Power Trip
by Rod Strong
(TWN-3114)


CHAPTER ONE 

It had been a long day, a very long day, and Moira was only too happy to 
have it come to an end. First, all those college courses dealing with big 
business, and then the practical application of those courses in the small 
company she managed. Her mother had insisted she study all those courses, 
and the lovely, brown-haired, emerald-eyed girl was unable to understand why 
it was so important for her to learn all this. 

She had taken a small, nondescript clothing store, and even as a part-time 
manager, had been able to turn it from a losing proposition into a 
moneymaker. Still, her mother had insisted the girl take the college 
courses, then put them to practical use. She had a natural knack for 
business, but she hated it. 

She paused before the store mirror and looked at herself just before closing 
up. She saw a twenty-six-year-old girl, a girl with a youthful face, a girl 
who was knowledgeable about business, but who was naive about life. Her 
turned-up nose wrinkled as she ran her fingers through curly brown hair that 
fell past her shoulders. Full lips pouted as they surveyed the mirrored 
image of the curvaceous figure she possessed. Full, thrusting breasts, a 
narrow waist, and wide hips leading to sensuous thighs. Thighs that had 
never known what it's like to have a man between them. Her mother watched 
Moira like a hawk, telling the girl, "Until your wedding night, you don't 
give that treasure to anyone." 

Considering her mother's reputation for promiscuity, it seemed downright 
hypocritical. But Moira was never one to disobey her mother. So, at the age 
of twenty-six, she was that rarity, a real virgin. 

It was time to get home. As she locked up the store, she turned and saw a 
familiar figure crossing the mall. 

"Hughie!" she called out, and Hugh Walker turned to face her. 

Hugh was the husband of her cousin, Jane. He was a man of medium height with 
brown thinning hair which he combed over his forehead, Burt Reynolds style. 
He also had a Burt Reynolds-style mustache. The man was a no-nonsense 
individual. When Moira had tried coming on to him two years ago, when she 
had first met him, he had rebuffed her, telling her he was married to her 
half-sister and was devoted to her. 

"Jane is my cousin," she had snapped at the time, "not my half-sister." 

"That's what you say," Hugh had replied. "Jane says otherwise." 

"Jane's father is my father's brother," Moira insisted. 

"Jane claims your father's brother married your mother to prevent either of 
you from putting in a claim on him." 

"My father is a very moral man," Moira objected. "In fact, he divorced my 
mother because he claims she was fooling around. Anyway, it doesn't matter. 
I haven't seen him since I was a baby, and I probably never will. 

Coming back to the present, she addressed Hughie again, "Look, Hughie, 
you're going past my house on the way home. How about dropping me off so I 
don't have to take a bus?" 

"Why not," Hugh nodded. "Come on!" 

They got into his light-tan Toyota Celica Supra, and fifteen minutes later 
he was parking behind a gray Mercedes in front of Moira's home. The license 
plate on the Mercedes read "GEORGE 1." 

"Well, well," Hugh muttered. "The esteemed attorney, George Hyde is visiting 
you, I see. I'd recognize his license plate anywhere." 

"That lech," Moira shrugged. "Heaven only knows how many times he's tried 
putting his hands on me. He always rubs against me when he passes me." 

"He's your problem," Hugh shrugged, unconcerned. "See you around, kid." 

"Give my hate to Jane," Moira smiled, getting out of the car. 

"Careful, you're talking about the woman I love," Hugh insisted as the 
beautiful girl closed his car door and headed for the house. 

Moira no longer felt attracted to Hughie Walker. He was nice looking, but in 
spite of his bravado, there seemed to be something lacking in his 
personality. Once upon a time when she had seen him, she had felt itchiness 
in her vagina. Now, she felt nothing. In a way, she was glad he had never 
succumbed to her initial pleadings. 

Taking her key from her clutch purse, Moira unlocked the door and entered 
the house. She knew George Hyde was somewhere in the house, but all she 
heard was total silence. Where was her mother? Where was George Hyde? 

Then she heard a whimper. What was going on? 

Quietly closing the front door behind her, she walked inside. Silence again! 
Then once more there was a whimper, and she realized it had come from the 
bedroom upstairs! 

Stealthily climbing the stairs, she silently approached the closed door to 
the master bedroom; the bedroom where her mother had slept alone all these 
years. In spite of her father's insistence, Moira had refused to believe in 
her mother's immorality-until now! 

Cracking the bedroom door just a little, she peered in and froze. There was 
her mother, all naked, and there was an equally naked George Hyde, pinning 
her to the bed. Moira jammed a knuckle into her mouth to keep herself from 
screaming. Horrible! Maybe she should run in and throw the man off her 
mother. Perhaps he was forcing her to do this! 

Even as she thought all these things, her dazed brain found it difficult to 
make her body function. She found herself trembling, thinking how easy it 
would be for the attorney to kill her mother-and then kill her as well. 

Taking another deep breath, Moira peered into the room again, and she 
realized Micky, her mother, had an arm wrapped around the attorney's body. 
Her other arm was wrapped around the man's neck. 

Moira stared, aghast. She had an excellent view of the proceedings. The 
coital couple was only a dozen feet away from her, and across the room, the 
dressing table mirror reflected everything taking place. From where she 
stood, she had an excellent view of the man's hair buttocks and broad back. 
The mirror reflected his straining face. 

Moira stood transfixed, unable to pull away. As she stared, the girl saw her 
mother's legs swing out, then tighten in a circle around the attorney's 
body, her ankles locking. At that point, Moira understood that her mother 
was a more-than-willing partner to what was occurring. 

Now Moira knew her father's allegations were true. Her mother was a 
promiscuous woman. Considering how often the older, blonde-haired woman 
fought to keep Moira's virginity intact, it seemed ridiculous, but it was 
true. 

From somewhere far away, the thought came that this was something private 
and she ought not to be witnessing it, but Moira stood there gaping, staring 
at the hair-covered furrow of her mother's hot and aching slit as the older 
woman's thighs opened wide once more. Yes, there were the ragged, glistening 
lips of her mother's tantalizing vagina-at least tantalizing to George Hyde. 

George Hyde, up on his knees now, tugged back a little, and Moira had her 
first glimpse of an erect male penis, albeit, only part of the organ, since 
the rest was still buried in the teeming orifice of her mother's sodden 
delta. She silently gasped, amazed at the length and thickness of the stolid 
pole. Then there was that scrotum, tight as it was at the moment, it was 
still huge, containing twin marbles, nestling firmly against her mother." 

Her mother's right hand dropped down between her thighs, and using her 
fingers, she spread her vaginal lips even wider apart, and the massive 
penile prod moved back a big more, revealing its true immensity, and then 
slammed forward and down, burying itself to the hilt in the snug container 
of Micky Starr's cunt. Colorless oils oozed out and coated her thighs, as 
well as the attorney's balls. 

A sigh and gasp escaped from her mouth, the same sounds Moira had heard when 
she had first entered the house. George Hyde remained still for a moment, 
then repeated the maneuver. He slowly pushed and pulled, and the tightness 
of her mother's crushing cunt made sucking sounds around the throbbing 
staff. Each backward thrust had the huge phallic pale tugged all the way 
back so only the head was buried in the succulent maw of Micky's pussy. 
Ridges of pink flesh were seen clinging tenaciously to the withdrawing 
prick. Then the hard pole plunged all the way in once again. 

Moira's mouth hung open in disbelief as she saw her mother arching her back 
off the mattress, the rotating hips thrust upward to meet the downward 
screwing motion of the driving cock. Micky's cunt seemed to be desperately 
trying to encase every last millimeter of peter in her clinging vaginal 
scabbard. 

"Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me," the wonderfully husky voice of Micky 
Starr groaned. 

The horrible obscenities not only filled Moira's ears, but her mind. Lewd, 
forbidden words she had never been permitted to use sent electric tingles 
through the twenty-six-year-old girl. 

A smoldering spark ignited between Moira's thighs, and she clamped her loins 
together in an attempt to put out the blaze. She was completely under the 
spell of the fucking couple, and her own body was rotating in time to the 
movement she was witnessing. She ached to tear herself from the lascivious 
sight confronting her, but was unable to do so. 

The attorney was fucking her mother wildly, and then a piercing scream 
filled the room, signifying her mother's orgasm. It was followed by a low, 
savage moan. Then, as Moira watched, she saw the whitish fluid oozing from 
the tightness of her mother's still-filled vagina. The rivulets ran down her 
mother's asscheeks onto the bed. The two of them were now lying still, he on 
top of her, both panting. 

"Wh-what about Moira?" the man was saying, and for a moment, Moira was 
afraid the attorney was looking to do the same thing to her. 

"She won't be home for another twenty minutes," Moira heard her mother 
reply. 

"We'd better get dressed," George insisted. "We can always to this another 
time when we're sure not to be interrupted. Besides, my impromptu visit has 
to do with your daughter, as you well know." 

"You mean, you're going to tell her about the will," Micky murmured. 

"She has to be told," George insisted. "It was part of her father's 
instructions. I noticed you trained her well." 

"She's ready to take over," Micky murmured. "I'll miss my daughter, but this 
is an opportunity not to be missed. You're right. Go get dressed. We have to 
be ready for Moira when she comes in." 

Silently, Moira slinked away and waited downstairs. Ten minutes went by, 
then she slammed the front door, calling out, "Mom, I'm home!" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Moira was still stunned by what she had seen, but walked into the kitchen 
and waited discreetly while her mother and the attorney came downstairs. 

"Darling," her mother called out once she was in the living room. "Did all 
go well today?" 

"Yes, mother," Moira nodded, entering the living room and seeing her mother 
and the attorney, both totally unperturbed by her presence. 

Micky Starr was a beautiful woman who didn't look at all like her daughter. 
She was tinier than Moira, with short, blonde, upswept hair. Tiny laugh 
lines were playing around the corners of her mouth, and there were the 
beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Otherwise, she was an 
unquestionably attractive woman. Attractive and, as Moira now knew, every 
bit as promiscuous as her ex-husband had claimed, which was why he had ran 
out on them, letting Micky divorce him. 

Moira had always wondered about her father. She'd never really known him and 
had never had the chance to love him. Nor did she hate him because her 
mother had brought her up to think tolerantly of the man. He had provided 
for both of them, paying the taxes on the small home in which they lived, 
paying for their food and clothing, but otherwise having nothing to do with 
them. 

George Hyde, who was her father's attorney as well as her mother's, was the 
only tie between them. 

"Well, Moira," the dapper little attorney addressed her, smiling and holding 
out a hand to her. 

He had a very narrow trimmed mustache and graying hair. As always, or at 
least when he was dressed, he was immaculately dressed, this time in a gray 
cash-mere suit. 

"Moira," her mother began, "Mr. Hyde has something very important to say to 
you. Please listen carefully to him, dear." 

They sat, Moira's mother pouring a small brandy for George. The latter 
sipped it, then opened a briefcase and took out some papers and shuffled 
through them saying, "Moira, your father died last week." 

"Oh!" was all Moira managed to say. 

"According to his express instructions, you, your mother and a few other 
people are to be in my office Saturday for the official reading of the will. 
This will be especially important to you. Now I have a very personal 
question to ask, and you must answer it." 

"If I can," she nodded. 

"You're the only one who can," George answered. "Are you still a virgin. 
Please answer truthfully. It's important." 

"Well, actually, yes, I am," Moira admitted, turning red, hating to discuss 
something so intimate with this man who had just finished rogering her 
mother so thoroughly. 

"Excellent," George nodded his approval, smiling at her mother. "You did a 
good job, Micky. As a result, you'll also be in for a pleasant surprise. But 
I can't say anything more right now. I'll see you both at the reading of the 
will." 

"Now I must be on my way to the Walker home," George continued. "Jane has to 
be told, too. She's also involved, you know, and it's important she be 
apprised of this as well." 

"She's such a rotten girl," Micky protested. "From the day she was able to 
talk, she's spewed nothing but invectives at us. We never did her any harm, 
and she insisted on cursing at us." 

"Remember, the man she knew as her father was poor," George replied. "Her 
mother insisted your husband was Jane's father. It happened six months 
before he married you. As a result, Jane believes herself to be Harry 
Starr's oldest child and feels entitled to whatever is going to left to 
Moira. But Harry never acknowledged Jane as his." 

"Are you saying that bitch really is my half-sister?" Moira gasped. 

"Everything will be made clear to you at the reading of the will," George 
replied. "I am not at liberty to discuss this further right now." 

"We'll be there," Micky insisted. "I did everything Harry ordered. Moira is 
very skilled in the business world, she's as sharp in her own way as her 
father was in his. I won't have her cheated of her inheritance, George." 

"Just follow instructions, and you'll both be happy," George insisted. 
"Moira, remember, you're to have nothing to do with men at all between now 
and Saturday. You'll understand why at that time." 

He kissed Micky chastely on the cheek, making Moira snigger to herself. Then 
once again, he shook hands with Moira, his eyes letting her know he would 
love to be the one to rob her of her virginity. With a parting goodbye, he 
left the house. 

He drove quickly to a house five minutes away, the house of Hugh and Jane 
Walker. There, he outlined to Jane the same instructions about coming to his 
office on Saturday. 

Jane was much taller then Moira. She was very slender, built like a model. 
In fact, she was a model. She had a lovely face, but a mean disposition. 
When her husband had married her, he had known she wouldn't be faithful to 
him, but Hugh hadn't cared. At least it meant getting his share of her, even 
if others had a piece of her now and again. 

After the attorney had finished giving his instructions, Jane addressed her 
husband, "Hughie, take a walk." 

"A long walk or a short one?" Hugh asked, which meant, "Are you going to 
fuck the man, or just talk to him?" 

"A short walk, dear," she replied, smiling at him. The smile meant she was 
all his-after she was finished talking with George, that is. 

Jane led George into a lavishly furnished private den, sitting down beside 
him on a divan. The house was a far more elegant one than Moira's because 
Jane loved luxury. In spite of her six-figure earnings, and her husband's 
equally high income, the Walkers were in debt. Jane had many expensive 
parties, and she bought many expensive gifts, especially for those men who 
serviced her in a better way than her husband. 

"What's in the will, Mr. Hyde?" she asked, her hand caressing George's knee. 
She was in a white and green kimono, and it was obvious she had nothing else 
on underneath. 

"You'll find out Saturday," George replied, less perturbed than he might 
have been, the edge having been taken off his sexual appetite by Micky 
Starr. 

"I suppose I'm mentioned, which is why you want me there?" Jane continued 
prompting. 

"Let's say it will be to your advantage to be there," George replied. 

"You know," she told him, "I can make things good for you if I happen to get 
a chunk of the old man's fortune." 

"I have no control over the will," George shrugged. 

"You can always slip in a change or two without anyone knowing it," Jane 
insisted, her hand now rubbing his balls. 

"That would be unethical," George maintained. 

"Just remember" Jane continued, unzipping his fly and pulling out his 
freshly washed pecker, "I can make things nice for you." 

George jumped as she lowered her head and sucked his penis into her mouth. 
Her tongue twirled expertly around it, and even though he'd had one orgasm 
already, his penis slowly grew to attention. 

Abruptly, Jane pulled her mouth from the rigid cock, saying, "It's just a 
sample, Georgie-Porgie. I made it swell, and I can take the starch out of it 
very pleasantly; after I'm certain of getting something in return. You take 
that hard-on home with you and let it remind you how good this girl can be." 

George hemmed a little, stood, managed to tuck his phallus back into his 
pants, and without another word, left. Though he had often defended her to 
Micky Starr, he knew she had a vicious tongue and a nasty disposition when 
she wanted. Besides, there was one more thing he had to do before going home 
for the evening. 

Hugh Walker saw George getting into his Mercedes and figured it was safe to 
go back into the house. He knew his wife was good, but Jane did things 
slowly. There was no chance that she had really done anything with George 
Hyde. That meant her cunt was his for the evening. He stepped inside and was 
greeted by his wife who came to him and threw her arms wildly around his 
neck. 

"We're going to be filthy rich, Hughie," she murmured into his mouth as her 
tongue dueled with his. "We'll never have to worry about a thing-not ever 
again. Even if the estate of my late father is equally divided between that 
bitchy Moira and myself, it'll mean billions!" 

"What makes you so certain you'll get half?" Hugh questioned. 

"That attorney, Hyde, he'll treat us right. You'll see," she smiled. 

"He can only follow the will's instructions," Hugh insisted. 

"Don't worry," Jane assured her husband. "He wouldn't have come here unless 
he had something worthwhile to offer. You'll see," she repeated. "Now come 
on, give me a cock appetizer." 

Swiftly, she peeled off the kimono she was wearing, tossing it to the side. 
Hugh stood there staring at the marble-white perfection of her. Even with 
her small breasts, she was utterly beautiful. The hairs on her pelvis had 
been shaved away because she often had to model in-the nude, or near-nude. 

Hugh stared at the bare pinkness of her lower lips, seeing the wetness 
amassing on the curlicued flesh, and he licked his lips. She had such a 
gorgeous cunt! More than once he had feasted at it. Jane loved it when he 
ate her because it meant he was somewhat subservient to her. But she loved 
"doing" as much as "being done to," and at the moment, she appeared in the 
mood to give rather than receive, which meant she really was in a good mood. 

Her hands were all over him, removing his clothing a little at a time, 
tossing everything wildly about as she led him from the living room and down 
hallway to the far end of the house where the master bedroom was. By the 
time they'd reached there, Hugh was down to nothing else but his shoes and 
socks. 

"Leave them on," Jane insisted. "They make you look so sexy." 

She led him to the bed and had him lie flat on his back, then slid on top of 
him. Hugh gasped, feeling the hot slick ness of her seething labia grip his 
flesh and such on whatever was touched. She slid her slick cunt back and 
forth on his chest, then on his belly, and against his throbbing cock. But 
she refused to let him stab it into her. 

Leaning down, she used her tongue, slowly licking his body, removing her 
oily juices with her mouth, sucking and licking him lower and lower. 

"Oh my God!" Hugh gasped feverishly. 

"Love me?" she asked, her tongue wandering through the brown patch on his 
pelvis. 

"You know it," he groaned. 

"Do anything I ask?" she wanted to know. 

"Anything!" he moaned. 

"Just remember that promise," she insisted, as her rubber band-like lips 
closed tautly over the red, throbbing head of his stiffly aching cock. 

Hugh groaned and thrust his loins upward, and more of the weighty organ slid 
into her oral cavity. Her tongue twirled more rapidly around the stanchion 
of hot, hard gristle, causing the blood-bloated head to swell even more. 

"Thatta girl!" Hugh gasped. "Suck me, you wonderful bitch! Suck it, 
Janie-baby! Suck me!" 

For some reason, his mind flashed to Moira. Except for the that one time 
when she had let him know she was available, she had never been sexually 
forward. But the idea of having Moira do this to him suddenly aroused him. 
Hell! If Moira ever got a lip lock on his cock, he'd fire a white wad down 
her gullet that'd float a battleship! 

Shit! His cock felt like a bloated balloon! He crammed his thighs all the 
more firmly against Jane's lovely face, listening to her protesting mumble, 
but at this point he wasn't in the mood for protests, Either he would 
unleash his contents through the safety valve of his cock-head, or his prick 
was going to blow up. 

"Come on, baby, come on," he gasped. She had taken him this far, and she was 
going to suck him right over the edge! 

Suddenly, the white-hot stream erupted, and Jane began voraciously gulping, 
drinking down the contents of his testicles. She sucked as she swallowed. As 
a result, even when he was finished, she managed to keep his cock stimulated 
and hard. 

"It's my turn, lover," she told him, taking her mouth away. "Now you can 
fuck me." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Rocco Simmons looked like Clark Kent. He had that mild-mannered appearance, 
dark hair, glasses, a placid expression. But he was the hardest-boiled 
private eye in the business. He took jobs other P.I.s were afraid to touch. 
He'd been in and out of the downtown jail more times than most criminals, 
basically because the local police officials were always looking to pin 
something on him. But Rocco always managed to work his way out of trouble. 
If the police hated him, anyone against whom he worked hated him even more. 

But women, almost all women, loved Rocco. Even women he trailed for divorce 
evidence loved him. Perhaps it was because he treated them in an 
old-fashioned way, with respect, even when they didn't deserve it. 

Rocco never got sexually involved with a client. He knew the headache it 
would create if the woman would start bellyaching about how he had screwed 
her, and did he expect her to pay him too? He didn't have time for nonsense 
like that. When the urge hit him, he got his rocks off with some female or 
other of his personal preference. He was much better off avoiding clients. 

There was only one woman with whom Rocco maintained a friendship, purely 
platonic. Their friendship stemmed from a time when Rocco had saved her 
life. 

Marla LaValle had been married to Jack LaValle, who had run the finest 
information service around. But Jack had been ambushed and killed one night. 
Marla, intent on taking over her husbands service, had gone after his 
killers, using the techniques of the queen bee. She had lured them to her, 
one at a time, had actually slept with them, and then had killed them. Stung 
them to death, though in her case, it was with a poison-filled hypo needle. 

But the last of the group had caught on. He decided that after sleeping with 
her, he would kill her instead of the other way around. Marla had managed to 
get away, however, and though the man had followed her, she had managed to 
survive because of Rocco. Wrapping up a job of his own, he had come across 
the man chasing her, and had broken the man's two arms and legs. After Rocco 
had walked away, Marla had returned and killed the man. From that day on, as 
far as Marla LaValle, or as she was now known in underworld circles, Queen 
Bee, was concerned, she owed Rocco Simmons a debt she would never be. able 
to repay. 

From that point on, Rocco got all his quality information from Queen Bee 
free of charge. More important, if Marla discovered some male was after 
Rocco, she used her Queen Bee technique to stop that person--loving him, 
then stinging him to death. No man ever willingly made love to Marla 
LaValle, afraid she would sting him to death, as well. Somehow, though, 
Marla managed to satisfy herself with men who were unaware of her 
reputation, giving them the time of their lives, then leaving them. Thus the 
reputation of Queen Bee remained intact. 

Rocco was the most ethical man George Hyde knew. Once hired on a job, Rocco 
never went to another job, no matter how much money was offered. Neither did 
Rocco accept offers from any one who worked counter to his clients' 
interests. His integrity was unquestionable. 

George Hyde never questioned Rocco about his rates. Whatever the 
bespectacled detective charged, he was worth it. 

Rocco had a small office in the heart of New York City, where he was able to 
look down on the teeming humanity that passed by every day and thing how 
lucky he was to be above it all. 

George parked his car near Rocco's office, then hurried on into the 
building. As he approached the office, he saw the door was slightly ajar. He 
was ready to knock when he heard voices from within. 

"I'm ready if you are, lover," he heard a sexy female voice say. 

"Good thing these old fleabag buildings put in full bathrooms," George heard 
Rocco's voice say "Aren't you going to close the bathroom door?" the girl 
asked. 

"Nah!" Rocco replied. "In case someone comes into the office, I want to know 
about it. Don't like surprises." 

"How will you know?" the girl inquired. 

"See the light over the bathroom sink?" Rocco was heard to say. "When 
someone walks from the outer office into the inner office, they break an 
electric eyebeam and the lightbulb starts blinking. Then I know someone's 
out there. 

George stepped into the outer office very carefully and eased along, looking 
for loose floorboards under the ratty carpeting. He finally reached the 
doorway separating the inner and outer offices. If he hadn't been looking 
for it, he would never have spotted the small electric eye. It was just 
below his knees. He carefully stepped over it, then approached the bathroom 
and peered in. 

For a moment, he hardly recognized Rocco. The man had his glasses off and 
was totally nude, as was the brunette with him. They were standing near the 
tub shower as the beautiful girl adjusted the water temperature. Her 
outstretched arms revealed fabulous full breasts with chocolate tips that 
stood out over her narrow waist. 

As George Hyde took up his position at the bathroom door, Lisa Devery (as 
George was to learn later was the brunette's name) stepped into the shower, 
letting the jet streams his her. 

Rocco's lanky, well-muscled body followed hers, and taking a cake of soap 
from the build-in soap dish, he began running it over he smooth supple back. 

Her skin was sleek and glistening, demanding to be touched, and Rocco was 
never one to ignore this kind of delightful demand. 

He swiftly worked up a lather with his hands, then reached put an filled his 
palm with one of her melon-like breasts. Slowly, he worked his fingers 
toward the throbbing dark mushroom of nipple and aureolae. His fingers 
pulled and massaged her nipple until it swelled and hardened. Then he turned 
his attention to the other breast and lavished gave it the same treatment 
until it matched its twin in hardness and length. 

"Oooohhh!" Lisa gasped. "I knew you'd be good." 

Rocco smiled. It pleased him to hear yet another woman fall prey to his 
talents. His expert hands flatly soaped their way along her belly and slowly 
down to the tangle of moss between her thighs. Abruptly, he slipped his 
middle finger into the tight division between her succulent labia. Gently, 
his exploring digit slid between the fleshy lips of her sweet vagina. He 
teased and taunted the love-bud of her clitoris, making her whimper and moan 
in sexual bliss. 

"Oh, Jesus!" she wept. "You don't know what you're doing to me!" 

Rocco was never quite certain how the girl managed the next maneuver, but he 
was pleased she did. Christ! She was a sexual marvel! How she managed to 
match her lithe form to his six-foot frame was difficult to comprehend. Yet 
she was wrapped around him, her legs gripping his middle, her left hand 
reaching down behind her, going beneath her body, grabbing his phallic 
extension and aiming the now engorged tip of it at the dehiscence between 
her trembling thighs. The acorn-shaped head of the phallus nuzzled up, then 
down, through the sodden fur surrounding her tantalizing cunt. Finally, it 
pushed its way into the hot crease between her inner lips. 

Rocco's eyes moved to the light bulb for a moment-no, it wasn't blinking. He 
would be able to throw himself into this with his whole heart. The full 
length of his cock was now deeply entrenched in the fiery kiln of her 
simmering cauldron. 

The young seductress stood, one foot on the edge of the tub, the other 
wrapped around his calf, straddling him as she humped back and forth, her 
pelvis moving in a gentle, caressing, teasing undulation. She literally 
screwed herself onto him, twisting around and around on the broad head of 
his masculinity. 

Rocco's entire body tensed and he groaned out loud as the muscles of her 
vagina suddenly clamped down, crushing the thick pike within their confines. 

George Hyde, staring, felt his own cock grow to full mast. 

Lisa had Rocco firmly gripped, the spongy folds of her inner pussy sucked at 
his penis as if it were candy. The sensation was fabulous to Rocco. It was 
as if there were a hidden hand in her seething feminine vat. 

Rocco moved his hand and wedged it between their water-soaked cores. With 
little difficulty, he found the clitoris and began manually teasing it. 

"Oh my God!" Lisa screamed as his fingertip taunted her aroused little 
penis-like extension to vibrant life. Her foot pressed all the more firmly 
against the top of the but while her other foot threatened to pull Rocco's 
leg out from under him. Her pressured pussy began a series of squeezing and 
releasing motions with each swirling roll of her hips. She found herself 
screwing around and around the upthrust spike of prick as her hands 
tightened on his shoulders for better support. 

"I'm ... getting there ... she groaned, gyrating and grinding her hips all 
the more quickly. "Close now!" 

The pace of her undulating pelvis sped up as she drove herself toward the 
inevitable orgasm. She had to have it! 

Rocco's body was trembling. His strong legs quivered, thighs and calves 
ready to turn to mush. His balls burned with mounting need as his pulsing 
cock continued its motion. 

"GOD! OH MY GOD! I CAN FEEL IT!" Lisa cried out, her body trembling 
violently as she came. 

As she descended from her pleasure flight, the black-haired temptress in his 
arms whispered, "Now! You come, too! It'll be perfect if you come!" 

Rocco surrendered to the inner urges of his body. Lava flowed up from the 
center of his being and spewed from the pulsing tip of his cock into the 
sucking central Core. Semen gushed heavily from him to her, filling the 
quivering hold of her womanhood. 

His legs were no longer able to support them, and slowly his knees began to 
buckle. Lisa quickly let her feet fall to the bottom of the tub, where she 
was barely able to stand. She leaned back against the tiled wall while the 
shower continued to rain down on them. For a brief moment, she was the one 
supporting Rocco. She remained that way while he finished emptying himself 
into her. 

They stood, clinging to each other for a long moment while the shower rained 
down on their bodies. Then they kissed, each to let the other know of the 
satisfaction felt. Finally, Rocco turned off the shower, they got out, 
toweled one another off and got dressed. 

When they stepped into the inner office, neither saw George Hyde, who was 
behind a window curtain. Rocco ushered the girl to the door and let her out. 
When he turned, he almost killed George Hyde. Seeing the man standing there, 
his hand instantly pulled the hidden derringer from his belt as he hit the 
floor and prepared to fire. But George remained perfectly still. 

"Are you out of your mind!" Rocco yelled. "What the-hell are you trying to 
prove, sneaking up on me like that? Wanna git yourself killed?" 

"Relax," George told him, perspiring a bit himself as he sat in the one 
chair Rocco had in front of the desk. Rocco, himself, sat in the chair 
behind the desk. "I have a job for you, body guarding, and it's a good one." 

"Tell me about it," Rocco insisted. 

"You'll get the full details on Saturday, when you come to my office. In the 
meantime, here's the gist of it. She's a twenty-six-year-old woman, 
strong-minded, extremely intelligent and about to assume a position of 
extreme power." 

"You think someone might try knocking her off?" Rocco asked. 

"Hell, no!" George shrugged, "but the will contains a lot of clauses. If the 
girl doesn't live up to them, someone else will take over. So let me suggest 
very simply and very quickly, that we prevent any outsider from doing 
something to make this girl break faith with the will." 

"Such as?" 

"Such as the girl is unmarried. The will stipulates that if she is unmarried 
at the time of the reading, she is to be checked by a doctor to be certain 
that she's still a virgin. Find a doctor we can trust-one who can't be 
bribed to slice her hymen out of her. 

"Second, no matter how much she may object, see to it that no man puts 
sexual hands on her until her wedding night. That will be sometime within a 
month from the reading." 

"This whole thing sounds crazy," Rocco insisted, shaking his head. 

"Maybe," George shrugged, "but we have to abide by the terms of the will. 

Harry Starr knew what he was doing. Want the job?" 

"How much?" Rocco asked. 

"Five hundred a day, plus expenses." 

"Forget it!" Rocco snapped. "Since no one is out to kill the chick, it means 
I can't do any heavy strong-arming and claim self-defense." 

"How much do you want, Rocco?" 

"A minimum of twenty-five thou, plus expenses, plus whatever else I think I 
might have earned, up to another twenty-five thou." 

"Why so much?" 

"To guard this chick, I'm going to have to go to the Queen Bee and get some 
of her men. Aside from having the best info service in town, she also has a 
great protection service." 

"I thought you got everything for free from her," George stated. 

"For me, it's free. For someone else, the regular rates. This chick is not 
me. Well?" 

"The Queen Bee is expensive," George deliberated, "but she's worth it." 

"Yeah," Rocco agreed. 

"So, I guess we hire the Queen Bee," George agreed. 

"Smart move," Rocco nodded in agreement. "With those guys backing me up, 
I'll be able to do a first-rate job." 

"I hope so," George sighed. "There'll be more than one person looking to 
keep this lady from ascending the Starr throne. She has a half-sister who'll 
be looking to get half the goodies. She'll be more than a little 
disappointed when she finds out what she's really going to get." 

"Anyone else?" Rocco asked, making his tape recorder a little louder. 

"Competition. They'll want to tear off a piece of Starr, and without the 
girl at the helm, they'll be able to do it. There'll also be a little inside 
rivalry, but for the most part, I don't think they'll touch the girl." 

"Suppose you tell me about the Starr empire," Rocco insisted. 

"Come on," George said, shaking his head. "Planetary Insurance, Meteor 
Banking, Comet Shipping, ASTRAL Oil, Galaxy Tankers, and whole host of other 
things. This is a giant conglomerate. Heavenly Products, a food group larger 
than Proctor and Gamble, Lever Brothers and Colgate-Palmolive put together. 
In Scandinavia, Starr Industries owns the Stern Auto Company, In Japan they 
own Murimoto Electronics, in Europe, they control most of the coal, iron, 
steel, copper, and rare metals companies. In Africa, they own Shooting Star 
Diamond Mines, in South America, they control Estrella Emeralds 
Incorporated. Total value of more than a trillion dollars." 

"A trillion dollars?" Rocco gasped. "George, have you any idea how much that 
is? And all that goes to some snot-nosed girl?" Rocco asked, incredulous. 

"You'll get the full details at the reading of the will," George told him. 
"This girl is going to need a bodyguard, and in more ways than one way." 

"Who's the lucky bridegroom?" Rocco asked. 

"To date, there's no one in mind," George responded. "But the girl will 
definitely be married one month from the reading of the will. It's one of 
the stipulations." 

"This Harry Starr sounds like he was a nut." 

"The man was total genius," George answered. "I'm heading home, Rocco. Just 
be at my office on Saturday, okay." 

"Right," the tough, bespectacled investigator nodded. "I'll have the Queen 
Bee with me." 

"Fine," George nodded his approval. Then, after shaking hands on the deal, 
he left. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Norris Allman was no longer a youngster. The sixty-seven-year-old widower, 
in charge of the accounting department at Starr Industries, scratched his 
wrinkled jaw as he looked over the computerized readouts again. No doubt 
about it, someone was stealing again. It was a clever way of stealing, 
Norris had to admit. Had anyone else been reading the computer readouts, the 
thief would have gotten away with it. But Norris was so used to these 
computerized printouts, nothing escaped his keen eyes, even if he had to 
wear glasses to keep those eyes that way. 

Norris was short, and to some, he actually looked downright ugly, with 
thinning gray hair, a short nose, prune-like features, and a strong jaw. To 
his now deceased wife, Norris had always looked like a Greek god. To him, 
she had been Aphrodite-incarnate, and when she had died seven years earlier, 
Norris had crawled into a quiet shell, living solely for his work, nothing 
more. His work was to make certain all the accounts at Starr industries 
balanced, a mammoth task no one would have been able to perform had not 
everything been done by various computers in advance. Norris always 
completed the final readouts, catching items no one else would have been 
able to spot. 

He had spotted what looked like an error, and had run some computations 
through the machines, only to discover the monumental theft. He performed a 
step-by-step analysis, checking, rechecking, cross-checking. He was finally 
able to narrow everything down to one department. From there, he was able to 
narrow everything down to one man-Alan Kling. 

It would be have been easy to confront King with it, but first, Norris had 
to know why Kling was stealing. After all, the man earned in excess of 
eighty thousand a year. Norris, himself, earned close to half a million a 
year, which made him fiercely loyal to the company. 

The fact that Harry Starr was now dead didn't change things for Norris. It 
was to the company himself that Norris owed his allegiance. Now that Starr's 
daughter was about to take things over, Norris would show her the same 
fidelity he had given her father. If the woman had a brain in her head, she 
would realize that, while no one was indispensable, Norris definitely made 
things easier and more profitable. 

It had taken weeks, but Norris, through judicious work on his own, finally 
discovered why Alan Kling was stealing. No, it wasn't gambling, nor was it 
women. Alan Kling was a pragmatist, intent on going into business for 
himself, eventually. But it looked like he wasn't about to settle for a 
small business that might be built up over a period of time. Alan Kling 
wanted to start big, very big. He had slowly siphoned off millions from 
Starr Industries. 

The greedy Kling was still draining, so he evidently hadn't reached his goal 
yet. He had done a good job of covering himself. If the shortages had been 
found by anyone other than Norris,, the blame would have gone to five other 
people, some even in different departments. Kling was clever, that was for 
sure. 

It was now Friday evening, and Norris decided it was time to confront Kling. 
It was after business hours, and everyone else had .left the Tower Building, 
including Alan Kling. But Norris was fully familiar with Kling's habits, and 
knew where he could find him easily enough. 

He waited outside Lindy's where Kling went to eat every Friday evening, 
almost always with two different women, neither being his wife. The poor 
woman rarely saw him on weekends. The only favor Kling had done for her was 
to keep her as beneficiary in his large insurance policy, a policy that was 
more than two years old so the suicide clause would not be invoked. 

"Mr. Kling," Norris called out just before Alan had a chance to enter the 
restaurant. 

Kling saw Norris and recognized him immediately. Confident he would never be 
found out, he never gave the subject of his theft a thought as he strolled 
over to Norris and said, "Mr. Allman, I didn't know you ate at Lindy's." 

"I don't," was Norris' reply as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his 
topcoat. The weather was turning chilly, and Norris felt it sooner than 
most. 

"What is it, then?" Kling asked, a little less confident now. 

"I came here to talk with you," Norris told him. "Tell the bimbos to take a 
hike. You won't need them, Mr. Kling." 

"Hey," the girls objected to the obvious insult. "What the hell...." 

"Shut up!" Kling snapped, handing them each a fifty-dollar bill. "Take off!" 
Then he turned back toward Norris and asked diffidently, "What's up?" 

"Let's take a walk," Norris ordered. 

They moved through the crowds of people headed down Forty-Seventh Street 
toward the west side, Norris remaining silent until they'd reached the dock 
area. 

"So?" Kling asked, not being able to stand the suspense any longer, "what's 
up?" 

"I've found how you managed to steal from Starr," Norris said very quietly. 
"I thought I should let you know." 

"What the hell can you do about it?" Kling snorted. "Even if I stop now, 
you'll never be able to prove I'm the one who took anything." 

"I'm not bothering to prove anything," Norris shrugged. "Since I discovered 
how you did it, I pulled off some computer wizardry of my own and put all 
the money back. You're dead broke, now, and you're fired! If you try coming 
back to Starr Industries, I'll have you tossed out, bodily. So do yourself a 
favor and scram." 

"I don't need you," Kling snorted again. "I can get a job with any similar 
outfit...." 

"The word is already out not to hire you," Norris replied. "I don't have to 
give reasons, and you know it. If you try taking me to court, I'll have to 
show the judges why I fired you, and how you stole. You're through, Mr. 
Kling." 

Alan Kling simply stood there staring at Norris, unable to believe the older 
man. His face slowly suffused with rage, and he roared at Norris, "I ought 
to kill you." 

"So kill me," Norris shrugged. "I've already left a note to the effect that 
if I disappear, it's because of you. I've left it where you can't get at it. 
You're all washed up, Mr. Kling. Finished." 

Without another word, Norris turned away from an ashen-faced Alan Kling. The 
latter began to understand the implications of what Norris had told him. All 
his dreams had suddenly come to an end. Not only that, but there was 
virtually no hope of his ever getting any kind of job where he'd be able to 
filch such money again. He was used to living high on the hog, and 
everything he had saved had been from what he had stolen. He was virtually 
penniless, with no prospects of ever being able to earn a good living again. 

Alan Kling was a man of strong moods. He had been highly elated when he had 
been stealing from Starr Industries. Now he suddenly hit the bottom of 
depression. Seeing not way out for himself, and without thinking twice, he 
ran out along one of the nearby piers and hurled himself into the water. 

As he hit the wet surface, he suddenly realized that he really didn't want 
to die, but no one was around to hear his splashing struggles or his screams 
for help. 

Kling yelled for what seemed like an eternity as he tried clawing his way up 
the lichen-slippery pilings along the docks. But he was unable to pull 
himself up, and his water-logged clothing slowly began pulling him under. He 
had splinters under his fingernails as he sank for the last time. 

Meanwhile, Norris was walking south along the docks, about a mile from where 
Kling had jumped into the water. Here, along the docks, it was almost cold. 
Winter was coming rapidly, and soon it would be freezing. 

As he walked, he saw a halo of gold ahead of him. It seemingly bounced and 
wavered, getting brighter rather than dimmer as it passed beneath street 
lamps. As he got closer, he realized it was hair, the golden hair of a 
female. Whoever it was, was heading for the end of a dock. 

"No," Norris thought to himself hurrying toward the gold hair. He wasn't 
about to be a willing witness to someone taking their life. His frantic 
footsteps on the wooden dock drew the girl's attention, and she turned to 
see who was following her. Under normal circumstances, she might have been 
terrified, but she was so despondent and bent on suicide, she didn't care. 
She just stood there, on the edge of the dock, as Norris approached. He was 
directly under a street lamp when he stopped, and she had her first good 
glimpse of the almost-wizened looking man. 

"Wh-who are you?" she stammered. 

"Nobody important," he assured her. 

"Go away." 

"No." 

"Go away, damn you," 

"No. I've never watched anyone jump before," he told her. "Go on," he 
prodded. "It should be interesting." 

"Y-you're crazy," she gasped in her girlish voice. 

Now that Norris had had a chance to look at her, he realized she was no 
youngster. She had to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Still, 
she was beautiful, really beautiful. He wondered why such a lovely woman 
would want to kill herself. 

"You're the one who's going to jump, and you call me crazy?" Norris mocked. 

"Suicide is a personal thing," she insisted. 

"Suicide is a stupid thing," was his reply. "Nothing is worth taking your 
life for. Nothing is so bad that it can't be worked out." 

"You're mistaken," the beautiful blonde disagreed. "Now please go away." 

"Do me a favor," Norris requested. "Come with me, talk to me over a cup of 
coffee. If it's as bad ad you say, we'll commit suicide together." 

"You really are crazy," the blond shook her head in disbelief. 

"Crazy Norris, that's me," he agreed. "What's your name?" 

"Diane," she replied. "Diane Kaye." 

"Well, Diane Kaye, come, we'll sip coffee. It's a lot better than wallowing 
around in that cold water. If we drink enough caffeine, we'll do just as 
good a job of killing ourselves." 

Unable to help herself, Diane giggled. Miserable as she was feeling, there 
was something about the man that made her smile against her will. 

"Come!" Seeing her weakening, Norris held out a hand. 

Diane didn't want to respond, yet found herself lifting her hand placing it 
in Norris'. His fingers gently curled around hers, but he didn't tug. He 
waited patiently for her to step forward, away from the edge of the dock, 
and move toward him. 

Fifteen minutes later, they walked into a STEAK & BREW on the Great White 
Way. In addition to the cup of coffee, Diane also allowed Norris to buy her 
a steak. He ate one as well. 

"Now," Norris said, after they had finished eating, "tell me what all this 
is about?" 

"I was married," Diane answered, looking down and not at Norris. "I had a 
wonderful marriage, wonderful kids. Well, to make a long story short, my 
husband had this friend, and this friend wanted me. I told him to take 9 
hike, but the friend didn't give up. He went to my husband, told him all 
kinds of lies about me and showed him doctored photos, supposedly of me, in 
bed with a motorcycle gang, taking on three and four men at once." 

"My husband refused to believe I wasn't involved. He divorced me, took the 
children and the house. He left me with nothing, no alimony, nothing. 

"When I tried seeing my children, he had a court order issued saying I was 
an unfit mother. When I tried finding work, he sent word around that I was a 
tramp, so the only people willing to hire me were people who wanted to use 
me. It got so depressing, no matter how hard I tried." 

"So you tried killing yourself?" Norris asked. 

"Why should I go on living?" Diane asked, lifting her big, brown girlish 
eyes to meet him. 

"Because as long as you do live, there's always the hope something can be 
done to change things," Norris told her. "Kill yourself, and your children 
will never see their mother again. Your husband is a fool. Where are you 
staying?" 

"Nowhere," Diane shrugged dejectedly. "I had a little money, and I stayed at 
a boarding house for about two weeks. When my money ran out, the owner kept 
my clothes. I have nowhere to go." 

"You can come with me," Norris told her. 

"Where?" she asked. 

"As long as it's not the bottom of the river, should you care?" 

"Please;" she pleaded, "I'd rather be dead than lose my self-respect." 

"Do you really think I would take advantage of you?" he asked. 

"She looked at him long and hard for a moment, then murmured, "No, no I 
don't. It's just ... it's just that so many men have...." she trailed off. 

"Hush!" Norris insisted. "I have a big empty house with many bedrooms. Other 
than my own, you can have your pick of any one of them. We'll put you back 
on your feet, and then you can decide what to do." 

"This is sort of a loan, right?" Diane asked. "I mean, I have to pay you 
back, right?" 

"Naturally," Norris nodded, knowing he had to assuage her ego at the moment. 
Assure her she had the right to repay him, if she wished. He didn't know 
shy, but he felt something tugging at him when he looked at her. She was so 
helpless, yet so lovely. 

It was more than the feeling of a father for a daughter. Norris felt stir 
rings in him he hadn't know for many years-not since he had stopped making 
love to his wife. But he would not try taking advantage of the girl. She 
needed his help, and he would offer it to her. She was in dire straits at 
the moment, and he would not add to her misery. 

It wasn't love. She was too young for him. Besides, love didn't blossom this 
quickly. Still, he treated her as if she were his new found love. He took 
her home to his Westchester estate and showed her around the large home 
where he lived, the lavish rooms. He told her to treat the place as If it 
were her very own. He even helped her select a bedroom. When she insisted it 
be next to his, he tried moving her to the other end of the house, but she 
was adamant that she felt safe being near him. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Norris waited while the girl used the shower at the end of the hall. When he 
was certain, she was safe in the cocoon of her new bed, he decided it was 
time for him to relax and get some sleep. However, Norris was all wrought up 
and sleep eluded him. He needed to relax, so he decided to take a sauna. He 
didn't use the sauna that often, but now and again, it was good for baking 
out the aches and pains of the day. 

Setting the burglar alarms to keep intruders out, Norris made his way down 
to his basement, a finished basement, where he walked across the black and 
yellow tiled floor to the little room which housed the sauna. 

After setting the sauna controls, he undressed while waiting until the 
temperature was just right. He had brought his robe with him so he wouldn't 
have to dress to go back upstairs. 

A few moments later, he stepped naked into the heated sauna where he was met 
by a blast of hot air which overwhelmingly slammed into his body. He waited 
a moment to acclimatize himself to the heat, then walked over to a wooden 
wall bench and sat, letting the sweat pour freely out of him. 

He lay back, shutting his eyes, as he let the worries of the day disappear. 
Heat oozed through him, and slowly, his body began to calm down. 

Suddenly, a blast of cool air hit him, causing him to shiver. He heard the 
click of the sauna door as it shut, and sitting up, the totally naked man 
found himself staring at an equally naked Diane. 

God! She was breathtaking to behold! Her flesh was the color of cream, with 
just the slightest touch of rosiness that meant health. She had firm, 
grapefruit-like breasts with nipples that still pointed straight ahead with 
no hint of sag. The hairs at her pelvis were as gold as those on her lovely 
head, revealing she was a true blonde. 

He sat up abruptly. It took an effort on his part not to cover his genitals. 
The. girl stared at him, not smiling, but no longer the sorry creature he 
had recently kept from jumping into the river. 

She took a step forward, and he saw the rich pink under the golden fuzz on 
her pelvis. "Norris!" she murmured softly, her eyes flashing in a sensual 
manner. "You took me in," she whispered. "You didn't ask questions, you 
didn't make any conditions. You kept me from killing myself. I don't know 
why, but I do know I'd never be able to live with myself if I simply took 
without giving." 

She moved toward him with slow, deliberate steps, her wide hips moving in an 
almost exaggerated fashion. Then she was standing over him, her rich eyes 
staring down into his, and Norris quivered. He wanted her so much, yet she 
had to answer his questions before he'd allow anything to progress. 

"Please, Diane," Norris whispered hoarsely. "I'm an old man, an ugly man. 
What do you want from me?" 

"You're only as old as you believe yourself to be," Diane countered. "To me, 
you're the handsomest man in the world. I'm not just doing this out of 
gratitude. I feel something for you, maybe love, I don't know. My husband is 
the only other man with whom I've ever slept. Norris, if you say no to me, 
you'll drive me right back to the depths of despair." 

Norris had no desire to say no. His wife had been lovely, but never, even at 
her best, had she had a body like this. But it was more than the body, more 
than the girlish voice, more than her beauty. It was the woman herself. 
There was that certain something about her that caused Norris to feel 
feelings he had not felt since his wife. He was too pragmatic to believe she 
would stay long enough for it to turn to love, but this was the way love had 
begun for him once before, many years earlier. 

Diane caressed the side of his face, and before he was able to physically 
react, she leaned forward, her full breasts dangling enticingly before him. 
His eyes tried staring between the rounded globes, but her dangling nipples, 
like ripe fruit, drew his stare to one breast tip then the other. 

Then Diane leaned down even more, and her face blocked his view as her mouth 
pressed to his lips, her dainty tongue flicking against his, taunting his 
own tongue and teasing his teeth as she gently aroused him. 

Unsure whether or not to give free rein to his desire still in somewhat of a 
state of shock, Norris simply remained where he was, feeling a lurch in his 
groin. He knew his cock was suddenly standing at full mast, something that 
hadn't happened since he had last been with his wife. 

The blonde's inciting oral digit continued flicking through his mouth as her 
trickling fingers slid across his neck and then to his naked shoulders. They 
rested there for a moment, her fingertips drawing small circles on his 
flesh, then continued their journey, her palms sliding across his chest, 
massaging him. 

"Norris," the beautiful blonde whispered again, speaking into his mouth, 
"it's not just gratitude, believe me. My husband, at his best, never showed 
me the kind of concern you showed me. All of us respond to people who show 
us love. Although I didn't realize it until tonight, I never knew what it 
was to receive love, even though I tried hard to give it to my husband, he 
never really cared. If he cared, he never could have believed those lies 
about me. You're a man who does care. Norris, take what I have to offer. 
Don't turn it down, please. I'm offering it with all my heart. In letting me 
give you some of this love I've had stored up inside me, you'll be doing me 
the biggest favor in the world. Please!" 

"Diane," Norris murmured raggedly. "Love is something that takes time, lots 
of time...." 

"Why?" Diane asked, kissing him again. "Why must we wait days, weeks, or 
even months. For the first time in my life, I know something is right. 
Norris, this isn't payment. I want to live with you, always. I haven't the 
right to ask you to commit yourself to me legally, but I'll be only too 
happy to work for you, to clean your home...." 

"No," Norris murmured. "I have maids to do that. I'll take you to work with 
me, teach you a business, so one day you'll take my place when .. 

"When you retire," she finished, refusing to let him hint at the idea of 
dying. 

"But you're still so young and lovely, and I'm a dried up...." 

"Really?" she asked, her hand moving lower and caressing his stiff cock, 
making it shudder, its rich purple tip turning a shade darker as more blood 
filled it. "I want it, Norris. Why it's bigger than the one sported by my 
husband. I'll bet you're more of a man than he'll ever be. I want to be your 
lover," she insisted, kneeling in front of him. 

Her hands caressed his weighty testicles, making him tremble even more. She 
had a delicacy about her that reminded him so much of his departed wife. As 
her nails ran delicately along the underside of his prick, he gasped and 
jerked forward. 

"It's so beautiful, Norris," she breathed. "I swear to you, it's only the 
second male erection I've ever seen, but compared to my husband's, it's so 
masculine." Her eyes were riveted on the palpitating stalk, her nails 
gently, lovingly, teasingly moving up and down along its length. 

"But someday you'll tire of an old man like me...." 

"I'll never be tired of any man who loves me," Diane insisted. "My husband 
treated me shabbily, and I still showed him love. I cared for my children, 
washed, cooked, cleaned, and learned to be an expert at making love from a 
host of books I read. But it was never appreciated by the man. All he cared 
about was what some liar told him. I've never had anything to do with any 
other man-until now. Norris, I'm yours if you want me. I'll be yours as long 
as you wish;." 

His pulsing prick twitched with livid anticipation, while the feathery tips 
of her sweet fingers continually taunted the rich magenta head. The older 
man moaned softly as the beautiful blonde began swirling a fingertip around 
the penile head, making it twitch. Diane's other hand reached down and 
cupped the sac of his testicles, her thumb rubbing up and down the wrinkled 
container. In the hot room, her sweaty palm was still relatively cool. She 
squeezed the head of his cock lightly between pinched fingers as her other 
hand rolled the stones of his balls in her balm. His throbbing shaft jerked 
all the more strongly, and a tiny drop of clear fluid oozed from the narrow 
hole in the tip. 

"Please," Norris croaked, "think about what you're doing. You're so lovely, 
still so young. Don't throw yourself away on an old man like me. You can do 
so much better for yourself." 

"No, you think about it," Diane insisted. "I don't need a lot of time to 
think about something like this. You feel the same magnetic attraction I 
feel. I swear by my life, I'll never sleep with any other man as long as I'm 
with you. From now on I live to make you happy. Allow me to lavish some love 
on you. 

She leaned forward and pressed a hungry closed-mouth kiss against the under 
side of his organ. Then her mouth opened, and she popped the nut-like head 
between her lips and sucked, draining away some of the colorless lubricant. 
Her flicking tongue, against the webbing where the underside of his corona 
met the rest of his prick, produced even more fluid. 

When her head eased back, a smear of colorless oil on her cheek, she smiled 
and got to her feet, murmuring, "You want me, Norris, I know! That wonderful 
cock of yours isn't capable to lying." 

She came closer to him, one of her hands reaching out to cup the nape of his 
neck. She pulled him closer, offering the tip of her left breast to his 
mouth. 

"Suck my nipple, Norris, suck it, please ... please" 

His mouth opened as if of its own volition, accepting the wonderful offering 
of her delectable nipple. It was a rich pink button that swelled into a 
nubbin when his lips closed around it. He pursed his lips and began sucking 
strongly. 

"God!" Diane gasped. "That feels wonderful! Her body swayed, and she shoved 
more of the milk-white breast flesh into his hungering lips. "Mmmmm! It's 
more wonderful than I had ever dreamed. 

Norris wanted this wonderful blonde. 

He instinctively knew that she was telling the truth about him being only 
the second man to touch her. It meant a lot to him. He wanted to bury his 
bone-hard length of cock into the tight tunnel of her steamy cunt. 

"Your finger," she urged. "Touch me down there first with your finger. Make 
me nice and wet so I can accept the thickness of your cock. Finger-fuck me 
Norris!" 

Moved by a raging desire that mounted ever higher, he let his finger wander 
between her labia. Leakage came spilling down on his hand, making him aware 
the heat was not on his side alone. She was in dire need of sexual relief, 
and Norris realized that she truly wanted him. 

Diane quaked in response to the probe of his middle finger as it sawed in 
and out of the tight succulent trench between her thighs. Then she was 
reaching down, gripping his wrist, and slowly withdrawing her finger from 
the sucking center of her womanhood. "Please!" she whispered feverishly, "I 
want to feel what it's like to have your cock inside me!" 

As Morris sat back on the wooden bench, his back firmly supported by the 
sauna wall behind him, she eased his legs together with his cock firmly 
standing between them. She spread her own thighs, slowly, very slowly 
lowering her lovely body onto his lap. The still column of his vibrating 
cock now shuddered against the pink well of her cunt. 

Carefully, Diane raised her feet so the soles were planted on the bench, and 
her buttocks were all but digging against Norris' thighs. Her knees seemed 
to run vertically up the wall on either side of him as she edged forward, 
her arms around his neck to keep her upper self from falling back. She 
tugged herself forward just a little, rubbing the pouting lips of her sweet 
vulva against the upthrust staff of his quaking cock. 

Norris could scarcely believe a girl this innocent in appearance was so 
skilled and knowledgeable when it came to sex. But then, she had been 
married and had admitted to reading about a lot of ways to try to keep her 
husband's interest. In her quest to please her husband, she had become and 
out-and-out expert in the ways of sex. 

Her left hand let go of his neck as she reached under her buttocks to grasp 
the meaty shaft of his marvelous cock. Norris watched as the girl maneuvered 
the hammering crown of his sex organ between the waiting splayed lips of her 
feminine gash. 

Slowly, very slowly, she began lowering her slick, hot cunt around the 
upward brad of his cock. Norris looked down and was greeted by the erotic 
vision of his pulsing penile prodder slowly disappearing into the gapping 
maw of her tight oily clamps. As Diane slipped down those last precious 
inches, a want such as he had never known before, even with his beloved 
wife, filled him. There was a lust here that transcended love itself. Unless 
he was really falling in love with this young gorgeous creature. 

This woman was fabulous. Her clinging cunt was like a glove. Her inner 
membranes stretching to fit over his prick like a condom. Her pelvic muscles 
squeezing, massaging his throbbing root, lodged securely in the luxurious 
folds of her inner core. 

Norris' 'balls lurched up and down. The fact that he was entrenched in a 
cunt after years of self-imposed abstinence had him hotter than the 
proverbial firecracker. Hell! He felt like a young kid getting his first 
piece of ass. But he had to do something in a hurry to bring her to his own 
level of arousal, or he would be unleashing his sperm inside her before she 
was ready. 

His left hand slowly drifted down until he found the excited nubbin of her 
clitoris, and he began massaging it firmly. 

"Ohhhh ... yes, Norris, yes ... ," she moaned. She lifted her body, inch by 
inch, stopping only when his glans was all that was left inside her. Then 
she lowered herself, falling like a ten ton safe. She rose once again, 
sucking his life essence out through the tip of his cock, and this time 
lowered herself very slowly, swallowing his hard cock into the pulsing 
refuge of her slavering vagina. All the while, he kept a finger working 
fervidly against the bud of her clitoris. 

The pressure against her clitoris was working, and her own fervor was 
mounting to match his. She rose and fell with greater rapidity, slamming 
harder against his thighs. Her moans grew into one long, loud whimper, her 
pelvis twisting, turning, undulating and writhing, squeezing then relaxing 
inside, milking her newfound lover with tantalizingly tight contractions. 

Sizzling charges of lust threatened to consume Diane. She bucked insanely, 
jerking up and down, totally out of control, surrendering herself totally 
for the first time to pure fucking. 

She cried out as she came, her entire body a single unit of pure release. 
"Now!" she begged, grunting. "Give it to me now, Norris!" 

And give it to her, he did, spewing sperm uncontrollably into the center of 
her creaming cunt. Hot thick fountains of sauce spurted from the hole in the 
tip of his cock, filling the chalice of her vagina. He filled her with every 
last drop of seed in his body, and at the same moment felt his strength ebb. 
He simply sagged against the wall. 

Diane, herself totally beat, fell against him, having given herself up to 
orgasm as never before. This sweet man had offered her more in this one 
coupling than she had ever known in all the experiences she had shared with 
her husband. 

"Norris," she whispered, pressing herself close to his sweat-sticky chest. 
"Norris, I know this sounds crazy, but I think I'm madly in love with you, a 
man old enough to be my father." 

"I'm almost old enough to be your grandfather," he taunted, though both knew 
it was untrue. 

"What does age matter, Norris?" she questioned. "For the first time in my 
life, I feel rapture and bliss." 

"Don't get sloppily sentimental," Norris teased. 

"You love me, too, Norris," she insisted. 

"Love is something that grows over a period of time. Right now I lust you, 
Diane." 

"I have the feeling it's a lust that's going to get bigger as time goes by," 
she insisted. 

"What makes you so certain?" he wanted to know. 

"I measure lust by the growth of a prick," she replied 

"So?" 

"So, you just came, right?" 

"Yea." 

"Then how come your prick is already starting to grow inside me? Oh Norris, 
I think we're going to have a wonderful future together if you just let it 
happen." 

She was pushing, straining for a commitment from him. It was obvious she was 
afraid to go out into the world alone again. She needn't have worried. She 
had a home with him as long as she wished. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Though George Hyde had a large office, it was crowded that Saturday 
afternoon. Moira, her mother, and Rocco Simmons, the private eye were 
already there when Jane and Hugh Walker arrived. A few minutes later, the 
notorious Queen Bee walked in, a slim, sinuous woman with the dangerous kind 
of beauty that made men flock to her, even with the knowledge that coupling 
with her might result in death. She had large dark eyes and a short 
turned-up nose. Today, she was dressed all in yellow, which complimented her 
dark-brown hair. 

With her was her personal bodyguard, Geoffrey, a hulking man with a high 
forehead and a ring of fuzz representing a beard and small mustache. 
Geoffrey was always silent, always dangerous. He worshipped the ground Marla 
LaValle walked on. A devoted, silent slave, he would kill, if necessary, at 
her command and never question why. 

Norris Allman was there, and with him was Diane. He and Diane had enjoyed a 
total of three orgasms apiece before finally going to bed. Diane never went 
back to the bedroom assigned to her. She slept with Norris in the kingsized 
bed he had in his master bedroom. 

The moment Diane saw Moira, she decided she liked her face. There was no 
reason or explanation for it. She simply liked Moira's face, and when Moira 
looked her way, Diane smiled. Moira, returned the smile. 

George Hyde welcomed everyone and sat them in assigned seats. "We're all 
here, so I'll go about reading the will." 

"Get to the bequests," Jane snapped. 

George nodded and began reading. 

"FIRST, I ACKNOWLEDGE ONCE AND FOR ALL THAT JANE WALKER, BORN JANE STARR, IS 
INDEED MY DAUGHTER OUT OF WEDLOCK, AND NOT MY BROTHER'S DAUGHTER. I REFUSED 
TO ACKNOWLEDGE HER IN THE BEGINNING BECAUSE HER MOTHER WAS A ROTTEN WOMAN. 
THEN, WHEN I FELT A SOFTENING TOWARD JANE, SHE TOOK ON HER MOTHER'S 
ATTITUDE, MAKING ME DESPISE HER, AS WELL. HOWEVER, SHE IS MY DAUGHTER, AND 
AS SUCH, DESERVES RECOGNITION. TO THAT END, I BEQUEATH TO MY ELDEST DAUGHTER 
THE SUM OF ONE MILLION DOLLARS ANNUALLY, TO BE SPENT ANY WAY SHE WISHES. 
HOWEVER, SHOULD SHE QUESTION MOIRA'S RIGHT TO THAT WHICH I LEAVE MY SECOND 
DAUGHTER, THE MILLION IS TO BE FORFEITED, AND SHE IS TO RECEIVE NOTHING." 

Jane sat unmoving. When her hand twitched, her husband grabbed and held it. 
Inwardly, she was seething. A million dollars a year? That might seem like a 
fortune to some, but it was peanuts compared to control of Starr Industries. 
Harry Starr's personal income each year had exceeded eight figures-after 
taxes, and Jane, as the eldest daughter, felt she had a right to all that 
money. She'd keep her mouth shut for now, though. 

"IF," George Hyde continued reading, "JANE LEGALLY CONTESTS MY WILL IN ANY 
WAY, ALL BEQUESTS TO HER ARE TO BE NULL AND VOID." 

"TO NORRIS ALLMAN, MY FAITHFUL ACCOUNTANT WHO WAS THE WATCHDOG OF STARR 
INDUSTRIES, I BEQUEATH THE LIKE SUM OF A MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR OVER AND 
ABOVE HIS EARNINGS, PROVIDED HE CONTINUES TO WORK FOR MY DAUGHTER AS 
FAITHFULLY AS HE DID FOR ME. AND PROVIDED HE TRAINS SOMEONE TO TAKE HIS 
PLACE-SOMEONE WHO MY DAUGHTER, MOIRA, WILL BE ABLE TO TRUST AS SURELY AS I 
HAVE TRUSTED HIM. NO MAN EVER HAD A MORE FAITHFUL WORKER." 

"THE BALANCE OF MY ESTATE, INCLUDING CONTROL OVER STARR INDUSTRIES, I LEAVE 
TO MY DAUGHTER MOIRA, BUT UNDER THE FOLLOWING CONDITIONS: FIRST, IF SHE IS 
MARRIED AT THE READING OF THIS WILL, SHE IS NOT TO CONTEMPLATE DIVORCE. 
EMOTIONAL UPHEAVALS, I LEARNED ONLY TOO WELL, CAN CAUSE MANY BUSINESS 
MISTAKES. IF, HOWEVER, MY DAUGHTER IS NOT MARRIED, SHE MUST SUBMIT TO A 
MEDICAL EXAMINATION FOLLOWING THE READING OF THIS WILL TO PROVE HER 
VIRGINITY. I WILL NOT HAVE MY DAUGHTER TURN INTO A TRAMP LIKE HER MOTHER AND 
JANE'S MOTHER. IN LIFE, I WAS AN OLD-FASHIONED MAN WITH OLD-FASHIONED 
BELIEFS, AND MORALITY WAS ONE OF THEM IF MOIRA PROVES NOT TO BE A VIRGIN, 
THEN CONTROL OF STARR INDUSTRIES IS TO IMMEDIATELY GO TO JANE, WHO I KNOW TO 
BE MARRIED." 

A hard glitter twinkled in Jane's eyes. At last, at last she had a weapon to 
use against Moira without being directly involved in any way. She knew Moira 
once had a hankering for Hughie. Well, she would not see to it that Hughie 
gratified that hankering. 

"IF, AFTER AN EXAMINATION, MY DAUGHTER, MOIRA, IS FOUND TO BE PURE, SHE WILL 
TAKE OVER LEADERSHIP OF STARR INDUSTRIES. HOWEVER, A SINGLE WOMAN CANNOT 
LONG REMAIN STABLE IN THE BUSINESS WORLD. A GOOD WOMAN NEEDS A HUSBAND TO 
KEEP HER CONTENTED. THEREFORE, WITHIN ONE MONTH FROM THE DATE OF THE READING 
OF THIS WILL, MOIRA WILL BE MARRIED, OR SHE WILL LOSE CONTROL OF STARR 
INDUSTRIES. IF SHE IS UNABLE TO SELECT A MAN, HERSELF, MY ATTORNEY, GEORGE 
HYDE, IS TO CHOOSE ONE FOR HER. SHOULD MOIRA REFUSE TO MARRY BY THAT TIME, 
SHE WILL ONCE AGAIN LOSE HER INHERITANCE TO HER HALF-SISTER." 

Moira winced. She didn't know any man she wanted to marry. This wasn't fair! 
What was her father doing to her?" 

"FURTHERMORE," George Hyde continued reading, SHOULD MOIRA, FOR ANY REASON, 
LOSE HER VIRGINITY PRIOR TO HER MARRIAGE, SHE IS TO FORFEIT HER INHERITANCE 
TO HER HALF-SISTER. MOIRA WILL, THEREFORE, SUBMIT TO A WEEKLY EXAMINATION, 
FOLLOWING THE INITIAL ONE, UNTIL SHE IS MARRIED." 

"IN ORDER TO QUALIFY AS A LEADER OF STARR INDUSTRIES, MOIRA IS TO MOVE OUT 
OF HER MOTHER'S HOME AND TAKE OVER MY PENTHOUSE AT THE TOP OF THE STARR 
BUILDING. SHE IS TO MOVE INTO THE TOWER IMMEDIATELY. SHE WILL NOT ONLY LIVE 
THERE, BUT FROM THERE WILL CONTROL STARR INDUSTRIES. THE TOWER OF POWER WILL 
CONTINUE TO PROVE TO BE WELL NAMED." 

"TO MICKY, MY ONLY LEGAL WIFE, I LEAVE THE HOME ON WHICH I HAVE BEEN PAYING 
TAXES ALL THESE YEARS. MOIRA IS TO CONTINUE PAYING THE TAXES ON THE HOME. 
UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS MICKY TO BE ALLOWED TO LIVE IN THE TOWER. MOIRA 
MAY VISIT HER MOTHER FROM TIME TO TIME, BUT SHE MUST NOT LIVE IN THAT HOME 
ANY LONGER. THE TOWER WILL BE HER HOME." 

"That's about it," George Hyde concluded. "Well, Moira, are you agreed?" 

"She agrees," Micky all but shouted. 

"But mother...." Moira gasped. 

"The power is there," Micky replied. "It's time to cut the apron strings. 
You're twenty-six and should be on your own." 

"Fine," George Hyde nodded. "Then Moira, you have to visit a gynecologist 
today. Rocco, have you picked one out?" 

The bespectacled P.I. nodded, saying, "I'll take her there myself." 

"Who arc you?" Moira asked, a little frightened. 

"Calm down," George Hyde said to her. "He's your new bodyguard." 

"You're kidding," Moira laughed. "Why do I need a bodyguard?" 

"There are those who would love to see to it that you lose your 
inheritance," George told her. "Rocco will make certain it doesn't happen. 
From now on, or at least from the time the gynecologist pronounces you a 
virgin, that hymen of yours will be guarded day and night." 

"You knew all about this, didn't you," Moira accused her mother. 

"Yes," Micky nodded. "That's why I wouldn't let you do anything with all 
those boys you dated. You have power now, Moira, lots of power. Power to do 
anything you want." 

"But I have to get married in the next month, and I have no idea...." 

"Everything will work out," her mother assured her. 

"Norris," George said to the head accountant, "have you any idea who you'll 
train to take your place?" 

"Diane," Norris replied, nodding at the blonde at his side. "She's highly 
intelligent. Over a period of time, she'll do as good a job as I've done." 

"Do you agree?" George asked Diane. 

"Y-yes," Diane assented when Norris nodded at her. 

"Does Diane meet with your approval, Moira?" George questioned. 

"I'm sure she'll be perfect," Moira smiled her approval at Diane. 

"Fine. Jane, are you going to contest your father's will?" 

"No." Jane sullenly replied. "But I want to talk to you, George." 

"Stick around, then," George nodded as most of the others rose to leave. 

Rocco nodded at Moira while looking at the Queen Bee. Marla LaValle merely 
nodded back and quietly whispered to her bodyguard. The giant, Geoffrey 
listened, then nodded. 

"Who is she?" Moira asked Rocco, referring to the Queen Bee. 

"She's your one guarantee of protection. Come on, I have to take you to the 
doctor. Don't worry, he can be trusted." 

As they walked out, Moira's mother following, Jane whispered to her husband, 
"Hughie, follow her, then call me when she settles down in one place. My 
bitchy half-sister is about to lose her virginity whether she likes it or 
not." 

"Don't do anything to forfeit that million a year," Hugh cautioned. 

"All or nothing, Hughie, baby," Jane snapped. "Now move your ass!" 

Except for his wife and George Hyde, Hugh Walker was the last person to 
leave the attorney's office. He knew Jane, knew her only too well. When she 
got a bug up her ass, there was no way to get it out So he shrugged and 
simply accepted what was going to happen. He was surprised her father hadn't 
known that Jane screwed around on the side. He was surprised there hadn't 
been some clause in the will concerning her fidelity. 

As soon as Hugh was gone, Jane locked the office door, then turned to George 
Hyde and said, "I promised I'd make it memorable for you if the will turned 
out to be good news, George. I think that was rotten news." 

"Your father wanted to leave you out altogether, and I convinced him 
otherwise. That should be enough to put you in my debt, Jane," George 
insisted. 

"You bastard," she raged. "I don't owe you shit!" 

"You owe me your cunt," George replied, "and I'm going to collect." You know 
I'm telling you the truth. I not only had him mention you for that million a 
year, but it was my idea to make you the next heir in case something 
happened to Moira." 

Jane paused for a moment. At this point, it was important to keep George 
Hyde on her side. She had to convince him that, if anything did happen to 
Moira, she, herself, was not involved. 

George walked over to the wide leather couch at the far end of his office, 
and sat, motioning for her to do the same. She did so, and abruptly, he put 
a hand on her knee, saying, "I promised you something worthwhile, and a 
million a year is not exactly a kick in the ass, considering Harry might 
have left you a whole lot of nothing. I've been after that ass of yours for 
some time now. I think the first installment of what you owe me is due about 
now." 

His hand had been constantly moving higher as he talked, and now his fingers 
traversed the elastic legband of her panties, probing the bare, shaven 
pussy. Finally finding the soft, moist pink slash below her pelvic mound, 
the fingers delved a bit farther, finding the hot button that was Jane's 
clitoris. It throbbed slightly as the ball of one finger pressed against it. 

Jane felt Shockwaves shoot through her as he massaged her clitoris in its 
soft, protective canopy of flesh. She leaned back, splaying her legs wider 
apart, tilting her pelvis invitingly upward, offering George full access. 

"Damn you, George," she moaned. "I wish I weren't so addicted to sex." 

She reached for him, then. Boldly, knowingly, her delicate fingertips moved 
down to his crotch, expertly opening his zipper, slipping inside, and 
yanking out his already hard erection, making it completely available. A 
hot, delicious tremor shot through her as she gazed at it's thickness, 
admittedly greater than many she had known. Her pelvis undulated as her 
inner loins became ignited with intense flame. There was no turning back at 
this point. 

Reaching around George, she began unbuckling his belt. Her hands pinched his 
butt, making him lift it just enough so she was able to tug his pants below 
his knees. As George kicked off his shoes and shed the rest of his clothes, 
Jane got to her feet and hurriedly began removing her dress, then taking off 
her half-slip and undies, leaving on her high heals and stocking with the 
garter belt. 

She fell to her knees on the carpet, and just as George was beginning to 
anticipate some head, she lay, belly-down on the carpet, spreading her 
thighs wide. 

Placing his two hands beneath her, he hoisted her to her knees, his palms 
massaging her sweet furrow and clitoris. The white, smoothly sculpted thighs 
spread all the more, giving him even better access to her slit. 

George slowly moved his head forward, his hot breath bathing the succulent 
area, making Jane quiver. His mouth locked against the rich coral nether 
lips of her sweet vagina. His tongue flicked into her, tasting the smooth 
velvety softness of her wonderful cuntal flesh. 

The swift, sucking intake of Jane's breath was clearly audible in the 
otherwise silent room, letting him know how much she loved what he was doing 
to her. She wanted more, had to have more. Her hips pressed stolidly back 
against his face, rotating in wild circles. He whipped his lathered tongue 
through her oily pussy, rubbing the sensitive walls, the excitement of it 
mounting higher and higher as she began moaning in ecstasy. 

"Oh, God! George, yes! Do that! Eat me, George, eat me!" Her voice was a 
low, deep groan of lust as her hips twitched in time to the way his tongue 
worked through her. 

His tongue continued its salacious working, and the man's pulses were 
pounding uncontrollably, and his penis throbbed in perfect time to his 
heartbeat. Great droplets of oil fell from the burning tip. Oh Jesus! He 
needed to get his cock into her! 

"Now!" Jane cried out, as if divining his need. "Fuck me now!" 

George kneed his way closer to her, and the swollen, blood-bloated head 
slipped neatly into the wet silken opening as George gasped and thrust his 
hips forward. For all her experience, she was tight, and he had to push 
hard. 

"Ooooh ... you're so big ... so nice," Jane gasped. "Use it, Gcorgie-Porgie, 
and make me feel really good." 

Jane pushed back against the man, struggling to make things easier for him 
as he slowly entered her. He hips wriggled and gyrated in an effort to widen 
her womanly pandiculation. She literally screwed her hot cunt onto the bolt 
of his cock. It felt lovely to impale herself on what felt like an 
ever-increasing and expanding phallus. It pushed in, one inch, two inches, 
four inches, deeper, ever deeper. Then, with a final effort and a flick of 
his hips as far forward as possible, he drove into her with all his 
strength, shoving the last punishing half of his organ almost through her 
back wall. He gasped and grunted in satisfaction when his hairy pelvis 
ground against the rounded cheeks of her behind, his dangling balls swinging 
freely and grazing the shaved lips of her vagina, beating at her clitoris. 

George reached out to both of Jane's hips, holding them as he slowly began 
pushing, then pulling, pushing, then pulling, moving in and out, in and out; 
slowly at first, each time ramming his cock its full length back into her 
and pulling out until only the minaret-shaped tip was inside the dewy tunnel 
of her clinging womanhood; then with ever increasing speed and shortened 
strokes, driving with demon-like force. 

Jane hurled her buttocks back at him with equal fury, absorbing his driving 
length to the fullest with every hammering slam, reveling in the wonderful 
sensation of his magnificent power as the great, rampaging cock continued to 
fill and refill her. 

"Ggggnnnngggghhhh ... ready ... ready to come ... yesssss ... she gasped, 
her anguished hips shoving back at the length of his plunging cock as it 
continued its hurried movements. 

She was frantic in her efforts to reach satisfaction. Her body almost a blur 
as she moved more rapidly. Then, when it seemed as if she would break down 
from exhaustion, she was there. 

"I--I'MMMMM COMMIINNGG!!!" she shrieked. 

Her hands reached behind her, and then behind him, her nails digging into 
the cheeks of his ass, shoving him more tightly to her as he pounded into 
her for more wonderfully agonizing strokes. 

Then his white glue was spraying into her, surging through his hose like 
spray from a fireman's hose. 

George, out of breath, fell on top of her, and she collapsed onto the floor. 
It was one of the all-time greatest climaxes Jane had ever enjoyed, and 
George had to admit that the woman was damn good; almost as good as Micky 
Starr. 

After what seemed like a long period of time, George pulled his softened 
organ from the sticky depths of Jane's pussy. 

"You're all right, Georgie-Porgie," Jane panted. "Yes, you're all right. 
We'll have to do this more often." 

"Oh, we will," George assured her, "as long as you don't do something stupid 
like trying to take Moira's inheritance." 

"Me?" Jane asked innocently, getting dressed. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

"Be smart," George insisted. "Moira's guarded by the best in the business. 
No one's going to get to her." 

"Just keep your cool," Jane soothed. 

"Fine. Now, for the next month, if you wish, you can bring Hughie and live 
in the Tower with Moira. If, for any reason, she should forfeit her right to 
control Starr Industries, you'll be right there to take over." 

"That's a great idea," Jane smiled. "We'll move in this evening." 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

In another city, a telephone was being answered by a mysterious figure known 
only as Steve. He heard a voice at the other end say, "Steve, an envelope 
will be arriving shortly, .and in it will be twenty-five thousand dollars. 
Please follow the written instructions inside. Memorize them, then burn 
them." 

"I like to know in advance what I'm supposed to do," Steve insisted. 

"Something quite pleasant," the male voice at the other end replied. "You're 
to fuck a particular female." . 

"For that, you can get yourself some wharf rats," Steve declined the job. 

"Not at all, " the voice was quick to elaborate. "I want more than mere sex. 
It must appear the young woman is not only a willing participant, but is the 
actual aggressor. In fact, it would be even nicer if you took movies. In the 
movie, the young woman must appear downright promiscuous." 

"Is she, in real life?" Steve asked. 

"In real life, she's still a virgin," the voice replied. "That virginity 
must be taken right out of her. But it has to seem as if she's initiating 
the actions. Use your special talents." 

"It can be arranged," Steve reconsidered. "but twenty-five thousand will 
hardly suffice. To rent a decent camera will require some bucks." 

"How much?" 

"An additional fifty thousand dollars," , Steve replied. 

"Half the balance will be forthcoming in two days, the rest, when the job is 
completed." 

"Fine," Steve nodded. "I'll set everything up wherever you wish." 

"The instructions will be explicit," the voice replied. 

* * * 

Jane Walker was in the home of her friend. She wanted a backup in case Hugh 
chickened out, so she had gone to see Bonnie. 

Bonnie was a tiny little thing, with black hair, black eyes, and a 
voluptuous shape. Except for Jane, she had no female friends. The basic 
reason for their friendship was that Jane had once helped Bonnie out of jam. 
Jane knew about Bonnie's hanging around with a motorcycle gang, and she 
figured at one time or another she might have use for such people. Well, the 
time had come. 

"Well, kid, what brings you here?" Bonnie asked her friend. 

"I thought you might need some money," Jane replied. 

"A little bread always comes in handy," Bonnie nodded. 

"How about a lot of bread?" Jane asked. "Say, about five hundred." 

"Five hundred! Wow! Kurt and I could go to California with that kind of 
loot. Who do we have to kill?" 

"No one," Jane smiled. "But you might do me a small favor." 

"Hey, you just name it, Janey-baby." 

"You remember my half-sister?" 

"Yeah, what about her?" 

"How about, you get your buddy, Kurt, and his friends to gang-bang her?" 

"Hey, they'd love that," Bonnie smiled. 

"I want the boys screwing her, but the deal here is that you have to make 
her willing for it. What's more, I want it on tape. I want you to record her 
saying that she's willing." 

"No problem, Janey-baby," Bonnie smiled. "Kurt'll do anything I want. Just 
as long as I do anything he wants." 

Jane shuddered at the mental picture she had of an animal like Kurt putting 
his hands on her. Not that he was bad-looking. A high forehead, a 
Hitler-style mustache. But he also had a Hitler attitude about everything. 
He had loads of iron crosses decorating his bike, as well as the usual 
swastikas. 

"This is my half-sister's picture," Jane went on, showing Bonnie a newspaper 
photo of Moira. She handed Bonnie another piece of paper, saying, "As of 
this evening, this will be her address. She'll be inaccessible in that 
tower, but try and grab her when she comes out. As I understand it, she'll 
be in the back of a blue Mercedes limousine with a license plate saying 
STARR." 

"Got it!" Bonnie nodded. "Consider the chick well-fucked." 

"I figured I'd be able to depend on you, Bonnie." 

"Hey, what are chums for?" Bonnie asked as she showed Jane to the door. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

The Starr building was a marvel of engineering, years ahead of its time. It 
was made of marble, shaped like a con-' cave cone rising to a point. 

The second floor from the top was where Harry Starr had kept his own private 
business offices. There were fifteen rooms in the duplex tower. Each had its 
own private TV monitor from which business might be conducted, if necessary. 
Even in his living quarters, Harry Starr had kept an eye on everything. 

Moira stood on the threshold of the living room and stared. The place was 
more luxurious than most palaces. The finest woods made up the furniture and 
the finest wool went into the carpeting. The draperies were heavy velvet, 
all a royal purple to match the carpeting. 

Her father's bedroom was an austere room, matching his character. Unable to 
find a faithful woman, he had been known to take a variety of women to his 
bedroom, each for only one night. After a single time, he simply paid her 
off and sent her on her way. 

"I want the canopy off the king bed," Moira told Seymour, her father's and 
now her own butler. 

Seymour was a short man with white hair. At first glance, he seemed 
nondescript, but his blazing eyes allowed nothing to get away. He had also 
served as a part-time bodyguard to Harry Starr, and would do the same for 
the man's daughter. He too would make sure she had no sexual encounters with 
anyone in the tower until she was married. 

"Yes," Miss Moira," he acknowledged her request. 

"I want mirrors on the ceiling," Moira continued. "I'm supposed to be 
married in less than a month. If I'm going to have sex with my husband, I'm 
going to enjoy it." 

She walked over to the monitor in the room and pressed a button. The screen 
came to life, and she saw Norris Allman sitting at his desk with Diane, 
explaining the basic working of his department to her. Though she didn't put 
on the audio, Moira saw Diane seemed to be catching on quickly. Good! 

Another press of the button, and she was tuned in on another department, and 
then a third, a fourth, and so on. 

"It'll take time to get the hang of all this," she said to Rocco, who had 
come to the tower with her. "I hope you have patience." 

"I'm paid to have patience," was his reply. Rocco was a handsome man, which 
Moira would be the first to admit. The man was rough around the edges, but 
he had a definite attraction. Each time she looked at him, she felt her 
heartbeat speed up a bit. But she would have to control herself. She 
controlled the most powerful organization in the business world, but only as 
long as she proved herself capable and was untouched while unmarried and 
faithful once married. 

Rocco admitted to himself that he was more than a little attracted to Moira, 
but he did have that long-standing rule about not getting personally 
involved with female clients. The girl was lovely and intelligent, but she 
was certainly naive when it came to being a female. He knew street-wise 
women who made Moira look dumb when it came to being female. 

Somehow, she seemed to be rubbing him the wrong way. Under normal 
circumstances, he would tell the client to take a hike when something like 
this happened. But it had been George Hyde who'd hired him, not Moira. 

"Shall I bring coffee?" Seymour asked. 

"A small pot should be sufficient, please. Bring two cups. I'm sure Mr. 
Simmons would like some, too." 

"Very good, Miss," Seymour nodded, and walked away. 

"You take to being boss pretty well," Rocco commented. 

"I either take complete control immediately, or they'll walk all over me," 
Moira replied. She walked into the large den, sat behind the large horseshoe 
shaped desk and began studying some of the reports on his desk. She was 
amazed at how quickly she began picking up everything, understanding it. Now 
she understood why her mother had forced her to go to business school and 
study so hard. The school of experience would now replace business school, 
but what she had learned stood her in good stead. There was still a lot to 
learn, and it would take time. She had to keep a firm, though not 
unyielding, hand at the controls until she better understood every thing. 

Rocco, watching her as she sat behind the desk, felt his pulses stir. God! 
She was some kind of woman, this one. Twenty-six, naive in so many ways, yet 
obviously smart enough to take over for her father, and ready to do so. 
Shit! Right now she was at his level, but in a little while, she would be 
real class and out of his reach. 

Christ! He felt his cock jerk. Moira was beginning to get to him, no doubt 
about it. It might be a good idea if he used some of the Queen Bee's girls 
to watch over her most of the time. 

"What are you thinking?" Moira asked astutely, seeing the way he screwed up 
his face. 

"Something personal," he replied. 

"You don't like me, do you," Moira suddenly insisted. "You think I'm a punk 
female who had no business suddenly in the business world." 

"Oh?" Rocco asked. "Are you also a mind reader?" 

"Let's be frank," Moira continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "I know 
you're being paid to guard me, but you're actually looking down on me, 
thinking I'm not much of a person if I can't look after myself, right?" 

"Cute, clever, and in need of a spanking," Rocco replied. "Don't try digging 
into my brain, lady. I'm sure you don't give a damn what I thing about you 
as long as I do my job." 

"I've never known anyone like you," Moira went on. "Ever kill anyone?" 

"At least two people a day," he answered. "I haven't reached my quota yet 
today, so don't push me." 

"I don't need snide remarks," Moira snapped. "I don't think we're going to 
get along." 

"Well, golly gee, that's going to ruin my whole day," Rocco mocked. 

"I think I'll have George Hyde replace you." 

"No refunds, lady," Rocco all but roared. "Besides, you have no complaints 
about the way I'm doing my job." 

Just then, Seymour walked in with the coffee. As he set the try down on the 
coffee table, near the sofa where Rocco was sitting, Moira called out to 
him, "Seymour, part of my father's instructions was for me to get a husband. 
Did he make a list of people he felt to be good eligible men?" 

"Yes, Miss Moira," Seymour nodded. 

"May I see it." she commanded. 

"Certainly, miss," Seymour left to do her bidding. 

Rocco starred at her, seeing the glint in her eyes. It was as if she was 
letting him know that she going to get even with him for daring to talk back 
to her by having him around when she finally made her selection of a life 
mate. He shook his head, clucking. 

"What's bothering you?" Moira asked. 

"Bothering? Nothing," Rocco replied. "I'm just amazed that you're behaving 
like such an infant." 

"I beg your pardon?" she asked. 

"What are you trying to do, get even with me by looking over a list of 
eligible males in front of me, as if to let me know a guy like me will never 
have a chance to get a woman like you?" 

"What a ridiculous idea!" Moira was indignant. 

"Tell you what," Rocco told her. "I'll have a few female bodyguards come up 
here while you start playing eeny-meeny-miney-moe with the list of 
boyfriends your father has picked out." 

"Go on," Moira challenged. "It'll just prove that in spite of the fact that 
I haven't been thinking about you at all, you are bothered by the prospect 
of my selecting an eligible male." 

"I couldn't care less how you screw up your life," Rocco shrugged, realizing 
he was coloring a bit. 

"Well, all you have to do to prove it is hang around while I start checking 
out my would-be future husbands." 

"Aaaah ... do what you want," Rocco snorted as Seymour returned with a small 
notebook and handed it to Moira. 

"Thank you, Seymour," Moira smiled. She opened the book and read. 

Rocco picked up a magazine and leafed through it. "The hell with the little 
high-handed bitch!" 

After a while, Moira rang for Seymour again and asked, "Where is the 
observation room, Seymour?" 

"It's next to the master bedroom," Seymour replied. "There's a two-way 
mirror in there. When you press a button, a panel lifts, and the master 
bedroom darkens so the people in the observation room can't see into the 
master bedroom. But you'll be able to see everything taking place in the 
observation room." 

"Are these candidates aware they'll be performing?" Moira wanted to know as 
she scanned the list again. 

"No, miss," Seymour answered. "The arrangement is to have each man enter the 
room separately on the pretext of discussing a business merger. None of them 
are aware they're marriage candidates. Otherwise, they'd only be thinking in 
terms of what they might be getting, money-wise. The observation room is to 
be used not only to view sexual performances, but to listen to their 
business acumen and see which one might have a good head for assisting you 
in the running of Star Industries." 

"Well, then," Moira smiled. Let's get the show on the road. Suppose we set 
up an appointment with Jack Acre, say for Monday. Have him here by eleven." 

"Very good, miss." Seymour nodded, "however, you should have your secretary 
take care of that. It will sound more convincing coming from the secretary 
than from myself." 

"Fine," Moira nodded. "Who is my secretary?" 

"Meg Sievers," Seymour replied. "She's off today, it being Saturday. But if 
you want her to work on a weekend, she'll do so." 

"Monday will be fine," Moira nodded, "but have her call Jack Acre and ask 
him to come here on Monday. I presume she'll do the honors in the bedroom." 

"Yes, miss," Seymour nodded. 

"You don't mind if I don't hang around to watch that sordid nonsense," Rocco 
snapped once Seymour had gone. 

"You're my bodyguard," Moira replied. "I'll expect you to do your job. If 
I'm in my bedroom, watching what takes place in the observation room. I want 
you there alongside me." 

"Next you'll have me sleeping in the same bed with you at night." 

"You wish," Moira taunted. 

"Hah!" Rocco roared. "You have to be kidding! You're a spoiled brat. I don't 
sleep with children!" 

"I'm twenty-six," Moira almost yelled. "That hardly makes me a child!" 

"Some of us take longer to mature than others," Rocco taunted. "I know of 
sixteen-year-olds who are more mature than you." 

"Just because I don't spread my legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry...." 

"Cut the bullshit!" Rocco snorted. "I'm talking about emotional maturity, 
not sexual experience. Little girls like you think they're such hot stuff, 
but in reality, you'd never turn me on." 

Rocco was lying, and he knew it. At that point Moira was too incensed to 
realize it was a defense mechanism on Rocco's part. 

"So I can't turn you on, huh?" 

"You got it, lady!" 

"We'll see," she murmured to herself. Aloud, she said, "Perhaps my secretary 
can turn you on. I want you alongside me Monday morning. As for sleeping 
arrangements, there's a large dressing-room right off my bedroom. I'll have 
a cot put in there for you." 

"Yes, ma'am," Rocco bit at her. 

He realized his fists were clenched. No woman had ever made him react this 
violently. "Damn this bitch!" he cursed her silently. 

"Now I want to visit my mother," she insisted. "Come on!" 

"Silently and sullenly, Rocco followed her to the elevator. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

The large blue Mercedes limousine moved quietly through the streets, Rocco 
at the wheel, taking place of the regular chauffeur. He looked right and 
left, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror, making certain they weren't 
being followed except by the two cars belonging to Queen Bee. He recognized 
the two woman in each car. 

Except for Geoffrey, the Queen's personal bodyguard, the only people working 
for the Queen Bee were females. They were her "workers." 

"We're almost at your mother's house," Rocco told Moira, keeping the glass 
partition between the front and read seat lowered. "We have to be careful 
now. A lot of people are out to nail you." 

"The same way you're out to nail me?" 

Moira taunted. 

"Let's just stay off the subject of me for the moment. You do everything I 
say, and you'll be all right." 

They pulled up in front of her mother's house, and Rocco immediately got out 
of the car and looked around. Once he was certain no one was hiding nearby, 
he motioned for Moira to get out. She did so, and let him around to the rear 
of the house, where she used a key to open the back door, calling out, 
"Mother, it's me!" 

She walked from the kitchen into the living room, and saw her mother tied to 
a chair. Turning, Moira saw Rocco slumping to the floor as four men stepped 
into the room holding, one holding a gun by the barrel, having just applied 
the butt to Rocco's head. 

"Not a word," the mustached man who looked like Adolph Hitler warned her. 

"What to you want?" asked a frightened Moira, the adrenaline pumping inside 
her. 

"We want you," Kurt Mills told her. 

"No!" Moira screamed as a sack was suddenly thrown over her body, pulled 
down to her ankles, and strings drawn tightly, pulling her off her feet. 

She tried to struggle, but was unable to move inside the confines of the bag 
which also effectively muffled her screams. She felt herself being tossed, 
over a shoulder and bodily carried out. 

They carried Moira through the garage and dumped her inside a waiting truck, 
then slowly drove away. Half an hour later, they were pulling up behind the 
Greasy Rose, their usual hangout. They hurriedly carried Moira inside, 
dumping her on the floor and pulling the bag off. 

"Wh-what are you going to do?" a dazed Moira gasped. 

"Me?" Kurt Mills laughed. "I'm not going to do a thing. You, you are the one 
who's going to do something." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You're going to beg us to fuck you-all of us." He showed her the tape 
recorder, putting it behind the bar, out of reach, but not out of hearing. 

"You're crazy," Moira breathed. "I'll do no such thing!" 

"You'll do it," Kurt laughed nastily. 

"I'll never do a thing like that," Moira insisted. 

"Sit down," Kurt commanded, pointing to a chair. "We can wait for days if we 
have to." 

But Kurt was mistaken. Moira didn't even have time to contemplate the 
possibility of neither food nor water. 

The front door burst open, and two women walked in, at the same time, two 
others burst through the back door. All four holding Uzi machine pistols. 

An absolutely stunning blonde, who Moira would later learn was named Fran, 
barked, "First man to move gets to heaven or hell very quickly." 

"What the hell is going on?" Kurt yelled. He always yelled when things 
didn't go his way. 

"Big mistake, trying to kidnap Moira Starr," the blonde told him in a soft, 
deadly voice. 

"A very big mistake," another voice added, and through the front door came 
Queen Bee with Rocco Simmons. 

"Oh no!" Kurt gasped. "God in heaven, no!" 

"So you know me." Marla LaValle stated. 

"I didn't hurt her," Kurt all but screamed. "I didn't rough her up at all. I 
wasn't going to harm her." 

"What were you going to do, Kurt?" 

Marla inquired. 

"I ... uhhh ... wouldn't have done anything she didn't want," the 
Hitler-faced man insisted. 

"Oh? What did you want her to want you to do?" 

"He wanted to screw me," Moira broke in, her voice surprisingly calm. 

Queen Bee smiled, "So you want some sex, eh Kurt?" 

"Hey, come on, I wouldn't have forced her," Kurt denied. 

"Of course not," Marla smiled. "I'm not going to force you to do anything 
either. In fact, we'll drink on it. Bartender," she said to the quivering 
mass standing behind the bar, "set up Mr. Mills' favorite drink. What does 
he like?" 

"B-beer," the bartender replied. 

"Well, pour a beer for Mr. Mills and all his friends," Queen Bee instructed. 
"I'll have one with them." 

The beers were poured and sent down the length of the bar. Each one passed 
Marla, whose hand passed over the tops. 

"Y-you're going to poison us," Kurt whined. 

"I don't poison good beer," Marla laughed. "Sorry, Kurt, no poison. Now 
drink up! All of you, drink with me." 

The hands of Kurt and his men were shaking as they picked up their glasses, 
but they didn't dare drop anything. They were horrified, knowing the 
reputation of Queen Bee. 

"Down the hatch!" Marla insisted. 

She tossed off her own glass of beer, and stared at Kurt, who sipped at his. 
Laughing, she snapped, "All of it, Kurt. Every last drop." 

He forced himself to drink it, as did each of his men when they saw the four 
women raise the muzzles of their guns. 

"So," Marla LaValle continued where she'd previously left off, "you're 
looking for sex. Well, I have just the woman." 

She snapped her fingers and a woman walked through the door. 

"Now look at a really beautiful woman," Marla La Valla was saying. "She's 
blonde, stunning, just right." 

Kurt stared, his head a little fuzzy. It was difficult to see through the 
haze of his mind, but as Marla LaValle talked, everything seemed to appear 
just as she said. 

"She's voluptuous, full-breasted, with a face anyone would love. What would 
you like to do to her, Kurt?" 

"I'd love to lick her cunt," Kurt gasped, unable to believe how beautiful 
the woman was, "and then ... and then." 

"Yes, Kurt?" 

"I'd love to fuck her. God! What a great face! I'm sure she had a great ass, 
too." 

"Dottie." Marla LaValle instructed. 

"Undress!" 

The beautiful woman began peeling off her low-cut dress before Kurt's eyes. 
Suddenly she was totally naked, looking even more stunning, a white-skinned 
body the way Kurt had always loved a woman to be. 

"Turn around, Dottie, let Kurt see your ass." 

In front of all the onlookers, the woman turned, and Kurt salivated. Her ass 
was exactly as he had imagined as ass should be. 

"Lie down on the bar, Dottie," Queen Bee instructed. 

Dotty walked over to the long, narrow bar and lay down, spreading her 
tantalizing alabaster thighs wide apart, revealing the rich rosy hue of the 
orifice between her legs. 

Kurt, unable to believe his good luck, stared, then slowly staggered toward 
the bar as Marla said, "You first, Kurt, then each of your men." 

"What a beautiful brunette," one of Kurt's men mumbled as he stared. 

"A gorgeous redhead," another said. 

Kurt was standing right next to her now as everyone other than Dottie and 
his men slowly filed out. 

"Will Dottie be alright?" one of the women asked, as they left. 

"Dottie is always alright," Queen Bee assured her. "She'll follow along when 
the men have finished with her." 

Kurt's hands were already moving up the soft insides of the woman's thighs 
as she squirmed on the bar and muttered, "Mmmmmm! Good!" 

Kurt slid his finger along, parting the soft, radiant golden pubic hair all 
over her sweet young slit. This was the woman of his dreams for whom he had 
waited a lifetime. 

Kurt suddenly found himself on the bar, lying against her, the dark hairs on 
his chest rubbing against her body. Her delectable pink nipples rubbed 
against him, causing sensation to charge through him. How he had become 
naked, he didn't know. If this was the way Queen Bee punished men, then Kurt 
wanted more of her punishment. 

Kurt moved his finger along the soft moist flesh, seeking and finding the 
delicate clitoris. It bobbed from side to side as he rubbed it with the ball 
of his finger. She spread her thighs all the wider, giving Kurt total access 
to her most secret inner self. 

A dizzying wave of lightheadedness swept over Kurt. Could the beer have been 
doctored? He laughed. What if it was? Hell, he'd pay to be doctored this way 
any time. He had never felt so free of tension, so eager to satisfy the 
woman he was with. 

Slowly, Kurt moved up to cover Dottie and eased into her, loving the feel of 
her beautiful flesh as it tightly encircled his stiff member. Unlike his 
usual roughshod approach to sex, Kurt was easy, gentle, savoring every 
moment. For the first time in his life, he was really conscious of the pure 
pleasure people could give to each other. 

The blonde was moaning, lost in her own pleasure, and suddenly, Kurt was 
seized with a desire to please her, to make her see that he was the best 
lover she had ever had. 

"Dottie! he whispered hoarsely as his cock twitched with pleasure. "This is 
the most wonderful experience in my life." 

"Mine, too," she whispered, placating him. "And we have Queen Bee to thank 
for it." She twisted her hips, and took as much of him into her as she 
possibly could. 

Kurt felt Dottie moving against him, imploring him to pleasure her, and he 
began moving again. Then suddenly, he realized one awful thing-he would 
never be able to face Bonnie again. 

Sweet Bonnie! Kurt's chest heaved with a deep-felt moan of regret. How could 
he have treated that semi-innocent woman the way that he had? He knew now 
that his lack of any regard for her as fellow human being was no doubt 
responsible for her personal descent into a form of negativity. Her base 
sexual appetites and practices were little more than a reflection of his own 
coarse and sordid ways. 

Hazily, Kurt heard sobbing, and as he looked around, he realized that each 
and every one of his men was experiencing very much the same thing that he 
was-a profound deeply-felt regret for wasted lives and evil deeds. Was there 
any way: any way at all that they could somehow make it up? 

Dottie was gasping for air, her pleasure so intense by Kurt's slow 
lovemaking. Her pleasure spasms encouraged Kurt to stroke faster until he 
found himself on the cliff lip of boiling orgasm. Dottie's whimpers of pure 
pleasure were the spark needed to detonate Kurt's own pent-up pleasure, and 
he gasped with delight as the first jolts made his thighs quiver and the 
hair stand up on the back of his neck. He gave himself over to the most 
powerful orgasm that perhaps any man had ever felt. 

Kurt was but dimly aware of the roar of approval that greeted his obviously 
overwhelming orgasm, and as kind hands lifted his now semi-conscious form 
from that of Dottie, Kurt felt himself smiling, totally relaxed, luxuriating 
in his newfound power to do good. 

He could hear the sounds of the others as they delighted themselves in the 
arms of the mystic Dottie. The woman who had been sent to them by unseen 
powers to initiate them into a new world of higher, ore conscious being. 
From now on his life would be dedicated to the needy, the homeless, all 
those unfortunates who needed service in the face of a hostile and selfish 
society. He knew the others would join him, and that was perhaps the 
greatest good. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Sunday proved-to be an uneventful day. Rocco was taut-faced and Moira knew 
why. She knew that he hated the thought of her having seen him lying on the 
floor of her mother's home, knocked unconscious by the band of kidnappers. 

That was what was so puzzling. How had Queen Bee been able to so quickly 
take control of that bunch? Moira had never known a more low-life group. 

She now broke the silent truce she had going with Rocco as she put that 
question to him. 

"It was easy," he replied sourly. "Her research lab is always developing new 
toxins. Mostly of the frightening and horrible sort, but sometimes their 
experiments go awry. Instead of a deadly poison, they came up with an aerial 
spray that does nothing but inspire people to do good." You saw the results 
of that spray yesterday. Of course, it has no effect on those to whom doing 
good is a part of their lives, but when sprayed in the direction of 
sub-humans, the effects can be startling." 

"But that woman...." Moira began, but Rocco cut her off. 

"She was incidental. Anything that they were involved in would have served 
the same purpose. They would have first seen the utter futility of their 
lives, then felt awesome pangs of remorse and regret for the dastardly acts 
they have committed, and finally they would surrender to a power that they 
felt was not only greater than themselves, but also a power capable of 
helping them make something out of their previously worthless lives." 

"Wow," Moira's head was reeling. So much was going on in the world that she 
didn't understand. Suddenly she knew that her father's desire for her to 
secure a life's mate was exactly what was best for her. She needed someone 
with her, someone who could be trusted, someone who she could lean on. 

She glanced at Rocco, who had turned away and was staring moodily out the 
window. She knew he was still upset by his sub-par performance. She knew 
that he was a proud man who rarely wound up on the losing end of any battle, 
and to have it happen in front of her must have been deeply galling to him. 

Moira sighed as she headed toward the den to pour over more corporate 
records. The naive girl didn't know what to say or do to put him at ease. 

* * * 

Monday proved to be something else. First, Jane insisted on moving into the 
Tower. According to the will, she had every right to do so until Moira's 
marriage, or until Moira lost control of the company and Jane could take it 
over, whichever came first. Moira had no idea how she was ever going to 
tolerate her half-sister as she hated her about as much as Jane hated Moira. 

Secondly, Monday was the day the search was to begin for her new husband. 

"1 don't like this business of watching a bunch of guys fucking your private 
secretary," a grouchy Rocco told her. 

"Well how the hell else am I supposed to know how well they perform in bed?" 
Moira retorted. 

"There's more to a marriage than the bedroom," Rocco insisted. 

"I know there is," Moira agreed hotly, "but I'll be double damned if I'm 
going to end up with some clever business partner for a husband who doesn't 
what to do with his God-given equipment! Since every one of these men is 
supposed to be near or above genius level in the business world, in that 
respect, it doesn't matter which one I choose. So, first and foremost, I 
want to find out which one is the best in bed, then I want to find out 
which, if any, has a personality that won't clash with mine. When I discover 
a man with whom I'll be sexually compatible, and I see him capable of 
blending with me on other-than-physical levels, I'll take it from there." 

"This isn't going to be easy," Rocco mumbled to himself as they walked into 
her bedroom and over to the mirror against the far wall. 

Rocco noted that her bed had already been made and there was no sign that 
Moira had slept there the previous night. However, just looking at the huge 
bed where he knew she had spent the night bothered him. Though his policy 
had always been to avoid involvement with his clientele, he knew his 
feelings for this particular woman transcended all rules and regulations. He 
told himself it was pure lust and nothing else. But if it was just lust, it 
was an overpowering lust. Perhaps part of it came from an urge to punish her 
for being so ... what? Obstinate? Stubborn? Beautiful? Tantalizing? 

Damned it all to hell, she was all those things and more! There was a 
certain something about her that elevated her head and shoulders above all 
other women he had ever known. He wanted this woman so bad, he had gone to 
bed the night before with blue balls. 

"This has got to stop!" Rocco snapped to himself, as Moira pressed the 
button that would cause a panel to slide back. The room curtains were 
automatically closed, and the room went dark. On the other side of the 
mirror, the observation room was brightly lit. 

"I can probably dig up half-a-dozen movies more arousing than what we're 
going to see," Rocco commented. 

"I have no desire to marry a movie stud," she retorted. "I want to see how 
arousing a genius-level business executive can be. He not only gets points 
for stamina, but for originality and innovation. 

At that moment, a door opened, and Meg, Moira's secretary,, walked in. She 
was a lovely girl, her brown hair cut short, punk-style. she was 
well-stacked, and the robe she was wearing did little to hide that fact. 

The door opened and closed again, and a somewhat portly man walked into the 
room. He had black hair, round cheeks, a black mustache, and was wearing a 
three-piece dark-blue suit. 

Though Moira and Rocco were able to hear what was going on in the 
observation room, they were able to speak in normal tones without being 
heard. 

Rocco took one look at the fat man and sputtered, "You have to be kidding. 
That tub of guts?" 

"Now, now, shame on you, Mr. Simmons," Moira pouted. "Since when do you 
judge a man by his weight?" 

"I don't like fat women, myself," Rocco snorted. 

"Well, let's see how well Mr. Acre can perform," Moira taunted. 

"Originality, hah!" Rocco snapped. 

"And stamina," Moira continued. 

"Oh, come on," Rocco shook his head, watching Jack Acre undress and reveal a 
body covered with layers of fat. "Do you really want to have all of that 
lying on you?" 

; 

"Hush!" Moira silenced him and turned her attention to Jack and Meg. Meg had 
also gotten undressed, revealing the lushness that had been hinted at 
beneath the robe. 

"You're a beautiful girl," Jack was heard to say. He revealed an 
extraordinarily long, thick prick with a big ruby head. It was already hard, 
which proved that he was easily aroused. 

Meg lay back on the bed and spread her thighs, fingering her vagina, saying, 
"I can take your weight, Mr. Acre. Go ahead, just throw it in me." 

"Don't be silly," was Jack's reply. "You need a bit of a warm-up. Jack eased 
between her plump thighs and bent his face to her steamy vagina. Mirrors 
positioned strategically throughout the room gave Moira and Rocco a close 
look at what was being done. Jack's bristly mustache was tickling Meg's 
labia, turning them from soft pink to rich coral, to ripe red. His tongue 
leaped out, spearing into the lovely division, and Meg jumped, letting Jack 
and the two viewers know he had touched a "hot button." 

"Ohhhh ... yes ... yes...." Meg moaned, clasping her thighs tightly around 
the man's head, tugging on his long black hair with her hands, pulling his 
face deeper into the tantalizing crevasse of her vagina. 

"He has an educated tongue," Moira remarked to Rocco. 

"He also has a lot of guts, performing this way," Rocco countered. 

"Oh he doesn't know he's being watched," Moira told him. "He merely thinks 
Meg is going to help make the choice for me." 

"He had an I.Q. of more than 140 and he believes that?" Rocco scoffed. 

"Oh shut up!" Moira snapped, reddening as they watched Jack's tongue do a 
thorough job on the tasty through between Meg's legs. 

Meg tensed, gasped and suddenly a splash of hot, colorless lubricant washed 
Jack's face. 

"My God, that was fabulous! Meg panted. 

"Only the beginning," Jack assured her. "Stand with your back to me, 
please." 

Meg did as the man asked, while he smilingly walked over to a large easy 
chair in the room and sat in it. 

"Now, back up toward me," he requested. 

The girl did as he asked, her thighs hitting his knees. He made sure she was 
bent forward, then bending forward himself, he used his thumbs to part her 
brown-fuzzed cunt and once again applied his tongue, delving into the sweet 
furrow and extracting hidden juices. Meg's buttocks wobbled from side to 
side as she panted again. 

Pulling his face away, he tugged on her hips as he sat back, and she fell 
into his lap. He hoisted her thighs on the arms of the chair while she 
remained facing away from him, then used his palms to lift her solid, meaty 
buttocks. 

"Okay," Jack murmured, "while I hold you, put my cock into your cunt." 

Meg reached down, grabbed his meat-spike, brought the head forward until it 
touched the opening of her sweet twat, then slowly introduced it to her 
juicy tunnel. The tendons in her thighs were clearly visible in at least of 
the mirrors, tautly stretched as she centered the pulsing shaft. From the 
way she wiggled, it was obvious her cranny was tingling. 

"He's good," Moira whispered to Rocco. "He definitely cares about his sex 
partner. Notice how he made her come before doing anything. Even after she 
came, he took the time to get her hot and bothered again." 

"What the hell do you know about sex?" Rocco taunted. "You're still a 
virgin, remember? All the movies in the world won't really educate you the 
way experience can." 

Meg was gasping with the cock-head at the entrance of her oozing cunt. She 
suddenly lost her grip on the arms of the chair and fell straight down, 
spearing herself to the central core with a single drop. 

Jack held her steady as she quivered for a moment. Then using a firm but not 
painful grip on the full cheeks of her buttocks as a lever, he began rocking 
her gently from side to side. At the same time, the lovely secretary slowly 
began lifting herself, then lowering herself. Up, then down, up, then down. 
She moved faster, faster, and faster, impaling herself on the upthrust 
organ. 

"Jesus!" Jack gasped, able to see Meg's face in one of the mirrors from 
where he sat. "You have to one of the loveliest woman I've ever had the 
pleasure of knowing." 

"See," Moira murmured, "he even takes the time to compliment her. I like 
that, I like it a lot." 

"Unnnnh!" Meg gasped. "You're really great!" 

She levered herself up and down, applying her thighs to the armchair. When 
he leaned forward and kissed her back, she shuddered. His hands reached 
around from behind and filled themselves with her breasts, his fingers 
tugging on her painfully erect nipples, stiffening them even more. 

Abruptly, Meg twisted in his lap, her body turned so that her lower half 
still sat facing away from him, while her upper half was almost in profile 
to him. This gave him a chance to lean around with his head and nibble at 
her left breast. She shuddered again, another minor climax wracking her. 

"He is good!" Moira muttered, emphasizing each word. 

"Oh, hell! He's an amateur!" Rocco insisted. 

"I suppose you can do better?" 

"You'd better believe it!" 

"Prove it! Suppose I pencil you in for tomorrow with Meg." 

"Hey, I'm not on your list," Rocco insisted. "I don't know the first thing 
about running a corporation. Besides, I'll be damned if I strip naked for 
you and put myself on display." 

"What's the matter?" Moira teased. "Afraid I'll make fun of the size of it?" 

"I'll bet you wish you could get a glimpse of it," Rocco snorted. "Well, 
forget it, lady. I don't strip for any woman who's out to measure my pecker 
with a ruler." 

"Oh?" Moira taunted further. "Just how do you like it to be measured?" 

"With a mouth!" Rocco savagely spat. "The mouth of the female who'd want to 
measure it!" 

Moira reddened, unable to think of a retort at the moment. The whole problem 
was that she was feeling aroused. Though watching Meg and Jack had something 
to do with it, Rocco was having a much stronger effect on her than that 
which was taking place in the observation room. In fact, Rocco affected her 
more than any man she had ever known. Under different circumstances, she was 
certain the two of them might have been friends ... more than friends. 

Moira went back to watching Meg and Jack, unaware how affected Rocco was by 
her nearness. Every passing moment made him ache for her a little more. He 
was unable to remember when he had ached this much for a woman. 

Meg was grinding fiercely into Jack's lap, shuddering and gasping, climaxing 
repeatedly as the thick staff probed her womanly depths over and over. Then 
Jack was gasping* "HAANNHH ... OHHH ... YESSS...." It was obvious he was 
unleashing a torrent of white spume into the narrow funnel between Meg's 
thighs. 

Meg fell back against Jack, out of breath. Then, when his prick shrank, she 
slid off his lap to the floor. 

Jack sat back in the chair unable to move--out of breath. 

"Not enough stamina," Moira shrugged. "Cross him off the list." 

Rocco remained silent, straining not to touch her. Damn! He loved her! 

Moira realized she was purposely incensing Rocco, making him watch the 
different men Meg handled. However, she had Meg stop after the fourth 
applicant. None of them had been satisfactory. 

Rocco was certain she was rejecting them simply to tease him, though he had 
no idea why she would do that. Moira, on the other hand, had rejected them 
because she was mentally comparing them to how she believed Rocco would be. 

True, she had never seen him naked, nor had she any visible examples of his 
prowess. However, she had build a picture of Rocco's abilities in her mind. 
So far, no man had even come close to that mental picture. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Jane Walker was about to enter the Starr building when her husband stepped 
out of the shadows and said, "Don't go up there, Jane." 

"Hughie!" she gasped. "You frightened me. Why shouldn't I go up there?" 

"You know how crazy I am about you," Hugh told her. "Well, I fixed it so 
Moira is going to willingly agree to being fucked. I arranged for the 
greatest hypnotist in the world to take control of her and fuck her." 

"What?" Jane gasped. 

"Yes," Hugh nodded. "I contracted with Steve Fellini...." 

"The Great Fellini?" Jane asked. 

"Yes," Hugh nodded. "I offered him a lot of money to hypnotize Moira and 
convince her he was her lover so she would offer herself to him. I gave him 
my special badge which would allow him access to the building and the Tower. 
He went up more than an hour ago to set up the videotape camera which will 
record everything. Then I saw Moira go in...." 

"That's impossible," Jane insisted. "I saw Moira leave for her mother's home 
earlier this afternoon, and as you can plainly see, the limousine hasn't 
returned yet." 

"But, who's upstairs with Steve Fellini, then?" Hugh asked. 

"Hughie, you're a fool!" Jane snapped. "If they catch that man with your 
badge, they'll put the blame for everything on me, and we'll lose that 
million dollar annuity. You jerk!" 

* * * 

Up in the Starr Tower, Diane, who was waiting for Norris to finish up on the 
floor below, was about to relax. She was resting on the backless divan in 
Moira's office. Moira had offered Diane the use of one of the spare bedrooms 
in her duplex above the office, but Diane had declined, not wanting to 
interfere in Moira's private life. She had, however, accepted Moira's 
invitation to use the divan whenever she wished. 

Diane had no sooner closed her eyes than the door opened, and she saw a man 
silhouetted by the light which shone in from the hallway behind him. He was 
dressed like a clean-up man, and she was able to make out his beard, but 
nothing more. He walked in, shut the door, and turned on the light, causing 
Diane to blink in the sudden brightness. 

"Sorry, miss," the man said as if surprised to see her. "Didn't realize you 
were working late. I'll come back later...." 

"No, no," Diane protested. "It's alright. Get on with what you have to do." 

"Thank you miss," Steve Fellini nodded. But instead of using a vacuum 
cleaner, he produced what looked like a carpet sweeper. 

He began sweeping the carpet in slow, steady, even strokes, and that was 
when Diane noted the pendant dangling from the handle of the sweeper. 

"What an odd thing to have attached to a carpet sweeper," she thought. Her 
eyes followed it as it swung to and fro, and then she heard his voice, as if 
from a long way off, saying, "You look tired, miss, very tired. I'd say you 
want to rest, rest. Your eyelids are heavy, but they can't close. Your mind 
is slipping away and ... away ... away." 

His voice was soft, insistent, and seemed so dominant. Diane was unable to 
focus on anything other than the pendant, or hear anything other than that 
which he was saying. Little by little, she slipped into the hypnotic trance, 
unable to do a thing about it.... 

"Well," Steve said, straightening up, once he was certain the lovely blonde 
girl was under his spell, "I guess I didn't need that photo of you after 
all. Good thing you were working late tonight." 

He hastily took the video camera from the cleaning cart he had brought into 
the office and set it up on its own tripod. Once he had it running, he said, 
"Do you know who I am?" 

"No," Diane answered. 

"I am your lover, the man you adore more than any other man in the world. 
You absolutely love me. Say it! Say you love me!" 

"I ... love ... you." Diane murmured. 

"You want me." 

"I ... want ... you," Diane agreed. 

"Now!" Steve insisted. 

"Yes, now," Diane agreed again. 

"Undress!" Steve ordered. 

Without another thought, Diane immediately hastened to obey this "man she 
loved." Within minutes, she was totally naked, revealing her lush body to 
the bearded man who had also stripped. 

"You're all mine," Steve murmured. 

"I'm all yours," Diane agreed, her eyes shining with devotion, for the 
moment Steve had told her that he was her lover, her mind had envisioned 
Norris, and Norris was all her brain saw. 

"Lie on the divan," Steve instructed her, and Diane did so, her head resting 
on the bolster at the end. 

Steve started the camera, then walked over to where Diane lay. He climbed 
onto her, straddling her breasts, rubbing his prick between them. Then he 
pushed his cock higher, saying, "Open your mouth!" 

Diane opened her mouth, and Steve kneed his way higher, his long, hard, 
dark-headed cock slowly pressing between her pink, parted lips. His knees 
clamped tightly around her head. 

"Suck!" he ordered, and Diane immediately pursed her lips firmly around the 
throbbing phallic probe. 

Steve began plunging the cock in and out. He was pleased to see the effort 
she put forth as her jaws contracted and her cheeks hollowed. He turned his 
head to look at her lower half and smiled when he saw her thighs twitch and 
her cunt hump up and down as juices began oozing from between her rich, 
lovely labia. Hell! Fucking her was going to be easier than he thought. For 
a virgin, she sure lubricated heavily. 

Her hand automatically went down and scratched the matted fur very gently, 
her swollen clitoris already responding, for Norris' lovemaking had taught 
her body arousal as she had never known, and now, even though a strange man 
was using her, her body clamored for satisfaction. 

Hunger throbbed through her body, and her mind, accepting this cock in her 
mouth as Norris' ached for more. The ache in her pussy was greater than the 
rumbling of an empty belly. 

Steve furiously pumped his pulsing poker in and out of her tightly sucking 
mouth, and though she was fantastic, he knew he had to save his sperm for 
her vagina. After he came, he had to bring the camera to her pussy and show 
the semen dripping out. 

But for now, he had to show her to be promiscuous as well as a non-virgin. 
So he continued thrusting his cock in and out of her tight oral orifice and 
she continued her willing sucking. 

Presently, he decided it was time to fuck her. Rolling off the woman, he got 
to his feet and ordered, "On the floor, belly down. You love it this way." 

"I love it this way," Diane repeated. 

He had her at such an angle that when she came up on her knees, her vagina 
was facing the camera. Grabbing the length of his cock, he aimed it at her 
vagina, and suddenly hesitated. Jesus! This didn't look like a virgin! What 
the hell! She was the one he had been sent to fuck, and fuck her he would. 

God! That cunt-hole of hers was fiery red-the fire of lust. Shit! She was 
sopping wet, and inside she was a real tinderbox. 

He sighted the helmeted tip of his cock, then fired, ramming his probe into 
the narrowness of her womanly tunnel. He plugged himself in right to the 
base, but the girl didn't cry out. When he looked down, there was not blood. 
But he was beyond caring whether he was a virgin or not: The pressure of her 
vagina around his prick suddenly had him all ablaze. Heat waves licked at 
the interior of his prick. He moaned with rapturous delight, figuring he 
would enjoy the rest of this while the camera picked it all up. 

Reaching down, he grabbed her thighs, one at a time, lifted them, and 
wrapped her legs around his waist, wheel-barrow style. Now he had a firm 
hold on her. 

Diane's body trembled with searing lascivity. A cock in her cunt had her 
aching with desire. Yes, yes, it was good, and she wanted to enjoy it. 

Steve pulled back a little, and was delighted when Diane hand-walked 
backward, her hot pussy following his prick, swallowing up the length of his 
cock again. When he stepped back again, she moved after him, once more 
swallowing the cock. 

Now it was Diane's turn to move forward, and she did so, and Steve followed 
her by ramming his prick into the narrow dimple of wetness of her cunt. He 
began pounding with a certain regular rhythm into the heated slickness of 
her hot channel, the flexing inner muscles driving him up the wall. Jesus! 
This was about the best fuck of Steve Fellini's life. 

Steve began grinding all the more deeply into Diane. His weighty testicles 
beating at her inner thighs. Diane responded by stiffening, lifting her cunt 
up to receive his hammering prong. 

"Deeper, Norris, deeper, you can do it!" Diane yelled feverishly, her 
hypnotized mind mistaking the identity of the grunting man above her. 

Steve thrust all the harder into her teeming tunnel, thrilling to the bubble 
of hot sauce around his cock as he nailed it into her again and again. Her 
urgently undulant body let him know she was on the verge of satisfaction, 
and he was damn close to coming himself. 

Diane was breathing more and more heavily, the blood racing to her 
upside-down head and pounding fiercely in her skull. Perspiration dotted her 
hairline and washed her body, more heavily between her lovely dangling 
breasts. The flames inside her aching body rose higher. 

"YYYAAARRRGGGHHH!" Steve bellowed, and he was firing his sperm into her as 
her own crushing quim clamped around his organ, signaling the start of her 
own orgasm. 

It was at that moment that Norris All-man, finished with his work for the 
evening, went to Moira's office where he knew Diane had been resting. It was 
time for them to go home. 

He walked through the outer office, and just before opening the inner door, 
heard Steve's orgasmic gasp. 

What the hell was going on? 

Pushing open the inner office door, he saw what Steve was doing to Diane, 
and was horrified. For a moment it appeared as if Diane was a willing 
participant to it all. Immediately it came to him that he was, after all, an 
old man. He had no right to expect such a beautiful woman to be faithful to 
him. 

"Diane!" he exclaimed brokenly, and the sound of his voice snapped her out 
of the remnant of her light hypnotic trance. 

"Norris!" she screamed, as Steve dropped her legs. She whipped around on the 
floor, stared at Steve, and shouted, "Who ... you're the clean-up man ... 
how...." 

Norris had been ready to turn and stalk out of there, but now he heard the 
lovely blonde behaving as if she was unaware of what was happening. At first 
he wouldn't believe it, but perhaps because he wanted to believe her, he 
waited as Steve hurriedly pulled on the coveralls he had been wearing. 

"Hey, nothing personal, Miss Starr," he said. "A job's a job." 

"Miss Starr?" Diane asked, confused. 

"You think she's Moira Starr?" Norris yelled. 

"Knock it off," Steve snapped, edging toward the door. "Who else would be in 
this office at this time of night?" 

"You stupid . fool," Norris yelled. 

"That's my woman, Diane. Who the hell do you thing you are to rape her?" 

"It wasn't rape," Steve insisted, grabbing the TV camera from the desk. 

"You're telling me my Diane willingly let you...." 

"Hypnosis," Steve smugly smiled. "She thought it was you. She called me by 
your name several times." 

"You son-of-a-bitch...." 

"Watch it, old man," Steve laughed. "You'll get a stroke." 

He turned to run toward the elevator, but it suddenly opened, and Rocco 
Simmons, with Moira holding onto his arm, was stepping out. 

"Stop him!" Norris yelled to Rocco, pointing at Steve. "He fucked my Diane, 
thinking she was Miss Moira." 

Steve reached into the pocket of his overalls, and suddenly pulled out a 
gun, snapping, "Sorry, specs, but I haven't time to chat. I'll have to nail 
that lady another time." 

"How far do you thing you're going to get? Rocco sneered. "Security will 
be-alerted long before you reach the ground floor, and I don't think you 
have anything as exotic as a helicopter waiting on the roof." 

"I'll take my chances," Steve insisted. 

Just then, Norris moved toward Steve, distracting him, and Rocco, in two 
strides was close enough to kick the gun from his hand. What followed was a 
fierce battle in which the two men punched, kicked, and violently struggled 
in the grip of one another. In close contact, Steve had the advantage. He 
was heavier than Rocco. At one point, he almost squeezed the life out of the 
thinner man, but Rocco managed to pull away. He immediately started dancing 
and punching, causing a mouse to build under Steve's right eye, and then 
blood to pour from the man's nostrils. When a swipe knocked off the security 
badge he was wearing, the floor detectors suddenly went off, and less than a 
minute later, four security guards were pulling Rocco and Steve apart, 
holding Steve. Rocco picked up the fallen security badge. 

"It has Hughie Walker's name on it," Rocco said. "So, Hughie hired you, eh." 

"I don't know his name," a bloodied Steve shrugged. "Funny-looking man with 
a mustache. He sent me a lot of money with the promise of more if I got the 
job done." 

"Hughie Walker," Moira nodded. 

"Well, if Hughie did this, it must mean Jane is in on it," Rocco surmised. 
"Might be a good idea if we contact George Hyde and let him know. This way, 
she'll lose that annuity of hers." 

"No," Moira insisted. "She's as rotten as the day is long, and she's tried 
hard to get at me, but she was treated badly by my father. Let her keep her 
annuity. She deserves something." 

"Still, it isn't right for Hughie to get away with it completely. I mean, I 
once almost had a crush on the man, and he turned me down. Then to turn 
around and do something like this to me is cruel. Hughie has to be 
punished." 

"I'll tell Jane she has to divorce him if she wants to keep her annuity," 
Moira laughed. "Jane won't care, but Hughie's so crazy about his wife, it'll 
drive him out of his mind. Another thing, if Jane ever has relations with 
her soon-to-be-ex-husband, she'll forfeit that pension, because I'll tie her 
into all this." 

"You know, as long as you're not married, she'll keep trying," Rocco told 
her. She's a vindictive one. You haven't any hope of getting away with being 
a virgin much longer. I think you'll have to marry a lot sooner than even 
you thought." 

"You're right," Moira nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll resume with what we started 
today. I'll make my selection from the men I see." 

Rocco suddenly felt his heart fall to his feet. Damn her! Why did he have to 
love her? Well, if she picked out a husband the following day and got the 
three-day period waived, he'd be through with her by nightfall. It was just 
as well. He didn't think he himself would be able to hang around her much 
longer if she was to remain a virgin. Some bodyguard he made! 

"You'll be with me at the observation room tomorrow?" Moira asked him. 

Rocco sullenly agreed. 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

They were in Moira's bedroom, Rocco, George Hyde, Moira and Jane. Moira 
raised the panel behind the mirror, revealing an empty bedroom. 

"I've asked the two of you here," she said to George and Jane, "because I 
want you to witness my marriage and my defloration." 

"Where are the studs?" Rocco snorted. 

"Didn't I tell you?" Moira asked, "I made my choice already. I don't need 
Meg's services, at least not in that respect, any longer." 

"Bitch!" Jane snapped savagely. "I don't want to 

"You'll watch!" Moira insisted. "You'll watch because I want you to watch. 
From now on, you'll do anything I say. I have the taped confession of the 
Great Fellini that he was sent here by your husband to hypnotize and seduce 
me." 

"I'm dumping Hughie," Jane insisted. "What else do you want?" 

"I want you to watch the performance of my husband," Moira insisted. "I want 
you to watch and salivate, because you'll realize that you'll never get to 
be fucked by this man." 

"What do you want from me?" George Hyde requested. 

"Well, I'll need two witnesses to my wedding," Moira replied. "I've decided 
you and Jane are those two witnesses." 

"Then why do you need me?" Rocco snorted. 

"Well, you do have to stay with me until I'm married," Moira teased. 

"Do I have to watch ... after?" 

"Only if you want to." 

"I don't." 

Moira turned to George. "Tell me, Mr. Hyde, does my father's will stipulate 
I must accept a groom from the men he selected as prospects?" 

"No," George Hyde admitted, "but he does stipulate it has to be a permanent 
union. No separations, no divorce, and the man you select must be willing to 
help you run Starr Industries." 

Moira walked over to the phone on her nightstand, picked it up and said, 
"Send the judge in, now." 

The judge walked in, and Moira said to him, "We're ready." 

"Excellent," the judge nodded. "I'll need some signatures, first." 

"Hey, where's the groom?" Rocco asked. 

"Shut up and sign," Moira told him. 

Rocco waited. Jane signed on one line that read "Witness," George signed on 
the other. 

"Now you sign," Moira commanded to Rocco. 

"There isn't room for another witness," Rocco pointed out. 

"There," Moira instructed, pointing to the line that read "Groom." 

"What?" Rocco gasped. "Hey, now wait a minute. Where I come from, the guy 
asks the girl. The girl doesn't order the guy." 

"Rocco," Moira said, looking at him, "I want a one-word answer. Do you love 
me?" 

Rocco stared at her, then at the others in turn, and he felt a trickle of 
sweat running down his back. 

"Yes, damn it!" he yelled. 

"Do you want to see me fucked by someone else?" 

?I'll kill the man . . 

"So then you'll marry me?" 

"My God! Oh my God! You're going to rope me into...." 

"Rocco!!!" 

"Oh, you bitch! You damn well know by now how crazy I am about you. But how 
did you know? I mean, I never told you or showed you...." 

"My God, Rocco," Moira retorted. "I'm so crazy about you I can't see 
straight, and if I feel this way about you, there has to be a reason. 
There's no way in the world I'd be able to fall this deeply in love with you 
if I didn't believe you felt the same way about me." 

"You love me?" Rocco asked. 

"You're not only a dope, you're a blind dope," she told him. Then to the 
judge she said, "How about it, your honor?" 

"Join hands," the judge insisted. 

Five minutes later, Moira was married Mrs. Rocco Simmons. 

After the judge had left, Rocco said, "I'll be damned if I have any 
witnesses to what happens next." 

"I have no intentions of letting anyone see us," Moira smiled. "I just 
wanted to tease my half-sister a little, that's all. Mr. Hyde, take Jane 
wherever you wish. If it'll make the two of you happy, you can play house 
together now that Jane had been effectively rendered harmless." 

"I'll always hate you!" Jane screamed. 

"Not too much," Moira laughed. "Remember, you're keeping that million dollar 
annuity, thanks to my generosity." 

"Get fucked!" Jane yelled. 

"Precisely what I intend on doing," Moira laughed, ushering the two of them 
out and locking the bedroom door. 

Now that the wedding was over, Moira was a little frightened. She no longer 
had the aphrodisiac in her to make her "need" sex. She wanted it, but 
inexperience made her a bit frightened. 

"Go get undressed in the bathroom," Rocco smiled, sensing her uneasiness. 
Total master of the situation, this was the first time he was feeling good 
since he had taken on Moira. 

He heard the shower start and smiled as he himself undressed to await his 
nervous virginal bride. She emerged from the bathroom a short while later 
with*]a towel wrapped around her. He wasted no time whipping it away, 
looking at the lush expanse of her delectable body. Twin-coned breasts with 
their brownish nipples pointed upward, a slender waist and full hips greeted 
his eyes. 

Moira reddened, totally embarrassed, and tried hiding her breasts by 
crossing her arms over them. Rocco pulled them away. 

"Don't be shy," he soothed. "I'm hot for you, honey. I've been hot for you 
for a long time, and I want you-now!" 

"That's rather obvious," Moira breathed, looking at his hard-on. 

Rocco cupped her full breasts in both hands, gently massaging the firm flesh 
as he ran his thumbs over the nipples, feeling them swell to his touch. 
Moira was panting, afraid, yet anxious. 

He leaned forward, putting his mouth over one nipple, sucking it gently. 
Moira shivered with pleasure as she decided she liked what Rocco's mouth was 
doing to her. She gasped as his fingers moved down over the pliant globes of 
her asscheeks. His mouth continued wetly exploring her breast as his hands 
massaged her buttocks, pulling her toward the bed. 

Moira was aware of the crevice between her luscious mounds spreading wider. 
In spite of any embarrassment, her belly began twitching in response to the 
wonderful sensations, and dampness between her thighs became heavy and oily. 

Rocco trailed his hands over her tantalizing buttocks and then her upper 
thighs, leaving one hand there and deliberately moving his other to her 
smooth leg. He trickled his fingers into the narrow crevice left by her open 
stance. Teasing the soft brown curls, he forced her to spread her legs even 
wider. With his middle finger pointing the way, he cupped her firm, moist 
labia, his fingers continuing their search for the slit of her clit. 

"Huuunnnnhhhh!" Moira moaned as his fingers finally found the tiny electric 
nerve-ending at the peak of her inner labia. 

All the while his mouth sucked and his lips pulled at her breast and nipple, 
and it made her dizzy. His finger on her clitoris sent a shock through her. 
Her knees almost buckled as wild sensation danced madly up and down her 
shuddering spine. 

Rocco felt his hard cock become stiffer than granite. If he didn't bury it 
in this woman, it would explode. Moving quickly, he picked her up and 
carried her the rest of the way to the bed, laying her down on the clean 
sheets. 

Standing straight, he stared at the fantastically lovely body of his new 
wife as she smiled weakly at him in the hope of appearing relaxed. The sight 
of Rocco's erection, longer and thicker than any she had seen sported by the 
men who had serviced Meg, both fascinated and frightened her as she realized 
that shortly, she would have its full length buried in her body. 

Her eyes open wide as she stared at the purplish, blood-filled tip. The 
opening was dilated a little, and a drop of moisture was emerging. 
Light-blue veins wound their way through the shaft, and the column seemed to 
throb as if excited at staring at her through its sightless eye. 

Rocco knelt between her thighs and hoisted her legs over his shoulders. He 
pushed on the backs of her thighs, bending her legs all the way back, and 
Moira reddened, embarrassed even more to have him staring into the center of 
her womanhood. She jerked crazily as he leaned forward and dipped a 
tongue-tip into her navel. 

Rocco inhaled the rich, womanly essence of her. She was more fascinating and 
beautiful down there than he had initially imagined. He had to taste and see 
if her flavor matched her delicate aroma. 

His working tongue moved lower and sliced through the fuzzy hairs on her 
pelvis, and Moira jerked even more rapidly. 

She realized what her was about to do. She had seen Jack Acre to it with 
Meg. At the time it had aroused her just watching, and now it was going to 
happen to her, with the man she loved. 

She lay perfectly still, anticipating, inwardly thrilling as jolts of 
lightning-like pleasure charged madly through her. She started violently 
when the contact actually came. When his tongue touched her clitoris. 

Leaning on his elbows, he shoveled his hands under her buttocks to lift 
Moira's loins closer to his anxious face. His tongue smeared itself straight 
up and down the indentation of her vagina, the flat of it washing back and 
forth across her clitoris. He paused to suck at it and pull the little 
nerve-bud between his lips. 

"Ghhhuuunnnggghhh!" Moira gasped as wonderful sensations blasted through her 
quaking body, sensations unlike any she had ever known. 

Hot fluid poured from her vagina and splashed in Rocco's face, making him 
aware of her first mini-orgasm. 

Rocco became aware of the pressure building higher in his own loins, and 
knew the time had come to fuck his new wife. Fuck her, he would. Hard, fast 
and deep! Hell! He'd show her what it meant to take it for granted that he 
loved her--even if he did. Shit! If he didn't bury his cock in her teeming 
pussy soon, he'd be pouring his load out all over the bed. 

Moira's head lolled from side to side as the wet tongue furiously licked 
into the depth of her cunt. She had given up trying to think about the 
possible paid that would follow. All that mattered was the wonder she was 
presently feeling. She was caught up in a rapture she had never believed 
possible. 

Rocco lifted himself up to stare into the rich pink filament that was her 
vagina. He hauled himself forward, staring down, watching as the tip of his 
throbbing cock was now mere inches from the sheath in which it would sink 
itself. 

Lifting his eyes, he looked at Moira, and saw was still a bit frightened. 

"It can't hurt you," he soothed patiently, a teacher with a student. "It 
can't do anything you don't want it to do. It's part of me, and I love you. 
Do you think any part of me would harm you?" 

"N-no," Moira agreed. 

"Then prove it to yourself and to me. 

You put it in." 

Slowly, very slowly, her hand reached down and caressed the throbbing length 
of the massive shaft. As her fingers curled around it, she felt hot blood 
pumping through it, the entire shaft seeming to pulsate with a distinctive 
rhythm. 

"Just guide it,' he said reassuringly, leaning forward until the 
purple-topped instrument came into contact with her vagina. 

Moira felt as if she were in the observation room, while yet another part of 
her was looking on. the hungry burning in her pussy seemed so strange. There 
was definitely the desire to fill it with the hard fleshiness of the cock 
she was holding. The fire within her would be put out by this fire-hose. 

Her hand began moving along the length of it, leading the blood-swollen tip 
up and down the furred slash between her legs. Slowly, the hair-lined lips 
parted all the more widely, and then it touched the very entrance of her 
womanhood. 

Unable to keep out of her any longer, Rocco pressed forward with his hips, 
widening her tightness until the vulva surrounded the head of his cock. Like 
an elastic mouth, the entrance to her cunt swallowed him up. The entire 
helmeted head disappeared inside. 

Pressing firmly on the mattress, his hands beneath her armpits, he eased his 
cock in two more inches. 

"Hhaauunngghh!" Moira cried out, feeling her inner self widen. Excitement 
took total control of her. She was afraid of pain, but even more afraid for 
this not to continue. She was discovering the glory of being fucked. 

Rocco had strained to keep himself in cheek, even in the tight oven of her 
cunt. Now, he lost all control. He rammed forward with all his strength, his 
thick phallus mercilessly stretching her virgin walls, charging through her 
maidenhead, snapping it like tissue paper. The long, hard cock kept going 
like an express train, and soon the entire length of it was buried to the 
root in her tight depths. 

"Myyyy G-o-o-o-oddddd!" the helpless woman gasped, aware of some initial 
pain, yet also aware it was not nearly as strong as she had feared it might 
be. 

The giant log was moving within her, rubbing her inner membranes back and 
forth as it fucked her. Yes, it was fucking her! She was being fucked! 

She writhed a little under Rocco's weight, but realized it would have been 
futile had she wanted to get away. But she didn't want to get away. There 
was that littlest tingle beyond the initial pain, and it told her there was 
so much more rapture waiting if only she had the courage to hold out. 

Rocco forced his body firmly against that of his new wife as he stared down 
at their tangle of pubic hair where they were delectably fused together. He 
waited an interminable length of time to give Moira's interior time to 
adjust to his thickness. Then, he flexed the pulsing rod, making it expand 
inside her, and she gasped, quivering a little. 

"Huuunnhh!" she panted, but her moan was subdued, not nearly as anguished as 
when he had crammed himself into her. 

Watching her lovely face for reactions, he slowly withdrew his fleshy pylon 
from her hot cunt until only the rubbery head Still remained within. Then he 
smoothly pushed forward again, driving it in, feeling the wet, warm walls 
once more wrap themselves around his organ. When he pulled back the next 
time, he was the pink stain-the evidence of her virginity-covering his cock. 
Then he slammed forward again, and his balls met the upturned cheeks of her 
lovely ass. 

Feeling warm flesh tickle her rectum, her cunt totally filled, Moira sensed 
the complete openness of her position. She was literally bent to the will of 
the penis thrust inside her. Yet she no longer felt embarrassment of any 
kind. Her husband was fucking her, and she had to admit, beyond the initial 
pain and discomfort of being stretched, it was a good feeling. Her body was 
inwardly craving this, needing this. She spread her thighs wider apart as 
she arched her delectable hips to keep pace with the movement of his cock. 

The pressure in Rocco's semen-filled prostate was getting out of control, 
now. The man began rapidly sawing his organ in and out, in and out, feeling 
her. inner self respond with pressure. He was balanced so that he was able 
to see everything happening. What thrilled him most was the sight of Moira 
arching her lovely body as he drove repeatedly into her again and again. Her 
head was rolling from side to side, her tongue licking parched lips, 
perspiration making her face wet. Her firm breasts bounced and bobbled with 
every thrust of his cock, and her white, smooth belly sucked in each time he 
probed into her. 

Moira had given herself over totally and completely to the sensations 
streaming through her churning body. She ground her hips up and down, moving 
along the length of his fleshy column. 

Her mind had gone blank for the moment as she surrendered herself solely to 
the feelings she was enjoying. 

A picture began filling Moira's mind. It was the picture of herself as she 
was being fucked by her husband. She became even more excited because she 
felt she looked so much more arousing in this state than her mother had 
looked when she had seen George Hyde fucking her. Her lush writhing body 
thrilled to being beneath that of Rocco. God! So this was fucking! It was 
the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her. 

"Fuck me, Rocco!" she gasped. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! I love you! I swear to' 
God I love you!" she chanted, as the fire in the depths of her belly went 
totally out of control. Her body heaved and rippled and quaked as she slowly 
began sitting up. 

Rocco wasn't aware of what she was trying to do, but went along with it. He 
allowed her to sit up, but to do so, he had to bring his own legs straight 
forward so they stuck out behind her. They sat, now, facing each other, he 
still locked inside her, his own ass feeling the wetness of the sheet under 
him. 

They see-sawed back and forth this way, rocking left and right as greater 
and greater swells filled both of them. Rocco was on the verge, and nothing 
was going to stop him from spewing sperm into her. 

Moira felt her entire body engulfed with a tidal wave of delectable 
feelings. She clamped herself to him, grinding her fulcrum circularly around 
his pulsing organ. The hot prick was buried to the depths within her, and 
her thighs clamped around his body. 

"HHH A A A A Y Y Y A A AIIIIGGGHHHH!" Moira screamed, as total orgasm took 
control of her shaking body, her hot cunt jerking forward to suck on the 
full length of Rocco's thrusting cock. 

Spasm after spasm rippled through her quaking belly as on climax after 
another tore through her, making her aware of how sensual she really was. 

Rocco was pleased to see her coming. Before, he had always been able to hold 
his sperm back until the woman came first, but this was one time when he had 
been uncertain. Jesus! Moira was some kind of woman. He thrilled to the heat 
of her internal juices pouring out all over his cock. 

She yelled again-another climax-as his swollen dork drummed wildly in the 
depths of her tummy. Then Rocco was unleashing his own fluid. Her belly was 
being jabbed, or so it seemed to Moira, as the hot spike inside her spurted 
one splash after another. Great gouts of fluid washed the walls of her 
pussy, then came oozing out. 

Rocco was unable to believe what a fantastic female this one was. Her 
reactions matched his own. He screwed his spitting cock ever deeper into the 
narrow closure of her draining pussy. Hot semen came out of her and washed 
all over his testicles. The two of them held onto each other in the sitting 
position as they bounced madly all over the bed. 

They slowly came to a halt, not because they wanted to, but because Rocco 
slowly shrank inside Moira. The woman had drained him as no other female had 
ever done. 

Very slowly, they pulled apart, a loud sucking noise accompanying the 
removal of his penis from the cup of her interior. 

"My God!" Moira gasped. "So that's what it's like." 

"Lover, it's only the beginning," Rocco assured her. "There's so much more, 
and I intend teaching you all of it." 

"I want to learn it all," Moira signed, sliding off the bed, heading for the 
bathroom, where she wetted a cloth. After cleaning herself, she came back 
and washed Rocco down. 

"Wife, you're one fantastic lady," Rocco complemented her. 

"Wait until the thrill wears off," she chided. "Then tell it to me." 

"With a woman like you, the thrill will never wear off," Rocco assured her. 
"I just wonder, with all the business you have to watch, will you have 
enough time for things like this in the future?" 

"We'll make time," Moira assured him. "But tell me something." 

"Sure," he nodded. 

"Well ... she began timidly, "hell, my father's will calls for fidelity on 
my part," Moira fretted. "I mean, now that I'm married, you're the only one 
I can allow into me. But there are no restrictions on you. What's to keep 
you faithful to me." she worried. 

Rocco laughed and kissed her on the forehead. He walked over to the window 
and looked down into the street for a moment, then turned, looked at her and 
said, "I don't cheat, honey. Between you and me, there has to be total 
trust. I fell in love with you, something I never did with any other woman. 
I mean, it hit me, just like that," he demonstrated, snapping his fingers. I 
never expected it to happen. 

Shit! I'm not going to fall out of love, Moira. You're special to me, really 
special. I love you too much to risk losing what's between us." 

"But Rocco, I'm new at love, new at sex, new at everything like this." 

"We both have things to learn," Rocco assured her, returning to where she 
lay on the bed. And we'll help each other learn together. If I can accept 
the fact that you're going to be running the world's largest financial 
empire, then you have to accept that I'm a private eye, always will be, and 
very happy at it. I'll temper my cases so I don't get involved with any 
other chicks. In fact, except for you, I never have gotten involved with any 
female clients." 

"I think that's a very good rule to follow," Moira nodded. 

"Speaking of clients," he reminded her. "You do owe me money. I've done my 
job, and the private detective in me wants to get paid." 

"Oh?" Moira laughed. "Just when do you want me to pay you?" 

"How about as soon as possible," Rocco said. 

"Really?" Moira laughed. "And how much do I owe you?" 

"About ten grand for Queen Bee and her bunch." 

"I'll make out a check to her right away," Moira nodded. 

"And more that twenty-five G's for me." Rocco added. 

"Suppose I renege?" 

"Oh, lady, if you do that, then the husband in me will just have to take it 
out on your body," he threatened, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he 
grabbed for her. "Considering you're so new at the fucking game, you're 
worth about a buck a hump." 

"Well, that means all I owe you is twenty-four thousand nine hundred and 
ninety-nine dollars," Moira calculated. 

"Ninety-eight," Rocco told her, kissing her soundly as he feverishly lowered 
her onto the bed. 


THE END
