Over Daddy's Dead Body
by Wade Eaton


Chapter One 

The June dawn was already hot and stuffy. I w, tossing in bed trying to find 
a cool spot. The air conditioner was letting me down. Rolling from right to 
left, I made an effort to get comfortable but was unsuccessful. I turned to 
my right. Somehow I breathed easier that way. Dimly, I heard the buzzing of 
the alarm. 

"Rise and shine, Wade," my wife was calling from the head of the stairs. 

"Now you know why I sleep alone!" I retorted. 

"Sure, you do. But you still screwed me twice last night. Twice, Mister 
Excell, and at your age yet." 

"Well, madam, thirty-eight isn't exactly over the hill, especially with my 
wife, one of the best I've ever had." 

Nell laughed. "And just how many have you had?" 

"No prying, madam." 

"You don't like company." 

"I do, and I get plenty of it at the confounded office," I growled. 

"And get paid for it." Her voice rose. "You're a lone wolf, Wade. You hate 
everybody." 

"Not quite, only the ones I know, and some of them are wolves, too." 

"Like your Oklahoma ancestors, howling over the prairies." 

I watched my wife dash across the hall to the bathroom. I called out, "My 
ancestors lived in quiet sod houses, burned dried buffalo chips, and didn't 
have to listen to clacking keys and jangling bells all day." 

Her voice came muffled but merry, "Your poor ancestors! No bathroom, no 
place for the gals to take a douche. They had to run out in zero weather to 
the phone booth, listening to both the wind and the wolves howling. They 
drew brackish water from pitcher pumps and-" 

"Okay, Nell, I'm up. Please heat the skillet." "You get fruit and cereal 
this morning." "Wolves are meat eaters," I grumbled. "How about some nice 
hot sausage? Make me horny." "Hah! That you don't need." I yawned, 
stretched, got to my feet and looked at myself in the wall mirror. My belly 
showed signs of too many calories. If my whacker hadn't been eight inches 
long I couldn't have seen it without a periscope. I wasn't 
distinguished-looking, but I'd been told the women liked my appearance. My 
brown hair curled nicely, but showed a bit of gray at the temples. 

My wife was saying, "Lissa was late getting home last night. Vic Miles." 

"That guy!" I growled, getting into my shorts. "Oh, he's not so bad, Wade. 
About like all mod youngsters." 

"Mod, my foot! You don't know much about men, Nell." 

"And don't want to. Why should I?" "It might help." 

"I know enough, you jackass, with you my only teacher." 

"Nell," I said, buttoning my shirt. "We've got to stop Lissa and Vic. I 
don't trust him. He-" 

"You won't make her do anything, Wade. You the guy who doesn't like folks." 

"I didn't say that, you did. But that young punk is out, even if he is the 
big boss' son. First thing you know Lissa will show up with-" 

"There you go!" Nell thrust her hands on her hips. "Kids aren't dumb 
nowadays. They know more about sex than their parents." 

"Speak for yourself." 

"Don't worry about Lissa, Wade. She'll do all right. Besides," Nell gave me 
a long straight look, "who are we to be trying to stop her? We're a pair of 
hypocrites, Wade. We screw each other like minks, and if we think Lissa is 
getting a little on the QT, we try to stop her." 

Playfully, I blocked her as she tried to pass me. She was wearing a blue 
robe and smelled of cologne and hand lotion. I grabbed her and kissed her. 
"Nice toothpaste you're using, Mamma, and you smell sexy from ass to 
appetite." 

She was wearing a hair net, but underneath lay a stack of rich, brown hair, 
fresh from the clever hands of a Sylvandale beautician. Beneath the mop 
smoldered a pair of gray eyes that could change from humor to passion in 
seconds. Her breasts! They came to perfect points, flattering a female movie 
star at her zenith. Such breasts were not to be concealed. Mother Nature was 
lavish with lumps, making sweaters worthwhile, even on a mature woman. No 
road builders ever engineered more curves and detours than Nell Excell 
failed to conceal. 

My pulse raced. I wanted some more of her. 

"Wade? What are you-!" she exclaimed, playfully trying to free herself from 
my abrupt embrace. "What do you think I am? Surely, after last night, you're 
not panting again, and-" 

"I am, Mamma, and so are you," I said, picking her up and carrying her into 
the bedroom. Smiling and pouting, she squirmed out of her wrap, and in 
seconds we were nude, lying side by side. We started chuckling at each 
other, but not for long. I drew the blinds and turned on the ruby night 
light. 

Nell was a rather large woman, with heavy breasts and ample hips. The mat of 
curly fuzz, jealously concealing her pussy, was brown like her hair. There 
was no blemish on her plump thighs, no hair, no unsightly veins, nothing but 
alluring sweet female. 

"Wade, honey," she murmured, snuggling closer, "I have to admit I'll never 
get enough of that big thing of yours. Your daddy must have had a 
transfusion from a jackass. But this is the third time ... So soon . . . Can 
you . . . ?" 

"Of course I can, stupid. Just run your hand down between your 
you-know-where and feel the old monster weaving his head." 

She did, and an ecstatic thrill raced all the way from my balls to my 
overhanging brow. Then Nell spread her legs and lifted her knees. My whacker 
jerked erect, hard and stiff, almost before I could flop in between those 
alluring thighs. I spidered them a bit and seized one of her large, ruby red 
nipples between my teeth. 

"Wade, Wade!" she gasped. "That's wonderful! Bite it, honey! Bite it hard! 
Urn!" 

I obeyed her, then she reached up and kissed my lips lingeringly, darting 
her sweet tongue between mine and spanking hard. She was hot as a 
firecracker, but she had nothing on me. I wondered if our sex craze for each 
other would ever cool. Now she was drawing on my tongue and whimpering. Then 
she drew back and caught my lower lip between her perfect white teeth and 
clamped down. I winced, tasted the salt of blood, but a chilly thrill 
flashed through my balls and up my spine. The head of my old monster was 
rubbing against Nell's soft, warm belly, and she began to moan and twist 
beneath me. She reached for my u]ck, found it, tickled it under the head and 
spidered my balls. I pushed her hand away, drew back. 

"Wait, Mamma, wait," I said. "I want you to be ready, really aching for it, 
before-" 

"Wade, Wade, I am ready! Don't tease me!" She shuddered and pressed hard 
against me. I took my whacker in my own hand and placed it against her clit, 
rubbing it gently. She thrashed about, moaning and panting, then kissed me 
furiously. 

"Wade, honey," she begged. "Now! Now, give it to me, all of it!" 

So I did, all eight inches of hard, stiff cock in one savage thrust. 

She yelped, and I should have kicked myself, but she'd asked for it, hadn't 
she? And you know how it is: a stiff prick has no conscience. 

I started to pull back, but she clutched my ass in a viselike grip and 
jerked me tightly against her. Just then, I wished a tree would fall on my 
buttocks. Nell's pelvis began a steady motion of its own, growing so wild I 
had to grasp her back and slow her down a bit. Nuts! I didn't want to 
explode in a few seconds. I wanted this screw to last awhile, even if I 
hadn't had breakfast. But I was helpless. 

I clutched Nell's hips, and we began a wild up-and-down motion together 
until we were boiling with passion. She held me so tightly I could hardly 
breathe. Then something fluttered and moved in my balls, and a breathtaking 
thrill flashed up my spine. 

Nell sensed it. "Screw me, honey! Do it hard, fast! I can feel you!" 

Well, it was beautiful for us both, but that weary old word doesn't get it. 
I'm trying to think of one that will. Anyway, we got our cookies together 
and eased through the golden gates after we'd climbed the magic mountain of 
sex. We lay there gasping and shivering, then finally relaxed and caught our 
breath. We were damp with perspiration. After a bit I pulled out my 
exhausted old monster, and we both lay quiet, disregarding the come. 

The breakfast cereal was topped with peaches and sweetened with honey, just 
like my Nell's pussy. When I pulled my chair to the table, I faced the 
kitchen clock. I had to be at the office by eight-thirty. Sipping my coffee, 
I frowned at Nell. 

"Emasculated coffee!" I growled. 

"Have to slow you down some way," she kidded. 

"My ancestors didn't drink coffee like this. They ground it good and 
strong." 

"Their nerves didn't have raw ends like yours," Nell countered. 

"Lissa up yet?" I said. 

"She didn't get in till after three." 

"That'll never do. She'll ruin her health. I'll have to talk to her 
tonight." 

"Will you, lover? I'm not holding my breath. You're such a nice guy. So 
everybody says." 

"I'm flattered," I said, but thought if only they knew the truth about me. 

Nell's words echoed in my memory. Wade Excell a nice guy? Hah! Not any more. 
He's not what he was in the little Midwestern town where he was reared; and 
back at the state university, where he did menial chores to help pay his 
tuition; and even in this Southern city where he met and married the 
beautiful sexy girl, now the mother of an equally gorgeous sexy daughter. In 
his youth, he'd grazed in many soft, alluring meadows. 

Now I wondered if my daughter, my beloved Lissa, would be as passionate as 
her father. She couldn't get away with this sex game, I felt sure. In time 
she'd end up on the rack, broken, a tramp! And these boys she was dating, 
especially Vic. Vic went around with tight pants that highlighted his 
privates, one hand in his pocket to make sure his pistol was cocked and 
ready. He was always licking his lips and conjuring up erotic images. Like 
the hypocrite I was, I hated Vic, hated all the young punks who were copies 
of what I had been. 

"Wade! You'll be late," Nell called from the door. 

"On my way, Mamma." 

The motor caught with a roar. Rear wheels kicked gravel as they bucked the 
driveway. I slowed at the entrance to wave good-bye to Nell. I gazed at my 
house. It was sturdy, a two-story with rock veneer walls formed of natural 
stone and roof shingled with cedar that would outlast me. A creeping vine of 
ivy clung to the north wall, its persistent roots seeking out the crevices. 
What a home for spatsies and hornets. To my left I saw the sun, a red ball, 
its rays lighting a path through the blue haze hovering above the oaks. The 
fragrance of early morning pleased my nostrils. 

There scooted Ratso, the family tomcat. "Poor old pussy chaser!" I muttered. 
"One eye gouged out, forelegs mauled and chewed, ears clawed and cut, 
survivor of hundreds of fights. What a price to pay for his nooky, just to 
have the female fight him after he jerks his whacker out!" 

"Wade! You will be late," Nell hollered again. 

I jerked up my hand, cut the car onto Sylvan Road, one of many in this 
modern suburb. Moments later, the car was swallowed in the flow of machines 
heading downtown. I drove mechanically, while my mind peeled off the years 
and revived an evening that often returned to thrill me . . . 

It was a secluded spot. Peacha snuggled close to me in the front seat of the 
car. The moon, full and white, smiled down, and a warm breeze caressed our 
hot faces. "Peacha" really was her name. And it suited her admirably, for 
she was in truth a peach, with her dark brown hair and her full lips so soft 
and kissable. Her eyes slanted a bit but she was not Oriental. 

"Just think, Wade," she murmured, "we'll soon be married." 

"I know, honey." 

She hesitated, then kissed me long and lingeringly. "Couldn't we set the 
date now, Wade?" 

I drew back. "Not just yet. I'm expecting a transfer most any day, and that 
would put a crimp in things." 

"But we could marry and I could go with you. Then," she hugged me, "you 
wouldn't have to make a trip back after me." 

I watched her twist the engagement ring, feeling a knot form in my stomach. 
Was she going to be persistent? 

"We mustn't rush things, Peacha," I said, soberly. 

My jock was already throbbing. I helped her remove her bra. Her titties were 
full and well-formed, and in the bright moonlight, they looked like works of 
art. The nipples were already stiff, making me think of sweet, ripe cherries 
begging to be plucked. Her waist was dainty, her hips nicely rounded and 
firm and her thighs gorgeous. They tapered down to dazzling dimpled knees. 

"Oh, Wade," she whispered, "love me, honey. Love me till I scream." 

Well, I didn't want her yelling out here in the midst of things, so I 
grabbed her and held her close. What a jolt! This little gal really had it. 
I felt her warm body against mine after we'd skinned off most of our 
clothes. The night was warm, balmy. My balls twisted and my old monster 
jerked almost out of control. Peacha was wearing an alluring perfume that 
made me think of flowers, weaving in a summer breeze. She reached up, melted 
her lips into mine, then spun my tongue with hers. It was sweet and 
thrilling. She hugged me enticingly and pushed her seeking pelvis against 
mine. Brother, was she asking for it. But so was I. 

I got down on my knees and started kissing her delectable thighs. In the 
moonlight her legs looked white as marble, entirely seductive, not a single 
ugly hair in sight. Working upward, I caught the musky odor of her enticing 
pussy. It had the fragrance of the truly feminine person. Reaching her 
crotch, I rooted into the thatch of curly brown fuzz that seemed jealously 
trying to conceal her pussy. I stabbed it a time or two with my tongue, then 
spanked her enlarged clit. 

Her soft fingers moved down, touched my whacker, then fondled my balls. Her 
firm titties were pushing against my chest, the stiffened nipples touching 
the hair. Then she moved her dainty fingers up and grasped the head of my 
old monster. This sent shock waves flashing through me from ass to appetite. 

"Do me, Wade, do me!" she begged. "I'll scream if you don't! I love it . . . 
love it . . . love . . ." 

I still didn't want her yelling, so it wasn't a minute till she moaned, bit 
my neck, cried out softly, shuddered and went limp. 

"Oh, Wade," she murmured, "it... it was good, but you? I cheated on you, 
didn't I, honey?" 

"It's okay, doll," I said. "I'm saving it for the real thing. You better 
rest for a couple of minutes." 

"Honey," she cooed, "who needs rest?" 

"You can't mean you're ready again?" 

She didn't answer with words, but her body said plenty. She pushed hard 
against me, her ravishing thighs trembling. My hands roved over her 
voluptuous figure, every ounce of my body craving hers. She whimpered and 
writhed as my fingers spidered the lips of her pussy and flicked over her 
enlarged, stiff clit. My balls were aching, pulled up tight, and my whacker 
was jerking and throbbing. I was afraid it would explode into thin air. 
Quickly, I located her enticing pussy with the head of my cock. With a 
couple of savage thrusts I buried all eight inches in a grave of ecstasy. 

"Oh, God!" she yelped, "that hurt, honey, but it . . . feels wonderful now." 

Slipping my hands under her buttocks, I strained her to me and pumped like a 
flesh-and-blood piston. She matched my every thrust and we writhed in wild 
abandon. Her ravishing breasts were heaving, her head jerking from side to 
side. Hoarse moans of passion alternated with her gasps for breath. And 
those inner muscles of her pussy! Brother, they were setting me wild! 

"Faster, Wade, honey!" she cried. "Do it harder! I'm just about to . . ." 

Her arms spread and she pounded my back. My lips smothered her right nipple, 
then the left, my tongue stabbing and drawing. Then my teeth closed gently 
and she shivered and stiffened. 

"Jesus, boy!" she cried. "You're so good. I've got to have you always! Screw 
me, honey! Do it hard!" 

In seconds I felt a stirring in my balls, and my cock throbbed. I knew the 
ecstatic moment was imminent. 

"Now, honey, now!" Peacha gasped. "Faster, faster, lover! Love me, Wade!" 

I got my cookies off like a fire hose and Peacha came with me. Her pretty 
white teeth were fastened over my right nipple, bringing the blood. She 
shivered, sighed and relaxed. After a long moment, she kissed me gently and 
fondled my balls. 

"Wade, Wade," she murmured, "I just got to have you for keeps." 

Well, I wasn't quite ready to get married, not with all the luscious pussy 
crowding around to be had just for the asking. But I could see that Peacha 
was getting serious. 

"Honey," I told her, "you know that marriage is a serious business. You 
can't just rush into it." 

She pulled away from me and started getting into her clothes. "What we've 
been doing is serious, too, Wade. It's wonderful, I know, but if Dad ever 
finds out, he'll murder me and maybe you, too." 

"No, he won't, Peacha. The old guy is probably getting a little fresh nooky, 
himself, when the home front gets stale." I patted her shoulder. "So don't 
fret. We'll fix everything when the time comes." 

Even now, years later, I remembered how thrilling Peacha's sex was. I shook 
the memory and guided my small car toward the Atlas Telephone and Telegraph 
Building. 

This building, at the corner of Seventh and Cross, had grown from a hole in 
the wall to a modern structure of twenty stories. I worked on the fifth. I 
left my car in the dungeon near the office building, dodged oil smears and 
grease spots as I climbed the ribbed incline to face the sleepy-eyed 
attendant. The man's nicotine stained fingers put down his smoke to stamp 
the claim check. 

"Another hot one, Mister Excell." "Wait till July and August, fellow." 
"Can't hardly wait," he said, mopping his face. "This hole ain't air 
conditioned." 

Floyd Dryver met me at the elevator door and we stepped through it together. 
Floyd pushed the button and I heard the whine as the cage shot upward. 

"Been waiting for you, Wade. What kept you?" 

"Two cups of coffee and a little private biz." 

"Yeah," Floyd grinned, "like a struggle in bed? Dad, I see you're pretty 
well pooped. Let an old bach help you off." 

I glanced at my friend. Floyd Dryver looked like an oversized jockey. His 
protruding front teeth had been neglected in his youth. Folks called him 
Squirrel, but I thought the tag didn't fit him. His hair was straw colored 
and his eyes were blue. Those who called him Squirrel did so at their peril. 
The man always cracked back at them, lighting up some freak thing in their 
own appearance. I grinned, just thinking about it. Floyd did this with a 
smile and a slap on the back, soothing any ruffled feelings and making the 
wisecracker feel more foolish. And, further, no squirrel was ever an 
electronic engineer like Floyd. When things got rugged, the top brass called 
him in to work out the maze. He had only one weak spot: he wore lifts on his 
heels. 

We stepped into the unnatural coolness of the front office. We were the only 
ones coming so early. 

"Zero in here, already," I grumbled. "Yeah, too cold, like western Oklahoma 
in January." Floyd shivered. "Freeze your balls off." 

"Don't make me think of my ancestors, Floyd. You mean their balls or the 
cold weather?" 

"Both, like when we went to Sharon High and sat together." 

"Yeah, and old Baldy Robinson." 

"Brother!" Floyd exclaimed. "I can still see the old prof. His old pecker 
dribbled all day and wet his pants in front." 

I had to smile. "And the stick he used to poke us in the ribs with when we 
were cutting up." 

Floyd's eyes twinkled. "And the fat gal who sat just in front of us. She 
smelled like a fish market." 

"And you, Floyd Dryver, you always got A's and B's in math. Me? What was my 
best subject?" 

Floyd stroked his chin. "That's easy, Dad. Pussy! You could spot it a mile 
off." 

"And you," I retorted, " if you ever got a lay, I had to line it up for 
you." 

"Okay, okay!" Floyd lifted his arms. "But let's hike on to our swivel chairs 
before the coffee breakers invade us." 

"You mean our employees?" 

"Who else, Mister Excell. Our conscientious employees, reporting for work at 
the last possible moment in order to slip out five minutes ahead of time." 

"You mean the ones demanding the greatest possible remuneration for the 
least possible effort?" 

Floyd snapped his fingers. "You win the Lynch carrier, my friend. Now let's 
you and your conscience be up and at 'em." 

"My conscience?" I smiled. "Guess you're right, Floyd. Only you and Wade 
Excell's memories really know him." 

My memories! In my car that afternoon, my mind went back again and I 
couldn't suppress a thrill. I drove like an automaton, sandwiched in between 
cars that sometimes slowed to a creep . . . 

In another town in another car during another summer in another secluded 
spot. Thelma held my head in her lap. The same treacherous moon shone down 
and a wayward wind caressed our flushed cheeks. This time I'd brought a nice 
clean blanket for you know what. Inside a car was a bit cramped for what I 
had in mind. Thelma's features were partly hidden, but the moonlight was 
bright enough to show me her oval face, the heavy dark brows above her black 
eyes and the luscious, kissable lips. Normally, her voice was husky, but the 
ecstasy of our sex act sometimes lifted it to a high moan that would set my 
nerves tingling. 

I spread the blanket on the soft, fragrant grass and peered about. Not a 
soul in sight. Thelma reached up and kissed me passionately and lingeringly. 
We'd shed our clothes, but the night was warm and balmy. Looking at her 
naked body, I caught my breath. Here was a real female. Her soft arms 
reached up and hugged my neck. 

Abruptly, I felt stiff and tense all over, especially my old monster. 
Thelma's full, sensuous lips pressed hard and hot against mine. Brother, 
they almost burned, sending shock waves all the way down to my balls. My 
need was almost agonizing. I wanted to screw this alluring female more than 
I'd ever wanted to screw any other. 

"Stand up a minute, Thelma," I begged. "Let me give my eyes a treat." 

She did, and I feasted my gaze upon her exquisite figure: tall, about 
five-eight, proportioned much like pictures I'd seen of the fabulous Mae 
West. Skin white as freshly fallen snow, but certainly not cold. Thick hair, 
black as a crow's wing. Her boobs were twin hills of flawless loveliness, 
seeming to be inviting my caresses. Her nipples were buttons of dark red, 
making me think of tasty sweet cherries, begging my lips and tongue to tease 
them. 

Thelma flashed me a saucy smile and placed her dainty hands under her 
titties, cupped them and lifted them alluringly. I blinked, but I could 
still see plenty. 

"Listen, girl," I gasped, "what are you up to? You want me to give our 
blanket a paste job?" 

"No, Wade, no!" she cried. "If you don't get that big thing in all the way, 
I'm going to twist your balls. Nothing will satisfy me till I feel those 
thrilling hot spurts where they belong!" She hesitated for a moment, then, 
"I'm never going to let you get away, even if I have to have a shotgun 
wedding." 

Whew! That nearly floored me, but I didn't tell her that right now wedding 
bells were the furthest thing from my thoughts. I just grabbed her and laid 
her on her back on the blanket. I spidered her flawless boobs, her dazzling 
thighs, and murmured tender love words into her cute little ear. Her body 
suddenly relaxed and I fell between those sublime thighs, my whacker hunting 
her clit. I felt the head touch it and she moaned and writhed. In a fit of 
passion, she grabbed it and rubbed it against the lips of her pinkish pussy. 
I seemed to be climbing the golden ladder as she thrust her pelvis against 
my old monster, and it buried itself in her dark den. 

"Screw me, Wade!" she begged. "Oh, lover, do it hard! I've been wild for you 
for ages! I've had other boys, but I always tried to imagine it was you 
fucking me!" 

Well, this nearly bowled me over, but I didn't let it stop me. I said 
nothing, and we started writhing all over the blanket, picking at each 
other, tonguing and nipping. She locked her flawless legs around my back and 
began a humping, writhing movement that I feared would make me come before I 
was ready. We clung together, our nude bodies bathed in perspiration. Then 
Thelma began to shudder, and I realized her moment was very close. 

"Wade, Wade, honey," she moaned. "I don't have to imagine things now! This 
is for real! It's you, really you! It's almost here! Come with me, honey! 
I'm dying!" 

But she didn't die, and we came together. I kept my cock in place for a 
minute or two, enjoying the palpitations of her voluptuous pussy. When I 
pulled out she tried to prevent it. A little later I got her on top of me 
and spidered her boobs. She writhed and whimpered, gasping for breath. I 
turned her over on her back and spanked her luscious nipples with my tongue. 
She was breathing fast and deep. 

"Wade, honey," she murmured, "I've got to have you again! "Don't tease me! I 
just can't realize it's you, really you! Let me have that big thing again! 
Oh, Wade, I'm crazy for you!" 

Was this something! Another gal wild for me and wanting to get married. I 
shifted Thelma atop of me again, and let her lower her alluring pussy onto 
my erect throbbing whacker. My hands held her enticing buttocks and urged 
them into motion. 

I braced myself for the moment of release. I knew it was very close. I 
thrust my pelvis up, up and up. Now I was nearly blind from the dazzling, 
overpowering sensations. Thelma was perched high on my pelvis. Her eyes were 
closed, her face set and pale. Then the rockets of desire ignited, exploded 
and the multi-colored sparks fell in an enchanting shower. 

"Please don't move, Wade, don't move!" she begged. 

So I stayed put till I felt her quivering body go limp and my spent cock 
slowly slip from her pussy. She made a final effort to hold it with those 
inner muscles, but I realized the performance was over. She sighed and 
kissed me tenderly, and rubbed her velvet soft cheek against mine. 

"Wade, honey," she murmured, "we've got to do this often. I love you, and 
I'm going to marry you." 

Just a damn minute, gal, I thought. I got a lot of screwing to do before my 
old monster will stop growling. 

I just patted her flawless ass and kept my big mouth shut. 

Chapter Two 

Vic Miles always proudly announced that his name was Victor Miles of the 
Miles family, and that his old man had so named him to insure his son's 
success in everything he undertook. That was the Miles' way, and that way 
had been a success. Vic's father was head of The Atlas Communications 
Company and was favored by the local police department. He'd squared away 
many of their personal calls. 

Vic sported a soft beard, wearing it as an affectation. His cigarette clung 
to his lower lip. He wore his dark hair long in the prevailing style. His 
mother probably would have given him a middle name, but she didn't survive 
getting him. His father had told him it was a tough tussle. Anyway, Vic was 
a sophomore at the state university, not straining his brain for a B.S. 
degree. His pals all agreed that those letters meant "Barely Sober." But his 
presence at the university gave him a chance to cultivate Lissa Excell, and 
that, he thought, was something. 

Tonight, he felt, was hotter than a sunburned bald head. Virtually the only 
cool spot outside the movie iceboxes was inside Sylvandale Drugs, about 
three blocks from where Lissa lived. He had a mind to flash over there a 
little later, but he expected the temperature inside the Excell home might 
be rather frigid for Victor Miles. Something, he sensed, was in the air. He 
had a sneaking suspicion he'd better make himself scarce around there till a 
thaw set in. 

The town hotshots, Gary Johler, Dudley Jones and he were seated in a booth 
just across from the prescription counter. They were downing their favorite 
beverage, 7-Up, fortified with a dash of gin. Old man Lemmon, Hal to them, 
was a swinger. If the studs wanted a little help when their spirits were 
low, he would wink and look the other way. He was a bald somebody with 
shifty blue eyes and a stomach he couldn't see over. 

"Observe," Gary Johler said, ogling a sizzling redhead oozing in the front 
door. She was wearing a stretch suit of bright green. And it was doing 
plenty for her and to the boys. 

"Mother!" Dudley Jones exclaimed. "How'd you like to-" 

"Yeah," Vic stared at her. He didn't know her. 

"Stranger in town," Gary said. 

"Makes me think of your Lissa," Dudley remarked. 

Dudley was a tall boy with big feet, always stumbling over things. He ate 
like a rhino but never got fat. And did he know girls! 

Gary asked, "When are you going to stick your head in the noose, Vic?" 

Gary was fat from downing too many Cokes and candy bars. His hair was 
beginning to desert him above his high forehead. He'd be bald at thirty and 
impotent, too, if he kept trying to screw every girl in town. 

Vic took a long swig from his spiked drink. "What noose?" he asked. "You and 
Lissa Excell." 

"Yeah," Dudley added, "everybody says you and she-" 

Vic laughed. "I've already made her. Why stick my neck out?" 

Gary smacked his lips. "Man!" 

Dudley looked around, trying to spot the strange girl. 

"I'll settle for that redhead," he said. "Is she ever something! Mother! If 
I could make that just once, I'd be content to roll over and die!" 

Vic felt something in the air, but he didn't know what. He looked around. 
And there in the booth behind them was Lissa's father. Had he been 
listening? His face was lit up like a mercury arc. Vic winked at Gary and 
Dudley. They clammed up. Lissa's father was vibrating. That's what he gets 
for eavesdropping, Vic thought. Impolite, too. 

"Scat!" he whispered to his pals. They drifted up front, checking on the 
redhead. 

Vic got up, stretched and yawned, as though he hadn't seen Lissa's father. 
Wade nailed him with a hard look. 

"Oh, hello, Dad!" 

"Don't call me Dad," Wade snapped. "Sit down." 

Vic oozed down across from him, looking a circle around his flushed face. 

"Relax, Pop. Dad is what I dig all the old boys. "I overheard you." "Yeah?" 

"You've been lying to Lissa." "Come again?" Vic cupped his ear mockingly. 
"You heard me." 

"You're swinging, man," Vic scoffed. "You're still lying." "Watch it, Dad. 
You've called me a liar twice now." 

"Aren't you?" Wade demanded. 

Vic leaned forward, giving Wade the wink. "Relax, man," he said. "It's all a 
front. My pals, see? They figure any guy getting married is a clod." 

"Then you really intend-" 

"Sure, Dad." Vic nodded. "Just as soon as Lissa and I finish school." 

Wade sighed and looked away. Dare he believe this boy? He'd like to. His 
nerves began to calm a little. 

"Promise me you and Lissa will not-" 

Vic lifted his right hand. "Sure, Dad. From now on the late, late show is 
off," he said, smoothly. 

"We'll tread holy water till the preacher does his stuff." 

Wade hesitated, looking at Vic. "You mean that?" 

"Sure, Pop, I'm no fly-boy." 

"All right," Wade said. "Prove it from now on." 

When Wade went out of the store he was not treading air, though he wanted to 
believe Vic. He was still boiling inside, but just a little glad, too. 

Vic smiled to himself. The old boy's not strong for me, he thought. And he 
still thinks Lissa and I have been up to tricks. The sap! He's almost sold. 
He's mad, plenty, but he's glad to get his little chick off the hook so 
easily. 

Vic's pals had finished checking out the redhead. They were licking their 
lips and breathing fast. 

Gary said, "Chewed out, huh? Lissa's pater?" 

"Yeah." Vic shrugged. "He's a square from Squaresville." 

"The jerk," Dudley said. "Them broken down studs can't swing me." 

They drifted out of the store and eased into Vic's car. 

"I'm for Poodletown," Vic told the boys. 

"Mother!" Gary exclaimed. 

In a minute they were on their way across town to the west side. Folks 
called the district Poodletown, but it had nothing to do with pooches. The 
boys got there in a jiffy, slowing down when they hit the graveled streets 
of the section. The air felt heavy. It was filled with dust, refusing to 
settle. Vic pulled up in front of a long squatty house, being careful to 
soft pedal. 

"Hey, stupid!" Gary exclaimed. "Don't park in front of the joint." 

Vic knew he was right, so he went to the end of the block and eased back on 
the opposite side of the street. He saw a dim light coming from a front 
window of the house, but the shades were drawn. His heart began pounding. 
Something new? He thought of Lissa, then shrugged. The hell with it! He'd be 
believing what he told her old man in a minute. 

Dudley knew the place. Shortly, they were going around the house and 
entering the rear door, hidden by a grape arbor and an elm tree with 
branches almost touching the ground. Vic heard a faint sound of voices 
coming from the front, and a worn out player piano making tinny music. 

A woman came through the door just ahead of them. She closed it carefully, 
giving them the sharp eye. Dudley stepped forward and embraced her. She was 
wearing some cheap perfume. She suffered his fondling, making no protest 
when he fumbled at her bosom. 

"Hi, Dad," she said. "Who's your friend with the hair?" 

Dudley looked at Vic, and Vic said, "Smith." 

She laughed coarsely. "I'm Eva. Good old Smith! We've had scads of 'em. And 
the other one?" 

"Jones," Gary muttered. 

"Jones and Smith! It's a small world. But let's get going." Her eyes 
hardened. "Come on up front. 

It's quiet tonight." 

She opened the door. They went into a large room, heavy with cigarette 
smoke, its smell almost covering the fragrance of a bouquet of red roses on 
top of the marred piano. A dark-eyed, dark-haired woman got up to greet 
them. She had large breasts, partially concealed by a loose, low-necked 
dress. 

"I'm Evelyn," she said. "Which one of you boys wants me?" 

Eva stepped forward. Vic watched her. She was a heavy set woman, with a hint 
of gray in her thick hair that tinting had only partly concealed. 

"Only two girls working tonight," she said. "One of us will double. Who's 
first?" 

"I'll take Evelyn," Vic said, and she faked a smile. 

"I'll screw Eva," Dudley said. Gary scowled. "I'll have to wait for 
seconds," he muttered. 

Vic followed Evelyn into a room off the hall. 

"This is one of our trick parlors," she said. 

Parlor? Vic wondered. He saw a small red light in one corner. The bed was an 
old iron one, covered with a gaudy, flowered spread. The floor was hidden 
with a rug, snarled threads showing. It had long since lost its coloring. 

Evelyn slipped out of her loose wrap and kicked off her pink satin slippers. 
She posed before Vic, just in her hose. He thought she was somewhat older 
than he, but her figure was still alluring. Her waist receded sharply to 
flare out again in wholly feminine hips. Her enticing breasts were firm and 
shapely, the nipples slightly red. 

At any rate, Vic's small cock started throbbing and jerked erect. He licked 
his lips and his eyes glittered. 

"Hey, boy!" Evelyn kidded, staring at his prick. "Where's the rest of it? 
Your old man must have pulled out before he got the job done." 

"Don't worry," Vic snapped. "Just get your ass down there on the bed and 
I'll give you the best fuck you ever had." 

"Okay, boy. Now you're talking. I haven't had a good screw tonight. I'm 
rearing to get my jollies. But first," she twiddled her fingers, "a little 
gift? If you make me like it, I won't-" 

"Never mind," Vic growled, handing her a greenback. "This stud's not on 
welfare." 

"Good. Now you smart kid, let Mamma show you what a real fuck is. If I can 
make that grubworm hold up!" 

In moments they were nude, lying side by side. Vic was surprised at the 
fragrance of her body. He wondered why she was staying in such a dump. She 
definitely rated better. Her arms went around his neck and her lips melted 
into his. Her breath was sweet. Her crotch nudged his, and Vic's pecker 
almost went into convulsions. She took one of his hands and placed it on her 
flawless left boob. 

"Now, boy, you play baby on my other one," she ordered, "and I'll do the 
same for you." 

He obeyed, and she put her right arm around his hips and her left hand found 
his wildly jerking whacker. Her tongue started spanking his in savage 
thrusts, making his balls twitch. 

"Love me, boy," she whimpered. "I was only razzing you. I don't need a 
jackass cock to make me get my jollies. Give it to me hard and fast, right 
on my clit." 

Vic found her clit easy to locate. It was about an inch long and showed 
through the curly dark hair that covered her pussy. His nerves were jumping, 
his muscles contracting, and he wondered if he could hold off till he got 
his joy prong into her. He'd sure try. 

Abruptly, she squirmed beneath him. He could never remember just how, he was 
so excited and horny. Evelyn's nude body was writhing and pushing up against 
him. She pulled him down savagely, and he felt the head of his whacker 
nudging the thick hair over her pussy. 

"Give it to me, boy," she begged. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was only 
kidding. For God's sake don't tease me!" 

"Hell's fire, woman, I'm not trying to tease you. I'm just trying to locate 
your cunt." 

For a long moment he poked around, then he felt the hot searching lips of 
her pussy clutch his pecker, and did they ever pull on it. He felt it 
gliding in to its full length. Breathtaking, chilly thrills raced from his 
ass to his Adam's apple. She pumped her hips furiously, her teeth biting his 
left nipple. 

"That's it, baby," she whimpered. "Screw me, boy. Do it hard and fast. Don't 
be mad at me. I want to come, too." 

But he came too quickly for her. She held him tightly and refused to let him 
pull out. Her strong arms were straining him to her, and her twisting hips 
and bucking pelvis were doing their utmost to revive his cock. 

Vic was too young and horny to stand much of this. His balls began to twitch 
and tingle, and he felt his whacker start to jerk and stiffen. Evelyn 
clasped her hot hands on his ass and strained him to her. 

"Marvelous, boy, marvelous!" she moaned. "It's coming up. Don't move. I'll 
get it ready." 

And she did, Vic realized, with her inner muscles clutching about his cock. 

"Now, boy, make me come so hard I'll pass out!" 

He started rocking and pumping, thrusting as savagely as he could. Suddenly, 
she started swearing like a disappointed pimp and beating the mattress with 
her fists. Hell, Vic thought, surely I'm not hurting her with my whacker! 
I've never heard a chick cuss like that when she's about to get her cookies. 

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked. 

"Christ, no, boy! It's so wonderful I just have to yell! Don't stop!" 

Shocked, Vic listened to her savage swearing. Somehow, it urged him to 
greater efforts. Like an animal, he pounded her alluring form, enjoying her 
pulsing joyspot's inner muscles. 

Suddenly, she locked her strong legs around his buttocks and bit his neck in 
a furious attack. "Now, now, boy, do it! I'm coming!" 

To Vic, the room seemed to rock and sway, and his brain went dark for a 
moment. Then skyrockets whizzed, soared and burst. They created a shower of 
gaily colored sparks, floating slowly to earth. He felt his pecker jerking 
and spurting, and Evelyn's box going creamy with his fluid. 

She started dabbing quick kisses over his face and chest, then nibbling on 
his tits and straining him to her. Her enticing thighs caressed his. 

"Oh, man," she sighed, "and I mean man, you're the most. Forgive me for the 
crack I made about your prick. You know how to use it. I've never had a 
better screw." 

When they went back to the front room, they found Dudley and Eva waiting 
with Gary. Eva lost no time. 

"You want me or Evelyn?" she asked him. Gary hesitated, looking from one to 
the other. "All right, kid," Eva prodded him. His lips skinned back as 
though he'd tasted something sour. "I think I'll just skip the play for 
tonight," he muttered. 

Eva's eyes shot fire. She faced Gary. "Listen, you punk kid," she snapped. 
"You want to play first base or you won't play, is that it?" 

Gary shrugged and said to Vic, "Let's get out of here." 

Eva grabbed his shoulder. "Go see a head shrinker, kid. You think your pal 
was first tonight?" 

They got out of there fast. Vic's fortified 7-Up was starting to dump him. 
The sky looked clear and blue where the street dust wasn't hanging too 
thick. Vic wondered if Lissa's father had ever been in a spot like this? 
Sure! The old studs weren't opening their big mouths, but you could bet 
they'd been there. 

Gary shook his head. "I'd like to see how far you'd get if you went in there 
without some skins," he muttered. 

"Out on your ear, stupid," Dudley told him. 

Vic smirked. "Yeah, in a big way, still, my date was something else. She 
even offered to return my money. I don't think she's been fucking for pay 
too long." 

"Bet she gave you the old oil so you'd come back," Gary said. "They probably 
got a stud in the back room to check on 'em. He's about six-foot-six, weighs 
two-fifty, and he's not choosy. He'll fuck 'em both before they close up for 
the night." 

"I'm not so sure about that," Vic said, shrugging. "Anyway, Evelyn treated 
me swell." 

He put the car in gear. It kicked gravel as he pulled away from the curb. 
Could it be that Gary was right? Had Evelyn only been pulling his leg? Had 
all her moanings and groanings been faked? Oh, hell, what difference did it 
make? But Evelyn was a thrilling piece of ass. 

Chapter Three 

Nell met me at the door late next afternoon. Her lips didn't move, but her 
eyes told me that something was up. 

"I've been thinking all day, Nell," I said. 

"What will you do?" 

"I didn't tell you, did I?" 

She blinked. "Tell me what?" 

"About my talk with Vic." 

"I suppose he denied everything?" 

"Not exactly." I shrugged. "He just said Lissa and he got 'carried away.' " 

"Meaning sex, of course?" 

"What else, Nell?" 

"What will you do?" 

"I'm going to see his father." 

"Be careful, Wade, and don't get mad." 

I took a deep breath. "You talk to Lissa?" 

"Why me, Wade?" 

"It's woman talk," I said. 

"And man talk between you and Elza Miles?" 

"Yes, we can talk plain." 

"Can he control Vic?" 

"'I doubt it, but- Where's Lissa now?" 

"She went swimming with Vic to Willow Springs. They left early, should be 
back most any time." 

"That does it!" I exclaimed. "Swimming in a bikini. They'll be screwing 
before they get home." 

Nell sighed, looked away. "Vic acted queer today." 

"And Lissa?" 

"Chewing her lip," Nell said. "Vic and she had their heads together, almost 
whispering. What do you think?" 

"I don't know, Nell," I said, frowning. "But set me out a bite. I've got to 
hurry back to the office." "Tonight?" 

"Sure," I said, wearily. "Elza works late, maybe that's why he's the boss." 

"And the fact that he's a big stockholder in Atlas." 

So Lissa was biting her lip? I thought. Somebody must have talked out of 
turn. Had Vic told her about my heated words in the booth? 

The squeal of tires on the street in front of the house broke into my 
thoughts. A headlight flashed through the window, hurting my eyes. I heard a 
car door slam, and a moment later, the slap of tennis shoes in the hall. 

"They're home," Nell said, coming up behind me. 

"Lissa is, yes, but look at those headlights jerking around into the 
street!" 

"Heavens!" Nell gasped. "He'll kill himself, or somebody else." 

I turned my head. Lissa stood there, her green eyes flashing, a bit 
bloodshot from being in the water. Her lips were tight. 

"You went for him, Dad. You hate my boy friends. Why?" 

Nell walked to her, taking her beach bag and towel. "Lissa, no." 

Lissa stamped her foot. "I don't care. Dad has no right to abuse Vic. And 
how do you think I feel?" 

Nell put her hands on Lissa's shoulders. "Your father is only trying to 
protect you, dear." 

Lissa flung herself on the couch and buried her head in her arms. "You treat 
me like a child," she sobbed, then sat up. 

"Dad, can't you realize I'm grown up?" Her face was a mask of anger. "I can 
handle myself. Mamma has told me how you chew your nails all the time, 
fearing I'll grow up, doing the things you did." 

My nerves jumped. I faced my wife. 

"Nell, you didn't!" 

Lissa's voice crackled, "Sure she did! Why not? I'm glad she told me. The 
only thing you're hot about is protecting your own image. But what about 
mine?" 

"I love you, Lissa." 

Her eyes glittered. "Of course you do. You have to. I'm your own flesh and 
blood. It follows. I'm not warped." 

"Here, you two!" Nell came between us. "Let's cool off before somebody says 
something they'll be sorry for." 

I was beginning to lose my temper. I faced my wife. 

"You keep out of this, Nell. I've heard about enough out of Lissa." 

Nell stepped back, her eyes clouding. Then she started sobbing and hurried 
up the stairs. 

Lissa's face reddened. "Now you've hurt Mamma's feelings, too. Let's face 
it, Dad. Vic and I are crazy for each other. Okay, so we're having sex. Who 
isn't? I know you and Mamma are, plenty. Oh, I hear all those moanings and 
mushy talk when I come upstairs to the bathroom at night." She gave me a 
long hard look. "Anyway, Vic and I are planning to get married." 

"Plans don't always work out, Lissa." 

"Relax, Dad. You might as well," her words shot out. "Vic and I are going to 
keep loving each other, no matter what!" 

"Unless I put a stop to it." 

"Oh, no!" She shook her head stiffly. "If we have to, we'll meet on the QT, 
and you or anybody else can't stop us." 

Turning away, she raced up the stairs. I heard her bedroom door slam. 

I went to the foot of the stairs and called to Nell. No answer. She was fed 
up and peeved at me, and that meant no more jollies in bed till she snapped 
out of it. All right. I had to have my nooky, even if I was a hypocrite in 
trying to make Lissa lay off sex with Vic. Let Nell sulk if she must. 

There was Fawn Tirawa, a steno in our office. She had some Indian blood, and 
I'd heard she was descended from an Indian father and a white mother. 
Anyway, she was a hot number. She'd been rotating her ass at me and showing 
her titties for some time. I knew all I had to do was to say the word. And I 
said it the next day on our coffee break. 

"Wifie holding out on you?" she'd kidded. "No problem. I've been watching 
that wad in front of your pants for a long time." 

"You don't have to watch it through my pants, baby," I'd told her. 

I was hot under the collar, but a bit horny too, thinking of Fawn. She was a 
tall, slender gal, with titties that fairly squealed behind her tight bra 
when she wore one. And she smelled good and sexy. Her perfume always seemed 
to say "Howdy!" to my cock. The old monster would start bowing and scraping 
when I'd smell the enticing stuff. Fawn had big soft eyes, black as 
midnight, with large whites that lighted up when she flicked them in my 
direction. She sometimes wore a black beehive wig that made her seem taller 
and more attractive. 

I knew she had an apartment on the east side of town. I was walking, taking 
it easy, giving me time to calm down before I got to her place. The air was 
warm, the sky a deep dark, and a full moon was just peeping over the 
treetops. Not an astronaut in sight. It certainly was romantic, but I didn't 
need that. I had a terrific hard-on, and I wanted to get even with Nell for 
giving me the standoff. 

It was easy to find Fawn. Her address was listed on our office bulletin 
board. Her parents lived up the line about a hundred miles. But could she 
really afford an apartment unless she was screwing for pay? That idea almost 
wilted my old monster. 

Her apartment was on the ground floor of an old brick building. I smelled 
meat cooking. But I wasn't hungry, not my belly, anyway. Her door was open 
and I walked up the worn steps, watching her get up to meet me. 

"I just knew it, Mister Excell," she said, smiling. "I knew you'd come 
sooner or later. I just felt it you know where." 

"Hello, Fawn," I greeted her. "Getting warm tonight." 

She chuckled and tugged at her pink slacks. "It's more than warm," she said. 
"It's hot, if you get me." 

I grinned. "I couldn't miss, honey. Mine is hot, too. I suggest we do 
something about all this heat." 

"Sure, why not, Wade, if you don't mind my calling you by your first name." 

"I don't mind, baby, not at all. Call me anything you like, just so we get 
this heat wave cooled off." 

"Come here, big man, let's get started." 

I did, and after bolting the door, she put her arms about my neck and hugged 
me till I fought for breath. But fucking for pay? Shame on me for such a 
thought. She was no chippy. She was fresh and sweet, clean as a church song. 

I kissed her furiously, twin pulses hammering in my temples. My legs felt 
weak from desire. How we got undressed I'll never know, but we did quickly 
and rolled onto Fawn's comfortable bed. Our lips melted in another luscious, 
lingering kiss, and her long, brown fingers wrapped themselves around my old 
monster. She spidered my balls, and my trembling fingers clutched her firm, 
enticing ass. Her hand started working up and down the eight inches of my 
cock. 

"Jesus, man!" she muttered, "what a prick! It'll hurt like sin, won't it?" 

"Only for a second, baby, then you'll be humping for joy." 

I was about to give the bed a paste job. She sensed it and removed her hand. 

"Don't waste it, Wade!" she cried. "I want it, every drop. I want you to 
knock me up, get me a baby boy with blue eyes like yours. I don't want him 
to look one bit like an Indian." 

"You . . . mean . . . you . . ." 

"Yes, big man, I do. And I'll never tell who the daddy is. Please, Wade!" 

Brother, she wasn't fooling. She really wanted a kid off my vine. Well, why 
not? 

Now she was moaning and writhing, begging me to ram it in. My fingers 
spidered the sleek black curls, jealously hiding the ruby lips of her 
enticing pussy. 

"Wade, Wade," she murmured, "let's do it. I love you, Daddy. And don't lose 
a drop of your come." 

"Don't worry, baby," I said. "I've got oodles of it. I'll fill that cunt of 
yours to the brim." 

Her lips melted into mine, then she said, "I'll have it sewed up tight and 
not remove the stitches till baby's ready to pop out." 

I couldn't keep from chuckling. Man, this gal was really intent on grabbing 
a kid from my private stock. 

Quickly, she pressed my hard, stiff prong against her delectable pussy. For 
a long moment I didn't move, savoring the thrill of the touch. Then, 
furiously, she jerked her pelvis up, up, up, and yelped as my old monster 
started its trip down. Her pussy was tight as a glove two sizes too small. 
Damn! I couldn't help wondering if this wasn't her first screw, yet she 
talked like she knew the score. 

I strained her to me. I felt the hot lips of her pussy begin to clutch at my 
throbbing erection. My hand moved down to her superb buttocks, and I thrust 
my old monster in till I felt my balls kiss her ass. She gasped and flinched 
a bit, then her arms closed about my neck and her pretty white teeth nipped 
my throat. Her brown knees looked at the ceiling, then her trim thighs 
locked around my back. 

"Wade, Wade," she moaned, "it did hurt a little at first, but now it's 
wonderful. Oh . . . oh . .. it's thrilling me. I can't-" 

"Don't try, baby," I said, "don't try. Just work with me and let joy be 
unconfined." 

Her legs were quivering now and her pretty face was pale and set. She was 
biting her lower lip and moaning. Then she started squirming and jerking 
wildly as the moment loomed. And then together we enjoyed a breathtaking, 
thrilling orgasm. 

"Stay with me, Wade," she begged. "I mustn't lose a drop of your wonderful 
cream." 

Man alive, this little Indian gal really wanted a kid and had picked me for 
its daddy. But what would she do with it, if she got it? Probably just love 
it and fight to keep it if she had to. But she'd never get it from me. I was 
sure of that, because I'd had a vasectomy after Lissa was delivered by a 
Caesarean. I didn't want Nell to have to go through such butchering again. 
Doc Chase had assured me the operation wouldn't weaken my sexual powers, and 
brother, it hadn't! 

Now Fawn reached down and felt my whacker. Her breath quickened. "You're 
getting hard again, Wade," she murmured. "Please give me some more of that 
precious-" 

"Yeah, baby, I know." 

I found her left boob with my lips and tried to take it entirely into my 
mouth, but it was too big and firm. I spidered her other boob with my 
trembling fingers. She clutched my head and kissed me passionately. I knew 
she wasn't hurting now, and she was almost frantic with desire. She laved my 
mouth and cheeks, then thrust her sweet tongue into my mouth and spanked 
mine. Then she started a rocking motion and I matched her every movement. 

I asked myself, Wade, you old cheater, are all brown-skinned gals good? 
Don't be a fool, you fool! They're tops. 

Our rocking movement quickened, and my prong and seeds vibrated and heated 
till they seemed ready to catch on fire. After all, was Fawn really versed 
in the art of fucking? Maybe not, but the restive muscles, eight inches deep 
in her pussy, were setting me wild, clutching and manipulating the head of 
my old monster. 

A familiar sensation arose in my balls and flashed toward the end of my 
cock. It grew stronger and more thrilling till I feared I'd kick off into 
convulsions. But, happily, I felt my whacker start spurting my stuff into 
Fawn's den, and together we came. 

"Wade, honey," Fawn murmured, "I can feel that wonderful cream. Now pull out 
easy and let me save it all." 

Well, I was never one to argue with a freshly fucked female, so I obeyed her 
and relaxed like a well-screwed jackass and let Fawn do her stuff. 

With apologies to my wife, I have to admit that Fawn was the best piece of 
tail I'd ever had. 

Chapter Four 

Vic Miles flashed to his left off Kennedy Boulevard and brought his red 
convertible to a screeching stop in front of Sylvandale Drug. Entering, he 
waved to Hal Lemmon, who gave him the "O" sign with a fat thumb and stubby 
middle finger. 

"Seven-Up, Vic?" 

"Yeah, Hal, with. And make it snappy." "Yes, sir!" 

"Over here, Vic," Gary called from a booth near the middle of the row. 

Vic stretched his neck. He was in luck. Both of his pals were awaiting him. 
He sank down, putting his palm under his chin and smirking. 

"Now what?" Dudley asked. 

"Yeah!" Gary said. "Female trouble?" 

Vic didn't answer. He blew out his breath and looked up when Hal Lemmon 
placed a tall frosted glass before him on the scarred board. Hal winked one 
shifty blue eye and held out his hand. 

"Charge it, Doc?" 

"Sure, Vic. Anytime." 

Victor lifted the glass and downed half of it in one gulp. 

"Mother! I needed that," he said. 

He set the glass down and wiped his lips on the back of his hand, taking 
care not to muss his neatly trimmed beard. 

"Hits the spot, don't it?" Gary asked. 

"Don't know what we'd do without good old Hal," Dudley said. 

Vic looked around, stretching his neck to peer into adjacent booths. They 
were empty. 

"Hal's a help, all right," he said, "but am I broke!" 

"Old man getting stingy?" Gary asked. 

"Naw, it's not that." Vic studied his manicured nails. "He don't pay me any 
mind. It's that smart old stud, Lissa's father." 

Dudley laughed. "Smacked you down again, eh?" 

"Not again! Not Vic Miles! Once is a big slice." 

He drained the glass and put it down with a snap. Hal Lemmon came shuffling 
over and Vic held out his glass. Hal took it and started away. 

"Hey! How about us?" Gary said, indicating Dudley and himself. 

Hal's eyebrows lifted and he looked at Vic. 

"Sure, Hal. Put 'em all on my bill." 

"Yes, sir! Three malts comin' up." 

Dudley winked. "Foxy old stud, ain't he?" 

Vic pulled a straw from the jar and started chewing the end. "Yeah, like I 
said. Lissa's old man is getting too smart for his B.S. degree. I might have 
to twist his arm." 

"You're swinging!" Dudley said. "You'd queer yourself with Lissa." 

"Nuts to that." Vic shrugged. "I might turn her over to you guys one of 
these days." 

Gary grinned. "Dud and I will draw straws to see who gets her first." 

"Mother! But suppose she won't play?" Dudley asked. 

"No problem, pal," Vic shrugged. "Once these whistle chicks have a feather 
plucked the rest comes easy." 

"Yeah?" Gary licked his thick lips. "Give us the thrilling details, pal." 

"Okay, men, it went something like this." Vic blew out his breath and his 
eyes glittered. "Lissa and I," he said, "had sneaked into the Capitol Motel. 
You know, that swell joint about ten miles out Interstate Thirty? And we 
were both hotter than a high-powered short circuit. Lissa couldn't even wait 
till we got naked in bed. She jumped on me on a chair, straddled my knees, 
and jerked my fly open. She gave me a long, sizzling kiss as she reached 
down for my cock." 

"She have any trouble finding the little thing?" Gary said, grinning. 

"Never mind," Vic retorted. "It's plenty big when it gets hard." He 
shrugged. "Anyway, it started throbbing when I saw that Lissa wasn't wearing 
any panties. And that mat on her pussy looked just like the hair on her 
head, a dazzling, golden blonde. 

"She called me 'lover', kissing me again, like I was the last stud alive. 

"She jerked up against me, and I felt the head of my prong rub her clit. She 
jerked my pants out of the way. Her fingers groped around, started spidering 
my nuts. Then she lifted her hand and started a rocking movement that sent 
my whacker through that blooming hair and into her hot pussy. It wasn't long 
before we both got our cookies, but Lissa wanted more and fast." 

"And your worm couldn't even wiggle!" Dudley kidded. 

"Nuts to that!" Vic growled. "You don't have to lug a jackass cock around to 
thrill a whistle chick. I've got the word of a chippy for that." 

"Okay, pal, okay," Gary said, chuckling. "But get on with the fucking 
details." 

"All right, if you cut out the wisecracks," Vic muttered. "Anyway, Lissa got 
off my lap and started jerking off her clothes. I did, too, and in a couple 
of minutes we were naked as a plucked duck's ass and cuddled together on the 
bed. My whacker was up hard and stiff again, throbbing and jerking its head, 
looking at her pussy's golden crown. 

"And men, it was pretty slick, I'll admit, with that red head weaving around 
and the little slit showing a glossy drop. And my seeds? They were pulled up 
tight like little cannon balls, all set to shoot their load. I rooted down 
between Lissa's neat boobs. Brother, were they something! They smelled like 
roses, fresh from a flower bed. Her enticing legs were spread out wide. She 
lifted them and let my whacker rub against her hot, eager pussy. I messed 
around a bit, the head of my prick rubbing her clit. She squirmed and 
whimpered. Then it found the grasping ruby lips of her pussy, and she 
clutched my ass with her legs and my whacker pushed all the way in." 

"What did she say, Vic?" Gary joked. "Did she say if it was four inches 
shorter, you'd be a queen?" 

"Down, boy! My cock's long enough. Anyway," Vic growled, "I could feel my 
bag strike her pretty ass. And the velvet-like muscles of Lissa's pussy were 
grasping and twitching, almost setting me wild. My whole screwing setup 
seemed about to melt into a jerking, spurting come before Lissa was ready. 

"Brother, it was almost too good to live with. Lissa had never given me this 
inside muscle thing before, and I was about to pass out. You know, even me, 
I started moaning and groaning like the gals usually do. For a few seconds 
we rocked and pitched, then got our jollies together. And what a jolt! It 
was a crash of overpowering thrills and breathtaking tensions, stronger than 
you can imagine. I must have blacked out for a few seconds, or I couldn't 
have survived the exact moment we climbed the magic mountain." 

"Magic mountain?" Dudley said. 

"Sure, man, the hill you climb when the big moment smacks you. Anyway," Vic 
shrugged, "I finally got back to normal, and looked at Lissa. She seemed 
satisfied, like a well-fucked pussy cat. She kissed me tenderly. I felt a 
thrill flash down to my screwing equipment, but my prick was limber as the 
neck of a plucked pigeon. 

"Well, Lissa kept kissing me. Her lips felt hot and her tongue tasted sweet. 
Her soft fingers spidered my body all the way from my knees to my nipples. 
Was she craving another fuck so soon? I really hoped not, because I didn't 
think my prick would come alive, at least for a few minutes. But she kept 
tickling it under the head, and damned if it didn't start coming to life. It 
stood up, got hard and stiff as a petrified bone and my balls began to 
tingle and twitch. She saw that, but I told her we better hold off a minute 
or two. To keep her happy, though, I knelt down to lave her blooming little 
pussy. She spread her gorgeous legs and her dimpled knees looked at the 
ceiling. I rubbed my cheeks against her sleek thighs and felt them quiver. 
Then I pushed my mouth against the ruby lips of her pussy. 

"Well, I sucked it, not fretting about her sweet, overflowing cream. She had 
a very large clit for so neat a pussy. I got it between my lips and spanked 
it hard with my tongue. This made her squirm and push her pelvis hard 
against me. Her hips were twisting, and her pink-nailed fingers were clawing 
my hair. I held up for a second and she almost went wild. Then my tongue 
struck her clit again and I spanked it savagely. Damn, did she ever come. 

"But she didn't calm down for a minute or two, and I used the time to get my 
whacker hard and stiff again. So Lissa got on her knees and turned her back, 
and we played big stallion and little mare. The magic moment came pretty 
damn sudden this time, while she worked on my cock with those thrilling 
muscles inside her joy box. I helped her by spidering her titties and 
pressing kisses on the alluring flesh of her flower-like neck and shoulders. 

"After that," Vic yawned and stretched, "we felt like sleeping, and brother, 
we did, like a couple of telephone linemen after a hard night's work." 

Chapter Five 

When I drove by the drugstore I saw Vic's car parked outside. I knew it 
belonged to Vic, since there weren't any other high-class imported cars in 
the neighborhood. Was Vic in there, dodging the summer heat, or was he 
boasting to his friends about his conquests? Or was he actually planning to 
marry Lissa and telling his pals about it? I gritted my teeth. Threats would 
do no good, I knew, but the urge to hear Vic declare his intentions was 
overpowering, so I swerved the compact and pulled alongside the boy's auto. 
Then I saw him coming out with his two pals. When they saw me, Vic gave them 
the scat sign and they ducked into the store. 

"Hi, Dad," he called out, sauntering toward me. 

"Hello, Victor." 

I didn't get out of my car. I felt my stomach knotting. Here I was, about to 
raise hell with Vic for screwing Lissa, when I was screwing other females 
because Nell and I were on the outs. I knew damned well I was a hypocrite, 
but somehow that wasn't going to stop me. 

Vic pushed the heavy black hair from his forehead and rested his arms on the 
compact door. He was grinning. 

"You notice I called you Dad." 

"I did." 

"Well, Dad, I'm not just goofing off, considering how things are stacking 
up. I'll be calling you Dad for real one of these days." 

I sighed. "Then you really intend that Lissa and you-" 

"Sure, man." Vic nodded. "Little old Vic's not swinging. Lissa's the only 
one for him." 

"I wish I could believe that." 

"You can, Pop, you're hip." Vic snapped his fingers then slapped the side of 
the compact. 

"Say, Dad, you want to hook this heap to the rear of the Miles Special and 
let me tow you home?" 

I had to grin. "No, thanks, Vic. I'll make it." 

"See you, Dad," Vic said, saluting. "Don't let anybody warp you." 

He turned and went back into Sylvandale Drug. 

Was he stringing me and Lissa along? Was he lying as he usually did? 

When I entered our living room I saw Lissa bent over the tape recorder, 
checking her mistakes and seeking to improve her singing voice. Nell was 
sitting across the room under a cluster of lights. Was I still in the 
doghouse? I tiptoed into the hall, softly closing the door. Neither Lissa 
nor Nell greeted me. They must have been comparing notes, I thought. I 
stopped behind Lissa and feasted my ears on the dulcet tones coming from the 
machine. 

"Flat!" Lissa exclaimed, snapping the stop button. 

"Sounded wonderful to me, honey, but of course I don't know the fine 
points." 

She turned to face me, her green eyes cold. 

"Dad," she said sharply, "we've got a flock of sopranos at the university, 
and every one of their fathers thinks his daughter is tops." 

"Fathers are poor judges," Nell said, looking away from me. 

Gently, I touched Lissa's shoulder. 

"Please, Dad!" She wriggled away. "This bugs me. If I don't shake these flat 
notes, Miss Casselli will kill me." 

"Sorry, Lissa. They sound good to me." 

She frowned. "Oh, Dad! Let's don't be square." 

Turning away, I started up the stairs to the south bedroom. Square? Well, 
not exactly, but I supposed the kids all figured a man past thirty-five was 
an antique. But antique or no, I still enjoyed my nooky, and damned if I 
wasn't going to get it. I'd call up Floyd Dryver. He didn't talk much but he 
got around. He always had some choice pussy on tap. I guess that's why he 
never married. He was getting all the fun and no family grief. 

I heard a footfall on the stairs. Nell's face appeared. My door was open, 
but she refused to glance in my direction. She went into the bathroom and 
locked the door. I heard the tape recorder going again downstairs. Lissa was 
running the scales, her tones reaching the highest pitch. She struck a note 
that was little more than a whistle. 

"That one must have been high H," I muttered to myself. 

The bathroom door swung open and Nell came out. Slowly, she walked toward 
me, looking at me bleakly. Her even teeth showed white between her spread 
lips. Her robe, hanging loosely, gave me a glimpse of her alluring figure. 
My mouth went dry and I swallowed. 

"After all these years," I murmured, breathing faster. 

"What's that, Wade?" 

"Nothing." 

She stared at me. "Is that why you look so glum?" 

"For the same reason you are." 

She sat down in a straight-backed chair near the door and met my eyes. "You 
and Lissa, Wade. It mustn't go on." 

"Meaning what?" 

"Your needling each other, of course." 

"I didn't realize I was. I try to be nice to her in spite of what Vic and 
she are up to." 

Nell's eyes darkened. "She's getting more like you every day, Wade." 

I got mad at the dig. "What am I supposed to do, have my balls cut off?" 

"Don't be ridiculous." 

I got up and gazed at the green-painted wall. "Well, dear, I'm going to keep 
my sexual equipment and I'm going to use it. If you're determined to hold me 
off, I'll have to go pussy hunting, and I know damned well I'll bag some!" 

"Don't make me laugh! If you tried to screw anybody but me your prick would 
be so limber the poor gal would have to fold it to get it in." 

I didn't answer this wisecrack, but I thought plenty. If Nell only knew the 
score she'd probably have a hemorrhage and it wouldn't be red. 

The next evening I stopped before the door of Lissa's bedroom. I rapped 
gently. "Come in, Dad." 

"How'd you know it was me, honey?" "Easy. Mamma never knocks." I went up 
behind her, and bending over, kissed her cheek. 

She flinched. "Careful, Dad. You'll muss my hair." 

I sighed. Couldn't I even touch her, my own daughter? I gazed in 
astonishment at the array of bottles and cans spread out before her between 
the twin lamps at her elbow. lipstick, mascara, eyebrow pencils, hair spray, 
perfumes, several different kinds of cold cream, the works. 

"You really use all this stuff, Lissa?" 

Her green eyes flashed. "Of course, Dad. Some girls use twice as much." 

I whistled. "How can you make it all hang on?" 

"Dad, I told you." Her teeth showed. "Don't square it Dig me? Stop muddling 
around in the past." 

"Hey," Nell called from the doorway. 

Lissa snapped down the hair dryer and faced her mother. I backed away from 
the dresser. 

Frowning, Nell walked toward us. "Do I smell smoke in here, or is it 
brimstone?" 

An awkward silence hung over us. 

Nell face Lissa and me. "I'm not going to have this," she said angrily. 

"Have what, Nell?" 

"You know very well." 

Lissa stared at her. "Mother, whatever are you talking about?" 

"You two!" Nell glared at us. "You're father and daughter, remember? You're 
supposed to love each other." 

Lissa faked a smile. "Of course, Mother. We couldn't help that if we tried." 

Nell came between us. "Look in that mirror at your faces. What I see there 
certainly isn't love." 

I shrugged and lifted my hands. Then I turned away and trudged downstairs. I 
could hear Lissa sobbing and Nell trying to comfort her. Yes, I'd done the 
wrong thing again. Only in my late thirties and already considered an 
antique. Every time I tried to talk to my daughter things got fouled and 
we'd wind up in a tiff. 

I walked out the back door into the night. The moon was full and white but 
her face seemed to be frowning. She'd been violated by astronauts. Big red 
Mars in the southern sky appeared redder than usual, apparently leaning 
toward a declaration of war. A dog, far across town, was howling mournfully. 
A gust of wind struck the hickory tree beside me, and a bird's nest came 
tumbling down. I could see the broken egg shells. Another home destroyed. 

I felt, rather than saw, someone behind me. I turned quickly. "Wade?" "Yes, 
Nell?" 

She touched my arm. "You've got to stop it." "Stop what?" 

"You've got to let up on Lissa." "Can't I even talk to her?" I said, sourly. 
"Of course, but don't treat her like a child." I sighed. "Why not? She's 
hardly more than that." 

"Oh, yes she is. You've got to treat her like an adult." 

I shrank away from Nell. "It was only yesterday that I carried her to her 
little bed and-" 

"Don't live in yesterday. Today is today, modern and alert. Lissa will do 
all right. Just because she's swinging a little doesn't mean that-" 

"Oh, yes, it does. Vic Miles will drag her down into the gutter, and she'll 
end up by being a tramp, and-" 

"No, she won't! You think she'll be as wild as you were in your palmy days, 
but she's got more sense." 

A painful silence fell between us. The wind came in a gust again and a dead 
limb fell from the tree. I picked up the branch and threw it aside, then 
faced my wife. 

"But you and me?" I touched her hand. "No need for us to treat each other 
like strangers. Do you mind tonight if I-" 

"I'm not in the mood, Wade," she said bitterly. "Just forget about sex till 
we both feel better." 

Forget about sex? Fat chance, with my old monster sticking out eight inches, 
and nowhere to put it! Nell was sleeping downstairs on the couch and I was 
fighting the blues in our bed upstairs. I thought about running off a batch 
by hand, but that would be lonesome. I'd just have to call Floyd Dryver. As 
I said, he always kept some hot numbers listed in his little black book. 
Several times he'd asked me if I wanted a temporary change in my grazing 
grounds, but I'd told him no, not as long as Nell and I were enjoying our 
fucking. But now? She'd shut me out and my balls were aching for release. I 
didn't want to build up an old rusty load and dump it in some unsuspecting 
gal's pussy. 

"Sure, Wade," Floyd said, that evening, when I called him from a corner pay 
phone. "Let's see. It's ten after six. Sure, I can line up a couple of 
cuties for about nine tonight. That be okay?" 

"Right!" I said, feeling my whacker jump to attention. "Just say where." 

He hesitated for a moment. "Make it the Aloha Motor Lodge, you know, the one 
about ten miles north on Interstate Thirty? They've got big, soft 
mattresses. I know." 

"You dog," I told him. "Okay, Floyd, I'll be there about nine." 

And I was. And did I find out a couple of things about Floyd I'd never 
dreamed of! You can't ever tell about these bachelors. Without thinking, I'd 
called him a dog, but that handle fitted him to a T. He was a regular at the 
Aloha. He did pretty much as he pleased, with no beefs raised. I found him 
lounging in his car outside, waiting for me under a big neon light. 

"Gals inside Cabin Eight," he told me. "Figured I'd better meet you here, so 
you'd know where to go." 

"What's their names, son?" "Martha and Edna, a couple of lookers who haven't 
been fucking much lately." "Which one do I get?" 

"Which one?" He stared at me. "You'll screw 'em both, if that jackass cock 
of yours don't go limber. But it probably won't since you said you and Nell 
aren't-" 

"But I just got one whacker, Floyd." 

"Wake up, Wade," he scoffed, poking me with his index finger. "It's no fun 
just banging one. You got to have two or three in one session. Don't be a 
sap. You don't know what you're missing. You fuck one gal, she's got a 
certain way of doing it. Then you hop over on the other one. She's 
different, and she's raring to go from watching you, and she fucks you like 
a mink." Floyd smiled and licked his lips. "Get it, man? You got to try it 
tonight." 

"Okay, Floyd," I told him. "It's a deal, but first I'd like to watch your 
cock wilt after you screw the first one." I looked at him and grinned. "I'm 
pretty damn sure you're older than thirty-nine and I'm betting your old 
monster will go limber as the neck of a dead duck after-" 

Floyd laughed. "You mean I'll lose my hard after one big screw? Get this, 
Wade: never let a few years fool you. I can, and have, laid three cunts in a 
row without my pecker wilting, and it doesn't take me all night to shoot my 
cream, either." 

"I'm dying to watch that," I said, shrugging. "I think you're one big liar." 

"Yeah? Like to see me do it?" He tugged at my arm. "Follow the old master, 
boy, and get wised up." 

So we hurried into Cabin Eight in the east row and found the girls waiting 
impatiently. 

"What you guys been up to?" one of them grumbled. "Holding a board meeting?" 

"Shop talk, Martha," Floyd said, "about our favorite subject. Pussy." 

He made the introductions, and we started to get comfortable. This Martha 
was a swell dish, no fooling. Floyd didn't mention any surnames and I guess 
it was just as well. We weren't eager for names, just craving for a good 
screw. 

Martha was a brunette, with a milk-white skin. She looked sexy and 
desirable. Her dark eyes were sizing me up, and she was making it easy for 
me to peek at her titties if I wanted to. And, naturally, I wanted to. I've 
never seen a pair of boobs I hated to look at. She ran a little to the plump 
side, but Floyd said he liked them that way. He didn't crave to be bruised 
by riding a skinny pelvis. And I remember, when I was a horny kid, some old 
buzzard told me fat gals made funny fucking. 

Edna was just the opposite of Martha. She was a rather small female, with 
little hard mounds of boobs that looked like they'd enjoy being pinched. So 
I tried it. She clucked her tongue and shook her head, but her deep blue 
eyes were sparkling. Mousey type, eh? I was betting she'd scream like a cat 
with its tail under a rocker when she got her jollies. 

There was a bottle of rye on the table, and Floyd got the girls started 
guzzling it. I guess the gals had already been at it, but they weren't 
polluted so far. Old Al K. Hall had just given them a couple of boosts. The 
light in the room was ruby-red, and strong enough for me to get the message. 

We got into our birthday suits in a hurry. The gals started taking turns, 
playfully flicking Floyd's big cock, while he was fingering Martha's fat 
boobs with one hand and tickling Edna's neat titties with the other. 

"All right, you fucker," Floyd told me, "come on, get into the play." 

"First," I said, "I want to see what your old monster looks like after 
Martha and Edna get through with it." 

"Get him, kids," Floyd retorted, pointing to me. 

They made a dash, and before I realized it, they had me on the bed, 
spidering me from ass to Adam's apple. My pecker jerked up like a 
stiff-necked snake. Martha drew back and stared at it. 

"Edna," she cried, "look at this beautiful thing! I get first crack at it." 

"I'll match you," Edna bantered. "You can fuck Floyd while I take care of 
Wade." 

"No, you don't," Floyd growled, standing over us. "Wade won't believe I can 
screw you both without stopping. He wants to watch me do it. So lay off him 
for a few minutes." 

"I've changed my mind," I told him. 

"Okay, okay; you can have your pick after I've proved my point. Here, gals, 
get your asses ready. I want to show this boy a thing or two." 

Obediently, they turned over on their backs and I stood up. Floyd flopped on 
his back between them. Using both hands, he started to play with the gals' 
pussies. I watched his big cock start to pulse and rear its head. The damn 
thing was sizing up the situation, I noticed, and it wasn't discouraged. 
Brother, any woman should be satisfied after having that big tool pushed 
deeply into her box! Either that, or she'd be fretting about having her 
insides rearranged. 

In a few moments Edna and Martha had their eyes closed and were writhing 
with passion. Myself, I was in a bad way. My whacker was about to go into 
convulsions, and my balls were twitching and pulling up. Then Floyd grunted 
and rolled over onto Martha, lying on the far side of the bed. He didn't 
bite her boobs or kiss her; he just started inching that big tool into her 
pussy. She moaned at first, then yelped and pounded the bed when he made the 
final thrust. Edna was squirming and twisting from side to side and rubbing 
her clit. I knew it was hell for her to have to watch and wait. It was no 
picnic for me, either. Since Floyd was going to fuck them both, I felt I 
might have to run off a batch by hand. 

Edna opened her eyes and looked at me. And that look! I saw that Floyd had 
his nose buried between Martha's big boobs. Why not, son? Edna's dying for 
it. So I winked at her and she winked back. She raised her dimpled knees and 
spread her alluring thighs. Quickly, I crept between them. She moaned, 
kissed me long and passionately, and started squirming. 

"Hey, you fucker, what gives?" Floyd exclaimed, raising his head. "What you 
up to, Wade?" 

"Just helping you out a little," I told him. "I'm getting her ready for that 
jackass tool of yours." 

"Okay, okay," he growled. "I'll just shoot my wad twice with Martha, then 
screw Edna just to show you I can do it!" 

Edna pushed her titties up for me to kiss. I did, then spidered them as I 
mouthed her lips. But she pulled up and jerked my head back to her titties. 
"Kiss 'em, Wade, kiss 'em hard! It really sends me!" 

Maybe I was a bit rough, spanking her nipples with my tongue and drawing on 
them with my lips. I heard Floyd grunt and moan, and Martha crying out like 
a lost soul in purgatory. I knew they'd come, but Floyd wouldn't bother me. 
He'd promised to fuck Martha without stopping. 

I pulled hard on Edna's neat breasts, then started to nibble on them. She 
was panting and gasping, really getting a bang out of it. Hell's fire! 
Surely her lust wasn't all in her boobs! But when she began pulling me 
closer and thrusting her pelvis hard against me, I knew she was okay. She'd 
just been working up to a dilly of a fuck. 

Reaching down, she felt for my cock, but somehow missed it. I couldn't 
understand why, since it was poking out to its full eight inches. But I 
helped her, placing her soft fingers on the head. She grasped it firmly, 
then cupped her hand under my balls and jerked them up. 

"Careful, baby," I cautioned. "You're messing with a gusher. Let's don't 
waste it in thin air. I want my old monster tight inside your grasping 
pussy." 

She didn't answer, just moaned and closed her eyes, but kept her fingers 
around the head of my whacker. I was starting to hunch like a horny tomcat 
in spite of my efforts to stay put. She put her fingers all the way around 
my prick and guided it up against her pussy. I still held back a little. I 
didn't think she'd been screwed too many times, so I hated to jam eight 
inches of stiff cock all the way in one, hard thrust. But she started 
moaning and writhing, lifting her pelvis, up, up, up. 

Wade, I told myself, this baby's aching and begging for it. Give it to her, 
all of it. 

So I did in one king-sized thrust. She yelped and shuddered, but not for 
long. Then she started bucking, and I knew her pain had changed to pleasure. 
I glanced over at Floyd. The two-timer was lying on top of Martha, grinning 
at me. I knew he was putting his cock to soak, giving Martha a chance to get 
her breath. 

I looked down at Edna's flawless breasts. But they weren't flawless now. I'd 
left teeth marks on them. She'd probably raise hell with me later, but she'd 
begged for it, and she still wasn't satisfied! She pulled my head down 
between her boobs again, jerking her shoulders to rub my lips against them. 
So I chewed her nipples, hard this time and tasted blood. She cried out and 
thrust her pelvis against me convulsively. 

I glanced at Floyd. The old fart was humping again. Martha's eyes were 
closed, her face white, set. They were on their second descent. 

I grabbed Edna's hips and spread her knees with my elbows. She was meeting 
my every thrust, gasping and panting. I gave her the full treatment, chewing 
her nipples and pumping hard and deep. Suddenly, she started laughing 
hysterically. What the hell? Was she a sex maniac, or something? Was she 
going around the bend? 

I glanced at Floyd again. He winked and nodded, then muttered, "Cool it, 
Wade. She does that when she gets her cookies." 

So I stayed with her until I felt myself come and my cream spurting 
spasmodically into her thrilling pussy. When Edna felt it, she stopped 
laughing, moaned, shuddered and strained me to her, almost bucking me off. 

"Jesus, man!" she gasped, "you're marvelous! Where did you get that 
wonderful jock? Honey, we got to do this every day and twice on Sunday. I 
don't know you, big man, but I. . . love you." 

I looked at Floyd again. He was up on his knees, his big jock still standing 
out, long and hard as ever. He was grinning at me. 

"Get off her, Wade," he ordered. "I'll take her and show you I can go three 
fast times in a row, just like I said." 

"No, Floyd, no!" Edna begged. "I want Wade again! Please, Floyd!" 

"Oh, all right," he grumbled. "I'll pop Martha again. I got to prove my 
point to Wade." 

So he did, and after he climaxed, his huge pecker was still stiff. He looked 
at me and grinned. 

"Now you believe me, Wade?" 

"Sure, I believe you, but I know what you do. You gulp a big Spanish Fly 
every evening!" 

He guffawed and refused to answer. Or if he did, I didn't hear him. Edna and 
I were too busy spidering and playing with each other. 

Chapter Six 

At breakfast the next morning, Nell sat across from me, avoiding my gaze. 
And I didn't try to look at her, either. I felt a bit sheepish, of course, 
from my fresh meadow grazing of the night before, but I tried to speak 
cheerfully. 

"Fruit and cereal again?" 

"It's your stomach." 

"Bacon and eggs would go good for a change." 

She glared at me. "Yes, especially after last night, you probably need some 
energy. What time did you get in, anyway?" 

"The moon was down. I couldn't tell." 

She poured the coffee. "You won't feel like joking when I tell you." 

"Tell me what?" 

"About Lissa." 

"Lissa?" I dropped my spoon. 

"Yes. You and she must have got home about the same time. She was out to a 
party." 

"There wasn't any booze, was there?" 

Nell fingered the table cloth. "I don't think so. At least, I didn't smell 
it on her breath." 

My belly knotted. Oh, I could screw other men's daughters, all right, but 
when they screwed mine, that was different! "That Vic!" I growled. "I'll bet 
he's got a whole case of bourbon hidden in his car. Of all the-" 

"Wade!" Nell glared at me again. "You mustn't judge others. Besides, Vic 
hasn't had any upbringing. His father has humored him and let him run wild." 

"Upbringing?" I said. "Look at Lissa. She's had plenty." 

"Proving?" 

I got to my feet. "Proving that upbringing has nothing to do with it." 

Nell's gaze drilled me. "I give up, Wade. Trying to convince you is 
hopeless." 

I jerked into my coat. "It is hopeless, I'll admit, when you refuse to face 
facts." 

"Facts?" 

"Genes and heredity," I said, bitterly. "Like father, like daughter!" 

That evening Lissa came clacking down the stairs, a cloud of perfume 
enveloping her. Nell and I were gathering the supper dishes and silverware 
before taking them into the kitchen. I put down a handful of knives and 
forks to gaze at my daughter. 

"Going out again tonight, honey?" 

"Of course, Dad." She frowned. "Vic and I aren't wasting any time. We'll 
soon have to go back to school." 

Nell said, "They'll have to buckle down then." "And 111 be doing bawl games 
for spending money," Lissa told us. "Bawl games?" 

"Sure, Dad, baby sitting." "Oh, I thought you were talking about-" "Sure you 
did." Her lips curled. "You're not hip, Dad." 

That made me mad. "I guess not, Lissa. I never got to go to college." 

"Wade!" Nell's face reddened. 

Lissa shook her head. "Dad, you're all mixed up." 

"Maybe, but I'm not mixed up about that dress Lissa's wearing." 

Lissa's green eyes flashed. "Now what's wrong with my dress?" 

I stared at the plunging neckline. It showed a good part of Lissa's superb, 
alluring breasts. It was a dazzling dress, a shiny silver lame, the hemline 
rising above her enticing knees. I felt my anger draining away. 

"It's beautiful, honey," I told her. 

"Well?" 

"It is gorgeous, Lissa, but it shows too much of your charms." 

She gritted her even white teeth. "Dad! You're an antique." 

I said, "Lissa, can't you guess what such a sexy dress does to a man?" 

"Just what I want it to do, Dad." Her tone was sweet, too sweet. "It's tame, 
compared to the dresses some of the other girls wear." 

I started getting mad again. "Maybe so, Lissa, but-" 

"Here, you two!" Nell exclaimed. "You're both just alike. You can't be 
together five minutes without starting a fight. Stop it!" 

Chapter Seven 

So now Dad is upset about the way I dress, Lissa mused, trudging upstairs to 
her bedroom late that night after returning with Vic from the party. 

Lissa Sue Excell was what her father called her when he wanted to be 
impressive. She wished he'd leave out the middle. It was such a common name. 
Besides, she'd outgrown it. And the way he bragged on her voice! It was 
better than average, she felt, but there were so many singers, hundreds of 
them in colleges. Nearly every one of them, she believed, had visions of 
standing on the stage of the Metropolitan and singing her heart out to 
thunderous applause. 

But her father was odd. Seldom did he tell her what he was thinking, and her 
mother had to repeat what he had said. He didn't keep much from her mother. 
Was he afraid of his daughter? Lissa asked her mother about it. 

"Can't you guess, Lissa?" 

"Haven't the slightest." 

"He's not afraid, really," Nell said. "He just doesn't like arguments. He's 
trying to stay clear." 

"Clear of me?" 

"That's it. You know you and your father are both hot tempered." "Flare up 
like sparks?" 

Nell nodded. "But die down just as quickly, thank goodness!" 

"That must be why Dad doesn't talk to me any more than he has to." 

"He'll have to learn to talk to you like I do," Nell said, emphatically. 

"How do you mean?" Lissa said, frowning. 

Her mother smiled. "Simple. Just go right ahead and let you blow your top if 
you want to, while I keep my lid on and make you see my point." 

Lissa laughed. "It does work, doesn't it?" 

Her mother kissed her cheek. "Yes, dear, it does." 

But in the past few days Lissa had noticed a change in her mother. It 
frightened her to see the look in her eyes. They seemed cold, distant, 
worried. 

Lissa had her own key for whenever she came in late. She wondered why her 
father didn't take it from her. He was so unreasonable in some ways. What 
was wrong in making love? A lot of the kids at the university did it and 
thought no more of it than mere kissing. The antique moral code was dead. 
Young couples nowadays wanted to try sex to see if they were suited. What 
was the use of tying up for life, then discovering a little later that you 
were both mismatched? 

Lissa sat on the edge of her bed in her yellow pajamas, luxuriating in the 
balmy night. Through the window she saw Mars playing tag with the moon, high 
in the southern sky. The soft breeze was stealing over her father's garden, 
bringing the fragrance of honeysuckle. Just breathing it in made her want to 
sing. 

Her mind went back to her adolescence and her heart ached, recalling the 
pleasant memories. Now her father had become too strict, too unreasonable. 
The fashionable dress he had objected to! He had grown suspicious, afraid 
that Vic and she would never marry. 

Why was she having sex with Vic? Wasn't it the natural thing to do? Lots of 
the kids nowadays believed in premarital love, so long as it wasn't 
promiscuous. 

Next evening Lissa and Vic went dancing. Her parents didn't try to stop 
them. Lissa saw her father looking down his nose at supper. Her mother was 
biting her lip and trying to keep her fingers from twitching. Her parents 
seemed aching to say something, but they didn't. Maybe they were saving up 
for later. Lissa wished they would come right out with it. She hated 
waiting. 

Now, from the living room, she heard Vic's car coming. She always recognized 
it from the way he screeched the tires as he turned off Kennedy Boulevard 
into her street. Good thing his father was well-off or he'd be going around 
in a compact creeper like her father's. 

She hurried to meet Vic. She didn't want him to come in tonight. Her father 
might lose his temper and make a scene. And that wouldn't do any good. 

She watched Vic getting out of his car. He had the dome light on. His dark 
hair was sprayed down so that the wind didn't ruffle it. She could barely 
make out the red tip of his cigarette. She was always thinking he'd lose it, 
clinging to his lower lip so precariously. His dark eyes looked glamorous in 
the uncertain light, and she saw his long, slender fingers clutching the 
wheel. Scooting in beside him, she didn't look back. He was wearing an 
open-throat red sport shirt, and his shoes were glistening even in the dim 
light. 

"Why the rush, babe?" 

"Dodging a lecture." 

"Lecture? How you mean?" 

"Paternal and maternal." 

Vic revved the powerful motor. The big tires, backing up, kicked gravel. In 
seconds they were on Sylvan Road. Lissa snuggled up close to him and the 
car's speedometer needle climbed rapidly. 

"So they're playing detective?" His voice came clear to her. 

"Looks that way, Vic." 

"It's all right. We'll soon be married." 

His words sent a thrill through her. She broke into a happy song, a current 
tune. She wouldn't dare let her voice teacher hear her doing it. 

Vic was zipping around other cars almost as though they were standing still. 
Lissa shuddered, thinking what would happen if he let the car get out of 
control. But he was a fine driver, and she trusted him. He had promised to 
see her through as far as her singing talents would take her. She smiled to 
herself. It was just as easy to love a rich boy as a poor one. All he was 
asking was a bit of her loving, a sample of what they'd enjoy after 
marriage. And in the fulfillment of love, she would be able to sing with 
more feeling than ever. 

They were speeding down Park Hill. The city lay in a bowl before them. White 
lights were winking from the west rim of hills and red lights were flashing 
warnings over the tall apartment buildings and the TV towers. The drone of a 
jet plane overhead rose above the sound of the car's motor. 

She rested her head on Vic's shoulder. How wonderful to be young and in 
love! 

They arrived early. The dance floor was not yet crowded. The place was 
off-beat. Soft music was coming from somewhere, she couldn't tell where. The 
tables were hugging the wall, affording ample room on the dance floor. 

Said Vic, "Let's dance." 

Then she was in his arms, and he was holding her close, her head touching 
his shoulder. She could hear his heart thumping, feel her own throbbing. His 
body was pressing against her, setting up electric currents between them. 
She couldn't resist humming along with the group, and before she realized it 
she was singing. People began to stare. Vic shushed her. 

"Lissa!" He frowned, wrinkling his nose. "Easy! They'll bounce us." 

She laughed and sang louder. Vic pulled her aside. Here came a man in a silk 
suit. 

"Now we'll catch it," Vic snapped. 

"Pardon me," the man said. "I overheard you singing." 

She looked at him. He wasn't a masher. He looked a bit like her father, only 
more polished. 

Vic towered over him. "What's the deal?" 

Ignoring Vic, the man nodded toward the group. 

"Would you mind? A song or two? The crowd will think you're part of the 
act." 

Would she mind! In a minute she was on the platform, giving out with her 
all. Shades of Miss Casselli! If she ever hears about this, Wade Excell's 
daughter will get her vocal cords disinfected. But she forgot about that and 
put her heart into the song. Her father had told her that when she did that 
he got goosebumps. And some of her mother's friends declared her singing 
broke them up. 

Vic stood there, frowning. A stillness stole over the place. Lissa's voice 
sounded aloof and lonely. Then she finished and thrilled to the applause. 
She stepped off the platform, watching Vic scowl at her. 

"Of all things, warbling for this mob!" "I enjoyed it, Vic." 

"I thought we came to dance," he grumbled. "Let's get out of here." 

Outside, in his car, the lights whizzed by as he headed for Sylvandale. 
Lissa could feel the tension between them. She had done something to 
displease him. Unpardonable sin! She should have asked him before singing. 

When they reached the church not far from her house he doused the lights and 
made a sharp turn. Was he going to park? A chill shook her. 

"Vic, please, not behind a church!" 

He laughed. "Best place in the world." 

"But somebody might see us, Vic, and-" 

He laughed again. "Perfectly safe. Cops never think to look for neckers 
here." 

"But what if we were arrested?" 

"They can't touch Vic Miles, Lissa. My old man has the inside track." 

Chapter Eight 

Vic didn't park behind the church just to be stubborn. He felt that it was a 
spot where Lissa and he wouldn't be disturbed. Besides, his jock had been 
going wild all through the dance with Lissa. She had held him up, singing 
that crummy old song when they could have been snugly parked and enjoying 
their jollies. 

Now, he didn't waste time. He realized Lissa was a bit upset, but he'd just 
get her hot and she'd fuck him to a frazzle, almost half to death. And if 
dying felt that good, he wasn't going to shudder thinking about it. And 
Lissa, he had to admit, was a living, delectable doll. The moon was full, 
bright enough to show him her captivating features. He feasted his eyes on 
her dazzling, radiant blonde hair, her alluring pink lips and her green 
eyes. Her nose was small and neat, and tilted up saucily. Her cheek bones 
were high and somewhat prominent. 

But these fine points faded into the background after she'd shed most of her 
clothes and he gazed at her ravishing body. The night was warm, balmy and a 
soft breeze was bringing the fragrance of somebody's rosebed east of his 
car. The moonlight seemed to cast a romantic cloak over everything. Vic's 
heart pounded, and his small pecker throbbed wildly when he looked down at 
Lissa's enchanting thighs. Her legs were somewhat long and entirely 
flawless, as white marble in the moonglow. Through the sheen of her glossy 
panties he could see her alluring pussy, peeking through a mat of blonde 
hair resembling that crowning her head. 

Vic gasped and his balls jerked up madly, painfully. He'd have to get action 
pretty damn sudden or he'd suffer a violent stoneache. Lissa's stomach was 
flat as a sterling silver plate and her ivory white titties were drawn up 
tight. 

"Vic," she cooed, playfully cupping her enticing boobs and moving toward 
him, "I was afraid you were mad at me, and wouldn't want to make love." 

"Hell, sweets! I'll always crave to get into your pussy. But your old man 
is-" 

"Don't worry about him, Vic. He can't stop us." 

"Okay, so I won't." Vic nodded and started pulling Lissa's panties down. 
"Anyway, your dad is probably getting fresh nooky on the QT. Most of these 
old studs are always hunting strange pussy." 

Taking Lissa's panties off, Vic got a good look at the lips of her gorgeous 
cunt. His fingers fondled the mat that was jealously trying to conceal it. 
His whacker threatened to go into convulsions. He had to think of trifling 
things to keep from shooting his cream. He pulled a blanket from the rear 
seat and tossed it onto the soft grass beside the road. 

"Come on, Lissa," he ordered, holding out his arms. "Nobody can see us on 
the ground, and the damned car seat is too cramped." 

She hugged his neck as he carried her to the blanket. Spreading it out, he 
put her down gently upon it and got down beside her. She snuggled close to 
him and they lay naked, her flowerlike fingers caressing his chest. To Vic, 
this was pure ecstasy. Then her fingers slipped down to his biceps. 

"God, lover," she murmured, "your muscles are hard as your prong. I love 
them all." 

Which made Vic feel like a king, although his pals had kidded about his 
whacker, insinuating that if it was four inches shorter he could have passed 
for a queen. Lissa urged him onto his back, and her sweet smelling body 
moved over his. "Vic, honey," she whispered, "let's take our own sweet time 
and go all the way to heaven and back." 

"Yeah," he muttered, "let's. Anyway," he chuckled, "we're in the right spot 
for it." 

Her luscious thighs pressed against his hairy ones. Shivery thrills flashed 
from his quivering belly to his premature balding spot. What a female! Her 
hard-nippled boobs were bumping against his heaving chest. Then she moved 
downward a little and bent her head. He felt the satin-smooth skin of her 
back and milk-white mounds of her enticing ass. She started to chuckle, then 
kissed his lips long and passionately. 

"Could we play a bit rough, Vic, honey?" she murmured. 

"Give it the works, Babe." 

She dug her even white teeth into his left nipple and clamped down. At the 
same time she clutched his balls and squeezed. It did hurt, but Vic gritted 
his teeth and refused to flinch. The pain felt oddly exciting and thrilling, 
too. Lissa reversed her position on the blanket, putting her feet near his 
head. She spread her tantalizing thighs and jerked her heels in toward her 
sleek buttocks. Close up, he realized, it was even more beautiful than 
before. Her thighs were moist, giving off a sweet, musky fragrance. It made 
Vic's whacker jerk up and pulse. 

"Kiss my little box, honey," she cooed. "Make hot love to it." 

He drew back for a moment, then thrust his tongue in between the glowing 
lips of her pussy. He plunged his tongue in and out repeatedly. Then a shock 
hit him as he felt her warm, sweet mouth encircling the head of his prick. 
He savagely spanked her clit with his tongue. He was going to come quickly, 
too damned quickly! He tried to draw back, but Lissa clutched his head, 
pressed down hard and surged up, up, with her pelvis. It was then that Vic 
heard bells ringing, firecrackers cracking, and he almost went around the 
bend. Lissa gave a tiny, sharp cry, and held onto his cock with her teeth 
until it had stopped its convulsive spurting. Lissa and he had come 
together. 

"Oh, Vic, honey," she murmured, "it was divine. I don't care what Dad says. 
I'm never going to stop doing it with you. I love you, Vic." 

"Make a carbon copy of that," he said. 

"Now," she went on, "let's rest a minute, honey, and do some more later." 

"So soon again?" Vic asked, staring at her. "Babe, it'll be more than a 
minute." 

So they lay there for a full five minutes, relaxing and murmuring sweet 
words that inevitably come after sexual ecstasy. At the time, that wasn't 
difficult for Vic to do. He felt that Lissa was the absolute most. 

"Penny for your thoughts, Vic," she said, kissing him warmly. "Isn't it time 
for-" 

"Yeah, babe, it's time." 

"Can I take the lead this time, Vic?" she cooed. "I want us to get a double 
kick out of this one." "What have I got to lose?" 

She laughed softly and got to her hands and knees in front of him and 
twisted her neck to look at him. "Let's play you're the big stud, Vic, and 
I'm the horny little mare." 

He mounted her, his whacker pulsing and jerking impatiently. He rubbed its 
head against her clit. She moaned, writhed, and arched her back. "Don't 
forget, Vic, I've got two spots that thrill me." 

"Two?" 

"Sure. Just stick your thumb into one and your prong into the other. Leave 
the rest to me. I'll do all the work." 

Work? For a moment, Vic was so surprised he almost lost his erection, but 
Lissa reached back and caressed his balls. That saved the day. He worked his 
thumb into her little brown spot and his cock between those heavenly pink 
lips of her pussy. 

"Go ahead, honey," she begged. "Do it. Do it hard in both places." 

Vic was never one to disappoint a female, so he obeyed her. He shoved his 
pecker in savagely. Lissa yelped, heaved and wriggled, pushing up, up with 
her pelvis. She kept one hand on his balls, her soft fingers fondling them. 
She was cooing and crying all at once, half-wild with the pressure of Vic's 
cock that linked them. They moved fast, then slowly. They desperately wanted 
to come together. Then Lissa began to move in a tempo that would tolerate no 
hesitation. Vic sensed that her moment was imminent. 

"Vic, honey, oh, Vic!" she cried, "it's almost here. I'm afraid I'm going to 
faint." 

But she didn't, and neither did Vic. When her first muffled cries ceased and 
her climactic yelp sounded, his prick spurted repeatedly, and they came 
together. 

Chapter Nine 

When Lissa turned her key in the front door at home, she glanced through the 
feeble light at the clock on the mantel. Four in the morning! Her mother 
always left the night light on for her. She heard a faint stirring in the 
kitchen. Dad again! He couldn't sleep, fretting about her. He was probably 
back there, downing a glass of milk to make him drowsy. Why didn't he just 
swallow a tranquilizer and stop worrying about her? That's what most fathers 
did. 

She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. "Maybe I'd better go talk to him," 
she muttered, staring at the floor. She waited a moment. No! She didn't want 
to get into an argument, not now. She felt sated and too contented to get 
into a quarrel. She couldn't make him understand, anyway. 

She tiptoed up the stairs to her bedroom. 

Next morning was Saturday, and Lissa knew her father didn't work today. She 
stayed late in bed and avoided him at lunch. At noon her bedroom door was 
open when she heard him coming up the stairs. She stretched out on the bed 
in her pajamas and pretended to be napping. But she kept one eyelid cracked. 
Her father looked sad. He sighed and shook his head, then tiptoed 
downstairs. In a few moments Lissa overheard her mother and him talking. 

"Four o'clock, you say, Wade?" He sighed deeply. "Yes, I was in the kitchen. 
Couldn't get to sleep." "Not good for her voice." 

"Not good for her any way you look at it," he said, sourly. 

"What can we do?" 

"I might shoot Vic," he said heatedly. 

"Wade!" 

"Well, I feel like it sometimes," he growled. 

"Lissa'd hate you for even thinking of it." 

Wade usually kissed his wife good-bye each time they parted, but today Lissa 
was certain he didn't. Thinking about Vic and her hadn't put her parents in 
a kissing mood. 

She heard her father's compact chug away and she got up. She noted that a 
lot of the cans and bottles were almost empty. She'd have to go to 
Sylvandale Drug to get a fresh supply. Right after downing her low calorie 
liquid brunch, she walked to the store and told Hal Lemmon what she wanted. 
His clerks were busy. 

"Okay, Miss Excell. Coming right up." He smiled crookedly. 

He took her list and started rummaging through the shelves. She got a Coke 
and sat down in a rear booth. 

The side door opened and she heard a familiar voice call to Mr. Lemmon, 
"Hey, Hal! You!" It was Vic. "Three choc malts, up here in the first booth." 

Lissa saw the druggist glance around cautiously, then give Vic the "O" sign 
with his thumb and middle finger. 

Lissa knew Vic couldn't see her for the old-style, high-backed booths. I'll 
surprise him, she thought. He probably thinks I'm still home in bed, 
catching up on my sleep. 

Lemmon brought her stuff. "There you are." His voice was low. "Put it on the 
bill?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Vic Miles and his pals just came in." He glanced at her slyly. "He's in the 
front booth if you'd like-" 

"I know. I want to surprise him." 

Lemmon shrugged and walked away. He wouldn't let the soda jerk fill Vic's 
order for the three malts. The kid started to get the glasses, but the 
druggist stopped him. 

Lissa ordered a second Coke and sat there. She felt curious to see what the 
malts looked like. In a few moments she got up and quietly moved closer to 
Vic without his seeing her. 

The druggist passed her with a tray. What he had on it did not resemble a 
malt. It appeared more like limeade. Lissa caught a sharp whiff from the 
glasses as he passed her. Lemmon's squinting blue eyes widened when he saw 
that she had moved. 

"Charge it, Vic?" 

"You know it, man." Vic cocked an index finger at him. 

The druggist walked back toward the prescription counter, staring at Lissa 
as he passed. He kept his mouth shut. 

She heard Gary say, "How about it, Vic?" 

"About what?" 

"That cold pizza you've been nibbling," Gary said. "When you going to dump 
it? I'm waiting, man!" 

Vic laughed. "Maybe it's warmed up a bit." 

"Behind some church, I'll bet." 

"Best place in the county," Vic said. 

Lissa bit her lip. She knew it was impolite to eavesdrop, but her curiosity 
was aroused. She could hear the boys' glasses clinking and snapping on the 
table. 

Soon, Vic called out, "Hal? Hey! How about a refill? And make it snappy." 

Vic stood up at the same time Lissa did, and their eyes met. His eyebrows 
climbed and his face reddened. For a moment he said nothing, then he 
stammered, "Oh, it-it's you, babe! Can I get you something?" 

Get her something, indeed! Her anger flared. She felt her cheeks burning, 
then she began to tremble with resentment. She glared at Vic for a moment, 
then picked up her stuff and started for the front entrance. 

"Hey, Lissa, wait!" 

She heard him hurrying after her. He caught up to her just outside the 
building. 

"Lissa, wait a minute!" He grasped her arm. 

"You're hurting me, Vic!" She jerked free. "I heard you, you and your pals. 
I didn't want to eavesdrop, but-" 

He laughed gaily. "Oh, that!" 

"Yes, that! What do you take me for?" 

"You don't think I was-" 

"Who else?" Her voice was icy. 

"Naw!" He waved his hand and smiled. "You got it all wrong. We were talking 
about a whistle chick I used to go with before I ever knew you." 

She hesitated. "Then nothing's changed between us?" 

"Of course not. I'm even figuring on setting the date." "Date?" 

"Stupid!" he exclaimed. 

"But we can't marry till we're out of school." 

"I don't see why not," he said. 

"You've got to finish your education." 

Vic shrugged. "What's the difference? Old man Miles will look out for his 
favorite son." 

Suddenly, Lissa felt a little fed-up with the favorite son. Still, she was 
in love with him and his father was well-to-do, and . . . What if he was? 
That wouldn't change Vic. Was Vic really intending to marry her? Her nerves 
were prickling and her stomach tensing into a hard knot. Her father had said 
that Vic was a terrible liar. Was Vic lying now? "Come on, Lissa," he urged. 
"I got a swell idea." "Like what?" 

"Willow Beach." He licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. "Wear your 
bikini." 

Lissa glanced at the sun. It would be setting in a few minutes. "Too late, 
isn't it?" 

"You're kidding. The water is nice and warm, even after dark, and-" 

"Dad doesn't want me to be out late every night." 

"Nuts to him. You'll probably beat him home at that." 

He was urging her toward his car. "So what with your dad? What does the 
future Mrs. Victor Miles care about what he likes or doesn't like?" 

"Vic, I still think-" 

"Come on, stupid." He waved her down. "Show 'em you're a real swinger and do 
what you please!" 

Chapter Ten 

After that thrilling screw with Edna, Floyd's girl friend, my old monster 
lay dormant for a couple of days. Then I dropped a hint or two to Nell, but 
she wasn't having any. She still slept downstairs on the couch. So far as 
she was concerned, I might as well have been a castrated mutt in the dog 
house. 

I wonder if the gals have secret methods of communication, especially where 
a king-size jock is concerned, say, like mine? Anyway, in less than a week, 
a cutie named Grace Martin, in our office, began giving me the glad eye. Now 
I may be dense in some ways, but not when a swell looker like Grace starts 
giving me the come-on. 

Her name didn't match her personality and cock-raising equipment. And 
brother, she had it, maybe like the old timers used to rave about Clara Bow. 
But Grace was a blonde, not brunette. She had this long, naturally golden 
hair, cascading from her head. I was fearful at times that it might snag in 
our teletypes. She was continually flicking it aside so she could see what 
was going on, chiefly with the stiffening, low wad behind my pants zipper. 
Edna had talked, no doubt about it. 

Grace's eyes were like pools of deep blue sky, transplanted to earth. The 
way they sparkled and widened when they flashed me a greeting, gave me just 
the signal I needed. She had a short upper lip and her lips were a bit 
prominent, as if she were pouting. Even in the hustle and bustle of our 
office I found her alluring and seductive. But this was peanuts compared to 
the feeling she gave me when I got her into a room at Floyd's Aloha Motel. 

She didn't look very old, so I felt a little skittish about her parents. 

"What about your folks, Grade?" I asked. "Will they wonder what-" 

"No problem, Mister Excell. I'm staying overnight with my girl friend. Get 
it?" 

"Yeah, Grade," I said. "Smart gal." 

We were both rearing to go. It was rather warm in the room. I'd ordered a 
nice bouquet of red roses for the dressing table. They were perfuming the 
air, making me think of Omar the tentmaker. 

But here I was, lying in my birthday suit on some clean sheets on a bouncy 
mattress. My jock was throbbing, my balls jerking up. What the hell was 
Grade doing in the bathroom? She'd been fooling around in there a long time, 
it seemed to me, but maybe I was just too horny and impatient. And . . . 

But here she came at last. In the dim glow of the ruby night light she 
looked silky and sexy, aching for love. My old monster nearly went into 
convulsions. Grade stopped at the side of the bed and playfully spidered its 
jerking head. 

"Where you from, big man?" she asked softly. 

"I'm a Sooner, sweets," I told her. 

"Lordy, man, that's a honey you got there!" 

"Well, Gracie, we grow men and pricks there!" 

She bent down and kissed me passionately. Her lips were firm and sweet. My 
cock leaped. I reached over and spidered her enticing thigh. She chuckled 
and shied off a step. "Careful, Mister," she warned. "My little trap might 
snap shut on you." 

I laughed and patted her tantalizing ass. Her flesh felt firm and sleek. She 
bent over and kissed me again, a hot, lingering kiss that made my heart 
hammer. My hands caught behind her back and rolled her on top of me. 

"Baby," I murmured, "you're the goddess of sex." 

"Lordy, aren't we dramatic!" she cried. 

My hands slipped down and grasped her alluring buttocks, and she moved, and 
brother, how she moved! Her delectable body felt almost like a coiled 
spring. Her flawless legs gripped my sides, holding me tight. Then she 
flipped over, never breaking her grip. Her hips went up, up, and her legs 
relaxed and pointed at the ceiling. She was gasping, writhing, her wet lips 
pressing against mine. 

"Big man," she moaned, "I go for you. It was love at first sight when I came 
to your office. Fuck me, honey. Do it. Hold it in me, hard and deep. I don't 
care if it hurts." 

So I did, and her legs tightened again, her pelvis coming up in rapid 
thrusts. Then she did an odd thing: she started shivering and I feared she 
was going to faint, but I kept thrusting and she matched me stroke for 
stroke. She whimpered, then cried out, her tight pussy palpitating and 
contracting till I thought my balls would explode. But I wanted to make it 
last as long as I could. I purposely held back. It was enticingly warm 
inside her pussy, very thrilling with its throbbings and palpitations. Her 
body felt seductively soft in my fevered embrace. 

I slowed my movements and went gently as I could with my old monster's full 
length. Gracie was panting now, holding her pelvis tightly against me. Time 
and again, I kissed her luscious hot lips. They were firm and sweet. Her 
tongue was rigid and she thrust it savagely against mine. A thrill struck my 
balls and flashed all the way from my ass to my Adam's apple. I fought to 
keep from climaxing. Then a rocket flashed in my brain and gongs blasted my 
ears. I felt my semen coming in long ecstatic spurts. For a long moment I 
lay there, enjoying the orgasm, my eyes closed, my heart hammering. Then it 
almost stopped beating. My lover was lying silent and inert beneath me. 

"Gracie? Gracie!" I cried. "Did you make it, baby! Did you get your 
jollies?" 

She didn't answer. Getting quickly to my knees, I knelt beside her. She was 
breathing, but very slowly. Her face had gone deathly pale. I slapped her 
cheeks and chafed her hands. 

"Grade?" I cried again. "Wake up, baby! Wake up!" 

I was shaking all over, cold sweat popping out on my forehead. Was she going 
to die? Or had she only fainted? Then, in a few moments, her eyelids 
fluttered and her eyes opened. She smiled wanly and I heaved a sigh of 
relief. She reached up and patted my cheek. "Don't worry, big man," she 
murmured. "I'm fine. I always do this." 

"You mean you pass out before you get your cookies?" 

"Yes, honey," she said, gently. "But don't feel bad about it. I don't get 
cheated, really, I don't. The big thrill is sort of like a wonderful dream. 
I seem to be floating on a big, fleecy cloud when I come. Maybe it's like 
you feel when you're smoking pot. I don't smoke it, but I know others who 
do." 

"Grade, you scared the crap out of me. Why didn't you warn me what to 
expect?" 

"I'm sorry, big man, really I am. You're so sweet I'm going to make it up 
for the fright I gave you." 

She grasped my tool in firm fingers and moved her lithe body around. Her 
lips parted and she took my whacker in her mouth. Then her tongue started 
spanking the head in sharp, thrusting jabs. It thrilled me clear down to my 
toes. She was going to make me climax and deny herself. She'd even let me 
squirt hot cream down her throat. I couldn't bear for her to do that. She 
was too dainty, too sweet. 

"Stop it, Gracie," I begged. "I want you to have fun, too." 

She raised her radiant head and nodded, then settled back on the bed. She 
lifted her hips, inviting me to use my tongue. Damn! I'd just give this 
little honey a double thrill resolving not to panic if she fainted. My 
tongue kept spanking her glossy pussy, while I located her hardening clit 
with my finger. I was astounded at its size. The base was large as a nickel, 
its appendage over an inch long. I started spidering it gently. 

"Oh, Wade," she murmured, "it's good. I hope I don't pass out. Easy, big 
man, easy! I want to get my cookies, but not like this. I want that 
king-size prick inside me, jerking and spurting." 

I never argue with the ladies, when screwing is involved, so I obeyed her, 
repeatedly kissing her clit and the pink lips of her pussy. She sighed and 
shivered, then relaxed. Her lips melted into mine and I mounted her in the 
way nature intended. Pressing down in deep, deliberate thrusts, I felt 
Gracie writhing and twisting beneath me. Then I withdrew all the way, waited 
a moment, then thrust hard and deep. She yelped and clutched me tightly. I 
felt her body shuddering and writhing, then stiffening and quivering. She 
pushed her pelvis up, up, whimpering and moaning. My old monster exploded in 
breathtaking spurts. 

"Wade, Wade!" she cried. Oh, Lord, it's happening! Now, now. Don't worry if 
I-" 

Then, again, her body shuddered and relaxed beneath me. I pulled out and 
stared at her. Her face was pale, set, and her body inert. Damn! She'd 
passed out again. 

I tried not to panic. She'd be all right in a minute, wouldn't she? She'd 
told me she'd be all right, but maybe . . . 

Finally, her breath came normally. I put my head against her breast, 
listening for her heart. It was beating faintly and rapidly. So why the hell 
didn't she come out of it? I slapped her cheeks and chafed her cold hands. 
Ye gods, what if she didn't regain consciousness? 

She opened her eyes. They looked dull and bewildered. She stared at me 
blankly for a few moments. Then recognition dawned and she smiled wanly. 

"Oh, Wade," she murmured, "aren't I the odd one? I'm sorry, really I am. 
You'll never want to screw me again. I love you, big man. You will do it 
again with me, won't you? Maybe I wouldn't pass out and-" 

I forced a laugh. "Don't worry, Gracie," I said, lightly. "We both got our 
jollies, didn't we? That's all that matters. No problem, really." 

But it was, and I think she knew I was lying. I was scared she would pass 
out. For keeps! Then I'd be in one hell of a fix, with a dead girl under my 
belly. That would call for some tall explaining all around and probably cost 
me my good job. And jobs like mine weren't so easy to come by. 

Chapter Eleven 

The drive to Willow Beach took Vic and Lissa south of town. The sun was 
down, sending up shafts of orange light. The big car was purring along 
twenty miles above the speed limit, but Lissa saw that Vic was keeping a 
close watch for traffic cops. Down here, the terrain was lower, and as dusk 
came on, a depressing dampness set in. The breeze was fanning Lissa's face 
and she felt chilly. 

When they turned off the pavement and struck the gravel road leading to the 
beach, it was quite dark. The moon had not yet shown its face. The dust hung 
heavy in the air, raised by cars moving ahead. 

The place was crowded. Lissa heard a radio blaring, its volume turned up so 
high it made her eardrums throb. Teenagers were everywhere, both in and out 
of the water. She felt a bit skittish watching some of the other girls' 
bikinis, but so what. When she got into her own she would be just as nude as 
they. 

Vic left her for about five minutes. When he came back he was wearing trunks 
that barely! 

"Let's hit it, babe." His chest swelled. "I feel like a million tonight." 

She looked at him. He was a fine physical specimen, even if a bit shallow 
underneath. And he was right. It was time she showed her father that she was 
a woman, capable of choosing and acting for herself. 

Vic led the way, going into the water ahead of her. In a few moments he came 
up, blowing. He swam rapidly toward her, his muscular arms glinting under 
the moon's light. She was still standing near the edge, waiting for him to 
join her. She waited for Vic to come out. 

"You chicken?" he said. 

"No, Vic, I'm just not crazy about the water." 

"Okay, okay. I'll teach you something besides your crummy breast stroke." 

They went down a ways and waded in. When they reached shoulder depth, Vic 
stopped. Lissa could feel sand under her feet. The water was warm. 

"Now, babe," he said, "put your arms on my shoulders and hold on." 

Her arms went up and he crawfished, causing her body to rise. 

"Now, kick, try to push ahead," he ordered. 

She made a big splash but got nowhere. Then she felt his seeking hands on 
her thighs. He was tugging at her bikini. 

"Vic!" 

Chuckling, he backed away. Lissa let her feet sink to the sandy bottom. 
There were no other swimmers near them. 

"Hold tight, Lissa." 

She felt his arms go down and his body press hard against her. He was 
holding her tightly, his hands searching. 

"Vic!" she muttered, "not here. Everybody will-" 

"Quiet!" he hissed. "It's no problem. People can't see under water. I'm just 
teaching you to swim. Get it?" 

She tried to pull back, but he only held her tighter and she felt him invade 
her. She wasn't in the mood, couldn't get into it. In a few moments, he 
shuddered and moaned. She pulled away from him and straightened her bikini. 

He laughed. "You're learning, babe. I'll have you off that crummy breast 
stroke in a jiffy." 

"You could have waited, Vic. You cheated me. You don't care for anybody but 
yourself." 

"Relax, babe, we'll do it again after we leave." He splashed water in her 
face. "Anyway, as Mrs. Victor Miles, you'll have to have a lot of swimming 
lessons before you can do that crawl." 

On the way home Vic didn't talk. He seemed bored with everything. Lissa 
didn't try to make conversation, but her mind was buzzing. Making love under 
water? It wasn't worth a damn. And what about Vic's conversation with his 
pals in the drugstore? Were they talking about her? Surely not. Yet, her 
father kept remarking what a confirmed liar Vic was. Did she love Vic and 
did he really care for her? Or was he just seeking those few moments of 
frantic effort that rewarded him with breathtaking thrills? 

What if there was an accident? It could happen, as she well knew. Could she 
steal some of her mother's pills? But if an accident did occur, Vic would 
marry her and everything would be all right. They could go away if they had 
to. His father would give them money and . . . 

She knew Vic had made love with many other girls. He was so vainglorious 
that he never tried to conceal his past affairs. 

"Vic?" She touched his arm. 

"What?" 

"All those other girls?" "What about 'em?" 

"I just wish you hadn't. Why did you have to tell me?" 

"Stop goofin' off, babe." 

"Oh, all right, I just can't help feeling jealous." "Forget it. Would you 
want to marry a square?" "I guess not. But you're sure I'm the one, really 
the one?" 

"Of course, you are, if that'll make you happy." 

He sat up straight and the big car leaped forward. "Now hold tight," he 
muttered. "We're headed for home." 

She stared at him. "But, Vic, I thought we were going to-" 

"Not tonight," he growled. "I'm not in the mood. I'll fuck you a dozen times 
tomorrow night." 

Next evening, Lissa knew, was a special one at the Sylvandale Country Club. 
A dozen times tonight? Mercy! She thought three would be a plenty. Vic 
wasn't calling for her till late. Now, she was upstairs in her bedroom, 
watching for his car to turn in. But she didn't need to look for it. She 
could always hear the tires screeching. 

She was decked out in a low-necked, beaded red dress. Her perfume was 
tantalizing, sexy, her eyelashes carefully done, her lipstick evenly 
applied, nails expertly lacquered, even her toenails. Her eyebrows were 
plucked and arched. If all this didn't make Vic want to screw, she'd have to 
send him to a head shrinker. 

They found the country club crowded. Tonight the dancers were mostly 
teenagers, whose fathers owned the place and came there on weekends to play 
golf. The walls of the building had been finished in glistening wood 
paneling with thin pink strips running up and down. There were some fancy 
glass lighting fixtures, tinkling when the floor vibrated beneath the 
dancing couples. The band had already arrived and was playing. When the dome 
lights were turned off the table lamps were switched on, their glow softened 
by pink shades. 

Lissa had never been there before. Facing Vic on the waxed floor made her 
feel she was dreaming. But she knew she wasn't. Soon, the future Mrs. Victor 
Miles would be coming here if and when she felt like it. Was she paying too 
high a price for all this? Maybe, but that pending ceremony at the altar 
would settle all accounts. 

When the music stopped, Vic guided her off the floor. 

"Having fun, Lissa?" 

"Marvelous." 

"You're a real swinger, babe." Licking his lips, his eyes measured her. "And 
that dress!" "Like it?" 

"It's nice." Again, his gaze raked her. "You've got all the studs gawking." 

He lifted his glass. "Here's to the queen of the mod generation." 

She lifted hers. "And here's to my king." 

The first swallow bit her tongue, almost choking her, but she stayed with 
it, while Vic took two more sips. Then he drained his glass and pulled a 
bottle from its frigid nest. She watched the stuff bubbling as he poured. 
She heard a stirring behind her and looked around. Here came Vic's pals, 
Gary Johler and Dudley Jones. Vic stood, and the two pulled up chairs. 

"Sit down, fly-boys," Vic invited. "Where are your dates?" 

Dudley said, "Gone to the powder room for a new coat of shellac." 

"Their thatches were caving in." Gary tapped his head. 

Lissa knew they were talking about the girls' upswept hairdos, the sort that 
looked as if they had come smack out of the African bush. But what could 
girls do? 

Dudley was staring at Lissa. He said to Vic, "You got the same old chick, 
pal. When you gonna trade her in?" 

"Man!" Gary said. 

"Had her redecorated," Vic said. "She's good as new." 

Both Gary and Dudley devoured her with goatish stares. She could almost feel 
their gaze boring into her chest. 

"Yeah!" Gary exclaimed. 

"Yeah!" Dudley echoed. "Swell furnishings, man!" 

They all had another glass of the tongue-tingling stuff and Lissa began to 
feel a bit dizzy. The boys got up and left. She saw them joining their dates 
on the dimly lighted east terrace. 

Vic looked after them and grinned. "Those studs and chicks are going out on 
the course to play a little miniature golf." 

He lifted the bottle and started to pour another drink for Lissa. 

"No, Vic. Please!" 

"Now don't be chicken!" His shoulders stiffened. 

"I'm not, only-" "Only what?" "If I went home and Dad saw me, he would-" 

"That's a giggle." Vic waved his hand like a pendulum. "He won't open his 
trap. He's probably out screwing some broad." 

Lissa stood up, feeling a little unsteady. "You don't know him, Vic. He's 
got an awful temper. He might do something desperate if you push him too 
far." 

Vic downed his drink. "Well, he's in for a big slice one of these days." 
"How do you mean?" 

Vic didn't answer for a minute. He was watching the couples jerking and 
twisting and bobbing to a hot number. 

"The old squares, all of them," he said, harshly, "have got to tumble to the 
fact that our young set is different. We're hip. We're free thinkers and 
we're not going to let anybody cramp our style or hold us down." 

"They think a lot of us are trouble, Vic." 

Vic's face tightened. "Okay, let 'em think and be damned. We know what we're 
doing and where we're headed." 

"In tune with our times?" 

"You said it, babe." He banged the empty glass on the table. "We're 
individualists. We're on our way, hippies in clean clothes." 

Vic and Lissa got up on the floor, with the rest, twisting and jerking and 
bobbing. She saw that Vic was a little drunk. Later, when the air cooled, he 
suggested they go out on the golf course to play. 

"You know, babe," he grinned. "I promised to screw you a dozen times 
tonight." 

"You'll have to show me," she kidded. "I'm guessing about three is your 
limit." 

"Oh, yeah?" He pinched her tantalizing boobs. "I know a spot where the grass 
is thick and soft. We won't even need a blanket." 

And they didn't. They just shed their clothes and lay down upon them. Their 
naked bodies resembled marble in the moonlight, except for the dark hair on 
Vic's chest. They started snuggling, and Vic's small whacker was weaving its 
head when they heard a giggling and murmuring nearby. 

"What the-" Vic muttered, coming up on one elbow. "Oh, I'll bet I know who 
that is. It's got to be Dudley and his date. I saw them sneak out just ahead 
of us. I'm pretty sure he's been fucking that redhead we saw in the 
drugstore a few days ago." 

Lissa said nothing, and Vic called, guardedly, "Hey, Dud, is that you?" 

"Yeah, Vic," the answer came right back. "We're over here in the rough. How 
about joining you?" - "Okay, Lissa?" Vic whispered. 

"Sure, Vic, the more the merrier. Tell 'em to come on over." 

Chapter Twelve 

When Dudley and the redhead joined Vic and Lissa, they were all naked as a 
plucked duck's ass. The new gal's hair almost glistened in the moonlight. 
And she appeared a lot sexier than she had when Vic first saw her in the 
drugstore. 

Dudley quickly made the introductions. The carrot-topped whistle chick's 
name was Gloria Dumont, and, as Vic feasted his little black eyes upon her, 
he thought the name was perfect. She was glorious, worthy of any young 
stud's attention. She hadn't looked so hot in her slacks a few days ago, but 
now, in the nude? Brother! His whacker leaped and waved its head at the new 
girl. His temples were pounding as he gazed at her willowy body. She moved a 
bit, and her legs, smooth as satin and whiter than milk, ascended to her 
compact mounds of tantalizing buttocks. Venus, Vic thought, even with three 
good arms couldn't have been more appealing. Gloria's feet were tiny, and, 
in the moonlight, reminded Vic of a pair of white doves. His gaze moved 
upward. On each side of her enchanting pussy the pubic hair curled out, 
fine-spun and auburn, and he thought a bit jealous in the way it was trying 
to conceal her tantalizing box. 

His mouth was watering. He wanted to suck Gloria's enchanting pink nipples. 
Her boobies were snow white, unmarred by any ugly veins. Her cascading 
auburn hair swirled nonchalantly over her white shoulders. 

"Hey, Vic!" Dudley poked him with an index finger. "You gonna stare at my 
chick all night?" 

"I might," Vic said. "This moonlight is almost bright as day." 

"Well, let's get going. Things are a bit too light here. Let's move over 
near the edge of the course. There's some big clumps of willows on a creek 
bank. We can take our own sweet time over there." 

Quickly, they walked to the border of the course, and lay down on the 
blanket Dudley had brought. Vic could see the moonbeams dancing on the 
shallow water, trickling over the rocky creek bed. Nearby a thrush was 
singing his heart out to his lady love. Probably working up a good fuck, Vic 
thought. A field of blooming clover sweetened the balmy night air. It was 
all very romantic, Vic felt, but right now he wasn't hot for frothy 
romanticism, he was hot for a thrilling piece of ass, and there were two 
enticing whistle chicks right under his nose. His small whacker was 
throbbing and his balls were aching. He wanted to get screwed, fucked hard 
and fast. 

"Well," Dudley growled, "do we do it, or don't we?" 

"Okay, okay!" Vic exclaimed. "Have you popped Gloria yet?" 

"Not yet. We heard you and Lissa coming and we waited." 

"Fine," Vic said, "and I got a swell idea. Let's all four do it together. 
Get us a double kick." He faced Lissa and Gloria. "How about it, girls?" 

"Suits me," they chirped in unison. 

"Gloria, you flop over on your back," Vic ordered. 

"Just a damn minute," she bantered. "I got a better idea. "You lie down, 
Vic, on your back." 

"Okay, doll," he said, shrugging. "You show us. I'm game for anything hot 
and different." 

He turned on his back and Gloria lay across his lap. 

"Now, Vic, you grab my left leg while I lift my right." 

He obeyed and her alluring thigh felt hot and quivery under his eager 
fingers. 

"Now, Lissa," Gloria went on, "you get to your knees and lave my pussy. 
Don't be shy, honey. It won't bite you. I'll do likewise for yours pretty 
damn sudden." 

Dudley was twisting on his side, frowning. Gloria was lying so that her lips 
were very near the head of his prong. "Now push up and I'll jack you off," 
she told him. 

He frowned again, but started hunching when she began working his whacker. 
Gloria was smiling, but shuddered violently when Lissa tongued her pussy. 
Gloria's soft fingers were exploring between Dudley's legs, spidering his 
balls and pumping his whacker. She was gazing at its head. She spread her 
lips and Vic saw Dudley push to meet them. 

"Now don't bite me," Dud said, grinning. 

"Lover, if I do," she murmured, "it'll be so thrilling you'll pass out." 

Vic felt Gloria's body stiffening and saw Dudley's face go rigid and his 
eyes close. Vic realized they were about to come. But where would that leave 
Lissa and him? 

He tried to take in everything with one long look. Gloria let out a yelp and 
pushed her pelvis up, up. Was she creaming off into Lissa's mouth? Dudley's 
little whacker was spurting a white load at Gloria's open lips. Most of it 
shot into her mouth, but a little splashed onto her chin and throat. 

"Lick it off, sister," she told Lissa. 

Lissa hesitated for a long moment, but since it was all in the game, she 
laved Gloria's face. 

Vic was getting mad. Lissa and he had been cheated. They'd had to watch 
Dudley and Gloria get their rocks off, while they were left dry. 

Lissa faced them, her eyes narrowed, her breath quickened. 

"You cheaters!" she cried. "Now scram out of here while Vic and I get our 
jollies!" 

Dudley grinned at Gloria, but she didn't grin back. "Let joy be unconfined, 
you fuckers," Dudley said. "Gloria and I will do the same all by our 
lonesome." 

"No, we don't!" Gloria flashed. "I want to sample Vic's technique. I've 
wanted to ever since the first time I saw him. You stay here with Lissa, and 
Vic and I will hunt another spot." 

"Okay, okay," Dudley said, shrugging. "Anyway, I've been panting to screw 
Lissa for a long time. So go ahead with Vic." 

Gloria laughed and spidered Vic's throbbing prong. 

A few moments later Vic and Gloria had moved a few yards up the creek bank. 
They lay down on the blanket Vic had snitched from Dudley. For a bit, they 
stared at each other, then chuckled. Vic rolled over and kissed her enticing 
lips. 

"Aren't we devils?" she kidded. "Will Lissa raise hell with you?" 

"Naw," he muttered. "We got an agreement, sort of. I guess we'll marry 
sometime, if her old man doesn't queer it. But chances are he's too busy out 
screwing some fresh cunts to bother us. Anyway, Lissa and I have decided to 
get our kicks before we tie up." 

"Wise boy," she said. "And you know I feel the same way about it. Screwing 
is great fun, and I've heard that our fucking machine never wears out." She 
shrugged. "But I imagine the same old prick and pussy, night after night, 
can get mighty tiresome." 

"Maybe, babe," Vic said, "but let's get going. 

This first time is going to be something else." 

"Sure, big man." She guided his hand to her crotch. "And don't let my little 
hungry trap snap you. It's got curly red hair protecting it, but you can 
find a way through it, if you try." 

"I'll try, babe, I'll try hard," he laughed. "And if I pass out from sheer 
joy, just slap my face." 

She spread her marble white thighs and Vic crawled in between them. Her eyes 
gazed deeply into his and her soft fingers caressed his hair. Her 
cherry-tipped boobies pressed against his small ones, and she worked against 
them. His whacker was jerking, his balls drawing up. 

Gloria's enticing arms went about his shoulders and her sweet lips and 
tongue found his. 

"Vic, honey," she murmured, "I've been nuts about you ever since I saw you 
in the store. If you'd asked me for a date right then, I'd have ditched that 
other guy and begged you to screw me." 

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "That hot, huh?" 

She said nothing, but her remark made him feel swell all the way from his 
ass to his Adam's apple. 

Gloria arched her back, twisted her hips and raised her lovely breasts. Vic 
spanked her fascinating nipples, thrusting savagely with his tongue. She 
moaned and squirmed. 

"Jesus, big man, that's so good!" she gasped. "Keep doing it!" 

He did, and reached over and turned her on her belly. He put his hands 
beneath her and pulled her up tight against him. She was on all fours, her 
ass writhing and pushing. 

"Okay, Gloria?" he asked. 

"Any way you want it, honey." 

She rested the front of her alluring body on her elbows. Vic moved in tight 
behind her and let his whacker's pulsing head nuzzle the twitching lips of 
her enticing pussy. He clamped his hands under her pelvis and pulled her 
back hard against him. He felt his prong, hard and stiff, pushing into her 
creamy cunt. Her inner muscles pulsed and clutched like the grasping fingers 
of a miser. Jesus, they felt good! His balls jerked up and his whacker 
leaped. 

Holding her tightly, Vic started thrusting in and out. Her seductive pussy 
fitted him like a tight glove. 

In a minute, Gloria's whole tantalizing rear was twisting and pumping. She 
was meeting Vic, thrust for thrust. Vic was hot as a rocket, but Gloria 
seemed hotter, if that were possible. His prick still felt as if it were 
being clutched in miserly fingers, but this time the fingers seemed to be 
burning. 

Gloria began thrusting at him so furiously he feared he'd come before he 
wanted to, and before Gloria could shoot her cream. She was such a dazzling 
female he couldn't bear to cheat her. And he knew the orgasm would be much 
more ecstatic if they could climax together. 

Now, she was starting to twist and beat the blanket with a fist. She was 
rolling her head from side to side in a frenzy of sexual ecstasy. He knew 
her rocket was just about to whiz off. 

So Vic really bore down. Then he felt his whacker jerking and gushing. His 
balls drew up so tightly he feared they would squeeze up into his belly. His 
load hit Gloria just as she was making her pussy leap and clutch his 
spurting cock. They came together. In a moment he started to pull out. 

"No, no, Vic!" she cried. "Don't leave me. Let it stay in a minute." 

She kept to her hands and knees until his whacker got as flabby as the neck 
of a gone gander. He could still feel the pulling and pulsing of her pussy, 
trying to revive his cock. At length, her enchanting body collapsed on the 
blanket and he rested his head on her tantalizing ass. 

For a time they lay there, breathing hard and relaxing. Then he moved up 
beside her. She promptly draped her body over his and kissed him lovingly on 
the cheek. 

"Vic, big man," she whispered, hoarsely, "I'm going to take you away from 
Lissa. I don't give a fuck what Dudley or any other stud says. You got to be 
mine." 

"Hey!" Vic stared at her. "You really liked it, didn't you? I was afraid my 
hammer wasn't big and heavy enough to-" 

"It's fine, Vic, fine. You really banged my spot." 

Looking at her again, he felt a creepy stirring in his balls. Damn! he 
thought, J can't believe it, but I'm getting horny again. 

"Oh, Vic," she cried. "Wonderful! You're getting-" 

"Yeah, doll," he muttered, "it doesn't know when it's licked. It's begging 
for more action." 

She got on her knees, pressing her flawless boobies against his thigh and 
taking his prick between her curving lips. Up and down, repeatedly, her 
radiant head moved on his stiffened cock, while her soft fingers spidered 
his balls. Gently, he withdrew his prick from her lips and mounted her. Her 
hands went beneath her head and she opened her sleek thighs. Again, Vic saw 
that ravishing pussy, a work of art. Its pinkish lips were quivering and 
Gloria's flowerlike back was arching. 

In one savage thrust he pushed his prong all the way in. She yelped, then 
chewed his neck violently. 

"Lordy, big man," she moaned, "that kissed my joy spot. Do it again, just 
like that." 

But he didn't. He wanted this ecstatic fuck to last as long as possible. He 
even thought of putting it to soak for a couple of minutes, but Gloria would 
have none of that. Her feet flashed up and locked around his ass. "Move in, 
honey," she begged. "Move closer." 

So Vic pushed his limit repeatedly, faster and faster, till his prick and 
her pussy were hot. She began whimpering and squirming. For a moment Vic 
thought he wouldn't be able to stay put, but her thighs tightened like a 
vise and he grabbed her buttocks with both hands. They bucked and fucked in 
a wild orgy of voluptuous abandon. 

"Now, Vic, oh, now!" Gloria squealed. "I'm coming! Hold me tight, lover!" 

They again came together in long, gasping, moaning cries . . . 

After that, Vic felt so pooped that he let his face sink between Gloria's 
dazzling boobs and breathed their tantalizing fragrance. For a little while, 
they lay there, breathing jerkily and gradually recovering. 

Chapter Thirteen 

I'd been watching Lissa pretty closely for some time, and I suspected she'd 
been getting her sex, but I didn't dare say anything to Nell. She was 
already sore at me, somehow blaming me for the way we believed Lissa was 
carrying on. Nell was still sleeping downstairs on the couch. I had a hunch 
she was aching to be screwed, but would she admit it? Not on your life! You 
know how stubborn females can be. 

"Wade," she told me one morning over my coffee, "what else can you expect? 
She's exactly like you were when you were catting around." 

That made me mad, but I didn't get back at her. I figured she'd get to 
craving a lay before long, she'd come upstairs and crawl in bed with me. 

But she didn't, and my balls got so overloaded that I started dreaming about 
pussy. In my dreams I'd have a swell cutie all lined up, hot as a boy's 
pistol. But just when I got ready to feed her eight inches of stiff stick, 
I'd wake up with a terrific hard-on. I've never been able to figure out why 
the hell this always has to happen. 

But I still think the females have a way of instinctive communication, 
especially where screwing is concerned. If they haven't, how come this Peggy 
King, working in the office next to mine, started giving me the hot sign? 
Had Gracie told her about my old monster? Certainly looked like it; but do 
all women crave a huge jock? Maybe not, but that seems to be the general 
opinion among us males. Anyway, on Saturday afternoon, after a nice shower, 
the air was sweet and cool. Man, it was going to be a swell night for a 
jazzing spree with this Peggy. We had agreed to meet about nine at the 
Rosebud Motel, ten miles out on Interstate Thirty. 

I got there a little ahead of her. When I saw her wheeling up in her compact 
car, my whacker started jumping and my balls twitching. When she got out of 
her car she was almost beside herself with anticipation. We had no trouble 
getting in. I signed the register as Mr. and Mrs. Bill Brown. The clerk was 
an insignificant little fart with eyes like a deceased mackerel. 

"Brown, eh?" he nasaled. "Had quite a few Browns this evening, but not too 
many Joneses or Smiths." 

"All right, guy!" I growled. "What number?" 

"Third cabin down, on your right." 

Inside the cabin, the air was cool and comfortable. Peggy stood there, 
breathing fast and twisting her fingers. 

"Calm down, baby," I told her. "Nobody's going to snitch on us." 

I started disrobing, but she didn't. She just threw her enticing arms about 
my neck and kissed me lingeringly. It was sweet and thrilling. 

"Just like that, eh!" I exclaimed. 

"I've wanted to do that for quite a while, big man," she blurted. "And you 
wouldn't even give me a tumble." 

"Well, baby," I said, fondling her alluring boob through her white blouse, 
"we'll just have to make up for lost time." 

Peggy was a tall, willowy cutie, dark haired and eyed. I was certain she 
must have all the cock-raising equipment in the book. 

"Hey, mister," she broke the silence. "A dime for your thoughts." 

"Do I have to tell you, Peggy? Skin out of those rags and let's get to know 
each other. And just call me Wade." 

I reached over and helped her shed her clothes. My gaze dropped to her 
delicate silken clad ankles. Then, naturally, my stares moved upward. 
"Peggy, babe," I said, grinning, "you didn't leave a damn thing at home, did 
you?" 

"I brought every sexy pound, Wade," she said, throwing her radiant arms 
about my neck and pressing her pelvis against mine. "And you, big boy, 
brought all yours along, too. God, man, what are you packing down there? A 
fire hose?" 

"Just one old monster, Peggy, but what are we waiting for?" 

We fell on the bed together. I stared at her fascinating body and her gaze 
took in mine. Her eyes bugged when she got another look at my whacker. "God, 
man, you sure all that's just one-" 

"Yes, doll. It's what nature hung onto me." 

I gasped, staring at Peggy's tantalizing body. Nature, I thought, must have 
been screwing three times a day when she created this gorgeous creature. The 
night light cast a soft glow on Peggy's face and perfect neck and shoulders. 
Her titties were large but neat, with no sag. Her nipples were little 
delectable mounds of ruby red, making me think of ripe cranberries. I had a 
wild urge to bite them, hard. Her stomach was flat and white as a silver 
plate and her hips flared slightly, just enough to make them delicately 
feminine. 

She was aching to be fucked, I could see that! I watched the muscles 
quivering just above the dazzling mat of curling hair, dark as a crow's 
wing. It was jealously trying to hide her enticing pussy. Its pinkish lips 
were parted and I had a feeling that they were waiting to snap shut on my 
prick. 

"Wade, baby," she murmured. "I'm a little scared of that big thing. You will 
take it easy, won't you?" 

I saw tiny beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her gaze moved down to 
my crotch and she caught her breath. "You will, won't you, big man?" 

"Of course, Peggy." I patted her superb ass. "I wouldn't hurt you for the 
world. I want to thrill you." 

I knew I was a damn liar. Hell, if she wasn't used to screwing, eight inches 
of hard cock rammed into her tight pussy would make her scream. 

Her firm boobies were touching my chest and her stiffened nipples raked 
mine. I got a strange sort of thrill from this. Then suddenly Peggy started 
trembling. I gave her a long look. Brother, was she scared! 

"I know it's hard to believe, Wade," she stammered, "but I'm a virgin." 

"But I thought-" 

"I know, honey. I talked big. I thought you liked girls who'd been-" 

"Stop fretting, Peggy. You're going to like it. Haven't you ever got your 
cookies at all?" 

She threw her arms about my neck and squeezed hard. "Not exactly. A couple 
of girls and I tried a few things once." 

By now my cock was going wild, my balls aching. Peggy a virgin? Was it 
possible, after she'd practically asked for a stiff prick? But she looked 
deadly serious and . .. 

"If you don't really want it, Peggy," I said, "I'll-" 

"Oh, I do, Wade, I do! I've dreamed that you would be the first man. Why did 
you have to go get married? I wish you hadn't, then I'd make you marry me." 

I grinned at her. "I don't crave to be jailed for bigamy, baby." 

Her enticing body was trembling against mine. 

So I tried to calm her down. I kissed her lingeringly and passionately, 
spanking her sweet tongue with mine. I ran my hands over her flawless back 
and shoulders, and cupped her boobs with soothing fingers. I kissed her 
nipples, bit them gently. They came to life like magic, hardening and 
standing out. 

"Wade, honey," she moaned, "that's marvelous. I feel it clear down to my 
pussy." 

My hands sneaked to her neat pelvis. She whimpered and pushed up. She hugged 
me tightly, and her hips writhed and tensed. I took her hand and placed it 
on the head of my throbbing stick. Her fingers closed around it and she 
gasped and moaned. Gently, I spread her white legs and her knees pointed at 
the ceiling. I eased in between her thighs and mounted her. She moaned again 
and clutched me wildly. 

Was she actually a virgin? 

I let the head of my prick ease through the dark mat of curly hair, which 
seemed to repel any invader. But it was out of luck. My whacker touched her 
ruby-lipped pussy then felt her clit. 

I took it very easy, felt the knob of my whacker enter her pussy just a 
little. She flinched, twisted her hips, then pushed up with her pelvis. She 
wanted more! I spanked her nipples again with a stiff tongue. She gasped and 
moaned, as my whacker went in a little farther. She'd been telling the 
truth: her little pussy was tight as that miserly fist. She kept pushing up 
and I felt the maidenhead. I thrust rather hard to break through, and she 
yelped and shuddered. 

I felt like pulling out, telling myself I was a horse's ass to pick her 
cherry, but she'd asked for it, hadn't she? 

So I gave one hard thrust and felt my balls strike her anus. Peggy had 
surrendered her sweet little cherry. An ecstatic thrill raced through me, 
all the way from my ass to my appetite. Peggy's pussy grasped my old monster 
like a chippy does a ten-dollar bill. 

Had I better stop? No, I thought. Anyway, once a stiff prick gets past the 
knob, it never comes out till it speaks its piece. 

So I clutched her hips and spread her alluring thighs wider. Her tantalizing 
legs locked about me. Her dark eyes were closed tightly, and her face was 
pale and rigid. I began plunging in and out. She was moaning and pounding 
the bed with her small brown fists. 

"Wade, honey," she cried, "nobody ever told me this could be so wonderful! 
You're mine, Wade. No one else is ever going to have you!" 

Phew! That would take a bit of doing, but I said nothing, just kept humping. 
My balls were about to jerk up into my belly. That old telltale fluttering 
arose in my bag. 

"Do it with me, Peggy, now . . . now . . ." 

"I am, honey. Something wonderful is . . . Oh, I feel it. I must be about to 
come . . . Wade .. . now!" 

A moment later, she uttered a sharp little cry and her body went tense, as I 
felt my old monster spurting cream deep inside her pussy. 

Later, I pulled out and went to the bathroom. My prong was somewhat worse 
for wear. Peggy had indeed been a virgin. The knob of my prick proved it. I 
washed in cold water and went back to her. She rested on her belly, her cute 
little brown spot grinning at me. She smiled and sighed, then murmured. 
"Wade, big man, I hope I get pregnant, really I do. I'd never stop loving 
you and I'd treasure our baby. I don't care if you are married. I'd make you 
get a divorce and marry me." She laughed, and after a moment, added, "And 
I'd make you screw me a dozen times a day!" 

"Back up, honey, " I said, shuddering, "not that many." But kick Nell out 
and marry Peggy? It just wasn't written in my book. 

Chapter Fourteen 

In a few days Floyd started feeling sorry for Wade. He sensed that his 
friend wasn't getting his jollies on the home front. So what to do? Simple: 
get several of the broads together and put on a screwing match to end all 
screwing matches. 

And female methods of communication, especially, where a fuck party is 
concerned? Who can understand them? No use trying, Floyd thought. Ill just 
pass the word to Martha and Edna and they '11 do the rest. We '11 all meet 
at the Aloha and tip off the clerk that we're not to be disturbed no matter 
how wild things get. 

And that's exactly what he did. By nine Saturday night the adult adulterers 
began drifting into Floyd's snazzy quarters in the Aloha. The first gals to 
arrive were Martha and Edna, looking very chic and eager. Wade, of course, 
had gotten there ahead of time. Then came Gracie. Damn, he thought, I hope 
she doesn't pass out again. Next came Peggy and Fawn, eyes sparkling, lips 
parted. 

"That makes seven of us," Floyd said, grinning. "Five chicks and two cocks." 

"And monsters, if you ask me," Martha chirped. 

"Only two boys for five girls?" Edna said, frowning. 

"Honey, they're not boys," Fawn declared. "They're men, in a big way, if you 
know what I mean." 

Edna nodded. "Yeah, honey, how well I know!" 

All seven were gathered around the room, some sitting on the couch, one on a 
chair and two lounging on the gaudy rug in the middle of the floor. For a 
couple of minutes they sat there, smiling at one another and shooting the 
small talk. Then things started to hum. Every one present was eager to 
fondle a stiff prick or a pulsing pussy. Floyd brought out a bottle of 
whiskey and popped the cork. Then he dug up some highly spiced cookies and 
passed them around. 

Before too long everybody started getting undressed and soon all were naked 
as a baby bird's ass. They began wandering about the room, the girls toying 
with Floyd's and Wade's sticks, which instantly grew to full size. This 
brought out yearning feminine sighs and deep breaths. The two men returned 
the caresses by fondling the girls' pussies. 

Fawn, especially, captured Floyd's gaze. To him, she was tantalizing, 
especially in the nude. Wade, of course, had seen her before. Her hair 
looked dark as deep shadow in a rain forest; her crow-black eyes were 
sparkling with desire; and her full, kissable lips were red as wild 
cherries. She seemed radiantly alive, and the good liquor and male 
companionship heightened her sexual need. She perched her enchanting naked 
body on the couch, half-reclining, propped against the silken, pink pillows. 
Her skin looked white as freshly fallen snow, but certainly not as cold. Her 
flawless titties stood up firm and neat. In the soft ruby light, her nipples 
appeared red as blood and large as cherries. 

Floyd eased down on one end of the couch. Fawn rested one alluring leg over 
his hairy thigh, the other touching the thick rug. Playfully he teased her 
by tickling the sole of her foot. Chuckling, she jerked it up and gently 
kicked his cheek. He laughed and clutched her delicate ankle, then seized 
her other foot. She pretended to try and get free, but only succeeded in 
showing her enticing pussy for all to see. Had it been a camera they might 
have gotten their picture taken. 

Floyd felt this was going too slow to suit the bunch, so he released her 
foot and started spidering her belly with his free hand. Then he released 
her other foot and his arm went beneath her enchanting buttocks. She 
whimpered and pushed her pelvis up, up. His lips began melting onto her 
neck, shoulders and boobies. Then he took each gorgeous nipple between his 
lips and drew on it. She gasped and moaned, reached down to grasp his old 
monster. In a moment he fell between her alluring thighs. His ass started 
bobbing, his bag jerking back and forth. In a couple of minutes, Fawn and he 
were groaning and crying out in a violent orgasm. This left Wade with a 
throbbing eight inches of stiff cock. Instantly, the other girls started 
shoving one another aside to fondle it. But not for long. 

Abruptly, Fawn sat up and called out: "Look, everybody! Over there on the 
rug near the chair. Wade and Martha. Are they getting cozy! That big man 
doesn't waste time." 

And Floyd saw that he wasn't. Their hands were moving, groping and caressing 
each other's most sensitive parts. Wade's fingers were inching toward 
Martha's tantalizing pussy. Was it going to be good? Foolish question. She 
was the only cutie he hadn't fucked. All pussy is good, only some is better 
than others. 

Martha's soft fingers were creeping toward his pelvis, and in a moment had 
grasped his pink-knobbed monster. She started working it up and down. Her 
hand could cover only about half of it. Floyd blew out his breath and 
muttered, "That's too much cock for any one man." 

Wade kissed Martha lingeringly and passionately and whispered something into 
her ear. 

"Wonder what they're up to?" Fawn asked Floyd. 

"Silly girl! They're going to screw each other right here before the bunch." 

"And make the rest of us suffer, watching them," Edna fretted. 

Floyd couldn't stop watching them, though Edna, Grace and Peggy were all 
trying to crowd him for his next fuck. 

Martha lifted her knees and Wade leaned over so he could easily reach her 
tantalizing dark-haired pussy. She kept working his monster prick up and 
down and he rooted vigorously against her clit. She got her lips around the 
knob of his whacker, and they both began to lave and draw. In a few moments 
Floyd heard their muffled cries. But Wade wasn't through. Since being 
deprived at home, he'd stored up a lot of cream and energy. He lifted Martha 
bodily and carried her back to the davenport. There he sat her on his knees, 
facing him. She was whimpering and writhing. Then, in a moment she raised 
her ass and Floyd saw Wade's huge monster standing up like a flagpole. 
Martha was riding it like a circus performer. It seemed as if Wade was 
trying to buck her off, but Floyd bet he wasn't. 

Fawn nudged Floyd. "Look at Wade. He's getting to his feet." 

And he was, but holding Martha tightly in his arms. She was actually riding 
his long stick. He was no midget, and he carried her like a sack of 
feathers. He began to sing in a tenor as he stalked about the room. Every 
step he took bounced Martha on his prick, and Floyd knew they were getting 
hot. Finally, they rolled onto the thick rug, nipping, fighting and yanking 
each other's hair. They'd come together. 

Then everybody had a big shot of whiskey and the festivities really went 
into high gear. Floyd and Peggy started screwing, and Wade was being pursued 
by the other females. Then Edna and Grace began a Lesbian pleasure hunt, and 
couples seemed to be lying everywhere. Screwing was going on in just about 
every position known to man and woman, and maybe to the old fork-tailed 
demon, himself. 

Chapter Fifteen 

Vic awoke late with a vile taste in his mouth. His head felt like twins, 
both thumping. 

"Hal's making those juicies too strong!" he muttered. "And I'd hate to see 
my old man when he lamps Hal's bill. He'll blow his stack!" 

He looked out the window. It was almost noon, according to the sun. It was 
fighting to shine through scudding clouds, driven by a stiff northeast wind. 
The leaves were whirling down from the trees, fleeing before the wind, 
seeming to chase themselves. Autumn leaves? He remembered the song. Lissa 
had sung it for him. 

Imminent autumn made him think of school. Almost time to get out to the 
university and register. What was he majoring in? He laughed. Cunts maybe! 
He'd switched subjects a couple of times when failure threatened, but right 
now the main thing was to graduate and get off the lousy campus. "Business 
administration might do," he told himself, "or civil engineering, or how 
about voice?" He grinned. That might be the ticket. Lissa was majoring in 
voice and musical theory. It might be a good idea to tag along with her. He 
had told Gary and Dudley that she was cold, but lately she'd fired up. And 
right now there were no other more tantalizing dishes available. 

He flopped over on his side and frowned. Then he stuck out his tongue and 
glanced at it in the dresser mirror. What a tongue! Had someone rubbed chalk 
into it? Well, there was only one cure for that. He squirmed out of bed, 
trudged to his clothes closet and reached up with his left hand until his 
fingers touched glass. There was a gurgling sound as he tipped the bottle. 
He screwed the cap back on the fifth and shivered. 

"Good thing my old man don't know where this is," he muttered. "He'd pour it 
down the sink or maybe drink it." 

And that was more than Lissa's pater would do. The old square! And Lissa's 
mother? What a broad! They both thought if a guy crossed home plate with 
their whistle chick he must march to the altar and chuck his freedom. Why, 
this sort of stuff had been going on for a long time. These oldsters were 
sitting around with their heads in the sand, not knowing what this 
generation was up to. So far as that was concerned, man, look at what 
happened when he was a mere kid, hardly dry behind the ears. 

Warmed by the liquor, he sat on the edge of the bed and his mind went back 
to his twelfth birthday. 

Her name was Jenny Marlin. She was a big-legged, brown-eyed kid with black 
hair and white skin. She was a curious little girl. Her dark eyes would open 
wide when she saw something unusual. 

One summer day Vic and she were playing down in the hollow west of her 
house. This part of town was sparsely settled, and the kids had free range. 
The sun was hot. Vic and she were seated in the shade on the bank of a 
creek, watching the minnows cavort in the water. One minnow kept chasing 
another. Jenny frowned and poked at it with a stick. 

"Mean little fish," she pouted. 

"Naw, he's not mean." 

"He is so! He's fighting the other one." 

"Silly!" Vic chided. 

She hit the water with the stick. "All right, smarty! What?" 

"He likes the girl fish. He's trying to make her like him, too." 

She stared at him. "You mean fishes are different?" 

"Sure, silly, just like boys and girls." Her eyes opened wide. "I've never 
seen a boy, that is without any clothes on." 

Slyly, he glanced around. "Would you like to?" She hesitated, turning her 
face away. "Well, maybe, if-" 

"All right. Come over here behind the willows. I'll take a bath in the creek 
and you can see for yourself." 

"Maybe I better not. Mamma will-" "Don't tell her. Come on!" 

She followed him behind the willows. In a few moments he was splashing in 
the water, the sun glistening over his lithe body. Then he stood up and 
faced her. 

She gasped. "You are different!" 

"Sure, silly. Don't you know anything?" He started toward her. "Wait! Don't 
run off. I got lots more things to show you. Don't you want to get smart?" 

But she was flashing up the hill toward home. 

Vic's dad had switched him when the story filtered down, but the punishment 
was soon forgotten, and Vic thought of different forms of amusement. 

He remembered the neighbor's dog, Watch. Watch was always hanging around the 
Miles' back door, making a nuisance of himself, watching for biscuits which 
Jenny, the black cook, would toss his way. He was a yellow mutt with soft 
brown eyes and a tail that was always wagging. And that wasn't the worst of 
it. He was a ladies' dog. The girl mutts seemed to have a fondness for him, 
or maybe, Vic thought, they just came around to share his handouts. 

One day Watch got tied up with a bitch and they couldn't break apart. They 
seemed fastened together in a way that should have been painful, but both of 
them seemed to be laughing, their pink tongues protruding. 

Vic grinned. "I'll fix that," he said, glancing at the wire clothesline, 
extending between two steel posts. 

Watch and his friend were pretty heavy, but Vic got an arm under each one, 
heaved them up and threw them astride the wire. Then he stood back and 
listened to them howl. 

"You mean brat!" the black cook shrilled, waddling down the back steps. "I'm 
fixin' to tell your pa on you. He'll whomp you good." 

Vic laughed and got out of her way as she hurried toward the clothesline. 
But before she reached it, Watch and his fucking mate fell to the ground, 
separated, and ran off yelping. 

"Shame on you!" the cook berated him, her face swelling. "Got a good mind to 
tan you, myself." 

He thumbed his nose at her and stood his ground. She glared at him, then 
shook her head and went back into the house. 

Elza Miles didn't punish him for it, shrugging it off as a boyish prank. 
Besides, dogs hanging around the back stoop were nuisances. And Watch 
wouldn't leave so long as cook kept doling out the biscuits. 

Vic got up and took another nip from the fifth. He laughed to himself. Kid 
stuff. He wouldn't do anything like that now. "I guess I'm not so bad," he 
told himself. "Got plenty of skins, rate high at all the shakepits, and am 
always the main stem at a party. The whistle chicks flock around me and I 
can fuck any one I choose." 

Yeah! He wasn't so dumb. Here he was, carrying Lissa Excell on credit, and 
taking his pay out in trade. Not all cunts got to ride around in imported 
jobs like his. He'd offered to let Lissa drive it any time she wanted, but 
she was chicken behind the wheel. 

He looked out the window. Rain. Lissa didn't like to go out in the rain. It 
took the wave out of her hair, and of course, a lay on the golf course was 
out of the question. Besides, there were certain times when she made him 
keep his distance for a few days. Sometimes, these broads were a pain in the 
neck! 

He turned away from the window, walked to the mirror and fingered his thin 
beard. Not a bad-looking stud! In fact, a striking fellow! And the beard 
made him look imposing. 

The cigarettes? He looked down at his nicotine stained fingers. The yellow 
trail had crept up almost to his wrist. So what? His old man had told him 
he'd better cut down or he'd burn a hole in his lungs. To hell with that! He 
grabbed his pack and stuck two cigarettes between his lips. His lighter 
clicked, he inhaled deeply and the two butts glowed. Ah, that was more like 
it! But Lissa? She refused to smoke. Might ruin her voice. Well, it took all 
kinds to make up the world, and they were all here, man! 

Chapter Sixteen 

I couldn't help remembering and wondering about Floyd's remark that my 
eight-inch whacker was too much cock for any one man. Oh, I'll admit I had 
to go slow with Nell when we were first married. I thought for a while I 
might have to wear a rubber block to shorten my stroke a couple of inches. 
But we soon got adjusted and if I held back she'd tell me to give her all of 
it. And, as I've said, I never argue with a female where pussy is concerned. 

But I was in for a surprise! I got the real lowdown on prongs one day when I 
went to get my annual checkup from Doc Dawson. 

Doc was an ornery old fart, relishing a new piece of tail occasionally. In 
fact, one time, some of us caught him in the act. He had a cute broad on his 
table with her knees cocked up and her tantalizing pussy giving his sly old 
eyes a treat. His bald dome was glistening with sweat. He had his whacker 
out, stiff as a poker. He would jam it into her, then draw the table back 
and forth to get his stroke. How come we knew all this? Well, we were 
standing on a table outside his locked office door, peeping over the 
transom, when a table leg broke and we tumbled to the floor. The office gal 
was out and there were no waiting patients. 

After Doc got rid of his lady friend, he called us in and gave us merry 
hell. 

"You bastards!" he raged. "You sneaking, lousy bastards! I was only a couple 
of strokes away from shooting my wad into that marvelous pussy when you guys 
fell off the table, making me jump and pop off into thin air." 

At that, Doc was a swell egg. Right now, he was staring at my jock. "Isn't 
that thing ever going to shrivel up, Wade?" he asked, grinning. 

"I hope not, Doc. But tell me, is it really too much cock for one man?" 

"Well, maybe," he said, hesitating. "It all depends on where you're going to 
hide it. But I do know of one whacker that's a lot bigger." I stared at him. 
"You got to be kidding!" "No, Wade." He shook his head. "I'd tell you about 
it, but you know I'm not supposed to gossip about my patients." 

"Right, Doc," I said, as he got ready to listen to my chest with his scope. 
"But I'm curious. I wouldn't breathe a word to a soul." 

"All right, if you'll keep your big mouth shut, but this penis of John's is 
a sight to behold. It simply isn't human. It's damn near a foot long. John's 
daddy must have been kin to a horse." 

"I pity the poor guy," I said. "That's worse than having a midget stick like 
some of my short-peckered friends." 

Doc looked at my throat. "That's right, Wade, anyway, in case you don't know 
it, a female's main thrill comes from a little muscle just behind her 
clitoris. John would be digging too deep. You know he married a little girl 
not too long back, and he jammed her uterus way out of place. We had a hell 
of a time getting it back where it belonged. As you know, she gave him the 
gate, and I don't blame her. I'll bet she'll be scared to death of any prick 
from now on." 

"But what'll John do? I mean, how'll he get his cookies off?" 

"Expect he'll pull his pud once in a while. But you know that can be mighty 
lonesome, as the kids tell me." 

"Kids, Doc?" 

He felt the glands in my neck. "That's right, Wade. My own boy and his pal 
were out squirrel hunting one evening and darkness caught up with 'em. They 
were passing John's cottage-he lives on an acre south of town-and they spied 
on him. The stinkers! I gave 'em hell for it." 

"And they saw plenty?" 

"And how! Wade, you sure you'll keep mum if I tell you what it was?" 

"Absolutely, Doc, you know me." 

"Yeah, I do." He grinned. "Anyway, the youngsters parked down the gravel 
road a piece from John's house, then sneaked up to it. It was dark, but they 
saw a lantern glimmer in John's stable. It was black as pitch outside, so 
they tiptoed behind the stable and peeked through a big crack." 

"Caught old John jacking off?" 

"No, not that, but they saw something they'd never dreamed of. There stood 
John on a big stool behind his little Shetland mare. He had that ungodly 
penis out and was massaging the mare's slit with it." Doc paused and blew 
out his breath. "And here's the tough part to believe: that little mare was 
holding her tail up, looking back at John and whinnying!" 

"The hell!" I exclaimed. "Looks like she was used to getting it." 

"No doubt she was. And she was going to like it." 

I slipped my pants on. "And did John-" "He didn't miss it. He rammed that 
penis in all the way to his balls and started hunching and farting like a 
horny stud." 

"And did they get anywhere with it, or-" "It seemed to thrill both of 'em. 
The youngsters told me that after John squirmed and pumped for a minute or 
two, he shouted and grunted like a boar, then wilted and slumped on the 
mare's rump. She whinnied again, and twisted her neck to look at him. The 
kids said she seemed to be grinning!" 

I buttoned my shirt. "Doc," I said, shrugging, "can we actually blame the 
poor guy? Nature handed him a dirty deal, hanging a monster cock on him that 
no woman could take without screaming." 

Doc straightened his stooped shoulders and shook his head. 

"You're right, Wade. John really can't be blamed. He'd have to hunt through 
all the whore houses from hell to breakfast before he could find a 
prostitute willing, or able, to take him. That penis of his, it's a crying 
shame!" 

"I pity the poor guy, Doc." 

"So do I, Wade. Now you're sure you won't-" 

"Cross my heart, Doc. I never heard a thing you said." 

"Good! And I've told those youngsters if they spill a word about John, I'll 
castrate them." 

On my way home, I couldn't get John out of my mind. He was really to be 
pitied, but it made me a bit nauseated to think of the way he was getting 
his jollies. Yet, I realized that not all of us get our rocks off every time 
we crave. And that included me! 

Chapter Seventeen 

After that thrilling night behind the willows, Lissa and Gloria got quite 
chummy. There seemed to be something very appealing and relaxed about a 
joint fucking match that developed friendship easily and naturally. They 
started taking in movies together and going to Willow Springs for a dip when 
Vic and Dudley weren't available. 

Late one warm evening they stayed indoors at Gloria's snazzy little 
apartment and played love and rock records. One record was especially 
exciting, and when it stopped playing Gloria blew out her breath and cupped 
her titties through her blouse. She got up from the davenport, shuddered and 
began taking off her clothes. 

"Damn it, Lissa!" she blurted, "I need, well, can't you guess what I need?" 

"I don't have to guess," Lissa said, sighing. "My cookies are begging to 
come out of the jar, too. I don't want them to get stale." 

"You said it, honey," Gloria answered, taking off the last stitch of her 
clothes. She spun before the mirror then faced Lissa again. 

"I need a good, stiff prong," she declared. "Wonder why Dud and Vic haven't 
been around for the last couple of days." 

"Last I heard they were driving Vic's big car to a baseball game down 
state." 

"Well," Gloria said, sitting naked beside Lissa on the gayly colored 
bedspread, "I guess we'll just have to get our jollies without 'em." She 
gave Lissa a searching look. "You game, honey?" 

Lissa shrugged. "Why not? It will be something new to me, but so what? Let 
me get my clothes off. It's nice and warm in here." 

Gloria laughed. "Honey, it'll be hot before we get through!" 

Lissa skinned out of her clothes, then posed before the mirror, gazing at 
her dazzling figure. 

Gloria stared at her. "Honey, you got it, and I mean it in a big way. No 
wonder Vic's pecker is always poking against his zipper when he's with you." 
She sighed and blew out her breath. "Come on, hon, let's see what we can 
do." 

She got up, turned off the bright light and switched on the ruby nightlight. 
Then she sat down beside Lissa. They embraced and rolled onto the springy 
bed together. Gloria started kissing Lissa's enticing lips, her plump cheeks 
and her flowerlike throat. Then to make certain Lissa was enjoying herself, 
she pushed her face into her friend's beautiful golden hair. This forced 
Lissa's face down between Gloria's flawless titties. The bright moonlight 
was shafting across the bed, overriding the rosy nightlight. 

Gloria pressed her tantalizing boobies against Lissa's lips. Lissa kissed 
them and drew and laved a large cherry-hued nipple. 

"Lissa, honey," Gloria murmured hoarsely, "I love that." 

Lissa said nothing, keeping her lips on Gloria's nipple. 

After a few moments, Gloria urged Lissa to turn on her back, then bent over 
her and kissed her lips and throat. 

"Lissa, honey," she exclaimed, "I'm nuts about you. Why did we have to wait 
so long before meeting?" 

"I'm glad we did, finally," Lissa said. "I go for you, too, Gloria." 

Gloria's kisses sent flashes of overpowering desire through her body. 

"Love me, honey," Gloria murmured, fondling Lissa's back and spidering the 
alluring flesh of her buttocks. 

"Now just lie still," she went on, "and I'll try to give you the most 
wonderful thrill you've ever had." 

"Will it be anything like having a man?" Lissa asked. 

"Of course, honey, maybe even better. And you won't get stuck with all his 
cream!" 

The next moment Gloria started kissing Lissa again, moving her velvety lips 
all the way from Lissa's tantalizing, white thighs to her luscious lips. Her 
soft fingers fondled the golden curls, partly concealing the pink lips of 
her box. 

Lissa writhed and moaned. She couldn't lie still. 

Her hips twisted on the spotless bed sheet, and all the time Gloria's hot 
lips ranged up and down over her thighs and stomach. Finally, her lips 
settled on Lissa's pussy and she laved and tongued it. Then she clutched 
Lissa's neat buttocks in both hands and spanked her clit with her stiff, 
probing tongue. 

Lissa's alluring thighs relaxed and she clutched Gloria's head fiercely and 
strained it to her. Lissa realized her moment was imminent, but wondered if 
it would be as thrilling as when Vic was screwing her. Then she could think 
of nothing except the ecstatic thrill that was building up in her pelvis. It 
was hot and breathtaking. 

"Gloria, Gloria!" she cried, "do it! Do it hard. I'm just about. . . Oh, 
now, now honey! Oh, God, I'm going to faint!" 

And she did. When she came to, Gloria was gently slapping her cheeks and 
lying partly upon her. Gloria started kissing her lips in little dabs. One 
of Lissa's flawless thighs was clasped between Gloria's, and she was moving 
her pelvis in little suggestive palpitations. 

"Lissa, honey," she moaned, "if you really love me, you'll do something to 
ease my suffering." 

" You mean for me to-" 

"Yes, Lissa," Gloria begged. "Kiss me, kiss me like I've kissed you, and 
make me climb the walls as you did." 

"I've . . . won't it be-" 

"Not at all, honey. You'll be surprised. Please, Lissa!" 

Gloria turned over and Lissa crowded her face down between her friend's 
enticing thighs. She laved and drew upon Gloria's alluring pussy in a way 
that she hadn't believed possible. It was sweet and thrilling. 

"Put your tongue inside, Lissa," Gloria begged. "Thrust hard. Make me 
thrill." 

She grasped Lissa's golden-hued head with both hands and pressed it against 
her pelvis. Lissa's tongue thrust hard and fast, and in a few moments, 
Gloria gave a sharp cry. Her body stiffened and she pounded the bed with her 
fists. Lissa glanced down at her friend's tantalizing pussy. Its lips were 
quivering, apparently eager for more thrills. 

In a few moments, an odd thing occurred. Gloria lifted one of Lissa's legs 
over her own titties. Her hands went to Lissa's alluring buttocks and Lissa 
felt Gloria's seeking tongue glide into her enchanting pussy, and though, at 
the time, she didn't know what it was called, she later learned it was a 
thrilling sixty-nine. Both girls came at least three times before breaking 
their embrace. 

After that, they lay there relaxing and murmuring sweet words to each other, 
words that inevitably follow the ecstasy of mutual sexual gratification. 

For the moment, thoughts of Vic and Dudley never entered their minds. 

CHAPER EIGHTEEN 

Nell kept after me about Lissa and Vic. Of course, we both knew they were 
screwing, and Nell seemed to blame me for it. She kept telling me that Lissa 
was a carbon copy of her sex-crazy father. Well, I'll admit I like my nooky 
and have fucked plenty of other men's daughters, but when they screwed mine, 
that was something else. 

"You simply must do something about it, Wade," Nell told me one evening at 
the supper table. "You promised me you'd go to Vic Miles' father and make 
him keep Vic away from Lissa or tell him to marry her." 

I shuddered and shook my head. "I can't make Elza Miles do anything," I 
said. "He's hard as nails." 

"Well, Wade," Nell glared at me, "if you don't get him told and things get 
back to normal you can just forget all about-" 

"Yeah, Nell," I broke in, "you don't have to tell me. I might as well have 
my balls cut out!" 

"Don't be silly!" She threw her fork down. "I'm just not in the mood, and 
won't be till you do something about Vic and Lissa. And-" 

"Oh, all right, Nell. All right!" I jumped up from the table. "I'll go beard 
the old lion in his den!" 

When I entered the front office of the Atlas Building, most of the lights 
had been turned out. In the back room only two wire chiefs were working. I 
nodded to them, watching the circuit monitors as I walked by. I gazed at the 
long switchboard with its green and red cords, crisscrossing in a maze that 
only trained men could understand. The hum of motors reached my ears. There 
was a mild odor of heat rising. 

Slowly, I climbed the stairs to the sixth floor. No use taking the elevator 
for one flight. I rapped on the frosted glass of the door marked "Private." 
A dim glow came from within. No answer. I rapped again, louder. The door 
glass brightened and a voice said, "Come in." 

Elza Miles was seated at his desk, a long, wide one, its waxed surface 
shining. A desk lamp illumined some papers stacked neatly beneath it. "Oh, 
it's you, Excell. Sit down." I sat down opposite him. Elza Miles! There was 
something striking about the old man. His eyes were big and dark, his nose 
long. He kept up a continual sniffing. His red neck bulged against his white 
collar. His thick lips only partly covered his long teeth, yellowed by 
nicotine. He lighted a fresh cigarette and stared at me through a smoke 
cloud. "Something wrong on the line, Excell?" "No, sir." 

"Well, then?" he demanded. "It's a personal matter." The old man leaned 
forward. "Personal?" 

"Your son and my daughter." "Oh, is that all?" Miles relaxed. "I thought it 
must be something serious." "It is serious." 

"I suppose they've been playing Tom and Pussy?" 

"They've been intimate if that's what you mean." 

He laughed and shook his head. "So what? Surely you don't think they're the 
only unmarried couple at it in today's merry-go-round? Get onto yourself, 
fellow! The old moral code is down the drain." 

I was getting mad. "Maybe not altogether, sir," I retorted. "Anyway, I 
insist you call your boy's hand, make him stay away from my daughter. Either 
that, or make him marry her." 

The old man's eyes glittered. "Just a darn minute, Excell. Vic can't be 
hurting her. If it wasn't Vic, wouldn't it be some other punk?" 

"Punk?" 

"Sure! He's not worth the dynamite it would take to blow him to kingdom 
come!" 

"You talk like that about your own son, Mr. Miles?" 

"Facts are facts, fellow. I've given up on him." 

"All right, Mr. Miles. Just keep him away from my daughter." 

The old man waved his hand, and his teeth bared. "Forget it, Excell. The 
kid's only having his fling, just as you and I did. Maybe your little girl 
will be a good influence on him. Maybe he'll marry her and settle down." He 
sighed. "God, I hope so!" 

I got to my feet, my nerves jangling. I could hardly see Elza Miles through 
the fog of cigarette smoke. "Then," I said, "you refuse to keep him away 
from Lissa or order him to marry her?" 

He exploded in red-faced anger. "Hell, yes, man, and that's my last word! 
Far as I'm concerned, the file is closed!" 

"My file isn't closed, Mr. Miles." 

"And just what will you do?" His lips smiled but his eyes didn't. 

"If you don't stop your son, I will." 

He walked around the desk and towered over me. "Hands off Vic, Excell. Why 
don't you make your girl stay away from him?" 

I winced. "I'll certainly try, but I'm warning you to have Vic lay off her." 

Miles' neck stiffened. "You are warning me?" 

"I am." 

He backed off slowly, eyes blazing. "Excell, yours is an appointive job. You 
have no union protection. One word from me and the wall comes tumbling 
down." 

A chill hit me. A good job like mine didn't come easily, and I wasn't 
exactly young anymore. I was silent. 

Miles was cutting me with a black stare. He didn't speak. 

I stood up and reached for my hat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Miles. I lost my temper. 
Forget it." 

The old man sniffed. He walked around the table and sat down. He threw out 
his arms as if to rid them of something unpleasant. "All right, Excell," he 
said, sourly, "but let's watch it, shall we? Now, if you don't mind, I'm 
very busy." 

Out in the street, the buildings and traffic lights seemed unreal. I'd been 
humiliated almost beyond endurance. Yet I'd have to bend my back and take 
it. Miles' word was law. Another job? I knew it would not be easy to get, 
certainly not one as well paying I'd just suffered a browbeating to retain. 

Elza Miles had said, "The wall will come tumbling down." The words bored 
into my mind as I walked farther up Main Street. I went against a "Don't 
walk" red light, drawing a blast from angry drivers. 

Lissa? What would she do if and when I ordered her to stay away from Vic 
Miles? What would Vic do? Probably thumb his nose at me and accuse me of 
being the hypocrite that I was. Anyway, youngsters nowadays were 
unpredictable and used to having their own way. They would not accept 
frustration. Should I interfere at all? Perhaps I'd best keep silent and 
give them a chance to marry. 

I saw a passerby hesitate and stare at me under the street light. Did I look 
as upset as all that? "But," I told myself, "I'll have to try to stop Vic 
Miles. If I don't, nobody else will!" 

When I got home, I hesitated at the door of the living room. The lights were 
out and I heard Nell breathing unevenly. I didn't think she was asleep. 
Maybe there was a chance for relieving my hard-on. 

"Nell?" I called softly. 

No answer, though I heard her stir on the couch. I stood there for a moment, 
undecided. Then I tiptoed up the stairs to our bedroom, and sank to the edge 
of our bed. My head was aching and throbbing. I felt myself trembling, so I 
got up and started pacing the floor, as if that could help! 

It was a long time before I could sleep. 

Chapter Nineteen 

Well, for a couple of days after that browbeating from old man Miles and his 
threat to fire me, I felt like the north end of a horse going south. And 
Nell's refusal to let me pop off a few times surely didn't help any. I'd bet 
she was dying for the feel of my old monster, but admit it? Heavens, not! 
Are you kidding? And I'd be like a nutless mutt in the dog house until Vic 
and Lissa either busted up or got married. 

So what to do? Call good old Floyd from the corner pay phone. We'd screwed 
only two of the broads he had listed among the many in his not so little 
black book. 

"Still shut out at home, eh?" Floyd said, chuckling over the phone. "What a 
shame! How many squirts of cream have you churned by hand?" He laughed 
again. 

"None, you big prick," I said, finally. "That's kid stuff, too damn 
lonesome." 

"Yeah," he drawled, "yeah. I know what you mean." 

I waited a second, then said, "Floyd, my balls are positively aching. Could 
you look in your-" 

"I don't have to look in my book, son. I happen to know a couple of babes 
who are always sticking their necks out, looking for cocks like ours." He 
hesitated, then, "Say, Wade, how'd you like to try a little dark cutie? 
She's really something, a high yellow, with all the cock-teasing equipment 
known to man." 

"I don't know, Floyd," I said. "Would any of the color rub off on my 
whacker? Nell wouldn't-" 

"Cut the kidding, man. Want me to line it up, say about nine tonight at the 
Aloha?" 

"Sure, Floyd. I'll meet you there about a quarter to nine." 

So I told Nell I had to go back to the office for a while. I think she knew 
I was a damn liar, but maybe she felt a bit sorry for me and wasn't fretting 
too much if I got my nuts off with a new pussy. 

As before, Floyd was waiting for me when I chugged into the Aloha parking 
lot. 

"Broads already in my favorite cabin," he said. "They're positively begging 
to get fucked. Man, I hope your date doesn't faint when you ram that 
eight-inch prong into her." 

"What's her name, Floyd?" 

He slid closer to me in the car seat. "Her name is Cleta, Cleta Colby. She's 
the high yellow I told you about. Mine is Judy Gordon. She's a redhead 
fireball, but we'll probably screw 'em both before we're through." He 
grinned. "Judy's sure to want a crack at the monster of yours, once she sees 
it." 

And Floyd was right. When we sauntered into his cabin' the gals were fogging 
the place with cigarettes and prancing around like horny cats on a hot tin 
roof. 

"Well, it took you long enough!" Judy snapped. 

"Honey, we've been discussing the merits of all kinds of pussy," Floyd 
bantered. "And we've decided that yours and Cleta's are tops." 

"Yeah?" Judy grinned. "Okay, then. Did you bring all of it?" 

' "Sure, Judy, all seven inches for you, but wait till you lamp what my 
friend has brought for Cleta." 

Both girls looked at me, and Floyd quickly made the introductions. 

I saw Judy stare at the wad behind my pants zipper, then she glanced at 
Floyd. 

"Why only for Cleta?" she fussed. 

"Okay, okay," Floyd said, shrugging. "Wade's got enough for both of you, but 
he's going to screw Cleta first." 

Then we all laughed. I got a good look at my cutie. She was something to 
see. Even my eyes felt good, staring at her, to say nothing of the way my 
whacker was throbbing. Both girls now had their clothes off, and what I saw 
of Cleta set me getting my breath in short pants. 

She appeared to be in her early twenties, not tall, but slender and 
graceful. She was wearing a dark, curly wig, and I couldn't help drooling 
about the racy lines of her alluring body. Her titties were large and pear 
shaped and the nipples were a brownish-red, making my mouth water just 
looking at them. Her eyes were cat-green and her nose wasn't bulbous or 
flat. Her lips were full and sensual, and the twitching lips of her pussy, 
peeking through a mat of blue-black curls, seemed to be inviting the eager 
head of my prong. 

And Judy? Her legs were long and flawless. They were smooth as polished 
ivory and white as sugar. They ended in delectable mounds of alluring 
buttocks. Venus, with all her charms, could not have been more alluring. 
Judy's feet were small and pale as a pair of white doves. On each side of 
her cleft, her pubic hair curled out, bright red, finely spun and dazzling. 
Her stomach was flat and pale as a silver plate. 

"Hey, you fuckers!" Judy exclaimed, "how about getting started? We didn't 
come here just to sit around and look stupid, did we?" 

I could see that Judy was a born leader, as most redheads seem to be. By now 
we were all naked as a plucked duck's ass. 

"Hell, no!" Floyd growled. "Wade and I came here to fire our cannons." 

"All right, then," Judy said, "let's start with a four-way joy session, then 
do it in the usual way. Okay?" 

The three of us nodded and Judy took over. 

"Wade," she said, "you sit on that big chair by the piano, lean back and let 
that ungodly prick of yours stick out. Floyd, you lie flat on your back on 
the rug in front of Wade's chair." 

She hesitated a moment, then faced the other girl. "Cleta, you sit on 
Floyd's chest and I'll sit on his pelvis. All right?" 

"What are you trying to do, squash me?" Floyd complained. 

"You won't even feel it," Judy said. "You'll be too busy." 

We didn't quite get it, but we all chirped, "Okay," and carried out her 
orders. 

"Now, Cleta," Judy went on, "you take Wade's big prick in your mouth and 
lave and suck it. Floyd will tickle Cleta's clit, spank it, then push his 
tongue in deep. I'll perch on top of Floyd's prong and do all the work." 

"Work?" Floyd exclaimed. "You're kidding. It'll feel so damn good you'll 
think it's play." 

"I know that, stupid," Judy retorted, "but don't you dare go off 
half-cocked! Give me time to get my jollies when you do." She paused for a 
moment, then, "All set? Okay, go to it, and let's all try to come together." 

Well, there I was, leaning back in the chair with Cleta soft hot lips 
encircling the pulsing knob of my old monster and her stiff tongue savagely 
spanking it. Floyd was doing his stuff with Cleta's cunt, and Judy was 
bucking and twisting atop his big prick. 

I'll never forget those next few seconds. Only Floyd had previously enjoyed 
sex with the two Is, and everything was new to the other three of us. Of all 
moanings, groanings, sighings and shudderings, these reached the absolute 
zenith. I was trying desperately to hold back till one of the girls yelled 
that she was coming. 

And I did! We all came together. It was the damnedest thing you can imagine; 
Cleta swallowing my big stored-up load; Floyd getting her musty smelling 
dew; and Judy's pussy pulling in Floyd's spurting cream. 

In a few moments, we all started chuckling, then broke into a big laugh. 

"Damn!" Floyd gasped for breath. "What could you call that, a foursome 
orgasm?" 

"What else, big man," Judy said, "and now let's do it Mother Nature's way-me 
with you and Wade with Cleta. Okay?" 

"Okay," we chortled. 

"Wade," Floyd said, "you take Cleta into the bedroom and Judy and I will use 
the couch." 

In the bedroom it was quite cherry and comfortable for Cleta and me, still 
in the nude. 

"Wade," she stammered, "I'm all hot and bothered. That thing of yours is big 
as a ball bat. Won't it hurt terribly?" 

"Very little, baby," I soothed. "Don't you know that little old pussy of 
yours will stretch? Before you know it, you'll be thrilling so much you'll 
forget everything else." 

I took her in my arms and gently laid her on the bedspread. I lay down 
beside her and started caressing her titties. 

As I've said, they were very large for a small girl, but they were alluring 
and kissable. I lost no time in getting one of them between my lips, 
spanking the luscious nipple and fondling the other boob with gentle 
fingers. 

"Oh, Wade," Cleta murmured hoarsely, "that sends me. It feels so good." 

She hesitated for a moment, then, "Honey, would you mind putting your big 
thing up between my titties and working it a little? I get a big kick out of 
that." 

"You mean you want me to screw them instead of the usual-" 

"Yes, Wade, please!" Her soft fingers found my cock and tickled it under the 
head. "I can get my jollies like that, then I'll let you do it any way you 
like." 

This I couldn't quite savvy, but, as I've said, I never argue with a female 
where thrilling pussy is concerned. I flopped over on my back, with my old 
monster sticking straight up, looking for a nice hot den to growl in. 

Cleta crawled on me in a jiffy and squeezed my cock. I almost had to laugh 
when I noticed her hand covered only about half of it. She started working 
it between her big boobs and damned if it didn't feel snug and good. 

"There, there, honey," she whimpered, "that's thrilling me. Work with me, 
please, Wade. I feel it clear down to my pussy." 

So I did, and tried to help her by fondling her engorged clit and the lips 
of her tantalizing box. She was using both hands now, one cupping my balls, 
the other massaging her boobs with the head of my prick. And I wasn't too 
surprised a few moments later, when that old familiar feeling fluttered in 
my balls and I knew the moment was imminent. 

Cleta must have sensed it, too. She cried out, "It's going to happen, lover! 
Keep fucking my boobs, honey! Oh . . . oh . . . now . . . now . . ." 

I felt her cream spread over my fingers while mine gushed into the crevice 
between her luscious, big boobs. Skyrockets were whizzing in my head and I 
was nearly blinded by the flashing colored lights. Could an orgasm in such a 
spot on a woman's body actually be possible? Yes, it could and it had 
happened. And it was evident that Cleta had enjoyed it to the fullest 
without my whacker entering her pussy. 

Right now, Cleta and I lay there, cuddled up and murmuring those endearing 
phrases that invariably follow a good come. 

"And now, honey," she murmured, "you're the big boss and I'm the little 
helper with a warm wet pussy." She chuckled then added, "What's your 
pleasure, big man?" 

"Baby," I said, "I've always believed there's nothing better than a straight 
fuck." 

She chuckled again and turned on her back. She lifted her tantalizing, 
brown-skinned thighs and I crept between them. My whacker had revived and 
was pushing out to its normal eight inches. 

"Jesus, big man!" Cleta cried, as her soft fingers ran the length of it, 
"how will all of that big thing get inside my pussy?" 

"Easy, baby, easy," I lied. "You'll be surprised and thrilled." 

One of her hands came up and clutched my shoulder. Her sweet tongue sought 
mine and she nibbled my lips until I tasted blood. My hand went down and 
fondled her clit, still dewy from her first orgasm. It came alive, stiff and 
hard. This brought moans of pleasure from her alluring lips. I realized this 
fondling of her clit sent thrills through her entire body in breathtaking 
surges that spread out from her hot box. 

I continued to caress her engorged clit, her alluring thighs and her 
tantalizing stomach and torso. Her flowerlike neck and blooming body seemed 
to become electrified. She began murmuring sweet nothings, her lips close to 
my ear. 

For a moment I moved my hand from between her thighs. She clutched it 
instantly and put it back. 

"Don't stop now, lover, please don't!" she begged. "And keep laving my 
titties!" 

Her breath was coming faster, heavier. Abruptly she tightened both shapely 
arms about my middle. "Do it to me, Wade," she muttered, hoarsely. "I want 
that big thing, all of it. I don't care if it makes me scream." 

Well, I didn't want to hurt her, so I pushed the head of my old monster 
through that mat of tantalizing curly hair and felt it touch the quivering 
lips of her alluring pussy. She shuddered and her arms tightened about me. I 
could feel her body fairly vibrating with passion beneath mine. 

I pushed in a bit farther. She flinched and shuddered again, then said, "Oh, 
honey, it's going to hurt, but it feels so good, too! I'm scared!" 

Scared or not, I knew I had to do it; so I started a gradual downward stroke 
till I felt my balls strike her little brown anus. She yelped, then shivered 
and clutched me frantically. She began pushing her pelvis up, up until her 
buttocks were off the bed. Then she started a violent pumping in frenzied 
passionate excitement. 

"Oh, lover," she cried, "it doesn't hurt any more! I never dreamed it would 
be so wonderful! Screw me, honey, let yourself go!" 

So I did, pumping fast and deep. Muffled, animal sounds came from her 
throat. Her dark eyes were wide, staring, but apparently seeing nothing. Her 
features were rigid, a bit pale. I saw twin pulses throbbing in her temples. 
She dug her scarlet finger nails into my buttocks and strained my body to 
hers. I rode a bucking session of her pelvis until her features contorted 
and I knew she was near ecstasy. 

"Now, lover, now!" she cried. "Faster, faster!" 

And I did, feeling my old monster spurting his cream deep inside Cleta's 
enchanting pussy, while we came together. 

"Oh, Wade," she cooed, "you were so gentle, so mindful of me. 111 always 
remember that." She paused, tenderly kissed my lips, then added, "I want you 
again, honey. When can we-" 

"Maybe soon, Cleta," I lied, knowing that Nell couldn't keep me in the 
doghouse forever, even if she blamed me for Lissa's wild ways. 

"Make it soon, big man," Cleta said, as I got up and headed for the 
bathroom. 

"I won't forget you, baby," I called back over my shoulder. 

But I never screwed her again. 

Chapter Twenty 

Well, all things have to come to an end, good or bad, but lately mine had 
been better than good. 

It wasn't long before Lissa and Vic decided they'd screwed on the QT long 
enough, so they got married. Vic settled down somewhat and struggled through 
his college stint. His old man shelled out the coin to keep Lissa and his 
son in a snazzy apartment off campus. I understand they agreed to join a 
swap club of married couples if and when the home-front bed pleasures got 
stale. 

Nell has taken me back into her heart and bed and we've been screwing like a 
couple of horny newlyweds. I think she knows I latched onto a lot of strange 
pussy while I was in her doghouse, but she just smiles archly and I keep my 
big mouth shut. 

Everything considered, I have to say that a good time was had by all. 


End
