EPB-117  The Depraved Stockbroker
[aka 'STAG-195 The Screwable Stockbroker']
(Alice Mailer)


FOREWORD 

Although Women's Lib has offered equal opportunities to women once open to 
men, the fact remains there is a difference between the sexes, and as the 
French have so aptly observed, Vive Le Difference. And when dealing in the 
business world, whether a woman-likes it or not, she has the weapon of her 
body, with which men cannot compete. Although the men with whom they deal 
expect women to be every bit as efficient as their male counterparts, there 
are times when the woman is selected over a male competitor simply because 
the man selecting her wants more than business from her. 

Plunged into this world of high finance is Priscilla Penard, a sweet, 
innocent virgin, who not only loses her virginity quickly enough, but all 
her innocent notions, as well. She discovers there is a law of survival in 
business, and since she is better equipped to survive than most, she quickly 
adapts. 

Here then, laid bare, in every respect, is what goes on behind the veneer of 
what appears to be business and finance, for this book goes behind the 
scenes to show just how a woman can survive. And though most women might 
object, claiming this is not so, the fact remains, one rarely sees a female 
business leader about to have some kind of mental breakdown, no matter what 
she has done. It therefore follows, a hard businesswoman is tougher than the 
ordinary female, and though she might not admit anything openly, the fact 
is, knowing what she has to do to compete in a man's world, she will do 
anything. 

-THE PUBLISHER 

CHAPTER ONE 

Although she'd petted a bit in high school and college, Priscilla Penard had 
never expected to find herself in this position, this quickly. Modest, 
unassuming, and innocent, she had never been able to appreciate the fact she 
was a truly beautiful girl, looking much like Snow White of the fairy tale. 
Her face was stunning, absolutely beautiful beyond imagination, inspiring 
more than one boy in elementary and high school to have wet dreams about 
her. And yet, her innocence had been such, that even when she went out on 
dates while in college, the boys hadn't the courage to "defile" her. Her 
fluffy black hair and milk-white flesh made the hackles rise on the back of 
each boy's neck. But when the animal instinct was about to take over, even 
when the boy was petting her breasts through her blouse, her big brown eyes 
filled with pure innocence always stopped the boy. 

Priscilla had never developed large breasts, but what she had was large 
enough, and certainly firm enough. Her hips were not too large or round, but 
neither were they boyish. True, her behind was nicely shaped, as were her 
long, slender thighs and calves. Put together as she was, she made every 
male, from nine to ninety-nine, drool at the sight of her. 

Her parents had warned her about fooling around with men, but Priscilla had 
no idea what they meant by "fooling around" since neither of her parents had 
gone into any specifics. But what her parents had failed to take into 
consideration was her inner development, her emotional growth. There were 
nights when Priscilla had been unable to sleep because of certain inner 
tensions. And there had been no way to relieve this tension. No one had ever 
discussed mastrubation with her, and she had no idea what it was all about. 
So she continued suffering, at night. 

She had gone to a two-year business college after leaving high school, 
studying stocks, bonds, and mutual funds, and by the time she had completed 
her course, she had also completed the New York Stock Exchange tests, as 
well as the National Association of Securities Dealers tests, thereby 
gaining a license to sell all kinds of stocks and bonds, as well as mutual 
funds. 

Armed with these licenses, Priscilla had applied to the local branch of 
Jacobson & Co. for a job. The head of Jacobson, Ben Mallard, was in his late 
seventies. He'd already suffered one stroke, and he knew damn well that 
thinking about what he'd like to do to Priscilla could send his blood 
pressure soaring sky-high. Yet her apparent business abilities were too good 
for him to overlook. So he hired her, offering her a one hundred and fifty 
dollar draw against commission. 

Mallard turned Priscilla over to his second-in-command, Mike Marcus, and for 
the first time in his life, Marcus was sorry he was a religious man. He knew 
he would never be able to get work done with this raven-haired goddess 
around, so he turned her over to the head of the trust department, Paul 
Fink. And it was Fink who displayed all the conscience of a rattlesnake in 
his training of both Priscilla Penard, and another, equally attractive young 
lady by the name of Stephanie "Steffie" Sanders. Steffie was as blonde as 
Priscilla was brunette, and though her face lacked the pure innocence 
written all over Priscilla's, her mind was even more innocent. like 
Priscilla, Steffie took everything told to her at face value. So it was, 
that when Paul Fink explained the two girls should use their feminine 
attributes to make a man want to use either of them as a customer's woman, 
or stock broker, both girls accepted what he told them. He explained if they 
made a man feel good, he would always be relaxed around them, remaining calm 
when he heard their voices, no matter how adverse market conditions may 
appear. 

Fink, himself, was unable to believe he had lucked into these two virgins. 
More, he found it increasingly difficult to believe both girls were indeed 
virginal. There was only one way to find out, and today, on this Monday in 
early October, he intended to discover the truth. 

In order to do things a bit more easily, he felt it might be wiser to 
separate the two girls for a while, so he sent Steffie to the order 
department, where she was to learn how incoming and outgoing stock orders 
were handled. Alone with Priscilla now, he locked his small office door and 
sat on the vinyl sofa with her. He wanted her to give him a demonstration of 
how she could put a man at ease and make a better customer of him. 

Priscilla kicked off her shoes and curled up beside him on the sofa. She had 
gotten over her distaste of him after awhile, and in spite of his immense 
nose, looking almost exactly like a proboscis attached to the late Charles 
DeGaulle, she had also been able to overlook his nauseating personality and 
accept the fact that he was, after all, a man. 

Her fingers began lightly dancing up and down his back, from his neck to the 
base of his spine, then back again. Her tickling fingertips were a tender, 
feathery, gentle caress just lightly skimming across the shirt against his 
back, moving lower and lower, dipping below his waistline, and teasing the 
top of his coccyx. 

Paul was a middle-aged man, and his experience, until now, had been limited 
to his wife. This was understandable, considering how ugly he was. And his 
wife, who was, herself, an extremely attractive woman, had sincerely 
believed a man as ugly as he had to have a vibrant personality. She was 
certain he was cloaking it under a veneer of dullness. It was only after 
fifteen years of marriage that she realized he was every bit as dull as he 
appeared. By then, it was too late to do anything, because he was earning a 
good living as the head of the Jacobson Trust Department, giving her all the 
good things money could buy. She had been wise enough to continue 
squirreling away a lot of the money, and one day soon, when she had enough 
saved up, she'd be able to leave him and live comfortably all by herself. 

Already panting, Paul Fink found it difficult to believe a girl as sweet and 
lovely as Priscilla was as naive and innocent as she appeared. But just as 
he was as dull as he seemed, so was she, at that moment, as innocent as she 
appeared. Yet under his instruction, she was learning rapidly. 

At his order, she moved her hand beneath his shirt, tugging it out from 
behind, yanking on it until it was totally free of his pants. Priscilla 
didn't think twice about doing it, though this was going farther than she 
had ever gone with Fink before. Even so, he seemed to know what would be 
best to help her get ahead in her job. 

She seemed to know what to do, having done the same thing on top of his 
shirt, so often. Her fingers roamed through the thick forest of hair matting 
his chest. It seemed to make up for the lack of it on his head. 

Paul instructed her to remove his shirt, and Priscilla did so, being careful 
not to wrinkle it. Now, for the first time, his hands were beginning to 
roam, and he could feel her small, firm, quivering breasts under the 
sheerness of her blouse and the softness of her cotton bra. God! She had 
nice, solid tits. And she had enough sense not to stop him as his palms 
caressed them. 

Priscilla thought she ought to say something about his intimate touching, 
but then she figured other men might want to touch her there, and if it 
would help her sell more securities, well then, why not. Besides, it felt 
very nice. She gasped and rotated her lithe, slender body against his hands, 
feeling the way he pressed his palms into her stud-like nipples. The more he 
rubbed, the more her nipples lengthened, and when he instructed her to 
remove her blouse, she heatedly responded, pressing her bra-filled cups more 
solidly into his palms as the blouse slithered off. Oh God! He might be 
ugly, but he sure knew how to use his hands. 

And then she was kissing him, just as she kissed the boys with whom she went 
out on dates. Her thin, tasty lips were pressing against his large, swollen 
lips, and her mouth was open, welcoming his exploring tongue inside. She 
responded with her own tongue, licking and touching his teeth. Kissing a man 
seemed like such a nice way to make him do something. Pris enjoyed it. 

She felt the warmth of his chest against hers as he pulled her closer, and 
for a moment she missed the way his hands had caressed her breasts. Then she 
felt his fingers behind her, at the snaps of her bra, and suddenly he was 
loosening it, undoing it, and she felt it slide from her shoulders. Her 
warm, firm, small breasts were being titillated by the jungle of hair on his 
chest, and being kept warm, too. Her nipples felt the kinky hairs curl 
around them, teasing them, making them swell and grow even longer. God! The 
man had a way about him. 

Paul pulled her body away from his so he could glance down at her firm, 
white boobs. He admired their firmness, not caring in the least they weren't 
boulder-sized. On a girl like Priscilla, huge mammary development would have 
looked out of place. They were beautifully round and shaped perfectly, and 
he could see light blue veins tracing their way through her marble-white 
flesh. He liked the rich pinkness of her aureoles, each larger than a silver 
dollar and surrounding a vibrant nipple of equal pinkness. 

His fingers reached out and, between his forefinger and thumb, he was able 
to grip the enlarged nipple, marveling at how thick it was, considering how 
small her round breasts were. His fingers found it spongy and thickly 
resilient, and he squeezed it. Then he pushed the nipple into the round pap, 
ajmost as if he were pushing in a doorbell button. And like the button on a 
doorbell, it popped out the moment he released it. 

His heavy lips began kissing the smooth whiteness of her throat, though his 
right hand was constantly massaging each breast in turn. 

"Move your hands lower and start rubbing my thighs," he told her. 

Priscilla shrugged and did as she was instructed, letting her fingers move 
along his pants, pressing his thigh flesh underneath. His left hand guided 
her fingers to his inner thighs, leading them into his groin. Unused to 
touching a man there, Priscilla moved her hand back to his outer thighs. 

Taking his lips from hers, Paul said, "Pris, I'm doing this for your own 
good. You have to learn everything to charm a customer. Remember, this isn't 
like mutual funds, where once you make the sale, it's over. You have to sell 
him again and again. As long as a man has money to invest, you must be the 
one through whom he invests." 

"Look," she answered, "I'm grateful for all this, but tell me, what do you 
get from all this?" 

Paul swallowed the obvious answer. He said, "Well, many of the people who 
will be investing will want to start trusts, and that's where I come in. We 
set up investment accounts for them of great magnitude, and both you and I 
share in the commissions. Actually, I get an override on your commission, 
and you, in turn, will be getting a fat slice of the pie. But in order for 
you to convince these people to trust you, you have to show you trust them." 

"How do I do that?" 

"By allowing them to do as they please with you, so long as there is no 
pain. You'd be surprised how much you'll enjoy it, yourself. Actually, you 
have to do more than let them do things. You have to help them. Am I clear?" 

"I suppose," Pris nodded. 

Paul had no worries about making the girl pregnant. He had had a vasectomy 
only a year earlier, and it was virtually impossible for him to impregnate 
any girl. He also had a doctor who was a friend and who would prescribe the 
Pill for Priscilla, making her think they were special vitamins so she 
wouldn't think of herself as being in any kind of danger. By the time she 
lost her naivete, she would be grateful to him for making her take the Pill. 
Besides, the doctor was no less horny than Paul, and before prescribing the 
Pill, would also assure her he would like to invest in a trust fund. As it 
was, Paul Fink was the doctor's regular broker, and the doctor had no 
intention of giving any girl some of his business. The mere fact that Paul 
sent him a girl now and again assured Paul of continually receiving business 
from the doctor. 

Pris, as naive as ever, had no idea Paul Fink would screw her in more than 
one way. Highly impressionable, she sincerely believed what she was doing 
would help improve her business relationship with male clients. She felt 
grateful Paul Fink was taking the time to teach it all to her. 

Now, anxious to obey him, she moved her hands inward again, this time 
allowing them to linger a bit longer before sliding them outward. And each 
time her fingers moved inward, they touched against the long, hard, 
cylindrical swelling of his pulsating prick. Never having seen a man's 
penis, she had no idea what it was she was touching, and she was almost 
afraid to hold onto it. But when Paul assured her that what she was doing 
made him feel good, she seemed more delighted than ever, rubbing her hands 
against his phallic rod repeatedly, feeling the heat burning through the 
pants. 

Paul was beginning to pant at the way her fingers were working. He was 
aching to yank his pants down and free his throbbing cock so she could 
fondle and play with it. One day he would even convince her to suck it, and 
imagining the sight of her beautiful face surrounding his meat roll only 
made him that much hotter. 

Raising her torso a little, she pressed her hot, round tits into her face, 
letting the nipple of her right breast graze his lips. 

She sure learns fast, Paul thought. 

Opening his mouth, he stuck out his tongue and began licking, letting the 
point of his tongue circle the nipple again and again, tasting the 
goosepimply hardness of the rubber bud. Pris trembled, and tightly enclosed 
his head with both her arms, pressing his face closer to her hot tits. 

She trembled, thrilling to the heat of his breath as it ran up from her 
nipple to her breast. He had a nice way of kissing her there, and even 
though his nose was long, it didn't get in the way. 

Paul eased his head away from her body and grabbed at the two small bowls of 
flesh with his hands. Even though they were small, the breasts felt so full 
and firm. Because they were so small, he couldn't press them together, and 
the valley between them was very wide. But it was a lovely white, clean 
valley, and he was unable to resist leaning forward and licking into it with 
his long, hot tongue. He licked her white, warm flesh again and again, 
lapping all over. He moved his head from side to side, using his tongue to 
wet her white breasts all over except for the aureoles and nipples. For a 
moment he avoided touching them, knowing his tongue, lapping at her 
alabaster flesh, would have her aching for him to lick her nipples again. 

Pris began squirming and writhing, attempting to bring her nipples to his 
mouth, first turning one way to try and bring her left nipple to him, and 
then turning the other way and bringing her right nipple to him. But each 
time she moved, he moved his tongue, continually washing the whiteness of 
her flesh without touching the pink; driving her mad with shuddering lust 
she'd never known was inside her. His hands pushed hard on the outside of 
her small breasts in some kind of attempt to bring them together, so his 
licking between them might feel like a wet cock sliding into her cunt. But 
her firm jugs just weren't large enough. 

Now he began licking the pink caps of each aureole, still avoiding her 
nipple. It made her writhe all the more, and she wished he would lick the 
nipple. 

Finally, unable to stand it any more, she whispered, "My nipples. Suck my 
nipples." 

Now Paul realized how well his oral tactics were working. He was making her 
beg to have her nipples lapped. He was getting her so sexually aroused that 
she was becoming part of what was happening, and this was important. For if 
she enjoyed it, he would have no trouble using her to keep all his large 
investment clients happy. With a little bit of luck, he'd be able to entice 
Steffie into doing the same thing, and he would have a blonde and a 
brunette, thereby able to satisfy the tastes of most of his clients. And by 
the time Jacobson & Co. decided to fire the girls for lack of production, he 
would be "training" two more to take their place. He finally had it made 
after all these years. And he was going to enjoy it to the hilt. 

His tongue began lightly licking the nipples again, first the right one, 
then the left, compressing his lips around them one at a time, and pulling. 
He enjoyed watching each tit seemingly pull away from the rest of her body 
as his lips tugged on the extended nipple, strongly sucking the thick nails 
of elastic pinkness. 

"Ummmmmmm . . . " she moaned softly. 

Yes, he was getting to her, all right. He was really turning her on, 
arousing her, building the banks of flame higher and higher inside her. It 
was truly a pleasure, too. Her flesh was so clean and tasty. He had no idea 
his was the first mouth to suck these lovely nipples, otherwise he might 
have lingered there all day. 

As it was, he was sucking harder, working on the left teat, then the right. 
Pris caressed his ugly face between the soft palms of her hands, pulling his 
lips into her small mounds as if each were a tiny rubber cushion. 

Her nipples were like soft candy in his mouth, so chewy, so delicious, and 
he began biting into them, making her writhe and gasp even more. His teeth 
bit into each soft aureole as his wildly licking tongue caressed the flesh. 
And Pris became more and more aroused, writhing all the more, gasping all 
the louder, breathing that much more heavily. 

Remembering how much he had enjoyed her touching that thick piece of pipe at 
his groin, she moved her fingers lower, seeking his cock. At the same time, 
his own hot hands moved along her slender waist, sliding over her slightly 
swollen hip, moving gently across the front of her thighs until they reached 
the soft bulge of her own pelvic mount. 

Pris jumped at his touch. Although she was touching him in the very same 
place, she hadn't supposed he would attempt to touch her there. 

"It's all right," Paul Fink whispered to her. "It's all right. Don't be 
afraid. No matter what I do, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. It'll all 
feel nice. You'll see." 

Taking a deep breath, she fell back on the sofa, her head hitting the arm 
roll at the end. And he was with her, holding tightly to her, grasping her 
body to his, kissing her mouth with greater vehemence. 

Somehow, her hand was still on his crotch, feeling the thick, rope-like 
thing in his pants. 

"Open my zipper," he encouraged, whispering in her ear. "Take it out." 

He parted his thighs slightly, giving her better access to his groin. Her 
hand felt around for the zipper tab, and, finding it, began pulling down. At 
the same time, her own white thighs opened under her skirt, and her body 
thrilled to the pressure of his hand as it slid underneath and pressed into 
her panty crotch, pushing it into the wet divide of her sodden pussy. She 
automatically responded to the pressure of his hand, enticingly rubbing her 
pouting pussylips against the probing hand. She moaned as his heavy palm 
rubbed the heated, moist swelling of her anxious labia. 

To Pris this was all so new and wonderful. She had never experienced 
sensations like this, and she was truly enjoying herself to the utmost. If 
pleasing male clients meant she would enjoy these feelings herself, she was 
more than willing. Imagine earning money this way. Wow! 

She felt him tugging her skirt off. Reaching to the side, she pulled down a 
zipper, making things easier for him. Then it occurred to her he might want 
his own pants off, and so she unhooked the front of his pants. She rose, 
sliding her skirt off, watching as he kicked off his own pants. Then, seeing 
him start to pull off his jockey shorts, she tugged her own panties off. 

Christ! Paul thought, staring up at her body. She was fantastic. What a 
lovely body. And it would all be his. Yes, he was the one to teach this new 
employee what it was all about. And he could see from the way she was 
sensuously writhing that she was hotter than a burning oven. She also 
removed her pantyhose. 

His dangling underpants were down around his ankles, and as she leaned 
against him again, she used her bare toes to kick them off. She felt him 
pulling her tightly against his hairy body, his swollen, hose-like cock 
pressing against the bush of midnight moss between her own white thighs. His 
throbbing cock could feel how wet her pussy hairs were. 

She could feel the bristly hairs on his crotch, as well, able to sense how 
thick it was. And when he pushed her back to look at her ebony-covered 
mount, she was able to see the hungry glitter in his eyes. 

Reaching for her hips, he pulled her against him and rubbed his thick cock 
between the slimy separation of pink pussy labia. Pris began shivering all 
over, not knowing why, feeling all kinds of flame blister through her entire 
body. She was so hot, she felt as if fire were shooting from her fingertips. 
A strange hunger was working its way up inside her as she used her own, 
sinuous, soft arms to hold him close to her. She humped the lower half of 
her body against his, forcefully pressing her soft, tender cuntlips against 
his solid cock, wondering why it was a man had a thing like that between her 
thighs. 

Pris had learned nothing about the differences between men and women in her 
young life. Her parents had tried to keep all the "dirty thoughts" from even 
entering her head. As a result, she had not been able to discuss boys with 
girls her own age as she had grown up. True, her parents had allowed her to 
date, but only after carefully scrutinizing the boy in advance, and having a 
long talk with him before letting him take their daughter out. Even so, more 
than one boy had managed to caress her breasts through her blouse, as if 
defying her parents. Her purity was such, had her parents not spoken to the 
boys, it was probable they would not have even gone that far. 

"My God!" Fink whispered. "You really are a virgin." 

"What do you mean, a virgin?" Pris asked. "I mean, no boy has ever entered 
your body before." 

"Entered my body?" she asked, curious how one person could enter the body of 
another. 

"I mean no man has ever taken his penis, this thick thing between my legs, 
and pushed it into the sweet, honeyed hole between your legs," he explained. 

"Well then, I guess I'm a virgin," she nodded. "I mean, I've dated boys 
before, and a few have touched my bosom, but no, no man has ever entered me, 
as you so quaintly phrase it." 

"Well I guess you've just been waiting for the right cock to come along." 

"The right what?" 

"Cock. That's another word for penis. Cock, prick, whang, dong, dick, 
schlong, schvance, rod, dingus, pecker. They all mean the same thing. Just 
as that nice cave in your body is called a cunt, a vagina, a twat, a pussy, 
a snatch, a box, a nest, and so on. And I think it's time to see if mine is 
the right cock." 

"Well, how can you tell if it's right or wrong?" Pris asked him. 

"Just by seeing if it fits inside you. Sometimes it takes a little shoving, 
but if mine is the right cock for your pussy, it'll fit right in, 
eventually." 

"Okay," she nodded, as his fingers began rubbing her nipples, watching the 
way she reacted. 

Seeing her sweet, innocent face once again made him wish his cock was buried 
in her mouth. But then he wouldn't be able to use her cunt. What the hell! 
Maybe he'd let Steffie blow him. 

Pris was a little confused, herself. Paul had told her the hole between her 
thighs was for a man's penis. She had always thought in terms of liquid 
waste matter being eliminated from that area, just as solid waste matter 
left by way of her rectum. She wondered if the penis was supposed to be 
stuffed into that hole, as well, or did the man have another portion of his 
anatomy to fit in there. For that matter, there was her navel, her ears, and 
even her nostrils. Were each of these meant to be stuffed with something? 
And then there was . . . her mouth? God! What else could a man have attached 
to him if he was supposed to fill all her holes? 

Even as Paul continued kissing her, she made a hasty examination of his body 
with her eyes. No, no, there was only the penis, and that funny looking sac 
dangling below it But that sac couldn't fit inside her. Perhaps the 
different orifices of her body were so she could accommodate different 
penises. After all, Paul had said something about making his penis fit into 
her vagina. If a penis was too thin to fit in her pussy, then maybe it would 
fit in her asshole. And if it was too thick to fit in her snatch, then maybe 
it was supposed to go into her mouth. It seemed logical. And she had to 
admit, what Paul was doing to her now was driving her up the wall. One 
physical sensation after another traveled wildly through her body, and she 
was enjoying this contact with a man much more than she'd ever believed 
anything could be enjoyed. 

She was wildly panting, letting Paul know he was reaching her. He was 
teasing all the licentious sensations in her, making her hotter and hotter 
for him. And the lust she was feeling was strictly for him. Poor Paul. His 
ego refused to accept the fact he was strikingly gruesome, and as a result 
would not be attractive to most women under normal conditions. 

The rubbing of his thick cock between her slick pussylips made her shut her 
eyes and passionately sigh. He could have been Frankenstein's monster at 
this point and Pris wouldn't have cared. Looking down, she thrilled to the 
way he was enjoying the taste of her budding nipples. His lips pulled on 
them, sucking and even snapping them, as if trying to tug them from her 
breasts. His hands were cupping each of her tiny tits, making them seem 
fuller and heavier than they really were, and his licking tongue almost 
scratched her sensitive flesh. 

She rubbed her seething split against his heavy penis, moving more and more 
quickly. Funny, hot liquid was coming out of her body, and at first she was 
afraid she had accidentally urinated. But Paul continued rubbing his thick 
whang through the crevice between her thighs, and she sensed the stickiness 
of the fluid and realized it wasn't urine. This allowed her to relax a 
little, though she was fantastically wrought up by what he was doing. 

"God!" she gasped. "Oh God! What's happening to me? I've never felt this way 
before. You have some terrific mouth. It's making me feel funny, all over." 

Shrugging, Paul began lapping lower, lancing the point of his tongue into 
her belly button. She trembled, writhing under his oral caresses, then felt 
his mouth moving through her black pubic bush and suddenly realized just 
where his mouth was heading. 

"God!" she thought aloud. Then; "What are you doing?" 

"I'm going to lick this sweet little pussy of yours," Paul told her. "I'm 
going to eat it until I've sucked every drop of hot quim juice out of you. 
And you, dear girl, are going to love it." 

She felt his tongue licking her belly, then her thighs, and even the bottom 
of her ass-cheeks, though his tongue was careful to avoid its target. He was 
doing to her genital area what he had done to each of her breasts, before, 
teasing and tantalizing the flesh around the area he eventually intended 
attacking with his mouth. 

Imagine, men did things like this to women, putting their mouths on women's 
vaginas. If this was what she had to do to please a man, she could hardly 
wait to start pleasing more men. 

Pris might have been naive and uninformed, but she wasn't dumb. If men did 
things like this to women, she was absolutely certain women did things like 
this to men. Now there was no doubt in her mind Paul or some other man would 
be expecting her to suck a cock. But from the way Paul was enjoying licking 
around her thighs, she was fairly certain she would enjoy sucking just as 
much. When the time came, she would find out. But at the moment, she wasn't 
going to hurry anything. Everything being done to her was far too enjoyable 
to interrupt. 

She felt his hands spreading her thighs more widely apart. Looking down, she 
could see the top of his almost-bald head, and though it was hardly the 
sight she would expect to arouse her, she knew the sight of a bald head, 
from then on, would always remind her of this moment. 

Paul stared at the blue-black carpet of her pelvic bush, then permitted his 
cobalt-blue eyes to wander down to the large, irritated clitoris. Although 
he had yet to touch it, it was straining out from behind the hidden membrane 
of pink tissue. And below that delicious-looking little nubbin, partially 
open because of the pressure of his thumbs on her thighs, was the wide-open 
slash of her lathered pussy. 

"Unnh!" she gasped, feeling the warmth of his breath on her vaginal opening. 

Pressing his full, closed lips to her sticky opening, he felt her juicy 
flood slither all over his lips and chin. And when he pressed his lips 
against her sticky gash with a bit more pressure, he was pleased to feel the 
way she started, so totally unused to what he as doing. 

His thumbs spread her cuntlips farther apart as his wide tongue came leaping 
out to flatten itself against her sopping gash, slurping the wet, slavering 
fluid from within as it swiped its way up from the bottom of the vaginal 
crevice to the top. He licked the slice up and down, feeling her jump. Her 
voice let out a loud, "Eeeeeeeeeee!" as she screeched. Luckily, his office, 
and all the other offices at Jacobsen & Co. were totally soundproof. Yeah, 
Paul knew he was really reaching this girl. 

Her hot cuntlips were soaking wet, heavily covered with her gooey fluid. His 
tongue leaped out and continued licking it all into his mouth, swallowing 
and sucking in more as fast as possible. His mouth gobbled along the entire 
length of her hot slit, and he felt her slender thighs tremble with delight. 

She was really getting a kick out of it. He could tell. This chick was going 
hog-wild, reacting insanely. He crammed his face even deeper into her 
simmering pussy. His tongue licked straight up to the top of her fiery hole, 
then licked higher, sliding out from between her flaming inner labia, 
lapping at her vibrant clitoris. He could sense it madly vibrating, so he 
pulled it between his lips, just as he'd pulled on her nipples, earlier. His 
tongue lashed it again and again. 

"Ohhhhh Jesus!" Priscilla gasped, as she felt his mouth dredge out the 
leaking fluid from her quivering cunt. 

His tongue was jumping back and forth, from her tingling clitoris to her 
broiling inner hole, and it made Pris tremble all the more. His tongue was 
lapping into her as far as it would extend, licking the wet inner walls of 
her blisteringly hot interior. He tugged her soft pussylips even farther 
apart and lashed his tongue violently in and out, licking along the outer 
rim of her ultra-sensitive vaginal labia. 

Pris yelled and tightly clamped her slender white thighs around Paul's face. 
Her breath was coming in short, heated gasps as her trim little ass bounced 
on the sofa cushions again and again. 

She felt his lapping tongue lick into the tender folds of her labial 
tissues. Then he crammed his face into her burning hole until it could go no 
further. His tongue lanced as far up into her blazing channel as it could 
go, wildly licking. 

"Unngghh! Unngghh! Unngghh!" she gasped, screeching, wildly bouncing on the 
sofa, thrilling to the way his lapping lingual digit moved between her 
burning pussy and her trembling clit. Her wide-open outer labia seemed to be 
sucking on his face, as if trying to pull his oversized nose into her tight 
cunt, mistaking it for a prick. Her body was moving rapidly, and Paul knew 
if he continued like this she would attain her first climax in no time. 

His mouth continued working in her broiling cunt oven, his tongue attacking 
her clitoris with more and more fervor. Then he abruptly stopped licking, 
forcibly pulling her thighs apart so he could pull his face from against her 
leaking slash. 

"Mr. Fink, Mr. Fink," she gasped, "don't stop, please . . . please . . . 
please . . . " 

Before she could complain any further, Paul moved up on her horizontal body, 
bringing her feet onto the cushions, but not before his knees were between 
her thighs and his solid penis was rubbing against her slippery slot. He 
pressed the thick head against the burning entryway, feeling the head from 
within as it blasted out of her. 

"Yes . . . " she nodded, looking up into his blazing blue eyes. "Yes . . . 
do it.. . put it in . . . do it. . . " 

"That's just what I'm going to do," he murmured. "I'm going to fuck you. Do 
you hear? I'm going to fuck you." 

"Yes . . . yes . . . fuck me, fuck me, I know your cock'll fit inside me. I 
know it's the right size for my cunt. Fit it in." 

Reaching between his legs, he grabbed his solid rod and pushed the head 
against her inflamed labia, then proceeded to slam forward, hard. At first, 
her tight vulva, her inner cuntlips, refused to separate. But as he pressed 
harder, the tender lips began to slowly part. And little by little he began 
stuffing his thick, seven-inch salami into her crushing depths. 

She screamed, feeling passionate desire mingle with a new pain as his 
pressuring penis forced her cuntal interior farther and farther apart. She 
took a deep breath and held it, raising her ass to change the angle of his 
penetration, hoping his thick meat would fit all the way inside her before 
the pain dominated her tender body. 

He pushed a little deeper, and she squirmed with hurt, twisting as if trying 
to get away from him, yet turning in the hope of screwing the pain out of 
her and more pleasure into her. She felt it slowly forcing its way in a bit 
deeper, adding to the overpowering agony. She wanted him to pull it out, but 
after having come this far, she didn't dare shout or complain. 

He was almost halfway in when she felt the blunted dome of his throbbing 
cock press against something that caused her unbearable agony. 

"That's your cherry," he gasped. "By God! You really are a virgin." 

"What'll we do?" she asked. 

"It has to be broken if we're going to continue," he told her. 

"Then break it," she ordered, gritting her teeth with the painful sensations 
drilling through her. 

He backed his cock off a little, then sent it slamming forward, making her 
yell and scream all the louder. Abruptly, she felt a sharp, wicked, intense 
tearing from within. Then his weighty, solid phallus slammed itself all the 
way in, enlarging the rest of her narrow interior. His puffy glans stretched 
her vaginal tunnel until she squealed with shuddering pain. But as he slowly 
withdrew the powering piston, she started begging. "Don't take it away. 
Don't.. . please . . . put it back . . . put it back . . . " 

"Yeah, kid," Paul gasped, "Hurt me more. Hurt me more. Push it in. I want 
all of it." 

And so he slammed it all the way into her driving the entire thick length as 
far as it would go. 

"Jesus!" he gasped. "You're so soft inside it's like fucking into a deep tub 
of soft margarine." 

"And you're like a long, thick, white-hot knife," she responded. "But God, 
it's wonderful." 

Once again, he pulled back, then slammed forward, slamming his meaty prong 
into the heated depths of her fiery vagina. She squealed and gasped, her 
voice almost going unheard because she was bellowing into his deaf ear. He 
had been born with with one bad ear, and now he was almost happy, since her 
squeals would have painfully deafened him, had he been able to hear them. 
Her hips bounced up wildly from the sofa, meeting his down-thrusting limbs. 
Pris thrilled to the feel of his long, hard prong as it ran all the way up 
into the flaming depths of her anguished pussy, filling her womanly chalice 
with his long, hard, solid cock. 

He could tell she was boiling hot. She would come in a matter of seconds, 
and it pleased him because his own semen was boiling and bubbling in his 
tightly squeezing testicles. 

He began pumping regularly into her now, in and out, in and out, the hot, 
slimy cavern of her tight cunt squeezing the pulsating prick as it slithered 
in and out. The tightness of her squashing cunt sucked on his male bone like 
a babe nursing at its mother's breast. 

Pris' body heaved upward, her tight pussy whacking into his pelvic bush as 
her long, slender legs enveloped his body, twining themselves tightly around 
him. Her heels dug into his calves for leverage. He could feel her sucking 
vulva, opening and closing with the rhythmic gasps coming from her mouth. 
The palpitating clutch of her anxious pussy seemed to literally be vacuuming 
him into her. Her walls clung to his throbbing cock with the tightness of a 
vise, and his moving pudendum almost felt as if the skin were being scraped 
from it as it moved through her. 

Pris felt his heavy balls pounding against her closely squeezed ass-cheeks 
as he began hurrying his lunges into her. Both could hear the slurping noise 
her sucking cunt made as it clung tightly to his throbbing peter. 

"I . . . uhhhhh . . . feel something . . . uhhh . . . funny . . . " she 
gasped between clenched teeth. 

"It's . . . ooooooh . . . your orgasm . . . " Paul explained. "It's . . 
.ahhhh . . . the greatest feeling anyone . . . ohhhhhh . . . can ever have.. 
. let it come. . . let it come . . . " 

He plowed his throbbing penis into her with greater vehemence now, the 
heavy, swollen member working through the lathered resistance of her sloshy 
cunt. The clinging delight of her vaginal interior seemed to caress all 
sides of his cylindrical phallus at once. Again and again he plunged his 
seething dork into her, ramming it into her vital depths, slamming it home. 
His hairy chest rested against her small, firm tits, feeling the way her 
pink, extended nipples sliced right through the hair, and like tiny diamond 
chips, slashed his chest. 

The spunk was boiling within, rising, heading toward that slender tube in 
the underside of his throbbing cock. It would move through him and blast out 
into her at any second. 

Paul wanted to hold off, making certain Priscilla came first. With his own 
wife he didn't give a damn, but with Priscilla, it was important she attain 
orgasm. She had to know how ultimately fulfilling the entire thing could be. 
This way, when other men-men he selected, clients with already huge trust 
funds-attempted to seduce her, Priscilla would not hesitate. She was 
innocent and unknowing enough to do it all for the sake of enjoyment. True, 
she would believe she'd be earning money too, believing the men might open 
trust accounts with her. How was she to know they already had accounts open 
with Paul Fink. 

The idea of using the two girls was new to Paul. It had come to him when 
Mike Marcus, the number two man in the firm, had suggested he take over the 
care and training of the two girls. Jacobson & Co. had always been a staid 
old firm, hiring women strictly as secretaries. Now, in order to prove they 
didn't discriminate, they had hired these two young ladies in the hope they 
would prove themselves equal to the task of working for the company. If the 
young ladies didn't work out, the firm would have to replace them with other 
young ladies, and, in a way, that was precisely what Paul Fink wanted. In 
the past, he'd always had to find ladies of ill repute for his clientele, 
paying for them out of his own pocket. Now he had these pure, sweet, 
innocent-looking girls who would be much better than any bimbo. Now, the 
company was supplying him with girls he could continue to use to make the 
trust department at Jacobson even bigger, though he would get all the 
commissions for himself. 

When he was finished with Priscilla, he would send her to the order 
department while he rested. In the afternoon, after a good meal, he would 
let Stef-fie learn to do with her mouth what Pris was doing with her cunt. 
He would leave it up to his clients to complete the sexual education of the 
two girls. 

He sank his thick prick into her creaming snatch all the more deeply, as if 
intent on nailing her to the couch. He was slamming himself into her with 
all his strength. And her tight cunt continued sucking him in as she rotated 
and humped beneath him. 

Rapture made her gasp aloud. And the sight of her lovely mouth, wide open, 
sighing and shuddering as she approached her satisfaction aroused him all 
the more. God! She had to be the most absolutely beautiful girl he had ever 
seen. His throbbing cock felt itself swelling as it continued see-sawing in 
and out of her. 

Priscilla couldn't understand what was happening. Wild, unbelievable, 
ecstatic sensations were rising inside her, totally overwhelming and 
engulfing her. She twitched and vibrated, and suddenly realized she'd lost 
all control of her limbs. Her arms and legs flailed wildly as she felt she 
was about to burst wide open. And then the climax blasted through her entire 
body at once. 

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHH! AAAGGGHHHHH UGHH!" she screamed as her flailing body 
squirmed and writhed all over the sofa. Prickles of shuddering thrills 
seemed to blast from every pore as she shouted again and again, unable to 
control herself. 

The sensation was unbelievable. She'd had no idea such wonderful feelings 
existed in the human body. Oh Lord! And to think, she would be enjoying this 
feeling while legally earning money, working for Jacobson & Co. This was too 
good to be true. 

Paul, feeling her mad movement, had to use his weight to hold her down. The 
rising sperm in his throbbing penis was moving at an uncontrollable speed 
now. It was on a one-way trip out of his body, into hers. He continued 
plunging recklessly into her tight body, feeling the wonderful contractions 
of her fabulous cunt around his thrusting cock as she came, and then it was 
time for him to come. 

Paul never shouted when he climaxed. Rather, he snorted, since he had a 
deviated septum which made breathing difficult. Wheezing like a stuck pig, 
he felt his semen erupt from his body and splash into the tight channel of 
her seething pussy. Blast after heated blast of sticky white sauce spilled 
into her tight canal, and she thrust her slender self up to welcome it into 
her. 

Pris felt the wonderful gush of heated come shoot into her squeezing depths, 
and in her mind it enhanced her own orgasm even more. 

Paul grunted again and again, throwing his full weight on the slender girl 
beneath him. God! God! God! He couldn't recall ever having enjoyed a body as 
much as he'd enjoyed this one. Christ! He would have to have her again, even 
if it meant the pretext of more business. She was too good to let go too 
quickly. Hell! He might switch a small trust account into her name, if only 
to keep her working under him a little while longer. 

Under him? He had to smile at that. At the moment, that was precisely where 
she was laboring; directly under him. 

If Steffie were as good, it might mean his having to surrender two small 
trust accounts, as if the girls were really earning their money, thereby 
enabling him to keep them in his department so he could continue screwing 
them. 

What really made him perk up was the idea of teaching the two at the same 
time. He knew it would be tacky, convincing both girls to undress together, 
in front of him. But he knew he could do it, assuming he had enough time. 

Realizing his enjoyment of the girl had finally come to an end, Paul pulled 
out of her, getting to his feet. 

"Do you understand what I mean?" he asked, handing her a tissue to catch all 
the jism oozing out of her tight pussy. 

"Oh yes," she nodded. 

"Think you can handle it?" he wanted to know. "Definitely," she nodded. 

"Okay, Today you'll learn more about the way the back office works, but 
tomorrow I'll send you to see a doctor who has been wanting to open a trust 
account with us for some time." 

Priscilla could only nod, happy she was about to prove herself. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Dr. Ralph Espizza seemed like a nice man as far as Pris was concerned. He 
was a gynecologist, and he had welcomed her into his office the following 
day. Pris was wearing a white blouse with a red miniskirt, and red 
pantyhose, to match. Since these were opaque pantyhose, there was no need 
for her to wear an additional pair of panties. Her shoulder-length black 
hair fell around her white face, framing it and making her seem even more 
beautiful in the eyes of the doctor. 

Espizza was a tall man, about six feet two and a half inches tall, and 
though he had a barrel chest, there was no fat on him. His brown hair was 
thinning on top, and he smiled good-naturedly. Pris would soon learn that 
everything the doctor did, he did good-naturedly. 

At first, they sat in his office discussing his financial affairs. Espizza 
had been prepared by Paul Fink for Priscilla's visit, and so good-naturedly 
discussed his financial holdings with her, neglecting to tell her they were 
already with Jacobson. He listened attentively as Pris, using her own newly 
acquired knowledge, discussed some changes in his portfolio she felt would 
improve it. As he listened, Espizza decided the girl knew her business, all 
right. He would insist Fink make the changes she suggested. But he played 
good-naturedly hard to convince. 

"Tell you what," he said. "If you wish, while we're talking, suppose I give 
you a free examination. Just as you know about stocks, I know about the 
female body, and from what I see, you might be in need of vitamin 
supplements." 

"Really?" Pris naively asked. 

"Oh yes," Espizza nodded. "I would suggest an immediate internal 
examination." 

"Okay," Pris nodded. 

He seemed like such a good-natured man, she couldn't refuse him. Besides, he 
was offering her a legitimate opportunity to take her clothes off. Perhaps 
she would be able to convince him to do the same thing. And from the size of 
his portfolio of stocks, once she brought it into the trust department and 
made the suggested changes, she realized the commissions would far and away 
exceed her entire draw for the month. 

"Now," Espizza said to her, "I want you to answer my questions. Remember, 
what I'm doing, I'm doing so I can help you. Before I go probing into your 
body, I want you to tell me, have you ever had an internal examination 
before?" 

"No," she admitted. 

"Aha, then you've never had anything penetrate your vagina." 

"Well, no, that's not quite true, either." 

"I see. Then you're acquainted with sexual intercourse?" 

"Yes, but I don't see what this has to do with . . . " 

"Patience, Miss Penard. You see, sexual intercourse induces certain chemical 
changes in the body. Had these changes taken place without your having had a 
sexual relationship, I would have thought there was something wrong with 
you. True, these chemical changes are for the better, giving you a healthier 
flesh tone, among other things. But if these changes had occurred prior to a 
sexual experience, then engaging in a sexual relationship with a man might 
reverse these chemical reactions. Am I clear?" 

"Oh yes," Pris nodded, willing to accept whatever he told her. 

"Now, when did you have your last sexual experience?" Espizza asked. 

Coloring, Pris said, "Yesterday, in the late morning." 

"And did you properly douche yourself out afterward." 

"Pardon?" 

"I see, you didn't. Very well, douching is very important, and it's 
something I'll have to teach you-at least until you starting taking the 
vitamins I'm going to prescribe. You see, these vitamins make certain your 
inner vaginal membranes remain firm and resilient, and unaffected by the 
pressures of a penis. Although almost all penises are, by themselves, clean, 
in order not to take any chances, when you don't take these vitamins, a 
douche is needed. I'll show you precisely how to douche a little later on. 
For now, step into the examining room, remove your clothes, and put on the 
paper gown you'll find there." 

Pris obediently went into the examination room where, draped over a chair in 
the corner, she saw the gown. Slipping into it, she sat on the examining 
table and waited for the doctor. 

This was the first time she had ever been in a gynecologist's office, and 
she felt a little unsure of herself. Sitting on the table's cold leather, 
she looked down at the stirrups on either side of the foot of the table. She 
had seen them in her own physician's office, but until now she'd had no idea 
why he'd used them. God! They looked like something the Inquisition might 
use. As she thought about the stirrups, Dr. Espizza entered. 

"Ah, I see we're all ready. Excellent. Lie back on the table, please. Don't 
be frightened. This is something I ordinarily do every day with more than a 
dozen different women. Open the gown." 

Pris opened the paper gown and watched as Ralph Espizza reached out, put his 
hands on her breasts, and softly massaged them, rubbing the nipples with his 
thumb. She became aware his fingers were making her hot and bothered. Hell! 
She liked it. Maybe the doctor would like it enough to join her on the 
table. Then he might be able to make her feel really good, and at the same 
time her body might convince him to let her handle his portfolio of stocks. 
After all, once it was in the trust department, under her guidance, she 
would have complete control over the account, buying and selling without 
having to consult him. 

God! His fingers on her breasts were doing wonders to her, internally. She 
noticed he was paying close attention to the firmness of her breasts. He let 
his fingers move over every inch of them, lightly caressing the flesh as 
well as pulling on her nipples. She writhed on the table, breathing more 
heavily. Espizza noticed the way she was moving, and smiled. 

"Does what I'm doing bother you?" he asked Priscilla. 

"Oh no," she assured him. "Everything's. . . uhhh . . . fine." 

"Excellent. This part of the exam is finished. There are no lumps in your 
breasts. Now we'll have a look at the rest of you." 

He moved to the other end of the table, making her slide up a bit, fitting 
her feet into the stirrups, raising her knees and spreading her thighs wide 
open. 

Pris felt embarrassed in this position. When she had been with Paul, the 
previous day, he had made her feel completely at ease. Dr. Espizza, with his 
good-natured professional mannerisms had her shaken up. Her face reddened as 
she blushed. 

"All right, Miss Penard, if you feel something a little cold, don't worry. 
I'm using special instruments so I can make the examination thorough. Why 
not simply close your eyes and relax. I'm going to make both a vaginal and 
rectal examination. And if you relax you'll find things go much easier." 

Priscilla couldn't help feeling her heart start to beat faster. She watched 
him slide a rubber glove on over his right hand, and then he took out a jar 
of some kind of ointment and smeared the stuff all over his fingers. He 
began by inserting a forefinger covered with cool ointment into her rectum. 
The strange feeling made her a little uneasy as the cool ointment lubricated 
the way for his finger. She felt the finger slide in and out of her ass 
channel again and again, enlarging it. She was surprised at how easily the 
finger slid into the tight orifice. True, the finger was much thinner than 
the cock she'd felt forcing its way into her tight pussy the previous day, 
but her asshole was also so much narrower than her pussy. She was even more 
surprised when she felt him slide a second finger into her anal tunnel. Her 
sphincter suddenly snapped shut around his fingers when they were all the 
way into her, and suddenly Pris was uncomfortable. 

"You have to relax," Espizza insisted, moving his fingers around inside her. 
"The longer you fight me, the longer this examination will take." 

At this point Pris was no longer thinking about the examination. She felt 
hot sensations of lust starting to shoot through her excited body. She was 
actually enjoying the pressure of his fingers in her rectum. Her interior 
was becoming more and more aroused with each passing moment. 

"Are you feeling better?" Espizza asked, moving his fingers through her anus 
more rapidly. 

"Yes, yes yes," Pris nodded. "It . . . uhhhhh . . . feels . . . ohhh . . . 
very nice . . . " 

His manner was so good-natured, how was it possible for her not to trust Dr. 
Espizza? And when his fingers moved through her ass all the more rapidly, 
she began bouncing her buttocks on the table. She was gasping now, not 
believing she could be this aroused from his simply pushing a finger into 
her rectum. 

Then she felt the fingers sliding out of her rectum as his other hand 
reached over and parted her pussylips. 

"Miss Penard, there's no need for you to feel embarrassed, even if you like 
what you feel. I'd like to think all my examinations are pleasurable rather 
than painful. Don't you agree?" 

"Oh yes," Pris nodded, "definitely." 

Priscilla lay back, determined to enjoy the examination as much as possible. 
Her thighs widened, making it easier for Espizza to push his lubricated, 
gloved fingers into her tight cunt. She squirmed as he probed inside, 
enjoying the way he was poking around, here and there. With his free hand, 
he took the speculum and introduced it into her vagina, spreading her 
interior walls. He brought her face close, looked around, then slowly 
withdrew the instrument, telling her to remain lying there. 

"Everything looks fine, so far," he told her, "but there's one final test I 
wish to make, and it will take a bit longer." 

Pris closed her eyes, feeling completely relaxed. She no longer felt ashamed 
of lying in so undignified a position. In fact, lying there that way, she 
was starting to feel warm and good inside. There was a tingling in her 
rectum, and it was matched by a thrilling tickle in her vagina. Lord! She 
was feeling it literally begin to itch in both places. She wanted to scratch 
herself, internally. Should she let Dr. Espizza know how she felt? 

As she lay there, feeling more and more aggravated internally, she became 
aware of a heat starting to work its way through her body, arousing her. Her 
nipples began swelling of their own accord, and soon, she felt so wrought 
up, she was no longer able to simply lie still on the table. 

"Is there anything wrong, Miss Penard?" Espizza asked. "Why are you writhing 
so?" 

"Oh God!" she gasped. "I have a combination of funny feelings running though 
me. I feel all heated up and aroused, and yet I also feel a terrible itch in 
my rectum and vagina." 

"Hmmm? Let me take a look. I'll see what I can do." 

But Pris could no longer relax, even knowing the doctor was going to help 
her. The crazy itch in both her rectum and vagina was driving her insane. 
And with each passing second the feelings seemed to grow stronger and 
stronger. The heat inside her was building, too. She wished she had a good 
cock. Oh God! She needed a good, solid fucking. Her insides seemed so 
ultra-sensitive and raw. 

Dr. Espizza was already peering between her thighs. His fingers were 
touching her there, and suddenly she realized he was palpating her clitoris, 
vigorously massaging it, making her even hotter. Her brain was starting to 
churn, and she was going crazy. 

Although her eyes were still shut, she could hear the doctor moving around. 
He was pulling her young body forward so her buttocks were now on the edge 
of the table, though her feet were still locked in the stirrups, thereby 
forcing her thighs wide apart as her knees stood straight up. 

Then Priscilla felt it. She felt the thick, rounded object pressing against 
her outer pussylips. She wasn't frightened because she thought the doctor 
was reinserting the speculum to see if he could locate the problem. But what 
she felt being inserted into her, though no broader than the speculum, was 
certainly not shaped like it, and he was really pushing it in fast and hard. 
The ointment he had rubbed into her made it enter relatively easily. 

"What are you doing?" Priscilla asked, opening her eyes. 

She saw him hovering over the lower half of her body, and noticed his own 
clothes were now off. He had a hairy chest, almost as bear-like as that of 
Paul Fink, and his lower half was pressed right up against the edge of the 
table. 

"I'm using the only instrument I can to relieve you of whatever it is that's 
making you itch," he explained. "The itch you have is for a good cock. Tell 
me, was the experience you had yesterday morning your first one?" 

"Y-yes," Pris nodded, confused. 

"Of course. That explains it. Remember, I said your body chemistry had 
changed. The itch you felt came at about the same time today as the 
experience you had yesterday. Correct?" 

"Yes, yes," Priscilla nodded, feeling hotter. 

"Your body needs a good cock massage. Now that it has become used to a 
penis, it can't continue without one. Even though your sweet cunt has been 
lubricated, it's still tight. So please, just hold still so I can fit my 
hard cock all the way in." 

"Yes, yes, do it, Doctor. Fuck me." 

"That's precisely what I'm doing," he told her, "but you understand I'm only 
doing this as part of a prescribed treatment." 

"Yes, yes. But is it really my body that's making me itch so, inside?" 

"Actually it's your body's response to the lubricant I used. Some women can 
accept it readily enough, while others find themselves terribly aroused by 
it. I assume it has to do with the chemical properties in the lubricant." 

At that moment, Priscilla realized she'd been had by the good doctor. In 
spite of his good nature, he was as horny as Paul Fink. And he had 
maneuvered her into a position where she had to be grateful to him for 
fucking her, rather than his showing gratitude for a fuck by turning his 
stock portfolio over to her. God! This made her mad. She had come to him in 
good faith, and he was using her. 

"Relax, lie back," he told her, "and allow me to give you a good fuck. It'll 
be just the thing to overcome the chemical properties in the lubricant I 
used." 

Espizza began cramming his thin, driving cock into her squeezing, irritated 
cunt. He kept on drilling the heavy meat into her until he had the entire 
length of it inside her. 

"Yes, yes, you have one of the tightest pussies I've ever driven into," he 
gasped. "I have a thin prick, and a cunt really has to be tight if I can't 
just slide all the way into it. Uhhh! God! You need more fucking. You're so 
nicely tight. Ahhhhh!" 

Even knowing how the doctor had tricked her, Pris didn't feel like 
resisting. She lay back, thrilling to the way the doctor's slim prick 
slammed through her tender membranes, rubbing the aroused tissues. Hell! 
Even if she had wanted to fight back at this point, she was physically 
incapable of doing a thing. She wanted to scratch her inner cunt and tear 
out that horrible itch driving her insane. According to Dr. Espizza, the 
only way to stop it was to have it fucked out of her, and so she accepted 
what he was doing. It didn't make her any the less annoyed to know he had 
tricked her into wanting his cock more than he had wanted her cunt. 

A multitude of different thoughts raced through her mind. At one point she 
wondered if Paul Fink had set her up. Had he been aware the doctor would do 
this to her? But how could he? Fink had no idea she would willingly submit 
to a gynecological examination. There was no doubt the man was really a 
doctor, but what he was doing was contrary to the Hippocratic oath. One 
thing was certain; he really knew how to throw a hot fuck into her. 

At that point, Pris no longer was allowed the luxury of thinking. She felt a 
finger probing against her tight asshole, but this time it wasn't pressing 
lightly. This time it was being unnecessarily rough. Standing as he was 
against the foot of the examining table, Dr. Espizza was in an awkward 
position, and his attempts to finger her anal tract were less than 
enjoyable, at least as far as Priscilla was concerned. He was poking rather 
than easing it into her, and as a result she bounced higher in an effort to 
pull away from him. 

"Hold still," he told her. "Keep that ass still." 

"No," she gasped. "No, no, I don't like it. That finger hurts. Take it 
away." 

"All right," Espizza nodded. "We'll take care of your hot little ass another 
way. It means I can't come in your cunt, damn it." 

"Yes, yes, come in my cunt," she insisted. 

"Oh no," he replied, removing his finger from between her ass-cheeks, now 
concentrating on fucking his hard cock into her steaming depths. "No, I'll 
help you douche out that itch from your pussy, sweet girl." 

"No," she insisted, unable to close her thighs, feeling him slam his beef 
roll into her with greater and greater force. "You started this, and the 
only way the fire'll go out inside me is if you make me come. I know it. You 
have to make me come." 

"Be glad to," he told her, whacking into her with such effort, his dangling 
balls slammed between her ass-cheeks, pounding all the more swiftly. 

The squeezing tightness of her young pussy was driving Espizza wild with 
desire. In all his life he had never had either virgins or near virgins. 
This was the closest he'd ever come to a really tight cunt, and he felt as 
if his brains were being squeezed out of him by way of his cock. Even so, he 
knew his orgasm was a long way off, and he would have no trouble making this 
sweet, fair-fleshed, ebony-haired girl reach her sexual pinnacle of delight. 
God! He wished his throbbing penis was even thicker so he could really ream 
out her tight, squeezing inner channel. 

"Okay," he gasped, still thrusting his lancing prick into the heated depths 
of her creaming swamp. "I'm going to make you come. Stay cool." 

Pris was somehow or other not feeling satisfied with the way he was fucking 
her. He seemed to lack the expertise of Paul Fink. Her inner, heated cunt 
craved the thickness of Paul Fink's cock, not to mention his length. Espizza 
was nearly two inches shorter than Fink, and only three quarters as thick. 
The itch in her steaming nookie was as strong as ever. She began humping her 
hips up and down in a wild, circular motion, hoping this would make his 
slender cock spiral around inside her and touch her vaginal walls more 
efficiently. Now her tiglit little ass was spinning wildly. 

Slamming herself against the coctor's pelvis, all she really succeeded in 
doing was heightening her own tension. And she writhed so wildly, he didn't 
seem able to keep her spiked. He slammed his body desperately against hers, 
hoping to keep his throbbing prick buried in her steaming trough until she 
finally peaked. Heavy lubrication poured out of him, flooding her tight 
causeway, making his hard, fucking thrusts move all the more smoothly 
within. Now he was stroking with increasing motion, pulling back farther, 
slamming in deeper, pumping speedily, hoping to build her to her elusive 
orgasm before his slender cock came out of her. 

His thin reed of prick was rubbing against her upper vaginal wall, now, and 
it excited her somewhat more. But the flooding juices of her own furrow only 
increased the heat inside her. Her own lubrication, mingling with the 
chemical the doctor had rubbed into her pussy, seemed to ignite until she 
felt as if a million tiny liquid explosions were being set off in her 
vagina, all at once. 

"Hot!" she screamed. "I feel so hot!" 

She writhed at a maddening pace, working her tight twat all over the seeping 
prick, anxious to have that orgasm that would cool everything off inside 
her. Christ! She was wildly ablaze, moving completely out of control. She 
had to put out the agonizing fire inside her. And then she felt the orgasm 
hit her. 

"UUUUUNNNNNGGGGGHHHHHHH!" she gasped as her wildly pistoning movements 
finally caused her to pinnacle. 

But as she came, her inner vaginal sepulcher began unleashing even greater 
quantities of lubrication, and as it flooded into her pussy, running along 
the length of his thin cock until it even seeped out of her, she felt a 
greater burning than ever before. 

Espizza slammed his throbbing dick all the harder into the girl, worried for 
a moment he might have used too much of the ointment inside her. Her 
slavering cunt should have started cooling off by now. He knew she was still 
feeling the itch in her ass, but he would take care of that shortly. He 
would have been able to take care of it with his finger, had she let him. 
But she had been adamant about his pulling his finger from her rectum. Now 
he would have to do it by fucking her ass, as well. 

"YAAAGGGGHHHH!" Priscilla screamed, and Espizza, feeling another hot flood 
of joy juice coming from inside her, realized she had just come a second 
time. But even this orgasm merely inflamed her all the more. 

When the second climax subsided, he sensed she was on the verge of a third 
one, and realized the ointment he'd used would keep her coming all day if he 
didn't do something about her rectum. So he pulled his throbbing, slender 
wand of cock from the hot, quivering depths of her pulsating cunt 

"Put it back in," Pris begged. "Oh please, please, don't take it out, now. 
Put it back in. I can come again. I know it" 

But Espizza didn't listen, and Priscilla had to reach down and thrust her 
own fingers into her smoking center. She rubbed and scratched, and all but 
tore the liqueous membranes out of her, but her fingers were unable to 
replace the cock that had been in there. She gasped and groaned, trying to 
bring on her third crisis, then felt cheated when it slowly faded away 
without once again lifting her over the top of the rainbow. And the worst 
part of it was, the discomfort was still there as strong as ever. 

"Doctor," she asked, wide-eyed and unbelieving, "why did you prematurely 
withdraw? I needed you. I still need you. My body is burning up more than 
ever." 

Dr. Espizza stood looking at her, feeling a bit of pity for her. He had 
never encountered a girl either as beautiful or as innocent as Priscilla. 
The sight of her seemed to set off something totally animalistic inside him; 
something he'd never felt before. He couldn't understand this urge to use so 
much of her over so short a period of time. 

"Relax, Miss Penard," he told her. "Although you've already had two vaginal 
orgasm, neither had dimmed your capacity for climaxing. The reason for that 
is simple. The ointment is affecting your rectal membranes as well. 
Therefore, what you need is an anal climax. When you've had that, the 
itching and the burning and discomfort will totally disappear." 

Pris couldn't understand what he was saying. What in heaven's name was an 
anal climax? How could one have an orgasm in one's ass? 

All this was new to her. She was more than a little upset, and the burning 
within made her feel terrible. But one thing the doctor had said did make 
sense. Though she'd thought it to be centered in her aching vagina, she now 
realized there was a lot of it in her anus as well. Maybe, just maybe, he 
knew what he was talking about after all. Her sphincter was itching as much 
as her vulva had itched earlier. When she reached back to try and scratch 
her anal muscle with her fingernail, Dr. Espizza caught her hand, saying, 
"no, my dear. To do that would be to cause yourself some harm. You mustn't 
touch yourself back there with a sharp thing like your fingernail. What your 
ass needs is a cock." 

Thinking back to the previous day, Priscilla remembered how she'd believed a 
penis too slender to properly fit in her vagina would be used in her rectum. 
Now she realized how accurate her assessment of the situation had been. 
Espizza's cock had been too thin for her tight cunt, even though her vaginal 
walls had all but strangled the life from it. So he would fit it into her 
asshole. 

Before she could think any more, Pris felt the itch in her sphincter 
suddenly wiped away by a sharp, stabbing pain. She realized he had tugged 
her thighs even wider apart, had propped a pillow under her spine, and had 
lifted her anus to the height formerly held by her tight cunt. And now he 
was trying to force his meaty wand into her tight rectum. She realized the 
ring of tight muscle was being painfully stretched. God! Where his hard 
prick had felt so slender in her steaming pussy moments before, it now felt 
gigantic in the teeming entryway to her knotted asshole. Christ! It felt 
immense. 

"Owwwwwww Uhhhhhhh! That hurts, it hurts. You're hurting my rectum," she 
pleaded. "Stop! Please, stop!" 

But the doctor refused to stop. He rammed his hard cock against the 
crosshairs of her anal entrance again and again, pushing and pushing, trying 
to force her muscle to weaken. But Priscilla closed her eyes and clenched 
her asshole tightly shut, refusing to allow him to shove his hot poker into 
her. She'd had enough pain the previous day. Paul Fink's breaking her hymen 
had been agonizing enough. She didn't need this doctor to add to her pain. 
Hell! She had thought getting accounts for the Jacobson Trust Department 
would be enjoyable. Yes, she was willing to use her body as Paul Fink had 
taught her, but she didn't want her torso being abused rather than used. 
What the man was doing was much too much. To hell with his account. She 
could go see someone else. 

"Unstrap my ankles and let me out of here," she insisted. 

"If I do, you'll be in agony all day," he told her. 

"I'm in agony right now because of what you're trying to do." 

"Wait a minute," he told her, backing off. "I have just the thing. I'll make 
everything just fine." 

Going over to a drawer, he took out what looked like a slender pencil 
covered with elastic, from which a bulb dangled. 

"This'll do the trick," he assured her. "If s nice and slender, and once 
we've inserted it into your ass, I just squeeze the rubber bulb, inflating 
the dildo until it's as thick as my cock. Then, when your ass is wide 
enough, Til stick my cock in there and do a proper job." He pressed the 
dildo point to her asshole, but she began bucking, so he said, "Hold still 
and let me fit it in. The sooner we do this, the sooner all your pain will 
be gone. Struggling is only going to make everything hurt more." 

Realizing she wouldn't be released from her present, cramped position until 
the doctor had his way with her, Pris forced her body to relax. He slowly 
began the insertion, and it felt like a thermometer moving in. She held her 
breath, fearful he would hurt her, but for the moment it felt. . . 
different. . . interesting. And then he began inflating it. He pumped it 
until it was considerably thicker than his own cock, and Pris began feeling 
a stretching discomfort, and then pain. The pain turned to momentary agony, 
stretching her as she'd never been stretched before. She felt the object 
pushing deeper and deeper into her, creating an urge to evacuate. It seemed 
to be moving through her bowel much like she was having an elimination, only 
it was moving in rather than out. She tried stopping the sensation by 
tightening her rectum, but this merely heightened the pain. She began 
writhing and screaming, and she was certain she might have had an 
embarrassing moment had he not removed the dildo. 

Her asshole instantly contracted, and she could fee the way her sphincter 
was throbbing, much the way her vulva had pulsated the previous day after 
her vagina had first been entered. But now her anal tract was itching more 
than ever, and she writhed and wriggled, hoping to rub her sphincter against 
something abrasive, thereby satisfying that itch. She knew her respite was 
only temporary, and suddenly felt the thin, blunt head of his solid cock as 
it touched her puckered anal entryway. 

Espizza ran his cock up and down her rectal crack, going all the way up to 
her pussy at one point to soak the glans in quim juice, then moving back 
down to her anal star. Content he had done all he could to make his entry 
into her rectum easy, he pressed the knob of prick against the inflamed 
asshole. 

The dildo had done an excellent job of loosening Priscilla's anal muscle, 
and though she strained to keep him out, one solid shove was all that was 
needed to bury his meat into her clutching rectum. Pris yelped once as the 
slender cock pushed its way in, running all the way up into her anal 
sanctuary. The cock, for all its hardness, felt warmer and softer than the 
inflated dildo. But this time Espizza continued shoving until he had the 
entire five inches buried to the hilt in her tight rectum. He didn't stop 
until his balls slammed into the leather table under the pillow on which her 
ass was resting. Pris felt his body press against her ass-cheeks and under 
thighs as his slender cock rubbed her anal walls. She knew the only way for 
this to end was for him to shoot his spunk into her asshole. Once that 
happened, he'd release her. She refused to believe she could have an anal 
climax, and all she wanted was to be able to leave while she was still 
alive. Every little move on her part seemed to cause her additional 
discomfort, though from Espizza's grunts she was certain he was really 
enjoying himself. But as she became used to the breadth of the cock, the 
annoying itch began bothering her again, and this, in turn, forced her to 
start wiggling her ass. 

Espizza didn't give Priscilla a chance to say anything at this point. He 
began stroking strongly into her ass, powering his pistoning cock back and 
forth. Pris found herself gasping for breath as he pounded swiftly and 
surely into her anal depths. She felt her body being shaken very violently, 
noting he was ramming into her with all his strength. He slammed his entire 
length in on each forward thrust, then pulled all the way back until only 
the dome of his throbbing prick was lodged behind her sphincter. He would 
hold himself there for a fraction of a second, and then he would slam in all 
over again. 

Pris found it difficult to accept all this, at first, but as her body became 
accustomed to his throbbing cock, she realized his movement had not only 
stopped the itching, but was actually beginning to feel good. She noted he 
was teasing her clitoris with his fingers as he continued thrusting his cock 
into her ass, and even slid two fingers into the tightness of her creaming 
cunt. He fingers reamed sweetly into her tight pussy, moving in coordination 
with the way his throbbing cock slammed into her crushing asshole. The 
faster he moved, the more Pris was enjoying herself. She felt her body 
relaxing more and more, and soon the pain in her rectum was an uncomfortable 
memory. Now she began humping her ass higher, responding to his thrusting 
strokes. Her body was beginning to vibrate with sexuality. 

She realized she was still hot and anxious. The two vaginal orgasms had not 
been nearly enough. She needed more. Both orgasms had been good, but neither 
had been as powerful as the all-encompassing orgasm brought on by Paul Fink 
the day before. Her sexual frustration, her not being able to find total 
satisfaction, had enhanced her pain, making it feel worse. 

Pris was still angry at Espizza for having used her this way. More, she was 
angry at Paul Fink, because she knew he had to have been in on it. The 
doctor could never have maneuvered her into this position had Fink not said 
something or other to Espizza. She knew there was no way she would be able 
to call the authorities against Espizza without ruining her entire future in 
the stock market. And that was something she didn't want. Not only that, but 
when her parents learned of what had happened, they would throw her out of 
the house. She would have no place to live. 

Damn! The doctor had seduced and raped her. And since there was nothing she 
could do about it, she figured she might as well settle back and enjoy the 
rape. Besides, she had come to the conclusion, now that the pain was gone, 
that she liked a throbbing, solid cock in her rectum. The anal stretching 
had become terribly and erotically thrilling. 

Dr. Espizza could feel her relaxing again. God, good, he was glad. He hadn't 
wanted to hurt her. There was no real sadism in him. All he'd wanted to do 
was fuck her tight cunt and tighter ass, which was exactly what he was 
doing. Soon she would be having an anal orgasm, and he could feel her rectal 
tube tighten so much, it would almost crush his penial muscle. He enjoyed 
the squeezing of her bumhole, and wanted to unleash a gusher of sperm into 
it. Besides, coming in her ass also removed the temporary danger of 
pregnancy. His cock was moving faster and faster, and he was enjoying 
himself more than he had for the longest time. Once in a great while he 
found a woman patient who wanted to seduce him, and being only human, he 
allowed it to happen. But most of his women patients were middle-aged, ugly, 
or had foul-smelling cunts. This sweet, fresh, delicious young thing was the 
most fantastic female he had ever experienced. He wondered what she would be 
like when she was a little older, with experience of her own to fall back 
on. 

"Thatta girl," Espizza said to her. "Now that you're relaxed, we're both 
getting the maximum enjoyment from this. I mean, your sphincter wrapped 
around my cock is a tight enough collar without you tightening up and making 
it strangle my cock. Come on, now. Admit it. You like what I'm doing to 
you." 

"Yes," Priscilla admitted. "I like it. It's something different. I've never 
known anything like it before. And it's helping to get rid of the itch 
inside me. Yes, yes, keep on doing it. It feels wonderful." 

Priscilla was feeling less angry now. The son of a bitch was at least 
getting rid of the itch he had first put into her, and he was really making 
her feel good. Somewhere, deep down inside her, she felt the signals of a 
new, different kind of orgasm. The climax was still a long way off, but it 
was coming. For some reason, she realized the doctor was right. She could 
have an anal orgasm, and since it was possible, that was precisely what she 
wanted. She was willing to bet it would be every bit as good as the vaginal 
orgasms she'd enjoyed. 

Reading her mind, Espizza said, "Don't worry, Miss Penard. This time your 
orgasm will be all-consuming, and you will be more than glad you came here 
today. You'll really come." 

"What. . . uhhhh . . . makes you so. . . uhhhh . . . sure?" Priscilla asked. 

"Because I've done this with other women, and one of the greatest thrills 
I've ever had is the pressure of a woman's asshole as she comes. Now, 
completely relax and enjoy everything." 

So Pris allowed her body to totally let go, knowing it was in Espizza's own 
interests to make her come, and he would therefore do his level best to 
bring her off. He wanted her to climax, and that was precisely what would 
happen. 

She lay back on the table, the pillow still under her ass, her feet strapped 
into the stirrups, thrilling to the powering crashes of his thin cock inside 
her tight asshole while his fingers moved in and out of her tight twat. One 
of his thumbs was rotating against her clitoris, bringing every last nerve 
fiber inside her alive with manual stimulation. 

Espizza, looking down at her tender, white, beautiful body, loved the way 
her body thumped against the pillow underneath as his cock slammed into her 
tight ass. He also enjoyed knowing his was the first cock to ever penetrate 
her ass. With all the other asses he'd fucked, he hadn't been able to tell 
one way or another, though their looseness was a fairly good sign they had 
probably been fucked before. Just knowing his had been the first cock to 
penetrate this divine young brunette's twitching asshole made him feel good. 
Hell! His had probably been one of the first to penetrate her cunt, as well. 
He was in his late forties now, and he doubted if he would have the good 
fortune to take another anal or vaginal cherry. 

Even as he was thinking about the sweet young girl's innocence, he realized 
his cock would not be able to withstand much more of this. He speeded up the 
thrusting of his fingers into her vagina, while he rotated the ball of his 
thumb all the more rapidly against her clitoris. He jammed his fingers even 
deeper into her hot, tight pussy, speeding up the rhythm, thereby making her 
buck all the faster. 

"G-g-g-g-good . . . " she gasped. "It f-f-feels s-s-so g-g-good . . . " 

"Yes, I know," Espizza told her. "I'm glad you like it." 

"Keep rubbing me . . . all places . . . " she gasped. 

Espizza, anxious to feel her body tighten with orgasmic delight, rubbed his 
fingers through her pussy even faster, using his thumb even more strongly on 
her clitoral button. And the pressure of his fingers in her tight, steaming 
cunt, made the slender wall of membrane separating her pussy from her ass 
press all the more delightfully against his thrusting cock. The joint 
fucking made the two of them hotter and hotter, and both realized the time 
of crisis for each was very close at hand. His fingers, sluicing through her 
tight cunt, made her feel wonderful, even if it pressed against his cock in 
her ass. More friction was created in more places. His thumb was pressing so 
hard against her clit as he moved it, he realized she would definitely 
pinnacle before him. 

Pris felt the orgasm building inside her. It would shortly take complete 
control of her. She couldn't hold it back. 

Espizza realized she was almost there. He rammed his fingers in and out with 
even greater speed, matching the tempo with his thrusting cock. And Pris 
began wildly gyrating her hips, reaching out for the climax hanging barely 
beyond her reach. She had to have it, she just had to. 

"I'm . . . uhhhhh . . . going to . . . uhhh come . . . " she gasped. 

"Come," Espizza instructed. "Come! That's why we're doing this. So you can 
come. Come! Come and squeeze my cock with that wonderful asshole of yours. 
Come! Ooooooh yessssss!" 

"AAAAAYYYYYAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" she yelled, beyond hearing anything he was saying 
to her as she reached her own paroxysmic peak of wonderful pleasure. The 
strong floodgates of her lovely young body suddenly opened wide, and 
thrilling, delightful pleasure began blasting through her. She was coming 
with a climax originating in her rectum, just as Espizza claimed she would. 
She writhed and spun her body in the hope of getting more pleasure from 
both, his cock and his fingers as they worked through her. The thumb on her 
clitoris was icing on the cake, making her strain for the orgasmic heavens, 
filling her with unbelievable, thrilling delights. 

Espizza suddenly realized he had underestimated the climaxing abilities of 
the young girl. Her ass responded so strongly, her sphincter contracted so 
powerfully, it was like a clutching hand milking his cock. 

"YAAARRRGGGHHHAAAGGGHHH!" he screamed, clutching her body, feeling her 
asshole squeeze his cock with such force he was certain the cock would snap 
right off. He was unable to move his cock in and out any longer. Her tight, 
grasping asshole had such a firm grip on it, he was locked all the way into 
her, firing his thick load of sperm against her colon again and again. 

Pris felt the burning semen shoot into her rectum and large intestine. This 
only made her wilder, and her body squeezed all the more tightly as she 
bounced on the table. 

She blacked out, the rectal orgasm was so powerful. And when she finally 
came to, she found he had undone the straps holding her feet in the 
stirrups. He had also pulled out of her ass, removing his fingers from her 
cunt, as well. And her body was still spasming with the memory of all that 
had happened. 

Espizza, after dressing, led the naked Priscilla into the nearby bathroom, 
and there, showed her how to lie in the bathtub and douche herself. Then, 
while she was dressing, he wrote her a prescription for contraceptive pills, 
still insisting they were vitamins, instructing her to start taking them 
from the fifth day following the start of her period. From then on she was 
to renew her supply every month. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Priscilla was never one to display her anger violently. When she returned to 
the office that afternoon, she took Paul Fink aside and quietly but firmly 
told him she didn't appreciate being used. 

"Hey, Prissy, stay calm," he told her. "No one used you. Look, to make 
things up to you, why don't you let me give you a trust account. It's a 
small one, I know. But it's a start. I'll instruct the back office you're in 
charge of the account, and any trades are to be okayed in advance by you. 
You get full commission. Okay?" 

Somewhat mollified, Priscilla agreed, though she was far from convinced of 
Paul Fink's innocence in the matter. She accepted the list of stocks of a 
Mr. Norman Taylor, and looking at it, she immediately understood why Fink 
had been willing to give it to her. The account had a total worth of twenty 
thousand dollars, which, for a trust account, was almost nothing. And the 
stocks in the Taylor portfolio were the worst drek she had ever seen. Almost 
every stock was an over-the-counter stock, none of which paid a dividend. 
Each company's shares had a net asset value of five dollars or less. Looking 
at it, she was amazed the man had allowed Paul Fink to continue handling the 
account. 

Calling the phone number on the sheet Fink had handed her, Priscilla soon 
discovered why Norman Taylor was so lax. To begin with, the trust account 
was one of a half dozen. It was the smallest one Taylor had, and each of the 
other five were ten times larger. He had given the six different accounts to 
six different trust departments, or rather, the trust department of six 
different brokerage firms two years earlier. Each firm had five years to 
prove it could do the best job, thereby enabling it to receive the other 
five trust accounts, as well. 

When Taylor had given this trust account to Jacobson & Co., it had been 
worth close to fifty thousand dollars. Paul Fink had reduced it to twenty 
thousand in the past two years, trading in and out of more than two hundred 
rotten securities, taking losses for Taylor while making himself a lot of 
commissions. But the account had gotten so low, he dared not fool around 
with it any longer. This was another good reason for shunting it over to 
Priscilla. Fortunately, the account was not beyond repair, and Pris intended 
repairing it as best she could. 

"Hi," Steffie Sanders greeted, walking into the trust department office. 
"How're things?" 

Although she was smiling, Steffie had red eyes, and Pris, quick to notice, 
asked, "What happened to you?" 

"What do you mean?" Steffie seemingly innocently came back. 

"I mean, what happened to make you cry your eyes out?" 

"It still shows?" Steffie asked. 

"Uh huh," Pris nodded. 

"Did Mr. Fink teach you how to handle a difficult customer?" Steffie asked. 

"You too?" Pris uttered, her eyes wide open. "That man's insatiable. I lost 
my virginity to him that way." 

"I guess I'm a little luckier than you," Steffie told her. "All he used was 
my mouth. He told me there'd be further lessons in the future. In fact, he 
even hinted he would be teaching the two of us together." 

"I've already had lesson number two, only it wasn't from Mr. Fink," Pris 
told her, and explained what had happened at Doctor Espizza's. 

"I get the weird feeling something is wrong here," 

Steffie told her. "Paul wanted to send me to a dentist he claimed had a big 
trust account. I got the 'curse' this morning and wasn't feeling any too 
good, so I told him to postpone it. For some reason he was more agreeable 
than I'd expected. Now I know why." 

"What do you mean?" Pris asked. 

"I mean our fearless leader is using us like a couple of whores. What was 
the name of the doctor you went to see?" 

"Espizza." 

Steffie went to the files, saying, "You keep an eye out for Mr. Fink. He's 
in the order department and we don't want him popping in on us 
unexpectedly." 

So Pris went to the door, opened it a bit, and peered out. There was no one 
in the hallway, and the board room was quiet. 

"Aha!" Steffie cried out, triumphantly. 

"What is it?" Pris asked, coming back into the room. 

"See for yourself," Steffie told her, handing her a large oaktag folder. 

Pris looked at the name on the folder. Ralph Espizza. And when she opened it 
up and took a quick look, she recognized the same portfolio Espizza had 
shown her, earlier in the day. 

"We've been had," Steffie told her. 

"What are we going to do?" Pris asked. 

"Well, staying here would be a dumb thing," Steffie told her. "All we'll do 
is screw more of Mr. Fink's clients. I think we ought to get out of here and 
try for jobs somewhere else." 

"But where?" 

"Are you kidding? I watched the way you research a security before making a 
recommendation. There are half a hundred small houses who deal with the New 
York Stock Exchange who would be more than happy to employ us. I'm just as 
thorough as you. We could work together and really do one terrific job for 
our clients." 

"But first we need clients," Pris reminded her. 

"Well, Mr. Fink showed us the perfect way to get them, didn't he?" Steffie 
asked. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Our bodies. Right now I can't use mine, but in five days I'll be just as 
good as ever. And why shouldn't we use our bodies for our own accounts 
instead of Mr. Fink's?" 

Priscilla thought about it for a moment, then nodded, saying, "You're right, 
Steffie. And here's a list of all of Mr. Fink's customers. He not only 
handles the trust department, but he has his own regular customers as well. 
I'll bet we could work every one of them away from Mr. Fink. Heck, we'd be 
doing them a favor. He does a lousy job of managing stock portfolios. We 
could do a better job, but more important, we can offer certain 'fringe 
benefits' Mr. Fink is incapable of offering. Suppose we hang around until 
Friday, collect our paychecks, then go to work for another firm." 

"I'm with you all the way," Steffie nodded. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Prior to their leaving Jacobson & Co. the two girls had used their lunch 
hours to visit the various other small brokerage firms, and had finally come 
to an agreement with Sternfeld & Hertz. This was a much smaller company than 
Jacobson, but the manager, Robert Sternfeld, having checked the two young 
ladies out thoroughly, decided they were an acceptable risk. And so, on 
Monday morning, bright and early, the two girls entered the Sternfeld & 
Hertz Trust Department. This department was run by fifty-year-old Ed Horner. 
Horner, though a little pudgy, was totally un-like Paul Fink. He was 
easygoing, intelligent, with a constant sleepy-eyed look belying the clever 
brain behind them. He had kinky, dark hair, and wore half-glasses perched on 
the tip of his nose. 

"I assume you girls know all about a trust department," he drawled. 

"That's why we're here," Pris told him. "And I think we can bring in an 
entire new batch of trust accounts, too." 

"Good, good, we can always use more business," Horner nodded. 

"In fact," Pris continued, "I have a luncheon appointment with a gentleman 
today. If everything works out, I think we'll quadruple your present 
business." 

"I like enthusiasm," Horner nodded. "But in the meantime, suppose we see 
what you girls really know." 

For the next two and a half hours, Horner had the girls looking over the 
trust accounts he was handling. Both he, and the girls, were impressed with 
each other. They were amazed at how well he was doing for the accounts, 
striking a perfect balance between high quality securities, and 
high-income-paying stocks and bonds, though the latter were by no means of 
low quality. Horner didn't believe in touching a high risk stock. The bottom 
could very easily fall out. 

Horner was amazed at some of the girls' suggestions for improving the 
accounts, and even went along with one or two, putting in the buy and sell 
orders himself. And because the girls had made the suggestions, he saw to it 
they got credit for the commissions. 

At twelve fifteen, Priscilla, after freshening up, left the office and went 
to the Golden Horn Restaurant, where she had arranged to meet Harold 
Frischeen, the largest trust account at Jacobson & Co. Frischeen, she had 
discovered, was a widower, in his middle fifties, who rarely went out. When 
he finally walked up to her, recognizing her in her all-red outfit-shoes, 
miniskirt, jacket, and handbag-she was surprised by his mature masculinity. 
He was about six feet three inches tall, with sparse hair but an otherwise 
rugged face. His shoulders were square, with the military bearing of a 
high-ranking officer. She later learned he was a retired colonel. His suit 
covered a full chest and a slim waist. 

"Miss Penard," he greeted, "it's a pleasure to meet you." 

His voice was smooth, deep, and touched something deep inside her, arousing 
her. Priscilla would have wanted to seduce him even if he hadn't had a large 
trust account. Heck, she would have been happy to beg him for what she was 
certain was an immense cock. 

As they ate, Priscilla discussed his account with him, explaining he wasn't 
getting the kind of servicing he required, considering the size of his 
account. 

She showed him just what he now held, and how the account could definitely 
be improved. 

Frischeen, listening to her, was visibly impressed. He liked her manner and 
decided she should have a chance at handling the account. What would be 
required would be a letter authorizing Sternfeld and Hertz to accept the 
account. Then Sternfeld and Hertz would send a transfer of account card to 
Jacobson & Co. The account would immediately be transferred over. 

But Harold Frischeen was no fool, either. He realized he could get much more 
from the pretty young lady, and intended doing so. Hers was the kind of body 
to make the juices inside him start flowing freely as they hadn't in quite 
some time. He had avoided women, for the most part, because most of them had 
marriage on their minds, and at his age, he did not need another wife. He 
despised the idea of paying for it. Besides, who could tell what kind of 
social diseases one might pick up. The risk was far less with someone as 
young, fresh, and wholesome as Priscilla. 

"May I invite you to my apartment for a drink?" Frischeen asked when 
luncheon was finished. 

Both knew what he was asking. A refusal on Priscilla's part would mean she 
wasn't interested in him, physically. Not that Frischeen intended letting 
that get in the way of transferring his account. But Pris was still 
uncertain of herself, and not knowing that, accepted. Besides, a man like 
this would probably really know how to do things for a girl-in a sexual 
sense. Well, hell! This was the reason why she'd met with him in the first 
place. She was out to seduce him. Now he was taking the bait. "Certainly," 
she replied. 

Although she had intended paying for the meal, because she had invited him 
out, Frischeen insisted he pay for it. Then he guided her into a nearby 
taxi, and fifteen minutes later they were in his fashionable duplex 
apartment. 

"Would you care for a Scotch and soda?" he asked. 

"Fine," she nodded, willing to accept anything. Drinking was not something 
in which she was well-versed. She didn't care that much for alcohol. True, 
she indulged, but not heavily. 

He made the two drinks and handed one to her, sitting in a large, plushly 
upholstered chair. Pris, realizing the time had come for her to be a little 
more forward, sat on the arm of the chair. 

Both sipped their drinks, and Frischeen's arm casually draped itself around 
her buttocks. Pris sat there without flinching, feeling the warmth of his 
hand as it cupped her firm cheek. 

"I find you very refreshing as an individual," he told her. "You're 
intelligent, and you obviously know a lot about investments. You used your 
knowledge to show me how I would be better off with you rather than 
attempting to use your body." 

"One thing has nothing to do with the other," she told him, lying. "My body 
is to be used for my own enjoyment, and not for business." 

"I'm happy to hear that," he nodded. "I feel the same way." 

"Oh? Do you mean your body is used strictly for pleasure?" 

"I mean I would not have appreciated your using your body as a means of 
getting business from me. The fact that you don't use it as part of your 
business makes me respect you all the more. You see, I've decided to give 
the account to Sternfeld and Hertz whether or not you want to stay here with 
me this afternoon." 

"As I noted a moment ago, one thing has nothing to do with the other. I find 
you fascinating as a man. My staying here has nothing to do with business. 
You see, even if you had decided otherwise, I would still be here. At this 
moment, I'd like to think you find me as interesting as I find you." 

"I think precisely the way you think," he smiled. 

"That means we'd both think better lying down." 

"That seems to be a pretty accurate summation," he nodded. "And since you're 
twisting my arm . . . " and he placed his other hand on her knee, while the 
hand rubbing her buttocks kneaded the solid, resilient flesh, pleased to 
find she didn't need a girdle. 

"Mmmmmm, that feels good," she told him, "but it wasn't your arm I was 
thinking of twisting," and she let her own hand smooth its way down the 
front of his shirt, below his belt, onto his pants, then onto his groin 
where her fingers lightly teased his half-grown cock. He reacted by letting 
his fingertips travel from her knee along the full length of the soft white, 
pantyhose-encased thigh until it was right up between her full buttocks, 
feeling the tight nylon surrounding it. The touch of her sent lascivious 
shivers of thrilling anticipation through his body. It had been such a long 
time since he'd had a woman. 

"Ummmmmmm . . . " she hummed, her eyes half closing as a thrilling wave of 
sensuality swept through her. Her thin, moist lips parted as she lowered her 
face to his, whispering, "Just make certain you don't start something you 
can't finish." And her hand moved below his hard cock, feeling the soft 
ovals of his balls, squeezing them lightly, making him jump a little. 

"Unnnggghhh, lord," Frischeen groaned, feeling the way his hard penis was 
suddenly wildly throbbing, trying to tear through the tightness of his 
underwear. "Don't worry about my starting something I can't finish," he 
gasped. "I'm all ready for anything you want." 

And then his lips felt the cool moistness of her mouth. Unable to restrain 
himself, he lanced his tongue deeply into her throat, touching her palate, 
gums, and teeth on the way in. His licking tongue made Priscilla moan. This 
time there was no fooling around, beating about the bush, trying to 
out-maneuver the man. This time it was pure lust, and Pris knew it was 
solely for the satisfaction of inner body flame. Soft, low moans rose from 
her throat as she kissed him, her tongue responding to his. He was a man, 
all right. He was all man. 

Frischeen's extended middle finger, under her skirt, pushed the smooth, 
flimsy nylon of her pantyhose into the tight, warm crevice between her 
rounded buttocks. His finger teased the small, puckered brownie of her 
asshole, making her trim body tremble violently against his. This made her 
grasping hand tighten around his balls, squeezing them harder while rubbing 
the heel of her hand against his solidly rigid cock. The pressure of her 
fingers made him moan into her mouth as her other hand cupped the back of 
his head and pulled his face even closer. He was gasping and sighing all at 
the same time, and Pris knew he wanted her for herself, just as she was 
aching to be fucked by him. Her tongue stabbed between his lips again and 
again, slashing at his tongue, as if her own tongue were a cutting knife. 

Abruptly, she pulled her mouth away from his, feeling her blood boiling as 
it throbbed in her arteries, her lips seeming to swell from the pressure 
they'd applied to his. She could still feel his sucking and nibbling, and it 
made her hotter than ever. Her fingers moved from his heavy balls back to 
the full thickness of his cock, tightly grasping it through his pants. And 
she began wildly jerking on it, as if desperate to pull it out from behind 
the barrier of clothing. 

"Why . . . uhhhh . . . don't you show me your playpen?" she asked. 

"Right this way," he throatily purred, standing and leading her toward a 
flight of stairs. 

He picked her up, and Priscilla was amazed at how light she seemed in his 
strong, masculine arms as he hurriedly mounted the stairs and carried her 
into his bedroom. She was still holding her drink, and had enough presence 
of mind to set it on the nearby night table once he'd put her down. Wasting 
no time, she proceeded to instantly undress, noticing Frischeen was watching 
her the entire time. He, himself, was undressing, as well. And once her 
white, slender form was naked, she lay on the bed, not feeling the least bit 
ashamed of spreading her legs and letting him look. The previous week when 
the doctor had looked at her naked body she had felt embarrassed and 
frightened, even though she'd wanted to seduce him. Now, knowing what was 
happening had nothing to do with convincing anyone to do business with her, 
Pris felt so much more relaxed. Whoever his wife had been, she had been 
lucky to have married him. Pris was certain this was a man who knew how to 
make a wife feel like a queen. He was well-to-do, wealthy in fact, but he 
was the kind of a man who could make a woman feel good no matter how much 
money was in the bank. 

Looking at his solid body now that he'd undressed, she decided he looked 
like he had enough stamina to satisfy any woman. She could tell he wasn't a 
wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am type. Rather he seemed as much a sexual gourmet as 
he was a connoisseur of good clothing and excellent furniture. She was glad, 
because this was only her third experience. Though her first two had ended 
up delightfully, they had begun poorly. She had felt pain with each of them. 
Somehow she knew this was not the kind of man to cause pain. Nor would he 
mock her or think of her as sexually crude just because she was still 
learning. 

The more she thought about sex, the more she realized she was glad Paul Fink 
had opened up her mind as well as her body to it. True, she would have been 
happier with a more sensual teacher, but Fink had finally managed to make 
her feel good. 

Frischeen had made her understand sex was something one could do simply 
because one liked it and not because it was good business. This didn't mean 
she intended abandoning the use of sex in promoting her business. But it did 
mean she would have to be more discriminating, at least when it came to why 
she was sleeping with a man. She would have to sound the man out and see 
what he was like, first. If seduction was what was needed to make him 
respond, then by all means, use it. But if the man was anything like Harold 
Frischeen, sex was something in which she would indulge whether or not she 
succeeded, business-wise. 

Pris realized she would have to be very careful. She liked Frischeen, and 
she could become involved emotionally. Until today, it had never occurred to 
her this was something that could lead to falling in love. Odd! Her parents, 
and many others like her parents, fell in love, got married, and then 
indulged in sexual intercourse. And as a result many of them, her parents 
included, found themselves sexually frustrated for not having found the 
right mate. This soured them on sex, and as a result, they ignorantly 
brought up their children to believe sex was something one did only after 
getting married. Prior to that, one must not even talk about it. 

In a way, Paul Fink had been a very lucky accident for her. And much as she 
disliked Dr. Espizza as a person, his teaching her how to douche meant good 
personal hygiene. She still didn't associate the act of fucking with 
pregnancy. 

Pris was wise enough to realize she still had a lot to learn where sex was 
concerned, but she preferred "on the job training" with men like Frischeen, 
to what Paul Fink had had in mind. When she'd kissed Frischeen she'd 
realized he'd had nice-smelling breath, even though it was slightly tainted 
by the Scotch. Paul Fink had almost rotten breath, and Dr. Espizza's breath 
had smelled of garlic. 

Having realized fucking could be a totally different experience with 
different men, Pris was in no hurry to marry, herself. She realized she 
would be self-sufficient in the business world, so she didn't need a man to 
support her. It was therefore important she broaden her experiences and 
learn all there was to know before eventually taking that final step. 

Frischeen was down to his briefs now, and she stared, watching with glowing 
eyes as he removed them, revealing just how fantastically he was built. It 
was fully erect, jutting away from his body at a forty-five degree angle, 
the glans as big as her closed fist. The knob was an angry red color, and as 
she stared at it, she really wondered whether her narrow channel was capable 
of absorbing such a monster. She ground her white buttocks deeper into the 
bed as she felt tingling nerves throughout her body suddenly shimmer and 
come to life. There was a strong pulsating in her thighs, and her nipples, 
without being touched, were pinkly erect. 

"Ohhhhhhh!" was all she could moan, licking her sensuously thin lips as she 
stared with a starved look at his fat, heavy prong. 

As she watched, it twitched and throbbed strongly, the large head swelling 
even more before receding. And Pris realized it was so huge because he was 
staring at her body, admiring her white nudity, his stare burning into the 
thin, pink slice of vagina barely visible beneath the growth of ebony fluff. 

"You are a truly beautiful woman," he told her. "I have known many women in 
my lifetime, including my wife, whom I loved and adored above all women. But 
I can truly say, I've never seen a woman as physically beautiful as you. If 
you're as good as you look, I might well end up with a coronary." 

He was amazed at how physically perfect she appeared. Even the little smile 
on her mouth seemed just right, provoking him in a wonderfully licentious 
way as her own eyes remained locked on his thick cock and the way it 
twitched above his heavy, weighty, semen-filled testicles. She was a 
veritable goddess; a Venus, an Aphrodite, an Astarte. And the sight of her 
slightly parted thighs; the revealing of her slightly moistened cuntlips; 
the twitching of her opening and closing labia; made him stare all the 
harder. He was holding his breath he was so aroused, and the pulses in his 
temple were pounding with maddening power. 

"Wider," he whispered. "Open your thighs wider." 

She obeyed, feeling good, knowing this was a mutual feeling between them and 
not the overpowering of one person with the sexuality of the other. The 
sight of his throbbing cock made her feel wantonly wicked and in flaming 
heat. 

"Use your fingers," he gasped. "Spread those sweet labia with your fingers." 

His voice was hoarse as he moved closer to the foot of the bed, to better 
look at her. Her smile was more arousing than ever as she reached between 
her thighs, fingers pressing on each slender column, and finally found the 
pink flower of her sweet pussylips with her middle finger. The deep red of 
her fingernail looked like a drop of blood against the pinkness of her 
labia. Aided by her thumb, her finger began parting the dark, ebony curls of 
pelvic moss. Then the middle finger moved into the center of the wet, pink 
gash and began moving up and down, massaging the anxious clitoris, making it 
swell and peep out from behind the membranous tissue behind which it was 
hiding. At the same time she slowly undulated her hips, bringing all her 
slender body into motion, half-closing her brown eyes because the pressure 
was so erotically inflaming. But to Frischeen, her half-closed eyes looked 
like smoky, alluring little lamps, drawing him closer to her. 

Christ! he thought, watching as she began building the heat in her body. 
I've never seen anyone like her. She's the most arousing sight on Gods green 
earth. 

He permitted his eyes to wander up and down over the never ending, lush 
curves of her lasciviously displayed body. Tingling sensations ran through 
him, making his bare skin prickle, seemingly reaching right down into his 
groin. He felt as if a hand were tightly clutching his hard cock from 
within. His throbbing phallus swelled all the more as his greedy eyes 
observed the perfect shape of her small breasts, firm, erect, with large 
pink circles looking like suction cups surrounding thick pink nipples. She 
rolled her lush body from one side to the other, tempting him closer and 
closer, and her shuddering nipples enlarged even more, seeming to draw tiny 
circles in the air. And all the while she smiled provocatively at him, still 
lingering her clitoris, the red nail now looking like a flame running 
through her. He couldn't believe how far in her waist curved, so impossibly 
narrow under her small, firm, white, jutting tits. Her winking navel looked 
like a sapphire set in a pane-flat belly, and her hips, while not as large 
as those of many women, still flared like a narrow valentine with the fluffy 
curls of hair darkly set in her pubis. Her still-girlish legs seemed long 
and tapered, and the flesh was so white he knew no razor had ever touched 
her skin. Hair just didn't seem to grow on her legs. Her toenails, like her 
fingernails, were painted a bright, blood-red. 

Harold Frischeen was a tremendously sensuous man. He had earned his money 
early in life, doing some wildcatting with oil before his army stint. He had 
married just as he thought his luck had run out, and hadn't figured out why 
Diane, his wife, had ever bothered with him. He knew why he had married her. 
She was a goddess, much like this one. Her body might not have been as 
perfect, but when it came to making him feel like a man there had never been 
anyone to equal her. Although she had been a virgin, she seemed to adapt to 
sex so readily, he found he was soon learning all kinds of variations from 
her; things she had thought she'd made up, not realizing nothing on earth is 
really new. What she had believed were new sexual ideas were simply things 
practiced by every bawd since the oldest profession had come into existence. 

Frischeen had enjoyed every moment with his wife. When he had become 
wealthy, he had enjoyed showering her with all kinds of gifts. He had been 
certain she would outlive him. How was he to know she had a weak heart? She 
had died in the throes of orgasm one night, and as a result, he had been 
afraid to become physically involved with a woman for a long time afterward. 

It had taken a whore to draw him out of his shell, and he hadn't even known 
she was a whore, or he never would have had anything to do with her. A 
friend of his, Angelo Mendetto, had seen the way he'd been physically 
suffering, and had paid a high-class whore five hundred dollars to seduce 
him while he'd been away at a hotel for a weekend. She had casually met him 
and in no time had wiped out all his fears. Then she had disappeared. But 
Harold Frischeen knew he had his confidence back. From then on, it had 
simply been a matter of discrimination as to whom he would sleep with. When 
he'd seen Priscilla, he had instinctively known she was a woman he wanted. 
Now he was pleased to find her wanting him just as much as he had wanted 
her. 

Looking at Priscilla, he knew she was very young, but he also knew hers was 
the kind of body that would hold up over many, many years. The man who 
eventually ended up marrying her would be very fortunate. He had no doubt 
she had some sexual experience, but from the way she was undulating, he 
could tell, compared to his wife she was a rank amateur. She was a sexy rank 
amateur, but she was still an amateur. But she would learn, and when she was 
fully versed, he was certain, her husband, whoever he was, would die in her 
arms. She was the kind of girl who could take on an entire army and make 
each man feel he was the one she truly loved. 

His eyes rested on her ivory-white thighs, looking up into the valley 
between them, gazing at the pink, narrow vaginal slit wetly shining with a 
heavy flush of juices she was beginning to heavily secrete. 

Priscilla's other hand was patting the bed beside her as she motioned for 
him to lie beside her. 

"I can stay like this all afternoon, if you can," she teased. "But since I'm 
rubbing my own vagina for you, the least you could do is give me some kind 
of thrill by pulling on that thick pole of yours." 

Her two experiences the previous week had made Pris very aware of men, their 
wants and their needs. From the licentious look in Frischeen's eyes, she was 
fully aware he wanted to get on with it, but for the first time in a long 
time, he seemed uncertain. It was as if he feared touching her would 
actually be violating something pure. She had to writhe some more on the 
mattress so her bouncing, rounded ass-cheeks seemed to corkscrew their way 
into the bedcover. She enjoyed the way her exhibiting of herself made his 
throbbing prick swell even more as his scrotum tightened around his swelling 
testicles. 

"You're one hell of a cockteaser, aren't you?" he said, smiling at the 
obscene way her hips gyrated on the bed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, and his hands reached out to run lightly over 
her small, ripe, fruit-like breasts, pausing to pinch each grape-like pink 
nipple. 

"Ahhhhh," she gasped. "No, Mr. Frischeen, Td make a very poor cockteaser, as 
you call it." And her free hand reached down and wrapped itself around the 
thick pike of his shuddering cock. "Oh my goodness, that has to be the 
biggest cock I've ever touched." 

"Then you haven't touched very many," he said. "Although I'm big, there are 
many considerably bigger. And stop calling me Mr. Frischeen. That's much too 
formal considering our circumstances. My name is Harold. From now on you 
will refer to me as Harold. When you call me on the phone you will address 
me as Harold. Is that clear?" 

His own fingertips rode smoothly down over her flat, white belly into the 
patch of feather-light black hair curling beneath the palm of the hand she 
still had thrust between her thighs. Little by little his hand moved under 
her working fingers and took their place, massaging her clitoris with his 
own fingers, making her groan and sigh, feeling her hand squeeze his 
pulsating cock a little harder. 

"And you are Prissy," he told her. "And what I am now touching is Prissy's 
pretty pussy." 

There was burning heat coming from the wet hole between her thighs, and his 
finger now dipped into the flaming well, parting the inner lips a little, 
opening her up, realizing how unbelievably tight she was. He moved the tip 
of his finger around and around inside the tight oval mouth of her pulsating 
vaginal entrance. 

"That hot cunt of yours is really ready," he whispered. "Now open those 
thighs wide and I'll give you a big surprise." 

But before Frischeen could do anything, Pris suddenly clamped her thighs 
tightly shut, squeezing her hot cuntlips around the tip of his invading 
finger as she began wildly humping up and down on the bed. 

"Oh Godd!" she gasped. "Godddddd! I'm . . . uhhhh . . . going to come . . . 
going to come. . . come . . . COMMMMMM! UGGGGHHHH!" 

And she began bucking even more crazily, her compressing cuntlips rubbing 
harder and harder against the fingertip moving in and out of her. Her hand 
squeezed his cock all the more tightly, jerking it up and down, and now 
Frischeen felt himself gasping. 

"You keep that up," he told her, "and I'll . . . uggghhhh . . . shoot all 
over the ceiling . . . " 

Pris was still moving up and down, out of control, unaware her hand was 
clutching Frischeen's throbbing cock. She screamed again as a third orgasm 
shot through her. God! She no longer had any control over herself. Once the 
climaxes started coming, they didn't seem to stop. 

Frischeen was amazed at the girl's capacity to orgasm. No female he had ever 
known, his wife included, had ever been able to come like this girl. The way 
her vaginal interior was contracting let him know there was no way he would 
be able to fit his pulsating phallus into that narrow channel. And he knew 
his fucking instrument was too thick to fit into an asshole. Besides, he 
always considered ass-fucking something of a crudity. True, he had done it 
once or twice in his life, but never with women he respected. No, ass 
fucking was out of the question. True, there was always her mouth, but it 
always seemed to him not to be in good taste for him to broach the subject 
first. 

Pris, through the haze of her climax, realized what was happening. Her 
orgasms were so close and so powerful, there was no way her cunt would open 
up enough to let him fit his cock inside. Yet she didn't dare walk out and 
leave him frustrated. 

She was fully aware she had been frustrated for a long time prior to her 
meeting with Paul Fink. After he had fucked her, she'd had her first good 
night's sleep in two years. She had no intention of letting Harold Frischeen 
suffer such tortures. 

Little by little her own orgasms subsided, and her thighs slowly opened, 
releasing Frischeen's hand. Her own hand loosened its hold on his throbbing 
cock, and though she now cupped his balls, she did so very delicately. 

Priscilla sat up, and with a slight pressure from her palm, forced him to 
lie back on the bed. She knew she had to make good. Disappointing him would 
be like disappointing herself. 

She stared at the upstanding poker, seeing the leaking fluid seeping from 
its tip. With her finger she tried rubbing the fluid back into his flesh, 
but the more she rubbed, the more fluid kept seeping out. 

Thinking back, she remembered Steffie telling her Paul Fink had made her use 
her mouth the way he'd made Pris use her pussy. Too, Frischeen had a very 
thick cock, and if a thin cock, like Ralph Espizza's had been designed for 
her ass, a thick one like 

Harold Frischeen's, too thick now to fit into her snapping tight cunt, would 
fit perfectly into her mouth. 

"I'm new at this," she told him, sitting up on her knees, staring into his 
eyes. "If I don't do it right, please don't be angry. I'm doing my best. I 
really am." 

"Hey," he smiled, his body still trembling. "Stop worrying. Whatever we do, 
we do because we enjoy it. You don't have to make explanations to me. You 
just enjoy whatever it is you do, like I've been enjoying myself." 

Pris wished all men were like this one. There would be a lot less trouble in 
the world if it were so. God! He was wonderful. 

Her two hands clutched his thick, long rod, massaging the heavy pole. She 
leaned forward, face a few inches from the tip of the towering massivity. 
Her cool breath seemed to blow all over the rigid phallus, drying the thick, 
oily fluid seeping from it. The mere touch of her breath was enough to set 
his swollen dork shuddering anew. 

Frischeen stared, fascinated, his body up on its elbows, his entire self 
trembling from the effect of his desire for her. For some reason he was able 
to sense her anxiety. She had confessed he was the first she was doing this 
to, and it made him feel good, knowing she was still unknowing about certain 
things. When a woman knew more than he, he became afraid of the woman. 

And then that anxious moment for which he had been waiting arrived as her 
tongue, of its own free will and accord, suddenly leaped out of her mouth 
and caught a drop just emerging from the tiny slit in his phallic glans. The 
head of his penis trembled and swelled even more as he felt the light tingle 
of her tongue against him. 

Pris felt the texture of the head of his cock with her tongue, and found it 
was smoother than she had imagined it to be. When touching it with her 
fingers it had always seemed rougher than the rest of his throbbing dick. 
She hadn't known what to expect, but so far, she had to admit to herself, 
she was not the least bit afraid. There was no way he would hurt her. And 
this knowledge, more than anything else made her bold. 

Her tongue began slowly circling the throbbing head, and soon maddening 
chills were shooting through his entire body. They began deep down inside, 
then rumbled to the top, shooting out through his skin. 

Frischeen's hand reached down and his fingers coiled themselves in her ebony 
hair, slowly bringing her red, lip stick painted mouth closer to his 
throbbing putz. And then he felt the warm oval of her lips as they slowly 
closed around his thrumming penial point. Her soft inner mouth closed slowly 
around his hot prick, sending wild, aching sensations shooting through his 
body. Oh God! It had been so long, so long. Frischeen couldn't take the 
slowness. Oh Christ! It was too much to bear. 

With a loud bellow that echoed around the room, he pressed down on her head, 
driving his hot cock forward into the burning depths of her quivering mouth, 
ramming relentlessly until he felt his rubbery point strike her throat. He 
held it there a long moment and was gratified to feel her lips close tightly 
around it as her hot, buttery mouth sucked, her jaws strongly pulling, her 
tongue rubbing up and down against the sensitive underside. 

Priscilla would never know what it was that made her clamp her lips so 
tightly around the pulsating prick, but she did know now that it was solidly 
in her mouth, she didn't want to let go. Mmmmm! God! It tasted wonderful, 
like nothing she'd ever sucked before. Unable to control herself, she felt 
her mouth sucking more and more of it in, rubbing the leaking point against 
the back of her throat, sucking, licking wildly with her tongue, tasting a 
rich, meaty flavor. She even risked chewing a little, and found him jumping 
in response, as if enjoying what her teeth were doing. If it had been her 
choice, she would have remained that way, with the flesh staff jammed into 
her mouth, with two inches still protruding below her lips. 

But the choice wasn't hers; it was Frischeen's. He was the one to be made 
happy at this point. So when he bounced his own ass up and down on the bed, 
using his fingers to grip her hair tightly and move her head up as he was 
going down, then down as he was going up, starting a long, stroking 
movement, she obeyed, understanding what he wanted. His swollen dork seemed 
to swell even more as he brought it to a greater sensitivity, running it 
back and forth between her lips. 

Staring at the way his solid hunk of meaty muscle moved in and out between 
the circle of her lips intensified the licentious thrills shooting through 
his inner self. God! He felt hotter and hotter. His throbbing prick was now 
glistening with her saliva as it ran in and out of her mouth, looking like 
nothing less than a drenched log of yielding wood. At the same time her 
hands were gently rubbing his soft balls, moving them around in their sac 
without causing pain. Then one hand moved to fill that two-inch gap at the 
base of his cock, ringing it with her thumb and fingers, pumping in time to 
the way her head was moving up and down. He was able to feel the softness of 
her inexpert tongue swirl maddeningly around the tip each time her head 
rose, the point of her tongue literally slicing into the little slit in the 
head of his cock, slurping out more of the viscous fluid. His eyes were 
riveted to what her mouth was doing, but his hands were no longer holding 
her head. It was bobbing without any pressure from his fingers. Her mouth 
slurped loudly in its obscene labors around his pulsing prick. The 
lascivious sight drove him crazier with each passing moment. 

Pris felt her mouth completely clogged with the huge, swollen cock. Her 
tongue could sense the way it throbbed, and now she tightened the grip of 
her lips, sucking, sucking, sucking. The edges of her teeth pressed into the 
thickness of his shank, leaving a trail of white, bloodless scrapes under 
the skin. She shifted her position slightly, making herself a little more 
comfortable and enabling her to take in another quarter inch of pulsating 
prick. Her hand, which had been playing with his balls, now roamed between 
his thighs and began teasing his asshole. She squeezed his flat ass-cheeks, 
as well, and this brought loud moans from deep within him. Her tongue 
continued its teasing, roaming around the thick head of the hard cock, 
feeling the gland swell even more as she rammed her face a little closer to 
his crotch, feeling the point of his penis actually press into her gullet. 
She almost gagged, but caught herself. She didn't want to make any sounds 
that would interrupt his enjoyment of what she was doing. She knew her 
esophagus had a narrow entrance, still . . . she wondered if she could fit 
the swollen cock inside. If so, if she could take the entire head and an 
inch of shaft into her tight gullet, her lips would be able to touch the 
hairy base of his pelvis. Just why this was important, Priscilla didn't 
know, yet somehow, in some way, she felt she had to be able to suck the 
entire wonderful length of hard prick into her mouth and keep it there until 
he finally came. 

Frischeen felt the storm building in his balls and knew it wouldn't be long 
now. This might have been her first time, but in the girl's anxiety to 
please she was performing better than many women he had known who were 
experienced. His thrusting, swollen pecker head felt as if it were ready to 
burst. 

It was so enlarged, he was certain the girl's narrow throat, clogged as it 
was, would gag. Yet he continued stroking his solid prong deeper and deeper, 
and her tongue continued licking with maddening spirals, and her lips sucked 
loud and noisily as she appeared unaware of any thing save the long, 
throbbing length of rigid muscle pumping between her lips. 

Tremendous torrents of sensation were building higher and higher in his 
aching testicles, and he could see perspiration forming heavily all over her 
face and forehead. The more her face plunged up and down on his pumping 
staff, the heavier the sheen of perspiration became, and then he could feel 
the heavy droplets falling on his groin and thighs as drops continued 
falling down the side of her face. Her head was moving up and down more 
rapidly than any hand could pump, and he could see her hanging little 
breasts bouncing wildly as they dangled, the nipples time and again touching 
his thighs. 

Frischeen felt the strong muscles in his stomach tighten, and he arched his 
back upward, slamming his thighs higher toward her beautiful face, thrilled 
so lovely a countenance was surrounding his meaty cock. His loins jerked 
excitedly, moving closer and closer to her lovely face, partially obscured 
by the dangling midnight-hair clinging to her alternately bloated and 
hollowed cheeks. He fucked upward even faster and harder now, slamming his 
thick penis between those slender sucking lips, watching them pull out, 
displaying their inner pink softness each time he tugged his hard cock back. 

Pris was able to take a little more of his throbbing phallus into the depths 
of her throat each time, her gullet ring opening a bit more as she relaxed 
it. Little by little her head was going lower and lower, and her narrow lips 
were reaching closer and closer to their hairy goal. As it was, his pelvic 
curls tickled her nose and brushed her upper lip. Now she had to feel the 
flesh of his pelvis through the brown matting of hair there. 

Had she witnessed some other female doing this first, she might well have 
been disgusted. But because she, herself, was involved in it, inhaling his 
strong, pleasing masculine scent, tasting the smooth, meaty flavor of his 
vibrating cock, she became aroused all over again. Her thighs clamped 
together as the outer vaginal lips clamped tightly around the large, 
extended clitoris. She was unaware of the fact her clitoris was half again 
as long as that of most women. It felt compressed between her tightly 
squeezing cuntlips, and she proceeded to rub her thighs back and forth, 
massaging and stimulating the tiny organ. Wild thrills were chasing 
themselves through her womanly body as she sucked all the more strongly, 
now. The penis in her mouth was no longer there so she could give him 
pleasure. By rubbing into her gullet, it was giving her pleasure. There was 
an erotic area in her throat that was being massaged again and again by the 
moving cock, and though she still felt a slight choking sensation, it made 
her that much more aroused. Although she found it hard to believe, it was 
possible for a woman to have an oral orgasm, as well. 

Frischeen groaned repeatedly, his mouth opening and closing as he gasped out 
incoherent mumblings. His teeth slammed together again and again, unable to 
believe so young and inexperienced a girl was building such wild sensations 
in him. The last time he had felt such wild sensations had been an eon ago, 
when he had first bedded down his wife. 

Once more, his hands flew to her head. She had the entire thick cock in her 
mouth now. She was swallowing the full length again and again, massaging it 
with her lips and driving him wild. He was thrusting into her so fast, his 
ass was a blur. Had anyone slipped small stones beneath his ass as he moved, 
he would have ground them to powder the way his buttocks was slamming into 
the mattress. The moment was no longer approaching; it was there. He was 
going to come. He was going to shoot his load, and he was going to fire it 
into her belly via her throat without giving her tongue or lips a chance to 
taste it. 

"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" he growled and grumbled, the low guttural sound rising 
out of his chest as he felt the lava-like sperm began its rapid travel up 
from his steaming balls, through the slender tube in the underside of his 
pulsing prick, finally jetting in needle-thin streams down her hungry 
throat. Priscilla's passion-flushed cheeks hollowed in all the more tightly, 
pressing around the thickness of his cock stem, greedily gulping the tasty 
seed down her anxious throat, letting it form pools in her belly. It wasn't 
until he began shrinking, and his penis could no longer fit its full length 
into her mouth and down her throat that she was finally able to taste the 
white seed. Against her tongue and palate it was like creamed caviar, and 
she swallowed and pulled with her lips, hoping to drain more of his dripping 
spunk from inside his thrusting phallic worm. 

The harder she sucked, the more jism she pulled out, and the more she 
drained him, the smaller his cock shriveled. Finally, she decided it was 
empty. There was nothing more she could suck from him. But she continued 
compressing the spongy head between her lips as she rolled her thighs 
together again and again, suddenly shuddering as another series of orgasms 
overtook her. Her lips pulled even more tightly on his tiny cock as tremors 
wracked her body over and over. 

When her own inner earthquake had subsided, Pris finally removed her lips 
from his drained cock. She felt weak and limp, and made no resistance as he 
dragged her up beside him. 

"You're quite a woman," he told her. "I've never known anyone quite like 
you." 

"That makes two of us," she answered, "since I've never encountered anyone 
like you." 

"I'd like to see more of you," he insisted. 

"There isn't much more of me you can see unless you want X-rays." 

"You know what I mean," he told her. 

"Yes," she nodded. "I know what you mean. And I think it can be arragned, 
from time to time. I find you utterly fascinating." 

She fell asleep after that. 

When she awoke, he had coffee perking. She would have made love with him 
again, but he confessed she had drained him. 

"There'll be other times," he assured her. "Lots of them." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Harold Frischeen's trust account was immense, and Ed Horner was amazed 
Priscilla had been able to bring it into the house of Sternfeld & Hertz. But 
then, Steffie had also brought in two nice-sized accounts. The girls were 
turning out to be the two most valuable members of the company. They had 
already made substantial trades in the accounts they'd brought in, and each 
would be taking home two hundred and fifty dollars a week for the next four 
months. Their accounts were building up nicely. 

The next name on the list they had taken from Jacobson & Co. was Joanne 
DeFranco. Pris realized she might have a bit more trouble convincing Ms. De 
Franco to switch her account, since she doubted the woman would be 
interested in the same benefits she had to offer Harold Frischeen. But she 
had to try. The account was nearly a half million dollars big, though Pris 
was willing to bet it had been much bigger before Paul Fink had gotten his 
hands on it. 

Pris called the woman and set up an appointment for the following week. Her 
own period had come, and the cramps were very annoying. For the rest of that 
week, she sat in the Sternfeld & Hertz board room, watching the stocks go by 
on the ticker tape. Herman Horowitz, the board room manager soon became an 
annoyance. He was large, overweight, burly, with white hair and a a nasty 
temper. True, he was showing his best side to Pris, but she had seen him 
chew out more than one broker for not producing enough business. A man like 
that could be a detriment to the firm, since he wanted men trading their 
clients in and out for commissions, regardless of whether or not it was good 
for the clients. He was a good producer, himself, but she was willing to bet 
his customers suffered because of it. When he continued attempting to 
ingratiate himself with her, she finally snapped, "Get away from me, Herman. 
I'm in the trust department. I'm not in your jurisdiction. I don't owe you a 
damn thing." 

"I could do you a lot of good while you're here," 

Horowitz told her. "So you keep a civil tongue in your head when talking to 
me." 

"The way I'm producing, they're more-likely to fire you than me. So sit on 
it, Herman." 

Meanwhile, Steffie had brought in a third account. It was the small one Paul 
Fink had originally given her to placate her for teaching her how to use her 
mouth. The customer was overjoyed to finally see someone show an interest in 
his account for his sake rather than for the trades that could be made. 

The week seemed to take forever. Pris wanted to get on with making money. 
She had never thought it could be so enjoyable. 

Sunday, the fifth day of her period, she went to a local drugstore and got 
Dr. Espizza's prescription filled. And she began taking the pills as 
prescribed. 

Her parents were proud of her, making good in so short a time. It was 
unbelievable. To think, their little girl was succeeding in the world of 
high finance. And as far as they were concerned, business seemed to agree 
with her. Her body had a healthier glow to it, she was smiling all the time. 
Yes, work was good for their daughter. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Monday afternoon, Pris went to visit Joanne DeFranco. The woman lived in an 
elite part of town, in a small, three-room apartment reeking with elegance. 
There was something different about Joanne, and Pris sensed it the moment 
she entered the apartment. For all its elegance, it was not feminine. All 
the furniture, all the designs were masculine. And Joanne, herself, a 
stunning brunette, had her brown hair tied back in a bow, and was wearing a 
wine-colored velvet suit, with a white, man-tailored blouse, and a 
wine-colored, matching tie. She looked about thirty. 

Pris sat on the large Victorian sofa and explained the reason for her visit, 
and Joanne listened. When Pris was finished, Joanne said, "I agree, I could 
do much worse than to take the account away from the trust department at 
Jacobson, but even though you've explained to me what you would do to 
improve it, how can I be certain about you?" 

"I don't understand," Pris replied. 

"Dear girl," Joanne said, pouring out two glasses of cognac. "I confess my 
knowledge of finances is limited. But my knowledge of banks and investment 
companies is fairly good. Most banks, brokerage firms, and the like don't 
give a damn about the individual accounts they handle. Most accounts, like 
mine, are almost always poorly mismanaged. One must get to know the 
individual on a personal basis when allowing that individual to manage the 
account. For instance, I knew Tony Dorano, the man who handled the Jacobson 
trust department before this Mr. Fink. Mr. Dorano was a fine man, and under 
him, my account grew from a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to nearly 
three quarters of a million. Mr. Fink has reversed the process, and I have 
been looking for a company to manage whatever is left of my money before Mr. 
Fink utterly wipes out the account. But I'd like some sign of good faith on 
your part. I mean, unless there's some kind of personal bond between us, I 
don't think I'd dare let my account into your hands." 

"Well, I'd very much like to give you a sign of good faith, as you call it," 
Priscilla responded. "But I don't quite know what it is you want." 

"Dear girl," Joanne told her, reaching out and touching her shoulder. "The 
sign I want is something pleasant, very pleasant. I'm certain if we come to 
an agreement concerning a personal relationship, we can extend that 
agreement to financial matters." 

Pris began understanding, even though it still wasn't completely clear to 
her. She'd had no idea a woman would want some kind of sexual relationship 
with her, yet that was precisely what Joanne DeFranco seemed to be 
proposing. She had heard of this kind of woman. She was a Lesbian. 

Having discovered relationships between men and women were far from the 
disgusting thing her parents had attempted to make her believe, it occurred 
to Pris a relationship with a woman might be similarly interesting. It might 
even be enjoyable. By playing with another woman, Pris decided she might be 
able to discover what it was about her body that fascinated men. 

"I quite agree," Pris nodded. 

"Good," the other woman smiled, putting down her empty cognac glass. Pris 
did he same. Then the two women got to their feet, as Joanne said, "I think 
you'll agree, a bed will be far more comfortable." 

"Yes, yes," Pris nodded. 

Her legs felt a little weak. For some reason she felt uncomfortable. Had 
Joanne been a man, the whole thing would have been exciting, but the idea of 
a woman seemed a little too much. Yet, she had already agreed, and she knew 
full well to back out now would be to lose the account. Where, with Harold 
Frischeen, her body was simply a pleasure instrument to be enjoyed, with 
Joanne DeFranco it had become a tool of business. 

"You're very beautiful," Joanne told her, as they entered the bedroom. "But 
then you know that. You'd have to be blind not to see it." 

"Thank you," Pris nodded. "You're very lovely yourself." 

"Handsome," Joanne told her. "I'm handsome. Come, let me help you undress." 

Her hands were gentle, and Pris felt very warm. More, she felt a little 
dizzy. The cognac. There had been something in it. She slowly sank to the 
bed and lay down, feeling as if she were lying in a row boat, floating on a 
quiet lake. Her body felt tiny prickles, and she knew she wanted to be loved 
and caressed. 

Joanne's fingers moved slowly, opening the buttons of Pris' blouse, not 
wanting to disturb the tranquil feeling the girl was first starting to 
enjoy. One by one she undid the buttons, then removed the blouse. 

Yes, she had drugged the girl with a mild aphrodisiac. There weren't 
supposed to be any real aphrodisiacs, but Joanne knew better. The drug she 
was using was totally different from any of the hard stuff being sold in the 
underworld market, nor was it anything like banana peel scrapings or LSD or 
even pot. It came from the jungles of South America, and it induced a state 
of euphoria, titillating the sexual organs from within, making the erogenous 
zones more sensitive to manipulation. It had cost Joanne a small fortune to 
get her hands on an ounce of the stuff, but she was glad she'd paid it. The 
stuff was terrific. It always worked, but most important, its only 
after-effect, which took place at least once a day, each day for the rest of 
the week, was to create the desire for sexual contact inside the person who 
had taken it. 

With the blouse off, Joanne paused to look at Priscilla's lovely body, 
studying the details of her small, firm, bra-covered breasts along with her 
shapely hips and slightly curvaceous thighs. Yes, this was more than a 
lovely girl. This was an exceptionally stunning girl, and she, Joanne, had 
to possess her. Yes, once she totally undressed the luscious young creature, 
the two of them would truly be able to enjoy one another. There was no doubt 
in Joanne's mind this was Pris' first experience with another woman. Yet 
Joanne was gentle enough, and she knew she could make it enjoyable for the 
innocent young girl. 

She had to kneel on the bed to turn the lush brunette onto her belly so she 
could work the skirt down and off, as well. 

"Golly," Pris gasped. "I feel like I'm free-floating in the air." She almost 
giggled she felt so high. But she remained lying still, almost like a dead 
weight as Joanne got off the bed again. Cool air in the room seemed to 
saturate her body, tickling her, yet arousing her. 

"Only the bra and pantyhose and we'll be ready," Joanne assured her, 
removing her shoes. 

Unhooking the back of the girl's bra, she then reached down and began 
working both, panties and pantyhose off the girl's body. Her bare back was 
alabaster white, and Joanne noted the girl had no blemishes of any kind. 
There wasn't even a beauty mark on her. Her skin had a light sheen of 
perspiration, creating the illusion of white satin. 

The melon-shaped swells of Pris' buttocks looked delightful. Joanne had the 
panties and hose below her thighs, and could see the dark crevice between 
the girl's perfectly rounded ass-cheeks. The quivering jelly-like firmness 
seemed to excite Joanne even more. She, too, had sipped a bit of the 
aphrodisiac, and could feel the heat building in her own body. Reaching 
between the girl's thighs, she felt the wetness of her steaming nookie, and 
became even more excited and aroused. 

"Ummmmm," Pris sighed as she felt the light, gentle contact of Joanne's 
fingers against her tender vaginal lips. Wild, shivering chills went soaring 
up and down her spine, and her emotions confused her. These were the same 
feelings she'd felt with Harold Frischeen. A fiery sensation in her lower 
belly was growing and becoming more demanding. Yet the hotter she became, 
the higher she seemed to free-float. She put pressure on her elbows and 
breasts, lifting the lower half of her up to allow the easier removal of her 
panties and hose. 

Pleased by Priscilla's response to touch, Joan removed the garments, and 
looking at the white, naked beauty in front of her, felt somewhat bolder. 
From the girl's even breathing, she was afraid Pris might have fallen 
asleep. Her own heart began pounding, worrying she might have given her too 
much of the aphrodisiac. Reaching out with her hand, she let her figure 
slowly tease their way up Pris' thigh. 

"Yessssss," Pris hissed. "That feels so nice, so very nice." 

Joanne was relieved to find the girl wide awake, even if she was drifting 
deeper and deeper into her euphoric state. Her mind might feel as if it were 
drifting, but she wouldn't be too far gone. There would be no numbness, 
neither of the body nor of the mind. Pris would be able to appreciate 
everything going on. The girl's cunt was dripping with liquid seeping from 
within. Joanne was going to have one big ball. 

Standing, Joanne undressed herself, revealing an excellent feminine figure. 
She had the good sense not to abuse her body, even if it was a female body. 
She had tits, and she'd be damned if she would slice them off just because 
the masculine hormones inside her outbalanced the feminine hormones. 
Confronted with this lush, wonderful naked body, she intended enjoying it to 
the fullest, and she'd see to it Pris enjoyed it all, as well. 

This was the kind of girl with whom she could easily fall in love. She would 
have to be careful. To fall in love with her would be to let herself be 
dominated by the girl. That was something Joanne didn't want. But she 
couldn't help feeling stimulated by the idea of making love to this sweet 
girl. She knew most of the rest of the world looked down on things like this 
as unnatural and obscene, but at the same time she was aware she needed this 
perverseness, and couldn't keep away from it. Still relatively young, with 
wide, flaring hips and a swollen cunt, her large, bouncing tits only seemed 
to heighten her need to play with another woman. Often, when she was alone, 
she closed her eyes and sucked on her own nipples, pretending another woman 
was with her. She had small aureoles, dark brown, matching her dark brown 
nipples. 

"Priscilla?" she called out to the young girl, once more sitting on the bed. 

Pris only murmured her response, sounding incoherent because her mind was 
centered on the wonderful feelings shooting through her. She was dreaming 
about the bedroom scene she had shared with Harold Frischeen. It seemed very 
real to her at that moment. After all, there was a naked body on the bed 
beside hers. Deep inside there was that overwhelming need to be loved and 
fucked. Her body was burning to be satisfied, and she wanted it to be teased 
and caressed all over. 

"Ummmm . . . yesssss.. . yesssss.. . " she gasped as Joanne softly ran 
fingers up and down her sensitive spine. 

Joanne was ready to whisper to the girl again, but then changed her mind. 
She decided words at this point were superfluous. She had some sort of spell 
over the girl, and talking might break it. Pris was reacting exactly as she 
wanted, so the smartest thing would be to speak with her hands. 

Joanne's nipples were harder than chips of coal, and she could feel the 
heavy wetness forming in the soft folds of her own sucking cunt. Her 
continued caressing of Pris was making her more and more aroused. Bending 
forward, Joanne kissed the young girl's naked back, using her tongue to draw 
a wet line from the nape of her neck down to the top of her buttocks. 

"Unnnnnhhhhh . . . ooooooooh . . . goooood," Pris sighed, feeling tiny 
sensations of heated flesh moistly running down her back. 

God! Pris thought, first realizing what was happening to her. The woman was 
so unbelievably gentle, so delightful. She seemed to know just what to do. 
She wanted the fondling to go on indefinitely. 

The girl was enjoying what she was doing, and it made Joanne feel good. As a 
female, she wished to impart nothing but pleasure to other females, and it 
made her happy to know when she was succeeding. She had an overpowering urge 
to turn the girl over and press herself against her, belly to belly and 
breast to breast. But Pris wasn't ready for that yet. Soon, though, very 
soon. 

Now her tongue was running over the satin smoothness of each of Pris' 
ass-cheeks, and the thrilling, tantalizing scent of the girl's vaginal 
juices reached her nostrils, making them quiver. It mingled with the fainter 
scent of her own arousal. Soon she would have this precious girl so 
thrilled, she would beg for a cock. And though she was a woman, she had a 
"cock" she would be able to supply to the girl. 

Joanne snapped her tongue back into her mouth, parting Pris' thighs even 
wider, and began blowing cool air into her. The air tickled Pris' labia, 
tantalized her inner labia, and ran up into her hot, burning pussy. Pris 
groaned and sighed, then gasped as Joanne's tongue moved between her inner 
thighs, touching her outer cuntlips, lapping the colorless sauce from them, 
then moving the tongue to the crevices where her legs joined her torso. 

The teasing tongue touching her tender vaginal slices was like an electric 
wire sending lustful charges into her body, blistering her with shuddering 
desire. The thrilling feelings seemed to paralyze her, and even if she'd 
wanted to resist, Pris knew better than to try. The warmth of the cover and 
pillow under her body and face, rubbing against the solid nipples of her 
small, full breasts gave her a strange security that whatever happened would 
be for the best. It was all so good, she didn't want it to stop . . . ever. 
Pris made up her mind Joanne could do whatever she pleased. Her aching cunt 
was tingling with anxiety, and now she spread her thighs all the wider, 
giving that marvelous tongue greater access to the pool of her pink pussy. 

Raven hair, even on her pelvis, Joanne noted, seeing strands sticking out 
from beneath the pink, primrose inner path. God! It was one lovely sight. 
Her mouth was watering, and she had to swallow to keep the saliva from 
spilling all over the girl's thighs. 

Reaching between Priscilla's thighs with her left hand, Joanne slowly moved 
her middle finger through the wet slice into the sodden hole. Then she 
backed the finger out of the sucking swamp and moved along the coral crevice 
until she felt the long, hard, shuddering clitoris. She was amazed at the 
length and thickness of it, and envied Pris her sensitive nodule. She could 
feel the black, curling hairs rub against the tip of her finger, and used 
the thumb and forefinger of her other hand to part the pink pussylips even 
more widely. Her eyes stared at the rich, healthy, inner labia, and she felt 
hungrier than ever. This was a pussy meant for eating. When she moved her 
other hand back, she was actually able to see the long, pink nubbin of 
Priscilla's clitoris. The sight of it aroused her all the more, and she 
tickled the sensitive bud with her finger. 

"Uuuuunnnggghhh!" Pris gasped, as the tickling finger lightly teased the 
pink extension again and again. 

To Priscilla's mind, all the pleasures she had recalled, feeling Paul Fink's 
cock in her cunt, Ralph Espizza's prick in her tight asshole, and Harold 
Frischeen's stolid organ in her throat, returned. Even though nothing was 
touching her inner vaginal walls, nothing was teasing her asshole, and 
nothing was jammed down her throat, all the sensitive inner pressures seemed 
to be massaged. More orgasms welled up inside her, tantalizing her body 
again and again, teasing her, telling her she was coming, and yet.. . the 
climaxes weren't strong enough. They only seemed to make her feel hotter. 
Stimulating charges of sensual bliss came shooting from her body, blasting 
from the nerve center of her beaded clitoris. She began writhing against the 
bed, pressing her sensitive clitoris into the cover while feeling Joanne's 
massaging finger raise her to new, even more delectable heights. Her breath 
was coming in short, heavy gasps, and the blaze in her pussy was becoming 
stronger and stronger. 

And then, Joanne's moving finger once again slipped into the sucking well of 
her steaming pussy. The slender finger, imitating a wonderful prick, tickled 
the scalloped edges of her inner labia, moving around and around and around. 
Then, just as it seemed it might push in more deeply, it once again 
withdrew. Pris writhed her body more intensely into the mattress, seeking 
the tempting finger. Her vaginal lips, like clamps, reached out and tried 
gripping the finger, but she couldn't find it. 

"More," Priscilla begged. "More, more, more. Give me more." 

Her moaning voice sounded as if she were drunk as Joanne once again slid her 
middle finger into the seething center of her sopping slit. She pushed the 
finger deeper and deeper this time, not stopping until the entire length of 
it was sucked all the way into her. Her finger ground around and around, 
while her palm pressed against the brunette's ass-cheeks, forcing the twin 
globes of her buttocks apart until her heel was actually grinding against 
the girl's puckered anal center. Now the finger worked in and out of the 
wet, gooey cuntal bog, bringing Pris to a higher level on the erotic scale. 
And Joanne felt intensely delighted, knowing she was the one making Pris 
wriggle all over the bed. God! Watching the way the girl was moving made her 
want to impale her own vagina. Not that she wanted a man's penis. Men were 
too boorish, too thoughtless, too concerned with fitting themselves into the 
narrow, tender passageways to think how it might be affecting the women they 
were fucking. Joanne had been fucked by men. Hell! She'd been laid, relayed, 
parlayed, and even filleted. But the fact that there was a man on the other 
end of the instrument wedged into her seemed to take away from the pleasure. 

Hell! Her own cunt would receive plenty of enjoyment. Right now, she had to 
make sure Priscilla was enjoying everything. That was the thing of primary 
importance. Soon, she would have the girl so piping hot, when she turned her 
over, and the girl saw her, another female, doing all these things to her, 
she would accept her as casually as if she were a handsome, sexy male. 

With her right hand, Joanne reached under the body of the prone girl and 
managed to grab her right nipple. This she began squeezing and pinching 
while she continued reaming her finger in and out of the beautiful girl's 
flooding snatch. The enlarging excitement in her own body became almost 
unbearable. She could no longer think of merely gratifying the girl. She had 
to do things to please herself, as well. Each sigh and gasp of enjoyment 
coming from Priscilla's open mouth seemed to mirror the feelings going on 
inside Joanne. From the intensity of feeling enlarging between her own 
thighs she knew she would have to do something now, or explode. 

Keeping her left middle finger inside Pris' pussy, she used her right hand 
to reach out to the other night table, opening the top drawer. Reaching 
inside, she pulled out a long box. Opening the box, she unwrapped the dildo 
she kept cleaned and jellied in there. She was so hot, she was ready to ram 
the cock-like instrument into her own teeming vagina. But no, no, she had to 
use it on Pris. She could use it on herself, later. She had to make the girl 
enjoy all this so much, she would want to come back and try all this without 
any kind of stimulation. 

The dildo had been carefully cleaned so there would be no irritants to 
inflame vaginal tissue. Then it had been coated with a vaginal jelly and 
wrapped in a special skin-like cover of fish membrane to keep it sanitary 
until it was ready for use. 

Holding up the large, thick phallus, a spire both longer and thicker than 
sported between the thighs of any normal male, she felt a sense of power 
flooding through her own body, knowing she would be jamming it between the 
thighs of the helplessly writhing girl beneath her. This thrilled and 
excited her all the more, making the hot sauce in her creaming cunt bubble 
even faster. Yes, she was more than anxious to hold the cock in her hand and 
plug it into the helpless girl. 

When Joanne finally pulled her middle finger from the seething depths of 
Pris' pussy, the slender brunette reached behind her in an attempt to catch 
the hand and shove it back in. But Joanne took the same finger and brought 
it to her mouth, sniffing it, then sucking on it, licking of fall the tasty 
fluids she had scooped out of Pris' throbbing cunt. Then she pressed the 
finger into her own flaming center. 

Pris began rubbing her anxious cunt, feeling another orgasm lingering 
nearby. She didn't want the small, teasing orgasms she'd been experiencing. 
Now she wanted a huge, overpowering, gut-wrenching climax to tear all the 
anxiety out of her. 

And then she felt herself being rolled over onto her back by warm, gentle 
hands. She expected someone like Harold Frischeen to be there, ready to ram 
his long, thick, solid muscle into her. Her mind was spinning, and she could 
no longer clearly think about what was going on. She shut her eyes in an 
attempt to ease the spinning sensations in her brain. 

"Now!" she screamed. "Fuck me now! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" 

"Yes, you sweet darling," Joanne whispered. "Now. Here it comes." 

Using both hands, Joanne parted Pris' thighs even wider, shoving her knees 
back until the caps touched her breasts. Even as she pushed, she looked at 
the perfection of Pris' small breasts, and couldn't resist dipping her head 
and sucking on a nipple for an instant. This only served to make Pris 
hotter, and she squealed. She sucked the pink nipple strongly, making it 
even harder as blood flowed into it, stimulating it. Feeling Pris writhe, 
she bit into it, and the younger girl shouted her lustful enjoyment of it 
all. Her own full breasts were slamming into Pris' flat belly as she sucked 
and chewed on the spongy nipple between her lips, Her teeth clamped down all 
the harder, and Pris writhed more and more. Her hands reached out and 
tightly surrounded Joanne's head, pushing while trying to yank her nipple 
from the overpowering grip of Joanne's lips. 

Joanne had to yank hard to tug her head from between the girl's pulling 
hands. From the way the girl was squirming, she realized she could no longer 
delay ramming the huge dildo into the girl. 

"You promised to fuck me," Pris was gasping. "You promised. Fuck me! Fuck 
me, now!" 

Pris was all but screeching, her body moving as if a raging wild animal were 
trapped inside-an animal with a mind all its own. Hie heated lips and strong 
teeth working on her nipples had driven her mad with wanton desire, and now, 
with her thighs wide apart, her knees up to her chest, she prepared for the 
inevitable thrust that would eventually bring her that long-sought-for 
relief. She wanted a big, fat, hard cock rammed all the way up into her 
tight, creaming snatch. In her dazed mind she believed the woman with her 
had a penis attached to her. It never occurred to her women couldn't have 
penises. But the feminine voice of Joanne DeFranco had promised to fuck her, 
and Pris believed her. 

Holding the solid rubber dildo by its end, Joanne pressed the heavy rubber 
point into the hair-lined gash of the young girl's excitedly throbbing 
pussy. Pushing it into the soft flesh, she heard Priscilla let her breath 
out in relief as she felt the mighty dildo probe into her. Though it lacked 
the warmth of a cock, it was the thickest thing she had ever had pressed 
into her. It moved deeper and deeper, and her tight, quivering pussy 
flowered open to gobble it all up, trying to suck it as far in as possible. 
She moaned and gasped, ramming her tender pussy higher and higher on the 
rubber penis as Joanne felt it sink deeper and deeper into the young 
brunette. The older woman was surprised to see the dildo still going in. 
She, herself, had never been able to take more than three quarters of the 
length of the rubber hardness, but this sweet, innocent young thing had a 
deeper well than she. 

Still water really runs deep, she thought to herself, smiling. 

Little by little she increased the pressure of her thrust. 

"UUuuuunnnngggghhhh!" Priscilla gasped, feeling the swollen head of the 
imagined penis working into her tight pussy. She arched her thighs against 
the probing rubber prick, anxious to feel that rubbery point butt against 
her cervix. It was so swollen, so immense, it was far larger than anything 
Harold Frischeen had shoved into her. But she was so needful of it, she 
didn't care if the unyielding, artificial cock slashed her cunt in two. The 
pressure against her helplessly throbbing pussy walls increased with steady 
pressure. The swollen rubber pressed her in-sides so far out, she felt as if 
the pain would drive her mad. But then the cervix felt the rubber knob slam 
into it, and suddenly the pain was all gone, replaced by total, unutterable 
rapture. 

"Uhhh . . . ahhhh . . . ohhhh . . . yesssssss . . . " Pris gasped, feeling 
the heavy cock being rhythmically stroked in and out of her. Joanne was 
enjoying herself, seeing she was the one capable of bringing this sweet 
young thing to satisfaction. She watched as the flat belly of the brunette 
jerked and spasmed wildly up and down as the flesh seemed to ladder in and 
out. When she looked at Pris' face, she could see the brunette was in a mad 
state of ecstatic wonder. The long, black hair whipped wildly about as her 
head rolled swiftly from side to side. Some of the hair clung to her face, 
stuck there by her own perspiration. Priscilla's hands were covering her 
small, hard, swollen breasts, frantically rubbing them up and down, back and 
forth, pressing her palms into her nipples. Her heels dug into the bed as 
her thighs stretched out, the cords in them straining as she slammed her 
straining cunt higher and higher, aching to feel that internal withering 
blast that would send her to the never-never-land of orgasmic delight. 

Joanne stared, unable to believe the strength with which Joanne was 
reacting. The sight was overpoweringly stimulating, and it made her own body 
burn that much more with internal heat. At her strongest, she was never able 
to match this kind of reaction. The girl was unbelievable. 

Then she remembered the little electric switch at the end of the dildo. It 
would start a small vibrator going inside the penis-shaped monstrosity 
buried in Pris' sucking snatch. She was all set to turn it on, but held back 
for a moment, pressing her other hand between her own, slick, juicy 
cuntlips. Her drenched pussy was soaking wet, swamped with heavy lubrication 
flowing freely from it, and she rammed two fingers into the opened, 
lubricated passageway. 

Pris let out a loud sigh, bucking her body hard to continue swallowing the 
entire length of the heavy dildo inside her grasping, sucking, mired vagina. 

Now, Joanne, thought. Now was the time to turn on the vibrator. 

Flicking the switch, she turned on the vibrator, violently ramming her own 
fingers deeper and deeper into her own fuming pussy. 

"Ayyyaaaggghhh . . . almost there . . . " Pris began gasping. "Ohhh Goddddd 
. . . I cannnnnn feeeeel ittttttt.. . " she shouted, her voice rapt with 
ecstatic thrills as the hard, artificial cock buried itself repeatedly to 
the hilt in her belly, suddenly coming violently to life as it vibrated 
through her tender channel. The head was pressed all the way into her tight, 
narrow cervical opening, transmitting sensations to every nerve in her 
delicate body, and it was all she needed to make her peak. Kicking her long, 
lithe limbs wide apart, she wildly bounced on the bed as the scream came 
tearing out of her throat. 

"HERE IIIIIIITTTTTT COMMMMMMMMM-MMMMMMMESSSS . . . " she bellowed. 
"COM-MMMIIIIINNNNGGGGUUUUHHHH. . . " 

Joanne was able to see how tightly Priscilla's ass-cheeks began clenching as 
they remained arched and upraised, her squeezing cuntwalls pressing against 
the invading dildo as if trying to chew on it. Her orgiastic cuntal fluids 
poured burningly from around the edges of the madly flailing rubber cock as 
her belly twitched and jerked with tremendous upheavals of apparently 
never-ending, all-consuming delight. 

Staring at the wild way Priscilla was coming, Joanne regretted having 
initiated this course of action this quickly. God! She was starved for an 
orgasm, herself. She saw the hot, literally steaming oil come seeping out of 
the brunette's tender pussy, flowing out around the hardened dildo as her 
belly seemed to suck all the way in again and again, trembling and spasming 
with wild, inundating power. The hot, oily fluid was trickling down 

Priscilla's inner thighs, falling onto the bed, running into the arched-up 
crevice between her ass-cheeks, falling into her tightly chenched asshole. 
She gasped repeatedly, twitching and writhing in time to the clutching 
closure of her pussy each time another part of the orgasm struck. 

Joanne' tongue was all but hanging out as she stared at the dying thrills 
slowly seeping out of Pris' palpitating pussy. She turned off the vibrator, 
not wanting the girl to have too much of the wild sensation. The much could 
be just as bad as too little. 

Pris' arms and legs remained wide apart as she lay there, totally exhausted. 
And Joanne, content she had done a perfect job, slowly tugged the thick hunk 
of penis-shaped rubber from the still-clutching cunt. She watched the pink 
ridges of Pris' inner pussylips cling tightly to the dildo for a moment, 
completely reluctant to release the member. And when it finally did come 
out, it made a loud, sucking "pop." 

Still holding the lube-saturated dildo, Joanne rose from the bed and stared 
down at the exhausted, sleeping girl. Yes, she had gone too far, too 
quickly, for she had wanted to introduce Pris to the sapphic way of love, 
and all she had succeeded in doing was satisfying the girl in an 
artificially heterosexual way. She had wanted to show the brunette the 
pleasures of cunt-lapping, teaching her to do to her own pussy what she 
should have done to the pink, pink labia of Pris' tight vagina. 

Lying down on the bed beside the sleeping Priscilla, Joanne vowed she would 
do all these things with the pretty brunette, even if it meant transferring 
her trust account to wherever Priscilla wished. She drew her thighs wide 
apart until her anxious pussy was totally exposed, then touched the thick 
head of the rubber dick between her gaping labia, shoved until it was all 
the way in, then turned on the vibrating switch . . . 



 CHAPTER SEVEN 

When Priscilla showed up at Sternfeld & Hertz with the signed papers to 
bring Joanne DeFranco's account into the house, Ed Horner simply gasped. 

"You girls are amazing," he said, shaking his head. "I've never seen 
anything like the pair of you. The commissions you've earned entitle each of 
you to a hundred dollar a week raise, and even with that, it'll take six 
months to exhaust what you've already earned. You keep up like this, and our 
trust department will soon rival those of Merrill Lynch." 

"We have a lot more names to go," Priscilla assured him. 

"Just what have you been doing to get these accounts?" Horner asked. 

"You don't really want to know," Pris told him. 

"If it's what I think, I'm really sorry I don't have a trust account, so you 
could go to work on me." 

Pris looked at Steffie, who in turn looked back to Pris. Each seemed to be 
thinking the same thing, but it wasn't until Horner was gone that the two 
girls spoke about it. 

"How about it?" Steffie asked Pris. "Ed's been good to us. He didn't hassle 
us the first few days we were here. On the contrary, he made things nice and 
easy for us. I think we should give him a little of ourselves. I mean, he's 
the kind of guy who would never take advantage of us, always grateful to 
accept whatever it is we give him." 

"Are you saying we should take him on together?" Pris asked. 

"Why not?" Steffie shrugged. "I'll bet he's never had two girls at the same 
time." 

"Okay," Pris nodded. "Where?" 

"My apartment," Steffie told her, "for supper." 

"Do we descend on him en masse?" Pris asked. 

"No, I think not," Steffie replied. 'The best thing would be for you to go 
for a walk after supper while I get him all worked up. You can return while 
we're screwing our asses off, and you can join us." 

"Okay," Pris nodded. "Sounds terrific." 

"That was some terrific meal," Ed Horner said, complimenting the two girls. 

They were sitting in the eat-in kitchen in Steffie's one and a half room 
apartment. Horner's wife and children were away for the week, and so he had 
accepted the invitation of the two girls, little suspecting what they had in 
mind. After the big meal, he looked more sleepy than ever. 

The two girls stacked most of the dishes in the small dishwasher, then 
served coffee in the living room. It was nearly nine o'clock when Steffie 
put some soft music on the hi-fi, and Pris said she had to go. When Horner 
wanted to drive her home, she insisted he remain and keep Steffie company a 
little while longer. 

Steffie saw Pris to the door, letting her out, showing her the door was 
unlocked. What neither girl saw was the ominous, bulky form of Herman 
Horowitz. He had been watching both girls, hot to get into either of them, 
and seeing them take Ed Horner home with them, he had followed them. His ear 
had been pressed to the door the entire time they'd been eating, and now, as 
Pris left, he remained hidden by the stairway. He would have loved to jump 
her, but he didn't have the courage to do it by himself. Tonight he would 
simply watch and see what was going on. He'd plan his course of action 
another day. 

He saw Pris get into the elevator, and decided to follow her. Ed Horner was 
a dried up middle-aged man, anyway. What could Steffie do with someone like 
him? 

But back in the apartment, plenty was about to happen. To begin with, 
Steffie had taken the liberty of lacing Horner's coffee with vodka, and the 
more he drank, the brighter he seemed to become. When, at one point, Steffie 
took his cup and set it down on a nearby table, next to her cup, then leaned 
over and kissed him, he responded as if it were the most natural thing in 
the world. He became conscious of his rising cock, and had he been totally 
sober he might have had second thoughts about what was happening. But for 
some reason it all seemed perfectly natural to his vodka-fogged brain. So 
when she stopped kissing him and sat on the sofa beside her, he took the 
initiative, leaned over, and kissed her. Her lips were hot and burning with 
desire, welcoming the touch of his mouth as he pressed it to her oral 
orifice. He could see her bright-brown eyes staring into his, wide open with 
amazement that he responded so ardently. He could see her eyes, pleading 
with him not to stop; to continue no matter what the consequences. And 
though Herman Horowitz might have considered Ed Horner too old to become 
physically active, Steffie suddenly realized there was one helluva lot of 
mileage left in her superior. Before Horner realized it, he was kissing her 
with the verve and strength of a youthful lover. 

She seemed to struggle a bit in his arms. After all, she couldn't create the 
appearance of being an easy female. She had to make Horner believe it was 
his masculine charms that had convinced her to go through all this. But 
there was already a flaming, raging fire burning inside her, and she could 
sense it was enveloping him as well as her. 

Horner's tongue stabbed strongly into her mouth, lashing her own tongue and 
teeth with great authority, and Steffie kissed him all the harder, 
responding to his very masculine thrusts. God! The man really knew how to 
kiss and get a girl built up to the right temperature in a hurry. 

His hand was weaving through her short, strawberry-blonde hair, and suddenly 
the lacing fingers took a tight grip and pulled her head back. His cheek 
pressed itself to hers, and his tongue stabbed into the pink shell of her 
ear. 

"God," he whispered, his heated breath exciting her all the more. "Are you 
sure you know what you're doing?" 

"Positive," she replied, totally relaxing in his arms, slumping toward him 
as if she were a rag doll. 

"I've . . . uhhh . . . never been with a girl. . . uhhh . . . since my 
marriage," he whispered. "I know it.. . uhh . . . sounds corny, but I.. . 
uhhh . . . might be a little out of practice at this sort of thing." 

"That's all right," Steffie assured him. "I can get you right back in the 
groove. Let's open the sofa." 

They got up and pulled out the convertible bed, and he asked again, "Are you 
sure?" 

His voice was husky with desire, and his throbbing cock had swelled to such 
immensity, it was ready to rip through his pants. Staring at Steffie 
standing in front of him, a lamp directly behind her outlining her 
proportions through her yellow mini-dress, he was able to see how delightful 
her proportions appeared. Was the hair above her cunt as golden as the hair 
on her head? 

"I'm sure," Steffie nodded, and he walked over to her and began undressing 
her. She let him peel off her mini-dress, allowing him to discover the soft, 
wonderful body beneath. She was smooth and totally naked under the dress. 
Her pert breasts were small and full, and stood up so nicely, he hadn't 
noticed she hadn't had a bra on. Nor had he the opportunity of noting she'd 
worn no panties, before. The pink and white of her smooth, round, swelling 
breasts, and the soft, gentle sloping of her hips, added to the light curve 
of her tender belly, put together with her ripe, firm thighs and smooth 
calves all succeeded in totally conquering any imagined resistance in him. 

"Christ, Steffie," he gasped. "I thought my wife was the last terrific woman 
I'd ever meet. I never realized there might be more of you. God! You're 
fantastic." 

He hurriedly dropped his own pants, removing his shirt and underwear, 
kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks. This all seemed too good to 
be true, and he didn't want to give her the opportunity of changing her 
mind, should she so decide. 

'Tonight is just for us," she told him. "It's my special way of saying thank 
you for being so good to Pris and me." 

"You really know how to show gratitude," he whispered, gathering her 
anxious, willing body in his arms so she could feel his rigid cock rubbing 
into her wet, seething pussy. 

He swept her thighs out from under her so she couldn't stand, and lowered 
her to the bed. It smelled of her perfume-scented body. She noted his 
nostrils quivering, inhaling, enjoying the full scent of her. God! He was 
much more manly than Paul Fink. Even though he looked older, he was more 
rugged and apparently more virile. Though Fink had taught her to use her 
mouth, she hadn't actually surrendered her own virginity to any man. All the 
accounts she had brought over to Sternfeld & Hertz had been without having 
to use her womanly persuasions. Now was the right time to lose that unwanted 
virginity. She wasn't worried about her hymen. It had broken many years 
earlier when she'd been playing basketball at an all-girl's camp. So she 
knew the pain she would feel would be minimal when she finally felt his 
long, thick, throbbing hardness ram into her. Remembering the size of Paul 
Fink's cock, she was able to see Horner's prick was just the littlest bit 
longer and thicker. Good! He would fill her up that much more substantially. 
She wanted to get to know him as intimately as possible. She liked him. He 
was one of the few decent human beings she had ever known. 

Lying on the sofa-bed, with only the light of two lamps on, she watched Ed 
Horner's thick, manly body close in on hers. Her eyes remained glued to his 
bloated prick. God! The poor man's wife must have the Holland Tunnel between 
her thighs to hold that thing. Oh God! She wanted it inside her. 

Touch it! She had to touch the mighty probing prick. She felt as if her body 
would not be happy until her fingers had carefully examined every inch of 
the heavy flesh probe. God! She had never before had the urge to really 
touch a man's cock. Paul Fink had almost killed certain sensations inside 
her. She was overjoyed to be with Ed Horner tonight. He had made her feel 
more feminine than she had in a long, long time. She reached out and closed 
her long, slender fingers around the branding iron of his throbbing prick. 
Yes, that was precisely what it was; a branding iron. And she wanted to feel 
it leave its burning brand inside her body forever and ever. 

Holding tightly to it, she pulled herself up until she was sitting upright 
on the bed. Horner just stood there, watching the young girl, waiting to see 
how far she'd go without his bidding her to do anything. Her fingers were 
tightly clutching his steel-solid cock as if it were made of platinum, and 
her shining eyes stared at the heavy, swollen purple point glistening with 
the colorless ointment seeping from the slit in its otherwise perfect, 
helmet-shaped head. 

"It's . . . all right, isn't it?" he asked, feeling self-conscious at the 
way she was staring at his throbbing cock. 

"It's more than all right," she whispered. "It's so beautiful.. . so huge, 
so wonderfully immense . . . so . . . fantastic!! ! " 

Softly, slowly, carefully, almost as if she were mothering it, Steffie began 
slowly stroking Horner's throbbing horn. She softly pulled on the thick, 
hairy base, tugging down so the pulsating purple head would expand all the 
more, glistening a brilliant magenta in the soft light of the room. 

The immensity had become too much for Steffie, and she pulled it closer as 
she tugged on it, remembering what Paul Fink had taught her with his own 
cock. But this cock she wanted. She wanted to taste it, to fill her mouth 
with it, to suck its soft, tender skin surrounding his hard, rigid muscle. 
She wanted to drink the heavy white semen she knew was hiding i n his balls. 
And she wanted to taste it all before Priscilla returned. 

A masculine aroma wafted into her nostrils as she stared at the shuddering 
head less than an inch from her nervous lips. Tiny, musky drops of colorless 
fluid continued seeping from the narrow hole in his throbbing glans, lying 
like smooth, valuable pearls on his shivering tip. It was almost too much 
for her to bear. Her small, pink tongue eeled slowly from between her coral 
lips. It moved forward ever so slowly, and then with the speed of a striking 
rattlesnake, it licked the drops off his cock and retreated to the safety of 
her oral cavern. She smacked her lips together, enjoying the creamy fluidic 
balm. 

Horner, seeing her tongue retreat, pushed his hips forward, pressing his 
throbbing cock against her soft lips. He was surprised to feel her lips oval 
apart and suck on his head, compressing tightly around his corona while her 
tongue lapped at the tender point. 

Steffie, tightening her lips around the pungent tip, felt the wonderful 
taste seep through her entire body, into her pores, into her nerves, into 
her very bloodstream. And feeling the wonderful thickness press back against 
her surrounding lips, she knew damn well she was going to try to suck this 
cock to completion. She wanted to. She wanted to because she enjoyed it in 
her mouth. When Paul Fink had suggested she do this same thing not too long 
ago, she had been horrified and disgusted. But here, now, with Ed Horner it 
seemed only right and natural that she suck his throbbing cock. 

Her tongue leaped from its resting place at the bottom of her mouth and 
began circling his throbbing head. It moved in wild spirals, made the penial 
monster twitch again and again. 

"Whoooooof!" Horner sighed, and suddenly realized he had been holding his 
breath all this time. "Yes, yes, yes . . . " he urged. "More . . . don't 
stop now . . . more . . . do it, do it.. . ahhhhh . . 



Opening her mouth all the wider, coming up on her knees, giving herself 
better access to the hot, throbbing, twitching phallic wonder, she had him 
slide it into the hot, wet cave of her tantalizing, sucking mouth as she 
reached around, grabbed his hairy ass-cheeks, and pulled him closer. 

Horner thought his scalp would literally lift off in a violent explosion. He 
had never realized something so wonderful could happen to him. And this was 
only Monday night, the beginning of the week. He wondered what other 
marvelous miracles awaited him. God! To be here, in this apartment, and this 
sweet, beautiful blonde . . . sucking his throbbing cock . . . acting like a 
slave to him . . . doing things to please him . . . his cannon-shaped cock 
slowly burying its muzzle deeper and deeper into her clasping oral cavern, 
feeling the silken creaminess of her tongue as it played wildly along the 
underside of his palpitating prick. Now the writhing tongue was wrapping 
itself, snake-like, around his pulsing shaft, coiling around the steel of 
his solid muscle as her mouth opened wider, as if her teeth would scissor 
his throbbing cock from the rest of his aching body. But then the edges of 
her teeth surrounded the wide girth of his throbbing cock in a thrilling 
conglomeration of scraping pleasure and thrilling pain. 

Steffie nearly choked as she felt Horner's broad, swollen cock press its 
pulsing head against the soft, pulpy ring of her esophagus. Somehow she 
managed to choke back the feeling of being strangled, her nostrils quivering 
and widening as she pulled air into her nose and down into her lungs. Her 
gullet seemed to stretch as she relaxed it, broadening so his rubbery 
phallic tip could fit into her throat. Straining forward, she drooled all 
over the wet, pumping cock as if she had sucked this brazenly all her life. 
Then, acting even more forward, she reached between his thighs as he stood 
there and used her hand to gather in his heavy, dangling balls, manipulating 
them in their soft-skinned, wrinkled, hair-covered sac as if the eggs inside 
were made of fragile crystal. The lightning-like thrills shooting through 
Horner's aching body nearly caused him to stumble and fall on top of the 
blonde so anxious to prove how good she could be. 

Her fingers continued massaging the soft, yielding flesh of his dangling 
scrotum while her other hand had a firm grip around the base of his cock, 
jacking and tugging as if she hoped to wrench the organ from his shuddering 
body. Now her lips were sliding up and down most of its length, sucking 
strongly, pulling it into her anxious throat, then sliding it out until only 
its onion-shaped tip remained behind her teeth. Her satin interior closed 
more and more tightly around the pulsating prod, and soon Ed Horner was all 
but screamingas a long, wailing moan came sirening out of his mouth. His 
throbbing cock hurt, and his swollen testicles hurt even more. God! The 
phallic wand felt as if it had grown at least two more inches in the last 
few moments. Every last little bit of it was a sensuous, throbbing mass of 
tangled nerves, and every nerve seemed to demand instant satisfaction. 

"Steffie.. . " he gasped. "Ohhhhh Steffie . . . suck . . . suck . . . suck 
the old cock good and hardd. . . " 

As if answering his lascivious reply, Steffie painted the bottom of his 
throbbing cock with her wicked tongue, tasting his rich, pungent 
masculinity, using the point of her tongue to probe through the graying 
hairs at the base, and coating the heavy bloated sacs of his wrinkled balls 
with more and more saliva. 

Where she had almost upchucked with Paul Fink, the sensation of being with 
Ed Horner only honed her sense of taste, and she wanted more and more of 
him. She wanted to swallow whatever he had to offer, loving the thick 
feeling of it as it danced on her tongue, against her palate, and into her 
throat. Sucking on this wonderful penis was more marvelous than anything she 
had ever before imagined. She continued manipulating him, squeezing his 
balls, ringing the base of his heavy cock with her fingers and rubbing it, 
squeezing and jerking and pinching and lapping the mighty cane of flesh 
slammed as far as she could take it into her mouth and throat. Her hand 
around his throbbing cock was such a marvelous caress, he knew she would 
soon be milking him of all his aching sperm. Her other hand continued 
rubbing his sperm-swollen balls, and this made his writhing hips gyrate at a 
fantastic pace. He pumped his solid cock ever deeper into her anxious 
throat. 

Horner felt his lustful whang swell even more inside the blonde girl's hot, 
lustful oral cavern. He could feel his hard, rubber-like glans rubbing 
against the narrow entrance to her pharynx, and he watched as she anxiously 
seemed to swallow his flesh, gulping it into her throat. Horner gasped and 
sighed in cadence to the way she rhythmically sucked his hard cock. He 
watched her beautiful face laboring against his loins, hot and sweaty, red 
with exertion. But he soon even became oblivious to that, feeling only the 
blinding flurries of fire-laden passion building higher and higher in his 
throbbing balls. He groaned again and again as his pelvis bucked maddeningly 
against her obscenely stretched mouth working to bring him to the completion 
she felt he so richly deserved. 

"Ohhhhh Goddddd . . . " Horner gasped. "Oh God-dddd! I can feel, it building 
inside me. Oh Christ! I can feel it. But it won't come out. for the love of 
God it won't come out." 

He began to scream and rant and rave, almost as if it were the girl's fault, 
and he slammed his throbbing, thick, heavy meat even deeper, ramming it 
through the ring of her sucking gullet, into the depths of her tight throat. 

I lis hands, gripping her hair, were now ramming her mouth back and forth 
over the throbbing cock. But as tight as her lips gripped it, Steffie found 
his hard prick unable to yield up the contents of his aching balls. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Priscilla had taken a long, long walk along the nearby bay. It had been a 
clear night, and she had walked slowly, seeing couples sitting on benches 
under the nearby trees, clutching one another, kissing. Once, she would have 
envied them. But not now. Not at all. No, she didn't need a boy friend to 
kiss her and touch her and get her all heated up, then not do anything more 
for fear of corrupting her. No, when she finally married her man, whoever he 
might be, he would have fucked her innumerable times, and the last time 
would be better than each time before. 

She didn't notice the white-haired hulk of Herman Horowitz stalking behind 
her. Not that there was anything Herman could have done, even if he'd had 
enough courage. There were too many people and too many police booths 
stationed along the bay. But he was curious why she wasn't going home. God! 
How he would love getting his hands on that trim body of hers. 

When she had come over from Jacobson & Co., he had called his buddy, Paul 
Fink, to find out what Paul knew about her. Fink had referred to her as an 
ungrateful tramp who had walked out on him after he had taught her all he'd 
known about handling trust accounts. What she needed, according to Fink, was 
a good gangbanging to straighten her out. 

Now, as he watched Priscilla turn around and head back the way she had come, 
Horowitz decided Paul Fink definitely had a good idea. Only it would be a 
two-man gangbang. Fink and himself. 

Standing in the shade of a nearby tree, he watched as she strolled right by 
him, not even noticing him. What was she thinking? 

Priscilla smiled to herself. This was the time to go back. This was the time 
to walk into Steffie's apartment and see if Steffie had succeeded with Ed 
Horner. If she didn't, Pris could always claim to have forgotten her purse. 
She had purposely left it behind. But even if Steffie had succeeded, Pris 
would have to be careful how she became involved with them. She didn't want 
Horner feeling shy or embarrassed. 

Reaching the building, she rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, unaware 
Herman Horowitz was already heading for the stairs. Confused, Herman had to 
know what was going on. 

Reaching Steffie's apartment, Pris opened the door and quietly walked into 
the dark, small foyer. Shutting the door quietly, she began removing her 
clothes. All she had on was a lacy bra and skimpy panties as she listened to 
what was happening in the main room, around the corner. 

There were loud slurping sounds, and it was Steffie's voice she heard 
gasping and groaning. Odd! It sounded as if Horner was doing a job on 
Steffie rather than Steffie doing it to Horner. Peering around the corner, 
she saw Steffie straddling Horner's face as he lay on the open bed. She was 
smearing her pussy hair across his face as if it were a paintbrush, a golden 
paintbrush covered with the colorless paint of her vaginal ooze. It was 
brushing across Horner's face again and again, and his lapping tongue 
stabbed into the seething depths of her burning vagina, trying to dredge out 
more of the viscous ointment so he could swallow it more readily. His face 
was smeared with the thick juice, making his nose, cheeks, and chin shine 
whenever the pink lips of Steffie's dripping cunt slid out of the way for a 
brief second. 

"No," Horner was saying to Steffie. "This isn't good, either." 

"But it is, it is," Steffie was trying to assure him, feeling fiery flames 
course through her bloodstream. This was the first time any man had ever 
sucked her cunt, and she was enjoying it. 

"I want to fuck you," Horner was saying. "I want you to sit on my cock and 
ride your body all the way down on it. Okay?" 

"Anything," Steffie agreed, sliding her body lower, then raising her virgin 
crotch until her coral gash with the golden beard hovered directly over the 
thick, upstanding prick. 

"Now!" Horner insisted. "Now! Do it quickly." 

Steffie reached down, gripped the throbbing pike, then held it firmly in her 
fist as she guided her teeming twat onto it. This would be the first time 
anything had penetrated her seething, aching vagina. She would let Horner 
know he had been the first, later. Now, all she could feel was the thick, 
bulbous minaret of his cock-dome, pressing the walls of her tight cunny 
farther and farther apart. At first she began sitting slowly, feeling the 
seething glans work its thick way into her steaming pussy. First her outer 
labia parted, then her scalloped inner lips opened up. They seemed to open 
grudgingly, and Steffie gasped as she felt the wedging head force her tight 
entryway wider and wider, slowly but surely slipping up into her squeezing 
grotto. 

"Uunngghh!" she gasped. "Ohhhh Goddd! It's so thick. I'll never be able to 
take all of it. Never!" 

"You will, you will," Horner urged. "Keep sliding down. Don't stop, not for 
anything." 

Steffie felt sweat break out all over her in huge drops, and the drops began 
running down her face, throat and body. God! She'd had no idea it could 
still hurt even if she was without a hymen. Oh God! 

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself a bit lower, feeling the thick dork 
press past her inner labia, sinking into the seething, squirming depths of 
her tight tunnel. Floods of heavy oil came rushing down to bathe the 
pressing penis, lubricating her inner walls, making it easier for the 
massive monster to slide ever deeper into her. Her knees dug into the bed 
until the covers felt as if they were burning her kneecaps. 

"Godd!" she gasped. "I can't do it. I can't do it!" 

Horner grasped her shoulders and pressed down on them, pushing hard, hard, 
hard, and she felt her tight inner cathedral of cunt slowly open and 
surrender to the inprobing, knife-like cock. Down, down, down, her 
trembling, slender, lush body moved very slowly, shivering, quivering and 
quaking all the way. 

To Horner, the very tightness of her wet, sucking morass was a miracle in 
itself. He'd never thought to feel anything this exquisite again. Not that 
his wife wasn't wonderful. But her channel had adapted to his width and 
didn't cling to it quite as powerfully. He could hear the squeaky tightness 
of her slurping vagina as her body slid lower and lower and lower. 

And then, all of a sudden, she felt the gold matting on her pelvis mingle 
with the gray curls on his pubis. She was all the way down. His cockhead was 
pressing into her cervix. The thickness filled her interior to what felt 
like overflowing, making her narrow, tight walls stretch and bulge to 
accommodate its great breadth. Steffie simply sat there for the moment, 
feeling impaled up to her eyeballs. God! It skewered through her heart, her 
lungs, her vital organs. She was trembling, and Ed Horner was running his 
hands over the sensitive tips of her breasts, whispering soft words of 
comfort to her, reassuring her everything was all right. 

Little by little the feeling of fullness turned into one of clogged 
contentment. Tingles touched every little space along her inner vaginal 
grooves, and she shuddered with exciting inner electricity. Soon she found 
it impossible to simply sit there. She had to move, to create friction 
within her, to enhance the already burning fires, building them to great 
pyres, enlarging them so they would eventually bring her to the kind of 
satisfaction she had seen Paul Fink enjoy the day he had shot his sticky 
sperm down her throat. He had gone into maddening convulsions at the time, 
and Steffie had envied him, being able to feel anything so intensely. Now, 
with this thick prick stuck all the way up into her teeming pussy, she 
wanted to feel the same kind of intense sensations. 

Slowly, very slowly, she began to rise, feeling the knobby head of his 
swollen dork slide from her cervix back into her sopping vaginal orifice, 
and then move slowly back until she felt the rim of the corona catch behind 
her shell-shaped pussylips. Then, just as slowly, she reversed herself, and 
little by little sat back down, feeling the massive truncheon of muscle 
re-enter her feminine chamber, flooding her drenched inner cunt with its 
thick meat. When her ass-cheeks touched his groin, she immediately reversed 
direction. Up, then down, up, then down, again and again and again and 
again. Now she was aware of only one thing; the hard, ramming, wonderful 
cock fitting into her seething depths. 

Priscilla stood there, awed, watching the wild way Steffie rode on top of 
Horner's throbbing cock, fucking him with a maddening, intensifying fury, 
riding faster with each pumping motion. The blonde was riding up and down, 
moving faster and faster, slapping her ass-cheeks against his thighs with 
louder and louder noises. Horner was right there with her, matching her hump 
for hump, allowing his tremendously broad shaft to lunge farther and farther 
up into the young blonde's sucking pussy, the lust-hardened staff 
continually stretching the girl's soft, pliable vaginal folds, ramming into 
her soft, hair-lined twat with a fervor born of the knowledge this was the 
first time he had cheated on his wife since getting married. His anxious 
eyes never left the blonde girl's licentiously twisted face. He was 
fascinated by the way her short, fluffy strawberry-blonde hair tossed wildly 
about her head in all directions at once. The hair flounced up and down with 
each frenzied, twisting gyration she performed. She continued slapping the 
tender, beaten surface of her round rectal cheeks against the hairy thighs 
beneath as he arched his own fulcrum up to meet hers, thrilling to her 
passion-fomented attack. The room was echoing and reechoing with the sounds 
of their insane lovemaking, and Horner found he was reaching the innermost 
center of the girl's suctioning cunt, plowing deeper and deeper, widening 
her cervix as if expecting to fit the full length of his throbbing penis in 
there, next. The suction inside was unbelievable, drawing him higher and 
higher, deeper and deeper. 

Horner was almost insane with lustful pleasure, feeling the satin-smooth 
scabbard of her grasping vagina swallowing his bloated instrument again and 
again as he spiked it far up into her coral tenderness with all the strength 
in his body. His hands, which had been cupped over her firm breasts, now 
reached down to grab her waist, thrilling to the narrowness of it. His 
wife's waist hadn't been this narrow in more than ten years. Almost out of 
his spinning mind with passionate rapture, thrilling at the idea of fucking 
into someone only months older than his oldest daughter, and feeling her 
respond so anxiously and lovingly, he hoped it would all never end. Respond? 
She was doing more than merely responding. She was taking the initiative. 
She was wonderful. His teeth were tightly clenched as he allowed the wonder 
of all that was happening sift through his nervous system. His balls were 
still tightly pressed into his groin, and his stiff, aching cock was dying 
to release the heavy fluid contained in his testicles. He hadn't been able 
to come in her mouth, for some unknown psychological he would never learn, 
and so far, even though he'd felt like coming at least a half dozen times 
inside her tight pussy, he hadn't been able to do that, either. God! It 
wasn't as if he were impotent, or anything like that. If that were the case, 
he'd never have been able to raise a hard-on in the first place. He felt no 
guilt about cheating on his wife. He'd been aching to do that for years; not 
because he didn't love her, but because he knew he was getting older and one 
day the urge inside him would stop, and before it did, he felt as if he was 
entitled to at least one fling with someone beautiful and young. Thank God 
Steffie had come along. nnnnnhhh . . . " she gasped. "Oh God . . . God.. . 
God . . . s-o-o-o-o goooood . . . fuckiiinnnggg.. . s-o-o-o-o-o gooooood . . 
. fuck me . . . fuck me . . . fuck me . . . fuck me . . . keep on fuckingggg 
. . . " 

Horner clutched her waist more tightly when she slammed down, and with his 
thick roll of meat buried to the hilt in her steaming vagina, he did a 
hundred and eighty degree roll to his right. Suddenly, with his throbbing 
cock still fully buried in the blonde girl, he found he was the one on top, 
and she was on the bottom. Two squashed pillows were under her, and he 
plowed hard into her, squashing them even more. Her long, slender, shapely 
legs wound around his body, and he noticed that even with rolling over, and 
with his taking over the stroking duties, they hadn't missed a single 
plunge. Her hungering, burning cunt welcomed his thrusting cock in even more 
now. He pounded violently into her, for he was the lord of the situation, 
feeling her warm, furry vaginal lips suck him ever deeper, his strongly 
pistoning penis slamming into her widely gaping cunt and nailing her tender 
ass to the mattress at the same time, banging into her with such force, the 
mattress began to squeak its protest. 

"Good God!" Priscilla gasped out loud, walking into the room, completely 
envious of what was happening. 

Although what she said was heard by both Horner and Steffie, each was so 
lost in the attempt at reaching satisfaction, neither cared, turbulently 
pounding into one another, trying to peak. Horner was dying to come. The 
pain in his balls was becoming overpoweringly intense. If he didn't shoot 
soon, his balls would simply burst. 

Steffie's naked, upturned cunt starvingly lusted to taste the seething sperm 
Horner's balls refused to surrender. But she felt the wild sensations 
building in her own body, and she suddenly realized she was about to 
experience her first really good orgasm. She was going to come, come, come . 
. . 



"AYYYYAAAAGGGGHHHH!" she bellowed, and the climax was a mind-shattering 
delight of wondering sensations, spilling through the nerve-endings of her 
tender young body. The thrusting spoke of cock seemed to lift her higher and 
higher with each pummeling thrust until all she could see was a series of ne 
verending, spinning colored lights. 

Pris was coming closer to them, almost angry that Steffie had gone this far 
without waiting for her. Clad only in her frilly bra and panties, she flung 
herself at the pair of them, one arm draping itself over Horner's broad 
back, and the other arm sliding under Steffie's shoulders in an attempt to 
become one with them. 

Horner, who had been all but lying on Steffie, sat up, his cock still 
plugged into her writhing body. Heavy sweat covered his face, and he was 
gasping, even if he had not been satisfied. He stared at Pris, not able to 
understand what she was doing there. Even more confusing was her being there 
in bra and panties. But at this point he didn't much care. His rocks needed 
relief. 

Horner reached out, grabbing her, his arm moving with the speed of a coiled 
python. His fingers were gripping her bare arm, tugging her flesh so hard 
she cried out as he brought her down on the bed. 

"What!! ! " Steffie gasped, still in the throes of her orgasm as Pris' body 
fell across hers. 

"I don't know what you're doing back here," Horner gasped, "or why you're 
almost as naked as we are, but since you've come back and you've seen what 
we're doing, you might just as well become part of it." 

"Yes," Pris gasped, lying across Steffie's body, looking up at him, "make me 
part of it." 

The brunette was visibly shaken as he leaned down and kissed her ripe mouth 
while his hands slid beneath her and continued to rub Steffie's round tits. 
His throbbing cock continued thrusting in and out of her squeezing pussy. 
His motion made Steffie, even with Pris' weight, buck again and again, and 
Pris was surprised to see Steffie was still aroused. After an orgasm of the 
magnitude she had recently attained, she should normally be tired and 
wanting to relax. The squirming movements of the blonde beneath her made 
Pris realize she was jealous of Steffie. Letting her kiss with Horner 
finish, Pris slid off the blonde girl and watched as Horner began kissing 
her. It was a tender, albeit almost pervertedly obscene exchange between 
middle-aged man and nineteen-year-old girl. True, the idea to seduce Horner 
had been Steffie's, but why had she bothered having Pris over if she'd 
wanted Horner for herself? This whole thing had degenerated into something 
crazy. What the hell was going to happen now? 

Pris lay there silently, unmoving, wondering if they'd completely forget 
about her if she didn't thrash about. If they did, she would slip away, get 
dressed, and leave as quietly as possible. She had no reason to condemn 
Steffie and Ed Horner. What was happening between them was really a normal, 
natural health thing. She had no right to be envious. From what Steffie had 
told her earlier, this was her first fucking experience, whereas she, Pris, 
had been fucked, had sucked, and had even had what amounted to a Lesbianic 
experience. Maybe it would be better if she left the two of them alone. 

But Ed Horner hadn't forgotten Pris, not by a long shot. He had been kissing 
Steffie with heavy pressure, still keeping his thrusting cock buried to the 
hilt in her clutching vagina. But now he removed his mouth from Steffie's 
and pulled Pris back to him, kissing her with as much energy. Pris wanted to 
protest, but she felt a funny kind of static passing between her mouth and 
that of Ed Horner. She didn't know why, but she felt fantastically aroused . 
. . even more so than she had when she'd first walked in. Her entire body 
began responding as she kissed back with a wicked violence and his mouth 
stabbed relentlessly at hers. She felt his hands roaming over her body, 
pressing her small, firm breasts under her bra, and her body writhed even 
more, enjoying the touch of him. He might have been in his fifties, but he 
made love like a boy in his teens. The gentle, swirling of his tongue in her 
mouth got her more and more aroused, and her lips opened wider and wider so 
she could suck in more of the oral digit. 

Steffie, still wriggling on the bed in the throes of her own orgasm, 
suddenly felt a great emptiness, and realized Horner had tugged his mighty 
spear from inside her yearning feminine cavern. Turning, she saw him 
pressing his body against Pris, and realized he was hoping he might be able 
to come off inside the brunette. 

Pris could feel him pressing against her, squeezing out all desire on her 
part to leave the two alone. His arm hurt where he was still gripping her, 
and her lips were raw from the way he was kissing her. He crushed young 
breasts were pressured almost to the point of pain. She was positive he 
would start breaking her bones at any moment. Beside her, on the bed, she 
could hear the heavy gasping breath of her blonde friend, and when she 
peered from the corner of her eye, she could see one of Horner's hands was 
mashed against Steffie's tender breasts. 

Then she felt the marble-hard pulsating of his enormous prick, pushing 
against her, trying to rub between her thighs. She could feel the moisture 
from its elastic point seeping through the thin material of her panties. Her 
blood boiled all the more as her brain began to dizzyingly spin. 

He '.s going to fuck me, she thought, becoming more and more excited. He 
still has his erection and he's going to fuck me right here, lying next to 
Steffie. Oh God!! ! Yes, yes, yes, I want his cock inside me. I can take it, 
and I can enjoy it! 

Everything seemed so wonderfully confusing. She knew it was about to happen, 
and the fact that his cock had been buried in Steffie mere seconds before 
made her want it all the more. 

Suddenly, she felt his fingers curl into the tight elastic of her panty 
waistband, and he was pulling, tugging, tearing, wrenching the flimsy cloth 
from her white, tender body. All that was visible was the curling black 
mound as she clamped her thighs together, but he forced her loins apart and 
began rubbing the bulbous point of his shuddering cock against the 
ebony-black curls. Her pink, heated cuntlips parted and more seeping fluid 
came out, moistening the way for his throbbing prick as it rubbed up and 
down between her peach-like labial slices, massaging her tender clitoris. 

And at the front door, Herman Horowitz, who had silently entered the 
apartment, peered around the corner and saw what was going on. His throbbing 
cock was unable to take the pressure, and suddenly he started shooting in 
his pants. Hot gushes of white goo splattered all over the inside of his 
underwear, staining his pants, running down his thighs. 

God! He had to get out of there. But from what he'd seen, both girls were 
ripe for a lot of fucking. With Paul Fink, he would be able to ball the pair 
of them again and again. And he was certain Fink would be more than happy to 
get even by pronging the pair of them for leaving Jacobson & Co. 

With his hands clutching his sopping groin, Horowitz turned and silently 
stole out of the apartment. Now that he knew where Steffie lived, he and 
Paul Fink would return one day soon, when both girls were there, and they'd 
fuck the ass off the two of them. 

"Unnnngggghhhh!" Priscilla gasped, no longer thinking about anything other 
than getting a good, solid fuck. 

Wild pleasure was rippling through her sensitive, youthful body, held 
helplessly captive by the rubbing of his prick against her throbbing 
clitoris. It was all so obscenely wonderful, so delightfully perverse. The 
hard, by now familiar, pressure of a cock-head against her oversized 
clitoris reminded her she had come here to be fucked by this man, and she 
wanted him. She wanted him all the more, knowing his hard cock had been 
soaking in the morass of another woman's vagina. Her nipples ached to be 
rubbed by his palms as she longed to be free of the restraining bra. His 
tongue swathing through her tender mouth was driving her wildly insane, and 
she didn't care whether or not Steffie was watching. She sensed that a month 
earlier she would have cared one helluva lot. But she had grown up 
considerably in this past month. Right now, all that really mattered was the 
almost masochistic urge to be manhandled in front of Steffie. She could feel 
the hotly pulsing penis throbbing against the tender pink folds of her outer 
pussylips. Her sensitive feminine flesh rippled a bit under the pressure of 
his continually advancing prick, and little by little the tiny orifice began 
to widen and accept the blood-swollen glans moving between the silken 
softness. 

"Ayyaanngghh!" she gasped, turning her head to the side as Horner's sure 
hand guided his burning, pulsating prong in among her dark, curly hairs, 
pushing downward and into the hole between her softly spreading vaginal 
labia. He was breathing somewhat unevenly, himself, and Pris feared he might 
be about to suffer a coronary, but all the time he kept on thrusting, 
pushing the long, thick, heavy, weighty cock into her steaming depths. 
Deeper, deeper, deeper, the sliding cock moved, and Horner suddenly realized 
he was almost all the way into her. 

Balanced above the lovely brunette, Ed Horner suddenly understood what he 
was doing. Two women. Two lush, lovely females, neither quite out of her 
teens, had both wrapped their cunts around his throbbing penis. And he was 
actually fucking them both. Right now his swollen dork was ramming itself 
into the tender depths of Priscilla's squeezing cunt, which, though it had 
been used before, still felt tighter than Steffie's formerly virginal 
interior. The soft, midnight fleece of her curling hairs on her vagina 
seemed to part all the more as her pink interior reluctantly opened to let 
him in. Little by little the tight, grasping cunt was eating up his entire 
cock. Yes, the entire thick length of his powerful, steaming cock was moving 
into her. He was sunk to the balls in the boiling volcano of her simmering 
snatch. 

Beside him, Steffie, a beautiful, stunning blonde, lay writhing from the 
powerful climax he had induced. Yes, these were girls in their late teens, 
but they were grown women. And Steffie was already trying to push fingers 
into her steaming slot, aching for more satisfaction. Well then, since they 
had been so good to him, it was up to Horner to make sure all the girls got 
what they wanted. Even as he stuffed the last little bit of his cock-sausage 
into the slimy cauldron of Priscilla's frothing snatch, he reached over and 
buried the middle finger of his right hand all the way into Steffie's 
sucking swamp. His finger thrust in and out, moving wildly into the pink 
furrow surrounded by golden tendrils, feeling the wet hairs tickling the 
palm of his hand as he tantalized the inner pinkness and sucking interior 
crevices of her bare, nakedly offered vagina. 

Horner felt overly proud of himself, realizing he had managed to bring about 
such a degree of lascivity in these two exciting females, both were willing 
to share him in order to be made love to by him. He plunged his huge, 
swollen dork in and out of Pris' tight, vaginal interior, feeling how her 
cuntal walls sucked loudly on his throbbing, thrusting cock. Her smooth, 
wide, straining thighs were widening, opening all the more, sucking more 
voraciously at his broad phallus, getting wetter and more slippery with each 
passing moment, while his middle finger sank into the now-passively moaning 
body of the rapturously lovely blonde. 

"Annhh . . . annhh . . . annhh . . . " Steffie gasped beside him as his 
finger continued wildly fucking into the heated depths of her burning nest, 
creating loud, slurping noises each time his finger pushed either in or out. 
At the same time, he matched the thrust of his finger by stabbing his thick 
cock into the seething depths of the soft, spongy, clutching cunt of the 
beautifully dark-haired Priscilla. The thrusting increased the erotic 
torment in Pris, and she wanted more, humping her eager, youthful body up to 
receive what he had for her. Each time he sank his massive salami all the 
way into her she rotated her loins licentiously up to his hard thrusts, 
fucking back with a wild, savage passion. 

"Oh God!" Horner gasped. "I never dreamed I would be enjoying myself like 
this. This whole dream is out of this world!" 

The two females were completely oblivious to his outcries. They lay on the 
sofa-bed, feverishly writhing, each in a different world of mindless 
thrills. 

With Priscilla next to her on the bed, Steffie suddenly felt safer and more 
relaxed. Even so, her dripping snatch continued wildly responding to the 
thrusts of Horner's middle finger as it moved in and out of her with rapid 
thrusts. When he added his forefinger to the middle finger, she humped her 
body higher and higher, receiving his probing thrusts and rotating wildly on 
the two fingers. Her desire-filled pussy worked madly against the plunging 
fingers, and then became even more aroused when he added a third finger. It 
was unbelievably wonderful for her to feel the pressure of such excruciating 
delight. It was so good it almost hurt. The unrelenting thrust of his 
powerful fingers in her sucking swamp of pussy made her hot all over again, 
totally wiping out the feelings of the previous orgasm. All she knew now 
was, she wanted more and more and more. 

Hearing Pris sigh on the bed beside her, she felt a stronger bond than ever 
with the young brunette, and her hand reached out to where Pris' hand clung 
to Horner's back. She grasped the hand, holding it tightly in her own, 
feeling the way her blistering cunt, like a car radiator, was overheating. 
She was going to come again because of the mad, insane actions of her 
superior's fingers. Horner's hand moved in and out with greater rapidity 
now, the sucking juices of her clinging vagina making the friction that much 
less. The fingers moved faster and faster and faster, building a tiny tickle 
deep in her shuddering cunt, and making the tickle enlarge with unbelievable 
rapidity until everything in her body seemed to wildly erupt, like lava from 
a volcano. The lava within her came spewing out so wildly, she thought it 
would back up into her throat and keep her from shouting. The thrilling 
sensations were there, immediate and real, burning inside her naked bosom as 
it sharply heaved up and down while her arching back came rising off the 
bed. Her hand squeezed that of Pris all the more tightly as the dark-haired 
woman responded by squeezing back and keening her own body up and down in 
response to the heavy cock being thrust in and out of her. 

"AYYYAAAGGGHHHAAAGGGHHH!" Steffie screamed, reaching her second peak of the 
night, almost strangling on her own climactic outcry as the wracking climax 
tore through her body and the wet, frigging fingers in her pussy moved more 
insanely, enhancing everything for her. The fingers seemed to bite into the 
hot, tight orifice of her blonde pussy. 

Pris' fingers tightened around those of Steffie, and Ed Horner's thrusting 
cock seemed to swell even more, becoming impossibly thick inside the young 
brunette's seething nookie. The delightful softness of her nudely wriggling 
torso under Horner's plunging body, added to the obvious peak in Steffie's 
sucking pussy made him swell with lust, and he thought his entire 
licentiously driven self, and not just his painful balls, would explode if 
he somehow or other didn't come soon. He worked his hard, thrusting cock all 
the way into her steaming pussy, feeling how she was straining to stretch 
her thighs that much more widely, making her helplessly skewered cunt a 
place designated solely for the burial of his cock, and nothing else. His 
hands manipulated wildly, one of them now withdrawn from Steffie's seething 
cunt, all sodden and soaked with her juices. He got Pris' nipple all wet 
with Steffie's lubricant, and still continued rubbing the girl's thick, pink 
nipples, making them swell and almost glow a kind of red. He leaned over and 
sucked the left nipple, tasting Steffie's secretions against the thickness 
of her tender flesh, wanting to bite into the succulent pink fruit they 
seemed to resemble. 

Christ! he thought. This had to be the ultimate. Two females, one blonde, 
one brunette. Both were clamoring for more and more of him, and now, even 
though his balls hurt like hell, he was overjoyed at not having come. 

Priscilla's heels were kicking wildly against his ass-cheeks as she flexed 
her long legs back against her sensually delighted self, thereby enabling 
her to offer more of her thrusting, pliant cunt to his madly plunging poker. 
She was going to come. God! This was the fastest orgasm she'd ever had with 
a real cock. Ohhhhh, Godddd! She could feel her body heaving up and down and 
moving around violently as the pile-driving prick rammed into her again and 
again, while his mouth continued to suck and slurp her nipples, chewing on 
the over-sensitive flesh. 

"EEEYYYAAAIIIAAAGGGHHHHH!" she squealed, gasping and humping wildly in the 
throes of maddening torment. Her body wildly bounced up and down, up and 
down, up and down. 

"Me!" Steffie yelled. "Now it's my turn. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" 

Ripping his solid member from Pris' straining pussy, he sank it back into 
Steffie and proceeded to pump and pump and pump until the muscles in his 
thighs began weakening. Then the girls flipped him over on his back, and 
while Steffie once again mounted his throbbing cock, Pris sat on his face as 
she had seen Steffie do earlier, giving Horner a chance to taste her 
succulence and compare it to that of the blonde he was now fucking, or who 
was fucking him. 

Horner felt the black-haired pinkness descend on his face, and his mouth 
automatically opened so he could drink the nectar dripping from her seething 
snatch. His tongue licked into the steaming depths of her sodden honey-pot 
and a lake of fluid came pouring out all over his face, drenching him. He 
wondered if he would drown. If so, he could think of no more pleasant way to 
die. 

One thought continued recurring to him. This was only Monday. What did the 
other days hold in store for him? This was all so unbelievable. If he told 
it to anyone, they'd laugh it off as a fantasy on his part. Poor fools. If 
only they knew. 

Now he could feel the semen in his balls starting to spin and churn. This 
time there was no two ways about it. He was going to come. His body 
straightened out and stiffened, and his tongue lanced all the way up into 
Pris' foaming pussy. She was sitting on his face facing Steffie, and 
watching the way his body hardened, she told Steffie, "He's going to shoot." 

At the last second, Steffie jumped up then came down, enveloping his full 
length of throbbing cock with her mouth. 

"YYYEEEAAARRRGGGHHHHH!" Horner screamed as he fired the first heavy load, 
blasting it into the girl's sucking throat. He fired again and again, 
filling Steffie's mouth to overflowing with his cream. And then he blacked 
out. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

The following morning, Tuesday, Ed Horner, with circles under his eyes, was 
back at his job as head of the trust department at Sternfeld & Hertz. 
Although the two girls behaved no differently toward him when others were 
around, when they were alone with him, they smiled broad, suggestive smiles. 
And Horner could only grin back. 

That previous night had been the most fantastic night he'd ever experienced. 
No wonder these girls were cleaning up when it came to bringing in new 
accounts. There wasn't a man in the world able to resist the two of them. 
They were astounding. He had no doubt, if one failed to appeal to a man, the 
other would take over. And if neither, alone, appealed to a man, they would 
be able to work on him together. And any man able to resist the pair of them 
had to be feebleminded or impotent. 

Within the next month, the two girls continued to pull accounts away from 
the trust department of Jacobson & Co., enlarging their own accounts to 
where they were each drawing five hundred dollars a week, with a three-year 
backlog . . . provided no more changes were made in the present accounts and 
no new accounts were added. But Ed Horner knew better. They would go on 
adding accounts, and making necessary changes in the trust accounts they had 
charge of, making themselves so valuable to the firm that they would one day 
be offered small partnerships in the firm. 

It was on a Friday, at three in the afternoon, when Paul Fink walked into 
the offices of Sternfeld & Hertz. He walked over to the desk of Herman 
Horowitz and sat in the visitor's chair, saying, "I've been fired as head of 
the trust department at Jacobson. Those two broads who I trained, and who 
are working here, have been pulling away all my business." 

"What are you going to do?" Horowitz asked. "You and I are going to convince 
the two of them to quit the business," Fink told him. "I have a chance to 
become head of the trust department at Burpenheimer & Co. But to do that, I 
have to bring in some nice trust accounts. I can take about a half dozen 
from Jacobson & Co. I was lucky with these accounts and got them into some 
pretty good stuff. They'll do whatever I say. But there are a good two dozen 
accounts those two twats took away from me, and I want them back. And the 
only way to get them back is to have those cunts advise their clients to 
come back to me." 

"And what makes you think the girls are going to do it?" Horowitz asked. 

"I don't think-I know," Fink told him. "You and I are going to convince 
them." 

"Hey, look," Horowitz nodded. "I'm all for fucking the shit out of them, but 
why the hell should I do anything for you?" 

"Because," Fink told him, "you are going to be my assistant at Burpenheimer 
& Co. Think of all those overrides you'll be making." 

"Sounds like a good idea," Horowitz abruptly agreed. "So what have you got 
in mind?" 

"How about a little old fashioned gang-fucking. You and me together, working 
on those cunts, one at a time. Between the pair of us we ought to wear them 
down." 

"Sounds good," Horowitz agreed. "When do we starts?" 

"We should have started more than a month ago," Fink told him. "Since we 
can't go back in time, I suggest we begin immediately, like tonight." 

"Are we going to kidnap them, or what?" Horowitz asked. 

"Don't be silly," Fink snapped at him. "Kidnapping's against the law. We're 
going to take these cunts, one at a time, on a weekend-long date." 

"How are we going to work it?" Horowitz asked. 

"Well, suppose we start with Steffie. We take her to an abandoned motel I 
know about. It's scheduled to be torn down sometime next year. We can do 
whatever the hell we want to do to her there, and there isn't a person 
who'll hear us. Once we get Steffie to agree to whatever we want, we pick up 
Priscilla and do the same thing." 

"What about after we're finished with them?" Horowitz asked. 

"Who said we're ever going to be finished with them?" Fink laughed. "Those 
cunts have lots of good fucking in them. And by the time we turn them loose, 
they'll have been gone from their jobs so long, the company'll fire them, 
which is, after all, just what we want." 

"Fine," Horowitz nodded. "But since I know where Steffie lives, I think it'd 
be easier for us to pick up Priscilla, first. She just moved into her own 
apartment, and no one here knows where it is. I suggest we grab her, then go 
after Steffie, later." 

"Good idea," Paul Fink agreed. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

It won't be long before winter starts, Pris thought, walking along with a 
light red coat over her blue mini-dress. I'm glad I'm living by myself. If 
my folks ever found out how I managed to get all those accounts into 
Sternfeld & Hertz, they'd disown me. 

She had a date that evening with Harold Frischeen. Even though the man was 
old enough to be her father, Pris liked him a lot. And he had a lot more 
juice in him than many other, younger men she'd seduced. She'd been seeing 
him on Friday nights a lot. She liked being with him. Since she was in no 
mood to marry at this time, and he would never be in the mood for another 
marriage, the two of them were getting along quite well. 

It was four-thirty when she left the office. She could have bought a car, 
but there was nowhere for her to park it in the financial district, and so 
she'd decided to continue using public transportation. Not only was it 
cheaper, but it was faster. She didn't notice the cream Mustang driving 
along nearby, and even if she did, she wouldn't have paid much attention to 
it. Cars never moved fast in that area. 

There was a street she used to cut across to the next block where the bus 
stop was located. Using the street would save her nearly two blocks of 
walking, even though it was more like an alleyway than anything else. 

Horowitz, behind the wheel of the old Mustang, said to Fink, "This has to be 
it. Almost no one drives down that block, and hardly anyone ever uses it as 
a shortcut." 

"Okay," Fink nodded. "You drive a little ahead of her and stop the car. As 
she walks past, we'll jump out and grab her." 

Priscilla, still totally unaware of the two men, ignored the car as it 
sidled by her on the deserted street. Her shoes echoed on the pavement as 
she walked, not noticing the car, or that it had stopped. Then, as she 
passed the car, the two doors opened. 

She recognized Paul Fink coming from the passenger side, and she felt her 
heart leap in her bosom. He was one man she didn't want to be with, alone, 
especially on a deserted street. By now he was certainly aware she and 
Steffie were the ones taking away his clientele. 

"Hello, Pris," he greeted, his nasal voice sounding thin and reedy. 

"Mr. Fink," she nodded, and suddenly strong hands were around her, holding 
her tight, one arm around her breasts and the other hand clamped tightly 
over her mouth. Before she realized it, Priscilla found herself being 
hoisted into the air as Paul Fink grabbed her ankles. He tied a short rope 
around them and the two men brought her to the back of the Mustang. When the 
hand clamped over her mouth moved for a moment, she took a deep breath, 
ready to scream, and suddenly a kerchief, the one she'd worn around her 
neck, was being stuffed into her mouth. Another rope secured her arms to her 
sides so she couldn't raise them. Facedown, she was thrown into the smelly 
backseat of the car. The two front seat-backs were slammed back into place, 
and she felt the car shift as the two men got in. They slammed the car door, 
and drove off at a very leisurely pace. 

They drove for what seemed like forever to Priscilla. She had no conception 
of time or direction. When the car finally stopped, the two men hauled her 
out, still face-down, and carried her a short distance. One of them paused 
to set her feet down, open a door, then pick her feet up again. They carried 
her inside and shut the door. Blankets had already been hung over the 
windows, and two large lanterns were being used, since the electricity in 
the place had been shut off long ago. 

When they set Priscilla on her feet, she could see a bed with an old, lumpy 
mattress, but no bedding. The bonds were removed from her feet, and the gag 
was taken from her mouth. 

"Mr. Fink," she gasped, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but 
whatever it is, it's wrong. You'd better take me back." 

"No way," the gorilla-like voice of Herman Horowitz snapped. 

"My God!" she gasped. "What do you want?" 

"For openers, your ass," Horowitz guffawed. 

Panic gripped Priscilla, and suddenly she began screaming. She screamed long 
and loud. 

"You shut up," Horowitz bellowed at her, "or we'll kick the living crap out 
of you before we fuck the ass off you. Face it, you stuck-up, snot-nosed 
brat. You are about to get your cunt fucked good and proper. The harder you 
make it for us, the harder you make it for yourself. Got me?" 

"If you think I'm going to help you rape me, Herman, you're dumber than you 
look. And that's going some." 

"To hell with all this talk," Paul snapped, undoing the ropes around her 
arms. "See this knife?" he said to Priscilla, waving an ordinary snap-open 
pen knife in front of her. "It can kill as nicely as anything around. If you 
give us a hard time, I can use it to slice off your nipples, or cut off your 
eyelids, or even snip off your clitoris. As I recall, you have a really long 
clit, and castrating it from the rest of you won't be any kind of problem 
whatsoever." 

"You're sick!" Pris gasped, as he removed her coat. "You're really sick!" 

"Leave that little red hat of hers on," Horowitz muttered. "She looks sexier 
that way." 

"She has one nice body," Fink admitted, undoing the buttons on her blue 
mini-dress and making her remove it. Underneath, she had on a blue bra and a 
pair of blue pantyhose. 

Terrified beyond thought, unable to think at the moment, Pris stood in the 
middle of the room, trembling and wrapping her arms tightly around her body. 
They had locked the door, and she was much too frightened to think of 
crashing through a window and cutting herself to pieces on broken glass. 
This was a situation for which she was totally unprepared, and she didn't 
know what to do. 

Suddenly the two men seemed to both jump on her at once, literally tearing 
her bra and pantyhose from her body. When she struggled, they threw her 
faces down on the mattress. 

"Me, first," Horowitz insisted. "I been waiting a long time for this. Me, 
first." 

He stared at her long, columnar thighs, white even in the lantern light. She 
must have done exercises to keep her thighs so well-toned. Fink used his 
arms on her ankles to keep her thighs wide apart. Under the bikini panties 
they could see the crease of her swollen pussylips, surrounded as it was by 
the black, wiry moss of cunt hair. 

"God! Look at that body," Herman Horowitz grunted. "God! I've been waiting 
so long to fuck her." 

"No, no, no!" Priscilla screamed. 

He loved the narrowness of her naked waist above her panties, and he paused 
to admire the firm smoothness of her white back, marred only by the 
constricting lines caused by her bra. He kneeled and ran a hand over her 
shivering back, then whispered to Fink, "Shit! Just feel how smooth her back 
is. No goddamn wonder Ed Horner enjoyed fucking her. And you and I are going 
to get even more from her." 

He leaned forward a little more, sniffing with his nose, smelling the 
freshness of her back. Then he pushed a hand between her body and the 
mattress and began squeezing and kneading her small, firm, right breast. His 
hand trembled as he thrilled to the solidity of her flesh. 

"Jesus!" he gasped to Fink. "They're small, but do they ever feel great. 
I've never felt tits as firm as these." 

He felt the hard, rubbery nipples swelling in his palms as he reached 
beneath the other side of her body with his other hand and felt her other 
tit. He pulled the nipples hard, and though Pris struggled in an attempt to 
ward him off, she couldn't help feeling the strength of his caresses. When 
she almost pulled away from him at one point, he freed a hand, slapped her 
rump, and yelled, "Stay still, bitch. I've been waiting too long for this. 
I'll be goddamned if I'm going to let your stubbornness rob me of your hot 
cunt." 

His aching hands slid along the hot contours of her body, running over the 
firm, white flesh of her slender waist until they came to the elastic top of 
her panties. His hands continued moving lower, taking the panties with them. 
He moved one hand around to caress the softness of her quivering belly. 
There was no way he would have been able to tug her panties off, so he just 
simply ripped them off. 

"Look at that juicy pussy," Horowitz gasped, staring at the hair-lined 
vertical slit beneath her round buttocks. 

Priscilla, feeling Paul Fink's hold on her ankles loosen a bit, attempted to 
struggle, but Fink's grip tightened again. Realizing how utterly hopeless 
the whole thing was, she relaxed. She was going to be raped and there was 
nothing she could do about it. She simply hoped they wouldn't use metal or 
wood or sandpaper inside her. 

A moment later, she stiffened as Herman walked around in front of her and 
gripped her black hair with his hands, pulling her face up to look at him. 
He had his belt open and his pants undone with the zipper down. He dropped 
everything, underpants 

Included, giving her a close glimpse of his short, thick cock as it stood 
slightly out from under his white pelvic bush. It waggled from side to side, 
almost like half a weather vane. 

"Take a good look at it, you black-haired bitch," he told her. "I mean, take 
a really good look at it. This is the cock that's going to fit in your cunt, 
among other places. You snide bitch, snubbing me all these weeks." 

The heavy mass of white hair above his throbbing cock created the false 
impression of tremendous strength in his nuts. The swollen, bulging red 
glans seemed to tease her as its sightless eye, aimed directly at her, let a 
small drop of its colorless liquid drip onto the mattress right near her 
face. 

"Lap it up, you cunt," Horowitz snapped, cramming her head down into the 
mattress, rubbing her face into it. 

Paul, meanwhile, rested his knees on her ankles and began running his hands 
over her smooth white buttocks. He had forgotten how fabulous she was. God! 
There were nights when he dreamed of that one time he'd fucked her, but none 
of his dreams had accurately recalled how perfect her white skin really was, 
or the smoothness of her unmarred flesh. He had a clear, unobstructed view 
of her hair-surrounded nookie, especially since he had a lantern aimed 
directly at it. He saw the way the faint pink outer lips, all convex and 
pouting, parted a little to reveal the deeper richness of her pink inner 
labia. Christ! It was a fantastic sight. He would be fucking it again, 
though he'd have to wash her out if Horowitz was going in, first. 

Horowitz kicked his pants and underwear off, then dropped Pris' sobbing face 
onto the mattress. Making certain Fink was keeping her thighs wide apart, he 
rammed two fingers into her dry, pink gash. Fear had kept Pris from 
lubricating. Even though undressing normally started her creaming, this was 
one time her juices remained inside. When Horowitz rammed the two fingers 
into her dry, pink meat, Pris shuddered. But Horowitz was not ready to give 
up. He continued impatiently sawing into dry nookie, and eventually, even 
though it was against Pris' will, as his fingertips rubbed inside the outer 
flaps, a smooth, light liquid began seeping from her. She tried pulling away 
from his thrusting fingers, but one hand, pressed to her back, held her 
tightly against the bed, while Paul Fink's knees were still weighing down 
her ankles. All she could do was lie there, face-down, and inwardly cringe. 
She felt as if she no longer had the strength to cry. 

Horowitz rammed fingers deeper and deeper into her tight hole, shoving them 
farther and farther into her resisting tunnel. His fingers felt more and 
more moisture seeping out, and soon there was a flood of pussy juice in her 
vaginal causeway. He didn't try cramming his fingers in any deeper. He 
wanted the pleasure of filling her tight quim with his bursting cock. But as 
he slowly yanked his fingers out of her, he rubbed them all the harder 
against her upper vaginal wall, feeling how sensitive she was to the 
pressure he applied. 

"Jesus H. Christ!" he gasped. "She has to have the tightest nookie I have 
ever felt." 

Instead of pulling his two fingers out, as he'd originally intended, he 
jammed a third finger into her, seeing how it made her writhe and wriggle, 
knowing she was uncomfortable. When he noticed she refused to continue 
moving, he began rubbing his fingers through her seething box all the more 
quickly. 

Pris, angry at these men as well as frightened, was determined they 
shouldn't notice her becoming aroused. She didn't want them to know her body 
could be made to like things even from the creepiest of men. She could feel 
his fingers moving faster, and because they were coated with the oozing oils 
from within her body, they seemed to ease in and out. He opened the fingers 
inside her, touching three of her walls at once, making her wetter and 
wetter. 

Taking a deep breath, Priscilla tried to relax, and as she did so, she 
thought the pressure on her ankles by Paul Fink's knees seemed to lessen. 
Once more she tried to roll free, and once more she was doomed to 
disappointment. 

"Now you listen, you bitch," Horowitz said to her. "You aren't getting away. 
Fight us, and we'll tear the flesh from your body, and you'll end up buried 
somewhere as fertilizer for somebody's garden. Get me? Now get up on your 
knees." 

Paul took his knees off the girl's ankles, and 

Priscilla, knowing the two men would hurt her if she tried making a break, 
slowly came up on her knees with her head still pressing into the mattress. 
Herman Horowitz, who was now behind her and on the bed with his knees wedged 
between her thighs, prevented her from closing her thighs. He was ramming 
his three thrusting fingers a bit deeper inside her, still wanting to keep 
her tight cunt as open as possible. Not that he gave a damn whether or not 
she enjoyed what he was doing. What he did care about was keeping that hot 
hole open wide enough for him to fit his own throbbing cock inside. But he 
did notice Pris was involuntarily moving her body to counter the thrusts of 
his fingers. 

Finally he tugged his fingers out, then used his thumbs to pull her 
pussylips apart, looking into her hole, saying, "That has to be the most 
fabulous cunt I've ever seen." And then he gripped his cock with his hand 
and pressed it to the meaty opening. 

"Don't!" Pris gasped, her voice sounding dry and cracked. "Herman, don't do 
this. Please, please." 

"Stop the shitting," Horowitz snapped. "You fucked willingly enough for Ed 
Horner. I know. I followed you and Horner to Steffie's apartment that night. 
When you came back from your walk and went inside, you forgot to lock the 
door. I peeped in and saw you. It isn't as if you're some prim little 
virgin. You've been fucked before, and more than once, if what Paul, here, 
tells me, is right. So you have no cause objecting to my fucking you. Why 
the hell should you care, anyway? A cock's a cock." 

"Ohhhhhh n-o-o-o-o-o . . . " Pris gasped, feeling his solid spike of cock 
begin slamming at her leaking vagina. 

His hand, tightly gripping it, guided it past slavering vaginal outer lips. 
He felt her writhe as the unwanted pole began making inroads. Even if she 
was a bit wet inside, her cunt was not nearly wide enough, and it wasn't 
prepared to accept so thick a piece of pipe into its seething interior. Her 
tight quimwalls were being stretched and swollen as he slowly moved into 
her. Horowitz wasn't being kind, moving his prick into her simmering pussy, 
slowly. He wanted to get the full enjoyment of her burning pussy as it 
slowly enveloped his entire five-inch, broad poker, and her tight cuntwalls 
felt the agony as he pushed forward, stretching them. Little by little he 
forced the tight sleeve of her crushing pussy to open, and it hurt all the 
more because he was prolonging the entrance. Pris began weeping again, 
sobbing as the thick, stubby spike pushed its way into her. She cried to 
think he made her feel good. 

To Herman Horowitz, the sensation was fantastic. He'd never before realized 
how wonderful a woman's cunt could feel. He had never married, basically 
because there wasn't a woman in the world dumb enough to want him, even if 
he made a halfway decent living. He looked like such an ogre, and behaved so 
poorly, women, in general, wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn't even 
get many whores to do anything for him, and as a result, he did more things 
by hand than any other way. 

Now, hot and sticky, he felt the tight rubber band-like tunnel of 
Priscilla's screaming cunt squeeze the hell out of his throbbing cock. It 
was a flaming, burning sensation of tingling delight, and as he moved deeper 
and deeper into her, he felt his balls shudder with wonder and delight. 

"Christ!" he said to Paul Fink. "I've never fucked a cunt this tight in my 
life. Christ! This has to be the most fabulous pussy my cock has ever felt. 
Shit! You wouldn't believe how great it is in here." 

"I believe, I believe," Fink nodded. "I've been there before." 

Her tight vulva spread the littlest bit wider now, accepting him somewhat 
more readily, and the heated, sticky ooze wetting her inner flesh flooded 
and bathed his probing cock, making wild pinwheels of light go off in his 
mentally retarded brain. 

"God! Just look at the way its fitting into her," Horowitz gasped. "I've got 
to get it all the way in." 

Taking a deep breath, Horowitz slammed forward hard, and his solid meat 
almost tore her mucous membranes as it sank still deeper. Yet, Pris loved 
every bit of it, rough as it was, and though her mind objected to the 
presence of Herman Horowitz, the fact he was fucking her without her having 
to look at him served to enhance the tingling pressures within. 

Her brain continued to ask why Fink and Horowitz had teamed up to do this to 
her. They were sick. That seemed like the only logical explanation. 

The thick, fat prick roared through her clutching, crushing vagina, working 
faster and faster, making her lubricate that much more quickly, charging all 
the way into her aching, yearning vessel. His flat belly rammed against the 
tops of her ass-cheeks, and his curiously smooth thighs slapped against the 
lower parts of her rectal mounds, hitting them so hard they were being 
squashed flat. Flames burned through his eager lungs as he gripped her 
smooth hips and let his baton move smoothly in and out. His plundering cock 
was covered with her pussy juices as he rammed it in again and again, not 
even caring the grunts coming from her were grunts of enjoyment rather than 
gasps of sorrow. His thick dick rubbed so solidly through her tissues, it 
pressured all four walls at once, and Pris' biggest regret at that moment 
was that it was so short. Two or even three more inches would have been 
perfect. The swollen head of his pounding cock was nowhere near her cervix. 

Horowitz looked down to stare at his oil-covered schlong, gasping as he 
enjoyed the way it moved in and out of her. He could see the cuticle-shaped 
pink ridges of her inner, tender labia leaping out each time he yanked his 
throbbing penis back, and noted how everything seemed to disappear like 
magic each time he thrust forward. Now he started setting a regular fucking 
pace, in and out, in and out, slamming his entire bulk against her rounded 
moons of ass each time he slammed forward. His hands were clutching her 
white flesh so tightly, his fingers were leaving black and blue marks in her 
delicate skin. 

The flames in his lungs turned to searing metal as he gasped all the more 
heavily, forcing her thighs to open even more widely so he could study their 
contours. She was kneeling before him as if bowing, praying to a lord and 
master. True, she was facing the other way, but that was the only way he 
could get into her seething cunt as she paid him homage. His pounding prick 
continued slamming into her tight, sucking depths, and he was content she 
had been made for his own personal enjoyment. 

His mind was on fire-what there was of it-and his stabbing cock throbbed, 
his thick, bloated, swollen glans charging through her ravaged channel, 
creating the feeling he was actually slicing into her tender flesh. Where 
this female was concerned, he was a god. 

Over and over his slamming dork rammed into her red, feminine incision, 
building more and more pleasure in Pris' uncontrolled body. The muscles in 
his thighs tightened as he continued his merciless pounding, rotating his 
body as he plugged into her again and again. He wished his throbbing cock 
was longer so he could send it deeper and deeper into her damn body. He'd 
teach her to think he was a nobody. He'd show her he was as good as, if not 
better than, any other cock she'd ever had plowing into her tight, squeezing 
depths. He realized he was getting to her, listening to her sighing, 
grunting, pleasurable groans. He whished he'd brought a tape recorder so he 
could play back the sounds later on, letting her recognize her own voice, 
making her realize he had fucked her as well as any man. 

Her deep gasps mixed with guttural moans of delight were short, punctuated 
groans of pleasure. Each one seemed to begin before the other had ended, and 
Pris cursed herself for not being able to control her inner feelings. She 
was enjoying this, all of it, even though the men had frightened the wits 
out of her earlier. If this was the punishment they intended to continue 
meting out to her, she knew she would be able to outlast the two of them, 
even if she was the captive at present. 

Horowitz violently slammed his petrified cock into her steaming center 
repeatedly, as if expecting to drill up into belly. For all the energy he'd 
expended, he was now gasping and wheezing, sweat flooding his ample forehead 
and spilling into his eyes. This only made him screw his throbbing cock into 
the tender recesses of the young girl's soft pussy with that much more 
fierceness. He could feel his swollen cock becoming thicker, swearing it 
would soon burst if his rocks didn't blow off. His big ass-cheeks tightened 
as he pounded into her all the more vehemently, feeling his small scrotum 
tighten and draw up into his groin. His thighs continued wickedly slamming 
against her soft white ass-cheeks, enhancing the sensations that much more 
for him. 

For all his thrusting, Horowitz was unable to hurt Priscilla, who was in a 
rapturous state all by herself. A cock always seemed to do wonders for her. 
Her gasps and sighs were of total, wanton delight as the stubby flesh cane 
continued its reckless attack into her tight quim, reaching for her cervical 
opening, totally incapable of stretching that far. 

And then Horowitz began to feel it That sensation for which he had been 
waiting; the reason for his having gone through all this began reaching into 
him. It began pouring over him, inundating him, swallowing him up like a 
huge, gigantic tidal wave. He slammed himself all the more strongly into her 
as his entire body suddenly stiffened. 

His entire torso was a rigid board as he stiffened behind her little round 
ass, knifing his throbbing staff into her again and again. He was going to 
come. 

Pris felt his tightening, but she was way ahead of him. She had already felt 
three tiny climaxes shooting through her body, and now, suddenly, a big one 
hit her with more force than any thrust of Horowitz. 

"EEEEEAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!" she screamed, unable to control herself as her 
tight cunt began spasming around the thrusting cock, exerting more pressure 
on it than ever. Her tight cunt opened and closed, squeezing harder each 
time it closed, literally sucking the juice and the strength from his 
throbbing penis. 

"AYYYYAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" Horowitz bellowed as he began a series of long, 
spasming thrusts, violently trembling as thick, gummy wads of semen spurted 
from the tip of his flesh hose, flooding into her with burning satiety. 
Gasping shouts seemed to die in his throat as he gurgled, unable to properly 
express himself as his entire world suddenly seemed to shatter. 

Pris whined when she felt him pull out of her, but was surprised to feel him 
fall back on the bed behind her. 

"What's the matter with you?" Paul Fink asked. 

"Asthma," Horowitz gasped. "Asthma. I'm having an attack. Need mouth spray." 

"Where is it?" Paul asked as Horowitz's naked body rolled to the floor. 

"Drugstore," he gasped. "Go to the drugstore." And he mentioned the name of 
a spray. 

"You," Paul Fink said to Priscilla. "Lie down on the bed. Right now." 

She lay down, face up, and he used Herman Horowitz's belt to tie her to the 
bed. Then he said, "I'm going out to get Herman his medicine. I'll be back 
in a very short while. And then I'm going to fuck that sweet mouth of yours. 
So you limber up that tongue and get it ready for me, understand?" 

Pris could only lay there, feeling a little disgusted. Even with his 
so-called friend rolling around on the floor, unable to breathe, all Paul 
Fink could think about was getting his rocks off in her mouth. 

She lay back as Fink pulled on his jacket, opened the door, and hurried out, 
shutting and locking the door behind him. As she lay there, listening to the 
loud wheezing sounds coming from Horowitz, she felt a little ashamed that 
she, too, felt the desire for more climaxes. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Harold Frischeen had felt himself come alive for the first time in a long 
time, and he was intelligent enough to realize Priscilla was the reason. She 
was just a girl, yet in many ways she was better for him than any woman. And 
she had been good for his trust account, too. With sole power of attorney, 
she had, in a short month, increased the value of his holdings five percent. 
She was terrific. 

That Friday, instead of waiting for her to go home, shower, change, then 
come to him, Frischeen decided he would pick Pris up at her office. When he 
got to her office, he was told she had just left, and so he got into his 
Lincoln Continental and headed for the bus stop where he was told she waited 
for the bus. A block from the bus stop, he had seen her walking into a side 
street, and so he turned his car in that direction. The constant flow of 
people around his car hampered its movement. He could barely move, though as 
he approached the side street, he saw there was no traffic there. He also 
saw the old white Mustang reach the side street while he was still 
struggling to get there. The car stopped, two men got out, one started 
talking to Pris and the other one jumped her. Between them, the two men 
bound and gagged her, throwing her into the car before he had a chance to 
reach the street. And by the time he did nose his car into the side street, 
the Mustang had gone out the other end. 

For the next hour, he did his best to follow the white car, but at one point 
it reached an open stretch of road long before he did, and before he knew 
it, it had gotten away from him. He drove quickly in the hope of catching up 
with the car, but at one point he realized the car had turned off, 
somewhere. He began cruising up and down, up and down, looking through the 
various streets near the highway, finding nothing, feeling more and more 
frustrated. He had gotten a good look at the man to whom Pris had been 
talking, and if he ever saw the man's face again, he'd batter it. 

And then, as he was cruising along a side street, he saw the white Mustang. 
It was moving, and he moved right along behind it. He watched the car make a 
few turns and ultimately stop in a small shopping area. He began to wonder 
whether or not it was the same car, but then he saw the man who had been 
talking to Pris get out, and he knew he was on the right track. He waited, 
watching, and saw the man go into a drugstore, then come out. The white car 
started up again, and he followed it. This time it led back to a motel. But 
as he got closer, Harold Frischeen realized the motel was deserted. He 
watched the man get out of the white car and go into one of the units, 
closing the door behind him. 

Getting out of his own car, Frischeen decided to sneak up on the unit and 
try to see or hear what was going on inside. And if these scumbags had 
Priscilla, as he believed, he'd tear them apart. He might be a retired 
colonel, but he was still in good shape. 

Inside, Paul Fink held the mouth spray to Herman Horowitz's mouth and 
squeezed. Horowitz breathed deeply, and, after about a half minute, began 
breathing more normally. 

"You feeling better?" Fink asked. 

"Yeah," Horowitz grunted, still pretty much out of breath. 

"You just lie here and get your strength back," Fink told him. "It's my turn 
to work over the pretty little girl. And I'm going to use that sweet little 
mouth of hers." 

"Won't be able to help with Steffie," Horowitz grunted. 

"Don't worry," Fink assured him, stripping down. "I can keep working on 
Priscilla until tomorrow, when you'll have your strength back. Then we can 
go after Steffie together." 

"Unnhh!" Horowitz grunted, nodding his head in assent. 

Turning to Priscilla, Fink said, "we can do this the easy way or the hard 
way. But you'd better believe you're going to suck my cock." 

"No," Pris told him, shaking her head. 

A strong sense of shame had invaded her for the first time. She realized, no 
matter how good sex was, she wasn't some wet hole to be constantly fucked by 
men who simply felt like it. Until today, she had been choosing her men, 
though most of the men she had chosen were for business. Now she suddenly 
realized a man had chosen her, even though she didn't want the man. She 
didn't want either of the men. Knowing her body as she did, if Fink ever got 
his cock into her mouth, she'd suck it avidly in the hope of attaining an 
oral orgasm. But now, while her mind was clear, she realized she wanted 
nothing to do with either Paul Fink or Herman Horowitz. 

"You're going to do it," Fink insisted, getting on the bed and straddling 
her soft body with his knees, feeling her nipples tickle his ass as he began 
lowering his boom of cock toward her mouth. 

God! she thought. Don't, let this happen. I can't help my self for loving 
sex. It isn't my fault that I respond to a cock all the time. But there has 
to be a point where a girl says no. And where Paul Fink is concerned, my 
answer is no. 

The cock was coming closer and closer to her face. The dangling balls were 
already near her chin. 

And then there was a loud crash as a beam of twilight lanced into the room. 
The door was wide open, half off its hinges, and Harold Frischeen was in the 
doorway. 

Frischeen, seeing Priscilla tightly bound to the bed, with Paul Fink's 
thighs hovering over her face, suddenly became enraged. He charged into the 
room as Fink leaped off the bed. Before Fink could get his balance, 
Frischeen had kicked him in the balls. Fink fell back against the wall, 
clutching his crotch. 

Frischeen stalked over to where the man lay and stomped on his face a half 
dozen times, until Fink's long, bulbous, DeGaulle nose had been smashed 
flat. Then he turned to Herman Horowitz, whose naked body lay pitifully on 
the floor. But when he saw the dried drops of sperm on Horowitz's groin, and 
saw the flecks of it in Pris' dark, ebony-black hair, he became angrier than 
ever, and kicked Horowitz in the temple. 

Going over to the bed, he untied Priscilla, asking, "did they hurt you 
much?" 

"They raped me," she acknowledged. "I don't know if that's going to turn you 
off me, but I think you should know it." 

"Don't be silly," Frischeen told her. "But I'd like you to press charge 
against these two. I'll phone the police, and I can be your witness." 

"All right," Priscilla nodded, somewhat shaken. 

While Frischeen went out and used a public phone, Pris dressed as best she 
could. She was more than a little shaken, she suddenly realized. 

Three hours later, Pris and Harold Frischeen were back in her new apartment 
where she was relaxing in a tub of hot water, washing all of Herman Horowitz 
out of her. To insure having cleaned him out, she douched as well. 

When she finally came out of the bathroom, she relaxed and ate some of the 
supper Frischeen had gotten for her. 

"I hope this won't ruin our relationship," he said to her. 

"Why should it?" she asked. "I'm over the fright. And I've assured the 
police I'll testify against both men." 

"I suppose you're tired after your ordeal, and you'd like to go to sleep." 

"No, Harold," she told him, standing up and removing her robe, letting him 
see her nakedness underneath. "I want to go to bed, not to sleep." 


THE END
