Coerced Into Swapping
by Ray Cameron
(WLP-101)


INTRODUCTION 

Young love may be passionately romantic, but in this jet age it is seldom 
realistic. Sadly, it seldom lasts. In recent years, the rate of divorce in 
some states, particularly California, where no grounds need to be 
established and people from other states flock in to get unhitched, exceeds 
the number of marriages. 

In this novel, author Ray Cameron relates in a frame of fiction the true 
life story of a girl who loved, lost, and finally came, through her own 
endurance, to find and accept a love that a few months before she couldn't 
have imagined. 

Julie Bourbon was only too glad to start modeling for her handsome young 
husband Russ to help him get started in his career. She knew nothing about 
the people behind the scenes, the manipulators ... or that Russ had 
mortgaged her to them. 

The very idea of oral sex shocked her, but in a state of terror and 
confusion she was skillfully guided into lesbian connections and taught the 
ancient art of love. 

The Publisher doesn't wish to suggest that there is anything unnatural about 
these practices. They have developed over the centuries, and in the 
countries of Europe and the Orient young girls are encouraged by their own 
mothers to take their lovers penis into their mouth, or in their anuses 
rather than their vaginas. 

Why? 

A girl can't get pregnant that way. 

For centuries, invading and raping men invaded from one country to another 
under a multitude of banners. No woman wants to bear the child of a raping 
soldier, so they learned over the centuries that oral or anal intercourse 
would satisfy the carnal lust of their conqueror ... and could also give 
them great sensual pleasure. 

This was passed down from mother to daughter. 

In America, which is a relatively young country, never defeated in war, 
never invaded since 1812, the situation is somewhat different. When the 
frontier was being pushed westward, there were only two kinds of women. The 
wives of the pioneers and the prostitutes, some of whom became very high in 
San Francisco society. 

But in general, a man heading West had to find an Indian girl and there were 
few of those as they fled with their various tribes. 

The hard-working pioneers read nothing but the Bible and they drilled it 
into the heads of their children, unto the fourth generation. 

Now those young people are exploding, and that's what this book's about. 
They are seeking the good, free life. No longer can they vent their spleen 
on the red man ... they can only throw rocks at Cadillacs and expend their 
frustration in sex, in any way that they can think of. 

Julie Bourbon is no revolutionary or hippie. She is a solid, hard-working 
girl who gets caught in a trap, but, while in the trap, she discovers 
herself. She finds that she's being used by her husband and others and, 
perhaps over-reacting, yields to other men and girls. . Eventually she finds 
and accepts her real self. 

What is her real self? 

You must read on to discover. 

-The Publisher 

 CHAPTER ONE 

To an exhausted Julie Bourbon, it seemed like Roman candles and star shells 
were exploding within the deep-burning orbs of her carefully made-up eyes. 
The lovely, long-legged blonde, who could have been a centerfold girl in 
Playboy or Penthouse whirled on cue, the short skirt of her light summer 
cocktail dress flaring wide, showing the smoothly rounded asscheeks barely 
covered by gossamer, lace-edged black panties while her unfettered breasts 
danced and jiggled under the bodice of a dress which, the manufacturer 
fervently hoped, would be a top seller in his fall line. 

He was a heavyset, balding New Yorker who wanted advertising and publicity 
shots for his next season made in frantic Las Vegas. As Julie flashed a 
smile which showed perfect white teeth framed by sensuous lips, the 
brilliant master strobe and slave-light units battered her aching brain with 
their millisecond flashes. 

"That's it, honey ... let's see lots of bod," the manufacturer said, wiping 
a glistening sheen of sweat from his jowling face. "Keep moving it around 
while Russ burns up a lot of film ... like you were swinging your tail in a 
discotheque! Aaaa! Beautiful!" 

Julie had a great urge to throw something, but there was nothing to be 
thrown ... and, anyway, the fat man didn't know he was being crude ... after 
all, he was from the garment district in New York. And she was sure he had 
no interest in her as a woman. Every time they broke the modeling session 
for a costume change of a cooling lemonade, he was quickly hanging tight to 
the slender, doe-eyed young man who was head designer for the line, who wore 
pink velvet flare slacks, platform shoes and a mauve shirt. Plus his hair 
hung halfway down his back and he had false eyelashes. 

So much for the garment business, the high-breasted, tiny-waisted model 
thought as she struck a series of poses and the motor-driven Canon F-l 
clicked away while the man who handled it crouched and, with the grace of a 
tiger, jumped up on chairs, dropped to his knees, lay on the floor, his eye 
never leaving the viewfinder of the camera. He was tall, with dark hair and 
a skin deeply tanned by the hot sun of Southern California and the Nevada 
desert. 

"Break!" he said curtly. "Got to change cameras and lenses." 

Julie's ripe bosom rose and fell as gratefully she stepped down from the 
posing stage and managed a smile for the young man, who was already 
unslinging the 35mm Canon and checking the settings on a Hasselblad. She 
smiled her thanks as the account executive from the small but energetic ad 
agency handed her a frosty glass. 

Sometimes it could be hell ... a dozen costume changes, being touched up 
with makeup which she would scrub off as soon as possible to show her clear 
pale golden skin. Hour after hour under the relentless glassy stare of the 
ever-present lenses. But at least she had a man, a talented young husband 
who worked just as hard as she did, if not more so. Russ Bourbon, the one 
with the cameras. Oh, the first few months had been anything but easy, being 
married just after he ended near the top of his class in the prestigious 
photo college at Santa Barbara and decided to set out on his own. 

Sipping the refreshing soft drink, Julie Bourbon reflected that all new 
marriages must have their problems. But of late she found herself becoming 
jealous of the blasted cameras. While she and Russ ate spaghetti or beans, 
unless the agency or clients wanted to take them out for a decent meal and a 
couple of drinks, the ambitious young photographer had over twenty thousand 
dollars invested in cameras, lenses, lights, filters, tripods and 
God-only-could-guess what else. The amount, when she saw it on their joint 
income-tax return, staggered her. 

And they were living in a one-room studio apartment and driving a junker car 
a dozen years old! It didn't seem fair! True, both were paid for the 
modeling sessions, and were beginning to get known as hard, competent and 
dependable free-lancers. 

There was only one real advantage from Julie's weary point of view. Once a 
shooting session was complete, she got to keep the clothes either for 
nothing or a very nominal price-there was one handmade dress of white lace 
with thousands of hand-sewn sequins which sold in the fancy stores for over 
a thousand dollars, and she had gotten it for twenty. She had a wardrobe 
which would make the wife of a multimillionaire turn green enviously. But 
not, she knew, because of the generosity of the manufacturer. Garments which 
had been pinned, pulled, twisted and perspired heavily in couldn't be shown 
to buyers. The rag game was highly selective. 

Oh, the tired young beauty knew that someday they'd make it together, that 
Russ would be successful. Yet there was a nagging worry beginning to form in 
her young mind. 

She was afraid he was on the road to impotence. 

Perching on a stool and praying for the day to end soon, Julie reflected 
that although she'd successfully remained a virgin until her marriage less 
than a year before, she really liked being in bed with Russ. Having his 
hands caress her trembling young body, his skilled lips enclosing the 
hardening nipples of her firmly upthrust breasts as his tongue danced and 
teased ... his fingers sliding sometimes feather light, sometimes iron hard 
between her eagerly parting thighs and then finding the quickly lubricious 
tight pale tufted furrow of her expanding cuntal lips ... these things 
delighted her. 

But she drew the line at any deviation from what she considered normal. She 
would go so far as to fondle his soft penis with her lewdly groping fingers 
and weigh his semen-heavy balls in her smooth hand ... but no more. 

"Julie, honey," he would whisper, his tongue slithering into an erotically 
thrilling way into her ear, "take me in your mouth, just for a few minutes, 
I'll be hard before you know it ... and you know all the girls suck now!" 

"Well, I guess I'm not one of the girls," she said, or words to that effect, 
every time. And then, frustrated, aroused and wantonly yearning but refusing 
to surrender her beliefs for a few minutes of carnal sex, she would roll 
over in their lumpy bed and silently cry herself to sleep. 

And then it was back to work again, more poses, a change into a black 
nightie that was flimsy as smoke, viewing her lush young body in the 
three-way mirror, seeing the thrusting of her breasts and the rich curve of 
her buttocks. 

"You expect me to pose in something like this?" Julie demanded in both 
incredulity and anger. 

"I'd rather pose naked-and there's fat chance of that." 

"Talk to her, fellow," the garment man said to Russ as if he was a servant. 
"You can do some airbrushing later." 

Two cameras slung around his neck, the lean young photographer drew his 
smoldering wife aside and said, "Honey, you've got to do it. Look, I know 
he's a slob, but he's got money he hasn't begun to count and interests in a 
lot of other things, like package food, home furnishings, stuff for young 
mothers and I don't know what else, but it's plenty." Nervously, he got a 
cigarette going and continued, "I'll shoot it so it's sexy but doesn't show 
any more than you do at the pool in a bikini. This could be the key to the 
door of success. No more spaghetti and beans. Now, for chrissakes, don't get 
him pissed off! Do it!" 

Tears were ready to burst from her eyes, but if she cried, that would wipe 
out her makeup and force her into another hour of this humiliation. And then 
the taffy-haired girl surrendered. 

"All right-but I'm going to look like a different woman. What would my 
friends-our friends-say if I let myself be photographed in this? It'll only 
take a minute." 

Russ Bourbon knew his wife's hard-headed ways and could only shrug and turn 
back toward the others. "She'll do it, but she wants to change a few things 
. , . and she's not happy." 

"If she isn't there are plenty of others who will be," the New Yorker said 
ominously, and Russ could see future commissions sprouting wings and flying. 
"Let's rest and have a drink. These things rip me open a little, too." 

Ice tinkled and liquor splashed and they waited until the fat man's eyes 
widened and he said, "Ummmmm ... eyeful! It's okay. In fact it's fine!" 

Hesitantly, a different Julie was coming toward them from the dressing room, 
the gossamer garment swirling its lacy hem barely below the juncture of her 
thighs, her firm, proud breasts swaying. Only now her hair was a deep glossy 
brown. Her delicate facial features were somehow fuller, her mouth a 
different shade to harmonize with the wig she wore over her own pale-hued 
curls. 

"I hope this will be all right," she said. 

"Christ, you DO look like a different woman," the garment merchant said. 
"You even talk different." 

"I put some cotton in my cheeks. I feel like a chipmunk, so can we make this 
fast, please?" 

In half an hour they were packing up the mass of equipment and Julie had 
changed back to a street dress. Now that it was over, she felt much better 
and wondered if she'd made a mountain out of a molehill. After all, she knew 
what some girls had to go through to get in front of a camera. One day when 
they didn't have the price of coffee between them, Russ had reluctantly 
agreed to handle a big Arriflex movie camera for a quickie blue film. It had 
happened at a time when he'd been absolutely unable to get his penis hard 
for almost a week. She was well aware of what was going to go on, and Julie 
was afraid seeing all that sexual depravity-pretty young girls casually 
doing all the things she refused him-that one of them might get what she 
yearned for. 

Eyes popping, she had watched, for the first time, two other people having 
sex. The girl was licking and kissing her partner's long thick penis, her 
tantalizing lips ovaled tightly around the mushroom-capped staff until he 
began to screw deep into her cavernous mouth, pulling her straining face 
obscenely down to his jerking loins until his cock swelled and spurted and 
thick silvery-white streams of cum gushed in an endless stream into the 
widely parted lips as she licked and sucked his cockhead. 

Julie had wanted to be sick but was too fascinated. Then there had been a 
hiatus while the camera was reloaded and drinks were had. After which the 
couple was on the bed again, this time with the man licking the girl's 
trembling body, every inch of it, before kneeling between her wide-splayed 
long legs as his deft tongue lewdly plumbed the depths of her wide-open 
pulsing cunt until with a cry of carnal delight the smooth thighs locked 
around his burrowing face and his cheeks glistened with her vaginal juices. 

As if nothing at all had happened, the actors, production crew and several 
hangers-on went out to a leisurely lunch in a nearby restaurant. 

Later, the stars put in a long time fucking, but by then Julie had become so 
innured to what was going on it was anticlimactic. 

"That," the aroused young blonde had said later when they were in their tiny 
apartment, "was an education, I'll admit! How could they, well, do all those 
things with so many people around?" 

"After a couple of F & S films, they forget their inhibitions." He grinned. 
"We're all alone ... want to try it?" 

"Not on your life!" Julie had retorted, but not angrily as she looked down 
at the front of his pants and saw the pole-like outline of his penis. Boldly 
she rubbed against him, kissing him with softly parted wet lips. "You know 
how I want it ... NOW!!!" 

Although physically tired by his chore of handling the heavy camera under 
hot lights all day, Russ had been aroused as he hadn't been in weeks! He 
almost ripped his clothes off, freeing the long, rigid length of his ready 
male-flesh that jutted out obscenely from his tight-muscled young belly. He 
hadn't even given the startled young bride time to undress, just thrown her 
down on the bed, shoved a lewdly searching hand hard up between her thighs 
to find the flimsy cloth of her panties. 

It parted with a harsh ripping and his groping fingers were probing carnally 
into the seething depths of her long-denied pussy. Her hair flailing, Julie 
Bourbon squirmed and, even as she grasped for his thrusting penis to guide 
it into her wetly flexing flesh tried to plead with Russ to at least give 
her time to get as naked as he was. 

But the aroused photographer failed to heed her whimpers-if in fact he even 
heard them. Grasping her shapely calves, he jackknifed her spasming legs up 
until her smooth knees were pushing down hard on the soft resilient mounds 
of her breasts. 

"Aaaaauuuugggghhhh!!!!" the impaled girl had cried out as she felt the 
length and girth of his cock splitting her tight little cunt, sending surges 
of rolling pink flesh ahead of the massive head until it slammed hard into 
the hot depths of her jerking belly and his heavy balls smacked wetly into 
the wide-splayed jiggling cheeks of her tightly squeezing ass. 

This is rape, she thought at the time. But oooo-ooohhhh-how I needed him in 
me!!! With abandoned carnality she ground her writhing young body against 
the mattress, jerking the sweaty plane of her aroused genitals up to absorb 
every bit of the plundering phallus. 

Feeling her juices boiling far up in her grasping vaginal passage, she had, 
with fingers suddenly clumsy, pulled the top of her thin dress down, baring 
the rich globes of her tingling breasts against the heavily panting chest of 
Russ. Her eyes were wide in surprise and joy and her lovely full lips 
contorted, drawn back tight over her fine white teeth in pure animal passion 
until, at last, she heard a strange voice that had to be her own repeatedly 
scream, as her tight cuntlips grasped the thick wet piston that was 
relentlessly splitting them. 

"I'm cummmmiiiinnnngggg!!! Aaaaahhhhh!!! Yesssssss!!!! MORE-HARDER!!! Oh, 
RUSSSS! CUMMMM IN MEEEEEEEE!!!" 

As she felt the thickening of his wetly slamming cock, the hot thick fire of 
his cum flooded her humping loins, mingling with the exotic scents of her 
own juices of passion. The aroused blonde wasn't sure, but she thought she 
must have fainted. 

It had been good, but never as good again.... 

* * * 

Now, in this burning-hot Las Vegas afternoon, the group stood in the 
deep-carpeted lobby of the luxury casino, with the muted whirr-click-click 
thump of the garish banks of slots and the muted chant of the dice dealers, 
a couple of husky bellhops carried out the heavy camera cases and other 
equipment. The New York big spender was trying to get the boy in the pink 
flare slacks out of what even comparatively innocent Julie Bourbon could see 
was a mood which would lead to a lover's quarrel. The agency guy, a hardened 
Las Vegan watched their departure. 

"Why do assholes like that wind up with all the money and we work our asses 
off for shells without peanuts in them?" he grumbled. 

He was a tall, thin ordinary-appearing man who had been unable to stand the 
Madison Avenue scramble and so had come West to start his own small 
advertising and public-relations agency, bringing with him little but a lot 
of big money contacts from New York. His name was Ken Kellogg, and he was 
universally known as "Cornflakes." He grinned and said, "Well, that wouldn't 
have been even a warmup on Mad Ave. You guys must be dying of thirst! Come 
on, I scrounged an expense account, and he expects me to pad the billing 
anyway. Let's get something for the throat and solid chow." 

"Wish we could, Ken," Russ Bourbon said. "But we could meet you after we've 
got our stuff back in the pad and cleaned up." 

"That sound's better. I'll go do likewise and we'll have a night on the town 
on Fat Fairy Godmother, and may his wand always wave." 

Laughingly they parted and Julie and her husband collected their 
well-traveled Pontiac station wagon and drove the few blocks to the 
second-rate hotel where they had a studio. Actually it was not bad, the best 
thing about it being that it was free, as Ken Kellogg had taken a liking to 
them and arranged a few things to the mutual benefit of his agency, the 
hotel and the young Bourbons. The hotel liked the idea of having a 
professional resident photographer around, because the established local 
photogs wouldn't walk through the door for less than a hundred bucks-if you 
could get one. From a practical point of view, allowing them the apartment, 
a couple of dinners a week and a few drinks-plus Russ could charge the usual 
fees-they had a camera-in-residence. With all the new 
multimillion-dollar-carpet joints, this one had to cut corners. And they had 
an arrangement with a commercial film-processing lab too. 

"Russ, it's a rip-off,-you can do better," Julie had objected. 

"Sure honey, and we will," her ambitious husband had assured the 
tawny-haired young wife. "But this way we have living quarters that would 
run us about two fifty a month. Some meals and drinks. A telephone and 
business address ... and a chance to make contacts. In a year or so, when 
I've got more equipment and cold cash for our nonexistent bank account, 
we'll move up. Right now, kiddo, it's survival. And this is the worst town 
in the country to be broke in. Plus, all the big names come here. Sooner or 
later, we'll meet some. Believe me, it's better than me having to work back 
of the bar with my head in the ice and my ass in the air while you hustle 
drinks in the casino." 

"Oh, you're right, Russ," Julie had said. And then, pouting, "If only all 
our money didn't have to go for those damn cameras!" 

"Julie, I need them to work with." He said it patiently but in a way that 
wouldn't allow any argument, and she knew it was the truth. Russ was good, 
and sharp enough to always be on the lookout for more work. Things were 
bound to improve.... 

* * * 

Now, at their hotel, they rode up in the automatic elevator almost hip-deep 
in camera equipment and the boxes containing Julie's newest addition to her 
wardrobe. Seemingly without effort, Russ with the ease of long practice 
grabbed two huge camera and equipment cases, slung a bulging gadget bag over 
each shoulder while she carried the light clothing boxes. For a slender man, 
he seemed to have amazing strength. Julie knew he was carrying more than two 
hundred pounds, most of it hanging from his hands. As he locked his 
professional gear away, the young flaxen-haired wife undressed and scurried 
into the shower, hoping he'd join her. The nearly carnal poses she'd gone 
through had excited her. 

But he didn't. Frowning, the big-busted blonde turned the spray on cold, 
stood under it until she felt goosebumps and, drying herself with a fluffy 
towel, went out to their combination bed, living and dining room. Russ lay 
naked on the day bed, a bottle of beer in one hand, a copy of Popular 
Photography in the other. He didn't look up. 

She thought the damn magazines cost almost as much of their combined 
salaries as the cameras, and he was either buying a new box or lens or some 
other gadget. There must have been a ton of magazines. Playboy and Penthouse 
and Oui and all the women's publications ... Julie thought the people who 
put out the fashion books didn't spend as much time reading them as Russ. He 
said he had to see what they wanted if he was going to work his way into 
five-thousand-dollar assignments, and ruefully she guessed he was right. 

"It's all yours," Julie said, with a double meaning. Yet even as she looked 
down at him, she was appraising his flaccid penis. At the moment Russ had no 
interest in his young, yearning wife and she knew it as she wryly added, 
"The shower." 

"Yeah ... thanks, babe," he said. 

Well, she told herself, he must be exhausted from the shooting session, too. 
At least I didn't have twenty pounds of cameras hung around my neck all day! 
Her flaxen hair brushed to glimmering perfection, she selected a minisheath 
that was almost fluorescent and high-heeled boots to match, wriggling into 
bikini panties. By the time the young bride was finished, Russ was out of 
the shower, freshly shaved and getting dressed in a dark suit that had been 
cut along mod lines, knotting a string tie and looking very handsome. The 
phone rang. Ken Kellogg was waiting for them in the lobby, and he had his 
car parked in front. 

It was a current-model Mercedes convertible, which he explained with a grin 
was part of the image you had to maintain if you were just getting started 
in Vegas in public relations and advertising. Even if you couldn't buy a 
beer, you found money for a flashy car. Waiting in it was an almost tiny, 
elfin dark-haired girl so slender she looked almost like a boy-certainly 
undernourished by the voluptuous dimensions of Julie Bourbon, the latter 
thought. She was introduced as Mike, and Julie had a moment of wondering if 
maybe she was a boy in girl's clothes. Her chest was almost flat, although 
the bright streetlights showed good legs under a brief dress. Her last name 
was one of those unpronounceable things from Poland or Yugoslavia or 
someplace in Eastern Europe. 

She had immense dark eyes, tilted in a Slavic way at the outer edges. High 
cheekbones. Feeling no sense of challenge, Julie could admit that she had 
the most beautiful mouth she'd ever seen. Rich, soft, wet glistening lips. 
The balance of Mike's face was heart-shaped, angelic. The poor little skinny 
thing had to have something. It turned out that she was working part-time 
for Ken Kellogg's agency as a typist and interpreter, speaking five 
languages, and Ken was working on getting some accounts from behind the Iron 
Curtain now that trade was increasing and various shades of communist 
governments were trying to tap the American market. What Mike really wanted 
to be was a model. 

Julie wanted to reply that with her figure, only the highest fashion places 
would glance at her, unless she could just do head shots for a cosmetics 
outfit. She sure was working the wrong side of the street in Vegas, where 
tits and ass and long legs were what put money in the bank. Julie said only 
that she was breaking in also. 

There was a steak house a few miles out of Vegas where the prices were 
outrageous ... but they didn't have slot machines and there was no pressure 
to drink more than you wanted. Ken had arranged a secluded booth where in 
due time a multicourse meal which would have drawn raves in Parris arrived, 
along with wine. It was all Julie Bourbon could do to keep from jumping up 
and shouting out her pleasure after all the months of things that came in 
cans. She found the petite brunette appealing and seemingly glad to have any 
job at all, and particularly one which put her at least on the fringe of the 
advertising business. Julie sensed a sexual hunger that no man, with the 
choice female flesh of Vegas, would glance at, and found herself feeling 
sorry for Mike. 

The men were talking business in low key. Over liqueurs, Ken said, "There's 
a small group of professional photographers here. They're so good they don't 
look for work-it looks for them. From what I've seen of your talent, Russ, 
you'd fit right in. It's a good way to pick up assignments. One photog is 
asked to do a job that's not his specialty, and he passes it on to a guy 
inside who will do it right. Some work all over the world. They don't even 
have a name but I know the one who more or less got it together. Guy named 
Chris Gael." 

"I've heard of him-who hasn't?" Russ replied, suddenly excited. "One of the 
best industrial photogs in the country! Sure, my tongue's already hanging 
out." 

"He's out of town but his wife Shawna said he'll be back within a week. Be 
happy to arrange it," the thin man said. "Oh, and how soon can you process 
the stuff you shot today? Fat Fairy Godmother will want to look before he 
goes East with lover boy." 

"Dawn, you know I forgot it," Russ said. "Let me call and see if I can get 
an early time at the lab. Be right back." 

He wandered around until he found a phone booth. The light didn't work and 
he misdialed twice before getting the all-night number and when he did Russ 
became unhappy and started arguing. He wanted the lab and he wanted it 
locked in tight and wasn't quite in a mood to sit on his ass while some 
bunch of amateurs got in there and fucked up every tank of soup and fixer in 
the place and he wasn't about to be shut off by any two-buck-an-hour phone 
chick. 

"What's wrong? You've been gone over fifteen minutes!" 

The husky voice startled him. He hadn't even noticed the door open. But 
suddenly beside him was the skinny little Mike, and he didn't need an 
interruption because it was hard enough for him to get his message across to 
the stupid girl on the other end. About half of what she said wasn't even in 
English! 

"Listen to this shit!" he said, turning the phone so Mike could hear. It 
drew her against him and he was surprised to feel her curves as she pressed 
her beautiful face to his cheek. 

And suddenly she exploded into a furious torrent of some strange language. 
He didn't understand a word, but knew it wasn't polite. After several 
minutes she slammed the phone down and with a triumphant smile on her 
sensuous mouth Mike said, "I had to talk to her in Czech, but you've got 
your lab from eight in the morning." 

"I'll be fucked...." he mumbled in awe. 

"Maybe," Mike said with a wicked grin. "We should go back to the table, or 
your lovely wife will think that is happening." 

* * * 

The elfin girl had been wearing some sort of perfume that was so subtle Russ 
Bourbon had hardly been aware of it until they were shut up in the close 
confines of the phone booth. Somebody should teach her how to dress, he 
thought ... she's got no tits but when she was pressed up to me so tight 
that round little ass and those legs that look thin until you feel them 
against you. He felt himself hardening, his cock rising and swelling against 
his trousers. 

After saying goodnight to Ken Kellogg and Mike, he set the alarm for 6 a.m. 
before stripping naked and falling into bed. Despite the gourmet meal, his 
head ached. It had been a long goddam day, and tomorrow promised to be 
longer, locked up in a darkroom with roll after roll of film to process and 
print out for that fat bastard. Julie was in the tiny dressing room 
carefully hanging up her dress as she switched off the lamps, leaving the 
tiny apartment illuminated by only a pale night light. He couldn't get the 
perverse image of that Mike out of his mind, even when Julie came in, all 
glowing golden in the amber light and slithered languorously under the thin 
sheet which was the only cover they used on hot nights like this. 

Julie was yearning so hard it was difficult to remember how many days had 
passed since Russ had spread her legs and rammed his hot thick penis into 
her seething little pussy. Well, the job he'd been sweating for a week was 
done, except for the film processing, so maybe now he'd fill the yearning in 
her quaking belly. 

Lewdly searching between her husband's legs, her trembling fingers found the 
rigid shaft of his penis. She slowly rolled the thick fleshy foreskin down 
over the rubbery mushroom-shaped head and grasped the hotly pulsing staff of 
flesh. Panting with wanton desire, she grasped his semen-heavy scrotum with 
her other hand. 

Drops of hot pre-seminal fluid were already oozing from the tiny slit in the 
reddish-purple tip! Thank God! He was ready and able tonight! Moaning with 
desire and crawling over his trembling body, her eager hand slowly stroking 
her husband's cock, Julie tried to bring it to the flowering portals of her 
blonde-fringed cuntal furrow as her mouth, full lips parted and tongue 
reaching for his, kissed his throat and ears.... 

"Oh ... NOOOOOO...." she cried out. 

For suddenly his whole body jerked, his penis fucking into her tightly 
grasping little fist, and then her fingers were dripping stickily with his 
hot spurting cum! How could he! And even as the last globules of his semen 
soiled her palm and seeped downward to the rumpled sheet she began to cry as 
she never had before. She crawled off him and rolled into a ball, smelling 
the strong male scent of him in the small room. He reached for her, mumbling 
an apology, and she kicked and struck at him in frustration. 

"What's happened to you?" the lovely tawny-haired girl cried. 

"Dawn it, I've been working my ass off all day!" he shot back. "Seeing you 
in all those sexy outfits so that all you had to do was touch me and I shot, 
Julie! I'm sorry ... I couldn't help it." 

"I'm sorry you couldn't too," she said bitterly. "The first time in almost 
two weeks-and what happens!!!" 

"Look, babe, let me eat you," he pleaded. "Open those long beautiful legs 
and let me get my tongue into you ... you'll love it!" 

"I want you the right way!" she wept. "Oh, it was so good in the beginning! 
Now you want to lick between my legs because that's all you can do! Or you 
want me to suck-SUCK YOUR COCK!" 

"You show me a girl who won't go down on her own husband and I'll show you a 
freak," he said angrily. 

"Then you're in bed with one!" She kicked at him when he touched her 
trembling thighs. "If we had two beds in this miserable place, I wouldn't be 
in yours! Touch me one more time and I swear I'll hit you with a camera!" 

"Oh, fuck you, you puritan bitch!" he snarled. 

He rolled away, turning his back to the sobbing young blonde. 

Shivering as if caught in an Arctic blizzard, the broken-hearted young bride 
lay immobile for nearly an hour. Yet she still felt the urgent demands of 
her ripe female body. Slowly her fingers slid between the sensitive soft 
flesh of her thighs, seeking her still-wet cunt with its fringe of 
light-golden hair. Repressing a sigh, she began to stroke herself between 
the blood-engorged vaginal lips. She was so wet ... so wide open! She 
couldn't help spreading her legs wide and driving her lewdly searching 
fingers sinfully up into the writhing depths of her body, panting as with 
her other hand she began to caress the denied mounds of her jiggling 
breasts. Julie's thumb began to rub her clitoris and almost immediatly she 
felt the gushing of her passion juices erupt deep in her aroused young body. 

"Aaaaauuuugggghhh!!!" she panted, writhing, her head rolling so her swinging 
hair sprayed over the cum-soaked sheet. "Uuuuoooooo!!!" 

"Hey, wha's goin' on?" the sleep-drugged Russ mumbled, waking to the 
writhing and sluicing sounds and heavy panting and the way the bed was 
shaking. 

"It looks like there are some things I have to do for myself," Julie 
whispered venomously. "Don't worry about it, Russ ... what you need is a 
woman like that little Mike. She's so small and lean you wouldn't have to 
worry. No place to put anything, if you had anything left to put." 

Enraged, he made a grab for her but she scrambled out of the bed and grabbed 
for the phone, backing away from him as her fumbling terrified fingers spun 
the dial. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Russ demanded. 

"I'm getting another room for the night, that's what I'm doing," Julie 
retorted. The desk clerk came on and assured her one was available. Julie 
thanked him, hung up and dressed faster than she ever had before. She went 
out the door, slamming it behind her, carrying only a big shoulder bag, 
trying not to cry. 

In the hallway, she was intercepted by a gray-suited young man, very neat. 
He showed her a security badge and handed her a key. 

"DeCosta," he said. "Desk said maybe trouble up here, so I was sent with the 
key. Would you like me to have a talk with him or get anything from the room 
for you?" 

Insanely through the disturbed young woman's mind flashed the thought, Yes, 
but what I need isn't in that crummy studio. It's in your pants! Come with 
me and get into me and stay there screwing me until I'm really out of it! 

That's what Julie Bourbon wanted to say. But she knew it would be a cheap 
shot. In order to live with herself she would have to fight her own battles 
with Russ no matter how she yearned for a long, rigidly reaming penis 
splitting her tender pussy. 

"Thanks, but it'll blow over ... he had a hard day." She tried to grin, her 
face tear-streaked. "And he's looking at another one in the morning." 

"I'm on until eight. The night crew will keep an eye on the situation, and 
I'll check by, Mrs. Bourbon," he said. 

"I'm sure it will be cool by then, Mister DeCosta," Julie said as they 
arrived at a door two floors down. He took the key from her, opened it and 
ushered her in, turning on lights. It was a very nice room with two double 
beds and bath. Certainly more than she'd need for a few hours. 

Putting the key on the night table, the security man smiled as he said, "I'm 
sure it will too. These things happen. And I suggest you put the chain on 
the door." 

With a reassuring smile, the soft-spoken, polite man was gone. 

Julie was happy to find the room had a bathtub. She filled it with warm 
water and soaked for a long time, then went to bed. 

Naked and alone. 

She wondered what Russ might be thinking, if he was still awake. It had been 
their first real quarrel. 

* * * 

It was nearly three in the morning when the phone jarred Russ Bourbon awake. 
His head hurt, and he was suddenly aware that Julie wasn't in bed beside 
him. Then he remembered the argument, muttered, "shit!" and grabbed the 
phone, growling. He expected it was a case of blood on the highway with an 
insurance adjuster needing some pix before the evidence vanished. He hated 
that kind of work but was in no position to turn anything down, no matter 
what the hour. He blinked with bleary eyes when he heard a sultry feminine 
voice. 

"Russ! This is Mike. Problem." 

"Goddamn it!" he snarled. 

"I agree ... they woke me up too," the elfin girl said. "Here's the skinny. 
Fat Fairy Godmother has an emergency back in New York and he has to be on 
the first available plane ... he just has to have a look at the stuff you 
shot before he goes. Ken called. He says rough prints will do it."- 

"You tell that pansy to blow his nose or anything else he can find," the 
irritated photographer shot back. "I don't have the lab until eight in the 
morning, and it's at least four hours of work." He reached for a cigarette 
and got it lighted. "And I'd need a lab tech to process that fast. He can't 
have them before five in the afternoon." 

"You have the lab now. Cornflakes fixed it. And you have a tech." 

"Who?" 

"Me. I know how to crop and print and copy. So how soon do I meet you and 
Julie?" 

"Julie's not here," he snapped, reaching for his pants. "This is going to 
cost that far-out fairy son-of-a-bitch. Meet you at the lab in twenty 
minutes." 

Shit! he thought as he hurriedly pulled on his clothes. Every time you get 
your head out of the water, somebody hits it with an oar! And where the hell 
has Julie gone? Well, there's no time to sweat that now. He grabbed the 
spools of film and slammed out the door, completely unaware of the 
unobtrusive security officer who followed him until he got the ancient 
station wagon running and left with a squeal of tires. He had to go clear 
across town, and his eyes hurt and he had fur in his mouth and he was 
thoroughly pissed at the glittering night world of Las Vegas.... 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Mike had the door to the commercial lab open as he arrived. Russ Bourbon 
strode in like a master surgeon entering an operating theater, his mouth 
grim. 

"You look like you could use a drink," she said. 

"I could use a hell of a lot more than that," he said in reply, "but not 
until I get this stuff in the soup." As he spilled out the film cannisters 
on the counter in the darkroom and sorted them, then checked the tanks of 
chemicals, he cursed steadily in a monotone. He picked up the first 
cannister, prepared to rap it sharply on the counter and snapped, "Lights 
out." 

The lab went to black and working by feel with sure competence Russ fed the 
spools of film into the processing machine. He could hear the breathing of 
the slender girl somewhere in the dense jet black which surrounded him. He 
worked swiftly and competently and when the last roll was in the soup 
switched on a dim light and set the timer. He was surprised to find the 
little girl laughing. 

"What the hell can be funny at this time of day?" he demanded. 

"You!" she said. "I've heard a lot of people talk to themselves ... but you 
answer yourself, too! And where did you ever learn such language?" 

"Bad company, I suppose," the leanly handsome young photographer said. "Did 
you mention a drink?" 

"I brought a bottle of Scotch," she replied, glad that he had apparently 
eased out of his angry mood and was now concentrating on his films. "How do 
you want it? With hypo for a mix?" 

"I never drink hypo before sundown," Russ said, grinning now. "Just water." 

There was a small lounge for the use of photographers and film processors 
who had to wait out the time-consuming process of developing, printing and 
drying photos. It was a modern, automated lab in which films, once fed into 
the machines, would be safely left to their own devices until it was time to 
dry them, yet Russ Bourbon could see hours of work ahead in the printing 
process. Mike had mixed herself a light drink, but a heavy one for him. 

"You went through that like a tornado," she said, smiling with her sensuous 
mouth that looked out of place in her heart-shaped face. "This is a stinker, 
getting you out of bed ... did Julie complain?" 

"Julie," he said curtly, "wasn't there. We had a disagreement." 

"Oh ... I'm sorry," Mike said. She thought that if she could ever trap a man 
like this, she would really be his slave. She knew her petite figure was 
beautifully rounded-except that she had no breasts to speak of-and men 
always wanted those. She gave the impression of being skinny as a snake when 
clothed. Only when naked did the smooth contours of her heart-shaped 
buttocks and slender thighs become dominant. Lying under a man, with his 
penis ramming into her tight little pussy, she always felt inadequate 
because of her tiny breasts, not realizing that although they were small in 
size they were perfectly formed globes, the nipples bright as wild 
strawberries. Mike didn't want men to see her breasts, and when a man took 
her, she insisted on kneeling, knowing her legs and asscheeks were 
beautiful, making her lover take her from behind. Because of this feeling of 
inadequacy, she had never refused to at least try anything a lover wanted to 
do. Mike even took pleasure from being lightly spanked and had learned how 
to relax her rectum and yield to anal intercourse which gave her deep 
sensual pleasure if the man took his time. 

Now she wondered how it would be to have sex with Russ Bourbon. 

And his voluptuous blonde wife hadn't been home. Interesting.... 

The timer clock chimed and Russ went to put the film into the churning 
water. When he returned to the lounge, Mike had a fresh drink waiting for 
him. Damn it, he thought as he sipped it gratefully, this is a pretty little 
chick ... and she looks horny. 

Mike was wearing a light, very short summer dress. And while she had no 
tits, Russ could find nothing at all wrong with her legs and she sure had a 
cute little ass. He wondered how it would be to fuck her. She had eyes you 
could dive into, and that mouth! He sighed, thinking of the work ahead. Just 
making wet prints of the negatives would take hours-there were over 
five-hundred separate shots, of which he might select a hundred as worth 
printing. 

"Who's your regular lab tech?" Mike asked. 

"Ha! I can't afford one yet," he said. "Usually Julie backs me up." He 
reached for her bottle and topped up his drink, beginning to feel the 
Scotch. "But tonight, no Julie. You're going to be hellish busy once we 
start printing, Mike." 

"It's all right ... I get the day off for responding above and beyond the 
call of duty tonight," the tiny girl said. She pulled a cigarette from her 
pack and he lighted it. Then she pinned him with the dark eyes. "None of my 
business, Russ ... and I know I'm prying, but do you want to talk about 
Julie? I'm a sensitive person and I know now that pulling you out of bed 
caught you at a bad time." 

Her words tapped the tiring, frustrating day and made the young photographer 
explode with a confession which he would never have made under ordinary 
circumstances. 

"I'm not a man any more, and she knows it!" he blurted, draining his drink 
and quickly fixing a new one. 

"I can't believe that," Mike said, reaching to touch him. 

"Well, it's true!" he said bitterly, feeling the warmth of her little hand 
on his leg. "Goddamn it! I work my ass off-both of us do ... and it's just 
taken everything out of me. That plus I like variety in sex. I like to go 
down on a girl, and have her return the favor but Julie just won't. Christ, 
I must be drunk or I wouldn't tell anything like this to a stranger! But 
hell, maybe better to get it out in the open!" 

"What happened, Russ?" the dark-haired little girl said, caressing him 
slowly, her hand moving steadily up his leg toward his manhood. "Spit it 
out! I'm a good listener, and it never goes any further." 

"All day," he said wearily. "All day, Julie is posing, and I'm getting hot. 
When we got home, I wanted her, and she wanted to fuck too. Well, the minute 
she touched me, I was cumming in her hand. I really felt like a shit! Well, 
there were two things that could have fixed it up fine in just a little 
while. I wanted to eat her and she wouldn't even think about it ... although 
I know I could have satisfied her that way, and gotten hard enough to fuck 
her all night. And she won't even think of going down on me so I can get 
hard enough to fuck her! Damn it, she doesn't have to make me cum in her 
mouth! Just get me hard." He shook his head. "I was just so aroused that I 
popped as soon as she touched me. I don't blame her for being pissed, but 
damn it, she could at least try some of those things." 

"Julie's never gone down on you?" the dark-haired elfin girl said as her 
hand lecherously explored the juncture of his thighs and her deft fingers 
closed on the now-rigid length of his penis. "I can't believe it!" 

"Sad but true," Russ mumbled, moving against the hand. 

"She's a damn fool!" The sensuous lips parted in a wry smile. "But most of 
the really beautiful women are. Now, look at me! I'm skinny as a fence post, 
so I have to try harder." 

"I'll think about that," the dark, handsome photographer said. He was 
tingling as he hadn't for months as he felt her hand clutch his rigid cock 
through his slacks. He looked searchingly at her and finally said, "Well, 
you're sort of small, but by God, you're beautiful. Your mouth is the most 
inviting mouth I've ever seen. Maybe a little small in the tit department, 
but there's sure nothing wrong with your legs and ass, Mike!" 

She thought a moment and then went to lock the door. She turned to him, her 
tongue wetting her lips before she spoke. "I don't want to mess you up with 
Julie ... sooner or later you'll work it out." 

"I sure hope so," he said glumly. 

"Well, there are things I need too," she said. "And the film will have to 
wash for an hour." 

"If you're teasing, stop it," he said. 

"I want to blow you ... suck your beautiful cock," she replied firmly. "If 
you want me...." 

"I'll be double damned," he whispered, reaching for her, pulling her on top 
of him, caressing her with strong, searching fingers that knew all the 
erogenous zones. Her hand was on him again, drawing the zipper down, fishing 
for his rock-hard penis. "Damn, from the first time I saw you, I wanted to 
stuff my prick into your mouth ... wanted to eat you...." 

He felt the wetness of her cunt through her thin panties and could smell the 
woman-scent of her. He wanted to tear them off and bury his face and his 
lewdly searching tongue between her legs, and he fumbled for the zipper of 
her dress. 

"No!" Mike said sharply, squirming away. "Don' take my dress off ... until 
we know each other better. Then ... if it's good, you can have me any way 
you want." 

"Any way?" He stroked her young, vibrant body, his fingers sliding between 
her clenching asscheeks and finding the tight little ring of her anus. She 
trembled at his touch. "Here, too?" 

"Ummmmmm...." Mike moaned. "But not yet. Just this for now." 

Deftly she drew his slacks down, and his shorts, and his long thick cock was 
in her deftly stroking hand. She rolled the fleshy foreskin down as she 
pulled a pillow from the sofa and knelt on it between his wide-splayed bare 
legs. 

"Oooooohhhh ... so beautiful!!!" Mike murmured as the mushroom-shaped head 
of his cock filled her entire vision. His testicles were hot and heavy in 
her hand, and her nostrils flared as she drew in the male scent of him. God, 
but it was immense. Could she take all of it into her soft lips? The elfin 
girl bent low over his loins, her knees pressing hard into the pillow as she 
lovingly stroked the thick, iron-hard penis. A pearly drop of pre-seminal 
fluid was already forming at the reddish-purple tip and she flicked the tip 
of her tiny pink tongue over it, savoring the salty, rich taste. She'd never 
had one this big before and was sure her jaws would be sore by the time she 
finished what she had set out to do. Eyes wide, she raised her beautiful 
face and said, "I want you to cum in my mouth." 

"Then go down on me." 

"Not too soon ... I want to ... play with you," Mike replied, lovingly 
kissing the hot, rubbery knob. "It's so big ... I want it all, every inch, 
but I'll have to strain." 

"You've got a beautiful mouth," he said, pulling her head down to the 
throbbing tip of his cock and feeling her soft, wet lips part in a tight 
oval even as her tongue swirled around his flesh like she was licking an 
ice-cream cone. She was so damn pretty, kneeling so subserviently over his 
hot loins, her lips working on the head of his prick like a fish's feeding 
mouth as she strained to draw him deep into the hot, saliva-filled cavern. 
She was moaning with wanton desire. He wanted to just grab her head and ram 
his shaft deep into her throat, but held back. She was so small she might 
choke. Yet she was taking it, her cheeks hollowing as inch by inch she 
absorbed his rampant cock, her head slowly bobbing.... 

He watched the thickly sensuous lips stretch to their utmost as she tried to 
encompass his throbbing penis. Finally he was sure he heard her jaw pop as 
the lust-swollen head penetrated between her gaping lips. 

"Ummmmmm...." Mike moaned deep in her throat as her tongue worked on the 
head of his staff. She tried to engulf more of him and her cheeks ballooned 
around the thickness of his cock. She was not sucking yet, just trying to 
absorb all of him, and knew she was failing. He was so big! Reluctantly her 
salivating lips surrendered the knob-like head of his cock and she 
whispered, "I'm really going to have to work at this." 

"If you can't take more than the head, you can use your hand," he told her. 

"I want it all ... every bit of it in my mouth," she said, her dark eyes 
flashing. "Just let me work on you, Russ." 

He leaned back on the sofa as her tiny hand lewdly caressed his iron-hard 
prick. She bent over it, her tongue flickering like the tongue of a snake, 
and she began to wet him, her soft, hot lips dripping saliva onto the 
pulsing shaft until it was slick and glistening. Then, her soft lips widely 
parted, she guided the huge head between them again. 

Looking down at her kneeling figure between his legs, Russ Bourbon thought 
Mike looked more like a child than a woman-but there was nothing child-like 
about the way she was taking him now. With agonizing slowness, she sucked 
his rigid cock into the wet heat of her mouth. He saw the stark outline of 
it against her straining cheeks and didn't think it was possible. But a 
fraction of an inch at a time, his manhood was being lovingly absorbed. 

Mike felt the thick rubbery cockhead finally pressing against her tonsils. 
She gagged but knew she could do it. Her slender fingers caught the 
hard-muscled thighs and she willed her throat muscles to relax. 

"Ummmmmm...." she moaned in wanton desire. 

And then, tightly clutching him, she drove her head down, felt the hot spear 
of flesh burst past her tonsils and deep into her throat. She held him 
tight, her nostrils flaring as she fought for breath. God, how big and 
beautiful he was! Her mouth had never been so filled before! Slowly she 
began to suck his staff, her bloated cheeks hollowing tight around it as her 
tongue slowly slid over the heavy-veined penis. Only when she was completely 
relaxed, no longer choked by the massive phallus, did she begin to move her 
eager mouth up and down. He lay back, and after several minutes she felt his 
hands close around her gliding head, not forcing her, because she needed no 
forcing. 

"God! What a beautiful blow-job!" he groaned, beginning to undulate so that 
kneeling over his hot loins she felt his penis screwing deeper and deeper 
into her avid mouth. "God, you can turn a man on! Keep it up! I don't want 
to cum! I just want to be in your mouth!" 

Mike rolled her dark eyes up at him as her lips, stretched to their limit, 
slowly slid up the thick length of his cock. The eyes said "thank you" and 
she went down again. 

It went on and on, with agonizing slowness for both of them. Her mouth was 
drawn out on the upstroke like that of a feeding fish and then her soft, 
eager lips rolled tightly over her little white teeth as with a moan of 
pleasure she absorbed his penis deep into her hot, salivating throat again. 
Several times she found her petite body cramped and shifted to ease her 
aching knees, but she hardly felt the pain and the stiffness. It was so 
beautiful, having her mouth so deliciously filled. And Russ Bourbon was, she 
told herself, the greatest guy she'd ever gone down on. He had fabulous 
self-control! Most of the others couldn't stand the heat and teasing of her 
skilled lips. Within minutes they were grabbing her head and fucking 
violently into her mouth, hurting her. But he was reclining, just playing 
with her hair and letting her do it all. 

In the dimness of her enraptured mind, she heard the faint sound of the 
timer going off, saying the negatives had washed enough. With a wet slurping 
sound she surrendered his hard cock from her loving lips, and found she 
could hardly speak. 

"I think it's time," she managed to say, licking her lust-swollen lips and 
managing a wanton smile. "And my mouth is getting tired." 

"It should be-you've been working on me for over an hour," he said. "I've 
been holding it for you ... my balls are ready to blow up." 

"All right ... I want every drop," Mike replied. 

Then she gulped him into her eager lips again, into the steaming wet cavern 
of her mouth and throat, her head now bobbing furiously over his wet 
genitals. The room was filled with the sounds of her eagerly consuming mouth 
and Russ thought she was going to suck his prick right off his body as he 
fucked into her passion-contorted face. 

"Oh, I'm cuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!!!" he cried, and grabbed her head as he 
screwed into her devouring lips. 

Mike felt the urgent swelling of his cock and then as her tongue slithered 
like a lizard along the underside, the pulsing of his hot semen as it 
spurted in choking jets from the jerking penis which her lips ovaled so 
tightly. Time after time her mouth was filled with this thick, rich cum and 
she swallowed in spasms, feeling it burn its way down her throat and into 
the quaking vault of her little belly. 

"Uuuummmmmmnnnn!!!" she moaned, her lips refusing to let him go as her tiny 
pink tongue sought for every drop of the sweet male nectar. Her pussy 
tingled as the eroticism of the moment set off her own magnificent orgasm 
and her loins boiled and seeped with her spontaneous cumming. She found it 
difficult to believe that he'd cum in his wife's hand such a short time ago. 
Ravenously she sucked him until his penis was soft between her demanding 
lips and Russ was gasping in spent pleasure. Finally she reluctantly let his 
maleness slip from her all-devouring mouth, but continued to lick and kiss 
it reverently as she mumbled thickly, "Oh, so nice ... so beautiful ... like 
sweet whipped cream...." 

A long, thin whitish string of cum trailed from her mouth as finally the 
tiny girl straightened up, still swallowing. 

"Whew!" he whispered as he pulled her to him and kissed her semen-glistening 
lips. "God, what a beautiful little cocksucker!" 

Cocksucker! 

Mike didn't like to think of herself in that way, but she had to face it. 
She returned his kiss, panting with her own completion and said, "I'm a 
scrawny little thing ... I have to try harder." 

"Good things come in small packages," he said, sliding his hand up between 
her splayed legs to fondle her pussy. "No lie ... you're the best I've ever 
met. Hell, a woman like you...." 

"Not very many men bother to look to see if I am a woman," she said. "I'm 
used to it." 

"That, little one, is all in your head," Russ said. "If I could do an 
instant replay, I would." 

"Oh, I know I give good head," Mike said. "It's the only thing men want from 
me." She fished for a cigarette and lit it before he could find his lighter. 
"Know something? Most of the men I have sex with are homosexuals. I'm so 
skinny they can pretend I'm a boy when I'm down on them. And I sort of like 
them, because they're not rough or aggressive, even when they want me to 
kneel and let them in my bottom. They're not likely to hurt me the way 
straight guys do ... just ram into me and not care that it hurts at first. I 
can let myself go ... you know?" 

His hand reached up under her short dress and he stroked the smooth, warm 
round cheeks of her ass as the tiny girl squirmed in his arms and made happy 
sounds. 

"This is an all-girl ass," he said. "Save me a piece." 

"I don't want to screw up your relationship with Julie," the gamin-faced 
girl said seriously. 

"You're more woman than she'll ever be, Mike," he said seriously. "I really 
think she'd like me to have someone to take the pressure off her. I keep 
wanting all these things she won't do, you know?" 

"Vegas is full of pneumatic girls," she countered. 

"Fuck them!" he shot back. "Julie's a great straight lay. But you ... I want 
to fuck you every way there is! In the mouth, up this tight little ass ... 
and I want to eat you until you scream for mercy." 

"Oh, wow! What a proposition." She laughed, pleased. 

"And get that damn tit-fixation out of your head!" the aroused photographer 
went on. "The next time I'm with you, I want you bare-ass naked-or I don't 
want you!" 

"Yes, Russ," Mike said meekly. Her obscenely seeking hand found his wet, 
flaccid cock and tucked it back into his pants. The tiny woman was stunned 
to think this handsome man would want her. She knew she was good at sex ... 
she had to be, to find a man even for one time. How often had it happened 
that she had subjugated herself, giving them pleasure with her mouth, or 
parting her clenching asscheeks, or anything they wanted, and then been 
discarded the first time something with tits walked by? Well, Julie had the 
tits, all right, but she sounded like the coldest of fishes. "If you want me 
... any way. But hadn't we better get on with printing those shots?" 

* * * 

Julie Bourbon awoke restlessly in the strange room at about 4 a.m., the hour 
when medical science has found the human body to be at its weakest; when, in 
the long-term seriously ill person, death is most likely to occur. There was 
a sinking feeling in her solar plexus and she thought she had acted like a 
petulant child with her young husband. He must have been totally exhausted 
by his long day and she, tired herself, had flared up when Russ shot his cum 
into her lewdly groping hand. Well, his plea that she use her sensual mouth 
on him so he could give her what she needed most had been spurned. Although 
she coudn't even think of doing such a thing, she could have been diplomatic 
and understanding in the circumstances, the drowsy blonde girl told herself. 

She realized several hours had passed-maybe Russ had cooled down. He might 
even have rejuvenated himself to the point where he could give her what she 
needed most-a hard, wild fucking! Impulsively, now willing to crawl to him, 
she reached for the phone. 

It buzzed and buzzed interminably in her ear, until finally an unfamiliar 
male voice came on the line. "Mrs. Bourbon, this is Agent DeCosta. We met 
earlier. Your husband had to go to work." 

"What're you doing on the line?" she demanded, fishing for a cigarette from 
her purse. "Has anything happened?" 

"No, no, everything is fine," the voice assured her. "Just as a precaution 
we put a phone cover on the line to your apartment. There was a call for 
Mister Bourbon a few minutes after you moved into the room you're using. The 
switchboard operator stayed on the line only long enough to establish the 
nature of the call. The other party-represented an advertising agency. 
Apparently there were some films taken yesterday and it was important they 
be developed immediately. The operator left the line then, but a few minutes 
later Mister Bourbon departed." 

"Oh," Julie said, puffing on her cigarette, vastly relieved. "That must have 
been Mister Kellog." 

"It sounded like a secretary." 

"Oh, sure," Julie said confidently. "I've met Mister Kellogg's secretary. 
Well, if Russ is working all night, maybe he'll forget to be mad at me." 

With a muted chuckle, the tawny-haired bride finished her cigarette and went 
back to bed. She thought Russ must have been really delighted to be called 
out in the middle of the night, right after a serious argument, to go 
through the tedious process of printing pictures. And called by a secretary 
who, although she had a beautiful face, carried no more weight on her limbs 
than a canary bird. 

Grinning, thinking of her own lush woman's figure, Julie drifted off to 
sleep again.... 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"Russ, Fat Fairy Godmother is absolutey delighted with the final prints ... 
I think you've got steady work," Mike said in the reception room of Ken 
Kellogg's advertising agency several days later. She swung around in her 
chair, flashing her good legs, bare almost to the hips, and wanting him. Yet 
something had warned her to keep the handsome photographer at a distance, at 
least for the present. But it was nice having him look at her like a woman 
and know he wanted her despite his big-titted wife. She was sure she could 
never compete with the glamor of Julie but if she used the female right to 
tease a little she was sure he'd let her blow him, and just having that was 
enough. She flipped through a file folder and said, "The shots they want 
blown up are all listed. They'd like them in the mail within a week." 

"Beautiful," he said, his eyes on her slightly parted lips as he thought of 
how beautifully they sucked. Right now he wanted to cross the room, pull his 
cock out and plunge it deep between them into the hot wetness of her mouth. 
Julie had come back, but things hadn't improved much. He had fucked her 
once, for all of two minutes. "When can I get together with Ken?" 

"Oh, I'm glad you reminded me," she said. "Chris and Shawna Gael are back 
and he's having lunch with them at the Rainbow. He'd like you there at two 
o'clock so he can introduce you. He said to bring Julie." 

"You going to be there?" Russ asked, trying to sound casual. 

"I have to mind the store." The elfin secretary winked. 

"Later?" 

She scribbled a phone number and address on a note pad and passed it to him, 
saying, "Call me at home ... but I don't think you'll have time for a few 
days. You'll be to busy fighting off rape by Shawna or recovering from it." 

"Oh, sooooo...." Russ muttered. "I'll let you know." 

* * * 

Russ phoned first and then went to change clothes and pick up Julie. He 
realized he had an aching hard-on and wondered how a little bitsy thin girl 
like Mike could make him that way when he could hardly get it up for Julie. 
But then she wasn't skinny, not at all. Just tiny and self-conscious about 
it and willing to do anything just to be with a man. Hell, she'd given him 
the best blow-job he'd ever found anywhere, and come right out and told him 
he could fuck her in the ass ... and what a taut, pretty little ass it was! 
Russ still loved Julie, but her damn hangups about sex were driving him up 
the wall. If ever a woman was made for fucking, Julie was, but she held back 
so much. She needed a shock that would jiggle her magnificent ass and make 
her realize what a woman was for. 

Now she was unbelievably beautiful. As they made their way to the parked 
station wagon, her long pale hair gleamed in the hot Vegas sun and her 
golden tanned legs scissored smoothly, with a quick jiggle and clenching of 
her asscheeks as her high, wide-set breasts bounced under her thin summer 
dress, free and unfettered. As he helped her into the car, he pinched her 
taut buttocks and said, "Beautiful!" 

"Oh, Russ!" Julie gasped, blushing but liking the attention. Russ had seemed 
preoccupied since their disastrous night and the one time they'd had sex had 
been unsatisfactory for both of them. She wondered if she should give in, be 
a bit more liberal in her thinking. It might stimulate him to the point 
where he could satisfy her yearning young pussy ... and, Julie had to face 
it ... she liked to be touched and fondled in all the sensitive places, even 
pinched on the buttocks playfully. By the standards under which she had been 
raised, such things were sinful, but they were fun! 

She was well aware that oral love was widely approved now and she really 
wanted to try it. Yet it was too soon ... maybe if they had a really mellow 
night on the town, and enough drinks, she could do it. But every time he 
tried to kiss between her tender sleek thighs, she tightened up and just 
couldn't let him continue, any more than she could open her mouth for his 
penis. Resignedly, the limber tawny-haired bride thought a lot of married 
couples must have the same sort of problem. 

Now Julie was looking forward to the luncheon. The Rainbow was a small but 
elegant restaurant several miles outside Vegas, noted for good food and 
discretion. She had heard there was a motel a few hundred yards down the 
road where lovers often paused after lunching in the dim English-pub 
atmosphere of the Rainbow. And she was excited at the prospect of meeting 
Chris and Shawna Gael. She was sure if Chris took a liking to Russ, he could 
steer some very good assignments to him. The one for the rag merchant with 
the faggot boy had been unexpectedly good but she knew these things took 
time to build. It would be months before the photos Russ took of her were 
published in trade journals and magazines and led to other jobs. 

It was common knowledge that Chris Gael had offices in both Paris and London 
where he employed some of the finest photographers in the world. His 
particular specialty was industrial photography but he pretty well blanketed 
the field, covering all types of advertising with underlings and demanding 
the highest fees in the profession. 

So why does he fool around with a common little photo club? Julie Bourbon 
had wondered about this several times and finally come to the conclusion it 
was nothing more than a bus driver's or postman's holiday. 

The long-legged blonde bride was nervous, but the lunch went better than she 
had hoped, with Russ and Chris quickly becoming deeply involved in 
professional talk while she and Shawna chatted over their meal. 

Chris looked quite young to have attained such success. Julie guessed him to 
be in his early thirties, although there were signs of dissipation around 
his eyes and he was turning prematurely gray at the temples. Yet he was 
unmistakably an intelligent, well-traveled man. One who smiled readily and 
charmingly and had a large repertoire of amusing stories about the great and 
near great he had photographed. 

Shawna was a voluptuous creature with long, glistening reddish-brown hair 
and firm, ripe breasts almost spilling from the neckline of her short dress, 
which was slashed to her navel. Her eyes were slanted, a deep emerald green, 
her face still clasically beautiful although she freely confessed to being 
thirty years old. She was also very frank in her speaking. 

"I was just another dumb model when I met the admirable maestro here," she 
said, her rich lips peeling back to show fine white teeth. "Well you know 
how it is when you work as closely as a photog and model. We bounced into 
bed. It was good enough so that after a couple of years we went out and got 
half smashed and made it legal. There wasn't much money then, but it was 
fun, and the money came later, just as it will to you and Russ." Under the 
table, the voluptuous redhead's hand dropped high on Julie's bare thigh, 
clutching. "Some free advice. You're a beautiful girl, but he'll be working 
with a lot of them. Some will try to steal him right off your hot body. So 
ball him silly every night. Make him fuck you so hard and often he couldn't 
get it up for anyone else!" 

Julie blushed at the bluntness of the advice and at the same time thought 
there might be something valuable in it. She had a vague feeling that by her 
refusal to try any variety she might be pushing Russ toward other women who 
would give him what he wanted. She'd have to think about it, but now she 
wanted to change the subject because it was hitting too close to home. 

"That's something I'll have to think about," Julie said, adding, "I don't 
understand, with Chris so busy, how he even has time to fool around with a 
photo club." 

"This isn't an ordinary club, Julie," Shawna said, her hand moving slowly on 
Julie's thigh, but so lightly Julie didn't realize it. And she never would 
have recognized the desire in the deep-green eyes, because she had barely 
heard of bisexual women. "Its membership is about ninety-percent 
professional, and they're all very good. Nobody has time to read all the 
photography magazines and latest technical poop, so they kick ideas around. 
And they exchange markets, yap about technique and pick up a lot that no one 
working photog could find time to read up on. Now, Chris has seen some of 
the things Russ has done and thinks he has tremendous talent." 

"I'm glad. Russ really works hard." 

"Well, Chris and I talked and even before we met you, decided you must come 
to the next club meeting. That'll be five nights from now, at our rancho. 
I'll sketch you a map on how to get there. It's a small group, and very 
informal. Drinks and a pick-up dinner around the pool." 

"Wonderful," Julie said, nibbling at the calorie-counted fruit salad that 
was her dessert. 

A short time later, the luncheon broke up. Russ was more enthusiastic than 
she had seen him in monhts. His conversation with Chris Gael had been 
pleasant and he was eager to meet the other members of the club. 

* * * 

"Well, what do you think?" Chris asked his voluptuous wife as they drove out 
the Vegas Strip and she reclined in the deep leather seat of the Cadillac 
convertible. "Will they fit?" 

"Beautifully," Shawna said. "I got the feeling he's already cheating on her, 
but not seriously. And Julie is really a naive little thing. I had my hand 
on her thigh, almost on her pussy, and she didn't seem to realize it. There 
wasn't any response at all ... but I think deep down inside she's one very 
hot little girl." 

"If anyone can bring her out, you can, baby," he said, grinning. "Once you 
get that educated tongue of yours on her sweet little snatch, she'll go 
through the roof." 

"I thought you'd want to try her first," Shawna said, grinning and grabbing 
for his penis. 

The famous photographer laughed at their shared conspiracy and reaching to 
squeeze the full, tip-tilted globe of his wife's breasts said, "I know when 
I'm outclassed. Remember the Fillippino chick? The one you were down on for 
three hours a few months ago? Well, when I saw your tongue sliding up and 
down that cunt and drilling halfway into her belly I knew I was just an 
amateur cuntlapper watching a real pro at work. Christ, I thought you'd kill 
her!" 

"Hey-pull in here!" Shawna said suddenly, pointing to a luxurious motel. 

"What the hell for?" 

"Damn it, I'm hot! I want you to eat me. Just touching that magnifico blonde 
has me hotter than hell! I want your tongue in my cunt ... and if you really 
work at it, I'll buy you a drink." 

"Can't wait to get home?" he said, grinning. 

"Motel matinees are a lot of fun, or are you such an old married man you 
don't remember?" the auburn-haired beauty chided. She wickedly winked her 
deep-green eye. "Eat my pussy until I'm out of my mind and we'll have them 
send in a jug of icy Vodka Collins and then you roll me over and fuck me in 
the ass!" 

"How come I have to do all the work?" he said joking as the big car 
slithered into the shade of a canopy and he went in to register. They were 
well known here and always given a discreet detached cottage. Sometimes one 
of the teen-aged maids and a friend joined them ... eagerly, because they 
were generous with their tips. "The guy who said something like 'Man may 
work from sun to sun but woman's work is never done' never met you." 

"Oh, you love it," the tall voluptuous woman said. 

* * * 

"Ooooohhhh ... aaaahhhh!!!" she moaned in pleasure nearly two hours later as 
his cock pulled out of her tightly clutching anus, wrapped tightly in tender 
pink flesh and trailing a long string of cum while her rectal muscles milked 
it. Her cunt was dripping with the remains of the cum Chris had brought on 
with his spearing hot tongue and lips. Shawna sighed and said in a near 
whisper, "Chris there's nothing for me like getting fucked in the ass ... 
and you know I like it all. It hurts so at first and then turns into wild 
pleasure." 

"I wouldn't know about that sort of thing," he said, grinning and reaching 
to refill their glasses from the shaker in the ice bucket. He paused to 
light two cigarettes and put one in the passion-swollen mouth of his wife. 
Thoughtfully he continued, "You know something strange? It may sound weird, 
but I think Russ may be fucking Mike. Or maybe she's blowing him. There've 
been rumors that she gives great head." 

"I think your bird just fell out of his tree," Shawna said with a mocking 
grin. "A wife like Julie ... what would he ever see in Mike? She might be a 
good lay, scrawny as she is, but he wouldn't need her." 

"That sounds reasonable ... but when we were with Kellogg, her name came up 
a couple of times. He got tight and switched the subject. She may be built 
almost like a boy, but I'll tell you, any man would fight to bury his cock 
in those beautiful lips." 

"You could have something, weird as it sounds," Shawna conceded. "I wonder 
what would happen if Julie caught her blowing him." 

"It might just drive her into our loving arms," he said, draining his glass. 
"While I think of it, you haven't gone down on me for at least a week." 

"I need something to work on," Shawna said mockingly, reaching with lewd 
grasping fingers to squeeze his flaccid penis. "This looks like an all-night 
project." 

"We've got all night," he replied with a chuckle, pulling her head to his 
loins as her sensual mouth opened and her tongue began to search wetly 
around the shrunken cockhead. "And what are those beautiful lips for except 
sucking my cock?" 

"Oh, eating cunt," she said with a lascivious laugh as she bent to her task, 
her fingers rolling his heavy balls. 

Shawna felt his penis slowly hardening in her skilled, ardent mouth. She 
liked this, liked to be able to arouse Chris time after time. It was equally 
good with her girl friends, tasting the hot sweet juices that flowed from 
their flexing pussies into her mouth. And once she had them cumming so hard 
they were screaming it was really far out to slide over on the bed and watch 
Chris mount them and fuck like a demon into tender, spasming cunt until they 
were in such a frenzy all she had to do was squat over their lust-contorted 
faces and have them pull her grinding hips down to their sweating cheeks 
while their hot tongues speared to the very depths of her vagina.... 

Oh, it will be so nice, having Julie and Russ for playthings, the 
auburn-haired beauty thought as her husband's cock grew and grew, hardening, 
and finally exploded bullet like streams of hot, delicious cum into her 
ravenous lips. 

Now they could nap. Then go back to the Rainbow for dinner. And then fuck 
all night. She might even ask him to use the belt on her. 

* * * 

Russ and Julie had different reactions to the meeting of the photo club. 
Most of the shop talk was far over Julie's head yet she could imagine her 
husband's antennae waving, picking up every little bit of information. In 
addition to Shawna and Chris Gael there were ten other camera experts with 
their wives or girl friends. 

Julie had become restless, because since the fashion shooting she hadn't had 
a modeling assignment and her work was sometimes what kept them going while 
Russ waited for a check to come in. There had been a partial payment, really 
an advance against the billing, from Ken Kellogg's agency and what Russ 
actually got out of it would depend on how many photos were actually used, 
and in what way. It could take weeks or months, and meanwhile they had to 
meet the usual living expenses. 

Russ on the other hand was enthusiastic, particularly as one of the guests 
turned out to be the editor of a highly successful slick magazine which 
split its contents between controversial articles and beautiful girls 
wearing little or nothing. He paid fabulous prices and once a photog got 
into his pages, his price could go up out of sight. His name was Carleton 
Harris and he was reputed to be worth at least twenty million dollars, every 
cent of which he had earned himself, more by creating a market than finding 
one. A slender, soft-spoken man, he smoked gold-tipped cigarettes and drank 
nothing stronger than root beer. And he was showing an interest in Russ and 
Julie. 

"Ken Kellogg showed me proofs of the series your wife did for the rag 
merchant," Harris said. "She could be our centerfold girl." 

"Afraid there's not much chance," Russ said, shrugging as they stood in the 
shade of a pepper tree by the side of the kidney-shaped swimming pool. 
"Julie is an old-fashioned girl ... she won't do nudes." 

"Not even if you shoot them in privacy?" Harris pressed. 

"She'd want to at least change her appearance ... afraid of what her folks 
would think." 

"That's a common problem ... which usually vanishes when about eight 
thousand dollars appear." Harris grinned. "You might at least sound her out 
... and maybe Chris and Shawna will help. If you have no objection." 

"I think it's a great idea, and not just because of the money," Russ 
replied. "Julie's attitudes are ... old fashioned. She really needs to 
loosen up a little." 

"Suppose I have a quiet talk with Chris and Shawna," the publisher said, 
winking. 

"Maybe you could get Shawna to pose," Russ suggested. 

"She's in a big spread in our November book already," Harris said. "Real 
artistry, with another girl. Low-key stuff, but the most erotic layout you 
could imagine. When you have a chance, get Chris to show you the rough 
shots. Nothing gets male readers hotter than seeing two beautiful girls 
making it together." 

"You're going to publish that?" Russ was astounded. He knew the magazine 
well and had always considered it erotic but not pornographic, and this 
sounded like pornography. 

"None of the actual sex, but suggestive. The girls holding hands, kissing, 
caressing," Harris explained. "When they got to the point of going down on 
each other and sixty-nining, well, from there on it was just for the private 
collection. Understand?" 

"I'd like to see the whole series sometime," said Russ with a grin. But at 
the same time he glanced across the pool to a shaded table, studying his 
voluptuous blonde wife as she sat talking animatedly with Shawna Gael. 

He saw Shawna's hand touching, lightly caressing Julie's bare knees, and 
Julie apparently not noticing. For a moment anger rose in him and then he 
had second thoughts. Julie was just too repressed. If Shawna led her into a 
little girl sex, then maybe she'd do some special things for him because of 
guilt feelings. And she might-just might, if confronted with an accusation 
of having a lesbian affair-agree to the nude shots Harris wanted. They could 
sure use the money. 

* * * 

Julie was actually oblivious to the fingers caressing the hot flesh of her 
thigh as Shawna talked. She'd had several drinks and the heat of the day was 
making her mind a little unclear. Shawna was talking about modeling in a 
low, sultry voice. 

"Julie, I think Carleton Harris would like you to pose for his centerfold 
layout," she said confidingly. "I know him, and he's been looking your way 
all afternoon." 

"I've seen that magazine," Julie said crisply. "And it's a little far out 
for me. I'd rather wait tables than do nudes." 

"You're confusing porn and art," Shawna said firmly. "If you go to a museum 
and see a magnificent nude painted hundreds of years ago, are you offended?" 

"Well ... noooo," Julie admitted. 

"Take a stroll through the Louvre sometime and see what they have on the 
walls. Millions of people have looked at those masterpieces and come away 
stunned by their beauty. Now, Carleton Harris publishes equally beautiful 
things, but in a different medium ... one which reaches millions every 
month." 

"Who wants to be ogled by millions?" the tawny-haired girl asked. 

"If the work is exquisite, I do!" Shawna retorted, squeezing the smooth 
flesh of Julie's upper thigh. "Do you think I'd pose for anything obscene?" 

"Of course not," Julie replied immediately. 

"Well, you just come with me into the house and I'll show you an advance 
copy of Harris' mag. I'm the back-of-the-book girl and I defy you to find 
anything obscene in it ... unless you think the human body is obscene." 

Somewhat stunned and woozy from the heat and drinks, Julie let herself be 
led into the rambling, air-conditioned house. Chris had a full laboratory 
set up there, and an adjoining room was well equipped for viewing and 
editing. Throughout the magnificent house, which Julie guessed had cost at 
least a quarter of a million dollars with its lushly landscaped ground in 
the middle of a barren desert there were scores of matted oversize prints in 
both black and white and color on the walls. Julie silently admitted that 
Chris Gael was indeed an artist with his camera. She had thought Russ was 
good, but compared to Chris, he was barely out of the amateur class, and if 
the older man would help him with his career it would be a godsend. 

"Here's the mag with little me," said Shawna, selecting a copy from a filing 
case. "Flip through it and while you're doing that I'll put the master 
slides and we can look at them in the projection room. You'll see the shots 
used in the magazine are much softer, more diffused than the originals." 

"Okay," Julie agreed. In her scanty bikini, she suddenly felt cold in the 
air-conditioned house. She followed Shawna into a dim room in which both 
slide projectors and a large motion-picture projector were flanked by 
comfortable chairs and couches. There was even a small bar, and Julie didn't 
protest as Shawna mixed her a gin-and-tonic. As the auburn-haired woman 
began pulling slide magazines from a concealed bank of filing cabinets, 
Julie began to flip through the magazine. Her eyes widened when she saw the 
photo layout and she gasped, "Oh, gosh!" 

She was stunned. She had expected to see Shawna naked ... but except for the 
full frontal shots, she wasn't alone, but with another beautiful girl. They 
were holding hands and kissing and fondling each other. In one full-page 
shot they lay together in tall grass, their long legs entwined, and 
Shaw-na's sultry mouth, with the pink tip of her tongue sliding wetly over 
her lips, was bending over the other girl's firmly rounded breasts as her 
partner lay with her eyes nearly shut and a hand at the back of Shawna's 
head, drawing it downward to her breast. The setting was an idyllic glade. 
In another photo, Shawna knelt before the other girl, who was standing, 
running her hands through a mass of blonde hair as Shawna's hands were 
drawing the front of her faded jeans open and Shawna's face was pressed 
tight to her belly, her cheek brushing the soft triangle of pubic hair. Her 
cunt wasn't visible, but it was obvious what was about to happen. 

The photos were accompanied by low-keyed text which strove to make the point 
that love between two women could be beautiful. 

"Oh, my God!" Julie whispered as she read on and her dark eyes returned 
repeatedly to one photo or another. As the first shock wore off, she 
carefully read the text and examined the picture spread. Attempting to be 
objective, she finally had to admit to herself that she could find nothing 
obscene or vulgar-and even to wonder what it would be like to pose for such 
a thing. Would she become excited, holding another girl, kissing her? This 
was something she'd never even thought of before and she ruefully admitted 
that it could happen. How could you be in such intimate contact with another 
person without feeling something? Her head swiming, she mumbled, "They are 
... very well done." 

"Then you don't think they're dirty?" Shawna pressed. 

"No ... in a way, it's beautiful," Julie confessed. 

"There are seventeen pictures in that layout," Shawna said. "To get them, 
Chris made over seven-hundred shots. I'll show you a few of the slides that 
didn't make it because the light or facial expression or positions were 
wrong." She switched on the automatic slide projector and fed a magazine 
into, adjusting the focus on the big screen which covered most of the 
opposite wall. 

The brilliant transparencies began to click through at ten-second intervals. 
Julie found herself mesmerized by the images of Shawna and her partner. It 
seemed Chris Gael must have worked on this assignment the same way Russ had 
shot the fashion job-with a motor-driven camera, moving all the time as the 
two models went through the sequences naturally rather than posing for 
individual shots. There was a series from which the one of Shawna about to 
kiss the blonde's breast appeared. 

It began with Shawna kissing the other girl's ear, her tongue extended. And 
then their mouths were glued together. Four shots later, Shawna's wet lips 
were enclosing the nipple of the blonde's breast while her hand squeezed the 
other breast, hardening the tiny berry-like nipple. 

And then she gradually moved lower, her fingers seeking in the pale triangle 
of pubic hair as her dreamy-eyed face lay on her partner's softly rounded 
belly. 

Julie Bourbon gasped in disbelief when she saw the next frame. 

Shawna was kneeling between the other girl's wide-splayed legs and her long 
wetly pink tongue was slithering into the coral-hued depths of the girl's 
vagina! 

And they both had such blissful expressions on their faces! 

Click! Another slide moved behind the lens and this one showed the sleek 
thighs of the pale-haired girl locked tightly around the burrowing face. 

"Shawna!" Julie, her face going white with shock, and then blushing 
furiously red, stared at her hostess, who was at the moment refreshing their 
drinks and facing away from the screen. 

"Oh, damn!" Shawna said in faked annoyance. "I'm sorry, honey. I thought 
those were all weeded out." 

She stopped the projector, plucked out the offending transparencies and 
flipped them into a wastebasket as she shrugged and said, "Things get a 
little out of hand sometimes. And let's face it-I'm not exactly an angel. 
That was a very long shooting session and I got excited, I guess. It doesn't 
happen often but I remember that Chris and I were having one of our periodic 
beefs. I guess I wanted to show him something ... and when you put in about 
five hours caressing and kissing anybody, it gets to you!" 

"And ... what ... did ... he ... do?" the bewildered Julie asked. 

"Chris is cool. He left us alone." Shawna tossed her long hair and smiled 
knowingly. "He knew I was hacked at him and that I was just in the mood to 
say 'yes' to the first guy who wanted to fuck me. He'd rather have me blow 
my frustration with a girl than another man." 

"I'm-I'm confused," the young tawny-haired bride mumbled. 

"I didn't mean to blow your mind, Julie," Shawna lied. "It never occurred to 
me those shots were in there. Well, I guess you won't want to look at any 
more art." 

"No." 

"Well, try to forget it if you can," Shawna said. "Maybe we should go back 
to the party." 

They did. The aftershock of what she had seen on the screen began to hit 
Julie Bourbon and she drank more than she ever had in her life. She could 
hardly wait to get Russ aside and tell him, but he was obviously involved 
with Chris Gael and Carleton Harris. She knew this meeting could be very 
important to her husband's budding career and didn't want to interrupt, so 
she drifted from one group to another, steadying her nerves with drink after 
drink brought by a houseboy, and barely nibbling at the lavish buffet which 
had been set out. Visions of Shawna with the other model kept flashing 
through her mind like bursts of multicolored lights seen through a 
kaleidoscope and as the alcohol fogged her brain she began to see it a 
little bit Shawna's way. 

Of course, she could never have sex with a woman, even as a one-time 
experiment, but it was sort of exciting to think of others doing it. At one 
point she almost asked Shawna to show the rest of the slides. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

"I tell you I know Julie and she won't go for it," Russ Bourbon insisted as 
he talked in a quiet corner with Carleton Harris and Chris Gael. "She won't 
even pose naked, let alone with a man, even if it's me. Now hell, I'm a pro! 
A job is a job. But I can't get that through her head." 

"Russ, think of the ten grand, and the name you'd be making," Chris argued. 

"Damn it, Vegas is full of beautiful chicks for skin shots," Russ argued. 
"Look, Carleton, let me line up a couple of models and shoot the layout on 
spec." 

"No way," the editor said firmly, his earlier friendliness now turning to 
cold. "I want Julie because she's fresh and young and we need a heterosexual 
spread to follow the lesbian layout. Goddamn it, if Shawna can do that kind 
of number why can't your wife? Shit, we're not asking her to fuck on 
camera." 

"I know," Russ conceded. He felt like a donkey with a carrot dangled in 
front of his nose, but this maybe the most important carrot of his life. And 
it was high time Julie quit acting like a nun. He would just have to be firm 
in maneuvering her, and that might take a little time. He said, "Let me work 
on her." 

"I can give you two weeks. Otherwise I'll have to find another girl ... and 
another photographer, Bourbon," the editor said. "If you can produce, you'll 
have a lot of high-fee work. But you can understand why a magazine with a 
circulation of over six-million paid can't wait on the whims of a prudish 
little girl." 

"I know," Russ grated. "I'll take care of Julie." 

"I think there's only one answer," Chris said after the editor had left to 
catch a night flight to the East Coast. "Russ, we have to present Julie with 
a fait accompli." 

"I'm not sure what you mean," the young photographer said slowly. 

"She's young, pretty and not too bright." He glanced around and caught sight 
of a somewhat wavering Julie in the lights which had now been turned on by 
the pool. He knew Shawna had managed to carry off the shocker scene to 
perfection and also knew that Russ was a hungry young man on the way up, 
willing to discard scruples in favor of advancement. "Also a little bit 
tipsy at the moment. Now, we'll have to play the cards as they fall, but you 
two stay here tonight, after the others leave. Fake being drunk, and Shawna 
and I'll do likewise so we've an excuse not to drive you home. The phone 
will be turned off, so we can't call a cab. The houseboy is going home, so 
there'll just be the four of us." 

"So it's blackmail ... but subtle blackmail." Russ thought about it for a 
minute, then finally said, "How?" 

"Leave that to Shawna." The older man winked. "Give her plenty of time and 
she'll have Julie climbing the walls." 

"You mean Shawna...." Russ mumbled. 

"Shawna swings both ways and don't think that if she sets her mind to it, 
she can't steal any girl out from under you ... or me." Chris grinned and 
lit a cigarette. "Of course, you catch them and raise hell. Don't beat on 
Julie-bruises aren't pretty-and then you take her home and put in a few days 
keeping her in the doghouse. You're ready to forgive her if she'll pose for 
Harris. And while you've got her over a barrel, lay an even heavier scene on 
her. Find yourself some cunt and stay out all night, and let it get back to 
her ... she'll figure she's going to lose you. She'll do the number then. 
Guaranteed." 

"I should knock you right on your ass," Russ said. 

"All right, I'm a prick," the other replied amiably as he gestured to the 
expensive house and grounds. "I didn't get this by being a nice guy ... or 
letting any pretty little quiff stand in the way. Our world is full of 
pussy. Remember that! You get a chick that goes along and helps you every 
way, like Shawna. Or you get yourself a millstone to hang around your neck 
and you're lucky to wind up with a two-room commercial studio in some place 
like Grants Pass, Oregon. A ten-year-old car and nobody will give you a 
mortgage for a house. Think about it." 

Russ thought, balancing luxury against poverty, and his decision was almost 
immediate. If Julie was half the sensual creature little Mike was, he would 
have pondered longer, but as it was, her stiff-necked attitudes toward sex 
had virtually castrated him. This would be rough on her, but maybe for her 
own good.... 

"Yes," he said. "Arrange it." 

* * * 

Julie Bourbon kept thinking she was drunk and should go home. The party had 
broken up and only she and Russ were left. And he was someplace in the big 
house talking photography and markets and things like that with Chris Gael. 
Knowing how important this could be to him, she didn't want to intrude and 
ask him to take her home. 

And she had Shawna to talk to. By now her drink-fuzzed brain had accepted 
Shawna's bisexuality and it no longer bothered her. 

To the tawny-haired girl it seemed they must all be a little drunk. It had 
been a long, hot afternoon by the pool and the liquor had flowed copiously. 
There had been plenty to eat, but she hadn't felt hungry ... she had almost 
been too nervous to eat anything. Julie sat in a deeply upholstered chair in 
the game room, watching a situation comedy on television with Shawna. She 
seemed to be sticking to the chair and finally muttered, "Darn suntan 
lotion-it's worse than glue." 

"I'm thinking the same thing," Shawna agreed as from a bar cart she poured 
Julie her third Pernod over the ice. "I think we should scrub the stuff off, 
after this one." 

"A shower might be great for me," Julie mumbled as she sipped the 
licorice-flavored pale-green liqueur. "My head is spinning." 

"You were out in the hot sun a long time. Drink up and let's get it over 
with while our men are talking." 

To Julie it seemed like a fine idea. She stood and swayed on her long, 
shapely legs, trying to bring the room into focus. And then Shawna, her own 
dark tresses swaying, was leading her through the big house by the hand, 
into a vast mirrored bedroom which adjoined a combination bath and dressing 
room. From a wardrobe Shawna took short terry-cloth bathrobes and shower 
caps. Towels were already laid out. The opaque door to the shower stood open 
and Julie found herself staring at the veined-marbled walls and fixtures 
which she knew instinctively were gold. She had read of such things in 
magazines but never actually seen one before. Shawna was stepping out of her 
tiny bikini, freeing her bountiful breasts and then casually dropping the 
triangular scrap of cloth which covered her smooth loins. 

Julie hesitated. In college, living in a dorm, she had thought nothing of 
being naked with the other coeds in the shower room. But through her mind 
flashed the picture of Shawna making love with the blonde model. Then, her 
natural suspicions dimmed by the liquor she had consumed, she told herself 
nothing like that could happen, not with Russ and Chris in the house. And 
hadn't Shawna said it was a spontaneous thing brought on by prolonged 
physical contact with the other girl? Well, she was old enough to take care 
of herself! 

Nevertheless, she turned her back as she unhooked the flimsy top of her 
bikini and let her breasts escape their confinement. She thought she must be 
getting bigger because there were red lines impressed into the resilient 
white globes. Bending, she sent the bottom of the revealing swimsuit 
slithering down her long sun-tanned legs as Shawna started the bank of 
shower sprays going. 

"Whoops!" Julie gulped as, stepping into the pummeling blast of water, she 
nearly fell. Shawna was standing spreadeagled, her body taking the full 
force of the stream as she lathered herself with scented soap. Her firm 
breasts jiggled and Julie could see the thrusting spikes of her nipples 
growing longer as slowly Shawna's fingers began to rub rich lather into her 
nearly alabaster body, lingering in the dark-reddish bush of her pubic hair. 
Julie reached for a cake of soap and began to scrub at the sticky suntan 
lotion. Bending, she became dizzy and nearly fell but quickly Shawna caught 
her and set her on her feet again. "I think I drank too much," Julie said. 
"I never drink!" 

"It's from all the heat you took, Julie," Shawna said comfortingly. But the 
auburn-haired bisexual wife knew better. It was the liquor. She'd really 
slugged the innocent blonde beauty with the three Pernods and the 
innocent-tasting aphrodisiac would begin to hit the taffy-haired girl in a 
few minutes, insidiously drawing her into a carefully prepared web. Chris 
had managed to whisper the news that the proposition had been put to Russ 
and that the younger man was willing to sacrifice his wife on their altar of 
lust, to which Shawna, with a wicked flickering of her long, skilled tongue 
had said, "I'll do my part, lover." 

"Yeah ... you'll eat the prettiest pussy in Vegas and I'll get nothing." 

"You know better," Shawna had replied lewdly. "You'll get the best trip 
around the world you ever had!" 

Now Julie was losing coordination. Repeatedly she dropped the soap and had 
to fumble for it in the torrent of water, and then she felt Shawna's hands 
steadying her and heard the other's voice. 

"Hey, maybe you did have a little too much to drink! I'll help you finish 
your shower and then you can take a nap until Russ is ready to go home." 

Blinking, trying to focus deep-dark eyes which suddenly wouldn't track, 
Julie felt the deft hands washing her trembling body. Deep in her little 
flat belly she tingled as fingers slipped lightly along the pale-furred 
cleft of her cunt and caressed her breasts. She thought she should object, 
but it did feel gooood.... 

And then she was being helped into the carpeted dressing room, bracing 
herself against a weaving wall for support as, using a huge fluffy towel, 
Shawna patted her dry. Then Julie sat on a cushioned stool and watched 
Shawna wipe her own flesh dry. 

And then, unprotesting, Julie allowed herself to be led to the opulent 
bedroom adjoining. The air conditioning had been turned off and it was 
comfortably warm. With a sigh of relief, she let herself tumble onto the 
king-sized bed that was illuminated by tricky lamps giving the effect of 
flickering candlelight, and she drowsily found them hypnotic. 

"Just take a little sleep, Julie," Shawna was saying. "Half an hour and 
you'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again. I'll leave the dim lights on 
so you won't be confused when you wake up." 

"You're nice, Shawna," Julie murmured, closing her eyes and beginning to 
drift. Her head was still spinning, but not so badly now that she was lying 
in this wonderful big soft bed with the restful lighting. The slender girl 
with wheat-hued hair let herself sink into the luxury, wondering if she and 
Russ would ever have anything like this. She heard the soft click of the 
door as the rich-bodied woman left, and for perhaps ten minutes was able to 
relax completely. And then there was a subtle restlessness in her loins. She 
wanted Russ to be with her, his penis long and iron-hard, plunging like a 
hot piston into her vagina. She could feel the soft lips of her pussy 
flowering open ... and she knew it was a futile hope. Russ had been 
drinking, and it seemed that if he took only one or two drinks, he couldn't 
get an erection these days. Restlessly Julie Bourbon's yearning young body 
began to undulate on the bed, and her fingers searched for her cuntal cleft. 
They found their seething target and began to rub and probe and go deep into 
her desire-filled cunt and even as she lay on the thin border of sleep, the 
taffy-haired girl began to pant. 

Through a two-way mirror in the adjoining room, Shawna Gael watched with 
mounting desire and anticipation. Finally she turned her sensuous body away, 
reluctantly abandoning her voyeurism for the moment and padded on bare feet 
to the richly appointed den where Chris and Russ were waiting. She flashed 
her passion-heavy smile at them and said, "It's beautiful! She's half asleep 
and so hot she's playing with herself." 

"That I'd like to see," Chris said. 

"You stay behind that mirror until I've had at least an hour with her," 
Shawna said curtly. "You know how I am! I have to be with a girl awhile, get 
myself and her worked up. And after that I don't care if you put it on 
network television. And Russ-we took a shower together, and Julie's really 
responsive." 

"Meaning what?" the slender, dark-haired photographer asked. 

"She may want to do me," Shawna said. 

"Horse shit!" Russ retorted. "Julie'd never ... I mean, she's going to be 
shook as hell with just you touching her. You'll be lucky if she doesn't 
claw your eyes out!" 

"I know more about women than you do," Shawna told him. "Now if she does get 
the urge and you catch her in the act, there's no chance she'll dare argue 
with you on doing the layout for Harris." She smiled wickedly and bent low 
to pick a cigarette from a leather box on the table. "And it might spring 
loose some of her inhibitions. She might want to sock your cock." 

"Russ Bourbon, instant pimp," he said in bitter self-accusation. "You could 
have a point. So, go get in bed with her and eat her like candy." 

When Shawna returned to the room the Pernod-drugged blonde bride was moaning 
softly, hardly moving, her fingers slowly sliding in and out of the aroused 
lips of her cunt, playing languorously with the soft, pale curls which 
framed it. Almost without a sound the excited auburn-haired woman turned 
down the soft lights. Then slipping her robe off she lay on the bed, careful 
not to rock it. 

"Ummmmmm...." Julie murmured, stroking her lubricious young pussy and in her 
half-awakened state feeling consuming carnal desire. When Shawna brushed her 
gleaming dark hair back and bent low over Julie to kiss her lightly but 
searchingly on her hungrily parted lips the tawny-haired girl made no 
protest. Instead her mouth slowly opened and welcomed the probing tongue of 
the older woman. She sighed, "Ooooohhhh ... Russssss!!!" 

Gradually, with a skill learned over the years, Shawna increased the 
pressure of the kiss and its passionate intensity, easing her deft tongue 
deep into Julie's virgin mouth, which was now beginning to suck. Julie began 
to tremble and undulate her smooth loins as Shawna's hand gently closed over 
Julie's resilient white breast and caress it, the fingers lightly pinching 
the rising bud of nipple. Julie's eyes were closed in reverie and her arm 
snaked around Shawna's neck and held her urgently as their tongues dueled. 
She was panting with rising passion when Shawna eased off the kiss, very 
slowly breaking away, and, her long tongue flickering, kissed down between 
the up-thrust mounds of Julie's quivering breasts until her soft, wet lips 
closed on a nipple and began to suck, first very lightly and then more 
demandingly as she felt the young blonde wife respond to what she thought 
was her husband's lovemaking. Now her golden legs began to scissor slowly, 
thighs rubbing together as a sheen of perspiration broke out on them. 

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh...." Julie sighed, here eyes closed in rupture. 

She felt a hand moving between her legs, spreading the sensitive inner flesh 
of her thighs, and with a groan of desire parted them wide as the fingers 
... strange, Russ' hands had always been rougher before; it must be all she 
had to drink ... finally brushed feather-light over the blood-engorged lips 
of her yearning young pussy. The hot wet mouth was slowly kissing lower and 
lower now, across the smoothness of her quaking belly. She almost cried out 
her wanton desire as the seeking mouth continued its journey. When the 
lashing tongue moved to the inside of her wide-splayed legs, she wanted to 
object-this was something she had always denied Russ-but the words wouldn't 
come. 

The squirming golden-maned girl could only think of the wild carnal desire 
that had every nerve end in her quivering body on the tingle as she began 
slow, rhythmical coital motions, thrusting her pale-tufted mound of Venus 
up, begging for Russ to fill it with his cock. 

But it wasn't a cock which answered her groaning plea, but the hot wet mouth 
and long, darting tongue that slashed up and down the full length of her 
seeping vaginal slit while hands caressed her trembling body in a 
tantalizing slow massage. 

"Ooooooohhhhhh ... you shouldn't!!!" Julie moaned, but the movements of her 
voluptuous young body denied the sincerity of the words. It was the most 
delightful sensation she had ever experienced as the deftly swirling tongue 
slithered like a snake into the depths of her clenching pussy and then back 
out to flicker like hummingbird wings over the hardened bud of her clitoris. 
Spasming, she locked her hot thighs around the burrowing face and began to 
fuck up to mouth as her natural carnality took over. "But it feels so 
gooooddd!!!" 

Out of control, the aroused young bride could only roll and thrash on the 
bed and whimper her pleasure until after a long time she felt the tidal wave 
of her orgasm begin deep in the churning depths of her loins and the heat of 
her juice gushing down to the palpitating lips of her gaping cunt. Only then 
did she open her eyes. 

"My God!" Julie gasped when she saw, bobbing frantically between her 
sinuously moving legs, not the face of her husband but the passion-contorted 
features of Shawna Gael! The shock froze her momentarily, her back arched 
with the urgency of her climax and she gasped, "Jesus!" 

"You want me to stop now, darling?" Shawna said, starting to rise from her 
subserviently kneeling position. "I will...." 

"Aaaaaauuuugggghhhh!!!" Julie Bourbon almost screamed as wildly she grabbed 
the beautiful auburn-haired head and violently pulled it back to her gushing 
vaginal mouth. She didn't know how this had happened, but it was so 
overwhelming she knew she could keep cumming all night. 

Repentance could come later. This was a time for savage lust. She begged, 
"Eat meeeeeee!!! Ooooohhhh!!!" 

Julie lost count of how many times the hot wetly sucking mouth and probing 
tongue brought her to ecstasy. And when Shawna finally broke the oral 
contact, almost in tears knowing the sensual delight was about to end, Julie 
pleaded, "Just a little more ... your mouth is so soft...." 

"And my neck feels like it's about to break, baby," Shawna said. "Every time 
you hump up it's like getting hit in the jaw by a pro boxer." Reading the 
naked savage desire on Julie's lust-twisted feature, she knew now was the 
moment to make her move, while the passion-drenched young girl was still 
burning with an unquenchable fire in her seething sweet little cunt. Shawna 
lifted herself from the vee of Julie's trembling long legs and, twisting, 
settled down so they were face-to-loins as she nudged Julie from her back 
onto her side. Drawing the blonde's legs apart, Shawna again buried her face 
in the sweet cuntal well, at the same time shifting so their bodies touched 
closely and parting her own long, shapely legs as she sinuously ground her 
pubic mound toward Julie's face that was so close Shawna could feel the heat 
of Julie's excited breathing on her cunt. She reached to stroke Julie's 
trembling back, her hand moving higher and higher until it was gently but 
insistently pressing on the back of Julie's tangled mass of pale hair. 

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!" Julie cried out in the torment of surrender to her 
unnatural desires. She couldn't help herself, and now understood what Shawna 
had meant about impulses when you're in close physical contact with another 
beautiful woman. With shaking fingers she parted the ragged fringes of 
Shawna's pussylips and stared at the dewy gleaming coral-flushed flesh of 
her labia for only a few seconds before ravenously gluing her virginal mouth 
to it and jabbing desperately with the tip of her slender pink tongue. Her 
passionate lips sucked the pungent sweetness of the cuntal mouth as her 
nostrils flared and she breathed the heady female secretions even as she 
wildly ground her own dripping pubis against Shawna's more skilled but no 
more avid mouth. She groaned with mounting desire as she sought every way to 
lick and kiss and suck this delicious cunt. "Uuuummmmmmmmm...." 

How is something like this happening to me? Julie asked herself in a 
delirium of carnal licking as her frenzied fingers closed tightly over 
Shawna's clenching ass cheecks and pulled her closer. 

* * * 

"I'll be goddamned," Russ Bourbon muttered in sheer awe as he and Chris 
Gael, from behind the two-way mirror, watched the two tightly entwined women 
roll on the bed as their passion reached a new peak. "Julie ... queer!" 

"Not queer, Russ ... just getting liberated," the older photographer said, 
snapping a picture. 

"Wait until they cum again, and then we do the outraged-husband number, 
okay?" 

"Yeah," the stunned younger man muttered. "Sure." 

* * * 

Thrashing in the pale light, their long hair flailing, the two lesbian 
lovers sought new peaks of sensual pleasure. Against her ravenous lips and 
plunging tongue, Julie Bourbon felt the wild spasming begin in the 
juice-seeping loins of Shawna, and then a shudder that seemed to rip her 
body apart. Instinctively Julie glued her hot mouth to the jerking pussy as 
her tongue swirled over the tiny hard button of Shawna's clitoris ... and 
suddenly it happened! 

A great gush of hot, savory cum flooded into her eagerly devouring mouth, 
even as once again she rose to a peak of flesh-ripping orgasm. Julie gulped 
and licked and sucked and breathed the rich aroma of aroused womanhood until 
she was weak. Equally exhausted, if not more so, the auburn-haired girl 
released her frantic grip on Julie and they fell apart, now only lightly 
kissing and licking each other's wetly glistening cunts. 

"What a beautiful fucking sight!" 

As if struck by lightning, Julie rolled away from her girl-lover, still 
swallowing the sweet cuntjuice as she stared in horror into the dark 
accusing eyes of her obviously enraged young husband. 

"Oooh, Russ...." she sobbed. 

"Lesbian bitch!" he shouted and started toward her, his fists clenched, his 
mouth tight. "You won't suck my cock but you jump in bed and eat her cunt! 
I'm gonna beat you black and blue before I throw you out on your ass ... tie 
you to the trailer hitch of the wagon bare-ass and drag you home!" 

"Russ, you won't, because I won't let you," Chris Gael said, coming in on 
cue as if from a Gay 90's melodrama. "We've all had a lot to drink. 
Otherwise nothing like this would have happened, I'm sure. Now, I think you 
should leave ... alone while we all sober up. We'll see that Julie gets home 
all right in a cab in the morning. And I'll call one for you now." 

"You tellin' me how to handle my wife, you sonofabitch?" Russ roared 
according to their script. "I'll beat your ass bloody and fuck your wife!" 

"I don't think you could do either," Chris said. He pointed to the door and 
said, "Go," winking. "You're sober enough to drive now-take your own car." 

Russ Bourbon filled the air with curses, according to plans made earlier, 
and went. 

Only an innocent young girl would be taken in by their instantly-planned 
amateur play, but Julie was so confused she could only stare and hope for 
her own survival, which at that moment meant having her husband go his way 
and leave her alone to her remorse. The thought of the perversion she'd 
indulged in overwhelmed her, and she felt great relief when Russ slammed the 
door and their old station wagon coughed itself to life and finally roared 
away. 

"Oh, my God!" she whimpered as the taillights disappeared. 

"Honey, he'll get over it ... we were all drinking too much," Shawna Gael 
said comfortingly. "Come on, we've got extra bedrooms and by morning he'll 
have calmed down." 

"I don't want to sleep alone ... not after this!" the tortured young bride 
cried. "There's a security man at the hotel ... I know he wants to sleep 
with me ... seems like a nice guy...." 

"You can sleep in our bed ... with us," Shawna said. "This has been a rough 
experience, I know, but we've shared it." 

"Oh ... yes ... yes," Julie Bourbon sobbed. "I need to be with people...." 

"Chris and I will have sex," Shawna said. "After being with you, I want him 
too ... Being with a girl only makes me hotter for my man. You don't have to 
watch." 

"I think I want to watch," Julie said impulsively. "I want to lie close to 
you ... if you don't mind." She bit her lip. "I want to feel what you feel 
... to be part of you...." 

"Julie," Chris Gael said. "I think you should know. Shawna and I make love 
every way there is. I know your background and a lot of it will shock you." 

"How can I be shocked after what I've done tonight-and loved it?" the lovely 
young blonde responded. "I want to see all the things I've been missing ... 
and to hell with Russ! I've held back too much, I suppose. Oh, let's go into 
the bedroom and-and be together!" 

"Chris might get homey and try to fuck hard up into your pussy, Julie," 
Shawna warned. 

"It's about time somebody did!" the aroused blonde cried. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Russ Bourbon drove away completely sober, discarding his enraged-husband 
act, eventually heading back to downtown Vegas. It was late at night and his 
mind was full of the things that had happened to his taffy-haired, 
big-titted young bride, and the things that she would encounter in the next 
few hours. She just had too much spirit and had to be broken, like a balky 
mule. Well, Shawna had broken her part of the way. Meanwhile, just the 
thought of her eating Shawna's pussy got him hard as a rock and he had to 
find a way to get rid of the hard-on. The Strip and downtown were filled 
with bars and casinos filled with whores who were also rip-off artists, and 
picking up one of them didn't seem smart. 

He thought of the little girl, Mike, and his cock got harder and longer. He 
found a phone booth and dialed the number she had given him. She picked it 
up on the second ring. 

"You want to fuck?" 

"Russ ... I thought you'd never ask!" How can such a sultry voice come from 
such a little girl? he wondered. He heard her chuckle. "But I don't have the 
strength. I need a king-size pizza, everything but anchovies, lots tomato, 
cheese, pepperoni, salami, sausage but no damn little fish. And beer to wash 
it down. By the time you've got it, I'll be sweetly squeaky clean from the 
shower ... and will you stay all night?" 

"You bet your sweet ass," he said, grinning. 

"I'd like it that way," the elfin girl said, laughing. 

"No straight fucking?" the photographer said. He wanted to split her lean 
body with his hard cock. 

"Well ... maybe if we turn the lights out. I'm afraid you'll get a good look 
at the titless wonder and jump out the window." 

"For chrissakes, get that tit-fixation out of your pretty head," he snapped. 
"I'll be by in about an hour." 

"Hurry ... I'm starving. And Russ, don't push. I may have a hangup about my 
tits, but the rest of me seems to work," Mike said. "And tell them to put 
plenty of tomato sauce on the pizza. You hit the doorbell twice, once, then 
twice. Okay?" 

"Right ... and don't put perfume on your pussy ... it spoils the taste." 

"Ha! I laugh! Thinking of you eating me while I eat pizza. You know, that's 
kooky enough to sound like fun!" She chuckled again. 

As he hung up, Russ Bourbon thought, Fucking nutty broad ... but she turns 
me on ... I'll lick her little cunt and her asshole until she flies out the 
window! And fuck that queer Julie ... she's in bed with Chris and Shawna and 
God-only knows what she's doing.... 

* * * 

Still woozy from the liquor she'd consumed and the terrible confrontation 
with Russ, Julie allowed herself to be led back to the big bed. The softly 
flickering hypnotic lights still illuminated the room and it seemed so good 
just to lie down. She knew she should be shocked at this situation but 
didn't care any more. 

"Don't let it bug you, honey," Shawna said as she knelt over Julie. "Russ 
will cool down. We're glad to have you with us and you just let go and do 
anything you feel like. Now, Chris and I are going to have some sex ... and 
it makes it more exciting if someone is watching," She began to slowly 
stroke the photographer's cock, rolling the fleshy foreskin between her 
fingers. "It's one thing we agreed on before we decided to marry. 

Sex every night. We understand each other. He fucks his models or they suck 
him every day and I find what I can but when we're together in this bed 
there's only the two of us." She chuckled. "We compare notes." She pumped 
her husband's cock slowly and said to him, "I've had a good time tonight ... 
what kind of good time would you like?" 

"How about a long, slow blow-job?" he said, grinning. 

"If you can get it up," Shawna giggled, bending over his loins. 

"That's your department." He pinched her smooth asscheeks as she took his 
penis and brought it to her softly ovaling lips and began to blow her hot 
breath over it as her fingers lewdly stroked the thickening shaft and the 
purplish-red head grew to overwhelming dimensions. Julie couldn't understand 
how such a monstrous organ could fit inside the redhead's mouth and she 
watched, fascinated as Shawna's tongue-the tongue which had so hungrily 
drilled deep into her own seeping cunt just a short time ago, bringing her 
so much obscene pleasure, began to lave the bulbous head and drill into the 
little hole from which a thin whitish fluid pearled. This was the same thing 
she'd watched in shock on the day Russ shot the blue movie, but that was 
different. Those two were being paid to perform in a perverted way. But from 
the deep smile of pleasure on Shawna's face, Julie knew that the 
auburn-haired wife was doing this for her own pleasure! 

Slowly the flat of her tongue encircled the ridge of the throbbing cockhead, 
wetting it thoroughly, making it glisten with her flowing saliva as Shawna's 
hand held her husband's balls, fingering their semen-heavy weight. She 
turned her deep-green eyes to Julie and said, "Kiss him ... we'll both make 
love to him." 

As if mesmerized, the pale-haired young girl bent over Chris Gael's face, 
her long hair tumbling over him like wheat straw tossed in the wind, and 
pressed her mouth to his. Her lips parted at the sliding, proving touch of 
his hot tongue and she found herself sucking it deep into her mouth. She 
groaned in erotic pleasure as she felt his hands cupping the fullness of her 
breasts, and his fingers tweaking the rising hardness of her berry-like 
nipples. From the corner of her eyes as she was kissed and caressed, she 
watched in dazed awe what Shawna was doing. 

She was licking the lust-engorged head of her husband's thick penis slowly, 
and her lips were ovaling over her fine white teeth as her mouth gaped wide 
and finally enclosed the mushroom-shaped tip. Her cheeks hollowed as she 
sucked. 

And then with agonizing slowness, Shawna's ecstatic, beautiful face went 
lower and lower and inch by inch the rigid pole of Chris's manhood 
disappeared between the salivating lips until Shawna's nose was buried in 
the thick triangle of his pubic hair. Julie could hear the older woman moan 
with pleasure ... and then her head was slowly rising, her lips peeling open 
as the staff emerged from her sucking mouth until only the bulbous head 
remained between them. Time after time the lovely face went up and down, 
tantalizingly. 

"Kiss my body," Chris whispered as his loins rose in rhythm with his wife's 
sucking. 

Her breasts expertly fondled, her mouth warm from his kisses, her mind 
stunned and fascinated by what she was taking part in, Julie Bourbon made no 
resistance as Chris Gael's hands guided her wetly hot mouth to his chest and 
to his male nipples. It occurred to her she had never kissed Russ this way, 
and she quickly discovered something amazing. 

Under the soft caress of her lips and tongue, Chris' nipples were hardening 
and elongating! She'd always thought that on a man they were no more than 
pimples, bits of flesh which would feel nothing. But there was no mistaking 
the response as they grew in her hot mouth. Tentatively she nibled with her 
sharp little teeth and heard the man groan in pleasure and Julie thought 
that from the disaster of this night, she might learn things which would 
make her marriage to Russ much more meaningful. She found her hands straying 
down over his. hard-muscled belly, even into the bush of his pubic hair 
while he continued to play tantalizingly with her heavy breasts. 

It was all wrong, Julie knew, but she couldn't help herself. She had never 
known such slow and tender lovemaking as even while she caressed and was 
caressed in turn she could watch the soft lips of Shawna sliding easily now 
up and down the rigid pole of Chris' staff. It still wasn't clear in her 
befuddled mind how such a huge organ could be completely absorbed into the 
auburn-haired girl's mouth, but it was, and from the moans coming deep from 
Shawna's throat, she wanted it. 

"Lick me all over," Chris murmured, his hand urging her head down the length 
of his muscular body. 

Obediently, Julie began to lave him with her tongue, now kissing without 
restraint. She discovered he tingled when she ran her hot little tongue into 
his navel and with salacious delight bit him. 

She was so aroused that she felt no shock when Shawna sought her hand and 
drew it to the semen-heavy sac of Chris Gael's balls. Now her face was only 
scant inches from Shawna's and she could scent the rich smell of his manhood 
as Shawna's mouth worked with agonizing slowness up and down the turgid 
length of his male-flesh. 

It was the most sensual, entrancing experience young Julie had ever known 
... and it went on ... and on ... and on ... until she found herself wanting 
to do what Shawna was doing ... the forbidden thing she had denied her own 
husband! Julie groaned and continued to kiss Chris Gael's trembling body 
until it was wet with her saliva, and an eternity passed. 

And then abruptly the auburn-haired girl who had been so languorously 
fellating her husband let his saliva-glistening cock slip from her mouth and 
whispered to Julie, "Darling, my mouth is getting tired ... would you like 
to...?" 

Julie gasped but found herself whispering, "I-yes ... but I never have ... 
not even for Russ!" 

"I'll help you," Shawna said softly. "Here, just let's lick it together at 
first, and it'll come naturally to you." 

Holding the rigid, saliva-slick penis straight up, Shawna drew Julie's mouth 
toward it. For a moment the lovely young blonde held back but as she saw 
Shawna's tongue flick out over the bulbous head of the throbbing cock, she 
surrendered and let her wetly parted lips be brought into contact with the 
hot, wet spear. Surprisingly, it was not an unpleasant situation, and she 
found it erotically exciting to be sliding her vaginal mouth up and down the 
length of it as she held Chris Gael's ball in her hand. 

"Ummmmmm...." she sighed, and her little pink tongue slithered from between 
her lubricious lips and began to lick at the sweetness. Under their dual 
caress, Chris was undulating slowly, lying back and watching the two 
beautiful young women work on his aroused body. Julie felt Shawna's hand 
caress her, sliding from her resilient conical breasts down to the dampness 
of her pussy and back and knew she had passed the point of no return. She 
let herself be guided by the deft hands until she felt the warm, wet rubbery 
head of the cock rubbing across her cheeks and lips. She told herself this 
was carnal, sinful, but couldn't help herself as her lips opened wide. Yet 
she hesitated. 

It was so huge! How could she ever! She could hear her own feverish panting 
of desire like a rasping file on metal and Julie moaned, "Aaaaahhhh!!!" 

"Take it in your mouth, honey," Shawna whispered in her ear. "Go down!" 

There was soft but insistent pressure on the back of Julie's head and she 
was too befuddled by drink and carnal arousal to resist. Narrowing her eyes 
to slits, she flicked out her tongue to taste the pungent fluid seeping from 
the little hole and with a great effort opened her young, soft mouth wide 
and drew the big mushroom-shaped head of Chris Gael's cock between her 
salivating lips. 

As Shawna caressed her tawny hair and head, Chris slowly fucked up into her 
unresisting lips. 

Deeper and deeper his cock sank into her gaping, uncertain mouth. The hot, 
rubbery head pressed against her soft palate and Julie gagged, trying to 
spit it out, but now they were both holding her head and there was no 
escape. 

"Relax, darling, you're going to like it," Shawna whispered in her ear, 
kissing it. "Just relax ... let your throat muscles open ... breathe through 
your nose, and don't try to suck yet. You can get all of it into your 
mouth." 

In a sudden fit of perversion, Julie wanted to do it! 

They were fondling her with their hands and all she could think of was 
devouring this delicious spear of manhood. A fraction of an inch at a time, 
she worked her mouth down and down the thick fleshy staff, feeling the 
heartbeat of the man with her tongue, until finally her nose was buried in 
his pubic hair and her lips were distended around the very base of his cock. 

God! She never thought her mouth could be stretched and stuffed so far. It 
was like trying to swallow a whole ear of corn ... and it was more exciting 
than anything that had ever happened to her, even the girl-love with Shawna. 
She found her throat muscles were relaxing and the choking sensation was 
gone, and Julie wondered what it would be like if Chris came in her mouth? 

If Chris came in her mouth? 

Of course he would! 

And now she wanted him to. Shoot his white hot cum into her grasping soft 
wet lips and down her eager throat into her quaking little belly! With a 
sudden urge of masochistic desire, she wished he would grab her by the hair 
and just fuck her mouth till her lips split. But he was only caressing her 
and slowly screwing into the depths of her yearning throat. 

She would have to do all of it. 

"Ummmmmm...." the lovely blonde moaned in abandon and began to furiously 
drive her avidly sucking mouth up and down the full length of his rampant 
manhood. She never let the head of his cock escape her ravenous lips and her 
tongue swirled over the heavy veined length of it as her taffy hair tossed 
and whirled over his loins and her face contorted with a lust she had never 
known before. 

She burrowed furiously between his wide-splayed legs, her cheeks hotly 
compressed around his cock. 

Out of her mind with carnal desire, Julie absorbed his penis to its thick 
base and then, distending her lips, managed to push his semen-laden balls 
into her mouth also and remained bent over him, sucking and licking until 
Chris groaned in a mixture of ecstasy and agony. 

"Keep at it honey, I'll shut him up," Shawna said with a lewd grin as she 
straddled her husband's face and drove her seething cunt down on his mouth, 
grinding her pussy tight against his face. 

Julie saw with wildly spinning eyeballs as she sucked furiously. It seemed 
to go on and on, and she wanted it to last forever, this luscious cock in 
her mouth, and yet she wanted him to cum hard, empty himself into her avid 
lips, taste and savor and swallow his semen. 

The aroused blonde felt Chris begin to jerk in her mouth and instinctively 
she released his cum-laden testicles and drew up on his throbbing penis 
until he was again free to fuck deep into her wet lips. 

She felt the explosion in his loins as his cock rammed into her throat and 
then the fire-hose gushing of his ejaculation. Hot and salty and so male, so 
delicious! Almost choking on the flood of it, she gulped and swallowed and 
sucked, her cheeks closed tight around the length of him as she felt it burn 
into her quaking belly. 

The sheer eroticism of it triggered her own response, and at the same 
instant she heard Shawna scream as she wildly ground her pussy into her 
husband's face, "I'M CUUUMMMMIIINNGG!!" 

Worshipping the magnificent phallus, Julie refused to surrender it from her 
voracious lips until it was spent and shriveled. Shawna was still rocking 
back and forth over Chris' gulping mouth. She was slick with sweat and made 
a kissing motion with her lips. 

Julie, cum drooling from the corners of her mouth, raised up and their lips 
and tongues met. 

In total exhaustion the three collapsed in the big bed, twined together, 
hugging and langurously kissing each other's flesh. 

"First time I've ever been sandwiched by two girls," Chris Gael said, 
reaching for breasts and asscheeks indiscriminately. "And how sweet it is!" 

* * * 

The steaming-hot pizza was burning Russ Bourbon's hand as he balanced it in 
its cardboard box while with the other hand he carried two six packs of 
Lucky Lager. Tucked under his arm was a bottle of raffia-wrapped Chianti. He 
had had no difficulty finding Mike's small apartment. He had ordered up the 
biggest pizza he could find, loaded with everything but fish and was oddly 
interested in how much the tiny girl would be able to eat. He was sure of 
one thing-he'd get a hell of a fuck out of it if she was anywhere as good at 
fucking as she was at sucking. 

She wanted him to screw her in the ass. 

He thought he'd split her apart that way. 

For some reason he didn't quite understand, he didn't want to hurt her. He 
wanted to hurt Julie. Pure Julie, who wouldn't suck his cock but would eat 
pussy. 

"I smell food," she said, answering the door. "I'm ravenous." 

He looked her up and down. She wore the shortest possible dress, its flared 
hem coming barely to the vee of her pubic mound. And there were two 
unmistakable bumps in front. Salaciously Russ licked his lips and said, "I 
knew you were hiding tits somewhere." 

"These came with the dress," Mike said flippantly. "Get in here and feed 
me." 

He followed her into the apartment. It was small but comfortable. The 
furnishings were Danish modern with some good teak pieces, but the kitchen 
was a pullman affair, but enough for a bachelor girl. Through an open door 
he glimpsed the bedroom. It had a big bed, big enough for a bachelor girl 
who had a friend. 

"Nice," he said. 

"Comfortable ... but not a real fuck palace," Mike said. "We eat in the 
living room. That pizza smells just fine." She swung around, showing 
beautiful legs and a bit of tightly clenching ass-cheeks. "Lay it all around 
and I'll get plates." 

He had bought the pizza, intended for a large party, mostly as a joke on 
her. It measured a full thirty inches across and was really loaded. He 
thought she might eat half of one wedge and give up. But Mike stunned him by 
eating all but one wedge, which he captured for himself, while she was 
drinking most of the Chianti and two bottles of beer. He couldn't imagine 
where she was putting it all, but it was disappearing into her avid mouth 
just as his cock had. She licked the last strings of cheese from her 
succulent mouth and patted her still-flat stomach. 

"That should give me strength enough to fuck all night," Mike said. 

"Bare ass naked," he replied. 

"Not with the lights on, Russ," the little girl insisted. She smiled lewdly 
and said, "Wouldn't the whole thing be sexier for you if I had some clothes 
on? I mean, if you see what I don't have it'll turn you off. You let me lick 
until you're nice and slippery and then put it in my bottom with the lights 
on so we can see each other. Then if you want to sleep with me in the dark, 
I'll be naked for you ... if you get hard and want to fuck straight, all 
right. I like it, like it a lot, just the way I liked sucking your prick. 
You can't accuse me of not being sexy." 

"You and your goddam tit-fixation," Russ blurted. "Julie's got tits until 
hell won't have it, but it doesn't make her a woman. You were behind the 
door when they were passed out but you're the one who makes me horny. I 
don't care if you're flat-chested as a Cub Scout!" 

"Let's go to bed," the elfin girl said. "I want your cock." 

Teasingly, she lingeringly undressed the aroused handsome man, dropping to 
her knees as she drew his shorts and slacks down after casually discarding 
his shirt. As he stepped out of the garments her tiny hands, unable to 
encircle its girth, grasped his upthrust iron-hard penis and she drew the 
fleshy foreskin down over the bulbous head. Worshipfully, Mike whispered, 
"Ooooh, it's so beautiful ... and big! Oh, Russ, you don't know how I love a 
big one! Some people say it doesn't matter how big it is, that it's the 
pile-driving ass behind it ... but that's not true ... for me at least." 
Lovingly she began to lave and kiss his turgind penis, her little tongue 
whirling wetly over his smooth rubbery knob, then lashing up and down the 
full length of it until it glistened. Rounding her lips into a hot O Mike 
sucked him deep into her tender mouth, her beautiful face contorting. 

Russ stood over her, dwarfing her kneeling form and thought how beautiful 
she really was and marveling at her erotic passion. She had to be the most 
yearning, willing female he had ever encountered ... and it was arousing in 
a way to have her with the scanty dress on instead of naked. Like shooting 
pictures. He could snap the shutter at nudes all day and not get hard. But 
with a chick who wore even the tiniest, sheerest panties, his cock came up 
as sure as the sun in the morning, and just as hot! And Mike sucked cock 
with a soft, wet slurping sound coming from her magnificent mouth which 
added another dimension. Impulsively he reached and held her head tight to 
his loins. 

"Hey-I want to taste you too. Let's sixty-nine." 

"I thought you were going to fuck me in the ass," she said, almost 
petulantly. "But whatever you want, Russ...." 

"You'll dig it more if you're warmed up," he said. "On the bed, baby." 

With a throaty sigh of agreement, Mike rose from her knees and he lay on the 
bed. She straddled him, her sleek thighs framing his face as she lowered her 
flexing, flowering cunt to his waiting mouth. She felt his strong hands 
grasping her slender hips and pulling her downward, and then the expert 
caress of his lips and the first spearing of his tongue parting the lightly 
tufted cleft of her lubricious cunt, seeking the sensitive button of her 
clitoris. 

"Ooooohhhh...." Mike moaned, rocking back and forth as the tongue fluttered 
like butterfly wings from side to side in her labia and then slithered like 
a racing lizard into the depths of her hot, wet pussy. "That is nice!" 

Dreamily, unable to believe Russ really wanted to do this to her, she ground 
her mound of Venus tight against his wetly sucking mouth. Mike felt that a 
lot of the men she gave herself to, fucked her just for laughs, because she 
was so small ... but the way Russ Bourbon was eating her left no doubt that 
he really wanted it; that he considered her a real woman! And obviously he 
had no such feelings about his beautiful big-titted blonde wife! The 
realization sent her into a spasm of ecstasy and with it she began to cum, 
the sweet juices boiling deep in her loins and gushing into his hotly 
devouring mouth. 

"OOOOHHHH ... AAAAAAHHHHH!!! ... YESSSS!!!" the diminutive girl cried out in 
passion. "RUSSSSS ... I'M CUUMMIIINNGG!!!" 

The rigid pole of his still saliva-slick penis beckoned. She had been so 
taken with his oral love-making that she had entirely forgotten it! With a 
groan she dropped on his loins like a hunting hawk, eagerly sucking the 
entire length of him into her wanting wet mouth while her own love-juices 
spilled over his face and her slim thighs clamped it in shuddering joy as 
she writhed like a demon over his reclining body. Mike had never known such 
pleasure. There had been other orgasms, good ones, but this was the best 
ever, and it had come so fast! Her entire slender but beautifully curved 
body shuddered with the ecstasy of the moment. 

And then something else was happening! 

Russ had spread her clenching asscheeks wide and effortlessly shifted her 
feather-light body just a few inches. She felt the hot tip of his wet tongue 
encircling her tight little anus, lubricating it, and then drilling inside 
the constricting rubbery ring. 

"Mmmmmuuuummmmmm...." she hummed in pleasure, her mouth still filled with 
his cock. 

This was something no man had ever done for her before, and it was 
indescribably wonderful. Mike lay on top of him, grinding her buttocks 
against his mouth as she sucked him. She almost cried out in frustration 
when suddenly he stopped, lifting her away from his face. God! She had been 
on the point of cumming again! 

"Let's try it with my prick instead of my tongue," he said. 

"Ooooohhhh ... yessss!" Mike moaned, quickly surrendering his now-slick 
penis from her avid lips. With the grace of a gymnast she seemed to do a 
handspring and land on wide-splayed knees, her face pressed to the pillow, 
turned so she could see it all happen in the big mirror beside the bed. Her 
buttocks, smooth and ivory white, waved invitingly as Russ knelt behind her, 
the thick shaft of his aroused penis in his hand as he guided it between her 
well-lubricated asscheeks to the tiny rose of her anus. Mike was so aroused 
that every nerve end in her petite body tingled as though in contact with a 
high-voltage electric line. She braced herself, because this part, a man 
getting into her ass, always hurt until she could relax her muscles and take 
his cock into her tight, tender rectum. After that it was all right, and a 
deep assfuck always gave her tremendous pleasure. 

And this time, it was a surprise. Russ Bourbon had prepared her beautifully. 
At the mere touch of his massive cockhead, her anus seemed to flower open in 
invitation. She felt no pain as it stretched the tight rubbery sphincter 
muscle and in one smooth thrust lunged far up into her nether passage. She 
gyrated her smoothly rounded buttocks in a demand for deeper penetration and 
felt his heavy balls smack against the cum-drip-ping mouth of her already 
satiated pussy. 

"Ooooohhhh!! Woooowwww!!!" she cried out in pleasure. She screwed back 
furiously on the reaming, impaling cock and rose to her elbows, grinding her 
sleek little body back with demonic fury. In the mirror, she saw the 
tree-like penis ram deep into her rectum, seeming to stuff her belly as Russ 
grabbed her squirming hips and fucked into the seething hot channel. She 
cried out, "Oooohhhh ... Russss!!! This is so goooddd!! Don't cum! Don't 
cum. Just keep screwing my ass!!!" 

"Little one, any guy who gets into you like this can't hold out too long ... 
but I'll do the very best I can." 

"Try Yoga ... cut your mind off from your body," the aroused little girl 
panted as she gyrated and luxuriated in the feel of his cock pistoning like 
a jackhammer into her vitals and his heavy balls smacking wetly against the 
tender, wide-open lips of her cunt. "I'M CUMMMMMIIIINNNGGG AGAIN!!!! OH, 
FUCK MEEE!!" 

Russ was amazed at his own ability to stay rock-hard and in her squirming, 
demanding hot body. Damn, he thought, if only Julie'd fuck like this! 

On and on it went, his rampant penis drilling violently into the wildly 
swiveling moons of Mike's ass until, to his amusement it was his back and 
not his cock which gave out. Panting like a long-distance runner in the 
Boston Marathon, he finally gasped and collapsed, dropping his entire weight 
on the tiny girl, but still with his penis throbbing hard in her tightly 
clenching ass. She was sighing in wild satisfaction, after cumming 
God-only-knew-how-many times, and now herd internal muscles were milking his 
cock, sucking at it until finally with a great burst of energy he rose up 
and screwed into her tender flesh one more time. 

As though a dam had burst, his savory, steaming-hot semen spurted-it seemed 
forever-from the flexing head of his deeply imbedded cock into her eagerly 
welcoming rectum. Her anus clutched his shaft so tight he couldn't move 
until he had been completely drained into her yearning hot body. And then, 
sluggishly responding to her movements, he rolled on his side, still deeply 
penetrating the tiny girl whose smooth young thighs stretched wide over his 
own muscular legs. Russ was so exhausted he fell asleep. He was unaware of 
it when Mike eased herself off the softening spike of his tired maleness, 
and didn't waken until the sun blazed through the thinly curtained window. 

When he blinked his eyes into focus, he was stunned. 

Mike was lying beside him, her breathing slow as she slept. 

And she was stark naked now. 

There wasn't a damn thing wrong with her breasts. They were small, true, but 
she was a small girl. But even lying on her back, they were firmly molded, 
upthrust, the nipples looking like tiny delicious wild strawberries. Not the 
out jutting oversized cones like Julie and Shawna had, maybe, but beautiful! 
A photographer's dream, because the camera would put about ten pounds on a 
woman who weighs ninety. 

Slowly he bent over her and began to kiss them as his hand caressed the 
soft, pale flesh of her exquisite thighs. Her dark eyes fluttered open and 
she moved to push his head away. 

"You're really a girl," he said, grinning lewdly as his mouth sought the 
mound of her breast again. "And I'm going to fuck hell out of you. Now!" 

"Ooooohhhh!!!" Mike sighed, reaching for his hardening cock. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Julie Bourbon woke up disoriented, and with the greatest hangover she had 
ever had-in fact the first one. 

She was at first unable to understand why she was in bed between Chris and 
Shawna Gael ... and then the shocking, ripping, gut-searing memory of the 
previous day and night came back to her. In fragments which she had to put 
together like a jigsaw puzzle. 

She had a blurred memory of showering with Shawna, and then somehow they had 
been in bed together, doing unspeakable things to each other ... and had 
been caught by Russ and Chris! 

The stunned pale-maned girl stirred as she remembered Russ storming off in a 
fury.... 

And then there was a long, erotic session with both Shawna and Chris.... 

MY GOD! she realized. I SUCKED HIS COCK-AND I LOVED IT! 

Oh, how could I have ever gotten myself into this? the suddenly aware young 
bride asked herself. And even as she faced the terrible self-accusation, 
Julie Bourbon realized that she had loved every minute of it. Some deep well 
of carnality in her had been finally tapped and she had to admit that she 
would be a slave to sex from now on. It would be repulsive enough if her own 
husband had led her to this state of degradation ... but to be initiated by 
two complete strangers, who were now in bed with her so close their bodies 
were hotly pressed to hers, was incredible! 

"Julie, honey, you're awake." 

The still-drowsy blonde tensed as she felt Chris Gael send his nimble 
fingers sliding lewdly up the ultra-sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and 
trail teasingly over the tender lips of her pussy, working between the soft 
wetness of her cuntal slit. She instinctively moved to claw at him, but her 
newly aroused sensuality overwhelmed her and she could only whimper a weak 
protest. 

"Ooohh ... Chris ... Nooooo...." 

"Honey, any day that begins with a fuck has to be beautiful." 

Blinking, writhing under the digital caress, Julie realized Shawna was also 
awake, her deep reddish-brown hair tousled, her full, rich breasts exposed, 
and that she was watching with pleasure as her husband made his advances so 
expertly. Against her will, Julie found her woman's body undulating to meet 
the probing fingers. 

"Have a good fuck while I throw some breakfast together," the long-limbed 
redhead said with a salacious grin. 

"Ooooohhhh ... God!" Julie moaned as she watched Shawna put on a short robe 
and slip from the room. She wanted to scratch and bite at the man in bed 
with her, but the demands of her body, still aroused, wouldn't be denied. 
Groaning, she let her long, tanned legs be parted and automatically began to 
stroke the hot length of Chris Gael's penis when he led her reluctant hand 
to it. Julie knew she was being led into sin. 

Led into sin? She was so deep in it already that she could never get out of 
the slime pit! Pitifully she moaned, "Oh, Chris, it was all a mistake!" 

"A mistake? You loved it! You needed it," he said in a soothing voice. "Now 
wet me up and we'll have a long, slow fuck." 

The dazed blonde, facing the fact that the expertly caressing man in bed 
with her spoke the truth-no matter how bitter it was-made no resistance as 
he firmly pushed her tousled head down to his loins. Obediently she wet her 
lips and then began to lick the reddish-purple head of his rigid cock. Once 
her lips touched it she had to have it! Groaning with lewd desire, she drew 
it into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth and her cheeks hollowed, sharply 
outlining the pole-like shaft, as it probed deep into her throat. Her little 
tongue softly experimented, and what she had learned in her half-drugged 
state of a few hours before quickly returned. 

Julie imagined she could still taste his cum, and wanted to taste it again. 
Abandoning all decency, all the morals built up over the years of her life, 
she began to fellate Chris Gael wildly, her blonde hair tossing like she was 
caught in a tornado as the delicious cock rammed deeper and deeper into her 
throat and the need to devour his semen became an overwhelming desire. 

"Noooo ... Noooo!!!" she cried out when his strong hands grasped her hair 
and roughly pulled her avid mouth from his long, hard cock. "Chris ... Chris 
... Chris!!! WHY STOP ME NOW?" 

"I'm nice and wet and hard ... I want to fuck." His saturnine face was 
implacable. "Get on top of me and put me in your cunt." 

Meekly, like a slave girl, the lovely blonde moved to straddle him. 
Shamelessly she took his saliva-slick cock and guided it to the flowering 
lips of her flexing pussy. Positioning herself she let her weight down 
suddenly and felt the rampant spear ram up into her yearning body until the 
rubbery cock head smacked against her cervix. It did feel nice! Ooooh, how 
nice! 

Her loins clenching tight to the impaling staff of his manhood, Julie 
Bourbon fell on top of him, her hair spraying to cover his face as she 
wildly kissed him, drawing his tongue deep into her mouth, and her firm, 
resilient breasts flattened against his chest as with a jerking of his hips 
Chris Gael began to fuck deep up in her steaming-hot pussy. 

"I wanted you to cum in my mouth again!" the aroused taffy-haired girl said, 
riding up and down the rigid pole. "Oooohhh ... this is so nice ... but I 
wanted to suck you dry!" 

"A lot of calories in cum," he said, grinning and grasping her wildly 
whirling asscheeks. God, she was a hot fuck! Even hotter than Shawna! 

"I want to drink you dry," Julie panted as her passion rose. She could feel 
his cock reaming her wildly, sending great ripples of her cuntal flesh ahead 
of it each time it slammed up into her quaking belly against the mouth of 
her womb. "God help me, that's what I want!" 

"You'll know when I'm ready to cum ... then suck it, baby," Chris said, 
grinding his loins against her wetly seeping cunt. 

Feverishly, Julie screwed up and down his rigidly thick phallus, luxuriating 
in the feel of the huge knob-like head plundering her tightly grasping young 
pussy. 

"OOOOOHHHH ... AAAUUUUUGGGHH!!!" she screamed. "CHRIS! I'H CUMMMIINNGG!!" 

She felt his cock piston up into her cunt, his pelvic bone hammering her 
tender, sensitive clitoris, and her juices began to gush, soaking both of 
them and the rich silk sheet beneath. 

It happened not once but five times before she felt his cock flexing, 
becoming even longer, swelling and ballooning inside her ravenous vagina. 

"Now! If you want to suck!" he cried out. 

With a moan of desire, Julie sprang off him, her cuntlips snapping shut with 
a wet, sucking sound. She barely had time to kneel between the 
wide-stretched legs of Chris Gael before the first hot, aromatic bursts of 
his long-stored semen shot into her gaping mouth. Eagerly she clamped her 
sot, passion-swolled lips tightly to the jerking head of his penis and 
sucked, sucked, sucked, gulping the hot, thick flesh deep into her throat as 
her tongue teased it and her little white teeth nibbled ravenously on the 
phallus. 

Until it was limp and shrunken and useless in her salivating mouth. She 
could feel the swirling pool of his cum in her heaving little belly, and for 
a long time she knelt between his legs, not caring what she had become. 

Julie Bourbon liked it. 

* * * 

Meanwhile, Shawna Gael was moving with practiced efficiency in the kitchen, 
preparing a health-restoring breakfast after having first performed one 
essential chore. If there was one thing she liked almost as well as fucking 
and sucking, it was cooking. She believed that if a body was going to fuck, 
it should be well fed, and she devoted a great amount of energy to what she 
did in her kitchen. Now she was preparing a meal which would make a 
lumberjack burp, with an eye on the clock. It was a matter of pride with her 
that everything went on the table in proper sequence, at the exact moment it 
was needed. 

She also believed that food, like music, soothes savage beasts, and there 
were two savagely fucking in the house at the moment. If Julie Bourbon 
didn't get fed well after a wake-up fuck, she could climb the walls. 

On the stove that was big enough for a restaurant, hash-brown potatoes were 
frying, thick center cuts of ham were sizzling, and small but succulent 
filet-mignon steaks were doing the same under the broiler. A bowl of whipped 
eggs, cream and butter waited for just the right minute, along with spicy 
sausages. Biscuits were rising in the oven, and the room was filled with the 
aroma of rich Columbian coffee as a loaf of French bread slowly toasted. By 
the grill, a batch of buttermilk-pancake batter waited. Because they 
entertained so much, the kitchen had been automated. Things turned off and 
on at the command of a complex timer. Shawna checked to see that all was in 
order, and then went to make sure the important machinery was functioning. 

It was located in a small room into which no one was ever allowed. The room 
was not visible to the casual eye, being entered through a closet which was 
purposely littered. Shawna poured herself an oversized cup of coffee and 
went there. 

It might have been the control room of a small television studio. There was 
a console with many knobs, and above it four screens. Nobody knew about the 
tape cameras. They were placed to cover every inch of the master bedroom 
where Julie Bourbon was getting her wake-up fuck. 

"Oh, how she's loving it!" Shawna murmured to herself as she eased into a 
comfortable swivel chair and lipped a button which turned on a fifth, really 
big screen. "What a sweet fuck she is!" 

In vivid color, she could see the tightly clamping cuntlips of the aroused 
blonde as she rose and reamed herself down over Chris Gael's obscenely 
sunken penis. The coral-hued flesh was drawn out on every upstroke, then 
savagely swallowed as Julie ground her yearning loins down on the rigid 
spike of male-flesh. Julie's beautiful breasts were bouncing and jiggling to 
the point where they were almost a blur and her ass was churning and 
grinding as Chris fucked far up deep into her dripping pussy. 

"Have we ever found a new toy!" Shawna said salaciously, turning up the 
sound to get the wet, sluicing tones. Julie's pale mane of hair was flailing 
wildly, her face contorted with passion and she was grunting and groaning 
with her efforts. Time after time she screamed out her climax like a wild 
woman. And then abruptly she was scrambling, wildly kneeling between the 
wide spread legs of Chris and her ravenous mouth was gulping at his cock as 
he began to fuck madly into the hot oral cavern. Strings of cum oozed from 
the edge of Julie's passionate lips and her smooth throat jerked with her 
eager swallowing even as her pussy gushed with a new outpouring of her lust, 
the lips flexing as the pearly cum seeped from her loins. Shawna was 
somewhat amazed that the prudish young blonde had turned on to all kinds of 
sex so fast, and she wished she could be in the big bed, her tongue dipping 
into the sweetly flowing cuntal slit with its sopping-wet blonde-curled 
ringe. Well, she told herself, there'll be plenty of chances in the future. 

In one night, Julie Bourbon had been turned into the sweetest cuntlapper or 
cocksucker anyone could imagine! 

She might freak from guilt, but Shawna Gael, with her long experience, 
thought not. Once she came down from her sex high, Julie would accept it and 
go on. She wouldn't have much choice, once she saw the tapes after Chris had 
edited them. With a little editing and some straight scenes, Julie could be 
coerced. They could make at least three blue movies ... and at practically 
no cost. Just some drinks and a few thousand feet of videotape. They already 
had the standard F & S-fuck and suck-and lesbian scenes. And the way the 
lovely blonde took to it would be enough to carry some short ones, but that 
would be throwing money away. 

They would need the filler stuff, something that would pass for plot, if 
only to satisfy the censors. 

And the price would go up into the millions if they could get her into a 
sandwich. Fucked by two men at once. 

Shit, Shawna thought. There's got to be an ass-fuck in there someplace! 

Men loved to see a pretty girl get screwed in the ass! 

Things had moved so fast that neither she nor Chris had given enough thought 
to that, and she felt Julie Bourbon wouldn't do it willingly. 

She would have to be threatened, humiliated to the point where she would 
yield to anything. 

Well, maybe not a German shepherd,. 

That scene was one even Shawna herself had vetoed. Animalism was repulsive 
to her, even though she'd seen some beautiful girls apparently turn on while 
they were being fucked by a dog or donkey. 

As on the monitors she saw Julie languorously move to kiss Chris, her mouth 
streaming with his cum, her alarm wristwatch went off. 

In the kitchen, she checked on the huge breakfast. Everything was on 
schedule. She picked up the phone, pressed the intercom button and in a 
moment answered the sex-weary voice of her husband. 

"It's beautiful, and breakfast is about ready." 

"Ten minutes," he mumbled. He sounded like he had fucked himself to death. 
"Julie's in the shower." 

* * * 

Julie thought she would be shamefaced when she came into the elaborate 
dining room, yet she felt a glow deep inside her. Although she might have 
fallen into the deepest pits of depravity, she had found something if not of 
moral value, then of importance. She found it easy to smile and joke with 
both Chris and Shawna Gael, and only in fleeting seconds thought of where 
her angry husband might be. Her only concern was how she would get back to 
her apartment, but that didn't seem to be serious. She had never felt so 
fulfilled as a woman before, depraved and perverted as she knew she had 
been. 

Julie wasn't even afraid to face her husband now. After all, he was the one 
who caused it all.... 

"One of us can drive you. home, but we've got a heavy schedule today," Chris 
said smoothly, his eyes carrying a mesage. "In the garage there's a Mustang 
with the top down. Take it and we'll pick it up sometime." 

Feeling stuffed from all she had eaten and sure she had put on at least five 
pounds, Julie Bourbon agreed. Still slightly dizzy from all the lovemaking, 
and the realization of what she was really like deep down inside, she took 
the car and drove home. Russ might raise hell with her, but hadn't he done 
as much, or more? 

She vowed to stand up to him as she jammed the gas pedal down. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

The studio apartment in the casino-hotel was empty when Julie Bourbon 
arrived. No Russ. And no old Pontiac station wagon in their parking slot. 

She felt on the verge of panic, remembering his anger, not realizing the 
entire thing had been staged. She dug into the locked closets and found his 
cameras and clothes yet was obsessed by a terrifying fear that he had left 
her and would sneak back to pick up his gear sometime when she was out of 
the studio. A wave of near panic swept over her and she felt her cum-filled 
belly clench. 

Oh, God! What a fool I've been, the flaxen-maned young wife accused herself. 
She tried to think where Russ could have gone at this hour of day, in 
righteous wrath raised by what he had caught her in. There were at least a 
thousand bars in Vegas, she knew. But Russ had never gone on a wild drunk in 
his life! She checked the note pad for possible appointments and found none. 
She dried tears of remorse from her glistening dark eyes and used the phone 
to check with the desk. There had been no calls for either her or Russ. 

In desperation she tried to think her way out of the morass. 

She had no friends who could help her. Chris and Shawna might try, but what 
would they know about how to find somebody in the neon jungle of Las Vegas? 
Calling the police would be embarrassing to say the least. 

The distressed blonde remembered the quiet, polite security man ... what was 
his name ... DeCosta! He seemed to know just what was going on, and Julie 
was aware that in Las Vegas the private police knew much more than the 
public police. She used the phone again, reached Security, and found he was 
not on duty at that hour. However, he lived in the hotel and she was put 
through to his room. Crisply he answered the call. 

DeCosta had been indoctrinated into his trade by a hitch in Navy 
Intelligence, moving on later to the Central Intelligence Agency. He paid 
more attention to the inflections of words as they were spoken than to the 
words themselves. He remembered the encounter and didn't mind being awakened 
by Julie Bourbon. He had the impression she was on the verge of freaking, 
and it was his job to see that nothing like that happened. He controlled his 
voice carefully. 

"Mrs. Bourbon, I don't think you have anything to worry about. All of us run 
off the rails sometimes and this may be your husband's day. I can ask some 
questions. If he had an accident, I'll know in ten minutes. If he's visiting 
a friend, that will take longer. I can make the calls from here and let you 
know within the hour." 

"I can't stand waiting," Julie blurted. "Waiting and not knowing." She 
hadn't told the detective the entire story. Impulsively she pleaded, "Could 
I-could I come to your room and be there when you look for him?" 

"If you want-but it's messy. The housekeeping staff doesn't show much 
respect for me." 

"I couldn't care less!" the aroused taffy-haired blonde replied. "I'm 
heading for there now!" 

"All right. I'll get some wake-up coffee cooking and put my pants on," 
DeCosta said. "Give me fifteen minutes-I'm in bed." 

His at-home appearance was a shock to Julie who had only seen the impeccably 
garbed man when he was on duty. Now DeCosta wore paisley flare slacks and as 
far as she could see, nothing else. His hair was uncombed and his apartment, 
about the same as she and Russ had, looked like a bear's cave. She could 
smell coffee brewing. He met her at the door with a telephone on a long cord 
in his hand and, listening, waved her inside to the small living room. 

Somehow, she thought, he's so male and handsome this way, instead of being 
wrapped up in a gray-flannel suit! The long-limbed girl felt a new stirring 
in her loins as she heard him speaking in rapid Italian. The long phone cord 
followed him like a snake as he locked the door, sank into an overstuffed 
chair and reached for a cigarette. 

"This could take some time," he said, covering the phone with his hand. "The 
coffee is about done. I could use some." 

Julie Bourbon went into the tiny kitchen, found cups and sugar and poured 
from the gurgling percolator. She carried them into the other room and 
watched DeCosta at work, thinking he certainly knew his business as he 
placed one call after another, sometimes speaking in English, sometimes in 
Italian, of which she knew a few words, and then in a language completely 
strange to her although it sounded like some Russian she'd heard once in a 
TV debate involving Russians. 

Her short dress was sliding up to reveal the curvaceous globes of her 
asscheeks and she found herself wishing she had worn a brassiere because her 
ripe, wide-set breasts were spilling from the bodice of the dress, but then 
she didn't even own a bra. Well, after what she had been through, it didn't 
seem important. She trembled, partly with anxiety over what might have 
happened to Russ and partly because in her newly awakened womanhood, she was 
excited by the nearness of the lean, hard-muscled man who was bare to the 
waist and not even wearing slippers. Her eyes were drawn to the front of his 
jeans and there was an unmistakable pole of flesh growing there, even though 
it seemed he had only given her the barest of glances and was being all 
business. 

She began to know what it was to feel like a woman. Not just a pretty figure 
on a photographic print, but a woman. 

And Julie Bourbon liked the feeling. 

Twice she refilled his coffee cup as he hung on the phone, asking, 
demanding. As she made another trip to the coffee pot, she swung around 
momentarily and saw his dark Latin eyes were on her long, golden legs and 
jiggling asscheeks even as he talked. She liked that. 

Julie tossed her hair and thought she liked him ... mostly because he didn't 
push or try to maneuver. He was probably the coolest person she had ever 
met, the "cool" not meaning coldness but great self-control. 

As she returned with more coffee, there was a rasping buzz. DeCosta kicked 
at a stack of newspapers, magazines and paperback books, fished out a second 
telephone and began talking into both at once. Now he was scowling and 
speaking in foreign languages until he hung up. 

The anxious girl with the wheat-pale hair had a sense of deep apprehension 
as he hung up both phones. He didn't look happy. 

"Your husband's okay," he said. "No blood on the highway, Mrs. Bourbon." 

"Just what does that mean? I want the truth!" Julie blurted as she sat 
beside him and raised her coffee cup to her sensual lips with a shaking 
hand. "And let's drop 'Mrs. Bourbon'-I'm Julie. I have to know ... I must 
know." 

"He's not in any trouble. He'll be home sometime today, if my information is 
correct," DeCosta said. He couldn't keep his eyes from the sleek, voluptuous 
beauty of her and felt his cock hard as a rock. "My suggestion is you just 
put it down to a little family fight, which always cleans the air." 

"Horse shit!" Julie exploded, using an expression which she never had 
before, her dark eyes now angry as she tossed her head and her long flaxen 
hair flailed. "I thank you for finding him but I damn well want to know what 
the scene it! Don't think you'll be put down as a fink for telling 
me-whatever it is, he'll be bragging about it when he does decide to come 
home! Now tell me!" 

"It's going to hit you between the eyes, Julie," the security man said 
seriously. "But if you insist on knowing, he's been with a girl who's not 
nearly as impressive as you are. Her name is Micah Brautovich and she's a 
secretary for an advertising agency. Pretty, but skinny. From what I can 
learn, not a bad girl ... not a whore ... but she likes men." 

"Oh, Jesus!" Julie Bourbon murmured, as the vision of skinny little Mike 
flashed through her mind. She reached and clutched at the man beside her, 
sobbing, yet thinking of her own bad conduct and finding herself unable to 
blame Russ. Her face wet with tears, she mumbled, "Do you have anything 
strong to drink? Oh, God, how I need a drink before my bird falls out of his 
tree!" 

"It's early in the day, but I do have some brandy. Let me spike your coffee 
and maybe you'll feel better. 

One liberally-poured shot of brandy didn't do it, but three did. Julie 
sipped the heavily laced coffee as she found how to control her emotions, 
and release her inhibitions. Her hot dark eyes were drawn to DeCosta's 
tight-fitting pants and she could see the rigid outline of his ready cock, 
could even imagine the jumping of it as his blood pulsed through the heart 
of his maleness. 

She thought of the things she had done, and wondered how much lower she 
could go before turning into Instant Harlot, and didn't care. 

What was left to care about, with Russ taking up with the lean little girl, 
and herself sucking cock and eating cunt? 

And now she could feel DeCosta becoming restless. 

"Is this for me?" the distressed young wife said as she reached for his hot 
loins and her slender fingers clasped the rigidity of his manhood. Never had 
she thought she could be so bold and brazen, but now there was a burning 
compulsion within her. "I want it." 

"You caused it," DeCosta said, moving up to her grasping hand. "I was 
happily in bed sleeping alone and you called, and ... the bed isn't made. 
It's like an unmade bed." 

"Show me," Julie said, clawing at him in a mix of desire and need for 
revenge on her husband. She pulled him to his feet and pressed her smooth 
young body against him. "Show me, DeCosta ... oooohhhh ... show me! I'm not 
a Vegas whore! I've learned so many terrible things about myself lately, I 
don't understand me! I'm half drunk and I know it! But I know what I'm doing 
now, at this moment in time. I want a man, and you're here! Take care of me. 
Ooooohhhh, take care of me, DeCosta! 

Wild with desire, the lovely blonde almost dragged him into his own bedroom. 
As he watched, somewhat stunned, she shrugged out of her mini-dress and 
peeled her gossamer lace-fringed panties down the smoothly curved columns of 
her golden legs. Julie tossed her rich mane of taffy-hued hair and her eyes 
flashed defiance and challenge. The brandy was burning in her skull. 

"Any way!" she panted. "Take me any way you want! I don't care how much it 
hurts." She gulped, realizing what a degrading thing she had said, but her 
blood was still hot. "Your prick?" She licked her lust-swollen lips. "I want 
it, DeCosta. Any way. For God's sake get those pants off and give it to me!" 

Like a snarling animal the curvaceous blonde girl went at him, her hands 
clawing at the zipper of his fly until his pants slid down his legs and his 
cock sprang free, long and hard. With a groan of lewd, obscene desire, she 
dropped to her knees and began to kiss it reverently, her tongue lashing the 
bulbous head and then her beautiful face swelled as she drove her ravenous 
lips down, down, all the way until they were buried in his pubic hair as she 
sucked eagerly. She felt his hands enclosing her wild thatch of pale hair as 
he fucked deep into her throat, the thick, rubbery cockhead ramming far 
below her tonsils. And then he was holding her straining, lust-contorted 
face tight to his loins and speaking. , "Let's get on the bed and do it to 
each other, pretty girl." 

Reluctantly the aroused young woman surrendered the thick phallus from her 
devouring lips. She wondered how she could ever have come to this, but knew 
she had to have it, now that Russ was fucking that skinny little bitch! 

She hoped he would do unspeakable things to her ... things she could hurl in 
the complacent face of her unfaithful husband. 

They tumbled into the rumpled bed that smelled richly of his masculinity and 
now she realized, as hands maneuvered and fingers lewdly slid over her 
breasts, that it would be good. 

Not right-she was a married woman-but good! 

The aroused palomino-haired girl panted and yielded to the sure pressure of 
his arms and fingers, until they were lying on their sides, face to loins, 
and she felt her long, shapely legs being spread as his tongue and lips 
caressed the hot tenderness of her sensitive inner thighs. As her yearning 
cunt flowered open she felt his breath on the pale-hued coral inner flesh 
and her body undulated with uncontrolled desire, slowly as a snake coiling 
and uncoiling, and as ready to strike. 

DeCosta's long, lust-throbbing cock was a fraction of an inch from her face, 
and with a groan of desire she took it in her hand and began to rub the 
velvety, soft head that was so much in contrast with the hardness of the 
staff over her cheeks and eyes and throat. His hot breath was like fire on 
her blood-engorged pussy and with a moan she splayed her long, silken legs 
wider. 

And then, after she had been tantalized and aroused, he finaly did it! 

Julie felt the flickering tip of his tongue slide up and down the soft and 
hair-guarded flesh of her vaginal slit, seeking, burrowing into her seeping 
pussy. 

"Ooooohhhh!!!" the beautiful blonde sighed and tightly clamped her quivering 
velvet thighs around his head and screwed her cunt up to his exploring 
mouth. His tongue slithered up into the depths of her vaginal channel and 
she fucked up to it like it was the beautiful cock she was holding. She 
couldn't restrain herself any longer. With a sigh of wanton desire she wet 
her salivating soft lips with the tip of her slithering pink tongue and, her 
warm, wet mouth engulfed the beautiful head of his long cock, her tongue 
seeking the little dewy pearl that had materialized in the slit at the top. 

Through her mind flashed the thought that it was nice. 

Having his tongue in her hot, wet cunt ... and being able to suck him at the 
same time. His semen-heavy balls beckoned and she grasped them urgently, so 
hard that he groaned. Tongue lashing, the aroused young wife relaxed her 
mouth and slowly sucked the delicious penis deeper and deeper into her 
throat, her smoothly tanned cheeks drawn in tight, outlining it with the 
intensity of her sucking. DeCosta's tongue was playing with her clitoris and 
dancing like a well-trained snake from side to side of her gaping, 
lubricious pussy. 

Soon they found a rhythm. 

He fucked deep into her eager lips and then his own lips and tongue did 
delicious things to her seething cunt. Julie knew this could go on for a 
long time.... 

And it did. Time without end, she thought, as she sucked his cock and he 
kissed and nibbled her electrically charged pussy until with a groan of 
approaching climax rolled her onto her back and began to fuck like a stud 
into her willing mouth even as he spread her thighs wide and burried his 
face in the soft bush of her pubic and his tongue became a spear of fire. 

They came together, his hot, thick sperm pouring into her eager lips even as 
her own juices boiled from the depths of her jerking belly into his mouth. 

His hot sperm swirling in her belly, Julie Bourbon shifted so that his 
weight was rolled off her and they were lying side by side savoring each 
other's aromatic climaxes, mouths still tightly locked to each other's 
genitals. The bedroom was rich with the aroma of their wild satisfaction. 

"That wasn't planned ... it just happened," DeCosta said as he shook two 
cigarettes from a pack on the night stand and lit them and put one between 
her lips. "I feel like a shit! You came here for help and this happened." 

"I don't want you to feel that," Julie said, almost choking on the smoke 
with the rich taste of his cum in her mouth. "DeCosta, I could have stopped 
it, just told you 'no'! But I was out for revenge. I wanted you as a deadly 
weapon...." She smiled, her lips glistening silver with his cum around the 
phallic symbol of the cigarette. "And when it got to the nitty gritty, I 
wanted you." She ruffled her pale hair and tried to compose what she would 
say next. "I mean, at first I was using you. I wanted to be put down, 
humiliated because my husband spent the night fucking a skinny little girl. 
God, how I wanted to hurt him! But then when it began, I turned on to it." 
Almost shyly, she said, "I was really making love with you." 

"I had that idea!" he said, grinning for the first time Julie could 
remember. He had seemed like such a cold fish until now. He moved to fondle 
her breasts and kiss the out-thrust sensitive nipples as his hand stroked 
her dripping cunt. Her arms wrapped him with all her young, yearning 
strength and she hummed deep in her cum-soaked throat in pleasure. "You know 
how Vegas it ... lots of girls. You come to know when they're doing it just 
to kill time or really mean it." 

"Yes," the satiated blonde said. "But I was a freak. I mean, shook, and not 
just by my husband shacking up with a girl. I have to get it off my chest." 

It took her a long time to spill it all out, and she didn't spare herself. 
She told of her former frigidity and her initiation to fellatio and 
cunni-lingus and lesbianism, pacing the small bedroom from wall to wall, 
naked, smelling of woman aroused and insatiable. He lay in the bed and 
watched and listened and smoked cigarettes, making no comment until she had 
spent herself, sure that when he had heard the entire sordid tale he would 
reject her. 

Yet his maleness grew and became like the trunk of a redwood tree. 

"Come back to bed," he said. 

Yearning for comfort, Julie Bourbon did, not caring what he would do to her 
now after all she had confessed. 

She found herself rolled onto her back and even as her long smooth legs 
scissored in the air he was on top of her, his strong fingers squeezing her 
softly resilient breasts and his newly rigid cock was splitting the tender 
lips of her pussy, ramming wildly up into the seething depths of her cunt, 
rippling the soft inner flesh ahead of it, and her wide-stretched asscheeks 
were being hammered by his balls. 

"OOOOHHH!! FUCK ME!!! FUCK MEEE!!" the wildly aroused blonde girl cried out, 
her nails raking his back and she felt his cock splitting the welcoming lips 
of her pussy that he had licked and kissed and sucked. Wildly squirming, she 
began to chant, without realizing what she was saying, "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! 
HARDER! HARDER! ALL THE WAY IN MY BELLY! YESSS!!! OOOOHHHH ... 
AAAUUUUGGGGHHHH ... OH, YOUR COCK!" The aroused blonde clutched at the man 
who was giving her so much wild pleasure like a she-tiger, her long 
fingernails drawing blood. She cried out, "I'M GOING TO CUM! AND CUM AND CUM 
AND CUMMMM ... AS LONG AS YOU CAN FUCK!" 

Wildly Julie screwed up and down his rampaging penis, feeling it piston into 
the very depths of her body as the wild climax went on and on and on. 
Looking down through the jiggling mounds of her ripe cone-shaped breasts, 
she could see his penis slamming wetly into her lubricious cunt, his 
testicles swaying and slapping at the lewdly wide-stretched cheeks of her 
squirming buttocks. 

Oh, she thought, this is animal ... but this is fucking! 

She wanted his hot sperm boiling in a torrent deep into her tightly grasping 
cunt, filling her. If DeCosta pulled it out at the last moment and offered 
it to her soft lips, she would suck again, but this time she just wanted 
what she already had-a ramming, reaming hot plunging poker of male-flesh in 
her yearning pussy. 

Blood was streaming from DeCosta's back and Julie Bourbon realized her own 
frenzied raking of fingernails had drawn it. She tried to lick it away as he 
slammed his penis deep into her eager body and her long curvaceous legs 
locked higher and higher around him and she kept cumming and cumming and 
cumming, crying out her insane pleasure at being fucked. 

And then she felt his plundering cock swelling and flexing and with a 
hurting, slamming stroke, drive to the depths of her seething cunt and 
explode hot, stringy cum into her sucking vagina. 

Still hard inside her, the security agent rolled her until they were again 
lying on their sides. Julie was still moaning softly as her orgasm 
diminished, and she kissed him deeply, feeling his hand stroke her sweating 
back. 

"That never happened before," she mumbled. "I mean, not so much!" 

"You are a lot of girl," he said. "For a girl like you, a man will fuck 
himself to death." 

"Tell that to my husband," Julie Bourbon said, with bitternes. She found 
herself surprised. DeCosta had seemed so cold, like a machine. But when she 
had needed him he had come through, asking no questions, and she herself had 
invited the sex. The littered apartment told her he lived alone in the 
fleshpot of Las Vegas. Shyly, in the light of the carnality they had been 
through, Julie asked, "Do you mind if I clean up this place a little? It's a 
mess." 

"The women they hire for maids here haven't been in for a week," he said. "I 
could put some heat on them." 

"I'd rather do it myself," Julie said. 

She set about cleaning and scrubbing and remade the bed with fresh linen. 
DeCosta shaved and showered and dressed in his gray-flannel suit, sliding a 
small pistol into his pocket and went off to work. Julie had the desk ring 
her apartment, and when there was no answer, went up there. She packed some 
essential clothes and hid them in a closet in DeCosta's studio, and then had 
duplicates made of the room key. She didn't know what they had but the 
instinct for survival told her to find a place to go in case Russ showed up 
in a rage. The proud girl with hair the color of wheat streaming behind her 
didn't want her marriage to break up ... but she wouldn't let herself be 
abused. Or used. 

If Russ wanted to screw a scrawny little girl, let him. 

Julie Bourbon knew she could always get a man for companionship or sex or 
both ... and that she could make her own way as a model if she felt like it 
or had to. 

Now all that had happened seemed like a nightmare in which she was one of 
the principal performers. Her yielding to both Chris and Shawna, the 
terrible scene with Russ, and then hopping so eagerly into DeCosta's bed! A 
few days ago, Julie Bourbon couldn't have imagined herself doing any of 
these things, but they had all come to pass and she had to face it.... 

* * * 

"Where the hell can that bitch be?" Russ Bourbon demanded as he slammed down 
the phone. The phone at their apartment had rung countless times. Julie 
wasn't in a jail or hospital. While Russ didn't for a minute blame her for 
being angry, he couldn't figure where she might have disappeared to, and 
this annoyed him. Chris and Shawna said only that they had lent her a car 
and that she might just be driving around, getting her head straight. At 
least there was no panic situation with his work-the answering service 
advised that no calls had come through, so he didn't have to worry about 
urgent work. The lean hard-muscled photographer cradled the phone, for one 
time not slamming it down in frustration and looked to the little naked girl 
in the rumpled bed. 

God, but she was pretty! That smooth rounded ass and the slender legs and 
the small but perfectly formed breasts! And didn't she know how to use her 
body? Yes, she did! 

He began to get hard, remembering the night. He slammed the flat of his 
strong hand down on her upturned ivory-hued buttocks and Mike sprang into 
the air, yelping. She had drifted off to sleep in exhaustion after they had 
tried everything they could think of. He watched the reddening marks left by 
his fingers and said, "Pretty ass." 

"You don't have to beat it bloody," she retorted, rubbing the resilient 
globes. "Now make it happy." 

She knelt on the bed, her cheek hard against the wrinkled sheet and reached 
back to spread the taut asscheeks wide and offer him the tiny rose of her 
anus. His penis rigid, Russ Bourbon mounted the little girl in a push-up 
position, bringing the blood-engorged head of his cock to the sensitive 
orifice. He grasped her hips and thrust violently. 

"AAAAjjjjhhh!!!!" Mike cried out as the full length of his penis rammed 
violently up into her hot rectum and was buried to the hilt as his heavy 
balls slapped wetly into her cuntal furrow. He remained deeply sunk into her 
vitals, flexing his long cock and hearing her moan in mingled pain and 
pleasure before he began to slowly fuck in and out of her tight little 
asshole that gripped his cock like a wet velvet glove enclosing a rapacious 
iron hand. Mike's tongue wet her passionate lips as he twisted her head back 
and saw him doing it to her and she cried out, "Oooohhh ... make it slow and 
long, long, looonnnggg!!!" 

As the jaded Russ Bourbon slid his cock deeply in and out of the hotly 
rippling flesh of the squirming, panting girl's anus, he thought he had 
never found fucking like this in his life! She groaned as the pale-pink 
flesh of her sphincter was drawn out of her body, wrapped like a condom 
around his prick, and then sighed as he filled her back passage to the hilt, 
all the time grinding and churning her beautiful asscheeks. 

With something like this, who needed frigid Julie? 

Julie in his mind became a piece of meat to be thrown to the wolves ... and 
he knew a number of wolves now. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

"I think we fucked up," Chris Gael said as he cradled the phone. "Damn it, 
Russ went and shacked up with Mike! Dum-dum Julie got shaken when he wasn't 
home and called the security. And if what I heard is right, she's gotten 
fucked by that son-of-a-bitch DeCosta. You know the one I mean. Dresses like 
he was from the FBI. The motherfucker was a soldier of fortune but he keeps 
a low profile. He speaks soft, but he carries guns. And knives. And he knows 
every dirty trick in the business. He can pull any broad in Vegas when he 
feels like it, and he's got pull all the way up to the White House." 

"I've heard of him," Shawna said, showing no emotion. DeCosta was one man 
she didn't want Chris to know about. He had screwed her relentlessly, 
endlessly, in every orifice once when Chris was away on a photo job. 

And now he had little Julie! 

Well, she could do worse ... at least he wasn't a whoremonger. He wouldn't 
put the beautiful young blonde on the street or in a house where she would 
have to fuck or suck any creep who picked her out of the line. 

"The whole fucking thing is blown," Chris Gael said. 

"Not necessarily," replied his salacious auburn-haired wife, realizing he 
was now thinking of money to be made. She combed her hair with her fingers 
and began to talk off the top of her head, beginning with, "It could get 
better and better for all of us." 

"Lay it on me, babe," the photographer said. "All I know is how to click 
cameras. You count the money." 

"Keep that in mind," Shawna said, grinning wickedly. "This is the way I see 
it, and chop me if I'm wrong. 

"First, we needed Julie for some blue movies, and that meant we had to find 
work for Russ. We've got a lot of her on videotape already. 

"Second, Russ would sell his grandmother's corpse for a dime. We know that. 

"Third, we had Julie at the breaking point. 

"Fourth, Russ made a getaway and fucked Mike. 

"Fifth, if you heard it straight on the phone, Julie got shook up and bedded 
DeCosta, who is a mean bastard. I know him. He'd just as soon shoot you as 
look at you. But he's not square. He'll go for anything that can be covered. 
Understand?" 

"Not all of it," Chris Gael replied. 

"Oh, you stupid ass!" Shawna blurted in frustration. "Look, here's what we 
wanted. We wanted Julie for some film, which we have already, and we wanted 
Julie and Russ for playthings. Then Mike and DeCosta got into the act and 
there are complications. So we have to adjust. Change the script. Instead of 
just you and me making it with Russ and Julie, we have to work Mike and 
DeCosta into it. Julie's already broken and DeCosta has the morals of a 
rattlesnake. Mike will fuck. Not for money, but if she likes a man." The 
auburn-haired beauty grinned. "I'd bet ten dollars to a hole in a doughnut 
and half the hole back if you lose that you've fucked her." 

"Never have," Chris Gael said thoughtfully. "I'll admit she hung the 'OUT TO 
LUNCH' sign on the door of Kellogg's office one day and gave me a beautiful 
blow-job. Wouldn't let me touch her, or take off any clothes. She just did 
it all with her mouth, and got me up there for at least an hour, ready to 
cum ... sort of playing with my prick. But when she wanted it, finally, she 
sucked like nothing in this world." 

"I can't believe she ate the whole thing," Shawna said with a lascivious 
chuckle. "But 'in the situation which obtains,' as Lucius Bebee used to say, 
I think we should bring them all in. Organize an orgy, if you want to call 
it that. We all fuck and suck each other and the videotape is running from 
all angles and we've got a half-million dollars in our pocket." 

"You think I'd ever suck a cock?" he demanded angrily. 

"No ... and I don't think I'd want you if you did," the long-haired girl 
said, smiling and winking. "But you like to see me going down on other men 
... or watch you eating cunt ... or see me make it with another girl. Lick 
her snatch while she eats me." She fingered through her long dark hair again 
and considered her husband seriously as she said, "I think you should try 
it, once! You'd never turn queer, I know that. But just experience having a 
cock in your mouth ... the hot cum ... realize what a girl feels when a 
prick rams down her throat. Oh, it's beautiful, once you learn how. Suck and 
kiss and lick and swallow the sweet cum. I really don't know why men want to 
eat pussy. I mean, there's not that much there! A girl just doesn't cum the 
way a man does, shooting it all into your mouth. It may taste sweet, but 
most of it is soft legs wrapped around the ears ... you should know." 

"What I know or don't know amounts to a barrel of sour owl shit," he said 
angrily. "I wanted to grab that pair because she's beautiful and he can 
handle a camera and we both want a little variety in our fucking. I love to 
be in bed with you while another guy is fucking you! See you squirm and go 
wild with a new prick in your, cunt! A few of them make you cum, I know 
that, but then you're hotter for me. Hot like a forest fire. Your mouth 
sucks and your pussy grabs and your asshole won't let go of me!" 

"That's what I love about you, Chris," Shawna said, her hands lewdly 
exploring him, teasing his rising penis. "You lie close to me in bed while 
some guy we've never met before fucks me out of my mind ... maybe both of 
you sandwich me, and you know how I dig that ... and it's so exciting for 
me!" 

"Now you want me to organize an orgy involving people who won't get along," 
he said, savoring her erotic nature as he slapped at her bare asscheeks 
lightly. "You are the most beautiful broad I ever met." 

"Lie back and think it all over and don't move a muscle. You figure out how 
to get Julie and Russ and Mike and DeCosta into bed with us in a friendly 
way." She gripped his hardening penis tightly. "And I'm going to do the 
number ... go down on you ... suck your cock for hours." She chuckled 
wickedly. "And don't you dare cum beore you've figured it all out." 

"You damn tease," he said, pulling her head to his loins and feeling her 
soft warm lips enclose the head of his penis as her tongue explored. Chris 
Gael had known many women but this auburn-haired one was the best. 

So open-minded. 

She loved her sex but wouldn't cheat. 

If she found a potential lover, she brought him home. Or her. 

They went to bed together, however many. 

Chris liked to watch her getting it rammed deep into her hot wet cunt, or 
sucking cock, or eating pussy. It-was nice when she brought a girl 
home-Shawna never picked up any dogs, they were all young and beautiful, and 
after she had eaten them out of their minds they were his. To fuck, or offer 
his cock to their hot wet lips while Shawna, waiting for just the right 
moment, pumped his phallus and he shot into their avidly sucking mouths. 

He and Shawna shared. 

Once she had found a living virgin and enticed her to the rancho. 

A girl in her late teens, whom Shawna seduced with her mouth as Chris lay in 
the bed, watching Shawna's tongue spearing into the grinding, wet pussy. The 
girl was wild with passion and she kept cumming and cumming into Shawna's 
mouth until finally Shawna's eager glistening tongue tired and she panted to 
Chris, "She's cherry!" 

"Huh?" he said. 

"A virgin! She's never been fucked!" Shawna pawed at her hair. "No shit! I 
can't even get my tongue up her cunt! Climb on her and fuck her! She's hot 
and squirming!" 

Chris Gael mounted the writhing young girl as Shawna guided his rampant cock 
into the soft, lubricious lips of her pussy. The girl screamed as the tender 
maidenhead burst under the thrust of his rigid cock and the blood began to 
run from her cunt onto the bedsheets. But as he poised himself over her 
trembling body and flexed his impaling penis in her tender young pussy, the 
girl had begun to groan in mingled pleasure and pain, and started to fuck 
her young cunt up the invading pole of male-flesh, panting. She was already 
wet, her cuntlips streaming with her juices as Chris Gael poised himself 
over the straining body an then fucked hard as he could up into the seething 
depths of her vagina. 

"EEEEYYYYAAAAGGGGHHH!!!" the teenager had screamed as the rampantly reaming 
penis plunged into the forbidden parts of her virginal body. "YOU'RE HURTING 
MEEEE!" 

Yet her young, strong legs were clamping his back as he fucked hard into her 
virgin cunt and she drove it up to meet every pummeling, jack-hammering 
stroke, feeling the tender inner flesh yield even as she bled around it. 
Shawna was kissing her and cuddling, caressing her breasts, comforting her 
while she writhed in pain and pleasure as her cunt was plundered. 

And then Shawna had, after the explosion of their cumming together, knelt 
between her limply splayed legs and licked her tender vaginal lips clean of 
cum and blood. 

They had slept together for nearly a week, experimenting. The girl borrowing 
Shawna's clothes when she wanted to go out for a walk. 

She could cum easily, in minutes, spilling her hot sweet juice into their 
mouths, her smooth legs clamped to their burrowing faces. 

She whimpered in pain the first time Chris screwed her in the ass, 
violently. But the pain turned quickly to pleasure and after that she 
wouldn't let him fuck her in her cunt. She was afraid of getting pregnant. 
But she delighted in kneeling before him and spreading her smooth asscheeks 
for the entrance of his cock, and once it had penetrated the elastic ring of 
her sphincter, fucking that way was beautiful, particularly when Shawna 
slithered onto the wrinkled sheets and spread her own beautiful legs and 
drew the auburn-haired lips of her pussy wide apart, showing the coral flesh 
inside. And the gentle hands, pulling at her head, drawing it down to the 
beautiful cunt while her ass was getting such a slow and beautiful fuck. 

The virgin girl had been turned, in a few days, it seemed, into the most 
eager of cocksuckers and pussy-eaters, and one hell of a straight fuck. Or 
she would take it up the ass and love it. 

And she disappeared. 

Vanished. 

The only thing she took was her suitcase. 

"Where do you think she could have gone?" Shawna had asked her husband 
seriously. "That innocent young girl!" 

"Probably to Nevada. Fucking for money is legal there, you know." He lit a 
cigarette and went on. "Get down on your knees and suck my cock, babe. She 
was good, but you're the best." 

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my friend," Shawna said as she knelt and 
zipped his pants open, fishing greedily for his penis. It was hard and ready 
for her soft, wet mouth without any teasing. She loved it, devoured it as 
his hot, sweet cum spurted into her mouth and his hands pulled her bobbing 
head down to his loins. This was the beautiful part of their relationship as 
man and wife. Their sex together gave them so much pleasure, and having 
others join them was a bonus. It made no difference if the others were young 
girls or young men to Shawna. She had made only one inflexible rule. 

Unless one or the other found it necessary to break in a new girl or man, 
they never fucked alone. 

They always shared the same big bed. It was so exciting, getting fucked by 
two men at once, or both of them doing up the young girl. 

It helped the financial picture too. The color tape cameras were always 
running, aimed at the big bed. The equipment and what was needed to keep it 
running had cost a fortune, but had paid for itself in less than a year, and 
the whole thing was foolproof. 

No girl with a good reputation could possibly take them to court. 

The young men were usually happy for the hospitality and would leave with a 
few dollars in their pockets and a memorable experience. 

Most of the sessions were no more than half-hour blue movies. But Julie and 
Russ could be more. And if they could pull DeCosta and Mike in, they would 
make a fortune. Half a million, at least. 

Chris Gael couldn't hold back. He fucked deep into his avidly sucking wife's 
mouth and thought how beautiful her straining lips were with his cum oozing 
from them. He loved the way her hot, wet tongue laved him after, before she 
rose from her knees to be kissed. He liked tasting himself in her mouth. 

Her lips were so sweet after she had sucked. Shawna always held back enough 
cum to give him a honey kiss. Even when she would be going down on one of 
the young boys while he watched and maybe fucked her too, and he was really 
tasting another man's semen. 

Once, after she had gone down on one of them and kissed him, letting hot, 
whitish cum drool into his sucking mouth, she had whispered, "You're a 
cocksucker by proxy!" 

They both burst into laughter. 

Now, her lips still wet with cum, Shawna said thoughtfuly, "How do we handle 
it?" 

"Hit them all right between the eyes," her husband said. 

* * * 

It was easier said than done ... there were too many human factors involved. 
They had to consider the reactions of six people, themselves included, who 
were already emotionally involved to one extent or another. Finally they had 
to write it down on paper. 

First, their own goal: Get Julie Bourbon and Russ Bourbon both as playthings 
and for photos. 

Second, either ease DeCosta out or bring him in smoothly. 

Third, use Micah ... but Mike wouldn't be easy to use. She was sharp as a 
surgeon's scalpel. 

Russ and Julie were the weak ones. 

Russ was hungry for money and recognition in his field. 

Julie was just discovering her own sexuality. She would naturally be asking 
herself questions, and she could freak and blow it all. 

A real chess game. Moving the pawns around. 

After much scribbling, they agreed Russ was the vulnerable one, even more 
than Julie. He was hungry for money and status. Mike didn't give a damn. 
DeCosta was a deadly snake. There was the off chance he had fallen in love 
with Julie, and might fuck them up. 

Eventually Chris and Shawna Gael agreed they should set up a party and play 
it by ear. There would be drinks and some pills and the tape cameras would 
be running.... 

* * * 

Russ was thinking he might have made a mistake. While Mike was absolutely 
best he had ever run into in bed, she wasn't commercial. He might be able to 
use her in high-fashion layouts, but she would never come through the lenses 
as sexy as Julie. Julie had the smooth body, the tits, the ass for the slick 
men's magazines. 

And there was no doubt about it, he had sure fucked up with Julie. Now he 
had to patch it, and do it in a way that didn't lose little Mike, because 
they both represented money. 

Forcing a smile, he told Mike, "I've got to go fix it with Julie." 

"I understand ... it's important," she said, stretching her lithe slender 
body. "I'm not sure I like you ... but come back when you want. You do a 
girl up nice." 

"You're a nice girl to do up," Russ said, as he dressed. For goodbye, he 
bent and kissed her tender, sweet cunt instead of her mouth. 

As the door closed firmly, the little girl began to cry softly, and then she 
slept again. 

* * * 

Julie was back in their apartment, waiting, reading a paperback book which 
didn't interest her. 

"Julie, I-" Russ Bourbon began. 

"Forget it," Julie said with a hardness she didn't know she possessed. "I'm 
not exactly a nun. Let's just not talk about it. Not yet-it's too soon." Her 
dark eyes studied her unfaithful husband, even as she realized she had been 
equally unfaithful. She said, "You must be hungry ... I don't imagine Mike 
fed you." 

"No." He didn't want to ask how she knew. 

"I'll fix something," she said in a flat tone. "Rock Cornish game chicken or 
pork chops?" 

"Chicken would be fine," he said. 

It was a nearly silent meal. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they 
had done, or try to disguise it with trivialities. 

The only attempt at communication came when Julie, scraping their plates, 
said, "Russ, do you think we can go on together?" 

"Maybe. I'd like to." He shook his head. "You were always so uptight about 
sex ... and then to see you making it with Shawna...." 

"It was something that happened." 

His voice and eyes didn't betray his knowledge of her episode with DeCosta. 
"I won't say to just forget it, but we can put it aside." 

"Or try. What about living together now?" the pale-haired girl asked 
seriously. "We only have one bed. I'm not ready to have you touch me yet." 

"One thing I've never been accused of is rape," Russ said. 

The slept in the same bed without touching. 

Russ masturbated in the late hours, thinking of his cock in the soft, sweet 
mouth of Mike. 

Julie Bourbon used her fingers, thinking of DeCosta. She wanted his cock in 
her cunt, and knew she could go to the other studio and have him there, 
without argument, but she was troubled and thought it best to seek a secret 
place for herself until she got her mind straight. 

* * * 

Several days passed, during which they didn't touch each other, yet worked 
together amicably as photographer and model. Sometimes, with an unquenchable 
burning in her loins, Julie Bourbon slipped down to DeCosta's apartment and 
into his bed where she wildly made love to him and groaned in wanton 
pleasure as his cock split her belly or stretched her gulping lips, but 
hardly a word passed between them. 

DeCosta, well aware of the Cosa Nostra saying to the effect that fish die by 
their mouths, kept his shut. He was somewhat amused by the fact that after a 
steaming session of exotic sex, the tousle-haired blonde beauty insisted on 
cooking him a meal with ingredients she herself had brought, and then 
thoroughly cleaning his pad. 

"You'd make a nice wife," he said once, reaching out from the bed to smack 
the flat of his hand across the luscious curve of her naked asscheeks, 
making her jump and yelp. 

"Don't tempt me, I might say 'yes' and you'd have to talk your way out of 
it;" Julie said, liking the way her rump tingled. As she unceremoniously 
yanked the sheets from the bed, almost spilling her Italian lover onto the 
floor, she said, "How any man can be so squeaky neat on the job and live in 
a hog pen like this, I don't know!" 

"Maybe so you'll come down and feed me and clean up," he said, flashing his 
white teeth. 

"I come here to get laid-and you know it!" Julie said boldly. She'd found 
she could speak whatever came into her head with DeCosta; communicate with 
him much deeper than with Russ. She thought it sort of funny that they'd 
never had a date, never sneaked off for a matinee at a motel or anything. He 
had been just a little bit surprised when he found she had had a key made 
for herself and brought some clothes for an emergency. She could have asked 
first, of course, but he didn't mind. She was pleasant to have around ... 
not prying, not telling him sad stories, just looking for a little casual 
affection and sex. And she was loosening up a lot there, almost like a child 
with a new toy. He liked the way she preferred to be naked with him, clothed 
in nothing but the long mass of golden hair. The way she would impulsively 
turn to him and kiss his penis, or pull his face to the sweet, silken furrow 
of her cunt for a kiss and then go on with whatever she happened to be 
doing. 

* * * 

Chris and Shawna Gael went about setting up their cup like Pentagon brass 
planning a major war. They tried to think of everything. DeCosta could be 
the fly in the ointment and Chris was for cutting him out. But Shawna, who 
had spread some money around and asked questions, knew Julie Bourbon was 
discreetly spending hours alone with DeCosta in his apartment. She argued 
that if they were going to pull little Micah in, then it would be good to 
have the group evenly balanced. Three men and three girls. Chris had finally 
agreed, but asked, "How do we get DeCosta? Mike will make the scene ... 
she'd walk ten miles for a fuck ... but that DeCosta...." 

"I'll get him," Shawna said. 

It was easy as she had expected. She simply went to the hotel-casino where 
he worked and waited, playing low-stakes blackjack until he appeared. She 
knew how he had turned on the few times they had been together, and she got 
him aside. 

"Want to join a mini-orgy?" she asked. "Your friends will be there." 

"Oh?" His eyebrows rose slightly, asking, "What friend?" 

"Julie Bourbon. Myself. Chris and Russ and Mike." 

"I'll have to drink that over," DeCosta said, heading for the bar. He used a 
chit to get an orange juice in a tall glass and sipped it slowly. Finally he 
passed the 21 table where Shawna was pondering whether to hit a hard 
sixteen, looking at a ten-up. He nodded imperceptibly. DeCosta's decision 
had been made on two factors. He had become honestly fond of the naive young 
blonde and was under no illusion about Shawna and Chris-they were in all 
likelihood planning to set her up for something and he felt the urge to 
protect her. Second, he liked his sex, and any orgy involving Mike, Shawna 
and Julie would be well laced with it. 

As an added bonus, he might be presented with an excuse to punch Russ 
Bourbon in the nose. He had come to know Julie well, and realized she wasn't 
a hot-pants tramp. Although she kept her troubles to herself, the fact that 
she was coming to his apartment and so grateful that he would screw her 
meant that her husband was, one way or another, a prick who needed a good 
swift kick in the ass. 

A date convenient to all was found. 

Chris Gael imported a very competent photographer who could handle one of 
the big Arriflexes behind the two-way mirrors, and keep his mouth shut. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

It began in later afternoon, almost twilight, when over the distant 
mountains to the west, thunderheads were mushrooming in the light of the 
setting sun. Black and ominous on top, their fat bottoms reflecting the 
day's light. 

There was an atmosphere of impending storm around the tree-shaded pool as 
the Oriental house-boy passed drinks and snacks. Heat waves still shimmered 
in the desert sands surrounding the rancho. The talk was nervous until the 
first few drinks took hold. 

Chris and Shawna were wondering whether they could pull it off. 

Micah was wondering if the leggy blonde was going to accuse her of trying to 
steal Russ. Now that she knew him better, Mike had concluded she didn't want 
him-he was in love with himself. Although he kept insisting she was the only 
one he could get really long-lasting hard for, she sensed there would be 
another girl in a few months. Meanwhile, he did fuck her beautifully and she 
had come to believe he even liked her little breasts. She had given some 
thought and a lot of appraising glances to her bosom lately and concluded 
that even though her tits were small, they did fit the rest of her. And they 
were firm, with no suggestion of sagging, ever. And certainly very 
responsive. Just a touch of his lips to the berry-like nipples was enough to 
make her almost blow her mind. Mike had read a lot of erotic books, in most 
of which the heroine sooner or later got screwed between the tits, usually 
with the man raising up at the last second to jam his jerking, spurting cock 
between her eagerly open lips or cumming all over her face and in her hair. 
Well, that could never happen to her, because, well formed or not, her 
breasts were still too small to be squeezed around a long, thick, grinding 
cock. 

Russ Bourbon was apprehensive, and not quite sure why both he and Julie had 
been invited. Although they had kept their domestic problem as quiet as 
possible, he knew the Vegas grapevine had picked it up and the word must 
have spread a long way, because twice he'd had calls from New York 
advertising agencies who wanted Julie to model ... but maybe that was just 
the result of enthusiastic reception of the layout he'd done for the fag rag 
merchant. What hurt was neither agency had asked him to handle the camera 
work. 

Julie, who had never heard about the job offers, was equally uncomfortable, 
surrounded as she was by her lover, her husband's mistress and her host and 
hostess, with whom she had had the wildest sex experience of her life. 

Only DeCosta was at ease, his Latin face showing nothing of whatever he 
might be feeling. He didn't consider it a crunch situation. There was 
nothing any of these people could take from him ... they could only give. He 
had nothing for them to steal. His cop's mind kept wondering why he had been 
invited and he looked for signals from Shawna, but none had come through. He 
tried to fish it out, even reaching back to his days of government service 
and considering the off-chance that this could be a part of an elaborate 
conspiracy to discredit him as a potential witness in some court cases which 
were pending ... very important cases, penetrating deep into the vitals of 
the Pentagon and both houses of Congress and even the White House itself, 
and he finally discarded this line of thought. There were other intelligence 
agents who could give the same testimony, and document it. 

Well, time would tell. He felt confident of taking care of himself. 

The houseboy brought more drinks, chilled shakers of Margaritas and other 
with Pernod and then as the sun went down and the moon came up, red heaters 
turned on to warm the tiles around the pool, making a dim, hellish light. 

* * * 

Julie was feeling the drinks a little, relaxing. She felt her courage 
building and thought this would be a fine time to have it all out with Russ. 
But they were guests, and what she wanted to say wasn't the sort of thing 
brought up at parties unless everybody is blind drunk, which none of them 
were. 

She was glad when a substantial but simple dinner of cold meats and cheeses 
and delicious things she couldn't quite identify arrived on a wheeled cart, 
along with refreshingly dry light wines, which went quickly and relaxingly 
to her head. She found herself sitting next to little Micah and the sort of 
impulse that often comes to the slightly, pleasantly intoxicated, struck 
her. The taffy-haired girl just had to clear the air. Sipping from a glass 
of perfectly chilled Chablis, she reached to touch Mike on the leg and said, 
"Can we talk? I mean here, quietly." 

"You've been wanting to all afternoon," the tiny girl said. "Let's air it 
out." 

"I know what's going on ... you do, too ... do you want Russ? No strings, no 
bitterness." Julie fought back tears. 

Mike chewed thoughtfully on a sliver of smoked Smithfield ham and said 
thoughtfully, "No ... at first it was exciting, having a man as handsome as 
Russ even look at little me! But if I could take him from you, he wouldn't 
be worth having." Her slender fingers caressed Julie's near naked body. "I 
don't think he can love, and you're finding that out the hard way. Girl 
talk, Julie. Now you look at me. Can you imagine a man like Russ getting 
hard, really hard for this skinny morsel? God, there just has to be some 
perversion in him, but I'm not Freud or Jung and couldn't guess at it. But 
when I feel his cock srewing up into my cunt, almost tearing me in half, 
he's so violent, I feel like a woman!" She formed a wry grin with her 
beautiful, heavy-lipped mouth. "And I guess you know that's the bottom 
line." 

For a long minute Julie studied the little dark-haired girl and saw 
something in her. It was subtle and yet honest. 

"Mike, I just realized something," Julie Bourbon whispered. "You're 
beautiful. I think you could have any man you wanted ... or any woman." 

"Is that an offer?" Mike said, joking. 

"It-it might be," the distressed young blonde murmured after some thought. 
"I've only made love with a woman once-I might as well tell you that it was 
Shawna-I never thought I could do that but it was beautiful. I don't know 
how to explain it." She turned to look deep into the other girl's eyes in 
the pale light. "I mean there was tenderness and friendship and, well, a 
delicious sexual satisfaction too. Kissing and licking her all over was ... 
so fulfilling." 

"And you feel you want to make love with me?" Mike said, unable to believe 
her ears. 

Julie felt an insane surge of desire to possess this little girl who had 
captivated her husband. 

"Intensily," she whispered, and found her fingers sliding up Mike's inner 
thighs and working obscenely under the elastic band of the bikini bottom, 
seeking the soft wetness of pussylips. "As soon as we can." 

"Let's go into the house," Mike said, and then, laughing softly, "but not 
hand in hand until we're out of sight." 

* * * 

At poolside, Chris and Shawna Gael looked at each other and with cocked 
eyebrows, imperceptibly nodded. 

DeCosta observed but gave no sign. 

Russ Bourbon missed the whole thing, being occupied with a drink and the 
logistical problems of achieving an objective. He had decided he wanted to 
fuck Shawna, which meant he would somehow have to separate the auburn-haired 
beauty from the others ... and for a good long time. Even though he had the 
arrangement with Chris Gael, he was still confronted with the possibility of 
either his wife or his near-midget friend catching them. And he didn't like 
the way DeCosta was being so quiet, apparently seeing and hearing all, but 
saying only enough to be polite. 

It took him several minutes to realize that Julie and Mike had both 
disappeared, probably to the rest room. He hoped Mike had sense enough to 
keep her cocksucking mouth shut! He thought she did. Vaguely he remembered 
the two of them whispering and touching. 

Jesus! Could it be that they are...? 

Oh, never! Julie's had the one lesbian experience, and she had been 
maneuvered into that, would never have even considered it if she had been 
sober. And if there was anyone in the world she had a right to hate, it was 
Micah. Maybe they had just gone off to quietly scratch and bite each other. 

* * * 

"Let's use the master bedroom," Mike said as a trembling Julie grasped her 
hand tightly. "From the pool they can't see the lights there ... and I want 
you with the lights on." 

"Oh, yes," mumbled Julie, feeling the passion rise in her loins. She had 
some reservations about returning to this room where she had had the 
explosive lesbian encounter with Shawna but as soon as they were inside and 
the door closed and she saw herself with the tiny dark-haired girl, alone, 
she felt it only could be nothing but good. "I want to hold you and kiss 
you," Julie whispered, pulling Mike's slenderly curvaceous body to her. The 
smaller girl raised her parted lips, her tongue flickering wetly over them. 
With a groan of perverted desire, Julie Bourbon drove her gaping mouth down, 
felt the hot softness and the spearing little tongue. She knew her knees 
were shaking as her lasciviously seeking hands stroked Mike's smooth-fleshed 
back and worked at the ties of her bikin bottom. 

"Ummmmm...." Julie moaned, sucking the darting tongue deep into her mouth. 
"Get the top part off!" 

Melding to her, Mike deftly undid the skimpy brassiere of Julie's swimsuit 
as their straining bodies undulated together and Julie's obscenely fumbling 
fingers stripped away the bottom of her bikini and sought the warmth and 
sweet wetness of Mike's pussy. 

The utter, ironic perversion of the situation brought Julie Bourbon to a 
peak of desire she had never felt before. 

She was in bed with her husband's girl friend while he was no more than a 
hundred feet away. 

She wanted to caress and kiss the cunt that he had caressed and kissed. 

Her lips and tongue and fingers lewdly explored as the little girl writhed 
in rising desire, her own hands and lips roaming. 

"I'm going to eat you," Julie said, shocked at her own words. 

"Oooohhhh ... Yeeeesssss," Micah whispered. "And I want to eat you, too. Do 
you hate me?" 

"I don't know," Julie Bourbon whispered as her wet lips sought the tiny buds 
of Mike's breasts. "I really don't know." As her soft, hot mouth began to 
move lower and lower, she mumbled her words around her urgently laving 
tongue. "I should ... you know ... but hate, love, so close ... now I love 
you...." 

Slowly she parted the dark-haired girl's trembling thighs and knelt between 
them. She stared at the tiny slit of her pussy and wondered how it had been 
able to expand and take her husband's cock. Nuzzling against the hot wetness 
of Mike's thighs, she slowly spread the fleshy, pulsing cunt-lips and gazed 
at the pearly, coral-hued inner flesh, and her nostrils flared as Julie 
scented the woman. 

"Ooooohhhhh...." the aroused blonde groaned, as her soft mouth opened and 
her tongue darted out through her fine white teeth to seek the sweetness. 
She sighed as she felt the tender thighs of the other girl close around her 
head, and delicate fingers combing through her tousled wheat-blonde hair. 
Her eager tongue slashed and swirled, seeking the juices and then the 
trembling clitoris. 

Her hands moved on the bed, spreading the quivering smoothly rounded 
asscheeks, and impulsively Julie jerked the other girl up to her mouth and 
ran her tongue up and down the wide-splayed buttocks. Even as she 
alternately lashed and licked and speared into the two orifices, Julie was 
wondering what she had become. 

Evil! 

Depraved! 

But she needed this! This heady aroma of woman, this sweet juicy, tight 
little cunt to suck and lick.... 

If only somebody would fuck her now.... 

* * * 

The hidden tape cameras were running, and the imported photog was moving 
behind the two-way mirrors with the heavy Arriflex. Although he was 
homosexual, he was excited at seeing the two beautiful girls making it, with 
Julie's tongue spearing in to its fullest in the seeping, clenching lips of 
the small girl's pussy ... the way her face was wet with the other's vaginal 
secretions. He filmed it all, as the taffy-haired girl was urged to swing 
around so Mike could lick her cunt too. It looked like they could go at each 
other all night, but he had his instructions. Using the zoom lens he came in 
tight on the wet shots, the tongues delving into cunts and asscheeks, until 
the film ran out. Expertly he replaced the reels and silently slipped 
outside to give the sign to Chris Gael, A second camera was loaded in case 
the first one ran out of film at a crucial moment. 

* * * 

Julie and Mike were locked tightly, lips to loins, grinding against each 
other in wild lesbian passion when the door to the huge bedroom opened and 
the scantily clad group slipped in. Julie was so entranced by tasting the 
heady woman-flesh that she never heard it until suddenly they were 
surrounding the bed. 

Her husband, Russ, lewdly fondling the full ripe mounds of Shawna. Rolling 
her long nipples between his fingers. 

Chris and her own lover DeCosta grinning as the flat of her delving tongue 
froze in the hot slit of Mike's churning pussy. 

"Why stop now?" Russ said. He was peeling his jeans off. "Let's all have a 
party!" 

Dazed, still under the influence of the Pernod and other things she had 
consumed, the hotly aroused young taffy-haired girl was stunned as she gazed 
between the lubriciously sweathing thighs of Mike and saw them all stripping 
their swimming suits off. 

"Oh, my God!" Julie gasped as the bed rocked with their weight. The three 
men were fully, magnificently erect, and Shawna's cunt, fringed with its 
contrasting auburn hair, glistening with the moistness of desire. She 
wondered if this could be a dream ... but no, their flesh was too real. She 
felt herself pressed between male and female bodies and lips and tongues and 
teeth and fingers, all seeming to reach the most sensitive part of her body. 
She squirmed and groaned and kissed and licked in return, moaning, 
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!" 

Whatever morality she once possessed vanished in that moment. 

"I'M CUMMMIINNNGG ... CUUMMIINNGG ... CUUUMMMIINNNGGG!!!" she cried out, 
furiously grinding up her loins to whatever lips were sucking her cunt. "OH, 
FUCK MEEEE!" 

She found herself cumming into the anonymous lips. Gushing from the 
flowering petals of her pussy ... and all that did was increase her need for 
a long, thick, hard cock ramming into her suddenly wanton flesh. 

But they denied this to her ... and they took passionate little Micah away. 

In a daze, she saw Mike pulled into a kneeling position on the big bed, her 
face over Russ' loins, and then the incredible length of his cock ramming 
into her wide-stretched lips even as Chris Gael knelt behind her wildly 
waving ass and rammed his penis smooth and deep into the hot, wet depths of 
her rectum, hardly causing the little girl to miss a beat in the steady 
plunging of her avid mouth up and down the rigid phallus. 

"Oh, I can't believe it!" Julie whispered, even knowing that she was very 
much a part. Her tender young cunt burned. Strangely, she felt no jealousy 
at seeing her husband being fellated by the girl she had just tasted minutes 
before. She was fascinated by the way Mike's rectal passage clamped like a 
hot velvet glove wetly around the rampaging thick cock that was drilling 
into it. 

This was the wildest thing that had ever happened! 

Her own cunt was on fire. 

Seeing the little girl sucking cock and getting fucked in the ass pushed her 
past the boiling point and almost pitifully the aroused young blonde looked 
to Shawna and DeCosta and mumbled, "I need ... need ... Ooooohhhh ... fuck!" 
She licked her cum-glistening lips and gasped, "Both of you!" 

They moved to her, reaching, caressing her tingling flesh. Kissing and 
lewdly stroking her breasts and between her writhing legs. DeCosta moved to 
mount her and aimed his ready penis at her lubricious cunt, but Julie pushed 
and kicked. 

"No!" she cried. "I want it like she's getting it! Up my ass! I've never had 
it that way! Fuck my ass, DeCosta!" 

"Roll over and get up on your knees," he said eagerly, stroking the long, 
thick shaft of his manhood. "Shawna, you hold her, because she'll yell when 
I go in." 

Shawna held her in a very effective way, clamping Julie's face between her 
strong thighs so that the aroused blonde wife's lips were pulled tight to 
her cunt, as Julie's smooth asscheeks waved in the air. 

"Uuuuugggghhhh!!!!" Julie gasped, her lips savoring the pussy as the first 
pain came. She knew it was only a finger, stretching the rubbery sphincter 
muscle, but it hurt! It twirled around, going deeper and deeper ... and then 
there was a second finger. Held prisoner by the strong legs and hands 
gripping her tangled hair, she couldn't stop licking the deliciously gushing 
slit that Shawna was undulating tantalizingly against her mouth. And then 
the fingers were withdrawn from her wide-stretched anus and she sighed with 
relief. She couldn't understand how Mike was taking it up the ass so easily, 
only inches away from her in the big bed. 

Then she felt the soft rubbery pressure of the cockhead press between her 
clenching asscheeks, and after the roughness of the fingers it felt good ... 
and Julie really wanted to try it! 

But she didn't realize how long and hard the prick would be. 

The fingers had stretched her sensitive flesh until it opened readily now, 
but she gasped and stopped her licking and kissing and tried to cry out that 
it was too thick! 

"Keep eating my pussy, baby ... you'll love it, after a minute," Shawna 
murmured, pulling Julie's head back to her seething cunt. "Just relax 

... if you've never fucked in the ass, you don't know a thing about 
fucking." 

"Ooooohhhh ... aaaaahhhhh...." Julie groaned, her tongue again seeking the 
wet, hot furrow of Shawna's grinding cunt even as the impaling phallus 
slowly penetrated her tight virgin anus. She felt DeCosta's strong hands 
gripping the grinding cheeks of her buttocks as inexorably he pressed his 
cock, hard as a bar of iron, into her torturously stretched asshole. 

"Uuuuuggghhh ... Oooohhhh!!!!" the aroused taffy-haired girl groaned in 
agony. In a mirror from the corner of her eye she could see her beautiful 
face held captive by the clutching thighs and hands of Shawna while 
DeCosta's hands held her squirming hips in a vise-like grip and his long 
cock slowly bored into her tender little anus. God! She had never imagined 
anything so salaciously obscene, so humiliating, could happen to her! Yet in 
the sheer vile perversion of it, mingled with the pain, there was excitement 
and arousal. She felt the flexing of his cock in her ass, stretching her 
sphincter even wider, and then the lunging of his body as he rammed all of 
it into her softly yielding flesh to the hilt. It seemed like her quaking 
belly was split in two, and with her wet mouth held tight to Shawna's 
surging cunt, she tried to scream but there was hardly any sound ... and 
Shawna was cumming in her mouth, gushing with the sweetness of Vermont maple 
syrup and Julie Bourbon was sucking and swallowing and wildly driving her 
hot wet tongue into the depths of the flexing vagina so aroused by the other 
girl's climax that she forgot the pain in her rectum. Oh, how sweet it was! 

Her mind reeled ... and when reality returned, the aroused young wife 
realized DeCosta was immobile, barely flexing the mushroom-shaped head of 
his cock in her asshole, not screwing it. The excitement of tasting Shawna's 
cum had freed her constricted muscles and the pain of impalement had begun 
to turn to wildly erotic pleasure, a sort she had never felt before. 

DeCosta's throbbing penis was jammed so tight in her clenching ass that his 
semen-heavy balls were mashed against the flowering lips of her cunt, the 
hair on them tickling the wildly aroused bud of her clitoris. Scant inches 
away she could see the wet length of Chris Gael's cock reaming and ramming 
mercilessly into the wildly gyrating asscheeks of little Mike ... while 
Mike's distended lips sucked furiously on the rigid pole of her own 
husband's prick! 

Fighting her way free of the tightly clamping thighs of Shawna, her lips 
sweet and dripping with the auburn-haired girl's cum, Julie Bourbon writhed 
and undulated her hips against the un-moving cock buried in her anus and 
cried, "Ooo-oohhhh ... Why don't you fuck me hard, the way she's getting it! 
Now it feels so good all the way up my ass!" 

It was frustrating, seeing little Micah get it so hard, each pile-driving 
stroke of Chris Gael's into her lubricious asshole driving her tiny body 
forward and down so that Russ' cock was jammed hard into her eager mouth ... 
so hard that her lips were swollen and even split just enough so that a thin 
stream of blood oozed from them, as her pretty face was completely filled 
with cock, like she was feasting on a baseball bat! 

"Relax, pretty blonde girl," DeCosta said, grinding slowly into her churning 
ass. "We've thought of giving you a hell-of-a-lot more than Mike's getting!" 
He nodded to Shawna and said, "She's ready now ... move out!" To Russ he 
said, "Sandwich time, my friend." 

Confused, Julie had no idea of what they were talking about. All she knew 
was that Shawna had squirmed away, depriving her now eager lips of the 
delicious cunt and she was being rolled around like a toy until DeCosta was 
beneath her, holding her by her burning hot breasts as her legs splayed wide 
and he sank his cock even deeper into her tightly clutching little anus and 
his maleness ground hotly into her vitals. 

Russ pulled his saliva-wet rigid spear of manhood from the gulping lips of 
the little girl and moved to kneel between her legs, rolling the wet, fleshy 
foreskin back over the bulbous knob of his prick. 

Suddenly the terrifying reality came to her! They were both going to fuck 
her at once! DeCosta in her now-eager ass, and her husband in her cunt! 

It would tear her tender flesh, rip her apart! 

"Noooooo-Please don't!" the terrified blonde pleaded, twisting and trying to 
free herself. But DeCosta held her with the strength of a devil, offering 
her wide-stretched cuntlips to her husband. She felt his cockhead (why was 
it he could be hard so long and beautifully now in this sort of situation 
when he couldn't satisfy her alone?) pressing between the quivering wet lips 
of her pussy. Julie Bourbon panted with desire and groaned with pain as her 
photographer-husband, grinning like a satyr, thrust his hips forward and the 
mushroom-shaped head of his penis rammed into the softly yielding lips of 
her palpitating glistening vagina. She screamed, Aaaauuuggghh!!" 

A second lunge. It felt like a full-grown redwood tree as it rammed into her 
tender cuntal flesh, hard alongside the cock in her ass. Tears of pain 
flooded her dark, frightened eyes as she was literally sandwiched between 
the two rapacious men. She could feel their iron-hard penises swelling and 
flexing, separated only by the thin mebranes of her vaginal and rectal 
passages. 

They began to fuck her, seeking a rhythm. 

In and out of her two straining orifices the flesh-splitting phalluses slid, 
smoothly as the pistons of an old-time steam-locomotive, before die-sels 
took over. 

The trembling, sobbing honey-haired girl felt herself being rolled on her 
side, and that position made it easier to accommodate the brutal double 
impalement. Dimly she realized Chris was still screwing Micah in the ass, 
and the little girl was moaning with pleasure, ramming her taut buttocks 
back to meet every stroke of his plunging penis, while Shawna was smoking a 
hand-rolled cigarette with a strange sweetish aroma and stroking the 
glistening furrow of her cunt as she watched them all. 

Julie felt like a tennis ball at Wimbledon as her husband and her lover 
found the rhythm. 

One rammed his rampant cock into her ass as the other withdrew from her cunt 
until only the bulbous head remained inside her wet, straining flesh, and 
then the reverse happened. She could dimly hear the liquid sounds of their 
fucking. 

Suddenly, inexplicably, it became wildly wonderful! 

"OOOOHHHH ... FUUCCKK MEEEEEE!!!" the aroused blonde model cried in rising 
ecstasy, joining in the wanton, erotic beat. She ground her churning, 
clenching ass back, screwing hard as she could on the impalement of 
DeCosta's penis, then fucked violently up the slippery hardness of her 
husband's phallus, feeling their balls smack hard against the lubricious 
lips of her cunt and her sweating asscheeks. She screamed, "I WANT YOUR 
COCKS!!!" 

Wildly buffeted between the two, she had even more salacious desires. She 
managed to grab at Shawna and pull her close. Shawna, with a knowing smile, 
did what Julie Bourbon wanted. 

She writhed and squeezed into the churning mass of flesh, offering her cunt 
to Julie's searching tongue, grinding deliciously against the taffy-haired 
girl's wetly eager mouth and skillfully massaging the tender out-thrust 
mounds of her breasts and contorting herself so she could bend to kiss the 
spike-like sensitive nipples. 

* * * 

Julie thought she'd never stop cumming. 

It was an endless thing, the eruption from deep inside, like a volcano 
blowing its top for days on end, as the three of them expended their own 
passions on her yearning young body. She was dimly aware that Chris and 
Micah had exhausted themselves long ago and were lying, slick with sweat, 
his cock still between her clenching asscheeks, watching, and this made it 
more exciting. 

The sheer sensual ecstasy of the tactile encounter finally forced Julie into 
a faint. 

She never suspected the homosexual photographer behind the mirror with the 
Arri sound camera. 

He, in turn, had tired of its nearly fifty pounds on his shoulder, set it up 
on a tripod, still whirring, and, opening his pants, masturbated. 

He even thought it might be interesting if he could establish a relationship 
with an understanding girl. He wondered what it would be like to have a girl 
suck him. And to taste cunt. He thought that maybe he wasn't really gay, 
just deprived. He'd really like to be straight. As the cum spurted from his 
frustrated penis, he made a decision ... he would ask Chris to fix him up 
with either the blonde or the little girl who was almost like a boy. He was 
sure he could get excited enough to screw them in the ass, particularly the 
little one. 

If he got through that, they could go down on each other, and by that time 
they might understand his problem, and help him to fuck. Be sympathetic. 

He was sure that even if the attempt failed, and he couldn't really have sex 
with a woman, it would be an encounter, an experience well worth having.... 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Julie Bourbon hardly blinked when she saw the rushes of the film. 

She knew now what she was. Accepted it, and thought she liked her sexuality. 

She found herself liking everybody! Even Russ and Mike. 

It had been a shock when she discovered what they had all done together had 
been filmed, but her dismay had dissipated as she sat in the projection room 
of Chris and Shawna's big house and relived it in living color on the 
screen. 

Strangely, she was not upset. 

The taffy-haired young wife had instantly agreed to let some film clips be 
used by Carleton Harris' magazine as she sat with her arm possessively 
around little Micah, cupping a tiny breast. She had found the road to love 
and acceptance of herself had many turnings, but was slightly annoyed when 
Chris Gael intruded, asking her to meet the young, almost invisible, but 
good-looking man who had operated the projector. His name was Paul, and he 
seemed to be very shy, hardly able to look her in the eye. He was certainly 
handsome, but there was something about him. 

Chris diplomatically explained the situation and Julie felt sorrow for the 
young man. She said, "Yes ... I'd love to, if you'll have me." She paused 
and added, "I don't care if you're gay!" 

They went to a bedroom where there were no mirrors and with a freedom she 
didn't think she had, Julie said, "I want to be naked with you." 

She slipped her thin shortie dress off and slid her gossamer lace-edged 
panties down her shapely legs as he stood and stared. 

"Oh, come on, Paul," she said gently, and began to undress him, as he stood, 
trembling. As his slacks dropped to the floor, she dropped to her knees, her 
now-skilled fingers caressing his male body. His penis was limp. She fondled 
it and felt response. She rolled the thick foreskin back over the 
bell-shaped head and murmured, "You're BEAUTIFUL!" 

She kissed the velvet softness and took it into the hot wet cavern of her 
mouth and felt it grow. 

She felt her new power as a woman, knowing this was for her, that she was 
making it happen. Julie wanted him to cum in her hungry mouth, but knew he 
needed more than that. 

He needed to know he could fuck a woman. 

He was rigid as the trunk of an oak as she rose and pulled him to the bed 
and then on top of her and before he could detumesce, deep into her 
lubricious cunt. 

"OOOOHHHH ... THIS IS GOOOODDDD!!!" the aroused girl cried, screwing tightly 
up the pole of his male-flesh. She clawed and clutched and kissed and bit 
and her legs scissored wildly in the air as she cried out, "UUUMMM ... OH, 
PAUL!! FUCK MEEEEE!!!!" 

Suddenly he was a demon plunging into the soft, yielding saddle of her 
splayed thighs, his penis driving endlessly into her dripping cunt like 
bullets from a machine gun, until suddenly she felt the swelling and 
lengthening of his cock and its hot, sweet spurting. 

"Oh, God," the sweating blonde murmured, holding him tight, her legs 
scissored around his sweat-damp back. "I've never had it like that before. 
Never, Paul." Dazedly she rolled her deep dark eyes, clutching and kissing 
his sweating body. Tenderly Julie brushed his tumbled hair back as she 
whispered, "You only thought you were gay!" 

"Oooh, your cunt ... your beautiful cunt!" he breathed. "You know, I think I 
can do it again, Julie." 

"OOOOhhhh ... YEEEESSSS!" she whispered, beginning to undulate as she felt 
him growing hard again in her seething pussy. "DO IT ... DO IT ... OH, PAUL, 
FUCK MEEEEE!!!" 

* * * 

The film and tapes were edited and some transition scenes and dialogue were 
worked out. When Julie saw herself, she realized that with a good photog and 
editor, she was much more than a model ... she was really an actress; that 
her unleashed sexuality came through. To her, Russ was almost a robot ... 
there was a coldness in the scenes where he appeared. Chris Gael, by the 
time he and Paul had finished cutting the film and tapes and looping in 
sound, confessed with a grin that he had set it all up to get blue-movie 
material but this he would hold. 

Show at Cannes, get worldwide recognition. 

What had started out as a sneaky porn project had, with judicious editing, 
become a beautiful love story, orbiting around a lovely but repressed young 
girl awakening to her own sexuality. 

And Julie Bourbon was the star. 

She knew it was good, because it was real. She hadn't been acting. The 
feelings of passion and humiliation were undeniable. 

A lawyer was called and came to prepare contracts. None of them noticed when 
Russ Bourbon left. He was suddenly gone, and the only thing any of them 
later knew of him was that his name appeared on the masthead of Carleton 
Harris' magazine as chief photographer. 

Julie didn't cry. She felt some sorrow because her dream had broken, but now 
she had new friends. She could touch and kiss and they could to the same to 
her and it was all beautiful. The movie, finally titled, THE GIRL picked up 
a couple of awards at Cannes, was banned in Boston, Kansas City and San 
Diego, and was an instant success. 

After Russ disappeared, Julie Bourbon had to face the problem of finding 
living quarters. Moving in with DeCosta wasn't practical, and she hated the 
hotel anyway. The deserted wife finally opted to stay where she was wanted, 
with Chris and Shawna Gael. Paul was staying there also, working on new 
films and exploring his newfound maleness. Micah kept her own small 
apartment, but slept there on a few occasions, usually sliding into the bed 
with the others. DeCosta came when he had a chance. 

Julie found it a lovely arrangement. Nobody jealous or demanding. In the 
dim, mirrored bedroom, lighted only by a candle, soft lips would begin to 
kiss the sensitive flesh of her legs and then engulf her flowering cunt ... 
or a rock-hard penis might rub across her lips until she awakened enough to 
lick and suck as it slid smoothly into the depths of her throat ... or a 
cock easing into her always-ready pussy. 

She really liked two things. 

Paul was interested only in the woman now, and how he could fuck! Whatever 
hangup he had had was wiped out, and she felt good about that. 

She liked the freedom to be herself and yet feel she belonged. Russ had 
tried to use her and keep her in a cage. She was honestly glad he had 
decided to go away. 

It was so good, being able to do the natural things. 

Walk naked in the sun. Swim naked in the pool. Be casually kissed on the 
breasts or belly or cunt by any of them, and do the same, with no shame. 

Touch and be touched, kiss and be kissed, and return the love. 

This is life, she thought as she sat with legs crossed in the full lotus and 
the sun burned her skin and bleached her hair. 

This is life.... 


THE END
