought about him during the day, thought about their lovemaking and his captivating mixture of roughness and tenderness, she wondered if she were falling in love with him. At any rate, she found her emotions and life centering around him more and more.

The mystery as to what he did for a living, and how he spent his time when he wasn't with her, at first made her curious; he wouldn't even tell her where he lived. No matter how much she tried to find out about his life, he always cleverly evaded answering her questions. That he might be engaged in some shady dealings occurred to her, especially when she remembered considerate and nice, at least when he was with her, to do anything outside the law. She was still innocent enough to believe that any sort of lawbreaker must be so abnormal, uncouth and tough, that he would be instantly recognizable to her as though he were wearing a sign saying "Danger - Criminal at Work." Finally, however, she decided that she didn't care what he did for a living, as long as he continued seeing her and making love to her.

At the advertising agency she worked hard and continued dating Bill from time to time. She liked being with him though she hadn't as yet slept with him.

One night she was asked to come back to the office after a quick dinner to work. By now she was doing some of the research and as the deadline for the launching of a new campaign was drawing near, almost everyone connected with it had been working overtime. As it grew late that night, however, everyone left, one by one, until finally she, Bill and Stanley, another copywriter, were left.

"I'm really fagged," Stanley yawned. "Let's close up shop for the night." He got up from his desk and stretched. "Come on, Bill. Let's push off."

"You go on, Stan, I just want to finish this piece." He was seated at his desk, busily writing.

"Do you want anything else, Bill?" Erin asked. "If not, I think I'll go. I've finished everything they wanted for tomorrow."

He looked up at her. She was sitting on a corner of his desk, swinging her legs. Her fingers were dirty with carbon, a smudge of ink was on her cheek, her skirt was a mass of wrinkles, but she still looked fresh and lovely. He smiled at her.

"Why don't you wait a minute and I'll drive you home. I'm practically ready to wind up this great piece of literature."

She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "Okay. I could do with a ride." She slipped off the desk and went toward the door. "I'll find something to read," she said.

"Well, goodnight, kids, I'm off. See you tomorrow," Stanley said and left, whistling.

Erin wandered through the offices, picked up a new Playboy from the waiting room and started back to Tom's office. On the way she passed that of Mr. Jackson, the president of the agency. She looked in, switched on the light, saw his big, leather covered chair behind his desk, walked over and sat down. She tilted back the chair and began to read.

"Well I see, we've got a new president," Bill said twenty minutes later. "I must say it's an improvement." He came into the room, carrying a pile of papers.

Erin laughed, put her feet up on the desk and said, "And what can I do for you, young man? Are you looking for a job? I'm afraid the only one we can offer only pays $170,000 a year."

"Won't do. Nothing less than $400,000."

He sat on the edge of the desk, laid down the papers and put his hand on her leg.

"On second thought, maybe I'll take that job. With you as boss maybe I can marry the boss instead of his daughter."

"What presumption, Sir," Erin said with mock horror. "Do you think I'd marry a mere underling?"

"In that case, I'll have to be the boss - and one of his privileges is kissing the hired help." Running his hand up her leg, he stood up and scooped her neatly into his arms. She gave a little shriek which turned into a giggle.

"And is this the new position for giving dictation, boss? Or haven't I even been promoted to being your secretary yet?" She wrapped her arms around his neck as he swung her back and forth.

"With you I'd like to promote a lot more."

"Such as?" she said.

He pretended to drop her and then catch her again; she clutched him more tightly around the neck. He swung her around and put her gently on the desk, then leaned over her as she lay on her back amidst the neatly piled papers, her hair spread out against the dark wood, her arms still around him. His face close to hers, he whispered, "Oh Erin, Erin, you're so beautiful, so beautiful," and put his mouth on her lips. She pulled him closer, revealing her willingness by her eager body and searching lips and tongue, until he swung his hips onto the desk and was lying beside her.

His chest pressed against her DD-cup blue-sweatered breasts, his hands cradling her head, she moved her body, so that their bellies and thighs rubbed against each other. When she felt his hand searching behind her, she arched her back and felt the sudden unloosening of her bra as he unclasped the hook and then the warm pressure of his hand moving beneath the cloth and up over her breast. Sweet longing stirred in her loins as he gently kneaded the pliant mound and stirred the tip to a hard rubbery crest. Breaking their kiss, he helped her take off her sweater. He fell back on top of her, murmuring, "So beautiful, so beautiful," as his lips browsed in the golden hollow of her neck, strayed lightly to her armpit, where he tongued the salty moisture and then licked away, so slowly, so tantalizingly, down her side and up to her breast. She strained against him; her hand rubbed his back and crept under his jacket; bending her knees so her skirt fell back, she wrapped her legs around his, entwining them tightly, their hips moving against each other in a slow dance. Beneath them the papers crackled and slithered to the side. A falling bottle of ink hit the rug with a soft thud.

"What in God's name is going on here!" a voice suddenly bellowed from nowhere.

They became motionless, paralyzed.

"What in the hell are you doing? Get off my desk!"

They turned their heads, eyes wide with surprise and shock. In the doorway stood Mr. Jackson, briefcase in hand, his round face an apoplectic red, his eyes black with anger, his heavy jewels quivering with an uncontrollable rage. One fist clutched around the handle of the briefcase, the knuckles white, he shook the other in the air as he strode toward them, looking as though he wanted to kill them both if he could manage to do so before he had a heart attack.

They quickly jumped off the desk, on the side away from him. Erin snatched her sweater from the floor and held it to her naked breasts, one hand grasping the back of the chair to steady her shaking legs. Bill stood beside her, running a hand through his hair, his face puzzled and shocked, as though he still couldn't believe that this was really happening and not a hideous nightmare. They backed away as Mr. Jackson stomped around the desk after them, roaring and cursing like a bellowing bull.

"You goddamn bastards! How dare you! Here! In my office! Do you think this is a whore house?" He was so furious he seemed almost insane, stuttering and spitting, kicking the desk with his foot and pounding it with his fist to accentuate his words. "What kind of... damnation... you bloody sucking... get the hell out of here!"

They both sidled toward the door, Bill sputtering in his attempt to apologize.

"Shut up!" Mr. Jackson roared. "You, Bill, get the hell out! I'll tend to you tomorrow." He pointed a shaking finger to Erin, "But you stay. I'll talk to you now!" and he brought his fist down on the desk with such force that the telephone jumped and gave a metallic buzz.

"And shut the goddamn door when you leave!" he yelled after Bill's scuttling figure.

Erin backed into a corner behind a chair and stood there trembling. As he stared at her malevolently, grinding his jaws, she realized that she was still clutching the sweater to her bare breasts. She turned her back to him and quickly slipped it on with fumbling fingers. Behind her, she heard him sink down heavily in his chair, wheezing and panting.

She turned around and stood quietly, afraid to look at him or move. In the silence she could hear her heart thudding wildly.

"Now, young lady," he said in a strangely quiet voice. "Just what is the meaning of all this? You're new here aren't you?"

"Yes," she replied in a faint voice. Her one desire was not to irritate him further and to get out as quickly as possible.

"Are you trying to turn this office into your private boudoir?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, I'm sorry... I... we... we were working late and."

"Yes, so I saw. A new way to work overtime."

"No, really. We'd finished working and no one was here and." her words tumbled out.

"Shut up! I don't care if you were really working or not. All I care about is your having the unmitigated, goddamn gall to think you could use this place to carry on your goddamn love affairs and."

"But I..."

"I said 'Shut up'." he roared. "I don't give a damn what you do outside, but this is place of business and not a strip joint for every tart who gets the urge to take her clothes off!"

Head lowered, she looked up at him under her lashes, wondering why he simply didn't tell her to get out as he had Bill. His face was beet-red, mottled with angry purple patches; fringed with wisps of grey hair, even his bald head was a bright pink. He spat the words out between tightly clamped jaws; on the desk his hands were interlocked, the fingers nervously clenching and unclenching. Realizing that she was alone with him in the empty building, she began to feel afraid, for his anger and appearance were not that of a normal man; she began to perspire nervously under her clothes. She glanced toward the door and began edging toward it, moving sideways, inching slowly, afraid he would notice her movements.

"Where in hell do you think you're going?" he screamed, and sprang to his feet, moving with surprising quickness. She darted to the door but her perspiring hands slid fruitlessly on the metal cockhead and before she could get it open, he was there, his hand seizing her arm and roughly wrenching her away. He flung her back into the room. Her heel caught on the edge of the rug. She staggered and fell awkwardly to the floor. Tears came to her eyes and she began to sob. She heard the key turn in the lock and a tight knock of despairing fear turned in her stomach.

She heard a snort of evil laughter and then the sharp rasp of a match and smelled the tang of cigar smoke; she cried out as the tossed match burned through her stocking, stinging her leg, and cried out more loudly when his foot kicked her thigh. Through her tears she could see his heavy brown shoes planted solidly a few inches from her face. Afraid he would kick her again, she lay quietly, only her chest heaving as she tried to stifle her sobs.

He laughed loudly.

"Well, well, well, so the little bitch is afraid." He prodded her with his foot. "Come on," he said angrily. "Cut out the act and get up. You wanted to use that plump ass of yours tonight so you might as well at least sit on it."

She started to get up, watching his feet warily. Sudden pain pierced through her as he grabbed her long hair and roughly dragged her to her feet. She screamed, her mouth a large "O" of smudged lipstick but the sharp flick of his hand across her face closed her lips and a wave of dizziness flooded through her. She stumbled backward, landing heavily in a chair. As she began to faint she heard, as from a great distance through layer upon layer of cotton wool, his hysterical laugh, ending in a series of loud hiccoughs. He picked up a decanter of water from a side table and splashed it over her face, drenched her sweater and skirt and it dripped from the ends of her sodden hair, now hanging in soft ringlets about her tear stained face. But it brought her to her senses. Even though she was still afraid, she began to get angry.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she screamed at him and started to get out of her chair. He twisted her arm behind her and threw her back into it. Biting and kicking blindly, she yelled through her sobs, choking on tears, "Stop it! What are you doing? Why? Let me go, you bastard! Let me go!"

But he held her firmly, chuckling all the while, until finally she collapsed into the chair, weak and exhausted.

"Fighting little bitch, aren't you." He stepped back, drawing casually on his cigar, and regarded her. His eyes were cold and hard, the pupils small and steely-black. A muscle in his cheek twitched spasmodically.

"So you want to know what this is all about, heh?" He walked behind her and put his hand on the nape of her neck. "Well, I'll tell you, though God knows why. You've certainly had rougher treatment than this in your whoring life."

"But I'm not a..." she cried.

"Shut up!" he shouted. "I've seen you twitching that ass around here, pointing those knockers under everyone's nose, sash-shaying around like a bitch in heat."

"But I haven't."

He jerked her hair. She groomed and fell silent.

"And I've wanted you ever since you first waggled into here, you God damn cunt, but...."

His hand loosened on her hair and she heard his heavy step behind her, pacing restlessly back and forth.

"But you see, I." his voice was suddenly quiet, almost apologetic. "God knows why I'm telling you this, you stupid bitch, but I've lusted after you so damn much and." His voice went on, now sounding almost tearful, hopeless, "And well, I haven't been able to get an erection for years."

She drew in her breath sharply.

"Look, I'm sorry. I go out of my mind sometimes when I realize I can't..." he paused. "Look, take off your clothes for me, will you, and just let me look at you?" he pleaded.

She suddenly felt sorry for him. But she also wanted to get out as soon as possible and, thinking he'd surely let her go peacefully if she submitted to his request, she got up and quietly started taking off her clothes, fumbling at her skirt zipper, keeping her head bent so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"You can keep your stockings and shoes on," he said in a low, tense voice.

When she had undressed, she stood quietly, demurely.

"Now walk around," he whispered, "and hold your head up."

She had walked slowly about the room, feeling his eyes devouring her flesh. Self-conscious and ill at ease, at first she walked awkwardly, as if each muscle was attached to a string he was holding in his clenched hand and jerking at his command. But in the silence she gradually relaxed. Under the firm skin of her tanned asscheeks the muscles rippled smoothly; her pointed breasts jiggled up and down, their nipples bobbing like small pink corks; her thighs brushed against each other with a faint sucking sound, their fullness downy with a fine golden fuzz end marred only by the large purple bruise where he had kicked her.

She looked up. He was sitting in the chair, one hand holding the cigar, breathing heavily between thick, parted lips, his eyes glazed and half closed, staring fixedly at her pussy which swelled out under her belly like a half-moon, framed by the thin strip of her black garter-belt and the elastics which stretched to the stockings whose edges hugged her thighs so tightly that the flesh bulged out above in a thin narrow roll.

Still staring, he put his hands on the arms of the chair and half rose while a thick, whimpering growl rumbled in his throat. She stopped, paralyzed, as she saw a crazed haze filming his eyes. As he got up and lunged toward her, growling drunkenly, she turned and ran toward the door. It was locked. She turned around, side-stepped his clawing hands and fled around the desk, too terrified to scream or to shout. Rounding a corner, her heel caught in the telephone cord and she fell to the floor. On her hands and knees she crawled frantically under the desk. His hands seized her by the hips and pulled roughly back and upward until his mouth was buried between her wildly thrashing legs, chewing and sucking deeply, a low, animal moan rumbling deep in his throat. His cigar was still in his hand and its red-hot coal burned into her buttock. Upside down, she screamed and fought. But he held her strongly, his nails tearing into the flesh of her cunt. Violently she beat her heels against him until finally he dropped her, snarling with fury. He snatched a ruler from the desk and began beating her; its sharp edge lacerated her back and hips into a bleeding mess. He fell on top of her and they rolled and fought like two wrestlers. His clothes protected him from her flailing fists and digging nails while her unprotected nude body was soon covered with long, bloody scratches and swollen bruises, yellow, purple, black.

"Bitch, whore," he hissed at her all during their violent struggle until Erin could fight no more. The pain had drained all the strength from her and her body suddenly stilled, soft to be turned and twisted as he desired.

Sensing her sudden surrender, the snarling old man rolled her violently over on her back and straddled her stomach. She could feel the rising hardness of his penis pushing up into her heaving breasts through the thick, rough material of his trousers and closed her eyes, her head rolling almost lifelessly to one side.

"Now, bitch," he rasped down at her in a wheezing, panting voice, "I'll teach you to walk around this office like a rotten whore. You're going to show me what you've been doing for all these other young bucks that I've seen looking at you with their tongues hanging out right here in my office."

In the dim haze of her half-consciousness she could hear again the now familiar sound of a zipper being ripped down in haste and then the wet underside of a long thick and hot prick of flesh lying all the way across her naked breasts. It was a long cock indeed. Strange, she dreamed as though in coma, strange how it moves like a heart beat against me. She could feel it palpitating as though it had a life of its own apart from the vicious old man it was attached to.

Then... suddenly he reached down and tangling his hand in her soft, blond hair, jerked her head up off the floor. At the same time she could feel him shuffling forward slightly on her torso until the thin, fleshless bones of his asscheeks were cutting excruciatingly into the firm, fullness of her breasts. She groaned in pain as they were smashed cruelly into her chest from his weight and found her eyes looking straight up into his monstrous, exposed 10-inch penis. Huge and white, it reared out over her breasts toward her face with the naked blue veins criss-crossing obscenely underneath it. Its thickness was as intimidating as its length, and probably would be as painful to accommodate, too.

"Suck it, bitch," he snarled down at her, a vicious gleam of hate sparkling in his eyes.

Her head was forced up harder and she almost became sick as he pressed his cock hard against her tightly clenched lips. She could feel the warm, sticky fluid that had seeped from the tip in his excitement covering her lips and she smelled the hot, pungent odor of it. His other hand dropped and reached down under his asscheeks and his fingernails dug harshly into her left breast.

"Open your mouth, and wide," he grinned vilely as he spat the words down at her. His nails dug hard into her breast and her mouth gaped open at the pain. He jerked her head forward again until it felt as though he was ripping the hair from her head by the roots. And then... the monstrous cock filled her mouth, almost choking her as it pressed against her soft palate and gorged all the way back to her tonsils. She gagged and her stomach heaved; she groaned, her eyes closed, with the horrible thing throbbing urgently in her mouth.

"Suck - Lick!" he grunted, twining his fingers more cruelly into her hair and jerking her head up and down.

Helplessly, her mouth moved up and down on the great prick.

Oh God, the thoughts ran through her tortured mind, perhaps if I make him have an orgasm, he'll leave it at that and let me go. Suck, Suck... Lick... Lick... harder... cum... please cum! Please cum... and let me go... the words raced like wildfire through her pained and humiliated thoughts as she sucked like a hungry child feeding at its mother's breast to end her misery.

As she sucked, the huge 10-inch cock pulsed in the soft wetness of her slaving mouth. There was a stale, musty taste on her tongue and the back of her throat.

Oh God... how long... how much longer? her mind chanted over and over again, her head hurting with the constant pull on her hair as he pumped it up and down. She wanted with all her soul for it to end and yet she didn't. The horrible, obscene thought of his lewd sperm cascading down her throat and into her stomach sickened her and she vowed she would jerk her mouth away at the last minute to avoid this intimate humiliation. She just couldn't let him have the satisfaction of looking down on her helpless face while he throbbed his vicious, wet sperm down into her mouth... she just couldn't bear it to give this dirty, old man that final stroke of pleasure.

But the passion-crazed Jackson was not to he denied and he fucked in and out of her mouth like an avenging angel of doom, spitting obscenities down at the top of her bobbing head as though she were a slave.

"Suck it, bitch, use your tongue, swirl it around... there... that's it... lick harder... I'm-I'm cummmming, I'm cummmmmming!"

And before Erin could jerk her head away she felt the huge throbbing cock fucking into her mouth expanding like a giant balloon and his steel-like hands clamping vice-like on either side of her head, freezing her in that position. And then it exploded, the hot, sticky sperm filling her mouth in great powerful spurts that bloated her cheeks out wide as though her mouth were filled with air. She had to swallow to keep from choking as more and more of the lewd orgasm of the groaning old man above her cascaded hotly into her mouth. Her Adams-apple raced crazily up and down her tender white throat in a crazy rhythm of desperate gasping sounds that thundered wetly through the room as though nothing else in the world existed. He shot over fifteen long ropes of cum down her gullet, half of which she chokes up onto her swaying, sweating breasts.

And for Erin, it didn't. She lay limply beneath him after it was au over, feeling his long thin penis deflating slowly in her mouth. She swallowed once or twice more in order to breathe and then felt his body lifting from her tortured chest. The prick slipped wetly from her lips, leaving a thin trail of sticky sperm following it across the fullness of her naked breasts. She heard him chuckle once and then collapse to the floor close to her, his breath coming in short satiated gasps. She lay there for a few minutes, at first too afraid to move. But as he continued his panting and weaving and made no sign of movement, she cautiously moved her pain-racked body and crawled over to where her clothes were scattered on the rug. Dragging them behind her, she inched toward the door, picking up the key from where it had fallen. She lifted herself up on one elbow and slipped the key into the lock. He was still lying there, panting and muttering unintelligibly to himself, his words almost indistinguishable, ramming together into a crazed, dull monotone. She clawed the door open and crawled through. Exhausted, she lay motionless on the floor of the outer office until the fear that he might come after her drove her to her feet. Clutching the wall for support, she staggered down the hall, threw her coat around her nude body and stumbled down the steps.

When Erin finally got home a day later she fell into bed and stayed there for two days. Upon leaving Mr. Jackson she had climbed into a taxi and immediately fainted before she could give the driver her address. He had taken one horrified look at her battered face and driven her to the hospital. There they had taken care of her lacerations, stitched up the worst one and put her to bed. She had refused to tell them what had happened to her, and they finally dismissed her from the hospital, warning her to take it easy for a few days.

While lying in bed, her body tender and aching, her scratches now long lines of dark red scabs, her bruises making her flesh look like rotten eggplant, she wondered what to do next. To return to the advertising agency was impossible. And how would she ever explain what had happened? She was even afraid that Bill, missing her at the office, might come over to her room.

Rent day was fast approaching and she had no money; she had left her purse at the office, not that it made such difference, as there wasn't much money in it, anyway.

She crawled painfully out of her bed and got her piggy bank from the top of her bureau. With the heel of her shoe she smashed it and carefully counted up the $12.54 it contained. She obviously needed money and fast; at least until she was in condition again to start looking for a job. But the problem was to whom was she to go for help? She didn't dare write her parents for that would entail impossible explanations. She ruled out her aunt for the same reason.

Finally, she decided to go to Lars. To him she could tell her story and, believing that he loved her just as much as she loved him, she was certain he would help her. However, she wasn't sure how to find him; he had always called her to make a date which they had spent either in public places or in her own room. He had never taken her to his own apartment nor even told her the address. Well, then she would go back to the "960 Club" where they had gone several times; she remembered his saying once that he was usually there about seven o'clock every evening.

Late the next afternoon she got up, dressed, tried to cover her bruised face and swollen black eye with powder and make up, and took the bus to south State Street. There was a sprinkling of men and women in the bar and the strippers were hard at work. She went back-stage, ignoring the whistles and derisive remarks about her black eye, and asked for Rock. Rock was in her dressing room, seated before the mirror, gluing on a pair of false eyelashes. When Erin came in, she turned and stared.

"My Gawd, honey," she exclaimed, "what happened to you? Did you fall down a manhole and swim through the sewers or what?"

"No, I... it was just an accident."

"Yes, I should think so. Hardly something one would do deliberately, dearie." She patted the chair next her, "Here, sit down. That is, if your tail doesn't look like your face."

She reached under the table, purled out a couple of glasses and a half-empty bottle.

"Here, how about a drink. Nothing like a little gin to cure a black eye."

"Thanks, Rock," Erin said. "I do look awful, don't I?" She sighed, peering in the mirror at her swollen, purple and yellow face.

"Honey, if you were any more bruised up I could sell you to the butcher. Now what happened?"

"Well, just one of those things. Really, if you don't mind, I'd rather not explain." She smiled at her. "I'd rather just forget the whole thing."

"Okay, honey. Your privilege. But have some more gin, anyway." She turned back to the mirror and picked up the other fringe of eyelash.

"Has Lars been around here lately?" Erin asked.

"Lars? Yeah, he's in here every night about this time. He'll probably be along soon. Why? Want him to heat the guy up?"

Erin laughed. "No, just like to see him."

"I'll go out front and tell Joe to send him back when he shows. You stay here and take it easy." She got up and left, leaving behind her the scent of a musky perfume.

A few minutes later she put her head in the door.

"Joe'll send him back, honey. I've got to go out and entertain the jerks." She smiled at her. "Don't fall off the chair and break your skull. And help yourself to the cat-brew."

Twenty minutes afterwards Lars hurried into the room. Without saying a word he pulled her up and held her in his arms, kissed her tenderly, and touched her bruised face with a gentle finger.

She buried her head on his shoulder and began crying softly. "Oh, Lars darling. I'm so glad to see you. It was so awful." He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

"Kid, you've really had it. Who did it?"

She told him the story, explained her financial status and asked him if he could lend her some money until she could find another job.

"Sure, baby. I'll take care of you. Don't worry about a thing. And don't worry about paying me back yet. There's no rush, honey."

He kissed her as she began to thank him.

"Now lay off the thanks-routine, baby. I'll help you all I can."

When she had quieted down, he added, "Stay here awhile. I've got to see some cats out front and then we'll go out for a couple steaks. And tomorrow we'll see about finding you another pad - just in case your buddy comes around."

He filled up her glass with gin, took a big drink and left.

During the next week while her bruises were gradually disappearing, Lars helped her find another place to stay, an apartment much nicer than her old one. When she protested that she probably wouldn't be able to afford it, even after she had found a job, he urged her to take it anyway, saying, "I'm taking care of you, remember? I'll make up the difference, baby, until you can swing it yourself." Then he gave her some money to buy some new clothes, "To cheer you up and besides, you'll need them for your new job." Thus, she felt reassured and happy that Lars was the one who was helping her, for she interpreted his generosity as proof that he loved her as much as she discovered she loved him. And for him, she thought, I'd do just anything, anything at all. With Lars providing money for all her needs, she found it more than easy to put off looking for a job. Finally, however, she mentally added up all the money he had given her, both directly and indirectly in gifts and, horrified at the total, resolved that she would begin looking for a job so she could start paying him back.

But that night Lars came over. Before going out they climbed into the bed to roll a quick one. Afterwards they lay quietly and had a cigarette.

"Cindy, baby, I hate to spoil the ball we've been having, but I'm getting kind of low on dough. I owe some to a guy and he's really snapping at my ass."

"I'm sorry, darling," she said apologetically. "I was adding up today how much I owe you and decided to start looking for a job tomorrow. But I wasn't going to tell you until I'd found one and surprise you. Really, you've been marvelous and I do want to start paying you back. I'll take just any job I can find."

"Jobs are pretty hard to find, though. You know, it's stupid of you to slave away at a joint like that agency and drag down such damn little loot. 'Specially with your looks."

"I know. I hate the thought of another job like that. And I'd hate to go back to a dingy one-room hole. But I'm not really qualified to do much better."

"Yeah, that's a problem. Wouldn't give you enough money to live it up, buy glad-rags, take a swell vacation - just work eight hours a day for nothing."

"Oh, Lars," she wailed, "you make it sound awful!"

"Well baby, I've been thinking." He paused and lit another cigarette.

"Yess?"

"You could do a lot better than just another job. And make a lot more money."

She waited, not saying anything.

"Look, I really need some dough, but fast. It so happens that we can make seventy-five bucks right off - in fact, tomorrow night."

"Really? How?"

"It's like this. I was at the Club the other day and this cat I know comes up and says he's arranging for some clambake for a convention that's in town. He needs a couple of girls and says he'll pay 'em seventy-five bucks - now don't look so startled. All he wants 'em for is to be carried in on some platters, or God knows what, to decorate the joint and liven things up. That's all you'd have to do. I thought of you right away."

"$175 dollars just for that?"

"Well, of course, you'd have to be almost nude."

"Nude!"

"Now come off it, honey. You know damn well you'd love to have that beautiful young body of yours stared at."

He smiled at her. "You'd be doing me a real big favor, kid. Come on. Then I can pay this guy off."

"Well, I don't know," she said slowly. "I do want to help you, Lars, really I do... but... well... nude."

He just looked at her.

"All right, Lars. I'll do it. If you're sure it's okay."

"That's my baby! I knew I could count on you!"

He gave her a kiss and slightly slapped her rump.

"I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" He reached over to his coat hanging on the back of a chair near the bed and pulled out a cigarette case from the inside pocket.

"Here, baby, try one of these." He snapped the lid up. Inside lay several cigarettes, normal looking except that they were much thinner, almost half as slim as a regular one.

She picked one out and looked at it curiously. "What funny cigarettes. What are they?"

"Joints."

"Joints?"

"Yeah. Pot."

"Pot? What's pot?"

"Marijuana, baby, the greatest"

"Marijuana? You mean dope?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Dirty dope. Come on, baby. Try it." He struck a match and lit them up.

She reluctantly took a drag. "They're sort of sweet."

"Yeah. But you gotta really draw it in. Like this." He lay back, his eyes closed and took a huge drag, holding it down for a long time.

She lay back and imitated him. Soon her cheeks grew warm and her eyes felt strange; she closed them and took another drag, holding it down as long as she could. With this, her first marijuana cigarette, she at first was slightly nauseous, but then the sensation passed and she began to feel completely relaxed and at peace with the world, her body light and buoyant.

Lars' hand, which had been lying on her stomach, moved slowly downward until his fingers reached the waiting lips of her pussy.

Erin shifted her position. The lettuce leaves tickled her. Through the closed swinging doors filtered a discordant blare of men's voices, some talking loudly, some laughing, some singing, which swelled into an ear-splitting roar each time the doors swung open to admit a hurrying waiter.

A fat, round-faced man, chewing on a dead cigar, came bustling through the door.

"You babes ready? You're on in a few minutes. Now come on!" he said, snapping his fingers. "Come on now. Give the boys a big smile!" He bounced down the line of girls arrayed on platters. "Hey, Hank, damn it, come here! Take some of these damn French Fries off. They're covering up her cunt too damn much!"

"This is the corniest deal I've ever seen!" a girl ahead of Erin said disgustedly. "Goddamn shrimps yet! And you can't even eat the damn things." She was sitting cross legged on a huge silver platter, shrimp made of paper piled up to her waist. Above the mound rose her torso, her bare breasts large and heavy, shaking like two tremendous bowls of Jello as she shrugged her shoulders and then flipped away her cigarette.

"Yeah, these jerks have the imaginations of toadstools." On another platter stood a majestic looking cake, in the middle of which sat a willowy girl, nude except for a long mane of black hair and a narrow ribbon, set low around her hips which read in large red letters, "The Roto-Flex Sewer Cleaning Corp. - Keeps Your Sewers Free!"

"Hey, you," the man yelled, "get back in that cake. We're ready to go on."

"Keep your fly buttoned, buddy," she said. She snuggled down inside the paper cake and a waiter put the top couple of layers over her head. Through the paper her muffled voice, "Jeez. I've had to pop out so many damn cakes I've got candles growin' in my ears."

"Yeah, but at least you're dry. God, I'll be stinkin' for weeks," said a red-head sitting in a tremendous bowl of orange colored punch, her pear-shaped breasts floating and bobbing on the surface. "I hope someone here knows life-saving."

The girl in front of Erin twisted around in her fake lobster shell and winked at her. On her head was a cap made to look like a lobster's head, the feelers waving around like three-foot radio aerials. "You new in this game? You look a little jittery," she said.

"A little," Erin said. She was lying on her side on a platter of lettuce leaves, a large green leaf draped over her mound like a G-string.

"Okay, gals, here we go! A great big smile now!"

Four waiters picked up the platter of shrimp, resting it on their shoulders, and disappeared through the door. A tremendous outburst of cheering, stamping and whistling surged through the door. Shortly thereafter, the French Fries and the lobster followed and then Erin on her bed of lettuce. Trying to see through the haze of smoke, she smiled grimly as the platter swayed down the aisle towards the head table which was set on a raised platform, the other tables branching out in a big horseshoe. On each side men stood on their chairs to get a better look, laughed and shouted, reached out their hands to touch her; one man, his eyes glazed with liquor, his tie half-off, tired to climb over the table and fell flat on his face, broken glass and crockery flying in all directions. Behind her Erin saw the red-head gaily waving to the men from her bowl of punch and tossing orange peels at them. The platters were set down in a row on the head table. Looking over the crowd, all she could see was a nightmarish sea of waving arms, shouting mouths and lustful beady eyes. By the time the black haired girl had popped out of her cake and was striding up and down on top of the table, hand on her hips, her breasts jiggling, her asscheeks twitching in a sexy way; the room was in pandemonium.

As she had been instructed, Erin got up from her platter and warily strutted over the tops of the tables; hands and arms waved around her like the tentacles of a dozen octopi.

"Me WANT that lobster!" someone shouted.

"Hey, Oskar, how about some fuckin' salad?" A drunken face leered up at her, his hands snatching at the leaf covering her pubic mound.

"Yeah, man, off with the leaf!"

A chair crashed and someone screamed. She glanced behind her and saw the red-head trying to climb out of the bowl; orange punch trickled down her body, dripped from her breasts and ran wetly down her thighs while she struggled with a man who had fallen half-way into the bowl, one arm submerged, the other circling her leg. The white tablecloth turned orange as the punch slowly spread outward. A plate of melted ice cream flew through the air and caught the lobster girl in the stomach. She staggered as the chocolate oozed down her belly and over her legs and she toppled backward to disappear in a clump of clawing arms. At the same time she felt the leaf being torn away and a rough hand seized her by the crotch and pulled her forward. She fell over, headfirst, and landed on top of someone. They both crashed to the floor and a dozen hands were on her. As she kicked and screamed, she heard someone shouting above the din and saw a burly, ginger-haired fellow trying to pull the men off of her.

"Stop, you bastards! You'll kill her!" He jerked one of them up and gave him a swift punch in the jaw and reached down and dragged another one up. She slithered out from under a man who had fallen on top of her in a sudden drunken heap, leaped to her feet and ran through the door into the kitchen. There she collapsed against a table. Someone shoved a glass of whiskey in her hand. Behind her the waiters were guarding the door and bringing in the other girls one by one, each more disheveled than the last.

Cursing all men, they went off to a back room, got dressed and returned to the kitchen. The man who had hired them was there, wiping the back of his neck with a handkerchief. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, it's all in the game, girls. You can't say you didn't get paid well."

He signaled to Erin and the black-haired girl who had been in the cake.

"There's a couple of the boys would like to meet you two." He laughed. "More than a couple, but these two asked me to give you this." He handed them a note. They opened it and read: "Hope you're okay. How about skipping this brawl and going out on the town? Fred and Pat."

The girl looked at Erin, shrugged her shoulders and said, "Sure, what've we got to loose? Okay by me. I can't handle fifty, but I sure as hell can handle one."

Erin hesitated. "Yes, I guess so."

Turning to the man, the girl said, "You tell 'em we'll meet 'em out front. I'm not going out there with those drunken apes again." She turned to Erin. "Come on, sugar, let's blow this joint."

They got their coats, left by a back entrance, walked around to the front of the building and entered the lobby.

"My name's 'Honey'," she said, "what's yours, sugar?"

"Erin."

"We've probably got a long night ahead of us. We'd better hit 'em for the same thing. What do you think they'll go for?"

"What?"

"What do you think they're worth? What's the matter? You new in this game? You look pretty green at that."

"Yes, I guess so. This is the first time I've been out like this."

"Jeez! Honey always draws 'em!" She sighed. "Well don't worry, kid. We're all in it together and for the same thing. But for God's sake don't act green and spoil our pitch. You couldn't have gotten this far without somethin' between your legs besides a Tampax."

Honey opened her purse, took out her compact and dabbed at her nose.

"I'll figure they'll go for at least hundred. Watch me and I'll give you the tip-off."

"Hundred dollars? A piece?" Erin exclaimed.

She snapped her compact shut. "What did you think? Fifty cents? Jeez, sugar, where you been all your life?"

She took out a comb and ran it through her black hair. "Maybe more. Look, when I get up and go to the can, come with me and we'll talk it over." She looked down the hall. "This looks like it might be our mighty heroes now. At least they don't have white hair and aren't crawlin' on their knees."

As Erin watched the two men approach, she grew more and more nervous. When she had read the note, it had never occurred to her then that going out with them would entail more than having a couple of drinks at some bar or nightclub. It was only when Honey had mentioned the $175 dollars that she realized they wanted more than a few sociable drinks with her. At first she had almost backed out on the deal, but then she thought how surprised and pleased Lars would be if she returned with an extra hundred. They went to a nightclub. After a couple of dances with Fred, Honey said she was going to powder her nose, so Erin got up and followed her to the Ladies' Room.

"How you comin' with your Joe, sugar? He said anything yet?" Honey said.

"You mean about tonight?"

"Natch."

"Well, he's hinted around at it, but nothing direct."

"You'll soon learn to make 'em lay it on the line," Honey said. "No use screwin' around if they aren't goin' to shell out. Anyway, it's all set. They want to do it together, so I told 'em it'd be 175 bucks."

"175? Really?"

"Yeah. You game to do it together?"

"You mean in the same room?"

"Natch."

"Why, yes, I guess so," Erin said hesitantly, a cloud of doubt and dread coming through her mind. She had never expected things to reach this stage and just hoped against hope that she could go through with the arrangement. She just couldn't go home to Lars like this with no money and if she were careful in what she said, he would never know how she really got it.

"There's a hotel where I work a lot a couple of blocks from here. We'll get a kick-back from the manager if we take them there. That'll be another five bucks."

"A-All right," Erin forced herself to smile. She wished with all her heart there were some other way to do this but she had gone too far now to back out. Besides, one time wouldn't hurt and she could explain to Lars that they had been given an extra big tip from the other job.

"Look, kid," she could hear Honey saying through her thoughts. "Just play it cool. Those aren't exactly in the prime of life, so if we play around a bit and wear 'em out, they're already so stoned they won't be good for more than one time around. Okay?"

Erin nodded her head in agreement and Honey took them in a cab to the hotel she had mentioned earlier. They rented two adjoining rooms and then all moved into one of them. Pat, the guy that had taken a liking to Erin, had a bottle of Scotch and rang down for some ice. Erin drank hers quickly in spite of the disapproving look from Honey when the men had prepared the drinks. She had to have some kind of fortification if she were going to go through with this ordeal. Making love in private was one thing, but with other people watching, that was something different. Pat was delighted to see her drinking so heavily.

"Hey, I think I got a hot one here, ole buddy," he said loudly to the other ruddy complexioned man. "Look at 'er swill that stuff down."

It felt good and she quickly drank another, feeling her inhibitions lessening with each further drink. The men were delighted and it wasn't long before they were stripping the girls of their clothing and pulling their own off at the same time. By this time, Erin was feeling no pain. The alcohol had done its job and she shifted her position with each further piece of clothing that Pat stripped from her to aid his fumbling hands. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the man with Honey peeled her clothes from her body at the same time. She was surprised to see that the girl was still built so solid and well after the time she had been in the business. She was well rounded and firm in all the critical spots and did not sag at all like some of the strippers Erin had seen in the club Mike had taken her to.

When she was completely naked, Pat pushed her to one of the single beds and she let herself fall back without resistance into the softness of the mattress while he finished stripping his remaining clothing away.

She looked to the other bed and gasped slightly to see that the other man had wasted no time. He had pried Honey's willing legs open and was poised on his hands over her body. His long thick 11-inch cock hanging down between them caused Erin to shift her body nervously down against the mattress. She had never seen one so huge. It was absolutely monstrous and she was glad Pat had chosen tonight. She didn't know if she could have taken the other man inside her without being split wide open. Pat joined her on the bed and curled his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

"Let's watch ole Fred give it to your girlfriend first, shall we baby?"

Erin nodded her head, feeling his hand close over her breast. She was surprised as suddenly how nice it felt with this complete stranger.

"Ooooooooh, Daddy, take it easy," Honey groaned as Erin saw the huge, thick 11-inch sliding slowly down into her girlfriend's pussy. She gasped as she watched the tight pink lips of her cunt being stretched wide, wide apart and Honey kicking her legs out wider to open her loins more for the giant entry. It stopped for a moment, about halfway in, as though it could force its way no farther and Erin held her breath, squirming her body back against the man lying next to her in her sudden excitement at the obscene but captivating sight going on right next to them. Far away memories of the bull in the pen flickered through her mind as she saw suddenly the back muscles of the man fucking Honey tense, and a hoarse moan of passion ripple from deep in his chest and then with one mighty lunge he speared his white prick of flesh all the way down to the thick pulsating base between the widespread legs of the quivering girl beneath him.

"Oooooooooh," Honey groaned and her legs splayed out wide on either side of the man's body, her feet quivered in the air out over the edge of the bed, her toes curling and uncurling without control. His balls smacked sharply against the tiny, puckered hole of her ass. She screamed softly, the sound muffled by his shoulder pressing into her mouth. Erin's eyes gaped open wide as then he began a slow thrusting in and out movement, a soft, wet, sucking sound drifting across the distance from their moist sexual coupling. She found herself clenching her own thighs tightly together in a vain attempt to still the slow, but quickening throbs that were beginning deep in her own belly. The man behind her pressed closer into her back and she could feel his hard pulsating flesh growing back between the soft warm cheeks of her asscheeks. His hands were around in front of her now and cupping the full resilient mounds of her pulsating breasts. He had the tiny, bud-like nipples rolled softly between his thumb and forefinger and was tweaking them gently in rhythm to the movements of the man fucking her girlfriend on the squeaking bed next to them. Her body trembled and quivered as she felt him begin to move behind her, insinuating the hardness of his cock slowly along the tight crevice of her asscheeks and up between her thighs from behind. It was a strange, almost unreal sensation to feel the thick shaft of flesh crawling like an unseen snake between her tightly pressed legs.

"Relax, baby, and open 'em," the man whispered into her ear as she kept her eyes straight ahead, locked on the lewd spectacle taking place in front of her. The man fucking Honey had increased his speed to an almost desperate rate now and Erin could see with a vivid, sensual clarity, the tight pink lips clasped tightly around his cock as they pulled out with his withdrawal as though they didn't want to let go of the magic plunging instrument and then as they disappeared inside again with each hard, almost brutal instroke. The thin, black forest of her pubic hair was wet and matted between her legs from the moistness of the juices flowing between them and the man's cock glistened wet and sensuously from the light of the single uncovered bulb hanging from the ceiling of the cheap hotel room.

Erin trembled again and her body felt hot and uncomfortable as though she itched from head to foot and could not control the movements of her asscheeks and pelvis that squirmed and writhed back against the hot, fleshy belly of the man teasing her from behind.

"Crawl up on your knees, baby," he said hotly through the mass of her long, blond hair pressed against his face. And Erin did, quickly and with relief. She was beyond all control now and had to have something inside her or go completely out of her mind.

She moved quickly, rolling on her stomach and rising on all fours, making certain her head was pointing toward the lewd, writhing bodies entwined like snakes on the bed next to them. The man moved around behind her and rose up to kneel between her thighs, pushing them open wide with his own knees to allow him to move right up to the naked plane of her white, soft asscheeks waving invitingly back at him.

There were no preliminaries, and none were needed. The whole of Erin's loins were wet and open now from the sensual impact of watching the other couple's violent intercourse on the next bed. The man shuffled forward behind her and with both hands kneading and cupping the twin ivory globes of her asscheeks, spread them wide apart. She groaned in uncontrollable impatience and thrusting her hand down underneath her body between her widespread legs she grasped the thickness of his cock and guided the giant pulsating head straight toward the open wet lips of her cunt. She moved it up and down quickly in the warm, pink slit between her thighs, parting the soft, blond pubic hair that covered the tender, protective folds of flesh and then screwing her asscheeks back on it to impale herself on the first full inch of it. She groaned and pleaded, as she knelt before the utter stranger who had bought her body for the evening's pleasure, like a demented nymphomaniac. The hot licking fire roaring between her wet throbbing loins had to be quenched.

"God, what an ass," she heard the man behind her mumbling crazily to himself. And then she went mad with the cruel uncontrollable desire licking through her.

"Go on! Go on, goddammit!... Fuck me... Ooooooooooh, fuck me like he's doing it to her." Her eyes were still glued to the long, thick shaft of flesh burying itself in hard, deep thrusts between Honey's jerking thighs.

"Aaaaaaghhhh!" she screamed, half in pain, half in relief, as the man behind her suddenly rammed forward with all his strength and plunged his 11-incher far, far up into her quivering belly. She could feel the flesh of the inside of her cunt being pushed in giant, undulating waves before the tunneling entrance of the monstrous and unstoppable instrument plunging without mercy deep up inside her.

"Ooooh, baby, you got a tight little pussy," he droned behind her as without waiting he began a series of long hard strokes into her kneeling body that caused her breasts to dance and jiggle Beneath her chest as though they were alive. She grunted and churned back against him with each hard, driving lunge, her face contorted into a strained mask of undisguised passion that matched the wet, sucking sounds like someone walking in quicksand that came from behind her wildly squirming asscheeks.

It took but a moment until she felt herself erupting inside like a giant explosion rolling across the earth. At the same time, she could feel his hot, white, sperm flooding into the flowering recess of her belly, filling her womb almost to the bursting point. The ruddy skinned man fucking Honey suddenly groaned too, and Erin, still throbbing out her own passion around the spurting prick of flesh sunk deep in her own belly could see him sink his huge, white cock deep down between her girlfriend's legs and his asscheeks begin jerking as though he were attached to an electric wire. Thick rivulets of white sticky cum bubbled out around his tight, flesh clasped instrument and rolled down Honey's asscheeks to the sheet below.

It ended for all of them at the same wild instantaneous moment and Erin jerked forward and fell flat down on her stomach, dragging the still connected man who had fucked her from behind down with her. She could still feel slight dribbles of sperm emptying into her from his deflating penis though his arms and body lay lifeless and spent on top of her back.

Later, the girls dressed and left the men passed out on the bed. Erin felt horrible about the way she had let her body run away with her with that strange man who had paid her for her services, thereby labeling her a prostitute. She tired not to show it to Honey and accepted silently the additional five dollars she collected for their "kickback" when they left the hotel. She waved good-bye to her at the entrance to the hotel and flagged a taxi. One thing she made up her mind to do, even though she knew it would be hard, and that was to tell Lars what had happened. He was certain to find out as Honey would undoubtedly mention it to someone he knew. She just hoped against hope, that she wouldn't mention the fact that Erin had actually let herself get carried away. She could never as long as she lived admit to Lars that she had enjoyed it with a total stranger that way.

Lars was waiting for her when she arrived home. After telling him about the evening, she thought at first that he was angry because she had agreed to make love with a man for money, thus making her a prostitute in his eyes.

"But I only agreed, Lars, darling, because I wanted to bring back the extra money for you."

"Look, baby, I'm not putting you down because of that. Let's get this straight! The only thing that bugs me is that you didn't have the sense to take him for more."

She looked at him, shocked and unbelieving.

"My God, Cindy," he went on, "a hick like that you could have easily started off asking for a hundred. And then when he wanted a double show, Jesus Christ, baby, wake up! You could have gone up to whatever you could get out of him!"

"But Lars! You mean you wouldn't mind my making love to that man? Don't you love me?" she wailed.

"Darling, of course I love you." He took her in his arms. "You know I do. I wouldn't have paid for this apartment and bought all your clothes and everything else if I didn't. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, darling," she sobbed. "It's just that... well... I thought I was yours and you were mine."

"That's right, baby. I'll always take care of you. But the other has nothing to do with our love, don't you see? It's just an easy way to make money so that the two of us can have what we want and have a real ball." He held her in his lap, rocking her back and forth and stroking her hair. "Now quiet down, baby-doll, I'm not going to run out and leave you."

"I know you won't, darling, it's just that this sort of took me by surprise." She sniffled and blew her nose into his handkerchief.

"And that was an easy way to make almost a hundred bucks, wasn't it?" he said.

"Ye-e-es," she admitted hesitantly, "and I want you to have it all until I pay you back."

"And it's a lot better than slaving forty-four hours a week all day long for a measly thirty-five, isn't it?"

"Ye-e-es."

"I can get some other deals like that, too. 'Course they are not all such easy rolls - those don't come my way very often. But just give me time. There're plenty of others."

"All right, darling. If that's what you want, I do love you so."

"And don't worry about a thing. I'll get the jobs and all you have to do is to hand over the money and I'll take care of you - pay your rent, buy your clothes, and we'll really have a ball, baby. Okay?" He kissed her wet eyes and the tip of her nose. "Okay?"

"Okay, darling. Anything you say."

Lars got up to make them both a drink. His back turned, filling the glasses with ice, he said, "Of course, there's a few things you should know about this racket, Cindy. Most you can find out by experience, but there's a few good tips to remember."

He walked across the room with the drinks.

"Do you remember that red head at the '960 Club'? Lacy?" he said.

Erin nodded.

"I'll get her to talk to you. She can wise you up."

"But I thought she was working at the Club?" Erin said.

"Yeah, now. She used to work for me until she got too bitchy and high-class - still does now and then, as a matter of a fact."

"What? You mean you've got other girls." she asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Lacy and another chicken." He sighed. "I might as well give it to you all at once." He took a cigarette and sat down beside her.

"Now, don't get bugged, baby," he said, noticing the look on her face. "You know it's you I love. The others have nothing to do with us. Just a way to make dough for us until we've got enough to have a ball all the time."

Erin looked at him without saying anything.

"Look, I've been thinking," he said. "Why don't we move in together?"

She brightened up and fell into his arms. "Oh darling, that would be marvelous!"

"You can move into my pad. It's better than this hole." He unbuttoned her blouse, reached in and fondled her breast. "Then we'll really live it up, baby."

"It'll be wonderful, Lars."

"There's only one thing," he hesitated.

"Now what?"

"I've been trying to kick her out ever since I met you, Cindy - but Lacy's there right now."

"What? At your place?"

He nodded. "She bugs the hell out of me and I'll give her her walking papers - as soon as you've pumped her. But don't let her know she's finished or she'll murder you. Let me handle that bitch afterwards."

"Okay, darling. Anything you say. It'll be wonderful to live with you."

Early the next afternoon Erin went over to Lars' apartment. He had said he wouldn't be there, but would tell Lacy she was coming, saying only that Erin wanted to make a little money on the side and needed some advice.

His apartment was in a modern building. She rode up in the elevator, got off and walked down the carpeted corridor. She paused before the door, giving her nerves a chance to settle down and then rang the bell. No one answered. She put her ear to the door but couldn't hear anything. She rang again, longer and more insistently. Finally she heard a faint voice yell "Coming" and then the door opened a few inches. In the crack appeared Lacy's face, her red hair tousled, her eyes full of sleep.

"Hello, Lacy," Erin said.

"Oh, it's you," she said and opened the door. "Come on in."

Erin followed her down the hall and into the living-room, wrinkling her nose at Lacy's musty smell of stale perfume and sleep. Under her blue nylon negligee, Erin could see she was nude. Lacy yawned and waved a hand at the couch.

"Make yourself at home. I'll he right back."

Erin sat down on a wide, eight-foot couch which was set at an angle to the fireplace. Although the room was luxuriously furnished with white walls, a thick, blue rug and matching drapes and deep, comfortable chairs, it was a mess. Dust lay heavily over liquor-stained tables. Ashtrays overflowing with smelly cigarette butts were on all the tables and partially empty glasses abounded with even a few lying on their sides on the rug. She looked over the room critically and planned how she would rearrange the furniture after she had moved in.

Carrying two cups of coffee, Lacy swished in, the blue nylon billowing behind her, her long heavy legs flicking in and out as the skirt parted. She was still nude, and underneath the pink flesh glowed warmly, the nipples on her full swaying breasts and the soft hair over her prominent pubic mound a dark red. Her hair combed, her face washed and lipstick on, she looked more attractive, although when she handed Erin her cup of coffee she could see faint lines of fatigue around her eyes and dark circles beneath.

She put the cup on a side-table and flopped down on a chair across from Erin.

"Jeez! What a life! At least you look alive," she said.

Erin smiled at her. At first she had been jealous, when Lars had told her he was living with Lacy, but now she began to feel sorry for her; she looked so tired and still didn't know that Lars was going to throw her out

"Lars says you want to start making some dough and that you don't know much." She looked her up and down. "But that I can't believe with the lay-out you've got."

"He said you could probably give me a few tips," Erin said. "Honey, what I know I could say in about three words. Make your pitch fast, don't waste time with them if they don't grab the bait right away, ask for more than you think they'll give, make them pay in advance and get out quick afterwards. Of course, that's if you're working the bars or higher class places. If you're on the street, God help you, there's a going rate." She paused. "You got a man looking after you?"

"No-o-o," Erin stuttered. "Not yet, that is."

"Well, you soon will. If you're working the street, you'll have your beat and he'll keep an eye on you to see you're not cheating him. He gets the dough, of course, and in return he takes care of you and protects you. And for Christ's sakes, don't try to muscle in on someone else or you're liable to get cut up."

"I don't really intend to work the streets."

"Yeah. With your looks you won't have to. Start right out at the high-class bars and aim high. Someone probably starts promoting you and then you're all set to make a hundred or so a night if you're lucky." She looked at her coldly, "I hope you haven't got your eye on Lars."

"Why, no, of course not," Erin stammered.

"Well, don't, if you know what's good for you." She stared at her awhile and then suddenly smiled warmly.

"I'm sorry, honey, for suspecting you... I guess you're on the square, though." She got up. "God, I need a drink. Want one?"

"No, not right now, thanks," Erin said.

She went over to the portable bar, poured herself some gin and sat down next to Erin, putting her arm along the top of the couch behind her.

"Being a woman, I guess you know the rest," Lacy said.

"I suppose so, but...."

"And another thing. The pay is for a reasonable straight job. If they get any funny and weird ideas, and believe me, honey, you'll come up against some you never even dreamed of, you can either refuse or get more dough out of them."

"Oh?"

"And unless it's an all-night job, get the hell out right after they've had their shot. If they want another, make them pay again."

Her arm slid down and rested tightly on Erin's shoulder.

"But don't worry, honey. You'll be okay. Just play it cool and you'll soon learn the ropes. And stick to the high-class joints."

Erin couldn't avoid looking at Lacy's maturely rounded body so casually displayed under the delicate blue negligee which lay like shadowed ice over the slumberous, heavy curves. Her hand was lightly stroking Erin's shoulder and she wondered whether to get up and leave, but decided to wait and see what would happen.

"Sure you don't want a drink, honey?" Lacy asked.

"No, thanks." Erin didn't know what to say or where to look. Lacy uncrossed her legs and the skirt fell open. Like polished ivory her thighs lay smooth and creamy, their heavy flesh pushed out against the blue cloth by their own weight.

"That's a pretty negligee," Erin said awkwardly.

"Thanks. Got it from a boy friend." Her hand rubbed the nape of Erin's neck. The loose neckline slid down over one shoulder, its edge draped lightly over the full curve of her breast, as large as a cantaloupe.

"Well, I guess I'd better he going," Erin said. She moved slightly on the conch.

"What's the rush, honey?" Lacy leaned toward her, her face a few inches from Erin's. Over the dilated pupils of her eyes, her lids were partially closed. She ran her tongue over her red, half-parted lips, and then pressed them suddenly and unexpectedly against Erin's.

For a moment, Erin twisted in her arms and struggled to get up but Lacy held her securely. And soon the sweet honey of her mouth and tongue, her gently stroking hands and the warm heavy weight of her body, conquered her momentary shock and sparked a strange fire of desire in her belly. She relaxed and surrendered herself to Lacy's lips and body, turning her torso as Lacy's hands unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, arching her hips as they drew off her skirt and panties, kicking off her shoes and lying on her back, passively and quietly, as they slowly peeled her nylon stockings from her long, slim legs.

Erin suddenly squirmed again in an attempt to rise and fight the teasing of her body, but her mind seemed to have gone blank and all sense of perception vanished. The rebellion was only momentary and her body stilled again.

"Oh, baby, you're terrific," Lacy murmured. With a hot, moist tongue she gently licked up her legs, fluttering her lips against the tender flesh of her inner thighs while Erin groaned helplessly below her.

Then, as though some magic spell had been wound over her, Erin reached down, grasped Lacy's shoulders and pulled her up until she was lying on top of her; their lips met as her full white body writhed hotly against Erin's golden breasts and belly, their pubic mounds grinding slowly together, the soft blond fleece tangling gently with the deeper red.

Lacy ground down against her for a moment and then with a deep, musky sigh slithered around on top of her. Her fingers pressed gently outwards against the soft, tender lips of her cunt, exposing the now gently palpitating clit to her greedy eyes. She moaned again and dropped her head down between Erin's open thighs, sucking the tiny throbbing bud wetly into her mouth. Erin held her breath from the strange and new sensation of another woman's lips touching her there in her secret portal of girlhood and she could feel the flames of lust again begin to lick slowly within her. Without thinking, she reached up and clasping Lacy's slowly gyrating asscheeks, drew them down softly over her face and began deeply tonguing the salty, sweet center of her loins. She moaned as the tip of her probing tongue suddenly broke through the outer barrier and slipped wetly up inside the pulsating walls of her cunt. She could feel the girl's movements over her become more desperate with each second she continued the teasing torture - and then, suddenly, but gently it was over for both of them. Lacy emitted a low passionate mewl from deep in throat and Erin could feel the wetness of her passion flooding down over her cheeks. A moment later she felt a long, easy flush of fire ripple through her belly and burnt like a dam inside her.

Erin moved over to Lars' apartment. Several days later the two scratches, long parallel streaks which ran across his cheek like red threads, had disappeared. When she asked him about Lacy's departure, he would stroke the scratches and say, "Yeah, she was realty pissed off, baby, but she's gone now, thank God, so don't worry about it,"

That evening he drove her downtown to one of the more fashionable clubs so she could begin bringing in some money, assuring her that this was only temporary and he would soon be getting her "some rich suckers" as soon as he had made a few more contacts. He pointed out a nearby hotel which accepted clients for short stays, kissed her and let her out at the corner.

She felt nervous; she was reluctant to enter a bar alone for the first time in her life. Nearing the neon-lighted club, she glanced at the doorman who looked her up and down appreciatively and then walked past, her courage failing her. She was afraid to enter and afraid not to, knowing how angry Lars would be if she returned empty-handed. She walked around the block and stopped for a cup of coffee. Finally, deciding that she couldn't put it off any longer, she left, walked determinedly to the Club and, clutching her purse with nervous fingers and holding her head high, marched through the door which was swept open by the uniformed doorman. Inside, she paused in the small foyer which was higher than the rest of the Club and looked down the short flight of steps. To the right was a bar and beyond were several dozen tables with a spot-lighted piano at the far end, set on a small dais and being played by an anemic-looking Negro who was moaning about his woman who had left him for a Cadillac. Feeling lost and very conspicuous, she looked around and wondered what to do, but then spotted an empty stool at the bar and walked down the steps and over to it.

When she had sat down, a man standing next to her turned around, glanced over his shoulder to see if she was alone or not and asked if he could buy her a drink. He was short and fat and his bald head glistened in the dim light; on his nose was a wart with two long black hairs growing out of it. She said she'd like a Scotch. When he leaned toward her, making idle chatter while his eyes appraised her, the smell of his breath almost toppled her off her chair. My God, she thought, what do I do now? I can't possibly make love to this man. As he talked and become more openly admiring, she wished she'd had more experience and wondered frantically how to get rid of him; she glanced around to see if there were any likelier prospects, but all the other men at the bar seemed to be accompanied by women. Shivering at the thought of his hands on her naked body, she decided she couldn't possibly do it, no matter how much money he might pay. He asked her if she were busy the rest of the evening. She stammered that she had a late date, had only stopped in for a drink beforehand and would have to leave. Gathering up her gloves and purse, she murmured her thanks for the drink and quickly walked out. Outside, she breathed the clean, fresh air and debated where to go next. She was afraid to go back to Lars too soon and without any money, so she started ambling down the street, planning to stop at another bar and there perhaps have better luck. She passed one bar after another; something seemed wrong with all of them. She was beginning to wish she had taken up the man back at the Club, just to get it over with so she could go home, when she heard a soft voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder; it was the same man from the club.

"Pardon me," he said. "Are you sure you wouldn't like another drink?"

"No, thanks," she said.

"I can make it worth your while." They walked along together.

She sighed. And although he was still as unattractive as ever, she decided that he would be better than nothing, for it was growing late.

"Okay," she said wearily, wondering how much to ask for. "It'll be $175."

He nodded his head; she wished she had asked for more.

They went to the hotel Lars had pointed out, rented a room and went up without speaking. He counted out the $175 in tens and fives and handed them to her. She put them in her purse and they both began to undress, still without speaking. Well, she thought, if he's not going to say anything. I'll be damned if I will.

When she had undressed, she lay down on the bed and unenthusiastically watched him. He had hung his coat and shirt over the back of the chair and now was carefully laying his trousers on the seat, making sure the creases were straight. As she had expected, his body was as fat as his face, with roils of white, pasty dough trapped around his waist and a tiny prick dangling in a sparse black nest of hair. Her whole body felt cold; she looked down and saw it was covered with goose pimples. He walked over to the bed and looked silently down at her. She stared back without saying anything, but finally managed to smile weakly.

"Kiss my ear," he said coldly, "it's the only way I can get an erection," and lay down beside her without touching her.

She almost burst out laughing with surprise. Turning on her side, she began caressing his ear, running her tongue slowly along the grooves and swirls, sucking the lobe and kissing it with her wet lips.

"Harder," he said.

Okay, Erin thought to herself, you asked for it, and began viciously chewing and twisting his ear with her teeth until she thought she would tear it off. He was grunting and groaning, but whether with ecstasy or pain, she couldn't tell. She sank her sharp, white teeth deeper into his lobe and ran her tongue sharply inside. Glancing down through her long, blond hair lying over their faces, she almost fainted in surprise. Sticking up from his groin like a giant marble obelisk was one of the biggest erections she had ever seen. For the first time since she had met him, she began to get excited and wished he'd start making love to her.

He suddenly wrenched his head away, rolled over and straddled her, his asscheeks on her belly, and bent to lick wetly the hollow between her full, white DD-cup tits. With his hands cupped on either side of the quivering, resilient mounds he squeezed them together until the two red, hardened buds of her nipples were side by side. He thrust his loins forward, pressing the full length of his giant 12-inch cock up the tight tunnel between, rocking back and forth so it slid up and down the saliva moistened groove. Seeing its tip appearing and disappearing between her tightly compressed breasts, she felt the familiar juices of lust begin to flow down between her legs. He took her hands and made her hold her tits together while he reached behind him and began to finger her pussy with hard brutal thrusts. And... just as the tension inside her was about to break, he slid down and thrust his huge, pulsating cock hard up into her throbbing and now hungry cunt. Her muscles contracted violently around his driving organ and she bucked under him as he ground down into her from on top of her writhing body.

"Bite my ear, bite my ear," he chanted down into her hair.

She seized it between her teeth and furiously sucked and chewed, feeling his pelvis smack against hers harder and harder until with one quick gasp from his lips he emptied himself completely inside her. She jerked for a moment trying to reach her own completion, but it was useless. He was dead inside her and rolled limply off her squirming body. She clenched her fists tightly together to drive back her disappointment. She overcame it quickly and got up and went into the bathroom to straighten herself up. He was still lying on the bed when she came out.

"Can't you stay any longer?" he said hopefully.

"No, I have to go," she answered, remembering Lacy's advice to get out quickly when they had finished with her the first time. She dressed quickly while he watched her and left just as he started to get out of bed.

It wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be, she thought to herself as she descended the stairs toward the street. Now for home - and Lars, she sighed with relief.

She walked away from the hotel and looked for a taxi. As she rounded a corner she collided with a man who was walking hurriedly, head bent. He stepped back, murmured, "Pardon me," and started to pass, when he suddenly shouted, "Erin! Erin Holiday!" and grabbed her arm. "Erin, how wonderful to see you!"

Not recognizing him at first, she stared blankly at his lean body and wide, happy smile. Then she realized it was Paul Dawson, the Paul of what seemed years ago, with whom she had grown up and who had taken her to the square dance just before she had come to Chicago.

"Paul Dawson!" she said and kissed him. "What are you doing in Chicago?" She was delighted to see him.

"Up over the weekend from college," he said. "I've been trying to find you all over. Your aunt gave me your address, but they said you'd moved."

"Yes, just a couple days ago."

"Come on. Let's get a drink. This needs celebrating." He steered her into a nearby bar, his young face radiating happiness. "What a piece of luck to run into you. I'd about given up."

They sat down and ordered drinks. "How's everything at home?" Erin said.

"Oh, fine. What are you doing these days?"

"I..." she hesitated. "I gave up my old job and am looking for a new one." The excitement of seeing Paul had whirled her back to the innocent days of her life on the farm and she had almost forgotten what she had been doing, just fifteen minutes ago. Knowing how horrified Paul would be if he found out, she became somewhat panic-stricken. It had all happened so gradually, she hadn't fully realized before how far she had come and how much her life had changed since she had left the farm.

"Didn't you like your old one?" he said.

"Not particularly. But I suppose I should have waited 'til I'd found another one... I'm getting kind of low, in cash, that is," she lied.

"Look, can I help you out, Erin?" he said eagerly. "Really, I'd love to loan you some money."

"No that isn't necessary, Paul, but thanks, anyway."

"Aw, come on." He reached in his pocket and got out his wallet. "Here, take a hundred. Please. I wish I had more to give you."

"Well, okay. Thanks." She took the bills and stuffed them into her purse. She had long wanted to buy Lars a present. She decided it would be better to steer the conversation away from how she spent her time. "How's college, Paul?"

"Okay. I'm almost through, you know. Just a few more months."

"Then what?"

"I thought I might come to Chicago and get a job. Are you planning on staying here?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"It seems to be agreeing with you. You look wonderful, Erin - and a lot older."

She laughed. "You mean I've aged that much?"

He blushed in confusion. "No. No. I didn't mean that! Just that you look so city-fied and sophisticated now. And beautiful!" He looked admiringly at her bare shoulders rising like a pale flower above the sheer black dress.

She laughed again. "You mean I wasn't before?" she said teasingly.

He became embarrassed. "You know what I mean. You know I've always thought you were just about the most beautiful thing ever."

He gazed at her, open adoration in his eyes; they reminded her of a puppy begging for food, pleading and hopeful. More accustomed to the hard, cynical talk and admiration of the men she had met since coming to Chicago, she found his boyish confusion and awkward attempts to compliment her appealing, although somewhat embarrassing. And then, too, he reminded her of her parents - a momentary twinge of guilt stirred in her heart as she thought of how much she had deceived them. But she felt happy again as she thought of Lars and how exciting her new life was, a life she wouldn't trade for any other. She suddenly felt years older than Paul.

"Dear Paul," she said and took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "You're so sweet. You are nice!"

He looked disappointed. "Is that all you think of me?"

"Oh, you're impossible," she laughed. "I guess I've just changed. Our lives back home seem so far away."

"Remember the square dance we went to? You looked so pretty that night I wanted to carry you right off."

"On your white steed?"

"No, in my 1940 Chevy!" he laughed. "Oh, Erin, I hope we can see each other a lot when I come to Chicago."

She became wary and evasive. "Well, probably. But I'll have a job then and I'll be a lot busier."

"And so will I - but I'll never be too busy to see you." Unlike Lars' poker-face, Paul's betrayed every flicker of his feelings, and now it was hopeful and pleading again. "Where are you staying? I may not be able to come again before I finish school, but I want to write you."

"Well, that's a bit difficult." Under no circumstances did she want him to find out she was living with Lars. "I'm staying at a hotel right now, but hope to find an apartment. I'll tell you what, the best thing to do is to write me at my aunt's."

"Okay. Just so I can find you whenever I come back, without having to bump into every female in Chicago!"

Someone stuck a quarter in the nickelodeon and a swingy ballad pulsed out.

"Want to dance?" he said.

"Where?" Erin looked around. Although the bar was almost empty there was hardly any floor space.

"There's room between the tables. Come on." He got up and helped her to her feet.

Even in high heels, the top of her head came just to his mouth. At first he seemed ill at ease, and held her practically at arm's length, as though she were so fragile she would break if he pressed her to him. This amused her and she snuggled up against him until they were swaying slowly to the music, body against body, his head bent, his nose and lips nuzzling in her hair.

"You smell so nice," he murmured. "Fresh as a spring meadow."

She knew he wanted her, but was too much in love with her, as he had been for so long, and too shy in his inexperience to make many open advances, for fear of being rejected. However, the only love she wanted now after her frustration with the fat man was physical love, and she was afraid that if she submitted it would only succeed in making him more in love with her than ever. But as she felt his young virility through the rough tweed of his clothes, her qualms left her. She wanted a man. And maybe, she thought, if we make love he'd be satisfied and I'll be free of him.

So she rubbed her body up against his like a purring cat; her breasts, squashed against his chest, became hard, the nipples rigid and aching. Between the soft masses of her thighs she felt his leg moving slowly and insistently, pressed strongly along the lips of her pussy, while the turgid lump of his erection jutted into the soft flesh of her belly.

"Erin, Erin," he breathed in her ear, "I love you so." As they danced together, hardly moving, smashed together into one person, lust rose within her to spread the dull ache emanating from her groin throughout her limbs until her whole body was hot, trembling with desire and passion. He, too, was breathing heavily, his muscles as tense as a coiled spring.

"Let's go to my hotel," he whispered.

They left and found a taxi. The door had no sooner slammed than he crushed her in his arms and their lips met in a long, mellow kiss and their tongues sucked the honeyed juices from each other's mouths. Oblivious to the jolting taxi, the screeching halts for stop-lights, the lights of other cars flashing in the windows, they remained clasped together, searching for the treasures of lip and mouth, insatiable and without pause until the taxi jarred to a stop and a dry voice said, "Here we are, kids."

Blindly they climbed out and started for the entrance of the hotel.

"Hey, bud," the voice yelled. "How's about payin', huh?"

Paul went back and tossed him a couple of bills. "Keep the change," he mumbled and ran back to Erin.

"Thanks," the driver yelled, "and have a good time," his laugh rising above the sound of the accelerating motor.

When they reached his room, she looked around and recognized a few of his clothes scattered about - the bright green tie he had worn while home on Easter vacation and which she had unmercifully teased him about.

"Do you remember this?" she said laughingly and picked it up, holding it out to him. But he was looking at her seriously, with the intensity of a young lover, with the complete adoration of a first love - and she almost felt like a virgin again.

"Oh, Erin, Erin, I do love you so," he murmured as he walked toward her. He picked her up and carried her over to a large chair. He sat down, holding her on his lap. With his fingers he slowly traced the arch of her eyebrows, the hollow of her cheek, the straight line of her nose and ran it softly over the bow of her lips. She took it between her teeth and gently bit the tip while they looked deeply into the bottomless depths of each other's eyes, seeing reflected their mutual lust and desire. He brushed his hand down the thick, blond mane of her hair and drew her head down; his lips kissed the fragile shells of her closed lids and whispered over her nose and cheek to her lips, nibbling the smooth fragrant flesh, following the sweep of her hairline to the nape of her neck. Her head bent, his fingers ran lightly down the curve of her spine until they touched her low-cut dress and, as she straightened up, followed the black demarcation around to her breasts which swelled softly over the top of the material. He kissed the hollow of her neck, quietly, almost reverently, while his other hand strayed lightly up her leg, stroking the firm curves until it reached the full softness of her thighs and the barrier of her panties.

"Just a second," she murmured and got up.

She undid her skirt and stepped out of it. Through the transparent silkiness of her slip her legs rose lean and long, the stockings a dusky tan over the tawny skin, molding smoothly and tautly the upward curves, marking the middle of her thighs with a dark line, the flesh above wedged outward. He watched her mutely, his hands clenched together, a bead of perspiration on his upper lip. Reaching behind, she unzipped the top of the dress with its built-in bra so that it fell away from her suddenly, revealing in one sweep the full lushness of her torso which rose above her slip like a honey-colored tulip. Her hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, framing the oval of her face with its blue eyes and red, parted lips and white glistening teeth. A lock strayed down over one breast, its blondness blending with the tanned hue of her skin, its swaying gratefulness accentuating the firm upward piles of her breasts, whose rigid tips glowed dully like the hearts of two blossoms. Like a flower she stood before him, but a flower of a loveliness and color never produced in nature, for below her waist she was all black and above, the rich color of a leopard; her legs, together in a straight line, encased in the dark stockings and tight, black half-slip, looked like the black stem of a flower proudly supporting the blossom of her torso, tinted like a pale, copper nasturtium.

She put her fingers under the elastic of her slip and began to slide it down, wriggling her hips as she did so. Paul leaped out of his chair and ran over to her, saying, "Let me do it."

He knelt before her, his head on a level with her waist, and looked at the fine texture of her skin, the flat planes of her sides which leveled down to the black of the slip; he looked up and saw her breasts, small and firm, jutting outward like two outcroppings of molten rock. But he did not touch her inviting nude flesh. Instead, he carefully put his hands on the smooth, silky material, hooking a finger under the band, and slowly drew it downward, thus by inch uncovering to his gaze the swelling fullness of her hips, round and resilient under the mesh panties, and the obese rise of her pubic mound richly covered with an umbrage of soft golden hair. Her slip lying in a pool around her feet, he drew off her panties with the same quiet, studied care, and unhooked her stockings and garter-belt peeling the hose down one by one between his two hands, feeling the slippery stuff give way to the warm, resilient flesh of her thighs and calves. Finally she stepped out of her shoes, and stood before him completely naked, silent before his adoration, her body quivering in anticipation. She felt like a worshipped pagan goddess.

Like a blind man reading Braille, he reached up and touched her, his fingers running like gentle spiders over her body, as though he had to find and know every hair, every pore, savor every curve and hollow, every drop of perspiration, memorize her body, so he could store it in the shrine of his mind. So light were his fingers she could scarcely feel them, like cobwebs blown across her skin, but at the same time they were warm and caring, their touch like a shock of electricity which coursed through her limbs and made her feel completely alive. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, trembling uncontrollably. Through the entrance of her passion she heard the muted sound of traffic, and like the opening shutter of a camera, the memory of her first night in Chicago flickered through her mind.

Then just as she thought she could no longer stand his teasing fingers, she felt his warm lips on her stomach and then lower down at the juncture of her thighs. She put her hands on the back of his head and pressed it against her, murmuring: "Yes, Yes, Oh, yes. Kiss me there."

His lips found the ridges of pink flesh embedded in the encircling hedge of silky, blond curls and his tongue the soft cleft between, which he licked and sucked deeply, tasting the salty-sweet liquor of her seeping passion. Clasping his head, which was glued to her loins like a leech, her head fell forward, her yellow hair curtaining her quivering breasts and, moaning softly, she rocked and swayed as the agony of pleasure burned brighter within her until the final ecstasy made her whole body leap and shiver in a paroxysm of bliss, and she doubled over and fell on top of him, her still contracting pelvis rolling on his shoulder.

He put his arms around her asscheeks, balanced her on his shoulder, got up and carried her over to the bed where he laid her gently down. Then he undressed quickly, snapped out the light and lay down beside her. Through the half-open slats of the Venetian blinds a neon outside sent bars of pulsating, changing light across the bed, a flickering kaleidoscope of color; between dark bands of shadow, strips of red lashed across their bodies like whip-marks, strips which changed slowly into a mysterious green, then into a rich purple, then a glowing yellow, followed by a cool, ice-blue. As the sign went off and on, bathing them in alternating darkness and slabs of rainbow color, it was as though they were in a strange underworld, their bodies alien and not belonging to them; in the moments of darkness as though they had ceased to exist; in the flashes of light as though they were more intensely alive than ever before. Their eyes and teeth glistened like devils, dark and shining, and their torsos were like turning candy-poles: red, green, yellow, purple.

Although his penis was hard and throbbed in readiness, he continued to explore her body, ever different in the changing light - as if he had not one passionate woman under his hands and lips but five, each a tantalizingly different color.

Now her full, flaccid breasts rose up in the criss-cross of purple light like dark, sullen hills, their nipples black like tiny cinders, hard and resilient like rubber; the once blond, soft cleft of the pubic hair covering the wetness of her loins looked teasingly like a minuscule field of clover, mysterious and bewitched by the thin, moist trench of her pussy dividing it equally into two tiny thrilling triangles of soft down. Now the light flashed to a livid red and as she rolled over, turning under his inquisitive, fondling hands, her smooth rounded asscheeks rose like two full blood-red moons, the crevice between a dark path of sin leading down the center of her sensual being. He worshipped the beauty of her young, naked body for a few moments longer and then could stand the torturous wait no longer.

He dropped his hands to the mattress and slid them under her stomach and pulled up until she was crouching on her hands and knees. He knelt behind her, his long 10-inch cock nosing its way up between the upraised columns of her thighs which quivered in the light like two large reflections of shimmering blue fire. As he rocked slowly back and forth behind her kneeling body, teasing the white, softness of the flesh between her legs with the wet strength of his erection, he could feel her trembling under his hands. He clasped her asscheeks, two blue satin hills and pressed them apart gently so as not to break the magic of the spell they were under. He pressed slowly forward and felt her hand beneath her body reach back and secretly enfold his hardness and guide it softly between the warm, tender lips of her cunt. The soft, sparse hair surrounding it grazing maddeningly against the sensitive bulbous head. Resting on her arms, she groaned softly, lowered her back and arched her hips in the air to expose the flowering entrance to his searching cock. Inch by inch he eased into the moist, secret tunnel, feeling the rings of muscles giving way to his slow but relentless pressure. The soft and contracting muscles relaxed momentarily as he pressed by them and then without warning would clamp violently back around him like tight slippery rubber bands. She groaned as he suddenly touched bottom and he was fully imprisoned within her.

They held still for a moment, savoring the moist, delicious contact of their bodies and then with the rhythm of the changing neon light streaming through the window, his hands guided her rotating hips and he slowly drew out, the movement making a wet, sucking noise of intercourse that incited their passions to greater heights. She thrust her asscheeks back and sucked him into her again, and now they stayed coupled together so that her body leaped and churned around the hardness of his cock as though she were a fish on the end of a spear.

"Now, darling, now," she cried and with a sudden gigantic lunge exploded in her orgasm, tears of joy rolling from her cheeks. Paul groaned behind her and sinking his suddenly jerking cock deep up in her belly poured forth his hot thick sperm in gush after gush of flowing passion.

Exhausted, they fell on their sides, still fused tightly together. They rested quietly for a few minutes and then he turned her on his rejuvenated penis until they were facing each other, their legs closely entwined. Their lips met in a timeless kiss and their hips and asscheeks moved like lazy pendulums as their desire once more climbed to the crest and exploded. Afterwards, the throbbing muscles of her pussy squeezed him tightly, draining the last of his sperm from his satiated loins and then they fell into a long dreamless sleep.

After Paul had slept with Erin several times his desire for her did not lessen, as she had hoped, but only seemed to grow stronger. When he visited Chicago during the next six months, he even talked about getting married, although in a very roundabout way, hedging his thoughts with "perhaps," "when we are older," and "when you want to settle down." But she had no intention of marrying just yet. It was perhaps true that she liked him well enough for her fondness to blossom into love under the right circumstances, but she was too engrossed in Lars and her life which centered around him to really give much thought to anyone else. When she saw him, they had a good time together; but when they were apart, she forgot all about him. For with Lars new and exciting experiences were always occurring.

She had become increasingly dependent upon Lars. At first she had thought she would work for him only until her debt had been repaid, but then the ease of her life and the large sums of money which she earned (even though they passed through her hands into Lars' pocket), soon made her forget all about looking for an ordinary job. And Lars took good care of her - new clothes, their luxurious apartment which she redecorated, a plentiful supply of good food and drink - in return for which all she had to do was what she liked best: make love. That she got paid for it only made it better, for she was not only satisfying her physical desires, but also pleasing Lars with the money she brought back. For by now she had become known in money-laden circles and could pick and choose her lovers.

And she found exciting and stimulating the swift movement of her life, the contrasts between her various friends. With her loves, one night she could dine and drink in the plushest restaurants and bars, sleep in beautiful apartments, meet well-known figures of public life, and with Lars the next night visit the smoky dives and cluttered apartments and studios of their Bohemian friends - artists, writers, prostitutes, dope pushers where they would drink, smoke marijuana, laugh, eat prodigiously and freely make love with each other.

It was just after she had moved in with Lars that she had found out he was selling marijuana, cocaine and crank. Although she had not yet tried the latter, she now smoked the former whenever she was with Lars and their friends, and had even brought Lars a few new, lucrative customers through her contacts with wealthy lovers.

One evening she went to the "960 Club" where she was to meet him. He used the Club as one of the places where he sold narcotics to clients who knew he would be there almost every day in the early part of the evening, slipping them the joints of marijuana or capsules of crank as they sat at the bar or at one of the small, dimly-lit tables.

Lars had not arrived yet so she sat down with a friend named Al who was also waiting for him. Al was a journalist who had quit his paper in order to write the novel he had been trying to start for seven years. Each day he would laboriously hack out five pages of what he was convinced was priceless prose and each night he would get high on marijuana and then read them out loud to whomever was around laughing uproariously at his own efforts, and toss them into the fireplace. If no one came to visit him at night, he would prowl around until he found one of his friends to drag home to listen to his reading. But as he was liberal with his "joints" there were usually several people who would drop in on him and "going to blow at Al's readings" became almost a standard procedure. That was how Erin had met him: when she had been taken over by a mutual friend.

Now he was sitting hunched over the table, his thin, hawk-like face morose and bleak.

"What's the matter, Al?" Erin said as she sat down. "Haven't you turned out your five pages for tonight's reading?"

He looked at her without speaking, grunted, sighed and stared down at the table again.

"What's bugging you? Come on, tell Mommy."

He sighed again. "When's Lars coming? I'm out of joint." He looked up at her. "I don't hear any uproarious laughter. That was supposed to be a joke." He rubbed a bony hand over his face.

"He should be here soon. How about a drink on me?"

"Naw. Thanks anyway. You now I only drink coffee or milk." He dipped his finger in the spilled coffee on the table and began tracing designs. "I don't have any vices."

She almost laughed in his face, but he looked so unhappy, she only smiled and then said, teasingly, "Why, Al, I'd heard that you were beginning to consider your writing as a vice."

"Yeah, I'm about to give it up. I'm getting in a rut."

"What you need is a different system."

"I was thinking of buying a tape recorder and dictatin' my five pages a day." He smiled wryly. "Think of all the money I'd save. Then I wouldn't have to burn up five pages every night, but could just switch it back and erase it."

Erin laughed. "That might work, but I've got a better idea."

"What?"

"Instead of writing when sober and reading when high, why don't you reverse it?"

He straightened up and looked at her, his face brightening.

"Hey, that's an idea." He rubbed his chin. "By God, I think I'll do it. I'll get a lot of pot from Lars tonight and start in tomorrow. At least it can't be any worse than what I'm writing now." He leaned over and kissed Erin on the cheek. "My God, Erin, that's really a brain wave."

Just then Lars sat down beside them. "Hello, you two," he said.

"Hi, darling," Erin said. "Al's starting in on a new routine."

"Yeah, fine," he said. "Look, baby, why don't you go back and talk with some of the gals 'til I get through here."

"Okay, Lars. See you, Al."

She got up, went back-stage and chatted briefly with some of the show girls, most of whom she knew were Lars' customers. Then she walked down to Rock's dressing-room. Rock was just pulling off her gloves and hanging up her coat

"Hi there, honey," Rock said. "How's tricks?"

"Okay." Erin sat down before the other dressing-table.

"How about some gin?" Rock said, waving a hand toward a bottle.

Erin poured them both a drink. She had become good friends with Rock, often sitting in her room and talking while Mike was busy outside, and before she had to go out with clients. Although her jealousy over Lars' attentions to other women had often prevented her from making friends with them, she knew Lars and Rock had grown up together and now were nothing more to each other than old friends and therefore Erin liked and trusted her. Now she sat and watched Rock as she undressed, gossiping about their friends and laughing about Al's new method for writing the great American novel.

When Rock was nude, she turned her back to Erin and walked over to the wardrobe.

Erin stared at her white, plump asscheeks and then burst out laughing. Right in the center of one white, rounded buttock was a bright pink halo of teeth marks.

"Rock," she said, choking on the drink of gin she had just taken, "have you seen your rear?"

"Yeah, I know," she said. "Looks great, doesn't it? That new boy-friend of mine is so damn near-sighted he can't tell the difference between his steak and my rump." Nude, she stood with her back to the full-length mirror, peering over her shoulder at her asscheeks.

"Think I'll work up a new act," she chuckled. "How about another set on the other cheek and one on each breast?" She began wriggling so that her huge breasts swirled in circles and her asscheeks rotated enticingly, the pink marks swaying up and down.

"The bites right around each nipple in a circle," Erin said.

"With the tits painted to look like a tongue."

"In luminescent paint."

"So when the lights go out - it's crazy! Four sets of choppers glowing and twirling!"

They both laughed.

"And they could bill you as 'The Right Size, Bite-Size Girl'!"

Rock walked over to the dressing-table, saying pompously, "But in the meantime, the show must go on." She picked up some cake make-up and handed it to Erin. "Here, cover it up for me, will you, honey?"

Erin began smoothing it over her pink indentations.

"By the way," Rock said, "have you and Lars heard about the party?"

"What party?"

"Shoo-fly's throwin' an orgy next Wednesday over at his pad. It'll be a real big blow, honey. Films and all."

"Sounds crazy."

"It'll be. It'll be."

She handed back the make up and Rock sat down and began patting her face with cold cream. "By the way," she said, looking at Erin in the mirror, "I don't want to stick my nose where it has no business, but have you heard what Lacy's up to?"

"No, why?" She had often wondered what had happened to her.

"You mean you've heard nothing since Lars kicked her out and she got fired here?"

"No, nothing."

"Well," Rock said as she fluffed powder over her face and body, "she's livin' with a tough hood named Flip."

"So what?"

"So she's spreadin' lots of dirt about you and Lars. I figure she still must be in love with him and is still so mad and jealous she's tryin' to do him in. Anyway, this Flip is real gone on her and believes every word the bitch says, about how Lars used to beat her up, made her into a junky, got her pregnant so she had to have an operation which ruined her insides, and a lot of other stuff. So she's now tryin' to get this Flip to beat Lars up. The only trouble is that this Flip is such a moron he might do it, so you'd better warn Lars."

"Okay, I will. Thanks Rock."

"But don't worry about it, honey, it'd probably add up to nuthin'. She'll cool down."

"I hope so."

"She also swears she'll get Lars to crawl back to her on his hands and knees."

Erin laughed, "He certainly won't do that. I can't imagine Lars crawling to anyone, much less Lacy."

"Yeah, maybe. But if he doesn't she says she'd screw him up."

"How?"

"Put the Narcotics Squad onto him, and do it so they'd have to haul him in. That could be bad, honey."

"Well, I'll tell him." She sat quietly, thinking, and then she became angry her face flushed and her eyes became dark. "If I ever catch that bitch, I'll tear her apart!"

"Let me know, and I'll help you out," Rock said dryly. She finished putting on her costume, patted Erin on the shoulder and went off to do her act.

Erin remained, morosely thinking over what Rock had told her. At first she had worried about Lars' pushing drugs. He had reassured her, and when she saw that nothing happened to him over the months, even though he had been doing it for several years, she accepted it as safe. She had even met a member of the Chicago Narcotics Squad at one of the parties where everyone had been high on marijuana, and some had openly been using crank. When she had asked Lars about him, he had only laughed and said he was an addict and was on the Narcotic Squad as it was the safest place to be. She wasn't worried about Flip beating Lars up because she knew Lars had been in enough fights and brawls to take care of himself. Nor was she worried that he would leave her to go back to Lacy. But if Lacy really wanted to make a big row about Lars to the narcotics' agents, they'd have to arrest him.

Realizing that her worries weren't helping to solve anything and wanting to get over the depression, she reached in her purse and dug around until she found a small box. Inside were several joints. Although she knew it was dangerous to smoke at the Club, as in all public places, she nevertheless lit it up after shutting the door. She took a deep drag and relaxed as the smoke began to take effect. As usual first the area around her eyes and cheeks felt pleasantly light and her worries vanished to be replaced by a snug, warm feeling of contentment.

Through the closed door the beat of the music in the Club was muted and distant. She could recognize it as the same song that had been on the record player the first time she had made love with Lars while high on marijuana, and she leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes, dreamily thinking of what it had been like. The record had played over and over, neither of them wanting to interrupt the flow of their love-making to change it or turn it off. Together with the joints, which extended their sense of space and time, the same rhythm and melody, repeating itself continuously, made their love seem even longer and more drawn-out.

They had returned to their apartment late at night and, still high from smoking at a party, put on the record and decided to have a last cigarette. As the joint picked her up and carried her away, she had lain down on the bed, feeling as though her body was swirling around in circles, that it was floating lightly above the bed, and that she would be blown away if she didn't hang on to something.

Laughing, she cried out, "Oh, Lars, hang on to me! I'm going to float right out of this world!" Her nerves sensitized to a keen edge, the touch of his hand pierced through her like a needle, sharply but slowly, as though the impulse of his touch leaped from nerve to nerve. At first they had rolled on the bed, laughing and giggling like a couple of children, and then they began to help each other to undress. Each button, each zipper, each sleeve to be drawn off, each wisp of clothing to he slipped away from her hot, tender flesh, seemed like a high barrier in a dream-land where all action was retarded and drawn out in slow motion. Each movement of their bodies, each contact of their hands and lips, was a sweet agony of heightened, accentuated pleasure. Time was slowed down, and just as every note of the music seemed to go in one ear and be stretched out in a spiraling circle to infinity before the next one followed after it, so she could feel and enjoy each tingling nerve, each moving muscle.

She was aware of her body in a way she had never been before; her mind and brain scarcely seemed to function; she felt entirely liberated and uninhibited and, unchained from her thoughts and all ordinary distractions, she made love with the freedom of a sex-starved animal.

She longed for Lars' body, for almost anyone's body, so when he came into Rock's dressing-room, she opened her eyes, stretched out her arms and said, "I was just thinking of you. Let's make love, darling."

He sniffed the air, closed the door and said brusquely, ignoring her outstretched arms. "Look, baby, you know damn well you shouldn't smoke in here, so wise up, huh? This joint's been raided before." He switched on the ventilating fan.

She looked at him quietly.

"Okay. Okay," he said, "don't look at me like that. What's bugging you anyway?"

"Don't be so damn nasty," she said. "If you want to know, I was worrying about you, but if you don't want me to give a good goddamn about you, I'll leave right now." She stood up, but the sudden movement made her head whirl and her body sway as though she were trying to walk on the deck of a rolling ship. She couldn't remain angry.

"Oh, Lars," she laughed, "I'm so-o-o on!"

He grinned at her. "You sure are, honey." He put his arms around her. "Now, come on. Rock said you wanted to talk to me. Let's hear it before you leave."

"Leave?"

"Tonight's when you see Harris, isn't it?"

"Good Lord, I've forgotten all about it."

"So what's up?"

She told him what Rock had heard about Lacy and her threats not only to have him beaten up by Flip but also make trouble for him with the Narcotics Squad, omitting, however, Lacy's boast that she would make him crawl back to her,

All Lars did was laugh.

"Flip? That idiot? Sure, I know him. He couldn't kill a mosquito with a machine gun."

"But Lars."

"Now, don't worry, baby. Lacy may be a bitch, but she isn't so stupid to try ratting on me. She knows what's good for her."

"But what if she does?" she said worriedly.

"I said don't worry! I know where she hangs out. I'll stop by and see her sometime. Lacy's just a lot of hot air. Don't let it bug you." He kissed her. "And now you'd better get over to Harris's. I'll get you a cab."

"Okay, Lars. But take it easy, please."

"Sure." He took her arm. "Come on now, and for God's sakes, don't queer the deal with Harris. We may need him sometime."

It was snowing heavily outside. Lars hailed a cab, put her inside, gave the driver the address of Conrad Harris's apartment and went back to the Club.

Erin sank against the cushions. Well, if Lars wasn't going to worry about Lacy, she wasn't, either. She wanted another joint, but didn't dare light it up in the taxi. Although she had been seeing Conrad regularly for three months, she was never sure exactly what kind of a mood he would be in. A well-known and influential politician in Chicago, he worked both sides of the street, the shady as well as the sunny, and through crooked deals and protection payment from the underworld. He had a wife and family at his home in Lake Forest, but maintained an apartment in the city as well. She neither particularly liked him nor trusted him, but Lars had insisted she keep up the relationship, in case they ever had need of his help. Then, too, he paid liberally for the nights she spent with him, besides giving her gifts.

"Erin, you look beautiful," Conrad said, when he opened the door. "As usual, darling."

He took both her hands in his, drew her into the foyer, kissed her and then held her away while he looked at her admiringly. "The always lovely Erin." On the shoulders of her fur coat and on her golden hair large flakes of snow still rested lightly, sparkling in the light. "You look like a blue eyed snow angel."

She smiled at him sweetly, even though his sentimentality and sugary compliments often made her feel like biting the end of his nose - a large nose. But then he was a large man, tall and compact, well preserved for his forty-eight years. "Yeah," Lars had said, "he keeps his weight down by skipping back and forth from one side of the law to the other."

As he took her coat he looked approvingly at the long-sleeved green wool dress, which fit her tightly, molding her breasts and hips, its severity relieved only by the deep cut V neckline through which her neck and chest gleamed the color of cafe au lait. "Looks wonderful on you. Have you got it all on?"

She nodded. They had been shopping and he had bought her not only the dress, but new shoes, lingerie and a tight waist-cincher. She kicked her shoes off and curled up in an armchair, talking to him while he mixed a drink. A quiet evening at home with fire and slippers, she thought. Nuts!

When they went out together she always dressed in her most sophisticated gowns, but she knew he liked her to be informal when they were alone together. "I want you to look like you lived in a sealed block of ice when other people are around," he had said, "but when we're alone, I like to know I've got a woman who's warm like a human being."

He brought her a drink and sat down on the couch.

"Erin" he said, "I hate to bring the subject up again, but won't you reconsider moving into an apartment? I've found a dandy not far from here."

Here we go again, she thought to herself. "Oh, Conrad" she pouted, "not again! Really, I'm sorry, but I like this arrangement as it is."

"I can give you a lot more than that guy you're living with now."

"I know. But I don't want to settle down yet. Maybe later. Let's not argue, darling."

"Okay, Cindy, have it your way."

While he talked on she appeared to be listening intently, but her thoughts were far away. Until they got into bed, Conrad's conversation, as he droned on in a gruff voice about things she was totally uninterested in, completely bored her.

He went over in the portable bar to get another drink and paused behind her chair. She could feel him standing behind her, gazing down at the top of her head. He leaned over. She tilted her head to look up at him. He was staring down the deep V of her neckline to where her breasts nestled snugly under the green wool. She took a deep breath and threw her chest out so they arched under the material like two soft, green hills. She reached up to draw his mouth down to hers. As they kissed, his hands slid over her chest down to her waist and up again along the firm slats of her ribs until they found the opening of her neckline and creeped under to the warm, pliant dough of her breasts.

"Take your dress off," he whispered.

While he watched, she slipped the dress over her head and stood before him, her legs wide apart, clad only in long, black stockings and the black waist-cincher. Extremely tight, it nipped in her waist like an hour-glass; above, it widened upward like a black heart into a half-bra which, supporting only the cup of her huge breasts, cupped them so they lay like two golden moons, high and full; below, it belled outward to just below the curve of her belly and the top of her swelling asscheeks. Lying as closely as a second skin, a skin of satin and black lace, it made her asscheeks bulge like two large, plump apples, toasted a golden tan by the sun. Framed by the long, parallel lines of the garters which stretched down to meet the silky, black sheaths of her stockings, the curve of her mound seemed even more obese and prominent, her pussy covered by fine, blond curls, more naked and mysterious.

When she turned and walked out of the room, her round thighs brushing hotly against each other, she could feel his eyes hungrily following her sensuous movements; and when she returned she knew he was ready to take her, he had already undressed and was waiting for her, his clothes in a heap on the floor, his body tense, his impatience revealed by his full erection. She walked toward him, her soft, blond hair swaying down her back; her full, rounded breasts, resting lightly in the half cups.

When she had walked to him he put his hands on her shoulders without saying a word and pushed her down so she was kneeling on the floor before him. She knew he needed this, this paying of the ultimate homage to him before he made love to her. It was his way, of always reminding her that she was a bought and paid for thing that was his to do with as he wished. She had never objected, and somehow found it strangely exciting to be dominated and humiliated this way as though she were some pet dog, or something not quite to be treated as human.

His hardened cock was directly in front of her face and without otherwise touching him, she began to slowly lick the underside of it, at first running wetly all around the hard throbbing head with her tongue. As he moaned softly above her head, she took the heart-shaped, smooth fleshed end full into the warm moistness of her mouth and her lips clamped firmly around it. She reached around behind him, cupping his hard, white asscheeks and pulled him toward her, feeling the full, lubricated prick of flesh slide deeper between her teeth, her tongue running in hot, moist circles over its smooth surface. Erin squirmed her own asscheeks down against her heel that was insinuated up tightly between the soft, globular moons. She could feel the wetness beginning there as it always did when she felt his excitement rising in the warm wet cavern of her mouth. She increased the movement of her head until it was bobbing in front of him like a balloon tossed about by the wind. Her hot, moist tongue swirled faster and faster around his still hardening cock until she knew he was almost ready to erupt deep in her mouth.

But, this time it was different. He wanted something else from her now and he suddenly reached down and jerked her bodily from her slavish task. His penis slipped from between her protesting lips with a slight sucking noise as the pressure was released against it and he half pushed, half dragged her to the overstuffed chair by the couch.

"Kneel on the arms," he said, his voice rushed from the near orgasm he had almost had in her mouth. She quickly spread her legs and climbed up on the chair, balancing her bent knees on the ends of the arms and letting her head and torso fall downwards toward the seat. Her full, ripe asscheeks were thrust upward, bulging, soft and pushed outward by the tight girdle he had not had her remove. Her widespread crevice, breaking the two flaccid, white mounds curved down, lined with soft, blond fleece and broken only by the pink puckered entrance to her ass. With the top of her head bent into the seat of the chair, she looked back through the widespread arch of her thighs and saw him standing behind her, not touching her.

Suddenly she felt two slaps, one on each cheek of her asscheeks so sharp and stinging that she gasped with pain. Although her body quivered with the shock, she retained her position and waited tensely for the next blow. Instead, she unexpectedly felt the light, gentle pressure of his lips kissing the bright pink imprints which burned and tingled. Just as she was beginning to relax, however, he slapped her again, this time so hard that her head was crushed up against the back of the chair and tears came to her eyes. Before she had time to recover, the stinging slaps fell again and she writhed and trembled and began to sob. But he murmured soothingly and lightly caressed her quivering asscheeks with his cool hands until she thought he was through tormenting her and she stopped crying and began to purr softly with pleasure. There was shuffling of position behind her, and she felt the hot moistness of his lips against the flesh of her behind. His tongue licked up the length of the wide-split crevice between her thighs, pausing at the small crinkled hole of her ass to thrust and tease at it for a few short moments.

"Ooooooooh," she moaned at the lewd tickling sensation coursing through her. And expecting that he would now take her, she moved back on the chair, thrusting her hips to present them more fully, and rotated them slowly and teasingly under his hands around the shallow impalement of his tongue probing at her ass. He drew back, but instead of the pressure of his penis into her, she grunted at a further series of painful slaps, then his kisses again and the hard blows, all in quick succession. She crouched, cowering on the arms of the chair now, crying with agony and pleasure, gasping and choking on the salty flow of tears that dripped from her eyes down onto the seat. Her whole body was tense and trembling, her gaze directed hack between her legs to watch him.

"Erin, darling," she heard him croon gently. "I've always wanted to fuck you in the ass. Now, I'm going to do it."

"Oh no, Conrad, please," she whimpered, a sudden feeling of complete helplessness coming over her. "It'll hurt."

"No, it won't, my darling," he crooned on softly an almost reverent tone to his voice. "I'll do it gently."

And through the wet veil of tears covering her eyes she saw his thighs move forward slightly until the huge, throbbing head of his cock was pressed tightly between the cheeks of her ass. She automatically tightened her asscheeks In a hopeless attempt to keep him from entering her there but his thumbs on either side of her ass pressed harshly outward and opened the whole of her back passage to the mercy of his unnatural desires. He pressed the slippery lubricated head of his cock tightly against the tiny, puckered entrance and pressed forward gently at first.

"Aaaaaangggggghhhhhh," she screamed as she suddenly felt the tight unyielding muscles of her ass being forced slowly outward from the strength of his relentless pressure. Her face contorted tightly in pain and she groaned like a wounded banshee down into the cushion of the chair, her scream muffled and desperate as though she were being impaled on the end of a giant spear shaft.

There was a slight pop as the tight outer ring of her ass suddenly gave way and the head of his throbbing member slipped inside. She groaned again and then the momentary pain of his initial entry passed and her ass relaxed and opened to receive him. He grunted behind her as the tight unused flesh clamped around his cock like a vice but did not ease off on the pressure he was exerting against her. He jerked forward with short hard strokes, digging deeper and deeper into her belly until Erin's whole behind felt stretched and distended beyond all hope of ever recovering. She felt as though her whole insides were being pushed up hard into her throat and there was no way in the world she could escape the cruel and unrelenting instrument skewering its way deep into her bowels. His hands curved around under her trembling belly and she could feel his fingers pulling the hot, wet lips of her cunt open beneath her. He thrust forward with his fingers, sinking three of them deep up inside her. She moaned again, her loins feeling completely filled with the hard, thick cock tunneling into her ass from behind and his probing fingers sunk deep in her pussy.

There was a sudden gasp from his lips and she felt his pelvis smack hard into the flaccid cheeks of her asscheeks pushing them up and out. She whimpered and felt her whole body jerk and writhe for a moment in protest and then relax in helpless acceptance as the whole of his pulsating cock lay buried deep in the confines of her widely stretched ass. He stood still for a moment to give her time to adjust to the unnatural invasion of her back passage and then began a series of slow short strokes in and out of her, his fingers probing deep in her cunt and keeping time to his cock gliding smoothly in and out of her ass. And then to her surprise the driving prick and the searching caress of his fingers thrusting into her pussy soon aroused her in a strange masochistic way and she began eagerly rocking her hips in the air behind her, propelled by the suddenly mounting urgency of her own passion. She could feel the old familiar fire building again deep inside her belly and she rocked and rotated wildly beneath him, the round white magnificence of her asscheeks hollowing and clenching around the hardness of his cock with each hard, brutal stroke he rammed into her. She could hear him clucking behind her in lewd delight, as he watched his thick prick of flesh disappearing deep down inside the smooth hairless mouth of her ass and then gasping crazily to himself as he jerked out again and the tight pink flesh flowed with it with a wet sucking noise, clasping to it as though it did not want to let go. His naked lust incited her more and she began to move with earnest now, the licking flames of her own desire almost ready to erupt. She could feel he was close to cumming. She could feel him growing inside her and stretching the already stretched walls of her pulsating ass wider and wider until she thought she could not stand the strange, obscene pain and pleasure another moment longer. Her eyes were dilated and bulged wide as she humped beneath him. The tightness of her ass clasping and unclasping around him like a sucking fish as he fucked into her now with all his lustful strength. And then he came!

Just as the rising tide of her own passion spilled out deep inside her, she could feel the hot warm spurts of his sperm emptying deep, deep inside her ass until it felt as though he were filling her whole body with the hot sticky fluid. Her full, rounded breasts dancing beneath her kneeling form hardened, as though he had broken through her belly and was dumping his cum into them. She could taste it on the end of her tongue swirled her tongue lasciviously around inside her mouth, savoring with delight the delicious and pungent taste. She heard him cry out behind her, and his thick pulsating member spurted one last thick jet of his sperm deep in her ass and, with a wild cry, her whole body contracted in the final burst of her own orgasm.

Her eyes closed, she collapsed into the chair as he withdrew with a wet sucking noise, as though he were pulling a body from quicksand. A thin string of sperm followed the tip of his cock, still connecting it to the stretched hole of her ass, a lewd reminder of the obscene coupling they had just gone though. Erin lay in a soft heap in the chair unable to move. Conrad reached down with his arms and picked her up and carried her into the bedroom where he laid her silently on the bed. The sheets were cool on her still tender asscheeks. He quietly unzipped the tight girdle and slipped it off. The mattress sank as he lay down beside her and she turned to him, her mouth half open, her lips wet, and waited for his kiss.

When she awoke the next morning, Conrad had already left. Under the clock on the bedside table was the amount of money he gave her each time she came plus an extra hundred dollar bill. She got up, showered, dressed and tucked the money in her wallet. Smiling to herself, she put the hundred dollar bill in a separate compartment. For several weeks now Conrad had been tipping her extra, as though to say, "If you move into an apartment by yourself, you'll have all this and a lot more."

She debated whether or not to tell Mike, but had decided against it, keeping the extra money for herself. Although she knew he would be furious if he found out, lately he had not been very generous in giving her spending money and she was beginning to resent the fact that everything she earned disappeared into his pocket. Usually she had purchased clothes with the extra cash. Mike had questioned her about them, but he had seemed to be satisfied with her explanation that Conrad had bought them - at least up until now.

By the time Lars and Erin arrived at Shoo-Fly's apartment for the party, it was well after midnight and fifteen or twenty people were already there, with more arriving as the hours went by and the musicians, strippers and other night people had finished their jobs.

Erin had attended Shoo-Fly's parties before and knew basically what to expect. She was certain that there would be plenty of marijuana, assorted other drugs if you wanted them and plenty of people ready to indulge in sex if you were in the mood. His apartment was luxuriously furnished for whatever your whim may be and he reveled in the fact that he could supply the surroundings as well as the drugs for his growing circle of friends. Although he was slightly condescending at times, everyone was more amused by his antics than anything else. He was always good for a loan with no questions asked, and periodically gave wonderful parties.

Even though he preferred men to women, often saying that the only good thing about females was that half the time they gave birth to males, he never tried to molest men after they had once given him a definite brush-off. He would just shrug his shoulders and say, "Well, no hard feelings, but do come around to all my parties and bring a girl friend," and then with a laugh, "and any of their old boy friends for me!"

There was usually some new innovation at his parties, and this time, as he opened the door for them, they smelled the scent of fresh perfume, so strong that it was detectable even through the sweet, pungent smell of the marijuana.

"Lars... Erin," he cried. "Come on in. This is going to be a real ball!"

Shoo-Fly was dressed in a deep purple smoking jacket, white ruffled shirt, lavender string tie, a black sash cinching his waist tightly and lavender slacks. He looked like an advertisement for expensive sin, and Erin wondered bow he could see through his dark glasses in the dimly lit room. He continually wore dark glasses and she had always wondered why until one night when she was sitting next to him she noticed that his eyes were grossly over-sized and bulged out wetly like a startled fish. She had shivered with distaste and wondered if he kept them on even while making love!

She wrinkled her nose, sniffing the air as he helped them off with their coats.

"I recognize the pot, Shoo-Fly, but what's the other? Incense?"

He looked at her frowning slightly, "Erin dear, you know we had incense last time and that I always have something new. Come with me and see!"

He waved them ahead of him through the hall and into the living room, gesturing with a hand carved pipe with a foot long stem and tiny bowl that he had made especially for him in North Africa for his marijuana and hashish.

The living room was almost thirty feet long, the tall windows heavily draped in red velvet and the floor was covered with a thick Turkish rug. Low chairs and couches were scattered about the room and several dozen large square pillows lay in disarray on the floor. The room was almost completely dark and she had difficulty making out any of the faces that were silhouetted from the indirect lighting. The room was thick with smoke, but she could still smell the sickeningly sweet odor that permeated the room.

"No flowers... no incense... well?" she asked.

Shoo-Fly laughed heartily and said, "Perfume! Perfume on all the light bulbs!"

Lars glanced at her, amused, as if to say, "God, what a freak!" and steered her to one of the large pillows on the floor.

"What'll you have," Shoo-Fly asked, gazing admiringly at Lars.

"Not you, at any rate," Lars replied laughing, and helped himself to a couple of joints.

"Hey, you two," someone yelled at them as they were lighting up their cigarettes. It was Al and Rock sprawled out casually on one of the couches in the back of the room.

More guests kept arriving and soon the room was full of people all talking, smoking until they were all high, laughing at almost anything and a warm feeling of contentment and peace stole over her. She was leaning back, her head resting on Al's knees as she listened to the talk that floated through the air. She closed her eyes, her face relaxed, giving the appearance that she was sleeping, but she was aware of everything they were saying.

Her mind was so engrossed in the conversations that were going on around her that she didn't feel Lars slip away from her side and make his way back to the bar at the other side of the room.

He walked cautiously, exaggerating each step as he stepped between and over couples that were lying on the floor.

"Hey, look at Lars taking those seven foot steps," someone yelled, and she opened her eyes and watched him weave his way toward a group of their friends who were mostly junkies at the far end of the room. They looked dull and listless, as though they were having a horrible time, but she knew that they were actually in a state of complete pleasure as she had seen them earlier in the kitchen, boiling and injecting crank.

Music floated through the room, deep throaty sounds of a jazz singer belting out the blues and everyone seemed to be in a half-lethargic state.

She felt Al stroke her hair, running his fingers down the nape of her neck, massaging, caressing.

"Let's go on back to the other room," he whispered in her ear. "Rock's hot to go, too."

Just the thought of the room at the back of the apartment made a tight knot of desire swirl in her stomach. He helped her to her feet and pulled Rock up and the three of them stood there for a moment clutching at each other for balance, laughing loudly, Al reached over and slid Erin's low-cut blouse off one shoulder so that it lay in a curve, half-revealing the soft swell of her full, ripe breast.

"A preview of coming attractions," he said.

They walked delicately between the chairs and pillows, stumbling over a few legs and finally reached the door to the hall.

They overheard Shoo-Fly arguing with his newest "Mistress" and chuckled at the ridiculous sounds.

It seemed ridiculous to them to hear two men fighting like a husband and wife and they couldn't stifle their laughs.

"Just a little domestic quarrel," Shoo-Fly volunteered when he saw them standing there taking in what they were saying.

"I see you are about to enter my special little den of iniquity," he continued, pulling his own lover by the arm and steering him into the room along with the other three.

"Wait a minute," Erin said, "Where's Lars?"

"Relax, sweet," Shoo-Fly said, "He's already in there making it with, if I do say so myself, with a delectable little redhead!"

A pang of jealousy passed like a cold steel blade through her stomach, but only for a moment. She couldn't bear the thought of his making love to someone else even though she had made love to many different men during their relationship.

They had joined in group orgies where they had both been partners to other people and she had gotten some sort of a vicarious thrill seeing him saw in and out of another woman, but the fact that he had gone off by himself without letting her know was a different story, and she wasn't sure that she could take it.

They walked down the hall and opened the door to a smaller room, painted in red and black, which was so cluttered with clothes that it looked rather like a bargain basement. The smell of the marijuana filled the room and every now and then you could hear groans of pain and delight come from various section of the room. They undressed quickly and looked around for an empty spot on the floor. Erin tried to find Lars amidst the tangled, writhing bodies that were making love in pairs, threes and other assorted groups, but her eyes had not yet become accustomed to the darkness so it was impossible to tell where he was.

There seemed to be more people than there actually were, for the ceiling was low and covered with a mirror, affording a clear, exotic view of everyone in the room to anyone who was lying on his back, smoking or resting.

The room was completely void of any furniture except for an occasional throw rug in black or white that was carelessly lain on the black mattress that covered the entire room.

Shoo-Fly and his friend made their way across the room trying not to disturb any of the sensually entwined bodies and situated themselves in one comer, away from the mass.

Rock, moaning softly, her long, black hair falling half-way down her back, made a rush towards a group of three, two men and a woman, who were making love on the other side of the room. She dropped down beside them, and without saying a word, began caressing and kissing the nearest body to her, not caring whether it was a man or a woman!

Erin sat down on one of the rugs and lit another joint, puffing lazily, letting the smoke circle her head like a mushroom cloud and propped her head up with one hand. Al dropped to the floor beside her, hesitating for just a moment to see if she would voice any objection. She liked to smoke and relax before actively joining into any of the activities. She found that watching the others make love stimulated her own desires and aroused her to such a degree that she was a solid mass of nerve-ends, electrifying waves of passion shooting through her whole body.

When her eyes became a bit more accustomed to the darkness she tried to find Lars among the assorted groups of bodies that were sprawled here and there, but it was impossible.

She lay completely back and looked up at the ceiling, and there he was, reflected in the mirror, also lying flat on his back, his arms and legs spread out at 45 degree angles, the redhead bending over him, running her fingers and tongue over his body.

She watched fascinated as she took another deep drag on her cigarette, and she could feel a tightening in her stomach as she could not take her eyes off this strange woman making love to her man! She twisted her body slightly as the redhead's mouth closed around Lars' erect penis and she began sucking noisily, greedily, like a starved woman. She could see him raise his hips, trying to force more of his manhood into her eager, moist mouth, his own mouth opening and closing with short, hot gasps as she mouthed his hard prick. Erin was so caught up in what was going on that she barely noticed Al's hands begin to run over the full, smooth curve of her immense breasts and begin to massage the soft, supple flesh between his fingers, pinching at the nipples until they stood up erectly, proudly.

"Aaaaggghhhh," she moaned softly, wriggling her body underneath his touch, but not taking her eyes away from the spectacle she was viewing on the ceiling mirror. She could feel the desire building up in her own body, wanting, needing, but completely oblivious to whomever it was creating this desperate urge. Al rolled his body over so that he lay pressed tightly against the length of her body and she could feel the beat from his erect, thick penis as it jerked against her hip. Casually, she let one of her hands close around his thick, throbbing staff and massaged it gently, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the hardened 9-inch prick.

Lars looked as though he were about to climax when the redhead stopped her voracious mouthing and moved up his body until her legs were straddling his hips and she lowered herself onto his long, thick penis. She saw his mouth open in a gasp as she bucked up and down on his body, pounding her hips against his then pulling up so that only the head of his penis was buried in her pussy. He was twisting underneath her, grabbing at the flesh of her hips in an effort to hold her down on him so that she couldn't pull away. She knew from her experience with him that he was close to his orgasm, that he would not be able to hold off much longer. This thought brought the tight feeling between her own legs to a breaking point. Al was running his hands over every inch of her flesh, kneading it, massaging, making it tingle with an aching desire. Her grip on his penis tightened, squeezing it harshly until he moaned in pain. He pulled at her body until they lay face to face and she could no longer see what was happening between Lars and the other woman, but at this moment she didn't care. She knew that Lars would be spent in a few moments, and she was just beginning to build to her own climax.

Al's fingers dug into the soft fleshiness of her asscheeks, pulling the cheeks gently apart until she could feel the thickness of one finger search out the tiny, elastic hole of her ass. She ground her hips into his, feeling the length and hardness of his penis slide moistly, hotly between her tightly clenched thighs. His finger inched its way into the tiny passage of her ass, impaling her, holding her skewered like an apple on a stick. She reached down between their legs and guided his jerking penis to her other channel and tried to ease her hips up slightly in order to give him better leverage.

"There... there... that's it," she moaned softly as she felt the giant prick slowly work its way into her hot, moist channel, the walls of her pussy closing around it like a smooth, fleshy blanket. The pain of his roughness at her backside subsided as she wiggled up and down on his prick, her fingernails digging harshly into his back, scratching at the hard, muscular flesh. She could feel the flood of her orgasm about to spill and she pushed down roughly on his cock, until she could feel its entire length filling her right up to her belly.

"Aaaggggghhh... yes... now," she gasped as her vaginal walls began a rapid contraction around his thick, pulsing manhood.

"Now!" was all she could muster through the narcotic haze that hung over her mind, Her words and her passionate grabbing brought him to the brink of his own satisfaction, and as she ground out her climax he felt the boiling of his sperm as it shot deep into her waiting, aching pussy.

"Yes... yes... I'm cumming... I'm cumming too." he groaned, feeling the contractions and the jerking inside her until his penis went soft and flaccid and slid out of her, semen still oozing from the head.

They collapsed next to each other, not looking at each other, because it didn't really matter who it was that had satisfied them, not caring about anything except that they were satisfied.

When she opened her eyes and looked up into the mirror, the others were lying, as worn-out as she, except for Shoo-Fly and his partner who were still queering each other and he still had his dark glasses on!

She glanced over and saw that Lars and the redhead were lying side by side on the other rug, taking drags from the same joint. She knew that he had not even noticed her presence in the room, he had been too involved with his new lover. She wanted to go over to them, but she knew that this would only anger him, so she got up slowly and walked out to the kitchen.

In the hallway she ran into Carla, an older woman who had been a successful stripper at one time, but the years of late hours, too much booze and dope had taken their toll and she was haggard and emaciated.

"You look a little frazzled, kid. Just been back in Shoo-Fly's joy room?" she asked.

Erin nodded. "I no sooner get satisfied in one way that I'm hungry in another!"

They laughed and walked in to the kitchen where there was a buffet set to feed about one hundred people.

"Pot sure makes me famished," she said, helping herself to a sandwich.

"When are you going to try the "real" thing," Carla asked.

"Try what?" she replied.

"Crank... horse," she said, "Come on. I'll fix you up. It's really the greatest!"

Erin hesitated, not really sure whether or not she should get involved with something as strong as that. She had heard what it could lead to, but she needed something to make her feel better.

"How do you take it," she asked naively.

"You can sniff it, but a shot's the best," Carla replied. "Come on, I'll show you."

Carla took her by the arm and led her into a small room off the kitchen where several people were standing around watching another young man sterilize needles and boil the white powdery substance and pour it into a syringe.

Carla took a small capsule of crank out of her pocket, opened it and sprinkled the white powder on a mirror, dividing it into several portions. She handed the mirror with a minute amount of powder on it to Erin.

"Here," she said. "Stop up one nostril and sniff this stuff with the other."

Erin reluctantly took the mirror into her hand, balancing it carefully.

"I understand that it can make you sick the first time," she said, still not sure whether or not she should try it.

"Sometimes it does," Carla continued, "but after that you're riding high. You have to start sometime!"

She bent over the mirror, following Carla's instructions and sniffed the loose crank.

"Now, the other nostril," Carla said. She obeyed, taking the powder deep into her nose. It tickled her nostrils and she felt like she wanted to sneeze, but resisted the impulse.

She raised her head slightly and then it bit her. A wave of nausea flooded her whole body. She felt warm, dizzy and weak, totally unable to fight the sickening feeling that was taking over her body and her mind. She braced herself on the small table where the others were waiting for their portions and staggered unaided over to the sink and threw up. When she felt as though the very lining of her stomach was in her throat she sat down and put her head between her knees, hoping that the nausea would pass. She sat there for several minutes letting the quivering feeling pass and then she felt high, light and wonderfully happy. She lay on the cool linoleum floor for a while and then slowly got up and wandered as though in a trance into the living room and dropped down on a cushion.

She could hear the conversations going on around her, but she took no notice of them. She was completely content to be alone with her thoughts and feeling of supreme bliss. Time ceased to exist and she had no idea how many hours had passed when she finally went to sleep.

She woke up when someone shook her shoulder. She groaned and looked up to see Al standing over saying, "Come on, time to go home."

"For God's sake, Al, I'll go home when Lars does," she said.

"He's already gone," he said, pulling her up by the shoulders.

"What," she moaned, "when?"

"He left several hours ago with that chick," he said. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Erin looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. Lars had never left her before and gone off with another woman when she was around. Pangs of jealousy twisted inside her and for a moment she was afraid she would be sick again.

Feeling numb, she silently followed Al and waited while he found their coats. Although there were still quite a few people scattered throughout the apartment, Shoo-Fly was nowhere in sight.

It was just beginning to get light when they walked outside into the cold winter weather. The sharpness of the wind against her face woke her up completely as they walked down the street trying to find a taxi. The buoyancy and happiness of being high had vanished and she felt depressed and extremely tired. Perhaps Lars would be home, she thought, but when Al left her at her door and she went in, only silence and the stale odor of tobacco greeted her. She went from one room to the other, hoping that she would find him sleeping somewhere, but she saw nothing. Feeling more depressed and wondering when and if Lars would be back, she drew the blinds against the morning sun and went to bed.

She was awakened late that afternoon by the ringing of the telephone and Al's voice saying that he wanted to tell her something, but he preferred not to discuss it over the phone and asking her to meet him at the "960" Club. She asked if it were about Lars because he had not returned as yet, but he said no. She dressed quickly, grabbed a bite to eat and ran out to find a taxi. When she walked into the Club, Al had not yet arrived, so she went backstage after asking the bartender to tell Al where she was.

There was hardly anyone backstage and the door of Rock's dressing room was closed. She knocked once and then opened it. Rock wasn't there, but Lacy was! They were both equally startled at seeing each other so they just stood there staring for a moment without moving or speaking. Lacy was sitting on a chair, her heavy thighs crossed, one hand holding a cigarette, arrested in mid-air.

Recovering first, Erin said, "I thought Rock was here," and she started back out the door.

Lacy jumped up and said, "Wait!" She swayed slightly and sat down heavily. "Now that you're here, sit down."

She looked at her warily. Either Lacy was high or roaring drunk, but judging from the smell of gin in the room it was probably the latter.

She walked into the room and closed the door, standing with her back against it.

"Well, what do you want?" she said coldly.

"My dear pal Erin... so nice to see you again. So inexperienced, so sweet, who has no eyes for Lars," she laughed, loudly and drunkenly.

"Okay, cut it out, I'm leaving," she replied as she put her hand on the cockhead.

"No... wait," Lacy's loud, crazy laugh ended in a series of hiccoughs. "Stay awhile."

Erin remained motionless, staring at her with disgust, not knowing whether she should leave or stay and take the chance of being insulted further.

"Here, have a drink." Lacy leaned over, reaching for the bottle, and almost fell off the chair.

Erin shook her head, "No thanks," she said brusquely.

"Aw, come on honey," Lacy continued, "after all, we've got something in common to drink to."

"We have absolutely nothing in common!" she replied.

"Well, at least pour me a slug," Lacy stammered, "The damn bottle keeps moving around."

Erin walked over, splashed some gin in a glass and handed it to Lacy. "Here," she said as Lacy reached out to take it with a shaking hand. Seeing her close up, Erin noticed that she looked ten years older, the skin on her face was pasty white and deeply lined; her hair which had once been an electric red was now soft and dull. She began to feel a little sorry for her.

"Look Lacy, don't you think it's about time you went home? I'll get one of the boys to take you."

"Don't tell me what to do," she interrupted angrily, looking up at her with lifeless and bloodshot eyes.

"Have it your own way, then. Good-bye!" she said as she started for the door.

"I'm waiting for Lars to take me home," she said with a smug smile on her face.

"Don't be stupid," Erin retorted, "Lars wouldn't drive you to a dog fight."

"That's all you know about it, dearie," Lacy said, glancing up at her haughtily.

"What do you mean by that," she said.

"Just what I said. You aren't as smart as you think you are."

"Meaning what?"

Lacy said nothing but continued to look up at Erin, a self-assured, nasty grin on her face. Finally she said, "What's the matter? Afraid Lars will leave you?" She saw Erin flush and laughed again, saying, "Or has he already?"

"You filthy bitch," Erin blurted out angrily.

Lacy's face became cold and hard as she screamed, "Don't call me a filthy bitch. I can still take any man away from you, you pig, and especially Lars. I know how I can do it!"

Erin stepped closer, her face still flushed, but now with anger. "Okay, Lacy," she said. "I've heard the dirty lies you've been spreading and your stupid threats, and if you rat on him I'll tear you to pieces. So keep away from him, you understand me?"

Lacy rose from her chair, trying to keep her balance. "You're telling me to keep away from him?" she screamed. "After what you've done, you stinkin' bitch, after you." she raised her arm and splashed the gin at Erin.

The liquor hit her in the face and ran down the front of her coat. She stepped back in surprise trying to wipe the stinging liquid from her eyes at the same time. When she blinked in an effort to clear her vision, Lacy leaped at her, catching her off balance and she fell to the floor, Lacy on top of her scratching at her face and pulling her hair like a crazy woman.

The door burst open, banged against the wall and Al and the stagehand rushed in. They managed to pull the girls apart and Erin leaned against Al, panting and gasping. Lacy squirmed wildly in the other man's arms, trying to get back at Erin. It was only when he slapped her sharply on the face that she quieted down and then burst into tears.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Al said and steered her rapidly out the door. They left by the rear exit and stopped in the alleyway until she could recover her breath and her composure. They walked out to the sidewalk and down the street to another bar.

With a couple of scotches lying warmly in her stomach, she soon felt better and asked why he had called her. "And if it's anything about Lacy, I don't want to hear it. I've had enough of her for one evening!"

He looked at her solemnly and said, "No, it's about Harris."

"Conrad?" She looked at him completely Surprised. "What about him?"

"Nothing much, really. Just a rumor I've heard. I still see a lot of my old newspaper pals and they told me about it."

"What, for heaven's sake?" she inquired anxiously.

"Well, it's really more than a rumor. To be exact, Bob knows the guy and says he's already started on it."

"Al," she said impatiently, "Will you please stop mumbling and tell me what's going on?"

"There's this guy named Joe Flanagan on the 'Evening Star.' According to Bob, he's a young squirt of a cub reporter who doesn't know his ass from his ear, however, but he got the bright idea if he did a big expose on his own and presented it to his editor, all written and nicely tied up with a red ribbon, he'd be the fair-haired boy."

"Expose?" she said.

"Yeah. Expose of Harris. And you know as well as I do that there's enough dirt to be dredged up about Harris and his crooked deals, in and out of politics, to raise one hell of a stink."

"But would they publish it? After all, Conrad's a big guy in town."

"Yeah, they might. Stan Morgan, the editor, would never dare order an investigation himself or it'd be his neck, but the trouble is their circulation has fallen lower than a stripper's morals and if he were presented with the stuff all wrapped up, he might just print it. After all, once the stuff was out, the public would probably get so aroused they'd demand a full investigation, and if Harris was convicted, Morgan would be riding high and so would his circulation."

"Yeah, I see. Not very nice, is it?"

"Thought you might want to tip Harris off. Not that I have any great love for the bastard, but after all, you'd be dragged in for your share of publicity too as his number one girlfriend"

She looked at him startled. This aspect of it hadn't occurred to her.

"My God," she said, "I hadn't thought of that. I'll call him right away." She got up from the table and went back to the telephone booth and didn't return for five minutes.

"He's getting ready to go out," she said, "but I told him it was important so he said for me to come right over."

"Good, and take it easy, kid," he said, winking at her.

"What's the guy's name again?"

"Joe Flanagan, on the Evening Star."

"Got it. Thanks a lot, Al."

She picked up her gloves, kissed him lightly on the cheek and left.

She hailed a cab and gave Conrad's address. Her heart was pounding so fast that she thought that it would come right through her chest. She wondered how he would take the news that he was about to be exposed by some punk newspaper cub, yet she was afraid at the same time. Conrad was not an easy man to get along with from a business standpoint. She knew that he had people taken care of when they had caused him the slightest problem, and she couldn't help but feel responsible for almost signing this Joe Flanagan's death certificate.

She had almost forgotten that she was upset with Lars, that he hadn't come home and that he was with another woman. The situation with Conrad was utmost in her mind and she was trembling as she paid the cab fare and raced up the stairs to Conrad's apartment.

He greeted her at the door and held her close for a moment.

"What's the big rush. What's so important. Here, sit down, you're shaking."

He walked to the bar and poured her a drink and handed it to her. He was dressed only in a silk robe and she could see his strong muscular, hairy legs as he crossed the room. The robe came apart slightly and she stared at his loose hung genitals as he sat down next to her on the couch.

She took a big gulp of her drink, cleared her throat and began to repeat the story as Al had told her.

"I don't know what they have already, but it doesn't look good and I thought that you might like to know."

"A young punk, eh?" he almost spit out. "Doesn't that just take the cake."

She just looked at him, not knowing whether she should say anything else, afraid of what he would say next.

"Well, love, I can't thank you enough. Looks like your daddy Conrad will have to have him cut down to size. I wonder who's been spilling the beans to him and how much he's paying for it."

He reached across the back of the couch and pulled her to him, his hand grabbing roughly at the warm, soft fullness of her breast. She fell against him weakly, opening her legs slightly so that he could reach under her skirt and begin to fondle the soft flesh of her inner thigh as his fingers searched for the elastic of her panties.

His robe had fallen completely apart and his massive organ was jutting up from between his legs like a long 11-inch pole. Her eyes watched fascinated, as it jerked up and down as it grew more swollen with desire. She smiled to herself as she felt his fingers reach the juncture between her legs and begin to rub the tiny hardness of her clit.

"Take off your clothes," he whispered huskily. "I like to watch you while you undress, you're so beautiful."

Obediently she pulled herself away from his grip and slowly began to strut in front of him, unbuttoning her dress as she walked.

She watched him as his eyes devoured her every move and she knew that he was getting more and more excited with each piece of clothing she removed. She undulated her hips at him so that her pelvis rotated provocatively just in front of his face. His hands reached behind her and pulled her roughly toward him, his mouth and tongue nibbling and licking at her pelvis through the sheer silk of her panties. Her hands unhooked the elastic of her bra and she let it fall to the floor as her EE-cup breasts hung full and free, her nipples pinkish-brown and erect.

"Oh God, you're so beautiful," he moaned, as he tugged at her thin panties until they fell below her knees and she was clothed in only her silk stockings and thin, tight garter belt. She ground her hips into his face as he licked and bit gently at her pussylips and bud of her clit.

"Oooooohhhhhh baby," she whispered. "Do it to me. You're so good."

She looked down and could see that his massive penis had grown to monumental size and was bobbing up wildly in anticipation of taking her.

He pulled her down onto the couch and ripped the taut stockings from her legs so that she lay completely bare and vulnerable to his demanding touch. He covered her breast with his mouth and began sucking noisily at the plump mountain of her bosom, biting gently at the stiff, erect nipple.

"Aaagggggghhhhh," she moaned, twisting her hips under him so that she could feel the iron hardness of his cock as it dug into her thigh.

"Do it now," she begged, being caught up in a flood of desire, the tightness between her legs aching her.

"Not so fast," he whispered, "I want you to beg me for it. Come on, beg your daddy."

"Yes... please." she gasped, but she knew that he would not give in to her so easily. He got much more out of it when he made her wait for him to enter her and she knew that he would not deny himself this pleasure.

Her hands reached down between them and squeezed the giant stiffness of his prick, kneading it back and forth in her hand. She could feel the skin slide back and forth over the bulging head of his penis and she knew that it must be purple from lust by now.

His hands continued to search and massage every inch of her soft, supple skin, pinching cruelly every once and awhile so that she cried out in pain. His fingers found the crevice between the soft roundness of her asscheeks and he inserted one finger deep into the tiny, tight little ass with one harsh stab.

"Aaagggggggghhhhh, ooohhhhhhh," she gasped, trying to buck her hips forward to avoid the cruel impalement, but he held her fast.

"You want me to fuck you," he gasped in her ear. "Want me to fuck you now?"

"Yes... oh yes... yes." she barely whispered, trying to adjust to the painful intrusion on her asscheeks.

She pushed her hips into him, pulling her thighs back towards her body as his hands continued their stimulation of her back passage. Finally she could feel the rock hard stiffness of his big 11-inch prick as he angled himself up on her body and his organ prodded at the opening of her pussy. She gave a little gasping moan as he rammed the full length of his throbbing penis into her. There was nothing left of her at all but the enormous well which itched and burned, contracted and seethed around his monstrous cock as he sawed in and out of her.

He was pummeling into her with rapid, staccato strength, gasping continuously with each in-stroke, and her legs moved around, rubbing on his thighs as she squeezed in and fell away. Her hips seemed to have a will of their own, writhing around against his as the weight and solidity within her seemed to grow bigger and bigger.

"Oh yes... fuck me... fuck me good," she gasped, her breath hot and rapid.

There was a swirling in her loins which made her strain and strain against him, begging him to fill her, invade every inch of her body. The swirling grew, causing a whirlpool of passion that was about to drain every inch of strength from her body and leave her soft. She couldn't stop her wild contortions as he plundered into her, the length of his huge, pulsing cock filling her completely until she thought he would come out her throat. She knew that she was on the brink of her orgasm and she dug her nails into the hard flesh of his back, trying to pull him in even deeper into her aching well. Her body began to shudder with a violent trembling as she began to jerk out her own climax as he plunged down deeper into her throbbing orifice.

"I'm cumming... I'm cumming." she moaned, "fuck me harder darling... now... NOW!"

She relaxed slightly after her climax, her legs still twitching with excitement, but in a half stupor while he continued to ravage her in growing excitement.

She was pleasurably aware of his moans, his furious thrusts, the way he clutched at her asscheeks, pulling her up on his cock while he plundered into her. She gasped as his stiff, monstrous prick pushed in for a moment even further than before, sending a streak of pain through her belly. She knew that he was about to reach his own climax and she could feel his huge 11-inch prick swelling and jerking inside her as the warm liquid of his seed spilled deep into her womb.

He stretched out on top of her, panting for some time while she just lay there, completely immobile, sated and exhausted.

He rolled off her at last and lay looking up at the ceiling. She didn't move, she didn't have the energy to move, her legs still spread-eagled, aching and damp, the sperm running down the inner part of her legs.

"You're such a good lover," she finally whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you, daddy."

He leaned over her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "You're the most beautiful after we make love," he said, his hands tickling her lightly.

He got up and put on his robe and walked to the bathroom. She wondered why it was that men could make love and then get up and just walk away as if they had just eaten a good meal. She lay there not wanting to move, wanting to fall asleep, but she knew that she would have to leave.

She followed him into the bathroom watching him as he showered and prepared to go out.

"What are you going to do about this Flanagan character, love," she asked.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he answered. "Haven't I always taken care of these things? Nothing's going to happen to your old daddy, everything's going to be all right."

"Don't do anything that you don't have to," she said weakly, knowing that he would catch her inference.

"That should not concern you. I don't want to have to get rough if I don't have to, but I've got to stop him, so you just leave it all up to me."

She washed herself quickly and got dressed and waited for him in the living room.

In a few minutes he joined her and handed her one hundred dollars.

"That's for being such a good girl. Go buy yourself something nice with it. Its just a little extra that I'm sure you can use."

She nodded, taking the money and folding it into her purse.

"Thank you, darling," she said and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Be sure to let me know what's going to happen and what's going on when you find out. Remember, this affects me too."

She wasn't sure that she should have let him know that she was concerned about the part she may play in this expose, but he didn't seem to be offended at her selfish thought so she let it go at that.

"I'll call you later in the week," he called down the hall to her as she got onto the elevator and disappeared.

She went outside and hailed a cab knowing that she had to go back to the apartment she shared with Lars. Her heart was beating wildly as she stood outside the door, feeling she couldn't bear it if he weren't there, or hadn't even left a note for her. She put the key in the lock and with a trembling hand, pushed the door open.

She peeked inside as though she were almost afraid that he might be there but with that redhead. He must have heard her open the door for when she walked inside he reached out and held her close. She fell into his arms and burst into tears of relief and joy.

He held her close, his face beaming, his eyes dark and shining.

"I've been waiting for you for days, you beautiful bitch you, and then I heard the key in the lock and."

"Oh Lars," she sniffed, "I do love you so." He gave her a little shake and said, "Where in hell have you been? I've been worried sick and no one had heard a word from you."

"I waited for you last night, looked for you today but no one had seen you. I even checked at the 960 Club, but no one knew where you were since you left the party."

She tried to explain where she had been and what Al had told her, but tears kept pouring down her cheeks.

"I wanted to stay away, forget about you, but I knew that I couldn't stay away, so I'm back... back for good," she stammered.

"You damn well better be," he said tenderly.

"But what about the eight hundred dollars, the money that Conrad has been giving me and I spent on clothes?"

"To hell with the eight hundred dollars!" he grinned at her mischievously. "But if you ever do it again, I'll whale the skin off your bones!" He tousled her thick hair. "And what about my redhead?"

They looked at each other with complete understanding and laughed together. Hand in hand they walked right through the living room and into the bedroom, wordlessly stripped off their clothes and clutching each other like drowning people, fell on the bed and made love as though they were doing it together for the first time, and would never be able to do it again. Like one person their bodies rose and fell, twisted and turned. They were like two people who have attained that often sought for but seldom achieved state of complete understanding on the nonverbal level, where each intuitively knew when, where and what the other wanted. Coupled together, murmuring words only of love and understanding, they made love for hours, rapturously, blissfully, pausing only to snuggle peacefully in each other's arms, resting briefly before they began again.

She turned on her side, extending her smooth, rounded asscheeks back towards him, reaching behind him and pulling his hips towards her own. His hands ran tenderly over her body, caressing gently while she moaned softly under his touch. His hands rested on the softly protruding flesh of her abdomen then traveled slowly to the hard, undulating bulge of her pubis.

Exploring, he found the hard little clit which he manipulated until she was a raging storm beneath his caress.

"Wonderful darling, oh yes." she murmured almost indistinctly.

With her writhings his throbbing penis moved to the tiny slit of her pussy and prodded steadily at the small orifice. She reached down and searched for his hardened manhood, grasping it squeezing it for a moment and guiding it gently into her waiting aperture.

Still caressing her clit with his hand, he drove into her aching pussy, feeling the warmness of the vaginal walls as they closed around his throbbing, erect organ. He entered her forcefully with a sensation of hot relief mingled with a passion which drew his lips apart in a little gasp.

As he thrust he felt the tensing of her asscheeks as she pressed in close to him. He let his other hand caress the soft, full roundness of her breasts, pinching nimbly at the erect nipples. He felt that his loins were a mass of tangled nerve ends as he pushed deeper and deeper into her pussy.

"Darling, oh yes... yes." she moaned, wiggling frantically alongside of him trying to force him deeper and deeper into her womb.

"I'll kneel," she whispered. "That way you can go deeper, darling. It's better for both of us." She knelt up, moving her hands and her knees slowly so that she would not lose him while she changed her position, his penis vibrating inside her as she moved.

She lay her head on the pillow and her back sloped up towards him, broadening into the asscheeks between which his pulsing, hard penis seemed to disappear. Lars shuffled his knees between her opened waiting thighs and drove into her like a jackhammer.

He watched his huge, hard cock searing into the pink folds of her flesh as she rocked back and forth against the hairiness of his muscular thighs.

"Oh baby," she moaned, "you feel so good inside me."

Moving his hands over her asscheeks, he rammed into her with growing ferocity. He could see the thick stub of his flesh disappear and withdraw with wet rapidity into her moist and clinging well and feel his loins cushioned against the soft fleshiness of her backside.

Clasping her hips tightly so that his fingers dug red marks into her smooth, porcelain flesh, he surged into her, swiveling his hips for greater pressure. Her passage contracted around him, sucking him in in a tight embrace. She moved her hands helplessly on the sheets and then lifted her arms behind her, reaching back to clasp his hips and pull him at her with greater force.

"Yes... yes... oooooohhhhhhhh," she groaned, feeling the building pressure in her belly.

Feeling her fingers on his hips, virtually asking for even more, he pushed her knees even wider apart with his own and leaned heavily with his hands on her back, forcing her bottom up towards him. He thrust into her, leaving the full length of his massive, rock hard cock buried deep inside her before he withdrew to thrust in again. He kept this punishing piston movement up until tears of sweet, delicious agony were streaming down her face, driving slowly powerfully into her to the very hilt of his immense prick.

Moaning, gasping, he felt her hands release his hips and brush lightly against his testicles, tickling, caressing. She fondled each separately, writhing her bottom on the end of his raging penis and he felt a fresh rush of passion from the cool touch of her fingers on the fiery heat of his dangling testicles.

She began to choke out sounds that he was not sure were groans of passion or of pain so he relaxed his hip-thrusting stabs for just a second.

"No... no... don't stop, please... don't stop," she begged, her hands moving back to his hips trying to pull him closer into her once again.

He battered into her again with renewed passion and lust, each thrust flattening the soft, round globes of her asscheeks as he rocked forcefully into her.

"Now... now... NOW... I'm Cumming... I'm cumming... NOW!" she gasped loudly.

His body was wet from their lovemaking and he knew that it would not be long before he would empty his life-giving sperm deep into her belly.

This sensation grew and grew, a great crushing feeling in his penis as though his whole insides were being pulled out of him through his throbbing prick. He felt powerless to wait any longer, nothing could stop him now, he couldn't have stopped for anything in the world.

He felt the overwhelming weight of an indefinable sensation gathering from the root of his being, seeking an outlet. He was panting furiously, his body heaving with each inward thrust. He felt the floodtide begin to spill and he groaned, "Now... now... I'm cumming now... oh yes here it is!"

She pushed her hips back hard against his jerking loins, ready to accept every drop of his tribute as it spilled hotly into her.

With the last weakening thrust he fell forward on top of her, his full weight crushing her down into the softness of the mattress. He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulders murmuring words of tenderness and love that he had never uttered before.

"Oh, I love you so much, my darling," he choked out.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she almost sobbed, thinking that she had never before been so happy in all of her life.

He rolled off of her and she turned to meet his loving gaze, a glint of happiness showing on both their faces.

They lay there, holding each other, caressing, touching, kissing when they were interrupted by a long, harsh insistent ring of the doorbell. At first they both lay there fearful that whomever it was may hear them and know they were home. They didn't want to spoil their romantic, loving mood and chose to ignore it, but minute after minute the ringing persisted until Lars finally jumped up, threw on his robe and staggered out to the door.

"Damn it all," he muttered, bending over and kissing her lightly on the forehead. "I'll be right back, just as soon as I get rid of whomever's out there!"

Stretching her body languorously, it was as though he were still inside her, for their lovemaking had been so completely full and satisfying that she ached all the way down to her toes, and she felt like one, overflowing, warm, liquid receptacle of love.

She closed her eyes and hugged herself, wishing that he would hurry back to her, hold her and make her feel safe and loved again, but her reverie was shattered by the harsh growl of his voice coming from the hallway and the whine of a woman's voice in return. They were evidently having an argument by the door, but then she heard Lars' footsteps followed by the click of the woman's heels going into the living room. She sat upright in bed and reached for a cigarette, wondering who it could be at this hour that would make Lars forget about her waiting for him in their bed. As they entered the living room their voices became louder and more distinguishable and her body shuddered as she recognized the woman's voice. It was Lacy! Completely shocked she let the cigarette fall from her hand and it began to smolder on the comforter of the bed. She couldn't imagine what had brought her to their apartment at that time of night and was really afraid to think of a reason.

She felt an icy chill pass over her and a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. She jumped out of bed, slipped into a skirt and sweater and ran into the living room. She wanted to be with Lars, be where she could see him.

When she appeared in the doorway of the living room, Lars was standing on the other side of the room, his hands thrust into the pockets of his bathrobe, his head to one side, a thin thread of blue smoke drifting up to one side of his head where his cigarette was dangling. His eyes were half closed and he was staring coldly at Lacy who was standing directly in front of him, but with her back to her. She was swaying slightly from side to side, obviously in a drunken stupor.

Erin paused in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, listening to what Lacy was saying.

"But you've got to believe me, Lars. You've just got to! Its the truth. It is! Honest, it is!" Her voice was high, pleading, tense and full of insistent passion. She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his bathrobe, imploring him to listen to her.

He shrugged her hand away and said coolly, "Why don't you just get the hell out of here? I've heard this story so damn many times that you're getting worse each time you repeat it. So why not pack up and blow!" He took a menacing step toward her and she moved back, tripping over her own feet. "What in the name of God do I have to do to shut you up? Kill you!"

She clutched his arm again, stumbling and falling down on her knees in front of him, putting her arms around his legs and sobbing, "Lars, I love you so. Please believe me and come away with me before its too late."

He reached down and roughly pulled her to her feet. Swaying drunkenly she grabbed his arm, her long, gnarled fingers hanging on to him like the talons of a hawk. "Lars, she shouted, please come with me... please."

"You rotten drunk, for God's sake, pull yourself together and get the hell out of here!"

"Why don't you believe me," she sobbed. "I only did it to get you back. Please believe me... please!" Her voice was shaking and shrill. "Rock said that Erin has left you, so you're free. Free! Please come with me, I'll do anything you say, I promise."

Lars looked at her disgustedly and spat out at her, "So Erin has left me, has she?" He took her by the shoulders and swung her around. "Well, look right over there, you raving maniac," he yelled, pointing at Erin who was standing spellbound in the doorway. "See for yourself, Cindy is right here and what's more, we're getting married immediately!"

In the sudden silence that followed Erin stared at Lars, surprise and joy welling up in her heart. "Oh Lars," she gasped, "you mean really get married? You really mean it?"

He walked over to her and took her in his arms, cradling her like you would a child.

"Of course, darling. I don't want to lose you again!" he murmured.

Lacy glared at the two of them and began to gather her belongings where they lay on the coffee table. "Well," she muttered, "I guess that Rock was wrong, but believe me Lars I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier, they are coming to get you!"

Erin looked up at Lars and his hand brushed over the thick mane of her hair, and kissed the nape of her neck gently.

"What's that all about, Lars," she implored, her eyes showing their concern for him and her love.

"Oh, its just the same old stuff. Every once in awhile Lacy has illusions of grandeur, that she is going to save me from the bulls, but its just so much crap, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"You mean about the narcotics boys picking you up?" she asked.

"Yeah, same story, but nothing's happened yet and she's told me this a million times," he answered. "She's just trying to cause trouble for us and nothing more. She can't accept the fact that I'm in love with you."

He held her close and together they walked back into the bedroom, falling on the bed in a warm embrace.

The next day she felt as though nothing could ever go wrong again. Lars had asked her to marry him and even though he had not set a date, he had said that it would be immediately. She told Lars that she had some shopping to do for the house and for her trousseau, kissed him firmly, deeply and walked out into the warm sunshine. Even though the wind was fairly strong, the weather was warm and pleasant, matching the good, complete feeling that she had inside her. She wasn't going to let anything that Lacy had said bother her any longer. She knew that she was just a jealous woman who had been jilted and she was trying in every way she could to get Lars back.

She grabbed a cab and headed for the downtown area when a car pulled up alongside her cab and someone was motioning to her from the driver's seat.

She looked over and saw that it was Al, so she asked the driver to stop and she hopped out. Al pulled the car over to the curb and helped her in.

"What a stroke of luck finding you like this," he said. "I was going to try the apartment, but I wasn't sure whether or not you had gone back and whether or not Lars would be there."

"Oh yes, Lars was there when I got back and everything is just fine. In fact, were getting married." Her face was radiant and she seemed to be glowing, almost ethereal.

"Well, that may not be a bad idea under the circumstances," he continued. "I hate to throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing, but I'm afraid that I've got some bad news."

Her face clouded and she was almost afraid to ask what had happened. Al had never bothered her with petty rumors and was not the type that delighted in making problems for other people.

"What's the matter? Is it something with Lars," she implored.

"Well, you know what I told you the other day about Joe Flanagan's little investigation on Harris and how you may tie in with him. It seems that that little bastard has dug up some dirt or paid some people to say that you have been swinging not only with Lars and Harris, but with just about anyone else who has the price."

She looked at him in disbelief, her eyes welling up with tears.

"I know that I've been far from perfect, but I've never been a working girl per se."

"I'm afraid that the local gendarmes aren't about to believe that especially since they have records of some of your recent purchases in the local stores and quite frankly, it is way over what you could possibly be making in a square job."

"Well, what can they do? Are they going to arrest me? What's going to happen, I've got to know!" she begged.

"Honey, I'm not sure what they're going to do, but if I were you I wouldn't be seen going into Harris's apartment for some time. They have a tail on him and unfortunately, it involves your tail."

She shook her head, not knowing what she should say, what she should do. Sure she had taken money from Harris, but that had been just to help Lars out when he was short.

"You've been giving money to Lars, right? The money you got from Harris, except for the little bit you stashed?" he asked.

She nodded, not able to speak, the words stuck in her throat and her tongue felt thick.

"Well, sweetheart, technically that makes him a pimp. They can bust you for prostitution and get him for living off the earnings of immorality. They are both felony counts and that adds up to a stretch in prison no matter how you cut it." He glanced over at her as he drove and he could see the tears were streaming down her face where there had been a cheery smile not a few minutes before.

"Well, there is one thing, honey, but it won't be of much help to you," he continued.

"What's that... anything," she asked.

"If they get to you first, and if they have the proof that Harris gave you money, they can arrest you, but you would have to be the one to point the finger at Lars. You'd have to testify that you gave him money, that he was the one who introduced you to Harris and set the arrangement up."

"I'd never do that," she said, shocked at the thought that he would say such a thing.

"You may not have a choice, sweetheart. That's what I'm trying to tell you. The cops already have had their eye on Lars for narcotics, you know that, so they'll get him one way or the other if this whole thing comes to a head. They can put a lot of pressure on a girl like you to get you to talk. So all I'm saying, is... be careful."

She kept her eyes down toward the floor of the car and said, "It doesn't look like I've got much of a chance, do I?"

"Well, just thought I'd warn you. Try not to let it prey on your mind and maybe this whole stinking mess will blow over. How 'bout a drink? I think you could use one."

She nodded and he pulled off onto a side street and toward a bar that she had been to several times before with Lars.

They went to a booth in the back of the bar and sat down. The place was crowded, even though it was still early in the day.

"I brought you here for a reason," Al said. "A lot of the Evening Star reporters hang out in here and if Flanagan comes in I want you to know what he looks like so you can watch out for him."

He ordered martinis for both of them and she sat back and tried to relax. The day had started out so nicely, so beautifully, and now everything was falling apart right in front of her.

She sipped her drink, letting the sting of the alcohol warm her stomach, hoping that it would calm her quivering nerves. She knew that the police could exert pressure on people, but she had never thought that it would affect her. She couldn't believe that it could happen to her, where had she gone wrong? She wanted to call Harris and ask him what he would do, but she knew that even this was risky now as they may have wire-tapped his line. She didn't want to worry Lars with this additional problem, but she wasn't sure that she could carry the burden all by herself. She would have to figure out something - something that she could do all by herself.

She finished her drink and Al ordered another round from the waiter. When the waiter returned with their order he told Al that there was a gentleman at the bar who wanted to see him. He strained his neck and looked toward the bar and saw Joe Flanagan!

"Well, well," he said, "looks like we're in luck. Flanagan's at the bar!"

He pointed to a young man wearing a wrinkled trench coat and carrying an expensive looking attaché case.

"That, my dear girl, is Flanagan. Your wolf in sheep's clothing. Will you excuse me for a moment while I see what the dear boy wants. He doesn't know that I've been tipping you off, so maybe he'll have something of interest to tell me. Be right back. Order another drink if you want one before I return."

He patted her hand and winked at her and moved down the crowded bar to where Flanagan was standing.

"Afternoon, Joe," he said cheerily, "what brings you into a saloon so early in the day?"

"Not much, Al. I saw your car outside, so I thought that you were probably in here and I've got to ask your advice on something. Do you have a spare minute, it's really very important?"

"Sure, always glad to help a struggling young reporter," he answered, hoping that he had not seen Erin with him.

Flanagan looked peaked and troubled and his voice was shaking as he repeated his story to Al.

"I got this phone call the other day warning me to lay off of Harris or I'd be wearing cement shoes and dumped in the lake. I know this guy Harris can play rough, but I don't think he's so stupid as to have me wiped out, especially when he knows that my story will be printed, as is, if anything happens to me." His words came out sure enough, but it was obvious that he was just trying to convince himself and was looking for some reassurance.

"What do you think," he continued. "You've been in this game. Were you ever threatened?"

"Well, I never was very big on exposes, Joe, but it would seem to me that you're getting too close to Harris for comfort if he would threaten you like that."

"That's what I thought and I don't want to give up on this story. It will be the biggest break of my life if things go right and I can follow it through."

"I'm not trying to scare you, Joe," Al said, "but Harris owns a lot of this town, both inside and outside the law and there is no question that you're playing with fire, but from a newspaper standpoint, I think it would be a shame to quit. Have anything new on the case?" He hoped that he didn't sound too inquisitive or too anxious to get information, but Joe seemed eager to talk so he thought he'd take his best shot.

"There have been a few new developments actually. It seems that Lars Mahoney, a young punk around town has been pretty tight with Harris, supplying him with girls, dope, the whole shot, and if we can get him first I think we'll have a better chance at Harris." Al listened intently, hoping that Joe would go into more detail so that he could be of more help to Erin.

"What do you plan to do with him," Al asked. "I've seen Mahoney around, but know him only slightly and it seems that he runs a pretty tight ship."

"It won't be easy, but Mahoney's girlfriend is Harris's shack-up and favorite pastime, so we hope that we can nail him that way. It's just a shot in the dark, but that's the way we plan on working it."

Al was afraid that this is what they would have in mind, but he tried not to let his concern show on his face as he excused himself.

"Good luck, Joe. I hope I was some help, but it's your neck, so do what you think best."

"Yeah, thanks a lot... for listening anyway, I guess you're right. I'll keep you posted," he replied.

Al walked back to the table and sat down.

"Well, what's the verdict," Erin asked. "You don't look so happy. What did you find out?"

"It doesn't look good, I've got to tell you that. They plan on getting to Lars through you and through Lars to Harris. Looks as though they'll be hounding you first, so be on the lookout."

"Well... that's charming. Now I'll be afraid to walk outside without the fear of someone stopping me and taking me right in. Can they do that?" she asked hesitantly.

"Technically, they can bold you on suspicion of anything at all without proof for seventy-two hours, and in that time they can get pretty persuasive."

"You're so encouraging, Al," she said, trying to laugh, but her insides were churning from fright.

"Well, sweetheart, try to forget it for the time being. I don't think it's something that they're going to do right away. They've got to have pretty strong evidence before they make a move like that. Just play it cool and ride with the punches."

"Well, in that case I think I'll have another drink. Okay?" she said.

"Sure, anything you want." he answered and motioned for the waiter to bring another round.

She finished her third martini and was beginning to feel a little more relaxed. The alcohol was dulling the realization that she could be in some serious trouble, and at least this would take her mind off the problem for the moment.

"Are you going to be all right if I leave you here," Al asked. "I don't think we'd better be seen talking together in view of what Joe just told me. If he sees us I doubt that I will get any more information from him and it could make things worse!"

"No... no... that's okay, I'll be just fine. You go ahead, I'm just going to sit here for a moment and finish my last drink and then head for home. I don't think that I'll say anything to Lars about this just at the moment, it might make him more nervous and he doesn't need anymore problems at the moment."

"I think that that would be wise, sweetheart. Just keep what I've told you to yourself and wait and see what happens. Don't get depressed. If anything happens you can bet that I'll be right there to see what I can do."

"Thanks Al, thanks so much, you're a real friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She watched him leave and she wanted to cry, but she knew that she would have to face whatever came along. She didn't want to risk losing Lars, especially now that they had just rediscovered each other again, she couldn't take that.

She finished her drink and sat there for a minute, smoking a cigarette and debating whether or not she would risk calling Harris. It seemed that he always had the answers and what could they possibly prove by a phone call.

She snuffed out her cigarette, put on her coat and walked outside into the chilling air of the Chicago Loop.

The streets were fairly crowded and she couldn't find a taxi so she began walking, trying to decide what she should do. She didn't know what the police could do to her, but Al seemed to know what he was talking about and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize Lars. She knew that she shouldn't go to Harris, but it seemed like the only way out. She had to risk a phone call. She walked to the nearest phone booth to call Lars and tell him that she wouldn't be home until later, but there was no answer. She deposited another dime and dialed Harris's number and let it ring several times. She was about to hang up when he answered the phone.

"Oh hello, darling," he said. "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"Conrad," she said, her voice trembling, "I've got to talk to you. Something else has come up. Can I come over?"

"Certainly, Cindy," he said, his voice low and sympathetic. "In fact I'm having a few people over this evening and it will be a good chance to show you off. Come right over." And he hung up.

Her legs were trembling as she walked the last few blocks to his apartment. She wasn't sure that she had done the right thing, but she had made the call, she was, going over there, so it was too late now.

When she arrived at his apartment there were several other men already there. She assumed that they were business associates of Conrad's, so she smiled congenially when he introduced her around and then steered her toward the bar.

"What'll it be, my love," he said.

"Better stick to martinis, I've already had several already."

"Hmmmmm, it must have been a rough day. Why don't you bring your drink into the study and tell me what this is all about?"

He led her into the other room, patting her affectionately on the behind as she stepped through the doorway.

She seated herself in an overstuffed leather chair and kicked off her shoes, raising her knees just high enough to afford him a clear view of her long, slim legs and the bulge of soft flesh above her stockings.

"Conrad, I hardly know where to begin, but I saw Al again today, the fellow who first warned me about Flanagan and you. It seems that the police and the newspaper have some incriminating evidence about our relationship, the fact that I have been giving the money you give to me to Lars and they plan to make a start on the case right there. I've never been in a situation like this before and I'm not sure what I should do or what I should say." Her voice was shaking from nervousness, and becoming slightly thick from the affect of the martinis.

"Well, that does present a new picture, doesn't it," he said, sliding his arm around the back of the chair.

"You know," she continued, "that you are the only other man besides Lars that I see, but the way the police will make it look won't be good. I'm sure you don't want that kind of exposure."

"You're quite right, my dear," he said, leering down the front of her dress and taking in the full-blown curve of her breasts.

"Al told me that the police plan on getting to Lars through me and to you through Lars. You know that I would never rat on Lars and that he would never say anything about you, but they do have ways of finding out things and I'm scared."

"It isn't the most pleasant situation in the world, I know," he said, speaking softly, "but prostitution is the oldest profession in the world and John Law does frown upon women making their living that way." He laughed weakly, hoping that he could make her feel more at ease, but his own mind was going a million miles a minute. He couldn't afford to be the only one to be known as her paramour, especially since he was paying for it. His image would be shattered, to say nothing of what they could do to him legally if Lars ever talked to save his own neck.

"I'll see what I can do, sweetheart," he said, trying to console her, but realizing that the alcohol was dulling her senses and perhaps she wasn't hearing a word he was saying.

She got up from her chair and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips.

"Oh Conrad," she murmured, "I don't know what I'd do without your strength. You always know exactly what to do."

He held her close and she could feel a rising bulge grow beneath his trousers, and her fingers closed lightly around it.

"Tell you what, Cindy," he said, breathing heavily, "will you do me a favor in return?"

"Anything you want... anything at all," she said, swaying against him slightly.

"Well, the men who are outside are very important people to me, close associates, and maybe we could give them a little party tonight?" His voice was tender, but she knew by the way that he said it that she had no choice in the matter at all.

"But that's what the police want to prove I'm doing," she pleaded, pulling away from him slightly.

"I know, darling," he went on, "but this is just a private little party and you know that you're safe here." His voice became more authoritative as he spoke and once again he pulled her close to him, running his hands up and down over the curve of her spine and resting on the full, soft globes of her asscheeks.

"If you think it will be all right," she condescended, "but I'll have to call Lars and tell him I won't be home till later. I couldn't reach him earlier."

"Never mind that," he whispered, "I'll call him for you and tell him you're doing me a special favor... for a special price... and I'm sure he won't mind." He chuckled softly and pinched her soundly on the behind and sent her out into the other room.

The men were all standing around drinking and talking among themselves when she entered the room. Their conversations stopped and all eyes were on her, mentally undressing her.

"Don't let me interrupt... please," she said with a forced seductive smile. "Conrad will be out in just a moment."

One of the men came over to her and grabbed her around the waist. "You're quite young... and so attractive. Where has Conrad been hiding you."

She knew that she would have to be nice to these men, so she raised her eyes to meet his gaze and said, "Well, he's been keeping me all to himself, up to now that is!" There was promise in her voice and the other men were now listening to her conversation as she teased this other man.

Her voice shook with apprehension and she wondered if one of these men might be a police inspector. Conrad did have some of the law on his side and many of the men on the force were "friends" of his, but she tried to block this from her mind.

The man's hand tightened around her waist and he bent to kiss the nape of her neck.

"Well, well," he murmured, "Maybe Conrad will allow us to share the wealth."

He had just finished speaking when Conrad appeared at the door, saying, "Of course, she is such a lovely creature, it does seem a shame to hide her. You don't mind, do you dear?"

She slid away from the man's grasp and walked to the bar.

"No, I don't mind, Conrad," she said quiveringly, "but I do think that I'll have another drink first." She was hoping that she could consume enough liquor so that she would not be fully cognizant of what was about to happen.

The other two men were now watching her as her hips undulated towards the bar and she poured herself another martini. As she bent to put the ice in her glass, her dress gaped just enough in front so they could all see the round, soft fullness of her ripe breasts as they pushed against the confines of the material. She looked up at them as they all stared at her as though they were about to attack.

God, she thought, how can I take on so many men in one evening, what will they do to me?

She gulped down her drink as one of the older men moved toward her. He didn't even look as though he would be able to make love, he looked too decrepit!

He was ugly. His lips were thin and hard and his nose was bulbous and veined, his sparse hair lay like a cobweb on his head, but his eyes were glinting with animal lust. His gaze was taking her in, prying deep beneath her dress and uncovering every inch of her flesh.

She glanced over at Conrad who was sitting on the couch and merely nodded to her that she was doing just fine.

"Give the boys a good time, love," he finally said. "I'm sure you'll be amply rewarded."

"Yes indeed," they all said in unison. "I haven't had such a young piece in a long time. This is going to be a real pleasure!"

Conrad went over and put on some low, soft mood music and hinted to Erin that perhaps she could start by doing a strip for them.

She hadn't counted on this. She didn't mind stripping in front of Conrad, because she knew that this stimulated him, but she had hoped that the room would be dark when she had to be with the other men. She didn't want to see their faces, didn't want to have to face the fact that she was just giving her body to men that repulsed her.

She stood there frozen to the spot for several minutes when Conrad said impatiently, "Well, my dear. Let's get with it!"

She had never heard his voice so commanding, but she thought that this was just because the other men were there and he wanted to show his authority.

Slowly she moved from behind the bar and began to sway in time with the music, rotating her hips sensually. She stood on her toes, stretching her body and throwing her fully rounded bosom forward as she reached behind her and began to undo the zipper of her dress. The material slid off easily over the silky sheerness of her lingerie and she stood in front of the men clothed only in her half-bra, garter belt, black silk stockings and sheer bikini briefs. An almost inaudible gasp came from all the men as they stared at the perfect proportions of her young, supple body.

She heard one of them say, "I can't wait to get at that!" The comment disgusted her, but she continued her undulating, and sensual writhing around the room. She raised one leg slightly and propped it on the chair in a pretense of straightening her stocking, giving the men a better view of the cleavage of her asscheeks where the thin panties were pulled tight.

The men were seated at different points in the room, so she walked slowly by all of them, letting them ogle her curves and reach out and fondle the smoothness of her exposed flesh.

"What a piece of ass," one said. "Just look at all those beautiful curves!"

Reluctantly, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra. The soft, full mounds of her EE-cup breasts fell free, bouncing slightly as she walked. The nipples were pointing pertly upward as they became erect when they felt the cool air hit them. The older, ugly man reached out and squeezed one breast harshly causing her to cry out in pain.

"Leave her alone," the other two murmured. "Let her get completely undressed."

The man released his biting grip on her breast and she continued her sensual dance. All the men were breathing rapidly and she could see the rise of their penises as she walked from one to the other. Their hands were rubbing impatiently on their thighs, stimulating themselves even further.

She reached down and unhooked the stays of her garter belt, affording them a glorious view of the firmness of her thighs and the bulge of her hips where they rounded out into the fullness of her asscheeks. Her stockings fell loosely around her ankles and she stepped out of them, letting them on the floor where they fell. In just another moment she stood before them completely nude and voluptuous. The men stared at her for several minutes, almost in awe of her beauty, but slowly began disrobing. Conrad did not move from his chair, but just sat back and watched the circus that was about to begin.

The first man to get undressed was the horrid, older man and she felt as though she would be sick as he moved toward her. He reached out and let his hands wander wantonly over her young, firm body, devouring every inch of exposed flesh and pulling the cheeks of her soft, round asscheeks apart and running his fingers deeply into the crease of her behind. She cringed at the thought of this disgusting man touching her, but she did nothing to resist.

She glanced over at Conrad, her stomach churning at the thought of what he was subjecting her to, but knowing that there was nothing she could do about it. She was completely in his power, to do his bidding, even if it meant entertaining his guests.

The other two men were standing over her, leering down, watching while the ugly one caressed her resilient flesh, waiting impatiently for their turn at her.

"Make her lie down," one of the other commanded the older man.

Without waiting for him to force her down, she lay down on the soft pile of the rug, her thighs pressed closely together, trying to hide her vulnerable spot. One of the men grabbed her ankles and forced her legs harshly apart.

"Let's see what she's trying to hide," he choked out, his breath thick with passion.

The other man knelt down beside her and ran his hand up the inside of her smooth supple thigh, pinching every inch or so, making her jump slightly off the floor. So far they had done nothing but fondle her and she was beginning to think that perhaps this was all they wanted. She looked up and saw three erect, huge penises bobbing over her body, throbbing with desire and lust. She had never felt so humiliated, so degraded in her life.

Finally one of the men, the ugly one, moved behind her head and began to run his fingers over her eyes, nose and lips, inserting two fingers into her mouth which was dry. Her eyes closed tightly, trying to block out the image of the face that was above hers. He forced her mouth open with prying fingers and she could feel him rise to his knees just in back of her shoulders. She felt a rush of air as his pulsing prick jerked up and down over her face just before he forced his monstrous, 10-inch veined tool into her mouth.

"Suck it, baby," he grunted. "Suck it good. Lick it!"

She wanted to be sick, but she obeyed him, running her tongue over the entire length of his prick.

"Look at her work," one of the other men stammered. "God, she's eating the whole thing - she's a goddamned circus freak!"

Her shoulders were pinned to the floor by the older, ugly man's knees, leaving the rest of her body at the other two's disposal. She felt one pair of hands run tickling up her thighs until they found the tiny pink bud of her clit. The other pair of hands were holding her ankles firmly well spread, like she were tied and quartered. Fingers manipulated her clit, rubbing it insistently until she began to feel an involuntary tightness grow in her loins.

No... no... she thought, I can't let this happen. I can't let these awful men arouse me. How can Conrad just sit there and let them do this to me.

"God, what a pussy," the man choked as he ran one finger up and down the tight, elastic slit of her pussy. She could feel her juices begin to flow and when he inserted one long hard finger into her pussy, she could feel the walls of her womb close involuntarily around it.

"Whew... she's tight, so damn tight!" he murmured.

He moved his finger in a vibrating fashion inside her until she thought she would scream, but her mouth was filled with the other man's huge, pulsing cock. He was rocking back and forth on his ankles, forcing his erect, thick prick deeper and deeper into her throat until she thought that he would make her swallow it.

"That's it! Keep it up! Suck it... harder... harder. Ohhhh godDAMN!" he whimpered as she sucked and ran her tongue over his fat pulsating prick. "I'm getting there... just keep it up, slut!"

"You keep it up if you can," one of the other men laughed. "That's probably the, first hard on he's had in years!"

The man's chiding bruised his ego and he could feel himself losing control of himself and was afraid he would lose his erection.

"Reach around me," he commanded. "Grab my ass. Pull me into you... deeper!"

She reached up in back of her head and pulled his bony behind closer toward her face.

"Finger me," he ordered, his erection becoming strong once again.

Her fingers ran in the crease of his asscheeks and she pulled reluctantly at the almost fleshless cheeks, searching for the tiny aperture of his ass. She didn't want to do what he had ordered, but when he felt her finger at his opening, he sat back almost immediately, forcing her tiny, slim finger inside his ass.

"Aaagggggghhhh," he gasped. "That's it... nice... nice!"

She felt him impaled on her hand and in her mouth as he rocked closer and closer to his orgasm. The thought of his sperm shooting into her throat made her nauseous and her stomach jerked up and down as though she would be sick.

The other two men watched completely enthralled at the erotic sight, forgetting their own passions for the moment. Her body began to writhe and thrash uncontrollably as the older man began to wrack out his climax, shooting the hot liquid deep into her mouth.

"Uuuuuuggggghhhhh," she gasped as she felt him go soft and slowly slide out of her mouth. His penis no longer had the length to reach her mouth and it raked slipperily over her face, leaving a thin, sticky trail of sperm as he pulled away and collapsed backwards on the rug.

When he had finished the other two men began to tantalize and abuse the lower half of her body. Her legs were pulled so far apart that she thought she would split. Her thighs ached from the pressure being exerted on her ankles, the strain against the juncture at her hips. Hands began to prod and pinch the flesh of her thighs, squeezing, hurting and she cried out in pain.

"Nooooo, not so hard... you're hurting me!" she pleaded, but this only seemed to excite them even more.

They laughed wickedly at her pain and she screamed to Conrad to help her, but he was no longer sitting in the chair, he had gone! Four hands were mauling her whole body, plunging and prodding at every inch of exposed supple, soft flesh until she felt that she would be one huge bruise. Two fingers thrust roughly into her dry, aching pussy, wiggling furiously until once again she could feel her own lust beginning to take control of her body. She relaxed slightly and whimpered, "Oh no... Oooohhhhhhnooooooooo."

"I do believe that we're getting this little bitch hot," one man laughed as they watched her try to buck away from their advances.

"Please... please... stop... stop," she begged, but they just chuckled wickedly and continued their cruel fingering.

The man who had been holding her ankles moved further up on her body and closed his mouth over the fleshy, round mountain of one breast, sucking lasciviously at the nipple until it stood up, erect and aching in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the pink bud teasingly until she was moaning abandonly, completely controlled and powered by the fire that was building helplessly in her loins.

"Aagggghhhhh... ooohhhhhhh," she groaned, while the two men worked on her. The other man removed his fingers from her now damp pussy and began to tweak the erect little clit until she thought she would go out of her mind.

"Please... please." she begged half inaudibly.

"Now she's begging me for it," he choked out, laughingly.

His hands held her thighs firmly apart and he lowered his face within an inch of her pubis and let his tongue flick out in snake-like fashion, just brushing the pink bud of her clit and scrape wetly over her pussylips and slit.

"Ooooohhhhhh God" she moaned, "Ooohhhh God nooooo."

He teased and prodded with his tongue for several minutes longer before covering her aching denied passage with his warm, wet mouth and began sucking loudly.

She thrust her hips up towards his face so that he would have better access to her open wound.

He was driving her out of her mind and she wanted a man inside her. It didn't matter who it was, just as long as someone was going to fuck her!

"Give it to me," she pleaded, "I can't stand it any more!"

Tears of degradation and humiliation were running down her cheeks as the words came out of her mouth. She tried to reach down with her hands and pull the man's mouth in closer to her, but he was just out of reach, so she grabbed at the head that was sucking viciously on her breast. Her eyes were closed and she was rocking back and forth in animal ecstasy when she heard footsteps just over her head. She looked up and Conrad was standing above her, leering down, grinning menacingly.

"You're giving quite a little party," he said. "I've brought someone else to watch!"

She looked up through the haze of passion and Conrad was motioning to another man to come into the room.

"He's just another friend of mine, sweetheart," he said, but the warmness had disappeared from his voice. "Don't let him bother you. You can be introduced later."

The two men who were making love to her did not even stop to see who it was that had walked in and continued their passionate, sensual rape of her body.

She closed her eyes again and let the animal instincts completely take control of her every nerve. She could feel the hardness of one man's huge penis as it jerked against her and her fingers closed around it, massaging it vigorously until he moved up on her and thrust it cruelly, hardly into her mouth. She sucked on it like a dying woman, like she had never had anything so good. Meanwhile the other man, who had been mouthing her moved between her knees and she could feel the hard length of his long prick jerking spastically against her thigh.

She moaned weakly, trying to mouth the words "Fuck me," but her mouth was filled. She wanted that giant, erect prick inside her, deep inside her, hurting her, fucking her, making her cum! She wriggled her hips violently, begging with each movement for him to take her, but he was making her wait.

Slowly he moved up on her until she felt his steel-like prick pulsing against the moist lips of her pussy, prodding painstakingly at the tiny opening. She lifted her hips off the carpet until she could feel the purplish swollen head of his penis gently parting her pubic hair and pushing through the tiny ring of her open, wet pussy.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she whimpered, still sucking noisily on the other's cock.

He could feel the entire length of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth while he watched the other man take her from the other end.

Her insides were on fire with desire and she thrashed up and down like a combine.

The thickness of his penis was filling her pussy and she could feel her damp vaginal walls close around the shaft with each increasing stroke. God, she had never felt like this in her life. She had never had two men make love to her at the same time and she was enjoying it!

The tightness in her loins was building to the breaking point and she knew that she was about to explode... about to cum!

She could feel an increasing swelling of the prick in her mouth and she sucked on it even harder, hoping that he would cum the same time she exploded. She was getting, a new, exciting, lewd kind of thrill from this obscene circus.

She felt his huge, erect penis begin to jerk wildly in her mouth and his sperm began to shoot into her, deep into her throat. She sucked it harder, hoping to keep his climax going while she jerked out her own.

"Oooooohhhhh... aaagggggghhh," she gasped, as she felt the walls of her pussy contract and expand around the monstrous, delicious prick that was worming around salaciously inside her contracting belly.

She gasped and the penis in her mouth slid out, but she was cumming and she could think of nothing else.

"Oh yes... yes... I'm cumming... I'm cummmmmmming!" she almost screamed, bucking her hips up against his pounding organ.

"God, she's hot... yes... sooooo hot," the other man moaned as he, too, began to jerk his cum far up into her belly. Each stroke drove deeper and deeper and he pulled her hips up toward him until her knees were pinned back against her chest.

"I'm cumming... I'm cumming, too." he groaned, as the last of his spasms exploded deep inside her.

The three men and Erin lay exhausted, breathing heavily on the floor, trying to regain some composure.

When they began to stir, Conrad addressed the group.

"Gentlemen... Erin, my love," he said, "I'd like you to meet Fred Johnson."

He was referring to the gentleman who had just come into the room, whom she had seen while the men were making love to her.

The men got to their feet, pulling on their trousers hurriedly and trying to look presentable, but obviously embarrassed.

"Don't worry, gentlemen," the new man said, "It's the little lady that I'm interested in."

She looked up at him and then back at Conrad, trying to see in his face who this man was and what he wanted.

Conrad continued, "You see, Erin, since the police already think you've turned whore and since you told me that I was your only customer, I thought that Fred here might show you the ropes and get you a few more. We can't disappoint the law, now can we?"

She stared at him in disbelief, disgusted and completely humiliated by his triumphant smile.

"There is no reason why Fred can't share the wealth. After all, I owe him a few favors and I've decided to make him a present of you. You can make him a very wealthy man."

"But... what about Lars," she stammered.

"Oh, you can continue to live with him for the time being, but believe me, unless you play ball with Fred, you will be in a world of trouble and so will Lars. Do you understand me!"

She nodded and blinked back tears that were welling up in her eyes. So they were going to turn her out... turn her into a common whore... a prostitute.

It was almost ironic, however. She had never thought of herself that way, yet she had taken on the three friends of Conrad's and enjoyed it!

She resigned herself to his command. After all, she had no choice and maybe she could make some good money to help she and Lars get out of this awful mess.

Hesitantly she got up and walked to the bathroom, taking her clothes with her. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping that she would wake up and find out that it had just been a bad dream, but she could hear the laughter and the voices coming from the other room and she knew that she was in too deep now to ever get out.

She walked back into the living room and sat down, her head in her hands. She felt nauseous, half from the martinis and half from disgust. She didn't know how she would be able to explain this to Lars. He had never actually tried to turn her out to go with any man who had the price, even though she knew that she could make a lot of money. Lars had always done all right on his own through his connections in the dope scene, but now it looked as though she was going to have to go with any man that Fred told her to. Harris was acting strangely towards her now. She knew that this was just his way of protecting himself in case she would ever have to testify. If the police had witnesses that she had become a prostitute, she wouldn't stand a chance.

The men didn't even seem to notice that she was sitting there, they went on with their conversation completely ignoring her. She was embarrassed, humiliated and completely ashamed as she got up and went to get her coat.

"I'm leaving now," she barely whispered.

"Night," they called in unison.

"I want to see you tomorrow morning back here," Fred said, Harris nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, okay," she answered, and opened the door and ran down the hall to the elevator.

The cool night air felt refreshing on her face, but the filth that she felt inside could not be cleansed. She walked to the nearest phone booth and called Lars. He told her that he had just gotten in and that he was going over to Shoo-Fly's apartment and that he would meet her there. She was hardly in the mood for a party, but maybe it would take her mind off what had happened earlier in the evening.

She wasn't far from Shoo-Fly's apartment so she decided to walk rather than take a cab, besides, she needed time to think things out. She just couldn't tell Lars, but she would have to think of some excuse so that he wouldn't become suspicious if she had to be away overnight, and that wouldn't be easy! She knew that Lars would be leery of her actions since she had left him for a day or so, just a few days before. She pulled her coat closer around her and hurried down the street to Shoo-Fly's apartment.

Shoo-Fly's "mistress" opened the door when she knocked and "he" whisked her into the living room where just a few people were sitting around, listening to records, smoking pot and talking. Lars was not there yet so she decided to help herself to a joint and relax on one of the many cushions that we're scattered around on the floor. The acrid smell of the smoke permeated the room and she could already hear muffled giggles coming from another part of the house. Typical Shoo-Fly party, she thought to herself.

Finally Shoo-Fly appeared in the doorway and gave her an enthusiastic embrace.

"Welcome, you sweet thing," he giggled. "As you can see, it's the same old group!"

She looked around to see if Al was there, but he was nowhere in sight. She lay back on the cushion and let the marijuana take its affect. She didn't need much since she had been drinking martinis in the afternoon and earlier that evening. The music vibrated and spun in her head and she was about to drift into a hazy twilight when she heard Lars' voice.

"Well, there you are, my love," he said, "I've missed you today," and he bent over and gave her a warm kiss.

She looked up at him tenderly, thinking that she would do anything in the world not to hurt or worry him.

"Sit down, love," she said, patting a place next to her on the cushion.

"Just a minute, let me get a joint," he added, and walked to the bar and took one from a silver cigarette case and lit it

She looked around the room and spotted Carla, the ex-stripper, who had first introduced her to "H." She had not tried it since Shoo-Fly's last party, but she wasn't getting the affect from the pot that she usually got and thought that maybe later she would try it again.

"Hi Carla," she called out. "Haven't seen you around. Where've you been?"

"Just around," she said, "what's new with you."

Erin got up from her cushion and walked over to her, meeting Lars halfway across the room.

"Be back in a second, sweetheart," she said. "Carla," she inquired, "do you have any more of that white stuff with you tonight?"

"Sure, honey. You want to try some? Not getting the same kicks you were before, eh?" She laughed, a drug-high laugh.

"Well, yes, that's part of it. I just need something to make me forget I'm alive!"

"Things bad? Thought you and Lars were thick as thieves now."

"We are, that's part of the problem."

"Well, I won't pry, but come with me and let Mama Carla fix you up."

She followed Carla into the kitchen and watched her as she measured out a portion of the crank and handed it to her.

"You remember how I told you to take it?" she asked.

"You sniff from one side first and then the other, right?"

"You got it, kid. Go to it!"

She bent over the white powder and inhaled part of it deeply into one nostril, then did the same with the other. She didn't feel the same dizziness, nausea, that she did the first time she tried it. Her head felt light, her whole body felt light, she felt as though she could conquer the whole world! She walked, or rather floated, back into the living room and sat down next to Lars and put her arms around him.

"I love you so much," she said, but she thought that her voice sounded as if it were coming from somewhere else. She giggled and he pulled her close to him.

"What have you been smoking?" he said chidingly.

"Just had one joint," she laughed, "But a whole lot of something else!"

"You took some horse?" he demanded.

"What of it?" she replied.

"Nothing, honey," his voice more concerned than angry, "but just so you know how to handle it."

She heard the words that he was saying, but they floated somewhere around her head without really getting through.

"I feel so good, so warm, how could it possibly be bad?" she asked, not entirely innocently. She had heard stories of people getting completely hooked on junk and not living for anything else but their next fix, but she was certain that it wouldn't happen to her.

He kissed her lightly on the cheek, knowing that she was not comprehending anything that he was saying, or even listening. I'll talk to her tomorrow, he thought.

He knew that something was bothering her for her to try crank again, but now was not the time to ask her. He couldn't imagine what it could be unless she was upset about Lacy's visit the night before, but he passed over that because she had seemed so happy that morning.

"Cindy," he whispered, "You know what can happen. Just don't let it happen to you! In fact, I won't let it!"

She just looked at him with vacant eyes, her mind a million miles away in her own little reverie.

She put her head down on the pillow, closed her eyes and fell asleep. Lars watched her for about fifteen minutes then got up and wandered around the room aimlessly, trying to figure out what had happened to make her take this giant step. He knew that she had been upset that he had left Shoo-Fly's last party with that redhead, but they had straightened that out. The only other thing was Lacy's accusations, warnings and untimely visit, but he was certain that it wasn't that.

He was about to walk back into Shoo-Fly's playroom when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a man's voice addressing him.

"Greetings pal," he said.

"Oh hi, Al," Lars replied, "back to the den of iniquity I see."

"Well, I hadn't planned on coming, but I heard that you and Erin would be here, so I thought I'd drop by."

"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd think that you had eyes for my girl," he said laughingly.

"Well, actually," Al replied, "don't know if she told you, but I did have a drink, with her this afternoon."

"Oh!"

"Don't get the wrong idea. She was on her way to go shopping, but there is something that I found out that is of interest to both of you, actually."

"What's that? Anything important? Cindy has been acting strangely this evening, maybe you can shed some light on the situation."

"I thought she may have decided to tell you, Lars, but honestly, I think she was afraid that you didn't need anything else to worry about."

"She's right on that count, but what is it anyway?"

Al told him briefly what he had found out about Harris, Joe Flanagan's investigation and how they were going to try to nail Erin in order to tie in Lars and Harris.

"That's just lovely... fucking lovely," Lars stammered. "What did Cindy plan on doing, keeping it a secret forever?"

"I don't know, but you know that she would never do anything to hurt you."

"That poor sweet, dumb kid," Lars said, "I guess I'll have to have a talk with her in the morning. I wouldn't let those bastards take advantage of her, she's too real. You meet so few real people, and she's one of them."

"Well, don't tell her I said anything to you. Let her think you found it out all by yourself... That way you keep both of us in good graces!"

"Sure thing," he said, "And thanks a lot. Many, many thanks."

Lars wandered towards the back of the apartment and stood outside the door of the playroom. He wished that Erin hadn't passed out because he would have liked to make love to her, but that was impossible now. He could hear giggling and moans coming from inside the room and he rubbed his hands briskly over his thighs as he debated whether or not he should go in. He didn't want to take the chance of Erin's waking up and catching him again, but he knew that she would sleep for at least another hour or so, so he opened the door and walked into the ante-room.

"Well, hello there," a voice, a woman's voice, said.

He turned around, surprised that someone else was waiting there before going in and joining in on the fun.

"What's the matter, love? In need of some loving that your little girlfriend can't handle?"

When his eyes had become adjusted to the light, he realized that the voice belonged to a reasonably sober Lacy! He looked at her, his eyes taking in the flabbiness of her flesh, the wrinkles in her face where once there had been firmness and youth.

"Not exactly," he answered her, "Just thought that I'd get some diversion while she is indisposed, anything wrong with that?"

"Nothing at all, sweetheart," she murmured, moving closer to him and running her hands over his muscular chest and waist.

"Hold on a minute, Lacy," he said slowly, "I didn't say that you were going to be my diversion!"

"Oh Lars... please... please," she pleaded, dropping to her knees and grasping the back of his thighs as she lowered herself.

He was about to pick her up and bent to put his hands under her arms to lift her when she grabbed his soft penis and closed her mouth over it. He straightened up, startled by her forwardness, but stimulated by the warmth of her mouth and tongue as it encouraged him into an erection.

"Oohhhhhhh," he gasped as he felt the tightening build between his legs.

"Let's go inside," she whispered, taking her mouth from him for just a second and tugging firmly at his legs.

He opened the door to the mattress and pillow-covered room and they fell together twisting and turning like animals in heat.

"I knew that you would come back to me, Lars," she murmured. "I knew you still loved me."

Lars was barely listening to what she was saying, but tried to put everything out of his mind, except for the fact that his need had to be satisfied. He knew that it was wrong to let her believe that he did care for her again, but he was breathing too rapidly and his lust was too great to risk her leaving him, so he said nothing. She ran her tongue up and down his body until he was twitching ecstatically beneath her oral caress and his massive organ was standing upright from his loins.

She paused for a moment and looked at his great and throbbing manhood before, once again, closing her mouth over it. It filled her mouth until she thought she would choke, but she didn't want to let it go. She sucked voraciously, licking the veined underside at the same time, taking every inch that she could in her throat of his thick 9-incher.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm. Aaaahhhhhhhhh," he groaned as her fingers began to tickle his swollen hanging testicles, sending shivers throughout his whole being.

He could feel the heat from her aging body against his flesh, and even though her breasts were not as firm as they had once been, they were still full and soft against him. He put one hand around one of her soft, full globes and squeezed gently at first, then harder, pinching the nipple into erectness.

"Yes... yes... Lars... yes," she whimpered, tingling from his touch.

She moved on her knees between his legs so that she could reach underneath him and pull his hips up closer and deeper into her mouth, and he could fondle her breasts at the same time.

Her bony fingers slipped under his asscheeks and she ran her fingers into the crease of his behind, prodding and pulling in an effort to find the tiny elastic hole of his ass.

"Agggghhhhh," he moaned as she pulled apart the fleshy cheeks of his asscheeks and slowly moved close to the minute aperture. He was in such a state of passion and need that it didn't matter what she did, the pressure that was building between his legs was the only thing that mattered to him.

His hands tightened their grip on her soft, ripe breasts and she wiggled against him, knowing that her need was as great as his. She had wanted Lars for a long time, so she wanted to make it last as long as possible. She knew that he would cum if she continued her mouthing of his erect, pulsing prick, so reluctantly she pulled her mouth off of him and ran her tongue up his body and bit quickly and sharply at the base of his throat.

He pulled her up on him until she was lying flat on top of him, her thighs lying against his stomach and pubis. She could feel his hard, jerking manhood prod into her flesh demanding satisfaction, so she pressed her body even further and harder into him and kissed him passionately, running her tongue over his gums and thrusting it deep into his throat. He sucked greedily at her tongue as she rocked against his body, driving spasms of lustful joy through his whole being.

"Erin... Cindy," he moaned softly, completely oblivious to the fact that it was Lacy who was on him and not Erin.

Lacy took her mouth away from his and was about to say something or just get up and leave him when she felt his fingers reach down between their bodies and begin to caress the soft down of her pubic mound in an effort to find the bud of her clit. Her own need was so great that she decided to let the fact that he had called her by the wrong name pass over. His fingers were manipulating her roughly until her clit was hard and pulsing with desire.

"Ooohhhhh, yes... yes... yes, baby," she crooned, nibbling at his neck and ears. "Do it."

He worked his fingers in a frenzy, trying to get her to such a point that she would raise her thighs slightly and he could slam his rock hard penis deep into her with the first plunge. His hardened, throbbing prick ached from want and lust and he had to have her.

"Raise up," he ordered hotly, pulling at her thighs insistently.

"Not yet," she murmured softly, knowing that she was driving him out of his mind.

"Yes... yes... now... NOW!" he commanded again, this time shoving one thick finger harshly into the warm, clinging walls of her pussy.

"Oh God," she groaned at the sudden intrusion, but pushed her hips down harder on this impalement. She wriggled on top of him, feeling the thickness of his finger deep inside her and his fingernail scraping lightly against the wet, throbbing walls.

"God what you do to me," she whispered thickly.

"Get on top of me... now... now," he ordered her again, but this time she raised her hips slowly and poised herself directly over his upstanding, jerking, thick prick. He went to pull her down onto him, roughly, with one deep, cruel plunge, but she balanced herself with her knees and her hands on his shoulders and eased herself down slowly until she could feel the angry red cockhead of his manhood tease the tender, hot lips of her pussy.

"Just a little... just a little," she whispered. "Just a little at a time."

He could hardly stand his frustration, but allowed her to lower herself onto him a little at a time, feeling the clinging, wet walls of her hairlined pussy close tightly around his thick, pulsing prick as she eased down on his body.

"Oh yes... you feel so good, so good inside me," she groaned.

"That's it... that's it, baby do it to me!" he gasped, his breath coming rapidly and unevenly.

"I'm going to fuck you... fuck you until you can't remember anything else," she said.

Then with one final lunge she lowered herself completely down on him and she could feel the very end of his prick rubbing-inside her.

Slowly she began to rotate her hips on top of him, feeling every inch of his erect, jerking penis move inside her, filling every inch of her. Her movements became faster and faster until he felt that he would explode any minute. She bucked up and down on him, digging her knees into the side of his chest, holding him tightly.

"Ooohhhhh yes... yes." she moaned, feeling the well of her orgasm about to overflow. "I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum... fuck me... FUCK ME!"

He tried to raise his hips off the mattress on the floor, but she was slamming into him with such force that it was impossible.

"Oh do it... do it," he commanded hotly. "I'm going to cum too!"

She could feel his prick becoming even thicker than before and she knew that he was about to spill into her any second. She felt the tightness and tenseness between her legs quivering and began to let loose as she pushed down on him with all her strength.

"Here I cum," she groaned, her head tossed back, her teeth clenched and bared like a wild mare.

As her own contractions wracked out, she could feel him jerk hotly inside her, filling her with his flood of sperm.

It felt like they came together for hours before she rolled off the top of him and onto the floor beside him. Other couples were making love at various spots in the room, but no one seemed to notice or much care what the others were doing, but each group or couple was wrapped up in their own little orgy.

"Lars," she said finally, "are you going to go away with me now?"

She looked at him afraid to hear his answer, but her eyes pleading pathetically.

"You know I can't do that, Lacy. I've had a ball with you tonight, but that's as far as it goes. You know that I love Erin."

He could have told her anything, made any excuse, but she didn't want to hear that he was in love with another woman.

"You're going to be sorry one of these days, Lars," she threatened, "Mark my words."

"Let's not start that again, okay?" he said, annoyed.

She didn't answer, but got up and went into the other room to get dressed, her stomach churning from his rejection.

Lars lay there for just a few more minutes and then decided to go back into the living room and see what was going on. When he got there Al had left and Erin was still passed out on the floor, sleeping soundly.

He knelt down beside her and touched her hair and face thinking how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to have a girl like her.

The party continued for several hours, but he let her sleep, knowing that she would probably have one hell of a headache when she awoke. He smoked several joints and then lay down beside her. It was about four in the morning when he woke up and reached out for her. She curled up in his arms like a baby and kissed him on the cheek.

"So... you're awake," he said, half-surprised.

"I've just been resting, darling," she murmured. "What time is it?"

He looked at his watch and told her, watching for the look of surprise on her face.

"How long have I been asleep," she asked. "Seems like I've been floating on clouds for hours"

"I should think so. You've been passed out for over five hours. How do you feel?"

"A little shaky, actually, but marvelous!"

"You don't feel sick," he inquired, surprised.

"No... no... not at all."

"What do you say we head for home?"

"My coat's in the foyer," she said. "I'll wait here for you, okay?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Anything you say." And he left to get her coat.

She looked around the room to see if she could still see Carla, and found her lying in one corner, slightly engrossed with a homosexual young man.

"Pardon me, Carla," she said, "but can I see you for a minute?"

"Certainly... be right there."

She followed Erin to another corner and asked her what was on her mind.

"That stuff really had you out. How did you like it?" Carla asked.

"It was great. That's just it!" Cindy told her.

"Well, glad you like it kid. It's the only way to fly," she replied and started to walk back to her faggot friend.

"No... wait a minute," she called out.

"Yes."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I get some more stuff from you tomorrow?"

"You like it that much, eh," she said, laughing.

"Don't kid me," she said, "I'm serious. I want to get some more!"

"Yeah, sure kid. You can get all you want, but you've got to have the price."

Erin just stood there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, shaking.

"How much is it?" she asked, hesitantly.

"It's quite a bit, but I can get a good deal for you if you bring cash and become a regular customer."

"Can Lars get it for me?" she asked.

"Can I get what for you?" Lars interrupted, walking up in back of her.

"Your love wants to graduate to the stronger stuff, Lars."

"Erin," he said, "I'll discuss this with you at home. Let's go!"

Erin was almost in tears of frustration, but started to follow him, then turned back for just a second and told Carla that she would get in touch with her tomorrow.

Lars grabbed her arm and almost dragged her out the door.

"Don't ever do that behind my back," he warned. "You don't know what that stuff can do to you."

Erin just nodded and got into the cab he had hailed, and they rode home in silence.

The next day Lars tried to talk her out of ever calling Carla again, with a weak promise that if she really felt that she needed the extra kick of crank he would get it for her.

She knew that she would need something stronger than alcohol or pot if she were going to have to go through with her arrangement with Fred Johnson. She couldn't face the idea of working as a call girl for him, or for anyone. Lars hadn't told her that he knew about the deal with Flanagan, he had been too concerned with her sudden interest in "H."

She got up early the next day and left a note for Lars that she had some errands to do that she hadn't finished the day before and went out.

She called Shoo-Fly to get Carla's phone number and he told her that she didn't have a phone, but that she lived in a rather sleazy hotel on the other side of town. She didn't have much money, but she decided to take a chance on finding her in a more congenial mood and asking her to trust her for some of the "horse." She knew that it was a slim chance, but she had to have some before she kept her appointment with Johnson.

It took her about an hour to find the hotel and she hesitated before she went in the dirty, broken down building and knocked on Carla's door.

"Whadda ya want?" a voice called out, and she couldn't tell whether or not it was a man's or a woman's!

"It's me... Erin," she answered, "Is Carla there?"

"Well, who the hell do you think this is? Come on in, the door's open."

Erin turned the cockhead and walked into the tiny room. Clothes were lying around on the bed the chair and on the floor. Empty bottles were scattered everywhere and Carla was in bed with some man who had his face covered with the blanket, but Carla didn't seem to mind that she had come in.

"I can come back if you want me to," she said falteringly.

"No... no... you're here now, what can I do for you?"

The man in the bed rolled over and buried his head under a pillow saying, "Why don't you two shut up. I'm trying to sleep."

"That's tough," Carla retorted, "A friend came to visit me. If you don't like it you can leave!"

"Maybe I'll do that," he grumbled and then was quiet.

"I've come to get some stuff," Erin volunteered reluctantly, not sure whether or not Carla's friend knew anything about it.

"I told you last night that you need the price. Did you bring any money?"

Erin told her that she didn't have much, but that she was sure she could get more by the afternoon if she would just advance her enough for the day.

"Lars'll kill me if he finds out I supply you, you know," she said, "You've got to promise not to tell him."

"I won't tell him... honest," she answered, "In fact, don't you tell him that I came to you for it."

"I can only get the stuff in $100-lots... okay?"

"Yes... anything, just give me enough for today and I'll have the money this afternoon."

"How're you going to manage that?" she asked laughingly knowing that Lars wouldn't give her the money and that she would have to get it somewhere else.

"That's none of your business, and what do you care anyway?" she replied.

"I don't, really... besides, I don't have to ask, I already have a pretty good idea," she said, laughing knowingly.

"You know what?" Erin asked.

Carla didn't answer right away, but poked the man in the bed and said, "Honey, your newest acquisition is here, wake up and say good morning!"

The man turned over, opened his eyes and blinked, trying to adjust them to the sunlight that was shining through the window.

Erin gasped, not believing what she saw. It was Johnson!

"Well, well," he said slowly, "Look what the wind brought in. You getting on the gravy train, too?"

She didn't know whether to tell Carla to forget the whole thing and run out, but she just stood there frozen to the spot.

Carla grinned at Erin, "You see, little ole' Carla does get around some."

"Quite right, dear," Johnson said, running his hands over Carla's full, but slightly sagging breasts.

"You see," he continued, "I keep all my girls in line this way. I give them the dope and they give me their money. It's a convenient set up that way, and really not so nasty."

She wanted to be sick, but instead just collapsed on the edge of the bed, shaking.

"Carla here has been with me for some time, haven't you, and you just love me, don't you?" he said, leering at her.

"Oh sure, baby," she answered sarcastically, "But then I really don't have a choice."

She turned to Erin and said, "He has some rather strange requests from customers from time to time, but that's all part of the game. You'll get used to it after a while; besides, the horse will keep you from minding too much. You really won't mind fucking a bunch of jerks, weirdos and then some when you're flying, believe me."

Erin couldn't believe her ears. She didn't know that Johnson was running a stable of girls, she thought that she was to be his private property!

"There are a lot of tricks to this trade," Carla said, "but I'm sure that Freddie boy will see that you're broken in properly." She laughed maliciously, her eyes narrowing with a hatred as she spoke and glanced down at Johnson.

Johnson didn't answer her sarcasm, but threw back the covers and started to get out of bed, then changed his mind. He was completely nude and Erin could not help but stare at the skinny, hairiness of his body, his scrawny legs and sunken chest. Her eyes fell on his loosely hanging genitals as he started to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Even though his penis was soft and flaccid at the moment, it seemed to have enormous length and looked out of proportion for the rest of his body.

Carla caught her looking at Johnson and commented, "Oh yes, he's quite a stud himself!" Then turning to him, "Aren't you, darling?"

He lay back again on the bed, not bothering to pull the covers up over him and Erin could see a restless stirring beginning between his legs and his soft manhood began to jerk upward, growing thicker and larger every second.

"That's quite a build-up, Carla," he said, "Maybe I should show my new friend here just what it's like to have a real man!"

The way he said it, she knew that he was insinuating that Lars was less than a competent lover and the resentment must have shown in her face.

"Don't be so sensitive, dear," he continued, "I wouldn't want to make you angry, especially when you're going to make me so happy!"

Erin turned away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her body around so that she was facing him again.

"Watch!" he commanded.

He forced her to look at him while his pulsing penis grew larger and larger, jutting up from between his legs like a cannon. She couldn't believe the size of it, she had never seen anything quite so large in her whole life. Lars was amply built, but he was dwarfed by this man!

"Quite a specimen, isn't it? Thirteen inches long and over eight inches in girth, and that's no exaggeration: I measured it!" Carla interjected. "He's a stud, but in a different league altogether than they one you're accustomed to playing in, I will say that for him."

She ran her hand over his emaciated, hairy chest and down to the juncture between his legs, stroking the immense, thick prick gingerly.

"My god... it's HUGE! Are you for real? Jesushfuckingchrist..." Erin muttered.

"Don't be so selfish, dearie," he chided, "Let Erin join in on the fun."

Carla squeezed his massive penis possessively and rolled over and pressed her flabby, aging body next to him.

"Cut it out, I told you," he said, annoyed. "Why I should let you have all the fun when I have this beautiful young thing here just waiting and dying to touch me, right?" he said.

Erin tried to get up from the bed, but his grip on her arm was too tight and she couldn't move.

"Touch me," he commanded, pushing her hand, down on his loose hanging testicles and over his mammoth rock hard penis. It was so thick that she could not even begin to close her hand around it and she stared down at its incredible, unbelievable size completely in awe.

"Kiss it," he ordered, and Carla moved down on the bed to take the huge tool in her mouth, but he stopped her.

"Not you... Erin!"

He put his hand in back of Erin's neck and pulled her head down toward his body. She didn't want to make love to this man, but he did hold a strange fascination for her, so she slid off the bed and closed her mouth over his gigantic prick. It jerked in her mouth and she found it difficult to keep it still with her tongue as she licked.

"Aaahhhhhhhhh," he murmured. "You have a gentle, knowing touch, my dear."

It was almost as though he were testing her and not at all excited about her mouthing.

She seemed to keep him in her mouth for hours, sucking harder and harder on the erect, throbbing staff, but he still remained hard.

God, he must have the stamina of a horse, she thought to herself, Lars would have cum by this time, but he remained completely aloof.

She glanced up and his face was expressionless, and Carla was just staring at her while she moved up and down on his prick, and licked her lips in anticipation.

Finally Johnson spoke in a voice that was perfectly calm. "Take off your clothes, I want to see your beautiful body again!" She was completely flabbergasted, she couldn't understand what he was trying to do, but moved her mouth away from him and began to disrobe.

Carla didn't move over to take her place, but merely looked at Johnson questioningly.

"No," she said, "You aren't going to make her do that... or make me do that? You wouldn't... not again?"

Erin looked up at her trying to determine just what "that" was, but she didn't say anything, or give her any sign.

"That's right, Carla love," he said finally, "You two are going to entertain me with your sexual prowess!"

Erin wasn't sure what he meant but she didn't like the sound of his voice.

When she was completely nude, he reached out and grabbed one of her breasts roughly, twisting it and pinching the nipple until she cried out in pain.

"Stop it," she groaned, "you're hurting me!"

"Perhaps you'd like a more gentle lover," he said wickedly. "Well, I've arranged exactly that for you!"

She looked at him questioningly, hoping that what she was thinking was wrong, but she could see that she was wrong!

"Lie down here next to Carla," he ordered her, pulling her roughly onto the bed.

"Carla, show her what a gentle lover you can be!"

She cringed back against his body when Carla began to reach to touch her breasts.

"No... oh God no... I can't," she stammered, pulling away.

"You may as well get used to it, dearie," Carla said without emotion, "He gets his own little kicks this way!"

"No... no... please, anything else... but I can't do it with another woman!" she pleaded.

He reached out and smacked her soundly on the stomach and said, "You'll do it if you don't want to suffer the consequences, so just shut up. You'll find out that Carla is actually a very proficient lover."

She shut her eyes tightly and her whole body stiffened as she could feel Carla dutifully switch her position on the bed and reach out and fondle her ripe, full breasts. Her touch was soft, and even though her hands were quite thin and bony, her caress was light. She began to knead the firm, supple flesh of her breasts, tweaking gently at the nipples until they stood out proudly. Erin tried to pretend that it was Lars who was touching her, but she couldn't block the image of Carla's face from her mind. Carla's hands then roamed down over her belly, massaging the flesh with expertise, stimulating every nerve end in her body.

"You see," Johnson added, "Women know so much more about their bodies than men do. I just love to watch it!"

Carla was running her hands down the fleshy bulge of her thigh, her fingers digging into the soft, pliant skin and gradually working their way up to the vee between her legs.

"Ooohhhhhhhhh," she moaned as her fingers expertly found the bud of her clit.

She manipulated the petite projection until it was hard and throbbing and she was moaning softly. She couldn't believe that a woman could cause her to react like this, it just wasn't natural!

"Play with her tits," Johnson ordered Erin. "I want to see you play with her, too!"

Reluctantly Erin reached up and took the sagging, but full breasts in her hands and began to massage the soft, spongy flesh. Carla rubbed her body back and forth, trying to encourage more active play, and her fingers searched for the tiny slit between Erin's legs. Erin twisted her body slightly in an effort to avert this further exploration of her body, but Carla said, "Relax, baby, it won't be so bad!" Carla's breath was beginning to get rapid and Erin knew that she was getting a real thrill out of seducing another woman. Her fingers prodded and probed her pubis until she let one finger slide gently into the warm passage of her pussy.

"Oooooooooh" she moaned, feeling the walls of her pussy close neatly around the other woman's thin finger. Carla began to work her finger back and forth inside her channel, scraping lightly with her fingernail until she was writhing beneath her touch. When she thought that she would not be able to take any more, Carla inserted two more fingers and moved then back and forth like a shuttle inside her.

"Oooooohhhhhh... ooooohhhhhh," she groaned, trying to forget that it was a woman who was making her feel like that.

She found her own hands closing more tightly around the fleshy orbs of Carla's breasts and running down her body, over the thickness of her once thin dancer's waist and the plumpness of her hips.

Carla twisted beneath her caress and moved down further on the bed so that she would have better leverage. She continued her fingering of Erin's damp, clinging pussy for several more minutes before sliding her fingers wetly out of the now hungry channel.

"Noooooo... ooohhh... nooooo," Erin moaned, bucking her hips up off the bed as if she couldn't stand the torture.

"You've really got her going," Johnson said thickly, and she turned her head to see him. He was lying on his side watching the spectacle, his hands working up and down on his penis vigorously. It seemed even larger now than before and she wondered whether or not he had some kind of disease that would make him so swollen and large. The head of his jerking prick was bright purple and was the size of a man's fist! She had never seen anything so huge in her life... not even in her imagination! The weird freak, she thought in her aroused passion. I'd love to have that inside me right now, but he gets his kicks from watching unnatural lovemaking. She turned away from his gaze, disgusted and frustrated, wishing that Carla would finger her again so that she could cum, but Carla had another idea. She began running her tongue up and down on her body, nibbling provocatively at every inch her mouth could cover at on time, sending chills of anticipation through her body.

"Your skin is so soft," she murmured, "Sooooo... soft."

Her breath tickled her as she spoke and she shuddered under this new caress.

As her mouth moved down further on her body she thought that she would explode from the aching, gnawing desire building out of control in her loins.

"Yes... yes." she groaned as she felt Carla's tongue part the softness of her pubic hair and flick teasingly over her hard, erect clit. Her teeth nipped gently at the sensitive, tender pussylips and she pulled her knees back and further apart so that she would have total, uninhibited access to her orifice. Her tongue licked the tiny wound softly at first, then harder, probing into the tight aperture until she thought she would scream.

"Lars." she whispered, forgetting for a moment that it was a member of her own sex that was sending this wave of wanton lust through her body.

"No, darling, it's not Lars," Carla moaned against the vee of her thighs, "It's me... Carla."

Erin was not listening to Carla's groans and pleadings for her to touch her, she was too caught up in her own desperate need.

She felt a stirring next to her on the bed and she realized that Johnson had moved up in back of Carla and was fondling her asscheeks, running his fingers deep into the crease of her ass. Carla increased her mouthing when he began his fingering.

"Yes... yes... do it, Give it to me in the rear!" she begged him. "Fuck my ass while I'm licking Erin." Erin had been involved in triangular love before, but it had always been when she was high and with two male partners. This was a completely new sensation and she was completely sober but her nerves were on fire and raged passionately through her whole being, to the very core of her soul. She knew that she should be fighting the perverse impulses coursing through her unconsciously writhing body, but her need was so great that everything else was blocked from her mind.

Johnson pulled up on Carla's hips so that her face was completely buried down in Erin's loins, her whole being tingling from the touch of her open month between her widespread legs. God, it was wonderful. Her cunt tingled and throbbed, aching to be satisfied. She could feel the tenseness increase with each lustful mouthing, but she wasn't ready yet. She opened her eyes and watched Johnson press his giant prick against the tiny opening of Carla's small, puckered ass. She felt a pang of jealousy because she wanted his monstrous tool buried in her and not in someone else!

Carla's cheeks held him nicely and contracted with a gentle squeeze around his pulsing prick as he shoved roughly into her.

"Aaaggghhhhhhhh... oooohhhh God," she moaned and fell forward from the strength of his invasion into her. For just a moment her mouth left Erin while she tried to catch her balance and then struggled back again to take her place between her open thighs. Johnson's hands reached down around Carla's bobbing head and pressed down on the slight, hard bulge of Erin's cunt and he began to finger her clit while Carla mouthed at her loins like a woman gone crazy.

"Do it... do it." she gasped, "Oh yes... do it, I'm getting closer."

Johnson rocked into Carla with steady and regular strokes, driving his heavy piston deep into the well of her ass. She watched his prick disappear in strong jerks into the dim cleavage between Carla's cheeks inciting her passion to greater and greater heights. He gritted his teeth and tightened his hands on her hips, driving his fingers in between Carla's mouth and her cunt. She was writhing and twisting in sweet, delicious agony until she was on the brink of her climax!

"I'm going to cum." she gasped, trying to brace herself on the bed for her final spasms! "Cum on, baby," he said, "Cum for daddy!"

It was like an explosion of fireworks as the contractions began in her womb, shattering her whole pussy, her belly, her body.

She pushed her hips up against the maddening tongue and finger tearing at her screaming pussy until her back ached from the strain while she jerked out her last throes of her climax, then collapsed totally exhausted back into the mattress.

Carla then braced her hands on the mattress on either side of her knees and pushed back against the cruel impalement of her asscheeks.

"Your ass is so tight... so warm," the wildly humping Johnson choked out, shoving into her with merciless velocity.

"Fuck me... fuck me," Carla groaned, her face contorted with pain and desperate lust. "Fuck my ass!"

"I'm going to flood you any minute," he groaned out from between his tightly clenched teeth. "Here it is!"

Erin watched, completely enthralled at the spectacle in front of her. Carla looked as if she were about to die any minute, her face flushed and perspiring, her full, white breasts dancing down loosely from her body as though they were about to fall off from the weight. She reached out and touched the loose globes of bobbing flesh, pinching them gently, curiously, as if she couldn't believe they actually belonged to this sensually tortured body.

Johnson began to jerk wildly, yelling obscenities, begging someone to pinch him, hit him, totally oblivious to everything around him, but the storm bursting inside his throbbing organ. His eyes rolled around in his head for a moment as his lewd, hot semen ricocheted wildly into Carla's sucking ass. Then he was still. When he was spent, the last drop of hot, liquid sperm emptied into her ass, he moved back on his heels watching his thick, but deflated prick slide reluctantly, with a slight hissing sound, out of her sperm-filled ass.

All three of them collapsed side by side on the bed, looking at each other knowingly! It was as if they were all saying to each other, God, but we're a bunch of freaks, but it's our secret.

One by one they got up and dressed, lit up a joint and passed it around.

"You're going to be quite a little trick," Johnson said to her, grinning broadly. "Yes, indeed, you're going to make a lot of money with that body of yours!"

Several weeks had passed and so far she had been able to keep her secret involvement from Lars. He had asked a few questions, but she had always been able to have someone cover for her. She had been seeing quite a bit of Carla and had graduated to taking crank in the vein now. Her craving was increasing with each day and she was beginning to look a little drawn. So far, Lars had not noticed the needle marks on her body for she had been very careful not to "shoot" herself in the same place too many times. He had told her that he found out about Flanagan's plan to bust up the whole little group, with Harris as the king pin, but so far nothing had happened so she was beginning to relax somewhat. She had seen Harris several times since the night he made her give the little party for his friends, but he was still generous with her, so Lars didn't suspect anything.

Lacy had been around to the apartment several times since her last visit, but she was always so drunk that it didn't bother her anymore. Besides, she was usually so high on crank that nothing mattered to her anymore except her attachment for Lars. In her sober moments she swore that she was going to lay off the stuff and straighten up, because if she kept on this way she was going to lose him and then lose everything, but then she'd get another craving and go right back on the needle. She had created a vicious circle for herself and she knew that she had little chance for recovery from the depths of degradation to which she had slipped. She seemed determined to destroy herself and those around her, but it didn't matter anymore! She was actually enjoying her playing for pay and found that she could get her kicks in many ways, not caring whether her partner was male, female, a group, or a gang bang. A masochistic trend was developing that she never knew existed in her and she looked forward to the times when she had to take physical punishment. Her skin and hair was beginning to lose its luster and Lars had been hounding her about her appearance.

"Do you want to end up looking like Lacy," he told her, "Why don't you take better care of yourself. You're becoming a slob... a stinking slob!"

When he would lecture her like that she would burst into a torrent of tears and throw her arms around him and beg him to forgive her and promise that she would try harder.

"I just can't understand it," he'd say. "You used to be so careful about your appearance and now you don't seem to care about anything. Sometimes I wonder if you still care for me!"

"I do love you," she implored. "Please believe me... I do love you and only you!"

Time had no meaning for her anymore, the days were all alike, just one big high. A destructive high. She wandered around in a daze half the time, but Lars' business was hitting an all time high, so he wasn't around as much as he used to be, so getting out to turn her tricks to get the money for her habit was becoming easier and easier.

Carla had been generous in her supply of crank to her but as her cravings increased she had the feeling that Carla was cutting back on her portions of the dope. She couldn't believe that her body was demanding more and more of the destructive white powder.

Carla usually called each day to see if she needed another fix and check on how her supply was holding out, but she hadn't heard from her in a couple of days.

She opened her dresser and checked the plastic bag where she stashed her supply. There was barely enough to get her through the day and even that would be cutting it close. A panicky feeling shuddered her body and she quickly checked around the apartment for any crank Lars may have there for one of his contacts. She had never stolen any of Lars' supply because he would know right away and then she'd be trapped but she couldn't run out, she couldn't stand that! She began opening and closing drawers, boxes, closets at a frenzied pace, as though she wouldn't be able to survive another moment without more crank. Evidently Lars had just completed a transaction, because she couldn't find even a trace of dope anywhere.

Hurriedly she put on her coat and ran to the elevator, tapping impatiently on the button until the lift arrived. She ran through the lobby and hailed a cab in front of the building, and gave him the directions to Carla's hotel. She couldn't imagine what had happened that Carla hadn't called her for several days, and she shook with fear that something had happened to her and then her supply would be cut off. She tried to put the thought from her mind, but it kept coming back no matter how hard she tried.

The ride seemed to take forever and she wondered if there was always that much traffic at that time of the day. When the taxi pulled up in front of Carla's hotel she jumped out of the cab, paid him and ran up the stairs to her room and knocked on the door. She could hear her moving inside, but she wasn't answering the door.

"Carla," she yelled, "It's me... Erin!"

Finally she heard a scuffling of feet moving towards the door and she opened it, staring blankly at Erin.

"God, Carla," she gasped, "You look awful. What's the matter?"

"Got on a bum trip a few days ago. Thought Id' really done it this time, but I feel better now."

"I wondered why you hadn't called me. I'm running short of stuff and I need some more to get me through tomorrow," Erin pleaded.

"How much money you got?" Carla asked.

"Enough for one day's supply," she answered shakily, "But you know that I can probably get some from Johnson."

"I'm afraid that even that won't do much good this week, kid," she said half-sympathetically. "The market is tight and I could barely make a buy big enough for myself, much less for anyone else. That's why I didn't call, I didn't have any."

Erin looked at her with horror and disbelief. "But I've got to get some. I'll go out of my mind if I can't have a fix!" She was screaming and flailing her arms in the air like a maniac.

"I'm sorry... honest," Carla said, "but there ain't a damn thing I can do. I don't even know where my next fix is coming from if these prices continue to go up."

Erin's mind was racing, confused and tormented, trying to think of some way to get the money for the "H."

"Guess I'll have to go to Johnson to get it. If I get the money and come back with it, can you fix me up then?" she implored.

"Yeah, I guess so. These pushers are getting so damned independent that it's hard to guarantee anything when the market is like this. The heat has been on for about a week and a few of the sources got busted, which makes it bad all around."

Erin just stood there for a minute, then buttoned her coat and left the hotel in a panicked rush.

I can't go without a fix... I'll go out of my mind, she thought to herself, as she searched for another taxi to take her to Johnson's. It seemed to be ages before one stopped to pick her up and she tapped her hands nervously on the seat as he sped through the downtown traffic to Johnson's apartment.

The doorman recognized her when she got out of the cab and told her that he would have to call up to Mr. Johnson first before he could let her go up.

"Why?" she asked impatiently. "You've seen me here a hundred times before. He'll see me."

"I know I have, miss," he replied, "but Mr. Johnson has company up there and may not want to be disturbed. I've got to check."

She sat down on the chair in the lobby and waited while he rang Johnson's apartment.

He turned around and handed her the house phone saying, "he wants to talk to you... here."

"Hello," she said, her voice quivering. "I've got to see you... NOW!"

"Just take it easy, sweetheart," he said, his tone cool and aloof. "What's the big hurry?"

She knew that he probably realized that she needed money and he was just trying to upset her by taking his sweet time and making her wait.

"Please," she begged, "I've got to see you now, right away."

"Okay... okay," he finally relented, "but I've got someone else here right now, hope you don't mind. In fact, it could be very interesting. Let me talk to the doorman again." She handed the phone to the doorman and waited for him to get the okay for her to go up.

She could hear giggling and muffled conversation as she stood outside Johnson's door. Johnson was dressed only in a silk robe when he answered the door to let her in. A young woman was seated on the couch and was dressed only in her bra, stockings, and tiny bikini panties.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, "but I just had to see you. I need some money."

"Well, well," he said, "you need some money. Just what do you expect to do to earn this advance?" he chided.

"For Christ's sake," she stammered, "you know damn well what I need it for, so don't play games!"

"My, but you're nervous today," he continued, "it must be getting pretty bad. This could be interesting."

He walked back to the couch and sat down, just looking at her disinterestedly, playing with her mind.

"I'll do anything... anything you say," she begged, walking over to him and falling to her knees. "Just please give me some money!"

He patted the girl's knee that was sitting next to him and looked at her quizzically.

She seemed to sense what he had in mind and nodded affirmatively at him, grinning lasciviously.

Erin looked up at the both of them and sensed what it was that he had in mind, but was too desperate to argue or say anything.

"If you want the money so badly," he continued, "you and my other friend here are going to have to put on a little show for me. You don't mind, do you, dear?"

She looked at him blankly, saying nothing, knowing that it wouldn't do any good if she wanted the money.

The other girl just sat there, not seeming to care one way or the other, but finally said, "She's very young. How did you manage to find one like this? It will be a real pleasure!"

A pleasure, Erin thought, realizing that the other woman was a real dyke!

"This is going to be very interesting," Johnson laughed. "I've longed to see such a spectacle for a long time, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of this."

The other woman got up from the couch and joined Erin on the floor.

"You'd better take off your coat and the rest of your clothes if you want to earn your precious money," she said, pulling at the sleeves of her jacket.

Reluctantly, but hopelessly, Erin took off her coat and began to unbutton the hooks on her blouse and skirt. Johnson and the other woman watched, their eyes glued to the full, firm line of her breasts as they pushed against the lace of her bra. The whiteness of her soft, flaccid skin contrasted with the black lace and silk of her lingerie and made her skin glow like oiled marble, sleek and shiny. She stood up for a moment, letting her blouse and skirt fall carelessly on the floor as she bent to unfasten the constricting garters of her black silk stockings. The muscles in her legs were contracted and trembling slightly as she continued to undress. She kicked off her shoes and let her stockings fall around her ankles before stepping out of them. She stood there in front of them dressed only in her bra and thin panties. She could hear both of them breathing rapidly and watched Johnson while he slipped his hand inside the sash of his robe and pulled out his immense, erect, throbbing penis. The girl, however, had not taken her eyes off of her! She reached out and pulled Erin towards her, pushing her shoulders gently against the floor, her hands running over the fine, firm contours of her body.

Erin struggled briefly against her touch, but knowing that her money depended upon her performance, she relaxed.

"That's better," the girl murmured with a confident smile playing across her lips. "Relax and you'll enjoy it, baby. I really know how to turn a chick on."

The woman's hands ran skillfully over her breasts, pinching the sensitive nipples through the cloth and urging them into erectness. Erin quivered at her caress and could feel a shudder run through her body. The woman's hands traced a sensual line down to the narrowness of her waist, over the fullness of her hips to her firm, white thighs.

"Ooohhhh, you're so lovely," she murmured, kissing her ear and nibbling at the base of her throat. "God, what a beautiful creature!"

Erin had never really gotten used to another woman making love to her, but she knew that she didn't have any choice, still the thought repulsed her. The woman was now reaching inside the tight elastic of her panties, searching for the soft fur of her pubic mound and the tiny, tender clit. Her fingers worked expertly until they ran over the hardened bud of her sex and played gingerly with the pink, swollen lips of her pussy. She fingered her for just a moment before withdrawing her hands and concentrating her attention, once again, on her breasts. She unhooked Erin's bra and pulled it from her shoulders so that she could see the full, ripe, softness of her EE-cup breasts. She gasped almost inaudibly when her breasts fell into view, jiggling slightly like two huge, perfectly-shaped swaying melons. Immediately she closed her mouth around the white, soft flesh, sucking and licking every inch of her voluptuous curves as if she were about to devour them.

"Aaaggggghhhh," Erin moaned softly as she felt the woman gently nip at the erect nipple of her breasts, sending a chill through her body.

"Oh yes, my sweet," the other woman whispered, "let me make love to you like no man ever could."

Erin had had her eyes tightly closed, but suddenly wondered what Johnson was doing. She glanced over to the couch where he had stretched himself out and was busy playing with his erect, thick tool as he watched the girls.

He was taking turns watching them making love on the floor and then concentrating on his jerking, pulsing penis. She wondered how someone could get such excitement out of watching others make love. It had stimulated her sometimes when she had seen others make love at Shoo-Fly's parties, but only to the point where she had to join in and find a partner for herself. She could have never reached full satisfaction from just being an observer!

The woman's hands massaged and caressed her breasts until small red welts appeared on her flesh where fingers had dug into the full, flaccid mounds. She was beginning to feel a strange tingling sensation travel through her body as the woman reached down between her legs and gently pulled her tiny, black panties from her asscheeks.

The woman leaned back and watched Erin's body react as she pulled the thin, resilient material from over the round curve of her asscheeks, the firmness of her thighs and finally over her slight ankles. She let them lie on the floor next to her feet, while she ran her hands up over the calves of her legs, and slowly, tenderly up the inside of her thighs.

She began to wiggle nervously as she felt a sensual tremor shake her body as she reacted involuntarily to this woman's touch. The woman moved up on her body and kissed her softly at first on the neck, the throat, the ears and finally fully on the mouth. Her lips were soft and full as they covered Erin's smaller and resisting mouth, but she forced her mouth open and thrust her tongue inside, flicking in and out like a snake. Her kiss was insistent as she nibbled gently on her lips and ran her tongue over Erin's gums and teeth, forcing her own tongue deep into her throat.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," the woman groaned, as she sucked noisily on Erin's tongue.

Erin stirred under her caress and in a few minutes she found that she was returning this woman's kiss with the same passionate ardor she would have kissed Lars.

The woman pulled her mouth away for just a second and whispered intimately, "That's it, dear, that's it, love me too!"

Erin reached up and pulled the woman back close to her, biting teasingly on her neck and ears until they both rolled over on their sides so that they could have freer access to each other's bodies.

The woman reached down between her legs and began to manipulate the tender, swollen lips of her pussy, twisting them nimbly and scraping her fingernail over the tiny, moist slit of her now throbbing passage.

"Ooohhhhhh," Erin moaned, raising her hips off the floor slightly in an effort to force the woman's fingers inside her suddenly erotically aching channel. Erin reached down and grabbed the woman's breasts savagely, pulling and squeezing them like putty between her searching fingers. Her breasts were as full as her own although they lacked the resilience of youth, the smoothness of skin. She kneaded them like bread, pushing and poking them into different shapes and sizes.

"Oh yes... yes," the woman groaned, "play with me!"

Johnson heard the gasps and moans of the girls as they tossed and wriggled about on the floor and stopped his masturbation for just a second to watch. He was breathing heavily as he watched the older woman insert two fingers neatly into Erin's open passage and twist them about frantically until she was begging for fulfillment.

"My lovely creatures," he breathed heavily. "You are like two wild animals in a heated frenzy, clawing at each other for satisfaction. Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!"

Erin glanced over as he spoke and noticed that he had taken off his dressing gown and was sitting perched on the edge of the couch, his thin hairy legs spread apart so that his huge, thick, erect cock stood out grotesquely as though ready to attack.

Erin was moaning with desire now, her body tormented and longing to be filled, filled with a man's organ that could bring her satisfaction, but there was little hope for that.

The woman ran her thumb over her clit increasing the pressure with each lunge into her pussy with her other fingers until she thought she would go out of her mind.

"Yes... yes... make me cum." she begged, her body wracked with a building lust and desire.

"You want something bigger in you?" the other woman asked hotly as she thrust her fingers faster and deeper into her aching vaginal channel.

"Yes... yes I want to be fucked." Erin begged, helpless now to resist the obscene advances, her thighs quivering with anticipation and her stomach churning.

The woman looked back at Johnson and told him to get the "thing." Erin didn't know what she was talking about, but Johnson beamed and jumped up quickly and went into the other room.

When he returned he was carrying a huge, thick and long rubber instrument in the shape of a man's penis. There were straps tied to the sides of it and two loose rubber sacs hung down from the prick.

God, she thought, how could anyone possibly take all that inside them. She couldn't possibly expect me to accommodate something that huge and hard. The woman moved away from her for just a moment taking her fingers out of her denied pussy and started to fasten the fake penis around her hips, then stopped. "You forgot to fill it," she said to Johnson, and left Erin writhing on the floor while she walked to the bathroom. Erin could hear the water running, but couldn't imagine what she was doing. When she came back into the room, the two sacs that had just been hanging loosely before were now bloated to a monstrous size and it was strapped securely in place at the woman's loins.

The organ jutted out from her hips as though it belonged there and bobbed up and down slightly as she approached Erin once again. She knelt down beside her and ran her hands over her body, Erin could not take her eyes off the false, jerking prick as the woman caressed her.

"Do you like it," she asked, smiling down at her. "It's all for you!"

Erin didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and reached out to touch the monstrous 16-inch instrument, not believing what she was seeing.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"It's a dildo, my dear." Johnson interrupted. "Haven't you ever seen one before?"

She rolled her head back and forth on the carpet, signifying a negative answer, then closed her eyes. She could feel the woman gently pulling her legs apart, massaging and grasping the soft, warm flesh of her thighs until her legs were almost at a 45 degree angle. She began to manipulate the tender folds of skin around her pussy, running her finger teasingly over and around the thin slit of her passage.

"Oooooooohhhhhhh, Aaaaaahhhhhhhh," she groaned, as she felt the pressure in her belly begin to resurge. She could feel the woman's hands move further down her legs until they were planted firmly on her knees, holding them firmly apart.

She was wondering when the woman would let her feel that huge, monstrous prick inside her, but the waiting was so deliciously painful that she thought she would die. She could feel the woman's hot breath on her stomach as she lowered her face down on her body and began nibbling and licking the smooth, slight bulge of her abdomen and down to her pubis. She wriggled under the mouthing, and finally the woman's mouth closed over her clit, her tongue flicking it menacingly, persistently, and her teeth bit gently at the pink, sensitive lips of her pussy.

"Oh yes... yes... God, yesssss" she moaned, bucking her hips upwards so that her mouth would be able to take in all of her. "I'm so ready... soooooo ready," she barely whispered.

The woman seemed to enjoy taking her time, knowing that she was torturing her into a sensual frenzy. She could hear Johnson breathing heavily again and she looked over and saw him standing up, looking down at them, playing with his own, erect, pulsing prick like it were a toy. His eyes were half closed in ecstasy as he watched the two girls squirm about on the floor, knowing that Erin was dying for something to be inside her, but he wasn't going to give it to her. She would have to wait for the other woman and the dildo!

"Please... please." she gasped, reaching down and trying to pull the other woman up further onto her so that she could feel the hard coolness of the phony penis between her legs. She didn't know if she could wait any longer, but the woman still held her fast while she mouthed her erotically down between her open legs.

Finally when she thought she was about to cum, the woman moved away from her, sensing that she was close and not wanting her to climax just yet.

"No... don't... don't stop," she begged, pulling at the woman's hair and shoulders in an effort to bring her back to her body.

"You're so hot, baby," the woman moaned, her own passions becoming obvious. "I'm going to give it to you so that no man will ever be able to satisfy you again!"

For the moment, Erin had forgotten about the extraordinary size of the dildo. The only thing that mattered was that the burning sensation in her loins be satisfied.

"Yes... yes... do it," she groaned, bringing her knees back slightly so that her pussy was open wide and the entry would be easier.

Slowly the woman moved up onto her knees and angled the dildo directly above Erin's aching, wet pussy. Gradually she lowered herself until Erin could feel the hard rubber prick push relentlessly against the lips of her channel and attempt entry. The head of the penis was so huge that it stretched her passage as though she were a virgin.

"Aaaaaggggggghhhhh," she gasped. "I can't take it!"

"Just relax... just relax," the woman encouraged her. "It will feel soooo good."

Erin moaned out her surrender and brought her knees up to her chest so that the head of the penis could split her pussylips easier and move slowly inside her. She had never felt anything so thick and hard in her life, but at least it would fill her better than the woman's fingers!

With a forceful thrust, the woman pushed the hard, mammoth staff deep into Erin's belly.

"Uuuuuuggggggghhhhhhh... nnooooooooo," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Stop... stop." But the woman continued to push further and further into her aching passage.

The woman rocked into her, back and forth, in and out, for several minutes, but once the whole length and width had been taken inside her, she stopped for just a moment to let Erin get adjusted to this monstrous, new intrusion. Erin was breathing deep breaths, hoping that the piercing, tearing pain that was shooting through her belly and womb would subside. She could feel the walls of her pussy close tightly around this rubber penis, welcoming it. It hurt her, and her back and whole insides were on fire from the feeling that she was being torn in half, but in a few minutes the initial pain began to subside.

When the woman thought that she had regained enough composure, she began to thrust into her again, each time increasing the momentum of her push, until Erin was churning and wriggling uncontrollably beneath her impalement. Her vaginal walls were stretching slightly in order to take the whole instrument, and she could feel the loose rubber sacs banging against her upturned asscheeks. They felt warm and moist, then she realized that she must have filled them with hot water when she went into the bathroom.

"Ooohhhhh God," she groaned as she took every hard, thick inch of the dildo into her. "I'm so close... so close... fuck me harder with it... fuck me harder!"

The woman rearranged herself on her knees and planted her hands firmly on the floor so that she could thrust faster and faster into the squirming girl.

"That's it... come on... come on," she encouraged her, her own breath hot and heavy.

"Yes... yes. I'm going to cum now," she groaned.

As she could feel her vaginal muscles begin to contract around the giant, hard-rubber prick, the woman reached in back of her and Erin could feel a hot stream of warm water being emptied deep into her belly.

"Aaaggghhh," she gasped, as the warm liquid filled her insides to overflowing.

"That's more than any man could ever give you," the woman choked, thickly above her.

The water seemed to be continuous as she ground out her orgasm, writhing in contorted positions that she never thought she could manage, until her pussy quieted. The woman pulled the hard, thick tool from her channel and rolled over next to her on the floor.

"You see," she finally said, "this penis doesn't get soft. It can keep going as long as you want it and it can fill you with more warmth than any man is possible of doing!" She stroked the fake penis affectionately and stared glassy-eyed up at the ceiling.

Erin brought her legs tightly together, trying to ease the after pain that was throbbing inside her. She had been stretched to painful proportions and she was sure that she would not be able to walk for weeks. She bent her knees and curled in a fetal position trying to alleviate the dull pressure in her loins and belly.

"Quite a performance my dears," Johnson said finally, leering down at them, his eyes bulging with undisguised lust from the erotic exhibition he had just witnessed.

"You may go now," he continued, talking to the woman who had been her lover.

"I always let you watch me," she pouted. "Why can't I stay and watch?"

"Because I said for you to beat it," he ordered, pulling her up off the floor.

"And put that thing back in the drawer so I'll know where to find it again!"

Reluctantly, the woman got up and walked out of the room. She was still curled up in a little ball when she felt Johnson ease himself down beside her on the rug. She didn't want to make love again, her insides hurt too much to even think of it, besides she had been completely satisfied.

He reached out and touched her lightly, running his fingers up and down her spine.

"No more," she begged. "I'm too sore."

"Not where I'm going to take you," he murmured, moving closer to her and kissing the nape of her neck.

She could feel his penis hot and heavy against her hips, jerking into the back of her thighs demandingly. She went rigid, hoping that he would cum before he could take her, but when his arms reached around her and grabbed her roughly by her full, rounded breasts and pulled her backwards toward him, she knew that this wasn't likely. She was going to earn her "fix" today and she knew it. There was no other way out.

He could feel her stiffen under his touch and whispered coarsely into her ear, "If you want that money for your dirty habit, you'll do as I say!" His voice was harsh and demanding, full of lust and depravity.

He was grunting like a pig as he moved his hips up in back of her, letting his hard, swollen prick prod into the tops of her thighs and cheeks of her asscheeks. She resisted automatically, trembling at the thought of his intention, but knowing that if he was going to take her in that abnormal way, she would just have to submit, otherwise she wouldn't get the money.

She felt his hips thrust at her backside and his long spear slid forcefully between the cheeks of her asscheeks. It won't fit! she groaned piteously to herself, it's impossible, but the muscles of her asscheeks contracted against him automatically.

She felt disgusted and degraded. She had let a woman make love to her with a horrible, obscene instrument and now this man wanted to ravage her almost-virginal ass. She had heard stories about people making love that way, but she never thought that she would be faced with the problem again after that first time Conrad had done it to her.

"Please don't," she said weakly, knowing that he wouldn't answer.

He pulled and pushed her like putty, trying to find the tiny, tight elastic bole of her ass so that he could satisfy his own sadistic whims.

"Relax," he commanded her, "and it won't hurt so much!"

She didn't answer him, but no matter how hard she tried, the muscles of her asscheeks would not relax against this unnatural intrusion.

He was pressing down hotly, insistently against her and she wanted to beg him to stop, but she couldn't. She tried to wriggle her hips away from his pulsing organ, but each time he would pinch the nipples of her breasts so hard that she would jerk backwards toward his thick, pulsating cock automatically to avoid his painful touch. His hands moved from her breasts for just a moment and slid down between her legs, his fingers prodding at the open, aching channel of her pussy and fingering the hard bud of her clit. She was still damp with her own juices as well as from the warm water which had soaked her, and she could feel him guide his penis forward through the backs of her legs until his huge prick was rubbing against her vaginal slit, oiling himself for his other entry.

She groaned in anticipation of what was about to happen and she felt his fleshy staff move back and forth and then prod once again at her smooth, hairless back passage. His fingers were still manipulating her clit until it ached and she could feel the stab of his mammoth prick as he thrust into the cleavage between her cheeks. She could feel the head of his penis searching for the tiny aperture so that he might take her there and she tried to clench her asscheeks firmly together so that his entry would be impossible. He felt her resisting him and thrust two stubby fingers deep into the well of her sore and aching pussy, his nails scraping the sensitive walls of her channel.

"Ooooohhhhh," she gasped and her asscheeks fell soft and flaccid.

She could feel the hot, pulsing head of his shaft move up her crease until it was pointed directly at her tiny, virginal ass.

He can't... he just can't... she prayed as she felt him push roughly against the tight opening.

She could feel him slipping in and out between her cheeks, brushing over the tiny, minute hole and she gasped in pain as he forced the head of his great prick inside her ass for just a moment. She straightened her legs and stiffened her body against the pain as she felt him trying to enter her.

Tears of degradation and humiliation built up in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks. She wished that it wouldn't hurt so much, because she needed the money and unless she cooperated, she wouldn't get it.

She wiggled alongside him, hoping that he would think she was trying, but actually she was trying to dislodge his first attempt at an entry.

"Don't fight me," he warned, "or it will be harder for you!"

She could feel his erection, thick and throbbing, work its way between her asscheeks again, this time shoving fiercely at her tiny, unyielding bole.

"Aaaggggghhh," she gasped as she felt the first inch of thick, hard flesh force its way into her ass. She bit her lip and tried to arch her back away from him, but he held her fast.

He's too big, she whimpered, he'll never get it all inside.

The pain was a constant thing as he lay still for a moment, the head of his prick buried inside her. He felt even larger than the dildo had felt in her pussy and she couldn't move without the agony of a stabbing pain. He pressed his hips deeper into her, rubbing and undulating his hairy belly back and forth on her body. His hands reached down further on her legs and forced her thighs wide apart so that he could shove his manhood deeper and deeper into her tight, resisting ass. She felt as though she were being skewered like a pig on a barbeque, sacrificed for pleasure, but somehow deriving a raw, sensual kind of excitement from it even though she ached. His hands began to toy with her pussy again, urging her to react to match his own lust and desire. He pushed into her a little further, feeling the resistance of her tight channel with each thrust. He threw one leg over her asscheeks and hips and wrapped it around her thighs so that she was pinioned against his every whim.

His painful penetration of her ass humiliated her, but excited her at the same time. She was completely helpless against his massive, cruel invasion, totally subservient to his physical demands. Her loins were shaking with each thrust he made, pain wracking her body, but in a masochistically pleasant way. She tried to wriggle away, but his legs held her firmly as he inched deeper and deeper into her tight, resisting passage with each prodding motion.

He grunted with passion as he thrust the last inch of his erect, pulsing penis deep into her and she screamed in delicious agony.

He was thrusting in and out of her more easily now, and she could feel the tight skin around her ass stretch forward and then outward with each push of his hips. She could feel herself adjusting to this new penetration and finally began to relax and push her hips back against his in order to meet him. His fingers worked busily at her pussy, tickling, tingling, teasing until she was beginning to feel a new flood of desire build in her loins.

She squirmed against him with renewed interest, savoring this new experience with sensual gusto. His penis was so rigid and thick inside her that it was not easy for him to thrust into her with any speed, and this only seemed to prolong the agony of desire. He was moaning and muttering obscene oaths at her while he raped her asscheeks, knowing that he was one of the first ones to ever be inside this tight, little passage.

"Oh baby," he groaned, "oh baby... baby... fuck back at me!"

Her body was shaking from the pressure of his legs, and his weight on her, but the new, delicious wonderment had taken complete control of her body and nothing mattered except that there was a prick inside her!

"Oh... oh... oh." she gasped as he ravaged her tight orifice, trying to catch her breath. His penis seemed to grow even larger with each harsh impalement, yet she didn't want him to stop.

He was so solidly crushed into her ass that she couldn't escape even if she had wanted to! Her desire was overcoming her pain and she didn't want him to stop this new, prodding, hot injection. She could feel his prick begin to jerk inside her as he thrust forward and then pulled back and she knew that he was not far from his climax, but she wasn't quite ready.

"Wait... wait." she groaned and tried to lay still for a second so that she would not bring him to his climax so quickly.

He slid his hands over her belly and pulled her roughly to her hips so that he was in a kneeling position, his fingers spreading the cheeks of her asscheeks even further apart. He looked down at her as he thrust in and out of her vulnerable opening, watching his prick disappear into the warm tunnel of her ass. His fingers reached underneath her and continued their fingering of her pussy until she began to rotate her hips back against his loins with a new fury. She gasped in pain and pleasure each time he thrust deep into her, not leaving one centimeter of his long, thick 13-incher showing between her cheeks. He gripped her tightly, reaching again around under her belly, shoving two fingers deep into her cunt, holding her impaled in both openings.

"I'm going to die," she groaned, wantonly out of control. "Fuck me... because I'm going to die if you don't fuck me right now!"

His penis felt as though it were swollen to ten times its size and his hips were thrusting like a jackhammer, deep into her ass. He rammed into her, pressing his thighs into the sides of her hips and holding her stationary. He knew that he was about to explode in her and that he couldn't wait much longer, so he rocked into her with all his strength grunting and groaning for that beautiful, satisfying release.

His penis was heavy as he pounded into her for the last few times and she moaned passionately beneath him.

"Yes... yes... now... do it now," she urged him. "I'm going to cum, too."

He pulled her back onto him, plunging his prick as deep as it would go and holding it there for just a moment before releasing her and doing it again. He could feel the walls of her pussy begin to contract against his fingers and he knew that she was cumming. Suddenly he felt his loins begin to quiver and his testicles begin to boil and he began to jerk out his orgasm, shooting the hot liquid deep into her ass. He rocked and writhed back and forth on her hips like a maniac, uttering obscenities, feeling the exquisite pull on his prick as he lunged into her with each spasm.

She was about to collapse under his weight, but he held her tightly and on her knees until he had jerked out his last bit of sperm deep up into her ass and then released her. She fell, stretching out on the floor, his body crushing down on top of her, his penis still inside her. She rolled slightly and his once hard manhood slid easily out of her ass. They both lay there for a while, neither one saying anything. Finally, she managed to get to her feet and walk shakily to the bathroom. When she got back he was dressed in his robe once again and was sitting on the couch.

"May I have my money now?" she asked.

"Well, you needn't be so snippy about it, you know. I know you enjoyed it as much as I did," he reprimanded her.

"Never mind about that," she said, her insides still aching, "May I have my money. I need a fix."

"Sure, sure," he finally answered and handed her $400. "That should keep you for awhile, but remember, if there's ever anything else I can do for you, just call me." He was still laughing wickedly, ecstatic over his humiliation and degradation he had forced her into, as she left the apartment and walked to the elevator clinching her asscheeks tightly together to hold back the belated pain.

When she arrived back at her apartment she stopped for a moment outside the door. She heard two voices coming from inside and it took her a minute to decide that it was Lacy again, in one of her drunken moods, warning Lars and begging him to go away with her.

She put the key in the lock and tried to open the door noiselessly, but Lars heard her and came to the door.

"Hello darling," he said, kissing her warmly. "As you can see, we have company."

"Yes. Hello Lacy. Back to your old tricks again. Don't you ever give up!"

"You're just being stupid not listening to me. The agents are after Lars and I got another tip today that they are going to raid you. You'd better get out of here."

"Go to hell, will you," Lars chimed in. "I don't care to listen to any more of your wild stories. You're beginning to sound like a broken record. I think that I have your speech memorized by now."

"I don't want to hear it anymore either, Lacy, so why don't you just leave." Erin ordered.

"I'm not leaving until Lars hears me out. I just got here and I haven't finished."

"Well, I just got here and I am leaving until you decide to let us alone."

She turned to Lars and told him that she would take a walk to the store and get some things for supper and be back in a little bit. She didn't know where she got her courage to leave them alone, but he was finally going to settle this thing with Lacy once and for all, and she didn't want to be around. Just the very sight of Lacy made her sick. She buttoned up her coat and went down the hall to the self-service elevator and waited impatiently for it to appear. As the floors clicked away she had the strange feeling that maybe she had done the wrong thing, that maybe she should be back there with Lars, but it was too late now. The elevator stopped and she walked into the empty foyer, pausing again, debating whether or not to go back, but pushed the heavy door open and braced herself against the chill, strong wind. The streets were deserted, everyone was probably in their apartments eating dinner or in the restaurants. Not a soul was in sight.

The streetlights shed a dim, blurred light on the street as she walked trying to keep her mind off Lars and what might be happening back in their apartment. She began to count the streetlights, saying the numbers out loud to herself, and when she reached fifty she started back again, hoping by this time Lacy would be gone. Her feet were cold and numb from walking so she decided to take a shortcut back to their apartment, praying that that would be the end of Lacy and her alcoholic rages. It didn't take her very long and within fifteen minutes she found herself standing outside their apartment building. She went back up in the elevator, feeling relieved and happy that it would all be over with Lacy and walked eagerly down the hall, thinking only of Lars' warm arms and passionate lips. Outside the door, she stopped and put her ear to the panel. There was no sound from within. Lacy must really have left. She turned the key, opened the door and closed it behind her, calling out, "Lars, I'm back!"

But instead of his cheerful voice, only an eerie silence greeted her. She paused, a cold, sickening stone of alarm and fear in her stomach and then ran toward the living room. As she entered, the acid scent of gunpowder stung her nostrils. Looking about the room, her eyes riveted with horror and unbelief; her legs became weak, she felt as though she were going to faint and she leaned feebly against the door-jam, clutching it for support.

With open eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling, Lars was crumpled on the floor. From a dark bole in his chest blood had seeped over his bathrobe, staining it a dark red, and spread out around him on the rug. She choked out his name in a strangled voice, tottered over and knelt beside him. But he was already dead. Too numb with shock to cry or to realize that he was really dead, she looked beyond him to where Lacy was lying on the floor, her chest slowly rising and falling in shallow breaths, the gun a foot away from her hand. She was either in a dead faint or in some kind of a coma.

Trembling, tense, her mind a blank, Erin started to get up, reeled dizzily and fainted. When she came to a few minutes later, she was panic-stricken, not knowing whether to call a doctor, to go for help or to call the police. The police! Vividly she remembered Lacy's swearing the apartment would be raided that night. Perhaps Lacy had been telling the truth. She had an overwhelming impulse to flee, blinded by the fear that she would be arrested, for she had met no one on her solitary walk, no one to prove she hadn't been here all the time and partaken in Lars' murder. As she remembered the glare of hatred in Lacy's eyes, she was suddenly sure that Lacy would try to implicate her.

Stumbling as she ran, she made for the front door. Narcotic agents! A picture of the stock of drugs Lars had hidden in the closet flashed across her mind. Knowing that it was a crazy idea, for what good would it do Lars now not to have the crank found in his possession, she nevertheless turned and ran into the bedroom. She quickly dumped the capsules in her purse and started back. A snapshot of Lars propped up on the dresser arrested her flight. She paused before it, a cry of bitter despair and agony on her lips, swept it off the dresser into her purse and ran headlong out of the apartment as though she were being chased by demons.

Still struck with a nameless terror, instead of stepping into the elevator, she clattered down the six flights of stairs and rushed out into the cold night. She ran blindly down the street, not thinking where she was going. In front of her the glare of headlights swept around the corner and raked the opposite buildings. Instinctively she dodged into a doorway and pressed herself against the wall in the dark shadows as the car passed. It was a police car! Her heart thumping wildly, she peered out and saw it stop in front of their apartment building. Three men got out. When they had disappeared into the entrance she stepped out from the doorway. Hugging the shadows next to the building, she sidled cautiously to the corner and around it. She was reluctant to hail one of the few taxis which passed her for fear the driver would remember her and connect her with the murder, so she kept on walking, her heart a black, bottomless pit of sorrow.

She had already decided to go to Paul's. When she came to a street which was still brightly lit by bars and nightclubs and where enough people were on the street for her to be thought of as just another all-night reveler, she got into a cab and gave the driver the address of a building a block down the street from Paul's.

By the time she finally stood before his door she barely had enough energy left to ring the buzzer. After awhile she heard his step and then his sleepy voice calling through the door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Erin" she answered weakly.

He quickly threw the door open. She had time only to see the look of surprise on his face before she fainted into his arms.

When she woke up she was lying on the couch. Paul was anxiously hovering over her.

"My God, Erin, what's happened?" he said.

She tried to speak, but her tongue couldn't seem to move in her dry mouth.

"Here, have some brandy." Cradling her head, he raised her up so she could take a sip. She coughed and sank back on the cushions.

"How do you feel? Better?"

She nodded.

"Tell me what's happened, darling!"

She looked up at him. As the memory of Lars lying crumpled on the floor came back to her, her eyes filled with tears, she blurted out "Lars' dead" and then broke into a wild sobbing, crying for the first time since she had walked into their apartment a lifetime ago.

Paul pressed her head against his shoulder and waited patiently until she had quieted down, then carried her into the bedroom, undressed her and put her to bed.

"If you don't feel like it, don't try to tell me about it tonight," he said. He made her take some sleeping pills and she fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

When she woke up it was early the next afternoon. At first she didn't know where she was, but then she remembered the horrible events of the night before and she called out weakly for Paul.

He hurried into the bedroom, telling her not to stir, that he would bring her breakfast, but she was too upset to eat. As he sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand, she told him what had happened and they discussed what to do next.

He scratched his head, sighed and said, "I think it might have been better, Erin, if you'd called the police right away. After all, you had been out while it happened and it was obvious that it was Lacy who killed him. Running away like that might make you seem more suspicious to the police, that is, not to me, darling."

"I suppose so, Paul, but it's too late now. Really, I was too panic-stricken to know what I was doing. My only thought was to get out of there. I was so sure that Lacy would try to drag me into it."

"Yeah. Perhaps she would have, if she's as nuts as she sounds. But I don't quite see how she could implicate you. After all."

They sat in silence, looking worriedly at each other.

"Anything in the papers about it?" she asked.

"Not in the morning editions. Probably discovered it too late for that. Maybe in the afternoon ones."

"So now what'll we do?"

"Well, for the time being, you stay right here and don't show your nose out of doors. I'll go out and buy some papers."

He got up and started to leave. She called after him.

"Paul! I've got an ideal"

He stuck his head in the door. "What?"

"Hand me my purse a second."

She rummaged around in its depths, noted that the capsules had disappeared and found her address book. She thumbed through it. "Here, call this guy and ask him to come over."

"Who is it?" he said, as he took the book.

"Friend named Al. He used to be a newspaper reporter and still has lots of friends there. Maybe he could inquire around and find out what's going on - I mean stuff the police haven't officially let out yet."

"Good idea," Paul said. "I'll call him up right away."

He left the apartment on the run. Erin burrowed down under the blankets and began quietly weeping.

In less than an hour Paul returned with Al. Erin heard them talking in the hall in low voices before they came into the bedroom. She told Al the story, begged him to find out all he could and he left, promising to do his best.

After he left, Paul sat across the room from her, sympathy in his eyes, hoping that Al would come back with good news.

"You want to tell me the whole story now, Cindy," he asked softly.

"Yes, I guess it doesn't make any difference anymore... you'll find out all the sordid details in the paper shortly."

Tearfully she went back to the first time she had met Lars, telling him how full of hope she had been, so sure that she could conquer the big city all by herself, and how it just hadn't worked out that way.

It hurt her to remember all the good, sweet, tender times she had had with Lars and she broke into sobs several times before she could get the whole story out.

"He introduced me to many people, some kooks, some influential, but every one of them was involved in the rackets somehow."

"Sounds like you have had quite a time, but everything will be all right now. Don't worry, I'll stick by you."

"Dear, sweet Paul. I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't have come to you."

She told him about her involvement with Harris, the threat of exposure, his lining her up with Johnson, the parties, the dope, everything, not holding back any detail she could think of.

He listened in silence, not really in a state of shock, but with a realization that these things really do happen. She looked so lost, so helpless, that he wanted to go to her, put his arms around her and hold her, but he knew that the timing was bad.

It was early evening before Al returned.

He dropped wearily into a chair by the bed while Paul and Erin waited anxiously for what he had to say.

"Thank God I quit the newspaper racket," he said. "My feet are killing me!"

"For God's sakes, tell us what you found out," Paul interrupted.

"Well," he said, looking seriously at Erin, "I'm afraid it's not very pleasant."

They looked at him in silence.

"The papers say hardly anything about it, as I guess you know," he went on, "only that Lars was murdered and they're holding Lacy." He paused. "But I found out from some pals on the police beat that the cops have a dragnet out for you." He stopped to light a cigarette and took a deep drag.

"But why?" Erin said, "I wasn't even there when it happened"

"Yeah, I know. But Lacy seems to have a beaut of a story. She may be nuts but she sure can think fast. Anyway, her story is that you were there all the time, that Lars had just told you he was going to leave you and go off with her."

"What?" exclaimed Erin, "but."

"Now wait a minute! Let me finish with the gruesome details... that he was going to go back to Lacy and you then got so insanely jealous and furious that you attacked Lacy and during the scrap you gave her a black eye - and they say she's really got a beauty. Then, Lacy says, she drew out her gun in self-defense against you as you were so hysterical she was afraid you were going to kill her. Lars battled you apart, but you broke loose and attacked Lacy again. She still had the gun in her hand, with no intentions of using it, naturally, but in the scuffle you knocked her about so hard that the gun went off and accidentally killed Lars. So, although she was technically holding the gun when it went off, it was purely accidental on her part and she's innocent of blame! It was really you who was responsible for his death - having started the fight and knocked her around so much it went off."

"But... but... but that's ridiculous!" Erin stammered.

"Yeah, I know. But you got anything to prove it? It's her word against yours."

She looked at him blankly and then said, horrified, "No. Absolutely nothing. I didn't see anyone while I was out."

"Of course, there's another thing that might back up her story," Al said. "I mean the part about Lars leaving you to go back to Lacy."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's been common talk around the Club that you and Lars had split up, you know - or didn't you? Some were saying that you left Lars, others that Lars had left you. Unfortunately, Lars never said anything about it, so who's to really know?"

"My God," Paul said.

"But Al!" Erin said. "Lars and I made up weeks ago." She swallowed hard and then went on in a small, broken voice, "He even said he wanted to marry me."

"Yeah," Al said, "fat chance the cops will believe that, on top of everything else, when you tell them you'd just been off spending a week with Paul." They sat in silence, looking at one another.

"Well, God knows what we can do," Al said. "But you'd better hole up here for awhile, it's as safe as anyplace, because no one knows you know Paul. In the meantime, I'll snoop around some more and see what else I can pick up."

He grabbed his hat and left.

Erin felt as though she had aged ten years in the last twenty-four hours. Even Paul, his face white and drawn, looked years older. Following so soon after Lars' death, this new, apparently unsolvable problem made her alternately burst into uncontrollable tears and then into hysterical laughter.

In a moment of comparative calm she said to Paul, "I swear to God if I ever get out of this mess, I'll never go back to that kind of life - never as long as I live! I'll never make love for money, never smoke a joint, never shoot horse!" She smiled at him wanly. "And if I do, you can strangle me yourself - that is, if you haven't already given me up for lost."

It was Paul who, late that evening, thought of Conrad Harris.

"Say, what about that Harris guy? Isn't he a big dog or boss around here? Maybe he could help you."

"Conrad! Of course!" she said excitedly. "Oh, Paul, get him to come over. Right away! He'll know what to do."

"Maybe I'd better go over to his place, instead of calling. He doesn't know me from Adam."

"Good idea. Here, I'll write him a note, saying I've got to see him."

Paul dashed off and Erin waited impatiently. She slipped on Paul's dressing gown and paced up and down the living room.

Conrad arrived, but without Paul, explaining that he wanted to see her alone. Although he had read in the papers that Lars had been killed and Paul had filled in the details, she told him the story all over again.

"And so I thought of you, Conrad," she concluded. "Can't you think of anything to get me out of this mess? You do believe that I really wasn't there, don't you?"

"Of course, I do, Erin," he said. "But I must say you're in one sweet pickle. Nothing we can't get you out of, though." He pulled her down on his lap. "Sit here. I can think better." He played idly with the tassel of her robe while he stared into space, thinking deeply.

After some minutes he said slowly and thoughtfully, "Well, Erin, I know a way out of this. But it might not work and it means sticking my own neck out." He looked at her seriously. "Are you sure you didn't see anyone while you were out walking, or anyone who'd remember you on your way over here?"

"Positive."

"Good. Frankly, I wouldn't do this even for you - except that you gave me that tip about that expose. That guy had gone pretty far, too far for comfort, and if I'd found out only a few days later, it would have been the fireworks. So."

"So?" she said hopefully.

"It so happens that I was alone, completely alone, last night, even the maid was away. Now, we'll have to work out a story that mutually checks, get the hours straight and everything." He paused. "I'll swear that you spent the night with me."

"Oh, Conrad!" She collapsed with relief against him and kissed him.

He patted her on the shoulder. He said, "This Lacy babe will probably break down and confess completely when they put the pressure on after I swear you were with me, as, of course they'll believe me, and not her."

"But in any case," he added, "you'd better leave Chicago for a while. Got any money?"

She shook her head.

"I'll give you a thousand bucks, which should keep you out of sight for awhile until this blows over."

They talked for a while, rehearsing their stories and then he said he had to leave. She walked with him to the door. In the hall she flung herself against his chest and kissed him, murmuring her thanks for what he was doing.

"Forget it, baby," he said. He kissed her on the mouth.

"I guess I won't be seeing you for a while, Erin. How about one for the road?"

He slipped her robe aside and ran his hands over her naked, golden body. She closed her eyes, her heart a tight knot of sorrow as his warm hands, passing so lightly and caressingly over her tender flesh, reminded her of her last night with Lars, in reality such a short time ago, but already as though it had happened in another life. Standing face to face, he pressed her against the wall and took out his erect penis. As he gently kissed her he quietly nudged his member up between her parted thighs and she held him by the shoulders and submitted passively, keeping her eyes closed all the while, for the last time in her life she imagined it was Lars making love to her; that it was he who was so lovingly kissing her, he who was so warmly sliding his hot, thick member up the center of her being and making her rich female juices flow, he who was so tenderly kissing away the tears which flowed silently between her closed lids and ran down her face. After they had both come, he kissed her lightly on the mouth, ran a hand over her thick, blonde hair and walked out without saying a word.

True to his word, Conrad went to the police, said he had heard they were looking for Erin and swore she had been with him the night of the murder. Because he was a well-known and influential man, they believed him without question. As he had predicted, Lacy, confronted with Conrad's statement, broke down and confessed that she, herself, had killed Lars, although she maintained until the end that Erin had been there earlier, but the police only laughed at her. Shortly after her confession she went completely insane.

Erin was not even called down to the police station. Conrad had slipped the officer in charge of the case a sealed envelope, bulky with ten dollar bills, and with a wink and hint about a Captaincy in the police department which was unfilled, but which he implied the officer would be handsomely suited for, had requested that Erin's name be left entirely out of the affair. So even in the newspapers she was only anonymously referred to as "the woman Lars Mahoney had been living with."

Erin stayed with Paul until the case was closed, spending the days wandering dejectedly about the apartment or for hours staring silently out the window, her chin in her hand. Steadily she lost weight until she looked like a thin, pale ghost.

Paul was always there in the background, a quiet, sympathetic Paul who waited patiently for her to get over her sadness.

One day she smiled at him and said, "Well, I guess I'd better get off your neck, Paul. You've put up with me long enough!"

"I'd like to have you on my neck for the rest of my life, Cindy," he said quietly.

He went to her and took her tenderly into his arms and told her all the things that he had never been able to say before.

"I want you to marry me, sweetheart," he told her, kissing her lightly.

"I know you're not ready to give me a definite answer yet, but why don't you come home with me, stay with your parents for awhile, and take it easy until you know what you want to do?"

He told her that his parents wanted him to take over the family farm so that they could retire and that he wanted to make his life with her.

She thought for a while and said with a slow, sweet smile, "All right, Paul. I think I will go back home with you. It sounds so wonderfully peaceful."



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The End
© Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com