Father's Girl Volume 3
by Mary Jenkins 


Chapter 1 

Jennifer's mind was confused as she made her plans to leave Nice. She had 
left her husband just a week before in an effort to find her own life, but 
instead she only compounded her confusion when she had run into her father 
at the masquerade party. She knew that she would have to get away, far away 
before he could discover that it was she whom he had seduced in the bedroom 
the night of the party. 

"Oh daddy," she whispered to herself as she packed the last of her things 
and called for the porter to take them to her car. She decided that she 
needed the time to think so she had splurged and hired a private limousine 
to drive her back to Paris. She knew that there was a chance that her 
husband would still be there, but perhaps she could avoid meeting him if she 
were careful. 

Her husband, she laughed, a sadistic maniac. Life had played a cruel joke on 
her, but she had achieved her stardom, her fame, but now where was she going 
to turn? It didn't seem possible that so much had happened to her in such a 
short period of time and she didn't have the slightest idea what would come 
next, she only knew that she would have to start over again, if that were 
possible, and build a new life, meet new people and perhaps even start a new 
career. A star and a "has-been" at twenty, the thought was ludicrous, 
unbelievable! 

"Is everything ready, Miss Rhodes?" the porter asked, reaching for her 
suitcase. "Your car is waiting." 

"Yes, I think I've gotten everything, thank you." 

She took one last look around her small room and followed the porter to the 
lobby where she was greeted by her chauffeur. He smiled at her and took her 
bags from the porter. 

"You're as beautiful as your pictures," he told her, helping her into the 
limousine. 

She smiled, then laughed, these Frenchmen certainly knew how to flatter a 
woman. The way he looked at her when he helped her into the car made her 
feel all warm inside, yet uncomfortable, as though he could see right 
through her clothing. She settled back in the luxury of the thick, padded 
upholstery and propped her feet up on the seat. The warmth of the sun shone 
through the window so she let the sweater she had thrown around her 
shoulders, slide to the floor. 

"You needn't drive fast," she told the driver, "I'm in no hurry to reach 
Paris." 

"Yes, M'am," he answered. 

"Oh, please call me Jennifer," she said, "it's a long ride and I'm not in a 
very formal mood." 

He grinned at her through the rear view mirror and said, "Okay, my name's 
Edmond." 

She caught his glance and smiled back. He had the whitest, most even teeth 
she had ever seen and she wondered if they were his own or whether thev were 
capped, then laughed out loud at her thought. What would a chauffeur be 
doing having his teeth capped, he couldn't afford it on his salary. She 
couldn't decide how old he was as she studied his face. His features were 
youthful, yet his eyes and the corners of his mouth were lined, not so much 
with age as with experience. He's almost as handsome as my father she mused 
and just the remembering of that crazy, delicious night in bed with her own 
father, she shivered all over, tiny ripples of sudden passion coursing 
between her thighs. She tried to close her eyes and sleep, but she couldn't 
keep herself from staring into the rear view mirror and admiring the 
ruggedness of her driver. She wondered if his shoulders were just as broad 
underneath his tailored uniform. She knew that she was making him nervous, 
because from time to time he would return her look in the mirror and smile. 
She wondered if he could tell what she was thinking and it became a game 
with her. She would wink at him and laugh, tell him how handsome he was and 
what a shame it was that he was so far away from her. Her own words began to 
excite her, her play at seduction that was not really playing. She could 
feel a tensing in her loins and she rubbed her legs together, letting the 
friction of her thighs stimulate the juncture of her legs and she could feel 
her clitoris stiffen involuntarily against the tight, thin silk of her 
panties. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands in an effort to 
quench her rising sensual appetite, but the more she tried to fight her 
wanton desire, the more persistent it became. 

It was an intolerable gnawing, an insatiable need that she knew would 
consume her and she wiggled nervously in her seat. 

"God, it's hot in here," she commented to the driver as she squirmed further 
down in the seat. 

He glanced at her and smiled, but said nothing, yet his grin told her that 
he somehow was aware of her frustrated condition. 

Why doesn't he say something, she thought? Why doesn't he make a pass at me 
so I don't have to make a fool of myself and go after him. She felt awkward, 
bungling, all her savoir-faire diminishing as her tension built and her 
desire mounted to an annoying and unconquerable height. She raised her 
skirt, letting the soft folds of the sheer cotton material drape carelessly 
around her upper thighs, revealing the long, slim trimness of her legs and 
the slight fullness of her upper leg. She knew that Edmond was watching her 
in the mirror, but his eyes would quickly return to the road, trying to 
ignore her sensual display, her wantonness. She reached down and unfastened 
the stays of her garters and slowly rolled her stockings down over her 
shoeless feet so that her firm, supple flesh was exposed and glistened in 
the sun. Her fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, causing redness to 
appear between the span of her fingers and her knuckles whitened from the 
pressure. She no longer cared whether the driver was watching her or not, 
she had to satisfy the burning sensation that was controlling her body. She 
pulled her blouse open a little fur ther so that the full, sensuous curve of 
her bosom was exposed and her cleavage was in full view. She knew that her 
body was well-formed and sensual, exciting enough to tempt any man, yet the 
chauffeur seemed to ignore her obvious, bla tant innuendoes towards his 
masculinity. She stared at him in the mirror again a daring, chal lenging 
look in her eyes, inviting him to pull over to the side of the road and take 
her like the bitcl in heat she really was. - 

She couldn't bring herself to ask him to make love to her, not so much for 
fear that he would refuse her, it was just that it would strip her of all 
pride and make her nothing more than a common whore, and something inside 
her would not let her go this far, not yet! What she could not tell was that 
Edmond was squirming nervously in the front seat, an obvious bulge rising 
inside his trousers as he watched her wiggle and twist in the back of the 
limousine. He found it difficult to keep his mind on the winding, narrow 
road. He had chauffeured many women in his life and many times he had been 
propositioned by them, the young, the old, the wealthy patrons that hired 
him sometimes for no other reason than getting him alone on a deserted road 
with one thing in mind, but this woman he could not figure. She was 
beautiful, famous, young and she could have any man in the world, yet she 
seemed so disturbed, so frustrated, yet she said nothing. He knew that she 
wanted to, for several times she opened her mouth to say something to him, 
only to clench her teeth and slide down in her seat again. He wanted to pull 
the car off the road and crawl in the back seat with her and fuck her 
senseless like no other man had probably ever done, he wanted to caress and 
tantalize her soft, white flesh, bring her nerve ends to the surface of her 
skin, make her moan beneath hint as he plunged his huge, rock hard rod into 
her. He drew a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the road ahead, but 
he let his left hand drop off the wheel and press fiercely against his 
erect, throbbing penis through his uniform trousers. 

"God," he murmured, as he felt the heavy weight pulse between his legs, and 
he looked in the mirror so that he could watch her again. She was sprawled 
out on the seat, her skirt pulled up on her hips so that her sheer, silk 
panties were in his view and he could see the tight elastic bands marking 
the fullness of her fleshy, soft thighs. He couldn't help but notice the 
broadness of her hips and thought that they would make a comfortable, 
velvety cushion to cradle his rising male hardness. 

She caught his look in the mirror and smiled invitingly back at him, wetting 
her full, soft red lips, flicking her tongue over them in a practiced move, 
hoping that he would take the further initiative and pull over to some 
secluded spot. She had never wanted to he raped before, but her wandering 
mind had set her body afire with passion and lust and she had to do 
something or she thought that she would go out of her mind. She placed her 
hands at the vee of her loins and she could feel the moist heat of the soft 
pubic hair through her panties. She was almost lying prone on the seat as 
she let one finger slide hesitantly inside the elastic of her panties to 
feel the hardness of her clitoris and flick at it nervously. 

"Ooooohhhh," she moaned softly, letting her finger rub her erected nob of 
sensitive flesh and slide easily over the tiny slit of her vagina. She was 
already damp with desire, her vaginal walls throbbing for fulfillment. She 
had not masturbated in a long time and it angered her that she would have to 
resort to it now, especially when there was such a virile, handsome man just 
a foot or so away from her, but she needed gratification. 

"Daddy ... Oh, daddy," she groaned, "help me!" Her voice was barely audible, 
but the glazed look in her eyes betrayed her emotions. 

"You said something?" Edmond tried to comment casually, kneading the huge 
lump in his trousers. 

She ignored his remark as she slipped one finger into the opening of her 
warm, aching vagina and twisted her hips down against her hand. She worked 
her finger furiously inside her, but it wasn't enough to fill her and only 
aggravated her tense, frustrated condition. She closed her eyes and clenched 
her teeth, but a low, deep, animal-like moan escaped her lips. 

"Oooooooooh," she whispered, trying not to make enough noise for him to hear 
in the front seat. 

The driver was breathing heavily and the car swerved just in time to 
negotiate a sharp turn without going into a large vacant field. He wasn't 
sure how much longer he could endure her tantalizing display in the back 
seat before he would find a wooded area, stop the car and take her, 
forcefully if necessary. Ile couldn't understand why she said nothing, but 
just looked at him, pleading. Didn't she realize that he couldn't make the 
first move? If she changed her mind later she could say that he had attacked 
her! The penalties for rape were as stringent in Europe as anywhere in the 
world and he couldn't bear the thought of a prison term, yet he had never 
wanted a woman so badly in his life. Perspiration began to bead at his 
temples and he removed his hat and placed it on the seat next to hire, his 
left hand still trying to calm the pulsing thickness inside his trousers. 

Her breasts were heaving with her passion and he was sure that her large, 
bulbous mounds would push out from beneath her scanty lace brassiere. She 
bounced her hips up and down on the seat, jiggling her full, luscious 
breasts like gelatin. They did not lose any of their round voluptuousness in 
her prone position, but stood Lip pointedly, proudly with the firmness of 
youth. She squirmed discontentedly, fingering herself in a futile effort to 
reach her climax, but her slender finger just scraped and teased the walls 
of her vagina, slipping in and out easily instead of filling her. She needed 
a man, a man's penis, a hard, erect, anxious prick inside her to bring her 
to the height of her passion and satisfy the horrible, desperate need that 
had suddenly come over her in the heat of the afternoon. 

Reluctantly she removed her inefficient finger and let her hands cup her 
heaving, large breasts, pinching her swollen pinkish nipples through the 
lace of her brassiere. She jiggled them, smiling to herself, then looked in 
the mirror to see if Edmond was watching ... he was! 

"Yes ... yes ..." she hissed through her clenched teeth. "Please ... 
please!" Her eyes were wild and staring as she played with her breasts, 
finally pulling them free from her brassiere so that he could see the full, 
round orbs, the erect, pointed nipples. He slowed the car and began to pull 
to the side of the road, he couldn't keep his mind on the driving any 
longer. 

"God damn," he whispered, "What are you trying to do to me!" 

"Help me," she pleaded in suppressed desperation, "I need you ... please ... 
please!" 

He couldn't believe that this beautiful woman was actually begging him to 
make love to her, but he couldn't stop the car and take her right on the 
side of the road. 

"There's a woods a few miles ahead," he whispered thickly, just loud enough 
so that she could hear him. 

"Hurry ... hurry," she begged, "I can't take it any longer. Don't you want 
me?" 

He pressed down on the accelerator, racing the engine and sped down the road 
in a frantic effort to reach the seclusion of the woods before he would 
climax and lose his erection before he could take her. 

"Faster," she choked, "I'm dying':.}. . can't take it any more!" :.Y 

She unhooked her brassiere so that her breasts were completely free and 
jiggling as they drove. She moved further up on the seat and fumbled with 
the zipper of her skirt. She didn't want to waste any time once they were 
safe from the other traffic on the road. Her body was burning ;with passion, 
an animal lust and she had to have `:this strange man, she had to feel his 
manhood, 'hard and pulsing inside her, driving her out of her mind, 
torturing her, fucking her like the animal she had become in these few short 
weeks. 

It seemed to take hours before she felt the car take a sharp turn off the 
main road and could feel the bumps of a dirt, rural trail leading deep into 
foliage and darkness. She looked up and she could see the tall trees shading 
the sun from the forest floor and she knew that it wouldn't be long before 
he would be inside her. She was nearly nude by the time he stopped the car 
and began to tear at the buttons of his shirt, throwing it carelessly on the 
seat next to him. 

"Hurry ... please hurry," she begged him;' sprawling out on the back seat, 
making no pretense of what she needed She couldn't be coy, pretend that she 
hadn't seduced her driver, but those thoughts faded from her mind when she 
heard him open his door, stand for just a mo ment staring down at her young, 
vibrant, vital body before he opened the back door and stood above her. She 
stared at the muscular ruggedness of his body, his matted hairy chest, the 
flatness of his belly, and finally the huge, jerking, thick log that was his 
penis. 

"OOOOOOHHHH," she groaned, "Oooooooooooh!" 

He fell on top of her, forcing one of her legs to dangle on the floor of the 
car and lifting her other knee so that her leg was balanced on the back 
shelf of the seat, as he eased his hips between the wetness of her 
spread-eagled legs. 

"God," he gasped as he felt the dampness, the readiness of her juncture as 
his massive, hardened prick swung up towards his belly and jerked 
spastically between her legs, teasing her, just brushing over her clitoris 
and the tiny, moist slit of her . vagina.v 

Her hands reached up and clawed the hardness of his shoulders as he sucked 
and bit savagely into the curve of her neck. He couldn't believe that he was 
actually making love to this famous, beautiful, luscious woman and he didn't 
want to hurry and end it too soon. 

"Now... now," she begged. "Don't make me wait ... please ... please," she 
murmured throatily, but he grasped her breasts in his strong hands and 
squeezed the fleshy bulbs as though they were unfeeling rubber. 

"Aaaaaaggggghhh," she groaned as his fingers dug painfully into her soft, 
sensitive flesh, and she bucked her hips up against his male hardness, 
trying to force him inside her to extinguish the fire and wring the cum from 
her belly, but he angled himself again so that his throbbing rod pulsed into 
the fleshiness of her thigh. 

"Fuck me...'fuck me...." she cried, "NOW FUCK ME!" 

"You're so beautiful little bitch," he whispered against her neck, "and so 
fucking hot!" 

His mind was a whirlpool of passion, confused and racing, wanting to touch 
her everywhere, know every inch of her writhing, wriggling body before that 
ultimate, passionate, consuming moment. His hands and mouth worked 
feverishly over her lustfully eager flesh, pinching, prodding, kneading 
every crevice, every sensitive, erotic area of her body. He pushed himself 
down further on her nakedness until he could take the nipples of her breasts 
into his hungrily sucking mouth, flicking his tongue over her erect nipples, 
working them back and forth until they ached and she squirmed on the seat 
trying to force his lips from her breasts. 

"Relax, baby," he grunted, "this is what you wanted, remember?" 

She merely moaned as her flesh responded to his violent and urgent caresses, 
sky-rocketing her to new, carnal, lustful heights. She felt like a rag doll, 
a puppet, completely controlled by this man who tickled and tortured her 
into masochistic and thrilling positions as he manipulated every nerve 
center of her entire being. As his mouth sucked voraciously at her full, 
heaving breasts, his fingers locked underneath her hips feeling the soft, 
pli able skin of her rounded buttocks, kneading the globes like dough. His 
hands squeezed and fingers prodded between the orbs, searching for the tiny, 
elastic opening of her rectum. 

He pulled her hips up from the seat, digging his fingers into the anal 
opening and forcing one long thick finger cruelly into the channel. 

"NNoooooo," she screamed, biting her lower lip from the sudden, harsh 
impalement, but he wriggled it deeper and deeper into her yielding, brown 
orifice. 

She bucked and squirmed, tossed violently on the seat, but his weight held 
her still. Her gyrations only created a more violent and demanding lust in 
his body and he knew that he was hurting her, yet she had begged him to love 
her and he wasn't going to leave any part of her void and unsatisfied. 

He continued to slide down further on her, so that his feet were dangling 
outside the car and his knees were resting on the step of the limousine. He 
kissed the soft, white, smooth skin of her belly as she grasped desperately 
at his head and shoulders in an effort to keep him on top of her, but she 
was too weak for his desperate, fierce lust. His tongue traced a slow, wet 
pattern over the mound of her pubus and pushed against her hard, throbbing 
clitoris, sucking gently at the tiny erect nob until she groaned and twisted 
with desire. 

"Please ... please," she begged him again, "I want you ... fuck me ... NOW!" 

He knew that he was driving her out of her mind, but he wasn't going to miss 
one delicious moment of this beautiful, sensual woman. His loins were 
trembling and his penis was hot and throbbing, but he could wait just a 
little longer before burying his massive staff into the very depths of her 
belly and make her cry for mercy. His mouth closed over the damp opening of 
her vagina and his tongue separated the swollen lips of her cunt and licked 
at her moistened slit, bringing a deep, animalistic mewling sound from her 
throat. 

"OOOOOHHHHH, Ooooo," she gasped and she spread her legs even further apart 
so that she could raise her head and down between her breasts see only the 
top of his head buried between her white quivering thighs. 

"That's it," she crooned "Do it to me ... make me cum ... CUM!" 

His prick was hot and pulsing, jerking up against his hairy belly as a 
breeze caressed his loosely hanging testicles making them sway back and 
forth as he sucked and nibbled hungrily between her loins. He could taste 
the pungent wetness of her juices as she scraped her buttocks back and forth 
on the seat. His hands were still supporting the weight of her buttocks, his 
finger working deeper and deeper into her anal opening, stretching the tight 
elasticity of the tiny, puckered orifice. 

She stretched her neck backwards, the cords of her throat standing out, 
pulsing as she tried to abandon every thought except her own satisfaction, 
but she wanted to be fucked, and fucked properly, she didn't want to cum 
this way. 

"Get on me and fuck me, you bastard!" she nearly screamed, pulling futilely 
at his neck and shoulders, trying to pull him up onto her once again so that 
she could feel his long, thick prick between her legs, thrusting into her, 
pulsing in her until she came. 

She was wiggling uncontrollably beneath his mouthing and he knew that he 
would make her cum with his tongue if he didn't stop and it was becoming 
more and more difficult for him to control his own need, his own pulsing 
weight between his strong, hairy legs. 

He pulled her down further on the seat, until her hips rested on the edge of 
the seat and she was afraid that she would fall out of the car. She 
struggled to adjust her legs, but he pulled her roughly, releasing his hands 
from her buttocks and dragging her outside and forcing her to lie on the 
ground so that he would have more freedom. 

"Now," she pleaded with him, her eyes searching his face for compassion, but 
he knelt over her, his knees on either side of her waist until his huge, 
thick organ bobbed just above her face. She reached out and grasped his hips 
and tried to push him back, but he just laughed down at her and lowered his 
body until it was barely inches from her face and his testicles brushed 
against her chin, his hardened, veined penis rubbing against her lips. 

"Suck it," he commanded her, all tenderness -gone from his voice, but a 
cruel, malicious quiver in his words. 

"Nooooo, please ..." she begged, "I want you to fuck me the right way!" 

"Later," he ordered, and grabbed her face in his hands and forced his thumbs 
between her quivering lips until she had to open her mouth. In an instant he 
shoved his massive prick between her teeth. He could feel it slide into her 
throat, and he rocked back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper until she 
had to swallow to keep from choking. The entire length of his penis would 
not fit into her small, full mouth, but he continued to shove his rod into 
her relentlessly. 

"Suck it harder ... harder," he urged her as she gasped for breath when he 
pulled out every thrust. 

Her nails dug into the solid flesh of his thighs and her mouth worked on his 
jerking, hot, aching prick, feeling the thickness, the length of every inch 
of his manhood she could consume. 

"That's it, baby, suck it good!" he groaned as he felt her lips caress and 
suck his prick and he could hardly contain himself from cumming right in her 
mouth. He had never had to fight so hard to contain himself, but this was 
something so different, something that he didn't want to end. He had to feel 
her legs wrapped around him, pulling him down into her, begging him to fuck 
her, while his long, fat phallus made her say and do things that she had 
never done before. He felt invincible, his whole body was his penis, he was 
a phallus and he could make any woman do anything he wanted or demanded! He 
looked down at her face, her beautiful features, the red, pouting lips that 
had charmed magazine covers and drawn thousands, millions to the movie 
theatres, and she was swallowing his penis with them wrapped tightly around 
its huge bulging head. He wanted to laugh, cry, shout it to the world, but 
in another moment he would lose everything unless he pulled away from her 
voraciously sucking lips. 

Her grip on his thighs slackened as she felt him pull away from her face and 
she silently prayed that he would finally take her. Her body was tortured 
enough and she needed fulfillment before she lost her mind. 

Her knees fell apart, leaving herself open and vulnerable to his final 
impalement, his cruel penetration, and she wiggled her buttocks into the 
cool, damp earth, feeling the leaves scratch her tender skin. 

"Fuck me ... fuck me," she murmured weakly, as he moved between her wide 
spread thighs and hesitated momentarily before he fell on top of her letting 
the blood-red head of his penis move between her vaginal lips. 

"OOOOhhhhh yessss ... yes ..." she groaned as he slowly parted the soft, 
blonde fleece of her pubic hair and inched himself into her open, wet 
passage. 

He thrust his hips forward, feeling the fleshy warmth of her channel embrace 
and cling to the massive thickness of his prick, holding it tightly as he 
pushed deeper and deeper into her. 

"Aaaaggggghhh," she gasped as he stretched her passage with his giant, 
pulsing cudgel. 

He felt as though his penis were a cannon about to explode, firing his hot, 
fluid sperm deep into her belly. She wrapped her legs around his hips and 
pulled him into her, feeling him fill her with his manhood. Her vaginal 
walls began to quiver uncontrollably as he drove harder and deeper into her, 
tearing at her, splitting her in half. She could feel the hot, thick head of 
his phallus drub against her cervix and pound relentlessly against it until 
she knew that she was going to cum. She could hold back no longer ... 

"Give it to me," she shouted ... "Fuck me that's it, I'm going to cum! Oh 
God, I'm going to ... to cum!" 

His penis was jerking inside her as he felt her vagina contract and release 
around his huge, throbbing staff. 

"Sat it again," he demanded, gritting his teeth, about to explode inside 
her. 

"Fuck me ... I'M CUMMING!" she gasped. 

As she clung to him, her nails dug cruelly into his back as she completed 
the throes of her climax, bucking and writhing on the ground. 

"Feel me cum," he choked, "Here it is!" 

His testicles were slapping against her upturned buttocks as he shot his hot 
sperm into her belly. His penis became even thicker as he jerked 
convulsively against her hips, filling her with his life-giving liquid. 

"God, baby," he groaned as he released his pent-up passion into her, "You're 
so good!" 

She relaxed slightly as he emptied himself into her, enjoying a conquering 
feeling that she had made him cum too! She had wanted him, but ultimately 
she had conquered him, she had made him cum deep up inside her and there had 
been nothing he could do about it. 

He lay on top of her, breathing heavily, his hands sprawled out, grasping at 
leaves and dirt, his chest heaving as he relaxed on top of her body. 

She wiggled uncomfortably beneath him, struggling to put her legs together 
and get up. His deflated penis slid hesitantly from between her thighs and 
he rolled over on his back in an effort to regain his composure. 

She leaned over his prostrate body and kissed him lightly on the cheek and 
smiled. 

"You're quite a lover," she whispered. 

He looked up at her and grinned back, knowing that neither one of them would 
mention the incident again. It was one of those things that just happen, an 
incurable, animalistic need and they had satisfied each other like two 
shadows in the night and that was all, nothing more. 

She no longer felt ashamed as she looked at him, then got up and walked back 
to the car and began to get dressed. He chuckled softly to himself and 
thought that no one would believe him, even if he were inclined to repeat 
the story, but it was their own secret, and somehow it was one that he would 
keep. He could never be sure when she would call on him again, and he didn't 
want to take the chance of ruining what could turn into an interesting, and 
satisfying relationship! It still puzzled him why she would have to 
encourage a man to make love to her, why she would act the way she did in 
the car before they stopped, but he didn't want to ask, and in fact, he 
didn't care. She had given him a little, what more could a man ask ... ? 

 Chapter 2 

They spent the rest of the trip in silence, neither one wanting to break the 
mood. Jennifer didn't want to think about what had happened, she didn't want 
to think about anything, she just wanted to relax and sleep. Her body was 
satisfied, if she could only put her mind at ease. She closed leer eves and 
let the hum of the tires be her lullabye until she dozed. Edmond looked back 
at leer from time to time and smiled to himself, the whole experience still 
unreal to him. Ile found it difficult to keep from thinking about the next 
time, if there were to be a next time, that they would make love and it 
excited him. He drove slowly so that the bumps in the road would not waken 
her and he would have a longer time with her. 

She slept for the remainder of the trip, waking only when Edmond had stopped 
the car in front of a small hotel and shaking her gently. 

"We're here," he told her, taking her hand and Helping her from the ear. 

He was grinning at her as if he were waiting for a further invitation to 
join her, but she just looked at him passively and walked into the lobby. He 
followed, carrying her bags. She planned to rest for several days before 
deciding what she would do, whether she would remain in Europe or return to 
the United States. She wasn't sure whether her husband was still in Paris, 
but she doubted it, - he had no reason to be there since she had left him. 
She was sure that he would be anxious to get back to his work and protect 
his ego by destroying her. image and her whole theatre career. 

It was difficult for her to think about what he had done to her, how he had 
humiliated her, punished her and had enjoyed it so thoroughly. She wondered 
if she had been so totally blind or whether he had just been that expert in 
disguising his true character. At any rate, that was all behind her and she 
had to make a new life for herself. 

"Will you need me for anything further," Edmond asked her, his hint obvious 
to her, but she shook her head. 

"I don't think so," she replied, "at least not for the next few days. Will 
you stay in Paris or return to Nice?" 

"I'll be here in case you need me, I have no other assignments." 

"Well, I'll call your service in a day or so," she commented, then excused 
herself. 

It didn't take her long to unpack - and since she had slept most of the trip 
she wasn't really tired. She lay down and tried to sleep, but the noises 
from the city streets kept her wide awake, so she changed her clothes and 
decided to go out for a drink and something to eat. She hadn't eaten all day 
and although she wasn't very hungry, she decided to try the small cafe she 
noticed when she had gotten out of the -car. 

The bellmen and hotel employees were swarming through the lobby of the hotel 
and several of them smiled at her and told her that they hoped that she had 
a pleasant stay. The Frenchmen were all so obvious with their admiration, 
and she could hear the whispers about her as she walked outside into the 
cool Paris air. 

She wished that she had brought a sweater and she folded her arms in front 
of her to keep her from shaking with a chill. She walked quickly to the 
nearby cafe, her hips shaking sensuously as she quickened her steps. The 
breeze molded the material of her skirt to the contours of her thighs as it 
clung protectively, but had blown just above her knees. The cafe was nearly 
empty so she chose a table in the back of the room where she would be away 
from the draft of the door. 

"Bonjour," the waiter greeted her, his eyes appraising her with one quick 
glance. 

"Good afternoon," she said curtly, "May I have a pernod and water?" 

"Certainly, madame," he answered formally, hoping that he hadn't offended 
her. 

When he returned, she sipped the cloudy drink slowly, letting the taste of 
licorice cool her parched throat. She looked around the tiny room, but there 
were no other patrons, just the waiter, the bartender and herself. 

Cod, I wish that I weren't here alone, she thought as she finished the rest 
of her drink and motioned to the waiter to bring her another. She didn't 
know whom she would like to be with, but this was the first time she had 
ever really been alone and it frightened her somewhat. She had plenty of 
money, at least enough to last her for several weeks and then she could wire 
the studio for more if they would send it. She wondered exactly what her 
husband had told the studio, what fantastic story he had dreamed up to 
scandalize her and ruin her career. His mind had been so warped that she 
knew that he could have said anything, anything at all. 

The second pernod went down more smoothly than the first and she settled 
back into the corner of the booth and propped up her feet opposite her. She 
wanted to talk to someone, a stranger, someone who knew nothing about her, 
someone who would not cater to her because she was a star, a famous actress. 
She wondered if this were possible in Paris since many of her films had been 
shown there and her picture had appeared in the papers and the magazines 
there, but she could hope. 

The waiter walked by her table and asked her if she would like something 
else because he was going off duty soon and someone else would be taking his 
place. She looked at him for a moment and said, "Yes, another pernod, and 
your cornpany if you have time." 

He looked at her, not knowing what to say. She was the most beautiful woman 
he had ever seen and was very flattered that she would want to spend some 
time with him. 

"It would be my pleasure," he assured her. "I will be free in about a half 
an hour." 

She smiled and nodded and accepted the third drink. He walked back to the 
bar shaking his head. He had been propositioned by many tourists, but they 
were mostly the terribly young girls who had heard rumors about French 
lovers and wanted to see for themselves, or the older dowagers, the rich 
widows who found it amusing to be accompanied by a younger, virile, 
attentive man, but she was different and the prospect excited him. 

He seems pleasant enough, she thought to herself, and maybe he will be able 
to suggest some things I can do to keep from being bored, yet she knew that 
the boredom was not in her mind, but in her body. She had changed so much 
since she first went to Hollywood that it was difficult for her to remember 
what it had been like to refuse a man, to not use her body to get what she 
wanted. She had even used her body to seduce her own father! She shuddered 
at the thought, yet she couldn't regret it, the only fear she had was that 
he might discover that it had been her, and yet, she knew if she had the 
chance she would do it all over again ... and... sooner or later she would 
get the chance. 

The drinks were making her loose and carefree since she was drinking on an 
empty stomach, but she wasn't quite so depressed and lonely as the alcohol 
warmed her insides. She was just finishing -her third drink when the young' 
waiter slipped into the booth next to her. 

"Is this your first trip to Paris?" he asked, trying to seem casual although 
his heart was pounding fiercely. 

"No, not really. I spent some time here just a few weeks ago, but I didn't 
do much then, so maybe you could say that it is my first time." 

"You'll find that it's a very romantic city," he assured her. "The weather 
is damp this time of year, but the warmth of the city comes from within." 

She smiled at him, thinking that he sounded like a travel agent trying to 
sell her a twenty-one day excursion. 

"I'm sure I'll love it here as soon as I get acquainted. My French isn't as 
good as I thought it was," she laughed, "and I guess the natives find this 
offensive." 

"I'd be happy to speak for you," he told her, "that is, if you'd let me." 

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea at all," she answered. 

"Let's get out of here, though. I don't like the eyes of the management on 
me, if you know what I mean." 

"What do you suggest?" she asked, not really caring what he had in mind. 

"I know a club on the Left Bank that you might like. It's not a tourist 
place, yet the entertainment is amusing. It's something different and you 
may like it." 

"Sounds channing ... and interesting, let's go." 

She finished her drink and took his arm as they walked from the little cafe. 
He hailed a taxi and the driver took off down the narrow streets, weaving in 
and out of the other cars so that she was thrown against her companion 
several times. 

"You'll get used to the driving," he laughed. "I hear that it's worse than 
New York!" 

"It is," she said simply, hanging onto the door handle for balance. 

It didn't take them long to reach the Rue Didot, a quaint street lined with 
book stalls, small houses and a scattering of what appeared to be resident 
hotels. 

"It isn't very fashionable, but it is interesting," he commented. He told 
the driver to stop at the next corner and they got out. She looked around, 
but didn't see anything that even resembled a club, at least not the way she 
had imagined the Paris clubs to be, but he took her hand and led her to a 
narrow doorway in the middle of the block. 

"This is it?" she asked dubiously. 

"I told you it wasn't a tourist place, so the decor is simple. Come on." 

She followed him mechanically through the doorway and into a long, dimly lit 
room. The sultry voice of Patachou filled the room and several groups of 
people were sitting around sipping wine and talking. 

He seated her at a table near the front of the room where there was a small, 
raised, dias that she assumed was the stage, and ordered a large carafe of 
wine. 

"You know," she asked, "I don't even know your name." 

"It's Regis," he answered, "and yours?" 

She hesitated, then said, "Jennifer:" 

She didn't want to give her last name and he didn't ask her, it wasn't 
important. 

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she noticed that most of the group 
were men, however there were a few middle-aged women and a scattering of 
younger people, all of whom looked fairly wealthy. Somehow they didn't seem 
to fit into his dismal place, but she said nothing and just waited to see 
what would happen. 

"The show should begin shortly," he told her. "Very few people know about 
this place, and it is unique, even in Paris." 

He looked at her, waiting for a reaction, for a question, but she said 
nothing and just sipped her wine. He couldn't figure her out, she didn't fit 
into the picture of the average tourist, the type that would pick up a 
waiter in a cafe, but he wasn't going to pursue it any further. 

The music began to get louder and multicolored lights flickered on the stage 
and a young, sensuous girl moved into the spotlight. 

"That's Nadine," he told her, "She's quite popular in this section of 
Paris." 

"She's very pretty," she said. 

"Wait 'til you see all of her charms," he teased. "She's quite something." 

Jennifer had heard of the striptease clubs in Paris, but this was the first 
time that she had been to one, and as the girl began to undulate in the 
quickly changing lights she suddenly had the feeling that this would be no 
ordinary show. 

Her slim, muscular body moved in quick, tentative poses so that the light 
could catch the outline of her full, ripe body as she teased the audience. 
Her breasts jiggled beneath the thin material of her garment and it was 
obvious that she had little or nothing on beneath the flimsy gown. Her face 
was expressionless except for just a trace of a smile when she faced the 
audience. It seemed [[s though she were smiling privately to every man in 
the room as she danced and swayed to the beat of the music. Jennifer looked 
at the faces of the men around her as they were intent on her every 
movement, and Regis was no exception. She felt a pang of jealousy because he 
was no loner giving her his undivided attention, yet she couldn't blame him. 
The girl was exciting and even she found it difficult to keep her eyes away 
from her. The movements of her body suggested an intimacy, promised delight 
to every man in the room. Swaying her hips, she turned her back to the 
audience and unfastened a clip at the top of her tunic-like gown and let it 
slither down over her gyrating hips, revealing an even sheerer layer of 
cloth through which you could see a tiny gstring clinging to her hips and 
buttocks and a narrow band supporting her round, full breasts. She turned 
around slowly, silhouetting her luscious figure for everyone to ogle. The 
men held their breath as she moved across the stage, the very sheerness of 
her covering making her even more desirable with the anticipation of what 
was beneath. Jennifer could feel the electricity in the air and she quivered 
nervously and took another large gulp of her wine. Regis moved his chair 
closer to hers and she felt his hand tighten on her knee, squeezing the soft 
flesh of her lower thigh. 

The girl's buttocks hollowed gently as she moved, the round fullness of her 
hips accentuated even more so than before. 

Her movements increased with the beat of the music and it didn't seem 
possible that the tiny strips of cloth that hid her buttocks and breasts 
would be able to stay in place. The hardened nipples of her breasts strained 
against their binding and seemed to ache for freedom, but she waited, 
teasing the audience until loud, fitful breathing could be heard throughout 
the room. Her breasts wobbled slightly in more of a sensitive quiver as she 
stretched her arms out beside her, raising them slowly, temptingly above her 
head. 

She began to rotate her hips in a circular fashion, slowly at first then 
with a growing ferocity as her head swayed from side to side. She spun 
around and around on the stage as if building to a continuous orgasm, every 
part of her body pushing and straining against the thin costume. She worked 
her way from one end of the small stage to the other, showing the audience 
every angle of her voluptuous body, every sensuous curve. 

Jennifer began to squirm in her chair, feeling a burning sensation build in 
her loins. This beautiful girl had mesmerized every man in the room with her 
body movements, her twisting and turning and she wished secretly that she 
were on the stage, that the eyes of the men were upon her. Regis leaned over 
and kissed her tenderly on the side of the neck, sending shivers of passion 
and anticipation through her entire being. 

The dancer continued her wild gyrations for several more minutes, then in 
what seemed to be a mere second, she unfastened the clasp that was holding 
her brassiere and let it fall to the floor of the stage. Her breasts were 
full and firm and stood out proudly like two firm, gelatinous mounds, and 
you could hear the men gasp as she leaned forward so that they hung down 
from her body, ripe and inviting, then straightened suddenly, causing them 
to bounce and jiggle temptingly. Jennifer could feel the nipples of her own 
breasts become taut and hard. Regis moved his hand further up on her thigh 
so that he could feel the softness of her flesh above the silky tightness of 
her stockings, and his fingers massaged expertly, working closer and closer 
to the tight elastic of her thin panties. 

She nestled down further in her chair, urging him slightly, encouraging his 
touch, hoping that she could quiet the churning in her stomach. She glanced 
down to where Regis' hand was hidden beneath her skirt and then studied the 
growing bulge that was becoming more and more obvious inside his trousers. 
All the men were breathing heavily and even the women seemed to be caught up 
in the sensual movements of the girls. Their legs were pressed tightly 
together as they, too, felt the same gnawing sensation that was devouring 
her. 

"Enjoying the act?" Regis whispered to her, his breath hot against her ear 
and neck. 

She couldn't speak, she had never seen anything so primitive, so lustful 
before and she couldn't explain what affect it was having on her except that 
she was building her own desire to an uncontrollable frenzy. She wondered if 
the girl would remove the thin g-string that hid the only part of her body 
from the staring eyes of the audience. She began to move more slowly now, 
letting everyone present hilt after her lithe, muscular, undulating body, 
when the music suddenly became louder and more insistent. A steady drum beat 
seemed to come from out of the walls of the small cafe and she lowered 
herself to the floor of the stage and began to wiggle and squirm, raising 
and lowering her hips as if she were with an imaginary lover. Everyone was 
sitting on the edge of their chairs in expectation, disbelieving, yet almost 
in a catatonic state, mesmerized, by the beautiful girl. Regis' fingers were 
now playing with the tight elastic of her panties and she wished that he 
would hurry and cover her own throbbing mound with his hot, moist hand. 

"Oooooohhh," she groaned softly, and Regis turned his head to watch the 
abandoned look she had in tier eyes as he slipped one long finger inside her 
panties. She let her legs fall apart slightly so that he could feel the heat 
of her passion easily and quickly. It didn't matter that he was just a man 
she had picked up, that she didn't even know him, her lust had grown to such 
a monumental height that something had to quell it. 

The dancing girl rolled over on her side so that her back was to the 
audience and they could view the fullness of her buttocks, the narrowness of 
her hips as she jerked back and forth. When she lay on her back again, the 
last bit of covering was removed and she was completely naked, her long, 
slim legs trembling with desire as she bucked and writhed in time to the 
music. She spread her legs slightly apart so that the people sitting nearest 
to the stage were afforded a glimpse of the pink, moist treasure between her 
legs. 

"God," someone moaned and the air in the club was still, no one moving, 
almost afraid to breathe, when the drum beat became louder and louder and a 
giant of a man, dressed only in a loin cloth leaped onto the stage. She had 
never seen a man so huge, so muscular, so primitive looking. His skin was 
dark olive and glistened in the dim lights. He wore a turban around his head 
which made him appear even taller than he was. He stood over the writhing 
girl who looked up at him through glazed eyes. His loin cloth was rising and 
falling as his monstrous penis bobbed anxiously beneath it, teasing the 
frustrated, squirming girl and he leered down at her like a vulture about to 
attack its prey. He reached down and pulled the girl to him so that she was 
on her knees in front of him. Deftly her hands untied the single string that 
held his covering and threw it on the floor to join the tiny pile of her own 
clothing. He was grinning maliciously down at her, knowing that she wanted 
to take him, but Jennifer thought that no woman would be able to accommodate 
such a giant of a roan. 

His testicles hung loosely between his legs, heavy and full of his hot, 
liquid sperm and her fingers tickled them gently, feeling the weight in her 
hands. His erection was in full view, powerfid and threatening as he rotated 
his hips toward the seemingly paralyzed girl. Her eyes were filled with mock 
fright at the immensity of his organ, yet she could not take her hands from 
the strong, muscular calves of his legs. He pulled her to her feet and 
swayed his body back and forth, holding her just close enough so that his 
long, thick baton brushed against the smoothness of her belly. She, too, 
began to sway in time to the music, moving her hips closer and closer toward 
his, yet he held her away, teasing her. 

Jennifer's lips were dry and she found it difficult to swallow as Regis 
began to search for the nub of her clitoris beneath her panties. She 
squirmed down and forward in her seat in an effort to help him, but he 
waited, brushing his finger just over and around the tiny, hardened tit of 
flesh. Her hand grasped his and held it tightly in place, the tingling, 
burning feeling between her legs about to consume her. She could not take 
her eyes away from the huge Indian, his mammoth organ as he worked with the 
gyrating girl. Regis smiled to himself as he watched the tortured look on 
her face us she viewed the Kist-filled spectacle, knowing that she would be 
so ripe for him that she would beg him to make love to her when the show was 
over. 

The Indian bent the woman backwards, his mouth closing on her throbbing, 
jiggling breasts, sticking noisily on her full, hard nipples. The girl 
seemed to go limp in his arms and he had to support her entire weight with 
his two strong, huge hands. The girl's eyes were partially closed. but she 
still had a terrified expression as she caught glimpses of his monstrous, 
pulsing organ as it bobbed up toward his belly. Her head swayed from side to 
side as if she were imploring him to let her go, yet her body moved 
snake-like like a magnet closer and closer to his. 

Finally Regis began to fondle and manipulate the damp, hard rob of 
Jennifer's clitoris and she groaned out in passion, not caring who heard 
her. His fingers worked expertly, rubbing and teasing her, feeling the 
dampness of her desire as he fingered her beneath her skirt. 

The couple on the stage writhed and moved in varied masochistic and sensual 
positions until gasps and moans filled the audience. The women stared, 
horrified at the size of the Indian and the men reveled in the seduction and 
debasement that was inevitable. 

The girl collapsed on the floor, her knees buckling underneath her and the 
Indian released her hands so that she could support herself. Her full, round 
buttocks waved back at her seducer, her thighs spread slightly, revealing 
the tiny aperture of her vagina for all to see. The giant stood -above her 
grinning sadistically, then he, too, dropped to his knees and his strong 
hands circled her slim waist. His penis was jerking and throbbing violently, 
the head of his monstrous rod purple from his lust as he moved closer and 
closer behind the kneeling girl. The women gasped as he moved up next to 
her, feeling the pain of his thick intrusion, but he left his giant phallus 
rest just at the tight, quivering lips of her vagina for a moment before he 
pulled the girl roughly back onto him, impaling her Nvith one long cruel 
thrust. The girls eyes bulged open in horror and pain as he rammed his 
torturing staff into her. 

"Aaaaggggghhh," she groaned as he held her firmly, in place, rocking his 
hard thighs against the soft, roundness of her buttocks. 

Jennifer was squirming uncontrollably in her chair as Regis slipped one 
long, thick finger just inside her damp vaginal opening. 

"God ... God," she moaned, wishing that he would take her right then, it was 
more than she could bear. 

The Indian was beginning to grunt and moan as he rocked his huge, hard organ 
into the girls opening and she moaned softly in complete submission. They 
seemed to become one body, one sensual, animalistic body moving back and 
forth in time to the music that was becoming louder and faster as they built 
to their orgasm. 

Regis grabbed Jennifer's other hand and placed it on his hard, thick 
erection so that she could feel the heat of his desire and what he had to 
offer her. His penis throbbed and jerked under her touch and she squeezed it 
gently, feeling its length and hardness and wishing that it were inside of 
her. 

"OOOOOOOOIIHHHHHH," the girl nearly screamed as the Indian thrust into her 
with all his pent-up fury and lust and the roll of the drums became a 
continuous drone as the couple on the stage each began to build to their 
climax. It didn't seem possible that the small girl could take such a large 
man, vet she ground her hips backyards as though she .were entirely empty 
inside without him. The Indian's body stiffened and jerked and he pulled her 
hips backwards once again as he quivered, then groaned and began to spill 
his boiling sperm deep into the depths of her belly. The two staved locked 
together for several more minutes, wriggling and bucking, thriving on each 
delicious moment of their own satisfaction when the music began to slacken 
and become quiet once again. 

Regis' finger worked furiously inside her and she thought that she would cum 
right then, but she wanted to have him inside her, she wanted to feel him 
cum inside her as the Indian had cum inside the other girl. As the music 
became softer, you could hear the breathing in the room become more regular, 
each one having lived vicariously through the sensual display as though they 
themselves had been one of the participants. 

The Indian released his tight, restricting grip on the girls waist and 
slowly withdrew his still large, but deflated organ from inside her, long 
white strings of his orgasm following his cock away. She collapsed exhausted 
onto the stage, completely degraded by his unexpectedly brutal assault, yet 
obviously completely satisfied. As the curtain came slowly down, the Indian 
laughed wickedly and they could hear a resounding slap behind it as he must 
have smacked her on her quivering buttocks, then footsteps leaving the 
stage. 

Regis reluctantly withdrew his finger from inside the legband of Jennifer's 
moistened silk panties and she looked at him, desire burning in her eyes. 

"You like the show," he said mockingly. "You'll not see another like it in 
Paris?" 

She nodded, unable to speak, and gulped down the rest of her wine and 
followed him mechanically out of the club and down the street to a small, 
dingy-looking hotel. 

"Come on," he told her, taking her hand and leading her up the broken wooden 
stairs and down a musty hallway. She knew that she should protest, yet she 
knew that she wouldn't ... or couldn't, even if she had wanted to ... 

 Chapter 3 

"Is this where you live?" she asked nervously. "Is that how you know about 
the club?" 

"I live here sometimes," he grinned, "but that's not how I found out about 
the club." 

She was nervous, her initial desire having waned when she left the cafe, but 
she knew that he had brought her here for only one reason, and that she had 
come. 

"There's some more wine on the window sill," he told her, as he stripped off 
his shirt. "Help yourself." 

She walked to the window and pulled back the curtain and looked out. His 
room faced another building just a foot or so away, so that there was no 
sunlight and no fresh air. She trembled as she poured the burgundy into a 
water glass and sipped at it cautiously. 

She could feel his eyes staring at her and she wanted to put down her glass 
and run, but he was blocking the doorway. He walked up in back of her and 
put his arms around her waist, then cupped her full, round breasts in his 
hands, squeezing them gently. 

"Time for our own show," he whispered throatily, nuzzling the back of her 
neck. 

She started to say something, but he took the glass from her hand and placed 
it on a table next to the bed, turned her around and kissed her fiercely and 
deeply. She wanted to fight him, but he held her tight and hard, his tongue 
flicking between her slightly parted teeth as his body crushed into hers. 
She could feel his erection, already hard and pulsing through his trousers 
and she struggled slightly to get away. 

"What are you afraid of," he asked, guiding her towards the wrought-iron 
bed. 

"N-n-nothing," she stammered, knowing that anything she said would sound 
ridiculous since just a half hour before they had both sat, entranced by 
another couple fucking each other silly and he had already prepared her for 
what was going to take place. 

"Come on, baby," he whispered, "You're a big girl!" 

His eyes were clouded with lust as he pushed her onto the hard springs of 
the bed. She felt herself go limp as he unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it 
from her shoulders. His touch was gentle, but insistent and she knew that 
she could not escape. Her breasts were heaving, straining against her 
brassiere as he lay down next to her, pulling her skirt up over her hips and 
his fingers gripped the soft, firm flesh of her thigh. 

"You're a beautiful little cunt," he groaned, his face smothering the rise 
of her breasts with hurried, anxious kisses. He reached in back of her and 
unfastened the catch of her brassiere and pulled it up so that it lay across 
her neck and his lips covered the large, pink nipples of her quivering 
breasts until she moaned and her nails dug hungrily into the hard flesh of 
his back. 

"Oh God," she gasped, feeling her passion being awakened once again as he 
deftly removed her skirt from around her hips. 

He stood up for just a moment and quickly removed his trousers and shorts so 
that his full, hard erection sprung into her view. His penis was thick, 
almost as thick as the Indian's and she stared at him, afraid and trembling. 
He bent over her, his huge phallus jerking just over her belly as he yanked 
at her garter and stockings, pulling them from her with one ripping motion 
so that her bikini panties were the only thing covering her. He fell on the 
bed alongside of her, his fingers searching and pinching every inch of 
exposed flesh, and guided her hand down to the vee of his loins until her 
fingers barely circled his lustfully throbbing cock. She felt a strange, 
almost sadistic power as she held his hot, pulsing penis in her hand and she 
began to manipulate it back and forth. He bit harshly at her tender, 
voluptuous breasts, sucking cruelly until she thought that she would be 
bruised, as his hands slid beneath the silk of her panties and forced them 
down over her knees. 

"Easy," he murmured. "easy!" 

She knew that as long as she held onto his thick, jerking rod she had 
control of him, that she could make him wait until she was ready and she 
began to relax. She couldn't believe that she had given herself to, him so 
easily, that she had given herself to her chauffeur so easily, but it seemed 
as though an insatiable desire was governing her body and she had to have a 
lover, no matter who it was. She wiggled her body teasingly against him, 
knowing that she was driving him out of his mind. He had taken her to his 
room to seduce her, but she knew that it was actually she who had done the 
seducing! 

She didn't know why she had this strange compulsion, yet in the back of her 
mind she kept seeing her father making love to that other woman and knew 
that she was doing this to punish him, punish him for not loving her, loving 
her exclusively. She had needed him when she was younger, before she had 
even gone to Hollywood, but he was always away or too busy, so now she was 
making up for the years of love that she had missed. 

His hand closed over her pubus as his fingers prodded and searched between 
the swollen lips of her vagina, rubbing them, teasing them, manipulating 
them until she was squirming beneath his touch. 

She stroked his throbbing prick with nervous, fluttering gestures, then held 
it firmly and squeezed it so hard .that he gasped as her hand crushed the 
resistant, spongy tissue. Her nails tickled his loose-hanging. testicles, 
flicking them back and forth between his trembling legs and he inserted one 
finger deep into her aching cunt, wiggling it viciously in retaliation. 

"Oooooooo," she groaned as his nails scraped the sensitive lining of her 
vagina. "Nooooo, not so hard!" she gasped. 

His fingers were mauling her breasts, the flesh of her hips and buttocks and 
she cried in pain as she felt his other hand slip in back of her and prod 
cruelly at the, opening of her anus. She turned her hips slightly to avoid 
the harsh impalement and bit passionately into the side of his neck. He 
jerked away from her in the pain, then raised his body so that he could 
kneel over her. His hands and fingers entwined in her hair and yanked her 
head backwards so that her neck was stretched backwards on the bed. 

"You want it so badly, do you?" he growled at her, half angry from her 
viciousness, and she just stared up at him; frightened at his change in 
tone. "You're just like any other little slut off the street that wants a 
man's cock rammed up in her belly. Well, by God, you're gonna get one now 
like ya never had it before!" 

He moved up on the bed so that her arms were pinioned by his knees and his 
jerking rod was throbbing just above her head. 

"Suck it," he demanded, "you little tramp ... suck it!'' 

Tears of humiliation and fear began to well in her eyes as she looked up at 
his huge, thick organ as it bobbed just above her. His hands forced her head 
up so that her lips touched the damp, blood-red head of his penis and he 
forced his hips forward. 

His thumbs reached inside her mouth and forced her mouth open as he rammed 
the full length of his lust-hardened cock deep into her throat. She felt 
sick and wanted to choke, but all she could do was swallow and gasp for air 
as he rocked back and forth above her. 

"Harder," he demanded, his hands holding her head in a vice-like grip. "Suck 
it harder!" 

All the tenderness was gone from his eyes, any pity he may have had for her. 
She had led him on like a whore and now she was being treated like one. She 
wished that she could protest, explain that she didn't mean anything, but it 
was too late for that. His teeth were set in a clenched line as he watched 
her soft, red lips close around his throbbing manhood. Her tongue flicked 
briefly over his glans and he had to steel himself against his climax. Ile 
wanted her to suffer in her desire, suffer for the careless pain she had 
caused him, and he couldn't lose control of himself, not,yet. 

Her arms ached from the weight and pressure of his knees, but he did not 
move an inch, he had her right where he wanted her and she was in his power 
now. She felt helpless, degraded and tortured, yet it excited her in a 
masochistic way and she sucked more and more voraciously on his thick, 
leaden penis. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ..." he gasped as she curled her tongue around the head of 
his aching prick and sucked harshly, like a madwoman, a woman obsessed. He 
drove his hips forward, forcing his hard, throbbing prick deeper and deeper 
into her throat. Her eyes were closed as she licked and sucked on him so he 
released his grip on her hair and his hands grasped the voluptuous, firm 
globes of her breasts and squeezed them cruelly. Ile pinched and tickled the 
nipples until they stood erect and throbbing, pinpricked with wanton desire. 

Her thighs were trembling and shaking as he expertly found and stimulated 
every nerve center of her body. Her eyes opened and looked at him 
pleadingly, begging him to satisfy her needs and he grinned down at her. 

"Baby," he groaned as he let his rigid organ slip from between her wet lips 
and jerk spasmodically above her head. 

"Oooooohh," she gasped, filling her hangs with air. 

He lay down, half on top of her, so that she could feel the heat of his 
prick against her waist and hips as he traced a sensual pattern with his 
tongue down over her breasts and belly. She was shaking visibly now, her 
whole being shattered by her animalistic desire. 

"Yes ... Yes ..." she groaned and spread her legs wider as he moved down on 
the bed and his mouth nibbled at the quivering flesh of her thighs. His 
fingers probed and separated the lips of her vagina as they ran fluidly over 
the tiny, aching slit. His mouth was so close, so tempting, but instead he 
inserted two fingers deep into the well of her cunt, wiggling them, tickling 
her, torturing her. 

"Please ... please ..." she begged him, her hands clawing at the back of his 
neck in an effort to force his mouth down on her, but still he held back, 
knowing he had her where he wanted her and could flick her any time he was 
ready. 

She bucked and writhed, wiggling her hips up toward his face, but his hands 
held her down. 

"Please ... please," she groaned, "I can't stand it." 

He knew that she was nearing her apex as he bit harshly into the inner part 
of her thigh. 

"Aaaagggggghh," she screamed as he moved hurriedly upward on her body, 
afraid that she would cum without him. 

She could feel the hardness of his throbbing penis against her legs and she 
spread her thighs wider so that his hips fit between hers. 

"NOW ... NOW," she choked, "NOW!" 

He let his thick, jerking organ rest at the tiny opening of her vagina for 
just a second before parting the soft curls of her pubic hair with its head 
and thrusting it inside her with all his strength, filling her to the tip of 
her cervix. 

She raised her knees slightly, but he grabbed them and forced them farther 
back so that they touched her shoulders. 

"It's so deep," she moaned, "Soooo deep." 

"Oh baby," he gasped as he felt his pulsing cock slip in and out of her 
tight, moist channel. 

"Fuck me ... yes ... fuck me," she begged, "Harder." 

He pushed into her with increased fury, pounding and slamming his hips 
against hers, grasping the cushions of her buttocks and lifting her slightly 
off the bed. 

"Is it nice, baby," he asked. "Does it feel good?" 

"Ooohhh yes," she crooned, knowing that her climax was just a few seconds 
away. She could feel herself becoming wetter with each thrust and her 
vaginal walls began to twitch with an urgency that was about to explode. His 
penis seemed to become even thicker with each painful thrust as his 
throbbing rod of flesh filled her soft squirming belly completely. ' 

That's it, baby," he urged her, sensing that she was near her climax. "Come 
on!" 

"OOOOOOOOHIIIIHIIH," she groaned as a wave of trembling excitement shuddered 
her whole body and she began to shake visibly as her vaginal walls began to 
contract wildly around his thickening, throbbing penis. 

Her nails raked a harsh pattern down his back as she bucked and jerked up 
against him, feeling his manhood worming deep around in the pit of her 
belly. 

"Aaaggggghh, I'm cumming ... cummitig ... CUMMING," she gasped, as her 
waiting tensions and frustrations were released in one sudden great 
cataclysmic burst of searing flame. 

Her thighs jerked wildly at his then away, her whole body heaving and 
swaying, her passion consumed in the skin-to-skin friction and her face 
flushed with the warm, comforting glow of deep satiation and fatigue. 

But, above her, on and on he pounded. He couldn't get enough of her as his 
hands dug cruel ly into the softness of her rounded buttocks, and he could 
feel his hard, thick manhood swell and tremble inside her moist, warm 
channel. His urge was destructive as he thrust deeper and deeper into her, 
wanting to consume her, feeling powerful as he arched his hips at her 
upturned thighs in an effort to force himself further and further into her 
soft, squeezing vagina. Her face was contorted in passion as her nails dug 
cruelly into his back and spine and her full, luscious breasts splayed out 
under his weight, imprinting her hardened nipples into his chest. Her naked 
body heaved and wriggled in great choking gasps as her thighs trembled and 
shivered in her abandoned passion, and he drove iii long, hard, steady 
strokes deep into her moist throbbing opening. 

He was trembling with his anticipated climax as she pulled him in closer and 
closer to her, attempting to draw every bit of life's blood from the head of 
his desperately pulsating penis. 

She clutched at him so furiously that he knew that he would not be able to 
wait much longer, yet he didn't want to chin yet, he didn't want this 
delicious moment to end. Her mouth searched for his and her teeth bit 
cruelly at his lips as she felt him buried so deep inside her. 

"Cum in me ... oh, yes . . :Fill my belly!" she groaned, as the glans of his 
hardened penis tickled and prodded at the tip of her cervix. Her knees 
tightened around his rib cage and held him firmly inside her. 

He was breathing heavily, panting like a man being chased and terrorized as 
he drove his thick bludgeon into her with increased fury, building, 
building, to his final climax. He knew that he was hurting her, but this 
only increased his passion and desire. He wanted to wound her with his hard, 
cruel penis, cut her in half, tear her apart with his passion. He heard her 
choke little helpless gasps as his hands tightened around her and his groans 
mixed with hers as he felt the first searing release of his sperm into her 
belly. 

"Aaaaaggggh," he moaned as his penis thickened and slackened as he stayed 
buried inside her, filling her almost to the bursting point with his hot, 
liquid sperm. 

"Yes ... yes ... yes," she whimpered, feeling him cum and jerk like a 
slippery, writhing snake deep inside her vaginal passage and she raised her 
hips to receive every ounce of his tribute. 

His orgasm seemed to splinter his rigid flesh and he choked and gasped as he 
emptied himself deep into her waiting channel, satiating him, relieving him, 
calming him with each violent contraction. It seemed to be taking the very 
life from his body, leaving him weak and vulnerable, but she, too, had 
collapsed in an exhausted heap, her legs falling down loosely, wide-spread, 
on either side of his heaving hips and buttocks. His breathing gradually 
began to regulate as he felt his once hard penis slip reluctantly from 
inside her and fall limply on the bed covers. 

"Darling," she whispered, "Oh darling." 

"Mmmmmmmmmm," was his only answer as his hands gently fondled her heaving 
breasts, playing lazily with her still hardened nipples. 

She was trembling from the violent release of her climax and his urgency, 
and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to . walk if she had to at that 
moment, so she sighed heavilv and tried to ease the tension from her body. 

She took his head gently in her hands and kissed his forehead, feeling the 
moisture of his perspiration on her lips. 

"Darling," she murmured again, then tears of relief and shame began to roll 
down her pink, flushed cheeks. 

"Hush, baby," he crooned. "It's not all that bad ... it was beautiful." 

"Oh daddy," she whispered, "Oh daddy," her words barely audible. 

"What's that, baby?" he asked. 

"Nothing," she answered harshly as though she were chastizing him for what 
he had just made her feel. 

 Chapter 4 

"Do you want to go back to your hotel:'" he asked hesitantly, not really 
wanting her to leave, feeling a deep tenderness of her strange helplessness. 

"Yes, I guess I'd better," she stammered, getting up from the bed and 
walking to the basin to bathe herself and get dressed. 

He watched her as she dressed self-consciously, turning her back to him. 

"You're very beautiful," he told her, hoping to lift her depressed spirits. 

"I don't feel very beautiful," she answered in an even tone, not turning to 
look at him. 

"Will I see you again'?" he asked, really feeling that he wanted to see her 
again no longer feeling a sense of power over her. He was afraid that she 
would say, no and then he wondered what he would do. 

"Do you really want to?" she asked incredulously, not believing that he 
could possibly be interested in her, a common pick-tip, or at least that was 
the way she had acted. 

"Yes, very much," he whispered. "I'd like to see a lot of you." 

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, not that it really mattered anymore, he 
knew what she was! 

"You're Jennifer ... my Jennifer," he answered. "What else do I have to 
know?" 

"You're very sweet," she said, turning to face him for the first time since 
she had gotten out of bed. 

"You don't know me very well," he laughed, "or you wouldn't call me sweet." 

"It doesn't matter," she stammered, "I like you." 

"Well, then, may I see you tomorrow?" 

"Yes, I'll come by the cafe in the afternoon, but right now, I think that 
I'd like to go back to my hotel and get some sleep. It's been a long and 
tiring day." She bent over him and kissed his cheek tenderly. She hadn't 
noticed how very young he was or how very serious his eyes were. 

"I'll get you a taxi," he volunteered. "Would you like me to come with you?" 

"No ... no, really, I think that I'd like to be alone now, you understand?" 

He was disappointed, but nodded silently and quickly threw on his trousers 
and walked her to the door of the hotel and hailed a cab. 

"You shouldn't be in these parts of Paris by yourself," the driver told her, 
"It isn't safe for young ladies, but you can never tell the tourists 
anything! " 

She resented his remark, but didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. 
She gave him the address of her hotel and remained silent for the rest of 
the trip. 

"You looking for some action?" he continued, glancing to see her reaction in 
the mirror as he weaved carelessly in and out of the traffic. 

She gritted her teeth in anger wondering where he got his nerve to ask her 
such a question. She knew that she looked disheveled, but she hoped that she 
didn't look that much like a common whore just yet, even though she felt 
like one. 

"Just thought I'd ask, lady," he said sarcastically and then didn't speak 
for the rest of the ride until they reached her destination. 

She paid him quickly and ran up the stairs to the lobby of the hotel. 
Several people were sitting around reading, some carrying cameras and 
looking at the brochures of Paris and deciding where they should spend their 
evening. She hoped that no one would recognize her, but just then the desk 
clerk called, "Miss Rhodes, oh, Miss Rhodes!" 

"Damn it," she muttered and turned to go back to the desk. 

"The concierge has a message for you, and these flowers were delivered for 
you while you were out." 

She looked at the extravagant arrangement, fumbled with the card, wondering 
who in the world knew that she was back in Paris. 

The card was merely signed, "An avid fan and admirer. Enjoy your stay." 

"Who sent these?" she asked the concierge. 

"A man dropped them off about two hours ago." 

"I know that, but what did he look like, who was he?" she demanded rather 
impatiently. 

"He didn't leave his name, but he said that he would call you later. He was 
about fifty,. an American, well-dressed and soft spoken." 

That description fit just about every middleaged man in the whole country, 
but her curiosity was heightened when he told her that the man mentioned 
that he had known her briefly in the States, in Hollywood. 

Her mind quickly went over a random list of men she knew that may be in 
Paris, or who would know that she was there. She hoped that it wasn't a 
friend of her husband's, because they were the last people in the world she 
wanted to see. She wondered if her husband was still in Paris, or perhaps he 
had returned home and told everyone that she was in Paris and wouldn't be 
coming back, at least not to Hollywood. He would do something like that to 
her, anything to-annoy her or hurt her. She hoped that the anonymous man 
would call, but yet it was with apprehension, a certain dread that it would 
just lead to more aggravation for her. 

"Don't let anyone up to my room without calling me first," she told the desk 
clerk, "I want to get some sleep and don't wish to be disturbed." 

He nodded and made a note by the telephone for the operator, but Jennifer 
knew as well as anyone that if the man tipped generously enough they would 
not pay any attention to her wishes, or they would conveniently lose her 
request. They would be apologetic, but it wouldn't do her any good. 

The concierge followed her to her room carrying the huge bouquet, grinning 
secretively as he walked in back of her. He already knew who the man was, 
but he had been sworn to secrecy when he was paid a generous number of 
francs. He watched her hips sway slightly, suggestively as she walked down 
the hall to her room, wishing that he were the man who had sent the flowers 
for then maybe he, too, would be able to see what was beneath her 
tight-fitting clothing. He sucked in his breath, admiring her beauty and 
form, her walk, everything about her. He wondered what a lovely young and 
famous woman was doing in Paris by herself, and he sensed that she must have 
some sort of trouble or she certainly wouldn't be travelling alone, at 
least, if she were French, she certainly would not be! 

He placed the flowers on the bureau for her, closed the drapes to shut out 
the street lights and turned down her bed. 

"If you need anything else, just ring," he told her. 

"All I need is some peace and quiet," she said sourly, staring at the 
flowers and wondering. 

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but the noise from the street, the 
constant honking of the horns kept her awake and tears of frustration and 
fear streamed down her cheeks. She had never felt so alone, so bewildered 
and she wondered what she would do, where she would go after .Paris and what 
she would do for money. She mentally checked her finances and realized that 
it wouldn't be too much longer, after the hotel bill, before she would have 
to get some more money. She wondered if the studio would send her any, but 
she even hesitated to wire them because of her husband. He would enjoy the 
fact that she was in Europe and penniless, begging him to release some money 
for her. She decided that the studio would be the last place she would turn 
for help. She had managed before and she was sure she could manage again, 
but when she remembered what she had had to do to get to the top in 
Hollywood, to gain the security that she thought she would never lose, she 
shuddered. She couldn't go through that again, sleeping around, fawning over 
fat, bald men just to get a part of a few dollars. The years in Hollywood 
had matured her beyond her very young years and it was difficult for her to 
remember herself as ever being young and innocent. Innocent, the word was no 
longer even in her vocabulary! 

She was physically exhausted, her body sore and aching from her lovemaking 
with the waiter she had picked. up and every time she turned in the bed, it 
only reminded her that she had used her body to find release from her 
worries and emotional frustrations and it made her feel cheated and dirty. 

She got up and opened a small bottle of tranquilizers that was on her 
dresser and greedily gulped down two, then fell back on the bed to let sleep 
give her some reprieve from her mental torture. Guilt feelings tormented her 
mind as she . tossed and turned. She imagined Edmond, her chauffeur, sitting 
in some dingy, local pub telling all his friends and anyone else who would 
listen that he had made love to the great, beautiful Jennifer Rhodes on the 
way to Paris, in the back of the car and in the woods. She shuddered and 
hoped that she would never have to see him again and made a mental note to 
never call that particular service again. 

Her body twitched and jerked spasmodically as the tranquilizers began to 
take affect and relax her. She didn't realize that she was so tense, so 
nervous. Finally she felt herself slipping into a much needed sleep, but her 
mind was still full of dreams and ideas, warnings and threats so even though 
her body was relaxed, her conscience was still very much awake and 
bothersome. 

She had been sleeping for several hours when she was rudely awakened by a 
persistent knock on her door. 

"Go away," she muttered sleepily. "I told you I didn't want to be 
disturbed." 

She waited, the knocking -stopped for a moment, then began again, louder and 
longer. 

"Damn," she hissed, and got up, throwing a transparent pegnoir casually 
around her and stumbled drowsily to the door. 

"Who * is it?" she demanded angrily. "I'm sleeping." 

"Got an important message for you," a weak voice answered. 

"Well, slip it under the door." she told him angrily. 

"It demands a reply," he told her, his voice impatient. 

"Just a minute," she stuttered, her voice still thick and sleepy. 

The young man shuffled impatiently outside the door, but smiling to himself. 
If he delivered the message it was worth a big tip, the older American man 
had promised him. 

She drew her thin robe tighter around her and hesitantly opened the door 
slightly so that she could take the piece of paper from the boy. 

"Wait outside," she told him and walked back to the bed. She opened the note 
carelessly and read the message. It was from the man who had sent the 
flowers! 

It was written very formally and asked her if she would like to join him for 
a late supper arid some brandy, mentioning a small, but expensive restaurant 
not far from the hotel. 

"The gentleman is waiting in the lobby for your reply," the boy insisted, 
already counting his tip. 

The note was signed simply, "M. Duncan." 

"Duncan ... Duncan ..." she said to herself, trying to place the name. She 
had known a Duncan once, a casting agent who had turned her down when she 
had first started in the film industry. Was it possible that he was in 
Paris? He did cast some foreign films and maybe that was why he was here. 
Her heart began to pound. Maybe he could use her in one of his films and 
that would solve her financial problem. 

She scribbled a hasty reply to his note and told the bellboy to tell the 
gentleman that she would be down shortly and he should wait in the bar. 

She handed him the note through the slit in the door and tried to shake the 
sleep from her head, her system still dulled by the tranquilizers she had 
taken. She stripped quickly and stepped into a cold shower, letting the 
stinging needles of chilling water refresh her body. 

She brushed her long, thick hair until it shown and tied it simply with a 
velvet ribbon and applied her make-up artfully, accentuating her huge, 
luminous eyes. She dressed quickly in a simple, but seductive dress, cut 
just low enough to give a hint of her deep, full cleavage and smoothed the 
tight-fitting skirt over her well formed and trim thighs. She admired her 
reflection in the full length mirror and satisfied with the way she looked, 
she walked shakily to the elevator. Her hopes were heightened for the first 
time since she had left Nice, yet she didn't want to expect too much, she 
didn't dare expect too much. 

Her breasts jiggled slightly as she walked across the lobby toward the bar 
and her hips swayed sensuously, but she was unaware of the many pairs of 
eyes that followed her and watched her lustfully. The nipples of her breasts 
hurt as they chafed against the lace of her minimal brassiere and it 
stimulated them into involuntary erectness. She held her head high, feeling 
proud, almost arrogant, as she scanned the bar and the tables for a familiar 
face. She wasn't sure that she would even recognize the mysterious Mr. 
Duncan, but she stood in the doorway for just a moment before an elegantly 
dressed, perfectly groomed older man took her arm and said, "Good evening, 
Jennifer, it's been a long time." 

He was smiling at her and she stared at him for just a minute before she 
returned his smile and followed him to the bar. 

"I had heard you were in Paris a few weeks ago, but I couldn't find you, 
then I discovered that you had gone to Nice.. It was a pleasant surprise 
when I saw you arrive here at the hotel again." 

She nodded pleasantly, studying his face, trying to place it and wondering 
if he were the same Mr. Duncan she had met a few years ago. 

"Don't look so puzzled, my dear," he said, patting her hand affectionately. 

"Thank you for the lovely flowers," she said. "It certainly was a pleasant 
and unexpected surprise." 

"They must appear dowdy next to your beauty," he said charmingly. 

He was soft-spoken and friendly, still she couldn't positively place him, 
but she had known so many men back in Hollywood. 

"You're trying to remember whether or not you know me, aren't you?" he 
chuckled. "I didn't really expect you to, it's been such a long time." 

"Quite frankly, yes ... I am. Where did I meet you?" 

"I first met you when you were about twelve. I was working with your father 
on a picture, then again when you first came to Hollywood, scared and 
nervous." 

"You were one of the agents who turned me down, weren't you?" 

"Unforgivably, yes, my dear," he smiled. "The error was all mine, I must 
admit. I thought that you were just going to try to ride in on your father's 
name, make a few two-bit films, then fade out of the picture." 

"I'm not so sure that's not what is happening," she smiled ruefully. 

"Nonsense!" he answered her. "I heard that you and your husband had had your 
differences, but he's not big enough to keep you away from Hollywood 
forever. Don't let him scare you." 

"That's easy to say, but from what I understand, he's trying his best to 
black ball me in the whole industry." 

"Yes, he's trying, but there are men, like myself, who have no love for your 
husband and would hire you just to spite him ... even if you weren't 
talented, which you are," he added. 

"Thank you for the kind words, I need them." she smiled drily. 

"They're not kindness, just the truth. I know that it's easy to get 
discouraged in this business, but we'll remedy that." 

"I've got to do something," she hinted. 

"Well, let's have a quick drink here and then I intend to wine and dine you 
in style tonight, then we can talk about it further." 

He seemed so sincere, so genuinely interested in her that she couldn't help 
but feel safe and secure in his company, and she smiled warmly at him. 

"I think that I'll just have some vermouth," she told him. 

"Make that two," he told the bartender, then stared at her once again. 

"You're more beautiful than ever, I think Europe agrees with you." 

"I haven't seen much of Europe, just Paris and Nice so far," she said 
meekly. "I'm not what you'd call well-travelled." 

"That's all right," he added, "That gives me the opportunity to show you 
some new places, if that's what you'd like." 

She wondered what he was hinting at, he hadn't mentioned working on a film 
yet, but he said that he would talk about that at dinner. 

They finished their drinks and he helped her with her jacket and escorted 
her, through the lobby, envious eyes following them. The bellboy and 
concierge exchanged meaningful glances and smiled at each other. 

"It's not far, shall we walk?" he asked her. 

"Yes, the feesh air will do me good. I was asleep when I got your note and 
I'm afraid that I'm not fully awake yet." 

"Excellent," he grinned, taking her arm and walking proudly alongside her, 
feeling as though he were the luckiest man in the world. 

"Mr. Duncan," she asked hesitantly, "Did you really remember me, or did you 
just see my Picture and decide that you wanted to see me?" 

"My name is Mel," he said, "and yes, I really did remember you. I know that 
you met a lot of new people when you first came to Hollywood and I didn't 
really expect you to remember an old man like myself, but I'm very flattered 
that you did decide to let me buy you. dinner." 

"You're very kind," she said, "and it's nice to have someone to talk to who 
knows my long, sad story." she laughed. 

"Well, we'll change that long, sad story into a happy one, you just wait and 
see. You're much too beautiful to be depressed, you should always smile!" 

His manner was so smooth, almost practiced, but his words of reassurance 
made her feel confident again, and her hand tightened on his arm. 

"The restaurant is just down the block," he told her as they crossed the 
street. 

"Paris really is a romantic city, isn't it?" she asked incredulously, as she 
spotted a young couple kissing beneath a street light. 

"It certainly does have a certain kind of magic, a lot of it hidden in the 
ruins, the women of the streets and the sidewalk booths, but it's there all 
right." 

The maitre d' greeted him by name when they went into the restaurant arid 
showed him to a secluded table in the back of the room. "I've saved this 
table just for you, monsieur," he grinned, "and your very lovely lady." 

"Thank you, Paul," he said, tipping him generously and obviously. 

"I hope you like this place, it's one of my favorites in all of Paris." 

"It's charming," she commented, noting the decor of Lautrec and Matisse 
paintings that decorated the spacious walls. 

"I've taken the liberty of ordering; in advance, the specialty of the 
house," he said grinning sheepishly. 

"You were pretty confident that I'd come," she laughed, "weren't you?" 

"No, not really, but I believe in thinking positively and, honestly, I was 
hoping that you would join posi tively and 1 wanted this to be a very 
special treat for both of us." 

"You're delightful," she said, letting her fingers brush against his strong 
hands. "I like a man who makes decisions." 

The waiter brought a large bottle of wine to the table and asked if he 
should open it. 

"Would you like some wine now'?" he asked her. 

"Wonderful," she said. "I'd love some." 

The sommelier artfully opened the bottle and poured some out for Mel to 
taste. 

"Perfect," he smiled, and the waiter filled their glasses. 

She was beginning to awaken fully, the pills she had taken slowly wearing 
off, and she sipped her wine, tasting the fullness of the body, and let it 
Nvarin her throat. She felt relaxed and happy, and for the first time she 
wasn't worried about what ryas going to happen to her next. 

"You are absolutely the most beautiful woman in the world," he toasted her. 
"I feel like a virile young man when I sit next to you." 

She couldn't help but smile at him, his eyes intent on her, admiring her, 
almost revering her. "You still haven't answered my question," she asked 
shyly. "Why the sudden interest in nee after you turned me down in 
Hollywood'?'' 

He looked at her seriously, his eyes engulfing every feature of her 
beautiful face and said, "Well, I'm here to scout for new sites for 
locations, for my foreign films," he said simply. "It isn't often that I 
find such a lovely and talented girl already here, and I thought that I 
might convince you to appear in one of our more art. films." 

"What do you mean by arty," she asked hesitantly, knowing(, full well what 
he was referring to. 

"As you know," he continued, "the American market is being flooded with the 
films from Sweden and Italy, and quite frankly, we feel we have to join them 
rather than fight them." 

"I haven't seen many of them, but the ones I have don't seem to have much of 
a plot as far as I'm concerned." 

"Quite true," he went on, "But, unfortunately, that is the type of film that 
is drawing the people to the box offices and that's what makes the money.' 

"When would you begin to film this new movie," she asked hopefully. 

"It won't be right away, I have to make some field trips around Europe and 
find the perfect spot to film, but if you would like, you could join me." 

She hesitated, an old fear creeping back into her mind, and said nothing 
right away. 

"I know that you are having troubles with your studio and I could put you on 
salary, sort of as an assistant to me if that would help convince you that I 
am serious." 

"I didn't know that it was that obvious that I needed money." 

"Hollywood is a tight community, as you know, and the word gets around, 
especially since your husband has made it no secret that he has ordered the 
studio to hold all of your residuals." 

"I didn't know that for sure, but it doesn't surprise me. I'd have to go 
back to the States to fight it, I suppose." 

"Yes, you would, and even then you may not win, so what do you say?" 

"It's a very tempting offer, Mr. Duncan, can I think about it for awhile?" 

"Sure, but I have to leave Paris in a day or two, so I'd have to know by 
then." 

She already knew that she couldn't refuse his offer, but it made her feel 
better to hesitate and not appear overly anxious. 

"Let's not say anymore about it tonight, just enjoy your dinner and we can 
talk more about it in the morning." 

He had done miracles for her sinking ego, and she silently prayed and hoped 
that this would not lead to another disappointment. 

The waiter served their dinner of roast duck L'orange, sauteed mushrooms and 
a flaming pudding, which she ate greedily, realizing that this was the first 
full meal she had had since she ar rived in Paris. 

He smiled as he watched her sample her food, knowing that he had won her 
over and there was no question that she would join.him. He remembered the 
pictures he had seen of her when she had first started in the movie 
industry, the nudes that the magazines had published, the calendars and 
centerfolds she had adorned with her unbelievable body, and he couldn't wait 
for the opportunity to sample her perfect, voluptuous body himself. He 
stared at her breasts as she breathed and swallowed more of her wine, 
watching them rise and fall temptingly, straining against the neckline of 
her dress. 

She glanced at him from time to time and smiled gratefully, still puzzled 
about his knowing so much about her, her father and her husband, then put it 
out of her mind. Her history had never been a deeply kept secret, her press 
agents had taken care of that in the beginning. 

"It's good to see a girl enjoy her food," he laughed. "Most women just pick 
around to make it look good, afraid that they'll gain that extra pound or 
two." 

"I didn't realize that I was so hungry," she grinned at him. "Sometimes I 
just forget to eat." 

"Well, we can't let that happen again." 

The wine was relaxing her and she felt warm and good, contented and happy. 
She knew it would be like starting all over again, but at least he had 
offered her a job, a job she desperately needed, not just financially, but 
for her ego and self-respect. 

He ordered two large snifters of brandy when they had finished, and she held 
it snugly in her hands warming the smooth, amber colored liquor before 
taking her first sip. 

"The perfect finish to a delicious meal," she said. "It has all been so 
enjoyable, thank you." 

"Don't thank me and spoil it, it was my pleasure ... believe me, all mine." 

"There's a nightclub not too far from here if you'd care to have another 
brandy there," he added. "You've had your nap and I'm not at all tired, 
could I interest you?" 

"I have nothing to get up for, so why not," she answered cheerfully, as the 
brandy warmed her whole body. 

He paid the check and they walked out into the damp, cool night air. The 
lights on the Arc d"Triumph were ablaze coloring the city and she breathed 
deeply taking in the scents and musty odors of Paris. Music drifted from 
several doorways, the voices of Trenet and Patachou lamenting lost loves and 
broken hearts, and she suddenly felt as though she were a part of this 
beautiful, exciting city. 

She sighed softly as she took his arm and followed him further down the 
street to the secluded nightclub. The room was dimly lit, just a single 
bluish light illuminating the singer who was seated at a piano playing 
French love songs and a few Frank Sinatra tunes with an incredibly bad 
American accent, but it was charming. 

"Brandy," he told the waiter who winked at them when they sat down. 

He took her hand gently and squeezed her fingertips, raising them to his 
lips and kissing them. 

"You make me very happy, my dear," be told her. "So very happy." 

She hoped that he hadn't noticed her shiver as he kissed her hand, and she 
wondered if this evening would turn out as so many others had, with a fight 
at the front door. Ile seemed so sincere and kind, and he certainly was 
generous and had gone out of his way to impress her, but she wanted to keep 
their relationship on a strictly professional basis. 

She let her hand relax in her lap, hoping that he would release his grip on 
her fingers, but he held on firmly, squeezing her hand from time to time. 

She finished her brandy quickly and before she could protest he had ordered 
two more. She knew that she shouldn't drink anymore or her defenses would be 
down and the liquor would gain control of her mind and body, but she was 
afraid that she would offend him if she refused and she couldn't lose her 
job offer before she had even given it a chance. 

"I should be getting back to the hotel shortly," she said hesitantly. "I 
don't want to have to do my thinking with a hangover!" She laughed lightly, 
patting his hand that was on top of hers. 

"Certainly, my dear," he agreed amiably. "We'll go as soon as we finish our 
brandies. This is my favorite part of the evening, the relaxed feeling that 
a good dinner and the brandy ,give me." 

She tried to finish her brandy gracefully and not gulp it, but she wanted 
the security of her room and a good night's sleep. So much had happened to 
her in the past few weeks, even the past two days, that she felt she had to 
orient herself and completely unwind so that she could concentrate on her 
new venture. 

They walked slowly back to her hotel and she swayed slightly against his 
slightly rotund, yet solid body. She was dizzy from the wine and brandy, but 
she didn't want to let him know. He smiled to himself, and tightened his 
grip on her arm. She turned to him when they reached the lobby of the hotel 
and thanked him for the enjoyable evening. She knew that it sounded 
trite,'but instead of suggesting that he come up for a nightcap, he leaned 
forward and kissed her cheek tenderly and smiled. 

"I'll call you in the morning," he told her. "Get a good night's sleep, 
there are some people I want you to meet as they'll be working on the film 
with us." 

"That will be fine," she told him. "I'll be up early." 

She watched him as he walked out of the hotel, then she took the elevator to 
her room and smiled to herself confidently, knowing that she wouldn't have 
to worry any longer. 

Mel Duncan, too, smiled secretively to himself, anticipating the exact 
moment when he would have her all to himself, when he would sample that 
luscious body and have her completely in his power. He didn't want to scare 
her off, he knew that his time would come and he didn't want to rush it, he 
wanted to savor each delicious moment and he could feel an erection begin to 
come alive inside his trousers just thinking about what he would do to her, 
what he would make her do to him. He clenched his fists, fighting back his 
lewd and sadistic thoughts as he walked quickly to the corner before hailing 
a cab back to his hotel. 

He lay back on his bed and picked up the phone. 

"Regis," he said, "it's all set. I'm picking her up in the morning, thanks 
for the tip. I'll take good care of you." 

"She's a hot one all right, Mel. I'll have the boat at the dock and ready to 
go about noon. I've arranged to get a few more girls to add to the fun so it 
will look legitimate. Did you get in touch with the other men and with Sam?" 

"Christ, Sam is so darn anxious that I hope he can stand it until 
tomorrow,'' he laughed. "This is going to be the best party of all!" 

He hung up the phone and closed his eyes, wondering what she would do when 
she discovered what they had in store for her. Yes, indeed, he was going to 
enjoy every last minute of this delightful little caper. 

 Chapter 5 

Jennifer slept peacefully for the first time in a long time even though she 
was excited about the prospect of going back to work. She would show her 
husband that she could get along without him and in spite of him! 

The sun was shining brightly, illuminating her whole room and making her 
feel warm and happy inside. Things were going to work out, she had the 
feeling and it was a welcome relief. 

Her phone rang exactly at eleven o'clock and Mel told her that he would pick 
her up in an hour and that a group from the film company was going to take a 
cruise on a chartered yacht, just for a friendly get-together, to get 
everyone acquainted. 

She dressed in a simple, light, loose-fitting skirt that clung suggestively 
to her thighs as she walked, outlining the long, thin firmness of her legs. 
Her blouse did little to hide the ripe fullness of her voluptuous breasts. 
She slipped on some thin-strapped sandals on her small feet, dispensing with 
stockings. She hadn't felt so good in a long time and she smiled to herself 
as she admired herself in the mirror. It would be good to get back to work, 
to have money coming in once, again. Mel Duncan had restored her faith in 
herself and she knew that her father would be proud of her if she could 
survive regardless of what had been done to crucify her in Hollywood. Her 
father had made many films in Europe so she was certain that he would 
approve. Her heart was beating rapidly when the desk called up and told her 
that Mr. Duncan was waiting for her in the lobby. She powdered her nose for 
the last time and waited anxiously for the elevator to stop at her floor. 

Mel greeted her smiling, dressed in a typical yachting outfit' that looked 
rather out of place in the middle of Paris, his stomach a little too big for 
his close=fitting shirt, and his legs a little too skinny for the walking 
shorts he was wearing, He took her hand warmly and they walked out to the 
car that was waiting to take them to the boat. 

"It's going to be a rather mixed group," he warned her, "but I'm sure that 
you'll get along with everyone just fine. I've already told them that you 
are to be our new star, so they should handle you with kid gloves." He 
grinned greedily and possessively at her as his eyes took in every inch of 
her exposed flesh, her smooth, tapered legs and he rubbed his hands 
together, then on his shorts to get rid of the perspiration. that was 
beading on his palms. 

They drove for several miles before the driver took a back, rustic road that 
led to the southern part,of France. The countryside was beautiful and the 
sun beat down on the car. She raised her skirt slightly to keep it from 
sticking to her legs. 

"How much further must we go," she asked hesitantly. "It seems as though 
we've been driving for hours." 

"We have to meet the other people at a country retreat, then we're flying by 
private plane to the Swiss border." 

She looked at him incredulously and said, "I didn't know that it would be so 
involved," and she began to get nervous. 

"We are going to check out some spots for filming," he told her, "but don't 
worry, you'll have everything you'll need on the yacht, it's fully 
equipped." 

"You should have warned me," she told him. "I didn't know. How long will we 
be gone?" 

"Don't worry so much, you're in good hands, and you didn't have any other 
plans, did you?" 

"No ... no ..." she stammered. "But just the same, I wish you would have 
told me." 

"It was rather spur of the moment, after all. I wasn't sure you'd be 
agreeable, and I didn't want to take any chances." 

She didn't like the tone of his voice or his implication; but there was 
nothing she could do about it now, she was in the car and they were on their 
way. 

"You said that you hadn't been outside of Paris or Nice, so this will give 
you an opportunity to see another part of the great continent. The lakes are 
really very beautiful and if you need anything we can buy it when we get 
there." 

She was trembling and nervously lit a cigarette, then snuffed it out in the 
ash tray. Her throat felt raw and dry and her stomach was quivering with a 
sudden, unexplainable foreboding. 

"Dear Lord, not again," she said silently to herself. "Please let it be all 
right this time." 

He had made no advances toward her while they were riding and she kept 
trying to think what this part would mean to her, her independence once 
again, but something in the back of her mind kept warning her, making her 
want to demand that he stop the car and let her out. She had thought that 
she was so sophisticated, yet she knew that this time she had tackled 
something that was too big for her and she was frightened. She knotted her 
hands in her lap and watched the older man out of the corner of her eye. He 
was grinning and smoking a foul-smelling cigar, content and satisfied at his 
coup. He knew that he had made her uneasy and it delighted him that she was 
afraid; it would make it all the better! 

"Relax, my dear," he reassured her, still grinning lasciviously. "It won't 
be much longer." 

She wasn't sure what he meant, but she didn't like the implication or his 
tone. He seemed to have become transformed from last night into a hard, 
cruel roan, the type that she had had to succumb to when she first started 
in the movie industry and she shuddered. 

She felt helpless, lost and confused and her mind could not stay on a train 
of thought. She stifled her desire to scream at the fat man sitting next to 
her and demand that he take her back to her hotel. She silently prayed that 
everything would be all right, that her fears were just in her imagination, 
but her sixth sense warned her that she had gotten herself into a dangerous 
situation and that it was too late to do anything but wait and see what 
would happen. 

They drove for several more miles down the narrow dirt road before the 
driver turned off into a long, tree-lined driveway and pulled up in front of 
a large, well-kept house. 

"Here's where we meet the others," he told her, waiting for the driver to 
open the doors for them. 

She looked around and didn't see any other cars or any sign that anybody 
lived there. 

"They should be right behind us, if my timing is right," he tried to assure 
her. "Come on in and we'll have a drink while we're waiting." 

She followed him reluctantly into the large house while the driver stayed 
behind, grinning at her and chuckling. He used his own key to open the door 
and showed her into a large living room and went to the bar to mix a drink. 

"Is a tall pernod all right?" he asked, pouring the clear liquid into a tall 
glass without waiting for her reply. 

"Yes ... yes ... fine," she told him, never feeling like she needed a drink 
so badly as just then. 

She took one long gulp of the cool liquid, hoping that it would relax her, 
and shifted nervously in the chair. He sat on the other side of the room I 
and stared at her blatantly. 

"I wish you wouldn't look at me like that," she stammered, trying to pull 
her skirt down over her bare knees. "It ... it makes me self-co"scious." 

"I'm just admiring your beauty," he said glibly. "You know that you are very 
lovely, exquisite!" 

She bowed her head and took another long gulp of her drink, tasting the 
licorice flavor of the liquor. It reminded her of the candy store on the 
corner where she went as a child and secretly she wished that she could turn 
back the hands of time and be there once again, a nickel clutched tightly in 
her hand ready to spend it on her favorite candy, instead of in this strange 
house, in a strange country with a drink in her hands. 

She finished her first drink and he rose to make her another when she heard 
another car pull up in the driveway. She could hear the gay laughter of 
other women and men as they walked up the steps to the front door. 

"Thank heaven," she breathed, as she took the second drink from Duncan. 

She turned to face the newcomers as she sipped on her drink, but her mouth 
flew open in shock and surprise as she was face to face with Regis, the 
waiter! 

"Hello Jennifer," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in 
the world to find her here. 

"I see you two know each other," Mel chuckled maliciously. "Help yourselves 
to the drinks while we wait for the skipper to arrive." 

"W-w-what are you doing here?" she asked, her words choked and stammered. 

"Just came along for the ride," he answered her. "I love boat trips." 

She shook and realized that this had been some pre-arranged scheme between 
him and Mel and she wondered how much Mel had paid him for the information 
on her. She wondered if he really were in Europe to film a new movie or 
whether it was just a plan to use her. Her legs nearly buckled underneath 
her as she tried to stand and run to the door. 

"Where're you going, sweetie?" one of the other women laughed at her. "The 
party's just starting!" 

"Let me out of here," she screamed and put her hand on the door to the 
outside. Her legs were shaking and a knot of fear was like a lead weight in 
her stomach, but she ran into a wall, a human wall that was blocking her 
path. 

"She doesn't seem happy to be here," the woman laughed again, as the driver 
of the car grabbed her by the arm and escorted her back into the living 
room. 

"Let me go," she cried as she struggled against his powerful grip on her. 

"Jennifer," Mel chided. "Where do you think you're going?" 

"You've tricked me," she stuttered, tears of fear and frustration running 
down her cheeks. 

"Settle down, no one's tricked you; we're just going to have a little party, 
nothing more than that." 

She looked around the room for a friendly face, but they were just all 
staring at her. 

"What's the matter with you?" Regis asked. "Nothing so terrible is going on; 
just relax, baby." 

"I've got to get back to Paris," she cried, still clutching her drink. 

"We'll all be going back to Paris in a day or so, meanwhile enjoy the 
excellent company you have here. The trip will do you good, nothing like 
fresh air and the water to rejuvenate a dampened spirit." 

She knew that it was a conspiracy against her, yet she felt a little foolish 
protesting so violently and running off like a childish school girl. 

"Think of your career," Mel added. "This could make you famous in Europe, 
just as you were famous in Hollywood." 

She looked at the icy stares of the others and she felt ashamed, 
embarrassed, as she sank dejectedly into her chair. 

"I don't believe it," she mumbled to herself. "I don't believe this is 
happening to me." She felt cornered, trapped, with no where to go, no one to 
turn to. 

"Everyone finish your drinks," Mel told them. "We're getting ready to shove 
off again." 

"Sam said that he'd meet us at the plane," Regis told Mel, gulping down a 
large glass of burgundy. 

The group moved toward the front door and split up into the cars again, 
Jennifer riding between Mel and Regis, the other girls in the other car with 
three other men who looked like typical Hollywood thugs. 

They rode in silence to a deserted air strip 'a few miles away from the 
house where a plane was waiting to take them across the Swiss border. 

"This is much better than commercial travel," Mel grinned at Regis, "much 
more private!" 

She looked at Regis, then back at Mel, both men had lecherous grins frozen 
on their faces. Regis' eyes were no longer serious and kind, but hard and 
calculating. 

"You've arranged everything just perfectly, Regis," Mel told him. "I must 
repay the favor one of these days." 

"The pleasure is all mine," he laughed. "This is going to be a grand 
excursion." 

The men waited while the women took their places in the plane, then Mel 
helped Jennifer aboard. A bar was already set up and waiting for them and he 
mixed a few drinks and handed them to the passengers. Sam, a huge Negro, 
larger than any she had seen, even on the Hollywood sets, sat quietly in the 
corner of the plane watching what was going on. 

"Sam, here, is the finest helmsman in the business," Regis told Mel. "Quite 
a colorful person. He doesn't say much, but he doesn't miss a trick!" 

A few of the other women chuckled and made lewd remarks about his size, but 
he didn't say a word, hs eyes were fastened on the beautiful, luscious, 
inviting Jennifer. 

She felt as though she were being stripped mentally in front of him and she 
squirmed in her seat, mechanically sipping on the drink. that was handed to 
her. 

"These drinks should loosen everyone up," Mel kidded. "My special brand of 
liquor I save especially for these little trips." 

The alcohol tasted just like pernod and she downed it greedily, hoping that 
it would dull her senses and make the terrible, frightening situation go 
away. 

Her body was running hot and cold, her mind confused and scared with a 
premonition that this would be different from anything she had ever faced 
before. The other women were a few years older than she and looked hard and 
calloused and not at all worried about what lay ahead. The plane's engines 
roared and in a few minutes they were off French soil and soaring at a few 
thousand feet above the trees and farms below. They were in the air for 
about a half an hour when one of the other women sat down next to big Sam 
and began to play teasingly with his hard, huge muscular leg. 

"I've always dreamed of something like this," she murmured, but Sam did not 
flinch. 

"Don't be so anxious, Monique," Mel roared. "There's plenty enough for 
everyone!" 

Jennifer wondered if the giant Negro spoke or whether he was completely 
mute. His eyes stayed glued to her and he licked his lips hungrily. 

"Does he talk?" Monique asked, reading Jennifer's mind. 

"Only when spoken to," Regis answered laughingly. 

"He sure is a big brute, straight from the jungle, isn't he?" she said, 
rimming her thick fingers further up his leg, feeling the hardened and 
tensed muscles beneath his trousers. 

Mel busied himself replenishing everyone's drinks and Jennifer could feel 
the alcohol begin to numb her brain and tingle the skin of her limbs and she 
relaxed down further iii her seat, not realizing that it afforded the men a 
clear view of her stocking-less thighs. 

Met inched down next to her, placing a meaty hand on her bare knee and 
patted and stroked it lovingly, possessively. 

"That's it, baby," he crooned. "Unwind." 

She was barely conscious of his hand on her leg as she finished her drink, 
feeling the somewhat hitter taste of the liquid trickle down her throat. 

"She's really that good between the sheets, Regin?" he asked kiddingly. 

"One of the best," he commented proudly. "Sorry I got first crack at her, 
but she was so damned anxious!" 

Jennifer heard the words and the lewd comments, but she tried to shut her 
eyes and ears to all that was going on around her. The Negro got up and 
paced up and down in the limited space the plane afforded, watching Mel as 
he played with the supple, white flesh of Jennifer's legs. 

"Black beauty," Monique muttered. "What a stallion!" 

You could see the outline of the Negro's penis through his tight-fitting 
silk trousers and it wasn't difficult to imagine what horrendous length it 
would rise to when he became excited. 

"Now that's a man," she hissed through her teeth, "and he needs a real 
woman!" 

"Take it easy," Regis laughed. "You'll get your turn, but we have other 
things in mind for him first." 

The Negro grinned for the first time, looking down at Mel and Jennifer, 
knowing full well what he meant. He had been told. 

fie knew that Jennifer was not a virgin, but he had never seen a white woman 
so beautiful, so virginial looking, especially in comparison to the others 
he had met and serviced. He was looking forward to having her more than 
anything he had ever had in his whole life. It wasn't often that he got the 
opportunity to work for such men as his life in Paris had been one of a stud 
service in a tiny club in the degenerate part of the city. He had been a 
spectacle, an odyssey, a thrill for the frustrated women who admired and 
craved his totally animalistic male charms. He strutted back and forth in 
front of her like a proud peacock, thrusting his hips forward with each step 
so that she couldn't help but notice his hugeness, his eagerness. 

Met's hand worked further up on her thigh, feeling the soft, procelain flesh 
on the inner part of her leg and she felt powerless to stop him. She shook 
her head in an effort,to clear the cobwebs from her brain, but it was 
futile, she felt paralyzed. 

"What is this stuff, Mel," the other woman asked, speaking for the first 
time. "It sure has a nice kick to it!" 

"My special blend of absinthe," he laughed, "made from my private stock of 
the wormwood!" 

"Do you really think we need it," she laughed, pouring herself another large 
glass and mixing it with water. 

"Maybe you don't, but you're used to this sort of thing. I thought that it 
might entice our new, young friend into a friendlier way of thinking." 

Everyone laughed heartily and looked at Jennifci - who was in such a doped 
state that she couldn't even react to their lewd comments. 

"Don't spoil her for the fun, Mel," Regis wanted him. "=When she lets go, 
she's a real tiger, all woman and then some!" 

"What's wrong with me?" Monique asked. 

"You're old," he told her cruelly. "You take it whenever and wherever you 
can get it, but she's something special, something different, you'll see. 
You might enjoy her yourself," he added. 

"Now you're being mean," she answered "I can't help it if I like the 
softness of a woman's touch once in a while. Men can be such hard and thorny 
animals!" 

"You love it and you know it," he said matterof-factly. 

Sam reached down and touched Jennifer's knee, kneading the skin beneath his 
ebony fingers. 

"What a contrast," Regis commented. "They will certainly make a handsome 
couple for our filly!" 

It excited Mel to watch the Negro play lustfully with her leg, just waiting 
to be given the signal to go ahead. The huge man fell to his knees and 
peered beneath the loose folds of Jennifer's skirt, examining everything 
that wasn't covered by her thin, brief panties. 

"That's enough for now, Sam," he told him harshly. "It won't be much longer 
and we can all see what she has to offer!" 

Sam backed away like a wounded child, clutching his hand in the other as 
though he would be burned if he touched her again. 

The plane's engines began to drone and slowly the aircraft began to make its 
descent. 

"I guess we're here," Regis said. "Everybody get ready to land." 

The men and women fastened their seat belts and Mel held Jennifer's limp and 
drugged body securely in his grasp as the wheels of the plane were lowered. 
Her eyes fluttered slightly as if she were protesting her inevitable fate, 
but she was helpless to do anything else. When the plane touched down, the 
three thugs that were with the group were the first ones out of the plane 
and helped Monique and the other woman out. Mel supported Jennifer's body, 
cupping his hands just beneath her firm, young breasts and squeezed them 
playfully. 

"I've been wanting to sample some of that for a long time," he giggled 
nervously. 

They had landed in a small field just a few yards away from a huge, 
dark-looking lake. 

"I'm glad I wasn't watching while we came over the mountains," Monique 
commented. "I've always been scared to death of flying!" 

The slightly drunken group walked stealthily over the hard, rocky ground to 
an inlet where a huge, luxurious yacht was tied up. Mel and Regis were on 
either side of Jennifer supporting her body and half dragging her to the 
gang plank. The cool, crisp air felt good against her face and she began to 
move of her own volition even though she was still dizzy and drugged. 

"I feel funny," she giggled. "I feel as though I don't have any legs and I'm 
floating!" 

"That'sa baby," Mel urged. "Just follow papa!" 

A man came out to greet them and help them on board because there were no 
lights since they had flown over the border illegally. It wasn't as if they 
had anything to hide, it just seemed to save time acid energy to do things 
this way, and it added to the intrigue. No one would know that they were in 
the country and they could move about on the lake undisturbed. The pilot of 
the plane waited until all his passengers were on board the yacht before 
starting his engines once more and tak-ing off back across the border. 

Sam immediately went to the Fridge and began to navigate the yacht away from 
the land and into open water. Once they were far enough offshore he could 
let the boat drift as it would without danger of rocks and hidden hazards. 

The men and women went below and settled themselves comfortably in a large 
cabin and waited for Mel, Regis and Jennifer to come join them. 

"Let's get this party going," Monique said thickly, already beginning to 
shed the light, illfitting clothing she had on. "I want to make myself more 
comfortable." 

The thugs grinned at her as she began an awkward striptease, her clothing 
falling anywhere on the floor as she wriggled and twisted her full, but 
well-used body in front of then. 

Mel propped Jennifer up in one of the bunks and ordered Regis to break out 
the champagne for their maiden voyage. Jennifer's eyes were glazed and 
staring as she watched Monique strip down to her brassiere and panties, 
wriggling her nylon-covered buttocks in front of all the men. She leaned 
over in front of one of the burly men and he grabbed her ample breasts with 
both hands and squeezed them harshly until she began to pull back. 

"Don't tease," he laughed up at her. "Let's see what's there!" 

"More than you can handle, I'll bet," she challenged him, beginning to 
unbutton the top of his shirt and revealing his hairy, barrel-like chest. 

"Don't count on it, sweetie," he answered, helping her in her efforts and 
placing her hand on his hardening penis. 

"Take it easy," Mel laughed. "You'll get your turn, but I bet Jennifer is 
the most anxious so she could get hers first!" 

"Nnnooooo," she groaned, trying to turn her back to the group, but Mel's 
hands were prying at her body, feeling her heaving, full breasts and 
massaging them lustfully. Her skirt had ridden up over her thighs, revealing 
her silken pubic mound through her almost transparent appearing panties. 

"That's my girl," he urged her, turning her over on her back and stretching 
her legs out so that everyone could see her firm, well-formed legs and 
thighs. 

"Tell Sam to come down here as soon as he can." Mel ordered Regis "We're 
going to take some test shots of these two before we get into the actual 
filming." He put some film in a Polaroid camera and set the shutter so that 
it would be read. [[s soon as Sam could leave the bridge. 

Jennifer felt as though her clothing were strangling her and she felt hot 
and constricted. She could feel the cool lake breezes blowing through the 
cabin and she raised her hand weakly to push ,Mel away from her. His skinny, 
hairless legs were trembling;; as he pulled and ripped casually at the 
buttons of her blouse, hardly able to contain himself, anxious to see what 
her bared breasts would look like. He had seen so many pictures of her, but 
he could never quite believe that they would stand up like they did in the 
photographs, that thev would be so full and delicious. 

She quivered as she felt his moist hands against her flesh and she tried to 
cross her arms in front of leer breasts, protecting them from any further 
lustful advances, but Regis cane to Mel's aid and grabbed her wrists and 
held them tightly and firmly. 

Monique and the others stood around the bunk watching the degrading and 
lustful stripping of the helpless, half-drugged girl. 

"What a body," one thug breathed, clutching the bulging lump that was 
growing beneath his trousers. "I'd like some of that!" 

Mel turned and twisted Jennifer's drugged and almost lifeless body as though 
she were a rag (loll, knowing that shortly some of the drug would begin, to 
wear off and she would come back to her senses, - her mind would clear, but 
her body would beg and cry out for satisfaction. 

Regis lifted her slightly so that Mel could hull her blouse from her 
shoulders and unhook the fastening of her brassiere. 

"Don't ... stop ... don't," she groaned as her breasts felt the cool breeze 
against her naked flesh, tightening and stiffening her nipples. 

"God," the men breathed together. "Beautiful ... beautiful!" 

Everyone was so engrossed with the forced disrobing that no one noticed Sam 
walk into the cabin. He was stripped to the waist and his long, sinewy, 
powerful legs were covered in the skimpiest loin cloth he could have found. 
He bent over Mel and stared at the smooth, white flesh of her breasts, the 
pinkness of her erect nipples and drew in a sharp breath. Monique lacked 
away from the bunk and stared at Sam's back, watching the muscles glisten 
with a slight perspiration, then at his loosely hanging, uncovered genitals 
that showed as he bent. They looked heavy and threatening and it was all she 
could do to keep herself from reaching out and touching them. 

Mel turned and faced Sam. "In a minute she'll he all yours, we just have to 
get her ready!" 

Regis watched as Mel carefully tugged at the waist band of her skirt, 
pulling it away from her body and lustfully working his fingers inside the 
tight elastic of her panties, feeling her pubic mound and tickling just over 
the bud of her clitoris. She jerked involuntarily at his caress, feeling his 
prying fingers working greedily between her legs. 

"Noooooo," she moaned again. "Please ... nooooooo," but her voice was weak 
and thick. He inserted one fat finger between the lips of her vagina and 
wiggled it playfully. 

"She's tight as a drum," he groaned, feeling a tightness and hardening 
inside his own trousers, but he could have his turn later, he wanted to see 
if she could take the giant of a man in back of him. 

Slowly he moved her panties down toward her knees, feeling every inch of her 
smooth, white flesh as he worked them away from her ankles. She lay before 
them, naked and vulnerable, like a goddess, almost too beautiful to touch. 

Sam reached down and touched her silken, flawless skin, the blackness of his 
hand a startling contrast to her fairness, and his huge, growing erection 
was jerking at the front of his loin cloth. 

"He's too big, she'll never be able to take him," Monique groaned in envy. 

"She'll take him and love it," Mel answered. Jennifer looked up at the eyes 
that were staring down at her helplessness, then at Sam who was grinning 
lustfully at her. 

"No ... noooo," she groaned, her voice becoming a little stronger. 

"Yes, my sweet," Met told her. "Remember, it's for the sake of art. This may 
be the greatest triumph of your movie career!" 

Sam was shuffling his feet like a pawing bull preparing to mount his mate, 
but Mel had not finished with her vet, he couldn't take his hands away from 
her prostrate, defenseless body. 

She struggled, her head rolling from side to side, but Regis held her arms 
firmly above her head as Mel tweaked cruelly at the swollen and sensitive 
nipples of her breasts. They sprang erect at his touch and he bent over and 
covered them with his mouth, sucking like a newborn baby. Monique had 
grabbed the thigh and obvious erection of the henchman who was standing next 
to her and his hand wandered aimlessly over her slightly heavy body as they 
watched the lewd, titillating spectacle. She buckled her knees up toward her 
ravaged chest, but the other thug grabbed her ankles and stretched her 
cruelly against the hard, springless mattress of the bunk, forcing her knees 
wide apart so that her vagina was open for all to see. 

"She looks too tight, Met," he grunted, fingering her and prodding at the 
open wound between her legs. "He'll tear her apart!" 

Sam paced up and down the cabin, waiting for his turn, his opportunity to 
feel her helpless beneath him. Mel's hands crushed her soft buttocks as 
though they were made of butter and felt her glistening flesh between his 
fingers. 

"Let's move her onto the floor," Mel commanded. "Sam will never fit in the 
bed and I want to shoot this from all angles!" 

Hands reached down to lift her weak and trembling body onto the heavily 
carpeted floor of the cabin. 

"We'd better tie her," Regis suggested, releasing his grip on her wrists for 
a second, then changed his mind and told one of the other women to get the 
rope. 

They held her spread-eagled on the floor while Monique carefully tied a loop 
around each of her wrists and then attached them to rings in the side of the 
wall. 

Jennifer groaned and gasped, realizing through tier dulled brain what they 
had in store for her, but no matter how she struggled and begged, they did 
not relent. One of the thugs tickled and probed between her legs in an 
effort to lubricate her and she could feel a tingling sensation begin to 
build from deep within her belly. 

"Stop ... please ..." she cried, tears of humiliation and shame streaming 
down her cheeks. Sam had shed his loincloth as it was useless in hiding his 
mammoth erection and was now strutting up and down the room in his 
animalistic glory, grinning lasciviously as his huge, thick rod jerked up 
and down as he walked. 

"Look at that," Monique gasped. "He's built like a stud horse. I don't think 
that even I could take that thing rammed up into me!" 

"But I bet you'd like to try," Regis laughed at her. 

"Never mind," she retorted, trying to keep from staring at his monstrous 
black erection. 

When she was securely tied, both her wrists and ankles, Mel stood back and 
admired her piteously helpless state. Her eyes implored the group for mercy, 
but they were all too sadistically keyed up, waiting for the final degrading 
act that would put her for all time completely at their mercy. Her thighs 
were trembling in her bonds as she arched her back up from the floor and she 
tried hopelessly to free herself. 

Sam stood above her, his hands on his hips, watching his erection jerk and 
pulse against his smoothly muscled stomach, and he wet his lips in 
anticipation. 

"God, no," she moaned, her voice not more than a whisper. "Please ... no!" 

"I don't think she likes you, Sam," Mel laughed as he poised the camera to 
catch the look of horror that was evident on her face. Her mouth opened and 
closed in a fish-like manner, but nothing came out, she was too terrified. 

Sam reached down and crushed both her breasts in one hand, squeezing them as 
though they were ripe grapefruits, and he was grunting and growling making 
noises that were nearly inhuman. His eyes shone with greedy lust as he knelt 
beside her, running his hands over her fine features and down her body, not 
missing an inch of her flesh, yielding and aching. She closed her eyes in an 
effort to block out the image of the man that was torturing her, teasing 
her, making her body scream out in terror and helpless fright. 

She felt someone tickling the inner part of her thighs, working closer and 
closer toward her open and vulnerable orifice. Her head was beginning to 
clear as the first dulling affects of the absinthe began to wear off and she 
could feel a new and different sensation begin slowly throbbing inside her 
belly. It seemed to grow and grow until all other thoughts were driven from 
her tortured mind. She had never felt such an insatiable desire building 
deep within her as hands worked over her body, kneading the soft, resilient 
smoothness of her flesh. 

"The initial discomfort will make the rest worthwhile," Mel grinned down at 
her as he watched Sam work his way between her legs. She looked up dazedly, 
staring at the huge Negro who was bending over her, separating her legs even 
further apart until her bonds cut into her ankles. Her knees felt like 
rubber, as though they weren't attached to her body as he pried and pulled 
until they were nearly flat against the floor. 

Sam's mouth closed over her breasts and sucked viciously, pulling and 
tearing at her nipples until she thought that they would come off. She could 
feel a gnawing in the pit of her stomach, yet her mouth was so dry that she 
found it hard to catch her breath. She was barely conscious of flash bulbs 
going off around her as Sam manipulated and prodded at her body. She knew 
that she had had too much to drink, yet liquor had never affected her like 
this before, never stimulated her to such a degree. 

"It's absolutely obscene," Regis uttered, pair- ing tip with the other woman 
in the group and roughly squeezing her breasts and tearing her blouse oft 
her shoulders. 

"I can't believe that he won't kill her," she stammered as they watched and 
gloated over the young girl's plight. 

The touch of her warm flesh was like an electric shock to Sam as his body 
covered hers in delicious agony. She gasped for breath beneath his weight 
and he gripped her knees and moved down on her body, burying his face 
between the juncture of her legs. His long tongue flicked out like a snake's 
as he wet her open channel, concentrating on her hard, throbbing clitoris. 

"Ooooohhhhh," she groaned, feeling a shiver shake her whole body and she 
tried to wriggle away from his vice-like grip, but his huge face didn't 
budge away from her aching cunt. 

"I can't stand it," Monique gasped, rubbing her legs vigorously together as 
she watched. 

"Oooooohlihhh, noooooo," Jennifer gasped as his warm, wet mouth closed 
teasingly over her suddenly involuntarily twitching vagina and his tongue 
wiggled just inside her. Sam raised his head for an instant so that the 
others could see her, see her smallness, her wetness, her vulnerable 
opening. Her nails dug into the soft carpeting of the floor as she tried to 
raise her body, a flame of desire shuddering through her as her legs and 
hips quivered uncontrollably. 

"Perfect," Mel gloated, taking another picture of the helplessly pinioned 
girl. "Make her wait for it," he urged Sam. 

Sam's penis was shining like a glistening, well-oiled piston as it jerked 
anxiously against his belly. His hips were raised and ready to take her, but 
Mel wanted to take just one snore picture. Sam controlled his desire like a 
well-trained animal, waiting to be told when he could consummate the final 
act, when he could bury his huge maleness into her waiting and aching cunt. 
It was demanding an almost impossible strain on his nerves and his muscles 
rippled and twitched as he moved over her prostrate body with practiced 
skill. 

You could hear the heavy breathing in the room as the men and women played 
with each other and teased each other in their seemingly endless wait for 
Sam to take tier, tear her apart, ravage her, break her down. 

"Aaaaaggggggh," she groaned as Sam roughly inserted two huge fingers between 
her open legs. Her body was beginning to react to his violent and lustful 
caresses and she couldn't help herself. She trembled with fear at the size 
of the man who was caressing tier, yet, she couldn't hide a terrible 
excitement that was rampaging through her loins. She wanted to be satisfied, 
she wanted to be fucked, but she was afraid that he would split tier in 
half. The aphrodisiac was numbing all her senses except for a deep-seeded 
lust that now was beginning to control her and she cried out for help. 

"I can't take it," she screamed. "Please do something, you're killing me!" 

"Listen to her beg for the big brute," Regis interjected. "She can't wait to 
have his huge, thick prick inside her!" 

Her head was rocking back and forth on the floor like a madwoman's, and she 
wet her lips and bit harshly into her lower lip until she could taste her 
own blood. 

"What are you doing to me?" she begged. "What are you doing to me?" 

"Go on, Sam, give it to the little lady, go on!" Mel urged. 

Sam didn't need any more encouragement for the weight in his testicles was 
becoming almost too much for him to bear. He moved his knees solidly between 
her wide-splayed thighs and angled his huge, throbbing penis at her tiny, 
gently palpitating vagina. Her eyes opened and shut in the horror that he 
was about to inflict upon her and she gritted her teeth as she anticipated 
the inevitable pain he would cause. 

f-ler mouth was open, full and sensual, showing a row of even white teeth as 
his hands reached beneath her and pulled her buttocks up off the floor so 
that he could enter her. He waited just a moment, letting the glans of his 
huge penis rest between her vaginal lips before easing himself into her, 
cutting through the soft mat of blonde pubic hair and waiting flesh like 
butter. He could feel the tightness of her cuntal walls as he ground and 
thrust deeper into her and he looked down as he watched his huge black organ 
bury itself between her milky white thighs. 

"Aaaaaaagggggglihhh," she screamed, trying to catch her breath at the same 
time as he bored steadily into her, deeper and deeper. 

"She won't be able to take him," someone gasped as they watched the terrible 
rape of the helpless girl. 

"God, that must feel good," Monique uttered breathlessly. "I've never had a 
man quite like that!" 

Sam was oblivious to the comments around him, he was concentrating in 
burying himself as deeply inside her as possible. He could feel the warm 
dampness of her cunt clinging to the thick shaft of his penis as he pulled 
and pushed further and further into her. Her hands were opening and closing, 
grasping at the rug on the floor [[s she steeled herself against his cruel, 
harsh impalenient. Mel was on his knees next to them, taking one picture 
after the other as he slipped his organ greedily in and out of leer 
stretched and throbbing opening. Every few minutes he reached down and 
grasped the leaden bulge that was jerking between his legs and squeezed it, 
not caring who was watching. 

"OOOOOOOOHHHHH," she gasped as she felt the head of his penis pummel against 
the wall of her cervix, stretching her, cutting her in half, yet he was not 
yet fully embedded into her. 

She wished that someone would cut her knees and ankles loose so that she 
could raise her legs and ease the pain he was inflicting inside her. 

"Please ... please ..." she groaned in her helpless torment. "Let me loose!" 

"Cut her ankles," Mel ordered Regis as he re loaded his camera. "Let her 
free." 

Regis bent over and quickly cut the ropes that were binding her ankles and 
she immediately raised her knees toward her shoulders as the giant Negro 
drove harder and harder into her. Sam grabbed her knees and split them so 
far apart that she thought the weight of his hips would crush her pelvis 
into a mass of splintered and broken bones. 

"Come on, baby," he grunted. "Come on!" 

"Oh ... yes.. . fuckme... fuck me ..." she groaned against the tearing pain, 
not believing that the words were actually coming from her lips. 

"That's my girl," Mel gloated as he watched the huge Negro grind his hips 
cruelly down between her open and wide-spread legs. 

She had never felt anything so big in her life, never dreamed that a man 
could be so huge, yet her body ached for more, demanded more. She felt his 
fingers dig between the crevice of her buttocks and one thick finger probe 
at her anus with renewed fury. She was being impaled from both directions 
and she couldn't move. The pressure in her buttocks was almost unbearable, 
but each time he thrust his massive, gigantic organ deep into her passage 
she bucked against him, allowing him to insert his finger deeper and deeper 
between her tight, constricted buttocks. 

The Negro was sweating as he worked furiously up and down on the weakening 
girl. His weight was crushing her and taking her breath away and she was 
sure that she was going to faint, but somehow she managed to keep awake ... 
awake and cognizant of everything and every torture her body was being 
subjected to. 

"Let her have it," Regis urged. "Give it to her good, fuck her harder ... 
harder!" 

Every man in the room envied Sam and wished that he too were ravaging this 
beautiful girl and wondered if there would be anything left when it came 
their turn. 

"She'll be stretched so wide that she'll be useless," Mel chagrined, "but I 
have another idea!" 

The Negro grunted and shivered, his legs trembled and he could feel a 
shudder run through his testicles and down the shaft of his pulsing, swollen 
penis and he knew that he couldn't wait any longer for his climax. She was 
weakly trying to raise her hips up against him and was uttering soft, 
pleading words that he couldn't hear when she felt his warm, raging liquid 
spill fruitfully into her body. 

"Ooooooohhh God," she gasped, hoping that she could reach her own climax 
before he had emptied all of himself into her. 

"Don't stop ... no ... not now," she begged. "Please ... not now," but it 
was too late, the mountain of a man was emptying himself into her with the 
fury of a floodtide. Her legs relaxed helplessly against the floor and she 
twitched and writhed in an effort to keep his huge, slowly deflating penis 
inside her until she had cum, but it was useless. Sam fell on top of her 
heavily and exhaustedly as her frustration mounted and stormed through her 
denied vaginal opening. His finger was still implanted in her buttocks as 
she lay limp and frustrated on the floor. Sam pulled his hand cruelly away 
from her buttocks, hurting the tight elastic ring of her anus as he pulled 
his finger free. 

She was sobbing, her breasts heaving as she squirmed against the bonds that 
were still holding her wrists tied above her head 

She looked up at Mel, her eyes pleading for him to do something, anything to 
stop the terrible ache that was inside her. He grinned down at her and 
asked, "You want some more,-baby!" 

She closed her eyes, ashamed of her own desires and he just laughed. 

"I guess it's my turn," he said. "Regis, cut. her wrists free, I want to 
turn her over." 

She rubbed her wrists in an effort to start the circulation again, but 
before she could soothe them, she felt two pairs of hands turning her over 
on her stomach. 

Mel had shed his clothes quickly, his fat, paunchy body looking almost 
comical against the strong, masculine build of the Negro. 

"I want to try her tighter little opening," he chuckled. "Hold her up," he 
ordered the two thugs who were eyeing him with envy. 

"On your knees, baby," he commanded her, but she was too weak to comply. 

"Help her, you goons," he ordered the other men, positioning himself in back 
of her. 

She felt rough, calloused hands reach beneath her and pull her harshly up 
around her waist, fingers tweaking her breasts and feeling the dampness of 
her stretched and frustrated vagina. She was limp as they manipulated her 
into position, and Mel ordered the men to hold her there. 

She could feel him behind her, his hands separating the smooth, white globes 
of her buttocks and could imagine his small beady eyes examining the tiny 
aperture of her abused and aching anus. His bony knees moved up until she 
felt them against the fleshy fullness of her thighs and his hands cup her 
breasts, while the others held her buttocks upright in the air. 

"Noooo," she groaned, knowing what he was going to do to her. "P ... Please 
don't do it to me there ..." 

"You'll like it, baby," he chuckled maliciously. "It'll feel good ... nice 
and tight!" 

She began to slip and Mel yelled -at the men to hold her tightly. "Don't let 
her slip until I'm inside her." 

He wet his lips, savoring every delicious moment of this final degradation 
of this young, famous beauty, the glans of his penis already damp and ready 
for entry. She could feel his stubby knob prod at her tiny opening as he 
held her buttock cheeks splayed apart. He fingered her briefly, feeling the 
tightness of the opening as she cried out in pain, then shoved his hips 
forward until he could feel the head of his penis stretch the tightly 
resisting nether ring and slip reluctantly inside her rectum. 

"Push her back," he ordered the men, "Harder ... push her back!" 

The walls of her rectum chafed against his sen sitive penis, pulling his 
foreskin back and forth over his thick, stubby rod painfully, but it was a 
delicious kind of pairs, one that he enjoyed and craved. 

"What a sweet little ass," he choked, "so tight ... so damn tight!" 

She felt as though she were being- skewered on an immovable peg, a branding 
iron and she choked on her tears of humiliation and pain. He reached in 
front of her and dug his fingers into her thigh, pulling her back even 
further onto his thick, jerking phallus. 

"Oh, my god," he gasped, feeling the tightness surround his pulsing cock. 

"Oh, my God!" 

The others watched enviously as he pounded his flabby hips against the fair, 
suppleness of her thighs and his short, fat penis disappeared between the 
two soft, now yielding globes of her upraised buttocks. 

Tier thighs were wide and helpless and her anus was splitting with a pain so 
terrible that she wished that she could pass out. She could feel the hard 
intrusion of his hardened cock widening her back passage, chafing and 
pulling at the tender skin. His hands gripped into her with increasing 
pressure and the pain got worse and worse with each sickening, degrading 
thrust. Stifled sobs broke from her lips as he drove deeper and deeper into 
her constricting channel, until suddenly, a seeming eternity later, he was 
buried deep inside her, his cock pulsing inside her in its entirety. He 
rocked back and forth on his knees, pummeling into her with long, steady 
strokes, torturing her with the whole length of his rigid, throbbing member. 

"She's so tight ... so fucking tight," he gasped, lunging at her and pulling 
her back onto him with renewed fury. 

She could feel the fingers of the other men probe her vagina and play with 
her breasts as they held her and watched the fat man work steadily into her. 
Her insides were on fire, a painful, tearing sensation shattered her entire 
body as she was held a helpless prisoner impaled like a slave girl on his 
thrusting penis. 

Her breasts heaved with sobs and she knew that she would ache for the rest 
of her life from this horrible, torturous experience. Never again would she 
feel clean and whole, it was as if he were drawing every ounce of self 
respect out of her with each new lunge. She wished that he would reach his 
climax so that her torture would end. The pain in her conscience would never 
go away, but the bodily pain was her main concern now. She wasn't sure how 
much longer she could endure this punishment. 

His penis was like a rough-edged sword sawing away at her very insides, 
slicing her, cutting her with each jagged movement. 

"God, what an ass," he gasped. "I can't take it much longer ... it's too 
good ... too tight!" 

She could sense that he was about to reach his climax and she could feel his 
legs trembling against the back of her thighs. She hit into her lip again, 
trying to endure this final bit of humili ation as he screwed into her with 
one last final effort. He grasped her thighs cruelly and held her tightly as 
he spilled his sperm deep into her rectum. It lubricated her passage 
somewhat and eased the pain, but it was too late, much too late, the pain 
and degradation she knew would be with her for all time to come was there in 
her mind ... and there it would always stay ... 

She could feel his penis become limp and lifeless as the last ounce of his 
sperm trickled from his deflated rod and he slid easily out of her. The 
hands that were holding her released their grip and she fell in a trembling, 
sobbing heap on the soft, heavy carpet of the cabin. She felt cold and wet 
and her whole body was shaking, her nerves and spirit completely shattered. 
She could hear voices talking, but they seemed to be in the distance as she 
curled her knees up against her chest and tried to protect herself from any 
further advances. 

"Let her rest for awhile," Mel ordered, "then we can start over again. I'm 
sure you others can find something to keep' yourselves busy," he laughed. 

Monique was already stripped and lying on the bed, waiting anxiously for the 
first man to get his clothes off. The other woman was in the corner 
finishing her drink and looking at Sam invitingly. 

"This is some swinging group," Mel wheezed and went topside for a breath of 
fresh mountain air. 

 Chapter 6 

When she awoke she was lying on a bunk with a rough wool blanket covering 
her. She looked around to get her hearings then remembered that she was on a 
yacht. The others were not in the cabin so she tiptoed quietly to the basin 
and filled it with water. Her whole body ached and she was bruised, her 
breasts felt sore to the touch and her thighs were still weak and trembling. 
She shook her head to try to clear it, but the affects of the alcohol were 
pounding inside her brain. She looked at her watch and saw that it was 
nearly noon. She dressed quickly and went on top, but didn't see anyone. 

The yacht had been moored to a tiny pier and as she looked over the 
starboard side she saw a path leading to a small cabin. She wanted to get 
away,. but she didn't know where she was, or even for sure what country she 
was in. Hesitantly she walked down the plank leading to the dock and headed 
for the cabin. She was about halfway tip the path when Mel greeted her. 

"Well, good morning, you sleep well?" 

She couldn't believe that he could be so blase and cheerful after the 
torturous night they had put her through. 

"Too bad you passed out last night," he told her, "You missed a lot of the 
fun!" 

"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. 

"Come on in, we're just making lunch." 

She followed him into the house with slow and painful steps. The others 
looked and greeted her as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

"Care' to see the first proofs of our movie," Regis asked her, throwing her 
the Polaroid prints that Mel had taken of her the night before. She cringed 
as she viewed herself with Sam on top of her. A look of total depravation 
was on her face and her body was arched wantonly up against his monstrous 
frame, his thick, hard cock poised at the point of entry. 

"Uuuugggh," she groaned and she started to tear up the prints. 

"We have duplicates," Mel warned her, "so don't do anything foolish that 
you'll regret." 

Her stomach was retching and she felt weak, yet she knew that she should eat 
something .if she were to keep her strength up. 

Regis handed her a cup of steaming coffee and some slightly burnt toast and 
patted her affectionately on the knee. 

"Don't take it so hard, you may actually get to enjoy it. May be the 
beginning of a whole new career for you." 

"I doubt that," she said coldly. "When are we going back to Paris?" 

"What's your hurry, we thought that we'd shoot some of the film right here, 
it's secluded enough and no one around to bother us while we're at work," 
Mel chuckled. 

The other women looked as though they had taken on all the men after they 
had finished with her, but they just sat there as though it were a matter of 
course. 

"I feel terrible," she groaned, collapsing in a wicker backed chair. 

"It's always worse the first time around," Monique told her, trying to be 
sympathetic. "Men can be so cruel At times, you learn that after awhile." 

"I'll never get used to the. treatment I got last night," she told her 
bitterly. 

"Suit yourself, it's your picnic." 

Mel was already pouring large glasses of wine for each of them, and just the 
smell of it made her feel nauseous. 

"Drink it," he told her, "it will relax you and make it easier to take." 

Her hands were shaking as she raised the glass to her lips. It tasted rancid 
and heavy, but she took one long gulp, swallowing hard in an effort to let 
it settle in her stomach that was already churning. 

"I'll let you people relax for awhile while I get my equipment from the 
yacht. We're shooting in living color today so everyone fix themselves up so 
that you're at your best!" 

She had a strange desire to laugh and throw her glass at him, but he was out 
the door before she could raise her hand. 

"I wonder what perverted goodies he has in store for us today," Monique 
laughed. "He told me I'd be in movies, but even I didn't expect anything 
like this." 

Regis grinned and slapped her soundly on the behind. "Just think though, 
you'll be famous in the best brothels in Europe. Every man at a stag smoker 
will want to have you. It's bound to help your business!" 

"Very funny," she giggled. 

Mel returned shortly and began to set up cameras and other equipment then 
told the girls to strip to their underwear. Jennifer didn't budge from her 
chair and Regis warned her that if she didn't cooperate that she would be 
tied down again, and he was certain that she didn't want that. She couldn't 
believe that these men were serious, that they would actually subject them 
to further indignities and then actually use the films in brothels and 
underground movie houses. 

"How would you like these pictures to be sent to your father," Mel warned 
her. She thought back to her first experience in high school and how close 
she had come to her father seeing some pictures that had been taken then and 
she shuddered. She knew that he wasn't beyond going this far, so reluctantly 
she began to undress and line up with the other girls. Sam was already 
dressed in his scanty loin cloth as Mel yelled orders and gave everyone 
their positions. The shooting went on for several hours and she was mauled, 
raped, degraded in ways she hadn't imagined possible, lout it didn't seem to 
matter anymore. She knew that she would have to do as he said or these 
pictures would be released to people who would use them against her in any 
way they could. They stayed on the yacht again that night and shot more film 
the next day. By the end of the second day she was numb to everything that 
was going on around her. She stayed slightly drunk on wine most of the time 
so that it would ease the pain and maybe her memory. After the second day, 
Mel announced that he had enough and they would be returning to Paris. 
Jennifer felt relieved, yet she knew that he would hold the pictures and the 
movies over her head as long as she lived and she was powerless to stop him. 

The plane picked them up at the same spot where it had left them and they 
followed the same route back into the city. She knew that she would have to 
leave Paris, get away, but Mel had told her that he would keep in touch with 
her so she shouldn't go too far. He tried to be pleasant about it, but she 
knew that he was threatening her and she had better do as he asked. 

"I'll be having a premiere of these films for a few selected friends in a 
week or so and I want you to be there," he told her. 

"I was thinking about going back to the States," she said weakly, "I may not 
be here." 

"You'd better be here, I'll be keeping an eye on you and you know what I can 
do to you if you try to double-cross me!" His eyes were cruel and narrow as 
he looked at her. She tried to meet his stare, but her insides were melting 
and shak- ing. A dozen thoughts crossed her mind, but she knew that she had 
no alternative, she would have to do as he asked, she couldn't risk letting 
the pictures or movies fall into the wrong hands. 

He dropped her off at her hotel and she staggered weakly to her room and 
collapsed on the bed and slept for eighteen long, much needed hours. 

She spent the next week wandering around the local museums and cafes of 
Paris, not caring about anything, not knowing what she would do or how she 
would get away from the hold that Mel had on her. She couldn't believe that 
she had been so taken in by his sincerity. She thought that she had learned 
her lesson in Hollywood and she chided herself for believing that anyone 
would actually be willing to help her without paying a price. She had no one 
to blame but herself, yet she didn't think that she could cope with the 
angry, frustrated feeling she had building inside. 

Regis had called her several times since the filming, but she never returned 
his calls, she didn't want to see anyone, anyone at all. She wished that she 
could go to her father and tell him what had happened, but she didn't think 
that she could bear the disappointment he would have in her. She knew that 
she would have to return to the States after the little party Mel had 
planned for the showing of the films, so she checked into the cruise ships 
that would be departing in a few weeks and made arrangements to sail on one 
of them. She needed the time to think and relax, try to find a solution to 
her problem. For the first time in her life she found herself praying, 
silently begging for a way out when none seemed possible. She reflected on 
what she had done with her life since she had left home and it wasn't a 
pretty picture. Her chosen way had aged her way beyond her years and there 
was no going back, back to her lost innocence and youth. She had become 
jaded and bitter and at times she felt as though there were nothing left to 
live for, then blocked those thoughts from her mind. She knew that she was 
running away and that she would take her problems with her, but somehow this 
seemed to be the only thing that could keep her going. 

Later in the week she received a call from Niel and a message to meet at a 
private house on the other side of Paris. She knew that this was probably 
the night he had chosen to view the films. She felt sick and wished that 
there were some way that she wouldn't have to go, but Mel would never allow 
that, he would ruin her if she didn't show up. She wondered if the others 
would be there also, certain that he had used the same threat on them if 
they didn't. 

She procrastinated as she dressed, choosing the most conservative outfit in 
her wardrobe, but nothing could hide the voluptuous, ripe figure that had 
once been her key to stardom. She hoped that she wouldn't know any one of 
the special friends that Mel had invited, but it would be so much like him 
to make sure that she did know them, knowing full well that it would only 
degrade and humiliate her more, if that were possi ble. She asked the desk 
clerk to get her a taxi, and hesitantly she left for the showing. The house 
was on the outskirts of Paris and she trembled as the taxi weaved in and out 
of dimly lit streets and finally pulled up in front of an old, large private 
home. The driveway was already jammed with limousines and cars and it 
appeared that Mel was expecting a very large crowd. A butler opened the door 
when she knocked and greeted her by name. She looked up and saw that it was 
Sam, she had hardly recognized him in his formal attire. He grinned at her 
and took her coat. She walked to the edge of a large room and looked around 
praying that she would not recognize anyone, or that anyone would recognize 
her, but just then Mel appeared and took her by the hand. His manner was the 
same smooth and warm decorum that had first made her trust him. He took her 
by the hand and began to introduce her to the men who were casually sitting 
and standing, drinking and talking. There were a few women present, 
dowagers, obviously wealthy and sophisticated. 

If she didn't know better, she would have thought that she was walking into 
a Beverly Hills cocktail party. Mel beamed as he introduced her as the star 
of the film as the men gave her appraising glances and the women giggled. 

"Have you been in the film industry long," one man asked her, "outside of 
Hollywood, I mean?" 

"No, this was my first," she stammered. 

"I understand that its one of Mel's finest, 1' m anxious to see it." She 
could feel the eyes mentally undressing her and she felt uncomfortable. She 
looked around for Monique, but evidently she hadn't arrived yet. She didn't 
know how she would be able to bear watching the film with everyone there 
knowing what she had done and had allowed to be done to her. 

"Don't worry, dear," Mel whispered to her, "It's a very sophisticated and 
broad-minded group." 

"I can tell," she said sarcastically. 

She went to the bar and ordered a large scotch and drank it with almost one 
gulp and ordered another. Alcohol had become her scapegoat lately, it let 
her forget her worries and her conscience and she knew that she was on a 
rapid downhill slide with no where to go unless she got away from these 
terrible people and could try to start again. She had to laugh because that 
was what she had intended to do when she went to Nice and then back to Paris 
and look where it had gotten her! She guessed the man who had said, "You can 
never go home again," was right and it made her laugh. 

Several of the women asked her how it had felt and if it was really exciting 
to be photographed in the nude and in "compromising" situations, as they so 
delicately put it. 

"It was lousy," she said, not making an effort to be polite, and not caring 
what they thought or if she had insulted them. She imagined that they were 
all just frustrated old matrons who hadn't been in bed with a man in years 
and they got a vicarious thrill watching someone else hu miliated and 
debased. 

Mel waited until his guests had all arrived, then announced that they would 
be adjourning into the library for the preview of the film. Jennifer knew 
that this moment had to come, but- she wasn't prepared for the knowing 
smirks and lustful stares that she would have to endure. She walked to the 
back of the room and tried to hide in a corner, but Mel soon found her and 
led her to the front, just before the lights began to dim. The film began 
and the room was terrifyingly quiet, everyone sitting on the edge of their 
seats to watch the lewd and lustful show. The still shots that Mel had taken 
of her on the boat were flashed across the screen in rapid succession as she 
listened to the "ooohs" and "aaahhs" of the men and women around her. Soft 
and seductive music was being played in the background as she watched 
horrified as Sam made love to her, Monique and the other woman without 
stopping to rest in between. She saw her body twisted and prodded by the 
rough looking thugs as they forced her to make love to them, sometimes two 
at a time. She cringed, yet she found it strangely exciting as she watched 
and remembered the naked bodies linked to one another in the various forms 
of lovemaking. She tried to study the faces of the people nearest her, but 
it was too dark. 

Every once in awhile she could hear a feminine giggle coming from the back 
of the room and she swore silently, clenching her fists and wishing that it 
would soon be over. 

This was the ultimate in her degradation, the final coup and she closed her 
eyes, refusing to watch the rest of the movie. Mel was rubbing his hands 
together anxiously and he reached out to touch her knee, but she turned in 
her chair so that he could not reach her without causing a disturbance. She 
felt as though she never wanted to make love again, never wanted anyone to 
touch her again. Something that she had once thought so beautiful, had 
become dirty and something to avoid. She knew that it would take time, 
perhaps months or years, before she could honestly feel she would enjoy the 
touch of a man. 

The movie seemed to drag on forever, but finally the curtain went down and 
the lights in the library went on. She looked around, waiting for the 
reaction, but the men were all wiping their brows and trying to straighten 
their trousers so their erections would not be obvious. The women lowered 
their eyes, afraid to let anyone see that they had enjoyed the lewd display. 
Jennifer rose quickly and headed for the other room and the doorway. Mel 
caught up with her and took her arm. 

"What's your hurry?" he asked. "Didn't you like your moving performance?" 

"You know how I feel about the whole thing," she told him, "Now may I get 
out of here and get some fresh, clean air?" 

"As you wish, but I thought that maybe I could interest you in a private 
life performance for a few of the guests. It would pay very well." 

"No thank you," she told him, wondering if he would actually let her go. 

"Go on then, but remember, keep ii) touch." She grimaced as he squeezed her 
hand in pseudo affection as she went to the door, hoping that a few cabs 
would still be outside waiting. She felt dirty and ugly as she .-ode back to 
tier hotel, but she knew that she would be leaving Paris in a few days and 
that lightened her spirits. 

"Seems like they had quite a party,"' the cab driver commented. "Aren't you 
leaving a little early?" 

"Not early enough, I'm afraid," she said softly and tried to think of more 
pleasant thoughts. 

 Chapter 7 

She heard the ship's whistle sound the warning signal and a gruff voice 
announce that it was time for all visitors to go ashore. She couldn't wait 
for the boat to pull away from the dock so that she could leave all her 
painful memories behind. She hadn't heard from Mel since the party and she 
hoped that he wouldn't know that she was leaving Paris for good. There was 
always a chance that she would run into him if she returned to Hollywood, 
but the chance of that was very minute at this stage of the game. She wanted 
to go home, stay at home, meet new people and completely shut herself from 
the tinsel world of the theatre. 

She hoped that her father wouldn't think that she was a quitter, because she 
could never tell hill) the real reason she was leaving Hollywood. She had 
wired her step-mother and told her that she would be coming home and gave 
her an approximate date of her arrival. She hadn't received a reply, but 
then there was no real need for one. 

She watched while the people threw their streamers, waved good-byes and 
threw kisses to those they were leaving behind. Slowly the huge ship began 
to move away from the pier and she walked toward her cabin. The porter had 
put her luggage in her stateroom for her so she had to follow the map he had 
given her so that she could find it. She had no idea that cruise ships were 
so large or so complicated, the graph of the decks looked like one of a 
small city. She opened the door with her key and looked around. On the stand 
next to her bed was a bottle of champagne and a bouquet of flowers. She 
wondered who could have sent them, then a chilling fear came over her. She 
ripped open the note which read, "Bon Voyage, Keep in touch!" The initials 
M.D. were at the bottom. She wanted to cry, scream, but instead she 
collapsed dejectedly on her bed. j She couldn't imagine how he had found out 
that she was leaving or why he hadn't tried to reach her before she left, 
but she was sure that he had his reasons. She tore up the note and put the 
flowers and champagne out in the corridor for whomever may find it and want 
it. She had decided that nothing was going to spoil her crossing, she was 
going to do nothing but eat, sleep and relax and try to straighten out her 
life. She wondered how her step-mother would react to her homecoming, 
whether she would be glad to have her home or whether it would be full of "I 
told you so s. 

She was just dozing off when she heard a light knock on the door. 

"Who is it?" she asked. 

"It's the cabin steward, m'am," he replied, "I've come to check on your 
table seating." 

"Just a moment," she answered. 

The steward was a young man about twentyeight, clean-cut, the type you see 
in the magazine ads, with the whitest teeth and the friendliest smile she 
had ever seen. 

She couldn't help but smile back at him as he stood nervously at the edge of 
her cabin. 

"I see that you've asked for a table alone," he told her. "The captain would 
like to know if you world care to join his table on the first night out. 
That way you could get to meet some of the others travelling on this deck." 

"Would you suggest it?" she asked shyly. 

"Definitely," he assured her, "I'm sure you'll find the con mpany very 
pleasant." 

"Then tell -the captain that I'd be delighted to have dinner at his table 
this evening." 

He paused before closing the door and told her, "If you need anything, I'll 
be your steward for the trip, so don't hesitate to ring for me." 

She thanked him again and told him that she didn't think she'd be needing 
anything, but if she did, she would let him know. 

She closed the door and lay back down on the bed. She was going to enjoy 
this trip, no one knew her, no one really cared who she was and she would 
have plenty of time to think. She looked at the schedule for meals and she 
was listed for the first seating, so she didn't have much time to (yet ready 
if she were going to dine with the captain. 

She knew that the first dinner was formal, so she carefully got out her most 
elegant gown and began to fix her hair. It would feel good to get really 
dressed up again. She took a long, luxurious bath, letting the hot water 
soothe. her nerves as she soaked. She closed her eyes and lay back, but the 
face of the handsome steward remained on her retina. She had never known 
many men outside of her year in Hollywood and they were all agents, fat, 
balding men and the older men who squired her around because they wanted to 
be seen with a younger, beautiful woman. She wondered what it would be like 
to date a young man, something she hadn't done since she was in high school. 
He looked so appealing in his neat, crisp uniform and his manner was so 
cordial without being forward. She was sure that this was why the lines 
hired this type of young man. She had heard that it was their job to 
entertain the single girls, the lonely older women, if necessary, and that 
many of them were gigolos, but somehow, he didn't seem the type. She 
wondered what his name was, but she would check on that later. 

She dried her wet skin, rubbing it vigorously until she had a nice, rosy 
glow. The ship swayed gently in the water and it was difficult for her to 
keep her balance, but she was sure that she would get used to it shortly. 

She sat naked in front of her mirror and rearranged her hair so that it was 
piled in loose curls on top of her head, accentuating her long, slim neck 
and the neckline of her gown that was just low enough to reveal her full, 
voluptuous cleavage. She hoped that it would not be too dar- ing, but she 
knew that she looked beautiful and she smiled back at her reflection. Her 
gown fit snugly over her hips and flared slightly just above her knees. The 
azure blue color matched her eyes and seemed to make them appear even larger 
than they were. She applied her make-up sparingly, not wanting to look too 
much older than her twenty-one years. 

As she was finishing she hard the three bells that announced that the first 
seating would be assembling in the dining room. She got out her graph of the 
ship's decks and followed it carefully down the corridor and through the 
doors that would lead her to the dining room. 

Many of the guests were already assembled in the small cocktail lounge that 
was located off to one side. She moved hesitantly toward the bar when she 
saw the smiling face of her steward and he asked if he could get her a 
drink. 

"I'd love a scotch," she smiled. "And, you didn't tell me your name. You 
seem to know mine, so that's not fair," she kidded him. 

"I'm Mark Price," he grinned almost sheepishly. "I left a card in your room, 
but I guess you missed it." 

"I didn't have too much time to get dressed, I'm afraid I didn't notice much 
in the room." 

He handed her a scotch and she made her way to the corner of the bar. 
Several groups of men and women were standing around talking and drinking as 
though they had known each other for years. She wished that she were more 
outgoing, but after her previous experiences she was hesitant to talk with 
anyone. An older man came up beside her and asked if she were returning to 
the United States or whether she lived in Paris. 

"I'm going home," she said simply, "I've just been visiting in Paris." 

"This is my first trip to the States," he explained, and she caught a hint 
of an accent, but nothing too noticeable. 

"Your English is excellent," she commented. "Where did you learn?" 

"I was educated in Switzerland, but I've worked for an American firm in 
Europe, so this is mostly business." 

"Oh," she said, not knowing what else to say. She didn't want to get 
involved with anyone on her first night out, or any night out for that 
matter. 

He seemed to take the hint and moved away from her, nodding politely and 
saying that it was nice talking to her. She wished that she weren't so 
apprehensive, but after her ordeal in Paris, she just wanted to be alone for 
awhile. 

She was on her second drink when someone announced that they were ready to 
seat for dinner. 

"Follow, me," Mark told her, "I'll show you where the Captain's Table is." 

He offered her his arm and escorted her to the table. The captain was a 
rugged looking man about fifty, with a well-tanned face, the kind that 
inspired confidence in any situation. He greeted his guests warmly, naming 
each one individually and telling them that he hoped they would enjoy the 
crossing. 

She was seated between a buyer from a New York clothing firm who had been to 
the Collections and an older woman who had just been seeing the sights. Most 
of the guests were older, with the exception of one family at one end of the 
table who were trying to keep their two young sons quiet. Everyone chatted 
cordially, including her in the conversation. 

"You look so familiar," the buyer said to her. "I know I've seen you 
somewhere before. 

Jennifer didn't answer, but the captain interrupted and said, "Yes, Miss 
Rhodes .has appeared in many films, so it is no wonder that her face would 
look familiar." 

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, then she heard someone chuckle behind 
her. She turned around and saw Mark grinning down at her. - 

"How interesting," the dowager next to her commented, not really caring how 
many films she had been in. She looked like the type who thought that 
everyone in the film industry was a common whore or pimp and no one that she 
would care to associate with, with the exception of Cary Grant and she gave 
a five minute dissertation on how handsome and talented she thought he was. 
"Of course, not everyone can reach those heights," she said. 

"Very true," Jennifer smiled insincerely, and thought to herself, not 
everyone can sink as low as I have. 

She wished that the dinner would soon be over, but the waiters kept bringing 
course after course until she thought that she couldn't possibly eat another 
morsel. , 

"After dinner drinks will be served in the bar," the captain announced, and 
she breathed a sight of relief. 

She walked quickly back to the bar, but Mark interrupted her and told her 
that he would be free in an hour or so and asked her if she Would join him 
for a drink later. 

His smile was so infectuous that she couldn't resist and told him that she'd 
love to. 

"I know it must be rough to be in the public eye, and believe me, I don't 
want to bother you, but you look so lost, regardless of your fame, so if I 
can help, it would please me very much." 

His manner seemed almost practiced, but his tone of voice was sincere and 
his eyes sparkled as he spoke to her. 

"I could use refreshing company," she added, "And I think you're just what 
the doctor orderedl" 

She decided that she would go back to her cabin, change her gown then go 
back to meet Mark in an hour. She hadn't planned on seeing anyone at all, 
but she could use some moral support and he was very kind. 

She changed into a simple crepe dress that clung to her body like it had 
been made on her. She wished that she had some more conservative clothes, 
but this was her image that had been created for her, so she was limited in 
what she could wear. 

She paced up and down in her cabin for about a half an hour, then decided 
that she would go up on the deck. She was turning the corner in the corridor 
when Mark greeted her. 

"Hi, been looking for you. I got off a little early." 

"I couldn't stay in my cabin any longer, so I thought that I'd go up on the 
deck for some air." 

"Let's go," he said, taking her arm. 

"Do you treat all the girls like this?" she asked, "this specialized 
service!" 

"Just the beautiful ones," he kidded her. 

"Oh," she said. 

"Come on, now, don't take me seriously, I was just kidding you." 

She laughed and told him, "I guess I've lost my sense of humor, but somehow 
I find it difficult to see humor in anything lately." 

"You're much too young to be so bitter," he said. "I know that the film 
industry can be demandiiig and make you grow up, sometimes too fast, but you 
can't let it ruin your life." 

She knew that he was just being polite, because no one outside the industry 
could possibly realize everything that was or had been involved. 

"Are you going back to Hollywood?" he asked her. "Going to make more films?" 

"No, I'm going to go home for awhile, start divorce proceedings against my 
husband and try to start all over again." 

"You couldn't have been married very long," he commented. "Was it that 
bad?" 

"He was much older," she answered him, "It just didn't work." 

"I won't pry, but I do hope that everything works out for you." 

"I hope so too." 

They walked along the deck and he took her hand as if it were the most 
natural thing in the world. She was beginning to feel like a school girl 
again, full of hope and golden dreams. She looked up at his handsome, virile 
face and smiled at him. He made her feel safe, protected and her stomach was 
fluttering like she was on her very first date. He was so unlike anyone else 
she had ever met. 

"I'd like to see a lot of you in the next few days," he told her, looking 
directly into her luminous, sparkling eyes, "that is, if it's all right." 

"I think that I'd enjoy that very much." 

"Great," he grinned and she felt that he was sincerely pleased and wasn't 
just saying it to make her feel good. 

"Would you like to get a drink, I could use one?" he asked. 

"I guess I could too," and she followed him to another smaller bar at the 
other end of the deck. There was a small dance combo playing romantic songs 
and he helped her into a seat at the bar. 

"This is my favorite spot on board," he said matter-of-factly. 

He ordered another scotch for her and one for himself, lifted his glass and 
touched hers. "I'm drinking with the loveliest girl in the world." 

She blushed and lowered her eyes. He hadn't said beautiful, but lovely and 
it made her feel as though, he were referring to much more than her physical 
attributes. 

They drank slowly, just listening to the music, when he asked her if she'd 
like to dance. It had been so long since she had felt like dancing, but she 
nodded and he led her to the floor. His arms felt strong around her as he 
held her close and they moved as one across the tiny floor. He had to take a 
deep breath to control his feelings. She felt so warm and feminine against 
him. Her breasts seemed to be making an indentation on his hard, muscular 
chest, and her waist was so narrow that he thought if he held her any 
tighter that she would break in half. She swayed against the finale hardness 
of his body and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to lie 
next to such a strong, young man, to be completely in love and feel 
tenderness again. 

His lips brushed the top of her head and her cheek as the song ended, yet he 
didn't release her. 

"You fit in my arms very well," he grinned. "I hate to let you go." 

She didn't answer him, but she didn't protest, knowing that somehow, in 
spite of her vow not to get involved, the next few days were going to be 
very interesting. 

They danced for several more numbers before he took her hand and led her 
back to the bar. 

"I think I'd better take a breather," he laughed good-naturedly. 

"I know what you mean," she said shyly. 

The electricity was there, there was no denying it. He had made her feel 
what she thought she had lost forever, and in just a few short hours. She 
smiled to herself and had the feeling that everything would be just fine. 

It was nearly two in the morning when he walked her back to her cabin. 

"I sleep on another deck," he told her, "but I'll see you first thing in the 
morning." 

He held her for a moment and kissed her tenderly, pressing his mouth against 
her full sensuous lips. The kiss held a hint of urgency, but he pulled away 
and kissed her. cheek. 

"I'd better watch my manners, don't want to scare you," he kidded. 

She looked up at him and put her hands on either side of his face and drew 
it down toward her once again and kissed him gently and. firmly. He looked 
at her puzzled, but said nothing, opened the door for her and said good 
night. 

"Good night," she whispered, "I'll see you in the morning." 

She undressed slowly, letting her dress lie on the chair for the maid to 
pick up in the morning, slipped into a thin, transparent negligee and lay on 
top of the cool sheets. 

She felt alive, vibrant and her breasts tingled with a strange desire. She 
knew that this young man had had a definite affect on her and she wondered 
if she could be falling in love with him. She had wanted him to make love to 
her, but the timing wasn't right, so they would have to wait, at least she 
would try. He had shown her a gentleness that she had never known and it 
confused her. 

She ran her hands over her breasts and her nipples sprung into involuntary 
erectness, her thighs were shaking and she found the all-too-familiar knot 
in her stomach was growing larger. She squirmed nervously on her bed in an 
effort to stop her tense, wanting feeling and she rubbed her thighs together 
in quick, tickling movements. 

The ocean air blew in through a porthole and felt cool against her face and 
finally lulled her to sleep. She slept as she hadn't slept since she was a 
child, the haunting memories of Paris and Nice eradicated from her mind. 

Early the next morning the maid knocked on the door and delivered one yellow 
rose with a note from Mark. It read, "I'll see you after breakfast. It was 
the best night of my life." 

She kissed the rose and placed it in a vase on her nightstand. Her heart was 
beating rapidly as she quickly showered and dressed so that she wouldn't be 
late for her seating. 

Mark smiled at her from across the dining room and she could feel the color 
rise in her cheeks. Her table was in one corner of the room and she was 
eating alone as she had requested. Several of the guests greeted her and she 
hoped that her excitement wasn't too obvious. She nearly gulped down her 
juice and coffee, and only picked at her ham and eggs, she couldn't think 
about eating, she could only think about being with Mark. 

Mark walked by her table and asked her to meet him by the pool when she 
finished her breakfast and she nodded that she would. 

She went to her cabin and changed into a brief bikini and put a short lace 
robe over the suit and walked to the pool. Her skin was so pale and she 
wished that she had gotten a tan while she was in Nice, she felt so white. 
She settled down in a lounge chair at one end of the pool, barely conscious 
of the admiring stares she was receiving from the myriads of men assembled 
there to watch the bathing suit parade. Her full, round breasts stood in 
proud mounds above the top of the bikini and her legs tapered sleekly. Her 
stomach was silky and smooth, her narrow waist made the fullness of her hips 
appear even more voluptuous. 

She looked around nervously for Mark hoping that she wouldn't have to wait 
very long. He was taking long, even strides across the pool court to meet 
her and she unconsciously wrapped her robe more closely around her, 
embarrassed and shy. He whistled softly when he saw her and she had to 
laugh. 

"I only wear bikinis," she said apologetically, "It's the only thing I own." 

"Wow, I'm going to have some competition from every other man on board," he 
teased. 

She studied the strong ruggedness, the solid muscles of his body, 
remembering how it felt when they were dancing the night before. 

"How about a Bloody Mary for starters?" he asked. 

She really didn't want to go in the water, and she was glad that he had 
given her an excuse to procrastinate. Mark motioned to a waiter and ordered 
the drinks for them and pulled up a chair next to her. 

"You're even more lovely in the daylight," he told her. 

"You mean, it wasn't just the sea air and moonlight?" she asked. 

"Not at all ... hardly ... it was just you." 

She could feel that warm, nervous tingling churn her stomach again, as he 
reached out and took her hand. 

She nursed her drink cautiously, knowing that the sun and the alcohol was 
not a good combination, but she needed something to relax her, she felt as 
though her legs would be rubbery and weak if she tried to stand up and walk 
now. 

Mark kept staring at her and grinning and it made her feel self-conscious, 
but in a good, thrilliiig way. 

The sun beat down on them heating their bodies, tanning them with the strong 
rays, and she shifted in her chair. 

"Want to cool off," he suggested. 

"I am getting warm, and I'm not sure whether it's you or the sun," she 
laughed, and got up to walk to the edge of the pool. He watched as she knelt 
down to splash the cool water over leer body. He wondered how her breasts 
managed to stay covered and had the greatest desire to take the delicious 
orbs in his hands, feel their ripe softness between his fingers. No woman 
had ever affected him this way. He had had his ship board romances, but this 
was something different, something special. She had the longest, trimmest 
legs he had ever seen and she looked almost unreal. He adjusted his bathing 
trunks so that the erection that was beginning to bulge inside would be 
hidden. He knew that he would have to have her, make love to her, feel her 
against him, naked and warm, but he didn't want to rush. her. 

She looked back at him and splashed water at him. With each movement of her 
arms, her breasts jiggled sensuously, and he had to close his eyes so that 
he could control his animal urges. 

Her body glistened from the water when she sat down, little rivers of water 
trickling between the cleavage of her breasts. ' 

"I can't get too much sun at once," she told him, looking for an excuse to 
go to her cabin and change. She found it just as. difficult to look at him 
in his trunks and not want him next to her, making love to her. 

"Let's have another drink," she suggested, "then I'd better go back and 
change." 

"I hate to let you out of my sight, I'm afraid that someone might kidnap you 
while you're gone." 

"Then come with me," she told him, her eyes offering an irrestible 
challenge. 

"Is that safe," he teased. 

"Well, we'll find out, won't we?" 

She knew that she was being forward, but she didn't think that she could 
bear not having him hold her for another moment. 

He carried their drinks as they walked back toward her cabin. She moved with 
such grace, so sensuously that he wanted to pin her against the wall in the 
corridor and cover her with kisses. 

She opened the door to her cabin and they went in. He set the drinks down 
and put his hands on her shoulders. She was shaking as she turned to face 
him and her lips met his in a passionate, demanding kiss. His tongue slipped 
between her teeth and she parted her lips to return his kiss with mutual 
urgency. Her nails dug into the muscles of his back and she clung to him as 
she moaned softly. 

"Darling," he whispered huskily, gently holding her away from him. 

"Oh yes ... yes ..." she murmured. 

They both knew that they wanted each other, yet them hesitated with the 
shyness of teen-agers. 

"Are you sure," he asked, his voice choked with emotion. 

"I'm sure," she answered and followed unresisting as he pulled her down on 
the edge of the bed. 

His hands ran slowly and tenderly down her sides, squeezing the slimness of 
her waist and feeling the fullness of her hips. He pressed his body next to 
hers and she could feel the already hard erectness of his penis through his 
trunks. 

"Let me get out of my wet suit," she said, quickly moving from the bed 
toward her bathroom. Her breasts were swollen and her nipples already erect 
from his first kiss. She let her suit drop to the floor and wrapped a large 
terrycloth towel around her and walked back toward him. He knew that she was 
naked beneath her covering, but it only excited him more. She dropped to the 
bed next to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He could feel 
the softness of her breasts as his hand slipped beneath the towel and his 
fingers closed over her hardened nipples. 

"Oooooooohhh," she moaned softly, as his lips crushed hers harshly. 

"God," he groaned and took her hand and guided it to the rising, hardened 
bulge inside his trunks. He could feel the warmth of her fingers through the 
elastic material massaging his long, thick rod until he thought he would 
burst through the material. 

"So good ... so good," he whispered, pulling the towel away from her body. 
She did not try to hide from his admiring, passionate gaze as he devoured 
her body with his eyes. He wanted to smother her in kisses and he took her 
head in his hands and kissed her tenderly at first, then with increasing 
urgency. She bit gently into the side of his neck as her hand worked 
desperately to fit inside the tight elastic of his trunks. He raised his 
hips slightly so that she could pull theirs from his hips. He kicked them to 
the floor with his foot and rolled over so that his body lay naked and 
wanting next to hers. 

"Darling," she whispered ... "Oh darling." 

Her hand tenderly held his testicles, jiggling them slightly, feeling their 
weight as her fingers closed around his thick, hardened bludgeon. He gasped 
when she touched hire, hoping that he could wait before taking her. His 
hands explored every inch of her body as she relaxed beneath his touch, 
unashamed and open. 

"Baby ... baby," he groaned, "I want you so much." 

"I want you," she murmured, "I didn't think I could ever feel like this." 

"Yes, it's so good," he gasped as her fingers tightened around his throbbing 
penis. 

His hands smoothed over the flatness of her belly until he could feel the 
soft fleecy down of her pubus and in answer she wriggled anxiously against 
him, feeling the pressure building within her loins. His fingers grasped the 
full roundness of her buttocks as she turned toward him, spreading her legs 
slightly. Her thighs were quivering as his fingers slid gently over the tiny 
slit of her vagina, searching for the nub of her clitoris. 

"Yes ... yes," she groaned, "Touch me there, darling." 

She was already beginning to lubricate and she couldn't help herself, she 
had never wanted anyone so much in her whole life. Her hands massaged the 
length of his gently pulsing penis and pulled its hardness toward the 
vulnerable and aching opening between her legs. 

"Easy, darling," he groaned, knowing that once he was inside her he would 
not be able to wait. 

"I want you so much," she choked, her breath coming in short little gasps. 

"Darling, I love you ... I love you," he murmured, no longer able to keep 
the words inside him. 

"I love you," she answered him, tears of joy welling in her eyes. 

His body was so hard against her smooth softness and he held her tight, so 
tightly that she had to fight for her breath. She scraped her nails softly 
over his testicles, tickling, teasing him, urn ing him to take her. 

He was shaking and his hands were quivering as he felt the moisture between 
her open thighs and he rubbed one finger roughly over the pulsing nob of her 
clitoris. 

"I can't stand it anymore," she moaned. "Please fuck me, darling." 

His lips sucked voraciously on the nipples of her breasts as she writhed and 
bucked against him. His finger slid easily inside her waiting channel and he 
could feel the warm dampness of her vaginal lining close around the 
thickness of his probing digit. She felt so tight, yet so ready and his 
blood was racing like a torrent through the length of his rock hard prick. 
He could feel the head of his penis secret a few drops of his seminal fluid 
and he felt like a darn about to burst. 

She pulled away from his desperate embrace and rolled over on her back, 
spreading her legs wide so that he could fit his hips between her waiting 
thighs. 

As he moved on top of her, she could feel the hard thickness of his manhood 
bob and jerk spastically against her thigh and belly. 

"Now ... now, darling," she begged him. 

"Yes ... yes," he gasped, feeling the glans of his penis against the wet 
warmness of her vagina. Her breasts were heaving and her whole body was 
trembling as she felt his blood red head ease inside of her. The clinging 
walls of her vagina closed around this thickness like a warm, wet cocoon, 
embracing him, holding him deep inside her body. 

"I love you," she murmured again, "Please love me." 

She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes arid he thought that he had 
never seen a woman so beautiful in his whole life and he knew that he was in 
love with her and never wanted to lose her. 

He thrust gently at first, feeling his entire length slip in and out of her. 
His hands grasped her buttocks harshly and he pulled her hips up from the 
bed so that he could go deeper into her until he could feel his penis touch 
the back of her cervix. 

"Oh yes ... oooooooh," she groaned, feeling his thickness strain at her 
tightly constricting cuntal walls. 

His body was ablaze with such a fiery passion that he thought he would go up 
in smoke, that he would totally disintegrate if he stayed inside her like 
this, yet he didn't want it to end, he wanted this terrible, gnawing passion 
to go, on forever. 

She raised her knees slightly to facilitate his entry and she wiggled her 
buttocks back and forth on the bed so that she could feel every part of him 
inside her. She reached behind him and ran her nails gently over his loose 
hanging testicles as they slapped softly against the smooth white ness of 
her upturned buttock. 

"I can't wait much longer," he gasped, feeling his throbbing penis become 
even thicker and he knew that he would soon cum. 

"Yes ... darling ... cum in me ... fill me," she begged. "Let me feel you 
cum inside me!" 

She screwed her hips up even higher against him and held his buttocks to her 
tightly, holding him inside her for just a moment so that she could feel his 
penis jerk just before he would jet his sperm deep into her. She could feel 
the walls of her vagina begin to twitch and contract as he thrust harder and 
deeper into her. 

"NOW ... NOW ..." she choked, "Cum with me ... NOW!" 

She felt as though her whole body was being consumed by his drubbing penis, 
that she was just the receptacle for his manhood and nothing else mattered 
as long as she could have him inside her. 

As she writhed and worked her hips against his she could feel the first hot 
stream of his sperm break loose inside her, wetting her, filling her. 

"That's it, darling," she gasped. "Fuck me ... fuck me like that!" 

He couldn't speak, his mouth was dry and his body shook from the urgency of 
their passion. When they were both spent, he collapsed on the bed next to 
her and cradled her in his arms, whispering his love to her while tears of a 
forgotten happiness and fulfillment streamed shamelessly down her cheeks and 
she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loved this man more than she 
ever had anyone ... except ... the thought ran guiltily through her mind ... 
her own father ... He would be the only one who could ever take her away 
from him ... 

 Chapter 8 

She and Mark were completely in love and she dreaded the time when she would 
have to leave him and go home while he went out on another cruise. 

"I don't want to leave you," she cried. "I can't stand it. For the first 
time I'm truly happy!" 

He tried to comfort her and told her that he had to make one more crossing, 
then he would be free to come and get her. 

So many things built up inside her and she wanted to tell him everything, 
explain why she couldn't take another disappointment, why she couldn't bear 
to lose him. 

"Don't worry, darling," he told her, "I'll come for you." 

It was obvious to everyone around them on the ship that they belonged 
together, and they were envied. Jennifer felt alive and young for the first 
time in her life as she experienced the glow of her first real love. Up to 
this time she had used her love as a means to an end, to further her career 
and it had ended in only heartbreak and degradation. This time she was sure 
that she had made the right choice, and she couldn't let it slip away from 
her. 

There was nothing she wouldn't do to keep Mark from finding out about her 
past sordid experiences, because she knew that she would lose him if he 
discovered she had let herself be subjected to the many indecencies and 
humiliating situations that had gained her her fame. 

On the last morning when the ship was supposed to dock in San Francisco, she 
went to him and promised that she would get her divorce as quickly as 
possible and wait for him at home. He held her close and kissed her, 
swearing that he would see her again just as soon as he got back from the 
next cruise. 

"Don't ever leave me," she begged him, "I couldn't take it. It took me so 
long to find you." 

"I'm not that easy to get rid of," he laughed, trying to make her feel 
better. 

They stood on the deck of the ship as it pulled under the Golden Gate Bridge 
and they could see the pier just ahead of them. The fog was rolling in off 
the bay cutting the sunlight and they stood very close, their arms wrapped 
around each other. 

She prayed silently that this would be her new beginning, that she and Mark 
could make a good life together. She never wanted to see Hollywood again, 
never wanted to see the same phony people that she had once thought so 
important in her life, nothing mattered now except Mark and the happiness 
she knew they could find together. 

The pier was crowded with people waiting to greet their loved ones who were 
returning from Europe and her eyes scanned the happy, expectant faces. She 
couldn't wait until the next time when she would be standing down there 
waiting to greet Mark. It didn't seem fair that she had to leave hire so 
soon after finding him, but as she watched the people waving to those on 
board, she heard someone call her name. 

"Who's that?" Mark asked, pointing to a man who was shouting and waving from 
the pier. 

Jennifer shaded her eyes to see the man Mark had spotted. Her heart hit her 
stomach as she recognized Mel Duncan! 

"God ... NO," she screamed. "It can't be." 

"Who is he, darling," he asked again, steadying her as her knees buckled 
beneath her. 

"An old agent of mine," she replied softly. "No one you'd want to know!" 

"I don't like to see you so upset," he told her. "Do you want me to walk to 
the pier with you?" 

"No, darling," she said, forcing a smile. "I can take care of it. He means 
nothing to me anymore." 

As she looked into Mark's strong face, she felt his strength help her and 
she knew that she could handle it, that she could handle anything now that 
she had him. No one or nothing was going to stand in the way of her 
happiness with Mark, nothing from the past would ever touch him. 

He kissed her tenderly and watched her walk away from the ship, knowing that 
he would miss her, but that they would be together again. 

"Good morning, Mel," she said cooly. "I didn't expect to see you again so 
soon." 

"No, I don't suppose you did. You don't seem glad to see me." he grinned 
confidently. 

"What do you want with me, haven't you done enough to me, aren't you 
satisfied?" 

"You've got the wrong idea, sweetheart," he said meekly. "I've come to ask 
you a favor." 

"Why should I do you a favor?" 

"Well," he continued, walking alongside her. "It seems that the authorities 
have gotten wind of my extra-curricular filming and they are going to 
prosecute if they can get people to testify." 

"Dandy," she said, wondering if they had seen his last venture. 

"They have the film I just made and so I'm sure they will be contacting you 
to testify against me. 

"God, no," she mumbled. She could just imagine the scandal, everyone would 
know about it, her parents, Mark! 

"If you don't testify, I've arranged for another girl in Paris to say that 
she was the girl in the pictures. Believe it or not, -she looks remarkably 
like you, and she can't be extradicted to testify. Will you go along with 
it?" 

Jennifer looked at him and smiled. "May I have that in writing in case you 
change your mind," she asked quietly. 

"Anything ... anything, and thank you." 

He seemed so pathetic at that moment, so _ worried and so small. 

He had already prepared a statement which he handed to Jennifer and reached 
out to take her hand. 

"I hope that you've learned something," she told him, all of a sudden 
feeling much lighter and much wiser, and very, very lucky. 

"No lectures, please. Believe me, Jennifer, L am sorry." 

"Sure you are," she laughed. "Just about as sorry as I am for you!" 

She turned around as he walked away and waved once more to Mark who had been 
watching her from the deck. 

"I love you," she shouted and threw him a kiss, then turned and walked out 
onto the Battery to hail a cab. 

 Chapter 9 

When she left Mr. Duncan standing by the pier she felt relieved for the 
first time in months. The prospect of his blackmailing her had disappeared 
and she was free from his hold. She wished that she had never left home to 
go to Hollywood, never married or gone to Europe, but it was too late for 
regrets, too late to change what had happened. 

She decided that she would stay in a hotel for several days before she went 
home. Her step-mother would not welcome her with open arms and the prospect 
of an argument was not something that she could face at that moment. She was 
relaxing in the back of the taxi when a headline in the newspaper caught her 
eyes, "Carter Rhodes to Be Divorced." Her father! She hadn't heard anything 
about a divorce, but then she had been out of touch with the movie world for 
months. 

"May I see your paper?" she asked the cabbie. 

"Sure, lady." he growled as he avoided hitting another car. 

She scanned the article, searching for some clue as to why they were being 
divorced, when it would take place, and if there were some other woman in 
the picture. She wondered if it could possibly be his "leading lady" with 
whom he had been having an affair for years, and her heart pounded furiously 
in sudden jealousy and anger at the notion. He just couldn't marry her! The 
article was not too specific except to say that he had been on an extended 
tour of Europe making a film and his wife was suing him for mental cruelty 
and possibly desertion. 

"That bitch," she muttered under her breath. 

"That's that, lady?" the cabbie asked. 

"Nothing, I wasn't talking to you," she snapped back at him. 

She could hardly wait to get to the hotel. She had to call her father's 
manager and find out where he was, she had to see him. 

"Oh daddy," she breathed. "Poor daddy!" 

The cab dropped her in front of an inexpensive downtown hotel and the 
doorman took her luggage to the front desk. 

"How long will you be with us, Miss," the desk clerk asked. 

"I'm not sure, maybe just for the night." 

She finished registering and went to leer room. She asked the hotel operator 
to get the agent's office in Hollywood and she waited impatiently as the 
phone rang ten times. 

The secretary finally answered and told her that Carter Rhodes was not in 
town at the moment, but had just returned from Europe and had planned to 
stop in Las Vegas for a short rest. 

"Rest ... I bet," she said after hanging up the receiver. "Well, I guess 
that I'll fly down there and see for myself." 

She called the airport and booked a reservation on the next flight from San 
Francisco, then told the desk that she would not be staying for the night 
and to have a bellboy come get her luggage. 

"Yes, miss," the clerk said coldly, and slammed down the phone. 

She quickly washed her face, checked her makeup, her legs trembling with the 
thought of seeing her father once again. She couldn't forget the night that 
they had spent in Nice, how she had reacted when he had made love to her at 
the party, violently, and without even knowing it was his own daughter! 

She remembered everything, the scent of his cologne, the curve of his 
buttocks, the fierceness with which he had taken her and she felt a chill of 
anticipation and longing race through her body. She wondered if she could 
ever love any other man except her father, and finally admitted to herself 
that this was why she had looked for love in so many places, with so many 
men and yet walked away empty and dissatisfied. She had and always would 
worship her father and no man could ever replace him, not as a father, not 
as a lover! 

A cab was waiting for her when she went outside and she told the driver to 
hurry to the airport. The drive seemed endless even though she had two hours 
before her plane would leave. She couldn't think of anything else except 
being with him again, feeling his arms - around her, feeling him inside her, 
making her complete, a total woman. She rubbed her thighs together, chafing 
her stockings one against the other in a futile effort to quell the burning 
sensation that was tormenting her loins. She felt as though she could have a 
climax just from the thought of his body pressed next to hers, the feel of 
his hard, thick manhood buried deep inside her. She went to the bar at the 
airport and ordered a very dry martini, sipping the bitter taste of the gin 
as it burned her throat. She wanted to be relaxed and casual when she saw 
him. She knew where he would be staying, he always stayed at the same place 
everytime he went to Las Vegas, so she wasn't worried about finding him. She 
didn't know how she would approach him, what she would say, but she knew 
that she would get him to make love to her again ... she had to, or go 
unsatisfied. 

She was quivering with excitement as they announced her plane and she took 
her seat next to a distinguished looking gentleman of about fifty. 

He stared at her in a way that made her feel that he thought he must know 
her, but then she was used to that after all the movies she had done, the 
magazine centerfolds she had adorned and the social pace she had experienced 
while she was still in Hollywood. 

The stewardess took their drink orders as soon as they were airborne and the 
man asked if he could buy her the drink. 

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. "I'll have a martini!" 

"Make that two," he told the stewardess, then turned back to Jennifer. 

"Aren't you Jennifer Rhodes," he asked. 

"Please excuse me for staring at you, but I believe we've met." 

"Why, yes I am," she answered. "Do we know each other?" 

"I'm a friend of your fathers," he told her. "I handle some legal work for 
him, and in fact, I'm flying to meet him now." 

Her heart was racing and she could feel herself blushing and her voice shook 
as she asked him, "Will you be seeing him tonight?" 

"Certainly, I'm to call him when I reach the hotel. Didn't you know he was 
in Vegas?" 

"No," she lied, "I've just returned from Europe and I'm to meet a friend 
there." 

"I'm sure your father will be very surprised and pleased to see you. I guess 
you've heard about his impending divorce." 

"I'd heard the rumor, but then you don't know what to believe anymore. They 
write so much in the columns that isn't true." 

"I suppose so," he replied, "but I'm afraid that this time it's true. Very 
ticklish and nasty business, especially when it involves such a public 
figure like your father." 

"I hope that he isn't too upset by it," she asked. "I never did like my 
step-mother so I really shouldn't say too much." 

"It seems that no one did, I actually feel a little sorry for her." 

"Don't," she told him, "I'm sure daddy will pay her handsomely and she'll 
get over it." 

She wanted to ask if he knew of her father's future plans, but decided to 
wait and not appear too anxious for specific answers. 

"Your father is having a little party tomorrow night, after we finish this 
dirty business, why don't you come and surprise him?" 

"I'd love to," she answered, "but don't tell him that I'll be there. I do 
want it to be a surprise." 

"Oh, certainly, if that's the way you want it, but I was going to ask if I 
might be your escort. I'm not married you know." 

"No, I didn't know," she said sweetly, "and that would be very nice, but 
suppose I meet you there." 

She hadn't dreamed that she could be so lucky, that she would meet someone 
who would get her next to her father without realizing what he was doing. 

"Maybe I could take you to a late dinner this evening, after I see your 
father," he suggested again. 

"Yes ... yes, I'd like that," she told him. "Call my room when you're done. 
I'll be staying in the same hotel, but I've asked them to register me under 
a different name. She told him the name she would be using and he promised 
to call her later that evening. 

They finished their martinis and ordered two more. Her head was already 
light at the thought of seeing her father and the alcohol only made things 
seem to skyrocket. She could hardly wait until the next night and she almost 
pitied this naive, fawning man who was to be her instrument in this mad 
desire to seduce her father once again. 

They shared a cab from the airport to the hotel, and she could feel his eyes 
studying her, watching every move she made, the way she crossed her long, 
slim legs, the way she moved her hands or straightened her skirt. 

You want me, old man, she thought to herself, and she knew that he would try 
for her that night, but that didn't matter as long as he could get her close 
to her father. Maybe she would go to bed with him, maybe she wouldn't, but 
she enjoyed the fact that he did want her and she turned her shoulders just 
enough so that there was a gap in her blouse and he could see the full, 
luscious curve of her breasts as they jutted out firmly from her lace, scant 
brassiere. She smiled at him invitingly and he reached out and squeezed her 
knee affectionately. 

"Yes, you're quite grown up now," he said softly. "Quite a woman." 

She knew that it wouldn't make any difference that he was a friend of her 
father's, all men were basically the same and if they thought they could get 
her in bed, all friendships or cares would be erased. 

The air was hot and close, the heat from the desert penetrating her milk 
white skin so that she felt as though her very insides were on fire. She 
wasn't sure whether she could wait until the next evening to see her father, 
but she had to plan it very carefully so that when he discovered that he was 
making love to his daughter, it would be too late, much too late! It wasn't 
going to be easy, but maybe she could succeed, with the help of his friend! 

She walked quickly through the crowded lobby of the hotel and went directly 
to the room they had told her they would reserve for her when she called. 
The bell captain would bring everything to her room so that she wouldn't 
have to wait and go through the normal procedure of registration. 

She undressed quickly and walked to the bathroom to. draw a cool, refreshing 
bath. The water cooled her skin, but nothing could stop the burning fire 
that was consuming her whole inside. Pretending they were Daddy's, she ran 
her fingers lightly over her soft, firm thighs and the curve of her hips 
until her hands cupped the fullness of her rising and falling breasts. Her 
nipples responded immediately to her touch and sprang erect. She stared down 
at her body as she caressed and fondled every inch of her wet, smooth skin. 
She spread her legs slightly so that the water could massage and lap against 
the juncture of her loins like an intimate kiss. Her knees began to tremble 
involuntarily as her hands moved slowly down to the down covered mound of 
her pubus. She lay back. in the tub as far as she could and closed her eyes 
as her fingers tickled the small pink bud of her clitoris until she could 
feel her own juices begin to build and flow salaciously down between her 
legs. 

"Oooooohhhh," she murmured softly as her fingers teased and worked more 
intently to satisfy the deep, consuming longing that was racking her body. 
Her hips jumped and twitched slightly as her other hand slipped down between 
her lets and gently pulled apart the lips of her throbbing vagina. She could 
feel the swollen, fleshy lips pulse as she inserted one slim finger inside 
her aching cunt. 

"Daddy ... oh daddy," she groaned, the image of her father fixed on her 
retina as she brought herself to the pinacle of her climax. 

She felt no guilt as she fingered herself furiously, purposefully, there was 
nothing else that she could do, she had to calm the jittery, unsatisifed 
tremors of her loins and body. Her body shook convulsively and her knees 
jerked and hit against the side of the tub as she felt her own molten juices 
mix with the cooler water of her bath. 

"Ooooh yes," she murmured, as she trembled and let her passion control her 
whole being as she reached her self-induced climax. 

Her vaginal wall contracted and relaxed, pulsing against the thinness of her 
finger and she wished that she had been filled with the hard, thick meat of 
her father's lust-throbbing cock, but she would have to wait for that, at 
least until the next evening. 

Reluctantly she got out of her bath and rubbed herself briskly with a rough 
terry cloth towel until her skin was pink all over. She looked at her 
lusciotis, voluptuous body in the mirror and smiled back at her own 
reflection. She knew that she had been able to get anything she wanted with 
her body, and now she would have to use it to seduce the only man she had 
ever truly loved ... her father. 

She called room service to have her dinner sent up to her room. She didn't 
want to take the chance of running into her father until she had planned 
exactly what she would do, she couldn't take the risk. She ate a long 
leisurely meal and drank a bottle of chilled, dry white wine in an attempt 
to calm her nerves. She knew that her father's lawyer would be calling 
around eleven and she wanted to be ready, ready to start her plan. She 
ordered a bottle of brandy and some champagne to be sent to her room, 
because when he arrived she wanted to be able to offer him a few drinks so 
that maybe he would forget about taking her out for a drink or a late snack. 
She knew that this wouldn't be too difficult after the way she had seen him 
looking at her, yet she had to make it appear as if the whole thing was his 
idea. 

Her phone rang a few hours later and her father's lawyer said that he was in 
the lobby and would wait for her there. 

"Oh, I just woke up," she lied. "Why don't you come up here for a drink, 
while I get dressed." 

She was wearing the sheerest, sexiest pegnoir set that she had with her and 
her cologne scented the entire room. She put the champagne in the bucket of 
ice and went to the bathroom to check her make-up. 

In a few minutes there was a knock at the door and she went to answer it, 
not bothering to close the long, filmy silk and nylon of her transparent 
robe. 

"Come in," she said softly, standing so that the light from the end table 
would be in hack of her, revealing ever- curve of her full, tempting figure. 
She looked directly into the older man's eyes, watching him devour her 
mentally as he walked nervously into the room. 

"You know," she said casually, "You never did tell me your name." 

He had seated himself on the long, wide couch and was watching every move 
she made, almost afraid to breathe as his blood began to race and become hot 
and he could feel an impatient bulge begin to rise inside his trousers. 

"Damn," he muttered quietly, wishing that she would put on something that 
was not so revealing. He was embarrassed, but yet he couldn't help but be 
fascinated by this young, brazen girl who was flaunting herself at him until 
he thought he would go out of his mind. 

"It's Roger Allen," he said, his voice trembling. "I thought I had told you 
on the plane." 

"No, no you hadn't, but it really doesn't matter, I know it now. Let me pour 
you some champagne. Think I'll have a glass too, I'm always so lazy when I 
first wake up." 

She walked toward him and bent down to pick tip the bottle and held it in 
her hands. As she leaned forward, the neckline of her pegnoir fell open and 
he had a clear view of her ripe, inviting breasts. She humbled with the wire 
that held the cork, then reached out and handed him the bottle, letting her 
cool fingers trace a light pattern over the side of his hard, thick hand. 

"Why don't you do the honors," she smiled at him, and sat down next to him, 
crossing her knees so that her gown slipped up to her lower thighs. 

She could see the color flushing his face and she stared at the hard bulge 
that was straining against the cloth of his trousers. She knew that she had 
him mesmerized and from then on it would be easy. 

He opened the bottle skillfully and poured them each a glass. She leaned 
back so that her head rested on the back of the couch and sipped at the 
bubbly, chilled liquid, and breathed deeply. 

"This is so much more comfortable," she cooed, "and I was afraid that you 
might not call." 

There was no mistaking the open invitation in her voice and the older man 
put his glass down on the coffee table alongside him and slipped his hand 
around in back of the couch and massaged the nape of her neck gently. 

"What are you trying to do to an old man like me," he said, trying to keep 
his voice light, but it was thick and trembling. 

"Oh, that feels good," she murmured and leaned further towards him. 

He watched her breasts as she breathed, watched them jiggle slightly, 
sticking against the sheerness of her gown, her nipples clearly visible 
through the thin material. Jennifer took another sip of her drink, but she 
wasn't prepared for the roughness with which he suddenly pulled her 
greedily, lustfully toward him. 

Her glass went spilling to the floor as his hands grabbed at the full, round 
globes of her breasts, tearing the gown from over her shoulders as his mouth 
crushed down on hers. 

"Oh baby," he gasped, pulling her down on the couch so that the roughness of 
his suit pricked her skin through her pegnoir. His lips were hard and 
demanding, and she tried to push him away, tell him that he needn't be so 
rough, that she was willing, but there was no stopping the animal urgency 
that she had teased him into. His hands pinioned her shoulders as his face 
and mouth covered the hardened, full nipples of her breasts and he sucked 
harshly on them. 

He reached down and yanked at the flimsy tie of her gown, pulling it 
demandingly apart and forcing her pegnoir away from her body, tearing at the 
material. His hands ran over her entire body, over the small of her back 
down to her buttocks, letting his fingers revel on the firm skin, his loins 
tingling, his whole body trembling and shaking at the feel of her nakedness, 
so soft, so resilient. 

"Oooooohhh," she gasped as his mouth bit at leer breasts once more, and her 
eyes opened slightly so that she could watch the lust-filled man stick 
voraciously on her ripe, jellied globes. 

She wanted to make him beg, punish him for his cruel greediness, but his 
passion was so great that she found herself responding almost unconsciously 
to his hard and relentless caresses. 

The hardness in his trousers was becoming too heavy and great for him to 
wait any longer, so as he held her with one hand, he unfastened the hooks on 
his fly and wriggled like a madman to get out of his confining pants. She 
smiled to herself as she watched this lustful man hurrying to sample every 
inch of her body. He kicked off his trousers and shorts with his feet and 
then flopped down heavily on top of her. 

"You little cock-tease," he groaned, "I'll show you that you can't get away 
with flashing that slutty little body around even if Daddy is a big man!" 

He held her body in a vice-like grip as she felt the pulsing hardness of his 
cock jerk against her soft inner thighs. 

"No ... no ... not yet," she murmured, trying to calm his urgency. "Wait ... 
wait!" 

He hesitated for a moment, then lowered himself down further on her body, 
his moist tongue licking the soft flesh of her stomach and the slight bulge 
of her thighs. His hands pulled on her knees until they fell apart loosely 
and he could bury his head in the warm dampness between her open legs. 

"What a hot little bitch you are," he groaned, as his tongue found her warm 
vaginal lips and licked between them, his hands tightening their grip on her 
waist and buttocks. 

She slipped forward on the couch, moaning and twisting as his tongue slipped 
inside her. Her cunt seemed to have flowered open to him like a soft, fleshy 
petal and she could feel her own passion rise to meet his own as he licked 
and sucked furiously between her open legs. She smelled of perfumed soap and 
cologne, the soft skin of her thighs which were clasped on either side of 
his face, were soft and sweet-smelling. 

"Ooooo," she groaned, wishing that he would take her, fill her with his 
hard, throbbing prick and ease the tension and desire that was tormenting 
her body. 

She pulled gently at his shoulders and head, trying to force him up onto 
her, but he seemed to be oblivious to her pleadings and he bit and sucked, 
flicking his tongue over the erect meat of her clitoris. 

"God," she gasped. "Don't make me cum yet . not yet," but she knew that she 
wouldn't be able to last much longer against his insistent mouthing. 

He clasped her firm, youthful body that was now full of passion and want, 
his hands grasping and groping over her nakedness as she moaned and quivered 
beneath him. 

She was trying to control her passion as his caresses became more insistent 
and violent, but as his tongue delved deep into her open, moist cunt once 
again, she could feel the tumultuous wave of her climax begin to shudder her 
body. 

"Yes ... yes ..." she screamed and she grasped his head firmly between her 
thighs and held him there as she raised her hips in her orgasm. 

He sucked her wet, sweet-scented juices until she collapsed back onto the 
couch, then quickly pulled himself up onto her and she could feel the hot, 
pulsing of his rod as it angled between her trembling legs. 

"This is what you want, baby," he gasped, forcing himself against her 
vaginal lips roughly. "I'm going to fuck you like the little prick-tease you 
are!" 

"Oooooohhhhhh, aaaagggggghhlih," she whimpered, her body already satisfied. 

Her naked form quivered under him as his belly brushed against hers and she 
could feel the length of his thick, hard cock slip cruelly into her. 

"God ... god," she groaned, as he worked up and down on her hurting her, 
punishing her for teasing him. 

"That's it, baby," he gasped. "Come on!" 

Her energy was nearly sapped as he pounded harder and deeper into her tight 
channel. He felt a chill course down his spine at the thought of what he was 
doing to this beautiful girl and he gave an extra hard thrust which seared 
into her and brought forth a throat-rasping moan, "Aaaaagggghhhh!" Her 
insides ached and throbbed from his pummeling of her vagina and she wondered 
if this had been her best plan. She had to make him want her and she had 
succeeded, but she wasn't fully prepared for his harsh, demanding treatment. 

Her legs were wide on either side of his impaling and she closed her eyes 
tightly, grit her teeth as her neck and throat strained to keep the groans 
of pain and hurt inside. 

Her father's friend was aware of no part of his body except for his huge, 
hard phallus that was burying itself inside the young voluptuous girl. He 
reached up and grasped her breasts and squeezed them like ripe melons as he 
quickened the rate of his thrusts inside her. He felt his passion reaching a 
highly defined pinpoint of sensation that was reaching the very knob of his 
prick and swelling through his whole organ. 

He gripped her buttocks and pulled them wide apart so that his fingers could 
feel the tiny aperture of her anus and he dug severely, pulling her up 
towards him as he worked and worked to that culminating point. 

"Oh ... aaagggggggghhhh," he grunted as he ground into her, burying himself 
into the very deepest part of her cunt as he felt himself begin to cum. He 
spread her thighs further apart so that she thought she would split as he 
applied all the pressure he could between her legs as his hot, sticky fluid 
spurt into her, filling her, punishing her for her lewd and lascivious 
teasing of his aging body. 

"Uuiumugggghh," she gasped as she felt his prick swell even fuller just 
before she felt his hot sperm empty into her and she was relieved that it 
was over. She had cum too soon and the rest had been torture, 'but slowly 
she felt her body begin to relax and she gasped for her breath as he pulled 
his wet, glistening cock out of her. 

"Baby... baby," he moaned against her breast, "God, what a hot bitch you 
are!" 

She- smiled down at him and she knew that it would not be difficult for her 
to set him up for the next night. She reached down for her gown and robe and 
threw them loosely around her body as he struggled back into his trousers. 

"I'd heard some stories about you," he told her, "But I never thought I'd be 
so lucky as to experience such an anxious, beautiful girl!" 

"I liked you," she said simply, as if she fucked everyone she liked. 

"I like you, too," he told her, "and I'm sure some of my friends will like 
you." 

"We'll see," she said lightly, and smiled as she poured them another glass 
of champagne. 

 Chapter 10 

Before he left her that evening, she made stirs that he would pick her up 
for her father's party early the next night. 

"I want to have some time alone with you before he gets there," she told him 
sweetly. 

"Baby, you can have all the time you like, and I'll introduce you to some of 
my other friends. I know they'll want to meet you." 

He laughed and she knew exactly what he had in mind, but this was how she 
had wanted it. She almost laughed out loud as he closed the door behind him 
and threw her a kiss. 

The next night she dressed carefully, making sure that the dress she would 
wear was one that she could get into and out of easily. Her heart was 
pounding at the prospect of having her father again, and by the time he was 
in bed with her, it would be too late. 

Roger picked her up over an hour early and took her to the suite that had 
been rented for the party. Several other men were already there and a few 
chorus girls had stopped by for a drink before they had to go on stage. He 
introduced her to everyone, giving sly, but obvious winks to several of the 
men. She had already had a few drinks before leaving her room, so she was 
feeling very light and gay. The party atmosphere made her brazen and the 
thought of her father was almost more than she could bear. There were 
several bedrooms off from the living room and she excused herself to find 
the most secluded one and told Roger that she would be back in a minute. 

She had been gone about fifteen minutes when he came looking for her. She 
was sitting on the edge of the bed, a drink in her hand, her shoes off and 
she was humming. 

"What's the matter, baby, didn't you have enough last night? Maybe you'd 
like to give a special friend of mine a go before things really get 
started." 

She didn't answer him, but merely smiled, that being enough of an answer. 

"I'm jealous, but I guess I have to share the wealth, besides this is a 
client that can do me some good, and he'll take real good care of you." 

When he left the room, she slid out of her dress so that she would greet her 
new lover in just her black lace brassiere, black bikini panties and her 
stockings. She turned down the lights so that just a stream of light 
illuminated the room from the bath, and she began to dance in time to the 
music that was drifting in from the other room. 

"Oh daddy ... daddy," she crooned, "Tonight y'11 make me whole again." 

She knew her father well enough to know that if he heard there was a hot 
little number stashed away in the bedroom that eventually he would have to 
check it out and she would have him all to herself. She would have to wait 
until he had had enough to drink so that he wouldn't look too closely at her 
face in the darkness. She had changed her hair-do and make-up and in the 
darkened room, she was certain that she could fool him long enough until it 
was too late to stop. 

Roger's friend appeared at the door in a few minutes, carrying a bottle of 
cognac in one hand, and removing his jacket with the other. 

"A little anxious, aren't you?" she asked coyly, parading in front of him in 
her sensual lingerie. 

"You know why I'm here, baby," he said, "so let's not play games." 

He took a long gulp of the brandy directly from the bottle and handed it to 
her and she put it to her lips. The alcohol burned her throat, but it made 
her feel warm inside and absolutely invulnerable to anyone except her 
father. He disrobed quickly, his long, fat prick already standing out 
straight from his hairy belly as he reached for her and unfastened her 
brassiere. She let him manipulate her like a puppet, neither fighting nor 
acquiescing. He was just a means to her end and something that had to be. 

He made violent, harsh love to her, biting her breasts, probing with his fat 
fingers between her legs, and finally taking her with the lust of a maniac. 
He swore at her, humiliated her, as he thrust his hard prick deep into her 
dry, chafed cunt, but she just lay back and let him work out his own 
passion, saving herself for the moment when her father would take her. He 
came quickly and left her saying, "You want more, there are others, you 
know." 

She turned in the bed and said nothing, she just waited, knowing that 
eventually her father would be back. 

The man dressed quickly and returned to the rest of the party. The music was 
soft and she could hear most of the conversation, mingled in with the 
raucous laughs of the men as they talked about her. She was just lighting a 
cigarette- and relaxing when she heard someone say, "Carter, it's about 
time. You're late for your own party!" 

Her heart seemed to stop, it wouldn't be long now, she knew it. Her father 
was already drunk, she could hear his slurred talking as he greeted his many 
guests. She had made Roger promise that he wouldn't tell him she was there 
and she was certain that he wouldn't because her father would kill him if he 
knew what he had done to her, and that he had turned her over to a few of 
his friends. He would be too embarrassed and mortified if Carter ever found 
out, so she waited patiently. 

Several other men came in and out of the room, but she pretended she was 
asleep, until she heard stumbling footsteps coming down the hall. She opened 
her eyes slightly as she saw the door open and a handsome man outlined 
against the light. He walked directly into the room and headed for- the 
bathroom, not seeming to notice she was lyig on the bed. 

"Damn," he cursed, tripping over a piece of her lingerie. 

It was her FATHER! 

She waited until he had finished in the bathroom and she turned her back to 
the door so that he couldn't see her face, but as he came out, she groaned 
softly. She heard him stop and turn. 

"Oooohhh," she moaned, "Please!" 

"I thought they were kidding when they said they had a broad locked up back 
here. You ready for more, sweetheart?" he laughed. 

"If you're man enough," she challenged, disguising her voice with a phony 
accent. 

"Well, you'll see," he answered, as she heard the buckle of his belt hit the 
floor as he dropped his trousers. 

She stirred restlessly in her bed, her passion building to a fever pitch in 
anticipation of her father's body pressed next to hers. Her hands cupped her 
breasts so that her-nipples would be erect, and her fingers played 
carelessly between her legs. She wished that he would hurry, that he would 
mount her immediately and take her, because she had been so ready for him 
for the past two days ... no ... ready for this for all the past years' of 
her childhood ... 

She heard one piece of clothing after the other fall on the floor and she 
still had her back turned as he pulled down the covers of the bed and 
crawled in alongside of her. 

Her body was trembling as he reached out and put his arms around her tiny 
waist and pulled her towards him. She could smell the liquor on his breath 
as he kissed her shoulders and pressed his strong, hairy legs into the backs 
of her thighs. His hands reached up for her breasts and he breathed heavily, 
feeling the soft globes and the weight of their fullness in his hands. 

"What a body, sweetheart," he groaned, his massive prick jerking between the 
cheeks of her buttocks. "What a fortune," he murmured. "Let me show you how 
I appreciate it." 

"Please," she gasped. "Please!" 

She moved backwards towards him, keeping her face turned away, mouthing 
little cries, her eyes closed, her body in a fluid torment. 

Kissing her, he felt her hand reach down between his legs and touch the male 
hardness of his prick as he pressed against her. She held the spongy tissue 
so roughly that he gasped from the pressure. 

"Easy, baby," he groaned, "there's enough there for you. I've got the 
hardest cock in the world for you. Just take your time!" 

She was afraid to say too much for fear that he would recognize her voice if 
she slipped, so she just wriggled against him and moaned, dying for the feel 
of him inside her. His lips and teeth bit and sucked on her flesh and she 
turned over on her stomach so that he was forced on top of her from the 
rear. 

His fingers quickly worked down her body, massaging and probing the soft 
firmness of her flesh until he could feel the hair covered mound of her 
pubus, and his fingers went quickly between her legs, pulling them apart so 
that he could find the soft, hairlined slit of, her vagina. 

She was already moist from the heat of her passion and lust and his long, 
thick middle finger slipped easily into her channel. 

"Oh God ... God ... !" she stammered, "Fuck me ... fuck me now!" 

He had never seen a woman so anxious, so impatient for his cock, but he 
wasn't sure how long he could last, the alcohol had taken it's affect. She 
squirmed under him and moaned and wiggled helplessly as his fingers twitched 
and worked furiously inside her. 

His rigid member was pressed against her firm, white buttocks, jerking into 
the soft, luscious orbs, but he didn't want her that way, he wanted to bury 
his hard, thick rod deep into her wet, demanding cunt. He wanted to fuck her 
so hard that she would scream for him to stop. He felt as though all his 
strength was going into his pulsing cock and his hands fastened securely on 
her thighs and raised her hips off the bed. He hair hung down over her face 
and her hands and nails were digging into the pillows of the bed as she 
waited for his total impalement. 

"Back onto me," he ordered her, and she moved her buttocks up further so 
that he could angle himself down into her with ease. His fingers were 
playing cruelly with her clitoris until she thought that she would die, but 
then she felt his massive rod of hardened flesh ease toward her wet. 
cherished opening. 

"Hurry, hurry," she pleaded as she groaned and murmured incoherently. She 
wriggled backwards and slumped down on his ready and eager prick. Her vagina 
clamped around his penis so tightly that she thought that she would faint 
from the pure; sensual pleasure of feeling him inside her. He grit his teeth 
with passion as her body began to sway back and forth on him with total 
abandon. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh ..." she groaned, as if she were in agony. 

He thrust his long finger of rigidity up and up, further and deeper into her 
moist, clinging channel and her hands clawed~desperately at the bed until 
she thought that she couldn't stand it anymore. 

"At last ... at last," chanted through her mind, "Daddy's fucking me like a 
woman ... like his woman ...!" 

The pressure of his body against hers almost collapsed her into the mattress 
of the bed, but instead she let her head fall and she reached behind her to 
feel the weight of his soft, hairy balls as they slapped against her 
buttocks as he fucked deeper and deeper into her. 

He felt the raw, smooth flesh of her vagina holding him in, pulling and 
holding all around his hot, bursting prick. He pushed into her with all the 
strength from his hips and knees, salvaging strength from the tips of his 
toes so that he could have this girl completely. 

"Oh yes ... yes," she gasped, as he squirmed up into her tightly clenching 
little pussy with renewed passion. 

His penis- seemed to be on fire, and he won dered what this passionate, 
eager girl looked like. Her body was ready for him, he had never had a woman 
so ready and abandoned before and it was heaven. His hands cupped her 
breasts and pulled viciously at her hardened nipples until she had to stifle 
a loud scream. 

"I want to fuck you proper ..." he gasped, "Turn over, let me fuck you that 
way!" 

She didn't want to face him just yet, afraid that he would discover who she 
was, but her body was about to explode in her own climax and she didn't want 
it to end, she never wanted it to end. 

He pulled and poked at her in an effort to turn her over. He didn't want to 
lose her for a moment, his cock was too hard and too hot to lose her even 
for a second. 

His prick was aflame, consumed with a fierce burning and he gasped and 
quivered as he fucked deeper and deeper into her, delighting in the flesh of 
this beautiful girl, whose face he had never seen. 

With a wild jerk he threw her on the bed, flattening her body with his 
weight and pulling at her shoulders and arms, turning her to face him so 
that he could feel the hardness of her pelvis, the softness of her thighs as 
he pummelled into her for his climax. 

"Come on baby," he crooned, "Come to daddy!" 

"Yes daddy ... oh yes, DADDY!" she choked as she turned over, her hair 
falling away from her face and she looked up tearfully into his eyes, jest 
as he gasped and the first warm spurt of his sperm shot deep into her wildly 
quivering belly and her soft, fleshy cuntal muscles clenched greedily around 
it, vowing never to lose him again, never ... never ... as too late, much 
too late, he groaned out his passion and recognition above her ... 


The End
