The Disillusioned Virgin
by Georgia Daniels 


The strange story of Chris Cooper's transformation from an overly naive 
young college student to a mature woman is one that needs to be told. We 
would like to thank Miss Daniels for this shockingly sexual, but still 
romantic reworking of this old myth. 


FOREWORD 

Two of the world's most famous lovers are Orpheus and Eurydice, the two 
characters from Greek mythology who are continually losing and discovering 
one another. According to one of the more well-known versions of their 
story, Orpheus is the young man whom the gods have encharged with singing 
and playing to the sun, so that it will rise and set. Unfortunately, Orpheus 
becomes so involved with his music that his girl friend, Eurydice, is 
enchanted by Hermes, the god of the lower depths and dragged down to the 
underworld. 

In The Disillusioned Virgin by Georgia Daniels, the young actress, Christina 
Cooper, becomes involved with a celebrity and through infatuation with him, 
allows herself to be lured into an underworld of sexual violence that she 
had never dreamed to exist. What happens is an interesting variation on the 
Orphic myth, with new insights emerging out of the fabric of the age-old 
tale of descent and resurrection, immolation and revival. 


CHAPTER ONE 

For Christina Cooper, it all began on the Biloxi Beach twenty miles outside 
of New Orleans. Overhead the sun was a large silver disc. The sky was light 
blue and cloudless and everywhere the young blonde looked she was surrounded 
by people. 

"An orgy?" she giggled to the thirty-ish blond man stretched out on a beach 
towel beside her. 

"No, you're trying to give it a label," Ken Scarboro smiled. "I just said 
there'll be dates and wives present ... though not necessarily with their 
spouses. You don't have to participate if ... " 

"I don't want to." 

Christina gave a small laugh, at herself, at the impossible situation. 

Her eyes jumped over Scarboro to where his young partner, Tom Hill, lay on 
the other side of him. Hill gave her a quizzical look, then closed his eyes. 
When she first sat down beside the pair, Tom had acted interested in her, 
but now he seemed to have conceded the race to Scarboro. 

"You say you do some modeling?" Scarboro's eyes flicked over her pretty 
young face. "And you act, you're studying drama ... " 

"Yes," Chris interrupted. "And I forgot to tell you ... I played Eurydice in 
the big spring production at Tulane Drama School." 

"I don't know anything about plays," Scarboro admitted. 

"Well, it was the lead," Chris just had to point out, trying not to betray 
her nervousness. 

Inside, she was flipping! Last night she had seen the well-known songwriter, 
among a slew of other celebrities visiting New Orleans for the Polio 
Marathon Benefit, on the late night Jack Jervis TV talk show. 

Today her eyes had practically bugged out of her head when she found herself 
sitting right next to the guy on the beach. And now he was inviting her to a 
private party that sounded to her like an orgy! 

"I don't mean to put down New Orleans," Scarboro said. "But don't you think 
you should go to California or New York if you want to be an actress?" 

"I'm still studying," Chris blushed as the songwriter's eyes flickered over 
her youthfully voluptuous figure. The curvy young blonde was used to furtive 
glances like that from men. Ordinarily, she'd just give the guy her deep 
freeze look, but that was hard to do with someone as important and 
attractive as Scarboro. In a way, she even enjoyed his looks - they made her 
feel excitingly naked and sent strange tingling ripples up and down her 
belly and thighs. 

"Well, it's up to you ... about the party," he shrugged. "Look, I've given 
you the address. You tell them at the door you're a friend of mine. It'll be 
a good opportunity for you to make some contacts." 

"I don't know," Christina sighed and looked at her watch. It was three 
o'clock. She had to go to a stupid acting class ... at what very well might 
be one of the most important moments in her life. Maybe Ken Scarboro was 
right! 

Now the songwriter turned back to his partner, tried to pierce through the 
sullen mood the dark-haired young man seemed to have fallen into. 

"What say we take a side-trip to Florida? After all, we've got a few days. 
Then we can fly back to California." 

The tall, long-haired younger man didn't answer. All afternoon he had said 
nothing but things like "weird" and "far out" and "crazy". 

"Jerry Mitchell's got a place in Florida. I read in the trades he's on 
location in Nevada. I think I'll give him a ring. I'm sure he wouldn't mind 
if we stayed there." 

"Sounds good to me," the young man finally said. 

Reluctantly, Chris stood up, making as much noise as she could as she 
gathered her sandals, her portable radio. She wrapped her beach towel around 
her neck. 

"You're not leaving?" the songwriter sensed her movement and looked up. 

"I've got a meeting with my drama coach," Chris groaned, trying to sound 
professional, but knowing at the same time he probably thought it was pretty 
stupid. 

"Damn, you're a pretty girl," Scarboro wrinkled up the corners of his eyes. 
"If you don't come to the party, take care of yourself. It's been a great 
afternoon." 

She turned and then heard him say, "Hey, Chris, I said you were pretty, but 
I was wrong." 

She blushed. "Pardon?" 

"You're a beautiful girl," he said. 

"Oh!" she said, shaking his hand and blushing again, much to her 
embarrassment. 

She stood there for a moment, waiting for God-knows-what ... then saw 
Scarboro look at her as though he'd been expecting her to leave. "Well ... 
good-bye, Chris," Scarboro smiled. 

She walked rapidly up the sand, trying to suppress a wave of disappointment 
that threatened to make the lovely afternoon end in depression. Despite her 
stunning looks, Chris was a lonely girl, romantically speaking. Boys her own 
age somehow bored her ... and older, experienced types like Scarboro weren't 
exactly in abundance on a college campus. She thought: I've been on this 
campus three years and I haven't been in love ... no ... not once! Now 
Scarboro had rushed her and flattered her, but from his casual tone Chris 
realized she would most likely never see the celebrity songwriter again! 

On the bus back to New Orleans, the curvaceous blonde saw one of her 
classmates from Tulane, Diana Jenkins, but she pretended not to have noticed 
the girl and took a seat in the back. She had a little secret of her own 
deep inside her, even though it wasn't much of one and she didn't want 
anything to disturb it. The water was high on the Lake Pontchartrain bridge 
crossing over from swampy flood land to Louisiana. Chris closed her eyes and 
it seemed she could still see the little waves spraying on the bridge ... He 
said I was beautiful ... God, he thought I was beautiful ... 

Opening her eyes, she saw they were passing the summer houses on stilts and 
the orange oil derricks across the salt marsh from Grand Teche Bayou. She 
felt in her beach bag for the address Scarboro had given her as the bus 
crossed down Esplanade Avenue and pulled up in Jackson Square. 

Chris waited until everyone ... particularly Diana Jenkins ... had filed 
out. Then, after getting off the bus, she still held back a moment in the 
square, out of shame and embarrassment for having ignored the girl. As 
usual, the square was filled with hippies, a group with some guitars 
gathered around the stature of General Jackson mounted on a horse. Bright 
mid-afternoon sun glinted off the old Pontalba Buildings and gray St. Louis 
Cathedral. When the hot August sun became too much, Chris put on her 
sunglasses and began working her way past the bars and antique shops through 
the narrow sidewalks that were crowded with tourists. This was to be her 
last class of summer session and the group was meeting in her teacher's 
apartment in honor of the occasion; afterwards, the lonely two-week break 
before fall semester loomed depressingly ahead. Everyone will be gone, she 
thought, moving down Pirate's Alley deeper into the vieux carre, New 
Orleans' old French Quarter proper. Finally, she reached the ancient 
balconied building; a golden beer bottle flashed down at her, set out among 
the potted plants behind the lacy grillwork. Chris hurried through the entry 
to the inner court. By the time she was scrambling up the old staircase, she 
knew she would be going to the party. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

"How the hell you going to get back to New Orleans?" 

"Take a bus," Tom Hill said. 

"Take a bus," Ken Scarboro repeated. He frowned, he shook his head, but 
after working two years with the lanky, dark-haired musician he was no 
longer really astounded by his partner's eccentricities. He gestured down 
the beach toward the light surf. "I suppose you want to see the sunset." 

"You got no appreciation for nature," Tom's eyes squinted back up at him - 
partly from amusement, partly from the four o'clock sun glinting off the 
white sand. 

Scarboro's glance flicked searchingly over the emptying beach. "I guess I 
don't," he admitted. "I guess I'm just a city boy." He looked back down at 
Tom and said honestly, "You know it doesn't mean a damn thing to me ... " 

"Well, catch you later," he swatted the younger man's shoulder and started 
back up the sand towards the beach house. 

"So long," Tom called after him. 

Ten minutes later, coming out of the men's dressing room, Scarboro 
remembered something he had forgotten to ask Tom. He was dressed in an 
orange polo shirt, sandals and white slacks; he had showered and there was a 
faint, tangy odor of men's cologne about him. Heading toward the blue 
Plymouth the Benefit Committee had provided, he realized he had forgotten to 
ask if Tom was going to the party. But, cleaned up now, he didn't feel like 
walking back down the beach to ask. Fuck it. He slid into the 
leathery-smelling front seat and turned on the air-conditioning. Tom wasn't 
going to the party. As though the sun wouldn't set without him, Tom would 
sit on the beach, playing his guitar, spend the night wandering through the 
French Quarter ... 

Scarboro took the coastal route back into New Orleans, a narrow two-lane 
highway. On one side was the shimmering blue gulf, the white sand; on the 
other, large colonial homes set back under oleander and cypress and huge oak 
trees dripping Spanish moss. Ken wasn't too interested in nature, but he was 
in houses. Still, today, his mind was on something else. The first thing he 
did when he got back to his suite at the Royal Hotel, was to call the Hilton 
to see if his long-time girl friend, Micki Grant, had come in ... 

Already, he was nervous. It had been two long months since he'd seen her. 

"Hey, baby!" 

There was no answer. 

"Micki? Ken." 

"I know ... " the brunette singer's voice came down the wire to him cool and 
distant. "So ... ?" 

"I'd like to see you." 

"Is that right?" she gave a deep throaty laugh. "What for?" She was being 
difficult. "Why, Ken darling, you know I'm a married woman now." 

Ken flinched and tried a more direct tack. "You know what for," he said in a 
low meaningful voice. 

Once again, there was no answer. She was taunting him. He knew that, but he 
just had to see her, to hold her wild young body in his arms again ... 

"I want to fuck you, that's why ... Is that old coot you married in yet? If 
so, then you get over here. I'm at the Royal." 

Micki broke out in a soft laugh that sent shudders up and down his spine. 
"Ken, you could never order me around." 

"Yeah," he smiled into the huge mirror placed above the bed in the canopy. 

"Not that anyone could." 

"True," he smiled into the mirror again. "Look, Micki, you're beautiful, 
you're really big-time. But you're also a goddamn sadist." 

"And you love me," she mused. "You're even willing to crawl." 

That hit him right between the eyes. With an effort of will, Ken Scarboro 
controlled his sudden, rising anger. 

"I don't care if you've gone and gotten yourself married. It's been two 
months now. I can't wait any longer!" 

"Please, Ken. This is getting ridiculous." 

"You bet it is." 

Micki was silent for a moment, then he heard the spark of a match as she lit 
a cigarette. "I don't know. I would like to see you ... it's just that ... " 

"Is that what's-his-name in town yet?" he interrupted. "I figure you can 
come up to my hotel room if he is." 

She giggled. "No, Jack's flying in for the show at ten ... But let's live 
dangerously and you come over to the Hilton ... if you want to see me that 
bad." 

Just the idea made Ken sweat even more than he already was. Micki had made 
herself quite a match, too big of a match. Jack Maregan, her fifty-ish 
husband, was among the powerful group of owners of a major movie studio. 
Officially, he was called a producer. He was also a financial octopus with 
business interests tentacling into music publishing, recording, nightclubs 
... all areas where Ken was vulnerable. 

"It'd be a little risky," he hedged, consulting his wrist watch. "It's 
already five o'clock ... and he might come in early. Anyway, it's easier for 
you to leave a note ... " 

"Look, Ken ... I have to sing tonight! If you've got to see me so damned 
bad, then you come over to my hotel. I just returned from rehearsal, I've 
got to have some kind of dinner!" 

"Please ... Micki darling?" 

"Crawl, then, damn you!" she taunted. 

"Okay, baby! I wouldn't do it for anybody else. I'll be there in about forty 
minutes!" Ken said and hung up the phone. 

Goddamned cunt! It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life: 
Swallow his pride and beg after the alluring brunette. Christ! It was like a 
goddamned curse. Other people developed fatal diseases, got hooked on drugs, 
he had to fall in love Micki Grant. That's what it was - a curse. Nothing 
else could explain to him why he still cared about his former girl friend, 
although she'd left him over two years ago to marry the rich producer. 

Ken's hotel was located on Royal Street and he had some difficulty 
maneuvering his large car through the narrow streets of the old French 
Quarter. He headed west and finally got out of the Quarter and into a 
perfectly ordinary looking business district of skyscrapers on Canal Street. 
Since it was Saturday, the offices were closed. It was easy going and within 
minutes he found her hotel. Now he was smarting at Micki's wise-ass comment 
on his age. He was thirty-six and quite frankly, he was getting a little 
tired of having to haunt the cocktail lounges, looking for pick-ups ... 

With her usual unpredictability, the curvaceous brunette greeted him with 
her dazzling smile, melted into his arms and raised her lush red lips to 
him, open-mouthed, for his kiss. Ken's eyes burned down her half-naked body 
as he bent his head. Also typical of Micki, she'd answered the door in only 
the briefest of black brassiere and panties. 

"Hi, baby," she purred. 

Ken held her close in the circle of his arms, his hand groping down along 
her back to her full-swelling buttocks. Eagerly, his fingers dug through the 
soft panty material into her resiliently rounded ass-cheeks, while at the 
same time he absorbed her tongue slithering erotically into his mouth. Her 
warm cuntal mound was plastered solid and hard against his hotly expanding 
cock. As he pulled her in even tighter, he felt her hips rotate suggestively 
against his throbbing penis. 

God! It was just like old times again! With Micki it was always great; the 
voluptuously stacked brunette knew all the little tricks that made fucking 
her a wild experience. and she never gets enough ... always coming back for 
more? 

Ken lost his train of thought as hot blood pumped pulsingly below to be 
trapped in his hardening penis. He felt his contracting balls being drawn 
tight as his erection grew to pulsating fullness inside his straining 
slacks. It was a mind-blowing feeling and he savored every moment of it. 
Damn! He was anxious to get her into a bed ... 

Finally, several moments later, the intoxicating young brunette leaned back 
in the circle of his strong arms, breaking their kiss. She grinned teasingly 
into his face through smoldering gray eyes and asked. "Drink, Ken?" 

"You're not on the wagon, I take it?" he grinned back at her. 

"Well, not really now," Micki answered. "I was, but I had time to think 
about it ... while I was waiting for you to get here." 

With an impish grin, she turned and led the way from the foyer into the 
elegantly modernistic living room of the large hotel suite. Boxes of records 
and tapes and half-opened suitcases were still strung around on the plush 
white carpet. 

Ken followed, enjoying the view of her sexily swaying hips. Her loosely 
waving coal-black hair tousled softly down past her shoulder blades. She was 
about the same height as Ken, statuesque and her firm and sun-bronzed 
curving legs tapered with absolute perfection. Shit! He couldn't begin to 
count the times he'd been cradled between those gripping thighs as he shoved 
his demanding cock deep into her tight little cunt. 

Going directly to the bar, Micki turned back toward him and asked, "What'll 
you have ... ?" 

"Just you ... " he responded. 

"Isn't that something?" she gave him a teasing look. "Ken Scarboro turning 
down a drink!" 

"And for a damned good reason!" he told her, reaching her in three long 
steps to pull her scantily covered body close again into his arms. His 
hungry mouth crushed against hers as his tongue shot splurgingly between her 
parting lips into her moist warm mouth to search and taste. Obligingly, she 
nibbled and sucked on his thrusting tongue. Moments later, her hand slid in 
between them to softly caress his pants-enclosed penis. 

"Oh yeah, hold my cock." Scarboro found the tab to his zippered fly to lower 
it, the metallic sigh seeming louder than it really was over the soft music 
coming from the stereo system. After a second's hesitation, the pretty 
singer snaked her hand inside the waistband of his jockey shorts to grip the 
warmly pulsating shaft. Her stroking fingers played along his massively 
hardened cock until it stood up long and hard in her hand. 

"Uuuuuh, that's right, keep touching my cock," the young songwriter thrilled 
at her clasping touch, his lust-thickened penis lurching involuntarily in 
her encircling hand. Simultaneously, his hands ran down her nearly naked 
back. When they reached the curving hollow of her spine, his hands eased 
down inside her silky black panties to caress her undulating buttocks, 
feeling them warm and vibrant in his gripping palms. Now he had to get her 
stripped naked! 

Breaking the tongue parrying kiss, Ken leaned back away from her to undo her 
lacy black brassiere. 

"It's been a long time, lover," she said, moving back from him before he 
could get the clasp undone. 

"That seems to be our theme song," he laughed. 

Her eyes dropped to the obvious bulge of his pants. "I see your good reason 
for coming over here," she said, pulling away from him suddenly. 

Micki moved back to the bar clad in her temptingly sheer black brassiere and 
panties and Scarboro zipped up his fly again. Following behind her, he 
responded, "And I'm about to fuck the daylights out of you with it." 

The brunette singer picked up a bottle of vermouth and Ken put it back. She 
reached for some gin, but he slid it away down the counter before she could 
make the connection. "Did you hear what I said?" 

"You want to fuck me." 

Scarboro turned her around, his hands on her shoulders. Shrugging out from 
his strong grip, she swung back to the bar and began making them drinks. 
"I'm sorry, Ken," she looked sorrowfully up at him. "But there just isn't 
time." 

"Time? For Chrissakes, we got all evening!" 

"Now, don't get mad. I just had a call from Jack," she turned from the bar 
with a helpless expression on her face. "He left Los Angeles early. He's due 
at any moment." 

"BULLSHIT!" Scarboro felt himself losing control. "You don't know how tired 
I am of your little games." 

"No games, Ken. It's true ... Hey, what are you doing?" She followed as he 
left the room for the entry hallway. 

"Making sure this frigging door is locked," he said resolutely. 

"No, Ken. Don't do that," she protested from where she stood now in the 
entry of the foyer. Hopefully, Ken thought he detected a wavering in her 
voice. "Wellllll, it's safer to leave the front door unlocked ... I'll lock 
my bedroom. I can always be pouting." 

Goddamn! Now she's going out of her way so I can ball her! Micki changed 
moods with every tick of the clock. Women! I'll be damned if I understand 
them! Not that he was complaining, though ... now. 

"And which one of these doors is to your bedroom?" Ken grinned as he stepped 
back into the living room. 

"The one on the right," she smiled. "But don't say I didn't warn you. We're 
up thirteen stories." 

Then they were in a large slightly darkened bedroom, orange-ish in the 
half-light and Ken was kicking off his sandals and dropping his pants. 

"Mmmmmmm ... same old Ken," his former girl friend watched him from where 
she sat on the edge of one of the two king-sized beds, her eyes playing 
eagerly over his muscular, broad-shouldered body as he took off his shirt. 
Finally, he stepped out of his jockey shorts and stood naked before her, his 
pulsing erection spearing out excitedly from the reddish-blond pubic hair 
covering his loins. 

"Let's see those tits, now." The songwriter came to her, reached around 
behind and unfastened the hooks of her lacy black brassiere. The flimsy 
cloth came off in his hands to release her voluptuously full breasts, the 
valley between them narrow and deep. Damn! She was such a mouth-watering 
delicacy. In the next instant, he had dropped his mouth to one of her 
spiked-out nipples. His lips engulfed it to suck and nibble, while his hand 
cupped its sensually full twin, his strong fingers digging passionately into 
the pliant flesh. She moaned softly as he sank down beside her on the huge 
bed. As they lay on their sides, her hips undulated in tiny massaging 
circles against his aching penis trapped between their tightly pressed 
bellies. 

Jack Maregan's wife felt that telling weakness in her knees, which signaled 
her building arousal. Ken always seemed to affect her like that ... Ken was 
the best! 

Backing away from him and forcing him to stop his ardent sucking of her 
swaying breasts, Micki reached for a pillow and stretched out again on the 
bed. She lay on her side facing him, her smoldering eyes wandering hungrily 
over his lust-stiffened cock. He was gaping at her temptingly lush nakedness 
and she reached out and under to stroke his lust-sensitized testicles. 

"Ken ... darling, I've got to tell you something," she began. 

"Can't it wait, baby?" 

"No," she answered levelly. "I want to tell you now. I'm going to Europe ... 
for six months. I don't want to, Ken, but Jack insists." 

Six months! Ken fought the gruesome thought out of his consciousness for 
now. "You pick the damnedest times to talk, Micki! What I want right now is 
to get into your hot little cunt!" 

"Okay, but we'd better do it quickly, darling ... because we don't have much 
time ... remember?" 

Her hand was still fondling, scratching lightly along his churning 
testicles. With the other, she grasped his rock-hard cock, expertly working 
the loose foreskin back over the angry red head. A tiny, viscous droplet 
oozed from the split in its tip as his lust-stiffened penis jerked and 
expanded involuntarily in her clasping palm. 

"Yeah, I know," his voice came over irritated in his disappointment. "So are 
we going to do some fucking ... or waste more time talking?" 

"I just wanted ... " 

Her statement was cut off in mid-utterance as his hand clamped over her 
upper thigh. 

"Oh, Jesus, I love your hand on my panties," Micki looked down at the 
songwriter's hand caressing her loins just at the edge of her skimpy black 
panties. She moaned as he made contact with the tight elastic crotch band up 
between her legs, his fingers rubbing the moistly throbbing lips of her 
vagina through the soft smooth nylon. Shuddering at the warm touch, her 
trembling thighs jerked farther apart. Her legs wanted to spread wide, her 
hot little pussy needing his thickly worming finger far up inside her belly. 

"Oh, yes! Finger-fuck me!" the dark-haired singer pleaded. 

She shivered as his extended middle finger slipped up under the tight 
elastic panty leg band at the top of her thigh. Then another finger was 
inserted and together they thrust probingly at her sparse hair-covered 
cuntal lips, sending a jolt of wild excitement rippling upward through her 
thinly clad belly. 

"Oh, Ken, it's so good ... don't stop ... please!" She gave a helpless moan 
under his lewdly massaging hand. 

The blond-haired bachelor gazed lustfully down at her parted thighs and saw 
the escaping pussy hairs spilling out from the leg band in teasing black 
wisps. He could see his own fingers beneath the sheer black panty fabric, 
fondling her moist vaginal lips, could feel her pussy's intimate warmth 
hungering for him to touch the wetly erected little bud of her clitoris! 

Ken moved his middle finger closer to her hot little pussy opening as she 
stroked his rapidly enlarging penis. Ever so slowly, he parted her soft dark 
pubic curls and eased his finger up into the wetly throbbing orifice of her 
cunt, slipping it up inside her warmly quivering flesh until it was hidden 
almost to the first joint in her dilating vagina; then he gave a slight, 
tender shove forward. She twisted, squirmed and leaned lewdly back on the 
mattress, her long white legs parting for more as her loins arched up onto 
his embedded finger. Her cunt was wonderfully tight, he thought, as tight as 
the day he had first fucked her! The dampness from her lust-warmed vagina 
spread down over his cupping hand, soaking the narrow panty crotch band with 
secreted cuntal juices that were just beginning to flow between her 
trembling thighs. 

"Oooooooh, God ... Ken, your hand on my pussy feels so good ... so goooood. 
God, honey, take off my panties!" 

With a low murmur of lewd agreement, Ken wound his fingers into the tight 
elastic waistband of her skimpy black panties and worked them slowly down 
over her gently flaring buttocks and legs and off her ankles. 

"Uuuuuuuuuuooooo," she crooned at the sudden presence of the cool air 
washing over her exposed curl-fringed cuntal mound. 

In the next second, he had pushed her down hard on her back. Taking one 
hurried look at her lust-inciting nakedness spread out on the mattress 
beneath him, he crawled up between her widespread knees. The peach silk 
bedspread brushed against his sperm-laden balls, sending an obscene 
anticipatory thrill through him. He shoved her thighs roughly apart so that 
they swung out from his sides in a picture of lewd urgency. Then he kneeled 
up on the bed, his long thick penis poling and wagging in its fore-skinned 
hardness. 

"Oh, Ken darling, my beautiful darling, with his beautiful cock!" She 
moaned, gasping at its solid hardness, feeling its head and the thick 
seminal fluid escaping from the tiny hole at the tip of the blunt purplish 
cock-head. 

Damn, damn, damn! He was going to lose his mind completely. Scarboro's 
desire-hazed brain sizzled as he crawled up between the producer's wife's 
lewdly widespread legs. Her thighs seemed to be trying to suck him right up 
into her womb and the long two-month wait for the enticing brunette singer 
had charged him to an early combustion point. He felt her hand reach down to 
grasp his lust-engorged cock-shaft and draw its heavily pulsing head up 
through the warm moistness between her hair-lined pussy lips ... finally 
seating it at the tight little mouth of her greedily nibbling vagina. 

"Oh, baby, do it to my pussy! Push it all the way up into me. Fuck me!" 
Micki gasped into his face, her arms wrapped around his back to crush his 
massive chest tight against her nipple-hardened breasts. 

Her long trim legs curled up and over his hips, her heels digging 
salaciously into his rock-hard buttocks as she thrust her begging loins up 
at his in brazen invitation. 

"For God's sakes! Give it to me now, my darling! Fuck me!! Ken! FUCK ME AND 
MAKE IT GOOD!" 

With one smooth forward thrust of his hips, Ken lunged deep into her hotly 
throbbing cunt, his brain crazy and spinning as her fluid heat clasped his 
thick racing cock like a warm velvet sheath! He choked out a slack-mouthed 
groan and began to fuck up into her insatiably swallowing pussy in long 
urgent strokes, filling her wetly receptive cunt to greater and greater 
depths! 

Jesus, she felt good! 

As usual, Micki was tossing herself up at him like a whore, always more 
turned on than any other woman he'd known in his life. Christ! Goddamnit to 
hell! Beneath him, his girl friend's lushly ripened body quivered and 
trembled, her passion-erect nipples digging into his chest with pointed, 
bullet-shaped pressure. Her rippling belly ground up against his and her 
powerful thighs clamped his buttocks repeatedly. They held and released him 
as her wildly clasping vaginal muscles sucked and pulled like a warm wet 
vacuum at his pistoning cock. 

The obscenely sucking pressure caused a wild swirling in his groin. He could 
feel the enormous turgid head impatiently welling in his cum-expanding balls 
as he squeezed his buttocks together to hold back the hot liquid flow that 
was about to explode from his jerking penis. 

"C'mon, Micki baby, cum," he gritted hoarsely in her ear. 

He counted to himself, holding his breath, trying to stave off what was only 
a matter of seconds away ... "Oh Christ," he sputtered to the furious 
milking of her pussy walls squeezing and sucking at his madly jerking 
hardness. 

"Ooooooooh, it's wonderful honey!" Micki's choking words rose above the 
obscene squeaking of the bed. "Mmmmmmmm, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" she 
gasped over and over again as she strained and writhed beneath him. "Give it 
to me, darling. Do it! Do it! Fuck me haaaaaaard!" 

Her head rolled from side to side, streaming her blue-black hair over his 
sweating shoulders and back. Marks appeared on her lips where she was biting 
them and every so often her moist panting mouth came up against him, her 
teeth nipping into his chest in pleasure-tinged pain. She sucked lewdly on 
his tongue, then flicked her own into his mouth, gasping hot breaths into 
his throat. 

Suddenly, the producer's young wife realized that Ken's burgeoning cock up 
inside her belly was about to explode; she could feel it! The sensation 
excited her to a fever pitch of desire and her motions became even more 
frantic beneath him. His fucking thrusts into her wildly quivering pussy 
became almost brutal in their force. Wilder and wilder he became, tossing 
her nakedly writhing body beneath him without consideration in his own 
obscene race toward orgasm. 

Then ... she began to cum ... and cum ... and cum some more ... just like 
she always did with him ... almost unendingly. "Oh, I'm there! I'm 
cummmmmming! I'm cummmmmmmmmming! AAAAAAAAGGGGH! OH GOD! Fuck me! 
FUCCCKKKKKK MEEEEEEEE!" Distantly she heard her own voice screaming, "Fuck 
me" over and over again - like a broken record stuck in one groove. 

Ken, also, hardly heard the words she was groaning out at him. He could feel 
the hot thick sperm amassed in the reservoir of his ballooning balls 
churning as they beat a tattoo against her nakedly upturned ass. He thrust 
his tongue almost to her throat and with desperate kneading hands, clutched 
the fleshy cheeks of her widespread buttocks hard up against his battering 
pelvis, slamming his semen-spewing cock into her gluttonously receiving 
cunt. 

"Oooooooooohhhh ... uuuuuhhhhhhhh," Scarboro uncontrollably groaned at the 
first jetting of his scalding sperm. He could feel the turgid, pulsating 
head of his deeply embedded cock suddenly flare as his hot impatient cum 
began to flood up inside her spasming belly. He could feel his seething 
white cum shooting into her with the exploding force of a broken fire hose, 
sloshing around in her eagerly receptive vagina. He continued to shoot the 
last of his semen, then, trembling, he relaxed on top of her, panting deeply 
for several moments, before he finally lifted off. 

They lay there silently for a few seconds when suddenly, from each room in 
the large suite, there was the sound of several telephones ringing 
simultaneously. With wide, surprised eyes, Micki looked at him helplessly 
and moaned, "Oh, my God! Jack's here!" 

They were galvanized into action. Ken jumped off the bed and began tugging 
on his clothes. Micki stared frightened at the wall, letting several rings 
go by, before she picked up the telephone. 

"Hello? ... Oh, Jack, darling ... I was sleeping ... no, don't bring them up 
... I'll meet you in the bar. Well, okay, dear, if you insist!" She put down 
the phone and said to Ken, "He's coming right up!" 

Scarboro was dressed now, running a comb through his hair. "When can we get 
together?" 

"No! God, not again in New Orleans!" Micki followed him to the bedroom door. 

He brushed her lips quickly with a kiss, "But you'll be gone for ... so 
long!" 

"I'm sorry, Ken ... but I can't help it!" 

In the hallway, Scarboro stepped into an empty elevator just as Micki's 
husband was stepping off one further down. The tall, hugely built older man 
crossed down the hallway, glanced in at Ken. A flash of recognition swept 
across his face, then the elevator door closed tight between them. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

New Orleans' most impressive street is probably St. Charles Avenue - a long 
boulevard with a trolley running down the center and lined on either side by 
huge southern mansions. Christina Cooper lived on Ferret Street just two 
blocks off of St. Charles. Here the mansions thinned out to be interspersed 
by more modest houses and Chris lived in one of these - a narrow, two story 
white frame house with an estate on either side. The smaller home was in 
good condition with a narrow walk ribboning down the front lawn and 
well-kept elephant ear plants in pots on the small front porch. The plants 
were cared for by Miss Corrine, the elderly lady who owned the house and 
lived upstairs. Chris had one half of the lower floor - a small studio 
apartment with kitchen and bath. In the other downstairs half, lived a 
graduate student couple with a baby - the husband was a student at Tulane 
like Chris was. 

When Christina arrived home that night, it was eight-thirty and the sun was 
just setting, casting pink shadows across the walk. She could hear loud rock 
music coming from the young couple's apartment, so she knew they were having 
a party and she could smell Miss Corrine's dinner - spicy chicken gumbo - 
wafting down the stairs. 

Unlocking the door, she burst into her apartment that was cluttered with 
family antiques and an overlay of books and records young Christina had 
brought with her. It had been her southern grandmother's apartment before 
her ... but now that her French Creole "grandmere" was in a home, it gave 
Chris' mother great pleasure for Chris to live there. Christina wasn't 
southern, but her mother was. Three years ago, Chris had given up her plans 
to study in New York, primarily because the apartment was available - and to 
please her parents. 

The pretty young blonde dumped her books and beach bag on a valuable 
horsehair sofa and went out into the hallway to check the mail. 

"Oh, shoot," she mumbled audibly; there was nothing and a wave of 
disappointment surged through her. 

Her parents hardly ever wrote, but she had been hoping for a letter from her 
sister Susan who was now living on a commune in New Mexico. Chris was the 
more conservative daughter, although the pretty blonde thought she might 
have ended up a hippie, too, if Susan hadn't already done it before her. 

Hurrying into her kitchen, the young acting student washed down a dinner of 
corn flakes with a glass of wine, then popped in and out of her tiny shower 
and dried herself. 

All the while, she nervously studied her reflection in the mirror. Since the 
age of thirteen she'd been aware of her beautifully formed body, almost 
embarrassed by it, but on a night like this, total assurance was important. 
Christina didn't plan to participate in any orgy, but there was no denying - 
if she meant to be honest with herself - that she was secretly hoping Ken 
Scarboro might make love to her. 

Christina was no virgin. Two years ago, when she was a freshman, she had 
lost her innocence in very brief affairs with two boys. Neither experience 
had been very exciting. Everything had happened in a great rush and suddenly 
been over just when she was getting warmed up! Worse yet, both boys had come 
to her the next day and told her they were sorry, leaving her with a guilty, 
distasteful feeling. So since then, expecting more of the same, Christina 
hadn't been interested ... but now, with Ken Scarboro, she reasoned, it just 
had to be different. 

Even when the steam cleared, the mirror in the bathroom was too small and 
Chris moved impatiently out into her sitting room-bedroom to get a better 
look at her naked young body in the mirrored doors on the armoire. By now, 
it was nine o'clock. Chris had been too busy to draw the curtains and the 
small cluttered studio apartment was suffused with a rosy light. 

Trying to be objective, she studied her reflection in the mirror ... she 
stood slightly shorter than average, but her slender build added height so 
no one ever really noticed it. Her naturally platinum hair - the result of 
Scandinavian heritage on her father's side - was parted on one side and 
stood out in a slight fluff around her shoulders. Her features were 
delicately formed, her eyes a startling blue in contrast to her tanned skin 
and light hair. 

Her eyes drifted over the rest of her body, taking in with one slow sweep 
her lushly rounded breasts, her small hour-glass waist and full womanly 
hips. She had an old-fashioned kind of body, all curves. With obvious 
pleasure, her hands went up to fondle and massage her youthfully swelling 
breasts. As she rolled the tiny, bud-like nipples between her fingers, she 
watched in fascination as their darker pink aureoles crinkled up around 
them. She shuddered with delight and her eyes flicked down to her blonde, 
sparsely-fringed pussy. It must have been flirting with the important older 
man, she thought, which made her remember what a voluptuous young body she 
had. She stopped herself, just as she was about to touch her tingling pussy 
lips and pulled her favorite blue miniskirt and stacked heels from the 
armoire. 

Dressing in the dimming light, Chris felt more confident now. Still, Ken 
Scarboro was no inexperienced college boy. One glance at her curvaceously 
naked body had assured her she had all the right equipment. The question 
remained: Would she know what to do with it? 

A half-hour later, the pretty drama student was stepping off the porch of 
the white frame house where she had her apartment and walking the two blocks 
down to St. Charles Avenue and the trolley. The old wooden trolley came 
almost right away and Chris entered from the back, bought her fare from the 
ticket-taker in the rear and sat down on a wooden slat bench behind a couple 
who were speaking Spanish. 

It was ten o'clock now ... totally dark and Chris glanced briefly out at the 
large southern homes twinkling lights on either side. An incident of no 
seeming importance flashed into her mind with new significance. When Chris 
had stepped out into the hallway for her mail, the young brunette housewife 
had opened the door on the other side. 

"Oh, hi! I heard footsteps and was afraid it was 'four eyes'," she had 
nodded up at Miss Corrine's. 

"No, just me checking the mail," Chris had said. "I haven't heard from my 
parents for six weeks now." 

"Weird parents ... you smell anything funny?" 

"No." 

"Well, that's good," the saucy dark-haired girl winked meaningfully and with 
a slight wave of her hand at Chris, stepped back into her apartment as 
rapidly as she had first popped out of it. 

Chris remembered feeling befuddled ... because the young couple had more or 
less forced her into a conspiracy against Miss Conine, who was nosy, she had 
to admit. But the point was that while the young couple had pot parties, 
Chris, in three whole years, had had absolutely nothing to hide. There's 
nothing worse than having an agreement to "live and let live", she thought 
now, when I have about as exciting a life as ... well, a grown up Girl 
Scout! But now, with the prospect of being seduced by famous songwriter Ken 
Scarboro, she felt wicked, guilty ... but somehow good about it! 

Chris ran a comb through her hair one last time and got off the streetcar in 
the Garden District, an exclusive residential neighborhood between St. 
Charles Avenue and the river. Walking down the quiet, tree-lined streets, 
the address struck Chris as somewhat odd - she would have expected a party 
like this to be held down in the Quarter where the artists and more 
flamboyant types lived. Still, it was convenient for Chris - she had ridden 
the trolley all the way and reaching the big house glittering like a jewel 
box, the staid address was reassuring. 

Chris' heart did a flip-flop when Jason Crawford, a well-known TV cowboy 
star, opened the door, looming over her at, at least, six foot seven. Her 
throat went dry when he immediately wrapped a big arm around her shoulder. 
He was dressed in jeans, a shirt and big boots - just as though he were on 
the screen, except for the drink in his hand. "Hi, my name's Jason," he said 
- as if she didn't already know! - "And you're name is ... is Linda," he 
decided. 

"No, Chris. Christina Cooper," Chris stumbled. 

"Well, come on in anyway, honey," he was moving her now down the hallway 
with the sheer force of his massive arm. "This isn't my party," he bent down 
to breathe in her ear. "But I'll tell you, honey, it's a good one." 

"Wh-whose party is it?" Chris tried to inch away. 

"The Carson's, oil people," he didn't seem to be bothered by the fact of her 
crashing the party. He pulled her tight against his chest, "Say, that's some 
skirt you're almost wearing." 

Finally, they reached the end of the foyer and stood at the entrance to the 
huge living room. Christina blinked - not sure just what to think for the 
moment. What she saw was simultaneously both better and worse than she had 
been expecting. The ornately old-fashioned room was impressive - big enough 
for a six-piece Dixieland band at one end. Couples were dancing on the 
floor, frustrated looking men tried to elbow their way through them to the 
bar at the room's other end - just as at any other big party Chris might 
have gone to. 

On the other hand, there was a wildness about the scene that Chris had never 
encountered before or even imagined. Men and women were lewdly fondling each 
other on the davenports, in large corner chairs that hugged the shadows of 
the candle-lit room. She looked closer and saw that most who were dancing 
clung to each other as if they had been born that way. Anxiously entwined 
twosomes brushed past her and Crawford in the wide entry way, making their 
way through the foyer and up the big staircase ... obviously to the 
bedrooms. 

Crawford neatly angled them through the crowd to the bar. "What'll you have, 
pretty Chris?" the actor waved for the barman, then resettled his arm tight 
around Chris' back, his fingertips coming to rest just at the beginning 
swell of her upthrust young breasts. 

"A gin and tonic," the curvaceous blonde said decisively. "Actually, though, 
I'm supposed to meet someone. Maybe you know him, his name is Ken ... " 

Suddenly, Chris jumped as two strong masculine hands settled on her waist. 
"Okay, Crawford," she looked back to see Ken Scarboro standing right behind 
her. "She's taken for the evening." As he turned back to Chris, his face was 
flushed, flushed from drinking and a reassuring pleasure at seeing her. "You 
actually came! I didn't think you would." 

Chris was speechless with relief. 

"How'd you get here?" he said, casually removing Crawford's arm. He moved up 
on her other side and wound his own arm around her back where the actor's 
had been. 

"I took the trolley." 

"The trolley," he burst into laughter, then seeing her blush, "Sorry, baby, 
I'm in one of those moods where everything strikes my funny bone." 

"In other words, he's just stoned," the cowboy star smiled at them 
good-naturedly. 

At that moment, the barman arrived. While Scarboro ordered a drink, Chris 
used a moment to take a deep gulp on her gin and tonic. Out of the corner of 
her eye, she saw a man moving around the room. He stopped, whispering 
something to occasional couples and they got up - half the party seemed to 
be leaving. 

"What do you think of the party?" the songwriter said. 

"It seems ... just like a party." 

"Good," Scarboro chuckled and gave her a little hug. "I'm glad you like it. 
We're going to have a good time!" 

Chris watched in amazement as the songwriter downed his drink in one gulp, 
then ordered a second round. He caught her expression and laughed, "C'mon, 
drink up," he put the second gin and tonic in her hand. "They're putting on 
a little show in the basement." 

"What kind of a show?" Chris drew heavily on her drink. 

"A SEX show," he said, giving her a wide-eyed expression. 

Christina stiffened and laughed. "No, I really couldn't." 

"What's the difference?" he said. "Same thing you could see down in the 
Quarter. Only difference is you don't have to pay for it." 

Scarboro broke out into a hearty laugh. 

Chris didn't know what to say. She looked from Scarboro, then to Crawford on 
her other side. Both men were finishing off their drinks and she did 
likewise, out of sheer nervousness. While they were joking about something 
... Chris was too distracted to really listen ... the young blonde had time 
to think. After all, what was so terrible about everyone going down there 
together? It would be an experience ... something she'd certainly never 
again have the occasion to see. And hadn't Ken already assured her on the 
beach she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to? 

"All right," she smiled as, simultaneously, everyone placed their empty 
glasses on the bar top. 

"Good girl," Crawford patted her on the shoulder, as though she'd just 
passed some test. Probably proving to him - the young blonde thought - that 
she wasn't the simple little prude he was beginning to take her for. 

But maybe ... maybe she was a prude! Outwardly, Christina knew she looked 
cool and composed, but her insides were literally trembling. She felt a 
thrill as they made their way through the house towards a downstairs 
playroom where she knew lewd, illicit things would be going on. She didn't 
know how bad it would really be and tried not to think of it as they went 
down the dark stairs, Ken taking her hand and guiding her. 

Her first reaction was one of shock - a stunned reaction so overwhelming it 
didn't even occur to her to turn away and leave. The room was dark except 
for a spotlight coming out of the ceiling where she could see a middle-aged 
man and young woman standing by a mattress. They were both completely naked 
and the man's long white penis was excitedly erect. 

She had to take her eyes from them as they threaded their way through the 
people gathered to watch, toward a couch that was along one wall. 

"I didn't realize they'd be doing something like this," Christina whispered 
to Scarboro as he led her along, but the songwriter didn't hear. 

Suddenly, he stopped and Chris froze as she looked down at a nakedly 
entwined couple on top of some pillows at her feet. They were strung 
uninhibitedly across the narrow aisle, leaving Christina's group at a 
temporary loss as to how to get around them. The woman, a stunning redhead, 
was lying on her back with her knees salaciously uplifted and her long 
slender legs spread far apart. 

The man was sitting on the redhead's ripely swelling breasts, his buttocks 
crushed their generously rounded softness tight back against her chest, 
while his knees were placed obscenely on either side of her head. Christina 
watched her mouth open in disbelief, as the woman reached up with her hands 
and greedily seized his fully erect cock. A hungry expression flickered 
through her eyes before she closed them. Then she began licking the man's 
lust-stiffened penis with her tongue, craning her neck to slowly take the 
long hard cock deeper into her ovalled mouth. 

Behind her, she heard Crawford say, "God Almighty, Scarboro, look at that!" 

They stood transfixed as they watched the man gradually begin to pump his 
hips back and forth. His long thick cock began to slide like a hard wet 
piston in and out of the woman's eagerly clasping lips. The aroused redhead 
reached up with her hands and grasped impatiently tight at his waist to pull 
his loins even closer against her cock-stuffed face. She wanted all she 
could get of his mouth-filling hardness and it looked like his cock was 
going all the way down to her throat as the man began fucking harder and 
harder into her voraciously sucking mouth. 

Gently, Scarboro pulled Christina along. "Come on," he whispered. "We've got 
to ease around them. We're blocking the view for the others." 

Finally, they reached the couch where an attractive older couple was 
sprawled. Instinctively, Chris sensed they were married - to each other. 
Their wide-eyed expression made it more than obvious they were no more used 
to watching sex shows than Chris was. The couch was a long one, big enough 
for them all to sit on. No sooner was Chris' group seated beside the couple 
than the uncontrollably excited wife whirled on her husband. Kissing him 
full on the mouth, she began grinding her curvaceous form licentiously into 
his body. 

Chris sat between the actor and the songwriter, her breath coming light and 
fast. To see such overt lewdness and animal sexuality was shocking yet 
strangely exciting. My God, she thought of the couple, how can people do 
such things in public? The older married couple screwed their mouths like 
mad, the husband running his hands all over his wife's grinding body, 
pulling her dress far up along her enticingly separated thighs. 

It was exciting being in the room, Chris admitted to herself, hypnotically 
watching the couple for a moment before she pulled her eyes away. A heated 
lewdness, an obscene atmosphere hung heavy as musk in the packed room. There 
was a tense quietness, but for the steady sound of the Dixieland band 
upstairs reverberating like a deep pulse through the floorboards. Christina 
couldn't help laughing at the song they were playing ... 

"Went to the river, couldn't get across, Jumped on an elephant, rode him for 
a hoss, Cause he shakes that thing, cause he ... " 

It seemed so out of context with the present situation! Or did it? Then 
Scarboro was pointing and whispered to her, "That girl out there on the 
mattress has been in some bike movies." 

"Bike movies?" Chris frowned. 

"Motorcycles," he laughed at her naivete. 

"Oh," Christina was embarrassed and looked back at the middle-aged man and 
the young woman standing nakedly in the bright "stage" spotlight. The blonde 
girl was lovely and her blue eyes had a glazed look. She was perspiring and 
her long straight hair was disheveled, giving her an even more licentious 
appearance. There were red marks on her translucent white skin, particularly 
around the insides of her youthfully firm thighs near her blonde-fringed 
pussy. She stood with her arms trembling at her sides, her eyes now closed 
as the man roughly massaged her fully ripened young breasts. Then he spun 
her around and said to her in a commanding, almost brutal voice, "Down on 
your knees." 

Without a word, the young girl dropped obediently to her knees on the 
mattress, facing away from the older man and the audience. Then he put both 
hands on her fearfully quivering shoulders, pushing her abruptly until she 
fell forward. Her pretty face, neck and shoulders were forced down into the 
mattress while her rounded young buttocks waved high up in the air, 
invitingly exposed for everyone to see. "Spread your legs open," the man 
ordered now. 

Christina suddenly found herself leaning forward on the couch, her breath 
coming fast. She couldn't believe she was actually watching the girl's 
nakedly exposed buttocks upraised so everyone could see. Then a smoldering 
fear surged through her at the young woman's obscenely helpless position. As 
the blonde girl spread her legs, adjusting into a more comfortable kneeling 
position, her pink-slitted vagina revealed itself more openly, wetly 
glistening in the spotlight, Chris found it increasingly difficult to sit 
still as a tantalizing sexual hunger all her own began churning deep up 
inside her tightening belly. She could feel her love-starved young pussy 
beginning to involuntarily moisten as she watched the girl spread her 
shaking knees as wide as possible. God! She couldn't believe it! Chris had 
never imagined a woman on her knees in that kind of position before ... as 
though she were a subdued animal being readied for sacrifice. 

"Grind it, move your ass around for me!" the man demanded and the blonde 
actress obeyed instantly, rotating and squirming her lewdly uplifted 
buttocks with all her might. Instead of being embarrassed and humiliated by 
her depraved position, Chris saw now that the performer was enjoying it. She 
had her face turned toward the couch where Christina sat and the young 
college coed noticed the blissfully dazed smile on the actress's face and 
the expectant way her eyes were now closed. 

Christina felt the drink she'd consumed so quickly earlier going straight to 
her head. The room whirled in front of her as the spotlight over the naked 
couple on the center mattress spun kaleidoscopically. The room was full of 
couples writhing in the dark and everyone seemed to be breathing harder. 
Chris felt herself getting light-headed and blinked for a moment, turning to 
see the married couple on the other end of the couch. The man now had his 
wife's dress drawn up around her waist and Chris could see the narrow crotch 
band of her white nylon panties as the man caressed her eagerly parting 
thighs. She had his fly unzipped and her hand was inserted inside his pants 
and slowly moving around over his passionately erect cock. With unconcealed 
delight, both of them were gazing at the naked girl in the spotlight, as 
they fondled one another's heatedly aroused loins. 

Christina looked back at the girl on the center mattress who was furiously 
undulating and grinding her buttocks up in the air, the gentle curves of her 
body glistened with sweat, her teeth were tightly clenched and her face 
contorted and transformed by passion-convulsed desire. It was raw naked lust 
- there was no other name for it! 

"Uuuuuuuuhhhh!" With a loud grunt, the heavy-set man behind her dropped to 
his knees and seized her encouragingly waving buttocks with eager, 
outstretched hands. He steadied them, gazed at her stilled young ass-cheeks 
for a long moment, then brought his stiffened penis into position up against 
her pink, splayed-open young cunt. The girl seemed to be holding her breath 
as the man's lust-knotted cock-head pressed up between her blonde-fringed 
pussy lips. Then, suddenly, he found his mark! He plunged his long 
blood-thickened cock deep up into her hotly clutching vagina, bringing wild 
ecstatic mewls from the girl's lips. 

"Aarghhhh," the girl cried out. 

Chris could see the hard glistening penis pull nearly out of the blonde's 
wet curl-rimmed vaginal passage, then disappear again out of sight up into 
the moist tight flesh as the man shoved his aching cock deep into her small 
pussy hole again and again. "Ooooh, ohhhh!!" she gasped and moaned, her 
voice trailing off into unintelligibility. 

For a moment, Christina was shocked, fearing the young starlet was hurt ... 
but then she realized the girl was loving it! Her naked spot-lighted body 
began to buck back up to meet his deep plunging cock. The man's eyes seemed 
to bulge out of his head as he fucked unmercifully into her sucking young 
cunt from behind, not holding back, slamming into her with all his massive 
weight and strength. Her entire girlish body vibrated like jello under his 
pummeling strokes, her breasts dangling and dancing obscenely and finally 
flattening out as they were forced down into the mattress. 

That's what it must be like to be completely ravished, Christina thought. It 
was an act of total self-subjugation, where the woman became nothing more 
than a slave to the depraved and unrestrained desires of the man who plunged 
with greater force and strength into her defenseless cunt. There were no 
holds barred; the girl was doing exactly as he wished and had no purpose but 
to satisfy the man who thrust so brutally deep up inside her helpless 
vagina. and what's more, she seemed to be enjoying it! 

"Oh God," Christina found herself beginning a little moaning in her throat 
along with the blonde. A wild thought bolted through her mind and she 
quickly dismissed it. For a split second, she wished she was that girl ... 
getting fucked so savagely - so thrillingly - out there on the mattress 
where all could see her shameless submission. She sat forward on the couch 
and crossed her legs, squeezing her warm, moistening thighs tightly 
together. The wet heat of her involuntarily responding vagina was becoming 
almost unbearable. God, this was too much! 

"Uuuuuuhhhh," the man's loud grunt pierced through the room. 

With a roar, the man stiffened and began cumming like a ravaging lion into 
the young blonde's hungrily milking cunt. His reddened face contorted with 
rage and desire. Christina could see his rock-hard buttocks flex and 
untighten as he arched his hips a final time - then his body torturously 
convulsed as he came again and again, shooting his hot male sperm deep up 
into her squirming still-unsatisfied vagina. 

"No! No! Not yet! Don't cum yet!" the movie actress moaned in despair and 
was calling. 

She thrust her quivering ass-cheeks up higher and higher, trying to keep the 
man's still-squirting penis inside her ravaged but still passionately 
begging vagina. But it was futile. He merely collapsed on her back, then 
rolled off to fall on the mattress, gasping out the euphoria of his own 
orgasm. The blonde lay prone on the mattress grinding her sperm-drenched 
little pussy lips hard down against the soft material, agonizingly 
frustrated moans coming from deep in her throat ... 

The man staggered to his feet and moved out of the small spotlight and into 
the darkness, leaving the insanely aroused girl by herself. "Next in line!" 
someone called and there were a few laughs. Chris licked her lips; her mouth 
was dry and her young body weirdly on fire. 

"That turn you on?" Scarboro's elbow nudged her jokingly in the side. He was 
teasing her, grinning at her. 

Christina's face was flushed and she couldn't look directly at the 
blond-haired song writer. She nodded and tried to explain, surprised by the 
hoarse quality in her voice, "I've never seen anything like that before." 

"Well, hang on, there'll be more," he laughed, lighting a cigarette. He 
looked at Chris with an amused glow in his eyes and seemed to be enjoying 
her reaction as much as the lewd sex show. 

Next to her, the TV cowboy star, Crawford, put his hand on her lower thigh 
and Christina jumped. His hand was warm and moist. "Christ!" he breathed 
across her to Scarboro. "At another party, I've seen that girl have four men 
and two women and still want more. She's unbelievable. I guess she really 
likes to fuck." 

Chris didn't try to take his hand away. It didn't seem to matter and it felt 
so good. She looked down the couch past Crawford at the older couple. The 
wife was now leaning back on the couch, her pantiless buttocks on the edge 
of the seat with her dress brazenly pulled up to her waist, revealing every 
intimate detail of her naked young body from the waist down. Her excited 
husband had pulled her panties down her revolving hips to the point .where 
her soft dark-haired pussy mound was completely exposed, the wetly shining 
layers of blushing pink flesh contrasting with the reddish hue of his 
lust-aroused cock-head. 

Scarboro laughed uproariously. The husband grinned lewdly and then leaned to 
kiss his wife full on the mouth. 

Without asking permission, Crawford casually reached over and hooked two 
fingers in the woman's sheer white panties, pulling them down over her 
knees. "Ooooooh yes!" the woman moaned in wild agreement and kicked the 
panties from her ankles onto the floor. She lay half-naked on the couch, her 
tapering legs spread wide and her cuntal lips parting to reveal more of the 
deeply throbbing vaginal slit between, sparsely surrounded by soft black 
pussy hair. Crawford turned to Chris and grinned. "It's all right, they're 
married," he said. Christina laughed in astonishment. Apparently, everything 
was all right. 

People were turning to watch their couch now. Men were looking lustfully at 
Christina, but she felt safe between the huge actor and the handsome 
songwriter. Then Crawford said, "Looks like the show needs another man. I'm 
going to volunteer my services." 

Christina's attention was attracted back to the couple. Now the husband was 
really mauling his wife, unbuttoning her dress and taking off her 
transparent white brassiere to expose her full, firmly set breasts that 
quivered lustily in his cupping hands. He pinched her desire-stiffened pink 
nipples between his thumb and forefingers, and at the other end of the 
couch, Chris stirred responsively, the warmth in her tingly-hot pussy 
becoming much stronger. She turned to Scarboro, "Shouldn't we ... ? I think 
I ought to go." 

"Hang on just a while," he grinned. "We've got to watch Crawford, or he'll 
be offended." 

"Well, all right," Chris nodded uneasily. She was totally at a loss for 
words to deal with this impossible situation. Her eyes widened as the 
massively built cowboy star appeared out there under the spotlight. He had 
stripped naked and his eagerly stiffening penis was much longer and thicker 
than the last man's. His eyes flicked over the kneeling girl with a lusty 
and expectant look. She sensed his lewd presence and got to her feet and 
looked with equal longing at his enormously lengthened penis swaying right 
in front of her. She was hot now, and in a terrible deep passion which 
called for immediate satisfaction. Chris forgot that she wanted to leave, 
almost forgot she was sitting on a couch with Ken Scarboro and a writhing 
couple who were now half-naked and who were heatedly fondling each other's 
genitals. 

All she could look at was the big cowboy star and the small young blonde 
looking hungrily at each other under the spotlight. Chris's mouth was open 
and dry, her breath coming hoarse and deep. She squirmed and twisted 
uncomfortably in her seat, the soaked crotchband of her bikini nylon panties 
tightening against her rapidly wetting vagina and only serving to titillate 
and excite her all the more. 

Crawford moved under the spotlight, put his hands on the girl's shoulders 
and said, "Go down on your knees and suck my cock!" 

"God!" a little moan escaped Chris's lips as she saw the girl's reaction. 
Her face was twisted by a lust-crazed look, and as she sank slave-like to 
her knees, she slowly and seductively wet her lips with her tongue. 
Kneeling, she reached eagerly for the desire-stiffened rod of male flesh. 
She played lewdly with his hardened penis for a long maddening moment, 
drawing the loose foreskin back and forth over the bluntly swollen tip-end. 
Then, as Crawford stood above her, spreading his powerful legs and bracing 
himself, his fingers tangled in the girl's disheveled blonde hair, her mouth 
finally closed tightly over his mushroom-like cock-head. Chris had never 
seen anything so obscene in her life. The cowboy star's hips slowly began to 
move; his penis was enormously lengthened and looked like a huge wet bone as 
it began to slide in and out of the girl's receiving mouth, fusing flesh 
with flesh as it thrust deep into her desirously puffing cheeks. 

Christina watched as if hypnotized, her eyes half-closed and glazed. The 
young blonde girl's mouth was open as wide as it could go, her eyes 
half-closed and glazed. The young blonde girl's mouth was open as wide as it 
could go, her lipstick-rimmed lips stretched tight around the vein-lined 
cock-shaft like two firm rubber bands. 

She'll choke! Christina thought as Crawford thrust his ramrod penis deeper 
up into her wetly clasping mouth. He moved deep and slow, pulling the entire 
throbbing length out to the hugely swollen head, a malicious look on his 
face. Just as slowly and cruelly as before, he sunk his excitedly heated 
member toward her throat, farther and deeper with each plunge. The girl was 
no longer merely sucking him; he was fucking into her mouth, using it as he 
would a young hairless cunt. 

The audience was silent at this obscene spectacle which was made all the 
more arousing by the rapt expression on the blonde girl's face. 

"Deeper!" a woman's voice suddenly cried. 

"Harder!" said another man. 

"Suck him!" people were calling. 

"Suck," Christina heard herself say in a little voice. Crawford responded, 
driving his saliva-wettened cock into the young blonde's unresisting mouth 
all the way down to her throat. The actress let her hands slip behind him 
and seized his rotating ass-cheeks to pull him closer and deeper into her 
warm moist mouth. 

"That's it, yes, suck him, suck him, suck him!" Chris was amazed that she 
was chanting the words over and over, saying filthy things in a crazy 
sing-song manner. 

Nothing mattered, no one was listening. All eyes were riveted on the girl 
who was drawing as hard as she could now on the big actor's penis fucking 
harder and faster into her thirstily ovalling mouth. The heat and smoke were 
becoming unbearable. Chris found herself sweating, leaning forward, wishing 
it were she herself avidly sucking on that man's long hard cock in front of 
everyone. She watched the lewdly entwined pair writhe hard together with 
Crawford suddenly springing, animal-like, almost crouching down over the 
nakedly kneeling girl. He forced her head back and up and drove his 
uncontrollably jerking penis down into her suctioning mouth with all his 
power, the muscles in his flexing legs and arms bulging and corded. 

"Ooooooh," Chris gasped aloud when she saw his face, heard him grunt - all 
unmistakable signs that the actor was cumming. As he shot his hot liquid 
sperm far back into her receiving throat, the young blonde's cheeks 
ballooned outward until it seemed they would burst. The veins stood out on 
her neck and shiny white semen was overflowing the corners of her mouth, but 
she kept gluttonously swallowing his jetting cum, sucking crazily for more. 
Finally, Crawford's legs trembled in satiation and he sunk to the floor with 
the girl still possessively nibbling on his rapidly deflating cock-shaft. He 
lay on his back, sighing and gasping, with the blonde movie starlet licking 
the last warm white sperm droplets off the tip of his depleted penis. 

Chris collapsed back on the couch. Up between her thighs, her entire young 
vaginal area felt like it was on fire. She closed her eyes ... she heard of 
sex shows like this and tried to imagine them. But never had she dreamed of 
anything so brazen, so obscene and so thrilling! 

She sat forward again, unconsciously grinding her buttocks down into the 
couch. Next to her, she could see the older couple was still at it. The 
husband was sucking on the woman's stiffened nipple buds while his hand 
kneaded and fondled her excitedly lubricated vagina. The wife was gazing 
across her husband over at Ken Scarboro with lust in her eyes. She was 
obviously enjoying being an exhibitionist and Chris sensed it wouldn't be 
long before that woman, too, was out there under the spotlight. 

Scarboro was obviously enjoying it all, too, though with a certain 
unastonished attitude that fascinated Chris. She touched his arm and he 
turned and smiled at her. "Do you ... do you come to this kind of thing 
often?" 

He chuckled. "Sure. Why not?" 

"Have you ... " Chris waved a hand, "you know." 

He seemed to find that amusing. "Have I ever participated? Is that what you 
want to know?" 

Chris nodded. 

"Yeah, I have a couple of times. But I'm not much of a performer. I prefer 
parties where everyone participates." 

"Oh," was all Chris could manage to say. 

Scarboro laughed at her reaction and then she laughed too. Her laugh froze 
on her face as Scarboro put his hand on her knee and said, "Sometimes I like 
it ... just private." 

"Oh," Chris gulped again. 

He smiled. "C'mon, let's get out of this place. It's too crowded. And I got 
a nice big bed at my hotel room." 

"Oh yes, I mean, okay," Christina wasn't going to back out now, though she 
had to force herself to say it. 

Getting up, Scarboro seized her wrist and Chris was amazed at his strength. 
Holding her so tightly by the wrist she thought the circulation would stop, 
he led her from the room and up the stairs. Behind them, on the couch, the 
married couple were locked nakedly together, fucking with all their strength 
while the others gathered around to watch. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Scarboro drove Christina in a big blue Plymouth from the Garden District 
mansion to the Royal Hotel in the French Quarter. It was Saturday night and 
the narrow streets of the quarter were filled with tourists wandering from 
one bar to another. 

Across from the Royal Hotel a purplish neon sign urged passers-by to see THE 
MOST SPECTACULAR STRIP SHOW THIS SIDE OF VEGAS! As Chris moved along, her 
arm linked tightly into Scarboro's, she couldn't help feeling nervous ... 
but excited too. The carnival atmosphere of the Quarter seemed like a 
hangover from Mardi Gras; but without the gaily decorated floats and masked 
revelers, there was something tawdry in the scene. 

Despite her embarrassment, Chris was secretly thrilled as they walked 
through the hotel lobby with every eye on them. Scarboro was forceful, 
dynamic, handsome and radiated success and confidence. As they rode up in an 
old elevator hand in hand, the songwriter swinging a bottle, she wondered 
what he would be like as a lover. What would he enjoy doing? Would she like 
him ... and especially, could she interest him? By the time they'd reached 
his floor and were walking down the corridor, all kinds of negative thoughts 
had crept into her mind. 

Then Ken opened the door on an opulent bedroom done in Victorian style with 
a huge canopied bed. He gazed around the room with a pleased look. Christina 
heard the door click resolutely behind them, then Scarboro's arm was around 
her shoulder as he led her to the bed. 

"Come over here, baby," he said with a slight drunken slur. "I got something 
I want to show you." 

Feeling as if the ground were giving out under her feet, Christina let 
herself be led to the huge bed. 

"Look up," the blond songwriter said. 

"What?" 

"Lookup." 

Christina lifted her eyes to see a huge mirror placed above the bed in the 
canopy. 

"That's so who's ever in bed can see whatever they're doing!" he laughed and 
rubbed his hands together. 

"Oh ... that's terrific," Chris heard herself say in a small voice just as 
the handsome songwriter spun away from her. 

Scarboro seemed to be in perpetual motion. Back in the car, he'd kept up a 
steady stream of boyish jokes and comments, while Christina fidgeted 
nervously in the corner. Now he was making them drinks with a great aplomb; 
he poured straight gin over ice, added some bitters. Jiggling the glasses 
loudly in each hand, he handed one to her. "Drink up ... you ever hear that 
joke 'It'll put hair on your chest'?" 

"No, I mean, I think I've read it," Chris stumbled. "'But I never heard 
anyone say it." 

He chuckled in a way that left Christina mystified as to whether he thought 
it was a funny joke or not. 

Then he was moving past her to the closet. Giving her a mysterious look, he 
reached into the closet and pulled out a large suitcase. Chris remained 
where she stood by the floor-length balcony windows. The balcony itself had 
been closed off because of the air-conditioning, but down below she could 
see Royal Street, narrow and dark and empty now of tourists. Somehow, it 
seemed to fit with the shabby, frightened way she felt. 

"Come on, come on," Scarboro was waving her to the bed where he had opened 
the suitcase. 

Christina moved slowly across the room. The suitcase was an ordinary one - 
except it was filled with magazines and records. 

"See this?" Scarboro took out a record album. 

Chris looked confusedly at the cover. It was a popular album by a famous 
male singer; everyone knew about it. 

"Now look at this," he flipped the album over to the back side where the 
usual blurb on the songs and performer was printed. "Shane Artists, Kelly 
Studios," he was mumbling as he moved his finger along the bottom of the 
credits. "Songs by Tom Hill and KEN SCARBORO!" 

Christina laughed in astonishment at the songwriter's sheer ego. Then he was 
picking up a magazine. Apparently, he knew the page number by heart because 
he turned immediately to the page he wanted. 

"There's more, too," he smiled at her and read, 'Annual Song writing Award 
to Tom Hill and Ken Scarboro'! Now how does that grab you?" he closed up the 
magazine and placed it with surprising carefulness back into the suitcase. 

Chris found herself amused, in spite of her nervousness. "You seem to take 
great pleasure in your success," she teased. 

"Sure, why not?" he said. "It's all I got in life, I might as well enjoy it! 
... You know this girl?" he pulled out another album with a famous female 
singer on the cover. 

Christina recognized the dark-haired woman as Micki Grant. The full-color 
picture played up her scarlet dress and voluptuous figure to the point that 
she seemed to leap right off of the cover. She was tall and sensuous, 
holding a microphone like it was a live cock in her hand, letting the tip of 
her tongue touch it. 

"Sure," Christina frowned. "It's Micki Grant." 

"She used to be my girl friend," he looked at her with a serious expression. 

Chris glanced up suspiciously. 

"No, really. We lived together for two years. Then she left me for this rich 
producer. Now she ... well, that circle she moves in now, those people are 
really successful, not that I care about it. Goddamn bitch," he stabbed the 
album with his finger and threw it back into the suitcase. 

While Scarboro closed up the suitcase and put it back in the closet, Chris 
wandered anxiously around the room. It wasn't that large, in fact it was 
rather small, but the massive Victorian furniture was impressive and Chris 
knew he must have been paying quite a bit to stay there. Circling around the 
foot of the bed, she ended up back at the window and in the same depression 
she had experienced earlier when the doorman and the bellboy had so lewdly, 
knowingly, eyed her. They must have thought I was a prostitute. I feel like 
one, she was thinking, feeling her skin turn scarlet with the shame, when 
Scarboro's voice cut into her thoughts ... 

"No, I'm not that successful," he said coming around the bed and sitting 
down on the edge of it. "I make a lot of money, sure. But how successful can 
a songwriter be? There are limits to the profession. Now Micki's crowd, they 
got money you wouldn't believe. I visited her today ... she's in a big suite 
at the Hilton ... I fucked her." 

I fucked her, Chris blinked at the blunt words and stared harder out the 
window. 

Scarboro was handsome, a celebrity, on top of it, but none of that seemed to 
matter now. Had she really come to a hotel room with this man she hardly 
knew ... and would certainly never see again? Most importantly, could she 
possibly get out of it? 

After being up here, Chris didn't have enough nerve to walk back down 
through the lobby at this time of night. Not after the obscene way everyone 
in the lobby had eyed her. No, she couldn't go back downstairs. On the other 
hand, it didn't seem likely that Ken would let her just sit here till 
morning. 

Suddenly, she heard the bed squeak and sensed him moving up from behind. His 
hands settled on her shoulders and she tensed. Now it's beginning, her mind 
raced and there's not a damn thing I can do about it! She trembled as she 
felt the older, blond-haired man's head lower, his rough cheek brush against 
her naked arm. His lips began to kiss her arm, nibbling at the sensitive 
skin until she could feel goose bumps rising responsively from her neck to 
her wrist. 

"Who does the lyrics and who does the song?" she asked, trying to distract 
him, "I mean, do you and Tom each have something special you do or do you 
work at everything together? I mean ... " she heard her voice trail off into 
simple-minded confusion. 

Behind her, Scarboro lifted his head, drew back. "Well ... Tom's a real 
genius. Most of the songs and the lyrics just come to him. But I'm the 
brains! I do the arranging and I'm the business manager." 

"Oh, that's interesting," she gulped as his hands began lifting her long 
blonde hair from the back of her neck. 

"Wh-where are you from?" she stammered. 

"From?" Scarboro shifted his weight and straightened up. "Well, that's a 
hard question. My dad owns a bar in St. Louis and my mother's a waitress in 
New York, so I sort of floated back and forth between them." He laughed. 

"My parents are very strange," Chris rambled desperately on, managing to cut 
the older man off just as his fingers settled on her tiny waist and began 
moving slowly up her sides to her breasts. "They're very much in love. 
That's unusual for parents, don't you think? They sent me and my sister to 
boarding school. Every time we come home for vacation, they take off to 
someplace ... like the ... Bahamas." 

Chris's voice trailed off, her mind went blank and she couldn't think of 
anything else to say as the songwriter lifted his hands to her shoulders and 
seemed to be struggling to turn her around. Her fingers caught at the small 
table in front of the window, but he held her by the shoulders, twisting 
himself toward her until she was directly facing him, her face buried in his 
chest. As he wrapped his arms around her back, she could feel ripples 
through his hard chest muscles. 

Looking downward, the young blonde's heart leapt to her throat. His cock was 
hard, she could see by the way the tight restricting material of his slacks 
bulged out toward her! It pressed hot and throbbing against her thigh and 
she pulled backward in an instinctive motion. 

"Lift your head. I haven't even kissed you yet." 

Before she could respond, he had taken her chin in his hand and was lowering 
his head toward her so that their lips met and his tongue wormed wetly 
inside her open mouth. It was beginning to feel like thousands of tiny 
sparklers igniting in her loins, when suddenly she pressed her hands against 
his powerful chest and wrenched away from him. 

She tried to inch out from between him and the table, but his huge form 
looming over her made it impossible ... she was cut off from any exit save 
the window; not even able to reach the door leading to the lobby. 

"What in the hell's the matter with you?" 

"Nothing." 

"Don't you want me to make love to you?" he asked bewilderedly. 

"No." 

"I can't figure it out," he said. 

"It's nothing ... " 

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you!" he interrupted, his voice choked with 
frustration. 

Suddenly he spun away from her. Trembling with relief, she watched as he 
padded across the carpet and moved to the bureau. I thought you wanted me to 
fuck you, reverberated through the blonde coed's mind ... then her thoughts 
were broken off when she saw Scarboro waving her to him. "Look at this," he 
lifted up a bottle of shaving lotion. "Twenty dollars a bottle. It comes 
from Paris." 

Despite herself, Chris grinned as he opened the bottle and began splashing 
shaving lotion on his neck. Her smile faded as his hands settled on her 
shoulders. "Chris ... do you want me to go down on you?" 

"No!" she started. She remembered the scene in the mansion's basement and 
recalled the lewd things ... those horrible perverted things men and women 
had been doing to each other. 

"Well, do you want to go down on me?" 

Chris's eyes began to fill with tears. "No." 

"Well, what the fuck do you want?" he snapped out at her. She could tell his 
patience was rapidly ebbing ... she really couldn't blame him if he was 
angry. 

"Do you think I could sit here till morning?" 

Scarboro looked baffled for a moment. "You want money? I'll pay you," he 
said. 

"Oh God ... this is unbelievable?" the frightened young blonde exclaimed. 
"This is like a nightmare." She bent her head. 

"Look Christina. When a man brings a girl up to his hotel room ... it's 
generally agreed that they're going to ... well, fuck," he was almost 
bellowing at her. 

"Please don't make so much noise," she lifted her head and pleaded. 

He picked up the glass he'd set down on the bureau and drank rapidly from 
it, standing with his back turned to her for a moment. Thoughts as elusive 
as the occasional sounds of traffic floating up from the street below spun 
through her mind. What if someone should discover she was here? Probably it 
was against the law. The bellboys might find it amusing, but, if the 
management found out ... What if she was discovered and arrested as a 
prostitute? 

Scarboro turned to her. A boyish grin swept across his face. "Listen, you've 
got to relax. Relax. Let it happen. Then it'll be better for the both of us. 
Now, go on and lie down on that bed." 

Feeling like an automaton, Chris looked away from the songwriter to the huge 
bed. It was canopied, with ornately carved posts and stood grandly on the 
expensive oriental carpet. There was nothing else to do; she had gotten 
herself into this mess and now she had to endure it. 

When morning came, she would walk out, just as though she had a room here 
and never let herself think of the humiliating incident again. 

Still not looking at Scarboro, she lay down on the bed, her eyes 
half-closed. 

"Now, already you feel better," she heard him say. 

"I can't say that I do." She felt like she had just been issued her death 
warrant as the stockily built man began to undress. 

He threw his shirt on the chair and pulled off his slacks and undershorts in 
one movement. Scarboro's long hard cock speared out angrily at her and his 
large, sperm-bloated balls hung low as he stood in front of her, a 
frightening specimen of masculine sexuality with his rippling stomach 
muscles layered like Roman armor. His hair-covered chest tapered in a "V" to 
his lean hips and the veins stood out on his biceps and oak-like arms. His 
muscles glistened with sweat. Chris's eyes flickered more widely open, a 
shudder of admiration combined with fear running through her. 

"Aren't you going to take your clothes off?" he said. 

"I-I ... Oh God ... " 

"Okay, you want me to do all the work," he said in the manner of a parent 
dealing with a tyrannical child. 

The bed sagged as he fell heavily down on the other half. Suddenly, she felt 
his hand at her sweater, drawing it up over her head, then unclasping her 
white lacy brassiere. As she leaned forward to let him, she felt a 
resurgence of that same hot tingling feeling she'd experienced earlier 
during the sex show. 

Ken's eyes widened as the young blonde's voluptuously rounded breasts leaped 
and jellied in front of his face. He half-gasped, half-growled as he stared 
hungrily at the firm-fleshed mounds. Consistent with her slightly blushing 
complexion, her small round nipples were the palest of pink, delicate and 
finely formed. 

"Damn ... you've got a great body ... great tits," he continued, staring at 
the twin white peaks of young flesh. 

She started to say something, but was cut off as he began to knead and suck 
the incredible ripeness of her breasts. Christina turned toward him, her 
half-naked body quivering beside him on the mattress as he continued to suck 
her responsively throbbing breasts, sliding the stiffening nipples up and 
down in a slow tantalizing rhythm. 

"I don't think I want to ... " 

"Here we go," he cut her off, suddenly rising to his knees and hovering over 
her on all fours. 

"Please," she whimpered, but Scarboro reached behind him to undo her 
sandaled heels, then - with equal abruptness - his fingers were sliding up 
her short blue miniskirt, fastening on the tight elastic waistband of her 
bikini panties. Before she could think of what to do, he was slowly peeling 
the white nylon panties down her heaving belly and off her legs. He threw 
them somewhere on the carpet and then drew down her skirt over her fearfully 
trembling thighs, letting it, too, flutter to the floor. 

A shiver of uncontrolled narcissistic delight banked through the blonde 
coed's loins as she felt him looking down at her naked young form. She knew 
he would find her body sexually enticing, but also was conscious of the fact 
that Ken had used her vanity earlier that afternoon on the beach to flatter 
her into this demeaning situation. Oh God, she'd been so foolish! 

"Lift up your legs." 

"You want me to lift up my legs?" she repeated absurdly. 

He smiled and she noticed his lips ... They were twisted lewdly. "Yes, open 
your legs ... wide. I want to see your lovely pussy." 

"Oh God!" 

"You're beautiful. Just looking at you on the beach this afternoon made my 
goddamn cock as hard as a rock!" 

"Don't say things like that," she shuddered. "No one's ever talked like that 
to me." 

"Well, now you heard it," he said with a gloating chuckle. 

Then he put one hand gently on her shoulder, pushing her back down onto the 
mattress and used the other to spread her legs open. 

"Damn, you sure got a pretty pussy," he whispered overhead. 

As though that would help her comprehend the situation, the young would-be 
actress squinted down at her naked white abdomen and the blonde cuntal "vee" 
nestled lewdly below the narrowness of her waist and her flaring hips. 

"Sweet, sweet pussy," Scarboro sighed and without warning, knelt farther 
down between her parting ankles. Something inside the young girl made her 
tremble with excitement. Maybe it was because of the liquor she'd drunk so 
fast or the sex show at the mansion, but, suddenly, she was incapable of 
protesting further. 

The songwriter's lascivious eyes feasted on the soft golden triangle of 
pubic hair up between her legs. Without touching her, he let his mind 
imagine how delectable her tight little pussy lips would feel and then, 
almost worshipfully, he put his hands on her knees and forced them wider 
apart. "Yes ... Chris, just relax, let yourself enjoy it," he stroked and 
kissed her inner thigh, feeling the young blonde shudder and then sigh 
deeply. 

"What are you doing? What's going on?" her voice seemed to open up a hole in 
the dimly lit room. 

There was no answer. 

Christina felt his hot moist lips on her other thigh. The quivering tongue 
played in light staccato against her naked skin as his hands worked the 
resilient thigh-flesh of her legs, raising her knees a bit by placing one of 
her feet on top of his thigh over the lewdly thickened bulge of his penis. 

"No ... STOP!" the nakedly shivering blonde jerked upward. Under her toes, 
she could feel his lustfully throbbing cock straining and pulsating against 
her foot. She tried to kick her foot away, but he grasped her ankle and 
pulled it back until it was firmly resting on his heated shaft. "Damn you! 
Leave it there," he said. 

The defenseless coed closed her eyes in fear, only to flick them open again 
when his finger grazed tentatively at her little pussy lips. God! Something 
seemed to flame up inside her, a hot flickering in her trembling young cunt, 
even stronger than what she'd experienced at the sex show. 

"No ... really! Can't we do something else?" she whimpered, realizing that 
everything she said came out completely wrong. 

The songwriter slithered forward, down toward her parting, glisteningly 
moist vaginal lips. With his thumbs he spread them even farther apart to 
reveal the erotically throbbing pussy flesh that just beckoned him to lick 
there. "Jeezus," he gasped. 

Ken's sudden indrawn breath increased the lewd sensual desires churning up 
through the quivering blonde's belly. She could feel Scarboro's hands 
massaging her naked thighs as he spread her legs wider to a point where she 
was without power to resist. 

"C'mon. I want to eat some of that sweet-smelling pussy ... just for a 
second, then I'll fuck you!" he slithered forward once again, his head 
abruptly bowed. 

An erotic jolt fizzled down her trembling inner thighs as his thumbs pressed 
into her swollen pussy-mound and gently parted the moist, hair-lined lips of 
her cunt. As he tried now to tongue-fuck her splayed open vaginal slit, she 
frantically twisted and squirmed her lower body, attempting to show him she 
wanted none of his perverted kisses down there. 

"Please ... no!" Chris stiffened the cord-like muscles of her legs and tried 
to pull her thighs together, but his strong grip on their trembling softness 
made it impossible. Some time earlier, Ken had disarmed her with his 
gentleness, but now she was frightened all over again. 

"Just let your legs relax. Ease into it nice and slow," he said, then seemed 
to forget how terrorized the young blonde really was. In his fevered 
excitement, he brutally wrenched her long tapering legs farther apart 
without difficulty and scuttled up closer between them. "Damn, what a pretty 
little cunt!" 

The bachelor was kneeling now between her widely outspread thighs, his 
fingers pressing into the trembling flesh of her outer cunt. She heard of a 
man licking a girl's vagina with his tongue and one of her two boyfriends 
had tried to get her to let him do it. But now, the degradation she'd 
thought she'd feel began to vanish from her mind. She was conscious only of 
the vulnerable sensation of his superior strength holding her thighs so wide 
that her sparse, hair-covered vaginal lips flowered open to reveal 
completely the deeply throbbing pink flesh between. 

He dropped his head downward and the thrilling warmness of his lips again 
pressed soft and gentle into her moist, hotly swelling cuntal flesh. "Ooooh! 
Nooooo! Please ... no!" She felt his tongue curling deep into the wetly 
sensitive slit, stopping to swirl several times around the slippery 
smoothness of her inner vaginal lips. Then, her protesting moan became a 
continuous wail of pleasure as his tongue drew up to the pulsating bud of 
her clitoris and lashed lightly over it again. 

Suddenly, the only things that mattered were the intense sexual fires which 
had been ignited in her warmly palpitating breasts and vagina and that were 
now building past the point of her control. 

Chris's shamelessly aroused young body shuddered in naked delight as Ken 
took her erotically stiffening clitoris into his teeth. He held it there 
with painstaking gentleness while his tongue licked in a searing lust-circle 
over the hotly quivering little head. 

Oh God, it's good! Just like he said it would be ... it's wonderful! 
Absolutely wonderful! 

The songwriter's hands held her now unresisting thighs far apart; his face 
began to turn in slow sensual circles as his tongue stroked fast and hard 
all over the would-be actress's wetly heated cuntal furrow. Her writhing 
young body spasmed upward and convulsed in response as Scarboro speared 
deeper into her wantonly clasping vagina, using his tongue like a penis to 
fuck orally into her moist warm pussy-flesh. 

"Mmmmmm," she mewled, looking down at him. "Yessss ... Oohhhh ... yes!" 

Chris began lasciviously grinding her desire-tautened vagina up to Ken's 
face, cooperating with him as much as she could. One of her hands moved down 
to tangle in his hair, stroking and caressing the blond head bobbing up and 
down between her obscenely straining legs. Suddenly, Ken's hands lifted and 
began roaming at will over her passionately quivering body, returning always 
to her full tingling breasts where they fondled and massaged and caressed 
their warm resiliency. She could feel her rigidly excited nipples digging 
into his grasping palms and a strange ecstasy mounted inside of her, a 
searingly wanton emotion she had never felt before ... and her eyes widened 
in disbelief. 

This must be an orgasm, the thing she had read and dreamed so much about! In 
her past two experiences with sex, the boys had always climaxed inside her 
too soon, cumming with uncontrolled grunts and groans, now she was 
thrillingly close to orgasm and her bones seemed to turn to putty, her flesh 
into some hot living liquid. 

Christina was almost there! One more time! One more thrust with that wet 
magical tongue snaking around between her helplessly widespread legs ... ! 

But then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped! 

"Now ... I want you to suck my cock," Scarboro lifted his head from between 
his splayed-out thighs. "Now it's my turn," he grinned. 

"Yes, yes, I want to," she agreed in her excitement. 

There was suddenly another movement around Christina's head and she could 
feel the mattress dipping in front of her face as Scarboro's heavy weight 
descended upon it. The enthralled young blonde momentarily closed her eyes, 
then she felt a spongy wet sensation pressing warmly against her mouth. He 
lifted her head with one hand as he guided the passion-swollen head of his 
long hard penis toward her wetly parting lips. 

At the peak of uncontrolled excitement, it seemed the most natural thing in 
the world to take the blond-haired man's massively distended penis into her 
mouth. Chris kept her eyes open in delight now as his satiny cock-head 
brushed against her willingly separated lips. She wanted to do it! She 
wanted to arouse in the older man the same wild, churning sensations that 
his continued licking at her eagerly squirming pussy had brought to her. 

The young blonde opened her mouth and her lips rounded softly over 
Scarboro's lust-knotted cock. She was pleasantly surprised by its warm 
rubbery texture and slight pungent flavor and by the way it throbbed in her 
mouth like a second heart. Slowly, experimentally at first, she ran her 
tongue over the pulsating head. Then, gaining confidence, she began to swirl 
her tongue in tiny licking circles along the sensitive under-ridge beneath 
the head, feeling Ken's body stiffen and tense as she began sucking harder 
on his lust-filled rod of male flesh. When Chris had first heard of women 
performing oral sex on men, she'd thought anyone who might do it was immoral 
and perverted. Yet here she was, drawing her lips around Scarboro's long 
thick hardness while he was rocking his hips back and forth into her face 
and God! ... She was loving it! 

Christina looked up to see Ken's eyes glued on her lushly ovalled lips as he 
continued to revolve his hips slowly back and forth in front of her face, 
flexing the muscles of his buttocks to drive his pulsing hot cock deeper 
into her soft warm mouth. She accepted it, convulsing and hollowing the 
moistly clasping insides of her mouth around the lengthy shaft until all of 
it was absorbed and the spongy, desire-enlarged head brushed the back of her 
throat. Only a tiny stretch of the wide fleshy base showed between her nose 
and his light reddish blond pubic hair as she tightened her lips like an 
elastic band around its exciting thickness. 

As far as Chris was concerned, this was heaven. She would have been 
satisfied if it had gone on forever, but the hypnotic rhythm of their two 
bodies moving so lewdly together was broken when Scarboro suddenly stopped. 
She stiffened and whimpered as he pulled his cock wetly from her mouth, "Oh 
please ... don't stop! That was so ... so exciting!" she gasped through her 
passion-dimmed haze. 

A big grin stretched across Scarboro's face. "Stop? Who's stopping? We're 
just getting started, honey." 

Looking down and straining to see, she peered at Ken now rising up on his 
knees between her widespread legs. His hand gripped his visibly pulsating 
cock that had been sucked and licked to huge proportions while he had thrust 
it repeatedly between her sensually full pink lips. 

"I'm going to fuck you now, baby," he explained the obvious. 

Christina stared down with masochistic fascination as his hand continued to 
grip his thickly distended shaft. 

Her eyes widened in amazement as he anxiously pulled back the loose fold of 
foreskin to reveal the plum-colored blood-engorged head. "God Ken ... it's 
so big." 

The blond man looked at her, smiling, as he saw her eyes taking in the 
entire blood-engorged length of his cock. "You thought that licking your 
pussy felt good ... wait till you feel this baby deep inside that beautiful 
little cunt of yours." 

"You promise ... not to hurt me?" Chris wavered pleadingly, then sank back 
onto the pillow trembling uncontrollably. His penis was too big! He was much 
bigger than the two younger boys she had gone to bed with! Surely it was 
going to hurt too much! She couldn't possibly take it all inside the 
tightness of her small, almost virginal pussy. But then the devils of desire 
in her belly began to dance wildly again at the mere thought of his huge 
thickness plowing deep up inside her belly. She didn't care if it hurt! More 
than anything else in the world, she needed a big beautiful cock fucking up 
between her legs, fucking her till she came! 

"Spread your legs!" Scarboro commanded thickly and she immediately obeyed. 

Every last bit of will power seemed to have been submerged in her 
overpowering need for orgasm. She felt him draw her swaying thighs apart and 
shivered with unexpected delight as his tongue lowered to give one last lick 
at the moist pink crevice between them. 

Then he was crawling up between her long widespread legs and pushing the 
young blonde's thighs apart till her knees hit the mattress. He grasped his 
thick aching penis in his hand and guided it without a moment's delay to the 
warm velvety mouth of her wetly clasping cunt. Christina could feel the 
turgid rubbery head throbbing against her moist little pussy lips, exerting 
just enough pressure so she knew in a moment he would be filling her to 
completion. She looked above to the mirror placed so lewdly over the bed and 
saw her long platinum hair strung crazily over the pillow, giving her a wild 
abandoned look. She also saw the songwriter's muscularly naked back and 
buttocks squirming over her body, sweat rivuleting off his back as he 
uplifted and flexed his ass-cheeks - and then ... oh God, she thought ... It 
looks so ... ! 

"Uggggh," her thoughts were cut off, as, with a loud grunt, he thrust his 
powerful hips forward, his heavily plunging penis slithering deep up into 
her quivering vagina. 

"Oh oh God!" her eyes widened as Ken pushed up forcefully, stretching her 
moist cuntal walls till she thought her young belly would be sundered in 
two. 

She could feel his rigidly thrusting cock burrowing up through her dilating 
vaginal passage, bringing a warm seething magic to her cock-hungry cunt. 
Wave after wave of forbidden pleasure gusted through her ... she could feel 
the clasping walls of her pussy being gloriously strained by what must be 
the most gigantic penis in the entire world! "I can't believe it - you're so 
big!" she gasped, feeling her inner vaginal muscles relaxing, then pulling 
in to embrace its cunt-filling length. Her tight little belly had never felt 
so complete in her life! 

"Yessss," she intoned, "Yessss ... put it up my ... OH KEN screw me with 
your beautiful prick ... DO IT ... Fuck me!" 

"Say it again," he paused, letting his cock-shaft rest smolderingly inside 
her cunt for a moment. 

"OH ... I'm going out of my miiiind," she moaned as Ken plowed his rod of 
pulsating flesh deep up her searing vagina, pressing great waves of clinging 
pussy flesh in ripples of erotic pleasure before it. 

Chris's every forbidden wish seemed to be coming true! Cock! Prick! Yes ... 
that's what she'd always wanted and needed. Her belly quaked and throbbed 
convulsively as the smooth-pistoning penis thrust headlong up her almost 
virginal young pussy again and again. Her mind whirled in useless circles, 
making fruitless efforts to reason out what the songwriter was doing to her 
... but Chris could focus her attention on nothing save the long virile 
penis filling her tingling vagina so full, crushing pleasurably her inner 
organs as it dug even deeper up between her scissored open legs. Scarboro 
was fucking her as she had never been fucked before! 

"Good God! Jesus!" the blonde groans rose and then fell off into 
incoherence. It felt like Ken's cock would burst into her throat if he 
didn't stop! 

"Damn! Sweet, sweet pussy," Scarboro's cloudy voice answered, sounding as 
though it had come from a great distance. 

His cock-shaft felt massive enough to be an ancient battering ram thrust 
into the portals of a castle of flesh ... 

He withdrew slowly, only to sink up into her with a fitful sigh. Back and 
forth he sawed, his buttocks relaxing as he pulled out, then flexing inward 
once more as he screwed up his hips and fucked forcefully into her tight 
little cunt. As he withdrew, her pussy lips pulled out lewdly around his 
lust-thickened shaft, folding over and slipping in again as he drove it home 
each time. 

Chris threw her legs wider and gasped. She criss-crossed her arms over his 
powerful straining back and chanted - "Ohhhhh ... fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" 

Above the shamelessly pinioned young blonde on the bed, her naked young form 
in the mirror was writhing and twisting as though in some wild obscene dance 
of death. She dug her nails sharply into his back, seeing them draw thin 
bloodless lines along the tensing sides of his spine. Scarboro responded 
like a wild stallion. He began to plunge into her passionately clasping 
young pussy hard and heavy, indifferent to whether he was hurting. He banged 
her lush young body across the bed as Chris lewdly lifted and wrapped her 
legs around his naked waist and locked her ankles together. She drew up her 
warm-fleshed buttocks to get more of that rigidly plunging cock deep into 
her throbbing belly, feeling the head of it thud again and again against her 
cushiony cervix. "I'm ... cummmming! Oh God, I'm cummmmiiinnng!" she moaned, 
tightening her grip on his back, "Fuck me some more ... harder!" 

Scarboro redoubled his efforts and they inched slowly across the mattress, 
her hips lifted clear only to be slammed down again and again until she 
could no longer even see her shamelessly twisting body in the mirror. "Fuck, 
fuck me some more!" she cried. Her head was hanging over the edge of the bed 
and she saw the room upside down as Scarboro fucked into her with an 
uncontrolled fury. Now her shoulders were extending outward from the 
mattress and in two more brutal thrusts, her nakedly rotating buttocks would 
be free and she would crash to the floor. 

Her head was touching the floor, banging against it, when it happened. It 
was irreversible. Nothing could stop it. She began to moan and gag on her 
own saliva, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body convulsed, her 
hips thrusting straight up as she came. "AAAAAGHhhhh! God! Fuck it harder! 
Haaarrrddder!" And her cum exploded inside her head and her vision faded. 
She saw red and came again and again with an intensity so powerful she 
thought her heart had stopped beating. 

Above her, Scarboro, half off the bed, held onto her hips with powerful 
hands and fucked on furiously. One, two, three last thrusts and he moaned 
and roared ... then Chris felt his deeply embedded cock swelling and 
shuddering and his white-hot cum began spurting lava-like deep into her 
ravaged little cunt and belly. Then, with a shuddering moan, he fell on top 
of her and they both tumbled, in a sweating, panting mass, to the floor 
where they slumped and held tightly to one another. 

After a long moment, Scarboro rolled off her lifeless form and lay on his 
back on the carpet, sweat streaming down his face as he stared at the 
ceiling. "Jesus! Where did you say you're from?" 

"Shreveport, Wisconsin." Chris was confused. 

"Holy Christ!" he glanced over at her. "That was something else." 

"Really?" Chris smiled. It was true, they had fucked and she had loved it, 
felt things she'd never known about before. 

"What a day," he groaned to himself. Scarboro wiped the sweat from his 
forehead and looked at his hand. "You been to bed with a lot of men?" 

"Two," Chris sighed. "It really wasn't much. I mean, it was just once with 
each one. We never saw each other again." 

Scarboro pulled himself up from the carpet with a groan and looked down at 
her. "I don't know if I can keep up with you." 

Ken disappeared to the bathroom and Christina was left, once again, 
wondering what he meant. Communication between the two of them was difficult 
at best. He talked in English, but half the things he said left her 
wondering, puzzling over them as if he had spoken in another language. 

The air-conditioner blew the gauze curtains out over the oriental carpet, 
casting a blurred shadow over her white abdomen. Finally, she pulled herself 
up and sat down on the edge of the bed, still catching her breath. She 
sighed in utter satisfaction, too exhausted to think and felt numbly at the 
wetness all around her. The rug beneath her and the sheets on the bed were 
soaked with mingled sweat and cum. 

"I don't know how you're going to sleep on this bed," she smiled as Ken came 
naked out of the bathroom. "The sheets are all wet." 

He laughed, felt the soaked linen sheet and drew his hand away. His eyes 
crinkled up when he said, "Let's pull off this bottom one. Then we can sleep 
on the top one." 

"We?" 

"Sure ... you are sleeping on the bed, aren't you?" he laughed. 

"I don't know." 

"Yes you are. Then you're coming with me to Florida." 

"Oh," Chris said, without question. Somehow, the way he had said it made it 
all so ... definite. Well, it is a vacation, she thought and she had dreamed 
of getting away from New Orleans for a few days. 

Ken Scarboro turned off the air-conditioning and the lights, then pulled the 
table out from the balcony, letting in the hot summer air. Then, just as 
Chris was returning from the bathroom, he pulled her over to a chair and 
they made love again, with her riding up and down on his thickly upstanding 
penis ... her hips rising and falling above his own, the early morning wind 
from the river tangling in her long blonde hair. 

Both of them came fast, almost immediately. She held him under his arms, 
feeling his chest spasm and his lean muscular thighs lift up beneath her. 
His face contorted, grew red, as he came with a powerful groan into her 
furiously milking pussy. 

"Oh God ... so good ... so good!" she cried, orgasming right after him. 

In bed, Scarboro wrapped his arm under her shoulder and fell asleep almost 
right away while Chris lay in the darkness, thinking of all that had 
happened and the strange fact that she was suddenly going to Florida. The 
neon lights from the Royal Hotel cast a soft florid glow over the room. They 
lay nakedly on the bed with no covers. Much later, Scarboro groaned and 
rolled over on his side and Chris, who had been studying him sleeping for 
over an hour now, watched him from this new angle. His shoulders were broad 
and his thighs thick and covered with blond hair. Only his back was ... 
ordinary. Funny ... he's vain ... but he doesn't even know it, were her last 
thoughts before she fell asleep. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

When Chris awoke the next morning, she was alone and she lay blinking, 
staring at her naked image reflected back in the mirror set overhead in the 
huge canopied bed. Her long blonde hair streamed over the pillow, giving her 
a wanton appearance and she looked sexily older, she thought, somehow. Then 
her gaze shifted to the balcony; the French doors were still open, but 
someone had pulled closed the sheer nylon curtains and they fluttered softly 
in a slight breeze. Outside she could hear voices and what sounded like a 
lot of traffic. God, she thought, it must be around noon, then ... I wonder 
where Ken has gone to ? 

She rolled over on her side, away from the window and pulled up the sheet. 
She had just closed her eyes and was about to drift back into sleep when 
Scarboro burst noisily through the door. He smiled at her and sat down on 
the side of the bed. 

"What time is it?" the young blonde said. 

"Twelve noon," he lit a cigarette. 

"How long have you been up?" she asked curiously. 

"Since about eight," he said. "I don't need more than four hours sleep. I 
got a twenty hour day." 

"God," Chris murmured to no one in particular, just in reaction to the 
thought. 

"C'mon," he said. "You got to get up now. Tom's gone to rent us an 
automobile." 

The restaurant at the Royal Hotel was set up in the inner courtyard. Fifteen 
minutes later, Chris was sitting at a small outdoor table across from 
Scarboro, sipping thick chicory coffee while the songwriter drummed his 
fingertips nervously on the white table cloth. 

"Where did Tom stay?" she blinked at him in the bright sun. 

"Why, right here," he grinned. "He had the room next to mine. We always stay 
together." 

"Uhhhh ... oh!" Chris smiled back, thinking she had a lot to learn about how 
he and his friend did things. "Does he mind me going along?" 

"Naw ... he's used to it. We're real different. I'm the kind of guy who's 
got to have a woman, you know?" he laughed. "But Tom ... well, he's not 
queer or anything ... but he's got his head up in the clouds ... Music'll do 
that to some guys," he said and put on some sunglasses. They were blue and a 
perfect match to his blue polo shirt. "What do you think of these? Too 
loud?" 

"I don't know," Chris said. 

"That's what I was afraid of," he smiled wryly and put them back in his 
pocket. 

He went on. "My problem isn't that I haven't got any taste. I got too much 
taste! You let me know if I get to be too much for you ... what's the 
matter?" 

"I think you're crazy," the young blonde laughed. "No, I don't mean that ... 
but I've never met anyone like you." 

"Not many people have," he said good-naturedly. "You're one of the precious 
few ... it's a very select group." 

Chris watched sparrows fluttering back and forth over the expanse of open 
blue sky above the courtyard. The outdoor restaurant was rimmed by three 
tiers of balconies on each side and a pretty, Spanish-looking maid appeared 
and re-appeared, changing sheets on the third level. Then they were moving 
into the lobby to see if Tom had arrived yet. 

When Tom came in, Chris was left alone. She wandered among the wicker chairs 
in the sun porch while the two men and the bellboys loaded up the rented 
Volkswagon. Tom didn't appear to resent her presence - in fact, he gave her 
a friendly wave. Chris moved out onto the sidewalk - suddenly she'd 
remembered she didn't have any belongings, but she couldn't mention it until 
the bellboys had left and the car was pulling down Royal Street. 

Chris got on with Tom right away. For one thing, he didn't seem to mind 
going back for her things. He was quiet and more easy going than Ken. She 
could tell he came from a background similar to hers and conversation was 
easy with him, because they had so much in common. For another thing, he got 
Ken to slow down his driving. The two men acted like brothers; they bickered 
and bantered in a way that only people who were close could. And Ken took it 
- Chris could hardly believe it, she would never have imagined someone 
talking that way to Ken! 

By the time they were crossing the line into Alabama, Ken was back up to 
about eighty-five. He was an expert, but very fast driver. Chris was in the 
back seat, more or less packed between a turntable and two speakers, with 
her long blonde hair whipping in the strong wind. Both the men had their 
windows rolled all the way down. When Chris leaned forward to ask Tom if 
he'd roll up the window, she could see his foot pumping on an imaginary 
brake. 

"Jesus CHRIIIIIIIIST! I wish you'd slow down," he said as the songwriter 
brought it back up to eighty. 

"Calm down." 

"Yeah, that's easy enough for you to say. I'm the one that's in the suicide 
seat." 

"At this speed, it doesn't make much difference," Ken pointed out. "Actually 
you don't even need seat belts." 

Scarboro slowed down to seventy and sank into a glum mood. "You guys just 
make me so nervous," he rolled his window half way up. 

"We make you nervous." 

"Yeah," Ken frowned at a semi ahead of them but tagged behind. "I never 
heard two people talk so much. Chattering and giggling. I feel like I'm 
driving a school bus ... " 

It was pitch black and they were well into Alabama before they made the 
first stop. Ken pulled up into a modern rest area. They had a full dinner in 
a large cafeteria and once again the young coed was amazed at the easy 
relationship between the two men; now they were discussing the music 
business in a serious way, as though the irritable outbursts in the car had 
never happened. Chris got up and went to the ladies room; she put a quarter 
in the perfume machine and got a spray of expensive perfume just for fun. 
Now it was Tom's turn to drive. Outside Tom was busy adjusting the front 
seat for his long legs and afterwards, when she'd climbed in the back, he 
gave her a sleeping pill. 

Chris woke at four and it was she who drove over the Alabama-Florida line - 
the beach house was located just inside Florida. Actually, it seemed more 
like a small farm house than a beach house and sat in the center of a huge 
area of tree-less green turf, connected to the highway by a narrow dirt 
road. There were four bedrooms - one of the first things she looked for - 
with a big screened porch across the rear and a panoramic view of the 
coastline for miles in all directions. 

On the first day, Chris drove around with Ken on errands while Tom slept 
around the clock. Ken was waiting for a check from their lawyer. Finally, on 
the fifth day, it arrived, but Ken was dissatisfied with the amount. 

They were walking along the dirt road, coming back from the mail box set up 
on the highway. Chris was barefoot and her jeans were wet from where she and 
Tom had spent the morning exploring down along the beach where the rocks 
made tidal pools. Ken wouldn't go that close to the water - actually being 
in the water gave him the creeps. 

"Let me see it," Chris squinted up her eyes in the bright noon sun. "I've 
never seen a check for that much money." 

Scarboro handed over the check to her and laughed. 

"Jesus Christ," Chris was picking up the habit of swearing from being around 
the two men. "Are you going to split it between you?" 

"Yeah ... but it isn't really that much," he said worriedly. 

"Not that much!" she handed it back and shook her long platinum hair free 
from her shoulders. 

"Shoot, that won't even pay Tom's dope bill." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"You figure it out," he said as they came up to where the wild grass began 
running down to the beach. "How come you spend so much time with Tom?" 

Chris stopped in her tracks. "Are you jealous?" 

"Maybe I am." A guilty grin spread across his face. 

"Well, you don't need to be ... Tom is like my brother. Okay?" she wrapped 
her arm around his waist. 

They came up the dirt path to the back porch. As always, there was overly 
loud music coming from the living room, a fact of existence living with the 
two songwriters that the young blonde had thought would drive her crazy, at 
first, though now she was starting to get used to it. 

"Still," Ken muttered to himself as she went through the screen door. "I 
told you the truth ... so that's fair warning." 

Chris didn't think anymore about that as the short vacation extended into 
two, then three weeks and finally a month. The fall semester at Tulane had 
already started - without her -before she realized it. But it didn't matter. 
By now, it was generally assumed that she would be going back to California 
with the two men. 

At breakfast, they sat in a shaft of sunlight on the porch, their heads bent 
over a pine table. Later, when the tide ran out, she and Ken would go for a 
walk. Still later, all three of them would sit down together at the big pine 
table and Chris would light a kerosene lamp. They would eat dinner and drink 
a bottle of cold white wine until Ken and Chris slipped off to bed, leaving 
Tom at the table, listening to the radio. 

Then, one day, Ken came into the kitchen early from the living room where 
the two men had been working and pressed his chest tight against her back, 
his big hands seizing her firmly by her ripe young breasts. "This is going 
to be a very sexy day," he muttered. But the next thing the young blonde 
girl knew, he had said goodbye to Tom and taken off to Tampa without her! 

After Ken had left, Chris and Tom went down to the water. They spent the day 
lying on the rocks and talking, then Chris came back at eight and went to 
bed early. 

Much later, she awoke with a loud crash from the porch. The young blonde 
tossed the sheet from her nakedly reclining body, reached for the alarm on 
the bed table - it was two o'clock in the morning. She had just pulled on 
one of Ken's shirts when the songwriter appeared in the doorway. He was 
grinning and his face was flushed; Chris didn't have to look very hard to 
tell he'd been drinking ... in fact, he was carrying a small bar - cokes, 
ice and rum - in his hands on a tray in front of him. 

"Oh, it's you," she drew her long blonde hair back from her forehead with 
her fingers. "I'm glad you got back from Tampa ... all right." 

Now the songwriter stood at the bureau with two glasses and a bottle of rum, 
mixing drinks. "C'mon," Ken said as he sat down beside her on the edge of 
the bed, giving her one glass, "I want you to get drunk with me." 

"Okay," Christina toasted him and drank. "Here's to getting drunk at two 
o'clock in the morning." 

Chris choked on the dark strongly mixed liquid, but she finished it off, 
then the songwriter fixed them another round. He was still grinning and he 
seemed excited about something as he looked at her directly, trying to 
explain something to her despite the fact he'd been drinking. "Now if you 
want real happiness with me, Chris, you got to do exactly as I say. Right?" 

"I suppose so," the young blonde laughed. 

"Always you got to do exactly as I say," he went on seriously, ignoring her 
amusement, not laughing with her. "Now it might not make any sense at first. 
But if you do what I want and like I say, it will. Then, after awhile, at 
least you'll be happy!" 

Chris lay back in her shirt, trying to get down the strong glass of almost 
straight rum. "What you're saying doesn't really make any sense to me," she 
laughed. "But ... I guess ... it sounds good!" 

"Sure, it sounds good," he got up and moved to the bureau, grinning back at 
her. "Everything I say sounds good!" He finished off his drink and began 
mixing another round. "Now, first of all," he frowned back over his 
shoulder. "I got to break down all your taboos ... and superstitions." 

"How do you know I have any?" Chris's eyes watched him, measuring the amount 
of rum, as he tipped the Bacardi bottle. Jesus, already she was getting 
high! 

"Well, we'll see," he looked back over his shoulder with the same grin 
playing over his lips. "But first you got to get naked." 

Ken came back to the bed and they drained their glasses and refilled them; 
then the blond-haired man was pulling open the sides of her shirt. She sat 
on the bed, naked under the shirt, the half-open front suggestively parted 
to expose her pink-nippled breasts. They began necking, with Ken nibbling 
gently on her ear, then he was running his hand along her responsively 
trembling thigh as she watched him with eyes that were getting difficult to 
focus. 

Christina realized the drinks were hitting her hard. Now she was sprawled on 
her back on the bed and the shirt was completely open, revealing her entire 
naked body. One long slender leg was straight out and the other was bent at 
the knee, shamelessly exposing her blonde-fringed pussy. She was aware of 
her lewdly provocative position, but at the moment she just didn't care. She 
was excited in a vague, smoky way as Ken - still completely dressed - stood 
up beside the bed and smiled down at her. He had been talking to her and 
Chris was confused for a moment. What had he been saying? She wondered, 
suddenly realizing she'd been drinking way too much. Had he been making love 
to her? 

"That's it, baby," his soft voice came to her soothing and insinuating. "I 
want you to be completely uninhibited." 

Why not? she thought. Why not do what pleases him? Although she was 
certainly never going to drink this much again ... ever. 

"I want you to be a slut, a whore," his voice went on hoarsely. 

"Okay," Christina spread her long tapered legs farther and sliding one hand 
down the flat plane of her belly, began wantonly kneading her sparse blonde 
pussy hair with her fingers. 

For a long moment, she fondled her rapidly moistening cuntal mound while Ken 
watched. Then, suddenly, there was a loud noise in the hallway and she 
started. 

The surprised young blonde jerked her massaging fingers from her inflamed 
pussy. She tried to pull up the sheet and cover herself, but Ken's hand's 
pushed her assertively back. 

"No, just stay like that," her boy friend said. "It's all right. I got 
something worked out. I want you to stay the way you are and do exactly what 
I say." He seemed to be returning to their earlier topic of conversation, 
though she could hardly remember it now. 

He bent over her nakedly reclining body and thrust his tongue deep in her 
mouth. 

"Now, you just lie right there," he said excitedly as he moved to the door. 
"Don't move! I'll be right back." 

His sensually inflamed young girl friend sank back on the sheet and closed 
her eyes. Ken's aroused kiss, his long probing tongue had excited her 
further. Now she was drunk and anxious to make love and her thoughts weren't 
clear, but she felt good ... so goooooooood! ... terrific! She totally 
relaxed like Ken said, lifting her buttocks slightly, slowly rolling them 
around, enjoying the lewd sensation just moving her hips aroused in her. 

Moments later, she heard voices and sensed that someone other than Ken was 
standing beside the bed. Feeling like she was fighting out of a deep coma, 
she managed to open her eyes and stare into the grinning face of a tall, 
red-haired woman! 

"This is Sharon," Ken caught her hand when she reached for the sheet to 
cover herself. "She's an old friend of mine. I ran into her in Tampa." 

Beside him, the girl he'd called Sharon gave a loud laugh. 

"Who?" Chris mumbled and struggled vainly, once again, to pull up the sheet 
but Scarboro nudged her back. 

"Sharon," the songwriter repeated, his huge form looming over her. "She 
works in a bar. She's a topless dancer. In Tampa." 

Chris looked stupified at the woman. She appeared tall ... or maybe it was 
just because Chris was lying down ... and she must have been older than the 
young blonde, probably in her mid-twenties. Her micro-miniskirt and tight 
green sweater looked like they'd been glued to her curvaceous body and she 
was glancing at the songwriter in a flirtacious, amused way that Chris 
didn't much care for. 

Then Sharon turned, as though she were going to leave the room, but Ken's 
hand caught her firmly by the arm. "Hang on. It's going to work out fine," 
he spoke in an insistent tone to the woman. 

"But I ... I don't understand," Chris said in an alcohol-slurred voice. 

Suddenly, the attractive redhead looked up at Chris's boy friend and wrapped 
her arm around his waist. "Oh, you will, honey, you will." She laughed. 
"You're boy friend here has wild tastes." 

Ken drew away from Sharon and frowned from the edge of the bed down into 
Christina's face. "You're going to do exactly what I say, remember? ... 
Well, right now, I want you to just lie there and relax and let Sharon do 
whatever she wants to you." 

The older woman looked at Christina's frightened eyes, then frowned 
doubtfully up at Ken. "Look, are you sure this is going to work out?" she 
shook her long red hair back from her shoulders. "I mean, I don't want to 
get into any kind of hassle," her eyes swept over Christina's voluptuous 
nakedness and lifted back to Ken. The redhead took a deep breath. "No sir, 
I've gotten by balling men and if you don't mind, I think I'd like to do it 
for awhile longer." 

The blond songwriter looked annoyed. "I told you it's okay. This is a new 
thing for her, so she's a little upset and scared. Go on, you can be first." 

Sharon grinned down at Christina who looked back up with big uncomprehending 
eyes. Did Ken really expect her to have sex with this red-haired woman? 
"No," she cried. "I've never done such a thing before!" 

Ken walked up to the edge of the bed. "You're going to do exactly what I 
say!" he commanded. "Now just be still; no one's going to hurt you." 

Ken straightened, walked away from the bed in his shoulder-shrugging way and 
sat down in a chair, moving the chair into good viewing position. He nodded 
to the auburn-haired dancer who pulled her blouse up over her head and 
tossed it onto the bureau. Seconds later, she unclasped a flimsy black 
brassiere, revealing her fully matured breasts. 

Christina watched the rapidly undressing woman with her eyes still wide and 
unfocused from sheer shock. There seemed to be two of her. Two tall, curvy 
Sharon's, overlapping, were now stepping out of their micro-skirts as 
Christina watched. 

Sharon twitched her hips as she began slowly rolling her black bikini 
panties down over her naked abdomen, until her V-shaped triangle of auburn 
pubic curls was visible to Christina on her ivory-skinned body. Finally, she 
pulled the skimpy black panties down her legs and tossed them on the floor, 
exposing her completely naked body to the watching couple. 

Chris stifled a scream. This was a new, depraved side of her boy friend 
she'd never experienced before. Then Ken was pouring her another drink and 
handing her the glass and she was drinking it, to calm her nerves. "Why?" 
Chris asked her voice trembling. 

"Because it gives me pleasure and you're going to like it, too." 

Chris couldn't understand all he said. Her attention was constantly shifting 
between her songwriter boy friend and the red-haired woman. Now she looked 
up to see Sharon kneeling on the bed, up between her open thighs. She tried 
to close her legs, but she couldn't because Sharon's shoulders were in the 
way. In the struggle Christina's thighs had come apart, completely exposing 
the inverted wispy triangle of her blonde-fringed pussy. Her hands flew down 
to cover her helplessly uncovered vagina and Sharon gave a low chuckle, 
saying over her shoulder to Ken, "You didn't tell me she was going to be so 
hostile!" 

Ken ignored her. "Chris, I want you to relax. Loosen up. Don't be so goddamn 
inhibited." 

Christina closed her eyes and tried to keep from making any sound. She could 
feel Sharon's soft hand running over her quivering thighs, touching them in 
a slow sensuous way, lingering over the tingling insides of her separated 
legs, then gently trailing up to where her hands were cupped protectively 
over her naked pussy. 

She could hear Sharon say, in a husky voice, "It won't do any good, honey. 
Remember, I'm a woman and I know what turns us on." 

Gently, Sharon tried to pry Christina's fingers loose with the young blonde 
clutching all the harder, pressing her own fingers into the soft pink flesh 
of her cringing cunt, inadvertently separating the blonde-curled pussy lips 
one from the other. 

Christina's whole body leapt as she felt Sharon's expert tongue licking 
softly on the quivering insides of her thighs and she tightened her hands 
over her whole trembling cuntal area with a sudden, helplessly excited moan. 
She could feel her clitoris swelling like a tiny nub of fire under her own 
clenching fingers, despite her attempt to hold the blaze back. 

"Ohhhhhh, no, please no!" she moaned as Sharon's tongue began licking on and 
on all over her hands, trying to force its wet way between her covering 
fingers and causing shivers of lust to course up and down the young girl's 
spine. God, she didn't want to get turned on, but so lewd and obscene was 
the dancer's slavering at her straining thighs that little shocks of 
pleasure, like electric static, crackled through her entire helplessly 
responding body. 

Wildly, she looked over at her boy friend, who leered with shameless 
delight, his cigarette forgotten in his ash-tray as he watched the older 
woman licking up and down between his young blonde girl friend's parting 
thighs. 

Christina could almost feel the redheaded woman's eyes boring into the 
pinkly glistening slit of her cunt as it peeped erotically from between her 
protecting fingers. Then she felt Sharon's cheek resting on the sensitive 
flesh of her twisting thigh, close enough for the woman's nose and lips to 
be tickled by the sparse silken pussy-hair curling up between her clutching 
fingers. 

The more the older woman's tongue probed, the harder the young blonde 
resisted, realizing with a frustrated moan that the harder she fought, the 
more desperately she was exciting herself. Sharon's tongue began darting 
around, searching for an opening, a weakness, as Chris - in order to prevent 
her - kept moving her fingers faster, inadvertently massaging her own 
pulsating cuntal mound. The desperate defensive movements only intensified 
her arousal and she realized she couldn't go on struggling against the 
pleasure much longer. 

"Oh, God, no!" Her cunt was now becoming moist and her moans increased as 
the waitress's burrowing tongue found the one unprotected corner of her 
moistly throbbing vagina and slowly forced Chris's fingers to one side a 
fateful fraction of an inch. Now Sharon licked furiously while Christina 
gritted her teeth and fought with what little moral force she had left not 
to give in! The utterly delicious sensations rippling through her lusting 
young body were entirely new to the innocent coed. Yes, she thought, there 
was a raging need in her passionately demanding pussy - and maybe it could 
be quenched by another woman. Her moans increased and her heart fluttered as 
though she'd been injected with some strange aphrodisiac. 

"Uuuuuuuuuh!" she coughed, an involuntary groan of delight escaping from her 
throat. 

"Lie back. Just relax," Sharon said. 

Then in a surprise move, Sharon darted her head lower so her tongue could 
find the enticing shadowy crevice of Christina's buttocks, licking crazily 
while her fingers worked to part and widen the younger woman's firmly molded 
ass-cheeks. Christina gasped and moaned while Sharon eased her hands under 
the girl's desperately churning buttocks to cup the two spontaneously 
wriggling half-moons in her hands. The tall, lustfully aggressive redhead 
tilted Christina's hips ever so slightly and the young blonde shuddered as 
she felt Sharon's tongue flick hotly over the sensitive little hole of her 
puckered anus. Then it was slithering inside, unimpeded! 

"Aaaaaaaaargh," Chris groaned before she could think. "It feels ... 
gooooooood!" 

Dumbstruck with shame, she moved her hands to stop the other girl and before 
she realized it, the redhead's moist mouth and tongue were working 
gluttonously over her suddenly exposed pussy lips! Chris twisted and writhed 
helplessly, thrusting her hands down on Sharon's perspiration-beaded 
forehead to push the woman's slavering mouth away. 

"Oh, Ken, stop her ... she's trying to lick ... my pussy!" she called. But 
the protesting movement soon eased into revolving, undulating motions 
designed to get that torturously worming tongue farther up between her 
throbbing cuntal lips! She clenched and ground her ass-cheeks up and down, 
virtually helpless before the long searing tongue thrusting deeper up toward 
her love-starved vaginal hole. It was too good, too delicious to resist 
anymore! 

Her mind flew back to that night in New Orleans, when she and Scarboro had 
seen the young starlet being used and ravaged by two different men at the 
Garden District mansion. With fogged vision, she looked across at him and 
moaned. There, sitting forward in his chair, he was watching again, but this 
time he was watching her shameless submission. Let him see, let him make her 
do anything and everything! 

Oh God! She'd never had her susceptible pussy tongue-loved by anyone, let 
alone another girl. Lesbianism! Yes, that's what it was. It was contrary to 
everything she'd ever been taught or known, but she wanted it anyway! 

Scarboro's impassioned girl friend lifted her head forward to see what she 
could, her eyes suddenly filled with the intoxicating spectacle of Sharon's 
long flame-colored hair streaming like wildfire over her own passionately 
heaving hips and thighs. She felt the soft magic puffs of cool air grazing 
her own delectably naked pussy, merging with the maddening wet caresses of 
Sharon's tongue now furrowing up into her glistening vaginal split from her 
warmly secreting cuntal mouth, then licking her tiny clitoris into excited 
hardness. 

Then the redhead withdrew her burrowing head from between Chris's helplessly 
splayed out thighs. She leaped on top of Christina and ground her throbbing 
pussy down hard onto the blonde girl's aroused vagina, her soft pubic hair 
massaging Christina's moistening cunt and exciting the young coed still 
further. "Split those lovely legs as wide as you can, you're going for a 
real ride now, baby!" Sharon hissed. 

Clear-headed for a second, Chris shot her boy friend an uncertain glance. 

Ken was sitting on the edge of his chair. "Go ahead, let her fuck you," he 
encouraged. "Spread your legs so she can rub her cunt against your pussy!" 

Christina felt the topless go-go girl's voluptuous, supple-fleshed body 
bending over her own and could feel Sharon's softly swaying breasts and 
distended nipples grazing tautly against her own breasts. The pretty 
redhead's mouth lowered down to Chris's lushly full mounds and sucked one 
tingling nipple into a quivering nugget shape. A wild sensation charged 
through Christina's entire nakedly trembling form. It felt to her as though 
a hot balloon were inflating inside her body, a balloon that could be 
exploded at any moment, depending on the next depraved whim of either her 
boy friend or the woman. 

"Open your legs, yessss, open them wide," the redhead directed, lewdly 
sitting straight up over the young blonde's naked loins. 

Sharon again began to grind her pussy hard down against Christina's cunt as 
the obscenely intoxicated younger woman mewled with shameless pleasure and 
thrust up rotating her hips around and around as if they were an oiled ball 
bearings. As the older redhead and the young college coed rubbed their 
excited pussies obscenely together, Chris watched her boy friend wrestling 
out of his clothing. He threw his slacks and shirt carelessly on the floor. 
Then she saw him standing at the side of the bed, his long rigidly swollen 
cock-shaft swaying out in front of him like an obscene serpent. 

With a low guttural groan, Ken glanced at the two excitedly humping females 
and crawled up onto the bed from behind. Christina gasped heavily as his 
additional weight was being placed over Sharon who lay on top of her, 
forming an obscene sandwich with the redhead in the middle. 

It took only an instant for Chris to figure out what her blond boy friend 
was doing. He was fucking Sharon's grateful young pussy from behind and the 
other girl was moaning insanely while her face pressed against Christina's. 
The redhead became blissful and she closed her eyes and groaned, 
"Ohhhhhhhhh! Fuck meeeeee! Yessssssss!" 

Christina could feel the songwriter screwing wildly into the dancer from 
above, could feel his semen-filled balls slap down hard on her own exposed 
pussy flesh between Sharon's widespread thighs. With each thrust Ken made 
into the redhead's eagerly milking cuntal depths, the whole bed rocked 
violently; Sharon's belly jiggled and rippled against Christina's while the 
auburn-haired woman stabbed her tongue deep into the blonde's passionately 
accepting throat. 

Ken shifted his weight and Christina could hear his cock's lubricant-slick 
length slip out of Sharon's moistly clinging cunt, then she felt it part her 
own unresisting pussy mouth. He was in a position to change from one hotly 
hungering cunt to another at will and now he screwed into his imprisoned 
blonde girl friend with an obscene vengeance. The redhead's additional 
weight between them, jiggling like a buffer of resilient foam rubber, 
increased the licentious effects of his wild, hard fucking. The tight wet 
heat of Christina's pussy sucked around her boy friend's rampaging cock like 
a voracious vacuum drawing ardently against the foreskin. Now the 
shamelessly excited blonde felt as though she were past orgasm, that she was 
too aroused to ever have one! 

"Uuuuummmmmm," she hummed into pretty Sharon's passion-swollen lips, wanting 
this insane night to go on forever ... and forever. 

She could sense the strange, obscene aspects of herself opening like a 
pornographic prism inside her. Ken, fucking her hotly receptive cunt and 
then slipping his cock into Sharon's eagerly rocking vagina moments later, 
was lewd and immoral, but so exciting! 

Behind the redhead's kneeling body, Ken grabbed Sharon's nakedly trembling 
buttocks and kneaded the soft globe-like mounds avidly. Then, he fucked her 
some more from the kneeling animal-like position, plunging his ramrod cock 
home until it's turgid head slapped heavily against the cushiony tip of her 
cervix deep inside. 

"Ugh! Ohhhhhh God!" Sharon groaned, raising her passionately straining 
buttocks for more. 

It was savage! Wild! It was just too much! The thought of acting in such a 
bestial way and of being so sluttish was mind blowing! Then her boy friend 
thrusting up into Christina's own clasping pussy hole - forcing his thick, 
blood-engorged penis roughly between her widespread thighs while the 
redheaded woman joggled nakedly on top of her undulating body - was enough 
to drive her to the brink of orgasm. 

"Ooooooooh, I'M CUMMMMMMMMMM-ING!" she moaned into the feathery softness of 
Sharon's long hair trailing across her face. 

Like a crack of sizzling lightning, Christina was cumming, wracked and 
convulsed by a pleasure so sweet and intense her body turned liquid, became 
limp and with a loud groan, she collapsed. 

And still, it wasn't over. 

Chris moved to the side of the mattress, enjoying her body tingling so 
deliciously and the lewd sight of Ken fucking his former girl friend. She 
watched him on top of her, with the dancer's slender legs wrapped around his 
waist as he slammed into her tight little belly with frenzied pile-driving 
force, "Oh, shit - yes, fuck it, fuck it to meeeee!" 

Sharon cried out in wild abandoned ecstasy. Chris could see the woman's 
orgasm approaching in the way the writhing redhead slapped her hands down on 
his flexing ass-cheeks, then flung out her arms. 

Sharon's eyes tightened and closed and Christina felt a sympathetic 
whirlpool of delight racing through her own ravished pussy mound as she 
watched her boy friend's long, blood-engorged shaft pull out to just below 
the heart-shaped head, then plunge back up inside the go-go dancer's 
convulsing vagina again. The redhead kicked out her legs on either side of 
Ken's rigidly muscular torso, grunted, then fell on the mattress with a 
crooning high-pitched squeal. 

Ken scrambled up from the satiated older woman and leaped like a wild satyr 
back onto his young girl friend. "Yes, Chris - It's your turn again, baby!" 
His wickedly impaling hardness slipped easily up into her orgasm-drenched 
pussy. The velvety warmth of her vaginal walls clasped and sucked hotly 
around him, urging him to fuck her into the bed without mercy or thought of 
injury. 

"That's it, Ken," Sharon chanted from beside them. "Yes. Fuck the life out 
of her! Screw her tight little cunt into the mattress!" 

Christina's still throbbing vagina milked him into a hardness and rigidity 
her blond boy friend had never felt before. Her hips were practically 
spinning in place as he groaned and lurched over her. He held the young 
blonde tight around her back, flattening her soft melony breasts against his 
chest, not even caring if she could breathe. 

And then he came! 

Like an erupting volcano, he spewed his hot sperm streams deep up into her 
lustfully tightening cunt, filling her to her tenderly sucking vaginal lips 
and fountaining more of the thick milky jets of semen until it felt as 
though he would burst her open like a cum-filled balloon! 

The night became wilder, more abandoned. Between bouts on the mattress, they 
drank glass after glass of rum laced with Coke, then piled onto the bed 
again, acting as though the Bacardi company had spiked the liquor with an 
aphrodisiac. Half the time, they didn't care what they did and half the time 
Christina couldn't tell who was doing what to whom. Finally, she staggered 
up to the bureau for another drink, then collapsed on the bed, feeling the 
redhead lesbianically fondling her exhausted young body as she fell asleep. 

In the morning, Chris woke with a start. She was hungover - a new experience 
for her - and last night came back to her like the worst nightmare she'd 
ever had, though she knew without thinking twice, it wasn't a nightmare. Her 
eyes flashed around the room ... the dancer was nowhere in evidence. There 
was only Ken Scarboro sleeping heavily, just like always. But now it isn't 
like always ... anymore. 

"What were you trying to do to me?" a fierce cry of rage and near-madness 
tore from her throat. She clawed the air and gritted her teeth. She hated 
him ... wanted to hurt him! Almost instantaneously, she was on her knees, 
clawing at Scarboro's back, pounding on him, a female animal snarl escaping 
her twisted lips. Scarboro woke up fighting with her, having to use his 
strength against hers, forcing her down writhing and panting over his naked 
body. 

"TOM! Jesus Christ!" he howled and exited for the bathroom. 

It was an unusual day for the trio, with Scarboro hiding in the bathroom, 
refusing to come out because he thought Christina was crazy. Tom left them 
only to find Sharon swimming on the beach and drive the redheaded go-go girl 
back into town. When he came back a kind of peace had been made - Scarboro 
had promised that they would leave for California immediately. 

Three hours later they were stopped in front of the only red light in 
Jeffrey, Florida. Chris sat in the back, Tom Hill was at the wheel and Ken 
Scarboro sat beside him clutching a beer can. A petite brunette passed by on 
the sidewalk and Scarboro rolled the window down. 

"I got to drop this car off in Atlanta," he muttered back over his shoulder 
to the other two. 

"We know that, Ken, we know that," Tom said patiently. 

"Ma'am, you know the way to Atlanta?" Scarboro leaned out of the window. 

"C'mon, Tom, drive, get us out of here," Chris gritted her teeth as the 
young woman turned and backed away from them with a shocked look. 

"I can't ... It's a red light!" 

This time, due to haste, the small Volkswagon was less precisely packed. 
Chris sat between two huge suitcases and there was another in the front 
under Ken's long legs. 

"Do you love me?" Scarboro turned back to his blonde girl friend with a 
sorrowful expression. "You can just say it, you don't have to mean it." 

"I love you," Chris said. 

"And what about me?" Tom mused. 

"I love you both," Chris wrapped an arm around each man and gave them each a 
kiss on the cheek. 

"Whoopee!" Tom said. Then the light changed and they were off to Atlanta. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

It was an early November afternoon in Los Angeles and the heat had still not 
broken. Tom and Christina and Ken gathered around the pool in the back yard 
of the two songwriters' luxurious home. Ken was sitting on the edge of the 
pool, dangling his feet in the water and holding a glass of scotch in his 
hand, while Chris hovered angrily bent over behind him in her blue bikini. 
She couldn't have worn much less without going around stark naked. It was a 
revealingly small suit and she never took it off, just as Scarboro always 
wore his swimming suit. Ken and Christina pulled on swimming suits in the 
morning like other people dressed in ordinary clothes. The only exception 
was Tom who wore his perennial black T-shirt and jeans. He looked 
uncomfortable because the young blonde and her boy friend were having an 
argument about the night in Florida - the only time the incident had been 
mentioned since they got back home. 

"You're a ... a bully!" Christina searched for an insult. 

Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on the smell of jasmine. Far down and 
along the back yard, behind the thick hedges, he could hear children 
splashing in the neighbor's swimming pool. 

"No, I'm not," Scarboro's voice drifted back uneasily, sounding guilty. 

"Ah ... hah!" Even with his eyes closed, he could imagine the way Chris' 
barely covered young breasts jiggled voluptuously as she arched her back up, 
letting the point sink in. She had got to him! She had hit home! 

"No, I'm not," Ken finally recovered himself and got up to make another 
drink from the bottle sitting on the patio table. "A bully makes people do 
what he wants. You can do anything you want to." 

"I bet." 

"That's true," Scarboro said. Then there was the sound of ice cubes jiggling 
in a glass. 

Abruptly, Tom Hill stood up and exited through the patio into the living 
room. He padded across the thick white carpet to the stereo, put on ear 
phones and plopped into a chair. Jesus, one thing he hated was conflict! He 
turned up the music as loud as he could stand it and let it beat the 
incident out of his head for a good half hour, then he got up again and 
moved to the large black grand piano at the front end of the room. 

Now it was quiet ... everything was all right again. It was hot, but not 
unpleasant and Ken said that this month they were making a lot of money. 
Outside the plate glass window, roses and poinsettias were in bloom on the 
front lawn. Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on the smell of jasmine, 
then he began just doodling around on the piano, having fun, because it 
wasn't his instrument anyway ... 

"Oh, I thought you had left the house," he heard Christina's voice from 
behind him. 

Still playing, he turned and saw Chris walking barefoot over the carpet, her 
barely covered breasts swaying slightly as she moved toward him. 

"Hello." She scooched her legs into the narrow space between the piano and 
the bench and sat down beside him. 

Tom smiled back and kept on playing. Then his eyes crinkled up in an 
inquisitive look - Christina was looking at him in a warm, glinting way he 
had never noticed before. 

"Where's Ken gone to?" he smiled back. 

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders. "Probably down to a bar on the 
beach. Who gives a damn anyway?" 

Tom went on playing and she continued. "At least I don't ... do you?" 

"No, I guess not," Tom hesitated and found himself grinning. He forced 
himself to be more serious and asked, "You guys make up?" 

"Yes ... But who cares, you know? Personally, I'm glad he's out of the house 
for a change. You're more fun to be with than he is." 

"I am?" Tom was surprised. 

"Yes, you are." 

"How?" 

"Well, you can carry on a straightforward conversation for one thing. and 
well ... like remember that time we went scuba-diving?" 

Tom found himself disappointed somehow. Scuba-diving and talking didn't seem 
like very exciting things to be remembered for. His eyes flicked wider as 
Chris leaned forward, bending her elbow on top of the piano and resting her 
head in her hand. Her ripe, young breasts moved closer together, deepening 
the cleavage between them and her long blonde hair flicked softly across his 
hand on the keys before she lifted her arm and pulled her hair back over her 
shoulder. As he looked at her skimpy blue bathing suit, he could feel a 
turgid heat in his testicles that signaled the beginning of an erection. He 
could feel his cock was getting hard by the way the tight, restricting 
material of his jeans was straining against his penis. 

"You want to smoke?" he said, abruptly rising. 

"No. You know I don't like smoking marijuana," she said and for some unknown 
reason he felt his legs grow weak and he sank back down onto the piano 
bench. 

Chris laughed, flashing gleaming, perfectly straight teeth. She reached 
behind and tossed her hair again. She brushed a blonde wisp back from her 
forehead, strangely blushing and said, "You're stoned right now." 

"Aren't I always?" he laughed. 

Then she frowned and he imitated her expression. He turned to the piano and 
played a major chord, then slipped into a jarring dissonance, then bowed. 

"Bravo!" she applauded. 

"Thanks," he said and felt uncomfortable again as she moved slightly closer 
and turned toward him so he could feel her firm warm breast brush against 
his arm. 

"You sure you don't want to smoke?" he said. 

"C'mon, teach me to play the piano," she said, resting her hand on his arm. 

"Well, I don't know," he said, feeling his balls melt and his cock freeze. 

Tom Hill turned to the side and his eyes caught on Christina's smoothly 
sloping shoulder, naked but for the small blue strap holding up her bikini 
top. Then he was kissing her arm, nibbling at the sensitive goose bumps of 
flesh and she sighed and he was surprised she didn't try to pull away from 
him. 

"Wow," he mumbled. 

He was kissing her neck now, licking his tongue along the smooth suntanned 
skin until he was caressing below her ear, blowing hotly against the 
sensitive lobe. She didn't try to get up, though he held her now rigidly by 
the forearm, twisting himself toward her so that their lips met and his 
tongue wormed wetly into her mouth. 

"Jesus," she said. 

He laughed and kissed her again. For Christina, it felt like thousands of 
little needles were pricking at her loins. In the pit of her belly the 
white-hot heat merged with a weak feeling she'd experienced only moments 
before when she first sat down at the piano. She felt Tom shift his weight 
and then looked down to see him unzipping his jeans. It was a bright 
afternoon, but she figured the other houses were so far away that no one 
could see them through the open windows. In the white sunlight she looked 
down at the length of his hard young penis. It was long and slender, with a 
few black pubic curls anointing its base. 

Tom touched her hand and guided it to his erect cock. At first, she 
tightened her hand into a fist, but as soon as he pushed his pulsating 
hardness against the ridges of her fingers, she unclasped her hand and 
instinctively wrapped her fingers around it. She began jerking his slender, 
fully erect cock in one hand, while Tom closed his eyes and heard himself 
breathing deeper. 

Christina glanced out the window, once again, to see if anyone could see 
them. The street was empty now of any traffic and the closest house, on the 
other side of the street and a good distance away, looked shut up as if the 
occupants - an older screenwriter and his wife - were still sleeping. 
Through the open curtains, sunlight radiated around the piano, making her 
pale body look luminous and Tom's suntan appear smokily dark. 

Suddenly, the young songwriter rose up and turning her around by her 
shoulders, stood in front of the piano bench so that her head was a scant 
few inches from the warm lust-inflated head of his cock. With no prompting, 
Christina reached up to hold his penis tightly between both hands, stroking 
it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused 
his hard-tensed buttocks to undulate in time to her maddening rhythm. 

"Wow ... yes, keep it up, keep it up!" the dark-haired young man intoned to 
the sensuous figure sitting provocatively beneath him. 

Christina's head moved slowly toward the slender hardness of his cock and 
suddenly her tongue flicked out, the tip boring teasingly into the slight 
moistness of the small opening at the end. "Ohhh!" he sucked in his breath 
from the excruciatingly pleasurable contact. 

His lean stomach tensed and rippled and he could feel the sinews of his 
pelvis tightening spasmodically. He'd never even imagined anything like this 
before. It had all happened so fast that he supposed Christina was as 
surprised as he was. He watched as the young blonde brought her lushly 
ovalled mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of his slim hard cock 
in a soft warm pressure that caused the bulbously throbbing tip to become 
even more turgid and hot. Her lips tightened like a pink elastic band just 
below his pulsating cock-head, trapping his lust-thickened hardness 
maddeningly inside the warm wet cavern of her mouth. 

"Ooooooooooh," he groaned, bending his head and staring down at his friend's 
girl friend's passion-contorted face. 

The sight of his sensitive cock-shaft sunk halfway between her greedily 
sucking lips increased the sensation a thousand-fold for Tom. It seemed she 
was making all her movements deliberately provocative for him, bobbing and 
rotating her head in a lewd imitation of fucking. 

The tall, dark-haired young man's long penis glistened like the wet limb of 
a sapling as it began to move in and out between the soft fullness of her 
encompassing lips. She massaged the velvety resilient skin of his testicles 
with one hand, then moved the other hand down along his abdomen and stroked 
the rock-hard base of his shaft between thumb and forefinger as she began to 
suck rhythmically up and down on his saliva-coated rod of flesh. 

"Go on, go on," her boy friend's partner moaned at the softness of her 
tongue twirling with an obscene moist pressure around his naked cock-head at 
the apex of withdrawal, her tongue-tip dancing crazily across the tiny 
opening at the end. 

He flexed his lean buttocks as he stood in front of the piano bench, his 
head still bent, his black hair falling loosely across his forehead. His 
smoldering eyes hazed over as he watched the top of Christina's blonde head 
bobbing salaciously up and down below. The exciting vision of her mouth 
encasing his wildly hammering penis was almost painful in its lewdness. 

Christina could feel the throbbing reaction in his loins and began to suck a 
little harder, the tip of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting 
pole of flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped blood from 
beneath the skin's surface. She shifted her position, without disengaging 
her wetly rounded mouth from his erect blood-engorged penis and sat farther 
up on the edge of the piano bench between his obscenely opened legs. 

Reaching under his drum-tight testicles, she cupped the cheeks of his 
buttocks in her palms through the blue denim of his jeans, pulling his 
jerking loins up tighter to her face. Her tongue swiped around the warm 
bulbous head furiously until Tom made a grinding noise with his teeth. She 
knew he was near to bursting, as she took almost all of his rigid shaft deep 
in her throat. 

She continued the maddening sucking on and on, pausing at long intervals to 
take a gasping mouthful of breath and then starting all over again, working 
over his young excited body like a contented calf sucking on its mother's 
teat. Tiny rivulets of sweat were rolling down between her half-naked 
breasts as he bucked wildly towards her, getting ready to spurt his white 
hot cum down her gluttonously sucking throat. 

"Jesus Christ!" he gasped into the quiet, sun-shot living room. 

The muscles on his stomach tightened until he thought they would snap from 
the pressure as he arched his back forward over her, pushing even farther 
between the hot clasping moistness of the pretty blonde girl's lips. He 
groaned over and over again, his mouth working crazily and incoherent 
mutterings spitting from between his tightly clenched teeth. 

The moment was here and a low, guttural sound started from somewhere deep in 
his chest. Christina was caressing his sperm-swollen testicles with one 
hand, urging the impatient cum to make its mad dash from the churning 
reservoir of his swollen balls and then, he felt the first eager spewings in 
hot thin streams exploding into her hungrily suctioning mouth. 

"Yeeeeeeeeeeow," he shouted, the tendons of his thighs stretching like a 
prisoner's drawn tight on a rack. 

The pretty young blonde's cheeks expanded and hollowed fish-like as she 
greedily swallowed the warm flooding torrents to keep from choking. She went 
on sucking wildly as he emptied his fresh hot sperm deep into the wetness of 
her mouth. His feverish hands tangled in her blonde hair, holding her head 
to the hot eruption of his loins as he rammed his madly jerking penis all 
the way down to her tonsils. 

"Aaaaaargh," his friend's girl friend coughed, swallowing to regain her 
breath. 

Tom moaned his last and then, falling against the piano keys with a 
discordant clash, he sank slowly down to the floor at Chris' feet. Grunting 
in complete fulfillment, Tom basked in the delicious aftermath of sexual 
satisfaction for several minutes. 

"I guess we shouldn't have done that," he said finally. 

"No, we shouldn't have," Chris said guiltily and he was disappointed that 
she'd agreed with him. 

"You were good," he said. 

"You were too, Tom," she said, watching him zip back up his jeans after a 
long silence. 

"You were both just GODDAMN TERRIFIC," Scarboro's voice boomed from the 
dining room entry. In three long strides he crossed the living room and 
jerked at the window curtains so hard they tore from the rods. "You could at 
least have closed the fucking drapes!" 

Tom Hill jumped up from the floor as if it'd been electrically charged. The 
songwriter was coming in their direction and he swerved across the carpet 
until he realized his partner was heading not for him, but Christina. 

"Get into the fucking bedroom," Scarboro bellowed. He was already taking off 
his belt, doubling it and swishing it through the air with Christina running 
like a wild colt ahead of him. Hill watched wide-eyed as the older man 
chased the young blonde down the hallway, then the bedroom door closed with 
a loud thud behind them. 

When the cries from the bedroom became too much for him, Tom put on the 
stereo; then, when they turned into lewd sexual gasps and pleas, he switched 
the music up even louder. Finally, when it all became too much for him, he 
disappeared into his own quarters and fixed himself up, sure for once that 
the rest of the world was worse off than he was. When he came down two hours 
later, they were still at it and he packed his bags. 

Tom Hill was gone for three days. Chris and Ken anxiously sent telegrams to 
every place he might have gone to, even to his psychiatrist father in West 
Virginia. Then, when they were assuring themselves he was all right and 
would show up, he did show up. He'd been to Mexico. 

Christina fixed a hurried dinner. They sat around the kitchen table and 
talked long into the night, with Christina listening curiously to Tom's 
stories about Mexico. Then she and Ken went to bed. She could hear Tom 
recording himself singing and playing his guitar, as he had a habit of doing 
on the tape recorder in the living room. He was doing a song he'd picked up 
in New Orleans. 

"Well, I went down Vine Street, turned down Main, 

Looking for the gal that sells cocaine ... " 

Then she fell asleep. 

In the living room, Tom played back the tape and didn't like it, turned off 
the machine and went to his room, glad to be back in his own bed. The next 
day they had a meeting with their lawyer and afterwards, the lawyer and the 
three of them went out to dinner. The next day he and Chris swam in the pool 
and then it was December and everything was the same as it always was. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

In February the rain set in, but Ken and Tom hardly noticed it. They were 
completing a movie score that had to be finished before the fifteenth of the 
month and every day they got up at ten and worked till early the next 
morning. The two songwriters existed mainly on coffee and cigarettes; sheet 
music was spread between recording equipment, Tom's guitar-amp and the 
piano. From time to time, Chris popped her head in the french doors from the 
canopied back patio, only to be greeted with weird stares and grunts from 
Tom and Ken. 

After several days' seclusion, the two songwriters emerged from the 
sanctuary of the living room with a heavy growth of beard on each of them. 
That evening they were just celebrating over champagne when Ken received a 
call from his lawyer saying he'd heard over the grapevine that Jack Maregan 
was out for Ken. Scarboro came back to the living room, with a crestfallen 
look, to admit how Maregan had seen him coming out of Micki's hotel room 
last fall in New Orleans. Now that the wealthy producer and his young wife 
were coming back from Europe, Maregan had decided to get very upset about 
it. 

With a woebegone look, Ken brought out a bottle of whiskey and the three 
drank more seriously. Tom suggested Ken invite two close business associates 
of Maregan's over to dinner so Maregan would hear how settled and homebound 
Ken now was. Then someone, Chris could never remember who it was, was 
talking about her going to bed with two men, a producer and a lawyer, 
because that would really cinch things. Ken hadn't liked the idea ... and 
then he was liking the idea, was even exuberant about what a turn-on it 
would be and somewhere along the line Chris had agreed to go through with 
it. 

That was all Chris remembered when she woke in the morning with a groan, her 
body aching and perspiration-covered as though she'd been worrying all night 
while she was sleeping. She'd agreed to it ... that seemed impossible now. 
Her body began trembling from sheer nervous tension. Pulling herself from 
the bed, she looked sorrowfully at Ken sleeping peacefully. Still, she 
couldn't ... she wouldn't do it. 

Chris got up and took a bath, mentally preparing herself for everyone's 
disappointment. Dressed now, she sat down on the edge of the bed and waited 
for Ken to wake up. He came to with a grin ... after one look at his 
relieved face, she knew she couldn't fail him and Tom knowing they were 
counting on her. Oh well, she turned away as he dragged himself out of bed, 
all across the country people are having orgies ... even swapping wives ... 
like Ken said, everybody's doing it ... why not me? 

Scarboro had to spend the day at the recording studio in Burbank, only 
calling to say everything was on for that night. It rained briefly that 
afternoon and the sun came out for an hour or so and then it rained again. 
The sun was blushing through the clouds once more when Chris finally heard 
some cars pull into the palmetto-lined driveway in front of the house. She 
wished Tom hadn't taken off. Still, in spite of her uneasiness, she couldn't 
help feel a tingle of anticipation race through her young loins when she saw 
three men coming up the front walk. She checked her appearance in the hall 
mirror - she was wearing a blue vinyl micro-miniskirt and see-through blouse 
and brassiere - then met them at the door. 

To her surprise, Chris liked Ernie and Kevin well enough. The producer, 
Ernie Wilcox, was a little short and stocky and very bald. He was wearing an 
expensive-looking jacket and a broad smile and his eyes glinted when he 
laughed, which he did quite a lot. Both men appeared to be in their fifties. 
Kevin Taylor, the tall, silver-haired lawyer, drank too much Scotch after 
dinner and kept nudging up close against Chris where they sat on the end of 
the chaise overlooking the pool, enjoying the unusually warm night. It was 
late and quiet; Ken hadn't put the outdoor lights on and she could barely 
make out her boy friend and the bald producer, Ernie, where they sat in two 
lawn chairs across from her and Kevin. 

"You're a damned good-looking girl, Chris," Ernie's voice cut through the 
darkness. 

"Why, thank you," she eased farther away from Kevin and stretched out her 
long shapely legs in front of him on the stone patio. Her alcohol-hazed eyes 
flicked over the swimming pool water, silvery-blue in the moonlight, then 
Ken and Ernie were moving their chairs closer, making scraping sounds 
against the patio. 

"You could go places with a body like yours." Ernie was half-joking, 
half-serious. 

"What a line," Chris laughed. She was surprised to find her vision fogged 
even now that her boy friend and the jovial older man had moved into viewing 
range. She was drinking too much again, she thought ... 

"No, I'm serious," Ernie went on. "You ever get tired of Scarboro over here 
... you want some movie work, you know the guy to ask." 

"I'll think about it," she said. 

"No, forget that," he changed his mind. "I'm interested whether you got Ken 
or not. You come by, we'll do some film on you. Matter of fact, I think I 
could use you in a guest spot on a TV series ... It'd be about April." 

"I'll come around then," Chris promised coolly, sensing it was better not to 
appear too eager. 

It must have been two o'clock in the morning. No one was even asking for 
another drink. They'd had a great evening, but now it was time for the party 
to break up ... or to move on to something more exciting, Christina thought 
nervously and sipped her drink. 

"Tell me, Chris," Ernie laughed, "do you ever go for other guys or does Ken 
here monopolize all your time?" 

Chris waited for Ken to say something, but he didn't so she finally spoke 
up. "I do what I want to." 

"You think you could handle the likes of me and Kevin?" 

"I suppose so," Chris gulped. The question would have come up anyway, she 
realized now, but the incredible part was she was answering affirmatively! 

"How about you, Ken?" Ernie turned to the songwriter. "You mind me and Kevin 
messing around on your turf?" 

"Nah ... no hangups," Scarboro said. 

"See that, Kevin?" Ernie said to the silver-haired lawyer. 

"Uh-huh," Kevin appeared to be closed-mouth about everything. She guessed 
this sort of thing went on a lot in the Hollywood community. She'd heard of 
sex parties, had read about them in the magazines and had even attended one 
in New Orleans. But actually having one at her own house and being the only 
woman on hand, was a whole other thing. She suddenly felt a mixture of lewd 
curiosity about what it would be like and a strange dread that the party 
might get unmanageable. 

"You like taking off your clothes in front of strange men?" Ernie's voice 
broke the momentary quiet. 

"I don't know. I never did it before." 

"Girls say they always get a weird kick out of it. Sort of like going on 
stage for the first time," Ernie laughed. "Butterflies in their stomach, the 
whole thing." 

"I wouldn't know," Chris's voice was tremulous. 

"Well, here's to us having a ball," Ernie toasted and downed his drink. 
"Chris, take off your clothes ... ladies first." 

"Don't you think we should move inside?" Kevin spoke up from behind her for 
the first time in a long while. 

"Now, our neighbors are even crazier than we are," Ken grinned. 

At first, Chris's hands trembled slightly as she began slowly unbuttoning 
her see-through blouse. It had happened so quickly, before she'd hardly 
gotten to know the two men and now here she was, undoing the front of her 
blouse and dropping the gauzy fabric onto the patio table. Then she regained 
some of her poise. A night chill raced over her almost naked upper body as 
she stood up with her lushly formed young breasts swelling voluptuously out 
from her skimpy white brassiere. 

"Now the skirt," Ken said enthusiastically. 

Quickly, Chris unzipped the micro-skirt and slipped it down her legs. The 
awareness that three men were watching her disrobing sent an involuntary 
thrill through her. More modestly, she turned her back to them and bent over 
to pick up her skirt from the stone-floored patio, sensing their burning 
glances as the firmly rounded moons of her buttocks came into full view. Her 
white bikini panties slipped teasingly down into the narrow crevice of her 
ass-cheeks from the pressure of the position and remained indented in the 
hollow as she stiffly straightened up again to place the dress zombie-like 
on a white, wrought iron patio chair. 

Behind her, she heard Kevin Taylor's breath quickening in harmony with 
Ernie's and Ken's and she felt strangely excited by their anxiousness to see 
her completely naked. The alluring young blonde turned, feeling totally 
ashamed and vulnerable and yet sort of liking the feeling with some tiny 
part of her deep down inside. Reaching hesitantly behind her, she unsnapped 
her brassiere and exposed the pink-nippled peaks of her breasts to their 
avid gaze, suddenly feeling more excited than she'd been in a long time. She 
could almost see her innate modesty and reluctance slipping away from her as 
the cool outdoor air washed over her and her nipples rose up in defensive 
hardness. 

The songwriter's girl friend turned back to see a lewd grin spread over her 
boy friend's mouth. Ken leaned back gloating in his chair while each of the 
two other men leaned eagerly towards her. Her eyes swept over the grassy 
backyard and she shivered slightly, realizing that she now wanted this, that 
at some point in the last few minutes she had become strangely aroused! 

With a slow teasing smile backwards over her shoulder, she hooked her thumbs 
into the thin elastic waistband of her panties and rolled the flimsy 
material inch by inch down over her full-fleshed thighs and long tapering 
legs and onto the patio floor to stand in front of them completely naked. An 
involuntary lascivious chill raced through her as their hungry eyes devoured 
her young curvaceous body for a long lewd moment. 

"Hey, let's get out of these damn clothes," Kevin Taylor abruptly jumped up 
from the chaise behind her and began undressing, with Ernie quickly doing 
likewise. Only Ken held back, watching the wild spectacle. Suddenly, he got 
up to bring her another drink, then returned to his chair. 

By the time Chris had rapidly downed most of her drink, the producer and the 
lawyer were standing before her completely undressed. Her eyes raced over 
their virile flesh - Ernie so rugged and mature and Kevin's body lean and 
slightly boyish looking, so different but equally desirable. Their two fully 
erect penises speared out excitedly at her, sensing her like two snakes 
about to strike! Suddenly, she had the feeling she was going to enjoy this 
evening ... more than anything in the world! 

"Why don't you move onto the grass?" Ken laughingly suggested as the two men 
eagerly approached her where she stood by the chaise longue. "That thing 
looks like it's going to be a little crowded." 

Chris finished off her drink and moved the slight distance to the yard, 
feeling the two men following closely behind her. Then the aroused and 
slightly drunken young blonde was dropping onto the grass with Kevin and 
Ernie. She felt the soft grass brush against her girlish buttocks as she 
came to a sitting position between the two men. She looked down, noticing 
both their cocks were rock-hard and ready and straining against her naked 
thighs as the lewd tension in the air increased. Chris could sense the 
excited jerking of their loins against her thighs and a lustful tingling 
throughout her whole body blazed down through her belly and into her 
moistening pussy where it centered with maddening intensity. 

"Reach down and grab our cocks." Ernie's round brown eyes narrowed and her 
hands seemed to move by themselves to do as he had commanded. Then the two 
rods of desire-hardened male flesh lurched out and her hands curled 
automatically around each one, embracing a stiffly pulsating penile shaft in 
each palm. 

She worked the two hardening penises gently between her clasping fingers for 
several minutes, sliding the loose foreskins up and over the blunt bulbous 
heads until droplets of clear lubricant appeared, oozing out of the tiny 
slits in the centers. Oh, this was so obscene! Soon after, Kevin's hand 
moved upward to cup her ripely curving young breasts, dipping his fingers 
into the deep cleavage and massaging slowly over the succulent mounds while 
Ernie, on her other side, pulled her legs wide apart and splayed one hand 
over her nakedly seeping pussy. 

"Ooooooohhh, that feels so goooooood," Chris gasped. She felt so high ... so 
good ... so hot! Suddenly, she was riding high on alcohol and sheer obscene 
excitement. 

"Oh!!!" she whimpered in lascivious delight as four lust-inspired hands 
coursed over her nakedly hungering young flesh. The voluptuous blonde girl 
was forced back down on the grass between them, her arms loose at her sides, 
trembling from the wicked sensations running through her unprotected body. 
Kevin's long blood-engorged cock rubbed warmly against the outside of her 
thigh, trailing soft wet drops of premature ejaculate in his excitement and 
increasing her delicious feeling of utter wantonness a thousand-fold. Then 
Ernie's mouth clamped down hard on her lips, his tongue splurging into her 
open mouth. Chris began swaying with the hard pressure of the short, stocky 
man and his companion rocking insistently against her. 

The songwriter's girl friend gave each of their hotly throbbing cocks an 
extra tight little squeeze as her eyes caught on her boy friend watching 
avidly from the patio. He had moved to the edge of the chaise longue, which 
was closer to the yard and he was bent forward in the moonlight with 
voyeuristic excitement. Chris swallowed hard as the two older men's hands 
continued to roam with greater urgency over her softly quivering curves, 
their eyes and bodies straining closer and closer to her cock-rousing 
nakedness with each passing second. Her hands moved more rapidly now over 
the two jerking flesh-rods sliding in and out of her tight-clasping fingers. 

Chris felt a rising tide of passion beginning deep in her gently trembling 
belly. The very wantonness of her spread-eagled position on the grass and 
the impending ravishment of her vulnerable young body sent tiny strange 
ripples of fire dancing through her alcohol-inflamed nerves. Just thinking 
about the two men both fucking her at once out here in the backyard made hot 
shivers of desire pulse through her tingling pussy and rivulets of warm 
cuntal moisture came gushing rapidly down between her legs. 

"You ready now?" Kevin, the lawyer, said hotly. "I can't wait much longer." 

"Well, you go on and do it to her," Ernie cracked. "It just might warm her 
up for some real fucking when I get to her." 

"There's nothing I'd like better," the lean, more reserved lawyer studied 
the young blonde's provocatively curvaceous form spread out before him on 
the grass. He sat down on one side of her body, letting his eyes play 
momentarily over the lushly rounded mounds of her breasts on down to her 
sparse blonde pussy hair nestled between her thighs. He ran one finger 
greedily along Christina's delicately shaped ankle and she responsively drew 
up her leg. 

Kevin was a man in his early fifties, but Chris noticed as he climbed over 
her naked body that he was as fit and muscular as a man of thirty. He edged 
up between her lewdly parted thighs and knelt in between them, his long 
slender cock jutting like a flagpole straight out from his silver-haired 
loins. 

"Oh yes, yes, do it to me!" Chris groaned as he hovered over her in the 
night air. 

"Now don't take all night," Taylor's producer-friend said impatiently. "I'm 
about to shoot my wad just watching you." 

The lawyer's hands circled around Chris's girlishly narrow waist as he 
pivoted himself closer up between her widespread thighs. Chris scissored out 
her long shapely legs in lewd encouragement to him, anxious to get his long 
thick cock thrusting hard into her throbbing pussy. Then she realized he had 
something else in mind! He gripped her flaring hips until he'd wedged 
himself up to an obscene sitting position on her stomach, his pulsating cock 
wagging lewdly just below her passion-swollen breasts and the velvety 
softness of his testicles resting on her belly. 

Chris lifted up her head from the ground, thinking he was going to plunge 
his erect penis into her mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes!" she moaned, her glance 
falling thirstily on the lawyer's cock extending its lust-hardened head just 
below her melon-like breasts. 

"I never fucked a woman between the tits before," a lewd, hungry expression 
flickered over the older man's face in the dim light. 

Chris closed her eyes in momentary confusion as a tiny drop of male 
lubricant seeped from the small slit at the end of his cock. She felt him 
readjust his weight on her belly, shifting his heavy buttocks closer to her 
nakedly heaving breasts. He wasn't going to put it in her mouth, he was 
going to fuck her between her breasts ... God ... she thought drunkenly, it 
was going to be even more obscene and depraved, more thrilling! 

"Oooohh," she moaned as the lawyer placed his hands on the incredible 
softness of her breasts and drew them close together with his eager palms. 
At the same time, he thrust his long white shaft into the deep valley 
between their tantalizing fullness. He cupped his hands harder around the 
sensually soft mounds and pushed them even closer together until only his 
blunt blood-filled cock-head appeared at the top. 

"God, yessss!" the pinioned blonde girl gasped as she watched the massively 
pulsating penis slithering up and down between her breasts, the tiny opening 
at the end winking at her eye-like and straining to reach her chin! 

"Oh, Lord, yes, fuck my breasts!" She could feel the hot shaft of rigid male 
flesh pulsing licentiously against her sensitive young flesh and an 
uncontrolled responsive tingle shot through the trembling mounds. 

"That's it, Taylor, get her good and hot," she heard Ken's excited voice 
from somewhere in the half-darkness. 

The lawyer's hands massaged the smooth succulent roundness of her breasts, 
tweaking the erect little nipples into diamond-chip hardness. He squeezed 
the lewdly stiffening buds between his thumbs and forefingers and a warm 
throbbing sensation raced through her quivering belly and down into her 
cock-hungry loins. 

"Oh yes, do that to me!" she encouraged, beginning to strain with the new 
sensuality surging through her helpless young body. 

Kevin's long hard maleness stiffened into even greater hardness when he felt 
her begin to writhe beneath him on the lawn. Her lewdly uplifting movements 
enveloped the lawyer's blood-engorged penis deeper up between her 
voluptuously formed breasts. He thrust it feverishly back and forth, 
increasing the speed of his strokes with each one, his mind reeling with 
overpowering excitement. Nothing else mattered but sinking his lust-knotted 
hardness up between the warm enclosing mounds ... he didn't hear Ernie's or 
Ken's voices urging him on, nor was he aware of his own animalistic groans 
of pleasure, as he kneaded the lust-inspiring softness of her breasts with 
hands he no longer controlled. 

"Shit," he sighed, looking down to see in the moonlight the way the tight 
wedges of flesh protruded in white bloodlesss ridges between his 
wide-splayed fingers. His head dropped to one berry-like nipple and he began 
sucking hungrily on it. 

Chris gasped, feeling the warmth of his breath flowing over her straining 
chest and arms. His hands forced her breasts tight over his insanely 
throbbing cock until it had completely disappeared in between! 

"Shit, I've never seen anyone get it between the tits like that," Ernie 
Wilcox's voice rasped disbelievingly beside them. "I'm not waiting any 
longer." 

Quickly the producer slipped down into the grass and lay aslant her body so 
that his loins hovered intimately beside her face. He reached toward her 
immediately and clamping his hands firmly on the sides of her head, twisted 
his fingers in her long disheveled blonde hair. She sensed his excitement, 
his almost overwhelming lust and it made her rock her body that much harder 
under Kevin fucking between her breasts. 

Oh God, this is wild, she thought. The two men were doing things to her that 
she'd never dreamed of ... obscene things she'd never heard of happening to 
any woman ... much less herself! 

Her thoughts were cut off with the heels of his hands digging into her 
cheeks. He pulled her face downward until her lips brushed over the blunt 
bulbous head of his cock standing out in full blood-hardened erection 
between his legs so near. It felt smooth and hot and was slippery from the 
excited secretions of his loins. 

"Yessssss, let me suck your cock," she gasped. "Suck your cock while Kevin 
fucks ... my breasts!" 

Ernie's hotly pounding cock, sliding up into the warm suction created by the 
young blonde's firmly clasping mouth, made a lewd wet sound as it entered. 
Moving her head sideways, Chris lowered her mouth down on the rigid rod of 
male flesh all the way until the bald-headed man could see nothing but a 
small white bit at the base protruding from her stretched pink lips 
surrounding it. Chris began a slow back and forth movement with her cheeks 
convulsing and expanding as she worked her way far up Ernie's cock until 
just the tip of his stone-hard penis was left inside her warmly enclosing 
mouth. Then, with a loud sucking noise each time she made a movement, she 
moved her face back down on him, impaling her mouth completely with each 
long smooth stroke. 

It was all too much for the lawyer. Above her, Kevin's slow rocking motions 
built quickly into a lewd crescendo of crazy fucking. Chris began rocking 
her hips back and forth, almost uncontrollably in time to the lawyer's 
wildly skewering movements between her breasts. Beneath the twisting weight 
of his hips, she could feel his sperm-filled balls slapping harshly against 
the smooth flat plain of her stomach. He fucked into the long hollow between 
the lush moon-like mounds faster, faster, faster. Sweat poured down his arms 
into his tightly clasping palms, moistening the deep valley, between her 
breasts ... and then ... then, she felt him stiffen convulsively above her. 

"Christ, I'm going to cum between her tits!" Kevin gasped. 

The lawyer's crazily jerking cock shot its white-hot streams in violent 
spurts up through the full heaving mounds of Chris's breasts like a geyser 
exploding between two soft hillocks. The wild gusts of pent-up sperm 
splashed obscenely on her chin and rivuleted in oozing white pools on her 
straining neck and Adam's apple, flowing over her shoulders and down onto 
the grass. 

Chris felt cold air rush over her as the satiated lawyer pulled himself off 
her body and staggered nakedly back to the patio for a badly needed drink 
and she sucked more avidly on Ernie's penis still thrusting hard into her 
mouth. Jesus, she hoped the lawyer would soon get hard again! WASN'T ANYBODY 
GOING TO FUCK HER? Then, abruptly, she knew it wasn't over yet as another 
body moved across the backyard. Ken Scarboro stripped quickly and crawled up 
between her outstretched legs and then she felt his strong hands pushing her 
thighs farther apart. 

"Wonderful," she mumbled drunkenly around Ernie's cock skewering deep into 
her clasping mouth. "Fuck me while I suck Ernie's cock. Both of you at once! 
Oh, so exciting ... make me cum!" 

"I will baby. I will!" Ken said, positioning his hotly pulsating cock's head 
hard up against her tight little pussy hole. 

The songwriter rammed his long thick cock right up to his pelvis with a 
body-jolting thrust. Chris groaned in wild sexual delirium as she felt its 
fulfilling hardness deep in her stomach. Then he began to fuck into her with 
a deliberately slow rhythm that whipped the ever-growing flames of 
insatiable desire into a raging inferno of lust. Every plunging thrust, 
rippling like steel through her rapturously clinging vaginal walls, brought 
her closer and closer to a new and higher peak of ecstatic pleasure which 
she had never experienced before. 

"Suck," Wilcox groaned above her. Impulsively, the young blonde reached up 
between the producer's hairy legs and gently squeezed his sperm-laden balls 
as he sank his saliva-glistening cock down the back of her willing throat. 
Sweat poured down his face as he strained to see between the nakedly 
writhing, wildly fucking bodies of the songwriter and his young blonde girl 
friend. The tightly clasping lips of her pussy clutched like a strong fist 
at the thick fleshy shaft that was pistoning in and out of her pink vagina 
opening in slow, urgent motions. He could see the rigid, shining penis pull 
nearly out of her hair-rimmed opening, then disappear again between the 
moist pink walls as Ken rammed his pile-driving cock into her tight little 
cunt again and again. 

Suddenly, Chris knew she was going to explode into orgasm. It was there, 
just around the corner, still teasing, forever tantalizing her! 

Immeasurable ecstasy began to flood through her tautly rippling belly and 
thighs. She began to fuck in unison with the two men in uninhibited 
gyrations, her shamelessly aroused body and mind all centering in now on the 
fantastic churning sensations deep in her lust-heated loins. God ... she had 
never felt this turned on in her life! 

Then she realized Ken's suddenly swelling cock up inside her cunt was about 
to explode, too. The thought excited her to a fever pitch of desire and her 
hips rolled and undulated like they were floating in warm liquid oil. 
Scarboro slammed it home deep up into her wetly quivering pussy with insane, 
almost brutal force. Harder and deeper he lunged, making his cock churn 
lewdly from side to side in the saddle of her legs. 

"Aaaaaaaagggggsh!!!" she began to cum ... and cum again. "Oh God, I'm 
cumming. Fuck me! Both of you! OH GOD! Fuck me! FUUUCCCCKKK MEEEEEE!" 

Ken buried his madly jerking penis as deep into the wet velvety heat of her 
tight little cunt as he could and felt his cock expanding to even greater 
dimensions. After watching the lewd spectacle of his girl friend with the 
two men, he had held back as long as he could. Now he gave one last, 
pounding thrust that sank his cock right in up to his pelvis, wet and matted 
with the juices that nearly gushed from her madly convulsing pussy. And the 
flood of his sperm - held back so painfully long - exploded in a steaming 
burst that filled her belly with his warm load of jism. Over and over - a 
dozen times or more - his rapidly deflating cock fired its white-hot cum 
into her greedy womb before collapsing into a useless, rubbery rope of 
flesh. 

Chris's face fell forward on Ernie's thigh. At some point, she couldn't 
remember during her conscious-shattering orgasm, his stiffly thrusting penis 
had slipped from her sucking mouth. 

"Oh, it was all so wonderful, so fantastic!" Chris gasped as the two men 
pulled from her sperm-drenched body, leaving her panting and heaving in 
blissful satiation on the sperm-coated grass. God, she would never had 
imagined herself doing such a thing! But she had ... and she had loved it! 

They dressed and moved back into the house, all of them foggy and 
slow-moving from so much sex and drink, walking as if they were drugged. Ken 
fixed two more rounds of drinks and finally, as the sky outside was turning 
a light gray, Chris watched their visitors' two automobiles pulling out the 
driveway, each of them leaving in separate cars. Ernie and Kevin both waved 
good-bye after they had maneuvered their large cars out into the suburban 
street, then Chris turned to her boy friend standing beside her in the 
doorway. 

"Well, we got through that one, didn't we?" she said. 

"Got through with it?" he turned back into the living room. "You seemed to 
be loving every minute of it!" 

"Well, you weren't exactly disapproving ... that I recall." 

"Yeah, I admit it. I liked watching you," he grinned suddenly. "It turned me 
on." 

They turned into the bedroom and plopped, fully dressed, on the king-size 
bed. Chris reached behind and unzipped her skirt, too exhausted to even 
stand up to undress. It was six o'clock in the morning and right then she 
felt like she could sleep through the next day, Saturday. 

"Look," Ken rolled over on his side and propped his head on his elbow, 
staring at her till she turned to look at him. "We might want to do 
something like this again. So ... let's make a deal right now! ... When 
we're together, anything goes, but when we're separated no sex for either of 
us. Okay?" 

"Yeah ... why not?" Chris smiled after a short pause. 

Chris slept all day Saturday and when she awoke early Sunday morning, the 
evening with the producer and the lawyer seemed like something crazy she had 
dreamed and very distant in the past. She and Ken drove over to visit some 
friends who lived in the canyon. Then Monday Tom was back. After they'd 
rehashed that night with Tom, no one talked anymore about it. In the next 
few weeks, she only thought about the lewd experience once or twice and the 
same went for the agreement with Ken. It didn't seem to have anything to do 
with their lives - they were never parted and no more lawyers or producers 
presented themselves. 

One day, when it had just turned March, Chris had an idea. It was a rainy 
afternoon, following two days of drizzle and she was feeling bored and 
impatient with everything being normal. She dragged Ken out of the living 
room where he had been working with Tom and said through his irritation, 
then to his surprise, "Ken, why don't you take me to the Mardi Gras in New 
Orleans? Everybody who is anybody is going. I want to go back to the 
Carson's house and watch those people doing lewd things. I want to be up 
there on the mattress ... like that blonde girl! Remember?" 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Tom went with them. The three watched the Mardi Gras parade from a local 
television executive's office on St. Charles Street, before moving on to the 
party at the Carson's house. The Mardi Gras seemed to have hit New Orleans 
like a wild, drunken storm. Down below, the sidewalks were jammed and the 
costumed figures marching ankle-deep in confetti and beer cans. In the cab 
over to the Carson's, Chris could see the activity spreading out from the 
French Quarter as they passed by the Irish Channel and the black 
neighborhood where St. Charles Street turned onto St. Charles Avenue. 

The taxi pulled up in front of the wealthy oilman's home. To Chris, it 
seemed even larger than before - its Greek facade set back amidst tall oaks 
and hanging moss. To Chris' surprise, the cowboy actor Jason Crawford was 
there also. This time, he didn't meet her at the door, but they ran into him 
standing at the bar with an attractive redhead. They'd had several drinks at 
the bar when Ken inched Tom and Chris through the crowd to introduce them to 
Frank Carson, their wealthy oilman-host. Carson was almost as big as the 
cowboy star. He claimed he was a Cajun - of French descent and from the 
bayou area - but he looked, to Chris, more like a Texan. His wife Jeanie was 
a petite brunette and Chris was somewhat startled by the discrepancy in 
their sizes. 

"How long you three had this little menage a trois?" Carson joked. 

"You got to talk English to me," Ken said. 

"Your little threesome," the oilman translated, giving them a lewd look. 

Ken appeared suddenly angry and Tom blushed. 

"We're not anything like that," Chris said. "We just happen to live 
together." 

"Well, I don't really understand it, but everyone has a right to do his own 
thing, I always say," Frank Carson wrapped his arm around Chris as the group 
- minus Tom who abruptly excused himself - moved down to the basement. 

Now, it seemed hours had passed since they'd first descended the stairs into 
the luridly illuminated room. It was almost as though time had slipped a 
gear and Chris was suddenly naked, standing on the center mattress, peering 
out into the audience, trying to figure out where Ken had gone. He had given 
her a drink and mysteriously disappeared just before they had undressed her 
and then led her into the full glare of the spotlight. It was so bright that 
she could only hear voices and for all she knew, Ken had moved to a closer 
viewing position right at her feet. She felt as if she were on a stage ... 
well, she was on a stage, she realized, as she felt eyes focused on her 
helplessly naked body; she could feel the audience, hear their voices and 
sense their lascivious mood building as she stood there totally defenseless 
and virginal-looking. 

Where was Ken? she wondered panic-stricken. Maybe he could tell her why she 
was standing out there, why she was doing such a weird thing. 

"Is that all she's going to do?" a voice asked from the darkness. 

Several others laughed. "She's new," a woman's voice answered. 

"Yeah, give her a chance." 

"For Chrissakes, let's have some action!" 

"Grab your tits," another voice commanded. "Hold 'em in your hands." 

Chris stared into the crowd, trying to see where the voice had come from. 
Maybe it was Ken's. At this point she could hardly tell one voice from 
another. Carson had given her something - marijuana, she thought - when she 
had first come downstairs. 

"Touch 'em!" 

Automatically, her hands moved to touch her pert little nipples that were 
hardening in then-naked exposure to the air. The voluptuously set mounds 
quivered sympathetically beneath her fingers and she could feel the blood 
pulsating into her berry-like nipples, throbbing uncontrollably at her own 
touch. 

"Caress them," a woman's voice - it sounded like Carson's wife Jeanie - came 
from her feet. 

Christina was conscious of people sliding all around her, as though 
magnetically drawn to her succulently endowed body. They were idly fondling 
one-another's bodies while they looked up at Chris' youthfully firm breasts 
and watched as she began to squeeze and massage the warm-fleshed mounds. 
They gazed on in silence as the nipples began to stiffen excitedly, smiling 
to themselves, knowing that whatever the shamelessly naked young blonde 
believed, she was beginning to feel a lewd sexual excitement. 

"That's it, go ahead," she heard a man's voice in front of her. 

Chris' fingers trembled as they touched her bud-like nipples and rubbed on 
them, her fingertips brushing over the throbbingly stiff ends. An unholy 
tongue seemed to be licking devilishly at her loins and without a will of 
her own, she moved forward, her hips undulating. 

A flashbulb from a camera exploded from somewhere in the darkness ... 
catching Chris as a smile of uncontrolled pleasure flickered across her lush 
pink lips. Where is Ken? she thought. Then her attention was distracted by a 
figure moving toward her. It was Carson's petite brunette wife and she, too, 
was voluptuously naked. 

"Now you just stand there," Jeanie said. 

Obediently, Chris stood on the mat, looking at the hostess with a confused, 
drug-hazed frown. The brunette knelt down before her and lewdly spreading 
Chris' legs apart, buried her face in the young blonde's invitingly exposed 
pussy flesh. Chris responded with a jolt as the woman began licking her 
passion-moistening cunt, then suddenly stuck her long probing tongue as far 
up the younger girl's responsively grasping little pussy hole as she could 
go. Her hands reached around and cupped Chris' involuntarily rotating 
ass-cheeks as she licked grazingly until - with Chris just on the verge of 
orgasm - the brunette herself began cumming from mental excitement alone, 
jerking and quivering convulsively at Chris' feet, her hands clutching and 
unclutching in spasms on the blonde girl's buttocks. Leaving Chris gasping, 
she staggered back, weaving and saying, "That's enough for now!" 

The young blonde stifled a moan of acute disappointment. It didn't seem fair 
the way the older brunette woman had tongue-loved her pussy ... and then 
just left her hanging. Not after Chris had subjected herself to the 
humiliation of being up there - nakedly performing in front of all these 
hungry-eyed people and it was humiliating, she realized now. Suddenly, Chris 
remembered the night she had watched that other young blonde on this very 
mattress. She recalled the girl being fucked into wildly by one man, then 
sucking on Jason Crawford's monstrously large penis, but never once had she 
seen the girl cumming. They couldn't do that to her ... she wouldn't let 
them. 

She looked up hungrily as an unfamiliar red-haired man approached. He didn't 
say anything, but pushed against her body in a way that she knew meant he 
wanted her on her knees. Then, with Chris in an obscene dog-like position, 
the man climbed onto her sleekly curving buttocks and she felt the bulbously 
thick head of his cock rubbing up and down her secreting vaginal split. He 
began fucking into her tight little cunt at once and Chris' head was thrust 
viciously down into the mattress. 

It was rape, it was brutal and barbaric and Chris was in agonizing pain as 
he continued to fuck into her fearfully clenching pussy ever harder and 
deeper, the head of his penis banging brutally up against her cushiony 
cervix at the end of each long, smooth cock-stroke. Then, almost 
miraculously, Chris went into a kind of overdrive, above and beyond the 
pain. It was almost as if she could remove the pain and enjoy the 
helplessness of her plight. It was exciting to be humiliated and hurt and as 
she felt the feverishly thick cock-head swelling to fitful explosion, her 
own orgasm rolled over her with all the force of a fifty-foot wave. 

They came up to her one after another, men and women and the helpless young 
blonde had to do whatever they wanted. And she did that, did it all 
willingly, sucking and licking and fucking until her trembling young body 
was covered with sweat and slippery cum. One man crawled upside down over 
her and they did "69" and soon she was tossing out her fifth mind-blowing 
orgasm. She was just getting tired when the tall, massively framed oilman 
and host, Frank Carson, stepped into the circle of light and a murmur went 
around the room. Chris had rolled over on her stomach and was looking for 
Ken again, so she didn't notice him until Frank was right on top of her. 

Chris' eyes widened as her glance fell on his obscenely jutting cock. His 
penis was the biggest thing she had ever seen! She couldn't believe it and 
thought, for a fleeting second, it was some kind of silly joke. 

"This one's going up the ass," Carson announced proudly to the crowd, 
grabbing his thickly veined penis and jerking it back and forth as though it 
were a flagpole held in his hand. Then he sank down to the mat and kneeled 
on all fours over the nakedly prone young blonde. 

"What ... what? No!" Chris turned and gasped as the meaning of what he was 
saying struck her with full force. She tried to pull out from under the oil 
man's muscular weight, but that was impossible. It couldn't be true! She had 
tried to please everyone with all the lewd tricks she had learned from Ken, 
but this wasn't right! Good Lord! It was inhuman to have a long thick cock 
ramming into her virginal rectum and she clenched her legs and buttocks 
tightly together in frightened reaction to the thought. 

Through her daze, the trembling former college student felt his fingers 
coursing like insect wings over her back. Then, Carson's strong fingers sank 
into the softly curving flesh of her buttocks and drew apart the milk-white 
ass-cheeks. She tried to keep them clenched together, but wasn't able to as 
he applied the full force of his brute-like strength. Her slender legs fell 
open and she shivered in fear as an invading rush of cool air coursed over 
her nakedly exposed anal crevice. 

"No, please don't do it to me ... not there, no, please?" she pleaded, but 
Carson didn't so much as bother to answer. 

Chris could hear Carson suck in his breath. The tiny puckered ring of her 
anus came into full view and she flexed cringingly at the inner sinews of 
her naked nether passage in a desperate effort to protect the vulnerable 
spot and prevent the cruel penetration she knew was coming. Her whole body 
stiffened in fear as Carson's outstretched middle finger probed gently at 
the rubbery anal ring. Then he plunged his finger paralizingly forward, 
sinking it into her pain-seared rectum with a sharp rasping lunge as far as 
the first knuckle. 

"Aaaaaaaagh!" she groaned. "No, please, no! Stop!" 

But the older man didn't stop there - without giving her a moment to adjust 
to the strange unnatural presence in her rectum he shoved his finger in 
steadily deeper to the second knuckle. Chris closed her eyes to ward off 
pain. His fingernail caught briefly in the soft fleshy lining of her vainly 
resisting passage, increasing the harsh biting pain that enveloped her 
loins. She groaned and slithered forward on her stomach on the mat, making 
another useless effort to escape. 

"Oh, no. Please don't. You're hurting meeeeee!" she choked hoarsely, wishing 
someone would help her. "Frank ... please?" 

But the only response from the lust-driven man was a lewd chuckle. She could 
feel his massive cock rubbing lasciviously against her naked thighs, as his 
brutally grinding finger prepared her virginal anus for a violent fuck. 
Tears of shame and humiliation began to stream down her cheeks. She realized 
Frank Carson hadn't been talking idly. He really was planning to fuck into 
her tight little rectum. The oil man had drugged her and now he was going to 
mercilessly screw her. He was so intensely involved in that effort that her 
protests of pain and unwillingness meant nothing to him. 

"Ooooooooh, please, for God's sakes, nooooooo!" she again tried to wrench 
away from him. With one hand, Carson gave her a spine-shattering shove back 
down to the mat. 

Finally beaten, the sobbing blonde let her buttocks go limp to be used as 
her wealthy host wished. She steeled herself to endure the pain, not knowing 
where she could expect it next. 

"She's got a nice tight ass," Frank announced from behind, digging his 
fingers cruelly into her virginally puckering anus, widening and expanding 
it without mercy. The older man shoved a second finger in alongside the 
first and then both were in the tight narrow passage between her quaking 
buttocks, causing her to jerk painfully forward. 

Suddenly, he pulled the fingers out of her and Chris sighed with momentary 
relief, allowing her tormentor to force her trembling legs wide with his 
knees. She flushed deeply as she imagined the leering expressions on the 
audience's faces while they peered at the naked little rectal opening that 
Frank would cruelly violate in the next few moments. She jerked again at the 
strange feeling when he leaned forward to drop spittle from his lips onto 
her pinkly clutching anus to moisten and lubricate his entry. 

"Up! Get up on your knees," Frank commanded, totally confident of his 
obscene power over her. 

The frightened young blonde complied without hesitation. Moaning, she jerked 
her hips up to a kneeling position, leaving the full white mounds of her 
breasts swaying wantonly beneath her. Her buttocks were thrust high in the 
air, waving in open invitation, while her tightly clenched rectal entrance 
puckered in contrasting fear and helplessness. 

The oil man kneeled behind her, placed his hands on her fearfully jerking 
ass-cheeks and drew them firmly apart. The full blood-hardened length of his 
cock slid searchingly up and down the warm nether crevice, teasing her 
depravedly and then grew and expanded to even greater size from the lewd 
contact. The older man levered himself up on his arms. He pressed slightly 
with his hips for a moment, directing his rock-hard penis straight into the 
tight-gripping little orifice like an inhumanly driving stake! 

"Aaaiiiieeeee," Chris gasped from the first hard pressure between her 
wide-held buttocks. 

It was so huge! She could never take that monstrous cock in her rectum 
without it ripping her belly in half! But before the fearfully trembling 
young woman could jerk away, Carson's hands dug into her shoulders, holding 
them down hard and flat against the mattress. She could feel his muscularly 
rippling thighs pressing closer. The lewd probing of his heatedly searching 
cock into her puckered anus increased. 

A deep soul-shattering moan escaped from her contorted lips at the searing 
pain that shot through her loins as her tightly clenching back passage gave 
away before the unyielding pressure of his cock. "Uuuuuuuugh," she groaned 
as the blood-swollen head popped up inside. 

It was too big ... it was just too much! 

The cruel unnatural intrusion brought great waves of pain vibrating through 
every fiber of her helplessly kneeling body. She groaned in anguish as he 
thrust mercilessly onward, filling her elastically yielding rectum with his 
expanding hardness. Time became meaningless. She focused randomly on little 
dust-motes floating before her eyes, trying to ward off the pain by 
distracting her attention. But it was hopeless. She seemed to be caught in 
an eternity of excruciating agony. Her eyes widened as his pressuring penis 
increased the unearthly torture till she felt the coarse hair of his loins 
smack heavily against her widespread buttocks. The giant rod of male flesh 
was buried to the hilt in her aching rectum! 

And then he began fucking into her obscenely expanded nether passage, 
thrusting up with long hard lunges that threatened to tear her loins into 
tiny shreds. Falling into a relentless driving rhythm, he buffeted her 
helpless body beneath him as though she were a rag doll. The songwriter's 
defenseless young girl friend grunted in pain. She tried to tear herself 
from under him, but her muffled groans and whimpers merely incited him to 
smack his pelvis against her quaking buttocks harder and deeper. 

Chris could feel tiny ridges of her spongy, resilient rectal flesh pulling 
out with the base of Frank's virile cock as it withdrew for another vicious 
lunge inside. "Ken?" she called out, but all she got back for that was 
laughter from the audience. 

Chris sank into a dazed, half-conscious state. The wild evening and the 
marijuana had lulled her senses into a drugged acceptance of what was going 
on. There was nothing, for a moment, except a kind of palpable silence 
inside her head. Time had vanished, to be replaced for an instant with a 
view of a terrifying eternal present. She was vaguely aware of the audience 
murmuring, people doing depraved things to each other as they watched her 
and her voice diminished to a low piteous whine. 

She discovered it didn't hurt when she didn't try to fight the pain which 
was slowly decreasing. And then, as she became certain there would be no 
pain, she actually began to enjoy it. It was a strange, masochistic joy, 
brought on by the very helplessness of her position and the thought of being 
used so animalistically in so obscene a fashion. 

Moving her hips slightly and finding the motion didn't hurt, the obscenely 
skewered young blonde began undulating her buttocks slowly at first and then 
with greater force as she gained confidence, causing a lewd thrill to course 
through her entire kneeling body. She began to move backwards to meet the 
rigid upthrust of Frank's skewering cock plunging into her wide-split rectal 
passage. Her hips and buttocks moved in slow sensuous circles under the 
older man's thrusting loins. 

Suddenly, she reached behind them both, her sharp nails biting like barbed 
hooks into his ass-cheeks, holding him pressed firmly against her wantonly 
undulating buttocks. With each downward thrust of his hips, she pulled with 
all her strength, driving his long sodomizing shaft as far as it would go up 
into her no longer virginal rectum. 

"Oh, God, nothing ... nothing has ever felt so gooooooooood!" she moaned, 
flailing her head to and fro like a madwoman. 

Chris knew she was nearing her climax. She could tell by the lewd, rippling 
sensations intensifying within her desire-tautened little belly. 

And suddenly she was there! 

"Oh, God. Fuck my ass ... FUCK MY ASS!" she screamed, caught up in sudden 
joy, her arms flailing helplessly at her sides. "Fuck me ... fuck me." 

The older man stepped up his wildly pounding rhythm, fucking as hard as he 
could up into her insanely milking anal channel, tunneling faster and faster 
through the warm velvety flesh that rippled against his exploding cock. 
Sweat was pouring off his back as he shoved his long throbbing penis up into 
her anus again - and again - and again! He felt his orgasm nearing and a 
grin flashed over his sweat-streaked face as he felt the first tremors 
within her belly. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" With her little remaining strength, Chris lifted Frank's 
weight on her back and raised her head to scream. "Oh God, I'm cummmmmmming 
... cummmmmming! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I'M CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMING!" 

Carson's arms reached under her tapering waist and held her buttocks 
completely off the ground as he fucked up into her tight convulsing anal 
passage with every ounce of energy he could summon, rocking his loins back 
and forth with a savage motion as he buried his wildly ejaculating penis in 
her rectum. One more deeply plunging lunge ... then another and finally ... 
his white-hot eruption splattered deep up inside her lewdly skewered belly, 
flooding her with its powerfully jetting spurts of sperm. Through a mindless 
haze of pleasure, Chris could feel everything, a hot flood of cum that 
filled her insides to bursting ... and the joy - a rapture which was so 
sweet and powerful that it shorted out all her senses and she felt herself 
falling ... falling ... into a warm oblivion of unconsciousness. 

When she awoke, she was lying on a couch in the corner of the room. She 
moaned. Her ravaged loins felt cut and bleeding. On the mattress, the show 
was still going on with the cowboy actor, Jason Crawford, humping into 
Carson's wife's rhythmically waving buttocks. Chris picked her way through 
the crowded floor until she found her clothes. 

"You're not going?" a nice-looking blond man that Chris had never met before 
smiled as she stood dressing in a corner. 

"Yes, I think I've had enough for now," Chris smiled back as she exited 
through the doorway. 

Christina slipped into a nearby downstairs bathroom and washed. Ken had 
obviously left the downstairs room. Why he had taken off like that, she 
couldn't imagine, but she just had to tell him how free she felt. She had 
done all the wild things there were to do and there was nothing more to be 
experienced! 

Chris didn't have to walk very far along the downstairs hallway to discover 
how wrong she was. She had just left the bathroom and was heading for the 
stairs when she heard voices in a bedroom next to the downstairs playroom. 
There was a loud laugh, only too familiar. Chris's heart actually stopped 
beating as she opened the door and stood looking at the final humiliation: 
Ken, naked, making love with a pretty young redhead. 

The young blonde closed the door and stood there for several minutes before 
she climbed zombie-like up the stairs. She collided with Tom at the top, 
lugging his guitar around by the neck as though he were about to leave. 

"I was just going down there to look for you guys," he said. 

"Well, I'm here," Chris said. "And Ken ... well, Ken is in a bedroom with 
some red-haired woman ... I think he's too much for me." 

Tom shrugged, "I think he's too much for me, too." 

Tom was just calling a taxi when a man came wavering up, drink in hand. He 
offered to drive them into town. One look told Chris he was very drunk, but 
he was friendly ... and insistent. They got in the car but the man, as 
well-meaning as he was, couldn't even get it started so they had to go back 
to the house and call a taxi all over again. 

They took a cab to Jackson Square and following a tip from the driver, 
ambled down into the old French market where the driver said the elite 
society people went for black chicory coffee and doughnuts after the Mardi 
Gras balls. By then it was five o'clock in the morning - all Chris saw were 
a few masked figures tottering around the half-empty tables. Tom took one 
look at the bleary scene and disjointedly commented that back at the house 
the man's car wouldn't start because the key wouldn't fit in the ignition. 
He had just realized it wasn't the man's car in the first place. 

They wandered the two blocks down to the dock. It was an area of warehouses 
and Chris could smell trash burning. Huge freighters were tied to moorings 
with rope coils. Across the muddy, oil-slick water, about a mile away, low 
marsh was barely visible on the other side. 

As they sat down on the dock piling, Chris was thinking how strange it was - 
Tom had been there all along and she had never noticed it! It was also 
peculiar, but nice, how Tom didn't seem the least surprised that she'd ended 
up with him. It was like he'd just assumed that all along. 

"What are you doing?" she said as he began playing his guitar. 

"I'm going to play my guitar ... the sun won't come up without it." 

"Sure," Chris laughed. 

She watched curiously as Tom fiddled with his guitar for a moment, then 
began playing. She watched a banana boat sloshing, like it was breathing in 
the water. The oily water turned gray, then yellow, as the sun came up on 
the eastern horizon. 


THE END
