DBB-195 The Country Girl
By Preston Harriman


INTRODUCTION

"Marriages are made in Heaven," according to an old and time-honored proverb. On the other hand,
Ralph Waldo Emerson, usually thought of as a philosopher of the pure sweetness-and-light school,
said, "Is not marriage an open question, when it is alleged, from the beginning of the world, that
such as are in the institution wish to get out, and such as are out wish to get in?"
The heroine of the novel you are about to read, The Country Girl, knows that she wants to get
married at virtually any cost. Stacy is a "country" girl, even though she actually lives in a very
small town. She is not a creature of the farm or wilderness, but her upbringing has been distinctly
rural, even though she has had a small taste of life in a big city. She knows she wants to escape
from the kind of existence that has been forced upon her, and she is intelligent enough to see that
getting married is the only way to do it. Exactly who she marries is secondary, although of course
she has certain strong prejudices.
Stacy might have profited from the advice of Barry R. Berkey, M. D., who practices psychiatry in
Washington, D. C, and is a much more modern and enlightened thinker on the entire subject of
marriage. Dr. Berkey said recently: "Ideally, the wedding ring is indicative of her longing—a
voluntary union of two people who marry because they want to live their lives together as husband
and wife. The ceremony traditionally includes the use of a ring, around which the bride and her
groom ecstatically exchange vows. They are two devoted people who desperately desire each other,
hopefully for all the right reasons. These right reasons are generally captured by the automatic
phrase, 'being in love.'
"Today reality dictates answers to the question of why people marry, which contrast sharply with
yesterday's romantic views. This contrast jolts us into position to scrutinize the affectionate
denotations of the wedding ring, and to allow room for considering other meanings.
"It is, in fact, rare in my opinion that the bride and groom exchange vows for the 'right' reasons.
Few people marry because they love each other; the majority marry for the 'wrong' reasons. Some
of the more common wrong reasons for marrying are the following: attraction based too heavily on
physical-sexual appeal; to escape loneliness; pressures from parents, friends, or society in general;
for economic motives of security; for social status; for reasons of pride; being in love with love
rather than one's affianced; to conceal or prove the absence of homosexual desire; because of
pregnancy; and for reasons related to interlocking neurotic attraction.
"Because it is far more common than not for a marriage to get off on the wrong foot with these
wrong reasons, the wedding ring may come to represent a confining chain that binds one to an
unloved other: a bitter symbol of imprisonment, unwanted responsibility, resentment, and even
hatred.
"Marital discord is expressed in countless ways, limited only by the ingenuity and imagination of
the involved pair..."
But in continuing to quote Dr. Berkey, fascinating as his words are, we would be getting ahead of
the story at hand. The Country Girl ends with Stacy's marriage, and does not tell us what happened
after that. The major question throughout the story is always one of which man Stacy will finally
marry, an issue which is always in doubt precisely because she has so many of the "wrong" reasons
for marrying at all.
To dispose of one question immediately, Stacy discovers at the very beginning of this powerful
novel that she is pregnant. To compound the problem, especially in the narrow-minded, prejudiced
community in which she lives, Stacy does not know for sure who the father is. She is sure, at first,
of the man she wants to marry: Saul is handsome, well-to-do, comparatively sophisticated, and
obviously in love with her. But then Alan enters the picture, in an unexpected but perhaps
inevitable way, and she begins to have trouble making up her mind.
As publishers, we feel that The Country Girl is one of the most unusual novels we have ever
presented to the reading public. It is outstanding in its depth of insight and in its basic recognition
of one of the most important and least-of-ten considered problems of today's society. Discussions
of what is wrong with the conventional form of marriage are not uncommon, but frank and
penetrating investigations of that question embodied in thrilling and entertaining fiction are rare.
Here is one, and we are proud to publish it.

The Publishers
Chatsworth, Cal.
May, 1973


CHAPTER ONE

Her heart was singing; her eyes sparkling; her spirits flying incredibly high as she clattered down
the sidewalk, her heels beating a happy rhythm. The air was warm on her cheek, reminding her of
Saul's breath the night before, and, as she moved, the slight ache in her back also reminded her of
Saul; of his wonderful staying powers, his insistence that she stay all night with him. All night he
had been on top of her, his hands exciting every particle of her flesh while his sex probed her
deeply, a never relaxing organ on which she felt herself pinned with unbelievable ecstasy. Oh, Saul,
Saul... She smiled to herself, nodding briefly to the man behind the counter at the market as she
passed quickly by. Yes, life was good when her body and mind were satisfied; and especially by a
man like Saul, who had everything, and some things better than any other man she had even been
with. She grinned and giggled quietly as she remembered their first night together and her gasp of
amazement after he'd disrobed and she saw what was in store for her. Her reaction had been almost
as spontaneous as his own when he'd gazed at her naked body and traced his fingers over her large,
beautiful orbs. "Jeez, baby, but you're stacked," he'd whispered, his lips descending on her nipples
and his fingers probing between her legs.
Saul was something else again; never had she experienced the delight he gave her nightly, and
often in the afternoon as well whenever he could slip away from work. It had been difficult though.
Kennington was a small town and even by day, the workers on Main Street kept a sharp eye open
for passersby, just like the man in the market. He was now probably turning to Miss Ketchum, who
ran the store, and saying, "Jest saw thet Parsons gal. What's she doin' all gus-sied up and lookin' so
pleased with herself?"
Yes, by day they were curious and by night there were some who sat by their living room windows,
counting the cars that were out, and trying to identify the figures, usually sitting close together.
When a car turned off toward the lake, that was tantamount to stories the next day of a new liaison
between the parties involved. No one went to the lake for any other reason than the usual one. And
in Kennington there always was one major concern of most citizens, even though Stacy had
decided long ago it was nobody's business but her own what she did in her own time.
But prudence dictated that she be discreet, even though she had probably chalked up more sexual
conquests than the local whore, whose name was Priscilla and lived down by the railroad yard and
who charged two bucks a throw for a blow job, five for an all-night session that included variations
she claimed were hers exclusively. Saul had told Stacy laughingly that Priscilla's variations were
nothing more than sticking her finger up his ass while he was fucking her. Nothing new or
especially unusual about that, but in Kennington it constituted something rather daring for the
young studs whose experience was limited to an occasional jaunt to the lake with a girl whose
precocious-ness in sex was about as broad as her education. Few girls in town finished high school;
Stacy considered herself lucky to have moved away when she was thirteen and finished school in
New Orleans before moving back to Kennington after her father died.
"How come you stay here if you hate it?" her mother asked one night, and she couldn't say it was
because of Saul, because before she met him, she had almost decided to run away and go to Dallas
or Oklahoma City, anywhere to escape the miserable drudgery of working at the drugstore for fifty
bucks a week and putting up with the obvious remarks of the young men who came in daily for no
other reason than to try and make out with her. She was pretty, she knew; no, she was beautiful,
and in addition, her bust-line was something that turned heads wherever she went. The men loved
it; the women cast snide remarks about her posture, claiming she stuck her chest out just to excite
the boys. "A sinful way to walk," old Mrs. Carruthers had said more than once at the tea-and-
biscuits session after church, "That Stacy Parsons should be spanked. She's still young enough to be
put over a man's knee and given the strap." Mrs. Carruthers had been most offended when Mrs.
Naystrom giggled and said that Stacy had probably been over a man's knee many times, but not for
spanking, and not with her rear end uppermost either.
Yes, in this small town, it was indeed fortunate for Stacy that Saul had come, had settled, taking
over his father's business, and had met her and fallen in love. It was a magnificent change to her
previous encounters with men, most of whom had been interested only in taking her to the lake for
one night. She had gone along; she was not bashful in any way. But deep inside she had always
yearned for a man like Saul, a magnificent lover, but also someone who loved her for more than her
body and her willingness to indulge in sex, as well as her fantastic ability to satisfy.
"How the hell did you learn all those things?" Saul had asked her, and she laughed, hesitated, but
finally told him. She had read a book a friend gave her in New Orleans.
"It had pictures and all," she said, "so I figured I may as well try them. And wow, since then I have
a ball with sex. Before it was just..." she paused, thought a moment, "just sort of the same old thing;
climb on, stick it in, grunt and hump, and that was that. Now I get something out of it."
Saul grinned. "You get something out of it. That's nothing to what I get out of it," he said, putting
his hand on her breast again to keep things going, although Stacy needed little prompting. She was
always ready for sex.
"You're a fucking nympho," Saul said after a week of going with her. She laughed. "You're
complaining?" He shook his head emphatically. "Hell, no, but some mornings my cock is so sore I
have to put some cream on it." This made her laugh even more, and, just to show she wasn't all that
callous, she had bent down and closed her lips around the end of his monstrous organ and kissed it
lovingly, running her tongue around the broad, flat head. "There," she said, raising up, "that's better
than any cream, isn't it?" By that time, Saul's penis was rock hard and ready for action, and he had
thrown her forcefully on the bed, straddled her, and began a slow, steady humping of her even
though they had just finished ten minutes earlier with a wild, nails-in-the-back, teeth-in-the-throat
session that had left them both fantastically satisfied. Stacy had come twice, and Saul's penis never
did go down after he ejaculated into her warm moist canal, but he withdrew and lay back, resting.
Like he told her, she was insatiable and he'd like nothing better than to fuck her twenty-four hours a
day. Only he did have a slight problem with his foreskin which was inclined to rub raw if he
continued too long. So he spaced his sex accordingly. But Stacy could have had him permanently
within her hot, oozing cunt and been perfectly content. She told him once it was the only time she
felt complete, felt wanted, felt herself a woman in every sense of the word. "And it's not just the
sex," she explained seriously, "it's you. I know you love me. That makes the difference." And Saul
agreed that made a difference with him, too, because he'd laid dozens of girls before, but no one
like Stacy.
Even in his travels as far as Los Angeles, he had never met a girl like her, young, uninhibited,
beautiful and with more tricks to satisfy his sensuality than he thought possible. Their nightly
encounters had become a contest to see who could invent some new and more thrilling way to
consummate their feelings.
"How come a country gal like you carries on like a big city whore?" he asked her bluntly one
morning as he got dressed and prepared to creep, hopefully unobserved, out of her house. She had
laughed, not at all offended, but rather flattered that he showed his appreciation verbally as well as
physically.
"Oh, I reckon I just do what comes naturally," she answered, staring up at him while he drew his
clothes over that magnificent muscular body that thrilled her just to look at it. Saul was truly
exceptional. Before he got an executive position in the oil company, he had been a rigger. The
outdoor life and the hard work had given him a build that any muscle man would envy. And he had
the equipment between his legs to go with it, too, something most muscle men didn't have, at least
not from what he or Stacy had heard. They had talked about it once when they were in the bath
together, and she asked whether he lifted weights. She had met a weightlifter once, she told him,
and even though his body was great, his penis was so small it was almost laughable. From then on,
she had always been suspicious when a man approached her who had an overly developed body.
Much as she admitted she was a body freak, she at least required that the important part of the
anatomy be equal to the task. And with Stacy, the bigger the penis, the better she liked it.
"You know," she said, again while they were both in the tub soaping each other and indulging in
sensual play, "I feel sorry for guys with small cocks. I really do."
Saul grinned. "My brother has a small one," he told her, "Real small. He's ashamed to get undressed
in front of people. And now he's married, I wonder how he does with his wife."
"He married Mary Lou Walters, didn't he?"
"Yeah. A cute chick. He doesn't know it, but I laid her about three years ago. I bet she's
disappointed with him after having my big dick up her snatch."
"Maybe she's got a small pussy," said Stacy, always the practical one, "and so they get along."
"And by that remark, I suppose you mean you've got a big one," said Saul, pushing his fingers
between her labia and tickling her clitoris wickedly.
"Not really, although once I pushed a cucumber up just to see if I could take it," she replied.
"A cucumber? Why?" he asked, amazed.
"Oh, I was horny. You know girls do all sorts of things to get their jollies. And I hadn't had a man
in about a week and was real ready for sex. No one was around. I hadn't met you then. And mama
had just brought home the vegetables. I saw this cucumber, and it looked just like a big green dick.
I stuck it up and thought I was being fucked by the Jolly Green Giant." They both laughed. "It felt
good, all right." She turned, kissed him quickly and grabbed his penis, rock hard as it usually was
with her close to him. "Not as good as this, of course, but then, nothing is." She squeezed his rod
and he sighed. "That feels great. Keep going."
"Not here," she said and they climbed out of the tub. Within minutes, still damp, they were on the
bed, and he was covering her with his body, his penis deep within her vagina. Their bodies were
merging in a quickening rhythm that brought them soon to their peak, that final moment of blinding
ecstasy when she would cry out, dig her nails into his back, and he would sink his teeth into her
neck, and then they lay back, exhausted, but knowing both were satisfied.
Stacy turned off the main street and made her way into the Professional Building. It had been six
months since she saw Dr. Hodson, and she was a stickler for physical well-being. She had planned
to see him the week before, but he was booked solid. He was the only doctor in Kennington, a
kindly old man whose experience was matched by his understanding of human weaknesses. And he
was well aware of Stacy's rampant sex life. He had never expressed his disapproval, but often
wondered how she could preserve an image of virtue in a town where everyone's business was
never their own.
"Well, Stacy, what's the problem?" he said after she had sat down opposite him. She smiled,
reached for a cigarette and exhaled slowly before replying.
"Nothing, really. I just wanted a checkup. You see, I think I'm going to be married soon."
Doc Hodson raised his tufted, graying eyebrows and smiled. "You... married?"
She glared at him in mock anger. "And what's so wrong with that?"
"Nothing, nothing," said the doctor hastily, unsure whether he had really upset her or not. "But I
thought you were the fun and fancy-free type. After all, you're only twenty-one, Stacy."
"I know. But I've met someone I think I'd better hang on to before he gets away."
They both laughed.
"That good, huh?"
She nodded. "A great guy. Maybe you know him. Saul Kaplan."
"Yes, I know Saul. In fact, I delivered his brother's baby last year."
"That's the one."
"When's the great day?"
Stacy shrugged. "When he asks me, I guess. But something tells me it won't be long."
The doctor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you by any chance planning to have a family?"
She nodded. "Yes, I suppose so. What makes you ask in that tone of voice?"
"Well, maybe I'm talking out of turn, but Saul can't become a father."
Stacy's smile faded and she stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray. There was a brief silence before
she spoke again. "I... I didn't know that."
"He didn't tell you, then."
"No, he didn't."
"Would it make any difference?"
"I guess not. But I had sorta wanted a family. And Saul sure likes to have sex. That's why we both
get along. I'm the horny type, as you know."
The doctor grinned affectionately. "Yes, but perhaps it's all for the best. At the rate you two might
go at it, you might spend all your time having children."
"I take the pill."
"Even so."
There was a silence and the doctor reached for his pipe and filled it. A moment later, the soft
aromatic fumes drifted across the desk into Stacy's nostrils.
"Why should you want a checkup now, Stacy? I mean, if you haven't even decided to get married
yet."
"Oh, I..."Stacy paused, "well, to tell you the truth, I think I may be pregnant."
The doctor's eyebrows lifted and he frowned. "Pregnant? But if you've been going with Saul, that's
impossible. And he knows it, dear."
"Well, I've only been going with him a short while. Before him there was someone else." She
paused a moment. "In fact, several others. So there's no telling who's the father."
"But you said you were taking the pill."
"I guess I forgot one day or something. Anyway, I haven't had my period this month and I'm
worried."
"Okay, young woman, I'll take a look and we'll make some tests. If you're only a few weeks gone,
maybe we can do something about it. You're all set on Saul, I gather?" She nodded. "Okay, then it
certainly won't do for you to be pregnant."
"Maybe I could tell him it's his." The doctor laughed. "Look, I've known Saul since he was a boy.
We've had many close talks. And we've done many tests. He knows he's sterile and there's no
reason on God's earth why he should suddenly become fertile just because he's been sleeping with
you. You may be able to satisfy a man, Stacy, but you sure can't give him something he doesn't
have and never will."
"Okay, if you say so." She stood up, and walked over into the small examination room behind his
office. She had been there many times; she knew the routine.
With a sigh, Doc Hodson knocked the ashes from his pipe and followed her in. Examining Stacy
was always a pleasure, even though the ethics of his profession prevented him from anything more
than a medical interest. But it still gave him a tingle in his groin when she slipped off her bra and
panties and stood naked before him, her breasts jutting out, their large nipples pointing up at him,
her slender waist accentuating the broad hips and tangle of pubic hair around her enticing little
mound. Yes, Saul Kaplan was a lucky man; but then remembering Saul's physical statistics, Doc
Hodson knew that Stacy was a fortunate woman. More fortunate than Saul's sister-in-law who,
despite the fact that she had presented her husband with a fine boy, was probably not enjoying the
pleasures that a man of Saul's sexual dimensions could provide. But at least Saul's brother could
become a father. That was something Saul would never be. An advantage in one respect, an eternal
sorrow in another.
An hour later, Stacy was making her way back down Main Street. Her suspicions had been
confirmed, and this time her heels beat a not so happy rhythm on the sidewalk. She was pregnant,
and she had no idea who the father was. Before Saul there had been several encounters with various
young men in Kennington, and one of them had been a Negro. God, what if she gave birth to a
black baby?
She shook her head unconsciously; she could give birth to no baby at all, not in her present
circumstances. Especially now she had discovered that Saul was unable to become a father. No
wonder he hadn't worried about using a contraceptive, or even asking her if she took the pill. He
knew he was safe. And she knew what his reaction would be if he discovered that she was carrying
a child. Oh, well, it would work out. Things always did, provided you took action. But what action?
She knew she had to get rid of the child and as soon as possible. Doc Hodson had told her to think
about it and come back. He could help her out there, even though it was illegal. Hell, that would be
better than Saul finding out. Christ, what a mess...
Then suddenly inspiration hit. Saul was as wild with sex as she was and had once asked her if she
liked threesomes or had ever been in an orgy. That was it. She could suggest they get someone else,
maybe Alan, the boy who worked with her at the drugstore. He was always making sly hints about
having a date with her. Maybe if they got Alan, and she had sex with him, as well as with Saul,
then there would be no problem. Saul would realize Alan was the father, and hopefully go ahead,
marry her and raise the kid as his own. And if he were sterile, he'd be even more happy having a
child that people would think was his. Far better that way than being married for years and not
having a family, almost unheard of in Kennington, where a man's virility was usually judged by the
number in his family. Yes, that was the answer; a three-way with Saul and Alan.
Suddenly her heels clicked happily again and she turned off the sidewalk into the drugstore, her
face radiant and her spirits once more flying. Alan grinned at her as she went past him to the back,
putting her purse in a drawer and slipping on the white overall before joining him behind the
counter.
"Well, you look real happy today," he said, "what's the reason?"
"Nothing special," she replied, smiling at him enticingly, "just feeling good." She paused. "Of
course, I could feel better."
"I could, too, if you'd only give in," he answered, putting his arm around her waist carefully,
making sure old Mr. Botts wasn't watching. Mr. Botts might be deaf as a post, but his eyes were
sharp and his opinion of public morals worthy of a Baptist minister.
Stacy giggled and looked up into his dark blue eyes that were burning with desire.
"You know I'm tied up," she murmured, "but maybe we could arrange something. Do you dig
threesomes?"
Alan's hand jumped off her as though electrified and his face blanched. "A... what?" he gasped.
"You heard me," she replied casually. "Maybe you'd like to join me and Saul some night. Don't tell
me you're shocked," she added, seeing his face, still missing its usual grin. "I know you read those
dirty books behind the counter when we're not busy. So you dig it, come on, don't you?"
Alan stammered, then managed a wry smile. "Well, I guess." He hesitated then admitted, "I
suppose so. But I've never done anything like that. And I'm surprised to hear you talk that way,
Stacy. I thought you were a nice girl."
"I am," she said, sliding her hand down behind the counter and groping his crotch gently. He
jumped back and she giggled. "Come on, that felt like you've got something worth investigating."
"Stacy!" His voice was horrified.
"Alan, sex is sex," she sighed. "So how about tonight? At my place, around eight."
He thought a moment, licked his lips, while his eyes ran over her breasts and down to her ample
hips. "What about your mother?"
"Mother goes to church every night," Stacy replied, "and three nights a week she goes over to
Chocktaw to take care of old Mrs. Wilson." Stacy didn't elaborate further, but her mother's absence
was the convenient reason she and Saul had been able to spend whole nights together as often as
they had. "So tonight we can have a ball. Okay with you?"
Alan's self-composure slowly returned; his face lit up and he grinned cheerfully. "Sure it's okay,"
he said softly, "and I guarantee after going with me, you'll forget about anyone else."
"Not a chance," she snapped pleasantly. "Saul's got a cock that'll make two of yours."
"Don't bank on that," he said, slipping into her casual bawdiness. "I've never had any complaints."
"Okay, we'll see. Tonight at eight. And don't forget to park around the back. If there's cars in front,
I'll get a reputation like Priscilla."
He laughed and, at that moment, two ladies entered the shop and their conversation ended as they
walked forward to serve them.
For the rest of the day, Stacy's mind teemed with excitement, not only at the prospect of having
both Saul and Alan in bed with her, but with the fact that this might be one way to overcome her
problem. She would marry Saul as planned in another month, and then the baby would be seven
months... nothing wrong with having a premature baby, and she would not let on she knew he was
sterile and just be the overjoyed wife and mother. Oh, yes, it would work out, she knew. And Saul
would have no objections to a threesome, she knew; he had talked about it once or twice before.
Sex with both of them would be a solution to everything. The rest of the day dragged by; she
attended to her work mechanically, her mind consumed by the anticipation of what the evening
would bring.
At five o'clock, she closed the door, peering out, hoping to see Saul's car waiting for her. The street
was empty. Most of the other stores in Kennington closed at four-thirty, but the drugstore stayed
open 'til five to give workers a chance to shop before heading home. By the time she had taken off
her overall, and applied a little lipstick and powder, the pale blue convertible was outside the
building, with Saul behind the wheel, a smile on his handsome face as she came out and hopped in.
"Hi, hon."
"Hi."
He pulled away and headed out to her home, which was on the outskirts of Kennington on the old
road to Oklahoma City. She stared at him, a pixy smile on her lips. He noticed it and grinned.
"You look like the cat who licked all the cream."
"I plan to."
"I hope so. He's ready for it." He felt his crotch meaningfully and she moved closer across the seat,
sliding her fingers onto his leg.
"Got a surprise for us tonight."
"Oh, what?"
"Alan's coming over."
"Alan? F'gosh sakes, why?"
She giggled. "You said you'd like a threesome, didn't you? So it's all arranged."
He took his eyes off the highway and stared at her disbelievingly. "Yeah, but he's just a kid."
"Kid nothing. He's twenty-two." Stacy knew that Saul looked upon anyone under thirty as being a
kid. He was thirty-two.
"But what brought this on?"
"Oh, we were talking, you know, and I got horny and felt his cock. It's almost as big as yours," she
lied, hoping this might excite him. "Anyway, he's coming and I want you to be nice."
"I'm always nice, but I'm having first go at you."
"That's all right. Alan can fuck me in the ass at the same time. That'll be groovy."
"You are a little whore."
She squeezed his leg and laughed loudly. "If I didn't love you, I'd slap your face for that remark.
There's only one whore in this town."
"I know. And she's pretty damn good."
"As good as me?"
"No one's as good as you, and you know it. It's lucky I don't get jealous or I'd bust you and Alan for
even thinking of a threesome."
"But, Saul, you suggested it last week. You don't want to?"
"Not really, but it might be fun. What time's he coming?"
"About eight."
"Good. I can have a quick piece of ass before then."
"You sex maniac."
They both laughed, and by this time they were out of the city limits, so she moved over, and this
time her fingers closed around his penis, already semi-hard from thinking about her, and having her
so near to him. Her very presence always excited him.
"Hm, he feels ready."
"He's always ready."
"Let's stop by the lake and you can make love to me."
"Idiot, with half the town watching from the bushes? Not likely. I'm taking you home. Your
mother'll be gone by now, I guess."
She nodded. "Yes. She leaves for Chocktaw about three."
"Fine, we'll have sex and then have dinner."
"The hell with dinner."
They both laughed again, knowing they both wanted the sex far more than they wanted food.
Besides, they could go to the drive-in later and have fried chicken.
Ten minutes later, Saul drove into the driveway and around the small clapboard house where the
Parsons had lived since Stacy's grandfather first came to Oklahoma at the turn of the century. It was
a solid house, but in need of repair. Saul had once said he'd fix the place up real nice when they
moved in after her mother died, but 'til then they put up with the weathered siding and cracked
plaster. Stacy's king-size bed was new; she had insisted on buying herself that with her first two
weeks' salary. She liked comfort, she told her mother, who was horrified.
"Why such a large bed?" the old woman demanded. "It just ain't right. In fact, it's downright
sinful."
"I like lots of room," Stacy had told her, "I have Poopsie sleeping with me and he takes up too
much room for a single bed." Poopsie was the family dog of undetermined breed but large enough
to cover a single bed by himself. He worshipped Stacy and had been with her since she was in
junior high school. He provided a legitimate excuse for the bed and her mother seemed at last
satisfied. The bed arrived and filled her bedroom almost wall to wall. It had come in more than
handy now that Stacy was using it for more than sleeping.
Saul parked the car under the old elm tree, hidden from prying eyes by the small shrubs on one side
and the barn on the other. Stacy jumped out and ran to the kitchen door, closely followed by Saul,
adjusting his crotch as he left the car. He had almost a full erection due to Stacy's fingering. They
entered the house, and at once were in each other's arms. Stacy clung to him, her hands pressing his
body close to hers, and feeling his sex against her, pushing against her mound and titillating her
sense even more than his tongue which was pushing into her mouth, mingling with her own in a
frantic exchange of sensuality. Slowly his penis rose and she felt it, hard and insistent against her
thighs. She pushed him away, took his hand and without a word, led him through the house into her
bedroom. In seconds they had disrobed and Stacy fell on the bed, her legs spread and her arms open
to receive him. He stood for a moment, gazing down at her beauty and gasping.
"You're more beautiful every time I see you," he murmured, descending slowly, crawling between
her legs and guiding his penis into her moist, hot canal that was eager for his penetration. They
never wasted time with preliminaries. Stacy wanted his rod within her right away; he didn't object.
She gasped as she felt its enormous length and thickness push her soft flesh aside, sliding over her
clitoris and sending chills through her loins.
"Oh, Saul, Saul, I love you, I love you," she cried out, moving her hips and tightening her vagina
around his shaft. "Fuck me hard, fuck me good. I want it. I need it. Now, now, baby."
He needed no urging. Stacy was the only girl he had ever known whose appeal was such that his
passion came to boiling point in seconds, and his virility pressured him to almost instant climaxing
after he had inserted himself within her. But he had learned to control his emotions; he knew she
took awhile to reach her orgasm. He began his rhythmical slow pumping, in and out, around, giving
her the ultimate in sensual pleasure, receiving himself the incredible joy of blending his body with
hers.
He bent his lips down, taking her breasts in his mouth and sucking them. As he serviced one, his
fingers played with the other, rubbing her hard nipple and squeezing those soft smooth orbs while
his hips thrust in and out of her, feeling his penis go in all the way, his broad, flat head touching her
cervix, feeling the quiver through her from the ecstasy he induced.
"Harder, faster," she breathed. "I'm almost there."
"Don't you want it to last?"
"No, we've got the whole night. I want to come now. Fuck me, Saul, stick that big thing all the way
in. Oh, Jeeeez, there it is... I'm there, I'm there!"
He felt her buck beneath him like a rampant mare and her hips came up, almost lifting him off the
bed as she strove to get every inch of him deep within her. He felt her juices flowing around his
shaft and her nails in his back, her teeth biting his earlobes, and then his own climax began, from
deep within his loins, starting right at his large, heavy balls that swung against her buttocks,
shooting up through his tube, along that incredible length and then ejaculating into her, his head
expanding, jerking, and his body glowed with each shot as he spilled his seed into her, and they
thrashed together on the bed until their passion was spent and they lay back, sweating, exhausted,
satisfied for the moment.
He climbed off her, his penis pulling out slowly and laying across his thigh.
"Christ, that was good," she gasped. "I've been waiting all day for that."
"Me, too."
He kissed her gently on the left breast, his tongue licking her nipple, still firm and hard. She looked
at him, put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him with soft passion
and then pushing him away, closing her eyes, savoring the afterglow of their sex.
"You're the best fucker I've ever been with," she said.
He grinned. "You've said that before."
"I know, and I'll say it again." She hesitated, then continued. "After we're married, I hope our son
has the same size cock his old man has. He'll be a killer."
Saul stiffened slightly; she felt it. His face became steely. "Who said we were going to have a
family?"
She stared at him innocently. "I love you, baby," she said, putting every ounce of sincerity into her
words, "and I want a little 'un just like you. I hope we have one."
"I'm not ready to start raising a family yet," he said guardedly. "I want you all to myself. With a
bunch of kids around, you'll never have time for me. I know; I've seen it happen to other guys. I
want you all to myself, Stacy."
"We'll see."
"Do me a favor," he continued, his voice still tight. "Don't talk about a family again. Not now. We'll
have plenty of time for that later. Okay?"
"Okay," she answered, knowing she had better not push her luck too far. At least she had laid the
groundwork.
She swung herself off the bed, and headed for the bathroom. He sat up and lit a cigarette, staring
after her moodily and blowing smoke rings idly across the room.
"What's the time?" she called out.
"About six-fifteen."
"You hungry?"
"I could eat something."
"Okay. I'll fix us something and then we'll be through by the time Alan gets here."
"Oh, yeah." In the thrill of sex with her, he had forgotten about Alan. "I wish he weren't coming
now."
"Why?" She stood up, flushed the toilet and walked naked into the kitchen. He followed her, sitting
at the table and staring at her body with admiration.
"Because... oh, hell, maybe I'm not in the mood."
"You will be. I'll put you in the mood," she said, coming over and kissing him quickly, "and it'll be
fun."
He stayed silent, watching her get hamburgers out of the freezer and start the gas under the drying
pan.
"Why Alan?"
She turned, grinned, and stuck out her tongue. "Because, I told you, he's got a big cock."
"You been to bed with him before?"
"Nope. But I felt him today. And he's a nice guy."
"He's still a kid."
"If he's a kid, then you're cradle-snatching with me."
"You're different. You're a girl."
"I hope so." She stared down and gave her breasts a little slap, making them bounce up and down.
"Boys don't wear these. Not the kind of boy Alan is, anyway."
He laughed. "Okay, okay. You win. Just remember, I want to be first."
"You've already been first," she reminded him. "Let's just let things work out, okay? I know he'll
want to screw my pussy so maybe you can go in the back way while he's busy in front. It's fun that
way. I've done it before, back in New Orleans once. Real wild."
"Like I said," he murmured, shaking his head, "you really are a little whore, but I love you."
She turned from the stove and smiled softly. "And I love you, too, you big-cocked bastard. I can't
wait 'til we're married, then we can fuck every night, and not have to wait 'til mother's out of the
house."
"We can still fuck every night, at my place," he said.
"Oh. And have half the town know about it?" They both knew Saul's apartment, above the
hardware store in town, was an open target for gossipmongers. Saul already had the reputation of
taking girls up there, though never once had he taken Stacy. She had refused to go, knowing what
would happen if she did. And she did not want her mother to have any inkling that she was
anything but a pure virgin who went to church every Sunday and was keeping herself for her future
husband. If Mother only knew. They often laughed about it, wondering what would happen if the
old lady came home and found them in bed together.
"Fix some hashbrowns with those burgers," said Saul, his appetite suddenly whetted by the
tempting smell of meat cooking with chopped onions.
"Anything," she said. "I cook as well as I fuck."
"Then you should be a chef," he replied, laughing. "Hey, maybe we should open a diner when we're
married. You can cook and I'll take care of the counter."
She made a face at him. "And you'd be taking care of all the girls who came in," she said in mock
anger. "No, thanks. You stay where you are behind that office desk. You're safer there."
He laughed and walked over to her, putting his arm around her waist. His fingers slid up and
squeezed her breast. "Ever been fucked while you're cooking hamburgers?"
"No, and I don't plan to try now," she said. "Go sit down."
Regretfully he released her and went back to the table. She noticed his penis had begun to rise and
she smiled inwardly. He was a man all right. He could probably fuck for twenty-four hours, like she
had wanted him to try once, only that damn foreskin of his. Maybe he should get Doc Hodson to
circumcize him. At least then he might not get those blisters... but then there would be less for her
to chew.
A few minutes later, she filled two plates and brought them to the table, and they sat and ate in
silence, gazing at each other occasionally with loving glances. Stacy was still feeling the warm
glow within her, the glow subsiding after her orgasm and the withdrawal of his large penis. It was
odd, but she had found with other men not so well endowed, she could almost forget sex within a
few minutes after it happened. But with Saul, the feeling lingered for a long time, her groin sending
pleasant chills through her, reminding her of the happening she had enjoyed so much and which she
could never get enough of. At least not with him. Oh, Saul, Saul...
She gazed at him across the table and smiled happily. She put her fingers on his arm and squeezed
him affectionately.
"Let's get married real soon, Saul."
"Okay, you name it. I'm ready."
"You sound mighty anxious."
"Honey." He looked firmly into her eyes, marveling as he always did at the wonderful blue depths,
fringed by long lashes. "I've screwed around for a long time and I've never found anyone 'til you
that I'd want in my bed more than once. So I figure, I'd better snap you up before you change your
mind."
"I couldn't change my mind. You've got everything I want in a husband. Especially a big cock. You
know I'm hung up on a big cock, don't you?"
He laughed. "Is that the only reason you want to marry me?"
"What if I said yes?"
"Then I'd beat the shit out of you."
"Try."
He leaned forward and kissed her. "Oh, Stacy, I do love you so much." They clung together, and
she thought how wonderful his lips were on her own, despite the taste of onions. "Hey, when Alan
comes, let's not answer the door. Let's just have it by ourselves."
She pulled back and shook her head. "No. I set it up. You said okay and I feel like it. And besides,
it wouldn't be right, standing him up like that. It'll be fun."
"Yeah, I know it will. I get a kick out of watching people have sex and it'll be a gas to see you
getting fucked. Like that time we did it in front of the mirror."
She giggled. "Yeah. I couldn't believe it, seeing that big stiff dick going in and out my pussy."
He laughed. "I reckon you could get a watermelon up there if you tried."
"You bastard."
She gathered up the dishes and took them over to the sink.
"The water's boiling. You want some coffee?"
"Fine."
By the time they were sitting in the living room, their steaming coffee cups before them, and
enjoying a cigarette, there was the rumble of a car and the slow scrunch of gravel under tires; Stacy
peeked out the window and saw Alan climbing out of his old Chevy.
"Company."
"Do we get dressed?"
"Hell no. Why should we?"
The knock echoed through the house and Stacy rose and went to the front door. As it swung open,
and Alan's eyes boggled at her, she laughed loudly. "What'samatter? You never seen a bare-ass
broad?"
She took his arm and tugged him inside before he could say a word. His eyes were still taking in
her breasts, swaying as she moved, and she could see his pants beginning to bulge in front. They
entered the living room, and Alan stopped, seeing Saul sitting, naked.
"Hi."
"Er... hello, Saul."
"Come and join the party. You can leave your clothes over there on the chair."
"Just like that?"
Stacy nodded. "Just like that. We've already balled once, waiting for you. I'm ready to go again."
Alan grinned, relaxed, and sat down, taking off his shoes and sox. He peeled off his shirt, then
stood up, dropping his pants. He wore no underwear; his sex sprang forth and even Saul whistled.
Stacy gasped with delight.
"Oh, wow, that looks good," she murmured, going over and squeezing Alan's penis.
"I'll say you've got a beaut," Saul muttered enviously, "I thought I was the biggest in town."
Alan grinned and looked over at Saul's organ, then nodded. "You've got more skin, buster, but I've
got more length."
As Alan's phallus rose to its full glory, Stacy had to admit that Saul was not as big as Alan. He
might have appeared thicker; most uncircumcised penises do look larger and broader. But Alan's
was longer, and the broad red head looked like a massive tomato on the end of a thick white stem.
Stacy came over and pushed herself between them.
"I can't believe this," she murmured sexily, her hands caressing both their organs at the same time.
"Two of the biggest cocks in Oklahoma and they're both mine tonight."
Saul kissed her quickly. "And you'll love every inch of them."
"You bet she will," said Alan, his body tingling with sensation from Stacy's nimble fingers. Saul
looked at him, realizing his youthful virility. He was ten years younger and his body showed it...
firm, muscular, deeply tanned, with rich black hair over his chest and around his crotch. His arms
bulged with muscles, and while Saul's physique was that of a grown mature man, Alan still had the
freshness of youth, the smoothness of skin and the grace that Saul had left behind on the oilfields
years before. Stacy looked at Alan and felt a tingle in her groin even greater than that she
experienced with Saul.
"Oh, wow, this is going to be something," she said, "I've got the two best-looking guys in
Kennington and they're both gonna fuck me. What more could any clean-living American girl ask
for?"
They both laughed and Saul went back, stood for a moment finishing his coffee, then walked
toward the bedroom, beckoning to Alan. "Come on, the bed's in here," he said briefly. "Let's get
things going. This broad's hornier than you'll ever be."
Stacy pouted at him and Alan laughed loudly.
"She's the kinkiest broad I've ever known," he said softly, "but surely the most beautiful." As Stacy
edged past him, he put out his hand and caressed her large breasts, feeling their roundness, their
incredible softness, and the hard little nipples standing up from the rosy circles at the end.
Saul jumped into the middle of the bed and lay on his back, his legs spread. Stacy climbed on
beside him and Alan sat on the edge. It was obvious he was a little unsure what his role would be.
Fortunately for him, Stacy was not reticent. She leaned over and took him by his protruding phallus
and pulled him to her, lowering her lips around the broad, red head and sucking hard. He stood,
staring at her and groaning with appreciation. Saul grinned up at him. "Good, huh?" he said. "She
sure knows how to give a good blow job."
Alan opened his eyes long enough to stare at Saul and nod briefly, then down at Stacy once again,
marveling at her face buried in his crotch, her lips pushed right up to his balls as she took his entire
length into her mouth, almost down her throat. Alan knew he was long and the fact that she took
him all amazed him. He, like Saul, had been to Priscilla for her two-dollar special, but it had been
nothing like this. Stacy was eating his cock like her very life depended on it, making little moans
and rubbing her breasts against his thighs as her face pushed into his hairy pelvic region. Her hands
were around him, her nails digging into his firm buttocks that were flexing beneath his muscular
movements, pulling and pushing his prick in and out of her mouth. "Oh, baby," he moaned, "keep
that up and I'll shoot."
Saul laughed and his hand began playing with himself as he watched, pulling his foreskin over the
end of his rod, rubbing the sensitive spot under the head.
"Oh, oh, oooooh," Alan gasped as he pulled back, withdrawing his penis from Stacy's mouth. It
stood out before him, throbbing and glistening from her saliva. She stared up at him. "Let him
shoot," she muttered, "I want to taste your come."
He shook his head. "No, I'm going to come in you," he snapped, and putting his hands beneath her
shoulders, he literally lifted her onto the bed beside Saul and straddled her, his penis pushing up
between her legs and the end touching her pubic hair, searching for her crack. "Christ, he's going to
rape me," said Stacy, giggling, and turning to Saul, giving him a quick kiss.
"You fuck her sideways," said Saul, pushing her over. "I'm going in the back door."
Stacy rolled accommodatingly over, putting her arms around Alan, and letting him guide his penis
into her warm, oozing little crevice that was aching for the feel of his rod. As he entered her, she
gave a little gasp, and cried out, "Christ, he's bigger than you, Saul. Oh, wow, fuck me, Alan, baby,
let me have it all."
He began driving his lance in and out of her, feeling the end hit bottom and shivering with delight
at the pressure of her vagina around his firm, pulsating flesh. "Oh, yes, baby, yes," he muttered, his
hands around her neck, holding her still while his mouth covered hers and their tongues merged in
one sinuous licking of sensuality.
Stacy felt Saul's hand wet her anus with his saliva, and then his rod pushed between her buttocks,
found its goal and went in through her sphincter, relaxed from long practice, not only with him but
with many others in Kennington who preferred to screw her that way to avoid any possibility of her
getting pregnant. She used to laugh when that happened, knowing that it was a favorite pastime of
Southern boys, "cornholing" instead of treating her to the ultimate pleasure. But she enjoyed it.
Stacy had always enjoyed any type of sex ever since she was ten and had been raped by her father
one night, giving the old man the shock of his life when she cooperated. Stacy had always been a
slave to her body, realizing at that early age what pleasures it could afford her.
Now, with Saul's enormous prick up her ass, and Alan humping away in front, she felt herself
flying higher and higher, suspended between them in a frantic orgy of ecstasy. Inside, she could
feel their cocks almost touching as one entered and the other withdrew, in, out, fuck, fuck, slurp,
slurp. Her vagina was awash with her own juices and she contracted it around Alan's shaft, giving
him added delight. He was thick and he almost left her canal before thrusting back in again, her
clitoris tingled with the touch of his wide flat head. Jeez, he was bigger than Saul. He was better at
sex. And he was ten years younger. Oh, wow, why hadn't she gone with him before? Why hadn't
she? He'd been right under her nose at the drugstore. And she'd never given him a tumble. Faster,
faster. Her hips were rotating. Her sphincter contracted around Saul's rod, her cunt snapped at
Alan's, and her whole body was alive with glorious sensation.
Alan's mouth was around her breasts, sucking, biting, while his hands caressed her flesh, criss-
crossing with Saul's hands as they came around her body, holding her tightly as his hips thrust
himself in and out between her beautifully smooth, rounded, tight buttocks, his penis sliding in and
out of her willing asshole. This was what she really loved; to be the center of attention, not just one
man, but two, three... the whole world. Why not? She wished she could line up every man there
was and take him on, one, two, three, four at a time. Sex, sex, sex... fuck, fuck, fuck... more, more.
Her throat was making little grunting sounds of passionate approval, groaning, gasping, every nerve
tingling with the height of delight. The bed was rocking and their bodies were dripping with sweat
as their combined efforts brought a heat greater than she had ever known before. Faster, faster.
Alan was crying, his voice saying how wonderful she was, how great he felt, and that soon...
soon—"Oh, Christ, I'm there, I'm coming."
She rotated her hips even faster and felt her own orgasm shaking her loins, beginning deep within
her cunt, and exploding along her canal, juices flowing, come shooting into her and running down
out her twat, mingling with the sweat between her legs and her ass as Saul's rod jerked and he shot
his load again into her. She pictured Alan's enormous organ throbbing and shooting gobs of
lovejuice into her while his lips sucked her breasts and he moaned with delight. Saul had cried out,
too, and she gloried in their sounds of sex; their cries of ultimate approval and the feel within her of
their rods coming deep inside her.
For a moment they all seemed suspended in space. Then slowly they descended. She felt Saul's
cock soften and pull out of her ass, staying between her cheeks; Alan's prick slowly withdrew and
as he slid out, he gave a little cry and clung to her. Then she looked from one to the other and
grinned.
"Wow, that was really something," she whispered. "I think I came twice. It was the best fuck ever,
bar none." She leaned over impulsively and kissed Alan on the lips, tonguing him quickly. "You're
the best yet," she said, and the words were out before she realized it. She turned and saw Saul's
steely eyes on her. "Oh, so you've found someone better than me?" he snapped, but his voice was
not harsh. She realized he was kidding, but she still knew she should not have said it. She leaned
over to Saul and kissed him. "Everyone seems the best the first go-round," she murmured
placatingly, and Saul smiled with no hint of displeasure on his handsome face. He embraced her
and she felt the genuine warmth flow from his body to hers.
Stacy broke away and reached again for Alan's cock, giving it a firm squeeze, feeling the wonderful
thickness there and a responsive quiver along its length.
Alan laughed. "You're sure hung up on big cocks," he said quietly. Stacy nodded and took Saul's
penis in her other hand, rolling the foreskin back and forth over the head. Saul closed his eyes and
sighed contentedly, while Alan's body glowed with the identical pleasure that her fingers coaxed
from his organ.
"I could lay here and be fucked by you two for the rest of my life," Stacy murmured, the memory of
Alan's cock deep in her cunt still vivid in her mind.
"You loved it," said Saul, "and you always will, you horny little bitch."
She pouted at him, and grinned. "Yeah, I got what I wanted," she said, smiling inwardly at the
thought of Saul's reaction if he only knew. Yeah, Alan had hopefully supplied the final piece in the
jigsaw of her lovelife. Now there could be no doubt when she told Saul she was pregnant. He
would know it was Alan; that it had to be Alan, and not one of those others whose names she had
already forgotten. Except the Negro, of course. She would always remember him; she thought for a
moment of his thick, black piece of meat sliding into her firm white-pink pussy. Christ, she hoped it
wasn't his child she was carrying. A black baby would really blow the scene.
Yes, Saul had seen her get fucked by Alan. He obviously approved. So there was nothing left now
but fuck all night, and from the look of Alan's cock he was ready to go again at once. Saul was still
soft. Maybe that was the difference between a twenty-two-year-old stud and a thirty-two-year-old.
Without a word, she rolled into Alan's eager embrace and began kissing him, unaware of Saul
except for the fact that her one hand still held his penis, limp in her fingers, but hardening slowly.
Let him get stiff, she thought, then maybe I'll go over to him. 'Til then, there's this new, wonderful
cocksman here, able to go again, to stuff his throbbing prick deep into her warm hungry cavern and
bring her once more to such heights of ecstasy she thought her body would fly apart beneath the
explosion in her limbs.
"Fuck me, Alan," she whispered, breaking away long enough to stare dreamily into his eyes and
catch the burning passion there.
"Go, man, go," Saul said, and Stacy felt his penis harden in her fingers as she let him go, embracing
Alan tightly as they rolled once more into the eternal position of lovers, while Saul looked on, his
hand replacing Stacy's on his firm phallus, moving his skin gently back and forth while Alan's hips
began a steady rhythm, driving his rod into the yawning chasm between her legs.
Stacy looked over at him. "My ass is ready," she muttered.
He laughed and shook his head. "You go ahead," he said. "I'll sit this one out and watch. I'm getting
my kicks."
"Bastard," she said, leaning over and kissing him quickly before returning her full attention to Alan,
whose lips had closed around her nipples and were sucking, biting, exciting her to an almost
unbearable heat of passion. Her hips joined his rhythm and the bed rocked beneath his thrusting.
"Christ, you're a groovy fuck," said Alan.
"You're goddamn right," she snapped. "Now shut up and give it all to me. Give it to me hard and
fast, every inch of that cock."


CHAPTER TWO

After they had left, Stacy lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about her situation.
Despite Saul's insistence that he stay the night (Alan had decided to leave around twelve) she told
him she was tired and wanted to be alone. He seemed a little upset, and asked her if she was mad at
him, but she convinced him everything was fine; she just felt like being by herself, to think, to mull
over the future. She couldn't tell him exactly why, and her desire for solitude certainly seemed
incongruous compared with her usual feelings toward men. Even lying by herself, the memory of
Saul's magnificence in bed wracked her groin with pulsating heat, and she finally came to the
conclusion that they would make an ideal couple. They were each as oversexed as the other,
wanting more of the pleasures that their bodies afforded them. But there was still Alan, that
beautiful magnificent specimen of manhood, young manhood, too, closer to her own age, and
certainly her equal in sex.
She let her mind drift into a half sleep and found herself reliving the moments with Alan. He had
been the biggest surprise of her life. He had worked at the drugstore with her for over six months
and she had never made a date with him because she adhered to the old saying of never shitting on
your own doorstep. She felt any socializing with Alan might start tongues wagging, especially as
old Mr. Botts was singularly suspicious of her. He had given her the job because he knew Stacy's
mother from church and felt he was doing them a favor. Her work was beyond criticism; business
had picked up, especially among the male element in Kennington, all of whom came in just to ogle
her outstanding figure, a standout even under the concealing white smock she wore behind the
counter.
Mr. Botts would often stand behind his pharmacy window and stare at her disapprovingly. Stacy
was well aware that one false move and she would be out, but she needed the job for the money.
Which was another reason she wanted to get married soon. She knew Saul made very good money,
which meant she could quit her job, stay home and take life easy. Oh, yes, marriage would solve a
lot of problems, not the least being her pregnancy. And it would be with Saul, of course. He was
the most likely candidate in town. Or was he? What about Alan? He had a bigger prick than Saul,
plus a great body, and he was handsome as all get out. Why not Alan?
Stacy slid her hand down her body and let it nestle between her legs, feeling herself gently and
remembering Alan's enormous tool as it had slid into her, massaging her clitoris as she was doing
now, his warm lips on her breasts and his tongue in her mouth as he'd made passionate love to her.
Yes, he definitely was bigger and better than Saul, and he was ten years younger. But then... he
didn't own and manage a money-making business that would insure financial security. He was
merely a pharmacist's assistant, making, she estimated, about a hundred bucks a week; no wonder
he talked of bugging out and heading for Los Angeles. With his looks, he'd probably end up in the
movies. No, much as she liked sex with Alan, he wasn't marriage material. It had to be Saul. And
now the problem of her pregnancy was solved, as Saul had seen Alan stick that big thing deep into
her and shoot his wad into her hot, eager vagina. He didn't know Doc Hodson had told her about his
being sterile, so when she told him, he would look pretty stupid to deny it was his. No man likes his
virility questioned, especially by his wife. So they would have the child and this would save her the
inconvenience and possible danger of having an abortion. Besides, she had often thought it would
be nice to have a baby... she had always liked children.
Her fingers moved faster and she took her clitoris between her fingers and tweaked it. A shudder of
delight suffused her loins, then sleep and fatigue overcame her desires. Her hand slid out and in
seconds she had dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep, content in the knowledge that her problem
had been solved.
The next day Stacy walked into the drugstore and saw Alan already behind the counter. He must
have got there earlier than usual. He smiled at her and, as she approached, put his hand around her
waist. As she started to draw away, he said firmly, "Don't worry. The old bastard's out at the bank."
Before she could stop, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. She reciprocated for
a moment then pulled away. "Alan!"
He squeezed her gently. "That's to tell you last night was great," he said seriously. "I've always
wanted to make love to you, Stacy." He paused a moment, watching her intently. "I'm only sorry it
had to be a three-way. I really want you alone."
She walked to the back, shrugging off her sweater. "No chance," she said over her shoulder. "Saul's
number one in line. The three-way was really his idea. He's mad on sex."
He came up behind her and helped her into her smock. "I think the three-way was your idea," he
said softly, "You're a horny little bitch, but I love you."
She turned, her eyes flashing, then she saw his face and his expression was sincere and serious.
"Don't get serious, Alan," she said gravely. "Sex is sex and that's all. Nothing more.
Okay?" She waited for his reaction.
He shook his head. "Nope, it isn't," he replied. "I know you dig what I've got between my legs. I'm
bigger than Saul and I can do anything he can do and better. Just try me one night and see."
"Sorry. Like I said..."
He cut her off with another quick kiss on the lips before she could pull back. Deep inside, she knew
she really didn't want to. His lips were warm, moist, and incredibly exciting.
"You're not going to let a little thing like Saul interfere with us having a good time, are you now?"
She stared at him fixedly, a suspicion of a smile on her lips. She put her hand up against his chest
gently. "You're mighty sure of yourself, aren't you?"
He nodded. "Yup. After last night I am."
She laughed and pushed past him, walking back behind the counter and pretending to straighten
some cosmetics.
"Listen, Alan, last night was last night. Don't try and screw up my life or yours, just because I
dropped my drawers for you. Besides..." she stopped, a pretended sneer on her face, "I don't think
you can really match Saul. You might have a bigger dick but there're more things than that."
He laughed coarsely. "Crap!" His voice exploded across the store. She glanced nervously toward
the door, afraid someone might hear him and come in curiously. "You dig a big dick and you know
it. And I've got it over Saul in that department. You said so yourself, and that's what you go for,
you little horny bitch."
His face was flushed and he came to her, grabbing her by the wrist so hard she flinched.
"Alan, you're hurting me."
"So what? That goes with the scene, too. You like a big cock and a big guy, someone to treat you
rough. I'm a guy who digs broads and you're the one I want." The harshness in his voice faded as
quickly as it had come. "Stacy, I'm in love with you, baby. I always have been, ever since I came to
work here. Why do you think I stayed on here?"
She flushed. "Don't start that, Alan. It's too early, for one thing, and besides..." She turned away and
tried desperately to concentrate on the cosmetics and still the frantic pounding of her heart. "Saul
and I are getting married soon."
Alan laughed. "Getting married? Why?"
"Because we love each other, that's why."
He laughed again, this time louder and with a coarseness that made her cringe. "Because you like
fucking together, you mean. Hell, you can do that without getting married."
"Not in this town, you can't. It's a miracle there hasn't been any talk so far. You know how people
are."
"Then why did you ask me last night? There's something fishy here, Stacy. We work together every
day and have for six months, and you've never as much as given me the time of day. Now, all of a
sudden, you ask me for a threesome with Saul. No, baby, you've blown it. There's something
cooking."
"You're out of your skull." She lifted her head and a smile broke across her features. "Good
morning, Mr. Botts."
Alan straightened up and moved down the counter, glaring at the old man who had come in, a
frown on his lined, fat face.
"Good morning, Stacy. I'm glad to see you're working. It might be a lesson for you, Alan. Aren't
there some prescriptions that need filling?"
"Yes, Mr. Botts. Right away. I was just talking to Stacy."
Mr. Botts' eyes gleamed like two coals in his face and he snorted as he deposited the bag of change
in the cash register. "I'm sure you have lots to talk about, but not on my time," he snapped, "so get
busy. I don't pay you to annoy Stacy during working hours."
Stacy, still smiling, lifted her head. "He wasn't annoying me, Mr. Botts. We were just talking about
the sermon Reverend Cowley gave last Sunday. I thought it was a little indelicate and Alan was
explaining it to me."
"Hrumph. That's different then." He turned away, then paused. "I agree about your remark. I've
never liked Reverend Cowley. Too modern. Too free with his language, if you ask me. It ain't
proper for a minister of God to talk about such things as he does."
He disappeared into the back room to change his coat, and Stacy grinned over at Alan. "Fuck him,"
she whispered.
He grinned back at her. "I'd love to," he said softly, "but his ass is probably as loose as a Christmas
turkey."
She laughed and bent down to get another drawer of lipsticks to arrange on the counter.
"I still do love you," Alan said, and before she could answer, Mrs. Carruthers came marching into
the store, a stern look on her thin, lined face crowned by the same straw bonnet she had worn for
years and which had become her trademark in Kennington.
"Young woman, do you have any glycerine and rosewater?"
Stacy nodded and reached up on the shelf, handing the bottle over. Mrs. Carruthers took it, her
hand reminding Stacy of a bird's claw reaching for a branch. Her beady eyes read the label, then she
nodded, handed it back and scratched in her purse for some money.
"Eighty-five cents," she said.
"It's a dollar-five, Mrs. Carruthers," said Stacy. "The price went up last year."
"It's been eighty-five cents for fifteen years," snapped the old woman.
"Well, it's a dollar-five now."
"Hm. No telling why. I guess Mr. Botts wants to buy himself a new car."
Mr. Botts appeared as her words echoed through the store. His face flushed and he came forward, a
look of disapproval on his face. "Mrs. Carruthers, if you prefer, you may purchase your drug needs
at the supermarket. I hear they're cheaper there." He reached out and replaced the bottle on the
shelf, and stood, his eyes flashing.
"Well, I never!" Mrs. Carruthers turned, marched to the door, and paused, looking back defiantly.
"I think I'll report you," she said icily, "to the... the Chamber of Commerce. Such insolence. Hum."
She walked out and Mr. Botts sniffed, then walked slowly back to the far counter.
"She'll be back," he muttered. "She has to. She owes me money." He snickered to himself and Stacy
smiled. Alan looked up from filling his prescriptions and shook his head sadly.
"They don't understand everything's gone up," Mr. Botts continued, almost to himself. "And they
still expect things to cost the same. Nothing's the same as it was. Nothing."
"Except people, Mr. Botts," said Stacy. "In Kennington, they'll never change."
"Maybe you're right, maybe you're right. It isn't the most progressive town in Oklahoma."
Alan laughed. "It's the end of the world, let's face it."
"I wouldn't put it that way, Alan," said Mr. Botts, "this town has been good to me over the years.
There are some good folks in these parts. Mrs. Carruthers is just feeling the heat, I gather." He
mopped his brow. "I guess I'll have to break down and install an air conditioner one of these days.
The summers are becoming unbearable."
Alan nodded. "They sure are. Kennington's a hot place in July."
Stacy giggled. "It's a hot place any month of the year," she said, then turned away before Mr. Botts
could see the devilish wink she gave Alan, who flushed and went back to the prescription file. Yes,
it was hot, Alan thought, but not as hot as that little number over there, looking so innocent, so
pure, the town's prize virgin. Christ, if they only knew...
Mr. Botts went out for his lunch, going, as he had for forty years, to the Summit Hotel and joining
the other old-timers who would partake of the ninety-cent plate lunch and the latest gossip, which
came naturally from their wives the night before. Stacy watched him as he crossed the street, his
waddling gait a familiar sight in the town, his habits catalogued, his nature established. Mr. Botts
was an old reliable; one of the first businessmen in Kennington. A pillar of respectability.
She turned to Alan, who was sitting behind the counter chewing on a hamburger he had run out and
bought while Mr. Botts was in the bathroom, an event that usually took ten minutes despite the old
man's reliance on his own constipation cure. Stacy had threatened once to bring her small tape
recorder down and tape the pitiful gruntings that emerged through the thin panel. Alan thought this
would be a good idea, but Stacy never did it.
It had been one of those daring things she thought of, but never did. Like most of her projects, with
the exception of last night. She realized it must have been the desperation of her position that drove
her to such a foolish move. Until then, the only persons who knew of her promiscuity were her
partners, and they knew the town well enough themselves not to speak of their private lives. Now
Alan knew, and he worked with her. And he had said again, only a few minutes before, that he was
in love with her. Christ, what a fucking mess... She wished Saul would come. She only had a hour
for lunch and already five minutes had ticked by. She wanted to get out, away from Alan, whose
comments were getting to her.
"Come on, Stacy, quit being that way," he said in between mouthfuls. "No need to get riled up."
"I am not riled up," she snapped. "I just don't want to listen to you anymore. I'm not in love with
you and I don't want you saying you are with me. It isn't right. I'm marrying Saul."
Alan grinned. "That'll make it real convenient. I can come over to liven up the party."
"Here he is. See you soon."
Thankfully she ran out and jumped into the convertible, thankful for the fact that the top was down
and the breeze could cool her forehead and blow away the confusion inside her brain.
"What's the matter?" Saul's voice was quiet and concerned.
"Nothing. I'm just hot and disgusted. I'll be glad when I can quit that job. Saul..." she turned to him
with one of her best smiles, "when are we getting married?"
"Oh, so you just want to marry me so you can quit work. Is that it?"
"You know it isn't. But I'm real anxious. Honest. Last night did something to me."
Saul grinned at her. "It was fun."
"Yes, but I wish it hadn't happened now."
"Why? Alan bothering you?"
"Sort of. He says he's in love with me."
Saul laughed loudly and turned off the road into the drive-in. "Honey, every guy in this town's in
love with you."
They pulled up. The waiter came over and they gave their order. Stacy wiped her brow. Even under
the awning it was too hot for comfort. She noticed that Saul's shirt was wet and sticking to his skin.
For a second it reminded her of last night and the streams of sweat that had poured off their bodies
during their more passionate moments. Saul had always perspired freely and in a perverse way she
enjoyed it; she told him it made their bodies slick when they touched and that was exciting,
especially his smooth skin sliding over her nipples.
"I don't know. Maybe they are. But Alan's different. He is a nice guy. I wouldn't've asked him if he
wasn't. But he's been after me all morning for another date. Alone." Saul raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, he says he can do anything you can and better."
"Well, maybe he can. So what? It's me you're going to marry, so let him eat his heart out."
"Okay. When?"
"Like I said, you're suddenly all-fired anxious. Last week you didn't really care when. I'd still rather
wait."
Stacy bit her lip and turned away. She knew he wanted to settle some big deal he had pending and
that would take a month or two at least. And by then, he would have to know she was pregnant.
"But I don't want to. I want us to get married now. We can drive to Tulsa and get married this
weekend."
"We still have to wait for the blood test."
"Okay, whenever, but let's make a date for it, Saul. Please, Saul, honey. I want to be Mrs. Kaplan
real bad." She put her hand out and touched his damp trouser leg. "I really do, hon."
He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed her fingers. "Okay, okay, you win. We'll get married
this week. In fact, let's stop by Doc Hodson on the way back after lunch and get our tests."
"All right."
Their food arrived and they were silent while they ate. Stacy felt better; at least she had pinned him
down. They finished their lunch and Saul paid. They pulled out, heading back up Main Street. Saul
drove around the back of the Professional Building and they went in together. Stacy's heart was
pounding; she hoped that Doc would say nothing in front of Saul that might affect his feelings or
his decision. But the old man was discreet; he knew Stacy well enough. She felt she could rely on
him to keep his mouth shut.
They went up in the elevator and walked down the corridor to his consulting rooms at the end of
the hall. Doc Hodson was in the waiting room when they entered and he looked up with a happy
smile.
"Stacy, good to see you. Hello, Saul." He paused, and then a knowing smile spread across his
friendly features. "Oh-oh. Don't tell me you've come for what I think you've come for."
Stacy nodded. "Our blood tests. We're getting married, Doc."
"Congratulations." He put out his hand and shook Saul's. "You're a lucky man, Saul. You've got
one hunk of woman here."
Stacy blushed, something she had learned to do on cue. "Come on, Doc, he knows what he's
getting."
"I'm sure he does," said Doc Hodson with a sly wink at Saul.
Without further conversation, they went into the back room and within minutes, two syringes were
filled with their dark blue-red liquid. Stacy pressed the bandage down on her arm and slid her
sleeve back down.
"I'll have the report in about three days," said the doctor, "and I don't think there'll be any reason to
say you can't get married."
"I hope not," said Stacy, "I'm real anxious, Doc."
"She's always anxious," said Saul, and they all laughed. "Thanks, Doc. We gotta run now. Stacy's
due back at work and I have a meeting this afternoon."
They left, walking out into the steamy afternoon sunshine.
"I know you have a long drive," said Stacy. "I'll walk." Saul's offices were about five miles out of
Kennington. "And I'll look for you around five, okay?"
He nodded and gave her a broad wink. "Just us tonight?"
"Yeah, just us. I had enough of Alan last night."
"I thought you enjoyed it."
"I did, but it's you I want to enjoy tonight."
As she walked off into the center of town, she wondered whether she had been telling the truth.
Was it Saul she wanted, or was it Alan with that beautiful big cock of his? The memory of its size
and shape excited her mind and she felt her groin twinge with desire. Yes, Alan was more than
desirable. Oh, shit. With an impatient gesture, she stalked behind the counter and pulled on her
smock. Alan smiled at her, and she sniffed and looked away. Fortunately at that moment, Mr. Botts
called him into the back to help with a prescription and also Mrs. Reyville came in for some face
powder. The afternoon settled down to its usual routine and, within an hour, Stacy had forgotten
her antagonism after lunch; in fact, she felt quite herself, content in the knowledge that very soon
she would be a respectably married woman; and what was more important, he was handsome and
he was rich. And he said he loved her. And in her own way, she loved him too, though whenever
her anger boiled up, she doubted her own feelings in that direction. She loved having sex with Saul,
that was for sure. But whether she loved him..?
She was thankful the store was quite busy that afternoon. It gave her little time to brood over her
problems which strangely enough only seemed to loom menacingly in her consciousness when she
was away from Saul. She wished it were the end of the week and they were already married. Saul
had said they might even build a new house down by the lake. That would be nice; even better than
redoing their home, because it was obvious Stacy's mother would live for a long while yet, and
besides, Stacy would rather be away from old memories. She would never forget the night her
father had come into her room and things had happened... the old bastard. His own daughter. Oh,
well, that was a long time ago. He was dead and she was alive. Very much alive, and with so much
before her, like a handsome rich husband. But now there was also Alan. Dammit.
Around four o'clock there was a lull. Mr. Botts went over to the cafe for some coffee, and Alan
came round to Stacy's side of the store and put his hand against her thigh. She jerked herself away
and glared at him.
"Quit that."
"You know you love it."
"Maybe so, but not here. For Chrissake, Alan, stop acting like a stud stallion just because of last
night."
"I love you, I love you," he whispered, his mouth almost in her ear. She shivered, feeling an instant
response in her groin. His heavy breath excited her and his eager face reminded her of when it had
been pressed to hers the night before, and how he had made such wonderful love to her.
"Alan, get away from me. Honest, now, this is getting too much. Anyone's liable to walk in and see
you."
"Fuck 'em. I'm going to marry you, Stacy."
She stared at him incredulously and broke out laughing.
"It's nothing very funny."
"Oh, but it is. You see, Saul and I are getting married this week. We went for our blood tests during
lunchtime."
"I'll carry you off and he'll never find us."
"And what," her voice was bitter with sarcasm, "are you going to do for money?"
He smiled smugly. "I've got some saved."
"Well, Saul has much more than that. And I don't plan to be the wife of a drugstore clerk."
"We'll see."
She giggled again. "Oh, Alan, come off it. You're just a horny bastard and you know I am, too, so
let's leave it at that. I wouldn't marry you, you know that. And certainly not just because we had a
little fun last night."
"Last night has nothing to do with it."
"I think it does."
"No, it doesn't. You'll see. You've got a little surprise coming, in case you don't know it."
"The only surprise coming is one for you," said Stacy, bursting out laughing, thinking of her
pregnancy again and the expression on Alan's face when he would be confronted with it. That
would really be something: Saul being afraid to admit he was sterile; Alan being blamed for it. And
in reality, it was some stud she'd dropped her drawers for about six weeks before, and she couldn't
even remember who it was. Oh, that was really funny.
Stacy burst out laughing again, and finally Alan moved back to his side of the store, his face dark
with anger. Finally she calmed down, wiped her eyes and sat down on the small stool behind the
cosmetic counter.
"You slay me," she murmured.
"Maybe I will," he spat back at her, and his face almost made her wince, it was so set in anger,
almost hate. "I don't like being laughed at, Stacy."
"I wasn't laughing at you," she said lamely. "I was thinking of something else, that's all."
Her eyes followed him as he moved away. His expression had almost scared her for a moment. He
genuinely looked as though he could have cheerfully killed her. She would have to remember not to
laugh at him anymore; she knew there were some people who were real sensitive about that. At any
rate, it was funny to her. And inside she was still bubbling, but slowly the feeling passed. She
looked at her watch. Four-fifteen. Thank God. Only forty-five more minutes and Saul would be
there and they would go home. Mama was still away and that meant another night with Saul,
enclosed in his strong arms, his lips on hers, his sex with in her.
She busied herself clearing up the counter, wiping it down with glass cleaner. She was giving the
final polish to the surface when Mr. Botts returned, giving her an approving glance. Much as her
sexuality roused his suspicions, he was easily placated when he saw how busy she kept herself and
how much the customers liked her. He shuffled back to his corner and before Stacy knew it, he was
over again at the door, turning the latch and turning round the sign which said CLOSED on one
side, OPEN on the other. She reached for her purse, dabbed her lips, inspected her cheeks and
brushed them briefly with a puff. She straightened her dress then stood by the door, waiting for
Saul. He wasn't long; within minutes, the convertible pulled up and she threw a quick "'Bye" over
her shoulder to Mr. Botts and Alan, who were still in the back as she ran out and jumped into the
car.
"Let's go," she said. "Christ, am I glad to get out of there!" She sighed with relief.
Saul paused a moment. His face was serious. "I have bad news," he said abruptly. "I have to go to a
meeting tonight. It's that big deal I told you about. Two of the guys drove in unexpectedly from
Tulsa."
Stacy stared at him, her face dropping. "No, no," she said piteously, "not tonight. Oh, Saul."
"I know. I know." He started the car forward slowly. "I can't help it, hon. I'll take you home."
She bit her lip and looked out the window. Dammit, she was really looking forward to being with
him tonight. The frustrations of the day, together with Alan's incessant badgering, had aroused her.
She knew she wanted sex now; it was one good way of soothing her ruffled feelings, it always was.
"Saul." She moved over and put her hand carefully on his thigh, out of sight of passing pedestrians.
"Saul, can't you stay just a while and then go?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I have to get right back. We're all having dinner together and then God
knows how long the meeting'll take. I'd say I'd come by later, but I'm not sure when it will be." He
gunned the motor as he headed out of town. "Guess we'll just have to wait, hon. I'm sorry, I really
am. But remember," he took his eyes off the road and stared at her lovingly, "it's for our future.
That deal will mean a lot of dough in the bank. And that means for you as well as for me."
"Yes, yes," she said impatiently, "I understand." But in her heart she didn't; to her, she came first.
Business could have waited 'til the morning. It wasn't that all-fired important, even if they did come
in from Tulsa. Jeez. He could have put it off if he'd really wanted to.
She stared at his handsome face, set grimly as she steered the car carefully around a truck. She
wanted him and she wanted him tonight. Or was it that she wanted sex tonight and it didn't really
matter if it was Saul or someone else? Maybe Alan? Without realizing the implications, she knew
she wanted sex, and it didn't matter if it was Saul, or Alan, or...
"Here we are." He bent over and kissed her quickly, not even opening his mouth. A peck. That's all.
A peck. She frowned, then slid out and banged the car door.
"See you tomorrow for lunch?"
She nodded.
"Come on, try a smile. It's not my fault."
"You could've put them off."
"Stacy, I've been angling for this for months. It's a big opportunity. Don't you realize..."
"Yes, I do realize," she said heatedly, "that your business is more important than I am."
"Crap, don't start that routine now. Come on, send me off with a happy feeling at least." He smiled
at her and she relented, smiled back, and leaned into the car, kissing him properly. Then she felt
better. The car moved forward and in seconds was gone. Stacy turned and walked up on the porch,
let herself into the house, and then, as an afterthought, slammed the front door with a resounding
bang.
"Goddamn mother-fucker," she shouted, and that made her feel even better still. With a giggle she
walked through to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk, sitting down at the table and
ruminating over the prospect of spending the night alone in the house, something which always
depressed her. It brought back too many memories. Especially of her father; especially that one
night when he had lurched into her room and he had no pants on, and his penis, large, firm and
wrinkled, protruded from between his legs. She had been curious, then interested, then cooperative
and together they had thrashed on the bed. Only when it was over and she felt the pain-pleasure of
having a man for the first time, did she start crying, not from guilt, not from fear, she just cried.
Years later she knew why, because the first boy she really liked had said to her, "Jeez, how come
you're not cherry?" And she couldn't tell him why. Even if she could, she would have preferred it if
he hadn't had occasion to ask. But it was too late then, and what did it matter, really? It certainly
didn't matter now. The only thing that really mattered was the fact that she was sitting alone, an
empty glass on the table, and an empty feeling within her. Oh, God, let someone call or come by.
Maybe Alan. Yes, especially Alan. In her frustration, she forgot the scene they had that day; she
remembered only his magnificent body, his marvelous sex from the night before. And she wanted
more. Yes, maybe Alan would come by.
He did. Around seven o'clock, by which time she had finished washing the dinner plates and pans
and was reconciling herself to going to bed early with a book. She heard the car, looked out and
saw him driving around, out of sight behind the barn. Her heart beat a wild, happy rhythm against
her chest, but she preserved an outward aloofness as he came walking quietly toward the back door.
She opened it before he could knock. He stopped, staring at her, and then smiled.
"You've got some nerve," she snapped, her voice heated with pretended anger, "coming here
tonight."
"Stacy," he said, stepping forward, "I came to apologize. I don't know what happened to me in the
store."
"It's all right. Now beat it."
"But...but..." his face took on a devilish grin. "I thought maybe you and Saul might want company
tonight again. How about it, Stacy? We did have fun."
"Sure we did," she replied, her voice softening, "but Saul ain't here. He has a meeting."
"You mean you're alone?" There was no denying the eagerness in his voice.
"Yup. As alone as I'll ever be." She smiled. "You want to come in?"
"Do I want to come in?" he laughed loudly and walked forward, entering the house as she stepped
back. By the time she had closed the door, he had reached for her, pulled her roughly into his arms,
and she felt the hot pressure of his mouth on hers his tongue probing, licking, exciting her. His hips
ground against her body and she felt herself respond. Oh, Christ, this was going to be something...
Thank God he came by. Now we can see what he does without Saul around. Her excitement
mounted.
She broke away, took his hand and led him wordlessly into the bedroom. Within seconds, they had
stripped and were on the bed, their limbs entwined and their mouths making little sounds of
appreciation as they ground themselves together in violent foreplay. Stacy felt her hands running
over his body, marveling at his smooth skin, the taut muscles across his back and his shoulders as
he gripped her, holding her almost like a rag doll, moving her supple torso back and forth beneath
the dictates of his passion. Her fingers slid down to his buttocks, feeling again the hard muscles that
were moving, trying to push his rock-hard penis up between her thighs and into her hot, dripping
cavern that was so desirous of him now that she could feel her insides churning.
His mouth slid off hers and down to her breasts, taking them one at a time, sucking, biting, nibbling
her nipples until she cried out with agonized pleasure. Then she pushed his head away and scooted
down the bed, letting her head come to rest in his crotch. Her hands enclosed his penis, guiding the
wide, red head into her mouth, tasting the lube that was oozing out of his broad cockslit. Oh, God,
this was heaven, she thought; he is bigger than Saul and he even tastes better.
He swung himself around and she felt his mouth go down to her hot, pulsating mound. His fingers
entered her labia, pulling her open. Seconds later his mouth was on her flesh, his tongue flicking
back and forth across her clitoris, sending shivers of supreme ecstasy through her loins. Nothing
thrilled her more than to have a man suck on her; she loved it, just as she loved sucking a man's
organ, and the bigger the better. Alan was enormous; a lovely, smooth, throbbing pillar of sex that
she serviced from its head down to its hilt, taking it so far that her lips touched his balls. The tip of
her tongue licked around, feeling the hairs there, feeling the loose skin of his scrotum, and he
wriggled in appreciation, just as her own hips were rotating in rhythm to his tongue that was
pushing in and out, licking her folds of flesh, trying to push in as far as it could into her throbbing
vagina. Christ, his tongue felt as long as his cock. This was a man, baby, in every sense of the
word. This was the man she wanted, not just for now, but for tomorrow night and the night after
that. She wanted to spend twenty-four hours a day fucking with him.
Her hand slid under his sac and felt for his anus. Carefully she touched, pushed, and her finger
entered him. She began massaging him, reaching high for the prostate, knowing from experience
what effect this had. He groaned and she felt his penis flex and expand within her mouth from the
added titillation, the extra pressure and sensation that she induced. His moans became more
frequent, and then with a violence that shocked her he swung round, grabbed her and straddled her
body, his phallus descending rapidly, accurately, right into her moist canal, pushing all the way in
'til the end pressured her cervix and she cried out, her fingers in his back, "Fuck me, Alan, fuck me
good, Oh, Christ, I'm coming. I'm coming."
Her mind blazed beneath the onrush of her orgasm and she felt her juices flowing at the same time
as his sperm ejaculated into her, load after load, and his mouth upon hers was biting hard, almost
drawing blood, and she found herself as aroused, as violent, and their peak was higher than any she
had ever had before... not even with Saul, not even with Alan, not with anyone. It was almost as
though she had never orgasmed before, and her body shook, every nerve ending afire with delirious
sensation. The sweat poured down their bodies, and then, as quickly as he had mounted her, it was
over and he relaxed on top of her. She felt his penis slowly softening and she tried to hold it in her,
but it slid out, and he rolled off her, laying beside her on the bed, panting, and saying, over and
over, "Oh, Stacy, Stacy, I love you, baby. That was the best ever." Although she found herself
mouthing the same words about him, she still felt a flicker of resistance to the idea that he loved
her, that she said she loved him, when still it was Saul she was going to marry. Or was she? Was it
Saul she really wanted? "Let's fuck all night," she said, turning to him, and chasing the specter of
doubt with the taste of his organ in her mouth once more, and the feel of his arms around her,
holding her close as his lips came down, licking her again, and pushing them both to a new and
even higher plane of ecstasy. They were still in each other's arms as the sky lightened behind the
drapes and they both realized that what she had said in passionate excitement had been the way it
was.
"How are we going to last today?" she whispered, feeling a delicious tiredness in every limb.
"Shut up and kiss me again," he said, and she did.


CHAPTER THREE

Stacy stood behind the counter, staring across at Alan, whose eyes met hers with burning intensity
and passionate warmth, reminding her of the incredible ecstasy they had brought to each other, and
with the slow build of tiredness in her limbs, she began doubting her entire situation with Saul. She
knew she would marry him. She had made that decision and there was no backing out now.
Or could she? She was really only rushing the marriage because she knew she was pregnant; so
why shouldn't it be Alan rather than Saul? What difference would it make as far as her having a
baby was concerned?
The main thing to consider was which one she really wanted to marry. Saul had satisfied her more
than fully before. He was everything she ever wanted in a man, so why should last night with Alan
make all that difference?
She had analyzed her feelings a hundred times since she arrived at work with a delicious glow in
her loins but an undeniable tiredness in her limbs; a feeling that grew and was still with her despite
a couple of pills that Alan had filched from the dispensary "to keep them both going." But apart
from a slight lightheadedness, she knew all she really wanted and needed was about eight hours,
alone in bed, asleep. She even thought that if Alan had suggested sex during their lunch hour, she
would have turned him down. She was completely satiated for the first time in her life; and it had
been Alan who had done it, not Saul. But then, hadn't there been mornings when she had felt the
same way with Saul? He was just as virile (maybe not so well-hung) and had a thousand tricks to
keep her sensations at their peak. She knew she still felt deeply for Saul, and probably always
would. But her nagging doubts kept telling her that it might be a mistake. She might marry Saul,
and every night, as he entered her, she would yearn for Alan, to feel his longer cock within her
vagina, pulsating within her moist canal and driving her to a peak of delight she had never known
before.
But then what about the money angle? Alan could not support her in the manner she wanted; Saul
had the money, the position and the ability. They would be very well-off; they would live in a nice
home, enjoy the finest things that money could buy. With Alan, she visualized an endless
procession of monthly bills, struggles to make ends meet; but then would their love together
compensate for this? Stacy knew herself well enough; it wouldn't work. It had to be Saul. But even
as she decided that (as she had many times already that day), her heart and body cried out for Alan.
It had to be Alan.
Impatiently, she turned away and stared out of the window at the passersby; the men and women of
Kennington, all so smug and secure in their dull little lives. She knew she wanted out of this scene,
and it was only Saul who could get her out, take her away to a large city where there would be
endless excitement, always something new and wonderful to do and a social life beyond the wildest
dreams of Kennington's population. But then it would mean sacrificing the man she really wanted.
Oh, Christ, why did Alan have to... She turned and stared across at him. "You're no good for me,"
she snapped out suddenly.
He grinned across at her. "I love you," he said softly.
Stacy felt her heart melt and all her doubts fled before his handsome face, his soft voice, his words,
and the ever-present memory of the night before. "You bastard," she said. "I'm so fucked up now I
don't know what to do."
"You're going to marry me," he whispered, after a quick glance in the direction of the dispensary
where Mr. Botts was rustling around.
Stacy shook her head. "Nope, not a chance," she said. "You can't give me what Saul can."
"So what?" he laughed. "What's it matter? We'll have each other." He appeared confident.
"Love doesn't pay bills," she replied, then further conversation ceased as two customers entered the
store.
At four o'clock Mr. Botts shuffled to the door and paused a moment.
"I'm going over to Mrs. Renner's for some coffee," he said, "I'll be back in a half hour."
"Okay, Mr. Botts," said Alan cheerfully, and, as the old man disappeared up the street, he walked
across to Stacy and put his arm around her.
She glared at him, afraid of anyone seeing them. "Quit that," she muttered. "Have you lost your
marbles?"
"Yes, I have," he said, bending down and kissing her quickly before she could pull away. "And I
want us to get married."
"I'm marrying Saul, you know that," she said, exasperated beyond endurance. "Now stop it. I'm
tired and I don't want to talk about it anymore. This has been one helluva day." She glared at him
and the sight of his earnest expression made her regret the harshness in her voice. "I'm sorry, Alan,
but I really don't know what I'm saying. It must be that pill you gave me.
He laughed. "It wasn't the pill I gave you, it was something else, and he wants more of you," he
replied, his voice low and sexy.
Stacy felt her groin quiver. "Oh, Christ," she said, her voice filled with the hopelessness of her
situation. "Please, Alan, leave me alone. Let me sort this out." She stared hard into his eyes. "I'm
marrying Saul. Can't you get that into your thick head? And it has nothing to do with the way I feel
about you."
"You don't mean that and you know it," he replied, his arm sliding around her waist again, sending
shivers up her spine and fresh warmth to her groin.
She pulled away and retreated to the end of the counter nearest the door, where she knew he
wouldn't dare follow her; it was too close to the public eye. "Alan, let me sort things out. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Try to understand."
"I understand perfectly. You want me in bed and Saul's money in the bank."
Stacy's eyes flashed at him angrily. "That's not true, and you know it."
"But it is true. And if you use your head, you can have both, you know."
She frowned. "I don't get you."
"Well, you marry Saul, then perhaps, after a while, he has an unfortunate accident, leaving you his
sole hair. After a respectable period of mourning, the rich young widow from Kennington takes
herself a new husband and they live happily ever after."
Stacy sucked her breath in, her heart pounding with alarm. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Oh, but I do. I work with prescriptions and it would be quite easy to... er... arrange something.
Think about it, doll."
Stacy shook her head involuntarily. "No, no, that's... that's..."
Alan's eyebrows lifted slightly and a broad grin spread across his face.
"Yes, it is, but sometimes it's the only way."
"No, you're talking foolishness. I wouldn't even think of anything so horrible."
"Maybe that's why I had to think of it for you. I want you, Stacy, and I don't care how I get you."
Stacy's chest rose and fell as she found herself breathing heavily, her heart still pounding, and her
mind seething with confusion. Maybe.... maybe that was the way out. Maybe. But then, what if they
were caught? What if...
"Alan, don't ever mention that again. Promise me."
"I never make promises."
"I hate you, I really do. Now I'll never sleep tonight."
"You'll sleep, doll, and when you wake up, you'll know everything's possible if you plan it right.
I've always figured it's just as easy to marry a rich broad as one who's broke on her ass, no matter
how pretty that ass might be. And you've got the sweetest ass I've ever stuck my tongue into, you
know that? I do love you, Stacy. Come on, don't be such a square." His voice grew insistent,
wheedling, coaxing beyond any resistance.
Stacy looked over at him, and shrugged her shoulders slowly. "You are a bastard," she whispered,
and turned away from him, conscious of his soft laughter and her own growing conviction that
perhaps this was the way out after all. She would have Alan and she would have more money than
she had ever dreamed of. She knew Saul was worth plenty; more than enough for her and Alan to
live on for the rest of their lives. No, no, it couldn't work; it mustn't. She loved Saul. She couldn't
allow anything like that to happen to him. Or could she?
She looked up gratefully as Mr. Botts shuffled back into the store, his face set in a grim expression.
"Well, well, even though there are no customers, there's plenty to do," he rasped. "Both of you."
"Sorry, Mr. Botts, I'm not feeling well today," Stacy replied almost automatically and felt a glow of
satisfaction as she saw Mr. Botts' expression of anger change to one of concern.
"Oh, you're not coming down with the flu, I hope," he said solicitously. "Maybe you'd better take
something home with you. Alan, fix Stacy one of my special formulas. You know the one. Number
107. I think it is in the file. That'll stop any bug she may have picked up." He went back into the
dispensary and began rummaging around among a pile of prescriptions.
Alan looked over at Stacy and grinned. "There's nothing that'll do you any good for what you
have," he murmured as he walked past her, "except a good fuck."
Stacy was about to fling a retort at him, but Mrs. Carruthers came marching in at that moment, and
the afternoon returned to its normal business routine, even though Stacy found herself in a turmoil
as Alan's suggestion raced evilly through her mind every second. Oh, Christ, why the hell did all
this happen? Why did she get herself pregnant in the first place? And why did she ask Alan to join
her and Saul in a three-way? Why did she ever become so terribly involved so terribly fast? Her
body still cried out for Saul and for Alan. She wanted them both and, in a strange perverse way, she
felt she loved them both. So what was she going to do?
By the time five o'clock arrived, Stacy felt she wanted nothing but to go away somewhere and sleep
for two weeks, forgetting her problems, forgetting the two men that had turned her life into an
insoluble situation, at least for the moment. It was with a grateful sigh that she saw Saul's
convertible pull up outside. She ran down to him and jumped in the car, leaning over to him and
kissing him quickly on the cheek, oblivious to what people might think.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you," she said. "I've missed you."
Saul's face lit up happily. "Well, that's more like it," he said, squeezing her leg. "What brought this
on?"
She smiled at him. "Just because," she said. "Now take me home. I'm bushed. I had one helluva day
and I just want to climb into bed."
"With me?"
"You know Mother's home tonight. Besides, even if she wasn't, I just want a night alone." She saw
his face fall. "Now don't look like that. I'm just very tired, that's all. Okay?"
"Okay. I'm sorta bushed myself. I've been in meetings all day. At least..." he grinned with
satisfaction, "things are looking good for that deal. It's going through, I think."
"Great. That means another million in the bank, huh?" She looked at him, delighted.
"Not quite, but it's a good start in that direction."
The car sped down the highway and Stacy felt herself relaxing. Her previous tension in the
drugstore faded without Alan's presence, without his overwhelming charisma, and his unsubtle
promptings of her sexuality. By the time the car pulled up outside her house, Stacy felt almost her
former self, confident, secure and not so confused. Not that she had made any decision; but she had
relinquished the problem for the moment.
"'Bye, hon. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, 'til tomorrow." Saul stared at her enigmatically. "I sometimes can't figure you out, Stacy.
You seem almost..." he bit his lip, searching for words, "pleased to be spending the night alone."
"I am." She giggled and leaned forward, kissing his nose. "Hell, doesn't my ol' twat deserve a rest?"
"You're too much," he replied. "Take care."
"I will. You, too."
She waved as he sped back down the road. She ran lightly up the steps on to the porch and banged
her way into the living room where her mother was seated, crocheting a lace doily. Stacy greeted
her perfunctorily and walked into the kitchen, sniffing. She saw several pots on the stove and
suddenly realized she was very hungry. A good dinner, then a bath and bed. What more could she
desire? Except... Alan, maybe.
Impatiently, she walked into her room and flopped on the bed. Alan's face came to her and she
found her hands touching her breasts, her passions suddenly peaking at the memory of his
lovemaking. Christ, couldn't she forget for a moment?
She knew she couldn't. He was the only man who had ever upset her emotional balance to such a
degree; not even Saul had done that, despite the fact that, until Alan, she considered Saul to be
everything she could ever hope for in a man.
Her hands squeezed her nipples harder, reminding her of Alan's teeth biting into her flesh, arousing
her rampant desires to limitless peaks of ecstasy. She felt the warm glow in her loins, and her canal
begin to ooze its enticing fluid, readying her for the ultimate delight of his entry. Christ, but she
wanted him, and she wanted him now. Impatiently she reached under her skirt, pulled her panties
down and plunged her fingers into her throbbing, hot flesh, feeling her clitoris, firm and sensitive to
her touch. The tip of her finger massaged it, then with two fingers, she nipped it, feeling the
lightning flash through her, and she moaned quietly as her hips began rotating around her fingers.
She closed her eyes, imagining Alan's body above her, his lips on hers, his penis thrusting into her,
in, out, slowly, twisting within her, his shaft rubbing against her clitoris and combining with the
deeper satisfactions. Her fingers squeezed, rubbed, and she wanted to push her whole hand into her,
reminding her of the massive thickness and incredible length of his rod as it violated her innermost
sanctity. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, and her entire body was tingling with her
approaching orgasm. Yes, it would be soon, she knew. She was too keyed up to wait. Her fingers
did their work, faster, faster, and her other hand went to her breasts, squeezing them violently the
way Alan did, and then with a paroxysm of ecstasy, she felt her in-sides contract, convulse, and she
bit her lip to stop herself from crying out the way she did when she came with Alan inside her. The
wetness engulfed her fingers and slowly she relaxed, snaking still from the suddenness and
sweetness of the feeling that flooded her senses. Oh, Alan... Alan... I do want you, I want you no
matter what... I want your beautiful body on top of me, your lips touching mine, your cock probing
deep into my vagina, giving me the greatest joy imaginable. Yes, it has to be Alan, no matter what.
Stacy's eyes opened as she realized what she was thinking. No matter what... so maybe she could
have Saul's money as well as Alan's body. Why not? Life wasn't for losers, and she knew now how
to win everything she desired... money and the man she wanted more than anyone she had ever
known. And if Alan could arrange a little accident, why not? What difference would it make as
long as they weren't found out?
Alan was smart. Mr. Botts had said that more than once. "Now there's a young man who'll go
places," she remembered his words shortly after Alan came to work at the drugstore, "Yes, sir, that
Alan'll make a name for himself in this world, once he settles down." And she was just the girl to
make him settle down, that Stacy knew only too well. They merged, like hands into custom-made
gloves, meant for each other. Just like his massive penis blended into her cavern like it was meant
to be. Yes, it was meant to be. Stacy and Alan. She could visualize them now, without any money
worries, traveling, having good times, having a home that neighbors would envy. Home...
Stacy sat up quickly, her mind suddenly recalling the unhappy fact that she was pregnant. Christ,
she'd almost forgotten with all the other thoughts crowding into her mind. Oh, so what? Alan would
think it was his. But then maybe he didn't want a child? And there was still the ghastly, frightening
possibility that the baby might be black. That would really fuck up the works. No, there was only
one solution; she had to get rid of the thing and the sooner the better. That would solve one
problem. One at a time, as her mother always said about everything. First things first. And after
that, they could take care of Saul, after she had married him for a while, of course. Jeez... this was
some program she was letting herself in for.
She straightened her dress, wiped her hand on a Kleenex from the box by the bed, and reached for a
cigarette. Vaguely, she heard her mother bustling around in the kitchen, getting dinner ready.
Maybe she had better call Alan and talk some more. But not tonight, he might be as tired as she
felt. She really was tired, desperately sleepy, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and rest
her body... that body which gave her so much pleasure and which got her into more scrapes... so
what?
She lay back again and, just as she felt consciousness slipping away, she heard her mother's voice
calling her for dinner. She shouted out she wasn't hungry, ignored her mother's angry comment, and
then slowly, quietly, and with infinite relief, she fell asleep, her body finally overcoming everything
in her mind as it insisted on rest. But even as she drifted off, she thought once more of Alan, and
the memory of his naked body, with its erect penis jutting out enticingly between his legs, gave her
a warm glow. It was the only true feeling she ever joyfully welcomed, awake or about to sleep; it
was the guiding sensation of her life. Nothing else mattered. Not even Saul, or how he might feel
about the way she was planning things.
The room was pitch dark and Stacy opened her eyes, conscious that something was tapping at the
window, insistently, but gently. Her heart beat a wild tattoo and she raised up from the bed,
switching on the lamp. The tapping ceased and she lay still, wondering for a moment whether she
had imagined it, then it rang through the room, more insistent, slightly louder. With a gasp of
annoyance, she went over to the window and carefully pulled back the drape. In the soft glow she
saw the outline of a figure and heard the urgent whisper of her name.
Carefully she raised the window. "Alan, what are you doing here?" she said softly but with a sleepy
anger in her voice.
"I had to see you, baby," he replied, his hand coming forward and pressing her arm through the
screen. "I just had to."
"What time is it?"
"Around one."
"You idiot. If Mother catches you, there'll be hell to pay."
He laughed softly. "I've been waiting here 'til her light went out. She's asleep. Come on, put some
clothes on and come out."
Stacy looked down at herself and realized that she was still fully dressed. "I..."
"Come on." His voice held all the urgency, all the passion that touched her inner core and made her
respond; she knew she had to go with him, no matter what the consequences. "I'll be right out," she
whispered. She lowered the window, replaced the drape, and went over to the dressing table,
hurriedly putting on some lipstick and smoothing a hand over her cheeks. She ran a comb through
her hair and quietly opened her bedroom door. From her mother's room came the sound of gentle
snoring. On tiptoe, she made her way through the house to the front door, slid back the bolt and,
with beating heart, opened the door and slipped out, quietly closing the door behind her. By the
time her hand had left the doorknob, Alan's strong arms were around her, pulling her roughly into
him, and automatically she responded, arching her back to push her breasts against his chest, her
hips against his. Their lips searched for each other, then clung, tongues intertwined, their passion
peaking at the very feel of each other once again. Breathlessly they broke apart, but not before
Stacy felt with a glow of excitement, the large bulge that had begun to press through his trousers
and into her groin.
"Christ, Stacy..."
"I know, I know. Me, too."
His hands began sliding down her body, coming to rest on her buttocks, kneading their soft
firmness, pulling her to him, up against his hardening sex that threatened to burst from his pants.
Stacy glowed as she felt it and she ran her hand down between them, gripping his shaft through the
material and squeezing it, rubbing it up and down and eliciting a groan of delight from his lips.
"Stop...I'll shoot in my pants."
She giggled. "Not while I'm around, you won't," she said, and with practiced ease, she grabbed his
zipper. A second later, her agile fingers had extracted his rod, which flopped out before her, jerking
with anticipation. She dropped to her knees and closed her lips around the end, sucking hard, letting
her tongue caress the folds of flesh, the hard head that was oozing lube in readiness for what they
both knew would happen.
"Stacy, f'Chrissake... not here."
She stared up at him in the semi-darkness.
"Why not? There's no one around. And I want it. Now. Here. Like this."
Roughly he pulled her to her feet.
"Well, I don't," he snapped. "I don't want my cock sucked on your front porch like it was the local
whorehouse and there was no room inside. I want you, Stacy, in my own bed, where we can make
love the way we really want it."
She stared at him, conscious even in the dim light that his eyes were burning with a new intensity.
Within her she felt a thrill that surpassed anything she had ever felt before with anyone; not with
Saul, not with any of the others; not even with Alan. This was something even better, more
satisfying.
"Okay, let's go," she murmured.
"That's more like it," he snapped, pushing his penis back into his pants and zipping himself up
quickly. "Come on. I promise I'll get you back in an hour or two."
"What time is it?"
"Around twelve."
Stacy frowned. "Mother sometimes gets up early. Around five. Promise you'll get me back by three.
Okay?"
"I'll promise anything to get you back in my bed," he said. "I want to have you naked next to me, to
suck those tits of yours, eat that pussy and shove my cock deep into that delicious little twat of
yours. Oh, Stacy, Christ, I've been so horny all night. I just had to come. I had to."
"You didn't sleep?"
He shook his head, and led her down toward his car, parked a distance away from the house. "I
tried, but it wouldn't work. I kept thinking of you and my cock stood up, throbbing like it never has
before. I almost jerked off, I was so hot. Then I figured, what the hell, I'd come out and get you. So
here I am."
She laughed softly, and squeezed his arm. "Well, I slept," she said, climbing into the car. "So I've
had plenty of rest. At least I feel I have." She leaned over and opened the door on the driver's side
for him. "And I'm always ready to fuck when it's you that's doing the fucking."
He slid in, closed the door gently, and took her in his arms, kissing her deeply and passionately
before letting her go. "I'll fuck you," he said grimly. "I don't think I'll let you rest for one second.
Did I ever tell you I can go twice without losing my hard?"
She giggled. "No, you never told me that."
"Okay, I'm gonna prove it."
With a soft roar, the engine caught, and they moved forward onto the road and back toward town.
The wind whipped through the window and blew Stacy's hair, adding to her exhilaration as she
snuggled next to Alan, her hand on his thigh, her fingers playing tantalizingly with the bulge
between his legs. She felt completely wide awake; her few hours sleep had chased the incredible
tiredness from her limbs. She was ready for action again and nothing could have pleased her more
than what had happened, despite the danger involved.
She knew that if her mother had awakened and discovered Alan there, there would have been a
dreadful scene. Her mother had always disapproved of her many boyfriends, thinking, rather
foolishly, that Stacy would go to the altar a virgin. And to have her daughter drive off after
midnight with a young man would be tantamount to disproving her illusions. But that moment,
Stacy did not care. She was to totally immersed in the thrill of having Alan next to her and the
promise of a few hours of frantic sex with him to follow.
None the less, at the back of her mind, she prayed that when she got home, her mother would not
be waiting up, that familiar angry look on her lined features, her mouth set in a determined line, and
that voice, demanding a believable explanation of where she had been and why. And Stacy knew
that for once, she would have no explanation to satisfy her mother. But she still did not care, and
her fears subsided beneath the thrill of Alan's rock-hard penis in her hand as he headed the car fast
and furious down the highway.
In her mind, it seemed only seconds before they were pulling up outside Alan's apartment and
tiptoeing carefully inside. Then, without speaking, they had both undressed and were in each other's
arms, clutching at each other's body and pressing together so hard that Stacy felt her breath forced
from her lungs just as Alan's penis forced itself between her thighs. He pushed her back and they
fell into the bed, still locked together. He broke apart and stared down at her face, flaming with
desire.
She grinned up at him and wriggled her hips, feeling his sex respond against her skin. "You are a
horny one," she whispered sexily, tracing a finger over his face.
"Shut up and fuck," he said teasingly, reaching down and guiding the thick, flat, oozing head of his
lance into her eager, willing and slick cavern. There was no tenderness in his movement; his need
was greater than his restraint.
As he plunged deep into her, she gasped, not only at the suddenness, but the strength of his thrust,
the thickness and rigidity of his organ, probing deep into her, the end touching the mouth of her
cervix and making her feel that she was impaled on the most monstrous rod in the world.
"Oh, wow," she whispered, "he feels good. More, more baby."
"You'll get him, every inch of him," he snapped, his hips beginning a steady humping, in, out,
twisting, until Stacy's vagina felt like it was on fire. Her clitoris was squeezed to unutterable ecstasy
by the pressure of his cock pushing against it. Her insides were contorting with the extreme
pleasure that she, subconsciously, had been desiring as she fell asleep several hours earlier.
His lips descended on her nipples, first one, then the other, his teeth closing around her hard little
nuts, biting hard until she cried out, partly with pain, partly with delicious desire, and his hands
pushed under her, grabbing her buttocks and pulling her even closer. His hand slid down to her
thighs and then, with a swift, muscular movement, he lifted her legs up in the air so that they were
leaning on his shoulders as his groin pushed even deeper into her, his penis entering all the way
until his balls slapped against her ass every time he drove home.
Stacy squealed with delight. It felt like his penis was about to thrust into her throat from the inside.
She had never felt such penetration, such massive thickness and length violating her, and she loved
every second of it. "More, more," she kept crying out.
His voice became throatier as he began cussing her, using the most unspeakable language as he
continued fucking, harder, faster, deeper, more violently. The bed rocked beneath their weight,
beneath the movement of his body on top of her, pushing her down as he lunged, his hard, red-hot
cock deep into her cunt.
Stacy began twisting her hips, blending her rhythm with his, supplementing his efforts and
increasing their mutual ecstasy. She heard him groaning, and from the flexing of his rod, she knew
he was not far from his orgasm. From her own reactions, she knew that her own vagina was about
to convulse beneath the first of her own; for she knew tonight there would be many orgasms before
they were through. With a tool like Alan's, and the feelings that dominated their consciousness, it
was going to be one helluva night of sex. The anticipation drove her senses even higher, her thrills
more consuming. She felt she was floating, suspended on the end of his cock, adrift in a sea of
incredible satisfaction and sexual desire.
The sweat poured down from their bodies, making their skin slick as oil, adding to the sensuous
feelings that cascaded over them each time their bodies blended closer, harder. Alan's tongue was
going wild over her breasts, licking, nibbling, biting. His hands held her body firmly in position
while his hips thrust his sex deeper into her, a growing movement of impatience, eager to complete
the act that was lifting them on to an incredible plateau of delight. Stacy felt her mind drifting,
imagining the sight of his penis in her... its bright blue veins distended along its glorious length,
almost popping from the white skin from the pressure of his passion... the broad, flat red head like
an overripe tomato, its wide cockslit oozing lube in readiness for the ultimate ejaculation of semen
into her deep, languorous folds of steaming flesh that were being squeezed to fantastic heights of
ecstasy by his frantic thrusting. Sex had never been like this before, not with him, not with anyone
before. She felt she had finally reached heaven.
"Oh, Alan, Alan," she breathed, the words wrenched from her in spasmodic gasps. "Let me have
him, baby. Fuck me, fuck me."
He grunted a reply and continued, faster, faster, pushing his rod in with such violence that Stacy
felt she might disintegrate beneath the weight, the passion, the size of him. From deep within her
vagina, she felt the first twinges of her approaching orgasm, and she dug her nails into his flesh,
tearing it in tiny weals as she convulsed and felt the final glow suffuse her loins. She cried out,
"Oh, yes, yes, I'm there. Alaaaaaan... I'm coming... I'm coming!"
She felt her insides awash with her juices and then the rod that was pushing her to her pinnacle of
joy seemed to flex, grow even thicker and he let out a long, drawn-out moan as she felt his seed
erupt within her canal, spurting forth its load of red-hot come that greased their union even more,
forced down and running out between her thighs, dripping down over her asshole as he continued
his humping while both their bodies tingled like never before. Gradually Stacy's senses dwindled
and she began to savor the wonderful afterglow; but Alan's virility was unbounded. She was
waiting for his penis to slacken, to soften and slide out, so they could lie together and caress each
other, but the firmness did not diminish. His movements slowed, but she felt the rod still thick,
throbbing and titillating within her.
He lifted his head and stared down at her, then he grinned. "I told you this was gonna be some
night," he muttered. "I'm gonna go again." He raised up, pulling his slick, shiny penis from her
crack, and allowed her body to drop to the bed. Then, with a quick movement, he rolled her over
before she could stop him and jammed himself against her buttocks, forcing his penis between her
cheeks, searching for her anus.
"Oh, Christ," she moaned. "Not that, not yet."
"You're goddamn mistaken, you cock-sucking whore," he said roughly. "You're gonna git it again,
right up your asshole."
Already lubricated by his juices, the end of his cock slid into her anus and she groaned as she felt
her spinchter spread open viciously and his length slide into her.
"Easy, easy," she cried out. "You'll split me.
"Not a chance," he snapped. "Just relax and enjoy it. I'm gonna come again."
His hands came around her body, seizing her breasts and kneading them again, his fingers sinking
into her orbs and sending renewed spasms of excitement through her. She felt his penis enter her,
and push its inexorable way deep into her intestines. His one hand slid over her sweat-streaked
stomach down to her bush and his fingers found her clitoris and began tweaking it, nipping its firm
little bud and sending added chills through her groin.
As his humping of her ass continued with renewed vigor, a quick thought flashed through her: This
man is insatiable; he'll go on fucking me all night without stopping. Oh, Christ, what a man! There
was no doubt in her mind at that moment; it had to be Alan, not Saul, not anyone else. This was the
man who could satisfy her for the rest of her life, satisfy her in every way.
He began moaning softly. "Yeah, baby, yeah, nip it as I push in. Yeah, that's it. More, more. Oh,
wow, Stacy, baby... make it feel good. Tighter, tighter."
She contracted her spinchter, now adjusted to his size, and with each thrust deep into her, she
squeezed, feeling his cock slide between her anus, its broad head flexing, its thickness throbbing
again with renewed passion. Her vagina quivered and she cried out as she felt another orgasm
approaching, crashing through her consciousness with mind-blasting ecstasy. She rotated her hips
and cried out.
His finger in her twat felt the onrush of her juices and he muttered, "Yeah, yeah, here I come
again."
She felt his body quiver and shake and his penis ejaculated once more into her, his come lubricating
his shaft even more. Then with a suddenness that shocked her, he was still, laying on top of her and
gasping for breath.
"Oh, Christ, it's never been like that," he breathed into her ear, nibbling it gently. "Oh, Stacy, that's
the best fuck I've ever had."
She glowed within, and her mind was soothed with an infinite tenderness; she was able to satisfy
him just as much as he satisfied her. Yes, Alan teas the one for her!
In a few seconds she felt his penis soften and slowly slip out of her. She rolled over into his arms
and they kissed, not with the violent passion that had preceded the moment, but with gentleness,
with love. Stacy broke away and sat up, staring down at him.
"Jeez, what a body you've got," she murmured, her hand running gently over his skin and down to
his crotch, touching his penis and fondling it softly. Almost automatically, she bent forward and
closed her lips around the shaft, tasting his come and the sweet-salty mixture of their juices that
clung to its length. She licked his balls, taking them in her mouth and rotating them before sliding
back up his shaft and licking around the head.
He watched her and grinned. "You never get enough, do you?"
She looked up at him. "Never, not when it's you, and not when it's something like this." She seized
his penis and waved it in the air, its glistening surface catching the light and making the red head
look even darker, more appealing. "I could eat this all night long," she said, her mouth closing
around it once more. "It's the best goddamn cock I've ever known."
He laughed. "I bet there've been a few."
She slapped his face gently and pouted. "And I bet you've had this thing up a few snatches in your
time, too, so what?"
"Okay, so we're even in experience. You wouldn't want some stupid teenager who doesn't know
what to do in bed, would you?"
"I've had some like that," Stacy laughed loudly. "There was one..." she giggled hysterically at the
memory, "he used to come into the store all the time, and after a few days I knew he was just
finding excuses to come in. There was something in the way he looked, maybe the way he filled his
pants. Anyway I met him one night and we went out. It was funny, real funny. I was the first girl
he'd ever had, but he'd obviously been playing with that thing of his. It was mighty big. Anyway, I
showed him the ropes and he sure was grateful for it. He shot off once before he even got it in, and
then the next time he made it and it was great. But like you say, it's a lot better when someone
knows what the hell he's doing. Like you." She leaned over and kissed him quickly.
"You are a little whore," he said teasingly. "Seducing teenagers." They both laughed. "Did he come
back for seconds?"
She nodded. "He wanted to, but that was about the time I got involved with Saul, so I told the kid I
didn't want to see him again. He got over it. At least he knows the score now. He's probably
fucking every girl in town now."
"Like you've been fucking every guy in town, huh?"
She glared at him, momentarily angered. "If I have, it's got nothing to do with you," she snapped,
and then her face softened. "But no more, baby. I've got what I want now." Her hand went down
and gripped his penis once more.
"There's nothing better'n this and I aim to hang on to it."
"You can hang on to that any time you want," he replied, relaxing back with his arms above his
head. "Go to it. He's ready for more action."
"Sex maniac."
"That makes two of us."
Her fingers caressed the hair around his penis and touched gently his sac, then around his shaft,
feeling the growing hardness. She squeezed it, feeling it quiver and grow beneath her touch.
"He's standing up again."
"Sure he is," he said softly. "Why don't you kiss him to show how much you care."
"I was about to."
Her lips enclosed the head and her tongue flicked back and forth across the cockslit, tasting the lube
that had begun oozing down his tube again. Around the end she sucked while her fingers squeezed
the shaft, played with his balls.
"Stick your finger up my ass," he said.
She pushed down between his buttocks, felt for his anus, and gently inserted a finger, feeling his
hardness within his body that matched the firm shaft that was swaying between his legs. She knew
from her experience how massaging inside the anus increased the sensations, and she plied her
finger inside to the shaft while her lips sucked hard on the firm flesh outside. He moaned and began
moving his hips, thrusting himself into her throat.
"Oh, yes, yes, baby," he breathed. "Suck him good."
He seized her, pulling her thighs to his face and sticking his tongue into her wet and warm crevice,
still tasting of his own seed, mingled with her juices. She shivered as she felt his tongue on her
clitoris, licking it, pushing into her flesh while his fingers kneaded her buttocks and caressed her.
His mouth slid around between her cheeks and began licking her anus, while his fingers continued
their playful touching of her snatch. She moaned with delight and appreciation as their bodies
glowed from the renewed assault on their senses.
For minutes they lay together, giving and taking pleasure from each other's ministrations, then Alan
pulled away and flopped his head back on the bed. "Oh, Jeez..."
She raised up and grinned down at him. "Okay. Time for a cigarette."
He nodded. "Yeah, let's."
She reached for the pack on the bedside table and lit two, passing one over to him. They lay
silently, smoking and enjoying the sight of each other's naked body.
"You're really a groove," he said after a while. "I can't ever let you go; you know that, don't you?"
"Uh-huh. Me, too. I want you, Alan, always."
"Then you'll arrange something?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean about Saul. You know, like we talked."
Stacy sat up and took a deep drag off her cigarette before replying.
"You mean... like an accident?"
"Yes. That way we can really ball it up the rest of our lives. With his money and me, you'll be all
set for life."
She pursed her lips. "You make it sound so goddamn cold-blooded."
"That's the way life is, Stacy. I know. I've knocked around a bit. It's not easy. Hell, I know I'm on to
a good thing in the pharmacy business, but that means twenty years before I'll be able to do the
things we want to do." He laughed and flicked his penis, which was laying soft across his leg. "By
that time, he'll be all worn out from waiting for you."
She grinned mechanically, and then her face became serious once more. "I don't know. I want you.
I want us to get married. You know that. But..." She shivered slightly despite the warm night. "I
don't think it's right to..."
"To take what you want in life?" he finished for her.
"Isn't there another way? I mean, we can get married, and then..." Her voice trailed off, and she
knew there was no other way, no alternative if she wanted the money to do the things she desired
and to marry Alan.
He laughed and reached for her, pulling her down and kissing her violently on the mouth. "Look,
it's not as bad as you think. I've got access to things at the pharmacy. It'll look like a heart attack.
Everyone knows how hard Saul works. They'll just say he's overdone it. And old Doc Hodson'll
sign the certificate and that will be that. He's a dumb old bastard, anyway. He won't suspect a
thing."
Stacy shook her head. "The doc ain't so dumb. And he knows more than you think."
"What do you mean?" he asked, seriously.
Stacy bit her lip, remembering the doc's words about her pregnancy and her intended marriage to
Saul. "Oh, it's just that I know him better'n you. Don't underestimate him."
"I'm not. But why would he think anything was the matter? People have heart attacks every day."
"Not people like Saul. He's as fit as a horse and twice as strong. And the doc knows it."
"Nevertheless, it won't look like anything but a heart attack. I know how this stuff works."
She sniffed suspiciously. "Sounds like you've had experience with it before."
He glared at her. "Now that wasn't a very clever thing to say. Of course I haven't. But I know about
the drugs I use at work. I know what they do, and what effect they have. I'm sure as hell not going
to stick my head in a noose, baby, just you remember that. This will be as safe as driving down
Main Street at midnight."
She reached over to the ashtray and stubbed her cigarette.
"Well, maybe. Let's not talk any more about it."
"It bothers you?"
She nodded. "Yeah, it bothers me." She shifted over so that their bodies touched again. She reached
for his penis. "This doesn't bother me, though. Put your cigarette out and let's fuck again."
He grinned at her. "You go ahead. I'll lay here and smoke while you get him ready for action. Let
those lips of yours do the talking...."
His voice trailed off in a slight sigh as she closed her mouth around his firming flesh and began
sucking. "Oh, wow, baby, you sure know how to suck cock, that's for sure."
He relaxed and let the familiar sensations flood his senses as Stacy's mouth and tongue worked
around his prick, sliding up and down as the length grew and the thickness swelled in her mouth
and she pushed her head down, feeling the head touch the back of her throat, feeling it pulsate and
jerk under her touch. Finally, his penis was rigid, rock hard, and he put his cigarette in the ashtray
and reached for her.
"Come here, tell you where I want it now," he said, maneuvering her around. She frowned.
"How?"
"Between your tits, baby, between those lovely big soft tits. Come, lay on your back."
They reversed positions and he straddled her stomach, placing his organ between her breasts.
Already slick from her saliva, it slid easily between them as he pushed them together, making a soft
passage. As it thrust forward, she opened her mouth and took the end between her lips. He sighed
with ecstasy.
"Yeah, yeah, that's the way I want it now."
He reached behind his body, inserting his fingers into her vagina, probing her flesh while he thrust
himself between her breasts.
Stacy opened her eyes wide and stared fascinatedly at the monstrous red head as it squeezed
between her breasts; it seemed even larger than life, being so close to her eyes, and she gloried in
the sight, in the feel of the tight skin as it slid into her mouth and was caressed by her willing and
talented tongue. She let her eyes stray up, taking in every inch of his incredibly muscular body,
stretching up, limitlessly, it seemed, his thighs on either side of her, his chest broadening out and
his arms, rippling with muscles, as they supported himself in position; his one arm, the one whose
hand was pushing into her snatch, knotted from the effort. The sight of his firm flesh only increased
her pleasure, both from the feel of his fingers in her and the sensation of his cock in and out of her
mouth, and pushing between her breasts, the hair on his legs touching her nipples and exciting them
into hard little nubs of quivering ecstasy.
"Good, huh?" he asked, grinning down at her, and she nodded. She did not have to tell him it was
good. The thrills that coursed through her body communicated to him, and they both shook with the
passionate feeling of sublime enjoyment. For a second she wished she could spend the rest of her
life in bed with Alan, enjoying his body, taking his prick in every way she could, doing nothing but
having sex with him every hour they could.
Her feelings sent a special tingle to her tongue, and she pressured his rod firmer and firmer until he
pushed it all the way in and held it there, while his hand manipulated her clitoris faster and faster.
She felt her own orgasm beginning, and she rotated her hips, as best she could with him on top of
her, but he got the message and he thrust his penis into her in quick little jerks as he felt his own
come begin its journey from his balls right up through his massive shaft and into her waiting and
eager mouth. He moaned as he felt himself shoot into her, and she thrilled at her own convulsion
which happened at the same time she tasted his sweet-salty sperm on her tongue. She gulped, but
held it, savoring it until his load had shot and her own orgasm had finished wrenching her insides.
Then she swallowed and he pulled out collapsing on the bed next to her, holding her close and
panting. "Oh, Stacy, Stacy, can it ever get any better? Jeez, baby, that was even better than the last
time. Every time gets better."
He mouthed incoherent murmurings of his feelings, and she found herself repeating over and over
that she loved him, she adored his cock, his body, being fucked by him, and that he was the only
man for her. Slowly their passions subsided and they lay silent, gently petting each other softly.
Then he sat up and stared at her with wonder.
"It's got to work," he muttered. "We've got to make it work. We've just got to be together, Stacy.
We belong together, you and me."
She grinned at him. "And Saul's money, too, huh? Let's not forget that."
He nodded. "Let's never forget that."
He rolled away and sat up, reaching for the cigarettes. He lit two, handed her one, and sat, one hand
caressing her breasts absentmindedly, while he smoked, his mind deep in thought.
Stacy took a deep drag off her cigarette, blew the smoke toward the ceiling, and wondered how it
was possible that, for all the years she had been having sex, no one had ever been able to make her
feel the way she did with Alan. She had had men before whose penises were almost as large as
Alan's, whose bodies thrilled her as much, or so she remembered—even Saul, who had everything
she wanted, before Alan. Why was it she felt so different now? Why was it only Alan who fulfilled
her every desire, her every sensual want?
She thought a moment about Saul, remembering his body and his large and heavily fore-skinned
penis that she used to worship with such delight. The memory of it still aroused her feeling, but not
the same way that Alan did. Was she just cock happy? Was it only the size of a man's organ that
made her feel this way? No, she knew it was more than that. It was the overall glow she
experienced with Alan, the desperate need within her to have his arms around her, his body blend
with her own, and that wonderful cock deep within her hot little cavern, bringing her satisfaction
like no one else. But still she had a glimmer of feeling for Saul, and she felt her conscience acting
up at the thought of what she and Alan had discussed.
She turned to him, speaking softly and uncertainly. "Alan, I've been thinking."
"Don't. It's dangerous."
"No, what we're planning is dangerous. I don't want us to do anything to harm Saul. Please. There's
another way."
"How? You tell me."
"Well, I can marry him and then, after a few months, file for divorce. I'll get a bundle from him in
settlement instead of alimony. I can talk him into that, I know."
Alan stared at her incredulously. Then he laughed coarsely. "You are out of your skull. With what
Saul knows about you, about you and me, and how you carry on, do you think for a minute he'd
give you a bundle? Shit, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself and you'll be out in the cold. Then we'll be
just where we are now. No, Stacy, you're full of shit if you think that's gonna work. It won't, not in
a million years."
"It will," she insisted, sitting up and drawing close to him, stressing her words with a gentle
squeeze on his arm, "I can make it work. Saul worships me. He'll do anything for me. I mean it.
Let's try it, please. I'd feel much better."
"There's only one way you'll feel better," Alan said bluntly. "That's with my cock up your cunt and
Saul's money in the bank. Come on, quit farting around like this."
"I'm not. I just..." her voice trailed off.
"You think it won't work?" he demanded. "I tell you it will. And no amount of talking from you
will convince Saul to part from you, especially giving you a hunk of bread. He's worked too hard to
make it. He's not gonna give it away just because you spread your legs for a few months for him."
Stacy bit her lip and thought a moment. Then inspiration hit; she smiled and played her trump card.
"He'll have to," she said triumphantly. "You see, I'll be carrying his child. I could make lots of
trouble for him if he gave me any static."
Alan stared at her. "What do you mean? Carrying his child?"
She smiled, but the smile faded beneath the intensity of his stare.
"Oh, so that's the way it is," he said grimly. "You're pregnant now."
She shrugged. "So what?"
He laughed loudly. "And whose is it? Saul's? Mine? Some other poor bastard who screwed you one
night?"
She slapped his face hard and then regretted it. She moved to him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean that," she cried. "But that wasn't nice."
"No," he snapped. "But the truth seldom is. How long've you been pregnant? And who knows
besides you?"
She lowered her eyes. "Long enough. And the doc knows. No one else."
"Oh, shit. You sure know how to screw up things, don't you?" Alan snapped, getting up and
prancing back and forth beside the bed. "Have you tried to get rid of it?"
She shook her head. "The doc thought maybe it was better not to, and with Saul and me getting
married, it'd be okay. No one would think anything of a seven or eight month 'premature' baby."
She flared for a second. "In any case, what do I care what they say?"
Alan stared at her quietly. "I'm wondering if you really know what caring is," he said. "All you
want is a cock, I'm beginning to think. And after a few months of mine, maybe you'll get tired of
me, and take on every guy who looks your way. Is that possible, maybe?"
"You bastard." Stacy's voice was dripping venom as she glared at him. "You filthy, no-good
bastard. You know that's not true. I love you, Alan. I've never loved anyone else like I do you.
Absolutely no one, ever."
"And you maybe said those same words to Saul a week ago," he snapped. He sat down and took her
hands. "Listen, baby. You're a little whore, and I know it, but I happen to love you, and I want you.
That's why I came tonight to get you. I was going out of my gourd, lying here thinking about you. I
have to have you. And I still want you, and believe me, we can have a ball just the two of us. So
why..."
She interrupted him, flinging herself into his arms, and crushing his mouth with her own.
Breathlessly they broke apart and Stacy's words came pouring out. "Alan, baby, please, I don't want
us to quarrel like this. I hate it. We only say things to hurt each other. I love you. I'll always love
you, every inch of you."
"But you're still pregnant."
"Just a little bit."
"Yeah, just a little bit pregnant." His voice had lost its anger, only pity and disgust remained. "I'd
say the first thing to do is get rid of the damn thing. There's no room in your life, in our lives, for a
kid. You know that."
She stared at him. "I've already told you. The doc thinks it isn't a good idea. Maybe I'm too far
gone, or something."
"Look, I've had a few chicks in my time who've pulled this routine. And I know. I can give you
something tomorrow that'll have you popping that little pest out in half a day."
She stared at him dubiously. "Is it safe?"
"As safe as taking a healthy crap."
"Well, maybe..."
"You'll get rid of it, and then you'll marry Saul, and then Saul will meet with an accident, and then
we'll get married, and then we'll fuck our way round the world for the rest of our lives. How's that
sound to you?"
He was smiling now, and his grin was infectious. Stacy found herself suddenly laughing
hysterically, going into his arms again, kissing him, and in a flash their differences evaporated
beneath the heat of their passion.
"How did we ever get so wound up?" she said softly, her fingers trailing sensuous patterns of
pleasure across his skin.
"Because you're a dizzy, fucked-up broad," he replied tenderly, "but you've got me now. And you're
gonna listen to me. You do like I say and it'll workout. Okay?"
"Okay."
They kissed again, and then Stacy pulled away and stared at the clock on the wall. She gave a little
gasp of horror.
"Jeez, lookit," she muttered, "I gotta get home. And fast."
"Okay, okay."
Hastily they dressed, kissed quickly at the door, then made their way quietly down to the car. Stacy
snuggled up to Alan as they drove back to her house, stopping a short distance away. She turned to
him in the darkness.
"'Til later."
"'Til later. Get some sleep now and quit worrying. It'll all work out, believe me."
"I believe you."
"Anything else?"
"And I love you."
"That's better. I love you, too, you horny little bitch. Every bit of you."
She reached between his legs and squeezed his flaccid penis. "I love him, too, every bit of him,"
she giggled. "I'll be kissing him soon again."
He reached down and quickly unzipped himself, taking out his penis. "You can kiss him good
night."
Without a murmur, Stacy bent down and closed her lips around his shaft, sucking gently, letting her
tongue caress the broad head, and rubbing the shaft with her teeth, feeling it respond. She lifted up
and kissed him on the lips. "That's all for now," she murmured. "Save him 'til next time."
"And when will that be?"
"Soon, soon, lover."
"It had better be."
She slid out, closed the door quietly behind her, and made her way softly to the house, letting
herself in on tiptoe.
Alan watched her figure, a soft blue in the darkness, and his hand caressed his penis for a moment
'til he put it back in his pants and zipped himself up. "Yeah, soon," he murmured to himself. "Little
bitch."
He put the car in gear and moved with gathering speed back to town and to his apartment. Minutes
later, stripped, he lay on his bed, his mind filled with the memory of their hours together, her soft
lips on his and her body blended with his own. He found himself becoming excited again and rolled
over, closing his eyes and falling quickly asleep.


CHAPTER FOUR

Stacy arrived at work, feeling not so much physically but mentally tired. She had evaded her
mother's pointed comments at breakfast that she looked "ragged" and brushed aside the whining
complaints about her nightlife. She knew her mother was asleep when she returned. She had heard
the thunderous snores echoing down the passage, but nonetheless, her mother insisted that she
heard Stacy "rummaging" around during the night. "No telling what goes on while I'm asleep like
every Christian woman should be," she had said, and Stacy sighed and gritted her teeth, knowing
that by the time she got home from work, the matter would be forgotten.
Alan was another matter, however. He greeted her with more than his usual warmth, and had it not
been for Mr. Botts' presence, Stacy knew Alan might have thrown discretion to the winds and
embraced her in the middle of the drugstore, oblivious to the prying eyes of passersby.
"I woke up thinking about you," he whispered as he passed behind her at the counter.
She smiled at him and said nothing. She was too preoccupied with her plans for the day. She had
decided to visit the doctor again and investigate the possibility of an abortion. She decided it would
be safer than try anything that Alan might give her from the dispensary.
The early-morning rush slackened around ten, and after Mr. Botts went out for coffee, Alan hurried
to her side, putting his hand gently on her arm. She shook it off and moved away.
"Come on, what's the matter?"
"Nothing. But for Chrissake, watch yourself. You'll have everyone in town knowing about us."
"All right, all right. I can't help it. I've been thinking of nothing else all morning but you and me.
Stacy, I've got something for you."
"What do you mean?"
"To take care of the baby."
She glared at him. "I'm going back to the doc. I think he knows more about that sort of thing than
you do."
"Okay." His face took on a steely expression and his eyes glinted angrily. "If that's the way you
feel."
"I do. And it's got nothing to do with the way I feel about you. I'm just being sensible, that's all."
He laughed sardonically. "That's the last thing I'd say you are, judging from the way you act," he
snapped, and he moved back to his side of the store. Stacy stared after him, wondering exactly how
she was able to feel such an attraction to this man, when there were times she almost felt afraid of
him. In fact, she knew she was afraid, especially after his suggestion of eliminating Saul from the
picture. Any man who would even suggest something like that, she reasoned, could be completely
ruthless, and this scared her. Much as she loved him, much as her body cried out for his embrace,
she knew that there was something dangerous about him. She looked over at him; the harshness in
his face had gone and he was staring at her tenderly.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but you've really got under my skin. I want you so much. It's murder
to wait."
She sniffed. "And even if you wait, it'll still be murder."
His eyes flashed for a second. "Call it what you will, it's just being sensible about something we
both want. Admit it. You did last night."
"Last night I was so mixed up I didn't know what was happening."
He laughed. "I know. Just wave a hard cock under your nose and you go bananas."
"You're really something this morning," she said cuttingly. "I'm glad I'm getting to know you. It'll
make a difference how I decide what to do." Her eyes flashed anger.
"You've already decided and you know it." He laughed softly. "It's me, Stacy, and no one else. I
know."
"You don't know shit from beans," she snapped, and knelt down behind the counter, cutting him
from her line of vision, and she began furiously rearranging some cosmetics. She was saved from
further argument with him by the entry of several customers. With a sigh of relief, she straightened
up and smiled and began serving them, while Alan turned and went back to the dispensary.
By noontime, she had regained her usual self-composure and when Saul's convertible honked
outside, she ran out the store with a broad smile, jumped in the car, and greeted him effusively.
"Where to?" he asked. "The drive-in?"
"Nope, I have to go to see the doc," she said. "You can drop me off there. I'll skip lunch today. I'm
not very hungry anyway."
Saul's eyes clouded with concern. "Anything wrong?"
"No," she lied. "Just something he wants to talk about. Female stuff." She laughed. "Nothing to
worry about."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
He looked at her a moment, then turned back to the road and the car moved forward in the direction
of the Professional Building. Stacy breathed deeply and stared at his profile. She realized what a
strong, handsome face he had. So what if he wasn't quite as well hung as Alan. He had something
more—a genuine strength. He was the type of man she should marry; how did she ever consider
marrying Alan? But then, in the same instant, the memory of Alan's body, his massive organ, his
incredible ability to satisfy her... it all came back and she bit her lip impatiently. Christ, how could
she ever arrive at a sensible solution to her dilemma?
She realized now, sitting next to him, that Saul was really a wonderful man, and she did love him.
But then Alan's image asserted itself and she felt drawn to him, not for quite the same reason, she
knew, but drawn so strongly she felt unable to resist. She knew that anytime Alan beckoned, she
would go to him; she wanted him in every way. Yet Saul's strength and character were something
Alan lacked, something she knew she needed more in the long run. If only she could marry them
both, she'd then have everything she wanted... money and two men to satisfy her own insatiable
urges for sensual gratification.
"Here you are."
She looked up and saw the broad facade of the building, and then, making sure no one on the
sidewalk was looking, she leaned over quickly and kissed Saul before slipping out of the car.
"See you at five?"
She nodded. "Five. And Mother's away tonight."
He grinned evilly. "Well, sounds like you've got something in mind."
"Don't I always? 'Bye, lover." She ran lightly into the doorway, waving her hand as he drove off
down the street. She made her way to the doctor's office, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw
she was the only patient. A few seconds later, Doc Hodson's friendly smile beamed through the
door of his consulting room.
"Come in, Stacy, come in."
"Thanks, Doc." She walked in and sat down in the deep armchair opposite his desk.
The old man eased his way round and reached for his pipe, settling himself contentedly in the
rocker which he had used for years. He smiled at her and pursed his lips in a knowing expression.
"Well, young woman?"
She shifted uneasily. "It's about the baby. I think I'd better get rid of it."
His face fell. "Well, now, like I told you before, that might be a problem."
"Everything's a problem," she said, a little of her self-confidence returning. "But problems can be
solved."
"Yes, some of them." He took a deep draw on his pipe, and the aromatic fumes drifted across the
desk. "You see, Stacy, a baby's not like a dishpan of water that can be thrown out when you're
ready. There's a time. And I have a sneaky feeling that perhaps it's a little late to take care of it. At
least, with proper safety, that is."
Her face paled. "I don't care. I can't have it. You told me Saul is sterile so there's no need to tell you
why I can't. He will never believe it's his."
The doctor grinned. "Oh, I don't know 'bout that. My thought is that he'll accept it as his, whether
he really believes it or not. No man likes to be considered sterile, though it does have some
advantages for the... er... swinger types. I'd say that Saul will be tickled pink. So why not leave
things as they are...?"
Stacy colored slightly. "Because... because, doc, what you've said might work if the baby is white."
Doc Hodson sat up and coughed awkward. "Oh, I see."
She looked away and bit her lip, her only and usual expression of inward frustration. "Don't look at
me like that," she pleaded. "He was a very nice man."
"I'm sure. He'd have to be to talk you into something like that, wouldn't he now?" There was a faint
tinge of sarcasm in his voice. "All right, Stacy, I'll level with you. I know you inside out, and I
believe you'd be endangering your health and possibly your future ability to have children, if you
attempted to get rid of this one. If you're uncertain about its color, then I suggest you postpone your
marriage and go away somewhere, have the baby, and then come back. It'll be a lot safer and cause
far less heartache, take it from me."
She shook her head. "No. I've decided. That's why I came to see you today. I want to get rid of it.
And if you won't," she paused a moment, then continued, "then I have someone else who will." His
eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "But I'd rather you did it for me, naturally," she added
quickly.
The doctor stared at her a moment, puffing his pipe furiously. He shook his head and then stood up,
pacing back and forth behind the desk, glancing occasionally at Stacy, who was following his
movements with suspicious eyes.
"You young people sure get yourselves into some scrapes," he said after a moment, "and then you
expect old codgers like me to set things right again."
"But, Doc, you've always taken care of me."
"Yup. I have at that. But this is something I don't care to do. Oh, I won't deny I've done it before
with others and you happen to know that. Most people do, though for sure I'd deny it if a cop
walked in here. But I realize that often it is necessary for all concerned. But that doesn't alter the
fact that with you I don't think it'd be wise. Believe me, Stacy. I'm only thinking of your own good
and your own health."
She pouted. "I can't see why. I'm very healthy. Everything's fine down there. At least, it always has
been. You've examined me enough times. So why not?"
Impatiently he sat down and sighed, looking at her with serious, unwavering eyes. "Because I know
all about a woman's insides, Stacy. It's my job and has been for longer than you've been screwing
around this town. Much longer. And something tells me. Not this time. Not you. Do like I say. Go
away, have the child, and then come back and pick up with Saul. He's an understanding sort of guy.
He's not going to run off and marry some other girl just because you're gone for a few months."
"That's not it. I won't be able to convince him why I have to go away."
The doctor broke into a loud laugh. "Come now, Stacy. With your experience with men, don't tell
me you can't wrap Saul round your little finger. You'll be able to convince him all right, take it
from me. I think that guy'd jump off this building if you told him to. He's nuts about you. He'll wait.
Believe me."
His voice died away and the room echoed to the hum of the noontime traffic outside. Stacy shifted
in her chair and reached in her purse for a cigarette. The scraping of the match sounded unnaturally
loud. She took a deep drag and stared out of the window.
"Christ, I don't know what to do."
"Do what I advise, Stacy."
She shook her head. "Nope. I'm determined, Doc. If you won't have a crack at it, I'll just have to..."
Her voice trailed off and she stared away from him, afraid of his accusing eyes.
"I wouldn't try it."
She leaned forward. "But... but this person says it has worked before. It's something you take."
The doctor sucked in his breath and shook his head violently. "Stacy, you're fooling with something
you know nothing about. These so-called sure-fire potions are nothing but poison. They can do you
serious harm. Don't mess around with them, no matter who it is. I know about drugs and all that
stuff. It's my job. And don't you try sticking knitting needles into yourself, either. That's an old
wives' tale that has accounted for more deaths than I can remember. What's happening inside you
now is the miracle of life and it don't take much to have life turn into death... death for you, Stacy,
as well as the infant."
The earnestness of his expression and the vehemence of his words sank into Stacy's consciousness
and she winced. She knew he was probably right. But she hated to admit defeat in something she
had decided on. She stood up and walked over to the window. "Okay, you win," she said softly.
"But Christ, I don't know how I'm going to handle Saul."
"You'll think of something," said Doc Hodson, relieved that she had finally capitulated. He was
afraid she was going to insist and his professional experience as well as his nature cried out against
such a procedure. He had only performed abortions a few times and then only in extreme cases. He
was well aware of the possible dangers and preferred the alternative solution to an unwanted
pregnancy.
"Listen, Stacy." He came forward and took her arm, turning her to face him steadily as he spoke. "If
Saul really loves you, my bet is he'll understand if you tell him the truth. After all, he's not going to
stop loving you just because of a mistake. Do you realize how many marriages survive worse crises
than this? Love rises above such things, believe me. And if you tell Saul what has happened, I'm
sure he'll go along with you. My advice is to tell him the whole story. Also..." his eyes twinkled
impishly, "if he does call it quits, at least you'll know he wouldn't have lasted very long after you
were married."
She nodded slowly. The wisdom of his words impressed her and she knew he was right.
"Yup. As always, the doc knows best."
They both laughed and Stacy moved to the door.
"Thanks, Doc. I'll be seeing you."
"Think nothing of it, Stacy. But before you leave, I want you to promise you won't try messing
around with anything."
"I promise."
"That's my girl."
She left the room and Doc Hodson sighed sadly, then settled back behind his desk. Such a lovely
young woman, he thought; how do they get themselves into such predicaments? And why can't they
control themselves or take precautions? He saw so much of the results of indiscretion in his work,
but still when it came to someone like Stacy, he somehow felt it was all wrong. So very wrong.
Especially as she said the baby might be black. He shuddered, not because of his aversion to
interracial sex, but only the results. And he knew how the people of Kennington would react to
such news.
Stacy headed back to work, grabbing a sandwich en route and eating it hurriedly as she walked. Her
mind was teeming with the doctor's words; she knew his suggestion was the best one. But how to
tell Saul? He was riding a cloud, looking forward to their marriage in the next few days, to settling
down with her. This would certainly put a damper on things, she knew. And she prayed that he
would not let his violent temper get the better of him. She had seen him angry, really angry, only
once before. She shuddered at the memory. No, she would have to be careful in choosing the right
moment. She would have to play her cards extremely well to achieve the desired result. And she
hoped he would go along with her decision. There was no other way out.
That afternoon she avoided every possible chance of speaking with Alan. He kept staring at her,
making suggestions with his looks, but she merely smiled and continued with her work. Finally
when Mr. Botts left them alone for a few minutes, he came over and tried to talk, but she cut him
off abruptly.
"What's gotten into you?" he demanded. "There's no need to act like I've got the clap or
something."
- She giggled. "Sorry, Alan. I just don't want to discuss us, that's all." She gave him a disarming
smile and saw the anger melt from his face. "We can talk later, when we're alone."
He nodded. "That's better. But when will that be?"
"I don't know. I'm seeing Saul tonight. I have, to, baby. We'll make it again soon, I promise."
"Okay."
He moved away as a customer entered the store, but. Stacy could tell he was not altogether
satisfied. She went about serving the woman, but her mind was on Saul, on Alan, on her own
particular problem and how to solve it. She decided she would talk to Saul that night, after they had
had sex, when he was in one of his usual relaxed, attentive, and cooperative moods. At least, she
hoped he would be, and not be in one of his let's-fuck-all-night moods, when conversation was at a
minimum and physical action about all that occurred. No talk. No sentiment. No tenderness. Just
hard, unrelenting sex from him. In a way she looked forward to that side of his nature as well,
because she knew from experience that he was well able to satisfy her, though not with the depth
and incredible feeling that Alan did. But so be it. She still enjoyed and anticipated sex with Saul.
By the time five o'clock arrived, Stacy was almost eager to see him, more than ever before, because
she somehow felt this night would be a deciding one for her future. It wasn't the usual feeling in her
groin, the wild expectation of sensual pleasure that she usually had held when Saul picked her up; it
was more the glow of merely being with him, of sharing time and tenderness together. She thought,
Yes, almost like husband and wife must feel after the initial thrill of sex had diminished. Just the
feeling of wanting to be with someone, of seeing them and sitting next to them.
She ran down the sidewalk and jumped into his car, smiling happily. As they drove off, Saul
reached over and squeezed her knee.
"Well, you look mighty cheerful tonight."
She nodded. "I feel it. I feel very good, in fact."
"Good. I do, too. All set for a good evening of you-know-what?"
She pursed her lips and purposedly looked away. "I don't know what you mean, sir."
They both laughed.
"I mean I've got someone here who's been missing you." Saul's hand went down between his legs
and hefted his crotch slightly. Stacy could not resist staring down and noticing the bulge. "He
figures you'd better have something real good for him tonight. He's in one of those moods."
She sniffed. "Well, you can tell him not to be so goddamn impatient. Everything in its right time."
He continued feeling himself until the rough, rigid outline of his penis was plainly visible, pressing
against the cloth of his pants. Stacy kept staring, and within her, the tremor shook her body from
gut to groin, the feeling she always got when she saw a man's penis, when she thought about sex,
when she thought about Saul or Alan, and the times they enjoyed together in bed. Her canal became
oozy-moist with her juices, flowing automatically at the mental stimulation, at the very, thought of
what it was under those pants, that glorious organ that could do so much to peak her passion and
take her out of her world and into a realm of unutterable ecstasy. She turned away, breathing
heavily, conscious of her slow flush that indicated her rising tide of emotion.
Saul observed this, raised his hand from between his thighs, and laughed loudly. "You are so
predictable," he muttered tenderly. "I just love to get you all het up."
"Hot up, you mean," she snapped. "Jeez, Saul, you know what that does to me. I'm so horny now I
could come in my pants."
He laughed. "I almost did."
She stared at him, directly into his eyes, and they both laughed together, a happy, free sound that
broke the tension and put them back at ease again.
"Okay, all in good time," said Saul, and the car zoomed out of town toward Stacy's house. She took
a deep breath of air and felt her passions cool. It was going to be a good night with Saul, she knew;
it had to be. Things had to work out, they had to.
By the time they reached the house, Saul had lost his erection and Stacy's feelings were almost back
to normal. They climbed out of the car and made their way, arm in arm, through the door and into
the living room. She purposely did not turn to him for his usual embrace and passionate kiss, but
made her way to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and taking out two Cokes. She poured them
into glasses and carried them back, placing them on the coffee table in front of Saul, who was
leaning back, his eyes closed. He looked a little tired.
"You okay?" she asked, dropping next to him and taking his hand solicitously.
"Sure, sure, just a little bushed, that's all."
"You want to take a nap?"
He laughed. "Nope. I'm not that tired."
"Okay, let's just sit here for a while then and talk."
He stared at her curiously. "You sound like you've got something on your mind, Mrs. Kaplan," he
said softly.
She thrilled at his calling her that name. It made her feel that things were going the right way
already. He was in the right mood. She took his hand and kissed it gently, then she took her glass of
Coke and drank several big gulps. "Ah, that's better," she sighed, "I'm a little bushed myself
tonight. We had a real busy day at the store. I really had to hustle."
Saul chuckled. "How's Alan?"
"He's fine. Still trying like mad to make a date again. He's something else, really." She looked at
him straight in the eyes. "You like him, don't you, Saul?"
"Sure I like Alan,", he replied easily. "But I don't think there're going to be anymore three-ways
after we get married."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Just because. It's different when you're single. I don't think that sort of scene goes with marriage.
Besides..." he snuggled up to her and kissed her shoulder, "I want you all to myself."
"Selfish."
"Sure I am. Do you blame me?"
Stacy shifted slightly and he eased back away from her.
"Well, I guess not. But Alan is fun in bed, and that cock of his... oh, wow!"
Saul laughed loudly. "I can match him and you know it."
"Oh, shit, don't let's start talking about cock. I'll get horny and then we'll do nothing but fuck and I
want to talk."
The vehemence of her words startled Saul. He stared oddly at her. "You are in a mood tonight,
aren't you?" He leaned back into the cushions on the couch. "Okay, what's on your mind that's so
all-fired important?"
"You really want to hear now?"
"Sure I do. I'm not really in a mood to fuck this very minute." He laughed again. "But in a little
while..."
"Okay." Stacy took a deep breath and drew away, facing him across the couch. "What would you
say if I told you I'm pregnant?"
Saul's eyes opened barely a fraction and the smile on his face faded slightly.
"I'd say you'd been a little careless."
"That all?"
"What do you expect me to say? Hell, we've been screwing around long enough. Things like that do
happen."
She took another deep breath, and inwardly realized that he was taking it for granted that she felt he
was the father. He would never admit he was unable to become a father; so he was carrying through
with a gigantic bluff.
"It means that we may have to wait awhile before getting married, you know." She hesitated, then,
as he made no response, she continued, slightly less confidently. "I mean, I think I'll go away and
have the baby and then we can get married. How does that sound to you?"
"Goddamn stupid."
His words held a trace of anger and she recoiled. "What do you mean, stupid? Do you care that
little for me that you'd take me pregnant, not knowing who the father is?"
"Oh, I see. I had sorta figured you took it for granted I was." His eyes flashed momentarily. "I
guess it was some other lucky stud."
"Saul, don't be angry." She leaned to him, taking his arm, and her voice became almost pleading.
"You're the only one I love now, but there were others before. You knew that. Don't try and tell me
you didn't."
"Okay, so I knew. But I figured you'd be sensible enough to take precautions. Aren't you on the
pill?"
She nodded. "Yeah, but I guess I slipped one day. And that's all it takes. I only found out this week,
and I've been going out of my mind with worry. I don't want anything to spoil our marriage, believe
me, Saul."
"I believe you. So why not just get an abortion?"
"I went to the doc today. He says he doesn't think it would be safe. He suggests I go away and have
the kid, then come back. I said I didn't think you'd stand for that, and he said he thought you would.
So I thought I'd better have it out with you now, before things get too sticky."
"Before they get too obvious, you mean."
Saul sat up and reached for his Coke, taking a big sip before replying further. Stacy lit a cigarette
and puffed furiously, her mind teeming with doubt, anxious for his reaction.
"All I can say is, Stacy, I love you. I love you, pregnant or not, and this doesn't make any
difference. But I don't think you should go away and have the baby. Why not let's get married, and
you can have the kid, and we'll raise it like it was ours?"
Her eyes widened. "You'd do that?"
"Why not? I like kids."
The tone of his voice made her wince; he sounded so sad, so pitiful. She knew he must never find
out she was aware of his sterility. "I don't know. I don't think that'd be right," she said.
"It's no worse than what's happened; in fact, it's one way to put things right, isn't it?"
She didn't reply, but sat gloomily staring into the smoke from her cigarette.
"After all, don't tell me you aren't wanting a family?"
Suddenly Stacy realized she had an out; she had one course of action, one reasonable stand to take,
something that would clinch the matter once and for all.
"No, Saul," she said evenly and with terrible quietness, "I don't want a baby. I can't stand babies
and I'd go out of my mind if I had one around the house, taking me away from you, taking up all
my time, stinking up the bedroom and bathroom. Shit, Saul, I loathe babies."
The hate in her voice made him widen his eyes, and he shook his head sadly. "Oh, wow, the things
we find out," he murmured. "I'd never have said you would talk like this about kids. I love 'em,
dirty, stinking, however they come. I love 'em. I hope we have a dozen."
She shuddered. "Not from me you won't," she snapped. "I don't plan on having any. This one that's
in the oven now is a mistake and I'm torn to pieces over it already, without your saying you want
more. I'm not a baby machine, Saul. I'm a woman."
"And what else are women for?"
She sniffed sarcastically. "Women are to make love and be loved," she said, "as often as they
choose and with whom they choose. And I've chosen you, Saul. I don't want anything to come
between us, to take one moment away from what we can be doing together. And a baby will do
that. Don't you see?"
He stared at her uncomprehendingly. "What's happened, Stacy? I know you well enough by now.
This isn't you. You're trying to hide something. What is it, baby? Come on, level with me. You say
you're willing to go away and have the baby, but you won't stay here and have it in our home. It
doesn't make sense. It really doesn't. Come on, now, what's this all about?"
Stacy shook her head and lowered her eyes. Christ, it wasn't working out the way she hoped. She
had made one great big fuck-up of the conversation. He was beginning to get turned off, to turn
against her. She knew she had made a tactical error; she knew she had to win him back, to make
him agree to whatever she wanted. She coyly smiled at him and moved closer on the couch.
"I'm sorry if I sounded rotten," she murmured, her voice sticky with sentiment, "but, Saul, I love
you so much. I don't want anything to come between us, ever. Not this baby. Not any baby. And I
want us to get married free and clear. No hang-ups. That's why I want to go away and have the
baby, then forget it, and we can start with the slate clean."
He laughed dryly. "Your slate's never been clean, baby, and it never will be," he said. "You're a
little whore, and maybe that's why I love you. You're wild in bed and I dig that scene. It's the only
thing that really makes me tick. I love sex. And I love sex with someone like you who knows the
sky's the limit. But even so, I still have that side of me that wants a family like any other man."
"So you don't want me to go away and have it?"
He shook his head. "No, I want us to get married and we can raise it like it was ours. It makes no
difference to me who the father is."
She sucked her breath in and decided to go for broke. "Not even what color the baby might be?"
she said, surprised at her forthrightness, the steady, serious tone in her voice, so different to the
rather hysterical outburst of a moment earlier. She watched Saul closely and his expression barely
altered.
"I see," he murmured. "You do get around, don't you?"
"That doesn't answer my question."
"No, and that answer needs a little thought. At first impression, I'd say no, it doesn't matter what
color the baby is. I've nothing against Negroes, Chinese, whatever. We're all human beings in this
world. I think whoever planned it, kinda fucked up by making us different colors. One color would
have solved so many problems, especially those we are having today. But when two white people
marry and the baby turns out another color, well, that'd be just dandy, especially in a town like
Kennington. Just plain fucking dandy. I can hear them now, all those gossipy little tongues."
"Stop it!" Stacy almost shrieked the words out.
He relented, took her hand, and smiled at her tenderly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel worse
than you already do."
"So now you know why I want to go away and have the baby."
Saul was silent a moment, then he squeezed her hand firmly and smiled at her. "And if it turns out
to be white, then you'll bring it home and we can raise it? Like it's our own? Yes, please...?" His
voice suddenly held all the hunger of a man who wants a family and who knows he cannot produce
one. Stacy realized for a split second what torment he was going through. He didn't want to confess
his inadequacy; yet, at the same time, he wanted the chance to have a child that would be his in
name, even if not from his own seed. And she was able to do this for him.
"If it's white, maybe. If it's not, then we'll just forget about it and start from scratch again. Okay?"
He smiled and bent forward, kissing her gently. "Okay."
They laughed and he nodded his head.
"See how easy things are when you talk about them and sort them out properly?"
"I know. I know. That's why I wanted to discuss this tonight, now, before we got involved in our
usual..." she paused a moment and grinned seductively at him, "activities."
"Activities? Hell, that's a fine way to put it. You're seduced, fucked, satisfied by the one man in
your life, and you call it activity? Jeez, I've heard everything now."
She laughed gaily. "Well, I'd have called it fucking, but I figured I'd be refined. For a change."
"You couldn't be refined if you were granulated and came in a package."
She laughed loudly and leaned back against the couch, a feeling of inexpressible relief flooding her
consciousness. It was going to be all right; he wasn't causing a scene. He was going along with her.
Oh, wow, she could hardly believe it. Doc Hodson had been right. She had only to crook her little
finger and Saul would come running. He would do anything she wanted him to. She knew it now,
as certain as she was that she was going to marry him.
"So what about the wedding now?" said Saul abruptly.
She paused a moment. The wedding. Oh, yes, the wedding.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to postpone it. For about seven or eight months."
He snickered. "You could fall downstairs and then we could get married next week."
"I hadn't thought of that."
"Maybe you should try it." The grin left his face. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." He gripped her
tightly. "Oh, Stacy, I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you too much. Promise you'll be
careful."
"I will. I will. The doc's already told me that."
"Of course, we could still get married, and then you can still go away." His face brightened. "In
fact, I think that's the best solution. We'll be together, and when you start showing, you can go
away, have the baby, and I'll make some excuse, like you're visiting relatives in Florida or
someplace. Come on, baby, let's do it that way. Let's get married next week like we planned."
His face had become like a small boy's again; insouciant, eyes radiating his innermost joy, his
mouth open in a wide, happy grin, and Stacy's heart melted. Oh, Christ, she did love this man above
all else; he was the one for her. He would make her the husband she had always dreamed about. He
could satisfy her sexually and he could provide for her; he was everything she could desire. What
ever made her think of passing him by, just for someone with a larger cock? Hell, his organ was
more than enough; he had proved that many times in the past. And she knew he would prove it to
her again.
She leaned into him and their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss that drove all doubts from her mind
and all fears from his. It were as though they became one, one in mind and spirit, one in body,
blending their lips and tongues and feeling the surge of mutual desire flood their loins.
They broke apart and he stared into her eyes. "I said I wasn't in the mood to fuck before," he
murmured, "but I am now."
"Me, too," she whispered, "and let's make it a goodie this time. A real goodie. I've missed you. I've
wanted you. Oh, shit, Saul, I want you so much. And I feel so bad about this mess I'm in. I wish I
weren't such a little tramp sometimes, but when I see a hard cock, it does something to me, honest.
Like yours... now." She reached between his legs and felt the hardness there, pushing against his
trousers. "I can't help it. And that's how it was that night, at least, the night I think I copped it. He
had such a beaut."
"Shut up!"
His voice was strong without being angry, loud without being frightening.
Stacy cringed and her eyes widened.
"You see, I know you're like that," he continued in a softer tone. "And I don't care, because it
means when you and I are together, we really groove. I don't have to fight to get your pants down.
You're just as eager as I am. And that's the way I like it."
He kissed her again quickly, his hands reaching for her breasts and squeezing them.
"I don't care about that night. I only care about tonight and every night from now on. And when
we're married it's going to be every night, all night long, just as long as I've got the strength to fuck
you and you're willing to take it."
"I'm willing," she said breathlessly, marveling at the mood he was in, and the words that came
pouring out of his mouth. She had never heard him like this before, and she was rejoicing in it, her
mind and body responding like never before.
"And right now," he said with finality, "I'm ready and I want you. Now, right here on the couch."
"What about dinner?" she said, knowing it was a ridiculous question. She could no more have eaten
dinner than he could.
"You're my dinner," he said, "my lunch, my breakfast, my everything." His hands reached under
her dress and, with a savage jerk, she felt the cloth of her panties tear as his fingers wrenched them
down, then he dropped to his knees before her, pushing her skirt up and his head came forward, his
tongue licking her thighs, crawling sensuously up her skin until his mouth covered her vulva, and
her loins contracted with delicious anticipation as his tongue touched her clitoris and he began
sucking her flesh, tonguing her, nibbling, while his hands slid up to her breasts, taking them, one in
each hand, and squeezing them, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, sending added chills through
her as the little nuts grew to firmness, and her entire body was trembling with erotic desire.
"Yes, yes," she whispered. "Oh, Saul, eat me, eat me."
He raised up. "Okay, but get your goddamn things off. I think we may as well do it properly, even
if it is on the couch."
With a quick wriggle, she undid her blouse and bra and slid out of her skirt. In the same time it took
her to expose her voluptuous body, her breasts winging enticingly before her and her warm bush
wet with his saliva and her juices, Saul had dropped his pants, ripped off his shirt, and thrown his
shoes and sox across the room, then stood, penis jutting out menacingly between his thighs, a look
of wild eagerness on his handsome face.
He stared down at her and gasped, then fell once more on top of her, kissing her neck, and sliding
his tongue down her body, stopping briefly at each magnificent orb to titillate the nipples before
going on down to the hot cavern that was twitching between her legs. She lay back, her hands
caressing his hair as he continued sucking on her, his fingers pulling her labia wide open, exposing
the red-hot steaming flesh inside, her clitoris firm and pulsating from his ministrations. His tongue
licked and his teeth nibbled and excited her beyond reason.
She found herself staring down at his muscular body, each arm knotted from holding her, his back
rippling as he bent over her crotch, his legs firm as rocks, and his penis swaying like a fence post,
jerking, its foreskin pulled back from the wide, red head, which was oozing lube and dripping from
the end. His excitement matched her own, reaching a new peak as their mutual emotions pushed
them beyond any prior barrier, any former height of ecstasy. She found herself moaning and crying
out, completely overcome.
She felt completely wild and her body took control, sparking actions that had never been dreamed
of before. She thought of many things she wanted to do, but only after she had experienced her first
orgasm, which she knew was not far off. The way Saul's tongue was behaving, she had little chance
of holding off for long. Already her vagina was awash with juices oozing down to blend with his
saliva, and she knew the taste and the smell was lifting him out of himself, pushing him to greater
effort, more satisfying thrills. She hoped he wouldn't shoot off, as he had done once when he was
going down on her. She remembered the sight of that enormous rod, so erect it looked like a
balloon about to burst, its skin pulled back and the head broad, flat, jerking, jumping, and then his
seed shot out, load after load, and he had moaned and she had felt his tongue almost rigid within
her vagina.
It has been exciting, knowing she could push him to such a state of arousal; but she now she wanted
that cock in her when he came. She didn't care where or how... fucking, cunt or asshole, or sucking,
or between her tits, under her arm, any way, as long as she was on the receiving end when he
reached that final climactic moment. She felt the warm glow become red-hot fire in her groin and,
deep within her, her organs convulsed and she cried out rapturously. "Oh, Christ, I'm coming, I'm
coming, suck me, suck me good, you bastard!" His hands kneaded her tits harder, almost to hurting,
as his mouth pushed into her more firmly and his tongue became a second phallus that entered her,
probing, exciting, bringing her to the ultimate sensual feeling that was possible within her body.
"Oooooooh, oh," she gasped, and then relaxed, slowly, and she felt his grip slacken and his mouth
lifted gently off her. He stared up at her, seeing her eyes still closed, her body trembling with the
force of her coming.
"Good, huh?"
She opened her eyes and stared lovingly at him, noticing that his mouth was wet and shiny, and his
chin slick with saliva.
"Yeah, that was the greatest. Oh, Jeez, that was good!"
He stood up and she reached for his penis, rock hard in her fingers. "I'll do the same for you," she
said, sitting up and pushing her face into his hairy crotch, taking the end of his cock between her
lips and sucking hard while her fingers pulled the foreskin all the way back, making his shaft even
stiffer than it was before.
He moaned and stared down at her, working away with catlike concentration. As she sucked, her
fingers played with the hairs around his balls, pulling them down, pulling the sac away from his
body, stretching the skin and making the skin around his rod smooth as silk and hard as iron.
Gently she maneuvered one hand up between his buttocks and inserted a finger into his anus,
probing, feeling his shaft within his limbs, just as hard as it was outside in her mouth. She
massaged his prostate and he moaned, taking her head between his large hands and holding it
firmly against his organ, while he began grinding himself, humping her, fucking her face, sending
his rod deep into her throat with each thrust, and delighting in the subdued moans and gagging
sounds she made as she took it, every thick inch of it.
"Stacy..." he moaned, "harder, bite it, baby make me feel it."
She closed her teeth, not enough to injure him, but enough to increase the pressure on the firm
flesh, and she thrilled at the answering quiver in his body, the twitching in his penis, and the adding
thrust he put forward, driving the end deeply into her throat. But Stacy was well used to sucking
cock; she knew how to adjust her mouth, her throat, to prevent herself from gagging. She knew all
the tricks and she pulled out all the stops on Saul at that moment. Electric shocks permeated his
loins as he felt his seed begin its journey from his balls. He held her head more firmly, and his hips
became staccato in their drive.
Stacy knew what was happening; if she hadn't felt his response, she would have sensed it. It was the
age-old knowledge of that final moment and she was ready for it, for the gigantic discharge of
come that came spurting out of his broad cock slit and into her mouth, over her tongue, giving her
taste buds their desired, sweet-salty flavor of sex that made her clamp her throat even tighter, her
lips even firmer around his prick.
On and on he shot, and with each discharge he moaned, louder and louder, 'til he was drained, then
he stood back, his body dripping with sweat, his penis shiny from saliva and semen, and looked
down at her stroking her head gently. "That was something else," he said. "I thought my head was
going to burst. Oh, Stacy!" He knelt down, took her in his arms, and kissed her, tasting his own
come in her mouth, on her lips, as their tongues intertwined and their bodies met with passionate
force.
"Now let's get down to some solid fucking," he murmured, and grinned at her evilly. "That was just
the appetizer. Now comes the full course meal."
She giggled. "You're too much," she whispered, "and I love you, Saul. I love every bit of you, and
especially all this down here." She reached forward and took his penis, still semi-stiff in her hand
and began massaging it firmly.
He moaned. "Yes, yes, make him hard again," he said softly, and she laughed.
"He is," she replied.
"Not hard enough," he answered. "I want the biggest, super hard-on of my life right now, and I'm
gonna plunge it deep into that slippery, hot box of yours and give you something you'll remember
for the rest of your life."
"I don't need that to remember you by," she whispered, "And let's not talk about remembering. Let's
just talk about now. It's all that matters. It's all we have."
"Yeah. All we have is now."
Their lips met again in a rush as her fingers continued their soft pressure on his shaft, bringing it
once more to its full glory. He slid a hand down to her breasts and began playing with them,
running his fingertips over the soft flesh, around the wide, rosy nipples, touching the hard little
marbles and glowing inside from the pleasure of her form. Stacy's breasts were large, but not
pendulous; they were perfectly formed, jutting out when she stood up, not a particle drooping,
every inch standing out, an erotic symbol of her attraction, of her sex. She loved Saul to play with
her breasts, anytime, anywhere. She felt the answering twinge in her loins, the hotness flooding
through her from his every touch.
She always loved it when they just lay side by side, caressing each other, exciting each other's sex.
She particularly enjoyed the feel of his penis in her hand, the way it would grow to full erection
beneath her touch, the sensuous folds of his foreskin as she slid it back and forth up the thick,
throbbing shaft. She loved the sight of the head as it was exposed, all flat, red, oozing lube, and she
also loved the way it looked when the skin was over the end, fold upon fold of darkish, almost
tanned flesh contrasting with the white of the skin around the base of the shaft.
She had often lain between his legs, just playing with him and staring fascinatedly at the way his
rod was formed and the different ways it looked when she would pull the foreskin around, either all
the way forward, or just covering the head. In so many ways its appearance was never the same, his
foreskin being almost like the waves on the beach, always breaking in a different pattern and
always stimulating her senses as his emotions crashed over the shore of her innermost passions. His
balls had always been a source of her intense gratification, too; she loved to roll them in her fingers,
squeeze them ever so gently, and scrape her long, manicured nails through the long pubic hair
around them. He would shiver and sometimes groan with appreciation; she knew he liked that and
she adored doing it.
Any feel of his groin, his prick, his balls, his smooth skin where the hairs ended, the inside of his
thighs, firm and muscular, everything about his body was always, and always would be, her highest
thrill apart from the actual act when he plunged himself deep into her. Her eyes never tired of
taking in every corner and crevice of his physique.
Saul also liked to watch her body when she was attending to his physical needs. He loved the sight
of her face as she stared at his genitals, the childlike fascination in her eyes, the provocative twist of
her mouth, especially when she would bend down and kiss the end of his cock or take it fully
within her mouth and suck it quickly. He loved to see her fingers sliding their way slowly and with
care around his penis and balls, enjoying both the sight and the feel of her touch. He also stared and
always with wonder at her breasts, those round, firm orbs that spelled such ecstasy when he ran his
fingers over them or touched the tips with his tongue, bringing the wide, dark nipples to full
excitement and seeing her quiver and hear her moan and demand more, more, which he was always
eager to give, because in her pleasure he found his own.
He would often lay between her legs, pry her labia open and stare into her cavern, seeing the
glistening folds of flesh there, the hard nub of her clitoris which responded so magnificently to his
tongue or just his finger, and marvel at the incredible joy that her body could bring him when he
had his penis buried deep within her. The smell of her crotch would make him as rampant as a
stallion and he loved to bury his nose in her, absorbing every odor, experiencing every titillating
whiff of her passions that secreted down from the parts he would never see but only feel with his
shaft when their final moment of union took place. In his mind, he often saw himself, his large,
throbbing cock pushing between her, deeper and deeper, bringing such joy and ecstasy to them
both.
Despite the climactic nature of their final union, he still enjoyed the moment they were having now,
just laying beside each other, exploring their bodies with their hands, feeling in fingertips the love
that flowed between them, the limitless passions that were being prodded to their peak by slow,
gentle caresses. He felt his balls turning in their sac, the pressure inside his groin, the occasional
jerk of his penis as she touched that sensitive spot under the head, all preludes to the final crashing
crescendo of sex when reason fled his mind and he found himself suspended on the end of his cock,
buried within her, knowing that nothing could surpass this moment.
For all the women that Saul had slept with, no one but Stacy was able to satisfy all his peculiar
sensual needs; not just the moment of fucking, but all the play that went before, all the tender
lovemaking that fulfilled his deepest yearnings. Stacy was everything he had ever wanted in a
woman, physically. Her other shortcomings, her insatiable lust and her promiscuousness, he
managed to overlook because the moments when they were sharing each other's body were so
great, so fully enervating that it made it all worthwhile. He forgot her weaknesses under the
strength of her ability to satisfy him.
Saul was a very physical person. Ever since adolescence, he had taken care of his body, building it
up with exercise and hard work, and he was proud of his build, just as he was proud of his penis
and his virility, which he knew was exceptional. Too many women had vouchsafed his prowess in
bed; he knew he had something any woman would desire and he knew how to use it, how to make
the most of any sexual situation.
The restful moments, like this one, laying together and just caressing, were as much part of his
sexual scene as the more violent, when he would climb up and lower his rigid shaft between the
trembling legs and plunge it deep into the busy entrance to heaven and thrill as he heard her cry out,
gloat in the tightening of the vagina around his rod, and then start his steady humping, in, out, in,
out, gauging his release to coincide with or after hers. "You're awful quiet."
"I know," he said. "I was just thinking how beautiful you are and how well you play with my dick."
She giggled. "I'll never tire of that."
"I know. Neither will I."
"I think some night we should keep going and see how many times you can come before he won't
stand up again."
He laughed loudly. "He'll always stand up, even if he can't spit in your eyes any longer."
"You know for sure?"
"Uh-huh. Once, in college, I was on the football team, and one of our favorite pastimes was the
circle jerk. You know, everyone in a circle, cocks out, and away you go. The first one to come gets
the kitty. I used to win every time."
"But how does that show how long you can go?"
"Because I'd keep going, first one group, then another, and so on. One night I jerked off five times,
won the kitty every time, and was still ready for more, hard as a rock."
She gasped. "No wonder he's so big. You've done nothing but give him a workout since you were
born." She laughed softly. "I bet the day you popped into the world, you had a hard-on."
He grinned. "Maybe I did. I don't remember."
"You mean you don't remember every time you've ever had sex?"
"Of course not. And..." he added wickedly, patting her stomach, "neither do you, obviously."
She pouted. "That wasn't nice. I'd almost forgotten about that little bastard."
"Bastard is right."
"Okay, okay, don't spoil it now."
"Sorry. I couldn't resist." He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose and gave her one breast an
extra firm squeeze. She flinched and gasped, then buried her teeth in his shoulder in gentle reprisal.
She felt his penis flex and thicken even more in her hand as her teeth sank into his flesh.
"You like that, don't you?" she whispered.
He nodded. "Sometimes. You know that already, you little whore. How many times haven't you
bitten me while we were fucking?"
"Yeah. We both get pretty wild at times."
"Yeah, we do at that. But I love it. I hate a guy who just lays there, or just climbs on, sticks it in and
waits.... Hell, sex means action to me. Lots of action and lots of cock, like you have." She squeezed
his rod again, to feel it respond, thicken, and jerk within her hand. He sucked in his breath and felt
his passion rise to undeniable heights.
"I want you, Stacy," he muttered. "I want you again, now, hard and rough."
"I'm waiting," she said, leaning over and biting his arm once more, but this time she didn't hold
back on the pressure. He cried out and slapped her across the buttocks so hard he felt his fingers
sting. She gave a cry and glared up at him, a mixture of anger and perverse excitement. As he rolled
her over on her side, she swung into him and felt a glow as his rod pushed forcefully between her
thighs. Her hand guided it up and with a rush he entered her, thrusting the entire length into her
brutally. She cried out, and felt something inside of her seemingly snap and a sharp pain flooded
her. "Oh, Saul, wait."
"Wait, shit." His voice was demanding, insistent as his hips began their slow, relentless drive,
feeling the tightness around his rod, the incredible ecstasy flooding his loins.
"No, baby, please..."
The pain within her was almost unbearable. She flailed her arms helplessly, and, with an impatient
grunt, he grabbed her hands and held them down while he continued his slow, steady fucking of her
cunt. In, out, deeper, deeper.
"Saul, something's..." Her voice died away beneath the sharpness of the pain that chased all
pleasure from her senses.
"That's it," he muttered. "Oh, yes, tighter, tighter."
He had never felt such firmness enclosing his penis; it seemed to him that the violence of their
union had sparked a fresh constriction in her loins, making her grip his prick like never before,
giving him the most pleasurable feeling from the end of his cock down to his balls.
"But, Saul, I think..."
"Shut up and fuck!"
He pushed her over on her back and spread-eagled her, holding her arms on each side of her body,
using his knees to open her thighs even more, allowing him to wriggle himself deeper, insert his
penis even more into the soft, slippery, convulsing channel that was his crowning desire.
Stacy felt a sticky warmth within her, not the usual flood of her juices, but something more,
something unnatural; and the pain was increasing with every entry of his organ. She felt tears
bubble over and stream down her cheeks and she began whimpering.
"Oh, you really love it, don't you?" he snapped, staring at her. "Yeah, baby, cry. It's what you've
always wanted, a good hard, solid fuck that'll tear your insides out."
"But, Saul, I think something's wrong. Honest. Quit."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Next thing you'll tell me I'm too big. I've heard that before. Nothing too big
for that cunt of yours, you bitch. Fuck, baby, fuck!"
He was completely immersed in the sensations that coursed through his body, the wonderful
pleasure in his penis. She bucked beneath him, trying desperately to extricate herself from under his
body. But his weight was too much; his form too overpowering. He laughed.
"Yeah, push up, baby, that's it, push up as I push down! Make it good."
"Saul, Saul..."
"Yeah, I know. It's the best ever. Every time it gets better." He stared down at her, glorying in the
effect his sex was having upon her. This thrilled him as much as the conquest of her loins. With
every convulsion of her face, every grimace of pain, he felt his excitement increase, seeing in her
the result of his magnificent ability to satisfy. He had always liked to see how a woman reacted
when he entered her, his enormous tool probing her, proving his ability as a man, as a sex partner.
Stacy's tear-stained face and pain-wrenched mouth only supplemented the sensuous glow within
him. He drove his lance deeper, faster. He felt his seed begin to rise again. His hips pounded more,
quicker, tighter. His muscles knotted beneath the strain and then with a cry, he felt himself erupt
within her, shooting great gobs of sperm into her red-hot canal. "I'm there, I'm coming..." His voice
climbed to almost a shriek. "Oh, Christ, come, come... Stacy..." He plunged deep into her and held
it while his rod flexed and shot. Then slowly, he relaxed, and let his weight descend on her, feeling
the delicious softness of her breasts against his chest. "Oh, Stacy, Stacy..." He stared at her face.
Her eyes were closed. "Stacy..." She did not reply and then, with a muffled curse, he eased off her,
glaring at her. Gently he slapped her cheek, "Stacy... Stacy, baby, come on, quit fooling around."
Her face rolled to one side, and Saul felt a mounting sense of terror replace the ecstasy in his loins.
His penis was still buried within her vagina, although he was to the side. Carefully he pulled back,
withdrawing his softening tool from her. He glanced down and felt a chill of horror when he saw
his shaft, not clean, shiny and sticky with their juices, but dark with blood. Her crotch was covered
in the frightening mass, and the couch was already stained, a slowly widening pool of death, it
seemed, that seeped out of her steadily.
He felt his stomach turn, and before he could stop himself, he bent his head over the edge of the
couch and was violently sick.


CHAPTER FIVE

Saul paced up and down the corridor outside the room. His mouth was dry from too many
cigarettes, one after the other, as he waited for the doctor to emerge. He glanced at his watch for the
hundredth time, realizing with a futile sigh that less than an hour had passed sine he was herded out
with a perfunctory demand to stay away and let the doctor do what he could. The memory of the
high-speed ride into the hospital was still burning fresh in his mind, and the expression on Doc
Hodson's face was like a whiplash across his conscience.
"I want to be with her," he had said hoarsely.
The doc had given him a steely look. "I think you've done enough, Saul," he said gruffly, shutting
the door with a terrible finality, leaving the memory of Stacy's body on the bed, white as the sheet
that covered her. Saul found himself trembling with fear, wondering whether she was going to live
or die, or what would happen, and, above all, how this would affect their relationship.
He cursed his passions, knowing that her cries for him to stop had been genuine; that he had hurt
her; that when he'd lunged his massive organ into her with such speed and force he must have
dislodged something, put something out of joint. He did not know enough of the biology of women.
He only knew that what he had done had brought incredible pain and terror to the one he loved, the
one he least wanted to hurt.
He felt tears form in his eyes and he brushed them away impatiently. Time enough for tears later;
now he had to be strong, to hold himself ready for when he would be allowed in to see her again.
Then, he knew, she would want to see him strong, not weak; a pillar of security to lean on, not a
bawling man. Christ, how could he have been so vicious? How could he have been so selfishly
concentrating on his own sensual pleasure not to realize something was wrong when she continued
to cry out? Yet he remembered vaguely there had been many times during their lovemaking that
she had cried out and her face had contorted in what appeared to be pain... but was it? So how
could he really be blamed? Yet he blamed himself beyond endurance and his mind seethed with
remorse. He would make it up to her; he knew he would. He would make up for every second of
pain that she had gone through and was going through.
Wryly, he realized that the only consolation was the fact that the problem of her pregnancy was
over. Whether it would have been black or white, no one would know. And this could well be the
only consolation, though Saul, well aware of his own inability to produce a child, felt desolate. Like
every man, he had wanted a child of his own and now he knew this would be impossible unless
Stacy became pregnant again by someone else, and he balked at this idea. In fact, any thought along
those lines was now making him feel sick, disgusted, with himself, with the very idea of her lying
in another man's arms... another man who had the power to produce something Saul could not. He
crushed the cigarette beneath his shoe and stared, wide-eyed, at the door, wondering how much
longer it would be. Several nurses had come and gone, and one had carried in a tray of surgical
apparatus; this made his heart pound even more, wondering what was happening in there, what they
were doing to Stacy. He turned on his heel, found a chair halfway down the corridor, and plumped
himself into it, his head in his hands, his mind a turmoil of unresolved questions.
"Saul."
He looked up. Doc Hodson was standing outside the door, a grim expression on his lined face. Saul
jumped to his feet and hurried forward. "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"
The doctor nodded slowly. "She'll be all right, but barely. She had a bad time, Saul." He pursed his
lips and stared steadily at Saul. "She's lost a lot of blood, but I think she'll pull through. She is to
have complete rest. She is to see no one. Not even you."
Saul shook his head, frowning. "But... but..."
"Sorry, Saul. She's in no condition to see anyone, take it from me. In any case, I've given her a
sedative. She'll sleep 'til morning, and then we'll see how she is."
"And... the baby?"
The doctor smiled dryly. "There is no baby, not anymore. She had a miscarriage, but it was a bad
one." The doctor's face became grim once more. "What did you do to her, Saul?"
Saul bit his lip. "I... I... we were just..."
The doctor nodded. "I think I know. But remember next time, Saul, the reason we call it screwing.
You screw slowly to get it in, not hammer it in with one jab. And that hammer of yours is big
enough at the best of times without having you force it in like a battering ram. I know you're proud
of it, my boy, but a woman can sometimes only take so much. You just about wrenched her insides
out of whack. She'll be a long time recovering. And..." he added with a sly grin, "it'll be a while
before she can do it again, especially with you. She's torn half apart inside."
Saul felt the tears come, stream down his cheeks, and he gave a sob and turned away. The doctor
patted his shoulder.
"It's okay, Saul. It's okay. I'm sorry for what I said, but I had to."
"I'd... I'd cut the damn thing off if it'd help," he said, his voice trembling.
"No, I wouldn't do that," said the doctor. "After all, when she's well again, you can put it to good
use, provided you take it easy. Especially the first few times."
"Okay. I'll remember. Christ, will I remember! I'm wondering if I'll be able to do it with her again,
remembering what happened tonight."
"You will, you will, never fear."
Saul wiped his eyes and stared at the doctor, who was smiling now.
"Can't I just look in through the door?" he whispered, but the doctor shook his head.
"No, come back in the morning, say around ten. I think she'll be in shape then to say hello at least.
Go home and get some sleep."
Saul laughed hollowly. "Sleep. That's a laugh."
"You got a sleeping pill?"
Saul shook his head. "Nope. Never believed in those things."
The doctor took his arm and began walking him down the corridor. "Okay, I'll give you a few, and
you take a couple before you turn in. That's an order now; you've got to get your rest. There's
nothing to be gained by worrying."
"I suppose not."
They came to the end of the hall where a small window was marked with the sign "Prescriptions."
The doctor spoke to the clerk, and a moment later, handed Saul a small vial with several capsules.
"Take two, remember."
"I will. Good night, Doc, and thanks. Thanks a million."
"Good night, Saul."
Doc Hodson stood watching Saul walk slowly away, shoulders bent, head down. Poor bastard, Doc
thought, he's really had a scare, but he deserved it. That girl was in bad shape. Lucky she didn't kick
off. With a sigh, the doctor turned and walked back up the hallway. No sleep for him tonight, that
was for sure. Not after what he had been through. At least Saul had a couple of pills to help him
forget for the moment.
The next morning Saul awoke early and, after bathing and pulling on his clothes, went out for
breakfast. He ate well, finding himself extremely hungry; then he realized that he had eaten nothing
solid since lunchtime the day before. After finishing the meal, he felt better and checked his watch.
It was nine o'clock and he decided to go to the hospital and wait 'til he could see Stacy.
As he walked into the white-walled, sterile-smelling building, he saw Doc Hodson hurrying in by
the side door. He called out.
"Hey, hey, Doc." Saul walked over and joined him. "Too early to see her?"
"I'll let you know as soon as I can," replied the doctor, brushing past him and moving out of sight
through a swinging door. Saul sat down on a bench by the reception desk and picked up a
magazine. He thumbed listlessly through the pages, smoked a cigarette, and finally, after a half
hour, heard his name being called. He looked up and saw the receptionist smiling at him.
"The doctor says you can go in now," she said cheerfully, "you know where it is?"
He nodded and without replying walked quickly down the hallway until he came to the room
where, the night before, he had seen Stacy wheeled in. He knocked gently and heard the doctor's
voice bidding him enter. He opened the door and as it swung back, he saw Stacy lying in the bed,
looking very pale and wan, but with a smile on her face. He hurried forward and took her hand.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hello, hon." They stared at each other a moment, then he bent down and kissed her gently on the
forehead.
"I'm a mess," Stacy said, with a half-hearted attempt at a laugh, "but the doc says I'm gonna live."
Doc Hodson, who had been standing to one side, grinned and came forward, easing his rear end on
to the end of the bed. "I think she'll be ready to go home in a few days," he said. "And talking of
home, Stacy says her mother is due back today. I think you had better notify her where Stacy is,
and what's happened."
"But..." Saul hesitated, "but I don't think it would be wise to tell exactly what's happened, do you,
Stacy?"
"Of course not. Mother would have a shit fit. The doc's gonna cover for me. As far as Mother's
concerned, I had a bad fall and fractured my hip. That it, Doc?"
He nodded. "I think that will be logical enough," he said, and then he grinned wickedly at Saul. "If
she knew what you fell on, she might never get over it."
Saul's color rose and the doctor laughed loudly at his embarrassed response.
"At least you've got the grace to blush, Saul," he said good-naturedly.
"Oh, shut up," Saul said, looking the picture of embarrassment. Stacy giggled and squeezed his
hand.
"It's okay," she whispered. "In fact, I'm feeling fine. Just a little sore, that's all."
"Sure, and you'll be sore for quite a while," said the doctor. "Until you're quite better and get the
go-ahead from me, I don't want you two to do any messing around. Understand?"
"Don't worry, I won't," said Stacy. "Right now the last thing I feel like is sex."
"Which is something I never thought I'd hear you say," said Doc Hodson with a wicked grin. "Saul,
you're a lucky man. And I hope when Stacy's better, you can make an honest woman of her. It's
about time she was taken out of circulation."
He nodded. "We were planning to this week," he said soberly, "but now, I guess we'll have to wait."
"Yes, I think so," said the doctor, "because Stacy is not going to be able to fulfill her marital
obligations for some time. So there's really no sense, is there?"
Stacy pouted. "There are other reasons for getting married, you know," she said. "So I don't see any
reason to wait."
"Maybe so," said the doctor, patting her leg under the bedclothes, "but any woman will tell you her
marriage is something she wants to look back on with great joy. And that means the wedding night,
too. So take my advice and wait. When you're completely over this little complication, you'll both
feel happier. I'm sure Saul will be able to contain himself a few weeks. Or is that too much to ask,
Saul?"
Saul blushed again. "I'd swear off sex for as long as needs be, if it'd help Stacy," he said sincerely.
"Sure I can wait. And she has no choice."
Stacy giggled. "It's so sore there right now I can't stand peeing," she said wickedly, "let alone
anything else."
"Okay, then maybe we'll have a wedding in a few weeks," said Doc Hodson. "I hope I'll be
invited."
"Sure you will," said Stacy, squeezing his hand. "You're about the closest person to me in this
town, you know that?"
He smiled sadly. "Maybe it's because I've seen you through a lot of things that your pa might've
done, and which your ma can't. Is that it?"
"Something like that."
There was a sense of warm friendliness surrounding them, and Saul sat for a moment, just staring at
Stacy, and thanking God in his heart that she was going to be all right.
The doctor rose and made his way slowly to the door. "I'll leave you two alone for five minutes," he
said, "and then you must go, Saul. Stacy needs all the rest she can get and having you around is
only going to keep her blood pressure up." The door closed quietly behind him and Saul reached
over and gently kissed Stacy on the lips. "I love you," he whispered.
She grinned at him. "Me, too," she said. "I mean, oh, shit, you know what I mean."
They both laughed and sat still, staring at each other with wonder in their eyes. Stacy shifted in the
bed and winced. Then she smiled again and squeezed Saul's outstretched hand.
"It's okay," she said. "Just changing position."
"I'm so thankful you're all right," said Saul. "I never want to go through last night again."
"Me neither." Stacy's face clouded over. "Say, you know the only thing I've been worrying about
ever since I came to? The couch."
Saul shook his head. "You can quit worrying. I called one of my boys to go over and pick it up
before your mother gets home. I'll have it cleaned and back home again before she's there."
"Oh, good," Stacy sighed with relief. "That's about the last thing I remember thinking. I guess I
knew I was bleeding and in my mind I could picture the mess down there and I kept thinking what
the hell will Mother say? There'd be no way out of that."
"Unless..." Saul gave a sly, soft laugh, "you told her you were raped and had lost your cherry."
She burst into peals of laughter at the thought. "Oh, wow, that'd be something," she said, wiping her
eyes. "But even that would be too much for her to take. You know..." her face grew serious, "it's a
pity Ma's so hung-up on that old-time religion. She could be quite a nice person otherwise."
"Ain't nothing wrong with old-time religion," said Saul quietly, "'cept when someone gets carried
away."
"Yeah. That's been Ma's trouble all along. After Pa died, I guess she didn't look at another man and
then she got real wrapped up in the church. I think that's when she and I started drifting apart. She
says she cares for me, but I guess she just says it. I think she'd spend day and night in that church if
she could."
"Well, maybe she's happy."
"Maybe. I doubt it. If she were, she'd smile more often, and she'd laugh now and then. I haven't
seen her smile in years. And she's always bawling me out for one thing or another. Nothing I do is
right. Oh, well..." Stacy sighed, "I'll be out of there soon, with you, baby. Mrs. Kaplan. Oh, I love
the sound of that."
Saul bent forward and kissed her again. "And I love Mrs. Kaplan, period," he said.
The door opened and Doc Hodson stuck his head in. "Time's up," he said. "Out you go, young
man."
Saul leaned forward and Stacy put her arms around his neck. They kissed and he stepped back.
"See you soon," he whispered.
"Yeah, this afternoon," she said.
He turned and walked out, his heart light and his spirits lifted immeasurably. She was going to be
all right. He felt almost like singing as he walked quickly down the corridor and out of the hospital.
He climbed into his car and sped quickly back to his office.
Stacy looked up and saw the door open slowly; a moment later, Alan's face peered round, his
normally cheery, happy face clouded with concern.
"Hi," she said. "Come on in."
He entered, closed the door quietly behind him, and came over to the bed, staring down at her with
a frown. "What... what happened, Stacy?"
She laughed, then coughed. She had only just awakened. "What time is it?"
"Around three. I heard this morning that you were here, and I had to come. Mr. Botts would've
come too, but someone had to take care of the store, so he said to bring you his best wishes. He'll
try and see you this evening, maybe."
She smiled. "News travels fast."
"The doc called this morning and told him you wouldn't be in to work for a while. He said you'd
broken your hip."
"Good old doc."
"How did you do that?"
She raised her shoulders slightly. "How do we do lots of things? It happened. But I'm going to be
okay. No need to worry."
"But I do." He took her hand and she could see his face was grave. "I worry about you all the time,
Stacy. You're my life."
She laughed dryly. "Don't talk like that, Alan. We've had some fun. Let's let it go at that. Okay?"
He stared uncomprehendingly at her. "What do you mean? We're going to get married. How can
you say 'let it go'? I'll never let you go, Stacy. Never."
She sighed and shifted herself in the bed. At least she wasn't hurting so much today, she thought.
"Alan, when something like this happens, it makes one think. I've had lots of time to think, just
laying here, and I've given a lot of thought to you, to me, to Saul. There's only one man for me,
Alan, and it's not you. You know it can't be."
He interrupted her. "Stacy, you must be sick to talk like this. We had everything planned. Sure,
you're going to marry Saul, but then afterward..."
"Stop it, Alan!" Her voice grew loud and angry and the effort brought a twinge of pain to her groin.
"Oooooh." She closed her eyes and let her head rest back on the pillow.
"You all right?"
She nodded. "Yes, I guess I don't have much energy. Not for arguing, anyway. Please, Alan, let's
not talk about us. Let's forget all those things we discussed. It was horrible, anyway,' your talking
crazy about doing something to Saul. I couldn't let that happen. It wouldn't be right. No matter how
much I felt it might be at the time. Not anymore. I'm marrying Saul, and that's that. At least..." she
smiled, and squeezed his hand, "we've had some good times. Let's just remember those. I know I
will. Every time Saul and I make love, I'll think about you and..." she giggled, "that enormous,
beautiful cock of yours."
His face was steely. "Maybe I should cut it off and give it to you as a wedding present. Is that all I
mean to you... a big beautiful cock?"
"It's not all you mean to me, but it's what I'll remember most about you," she replied with perfect
candor. "But I need more than just fabulous sex. In any case, Saul does me quite well in that
department. And he does me well in every other department, too. So let's not argue about it, Alan.
Let's stay friends, please."
"Friends?" He spat the word out like it was something foul, something infinitely diseased. "What
kind of talk is this? A few days ago we're planning our lives, together and now you're talking about
staying friends... Jesus Christ, what a switch!"
"Yes, we were planning our lives together, but I must have been out of my skull to even let you talk
the way you did."
"And I must've been crazy to think you'd go along with me," he replied, "but I'm not giving you up,
Stacy. I want you. I've always wanted you. It wasn't so bad before I went to bed with you that night.
But once I had, I couldn't change my mind if my life depended on it. If Saul's in the way, he's going
to go, just the way we planned it. But I'm going to end up with you, whether you think so or not, so
get that into your beautiful, stupid head and realize you can't do anything about it."
She laughed cynically. "Oh, I can't do anything about it, can't I?" she snapped. "You can't hogtie me
and force me to the altar. If I were to tell Saul what you had in mind, he'd whip the shit out of you
and run you out of town."
Alan stood up. "I see it's no use talking with you any more," he said quietly, and his face was dark
with anger. "I'll leave. But when you're out of here, maybe you'll come back to your senses again. I
mean it, Stacy. I'm going to have you, no matter what."
He moved to the door, and she hesitated a moment, then called to him. "Alan, please... don't be that
way."
He turned and there was no tenderness in his glance.
"I am that way," he snapped, "and that's the way you like me, I know. So don't think you can get
out of it. You're mine, Stacy. We were meant for each other. We're both rotten, but we belong
together."
"Speak for yourself," she snapped. "Now leave me alone before I call for the nurse."
He left the room, slamming the door behind him. Stacy turned her face into the pillow. Tears were
close to coming, but she held them back, knowing it was no use giving way to senseless emotion.
Alan was overwrought and she was in no condition to concern herself with his threats. After all,
they were nothing but threats, weren't they? Even though he spoke very seriously about it, she felt
he wouldn't have the courage to go through with such a terrible scheme as he had mentioned, no
matter how much he might want to have her. And she knew she could never agree to it, not
anymore. She loved Saul and she was going to marry him and stay with him. He was everything
she needed in a man, a lover, a husband.
Stacy's eyes widened and she gasped to herself. Why not get married right away, now, even though
she was in the hospital? That would dash Alan's hopes once and for all and she would have Saul;
she would be Mrs. Kaplan. The more she thought about it, the more she became excited, thrilled at
the prospect.
By the time the door opened again and Saul's cheerful face popped in, she was wildly excited. She
put her arms out and he came to her eagerly, kissing her on the lips and hugging her to him.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you," she breathed.
"Me, too. You look great today."
"I feel wonderful, I really do. And I've decided something."
He sat down on the bed and reached for his cigarettes. "What?"
"I want us to get married now."
He frowned, then broke into a wide grin. "Now? You mean as soon as you're out?"
"No, no. Now. Here. We can get married in this room. Why not?"
He shook his head slowly. "You're a sweetheart and I love you very much, but I don't think that'd
be a good idea. I want our wedding to be something we can remember happily. I don't think getting
married here will have many happy memories for us. I want us to forget this hospital room, forget
this horrible thing that happened to you. Let's wait, Stacy. It'll be best, take it from me."
She shook her head. "No, the sooner the better. Please."
He paused a moment, and lit the cigarette he had been holding while he talked to her.
"What made you suddenly want this?"
She was silent and he knew she was holding something back.
"Come on, tell me, Stacy. I want to know. No secrets now."
She stared at him a moment, her heart pounding.
"Well, if you must know, Alan was here."
"So, what's he got to do with us?"
"He wants to marry me, and he's very certain that he will. He says he's the guy for me, not you."
Saul laughed contemptuously. "Oh, Christ, that stud! What do you think about it?"
"I told him I was marrying you and that was that, and he got very ugly and said he'd make sure I
didn't marry you, and that he was going to be the one. He was real nasty, Saul. He scared me."
Saul frowned. "What do you mean, he scared you? The guy must be nuts if he thinks he can
threaten a girl into marriage."
Stacy paused a second, then went on. "He... he said that he'd do something to stop us. I mean,
well..." Her voice trailed off.
Saul took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Look, baby, that guy's got no right to come in here and
upset you when you're sick. I'll bust him wide open. And making threats because you decide we're
going to get married, that's even worse. Maybe he's sick in the head! I'm going to have a talk with
him."
Stacy gasped. "No, please, Saul. Don't. I don't want any trouble. That's why I want us to get married
here, now. If we do, that'll put an end to him. He'll know there's no hope then. But as long as we're
single, he'll think of something to do to stop us. I know. He's... he's real scary, Saul. I don't want
him doing anything to hurt you."
Saul laughed again. "Hurt me? What could he do?"
"He..." Stacy drew a deep breath, "he said he'd kill you if needs be. And the way he said it, Saul."
She found the tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks. "I can't stand it, Saul. I don't want
anything to spoil it anymore. Please... please let's get married right away. That's the only way to
stop him, I know."
"If he said that, marrying you won't stop him from killing me," said Saul grimly. "It might even
make it all the more reason. He is sick, Stacy. Wow, you never know, do you?" He put his arms
around her and held her, patting her back comfortingly until the shower of sorrow had passed. She
wiped her eyes and lay back on the bed, sniffing.
"So what are you going to do?" she asked faintly.
"I'm going home to think about it," he replied. "But in the meantime, I don't want you worrying
your little head about idle threats. He's crazy about you, that's obvious, but he can't do anything to
you in here. And I can certainly take care of myself. So just let's calm down, huh?"
She blew her nose on a Kleenex and tried to smile. "Okay. I'm sorry if I upset you. But I was real
scared, Saul. I still am. Alan's a big guy, just as big as you."
"That doesn't cut any ice with me. I've handled bigger guys than him before."
"Okay. But at least you know now. Be careful." She paused a moment. "So you don't want to get
married here, then? You want to wait 'til I'm better?" she asked anxiously.
He sighed. "I'd rather wait, honey. It's no fun exchanging vows in a hospital room. Don't tell me
you'd rather not have a decent wedding, with all the trimmings?"
"Sure I would. But I thought..."
"Okay, quit thinking." His voice was sharp. "Let me do that for both of us, okay?"
"All right, Saul," she said meekly.
She looked up at him and smiled, more like her old, salacious smile that used to provoke him to
violent excitement.
"You know, it's going to be difficult for you, doing without me for a few weeks."
"Don't rub it in."
"Well, the doc said no sex, but I'm sure there's nothing wrong with a little blow job, provided you
take it easy."
He stared at her and a wide grin split his face. "You are too much," he breathed. "You've just come
back almost from death and you still feel that way. Oh, Stacy, sometimes I wonder about you."
She pouted. "I'm only hurting down there," she said, "but my mouth's fine and I'd sure like to taste
him again. Come on, Saul, lock the door and I'll blow you real fast. It'll be better than jerking off,
won't it?"
She reached out and was able to touch his hips, letting her fingers slide round to touch his crotch,
gripping his shaft, and feeling it respond with growing firmness in her hand. He stood still,
savoring the feeling, conscious of a wickedly delicious glow stealing through his loins.
"Go on, lock the door," she whispered. "I want him, Saul."
Knowing the foolishness of his actions, Saul turned, and with a quick movement, slid back the
small bolt beneath the door handle and moved to the side of the bed next to Stacy's head. He
unzipped himself quickly and Stacy sighed with delight as she saw his penis, half hard, flop out.
She reached over and began massaging it. He stood, looking down at her, a slow smile on his face.
"You sure love that cock, don't you?"
"Hm. When he's as big and firm as this, I'll do anything for him."
She felt the shaft thicken and the length protrude more and more until he was fully erect, the broad
red head pushing through the folds of foreskin. Already lube had begun to ooze from his cockslit.
"Move closer, darling."
He did so, pushing the end of his penis into her willing and open mouth, feeling again the soft
sensuous touch of her tongue around the end. She began sucking while her fingers pulled the shaft,
adding to his pleasure. She flicked the end of her tongue across his cockslit and around the head,
concentrating on the sensitive spot under the head, bringing moans of delight from his lips.
"You keep that up and I'll be coming real soon," he said.
She pulled back and giggled. "Maybe that's just as well. Better you come soon than one of the
nurses."
"Go to it, then."
Saul felt a wild excitement in his loins. The very idea of her fellating him in the hospital room,
where any moment someone may come banging at the door, added to his excitement. He felt his
penis throb beneath the pressure of her lips, and he started pushing his hips, gently humping his
cock in and out of her mouth. "Oh, yes, yes," he breathed. "Harder, Stacy, harder, baby."
She clamped her mouth and teeth around his shaft, biting just enough to send added chills through
him without injuring the silky smooth skin that was stretched almost to bursting around his prick.
Her fingers grabbed the large sac beneath and began playing with his balls, rotating them, pulling
on them to ease the foreskin back off the head, to give added firmness to the rod as it was pushed in
and out of her mouth, growing harder every second, jerking with anticipation and delight as Saul
felt his body responding to her talented tongue.
Stacy felt her own body glowing with delight and, despite the numbing pain still in her vagina, she
began experiencing the age-old satisfaction from servicing the man she loved. Although she knew
she would not experience orgasm herself, the pleasure of sucking his cock was more than enough to
abate her feelings of desire. She pressured his rod in her mouth, pulling her lips over her teeth,
making a firmer, tighter passage where he continued to thrust his organ. He began moaning and his
hands came forward, gripping her head, maneuvering it back and forth gently to add to the
movement around his rock-hard phallus.
She knew from their past encounters that he was very close to orgasm, and sucked quicker, running
her tongue around the shaft as it came in, plunging over her lips and into her throat. Saul felt the
beads of sweat burst out on his forehead, and his legs began to ache with a delicious tiredness. He
was standing in a most awkward position, but he didn't care. The pleasure that flooded his senses
by far compensated for any discomfort over the unusual stand. Then suddenly, he felt the surge of
his seed and his fingers automatically gripped her head harder.
"Ooooh, Stacy, I'm there," he cried out, and a moment later she tasted the great gobs of come as
they shot from his tool into her mouth, load after load of salty-sweet lovejuice, spilling from his sex
into her, on and on, until, with a gasp, he pulled back and out of her, sitting quickly on the bed, his
penis dangling in front of him. "Oh, wow, oh, wow," he breathed. "Oh, Stacy, that was wonderful."
She reached for a Kleenex and wiped her mouth, then relaxed back in the pillow, a contented smile
on her face. "It was good," she said softly, "Like it always is. Oh, Saul, you've got the best cock of
all." He stared at her with a knowing smile. "Better than Alan?" She nodded. "Sure, better, much
better. I dig all that skin around yours, even though he's a little bigger." He leaned forward and
kissed her. "What's a half inch between friends?" he murmured and they both laughed softly.
He adjusted himself back in his pants, zipped up and then carefully unbolted the door. "We made
it," he said, and they both laughed again, like two conspirators after a successful escapade.
She stared up at him, marveling for the hundredth time at his handsome face, his firm, muscular
body and his undeniable appeal to her senses.
"You're the only one I really love, Saul," she whispered. "I may get the hots for someone, but
believe me, it's you that's got my heart."
"I know. I know."
"You going now?"
He nodded. "I'd better. You have to get your rest, especially after that little workout. We shouldn't
have, really, but when you look at me that way, and I get horny, there's not much I can do."
"I love you."
"Love you, too, doll. See you tomorrow."
"Okay. Oh, Saul, I haven't told Mother about our getting married yet, but I will tonight. The doc
said he was picking her up and bringing her tonight."
"Hope the old girl doesn't have a fit."
"I don't care if she does. I doubt whether it will matter to her really, except for the fact that I'm
getting married at last."
"Well, don't let her bother you."
"I don't. I never have, really. She's tried, but it hasn't worked out. I guess we're too different."
"I'm glad we're not."
She laughed. "Hell, no, never. 'Bye now, lover."
"'Bye."
Stacy lay back and smiled contentedly to herself as the door closed behind him. She snuggled down
into the bed and licked her lips, the taste of his sex still in her mouth. It was a taste that thrilled her,
satisfied her beyond anything else, and she had no regrets about having talked him into sex. He'd
wanted it as much as she did, and she felt better now than she had all day. Funny how a nice hard
cock will perk one up, she thought. And Saul does have the best one. Better than Alan. Alan. She
frowned as she thought once more of his angry face, his threats, his tone of voice as he left her
earlier that day. She hoped it was all idle talk, and that he wouldn't try anything with Saul. Or with
her.
Her mind drifted to their happier moments together, and she glowed once more inside as she
remembered his body, his sex, his lovemaking. Despite her feelings for Saul (of which she was now
certain), there would always be a glow whenever she thought of Alan and his magnificent organ.
But even the memory was tinged with a certain fear as she realized that Alan scared her with his
talk, and she prayed that he would not pursue the matter.
She was marrying Saul, and that was that. She would be Mrs. Saul Kaplan, a happily married, well-
off wife with nothing but happiness ahead. She would forget the past, forget all those other men she
had gone with. Gradually she felt sleep stealing over her, and within minutes her eyes were closed
and her body relaxed into a deep, dreamless void.


CHAPTER SIX

Saul left the hospital and walked to his car. His body was still tingling from the exquisite sensations
she had produced by her attentions; a warm glow pervaded his consciousness and he knew, more
than ever before, that Stacy was the only girl in the world for him. Promiscuous as she might have
been, and was by nature, her ability in bed and her voluptuousness added up to what he desired
most in a woman. And having endured the ordeal of her miscarriage together, he felt they were
bound closer even than by sex; that eventually, the deeper, closer union would grow and endure
between them. The frantic urge for sex would unfold into a relaxed, completely satisfying blend of
their emotional needs that would surpass the transitory passions of the body.
Saul felt a little concerned over Alan, however. He knew how much the man appealed to Stacy's
sensual side, and, while he felt certain of coping with her attraction to Alan, he was curious over
Alan's obsession with her. If Stacy had been threatened with something harmful if she married,
Alan would still have to carry out his threat. And Saul wondered what he had in mind; whether it
was an idle passionate outburst stemming from jealousy, or something more positive that came
from Alan's brooding... something violent that would help him achieve the goal of having Stacy all
to himself.
As he drove back to his apartment, Saul contemplated what Alan could possibly have in mind. He
had shared Stacy with him one night. They had both enjoyed her and established a closeness that
only came from mutual sexual enjoyment. If Stacy had told him there would be no more
threesomes, this might have sparked the jealousy which, fanned by her decision to marry, erupted
into a desire for violence. Suddenly Saul realized that the only way out of the situation was to
confront Alan, to have it out with him and settle the matter once and for all.
He turned his car and headed toward Alan's apartment, pulling up outside with a slight scream of
tires. He looked up and saw the lights were on. With a grim smile, Saul climbed out, went to the
door and rang the bell. He heard the noise of footsteps, and then, as the door swung open, he saw
Alan's form, clad only in trousers. His face was unsmiling.
"What do you want?"
Saul smiled. "I just dropped in to have a talk, Alan," he said in his friendliest voice.
Alan stared at him suspiciously, then his face relaxed, and he stepped back. "Come in, then," he
said. "You want a drink?"
"Sure, I'll take a drink," said Saul, walking in and closing the door behind him. He stared around,
aghast at the disarray of clothes and magazines that were littered around the room. It was obvious
Alan needed someone around to clean up after him.
Alan had walked over to the small bar-hatch that separated the living room from the kitchen. There
was a bottle of bourbon and some glasses there.
"Bourbon okay?"
"Sure. Anything."
Saul turned his back and looked around. He heard Alan uncork the bottle with a soft snap, and then
he heard the gurgle of the liquor as it flowed into the glasses.
"Sit down, make yourself at home," said Alan. "The place is a mess, but then, that's the way I am."
Saul laughed and plumped himself in a chair after lifting off the papers there. "Looks like a typical
bachelor flat," he remarked. "I'm not that much better myself."
Alan brought the glasses over, gave one to Saul, and then settled himself on the couch opposite,
eyeing Saul directly.
"What's on your mind, or need I ask?"
"Well, I felt it best to have a talk about Stacy," began Saul. "She's pretty upset over something you
said to her."
"Oh? What did I say to her?"
"She wouldn't tell me, but she intimated that you threatened all sorts of things if she and I got
married."
"Now that's real interesting," said Alan smoothly. "I don't recall anything like that. Maybe she's just
imagining things."
"I don't think so. She was real het up. She wants us to get married right away, in the hospital, just to
settle things."
Alan grinned. "She sure is anxious. Is she afraid of me or of herself? You know she digs me.
"I know." Saul's voice was level, serious, but not angry. "I know Stacy pretty well. You've got just
what it takes to turn her on, especially as you've been to bed with her. Maybe that was a mistake.
But if it was, it can't be helped."
"Like I said, she's afraid of herself," said Alan. "She knows goddamn well that no matter how much
you fuck her, she'll still want to get in my pants." He laughed dryly. "Maybe we should both marry
her, then everyone'll be happy."
Saul chuckled. "Yeah, a permanent threesome. But I guess that really won't work because I happen
to love Stacy. When I marry her, it's going to be for keeps. No more sharing. Just her and me."
"Thanks for reminding me."
"Don't say it like that, Alan. All's fair in love and war, and may the best man win." Saul tried not to
sound patronizing, but his voice betrayed his concern. "Stacy loves me and I love her very much
and..."
"And," Alan broke in heatedly, "I also love her. And she wants me, I know she does. You don't
blame me for trying, do you?"
"Hell, no." Saul took a big swallow and finished his drink. He licked his lips and set the glass back
on the small table beside the chair. "But I want to settle this matter about you threatening her if we
do get married."
Alan laughed. "I didn't threaten her. I just told her I'd kill you, that was all."
Saul stared at the man sitting opposite him; the handsome face was calm, completely self-
possessed, and his voice held a tinge of sincerity that belied the words.
"You... you said you'd kill me? Now where would that get you, except a one-way ticket to the
chair?"
Alan shook his head. "No, sir, not the way I could do it. I'm a pharmacist's assistant, remember.
And I know my job pretty well. There are lots of things I can get which'll put your away for good
and never cause a hint of suspicion." He grinned. "Notice anything peculiar about that drink I gave
you?"
Saul's eyes strayed, startled, to his empty glass. "No. Just bourbon."
"All right, you can relax. It was just bourbon. But if I'd a mind to, I could've put something in it that
you'd never taste, and by the time you got home, you'd be a dead man, Saul Kaplan. I might still do
it, too."
Saul shook his head slowly. "You're crazy, man, plumb crazy. There's nothing that'll do that.
Besides, no one's going to believe I just keeled over and died."
"You're old enough to have a heart attack, man, and everyone knows how hard you've been
working. And that old dum-dum doc's just the sort of guy to say it. Can't you hear him now? 'Yeah,
Saul worked too hard. Too bad. Too bad.' And he signs the death certificate and then I move in.
Happily ever after. The end. How's that sound to you?"
Saul laughed shortly. "I like you, Alan. I always have. Don't make me change my mind."
"I don't give a flying fuck whether you like me or not. It's Stacy's affection I'm concerned about.
And I know she loves me, too."
Saul sighed. "You know, hearing you talk like this makes me thankful I'm ten years older than you.
Jeez, I wonder if I was so stupid when I was your age."
Alan flushed, and said nothing.
"Yes, I remember," Saul continued, his voice rising with contemptuous anger. "I'd been fucking
broads for some time, and I thought that's all there was to it. Get a hard-on every five minutes and
grab me a piece of pussy. Oh, wow, there wasn't another thing on my mind. I met one chick. Name
of Sally, I think. Oh, we were balling two and three times a day. I thought the world would come to
an end if she and I weren't married. I asked her to, but she said no. Thank God she did. In two
months I was so sick and tired of her that when she finally left town, I was never so thankful for
anything in my life. I'd been running myself ragged trying to think up ways to end it with her,
because, you see, I'd fallen for another one. And the same thing happened.
"There were dozens, and you'll have dozens before you settle down, take it from me. Especially
with that piece of meat you have. You want as many chicks to lay it on you, just to get the
satisfaction of spreading it around and hearing them say how great it is, and how you're the only
one who can satisfy them. Hell, man, I went through all that, and it ain't a bit different. You'n me,
we're built about the same, give or take a half inch. So I know. I know all the angles, Alan, and I
think I know yours. Number one, you talk big, like your cock, but when the chips are down, you
don't have the guts to squash a bug. You'd be shit-scared to even try it. Oh, sure, you talk about it,
because it sounds real big to someone like Stacy who scares easy. But you don't scare me, buster,
and if you've got a lick of sense, you'll forget the whole stinking mess. Forget Stacy, forget me, and
go get yourself laid someplace else. In other words, fuck off and leave me and Stacy alone. And if
you love her as much as you say you do, you'll let her have this chance at being happy. I can make
her happy. All you can do is give her a good night in bed, and that's about all. Am I right?"
Alan had been watching him intently all through his long and heated talk, a slow smile on his
handsome face a smile that slowly faded as Saul's tone rose and the wisdom of his words hit home.
Alan stood up and took their glasses back to the bar to refill them. The room was very still as he
poured the liquor, turned, and walked back, handing Saul his glass and then settling back in his
chair again.
"Well, haven't you got a thing to say?"
Alan lifted his glass and nodded his head across the top. "To you and Stacy," he said quietly. "I
guess you're right, Saul. You make me feel like a kid, and I don't like that, not one bit. But I guess I
can't help it. I guess none of us can help the way we feel when we're hung upon someone,
especially a chick like Stacy. She's the first one in my life that's been able to ball me the way I
like."
"I know. She's great in bed. She's a little whore, really, but then, so what? I'd rather marry a broad
who knows what she's doing than some little half-assed virgin who screams when you put your
cock up her snatch. And with the size cock you'n me have, it's no fun if the snatch can't take it all.
Stacy can. And above all, Stacy digs me and I dig her. We love each other very much," he added
with his voice dropping slightly, seriously, "and I don't want anything to come between us."
Alan stared curiously at him. "Why the hell then the three-way that night. Don't tell me you've
gotten all protective since then?"
Saul nodded. "In fact, I have. Stacy told me she was pregnant. That altered everything because I
wasn't the father and I knew you couldn't be. Then she said it might've been some black bastard
who got to her. So you see, this miscarriage..."
Alan's eyes widened. "Miscarriage? I thought she'd broken her hip?"
Saul grinned ruefully. "Well, now you know."
"But... but what brought it on?" Saul shook his head. "Let's say we were a little enthusiastic in bed.
She had a bad time, Alan, a real bad time."
"Oh, Christ!" Alan's face was white and his voice betrayed his concern. "Oh, shit, and to think I
said..." He buried his face in his hands for a moment. "Oh, Christ, how could I have been so
fucking stupid?"
Saul breathed a sigh of relief. "We all are at times, and I'm no exception," he said sagely. "Maybe
you can understand now a little better what she's been through."
Alan looked up. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry, Saul. I really am. I didn't know all that about her." He
smiled sadly. "Just goes to show, doesn't it?"
"You still so crazy about her now?"
"I'd rather not answer that," Alan said quietly. "You don't turn off in a second."
"I sometimes think we do," said Saul. "There's lots more girls in this town, Alan. You've had 'em
before you got hung up on Stacy. In fact, I know a couple. So don't think you're out in the cold.
You know something?" He looked over steadily at the younger man. "I think it would be a good
idea for you to go out tonight and get laid. Fuck Stacy out of your system. Tomorrow you'll wonder
what you ever saw in her."
Alan shook his head. "I may get laid, but I'll never get her out of my system. Not entirely. I'll
always remember the times we had together."
Saul laughed cynically. "What times? How many times? Christ, feller, be sensible. If you were in
my position, you could say that. But one or two fucks doesn't amount to a hill of beans. Say, I've
got an idea, if you're man enough to take it."
"What?"
"How'd you like to be my best man at the wedding?"
Alan burst out laughing. "Now I've heard everything."
"Well?"
Alan nodded his head. "Okay. That's a deal. When'll it be?"
"Just as soon as she gets well enough. Maybe a few weeks."
"Okay. Count on me." Alan's face grew serious. "And Saul, thanks. Thanks a lot. I guess I was an
idiot."
Saul smiled but he felt a thousand years old at that point, seeing Alan's expression and hearing his
tone of voice. "Okay. Let's forget it. You're okay, Alan. By the time you reach my age, you might
even be a pretty good man."
"By that time, maybe I'll have grown another inch," said Alan mischievously. "Then I'll have it over
you."
"If you grow another inch," said Saul, "you'll qualify for the Museum of Un-natural History."
They both laughed, then Saul rose. "Gotta go," he said. "See you soon. I'll let you know when to
stand ready for the great day."
"I'm ready anytime," said Alan. "Like you said, may the best man win. Lots of luck, Saul."
"Thanks."
The babble of congratulations and the cheerful shouts of the crowd outside the church still rang in
her ears as Stacy leaned back, taking a final look at the well-wishers outside, each one waving at
the departing car roaring down the street, Saul behind the wheel, Stacy beside him, both looking
radiantly happy. She laughed happily and there was a new lightness in her voice, a genuine
happiness. "Oh, Saul, I can hardly believe it," she breathed.
He took his eyes off the road for an instant and stared into her sparkling eyes. "Hi, Mrs. Kaplan," he
said softly.
"Hi there, husband." She leaned over and kissed him quickly on the cheek, then settled back,
sighing blissfully. "Oh, it was beautiful. I'm glad we waited."
"See. I told you to leave the thinking to me."
"And Alan was great. He's really a groovy guy. I don't know why I got so scared of what he said to
me."
"We all say things sometimes we don't mean. Alan was just a little anxious to have his piece of tail
and eat it, too."
She laughed loudly. "Christ, you're a mess. But I love you. Oh, Saul, I love you so much, and I owe
you so much."
"You don't owe me a goddamn thing except to make me feel good as often as you fancy. Which,"
he added with a knowing grin, "will probably be more than I bargained for."
She wriggled closer and slid her hand on his thigh. "It takes two," she whispered, "and I'm letting
you call the shots from now on. But at least you know I'll always be ready. The doc said everything
was fine again, only just to take it easy the first few times."
"I will, don't worry."
She leaned over and kissed his wrist as it lay on the steering wheel. "My husband," she murmured,
almost as if she couldn't believe it yet.
"Your only husband," he said softly. "This is for keeps, Stacy."
"I know. I feel that way. And it sure makes me feel good when I think about it."
"It makes me feel good when I think about something else," he replied, a wicked grin on his face.
"I'm glad we're not going far for our honeymoon."
"I am, too."
The car roared down the highway, leaving behind it the town of Kennington, heading across the
wide Oklahoma landscape, on toward the north, to a small motel tucked away beneath a grove of
trees, secluded from the roar of highway traffic, secluded from the world. Saul had reserved the
only large suite they had, and had alerted the management to have fresh flowers in the room and a
cold supper ready. It was barely sixty miles from Kennington and, with love speeding them, the
newlyweds made it in just over forty-five minutes, pulling up with a shrill scream of tires.
Saul looked over and grinned. "This is it," he said. "All ready?"
"I was ready an hour ago," she replied, "but this is the first real chance we've had, isn't it?"
"You mean you wanted me back then?"
"Sure," she replied, easing herself out of the car. "I always Want you, but I didn't think it would
look good to have sex with all those people looking on." She smiled impishly.
"Christ, you're too much," he said, laughing. Then he got out of the car, whipped her up into his
arms, and carried her, as she kicked her legs and giggled hysterically, across the threshold of the
motel room.
He threw her down on the bed and pointed a finger at her. "Okay, you've got five seconds to get
those things off," he said. "I'm going to the bathroom and when I come out, I want to see what I've
got for my money."
He disappeared through the door and Stacy looked round, getting a warm glow when she saw the
flowers on the table. Quietly, but with her heart beating a wild tattoo against her ribs, she took off
her clothes and lay back naked on the bed.
A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened and Saul emerged, naked, and with his penis jutting
out in full erection before him.
Stacy stared at it and gasped. "Oh, wow, I haven't seen him like that in a long time," she whispered.
"He looks more beautiful than ever. Come here, husband. This time you're gonna get a legal fuck."
"You're a mess," he whispered, melting into the bed and into her arms, feeling her nails in his back
and the softness of her body pressing against him, her thighs enclosing his rod as he lay upon her.
Their lips met and their tongues merged in a sensuous knot of passion, licking, sucking, while his
hands groped for her breasts, taking those wonderful orbs once more in his fingers and squeezing
them, while she maneuvered her legs apart so his rod could slide slowly up and into her bush,
plunging slowly, ever so slowly, carefully, into her innermost recesses.
She blessed him for being so slow, so gentle, but her passions, aroused to their fullest, screamed out
for the joys she had been denied for too long. She began rotating her hips, feeling the head of his
penis penetrate deep into her, and she moaned. "Oh, God, that's beautiful," she murmured, her teeth
biting his ear playfully. "I didn't know how good it could feel."
"You okay?"
"Sure, I'm okay. Never felt better and never felt anything better in me, either. Come on, start
humping, lover. I'm ready for some action."
Slowly he began thrusting his hips, plunging his tool in and out of her warm, slippery canal, feeling
her juices flowing, lubricating his shaft as it worked in, out, slowly, sensuously, sending chills
through her body and fire to her loins. His mouth closed over one breast, his teeth nipping her
nipple and bringing it to full firmness, a tight little nut on the end of her satin-smooth skin.
She squirmed and gasped, "More, more, bite them, bite them," and he moved from one breast to the
other, licking and sucking her flesh 'til she became even more aroused. Her body became a flame of
burning eroticism for him, to feel his sex thrusting quicker, deeper into her, to experience his
fingers over her body, sliding, gliding in the perspiration that was oozing from every pore, giving
her the sensations that, she knew, could only come from him, from the one man she really loved.
Her thoughts concentrated only on him, on the joys of his body, firm and muscular as it worked
above hers, probing her, giving her the highest pleasure possible. Not once did she even think of
Alan. He had been erased from her consciousness as cleanly as if he had never existed. There was
now only Saul, her only man, her husband, who filled her mind and her life and her body.
"More, more," she moaned. "Fuck me, Saul, fuck me good. I want you so much. I need you.
Deeper, deeper."
With a cry, he lifted her buttocks and flung her body up so that her legs were on his shoulders. His
penis plunged forward, slowly, and she felt it enter her even more than before, its bright red head
probing to her cervix and giving her incredible sensations.
Saul felt her reactions, her vagina enclosing his shaft, and he gasped at the strength. He had
suspected she might not be the same after her illness, but she was tighter than ever, her pressuring
flesh was giving his rod the greatest sensations he had ever experienced with any woman, even
with Stacy before. He left his penis deep inside her, feeling her rotate on the shaft, and his body
thrilled with the sensations. He felt his balls laying against her buttocks and he knew he was as
deep into her as he could ever be, his entire massive length buried within her, giving him the
highest ecstasy possible, and her the most fulfilling satisfaction.
Stacy groaned in sublime delight. She felt his sex inside her and the thrill was more than she
anticipated. She had been without this too long, she knew; she had always needed a man often, and
her stay in the hospital, broken only by a few surreptitious moments when she fellated Saul, had
given her a drive in her loins that she had forgotten she possessed.
"Oh, yes, yes, give him to me," she breathed. "Christ, I've missed him, Saul. Let me feel him, deep.
Yes, like that. Deeper, fuck me, baby, fuck me good. Let me have him all."
In her mind she pictured his massive tool, tightly encased in her own folds of steaming flesh,
gliding in and out, brushing past her clitoris and stimulating her, sending electric chills through her,
making her quiver and shake, and move her hips in rhythm with his own.
"Oh, it was never this good," she moaned. "Oh, Christ, this is the best ever. Saul, I love you, I love
you."
"I love you, too, Stacy."
On and on, their bodies streaming with sweat, adding to the sensuality of their union. His chest was
pushing against her breasts as he came forward, the hair rubbing her nipples and giving her more
delight. His hands were caressing her neck, her shoulders, every particle of her that he could reach.
Her hands were around his back, her nails dragging across his firm flesh, leaving little trails of
pleasure.
"I'm almost there," she gasped, feeling the slow onrush of her orgasm as it built deep within her,
pushed onward and upward by every thrust of his shaft, throbbing and jerking within her.
"Me, too," he whispered. "I can't hold it, Stacy."
She lunged her hips forward, meeting his and at the same moment, a blinding flash lifted their sight
and blasted them both into that limitless void where their bodies convulsed, their seed erupted from
their loins and they merged into one shaking, spurting delirious union of mutual pleasure, giving
and taking at the same time the timeless emotion between lovers.
It seemed that the world stood still, and they were joined forever at that instant, their bodies
becoming as one, and their passions pulsating in unison. Then slowly, gradually, with great
tenderness, he lowered her, withdrew himself and they lay side by side, relishing the afterglow of
their climax.
Stacy looked at him and her eyes were moist with her innermost feelings. She noticed that he, too,
had a serious expression on his handsome face.
"It has never been like that," she said softly. "Never."
"Maybe that's a good sign," he replied. "It shows how good it can be when there's love."
"When there's love." She savored the words. "Yes, when there's love, everything is better." She
kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll never run out of love for you, Saul. Do you think you can stand
it?"
He smiled happily. "I can stand it," he said devilishly, "if you can take it."
She looked down and saw his penis still firm, still rigid between his legs.
"I can take it anytime," she said, "and especially now. Come on, that was great for openers. Let's
get on with the show."
He rolled over and embraced her. She felt again his member penetrate her, plunge deep within and
she closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night, she knew; she hoped it would last forever.
The End
