Marilyn's Dog
by Lawson Collins 


FOREWORD 

It is a sad, and yet embarrassingly true fact, that despite the 
technological advances of our society, despite the new levels achieved in 
education and modern personal freedom, there are still great numbers of our 
fellow citizens who have not escaped the twisting fetters of a medieval 
concept of morality and sexuality. As a nation, and as individuals, we 
sometimes pride ourselves on what we call a "new freedom", or a "new 
sexuality", and fail to realize that what is for most of us a paradise of 
individual choice, unhindered by traditional and worn-out taboos, is to a 
great many people simply another link in the chains that secure them to 
their inhibited concepts of right and wrong. 

Lawson Collins, in his brilliant new work, Marilyn's Dog, examines with 
great care and, we believe, sincere compassion, the plight of one particular 
example of this inability to shed an outmoded sexual consciousness. With the 
vision and acumen of a true artist, Mr. Collins gives us the tender and 
intriguing portrait of Lisa Andrews, a young woman whose sensual and natural 
instincts come into violent conflict with the dictates of her moral 
conscience. She is the representation of countless women in our society 
today, women who have had, or will have, the traumatic experiences of rape, 
divorce, seduction, and perversion enter their lives with terrifying 
intensity. Hers is the story of how one woman, in order to rise above the 
limitations of a misguided concept of human sexuality, must first drag 
herself through the swamps of physical and mental degradation. 

And yet, Marilyn's Dog is not simply an examination of one desperate and 
heroic individual. It is the picture of an age, a mirror held up to 
contemporary society. It is the sometimes brutal, sometimes perverse 
reflection of some of the more sordid sides of our lives, and the 
individuals who we all know exist in our lives. True, Mr. Collins' concern 
is with the blacker side of our society, but he cannot be faulted for that. 
For while his study is of necessity limited, it is not inaccurate: We invite 
you to judge for yourself whether or not the characters in this fascinating 
narrative are as real and vibrant as we believe. 

The obese Kurt Mertz, the strangely alluring Marilyn Drew and her constant 
canine companion, the schemingly seductive Cortlands, husband and wife: 
These are all true-to-life characters which, we are confident, will long 
live in your memory. They are more than the setting in which Lisa Andrews 
acts out her desperate struggle for a new maturity. They are warnings for us 
all: Sometimes deceptively charming, always capable of the worse kind of 
mental torture they are the stuff of which nightmares are made. 

We are confident that you will be as impressed by this profound and exciting 
novel as we are. It is without exaggeration that we say that Mr. Collins' 
new work is worthy of the closest study and thought. It is a heart-rending 
and yet heart-warming testament to one person's tenacity. It is, or should 
become, one of the classics of modern adult fiction. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

Lisa Andrews woke up slowly, her consciousness only reluctantly leaving the 
realm of dreams to face another hot New York summer morning. With an 
enticing feline stretch, she reached out reflexively to the other side of 
the double bed, and then opened her eyes with a start. Quickly she swung her 
legs off the bed, and then let her head drop slowly in resignation. 

When would she stop doing that, she asked herself miserably: Reaching out 
for a man who was no longer there? Mark had been gone eighteen months, and 
still she was continually reaching for him in her sleep, dreaming about him, 
awakening with his name on her lips. She couldn't stop wondering where he 
was, whether he was all right; and yes, whether he'd found another girl to 
take her place. 

We've been separated ... divorced ... almost two years. Good Lord, is it 
possible? Lisa thought to herself unhappily. 

The lovely young girl rose from her bed naked, her long blonde hair an 
entangled mess from her night of fitful rolling and tossing. She crossed the 
room to her vanity, her perfectly rounded buttocks quivering slightly with 
the movement, and ran a brush through her silken honey-colored tresses. The 
raising of her arms lifted her proudly up-thrust breasts to a regal state, 
their rose-tipped nipples distending sensitively as she watched in the 
mirror before her. Strange, she meditated, how the mere thought of Mark 
could arouse her this way, yet when they had been together she had 
invariably frozen up. 

Subconsciously, she noted her slender waist and the way it flared into 
roundly attractive hips. Her shape pleased her. Her stomach was flat and 
smooth as it should be, and her thighs were long and satiny, her calves 
tapering admirably into thin and well-formed ankles. There was nothing 
fraudulent about her body, she thought proudly: No pads necessary, no 
defacing blemishes, and the soft golden down that sparsely covered her 
vaginal mound denoted her natural complexion. The term "divorcee" did not 
fit her, she thought bitterly. 

She picked up her robe, slipping into it, then looked again into the mirror. 
Her eyes were swollen and puffy from her sleepless night, and she poked at 
the little bags beneath them irritably with a long slender finger. 

I ... I wonder if he ever thinks of me, Lisa thought to herself sadly, and 
then immediately reproached herself for thinking again of her husband. There 
was no use doing that, she told herself for the millionth time, it was just 
a kind of self-torment to continue thinking about the past, about what used 
to be and could never be again. 

She tossed down her brush and went to the bedroom window to greet a 
typically hot and smoggy New York summer's morning. It was 6:30; she'd hoped 
she might get some writing accomplished, if only a page or so, before the 
temperature reached the unbearable point in the little apartment, but she 
was in such a hellish, downcast mood. The stupid manager hadn't repaired her 
air-conditioning unit as yet, and she doubted that it would be done today. 
She sighed in resignation. It was going to be a miserable day. 

Turning from the window, Lisa made her way through the living room to her 
small kitchenette, vowing as she always did at that time of the morning to 
find another place that was something less of a dump. She'd moved into her 
present apartment immediately after she'd been divorced, and had just not 
gotten either the strength or the funds together since then to move. As for 
finances, she just barely managed to eke out a living on the meager proceeds 
she received from writing an occasional magazine article or grant 
prospectus, in between work on her first novel. This, combined with the 
scanty alimony check she received from Mark each month, was just barely 
enough to sustain her, much less to enable her to move into another place. 
And as for strength: To move even four blocks in New York City required not 
only diligent planning, but the courage and stamina of a thoroughbred. These 
days, Lisa had neither. 

She spooned some dehydrated coffee powder into a cup and drew hot water from 
the tap. Why hadn't Kurt Mertz contacted her? She had given him her 
manuscript over a week ago, and he was to call and give her his evaluation 
the moment he finished reading it. He'd seemed more than just a little 
anxious to be of service, but, of course, his enthusiasm hadn't fooled her. 
She had felt his little fish eyes raking her lushly ripened body up and 
down, had almost sensed his fat, sweaty hands touching her cringing flesh a 
half dozen times when they had ridden up on the elevator together. But that 
was before she had learned he was a literary agent and had gotten up the 
courage to approach him. 

"Why, I had no idea you wrote, Miss Andrews," he had said, drenching her in 
his jowly grin and wiping perspiration from his nakedly fringed pate. 
"Imagine that, a writer and an agent living in the same building..." 

Some phenomenon, Lisa mused, dropping into a living room chair, her robe 
falling partially open to reveal the tanned golden flesh of one smoothly 
rounded thigh. All the same, she hadn't told him of the half-dozen 
rejections her novel had brought her so far, only of her scant, now-and-then 
magazine credits, implying that she made her living at it. Well, she hadn't 
really lied about that; it was her only earned income, even though she 
always had her teaching credential that she could rely on. Her ambition as 
far back as she could remember had been to write, and teaching had never 
been more than something to fall back on, in case the need should ever 
arise. So far it hadn't, but there had been many discouraging days after 
Mark had gone and before she'd reconciled herself to the divorce. Now she 
was determined, by hook or by crook, and she was beginning to believe that 
one more often made it by "crook" rather than ability. 

How many times had Mark said, It isn't what you know, honey, it's who you 
know. 

Dammit, there she went again. Mark, Mark, Mark! He haunted her sleep and 
tortured her when she was awake. Her brain reeked with his memory! Damn him 
to hell, anyway! She bolted to her feet and went to the cupboard for a 
half-emptied bottle of bourbon. She was going to need something this day and 
there was no question about that. She spiked her coffee stiffly, watching 
through watery eyes, then drank half of it, feeling it burn all the way down 
into her belly. She went back to her chair and fell into it, wiping at her 
eyes as small tears formed in the corners. 

She could curse him all she liked, she thought, biting at her perpetually 
pouting lower lip, but it hadn't been all his fault had it? Lisa knew that 
if it hadn't been for her insane frigidity, they would be together at this 
moment! 

The young divorcee tried to open her mind, tried to admit to herself as she 
so often did, that the break-up of their marriage had rested in large part 
with her, and with her own sexual inadequacies. As she sat gripping her 
coffee and bourbon, Lisa forced herself to look back once again, to gaze 
back objectively on the first memories of her relationship with the handsome 
Mark Andrews. 

She could still picture those balmy summer nights when they'd first gone 
together how for two whole years she'd teased and taunted him with her 
sensually alluring body, wanting him as badly as he did her, leading him on 
to that near impossible stopping point, until he would be almost out of his 
mind with desire. And then, her morals would gurgle up into her throat, the 
molten transmutation of a too strict upbringing, and in horrified repugnance 
she would fend him off. And only because he'd loved her and respected her, 
had he reluctantly given in. 

Oh God, it was inevitable! The young blonde girl realized that now, and had 
for a long time. It was following a dance and they'd both had too much to 
drink. Graduation was only a month away and they planned to be married the 
week after. Already, Mark had a place in a small office of investment 
brokers who were handling some fairly big accounts. It was a magnificent 
start for him, and Lisa would be able to write. They'd both been so happy; 
had thought or talked of nothing else but their life together and the home 
they were going to design and build. Lisa smiled softly to herself as she 
remembered. 

That night they had gone to their usual secluded parking place, climbing 
into the back seat where there was more room for their limited nature of 
love-games. They'd never gone all the way, but with each passing night it 
became more difficult for her to control him, especially with her own 
passion and need just about driving her wild. Things had been getting 
further out of hand at every session, and probably if it hadn't been for her 
over scrupulous determination to bring her virginity to their marriage bed 
she would've long before given in to him. Their friends were all physically 
enjoying each other to the fullest, they both knew, and that hadn't helped 
matters. He constantly badgered her with that fact until finally she had 
conceded to the gentle caresses of his hands beneath her blouse, undoing her 
brassiere and handling her naked breasts, kneading and massaging them into a 
vibrantly hard-nippled throbbing, setting her whole love-starved body aflame 
with desire. 

Perhaps it was what they had drunk that night, rather than the amount, or 
maybe it was just inevitable. But suddenly, as he took her left breast into 
his warm eager mouth, his lips encompassing the entire crinkling areola, his 
tongue playing maddeningly about her erectly throbbing nipple, Lisa was so 
out of her mind with the bliss of the moment that his warm hand creeping up 
the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs had seemed a necessary part of her 
mindless rapture. 

"Oh, Mark, darling ... no, no we can't do this, my sweet," she gasped into 
his ear, her fingers running through his hair, pressing his face and 
tantalizingly sucking mouth tight up against her naked breast. She squirmed 
beneath his hot hand caressing her thighs, his fingers moving ever upward 
and over her eagerly quivering belly, then down to stroke the nylon covered 
softness of her moistening pubic mound, until she had actually whimpered 
aloud from the shock and sensation of his nimble fingers slipping inside the 
tight elastic leg band of her panties to insinuate themselves into the wetly 
waiting slit of her virginal little cunt. 

Even now Lisa shivered excitedly as she remembered the unbelievably 
titillating spasms that raced through her from the first galvanic contact of 
his finger with the sensitive flesh of her untouched vagina. The 
never-before feelings of pleasure had rendered her momentarily helpless, and 
she had writhed almost frantically beneath his insistent ministrations. 

"Mark ... Mark ... we mustn't, darling..." she had pleaded, suddenly aware 
that all sense of control was getting away from both of them. 

"Why...? Why...? " he moaned, moving his finger upward between the fleshy 
lips of her hair-lined pussy, tracing through the warm pink flesh to the 
tiny bud of her sensitive clitoris and teasing it into immediate hardness. 

"Oooooohhhhh, God, darling," Lisa moaned, raising his face to her own 
between her hands and locking her lips wetly to his, her tongue darting into 
his mouth even as her quivering thighs separated further in unwitting 
invitation to his hand. 

She hardly heard the metallic whisper of his zipper, was hardly conscious of 
anything but the overwhelming joy-filled transport of the moment, until she 
felt his sudden hot hardness pulsating against the naked flesh of her 
exposed thigh. Even then, there was a blank moment until it registered in 
her fevered brain. His penis! Oh God! He had taken it out of his pants and 
was pressing its heated length against her most secret flesh! He groaned 
into her mouth as his outstretched middle finger slipped down through her 
sparse cuntal hair to probe at the wetly throbbing mouth of her vagina, 
sending further spasms of rippling pleasure coursing through her, 
momentarily anesthetizing her. 

The hot throbbing of his naked penis against her leg jarred her back to 
reality. She arched her neck and began negative movements with her head, 
baring her teeth to him as she moaned an audible, "No ... No ... No ... 
Mark!" 

Suddenly, he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the massively 
pulsing flesh of his cock, holding it there briefly while the first shock of 
its strange feeling to her touch passed. She didn't fight it, but instead, 
found herself squeezing gently, letting her sense of touch convey its 
message to her brain. It was immense! She'd never had any idea of its size, 
and a slight twinge of fear caught at her belly. 

His hand left hers but she continued to cling to the throbbingly erect shaft 
while a gasp of pleasure escaped him. Experimentally, she began to stroke 
him, her fingers barely able to encircle his huge thickness. Slowly, she 
drew the thick outer skin up and down, her breath tight in her throat at her 
own excitement of handling and massaging his beautiful cock while he slipped 
his finger deeper and deeper into her ever-expanding vagina, a complete 
feeling of unprecedented fulfillment creeping over her. 

Again she opened her mouth to his kiss, letting her hand slip down to 
explore the velvety soft hairiness of his heavy balls, caressing and cupping 
them gently by instinct. She was extremely wet now down between her legs 
from the liquid passion his finger was inciting as it played within the 
tingling lips of her hair-lined pussy, stretching the tiny ring of her still 
intact hymen in a gentle rotating motion that had begun to frighten her. She 
didn't want to lose her virginity now ... not this way ... not yet ... but 
the pleasure he was bringing her overshadowed all else and she found herself 
moving her slender hips up against his invading finger, her trembling thighs 
spreading wider as her hand slipped back up to stroke his straining maleness 
with increasing vigor. 

He had begun to grind his teeth and grunt out his pleasure with every 
breath, while her own growing apprehension at the stage things had reached 
struggled against the overpowering intoxication of lust taking command of 
every fiber of her aroused young body. She felt the cool wetness of his 
rock-hard cock smear against the warm flesh of her inner thigh as she worked 
the heavy skin up and down his massively thick shaft, and she wondered if he 
was ejaculating, or whether it was the lubricating fluid she had read about 
in the sex guides to a happy marriage. Oh Lord, he was getting even harder 
and bigger, his pounding cock jerking in her hand as she caressed it 
affectionately, making him grunt again. 

And then he was struggling, moving on top of her! 

"Dammit, Lisa ... I've got to fuck you! I can't wait any longer!" 

"No, Mark ... Oh, no, darling ... we can't! You know we can't ... " she 
gasped back at him, the full realization that it was all out of control 
suddenly hitting her with full impact. She let go of his demanding penis and 
thrust her hands between them, shoving against his chest and clamping her 
thighs tightly together, locking his embedded finger deep in her hotly 
steaming cunt. She tried to squirm her buttocks down into the car seat to 
rid her traitorously hungry vagina of the invading finger even as she held 
it securely inside her with her tightly braced thighs. Her mounting 
consternation of moments before had abruptly transformed into sheer dread. A 
loathsome feeling of repugnance over their dangerous performance caused a 
wave of near-panic to seize hold of her, to the point where she barely knew 
what she was doing, and suddenly she was clawing at him while her resisting 
hips squirmed wildly beneath him, his finger still buried deep up inside her 
clasping vagina. 

"Oh ... Oh, damn you ... damn you, Mark Andrews! Stop! No, no, stop, I tell 
you!" she half-screamed into his face. 

He'd made no verbal response, she well remembered, but the mask of lust 
contorting his handsome features had sent a shock of utter horror surging 
through her. She had tried to reason with him, but suddenly he had jerked 
his hand from between her legs and was forcing her tensed thighs open to 
him, digging his fingers brutally into their tender flesh, his teeth 
clenched, his lips bared back like an attacking animal. 

"Oh God, no ... no, Mark! Please ... please don't!" she'd cried, writhing 
and flailing furiously beneath him, but she'd been no match for his 
lust-crazed strength. 

In her frantic squirming and kicking she had scissored out her legs enough 
for him to slam his hips down heavily between them, and she quickly found 
herself pinned under his weight, her wide-splayed thighs open defenselessly 
to him, her fearfully quivering buttocks secured tightly to the seat. 

"Mark, Mark ... please listen to me! No, you can't do this! Not this way, 
darling ... I beg you!" she whined, half-wailed up at him while her hands 
balled into little fists and hammered futilely against his chest. 

She screamed as he hooked his fingers into the narrow wisp of nylon covering 
her defenseless loins and tore it away with a savagely ripping sound, and 
almost instantly she had felt the hotly swollen head of his huge penis as he 
slid it back and forth between the moist fleshy lips of her cunt. 

God, there had been no fighting him! His knees held hers wide apart and 
moments later the blood-filled head of his throbbing member found the tight 
elastic mouth of her virginal cunt. With one last desperate effort, Lisa 
raised her hips in an attempt to dislodge him, to throw him off her, and as 
she did he had rammed his muscular pelvis forward, sending his pole-like 
cock splitting and tearing furiously up into her fearfully quivering little 
cunt. 

"AAAagggggghhhhhhh!" she had half-grunted, half-screamed, kicking her legs 
out wildly in shocked disbelief at the total agony his fiendish assault sent 
shrieking from the core of her body to her brain. He had ripped her wide 
open, she knew, and the blood must be streaming from her. She had felt the 
thin membrane of her tight hymen give way before the vicious onslaught, and 
she was certain he had torn the tiny opening of her virginal hole. 

Again she squealed, kicking out and was immediately sorry, for it only 
worsened her position. His massive shaft pushed the tender flesh of her 
rubbery vaginal walls in rippling waves of pain before it, digging deeper 
and deeper into the softly warm confines of her secret and treasured cuntal 
channel. 

Lisa wept profusely from the beginning, both in shame and physical anguish 
as he had continued to batter into her, until finally she'd felt his huge 
balls slap solidly against her defenselessly upturned buttocks and his 
pelvis grind against her. Only then did he stop, breathing in heavy rasps. 
His thickly swollen rod of hard flesh was deeply embedded inside her 
fearfully quaking belly, the walls of her abused vagina wrapped so tightly 
around its thickness that she could feel every ridge and wrinkle of the 
terrible instrument of lust. 

Maybe it was then, when she lay impaled in excruciating pain, like some 
ravaged serf out of the dark ages with the raping cudgel of the brutal 
invader spearing into her defenseless vagina, or maybe it had been that 
moment when he had forced himself between her legs and ripped away her 
panties ... or was it the first seconds of racking torment when he had 
thrust into her? Whichever, the metamorphosis of passion to horror had taken 
place: Desire, if and when it came over her after that moment, was to be 
accompanied by fear and dread. 

God, was she really to blame? Even then, she had begged him to stop. He 
hadn't even given her the opportunity to adjust to his sudden presence 
buried so deeply in her womb. He had just begun to fuck, like a madman, his 
mouth slack, his eyes staring unseeingly as he rammed viciously into her 
tight little pussy while she groaned in unceasing torment beneath him, 
mumbling incoherently, her tears bathing her cheeks. Then his hands were 
groping at her ripely full breasts, clutching insanely, her flesh protruding 
painfully in white bloodless ridges between his straining fingers. He had 
chewed at her cherry nipples until the blood trickled from them, and even 
then she had tried, tried, tried to gentle his brutal attack. 

But it was no use. One thought blinded him: To spew his hotly scalding load 
of pent-up sperm deep inside her, to fulfill and release himself, with no 
longer any thought of her. God, she had so wanted to know the ecstasy of 
love in its entirety, but he was fucking her like a slut, not making love to 
her! 

She whined up at him once more, pleading, begging, but her whimpers were in 
vain. Suddenly, he slid his hands beneath her conquered thighs and was 
lifting them. She didn't resist, but even helped as he pushed them up and 
back, locking his arms behind them and forcing her down into the seat 
beneath the rampaging thrusts that were smashing the cruelly spongy head of 
his iron-hard cock against her cervix. She bit her lower lip and held to his 
ribs as he continued to pummel unmercifully into her; the horrible agony had 
passed, and there was a time of indecision gripping at her. She wanted to 
tell him how much she loved him, how close she was to understanding ... but 
then, he sucked in an enormous breath and his pitiless cock slammed into her 
nakedly upturned buttocks with a wild and new fervor. He was going to cum in 
her belly! She could feel it in the sudden tensing and jerking of his 
powerfully muscular body heavy upon her. His breath was hot and coming in 
gasping rushes against her face. She remembered that further panic had 
gripped her because he was using no contraceptive. Supposing she should get 
pregnant? 

She had never really stopped crying, but whether it was more from the 
physical or mental pain, she was not sure. He began to fuck into her with 
fierce inhumanness, his huge shaft of flesh scoring the tenderly sensitive 
walls of her tightly reluctant vagina. He held her knees back to her 
shoulders in a cramped position that completely exposed the upturned plane 
of her helpless loins to his vicious lust. With every stroke, he drew almost 
completely out of her and then plunged forward with demoniacal force. She 
had never felt so ashamed or humiliated in her entire life. It was the end 
for them: There never could be anything between them again ... he hated her 
... she knew it ... she knew it! 

Then, she felt his thick pistoning penis growing bigger and bigger as it dug 
deeper and deeper into her hotly throbbing passage, until suddenly he threw 
back his head, a guttural, racking sound coming from deep in his chest, and 
she felt his rock-hard cock jerk wildly inside her as his white hot sperm 
began to spew from its tip in great spurts. 

"Oh God, no, no, no!" she wailed in helpless submission as she felt the hot 
release gushing wetly in a swirling pool in her debased vagina, filling her 
womb and belly to the almost overflowing point. 

And then it was done ... just like that. Lisa remembered it all too vividly, 
how he had slunk off of her, shamed in the aftermath of his vented lust, 
tears actually streaming down his cheeks begging her to forgive him, vowing 
to make it up to her. What a pathetic sight he had presented ... and God, 
how she loved him. They had wept together, holding tight to one another, 
long into the early hours of morning, pledging and re-pledging their love. 
But sex was never to be the same for her again. 

They had been married soon after: The first day, and night, of six short 
months of sexual fiascos. She had only to see him coming at her with an 
erection to set the cold chills of revulsion creeping along her spine. God 
knows, she tried. She did everything to hide it from him, even pretended at 
orgasm like any good whore, for that was how she felt about herself. She was 
his private and personal whore, well paid for his use of her body. 

Jesus Christ, do I have to keep this torment up all day? 

Abruptly, Lisa got to her feet, went to the kitchenette and made herself a 
second cup of coffee, bracing it with bourbon once more, but lightly this 
time. She was not a drinker, especially at seven o'clock in the morning. It 
was just that she had needed something to bolster her after her sleepless 
night. Again, she found herself wondering where Mark was, if he was well and 
happy. 

Perhaps he had even married again. She had no way of knowing. Her limited 
circle of friends were all comparatively new acquaintances she had made 
since their divorce, none of whom had ever known Mark. She had learned he 
was still in New York from an old college mate, Chick Spellman, accidentally 
bumping into him one day while shopping, and they'd had lunch together. He 
had come across Mark in a bar in Greenwich Village, but he hadn't been able 
to tell her much about him, or perhaps it was just that he hadn't wanted to. 
Well, it didn't make much difference anyway, did it? It was all over and 
done with now. A part of the divorcee's bitter past. 

Oh, she wasn't so bad off, she supposed, if she could only think about it 
intelligently. She had friends, both male and female, and she certainly got 
around enough. Of course, there was always the divorce stigma, with every 
man assured in his mind that she was a certain lay. The fact of the matter 
was that she had slept with no man since Mark, none whatever. Sometimes, the 
desire to be made love to, the sheer, raw, sexual craving of her lush young 
body nearly drove her mad. Yet, she knew that the mere sight of a man 
standing naked before her, or lying against her, his fleshy hard rod 
touching her soft body, would immediately instigate the old rigor mortis. 
She would freeze up like an icicle. 

Well, she had her writing, she thought, plodding slowly back to her chair. 
It had really become her whole life. Success was all she sought now. And her 
book was good; she felt certain of that. The rejections were not indicative 
of its quality. Editors were forced to turn down many good works for 
numerous other reasons. 

Why didn't Kurt Mertz call. He must've read it by this time. Perhaps she 
should call him. Why not? Dammit, that's just what she would do, she decided 
determinedly. She would shower and dress and give him a call at his office 
after nine. 

She rose suddenly and started for the bath. En route, she stuck her tiny 
pink tongue out at her typewriter, then smiled to herself. She was beginning 
to feel better. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad day after all. 

* * * 

Mark Andrews smiled down at the nubile little dark-haired girl grinning up 
at him from his bed, and then laughed as she wrinkled her nose at him with 
intoxicating good humor. 

"Jani, why don't you get up and get dressed?" he said. "It's almost 
nine-thirty." 

The tiny girl stretched out provocatively on the bed, her almost adolescent 
nakedness reminding Mark of a painting by some nineteenth century French 
artist. 

"Oh, that's all right, love. I'm not due up for another two hours. Just put 
on the kettle, won't you? There's a dear." 

Mark laughed again. He could never get enough of this sexy little English 
model, with her old-world mannerisms and cockney figures of speech. Just 
being around her made Mark feel like a character in some English comedy 
movie, and he loved it. Jani was a regular little live-wire, in bed and out, 
and Mark knew he was lucky to have run into her. She was always trying to do 
little things to please him, such as his appointment the next day with Peter 
Cortland, even though they both knew that their relationship was definitely 
temporary. 

Of course, how she had managed to get Peter Cortland to make an appointment 
with him was still quite vague in his mind, but he felt certain she had 
arranged it with that voluptuous little body of hers. Ever since he'd known 
her and they'd been sharing this apartment together she had been trying to 
sleep with the right people, furthering her career bed by bed, and 
successfully so he had to admit. She was a clever chick, cute and lovable 
with sparkling dark eyes and short-cropped jet-black hair, plus a natural 
inborn vivaciousness that was being seen on more and more magazine covers as 
the beds grew plushier. 

Right now she was lying on her back in their bed watching him dress, naked 
and sensuously squirming around to tease him with her usual mischievous 
antics, knowing that he was watching her in the mirror while he knotted his 
tie. He reflected a trace of a smile in the glass but his heart wasn't in 
it. He was thinking about the appointment she'd set up for him with Peter 
Cortland. He'd talked to one or two big spenders before, guys who had so 
much money they didn't know where to put it all, but the results had always 
been the same: negative. All the really big money was already tied up with 
other, bigger investment companies, or else those who had that kind of money 
weren't interested in entrusting it to a young firm with nothing to offer 
but ambition. Mark had gone in with two other young men only six months 
before, but their idealistic venture into free enterprise had been met with 
dubious success at best. In fact, Anderson, Andrews and Miller, Investment 
Brokers, were almost broke. 

"You look like you're going to a bloody funeral," Jani Adams remarked from 
the bed, raising both of her deeply tanned legs ceiling-ward, her feet 
together, then lifting her gently rounding hips onto elbow-braced hands, 
presenting her rounded white buttocks to him as she pumped her legs in a 
bicycle exercise. 

"Afraid I can't get enthused, Jani," Mark said, going to the closet for his 
lightweight summer jacket. "One day at the office is like any other day: 
unprofitable." 

"Nothing good comes easy, ducky ... even me," the English pixie said, 
smiling impishly across the room at him as she continued her nakedly 
provocative calisthenics. Her warm feeling for the handsome, tall young man 
with the thin-lipped mouth and deep brown eyes, was obvious in her every 
glance and gesture toward him. 

Mark grinned back at her as he ran a comb quickly through his long wavy 
black hair. He strode over and looked down at her, watching her firm young 
breasts with their partially distended dark red nipples quiver from the 
pumping movements of her up-thrust lower body. He walked to the foot of the 
bed and caught at her ankles, spreading them apart so that he could look 
down at the dark patch of soft pussy hair covering her lower belly and the 
fleshy lips of her narrow vaginal slit that trailed downward to join the 
split between her succulent ass-cheeks. 

"Like?" she teased, her spritely smile meant to taunt. 

"Didn't you get enough this morning." 

"Do I ever?" 

Mark shook his head, then drew his fingertip tantalizingly through the 
silken hair, tracing the thin line of her insatiable little cunt with the 
faintest of pressure until an obvious shudder rippled the taut muscles of 
her inner thighs and upward across her flat belly. 

"Oooooooh ... you dirty bastard, you," she moaned. "I warn you, cut that out 
or you'll never get out of here alive..." 

Grinning, Mark repeated the torment, causing her to squirm and coo beneath 
him, until suddenly, she jerked her legs free and swung from the bed, 
chasing him to the door. In the hallway, he laughed back at her. 

"You wait 'til you come home," she said, pretending at anger, the door 
cracked so that he could see only one of her pretty eyes and part of her 
smiling, impish mouth. 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Mark laughed as his mistress arched her 
eyebrows at him, smiled, and then shut the door. 

He took the elevator to street level, and then walked the two and a half 
blocks to the subway. He would've taken a cab, but with prices in New York 
and the shaky status of his new company, he had to try to save every penny. 
They needed something like the Cortland account, he thought as he descended 
into the hazy depths of the already steaming subway station. Something like 
that would put Anderson, Andrews and Miller on its feet, and quickly, too. 

Mark smiled again to himself as he picked his way through the remains of 
rush hour traffic, Jani's antics coming to mind. God, she was a hot little 
piece, all right: screw from morning until night, and back around the clock 
without a break. But she meant nothing to him beyond being a playmate and 
solid friend, and she knew it. He'd made it clear from the beginning that 
their teaming up could be only a game, for convenience and pleasure's sake. 
He suspected she was in love with him, but as far as he was concerned there 
could never be anyone but Lisa; he would always love her, goddammit ... as 
long as he lived! 

He sensed a tightness in his throat as memories of her flooded his mind. 
There were never many hours of the day when at least a fleeting thought of 
her didn't pass through his brain. My God, how he had loved her how he still 
loved her. He wondered if she ever thought of him, where she was ... if she 
was happy. 

He had never seen her again after the divorce; he hadn't wanted any 
association or momentos to tear him apart any more than he already was. 

He'd learned to live without her, even though he'd been certain he never 
could; but he would never forgive himself for what he had done to her. His 
horrible raping of her beautifully helpless virginal body had been the 
destructive force that had nearly destroyed her completely, and he knew it! 
She had never been the same after, simply a fear-ridden, lifeless, frozen 
woman from the moment he would touch her Oh, she tried, he knew that: 
pretended excitement with him when it was never there... 

And so he'd divorced her. God, there was little else he could do. He hadn't 
tried to be noble; he owed her that much. She deserved happiness with 
someone, she was so young and vibrant and lovely. God, she might even be 
married again, he thought, and an emptiness seized at his entrails. 

"Well ... that's what you wanted for her, wasn't it?" he said aloud to 
himself. "You ... you stupid, high-principled ass-hole, you!" 

* * * 

Kurt Mertz was somewhere in his early forties, Lisa decided. He was rather 
short, perhaps a couple of inches taller than her five-five, and he was 
overly puffy about the middle, but he dressed with taste and the expensive 
cut of his clothes hid it well. He had the fat man's second, almost third 
chin with small, wet, colorless eyes and a tiny mouth that seemed constantly 
engaged in a rather simpering smile. It was like a dimple in the center of 
his pink cherubic face. This lecherous humpty-dumpy was not exactly the date 
of her choice, Lisa mused, but she was quite thrilled and pleased when he 
told her they were going to the Four Corners. 

Lisa had called the rotund literary agent that morning, and their 
conversation had, from Lisa's point of view, been short and very promising. 

"This is a coincidence," Mertz had said, when she'd told him who was 
calling. "I was just going to call you, Miss Andrews. I've finished your 
novel and I'm quite excited about it." 

"Really? You liked it then?" A tremor of elation had spiraled through Lisa. 
She could easily visualize his pudgy, grinning face. 

"I feel it definitely has merit. There are a few things, of course, but 
nothing major," he said. "I've been trying to get around to calling you, but 
I've been so busy ... Say, why don't you have dinner with me this evening, 
where we can discuss it leisurely?" 

"Well..." Mertz's voice was like syrup, and Lisa hesitated. Then, throwing 
caution to the winds, she said: "All right, I'd like that, Mr. Mertz." 

"Around eight then. I'll call for you?" 

"Very well ... around eight." 

And here she was, at the Four Corners, the most exclusive literary hangout 
in New York. This was where all the great novelists and agents and 
publishers had always congregated, where celebrities and patrons of the arts 
were, strangely enough, as numerous as the tourists and sightseers who came 
to gawk at them. Lisa was incredibly excited when her obese escort pointed 
out first one and then another of the big names in the New York literary 
circles, exchanged nods with some others, and finally introduced her to 
perhaps the most successful agent on the East Coast: Peter Cortland. 

"A pleasure, Miss Andrews," Cortland said, his square face caught in a warm 
smile, his deep gray eyes appraising her in several sweeping up and down 
glances. He was tall and broad, muscular and slightly white at the temples, 
a striking man of obvious confidence and dominating personality, probably in 
his fifties, she thought, as she felt his discerning eyes strip her 
appreciatively. 

Lisa felt like squirming beneath his almost devouring gaze, and diverted her 
own eyes to the much younger, attractively dark-eyed woman with him. The 
woman smiled, intuitively, it seemed to Lisa, as if she understood. She 
said: "Better come along, Peter dear. I think Parker is motioning that he 
has our table." 

"Yes ... yes, of course," replied Cortland, a slight ring of irritation to 
his voice. "Look here, young lady, if Mertz doesn't take good care of you on 
this book of yours, drop around to my office, eh?" 

Lisa smiled. "Thank you ... I'll remember that, Mr. Cortland." 

They went off and Kurt Mertz cleared his throat angrily. "A regular damned 
pirate, that one," he said. "A lusty one, too, I'll tell you that." 

"His wife is just beautiful," Lisa murmured, still watching as the couple 
made their way across the room, nodding and shaking hands with many of the 
other patrons in the restaurant. 

"Yes ... I suppose so, in a strict sort of way," Mertz agreed, leaning an 
elbow onto their table and peering at her through the candlelight. "But 
personally, I prefer blondes with deep hazel eyes." 

Lisa managed a smile. She raised her martini to her lips. 

"You know, you're ravishing with your hair upswept that way, Lisa ... may I 
call you Lisa?" 

"If you like." The young blonde novelist gazed momentarily at a little sheen 
of oiliness that had oozed from the pores of his pug nose, causing it to 
glisten in the flickering light. "About the book, Mr. Mertz..." 

He started to speak just as a tall brunette in flowing white silk appeared, 
the immaculate white collie dog she led moving slowly into the plushly 
wine-carpeted room. Lisa had witnessed spectacular entrances before, but 
this one whipped her breath away. The girl ... the woman, was absolutely 
stunning. She held her head high, almost regally, and her skin was the hue 
of ivory. Her magnificent breasts, in fact her entire body, were 
suggestively visible beneath the gown she wore, and Lisa was certain she 
could detect the black pubic hair covering her hidden vaginal mound. She was 
stunning, absolutely stunning! 

"Marilyn! Darling ... so nice to see you," Mertz said, leaping to his feet 
and going to her. 

"How are you, Mertz? I see you sold another dull book into movie trivia," 
she said, speaking in a husky but soft and controlled voice that inspired an 
envious tremor to move through 

Lisa. 

"I want you to meet someone," the pudgy little man said, his tiny mouth wide 
in a smile. He caught the voluptuous brunette's hand and let her to the 
table. "This is Lisa Andrews, who had just completed a magnificent book, 
Marilyn ... undoubtedly a best seller." 

"Undoubtedly," the sophisticated woman remarked, sweeping her onyx eyes away 
from him and onto Lisa in a rapidly softening warmth. "I'm Marilyn Drew, my 
dear. This is Duke." She drew the animal back and it actually bowed, 
touching its long nose to the floor. "If this beast tries to exploit you, 
I'll be glad to read your work," she said coolly, indicating Mertz with a 
tilt of her head. 

Lisa had not spoken. She felt stupid, as if she had been rendered dumb of a 
sudden. The girl-woman was an apparition, and the vision had bewitched her. 
Lisa gaped as she left them, not even saying good-by to Kurt Mertz. 

"Who ... who is she?" she managed. 

Mertz almost sighed. "A remarkable woman in our world," he said, sitting 
down slowly as he watched her and the animal being led to a secluded table. 
"I know of no one with her influence in publishing. Really, none of us knows 
anything about her, except that she's a remarkable agent ... and woman." 

"Yes, I can see about the woman part." 

Suddenly, Mertz's mind came back to Lisa, his little wet eyes seemingly 
inspired by what they had just engorged themselves upon. 

"You were saying, Mr. Mertz...? " 

"Kurt," he corrected, smiling. Then he grew serious. "Yes ... well now, I 
think we should get right to the meat of this publishing situation, Lisa. No 
use of me stringing you along one way or the other, is there?" 

"I-I'd prefer you didn't," Lisa said. She had experienced a little let-down 
at his words. So, here it comes, she thought, watching him as he carefully 
selected his approach. 

"Frankly, your book is good. As I said on the phone, there are a few things, 
but all minor: a couple of character flaws and a little plot weakness in one 
or two spots, but in general, good, my dear, damned good." 

"Then, you feel you can sell it for me?" 

"Oh, I don't doubt for a minute that I can sell it, once we've ironed out 
those weak points," he said, his small eyes scrutinizing her carefully. "But 
you must remember, my dear, first books are notoriously bad risks for 
publishers, and bring a little remuneration to their authors other than 
satisfaction." He simpered. "I mean, without a name, who wants to read you?" 

Lisa tasted her martini. "Everyone has to start somewhere, Mr. Mertz..." 

"Kurt," he corrected again. 

"Besides ... Kurt ... I don't have to make a fortune from it, nor did I hope 
to . . ; " 

"I don't believe you grasp my full meaning, dear," he said, with a shake of 
his head. Then, he raised his hand, gesturing to their waiter. 

"Two martinis, Henry." Then he returned to her. "Look at it this way. Why 
not a best-seller right off the bat? It could be, you know, with just a 
little work, and no disrespect, darling but with a little professional 
know-how. I mean, first book, best seller ... what follows? Movie rights, of 
course, and from there, fame and fortune. Are you with me?" 

"You've lost me completely." Lisa said, smiling. 

Mertz laughed warmly. "It's a business, Lisa," he said, leaning closer onto 
the table. "A great big fat money business. When and if the publisher buys 
your book he is only concerned with how much money he is going to make from 
it. He has to be! When and if the agent takes you on as a client, he is only 
concerned in your remunerative power. His commission is how he makes his 
living. Look, every day I read first novels, some of them damned good, too, 
but I won't waste my time with them. Why not? I can't afford to waste my 
time for the meager return..." 

Henry brought their drinks. It gave her a moment to think. He was still 
talking in big circles, but slowly centering in toward his point. Lisa ran 
her tongue over the edge of her pretty lower lip. She was convinced that she 
already knew what he was getting to. She lifted her glass and cut deeply 
into its liquid content. The question was, how badly did she want this 
success she had been chasing since God knows when? How bad? Bad enough to do 
things she didn't approve of: distasteful things ... like sex? Yes, she 
thought, looking around her at this pleasing, fulfilling, immediate 
representation of fame and fortune, she wanted it badly enough. More than 
anything else she could possibly think of ... and then, momentarily, she 
thought of Mark... 

"Darling, you're a big girl now, as they say," Mertz brought her back to the 
reality of the moment. "Who am I to try and kid you. There's a little old 
saying that hits the nail right on the head in this small and limited world 
of art, and it goes like this: it's not what you know ... but who you sleep 
with." 

So, there it was! Lisa laughed. The martinis had produced a pleasant glow 
that seemed to round off all the sharp edges. She felt the atmosphere 
keenly, as if she belonged. Music, the softly singing lilt of violins in 
some romantic strain she could not place rained down over her like a 
snowfall of Stardust. Even Kurt Mertz assumed imaginative proportions before 
her. 

Suddenly, he said: "The question is, darling ... how badly do you want 
success?" 

Lisa smiled beautifully, sensuously, almost seductively. 

"Badly," she replied in her throaty soft voice. "Very badly, Kurt ... 
darling." 

 CHAPTER TWO 

"Shall we have a drink?" Kurt Mertz invited, taking her wrap when they were 
inside his apartment. 

Lisa's belly had become a knotted little cavern of queasiness from the 
moment he'd closed the door behind her. She had already drunk too much, but 
purposely, and when he had casually placed his hand on her thigh driving 
home, she began wondering if she had drank enough. 

"I don't mind," she replied, her vision somewhat blurred, her tongue just a 
bit thick. She saw her manuscript on a center table and strolled over to 
look down at it while he went to a corner bar to prepare their drinks. 

"Turn on the stereo, darling," the heavy literary agent said over the 
tinkling of glassware. "I think we need soft lights and music, eh?" 

Lisa looked in his direction, couldn't see him but managed a smile anyway. 
She spotted the stereo and went over to it, trying to count up all the 
"dears" and "darlings" they had exchanged so far throughout the evening. 

God, is it really worth it? Is it? she thought to herself. And all over that 
pile of paper sitting there on that table. Can I go through with it? 

Mertz came up behind her, moved a little to her right and handed her a glass 
while at the same time his other hand went around her slender waist, 
immediately smoothing down over the" full round curve of her shapely 
buttocks. She stiffened, her breath coming sharply into her throat. 

"My God, you're lovely," he rasped, his face only an inch or so from her 
own. "We ... we do understand each other, don't we?" 

Lisa swallowed tightly. His insinuating hand resting on the outward swell of 
her buttocks had sent a cold chill fluttering through her. She steeled 
herself to keep from bolting. 

"Well...? We do, don't we?" the pudgy man prodded nervously. He licked at 
his lips and his little colorless eyes were bugging at her. Thank God, she 
couldn't see him clearly. 

"I'm here, aren't I?" she heard herself say. 

Abruptly, he turned her to face him and drew her up tightly against him, 
causing her drink to splatter on both of them as he smothered her soft lips 
with his wetly open mouth. He clutched at her smooth fleshy buttocks with 
both small hands, grinding his pelvis into her until she could feel the 
rising bulge of his excited maleness, and his tongue jabbed between her lips 
against her teeth. 

He drew back his head, simpering lustfully at her as she tried to measure 
her own physical reactions to his aggressive touch. So far, so good, she 
thought mechanically. The liquor was doing its job well if only she didn't 
have to look at him... 

"You won't be sorry, darling," he hissed at her. "I promise you that. You be 
nice to me, and we'll make you fame and fortune with that book. I swear 
it..." 

His hands smoothed up over her sensuous hips and waist to her lushly ripened 
breasts where they paused to squeeze and massage her soft warm flesh. Lisa 
was amazed at her lack of feeling, but she couldn't bring herself to touch 
him in response. Suddenly, he let go of her. 

"Let's go into the bedroom," he gasped, grasping her hand and leading the 
way. 

A shudder passed over her then, the first of a series that seemed to rack 
her whole being at the thought of willingly entering his bedroom with him 
and for the sole purpose of giving her body to him. He stopped in the 
doorway and turned to her. 

"You're frightened," he said, attempting to be gentle even as his eyes 
spewed an urgently raw lust at her. "I feel you trembling. Don't worry, I 
won't hurt you, I promise." 

Oddly, she was encouraged by his words, enough so that she managed a further 
smile as she said: "I I'm afraid I'm not much good at this sort of thing. I 
I haven't done it m-much." 

He grinned lasciviously, drawing her into the room. "I'll help you," he half 
whispered. "You just be your normal, luscious self, and leave the rest up to 
me." He left her, crossing the room. 

Lisa raised her drink and gulped half of it down. He had turned on a dim 
bureau lamp and started to remove his coat and tie. For the first time she 
saw the girth of his enormous stomach protruding against his white shirt, 
and then the bulge of his erect penis straining against his trousers. She 
stared at him in somewhat spellbound fascination as he unbuttoned his shirt, 
as if she were suddenly bewitched by this whole unbelievable scene in which 
she was scheduled to play a leading role. It was like some comedy, some 
farce she had once seen somewhere, as if she ought to burst out laughing but 
there was nothing to laugh at, absolutely nothing at all! 

"Would you like me to undress you, darling?" Mertz asked softly. He had 
removed his shirt and was pulling his undershirt over his head. She saw the 
full bulk of his heavy belly then, hairless and pink-skinned like a baby, 
his effeminate breasts puffy and flabby, a small patch of hair between them. 

She shook her head automatically to his question and walked to the other 
side of the bed, setting down her drink and reaching up behind her to lower 
the zipper of her dress. Whatever she did from here on, it would have to be 
without thinking, for if she gave the lurid situation one complete minute of 
thought she would run from there like a scared rabbit. She slipped her dress 
off, not looking at him but feeling his eyes raking her. She was wearing a 
half-slip and wriggled that down over her panty-covered hips. She had 
blotted his presence temporarily from her mind and went about undressing as 
if she were home and getting ready for bed. Subconsciously, she reached up 
behind her and unfastened her brassiere, slipping it off; then, her garter 
belt, smoothing her nylons down over the silky flesh of her smoothly tanned 
legs. Her back was to him and now only her panties remained. Why not? If not 
now, eventually anyway. She bit at her lower lip and rolled them down over 
her lusciously rounded hips, straightened ... and there he stood before her! 

The naive young girl gasped aloud, the sight of his obese nakedness 
shattering her mental wall of privacy, his fatly grinning, baby-like face 
sending the first wave of revulsion surging through her. Her eyes dropped 
slowly down his gross bulk and locked on his stiffly erect rod of male flesh 
projecting from the woolly hair-covered pelvis beneath the heavy sag of his 
stomach, its purplish tip already wet with the excited secretion it had 
produced. She gasped again and began shaking her head negatively, her mouth 
falling open loosely, her lovely eyes widening in a panic that was fast 
overwhelming her. 

Oh, my God! What ... what was I thinking of? I can't! I can't! This ... this 
ugly, greasy man! I ... I. . . 

"I ... I can't do it, Mr. Mertz!" she blurted at him. "I just can't!" 

He quickly moved in close to her, his arms circling her, jerking her 
trembling young body against him and causing his long thick cock to stab 
between her legs because of their equal height, her erectly protruding 
breasts digging into the flabbiness of his chest as he bent her backwards, 
his huge belly grinding against the tender flesh of her own. 

"Don't be a little fool!" he hissed. "Who the hell are you trying to kid, 
baby? You've been married and divorced! Don't try to play the virgin act 
with me. You've been fucked more ways than I can think of!" 

"Oh God!" Lisa wailed, trying to get her hands between them and push his 
vile body off of her. 

Mertz had locked his hands behind her waist and was pressing her back 
against the bed. The little bitch was suddenly going to go chaste on him, 
eh? Well, he had gotten the rundown on her a long time back, when he'd first 
seen her on the elevator. He knew that she was a divorcee, and too many 
times he had drooled over just the sight of her to let her get away from him 
now. She had come to him, had played the game with him all evening, and now 
it was too late ... too late, baby! He wasn't about to let her go until he'd 
sunk his eagerly throbbing cock deep down into that delectably tight little 
cunt of hers. He was going to shoot his hot sperm up into that white little 
belly if it killed him and being here the way she was, there was nothing she 
could ever do about it! 

"Oh God, don't ... don't!" Lisa begged as he bumped her backwards and they 
fell onto the bed, his vast bulk crushing the breath from her while his 
ramrod cock remained thrust between her clenching thighs, its upper portion 
partially insinuated between the fleshy pink lips of her cringing loins, its 
head snugly fit between her ass-cheeks flattened by the mattress. "Please 
... please, Mr. Mertz ... I was wrong. I thought I could ... but I can't, 
don't you see?" 

"I see that you're a teasing little bitch!" the lusting agent spat down at 
her. "A cock teaser, eh? Well, baby, you're going to get fucked like you 
haven't had it in a long time. I may be fat, but when it comes to fucking, 
I'm king, hear me?" 

Lisa winced beneath his vile language. A scene from another time raced 
through her brain. She was going to be raped! She knew that she couldn't 
hold her legs together against him, that she was no match for his strength. 
His evilly lewd penis was going to ram into her precious womanhood and 
violate her horribly. He was going to spit his vulgar sperm up into her 
helpless belly, and there was nothing she could do to stop him! He was 
trying to kiss her now and she rolled her head frantically, but he caught it 
between his small hands and held it vise-like as he laved her face with his 
infant tongue. 

"Oh ... oh, Mr. Mertz ... I beg you, please ... please don't," she whimpered 
beneath him, pinioned defenselessly under his incredible hugeness. 

He hardly heard her and she felt him forcing her struggling legs apart. 
Struggling seemed ridiculous, but she did. even as he dug his nails into her 
naked flesh, spreading her ivory thighs until he was planted firmly between 
them, both of them grunting like fighting animals in their duel. Lisa 
groaned pitifully; then, looking up into his simpering face, she spat 
viciously, her angry saliva splattering between his fish-colored eyes and 
dripping down his pug nose. 

"You goddamned little cunt!" he squealed hoarsely, slapping her cruelly 
across the face. 

"I'll make you pay for that. I swear I'll make you pay!" 

He wiped at his face and then his hand disappeared. Tears welled up into 
Lisa's eyes as she felt him spreading the sensitive lips of her reluctant 
vagina with the blood-inflated head of his terrible cock. She almost wanted 
to beg his forgiveness as she felt it splay the moistly pink flesh and 
position itself before the tight and tender mouth of her long-neglected 
vaginal passage. Her eyes gaped as she stared up into his brutally 
lust-contorted face. 

"Now, goddamn you ... beg!" he spat. "Let me hear you beg!" 

"Oh ... ooohhh, my dear God," she whimpered and he pressed forward slowly 
until she could feel the bloated tip of his enraged penis pressing cruelly 
against the tight elastic opening of her unready and unwanting vagina. 

A leer of undisguised brutal lust twisted the pink cherubic face above her 
as he said: "Spit in my face will you, bitch! Well, we'll see ... we'll 
see... 

She felt his heavy hips lift and automatically her hands went down to grab 
and hold them back, but it was a useless attempt. He thrust and she 
screamed. The head of his angry cock burst inside her defenseless little 
cunt with the force of some bluntly impaling log, and he held there 
momentarily while his piggish eyes absorbed the agony on her tormented face. 
Then, he sent it soaring into her when she least expected it, mercilessly 
like a roaring bull given its head, piercing and expanding the tight 
unsuspecting walls of her tender passage in a thundering plunge that not 
only took her breath away, but her wits as well. A great blackness seemed to 
envelop the frightened girl, and she fainted dead away. 

When she opened her eyes again, Lisa felt momentarily nauseous. Mertz lay 
between her legs and she seemed to burn from her knees to her breasts. She 
squirmed beneath his great body and the warmly wet sloshing in her belly 
registered. Fear gripped her. Oh, my God, he'd emptied his foul loins into 
her while she was unconscious. She felt it, like a disgusting pool of 
seething lava, swirling in the depths of her abused belly. She stared up at 
him and he grinned simperingly down at her. 

"I'm not mad, if you're not," he said. 

Dear God, how she'd like to plunge a knife into his heart! She said nothing, 
only turned her face from him. His hands were on her reddened breasts, 
clutching and manipulating, rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumbs 
and forefingers and endeavoring to harden and distend them. He dropped his 
drooling lips onto one and sucked. She sensed his tongue, a maddening vortex 
of sensation she couldn't ignore. Wild little flurries flittered through her 
belly. She writhed and simultaneously felt again the growing of his 
just-satiated cock over again up between her helpless thighs. 

"Haven't you had enough rape for one night?" she threw at him. 

The obese literary agent chuckled. "You vixen, you almost had me fooled," he 
said, slipping his hand down between the open lips of her sperm-filled cunt. 
He let a fingertip steal up and taunt her sensitive clitoris, the nail only 
grazing against it enough to send overpoweringly paroxysmal sensations 
rippling through her. 

"Ooooohhh," she moaned uncontrollably. 

Kurt Mertz laughed aloud. "This time, we're both going to enjoy it, 
darling." 

"Don't call me, darling. Don't, don't, don't!" she screamed at him. 

Again, he laughed. "All right, bitch! That's what I'll call you. Bitch!" he 
spat as he squirmed his heavy bulk on top of her and she felt his monstrous 
cock grinding into her defenseless flesh once more. "Only this time, I've 
got other ideas." 

Lisa felt him rise from her, all of his weight lift up and off her and she 
struggled to get to her feet, but suddenly she found herself flipped onto 
her face and his massive bulk atop her once more, her face buried in the 
soft coverlet on the bed. 

"Goddamn you!" she screamed back at him, and Mertz laughed. She was totally 
helpless, face down and spread-eagled, hardly able to breathe as she lay 
pinned beneath him. His huge belly pressed into the soft hollow of her back 
and his growing erection lay snugly insinuated lengthwise between her 
trembling buttocks. She felt his hands press into the mattress to slide 
beneath her flattened breasts and begin their kneading and squeezing once 
more as he rocked gently on top of her, pressuring his shaft in rhythmically 
simulating movements into the warm crevice of her softly quivering buttocks. 

It dawned on the abused young woman that she was being an idiot about it; 
there was absolutely nothing she could do to defend herself. She was like an 
insect being held down by the weight of a giant human hand: God, what an 
obscenely comical picture they must make, she thought. She tried to squirm 
and found that that was hopeless too, but the gurgling her effort caused 
deep in her belly reminded her that he had already shot his lewd semen into 
her once, and she cringed within at the thought. Well, the damage was done, 
it wasn't as if he had lured her here; she had come of her own free will ... 
and knowing... 

"Are you calming down, darling?" he whispered down at her. 

"You're squashing me," Lisa replied; it was an effort to even speak. 

"Will you be good ... stop acting like some school girl on her first date?" 

"I ... I won't fight you anymore, if that's what you mean," she said. 

He rolled off of her but clung to her flattened breasts, keeping her inside 
his arms and putting them both onto their sides, spoon-fashion. Then, with 
his upper arm, he reached down and placed his now erect cock between her 
moistened thighs, tight into the open lips of her sperm-wet cunt, and she 
could feel the bristly hair of his bulging pelvis against her softly round 
buttocks. 

She sighed heavily, able to breathe freely once more. His face was buried in 
her long hair and suddenly she felt him nibbling at her neck while he gently 
massaged the burgeoning nipples of her released breasts. God, if only he 
wasn't such a repulsive man, she thought, the frenzy of minute tingles from 
his hands rippling down through her belly. 

"There's no need for us to fight about it, is there?" Mertz said into her 
ear. "I want to be friends if you do." 

Lisa shivered beneath the deft movements of his hands and fingers caressing 
and tweaking the now erect nipples of her smooth breasts. 

"Y-You know what I want," she answered, her breath catching in her throat. 
"You know the only reason I'm here ... doing this." 

Mertz chuckled lightly. "You're a mercenary little piece," he said, moving 
his hand down the satiny smooth skin of her waist to her slender hips and 
drawing her softly trembling buttocks back tighter against his pudgy loins. 
"But it's a language I can understand." 

Lisa relaxed a little, letting herself go back against him, feeling his 
insatiable shaft pulsating up against her rounded buttocks, its ever 
enlarging head instilled now between the fleshy supple lips of her 
sperm-soaked vagina. The horror of the situation had somehow worn thin for 
her; perhaps, it was the dazing effects of the liquor again, or the fact 
that the initial abomination was past; whichever, she was convinced that at 
this point she should get something out of it. She felt his hand move down 
over the naked flesh of her satin belly to the velvety mound of her warmly 
throbbing cunt, his finger parting the curling pubic hair and slipping into 
her wet slit to tease the tiny bud of her sensitive clitoris once more. The 
erotic little spasms he set off caused her to jerk her buttocks convulsively 
back against him, and he withdrew his hand, moving it up over her rounded 
hip and buttock cheeks, and down between her warm thighs where his massively 
thickened cock pulsed and beat like a hot second heart. 

She heard his breathing increase and felt it warm against her neck as his 
fingers expertly caressed the lips of her splayed vagina before beginning to 
fuck his outstretched middle finger slowly and gently into the moist walls 
of her cuntal channel. His tender rotating movements raised a little gasp of 
unexpected excitement from her. 

"You like that," he whispered hotly into her ear. "It sends fire shooting 
through that tight little cunt, doesn't it? Makes you want to fuck? You can 
almost feel my cock slipping right up into your warm little belly, eh?" 

A tremor passed quickly over the naked young divorcee, the vile sound of the 
lewd words strangely exciting her, but she said: "Please ... do you have to 
use that filthy language? I'm not a prostitute, you know." 

"But those are words of love and passion, darling ... fuck and cock and cunt 
and suck," he hissed and once more she trembled almost uncontrollably at 
their lewd sound. "And you should learn to use them." 

The blonde novelist gasped again and held her breath as she felt his fingers 
slip wetly out of her well-lubricated vagina with a lewd sucking sound. He 
squirmed behind her, drawing at her soft buttocks and angling them out 
tighter against him; then he said; "Put it in." 

She felt her body go rigid automatically at his suggestion, the obnoxious 
thought repulsing her. 

She sensed his obscenely rock-hard shaft throbbing up between her thighs and 
tried to shake her head. 

"I'm ... I'm too sore..." 

"Put it in!" he ordered, reaching over her naked hips to take her hand and 
press it between her trembling legs. 

Her mind froze and she gritted her teeth angrily, ready to fight him again. 

"I said, put it in!" he snapped harshly into her ear. 

Bitterly, she sank her white even teeth into her full lower lip and let her 
fingers find the hot rigid staff of flesh between her legs. Her fingers and 
thumb moved to encircle and maneuver it as it throbbed hotly in her hand, 
sending another unwanted wave of wanton excitement through her battered 
loins. It was necessary for her to push her naked buttocks back even further 
toward him before he could put it inside her hotly pulsating pussy, and Lisa 
moaned in dread as she worked his lust-swollen cock-head between the 
quivering wet lips of her open cunt, moving his thick hardness slowly back 
and forth in the hair-lined slit up between her legs in preparation for his 
entry. 

"For God's sake, don't hurt me ... please?" she begged as she felt his heavy 
hips begin to pressure forward. 

"Maybe a little ... but only for a minute," he answered hoarsely, and the 
spongy head of his pressuring cock moved tight against the elastic little 
mouth of her moistly quivering vagina, its tip easing into her gently. 
Automatically, Lisa contracted her bowels in unwitting resistance, grunting 
with the anticipated pain that never came, for he slipped easily right up 
into her until she could feel him deeply embedded up in her belly, the hair 
of his groin brushing against her quivering ass-cheeks as momentarily he 
chose to lay still and locked into her. "Hurt?" he whispered. 

"I I ... no ... I don't think so," she managed, tasting the saltiness of the 
blood she had drawn from her lip. 

Gradually, he began to move, stroking gently with short in and out motions 
that slowly began to allay her fears. The wetness of his earlier ejaculation 
into her had lubricated the tight walls of her vaginal passage, and she gave 
thanks that at least it had had some value. In fact, she reluctantly 
admitted to herself, it felt rather good as he began to lengthen the stroke 
and quicken his tempo, and his turgid cock-head sank deeper and deeper up 
into her belly. 

Mark, her ex-husband, had never approached her this way, and it was an 
entirely new experience. It was painless, and she didn't have to look at the 
mounting male ... perhaps that was the reason the enthusiasm was growing 
rapidly inside her... 

But then, almost as suddenly as he'd begun, Kurt seemed to slip into a 
maelstrom of lust, his breath increasing furiously. He began to spear into 
her tight young cunt with less and less temperance, until his thick 
rock-hard cock was battering and smashing all before it in great waves of 
inflexible strength, his pelvis smacking tight into her soft buttocks 
mercilessly from behind. 

"Oh ... oh ... oh," Lisa coughed with every body-jolting thrust. "You're 
hurting me!" Once more, her fear had leaped into being within her. "My God!" 

A twinge of pain shot through her as his rampaging shaft burrowed deeper up 
into her helpless womb. He had dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her 
abdomen and was holding her secured. She could do nothing but squirm 
helplessly as he jackhammered into her wetly throbbing pussy, feeling his 
obese body tight against her own back, his breath coming in raspy warm 
blasts against the sensitive flesh of her neck. 

"Christ!" he blurted suddenly, and before she realized what was happening he 
had forced her over onto her belly, his legs between her own and was drawing 
her hips backward so that she came up onto her knees. He clung savagely to 
her naked buttocks, his stubby fingers gouging into their soft flesh as he 
levered both of their bodies into the desired position he wanted, his knees 
inside her own and pressuring them out brutally. 

Instantly, shame and degradation nearly overwhelmed Lisa at the obscenely 
debasing animal stance he had forced her into. She knew what this position 
was called: Dog fashion! She felt like some medieval harem concubine bent 
servilely before her master in an attempt to bring him his lustful pleasure. 
Once again, her anger raged inside her, and she tried to crawl forward and 
away from his pistoning cock, but the brutal agent reached forward with both 
hands grasping her by the shoulders, pulling her voluptuously struggling 
body back tight against him, flattening her upraised buttocks with a solidly 
resounding whack as his huge balls heavy with sperm again scraped against 
her inner thighs with each powerful stroke. 

Lisa's moans of pain and humiliation went unheeded as Kurt ground into her, 
his long thick cock sunk to the hilt in her quivering white belly. She could 
feel the pulsating cock-head jammed tight against her battered cervix as he 
pressed her agonized thighs out even wider and brought his hands back to her 
narrow waist, to begin a slow tormenting rotation of his rigid penis deep 
inside her tortured young cunt. 

My God, I'm going to split apart! 

"You're hurting me! Damn you!" Lisa panted back at her tormentor as he 
forced gasp after gasp from deep in her lungs with the brutal thrusts of his 
rampaging cock. But even as she spoke she knew that the pain had already 
lessened and she felt her tight cuntal passage expanding further and further 
with each new stroke he made into her. Only the inexorable pressure of the 
weight of his hands forcing her upper torso down in order to raise her naked 
buttocks upward toward his face was causing her immediate agony. Yet the 
warm tingling of excitement that had begun in her loins was combining with 
her discomfort to create a new masochistic pleasure, unfamiliar but weirdly 
appealing to the submissively kneeling young girl. 

Now, he was pumping into her from behind with bruising force, squeezing the 
supple flesh of her joggling buttocks as choking whimpers gurgled from his 
heavy belly. He twisted and rammed forward while one of his fingers began to 
nudge at her tightly puckered anus and the very thought of what was 
happening sent a deep seated wave of shame and humiliation coursing through 
her at the vision of her completely servile nakedness and subjugation before 
this vile man whom she had willingly given herself to. 

God ... his penis getting bigger and bigger inside me! His lewd thing is 
filling my whole belly ... it's going to choke me! 

Suddenly, Lisa found to her own amazed repugnance that she was moving her 
nakedly quivering buttocks back in lewd little circles toward Mertz's thick 
rampaging cock, undulating her own hips in an obscene invitation, abandoning 
herself to the obscene fucking she was receiving from behind with an 
uncontrollable and mounting desire. She turned her face sideways to look 
back at him, and when Mertz saw it contorted in growing rapture, he nearly 
went wild. 

He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker in her belly, as 
he ground savagely into the kneeling young blonde with a wave of sadistic 
delight flickering across his pudgy face. His eagerly pulsating cock had 
suddenly begun to ache and burn as it never had before. He was almost there, 
and the way she was swaying and dancing on the end of his cock, he was 
certain that she was too. 

Lisa had suddenly fallen into a spell of sheer entrancement. The delicious 
constraining force building inside her was an ecstatic pleasure she had 
never before known; nothing else mattered but that ever-mounting blissful 
pressure his wonderfully thick cock was producing inside her, and she had 
given herself over in complete wantonness to it. It was enormous, 
breathtaking, overshadowing all pain and agony, making it all understandably 
worthwhile ... his ugliness ... oh he was beautiful! The world was 
beautiful! Fucking was beautiful! 

Her belly suddenly burst open in one great moment of joyous rapture, and she 
screamed instinctively knowing she was cumming in spite of all her years of 
never believing that she could. A gush of something hot and wet seemed to 
flood her straining loins, her tensed stomach quivering, her ivory thighs 
convulsing spasmodically, to finally spread over her whole exhausted body in 
one complete trembling shudder. She wanted to collapse, but he held her with 
insanely clutching hands. She felt her spasming thighs and quivering 
ass-cheeks swept wide apart in one last battering attack as he rammed his 
wildly jerking penis in as far as he could up, up into her belly and began 
spurting his hot searing cum deep up inside her. He threw back his head and 
wailed. 

"Aaarrrggghhh!" It was a sound of animal rapture, unbelievable in its 
intensity. 

Lisa felt his heated liquid passion filling her contracting vaginal passage 
with a compelling force for the second time that night. Dear God! She sensed 
it flooding hotly into her, filling the depths of her womb until she thought 
she would drown from it. There were several convulsive jerks of his 
thrusting pelvis against the soft cheeks of her relaxing buttocks, and then 
he gradually slithered down and away from her, his rapidly deflating penis 
pulling out of her with a lewd sucking sound. 

The young female writer fell forward onto her face and lay quietly unmoving. 
She turned her face away from Mertz where he lay, but heard his spent 
breathing as it filled the room. 

"Well?" he said after awhile. 

She didn't answer. In the aftermath of her initial climactic moment of 
ecstasy, she felt horribly let down and loathsome of her own self. Why ever 
she should, she didn't know! She had no one she was responsible to; she had 
committed no infidelity. Then, she thought of Mark and tears came into her 
eyes. She had never known this sexual satisfaction with him, but whose fault 
was that? 

"Was it that bad?" Mertz said, putting his hand on her sweat-streaked back. 

Lisa cringed beneath his hand. "Don't touch me!" she spat, jumping from the 
bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to pull on her clothes. 

"What the hell...! " the astonished agent exclaimed. "You must be some kind 
of nut. One minute, you're wild; your ass is humping like a bitch in heat. 
The next, you're about as friendly as a cold shower on a winter's morning. I 
don't get you, baby. Just what is your hang-up, anyway?" 

Lisa gaped at the nakedly obese man on the bed, sick inside herself at the 
thought that she had actually degraded herself to the point of giving her 
body to this obscene mountain of flesh, but more upset with the fact that he 
had made her cum for the first time in her life. 

She tried to speak, but couldn't; her tears choked her. Instead, she dressed 
as rapidly as she could and ran from the room. Thank God, he didn't try to 
stop her. She darted through the living room and out into the hall and then 
into the elevator where she collapsed against the wall as it began its 
ascent. Her mind was filled with a mixture of overpowering emotions: A blend 
of fear, anger, passion and self-disgust. But through it all, with 
insistently undeniable clarity, came the awful knowledge that she had 
defiled not only herself, but the love she still held for her husband as 
well. 

"Oh Mark ... oh dear God, Mark ... my darling ... I need you so very 
much..." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"You must be Mark Andrews," Sara Cortland smiled, following a lazy moment of 
surveillance of the young investment broker. An expression of welcome 
surprise flickered across her extremely attractive face. "Come in, we've 
been expecting you." 

She spoke with a decided southern accent, Mark thought, as he stepped 
through the door into the Cortland's magnificently furnished apartment. He 
waited while Peter Cortland's beautiful young wife closed the door, and then 
moved ahead of him to lead the way into the living room. 

"You sound as though you're from my neck of the woods," Mark ventured 
colloquially as she motioned him to a seat on one of the two overstuffed 
sofas in the room. 

"How do you mean? Drink?" the lovely woman asked, crossing the room to the 
small bar in one corner. 

"No. No thanks. Too early for me." Mark settled himself down on the sofa, 
unable to keep himself from staring at Sara Cortland's exquisitely moving 
buttocks swaying under her sheer summer dress as she walked. Her dress was 
very short, almost too short, and revealed her tawny thighs to their best 
advantage. 

"I mean your accent," he continued, "Georgia?" 

"South Carolina. My family was strictly Old South. I was happy to get to New 
York." The lovely woman smiled enticingly, almost familiarly, as she poured 
their drinks. "You're very observant, Mr. Andrews. I like that." 

Her eyes rested on him just a moment too long to be accidental, Mark thought 
disconcertedly, but then he dismissed the thought with an inward smile. He'd 
never grow up; three minutes with a beautiful woman, and he was imagining 
himself in bed with her. 

"I hope I'm not too early, I couldn't remember whether we'd said four 
o'clock or four-thirty." 

"Oh no, you're right on time, Mark. I may call you Mark?" She continued 
without waiting for an answer, "And you must call me Sara. Peter will be out 
in just a minute, he's just come in from the gym. That'll give us time to 
get acquainted, all right?" 

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," Mark smiled intimately, 
subconsciously responding to the challenging tone of Sara Cortland's voice. 

"My, my ... you are an eager young man, aren't you? I just hope your plans 
for Peter's money come on as strong." 

Mark blushed, suddenly afraid that he'd stepped out of bounds, but his 
prospective client's wife reassured him quickly with a friendly smile. And 
then, from behind him, Mark heard a heavy grunt, and saw his hostess look up 
over his head and then rise. 

"Peter, darling, this is Mark Andrews. Mark, this is my husband, Peter." 

Mark started to rise, but got no chance as Peter Cortland thundered into the 
room, immediately dominating it, and came around the sofa thrusting out his 
hand, standing directly in front of the young investment broker. 

"Hello, Andrews. Sorry I'm late." 

"No, sir, you're right on..." Mark began, reaching up and clutching the huge 
hand. 

"He isn't drinking, dear," Cortland interrupted. "Give the boy a drink." 

"He declined, darling." 

"Nonsense. What d'you drink, Andrews?" 

"Well ... Scotch ... anything." 

"That's more like it," the friendly literary agent grinned, moving around 
behind the bar to fix the drinks. "Now bring over all your facts and 
figures, and let's see if you can do any better for me than those duffers 
I've got working for me now. You got all that financial status crap I mailed 
to you?" 

"Yessir," Mark answered quickly, starting to leap up. But Sara Cortland's 
barely noticeable hand caught his eye and slowed him. She wavered it up and 
down meaningfully, and then winked conspiratorily ... and a bit suggestively 
as well, Mark thought. But he took the hint. "And on the basis of those 
preliminary figures, I've come up with a possible line of investment that I 
think is very..." 

"Here, boy. Drink hearty," the large man interrupted, thrusting a glass into 
his hand and raising his own in toast. "Just let me see what you've come up 
with, and we'll talk about it later." 

Mark opened his briefcase, and handed Cortland the prospectus sheets he'd 
tried to work up from the basic facts contained in Cortland's preliminary 
financial statement. Then he stood back as Sara Cortland moved around the 
bar to stand by her husband, cooing as he slipped an arm around her 
erotically slender waist. Mark caught the movement, and gulped as Sara just 
briefly looked up at him and gave an odd little smile. He raised his drink 
to his lips, and gulped a good portion of it down. It was more than half 
Scotch, and he swallowed tightly with the jolt. 

"You've got two different plans here?" Cortland grunted after a few minutes 
quick inspection. 

"Yessir, three actually. I didn't know, of course, whether you would prefer 
a good, secure, long term stock with fairly stable returns, or the chance of 
a really big return on some riskier short-range investments. Personally, my 
choice would be for the third plan. Mark leaned over and indicated a 
separate piece of paper. "It combines a good measure of security by 
investing in growth stocks, plus a healthy measure of risk-taking which 
you'll notice, is quickly consolidated and not allowed to become 
over-extended." 

Mark noticed nervously that Cortland seemed to be nodding his head slightly 
in response, but he couldn't be sure. 

"Why take any chances at all, Mark?" Sara 

Cortland said quickly. "Why not put everything into growth stocks?" 

Mark cleared his throat. "Well, in my opinion, short-term investing can be 
done intelligently and without that much risk. And if an investor is too 
cautious, I firmly believe that he may find himself in as bad or worse shape 
than someone who takes too many risks. It's a matter of choice, though, of 
course..." 

Sara smiled beautifully. "I'm sure you'll work it out for us, Mark," she 
said, with emphasis on his name. "The whole thing does nothing but confuse 
me anyway." 

She turned away from him slowly, and he gulped at his drink once more. It 
was hardly feasible to him that they were scrutinizing his plans this 
closely. He had sat in the luxurious living rooms of too many money-people 
lately, perhaps, listening to them butcher his ideas with their own absurd 
preconceptions. Of course, he hadn't had the opportunity to turn down any 
prospective clients, but on some of his crucified plans, he'd dearly wanted 
to. 

Peter Cortland grunted once more. Suddenly, he picked up his drink and 
turned from the bar. 

"I like them, Andrews. You seem to have considered all the angles. Of 
course, I'll have to give them a few days study before I make my decision." 
He walked over to a large leather chair, obviously his special one, and 
dropped heavily into it. "But it'll be a few days before I can let you know 
anything. I'm a very busy man. Leave these figures here, and I'll call you 
and let you know our decision." 

Mark nodded, even found a smile. How many times had he heard that one in the 
last few months? He drained his Scotch and stood. 

"Nice meeting both of you," he said, shaking the big man's hand. "Of course, 
I'm ready and willing to listen to any instructions you might have. I'm sure 
you know what's best for your money, after all." 

Cortland didn't answer, just waved in farewell. Mark walked to the front 
door, followed by his beautiful hostess. Then he turned and reached out for 
her hand. She gave it to him. 

"It was worth it just for this," he said, almost too dramatically. 

She smiled. "You lovable liar," she half whispered. "I like your ruthless 
eyes, Mark Andrews. If your promise is what I think it is, you've just got 
yourself a deal." 

Mark debated for a full ten seconds, then leaned forward with pursed lips. 
She met him with her own. 

"Bye, bye," he said, his heart pounding in his chest. 

"Bye," she whispered, running her hand along his arm until he left. 

As he was waiting for his wife to show the young investment man out, Peter 
Cortland smiled to himself. He had caught the enthusiastic expression in her 
eye as she'd watched the boy and pretty well decided what was' coming. Well, 
that was the secret of their successful marriage: understanding and 
broad-mindedness. They both enjoyed their own private little affairs, each 
often helping the other in setting up a seduction when the circumstances 
were too difficult for one to accomplish it alone. Cooperation had been the 
secret word, wildly uninhibited sex the name of the game, and happiness the 
result. But this time, there was a hundred grand of his money involved, 
casting a somewhat different light on the whole scene. 

He wasn't unimpressed. In fact, Mark's plans sounded damned good, but he 
wanted to be sure. He wasn't that filthy rich. Two marriages had drained the 
hell out of his resources, and he'd sworn never to marry again. Then, he'd 
met Sara and discovered that he had found a human being even more lusty than 
himself. God, what a woman she was, in or out of bed, and she'd given him 
five gloriously fun-filled years, with never a dull moment and hardly an 
argument. He was fifty-two and she twenty years his junior, but once they 
got their clothes off they were like a couple of teenagers who had just 
discovered sex and couldn't get enough. It was never the old married routine 
of one servicing the other out of obligation, but a seduction with all the 
preliminaries and ecstatic surprises, heart and soul thrown into it. But 
still, he was the boss, and the money was his. He didn't intend to jump off 
half-cocked because his little lover-girl had come up with a sudden case of 
hot-pants for their investment counselor. 

Sara was smiling as she re-entered the room. Peter watched the provocative 
sway to her roundly full hips as she approached his chair and stood in front 
of him, the scintillating explosions taking place in her dark eyes giving 
her away. 

"I know," the big man said, smiling up at her. 

"It's written all over your face." 

"Hmmmmmm," Sara cooed. "I want a piece of that boy, daddy. He gives me the 
quivers inside." She dropped to her knees in front of him and worked her way 
in between his legs to lay her head on his lap. "Jealous?" 

Peter chuckled. "Hell, no," he said. "I might be if I thought there was 
anything more to it than a few sessions in the sack, but I think I know my 
lover-girl well enough to know that two or three good fucks with Mark 
Andrews will cool those quivering insides." 

A little shudder of excitement passed over the kneeling woman and she hugged 
him. "That's why I love you, Peter ... you know and understand me like a 
book." She released him and trailed her hand over his flat stomach and down 
to the front of his trousers where the pressure of her head against him had 
caused his flaccid penis to stir. With her fingernail, she outlined the 
length of his growing shaft, and it jerked noticeably beneath its cloth 
covering while her husband made a little gasping sound. "What do you think 
of his plans?" she asked as she teased him. 

"P-Promising ... but I want to study them some more," Peter managed, his 
libido mounting rapidly beneath her teasingly taunting fingers. 

"I like them," his smiling wife said, using her thumb and forefinger now as 
she moved up and down his increasingly thick protrusion. Her eyes danced 
affectionately and she watched the growing lust twist his handsome face. 

"Y-Yeah, and I know why, lover-girl," the wealthy agent said, running his 
fingers through j her silken dark hair as tiny ripples of desire raced 
swiftly over the sensitive nerve-ends of his aroused skin. "You're letting 
your pussy do your thinking for you right at the moment 

She paused with her ministrations momentarily. "You mean you're not going to 
give him the contract?" 

"I didn't say that, honey," Peter replied softly, smiling through his 
building passion. "I said, I want to study them some more ... find out a 
little something about this Mark Andrews before we hand him a hundred grand 
of our money. You follow me now?" 

She smiled, her hand slipping to his belt and slowly beginning to unbuckle 
it. "I follow you, daddy ... just hurry with your decision, for your 
lover-girl's sake, eh?" 

Peter Cortland's broad face flushed slightly at the sight of his wife 
opening the front of his straining trousers. He watched her lower the zipper 
and then tantalizingly slip her long slender fingers into the waistband of 
his bulging shorts. He lifted his weight automatically, and she slipped both 
trousers and shorts down from his rugged hips, then went to his feet to tug 
both garments off of him. Satisfied, she sat back on her haunches between 
his legs to look at him, her eyes locking on his thick throbbing penis 
standing out rigidly, its purple tip peeking from beneath its heavily 
uncircumcised foreskin, his bloated testicles beneath resting on the cushion 
of the chair between his muscular thighs. 

Peter's mouth grew dry as he waited with mounting anticipation, never 
knowing with this remarkable girl what was coming next. His aroused cock had 
begun to tingle madly with lust and excitement, and he could feel his heavy 
balls tightening and swelling beneath it. He couldn't help but smile a 
little too, knowing that she was trying to persuade him with his decision on 
young Andrews. But right then he had reached the point where reasons didn't 
mean a damn, only that she get on with the action... 

Sara reached up behind her and lowered her own zipper, shrugging the summer 
dress from her smooth white shoulders, letting it drop to her hourglass 
waist. Then she reached back and unhooked her brassiere, slipping it down 
her arms and exposing her lushly uplifted breasts to him, their dark nipples 
immediately budding into hardness as the cool air brushed against them. 

The heavily breathing Peter gasped as always at the erotic sight of his 
wife's full pointed breasts. She leaned forward, sliding her hands along the 
outer side of his powerful thighs to his tensed buttocks and gently tugged 
until he slid forward to the edge of the cushion. Then, without a word 
between them, she encircled her fingers around the huge thickness of his 
erect penis and began to stroke and massage it gently, knowingly, rubbing 
the heavy foreskin up and down while slipping her other hand beneath the 
velvety sac of his balls, cradling their heated weight in her small palm. 
Peter groaned aloud, clenching his teeth at her amorous ministrations of his 
eagerly throbbing genitals. 

"What do you think now, daddy?" she teased him. 

"I-I haven't changed my mind ... we'll consider him," he stammered as she 
gave his jerking cock a tender squeeze that sent an exciting shock-wave 
spiraling up his backbone. 

"You wouldn't disappoint your lover-girl would you, huh? Would you?" the 
teasing seductress pouted, drawing the heavy foreskin slowly down behind the 
coronal rim of the satiny blood-filled head of his now wildly pulsating 
cock. 

"D-Damn you ... you're trying to blackmail me," Peter grunted, grinding his 
teeth together again, "I-I'm not responsible for what I say at a time like 
this." 

Sara laughed lightly and leaned forward, taking her soft warm breasts in 
each hand and separating them to create a fleshy little valley. Grinning 
impishly, she pressed her breasts tight around his feverish cock, completely 
engulfing the rigid shaft of his throbbing penis. 

Peter groaned and thrust his burning loins upward involuntarily at the soft 
contact of her heated flesh wrapped so enticingly around his rock-hard cock, 
his muscular hips beginning an immediate up and down rhythmic fucking 
motion. 

She took his big hands then and placed them on her supple breasts to knead 
and manipulate as he liked, while she again cupped his sperm-filled balls 
and gently scratched her nails beneath them with one hand, the Other worming 
up the crevice between his buttocks in a slowly tantalizing approach toward 
his puckering anus. 

Peter grunted from deep in his chest as he felt her outstretched finger 
reach his rectal opening, and gaped in mounting lust at the sight of his 
thick cock moving in and out between his wife's satin-textured breasts. He 
felt her long nails grazing his sensitive, cum-filled balls, and then 
groaned with the slow salacious penetration of her long finger slipping up 
into his rectum ... up, up, up ... until he could feel the palm of her hand 
resting warmly against his buttocks. 

"What do you think now, daddy?" she cooed up into his face, her sparkling 
eyes alive with her own building desire. 

"I-I think ... that you're a luscious little bitch..." the aroused husband 
rasped, half in smile, half dazed with the increasing sensations building in 
his tight loins. 

"Am I winning?" she teased, rotating her finger gently in his quivering 
anus. 

"Damn you ... yes ... you're winning..." 

"Mark Andrews is going to get our account?" 

Peter swallowed. "If that's what you want, baby ... Whatever you want..." 

"Oh, I love you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, letting go of his pulsing testicles 
and sliding her hand up the fiery shaft of his erect cock. She eased back 
from him and lowered her head until he felt the warm moistness of her open 
lips close over his painfully throbbing cock-head. 

"Uggghhh, beautiful ... baby ... beautiful," he grunted, tangling his hands 
in her hair and shoving his impatient loins upward into her lovely face. He 
watched the bobbing head as her warm mouth slipped sensually up and down his 
long fleshy rod of flesh, then he caught sight of their reflection in the 
wall mirror, and his excitement increased even more as he saw his thick 
white cock burying itself completely between her ovaled lipstick-rimmed 
lips. 

She twirled her tongue maddeningly around the moist stickiness of the 
blood-inflated head while her finger continued to thrust maddeningly in and 
around the soft spongy flesh of his pulsating anal passage. He gaped at the 
wall mirror, watching with lust-glazed eyes as his wetly glistening penis 
fucked like a piston shift in and out of her hungrily sucking mouth. 

"Oh Christ," he groaned. "Suck it, lover-girl. Oh shit ... beautiful ... 
suck it hard!" 

The woman kneeling between his widespread knees did just that, her head 
bobbing rhythmically with his fingers locked in her gleaming dark hair. Sara 
had worked him up to the point where his huge penis was pulsating and 
jerking in reaction to every flick of her tiny tongue, and he could see the 
red flesh of her ovaled lips being pulled out grotesquely with each sucking 
upstroke. He knew now that she had reached the stage of achieving her own 
gratification, a rare ecstasy that few women could boast; she was going to 
cum just by sucking him excitement and mental stimulation alone. She would 
wait for him, build to that peak, then his spurting ejaculation into her 
voracious mouth would set her off as surely as would a cock shoved deep in 
her hot little cunt. The thought of that alone now was driving him wild as 
he watched the stunningly beautiful brunette concentrate, oblivious to all 
else around her, her naked breasts jerking and dancing erotically below, all 
of it adding to the unbelievable pressure building in his testicles and 
loins. 

"Suck it! Suck it! like that. Oh yeh ... yes ... yes ... suck it ... suck it 
... oh God," he moaned, as she began to swirl her deeply embedded finger 
furiously in his stretched anus, until suddenly ... it was time! He could 
feel the power and the liquid glory surging up from the depths of his aching 
balls, and he shoved his powerful loins up hard against her beautiful face, 
clutching at her hair while his hot molten cum erupted the long hard length 
of his wildly jerking cock. He felt the first shudder of her own orgasm 
seize her and she began to suck with an insane hunger that threatened to rip 
the great exploding head of his penis right from the shaft. 

Gush after gush of his white hot sperm spewed into her wonderfully sucking 
mouth from his pumping cock. She swallowed repeatedly noisily and with great 
relish her cheeks bloating and hollowing, her naked body quivering and 
jerking from her own climax while she continued to suck gluttonously, little 
whimpering sounds of pleasure humming out of her, her head never stopping as 
he rammed his ejaculating shaft of thick flesh farther and farther down her 
throat. 

Then, a convulsive shudder passed over him, and he groaned a great sigh of 
contentment as the dregs of his lava-like sperm were sucked out of him and 
his virile shaft began to grow flaccid in her buttery mouth. Still, Sara 
clung to him, nibbling tenderly, licking until his tingling cock-head 
glistened in its softly deflated state, finally kissing it and raising her 
radiant face up to him. 

He bent down, taking her beautiful face between his big hands, and kissed 
her warmly on the mouth. 

"Now, Daddy," she said, her eyes dancing happily because she knew she had 
satisfied him, and had won the game. "I-I think I'd better have little Mark 
Andrews come over and see me tomorrow afternoon, don't you? I mean ... you 
don't plan to be home, do you?" 

Peter Cortland chuckled. "You're a hellion, you know that? A wild little 
bitch." 

She pouted. "You don't love me anymore," she said, dropping her head, 
kissing his deflated penis once more. 

He mussed her hair playfully. "As a matter-of-fact," he said, "I'll be at 
the office all day tomorrow." She raised her head and smiled at him. "I'll 
go over his plans tonight to make sure I get everything I want." He paused. 
"And if I get everything I want, baby, then I promise you can have 
everything you want." 

"Including...?" 

"Including." Peter answered. 

With a little squeal of pleasure, Sara Cortland nakedly raised herself up 
and threw her arms around his powerful neck. Oh, it was so nice to have such 
an understanding husband! 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

It was typical of Mark Andrews to make instantaneous decisions, and en route 
to the Cortland apartment the next afternoon he made one. He was putting an 
end to his arrangement with Jani Adams before it grew out of hand. It was 
well beyond the mutual arrangement stage and into the possessive development 
already, and he had discovered that he was as guilty as she. Not that he 
didn't like the cute little British model, but nothing could come of it 
because he would never let it; so, it was silly and unfair to both of them 
to let it continue. Regardless of what happened in the next few hours with 
Sara Cortland, he would move out and take a hotel room or something for a 
few days until he could find a place and move his things. 

He couldn't forget the way Peter Cortland's voluptuous wife had sounded over 
the telephone that morning: that smoky, seductive voice of hers, dripping 
sex while she talked about some money she wanted to invest, or some such 
nonsense. It was almost impossible for him to believe ... that the beautiful 
and filthy-rich Sara Cortland, wife of the biggest literary agent in New 
York, was giving him the come-on signals, but it had been written all over 
her yesterday and in her voice this morning when she'd called. Nevertheless, 
he was not about to blow the possibility of landing a 
hundred-thousand-dollar account for a romp in the sheets. If he did stand a 
chance of getting the deal, which he was still reluctant to believe, one 
sure way of destroying it would be to have Peter Cortland suspect him of 
carrying on with his lovely wife. In essence, he decided, he would just have 
to play it cool, leave the whole performance to her and watch it develop. 
After all, she had initiated this afternoon's meeting with him. He smiled 
inwardly as his cab pulled out of the main stream of traffic and parked 
before the Cortland's luxurious apartment building. 

He was feeling pretty much in command of himself when he rang the buzzer, 
but when she opened the door attired in the tiniest wisp of green bikinis, 
his prepared composure seemed to disintegrate and he could do nothing but 
stare at the nine-tenths of her exposed loveliness, his eyes immediately 
engorging themselves upon the slightly-tanned, satin-like skin that coated 
her lushly soft, girlishly firm,-contours. 

"Darling," she greeted him, smiling warmly. "I was just about to slip into 
something when you rang. I've been taking a sunbath on the deck. I must've 
dozed ... didn't realize it was so late..." 

Then, without preamble, she moved in close to him, her whole voluptuous 
length pressing tightly and hotly into him, her erectly pointed breasts 
flattening against his lower chest as her arms snaked around his neck and 
her belly and prominent pelvic mound ground snugly to him. Amazed at her 
audacious swiftness, Mark could neither breathe nor speak. Automatically, 
his hands closed on the velvety smooth flesh at the small of her back and he 
felt the muscles rippling lightly as a little tremor of delight passed over 
her and her moistly parted lips planted themselves upon his own. 

"Isn't that just about where we left off yesterday, lover?" she said, 
eventually drawing back and smiling languidly up at him. 

Mark raised his head, half sighing, half gasping, but still holding her. 
"I-I ... ah . . .don't recollect much of anything right at the moment," he 
managed, feeling his restlessly stirring penis beginning to respond to her 
lewd pelvic movements. 

She tittered lightly, kissed him on the nose and backed out of his arms. 
"You are a dear," she said matter-of-factly. "I think we're going to get on 
famously ... but first, to business, eh? Come, sit down and I'll mix us a 
couple of drinks to chat over." She started off and he gaped after her, his 
brain fast intoxicating itself on the lithe suppleness of her magnificent 
body, enhanced now by her practiced walk in the inch or so of heel on the 
golden sandals she wore. He could feel his awakening cock moving into a 
state of embarrassing rigidness, and when she looked back over her shoulder 
he saw that her eyes locked immediately on his bulging trousers in amused 
delight. "Problems, darling?" she teased. 

Mark sensed his face flushing slightly. He cleared his throat. "Wh-Where is 
Mr. 

Cortland?" he heard himself question. 

She had paused and was holding out her hand for him. He moved up to her and 
she caught hold of him, leading him into the luxurious living room. 
"Working, lover, like any good bread-winner would," she replied, leading him 
to a chair. "Now, you sit here while I mix." 

He watched her move gracefully around the bar to prepare the drinks, and 
then gulped as she came toward him, carrying a drink in either hand, her 
sensuously delightful body completely captivating him. He struggled to keep 
his wits, accepted the drink and watched her curl into a chair facing him, 
her long shapely legs folded beneath her. She was smiling finally. 

"You wanted to talk business, Mrs. Cortland?" the investment broker said in 
an effort to break the ice. 

"Oh, darling, call me Sara, please." She tilted her head cutely, her dark 
eyes dancing for him. "I was certain we had at least passed beyond that 
point." She leaned forward slightly, presenting him with a spectacular view 
of her ample cleavage. "Tell me, how much does getting Peter's account mean 
to you?" 

"A great deal everything right now, as a matter-of-fact," he said, afraid 
any moment that he would awaken to find it all a dream. 

"You were a broker with the Curren Company weren't you, darling?" Sara said, 
sipping at her drink. 

Mark tasted his own. It was Scotch and soda and potent. He nodded to her 
question. She had evidently been doing a little investigating, or perhaps 
her husband had. 

"And now you're a partner in a new company, and this account would literally 
make you, wouldn't it? Put you in business, that is...? " 

Again, he nodded. "It would." 

"Married?" 

"Divorced," he answered. 

"Who's the little girl you live with?" Sara asked, watching him carefully as 
she raised her glass to her lips once more. 

"A friend," said Mark, a bit irked at the question. "An arrangement of 
convenience." 

"Is she good? In bed, I mean?" 

Goddamn! This chick didn't pull any punches, he thought, feeling his face 
flushing once more. "That's an unfair question," he said, managing a grin. 
"I respectfully decline to answer on the grounds that it might tend to 
incriminate me." 

The exotic woman laughed. "A gentleman, no less." She shrugged her pretty 
naked shoulders. "No matter. Peter tells me she is pretty good, and he's an 
authority. Of course, she's never been to one of our parties, so I have to 
take his word for it." 

Once more Mark gaped at her. He was beginning to wonder if his hearing was 
doing him justice. 

"I shock you, don't I, darling," she said suddenly. "All these questions, 
the fact that I know so much about you, talking about my husband and another 
girl...? " She arose quickly and came over to fold herself onto his lap, her 
arm slipping around his neck, her naked thigh and hip pressuring down 
meaningfully onto his painfully erect penis. "You're beginning to wonder 
just what the hell it's all about, right?" 

"To-to say the least," Mark answered with difficulty as she leaned over to 
kiss his forehead wetly. 

"All right, I'll tell you," she said, squirming down intentionally onto his 
still hardening member. "Peter and I live a very full and exciting life. We 
think we have a perfect marriage. We're both equally lusty and we understand 
each other's wants and needs. We often entertain a few friends for example 
... discreet friends, darling drinks, dancing, some very special adult 
movies following a little skinny-dipping, private bedrooms and the like ... 
am I getting through to you, honey?" 

Mark swallowed tightly. He wasn't exactly certain what was registering with 
him at the moment, except that the weight and presence of her softly 
rounded, near naked contours was increasing his hungering need at an 
alarming rate. He had set down his drink, and his hand began moving 
tentatively over the warm, satin-like flesh of her slender waist and upward 
over her rib cage to her full sensuous breasts. 

"Hmmmmm," she cooed responsively to his touch, reaching behind her with her 
free left hand to untie her bikini top and let it fall into his lap. "You 
are going to get our account, darling ... and you are going to be my lover, 
aren't you?" 

"Christ!" he gasped as the perfectly shaped mounds of her ripe young breasts 
came into view, their ruby nipples pointing upward at him and swelling into 
palpitating hardness before his unbelieving eyes. He clutched one tightly 
into his hand, the feel of its warm, softly resilient flesh causing his 
growing cock to jerk uncontrollably as she writhed gently on top of it. With 
his other hand he drew her head down to him and glued his mouth wetly to 
hers, forcing his tongue between her eagerly parted lips, beyond the barrier 
of her white teeth and into the warm cavern of her mouth. She greeted it 
with a lingual caress from her own, then began to nibble and suck teasingly 
at his tongue. 

Finally, she raised her head as Mark continued to knead and massage her 
naked breast. "You haven't answered me," she half whispered. "Are you going 
to take our account?" 

"There's no question about it," he said quickly. 

"Yes, there is ... one big important question. Will you be my lover?" 

He realized suddenly that she was quivering in unsuppressed excitement. She 
had begun to squirm in his lap and her eyes were searching his almost 
frantically. 

"God, yes," he gasped. "I'll ... I'll be any damned thing you want! But you 
don't have to buy me. God! For this, I'd buy stocks from you!" 

She whimpered then and kissed him hungrily, darting her tiny tongue deep 
into his mouth and pressing her ripely voluptuous breast tight into his 
clutching hand. Then, she was on her feet and pulling him up. 

"Bring your drink," she ordered, almost breathlessly. "I want you now ... 
right now!" 

She led him in unrestrained eagerness toward the bedroom, her big naked 
breasts joggling with the effort. Once there, she immediately let go of his 
hand to wriggle her bikini bottoms down off her rounded hips to the floor. 
Then the impatient brunette wife jumped onto the large king-sized bed and 
rolled onto her back in a lewdly spread-eagle position. 

She smiled wantonly up at him and said, "Now, undress for me. I want to 
watch you." 

Mark could still hardly believe what was taking place. It was happening too 
fast for his brain to comprehend. First, the assurance of the account, now 
this naked vision of pure unadulterated sensuality lying seductively before 
him, panting for him to fuck her! My God, he had to be dreaming! His eyes 
played over her lushly displayed contours, and tiny ripples of lust surged 
through him. Hell, this wasn't a dream! It was actually happening to him! He 
drank in her erotically naked body and watched the impatient little 
undulating movements of her hips as she lay stretched out in anticipation 
before him. He had already discovered the warm magnificent firmness of her 
high-set breasts, and now he was staring at the enticingly curved and 
slightly tanned hips that led downward to the delectable sweep of gradually 
tapered thighs. Up between them, spread invitingly, he could see clearly 
through the soft dark pussy hair covering her quivering loins, the fleshy 
pinkness of her exposed vaginal slit, her excitement obvious in the first 
tiny dewdrops of moisture already glistening there. 

"Damn," he growled, "you're a lovely woman!" He still held his drink and was 
staring down at her. He saw the effect his words had made as she made a 
little mewling sound, her sensuous hips undulating as if of their own 
volition, her eyes seeming to glaze slightly. 

"Please, darling ... please hurry. I need you now," she pleaded. 

He began pulling at his clothes as she watched with a certain fascination, 
removing everything, even his shoes and socks before dropping his shorts 
that were trying desperately to contain the now rock-hardened bulge of his 
monstrous cock. Then, she raised up and leaned forward on an elbow, her eyes 
fixed upon his muscular loins as he made the unveiling. 

"Oh God," she gasped with breathless awe at the unbelievable thick rigidity 
of his huge masculinity standing out from his hairy loins. She stared at the 
virile throbbing of the lust-swollen cock head, her tiny pink tongue tracing 
her painted lip-line passionately. "It's ... it's beautiful! Oh God, lover, 
bring it here to me," she whimpered, moving over to the edge of the bed to 
meet him as he approached and stood stark naked before and above her. 

Mark felt an uncontrollable spasm tremor through his whole body as she 
gently let his strained maleness rest in the palm of her warm little hand, 
slowly circling her fingers about its thickness and sliding the heavy outer 
skin to and from her, her other hand moving between his hairy thighs to 
weigh his heavily swinging balls. Then he moaned in delight as her wetly 
heated tongue darted out to lick at the tiny split in its glans and catch 
the few drops of excited pre-ejaculate that had oozed out in his mounting 
desire. He groaned as her hot little tongue continued to lap, kitten-like, 
against the sensitive head of his wildly throbbing cock, then groaned again 
as she drew his iron-hard shaft of flesh toward her, opening her lips and 
drawing it slowly into her warm buttery mouth. Her tongue began a slow 
swirling motion around the pulsing tip as she kept drawing his thickness in 
... in ... in ... until he gaped in utter disbelief as almost all of his 
long hard penis had disappeared between her softly sucking lips. At last, 
she withdrew her head, then rolled back onto the bed, her arms and legs open 
to him. 

"Oh God, lover, I want you to fuck me to death with that beautiful cock 
hanging between your legs!" she breathed up at him. 

"Christ!" the young investment broker blurted, the lewd words exciting him 
further. He climbed onto the bed, half atop her, his hand caressing her soft 
satiny flesh from her hips to her breasts, kneading, cupping, stroking, his 
hungering mouth finding her own, his tongue exploring the still poignant 
taste of his own cock there and adding to his mounting lust. 

"You are going to be my baby," she whispered. "Would you like that, Mark, 
lover? And to be rich and famous besides?" 

"All ... all I want is you right now," Mark hissed down at her, smoothing 
his hand over her tautly rippling belly and below to the silky hair-covered 
mound that swelled into the wet fleshy lips of her naked cunt. He traced his 
finger along the pink hair-lined slit up between her quivering thighs to the 
warm crevice of her soft buttocks, and she gasped upward into his face 
continuously from the rocketing sensations it set off inside her loins, her 
hot breath like some rare perfume that he couldn't get enough of. 

The young stock salesman ground his ever-hardening cock against her hip 
while he caressed and taunted the most secret parts of her nakedly writhing 
body, even as his brain whirled with the fantastic events that had swept him 
up in less than an hour of his lifetime. Lying here beside her, making love 
to her, he couldn't help wonder what Peter Cortland would say should he walk 
through that door. Yet, at the moment, he didn't give much of a damn. He had 
to have this unbelievably enticing creature, and now! He'd heard about these 
husband-wife understandings, the swap-arounds, all of it. But to suddenly 
become a part of it ... God almighty, it was fantastic! Yet, here he lay 
with this gorgeous creature ... Oooooooh! She had his cock in her hand! She 
had her mouth clinging to his, sucking and nibbling at his tongue ... and 
now she was trying to maneuver him over on top of her, between her eagerly 
spreading legs, wanting his long thick cock in her hot young cunt ... well, 
so be it! 

He responded, moving between her legs, forcing his hands beneath her anus 
and running them down the soft sensual curves of her back and hips. He could 
feel the raised ridges of her spine moving almost imperceptibly as she 
undulated her shamelessly aroused body up against him in a slow teasing 
rhythm. The sinews of her muscles rippled lightly just under the tanned skin 
indicating a powerful hidden strength in her body as the tenseness of the 
cords in her long firm thighs pressed against the outside of his hips. He 
couldn't help but wonder how they would grip about him later when he had 
sunk his now throbbing cock deep inside her churning little pussy. 

"Oh God, you are something, Mark Andrews! I love your body," she whispered, 
biting at his lips and grinding the flatness of her belly tightly up to him. 
Her hands went to his lean, rock-hard buttocks and her nails raked him 
there, then moved upward the length of his back in a similar pattern. 
"You're going to be all mine from this moment on, lover. It's important that 
you understand that," she hissed into his ear. "Do you understand it? Do 
you?" 

He hesitated. "I understand that I'm going to fuck you, and fuck you until 
you forget where you are or who you are," he rasped down at her. "Do you 
understand that?" 

"Oh God! Lover, yes ... yes! Do it ... do it! Fuck me until I'm crazy! Sink 
that beautiful cock into my cunt until I go out of my mind, lover! Do that 
to me! Please ... please! Oh God! Don't make me beg for it any longer." 

He forced his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her 
smooth white buttocks in his palms and pulled her open loins up tighter 
against him. Slowly he guided his hotly throbbing hardness into the wet open 
slit of her hair-lined cunt, moving it back and forth, up and down, until it 
was well insinuated within the heated fleshy furrow. Knowing he was driving 
her almost insane with desire, he began a little tantalizing sawing motion, 
and sensed her pussy growing hotter and wetter with every passing second. 
Her grinding buttocks began a more urgent rotation up against his heated 
loins while the head of his massive cock scraped the erect bud of her tiny 
clitoris. 

Finally, the panting brunette gasped through her teeth at him. "I ... I 
can't stand it any longer, my lover ... I've got to have it in me. Please 
... please fuck me now. I'll do anything you say if you only fuck me..." 

Her legs splayed out wide on either side of his body, their strong calves 
situating themselves against the back of his thighs as she tried to draw him 
tighter into her. 

He kissed her tenderly, almost a brush against her warmly moist lips, and 
lowering his hand, guided his now aching cock downward between her 
passion-moistened cunt lips. She trembled all over and cried out as her 
feverish loins lurched upward at him, the moist open mouth,, of her pleading 
cunt seeking desperately the blood-filled head of his lust-hardened flesh. 

Mark grunted in his own passion, feeling the silken hairs of her frantically 
searching vagina grazing his aching cock from her erotic movements, and he 
knew trying to hold back was useless for him any longer. He sucked in his 
breath and thrust his hips forward, feeling the wetly throbbing mouth of her 
impatient vagina accepting and then absorbing his throbbing penis right up 
into her belly with a slight suction sound. Her deeper cuntal muscles 
immediately set to work on the long hard length of his hotly pulsating cock. 

Oh Christ, he thought, he'd never had anything like this! Her hot little 
cunt sheath was squeezing him like an automatic milking machine. He wouldn't 
last ten seconds this way. He tried to establish a rhythm, racing his long 
thick cock the full length of her passage, but her sucking pussy flesh was 
drawing heavily at the lining of his sperm-filled testicles. His heavy balls 
slapped hard against the upturned cheeks of her rounded ass, and he felt his 
rectum constrict. Good God, he thought in near panic, he was going to cum 
already! 

"It's all right, darling," she whispered up at him, into his face, her 
tongue laving his lips, his nose, his eyes. "Cum hard this time. Fuck into 
me deep! It's all right. Cum! Cum! Cum! deep up inside me. Cum now." She 
drew back her legs, thrusting her bucking loins up at him, making her wildly 
clasping pussy available to his wildest lust-crazed thrusts. 

"God! I can't help it!" he whimpered down at her. 

"It's all right! Fuck me hard! Cum! Cum way up deep in my belly! Trust me, 
darling lover! Cum! Cum!" 

And he did, his wildly pistoning cock lurching and jerking like some insane 
wild beast he had no control over, squirting his gushing sperm deep up into 
the depths of her sucking womb in spasmodic gushes that seemed to rack his 
whole body as he pumped it into her like a raging uncontrolled river of 
lust. 

He heard himself wail uncontrollably, and as he gasped out his pleasure, he 
had the strange feeling that she did also, for surely she cried out like a 
woman in orgasm, and her vagina milked at his spewing cock with a thousand 
tiny fingers as she writhed and squirmed beneath him with frantic bodily 
gestures of participating enjoyment. 

He fell on top of her because he couldn't hold himself erect. He had, or she 
had, sapped the strength, the life from him. He collapsed and she caught him 
in her arms and held him there. 

"God almighty ... I couldn't help it!" he blurted down at her, his breathing 
coming in short heavy rasps. 

"It's all right, lover. It's all right," she said softly. "I understand. It 
happens to all of us ... I mean, all of you." She laughed lightly. "In fact, 
it makes me quite proud. It means you were susceptible to my charms." 

Mark rolled off of her onto his back and lay still a moment. God, he 
couldn't remember an orgasm that had drained him that way. "God, God, the 
moment it went in I was dead." He continued to breathe heavily. "I have to 
hang my head and apologize..." 

"You have to have a fresh drink, that's what you have to do," Sara said, 
hopping from the bed and going to a corner cabinet. "No ice in here, lover, 
but there's something else. Ever drink Pernod ... I mean the real absinthe 
Pernod?" 

"I ... I don't know. I'll be happy with anything with you." He felt like 
some kind of failure, even though she was working at proving him different. 
The insane point of the whole damned thing was that she evidently liked him; 
no, wanted him. So, what did he have to lose? Now that the sex was past, he 
could give it some thought sensibly. 

"Do you really mean I've got your husband's account?" he asked suddenly. "I 
mean, I'm a big boy. I can take the bitter with the better." 

She came over to the bed, her lithely sensuous body gliding down and 
jiggling properly. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him the glass 
of greenish-yellow liquid. He tasted it, liked its refreshing licorice 
flavor, and drank heavily. His throat was dry. He felt like a perfect ass. 

"Of course, you've got it," she answered softly. "Nothing has changed, 
lover. You're still my protege, my lover-boy. And we can get a lot more 
accounts for you, if Peter says so." 

"Peter?" he gulped, right after draining his glass, and she scooped it up to 
go back and refill it. "Why the hell should he say so? Why should he say 
anything? I may be some kind of nut, but here I am in here making love to 
his wife while he's working. Can you give any reason why he should suddenly 
become a top fan of mine?" 

Sara returned, handing him his glass. He swallowed a portion of it. She 
folded herself onto the bed, then leaned back, spreading herself out 
seductively, her succulent breasts firm and full, her sperm-covered thighs 
drawn up to protect the sight of her enticing pelvic area. Mark stared at 
her. Good God, she was so fucking lovely he was beginning to get a hard-on 
again. Already! 

"You've missed the whole point of Peter's and my being together," she said 
softly, swirling her glass so that the liquid within sloshed high at the 
edges of the glass. "We understand ... we know the needs and fulfillments 
every person has individually. We know about variety and the spice of life, 
as they say. It's made our marriage solid, Mark lover, solid! Example: Peter 
knows that you're here with me this afternoon, that you and I will have 
sex...'fuck', if you'd like it in the vernacular. He also knows that when he 
comes home I'll be here if he wants me. Or, if he's suddenly had an itching 
toward a Jani Adams, that I'll understand, and won't expect to see him for a 
day or two or three. Does that surprise you, lover?" 

Mark raised up on his elbow and gulped at his glass. Christ, yes, he was 
surprised, and more than a little bit. What the hell had he gotten himself 
into? No use denying that Sara Cortland captivated him, but that was 
understandable. She'd captivate a cigar-store Indian. 

Suddenly, he felt her hand moving along his thigh and slipping beneath his 
recently emptied testicles, cradling them in her hand as if she were 
weighing them as she watched his face. 

"I intend that you'll be a sought-after man in financial circles, Mark 
Andrews ... lover," she said, smiling into his face from where she lay on 
her elbow, her one hand tenderly fondling the loose sac that hung between 
his thighs. "And I also Intend that all should know you belong to me. Are we 
making any contact, my love?" 

Mark felt his flaccid cock give a lurch. The heat from the palm of her hand 
spread upwards through his satiated loins pleasantly and he gulped at his 
drink. 

He licked his lips. "Are you intending that I should jump through hoops, 
little girl?" 

"Does that help your sex drive?" 

"I don't know. It's never come to that," he answered her flatly. 

Sara smiled. "I'll never cut you, lover ... if you don't cut me." 

Mark smiled back at her. "That sounds like a reasonable deal." 

Sara kept playing with his bloated testicles, and his awakening penis 
continued to grow. She hadn't touched it yet. She was content in just 
watching it jerk into increasing hardness. Finally, she said: "But...." 

"But?" 

"I cut awfully easy. My thin skin, I suppose." 

Mark studied her. A strong grain of excitement had begun to build inside him 
because his pulsing penis was getting hard once more. He'd never known what 
it was to come back so soon with the same woman. The very thought was 
fascinating him and peaking his ego. This time, it would be different. He 
was certain of it. He raised his glass and drained it. 

"I suggest you get us something to drink," he said, reaching over and 
cupping her nakedly quivering breast. 

"You didn't answer me," Sara said, taking his glass. 

Mark smiled. "I'll be anything you want me to be ... lover." 

She groaned loudly and kissed him, then moved to the bar. He watched her, 
the movements of her undulating white buttocks exciting him. So that was the 
name of the game, he thought. He was an amateur, but maybe, just maybe, he'd 
learn ... given time. 

Sara returned with their drinks, but set them on the night stand, then 
pushed him over onto his back and climbed above him on all fours, hovering 
above his continually hardening penis. 

"I've waited long enough, lover," she said, stroking his resurrected cock 
between the flats of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused 
his muscular loins to stir in a little undulating response. Then, she 
brought her mouth down again on his hardening penis, and Mark sucked in his 
breath as for the second time she enclosed the whole of his sensitive 
cock-head between her velvety lips in a warm moist pressure. He watched her 
lipstick-reddened lips tighten elastically around the rubbery tip just below 
the rim, trapping it completely inside the heated cavern of her sucking 
mouth. 

"Mmmmmm," he groaned, lifting his head from the bed and staring down at her 
cock-contorted face. The sight of his pulsating shaft sunk halfway between 
her tightly ovaled lips had brought him back to complete readiness. She 
licked and bit at his shaft gently, taking obvious delight in her power to 
bring it to life again after its total collapse. 

Mark felt the fires of desire fast rekindling in his loins. She continued to 
nibble for a moment longer, swirling her slippery tongue around and around 
until she was satisfied his huge staff was restored to its full length and 
power, and then she crawled off him, falling quickly onto her back and 
spreading her legs wide before his eyes. 

"Now, lover ... fuck me! Oh God, fuck me!" 

He wasted no time. He came to rest directly between her lewdly open thighs 
and reached down between them to make the coupling. She was ready and there 
was no need for any pre-play. He could feel the moistly heated opening of 
her aroused cunt throbbing in urgent anticipation as he guided his thick 
ready cock straight into her. He paused for a moment to part her pubic hair, 
wet now from their first union, with the head of his pulsating shaft, and 
then, with one long smooth stroke, he rammed into her all the way to her 
cervix. There was not the slightest resistance, and the smooth wet walls of 
her steaming little cunt clamped around his invading cock in a moist 
firmness that almost set him off again. 

"Ohhhhhhhhh," she moaned and crooned as he felt her entire insides flowering 
open to receive him deep down in the secret crevices of her receptive womb. 
She began to groan and murmur incoherently as he began right off to fuck 
viciously into her, gritting his teeth with his own building passion. Her 
sensually naked body followed and began to move in wild abandoned jerks 
beneath him. 

"Ooooooh God, lover ... Ooooohhh ... so good ... your cock, so good! Harder 
... fuck it harder! Yes ... yesssss ... like that!" she whimpered as if in 
anguish, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling his lean muscular 
chest down tight against the soft whiteness of her flattened breasts. 

Mark rammed his lust hardened cock up even deeper into the warm resilient 
channel of her sperm-lubricated cunt, feeling the whole of her belly opening 
receptively to his pistoning strokes. Her supple young body jerked and 
twisted, and she moaned ceaselessly, her face contorted in ecstatic passion. 
Her mouth moved with spasmodic little tremors and her nostrils flared in the 
untamed animal desire that had seized hold of her whole being as though it 
were writhing in the throes of a convulsion. Her forehead had suddenly 
become coated with a film of glistening sweat that had broken out beneath 
her mussed dark hair. It was as if nothing could stop her wild race for 
fulfillment now, and Mark fucked like an insane man to end it for her. 

"Oh Oooohh God yesss ... do something! Shove your finger in my ass, lover! 
Shove it in, please!" she cried blindly up into the room as he cupped his 
hands under her wildly pumping ass-cheeks and raised them up off the bed for 
greater access to her pleading loins. Then, he reached down between her 
frantically trembling buttocks with the tip of his outstretched middle 
finger for her puckered little anus ... until he found it. 

A tiny rivulet of warm moisture had dribbled down her widespread cuntal 
mouth where his now throbbing penis was sliding sleekly in and out. Her 
liquid passion dampened the tightly constricted anal hole, lubricating it 
sufficiently for his experimental probes; then, he pushed hard, feeling it 
give almost reluctantly, until all of a sudden the elastic nether ring 
opened before his pressure; his finger popped smoothly inside the rubbery 
soft channel and slid up to the first knuckle joint. Her body jerked forward 
beneath him, and she gasped out her pain. 

"Ooohhh God! It hurts!" 

He thrust again to the second joint, and her feet jerked out erotically in 
the air above them, her toes curling inward spasmodically. 

"Aggghhhhh! Oooooohhhh Christ .--. . yesssss ... yessssss!" she groaned and, 
in spite of the obvious pain, he felt her suddenly begin screwing her 
trembling ass-cheeks back onto his finger until it was sunk to the very palm 
of his hand. Instantly, he began to rotate it around deep in the hot spongy 
depths of her rectum. 

Mark now fucked into her tight little pussy with all the strength of his 
hips and thighs, and could feel the smooth wet flesh of her fiery cunt 
clasping and unclasping like a warm sucking mouth around his hotly pulsating 
cock-head. He fucked into her from the tips of his toes and rammed the last 
thick inch of long hard male flesh thundering up into her wide-stretched 
vagina, raising a new ecstatic wail from the naked brunette's lips as he 
maintained the same rhythm with his pumping finger deep in her rectum. Her 
nostrils flared again and her eyes, open wide now, gazed glassy-eyed and 
unseeing up into his face, a wild and unsatiated desire burning lustfully in 
them. 

"Aaauuuuggghhh, God!" she grunted as he buffeted her in perfect cadence 
between his finger and ever expanding penis, dually ravishing her wetly 
flowing genitals, a masochistic pleasure filling her from her loins to the 
top of her head. Her arms that had been wrapped tightly around his neck with 
her nails digging frantically into the flesh of his back, slithered down and 
sadistically dug into his buttocks as he pounded down into her unprotected 
vaginal orifice. 

Wet smacking noises resounded obscenely through the room with each brutal 
pile-driving lunge he made into her while his finger skewered into her 
tightly clasping anus with unceasing fury. Her flesh was slippery from the 
sweat pouring out of her gyrating body, and her head flailed uncontrollably 
back and forth on the coverlet beneath her. Her mouth had fallen wide open 
in ecstatic abandon; she had become something almost inhuman as she twisted 
and churned, spreading her legs wide apart and jerking them up to her 
shoulders, egging him on. 

"Ooo! Oh ... deeper, lover! Harder! Fuck me, fuck me hard, lover!" she 
begged, her climax obviously nearing, and Mark breathed a silent prayer of 
gratitude. 

He pulled his finger from her rectum, making a lewd sucking sound, and she 
swung her strong smooth thighs up and wound them around his back, waving her 
naked ass-cheeks wantonly from side to side and spiraling her moistly 
clasping pussy up and down on his thick jerking cock. 

"Oh God! Oh Christ! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" she suddenly coughed at him 
with a gasp of intense passion, locking her ankles in a death grip high up 
behind his laboring back. At the same time her arms snaked around his neck, 
her wet open mouth smashing against his own, as her wantonly aroused body 
arched and she held tightly to him, not moving but quivering and jerking in 
a pulsating rhythm that spewed her orgastic fluid out around his 
hard-driving cock and down the wide-split crevice of her ass-cheeks, soaking 
his swaying balls as they slapped hard into her puckering anus. 

Although he had been drained dry only a short while before and wondered if 
he'd be able to cum again ever, the wildness of Sara's orgasm had started a 
slow aching pressure deep in Mark's sperm-laden balls again, and he gripped 
the supple cheeks of her still madly rotating ass and squeezed with crushing 
strength, feeling her cringe as great gasps of passion began spewing from 
his own throat. 

"Oh ... oh, oh, oh," he grunted suddenly increasing the viciousness of his 
strokes, his pelvis smacking brutally against the ragged pink flanges of her 
orgasming cunt. His long throbbing cock drove deep down into the furthest 
hidden recesses of her insanely quivering belly and dimly he heard her 
screeching out her second ... and then her third, orgasm. 

He felt himself cumming and, throwing his hands down behind her knees, 
shoved her sleek trembling thighs up over her shoulders, grinding down into 
her wetly yielding cunt as far as he could go, raising groans of quivering 
passion from her lips still locked tightly to his. He gasped into the 
moistness of her mouth, felt the cum exploding from his churning testicles, 
heard her whimpering cry of delight as she tightened her arms around his 
neck, and then with a soul-shattering grunt he erupted into her, spewing his 
hot liquid sperm deep up into the warm depths of her greedy little belly. 

And then, there was no more, and he collapsed, rolling off her onto his back 
with a deep, heavy sigh of exhaustion. 

"My God, lover, you were beautiful," Sara said, raising up over him to kiss 
him tenderly on the mouth. "You were absolutely beautiful, really!" 

"After I got my bearings," said Mark, secretly pleased with his own 
performance. "But it was you, baby, not me. That magnificent body of yours, 
and knowing how to use it..." 

"Mmmmmmmm," she cooed, snuggling close to him. "You say the nicest things, 
lover. I'll just bet you and I are going to have a great time together." 

Mark smiled over at her. God, he could still hardly believe it was all true. 
All this and heaven too, he thought. 

"You can bet on that, honey," he said, slipping his arm beneath her and 
bringing her nakedly trembling body tight in against him. "You can bet every 
cent of your money on that." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

A real elegance existed in the immaculate decor of Marilyn Drew's luxurious 
apartment, taking Lisa's breath away when she first entered. It was done 
entirely in white, from carpet to ceiling, furniture and appointments, even 
white bric-a-brac. Occasionally, an edge, a line, or a thread of gold 
appeared in contrast, but was immediately lost in the pureness of the 
overall decor. The combined effect of the front room, where Lisa stood in 
unabashed awe of her surroundings, was to give an atmosphere of antiquity, 
of serene and almost impersonal Greek-like intelligence. 

Lisa had gotten in touch with Marilyn Drew less than a week after her 
unfortunate experience with Kurt Mertz. It had not taken the unpublished 
authoress long to realize that Mertz was going to be insatiable in his 
sexual demands of her, and yet unwilling, or unable, to help her with her 
book. She tried not to chastise herself too severely for her mistake that 
night after he'd invited her to dinner, though she did feel terribly guilty 
about it. She tried to tell herself that she'd been naive, susceptible, but 
nothing more, a victim of his smooth talk and her own desire for success. 
Still, in the back of her mind, she could not escape the realization that, 
far from being a passive victim, she had ultimately been aroused and 
sexually satiated by Mertz's grotesque seduction that evening. For this 
reason, more than any other, she had refused to accept his subsequent 
invitations, and she'd soon found the manuscript she'd given him returned to 
her mailbox, with a cutting note to the effect that, apparently the book had 
not been as good as he'd originally thought. 

Lisa had only waited a day after that before calling Marilyn Drew. The young 
divorcee remembered the imposing woman clearly from her dinner at the Four 
Corners, and hoped that Miss Drew's offer to read her manuscript had not 
been idle conversation. On the phone, when Lisa had finally summoned up the 
nerve to call. Miss Drew had seemed to remember her clearly, and had 
accepted the manuscript with alacrity. Lisa had expected she'd take at least 
a week to get to the book, and was more than surprised when she received a 
call the very next day, setting up an appointment to discuss the manuscript 
with her. 

And so, here she was, standing in the entry hall to Marilyn Drew's 
abundantly luxurious apartment. It took up one whole floor of an imposing 
building only blocks from Washington Square in Greenwich Village, and had 
its own elevator stop, which opened right into the front hall. A maid had 
met Lisa as she'd stepped out of the elevator and had disappeared into the 
apartment to announce her arrival. Soon she was back, motioning Lisa to 
follow her. Lisa did so with her heart in her throat, but certain of at 
least one thing; at least Marilyn Drew was a woman, and she wouldn't have to 
worry about fending off some male agent's clumsy advances. 

The uniformed maid led Lisa through the enchanting living room, and into the 
archway of a pair of open double doors, the entrance-way to the smaller and 
more intimate room where Miss Drew evidently worked. Lisa saw the alluring 
woman before she looked up, gowned in white silk, diaphanous and flowing, a 
near replica of the stunning costume she'd worn that night at the Four 
Corners. What appeared to be several manuscripts rested on a small table 
beside her as she reclined leisurely on a love seat, her raven black hair 
tumbling long and freely about her shoulders, her huge collie, Duke, gazing 
up at Lisa from where he lay at her feet. The maid announced Lisa before the 
woman looked up. 

"Lisa Andrews, dear, do come in," she said without rising, her lovely smile 
warm and welcoming. 

"Thank you. I'm not too early, I hope," the young blonde replied, noting 
quickly that the room was a combination study and lounge, embellished in the 
same chaste hue and manner, with a large circular bed-like couch at the far 
end. 

"No, not at all," Marilyn Drew assured her, while her sparkling onyx eyes 
swept the length of her beautiful blonde guest with one approving, if 
calculating, glance. "You may leave us, Margot ... unless Lisa would like a 
drink. I never touch it myself, but you go right ahead, dear." 

"No ... no, thank you," Lisa said, turning to the attractive young girl 
whose chick black uniform seemed almost in harsh contrast to the resplendent 
surroundings. 

"Come sit," Marilyn Drew invited, motioning toward a chair only a few feet 
from, and facing her. Lisa did. She was experiencing a certain 
stomach-chilling spasm of anticipation that caused her to tremble nervously. 

"I do a great deal of my work right her," the exotic woman said in her 
throaty voice, gesturing at their surroundings with a slender and delicate 
hand. "It's so much more conducive to accomplishment than a stuffy office, 
don't you think, dear?" 

"It's beautiful," said Lisa, feeling free to look about her once more. 

"And so are you," Marilyn Drew said huskily. 

Lisa's eyes came back to her quickly with embarrassment. She didn't know 
what to say. 

The statuesque literary agent smiled. "I can help you, dear. I know what 
you're after, and what you must go through to get it," she said levelly. 
"But it's the same for all of us; good things don't come easily. We must 
give to receive ... it's part of life. Have you learned that yet, dear?" 

Lisa's nervous apprehension had suddenly increased. The woman was obviously 
referring to her stupid affair with Kurt Mertz. Was she guessing, or did she 
actually know the truth? She felt her cheeks flushing. 

Marilyn Drew leaned forward and patted her knee affectionately, her smile 
warm and understanding. "Never mind, pet," she said softly. "We women have 
all been hustled down the road of humiliation before. You mustn't condemn 
yourself." Her hand rested warmly on Lisa's knee. "Remember what I said to 
you at the Four Corners? That we females must stick together?" 

Lisa nodded, trembling lightly as Marilyn's exciting eyes seemed to 
penetrate to her very soul. She sensed the increasing pressure of the 
slenderly delicate hand on her leg, and then the stunning woman straightened 
and leaned back in her corner of the love seat once more. 

"And so we shall, dear," the agent said, almost regally. "Now, tell me all 
about yourself: your childhood, boy friends,-likes and dislikes, wants and 
needs. You see, dear, I must know a client almost intimately to be of any 
real help to them. Later, over dinner, we'll discuss your book and our plans 
for it, and after ... well, let's just take it as it comes, eh? Now, you go 
ahead, darling, just start talking." 

Lisa felt quite compelled to obey her, the woman's dominating personality 
seeming to subjugate her. She began talking nervously at first, but 
gradually with increasing confidence as she gave a brief resume of her life, 
of Mark and their short marriage, surprising herself as she unfolded the 
whole history of her frigidity and its cause, but opening up even more as 
Marilyn Drew expressed her sympathy and understanding. Time seemed to race 
by as they talked, and Lisa became less and less inhibited, enchanted with 
the stunning woman's tender insight. 

They dined by candlelight in the small dining room, then returned to the 
study where Margot served them a sweet coffee and was dismissed for the 
night. Actually, Lisa's story had kept them in conversation, and they had 
yet to get to her book, but they had reached that point when the woman 
suddenly got to her feet and crossed the room to her desk. 

"I never drink," she said over her shoulder, "But I do have other vices." 

She smiled beautifully and Lisa watched her. The beauty of the woman 
entranced her. She obviously wore nothing beneath the sheer gown of clinging 
white silk, and her breasts and pubic area became enticingly visible when 
the folds of silk fell just right, or became molded to her lushly curvaceous 
body. Unaccountably, Lisa felt a mixture of excitement and revulsion at the 
sensuous stimulation the sight was causing her. 

The exotic agent returned with a small silver tray of what looked like thin 
brown cigarettes, and held it out in front of her. 

"What are they?" the lovely blonde girl questioned. 

Marilyn smiled. "You mustn't question the hostess, dear," she said lightly. 
"Try one, you'll like it." 

Lisa took it and Marilyn lit it for her with an ivory based table lighter, 
after which she lit her own. As the woman returned to her love seat, Lisa 
purposely sniffed at the sweet-smelling smoke drifting up from the lighted 
end. 

"It almost reminds me of some kind of incense," she said in all innocence. 

"Try a few puffs. If you find it unpleasant, put it out." 

Lisa dragged at it. 

"Slowly, dear, at first," the woman said. "Like this..." and she drew in 
gently, but deeply, inhaling in the same manner. 

Lisa did as she was instructed, finding the taste strange but not 
unpleasant. She repeated the act, taking more and drawing it deeper down 
into her lungs, holding it there for a few seconds in the manner of her 
hostess. Neither spoke for a passing of minutes while Lisa continued to 
experiment. After a few inhalations, she could barely notice it going down, 
it was so smooth. Finally, she took a long, deep measure of the smoke and 
held it as long as was Marilyn Drew across from her. 

"It's marijuana, isn't it?" Lisa heard herself say, but her voice sounded a 
distance off. 

"Hashish, dear ... the very best." The woman's voice came to her seemingly 
from a distance, also. "Do you like it?" 

"I-I really can't say," Lisa laughed lightly, feeling strangely soft and 
wonderful. The longer she held the smoke in her lungs, the more elated she 
seemed to become. She saw Marilyn's beautiful face smiling at her from what 
suddenly seemed way off. She was such a beautiful, beautiful woman, and she 
was speaking. 

" ... will require considerable re-writing, but I'll help you with it. We 
can work here, darling. You can move in with me, and we'll just spend all of 
our time together until it's finished ... you, Duke and me ... it's going to 
be heavenly, dear, ... just the three of us..." 

Lisa saw her rise, almost float to her feet, and she was coming toward her, 
holding out her hands. Slowly, Lisa rose to her own feet, feeling as if she 
were drifting ceilingward, a momentary fleeting trace of apprehension 
endeavoring to make itself felt, but passing immediately in the aftermath of 
warmth the cigarette had spread throughout her entire being. 

The apparition seemed to engulf her as suddenly she sensed the delicately 
slender hands on her breasts, causing a melange of mixed emotions within her 
mind and body, yet she had no power nor desire to resist. She felt as if 
mesmerized in her state of delicious intoxication as the delicately 
exquisite face moved closer to hers and its soft mouth closed down upon her 
own, tenderly, warmly ... and ultimately, with a growing urgency. 

Her own mouth felt strangely soft in response, and she sensed her lips being 
pressed apart by a sweet-tasting tongue slipping between them into her mouth 
as Marilyn's stomach and loins began an intimate undulating motion. 

The young girl was scarcely aware of the motion, had been scarcely aware of 
anything since the first few puffs of hashish had stilled any awareness that 
what was happening to her was not a dream, but reality. As though she were 
in fact simply having a lovely dream, the thought never crossed the naive 
young writer's mind that Marilyn Drew, even though she was a woman, might be 
interested in her only for the reasons that the obesely repulsive Kurt Mertz 
had been. 

"You are a beautiful girl, Lisa dear," the husky voice whispered hotly into 
her mouth. "And I am going to help you be what you want to be, just as you 
must help me be what I am." 

"I-I ... what do you want ... me to do?" Lisa managed, slipping even more 
into the ecstasy of her dream world. 

Marilyn kissed her again, and Lisa met the tongue this time with her own as 
she felt gentle hands caressing her throbbing young breasts and moving over 
her body with an intimate tenderness that seemed to fill her very heart with 
affection for this exotic older woman. She felt the hands stroking her 
suddenly tingling buttocks and drawing her in closer to the protective 
embrace. 

"I'm going to undress you now, darling," the smoky voice breathed, and the 
drugged young blonde said nothing, as though she hadn't heard, merely glided 
across the room with Marilyn to the circular couch where expert fingers 
began to move excitingly over her, removing her clothing quickly. 

Again, a brief sensation of repugnance flittered through Lisa, but she would 
not let it dwell there. Something horribly fascinating, strangely forbidden 
and sensuously beautiful was happening to her, and she wanted it, whatever 
it was, to continue. And then, she was suddenly naked, and so was the 
magnificent older woman before her. The cool air was bathing her fevered 
body, bringing her ruby nipples to a rigid hardness as Marilyn pressed 
closer to her, gently grinding her own ivory nakedness against Lisa's supple 
flesh, their burgeoning nipples touching, their tautly erect breasts 
flattening against one another's, their smooth thighs meeting as did the 
soft silken thatches of black and golden pussy hair up between their 
entwined legs. 

Lisa gasped with the erotic tremor that rippled over her now highly 
sensitive flesh and through her drug-dazed mind, as the exotic woman's hands 
caressed her nakedly exposed buttocks, spread them open and tenderly slipped 
between to stroke her tight little anus with a knowing and gentle finger. 
Once more, Lisa trembled with forbidden delight, and suddenly Marilyn's 
hands slithered down her rounded hips and smooth tapering thighs as the 
older woman dropped to her knees before the young girl and began kissing her 
inner thighs, working slowly upward to the golden-haired flanges of her 
innocently trembling little cunt. 

Marilyn Drew's onyx eyes sparkled like gems as they locked on the narrow 
pink slit where already a tiny dewdrop of moisture glistened from the 
drugged girl's building passion. Greedily, she flicked out her tongue-tip, 
swiping its pungent deliciousness up into her eager mouth; then, in one 
lick, she drew her tongue from the smooth cleft between Lisa's tensed 
buttocks, lightly tracing the thin line separating her moistening vaginal 
lips upward to its very peak, and felt the tremor ripple over the gorgeous 
girl's salaciously naked body. With her thumbs, she spread apart the fleshy 
pink pussy lips until Lisa's hooded clitoris came into full view before her; 
then, she expertly swirled her tongue around it, smiling as Lisa moaned 
aloud. 

Marilyn quickly pressed the trembling young blonde backwards to the bed and, 
as she fell onto it, Lisa felt her thighs immediately being raised back up 
toward her shoulders. She lifted her head to watch the lustfully smiling, 
woman's face bury itself into her helpless loins, and felt the long black 
tresses grazing against the soft flesh of her belly as the female agent 
began to lick and suck at her shimmering cunt with a skilled fury and 
hunger. 

Lisa's soft cloud of a few moments before had begun to wear thin, and she 
found herself wishing she had smoked all of the cigarette, or had another. 
The lewdly exciting sensations Marilyn Drew was causing to tingle in her 
undulating loins and flutter through her abdomen were breathtaking, yet even 
as she began to writhe and squirm beneath the hotly licking tongue and 
eagerly sucking lips, revulsion toward this obscene lesbian performance was 
growing within her. Her upbringing and natural instincts were in direct 
opposition, although she well knew that such perversions went on in the 
world all around her, she had never in her remotest dreams believed that she 
could be a party to such an act. But here she lay, on her back with her legs 
raised high and her thighs widespread beneath this beautiful creature whose 
mouth and tongue were bringing her unbelievably forbidden pleasure. Success! 
That was the important thing, wasn't it? Success! Dear God, letting this 
woman make her strange perverted kind of love to her was worse than what she 
had gone through before with that ugly brute, Kurt Mertz! 

Oh God! Now Marilyn was sucking her pulsating clitoris and nipping at it 
with her pretty white teeth, sending almost violent spasms of pleasure 
spiraling through her. It was near maddening ... erotically maddening. Then, 
the lesbian literary agent's rapier-like tongue was sliding smoothly in and 
out of the warmly wet walls of Lisa's desire-moistened vagina, and the young 
blonde knew her traitorous cunt was dilating in lewd eagerness to the 
obscene lovemaking. Abruptly, she felt her buttocks being raised by those 
slender hands cupping the fully rounded cheeks so lustfully, and she 
voluntarily held her knees tight to her breasts as she felt the delicious 
tongue trail downward through the smooth crevice between her exposed 
buttocks to her excitedly puckering anus. Lisa wanted to scream in rapture 
as she felt its wet little tip penetrating only a fraction of an inch into 
her anal ring, even though she tried to help by relaxing to the fullest 
degree. Once more, the tongue returned to her now feverishly throbbing cunt, 
sliding up into her as though it was a penis, then flicking back to her 
maddeningly erect clitoris as the pressure built in her aching loins. 

Lisa remembered how she had cum with Kurt Mertz, the first time in her life, 
and she realized these were the same mounting sensations she had experienced 
then. Suddenly, her whole mind and body wanted that, wanted to cum, wanted 
the intoxicating release that would sweep through her, then... 

But, Marilyn raised her head and smiled. Slowly, Lisa lowered her legs. 
"Come down and kiss me," the woman said, her beautiful face glistening from 
the cuntal secretions. 

Lisa sat upright and wrapped her arms around the agent's long slender neck 
and planted her lips on the moistly glistening mouth that tasted of her own 
wet vagina. The reaction set off wild sensations coursing through her 
drugged young mind. 

Marilyn pressed her away. "It's time for another cigarette," she whispered 
huskily. "Yes, yes..." 

"We'll share it ... just as we're going to share many things to come, my 
beautiful, golden goddess." 

Lisa watched the movements of the statuesque, yet fully feminine body cross 
the room. Her eyes clung to the joggle of her naked buttocks and a strange 
new excitement tingled within her. She doubted that she had ever fully 
realized the beauty in a woman's body, the erotic enchantment of it, the 
desire it could create in another female. 

Marilyn returned, dragging deep and holding the marijuana smoke in her lungs 
before she lay down on the bed beside and extended the cigarette. Lisa took 
it and inhaled. 

God! It was unexplainable in words. How did one describe rapture? She sucked 
deep and held it, the velvety softness immediately swooping down to envelop 
her. She handed the cigarette back to Marilyn and simultaneously reached for 
the older woman's full breast with her other hand. 

"I think you're beginning to come to me," Marilyn said, smiling knowingly. 

"Yes ... oh, yes," Lisa murmured dazedly, moving close to the other's warm 
naked body and trying to cuddle against it. 

Marilyn took the young blonde into her arms and smiled down in triumph. She 
placed the cigarette between her own lips and ran her hand down over Lisa's 
soft belly and down to the girl's wetly waiting cunt, drawing a finger up 
between its puffy, lust-engorged lips. 

Lisa whimpered and tried to move closer, and Marilyn took her own breast and 
pressed the huge nipple into Lisa's surprised mouth. She began to suck 
hungrily as her own hand came up to hold it. 

"You like that?" Marilyn whispered. 

"Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmm," the young divorcee moaned. 

"Here, pet, you need a couple more drags before we put this out." 

Lisa raised up and took the cigarette, dragging deeply and holding the 
enticing smoke in her lungs as long as she could without breathing. 

Then, Marilyn took it from her and put it out. A moment later, she had 
straddled Lisa's prostrate form, moving up until her nakedly rounded 
buttocks flattened the young blonde girl's breasts to her chest. Lisa looked 
up at her knowingly, expressing no emotion openly. Marilyn raised up until 
her dew-dropped pussy was directly over Lisa's open mouth, and the young 
girl's tongue flicked out obediently to spread the black pubic hair by 
licking up through the length of her seducer's warmly perfumed slit. 

"Unnnnngggghhhhh!" Marilyn groaned with pleasure. 

Lisa reached up with her hands and caught tight to the beautiful woman's 
hips, pulling her naked voluptuousness down closer to her mouth as she ran 
her tongue through the flowering cunt ... exploring clitoris, vagina, anus, 
as her own desires continued to mount within the filmy rapture clouding her 
brain. 

Marilyn scrambled off her suddenly. "You know, there's a very hungry male 
involved with us," she said. 

Lisa could no longer think intelligently through the fog of her drug-induced 
euphoria, but merely stared. "Duke," Marilyn said, her eyes not leaving the 
youthfully naked form spread out before her. "We must never forget Duke. 
He's my love when all else is disgustingly sickening." 

Lisa endeavored with difficulty to try and categorize her statement. It made 
no sense, nor did any of this really, for she was entirely out of her mind 
and she knew it. She was completely overwhelmed with drug paralysis, 
beautiful though it was; but there was reality somewhere ... soon ... at 
least, in the morning. 

"You are golden," the scheming agent said, interrupting her thoughts. "Duke 
prefers the blondes to the brunettes, they're so much like him. Darling, 
turn over on your knees, with your beautiful ass in the air." 

"Wh-what...? " 

"Turn over!" Marilyn commanded, and Lisa did, onto her knees as ordered, 
raising her naked white buttocks in the air. 

"Duke! Come!" 

Lisa felt the weight of the dog leap onto the bed, yet, she didn't see him 
because he remained behind her, and as her belly constricted and she looked 
sideways at Marilyn's face, she saw the woman's eyes gleam as she pointed at 
her upraised buttocks. Lisa blanched as she suddenly, through her drugged 
senses, realized what the strange Marilyn Drew intended! She tried to move, 
tried with all her will power to force her hashish controlled limbs to 
respond to her commands, to raise her off this bed, to carry her out of this 
apartment to safety: and yet it was impossible! Try as she might, it only 
took the slightest pressure from her seductress' hand to force her to remain 
in her lewdly kneeling position on the bed. It was as though she were 
completely paralyzed by the potency of the strange drug she'd so unwittingly 
consumed. 

Lisa felt the warm air of Duke's breath sniffing at her proffered loins, and 
she looked to" Marilyn who was smiling vacantly. The kneeling young blonde 
wanted to scream, but suddenly she felt the dog's wet nose against her 
tightly puckered anus and the resulting sensations blocked everything else 
out. She felt Duke's long wet tongue snake out and lick moistly up and down 
the crevice between her ass-cheeks, taunting her tightly clenched anal ring. 
She tried to steel herself and had started to protest aloud when the 
beautiful collie began licking her defenselessly exposed vaginal slit. She 
felt his tongue running the full length of it, and then sensed Marilyn's 
hands on her leg. 

"Spread your legs wide apart ... farther!" the lesbian snapped. "Open your 
cunt to him." 

"My God! What are you...? " 

"Do as I tell you!" Marilyn ordered, and Lisa did without meaning to, 
without wanting to, out of a barely understood need and fear. 

Duke ran his moistly heated tongue the full length of her open loins, from 
the tightly-closed little star of her anus down beneath the sensitive nerve 
endings of her quivering cuntal lips, even to the top where his tongue 
lapped like velvet at her aroused clitorial bud. He repeated it time and 
again, his tongue laving through her hair-covered genitals with an expertise 
that showed he had done this a thousand times, spreading her open in the 
tenderest parts until she began to tremble at his hungry lapping and 
sniffling of her lewdly splayed loins. 

Once more, Lisa looked in speechless supplication to Marilyn Drew, realizing 
the futility of the gesture even as she did it, angry with her own self in 
her fluffy world as the exciting sensations she was beginning to perceive 
began to take command of her. 

My God! She couldn't let this despicably lewd thing happen to her! 

She whimpered aloud as Duke drew his long thick tongue the length of her 
quivering pussy furrow. Then, paradoxically, she tried to widen her knees a 
little farther to open the throbbing pink gap to him. His animal tongue 
thrust up into her moist split like some cool wet cock ravishing her loins 
mercilessly. She moaned aloud as she saw Marilyn squirming down beneath her 
face and drawing her legs back to her breasts so that the raven-haired cunt 
was completely exposed to her. 

Suddenly, Lisa felt Duke mount her, his furry body crowding in toward her 
helpless buttocks, his forelegs clutching at her hips. The animal's lashing 
tongue had set her feverishly throbbing vagina afire with desire, and as she 
turned her head she caught the entire reflection of their obscene 
performance in a strategically placed wall mirror: the sight of the 
beautiful collie mounting the spread moons of her trembling white buttocks, 
and the sight of Marilyn lying on her back with her thighs pulled back in 
lewd presentation of her moist pink cunt to be licked, sent wild and 
lascivious sensations surging through Lisa's drug-saturated mind and body. 
The helpless young blonde saw the reflection of Duke's long scarlet penis 
shoot forth from its furry sheath, wet and hard, the tapered end slipping 
and dancing in the wet split of her eagerly trembling cunt, and she felt his 
strong animal body jerk against her as he tried to penetrate her vagina with 
his long pointed shaft. 

"Help him, pet," Marilyn said as she, too, watched glazed-eyed, in the 
mirror, her own hand moving down between her raised thighs as she slipped 
her probing index finger in and out of the desire-lubricated lips of her own 
contracting cunt. 

With an unrestrained moan, Lisa shifted her smooth round buttocks about in 
an effort to capture the dog's lengthening cock, the tension within her 
mounting to a near unbearable point. Oh God! She wanted that long slippery 
animal penis inside her ... had to have it up inside her belly before she 
went mad with her building need. She reached back, grasping the slippery 
organ and guided the pulsating tip of it to the mouth of her wetly waiting 
vagina. Immediately Duke thrust, spreading her tight little cunt open wider 
and wider as he hammered his long hot cock deep up into her eagerly 
squirming pussy. 

Marilyn watched in lewd fascination as the thick scarlet shaft slithered 
brutally forward until it was sunk to its hilt, Duke's hairy balls swinging 
between the young girl's widespread thighs. 

"Oh God!" Lisa moaned aloud, her eyes wide but glazed as the brute fucked 
into her from behind while she stared down at Marilyn's finger pistoning in 
and out of the pink vaginal furrow only inches from her face. "Ooooohhhh, 
ooooohhhhh, ooohhhhh," she chanted almost in relief, and she began to move 
backward rhythmically to meet the dog's powerful strokes into her wildly 
rejoicing pussy. 

Marilyn watched as if hypnotized, her fingers pummeling her own ecstatic 
cunt while her eyes locked on Lisa's beautifully contorted face, enraptured 
by the delicious fucking Duke was giving her. She watched the young writer's 
taut full breasts dancing and swaying beneath her nakedly writhing torso, 
keeping cadence with Duke's magnificent cock skewering deeper and deeper 
into her sweet little cunt from behind, a merciless piston of glistening 
animal flesh sinking to its full depths into the innocent young divorcee's 
belly. 

Suddenly, Marilyn entwined her fingers in Lisa's hair and pressed the young 
blonde's face downward into her burning loins. Without a second's delay, she 
felt the girl's quivering wet tongue begin to lick at her most sensitive 
flesh, felt ovaled lips suddenly begin sucking wildly at her clitoris, felt 
the wonderful length of Lisa's tongue darting up into her flowing vagina, 
slashing, swirling, sucking ... and she felt the hot irregular breaths 
coming in tight gasps against her pussy as the kneeling divorcee rotated her 
buttocks furiously, grinding them back against the collie like a bitch in 
heat. 

The older woman couldn't stand the erotic lewd sight any longer, nor hold 
back the climax that was about to erupt inside her wildly pulsing pussy from 
the beautiful mouthing of her cunt that Lisa was administering. She threw 
back her head and wailed deeply as the ecstatic bubble burst and waves of 
wanton pleasure shot through her loins and belly, causing her legs to jerk 
out spasmodically on either side of Lisa's golden head feasting at her 
loins. 

Suddenly, the young girl lifted her face and cried out a gurgling sound from 
deep in her chest. Her glazed eyes grew round and wide and disbelieving as 
she blurted: "Ooohhh God ... I can't stand it ... It's too much ... too 
much!" And her voice died in a strangled mixture of sob and sigh, her head 
twisting from side to side, her long blonde hair flailing wildly as she 
began the first spasms of orgasm, screwing her buttocks back onto the thick 
animal cock like a wanton slut on a Tijuana stage. 

Marilyn Drew watched in the mirror in silent triumph as Duke's tongue hung 
loosely from the mouth of his noble head, panting and dripping its saliva 
onto the smooth naked flesh of Lisa's humping back while he fucked into the 
insanely undulating buttocks from behind with savage fury. Then,, Lisa 
shrieked and slammed her ass back against the dog with a frantic jerk as 
simultaneously he thrust forward and his long ejaculating cock began to spew 
his animal sperm deep up into her belly with long hard spurts. Again, the 
young divorcee screamed, and her buttocks began to contract convulsively 
while Marilyn watched the mirror to see the combination animal-human 
orgasmic liquid ooze salaciously from the girl's tightly clenching little 
cunt still clasping and squeezing Duke's long cock. Thin rivulets of the 
sticky white fluid ran down the smooth white columns of her trembling thighs 
... and then, Lisa collapsed on top of Marilyn's loins, giving one last sigh 
of release as she passed out completely. 

Marilyn ran her hand through the entangled mass of silky, golden hair and 
smiled down at her. "You beautiful, lovely bitch," she whispered. "Oh, what 
wonderful times we three are going to have together." 

The lesbian literary agent was to be surprised, though, when she woke up a 
few hours later, to discover her new-found prize fled, without a trace, 
taking her manuscript with her. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Once back in her own apartment, Lisa Andrews came as close to committing 
suicide as anyone ever can, and it took all the distressed young divorcee's 
strength to keep from running to her bathroom, throwing open the medicine 
chest and consuming all its contents. But despite the horror, the utter 
disgust at what she'd allowed herself to be submitted to at Marilyn Drew's 
apartment, there was the smallest kernel of strength left at the core of her 
being, a tiny spark of decency and faith left in the young woman's heart 
which seemed to balance the desperately suicidal bent of her agonized mind. 

For two days she didn't leave her apartment, but merely lay on the bed, 
staring at the ceiling. Or she wandered around her tiny rooms in a daze, an 
uncomprehending pacing that seemed by its very mechanicalness to slowly wear 
away the awful ache that gnawed at her conscience and her soul. She knew 
instinctively, though she didn't think about it, that her life had reached 
its lowest ebb during those few hours with the perverse lesbian literary 
agent and her dog. That her monumental indiscretion was the ultimate result 
of her loneliness, her desperation, and her longing for a love which had 
been missing in her life ever since her divorce. There was no where else she 
could go; there were no lower depths to which she could sink. She felt as 
debased and utterly degraded as it is possible for a human being to feel. 

And yet, as all things must, even this terrible depression left her in time; 
and though the torture she'd undergone was to leave its mark for the rest of 
her life, still, after two days, she was gradually able to function again in 
something less than a comatose state. The one thought that she was left with 
at the end of her trial by fire, perhaps the one thought which had enabled 
her to maintain her tenuous grasp on her sanity throughout her entire 
ordeal, was that there was no where to go but up. She had survived the 
swamps of her despair, and she suddenly found herself with, not just the 
desire, but the almost fanatical compulsion to become the successful writer 
she'd always dreamed of being. 

It was only three days after the debacle, as she began to refer to her 
dinner party with Marilyn Drew, that Lisa Andrews picked up the phone and 
dialed the number of Mr. Peter Cortland, the best and most successful 
literary agent in New York. Perhaps if she hadn't been so desperate, she 
would never have dared. Perhaps it was only her desperation that gave her 
courage. In any case, his response gave her a new hope. 

"Did you say Kurt Mertz, and the Four Corners, Miss Andrews?" the literary 
agent questioned into the telephone. 

"Yes. Yes, I did, Mr. Cortland. One evening about a week ago." Lisa replied, 
half smiling to herself with a desperate hope. 

"The blonde girl? Long golden hair and ... well ... is that you?" 

"I think it is," Lisa said, her smile widening. 

"And I said that if Mertz didn't take good care of you to drop around to my 
office, didn't I?" 

"You did." 

Peter Cortland chuckled. Then. "Well then, I'm committed aren't I? Let's get 
that manuscript over here today..." 

Two days later, the young novelist was on pens and needles again. Lisa 
really didn't expect to hear from him for another week at least, but she 
couldn't help her nervous anticipation. It was a good book and she knew it, 
historical with a strong love story, the proper amount of sex, and she had 
based her handsome young hero entirely upon Mark, giving her a strong 
feeling of closeness to her ex-husband. 

Since their divorce there were few hours of a day that passed without 
something reminding her of this man she loved so deeply, but following the 
"debacle", when she had nearly done away with herself, she had been content 
to leave it all to fate. The divorced writer was certain they would meet 
again one day, and had been ever since that critical moment when her life 
had taken its dramatic upswing. He still loved her as she did him, she was 
sure of it; and love would find a way. Maybe she was being a romantic fool, 
but she was happy in her dream, and it had been this romantic dream world 
that had partially carried her through her ordeal and helped her retain her 
wits when everything seemed lost. 

It was the waiting for Peter Cortland's call that kept her on edge. Two days 
became four, then five with no word. She tried to keep busy, settling the 
apartment and working spasmodically on the outline of her next book, staying 
entirely to herself, not wanting to revive any of her old ties. By Friday, 
she had made up her mind to call him, but never quite got to it. Finally, 
Peter Cortland contacted her. 

"It's a good book, Lisa," he said, his deep voice resounding against her 
eardrum thunderously, "a damn, good book! I've sold it to a publisher in 
Boston, and right now I'm dickering with one of the major studios on movie 
rights, which is why I haven't called. I wanted to have some good news for 
you..." 

"You ... you've already sold it?" Lisa stammered, unable to fully comprehend 
his wonderful words, and sinking weakly down to the floor. 

"We'll sign contracts Monday," Peter Cortland said. "Now listen a moment. My 
wife and I are having a little party at our country place. We're having a 
few guests, close friends and the like for the week-end. How about you 
joining us, and we'll have plenty of time to discuss the whole thing." 

"Oh ... oh God ... I can't believe it!" Lisa exclaimed, her beautiful face 
radiant in. her happiness. "Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Cortland. I'd love 
to..." 

"Fine. Tell you what, I'll pick you up in a couple of hours, say around 
five? It's about an hour's drive from the city." 

"All right ... yes, yes ... whatever you say ... I'll be ready," Lisa 
managed, finally remembering to give him her address before hanging up and 
collapsing almost lifeless into a chair. 

Then, she wept for joy, a full hour passing before she could regain control 
of her elated emotions again. Finally, she got from the chair to get ready 
for Peter Cortland's arrival. There was only one thing missing in the whole 
beautiful picture, she thought: Mark, to help share her happiness with her. 

Peter Cortland was most punctual. He rang Lisa's buzzer at precisely five 
o'clock and smiled down upon her as she opened the door. She had forgotten 
his exact appearance, having met and seen him only the one time at the 
restaurant, and she guessed that he, too, was refurbishing his memory bank. 

"Damn," he said suddenly. "You're even more lovely than I remembered you." 

She felt her face flushing. "Well, thank you, Mr. Cortland," she managed, 
then spun around to pick up her overnight bag. There was little one could 
ever say to such a compliment. 

"Here, let me have that," he said, moving his big frame into the room and 
taking the bag from her. "All set?" 

"Yes, I think so," she said, and he stepped out ahead of her to wait while 
she set the lock and pulled the door secure. She smiled up at him. 

He took her arm and they walked down the one flight of stairs to the street, 
while he began to enlighten her on what had happened since she had sent him 
her manuscript five days before. He helped her into his sports car parked at 
the curb, and picked up the conversation once he was situated behind the 
wheel and they moved out into traffic. 

" ... Max Dolan, he's senior editor at Lowell Publishing, was really excited 
over it, but he was trying not to show me," Peter said, his eyes straight 
ahead on the road. "He was shooting for all rights, which is par for the 
course, and knew damned well I wasn't going to give them to him." He laughed 
pleasantly. "Anyway, to make a short story of it, honey, your book ought to 
be on their late fall list for Christmas, and that's good." 

Lisa watched him, her hazel eyes expressing her complete jubilation. "I-I 
still can hardly believe it's true," she said, shaking her head. 

Peter glanced over at her, letting his eyes quickly devour her once more. 
"Oh, it's true all right, baby. Monday I'll have the movie rights end of it 
straightened out. So, anymore questions?" 

"Only one ... how much money will I get?" Lisa questioned, finally getting 
to the most important point of all and the one particular he had completely 
overlooked telling her. 

"Didn't I say?" He chuckled. "So, now you know how an agent's brain runs. 
Frankly, I think mine's been too overcome with the luscious sight of you..." 
Again, he let his eyes drink of her beauty. "How a little doll like you ever 
wrote such a book is beyond me. I wouldn't take you for the intellectual 
type. You're constructed for more ... more intimate things, if you don't 
mind me saying so." 

Lisa felt the flush in her cheeks once again. "The money, Mr. Cortland?" She 
smiled. 

"What? Oh yeah, the money. Well, I figure with movie-rights and all, upwards 
of a hundred-thousand, probably one and quarter." 

"My God! Are you serious?" 

"Serious? Of course, I'm serious, and I'm serious about you calling me 
Peter, too. No more of this 'Mr. Cortland' business." He took his eyes from 
the road, as they swung onto the freeway, to steal a fleeting glance at her. 
"I plan that our relationship will be considerably less formal, eh? Don't 
misunderstand me, honey ... it's just part of our way of life in this 
business." 

Lisa saw the brief flicker of lechery flash across his face. Momentarily 
though, she was too overcome by the casual figure he had tossed at her. It 
was overwhelming ... unbelievable! And, then, she again caught the 
near-licentious gleam and came back to immediate reality. Oddly enough, his 
underlying meaning hadn't surprised her. In fact, at the back of her mind 
she had wondered just how long it would be before they reached this point of 
the game. She had learned much, in a short time, it seemed, but she said 
nothing, purposely ignoring the remark while she toyed with the idea. 

He was far from being a repulsive man like Kurt Mertz, and at least sex with 
him wouldn't be an abominable perversion such as she had known with Marilyn 
Drew. It had been a long, grueling, arduous quest, filled with heartbreaks 
and disappointments. She didn't intend that anything would deprive her of 
arriving now ... anything at all. 

"Hey, are you in some kind of ecstatic coma?" her agent asked, his voice 
softening without looking at her, his eyes glued to the heavy lanes of 
traffic leading out of the city. 

"I suppose I am," she replied. "But it's all your fault. You've put me 
there." She paid particular attention to the white at his temples, his 
strong chin and the hair on the back of his hand as he gripped the small 
steering wheel. Sex: it was, after all, the hub of everything, wasn't it? 

He gave her a quick look and she smiled warmly. It was then that his hand 
moved over to pat her thigh affectionately. 

"You know, I think we're going to get on well, you and I," he said 
meaningfully. "Make lots of money together, have lots of fun together ... 
what do you think?" 

She continued to smile warmly at him and he kept stealing quick glances at 
her. He was truly a handsome man. "I shouldn't be surprised," she answered 
softly, almost suggestively. 

"Hell," he said all of a sudden, licking his lips. "How would you like to 
stop off somewhere, have a couple of drinks, a little party, maybe?" 

Lisa felt her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps, she had played it just a 
bit too easy. She forced a smile, trying not to show her fear or hesitation 
to his suggestion. 

"Should we?" she heard herself say. "I mean, you do have guests you said." 

"Yeah, a whole damn house full, too." For the hundredth time he looked over 
at her, his eyes beginning to overflow with the lust brimming there. "Okay, 
baby, we'll wait. Let it build. But I'm warning you, you're going to contend 
with me before the night's out. Otherwise, I'll burst." 

Lisa swallowed tightly. A mixture of apprehension and inherent revulsion 
surged through her which she quickly put from her. She had only to dwell for 
seconds upon this new full life unfurling before her to put down any qualms 
she might have. "Well?" he said. 

Automatically, she reached to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Whatever 
you say, Peter ... darling." 

He stared, then glued his eyes back onto the road. "Goddamn, he blurted. 
"And to think, you can write too!" 

It seemed to be all Peter could do to keep his attention on his driving and 
not on his beautiful young client, but he did, and the car finally arrived 
at its destination out on Long Island. Peter had been telling the truth. In 
spite of the other homes around, it did seem to be out in the middle of the 
country, and Lisa was more than impressed as Peter wound his way up the long 
driveway, weaving in and out of the cars that were already parked along it, 
finally came to a stop in the spacious garage. Quickly hopping out, he came 
around to her side of the car, and opened the door. As soon as she stepped 
out, he swept her up in his arms, pressing her tightly to him. 

"How the hell I stood this all the way out here, I don't know," he grinned, 
and then he kissed her. 

The captivation of his masculine dominance quickly put aside any whims Lisa 
might have had of holding him off. His massive arms swept her tightly to 
him, and she raised her face to his naturally. His hot mouth engulfed her 
own, and his tongue plunged between her lips, going deep to the point of 
nearly choking her. 

Lisa felt his huge hands cup her rounded buttocks as the monstrous bulge in 
the front of his trousers dug into her belly. She sucked and nibbled at his 
tongue automatically, strangely not at all repelled with the idea, though 
she'd expected to be. 

"God, I want to fuck you!" he hissed, raising his big face from her own to 
gape hungrily down at her. 

Lisa was surprised by a chill of erotic stimulation which shocked her at the 
sound of the lewd word and its very meaning as he breathed it into her face. 

"Yes ... yes..." she whispered with some difficulty. 

"Tonight, listen," he managed licking at his lips as his big hands caressed 
her buttocks, "there'll be a gathering in the nursery, that's the playroom 
where Sara, my wife, shows stag films and anything else that stimulates. 
It's a swap arrangement, baby, you know; but I just want to be sure that if 
I get tied up businesswise, you wait for me. Understand?" 

Lisa tried to categorize his rush of words. "A swap arrangement? You mean 
couples swap mates?" 

"Exactly." 

"I've heard about it, but....." 

"Never mind any of it. You just wait for me, you hear?" 

"Yes, Peter. Whatever you say." 

He clutched her to him. "You luscious little bitch!" he gasped, and once 
more his hands went over her before they straightened themselves and entered 
the house. 

There were perhaps some thirty guests milling about the splendid house when 
Peter placed Lisa in his wife's care, and the attractive woman began to show 
her about, introducing her as the brilliant new young novelist her husband 
had discovered. The young blonde caught the twinkling expression of 
understanding that had earlier passed between husband and wife, and frankly, 
she hadn't known whether to smile or cringe. However, Sara had quickly put 
her at ease once Peter had left them to make a few business phone calls. 

"One thing about my husband," the ravishing beauty said, "he always 
brightens up the atmosphere with his choice of girl friends." She was 
smiling warmly and not at all cattishly, as Lisa might have expected. "You 
are a breathtakingly lovely girl, Lisa. I do hope you won't turn his head 
too far from me, and for too long. Really, you know, we love each other a 
great deal, but we like to think we're rather broadminded about one 
another's extracurricular activities. We think it's the secret to perfect 
marital bliss, don't you agree, dear?" 

"Well ... I-I really can't say," Lisa stammered, not a little bit jolted by 
the woman's casual philosophy regarding infidelity, especially her own 
husband's. Yet, at the same time, she quickly assumed. that Sara Cortland 
had her playmates also. . "You're not married, dear?" 

"No ... I'm divorced," said Lisa. "But please don't get the wrong idea, Mrs. 
Cortland, I'm not after your husband." 

"Of course you're not, darling," Sara put in quickly. "I hope I haven't 
given you the jealous wife impression," she added, reaching out to take 
Lisa's hand with a sincere warmth. "Good heavens, anything but that. Peter 
has his affairs,' and I have mine, and neither of us mind in fact, we 
encourage it. Peter told me he was going to invite you this weekend, and of 
course I didn't mind ... my lover is here at the party as well, our 
investment broker, a darling of a man, and Peter has no objections ... but 
enough of this. Let me show you around and introduce you to everyone..." 

Lisa sipped her way through two martinis while Sara conducted her through 
her luxuriously modern home. The third drink Sara made for them at the cozy 
little well-stocked bar in the nursery. It was a large, yet intimate room of 
soft dark hues, indirect lighting and expensive carpeting. The erotic 
pictures, statuary and symbols adorning the walls and tables brought a flush 
to Lisa's cheeks, and the suggestive looking couches and chairs left little 
doubt of the room's main purpose. She was thankful that Peter had mentioned 
its existence earlier; it had helped soften the shocking impact. 

"You like?" Sara asked, smiling. 

"It's unusual, to say the least," the young divorcee replied, gaping at a 
series of paintings showing a couple in various positions enjoying sex. 

"Those are by Mihaly Zichy, the Hungarian painter," Sara enlightened her. 
"And that is a Picasso," she pointed; "Some erotic Japanese, artist unknown 
... those are from the Marquis de Sade's works. Rather enticing, aren't 
they?" 

Lisa could only stare. She had never seen anything like them. 

"They cost Peter a fortune, and of course there's no way of insuring them. 
But you see, only selected and intimate friends get into this room ... and 
now, you're among them, darling," Sara said, smiling meaningfully. "Well, 
shall we go down and join the others?" 

Lisa took up her drink and accompanied her hostess to the main living room 
where most of the guests were gathered, endeavoring with considerable 
difficulty to accept what she had witnessed so far with a woman-of-the-world 
attitude. She hoped her prudishness wasn't showing through. But God, she had 
never dreamed such things... 

A voice caused her to stop short in her thought. Its particular male timbre 
sent an emotional sensation rippling up her spine. Then, the voice laughed 
and she swung around to see him standing there. 

"What is it, dear?" Sara Cortland questioned anxiously as her beautiful 
young guest suddenly paled before her. 

"My God!" Lisa exclaimed. "It's Mark!" 

Sara stared at her. "Why yes, darling ... Mark Andrews . . .do you know 
him?" 

"Know him? He's my ex-husband!" 

* * * 

"I-I just can't believe my eyes," Mark Andrews said, shaking his head, 
smiling, holding Lisa off at arm's length and looking her up and down. "My 
God, you look wonderful ... more beautiful than ever..." 

Lisa beamed at him, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of seeing him 
again, but it was as if her tongue were tied; she just couldn't speak. He 
had rushed to her, once he spotted her and the initial shock had passed; 
then, quickly led her off into another room where they could have some 
measure of privacy. Sara Cortland had watched the whole performance with a 
certain growing apprehension, her smile fading as Mark's eyes seemed to 
brighten unnecessarily at the sight of an ex-wife, a little ridge of white 
appearing around her mouth when she watched him lead the lovely young blonde 
off to a secluded corner. 

"Good heavens, say something!" Mark said, grinning at her. 

"I-I can't..." Lisa blubbered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I-I'm so happy 
to see you ... how are you. How have you been? Where have..." 

"Wait a minute," he said, laughing. "One question at a time." And then, his 
smile faded, an expression of wonderment taking it's place. "How come you're 
here, anyway?" 

Now, Lisa laughed, and elatedly she told him of her success with her book, 
keeping it as brief as possible. It was him that she wanted to hear about. 

"That's wonderful, Lisa," he said. "Is Peter your agent?" 

She nodded enthusiastically and thought she detected the slightest flicker 
of distaste cross his handsome face. It quickly occurred to her that he was 
trying to put two and two together and she led him away from the subject. 

"Tell me something about yourself," she said, almost breathlessly. "My God, 
it's been so long, and I had no idea where you were..." 

"Nor I, you," he said, his eyes searching her face then trailing down the 
enchanting contours of the beautiful body that he so well remembered, his 
mouth going dry at just the thought of her soft naked flesh. 

"I've been in New York. Do you remember Charlie Anderson? Well he and I, and 
another guy, have just formed our own investment company: Anderson, Andrews, 
. and Miller! Sound impressive?" 

"Oh, Mark, yes it does!" Lisa exclaimed with pride, her eyes shining with 
tears and happiness. "You sound like you've really made it!" 

"Well, it's really been touch and go until now," Mark grinned. "In fact, 
before I came up with the Cortland's account, we were having a pretty 
tough..." 

"You ... You're the Cortland's investment broker," Lisa interrupted, feeling 
a small lump beginning to form down in the pit of her stomach. "You?" 

"That's right, Lisa. To the tune of a hundred grand. Not bad, eh?" 

The young divorcee was nodding, but all the time Sara Cortland's words were 
flashing back and forth across her mind with undeniable insistency. My lover 
is here at the party as well, our investment broker, a darling of a man... 

Confidentially, there's a man here named Rourke who's worth about a million, 
and before this weekend's over I'll have that deal too," he advised her in a 
voice just above a whisper. 

"I'm happy for you, Mark," she said, but the enthusiasm suddenly seemed to 
have drained from her voice. "I hope it all works out. Now, I think we 
better get back to the others." 

She started to turn away and he caught her arm. "Hey, for gosh sakes, hold 
on will you?" He stared at her half smiling, half in wonderment at the 
sudden change that had come over her. "My God, it's been ... how long? Two 
years since we've seen one another, and that's all we have to say? How are 
you? 

How've you been? What're you doing? Look, Lisa," he said, his face growing 
serious, his eyes almost pleading as he moved closer to her. "I've got a 
great deal more that I want to say to you, things I've said a hundred times 
to myself at night when I'm alone..." 

"Oh?" Lisa made the sound rather sharply. "I didn't think you'd be alone, 
Mark ... at night, especially." 

Mark stared at her, surprised at his lovely ex-wife's sudden change of 
heart. "What the devil are you getting at, anyway?" 

Sara Cortland interrupted him. "So, here's where you two are hiding." She 
smiled thinly. "Rehashing old arguments, I presume." She linked her arm 
through Mark's, and Lisa watched his face redden. "Well, darling, Mr. Rourke 
wants a word or two with us, so I'm afraid your little tete-a-tete will have 
to wait for another time. You will excuse us, dear ... and oh, I nearly 
forgot, Peter is looking all over for his little authoress." She leaned 
close. "Personally, I think he'd like to go over your outline with you ... 
in private." 

Mark glared at Lisa, his own face still a flaming brick-red. He wanted very 
badly to say something, anything that would cut, but his ex-wife was gone 
before he could formulate words. 

"Well, darling? Are we ready to talk to Mr. Rourke, or are you going to 
stand here and do a slow burn indefinitely?" Sara needled. 

"Wh-What? Oh ... yes," he managed. "Let's go, for Christ's sake!" 

As they left the room, Lisa made her way to the bar, picked up another 
drink, and quickly downed it. She was sick inside, and her rage at what she 
had discovered existed between Sara Cortland and Mark was turning her inside 
out. Two goddamned years she had pined away, hoping, waiting, wondering if 
he was all right. And was he all right! The handsome young Cassanova, 
cleverly feathering his nest and his bed. The bastard! Well, it was 
certainly over with now, wasn't it? There was nothing left to that feeble 
episode in her life. She had blamed herself, her frigidity, for the loss of 
this man she had thought she loved. And now, it was time that she awakened 
to the facts! He simply wasn't man enough to satisfy her, and that was the 
whole story. Kurt Mertz, ugly brute though he was, had brought her the first 
full meaning of sex. And a woman and a dog had repeated the act. It was 
obvious that Mark Andrews just wasn't man enough for her. 

"Darling! I've been looking all over for you," Peter Cortland said, coming 
up beside her and taking her hand. "For awhile, I was almost afraid you'd 
disappeared." 

The sight of his strong handsome presence caused the blood to pound in 
Lisa's veins. She smiled gorgeously and reached to take his big hand between 
her own small ones. 

"I knew you'd find me," she said in soft tones. "So, I just waited." 

Cortland's tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his eyes blazed as they 
raked her. "Christ, you're lovely!" he gasped. "Look, are you hungry?" 

"Not really." 

"It's nine-thirty, you should eat. There's a buffet in the dining room. 
Let's grab a bite and go to my quarters. We can discuss the book ... and 
future plans." 

Lisa thought about it, and suddenly, the idea excited her. "I'd like that," 
she said. 

And she was sure she'd like it, or at least she thought she would. But 
somehow, between the bar and Peter Cortland's "private quarters", Lisa lost 
that conviction. It was only thirty minutes later, after she'd had something 
to eat, that she stood in the middle of Peter's suite, unable to give the 
briefest analysis of what had come over her. She had simply frozen. It 
really had nothing to do with Peter, but she couldn't seem to explain it to 
him. He'd kissed her a half-dozen times, but it was as if she were made of 
ice inside. She couldn't help it, nor could she answer in reason why. 

"Why the sudden glacier treatment?" Peter growled at her. "You know I'm 
going to fuck you one way or the other, why not with cooperation and 
enjoyment?" 

He was storming back and forth across the room. Lisa sat on the edge of the 
bed, fully clothed, watching him. To this point, he had not even forced a 
hand upon her. God, she wanted so much to be what he wanted her to be right 
at that moment, but she couldn't. Thoughts of Mark saturated her brain. 

He walked to a TV screen in the den and turned it on. It lighted immediately 
and she saw the group in the nursery she'd just left. They seemed to be 
pretty much concentrated on the couches and watching something. Suddenly, 
she noticed one girl with her legs spread wide, her dress over her hips. The 
man with her had his hand inside her panties, cupping her wildly squirming 
loins. Lisa felt a slight involuntary tremor as the outline of his hand 
moved beneath the sheer material. He was stroking in a slow lewd rhythm, 
obviously sinking his fingers deep into her vagina. The girl, impervious to 
everyone around her, was grinding her pelvis, buttocks raised, in a tempo to 
the fingers fucking into her. Yet, both she and her companion were watching 
something. 

"What is it? What are they watching?" Lisa asked hesitantly. 

Peter went to the set and switched the channels, then came back to lie down 
on the bed beside her. He said nothing, only hoped that his closed-circuit 
surprise might loosen up his suddenly reluctant guest. 

The picture on the screen caused Lisa to sit upright and gape. A young 
teenage girl had the erect penis of an older man in her mouth, and she was 
sucking it voraciously as though her very life depended on it. The girl was 
completely naked, and the man's massive shaft thrust out from his own naked 
loins like a fence post, the much smaller girl sitting on a chair sucking it 
with all of her heart. Then, the scene changed and the camera dwelled on a 
second girl on her knees, she, too. as young as the first, with her tongue 
extended and licking at the older man's hanging testicles between his 
buttocks. Once more, the camera switched to show the girl on her knees with 
her fingers masturbating herself, then up to the one in the chair, her legs 
wide-spread and vigorously thrusting what looked like an artificial penis in 
and out of her wide-splayed vagina. 

"My God!" Lisa exclaimed as the man's legs began to jerk, and then she saw 
the thick white liquid oozing from the sitting girl's mouth, dribbling down 
to her chin as she swallowed, her eyes like two blazing hot coals as her 
hand rammed the long rubber cock up to the hilt in her wetly glistening 
pussy. 

Peter rolled over toward his reluctant client and drew her to him, kissing 
her wetly on the mouth, his big hand moving down her rib cage to the 
seductive swell of her rounded buttocks under her skirt. 

Lisa had no intention of fighting him in any respect, but she was sorry she 
couldn't respond in kind. She even had no feeling for Mark, at the moment 
for she owed him nothing. It was simply that she was the way she was; not 
that the movie hadn't excited her. It had, but not to the point that she 
knew Peter wanted her to be. It was almost as if icicles had formed in her 
belly, she simply returned his kiss to the best of her ability. 

He pulled her to her feet and led her toward the far wall where the mirror 
hung and the extra-wide couch sat beneath it. He stood her before the mirror 
then walked away for a moment. Suddenly, the room went dark, and the mirror 
illuminated as if it were a window. Lisa saw the next room and she climbed 
onto the couch closer ... for the occupants were Mark and Sara Cortland, 
both completely naked! 

"It's a double mirror," Peter said. "Now we watch their party." 

It was a bedroom and Lisa couldn't believe her eyes. Peter had come up 
beside her and put Iris arm around her. His wife, Sara was lying naked and 
spread-eagled on the bed, her head gently rolling back and forth as Mark ran 
his tongue wetly up and down her exposed body. It had been his wife's idea 
to treat the divorced Andrews to this little experiment in voyeurism,, but 
Peter had immediately realized the exciting possibilities in the plan, and 
agreed. 

"Oh God!" Lisa exclaimed. 

The agent patted her trembling buttocks gently. "Watch," he said. "Just 
watch." 

Lisa stared unbelievingly. Mark had obviously sucked Sara's voluptuous 
breasts into quaking hardness and more before they had moved to the mirror. 
Peter's naked wife was squirming beneath his flicking caresses like some 
lascivious slut, possessed. She had her hands wound in his hair, pressing 
his wet mouth to her demanding flesh. 

Lisa lurched angrily as she watched. She was enraged. Had it not been her 
Mark, perhaps her whole reactions would be different, she thought, but this 
was Mark! Her husband ... oh God, not really, was he? Her mind twisted at 
the sight of the spectacle, while her feminine reaction was baffling to her. 
It was depraved and obscene, and yet, somewhere deep inside her, she wanted 
to watch. 

Sara Cortland was beautiful, she thought subconsciously, staring at the 
lovely woman spread-eagled on the bed before her. She was obviously engulfed 
in rapture; her mouth hung open and her eyes gaped smokily up at nothing. 
Mark was right above her, his face but inches from her nakedly writhing 
pussy. Lisa watched his thumbs open the outer flanges of her wetly trembling 
vaginal lips, and it was as if he had touched her own! Sara sucked in her 
taut belly and gasped as he teased her, pulling outward slowly and parting 
the silken pussy hair to expose her blushing pink cuntal slit before him. 
Lisa gasped again as the dainty bud of Sara's erect little clitoris burst 
into throbbing view, just above the gaping vaginal orifice. 

"Oh, no!" Lisa exclaimed as Mark's head dropped, his long wet tongue darting 
out to lick tantalizingly at the quivering little bud of raw nerves, the 
plexus at the top of Sara's lewdly open cunt. 

"My God!" she said again, looking over at Peter beside her, hardly conscious 
of the fact that he was running his hand up and down her own inner thighs as 
she kneeled close to the mirror. "Don't you mind?" 

He chuckled softly. "Not as long as I have you, baby." 

"But ... but that's your wife!" 

"And she's happy, isn't she?" 

Lisa stared, watching Sara's firmly ripened body jerk as Mark's slavering 
tongue played with her ultra-sensitive clitoris. Lisa saw her long lithe 
legs clamp together tightly about his head, and her shapely hips began an 
easy rising-falling motion in cadence to his tongue fucking in and out of 
her wetly throbbing cunt. They couldn't hear her, but the young divorcee 
knew the naked woman was purring like a kitten, while at the same time her 
lower body was writhing insanely. Mark had begun to suck with obvious 
fervor. 

Lisa was trying desperately to evaluate. She was racking her mind as she 
stared in disbelief at Sara Cortland squirming in a wild dance of eagerness 
at the lustfully depraved sucking of her vagina. And her Mark was doing it, 
while Sara's husband knelt beside her, his hand up under her dress caressing 
her buttocks over the smooth white nylon of her panties. She gasped and 
stared, watching Sara's naked body writhe in lewd surrender beneath the 
earth-shattering tongue-fucking and suddenly the young divorcee found that 
her own body was moving in unison with the other woman. She turned abruptly 
to Peter and found that he was close, that he was behind her, and she felt 
the length of his body pressed tight against her back. Then, she felt his 
arms extended around her, his hands on her ripely hanging breasts, caressing 
them with a circular motion that felt good. Automatically, she pressed her 
trembling young buttocks back against him. 

She felt the stiffness of his semi-hard cock as she had felt it against her 
belly when they had stood in the garage earlier, but now it was pressing 
through her panties into the softly yielding crevice of her presented 
buttocks. Oooooh ... it did feel good! 

The young writer sensed her agent's hand lowering the zipper at the back of 
her dress, and then a hand moving in to push her brassiere away from her 
ripely swollen breasts. He moved the garment upward letting her twin globes 
of warm flesh fall loose, his hands greedily cupping the ripe mounds as they 
fell free, encompassing the hardened sensitive nipples between his eager 
fingers, pressing tightly and rolling them back and forth until she 
whimpered aloud in pleasure at his manipulations and at the way he was 
grinding his heavy male hardness between the split of her eagerly rotating 
ass-cheeks. 

Lisa stared as if mesmerized, her panty-clad buttocks pressed snugly back 
against Peter, watching Mark's nibbling lips as they moved up Sara's 
desperately writhing body. He worked slowly, almost methodically, pausing at 
strategic spots for an extra quick flick of his tongue, and raising obvious 
groans of pleasure from deep in her throat. Mark had risen to his knees and, 
for the first time, Lisa saw his thickly rigid cock jutting out from his 
naked loins. A blended chill of excitement, rage, and revulsion passed 
through her at the familiar sight of it and the memories it brought 
instantly to her. But she hadn't remembered it as being so enormously thick, 
and suddenly she shuddered as he poised it at the wet little mouth of Sara's 
vagina. He was going to ram it right into her! But then, he stopped Sara had 
said something to him and he began to slither up her sensuously naked body 
until he was completely astraddle her abundant breasts, his tensed buttocks 
flattening the soft fleshy mounds against her chest, the lust-swollen head 
of his steel-hard cock scant inches from her moistly waiting mouth. 

Lisa gasped as Mark reached behind him, and slid his hand down between 
Sara's wide-open thighs; his outstretched middle finger sank deep into her 
moistly throbbing cunt, and a second later he began to finger-fuck her. 
Grinning in lewd triumph, he rotated his finger, causing Sara to lurch and 
gasp, as did Lisa at the sight and thought of that taunting finger moving in 
and out of the woman's sensitive vaginal walls. She appeared to be trying to 
squirm away now from the erotic torment, but Mark had placed his knees in 
such a manner as to hold her arms and shoulders secured to the bed. He 
grinned down at her with a lewdly sadistic expression, as his free hand 
grasped his blood-engorged cock and began to taunt her lips with its bulbous 
head. 

Lisa could not believe the lascivious sight she was witnessing, but above 
all she could not conceive that the naked male performing so obscenely 
before her was her own Mark, the boy-man she had loved for so long. It just 
wasn't possible! My God! She gasped again as she saw Sara's little pink 
tongue flick out to lick at the tiny hole at the tip of his proffered cock. 
She gaped in horror as a thin string of the liquid excitement that oozed 
from his penis stretched across to her open mouth, and at the way the 
shamelessly aroused woman was straining, the cords in her neck standing out 
like velvet-covered cables as she tried to capture the throbbing shaft of 
flesh and suck it up between her moistly warm lips. Desperately she sought 
it, her tongue laving at its underside while Mark laughed above her, holding 
it just out of her reach, until Lisa found her own neck stretching in 
sympathy with the struggling passion-filled woman on the other bed. 

Then Lisa thought she detected something more than just a sadistic light in 
Mark's eye; maybe just a touch of hate now as he teased the naked woman who 
was completely at his mercy beneath him with his angry cock, and she felt 
the muscles of her own body grow more tense at the thought, even as Peter's 
big hands continued to maddeningly fondle her hardening breasts. Suddenly, 
she gave a little start as one of his hands moved downward across her 
abdomen and slowly slipped beneath the tight elastic waistband of her white 
nylon panties. His fingers moved tormentingly in the sparse golden hair of 
her vaginal mound, and then slid downward into the moistly unresisting pussy 
slit up between her spread thighs, gently moving through its warm throbbing 
wetness to the tiny bud of her clitoris and grazing it into quivering life. 

Lisa moaned aloud as Peter's outstretched finger expertly created little 
jolts of pleasure that surged through her excitedly quivering vagina. A 
moment later, his finger stopped teasing her clitoris and slipped gently 
inside her tight little cuntal opening, sliding deep up into her wetly 
clasping pussy and causing wilder erotic sensations to spiral through her. 
The young divorcee squirmed uncontrollably beneath his caresses and felt the 
hugeness of his hotly throbbing penis pressed deep into the now perspiring 
crevice of her buttocks from behind. His massive rod of flesh jerked and 
throbbed as it telegraphed to her the mounting lust of the big man who was 
draped over her from behind, his great hands seeming to set her whole 
wantonly trembling body aflame with a lewd desire. She ground her fleshy 
young buttocks back against his penis and the finger he was thrusting into 
her moistly throbbing cunt, and she rejoiced in a feeling of masochistic 
servility at her helplessness he was obviously going to fuck her here while 
she watched her husband fucking Sara in the next room. She shuddered. It was 
so wanton ... so exciting! 

Paul Cortland began an almost imperceptive rocking movement, and Lisa felt 
her body respond of its own volition, moving in rhythm while they both 
watched the lewd performance on the other side of the mirror, witnessing the 
exact moment when Mark raised Sara's head by the hair and thrust his long 
thick cock forward, the lust-inflated head smashing between her wetly parted 
lips to plunge deep into the warm wet cavern of her wide-stretched mouth. 

Lisa's breath caught in her throat. My God! He would choke her the way he 
was ramming his huge penis down her throat! But to her amazement, Sara was 
eagerly thrusting her face forward to meet his every plunge, her lips ovaled 
tightly, sucking at his thick organ with a hunger that had to be seen to be 
believed. 

And then, as Lisa stared at Mark who was on his knees now with one hand 
holding Sara's head aloft and the other sunk deep in her widespread cunt, 
she felt Peter lift her dress to her hips and draw her sheer white nylon 
panties down over her quivering ass-cheeks, letting them slip to her knees. 
A cool rush of air brushed up between her legs, and she felt her face 
flushing uncontrollably. 

God, she thought, her whole backside was exposed to him, presented in lewd 
invitation for whatever little humiliating game he might decide to play with 
it. Good Lord, what did he think of her? That she was some kind of slut 
probably similar to his own wife lying there pervertedly sucking Mark's 
hardened penis like some wanton whore? If he did, he was in for a surprise, 
she thought, as she gaped in disbelief at Sara's elasticized lips sucking 
hungrily at Mark's fleshy rod as it sawed in and out her vacuuming mouth. 
Peter's wife's face-was contorted, her mouth fluted, her eyes glazed like 
some rutting animal, and the sight was involuntarily increasing Lisa's own 
excitement, as now she could feel the wetness saturating her spread thighs 
and dampening Peter's hand with its warm moisture. 

Suddenly, Lisa heard the metallic whisper of her host's zipper behind her 
and she gave a start, but before she could speak she felt him moving about, 
and turning her head saw that his face was lowered to the level of her 
lewdly presented buttocks. She felt him pressing his powerful hands against 
the small of her back. 

"Bend over," he hissed at her, and although she hesitated, his hands forced 
her to comply until her naked ass-cheeks wavered in the air behind her and 
before his face. Abruptly, she felt his wetly heated tongue licking downward 
through the entire length of her sweat-dampened anal crevice, stopping only 
briefly to flick its tip into the tiny puckered ring of her defenseless 
anus. 

"Oh God!" Lisa moaned while his long wet tongue tantalized her helplessly 
upraised loins. She gasped again at the sudden unexpected entry of it into 
her moistly throbbing pussy, and buried her face in the couch with a 
surprised groan of intense pleasure. She had jerked forward with the first 
hot teasing contact in an involuntary spasm of delight, but quickly screwed 
her buttocks back hard against his face. She felt her deep vaginal muscles 
contract, opening and closing tightly around the smooth length of his tongue 
sunk so deeply up inside her. Her breath exploded down into the couch in 
small quick gasps of delight as he began a sudden curling and flicking, 
pressing his lips closer, and then once again working at her whole open 
crevice, sucking and licking at it like a starving animal while her flexed 
buttocks throbbed and swayed around his face almost out of control. 

Dear God, she had never known anything like this before! Its utter delicious 
wickedness was consuming her, causing a lewd tingling joy to permeate her 
whole being. She never wanted it to stop ... but it did, and she sensed his 
tongue slithering back up through the cleft separating her buttocks, up to 
the base of her spine, and then he moved in close behind her on his knees, 
until she felt the lust-inflated head of his aroused maleness press into the 
softly yielding split of her helpless buttocks. 

A shudder rippled through her at the touch of its massiveness. Oh no, she 
thought, he's way too big for me! He ll tear me open! 

Then, he backed away and impatiently reached down to pull the hindering 
panties away from her knees. Neither of them spoke and the task required 
some maneuvering but finally it was accomplished. Lisa started to drop to 
the couch and turn over onto her back, but as she did she caught sight of 
Sara Cortland's lipstick-rimmed lips clasped greedily around Mark's growing 
white cock sawing into her mouth, and decided she wanted to watch it to the 
very end. Sara had gotten her hands free now and was clutching Mark's 
thrusting buttocks, one in each hand, and was pulling his huge penis 
furiously into her lewdly ovaled mouth while he grinned salaciously above 
her, watching her lust-contorted face as she sucked at his pistoning 
instrument. 

"Oh God," Lisa breathed suddenly. "Let's take off all our clothes..." 

"Good," Peter agreed, jumping to his feet and tearing at his things in a 
frenzy. 

Lisa stood and slipped her dress down over her hips, at the same time 
getting her first real look at Peter Cortland's long thick cock extending 
out unbelievably from his muscular loins. 

"Oh, my God, Peter ... I can never take all that," she gasped, her beautiful 
hazel eyes locked on it in obvious fear. She raised her head as he came 
toward her smiling, his arms held out for her to go into, and in spite of 
her fear, she did. 

"Don't worry, baby," he whispered, holding her naked voluptuousness tight to 
him, his massive cock pressed snugly against the soft flesh of her belly. "I 
won't hurt you, and believe me, you can take it. Now, do you want to see the 
end of their party? He must be just about ready to cum in my sweet wife's 
mouth." 

"Yes! Yes!" Lisa exclaimed, remembering and leaning back onto the couch, 
bending over this time so that her buttocks were quickly presented to her 
heavily breathing host, and she could still see into the mirror. "Please ... 
please be gentle, darling." 

Again, Peter got on his knees behind her, moving forward, slipping his knees 
as far up between her wide-stretched thighs as he could possibly go, guiding 
his eagerly pulsating penis forward. with thumb and forefinger, gently 
parting the soft blonde pussy hair with his plum-colored cock-head. He felt 
the warm soft folds of her tight little cunt close wetly over the rounded 
tip of his cock and the wildly erotic sensation made him groan in obscene 
delight. 

Lisa stared through the glass, endeavoring to forget her own mounting dread 
by losing herself in Sara and Mark's utterly obscene lovemaking. 

Now she could see white viscous fluid running from the corners of Sara's 
mouth and dribbling in tiny rivulets down her hollowing cheeks as she lay on 
her back, her head partially raised and Mark's thickly jerking cock stuffing 
her mouth in savage plunges; suddenly, Lisa realized that Sara was reveling 
in the brutal humiliation her Mark was subjecting her to, a masochistic 
gleam dancing strangely in her lust-glazed eyes. 

Lisa bit down into her lower lip as she felt Peter's warmly throbbing cock 
begin to press and prod against the small elastic opening of her own 
trembling vagina. She gasped aloud, steeling herself as the thick cock-head 
slipped through the expanding ring of cuntal flesh; she heard him groan as 
they both felt the tight walls of her heatedly clasping pussy slip over the 
fleshy shaft, wetly enclosing its rock-hard length as he continued to slide 
right up into her belly. 

"Ah ... ah ... oh ... darling..." she breathed, not sure of her own 
emotions. Truly she had felt the massive entry with a dozen twinges of pain, 
but not once had she fought him or cried out, and just as truly did her 
cunt-walls seem afire with his unaccustomed size embedded in her belly. It 
felt as though he had burrowed into her all the way to her breasts, and now 
she moaned uncontrollably for the first time. 

"All right?" he questioned softly. "Yes ... all right," Lisa managed to 
groan out between her tightly clenched teeth. 

Then, gasping his obvious delight at her tight little cunt's reception of 
him, Peter Cortland began to rock rhythmically and gently in and out of her 
warmly moist channel. For awhile, Lisa continued to chew at her lower lip, 
until gradually the pain eased as her tortured cunt walls expanded, and she, 
too, sensed a masochistic sensation of pleasure once more. Being fucked this 
way, helplessly impaled on his long thick cock while she watched Mark's 
brutal subjugation of Sara Cortland, who was sucking her ex-husband's 
lengthy thick penis like some lowly slave, had caused exciting sensations of 
wicked pleasure to ripple through Lisa's love-starved body. The lewd sight 
taking place before her, and the thought of Peter Cortland's great cock 
ravishing her own eagerly quivering cunt caused the kneeling divorcee to 
undulate her naked buttocks in rhythmic circles back at the heavy shaft of 
flesh fucking into her from behind. 

"Oh . . .oh Peter ... it's good ... good ... good! Don't stop, darling. 
Don't stop!" she whispered back at him. 

Peter Cortland grinned lewdly down upon the smooth whiteness of her 
delicious body. He let his eyes feast for the slightest moment there, on the 
way her beautifully rounded ass-cheeks curved sharply away into the narrow 
wasp-like waist that looked as though it would break from the least of 
pressure. On either side of his kneeling legs, he could see her firm white 
thighs tapering down to well-formed knees, and then blossoming out again to 
the fullness of her calves. Momentarily, he envisioned her lying on her back 
with the delicious strength of those calves locked tightly behind his ass, 
pulling him into her in a wild burst of passion, but that would come later. 
Much would come later. Oh, don't worry, baby, he thought to himself. I'm not 
about to stop: Not for a damn long time to come. In fact, my little blonde 
bitch, I've just begun to fuck. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Mark Andrews was about ready to come apart inside and blow his sperm right 
into Sara Cortland's waiting gullet, which was exactly what she was waiting 
for as she sucked him like some kind of machine, her soft warm lips brushing 
against the hair of his thrusting groin, his saliva-coated cock plunging to 
the very depths of her throat with every thrust.... 

Oh God, Lisa, where are you? God, when I saw your lovely, delicate pureness 
outside there I realized what I had given up so blindly. Please, for God's 
sake, darling, come back to me! 

"Oh ... Oh..." Mark blurted aloud, his mind suddenly taken away from his 
ex-wife. He gaped down at Sara's rounded lips clenching hungrily around his 
throbbing penis as his loins grew hot and he felt the sweat oozing between 
his legs. The pressure building in his cum-filled balls slapping against her 
upturned chin as she worked in a near hypnotic state was excruciating, 
unbearable, and his pistoning cock seemed to inflate and lengthen. 

At that moment, it happened! There was a spasmodic jerk in his tensing 
loins, and nothing in the world could have stopped the seething white flow 
as he jerked his erupting cock from her mouth, holding the heavy shaft back 
so that its wildly jerking head was inches from her wide open mouth. And 
then, it began squirting its powerful streams of white hot sperm in lengthy 
jets into her gaping mouth, filling it to the brim in the manner she liked, 
and then he thrust into her greedy little mouth again, and he watched her 
swallow it away time and again until his emptied loins pumped and nothing 
came. She'd sucked him completely dry. 

Mark pulled his deflated penis from her still sucking mouth and climbed off 
her. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat there. Momentarily, he sat 
with head bowed, then reached for a cigarette on the night stand. There was 
a pause, and then Sara leaned over to him. 

"What's the matter, lover? Your ex-wife getting to you?" 

"Is that so damned strange," Mark shot back, irritated by her acute 
perception. 

"No, no," the lovely woman smiled, "not at all. But a lot of water has 
passed under the bridge since then. In fact, I think you'd be surprised by 
how your little wife's changed." 

"Oh, I doubt that," Mark said. 

"Do you? Come here then." Sara led the way over to a mirror on the wall of 
the bedroom, and extinguished the lights in the room. 

Mark followed her, not really paying attention, but thinking of his 
beautiful ex-wife, and the way she had looked tonight at the party. 

He knew now that he loved her with every fiber of his being, and given half 
a chance he was going to tell her. Momentarily, he had seen reciprocal love 
in her lovely eyes tonight, before whatever the hell it was that had 
happened; but he was certain that she loved him as much as he loved her, and 
he would almost bet she also was still a near virgin. 

Mark came up beside Sara, only peripherally aware that as she turned a dial 
beside the wall mirror their reflections gradually disappeared and were 
replaced by a scene, almost like a television image, which looked like two 
people, on a couch! Mark froze, a heavy tremor of revulsion surging through 
him as he stared in disbelief. 

Good God almighty!! Beyond the mirror, lying on the couch only a few feet 
away lay Lisa, naked, with Peter Cortland between her widespread thighs, her 
beautiful face twisted in ecstasy as the big man savagely fucked his long 
thick cock into her gyrating pussy! 

He couldn't believe it! It was impossible! My God, not Lisa, of all people! 
Why ... why, she was a human icicle, and who should know better than he? But 
... but, there she lay, nevertheless, her voluptuous body erotically 
writhing beneath Peter Cortland! 

Sara adjusted the panel controls beside the mirror, turning up the volume of 
sound, immediately picking up Lisa's lascivious groans as she mewled up into 
the moistness of Peter's mouth, and Mark visualized her thrusting her tongue 
with complete abandon deep into his throat. Low hums of passionately servile 
surrender were coming in torrents from deep in her chest, her face contorted 
with lewd desire, as her mouth worked, her neck strained, and her nostrils 
flared, a light film of perspiration covering her forehead under her 
disheveled, soft blonde hair. 

"Oooooh yes, yes ... fuck it hard, darling, fuck it hard!" she was begging, 
gasping in abandoned welcome to the long punishing cock sinking deep up into 
her tightly clasping cunt. 

Mark gaped as Peter's big hands slipped under the nakedly rounded moons of 
his ex-wife's shimmering buttocks, raising them and at the same time 
straining his huge cock forward into her with all the strength of his hips 
and thighs. She was moaning incoherently as she almost viciously wound her 
tapered legs up and around his hips, forcing him even deeper into her. Mark 
could see the soft pink folds of vaginal flesh clinging to the wetly 
glistening cock as it withdrew from her, and he found himself wagering that 
she could feel every inch on that massive penis fucking into the moistly 
heated cunt he so well remembered and loved so much. 

Good God! He couldn't stand it! He was going in there and ... and... 

"It might interest you to know lover, that your ex and my husband were 
watching us just a few minutes ago," Sara said calmly, sensing his anger. 

Mark looked up at her. "What the hell did you say?" 

Sara laughed lightly. "That's the routine at my parties, a bit of voyeurism 
for stimulation. Best aphrodisiac I know of." 

"Oh God," Mark groaned. The thought that his Lisa had watched this woman 
sucking his cock and the way he had licked her cunt sickened him ... My God, 
there was nothing he could do! He'd lost her for certain this time, for 
certain and forever. Momentarily, he thought he was going to shed tears, but 
a sudden feminine moan of erotic pleasure filled the room, and his attention 
was drawn back to the mirror. 

Peter was working feverishly over his ex-wife, and Lisa was tossing her head 
from side to side as she moaned ceaselessly from her open mouth. Their host 
had lengthened his strokes, bringing his thick pistoning penis nearly all 
the way out of her desperately clasping vagina, then plunging forward into 
her uplifted buttocks, his heavy balls slapping against her tight little 
anus. Mark stared and saw the big man's hand trail down over the taut smooth 
skin of her buttocks and his outstretched middle finger find the small anal 
hole cradled so defenselessly there. He even felt his own cock jerk as 
Peter's finger pushed into the puckered opening with a sudden movement, and 
he saw the rubbery flesh yield before his attack. 

"Ooohhh," Lisa gasped, the mixed sound of pain-pleasure tumbling from her 
lips. 

Mark held his breath, watching the finger sink deeper into the hairless 
little ring of flesh. 

"Ohhhhh God!" Lisa groaned again as it dug further into her defenseless 
rectal passage; but Peter didn't stop, and Mark's rapidly growing cock gave 
another lurch when he saw the way the big man was working the thick digit 
around inside, stretching her rubbery ring wider and wider as he ground into 
her. And then, Mark's mouth fell open in stunned disbelief when he saw him 
insert a second finger. 

God! He wanted to smash in there and tear the filthy bastard off her, but he 
knew there was nothing he could do. Deep guttural moans of pleasure came 
from Lisa's chest now as she skewered her wantonly writhing ass-cheeks back 
onto Peter's fingers probing around in the depths of her back passage. He 
had her hopelessly impaled between his eagerly throbbing cock in her splayed 
vagina and his fingers shoved tightly and whimpering in lewd abandon under 
the double ravishment of her loins. 

Mark stared as Cortland used his shoulders behind Lisa's knees to push them 
back hard until they touched the couch on each side of her face, making the 
naked plane of her beautiful loins wide open to the jack-hammer thrusts of 
his cruelly skewering cock as he drove without mercy into her hot little 
cunt. 

"OH oh, oh, oh, oh," Lisa began to cough, her face twisted in an 
unrecognizable grimace of pure lust. 

Peter grunted loudly and quickened his stroke, grinding hard and deep so 
that his rigid shaft of pulsating flesh bored far up into the secret 
recesses of her womb. Mark saw his wife's full sensuous breasts heave and 
quiver up against the pressure of the heavy chest ... and suddenly Lisa 
began to convulse and shiver beneath him. 

"Oh God ... Oh my God! I'm cumming! Yes ... yes ... I'm cumming! 
Ooohhhhhhhh!" she half-screamed. 

Mark couldn't believe it! She was actually cumming! He gaped in awe at the 
gush of liquid passion flooding from her spasming cunt locked around 
Cortland's wildly thrusting cock. An immediate surge of hatred raged through 
the young investment counselor, and he felt scalding tears streaming down 
his cheeks as he stared. She was cumming ... and she'd never come with him!! 

"How do I get in there?" he hissed at Sara Cortland. 

"Now lover, I don't think..." 

"I said how do I get in there!" Sara flinched from the obvious intensity of 
his rage.. 

"It's the other door in this hallway," the frightened woman answered. "But 
what are you...? " 

Mark didn't stop to listen to her, but barged out of the room, stalked down 
the hallway unconscious of his nakedness, and threw open the door of the 
bedroom he'd just been looking into. His face twisted into an unreasoning 
grimace of revenge as he saw that Peter Cortland had finished, and was 
starting to get up. 

"Now, look here, Andrews..." Peter began. 

"Shut up, and get the hell out of here," Mark snarled viciously. "I've got a 
few words to say to my ex-frigid ex-wife." 

"Now wait a minute, boy..." 

"Are you going to get out of here, or am I going to throw you out!" Mark's 
voice was now threatening, and he watched with satisfaction as the older man 
considered resisting, thought better of it, and then got up from the couch. 

"She's not your wife anymore, Andrews. You lay one finger on her and..." 

"Get the fuck out!" 

Mark grabbed Peter Cortland by the arm, and almost shoved the older man 
towards the door. Peter might have made a very even fight of it, but chose 
not to: hell, what was to follow was the Andrews' business, not his. 

Once he'd gotten his ex-wife's lover out of the room, Mark paused 
momentarily by the door, and then slowly turned to face the cowering Lisa, 
his face a brutal mask of undisguised rage. 

"M-Mark, please ... please don't say things we'll both be sorry for..." 

He laughed bitterly, then began to move toward her. "I doubt that I'll be 
sorry for anything I say or do to you, Lisa, my lovely little ex-wife," he 
hissed at her. 

The terrified girl backed across the couch to the wall as he moved in on 
her, his teeth clenched, his lips drawn back in obvious hate while his eyes 
blazed in clear ugly lust, fastened on her rising and falling breasts. 

"Tits," he sneered vilely. "And the nicest tits I knew of ... until Cortland 
put his filthy hands on them." 

"L-Listen to me, Mark..." 

"Shut up!" he shouted at her, raising his hand as if to strike her. "I 
listened to you too long. What's worse, I believed you! The frigid little 
girl with all the puritanistic crap!" Suddenly, he caught her by the wrist 
and cruelly jerked her toward him, her voluptuous breasts jouncing from his 
force. "Well, when I get through with you tonight, baby, you'll think Peter 
Cortland was a schoolboy!" 

"Mark ... please, darling..." 

"And don't call me darling ... you ... you goddamned little whore!" 

"Listen to me, Mark..." she began, almost hysterically, "I love you ... 
always have ... never stopped ... My God ... don't ... don't do this thing 
to me again ... to us..." 

"You lousy bitch!" he spat. "You'd say anything right now, wouldn't you! 
Well go ahead say any goddamned thing you want, but when I get through 
fucking you, you'll wish to God you never knew me." 

"Mark, please...? " 

"Shut up!" he snarled. "I'm going to sink my cock in that cunt of yours like 
half of New York has already done." 

Lisa stared with an uncomprehending fear at her ex-husband's thick menacing 
penis jutting out with a rigid fierceness from his loins. She swallowed in 
abject horror as she saw the raging lust in his face, and the hate-swollen 
head of his reddened cock jerk violently in full erection, and she cringed 
before and beneath it. 

"Oh, my God, Mark ... please ... please ... not this way..." 

"I'm going to fuck you any way I like, bitch," he spat down at her whining 
head buried in the pillow. "Maybe with your ass waving high in the air the 
way Cortland-likes it. But first, I'm going to lick that beautiful little 
ass-hole of yours. I want to know if it tastes as sweet as it looks." 

Oh God in heaven, the terrified young woman couldn't believe what was taking 
place! She didn't look up, but felt him climb onto the couch, and her body 
lurched forward automatically as something warm and wet immediately 
contracted the area back between her widespread buttocks. Again, it came and 
she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her as it stopped to taunt her 
tiny puckered anus! Mark's tongue! It whipped her breath away and 
momentarily she froze, gradually relaxing as she heard the wetly sluicing 
sound of his tongue laving the smooth white cleft of her backside. Oh ... oh 
God ... it was ... was good ... good! It continued, and then, she felt the 
tight lips of her fevered cunt being pressed open harshly with his thumbs, 
and the cool air seeping in ... Oh Mark! Mark! 

"Darling!" she exclaimed, and he slapped her stingingly across the 
ass-cheeks. He raised his head and moved in close to her defenselessly 
up-thrust buttocks, his long hard cock dancing wildly as he pressed its 
lust-swollen head against her tightly puckered anal ring. 

"Now, you be a good girl and I'll wet this so it'll slip in nice and easy, 
understand?" 

Lisa didn't answer. 

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass. Understand?" he hissed down at her. "I 
just wanted you to know so you could cringe a little. Maybe, you haven't 
been screwed too much there yet, and it'll be still somewhat virginal..." 

"It's virginal!" she blurted up from the pillow at him, "I'm not what you 
think I am, and I want you to do it to me there! Hurt me. Punish me. I 
deserve it!" 

A thrill of excitement passed through Mark's revenge-crazed body. He looked 
down and saw his ex-wife's waggling buttocks, the tight little ring of 
hairless flesh exposed helplessly before his massive cock. God ... was he 
wrong? Then, he remembered the sight of her beneath Peter Cortland and 
straightened bitterly. To hell with you, bitch! 

He sank his finger into her semen-moistened cunt and smeared the lubricant 
over the tightly crinkled little aperture. He did it several times, then 
dipped the head of his eagerly pulsing cock between her sperm-coated cuntal 
lips before raising it up against her fearfully cringing anus. 

Lisa heard him laugh salaciously, and in both dread and anticipation, she 
snapped: "Go ahead! Fuck it, damn you! I'm ready ... fuck it!" 

And so he did! 

Without benefit of mercy, he pushed forward, and the kneeling young blonde 
felt the build up of pressure and then the sudden agony as his massive 
cock-head popped through the tight anal ring. Her breath caught in her 
throat as she was wracked by a spasm of pain so unbearable that she twisted 
and screamed as she struggled to escape the torturous instrument reaming 
into her back passage. 

"Oh ... oh, my God!" she had sorely misjudged his size and the capacity of 
her rectum. "You're splitting me, Mark! Stop! Stop!" she wailed back at him, 
her tightly flexed buttocks thrashing like some wild animal in the throes of 
a violent death struggle, and then she heard him laugh fiendishly and felt 
his talon-like fingers digging into the tender flesh of her hips. He held 
her vise-like, and her every jerk only helped to drive his rigid rod of 
flesh deeper and deeper inside her. 

"Shove back, damn you!" he snarled at her, slapping her nakedly cringing 
ass-cheeks once more. "Shove back, you bitch!" 

Lisa couldn't hold back the tears of pain and humiliation, yet her fear of 
disobeying him in his present half-crazed state forced her to respond. She 
hunched back suddenly as he pressed forward, and she felt his hotly 
throbbing penis surge without mercy up into her, pushing the tight resistant 
flesh before it until finally, with one last buttock-flattening lunge he had 
hammered it all the way up inside her warmly constricting rectal depths. 

"Oohhh, my God," the subserviently kneeling young wife moaned in her 
torment, biting at her lower lip until she tasted her own blood. Lisa 
groaned again as she felt his pelvis smack solidly into the softness of her 
upturned buttocks and his heavy balls swing hard against the spread lips of 
her wetly trembling vagina below. Dear God, she was impaled to the hilt, 
unable to move and afraid to breathe with the horrible pressure that felt as 
if her thighs were splitting apart. 

Mark's body stilled momentarily, as if he had found a tiny fleck of mercy in 
his revenge-crazed mind, and while the walls of her widely stretched rectum 
slowly adjusted, the brutal pain began to subside. She still felt ripped and 
stretched there from the unnatural invasion, while at the same time and for 
some perverted reason, she had even begun to experience a sensation of 
atonement. 

She deserved everything he was doing to her, and would do to her! It had 
been her fault they divorced, not his! She had nearly ruined their lives, 
and played the slut to obtain her portion of success in the bargain! She was 
a whore! And now she would willingly crawl before him, let him use her like 
a lowly slave if he wanted, endure whatever pain, degradation and 
humiliation he would inflict upon her to prove her love to him! 

"How do you like that, you filthy bitch?" he snarled down at her, grinding 
his pelvis hard between her flattened buttocks and seemingly attempting to 
shove his rigid penis right up through her belly and out her throat. Then, 
he flexed his lust-swollen shaft of thick flesh, and she gasped aloud in 
pain. 

Oh God, give me the strength to endure it! I must keep my wits... 

"Cortland ever get it in this deep, slut?" Mark grunted as he began to saw 
rhythmically in and out of her inflamed pink passage. 

I've got to reach him ... make him understand. . .for when he's through with 
me tonight I'll never see him again ... This will truly be the end for us 
... it's now or never... 

Mark groaned as suddenly he felt his ex-wife's anal muscles tighten around 
his long thick length buried far up inside her rectum. His steel-hard cock 
throbbed harder, and he could barely believe it when the soft moons of her 
smooth naked buttocks began to churn back against him in a slow methodical 
undulation. He moaned again as he felt her anal channel convulse and tighten 
around him warmly while he moved in and out of her, watching her puckered 
little anus clinging to his angry shaft as he drew out and then disappeared 
back inside her rectum with his inward thrust. 

Lisa, kneeling before and beneath him, knew that she must do something to 
reach him, to make him understand how much she loved him. In her obscene 
position she began to rotate her buttocks in lewd little circles, waving her 
voluptuous ass-cheeks back at him lasciviously, until it dawned upon her 
that undoubtedly there was some whore in her, for she had begun to 
experience a tingle of masochistic excitement. Oh God, she wanted to enjoy 
it: had to enjoy it to make him feel her love. There was still pain, but it 
was strangely pleasurable and she found herself bucking and squirming back 
to meet the lewd impalement while he jerked forward into her. 

"Damn! You are a bitch!" he hissed down at her bitterly, grunting each time 
he surged forward; she, too, had begun to moan almost incessantly and 
uncontrollably beneath him, twisting and waving the whiteness of her 
ass-cheeks back at him in a lustful invitation to fuck harder and deeper. 

"No . . .no!" she managed to cough at him. "No one has ... has ever done ... 
done this to me ... before. It's ... it's you, Mark ... darling ... I-I love 
you ... don't you see?" 

She turned her face to the side on the bed, and he could see her teeth bared 
in ecstatic delight, her tongue flicking out wetly in time to the increasing 
power of his smooth strokes plunging deep into her. Her long blonde hair 
flowed out over the bed, flailing wildly as with each violent thrust she 
would grunt and toss her head to the other side. 

Could it be true, the crazed husband thought, his brain reeling in its 
revenge-intent state? Did she really love him? Had he misjudged her? 

"Ooooooh, oooooh," Lisa moaned and grunted beneath him while he pressed 
forward as far as he could, pulling the soft trembling cheeks of her ass 
wide apart, allowing him to fuck deeper up into her rectum. His bludgeoning 
cock was buried to his very testicles up inside her hotly clasping rectal 
flesh, and the erotic stimulation made him grasp. 

"Ooooooh, darling ... let go of my hands," she pleaded. "Please ... I want 
to feel your beautiful balls while you fuck me there...? " 

"Huh? Wh-what?" 

"Please, darling?" 

He pulled his massively pulsating cock out of her suddenly, his mind a 
whirlpool of muddled thoughts. Good God, what am I doing to her? He let go 
the vise-like hold he'd had on her wrists. 

"Wh-what have I done to you, darling?" he gulped. 

Lisa threw her arms around his neck and passionately kissed him. She had 
rolled onto her back and drawn him down to her, her full white breasts 
crushed against his chest. He felt her tiny tongue push into his mouth, and 
he wanted to weep with spontaneous joy. 

"Ooooooh ... oh, Mark, my darling, I love you ... love you ... love you!" 
she breathed sweetly into his face. 

"And I love you!" he gasped. "Always have ... never stopped. Oh God, the 
things I've done to you tonight..." 

Tears streamed down his handsome cheeks as she held his head in against her 
lushly ripened breasts in delicious ecstasy. Thank God, she had reached him! 

"C-Can you ever forgive me, Lisa?" 

She smiled to herself, then whispered". "Yes, darling, on one condition..." 

"What?" He pulled his head free and looked down into her beautiful face. 
"Anything ... anything..." 

"Then finish the job you started before I go mad. I was almost ready to 
cum," she said, quickly rising up to her knees and grinding her naked 
ass-cheeks back at him in lewd invitation. 

"Christ!" her ex-husband blurted, scrambling to his own knees behind her as 
she reached between her legs and gently grasped his fully erect penis, 
drawing its pulsating head between the soft moist fingers of her wetly 
flowing cunt once more to lubricate it, then placing its rubber tip again 
against her eagerly puckering anus. 

"Easy, darling," she said softly. "It's a little sore now." 

"We don't have to do it this way," Mark blurted contritely. "I I was trying 
to hurt you before..." 

"No, darling. I want you to fuck me there," Lisa said excitedly. "To be the 
first one who ever has. I want it to hurt me. I deserve to be hurt by you, 
my darling!" she insisted, a masochistic gleam dancing in her eyes. She 
lowered her hand to cradle his heavily hanging balls back between her legs, 
scraping her nails over them in a teasing motion that caused him to grunt 
loudly as he pressed the spongy, blood-inflated head of his now aching cock 
into her tight little anus once more, unable to control the fury of his 
lunge as he sent it soaring right up her still expanded opening. 

"Ooooh oooh," Lisa groaned as his pelvis smacked loudly against her 
ass-cheeks again. "Oh my God, darling, it hurts beautifully," she moaned. 
"Oh Mark, fuck it! Rape it! Make me know that you love me! Fuck me hard, 
darling! Hard! Hard!" 

Mark gasped and listened to her words in lewd rapture as she jerked back 
against his lustful sodomizing of her innocent rectum, as though she were 
reveling in its depraved possession of her virginal anus. The pain had 
obviously gone and her head was turning from side to side once more, her 
beautiful long blonde hair thrashing wildly. Her beautiful face reflected 
her sheer joy, and Mark watched his throbbing white shaft of rock-hard flesh 
disappearing all the way into her wildly gyrating buttocks with each hard 
thrust. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Lisa chanted as she waved her unblemished ass-cheeks 
salaciously back against his eager plunges. She wanted him to cum, to shoot 
his hot load of sperm deep up into her belly, to split her open and drown 
her in its loveliness. The beautiful ecstasy of it! He was raping her 
virginal ass-hole, just as he had raped her cunt in the very beginning! Only 
this time, it would be different! He had come back to her, and she would 
hold him! Later, this night, she would suck him dry! He was her own Mark, 
home forever! "Oh ... oh yes, darling, fuck it like that!" she crooned 
deliriously back at him. 

She could feel a great wetness in her anal crevice now, and there was no 
pain, only the feeling of being filled to capacity by the one man she loved. 
Her shoulders lowered to the bed so that her voluptuous ass-cheeks were now 
sticking high up in the air and her darling's huge beautiful cock could fuck 
her at will. Her eyes glazed in her blissful rapture, and she ground happily 
back against it, feeling it throb into unbelievable hugeness that could only 
mean the moment was at hand. 

He was going to cum in her back there! Again, she reached back to graze and 
caress his pulsating balls as she felt the first delicious hot waves of his 
male liquid squirting far up into the depths of her rectum. He grunted and 
groaned as he continued to fuck in and out of her convulsing rectal channel, 
while Lisa felt his hot jets of sperm splashing around inside her belly. The 
magnificent sensation brought her own release, and she screamed, "I'm 
cumming ... oh ... oh, darling, I'm cumming!" The hot flow gushed from her 
open young cunt, saturating his emptying balls pressed tightly into it, and 
flowed in a silver river down her trembling thighs. 

Moments later, he crawled up beside her and they collapsed in each other's 
arms. Then, Lisa wept in happiness. Neither of them trusted themselves to 
speak for a long, long time. Words really weren't necessary anyway. 
Everything was going to be all right now ... and they both knew it with all 
their young, vibrant hearts. 


THE END
