BH-6498  The Cock-Sure Reporter
(Isaac Cox)


INTRODUCTION 

The publication of The Reluctant Sister marks an unusual and highly 
gratifying triumph for the publishers of Dansk Blue Books. The eminent 
scholar and author of many erudite tomes known only to specialists in his 
own field, Professor Isaac Cox has long been a close personal friend of 
ours-but has openly never quite considered us as players in his intellectual 
league. For months-in fact, for years-we have attempted to persuade him to 
write for us, but of course we could not presume too far on the grounds of 
deep camaraderie and mutual respect alone. Professor Cox was more than ready 
to concede that we knew the commercial book publishing field better than he 
did but he was not willing to admit that there was any significant degree of 
overlap in the audiences to which we were addressing ourselves. 

It was only after the first several Dansk Blue Books were off the presses 
and in the hands of the reading public that Professor Cox came to us 
voluntarily, admitted that he had been wrong about the scope of our 
ambitions, and actually asked to be permitted to write a Dansk novel 
himself. We hope and believe our pleasure is not that felt over a mere petty 
victory; we sincerely think that it is a tremendously important victory for 
all concerned when a man of the stature of Professor Cox realizes how 
important a medium the so-called popular novel can be. 

It was only to be expected that, having once made up his mind to tackle the 
job at all, Professor Cox would produce a multi-faceted gem of a novel about 
the ongoing social change in Southern California's suburban communities. 
Primarily a motivational sociologist, Cox believes that the changing mores 
of the nation tend to follow the lead of this part of our great Western 
state. 

The profession probably most representative of a culture, Professor Cox 
further believes, is journalism; and so he has chosen to tell the story of 
The Reluctant Sister, the true-to-life tale of a young female reporter 
through whose eyes the reader is permitted to glimpse the cultural 
adjustments Americans are making under the pressure of the advanced 
technology which motivates their lives and corrupts their environments. 

Not since The Front Page has the newspaper business been so thoroughly and 
accurately portrayed; not since Citizen Kane have its effects on the lives 
of all of our citizens been so graphically limned; and not since Nathanael 
West's Miss Lonelyhearts and The Day of the Locust has so much knowledge of 
both journalism and Southern California been made important use of by a 
major writer. Rarely has society and its effects upon the individual been so 
starkly described as they are here, and even more rarely has an author 
compressed so much social comment and philosophical observation into one 
novel. 

It is almost impossible, in fact, to recall any work of fiction so dedicated 
to the study of a whole society in microcosm. Every aspect of our present 
transition into a new and radically altered society is considered by 
Professor Cox in this book. Based on first-hand experience as well as 
methodical and intensive research, The Reluctant Sister describes the full 
range of psychological harm done to the human animal during his sojourn on 
this smog-enshrouded planet. 

Where is man going? Professor Cox hardly dares to guess but, in this account 
of man in flux as he rides the mainstream of life in a small city, the 
author notes with precise care the melding of classes formerly separated by 
financial barriers, the breakdown of the individual's work orientation, and 
the still-rigid cliquishness of far too many of America's social and racial 
groups. 

And, in all of this, where is the morality of our fathers? Where have the 
comfortable old days gone and what has replaced them? Money grubbing would 
seem to be a good answer, if a superficial one. There is more, however, as 
Professor Cox entertainingly but thought-provokingly points out in the story 
of Nan Flanders, 18-year-old girl reporter-or sob sister, if you will. 

The individual still exists. Though he may be caught in the inexorable tide 
of human passion and inhuman attitudes and poses, the individual always 
shines through like a glint of metal in the oily muck of progress. 

This work stands out as one of those rare shouts of sanity in today's 
madhouse of highspeed communications. It is a stern and sober warning of 
things to come. It is a socially significant and highly successful attempt 
to show graphically the ills, the evils, the weaknesses and the overwhelming 
perversion of man's ambitions and ideals in today's restless and confused 
rat race of a world. 

The publishers, therefore, consider it a signal honor to be allowed to 
broadcast this message, and we hope that it is heard the world over. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

Nan Flanders was exuberant. Today she was given her first real assignment. 
As the New Toronto Gazette's cub reporter, she had thus far covered school 
board meetings, bird and bug club gatherings and ladies' teas. Now came her 
big chance! 

Nan, at eighteen years of age, was lovely to behold. Male members of the 
small Southern California daily had panted after her form from the first 
moment she stepped into the newsroom as a bonafide employee... all to no 
avail. Nan resisted their wiles while at the same time increasing their 
determination. 

Her refusal to surrender to their most ardent entreaties was not through any 
puritanical instinct. Nan was a virgin by choice and despite close brushes 
with complete surrender she had always drawn upon some inner strength which 
caused the suitor of the moment no small amount of frustration. Nan had no 
illusions. She knew that someday, sooner or later, a man would come along to 
whom she would give herself completely. She had only one reservation in the 
back of her mind and that was that she must be sure she loved him. It was 
her one strength... or weakness. 

Mae Gail Jetty, the town's one and only claim to fame, had been killed in a 
plane crash Sunday night. It was now Monday morning and Nan's city editor 
had assigned her to dig up all the background she could find on the late 
millionairess and philanthropist. The New Toronto Gazette wanted to run an 
extensive, in-depth feature story on the late Mrs. Jetty. 

Nan skimmed through the Gazette's chintzy morgue and managed to find a few 
names connected with the globe-trotting Mrs. Jetty. She also read every bit 
of information the files held regarding Mrs. Jetty herself. 

Mae Gail DiMintri was born February 17, 1925 to parents of moderate income 
and unspectacular accomplishments. Her early childhood was a blank. Nothing 
in the files indicated exactly what took place in Mae's New Toronto school 
days until she reached the second year of high school. Then a small clipping 
revealed that her interest seemed to indicate a natural bent for business 
and finance. The clipping noted that she had won an award in a statewide 
contest for the best student written essay on economic change in a wartime 
democracy. That had been in 1941, only two months before the attack on Pearl 
Harbor. 

About this time Mrs. Jetty became involved with the son of a local banker, 
Paul Hanley. Paul was twenty-three when he first met the beguiling Mae who 
was sixteen. Paul was 4-F which left him on the home front to woo and sin 
many a lass whose boyfriends were off to the war. 1942 was a good year for 
the charming and personable Hanley. He had just graduated from Clavey 
College where he had distinguished himself in business administration. His 
flashy 1941 model convertible was one of the few in town and the lonesome 
young females were ripe for plucking... plucking, that is. 

None of the information in the files indicated to Nan any such goings-on and 
all Nan could really ascertain was that Mae had evidently been tutored by 
Hanley in the ways of the business world. Several clippings told of smaller 
financial coups credited to Mae before she reached the age of twenty-five. 
Always, it seemed, Paul Hanley was in the background. His guiding hand was 
ever present. 

Nan had the first lead on her big story. She would contact Hanley and 
arrange an interview that day. She was certain he was capable of giving her 
much information on the early money-making days of Mrs. Jetty. Then, too, he 
might be able to give her names of other persons who could contribute to the 
New Toronto Gazette's story of the year. 

Nan's editor, John Lopez, was about Mae's age and had lived in New Toronto 
since the war, but said he knew nothing about Mrs. Jetty except that she was 
rich and generous. He showed her clippings from his private file. 

"Read these before you start interviewing people," he said, handing her the 
neatly trimmed stack of old news stories. She spent an hour going through 
them, taking notes as she read. They were all pretty much the same thing: 
descriptions of Mrs. Jetty endowing an education fund for ghetto dwellers 
and financing orphanages and libraries. She had built hospitals all over the 
world; had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars helping the American 
Indian; had tried in her travels to drop a little silver into every poverty 
pocket she passed; and generally had spent her tremendous wealth on everyone 
but herself. 

"There's more to her life," Lopez told her when she brought the clippings 
back to his office, "but it's mostly gossip. All I know is there used to be 
some wild times around New Toronto when she lived here," he grinned 
lecherously. He always grinned lecherously, Nan thought. It's the only way 
he knows how to grin. 

"I don't know if she was involved in it," he added, "because frankly, I 
wouldn't know Mae Gail Jetty if I sat on her... you should pardon the 
expression." Nan winced and her reaction drew a nasty guffaw from him. 

"You have until Saturday to hand in a story for the Sunday supplement," he 
said, looking at her in a way that made Nan's skin crawl. If Mr. Lopez half 
tried, thought Nan, he could really be a dirty old man. His eyes seemed to 
devour her. 

She told him where she was going and then headed for the home of Paul 
Hanley. 

Paul Hanley owned a huge house in the rich section of town. He didn't live 
in the house, however, because he realized a nice profit by leasing it. He 
lived at the rear portion of the property in what in the old days had been 
servants' quarters above a spacious garage. 

Hanley was fifty-three and still fancied himself a lady killer. His graying 
black hair added to the distinguished appearance which was only slightly 
marred by the beginning of a paunch. He had little cause to work anymore 
though he still kept an office in town. Most of his time was spent 
exercising his limber muscles and looking around Southern California for 
virgins to seduce. All of his adult life had been spent in that search and 
he could verify what he described as fifteen kills, starting with Mae Gail 
DiMintri all those years ago. Hanley did not, of course, ignore other 
women-dozens of them knew his private gate and the back stairs to his 
apartment-but he always had an eye out for a susceptible virgin. 

He was sure he saw one now; a very small girl was walking up the driveway, 
her blue minidress giving the hint of luscious curves and very large, full 
breasts. She lilted as she walked and Paul Hanley knew that only a virgin 
could suggest such depth of innocence merely by her gait. Her hair was 
bright red and her flesh seemed to give off a reddish aura. He guessed who 
she was; the girl reporter who had called him that morning. Yes, that was 
the voice of a virgin... it had made Paul's skin crawl just to hear it. 

He watched her from his living-room window as she clicked her high heels 
down the driveway... She was tiny but her legs were magnificent and her walk 
had a swing to it that made every curve and crevice show even though she 
obviously wasn't aware of it. When she turned to start up his front stairs, 
he saw and measured the shape and fullness of her lovely young ass beneath 
the thin material of her dress. Where my eyes are now, he told himself, my 
hands soon will be. 

He listened to her feet on the neatly painted wooden stairs as he opened his 
liquor cabinet and placed a small, white pill behind a Scotch bottle. The 
soft chimes sounded as she punched the doorbell, and he walked slowly to the 
door. 

"Miss Flanders?" he said, ushering her in. Her face was equal to the rest of 
her. She was beautiful, and she was a virgin or his name wasn't Paul Hanley, 
the hymen breaker, now looking for number sixteen. 

"I am sorry you had to climb those stairs, Miss Flanders. Let me get you a 
drink." 

Before Nan could say anything the fatherly appearing Paul Hanley had seated 
her on the couch and handed her an ice-filled glass of Scotch and soda. 

The room seemed inexplicably dark to her. Curtains filtered the midday 
sunlight and only one lamp was burning, its soft glow causing sparkles to 
glint from the bottles and glasses on the liquor cabinet beneath it. The 
room was expensively furnished and every inch a man's study; all leather and 
darkly gleaming wood. 

He sat next to her and pulled a coffee table closer to them for their 
drinks. 

She took a notebook from her purse. "I'm trying to find out all I can about 
Mrs. Jetty," she said as businesslike as possible. His closeness made her a 
little nervous. 

His body seemed to stiffen at her remark. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. 
"Were the two of you very close?" 

"It's all right," he said. "I think I can talk about poor Mae. She was a 
wonderful woman, you know... but her death... was so recent." 

His face seemed to Nan that of a father who had lost a daughter, its 
expression so deeply sad and yet brave. She reached out almost involuntarily 
and touched him. He immediately clutched her hand in both of his. 

"You... you're obviously a very understanding person," he said, "despite 
your youth." 

Nan was touched and she felt herself blushing. No older person had ever 
given her credit for being understanding... and Mr. Hanley was such a 
fatherly looking and kind man. 

I've got you, you little cunt! Hanley was thinking. He watched how she sat, 
pressing her legs together and primly holding her untouched drink balanced 
on one knee while her notebook sat uselessly beside her. Press your 
beautiful thighs against that untouched pussy, a voice inside him was 
screaming. I'll be there... and damn soon. This looks easier than I 
thought... easier even than Mae had been. 

"I kind of get the feeling that Mrs. Jetty was like a daughter to you," Nan 
said tentatively, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Well, not exactly," Hanley said. "More like a friend. We were partners, you 
know... long ago we were partners in business... and in other... 
activities." 

"What sort of... uh... activities... if you don't mind my asking?" 

"Life itself, my child. All the activities that make life worth living were 
shared between that darling girl and me. You must drink your drink, my dear, 
or the ice will melt and ruin it." 

Mr. Hanley wasn't much older that her editor, thought Nan, but what a 
difference. Old Lopez with his leering eyes and his dirty stories was no 
equal to this man, who was apparently so human, and yet so worldly. It must 
be his broad experience in life that made him affect her this way... made 
her feel safe and somehow warm. She finished her drink and put it down. 

He was up like a cat, though she hardly noticed his movement as being overly 
fast, so enchanted with him was she. 

"One more drink before we talk," he said. He walked noiselessly to the bar. 
As fresh ice tinkled into the glass, the small white pill went in too. A 
little time, he thought, to let it melt... a little more Scotch in this one. 
She's almost ready. We'll start with a little of Mae's favorite pornographic 
art and then up that virgin cunt we go. 

Fixing his face in the fatherly look that she seemed to appreciate, he 
turned to her again. "Just the other day I received a gift from Mae... from 
the Orient," he said. "There on the table." 

He indicated a large book on Indian temples. Nan picked it up. It was heavy 
and she set its back in the crevice of her legs and opened it. 

"Mae was a great believer in all facets of life," said Hanley, wishing the 
pill would melt a little faster. "Just like the Hindus, she wanted every act 
of man to be honored for itself." As he watched her face, she began to blush 
again, this time more deeply. 

She had opened the book in the middle somewhere and the pages she saw on her 
lap contained two views of an old temple that was ringed for decoration, she 
supposed, by row upon row of human statues, men and women, engaged for all 
time in every possible act of sex. All around the temple, these lifeless 
rocks had their lithic members inserted halfway into lithic cavities, anal 
and oral as well as vulval. 

He sat next to her, this time even closer, and handed her another drink. She 
could feel his closeness now but was too overwhelmed by what she was looking 
at to be wary of him. "You need this, apparently," meaning the drink, "but 
you mustn't be shocked," his fatherly smile assured her, "at this ancient 
and very respected monument to man's most delightful activity... Mae would 
be in full accord with me when I say that what you see there are acts as 
holy as any prayer... for, in fact, this is a holy temple dedicated to an 
ancient and very important pantheon." 

He placed his body against her and put his arm around her to help her hold 
the book up. He turned a page and Nan almost gasped to see that close-ups of 
the statues that were printed there. 

"You see the deep respect for their subject the artists had when they carved 
this holy relic. Only a virgin would fail to appreciate the full impact, the 
full meaning... but you must drink your drink, my child. And then we'll 
discuss more of Mae's hobbies and thoughts." 

Nan, lost in confusion and shock, didn't have the presence of mind not to 
obey. She downed her drink in one gulp and set the glass on the table. It 
was Hanley's turn to gasp. He had never seen anyone take the whole pill all 
at once. God only knows what would happen now. 

Nan closed the book, trying to keep her mind on business, to crowd out the 
images of those stone fornicators. Fumbling for her notebook, she started to 
ask him something, but just then a volcano erupted in her stomach. Hot lava 
flowed through her, sending heat right out to her fingers and toes, but 
centering in her pelvis and now moving slowly into her vagina. She was 
afraid to look for fear smoke would be rising from her lap. 

"You drank too fast," he said, moving his arm... "Oops! I'm terribly sorry." 
He had spilled his drink down the front of her dress and Nan, emotionally 
flustered by the heat raging through her, began to cry. 

She felt the cold liquid slide down the hollow between her breasts, then 
over her belly, finally into her panties and down all the way into her pubic 
hair and between her legs. Her nether lips were so hot from the recent 
explosion in her insides that she was surprised the liquid didn't sizzle 
when she felt its freezing cold inundate her cunt. A little ice cube-filled 
puddle lay in her lap. 

"You must get out of those wet things," Hanley said, his voice dripping with 
fatherly concern. '"You poor thing, you could catch your death." 

She looked at him, her face a study in desperate confusion and, he could 
see, underlying passion brought about by his own secret cure for virginity. 
Over the years, that little white pill has served him well... and most of 
them blamed themselves so he got them at least one more time when they came 
back to apologize. 

"In the other room," he instructed, "you'll find a nice warm robe. We can 
put your things in the dryer while we talk." He was using a handy towel to 
pat and dry her lap... lovingly, he stroked the thighs under her dress and, 
like a good mother hen, admonished her to hurry and get into something warm. 

Hanley kept his air conditioner on high for such occasions as these, and Nan 
was freezing by the time he had finished drying her off. Beginning to be 
suspicious of his motives, she was almost afraid to go into the next room 
for fear it would be a bedroom and for fear that she would not be alone in 
there for long. 

It was not a bedroom, she was relieved to discover when she had closed the 
door behind her, and he hadn't even made a move to pursue her. Guilt flowed 
through her for thinking evil of Hanley who, after all, was only trying to 
help her get to know Mae as he had. Such intimate knowledge was extremely 
valuable. 

The room was an office. It was connected to a bathroom and beyond that to 
the bedroom. By handy chance, it seemed to her, a large man's robe was 
thrown over a typewriter on the room's only piece of furniture, a table. The 
muscles of her pelvis agitated her movements as she undressed. She couldn't 
understand why they dilated and contracted in a motion equal to her pulse; 
she couldn't understand the strange heat that suffused her crotch and made 
her pubic lips quiver as if in anticipation; she couldn't understand the 
hollow aching in her vaginal regions. 

She came back with the robe wrapped around her, completely covering the 
naked morsel within it. Hanley smiled warmly as he took her wet clothes. 
When they were safely in the dryer and the machine set to run for too short 
a time, he came back and mixed them two more drinks. Now it starts, he 
thought gleefully... the last act. 

He sat close to her and began to tell her about Mae Gail Jetty's rise to 
financial success. He wrote out a list for her of other people in town who 
had known Mae. He talked for several minutes, and appeared very engrossed in 
his subject-then he stopped. Nan's crotch was a seething cauldron. The 
terrible aching in it was expanding all the way up to the pit of her 
stomach. A great hard knot seemed to be forming in her tummy and she was at 
a loss to explain to herself the churning desire between her thighs. 

"My, dear, I can't help noticing that you're squirming. Do I make you 
uncomfortable?" He put a comforting arm around her. 

"No. I don't know what's wrong." 

"Does your stomach bother you... perhaps the drink is too heady..." his hand 
went into the robe and began to massage the bare flesh of her belly. 

His touch made her jump as it resounded through her, cell by cell, awakening 
something that had lain dormant all her life. She could feel whole new sets 
of muscles working within her, trying to gain expression on their own, 
apparently whether or not she wanted to allow it. A flexing and relaxing 
motion in her crotch was causing her to wriggle where she sat, as if her 
hind end was trying to rut itself into the cushion. 

Her first thought was to hit him and try to make a run for it, clothes or no 
clothes. She only had to make it to her car and then drive home to get a new 
dress. But something wouldn't let her do anything to stop him. Two opposing 
points of view struggled in her guts, one warning her she was about to be 
raped, the other pooh-poohing the whole idea, declaring that a nice man like 
Mr. Hanley would never do anything to hurt her. She honestly didn't know how 
to react. She knew, however, that she had better do something, so she said, 
"Oh. That feels good. That feels much better... very soothing... I don't 
know what's come over me." 

His warm hand was a welcome sensation on her chilly flesh. He rubbed slowly, 
his hand making an ever-widening circle until she tingled to feel it touch 
her pubic hair on the down-sweep and both her breasts on the upsweep. 

Like her crotch, her breasts were throbbing in an ever-tightening ache. She 
could feel them getting harder each time his circling hand touched them. 
He's doing that on purpose, she thought. He doesn't have to rub everything 
I've got; it was just my tummy we were talking about. It was no use thinking 
about it or offering any objections to it, however, because her breasts were 
thickening with longing and seemed to want to be touched, rubbed, massaged, 
and even... their painful swelling brought her to another small crisis and 
she couldn't help herself-was even surprised to hear herself-when she cried, 
"Oh, Mr. Hanley, would you... could you... would it be awful of me..." 

"My poor child, what is it?" 

"It's only... I don't know... My breasts do ache so..." 

"Why certainly," he agreed readily. 

Opening the robe, he exposed two large, round, full white, pink-tipped, 
hardening breasts that throbbed to the touch of his hands, both of which now 
went to work to massage those ripe young elastic bulbs. 

"Ooooohhh," she moaned. "I never felt so goooood." 

Nan could feel his hot hands kneading and plying the foam-backed flesh of 
her breasts. It sent warmth through her whole being as he worked around 
them, cupping them so that only the red nipples stuck out, pressing them 
together to rub one nipple against the other until they became so hard she 
was afraid they would shatter like two glass knobs. 

Then he placed both palms over the nipples and pressed them in a circular 
motion as if trying to rub her breasts back into her chest. When he let go 
they sprang back into shape and he cupped them again so that the nipples 
looked out between each thumb and forefinger. She was fascinated, watching 
his manipulations with glazed eyes. Then she saw his face move closer, then 
the top of his graying head as she at once smelled his hair oil and felt her 
left nipple enter something warm and wet. 

Hanley kept his eyes open and saw then blue veins in the flesh of her chest 
and breasts and he began a gentle sucking of the nipple in his mouth. He 
worked his tongue on the nipple and shifted position to move more of the 
breast into his mouth while the tongue teased the nipple, licking from the 
bottom, then from the top and then in a swirling motion that made her body 
twitch in pain and pleasure. 

Nan felt a movement in her vagina with every pull of Hanley's rhythmically 
sucking mouth. The ache in the belly, rather than diminishing, was 
ballooning. She tingled all over, but didn't understand what was happening 
to her. She only knew it couldn't stop... if it stopped, she'd die. She had 
no other thoughts until his mouth took the other breast and she felt the 
cold air surround her abandoned left nipple as the moist warmth of him 
embraced the right. 

No, she cried from within: No. No. He's going to try to rape me. I've let 
him go too far. He's got to stop... even if the aching in my stomach kills 
me. 

"Please stop," she said weakly. "Please, Mr. Hanley. We're not animals... 
are we? We mustn't do this." 

His only answer was to bite her nipple, jerking a scream of pain from her. 
"Oooww. God, that hurts. Don't do it like that." 

But that wasn't all, she soon realized. She was relaxed so thoroughly that 
her firmly closed legs had fallen laxly apart and his probing hand darted 
between her thighs, one finger rubbing the lips of her cunt from just inside 
them. It tried to enter her but she was sitting and he couldn't get his fist 
deep enough between her now clamping thighs. She felt the juices of her cunt 
laving his finger as it moved up one lip to the front and down the other all 
the way to the back of her precious opening. Back and forth it went sliding 
in her lubricating fluids, constantly pressuring to enter her and seek out 
her clitoris as his shoulder pressed against her, trying to force her into a 
lying position, and his mouth sucked at her breasts, alternately taking each 
into it and holding it so that his tongue could renew its attack on her 
nipple. 

A tremendous throbbing was coming from her pubic muscles. She could feel her 
vagina open and close, fairly wriggling to get at the finger now trying to 
enter her. She knew she couldn't resist much longer and, loathing her own 
weakness, she began sliding down the couch's support cushions to lie on her 
back. 

The throbbing inside her was now out of control, unstoppable and 
uncontainable, in the deep unentered recesses of her womb. She wanted to 
feel his penis inside her; she knew now that what she wanted was described 
by that ugly, awful word she had never mouthed. She wanted to be fucked, had 
to be fucked... if that was what would quiet her raging insides... even to 
be raped. 

Hanley sensed her going down. With one last push, he had her on her back and 
was immediately on top of her and between her rising knees. He swept open 
the robe and drew in his breath at the rare beauty before him. Her flesh 
seemed to be a golden red and gave off an aura of that color. Her full, 
round breasts stood straight up, so hard were they, and throbbed out the 
meter of lust. The belly button centered in her soft white belly was an eye 
of desire; the red hairs of her pubic vee sent rosy invitations all the way 
through him down to his dancing prick, still imprisoned by his trousers. The 
hair between her legs curled around a virgin's cunt that, due to the 
aphrodisiac he had given her, called him with trembling red lips. His 
clothes practically flew off his body of their own accord and his prick 
leaped up to answer the call. It stood out erect and pulsating, its slit 
offering a drop of lubricant to the goddess cavern trying to open itself to 
his planned thrust. 

Nan, through passion-hazed eyes, saw him throw away his shirt before she 
realized his pants were already on the floor. Then she saw his prick... that 
first one she had ever seen. Its head was purple-red and slimy from his 
juices-she wondered if he had already cum-its thick shaft was distended with 
blue veins and the whole thing jerked up and down in rhythm with his pulse 
just as her womb seemed to be opening and closing with hers. His foreskin 
had already been pulled back and the little slit in the head of his prick 
seemed to be opening, creating such a hole that she thought she could have 
inserted her little finger into it. 

Despite the condition of his lust-filled member, Paul was in control of 
himself. He leaned over her, caressing her breasts again. They were by now 
painfully sensitive, but his touch felt good. She lay there with her eyes 
closed, waiting for something else to happen. She was afire but also scared, 
and she lay, her eyes wide open now with as much fear as desire, like some 
poor helpless creature of the jungle confronted by a killer snake. 

Paul moved over her, letting go of her breasts. She closed her eyes again, 
not knowing what to do. He kissed her belly, licking furtively into her 
belly button, then continued down... down. She started to grit her teeth 
when she felt the first gentle kiss of his hot lips against her hungry 
virginal cunt. She almost went insane. He began to lick that aching slit, 
and the touch and feel of his wet tongue sent her into a new physical state 
of readiness. That's how it was, she thought, marveling, for she had never 
realized that there was so much to the sex act. She groaned and joyous 
ripples of pleasure spread out through her. Now Paul found the clitoris with 
his tongue and, licking as he went, moved down to her tightly puckered 
little anus. Then he changed technique, like the master he was, and his lips 
became a vacuum cleaner at her vagina. So powerful was his effort that she 
feared momentarily that he would suck every organ right out through her 
cunt. 

Then, with his hands strategically placed between her warm satiny thighs, he 
began opening with his thumbs the pink fringed slit so delicate-looking with 
its soft red hair, two tiny glistening droplets of moisture dampening the 
little pink inner petals that peeked out at him. Now a hideous lust came 
over him and showed in his face as Mr. Hyde finally emerged from the 
defeated Dr. Jekyll. 

Suddenly she wanted out from under him, wanted his laving tongue to get away 
from her virgin slit. But she lay seemingly rooted to the couch, her 
terror-filled eyes pleading, as he again placed his thumbs to rest on the 
soft, fleshy lips of her cunt and torturously drew them apart, spreading the 
soft curls of pubic hair and laying open her moist, coral-tinted secret 
flesh to his no longer paternal gaze. 

Nan now saw herself as if from outside her body and was repulsed at what she 
was allowing to happen. But her body wouldn't respond to her inner cries to 
escape. 

She cringed in revulsion as she felt the hot wisps of his breath graze her 
sensitive, virginal flesh, never before defiled, and she moaned aloud in 
hopeless shame, her head raised, her breath strangling in her throat as she 
heard him issue an animal grunt and saw his face drop... abruptly she felt 
the full length of his hot tongue plunge wetly up into her tight, quivering 
vaginal passage. She struggled but her own passion overwhelmed her. She 
closed her soft warm thighs convulsively around his moving head. She could 
feel his ears wiggling against the velvety inner thighs. She screamed 
unrestrainedly when he suddenly bit her sensitive clitoris. 

She was completely at his mercy. Nothing now existed but the insistent 
throbbing in her cunt and the tongue that now laved it with oral desires. 
Her back was arched like a bridge as it bent upward toward his eager lips. 
Her feet dug into the cushions beneath her and then she thought she felt 
something happening inside her, a new explosion like the one she so 
unexplainably experienced just a short while ago. 

Throwing her legs apart, she flailed them, kicking her feet in joy and lust 
and the volcano erupted again, not in her stomach this time but in her cunt, 
and she felt a release so deep it was almost spiritual wash down her passage 
into the mouth of her attacker. She collapsed, her legs falling on the 
couch. Thinking that was all, she stirred to get up, but felt him lifting 
her knees and pushing them up until they pressed against her softening 
breasts and the soles of her feet aimed right at the ceiling. She opened her 
eyes. His face was next to hers and he kissed her savagely; she tasted for 
the first time the honey of her own cunt and the singular acidic sweetness 
of her own cum. 

Gradually, Paul Hanley lowered himself onto her body. And now she could feel 
the hardness of that awesome male instrument down there where, only a minute 
before, her juices had flooded his soft hot mouth. She was about to be 
fucked-fucked like she had never imagined it would be... by a total 
stranger. The understanding of what was happening took over her drugged 
brain, but it didn't matter. She felt herself tensing, preparing for she 
knew not what. 

He was over her, holding her knees to her chest, his cock rubbing against 
her slime-washed cunt, now wide open and pulsing to his ravening eyes. His 
flesh was blotchy red with his age, and a little potbelly sagged from his 
middle, but his cock was only in its twenties by the look of it. Without 
using his hands, he moved its head into the yawning red slit. It lodged 
before the whole head was in, and would go no further despite the lungings 
of his hip and ass muscles. 

She felt like she was being split in two. Don't, she screamed to herself. 
"It's too big, Mr. Hanley," she pleaded. "You'll split me in two. Please 
don't try." 

"Never you mind," he said. "There's always a way." 

Gripping her knees again, he spread her legs as far as they would go, then 
pulled a cushion from the back of the couch and stuffed it under her hind 
end. "Hold your legs as far up and out as you can," he instructed, "and rest 
your beautiful bottom on this pillow." 

He let go her legs and, holding his prick with one hand while spreading her 
cuntlips with the fingers of the other, he relodged the head of his manroot 
and began pushing his way into her vital parts. After the first inch he 
stopped. "Hurt?" He looked at her. 

It had been painful, but she was afraid he would stop if she admitted it. 
"No. It's all right." 

He wiggled his hips more violently and worked in another inch. "Okay?" 

She was squirming in pain but could feel her cuntal walls adjusting to his 
size. "Keep going," she said. The soft rustling movement of his hairy 
scrotum against her tender, wide-open asshole was driving her crazy. With 
each of his movements, that pendulous cum-filled bag plopped on her dilating 
sphincter and cuddled her cheeks excitingly. 

Paul was about to lose all control. He felt her sheathing him tighter than 
any girl, even any virgin, had ever done. His prick seemed trapped and he 
didn't know if he had enough patience to continue working it in with slow 
massage and buildup of her juices. She had to stretch and, of course, she 
would stretch before he was through with her. She would open wide and 
swallow him down and the suction he could feel on his throbbing prick would 
become a tool to ultimately help use men as she wanted. She had the same 
type cunt that Mae used to have. And once you got into it you could never 
forget it. If this Nan Flanders ever learns how to work her vaginal muscles, 
she'll have hardons leaping at her from every doorway. 

He was in a third inch now and could feel her giving way to his prick, her 
passage now flowing again with encouraging juices. 

"Oh, it's much too big," she complained, tears of pain filling her eyes. He 
could tell it was hurting her so he worked it out and in again, trying to 
loosen her up. 

She could feel its massiveness inside her and she could tell it had a long 
way to go. But she couldn't take any more. It was just too big, or her poor 
battered pussy was just too small. As she felt him moving in and out, she 
rolled her hips to his rhythm. Looking down between her still erect breasts 
to her uplifted cunt, she could see as well as feel its lips straining to 
encompass him. His shaft, most of it still showing was red now and the veins 
stood out as he began flexing his prick to help her stretch to receive him. 

"Oh, God. What are you doing?" she cried. His prick jumped up a size with 
each flexing action and she could swear it grew even bigger after he relaxed 
it and flexed it again. Her pubic mouth was wide open for him but it didn't 
seem to be enough. He was lodged. Stuck. They were like two dogs hung up and 
the thought of two dogs doing just what she was doing with this man 
embarrassed her. 

Finally he stopped flexing his prick and, to her amazement, it slid a little 
deeper into her, shattering her virginity with utter finality and tearing at 
her womb with sharp pain which immediately subsided. 

"We're going to make it," he shouted and lunged with all his might driving 
into her untested vitals. 

"Aaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!!!" she screamed. 

He thrust it into her again, deeper this time, then pulled all the way out 
until the head of his prick touched her cuntlips and drove down again still 
deeper into her torn and bleeding vagina. 

"Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh. My God! Oh, my Gawd! Oooooooohhhhh, mmmmmmmyy 
gggaaaaaaaaaaaawwddd!" she screamed with each painful thrust. Each time he 
drew all the way out along her quivering passage and each time he slammed it 
to the hilt to the accompaniment of her screams and a sucking, slushing 
sound from her cunt. 

She writhed under him, the pain declining as a mountain of passion grew up 
to take its place. She felt it in and out of her, thrusting and retreating 
only to thrust again as her stretched cuntal walls closed on it again and 
again, her vagina sucking at it, trying to hold it, opening for it each time 
it pulled away and drove back in again. "Mmmyyyy gawd, it's gooood! Oh, 
don't ever stop! Fuck me," she said the word for the first time in her life. 
"Fuck me deeper and deeeper and deeeeeppeeerrr! Fuck meeeeeeeee!" 

Now a flaming, raging, throbbing, churning, boiling flood of passion took 
over her crotch. She rolled her hips to get him in deeper and then clamped 
her legs around his ass to keep him in. 

"Keep it up," he ordered gruffly. "I'm about to cum!" he shouted. 

"Oh, God! Not yet. Please not yet. Puuulease wait." 

Trying to hold it, Paul gaped downward at where his prick was slipping 
smoothly in and out of her unbelievably tight little cunt, concentrating on 
the spine-shattering sensation of the soft hair-lined folds of her clasping 
pussy as it clung to his furiously rampaging cock ramming with jackhammer 
force up into her. As he fucked her, he couldn't help thinking of all the 
things they could do together. He pictured himself holding her ears as his 
big cock filled her sucking mouth, he could almost feel her tongue willingly 
washing the slimy head of his throbbing prick; he could picture her on her 
hands and knees, glorying in her own nakedness as she rolled her thighs and 
moaned at his length entering her virgin asshole. But these thoughts didn't 
help him hold his cum. He couldn't help it, he was about to go off. 

She, too, knew that her time was here. Her whole insides seemed to broil 
with lust and she felt her final explosion was upon her. 

His balls shriveled up as they bounced against her asshole and she could 
feel his prick, now planted firmly inside her as their crotches slammed 
together in that final lunge, begin to jerk spastically as hot fluid spewed 
from it washing her insides in a warm and glorious bath. 

"I'm going to cuummm!" she shouted. 

"Aaaaaaahhh!" he shouted. 

"I'm there!" she screamed. "I... I'm... IIII'm 
ccccuummmmmmmiiinnnnnngggggg!" 

He spent into her before she could get started, but she had apparently made 
it even as his prick was diminishing. He was glad of that. If he made her 
cum her first time, she was likely to come back some day for more of the 
same. And she had a pussy he was going to want again and again. Leaving her 
on the couch, he went into the bathroom. 

Nan slept, still wrapped up in Paul Hanley's flannel robe. Her sleep was 
peaceful and deep and before Paul left the apartment he saw her smile in her 
sleep and softly moan as her body performed a gentle writhing dance. He left 
for his office, but intended to come back before she woke up. More of the 
same was in order, as far as he was concerned, and he would treat her to the 
best dinner in town. The only trouble was he didn't recover as fast as he 
used to and he needed a couple of hours in between sessions. In the old 
days, he thought... ah, but one grows old... the spirit is still willing, 
but the flesh needs hormone shots. Before leaving he wrote her a note just 
in case she woke up prior to his return and couldn't wait for him. 

When she woke up, Nan realized it was already late afternoon. She felt warm 
and lazy as she stretched and idly wondered where she was. Then the dull 
ache in her cunt reminded her as she sat up abruptly clutching the robe 
around her. She listened to the quiet apartment. Nothing. He must have gone 
out. She relaxed again for every muscle in her light young body had gone 
tense. Spreading the robe, she looked down at her poor battered pussy. It 
hurt from the lips all the way in and she rubbed her crotch tenderly, 
soothingly as she thought of what had happened. She didn't know whether to 
laugh or cry... she had saved it purposely for eighteen years to give to 
whomever she could find to love. Now this! Gone. Taken by a total stranger 
who just happened to know what he was doing. It was degrading. Gone. 
Forever. Her cherry was gone leaving only a few drops of blood and the crust 
of their mutual spend in her red pubic hair. 

Well, she finally realized, the world hasn't ended... and I've still got a 
job to do. There was a note on the coffee table. "My dear child," it read, 
"Thank you so much. Nothing is sweeter to an old man than the love of 
children. Your clothes are in the dryer. Please call or come to see me 
again. And I'll be happy to help you with your story-anytime. Paul." 

"Mr. Hanley," she said aloud, "I'm sure there's a name for you. I just 
haven't been around long enough to learn it." 

She got her clothes and went home, not forgetting to take with her the list 
of Mae's friends that Hanley had written. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

After a lengthy and luxurious bath in her own rented room, Nan looked at the 
list Hanley had written. There were four names: Art Teffler, Mrs. Maude 
DiMintri, Steve Edwards, and Mary Lipsher. Hanley had included comments with 
each name. Teffler he described as a useless wastrel whom Mae once endowed 
with a sizable nest egg. Because of her backing, Teffler, who was her 
cousin, was one of New Toronto's biggest landholders. His income is 
considerable, Hanley's note said, but not all of it comes from real 
estate... it is not known how he makes most of his money. Hanley wrote his 
belief that Teffler now was the owner of the mansion Mae Jetty lived in when 
she was a New Toronto resident. Teffler also was in charge of most of Mae's 
business and personal papers (Mae took copious notes, Hanley said) and it 
was supposed that the old mansion, now unoccupied, contained all of these. 

Nan decided she would give anything to get into that old house. Everything 
must be there, and if Mrs. Jetty really took notes on each occurrence of her 
life, all the gossip about her could be proven. 

If Mae was Paul Hanley's protege, Nan thought as she picked up the phone, 
she must have had a wild sex life. What an expose Nan could write... a den 
of sin right here in New Toronto. She could show the old lady for what she 
really was... an expensive prostitute. But was she really? Nan didn't know. 
And, if she was, what difference would it make? Look at all the good Mrs. 
Jetty had done. Oh, well, I'll worry about it later, Nan thought, and she 
dialed Art Teffler's number. 

The phone rang several times, and then: "Hello." It was a young woman's 
voice. 

"Hello," said Nan in her most businesslike tone, "is Mr. Teffler in?" 

The woman, instead of answering, emitted a shrieking giggle. "Stop it, you 
idiot. I'm on the phone," her voice said. 

There was some scuffling accompanied by more giggling from the woman and 
something in a man's voice. Nan could hear the phone being put down then 
picked up again. 

"Hello." It was a man this time, a young man with an edge of meanness in his 
voice and a taunting, snickering chuckle punctuating his greeting. 

"Hello, Mr. Teffler?" 

"Yeah, baby, this is Art. Watcha want?" 

Nan told him who she was, attempting by the professional tone of her voice 
to wipe the sneer out of his. She asked him for an appointment anyway. 

"You wanna talk about Mae?" 

"Yes. I need background material for a story to run this Sunday." 

"Business or personal?" 

"Beg pardon?" 

"You gonna write about her business or her personal life." 

"Both, I hope. I want all the information I can get." 

"Honey, you'll melt yer typewriter... but you sound all right to me. Why 
don't you come on over?" 

"Will tomorrow morning be all right?" 

"Morning starts at noon for me, baby. I'll be home 'til about five. 
Anytime." 

Tuesday morning Nan looked up Teffler in the paper's meager files. There 
wasn't much on him. He was in real estate and, despite his youth, seemed to 
be the biggest property owner in town. Mae Jetty apparently had signed 
everything over to him when she left twenty years ago, though he could 
hardly have been ten years old at the time. 

He lived in a new apartment house near the business section of the city. Nan 
understood the price of living there ran about 300 dollars a month... but 
not for Art Teffler, he owned it. 

The building was four stories high and Teffler lived on the top floor... the 
whole top floor. He really is rich, thought Nan as she stepped into an 
elevator outside the building... it went only to the fourth floor. The car 
rose into an enclosure and when the door opened she was apparently in his 
apartment. It was a large room, very much like a living room except that it 
didn't seem to be lived in. Its furnishings were plush, gaudy and 
impersonal, like a glorified meeting room which, she decided, must be what 
it was. 

A door in the far wall opened and a man, roughly thirty, wearing a 
screamingly bright orange shirt flared at the neck and tucked into 
tight-fitting blue velvet pants, stood in the opening beckoning to her. His 
clothes are in such bad taste that he belongs with the room, she thought, 
and walked toward him. 

"You must be the reporter," he said admiringly. "I thought all reporters 
were wasted little guys with green eyeshades." 

She answered as her eyes took him in at close range. This one was going to 
be worse than Hanley, she thought. His flared shirt hardly disguised the 
beginning of a drinker's paunch and his skin-tight pants didn't even try to 
hide the bulge at his crotch which, at his seeing her, was beginning to 
grow. 

"You are some doll," he said breathily. "C'mon in." 

"J-just for a minute," she said and stepped into the room almost tripping 
over the rug, it was so thick. 

"Minute, hell... we're gonna talk an' talk... an' talk." 

Nan wanted out. She had never seen such a hideously lecherous face. Not even 
Mr. Lopez could match it. His eyes already had her undressed and into 
position for God only knows what. 

"Really... I just need a few items..." She had forgotten about the story she 
wanted. His meaningful grin, his pudgy face, his greasy-looking mouth, even 
his prematurely thinning hair-all were obscene. She wanted to run, but the 
door had closed behind her and he had pressed a button on the wall, causing 
a permanent sounding click to be heard in the lock. 

"You wanna learn about Mae," he leered, "an' nobody nowhere knows about Mae 
like I do. I know everything: her business contacts, her ways of making 
money reproduce itself, her personal life... everything. I've even got a 
couple of her old diaphragms in my bedroom, just for old time's sake." 

"I d-don't think..." 

"That's right, baby, don't think. You let me do all the thinking. It always 
works out that way." He paused to leer again. "I can make things easy on 
you, you know. That guy from the Demeter paper has called me twice for 
background on Mae. You don't want me to cooperate with the opposition now, 
do you?" 

"No. I j-just c-can't..." 

"Yes you can, baby. And you're going to. After all, I'm a businessman. You 
want something from me... all you gotta do is pay for it." 

"I-I'm r-really not authorized to p-pay for news, Mr. Teffler. R-really, I'm 
not." 

"What I want, you can authorize all by yourself, beautiful." 

Nan could no longer stand. Her knees were buckling under her. There was a 
divan nearby and she sat down, breathing heavily. Her fear of this monstrous 
creature was mortal. She really thought she would faint. It kept her erect 
just to think what he could do to her if she were in a helpless condition. 
An image flashed through her mind of this slimy, rich creep ripping the 
clothes off her senseless body and raping her before she could regain 
consciousness. She fought off the weakness in her knees and the queasiness 
in her stomach by holding that image. 

"Of course," he suggested, "I could always call Lopez and tell him you were 
rude and insulting. Then I could give the story to that reporter... 
whatsisname... Stemfelder from the Demeter Telegram. I own a piece of the 
Telegram, you know. They'd sure like to squeeze into Lopez' circulation 
area." 

What he said was true, Nan knew. Demeter was only eleven miles from New 
Toronto and the Telegram had been pressuring the Gazette's news sources for 
the last two years. It was a cutthroat business and any reporter who lost a 
major story to the opposition would immediately be out of work. Not only 
that, but Aaron Stemfelder, the Telegram's top reporter, was one of the 
worst muckrackers in the business. He loved scandal and probably smelled one 
in the Mae Jetty story. Mrs. Jetty's name would be destroyed and, possibly, 
so might all her good works. Nan still wasn't sure that Mae's wild sex life, 
if, indeed, it had been wild, was important enough to destroy the 
humanitarian acts the woman had performed all over the world. 

Nan, still badly frightened, looked through tears in her eyes at the man 
before her. The bulge in his pants now extended halfway to his knee and, as 
he rocked back and forth on his heels and toes he favored her with an evil 
sneer and slowly rubbed his expanding penis. 

"W-What do you w-want?" 

"That depends on what you want," he answered smugly. Now he had her, he 
knew, and the pleasure of conquest raged through him in company with his 
vile passion. The minute he saw this beautiful cunt his prick started 
climbing out of his pants. He had watched her park her car and walk to the 
elevator; bright red hair, a green miniskirt, and a too prim white blouse 
that had to be stretched across those big, ripe melons. He was gonna get it 
into her one way or the other. The sight of her hand caused a return of his 
own singular malady; an itch on the head of his prick. It had cursed him 
with its agitation for as long as he could remember and only Mae Jetty had 
figured out how to stop its tingling torment. That had been when he was only 
nine years old! Old Mae really knew her stuff. 

Now he gazed at the diminutive redhead before him, cringing on his couch, 
her dress so short he could see to within a half inch of her crotch-she had 
completely forgotten to pull it down when she sat-and the big, full tits 
heaving with her gasping breath. I really scared the shit out of her, he 
laughed to himself. 

Nan was beside herself. This horrid man was staring at her almost glassily 
as he rubbed the thing growing down his leg. He was in position now to 
demand what he wanted of her... and she would have to comply because her 
living depended upon her ability to get news out of such people. She was 
beginning to believe that the wealthy were a scabrous bunch. 

"A-all I need is some i-information." she pleaded. "Well," he said, "for 
your information," and unzipped his pants, "here's what it'll cost you." A 
gigantic cock jumped out at her and dangled menacingly from its base, its 
blood-filled head jerking several inches up and down with each pulsebeat, 
its one eye glaring at her through drop after drop of filmy lubricant which 
would form and then fly off in the violence of his staffs motion. He stood 
with his hands on his hips and ordered: "On yer knees, you little cunt." 

She couldn't believe the size of his cock. It was half again as big as 
Hanley's. Her mouth went lax as she stared at it but she was repulsed by his 
order and sat where she was, not moving, her whole body stiffening with 
revulsion. 

"C'mon," he demanded again. "The head of my prick itches something awful. 
There's only one way to scratch it, and that's with the tongue of a sharp 
little bitch like you. Mae taught me that when I was nine." 

"What?" She couldn't believe that a well known and gracious lady such as Mae 
Jetty, no matter what her private life had been, would introduce an innocent 
child to such an ugly practice. 

"It's the truth," he said, reading her thoughts. "Now do you like your first 
lesson on Mae Gail Jetty? C'mon, you little bitch. Suck it!" 

"I-I c-can't." 

"You want a story?" 

"Y-y-yes..." 

"Then you waddle over here and suck a few gallons out of this. After yer 
through, we'll get naked and discuss the newspaper business." 

She was on her knees. The sight of his prick had begun to take effect on her 
senses... like a cobra dancing to the movement of the flutist, her face 
moved trancelike in an up and down rhythm and it approached the gyrating 
instrument. 

"Hurry, goddamnit! I can't stand the itching." 

He was telling the truth. The head of his prick itched as if from inside; it 
tingled enough to make the muscles of his belly crawl. It would drive him 
crazy if she didn't hurry. When she was within arm's reach of him, he 
grabbed her ears and forced her mouth over his throbbing, slimy prick. 

"Aaaaaahhhhh! That's it. Oh, that's the way. It's so warm and good." 

He had missed his aim at first and his goo-covered glans had jabbed her 
first in the nose and then in the right jowl, leaving its glistening prints. 

She had tried to screech when his rough fingers dug into the backs of her 
ears, but her suddenly filled mouth only passed a gurgling noise. Half of 
his huge prick was in her tiny speaking cavity. At first she was stunned, 
then afraid she would strangle, but after a few seconds she was ready for 
instructions-she just didn't know what to do with it. The first taste she 
got from it was her own face powder, then the bittersweet taste of his 
lubricant, and then another taste she couldn't identify though it seemed 
somehow familiar. Suddenly she recognized it:.. it was bath oil, the same 
kind she used. 

Her lips clamped down on the soft outer flesh of his staff feeling the hard 
ridges underneath as her tongue lay idly against the massive head. 

"You've got to lick it," he said through clenched teeth. 

"Murgle," she assented and began to work her saliva-coated oral member 
around the rubbery boulder in her mouth. She rubbed it on the split lower 
edge with the rough part of her tongue, purposely pressing as hard as 
possible in the hope that it would hurt and make him want to stop. 

"Aaaaaiiieeee! That's great. That's really great!" he screamed, his body 
writhing before her, his fingernails digging into her ears. 

"Ongle bungle," she complained. She tried to shake her head free of his grip 
but the motion her action created on the throbbing glans in her mouth sent 
him into new ecstasy. 

"Oh, my God, you're good. You're a natural, baby. All you need is a little 
more to work on," he shouted maliciously. And saying that, he flattened his 
hands on the back of her head and, clenching his buttocks, crammed his 
pulsating prick all the way home. 

"Nnnggglllnnnnngglllllnnnggglll!" She tried to scream but her throat was 
stopped by his giant rubbery, throbbing hunger. She couldn't even breath 
through her nose. She was sure this was the end... she would strangle to 
death, her face impaled on the salty prick of this grotesque excuse for a 
human being. Just when she thought she would faint, he pulled it out to its 
halfway depth again. 

"Phnfnfnfnfnfn," she sighed through her nose, able to breath again, but only 
just. 

"Now you've got to suck it," he ordered from what seemed like a long 
distance. 

She sucked. Holding the exposed part of his staff in one little hand and 
working the other into his pants to cup his tightening scrotum, she pulled 
with all her might at his prick. She had already discovered that this 
practice wasn't nearly so bad as she thought it was going to be. The only 
thing really wrong with it was that it didn't begin to satisfy her. Her poor 
cunt was hot and flowing with the juices of passion and she knew her bikini 
pants were sopping. She wanted to take them off but he wouldn't let go of 
her ears and she couldn't bring herself to release her grip on his 
passion-dancing prick or to drop his soft spongy balls in their velvety, 
hair-covered bag. 

She could feel her vaginal muscles pulsating just as they had at Hanley's 
the day before. They would take her over someday, she feared, she would lose 
control of them entirely. She sucked her hardest and began twisting her head 
right and left providing the prick with a screwing motion that sent quivers 
of pleasure through its owner. 

"Oh, Christ! Oh, shit! Oh, sweet Jesus Chriiist! It's so fucking good I 
can't believe it!" he hissed. 

Nan was on her knees, pressing her thighs together to keep her cum and her 
fluids from running down her legs. It was no use. She could feel the 
clinging wetness oozing out of her underpants and sliding in long rivulets 
down her legs. She sawed her tongue over his now expanding bulb, keeping the 
rough top of it in contact with his sensitive rubbery tissue. He squirmed 
and wiggled, letting out little screams and moans as she worked on him. It 
wasn't enough for her, she wanted to drive him mad. She moved her hands to 
the snaps of his pants and pulled them apart. She peeled him like a banana. 

He felt the cold rush of air on his balls, on his ass, and on his legs and 
when he looked down he was standing as if in a puddle formed by his 
trousers. The sight of her undressing him was all he could stand. Fireworks 
exploded inside him. He felt her hand cupped under his balls again and his 
throat filled with the slaver of a ravening beast. 

She gripped his staff and cupped his scrotum again, sucking with everything 
she had. Her breasts, captive in her bra, strained to escape as they grew 
thick and painfully hard. Her cunt was awash with juices, her whole insides 
felt like hot whipped cream... and it squeezed through her vulval lips into 
the waterlogged double-thick panty crotch, flooding to and from like a 
hungry ocean, dampening her puckered anus and dripping down her legs like 
melting ice. 

"I'm cuuummmmmmming!" he shouted. "Iiiimmmmmhcummminnnggg!" 

He was strangling her. Hot cream shot in repeated spurts... gallons at a 
time, it seemed, as the head of his prick sped past her tonsils, trying to 
reach into her very stomach. She gagged, but he wouldn't stop. He thrust 
again and again, spewing a few more quarts each time. She couldn't swallow 
it all; it washed back in a great white tide up the shaft and out her mouth. 
Finally, his passion's release caused him to relax and she pulled her head 
off the offending shaft. So tight did it fit into her tiny mouth, that a 
sucking noise followed by a loud, wet pop, marked its flight. 

She fell back gurgling with pain, her throat invaded with great draughts of 
his cum. He was on her immediately. 

"Drink it all!" he ordered. "There's some on your chin. Don't let it get 
away." 

Gasping for breath, she swallowed all she could with each gulp. With her 
index finger she coaxed slimy globules of his cum up from her chin into her 
mouth. His cum tasted like sweetened waffle batter. 

"Swallow it all, you sweet little bitch. Here's some in my crotch hair. Lick 
it out. Clean me up." 

"Waighghgh," she pleaded, gurglingly trying to say what. 

"C'mon. Lick me clean. My prick is gooey with the stuff." 

Finally she had her breath and had swallowed all that was in her throat. She 
got up on her knees again, her belly and vaginal regions in a boiling, 
churning turmoil. Her cunt ached for attention and her panties were heavy 
with her molten fluids. 

Like a dutiful dog, she lapped at his still erect penis. Then she nuzzled 
into the great bush at its base. It was sticky with his cum and she worked 
her tongue into the hairs, sucking the good white dollops into her mouth, 
his wet hair tickling her nose until she was finished. As she did this, she 
reached down and slid her pants to her knees, then stood up and stepped out 
of them. Her nylons were crusted with her drying juices and she pulled them 
off, kicking her shoes away. 

"That's right," he said, removing his shirt, "take it off... take it all 
off." 

She pulled her dress off, dropped it then reached back for her bra snaps. 
She was panting, she knew, and her cunt was roaring. Her fear of him now had 
been about equalized by the mounting flow of hot desire coursing through her 
despite anything she could do. She had actually enjoyed some of the last few 
minutes... with his thing in her mouth. It was ugly to think of but she had 
lived a little when she was sucking it. If only it was some man of her own 
choice it would be much better. 

His prick was dancing again, tossing shiny strings of lubricant up, down and 
all around. The purple head was shining with it again and droplets formed 
and reformed as they were shrugged away. 

Saying nothing, he grabbed her and half led, half dragged her down a long 
hallway to where a door stood open. His bedroom was gigantic and just as 
gaudily furnished as the rest of the place. A huge round bed sat in the 
middle of the room. He pushed her onto it and followed right behind her. She 
sensed his urgency and could appreciate it because of the aching within her 
womb, but she resented his rough handling. 

Pushing her down on her back, he brought his face down on her cunt. She 
spread her legs and her stomach muscles fluttered as his tongue bored into 
her vaginal passage. Her womb reacted to his tongue's entry by contracting 
painfully. She cried out as his lips played with the puckered flesh at her 
entrance, parting her red cunt hair to nibble fervently at her already 
moistened ruby lips. He forced her thighs apart, digging his rutting fingers 
into their soft, sensitive flesh. He was grunting like an animal and hardly 
knew what he was doing. He forced his face into her widening cunt and dug at 
her with his nose and she felt the stubble of his beard scratching her cunt 
lips. 

He released her thighs and she spread them widely again for him as he 
lowered himself over her in fucking position. She had to have it. She didn't 
know how she could hate and fear a man and still have to have him in her, 
but her raging insides seemed to be a yawning cavern that had to be filled, 
had to have something to close upon. 

Teffler eased his thick cock along the short space encompassing her 
pink-lipped target, then wedged it in. It wouldn't go in easily because of 
her tightness and the tenderness left from yesterday's assault. He 
maintained a steady pressure, and soon her juices eased him in. She was 
surprised to feel no pain despite the size of him. Her cuntal walls opened 
to receive him then clamped down to hold him in. 

Nan breathed deeply as the big piledriver swelled in her inexperienced cunt. 
Teffler stroked her unsurely, slowly at first, then faster and harder. The 
stout shaft pronged her cunt-chute, cosseting her smooth interior walls. The 
resilient head plunged at her yielding cervix as Nan's breathing hoarsened. 
She intuitively wrapped her legs tightly around his back and closed her 
eyes, hating him but loving every millimeter of his penetration into her 
tight, grasping core. 

Now her hips began a motion of their own in reaction to his thrusts. His 
huge rod pumped furiously into her upthrust sucking pussy. Little mewling 
cries came from her as his flesh-ridged prong stabbed into her slavering 
cunt. Her hips swayed and humped, squirmed and wriggled, fell back and 
pushed up to meet him; her vaginal muscles operating entirely on their own, 
grabbed at his driving rod and sometimes he even felt a suction. 

Her cunt is even tighter than her mouth, he thought, hearing slurping sounds 
slush in sibilance as he fucked his prick against her clitoris, which made 
her squeal, then against her cervix, which brought deep, throaty moans from 
her. 

Nan was amazed that the prick, now sliding with such ease in and out of her 
smooth and oily passage, caused her no pain or discomfort. She had no 
control over the vaginal muscles, but could feel them reacting as they 
themselves deemed best. The sensation of their movement sent electric 
thrills throughout her system. Jets of passion shot through her, firing 
themselves far out from their source in her battered vagina all the way to 
the top of her head, the bottoms of her uplifted feet, and to her fingertips 
which were presently digging their nails in broad scraping arcs across her 
attacker's back. Cold, dry electric shocks jolted her, only to turn into 
warm floods of creamy lavalike streams of sexual yearning... fulfillment 
would be hers if it continued like this for much longer. 

His penis jerked spastically, then, as he thrust his ass forward, driving 
his prick home for the last shot, she felt his balls against her asshole 
tighten in preparation. 

"No," she said, "not yet." 

"Fuck you, baby!" hissed Teffler. "I'm coming." 

His huge cock seemed suddenly to expand forcing a cry of despair from her as 
the big tool gushed, shrank back slightly, expanded and gushed again. She 
ground her hips against his crotch to get more of his prick into her, but it 
was no use. 

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he sighed as he flowed. The shrinking of his prick informed 
her that it was over... over before she had really had her chance. It wasn't 
fair, she wanted to scream, and her vaginal muscles agreed as they clamped 
down on his diminishing, slippery member. 

"Don't look so disappointed," he told her. He withdrew his prick with the 
same wet popping sound it had made when it left her mouth. 

"I didn't finish," she said petulantly. "You could have..." 

Leaning over her, he slapped her face hard. 

"Shuddap, you stupid bitch," he ordered. "You didn't even want to start." 

He looked down at her sprawled out on his bed. She had relaxed after the 
slap but her arms and legs were still spread wide. Her body shown with 
sweat, her sex juices glistened on her cuntlips and he could see the trail 
it left running down between the cheeks of her ass. Her red pussy hair, that 
perfect delta, was matted with both their juices and whole dollops of his 
white cum was hardening there as it dried. 

"Wait here a minute," he said. "Don't move." 

He left and she, suspecting something even worse to come, ran to the living 
room, grabbed her clothes, hurriedly put them on, and moved to the door 
before he could return. 

She pressed the button in the wall hoping against hope that it would unlock 
the door as it had locked it. Another loud click justified that hope and, 
hearing him coming toward the room from somewhere, she pushed the door open. 

"You dirty bitch!" he screamed like a child who couldn't get his own way. 
"Come back here." 

As she left, she glanced at him. He held a camera and just before she 
escaped into the elevator he shot her picture. 

Rotten bitch got away, he thought bitterly. But she'll be back. If she wants 
information on old Mae, she'll be back. And when she comes, I'll be ready. 
I'll get a couple of the boys over here... they're gonna love working the 
leather on her sweet ass... far out from their source in her battered vagina 
all the way to the top of her head, the bottoms of her uplifted feet, and to 
her fingertips which were presently digging their nails in broad scraping 
arcs across her attacker's back. Cold, dry electric shocks jolted her, only 
to turn into warm floods of creamy lavalike streams of sexual yearning... 
fulfillment would be hers if it continued like this for much longer. 

His penis jerked spastically, then, as he thrust his ass forward, driving 
his prick home for the last shot, she felt his balls against her asshole 
tighten in preparation. 

"No," she said, "not yet." 

"Puck you, baby!" hissed Teffler. "I'm coming. 

His huge cock seemed suddenly to expand forcing a cry of despair from her as 
the big tool gushed, shrank back slightly, expanded and gushed again. She 
ground her hips against his crotch to get more of his prick into her, but it 
was no use. 

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he sighed as he flowed. The shrinking of his prick informed 
her that it was over... over before she had really had her chance. It wasn't 
fair, she wanted to scream, and her vaginal muscles agreed as they clamped 
down on his diminishing, slippery member. 

"Don't look so disappointed," he told her. He withdrew his prick with the 
same wet popping sound it had made when it left her mouth. 

"I didn't finish," she said petulantly. "You could have..." 

Leaning over her, he slapped her face hard. "Shuddap, you stupid bitch," he 
ordered. "You didn't even want to start." 

He looked down at her sprawled out on his bed. She had relaxed after the 
slap but her arms and legs were still spread wide. Her body shown with 
sweat, her sex juices glistened on her cuntlips and he could see the trail 
it left running down between the cheeks of her ass. Her red pussy hair, that 
perfect delta, was matted with both their juices and whole dollops of his 
white cum was hardening there as it dried. "Wait here a minute," he said. 
"Don't move." He left and she, suspecting something even worse to come, ran 
to the living room, grabbed her clothes, hurriedly put them on, and moved to 
the door before he could return. 

She pressed the button in the wall hoping against hope that it would unlock 
the door as it had locked it. Another loud click justified that hope and, 
hearing him coming toward the room from somewhere, she pushed the door open. 

"You dirty bitch!" he screamed like a child who couldn't get his own way. 
"Come back here." 

As she left, she glanced at him. He held a camera and just before she 
escaped into the elevator he shot her picture. 

Rotten bitch got away, he thought bitterly, But she'll be back. If she wants 
information on old Mae, she'll be back. And when she comes, I'll be ready. 
I'll get a couple of the boys over here... they're gonna love working the 
leather on her sweet ass... 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Wednesday morning dawned clear and sunny. Nan was prepared to start out once 
more on her quest to unravel the early life of Mrs. Jetty. Despite her first 
two interviews which had resulted in Nan's initiation into the world of sex, 
she was determined to complete her assignment with dispatch. 

The next name on her list was old Mrs. DiMintri. There was even less 
information in the files on her than there was on her rich daughter. Nan 
knew Mrs. DiMintri was an invalid and had been in almost total seclusion for 
the past ten years. 

The DiMintri mansion, built by Mae Gail Jetty, some years ago, was in the 
snob section of town called "Northside." The old lady was close to ninety 
years old and bedridden. As Nan drove up the winding driveway to the 
pillared facade she was awed by the magnificence of the grounds and 
structure. It looked like a palace. She lifted her chin as she strode to the 
door and tapped resolutely with a large brass knocker in the shape of a 
gargoyle. It looked ugly to her, but she guessed it was probably a very 
expensive bit of decor. 

After a moment the door was opened by a young man. Nan had not known who 
would answer, but she thought it would probably be a somber-faced butler in 
morning clothes or a maid in very prim and proper attire. Not so: the young 
fellow who stood before her wore a wide grin and a bath towel, nothing more. 

Nan, now sure she must have entered a completely different world since she 
began backtracking the rich Mrs. Jetty, informed the curly-haired man she 
was the reporter who had called earlier about an interview with Mrs. 
DiMintri. 

"I'm Steve Edwards, Mrs. DiMintri's manager. Won't you come in, Miss 
Flanders?" He made a rather elaborate sweep of his hand indicating she was 
welcome. 

Nan tried to ignore the almost nude Edwards and stepped into a wide and 
elegantly appointed entrance hall. A winding staircase at the far end led to 
a second floor and to the left and right were a number of doors, all closed. 
Nan glanced back as Edwards closed the door and she noticed his unabashed 
appraisal of her figure. She blushed, despite her best intentions, and 
managed to control her nervousness as he took her arm and led her to a pair 
of high white doors which were suddenly thrown open, almost in her face. 

Three people were there to greet her, all wrapped in towels and obviously 
naked otherwise. There was another young man and two girls, only slightly 
older than Nan. They stepped aside as Nan edged into the room and Edwards 
closed the door behind her. "Miss Flanders wants to see the old lady. She's 
from the local paper and wants to do a story on the life of her nibs, old 
Mae herself." 

The two girls, wearing towels toga-style, glanced at each other and then 
burst into laughter. The two men joined in and Nan stood rooted to the spot, 
uncertain as to just what to do next. She had expected anything but 
laughter. What was so funny? When they ended their brief merriment, Edwards 
introduced them as Ed, the old lady's chauffeur, Lilly, the maid and very 
blonde, and Sasha, a tall dark-haired beauty who was the old lady's nurse. 

Nan's quick survey of the room had noted the many glasses and bottles of 
liquor. It was evident that she had interrupted a very wild party. She 
wondered if the old lady knew what was going on in her own house. Nan 
thought not, since the woman was bedridden. 

Nan asked Sasha, "Do you think I might be able to interview Mrs. DiMintri 
for just a few minutes?" 

Sasha looked at her companions, put her hands on her hips, ogled Nan's 
miniskirted torso and replied, "It could be arranged, but nobody talks to 
the old girl unless I say so and I don't say so unless I get something in 
return." 

Nan had heard a similar line from Teffler and she hadn't liked the price. 
She warily eyed the half-clothed quartet and inquired as to just what that 
something might be. Sasha smiled and brushed Nan's cheek fondly. "The party 
was getting dull. A little new life in it might make the whole day. Are you 
game?" 

Nan thought that it couldn't hurt to have a drink or two and have her 
spirits revived after the past two days of utter degradation into which she 
had been forced. "All right, but only for a little while. I have to get the 
interview and talk to other people today so I won't be able to stay very 
long." 

Edwards promptly mixed her a screwdriver after Nan had informed him of her 
preference and Lilly put a record on a huge stereo console which seemed to 
take up one whole side of the gigantic room. There were several couches and 
innumerable overstuffed chairs scattered around the room which was carpeted 
in a shag rug so thick it seemed to come up to Nan's ankles as she examined 
a few of the many pieces of art adorning the walls. 

When Nan turned to face her four hosts, she almost flipped her wig. All of 
them had doffed their towels and were sitting on a long white velvet couch 
completely at ease. Nan turned away and said, "I think I'd better go. I'm 
not much for this kind of a party." 

She never reached the door. Steve and Ed blocked her way, their hairy bodies 
now exposed to her eyes. She tried not to notice their cocks which hung limp 
and yet threatening between their legs. Even soft, she thought, they both 
had big pricks and she was in no mood to enter into any sort of sexual 
hanky-panky with the foursome. 

Steve put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Now it wouldn't be nice for 
you to refuse our hospitality if you really want to talk to the old lady. 
There's nothing for nothing in this world and, besides, we only want to have 
a little fun. Have another drink, take 'em off and join in. We'll ball it up 
and later you can talk to the old girl all you want." 

This was too much for Nan. She was unsure about everything. Nothing was 
going the way it should. But she had to get a story and so far she hadn't 
learned a heck of a lot. She wondered just how much these swingers expected 
of her in the way of cooperation. Nan realized she didn't have a hell of a 
lot to lose now that she was no longer a virgin. 

Her professional drive outweighed her reservations and without actually 
welcoming the advance she let herself be led over to the velvet couch. She 
stood there tense and expectant as Steve's hands moved slowly down her sides 
from behind her. His serpentine caress moved over her hips and then away. 

Ed knelt on the couch in front of her as the two girls stood back to watch. 
Lilly had the biggest set of tits Nan had ever seen and Sasha sported a 
growth of pubic hair which made the Black Forest look like two twigs in a 
sandpile. 

Ed shook his limp cock at her and then unemotionally began to unbutton the 
shortsleeved blouse she was wearing. Nan took the drink offered to her by 
one of the girls and almost gulped it down in one swallow as her blouse was 
taken off and she felt her bra being unhooked. Steve's nimble hands removed 
the bra and threw it to the floor in one motion. Her proud tits sprang up to 
attention and Ed's hands began a nontherapeutic massage. 

Nan was almost at the point of pushing him away and rushing from the house, 
her mind reeling in heat and confusion, when Steve raised her skirt over her 
ass and with almost the same motion pulled her pantyhose down to her ankles. 
Cold air washed her moist pussy lips. She tried to spin around but was 
firmly halted by the grip of Ed's hands gripping her tits and Steve's iron 
clasp on her rounded hips. 

She pushed at Steve's hands, to no avail, and then turned her attention to 
Ed who was now nuzzling her nipples. His mouth devoured the nipple of her 
right tit and a shiver of anticipation coursed down Nan's back. Her efforts 
to push Ed's head away from her rapidly hardening nipples was abbreviated by 
the knowledge that something hard and warm was parting the tender half moons 
of her plump ass. With a shock she realized it was Steve's hardening cock! 
She moaned and the denial she was about to voice was never uttered for the 
head of his cock touched her asshole and she forgot everything. 

Then Steve's hands slid over her hips and the fingers of his left hand 
explored the area of her tender pussy, still quite sore from the not too 
gentle ministrations of Art Teffler. 

Ed's manipulations on her tits now were driving her past the point of no 
return. Her nipples stood out hard and erect like cherries on two large dips 
of vanilla ice cream. Her fingers wound themselves into Ed's hair and her 
sighs of pleasure attested to her approaching surrender to the delights of 
the moment. 

Lilly and Sasha, unable to contain themselves any longer, pulled Ed from the 
couch. Despite his halfhearted resistance, the girls pushed him to the 
floor. Nan's eyes were riveted on his blood-filled erection which stood out 
hard and menacing. It was gigantic. 

No sooner did the girls have Ed on the floor than his manly muscle was 
encased in a sheath of quivering quim as Lilly plopped herself down on it 
without as much as a "May I?" His purple protuberance entered into her nest 
of Venus as her moist vaginal orifice stretched wide to receive its guest. 

Sasha kneeled over his face and slowly lowered her ass until her cunt hair 
tickled his lips. Ed laughed and said, "Now who would have ever thought that 
looking at an asshole could be so enjoyable?" Sasha laughed too and with 
only a slight movement pushed her cunt down onto his mouth. Nan watched his 
tongue snake out and lick her pink portals. 

Lilly was riding Ed's cock and moving her ass in a slow circular motion. 
Ed's cock was buried in her pretty pussy and Nan could see only the hair 
around his cock meshed with the dark blonde hair of Lilly's valley. Lilly 
reached out and began pinching the nipples of Sasha's well-formed breasts 
and just as quickly Sasha returned the favor. 

The two girls kneaded each other's tits until the passion of their action 
warmed, then Sasha leaned forward to tongue the hard brown nipples of the 
maid. Lilly continued to caress the tits of the nurse who was now nursing 
herself on Lilly's tits. 

Ed was just beginning to get into the swing of things and was laving the 
dripping pussy of Sasha as she squatted over his head. The soft lips of her 
palpitating cunt seemed to be pulling his tongue ever deeper into her moist 
channel. Ed licked, sucked, and teased the delicious morsel lingering in 
this opening scene to heighten the pleasure and the passion of the girl. 
Sasha squirmed and gently pushed her pussy down to his mouth, wanting him to 
probe the depths of her love box. 

Lilly was now warming to her task, seated on the giant joy stick of the 
supine chauffeur. She worked the lips of her cunt around the hard length of 
his cock, milking it like the hand of a lady goat herder. The muscles of her 
vagina tightened and relaxed in alternating pulses like the ebb and flow of 
an ocean tide. Ed could feel her cunt sucking at his cock like it was a 
vacuum cleaner and he willed himself not to become too quickly enraptured. 

Sasha, unable to control the delights which flooded her body and engulfed 
her brain, pushed her cunt down even harder into Ed's mouth. He pushed up, a 
hand under each generous cheek of her ass, and, gasping for air, said, "I 
like the job, baby, but I acquired a bad habit at an early age. Breathing!" 
and with that he began to lick her asshole. 

She squealed with delight as his tongue circled the rubbery ring and 
involuntarily her sphincter tightened and, abruptly, she farted. 

Ed came up sputtering and gasping. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked 
as he held her ass and gulped in fresh air. "If you're going to cum out your 
ass, don't do it that way." 

His blandishments didn't phase Sasha who only tried to push her cunt down to 
his mouth once more. Ed, not really too ruffled by the unexpected blast of 
fetid air, grasped the thighs and tongued the tight narrow separation 
between her dripping cunt and her rectal ring. Sasha responded predictably 
with a sigh and in a quavering voice whispered, "Now, Ed, now. Suck it. Suck 
it. Do it right." 

Despite or because of his pussy-strapped position, Ed had to grin. He pushed 
his tongue into the soft folds of her ever-widening vagina and teased her 
clitoris until she was rotating her hips on his face as Lilly was on his 
cock. Ed felt he was now approaching a climax and nibbled at Sasha's 
protruding love bump. It grew slightly longer and harder under his 
persuasive tongue and he sucked it into his mouth. She pushed down until her 
cunt widened and spread over his mouth, almost suffocating him as his nose 
was entrapped between the cheeks of her ass. He moved to gasp for air and 
sucked hard at her cunt as his tongue probed deeply into her vagina. She was 
moaning and whispering sweet endearments to him as though there was no one 
in the world except the two of them. And all the time she was spasmodically 
massaging the breasts of Lilly who had now taken Sasha's former role and was 
returning the favor as she sucked hard on the nipple of one breast and then 
the other of the insatiable Sasha. 

Lilly strove to impale herself even further on the giant phallic digit of 
the now writhing chauffeur. Her cunt was as an immense gorge which no amount 
of cock could fill. She plunged her ass up and down on his tool until just 
the blood-swollen head of it was within her gushing twat and then in a 
downward stroke she eagerly sought to feel a glorious reentering of her 
vagina. 

Ed, his face almost completely within the spread of Sasha's distended cunt, 
was sucking her to completion. Her ass moved uncontrollably as her climax 
erupted in a flood that almost drowned Ed. She cried out in passion as he 
sucked, licked and swallowed, trying to contain the copious flow of nectar 
spurting from deep within her vagina. 

"Ohhhhhhhh, Ed. Don't stop. Suck me. Suck me. Do it, lover. Ohhhhh, suck me 
dry." Sasha screamed with pagan abandon. Her pleasure was unbounded and Ed 
complied as best he could, although her grinding ass had almost completely 
cut off his ability to breathe. 

Then he felt his balls tighten and the tingle within grew to exquisite 
nerve-shattering sensations as his cock spewed forth a seemingly endless 
gush of hot, sticky cum. Lilly pumped herself up and down frantically, 
nearing her own climax and relishing the steaming hot emissions spurting 
into her cannibal cunt. 

With one last downward thrust, she wiggled her ass down on his thighs and, 
with his exploding pole buried in her, she released the flood of love juice 
from within her ovaries. Ed wanted to climb the walls as he experienced the 
indescribable spine-tingling sensation of her hot load pouring over the head 
of his still spitting cock. 

He strained upward with his hips, trying to lodge even more of his pulsing 
pecker within her oscillating vagina. He wanted to push his balls into 
her... his whole body... he wanted to enter into her completely, back to 
whence he came. His mouthing of Sasha's cuntal passage drove her to even 
further heights of desire. Before he could even catch his breath she came 
again, and once more the flow threatened to engulf him. The sweet nectar of 
her juice filled his mouth and ran over his chin and face. It was impossible 
for him to swallow it all. 

Sasha was trembling and mouthing obscenities, lost to her surroundings and 
knowing nothing except the fever of the flesh as her cunt became the center 
of her universe. Ed finally had to push her off. She tumbled to one side and 
lay on the floor, moaning and rubbing her hips as she descended from the 
outer space of passion. 

Ed's cock was now growing soft in Lilly's swollen cunt. She leaned over him, 
her tits rubbing his chest and said, "Welcome back to the world. How was the 
trip?" 

Ed grinned, "Not bad for openers. When do we get down to some real loving?" 

"You'll be sorry you said that, big boy," Lilly retorted as she flexed the 
walls of her vagina and milked his cock of its last drop of cum. 

As she raised herself, Ed's almost limp cock slid from her cunt with a wet 
ker-r-r-plop. 

Lilly sat on the floor next to him and her eyes turned to Nan and Steve. 
"Will you check out the inquiring reporter? She's entering right into the 
spirit of the party." Ed and Sasha both took in the scene at the same time. 

Nan was bent over the back of the couch. Her soft-voiced protestations were 
lost on the single-minded purpose of the long-pronged Steve. He had a firm 
grasp of her hips and was pronging the tight anal orifice between the cheeks 
of a most delectable ass. 

Nan felt the tip of his cock push itself up to her asshole and she wondered 
if he thought he could get that big thing into her that way. She felt a 
terror she had never known before. He would kill her if he stuck that 
instrument of flesh and gristle into her ass. She had noticed the girth of 
it before it had grown hard and her two previous experiences told her that 
it was probably twice that size by now. 

Then she felt it move to the chafed and tender lips of her battered box and 
she thought he had only made a mistake when he had pushed it against her 
anal entrance. Her fear was not reduced by this thought. She was sure she 
could not possibly take even the tip of his prolific pole into her tiny 
twat. All the inhibitions she had known up until two days ago seemed far 
away and unimportant, but still she feared what was taking place. 

And there was something else she sensed, but was afraid to admit; she knew 
there was a part of her which was crying out for fulfillment. She wanted to 
know all there was to know about life, but not like this. She wanted it to 
be different. The puritanical ancestors reared their heads and shook a 
finger in her face. Her initial protests and struggles had now subsided to 
weak pleading and halfhearted resistance. She needed the story and would do 
anything she had to do in order to learn the facts. 

"Relax, honey. Old Steve's crack-crammer needs a bit of exercise and you've 
got the most delicious keister I've seen in a long time," Steve said as he 
tightened his hold on her hips. 

Sasha laughed, "That Steve is an honest to God cheek-freak. There's nothing 
that cowboy likes better. You might as well relax and enjoy it, Nan. He'll 
never let you go now." 

Nan felt her face redden at this crude outburst and she buried her face in 
the couch, holding onto the cushion which she had pulled up over her head. 

Nan cringed as once more the moist tip of Steve's cock nudged her asshole. 
Then she almost screamed as he pushed harder and her tight little rectum 
stretched tautly to receive the searching head of his rigid glory rod. She 
sobbed and wanted to beg him to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to 
raise her head from behind the cushion. She could hear the remarks of the 
three spectators and quailed at the thought that she would have to face them 
when this was over. 

The rubbery ring of her rectum stretched wider and the swollen head of his 
rod slipped into her taut passage. She bit her lip to hold back the scream 
of pain which welled in the throat. Her eyes flooded with tears and she held 
the cushion even more tightly over her face. Never before had she 
experienced such pain! It-was like a molten pipe being rammed even further 
up her soft, tender ass. 

Sasha, Lilly, and Ed were moving around to survey the action from every 
angle. They commented on the length of Steve's cock and the ability of Nan's 
rectal passage to take all that meat. By this time Ed's cock was long and 
hard again. He pulled Sasha over to another couch and after he lay down he 
said, "Now it's your turn, Sash baby." She smiled, then dropped to her knees 
beside the couch. 

Ed propped himself up on his elbows and watched as she grasped his turgid 
pussy-plug and began to massage it knowingly. Her face was only inches away, 
the smile pulling the corners of her brightly painted mouth. 

Lilly, her own desire rising at a rapid rate, dropped down beside Sasha and 
proceeded to caress her opulent tits. Sasha purred like a well-fed kitten 
and moved her face closer to the rampant tool of flesh in her hand. Ed lay 
back, his eyes closed, as the rising passion flooded his tingling body. He 
curled his fingers in her hair and she responded by kissing the 
blood-reddened head of his cock. His whole body jerked spasmodically in an 
almost uncontrollable ecstasy. Then her lips opened and enveloped the tip of 
his cunt-corker. 

Lilly, unable to restrain the latent impulses now storming in her mind, 
slithered under Sasha's ass. Sasha raised herself on her knees just enough 
to let Lilly move her head under her crotch, then she sat down with her 
crotch pressed tightly to the upturned face of the frantic maid. 

Lilly grasped the flaring hips of the sultry secretary and pushed her mouth 
to the soft vaginal lips of the aroused Sasha. Sasha eagerly moved her mouth 
down on Ed's pulsing prick. Her tongue laved the length of it as she slowly 
moved her mouth down until she totally engulfed it. Ed moaned and strained 
upward trying to push his cock even further into her mouth. She held her 
lips over it, the hair of his balls brushing her chin, and sucked slowly. 

Her lips moved expertly like the caress of a hungry vampire. Her cheeks 
depressed as the suction she employed so diligently carried her to new 
excesses. His cock seemed to deflate and expand with each exertion of her 
lips. Then she concentrated her talents on just the head of his huge 
pussy-plunger. 

Lilly, meanwhile, was probing the now dripping cunt of the passion-wracked 
Sasha. The hungry mouth of the maid pushed up into the walls of Sasha's 
wide-open cunt. Her tongue licked the inner walls of distended flesh and she 
sucked at the hardened clitoris. Sasha writhed like a cobra entranced by the 
music of a flute. The fire in her loins consumed her, carrying her to 
heretofore unknown heights of ecstasy. 

All the stars, the universe, and all the pleasures ever known on earth 
seemed to be concentrated in the nerve-tingling wetness of Lilly's tongue. 
Sasha ground her ass down into Lilly's face and, although Lilly could hardly 
breathe, she continued to suck at the brunette's gushing cunt. The nurse's 
juices were pouring down into Lilly's upturned face. Much of the hot love 
juice escaped her mouth despite her best efforts to gulp it down. Her hungry 
mouth had a mind of its own as Sasha's musky emissions poured in an unending 
stream over her lips, chin, nose, and neck. 

Sasha, her climax ripping her body like lightning streaking through a dark 
storm, drove her on and on, her mouth sucking Ed until he too reached a 
crashing, bowel-splitting climax. He cried out as a crescendo of pleasure 
coursed through his sweating, heaving body. Sasha's mouth sucked ravenously 
at the head of his exploding prick. Sucking like she had never done before, 
her whole desire was to consume the snorting, spurting monster, and she put 
forth an inspired effort to swallow every drop of his hot joy-juice. 

Pinwheels whirled in Ed's brain. He was on the precipice looking out into 
eternity. The total animal passion which controlled him seemed to have no 
end. He held Sasha's head down and she continued to suck as his balls 
emptied their hot, pungent juices into her voracious mouth. Unable to 
contain the torrent of sticky liquid, she let it dribble down her chin and 
over his balls. 

Lilly was still striving to get her face further into Sasha's wide-open 
cunt. Her nose and mouth were buried within the walls of quivering flesh. 
Sasha was coming again and again as Lilly's actions continued unabated. 
Lilly had forgotten everything, driven to the point of no return; lost to 
her surroundings and all else except the all-pervading hunger to suck 
Sasha's lovely pussy. 

As Ed's cock gradually softened in Sasha's still eager mouth, she held just 
the swollen head of it between her lips and sucked the last drop of hot jism 
from his empty balls. 

When at last his cock was limp in her mouth, she just lay bent over him, 
grinding her hips mechanically as Lilly nibbled her clitoris. Ed was beyond 
all caring. He felt completely drained and at the moment didn't even know 
Sasha still had his cock in her mouth. 

Lilly was now finger-fucking herself as she sucked Sasha's quivering quim. 
She had two fingers in her cunt and was trying for three as she gobbled and 
sucked at Sasha's slippery snatch. Lilly wondered why she had suddenly 
wanted to eat pussy. She had never done it before, but it seemed like the 
natural thing to do as she sucked and swallowed the never-ending stream of 
thick, creamy essence of squat drops flowing from Sasha's steaming twat. 

Lilly squirmed and twisted her voluptuous hips as her climax approached ever 
nearer. Sasha was finally becoming calm, unable to reach the peak of desire 
she had ascended again and again during the past few minutes. She sat on 
Lilly's face, a dead weight. Lilly kept her face buried in Sasha's crotch as 
she fingered her clitoris more rapidly. Her climax came suddenly and gushed 
out over her fingers and down the crack of her creamy white ass. She tickled 
her clitoris still more and massaged the small protuberance, bringing her to 
yet another climax. 

Gradually, her desire slacked and she pulled herself from under Sasha's 
buttocks. Sasha let Ed's cock slip from her mouth and slumped to the floor, 
utterly spent. Lilly lay next to her exhausted and Ed was almost asleep, the 
euphoria of the moment enshrouding his tired body. 

Nan was now being fucked most earnestly by Steve who had every inch of his 
cock up her stretched fanny. Nan, in her desire to escape this harsh 
impalement, had dropped the cushion and had witnessed the scene between 
Lilly, Sasha, and Ed. She could hardly believe her eyes, but watching them 
had almost made her forget what was happening to her own backside. 

When she did come back to what was being done to her, she discovered that it 
wasn't too bad. Most of the pain had gone and was being replaced by the 
first faint tremors of desire. Steve was a past master at deflowering 
maidens of their rectal virginity and was now displaying every vestige of 
his noble art. 

He fucked her asshole in long, slow, easy strokes. Each stroke accompanied 
by a short respite on the outward motion, with just the head of his cock 
within her rectum. This was to give Nan's raw rectum a moment to contract 
before he slowly made the inward journey. Nan grunted at each inward stroke 
and held onto the back of the divan for support. 

By this time she knew it was useless to resist. All innocence had fled, 
leaving her with only one thing in mind... get the story on Mae Gail Jetty. 
When her dress came all the way over her head, she wondered what he was up 
to now. She didn't have long to wonder. She felt his hands move around her 
and the next moment her breasts were captured within his grasp. 

Now he kneaded, squeezed, and massaged her tits as his attack on Tier 
asshole gained momentum. The fog of indescribable pain was now blending with 
a strong desire for fulfillment. A shudder trickled through her body and she 
trembled as his cock plunged once more into the depths of her bowels. She 
thought surely his cock must be peeking into her stomach. It felt as though 
her whole insides were filled with his monstrous cock. Her rectum tightened 
around its length and girth like a rubber glove. 

Her nipples began to harden and no longer was she concerned with the raw 
pain of her violated asshole. Her mind had now turned to the satisfaction of 
her own needs. The tingling of her crotch and the thoughts running through 
her mind brought her to complete cooperation with Steve. Her hips began to 
move and her ass responded to his strokes. 

Steve smiled and said, "That's it, baby. I knew you'd like it as soon as you 
got used to the idea. I never met a broad yet that didn't like it up the old 
shit-chute." 

Nan cringed at the coarseness of his words, but was beyond caring as long as 
he continued to fuck her. His motions were now much faster and Nan grunted 
and heaved her ass like a bucking horse at a rodeo. Steve let go of her tits 
and held her hips as he drove his cock faster and deeper into her tight ass. 

Faster and faster he drove until he gasped, "I'm cumming, honey. Pucker up. 
Thar she blows." 

Nan felt his cock explode deep within her. His hot orgasm flowed into her 
bowels and seemed to fill her intestines like a super enema. His cock pulsed 
and seemed to have a life-of its own as it bucked and spurted within her. 
Her own passion had now reached a high pitch. The added impetus of his 
climax caused her to writhe and moan with desire. At last his cock grew 
quiet within her and she felt it begin to grow soft. She wanted to tell him 
to keep going so she could realize her own desires, but she knew he couldn't 
and she would never ask any man such a thing. It was unthinkable. 

By the time he pulled his flaccid rod from her distended rectum, she was 
beyond all caring. She had to find fulfillment. Steve slapped her on the ass 
and fell over the back of the couch, completely sated. He had no use for her 
at the moment and she looked at the worn-out quartet and was almost angry 
with them for having gotten her to such a high emotional pitch, only to let 
her down without any effort to satisfy her needs. What a dirty trick. 

She pulled her dress in place and sat down on the couch beside Steve. Then 
she cradled his head in her lap. Steve, knowing she had not reached a climax 
and not being a real cad, lifted her dress up and pushed his face into her 
crotch. She knew what he would do and she had to have it. She spread her 
thighs and Steve kissed the moist lips of her tender pussy. 

The delight this brought to her was indescribable. She wanted him to eat her 
alive. To put his entire head into her cunt and never stop sucking her. 
Steve nibbled at the lips of her vagina and gingerly poked his tongue into 
her cunt. 

She spread her thighs even further apart and rubbed the back of his neck. 
She shivered and wondered at herself for not having enjoyed all of this 
while she had been going to high school. She could have very easily. Most of 
the girls she knew had done all of these things with boys at school and even 
older men. Nan had many chances to copy their behavior, but had always 
backed out when it came down to the nitty-gritty. 

Steve's mouth was busy and his tongue busier. When he nibbled at her 
clitoris, she sighed with pure desire and pushed his head down until he 
began to suck on the hard little digit. She closed her eyes and trembled 
expectantly. His tongue set her on fire and when he began to suck, she 
almost jumped up off the couch. The sensation drove her to the point of 
oblivion. All her nerve ends tightened and the very fiber of her body seemed 
to be of another being. She gasped and gulped for air as he pressed his 
assault on her pussy. Each motion of his tongue brought new visions to her 
enflamed mind. 

Steve sucked and nipped expertly at her clitoris and his mouthing of her 
vaginal opening brought her to a rapid climax. Steve lapped at her cunt as 
she moaned, twisted, and pushed her cunt up to his face. He sucked and 
licked her until she came again and was almost ready to climb the walls. Nan 
hoped he would never stop and when she came the second time all the past, 
present, and future seemed to pass before her in a kaleidoscope of brilliant 
flashing lights. She now knew what it was like to find nothing mattered 
except desire and its fulfillment. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Nan's excursion into bliss took her along the road of unending thrills. Her 
mind groped to comprehend all the new sensations searing her body. Steve's 
talented tongue probed, poked, and licked until she was soaring to heaven, 
borne on wings of carnal ecstasy. 

She shivered and trembled, shook and squirmed, jerked and quivered in 
endless motion. Her climax exploded deep within her, flooding her vaginal 
passage with a torrent of hot, boiling cum. Her abdomen twitched 
convulsively and her thighs opened and closed spasmodically as Steve lapped 
at her pussy, gorging himself on the copious emissions flowing from her like 
a gushing oil well. 

Her fingers, entwined in Steve's hair, strove to push his face yet further 
into her drenched crotch. Steve, hard put to breathe, carried on his valiant 
endeavor. He knew she had reached her breaking point and she had gone over 
the brink of sexual desire. He had pushed her into the abyss of complete and 
total debasement. She could refuse him nothing at this point and he knew it. 

Nan, unable to control the utter feeling of abandonment satiating her 
vibrant young body, surrendered to this all pervading need and murmured, 
"Eat me, Steve. More, more, never stop. Deeper, do it deeper. That's it. 
There. Right there. Oh-h-h-h-hh. Uhh-h-h-h-h. Mm-m-mm." 

Again she climaxed and the river of viscous vaginal secretions inundated 
Steve's face anew. He sucked, licked, and lapped at the quaking lips of her 
soft, swollen cunt and her writhings went on unabated. At last he tired of 
the game and raised his head, gazing into her face, still flushed with the 
excesses of the past few minutes. He wiped his face on the hem of her skirt 
and turned to the other two girls and Ed. The trio was in the halfway world 
of sated numbness. Each was exhausted from their round-robin bout with sex. 
Their nudity now seemed ludicrous. 

Steve lay back and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Ed was sitting on 
the arm of the couch next to Nan and was removing her clothes which, up to 
now, had only been disarrayed and rearranged to suit Steve's needs. Nan made 
no effort to resist Ed's unhurried actions. 

Steve grinned languidly, unwilling to exert himself beyond only the most 
minimum emotion. Nan, now nude, smiled up at Ed as he leaned over her, 
caressing her proud, pink-tipped breasts. The nipples had grown soft, but 
quickly returned to hardness under the skillful manipulations of the 
handsome chauffeur. 

Nan murmured, "Oh, no, no more. I really have to go. I have to see Mrs. 
DiMintri." But, despite her words, she moved her body in a gesture 
unmistakable to any man. She wanted Ed to go on with his ministrations. She 
wanted to once again enter into the never-never world of total sexual 
experience. She pulled Ed's face down to her tits and moaned softly as his 
lips mouthed first one nipple to hard alertness and then the other. Her 
breath came in quick gasps. "Oh. Oh. That's nice. Your mouth is so nice. 
Don't bite so hard, just suck. It feels so good." She held his head to her 
firm breasts and trembled as his right hand caressed her thighs. The firm 
white flesh was smooth and cool to his touch. His fingers moved to the soft 
inner side of her thighs and slowly she spread her legs giving him access to 
the portals of paradise. 

Slowly, maddeningly, his fingers traced a tortuous path to her valley of 
delight. Already her pre-seminal flow was lubricating the walls of her 
quaking cunt. She wanted him in her. All the way in. She wanted his big cock 
jammed into her up to those big hairy balls hanging below his hardening 
fuck-stick. 

Her eyes never strayed from his cock which was slowly coming to life. She 
watched, entranced by the spectacle of his cock stiffening like rigor mortis 
was setting in. But she knew that exactly the opposite was true. His 
gigantic pussy-prodder was coming to life. It reared its head menacingly and 
she watched as the first drop of liquid glistened at the small mouth. It 
reminded her of a gorged gargoyle. 

It was ugly and yet beautiful. She wanted it now. All of it. In her. Now. 
She reached out and wrapped her fingers around it. Ed's body twitched as she 
tightened her hold and she squeezed it gently. It grew longer and harder in 
her grasp. Blood rushed to the blunt knob, turning it crimson. She could 
feel the pulse of his heart as she massaged the grisly length of hard meat. 
Then Ed pulled her to her feet and bent her over the back of the couch 
again. She struggled to wrench free. "No, no, I don't want to do it like 
that again. I won't." 

Ed laughed. "Hold still, tiger. You'll like it my way. I'm not too hot on 
that mustard highway routine. Just relax and let old Dr. Ed prescribe for 
his hot-ass little patient." He slapped her on the ass and warily she rested 
her head on her crossed arms, waiting to see what he was going to do. It 
really meant little to her what he did. She just needed his cock. Any way 
she could get it, but she didn't particularly want another ream job. 

She looked back over her shoulder and watched as he held his snorting St. 
George in his right hand. His left hand rested on her hip as he guided his 
dripping lance between her legs. Then she felt the tip of it touch the moist 
and ready opening to her palace of pleasure. She realized he was going to 
stick his rampant ramrod into her cunt from behind. She trembled expectantly 
and groaned softly as the head of his pile-driver prodded the soft lips of 
her cunt. 

Then he gripped her hips with both hands and with a steady forward pressure 
he pushed the enlarged head of his penis into her waiting snatch. She felt 
the lips of her vagina stretch to receive him. There was a little pain but 
soon a great pleasure filled her body. She wiggled her ass excitedly and Ed 
responded by slowly inserting his cock into her up to his balls. 

She groaned and gasped, "Oh, my God, it's so big." And moved her ass to more 
easily take the full length of his mighty muscle. She had never had a cock 
this big in her before. Ed was even bigger than Steve and she could feel her 
cunt, stretched tight as the skin around a hot dog, begin to milk his giant 
prick. 

Ed shifted his grip on her hips and began to fuck her in long, slow, easy 
strokes. His almost lackadaisical rhythm drove her wild. She gyrated her 
hips and pushed her ass back to meet his forward thrust and welcomed the 
entrance of his manly penis. She wondered if she would ever again have 
enough of this new sexual experience she was going through. 

She moaned and twisted, taking all his cock at each inward stroke and 
feeling the lips of her cunt clasp the head of his prick at each outward 
stroke. Her pussy seemed to have a mind of its own as it quivered, gripped, 
and pulled at the invader. She moved her ass in a circular motion, relishing 
the sensations aroused deep inside her sex-inflamed body. 

Ed fucked her faster and harder now. Each stroke was more violent than the 
last one. He sunk his cock into her up to his balls on each inward drive. 
She would only grunt and wiggle her lovely ass in an effort to take even 
more of his tool into her voracious cunt. She was fast approaching a climax 
and whimpered with delight as Ed rammed his cock into her in long rapid 
strokes. 

When she came, it was with such a force that her knees buckled and she would 
have fallen to the floor except for Ed's hands holding her hips. She felt 
his grip tighten and as though from far away she heard him say, "Stick with 
it, baby. This cowboy's just begun to ride." Her cunt was a river of slimy 
secretions which lubricated his driving cock. Her mind exploded in 
skyrockets that seemed to set her brain on fire. All her nerves felt raw and 
the tingling ganglia of nerve ends in her cunt sent waves of wanton desire 
through her. 

Ed fucked her as though nothing had happened. Her cunt was still tight 
around his cock and he wanted to see just how many times he could make her 
climax before he reached his own climax. He knew it would be some time 
before that happened. Sasha and Lilly had taken a lot out of him, in more 
ways than one. 

His cock slid in and out easier now and her surplus of cum ran down his 
legs. Some of it ran down her legs and a lot of it just dripped out of her 
cunt, around the sides of his plunging cock, and dripped on the floor. Ed 
leaned over her, grasped her tits and rode her like a dog in heat. She 
ground her ass back to him and he could feel the muscles of her cunt grab at 
the head of his cock in its journey into the depths of her vagina. 

When she came for the second time, he rested for a moment with his prick 
buried in her swollen pussy. Her juices gushed out around his cock and 
dripped a steady stream until there was a puddle on the floor. She gasped, 
"More, more. Do it some more. Don't stop!" 

Ed grinned. "Really like it that much, honey? You just set your mind at 
ease, 'cause old Daddy Ed knows how to fuck more ways than a preacher knows 
ways to get your money." 

His hands never stopped pinching her nipples and he held her tits firmly as 
once more he began a slow deliberate stroke. She bit her lower lip and 
wiggled her hips to hurry his desire. No sooner had she had her second 
climax than she felt another building up within her. It was like a rushing 
wall of water and a light brighter than a thousand suns blazed in her brain 
as her box filled again with the hot, starchlike juice. 

Ed's cock made a sound like a plunger in a stopped-up toilet as he fucked 
her frantically, feeling the approach of his own climax. Nan responded 
almost too energetically and Ed had to hold her hips firmly. He plunged his 
prick into her cunt, feeling the pull of its suction clinging and bringing 
him finally to a climax. 

He felt the hot, boiling juice churn within his balls. It rumbled and grew. 
His legs tensed and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her back 
tightly against him, burying his prick to the hilt in her gaping cunt. Then 
his load poured out, filling her with its hot, sticky fluid. She grunted and 
gasped, "Fill me. Fill me. I want it all." 

Ed's body arched like an Apache bow, his body straining to realize each 
minute sensation of his monstrous climax. His cock erupted again and again, 
inundating her pecker-prison with an overly generous amount of virile 
solution. 

Nan bucked and snorted, her body permeated by an all-consuming hunger. Her 
climactic throes failed to dislodge Ed, whose stout member remained 
ensconced within the soggy confines of Nan's pulsating pussy. But finally 
his rigid rapier softened in the heat of her gushing gash. 

As his cock yielded to his physical depletion, Nan also began to regain some 
semblance of normality. Her body was numb and she only stayed on her feet 
because of Ed's hold on her hips. When Ed disengaged his wilted whang from 
her expanded twat, there was only a soft squ-i-i-sh before he looked down to 
check out her wonderful love nest. 

Ed pinched her ass and said, "Baby, you undoubtedly have the wildest vaginal 
vacillations of any female since Cleopatra. From now on you're a member of 
the club." When he let her go, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the 
floor. Ed threw himself over the back of the couch, and Steve just sat there 
looking down at Nan. 

After a few minutes Steve walked over to the bar and mixed himself a drink. 
He gazed at Lilly and Sasha who were both fast asleep on another couch. Ed 
was completely out of it and Nan was worn to a frazzle. He shrugged, walked 
over to the recliner chair, and stretched out. When he finished his drink, 
he too dropped into a deep sleep. 

Lilly was the first to awaken. It was growing dark and Lilly turned on a 
lamp beside the couch. Her eyes took in the sleeping forms around the room. 
Their nakedness made her giggle. Despite the fact that she had indulged in 
these bouts since she had come to work for Mrs. DiMintri two years before, 
it never failed to amuse her to see a room full of naked bodies. 

Quietly she went to the bar and mixed a pitcher full of martinis. Then she 
put a tape on the stereo and turned up the volume just enough to bring the 
other two girls and two men back to the world of fun and games. 

Steve was the first one to awake and Lilly walked over and sat on his lap, 
giving him a drink as she planted her broad ass on his cock. Steve drank and 
at the same time began to fondle the pendulous boobs of the willing maid. 
The areolas surrounding her nipples were bigger than silver dollars and the 
dark veins beneath the almost translucent skin showed plainly. 

Sasha sat up and when she saw Lilly and Steve she said, "What happened to 
the party? Maybe we're all getting too old for this sort of thing," and 
laughed. Steve told her to have a drink, then wake up Nan and Ed. 

"It's a whole new scene, Sasha. Now, we'll get down to some serious 
fornicating. When this night ends, you girls are going to head for the 
hills. Wa-h-o-o-o-o!" 

The girls laughed and Steve's outburst was all it took to bring Ed and Nan 
to life. Nan peered over the back of the couch on which Ed was lying. "What 
time is it? I must see Mrs. DiMintri." 

This statement caused the other four to break up. All of them burst out in 
howls of glee. Ed reached over the back of the couch and pulled Nan over. 
She struggled weakly and protested even more weakly. Then her senses 
returned in a flash and she realized that she had indulged her morbid 
appetite to the delight of the four depraved persons in this room. Now she 
must put an end to it and either see the old lady or try another tack in 
uncovering the real story of Mae Gail Jetty. 

Steve and the two girls watched raptly as Ed and Nan floundered on the 
couch. The more Nan struggled, the more Ed's hands sought out the erogenous 
areas of her nude body. His hands were everywhere and soon Nan's efforts to 
ward off his caresses dwindled to only a token resistance. 

Sasha said, "Say there, how about sharing the goodies? Let's all get in on 
the act. It's time for a circus." Ed yipped with pleasure and pulled Nan to 
her feet. She stood mutely as Sasha walked over and surveyed the voluptuous 
curves of the newest initiate to the DiMintri house orgies. 

She nodded to Ed who pushed Nan back on the couch and Sasha sat down beside 
her. "Now, honey, we'll show these big he-men how women like it best." 

With this pronouncement she put her arm around Nan, who recoiled from the 
touch of another woman. But Sasha was persistent and, when Ed held Nan's 
arms, she was powerless. Sasha pawed the body of the girl, letting her 
fingers dally at the junction of her thighs. After several minutes of this 
Nan no longer felt disgusted by this unusual turn of events. The caresses of 
the raven-haired nurse were fomenting a spark of desire. Ed relaxed his grip 
on her arms, then let her go as he walked over for another drink. 

Sasha nibbled at the budlike nipples of the aroused girl. Nan, her eyes only 
half open, mewled softly and let Sasha have her way. Nan succumbed 
completely to the blandishments of Sasha's knowing lips. Nan's nipples grew 
hard under the nurse's oral manipulations. When Sasha's hand pressed between 
her thighs, Nan obediently spread her legs to give access to her pubic 
region. 

The nurse's fingers lost no time in preliminaries. Her index finger probed 
the pliant vaginal orifice which was still wet and dilated. When her finger 
touched the protruding clitoris, Nan twitched and lay back, legs parted in 
total abandon. Sasha began to finger-fuck her and Nan's rekindled desire 
mounted even more rapidly. 

Steve walked over to join the fray and kneeled over Nan's upturned face, his 
flaccid penis hanging only inches from her lips. Nan looked up at his cock 
and quickly turned her face away. She tried to rise, but Steve held her 
shoulders and Sasha's educated fingers made her forget any idea of escape. 
She kept her face to one side, her nose touching the right knee of Steve. 

Now Sasha's finger moved to the recently reamed asshole of the prostrate 
girl. When her finger moved into the tiny rubbery orifice, Nan twitched and 
groaned, "Oh, no, please don't. Not there. Oh-h-h." 

Sasha worked her finger up the tight rectal passage, arousing in Nan memory 
of what had driven her to a frenzy only a few hours before. Nan's buttocks 
tensed and her sphincter muscle gripped Sasha's finger like a tightening 
rubber band. Sasha twirled her finger inside the warm cavity, increasing 
Nan's yearnings immensely. Sasha leaned over Nan and began laving the proud, 
rosy-tipped breasts. 

Steve let his still limp cock brush over the face of the enthralled girl. 
Nan knew what he was doing, but she was wrapped in the arms of Eros and 
cared nothing of his desires as long as her own craving was fulfilled. The 
fire which burned in her loins could only be quenched by the lecherous 
fingers of Sasha. 

Steve let his cock rest on Nan's red lips and she tried to ignore its 
weight. She thought of what he wanted her to do and her passion mounted as 
she began to think it wouldn't be too bad. Sasha was sucking and biting her 
now hardened nipples and driving her beyond endurance. Nan moaned and as her 
lips parted slightly as the head of Steve's cock moved across her mouth. 

Involuntarily, she licked her lips and her tongue came in contact with his 
prick. Steve smiled down at her and said, "That's it, baby. Now just do what 
comes naturally. Pretend it's the biggest and best popsicle you ever 
tasted." 

Nan hesitated and felt the weight of his cock resting on her mouth. Sasha's 
explorations had brought Nan to the crest of sexual torment. She wanted to 
experience everything. The inhibitions were still there, but they seemed 
very unimportant now. She opened her eyes and directly above, not four 
inches away, were his hairy testicles. The sac hung below his cock like a 
burlap bag with two watermelons within... on a smaller scale, of course. She 
quickly closed her eyes and once again she touched her tongue to the head of 
Steve's limber dick. 

At that moment, Sasha hooked her thumb in Nan's oozing cunt. Nan's twat was 
now captured in Sasha's grip with her index finger still buried in the young 
girl's asshole. The indescribable sensation brought a gasp to her lips and 
the head of Steve's joint slipped into her mouth. Sasha, wanting Nan to do 
Steve's bidding, had been working toward this moment and she pushed her 
advantage with gentle agitation of Nan's private parts. 

Now there was no hesitation. No decision to make. It was what Nan wanted. 
She opened her mouth wide and let Steve's cock fall into the warm wetness of 
her throat. Steve leaned on the back of the couch and looked down at Nan as 
she began to suck his pliant prick. Her lips mouthed it and her cheeks 
depressed as she slowly sucked on the rapidly hardening head. She discovered 
she liked it. The hot throbbing hardness of his big cock in her mouth 
excited her and made her want to please him. 

Sasha moved her head down Nan's body, over her abdomen, pressing her lips to 
each gentle curve of the soft, white flesh. Her mouth brushed over the 
sensitive inner area of each full thigh and Nan writhed violently. Sasha 
pressed her lips to the dripping cunt of the girl and Nan sucked greedily on 
Steve's cock. Her mouth worked hungrily on the thick, throbbing sausagelike 
cock. Her tongue licked and enveloped the hard length of it as Steve slowly 
pushed it even further into her mouth. 

Sasha sucked on the tender lips of Nan's cunt and bit gently at the clitoris 
just within the soft opening. Sasha was in a kneeling position between Nan's 
legs and it was a moment before she felt the hands on her hips. Then she 
felt something probe between her upraised buttocks. Ed slowly pushed his 
blood-gorged penis between the full, fleshy orbs of Sasha's generous ass. 
Sasha wiggled her hips to aid him in probing her waiting rectum. 

She was working herself into a frenzy of unleashed passion. Her tongue 
licked at the hard nub of Nan's clitoris and she sucked at it like a demon. 
Nan tossed and tried to take even more of Steve's turgid cock into her 
mouth. Steve clenched his fists and trembled as his climax approached on 
crashing waves of thunder. 

Lilly, not to be left out of the action, crouched behind Ed and, reaching 
between his legs, fondled his balls. This drove Ed on to mightier thrusts as 
he fucked Sasha's widening asshole. Lilly massaged and squeezed his nuts 
until he came in a climax that filled Sasha's bowels with his thick, creamy 
cum. His prick expanded and spurted like a ruptured firehose inside the 
vibrating tunnel of her lovely ass. 

Sasha, feeling this wonderful explosion of cum within her, renewed her 
mouthing of Nan's cunt. Nan, by now nearing the edge of animal lust, thrust 
her pelvis upward to the searching mouth of the inspired Sasha. 

Steve, close to a climax, was now kneeling over Nan's body, his head just 
above Sasha's bobbing head. Nan sucked harder, trying to bring him to the 
climax she knew must be so near. She wanted his cum to fill her mouth. She 
hungered for it and wanted to taste it as she had with Art Teffler. 

Lilly was now worked up and she pulled Ed off Sasha, his cock still hard and 
ready. She dropped to her knees in front of him and eagerly took his wet 
cock in her mouth. She sucked the dregs of his cum from the expanded slit in 
the swollen head of his huge cock. Ed sat back and let her have her way. He 
knew how much Lilly loved to suck a prick. She really got her best kicks 
when she had a cock in her mouth. Ed was only too happy to oblige her every 
wish. 

Steve moaned, "Now, Nan, now," and he rammed his cock down her throat as his 
balls exploded in a geyser of cum which filled Nan's mouth to overflowing. 
She swallowed, gagged, and choked as the hot, pungent juice spurted into her 
throat. She tried to catch every drop of his love juice, but it spilled out 
of the corners of her mouth and ran down her neck. She moved her head so 
that she just had the throbbing head of his cock in her mouth and sucked to 
get every drop of his load. Steve had been blown many times; but never like 
this. Nan was trying to suck his balls out through the end of his cock and 
he almost wished she could. 

Sasha felt the first twinge of Nan's vulva and then a flood of white, creamy 
gravy poured out of Nan's cunt and Sasha lapped it up like a cat with a bowl 
of milk. She licked and sucked and Nan's contortions almost threw them all 
off the couch. Nan moaned and continued to belabor Steve's wilting prick. 

He let her go on until his rampant rod was just a limp remnant of its former 
glory and then he raised himself. Reluctantly, Nan felt his prick slip from 
her mouth. Steve sat on the floor and watched Nan's final hip-grinding 
twitch. As Sasha looked up, Ed and Steve applauded. 

She gave a smiling bow of her head, cum dripping from her lips. She looked 
up at Nan's face and saw that Nan too had a face full of cum. It was on her 
nose, cheeks, lips, and all over her neck. 

Lilly was still kneeling between Ed's legs as he sat on the couch. She was 
sucking on his penis. Although it was still hard, she knew she would have to 
work on it a long time before he could cum again. Steve and Sasha left them 
to their pleasure and went over to the bar. 

Nan lay there rubbing her cunt, moaning. She wanted more cock and was ready 
for anything. Why didn't one of them do something? Sasha noticed Nan's 
obvious need for further satisfaction and said, "That little broad still 
hasn't had enough." 

She went over to a cabinet beside the bar and took out a long white object. 
Steve laughed and said, "If that isn't enough for her we better quit while 
we're ahead." 

Sasha walked over to the reclining Nan and put the dildo in her hand. "Use 
this, sweetie. It's guaranteed to make or break you." 

Nan looked at the dildo, uncertain what it was to be used for in this sexual 
orgy. Another look told her all she needed to know. It was about a foot long 
and curved gently in the shape of a man's cock. She didn't want to use it, 
at least not in front of these people, but the all-pervading lust which 
filled her had to be satisfied. She turned her mind off to the others, 
ignoring them as she inserted the tip of the dildo into her oozing cunt. 

Ed glanced over at her and said, "You sure are a real cock-walloper, Nan. 
Take it easy with that thing or you'll never be satisfied with a man again." 

Nan didn't even hear him as she pushed the dildo further into her waiting 
cunt. It was thicker than Steve's or Ed's pricks and her cunt stretched 
tightly around the smooth ivory surface. When she had about five inches of 
it up her snatch, she began to fuck herself slowly at first, then faster as 
the unusual dimensions of the dildo aroused her to wild ecstasy. 

Lilly continued to suck Ed's cock and wasn't interested in anything else. Ed 
held her blonde head and moved her mouth up and down on his palpitating 
pole. Nan now had at least ten inches of the dildo rammed up her cunt and 
had just enough to hold onto or she would have to let it go. The onlookers 
urged her to further excesses. Nan, driven beyond all restraint, pushed 
harder and the dildo disappeared completely inside her pussy. Her body 
arched and she uttered an animallike cry which sounded like a cow being 
stuck by a bull. 

She probed with two fingers inside her cunt until she managed to remove it 
far enough so that she could hold it properly and put some action into it. 
Steve and Ed stared wide-eyed at the spectacle of this young girl able to 
take the full length of the dildo and still go on fucking herself with the 
instrument. 

Nan worked the hard dildo in and out, taking all but the last inch of it on 
each inward stroke. She groaned, grunted, and grasped as it penetrated her 
vagina, but she didn't stop. 

At last she came and thrust her pelvis upward in a last mighty motion as she 
buried the dildo in her cavernous cunt. Again and again, she felt the spurt 
of her cum, like the plucking of a guitar string. The tune of lust in her 
mind reached a crescendo and then melted into a hazy euphoria. She felt like 
she had been drugged or had taken too much to drink. 

Someone shook her shoulders and she opened her eyes. Sasha was standing next 
to the couch. "You better fish that thing out, honey. It's not doing you any 
good now." 

Nan realized then that the dildo was completely submerged in the 
liquid-filled depths of her pussy. She pulled it out slowly with her thumb 
and forefinger. It was slimy and wet. The globules of cum adhered to the 
surface and it looked monstrous. Nan could hardly believe she had taken all 
of that. Just yesterday she didn't believe she could even take the normal 
length of a man's cock, and now she had graduated to even bigger and better 
things. 

Lilly was just bringing Ed to a climax and Ed was urging her on. Nan watched 
the bobbing head of the girl and the action of her lips around the shaft of 
hard, throbbing meat. Lilly took his entire cock into her mouth each time 
she went down on it and Nan was amazed that Ed's big prick didn't choke 
Lilly. When Ed came, Lilly sucked like a calf to catch all of his hot, 
steaming cum. 

Nan got to her feet and, though shaky, managed to get her clothes on and 
announced to the others that she was going to leave unless they let her talk 
with old Mrs. DiMintri. 

Steve laughed, but Sasha apparently decided they had pulled Nan's leg long 
enough. 

"You can't talk to the old lady," she said. 

"After what you've put me through, why not?" 

They all laughed at this. 

"Don't try to tell us you didn't enjoy it," laughed Steve. 

Nan blushed, despite herself. "That doesn't explain why I can't see Mrs. 
DiMintri." 

"She's senile," Sasha explained. "When she's coherent, which isn't often, 
she only remembers her childhood. She doesn't recognize anyone, not even her 
own child. I can take you up to her if you want, but it won't do you any 
good." 

Nan was furious at this admission. "You bastards!" she screamed at them. 
"Why didn't you tell me that at first?" 

"And miss all the fun?" smiled Steve, walking her to the door. 

"You've made me waste a whole day." Nan was near tears. 

Steve saw she was truly angry, so he relented. 

"Have you talked to Mary Lipsher?" he asked as he opened the big front door. 

"No. Not yet." 

"Well, she knows more about Mae than anyone does... and she knows where all 
the bodies are buried." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The dreadful realization of what had happened the night before at the old 
woman's home overwhelmed Nan before she came fully awake the next morning 
and nearly submerged her in a sea of guilt and shame. God, she thought, that 
such a thing could happen to me-and what is worse, that I should submit as I 
did. 

Despite a healing bath and night's sleep, Nan was still in considerable 
pain, and she moaned as her tortured posterior came in contact with the bed 
when she rolled over to get up. Sliding out of bed to stand tottering on the 
floor, she was immediately confronted with the necessity of making a 
decision-something no self-respecting person is willing to do first thing in 
the morning. Was she to abandon the story at this point-let the true story 
of Mae Gail Jetty sink into oblivion and admit that she'd blown her first 
big chance to prove herself as a reporter-or was she going to tough it out 
and get to the bottom of what her instincts assured was a great, potentially 
shattering scoop? 

As she slid her nightgown over her head, the full-length wall mirror echoed 
the vision of her tiny, perfectly formed body. A sigh escaped Nan's lips at 
the sight. So much, she thought, I've given up so much already. What would 
it be worth if I stopped now? 

A cup of coffee helped restore her resolve. Slipping into fresh 
underclothes, nylons, and her prettiest green minidress completed the 
process, and by 8:30 she was ready to return to her assignment. A glance at 
her notes told Nan what was next. Mary Lipsher: well-heeled lady about town, 
friend of the mighty and former confidential associate of Mae Gail Jetty. 

Lipsher-Lipsher... there were only three in the phone book-Mary's was the 
second. Her address was listed as 202 The Towers, one of New Toronto's 
ultra-modern, ultra-posh high-rise cooperative apartment houses. 

Nan picked up the phone, dialed the first three numbers, then stopped and 
let the receiver fall back into the cradle. No sense losing the element of 
surprise, she thought. For once on this assignment, I may have it on my 
side, and every little bit helps. Especially in trying to talk to this 
crowd. 

"Hold it, little lady, where do you think you're going?" The voice froze Nan 
in midstride as she was reaching for the double glass doors of The Towers. 
She looked about, couldn't see the man who had spoken, then spotted the 
grilled speaker above the door and the glass eye of the television camera 
next to it. 

"Press," she said, drawing herself up to her full five feet and speaking as 
imperiously as one can to a damned electric contraption. "To see Miss 
Lipsher." 

"She expecting you, press?" the voice sounded a bit less authoritative. 

"Why don't you check?" Nan demanded. 

"That won't be necessary," the voice answered. "May I see your credentials, 
please?" 

In sheer triumph, Nan removed her press card from her purse and waved it in 
front of the TV camera. "Satisfied?" she snapped. 

"Yes," the voice said. "I hope you will be." With that cryptic remark the 
door in front of her clicked and sighed a few inches inward, yielding a 
tantalizing waft of air-conditioned comfort. 

Nan entered the carpeted lobby which contained two settees, an end table 
with flowers, and two elevator doors, both open. The front door closed 
Softly and the electronic lock gave a subdued but authoritative click. 

Apartment 202, she discovered, was the whole flaming second floor-nearly 
half a city block. The elevator disgorged Nan in a rather dull, featureless 
foyer that was anticlimactic after played-down luxury of the lobby. She rang 
the bell, half hoping Miss Lipsher was out, but after only a few seconds it 
was obvious Miss Lipsher was very much in. 

Large, big-boned, well built and an incredibly young forty, Mary Lipsher 
stood framed in the open door, smiling warmly. "Yes?" she asked in a deep, 
yet soft voice. 

Ah, thought Nan. At last, somebody in this weird setup I can talk to without 
getting molested, lied to, or worse. "Miss Lipsher," she said, "I'm Nan 
Flanders. I'm a reporter for the Gazette. I'm here on assignment. Do you 
mind if I come in?" 

"I know who you are, my dear. And I know what you're after. I've received a 
half-dozen phone calls about you in the past three days, most of them from 
Mae's useless relatives and all of them advising me to tell you nothing." A 
smile warmed her face-all but her eyes, which had a peculiar animal hardness 
and hunger about them that was new to Nan. "Come in," she said. 

The living room was needlessly huge and decorated in a cross between rococco 
and early wedding cake. Everything was either white, or white trimmed in 
gold and there wasn't a straight line anywhere. Every chair, table, couch, 
and windowsill curled and rolled and wriggled hideously. The shag on the 
white carpet was three inches deep and the couches and chairs were covered 
with what Nan took to be the pelts of long-haired, white dogs. 

"Sit down, my dear," Mary said, indicating a couch nearly eight feet long. 
"Coffee? Tea? A drink?" 

"Coffee, please," Nan said. She sat squarely in the center of the huge couch 
and immediately felt lost, as if she'd fallen in the midst of a snow bank. 
The couch's cushions reached up to embrace her hips and buttocks 
lasciviously and she thought for a moment she would sink clean out of sight 
in the unbelievably soft thing. 

Mary was back in a trice, floating noiselessly through the vast white sea of 
carpet with two dainty white cups exactly half full of steaming coffee. The 
cups, each precisely centered in a gold-trimmed, white saucer of rose-petal 
delicacy, were placed on the glass surface of a serpentine-legged coffee 
table located exactly in the center of the area before the immense couch. 

"Now, my dear," Mary said, sitting close beside Nan, "how may I help you?" 

Briefly, Nan outlined her assignment-how she'd gotten onto the story and 
what she suspected might be the true background of Mae Gail Jetty. As she 
talked, Mary's hand, resting on the cushion between them, stroked and petted 
the white fur covering as if it were the flanks of some beloved pet-or of a 
lover. 

"And what have you gotten so far?" Mary asked softly, when Nan had completed 
her narrative. 

"Nothing," she said, looking at the floor. 

"Nothing? Or nothing useful to your story?" 

"Both." 

"I find that difficult to believe. You see, I know the people you've talked 
to. I know most of them intimately, if you'll forgive a tiny pun, and I'm 
relatively certain you've gotten a good deal more than you bargained for." 

Nan's hands slid up her thighs and clasped over her stomach convulsively at 
the memory of her last three days, but she said nothing and tried earnestly 
to stare a hole through Mary Lipsher's white shag carpet. 

"Exactly as I thought," Mary said. "Did they hurt you?" 

"Yes, oh, yes," Nan sobbed, and suddenly her head was resting on Mary's 
shoulder and she was pouring out the whole monstrous story. Mary listened 
and she clucked and her arm encircled Nan's shoulder comfortingly as the 
young girl's tale of woe gushed tearily all over her shoulder. 

To her complete amazement, Nan suddenly felt Mary's hand leave her shoulder 
and move to her breast. The long delicate fingers cupped that green-draped 
orb and gently squeezed it. Nan fell silent and sat transfixed With 
amazement. 

Mary's head dipped and her cheek was against Nan's other breast, nuzzling 
it. Nan's amazement changed briefly to revulsion, then to something quite 
different. Mary's hair was near her face and its scent, darkly mysterious 
and sensuous, combined with the manipulations of her breasts set a tiny 
flame flickering in her loins. 

"Poor baby," Mary cooed, rubbing and stroking Nan's breasts softly. "Poor, 
poor baby. They've made it so bad for you when it can be so very, very good. 
You believe that, don't you? That it can be very good?" 

"Yes," Nan said softly. "I believe it." Her mouth had gone quite dry so that 
she swallowed several times convulsively. 

In a trice, Mary had unbuttoned the top three buttons of Nan's dress and her 
hand was inside, cupping first one breast, then the other, as she softly 
kissed Nan's throat and the creamy flesh of the tops of her breasts above 
her bra. Exercising the knowledge that only a woman could possess, Mary's 
hand expertly entered one cup of Nan's bra and the fingertips probed for the 
pink nipple which, despite Nan's feelings that this was all wrong, rose to 
meet them. 

Lord, Nan thought, what am I doing? What is she doing to me and why am I 
letting her do it? I've got to get her out of my bra and myself to hell out 
of here. But at that moment, it became too late. 

Mary's other hand, the free one that had lain discreetly on the other side 
of her, whipped across her body like a striking cobra and was under Nan's 
skirt and probing between her thighs before Nan could react. 

"Oh," she sigh-sobbed, as the fingers pressed against her pubic bone and, 
for one tantalizing instant, brushed the nylon-covered lips of her vagina. 

Then both hands were gone from inside her clothes, and for some reason Nan 
felt a lonely disappointment at their going. They were soft and gentle 
though insistent, and her body had responded gladly. 

She needn't have feared that Mary was breaking off the offensive, however. 
She had merely stopped to bring up fresh reserves. Now Nan's eyes would be 
used as a fifth column against her will to resist the delights that awaited 
her. 

It seemed as if Mary's hands hardly stopped as they slid across the 
fasteners of her skirt and blouse, and in seconds the older woman was 
gloriously nude. Her great breasts, capped by brownishly pink nipples, 
bobbed arrogantly at Nan and her perfect body squirmed against the white fur 
of the couch as she twisted this way and that to get rid of the final pieces 
of clothing. For one tantalizing second, her thighs pointed at Nan and the 
dark curls of red-lipped opening of her love nest were offered. Then she 
turned away. 

Nan pinched her eyes tightly shut. Lord God almighty, she bellowed at 
herself in the secret privacy of her mind, what are you doing? You were 
looking at that woman's vagina and actually enjoying the sight. Lusting 
after her. How hideous. Get out of here, Nan. 

But her mental aloneness was invaded again by Mary's questing fingers. This 
time they were applying their female expertise to Nan's clothes which were 
deftly stripped away in an amazingly short time. 

Cool, air-conditioned air wafted across her nude body and she felt the 
delightfully cool softness of the white fur beneath her buttocks and thighs. 
Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she told herself over and over that it was 
all a weird dream-that she'd awaken any second at home in her own bed. But 
Mary's lips and tongue assured her that this was indeed reality as they 
found the nipples of her ripe young breasts and sucked each in turn hungrily 
into her mouth. 

The tiny fire in Nan's loins burst into a full-blown wildfire of passion at 
the sensation, and her hands went up to become lost in Mary's hair and to 
encourage her assaults on Nan's breasts. Mary's tongue fairly lashed at 
Nan's nipples at the encouragement, and one hand drifted softly down across 
her belly to fondle the nest of soft curls at its base. 

Nan's hips commenced rotating of their own volition, pushing her pubic area 
against Mary's hand, and she couldn't make the motion cease no matter how 
hard she tried. 

Suddenly Mary's lips were gone from her breasts and were tracing a line of 
fire down her belly toward that blazing inferno of passion between her legs. 
My lord, she thought, if she doesn't stop soon, she'll have to kiss my 
vagina. The thought of a woman doing that to her was revolting for a tiny 
instant, but as Mary's lips dropped lower and lower and her hand pressed 
harder and harder against her pubic bone, the thought became less and less 
revolting to Nan until she came to the realization that if Mary didn't kiss 
her soon she would surely die. 

Somewhere far off, in another room, or another world or another universe, 
someone was moaning and cooing and mewling in desire and passion-begging for 
fulfillment. To her utter shock, Nan realized it was her. Her fingers were 
digging convulsively into Mary's hair, trying to force her head lower and 
lower. Mary's lips and tongue were in her pubic hair, replacing her fingers, 
and Nan's hips were gyrating. Mary's hand went to her knees and slowly 
parted them. Now, Nan thought. Oh, God, yes, now is the time. I'm just like 
her. Just like Mae Gail Jetty. So what the hell? Why shouldn't I do this, 
this ultimate thing. At least there's no hurting involved. 

As if she could read Nan's mind, Mary chuckled deep in her throat and said, 
"Now I'll show you how good it can be. How it was meant to be, with no 
hurting. And only we women can understand. As only we can do for each 
other." 

Hands and arms encouraged Nan to lie down, to disengage her fingers from 
Mary's hair. Then soft hands lifted one leg to place her foot on the couch 
back and the other leg to let her foot drop to the floor. Dreamily, she 
opened her eyes and stared blearily at the snowy ceiling that teemed a 
million miles above her. For a second, Mary's head was in view, then it 
vanished below the mound of Nan's breasts, and she could feel those lips 
puckering in anticipation as Mary's mouth moved closer and closer. 

Just at the moment Nan feared she would die of anticipation, Mary's lips 
touched, then closed on her cunt and pressed the lips of it in a soft kiss. 

"AAAAAAEEEEEEHHHHH," Nan yelped in sheer delight, and her hands flew to 
Mary's head in a convulsive effort to pull all of her inside Nan's aching, 
flaming cunt where a river of white-hot lava was coursing down the cavity 
toward Mary's lips. The action drove Mary into a frenzy and, without 
warning, her tongue lashed out and shot between the lips of Nan's dripping, 
puckering, blazing cunt. 

Each nerve in Nan's body seemed, for the first time in her life, to be 
gloriously alive and casting about for sensation, and all of them seemed to 
end in the glowing pussy where Mary's tongue was working miracles of 
passionate delight. 

Nan's womb ached and quaked as Mary's tongue slid from front to back, from 
left to right, below the surface of her cunt, then probed deep toward the 
door of her womb and withdrew. Nan's clitoris peeped inquiringly out of its 
tiny foreskin and was immediately rewarded and Mary's tongue found it. Then 
it was sucked up into Mary's mouth and nibbled at gently and allowed to 
retire to its rightful place at the top of Nan's cunt where it got a good 
tongue lashing. 

"Oooohhh, Ggggooooddd," Nan moaned, staring pop-eyed at the ceiling and 
trying to scalp Mary with her fingernails. Mary's tongue answered by dipping 
once, twice, three times deep into Nan's cunt, then slowly pulling back with 
a sucking sound to return to her quivering clitoris. Mary's hands found the 
white globes of Nan's ass and squeezed them, forcing her hips off the couch 
and the lips of Nan's cunt into her mouth. Then one finger probed at her 
asshole and forced its way in. 

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE," Nan screamed in pain and passion as her ass 
shot toward the sky and her cunt was completely impaled on Mary's tongue, 
which seemed to have grown nine feet long. 

Now something new was happening. Never losing her mouth's grip on Nan's 
cunt, Mary was rising off the couch and shifting. Her knees transported her 
across the rug so that her body was half laid across Nan's, with her heavy, 
hard-tipped breasts pressing against her quivering belly. Mary's leg rose so 
that her knee rested on the edge of the couch and her hips were half on and 
half off. As her lips and tongue sucked, laved, and probed at Nan's cunt, 
her hips began a slow gyration, driving her own hungry cunt into the fur 
couch cover beside Nan's cheek. 

She wants me to do it to her, too, Nan realized in horrified revulsion. She 
wants me to lick and suck her cunt like she's doing to me. In awful 
fascination, Nan watched Mary's rotating hips as they turned toward her and 
her smooth, white thigh slid across her cheek. As it completed its slow 
march to Nan's other ear, Mary's beautiful, red-lipped, dripping cunt came 
into view just inches from her mouth. 

Mary's hips continued to rotate lasciviously as she adjusted herself atop 
Nan, and her tongue, teeth, and lips kept Nan's cunt ablaze as her own 
passion slit inched ever nearer Nan's lips. I can't do it, Nan thought 
desperately. I just can't. I love what's happening to me, and I know it 
would give her as great a feeling, but I just can't. 

But once again, Nan's clitoris did her dirt. It rose on wings of passion and 
flew again into Mary's mouth to be nibbled, lipped, and tongued, and in a 
spasm of pure delight unfelt by human soul since the garden of Eden, Nan 
grasped the pale bulbs of Mary's ass and pulled her triumphant cunt to her 
mouth. The taste, instead of something revolting, was of musk and honey at 
the first kiss. Then, timidly at first, she let her tongue slide past the 
lips of Mary's cunt and tasted the sweet juice of passion. It was delicious 
and exciting, and the warm depths of Mary's soft, moist cunt dragged her 
tongue onward, and the sensations her mouth was receiving blended with the 
sensations in her cunt to set her entire body aboil. 

The two flames that were Mary and Nan melted together, combined, danced, and 
weaved in an orgy of delight, then melted together again. They sucked, 
smacked, writhed, and twisted in mewling submission to one another for what 
seemed to Nan to be an eternity, then an explosive charge built up in Nan's 
stomach and began working toward her dripping, rolling, boiling pussy. For 
the first time in her short life, she was feeling the approach of a massive 
orgasm and for an instant it scared hell out of her. But only for an 
instant. Then she was aboard the crest of the wave of passion, riding it 
toward climax, just as she explosively reached her own moment of fruition 
and bit down hard on Mary's quaking, aching clitoris. 

"Iiii'mmmm Coooommmmmiiinnnnggg," Nan screamed, her feet shooting up to aim 
at the white ceiling and her head snapping away from Mary's cunt. 

"Aaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh," Mary shrieked, her back arching and her heavy 
breasts boring into Nan's defenseless stomach. 

After she'd stopped quaking, Mary rolled to the floor and lay on her back, 
legs akimbo and panting in absolute satisfaction that was matched by Nan's 
satisfied breathing. "See?" Mary said. "It can be good, can't it?" 

"Oh, boy, can it ever," Nan whooped in triumph. She rolled over and fell off 
the couch onto Mary and buried her tongue deep in the older woman's cunt, 
then drew back and sat on the edge of the couch to take a sip of her cold 
coffee, which tasted bland after the delights she'd just experienced. 

They dressed in contented silence, and Nan hardly noticed that her panties 
were missing. They had discreetly vanished beneath one of the cushions of 
the love couch. Soon they would join other pairs of panties in a most secret 
trophy case in a most secret room in a corner of the huge apartment. 

"Oh, yes," Mary Lipsher said as she was letting Nan out the door. "You came 
for information about Mae." 

"Good grief," Nan said slinkily. "I completely forgot." 

Mary smiled knowingly. "Good," she said. "Incidentally, you were absolutely 
right in your suspicions about Mae, but all I can give you is my word on 
that. If it's proof you're after, it exists. Mae liked her looks and her 
love and she made movies, took photos, and kept journals." 

"Great. All I have to do is get my hands on them. Are they here in New 
Toronto?" 

"Oh, they're here, all right, in Mae's upstairs study in the old Jetty 
place." 

"The Jetty place! So close all the time. Do you have a key?" 

"No. There's only one, and I hate to think of the price you'll have to pay 
to get it." 

"Who has it?" 

"Art Teffler, my dear." 

"Shit." 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Nan floated dreamily down in the elevator and drifted out of The Towers in a 
warm fog of sexual euphoria. As the glass doors clicked into place behind 
her, she was hardly aware of the soft chuckle that drifted from the speaker 
grille. 

I may have just died and gone to heaven, she thought as she stood on the 
sidewalk, seeing nothing, allowing the warm Southern California breeze to 
waft up beneath her minidress to dry her still-moist, bare pussy. Her romp 
with Mary on the furry couch had been singularly satisfying for two reasons, 
Nan decided. First, it had been absolutely blissful, and second, she now 
felt as if she were physically and psychologically closer to Mae Gail Jetty. 

And it was so very important for her to capture that great lady's real 
character and makeup before they were forever entombed in the stuff of 
mythology. All the good she did must not be allowed to completely submerge 
the rest of her being. And neither, Nan decided, must the memory of any of 
her early peccadilloes be permitted to taint the good things of Mae Gail 
Jetty. 

In order to decide how much to reveal in print, Nan first had to see the 
woman's memoirs and films. And to see them, she first had to get the key to 
the Jetty mansion. And in order to obtain the key, she must... Bitter, sick 
humiliation washed over her and she nearly gagged. But, she decided, what 
must be must be. Turning, she began the short walk to her car. And instantly 
froze. 

Leaning against a lamppost near Nan's car and failing miserably to be 
inconspicuous, was Aaron Stemfelder, cur extraordinary and curse of the 
journalistic world. 

So! The Telegram was onto the story of Mae Gail Jetty, and it had assigned 
its most tenacious and least-principled reporter to the job. The long, 
skinny, lazy bastard hadn't even the courage and determination to dig up his 
own yarn-he much preferred to ooze along in Nan's wake until the proper 
moment, then step in, seize the dirt, and blast the Jetty memory to 
smithereens. 

How much Stemfelder knew or guessed, Nan couldn't know, but she was sure as 
hell not going to give him any more without a fight. Turning on her heel, 
she marched away from her car and down the sidewalk. Glancing in a store 
window, she could see the reflection of Stemfelder shuffling along behind 
her at an indiscreet twenty paces. The rat doesn't want to play ditchit, she 
thought, so I'll have to lose him another way. 

Ducking quickly into a women's shop next to an alley, Nan marched straight 
through the shop and into the restroom at the rear. Since she was in a John, 
she took advantage of the appliances, then looked for a bolt-hole. Sure 
enough, there was a delivery entrance onto the alley at the side of the 
small stockroom. Opening it, she stepped into a typical 
box-and-garbage-can-strewn alley and let the door click shut. As insurance, 
she stayed close to the wall and jammed a tall wooden box against the outer 
doorknob. There, she decided, that'll hold him while I go around a few 
blocks and sneak back to my car. Then she turned and for the first time 
discovered she'd stepped into a blind alley. 

Caught like a stupid little rat in a trap... impaled on her own blithering 
incompetence. Ever since she'd begun this assignment she'd been walking 
headfirst into self-made stupid situations and here she was again, hung out 
to dry. This time, worst of all, she'd fouled up and made herself appear 
stupid in a duel with another newspaper reporter. And, she decided, she 
really was stupid. 

Her mental self-flagellation was halted by the appearance of an elongated 
shadow at the open end of the alley. Stemfelder had caught onto her gambit 
more quickly than she would have believed. Now what? She couldn't just mosey 
out of the alley past him, whistling a merry tune. He already knew what a 
dumb little broad she was. Frantically, she reached for the store's 
doorknob. Locked, naturally. Then she saw it. 

Near the rear of the alley stood a huge wooden beer barrel with piles of 
wooden crates alongside it. A wooden lid was on top of the barrel which 
looked big enough to hold Nan. Now if only it wasn't full of trash... She 
ran to it, climbed the boxes alongside, raised the lid, and peered in. Thank 
heaven it was empty save for an untidy pile of discarded clothing at the 
bottom. Sliding her legs over the barrel's rim, Nan dropped in. 

Peter Dingle knew he had lived through another night of besotted bliss and 
was awakening, because he was aware of light passing through a knothole and 
his cock was beginning to stiffen. 

For nearly twenty years, since he'd given up the pretense of being a mere 
mortal and had given himself over to the delights of a daily quart of wine, 
Peter Dingle had slept every night in this same beer barrel and had greeted 
each new day with a self-satisfying masturbation. 

During those two decades he had neither toiled, nor had he been cold sober. 
Also, he'd not bathed, had changed clothes only once that he was sure of, 
and had never shaved or had his hair cut. In fact, all he had done was to 
occasionally move his barrel from one alley to another when it became 
painfully apparent that either the police or the Salvation Army had 
discovered where he was holed up. Both had been after Peter Dingle for 
twenty years, and he was certain both had a price on his head. 

This morning was no different than any other and it could be no different. 
At exactly 11 a. m. sunlight entered a knothole in the side of his barrel, 
awakening him. He would jack off for approximately seven minutes, cum 
explosively through the knothole, take a short nap, then leave his barrel 
long enough to swipe or panhandle a quart of wine. That was the ordained 
order of things and that was exactly how Peter Dingle liked things to be. 

In two decades there had been but one worthwhile variation. On that 
delightful occasion, an uncertain number of mornings ago, a tomcat had been 
passing his barrel's knothole just at the moment of truth and had been 
whitewashed into shrieking flight. Ah, no matter. That was another time, in 
another alley. This was today, and he was here, and his swelling cock 
awaited proper attention. 

Stroking it, he let himself fall into creative reverie. What fantasy should 
it be for today? The queen of Spain? The fat lady in the circus? The sexy 
midget? Yes, that was it. The sexy midget. No such creature existed, of 
course, but Peter Dingle and his imaginative cock liked to think so. A true 
living doll, tiny, perfectly proportioned and with a cunt desirous of being 
filled. Yes, that was the perfect one. His mind built an image of her and 
his fingers wrapped gently but firmly around the shaft of his cock. This 
will be a classic jackoff, he told himself dreamily as he began to pull 
slowly upon his staff of life. 

Then everything fell apart at once. There was a terrible shaking and 
rattling of the boxes next to Peter's barrel-so shocking that he broke his 
rhythm. As if that weren't bad enough, the cover of his barrel was suddenly 
and unceremoniously lifted and the barrel moved slightly as somebody first 
looked in, then entered. 

It was one of those rare moments that pass in extreme slow motion, so that 
each nuance is transmitted from the eye to the brain. Peter's hand never 
left his cock, and his mind came only halfway out of its fantasizing. But he 
cast one eye balefully upward. There, suspended in midair above his head, 
drifting slowly down toward him, was a cunt. He hadn't seen one in twenty 
years, but Peter's memory was fairly sharp on such things, and, by the Great 
Horned Spoon, that was a cunt if ever he'd seen one. To port and starboard 
of the delightful, muff-covered crease were creamy thighs, and above all 
billowed what appeared to be a green parachute. 

Could he, indeed, have died during the night? Had he crossed the Styx all 
unbeknownst and entered into his final reward? Unlikely, he decided. The 
female apparition descending toward him had the proper holes in the proper 
places, and he was sure they wouldn't have in the sort of hell reserved for 
him. 

So this must still be earth, and Peter Dingle must still be alive. And for 
some reason, the Almighty was answering the prayers of inconsequential 
little Irish winos this particular morning. Peter had no idea why this 
female of the species with the bare snatch had been dropped through the lid 
of his barrel, but he wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth, or 
a gift piece of ass in the reasons. 

"Thank you, sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Peter muttered, crossing 
himself. At the last instant he remembered to toss in a postscript of thanks 
to St. Patrick, then he reached up and let his hand enfold the descending 
cunt and bottom just above his head and guided it toward his madly throbbing 
cock. 

The cunt and its surrounding hairs were soft, warm, and moist, exactly as 
Peter Dingle had remembered them. The lips were so moist that his middle 
finger slipped between them with no difficulty at all as he guided the 
creature downward. Heaven be praised, as he lowered the cunt into his 
bailiwick, it was followed by a sexy midget. This was, indeed, a day of 
complete miracles. A day to rival cumming on a tomcat. She was perfect. 
Tiny, beautiful, round, small-waisted and big titted. He sat her sideways on 
his stomach just as she was preparing to let out a scream of shocked 
outrage, which he saw coming, and clapped his hand over her nose and mouth. 

"Whoa, there, m'love," he croaked obscenely into her ear, taking a tiny 
nibble at the lobe. "God's gifts aren't to balk at being accepted." 

A look of sick terror crossed the tiny creature's lovely face and her eyes 
bulged hideously, as if she were about to vent her gorge at the sight, 
sound, and odor of Peter Dingle. That, in fact, was what Nan was about to 
do, but he quashed the idea when he peered through his knothole and 
whispered, "So that's what it's about. You're being chased. Softly, now, 
m'dear. He's at the far end of the alley, but he's coming in. Stay very, 
very, still, and he'll never suspect you're in here with old Peter Dingle." 

A wine-soaked individual he might be, and most wretched of God's creatures 
he certainly was, but Peter Dingle was no idiot, and he put two and two 
together with amazing alacrity. What it added up to was that this lovely 
little leprechaun on his lap, and whose pussy he was massaging, was being 
chased by the cur in the alley and that he, Peter Dingle, was in the 
agreeable position of being able to offer sanctuary in exchange for nookie. 

"Ah, my dear child, 'tis one of Satan's own dark demons, that creature 
that's pursuing you," Peter purred, his voice assuming the well-oiled tones 
of an expert in retirement and his finger moving about, exploring the 
delightful recesses of her cunt. "But you needn't be fearing him. We'll see 
that you stay nice and safe. Just slide about here, m'love and make yourself 
comfortable." Reluctantly removing his hand from her cunt, Peter softly took 
her knee and passed it over his head, so that she sat facing him. As he did 
so, her delightful love nest winked invitingly at him, and his cock bucked 
and snorted in anticipation. 

Why me, God? Nan screamed in the silent cavity of her mind. How and why can 
this be happening to me? The shock had overwhelmed her when she realized the 
heap of filthy rags at the bottom of the barrel had come to life, so that 
everything else to this point had come as something of an anticlimax. The 
hand grabbing her cunt, the finger entering it, the unbelievable, 
overwhelming stench at the bottom of the barrel, the filthy hand that 
smelled of unwashed genitals clapped over her mouth, the rasping voice from 
the hideous, white-bearded face opposite her, then the smooth invitation to 
share the monster's safety had been rapidly descending shocks. 

Now this. Her leg passing over his head and his red-rimmed eyes gazing 
rheumily at her cunt, then finding herself being adjusted onto his lap 
again. She was had, and she knew it. 

No escape. The rat was in the trap once again through blind stupidity, and 
Nan knew once again her cunt was going to be the supreme victim of her 
ignorance. 

"Now then, m'love," the ripe old one cooed, "you most surely don't want to 
make any noise and let that creature out there know you're in here with old 
Peter Dingle." He removed his putrid hand from her mouth and Nan remained 
silent, taking in great gulps of air, "I thought not," he said, putting both 
hands under her bottom and lifting her. "There, now, that's better, isn't 
it?" As he lowered her, Nan felt her cunt being invaded by a cock that, 
since she couldn't see it in the dark, was made huge by her imagination. And 
it was big. Peter had built it by hand and he had built well. Too well. A 
sheet of white-hot pain shot up Nan's cunt, past her womb and fairly ripped 
a screech of agony from her throat. 

"Whoop, there, m'love, softly," Peter grated, releasing her bottom to clap 
his hand back over her mouth. Having been suddenly dropped, Nan fell all the 
way, driving Peter Dingle's huge cock past the hilt into her protesting 
pussy. 

"Mmmmmmmrrrrnnnnnneuuuff," she silently bellowed as Peter's hand dammed up 
her mouth and kept the scream in. Since the pain couldn't escape through her 
mouth in the form of a scream, it vented through her asshole in the guise of 
a long, drawn-out, moist fart. 

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh," sighed Peter, "that's much better." With that he uncovered 
her mouth again and unbuttoned the front of her dress. "What's needed is a 
little frosting on the cake." 

Nan sat quietly gasping, impaled on the monstrous cock of this obscene 
little old barrel-dweller, undecided whether she most wanted to vomit or die 
in agony at the pain of his root forcing its way into her womb. And now his 
hands were pawing at her dress and her bra-scratching and digging at her 
breasts, which suddenly came free as her bra was unhooked. As her 
pink-tipped pleasure mounds bounced out of her dress, Peter Dingle grabbed 
the closest one, raised it to his lips and sucked the nipple hungrily into 
his mouth. At the same time, his great cock, which had been at rest since it 
invaded her, bucked deep inside Nan, triggering nerve endings she didn't 
know she possessed, and which, together with the nerves in her breasts and 
the fact that her cunt had just been lovingly eaten, sabotaged her. 

Both nipples shot straight out, one to be gripped by Peter Dingle's pinching 
fingers, the other to be nipped by his broken, yellowed teeth. At the same 
time, Nan's hips, working against her will, tried to rotate. Stop, goddamn 
you, she screamed in the mind at her traitorous breasts and cunt. Stop it 
this instant! There can be no pleasure in being raped by this obscene, 
inhuman slug of a thing. But her breasts sneered at her and went on enjoying 
being tweaked, sucked, and bitten. And at that moment her treacherous 
clitoris joined with her womb and hips, as the little member again rose from 
its foreskin, demanding its fair share of the booty. 

"Uuuunnnnhhhhuuuuunnnnnhhhhh, uuuunnnnhhhh," Nan moaned in rhythm with the 
suction on her nipple and the throbbing of Dingle's cock deep within her and 
the more violent rotations and gyrations of her hips and ass. Dingle glanced 
out his knothole and removed her nipple from his mouth long enough to warn 
her to be still, that Stemfelder was still in the alley, but that he was 
rapidly losing interest. 

Nan froze at the memory of the emaciated bastard who had pursued her 
straight onto the cock at the bottom of the barrel. For an instant she was 
half tempted to cry out for help and have Stemfelder rescue her from her 
impalement. But she knew she couldn't. To Nan being seen like this would 
have been even more humiliating than being forced upon Peter Dingle's peg. 

And besides, her pussy, still half hungry from its eating, was at the point 
of totally sabotaging her. Under Mary's mouth, it had learned to pucker, to 
kiss while being kissed, and now it was experimenting with Peter Dingle's 
cock as it had toyed with Mary's tongue. First the lips of her cunt, then 
the whole passage, clear to hex; womb, was puckering around the big cock it 
enfolded, and sucking and fucking it deeper and deeper into her. 

The lips of her cunt worked at the base of his cock and pulled his pubic 
hair, forcing his balls to scrunch up. Further down within the recesses of 
her, Nan's vaginal passage quivered and undulated like the sensuous gullet 
of a love serpent, playing with every inch of Dingle's long shaft, while at 
the head, the tiny opening of her womb contracted and expanded in rhythm 
with the lips of her cunt, nibbling maddeningly at the head of his cock. 

"Oooooofffff," Dingle muttered. "Gently, girl, gently. I'm not as young as I 
once was. You'll kill me for sure. I can't fuck you back. Damn you, you 
little wench, your cunt's biting my cock off." 

At that moment, thankfully for Nan, Stemfelder gave up in disgust, assuming 
she'd given him the slip and, in the heat of drink, wandered off in search 
of a bar. 

Nan's cunt and breasts could no longer tolerate this soft, secret, quiet 
licking and dicking. They had to be fucked properly and they had to have it 
right now. Pulling back from Dingle she got his cock halfway out of her cunt 
and drove it back in once, twice, a third time. 

"Oh, my God, lass, you're a real one, aren't you?" Dingle chortled, checking 
his knothole to make certain Nan's pursuer had given up the chase. "Well, 
then, m'dear, let's you and me give it a real fuck, shall we?" he said, 
backing all the way out of Nan, taking dead aim and driving his cock home 
with all the force of twenty years of wine-soaked masturbating behind it. 

"Aaaaarrrrrrggghhhhhh," Nan screamed, as the swollen head of Dingle's cock 
shot the full length of her vaginal passage and tried to violate her uterus. 
"Sssstttooppp. Yoooouuuu'rree kiiillliiinnnnnnggggggg mee!" she howled. 

"Nothing of the sort, old darlin'," Dingle cackled, pulling back and sliding 
his cock in and out just at the lips of Nan's blazing cunt. "Nothing of the 
sort. Just gettin' things well oiled for the fun to come." Placing his hands 
on Nan's ass, he slowly pulled her to him again, burying his cock in her 
without as much speed this time. 

"Uuuuunnnnnggggghhhhh," she moaned, as her cunt again took up the task of 
slurping away at his cock. 

"My sentiments exactly," Dingle said. "Now brace yourself, love, 'cause I'm 
ready to stop playing and start fucking." 

Having declared his intentions, Dingle set about carrying them out. Gripping 
the cheeks of Nan's ass, he commenced a rhythmic humping, pumping and 
jumping, his cock slithering slimily the full length in and out of Nan's 
cunt, which fought furiously to foil its flight time then gleefully gobbled 
the whole great, globular gland at its next appearance. 

Nan's hips and ass forced their way into the act with a slow, steady 
gyration that set Dingle all aquiver as her grasping cunt rolled this way 
and that, setting every nerve in his ruined old cock tingling. The two of 
them fucking in rhythm was more than any beer barrel was meant to bear, and 
it began a motion all its own, dancing first this way, then that, adding to 
the sensuous delights within. 

Dingle's hands dug convulsively into the cheeks of Nan's ass again and 
again, and in desperation she gripped the barrel's staves with her fingers 
and toes, not daring to touch the repulsive old creature, but needing 
something to hang onto as she fucked him and was fucked to the quick by him. 

Then one of his fingers probed between the cheeks of her ass and found the 
all too recently violated hole lying deep within the pale globes. His finger 
toyed at the edge of her asshole as his cock slid in and out, in and out of 
her cunt. Suddenly, without warning, he jammed his finger past the opening 
of her asshole and his cock rammed to the hilt so that his balls slapped the 
backs of her thighs all in one convulsive motion. 

"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh," Nan screamed, as she convulsed like a 
frog touched by the wires from a battery. Her sudden leap, together with the 
torque of Dingle's drive was too much for the barrel, which gave up trying 
and-tipped over backward. 

Suddenly Nan was flat on her back, with Dingle lying full on top of her, his 
finger jammed up her ass, his cock buried in her cunt and one of her breasts 
sucked halfway down his throat. His cock bucked as he rotated his hips, and 
her hips echoed the motion. Then the barrel joined in, rolling slowly first 
to port, then to starboard, accenting Dingle's every thrust and Nan's every 
parry. From slow gyrations, their tempo increased as the increased torque of 
the moving barrel drove Dingle's dangling dong deeper, ever deeper, into 
Nan's tortured, but desirous cunt. 

Dingle got a second finger into Nan's asshole alongside the first one and 
her gyration increased. Suddenly she was on top, as the barrel rolled clear 
over, and it was she who drove with her hips and her torn ass, forcing 
Dingle's dick deeper and deeper into her slurping, smacking cunt. 

Something was happening within Nan that was completely new to her. She'd had 
an orgasm a short time before under the educated lips and tongue of Mary, 
but this was something else again. Dingle's great cock was building a load 
of passion in her belly that fairly threatened to blast the top off her head 
when it finally came. And lord, how she wanted it to come. Digging her feet 
into the floor of the barrel, she bore down with all her might and weight, 
and Dingle responded by thrusting up at her, so that the top of the root of 
his cock slammed against her clitoris and it screamed for more and more and 
more. 

The barrel rolled over again, putting Dingle back into the driver's seat. 
That old sot knew his stuff, and drove with an authority unseen in the 
Western world since the heyday of the great, boozy lechers of the Roman 
empire. 

And yet again the barrel rolled, giving Nan command of the situation. But 
only for an instant, as she shoved her cunt around Dingle's cock. The barrel 
was now operating on its own initiative and it continued to roll up the 
alley toward the dead-end wall, giving Nan and Dingle a perfect ride, with 
one on top, fucking like mad, then the other on top doing the fucking. 
Fucking and groaning and building incredible backlogs of orgasmic passion, 
Dingle and Nan fucked up the alley in the slowly turning, tumbling barrel, 
with first one fucker and the other the fuckee, then with the tables turned. 

The barrel hit the back wall of the alley and started back down toward the 
street at a tangent, gaining speed as it went, due to the natural slope of 
the alley toward the street, so that Nan and Dingle had to fuck with 
increasing speed during their brief times on top, in order to get maximum 
benefit out of the barrel's help. 

Their speed and excitement only increased the barrel's speed, so that when 
it bounced off one wall of the alley and went spinning away in the other 
direction, Dingle's cock crashed into one wall of Nan's cunt and his teeth 
ripped at the nipple of her breast, giving them both sensations of sexual 
strangeness unknown before to man and only vaguely dreamed of by gibbons and 
such other free souls. 

Nan felt orgasm welling within her as the barrel slewed around again and 
shot across the alley. Her cunt hung onto Dingle's cock for dear life as 
they rolled and tumbled together, and her heels dug into his ancient ass, 
further locking their bodies. 

"Yaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhoooooooooo," Dingle yelled at the top of his lungs, as 
his huge cock pounded her cunt to tatters. "Ride 'em, cowboy. Here we go, 
little lady, here I come. Watch the top of your head." 

"Iiii'mmmmmmm cooooommiiinnnngg!" Nan shrieked, doing it. At that moment the 
barrel, slewing, struck a wall dead on, and the twisting, driving motion 
forced its lid off and its passengers out the top, to lie shuddering in 
orgasmic unconsciousness on the pavement in the warm California sunshine. 

Centuries later, Nan came to. Dingle's fingers had withdrawn from her 
asshole, his mouth had dropped her breast, and his cock, moments before a 
monstrous shaft, was slithering softly out of her cunt as it shrank. She 
became aware of the warm air wafting over her bare ass and breasts, then of 
the concrete pressing against her thigh. Then she got her first clear look 
at Peter Dingle, the grinning bundle of rags lying close beside her. She was 
horribly sick. Hauling her cunt away from his shriveling cock, she rolled 
over and vomited. 

As she staggered to her feet and groped for her purse just inside the 
barrel, she heard Peter Dingle cackling. "By God," he said, "that's one no 
goddamned tomcat can equal." 

Staggering blindly down the alley toward the street, Nan heard scraping 
sounds behind her. Peter Dingle had reerected his barrel and crawled back 
inside to await another gift from heaven or whatever else life and wine 
might bring him. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Nan realized she had to hurry. She had one more day to get into Mae's old 
mansion, find the information she wanted, and write her story. True, she 
could make a passable feature out of the information she already had and 
from the files at the Gazette, but that wasn't good enough... and as long as 
there was time to do better, she was going to try. 

There was something else to consider, too. Aaron Stemfelder wanted the story 
for his scandalmongering column. Nan was convinced that Mae's private life 
was like something out of a Greek orgy and she was sure an expose on the old 
lady would be gleefully accepted by sensation-loving newspaper readers... 
but it was just possible that Mae deserved more in the way of fair treatment 
from the press as well as from the world she had so richly endowed. 

Also, Aaron Stemfelder was right behind her. He had learned about everything 
except the old mansion. Nan knew he was still following her and she knew 
that somehow she must prevent him from getting the proof of Mae's sexual 
degeneracy. After all, the old lady had changed when she left New Toronto 
and she had apparently given away everything she owned in town to keep all 
the witnesses-especially Art Teffler-from talking. Although they had kept 
their silence while Mae Jetty was alive, now that she was dead, none of her 
former New Toronto playmates seemed to care whether or not her good 
reputation remained intact. 

Nan was sitting at her desk, staring at her telephone, knowing what she had 
to do and hating herself because she was almost looking forward to another 
tussle with Teffler. It seemed to her, now that she thought about it, she 
could put to harmful use the knowledge of his lewd and twisted way of life. 
The thought made her smile an evil smile... then she caught herself. I can't 
use his trick, she realized. Blackmail is the kind of thing Teffler himself 
would employ. If she used it too, she would become like him. Her conscience 
wouldn't allow it. She would have to go to him for the key, but she knew she 
wouldn't use blackmail to pry it out of him. 

We'll play it by ear, she thought, a newborn toughness expressing itself in 
her. She picked up the phone. 

Teffler was anxious to see her. He almost sounded friendly. 

"I'm a businessman," he repeated to her over the phone. "I know you want 
into the old house and I have a perfectly fair bargain for you." 

"W-what sort of bargain. I should think I'd paid enough." 

"Yeah. Well, you may be right. You paid a good fee. Very satisfactory. But 
you didn't hang around long enough to collect your end of it. Now the 
proposition is changed, baby," his voice fell back into its sneering tone, 
"and I got a friend who can work everything out for both of us... that is, 
if you really want the key." 

On her way over to Teffler's Nan's mind produced images of the orgy she'd 
been forced to take part in the day before. If Teffler had a friend, it was 
bound to be someone like that Steve who loved... what was it called... oh, 
yes, buggering. She didn't know if her rectum could stand another adventure 
like the last one. 

When the elevator opened, the outer room was empty but the door to Teffler's 
living room was ajar and she could hear men's voices. 

"Here she is now," she heard Teffler say, "You guys ready?" 

"Certainly, Arthur," said a mellifluous baritone. 

"Oh, Harvey. No. God, no!" said a younger voice, higher pitched, almost 
effeminate and very agitated. 

"Now, Billy," said the soothing mellow baritone, "nothing can be as horrible 
as you're making this seem. Just remember what I told you." 

Nan was now at the door. Hesitating only for a heartbeat, she entered. 

The three of them were standing by the doorway to the hall, across the room 
from Nan. She stopped when she saw them. Teffler wore only his jockey 
shorts. A big man, who was apparently Harvey, wore an expensive Oriental 
bathrobe. Little Billy was fully dressed in an oddly cut suit of robin's egg 
blue. He was obviously a homosexual, and equally obvious was his severe 
fright. He gulped when she entered, his eyes were wide and he seemed to 
twitch as if seeking escape, but was afraid to run. 

The penis in Teffler's shorts lurched when Nan entered the room. Now it was 
growing and would soon, she was sure, pop out of its cotton prison. 

Harvey noticed it too. "Arthur!" he scolded mildly. "Must you be so gross?" 

"If you'd had her like I had," replied Teffler, his prick still climbing, 
"yer cock'd leap, too." 

Harvey looked at Nan speculatively. "I believe you're right." 

Nan decided not to waste time on them. "Before you three try anything," she 
said to Teffler, "I'd like the key." 

"Ah, right to business," said Harvey. "I admire that." 

"Shuddup, you big faggot," said Teffler curtly. "You get the key," he told 
Nan, "after you pay for it and not until." His voice was practically a whine 
as though he was involved in something he didn't like, something that would 
not be to his own exclusive benefit. 

"Now, Arthur, you let me handle this," said Harvey. He turned to Nan. "Sit 
down, my dear, and let me explain." 

Nan, though she wasn't afraid either of Teffler or his friends, was 
weak-kneed. Fear, she now realized, came from the unknown. Teffler she knew, 
so she wasn't afraid of him... but these other two, though they weren't 
menacing in appearance, had something up their sleeve that Nan suspected 
wasn't going to be pleasant for her. 

Nan sat on a couch and primly pulled her hem to her knees. She had worn a 
longer skirt this time. Harvey and Teffler watched her action with vulturous 
interest, but poor Billy shrieked and started to run for the door. 

Teffler and Harvey grabbed him before he could get two steps. "Noo-o-o, 
Billy. You promised. Remember? It means so much to both of us." 

Harvey soothed the younger homosexual and moved him over to the chair across 
from Nan. The boy-he couldn't have been more than eighteen-began to weep 
despite a tremendous effort not to. 

Harvey stood next to him, a protective hand on Billy's shoulder. "You see, 
Miss, uh..." 

"Flanders," she said. 

"... Flanders, Billy is a bit of a problem to us and we thought, in exchange 
for the key you admire so much, that you might help us out." 

Nan couldn't answer. Teffler was moving around on the periphery of her 
vision and she couldn't concentrate on anything but the gigantic erection 
which had now burst out of his shorts. It jerked and throbbed as he edged 
closer to her. None of the men seemed to experience any embarrassment at 
this turn of events. Harvey was a little annoyed as he waved Teffler away. 
Finally Teffler left the room. 

"He is crude, isn't he?" commented Harvey. 

Nan relaxed as she saw Teffler leave. "What do you want me to do?" she 
asked, knowing full well what it was. 

"Not to bother with details," began Harvey, "I am, as Arthur has already 
pointed out, a homosexual. I take young boys as lovers and Billy here is my 
latest." 

Billy whimpered forlornly and Nan thought she might throw up as she saw the 
boy try to snuggle up to the older queer. 

"Unfortunately, there is a catch. Arthur and I have a club... an 
organization of pleasure seekers, if you will. To become a member, there is 
only one requirement... you must be bisexual." 

"You mean..." 

"One must be willing to... uh... unite with any other member of the club, no 
matter the sex of that member." 

"And... uh... Billy..." Nan didn't know how to phrase it. 

"William, the poor lad, has a terrible fear of women and, though I assure 
you he is an adept partner at any form of lovemaking, he is a virgin where 
women are concerned. We were hoping you'd cure him." 

"But, why? Why not just let him... do what he wants?" 

"Simple, my dear. He's my lover, and I don't want a lover who doesn't join 
me in all my activities." 

Nan couldn't believe her ears. Here was this raging fag blandly telling her 
the details of his sex life as if he were just passing the time of day with 
matter-of-fact chitchat. Not only was he baring himself in his casual way, 
he was asking her to join in his degrading activities. 

And there was Billy... Nan didn't know what to think about Billy-just the 
thought of undressing him filled her with loathing. Funny, she didn't 
imagine he would undress himself. He was too childlike, she guessed. 

Nan, however, had already steeled herself for whatever was to be asked of 
her in Teffler's apartment. She had to get that key. 

"All right," she said, "but can't we be alone?" 

Billy broke into sobs when she assented. "No," he pleaded, looking up at 
Harvey with tears filming his eyes. "Isn't there some other way?" 

"William, this fear of women has to be cleared up. It's weak," Harvey said, 
his voice assuming the hard tones of command. "Much as I admire your taste, 
it just isn't normal to be afraid of pussy, not even for... one of... us." 

"Oh, God!" wailed Billy. 

"None of that," said Harvey, like a stern housemother. "You've already 
promised that you'd try." 

"All right," Billy said weakly. "I'll try-It's just that I can't stand the 
thought of those greasy slits." 

That was one too many for Nan. She shouted at him, "Now you listen to me, 
you little... little flower! I don't know what you're used to, but women are 
no greasier than... than..." she didn't know what. 

Her sudden anger did him in. "Okay," he whined. "Okay, don't get mad. 
Please," he sniffled. 

"And wipe your nose," she demanded. "How do you expect me to get worked up 
over a sniveling brat?" 

"Gently," said Harvey, who now drew from within his ornate robe a long 
leather-wrapped handle from which hung a dozen or so tough thongs. "We must 
be gentle with those we love, mustn't we?" His voice changed from its former 
mellow tones to a cold and sinister whisper. 

Nan drew back as much from his voice as from the sight of the 
vicious-looking whip. Billy, too, had shuddered when Harvey brought out the 
instrument of perverted torture. 

"Y-you d-don't dare touch me with th-that... that thing." Nan said, trying 
not to scream. She almost wished Teffler would come back into the room in 
the desperate hope that not even he would approve of whips. 

"We only use this when necessary," Harvey said. "Some people need 
encouragement... and some rather enjoy a little touch of leather now and 
then. Isn't that so, William?" 

"N-no," said the boy. "I'll do anything. Put that thing away." 

"Stand up, both of you," commanded Harvey. Billy stood. He was about Nan's 
height, maybe an inch taller. "You both know where the bedroom is. Off you 
go." Billy still wiping tears from his face, shuffled into the hallway like 
an obedient pup. 

Nan stood facing up to Harvey, who must have been six-foot-three. "What kind 
of an animal are you?" she hissed at him. 

"Animal?" He feigned a delicate expression of shock. "I think monster is the 
word you wanted." He flicked the whip gently. "Move," he said almost 
jovially. 

Harvey followed her into the hallway where they found poor miserable Billy 
waiting by the bedroom door. He had apparently resigned himself to the 
coming ordeal. He wasn't sniffling anymore, nor was he slumped dejectedly as 
he had been when he walked out of the living room. Harvey folded his whip 
and returned it to where it hung inside his robe. He put a fatherly hand on 
each of their heads and solemnly pronounced: 

"Now, children, we enter into a new world, a world of light and joy, a world 
without fear." 

With that he opened the door and sent them in, like a kindly old priest 
urging the children of his parish out to hunt Easter eggs. 

"We'll give you just one half, hour to cure him, my dear. Then Arthur and I 
will join you to present your reward. Let me assure you that you will 
receive exactly what you have earned. Don't fail us." And Harvey shut the 
door behind them. 

Billy was scared shitless and he knew it. It wasn't so much that he was 
afraid of women, it was just that the one time he tried with a girl, he 
couldn't get hard. The girl had laughed at him. And that had hurt. Billy 
hated people who laughed at him; he couldn't function when they laughed at 
him. Now the whip: if Billy didn't make it with this girl he'd get the whip. 
He could cry for terror because he knew he just couldn't make it, even if he 
wanted to. 

Nan was behind him and when she tried to get around to face him he turned so 
as to keep his back to her. Then he heard her whisper, "Look, mister, we 
don't have much time. And I think that big ape with the whip means what he 
says. Honest, I don't like any of this. I don't like it any more than you 
do, but I don't want to get whipped." Billy couldn't think of an answer. 
Didn't she know there was nothing they could do to avoid the whip? Harvey 
and Art liked to whip people. They even liked to whip each other. He turned 
away again as he felt her trying to get in front of him. 

"I'm going to undress," she said. "Why don't you watch me? Maybe it'll help 
get you in the mood." 

Billy heard her move away from him. He could hear the rustling sounds of her 
taking her clothes off. 

"C'mon," she whispered from behind him. "At least look at me." 

Reluctantly he turned around. She was down to her slip and soon it fell to 
the floor and she turned to face him imploringly in her bra and bikini 
pants. 

Her breasts were large and full, straining in twin captivity. Her hips, her 
thighs, her arms... her whole body was rounded, soft and designed with 
exquisite curves. He quickly closed his mouth, for it had fallen open as he 
watched her. Her flesh was milky white and seemed to be swathed in a red 
aura the color of her hair. 

Her lovely body made a slight movement, as if on its own, a beckoning to his 
subverted manhood, and it amazed him to feel his prick twitch in 
recognition. She smiled and he couldn't help smiling back at her. 

"Is-is your... uh..." he stammered. 

"Say it," she urged. 

"I-is your pubic hair the s-same color..." he blushed. 

"Come and find out," she answered, almost coyly. 

Nan had immediately sensed his need for tenderness and mothering rather than 
the bump and grind approach. She would use him to that purpose and then get 
the hell out of here. She didn't really believe that Teffler or Harvey would 
use the whip on her against her will. 

Billy approached her hesitantly. His eyes were wide, like a child in a candy 
store, and he apparently didn't know which goodie to grab first. When he was 
close enough, she put her hands on his chest and slid them outward, pushing 
the coat off his thin shoulders. It fell to the floor on top of her dress. 
Slowly, she undid the scarf at his throat. It was a flimsy and very feminine 
thing which reminded her of what he was. Careful not to threaten him by 
moving her body too close, she unbuttoned his lace-front shirt to expose 
beneath it... oh, God, a white silk tee shirt. She didn't dare change the 
expression on her face or show any of the revulsion that was beginning to 
well up in her. 

He stood immobile as she undressed him. Nan couldn't tell if she was having 
any effect. She wanted to feel his crotch for the hardness that would answer 
that question, but she was afraid of startling him. It would have to wait 
until she got to his trousers. She noted, with some satisfaction, that his 
breathing was heavy; the panting coming from him and the reality that he was 
standing up were the only guarantees she had that he was actually alive. She 
pulled the silk shirt out of his pants top and lifted it. Finally, he had to 
move. He raised his arms to help her and when the shirt was on the floor his 
hands came down to rest on her waist, and she felt him gently kneading the 
firm young flesh. His hands were cold, but she restrained her urge to 
reprove him. If she was lucky, she'd have him heated up in a minute, hands, 
feet, kneecaps, and everything. 

Billy had enjoyed it so far, although afraid that at any minute she would 
break out laughing at him. The skin in his hands was warm and vibrant. He 
stopped kneading and moved his palms up her sides to the bra strap. He knew 
she was looking at his face, but he couldn't look back at her. He was 
studying the soft, warm crevice formed by her two white, firm breasts. He 
ran both hands along the straining strap to the hooks in the middle of her 
back. She waited. Suddenly, he realized he didn't know how to un-snap the 
thing. To gain time, he leaned his head over and rubbed his lips and nose 
into her sweet smelling cleavage. He heard her sigh and his half-hard penis 
began to thicken. A slight shudder went through her and his prick began to 
respond with a pounding pressure against his clothes. At last, his fingers 
found the combination and her bra practically jumped off her heaving chest. 
There they were, he thought. Two beautiful white tits with large, hard 
nipples so pink you'd think she was a virgin. 

Billy leaned over and kissed first one nipple, then the other. His tongue 
felt their hardness as his hands slid across her supple, warm flesh to grasp 
the firm young breasts and knead them slowly as he encompassed a nipple in 
his lips. He had never tried this before-he had been too afraid-but now, 
with his prick beginning to throb in his pants and the heat of the girl's 
body transmitting itself to him through his own hands and tongue and lips, 
he felt a renewal of manhood welling up in his guts. To hell with Harvey, he 
thought. And to hell with Arthur, too. To hell with their whips and their 
painted boyfriends... and to hell with their buggering orgies. 

He felt her hands groping at his crotch. He sucked harder at the nipple, 
pulling more and more of the resilient, spongy breast into his mouth. He 
felt her body stiffen with pleasure and he heard her whimper in pain when he 
nipped and nibbled at her erect tits. 

Now his robin's egg blue, skin-tight pants dropped. His lemon-colored silk 
shorts followed. The pants were so tight they didn't make it to the floor 
but stuck about thigh high, allowing the cool air of the bedroom to wash 
over his genitals. His prick, never before touched by a woman's hand and 
never before inspired by a female's presence, jumped up as her hand cupped 
under his scrotum and gently massaged the two rubbery oblong balls within. 
His insides tingled at her touch and he moaned softly when she grasped his 
hot shaft with her cool hand. 

Nan's pelvic muscles were writhing in passion by now. She felt them rippling 
inside her, making demands on her that they had no right to make. She had 
managed to veneer her revulsion for this little queer with a thin layer of 
false desire, but now real action was demanded by her agitated vagina. She 
clamped her fist around his throbbing prick and moved her belly against its 
glans, smearing the lubricant into her belly button. He moaned again, but 
she could tell that she was too hot for him to equal the level of her lust. 
He was unsure of himself. She could read that in the hesitant movement of 
his lips and tongue on her breasts... and in the fact that he hadn't yet 
reached down to remove her bright green bikini underpants. 

Billy felt her fist begin slowly to move up and down his prick, pulling back 
the loose outer skin, then bringing it forward, tenderly jacking him off. He 
picked his head up off her breasts and looked at her, afraid that she, too, 
would be laughing at him just as all women had always done. Her deep green 
eyes were aflame. Her beautifully formed lips hung laxly open. She was 
breathing deeply and heavily... God! She was hot. She was hot-for him! 

His hands dove down to her bikini pants and swished them to the floor. 
Crouched down, he saw the bright red hair of her crotch and the sight made a 
bomb of passion explode in his balls. He rammed his nose into the red hair 
and hungrily split open the lips of her cunt with his thrusting tongue. He 
realized joyfully that she had jumped when he put his tongue into her. Now 
he had to have her... for the first time in his life he was willing to 
commit rape if necessary to get his prick into a woman. He pulled his own 
clothes to the floor and stood up. 

"Let's do it," he almost shouted. 

It was none too soon for Nan. She had been ready the minute she had felt her 
bra fly from her chest. The juices in her cunt were like boiling oil, her 
genital muscles were clamping shut on thin air and complaining painfully in 
waves of hollow aching impulses racing throughout her body. 

She grabbed his prick again and, using it like a leash, pulled him to the 
bed. It was strangely shaped, longer than others she had seen, but thinner, 
somehow. She suppressed a giggle when it occurred to her that it was just 
the right length and circumference for buggering queers. He wasn't going to 
bugger her, however. Her pussy was stretching, yawning, flexing in its 
terrible emptiness. She had to have him now and she didn't care what he was. 

"She's got him," said Teffler in another room. He was working with a movie 
camera behind a double mirror unknown to either Nan or Billy. Harvey, 
watching the scene from behind Teffler, fingered his whip handle and 
balanced his mental reaction between disappointment and joy. It was 
disappointing that she had succeeded because now he wouldn't be able to use 
the whip on her... whipping women was the most satisfactory experience he 
knew. The sound of their screams gave him an erection every time... and when 
he saw them start to bleed from the welts he gave them he would cum. 

"Too bad," he said, as Billy's prick entered Nan's gleaming red slit-they 
could see everything perfectly-"I was really going to give it to that little 
slut. I wanted to see if her hair was really red." 

"You an' yer fuckin' whip," said Teffler. "Just lemme get them on film... 
then she'll do anything for us... she'll have to." 

Nan pulled Billy over her into fucking position. Her hips ground against the 
bed in a circular motion anticipating his entry. As he set himself on top of 
her, putting his weight on his knees and elbows, she reached down between 
her uplifted legs to grip his jerking, pulsating shaft and guide him in. She 
wedged his rubbery cock-head into her slippery pussy lips, parting the red 
cunt hair with her own fingers. Looking down between their bodies, she saw 
her uplifted cunt opening for him as his thin penis passed the lips and 
began sliding easily into her love cave. 

"I can't," she heard him whisper. "I just can't do it with a woman." 

"You can't stop now," she almost screamed. "You're harder than I've ever 
seen a man before. Put it in me... please. Don't tease." 

His eyes were tightly closed when she looked up at him. She studied his 
childlike face momentarily and realized he would never complete the sex act 
with her on his own volition despite the iron-hard prick she could feel like 
a hot metal bar between her ravenous cuntlips. 

"I'll help you," she whispered and, digging her heels into his bony 
buttocks, she impaled herself on him with one tremendous lunge. 

"Oooooohhhh!" she cried when his overlong prick drove itself up into a part 
of her never before entered. 

"Aaaaaaaagghh!" he cried when his prick hit bottom and then drove even 
further. 

She could feel control coming back to her almost as soon as his hot rod had 
driven its deep path within her. 

Her vaginal muscles grabbed at their attacker and held him, sucking like a 
mouth of frenzy. Nan's hips increased their grinding motion and Billy, his 
eyes still shut, began to groan as if in pain. 

"Work it," she ordered him. "In and out, in and out. Out to the head, and 
all the way in... oh, God, work it, baby." 

Slowly he pulled it out, bracing himself on his knees and setting up a new 
balance with his elbows. It withdrew from her until his purple-red glans 
touched her extended clitoris. She yelped at that contact, almost 
frightening him out of her all the way. 

"Drive home, baby. Fuck me... give me all you got." She squirmed and writhed 
beneath him, almost driven insane by his lack of action. 

"You dirty whore!" he screamed and then piledrived it to the hilt, withdrew 
and drove it in again, jerking spastic cries of delicious pain from her. 

"You whore! You slut! You greasy cunt!" he screamed as he rammed his prick 
in and out of her. "You dirty bitch!" 

He might as well have been whispering endearments to Nan for she was lost in 
the concentration of love. She maintained the vaginal pressure on him, 
trying with all her might to hold him inside her as he pulled his prick out, 
sucking his cock with her talented pussy... then releasing to receive him 
again with each mighty thrust and, once he was seated eight inches into her, 
grabbing in another death grip and sucking the juices out of his prick's 
slit into her insatiable womb. 

"My God, you're good," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You're a helluva 
man and didn't even know it. Keep it up. Fuck me. Keep fucking me, don't 
ever cum... Just fuck, fuck, fuck!" 

"Oh, Jesus, you're sweet," he said as he felt his revulsion for women 
melting within him. His balls were tightening in the wrinkled bag now 
pounding incessantly against the tight little pink "O" of her anus. "You're 
pulling the prick right off my body." 

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!" she answered. 

One thing Billy could never do was kiss a woman on the lips. Now he wanted 
to... it would be the next to last step in his walk to masculinity. He 
looked at her face beneath his. She was writhing under his repeated, thrusts 
and her face was a study in passion... deep green eyes staring holes through 
him, nostrils flared, mouth open and tongue darting out at him, trying to 
reach his mouth. 

He fucked her as deeply as he could, attempting with each desperate lunge to 
go as far as possible. Their crotches slammed together with a resounding 
thwack each time she rose to meet his digging prick. 

Billy was going to kiss those lustfully working lips, he was going to 
swallow that darting tongue... if only... if only he would cum. His balls 
tickled inside his scrotum... tickled and tingled, twitched and convulsed. 
He could feel the prostate gland, buried deep in his rectum, begin to glow 
in anticipation of what was about to happen. 

"I'm almost ready to make it." 

"Not yet," she pleaded. "Hold it just a little longer, baby." 

"I-I don't think I can." 

"Oh, please, darling. Puhleeeeze hold it a tiny second. Keep fucking it into 
me just a little longer." 

Nan had begun to feel the churning in her crotch, the tingling up and down 
her spine. Her cunt muscles were on their own now, grasped, sucking and 
releasing his diving, thrusting, burrowing prick... even her asshole, 
excited by the slapping scrotum, was contracting and expanding with quick 
repeated jolts of pleasure as his piledriving motion mounted to orgasm. 

"Now," she said. The ocean of lust within her had compressed itself and was 
ready to explode. It felt gigantic. It would spew like it never had. She 
would wash him with it... his prick, his balls, his thighs would soon be wet 
with her cum... the way it felt now, even his ankles would catch some of her 
tidal gushing. 

"Yes," he answered. "Yess, yesss, yy-yeeeeeesssss!" 

His scrotum contracted and his balls spurted, jerked and spurted again. 

"This is it," he screamed. "This is iiiiiiiiitt." 

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeee!" she shouted joyfully. "I'm cummming. 
Iiiiiiii'mmmmmmm cccccuuuummmmmmiiiinnnnngggg!" 

She felt his orgasm dance within her, meeting hers as they spewed together 
in perfect fucking harmony, perfect spastic, jerking, throbbing, gushing, 
spurting, shooting, exploding, crying, weeping mutual bursting of genitalia. 

"My God!" exclaimed Teffler from the next room. "Look at her flail her legs. 
Look at him drive it home. My God! They made it. Look at 'em drive their 
goddam bodies together!" 

He had been watching them as he ran the camera, his own prick standing out 
and prancing around before him. He was naked, having discarded his shorts at 
the insistence of his erection, and, without knowing it, he had cum, too, 
was still cumming, in fact. White globules of his cum spattered the floor at 
his feet and his still-hard prick shot more as he watched the pair on the 
bed. 

"I've got to have her again," he said, shutting off the camera. 

Too late. Harvey, too, had been watching. Now his robe was on the floor and 
a massive cock stood out before him as he gazed intently at the hairy globes 
of Teffler's ass. 

"Why take her when you've got me?" whispered Harvey, raising the 
many-thonged whip. 

Teffler yelped when the first of Harvey's swings slashed into his shoulder. 
He yelped again when the second bit into his side. The third raised welts in 
his ass and Teffler fell to his knees, whimpering in pain and defeat. He 
knew what was coming. 

"Hold still," commanded Harvey, "and raise your hind end. Hold still, damn 
you, or I'll flay the skin right off your useless body." 

Prick in one hand, whip in the other, Harvey kneeled and prepared to part 
the trembling cheeks of his victim's ass.... 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Nan lay back exhausted and Billy fell across her, his softening penis still 
embedded in her. Suffused in the pleasure they had given each other, they 
lay panting as their bodies began to relax. 

Then Teffler's scream pierced the bedroom's silence. Nan felt Billy's body 
stiffen, then his weight disappeared and she opened her eyes. He was 
excitedly scrabbling around for his clothes. 

"They're whipping each other," he told her in a whispered scream. "Let's get 
out of here or we're next." 

She was up in a trice, almost yelping in the fear of that awful-looking 
whip. 

"Just grab your clothes," he said. "We can lock the elevator and dress in 
there." 

They ran for the living room, the tortured screams of Art Teffler chasing 
them down the hall. 

Nan almost smiled. Finally, that mean-minded Teffler was getting what he 
deserved, she thought. Abruptly she stopped. "The key!" she shouted. "I've 
got to get the key." 

The screaming stopped. Oh, God, they've heard me, Nan realized with terror. 
She and Billy were in the outer room approaching the elevator door. 

Billy had stopped when she shouted. They stood there looking at each other, 
naked and scared out of their wits. 

Billy dropped his bundle of clothes and pointed to the door they had just 
come through. "Close it," he ordered. As she complied, he rushed to one of 
the room's heavy couches and pushed it across the carpetless tiles to block 
the door. 

"See that cabinet," he said. 

Frenziedly she looked to where he was pointing. There was noise of heavy 
footsteps running in another part of the house. A long, wide, shallow 
cabinet hung on the far wall. Its wooden doors were enameled decorously, but 
a crack down the middle and the tiny padlock told its use. 

"All his keys are in there," said Billy. "You've got to break the lock." 

Harvey and Teffler were now at the door, pounding to get in. Nan found a 
weighted metal ash tray and went to work on the tiny lock. It broke and fell 
away at the third blow. The doors swung wide, exposing at least fifty keys 
strung to tabs of cardboard with addresses written on them. The tabs hung 
from tiny hooks. 

"Lower right hand corner," shouted Billy. 

One of the tabs at the indicated position read "Mae." 

"I've got it," said Nan. "So it was right out here all the time. God! How I 
wish I'd known that." 

"Get our clothes into the elevator and hold the door for me," shouted Billy, 
now struggling mightily to keep the two torturers out of the anteroom. 

"Billy, you scrawny little fag sunavabitch!" 

It was Teffler. "I'll kill you when I get my hands on you." 

"Now see what you've done," wailed Harvey. "He's gone... gone with a dirty 
female bitch... and it's your fault... he's the only one I ever loved and 
you scared him away. Take that!" 

A swish and a smack from the whip and a hideous screech of pain from Teffler 
ended their attempts to get through the door. Billy almost laughed out loud 
as he shut the elevator behind them. 

"When Harvey starts with the whip, he hates to stop. They'll be busy for 
hours now. We're safe." 

"Funny," said Nan. "I can't hear them any more." 

"The whole place is soundproof." 

He stopped the car halfway down and turned to her. "Before we get dressed," 
he said, his old shy manner coming back. "I promised myself that you'd be 
the first girl I'd kiss. Do you mind?" 

Their naked bodies pressed together gently and they ended the evening's 
lovemaking with a long, busy kiss. 

Billy didn't have a car so Nan dropped him off. He kissed her lightly, 
before he left, and said good-bye. He was leaving town. He simply didn't 
have the courage to hang around New Toronto until Teffler and Harvey decided 
to get even with him for helping Nan. 

"Teffler never intended to give you the key," he said. "But don't worry 
about him. I've got enough on him to put him away for 500 years. He won't 
bother you anymore." 

He turned to go, then stopped and turned back slowly, drawing something from 
his coat pocket. "Do me a favor, will you?" 

"Of course. What?" 

"Get rid of these things for me?" He held out the silk underwear he had been 
wearing. 

Nan smiled. "Sure I will... and good luck." 

They had parked at an old-fashioned motel with individual units facing each 
other across a small court. She watched him as he strolled homeward between 
the bungalows. 

Friday was a busy day at the Gazette. Reporters had to wrap up their week's 
work with numerous telephone calls and short interviews in preparation for 
the big weekend paper. Rewrite duty was doubled on everyone and, generally 
the staff put out three times as much work on Friday as it did all the other 
days of the week. A great deal of copy had to be piled up because only 
skeleton crews worked Saturday and Sunday. 

Nan was busy writing all day, mostly boring stuff about service clubs and 
Boy Scouts, social gatherings and church events. There was a special hell 
for newsmen, Mr. Lopez had always said-it was a half world of dandy club 
news and dingy social happenings which have to be written up over and over 
again. If there was a better way to dull your mind, Nan couldn't imagine it. 

But, all day, through the back of Nan's mind ran images of the Jetty 
mansion. Her curiosity about the place and what she would find there 
practically drove her crazy as she hacked through the day's dull routine. 
Finally, late in the afternoon, Nan dropped everything else and wrote a 
really good feature on Mae's life and philanthropies. None of her suspicions 
about Mae's wild sex life were included in the story. It was written so that 
it could be added to, however, and Nan would find out tonight at the mansion 
what to add. 

The usual heavy rush-hour traffic hindered Nan that afternoon as she drove 
home. A couple of times she thought she caught a glimpse of Aaron 
Stemfelder's sports car with its egg yolk paint job and phony spoked hub 
caps. She couldn't be sure it was him, however. There were a lot of sports 
cars around-but she couldn't be too careful. Stemfelder was famous for his 
persistence on the trail of a salacious story. 

Just in case Stemfelder was still following her, she took a roundabout route 
to the Jetty mansion that night, finally arriving there about 8 o'clock. A 
huge circular drive cut into the darkened forest surrounding the old house. 
She followed it up to a wide, gracious wooden front porch, now unpainted for 
many years. She parked, turned off her lights, and waited. No light broke 
the darkness, no motor interrupted the silence. Apparently she was home 
free. 

The old porch creaked under her weight. Huge patches of bare wall and great 
chips of loose paint showed in the glare of her flashlight. If only this is 
the right key, she thought, I've got it made. She held her breath as she 
slid the key into the ancient doorlock, then sighed in relief as the key 
turned and the door opened inward on well-oiled hinges. 

Inside was darkness. She shined her light in and exposed covered furniture 
making odd-shaped lumps around the living room. Dust was everywhere, 
especially in the folds and valleys of the canvas dropcloths protecting the 
furniture. It was piled up inches deep in some places. And yet, the place 
didn't have the musty unlived-in odor to it Nan had expected. And the door 
had been well oiled! Someone had been using the place all along. Teffler, 
she'd bet... but, what for? 

Nan would worry about that later. For now she had to find evidence. But, 
where? Mary Lipsher had said something about an upper room... pictures, 
movies, and notebooks in an upper room. She cast her light about for a 
staircase and walked through the living room. A huge formal dining room was 
next, separated from the living room by a wide portal. Many doors led off 
the spacious chamber... apparently it was the central room of the house. She 
tried the doors until she found one that gave onto a small hallway ending in 
stairs. 

"This is it," she whispered to herself. 

The stairway was narrow and twisting. It led all the way up to the third 
floor of the house without any intermediate lands. Right to the points, she 
thought. 

The noise of a passing car made her pause. It went by and she continued her 
careful tread up the squeaking steps. At the top there was a small landing 
and a single door. She ran her light over it. The knob was shiny with use. 
She grabbed it and opened the door. Stepping in, she found a light switch at 
her left and tried it. It worked. So the place is in constant use, she 
thought. 

The room was bigger than she had suspected it would be. The furnishings of 
the room answered all her questions about the house's constant use. A huge 
tousled bed rested squarely in the center of the floor. Ranged around it 
were photographer's lamps and several cameras on tripods, one of them a 
moving picture camera. So this is how Teffler makes his money-dirty 
pictures. She was almost amused. 

She looked around the rest of the room and noticed the walls were nothing 
but bookcases, occasionally interrupted by locked cabinets and drawers. The 
books took her interest and she gazed at them inquiringly until she 
recognized them... they were not books, they were photo albums... hundreds 
upon hundreds of photo albums. 

A bookcase was at her right hand. She took out an album and it fell open in 
her hand. The picture that leaped up at her was a young girl, stark naked 
and bending over to touch her toes so that a gigantic dog could mount her. 
The camera had been situated so that Nan could see the glistening animal 
prong half buried in the hair-covered pussy of his human partner. The girl 
had her head turned to face the camera and she was smiling vacuously. That 
album contained nothing but pictures of girls and large dogs. 

Each of the other albums followed a grisly theme of its own. One whole shelf 
was dedicated to one woman taking care of two men: she could swear one of 
the men was a younger Paul Hanley and she strongly suspected the woman was 
Mae Gail Jetty. But this wasn't proof. The pictures were so old Hanley would 
have no trouble denying he was a subject. 

There was no writing in any of the albums, nor were any of them dated. They 
could be anywhere from ten to thirty years old and, Nan was willing to bet, 
a lot of respectable citizens of New Toronto had posed for some of these 
atrocities in their younger days. Maybe Teffler was dealing in blackmail... 
no, Nan decided against that: there were too many things for which he could 
be blackmailed in return. There was no profit in it and, as Teffler liked to 
point out, he was a businessman, dedicated to the making of profit. 

Obviously, the albums were all the same. There was no sense in going through 
them until these locked cabinets and drawers had been investigated. 

One of the small padlocks had a key in it and on that key was a ring with a 
dozen or so other little keys. A gold mine! she decided, and opened the 
cabinet. "Oh!" she stood back in shock. There was nothing in the cabinet 
except an ornate picture frame containing a full color picture, about half 
life-size, of Art Teffler at about the age of nine or ten standing at 
attention with half of his proud little erection in the mouth of a young 
woman who could be none other than Mae Gail Jetty. She had been a beautiful, 
full-bodied woman... She was facing the camera, Teffler's little penis in 
her mouth almost sideways so Mae could lift up her full, ripe young breasts 
to the lens' rapt gaze. She was sitting with her legs spread to allow a 
gleaming slit to wink out from its silken forest. 

Nan couldn't take her eyes off the picture... the pink-fleshed woman, 
magnificently rounded and mature, contrasted with the skinny little boy with 
his hairless, tightly wrinkled scrotum, his sunken belly, his bony ribs and 
shoulders and the impish leer planted on his face. It was horrible. Nan shut 
the cabinet and locked it quickly. 

She realized she was out of breath. She had been panting. Her breasts had 
grown hard as she studied that sensuous woman's mouth encompassing that 
absurdly tiny penis. She felt a tingling between her thighs and cursed it 
for being there without her willing it. Her week with this crowd had made 
her as dirty-minded and lascivious as they were. Imagine that awful woman 
introducing such a young boy to that kind of degrading activity. It was 
inhuman. It was... 

A creaking noise interrupted her train of thought. Someone was on the 
stairs. 

Nan was frantic. Conflicting emotions were raging in her. Passion flowed in 
waves made greater by lustful desire, only to batter themselves painfully 
against rocks of disgust. No one must find her like this. Her breasts were 
throbbing as she sat on the bed to catch her breath. Her vaginal muscles 
flexed with the memory of the past few days. She couldn't seem to calm 
herself. 

Then the light went out. 

Her flashlight! Where the hell had she put her flashlight? She scrambled 
around on the bed and the floor beneath it before she remembered she had put 
her flashlight on the bookcase by the door. 

"Looking for this?" an unfamiliar man's voice said. Her flashlight flicked 
on and shone in her eyes. 

"D-don't," she said. "It hurts my eyes." 

The man chuckled and the room lights came on. She looked up and Aaron 
Stemfelder dropped his hand from the wall switch, put his bony fists on his 
hips and stared at her. 

"I've often heard about this room," he said. "It more than lives up to its 
advance billing." 

"What d-do you want?" 

"That depends." 

Nan's insides were making lustful twitches. She could hardly keep herself 
from ripping open the cabinet to show Stemfelder what the grinning little 
boy was doing with his penis. That would get Stemfelder's mind going in the 
right direction. Nan's body had already begun to take her over. She couldn't 
help smiling sensuously when she asked, "Depends on what?" 

Stemfelder looked at her anew. From an opposition reporter out of whom he 
had to squeeze a story, she now became a sexy young girl who fairly squirmed 
with lecherous anticipation. The dog album had fallen open on the floor and 
soon Stemfelder's glance fell on it. 

"Ah," he said. "All these albums..." he swept an arm to indicate the room. 

"Y-yes. All of them." Nan was torn between the two desires of escape and 
lust. All he had to do was say a word... 

I've never seen a woman so hot with her clothes on, thought Stemfelder. 
Looks to me like the right approach to her will open more than her notebook. 

He walked over and unlocked the cabinet. "What had you so entranced?" he 
asked. He opened the doors. 

"My God!" he said appreciatively. "We've got quite a story if those two are 
who I think they are. 

"I've got a story, you mean. I found this place." 

"Then what do I have?" 

"How about me?" 

The tone of her voice told him she wasn't kidding. Kidding, hell, she was 
panting. The pictures in this room really got to her. He wondered how long 
she had been browsing through Art Teffler's private erotica. 

"You're not bad," he commented with overdone casualness. Trying to appear 
uninterested, he stepped over to her and began to unbutton her blouse. The 
sight of her pink rounded flesh reacted in his crotch. He felt it hardening 
but retained the slow, idle pace of his hands as they moved down her blouse. 

He was standing only inches from her now and she could see, or did she 
sense, the movement in his pants. She laid her open hand against his crotch 
to feel his rod expanding and throbbing. He twitched involuntarily at her 
touch. 

"There's a dance going on in there," she giggled, "and I think I know the 
music." 

"I'm willing to bet you wrote the score." He pulled her blouse open, 
exposing a white bra bulging with pink flesh. He cupped his hands over them 
and kneaded gently. 

"Mmmmmmm," she sighed. "Nice, aren't they?" 

Stemfelder's head began to boil with hot confusion. If this little bitch 
thinks she's going to screw me out of a story, he told himself, she's wrong. 
I'll fuck her all night and still get the goods on old Mae Jetty. 

Nan continued to rub the lengthening tube in his trousers, wondering how big 
it would get before it stopped growing. Suddenly she had to see it. 

"Take off your clothes," she demanded. 

"That's usually the man's line," he rejoined. 

She jumped away from him. "Take 'em off," she insisted. "I want to watch." 

They looked at each other a minute, measuring the heat in each other's eyes. 
Then he smiled almost ruefully. She was beautiful. He was going to have her 
now no matter what it cost him. 

"I'll take off anything you will," he said, taking up the childish dare of 
her tone. 

She wiggled out of her blouse while this avid eyes devoured every movement. 
He dropped his coat and removed his tie. 

"We're even," he chided her. 

"Now you go first," she pouted playfully. 

Quickly, he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. 

"You're skinny," she said, looking at the spare flesh of his chest stretched 
tightly over his rib cage. 

"You're not," he replied. "Let's have the bra." 

She reached back, unsnapped it and handed it to him. He was bug-eyed when he 
saw her large, full tits bouncing before him, their dark pink nipples 
obviously hard as diamonds. 

She kicked off her shoes and stood up on the bed. He bent to remove his 
shoes and socks while she reached under her skirt and rolled down her 
pantyhose, slowly, luxuriously. He watched hungrily as she unzipped her 
skirt and dropped it down her perfect legs. Tremblingly he reached for his 
belt buckle, his wide eyes staring at the blue bikini pants that were now 
the only thing between the best part of each of them. 

"Let me," she said in a heated whisper. She fell to her knees, causing the 
mattress to shake, and reached for the front of his trousers. Stemfelder 
placed a palm on either side of her head and held his breath while her 
fingers worked clumsily at his belt and zipper. In a second cool air washed 
his ass and a warm hand cupped under his balls. He felt his wildly pulsating 
prick jump free and slap her wetly on the face when his shorts fell. 

Remembering Teffler, she jumped away from him and, standing on her knees, 
viewed his spare frame, giving special attention to the twitching, jerking, 
blood-filled purple head of his passion-flamed prick. The slit in its end 
glistened with lubricant, its shaft was entwined under its outer skin with 
thick ridges and bulging blue veins. 

"In me," she panted. "Get it in me." 

She pulled down her bikini pants with an urgency she had never felt before. 
He leaped onto the bed before she could lie down and, grabbing her hips in 
surprisingly strong hands and knees. 

"Didn't you see the dog album?" he grunted. "That's how I like it-backward." 

"But..." 

"None of that, Red. No complaints." He pushed her face into a pillow and 
shut her up, then with both hands he massaged her hind cheeks, rubbing 
slowly up and down the milk-white orbs, spreading them to see the rubbery 
ring of her asshole contract, closing them tightly to squeeze the juice from 
her already flowing cunt. The bright red hairs parted to show pink lips, 
opening and closing as he massaged the cheeks of her ass around and around. 

"I've been wondering all week if you were a real redhead," he sneered. 
"Until now, you could've fooled me." 

"Put it in me," she hissed. "And don't get the wrong hole." 

"Dirty-mouthed little bitch, aren't you?" 

"Hurry, please." 

Have I ever got you good now, you little bitch, Stemfelder was thinking. 
First I muscle into your cunt, then I muscle in on your story... the wire 
services will pay through the ass for some dirt on Mae Gail Jetty. And the 
magazines... with all the pictures in this place... The blackmail alone 
could make ten Stemfelders rich. 

He placed the very tip of his glans against her hot, wet pussy lips, slid it 
up and down, delighting to feel her whole body shudder as he teased her. Up 
and down, he slid the head of his prick, slipping it deeper into the pink 
folds of flesh only a silly millimeter at a time. He could see her tortured 
cuntlips opening to gulp him down but one of his hands held her by the 
buttocks helping him remain master of the situation. A little deeper and he 
could feel the cunt walls open for him and then clamp down. 

"Great sucking demons!" he exclaimed. "There's enough action in there to 
start an earthquake." 

Nan was moaning and mewling now in tantalized anticipation. Why didn't he 
jam it in and get started? Fun and game time is over... it's time to got to 
work. She tried to push herself back on him, but his big bony hand held her 
by the ass and wouldn't let her move. She hated this position. She couldn't 
see what was going on. She adjusted her head to look back under her own 
body. Her breasts, hard as they were, hung down so that her nipples were a 
good five inches from her chest, her belly was pumping in and out with the 
passion of waiting for him to act, and she could see his balls with their 
black hair covering hanging beneath her red pussymat. 

She spread her smooth white legs a bit more to get a better view of his 
sinewy, hairy ones and her movement caused his penis to fall out of her. She 
saw it only for an instant as it swooped down, long and thick, throbbing 
with lust, then it jumped back up to duty. 

"Uuummmmmmmmpppppphhhhh!" she said as he shoved it in about a quarter of the 
way. "Oooooooohhhhhh!" she moaned approvingly as he pushed another few 
inches, forcing her tight cuntwalls apart deliciously. "Aaagghhh!" she 
screamed when he came up on his toes and rammed it all the way home, 
sloughing its way through fold after fleshy fold until it came crashing to 
base like a flailing jet plane, at a point so far into her it felt like the 
pit of her stomach. 

"How's that?" he asked. He had intended to push her off balance but she had 
fooled him. She was firmly planted on knees and elbows, her beautiful 
buttocks rubbing back and forth on his bristly belly, her cheek clenching 
and unclenching to heighten the pleasure of his entry and pull him even more 
deeply into her wriggling womb. 

He paused again and began to flex his big prick where it sat. The huge spear 
on which she was impaled now began to expand and diminish rhythmically and 
she uttered a soft "Ooomph!" with each quick swelling. 

Now he pulled it out maliciously slow, delighting to hear her long, 
drawn-out "Oooooo!" as he did. In again, he pushed it with sadistic 
deliberation and heard her utter, "Aaaaaaa!"' 

But Aaron Stemfelder's groin was about to explode. A universe of fire was 
building up in his balls and he could resist it no longer. Gripping her hips 
with his powerful hands he plunged home again, quickly withdrew all the way 
to the glans and drove into her again. He pulled his knees up between her 
plump thighs for better traction and continued his fast-paced piledriving 
while Nan cried out in joy and rotated her ass to help his lunging cock find 
more and more area inside her to agitate with its unending motion. 

The tingling that had started between her thighs when she first saw the 
picture in the cabinet had developed into a swishing feeling, then a gurgle, 
then a rumble, until now her insides were roaring like a thunderous sky. Her 
spine was enveloped in an electrical storm that sent sparks out even to her 
fingertips and toes. She could even feel her hair standing on end. 

She heard herself grunting like an animal and, as if some far off part of 
her mind were coolly watching the scene, she was mildly disturbed that a 
nice girl like her had gotten talked into a position like this. But that was 
only a small part of her being; the rest of her was groveling in hedonistic 
filth and loving it. Dog style, eating it, standing up, balancing on the 
bridge of her nose, or fucking on the dead run... nothing was too horrible 
for her to try now. She loved it and couldn't help herself even if she 
wanted to. Even the muscle control she had so recently gained in her womb 
was gone and her vagina grabbed each new attack with a bellow of pure 
pig-in-shit joy as it sucked dry the stem of Stemfelder, trying with all its 
might to pull the balls right out of him. Nan experienced a new release deep 
within her as all restraint, all self-control, all self-denial, shame, 
guilt, confusion, modesty-everything went sliding slimily right down the 
Fallopian tubes to be expended as extra energy in the only thing that 
mattered: a grunting, sweating, squirming, squealing, digging, scratching, 
roistering, cum-ming, squirting, twitching session of vaulting the crossbar 
on the old skin pie. 

Both of them were grunting now and Stemfelder's big scrotum swung in a giant 
arc as she watched it from between her own tits. Suddenly his balls 
tightened up. 

"This is it!" he yelled in absolute abandon. 

All her sensations converged on her cunt as he spoke and she knew it was 
time... her explosion was about to take place and she doubted that a thing 
in the room would be dry after she was through spewing. 

"Iiiiii'mmmmm hhhhoooooommmmmmmee!" shouted Stemfelder. 

"Oooooohhhhhh, God!" answered Nan, though her voice was muffled by the 
pillow into which she had buried her face. 

"Aaahhh! Iii'mm CCUUMMMIINNGG!" she announced into the uncaring feather 
recesses of the somewhat stained pillow. 

A blinding flash interrupted them even before they could come out of 
position. Another one filled the room as they tried to unentwine their 
bodies and catch their breaths. Then another. 

Nan was so choked with passion she couldn't talk but she heard Stemfelder 
recover himself enough to angrily demand, "Who the hell are you?" 

Another blinding flashbulb answered him. 

"God damn you! Cut it out!" shouted Stemfelder, trying to scrape up his 
clothes. 

Nan didn't care what was happening. She was still gushing and still had her 
white-gloved ass in the air, grinding it around and around in sexual passion 
as if Stemfelder's big dick were still in her. 

Finally through cumming, she collapsed and, like the creature she had now 
become, began to wonder where her next piece was coming from. 

"Get dressed, Stemfelder, and get out of here," a voice said. 

"All right, all right," said Stemfelder. "Just give me a minute." 

Nan's sexual haze cleared now and, turning on her back, leaning on her 
elbows, her legs still pleasure-splayed, she looked at the doorway and saw 
Billy. He held a camera in one hand and a small pistol in the other. 

"Billy!" she said, "W-what are you doing?" 

"Helping you get your story," said Billy. "This bastard would have screwed 
you and still stolen the story from you." 

Stemfelder said nothing. He just kept pulling on his clothes, obviously in 
dire fear of the gun in Billy's hand. 

"Isn't that the truth, Aaron!" Billy asked, leveling the gun at Stemfelder's 
belly. 

"P-put the g-gun away and we'll t-talk it over, kid," stuttered Stemfelder. 

Nan slowly became aware that she was not only naked but lying on a bed 
between two men, her body spread out as if on display. She pulled a blanket 
up over her. 

Billy moved out of the doorway to stay out of Stemfelder's reach as the 
bigger man left the room. 

"I'll be listening for your car," Billy told him, "so don't try anything." 

"Fuck you," was Stemfelder's parting shot. 

They waited until, off in the distance, they heard a car start up and drive 
away. 

"That takes care of him," said Billy, "And you don't have to worry about 
Teffler and Harvey. Neither one of them could stand any publicity about 
their private lives." 

"Thanks you, Billy, but I just don't understand." 

"Read this," he said and handed her an envelope from his coat pocket. 

It was a letter from a Korean orphanage to Mae Gail Jetty, dated two years 
ago, which read: 

"Dear Mrs. Jetty, 

"The children have asked me to write their tanks for the presents you 
brought on your last visit. The warm clothes have been very useful during 
the terrible winter months. Also, as you advised, we have enlarged the 
dispensary and, with the money you donated, have hired a full-time doctor." 

The letter went on for several pages describing the operation of the 
orphanage with which Mrs. Jetty must have been intimately involved. 

Nan looked up at Billy. "I don't get it." 

"I've got Teffler's car outside," he said. "There are boxes and boxes of 
letters like this from all over the world. I was afraid when you saw this 
room, you might write an Aaron Stemfelder type expose on Mrs. Jetty." 

"I have to admit, I was tempted to expose her when I saw the picture of her 
and Art Teffler." 

"That's just what I was afraid of. But now..." 

"Now I can use the letters in the story and no one has to know about all 
this," she said. She threw off the covers and reached for her clothes. He 
watched her with unabashed admiration, his shyness with women was quickly 
disappearing. 

Then she remembered what he had said last night. "I thought you were leaving 
town," she said with a knowing smile as he watched her dress. "Why hang 
around here just to help me?" 

"You helped me," he said simply. 

"Well, now you can help me. We've got to organize the letters tonight so I 
can finish the Jetty story..." she paused limply, thinking of the long night 
ahead of them... "and you're going to have to do most of the work. I've had 
a helluva tough week." 

"That's all right with me," said Billy. "But first..." 

Billy had watched Nan as she threw off the covers, exposing her rosy 
nakedness, her full, bobbing breasts, her rounded buttocks, the double 
crease at her groin pointed at the bright red hair between her legs... those 
beautiful legs that he'd just last night been tightly wrapped around him, 
squeezing him into her hungry, sucking cunt. 

Nan had leaned over to pick her clothes up off the floor by the bed. 
Suddenly Billy was directly in front of her, standing on her panties just as 
she was about to grab them. She stared at his black shoes and the pantlegs 
of the Levi's he had worn that night. Before she could look up or say 
anything the Levi's fell to the floor, followed closely by a new pair of 
men's boxer shorts. 

"It's time for my second lesson," he said, a strange sadistic tone taking 
over his voice. 

She looked up and found herself staring into the muzzle of the tiny, 
nickel-plated pistol as well as into the gaping slit of his erect and 
dancing prick. Its head was deep purple and, as she watched it, a bead of 
filmy moisture formed in its one baleful eye. Billy's face wore an 
expression that wanted to be threatening, but only struck her as funny... he 
seemed desperately frightened. 

Her first urge was to giggle. She suppressed it, probably saving her life, 
and asked him, "Which one of those are you going to use?" 

"Which one do you think?" 

Instead of answering, she leaned toward his passionately leaping penis and 
licked off the newly formed bead of lubricant, savoring its taste of salted 
musk. 

"Two-gun Billy," she smiled. Dropping to her knees, she cupped one hand 
under his satiny scrotum and with the other grasped his lengthening prick at 
its hairy base. Making an oval of her mouth she slid her head over the 
fleshy impalement and sucked gently, swabbing the rubbery glans with a busy 
tongue. Sucking hard, she tightened the grip of her lips and slowly pulled 
her head back until the cock ejected with a loud, wet pop. 

Billy almost leaped in shock and pleasure. He had felt the vacuum pressure 
she had brought to bear... he had felt it deep within him, so deep that his 
balls had twitched and his bowels felt a tugging sensation. "Oooooohhhh!" he 
moaned. "How the hell do you do that?" 

"Natural talent," she explained, licking her lips. "Put your other gun away 
and let's lay down," she said. "The bed is quite comfortable. It's quality 
tested, in fact." 

The sight of his dancing prick had turned things on inside her. She could 
feel a comforting warmth wash through her, as if the mere sight of a penis 
and a set of balls were enough to make her feel right at home in any 
situation, as if the presence of male genitalia provided her with a kind of 
emotional scepter, the privilege of command, complete control. 

Ever since that first day at Hanley's-had it only been Monday, it seemed 
years ago-she realized that she loved sex even as she hated being forced to 
perform. But, now, she was beginning to understand that sex was her natural 
environment, that nudity was her natural costume, that flesh was her world 
and she was a queen empowered to hold court while all her blood-filled 
guards stood at strict attention. 

She felt the moisture forming on the walls of her cunt as she lay back and 
spread her legs, exposing her ruby-lipped pussy to the skinny, bug-eyed boy 
beside her. He fairly ripped his coat and shirt away and leaped at it, 
tongue first. 

She cooed as his oral member slithered into her cunt. Her clitoris emerged, 
pink and ready and he laved it like a cat voraciously licking at a spilled 
drop of cream. As if starving, he lapped, sucked, and nibbled until she 
thought she'd scream in lust-filled, pagan abandon. 

"I-I had the idea you'd n-never done this before," she gasped, full of 
wonder at his expertise. 

He nipped her bud again, then slurped his tongue deeply into her cunt before 
he looked up, grinned, and said, "Natural talent." 

Then he dove back to work again. The tip of his tongue parted the red pussy 
hair, darting up and down and around the cuntlips, then slipping between the 
lips, exposing pink folds of flesh. The sensation of his tongue and of his 
hot breath on her vulval lips sent a crawling delight throughout her body. 
Her flesh rippled. He ran his long, pointed tongue up one lip from just 
inside it all the way to the top, then down just inside the other lip, 
sending a tingling through her when his tongue reached the rear of that 
delicious opening. 

Billy wanted into her. He wanted his tongue, lips, nose, his whole face to 
dive right into her gaping cunt. Using his thumbs, he opened the lips wider, 
running his tongue deeper into the pink velvety, flowing cunt. Her juices 
oozed onto his oral member from every direction, their flavor and odor 
shooting flames of passion through him. His balls seemed to itch from 
inside, his lengthy cock pulsed and throbbed as it hung from his crotch in 
this hand-and-knees position. 

He didn't know he would like eating it this much. He had, in fact, been 
almost certain it would disgust him to do what he was doing now. He had been 
fooling himself all these months;-he hadn't been afraid of women at all, or 
disgusted by his own weakness, hating his own failure to take part in normal 
sex. 

Now he laved at her cunt, driving his tongue deeper and deeper as Nan moaned 
from somewhere above him. The only trouble was he couldn't get his tongue in 
deep enough. His hands were clutching her beautiful, round buttocks. He 
moved them up her thighs, pushing her legs up and back until Nan took hold 
of them herself and pulled her knees to her own body, pressing her breasts 
flat, presenting him with a wide-open, pulsing, pink pussy. She worked her 
muscles and he felt their effect as he plunged his tongue deeply into her 
vagina, the lips of his mouth pressed against the hair-covered lips of her 
cunt. He sucked at it as hard as he could and her body quivered with happy 
spasms of sexual recognition. 

Then-my God!-her cunt, from deep within its dark, comforting recesses, 
sucked him back, actually pulling at his slithering tongue, trying to bring 
him down to the ultimate ocean that lay dark and untended down, down into 
the cavern of her being. He would drown in those warm, slimy waters, and 
gladly. 

Nan wasn't even aware that her cuntal walls were closing on him, she wasn't 
aware that her love muscles, wherever they were in her pelvis, were grabbing 
him and sucking at him. The sensation she was feeling was a cumulative 
one... coming possibly from tonight with Aaron Stemfelder, or from all this 
week, starting with Hanley and the detestable Art Teffler. She didn't know 
what it came from or how or why-and she didn't care. What she felt was the 
total effect of all the relevant muscles working at once, all the relevant 
juices flowing at the same time, all heading in the same direction. She felt 
not one sensation but hundreds, and her present partner was only one small 
twig in a forest of life sprouting up around her since Monday. 

Billy's prick throbbed screamingly. It wanted the action it was built for; 
it cried out for proper employment. She sighed as his tongue left her hot, 
grasping pussy. A terrible vacancy was left by his sudden defection from 
duty, but soon it was replaced, as Billy eased her legs down and then around 
his waist, by the hard, rubbery, blood-filled, purple glans. 

Look, man, no hands, he thought, as he pushed his hips slowly forward and 
the slippery prick-head edged wetly between the widely palpitating lips of 
her cunt. Gratefully, it slid in, almost speaking its relief through its one 
slit of a mouth. 

A shudder of wanton delight surged through Nan's raw, nerve-tingling body as 
Billy's long-deprived manroot reached its first inch of penetration. Her 
breasts heaved and the nipples jiggled against the pressure of his boylike 
body as the bed shook under his efforts to assume a favorable fucking 
position. 

Then he drove it home and Nan yelped to feel his lengthy gristle tear into 
her, diving in one long descent until their pelvises slapped together 
noisily. He withdrew all the way to the tip of his vein-wound piledriver, 
then drove in again. She squirmed up to meet him, sheathing him like a 
greased glove. Their bodies slapped together again and again and again... 
she would never get enough of it. The feel of it, the smell of it, the sound 
of it filled her with ecstasy. 

"Ooooooh yes, yes... fuck me this way," she heard herself moan. "Oh, shit, 
yes! Fuck it into me this way!" she mewled, writhing her body lustfully as 
he continued his frenzied motion in and out and in again. She felt that the 
whole world was before her and that she was young enough to take advantage 
of it. Cocks were everywhere. Large ones... small ones, fat and thin, the 
world was a paradise of cocks... and the longest one of them all was sunk 
into her hungry cunt... fucking into her, growing with each thrust like an 
immense, oversized mile-long hot dog... and now his finger entered, backed 
out, and entered again into her tightly puckered anus, lambasting her 
clenching rectum like another throbbing prick... and she was now a 
prisoner... a helpless, defenseless slave who could do nothing against the 
delicious assault of her pussy and asshole... strapped between their 
battering lust like an ensnared animal. 

She sensed that he was slowing down, tiring perhaps, trying to catch his 
breath. 

"Oh God! Don't stop," she cried piteously. "Oh, fuck! Don't ever stop!" 

He labored above her, moving suddenly into longer, smoother strokes that 
drew his cock nearly out of her clasping vagina on the backstroke, then 
plunging forward into her uplifted buttocks again until she felt the harsh 
slap of his balls against the exposed crevice of her anus. He thrust harder 
and she saw the pleasure his boyish face exhibited as he forced screams and 
gurgling moans from her. 

"Ooooohh!" she cried, this time from the scraping of his finger as it 
plunged and swirled more deeply into her asshole. 

He seemed to be aware of his power over her now. He worked his finger around 
inside, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground into 
her. She felt a second finger making its way into her tortured bottom, and 
the deep guttural noises coming from her chest eased into whimpers of pain, 
slowly subsiding to give way to greater moans of pleasure as her anus slowly 
became accustomed to his digital invasion. 

He smiled a cocky grin of triumph into her face and dropped his lips to 
hers, shoving his tongue deep into her sucking mouth as she began to skewer 
her rectum back onto his fingers shamelessly, and he probed them 
methodically around the warm spongy depth, sending new electric sensations 
through her. She was marvelously impaled between his stone-hard throbbing 
cock deep within her vibrant cunt and his fingers shoved tightly in her 
asshole. The thought raised further moaning and mewling from her chest and 
she began twisting and squealing joyfully under this double ravishment of 
her naked, widespread loins. 

Then, he brought his hand around to where his cock was sliding smoothly in 
and out of her clasping pussy, and she felt him begin to fondle the soft 
hair-lined lips milking at his rampaging cock, and he continued to play 
there until softer groans of unrestrained pleasure formed in her throat and 
leaped appreciatively into his ears. Her widening vagina seemed to gape in 
greedy desire, swallowing the whole of his cock as it plunged again and 
again to her very core. 

Suddenly he quickened his thrust, hot and pulsating and deep, and the 
tormenting agony of pleasure caused her to thrash beneath him. She felt him 
rip his fingers from her asshole with a wet hissing sound, their loss 
suddenly disconcerting her, but then he was pressing his hands under her 
knees, lifting to no avail as she clamped her legs around him even tighter, 
locking her ankles together. 

"Oh, oh, ooohhh," she commenced to chant beneath him, her face feeling as if 
it were contorted in an unrecognizable mask of wild, insane passion. 

Again he quickened his stroke, grunting and groaning, grinding hard and 
deep, his cock boring hard up into the hidden recesses of her womb. She was 
a mass of exquisite moisture at her crotch, and her loins blazed at her 
mind, overpowering all vestiges of thought other than that of the 
magnificent pressure building inside her. 

Nan's awareness had receded down the forgetful corridors of her mind. She 
was all sex and had lost all meaning except those found in tactile 
sensations. She was vaguely aware of Bill's hands running over her like 
searing tongues of flame, of his lips, of the hot friction of his body as it 
squirmed and swarmed against her. This was it! This was really it! Somehow 
it had never happened to her like this before. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Billy! Oh, wonderful Billy! Fuck me harder! Harder!" 

She panted and writhed, then heard his wailing breath. His cock was a huge, 
unrelenting animal, raging and hurtling into her, making her tingle from the 
tips of her toes to the back of her head. It was a dream... a nightmare of 
joy. 

She gasped out a scream. 'Oh God! Oooooooohhhhh Christ! I'm coming! IIII'MMM 
CUUUUMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNGGGG!" And even as she jerked and thrust against him, 
she felt his cock grow huge and begin to pump his hot, thick sperm far into 
her soft quivering belly, their juices mingling deep down inside in a wet 
pool of bliss and passion she had never dreamed could possibly exist. 

Her legs held tight to him as he continued pumping into her and then, 
together, their bodies relaxed and, still entwined, they sprawled on the 
bed. As their heavy panting eased, she felt his shriveling penis drop out of 
her, pulling a few dollops of his cum to dribble down between the cheeks of 
her ass and nestle slimily at the entrance to her anus. 

Soon Billy revived just enough to pull the blanket up over them and, wrapped 
up in each other's arms and legs, they slept. 

Billy fell immediately into a deep and blissful sleep. After a while he 
found himself dreaming his own version of Muslim heaven: cool waters, green 
grass, and hundreds of beautiful redheaded houris serving rare foods and 
wines and any favor he sought. That was a truly civilized heaven, he 
thought. No stupid harps, no big clumsy wings and all that flying around, 
just acres and acres of cool green grass to roll around on with Nan and 
ninety-nine like her. 

Nan dreamed, too. But her dreams were of the here and now. She dreamed of 
Billy, the ex-queer; of Paul Hanley, the poor man's rake; of Art Teffler and 
his friend Harvey, those two sadistic blood-loving near-humans; of Aaron 
Stemfelder, the dog lover; of the orgy club at Mrs. DiMintri's mansion, a 
good fucking quartet if Nan ever saw one; of lovely Mary Lipsher, who wasted 
no time but got much done; and even of nasty old Peter Dingle, whom she 
wouldn't know by sight, but whose smell she'd never forget. 

Most of all, however, she dreamed of Mae Gail Jetty, whose spirit seemed to 
preside over Nan's existence this past week. Nan would never forget Mae 
grinning, despite the little boy's penis in her mouth: Mae, who left the 
good life for a life of doing good. 

The good life held Nan now and it was no life for a good girl. But that 
didn't matter. She snuggled up to Billy's warm body and smiled in her sleep, 
as it occurred to her to wonder how many Billys would follow. 


THE END
