The Swedish Maid
by V. R. Conway / William Davis 


Special Note: William Davis is on the cover of the book as the author and V. 
R. Conway is on the inside of the book as the author. 


FOREWORD 

Author V.R. Conway has written on a subject that has lain dormant too long. 
He is bringing to the American reading public's attention an institution 
that has long been the subject of concern on the European continent. That of 
the "Au Pair" girl. We as Publishers, considering the fact that the 
wealthier families in the United States have begun using them in lieu of 
servants, are pleased to present the problems that have long been connected 
with the practice. 

First, we should explain exactly what an "Au Pair" girl is. She is a 
foreigner, who by virtue of advertising or through agencies established for 
this purpose, goes to live with a family in another country in order to 
learn the language of that country. She is not a maid and actually becomes a 
part of the family, eating at the same table, etc. In effect, she becomes a 
"daughter" to the household. She is expected to do light household chores 
much as any other member of the family and is given a small allowance for 
her own personal use, but no salary is paid. The practice works extremely 
well in theory and is the basic reason, aside from the requirements of the 
European school system that most of them are capable of speaking several 
languages quite fluently. How often has it been said, "My, those Europeans 
are clever at languages." Well, this is not exactly the case. They merely 
work at it harder than we do. 

Mr. Conway has interwoven a beautiful and suspenseful story of one of these 
girls attempting to adjust to an American family with the age old problem of 
"the middle age marriage slump." Mona, the wife, who is approaching her 
middle thirties finds her husband showing less and less interest in her. She 
is beset by fears that he is carrying on extra-marital affairs-which 
confidentially he is. He too has the typical fear of all men that his life 
is becoming meaningless and leading nowhere. He is approaching the point of 
no return and knows that he must make a change now or it will be too late 
and he will never again be in the position to fulfill all of his idealistic 
childhood dreams. 

These factors, according to major psychologists, with whom we concur, are 
the chief reasons for the present high-level of divorce in our country. 
Most, under these circumstances and if they could afford to be that honest 
in our present puritanical society, would recommend a very discreet and 
carefully selected affair for both parties. This would fulfill the necessity 
of change which one periodically requires and at the same time would hold 
the family unit together as it should be. He has brilliantly interwoven 
these elements with the predicament of the lonely European girl who has come 
into their home to be the "daughter." She, in effect, becomes the vicarious 
instrument that replaces the extramarital affair for both parties. She saves 
the marriage, though at the time she is not aware that it is happening, but 
in the end loses her own identity. She becomes merely a thing, whose sole 
value to the other parties is as a medium to re-kindle the flames of their 
dying marriage. It works and the only loser is the piteous young Swedish 
girl who has taken the position of "Au Pair" in the almost broken home. 

We, as Publishers, considering the fact that more and more young girls are 
coming to this country in this capacity and are going to be exposed to the 
varying psychological factors in each, are happy to bring the deeper 
problems that will arise from these arrangements to the American reading 
public. Protective measures should be enacted prior to that time to make 
certain that such a story, as envisioned by Mr. Conway, shall have no basis 
in fact. 

THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER 1 

The early morning air, lightly salted by the sparkling Pacific only two 
blocks away, wafted pleasantly through the open window. A mild spring breeze 
was blowing inland from the Golden Gate Bridge and gently stirred the upper 
branches and leaves of an overhanging eucalyptus tree, making them slither 
softly at the pane. The ripening foliage brushed and tapped against the 
glass, creating a rustling murmur in the room. 

The waking girl stirred languidly, stretching herself reluctantly into 
wakefulness. As her arms lifted, the single pink sheet which covered her 
fell away from her breasts. The cool air played across the bare white globe, 
raising tiny goose-bumps on the delicate skin. 

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the bright morning light which now 
flooded into her room. Her nipples tingled and throbbed slightly: the fallen 
sheet and the sudden change in temperature had caused them instinctively to 
harden and stiffen into tight sensuous pink buds. The girl smiled to 
herself, her hands slipping ever her breasts and giving them a brief but 
possessive fondling. 

She sighed, wishing for a moment that she could snuggle down in the bed 
again and let her hands roam dreamily over her body ... but in a few moments 
she knew the alarm would begin to shrill and it would be time to dress and 
prepare breakfast. 

Jacqueline regretfully released her breasts and threw the sheet back. She 
jumped quickly out of the warm bed and snatched up her robe. Tying it 
tightly around her waist so that the short silk garment clung sensuously to 
her curves, the girl crossed to the window. 

She breathed the crisp, clean air gratefully, drawing it deeply into her 
lungs and feeling the cobwebs of sleep being quickly banished. She looked 
out across the expanse of white and red roofed homes below at the rolling 
swells of the Bay and the brightly colored sails and spinnakers of the early 
morning amateur sailors who had already ventured out near Alcatraz Island. 
The view was breathtaking; it gave her a strong feeling of peace and 
serenity, assuring her that spring would always return, that the renewal 
life was constant and permanent and that her own youth and beauty were 
eternal. 

Jacqueline opened the sliding window a little farther and stepped out onto 
the balcony. The sky was light blue, a few fluffy clouds drifted lazily 
overhead. The girl stood motionless for several moments, lost in sweet 
contemplation of the tranquil seascape which stretched as far as the eye 
could see. 

She had repeated this ritual daily since the first morning she'd arrived at 
the Ashley's house, but it never failed to fill her with renewed delight and 
pleasure. Regularly, she awoke before her alarm sounded and spent these few 
precious minutes staring out at the panoramic expanse of land and sea. 

It seemed to still the frequent pangs of homesickness which overwhelmed her 
whenever she was alone in the house. Not that there were many of these 
moments of solitude: Mona Ashley was rarely out of the house for more than a 
few hours and even when the couple went out in the evenings she had the 
stereo and television to keep her company. 

But, it was at times like this, early in the morning and late at night when 
she was alone in her room, that Jacqueline felt the sharp yearning to be 
with her own family and friends again and to breathe the air of her beloved 
Sweden. When this longing became so intense that it threatened to overwhelm 
her completely, she would stand before the open window, staring blankly at 
the lights topping the Golden Gate in the West and dream reminiscently of a 
past way of life ... a life that had recently changed so much. 

These fleeting moments served not only to remind her of home, they enabled 
her to slip into a sweet reverie in which she pretended to herself that this 
really was Sweden-that the hills and blue waters of San Francisco were 
really the land and sea coast near her home in Malmo-that she was there 
again living with her Swedish father and French mother. 

Jacqueline smiled at the way she dramatized her situation. It was a bit 
melodramatic to have feelings like this-especially because she'd only been 
in The United States for three weeks and in another three weeks she would be 
going home anyway. 

Still, this working vacation was her very first trip abroad and after all, 
she was only 19 and a rather imaginative and sensitive girl. The Ashley's, 
although they still seemed a little unfamiliar to her, tried in every way to 
make her feel at home and only infrequently did Jacqueline find her thoughts 
straying towards her loneliness-the loneliness that gnawed just below the 
surface of her mind. 

She jumped, jolted out of her reverie by the strident, grating jangling of 
the alarm clock and reluctantly stepped from the balcony back into her room 
and switched it off. Quickly, because she was almost running out of time, 
she made her bed and stepped softly into the hall. 

Mr. and Mrs. Ashley wouldn't be awake for another fifteen or twenty minutes 
and Jacqueline tip-toed quietly to the bathroom. She turned the lock, ran 
the water for her bath and washed her hands and face. While the tub was 
filling, she brushed her teeth and casually pinned back her honey-blonde 
hair. 

She draped her robe on the hook by the door, pausing before she stepped into 
the tub to admire the shapeliness of her young body. Her image was 
half-obscured by the misty steam rising from her bath, but this only served 
to enhance the lovely vision: Jacqueline's figure was blurred and partly 
concealed, almost mysterious and shadowy in the fogged mirror. 

The girl stretched up on her toes, just able to see the blonde patch of 
soft, downy pubic hair nestling tantalizingly down between her legs. 
Impulsively, she reached for a small towel and wiped away the steam and then 
stepped back again. She could now see herself clearly-though the mirror was 
already beginning to cloud over. 

Perhaps it was the heat, or some subconscious awakening, but her nipples 
were thrusting from the center of her high and wide-spread breasts, taut and 
firm with a hard, pear-like prominence. She slowly moved her hands up her 
body, golden and glistening from the moistened air and finally she lightly 
caressed the sensitive, erected buds with the tips of her fingers. 

They tingled sweetly, stiffening deliciously into a greater and more 
strained rigidity. Dreamily, Jacqueline lowered her hands beneath the soft 
resilient mounds, raising them slightly and keeping her fingertips against 
her nipples. Rolling them in almost a circular motion, she let her 
fingertips press into the supple flesh. 

Closing her eyes and with one hand slowly tracing its sensuous way across 
each soft breast, she cautiously moved her other hand down her body past the 
curve of her hip toward the loosely tangled mound of soft, silky hair ... 
curiously so much softer than the other light sun streaked tresses that had 
somehow become unpinned and lay tousled and curled about her shoulders. 

Jacqueline opened her eyes to the sound of the tub that was almost 
overflowing and shakily stepped away from the mirror that had gradually 
become completely obscured by the steam that filled the room. She lowered 
herself into the bath until her body was covered completely, sinking down 
until the caressing warmth lapped around her neck. Instead of soaping 
herself immediately, she leaned back and let every muscle and nerve relax, 
luxuriating in the tantalizing feel of the scented water around her. She 
opened her legs, letting the gently swirling currents envelop her entire 
being-feeling it seep into her body through the slightly parted lips of her 
vagina. 

Her chin resting on the surface of the water, Jacqueline returned her hands 
to her breasts. They felt even more soft and smooth beneath the warm 
caressing water, delicate and gentle. Stroking them lightly and slowly so 
that it seemed to take an eternity to move her finger-tips from one aroused 
nipple to the other, she could feel time slowing almost to a standstill. The 
caresses, so tender and maddening, slowly lulled her into stillness and soon 
her eyes closed in sweet rolling waves of ecstasy-chilling and trembling 
waves coursing the entire length of her body. 

She could feel her hands, her loins-her whole body begin to quiver as she 
gradually increased the pressure of her touch. Exploring her breasts as if 
they were strangers to her own fingers ... tentatively ... then almost 
fiercely, her fingers nipped at the tiny, pink rosebuds. Squeezing, just 
touching ... and finally pinching, until a sensation of pleasant pain began 
to spread deliciously out from her breasts, enveloping her in her own 
private world of sweet and urgent delight. 

Her eyes opened a little and she looked down at herself, at her teasing 
hands that were bringing her so much pleasure. They seemed to be the 
strangers now ... elusive fingers belonging to a bold and unknown girl who 
had climbed into the bath with her ... someone who was dominating her 
completely and Jacqueline knew she had no will to resist the arousing 
caresses. 

Powerless, she watched her breasts being turned in slow revolving 
circles-lifted almost out of the frothing water so that for a moment her 
nipples were clearly visible, then lowered modestly beneath the surface 
again. She saw them being pressed firmly together, the warm globes rubbing 
ceaselessly against each other. And her nipples, which for a brief moment 
had quieted, once again began to react erotically to the relentless touch of 
the maddening fingertips, pulsating furiously now ... begging to be 
released-yet longing for the caressing to continue ... 

Her eyes grew hot and misty, clouded with desire. Her mouth felt dry and her 
breath came in long, heaving gasps. 

She rubbed her hand down over one breast, sliding it deliciously down her 
stomach until her fingers touched the soft, tingling curl of pubic hair. The 
growth was soft and silken, floating upwards as the hot water swirled gently 
around it. She stroked the firm rise of her sweetly aching mound, reaching 
her probing middle finger down the warm, velvet-like slit until it slipped 
easily into the open gently, throbbing lips of her vagina. 

Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Jacqueline began to work her long, 
sinewy middle finger deeper and deeper into the warm, moist cavern between 
her legs ... until finally it was buried completely up inside her. 

The hot caressing waters of her bath mingled indistinguishably with the 
flowing secretions that now churned deep in her belly and had lubricated the 
smooth fleshed passage to a point that she could almost effortlessly slide 
one ... and then ... two more fingers into the warm, hungry channel. 

Almost blinded by the ecstatic sensation of her moving fingers, she forced 
herself to keep her eyes open ... to watch the quickening movements of her 
half-obscured hand below the surface of the rippling water. 

Her hips writhed in small sensuous circles, grinding slowly beneath the 
steaming surface. Her thrusting hand moved more rapidly now as her desire 
mounted and the growing pulsations in her loins made her wince deliciously 
in pleasure. 

The water lapped deeper and deeper into the wide-stretched lips of her 
impassioned cunt, bubbling hotly as with a grimace, she forced a third 
finger all the way up into what now seemed to be the throbbing center of her 
entire existence ... Then, she was frantically thrusting almost the whole of 
her hand in and out, in and out, deep up into the tight, resisting opening 
between her wide-spread legs. 

Her other hand, that all the while had been teasing and tormenting the rigid 
tips of her heaving breasts, suddenly came into play-reaching down and 
searching desperately for the concealed button of her clitoris. Now, with 
both hands driving her into feverish, helpless passion she nearly fainted 
from the lewd, obscene pleasures she was bestowing upon herself. 

Then, almost before she knew it, it was upon her. 

She started to cum! 

Arching and thrusting her hips in waves of uncontrollable desire she sobbed 
and groaned as she fought to sustain her climax for as long as possible. Her 
warm, erupting juices merged with the rippling waters of her bath, boiling 
from deep in her belly past her straining fingers out into the steaming tub. 

Crying out, she drove her fingers ruthlessly up and down the narrow, 
tortured channel of her cunt-spluttering as her mouth went under water. She 
threshed wildly, throwing her hands out to grip the side of the tub to keep 
from drowning in her sudden fit of uncontrolled passion. 

The spell was broken instantly; her desire left her as quickly as it had 
come, leaving her frustrated and not completely relieved. Shakily, 
Jacqueline raised herself out of the tub and buried her face in a towel. A 
mixture of guilt and anger forced the tears to flow unchecked down her 
cheeks. 

She hated herself. She felt dirty and unclean, like a schoolgirl 
masturbating behind her parents' backs. What had made her touch herself like 
that? She had never before allowed her emotions to control her that 
way-never played with herself so openly and blatantly ... not in broad 
daylight, not watching her hands that way. 

Late at night, curled up in bed under the covers, with her eyes tightly 
closed, she had secretly slipped her fingers down between her legs and given 
herself pleasure. But to lie in the bath in broad daylight and- 

Jacqueline shivered with self-reproach. Caressing her body was one thing. 
Admiring the feel of her skin, running her hands over the soft curves of her 
body ... that was very pleasant and normal, certainly nothing to be ashamed 
of. Every girl did that ... she was sure they did! 

But her feelings and the way she had just aroused them was very different. 
Even earlier, when she had awakened with the cool breeze caressing her nude 
breasts, Jacqueline had felt stronger desires than ever before-the impulse 
to "do things" to herself. She had easily overcome the temptation-or so she 
imagined. But the warm water all around her body, liquid heat soothing and 
caressing her ... that had been too much! 

Dropping the damp towel to the floor, Jacqueline snapped herself back into 
reality. No, she told herself sharply. It wasn't just that you touched 
yourself that's making you feel so guilty-it's not even the bright daylight. 
She recalled-she forced herself to recall, that she had for moments 
pretended there was another girl in the bath with her! Another girl, 
fondling and stroking her aching body and bringing her such ecstatic 
pleasure. It was the memory of this fantasy that disturbed her so much. 

She had played a private game with herself. A game involving the imagined 
presence of someone else-not a man, but someone of her own sex! Like an 
electric shock, the realization of her thoughts jolted through her entire 
body-forcing her to acknowledge a desire she had subconsciously hidden all 
her life. 

Another girl ... it was impossible now to suppress the image ... it had 
finally reared its ugly head and was taking complete control of her. 
Jacqueline's body ached with longing for the gentle hands, the slender 
fingers of a soft-fleshed female to stroke the shapeliness of her trembling 
body ... to caress the hidden areas no one had ever touched before. Closing 
her eyes, she tried to re-create the dreamy blissfulness that had existed so 
few moments ago ... imagining the unknown hands that had so tenderly coaxed 
into smoldering fires of desire ... the merging of her body with another ... 
breasts pushing against breasts ... 

Jacqueline quivered, she trembled from head to toe. Her body glistened with 
water from the bath ... droplets trickling teasingly down the valley between 
her breasts, tickling like gentle fingertips down the insides of her thighs. 
She shivered again. 

Jacqueline: the innocent, the almost virginal Jacqueline. The girl who had 
scarcely explored her own body, let alone allowed her charms to be touched 
by other hands. Jacqueline: whose sexual awakening so long delayed, was now 
blossoming-making her ripe for new experiences. 

She let her eyes travel with new wonderment over her shining body, over the 
firm thrust of her thighs, over the flat paleness of her tummy, at the sleek 
curve of her hips. The body which no lover had ever known ... except her own 
magic fingers. 

She began to dry herself, rubbing the towel quickly over her moist skin 
until it tingled and glowed a healthy pink. She forced herself to 
concentrate all of her attention on the toweling of her body. Deliberately 
refusing to dwell any longer on the sexual implications of her experience, 
she thought only of the work that had to be done; Caine and Mona Ashley 
would be up by now and their breakfast had to be prepared. 

Her heart still pounded and she could feel her pulse racing wildly. She knew 
that no matter how hard she tried she wouldn't be able to completely control 
her feelings, they could never again be repressed and always, the thought of 
another girl's touches would remain with her. Always, with every reminder of 
her beautiful young body-every time she felt her breasts thrusting outwards 
(as she did even now, her nipples still tingling from the feel of the rough 
towel) Jacqueline would know again the glorious excitement she experienced 
when she had imagined another girl's caresses, hands holding her breasts 
possessively and teasing the nipples into tantalizing erectness. 

Jacqueline slipped into her robe and quickly rinsed the bath. 

Moments later, back in her room, she tried desperately to hide the knowledge 
from herself-the realization that she would never again be totally innocent. 
Although the seeds of desire had taken a long time to flower, they were now 
too vibrant to be ignored. Somehow, Jacqueline thought, somehow she would 
make her fantasy a reality. Only then would she be able to rid herself of 
the lingering thoughts of self-disgust and shame. Only by bringing her 
secret longings out into the open and facing them without fear or remorse 
would she be able to exorcise them. With a thrill of pleasure at the thought 
of her dream becoming a reality she brushed her golden hair and began to 
dress. 

* * * 

Downstairs, Mona Ashley stared at the empty bed beside her. Caine hadn't 
returned all night and she felt that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of 
her stomach-the same feeling that told her he had spent the night with 
another woman. 

There would be no proof, of course. There never was. Caine was far too 
clever and even considerate, for that. At least Mona hoped consideration was 
involved. She couldn't bear to think that he just didn't give a damn about 
her anymore and was careful only to avoid a disagreeable confrontation. It 
had happened so many times, so many lonely nights, that she had even stopped 
searching for the tell-tale traces of lipstick on his collar, the stray 
strands of hair on his clothing. And it would always follow the same 
pattern. He would be kind and solicitous to her for a few days afterwards; 
their relationship would, on the surface, be closer and warmer and he would 
talk to her more frequently. 

But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, he would change. He would withdraw 
back into himself-ignoring her completely except when he roused himself to 
find fault with something she had done or said. Times like these made it 
impossible for any warmth or contact between them and it was almost worse 
than not having him there at all. 

One day he would announce that he was leaving on an unexpected business trip 
and disappear for several days. She always tried to make herself believe 
that he had told her the truth, that he really was going to a meeting or a 
conference, but she knew she was deceiving herself. On his return, Caine 
once again would act out the role of a tender, loving husband. 

The pattern had been established for over a year and Mona felt powerless to 
change it. She searched herself desperately for a clue to the cause of their 
marriage breakdown but could find nothing that would help her understand 
what really had happened to them. She couldn't even pinpoint the exact 
moment they had begun to drift apart. 

Caine had moved away from her so slowly that there never had been a sudden 
realization that his feelings had changed. But he had changed, changed to a 
point that she could no longer delude herself into thinking that it was just 
a passing moment or mood. Even now, on the infrequent occasions when he made 
love to her, it had become an impersonal, almost clinical exercise-as if he 
were just using her to relieve himself, or perhaps, just to fulfill what he 
considered a husbandly obligation. Still, Mona could see that it was not she 
alone that was hurt by their cold and remote relationship-she could almost 
feel herself the inward suffering Caine tried to hide as he felt their life 
together dividing. But, when she pleaded with him to talk to her ... to find 
from each other what was the matter ... he would refuse to discuss the 
subject with her. When she persisted he would get angry, almost violent and 
she had no clue to the reason for his behavior. They had reached an impasse. 

And, if it hadn't been for Anne, Mona felt she would have left him long ago. 
To their daughter, Caine was always warm and affectionate; it was obviously 
something that she, Mona, had done to cause this rift between them. But, she 
never could discover what ... 

The tension generated by their estrangement was becoming more and more 
intolerable. If only Caine would talk to her! 

Mona pulled herself out of her contemplation and got out of bed. As she 
moved toward the closets to choose a dress for the day, she realized with a 
start that this time Caine hadn't even told her he was going away! She felt 
the familiar tears welling in her eyes and she bit her lip at the anguished 
helpless feeling. 

Fighting back the crying that was threatening to engulf her, Mona yanked the 
closet door open and dragged a dress from a hangar without even looking to 
see which one it was. She threw it on the bed and was about to close the 
door when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full length mirror. 

Her hands dropped to her side as she stared at the woman who was facing her. 
She stood quite still, almost reflectively, amazed at the beauty of image 
that confronted her-the glossiness of the waist-length ebony hair that Caine 
at one time had loved so much. Her hair was disheveled and tossed about her 
shoulders, but it seemed to add to her attractiveness rather than detract 
from it. 

The thin shoulder straps of her negligee had fallen away and the swellings 
of her large firm breasts would have been visible if it hadn't been for the 
shimmering cascade of black hair which streamed across her shoulders and 
bosom. Through the tresses, however, she could plainly see the tips of her 
ruby nipples-protruding budlike through the silken hair as if they were 
determined not to be hidden. 

Mona slowly ran her hands down the rest of her body; as if mesmerized; 
unable to move an inch; fascinated by the sensuousness she saw in the 
mirror. It had been so long, so very long since she had studied her body so 
carefully. Now she saw the fine slimness, the shapeliness of her thighs, the 
curves of her long legs ... 

Thoughtfully, Mona slowly rotated her body so that she could study her 
figure from the rear. The thrust of her buttocks under the clinging silk of 
her negligee was arousing and intriguing. She put her hands on the firm 
cheeks, pressing the white globes softly. The flesh moved easily beneath her 
touch-springing back into shape as Mona pensively rubbed her fingers over 
her bottom. 

She really didn't look like a woman of thirty-four with a fifteen-year old 
daughter, she thought proudly. Her figure was more voluptuous than ever; no 
sign of soft looseness anywhere and her flesh was firm and smooth to her 
hands. 

Mona turned back again to face the mirror. Perhaps I should take off my 
negligee and take a really critical look before I start to feel too pleased 
with myself, she murmured. Let's see if I still look as good with no clothes 
on at all ... 

She pulled the ribbon at her waist and allowed the nightgown to rustle to 
the floor. Because it was shaped to her body it fell slowly, giving her 
plenty of time to savor the sensation of the silk as it slithered down her 
skin. Raising her feet demurely, Mona stepped out of its folds and returned 
her gaze once more to the reflection in the mirror. 

Her long, lustrous hair still partially covered her breasts and she 
impatiently shook it out of the way. Her movement caused her breasts to 
bounce delightfully, wobbling free in a sensuous, rolling action. Mona ran 
her hands up from her waist to encompass them, taking the ivory orbs in her 
palms and raising them gently. 

Preciously, she held the warm melons-her nipples already starting to stiffen 
perceptibly. They were firm enough that they didn't need the added support 
of Mona's hands and by raising them she had increased their out-thrusting 
curve to almost unbelievable proportions. She let her fingers move up over 
her breasts until they released the full white globes, letting them fall 
back heavily into their normal position. 

Although she had scarcely touched them, her nipples were already thick and 
throbbing-the tight little petals flowering quickly under the urge that had 
seized her. 

Oblivious to everything except the fire that was raging up inside her, Mona 
moved away from the mirror toward the bed. In a trance-not even knowing the 
steps that had brought her there-she found herself under the covers. 

As if in a dream, her hands began to involuntarily massage the straining 
whiteness of her breasts, trapping the trembling nipples between her 
fingers, kneading and pulling until it felt as though she would tear them 
loose from the quivering white mounds. She groaned and turned over on her 
stomach, pressing the mound of her clitoris tightly into the 
mattress-attempting to relieve the fire that was suddenly raging out of 
control there. 

Her hand, completely against her will, burrowed down beneath her body and 
the bed and groped for the tangled mass of curled hair between her legs. Her 
legs scissored open, a foot dangling on either side of the bed. Her body 
trembled in ecstatic convulsions as her fingers found the moist opening of 
her pulsating cunt. She could feel the palpitations of her clitoris as her 
fingertips pried open the throbbing orifice ... exposing it to the heated 
air beneath the covers. With a groan, she sunk one of her middle fingers 
deep into the viscous moistened mouth between her thighs. Holding her 
breath, she felt relieved for a moment ... but only a very short moment. The 
fire within her raged even hotter, demanding more to feed its insatiable 
hunger. She inserted another finger, drawing her knees up to a kneeling 
position, with her buttocks raised high in the air behind her. Her head 
ground into the pillow and her feet thrashed wildly as she drove her fingers 
relentlessly in and out of her lust-maddened cunt ... gasping, she wished 
Caine were there ... she wanted to be fucked ... she wanted to feel his huge 
throbbing cock sliding and ramming into her ... drumming its way in and out 
like a great, glistening machine. Her gasps began to match the pounding of 
her fingers, as she screwed them even deeper into the hot searing passage. 
But, her fingers weren't enough as her thoughts reeled, remembering the 
urgent and delicious hammering of Caine's cock ... she had to have more but 
there was nothing ... nothing but her fingers! In desperation she reached up 
over her swaying buttocks, with her other hand searched the wet crevice and 
rammed a finger deep into the puckered anal hole between her moon-shaped 
buttocks. She cried out, as in her haste a fingernail cut into the soft 
fleshy wall, sending a sharp scream of pain through her quivering body. But 
the pain became a stilled moment of delicious agony as she once again took 
up the rhythm of the creaking bed springs ... as her fingers below drove 
into the roaring furnace of her cunt her other finger matched the ferocious 
pounding-and she could feel them sliding past each other-separated only by a 
thin tortured membrane of flesh inside her. 

Her full breasts hung and swayed beneath her kneeling body and her head 
banged into the headboard-the roaring in her ears was matched only by the 
frantic thrusting of both her hands ... and her face turned crimson as she 
felt it coming-coming in a great avalanche-she hung for a moment teetering 
on the edge of unconsciousness ... then her whole body vibrated; she could 
feel the white hot juices gush from between her rummaging fingers-covering 
her hand and streaming onto the mattress below. She could feel it running in 
tiny trickling rivulets down the insides of her trembling thighs to her 
bended knees. 

Mona stayed on her hands and knees for a while, her buttocks swaying as she 
tried to keep her balance. She couldn't bear to withdraw her fingers until 
the last dying throbs had stilled within her body. 

She lay there, panting harshly, fingers still tightly embedded in both 
aching openings of her body, eyes glazing over. And it was not until she 
heard the sudden gasp from the doorway and she realized that Jacqueline, the 
young Swedish girl, was standing there that Mona came back down to reality-a 
deep blush spreading over her face as she turned sideways to the bedroom 
door, her finger still crooked in her cunt ... 

 CHAPTER 2 

Jacqueline turned to go, backing out the door in confusion, her hand at her 
open mouth. "Excuse me," she stammered. "I didn't know you were-" 

Mona never knew exactly what compelled her to go to the girl and draw her 
back into the room. Except that she had to convince her that she was really 
ashamed of what she had been doing! But, much later she would see 
considerable ambiguity in her action-as if she had decided at that precise 
moment to set into motion a plan to recapture her husband's interest that 
had subconsciously been formulating in her mind since the girl arrived. 

"Please-don't go, Jackie," she urged the girl. "Stay ... please come in ... 
I must talk to you." Mona took her arm and led her into the room. Closing 
the door, she walked quickly to the chair where her robe was draped. She put 
it on and fastened the cord around her waist. 

"You mustn't go away like this, thinking all sorts of terrible things about 
me," she said. "I want to be frank with you, Jacqueline. I couldn't bear to 
be embarrassed for the rest of your stay-each time we saw each other ... I 
couldn't bear it. So let's be sensible and grownup about what you saw me 
doing." 

The girl was staring down at the floor, unable to meet Mona's eyes. "I was 
playing with myself-there's nothing so very terrible about that, is there?" 
Jacqueline was silent. "It's a perfectly normal, natural thing to do, you 
know." 

Mona smiled, surprised at the cool way she was dealing with the situation. 
"Why on earth should either of us be ashamed or disgusted? I'm sure every 
girl-and every boy, too, for that matter-has done the same thing. And if 
someone walks in and sees them doing it: well, so what?" 

Jacqueline still didn't reply. She stood there, nervously twisting her 
fingers, looking uncomfortable and disconcerted. Her long golden hair hung 
loosely about her shoulders, her slim young figure lithesome in a 
form-hugging grey sweater and pleated skirt. She wore no make-up but her 
pretty face with its high cheekbones and pale blue-grey eyes looked rouged 
as her color deepened at Mona's open conversation. 

"Please sit down, Jackie," Mona suggested. "Mr. Ashley is away and Anne's 
school holidays don't start till the end of the week, so there's no great 
rush to get the housework done and besides, I'd like to get to know you a 
little better. This looks like a good opportunity, don't you think?" 

Rather hesitantly, Mona thought, Jacqueline moved to a chair and sat 
gingerly on the very edge of the cushion. "That's better." Mona stepped a 
little nearer to the girl and helped herself to a cigarette from the box on 
the bedside table. "You don't smoke, do you?" 

Jacqueline shook her head. Mona was silent for a moment, then: "What do you 
think of us, Jackie? I mean, what do you really think of us?" 

The girl looked up at her in surprise. "What do you mean, Mrs. Ashley? I'm 
very happy here, of course-" 

Mona wagged a finger at her. "It's Mona," she admonished. "I told you when 
you first came-you're to call me by my first name. You're not a servant, 
you're one of the family." She looked at her cigarette with distaste. "These 
are foul the first thing in the morning!" She grimaced. And stubbed it out 
quickly in the ashtray. 

"No," she continued. "I really can't expect you to answer that question so 
easily, can I? In only three weeks, it's almost impossible to really get to 
know anyone, not well, anyway. Not even Americans!" Mona regarded Jacqueline 
thoughtfully. "But I would like to know you better, my dear," she said 
softly. "I hardly ever have an opportunity to meet any new people, apart 
from the neighbors-and they're awfully boring, most of them! Elderly or 
retired, or businessmen commuting back and forth to Los Angeles or New 
York-like Caine." 

She was conscious that she had put a faint but disdainful sneer into the 
words "like Caine." Jacqueline evidently noticed it, since the girl at last 
looked up and met her eyes. 

"Aren't you happy here, Mona?" she asked. And Mona was gratified to hear 
concern in the girl's voice. "I thought you had everything you wanted: a 
beautiful home overlooking the ocean. A husband, a child." 

Mona broke in impatiently. "Oh yes!" She cried. "I've got all the trappings 
of a good life-I have a home, I eat well, I have quite a few clothes ... and 
it's all empty as hell!" 

She reached out for another cigarette and as she put it between her lips she 
realized that her fingers were trembling. "You must have noticed that Caine 
is hardly ever at home! To keep us in all this-" She waved her hand 
contemptuously around the room-"he has to work almost around the clock. And 
when he could be here with us he prefers to ... " 

Mona stopped, realizing that her voice was growing hysterical. She waited a 
moment, controlling the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Softly she 
finished: "He prefers to sleep with other women! He treats me like a machine 
... an object!" 

The tears were running down her cheeks before she was aware that she'd 
started to cry. Mona brushed them away angrily. "I'm sorry, Jackie," she 
said. "I shouldn't burden you with my problems-it's not fair. But I've kept 
all this bottled up for so long ..." 

"It's all right, Mona." Jacqueline was at her side, her arms stealing around 
the older woman's shoulder, drawing her face against her stomach and 
stroking her hair tenderly. "Cry-it's the best thing to do!" 

When Mona's sobbing subsided, Jacqueline gave her a handkerchief and helped 
her dry her tear-stained face. "There, there," she soothed gently. "I'm sure 
things really aren't so bad. You're just upset, you'll see-in a moment 
you'll remember all the good times and the bad times will disappear ..." 

Mona managed a rueful smile. "I am a big baby, aren't I?" she said. "I'm 
sorry Jackie-I'm sorry about everything. Especially about your seeing what I 
was doing to myself!" 

"No," Jacqueline told her. "Let me tell you something that will make you 
smile." Mona listened, fascinated as always by the liquid sound of 
Jacqueline's Swedish accent. "The reason I was so embarrassed when I walked 
in is that I was doing exactly the same thing this morning! And I already 
felt so ashamed! Then I came in to wake you ... it was the shock, Mona! To 
see you doing what I had been doing! It startled me so much!" 

They stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Mona 
clutched Jacqueline around the girl's waist and giggled helplessly. 

"How silly we are," she gasped. "Oh, Jackie, we both had the same secret and 
were so stupidly ashamed of it!" Mona could feel the young girl's body 
shaking with laughter against her face. Through the thin sweater she could 
smell the sweetness of Jacqueline's perfume-a subtle and fresh bouquet that 
blended wonderfully with the girl's feminine scent. 

She drew Jacqueline down until her ear was level with Mona's mouth. "Tell 
me," she whispered. "Did you enjoy touching yourself, Jackie? Tell me what 
it was like ... " 

The girl stiffened slightly, then Mona felt her body relax again. "I was in 
the bath," she replied, lowering her voice to a husky, breathy whisper. 
"And, suddenly I felt this desire to-to feel myself. Do you know what I 
mean?" 

Mona nodded, keeping her lips close to Jacqueline's ear, her face only scant 
inches from the Swedish girl's. 

"I pretended to myself that it was another girl who was touching me," 
Jacqueline continued. Her voice was so low that Mona had to strain to hear 
what she was saying. "I put my fingers between my thighs and ... " 

"Yes?" Mona felt breathless, a curious constriction in her throat as she 
waited for the girl to go on. 

"I touched myself, very intimately," Jacqueline whispered. "Right inside ... 
I put my fingers right inside myself-just as you did, Mona. The hot water 
made me feel so sexy ..." 

"Then afterwards, I hated myself for being so weak and for having such awful 
thoughts-" 

"Awful?" Mona murmured. "What was so awful about them?" 

Jacqueline's eyelashes fluttered nervously. "To imagine another girl 
touching me? Don't you think that's awful, Mona?" 

"Why no," Mona said slowly. "I don't really think that's bad. Has it ever 
happened to you, Jackie? Have you ever been caressed by a girl?" 

"No ...? Jacqueline's voice trembled. She breathed the word out and managed 
to make it sound more like an invitation than a denial. "Have you, Mona?" 

"Once," Mona told her. "A long time ago-at school. Why do you think it's so 
awful, darling, if you've never experienced it?" The endearment was spoken 
before she realized what she was saying. And Mona knew that even if, at the 
start, she had only intended to tease the girl, from this moment on she was 
deadly serious in her flirtation and in the plan to regain her husband's 
favor that she had only dared dream about before this accident. The hair's 
breadth between playfulness and seduction had been crossed-perhaps without 
either of them realizing it. And ... Mona realized that she would have to 
hurry if she was going to have the stage set before her husband returned 
home. She might never get the chance again. 

 CHAPTER 3 

He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, sending the Aston Martin in a 
fierce forward thrust down the wide four-lane freeway. The throaty growl of 
the exhaust modulated to a screaming roar as the carburetor opened up and 
the speedometer needle hovered in the high nineties. Although the maximum 
California speed limit was 65 mph, Caine rarely kept the high-powered sports 
car coupe within the legal limit. He had gone through several types of 
automobiles, both European and American, before he had finally allowed 
himself the luxury of the Aston and now, even though it had been several 
months since he'd first picked it up, he still thrilled to its 
responsiveness and power. 

The rush of commuting traffic had passed a couple of hours earlier and as he 
headed into San Francisco the freeway was relatively deserted. The Bay on 
his right and the green hills to his left sped by as he drove on, watching 
the long silver-grey hood of the car greedily swallow up the few remaining 
miles. 

Caine was a large man; but his muscular body was that of a much younger man. 
Tanned and toned by regular exercise and by his twice weekly tennis 
workouts, he still retained the angular lines and the even distribution of 
weight of his youth. His eyes were brown and his face, now twisted into a 
dark scowl, normally expressed the calm, cool confidence of a man who has 
found his niche in life and is contented with it. 

The lines of middle age were prematurely etched into his forehead and around 
his full and rather sensuous lips. But this, instead of being damaging, 
leant maturity to his almost too handsome face and instilled confidence in 
his business associates who might otherwise consider him too young for the 
heavy responsibility he shouldered. 

He had long ago trained himself to neither reveal or be shaken by emotion: 
and he dealt with the everyday crises of television advertising with calm, 
methodical deliberation. 

As a matter of fact, if his associates or clients were asked to pinpoint a 
flaw in Caine they might have said he was almost too reserved ... he had a 
way of making others feel a little inadequate because he seemed to be able 
to disassociate himself from the minor weaknesses that made human beings out 
of others. 

But these same people; if they knew just a little more about Caine, about 
the double private life he was leading, probably would have felt more at 
ease around him. There was another side to him that virtually no one knew 
about ... a yearning that had gradually caused a tremendous change in his 
personality-it was scarcely apparent to his business colleagues, though 
those who knew him on a social level had started to remark on his sudden 
abruptness, his frequent bad temper-and his highly changeable moods. 

The simple reason for Caine's discontent was that he had reached the age of 
35. In itself, the fact meant nothing. He still had many years of relative 
youth to him; he had an assured, safe future ahead-and outwardly he had 
every reason to be satisfied with his life. 

And yet the thought had struck him a few months ago that none of his secret 
dreams and ambitions as a boy had been realized. None of them. He had 
settled for an unimaginative, pedantic existence: burying himself in the 
everyday demands of his work, letting his life revolve around church fetes, 
visits to the City theatres, bridge clubs and all the other narrow, 
time-consuming activities of the half-asleep minds around him. 

That was the crux of the matter: he, too, had been half-asleep all these 
years, Caine saw. Doing all the "right" things, like getting married and 
working his way up through an increasingly tedious job. For twenty years he 
had spent his life like a man in a dream while the promises he had made to 
himself as a youth lay forgotten in the recesses of his mind: slumbering 
while he wasted his good years, his vital years ... 

He had wanted to travel, to write, to meet exciting and creative people. He 
had meant to learn several languages, extend his awareness of the world. 

Bitterly, Caine moved the car out to the center of the highway and overtook 
a truck. As he passed it and drew back into the nearside lane, a mad urge 
came over him suddenly, to hit the brakes and let the truck slam into the 
rear of the Aston Martin and put an end to his self-pity. 

His hands were damp-he gripped the steering wheel tightly, forcing his foot 
to remain on the accelerator. A bead of sweat trickled from his forehead 
into the corner of one eye and he blinked it away, hating himself for being 
so cowardly and indecisive. 

The moment had passed. The moment when he might have taken the quick way out 
of his misery was gone-perhaps never to return. Because, as his tension 
slowly evaporated, Caine realized how childish and neurotic he was to think 
of suicide. Killing himself was the very last resort-and he hadn't yet 
exhausted all the possibilities of redeeming his life. Not yet. 

His affair with Samantha Beattie had proved a failure but so what? There 
were plenty of other women who would be willing enough to become his 
mistress. And he still might be able to bring himself to leave Mona ... 

Caine was forced to smile wrily as he reflected once more that good old sex 
was at the bottom of it all. The deep, ancient biological urge to fornicate! 
Give him the opportunity to fuck without remorse, without guilt-and he knew 
that his salvation would be in sight. 

Because sex represented freedom to him. Freedom to prove himself, freedom to 
show the world that he was an individual, a cut above the mediocre level of 
his snobbish, insipid neighbors. And yet, for reasons he didn't understand, 
Mona was unable to fulfill his need in this direction. It may have been 
simply that she was his lawful wife; there was no element of surprise, of 
titillation in their relationship. There never had been, Caine recalled. 
From the very first, Mona and he had been the most perfunctory of 
lovers-rather wooden, unimaginative in their sex-play. 

And although he wanted the challenge of another, a younger girl, Caine had 
been unable to seriously contemplate leaving his wife. Perhaps she 
represented the bonds which still tied him to his present environment. Or 
maybe it went deeper than that, he couldn't be sure. 

But now that Samantha had left him, he knew that he simply had to make some 
sort of break from Mona, even if it was only a temporary estrangement. The 
pressures were again building up in his mind. He could feel his head 
beginning to ache with the taunting of his newly-awakened ambitions, 
insistent and demanding. 

As he drove, having to slow down now as he neared the city, Caine thought 
back to the previous evening and his last encounter with Samantha. She was a 
girl an advertising agency had brought over one afternoon sometime ago to be 
used in one of the television commercials-more than just being pretty, she 
was a strikingly beautiful girl and an electric shock seemed to crackle 
between them as they were introduced. 

Under the pretense of having to discuss the mood he desired in the 
commercial before they filmed it the following day, he asked her to join him 
at the SEXTANT, on lower Powell Street, his hangout in San Francisco, for a 
drink. They both knew the commercial was only an excuse and when they sat 
down in the dimly lit cocktail lounge which always seemed to be crowded with 
secretaries and stewardesses, they didn't even go through with the hypocrisy 
of discussing business. 

The event was so out of character that Caine was amazed to find himself 
chatting quite easily with her, as if he'd been doing this sort of thing for 
years. As they talked Caine found that nothing in her personality diminished 
the attraction he had felt when she first walked into his office ... on the 
contrary, her smoldering glances and spirited conversation made him feel 
vibrantly alive-the envious glances in his direction only increased his 
excitement. 

Samantha told him that she only came into San Francisco when she received a 
modeling call from her agent, that she spent most of her time painting and 
strolling the beaches near her home in Carmel. It seemed that even before 
they sat down they had mutually agreed that she would become his mistress 
and rather than move her into an apartment in the city Caine started making 
plans to get down to Carmel as often as possible. 

The irony was that Caine had frequently spent weekends away from home, 
letting Mona think that he had been sleeping with other women, for years! 
Now his pretense had suddenly become a reality ... 

For a month or two they were very happy together. He'd drive or fly the 
hundred or so miles to Carmel and she'd be waiting eagerly to meet him. He'd 
take her to the theatre, to some of the finest restaurants down the 
Coast-and she'd take him back to her cottage among the cypress trees by the 
ocean. It was a cluttered little place, jammed with her paintings that he 
never really understood. But he grew to love the messiness of her studio and 
the small bedroom, because to him it represented the disorderly chaos for 
which his soul yearned: the complete antithesis to his usual surroundings. 
He liked to sit on the shabby, Victorian sofa she'd bought cheaply at a junk 
shop. He liked to climb the crooked path through the trees and pretend as if 
he lived there permanently: that his work and Mona and Anne didn't exist. 

But most of all, Caine liked to take Samantha to bed with the sound of the 
surf crashing and reverberating outside the opened windows. The thunder of 
the waves and the screeching seagulls added a forbidden orgy-like daring to 
their love-making, making him feel that he was at last catching up with the 
missed opportunities of his youth. 

But last night he had seen the cottage for the cheap, unattractive mess that 
it was. The peeling wallpaper, the stale cooking odors, the pathetic 
attempts that Samantha had made to brighten it up ... 

"How can you stand it here?" he heard himself asking her. "It's so dirty, so 
sordid-and the people all around you: they're nothing more than a bunch of 
cop-outs from responsibility. You're in great demand as a model, surely you 
can afford something better than this?" 

Samantha had looked at him in surprise. His criticism had come right out of 
the blue and it shocked her to hear so much supercilious distaste in his 
voice. She felt at home here; more than that-she wanted to live here. It 
gave her a sense of living in the creativity of a Bohemian community and 
although she had to travel to San Francisco for her modeling jobs, Samantha 
entertained hopes of one day throwing up her job and trying to make the 
grade as an artist. 

She had been to art school but so far hadn't been able to summon the courage 
to show her work to a gallery. Came had seen most of her paintings; they 
were modern abstracts and he professed a polite admiration for them while 
suppressing his private opinion that they were hideous daubs scarcely worth 
the canvas they were painted on. 

Poor Samantha ... Caine allowed himself to feel a momentary regret for the 
sad, lost little girl who would probably never leave her modeling until age 
had taken its toll and she was no longer in demand. She would probably end 
up married in some Mid-Western town, settled down in a terraced house 
somewhere in the suburbs. Her brief artistic flowering would die a painful 
death, strangled by her own lack of talent and the pressures of the mass 
media-which exhorted her and thousands of girls like her to live a "normal, 
healthy, everyday life ... " 

As soon as he'd voiced his opinions of her home, Caine wanted to bite the 
words back. Samantha wasn't so very far removed from him at all, he 
realized. She, too, was struggling to escape from her background-and, like 
him, seemed doomed to an early failure. 

Before she could reply, he reached out quickly for her hand and pressed 
fingers gently. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to say that. 
Honestly-I apologize." 

Samantha had shrugged both his remarks away as if they didn't concern her. 
"What do I care?" she told him. "If you don't think much of it, that's up to 
you!" 

He lifted her chin until her lips were in line with his and kissed her. Her 
body shivered slightly against him and he knew for certain that she had been 
hurt by his words. He squeezed her tightly, his hands on the back of her 
shoulders, fingers feeling her flesh through the thin material of her dress. 

Her mouth slowly grew more responsive under the pressure of Caine's lips. 
She began to pant, thrusting her body forward until he felt the hardness of 
her crotch pushing against his loins. 

"Darling!" he breathed when they at last broke for air. "Oh, my darling!" 
(Wanting to tell her that he loved her but finding the words obstinately 
sticking in his throat). 

Her eyes were still closed, her lips moist from the kiss. Samantha's passion 
was easily aroused, no more than a sufficiently prolonged kiss serving to 
make the girl misty-eyed and eager for greater intimacies. 

Caine's cock stirred upwards as he looked down into her face. She was so 
very young, not much older than Anne, his daughter. He couldn't help 
thinking of her, all the same, as an object rather than a person. Samantha 
represented no more to him than a pliable, beautifully curved body which 
merged with his and brought him a sweet and deep sexual satisfaction. 

Her identity as a separate individual, her existence outside her usefulness 
as an instrument of pleasure was vague and lost to him. Small wonder, Caine 
thought, that the words "I love you" wouldn't come to his lips. They were 
meaningless ... an empty phrase which merely seemed appropriate in this 
situation: much as "I beg your pardon" was obligatory if you bumped into 
someone in the street. 

However, this realization, far from diminishing his lust, served to 
intensify it. He slipped his hands down until they encompassed her warm, 
soft buttocks, then raised the girl off her feet-holding her tightly against 
his body, supporting her by pressing his fingers into the warm, pliant 
cheeks of her bottom. 

She wound her arms about his neck, opening her mouth and beginning to nibble 
softly at his earlobe as he carried her to the bed. 

Caine sat her down so that Samantha was standing on the sheets, her breasts 
level with his face. Keeping his hands on her buttocks-starting to massage 
the softness of her curves with wandering fingers-he rubbed his cheek 
against them, feeling the globes flatten slightly and press warmly into his 
nose. He could hear her heartbeat, thudding with a muffled but distinct 
rhythm next to his ear. 

Slowly, she knelt, dropping to her knees so that her head was just barely 
below his. She kissed his throat and began, at the same time, to unbutton 
his shirt. His whole body was trembling slightly now as his shirt came open 
all the way down and she eased it gently out from his trousers and helped 
him pull it off his arms ... 

She kissed his chest tenderly and her own hands seemed to indulge in a 
tremoring delirium as she stroked his back, his sides and then her hands 
moved down to his zipper. 

Caine's breath was coming in burning gasps. He found it impossible to keep 
still as she teased the zipper down. His stomach hollowed and expanded, his 
hips writhed gently as if a great outside force was making them do it. 

Her hands had nearly completed their work. He waited tensely for the first 
touch of her deftly moving fingers on the thin tissue of his shorts. As he 
felt it he convulsively jerked his hips away just as she undid the catch 
that held his trousers. 

His trousers fell to the floor, a ridiculous pile around his ankles and he 
stepped out of them, reveling in the sensual freedom of the cool air on his 
legs. 

Her lips moved over his chest and stomach and then he felt her fingertips 
slipping under the elastic band of his shorts. Slowly and tantalizingly she 
tugged them down ... his throbbing penis slipping suddenly into view as she 
pushed the shorts all the way down. 

When he had kicked his shorts away and looked up, Samantha's eyes were 
fastened on his organ and her mouth was slightly open. She moved her gaze up 
his body until their eyes met ... there was a smokiness in her look and 
under the thin material of her dress, Caine could see her breasts heaving as 
if they were trying to escape. 

For a moment they gazed at each other. Caine tried to swallow, but his 
breath seared his throat ... fiery gusts pouring from the furnace of his 
lungs. He had no control over the tremoring of his body. 

Samantha moved her hands up to her breasts as if she would try to still 
their rise and fall and she breathed, almost as if to herself the words: "Do 
it to me, darling." 

She moved backward on the bed ... and Caine almost lost his balance as he 
leaned to join her ... his testicles swaying and brushing against his thighs 
as he moved. 

She waited for him to reach her and as the impact came, her mouth opened 
wide and her arms swept around him. She bit at his lips as he kissed her and 
then her tongue was worming silkily into his mouth and she was drawing him 
further back into the bed. The covers were drawn back and she allowed 
herself to fall backwards into the soft sheets, pulling him down with her. 

His organ was pressing hotly against the soft, coolness of her dress and the 
weight of a great animal instinct raged in his loins. 

Under him her legs wriggled apart and caught his penis between them, 
squeezing it gently between the walls of her thighs. His genitals seemed to 
break out into a sweat. 

Gently, Samantha levered him off her and he allowed himself to fall away to 
her side, willing to be instructed, obedient to her wants. He subsided on 
his back with warmth pressing along his side as she rolled over towards him. 

Then, with a quick movement she threw back the covers and his rampant penis, 
thick and veined, its broad sensitive tip almost purple from the sensual 
friction of her thighs, shot into view. 

He tried to lay quiet, stroking her breasts with one hand while her eyes 
wandered down the length of his organ. She reached over and brushed the 
length of her cascading hair away from its protruding rigidity and at her 
touch his penis gave an involuntary jolt, moving sharply up towards his 
belly and then receding again to the perpendicular. Her eyes moved away over 
his testicles and fingers moved away too, to stroke them. Caine closed his 
eyes and as he tensed, his penis seemed to elongate-presenting itself to 
Samantha like a rigidly rearing snake. 

As if the slight movement of tension had been an offering to her lips, she 
suddenly lowered her head down to his loins and took the hardened pink head 
of his cock deep into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. 

At the soft, moist pressure, Caine opened his eyes. With his entrails 
contorted in the pain of a new sensation, he saw her, dark head bent, eyes 
narrowed in passion, concentrating on the gentle sucking. He watched her 
cheeks hollowing, her lips moving as she sucked and the urgency of his 
passion seemed to become unbearable. 

Her head was moving forward and backwards as she urged more and more of the 
thick, pulsating organ between them. 

Wildly, Samantha sucked and caressed his trembling cock. She held its base 
steady with her fingers, keeping the throbbing rod in position, while she 
ran her tongue over and over the sensitive pulsating head ... making it jerk 
spasmodically with every velvet swirl around its circumference. 

He looked down. She was making frantic little noises, her eyes staring at 
the length of red-veined maleness which kept disappearing between her lips 
and then slipping half out again pulling the flesh of her inner lips out 
with it as though they were fighting to retain it inside. 

She had opened her mouth as widely as possible, but it was still all she 
could do to contain the enormous width and length of his fully erected cock. 
Her lips were stretched wide around it, their pink lipsticked edges clasping 
him like a wide, red rubber band. 

With every inward draw of Samantha's lips, Caine felt his penis thickening 
and growing harder. The tight pressure of the girl's mouth seemed to be 
trying to suck the building sperm from him prematurely. He had, more and 
more frequently, to forcibly restrain himself from yielding to her lusting 
urgings ... 

Why not? Why don't you let her taste it? The idea came abruptly to his mind. 
Give it to her-go on, let her find out what it's like! 

This was the very first time they had practiced this form of love-making and 
Caine wondered for a moment how Samantha would react to having her mouth 
flooded with his hot, liquid semen. 

But it was increasingly difficult to hold himself back-and, seized by the 
novelty of the desire, Caine began to urge his prick further and further 
into the girl's mouth. He felt her trying to hold his cock away; the full 
length of it between her lips was gagging the girl and she fought against 
his efforts to jam it completely inside her. 

Ruthlessly, he brought his hands up and drove his fingers through her hair. 
Then, holding her head in a vice-like grip, Caine kept her steady while he 
lunged his prick all the way in until he heard her gurgle slightly. 

Right to the hilt it sank, until he could feel Samantha's hot, pulsing mouth 
covering every inch of his straining cock. 

He withdrew slightly, only to thrust it forwards again with even greater 
determination. Samantha put her hands on his thighs, choking and vainly 
trying to push him away. 

Her nails scratched desperately at his legs ... and then he felt her 
submission. Slowly, the girl's desire outgrew her initial fear of the 
immensity of his weapon and she began to lick her tongue hungrily along the 
underside of Caine's stiff and pulsating penis. 

It quivered like an arrow in its target, the nerves feeling raw and 
vulnerable as Samantha extended her tongue as far as possible and repeated 
the swirling caress. 

Again and again the girl licked the very tip of her tongue along its length, 
curling it backwards so that Caine could feel it lapping insatiably around 
its hard pulsating head. At the same time, Samantha worked her lips in a 
side to side movement-making them slither with wet freshness against his 
fast-jerking penis. 

Now that she had herself under control, Samantha moved her hands from 
Caine's thighs ... around to the backs of his legs. At first, she just 
massaged the cheeks of his buttocks ... but then she went further ... 

Her skillful hands eased the straining spheres apart and she coaxed her 
forefinger slowly and provocatively into his anus. 

Insistently and steadily, she penetrated the back passage, sticking her 
ringers as deeply into his small tight orifice as it would reach: using the 
remainder of her fingers to softly caress his tender scrotum. 

Caine felt himself shivering and trembling with desire. Mona would never, 
never have done such things to him. This beautiful girl! This wonderful, 
beautiful, thrilling Samantha! 

He panted harshly as her finger wiggled around inside the tightness of his 
ass. But, in spite of the obscene action of her finger in his rectum, it was 
the never-ceasing fondling of his scrotum, the base of his penis and 
testicles, that brought him finally to orgasm. 

Her finger tickled its way from the hanging sacks of his balls, stroked 
lovingly and breathtakingly down the hard ridge of flesh ... then pause for 
a moment around the raised bump of his anus before returning by the same 
route to his testicles again. 

An all the time, with her saliva continually moistening his prick, Samantha 
was sucking like a hungry child on his fully embedded penis. Sucking as if 
she wanted to savor the sweet, pungent taste of his manhood forever! 

The almost obscene combination of her attentions was too much to bear for 
very long. Caine was forced to close his eyes; the room had started to spin 
helplessly before him and he could hardly keep from screaming out into the 
room. 

A more insistent urgency than he had ever experienced welled up in his 
penis. It seemed to generate from the pit of his stomach and streak like an 
electric current through his balls. With a muffled shout, he groaned and 
launched a torrential flood of steaming warm sperm jet-like into Samantha's 
mouth-contracting the muscles of his ass and urging the thick fluid deep 
down into her throat. 

There was one long excruciating gush; immediately followed by several 
shorter ones. The fluid jetted with maniac power, as if it had lain dormant 
for years inside his testicles. 

Caine's fingers clenched into the girl's hair, unable to release her until 
every drop of his precious white-hot sperm had been pumped far down into her 
contracting throat. 

And she obediently drew steadily on his prick until she was sure that the 
last bitter globule had been wrung from its tiny spurting opening. The fluid 
still rushed down her throat, heady nectar which she swallowed with mounting 
enthusiasm-knowing that she was drinking from the most secret spring of all 
... 

Only when Caine's penis began to wane did he withdraw it limply from 
Samantha's mouth; thin strings of his semen following it out. Then he 
half-fell back onto the bed, pulling her with him. He held her tightly, 
kissing her and tasting the strange but not unpleasant moisture surrounding 
her lips. 

While he rested, waiting for his breathing to become less labored, Samantha 
ran her eyes slowly over his body. He was still a complete stranger to her 
really, despite the intimacy of their bodies. Perhaps that was all he had 
wanted from her: uncomplicated sex-with no strings or emotional involvement 
attached to their relationship. 

She sighed. How could it be possible to do what she'd just done to a man and 
still feel so cold towards him? 

Maybe it was her own fault for going to bed with someone so much older than 
herself, Samantha reflected. He wasn't really her type after all. His eyes 
were dead. His conversation was stilted. And he had made not the slightest 
attempt to get close to her-for all their physical knowledge of each other, 
she felt more remote from him than the newspaper vendor on the corner. 

At least he hadn't lied to her, though. He hadn't sworn that he loved her 
when it was transparent to her that he didn't. That was something, she 
supposed. 

All the same, she was clearly wasting her time with him. That was obvious. 
He was presumably having a few final flings before resigning himself to a 
dull marriage. She meant nothing more to him than perhaps a symbol of his 
virility. 

And Samantha wanted much more from a man than that. She wanted- 

Caine opened his eyes and immediately noticed the troubled expression in her 
eyes. He held out his arms and Samantha moved close to him, snuggling up to 
his body, her stockinged legs crisp against his thighs. 

She didn't know why she was so complaisant when he reached out for her. She 
enjoyed their love-making, but the periods in between were becoming 
increasingly flat and tedious. Surely it would be better to simply tell him 
they were through? End their affair before it was killed by mutual 
indifference? 

Coolly, she let her body lie passively against his as he began silently to 
undress her. She moved from time to time to assist him but found no 
excitement in the ritual. 

Caine drew down the small zipper at her hip and released the hook. He pulled 
the dress up over the girl's thighs; the sight of Samantha's tiny black 
panties reawakening his desire. 

The panties formed a very sharp Vee, coming almost to a point at the slight 
swelling of the pubic mound between her legs. Their sides were cut away to 
nothing but a flimsy half-inch strip of material-exposing her long slim 
thighs and the fleshy curve of her hip. 

Samantha helped him take her arms out of the straps and Caine tugged the 
dress off completely. She wore a conventional bra which contained her 
breasts in twin cups of black silk. 

He reached behind her and unfastened it, lifting the undergarment away from 
her bosom. Caine stared for a moment at the naked challenge of Samantha's 
breasts; the ivory orbs wobbling gently as they came free of the restraining 
cups. 

The aureoles around her nipples were larger than usual; brown circles that 
strongly emphasized the hard red centers. Although Caine had studied them on 
several previous occasions, he always found Samantha's breasts the most 
fascinating part of her body. 

He left her panties, stockings and garter belt on-bending his face nearer 
and nearer to the heart of the girl's right breast. The nipple swung sweetly 
against his teeth. He opened his mouth and the pearl slipped neatly between 
his lips, growing stiller as it came into contact with his exploring tongue. 

Caine licked across it tentatively. The nipple tasted warm and intimate; a 
delicious drowsiness began to steal over him as he gently sucked it wetly 
into his mouth. He drew it firmly in, taking a generous portion of the firm 
but resilient flesh between his lips at the same time. 

Then his teeth sank in a possessive bite around the soft white skin, 
trapping the nipple and surrounding firmness. He chewed into the globe, 
relishing the succulence of the girl's breast with his lips and pushing the 
fragile orb back and forth with his tongue. 

Meanwhile, Caine's hands wandered leisurely over the rest of her body. They 
fondled slowly down her chest to the flatness of her midriff. He paused 
there, running his fingers across the tautly nipped-in garter belt just 
below the curl of her navel. 

He lifted it up gently, then let it fall with a faint but exciting whack 
back onto Samantha's hip again. Still caressing her nipple and breast with 
his lips, he petted his way over her abdomen and stroked the satin 
smoothness of her belly. 

She stirred slightly, turning her hips in an exciting though momentary 
wriggling. Caine's fingers touched the top of her panties: he lifted them 
away from her stomach tenderly, just enough to slip his fingers beneath the 
elastic band and feel downwards toward the juncture between her thighs. 

He felt the marvelous flatness of her stomach ... and then the soft 
fleeciness of her pubic mound-scarcely a mound at all, so gently did it 
taper off into nothingness. 

He stretched his fingers a little further below the tight fit of her 
panties. There it was! The tender opening of her vagina! Caine rubbed softly 
at the tiny opening to the already moist slit, coaxing the lips apart, 
urging them to yield and permit his finger to enter the moist opening of her 
vagina which lay throbbing behind the concealing hair-lined lips. 

Samantha trembled again-and gradually raised her buttocks up off the bed, 
spreading her legs at the same time so that his fingers could have the 
easiest possible access to her tingling vagina. 

Once more she felt excited by his clinical detachment as he gently opened 
her and began to insert his forefinger into the hot pulsating moistness of 
her cunt. Before slipping into a blissful enjoyment of what he was doing to 
her, Samantha realized that it was possible to be aroused sexually by the 
very treatment that repelled her emotionally. 

She was mildly shocked to think that she was lying here, enjoying Caine's 
extremely subjective caressing of her body. It seemed immoral, somehow, more 
so than the fact that she was committing adultery! 

There wasn't the slightest doubt in her mind that he was thinking 
exclusively of his own pleasure and did not care about her at all. He 
betrayed the fact with every gesture he made. With every movement of his 
lips, every caress of his fingers, he showed her that he regarded her as a 
living, breathing, responsive ... model! 

A figurine on which to practice his lust; that was all she meant to him. And 
yet, Samantha, despising and loathing him for this when they were fully 
dressed, admitted secretly to herself that she got quite a kick out of the 
sheer perversity of the situation once they were naked and in bed together. 

And now Caine's actions were rendering her quite incapable of introspection 
and analysis. She felt a rising pleasure growing between her legs and which 
intensified rapidly and she relaxed herself to savor the delights. 

Caine was rubbing his finger up and down the moistened slit between her 
thighs, as slowly as humanly possible ... not yet penetrating it, but the 
friction and excitement he caused as it passed back and forth across the 
rising bud of her throbbing clitoris was beginning to almost drive her out 
of her mind. 

And his teeth had closed even more tightly around the base of her 
nipple-nibbling with a mock ferocity on its tender rigidity; a trembling 
passed through her breast that inflamed her almost as much as the ruthless 
fingering below. Her breast was being sucked as it had never been sucked 
before! She longed to tear it from his mouth-to put an end to the tortuous 
biting! But those sharp teeth! 

Instead, Samantha reached between Caine's thighs for his penis-determined to 
make him suffer for the torment he was subjecting her to. 

To her surprise she found that his cock was already thick and swollen again! 
Her fingers closed around its middle and the stiffened prick throbbed in 
their grasp ... the veins pulsing in the palm of her hand. 

Samantha started to toy with it, making the ripe, reddened penis jerk madly 
from side to side. She rubbed it meaningfully against his thighs-first one, 
then the other-turning the sharply pointed head so that it pressed painfully 
downwards and was tickled by the dark hairs on his upper leg. 

Next, she manipulated the whitened skin covering the thick, hardened phallus 
... sliding it up and down its entire length until small mewling moans 
escaped from his lips. Then, she traced her finger across the very tip of 
his cock: at the same time turning it rapidly in a tight twirling movement. 

She felt Caine shudder with pleasure at this exquisite torment. Carefully, 
she repeated the caress; now keeping the tip of her finger softly on the 
tiny opening in the head and working it teasingly over and over the tender 
spot. 

She showed no sign of stopping and Caine was being driven almost insane by 
this sweetly agonizing petting. Then he could feel Samantha's other hand 
moving down to encircle the lower half of his aching penis loosely between 
her fingers. 

They lazily wrapped around his raging tool, forming an "O" around the thick 
stem and teasing him excruciatingly as they brushed the tingling hairs on 
his testicles. 

Almost unknowingly, Caine slipped a middle finger gently between the wet, 
waiting lips of Samantha's cunt and let it sink to the palm of his hand. The 
hot, clinging moistness of her throbbing flesh stuck urgently around his 
finger; she felt so tight, so very tight! Experimentally, he twisted the 
finger slightly. The soft inner flesh yielded immediately to his gentle 
thrust-letting him move about in any direction he chose. 

His thumb, which had been resting on the edge of the hard bone above 
Samantha's cuntal opening, now moved a half-inch downward. It slipped into 
the open lips, found her distended clitoris and teasingly began to fondle 
it. 

At once, Samantha's cunt grew wetter and he realized that he had started a 
preliminary flow of love-juice. The fluid bathed his fingers in sticky 
warmth, helplessly seeping from her trembling body. 

Caine held his finger steady, waiting until Samantha had spent herself ... 
When he judged that she was over her first tiny orgasm, he allowed her 
breast to escape the tight hold of his teeth. The fiercely sucked globe now 
had a circular welt running around it, making a second aureole where Caine's 
teeth had gripped her. Samantha's breast bobbed and swayed as he released it 
the nipple incredibly large and swollen. 

She opened her eyes, heavy-lidded with passion, ... her fingers still 
playing tormentingly with his prick. 

"Fuck me!" she urged him hoarsely. "Oh, darling, fuck me, fuck me now! 
Please!" 

Caine slowly, tenderly, pulled his finger out of her cunt. But before moving 
it completely away, he let it stray deliciously up over the girl's clitoris, 
giving the now erected organ a final caress. 

Then he rolled his body on top of hers, maneuvering his hands below 
Samantha's buttocks and grabbing the firm, well rounded cheeks tightly. She 
steered his cock to the lips of her cunt, cursed as it slipped from her 
fingers-then gave a heaving sigh of relief and pleasure as Caine's prick 
sank deliriously down inside her, cramming its extraordinary length up the 
tight, liquid passageway to its fullest depth. She shuddered slightly as it 
hit bottom and his balls pressed tight in the wide-spread crevice of her 
buttocks, brushing teasingly against the sensitive lips of her anus. 

She brought her hands free and he felt her fingers on his back, moving 
urgently up and down, nails digging frantically into the base of his spine. 
As his penis began its fierce, thrusting drive in and out of Samantha's 
cunt, Caine opened wide the cheeks of her buttocks and inserted the tip of 
his forefinger almost cruelly into the tight, tiny opening of her rectum. 

She flinched and her haunches stiffened momentarily. But as his finger 
wormed insistently past the first tightness, the girl relaxed and bravely 
kept her buttocks supple and loose. 

The sleek shanks lifted as Samantha arched her body to make him penetrate 
her more deeply. Caine could feel the silky rustling of her stockings as she 
opened her thighs wide and wound her legs around him-and he thrust himself 
forward and into her hot, willing pussy with renewed lust. 

Samantha fastened her teeth on his ear-lobe and alternately chewed it and 
darted her tongue deeply into the tiny, sensitive crevice. Caine's prick 
seemed to be spurring the girl on to previously unattempted love-play: she 
squirmed like a bitch in heat, lunging her crotch upwards with as much force 
as she could muster. 

Her fingers again found the tightness of his asshole, played briefly around 
the small raised circle, then impertinently thrust the sharp-taloned 
forefinger once more into his still-aching orifice-in and out as if she were 
vicariously playing with herself. 

Together, the man and the girl thrust at each other's anus and fucked with 
ever demanding, powerful strokes on the bed. Once-and once only-their eyes 
met hazily and exchanged a brief look of mutual understanding. Then they 
glanced away again, moving into their private worlds of sexual reverie. 

Much too quickly, Caine felt his orgasm welling up. He tried desperately to 
hold the imminent flood back, but Samantha was goading into a state of 
terrible, overpowering ecstasy and her loins meshed so frantically against 
his that to delay the impending outpouring for more than a few moments would 
be completely impossible. 

His eyes glazed over helplessly, his entire body thirsting for the release 
that only a violent, exploding climax could bring him. 

Then, with a roar of mingled rage and passion, he gave himself up to the 
cosmic forces which flooded through his entire being. He thundered his 
boiling sperm with every atom of his strength into Samantha's hot, squirming 
cunt: sending his boiling semen in a mighty, single torrent gushing headlong 
up the deep, tight passage of her wildly contracting pussy. 

She came at almost the same instant-locking her body to his and making them 
one creature, a two-backed beast of fiery, flooding lust ... straining 
herself in every muscle, every nerve, to throb out her orgasm in rhythm with 
his hot, desperate flooding of her belly ... 

* * * 

Caine had slowed, driving the Aston Martin automatically, his mind reliving 
in painful detail that final night with Samantha. He shook his head, trying 
to clear his thoughts, bring them back to the present. 

But the too-recent memory of the recriminations and abuse that had followed 
their last experience in bed haunted him persistently. There was no way in 
which he could understand what triggered it off. Probably Samantha herself 
didn't know. Perhaps it was simply a slow culmination of small, trivial 
details. Anyway, the actual cause wasn't important. 

What mattered, ultimately, was the fact that she had rejected him, had seen 
through his inadequately assumed role of attentive lover and ordered him out 
of her life. Would the pattern be repeated? That was the question that 
worried Caine intensely. 

Could it be that he was totally incapable of giving and receiving love? That 
he used people-seeing in them nothing more than extensions of his own 
desires? 

He slowed the car as he entered the worm-like overpasses of the freeway 
entrance to San Francisco. After leaving Samantha's, he had gone to one of 
the small hotels in Carmel and spent the night ... not leaving until about 
nine this morning. Mona would probably be waiting for him with that sad, 
pleading expression on her face; but he knew she would never voice the fears 
it concealed. 

That just wasn't done! Not with her breeding. Hardly the right thing to do, 
to bring delicate matters like that out into the open, is it? Simply not 
proper! 

Just what he was trying to do to her, Caine refused to contemplate. Possibly 
to drive her away, though he knew she would never take the initiative and 
leave him. Not for the first time, he felt himself caught inextricably in a 
web of uncertainty; a maze of confusing and conflicting desires seemed to 
envelop him, leaving him empty and unable to make decisions. 

Even in this mood of self-retribution, Caine was aware of the same 
idealistic wish that had coursed through him for so long now: the fierce 
longing to break away from the existence in which he was trapped-to snap the 
chains of normality-to do all the things he had yearned for as a young man. 
Burst out of this safe, predictable shell and live-live for the first time 
in his life! He had to! He couldn't bear the thought of another thirty or 
forty years of sheltered existence-knowing that every coming day and year 
would be just like the last ... growing to an old man dreaming of all the 
things he should have done ... 

Caine turned up the street leading to his home. The rows of neat, 
semi-detached houses stretching in every direction. It was an expensive 
neighborhood and although most of the homes had been designed to the 
personal architectural desires of each owner, somehow they had all achieved 
a certain sameness. The trees planted at regular intervals, colors that 
didn't clash with each other-the shingled and cedar-shacked roofs that were 
supposed to be unique; they slanted and pointed in different directions and 
all ended up looking alike. 

Caine paused for a moment after locking his car and stood on the cobbled 
pavement looking down the hill. From there he could see not only most of the 
city, but the Bay and both of the great bridges stretching to the other 
side. 

Everything was so peaceful, so well-planned, he thought. And it became so 
easy to allow yourself to become just another part of the landscape-the 
humanscape-to abandon the impossible dreams that haunted you and grow as 
unchanging and orderly as your environment. 

That was what happened to nearly everyone. The temptation to settle down in 
a comfortable rut was very strong. It absolved you from doing anything but 
insuring that your routine was not interrupted. All you had to do was be 
competent at your work, polite to your neighbors, disguise your real 
feelings, attend the local functions-and lose your identity in a regular 
ritual that would slowly anesthetize your dreams. 

There was still a chance for him to escape, he told himself. He vowed he 
would learn to break away completely from his present life. It might take 
time, but he would do it. It wasn't too late to do it-perhaps in another 
country ... at a later time. ... 

The craving in him for excitement and newness was too acute now to ever be 
suppressed again. Somehow, he would find the way and the determination, to 
free himself of the shackles he'd known all his life. 

Meanwhile, there was Mona-waiting in the house for him, her recriminations 
unspoken but slowly widening the gap between them. Another hour or two of 
silent reproach ... followed by his usual, half-hearted attempts to treat 
her sympathetically and kindly. Followed in turn by a quick, equally 
unrewarding session of lovemaking. 

The knowledge that he would again repeat this stupid, meaningless ritual 
made him angry: both with himself and with Mona for not seeing through it. 

 CHAPTER 4 

Caine took his coat off and threw it untidily onto the chair in the hall. As 
he moved into the kitchen he was struck again by the unusual silence. Mona 
and their young Swedish visitor should have been up hours earlier and he 
knew that at least one of them was at home because the station wagon was 
still in the garage. 

He frowned as he thought of Jacqueline. Though the young girl had only been 
there a few weeks her presence was very disturbing to him. At first he had 
thought there must have been something about her that irritated him, some 
personal trait that he couldn't put his finger on. Then he realized the real 
reason for his discomfort; she was so beautiful, a lovely golden creature so 
close to him ... and she was scarcely older than his own daughter! He tried 
to avoid her, to avoid seeming to her or to himself like a pawing, lecherous 
middle-aged man. Though the house was fairly large, it wasn't big enough to 
separate them and several times a day he found himself face to face with 
her. He tried to affect a kind, fatherly image-but there were moments when 
he was sure she saw through his pretense. The way she'd glance at him out of 
the corner of her eye, with a strange little look on her face. Caine 
wondered if there was any chance she had seen him that one morning as he'd 
passed by her bedroom. He'd been on his way to take a shower when he'd felt 
the cooling breeze from her door which was slightly ajar. He had leaned to 
close the door when he saw her on the far side of the room ... standing with 
her back to him and looking out over the bay. The draught came from the 
sliding glass doors that she'd opened. Caine could feel the goose-pimples 
from the cold air, the same tingling bumps she must have felt because, as he 
stood there, she dropped her nightgown from her shoulders and stretched, 
shivering slightly ... 

She had the sleek, curved body of a golden feline animal ... long and 
incredibly sensual-with her muscles tensed against the chilling air, Caine 
could see her buttocks quiver with a life of their own ... his manhood 
stirred and rose as he studied the loveliness of the lithe, gracefully 
chiseled form before him. I might not have been able to control myself and 
walked right in, he thought, if at that moment she hadn't started to turn 
back into the room. Jolted out of his sexual reverie, Caine had jumped out 
of the way and shakily walked down to the bathroom. The awareness of what 
might have happened if either Mona or Anne, their daughter, had seen him 
caused him to go limp again, but still the memory of what he had experienced 
that morning flickered across his mind each time he saw Jacqueline and her 
curious glances in return made him strangely uneasy. 

Now, as he turned back into the hall, he stopped suddenly as a faint giggle 
reached his ears. It seemed to come from upstairs ... 

He listened intently. There it was again! He paused at the foot of the 
stairs, one hand on the banister. 

A girl's voice, protesting half-heartedly, the words broken up with excited 
laughter. Caine recognized it as Jacqueline's, heard the trace of her 
Swedish accent in the muffled, indistinct phrase. 

He started up the stairs, deliberately making as little noise as possible. 
There was something that struck him as being rather odd about the cry, 
something intriguing ... 

He turned the bend at the top of the stairs and saw that Mona's bedroom door 
was open slightly. A rustling sound came from within the room and the faint 
whisper of girls' voices. Caine, impelled by some mysterious instinct, moved 
to the wall which ran alongside the door. He flattened himself against it, 
feeling at once guilty and excited by the prospect of spying on his wife and 
their young guest. 

Through the crack in the door he could see scarcely nothing: a vague 
blurring of outlines that merely increased his curiosity without satisfying 
it. Caine put his face up to it and fastened his eye close to the 
long-hinged opening, using it as a peephole. 

He was now able to see quite distinctly into the room and he blinked 
rapidly, unable to believe that his eye wasn't deceiving him! 

Mona and Jacqueline were standing in front of the dressing table mirror, 
wearing only their panties and stockings. Mona stood behind the young, 
voluptuous girl, running her hands slowly up and down the backs of her 
thighs and crouching slightly so that her fingers were able to reach the 
tautly fastened stocking tops. 

Jacqueline's legs were astride, her own hands planted firmly on her hips; 
she stared appreciatively into the big mirror, her head on one side, her 
breasts thrust out provocatively. 

Mona's breasts were pushing intimately into the white flesh of Jacqueline's 
back-the nipples rubbing into the girl's skin just above the middle of her 
back. They were both giggling conspiratorially and as Caine watched, his 
mouth opening in sheer wonderment, Mona slipped her fingers up the 
smoothness of Jacqueline's thighs and ran them boldly over the girl's 
bottom. She raised the panties delicately, drawing them into the crease of 
her buttocks and exposing the firm plump cheeks more completely. 

Spellbound, Caine stared at the sensualness of the scene, his throat 
suddenly dry. Unconsciously, he passed his tongue slowly over his parched 
lips. This wasn't really happening, he thought wildly. It could not be! Mona 
wasn't like that ... 

But the evidence before him clearly indicated that the girls were engaged in 
something rather more intimate than a mere feminine admiration of their 
bodies. Having made Jacqueline's panties practically disappear into the 
girl's ripe divide, Mona was now pinching the bare globes between her 
forefingers and thumbs, holding a generous portion of the white flesh and 
jiggling it; making the rest of the cheeks wobble sensuously. 

Again, he heard Jacqueline's half-hearted protest: "Mona-don't! Oh, darling, 
what do you think you're doing? Please!" 

Even if he had been unable to see her face (and the mirror clearly reflected 
Jacqueline's expression) Caine could tell from the tone of her voice that 
the girl didn't object in the slightest to Mona's pinching. She had formed 
her mouth into a pert pouting-and at the same time wiggling her buttocks 
slightly and making no attempt to free her bottom from the woman's fingers. 

Mona now went down behind Jacqueline, dropping onto her knees and staring at 
the girl's buttocks at a distance of no more than a few inches. Her hands 
remained on the cheeks, continuing their not too-rough nipping of the 
curving flesh. 

"There now!" she whispered softly. "Did I hurt your pretty little behind, 
darling? Here-let me kiss it and make it better!" 

And Caine's wife pursed her lips, brought them into contact with 
Jacqueline's buttocks and began to plant wet, noisy little kisses on the 
jutting hemispheres. Far from resenting this greater intimacy with her body, 
Jacqueline thrust the soft, white cheeks backwards, silently encouraging 
Mona to continue. 

She also took the waistband of her panties in the ringers of both hands and 
drew it up firmly, making the creamy white briefs stretch even more tightly 
into her crotch. 

Mona put her arms around Jacqueline's thighs, her hands slipping beneath the 
long white elastic of the girl's garter fastenings so that the bands formed 
two securing straps on the back of her wrists. She held Jacqueline tightly, 
caressing her shapely thighs and kissing again and again on her smooth, 
rounded buttocks. 

The audible smacks of her lips on Jacqueline's flesh reached Caine's ears 
clearly. He was more amazed than shocked by the sudden and unexpected 
revelation that Mona could so such things to another girl; his surprise 
outweighed any sense of outrage which he might have felt if the news had 
been broken to him less dramatically. 

His eye was beginning to burn-a draught from the open window inside the room 
causing him to blink away the moisture which was obscuring his vision. And 
as he pressed it once more against the crack, he inadvertently leaned 
forward ... 

The door creaked open and he drew back from it immediately-a tic starting at 
the comer of his mouth. The girls gave a sudden gasp and he heard them 
moving in the room. 

Caine almost panicked, nearly ran as quickly as possible back down the 
stairs in terrible confusion. Then he reminded himself that he had done 
absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of. It was his wife and Jacqueline-they 
were the ones to blush and hide themselves. He stepped forward again, pushed 
the door wide open and walked into the bedroom. 

"Caine," Mona was coming towards him almost before he had entered the room. 
He looked beyond her to Jacqueline. The girl had snatched up a dressing gown 
and was still trying to pull it on-her arms twisting behind her back and 
forcing her naked breasts to thrust themselves out. He saw that the nipples 
were stiff and red and wondered if Mona had held them and rubbed them. 

"Darling, I didn't hear you come in!" She was smiling at him, making not the 
slightest attempt to cover her practically nude body. 

"Jacqueline and I were just seeing if we take the same sizes in underwear. 
She's running a bit low and since I've got so many bras and pants that I 
haven't even worn yet, I thought I could let her have some ... " 

Caine stared at her, disbelief written all over his face. Mona appeared 
either not to notice, or to ignore the look of incredulity in her husband's 
eyes. Calmly she went on: 

"Isn't it lucky? Although our breasts are different sizes, my pants and 
stockings seem to fit her perfectly. Don't they, Jackie?" She turned, 
looking over her shoulder at the young girl. 

"Y-yes, Mrs. Ashley," Jacqueline stammered. She had finally managed to draw 
the robe around her and was now twisting her fingers nervously. 

"Come here, dear. There's no need to be shy. Caine's seen a naked girl 
before, you know. Anyway, you're not much older than our own daughter, is 
she Caine?" 

He still hadn't found his voice. He kept staring at Mona, unable to 
recognize in this poised, sexy woman his mousy, quietly-shy wife. Caine 
could only stand there in front of her, his mouth comically open in 
amazement, watching as Jacqueline came slowly across the room to stand 
obediently next to the confident, unabashed woman whom he could scarcely 
believe had changed so quickly. 

"Show Caine how well they fit you, darling!" Mona was saying. "Come along, 
you don't have to be coy and bashful! I'd like Caine to see how similar our 
figures are, despite the difference in our ages!" 

When the girl looked uncertainly from her to Caine and back again, Mona 
reached for the cord which held her robe together. 

"Oh, really, Jackie!" she exclaimed with a smile. "How on earth did all 
those stories about sexy Swedish girls start if they're all as shy as you!" 
Her fingers swiftly plucked the knot undone and Jacqueline's dressing gown 
fell open, uncovering the girl's skimpy briefs and blatantly sexy garters 
and stockings. 

It opened sufficiently to expose half of her breasts, but the edges remained 
in place across Jacqueline's nipples, keeping them hidden from Caine's 
involuntary appraisal. 

He ran his eyes instinctively over the girl's semi-nude body, feeling as if 
he had suddenly been plunged into an erotic daydream. But the fantasy was 
three-dimensional and he could also smell the sweet, arousing perfume which 
both his wife and Jacqueline were wearing. 

Caine was abruptly aware that his life had switched into another gear: what 
was happening now was so utterly, so fantastically out of the ordinary that 
it was something like moving into a new and totally alien existence. As if 
(He remembered a half-forgotten science fiction story) as if parallel worlds 
did exist and he had suddenly been transported from one in which a mediocre, 
bored, humdrum Caine Ashley lived, into a dimension where the same man, with 
the same wife and day-to-day routine, was subtly different in one major 
respect: he was free! Free from all sexual prudery and inhibition! 

Mona tutted impatiently at Jacqueline. "Really, darling," she protested 
crossly. "Why don't you slip the robe off altogether? Look at me-I'm wearing 
less than you are and I'm not embarrassed, am I?" 

She gave Caine a brief self-poised smile which seemed to bring him more into 
the game of getting Jacqueline to strip off her gown. If, Caine reflected, 
if it was really only a game ... 

His wife moved behind Jacqueline and put her hands down over the girl's 
shoulders. She took the lapels of her robe and slowly helped Jacqueline's 
arms out of the sleeves, peeling it gently away from the nipples-which 
Jacqueline quickly covered with her hands as the ruby-tipped buds came 
suddenly into view. 

Mona let the robe drop to the floor. Keeping her arms on Jacqueline's 
shoulders, she said: "What do you think darling? Don't my panties fit her 
perfectly?" 

She turned Jacqueline around until the girl faced her. "Look at the back 
view, darling! You'd never know they hadn't been bought especially for her, 
would you?" 

Caine could feel his penis stiffening as he stared at Jacqueline's bottom. 
The white silk of the panties was still drawn up tight into the divide of 
her buttocks-leaving the cheeks themselves completely exposed. They had two 
tiny little dimples on the far side of each globe where Jacqueline had 
tightened the muscles. He longed suddenly to lick them, to put his own 
tongue where Mona's lips had been ... 

Mona followed his eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "They're not really supposed to 
look like that! We were just fooling about-" At last, his wife had the grace 
to blush slightly. Her eyes twinkled, though and Caine's cock thickened and 
bulged noticeably out of his trousers as Mona stretched her hands languidly 
down Jacqueline's bare back and primly pulled the panties back into a more 
respectable position. 

Caine finally found his voice. "I thought they looked better before you 
adjusted them, Mona," he heard himself saying. And it was as if the words 
had come from a source other than his own mouth. They sounded deeper and 
more breathy than his normal tone and Caine realized that his desire was 
mounting rapidly. 

The close proximity of the two girls was driving him crazy. Jacqueline's 
body was obviously pushed so tightly against Mona's that their breasts must 
be touching! And their stomachs ... certainly their bellies were pressing 
together. And what about their panties? Yes! Definitely, the triangular 
mounds would be moving and perhaps even pulsing, next to one another ... 

Caine cleared his throat. He slipped a hand into his trouser pocket and gave 
his penis a surreptitious squeeze. It strained urgently against his fingers, 
warning him that he couldn't stand very much more of this sexual by-play 
without taking an active part in it. 

Mona now moved around behind Jacqueline and gave the girl's bottom a 
critical look. "Mmmmm" she said at last. "Perhaps you're right!" 

Her fingers again adjusted the tightly clinging material of Jacqueline's 
panties, hoisting them firmly into the crevice of the girl's ass and letting 
her fingers rub sensuously across the firm white orbs before leaving them. 

"Does that feel too tight, though?" she asked the young Swedish girl. She 
saw Jacqueline's head shake, no. Her hands still covered her breasts though 
her back was turned towards Caine. 

In a small, husky voice she whispered: "No, I like them better that way, 
Mona." She began to turn around of her own accord. "What about the front, 
though? Isn't it fashionable to wear your panties as small as possible now?" 
Her lilting Swedish accent was driving Caine insane. "Could you tuck them up 
for me, Mona darling?" 

Jacqueline's face was flushed, her eyelashes fluttering nervously. But she 
obediently allowed Mona to stoop down in front of her and persuade her 
thighs open with a gentle pressure from her fingers. 

Caine's wife fitted her hands shamelessly under the white silk, keeping her 
own body out of the way so that her husband could have an uninterrupted view 
of Jacqueline's thinly-covered loins ... and could also see clearly what she 
was about to do with it. 

First, Mona took the V of the briefs in her fingers and tugged it gently 
upwards. This action caused the seat of the panties to sink sexily in 
between the lips of Jacqueline's vagina-at the same time making a bulge that 
stood out on either side of the material. 

This was provocative enough; but Mona now commenced to tuck the garment 
boldly up, doubling the already abbreviated panties so that they finally 
looked like nothing more than a stripteaser's G-string. 

Mona moved her head back to admire her handiwork from a distance. "There!" 
she said, "I think that looks very nice, indeed! What's your opinion, 
Caine?" 

He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. Jacqueline was the picture 
of demure, artfully disarrayed sensualness. The girl's well-shaped legs, 
small waist and flared hips, together with her now daringly minute panties, 
gave her the appearance of a strikingly experienced, yet somehow innocent 
child. Probably it was the attitude of her hands, still clasping her young 
breasts tightly, which contributed to the innocence of her other qualities. 

Again, Caine could see what a voluptuous and beautiful young creature she 
was! Standing before them, blushing shyly, Jacqueline aroused a sharp desire 
that ached for satisfaction. 

He didn't even begin to question Mona's motives in arranging this display of 
their charms. For the moment all Caine could think of was the sheer delight 
of their combined bodies. His mind sought frantically to somehow prolong the 
erotic situation. 

"Your pants look very odd beside Jacqueline's," he said with sudden 
inspiration. "They're so large, so old-fashioned, Mona. Why don't you wear 
them as brief as Jacqueline's, darling? Go on-pull them up! Let me see if 
you can get the same effect." 

Mona smiled. "I've got a better idea," she told him. "Jacqueline, would you 
like to adjust my panties for me?" her eyes met the young girl's and Caine 
was sure he detected a familiar, secret intimacy flash between his wife and 
Jacqueline. 

Then, as Jacqueline began to kneel down in front of Mona, finally removing 
her hands and letting him see her breasts, he dismissed them as though 
nothing more than idle fancy. 

He took off his tie and threw it on the bed, settling himself into an easy 
chair and loosening his shirt collar-ready to savor every moment of the 
girls' delicious fashion parade. 

Jacqueline imitated Mona's arrangement of her panties, carefully pulling the 
flimsy material into a taut and rucked-up strip of silk over the woman's 
crotch. Mona posed for her husband, placing her feet firmly astride and 
letting her hips sway in a tantalizing undulation. Her soft inviting pubic 
mound was almost visible-the now cord-like pants merely drawing attention to 
the thick lips on either side of her vaginal slit. 

"Much better!" Caine commented, his mouth dry from excitement. "What about 
your bottom, though? Shouldn't they be pushed up in back as well?" 

Mona put her finger to her lips in mock-reprimand. "Of course they should!" 
she exclaimed. "How stupid of me! Jacqueline, darling-would you mind ...?" 

She turned slowly around to present them with her back view. Jacqueline 
began to tug the black, glossy briefs firmly up into the crease-but Mona 
stopped her. 

"Here, let me make it easier for you to judge the appearance," she said. And 
deliberately bent down, practically touching her toes. The ripe spheres of 
her full, firm buttocks tensed sensuously at Caine and Jacqueline, ample 
white globes that were already overflowing their scanty briefs. 

Caine could hear Jacqueline's heavy breathing as she took the hem between 
her fingers and drew it slowly away from Mona's cheeks and pushed it 
securely between the division of the woman's buttocks. 

When the girl straightened and moved away, Mona remained in her bent-over 
position. The thin line of her silken panties was now all but hidden by the 
lips of her vagina. They stuck with a breathtaking obviousness over the taut 
material-the whole of Mona's vagina and rear completely visible to the 
watching man and the girl. 

Mona wriggled her buttocks from side to side, showing off her sex to them 
without the slightest hint of embarrassment. Caine finally got up from the 
chair and walked the few paces that brought him close to his bending wife. 

He put his hand on the back of her thigh, slowly bringing it upwards in a 
caressing movement until his fingers roved over the warm surface between her 
legs. They fondled leisurely at the soft cheek, then drew it carefully 
aside, displaying Mona's almost naked cunt more fully. 

Caine let out a soft, whistling sigh. "I don't think I've ever seen you 
looking more provocative, darling." 

He kept his hand on her buttocks, making the bare cheek wobble gently under 
the pressure of his fingers. Mona stayed in her slave-like position, arms 
hanging limply towards the floor. Her husband passed his other hand beneath 
her and idly fondled one of her breasts. 

The hard-nippled orb rested sweetly under his loosely caressing fingers and 
the man began to swing it slowly from side to side-feeling the heavy globe 
of white flesh move pendulously in whichever position he commanded ... 

Huskily, her voice unable to conceal her naked sexual longing, Mona 
murmured: "Should I admit something to you, darling? About Jackie and 
myself?" 

He tensed and a pulsing excitement raced through his body. It was as if he 
had passed his finger quickly over a live wire; the shock was not so much an 
electrical jolt as a sharp stab of fear or pleasure. Part pleasure, part 
nervous tension. 

Caine tried to keep his voice calm and casual. "Yes, tell me, Mona. What 
about Jacqueline and you? What have you been up to?" He continued to rub her 
buttocks and caress her breast. 

"You promise not to be angry?" She felt so incredibly soft and feminine ... 

"How can I tell? I don't know yet what you've done, do I?" Her nipple was so 
hard, so terribly hot ... 

"We weren't just trying on panties and stockings, Caine. We went further 
than that." 

"Yes?" 

"We touched each other; felt each other ... the way you're feeling me now!" 

"I see ..." What would it be like to watch the two of them fondling and 
caressing? Holding each other in the most lascivious embraces he could 
devise? 

"You're not angry? You won't be too cross with me, darling?" 

"No, I won't be cross ... " He could scarcely force the words out, his mouth 
felt so dry. 

"I promise not to do it again, Caine." She was so meek, so maddenly coy! Her 
fine, supple legs, feet well astride, stockings sticking so tightly to her 
thighs ... how could he be angry with her? 

Caine realized suddenly that Jacqueline was only a few feet away. The girl 
had melted into the background during their exchange and was standing near 
the bed, her fingers interlaced across her displaced panties. 

In a voice that he could still not quite recognize as his, Caine said: "Come 
here and show me what you did, Jacqueline. Let me see how you touched each 
other-I promise not to be angry with you-with either of you!" 

He gave his wife's nipple a final tweak, then released it. Her breast shook 
in a shivery, wobbling movement and Caine moved away. 

Mona straightened herself, breathing heavily. As she faced them, she tugged 
her panties up-seeming to be unaware that this extra leverage had caused 
them to slip away from her cunt; leaving the jeweled lips totally uncovered. 
The scant panties were gathered up at the sides of the woman's crotch, 
serving no useful purpose whatsoever. 

She held out her arms to Jacqueline. "We'd better do what he says, darling," 
she whispered. "If we don't, my husband will be terribly angry with us!" 

Jacqueline moved hesitantly into Mona's embrace, her pretty, youthful face 
flushed, her body visibly trembling. 

Caine sat in the chair again, crossing his legs so that the quickening 
erection of his throbbing penis wouldn't be quite so obvious. Mona planned 
all this! he thought. She deliberately engineered the whole thing! But 
explanations would have to wait. He knew that it was simply impossible for 
him to act like an outraged husband. She had aroused him far too intensely 
and he would have to see it through. 

For the moment, he could think of nothing but the sight of his sweet, demure 
wife and Jacqueline drawn into a warm and intimate embrace, their exciting 
near-naked bodies pressing together as their arms went about each other's 
waists. 

His eyes felt heavy, his pulse began to race ... they were actually kissing! 
Their lips had met in a lewd, lesbian mingling-pushing harder and harder 
together until he could see their tongues meeting in a wanton, perverse 
tasting!!!! 

Every part of their bodies were touching! Mona's large, ripe breasts joined 
with Jacqueline's more youthful, smaller ones-and rubbed with growing 
passion against the exciting young girl's hard, erectile nipples. Their hips 
writhed lustfully, pubic mounds pressed together, silk-clad thighs made a 
steady, static rustling as they began to move in a rhythmical swaying dance 
... with their feet motionless on the floor. 

Caine saw clearly enough that they were deliberately putting on a 
"performance" for his benefit. They had themselves under control, carefully 
slowing down their love-play so that he could savor every caress, every 
movement of their sensuously writhing bodies. 

But, far from detracting from his pleasure, this deliberation excited him 
even more. He watched intently as Mona's hands stole down Jacqueline's back, 
feeling beneath the girl's panties and moving around the upper slopes of her 
swaying buttocks. 

This movement of her hands caused the waistband of Jacqueline's panties to 
ride down a little, revealing the tiny, puckered anus between the ivory 
cheeks in all its naked splendor. Mona dipped her knees 
slightly-Jacqueline's mouth bearing down on hers-so that she was able to 
pull the bikini pants down over her gorgeously shaped buttocks and show her 
husband the young girl's behind in all its true natural nudity. 

To encourage his admiration she caressed the soft, fleshy globes for him; 
running the fingers of both hands slowly and tenderly down the fleshy 
slopes-lifting the cheeks and holding them apart for a brief, tantalizing 
look at her vaginal opening, then pressing them tightly together again. 

She did this again, seeming to derive as much enjoyment from her 
manipulation of Jacqueline's behind as Caine. Again and again she forcibly 
pried open the girl's secret treasure, offering its deep, hidden orifices 
for Caine's inspection. 

Then, the girl's moving with an almost balletic grace, they turned slowly 
around until it was Mona's backside that confronted Caine. 

She was receiving the same treatment from Jacqueline's hands-or rather, a 
similar treatment, since the girl was giving Mona an even more intimate 
caress. Her ringers had also worked the woman's panties down off her 
buttocks, but instead of contenting themselves with a loving massage of the 
cheeks, Jacqueline was rubbing them in a slow teasing motion, fondling up 
and down inside the crease itself! 

Mona's body was still bent at the knees and from his enviable vantage point 
Caine could see with absolute clarity the tiny orifice of his wife's anus as 
it was continuously stroked by Jacqueline's long, slender fingers. 

He breathed more heavily than ever, forced now to uncross his legs and rest 
his hand on the angrily swelling rod of his penis to ease its sudden pulsing 
hunger. 

Mona and Jacqueline were still kissing; so far their lips had not broken 
away and showed no signs of parting. Their faces were working passionately, 
mouths thrust urgently together and Caine could see their tongues busily 
exploring, slipping alternately into each other's mouth and kissing wetly 
with complete disregard for his presence in the room. 

When they at last brought their lips away the tense atmosphere was broken by 
the sound of their deep gasping for air. Their chins rested on one another's 
shoulders, their eyes closed tightly. Mona, after a moment's pause to catch 
her breath, began to run her wet lips over the soft cream-like skin of 
Jacqueline's upper arm-sliding her mouth along the girl's shoulder and 
bending her head so as to reach its smooth silken slenderness. 

Her long black hair fell softly across both their breasts, concealing their 
sensuous contact from Caine's vision. But only for a few seconds. 

Jacqueline released Mona's buttocks, freeing one hand so that it could slide 
up between their bodies and brush the thick tresses away. Her fingers closed 
over the very tip of Mona's breast-the one nearest to Caine-and his penis 
gave another spasmodic jerk as the girl began to gently manipulate his 
wife's nipple ... 

Not satisfied with merely teasing it into greater hardness, Jacqueline 
steered it carefully until it rubbed a rousingly against her own nipple, 
then she took both between her forefinger and thumb and rolled them 
enticingly together. 

Mona sucked for several minutes at Jacqueline's arm, then removed her mouth 
and stared lustfully at the red welt she had raised on the girl's golden 
skin. She turned her eyes slowly until they met her husband's. 

"She's beautiful, isn't she, darling?" Mona whispered. "Her skin tastes so 
sweet, so very sweet! Shall I take her to the bed and show you what we did 
to each other this afternoon? Shall I?" 

Caine nodded quickly, his cock now so rigid within the confines of his 
trousers that he was forced to stand up and unzip them. Neither girl paid 
any attention to him as they moved, arms tightly about each other's waists, 
to the bed. He took them off completely, then slid his underpants 
down-feeling enormous relief as his penis at last snapped free of the 
restricting enclosure. 

The curtains at the windows were already drawn and as the room darkened with 
the approach of twilight, Mona reached out and switched a lamp on. Its 
flowery pink shade filtered the light into a gentle, opaque glow that bathed 
the girl's bodies in a becoming, rather mysterious shade of pale crimson. 

Caine stripped off his shirt. He felt his body shiver, knowing that the 
tremor was due to acute sexual excitement rather than the slight chill in 
the room. He moved to the foot of the bed and sat down, facing toward the 
girls-who were already locked in another embrace, lying sideways to face 
each other and once more straining their soft bodies together ... 

Mona stroked her hand down Jacqueline's hip and firmly, insistently pushed 
the girl's thighs open. She made Jacqueline lie with her legs 
splayed--quickly tugging the flimsy, pathetically inadequate panties all the 
way down over her stockings; leaning forward for a moment to drag them over 
her ankles, then resuming her position next to Jacqueline's slightly 
squirming body. 

Her right hand again alighted on the girl's outspread thigh, caressing with 
her parted fingers the satin-smooth inside of Jacqueline's leg. She gave the 
girl a tender, sweetly extended massage-occasionally permitting her hand to 
stray further upwards and brush tantalizingly against the curled mound of 
sparse, blonde pubic hair nestling between her thighs. 

Jacqueline would shyly attempt to squeeze her thighs together to ward off 
the dangerously intrusive fingers and each time, Mona would patiently push 
them apart again-giving the girl a soft kiss on her mouth and reassuring her 
with her eyes that she had nothing to fear. 

Finally after many preliminary probings, Mona allowed her fingers to finally 
descend down on the soft, innocent lips and tickle them open. 

She slipped her fingertips gently into Jacqueline's open vagina and brushed 
them gently along the moist mouth, playing the girl as if she were a 
delicate instrument. The first joint of each finger curled over, working 
just inside the warm, moist opening and very slowly insinuating the inner 
lips apart. 

While Mona toyed in this manner with her cunt, Jacqueline placed her own 
hands on the older woman's buttocks. The girl kneaded the rounded cheeks 
more brutally this time-pinching large, soft folds of flesh between her 
fingers, then slowly letting them escape: gradually covering Mona's buttocks 
with angry-looking red marks. 

Soon, however, she was sufficiently aroused by Mona's growing liberties with 
her cunt to venture a slim finger between the woman's thighs. 

Jacqueline lifted Mona's leg and traced her way across the very center of 
the exposed cunt. Mona lowered the outstretched limb across Jacqueline's 
hips, giving the Swedish girl every encouragement. 

Caine, now holding his inflamed penis tightly in his hand, saw Jacqueline's 
finger sink wetly into his wife's hungry, inflamed opening. It pushed 
succulently between the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt and disappeared from 
sight-buried completely within the moist, pulsing channel. 

She started to thrust it slowly in and out, using her remaining fingers to 
tickle wantonly at the hot, moist length of Mona's desperately throbbing 
vaginal slit. 

They kissed again-and Caine knew that this time they had genuinely forgotten 
that what they were doing to each other was being witnessed by a third 
party. Their passion was mounting visibly, their lust growing wild and 
anxious for release. Mona's free hand groped desperately for Jacqueline's 
breast ... found and squeezed the precious mound of flesh in agitated, 
furious fondling. 

Moaning deliriously, she grasped Mona's breast with a similar fury. Then, as 
if a starting pistol had been fired, the girls began a simultaneous fucking 
motion with their hips-driving their loins wildly harder and harder strokes 
onto the fingers that were penetrating their cunts. 

"Oh God, oh my darling!" Mona gasped Suddenly. "I'm starting to cum! I can't 
stop myself, darling ... I can't!" 

Jacqueline's fingers sped faster, pushing and thrusting into Mona's 
quivering vagina. She threw her head back, her mouth opening in a helpless, 
despairing cry: 

"Oh, so am I, darling! Oh, Mona, hurt me! Hurt me, my darling! Feel me 
cumming! ... Feel me cumming! ... Aaaaghhh!" 

Caine, a silent spectator to their sport, worked his fingers tightly up and 
down his aching penis. His wife and Jacqueline suddenly stopped their 
threshing and remained for perhaps thirty seconds with only their thighs 
quivering in a visible motion of passion 

Making a tremendous effort, he was barely able to hold himself back, to 
avoid cumming immediately as he watched the breathless orgasm of his wife 
and their young guest. He wanted to be in a completely excited state when 
his turn came-and Caine knew that as soon as they recovered their breath he 
was going to push his body between the two girls and fuck them until they 
begged him for mercy ... and even then he vowed he would show them none ... 

 CHAPTER 5 

Before her husband could move, Mona rolled herself free of Jacqueline's 
embrace and threw herself into his arms. 

"Darling!" she gasped. "Oh my darling! Let me explain why we did this ... " 
Her body, still wet from the heat of the young girl's lust, pressed hard 
against him, her glistening breasts like great twin cushions on his bare 
chest. 

"I wanted to ... " 

"It doesn't matter, Mona." Caine's voice was thick with emotion, his senses 
reeling, his prick a surging shaft of pure animal desire. Even without the 
intimate closeness of Mona's body he would have been unable to contain his 
lust. But with his wife's naked flesh rubbing against his own ... 

He locked his arms around her back and slowly fell forward on top of her, 
making her fall backward onto the bed beside Jacqueline. His legs pushed 
their way between his wife's thighs, forcing them open. 

The panties were still twisted up around her loins, gathered in a tight, 
disheveled bundle across her thighs. He reached his hand between their 
bodies and lifted them up-making room for his prick to thrust beneath the 
wet crotch band and began to slide its hot, dynamic length into her still 
throbbing cunt. 

"No ... ," Mona moaned. "Let me explain first, darling-let me tell you ... " 

But the not-to-be-denied head of his cock was already sinking relentlessly 
between the open moist lips of her pussy-driving thickly up into her belly 
and stretching the tight hole of her cunt elastically open. She could feel 
the hardened penis of her husband starting to pulsate frantically and 
involuntarily, she tried to draw back sharply as he ruthlessly thrust his 
swollen prick deep between her wide-spread legs. 

Mona clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails pressing painfully into the 
hard muscular flesh. Caine grew even more passionate as they broke his skin 
and then raked frenziedly down his back. And then, unable to control 
himself, rammed the remaining inches of his fiery hot cock deep down into 
her straining cunt-cramming her, thrusting deeply into her soft, resisting 
passage, until their pelvis's slammed hard together-their pubic hairs 
tangling in a hopeless mass of interlocking curls. 

His temple was throbbing, a hot and insatiable redness welling up in his 
eyes. He stretched his hands down to his wife's thighs again and tugged her 
panties up ... taking the waistband and drawing the elastic top ruthlessly 
higher and higher. 

She began to sob, arching her body up as if she couldn't get enough of his 
prick inside her. He quickly pulled the silky panties up over the cheeks of 
her ass, feeling the taut V-shaped front rubbing, scraping against the base 
of his prick: the tightly stretched pants feeling like a constant caress on 
the tender underside of his penis. 

He slipped his hands up the sides of Mona's body, glorying in the soft 
fleshiness of her skin. His elbows helped him prop his chest away from her 
breasts and Caine let his fingers descend onto them, slowly rolling them 
about on Mona's body, making them assume a variety of abstractly beautiful 
shapes. 

They were squashed tightly together, the pliable globes rubbing against each 
other in a breathtaking embrace; causing a deep and inviting valley to 
appear between them ... 

Then he relaxed the pressure and let them swing gently back into their 
normal position, keeping his hands softly on the erectile nipples. He next 
drew them as far away from each other as they would reach-holding them apart 
momentarily and then flattening them back again with his palms. 

Finally, in rhythm with his slow teasing fucking of her cunt, Caine 
imprisoned his wife's nipples between the thumbs and forefingers of both 
hands and pinched them cruelly upwards. 

This caused her breasts to distend, taking on a pear-like appearance. Caine 
jiggled the nipples, moving them up and down ... to the left and right, 
staring down, fascinated, as Mona's snowy peaks molded freely under his 
treatment. 

He was screwing her viciously now: his prick coursing in and out of her 
moist, palpitating cunt with hard, relentless strokes. The slit was made 
even tighter than usual by the harsh, constraining pressure of the legband 
of her panties; they prevented her thighs from opening too much and thus 
ensnared the lips of her cunt even tighter around Caine's driving cock. 

When he had first entered her, Caine had thought that he could only last a 
few moments before launching his climax. But now, becoming aware that the 
young Jacqueline was watching every movement, he found the stamina to 
restrain himself. 

It seemed banal, even childish, but he was determined to show this young 
Swedish girl that he was a man. He wanted Jacqueline to see that he was 
capable of giving Mona a far longer and far more intense, pleasuring than 
she had! 

A further inspiration occurred to him! 

Why not encourage Jacqueline to come closer and allow him to fondle her at 
the same time? 

Caine glanced at the girl. She lay on her side, facing them, her eyes bright 
and unblinking as she stared trance-like at their lewdly entwined bodies. 

He released one of Mona's breasts and reached out a hand to Jacqueline. She 
hesitantly moved nearer. She trembled as Caine's fingers came to rest on her 
hip, but offered no resistance to him when he started to stroke her and urge 
her body closer to them. 

Within a few moments Jacqueline's buttocks were within easy reach of his 
hand. He let it slip around the girl's waist and forcing her to look into 
his eyes, he rubbed his fingers down into the deep crease between her 
buttocks ... down the steep slopes of the firm golden skin. 

He gently explored the soft, yielding cheeks, now rubbing, now pinching ... 
and then, on an inspired impulse, worked his other hand beneath his wife's 
buttocks and started to give her the same treatment. 

A feeling of intense power surged through him as he felt the two soft female 
asses in his hands. Jacqueline's naked and completely bare; his wife's 
covered scantily by her tiny bikini briefs. 

Greedily, his fingers traveled hungrily over the four passion-quivering 
spheres, fondling and sinking lusciously into the beautiful, white, flaccid 
flesh. 

They were his slaves! His captives! His to do with whatever he desired!! 
Caine felt a shudder of pure ecstasy tingle through his body. They really 
were, he told himself gleefully. Both his wife and the luscious, young 
Jacqueline: both their bodies eager to do his bidding; moving willingly into 
whatever pose his hands directed! 

Then, as he continued the obscene fucking of his wife in front of the young 
girl's lust-dimmed eyes, a sudden sadistic thought came to his mind ... he 
worked his fingers between the curving slopes of Jacqueline's buttocks, 
pushing the soft, fleshy cheeks apart and feeling for the small, puckered 
hole of her rectum ... the small, tight circle he'd glimpsed earlier ... 

Understanding what he was trying to do, Jacqueline obediently, but 
hesitantly, slightly raised her buttocks, giving him greater access to her 
rear. Caine salaciously rubbed the tips of his fingers up and down the deep 
valley-feeling them pass teasingly over the puckered lips of the Swedish 
girl's rear orifice. 

While the hand which cupped Mona's bottom contented itself with a steady 
kneading, he slowly pushed the forefinger of his left hand into Jacqueline's 
tiny opening. She squirmed sensuously, offering only a token resistance to 
this sudden outrageous liberty. But obviously, her desires had been aroused 
to such an extent by Mona's earlier administrations-as well as by the sight 
of a man and woman fucking right before her eyes-that Jacqueline soon 
relaxed her body completely and gently squirmed her bottom, helping Caine 
penetrate her more deeply and more easily. 

He eased the finger all the way in, slowly, relentlessly, turning it around 
and around, his passion intensifying as he felt the hot, warm flesh close 
tightly around it. The young girl was impaled on his hand like a roasting 
animal skewered on a spit; writhing her hips as she grew hotter and hotter 
on the inflaming spike ... 

"What are you doing to her," Mona whispered huskily. "She looks like she's 
going out of her mind! Tell me where you're touching her, darling!" 

Caine kissed his wife heavily on her lips, then, as he drew back again: "I'm 
feeling her ass!" he told her. "My finger is right up tight inside her 
rectum!" He returned his eyes to Jacqueline. "Isn't it, my precious little 
girl?" 

Jacqueline nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded and half-closed. "Yes, Mona," she 
murmured, her face reddening slightly from the shame. 

Mona stirred slightly. Her hips continued their steady driving rhythm up 
against Caine's pelvis, her legs opening wider to take him deeper inside 
her, but her hands slowly released their hold on her husband's shoulders. 
She felt for Jacqueline's wrist. 

"Why don't you take revenge on me, darling?" Her voice was so soft, so 
breathy, that Jacqueline fully understood what Mona meant when the woman 
raised her body and deliberately placed the girl's hand beneath the soft 
warm cheeks of her own ass. 

She left Jacqueline's fingers resting on the cheek which Caine's hand wasn't 
fondling, then stroked gently up the girl's arm-her hand coming to rest on 
the upper swell of her young, eager breast. 

"Go on!" she urged. "Feel me there, Jackie! Don't be shy-you've done it 
before!" 

As if to encourage the girl, Mona let her thumb slip down over her nipple 
and flicked the nail over the already inflamed protrusion. Up and down it 
went, scratching insistently into the hardness, making the small, shapely 
breast shiver and tremble. 

Jacqueline responded with a groan and raised the elastic rim of Mona's 
panties and Caine felt her fingers brush briefly against his thrusting cock 
as she wriggled them past his testicles. 

"That's right, my darling!" Mona cried-and he knew that the girl had begun 
to tease her finger up into Mona's tightly constricted anus. The next 
moment, he felt the proof of it pressing warmly against his prick: 
Jacqueline's girlish finger pushed softly against the underside of his 
throbbing cock, tickling it almost beyond endurance as she thrust against 
the thin membrane that separated it from his pulsing penis by just a hair's 
breadth ... 

The sensation of her caress and the knowledge that Jacqueline was doing such 
an obscenely intimate thing to his wife while he was actually fucking her, 
caused Caine to lose control completely. 

He jammed his forefinger as far as it would go up Jacqueline's ass-feeling 
the soft, rubbery tightness all around it, seeming to suck and draw his 
finger even more deeply into the constricting channel and he managed to 
stretch his other fingers until they reached the thin, moist slit of her 
cunt. 

They were unable to penetrate the girl's trembling, moist vaginal opening 
very deeply from this position but he succeeded in tickling his nails just 
below the inner surface and across the outer lips. 

Meanwhile, his raging prick fucked faster and faster into his wife's 
hungrily throbbing pussy. It strived with increasing urgency, teased almost 
beyond endurance by the constant pressure of Jacqueline's finger against the 
sperm-filled, ultra-sensitive underside. 

He could feel the floodgates opening. 

Against his will, Caine felt the overwhelming pressure beginning to well up 
deep in his cock-the sperm crying out frantically for release-bubbling deep 
down in his swaying testicles and demanding to start that long, intense 
outpouring, into his wife's hot, waiting cunt. 

His fingers tore wildly at her panties, tearing them aside until he could 
feel Jacqueline's hand. Insanely gripping her wrist, he forced the girl's 
fingers as deep as they would go into his wife's helplessly squirming 
rectum. 

And instantly, he started to erupt ... 

The intensity of his orgasm frightened him; he couldn't remember ever 
experiencing so prolonged and sensuous a climax. His hot, white semen 
spurted and spurted ... until Caine felt drained to the point of 
unconsciousness ... until he felt that it would never die away to a trickle. 

But it wasn't merely the physical sensation of coming that filled him with 
such awe. The violent upheaval extended to his mind as well-making him giddy 
and weak. His brain sizzled as if the cells had been short-circuited. His 
mind felt totally inadequate to contain the sudden ecstasy that possessed 
his whole being ... 

He scarcely knew where he was or what he was doing: His hands were full of 
soft, rounded female flesh; sensuous, warm skin that pleaded with him to 
shape it, twist it, hurt it ... 

All around him he felt the luscious curves, like satin blankets-warming him, 
caressing him ... until he was completely enveloped, smothered by 
all-consuming surfaces of intimacy. 

Frantically, he wrung every last drop of semen from his roaring orgasm. The 
spasm was finally coming to an end, but he still felt strangely unsatisfied. 
His cock was still as hard as ever and gave not the slightest indication 
that it was going to lose its potency-even after the thundering orgasm he'd 
just experienced. 

He withdrew it slowly from between his still groaning wife's legs and as the 
head pulled free of her hungrily clinging cunt lips, Caine realized he was 
fully prepared to fuck the voluptuous young Swedish girl without any waiting 
to regain his vigor. 

But there was no need for haste now. The initial urgency had passed, leaving 
him with a more sensual desire to pet and fondle the two girls. To caress 
them slowly and leisurely; watching them squirm and plead with him for the 
final satisfaction of his rampaging cock in their cunts. 

This drowsy, quietly erotic feeling gave way gradually to an even more 
pleasant reverie. The fantasy grew and took shape in his mind that it would 
be wonderfully exciting if Mona and Jacqueline actually did assume the roles 
of his obedient slaves! If they openly subjected themselves to his 
domination ... pretending with him that he held the power of life and death 
over their bodies. 

Caine pictured himself as an omnipotent Eastern king-a mighty warrior, a 
ruthless man whose every whim must be instantly obeyed! And here, lying 
beside him on the royal bed were two of his most delectable concubines ... 
Mona, his suddenly sexually inflamed wife and Jacqueline! 

But the girls had to be briefed as to what was expected of them. Before 
Caine could slip into his part completely and temporarily lose his drab 
identity, Mona and Jacqueline would have to fully understand their own roles 
in the fantasy. 

He opened his eyes at last and rolled carefully off Mona's body, feeling his 
penis protruding rigidly up in front of him-the sleek, wet shaft pulsing 
gently. 

Mona murmured drowsily in her sleep. Her unaccustomed sexual exercise had 
completely satiated her and she lay with her head turned sideways on the 
pillow, breathing deeply, her legs spread obscenely apart as he had left 
them. 

Caine looked across at Jacqueline. 

The young girl's breast was still held loosely fin Mona's hand, but she 
showed no sign of wanting to join her lesbian lover in sleep, Jacqueline 
looked lazily awake-her passion filled blue eyes regarding Caine with an 
unmistakable expression of sudden fear. She seemed like a quiet, shy little 
girl. The lewd experiences she had gone through today had brought the girl 
quickly through her adolescence and wrought an abrupt maturity in her 
character. 

He leaned over his wife's slumbering body and drew his mouth close to the 
young girl's face. They kissed with their lips wetly open and Jacqueline's 
tongue crept between Caine's teeth; stealing deliciously into his mouth and 
licking sensuously across its roof. She was afraid not to. She was suddenly 
enmeshed in a strange fearsome triangle that she did not understand. There 
was nothing to do now but play along with them. 

He cupped her other breast and gave it a soft, gentle squeeze-then let the 
firm, white mound loll gently in the palm of his hand, supporting it with a 
soft caress of his fingers. Jacqueline hesitantly leaned towards him as 
they, continued kissing, letting her hand stray as if by accident to the 
stiff erectness of his cock. She could not let him know she was frightened 
of a man and was only doing this for Mona's sake. 

She stroked tenderly up and down it, using only the very tips of her 
fingers. Her gentle, coaxing touch filled Caine with an aching longing for 
the very young, very beautiful girl. 

But at the same time it reminded him of his desire to play the part of a 
ruthless, terrible monarch: forcing both Mona and Jacqueline to attend to 
his needs on fear of painful punishment. He ended their kiss and started to 
whisper secretly in the girl's ear, finally bringing himself to voice his 
urgent need. When he had finished explaining to her in halting phrases what 
he wanted them to do, Caine steeled himself for Jacqueline's refusal. For 
her mocking laughter, for her cold contempt ... 

For anything, in fact, except the girl's surprising agreement and 
willingness to do anything he asked of her! 

"Yes, yes, I think Mona would like that," Jacqueline murmured. "We'd have to 
dress up, though, wouldn't we? I know-there are some old bangles and beads 
in the attic. I'll go and get them while you tell Mona what she must do. And 
we can wear some silk scarves ... Oh, Mr. Ashley! It's going to be so 
exciting!" 

She kissed him quickly, then bounced off the bed, looking for all the world 
as if she was about to go and dress up for a fancy formal party. She knew 
she had to look convincing if she were to please Mona. 

Caine watched as she swiftly pulled her panties on-then stopped short, 
smiling ruefully down at herself and exclaiming: "Silly! I won't be needing 
these, will I? I'm going to wear a much sexier costume!" 

Jacqueline peeled them off again and posed proudly in front of him for a 
moment, smiling lewdly as she saw his cock jerk slightly at the full sight 
of her voluptuous young body. Then she hurried out of the bedroom, leaving 
the door open behind her. 

Mona had roused at the girl's voice and she opened her eyes wide, looking at 
the empty space on the bed where Jacqueline had been lying. "Where's she 
gone?" she asked Caine dazedly. "Did you tell her we wanted to be alone?" 

"Not exactly." Caine settled himself comfortably on the pillow, putting his 
hands behind his neck and stretching himself luxuriously. His prick throbbed 
stiffly and Mona ran her eyes over it, licking her lips involuntarily in 
anticipation. 

"Will she be back soon?" 

"Yes-quite soon, darling. But I want you to get two of your silk scarves out 
of the drawer and go up to the attic with her: Jacqueline will explain what 
we're going to do." 

Caine's voice was so matter-of-fact, so casual, that he might have been 
asking his wife to perform an ordinary household chore. His body seethed 
with a new-found confidence; he felt almost disconcertingly in full control 
of the situation. 

"But, Caine-there's so much I want to tell you, darling! We've got so many 
things to discuss." 

"Later, Mona. We can talk as much as you like. But not now! 
Please!-Jacqueline is waiting for you." 

Reluctantly, Mona got up from the bed and adjusted her panties. She smoothed 
them out so that they once more resumed their function of concealing her 
sex. Caine smiled. 

"You won't be needing those, darling!" he told her. "I think you'll find 
that Jacqueline has a rather more interesting garment for you to wear!" 

Mona stared at him, a frown beginning to crease her forehead. "The scarves?" 
she whispered. "Is that what we're going to put on?" 

Caine nodded. "That's right, Mona. We're going to play a little game, just 
the three of us." He ran his eyes leisurely over his wife's scantily clad 
body. "You're going to be a slave, darling-a docile, obedient little 
slave-girl! You'd like that, wouldn't you, Mona?" 

She trembled visibly. Her teeth chewed on her lower lip, sucking the corner 
of it into her mouth anxiously. "Caine-hasn't this gone far enough?" she 
ventured. "We can't go on; at least I can't I must have been crazy to start 
such a thing! Let's put an end to it-please, darling!" 

He smiled calmly at her. "As you said-you started it, Mona. And I'm afraid I 
don't want to stop, not just yet, anyway!" He seemed amused by her obvious 
discomfort. 

"I'm enjoying myself, darling. I'm having fun! What's the matter-aren't 
you?" 

"Caine ... we're being ... I don't know ... we're acting like irresponsible 
children instead of adults! We simply can't let this go any further." She 
was getting panicky now, searching for some reason why the "trio" she had 
initiated should now be abandoned. "For one thing, it's not fair to 
Jacqueline!" she blurted out. "That poor girl-she's scarcely older than our 
daughter!" 

Caine broke in irritably. "For God's sake, Mona. What in hell do you take me 
for? You set out deliberately to excite me by pretending to have an affair 
with the girl-oh yes, please don't think I haven't seen through that little 
scheme!-and now that I've swallowed it, you're starting to have cold feet!" 
He stopped for a moment, then continued: 

"Well, if you think that now I'll just say: 'alright, darling, what we're 
doing is wrong and we should call the whole thing off'-you're crazy!" 

He softened his voice. "Mona," he went on, more reasonably. "Can't you see 
what has happened? Your door was open before-I stood there watching! I know 
what you and Jacqueline were doing ... and I know you were trying to let me 
catch the two of you! 

"Well, it worked! Darling, I haven't felt so excited in years ... so close 
to you! Why break it up just when we're having such a wonderful time? 

"Go on-go upstairs and make yourself ready. Jacqueline will be wondering 
what's happened to you. I promise you we'll talk it all out later." ... 
Caine leaned forward and gave Mona's hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked 
down at him doubtfully, then gave a small, uncertain nod. 

"Alright, darling, if that's what you want, I'll do it to make you happy." 

"I'm sure." He watched her as she walked slowly out of the room. Her 
buttocks swung sensuously under the tight panties, the cheeks sticking out 
boldly on either side of the cutaway silk. 

He was alone. For a few minutes there was time to bathe in anticipation of 
the joys ahead. Caine decided to have a cigarette while he waited for Mona 
and Jacqueline to return. It would help to soothe his nerves, perhaps quiet 
the pounding of his heart. 

As he inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, he felt again that glorious 
sensation of freedom flowing through his body. No matter what finally 
developed from this lustful evening, he thought, one thing was certain, he 
would no longer have to search for a young and adaptive mistress ... and the 
knowledge that his life was no longer falling into the same pattern as 
everyone else's filled him with indescribable excitement. 

His mistress? She was right here in the house at this moment! Upstairs with 
his wife, changing herself into a voluptuous slave-girl! 

Jacqueline! Caine breathed her name out in a throaty whisper. Jacqueline! He 
ran his tongue sweetly around the word, savoring its exotic, adventuresome 
flavor. 

Unwittingly, poor Mona had supplied him with the very girl he had yearned 
for. She had been right under his nose for over three weeks and he had not 
so much as dared to go near her because of her youthfulness! 

Caine put his cigarette in the ashtray and let it burn down unheeded. He 
didn't really want to smoke. He rather enjoyed the quickening of his pulse; 
the way all his senses felt keen and sharp. 

Poor Mona! he smiled again. He had to admit that he would never have thought 
her capable of such a desperate plot! Even now, Caine could hardly credit 
the fact that his wife had arranged such an intriguing and daring scheme to 
reawaken his interest in her. 

She must be quite desperate to risk such a blatant, obvious ploy; why, he 
might have reacted very differently for all she knew! Another man would have 
walked out on her for ... 

Caine stopped, his thoughts suddenly sticking in a groove. "For all she knew 
..." the phrase tickled irritatingly in his mind. 

Out of all the possibilities at her disposal, why had Mona arranged a 
"lesbian" scene to seduce him? 

Could it be ... could it be that she knew him better than he thought? Yet 
surely he had never so much as hinted that he found the spectacle of two 
young women cavorting in sensual pleasure together an exciting one. 

He couldn't have! 

As far as he could remember, the subject had never arisen in their 
infrequent conversations. 

Was it that indefinable and probably fictitious, quality they called 
"feminine intuition?" Perhaps ... Caine felt rather uneasy all the same. If, 
somehow, Mona did see through to his most secret fantasies, she was in 
possession of a deeper knowledge of him than he realized. It implied a 
greater understanding of his psychological make-up than he himself 
possessed. 

Absently, lost in this uncomfortable speculation, Caine reached out and 
crushed the remains of his cigarette in the ashtray. 

Perhaps Mona was a better partner for him than he had previously imagined. 
He didn't want to believe this, but the idea was taking a firm root in his 
mind and refused to be dislodged. Also, Caine was growing increasingly aware 
that Mona had shown no trace of embarrassment when he had burst in upon the 
girls. 

Quite the contrary. And when she and Jacqueline were making love, Mona had 
been the one to take the more dominant role. He saw suddenly that his wife 
simply couldn't have been caressing Jacqueline solely for his benefit! 

She was subconsciously enjoying the situation as much as he! 

She hadn't suffered a rather unpleasant intimacy solely to please her 
husband. Mona had forgotten he was watching ... forgotten that her own 
husband was in the same room while she had relations with another girl! 

He allowed the thought to settle, to sink fully into his brain. It changed 
quite a lot of his feelings towards her; she was clearly far more complex a 
person than he had understood her to be. Well, he mused, he'd see what 
developed during their next bout of love-making. 

After all, there was no need to choose between the two girls yet. For 
tonight, at least, he could enjoy them both! 

Caine felt comforted and reassured by this last thought. It was nice not to 
have to make a decision of any kind-and there was plenty of time to make up 
his mind whether it would be Jacqueline or Mona who would ultimately become 
his lover ... 

He could now hear them coming back down the stairs, their soft footsteps 
barely discernible as they approached the bedroom. Caine's heart beat 
faster, his imagination reaching ahead to imagine what the girls would look 
like in their "slave-girl" costumes. He was confident they would fulfill all 
his expectations. 

 CHAPTER 6 

 "Jacqueline" 

A few minutes before in the attic, Jacqueline had rubbed a cloth over an 
antique mirror and examined herself critically. The gilt-framed glass showed 
her a striking reflection: a row of imitation pearls, the beads thick and 
large, hung around her neck-falling across her breasts just above her 
nipples. Two brass-colored bangles were looped about her wrists, and most 
eye catching of all, the girl had arranged a brilliant scarf around her 
hips; tying it so that the knot came slightly below her navel, with the rest 
of the silk falling down in front of her crotch. 

It wasn't quite long enough to completely conceal her sex: the fringe hung 
across her pubic mound, tickling the lips of her cunt as she moved. The girl 
tugged the "loin cloth" further down her hips until it more effectively hid 
her private parts from view, then turned around. She looked over her 
shoulder to judge the appearance of the rear of her costume. 

The scarf did nothing, of course, to hide her buttocks; the cheeks were 
completely exposed. But the tightness of the silk across her waist certainly 
accentuated the curve of her hips-making them jut out more sexily than 
usual. 

Jacqueline faced the mirror again, well pleased with her improvised outfit. 
She wondered why Mona was taking so long; it seemed as if she had been up in 
the attic for ages and she was impatient for other eyes than her own to 
admire the bizarre picture she presented. 

Somehow, it now seemed perfectly natural to her that she was waiting for 
Mona to join her and dress herself in a similar fashion-before they both 
went back downstairs and allowed Caine to treat them as his slaves. 

Such a very long time seemed to have elapsed since she had awakened that 
morning and for the first time in her life, played so shamelessly with 
herself in the bath: Jacqueline smiled, scarcely able to believe that she 
had felt so guilty and stricken with remorse over such a silly, perfectly 
natural incident. 

And, then, from that moment on, events had crowded one on top of the other. 
So much had happened to her today! She had changed completely in the space 
of those-what? eight hours? 

After Mona had made that shocking proposal to her that she permit Caine to 
share both their charms; To let him take his pleasures with the two of them, 
so that he wouldn't want Jacqueline to go home in three more weeks when she 
was supposed to! To keep her there so that she and Mona could remain 
together! Perhaps it would be worth it and maybe even Mona's husband 
wouldn't want to touch her-Maybe he would just be happy with Mona. 

After Jacqueline had agreed to Mona's plan, because she had found such 
excitement and understanding in the older woman ... after she agreed, they 
made love again. 

Throughout most of the sunny, warm spring afternoon their bodies had been in 
close, intimate contact; experimenting with ways of bringing each other to 
wilder, more voluptuous orgasms, or simply content to cuddle one another in 
sweet, almost impossible bliss ... 

Then her growing nervousness as the time approached when Caine was expected 
home-and Mona's hurriedly whispered instructions to her when they heard his 
key turn in the lock. 

Jacqueline had felt terribly afraid as the man's footsteps came softly up 
the stairs. She knew that without Mona's support, without the woman's 
amazingly bold approach to her husband, she would have died on the spot! But 
things had gone so smoothly after that. Almost as if they were repeating 
their parts in a drama which had been enacted many times before ... 

She moved her shoulders, shuddering involuntarily as the curious phenomenon 
stole over her. Jacqueline felt sure that the three of them had lived this 
same day time and time again ... and that they were doomed to spend eternity 
going over and over the events, never quite sure that they were on an 
endless treadmill, but always having that awful, nagging suspicion ... 

"Oh nonsense!! she exclaimed out loud. She moved away from the mirror, 
smoothing her hands over the sleekness of her thighs in an attempt to dispel 
the unsettling mood. 

"It's this old attic that's filling your head with these ideas," she told 
herself. And it was true that the disused room, with its low ceiling and 
dusty trunks; its long-discarded toys and assortment of forgotten junk, 
possessed a rather dismal and faintly oppressive atmosphere. As if it 
resented being used as a repository for unwanted odds and ends, the long 
years' accumulation of worthless bric-a-brac. 

Jacqueline went to the door and was thankful that Mona had at last appeared 
on the stairs. The woman seemed lost in thought, not noticing the girl until 
she was almost on top of her. 

"Is everything all right, Mona?" Jacqueline asked anxiously. The expression 
on Mrs. Ashley's face made her fear that Caine had undergone a change of 
attitude since she'd left the bedroom. 

"What? Oh yes, everything's fine," Mona said absently. She walked past 
Jacqueline and moved into the attic. 

"You look worried, darling," Jacqueline persisted, following her into the 
room. 

Mona's eyes blinked rapidly and she seemed to pull herself together "I'm 
sorry," she smiled. "I was miles away!" Her manner changed; she became brisk 
and business-like. "You look charming, Jacqueline-really charming! Now! I 
must try to make myself look as sexy as you. Where shall we begin ... ?" 

Jacqueline took one of the scarves from Mona's hand. She tied it tightly 
around Mona's hips, then worked the down-hanging loops so that they fell in 
front of the scant panties the woman was wearing. 

"Wouldn't it look better if they were like mine, darling?" whispered 
Jacqueline. "Without the panties?" 

Mona turned so that she faced the mirror-silently she removed the flimsy 
briefs and ... 

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise: "My!" she exclaimed. "I do look good, don't 
I?" 

"We haven't finished yet," Jacqueline told her anxious to make her look as 
inviting as possible for her husband. "Here-let me put the beads around your 
neck." The girl took up a string of pearls and fitted them around Mona's 
neck, having to lift her beautifully long, black hair out of the way so that 
she could fasten the clasp. 

Mona kept her hands at her sides, letting Jacqueline adjust the pearls 
across her bosom, feeling the girl's sweet breath blowing softly on her bare 
shoulder as she bent forward. 

"Turn around," Jacqueline commanded. "I can't quite judge the effect from 
this angle." 

Mona allowed herself to be turned, Jacqueline's hands exciting her as they 
grasped her shoulders. Pursing her lips, the girl carefully arranged the 
string of beads so that they actually touched Mona's nipples: making the 
woman shiver as the cold gems brushed against their warmth. 

Then she stepped back a pace, head cocked to one side, pleased with her 
artistic arrangement. "They set your breasts off beautifully, Mona!" she 
cried. "Oh, I wish mine were as big as yours!" She put her hands beneath her 
own breasts and raised them ruefully. 

"Don't be silly, darling!" Mona smiled, pleased with the compliment, knowing 
that her figure was more well-developed than Jacqueline's and glad the girl 
envied her ripe, buxom breasts. "Yours are just as nice as mine ... maybe 
not quite so large, but your firmness more than makes up for that!" 

Jacqueline rubbed her fingers over her nipples, making them perk up almost 
immediately. "Mmmmm," she sighed slowly. "All the same, I love to feel your 
breasts so much, Mona! If they belonged to me, I could touch them whenever I 
liked, couldn't I?" 

Mona paused for a moment: then, in a quieter, more deliberate voice said: 
"They could belong to you, darling, if you wanted them to: You could treat 
them as your own ... your very own, you know. You only have to ask me ... 
and make our little arrangement with my husband a success." 

Despite the intimacy of their relationship, Jacqueline felt herself 
beginning to blush at Mona's words. She brought her hands up, away from her 
breasts and reached them out toward the woman. 

"Wait!" Mona held her away, though Jacqueline could see that she, too, 
longed to move into a warm, passionate embrace. "Don't forget my husband is 
waiting for us. We'll have to go down now, darling. But soon we'll be able 
to hold each other and do everything we want ... come on." 

She took Jacqueline's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and led the 
girl through the door. Their hands brushed constantly against their bare 
thighs as they walked downstairs-making a silent promise that in just a few 
more minutes they would roam freely all over the more intimate parts of 
their bodies ... 

As they re-entered the bedrooms, hand in hand, Mona kicked the door softly 
shut with the flat of her foot. Demurely, eyes downcast, they presented 
themselves for Caine's approval: standing at the foot of the bed, looking 
like girls out of a thrilling, but impossible dream. 

Caine sat up slowly, his eyes wandering with an expression of mounting 
pleasure over their scantily-clad bodies. They were playing their parts to 
perfection, he thought. Jacqueline, the shorter of the two, light gold with 
honey-colored silken hair-Mona, darker with gleaming ebony hair and taller 
... what an array of unbelievable beauty! 

He stared at them for some time, feasting his eyes on the voluptuous 
spectacle of his wife and the young, innocent girl standing before him, 
meekly awaiting his commands. 

Finally, visual stimulation became insufficient; he desired the greater 
delight of actually touching these gorgeous, submissive creatures. 

Accordingly, he clapped his hands loudly and beckoned them to approach the 
bed. Slowly they drew near to him, moving with cat-like grace, keeping their 
eyes on the carpet. 

Caine waited until the girls were standing right next to him, then swung his 
feet off the bed-planting them on the floor between Mona and Jacqueline, 
pushing between them and separating their bodies. He raised his hands, 
letting them glide softly on the girls' outer thighs. 

His fingers moved slowly upwards to caress their long, naked legs; his face 
only a few inches from their bellies. 

While they stood there in silent resignation, Caine ran his hands 
possessively up and down their firm fleshed thighs. He stroked them 
intimately, insistently, reveling in the fact that they were so docile, so 
eager to please him. 

Jacqueline held Mona's hand tightly. More and more, the girl was falling 
under the spell of her "role": she allowed herself to half-believe that she 
really was enslaved to Caine and that Mona was her sister in bondage. A 
curious fairytale atmosphere seemed to have been kindled in the bedroom. As 
the man pressed their thighs, making them tremble with a mounting 
excitement, Jacqueline recalled the stories of the Arabian Nights. To her 
fevered imagination they were now remembered as being full of incidents 
where girls had been held captive-completely at the mercy of a ruthless, 
highly-sexed Sultan, who did exactly what he pleased with them ... 

When she had first read them as a young girl, Jacqueline had felt a strange, 
rather discomforting sensation in the pit of her stomach. It had spread to 
her loins, firing them with an unfamiliar and disturbing heat. 

Without being consciously aware of the fact, she had closely identified with 
those tortured young maidens, whose destiny it was to be nothing more than 
objects of pleasure to the insatiable rulers of harems, palaces and mosques. 

Whenever she imagined herself dressed in their scanty, revealing garments, 
Jacqueline felt a thrill of sheer ecstasy shoot through her body. To be 
forced into doing all sorts of terrible things ... and in the presence of 
other similarly dressed girls ... 

She had never been able to bring herself to go further and act out in her 
imagination what exactly would happen in such a situation. And when Came had 
suggested to her that the three of them should play the very game that she 
had secretly yearned for since her childhood, Jacqueline had known an 
intensely powerful excitement: it was almost as if he had psychoanalyzed her 
and understood the deep, subconscious sex-fantasies which she scarcely 
admitted even to herself. 

Jacqueline gave a little shiver of foreboding. It was both thrilling and 
frightening that someone knew so much about her. She watched out of the 
corner of her eye as Caine's hand stroked her flesh, now moving around to 
the back of her leg; now caressing around the circumference and fondling 
down the inside of her thigh. 

The silk scarf which hung over her loins, not quite wide enough to conceal 
the deep crease on either side of her crotch, felt sexy against her pubic 
mound. It brushed with an acute tickling sensation on her naked cunt as 
Caine made her thighs sway gently ... 

At last, he tired of this pleasing but innocuous fondling. Running his hands 
higher up, Caine gave a brief caress to the buttocks of both girls-cupping 
them firmly and squeezing the relaxed globes between his fingers. 

Then he released them, lifted himself back onto the bed and once again 
stretched at full length in front of them. 

"Show me how you please each other when there are no males around," he 
commanded. "Let me see what games you females get up to when you are alone 
together!" He propped a pillow behind his head so that he could watch them 
more comfortably. "Do anything you wish-only make sure that I am well 
pleased!" 

Jacqueline bowed her head. "As you wish, Master," she murmured. "We shall do 
all we can to carry out your every desire!" 

She knew that the color had risen to her cheeks, staining them to a blushing 
crimson. But though her heat pounded furiously against her ribs, Jacqueline 
felt herself gradually escaping into her character of slave-girl with ease. 
And it was as a captive, obediently resigned, servant that she now turned to 
Mona, her arms extended to the woman in a welcoming embrace. 

But, Mona haughtily swung around, presenting Jacqueline with her back; 
crossing her hands proudly over her breasts. 

The girl realized had taken on the role of a rebel, that she was inviting 
Jacqueline to force her into submission. "We dare not disobey!" 

She put her hands tentatively on the woman's hips, at the same time moving 
close to Mona and letting her "loin cloth" press against her partner's bare 
buttocks. Jacqueline could feel the delicious heat coming from Mona's 
ripely-fleshed curves-and pressed her fingers more firmly into the woman's 
hips. 

"No!" Mona cried. "I won't do such things! If you want me to ... then you'll 
have to make me!" Her eyes glinted with a provocative challenge. "If you 
can, that is! Go on-I dare you! Show our master which one of us is stronger! 
I dare you!" 

Caine leaned forward intently, hardly daring to let his eyes blink for fear 
that he would miss a single second of the girls' "performance." 

Jacqueline ran her hands slowly up Mona's back until they gripped the 
woman's shoulders. "You must do what he commands!" she hissed in total 
acceptance of the game now. "We could be flogged or put to death for such 
disobedience! Please, Mona-I don't want to suffer even if you don't mind!" 

But Mona thrust her away with a violent backward heave of her body. 
Jacqueline staggered, the silk scarf flaring up momentarily and giving Caine 
a teasing flash of the girl's open vagina and soft golden pubic hair. 

Then-crouching her body in a wrestling stance-Jacqueline threw herself at 
Mona, clutching the woman around her waist and toppling them both to the 
floor. 

They fell in a disorderly tangle of writhing legs and arms; rolling over on 
the soft carpet their buttocks hidden, then revealed-as first Jacqueline and 
then Mona gained the upper position. 

Caine moved quickly to the edge of the bed, eyes darting, following the 
girls' every movement. They were breathing heavily, Mona's gorgeous black 
hair tumbling over their full ripe breasts as she fought for dominance. He 
could see Jacqueline's hands clawing for a hold on the smooth surface of his 
wife's back-finally slipping to Mona's buttocks and grasping the cheeks 
tightly; pinching large folds of flesh and causing the valley to widen and 
expose the naked secrets of her anus, but only momentarily. Mona dragged the 
girl off her body and plumped herself ruthlessly on Jacqueline's stomach ... 
her legs open, her feet planted astride on the girl's wrists, trapping 
Jacqueline inescapably. 

Vainly, the girl kicked her legs up, trying to dislodge Mona's position. She 
merely succeeded in giving Caine a breathtaking view of her parted 
thighs-the narrow silk scarf riding up over her crotch and baring the thin 
red line of her tight little pussy. 

Mona wriggled her buttocks tormentingly on Jacqueline's bare belly, making 
the girl gasp for breath, her thighs squirming helplessly ... 

"Now then," Mona whispered throatily. "That's what you get for trying to get 
the better of me!" She put both her hands roughly on Jacqueline's supple 
breasts. "Is this what you wanted me to do? Play with your breasts?" She 
squeezed them cruelly, her fingers kneading the girl's unprotected nipples 
furiously. "How do you like that then?" she asked huskily. 

Jacqueline rolled her head from side to side, unable to do anything to stop 
Mona's punishing treatment of her breasts. 

"Please!" she finally managed to implore the woman. "You're hurting me, 
Mona-don't hold them so tightly!" 

"Oh?" Mona surveyed her sardonically. "So that's not what you wanted after 
all! Well, perhaps this will give you more pleasure ... " 

As she brought her fingers and thumbs together around the rigid stalks of 
Jacqueline's nipples, she slowly pulled her breasts upwards. When they were 
lifted as far as she could possibly stretch them, Mona swung her hands from 
side to side, making the girl's ivory mounds jiggle like twin mountains of 
plastic clay. 

"Ouch! Oh Mona, you're squeezing them too hard! Please let them go!" 

"Really?" Mona looked down into Jacqueline's pain-contorted face and smiled. 
"Alright, then I'll try something else ... " 

Moving so quickly that the smaller more fragile girl had no chance to seize 
the opportunity to free herself, Mona turned swiftly around on Jacqueline's 
body; positioning her knees on her captive's wrists and bending forward so 
that her face was right in line with the juncture between Jacqueline's 
thighs. 

Her own cunt waved inches above the younger girl's eyes, as Mona studied 
Jacqueline's loins. She rested her hands on the inside of the girl's thighs, 
holding them firmly apart. 

Jacqueline forced herself to relax, to allow Mona to take the initiative 
once more. She stopped her legs from trying to press together and let the 
woman do as she wished with her body. 

Mona sensed the girl's capitulation and eased the pressure of her knees on 
Jacqueline's trapped wrists. Her fingers slowly plucked the red scarf from 
its resting place between Jacqueline's loins; gradually revealing to both 
her eyes and Caine's, the red-lipped opening of the girl's tiny vulnerable 
cunt. 

When the silk covering was completely lifted away from Jacqueline's vagina, 
Mona laid the scarf daintily across her right thigh, but, instead of petting 
and fondling the moist vulnerable slit, she began to spank it lightly with 
the flat of her hand! 

Her fingers patted steadily on the girl's open cunt, raining a rapid 
succession of slaps-some of which landed on Jacqueline's mound, some on the 
puffy lips themselves and some on the base of her sex, on that tender 
portion of skin between her vagina and rectum. 

At first the blows were no more than rather gentle pats, stimulating and 
exciting to the girl who was receiving them, but gradually, Mona increased 
the ardour of her spanking, until her hand was descending on Jacqueline's 
tortured cunt with considerable power! 

She tried to lift her knees to protect her sex from the stinging treatment, 
but Mona responded quickly by grasping with her other hand the half-raised 
leg and thrusting it firmly back against the floor. 

Mona had crooked her fingers slightly, allowing them to sink fractionally 
into Jacqueline's slitted opening each time they landed. She would slap her 
hand down into the red wound ... hold it there for a moment or two while her 
fingers tickled inside ... then raise it again for the next blow. 

Jacqueline began to make shrill cries of protest. With every descent of 
Mona's hand, she uttered a louder and more pained yelp-and the girl's 
agonized moans increased Caine's excitement immensely! 

He was lying on his side, his penis rubbing into the turned-back sheets. The 
girls were positioned directly below him and he had a grandstand view of 
their thrilling, erotic display of lesbian entertainment ... 

The stinging of Mona's hand at last forced Jacqueline to make a superhuman 
effort to free herself. She clenched her teeth and gathering all her 
strength and butted her face sharply into the woman's buttocks. 

This retaliation was so sudden and unexpected there Mona was sent careening 
forward. Her hands lunged out to save herself and her knees lifted from 
Jacqueline's wrists. 

Instantly, the girl transferred the palms of her hands to Caine's wife's 
buttocks and gave a lusty heave, helping her on her sprawling way! 

Mona fell helplessly, ending up full-length on the floor, her ripe, full 
breasts and stomach hitting the carpet with such an impact that it knocked 
all the breath out of her ... 

Jacqueline threw herself on top of the stunned woman and quickly pinioned 
Mona's hands behind her back. She held the wrists in one hand, lifting them 
high-nearly making them reach to Mona's shoulders, Mona screamed with pain. 

Setting her mouth in a grim, determined pout, Jacqueline knelt by the 
woman's body-on Caine's far side so that he was still able to see all that 
went on-and started to spank Mona's quivering buttocks. 

Her hand fell resoundingly on the snowy white hemispheres, each meeting of 
hand and flesh sending a sharp "thwack" through the room. 

Having received no mercy, Jacqueline showed none and she sent her 
open-fingered hand again and again onto Mona's bottom; making sure that each 
slap landed on a new portion of the woman's buttocks. Before very long, 
Mona's wobbling globes were stained an angry pink. They glowed, each lovely 
round cheek covered with the red aftermath of Jacqueline's spanking. 

"Ooooh! That's enough, Jackie!" Mona cried. "I'm so sore, darling! I feel as 
if I'm on fire! Ouch! Jacqueline! Please, darling ... please!!!" 

But the girl refused to let up. Her arm ached with the rhythm of her slaps, 
but she spanked on and on, determined to make every inch of Mona's bottom 
feel the wrath of her hand. 

When there wasn't a single place on the woman's bottom that hadn't been 
severely whacked, Jacqueline made her hand fall on the backs of Mona's 
thighs. The firm flesh was as smooth and supple there as it had felt on 
Mona's buttocks-wonderfully creamy, superbly textured ... 

At least, though, Jacqueline had to let her hand drop limply to her side. It 
tingled and felt as sore as Mona's rear looked. She simply couldn't give the 
woman another slap! Besides, during the past few minutes, Jacqueline had 
felt a growing desire to caress Mona's body and kiss away the hurt the 
paddling had caused. 

She loosened her hold on Mona's wrists and let them go, bent her face 
quickly to the woman's bottom and let her lips brush against the angry red 
cheeks. 

Sweetly, Jacqueline kissed all over Mona's punished buttocks, soothing away 
the sharp stinging and caressing the sore, tender globes with her 
fingertips. 

Mona remained quite still. She submitted to the girl's kissing without 
moving at all; her hands stayed twisted behind her, the backs of her fingers 
resting on her spine. 

Only when Jacqueline softly parted the cheeks of her buttocks and licked her 
tongue tenderly into the cleft did Mona stir. 

She raised her hips slowly, helping the girl reach her tongue more easily 
into the crease and push the wet tip against her rectum. Jacqueline held the 
globes apart, one hand resting on each fulsome orb, while her lips pressed 
tightly into the wide-stretched furrow and her tongue worked deliriously 
into Mona's back passage. 

For several sensual minutes the excited girl ran her tongue hungrily over 
Mona's rectal orifice, curling the tip and pushing it lewdly into the hard, 
tight opening. 

When she finally withdrew her mouth, Mona turned over, her breasts shaking 
voluptuously-the colored beads swinging sensuously against her nipples. The 
silk scarf had fallen back into place across her throbbing vagina, modestly 
shielding the thin pink-lipped opening from view. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was very naughty and I deserved to be 
spanked! Of course we must do as we're told: It was very wrong of me to 
disobey! Come, let's do as our Master bids us ... " 

And she pulled Jacqueline gently down beside her, one hand stealing around 
the girl's waist, the other going up to clasp her shoulder. The girls 
cuddled warmly together, lying side by side on the carpet just below Caine's 
eyes, shamelessly kissing and caressing each other-knowing that he could see 
every move they made. 

Jacqueline's right hand slid down until her fingers rested over Mona's 
silk-covered crotch. She massaged the place lovingly, moving her hand in a 
graceful up-and-down rhythm so that the scarf was pressed tightly and 
revealingly against the woman's pulsing mound. 

The thin silk rubbed excitingly on Mona's waiting cunt and as Jacqueline 
experimentally pushed her finger into the yielding hole, the underside was 
gradually forced inwards; penetrating Mona's hot, moist vaginal opening. 

"Mmmmmm." Jacqueline sighed ecstatically as she slowly pushed her finger-the 
material of the scarf acting as an improvised sheath-into her female lover's 
wet, open vagina. 

Firmly, the digit was thrust fully into Mona's warm, moist cave. Jacqueline 
working it around and around-taking care to push the silk in before her 
finger and make it touch every inch of the woman's throbbing cunt. 

Soon, Caine could see that his wife's pussy was almost filled with the 
scarf. Jacqueline had cleverly stuck it so far into the slit that, when she 
pulled her finger out again, only the fringe was left to tangle out from the 
throbbing lips of her lust-swollen vagina. 

Mona herself, meanwhile, had not been idle. While her hands had been 
caressing Jacqueline's bottom (unfortunately out of Caine's line of vision) 
she had drawn Jacqueline's scarf tightly between the girl's thighs. It could 
now be seen-as Mona's body moved slightly away from Jacqueline's and again 
lay in repose on the carpet-now that her fingers were holding the very end 
of the scarf tautly under the young girl's buttocks. 

The pressure caused the silken material to be pulled as constrictingly as 
possible between her wide-split legs; causing it to twist into a very narrow 
strip-cutting firmly into Jacqueline's cunt, leaving the lips themselves to 
protrude nakedly on either side of the thin line of silk. The obscene 
parting of her soft golden pubic hair added teasingly to the lewd, depraved 
sight. 

While Caine's eyes were glued on this erotic spectacle, Mona gave him a 
brief look-then began slowly to pull the taut length of silk scarf backwards 
and forwards between Jacqueline's thighs and across her tiny, erected 
clitoris. 

The effect was startling! 

Caine felt his prick rising to a frenzied erectness. It moved of its own 
volition against the sheets and for a moment he feared that he would shoot 
his sperm onto them prematurely, so urgent was the aching sensation at his 
loins. 

Jacqueline's vagina was drawn widely open by Mona's manipulations: the scarf 
had become no more than a strip of silk about a quarter of an inch in 
diameter and it sank deeply into the long gash of the girl's pussy, forcing 
the lips to stretch wider and wider apart. 

As he stared, the girls rose trance-like to their feet. Mona retained her 
grip on the scarf and standing by Jacqueline's side, facing towards the bed, 
she continued her steady back and forth movement of the thin silk material 
between her legs. 

Jacqueline's crotch was level with his eyes now and Caine could see even 
more clearly the unnatural pout of the girl's vaginal lips. They seemed 
thicker than he remembered them ... and he suddenly realized that this was 
due to the fact that the tight pressure of the scarf was forcing them to 
protrude; curving them out of position and opening them wide. 

For Jacqueline herself the sensation was unbearably sensual. She could feel 
Mona's hand under the wide-split crevice of her buttocks, could feel the 
constant teasing of the silk band into her now lust-inflamed cunt ... 

Her knees wobbled unsteadily and for a moment she was sure that she was 
going to faint. And then she clenched her eyes tightly shut and screamed, 
her cunt spurting its love juices down her thighs; staining the silk and 
flowing abundantly down onto Mona's quickly placed fingers. 

The woman's hand lifted into the well between her legs and Jacqueline felt 
the sensitive, fondling fingers slip into her cunt. They took their place 
beside the fast raking silk and spurred her relentlessly onto the completion 
of her climax. 

She managed to open her eyes for the slightest of seconds during the 
prolonged orgasm, staring down at her thighs as they quivered and shook with 
a life of their own. 

Then, her legs were unable to support her a moment longer and she fell 
half-swooning into Mona's arms. She dimly realized that she was being 
lowered gently onto the bed ... then gave herself up to the blissful warm 
blanket of unconsciousness that was slowly enveloping her ... 

 CHAPTER 7 

Gradually, the sound of voices reached her. They seemed to be coming from a 
great distance, down a long dark wind-tunnel. Jacqueline didn't really want 
to hear them: she would have preferred to remain here in this beautiful, 
dreamy pink and fluffy world where everything was so peaceful, so 
wonderfully calm. But the spell had already been broken, her escape into 
sleep had ended. Jacqueline slowly brought herself back from the silent, 
still state of rest and into full consciousness. 

She was lying on one side of Game's body and Mona was on the other. He had 
his arms around their shoulders, clasping them gently, his head turned 
toward Mona. 

"She's waking up," Mona whispered and Caine brought his face around, smiling 
at Jacqueline and giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

"What-what happened?" Jacqueline asked hazily. "I was standing next to Mona 
and suddenly I ... " She raised herself up onto one elbow. "I fainted!" she 
finished, shaking her head ruefully. "How rude of me! But I couldn't help 
myself, I felt so tired-" 

"Of course you did, darling," Mona said softly. "After all, you've been 
through quite a lot today! It's no wonder you feel exhausted." 

Jacqueline thought that she exchanged a knowing, secret look with her 
husband. "How do you feel now, precious?" Mona went on. "You've had nearly 
two hours' sleep, you know. Has it refreshed you?" 

"Two hours!" Jacqueline sat right up in bed, startled. "Surely I couldn't 
have slept all that time!" It suddenly occurred to her that Mona and Caine 
had been talking together while she had been fast asleep. They seemed 
somehow different now, as if they had reached an understanding ... 

Looking from one to the other, Jacqueline felt sure that something had 
transpired between the husband and wife which concerned her, but about which 
she was to be told nothing. 

It wasn't anything she could put a name to; it was nothing she could pin 
down and identify. No, whatever it was that the couple had agreed to, 
she-Jacqueline-would never fully discover. She might guess at it from their 
subsequent actions, but the essence of their conversation would always elude 
her. 

The girl felt upset by this realization. It reminded her that she was, 
comparatively speaking, a stranger in their midst. An outsider, someone who 
could never completely share their lives. 

People who had been married for as long as Caine and Mona always retained a 
certain duality; however close a third person got to them, there remained a 
part of their lives which couldn't be shared-an intimacy between them that 
couldn't be penetrated even by those close to them. 

Jacqueline reminded herself that she should have understood this even at the 
beginning. Despite Mona's protestations, she should have realized that she 
could never come between her and her husband. Not in every way, not 
completely ... 

Or was she merely imagining things? Had she misinterpreted the look which 
she thought Mona had exchanged with Caine? Jacqueline began to grow 
anxious-not because of her fears themselves, but because she had never 
before been subjected to such self-doubt and so deep an analysis of her 
feelings and the feelings of other people. 

At this point Mona's voice broke into her thoughts; "While you were 
sleeping, I had a wonderful idea, Jacqueline. A new variation on our little 
game ... " 

She leaned across Caine's body and put her hand softly on Jacqueline's 
waist. "We thought it might be rather exciting to pretend that he has come 
here to buy a slave!" she went on, her voice slowly exciting Jacqueline, not 
so much by what she was saying as by the sensuous purr in the woman's tone. 
It was soft and low, confidential and arousing. 

"He would have to examine her very thoroughly, of course," Mona continued. 
"And it would be my job to see that all her good qualities are pointed out 
to him!" 

So I'm to be the one this time Jacqueline thought with a trace of 
bitterness. Why shouldn't she have to do it? It's her husband and if she 
loved me so much she wouldn't make me do it with him! 

"What do you think of the idea, darling?" Mona's voice cut seductively 
through the room. "Don't you think it's going to be exciting?" 

"Y-yes, I-I suppose s-so," the young girl answered hesitantly. She knew that 
after experiencing the softness and gentle understanding of a woman like 
Mona that the harsh touch of a man ravishing her body might repel her, but 
there was nothing she could do about it now! 

It was too late! 

She had been seduced by this woman in spite of her foreboding fears of what 
it would lead to and now she had to take what came from it no matter how it 
repelled her. Perhaps, once they had started she could find some way of 
ensuring that she received a fair share of Mona's attentions. 

"Come on then," the older woman said eagerly, "let's get started!" 

Jacqueline, with a sense of dread coursing through her as she saw the 
blatant look of lust in Caine's eyes, allowed herself to be pulled playfully 
from the bed by Mona. She led her to their places by the dressing table 
where the mirror reflected the total sensuality of their alluring bodies, 
giving Caine a view of them from the front as well as the back. 

Mona re-adjusted their single, skimpy garments, pulling the silk scarves 
around so that they hung seductively down over their loins. Then she cleared 
her throat to begin the proceedings and Jacqueline cringed slightly though 
she had promised herself she would not show her revulsion of the coming 
contact with her feminine lover's husband. 

"May I interest you in this beautiful young girl, sire?" Mona purred at her 
husband, putting a wisp of erotic promise into her voice. "As you can see, 
she is very attractive and her figure is one of the most well developed you 
will ever find." 

Then, with the expertise of a long experienced madame, Mona cupped her hand 
gently beneath the young, quivering girl's left breast and raised the firm, 
white mound for her husband's inspection. 

Jacqueline almost swooned and closed her eyes tightly shut as he got off the 
bed in a slow, lazy movement and walked over to stop directly in front of 
them. 

She felt Mona raise her young, sensitive breast slightly higher and at the 
same time brush the nail of her forefinger lewdly across the involuntarily 
hardening nipple. Again, in spite of her sudden unexplainable fear of Caine 
and what he was going to do to her, she could feel it swelling quickly as 
the woman's finger moved backwards and forwards, deliberately coaxing and 
kneading it to an impertinent erectness. 

Caine leered down, bringing his eyes to within a few inches of the girl's 
rising nipples. 

"Hmmm, not bad," he commented as matter-of-factly as he could under the 
circumstances. "Work on the other for awhile, dear. I'm partial to young 
tits and I want to be certain they're both equally as nice." 

Keeping one hand where she had it on the left breast, Mona slithered 
obediently around behind Jacqueline and slipped her other hand beneath her 
armpit, around her body and slowly teased the second nipple until it too 
rose into a magnificent hardness. 

Then, she slowed her teasing and allowed both the firm, supple mounds of 
white flesh to rest softly in her hands for her husband to judge their size 
and shape. 

Unable to keep from touching the sensuous offering inches in front of him, 
he reached his fingers up and while his wife continued to hold the 
milky-white orbs steady, rubbed them for long minutes across the sensitive, 
erected nipples. 

"Aren't they beautiful, sire," Caine's wife breathed, still holding to the 
rules of the obscene game they were playing with the young, helpless girl's 
body. She let the warm, flaccid flesh jiggle slightly in her hands. "Please 
feel them more completely yourself. I'm quite certain you'll be satisfied." 

Caine, without further prodding, held them firmly, turning them this way and 
that ... lifting them high and then letting them fall back into position 
again. A slight curl of satisfaction rippled over his wife's lips as she 
watched the hot flame of desire sifting adamantly through his eyes. There 
would be no stopping him now, she thought, with a slight tinge of jealousy 
rippling through her even though she knew it was still the only way she 
would ever regain him completely. 

"I must admit, they're excellent specimens!" he commented at last. "But, I 
shall want to take a good look at the rest of her before I make up my mind." 

"Of course, sire," Mona continued the game. 

All this time, Jacqueline had remained quite still, her eyes staring 
impassively over Caine's shoulder. She permitted Mona to turn her around, 
obediently facing the mirror and allowing them to inspect her from the rear. 
Her arms rested limply at her sides in abject acceptance that she would have 
to endure this humiliation by the man in order to please her female lover. 

"See how shapely her shoulders are?" Caine's wife asked. "Look at the 
smoothness of her skin! And her back, see how firm and straight it is!" 

Illustrating her praise of the young, now servile girl, the woman put her 
hands on her shoulders and let them run intimately down the flesh of her 
sides. When her fingers reached her buttocks she slid them warmly over the 
full, firm curves and cupped them possessively. 

"And her buttocks!" she exclaimed. "Have you ever seen such beautifully 
shaped cheeks in your life?" 

"Let me see," Mona's husband breathed heavily, his eyes glued to the soft, 
white flesh of the young girl's body. He dropped to his haunches directly 
behind her, his face on an even plane with her firm, full buttocks. He 
studied them momentarily from every possible angle, taking hold of one of 
the cheeks and with his wife's help, slowly pressed them apart so that he 
could see the naked privacy of her tiny, puckered anus. 

Jacqueline submissively kept her muscles relaxed even though the obscene 
thought of a strange man peering so intently into her secret parts sent 
quivers of fear and repulsion racing through her young, innocent body. Caine 
motioned to his wife to keep the soft, resilient cheeks spread wide and she 
willingly leaned over and did so, one hand on each side now, thumbs beneath 
the full, luscious swell of each one of them, insuring that he had the 
completest possible view of her untouched, rear orifice. 

He fixed his lust-dimmed eyes intently on the tiny pursed hole studying the 
dozens of tiny little wrinkles surrounding its entrance. And then, as though 
he were fingering the softest and most precious of silks he reached out and 
touched it with the tip of his finger. 

"Oooooh, please don't," the young bending girl pleaded, a new inflection of 
foreboding apparent in her voice. 

"Be quiet, my dear," Mona crooned from next to her. "He won't hurt you. He's 
a master at this." 

"Oooooh, but he will hurt me, I know he will!" she whimpered, the fright 
increasing in her voice. "Please don't let him do that to me!" 

"Now just relax, dear. Remember, we agreed to play the game," Mona crooned 
on next to her. "Just relax and bend forward a little more." 

A slight smile curled across her lips as she felt the girl hesitantly but 
obediently loosening her buttocks and slipping her torso down into a more 
subservient position. 

Caine's finger, feeling the abject surrender on the part of the girl probed 
experimentally at the tiny, cringing opening. It was dry and resisting to 
his pressure and he withdrew his finger and wet it with the tip of his 
tongue as all the while his wife kept the full, ripe melons of her buttocks 
spread wide apart. 

He began to probe again as the girl squirmed her hips in slight protest to 
the lewd touching of her rectum, but then, with a sudden change of mind he 
rose to his feet again, letting his thick, erect cock rub firmly into the 
crevice of Jacqueline's upturned behind. 

"Mmmmm, yes," he stated perfunctorily, the growing impatience to get at the 
young girl apparent in the husky tone in his voice. "I'll get to that later. 
Put her on the bed now and let me see her cunt." 

"All right, dear," his wife answered obediently. "Go to the bed and lie down 
now," she said softly to the girl. "He wants to see between your legs." 

In docile acceptance, Jacqueline moved to the bed and stretched herself 
hesitantly out, letting her thighs fall loosely open. 

"Wider, my dear, spread them wider so he can see," Mona implored in a soft 
hypnotizing tone and grasping the reclining girl's ankles, pressed them 
slowly apart until her heels almost touched either side of the bed. "There, 
there, that's better. Now let me push the scarf away and he can see you 
perfectly." 

The older woman curled up beside her on the bed and slowly raised the silken 
fringe away from the young girl's loins while her husband's eyes ran over 
her nakedness with undisguised lust registered deep inside of them. His 
anxious penis bulged hard up in front of his stomach, swinging menacingly 
each time he moved, its head red and thick from the sight of the voluptuous 
young girl's nude body stretched before him. 

His passion-bloated cock jerked harder as he watched with bated breath. His 
wife stroked the soft, sparse fleece of golden pubic hair into flatness and 
then, with the tips of her fingers, spread the young, fleshy lips of her 
vagina open wide. 

"There, my darling," she crooned seductively up at her wide-mouthed husband, 
"it's all yours for the taking. And it's nice and tight too. It hasn't been 
used much, I can tell." 

Mona's eyes glistened with a strange, obscene delight as she watched the 
lewd effect it was having on her husband standing at the end of the bed. She 
knew now that it was too late for him to change his mind. She had him right 
where she wanted him ... after all, he thought it was his own idea, at least 
part of it. 

"Spread your legs a little more, dear, he can't see all of you." 

Jacqueline hesitantly spread her legs wider, a sudden tear of shame coursing 
down the softness of her cheek. She hadn't expected to be exposed and 
humiliated in front of Mona's husband to this degree. She had thought it 
would be quick and over with before she would have time to think ... but ... 
she could see now that Mona had had other plans and was just using her as a 
stimulant to get her husband back! 

"Wider, dear," the older woman suddenly said, a coldness that had not been 
apparent before coming into her voice. She grabbed her knees impatiently and 
pressed them sharply apart, bringing a hopeless cry of protest from the 
young helpless girl and exposing more clearly the naked raw slit of the 
tiny, tight vagina nestled between her legs. 

"Don't cry, dear. He's going to fuck you nicely. It's not as though he were 
some stranger. I'm going to be here with you all the time." 

Mona could hear the heaviness of her husband's breathing as he stood at the 
end of the bed, his eyes wide agape at the sensuous torture of the young 
girl squirming beneath the hands of his own wife. She smiled up at him again 
as she spoke: 

"You want to fuck her, don't you, darling? Look at that soft, pink opening. 
I can feel it getting excited and wet for you. It's going to open like a 
flower in just a moment and you can split it as wide as you want to with 
that huge, wonderful cock of yours." 

Jacqueline had clenched her eyes tightly shut and could hear Mona's lewd 
invitation to her husband. Lying with her legs apart this way, she felt more 
naked and ashamed than she ever had before in her young life. She didn't try 
to stop the tears rolling down her cheeks and she could feel her heart 
pounding in her temples with a strange and unknown mixture of obscene and 
weird feeling. A hot smoldering coal burned deep in her belly, turning the 
insides of her thighs and her crotch hot and moist. She could feel Mona's 
husband's eyes burning into the bare, naked flesh of her lewdly exposed 
vagina. She was still just a child but her senses told her that there was no 
escape now from the ravishment the older woman had planned for her. There 
was no way out and all that was left for her was to lie here with her legs 
spread wide and yield with a horrible and unavoidable shame to his filthy 
use of her body. 

"Ooooooh! Oooooooooh! Don't, please don't" she cried out suddenly. The touch 
of Mona's fingers brushing against the fleshy lips of her cunt jerked her 
from her tortuous thoughts. 

"Mmmmm, she's getting very sensitive, darling. She'll be a very good screw 
for you in just another few seconds. I can feel her getting hotter and 
hotter for you." 

The older woman's soft, manipulating fingers pursued her and in spite of her 
fear and humiliation, Jacqueline forced herself to lie still. Oh God, she 
had to get it over with and maybe it would be over sooner if she didn't try 
to resist. Slowly, as though they were tiny writhing snakes, the fingers 
insinuated themselves expertly inside her, hurting slightly at first so that 
she clenched her teeth tightly together and moaned beneath their lewd 
attack. And then, they were curling themselves around inside her, playing 
with her small bud-like clitoris while the other hand cupped her buttocks 
tightly beneath and pushed them up toward the maddenly probing fingers. 

"It feels good, doesn't it, my dearest? Tell Mona about it. Tell her how 
good it feels to have my fingers in your pussy this way." 

Caine groaned at the end of the bed and Jacqueline who had closed her eyes 
to shut out the sight of his leering face, opened them again and saw the 
lustful grimace of his lips and the great menacing hardness of his cock that 
stood out like a huge pole from the forest of pubic hair surrounding it. 

Then, she groaned again, twisting her hips down against the hand holding her 
buttocks as the fingers worked cruelly and relentlessly on her clitoris. Her 
eyes clenched tightly shut again to close out the sight of the man watching 
her humiliation at the foot of the bed. Her whole body could feel the heat 
of the flame that had begun so long ago in the pit of her belly and in spite 
of herself her vagina was moistening. She could feel the tips of Mona's 
fingers slipping wetly now against the smooth slippery cunt walls deep 
inside her. 

Then ... suddenly without warning ... she rammed them up, through the tight 
ring of soft, giving flesh, two of them deeper still into the warm, wet 
cavern beyond. The young girl screamed helplessly, her legs kicking out to 
the side and tried to pull her buttocks away but Mona's hand beneath them 
held firm and she was hopelessly impaled on the relentlessly pursuing 
fingers. 

"Tell me, dear, how good it feels," Mona prodded again, taking lewd delight 
in the teasing of the girl before her husband. Her lips twisted into a 
strange sensuousness that Caine had never seen on them before but there was 
nothing he could do-his entire body ached from the sight of the spectacle 
going on in front of him-he had to have that girl that Mona his wife had 
elected to represent in her vengeance, all the others he had had while she 
had waited hopelessly at home night after night for him to come to her. 

But, he couldn't stand it much longer. 

"Ooooooh, yesss, yesss," the humiliating words of surrender hissed slowly 
from between Jacqueline's tightly clenched teeth. 

"She's almost ready, darling," Mona crooned up at her husband. "She'll be 
yours to fuck as you like in just a moment." 

Jacqueline opened her lips, a soft groan of final acceptance of the 
hopelessness of her position drifting piteously out. She was repulsed at the 
betrayal of her body and yet at the same time there was some perverse thrill 
in the shame and humiliation of being treated as some tramp off the street 
this way. Mona's fingers had drifted back to her clitoris and she fought 
with all her strength against the urge to undulate her hips in rhythm with 
the gentle, sensuous caressing of her genitals. 

And then, the dam burst! 

The maddening probe of the fingers slipping wetly between her legs, the soft 
voice of Mona whispering obscenities to her and the lewd, lustful eyes of 
her husband roving over her naked, passion filled body were too much. And 
even though she knew now she was just being used, she suddenly wanted deep 
down inside to wallow in the mire of filth and shame with them! ... She 
wanted to be fucked by that strange man she had seen naked for the first 
time a few short hours ago! Fucked until she could never feel again! ... 
fucked until her mind ceased to function! 

Why not!-raced through her tortured young brain-Why not! 

Her legs began to gently slither against the sheet of the bed, upwards, 
outwards, ever away from her hot, moist vagina until she felt a great open 
cavern there between her wide-splayed legs. A cavern that had to be filled, 
had to be fucked and she didn't care how, or by whom, or with what! Just so 
it happens! And quick! 

She felt the mattress give below her as Caine dropped to the foot of the bed 
on his knees, his giant, pulsating cock held tightly in his hands. 

"Yes, my darling," Mona crooned on. "She's opening wide inside. She's 
beginning to like it. I told you she would be ready in a moment." 

"Damn," her husband muttered beneath his breath. "Damn!" 

Jacqueline made one last attempt at controlling herself, feeling again the 
ripples of shame coursing through her at the obscene delight she was giving 
the searching eyes roving over her squirming, naked body. But, it was 
hopeless as it had been before. Her cunt felt open and longing, her belly 
throbbed in desire. Her buttocks began to strain down together on the hand 
that was cupped under them, her thighs to jack-knife and squirm. Small mewls 
of pleasure began to trickle involuntarily from her lips, her mouth opening 
and closing fish-like in time to the sensuous contractions of her vagina 
around the ever probing fingers. Every touch, every sensation only added 
more to her desire. She was too far gone now to fight against anything they 
wanted to do to her. 

"She's wet, very wet, darling," Mona murmured to her husband kneeling on the 
bed. "I think she's ready for you. Come my love ... " 

And ... as Jacqueline's young, defenseless body writhed helplessly beneath 
her driving fingers, Mona reached back and put her hand warmly around her 
husband's cock. Gripping it tightly, she indicated by a slight motion of her 
head that he was to ram it deep inside the almost cowering girl. He crawled 
quickly between her wide-spread legs and in a moment was stretched full 
length on top of her small, naked body. 

Then, without hesitation, his wife guided his pulsating penis straight up 
into the tight, wet vagina between the girl's sensuously writhing thighs. 
Her own head rested a few short inches away long the inner softness of her 
out-flung leg as she watched with a sadistic delight the huge, throbbing 
head gently part the soft, blonde pubic hair and push the lips of her tiny, 
tight cunt-lips wide apart. There was a slight moment of hesitation as it 
stood poised for the ultimate entry and then with a quick flick of the hips, 
her husband drove his cock forward and it slipped moistly inside, bringing a 
gasp from the tortured lips of the squirming girl. Her cunt flowered, 
swallowing the first several inches of him like a hungry animal. 

"Oooooh, Oooooooh," she moaned as he ground deeper and deeper into her as 
though he were trying to reach the very depths of her womb. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," she chanted on as he slipped farther and farther 
inside, pushing the soft, fleshy walls of her tight, clasping pussy before 
him as though it were warm, soft butter. Deeper and deeper it went, the 
helplessly squirming girl trying with all her strength to twist her buttocks 
down and away but the still cupped hand of Mona held her hard beneath the 
twin cheeks of her ass and pushed up until suddenly with an animal-like 
grunt Caine hit bottom. The smack of his pelvis smashing cruelly into hers 
and the soft slap of his testicles against the wide-split crevice of her 
anus resounded through the room as though she had been hit with a paddle. 

"Ooooh God, you're too deep, you're too deep," she whimpered beneath him, 
her eyes clenched tightly shut in a vain attempt to lessen the sudden pain. 

"Aaaaaaah," then she breathed easier, as he withdrew slightly so that a few 
inches of his round, throbbing cock protruded naked and white from the 
depths of her vagina. 

Mona's eyes bulged at the sudden and obscene sight of her husband's penis 
sunk half-way inside the tiny, moist slit of Jacqueline's vagina. Her own 
control that had been so well guarded during the first part of the seduction 
began to slip and her lips began to softly nibble and kiss at the inside of 
the girl's out-thrown thigh. Gradually, her mouth moved closer and closer to 
the spot where the couple's genitals were grinding ever so slowly together 
... until suddenly, she opened her lips to their fullest extent and closed 
them around the base of her husband's cock. Her tongue snaked out and as he 
began a slow in and out movement into the girl's warm, throbbing vagina, she 
licked wetly along the smooth, glistening underside as it drove steadily in 
and out. At the same time, her full red lips were making intimate contact 
with the stretched oval-shaped lips of Jacqueline's cock-filled pussy. 

It didn't take long. 

The young girl's hips were forcing themselves up and up wildly, as Caine's 
cock pistoned deeper and deeper inside her, working hard and firm deep in 
her soft, passion quivering belly. She could feel Mona's tongue swirling 
serpent-like madly around the rough pink edges of her vagina and her loins 
were squirming down in her hand still placed firmly under her buttocks. And 
then ... then she had one last coherent thought that all this was 
disgusting, horrible, something she couldn't believe was happening to her. 
Her eyes flickered open momentarily and she realized that her flesh and 
endless planes of other flesh were all over the place; legs, buttocks, 
breasts flailing the air in an endless orgy of lust and abandon. 

"Oh God, I'm lost, I'm lost," ran hazily through her dazed mind. But, there 
was nothing she could do about it. The growing pressure in her naked loins 
was driving her almost insane. She could hear a faraway voice that seemed to 
be mumbling from beneath her thrusting buttocks. A voice that was murmuring 
horrible lewd things that only served to incite her to greater excitement. 

"Give it to her, Caine. Fuck her harder, darling, fuck her harder!" the 
voice droned on between moist, wet, mewling noises that it seemed to be 
almost choking on. 

And then it did come! And there was nothing she could do about it or 
anything she wanted to do about it! 

She was lost, completely lost. There was no longer any shame or humiliation 
or anything else, only a vague awareness that where shame should be was an 
overpowering desire to reach that ultimate pinnacle, the pinnacle that was 
coming ... coming ... coming, vagina clenching, ... bursting ... juices 
flowing ... hips grinding wildly ... wildly ... wildly ... Ooooooooh! 

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh," and on and on it came, in a wonderful flowing relief 
as her eyes clenched tightly shut again in bliss, shutting out Mona, her 
husband and all the shame and humiliation that played no part in this 
beautiful moment of ultimate sensation. 

"Don't stop," she pleaded. "Don't stop!" 

And at that, he rammed it deep down inside her soft white belly, his cock 
spurting great white gushes of hot sperm into her that seemed to fill her 
womb beyond all capacity. The giant throbbing head ground around far up 
inside her making her scream as though the walls of her vagina were being 
swept away by the thick, hot tide of his orgasm. 

"Go on! ... Go on!" she panted in the helpless throes of her own cataclysmic 
explosion. "Fill me, drown me. Give it to meeeeeee!" 

And then there was a final rushing, like the roar of a jet in her ears and 
the ceiling dancing above her wide bulging eyes seemed to be falling around 
her with a great roaring crash that echoed through the room like an 
exploding volcano. She screamed at the top of her lungs never wanting it 
stop, never wanting it to end. 

But finally it did. 

* * * 

When it was finally over and she lay gasping and slowly recovering, his 
great wet load laying heavy in her soft, white belly, she could hear next to 
her on the bed the soft mewling sounds of Mona's lips slowly working her 
husband back to rigidity again. 

"You can take her again, darling," she crooned around his penis that loosely 
filled her mouth. "Remember what you've always wanted to do to me and I've 
never let you? You can do it to her. There, there you're hard again, my 
darling and she's waiting." 

The words made no sense to Jacqueline's satiated mind until suddenly through 
the haze of her fatigue she felt hands again on her body turning her slowly 
over on her stomach. 

She didn't try to resist. 

All objections to anything they might try to do to her seemed to have been 
drained out of her with the intensity of the unwanted orgasm she had just 
experienced. 

Soft, wet lips coursed down over her smooth, oval buttocks bringing small 
goose bumps along with them. Thumbs spread the soft, white cheeks apart and 
a tongue snaked down to lick the crevice between them. She could feel the 
pressure on her rectum as the skin was gently kneaded around it. 

She moaned helplessly down into the pillow, feeling obscenely naked with 
Mona and her husband hovering on their knees behind her, but it didn't 
matter any longer. Nothing mattered; the humiliation, the shame, all had 
disappeared like smoke into the hot, close air of the room with the final, 
indescribable explosion of the orgasm a few short moments before. 

"Open your legs, dear," Mona whispered softly behind her. Her voice coming 
in a murmur against the whiteness of Jacqueline's flesh. 

Without thinking or caring she spread them out so that the toes of her feet 
hung over each side of the bed. A finger touched her anus bringing a deeper 
moan from her throat. She squirmed her loins down into the mattress to ward 
off the sudden but not unexpected intrusion but it persisted, until suddenly 
with a slight pop, it slipped wetly inside. She groaned again, but not from 
pain. In fact it was surprisingly pleasant as it began moving around lewdly 
in her rectum, expanding the tiny, tight passage more and more with each 
teasing circle it made inside her. She squirmed her hips obscenely, taking a 
perverse satisfaction in the effect it must be having on Mona's husband. She 
vaguely found herself wondering whose finger it was. Was it his or Mona's? 
And then, as though in answer to her question a voice broke through the 
heavy sounds of breathing behind her. 

"Let me put one of mine in too, darling. I want to feel her inside there." 

It was Mona and she could feel another finger digging at her rectum and then 
slipping inside with the other one. 

"Aaaaaagh!" she could not hold back the scream. It hurt and she tried to 
jerk away but a heavy hand pressed into the small of her back and held her 
down like a mounted butterfly. The fingers dug tight into her rectum for a 
moment and then began to rotate slowly together. She squirmed her behind 
salaciously, the pain gradually lessening as the roving fingers slowly and 
deliberately stretched her anus wider. It was a strange and new feeling, one 
that she had never experienced before and hurt slightly as now and then a 
nail brushed against the warm, rubbery walls of her rectum, but the pleasure 
was greater than the pain and suddenly she found herself wanting him there. 
The weird subjugation excited her and she found herself pushing back against 
the probing hands until she could feel the fingers all the way inside her, 
the palms of the hands pressed flat against the soft, flaccid cheeks of her 
buttocks. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and heard her own muffled voice 
crying down into the pillow. 

"Do it to me there," she groaned. "I want it in me." 

"What do you want him to do to you, my dearest?" she heard Mona's soft, 
crooning whisper behind her. 

"I-I want him to fuck me. Please, oh please," her own voice sounded like 
something unearthly that she had never heard before-a banshee in torment in 
the depths of hell-something inhuman and faraway-but the hot, smoldering 
want wasn't faraway-It was here and now and there was nothing she could do 
about it. The fires of desire had risen once more where she thought they 
could never rise again after the orgasm she had gone through such a short 
time ago. 

"Where do you want him to fuck you, my dearest?" Mona's words tormented 
Jacqueline as though she were attempting to drain the last grain of 
self-respect left in her. The desperately squirming girl, paused for a 
moment and then, her will power completely gone, she whimpered down into the 
pillow: 

"In my ass, fuck me in the ass, Oh dear God, Please do it now-NOW! 

"You hear, darling. She wants it. She wants you to fuck her there. Give it 
to her, dear. Give it to her good." The softness of Mona's coaxing voice 
belied the slight sadistic gleam in her eyes as she watched their fingers 
slowly slipping from the poor young girl's plundered rectum. They seemed to 
come out reluctantly, the tight rubbery skin of her anus clinging to them 
until suddenly they popped out with a slight, obscene sucking noise. 

Caine's eager body dropped down on her back, his loins pressed tightly into 
the crevice of her buttocks. His hardened cock lying the full length of it, 
the head brushing heavily against the lips of her still wet vagina. 

"Make her kneel up, darling. You can watch it go in that way." His wife 
breathed heavily. 

"Kneel up," he commanded with Mona's prodding. 

Jacqueline shivered but obediently followed his command and crawled to her 
knees, presenting him with the stretched melons of her buttocks bending away 
in front of him. 

His hands greedily clasped the tops of her thighs where they joined her hips 
and he pulled her farther back towards his lust-hardened penis. His wife, 
lying on her side beside them thrust her hand between them and grasping her 
husband's cock securely between her fingers, guided it with unerring 
accuracy toward the small, tight aperture of the young girl's naked rectum. 

"Mmmmm, I'll put it in for you, darling. It's going to feel so good. Look 
how small and tight she looks," she whispered huskily. It was apparent the 
coming moment was exciting her again also. 

Caine strained forward, the salacious sight of the young girl bending before 
him like a slave destroying his impatience. A groan erupted from his open 
mouth as he felt the first wrinkled, velvet contact of her anus pressing 
lightly against the smooth, sensitive head of his aching cock. 

Beneath him, Jacqueline could feel it prodding and working against her anus. 

Oh God, it was big! Too big! Much bigger than the two fingers that had tried 
to prepare her for this greater and more cruel entry. 

"Ooooooooh!" She moaned, the pillow now clenched tightly between her teeth 
in a hopeless attempt to ease the pain. "I can't!" she whimpered. "I just 
can't!" 

"Yes, you can, my little darling." Mona's soothing voice droned behind her. 
"Open a little wider for him. You can take it." 

Now the tip had found the tightness of the dark puckered ring of soft, 
giving flesh and was worming its way into it. It was going! ... it was 
going! 

"Aaaaaaah, GOD!" 

She felt as though a giant log were trying to burst into her body and she 
tried to lean forward away from it, but his hands gripped tighter around the 
front of her thighs and he held her. 

"Ooooh noooo! It hurts, it hurts!" she cried. "It's too big, I can't take 
it. I can't take IT!" 

But there was no escape from the relentlessly probing instrument. His pelvis 
jerked forward, the muscles standing out on his thighs like steel bands. 

"Hold her! Hold her, it's going in!" he grunted at his wife who had now 
taken a firm grip on the young girl's shoulders. 

Jacqueline's body was now one great blotch of searing, excruciating pain. 
Her mind was blank-her thoughts would not come and suddenly, she had to get 
it over with and as though she had gone insane, she bucked hard back against 
him. Her ass opened wide, like the wings of a giant flood-gate before a 
crashing tide. His cock surged deep and hard, far up into her rectum until 
suddenly with another grunt his pelvis smacked hard against the soft, 
resilient cheeks of her buttocks, flattening them against his belly like 
pliant foam rubber. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she gasped, feeling through the fire of the pain, his 
testicles swinging lewdly down against the open slit of her vagina. 

There was no more to go!!!! 

It was like having a great metal tube implanted deep in her rectum, holding 
the warm, rubbery walls stretched miles apart. 

It was no good! 

She couldn't go through with it. Her buttocks writhed away from the cruel 
impalement in a renewed attempt to escape, but the hands at her thighs and 
on her shoulders again exerted their strength and held her immobile. And 
then a hand left her shoulder, Mona's hand and snaked cunningly around her 
hip and under her kneeling body. She stopped squirming for the briefest of 
moments and another fire, this time not of pain, seared down between her 
thighs. With a sudden sharp shock she felt the older woman's fingers 
massaging her clitoris which leaped involuntarily to erection. At the same 
time, gasping and moaning with delight, Caine began to thrust his massive 
cock rhythmically and without the slightest mercy deep into the soft 
confines of her rectum. 

And ... in that sudden unexplainable moment, with his hard, throbbing cock 
stabbing mercilessly back between the fleshy cheeks of her ass and Mona's 
fingers deftly teasing the pleasure from her clitoris below, she wanted to 
give, she wanted to yield up all she had, her cunt, her mouth, her anus, all 
she had, in an ultimate sacrifice for all they were doing for her-and to 
her! 

"Oooooooh, give it to me, fuck my ass, fuck me there, do it to me." 
Obscenities that had never before come to her mind spewed from her lips in a 
lewd torrent of meaningless words. She strained as if she were trying to 
swallow him whole, pushing the whole of her round firm buttocks back at him. 
And he was there, ramming it to her as though he had never had a woman in 
his entire life. He was sliding in and out easily now, with grunts and moans 
and murmurs of passion which seemed to make him inhuman. The whole of her 
rectum felt wet and wide and her buttocks and vagina with the finger 
stroking there were hot and tingling with a strange new joy she hadn't 
dreamed existed before. 

She clenched her muscles tight, pressing her loins down toward the swaying 
mattress, straining, enveloping his pulsating cock so tightly that for a 
moment he found it difficult to move inside her at all. Then, to the tune of 
the finger teasing hotly over her clitoris, she relaxed and the brutal, yet 
delicious, rhythm began again in perfect time to Mona's husband's moans and 
her own stifled groans down into the pillow. 

"Oh yes, oh yes!" she panted, crushing her face and the heat of her lips 
down into the bed. 

She knew she was completely helpless and there was fear but there was also 
joy. This man, this husband of Mona, who hardly knew her, who had only once 
fucked her in the natural way, was impaling her from behind, had crushed his 
way so deep into her rectum and belly that she could not escape even if she 
had wanted to until he had finished with her, until he had emptied his lewd, 
load of sperm deep up in her bowels as though he had owned her. And yet ... 
she didn't want to escape, she didn't want to be anywhere else, doing 
anything else. She just wanted to take all he had to give and in taking she 
would give him all in return. 

She was aware vaguely that Mona's hands had left her body and that she was 
reclining beside them, not touching, just watching, a strange glint of 
satisfaction twinkling deep in her eyes. And then she was forgotten. The 
furious movement behind her was growing like a wildfire out of control. 

She could feel the heat of his eyes gazing down on her naked buttocks, 
watching his cock sucking out of her and then plunging in again. She could 
imagine the pink, reddish skin of her asshole drawing back with his prick as 
if it didn't want him to come out and then disappearing back inside again in 
an obscene disappearance into this other hole where he had never fucked 
another woman before. 

"Fuck her good, darling. Give her all you've got," she dimly heard Mona 
saying across the miles that separated them on the bed and then Caine came 
at her with a renewed fury, like a wild, rapacious stallion. 

His eyes dimmed from the fury of his attack and he watched his white, hot 
cock disappearing all the way up her ass with every stroke. It went all the 
way in so that the hair of his loins pressed flat into the wide-open crevice 
that split her buttocks like some ripe, succulent fruit. He rotated it 
around deep inside her until it felt as though he were gouging the walls of 
her rectum away each time he surged into her and she herself was moaning and 
adding to his pleasure by the lewd, lascivious movements of her ass and the 
hollowing of her back. Her long blonde hair fell over her face and whipped 
around her neck as she writhed and twisted in front of him and he could see 
her face, flushed crimson, as the hair flashed momentarily away from it. He 
had her. She belonged to him. A slave to use as he wanted, to do with as he 
wished and he did, ramming his cock deep in her rectum and leaving it there, 
listening to her groans of half pain, half pleasure, while he ground it 
around deep, deep inside her white, quivering belly. 

"Ooooh, oooooh, ooooh," she panted, her lips bared back tight over her 
teeth. 

His hands roved over her buttocks like loving butterflies and then he would 
seize them savagely, raking deep red marks of blood beneath the surface of 
their smooth, white flesh. 

"Oh, you bitch, you hot little bitch," he hissed down at her between his 
clenched teeth while all the while his wife's lust dimmed eyes stayed glued 
to his giant, blood-filled cock as it mercilessly skewered in and out of her 
tight, clasping anus. 

Then as he fucked her asshole she began to moan and twist, pressing back at 
him as if she adored every second of his lewd, obscene rape. His eyes stayed 
locked on the undulating whiteness of the hollowing moons and every time he 
rammed into her he slapped his belly against them in a savage determination 
to plunge as deep as possible. He could cum into her now whenever he chose 
and he wanted more than anything else in the world to feel that wild rush of 
sperm into her rectum that would signal her ultimate humiliation and 
submission. 

He moved his hands up to her waist, gripping them with an almost maniacal 
fury, so that she squirmed and bucked more on the end of his impalement. He 
leaned forward with all his weight and the upper half of her body flattened 
out on the mattress, her head crushing down into the pillow. His cock felt 
as though it were swollen and bloated to several times its size and her 
rectum was slippery now and stretched more than in the beginning but it was 
still tight enough to suck at him on the withdrawal as though reluctant to 
let him go. 

His loins were a hot mass of raw lust and he knew he could not hold back 
much longer before he spewed his hot load of thick, white semen far up into 
her rectum and he wanted to get everything he could out of it. 

"Ooooh, God," he heard her gasp as a particularly brutal thrust gouged deep 
inside her. The soft, pumping cheeks of her buttocks were hot as they 
smacked against his pelvis on the forward stroke and all at once he became 
more aware of her gasping cries as he skewered even deeper into her. Her 
buttocks hollowed and flattened to an even greater degree and he could feel 
a blazing fire in his loins which gathered and began to surge toward the 
tingling end of his pistoning cock. It grew and grew like the rising 
crescendo of a thousand piece symphony; lewd, obscene images crowded his 
mind: twisted face, driving cock, grinding buttocks: 

And then ... then it was there! 

He rammed it into her with a buttock-flattening jerk up to his pubic hair, 
the elastic rim of her anus clinging around the base of his cock like a 
broad, tight rubber band. His cock jerked uncontrollably and with a scream 
he flooded into her ass. The hot thick, cum spurted into her in wave after 
wave of excruciating ecstasy filling her rectum and belly almost to the 
bursting point as he rammed harder with each fresh spurt, throwing back his 
head, baring his teeth as the whole of his scrotum was emptied deep, deep 
inside her. His last view was of her ass swirling and swaying under him as 
she urged him through his final convulsions of passion and drew the last 
eager drop of hot, lewd sperm from his satiated cock. His chest dropped 
heavily across her back and then they were still. 

* * * 

Some minutes later he withdrew his deflated penis from her backside. It 
slipped wetly out with a slight sucking noise as though she had farted, thin 
trails of warm sticky sperm followed the tip of his cock out for several 
inches and then broke away, falling still intact across the trembling backs 
of her thighs. She rolled to her back, her eyes glazed and staring unseeing 
at the dim shadows on the ceiling. 

Jacqueline lay there for a few moments longer, her legs splayed lewdly out 
to the sides as she had fallen. Now that it was over, she felt a slight 
return of the feelings she had had before. There was an acute awareness of 
the ache at her anus and the sensation of a thick object being still lodged 
inside it and keeping it open and wide for all to see. There was a great 
wetness between her open thighs where he had dumped his load of sperm in 
both the entrances between her legs. He's only missed one place, she thought 
grimly and his wife has had that. 

She clenched her buttocks tightly together and relaxed them several times, 
feeling a deep sense of shame for letting herself be used this way. It was a 
grim awakening but it was true, they had only used her. A small tear 
trickled down her face as she thought back to the beginnings of all this and 
how it had seemed so natural-and now-now it left her with nothing. Well, she 
thought, as her eyes wandered to Caine and Mona who were pressed tightly 
together in a relaxed, satiated embrace beside her. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, it has done something for them. 

 CHAPTER 8 

The next morning, the silver and blue of the huge PanAm 707 jet became a 
black speck in the sky over San Francisco Bay. One of its passengers, a 
confused and hurt young girl, sat quietly crying as the plane began its long 
trip over the Polar cap to Sweden. 

* * * 

They watched as the train drew slowly to a halt. The doors of the Del Monte 
Express swung open and they craned their necks for the first glimpse of 
their daughter. Caine gripped Mona's arm. "There she is!" he cried, pointing 
to a pretty, dark-haired girl who stepped down and waved excitedly. 

She dropped her suitcase and came running eagerly towards them, arms flung 
wide. Caine caught her up and swung her around, kissing her cheek and 
laughing. 

"Anne!" Mona struggled to separate them, her hat knocked sideways as the 
trio embraced, reeling about the platform, arms about each other's necks. 
"Oh, it's so good to have you home again, darling! We've missed you so 
much!" 

Holding hands, Anne in the middle, they walked to the car. "There's so much 
to tell you, Mummy," the girl said. "It seems like ages since I went away 
... We've got two new teachers-oh and they're having a Parents' Day soon. 
You will be able to come, won't you?" 

She chattered incessantly, trying to talk to both of them at the same time. 
All the way home, Anne gossiped about what had happened during her term at 
school, while Caine and Mona exchanged amused glances over her head. 

She seemed to have grown up during her absence this time. The rather awkward 
schoolgirl who had left them three months ago in tears now looked remarkably 
self-possessed and assured. To his surprise, Caine felt a strong paternal 
pride in her. His daughter was an attractive, intelligent girl, he realized. 
It amazed him to think that he had hardly even noticed her before today ... 

After dinner, Anne went to bed early-tired by the journey and the excitement 
of the reunion with her parents. Caine and Mona listened to her footsteps 
disappearing up the stairs, then turned to each other. 

He kissed her affectionately and hugged her close to him. "I love you," he 
whispered and felt Mona's body strain against his. 

Linking arms, they went into the living room and sat on the couch in front 
of the fireplace. The lights were dimmed. 

Mona reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "No regrets, Caine?" she 
asked, looking up into his eyes. 

He returned the pressure of her fingers. "No regrets," he replied softly. 

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then Mona said: "You don't 
think we were too cruel to her, do you? She wouldn't do anything silly, 
like-" 

Caine put his hand quickly over her mouth. "Of course not, darling." He 
moved his fingers to her neck and caressed it gently. "She was very upset by 
what happened. Naturally-she would be, but she'll get over it. She's very 
young and soon she'll look back on it and be glad of the experience." 

Mona shook her head and looked doubtfully at him. "I wonder ... I don't 
think you knew her as well as I did, Caine. She was quite a highly-strung 
girl really. And I keep worrying that she might ... " 

"Darling!" Caine drew her face next to his and kissed her firmly on the 
mouth. "Honestly, we've got enough to do getting to know each other better, 
without concerning ourselves about a girl that only visited with us for 
three weeks!" 

"Come on, stop thinking about her so much. She's alright. Just be thankful 
it didn't turn out any other way. Think what we might have missed!" 

He kissed her again, then nestled her head against his shoulder, stroking 
the long black hair. Mona closed her eyes and wound her arms about his 
waist, snuggling as close as possible to her husband. She wished with all 
her heart that she hadn't stood by while Caine had deliberately told 
Jacqueline that she was nothing but a little tramp; a whore; a perverted 
cheap ... 

She tried to erase the memory of that horrible outburst but she knew that it 
would always be present in her mind. Why had he done it? There had been no 
necessity for him to be so cruel. 

And yet ... and yet it had given them both a completely clean break from 
her. She saw that that was the reason Caine had behaved so terribly. If he 
hadn't driven her away so effectively there would always be the slight doubt 
in their minds that Jacqueline might turn up again and threaten their 
new-found happiness. 

Only by rejecting her so savagely could they be quite sure that she would 
want nothing more to do with either of them ... ever ... 

And by remaining silent Mona had implicitly rejected her as violently as 
Caine. She understood that now. Even if she wanted to, she could never again 
enjoy Jacqueline's trust and affection-or her love. The incision that Caine 
had made with his words had been sharp and deep, but perhaps, in the long 
run, it would prove merciful ... 

She could only pray that Jacqueline would find some way to heal the wounds 
they had caused her. If she didn't-then they would be as guilty of her death 
as if they had plunged a knife into her ... 

Caine was squeezing her hand. She opened her eyes and he got up from the 
couch, drawing her with him. 

"Let's go up to bed, darling," he whispered. "I want to make the sweetest, 
gentlest love to you that I can ... " 

He led her to the foot of the stairs and they paused for a moment. The hall 
light sent their shadows racing ahead of them-twisted, dark, elongated 
shapes that seemed to stain the stair carpet a forbidding black. 

They walked quickly up to their bedroom, holding each other very tightly, a 
strange all pervading peace settling deep in their souls. No one else could 
ever, ever come between them again. After all, last night they had stood on 
the very, very top of the mountain together. 


THE END
