BEE-7213A

Eager To Bed Bunny

by Eileen Over



Chapter 1

"How do you like my new string bikini?" The girl taking a pose like a swimmer on a diving board was a stunning creature. Hugh stretched along his sofa thinking it was a good thing they were in his apartment and not in a pool; otherwise Louise would be leaving every male swimmer awe-struck.

"Beautiful, like everything else you buy."

"Correction. You buy. It's your money, after all."

Hugh, naked except for shorts, propped himself up on an elbow, a good-looking, sun browned man in his early thirties with shaggy, wheat-colored hair that took on glints of gold or silver according to the light. Slit-eyed, he watched Louise move about, showing what there was, which wasn't a hell of a lot, of the new bikini.

He enjoyed that rippling fleshed body, so femininely shaped, and the bouncing breasts that, while rich, were disciplined by a perfect roundness. A maddeningly curved body for whom some men in this town would offer a king's ransom for one night.

This beautiful girl with the face more suited for films than ordinary life was his, part of him, and men envied him because he kept all at a distance, allowing no one even to approach Louise.

Sure, he was still young and he had money and they all thought he was class here in London, born of wealthy parents, expensively educated and once holding an officer's commission. No one knew that he had gotten his cash the hard way, from working as a waiter, clerking in a pants store, running a lousy dry -cleaning service, hustling as a room clerk and breaking his back in the mines, first in Pennsylvania and then down there in South Africa.

No one knew and if any suspected maybe they did not give a damn. His money concerned them, and this beautiful blonde who had come across the seas from America to visit Hugh here concerned them more. They wanted her and he had her, was sleeping with her not only nightly but daily too.

They would hate him even more if they knew the true score, knew Hugh and Louise, who were perfect bedmates, were in fact brother and sister.

He left the couch to reach for her but Louise was elusive as quicksilver, sliding right through his grasp, tiptoeing backwards over the rug in a tormenting dance. She struck seductive poses, stepping near enough for him to be impressed by the gracious kick of her thighs and the honeyed odor floating up from her loins.

"How many times have you slept with me, dear brother?"

"You've been here seven days." This was ridiculous, his standing there naked as the day he entered this lousy world and his penis shooting out like a broomstick.

"I'm talking about the number of time we've fornicated. I record it somewhere near fifty screws." Louise was near him, her hands exploring his privates, her fingers tickling the formidable penis that was so thick at the base and bulbous at the end.

"You want to stop to count it's okay with me." On his part Hugh busily explored her inviting contours, playing with the long, extremely round but compact body. Her curves were so delectable as to make him feel damned lascivious and capable of rape. His sister had that ability to provoke him into a bestial passion every time, so that he always craved her flesh.

He winced as her inch-long fingernails dug into his bar. But he noticed too that the steady fondling of his penis had not only quickened her breathing but caused the nipples on her big tits to enlarge.

It was incest, with this kid whom he had last seen as a little, curly-headed blond tot, his woman. He had a fiancée, a girl he intended to marry and with whom he had never slept, but he ceased thinking of her the day Louise re-entered his life. He planned to get over to France and live there a while, and his sister was the most logical person to take over his opulently furnished fiat here in London. But God, he had been unprepared for this beautiful girl!

He squeezed her breasts, causing moans to issue from her tightened throat Then, willingly, because she always requested it, he went through the passionate ritual of kissing her ears, pasting soft kisses on her closed eyelids and cheeks, and then on the shapely, pulsing mouth.

The girl alternated between cries and the croons of a happy bird, catching her breath occasionally to kiss him back roughly. Her teeth did a job on his lips and he had to tear his mouth away.

While he held her writhing hips she twisted her head from side to side, seemingly having difficulty breathing. "Ahhh, ahhh, ahhhh! Wait ... oh, wait, please wait!"

Eyes closed tight, she was a woman possessed, her desires brimming over. His hand rested on the thick bush covering her mons veneris, so soft and downy. The hairs were somewhat damp, and thinking of the rasping friction against his pubic mound during intercourse had him ripping the panties off her, actually tearing them down her long thighs.

With her blond hair flying about she ceased taunting him and became the aggressor, her demands greater than his. She forced her luscious, curved body against his and begged him to enter her.

But Hugh insisted on comfort and he yanked Louise down the hall to the huge bedroom and sent her spinning inside. While she twisted about on the wide bed he mounted her, filling his hands with the delicious flesh of her breasts.

"You're insane, Louise."

"Oh, darling, darling, don't talk ... oohhhh!" She bared her teeth, "Get into me!"

He went between her legs to rub the tip of his penis slowly along her vaginal lips and build sensation within her. A short moan of pleasure opened her mouth as she lifted the finely carved cheeks off the bed. Beads of fluid dribbled along his instrument, seeping from her opening as he entered.

"Ooooooo!" Her revolving buttocks wrinkled up the bedspread in a fiercely rhythmic motion.

He was not yet fully in the palpitating slit, for her insides actually created some hurt. The walls were closing in, the muscles in use, wringing the hell out of his manhood, tearing it off.

"Be still, sweetheart ... just a moment ... lie there still. Now!"

"Eeeeeeee!" The girl was too rapacious, her posterior spinning around and around, her breath hot and panting. His withdrawal, while easing the hurt for him, brought her moment: "I am there!"

She cried out and enveloped him strongly with her shapely limbs, sheltering the leaping penis within her fluttering vagina. A plateau of sensual madness was reached and she shuddered atop it.

What a female animal!

He held fast even though he was deafened by her strident sounds. "Girlie, girlie, you're still coming!"

"Ooooo, am I climaxing!"

He had to know it because he could easily feel her insides snapping like the sails of a boat against his tool. But he rose and fell, taking the climaxing creature calmly, almost dispassionately, trying to maintain his control. His passions were at their height, but no emotion registered on his face.

Louise's orgasms always affected her in a strange manner. Her long body was on the verge of a fit as she started to shake. She gasped from a sudden sting in her loins and tried to shove him off, as if desirous of being free. Then he was brought back and again tightly grasped.

"Ooooh, oh, heavens, it's so wonderful ... to think that my brother gives me the best I've had!"

He was jealous if she talked about others and did not want to hear it, especially now.

"Your girlfriend Jennifer won't be this good, will she?"

Hugh ground against her. "I ... don't ... know!"

"Ahhh, there, there, it passed, finally. Ohhh, man was that a come!" Louise blinked her slanting eyes. "You do know. Jennifer will be a dud compared to me."

He did not want to think about the girl due to enter his life again nor did he want an end to this sexual frenzy with his sister. He glided his hands over her full, curving hips in a circling motion. "Did you move!"

She twisted under him, rubbing her hot stomach to his, her breasts hard and fiery. The rounded rear that he adored went on rolling smoothly and rhythmically.

Now it was his turn to try for an orgasm and he went up and down, ramming all that he had up her crack, shoving until the rounded tip touched something at the end of the soaking wet opening.

"Nooooo, not like that ... aaahhh, not so wild, ohh, you devil!"

He was taking her rapidly, possessing her again, disregarding her cries. A staunch bed partner, she worked under him, enjoying the swift but nonetheless rhythmic thrusts of his penis.

"Are you on your way yet, darling?"

"I am going ... I can't hold out, the way that bottom of yours keeps ... turning."

"A good bottom, isn't it ... good for you, my love!"

She sent the lower part of her body around and around, the undulations of her hindquarters so swift that each of his thrusts was matched in intensity. Her legs went straight up and locked around his waist.

With a sharp cry he came, spilling his seed the moment that her climax began. But he remained in her, enabling her to reach her peak and pass it, coming violently.

"Yeeeeoooowwww, ow, ow, owwwww! Ahh, darling, ohh, my darling!"

He slept and dreamed a wonderful dream in which he and Louise explored a world that never existed, romping and laughing like children without any problems. But when he woke he faced some real problems; for an affair like this was against all the rules laid down by men.

The other side of the bed was empty. His first stop was the kitchen, where he sighted a prepared salad heaped in a bowl. The door of his luxuriously appointed bathroom was open and he heard the rasp of a towel drawn across a wet body.

Louise blew him a kiss. Her blond hair was piled atop her head. The bobbing breasts, freshly scrubbed and glistening, caught his eye, those splendid breasts that had doomed him from the start.

Remorse caught him now and Hugh turned away, saying he was hungry. In the living room he paced the length of the carpet, recreating in exact detail the prelude to this act of incest.

It had been shortly after her arrival and Louise, hot and sweating, was in the guest room Hugh had prepared for her. He had not realized his sister was naked and had entered without knocking. He had stared with undisguised admiration at the curvaceous body of this young girl.

"Come in," Louise had said, completely uninhibited.

Hugh was stunned by the spherical breasts. Speechless, he watched a ball of perspiration dribble between the epic-sized globes and glisten down the slope of the domed, dimpled belly, to be absorbed by the snarled mat of yellowish hair.

Ashamed, yet in a state of awe, he again swept his eyes over his sister's buoyant breasts and Louise, aware of her brother's sudden turmoil, had caressed the quivering spheres.

"They are beautiful, aren't they? I sometimes wear a bra, but I don't have to. Touch them, see how firm they are."

He looked at the rounded feminine thighs adorned by the yellow patch, at the dimpled belly, and his hands went to the sumptuous, jutting globes. They were breathtakingly perfect and melon firm, but they were the breasts of his sister. With his fingertips and palms burning Hugh fled.

They went out to eat that evening and afterwards he showed her London by night, not the dives of Soho, nor the luxury of Mayfair, but the gone-to-seed streets of Chelsea and a club along Fulham Road where Louise danced seductively, with her leg between his and her belly and breasts pasted to him. They danced non-stop that night, leaving their drinks untouched, and he accepted her not as his sister but as a very desirable woman. One of his hands was clamped against her shoulder blade and the other glided over the forbidden area of her thrusting rump. His arousal was obvious, but instead of drawing back Louise bore in. She locked her arms about his neck and twisted her hips from side to side.

As they left the club her hand, patting his waist affectionately, slid down; the fingers, straight together as if to deliver a karate chop, brushed his genitals. It was the true touch of a coquette hurting his erected member.

"Oh, oh, what has happened to my brother?"

"Louise ...!"

She had drawn near, bringing her hot mouth close. "Don't say anything and don't think, otherwise we're lost. Now let's get home."

He handled his car, a new Aston Martin which he was always reluctant to drive in London's dense traffic, like an untrained driver. He was afraid of the moment ahead.

Once home he poured half a glass full of scotch to steady himself. But Louise was calm, humming as she stripped, leaving her dress and stockings on an armchair and strolling pantie-clad to the bedroom. He drank, swearing he would not touch her, but when she called out, "Come to me," Hugh undressed and went to lie down next to her.

With urgency throttling them both, the usual foreplay had to be passed over. But while he tweaked her already erected nipples and massaged the great, round breasts, she clutched his head and kissed him hard, searching within his mouth with her probing tongue. The way their hearts pounded and their combined gasps reverberated, each knew the game could be over too quickly. It was unnecessary to whisper 'slow down' for she understood and willed him to lie on his side facing her.

As their breathing took on a more natural tone their fingers explored. She crooned over the hardness of his phallus and he titillated the vaginal lips and flicked his forefinger at the small, rigid clitoris.

There was too much strength in her fingers and with her wrist jerking he sensed he could easily climax and shoot his stuff all over their bodies. Gently he pried her fingers away from his staff and climbed over her. Underneath, she waited, silent, only her rotund buttocks rasping against the sheet. Her legs came up and went out just as the tip of his hardness began to bore between the fluttering vaginal lips.

"Ahh, there, there!"

"Easy now, don't move!"

"Ooohhh," she groaned as he shoved his way in, pushing through the creamed wetness clogging the top of her small passageway.

Entering her was so exciting that a sharp thrill raced from the tip of his instrument along its length to the root, cutting through his stomach and tearing burningly up and down his spine.

Gasping in that searing moment of pain he rammed all the way in, hard, bull-like, stretching her. She wrapped her legs about his waist and brought her rotating ass up off the bed, slamming her pelvis into his and - coming!

"Oh, no, no, not so quick! Ahhh, no, I wanted it to last! Aghhhh!"

While the spasms twisted her, nearly unseating him, he gripped her strongly, waiting until a final whoosh of breath indicated the passage of her orgasm. He remained motionless, not moving, feeling the vise-like tightening of her insides.

Her arms slid away, her round buttocks flattened from her relaxed weight, and she looked up at him with shining eyes. He kissed her softly, then arched, pulling most of his length out and sinking it in to the hilt, speeding up as he repeated the maneuver. She twisted under him, not so wild this time, so that each could savor the act.

"I never came that fast before, you know. Man, I was hot!"

"I barely got into you."

"But it was that feeling of all of you, just forcing in. Ohhh!" She closed her eyes dreamily and gently sent her ass around and around.

Another climax was building up within her but he had to control himself or else he would be coming along with her. Her experienced vagina had a sureness of grasp that brought on the burning sensation again. The walls of her insides flapped like the sails of a ship against his tool. He was aware of heat, of bubbling cream and muscular tension.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Each time she sank back upon the bed her vagina tightened, tearing the skin on his cock in a downward stroke. Then she arched, digging her feet into the bed, taking his weight and hers on her shoulders, bringing the revolving buttocks up, the vaginal lips sliding up the length of his shaft.

"No, no, not like that! Darling," he called this girl who was his sister, "not like that!"

"I am going to come! Ohh, brother, darling I am going to come. Ahhh, dearest, I am ... coining!"

He sent his hands under the oscillating ass to still the twisting cheeks, but she was thrusting up violently under him as the climax caught her. "Eeeeeooowwwww!" she shouted in his ear, and then he was shouting too as he exploded, his come detonating within her cunt and shattering the walls.

She was still moving, still flinging that ass around and squeezing, squeezing until another orgasm was squeezed out of that juicy opening.

"Eeeee, Im off again!"

He was finished, if still hard, but her muscular writhings were so strenuous that they hurt. His penis was gripped and wrenched, the tip especially caught in a narrow passageway of velvet-covered steel. He screamed, for the pain was making him shrivel instantly, but she would not stop rubbing the length of her thighs up and down his flanks nor halt the revolutions of that mad ass.

"Stop, stop!"

She rose up in a coughing fit and then she fell back, a hand pressed to her mouth and her lovely eyes rimmed with tears.

"That was a good one!"

"A finisher." On his knees, he looked down at his smarting, mangled penis.

They remained naked all the time, eating, drinking, sleeping, occasionally talking, but mostly screwing. As the days passed, he stopped seeing friends and acquaintances and seldom went out. Still he considered the thing he was doing with his sister wrong and the shadow of Jennifer, the girl he was to marry, hung like a dark cloud over them.

One evening after a round of sex Louise and he spoke about Jennifer. Louise raised herself on one elbow, threw back her hair and took a deep breath. Her magnificent, voluptuous body shivered, her eyes seemed deep and fathomless, and a hoarse breath is-sued from her lips.

"Boy, are you good for me! What a shame it's got to be incest."

"We are forgetting Jennifer. She's coming in tomorrow and will head straight here. She's been here before and she's got a key. If we're still active it's possible for her to barge right in and catch us."

"So we've got this night and part of tomorrow morning, is that it?"

"That's it."

Louise stretched her long body lazily and watched him, like a cat, through slitted eyes. Hugh looked at the smooth sweep of his sister's thighs and the flare of her generous buttocks. He started to run his hand up from her ankle to her hip in a sweeping stroke.

"Ooohhh, my brother is getting hard, I can see it rising!"

"This is getting to be a goddamn habit with us."

"Not a damn thing wrong with that except ... except for your future bride. Ahh, come on, let's have these last few hours to ourselves."

There was a thumping clutch of lust within his loins, producing a hardness that froze all sanity. He stared at her breasts, those buoyant and resilient globes, with rapturous anticipation.

Her hands glided over his shoulders as she writhed against him and nipped at his ears with sharp teeth. He felt the pressure of her breasts, the tightness in her belly, and his hands enjoyed the succulence of her magnificent buttocks, so satin-smooth, hard but always quivering.

"Aghhhhh!" With a tortured groan Hugh gripped his sister's big ass and brought her to him.

"No, no, not like this, no so rough, you'll split me open!"

She was a woman aroused and squirming, but she urged him to control himself. Louise leaned back in her brother's arms, accentuating the thrust of her powerful breasts. Her stomach scalded his, making his breath short, but he made her cry out too when his head dipped. He licked her opulent melons, tonguing the coral tips.

Louise's cry was plaintive. "Quick ... my darling, take me!"

In bed she was a mad animal that should be shot, a choleric beast foaming at the mouth, her eyes wild, her long, shapely body bucking spasmodically, feverishly, in an orgiastic rhythm, the rotund ass bouncing like two balls.

Hugh pinched his pole of a penis with thumb and forefinger, readying it for an assault on that lovely, over-juiced vagina. This was going to be, if not the final, at least the next-to-final screw with his sister.

She was moaning while he poised above her to play with her breasts, stroke her belly or slip a hand between the thighs he had come to know so well. But Louise, not to be delayed, reared up, her long legs mingling with his, her pubic bush scraping his groin, and the sharply pointed tits, two big globes, trailing through the matted hair on his chest.

"Fuck me!" She made urgent motions with her pelvis. "Now ... I am in agony!"

Her pussy was so appealing that he took some seconds off to test the bushy hairs, work a finger along the slit and tease the tumescent clitoris. His sister started to plead. But he was running his tongue over the curling hair, shooting it deep between the fleece into the slight chasm.

Now she was wet and squishy and coining. "Quick! With your prick!"

He was pulled into the valley of her arching thighs and into her vagina with her already moving convulsively in the slow rhythm of the act. When he sank to the root and his groin went flush with hers she screamed and climaxed.

"Ohhh, it was swift, ahh, so swift and please, ohh, please give me another one!"

Her orgasm left a strong odor rising like fumes from her tortured, writhing body, and it put a flame to his bridled passion. Now he went in and out of her abruptly, with short strokes, brutally determined to make her climax again, make her moan and wince and cry out.

She surged up, "Can we ... make it together?"

"I ... I don't ... know."

"Try, please try!"

She was too frenzied, the vaginal lips a tight ring encircling his penis, the tiny clitoris a scraping nub and damn it, he was stiffening, muscle spasms were sending him into a weird rhythm, bringing his moment on.

"You're too wild ... I can't last."

"Last, please ... last!" Her breathing was more ragged, for his quickened lunges again had her right there, at the brink of rapture. And as she started to make it Louise shouted and rose, bringing every muscle in her unbelievably shaped body into play. She was at once both tormented and grateful. "Try, try, trrryyyyyy!"

"Aghhhh!" Roughly, his hands forced their sweating way past the curved but nonetheless hefty thighs to latch on to the silky - smooth rounds of her swollen ass. His head burst, his temples throbbed and, molding his body to hers, he came. His outpour met hers as it seeped through the fluttering vaginal walls and gushed up.

"Wheeewwww!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeahhhhh!" He was a dead man on top of a worn-out girl. Still joined, his joint soaking, they slept.



Chapter 2

It was a typical London day, raining. The rain came down at an angle, tapping steadily against the glass fronts of stores on Park Lane and Marble Arch Road. With traffic snarled near the Playboy Club, people on the corners had a difficult time trying to cross. Hugh stood with his sister, Louise, under the striped awning of a shop where they had just purchased gifts for his fiancée, Jennifer. They stepped out and the full force of the rain hit them.. A gust of wind lifted Louise's skirt to the level of her supple, always swaying hips. One look at the seductive symmetrically shaped thighs and the sleek legs brought on a fit of lust.

"You know what I'm thinking?" He had the fervent wish to take her home and into bed. He ran a hand down her side to rest it on the swell of her hips.

Louise leaned to press her pelvis into his groin. "No, no, you've got to go and buy flowers for your intended."

"Can't we step into a hotel for a quickie?"

She took his arm, walking with him in the downpour, her delicious hindquarters swinging. His thoughts were filled with sex. Her walk, so fluid, excited him tremendously, keeping him hard.

There were stops, too many to suit him, in Harrod's department store on Brompton Road, then across the street at Scotch House, further down at Harvey Nichol's; and all the while they were two hot animals, clothing sticking to their skin, carrying too many parcels.

"Do you feel any guilt about us?"

"I do," he admitted, "a terrible guilt, but you disturb me so sexually that all I can think about is fucking you."

"Well, with her around I don't think there's going to be a chance." Louise hailed a taxi and as it pulled to the curb she promised Hugh, "It's not over with us yet, not altogether, and maybe we can wring one more screw out of the deal."

He walked off in the rain, his hands now free of all packages, thinking how it had to be over between him and his sister. There had not been a minute's worth of conversation, just hours of screwing.

Ahh shit, now he had to go buy flowers and get his sister off his mind. His fiancée was a beauty, equally shapely, and maybe if he pitched in right away with her, got things going between them in bed, that would end the deal with Louise.

Clutching the bouquet of flowers, Hugh left his car, ran through the slanting rain and entered the apartment building, swinging his arms, shaking the wet from his clothing. He rode the elevator in a nervous state, fearing that some sign in his place could be picked up by Jennifer as a clue. Louise probably wouldn't talk, but could he count on that? How well did he know his sister other than to say that she was a fantastic lay?

He opened the door on an apartment blanketed by shadows. Down the hall a woman awaited him. He mouthed the name, Jennifer. No, this girl was bigger, heavier. It was his sister, glossy-haired, lusty - bodied, offering a smile.

"Jennifer arrived a few minutes ago; she's inside."

He just stood there, the flowers dangling from his wet hand, watching his sister shift her weight from one leg to the other, flaunting her sumptuous body. Her hair was twisted in coils about her head, her eyes slanted, her nostrils flared and that luscious mouth shone too sensuously.

Louise leaned forward, offering him that mouth and a sharp-tasting tongue, and the promises to avoid her went flying. Automatically, it seemed, his free hand reached to grab one of those bowl - shaped breasts. But she was already twisting away.

"Later. Not now!"

He moved after her, inhaling the strong perfume lingering in her wake, eyeing the swinging, always provocative rump.

Every lamp in the living room was on, and the change from darkness was so abrupt that he threw up a hand to shield his eyes. Louise seized the chance to increase his excitement by peppering his face with hot kisses.

"Crissakes," he hissed, "cut it out! What're you trying to do, plant evidence for her?"

"No, just warming you up so that tonight you'll show her a damned good time." She strolled off, leaving him with a rising erection.

He moved about in nervous silence, fighting the urge to flee the trouble building up in his own house. If Jennifer ever found out! God!

Marrying Jennifer was a mistake, he knew, one hell of a mistake. A pretty girl, decent, educated, certainly intelligent; but man, had she been frigid! He remembered previous occasions when, mistaking the warmth in her eyes, he had palmed her breasts. Once she had even allowed him to remove her brassiere. The sight of her naked boobs had roused him into stiffness. Jennifer had a healthy pair, but, covered, they seemed to be a handful, nothing more. It struck him that she had deliberately bound them, flattened them, seeking to reduce their enormity. But were those things big! Even that time he had been allowed only a pinch of her nipples; then the brassiere was drawn up to hide the wealth of those unbelievable mounds from his sight.

"Hugh!"

In the few seconds before they embraced he studied the girl he would marry. Twenty-six years old, with slick dark hair, cut short to her ears, violet eyes set wide apart, a retroussé nose, a round dimpled chin and a generous mouth. Her flawless skin, normally ivory-white, was now tanned olive. Her figure, though slender, was long and perfectly proportioned. The breasts were surprisingly big, the hips rounded, the buttocks compact, and the legs long, full-calved. Now, as usual, she wore a loose-fitting sweater to mask the size of her bosom. But the tight skirt revealed the very girlish waist and tightly curved bottom.

Then she was in his arms, breathless and eager, her mouth soft and sweet, the fragrance of her skin refreshing. Somehow Hugh knew it was going to be all right. At least he hoped it would be all right.

This time when he pulled her to him his hand sought her breasts. He encompassed one of the huge globes and-he drew in his breath. She was not wearing a bra! Nor did she show any inclination to pull away. In fact she was gyrating her belly, letting him know the strength of her slim thighs.

He tossed the flowers aside. They clung to each other, kissing wildly, their hands searching, hers as eager as his. He was both surprised and frightened by her sudden passion. She was giving herself so willingly to the embrace that the fires started by his sister became an inferno.

"Quick, quick, let's get into the bedroom."

"No! Louise!"

"The hell with her. We're engaged! Come on!"

"Later."

"Will you-this time?"

"Yes. I promise."

The dinner was well-cooked, but he ate in misery, listening to the women chat, waiting for darkness to descend so that he could unite with Jennifer, slide his hardness into her.

But the promised moment was delayed. He dropped hints to her, gave knowing looks, but Jennifer remained seated. Then she had to help Louise remove dishes from the table. Then she lingered in the kitchen, washing, while Hugh looked up at the ceiling, cursing. Louise, noticing the bulge in his trousers, whispered: "No go, eh?"

He shook his head. "She's teasing."

"She told me she wants to take a shower."

Hugh looked straight at his sister, reading the suggestion in her eyes. "What're you hinting? That would be dangerous."

"Not if we're quick. I need my little bit too, you know. It won't be fun for me trying to sleep and hearing you two going at it like lusty beasts." She carried the rest of the dishes out.

He stood stock still, his eyes centered on her generous ass stretching the fabric of her skirt. The muscles in her thighs writhed like snakes. Recalling the color and texture of the gnarled hair nestling below the slope of her belly put him in a state.

He had no Illusions. His sister was luscious and he was human. The thought of her big, lusty body threshing under his filled his groin with bubbling vitality.

He entered his room, his heart hammering heavily in his chest, his mind reeling from the overall effect of Louise. His fingers trembled as he removed his clothing. Everything from the touch of her hands to the deep, intense look in her eyes tended to undermine hint.

"She is going to shower!"

He was so disturbed he had not heard her approach. His sister swiftly kissed him. Hugh expected a brief peck, but Louise's open mouth closed over his. He tasted her warm dampness and felt the stabbing spear of her tongue.

"I've already removed my panties. Get into bed, because the minute I hear the shower going I'll come to you."

Louise tugged her silken blouse out of her skirt, pulling it open to bare her enormous breasts, so well-developed and weighty that they swung to and fro like bells. In the next few minutes they would be his-for the last time. Then he would have Jennifer's globes to play with.

It was wrong! Damn it to hell, this was wrong! But what was he to do? With a sigh Hugh finished undressing and pulled the spread from the bed. He was about to double up a pillow for her to rest on but remembered that with her ass Louise needed no pillow.

Nervously, he awaited her approach, his ears attuned to bare feet padding down the hall. What if Jennifer found out? Oh, man, banging his sister! If he felt guilty already his fiancée would surely make him know he was a monster, committing incest under the same roof as the girl he was expected to marry.

A rush of air chilled him and, turning, Hugh saw his sister silhouetted in the doorway, stark naked. She stepped in, whispering breathlessly: "A quickie, while she's in the bathroom showering."

"You know I'm going to be killed."

"Nonsense." Her palms went to his shoulders and she pressed, easing him backward upon the bed. "We'll be so quick she won't know a thing."

"I'm not talking about her." Hugh shifted, bringing his legs together as she climbed over him. "It's you! You're fucking me to death!"

Then I'd say you're helping bring on your death, because look at that penis!" She rolled the upright tube between her palms and, bending, kissed and licked it. "Mmmm! I'd love to fellate you now but there's not enough time."

The long, extremely rounded thighs stiffened, with the athletic muscles leaping up and down their length. The densely bushed mons veneris was brought close to his tip and suddenly, with a great exhalation, he was sucked up into the bubbling cavern. Automatically his hands ran up her stiffened thighs and around to the clenched buttocks.

She made a face, sinking her teeth into her full lip as she lowered her weight, inhaling more of the hardness up into her. Slowly she slid down, twisting her shoulders about and rotating her ass with a violent urgency.

Underneath her, rising up to meet his sister's fall, Hugh heard the sound of the shower being turned off. He had to be swift, he had to climax now before Jennifer came in. He bucked, ploughing up into the softness, feeling his knob scrape the sides.

She squealed, unable to keep quiet, and slammed down in rhythmic thrusts but always rising up in a long, slow, rather drawn-out stroke. "Ahh yes, ahhh yes! Oooooo, ahhhh, oooooo!"

He grabbed the dangling balls of her breasts and suckled the stiffened tips. Her ass, now free of his hands, swung ferociously, the cheeks clenching and unclenching, rubbing together rapidly.

"Ahnnnn, nnnnnnhhhh!" Her hips hollowed and swelled into curves as she rocked. She threw back her hair, raised her tightened face at the ceiling and opened her mouth in an anguished cry.

He tried to shut her up because her climax would make her scream the house down. But her lovely face contained all the sexual insanity a woman of her nature could possess. Her stuff slid down his instrument to gush hotly upon his balls. Then she was on him, mashing the big breasts into him, shuddering and fighting for breath.

Now he punched upward with the lower part of his body, using his cock to jab her into action, but she was an inert form atop him. Finally she lifted her head, smiling with satisfaction, and washed his lips with her wet mouth and tongue.

"I said I'd be quick, didn't I?" She hoisted a leg, deftly rising up and off him in one motion. He just had time to see the upper reaches of her long, luscious thighs awash with his spend and then she was out the door, sculptured buttocks bouncing.

"I'll be damned!" Hugh sat up, feeling unfulfilled, his penis throbbing so hurtingly.

That was when Jennifer, wrapped up in a thick bathrobe, looked in. Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes opened wide. "Good God!"

"Jennifer, baby, come here!"

"No, no!"

"Please!"

Her eyes were fixed on the penis, a veritable monument to male virility, as she backed out the door. "Oh, no, not with your sister racing around like that."

He sighed with frustration. Maybe there was some sort of promise in the remark, a suggestion that when his sister was asleep she might visit him. His fingers touched the wet, unsatisfied instrument. He'd have one of them later, girlfriend or sister, but he was going to bang the ass off one of them.



Chapter 3

More than one hour had passed. In the living room down the hail the two girls conversed, they watched television, they drank wine-while Hugh waited. The fireworks he expected seemed to have fizzed out, and he lay in the dark, hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

He could not figure Jennifer out. She was ripe for sex, but perhaps the shower had cooled her off, strengthening her decision to wait until marriage before giving herself to him. At her age! There she was, cherishing his caresses, unable to hide her emotions; yet he had to turn to his sister for satisfaction.

In disgust he gave up. His erection was gone, his lusts had abated and he might as well hear the latest news and then go to sleep. One thing, though, he was going to have some second thoughts about marrying Jennifer.

He turned on his side to switch on the transistor radio. His door opened and Jennifer entered. She was wearing a flimsy nightgown, and even in the dim light he could distinguish her breasts, huge and round, floating forward as if they had a life of their own.

"Jenn ...!"

"Sshhh!" She put a finger to her lips and came forward on tiptoe to sit at the bottom of his bed.

Why in hell didn't she take off that damned nightgown, he wondered. "What are you hushing me for? I expected you here hours ago."

"I want to talk awhile before I go to sleep," she whispered.

He reached for her, but when he dug his fingers into her arms Jennifer stiffened. As he pulled her on top of him, the lower portion of her body slipped between his opened legs. Immediately he was aroused, acquainting her with his previously unknown penis, large, hard, upright.

"No!" She struggled, but he snapped his legs to her hips, preventing her escape.

"Baby ...!"

"No, Hugh ... not yet ... I am not ready yet."

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"I've prepared myself for this moment and yet I just can't!"

"This doesn't make sense. In this day and age, a girl and the man she's engaged to marry! Now come on! This thing is going into you!"

"I ... I don't know what to do. Suppose it went badly between us? I'm frightened that it would ruin our marriage." She placed the palms of her hands against his chest. "Anyway, we're not in an empty house. Your sister's room is just down the hail."

"Oh hell!" He bent his back, trying to shove his hard penis between the slim, smoothly rounded thighs.

"Please don't!" The kiss she gave him now was too brief, too chaste. "There. Until tomorrow."

"Shit!" His sister's mouth had been hot and pulsing, her tongue a vital thing.

"Don't use that word!"

"Look, if you're going to start nagging. ..." It was best that she leave anyway because shortly afterward he would be at his sister's door, in her bed, and in her body.

"Now you're angry." She offered a better kiss this time, more open - mouthed.

Hugh pulled her to him and forced his hand inside the nightgown. The flimsy fabric strained, then tore all the way down the middle. The massive bosom was bared, the coral nipples as thick as thumbs.

"What're you now, a rapist?"

"Gee-zuz, those tits!"

"Stop!"

"They're enormous! Why in hell do you always dress to tone down the size of those things?"

"They're monstrous, that's why, and the rest of me doesn't match. When I'm nude it looks as if my boobs could pull me forward off balance."

He tried to suckle them and Jennifer pushed him back. "No, enough is enough!"

"It's the first time I've seen them, for Crissakes!"

"It won't be the last. Now let me get out of this room because you're running a hell of a temperature and, truthfully, the size of that thing is frightening."

She gave him her mouth for the last time that night and as he kissed her his hands, ever busy, explored the contours of her girlish torso. He arched up, scraping the length of his penis against her coarse pubic hairs, but by bringing her buttocks up Jennifer prevented a merging.

But he had reached her, sent her senses in a turmoil; for her protests now were weak and she could barely gasp, "No, no!"

He parted the slender columns of her thighs and, straining, reached the coveted goal. His knob easily separated the soft vaginal lips, entering about one eighth of an inch. The burning heat encircling his tip sent a fire along the length of his instrument all the way to his scrotum and the tightly packed nest of balls.

"Man! Jennifer!"

"Ow!" She dug her sharp fingernails into his arms and twisted her hips to escape the too-large flaming torch. He had ignited her, but even though her loins were now ablaze, she rolled off him.

"You vicious son of a bitch! Ohhh," She squeezed her legs together. "It hurts! You broke something in-side me! Ohhh!"

"I broke nothing! There was no damned membrane, what the hell're you squawking about?"

"You bastard!"

"What the flick, we're going to be married."

Her breasts, still high and full as she lay on her back, gleamed so whitely that he attacked them, in a fury of emotion, parting them to widen the deep chasm.

"If you touch me!"

"Touch you? I'm going to fuck the very ass off you!"

"Noooo!" Jennifer's body jerked as he pulled up the torn nightgown and bared her slender, well-molded legs.

"Come on, cooperate. It'll be better for you." He aroused her with his hands and mouth, stimulating the erogenous zones. His finger slipping into her cunt found it well juiced and deep enough to take his full length! With his body angled between the long, quivering columns of those inviting thighs he rested the heavy tool on the whorls of pubic hair. Then he drove forward, splitting her evenly.

"Oooohhhh ... oh ... ohhhh!" Jennifer groaned. Her head rolled back and forth over the pillow and her fingers clutched handfuls of the sheet. He was deep in the core of her being, so big, so hurting. But when he rose up, pulling most of the dreadful penis out, she swiftly swung one leg up over his shoulders and broke the contact.

Hugh caught her and, ignoring her whimpering, slammed her back down, face forward, upon the bed.

He pressed his knees between her legs, surprised that they parted so easily, and held her there, on hand flattened on the small of her back at the point where her saucy ass took shape.

"You cunt!"

"Mmmmm," she sobbed, "oohhh, mmmmm!"

It was exciting to him, taking a woman this way, holding her while she writhed, slower now but always rhythmically. Finding no resistance, he bent to rain kisses down her smooth back all the way to the tiny hairs growing at the base of her small, compact ass.

As his hands slid under her, his fingers piercing the taut flesh of her great breasts, she punched up with her hard buttocks, nearly unseating him. "Don't! Please don't!"

Much as Jennifer pleaded, she did nothing to obstruct him. For a moment, breathless, she was aware of his rising penis shooting between her thighs as he pulled her up into position. She shuddered, awaiting his entry, and stiffened her ass cheeks as he again slid his length into her vagina.

It hurt even more, the impact stunning her senses, and she bent forward, screaming into the pillow. He was pulling in and out, throwing himself into an unstoppable rhythm. And his penis! My God, not only was it hard as cement, but unbelievably long! The knob especially scorched her insides and left her nerve ends all raw and throbbing.

"You're tight ... ahh, baby, you're tight, skinning the flesh off me!"

"OOOOOO!" She squirmed underneath her lover, feverishly trying to rid her hole of the scraping torment. But soon she realized that the more she vibrated her small but lovely ass the more frenzied he became.

If I remain still, she told herself, it will soon be over. But ohh, was he killing her, was this degenerate murdering her!

Hugh maintained a steady and rhythmic pace, not once breaking the action to judge her enjoyment. Her coming was not his main concern, for what he wished was to acquaint her thoroughly with his penis, make her accept that her body was not going to be a gift but his rightful due.

"There, baby, there. Good, isn't it? Sometimes it's too small, but right now it's big and stiff especially for you."

He was going to come, but as he approached the peak of his climax Hugh restrained himself and rose and fell more slowly, taking his time, controlling his release.

"You're dripping in me, dripping and it burns!"

"But you love it now."

"No, nooooo!"

He thrust into her all the more violently and, holding back a scream, Jennifer trembled in a last fit of surrender and soon found herself eagerly pushing her ass up at him, using muscles she never knew existed in her vagina to grab at the penis sliding in her slime. She was going to have an orgasm! Oh, no, no, she did not want to!

"Yeahhhhh!" Sensation rose like a swollen river overflowing the banks and Hugh came. He grabbed the elusive, hot-fleshed buttocks, driving his weapon deeper, thrusting more vigorously as he ejaculated.

And it was while he lay still, pasted to her back, that Jennifer experienced an orgasm. She twisted and contorted, her velvet rump grinding as she received the greatest pleasure possible.

When long minutes had passed and they separated, Hugh slumping but Jennifer rapidly recovering her energies, she left the bed. She used the ruined nightgown to mop the perspiration from her quivering body.

"Hugh, like I said before, you're a son of a bitch!"

"Ahh, shut up!" He was aching all over. "You came, so shut up!"

It wasn't so bad with her, he acknowledged, but he needed a woman who knew her way around beds, someone more sexually experienced, like his sister. Matter of fact, although it was rotten to consider it since he had just dropped a wad into Jennifer, he would not be displeased if she went back to where she came from. If all those protests were a sample of what married life would be like then he would rather marry someone else.

Alone now, Hugh sat up and edged away from the small pool of wetness soaking through the sheets. He had to consider it, consider breaking the engagement. He was too lusty a man to put up with a whining girl like Jennifer. The bitch climaxed and she still called him names!



Chapter 4

"The way you two screamed I thought he was murdering you." Louise's hand encircled Jennifer's slim wrist. "Come on, let's wash all that mess off you."

Jennifer, sobbing, allowed herself to be guided into the bathroom and under the shower. "He should not have hurt me so. He's too big and I'm all sore!"

Strangely enough she experienced no surprise when the younger but definitely more sexually learned and heavier girl entered the tub and slipped inside the plastic curtains with her. The hands gliding a fragrant bar of soap over the slender, curving body were soothing.

"I don't take the pill; there was no need to before. Suppose something happens?"

"Oh, stop, Jennifer, all women get laid." She pressed her mouth to the girl's cheek in a comforting kiss. "And you two will be married anyway."

"I don't know if I want to now .... a man who thinks only of sex, what kind of life will that be?"

"He can't be so bad ... in bed."

The girl's hands were doing such wonderful things to Jennifer's breasts, those breasts that were overly large for her body. The great, pouting-tipped boobs were massaged, separated, shaped under the spray of the needle-sharp shower until the tips stung.

"I don't ... ohhh, Louise, not so hard!"

"Did he bring you to climax?"

"Yes."

"Thrilling? Hmmmm? Did he make your vagina open up so wide and then close ever so tight?"

"Worse things than that happened. Ooohhh, leave my tits alone, Louise, please!"

"Some men never get a girl to come and others are such brutes that often a girl's tender body can only be trusted to another girl."

Louise knelt in the tub, rested her face against the slender girl's flat belly and caressingly soaped the long, well-curved legs. Occasionally she licked away soap with her tongue, bringing her chin and her mouth closer to that most hurting part of Jennifer.

"He pained me so, Louise, that even if he is your brother he is not the man for me. He was a beast, I tell you." Jennifer looked down at the sleek head bobbing below her breasts as the tall girl soaped her parted thighs with foam.

"There, darling, we're getting you all nice and clean."

"You have been around quite a bit, haven't you, Louise?"

"Now please stop carrying on. You entered a man's room and climbed into his bed and allowed him into your body. It was not rape and if you popped off then you had fun."

"That's enough." Jennifer turned off the shower. The gentle touch of the girl who might or might not be her future sister-in-law, while soothing, had created such a tumultuous flow within that the breath was leaving her body.

Louise fetched a rough-ribbed towel "Come, you catch hold of one end and we'll wrap ourselves in this and get to bed."

"You're sleeping with me?"

The younger girl's eyes were level, meeting Jennifer's. "Of course. Don't you want me to?"

Jennifer tensed, felt the warm touch of Louise's hand rest lightly on the swell of her hip. A hefty leg slid intimately between her suddenly stiffened thighs. "I ... yes, I want you to."

Locked in the towel with the plump 'hips and thighs of Louise mashed against her own, Jennifer laughingly opened her hand on one of the fruit-like, heavy-fleshed ass cheeks. An exquisite yet prickling tremor hurried over her thighs and groin. Her breasts expanded as she discovered an emotion that was not only new but stirring.

"Oooohhh, Louise, I hurt all over, like when he touched me, only more so."

"I shall soon take care of all that hurt."

In the darkened hallway they were silent, listening for some sound from Hugh's room. Tip-toeing like burglars, they went into Louise's bedroom, their movements restricted by the towel. Then Jennifer pirouetted free, her jutting breasts bouncing, her hips undulating gracefully.

Louise, the all-purpose sex girl, feasting her eyes on the loveliness of the slender Jennifer, found It difficult to stem the roaring tide of lust that churned into foam in her groin.

"Jennifer, you are a dish!"

"I wish I could be beautiful like you. Ohh, that figure, and your face!"

Completely confused, unable to think, Jennifer was a lamb surrendering herself to the slaughter. She could not cope with this moment. When Louise's mouth fastened on hers and those smooth hands fondled her heaving bosom and stimulated the soft skin of her squirming thighs, the girl giggled somewhat hysterically and even blushed.

A lesbian act was sinful! But - Jennifer was beginning to realize that by condemning the lusts of the flesh she had missed a lot, too much, in fact, and a quarter of her life was over.

"Did my brother suck on you here?" Louise was passing her tongue between the huge, swelling mounds, seeking the depth of the valley, licking every residue remaining from the shower.

"Yes ... no, I, don't remember."

"Then I shall do it."

Louise's hand found its way down Into the once - closed area. Jennifer encouraged its roamings and opened her thighs, eager to accommodate any exploration that would increase the desire, the burning desire creeping over her.

The shower - wet hair shaped into a V over the core of the girl's being became entangled as Louise's long finger insinuated itself between the tight vaginal lips and started a series of lascivious movements. The tiny clitoris snapped up, getting harder, bigger, and the walls parted to allow two fingers to penetrate.

"No, Louise, oh, no, no!" Jennifer's slender arms tightened about the other girl's broad back.

"Sooon, real soooooon!"

"Your fingers, ohhh!" Jennifer worked the lower part of her torso, gasping, while she explained: "His penis was too big, a real cock, touching every part of my insides ... Oh, he hurt me!"

"I'll have you all soothed, soon!"

"He ... turned me ... over!"

"What? He gave it to you in the ass-hole?"

"No, not the rectum, but from the rear."

"Dog fashion. Sometimes that position affords the best penetration because it allows every bit of the man to reach the woman."

"Oh, you are so aware of everything."

Not wishing Jennifer to say any more, Louise silenced her with an open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue darted between the other girl's trembling lips, savoring the hot wetness found inside the mouth.

Jennifer threw her head back, fusing her loins to the other girl's. With a choking, almost agonized cry she became more mobile, more animated. She poked the fleshy buttocks of the heavier girl, not caring that her manner of response was not only raw but brutal.

Louise, on the other hand, knew just how to madden the conscience-stricken girl. First she feasted herself on the deep-clefted bosom, licking and kissing and suckling and biting those big globes. The dimpled belly came in for a share, then the dark-tufted love mound was tongue-lashed, followed by a traveling-mouthed visit along each of the furnace-hot thighs.

Beyond all control, Jennifer sank to the floor, huddling in a heap on the rug, her heart and loins pounding furiously. The ache she now felt was- the same as when Hugh had made her climax.

Louise leaned over the tortured girl, swinging her breasts so that her stiffened tips swept back, and forth like dueling swords across Jennifer's swollen nipples. The latter strained upward, fighting to hold the position, the muscles on her slender thighs bulging.

Slowly, teasingly, Jennifer's limbs entwined with her partner's. She held her breath and moved gently at first, remembering Hugh's motions, imitating the pause and the break. She thought that Louise's body, large, yet very curved, was fantastic. The motions of that big body were of a wildness that lashed her into sensuality. When the two fingers again entered her, Jennifer squeezed her thighs together, crushing Louise's 'hand, and came!

The two girls dove into the foaming pool of lust, searching for, and finding, raw passion. Stripped of their senses, bestial, sticky-fingered, with come smeared over their thighs, their breasts, their buttocks, they willingly allowed themselves to be tossed about in a crescendo of violence. Their mouths blended, their legs and thighs held fast.

Louise shifted about, moving upwards, positioning herself so that Jennifer's face was trapped between the boiling heat of her big, sweating thighs. The beautiful girl's groin reeked of come and lust. The pubic hairs were a tangled mass, but Jennifer's tongue separated each one until the lips of the girl's vagina were completely exposed.

"I am going to eat your cunt out!"

"Yessssssss!"

Jennifer raised her head slightly, stretched her tongue, and penetrated the humid cave, searching in there until the big girl screamed and twisted about. Louise rolled off, still climaxing, and lay in a daze, moaning.

Then the slender girl straddled the prone girl, shoving her small ass against Louise's face while she bent over the slit tightened split-seconds before by orgasm. In this sixty-nine position the two girls lay, one younger, larger, vastly experienced and the other, older, slender now acquiring her first sexual experience.

Jennifer's outspread thighs twitched as lust circulated like boiling lava through her bloodstream. The warm lips made contact with her cunt, the tongue sneaked in like an uninvited visitor, and with a cry she buried her face between Louise's long, big-calved legs in the sticky wet crotch.

Hugh, who had seen and done far too many things in his lifetime, was shocked, not because his sister was indulging in a lesbian act because hell, he knew that Louise would not stop at mere incest. Nor was he surprised by Jennifer's participation. But he could not get over the fact that Jennifer, acting the perfect virgin in his bed, was a wild lesbian in his sister's room.

He had heard them moaning and groaning and gone to stand in the black hallway, ease the bedroom door slightly open and watch them grappling like wrestlers on the floor, eating each other out, taking all positions, measuring and squeezing asses and tits and licking and biting and blowing air into all the openings on a female's body.

Well, he was getting out. The trip he had considered to the Continent was to be a reality, beginning early in the morning. Now, while his sister and his fiancée lesbianized themselves into exhaustion, he would pack. When they were sleeping he'd flee, leaving them to figure out why. As for their plans, they probably had a couple lined up.

Success only resulted in confusion, he realized. The fortune he had earned turned him into a playboy and non-thinker. Well, he would seek work again, backbreaking work, and pretend his bank accounts and stocks did not exist. Elsewhere, he would find himself and leave those two dykes to screw themselves ragged.



Chapter 5

A few days later Hugh was aboard a ship that carried tourists up the coast of Denmark and then down around the edge of France into the warm waters of the Mediterranean. The passengers were a mixed lot and, while none were rich, some were well-off and others quite poor, having saved for this trip. Hugh traveled simply, with just one suitcase and enough money to last him one month. Before the money went he hoped to obtain some employment and see again what it was like to work hard.

In the bar he chose an empty stool and ordered a double scotch. When it was placed before him he cast a dirty look at the amber-colored liquid, wishing he could substitute a cocktail for it. Finally he shrugged and downed it, wincing as its rawness ripped his throat.

Outside, while walking along the deck, he experienced a vague sense of emptiness, thinking he should have lingered in the bar and struck up an acquaintance with one of the women.

The round of drinking and party-going had provided him with a label: playboy. Finding a woman here might bring on the same old problem he was now trying to avoid. But what the hell could he do?

As he entered the dimly lit passageway music blared out of the stateroom adjacent to his cabin. He stood listening for a moment to the high-pitched laughter and the clink of glasses. They were certainly having a ball in there. The Baidwins were a middle-aged couple, but they knew how to swing. They must have invited everyone to join in the fun.

Hugh entered his cabin, slipped out of his jacket and removed his necktie. Somewhat weary, he sat on the edge of the bunk and stared at the floor. The music reached him, making him feel all the more out and alone. Some sense of curiosity prompted him to wonder how the Baldwin's managed to squeeze so many guests into their stateroom.

His own cabin was no larger than a closet. It had two bunks, an enamel washbasin and a single hard-backed chair. His hastily packed suitcase leaned against the bulkhead. His loafers, a pair of socks and a dirty towel were scattered along the floor. I have become a slob, he said to himself.

The cabin suddenly seemed sticky and hot and his throat felt parched. He was all for returning to the bar. He rose and began to pace back and forth until he swayed against the upper bunk and had to rest his fevered brow on the cold metal.

The door was suddenly flung back and a man stood there. It was Baldwin, the host of the party next door, a man who sold used cars and had not taken a vacation in years.

"Hello there!"

Hugh nodded.

Baldwin threw a thumb in the direction of his stateroom. His hair was lank and plastered against his pasty-white forehead, his eyes glazed and his dinner jacket wrinkled.

"Don't you hear the brawl, man? We are raising pure hell in there. A super party! Why don't you join us?"

Hugh moved away from the man's outstretched hand. "No, I'm not dressed. But thanks all the same for the invitation."

"Ahh, crap! My daughter's asking for you. She wants to have at least one dance with you, man."

The image of Jane Baldwin dashed fleetingly across the screen of his mind and Hugh thought he would like to do more than dance with the girl whose innocent face was placed on top of a luscious body.

"Some other time."

"A couple of hot girls in there. A guy like you, single, still young and good-looking ... ohh, man it would be a picnic."

"Well, give me a moment and perhaps later I'll look in."

Somehow he got the man out and closed the door. Young Jane was ripe for an affair, but even as ordinary lust would urge him toward her common sense warned Hugh to keep his distance. During the entire trip, whenever her parents turned their backs, she would brazenly display some part of her anatomy in an attempt at seduction.

Hugh stretched across his bunk and stared off into space. He remembered when he had first seen Jane on the boat, smiling, rosy-cheeked and alive, swinging her shapely bottom. The sight of her, youthful, energetic, made him all too aware of himself, made him regret all his lost years.

With a sigh he got up, undressed and donned the bottom of his pajamas. Then knuckles rapped on the door and Jane stepped into his cabin.

"Hello, Hugh!"

"Ah, now come on, little girl! I told your father no, so what in hell're you doing here?"

"If you can't dance with me in there, then you can dance with me here. The music's loud enough for us to hear."

He stared at the tall girl, almost as tall as he, whose beauty was flawless. The sight of her partly hidden breasts excited him, creating both temptation and shame. Rationally he told himself that she was not a shy girl eager to make friends, but a young strumpet whose tightly belted dress emphasized her blooming body.

"I have an idea of what you want, young lady, and it is no deal. I just left a load of trouble behind me and I'm not looking for more."

"You're dying to sleep with me, Hugh. I know it and you know it, but you're afraid. Of what? Making me pregnant? I take the pill!"

"You've said enough for the time being." Hugh's fingers curled around the door knob. "Take a walk."

"Wait!"

Surprised, he sought her eyes for an answer, but they were half-closed and the innocent face was now filled with depravity.

She kicked off the shoes that had created so much height and, bare-footed, whirled around as if on a turning pedestal, to show her voluptuous torso, so youthful and superbly proportioned.

"Look! Your parents. ..."

"See these!" Her fingers fumbled with the brassiere catch and the exuberant breasts burst free, melon - shaped and upright. Hugh's breathing was labored and his legs shook.

The girl was a vivacious creature, her expression now not lewd but beatific, her body alluring. And those breasts, high-set, closely spaced; their aureoles and ripe tips were a shade of pink.

"You ..." Hugh licked his dry lips and swallowed. "You've got me going, but ... I've never handled a virgin before."

A provocative smile played on her lips. "Who says I am a virgin?"

She grasped his arms and pulled him flush against the hot mass of her bared breasts and belly. The first kiss was strong, her swiftly moving tongue wiping all resistance from his soul.

When they broke free he buried his face in the wealth of her long, russet hair, filling his nostrils with the clean and intoxicating scent.

"We'll have to be quick. I don't want your father bursting in upon us."
Her hands roamed over his bare shoulders. "Lock the door and don't open it for anyone."

He obeyed, watching her roll the silken panties down over the protruding rounds of her spectacular backside. She strolled toward the bunk, the flimsy undergarment dangling from her finger.

When they were together, kissing and squirming in the narrow bunk, the girl's hand move toward his penis, tugging it in the right direction.

She had such a light yet torturous touch! He pressed his chest into her bunched-together breasts. His parted lips brushed her smooth cheek and worked lower around to her red mouth. Her eyes closed as they kissed, and she continued to thrill him with the hot taste of her slippery tongue.

The girl's thumb pressed against the tip of his manhood and her fingers slid along its length down to the outline of his balls. She titillated his privates by firmly clasping and then releasing the shaft.

At last she leaned back, misty-eyed, her position now enhancing the spherical shape and size of her pink-tipped pillows. He rose up, putting his weight on his knees while her thighs opened wider, then came slapping against his legs. He was staring down at the big ball of fur that was at the summit of those long thighs.

Then - he bent down, offering her cunnilingus, shoving his head between the parted thighs, shooting his tongue past the vaginal lips into the sensuous area. His tongue slid in and out and her hips began to respond to the thrilling action. When his tongue rhythm quickened, causing her to reach the danger point, she dug her hands into his hair and jerked her shoulders.

Silently, not saying one word, the girl had her pleasure. As he straightened up she gasped and shivered. "Ahhhh, aaaaaaa!"

This girl is on fire, he told himself, really blazing hot!

She let out a groan as he entered her and rose up, stiffening the muscles in her buttocks. She sank back into the bunk, but again rose so swiftly that part of him, all coated with her cream, emerged from the sheath.

"Ooooo, oooo, oooo!" Jane was wrestling as if trying to get the heavy, hard penis out of her. Her shapely behind, rotating like all hell, pushed up at him, carrying him high.

He grabbed at that crazy behind, holding the firm cheeks securely and burying his penis even deeper, making certain that it was in her to remain until his orgasm. Her vagina certainly was trained for it, was doing all sorts of wild things to his joint, the walls contracting, the clitoris hardening.

And young Jane came! The tight lips of her vagina gripped his rigid staff, even hurting it a bit. She writhed in his arms, the silken-skinned, round as feeling pliable in his palms. But he thrust harder into her and pulled her body up to meet his descent.

"Ohh, my dearest, my darling. It is heaven, it gives me so much pleasure, oooo, I adore it!"

Her body slammed up again ... and again ... and again.

The last of the orgasm drained out, but Jane close her eyes, lay back weakly, then started to move once hore, her breasts and belly rolling. He could feel air swirl about him as she opened her trembling thighs wider. Then she snapped them together again and arched.

"Within the next few minutes, darling ... you will have to come.., do you hear me? I cannot keep this up! Ohhhh!"

The girl's rear end, ever so solid yet quite resilient, pumped furiously under him. Her desires, stirred beyond all belief, caused her lovemaking to become ferocious and she bounded up eagerly, wishing that there was more of his hardness to take.

His fingers went to trace the curving line of her body. He became acquainted with the undulating hips, the shivering belly, the blooming breasts, and last of all the revolving buttocks.

"Ahhh, Jane, Jane, Jane!" His penis jabbed in and out of the moist warmth, causing the various currents of lust to course through her.

The girl screamed. The cords in her neck stretched tight as her body once more bucked in orgasm. "Noooo, oh no, Hugh, no, no!"

Her torso twisted and turned. Yet even as she screamed she was still screwing under him, still a participant in the game, swinging her ass up at him while he forced her back.

"Girlie ... I am going to ... explode!"

"Hold off, hold off!"

She was fighting for more orgasms, forcing him to feed it to her harder. There was a determined strength in her arms as she clung to him, rising swifter now, grinding her rump more rapidly.

Hugh knew at the rate the girl was going that he had to climax, and now! His mind swiftly went toward other matters, mathematical equations, the constant war in the Middle East, the fall of the dollar on the European market, the type of house he might one day live in.

"Yeeeeoooow! Oh, how you can last ... how you control yourself ... how you outscrew me!"

"Girlie, I can screw the tail off you!"

"Don't I ... know ... it!"

"Yeaaahhhhh!"

"Oooo I am tired ... ahhh, I can not keep on circling my ass like this ... to ... make you ... come!"

His passion grew, his penis enlarged, his bails be-came swollen, and suddenly there was not much time left, not much time at all. She was hopping up like a horse and he was riding her, but that damned behind of hers, so lovely, so bitable, would not cease revolving.

Jane bent her back, carrying him up, not caring that his hard-tipped penis struck her thoroughly, so that her flesh was impaled to it. He had her breasts and was digging his fingers into them, but she did not care, she welcomed everything.

Hugh was coming! She could tell from the look in his eyes, the look of a madman, and she gasped when she felt it happening. There were his gasps, his shouts, and a lot of come, so creamy, so boiling hot, a full litre of it pouring into her.

"Uggghhhh!" He groaned, releasing her breasts, and went stiff, falling altogether limp.

But in that moment Jane's release was gained. As she went back her lovely mouth twisted into 'an ugly shape and she gurgled. Her bottom, flattening on the bed, heaved for the last time.

Hugh was much too tired to move, much too weak to pull what was left of his strength out. Like that, he slept atop her, and as he snored his instrument, still dripping, fell out of the wet opening, splattering stuff on her thighs and on the bunk. She too was asleep, and so his weight did not matter.

Her parents found them like that, the following morning when the boat pulled into the harbor of Cannes and ended the voyage. There were shouts and cries, with Jane being slapped about by both her mother and father. Fat Baldwin shook his fist in Hugh's face and threatened him with the police.

"My daughter is well past the age of consent, but that doesn't mean you are free to sleep with her, you scoundrel."

The Captain of the ship, a Frenchman wise in the ways of these matters, was summoned. He looked at the two naked people and at the enraged parents and sighed, bored, because it was an old story.

"It is love, madame et monsieur, pure love and nothing, neither man nor God, can stop love."

"She's my daughter!"

"Oui, but now she has a lover." The Captain was eager to be away and see to the unloading of his vessel.

"Get the police!"

"The gendarmes, I fear, shall do nothing. A man in love breaks no laws. Perhaps, they wish to make their love legal and lasting."

"That's it, you bastard, you'll have to marry poor Jane!" Baldwin shouted into Hugh's face.

The mother, a big woman with a tremendous bust and a backside like two boulders stuck together, agreed. "Using her previously untouched body like any whore's. My daughter!"

Jane squealed and leaped up and down, her breasts bouncing, and wrapped her arms about Hugh's neck. "Ohh, I just know he will make a wonderful husband!"

The Captain thought that perhaps the fellow was lucky after all. Such an exciting looking girl, that flamboyant figure, those opulent breasts, that sinuous derriere. Ahh, she was an Aphrodite, possessing all the beauty any girl needed.

"Congratulations, monsieur! And now I must leave you all." He shook Hugh's hand and left.

Hugh stood there, his mouth wide open, his hand still hurting from the Captain's hard grip. "God above, what is happening to me?"



Chapter 6

He rented a house in Juan-les-Pins, a large unpainted, badly furnished place, because Mrs. Baldwin insisted upon it. There they lived, the father in one room, the mother in the best room and Hugh squeezed together with Jane in a tiny bedroom. Within three days he thought he was a perfect candidate for the lunatic asylum. Daily, almost on the hour, the parents questioned him about his background and finances. When it was discovered that he was wealthy, the invisible chains the parents had wrapped about Hugh tightened.

A wealthy son-in-law! Who could ask for anything more? Baldwin even talked about expanding his used-car business, opening branches throughout London, while the mother discussed the purchase of a country house where they all might live, somewhere in the region of Reigate. Jane constantly nagged that she wished to be taken to Cannes where there were costly jewelers catering to the rich, so that she might select an engagement ring.

Although she and Hugh slept in the same bed, he was unable to work up any enthusiasm for her luscious body, or for her, for that matter. He only knew he was caught in a terrible trap.

Jane certainly was not as innocent as she pretended, and he was inclined to believe that he was just one man of many in her experience. Come to think of it, her parents had tried to force them together on the boat. Perhaps this was all a prearranged thing with the Baidwins setting out on that cruise to find Jane a husband.

Three days in the hot sun browned her, darkening the snowy complexion, making her breasts appear more erotic, and her supple hips take on an exciting sheen. But he would look at that fabulous body, so burnished, at the russet hair tumbling about her shoulders, at her fine-featured face with its beguiling eyes, classic nose and dimpled chin and turn away, knowing he was looking at a female devil.

He had to get away.

There were advertisements in the newspapers, asking for ditch-diggers, truck drivers, chauffeurs, waiters, and he considered that this might be a way to escape. He had come here to work, not to screw around with some silly bitch and get engaged.

The small summer resort was too crowded and the sun created an atmosphere that was like a fire. It pasted an unbelievable heat upon the cottages and villas and white-washed buildings, as if a boiling paint had been smeared on. To escape, most tourists wearing the new-styled string bikinis fled into the azure waters, remaining there for hours. Hugh was much too upset to go swimming, but the Baidwins and their bewitching daughter spent most of the day there.

Hugh would walk through the small village, past dwellings of baked brick, up cobblestone roads and down unpaved dirt streets. Like a tourist he looked at monuments and churches and the different stores, feeling he had never sweated before in his life like this. Man, it was hot!

He wore only sandals and jeans and a cotton, short-sleeved shirt, but light as these garments were his sweat seeped through and they stuck to his back as if glued.

Beautiful girls were everywhere. Sometimes they were too heavy but still curvy and exciting; others were tall and full-bodied, some maddeningly slender and shapely, others short but with well-contoured busts and buttocks.

But Hugh wanted no woman. He was stunned by the situation he was involved in, surprised by his easy acceptance of it. It was blackmail and the Baldwin's were forcing his hand.

Lack of sleep left him shaking, and he walked about totally confused. He spoke excellent French, but the language seemed too strange, as if he had never heard it before.

Near the small railroad station he sat in a café, considering the promise he had made to himself to find work. An Arab came by, annoying him, trying to sell transistor radios. A youth offered French-made shoes. A girl shoved a newspaper under his nose, reminding him that 'he must keep up with the situation in the world today, so buy one, s'll vous plaît.

As he sat there the whores parked at other tables took an interest in him, eyeing him like the vultures they were, ready to pick his pockets. The waiters also watched, one sneering as he picked his nose and wiped the findings on the doorframe, the other picking his teeth and spitting out the results.

It was too squalid here, almost dirty, in one of the world's most expensive areas, and he had no desire to remain. Hugh picked himself up and drifted back down toward the house, determined to have it out with the Baldwin's. Beautiful as Jane was, he had no intention of being forced into an unwanted marriage.

Halfway there a plan came to him. Fighting the Baldwin's would tip them of to his move. Better to just walk out, without warning, leaving them to wonder about his destination. Sure, that was the best idea, and when the real estate agent came for the rent, because after all he had just left a small deposit, the Baldwin's would have to pay the bill. They used up gas, electricity and water without consideration even though it was all extra. Let them worry now about the payment.

Along the main street there was noise created by music, men and machines. Scooters raced along with snarling rear - engined Volkswagens, roaring Fiats, pounding Cadillac or Lincoln limousines, and just about every bicycle turned out by the factory. He listened to brakes squealing, to shouts of joy or anger, to rapid conversations, children screaming and the music, the endless music from hand-carried or car radios. People here, it appeared, lived for music.

A half-naked girl caught his eye, a thrilling beauty with burnished wet hair clinging to her browned neck and shoulders and eyes that shone like polished coins. Her bikini top was a joke, showing ninety percent of her tits, which were unbelievably round and more than a handful. Her crotch was covered, although many pubic hairs escaped to tantalize passing males, and this part of the bikini, actually smaller than a handkerchief, was held up by a string encircling her waist. The law would state that she wore a bathing costume, but most would agree that this dream of a girl was naked.

"Don't you recognize your own woman?"

He came to with a start, shocked to see that all along he had been admiring Jane. "You! What are you wearing?"

"A Brazilian bikini. I just bought it. Lovely, isn't it?" She pivoted on her toes, not caring that men and women passing by stopped to take in the awesome sight of her browned, fruit-shaped behind.

Jane took his arm, chattering all the way to the house like a parrot who had been taught a full set of words. Most of it had to do with his lack of interest in sex.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Well, don't I appeal to you anymore?"

"You're beautiful. All the men look at you."

"I am not interested in all the men; I'm interested in you. Honestly, Hugh, that time on the ship you made love to me like a sex-starved man just let out of prison. But these past few nights you've let me alone. Is it because my parents are nearby?"

"Something like that."

"Come on, we are engaged. They know what a man and woman alone in a bed together do. I need my loving."

He managed to change the subject by remarking on the heat, and when her parents were met he was temporarily reprieved. But that night after dinner in an expensive restaurant with Hugh paying the bill, naturally, Jane started in again.

"Wait until I get you in bed tonight," she whispered in his ear.

"I do not want to sleep with you."

Her mother, reading, looked up; her father, watching sports on the rented television set, also looked up. Jane donned a false smile for their benefit, but there was no mirth in her eyes. They waited for Hugh's explanation, but he marched directly into the bedroom, undressed and slipped between the sheets.

One hour later she came into the bedroom. The table lamp was snapped on and she removed her clothing, flaunting her breasts before him. What was all this in aid of? Was she determined to arouse him with the body he no longer desired?
She switched off the light and got into the bed. But she kept away from him, sleeping almost on the edge. Now and then he heard her muttering, calling him a dirty son of a bitch.

Some time later, during the night, when all was quiet, the two people shifting about and changing positions found themselves close together, too close for normal comfort. He felt the nipples of her breasts tickling the hairs on his chest. His penis, curled in softness, pressed against her thigh.

"Do you know you are a rat?" she murmured.

He wanted to turn over, get as far away from her as he could, but his hands itched to grasp her lovely breasts. No, he warned himself, one screw will only end the distance I have placed between us and prevent my escape.

He did not answer her.

Jane's breath was warm against his face and he could feel the nipples hardening. "Did you hear me, you bastard?"

"Leave me alone, will you," he said. "I am tired and I want to sleep."

But even as the words left his mouth his penis had reacted and was straightening out, lengthening, becoming a stick that rested on her firm thigh. Her fingers were drawn to it and a fondling started. She shaped it, rolling the tip between her thumb and forefinger.

"I am still angry with you but I need this, so give it to me."

He was gone, grabbed by lust; he played with her young vagina, tickled the growth of pubic hairs and the pouting lips. She wanted him to put his head there and he did, without offering any arguments, licking the prominent clitoris, feeling it harden, and knowing as the bed sheets twisted that the girl's beautiful ass was revolving.

"You're trapping me, Jane, trying to ruin my life, but oohhh, am I wild for you now!"

His head went between her long, curving thighs and his nose rested in the soft downy hair. He flattened his hands on her out-thrust hips and did his work, licking her privates clean, shooting his tongue into the soft cave. As he expected she soon became insane and her fingers threaded into his hair to hold him securely.

Some noises left her mouth as the climax built up. She called his name, jerked spasmodically, went completely stiff and climaxed. "Ahhhhhh, ooooooh, you ... yes you ... dirty man ... eating me like that! Aaaaaa!"

Hugh thought that there were fires burning under her skin, for she was terribly hot, as if she had lain out in the heat of the Sahara Desert and her pussy was steaming. The water coming out of that opening was boiling. But he brought her through another orgasm and rose up, satisfied that he was a man who had done a damned good job of cunnilingus.

"I thought I was going to die ... I thought I should not live anymore. Oooo, don't fight with me, don't fight with me again, just bang me always."

"I am going to bang you now."

"Please! O please, please!"

"There is more to this game, so just relax for a bit."

He pushed her back, holding her until she was still, and swiftly pushed his face against her long, extremely rounded thighs. Her magnificent behind bounced as his tongue found the little button and dabbed at it. The clitoris, thus laved, grew, and again the vaginal lips parted. A drop more secretion oozed out and the girl, truly tired, started to gasp and roll all over the bed.

"Aaaahhhh, no! Oooooo, no! One moment, that's all I ask ... ooooo stop, stop!" The orgasm tossed her about, possessing her like a narcotic, making her gasp and beat the bed and twist from side to side.

He got to his knees, looking down at the poor tortured creature, so ruined by cunnilingus. so near the verge of insanity. He seized his hard penis and aimed it at the slit he had just devoured.

On target! The instrument was engulfed in her boiling vagina, penetrated deeply despite the tightness that followed the orgasm. A deep push and he gained more ground. He seized her breasts and squeezed them as he leaned his weight atop her.

"Ahhh, all right, now I am giving it back to you!"

The girl moved even though she said she was fatigued. Her rump heaved against his downward motions, convulsing and twisting, her body arching violently under his. She started to shriek from agony and call for help.

"Quiet, girlie! Your parents!"

"Noooooo!"

He rode her in earnest, not caring that her body was awash with perspiration, dripping out of every pore, making her difficult to hold.

"I am tired now, darling. Oh! Oh! I do not think I can keep this up all night. One was all I wanted, one orgasm, not one hundred! Oh ... ah - rrrrr - please stop it! Ahhh, my man, my strong man, stop!"

"Don't you want me to have pleasure too?"

Then come, man, come!"

The harder he tried the more elusive was his climax. He held tightly to her twisting buttocks and kept on with his vigorous strokes, keeping up a rhythm that should have been banned by any government concerned with sex.

"I ... might. ..just ... make ... it!"

"Man, make it for heaven's sake! Ahhh, pity me, pity me! I am going to die in this bed!"

His lusts were suffocating but this young girl was too much to handle. It was difficult due to the manner of her agonizing twisting and writing. That marvelous body was soaking wet and too slippery.

Ahhh, damn it, damn it! As he drove between her thighs he told himself that he had to come! It was time for him to be sleeping so that he could rise early on the morrow and hunt for work and not thrust any more into this hot hole.

"Girlie ... you do not know how I am trying."

"Ahhhhhhh, man, man! I am going to come again."

Her juicy young quim was wounded and her bottom became red. But she thrust her trembling legs up, heaving to meet each of his thrusts, gluing her loins to his, her rapid actions spurring him on.

His plunges were swift in his determination to arrive at the apex of glory. But she was the one who climaxed. Her vagina tightened deliciously around his hard tool until the skin was almost peeled off. He twisted his face from the hurt as that tight organ of hers contracted, the walls pressing against his bar.

And at last he came! The sensations of delight and pleasure derived from an orgasm left him worn-out, exhausted. And, still inserted in the girl, he lay on top of her, his face resting in her russet hair, his heart hammering.

"Get up!"

"I can't, I just can't."

"Man, do you think I intend to sleep like this the rest of the night, with your heavy weight pressing me down?"

"Can't you wait until I recover?"

"I've had more orgasms than you and I have recovered, so come on now." She gave him a nudge. "Besides, having your thing in me can get me excited all over again."

Oh, no, oh, no! Another round of sex was something he could not manage. Swiftly, Hugh pulled his penis out. A moment later he was snoring.



Chapter 7

Once was not enough as far as Jane was concerned, and the night was not for sleeping but fornicating. At the hour when the sun was just climbing over the horizon she tackled Hugh again, grasping his manhood, squeezing and jerking it into stiffness. She whispered in his ear what she wished. His genitals were alive and burning but his mind was groggy. "Huh? Now?"

"Yes." She ran her tongue under his ear. "You are hard enough."

The matter was taken out of his hands so he sort of absently fingered the crotch that was already dripping wet. He felt the bed bounce and dip first on one side, then the other, as she contorted herself; and suddenly he was jolted. The bitch had slammed her ass right into his face, double-punching him with the thrusting cheeks.

Hugh blinked, his lashes batting against the smooth, hot-fleshed balls. He felt the wet bulge of hair brush against his chin. The odor flowing into his nostrils burned and he had to palm the cheeks, ease them away. In that moment his instrument was engulfed by hot wetness and her slurping tongue curled right around the base, cutting off the upward flow of blood.

Sixty-nining at six in the morning!

Her teeth could scrape and nip, her tongue pm-pointed certain zones accurately and his knob was by turns flooded in saliva and wiped dry. Hugh did his share, treating the female parts like dessert. Ravenously he ate the girl's pussy, feeling as he nibbled at the clitoris her balled ass gyrating in his f ace.

Jane moaned, feeling the conception of an orgasm. His tongue wallowing in her opening further developed the climax. She raised her head to catch some air, threw back her hair, gasped and bent, squashing her breasts against his thighs as she resumed devouring his organ. Her weight had been on her knees, but now she shoved them back, working her thighs along his shoulders and locking her ankles, trapping his head.

She was going to give birth to the orgasm and she sucked and licked on the candied bar, wetting just the base, wiping it clean, nibbling the length, drying that off with the back of her tongue, then rolling the balled top along her teeth.

"ARGHHH!" His climax was sudden, unexpected, and he ejaculated. The first spurts splattered burningly against the roof of the girl's mouth, but, undeterred, she coaxed the rest of the juice out. Moaning, Jane milked the shaft, keeping the bubbling cream in one corner of her mouth.

Jane released the taut tool, spat the stuff out, caught her breath and came! "NOOOooooo!"

Hugh increased the tempo of his tongue flicks, tapping in steady rhythm on the little clitoris while the twin balls shuddered and rotated against his face. Her wetness dribbled down his chin for fully thirty seconds. When he leaned back for air it coagulated in a sticky mass.

The girl, ever active due to youth, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Now let's go at it properly."

"Properly! Let me get some rest, you damned nympho! Wasn't last night enough for you? Man!"

They breakfasted at a café rather than at home because Mrs. Baldwin was not up to cooking. "I'm worn out from lack of sleep. You two and all that screaming the entire night!"

Baldwin, sipping his café au lait like a dog slurping soup, agreed. "You're a randy cock, m'lad. All that sex. Our daughter is a human being, after all."

Jane grinned but remained silent, her lovely eyes dancing merrily. But Hugh was surprised by their reaction. Why take him to task when their precious daughter had started it? "Look, maybe if you just leave the two of us alone well survive without any difficulty. I am not a young boy and Jane is not a child either."

Mrs. Baldwin looked horrified. "Are you suggesting that we leave this town?"

"Exactly. Stay here if you want but rent your own place. Look. I didn't bargain for this set-up. I went off on a cruise from England to the Riviera alone simply because I wanted to be alone."

"Then," Baldwin slurped a little more coffee, "you should have left your hands off my daughter, my lad."

There was no arguing with these types. They saw a good thing in him and were not letting go. The girl was beautiful and she was being used as a meal ticket, a means of securing their futures. If it had not been him their eyes would be searching for some other young guy with more money than he could handle.

Hugh had no taste for breakfast, not with these two, dressed real touristy in striped Basque shirts, cotton shorts and rope-soled shoes. Mrs. Baldwin had varicose veins on her wobbly thighs and Baldwin had toothpicks for legs, but they both displayed that part of their anatomy, horrible as it was.

Before them was a parade of tourists, American women in fur jackets and tight-fitting slacks, bald-headed men carrying cameras, and homosexuals from the four corners of the earth, their wrists laden with jeweled watches and gold bracelets, each dragging a poodle on a leash.

Hugh viewed the entire mob with hatred. He was annoyed with himself, annoyed not only because he was railroaded into an engagement he did not want, but also because he took so much trouble from this trio and - worse yet - paid for it!

He sat there, tense, attempting to restrain himself, feeling the urge to lash out with his fists and knock the three of them, man, woman and beautiful daughter, cold.

Mrs. Baldwin swallowed a mouthful of coffee and grimaced. "Ohh, it is sooo strong it went right down to the pit of my stomach." She fastened her blood-shot eyes on a tall, peroxide-blond boy who was dragging a huge white poodle along. "Just look at that boy, worse than a woman. And can you smell him! Stinks like a cheap whore!"

The boy, his bleached hair flying in the breeze as he turned, fixed the entire table with a baleful look. Hugh spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Careful, he heard you."

"Damned queer!" Baldwin snorted and stared at the boy. "If he comes over here to start anything you rap him hard in the mouth, Hugh."

"Don't count on that. I just don't get into fistfights for no reason."

Mrs. Baldwin made a rude noise with her lips. "Our daughter, Jane, sitting here, and you wouldn't fight for her? What sort of a man are you?"

"You are being damned ridiculous and now I'm getting more than a little tired of your shit."

"Apologize at once to my wife!" Baldwin was leaning over the table, shaking his fist.

"Take it easy, fatso. Everyone in this café is looking at us."

"I don't give a damn. I demand your apologies immediately."

"Ahh, sit down, you fat pig!"

Jane apparently delighted in controversy and was smiling steadily, looking from one face to another, hoping the argument would continue.

Baldwin's face was the color of a tomato. He shook his fat finger in Hugh's face. "Find a girl like our Jane, my lad, try to find her on the streets of this dirty French town. Can't be done. She is a jewel, a rare jewel, and we are not willing to let just any man have her. Consider yourself lucky. So instead of spouting your vulgar words just be thankful we are taking you into the family."

Hugh clenched his fists and looked away. This was all so unreal that he felt like a spectator in a theater watching someone else portray him. Never before had he become so involved with such types. Never.

The one thing he had prided himself on was the easy avoidance of bad situations. He was a self-made man who could stand on his own two feet.

"You know," Mrs. Baldwin changed the subject, "I think I should like a dog, perhaps a poodle."

"Yeah," sneered Hugh, "your fat husband can dye what's left of his hair yellow and then he can look like those queens sauntering along. Why not a jeweled wrist watch and a gold slave bracelet to complete the picture?"

He got up and left the table before they could answer, going into the interior of the café. Here it was dark and cool and the waiter was leaning against the zinc counter engrossed. in conversation with the bartender. Upon Hugh's approach they ceased talking and began to appraise him.

Jealousy, he knew. They view that marvelously constructed young girl out there and hate me for screwing her. She is a rarity, but she's also trouble, and getting into her body is like stepping into a prison cell. I'll be trapped for life.

A news vendor was selling papers. Sizing Hugh up as a tourist he waved a copy of the international edition of the Herald Tribune under his nose. Hugh paid and at once scanned the help - wanted columns. He ran his finger down the list, pausing to read a request for an English-speaking chauffeur. There was no mention of salary, only a number to be called.

Outside the Baldwin's sat, waiting for his return. They glared in unison, the woman trying to get the words out, but the man succeeding. "Your behavior this morning has been abominable. Not only did you cause our poor daughter to scream last night but now you insult us without any care. Pay the bill and let's get back to the house. We have some talking to do, my lad."

It was the last straw. Without thinking, without considering the people in the café or his awkward position, Hugh drew back his fist and threw it across the table.

It was a good punch, catching Baldwin right on the chin and sending the fat man sprawling.

"Ow!" Baldwin sat on his backside, legs stuck out at crazy angles, yelling his head off. The waiter and several customers came running, but no one, not even his wife, made a move to assist him.

"Call the police, call the police!" He began to scream and strike the ground with his clenched fists.

Hugh looked down at him and walked out of the café. He went straight to the small villa, packed his suitcase and marched into another café, where he made a telephone call.

He asked for the party who had placed the ad in the morning's Tribune. A girl got on the wire and told Hugh to come up to an apartment building called the Beaux Arts, situated just off the beach, at his convenience.

He knew the building, a squat, two-storied place not far from one of the luxurious hotels. Saying that he was free to be interviewed at any time he asked if he could come over now. The girl agreed.

His bag was left at the café and, squaring his shoulders, Hugh went off for what was to be his first interview in years. He tried to pretend he was one of the world's unemployed, tried to put himself in the position of a man seeking work. How should he act? Meek, servile or self-assured?

He wasn't so filled with confidence; the encounter with the Baldwin's had proved that he could be easily intimidated. But still he had to make a try, and this was the first.



Chapter 8

The entire fiat was dimly lighted, the shutters bolted tightly against the invading sun. The odor of freshly cut flowers was everywhere, mingling with the strong scent of a woman's perfume. Hugh stood in the drawing room, hands in his pockets, surveying the fin-de-siècle furnishings.

To one side stood the maid, a tall, reddish-haired girl dressed in a black outfit; she had spoken to him on the telephone. While pretty, in fact almost beautiful, her face was a mask, not a muscle moving. Near her, before an enormous desk, the top of which was filled with bronze and china statuettes, sat a man who introduced himself as Maurier. He was tall, slender, cruel-featured, with a haircut that was out of fashion, much too short. As he spoke his long thin fingers played with one of the glass figurines. Somehow Hugh found it easy to picture this man in the uniform of an army officer.

"According to this résumé of your talents I would think that being a chauffeur would be far beneath you." Maurier tapped the application form Hugh had filled out.

Hugh sighed and looked down at the polished parquet floor. "I've worked in high positions and low positions."

"Never as a chauffeur."

"I know cars."

"As a racing driver, perhaps. There is a large difference."

"Mr. Maurier, I applied for this job because I need it."

Maurier pursed his thin lips. "I am certain I have seen you before. Seems there was a playboy I ran across.., resembled you."

This was just a waste of time and he did not have to put up with this man's nonsense. "Mr. Maurier, do you need a chauffeur?"

"Do not be sensitive. I must ask questions. I just cannot take people into my employ like that." He snapped his fingers. "All right, do you possess an international driver's permit?"

Hugh brought out his wallet, removed his various licenses and started forward. The maid anticipated his movements and, intercepting him, reached for the papers. She handed them to her employer who glanced briefly, almost disinterestedly at them.

"Right. You will drive a Mercedes Benz. A new one, I might add, so I would not like to see any scratches or dents on it. It is to be dusted daily, washed every three days, and polished every two weeks."

The man not only wanted a chauffeur but a carwash attendant as well, but he did not say one word about salary.

Maurier read his mind. "I shall pay you one thousand two hundred francs a month and. of course, your food and lodgings are free."

Hugh nodded. A job was a job. What else could he say?

Maurier spoke to the maid. "Show him the car and take him to the tailor to be fitted for the uniform."

The girl nodded and told Hugh to follow her. They went out into the garden and down a path to the garage. At no time did she attempt any conversation. Hugh, occasionally stealing a glance at her, saw that the redhead possessed a magnificent body.

She led him to the garage, weaving her way through automobiles of various sizes and makes to stop before a huge Mercedes Benz 2805E. It was black with white leather and apparently new.

"How old is this car?"

"Less than one month so you better be careful with it." She opened a door and pointed at the ignition key resting in the switch. "Will you test it?"

"No, lam familiar with these models. It will be no problem at all."

Now a tall man, young, heavily built, with thick curling hair and a face streaked with oil stepped out of the inner depths of the garage. He nodded at the maid and spoke to Hugh.

"New chauffeur, eh?"

"Yes."

The man snickered. "Poor fellow."

"Why?"

"The things that are going to happen to you, that's why."

The maid yelled "Keep your dirty mouth closed."

The garage mechanic shouted at her in a language which Hugh recognized as Italian.

"Hey, what is this all about?"

"She knows, this girl" The mechanic was angry as he spoke. "Tell that bastard, your new boss, to haul this Mercedes out of here by tonight or we'll push it out onto the street. You know, you might be a good sort, so I am going to give you some advice."

"Shut up, you pig." The maid's eyes were narrowed, her fists tightly clenched and her rounded bosom heaving. 'This pig attempted to force himself on me and when I refused he spread filthy rumors."

"Rumors!" The mechanic pointed to the rear of the garage. "Twice I had you back there. Once in the back seat of an old car and once on the floor. Your bottom got all dirty."

"Liar!" Her reply was somewhat half-hearted and Hugh began to believe the mechanic.

"She was so fed up with that Maurier," the mechanic explained, "that she was glad of the opportunity to have a real man, even though I am generally evil-smelling and dirty."

The girl fled from the garage.

Hugh looked after her and shrugged his shoulders. "Not my business what you two did. She's a beauty and going after her for a screw is to be expected."

"Do you need a job that badly or are you one of them?"

"One of what?"

"One of those immoral types like Maurier."

"Look, friend, whatever difficulties you're having with my new boss is not my affair." He started to walk out of the garage.

The man yelled after him: "Get this car out by nightfall if you don't want it wrecked."

In the street the maid was waiting. She gave him the name of a tailoring establishment adding, 'They ouffit all chauffeurs so there should be a uniform in your size."

"Does the color make any difference? I don't want to wear something so ridiculous as white."

"Just make certain it's lightweight, for your own comfort." She paused, "Listen, that pig back there, do you believe him?"

"I told him it's none of my business."

"So you do believe him!"

"Ahh, hell, look, I just want to chauffeur a damned car."

Without a word the maid marched off. Hugh stood there watching her, his eves centering on her twisting buttocks, two lovely balls grinding beneath the thin fabric of her skirt. It did not make sense to him, a delicious, well-built girl like that throwing herself at the foul-mouthed mechanic. And all that talk about Maurier. It just did not make any sense.

He took a seat in a café directly across the way from Maurier's apartment building, reflecting on the worth of the job. Trouble was in the offing, and he wanted no part of it. But the alternative was to return to London and the lazy life. No other positions were available.

A waiter took his order, then shortly afterwards placed a glass of rosé before him. Hugh paid and raised the glass aloft, thinking, well, I am on my way.

The café was large, catering to all types, the rich, those who hoped to appear rich, and some indifferent souls, mostly young, who did not seem to care one way or another. They laughed, shouted, drank, smoked and listened to the sound of raucous rock coming from the speakers of the enormous jukebox.

Hugh glanced around, disinterested in the older people, surveying only the young boys and girls while his mind whirled with events of the past. His eyes fastened on a shapely brunette sitting by herself. A type similar to Jennifer.

The girl returned Hugh's gaze and slowly, almost deliberately, he knew, crossed her extremely long legs, giving him a flash of tanned thigh under the denim skirt.

He examined her, looking up from the luxurious legs with their round calves past the curved hips and slender waist to the full breasts. She was truly a dream, the sight of her making his breath catch in his throat.

The brunette looked in his eyes, smiled slowly and slid the tip of her tongue along her heavy lower lip. No more than nineteen years of age, he figured, and in another second she would be here.

Some women needed a neon sign to advertise their profession, but not this kid. She had plastered her well-developed teen-aged body with a tight blue shirt, and any man with a hundred francs in his pocket knew the score.

A whore. She had to be one.

Sorry, I can not accommodate you, baby, Hugh said to himself, I've got a man waiting for me and he has first crack at my time because he is holding the money.

He abruptly stood up, gave the dream girl a final look and left. Maybe chauffeuring won't be so bad, he hoped. At any rate that voluptuous maid will be around to make things more pleasant. With him on the scene she wouldn't have to run to garage mechanics for her pleasure.

With the uniform of his choice, a pale blue mohair, boxed and under his arm, Hugh left the tailor shop and strolled down the winding, cobble-stoned street, past a nightclub now shuttered, where he had once spent too much time and money. Those days are past, he knew, long past, and now I am a working stiff.

It would be strange to be in this town where he had played so hard, taking all the fun of a lifetime in a few weeks, working as a chauffeur. He wondered how many people with whom he had associated would see him.

Well, he would just look the other way, making them think they had confused him with someone else. Hugh, the renowned playboy, chauffeuring people about! Oh, no, it can't be him.

"Hello!"

"Huh!". It was the brunette from the café, the kid from the café leaning against a wall with her out-thrust hip. "What're you doing here?"

"I followed you. Don't you remember me?"

He looked at her, searching his memory, and shook his head. "Frankly, I don't. I saw you for the first time about a half-hour ago."

The girl smiled and mentioned the name of a man Hugh was acquainted with. "There was a big party here last year on his yacht. I was one of the girls invited."

"Wait a minute." He stared at her, recalling now a slender blonde he had spent the night with.

"It is me." She slapped a rounded thigh. "Of course I have added a little weight since then. After all, I am still a growing girl."

"Your hair. ..."

"Dyed. Straight out of the bottle. Now it's natural again. Looks much better this way, don't you think?"

"You must excuse me. Sometimes my memory is bad."

"You've had far too many girls, that's why."

"Yes, well ... " he did not know what else to say. "And you are back here now, on vacation?"

"I live here. You really don't have a memory. Don't you know What sort of work I do?"

He had guessed it back there in the café, but decency prevented him from saying he was well acquainted with her profession. "So there are no more parties, eh?"

"No. Money is tight, even in this part of the world. The yachts are still there but those who own them are not interested in girls like me. C'est la vie!"

"A shame. But, that's the way things go. Now I really must be getting along."

"Of course. With me." She took the boxed uniform from him and started off, presumably in the direction of her place.

In a daze he followed her, seeing how her rounded bottom, deliciously round and firm-looking, swung from side to side, each lovely cheek grinding away beneath the short denim skirt.

Man, she had not waited for his answer, had not even discussed a price, in fact. She was taking him for granted simply because she knew what men were like. Then he thought of the Baldwin's, that conniving trio, the fat bastard, his horrible wife and that beautiful but dangerous daughter. And Hugh hurried after the whore, determined to screw that terrific ass off her.

On the stairs she allowed him a fast feel because he was a buyer who rightfully should squeeze up the goods. But her apartment was an oven and he recoiled.

"Hot as hell inhere. Wow!"

"It always is, but let me open the windows and maybe some fresh air will clear the heat" She moved about like a ballerina, easy, happy, whistling, startling slender and proud.

He was trying to remember the past, remember a girl like this was straight out of a dream; but the past was too elusive.

Her smell came swimming in thick waves of perfume and woman's odor and hot apartment air, sweeping away everything presently troubling him, and Hugh knew that shortly her lovely body would be thrusting up, twisting in upward jerks, the rounded thighs wide apart, her wet mouth open, her pretty head rolling and her bottom making slow and wide circles.

He thought about it and was so exhilarated that the tingling in his loins made him too sharply aware of everything, of senses, of touch, of desire. Even before his manhood reached the state of erection he wanted desperately to be in the girl's body.

Some of the sun trickled feebly threw the closed windows, laying a partly white, partly yellow bar across the floor. Slowly he looked around the room at the badly papered walls, the cheap woven rug, the old chandelier, so art deco with but a single dusty bulb in the center, the hard stare of film star Charles Bronson on a poster covering part of the wall and, most of all, the strong odor of a woman in the hot air.

The space between these two people, the man who was fleeing trouble and a strange girl, perhaps a whore, was filled with passion as it fit was flowing from her body to his. He kept thinking she was like a dancer, strong, steel-sharp and supple, capable of all strength and smooth movement.

The windows were opened, a transistor radio switched on, the covers peeled back from her bed. The girl was ready for business. She had such a carefree manner, but he acted like a shocked parson, unable to accept the situation.

The girl opened her blouse and her breasts, bared, were dazzling, perfectly shaped like tanned gourds tipped by coral nipples. As she unhooked the skirt to reveal womanly thighs her red lips moved in warm phrases, murmuring about the yacht party and his performance as a lover.

"I still remember; you were fantastic." Her light eyes, as if fueled by lust, were melting.

He looked at her insinuating pose and' knew he ought to forget everything and abandon himself to passion for a few moments. His shoes went flying, his trousers dropped and then he was naked, his fingers stretching to grasp the sensuous breasts and roving thighs.

She held him off at first with three swift kisses and then was away, her hips writhing and her liberated buttocks rotating. "Oooh, someone I know is very excited."

The breasts were sizeable, but not the shape he had imagined. No sir, those things were fantastic! Uncovered, they were out-thrust, soaring in the air.

At once his manhood rose, blood rushing along it, swelling it to the proper portion. He leaned over her as she slid along the bed, smiling up at him. Her robust thighs were there for him to stroke, but when he attempted to part them she shook her head.

"Wait a bit." Fear of being chafed had the young brunette begging him to delay his entrance. "I am too dry inside, I think."

The only thing then was to pet and kiss and clutch each other in a hungry embrace. The girl twisted, teasing him, shifting her curved torso in such a manner that the balloons swung against his chest.

"You have marvelous breasts."

That is one thing I know. Lovely, aren't they?"

It was torture for him and the knob of his manhood trailed across her round, firmly fleshed thighs. She offered him her full mouth as his hands eagerly caressed the teen-aged curvaceous body.

"How could I have forgotten you?"

She was a dream, this girl, he kept telling himself. All silken and hard with that solid steel behind and those round, ripe breasts. Man, oh man, what an unbelievable body!

At last, after a long kiss, the girl gasped and told him she was ready. Her hand felt his pole, the fingers curled about it, the nails gouged the skin. She masturbated him slowly, to rid him of the first, hasty ejaculation.

"Then you shall be able to ride me well and for long."

"Stop that!" He pried her fingers away. "I am not a kid. Hell, girlie, I know how to control myself! You'll get your ride, and a long one it shall be."

"All right then, let us see."

A last hot passionate exchange of kisses, and his hands were traveling rapidly along her smooth shoulders, down to her slender waist, around to her buttocks, cupping the solid cheeks.

He pulled her closer and allowed her fingers to guide his joint between the slightly opened legs. He was only partially in when he heard her moan and felt the wetness of her slit on the tip of his penis.

"Ahhhhhhh"'

"What?"

"Sometimes ... sometimes it is this way. Ahhhhh!"' Already her backside was in action, those shapely tanned cheeks revolving. Then he angled his body cushioning his face in her quite overwhelming breasts, and bore down.

"Now!"

"Ooobhh, not so hard!"

There was a slushing sound as his tool, invading the narrow passageway, drove whatever juice was there out. Man, did it feel good as those vaginal lips closed over the root of his penis!

"Baby, you are not only tight but hot!" He lowered himself even more, going down into the well of her privates where the oils bubbled. Then he could dig no more. He was completely sheathed.

Now the fun starts!

He gripped her rear end, spreading the cheeks apart as he started to rise up a bit. "I should have remembered a girl with a body like yours."

"Yes, you should but ooooo!"

The girl, so resembling a student with her flowing brown locks, unblemished cheeks and round light eyes, sighed. She closed her mouth over his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the flesh.

"Ow!"

"Ahhh, sorry, sorry. But sometimes I do not consider this work and then ... I come! Often I feel nothing, no pleasure but you ... ahhh, eeeee! That thing of yours, it fits into me so well ... I know I shall come!"

She was talking on and on but he did not hear her. He was gone, completely out of this world, sent there by the writhing of her shapely young body.

Both of them now were in a savage state, uttering obscenities, working together, becoming halves of the same thing. A long kiss was held while she worked with her loins and he slid powerfully in and out of her.

The teenager climaxed first. She came, squealing like a pig racing around in the mud of a farm. He rode her all the more fiercely and as the first climax faded the second built up and she let out more squeals of raw, undiluted happiness.

"Move, move, girlie, because I am moving, do you hear?"

"I hear and ... ooohhh, I feel!"

He sent his shaft steadily into the velvety well, letting her know the full power, stretching the walls of her insides. She screamed and screamed and could not stop screaming.

Her soft lips were all over his face. Her mouth pecked at his ears, cheek, eyes, her wet quivering tongue rasping on his neck. When the final thrust approached he went into an awful stroke, giving it to her without let-up.

"There, there, the finish, baby, I am approaching the finish line, so take it!"

The brunette did take it. She had no other choice. She continued to buck in spasmodic release, curving her shapely torso, blending completely with him as he increased his rhythm. Then, out of control,, she hooked violently upon the waves of the last orgasm.

"NO! Noooo! Ohhhh, noooo!"

He was going to come, even as she was coming. His hands, holding the silken, high-rising buttocks, felt them clench and unclench. Then hot cream bathed his tool and trickled along both of her squirming thighs to the wrinkled bed.

Still squealing, she sent her long, round-calved legs up and around his waist to tighten the hold on him as he climaxed, shooting into her.

Hugh panted and jerked and convulsed and was finally stilled.

Afterwards he thought of his new job and realized that Maurier and the maid must have wondered what had happened to him. He left the bed, washed up at the basin and started to get into his clothing.

"I wish I could stay longer."

The girl smiled but kept her eyes closed. "It is all right. We may meet again some other time."

"Look, ahh ..." Now came the embarrassing part. "The one thing we did not discuss was price."

"I don't charge for a game I enjoy so much." She opened her eyes and began to laugh at him. "You took me for a professional and I am not. I broke up with my boy friend two days ago and since then I've had no one to sleep with."

"You're not. ..."

"A whore? No."

"Did I meet you last year, aboard a yacht?"

"You did, but we did not sleep together. You went off with a skinny blonde who resembles me somewhat. I fooled you all along."

There was a promise to meet again and a somewhat confused Hugh left the laughing, beautiful girl behind. He staggered along the street holding his uniform, thinking life was controlling him instead of the other way around.



Chapter 9

That evening Hugh sat in the kitchen dining on chicken and rice. The maid, who was named Claudia, sat opposite him. The two top buttons of her uniform were open and as she bent forward over her plate he could see the form of her breasts, round, milky white.

"My uniform fits perfectly," he said in an effort to draw the girl into conversation.

"Lucky for you it does."

"Why do you say that?"

Claudia pushed her plate away, reached for a package of cigarettes and stood up. "Because we are leaving here tomorrow and there would be no time for alterations."

"Where are we going?"

"Who knows? Tomorrow morning Mr. Maurier will let us know." She rested her full-fleshed behind against the sink. With her arms crossed over her breasts and the cigarette dangling from one corner of her wide, unrouged mouth she looked down at him. "Tell me, are you a straight man or what?"

He put down his fork and reached for his wine. The question did not surprise him because he had been expecting it. Undoubtedly any man who did not grab at her ass was queer in her estimation.

"How do you know you are not my type?"

"I am every normal man's type. With the body I have! Pah!"

He went on drinking. What a conceited bitch! The girl he'd had this afternoon was just as shapely. All right, this one had larger breasts, but so what?

Claudia said: "We have had quite a few chauffeurs; most of them were fairies."

"Did they get fired because they neglected to show you any attention?"

"No, not at all. You know how it is. Some lads crack up the car or have fights with the boss or steal things from him." She looked him straight in the eye. "You did not answer me. How about it, are you queer?"

"Take me to your room later on and you can find out for yourself."

Claudia snorted and unfolded her arms to cup her breasts. "These things are beautiful. If we ever do make love you'll see for yourself. Once they won me first prize in a beauty contest."

She began to massage the breasts she was so proud of, moving her palms over the globe-like mass them. "That bastard in. the garage, that mechanic knows what they are like. It's true, he did have me twice."

Hugh sneered. "I can hardly wait my turn. I took this job because of you."

"Tell me another joke."

"Where are you from, Claudia?"

"Down the lower part of Italy, near the Adriatic. Foggia. Why?"

"You're beautiful."

"Don't flatter me, friend, because I have nothing to give you. At least not so soon."

"No, I mean it, you're beautiful ... and you've got a mad body. But if you did win a beauty contest what in hell are you doing here working as a maid?"

"None of your business."

"Maybe you are as weird as that mechanic says Maurier is. How about it, girlie, what are Maurier's sex habits like?"

She smiled, showing a dazzling set of teeth. "That, my friend is for me to know and you to find out."

Claudia leaned forward, the action straining the fabric of her maid's costume almost to bursting point. Hugh was amazed by the rotundity of her breasts with the nipples penetrating almost haughtily.

"One thing, you don't have to wear brassiere."

The smile remained on her face while she began to clear the plates from the table. "How come you don't do something else down here, gigolo off the rich old women for example? You are as good looking as those lads here making a living from it."

"No, it's not a real man's game." He watched her as she stood before the sink, washing the dishes.

Her skirt, black and straight-fitting, left nothing to the imagination. It revealed a pair of buttocks of womanly width and roundness. And each time she leaned over the sink he saw the line of her panties and the white, luscious flesh of her long thighs.

"Don't just sit there looking, talk." She turned to gather the rest of the kitchen utensils and her generous breasts went quivering like two balls floating on a moving stream.

"Now it's easy to understand."

Claudia looked at him, a puzzled expression on her pretty face. "Understand what?"

"How those breasts won you first prize in a beauty contest."

She smiled. "Maybe I will be good to you, just one time."

Hugh rose and reached for her, but she avoided his grasp. "Why not?"

"No, not now."

"Then when?"

"Later. Later, when the boss is asleep."

Hugh's hands opened and closed as the desire, satisfied early that afternoon, gathered force and charged through his body. No matter what she thought of him he was going to take this big redheaded girl to bed. He was going to take her and satisfy her in such a way as to leave her gasping.

The entire apartment was quiet, the only sound that of alley cats prowling in the garden. Hugh sat in the small room assigned him and considered his lot in life. On a closet door directly before him hung the chauffeur's uniform that he would soon be wearing. It was a musical comedy costume, straight out of a Lehar operetta with epaulettes, brass buttons, pleated pockets and a leather belt.

All that was needed, he reflected, was a silver mounted revolver and holster and a couple of medals. Just as he decided to ready himself for bed came the knock on the door. Frowning, he opened it and found Claudia standing out there in the darkness. Well now, he did expect her to visit, but not so soon.

"May I come in?" she whispered.

Hugh, noting that she carried a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, nodded, admitting her. She set the bottle on the small night table, making room by moving the lamp to one side.

"Good stuff we are going to drink." He studied the label, seeing that it was twenty-one-year-old Ballantine's scotch.

"If the best is good enough for the boss, then it ought to be for us. No?"

"No argument from me, girlie."

She poured generous amounts into both glasses and handed his over. "Cheers."

It went down .smoothly but too quickly, bringing tears to his eyes, but Claudia swallowed her whiskey without flinching. "You know how to handle it, don't you?"

"'I should. I have worked often as a bar maid and in those places the customers always offer free drinks. I used to be drunk all the time, but after a while I got used to it."

She sat on the bed, leaving him to lean against the wall with a refilled glass while she began to tell him about her past.

Hugh saw no necessity for this and told her so. "I take people as they are, always from the present time. Your past is your business."

"It will help to explain the type of household you have taken employment in."

He shrugged, knowing that some people always have to have a good listener around. "Okay, go ahead."

Claudia was really a beautiful girl. She had long reddish hair that, when undone, flowed past her shoulders all the way down to the sculptured hips. Her eyes were hazel in color and slanted, her nose tilted and her mouth generous, the full lips a natural red. Her movements were always graceful and she knew how to dress well without displaying any of the vulgarity of coarse mannerisms of most low-class girls who made their way in life as house-maids.

On her days off Claudia would don silk dresses, wear earrings with false diamonds and smoke black Sobranie cigarettes through a delicately carved holder in the hope of creating an air of sophistication. But few people were taken in by this act.

Less than three months before Claudia had won first price in a beauty contest in her native village of Foggla. The judges and the audience had agreed that her face and figure were faultless. At one meter seventy-five she was perhaps too tall, but her carriage was splendid, her walk excellent, and her body amazing.

Some of the other contestants screamed at the decision. The judges put it down to pure envy and stood by their verdict. Claudia's buttocks were well-matched, they stated, and shapelier than country pears. Besides, the other breasts they had viewed fell, even if slightly, while hers thrust straight out.

Claudia knew that a body like hers had no place in Foggia. The next morning she said goodbye to her family and departed for Rome, a city where she would be thoroughly appreciated.

A little later she discovered to her shock that Rome was filled with girls of spectacular proportions. Her body was duplicated a dozen times along any street in that city.

When she was almost on the edge of starvation she took a job as a waitress in a dump on the Via Margutta. It was either that or taking to the streets. The latter was something Claudia wanted to postpone as long as possible.

One day as she stood behind the bar of the café a tall, slender and aristocratic foreigner entered. Almost immediately he began to pay attention to her and Claudia developed ideas. She had glimpsed the long black Mercedes Benz parked outside and sensed that the owner had more than his share of money.

The aristocratic man ordered scotch and stared at her as he drank. Claudia was somewhat apprehensive because the boss of the café, a fat, rough-faced man of sixty had advised her to pay a visit to the storeroom when the place closed. He wanted a chance at her body and Claudia, nervous because of the oncoming situation, worked with one eye on the clock and the other on the customers.

Well, she had mused, the boss has been after me ever since I was hired. She shrugged and looked down at her breasts. All those two things had done for her was to win her a chromium-plated statuette and get her into trouble. Not one man among all those she met in Rome could keep his hands off them. Worse, of the men she had gone with not one was an honest fellow. They were all liars who promised her roles m non-existent films. For instance the boy who had taken her virginity was too young to even sweep the floor of a film studio, much less produce a film, and yet she had fallen for his tale.

Someone yelled for a coffee and Claudia went over to the gleaming Gaggia machine. She adjusted the wooden knob, yanked on the lever and listened to the huge mechanism hiss and spurt.

The foreigner was eyeing her and when he beckoned Claudia asked if he wished another scotch. "No," he spoke rapidly. "My name is Maurier and in a few minutes I intend to drive out of Italy up to France, to the Riviera, to be exact, where I reside. You are far too beautiful to be working in a place of this sort."

"Ah hah, another film producer."

"Wrong. A successful businessman, and there is place for you in my employ."

Claudia's heart had leaped. "How much time do I have to decide?"

Maurier glanced at his gold wrist watch. "Five minutes. No more, no less."

Fat Alberto, the boss who yearned to sleep with her had yelled: "Claudia, you lazy thing. I am waiting for that order and not standing here to watch you flirt with foreign customers."

Claudia filled two small cups with espresso and placed them before Alberto. "You can go to hell with my permission."

"Bastal Enough, before I forget myself. Cosa che? What is the matter with you? Make sure you are m the storeroom promptly tonight. And when I come to you let there be fire in your heart and warmth in your loins."

"Figilo di putana!' Claudia rolled her apron into a bundle, tossed it on a shelf, screwed a fresh Sobranie into her cigarette holder and strutted out from behind the bar.

Maurier led her before the surprised ex-employer out to his car. That night, in a swank hotel far up on the Italian Riviera Claudia undressed and waited for her new man to come to her.

Just when she was on the verge of falling asleep Maurier, completely nude, left the bathroom and entered the darkened bedroom. He seated himself on the edge of the bed and slid a hand between the girl's well-rounded thighs. She shifted and opened her long legs, showing him the furry bush carpeting her femaleness. Maurier moved his hand up to play with her breasts instead.

Moonlight seeped into the room, gleaming on the lush body. Claudia, in a state of heat, squirmed and moaned as Maurier's hands worked her rounded, well-developed breasts. "Come into me, now, now," she had whispered. "I never thought I could be so on fire."

Fluid leaked out of her boiling hot opening and her breath was ragged. Still the man delayed taking her. He had, in fact, avoided her as she offered the warm, extremely exciting body.

She begged him while twisting over the bed, sending her hips into swelling curves, rounding out the contours of her miraculous body. But when he fell upon her in a savage embrace, Claudia cried out. The man was built like a donkey!

"Aiiiieeeeeee!"

"Ahhh, yes, ahhh, my beauty, ahhh, my sweet, ahhh, my prizewinner!"

Claudia forgot the size of the instrument penetrating her and responded like an animal in heat, fitting herself to Maurier, rising up to meet his downward thrusts, keeping every part of her strong body in motion.

She came, again, and again, and again, until after what must have been the twentieth orgasm she lay back, not only exhausted but about to faint.

The past now receded and the present returned.

Hugh, drinking his whiskey thought any man who could make a dish like Claudia come twenty times without climaxing himself had the durability of a statue and should be envied.

Claudia searched within the voluminous pockets of her robe and brought out a rubber instrument. "Here, this is how he made me pop off twenty times."

"A false penis! A rubber dildo!"

"Exactly. I hope I shall get the real thing from you."

"Is he impotent or what?"

"Too small. He shoves the little that nature gifted him with into this thing. He possesses many dildos, all different shapes." She got up, tossed down the remains of her whiskey. "I shall leave the bottle with you. Sweet dreams."

"Hey, wait!" He reached for her, gaining a fast feel of the fabulous breasts and making a swift sweat pass over the bursting ass. She kissed him hotly, allowed him to tweak the nipples of her breast and open her robe.

Hugh, encountering hot nakedness was immediately, excited. He dipped lower, trying to shove her strong legs apart and bring his penis up into her bush-covered slit. He had barely gotten it in when the girl gave a wrench of her ass.

"Later." She was gone, blending into the darkness of the empty hallway.

"Shit!"



Chapter 10

Shortly before midnight there was again a knock on the door. Thinking it was the maid, Claudia, back to offer him the body that she had denied previously, Hugh hastily sat up and switched on the small table lamp. His clothing was scattered about the room and he was naked, covered only by a flimsy sheet.

"Come in."

The door opened and the odor of whiskey entered, followed by the tall, slightly wobbling but still aristocratic form of his employer, Maurier.

"Good evening to you, my dear chauffeur." The man bowed like a Prussian of the old school.

Hugh stared at him with genuine amazement. What in hell was all this? "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Sir!" Maurier corrected.

"Sir," repeated Hugh.

"Yes, that is better." Maurier indicated the uniform hanging on the door of the closet. "What about it, does that thing fit?"

"A bit too tight in the chest but it fits, Sir."

"Excellent. Some time in the morning, perhaps after breakfast, we shall leave, you, I and Claudia." He glanced about the room, his eyes coming to rest on Hugh. lingering a bit too long for comfort on the muscles and hard, rock-like chest of the young man.

"Anything else, sir?"

"Tell me, what were you, a boxer or a wrestler? Or is it perhaps karate that formed such muscles?"

"I worked in the mines."

"Coal mines? Where?"

"In America. Pennsylvania to be exact. And I went into the diamond mines outside of Johannesburg, South Africa."

"A true worker, using muscle instead of brains. Ahh well, we all cannot possess great intelligence, eh?" Maurier's smile was slight, just one corner of his mouth turning up.

Hugh feigned a yawn and allowed his eyes to close down as if he was ready to fall asleep.

Maurier hesitated. "Ahh, you are tired. Pity. I was ready to ask you to Join me in a nightcap."

Oh. oh, the bastard is starting in early, thought Hugh. "Some other time, sir. I better get a good night's sleep if we have to leave so early tomorrow."

"I agree." Again Maurier viewed Hugh's body and chest; then with a slight bow he withdrew, closing the door gently behind him.

Hugh frowned, thinking he had again put his foot right into a bad situation. After a while he switched off the light and settled down for the night. One hour later rain arrived, bringing with it an explosive thunder.

He found it impossible to sleep. The rain, the memories of the Baldwin's, the gnawing thought that Maurier was crazy, all this was too disturbing.

He wondered about Jane Baldwin, worried that the girl might be searching the town for him. It was just as well that he was leaving. Again, Hugh closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Later came the sounds; cats crying out there in the garden, strange birds suffering under the rain? or what? He listened, straining his ears, attempting to identify the noise.

Then the sobbing, or perhaps sighing, floated smoothly on waves of sound, and as he listened more intently he knew it was caused by a woman. Ohh, yeah, good old sex, it had to be.

Hugh slid his legs over the side of the bed, donned his trousers, and, bare-footed, stepped out into the hallway. He pursued the sound, going from one darkened and deserted room to another until he discovered the source.

Slowly, certainly, gently like a thief, he wrapped his fingers about the doorknob of Claudia's door. He peered into her room, hearing nothing. Then in that instant lightning exploded and in the brief, almost brilliant light, he realized that the maid's bed was mussed up but empty.

He backed out, waited, pursing his lips and looking left and right, thinking that the sobbing seemed more distinct elsewhere along the hail, in one of the rooms he had not checked.

Suddenly he hesitated. If Maurier and Claudia were together making love then it was none of his business. But his curiosity was far too aroused and returning to the small room would not insure a good night's sleep.

He padded silently down the darkened hall and at the extreme end in a vast room where several candles threw off a flickering light he came upon the maid, Claudia, and Maurier.

Claudia lay on her back, atop an old chaise lounge. Before her, completely naked and with his face twisted into a frightening mask, was Maurier. Hardly the aristocrat now, more the demon.

The maid was naked, clad only in youth and beauty, with her nightclothes bunched up on the floor. Her entire body gleamed in the candlelight, the breasts she was so proud of high, their turgid nipples erect. As she shifted her long, full-calved legs, her sleek hips rolled restlessly.

Hugh tossed a swift glance at his employer, just standing there. What in hell was this all about? What sort of a man was this? But as he watched, a totally frozen spectator. Hugh saw that Claudia was staring up at Maurier without any trepidation. Her eyes were half closed and her tongue flicked along her lips, wetting them.

"Should I?" Maurier asked in a trembling voice.

"If it makes you happy."

"But ... I. ..." Something, some inhibition, was holding the man back. He went to the woman not like a passionate lover but more like a tottering baby who was taking his first steps.

Claudia made no effort to rise. Her breath was coming quickly and the flesh along her thighs quivered. She threshed her hips, causing the wooden legs of the old chaise lounge to creak. Hugh saw how her satiny-skinned breasts rose, the thickened nipples bobbing.

"You are making me wait," she moaned in anguish.

Maurier looked down upon her and then, like a savage animal pouncing upon its prey, he threw himself upon Claudia's magnificent body.

For a moment it was a scene out of the jungle, two battling animals determined to survive with Claudia the more wild, her nostrils flaring, curses leaving her lips. And it was Maurier who abandoned the fight and acknowledged defeat. He tried to rise, shouting that he had already climaxed, but he was held strongly until he surrendered, mewling like a kitten.

Still the young woman kept on with the sexual act, going through an assortment of moves and groans and moans. "Ahhh, si, si!"

"Ahhh, it is long spent, long over and there is nothing left!" Maurier was a sixty-second man when it came to sex.

Hugh was distraught because he had been too curious and compelled to watch. Worse, he found no understanding and thought the scene was only for the debasement of Claudia's beautiful body.

Then the maid's eyes popped open and fastened on the young man standing there.

He met her glance without flinching, then pivoted on his toes and returned to his room. There he quickly slipped on the rest of his clothing, donned his socks and shoved his feet into his shoes. As he closed the cover of his bag Claudia, her used body now covered by a robe, came in.

"Well, what is this? Running away?"

"You two are much too weird for me. I smell trouble, so I'm getting the hell out of this."

She tossed the thick mane of hair back from her shoulders. "You are not so young, after all, so you must have seen stranger things in your life than two people making love."

Love was it, the staccato rhythm of her ass slamming against the chaise lounge and the beast-like crouch of Maurier moaning? She had said before that he suffered from impotence or a shortage of penis. "Love! That's raw sex. Anyway, convey my regrets to his highness because I'm bugging out."

"Stupid. This is a dream job for you. The pay is nothing but you need not worry about food, and even cleaning your clothes goes under the heading of expenses. He seldom needs the car, so you can drive it around all you wish, impressing the girls. And ... there's me."

She opened her robe to reveal the globular breasts. Hugh nodded, "I know, prizewinning melons."

"I need the services of a man like you. My nature demands it. I am a healthy woman and with you next to me I would not have to go seeking others in garages or bars or on the beaches."

"Then pack your things and, leave this joint with me."

"What? How would you support us? I would end up again as a waitress in a dirty café with my ass pinched by evil men with bad-smelling breath."

Hugh sat on the bed with his hands resting on the knees. He could not tell her he was rich enough to support her in great style for the rest of his life. He had sworn to work, to live on what he earned and not reach into a bank account. "I don't know, girlie, I just don't know."

She closed the door. "I am a sport, I'm willing to gamble."

"I'm listening."

"If I make you happy, then you stay on the job; otherwise you leave the first thing in the morning with no bad feelings on my part."

"Some odds. You know damned well you can satisfy me. I saw the way you screw."

"All right, I know I am good in bed. But liking me is another matter. Perhaps you will like me well enough too."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"I get you."

Claudia untied the robe and it fell away, showing her luxurious body, appointed richly with the dome - like stomach, the rounded thighs so sleek and shining, the womanly hips and, above all, the amazing breasts standing straight out.

"Come, get undressed and put out the light. We have wasted too much time talking."

"You just came straight from Maurier." Even as he spoke Hugh was undressing.

"Yes, but he did not give me any satisfaction. Also, I did not give myself to him the way I intend to now. I offer you a total passion, a woman's true lust now."

Claudia sat on the bed, helping him to undress. Her fingers caressed the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders and as she encountered his flat stomach he heard the intake of her breath.

"Oh. no, never," she said, "I can not let you go."

As she explored his body, expressing delight, his hands searched hers, feeling up the curved sun-tanned flesh of her thighs, touching tenderly the swelling belly, feeling desire flood his loins.

Then Claudia's tongue was darting into his ear and she was whispering: "Presto, presto, caro mia!"

His hardened penis, surprised, creating an unexpected sensation of delight and she was willing to express the new-found pleasure of finding a man who was built like a man instead of an undeveloped boy. Hugh straddled Claudia, his knees resting between her sweating armpits, and he lowered his thing into her mouth.

She fellated him quickly, her lips encircling the penis, her tongue darting. Whining he stiffened and bore down, sending what he had deeper into her mouth. The juice was bubbling in his sac of eggs and he did not want to come.

He put his hands to her head while Claudia raised herself up from the bed, swallowing every millimeter of the instrument. Her tongue sucked away, speeding up, making his penis harder, and he had to yell that it was enough.

He rolled his penis all over her twisting body until she rolled around on her stomach, drew up her knees and presented her curving buttocks to him. "Take me from the rear."

Hugh watched how that beautiful ass widened, becoming more large, definitely more rounded. Then, gloating in triumph, he gripped the smooth cheeks and knifed neatly underneath, entering the slightly puffy-lipped vagina. His shaft delivered an unexpected excitement, causing jagged streaks of pleasure to tear into Claudia's curvaceous body.

"Mama mia!"

"Aaaahhhh. girlie!"

Hugh attached himself to Claudia, blending more, fastening his chest to her back, his loins to her rotund and always squirming buttocks. His manhood was completely sheathed in the wet, velvet-lined hole.

"I ... am ... ready now!"

She was timing his action, ready to start a perfect synchronization so that the partnership would be complete. He retreated and pushed forward, easily bringing her to orgasm. As she squealed from happiness he admired her smoothly muscled shoulders, her hard bosom and her rippling thighs.

The peculiar tingling, too seldom brought on before, went through her arms and legs. Spasm after spasm caused her body to twist and she nearly screamed out.

She fell forward, flinging her limbs out, her buttocks still humping as the climax passed. Hugh, his penis smeared with her oils, simply looked down at the poor maid.

That was that, he figured, there would be nothing more for him.

He was wrong. Lust had brightened and sputtered and leaped in the blazing white fire of passion that night and the game between himself and Claudia was far from over.

It was his turn to add more fuel to the flame and this time he let his tongue and hands do the job. Each of her lovely breasts was measured and treasured. The strapping ass, so thrusting and resilient, was washed clean with spittle. The soft belly was laved, the rounded hips stroked, the full thighs and long legs rubbed with his penis and mouth.

"Can you still go on?"

"All night," she answered.

Two of his fingers slipped into the pelt covering her vagina and fondled the slight protuberance. Electricity scorched the girl's loins as a tongue went where the finger had been. The lips of the vagina quivered, the button within throbbed and a murky juice flowed.

"Nooooo!" Claudia's fingernails were like claws, digging into his arms and shoulders.

He enjoyed this night, sucking the girl clean, washing her body with his ever-busy tongue. "Man, are you beautiful! This prizewinning body! Ohh, Claudia, there is just one like you in this world."

"You can keep on all night without coming, can't you? It seems that way."

"Not always, just now."

Claudia could only lie limply with just her curving hips mobile, always in action, agitated by her new lover's caresses. "You are wonderful! Where has a man like you been all my life?"

"Looking for you, maybe."

He really busied himself. He brushed the beautifully taut thighs with his tongue, scraped the pubic hairs with his teeth and introduced his tongue to the slit.

It was the ecstasy that the prizewinning housemaid had always sought in bed and seldom found. She tossed her hips up with an easy effort, slung her long legs over his bobbing shoulders and groaned as the long-awaited penis again entered her.

"Divine man!"

Hugh was amazed by the happenings. The girl's ass just went wild. It was not just rhythmic but perfectly rhythmic, so swiftly moving, so crazily rapid that he knew his orgasm was not far off.

"Girlie, I am going to go off like a traffic light. Slow that rump down!"

"I cannot, can not! It is not under my control. Come if you so desire because I cannot stop!"

Hugh thrust in deeply and looked down at his new girlfriend, seeing the sweat dribbling in the crevice of her sunburned breasts. For the last time now he summoned his energies to take her with still more heated passion.

She fought it out with him, welcoming his every hard thrust, not caring how swift, knowing he was quickening in order to bring her to climax before he shot his load.

"Ahhhh, si, si, my lover! In! Out!"

"In! Out! I'm, going, I am trying ... aaaahhh!"

Claudia slid under Hugh, vibrating as he plunged deeper, flowering too as he gushed like a flood. "Aaaaa, you came, my lover!"

"Ugh, ugh. uhhhhh!"

Hugh pushed her legs wider apart and bent forward, holding his face against the somewhat' brownish melons of her breasts. And then ... it was over for both of them.

Claudia left the bed, thinking that perhaps she could go and wash. But the poor battered girl took just two steps, stiffened, and reeled right around, falling across Hugh's prone body in a near faint.

"Such a man!"

"And what a woman you are!"

"I could do no more even if I desired. I know now what it feels like to be dead."

Hugh tried to answer but for the moment no words came. He even lacked the strength to talk.

Claudia opened her eyes. "Well?"

"You do not have to ask, do you?"

"Then the answer is yes?"

"Definitely yes. But you must stay here in this bed all night."

"Crazy man." She pressed her hot, pulsing lips against his cheek. "From now on, caro mio, I shall warm your bed every night and during the day also, if you want me to."



Chapter 11

Bright and early the next morning Hugh donned his chauffeur's uniform, backed the shining Mercedes Benz out of the garage and awaited Claudia and his employer, Maurier. They came down shortly, both of them staggering under the weight of packed valises.

Hugh drove rapidly but well, pleased with the smoothly running automobile, handling it as if it were part of himself. Occasionally he would glance up into the rear view mirror to glimpse Claudia and Maurier, huddled together in the back seat, kissing like a couple of high school kids.

Damned if he understood the girl; she slept with him, denounced Maurier for being an impotent fool, then offered him hot kisses.

Within two hours they pulled into Monte Carlo to find that small town burning under the morning sun and packed with tourists from every nation on the earth.

Maurier left the car and stood aristocratically, surveying the scene, passing judgment. "It is much too crowded here with peasants. I do not wish to associate with them. Drive on."

At the Italian border Maurier complained of hunger pains. Hugh left the car and waited while the customs officials, aware of their power but not their stupidity, pawed through the luggage. At length their passports were asked for, stamped and returned. Hugh had to lock the Mercedes up before he could enter the small café where Maurier and Claudia were already having lunch.

As he parted the beaded curtains of the cool place he recalled the old saying: 'French cooks have ruined Italian stomachs.' Let's see, he considered, how my stomach stands up under this. But he was aware too of the glowing colors of travel posters, the shapely waitresses, all built along the lines of Claudia, and the full-flavored aromas emerging from the kitchen.

Silver, red and purple-blue sea foods gave off the fragrance of the deep sea, while piled-up vegetables and fruit still damp from the morning dew reminded him how beautiful this land could be. No two ways about it, he was going to enjoy Italy.

He sat, thinking of the herbs from warm mountain slopes that mingled their scent with the marvelous cheeses and the spicy odors of dark-smoked hams and garlic-filled sausages.

"Man, I am hungry!"

"Do not act like a boor," warned Maurier. "You are in the company of a gentleman. Myself. Act that way if you are alone with Claudia."

Throughout the splendid meal Maurier was silent, totally aloof, but under the table Claudia's full-fleshed legs opened and closed upon Hugh's leg, imprisoning it. Only when she guessed that she had completely aroused him was his leg released.

On the way back to the car she whispered: "You have got it bad for me, haven't you?"

He looked at her lovely red hair, checked out the almost wanton lurch of her grinding buttocks and admitted aloud that for the moment he did have it quite bad for her.

Just before they entered the Mercedes, when Maurier was studying the distant sun-painted hills, Claudia wove her fingers into Hugh's hair and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Her lips were moist and warm, her breath sweet-smelling from wine, and when Hugh kissed her back hard, determinedly, his senses reeled. "Wait, we better stop this if I'm to keep my mind on the driving."

She looked so amazingly beautiful standing there, bare-armed and bare-legged under the hot sun. For a moment Hugh was forced to caution himself not to fall in love with her.

It was late when they pulled into San Remo and drove up to the pink-succeed, two-storied villa that Maurier had rented. Hugh waited until the two people left, each taking luggage; then he backed the car into the attached garage.

His rear bumper banged against metal. Hugh jammed on the brakes and twisted about to view an Alfa Romeo sports convertible. Easing forward, he twisted the steering wheel slightly and managed to back up this time without locking bumpers with the seemingly new, white car. That done, he picked up the remaining luggage and went up a wide, pebbled path and into the villa.

He entered a large room, the floor tiled in ceramic but sparsely furnished with cheap summer stuff. One wall held a dead fireplace. The other three walls had six-paned windows that opened out on the garden and further beyond the sea.

Hugh deposited the bags on the floor and went looking for Claudia. He found her in a small, whitewashed room. Her suitcase was opened on the bed and she was already hanging things in the closet.

"How do you like it?"

"Not bad so far. Where's his highness?"

Without turning she said: "He's taking a shower and preparing to go into the town and give the local fellows a look at real nobility."

"Then we will be left alone."

"Sex on your mind again, eh? Ahh, you naughty, naughty man."

"Where am Ito sleep?"

"There." Claudia turned and winked. "Next door to your loved one, namely me. Come."

She crossed the tiny foyer and shoved open the door. Hugh followed her into a room no larger than hers and just as badly furnished, containing a bed, a closet, a chair, a table and nothing else.

"Home, sweet home! Well, I could do worse." He unbuttoned the tunic. "I am boiling alive in this outfit. I'm going to change into jeans and a light shirt."

Just then Maurier, wet-haired and dressed in a linen suit and an open-collared silk shirt, passed by. He had a long cigarette screwed into a holder. "Getting yourselves settled? That's good. I'll dine by myself in the town. Out there in the kitchen I came upon some eggs and fruit which you two may eat."

Claudia placed her hands on her hips. "Just how old are those eggs?"

"They appear to be fresh.. Perhaps the renting agent left them."

"There must be someone else living here," offered Hugh. "I saw a new AIf a Romeo sports car in the garage."

"A white one?"

"Yes."

"Ahh, then my lady friend is here." Maurier's lips stretched into a smile. "The partying starts."

After he left Claudia shrugged. "Good for me that bitch is here. He won't be coming to me at night while she's around."

"Who the hell're you talking about?"

"An aging bitch, collects men like some people collect stamps. Somewhere in her forties I think, but what a cunt! Wait until she sets eyes on you."

Their dinner consisted of omelet's, bread and wine, and once hunger was satisfied Hugh's thoughts turned to sex. Claudia was so earthy. Her opened blouse displayed the generous and shapely bosom. Her arms were rounded and tanned, the hairs already golden. Her red hair, drawn smoothly back. heightened the effect of her marble-surfaced skin, her large eyes and full, beautifully curved lips.

"Can't have enough of me, can you?"

"Let's get into bed right now."

That he desired her filled Claudia with an intense and burning pleasure. "Immediately?"

"Now. I want to play with those tits, I want to stroke that ass. I want to put my face between those long legs and afterwards I want to put my stiff manhood in the place where it belongs."

"But it's been a long trip. We should rest, especially you, since you had to do the driving."

"We will rest. In bed."

"Well. I am here to serve you and since I want the same thing, come on." She got up from the table and threw her shoulders back, causing her bosom to gouge her blouse into many fine wrinkles. "My sexual power over you must indeed be strong."

Claudia unbuttoned her blouse, yanked it out of her skirt and right there, in the kitchen, began to disrobe.

He tried to embrace her but she fended him off expertly, avoiding his arms. "Let me get undressed first."

Hugh was laughing like a child. "One kiss."

"Very well. But just one."

Claudia's fingers hooked into his shirt; she pulled him roughly against her, pressed her lips to his and slid her tongue into Hugh's mouth.

Her tongue went in deep, its tip sliding along his teeth, and tapped against the roof of his. mouth until Hugh became wild and desperate. Slowly, they sank to the floor and there, on the linoleum covering, he tried to take her.

"Not here, in the kitchen," pleaded Claudia.

But when she felt his stiffened penis and saw the hungry look she experienced his full desire and relented. With a yielding sigh Claudia allowed her new lover to have his way.

Still clothed he entered her, shoving his hard staff deep into the warm depths. Her long body rose and she moved in a way that was now familiar but still extremely stimulating to him.

He was too eager, his orgasm already building up and on the way. But his abrupt movements soon had the girl frenzied and she held tightly, pulling him to her struggling body while she twisted her head from side to side. Her buttocks bounced on the cold floor, her long hair played out and her belly spasmed within minutes.

At the final moment, when joy was an explosion, Claudia listened to his manly gasps and dug her nails into the muscles lining his back, surrendering herself fully to the act.

Wine was drunk, talk exchanged and then they washed, went into her bedroom and slept. His watch read eleven and, fully refreshed. Hugh was ready for another round of pleasant lovemaking. The girl left the bed, pulled on her panties and went to the kitchen, searching for more wine.

The new bottle was opened and half finished when they knew, without passing a word, that it was time again to take one another.

The woman stretched luxuriously in the bed, obviously in a state of delirium. Her nipples were sharp points, darker than the skin of her sizable, ball-shaped breasts. Thin panties held her curving buttocks and through them could be seen the thick dark muff of pubic hair.

Now he stroked his penis which had hardened so that it was like a staff, encouraging the girl to come and touch him. She needed no further encouragement. In a moment she was all trembling, her breasts shaking like jelly.

"Oooh, it is so stiff!"

The embrace was tight. The man's weapon shot between her closing thighs and he palmed her twisting backside. She murmured as she caressed his back, telling him he could not penetrate while she wore the clinging panties. She lay back waiting, her eyes filmed over, a beautiful and passionate woman waiting to be loved, and he peeled the panties down her long legs.

"A dream of a girl!"

"Can't you.., put yourself into me ... now!"

She spoke even as she wriggled her buttocks, all gasps, eager to be free of the protective panties. Then she put her arms about her lover's neck. He cupped her buttocks with one spread hand, bringing her up closer to him. His other hand followed the path of his phallus which was pointed in a direct line at her slit.

They kissed again, breaking only to draw in air, the man whimpering and the woman sobbing. He moved his opened mouth down her neck, biting it. With a cry she threw her head back, the long shining hair streaming past her shoulders, her loins pushing against his rigid manhood.

She let out such a frightening scream that he drew back, withdrawing his instrument But she pleaded with him to enter her again. "Please, please, it did not hurt but I have to make that scream! Ohhh, I have to, I have to!"

Sinuously, she crawled about the bed, the globes of her breasts rolling, her backside twisting and rounding to complete fullness. Now he was ready once more, licking his lips, shaking the heavy penis a few times, flinging beads of wetness from it. Then he went after her.

"Aggghhhh!"

He was atop her, propping himself up by flattening his hands on the bed. Muscles stood out on his thick forearms. She threshed beneath him, mouthing little cries. Her eyes were now tightly closed and her hand went to search for the stiff penis.

"Ooooo! Mine, all mine, every millimeter of it is mine!"

She stroked the aching weapon; winding her fingers about the fat base. Her legs fluttered and her arms beat the bed.

"Easy now ... I am going into you." He wedged a hand under her rounded bottom, bringing it up simultaneously as his body was lowered.

"Easy ... easy ... I am almost in, almost all ... the way.., into you!"

His tool was partially in. Then he gave a slight wriggle, encouraging her to swing her legs up, then down. The motion was-swift, and the rigid penis was in, causing the girl to gasp and sigh and scream, all from an unbelieved pleasure.

"Man! You are squeezing me!"

He started off immediately, giving it to her, pasting himself so close that his pubic hairs and her muff were as one. She whined as he placed a hand on either side of her twisting hips and went at her swiftly, using the strength of his hips and thighs.

The woman groaned, her face contorted with lust, her nostrils flaring and spittle flying out of her mouth. "Oooohh, no, ohhh no, no, no, noooo!"

He rammed her hard and she loved it. She squirmed, spread her legs wide apart, pulled them up high, bent them at the knees and urged him to make her happy.

He did. And a shrill sound emerged from her mouth. Her fluid bubbled up out of the opened slit, washing around the probing tool. soaking his hairs and even the sac of balls.

"I came," she shouted, "ohhh, did I come!"

When he finally reached the state of orgasm he sounded like a bull. He made the girl scream and climax again, for he was really screwing her primitively, like someone out of a, dark jungle who thrust her hard and harder and burst her apart.

"Gee, gee, geeeoooooow!" She yelled.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," the man fought to hold on to his breath as the stuff squirted out of his penis.

Later, she opened her eyes wide and put a hand to her mouth. He felt drugged and crawled to his knees, still between the lovely, outstretched thighs.

"I hope that I made you happy because you made me damned happy!"

Around midnight, when the moon was bright over the sands of San Remo, people entered the villa and suddenly lights were on. Hugh, lying in bed with Claudia, heard the sound of voices. Claudia slid out of bed and crossed the floor, breasts and buttocks bouncing to push the door closed. She twisted the knob and searched the dark with her fingertips for the key.

"Damn it. They might burst in and discover us."

"So what? Maurier knows we've become lovers."

"It's that woman who worries me, she has lesbian tendencies."

"Come back to bed."

In the darkness her body gleamed like alabaster and the reddish hair tumbling down about her broad shoulders seemed black as ink. As she leaned over the bed her lush breasts thrust forward. Instinctively he reached up to pull her down against him.

She writhed, fighting like a tigress, but he gripped her with his strength, exercising powerful muscles, and soon her supple, warm body adhered to his. His kisses and fondlings fanned the flames of desire and with a few brief seconds Claudia's fears vanished.

She forgot about her employer and the woman he had returned to the villa with. Every spare portion of her curvaceous body fitted against Hugh's. She parted her rounded thighs to sink down and suck the upright penis into her trembling vagina.

"Uhh, uh, uhhh!"

It would have taken scant minutes for the lovers to reach mutual orgasm, but suddenly the door of the bedroom was flung back and light from the outside hall bathed their locked, throbbing bodies.

Still joined, they turned their heads to see Maurier and a tall, blond woman. At once they broke free, Claudia rising and fighting to catch her breath.

The blond woman gazed upon Hugh's body and his still upright penis. "O Ia, la! Maurier, you have indeed hired a chauffeur."

"Let them screw themselves into the grave." Maurier was drunk; he swayed on unsteady feet.

Claudia leaped from the bed, rushed past the night visitors into the room next door. She slammed the door hard and there followed the sound of a chair being placed against it.

The woman advanced into the room and lightly touched the pole of a penis which glistened from the stuff of Claudia's. pussy. "Ooooh, how wonderful! Abh, Maurier, I fear I shall have little time for you with this marvelous young man around."

"Fuck him if you want. Now, if he's willing."

Hugh rolled over, presenting the woman with his back. "Get out, both of you."

"Pity." The middle-aged blond sighed and followed Maurier out. "But perhaps tomorrow we might get better acquainted."



Chapter 12

The next day, under a brilliant sun, Hugh stood in the garden washing down the Mercedes Benz. He was bone-weary. The encounter with Claudia the previous night, plus being spied upon by Maurier and the blond woman, it was too weird a set-up. Only a few minutes ago he had gone through two huge cups of black coffee and still he felt weak and giddy.

Perhaps, he considered as he rubbed a sponge over the already gleaming hood of the car, he was overdoing the sex bit with Claudia. True, she was a dream, but her sexual appetites were colossal, her energy in-credible. His virility had never before been challenged, but how much longer could he satisfy a woman who believed in non-stop passion? And that blond bitch, how old was she anyway, fifty, fifty-five? She wanted to slot his cock two seconds after Claudia had wormed it out. The Countess, Maurier had called her. Some Countess!

He paused in his work for a moment, wiped hot perspiration from his brow and viewed the surrounding area. No two ways about it; this country was beautiful Maurier was out to have the best that life can offer.

Close by on a hill there was an arrangement of stucco cottages, red-roofed and picturesque. Beyond, m the distance, the sea was beautifully blue and endless. Across the way on a sloping hillside there were privately owned villas and several pensioners. Everything was tranquil under the hot sun and as he gazed up at the skies Hugh was momentarily at peace with the world.

There was movement within his range of view and a door slammed. The Countess came swinging down the path. She wore a vividly colored shirt with short sleeves, a silk scarf, chartreuse beach shorts and leather sandals.

Looking at the platinum blond woman Hugh wondered how she managed to squeeze herself into those shorts. They were too tight, and the legs coming out of them were long and brown and covered by a fine down of golden hair with the calves as muscular as a dancer's.

"Good morning, young man."

"Hi."

"Up early, aren't you?"

"So are you."

Hugh busied himself with the automobile. He twisted the chamois cloth, snapped it several times in the faint breeze and started to wipe down the fenders.

The Countess posed, one hand fastened to her hip, the other hand rising and falling, making brief circles. "Do you like this Mercedes?"

"Damned good car. One of the best in the world. At the price few compare with it."

"And my car, that white Alfa Romeo sports convertible? Cheaper than this, half the price in fact, and yet it serves me as well."

"It's in a different class. As a Volkswagen is different."

The woman smiled, changing the subject. "I learned how you were hired on the spot, without even supplying Maurier with references."

Now what in hell was all this leading up to? "So?'

"So, it seems that Manner exercised wonderful judgment."
Hugh looked into her eyes, seeing them at times blue, then green, and swiftly checked out her body. He would have preferred Claudia any day if it came to a choice, but all the same this woman, despite her age, was well-curved.

Ripe and lush, those were the terms that came to his mind as he looked at the heavy breasts. Hell, he could even see her thick nipples.

She was looking at the flower& in the garden and showing him her strong-nosed profile. Her hips were quite voluptuous, the thighs full, rounding down to those extremely long legs. An aging strip-tease artist, that was what the Countess resembled and man, did she smell of sex.

He heard her breathing faster. Then the woman shocked Hugh by turning, running her fingers through his carefully combed hair, mussing it up. Then her big mouth closed over his and he tasted her tongue.

They parted, stepping a pace back just as Claudia came out of the villa. Her long, silky red hair was tousled, her face freshly scrubbed and her full lips, sullen now, unrouged. She wore an outfit that displayed her magnificent figure to advantage and as she drew near the two people stared at her.

Hugh held his breath. Claudia was vibrant and lusty. The sharp points of her breasts poked through the silk blouse she wore and her curving hips were encased in a pair of blue jeans that seemed about to burst their seams.

She was carrying a woven basket in one hand and a leather purse in the other. As she approached them her eyes narrowed, roaming back and forth from Hugh's face to the Countess's.

"Remember what I told you last night," she said to Hugh.

The Countess said: "That sounds like a warning. Can I be let in on what this is all about?"

"I am not going to share him with any other woman."

"My dear Claudia, how you flatter me. I, a woman of my age going into competition with a young beauty like you? Oh, no, never!"

"I know the sort of a woman you are."

"Oh really, and what sort am I?"

"Hugh has tasted enough rotten fruit but fortunately for him he has not yet become contaminated. There is a lot of good in him and I don't want it ruined. If he needs anything l am here to give it to him and not you."

"Claudia, my dear child, you are quite possessive. Men don't appreciate that. Also, I know from Maurier how demanding you can be. Do you think this boy can satisfy you?"

"Let me be the judge of that."

Still smirking, the Countess turned to Hugh who, throughout the discussion concerning him, had remained silent. "Let me advise you against nymphomaniacs. My last husband ran off with one and ended up in the hospital. The woman's yearnings were simply too much."

Hugh broke in. "Suppose we talk about something else, okay? Where are you off to, Claudia?"

Claudia, angry, spoke low. "To the market. I must do some shopping."

She stroke off like a big cat, her body flowing gracefully, the packed hills of her buttocks grinding.

"Fantastic," said the Countess. "That girl has a fantastic figure. And will you just look at that back-side! Truthfully, I have never seen anything like it."

Hugh sighed and got into the Mercedes. He switched on the motor and, choosing a reverse gear, slowly backed the big car into the garage.

The woman remained outside, basking under the hot sun. "Tonight, you must prepare yourself for our wild party."

Hugh left the car, slamming the door hard. "Sorry. I've other plans, with Claudia, for the evening. Unless, of course, she is invited too."

"Claudia is the maid. The help may associate with anyone on the same level but I am afraid that at this party she would be out of her element."

"And I am the chauffeur."

"Temporarily. Maurier and I both feel you are something else. Perhaps an out-of -work actor."

"Sorry but I can't make your wild party."

"But your job calls for it. Maurier will do quite a bit of drinking. I intend to also. Neither of us can handle a car when drunk. As you said, you are the chauffeur."

That evening there was an argument with Claudia. He tried to kiss her but she pushed him off. When he passed a hand along the exploding flesh of her buttocks she slapped him hard, on the face. Surprised, he asked for a reason.

"You want to sleep with that fat, middle-aged woman, I know it!"

There was no use in pursuing such nonsense. Hugh went to shower and upon emerging found some packages on his bed. He swiftly unwrapped them; he snapped strings and removed tissue paper and beautiful, expensive things spilled out of the opened boxes.

He stared, unbelieving.

Somebody was playing Santa Claus at the wrong time of year.

There was a dark-blue knitted blazer with genuine silver buttons. Another box offered three white silk shirts with wide-spread collars. Against a background of flimsy tissue lay several club-striped neckties. Across the bed were two pairs of gray linen slacks. When Hugh picked up a heavy oblong box he found two pairs of calf-skinned loafers, one black, the other pair dark brown.

Claudia stepped into the room, her eyes blazing. "See why I was annoyed. So this is how that fat bitch gets you-with these new clothes."

Hugh was speechless. "Why ... why should she ... man, this is wild!"

The girl moved forward, arm outstretched to sweep the things off the bed, but Hugh blocked her path.

"Wait a minute, will you. Give me a little time to think this thing out."

"Are you a gigolo?"

"No!"

"So, return them. Hah, does she think that a few pieces of rag and leather will make you hers?"

"Claudia, I must talk to her."

"NO!'

"But what about you? The first night I was hired I found you sleeping with Maurier. If he sent for you now you'd march straight into his bed."

"I would not. That is all finished."

"The hell it is."

"Maurier understands me well enough now to know. I belong to you. Anyway, he is concerned about the party. He hopes to meet the sort of woman who will arouse his baser instincts. Me, I am just a maid."

"All right, I'll give the thing. back to the Countess."

Claudia's eyes softened and her voice lowered. "Hugh, we have something good now. Please do not ruin it. You make me feel alive and proud to be a woman. I am happy that I don't have to fling myself at these waiters and mechanics and porters when the urge to have a man is upon me."

She had said that before, but he listened intently, knowing her feelings for him were sincere.

"I have you now. I prefer doing it with one man alone and besides I want to do it with you."

She approached him, offering her body. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on the silk blouse and her high, perfectly shaped breasts tumbled out, round and creamy, their pinkish nipples already stiffened.

Hugh needed no further urging. He was fighting to get out of his clothing and pushing the new garments from his bed to clear a space. Naked, the lovers embraced, with his erected penis sliding between her slightly parted thighs. Gently he arranged her on the bed and Claudia raised her arms high so that her globes were thrust up sharply, jutting upward for him to squeeze and fondle. They reminded him of other balls, those breasts, and he tried to roll her over to take her from the rear.

"No, for the moment take me in the regular position and afterwards we may try another."

"All right."

He tweaked the nipples that had ripened to a hard stiffness. The round buttons had changed from pink to red with the girl's excitement. Then his hands went to her hips, over the flaring curves, before cupping the spherical rump.

"My love, kiss my body."

He obeyed, kissing her neck while he stroked the wildish, womanly hips and palmed the bubble-shaped behind some more. For a moment he bent lower down, pressing his face into the curling pubic hairs and running his tongue along the slit.

Claudia was delirious when his tongue went into her vagina. The silken lips parted and the tiny little bud that was the clitoris rose hard. He rose up and closed his open mouth over one breast, testing the rubbery nipple, then the other.

Again he traveled lower, resting his chin lightly on the soft belly, washing out whatever had accumulated in the navel with his tongue and finally burying his mouth in the thick fleece of v-shaped hair.

Claudia began to sob. Her legs were splayed, the moist slit between them pouting open. His tongue was there, lapping at the warm crotch, feeling the juices leak out. His tongue flicked at the slit, then sank fully inside.

That did it for the girl. The action of cunnilingus was slow, but it produced an orgasm. The girl flowed and moaned as she flowed. He repeated the process, the rhythm of his jabbing tongue becoming swifter, the pressure increasing. His face smelled of her love juice as she kept on dripping.

Hugh drew up waiting until she recovered her senses. He sent two fingers into her succulent opening, getting the fingers heated up at once. The hot, moist flesh closed tightly around the intruders and Claudia spilled again.

"Ohhh, another, ohhh, another!"

"Isn't it what you always need?"

"It is what I always want! Come, take me," she implored, "put your manhood into me."

"My way, this time, all right?"

"Oohh, if you wish."

Claudia rolled over on her belly and presented her lovely rear to him. He raised her, holding fast to her thighs, bringing her behind up, aimed his instrument and went right into her dripping vagina without any difficulty.

"Oooohhh, you touch things in me, all kinds of things and ... oooohhh, ahhhh ... I knew it, I knew it!"

"Agh, you are tight, you are hot, you are wet!"

"Take me, take me!"

"I am taking you."

Her bouncing bottom hammered upward, giving him an unbelievable delight. This made him so alive, feeling that luscious butt twisting against him, seeing her long hair whipping about, seeing her deliciously shaped breasts pressing into the bed.

When he pulled his thing out halfway he could see it was coated with a sticky cream of juice. Ahh, look at that, just look at that. Man, he dug in again, straight into the hot wetness, feeling Claudia's rear end clench in an urgent, spastic lust.

Breathing heavily, he came, shooting out just as she fell forward, her hands digging into the bed covers, her hips twisting. Hugh fell atop her, pasting his chest to her sweating back while spurting like a geyser.

Minutes later, when they were both totally worn out, he went limp and dropped easily out of her opening. "Ohhh, Claudia, Claudia!"

"I can't move, I am dead!"

Elsewhere in the villa they heard Maurier, shouting for her.

"Our boss is calling."

"Tell the bastard to go to hell. Ohh, Hugh, I want to sleep forever."



Chapter 13

The party was held on the other side of the hill at the Villa Cagagni. It was situated close to the town and commanded a view of the sea. Reached by a twisting road, the villa was built on arches and was a sprawling place with over a dozen rooms, two kitchens, a library, sitting and dining rooms and an immense salon.

As they drove up in the Mercedes the villa, all ablaze with lights, reminded Hugh and his two passengers of a glistening diamond resting on a background of blue velvet.

The party was already on, the guests making noise. A tall, blondish young man, elegant in a tuxedo, came forth and shook each of their hands in turn. Maurier introduced Hugh not as the chauffeur but as a friend, staying with them.

"This is our host, Doctor Leasor."

"I know you from somewhere, I think." The good doctor displayed a splendid set of teeth in a smile. "Do come in. And how are you, dear Countess, looking as young and beautiful as ever, I see."

The Countess ran her long fingers through her rich head of dyed hair. "I can't afford not to."

The doctor lowered his voice, speaking in a very confidential tone. "The guests are weird tonight. And the girl I am keeping, a jewel. Simply beautiful, a dancer. But the bitch is bleeding me dry. Honestly, I am unable to save a penny with her around."

Hugh had chosen his own suit to wear rather than cover his body with the gifts of the Countess, but as yet he had not given her to understand that they would all be returned.

He followed the three people into the villa and the first sight greeting his eyes was that of a couple, a long-haired brunette in a green gown of shimmering sequins stretched out on the couch next to a flaming-haired man in a gold suit.

Maurier looked about. "Do I know anyone here, doctor? They all seem to be strangers and you said we would encounter old friends."

"So I did." The doctor strode toward the couple, sank his fingers into the long, dark tresses of the sequin-gowned girl and yanked. The girl screamed and clapped both hands to her head while the doctor held what appeared to be a wig, shaking it from side to side.

"Voilà!"

"Doctor! You devil" The girl, who was actually a bald-headed man, squealed.

"Do you see?" The doctor turned to his three new guests. "That proves that you must not believe everything you see. Here you are, Leonard." He tossed the wig at the red-faced transvestite and led his guests further on.

It seemed to be more bedlam than a party. A fat man in a sailor suit whose belly hung down like a deflated balloon was before the piano, playing and singing at the top of his lungs: "I'm mad about the boy!"

Four people, all girls were whirling out a beat rhythm while a middle-aged, heavy-faced man dressed like a rocker in leather stumbled among the dancers, begging one of them, just one, to be his partner.

Everyone was drinking cocktails, but. Hugh opted for a double scotch on the rocks. His companions, the good doctor, Maurier and the Countess, had disappeared. He moved about, sipping at his whiskey, trying to figure out who in hell these guests were.

He sensed that some were Britishers living here on pensions, some college boys on vacation, some gigolos preying on men and women alike, some bored people willing to try anything, and others the type to be found in every country except their own. At one time, long ago, the Americans would have been easy to tell by their height and short haircuts. But the average young European today was quite tall and long hair was a world-wide style. The Germans seemed to have newer clothes, the Italians were easy to spot because of their well-cut suits and air of conceit. The French, of course, were bored, having been to many parties like this.

Thus the mob was international, talking in half a dozen tongues, all smoking, drinking, shouting and running through the villa at top speed, smashing glasses, careening into tables and not caring that everything, food, furnishings and pride were scattered in their wake,

A tremendous man whose head was square and bald plowed through the guests like a tank to stand before Hugh. He wore a uniform, the origin of which was not easy to identify.

"I have been watching you." His accent was guttural, somewhat Balkan.

"I hope you like what you see."

"Indeed. How would you like to be in films?"

"Are you a talent scout?"

"A producer. Talent scout! Bah! I make films in Yugoslavia. Westerns. Better than Hollywood. That place, bah!" The big man revealed a mouthful of bad teeth. "You sign a contract with me at once."

Suddenly a girl appeared in their midst. She was tall, round-faced, brown-haired, pretty in a farm-girl way but a little too plump, almost fat. Her breasts were huge balls and her buttocks even huger balls.

"Daddy, are you bullshitting strangers again?"

"Get away from me."

The girl pressed herself against Hugh. First came her stomach, followed by the overlarge, squash able breasts. "My daddy is a terrible liar. He designed that uniform himself. Where he picked up the accent only heaven knows."

"Daddy," somewhat embarrassed at being found out, bowed low, and, still speaking in the guttural Balkan accent, apologized to Hugh, stressing the fact that he had to discuss business with a few actresses.

Hugh found himself dancing with the girl "Who are you, anyway?"

"Do names matter if one lives for the moment? Tomorrow I can be a stranger."

If the father was psycho then his daughter was too dramatic. But what the hell, this was a party, so Hugh figured he would go along with her game. He had a name for her, however, one that she would not approve of: fatso.

The girl went on talking. "I haven't found the man yet who will be my partner for the night."

"What game will you be playing that forces you to look for a partner?"

"Sex, silly boy."

"Oh, I see."

"You appear to be a likely candidate but I think I ought to look around some more, don't you?"

"That might be best. For you, that is." The zipper on the girl's silk pants had come undone and two of the buttons on her too-tight shirt had popped off. Obviously she believed in squeezing herself into clothing several sizes too small.

She smiled brightly and insisted upon pressing her face and body to his in a slow dance. She felt quite warm and squeezable, like a child's favorite stuffed doll. It was an age since he had bedded down with a plump girl and Hugh would be willing to tumble this one. But he might be sexually drained and when he returned home that night Claudia would be furious.

"Do you like my figure? I seem rather fat but I'm not, you know."

"Who said you were? I'd call you a Rubens type."

"Exactly. I am voluptuous and if you saw me in the nude at once you'd admit I am very round. I don't know how men can go to bed with models, girls built like sticks with pimples for breasts and no asses."

"Some men do, but count me out of that group."

"Would you like to go to bed with me?"

It was a direct appeal, almost innocent the way it was put with her eyes so bright, her unrouged lips parted and those sparkling white teeth. Sure he would, but not at the moment, and Hugh told her this.

"I ought to get some partying in, some more drinks, a little more dancing. Then we'll see."

"All right." She slipped out of his arms and backed up a foot or so. "You may examine my breasts if you like, to sort of put you in the mood."

Hugh squeezed one breast and murmured approvingly. The globe was too big but deliciously firm, and he assured the girl he would be in the mood, "later."

A swift kiss from her soft lips and the fattish girl left. Hugh sighed, looking around for another drink, but nothing was available. White-jacketed servants were kept on the hop from the kitchen to the salon, but guests' insisted upon sweeping as many drinks from the tray as they could carry.

Across the salon Hugh was watched by the Countess and Maurier. The platinum-haired woman selected an unfinished martini and, winking at her companion, carried the glass over to Hugh.

"Here, my darling."

Hugh wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "What is it, a cocktail? I've been drinking scotch."

"Take what's available."

He swallowed the mixture and watched a girl who was dancing atop a table. "Who is that?"

"Her name is Leda. That is the young girl who's draining Doctor Leasor of every penny. He gave this party to satisfy her. A beauty, isn't she, but a bit too big."

The girl Leda stood at least five eleven in her stocking feet and weighed not one bit under one seventy-five, none of which was fat. Her black hair was cropped short and her round, baby face was devoid of make-up. Her body, covered by a man's shirt and beach shorts, was big, wide-hipped, heavy-breasted and too overwhelming with round, strong thighs and buttocks packed with solid flesh. An amazon, her best feature was her legs, which were long and shapely with slim ankles. As she danced, causing every muscle in her body to vibrate, her jutting breasts bounced up and down, their nipples erect.

"She is just too much woman," Hugh told the Countess.

"Would you like to sleep with her?"

"For novelty, yes." He thought about his remark seconds after making it. The people here were too concerned with sex; it governed their actions, seeming to be the goal that carried them through life.

He had left behind wealth and a life of ease to seek hard experience, but all he was finding was sex. It wasn't the way, not the way at all. He was surprised that, during the time he had been in Maurier's employ, he had not given the direction his life had taken any serious thought.

The Countess pressed another martini into his hand. "Here. Your glass is empty."

Hugh took the glass without thinking, automatically drinking the potent liquid. Some of the boys were beating their palms on the table top and the man at the piano played a strange rhythm for the black-haired Leda to dance to. It was a sensuous dance, with the girl's hips undulating to the tempo of the improvised accompaniment.

At once she dragged forth an audience, stopping all conversation. Men put down drinks, women left new partners and food and cigarettes were forgotten as Leda swung her delightful rump in all four directions of the room.

"Eeeee," said a loose-lipped homosexual, "this is one time I wish I were a man."

"So do I," said a fellow at his side, a skinny little pansy with a brassy yellow streak in his otherwise black mane of hair.

The crowd applauded with enthusiasm and Leda, shrieking, responded to their cries by stripping. Perspiration washed her baby face as she removed the now wet shirt and tossed it away. Her generous breasts, unnaturally white against her sun-blackened body, were awash with sweat, bobbing in different directions.

Drawn to the table, Hugh stared with wide, round eyes at the girl's breasts, hips and long legs. For a wild moment he had the urge to climb up there and get his hands on this whirling, large-bodied girl.

"She will take someone on, count on it," said the Countess, pressing another martini into Hugh's hand.

He drank it down without thinking. "Won't the good doctor have something to say about this?"

"He's not jealous. She'll have perhaps a half-dozen different men and then she is his again."

Hugh put the glass to his mouth and made a face upon finding it empty. "Some woman. I didn't think that nature made them that way anymore."

"Wait, I shall find you another drink." The Countess slipped away.

Hugh, sweating like a pig, kept licking his dried lips. The girl, Leda, still up there dancing, was a sensation. Her body, weaving in time to the piano's in-creasing tempo, was unrestrained, and there was pure craving in her eyes.

"Here." The Countess had successfully located still another martini.

With a sudden scream Leda stopped dancing and crumpled on the table, her long legs thrashing as if she were the victim of a seizure. Men broke forward, clambering to climb on top of the table.

The drinking took its effect and Hugh really did not know where he was. He looked into the Countess's eyes, seeing them very wide, quite pale now and definitely serious. Her voice was but a murmur as she took his hand. "Darling boy, you are coming with me."

Startled, moving like a sleepwalker, Hugh was taken out of the party room, down the hall to an empty room. The moment they crossed the threshold the woman embraced him, tearing at the same time at his clothing. He kissed her hard, rubbing his mouth back and forth across hers.

After what seemed an eternity he was naked and so was she. Swaying like a drunk, lie staggered into a small bed and lay back, his head heavy on the pillow, his eyes closed, feeling her take his hands and guide them over her breasts. He encompassed them, finding them still firm and shapely, despite her age.

He tried to keep his mind clear but the drink was too strong, and this woman's body an aphrodisiac, and he squeezed her arms, stroked her hips and palmed her buttocks, feeling out of breath from the long kiss.

The Countess's eyes were swimming in her head and she let out a short laugh that was like a dog's bark. She touched his penis, sending a tingle racing through him.

"Drunk but still capable. Good."

On her side, with her breasts sagging, she rubbed her thighs together, showing him a pubic bush that was quite hairy, blondish and damp. One leg went up as she rolled over on her back and her bottom, flexible and muscled, revolved.

Hugh swung himself right on top of the woman, going directly into her. She shouted that it was great and sighed as he rose up, pulling half of himself out and sobbing as he returned in a deep thrust.

It went on and on without his climaxing due to his somewhat advanced state of intoxication. But the volume of the woman's passion was limitless. He marveled at her sensual talent even as his lunges, upward, forward and inward, quickened.

She came, clinging to him with all her strength as the come bubbled up in her passageway. Her rump bucked frantically as she exploded. He held fast to the spreading flesh of the clenching bottom; she was shooting up.

Again the laugh came, so like the bark of a hound. Then, hissing like a cat, she held him, crying out that he was a superb screw. He struggled with her, locked with her as one, splashing about in the seas of lust and sensation.

At last it was over and she demanded a soft, rather gentle kiss. Hugh, still embedded in the woman, felt her fingertips brushing lightly along the surface of his back.

He tried to inch up but her hot flesh had closed around his member. He exercised another movement and her eyes lost their color momentarily as raw lust stung her.

"Oh, oh, oh!"

Passion pulsed in the woman's veins and she bent her long back, tightening her' rear end and gripping the hard thing with her vaginal muscles.

At first, when he just held her by the buttocks and moved her body up and down, keeping her firmly impaled to his steel-like penis, she allowed him his way, only arching her back occasionally. Then another orgasm built up and the Countess fell upon the bed, writhing and wrapping her strong legs about his waist.

"Yes, yes, YES!"

He was drunk, he was insane and he plunged in and out of her recklessly. It took no time, perhaps three seconds, before the Countess, completely switched on, started to flow. It was torture, this constant ramming with his penis and, whining, she dug her heels into the bed and lifted the man up high.

She came and cried for him to kiss her full, twisting mouth. Even as she climaxed, burning his joint terribly, her hips were always active, meeting every one of his downward strokes.

Then Hugh stopped, raised himself up and fell down, shattering the woman's vaginal walls as he exploded. Her little rubbery clit went into a wild dance as his seed, roaring in, slammed against the dead end of her opening and was blasted back.

"NOOOOO!"

The thick, creamy hot fluid made her body a pyre. She let out one hell of a yell, for the hard, erect thing was ploughing even deeper as it shot and shot.

Hugh rolled over in the huge bed and nearby the Countess, her body gleaming like melted gold, groaned and borrowed deeper into the bedclothes. "Give me a cigarette, please."

At hand was a night table upon which stood a lacquered cigarette box and a silver lighter. He reached over, selected one of the cigarettes, lit it and, after one rather unwelcome puff, handed it to the woman.

"Thanks." She sat up in bed, flinging her hair back, looking now every bit her age. Circles ringed her eyes and with all her make-up wiped off during the hot-blooded sexual struggle, the wrinkles caused by a lifetime of sin and pleasure were obvious.

Hugh was surprised his head was not hammering from a hangover. Across the room wind flowed in, fluttering the gauze curtains, and parts of the hills were shadowed with darkness, but the highest portion was yellowed by the new sun.

"Hell, it's morning!"

"But the party has not ended."

He left the bed, cursing. Once again he had made a wrong move. Hell, why was he so determined to louse up his life like this, always selecting the wrong trails. It reminded him of a railroad junction wherein a yard-man throws a switch, tracks are shifted and the course of the train is altered.

Sleeping with this woman! When would he realize the outcome of this act? In a few hours, a few days? Claudia would certainly stamp finish on their relationship.

He saw a cloud of cigarette smoke float toward the ceiling and turned to look down upon the smiling Countess. Like Maurier, she was rich and spoiled but most of all corrupt, easily at home in this house of evil belonging to a weird doctor.

Abruptly the woman threw back the covers, exposing her tanned, shapely body covered along the thighs and legs with a golden down.. "How are you this morning?"

"Amazed at myself."

"I am the one to be amazed, darling boy. Oh, my dear, I am here to tell you that your ability, your bedmanship so to speak, whether practiced or natural, is downright amazing. In fact it is nothing short of sensational."

He reached for his clothing. "I am going."

"To Claudia, the maid? She is beautifully built but I think Leda, the girl who danced on the table last night, is superior. But of course she is a common slut. Tell me, is Claudia as good in bed as I am?"

He was dressing. "I do not wish to talk about Claudia."

Her answer, a whisper, was unheard due to the noise from the party room. Women were screaming, men shouting and chairs could be heard tossed against the walls.

Hugh bounded from the room and saw that some of the guests had gone berserk. Glass was crashing, linen being ripped and people fighting savagely. Punches were tossed, chins got slammed, more viscous blows were returned and the recipients of these went to the floor.

Doctor Leasor, of all people, naked as the day he left his mother's womb, was jumping up and down shaking his fists. "Stop it, stop it, you are wrecking my villa."

On the floor next to an overturned couch was the baby-faced dancer, Leda, out cold and still nude. Two of the male guests, an Italian and an Englishman, slugging it out, brought the fight close to where she lay, but Leda slept on.

"Take that, Carlo, you rascal," grunted the Britisher.

The Italian, even if his name was not Carlo, was certainly a rascal. He took what the Englishman offered and went down and out, right next to the sleeping beauty.

The melée, taking on the serious aspects of a brawl, ranged from room to room, along the hallway, into the kitchen, out of the bathroom; porcelain was being broken, chairs destroyed, bottles smashed, pictures torn from the walls, expensive tapestries trampled underfoot and priceless rugs ruined forever.

Hugh saw his employer, Maurier, sprint through the front door. He turned again in time to see the Countess, a bed sheet wrapped about her naked body, hop and skip through the battle, leap ballerina-like over fallen bodies and follow the same path taken by Maurier.

The wail of police sirens was distinct and those few guests not beaten to their knees started a mad rush to flee the premises. Not all could get through at once and some smashed the windows to make their escape. But the police cars were numerous and a flock of carabinieri blocked the mob, catching most out there in the garden, letting just a few slip through. Screaming, the refugees re-entered the villa en masse, clawing and fighting their way back into sanctuary.

Hugh caught on at once and while the police blew their whistles he sped down the hall to the servants' quarters and climbed through a window. He wore just his trousers, having left behind everything else, and now, as he raced away from the villa, sharp rocks tore into the soles of his feet.

Exhausted, looking like a man who had just broken out of jail, Hugh staggered into the house rented by Maurier. The first sight that met his eyes was that of the once-proud Mercedes Benz now reduced to crumpled metal. It must have crashed into a tree, for the entire front had been pretzelized while the tree remained firm and upright. In the back seat, apparently unhurt and snoring away, was a guest from the party.

There was the sound of a motor turning over and Hugh looked toward the garage just as the white Al! a Romeo sports car shot off. He started toward it, his hand upraised.

"Hey!"

Behind the wheel was the Countess, with her passengers, Maurier, and in the back, pieces of luggage jutted up. The small car turned and was lost from his sight. Pausing, still able to hear the police whistles and screams in the distance, Hugh knew that the two people had fled to avoid being arrested.

In the kitchen he found Claudia serving coffee to a rough-looking black-haired youth with the arms of a blacksmith. This person sat at the table dressed in a once-white cotton pullover and beach shorts. Upon Hugh's entrance be merely looked up.

Claudia, her eyes reddened from lack of sleep and her long hair snarled, moved silently. She wore a cotton robe and Hugh sensed that under the robe there was nothing except her warm body.

"What in hell is going on?"

"You ought to know since you were one of the guests at that dirty party. Orgies are not allowed, my friend, not in my country or any country. Every guest who attended is liable for arrest. Yourself included."

"Huh?"

"Yes, huh. Maurier got out. Your new girlfriend, that old bitch the Countess, got out. I suggest you do the same."

"You didn't waste much time, I see," he said, referring to the black-haired young man.

Proudly and somewhat defiantly. she threw her shoulders back, causing her breasts to rise. "No, I did not. At least with a fellow like Salvatore here I know where I stand."

Hugh did not answer and Claudia, flaunting her awesomely shaped behind, left the room. Salvatore scratched his ear, wiped his mouth with his palm, looked rather foolishly at Hugh and left the kitchen, taking the direction of Claudia's room. Less than one moment later whispers drifted out and the sound of naked bodies rubbing together was heard.

He listened to Claudia's groans and the squeak of the bedsprings, knowing this was all for his benefit. The beautiful red-haired girl that was almost his was getting her revenge. The cries of passion as Salvatore possessed her were upsetting and Hugh imagined her body with its imposing breasts and buttocks mauled by the strange young man.

Abject, Hugh slumped upon a chair and rested his elbows on the kitchen table. Well, he had certainly made a mess of things.

Claudia's squeals turned to shouts, and were followed by Salvatore's pig-like grunts. Then all went silent. Then the girl came into the kitchen again, the cotton robe floating open to show the body just used, the breasts burned so brown by the sun, the shapely thighs rubbing together.

She was after a bottle of wine and opened it with her back to Hugh, slowly, drawing the robe together so that it tightened over her buttocks, clearly outlining the dynamic thrust of each cheek.

On her way back to her new lover she paused. "Get out. I have warned you. The police will go to all the houses in the vicinity and make their inquiries. If they come here I shall speak the truth."

She left an odor that had been so familiar to him, the scent of her luscious body and the fragrance of her perfume, the two blending, lingering in his nostrils.

At length Hugh stirred, went into the bathroom, removed his trousers and stood under a hot shower. He remained stiff as a statue for long minutes before finally soaping himself, then washed the lather off with cold spray.

As he toweled himself dry he noticed that the house was still. Frowning, he stepped out, wetting the floor in his search for Salvatore and Claudia. But they had gone, taking themselves and, to his dismay, even his suitcase filled with clothing.

He was alone and naked, except for his dirty trousers.



Chapter 14

Fortunately for Hugh, his wallet was jammed into one pocket of the ruined trousers. Therefore his passport, various licenses, a batch of travelers' checks and money, what there was left of it, were still intact. But that bitch, Claudia! She had deliberately stolen his things to dress that damned peasant up like a gentleman.

Holy shit, what a mess, what a damned mess!

He walked through the badly furnished villa, thinking the owner might soon be visiting, demanding rent from whoever occupied it. Since Maurier had gone that left just one person responsible. Him!

Hugh shook his head. "How in hell did I louse up my life like this?"

What hurt most of all was Claudia's treachery. He recalled how she looked in bed, the taut mounds of her breasts still firm, still rounded like melons even as she lay back. He imagined Salvatore's strong fingers squeezing the joy from those very same breasts that he himself had once held and loved, and Hugh began to shudder with rage.

"That bitch!"

Well, there was no point in crying. The deed was done even if the thought remained. In the room where Claudia had cried out her lust while Salvatore was on top of her Hugh found a pair of old shoes. Well, not shoes really, just torn canvas sneakers.

Salvatore's gift to him, the bastard. Putting them on, even though they fit badly, Hugh left the villa. In the garden he looked back, shook his head and walked uncomfortably toward the still sleeping town.

He looked at his wrist watch which he had been sensible enough not to remove during tile hot, lusty turn with the Countess. Not yet seven. No stores would be open yet, but maybe some of the beach cafés would be serving coffee to early swimmers.

He was in luck. One place had just opened, the coffee freshly made. Hugh sat down at a table and ordered. I have got to pick myself up, I have got to! He had lost all self respect and worse, had lost the respect of others. Talk about experience! Oh, man! Maurier, the Countess, Claudia, the Baldwin's and their daughter, Jane ... the faces swam before him, whirling around and around until he thought he would go crazy. He must never allow this to happen again.

Look at me now, afraid of being hauled in by the bulls, running like a thief, with a future that was, at best, uncertain. He had arrived on the Continent with a new leather suitcase filled with elegant clothing and
a solid reputation. Now, a short time later, he was a drifter in dirty pants and wearing another man's castoff shoes.

His bowl of coffee arrived and while he bent over it, letting the rising steam clear his head, the waiter left a basket of rolls and jam and butter on the table.

Hugh ate, stuffing himself on the bread, and the sun was already high in the sky when he finished his third cup of coffee. Now he felt like a new person. All he had to do was formulate some worthwhile plans and go into action.

He looked at the sun-painted streets of the town, feeling somewhat elated. This was what he needed, some sun, some activity and the fiasco with Maurier and Claudia would be forgotten.

Ahh, that bitch! In all truth he could not consider her a loss because she had turned out to be so bitchy and spiteful, gaining her revenge at the end. Her love had been non-existent and the memory of her, right now, was unpleasant.

There was little good to be derived from thinking about the past. The past was a pile of cold ashes that must not be raked up.

Shortly past eight o'clock two women appeared, both dark-haired, neither of them very young, but one tall and slender with a dynamically curved body. Her melon-shaped breasts bounced freely, drawing an excited breath not only from Hugh but from the waiter on duty as well.

They chose a table next to Hugh's and during the serving of breakfast discussed the latest fashions. The younger woman had removed her black sunglasses to reveal a good-looking face with dark, deep-set eyes, a Roman nose and a large, sculptured mouth.

She caught him staring and stared back, letting him know he was damned inquisitive and had a nerve listening to a private conversation. Hugh looked away, but when he heard the woman talking about a travel agency and mentioning that she would interview applicants for a position that very morning, his mind ran ahead.

He knew the agency, located in a side street, squeezed in among boutiques and real estate offices. In might be a chance. But-he could not present himself like this, wearing just wrinkled trousers and borrowed shoes.

The stores were not open yet, so he could not purchase decent clothing, but not far off was an open air market where just about any- and everything was sold in stalls.

As the two women sauntered off, the younger one flinging her rump to the winds, the waiter whistled. "To have that for one night, eh?"

"I'd say a week with a woman like that would not be sufficient."

"She runs a travel place not far from here, that woman."

"So I gathered."

"Wild in bed I bet, when they are slim like that." The waiter felt inclined to chat. "You hear about the orgy last night? Rich people. Terrible sex practices and the bulls had to move in."

Hugh refrained from saying he was a guest. At any rate, looking so poverty-stricken as he did, the waiter would not believe him.

"Types like you and me, poor boys, we are satisfied with one woman when we are hot. Eh? Those rich bastards want group sex. Hashish. Expensive whiskey, changing of partners. No wonder the police raided that villa. I hope they catch them all."

Hugh, preparing to leave, stiffened. "Are the police still searching for guests who attended the party."

"So I understand. You know how it is with cops, especially here. They stay away from real criminals because they are afraid. But they love to go after these rich types, especially if they throw orgies. Man!"

Well, Hugh reasoned, he was safe. He had been a stranger there and in no way could be connected with the disastrous affair. Saying goodbye, he started off in the direction of the market.

At the market square, among the displays of fruit, vegetables and candy, were stalls where pizzas were baked in portable ovens. Just a few housewives out to shop were on the scene, offering Hugh the run of the market. Leather belts and jackets were for sale, as were cheap shirts, neckties, socks, shoes and the like.

Since a variety of types appeared among the shoppers, Hugh, with his bared chest and wobbling canvas shoes, did not seem so much a novelty. Better yet, he had cash and was in no mood for bargaining. He selected stuff, paid the price asked and carried the lot away.

In the shade of trucks parked a short distance away, Hugh dressed, slipping on the blue striped shirt, knotting' the too-wide tie carelessly; then the new socks, the ill-fitting suit that was a synthetic and shaded more black than blue, and finally the shoes that were of good Italian leather.

At the last moment he remembered he had forgotten to buy a comb. But by gazing into the large outside mirror tacked to the door of a truck he managed to make some order of his hair with his fingers. Thus properly attired, he was off once again to make his way in this lousy world.

The woman at the travel agency was shocked to see him. "You! What do you want?"

"To work. You said you needed someone."

She took in his appearance. "Who dressed you, a clown?"

"These were bought in a hurry because I was afraid others would be here applying for the position before me." As he spoke Hugh gestured at the wall clock which read nine.

The woman sighed. In the shadows of the agency she appeared older, in her mid-thirties. Nevertheless she still had the firm, slender body of someone ten years younger.

"Do you have working papers?" She was looking him up and down from head to toe.

"You know the rules. You can't get a working permit unless you have a job."

"I don't know." She shook her head. "I don't want to get into any difficulties with the authorities."

He pointed at the brightly colored posters pasted all about the office, depicting the glories of faraway places with strange-sounding names.

"I know all those countries. Better yet, when you get foreigners in here I can handle them."

"You do not speak Italian."

"But you do. I can speak, besides my native English, French, German, a little Spanish and even some Dutch."

"Perhaps you're more suited for a language school than a travel agency." The woman was skeptical. "Where did you learn Dutch, from some waterfront girl in Holland?"

"In South Africa, when I worked for a mining company."

"Right." She made up her mind immediately. "You will get a try."

Working hours and salary were discussed. Then, with no potential travelers looking in, the entire morning could be taken acquainting Hugh with the workings of the bureau. He was given forms to fill which would be turned over to the various government offices and ... Hugh was once again among the employed.

His boss's name was Gabriella Licardia, but, not being a woman to stand on formalities, she insisted upon using first names. The agency, she explained, was one of a branch owned by a larger firm located in Rome. Although she retained the air of a snob she was actually quite helpful and secured a room for Hugh at a nearby pensione.

Soon, when she discovered that Hugh was capable of running the agency without her presence, Gabriella would appear late, often around noon. Hugh, given a free hand, found himself enjoying some happy moments.

How could he have put up with the life he led back in London. he wondered, waking so late, doing absolutely nothing except drinking and screwing and visiting the tailor or having his car checked? Even though this was all routine he felt active, healthy.

All types stopped in at the bureau; people with too much time, people with too much money, people who were lost. There were people, too, who had little time and little money and whose ideas of travel were definite. Hugh dealt with them all, offering warmth and sincerity in his manner.

He knew train and plane schedules by heart within a few days and could talk with ease about the differences among hotels in Paris, Rome, Copenhagen, Barcelona or Munich. He would unroll maps on the counter and trace with his fingers the swiftest routes to Vienna or the best-paved highway leading down to Naples.

English was the language used most often, but he found his Spanish improving as he dealt with travelers who had left the Basque area for the first time. He booked them the cheapest fares and lowest priced rooms, saving so much that they were able to extend their holidays.

Gabriella now knew what she had on her hands and not only became more friendly but more familiar. He was invited out to dinner at her expense. When he replied negatively to her question of his 'having a girl,' she smiled.

"In that case you can be my escort this evening. There's a film I wish to see and afterwards we might go dancing."

Changes in Hugh's appearance had taken place after the first week. Gone were the market-square clothes. In their stead were highly polished shoes, button-down shirts, cravats of silk knit and a well-cut gray mohair suit. A far cry from the ragged type she had first encountered at the café, Hugh now resembled a gentleman.

After that, further changes in Gabriella's attitude became evident. When he took her home in the evenings, instead of shaking his hand she offered her cheek to be kissed. It upset him because she was getting him excited, slowly, deliberately, and he knew that engaging in sex his boss could only mean trouble.

Still further changes in her behavior came about due to the presence of a young girl sent up from the main office in Rome. The girl not only had a magnetic personality; she was amazingly structured, like a film star in the old tradition of Sophia Loren and Gina Lollobrigida. Her function was to examine all records and fill in reports for the main office, but she was overly friendly to Hugh, hinting always of her availability in the evening.

Now Gabriella put on a campaign to prevent Hugh from falling into the hands and the bed of the young Roman charmer. She changed her hairstyle and clothing, appearing one day with a ponytail bouncing on her shoulders and her saucy hips and bottom encased in a tight pair of shorts. Even the other girl watched as Gabriella swung languidly through the office, her shorts tightening over the contours of the small but definitely shapely rump.

Hugh was in a dilemma. On the one hand here was a young girl with a figure like an hourglass after him; on the other the slender but decidedly exciting Gabriella was spreading her net.

Sex, something he had done without for a while, meant trouble. Hugh sighed; trouble was on the way.

As he studied Gabriella walking about the bureau, her rounded rear rolling smoothly and rhythmically, Hugh's lips went dry. Worse; near the filing cabinets, when she opened a drawer she deliberately shoved her buttocks into his groin, directly against his erection.

And the bitch would not move, she just kept grinding the twin cheeks into him. Hugh's only alternative was to glide his hands over her slender, curving hips in a circling action.

"Wait!"

Gabriella straightened and pivoted so that she was face to face with him, her stomach so hot, rubbing against his, her breasts feeling hard and fiery as they rested on his chest.

Hugh's knees went weak. "Stop it, stop it!"

She was whispering while keeping an eye out for the girl who was engrossed with record-keeping and making figures in a ledger book. "Tonight, after work, you may have me." Her hand went to his trouser front to feel his stiffened joint.

The girl sensed that something was going on behind her back and displayed her awareness by not speaking to either of them the rest of the day. Hugh did not care because the choice had been made for him, and that night he slept with Gabriella.

It was a satisfying experience, and with the memory of previous bed adventures dissolving in his mind, Hugh knew that sleeping with the delicious Gabriella was incredible.

Her remarkable body, tiny waist, sinuous hips and the shining, naked balls on her chest, sent him into a delirium. The smell wafting from her loins, armpits and earlobes, that musky blend of perfume, sented soap and perspiration, was terrifically heady. An when he bore down into the furry area at the juncture of her long, slender thighs, he climaxed at once.

"I am sorry." He was truly ashamed of his performance.

But Gabriella was an understanding woman. She offered conversation with comfort and when one hour had passed asked him to play with her without concentrating on an erection; then it would happen.

She took a stretched-out position, a pillow under her small buttocks elevating that part of her body. Arching like that enhanced the spherical shape and size of her globes and he kissed, stroked and cupped them before tracing a wet line with his tongue down to the big ball of fur at the summit of her thighs and the pink, trembling lips of the vagina.

Hard again, he entered, performing slowly; within no time her first, gentle manipulations had quickened. At the moment of climax she dug her hands into his waist and threw her shoulders back.

"Maaaaaaaa!" was her cry of pleasure.

After that her kisses were hot, her tongue slippery, always in action. He stroked the firm-fleshed torso, explored the roundness of her breasts, and took her again, thrusting in and out until she climaxed and he did too, shooting into her vagina, filling it like a deep well with his wet lusts.

The girl at the office knew they were lovers and took jealous exception. She questioned Hugh, asking him where he was from, his background and former experience in travel agencies.

He lied, putting her sudden dislike down to jealousy. But some mornings later they had a visitor, the boss from the main branch in Rome, a big fat Italian with a hooked nose and slicked-down hair.

Gabriella introduced Hugh, but the boss only scowled. He spoke rapidly to the young girl, who immediately withdrew a newspaper from her desk. It was several days old, folded to a three-column-long story concerning the orgy a few weeks back at the villa.

The boss shook the newspaper in Hugh's face. "Ahhh, you farabuttol"

"Me? A villain?"

"Scandalo, here, in my firm!" He turned to Gabriella. "And you, you sciagurato, sleeping with him. If I did not know your father I would get rid of you, too. This man, this macabro avvoltoio is a millionaire in disguise who attends orgies here in San Remo."

"Shut your fat face!" Hugh snatched the newspaper from the man and scanned it swiftly.

His jacket and shirt, left behind as he fled the villa that morning bore, the labels of his shirt maker and tailor and his name as well. The police had checked and, discovering his complete identity, had offered all facts to the newspaper for them to print.

"Man, oh man!"

Gabriella, still not comprehending, took the newspaper and read the headline: "Millionaire among guests at Orgy.

"Mama mia!"

"Out!" The boss pointed at the door. "Here in Italy we have such tremendous unemployment problems, and you, a foreigner possessing millions, work here, taking the bread out of some poor unemployed fellow's mouth. Out with you and I shall not pay you for the time put in here either!"

The young girl posed, flinging her big behind backwards and her tremendous breasts forward. "Hey, skinny!" She sneered at Gabriella. "How does it feel to screw a millionaire?"

Gabriella ignored her. "Hugh, you better leave. They will tell the police."

Hugh wrote his address in London on a piece of paper and gave it to her. "I don't know where I'll go now, maybe Rome, but if you want to, get in touch with me."

She was sobbing as she took the paper. "Goodbye, Hugh."

The young girl followed him out into the streets. "Your fault, rich man, for choosing the wrong woman to sleep with. I would have kept my mouth shut if you had picked me."

"Oh, you cunt!" He slapped her hard in the face. Instead of flinching the girl took the slap with a smile, her tremendous breasts bouncing. That was when Hugh knew exactly what she wanted. "Ahh, bitch, fucking me up because your pride demanded that I bang you instead of Gabriella. All right, come on!"

She looked back at the office. "My job!"

But he had her wrist captured and was pulling her down the street. "Where in hell do you live? We're going there now."

Her name was Silvana. This was all he knew about her, other than the fact that her room was too small, the bed too small, and her body, once stripped of clothing, too big! This girl had placed him among the ranks of the unemployed and since apparently employment did not suit him he was going to become once more a member of the idle rich. Here he was, a rich man about to fuck a poor girl.

Their first joining was smooth. Her big, over-ripe young body bucked under his as Hugh jabbed his prick in hard. He went into long, smooth movements, penetrating her deeper, making her cream easily but, surprisingly, silently. Instead of falling back to rest as women usually do after climaxing, Silvana tortured him with a rhythmic, up thrusting action. He rode her like a primitive man, out to destroy the thing giving him pleasure. Up, down, in, out, slamming the sausage until she yelled that her vagina would burst. Yet when she came this time she shouted out her climax and begged him to ravage her more. She arched, opening her big legs wider, rolling her ass, enabling him to burrow deeper.

"Ohh, punish me, punish me! I got you fired!" She locked her legs in his and worked to the pace of his merciless, driving pole. He hammered her willingly, glad to feel her fantastic body squirming in the flames of his lust.

Her vagina fluttered and burst again, causing her to gyrate the big ass and writhe her upper torso. Hugh flattened his palms on the bed and, looking down into the young girl's pain-filled face, raised and lowered himself, sinking the shaft deep, rubbing their matted pubic hairs crisply together.

One spasm of joy was joined by another and, with pleasures so linked as to make her come again and again, young Silvana was torn repeatedly by violent spasms. He had to redouble his speed just to remain in her.

"Ohh, come, come! Finito, per favore!"

"I can't! I ... don't ... want ... to!"

"Aggghhh, can you fuck!"

He would pull out and then impale her in a rapid motion, going into the oiled hole, parting the cunt lips, sinking into the softness to the hilt. Each time as he rose she sighed, because a great weight had been lifted. Right where he would rest the balled tip bubbles of juice oozed out of her sopping wet quim. Then a deep jab, slow, teasing, all the way in to give that greedy snatch a thorough reaming.

Hugh felt his manhood broadening and, lunging at her with all the strength he could muster, he shot. She could only lie there, helpless, while his dick flowed, showering her insides. He gasped as his penis coughed out a few more drops of juice. Slumping upon the girl he lay still, emptied of all ammunition.

Later she said: "I shall get back to the office, but you remain here. Do you hear?"

Silvana did not wash but simply pulled her panties on up the big, somewhat fat legs over the forest of come-splattered hair and the magnificent ass. At once the panties were stained and when she pulled the flimsy dress over her damp body with those tremendous breasts, now sweated over like sprayed fruit, the garment absorbed her sweat. She left, carrying the odor of numerous climaxes.

A good fuck, but then so was Gabriella, and before her the middle-aged Countess, and luscious Claudia and young Jane. Jennifer? Well, her trouble was inexperience; but the best of all had been his sister Louise.

Hugh washed, dressed and left, knowing he was going back to London. If things did not work out there he would return to New York. After that, well, who cares? One thing for sure, he was leaving this country.

Late at night his plane landed at Heathrow Airport, London. He took a cab directly to his house and was greeted, by the doorman and another flunky on duty, like visiting royalty. Yes, he told them, he was back, but for how long was anybody's guess.

"And my sister? Or my fiancées?"

The two men looked at each other and shrugged, not having any idea.

Hugh found the apartment stuffy, not lived in. The women must have taken their lesbian act elsewhere. He opened windows, undressed and lay down in his too-wide bed, thinking of all the narrow beds he had slept in since leaving here. He considered that since he had shown some talent at the travel agency he might open his own in London.

He slept and dreamed that a full-bodied girl had entered the room like a sylph, removed her garments and gotten into bed with him.

But when he turned over on his side, moaning, his hand fell upon two thrusting breasts and a very female leg stretched across his body. He opened his eyes, ready to cry out, and found himself facing a naked Louise.

"You!"

"Your sister, your lover!"

He could not believe it, but she was there, warm, alive, rounded and as always enticing.

"Now look, Louise, we can't start this game again." But even as he protested he was playing with her, feeling her luscious buttocks, digging his fingers into the rounded ass.

She took the position he always favored, straddling him, spreading her thighs wide and sinking down upon the club that seemed to split her apart.

"Ooo, my man! I have slept with so many since you left but ... ahhhh, you're still the best."

His sister hesitated, using her knees to guide her weight, balancing herself on her lovely, always shapely thighs. There, there, she was getting it all in, the balled tip, the full length. All!

He closed his eyes as he was taken up into the cave of paradise. The moist opening employed strong suction, the lips clamped tightly and the nubby clitoris exerted pressure. Ahhh, yeahhh, he was gasping, he was stiffening all over and muscle spasms sent him going up into a weird rhythm.

Louise twisted snake-like, wringing the penis, threading her hole like a nut over a bolt, obtaining the greatest amount of pleasure possible. Hard, like a rodeo participant, she rode him, sighing as his body rolled between her quivering thighs.

"Ahhh, brother mine!"

Her cry was followed by violent motions and she collapsed just as he arched, unleashing a flood of joy. He gripped her arms to haul himself up as he climaxed, shouting into her face.

"I am finished!"

"But l am not finished!"

Swiftly, before the fire was doused in her brother, Louise took the sixty-nine position. Her twitching buttocks were glued to his face. Her head went down between his opened thighs to tackle the not yet limp instrument. And he behaved as expected, washing her privates clean.

The two people called upon their remaining sexual energies to make savages of each other, and they fought as orgasms rocked them. The rounded backside kept hammering against his forehead as the girl's pleasure kept building up.

Afterwards, finished as they were, there was nothing more to be done in the name of passion. Separating they fell back, sleeping at once in the position in which they had fallen.

But the morning brought something new and unexpected into Hugh's life. He felt fingers fumbling at his thighs and then an ache shot up his shaft. Sharp tips of a female's nails scratched his erected tool and he blinked the sleep from his eyes, to find not Louise fellating him but his ex-fiancée, Jennifer!

"Hey!" Nearby Louise slept soundly, snoring, while the dark-haired Jennifer chewed him up, her teeth holding his manhood firmly in position while her lips worked it over.

Jennifer's slender, big-titled body trembled with hot emotion. He spread his legs apart and moved his hips forward, shoving his thing deeper within her mouth. She sucked until the trembling started. The hot and cold chills caused by her tongue had him quivering uncontrollably as he came. Then it was over and he was lying back, thinking this was crazy.

She spat out the joy juice. "Welcome back. We're going to make an infernal trio. You, me, your sister."

Hugh could only groan.



The End
