Little Boy Sandwich
by Linda Hamilton


FOREWORD 

Author Linda Hamilton has attempted to demonstrate in her book, Little Boy 
Sandwich, that the social and moral structure of America is changing much 
more rapidly than many of us realize. Until recently, the class hierarchy in 
this country has been particularly fluid, almost fickle, and replaced by 
distinctions in values and ideas. A class is no longer a ranked group in 
which status may be achieved and whose members have social function 
congruent with their class status. On the contrary, class groupings now 
depend mainly on moral, political and philosophical beliefs. 

Author Hamilton has subtly but forcefully illustrated this American 
phenomenon in the character of Kris Anderson, a young woman trying to cope 
with the dynamics of the moral shifts that now manifest themselves, very 
often destructively, in our present culture. While her methods of coping 
seem dramatically radical, they are not uncommon in contemporary times. 

Fortunately, Kris is sufficiently rational and intelligent to remedy her 
mistakes with positive action and enhance her life in the process. 

We the Publishers believe this book to be prophetic in its treatment of what 
seems to be the violently eroded institution of marriage in the Western 
World. The reader who is familiar with books of the magnitude of Brave New 
World and 1984 will find himself at home, if perhaps uncomfortably so, as he 
follows the fate of Kris Anderson to its turning point. 

Our purpose here is not to depute judgment but to present the intelligent 
reader with certain undeniable facts which are becoming more and more 
decisive in the determination of our future as a society. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

"Now let's take a look at the Eastern coastline and see what you can look 
forward to this weekend, all you sailors and beachcombers! From Cape May to 
Cape Hatteras, clear skies and calm seas with moderate winds and sunshine 
for all my friends who write in about wanting an answer to the question, Can 
I Get A Tan? Yes, indeed, but watch out for jellyfish on Eastern Long 
Island, and I don't mean the Madison Avenue crowd, who are among my most 
loyal fans. You ad and PR people just love the outdoors!" 

The long-legged girl with blonde hair and an enticing bustline paused and 
almost spurted out the lines she was dying to unload into the mike. She 
wanted to lash out at the audience, her "loyal fans", but she couldn't blow 
this little masquerade as it was her only way of making a comfortable 
living. She had long ago managed to stop thinking of her audience as real 
people. They were names on letters and faces in bars that she was obliged to 
pay attention to because it was no good any more to just explain the weather 
to people. The marketing department found out that people didn't care why it 
was going to rain tomorrow. They wanted you to break it to 'em gently and 
wipe their noses after they had their little cry over it. Audience contact! 
Human and personal reporting! The station had gone bananas over the "buddy" 
type of news and weather and Kris Anderson became the girl next door, only 
her husky voice and clinging jumpsuit left a lot to the audience's 
imagination. 

"Now for you fly-boys and gals who will be going up to Connecticut for the 
big air show, the weather should be just about ideal, though there may be 
some light afternoon cloudiness. Not enough to cut down your visibility, so 
have a good time and thanks for inviting me to be your Queen of the Show! If 
any of you out in the audience want to participate, tickets are still 
available at all eleven Murphy's Sports Shops in the New York metropolitan 
area. There will be a special train leaving from Grand Central Station 
Friday night at eight o'clock with dinner, dancing in the club car and 
refreshments until we arrive at the Sports Center. Hotel accommodations, 
food and the train ride back, as well as free entry to all air show 
activities, you can pick up on the show with all the trimmings for one 
special low price for Kris Anderson listeners. Just stop by any Aquarius 
Travel Agency in town and ask about the Kris Anderson Air Show weekend. 
They're open tonight and tomorrow until 9 p.m.-so you've still got plenty of 
time before the weekend! I hope to meet lots of you out there!" 

Kris was almost choking on her words as she read them off the cue cards. 
This was getting to be too much! Would the advertising department stop at 
nothing to sell time! That baloney about Queen of the Show! She'd be damned 
if she was going to ride up to Connecticut on a crowded smoky train full of 
drunken and horny men on their way to rub their hands in engine grease and 
yell whoopee all weekend! She knew she looked sexy on camera and didn't mind 
exploiting her charms in front of the weather map. Even the camera man 
helped by pulling back for long shots that allowed the audience to see 
Florida and Kris's well-turned calves. She had gotten some flak from the 
Women's Lib crowd, but Kris knew what she had to do to stay on top in the 
ruthless competition of New York television. And if that meant talking about 
weather "as it relates to our lives" as the Station Manager liked to put 
it-well, all right. So what if the ad salesman tried to sell time to every 
outdoor event within 500 miles so Kris could tie in the weather to the ad. 
It did make sense and people liked it. They liked a fresh and supple body, 
too. And they appreciated a young girl who didn't act cold and snooty on 
camera. Kris was warm ... but in command. She hadn't allowed herself to be 
humiliated yet, either by the ridiculous lines she had to read or by the 
on-the-air banter with her cohorts Jim Robinson who did sports or Mr. Big 
himself: anchorman Ned Davis. 

Not that it had been easy in the beginning. Off-camera she was always being 
recognized, in the streets or when she shopped. Loads of men stopped her-and 
why shouldn't they? She would have been kept busy with offers even if she 
had been tucked away in a bookkeeping department in the cellar of a 
department store. And here she was being thrown into a million living rooms, 
bars, and God knows where else, every evening in Full Color. And Mr. Big 
hadn't made it any easier when he pulled his fly down and started gyrating 
madly as she was trying to finish up the Snow Report one winter for "all you 
ski bums"-Ned Davis had been off camera, but in front of her. She had kept 
going like a pro and the audience never knew what the dignified anchorman 
had been up to. In retrospect, Kris realized Ned had taken a big chance with 
that gag. She reasoned that he must have thought she could handle it and 
pass the crazy test he had pulled on her. 

But between her on-the-air finesse and the numerous personal appearances she 
made for outdoor weekend events in the New York area, Kris Anderson had made 
a strong showing for herself and the station decided she was worth a long 
term contract. They could always buy her off and replace her if she got 
stale, but this way no other station could steal her away as long as she was 
hot-and that was the name of the game. 

Sometimes she felt like a meteorological tennis ball. The tension in the 
studio, the gushing personality with her public and the station employees 
she needed to like her: the advertising salesmen, the management and the 
technical crew. Any one of them could make her life miserable if they wanted 
to, and she was always walking a tightrope to make sure everybody liked Kris 
Anderson and thought she wasn't too much of a sexpot yet at the same time 
she had to keep up that spicy spirit! In time, she could work herself up to 
network work, maybe on the news side. But for now, she had to keep up this 
crushing pace and keep Kris Anderson on the way up. She couldn't stop, 
because in show business when you stop going up you stop going. Once she hit 
the top she could take it easy and do things more like she wanted to. She'd 
be established then, a household word, and assured of a secure place in the 
industry. 

Nearly every week, just to keep herself up to date, she visited the U.S. 
Weather Bureau down by the Brooklyn Bridge. Breezing down the streets on her 
way there in her open Jaguar convertible, Kris felt more in tune with the 
outdoors than at all the ski lodges and boat shows. She would visit with the 
pros down there, and learn about long-range trends, changing climatic 
patterns and the latest gadgets. But most of all, Kris really loved nature, 
and the talk of it all with these unglamorous experts felt like the 
down-to-earth medicine she needed. Not only was her heart under strain from 
the phoniness of her career, but it also ached in loneliness for a loving 
companion. Beneath the fountain of beauty and mirth, even glamour, was a 
secret sadness. Her flashing smile, the snugly fitted pants and sweater 
outfits were a big fake. At home, she soothed herself with an enormous 
collection of houseplants. Each one was like a true friend. 

A fern, orchids, a rubber tree, geraniums plus a host of others with names 
she couldn't remember. Some needed shade and some needed sun. Some needed a 
lot of water and others barely a drop. She fed them plant foods according to 
their individual needs. Kris Anderson tended over her brood like a dedicated 
earth mother. 

The voluptuous blonde-haired girl wound up the sunrise and sunset spot, said 
goodnight and whirled out a side door off to the left of the stage. As she 
bounced down the stairs, her breasts heaved up and down in her sweater, held 
in only by the flimsy no-bra brassiere she was wearing. Her fashionably 
faded jeans had cost her plenty, but she had to admit they showed off her 
buttocks and legs to advantage. She swam every day at the indoor pool near 
her home before having lunch and going, down to the station, and the laps 
had tightened her torso so that she had the body of a teenager. A few 
stage-hands whistled and clapped as they passed Kris on the stairs, and she 
had to smile and say hi or else they would say she was stuck up. 

They turned to watch as her ass-cheeks jiggled gently down the stairs. She 
walked gracefully with the ease of a cat, and with each step her small waist 
seemed to rotate around her gyrating stems and the long taut muscles of her 
inner thighs bulged. Of course, the station encouraged her to show off her 
extraordinary young torso. The high-fashion jumpsuit she wore clearly 
outlined her shoulders, breasts and perfectly flat stomach. The tiny tips of 
her nipples peaked out the soft cotton. She wore leather boots which 
enhanced the length and called further attention to her trim, athletic legs. 
Her hips, fluid and limber like a cheetah's, swayed as she walked into the 
basement conference room where she had to meet with some prospective 
advertisers. 

Here we go again, and it better not be a really tacky commercial like that 
Air Show train-ride package, Kris told herself as she checked herself out in 
a mirror by the door to the meeting room. She turned the knob of the door 
and turned on a full smile. Two men, the clients she imagined, sat at one 
side of the table, though they looked younger than most of the company men 
whom she had met. Across the table was Pete Walker, one of the reliable 
lechers in the Sales Department with whom she had gone through countless 
attempts to get her into his bed. She knew she could get rid of him forever 
if she just told him what a dumb slob she thought he was, but one enemy in 
the Sales Department was one more than she could afford. Kris hoped the 
young guys would do the talking and spare her the trouble of fending off 
Pete's unsubtle remarks. Pete had said something when he called her to set 
up this meeting that had made her curious, something that let her hope they 
would be a bit more interesting than usual. She figured that if she could 
spend a few minutes talking with Pete, in the beginning, he would feel duly 
impressed and allow her to get to know these two without his interference. 
That would increase her chances to get them as sponsors; once men got to 
know Kris, they were usually putty in her hands. 

"Hi Pete! Good evening, gentlemen! I hope you were able to catch the show in 
here while Pete was chewing your ears off about the merits of the Seven 
O'clock News in general and the Kris Anderson spot in particular!" 

"One spot in Kris Anderson in particular!" It was Pete Walker and from the 
sound of his voice she figured he'd had three too many at lunch, as usual. 
She arranged her face into a look as innocent as possible and pretended not 
to fully grasp Pete's remark. 

"Pete was telling me you are interested in advertising something different 
than what is usually sold in the weather slot. I really would like to 
present as many different kinds of products as possible rather than becoming 
the Swinging Singles Weather Girl for what's left of old Gotham. So maybe we 
can get together on this." 

"Right on!" Pete tossed in, as if on cue, "I've been trying to get together 
with you on something ever since you walked in the front door!" Pete still 
thought he might have a chance with Kris, a thousand-and-one increasingly 
less subtle refusals notwithstanding ... if he could only work his hard cock 
up her sinewy legs and into that hot, tight little cunt! He figured he could 
make up for the lack of sex back home with just one good night a week with 
this young thing! And he knew she didn't give it away easy-what a prize she 
would be! 

"You're going to be on your face, thrown out the back door, if the station 
manager hears how you drink it up and start putting the make on me in front 
of prospective advertisers!" Kris managed it with a smile on her face, and 
only she and Pete knew she wasn't kidding. She hadn't meant to go that far, 
but something inside snapped and she had to give it to Pete hard, for once. 

With that out of the way, Kris was able to start talking to the others and, 
surprisingly, she did find them refreshing. The one closest to her smiled 
easily through his red beard. He had liked the way she handled Pete and Kris 
could sense this. As he spoke and looked unflinchingly into her almost green 
eyes, he was writing on the back of a matchbook cover which he finally 
passed over to her without pausing to interrupt his question. Kris didn't 
have to read the matchbook to know the young, handsome man wanted her. 

It seemed as though men had always wanted her. This one was cute, and she 
felt an eager stirring in her love-starved loins. It had been so long since 
she'd been able to enjoy the sheer thrill of a strong hard penis throbbing 
up inside her cunt. Wildly she thought that if this one just got up and took 
her by the hand and led her, she would go to bed with him, open her smooth 
legs and take him up between her quivering thighs eagerly, and rejoice in 
the feeling of his warmly pulsing cock slowly sliding deep into her belly, 
making her tender vaginal meat ripple ahead of it, tickling thousands of 
nerves with each wonderful thrust. The unbidden thought made her glands 
start to quicken their work, and in seconds the lips of her juicily 
throbbing vagina were filling with new blood, stretching in anticipation. 
Kris clenched her thighs tight and tried not to think about how it would 
feel if he reached out and rubbed his outstretched middle finger over her 
pussy and teased her pleasure button. She had been so long without a man 
that she was sure just a touch would make her come. 

She had an incredibly obscene urge to thrust out her vee-shaped mound toward 
him in invitation. 

And at the same time, she had to keep listening and talking to the sales 
meeting, because, after all, business is business. She would just have to 
control her maddening thoughts. Kris tossed her long blonde tresses to try 
and shake herself back to normal. 

But Kris, even as she mouthed some statistics about the size of her 
audience, was glancing down at what the man had written on the matchbook 
which turned out to be covered with his name, Michael Waters and the name of 
his own company, Waters Nurseries. They had branches all over New York. 
Inside he had printed out a short message. 

"See you in two weeks. A night on the town?" 

Kris found herself nodding acceptance, even with the knowledge of what 
Michael Waters would probably have in mind after "a night on the town". She 
wished she could respond to the note, even as she kept up the sales pitch, 
wished she could level with the man, tell him she would not go to bed with 
him because she was just too afraid of being hurt again, even though she 
longed so deeply for a man. Well, she thought, if he does show up, I can 
tell him then how I am before our little night so he won't have any plans 
for ... after! 

Why do men have to be so cruel? 

Why had Stan, who was so good in the beginning, dumped her and run off with 
that dumb older woman? Well, the "dumb older woman" happened to have a few 
million dollars salted away, and Stan had never liked working for a living 
anyway. Through their brief marriage, it was Kris who had paid the bills 
while the tall handsome Stan demanded the best cuts of meat and fine wine 
and whatever else was outrageously expensive, talking of his future deals he 
would make someday. 

Well, he'd made a deal that would take care of his future pretty well, and 
he was gone now. Kris was almost happier to support her private inside 
garden of plants rather than her ex-husband. She had a successful television 
career, made a name for herself with her personal appearances and 
promotions, and these days never had to worry over which bills to pay each 
month. 

But the experience had wilted the stunning, firm-bodied girl with the 
penetrating eyes and heart-shaped mouth that was ready for love. Desperately 
she sought a job that would fill her time and the sense of empty boredom. An 
only child, she had been raised under the strict control of her mother's 
religious fanaticism. And when she didn't have that to listen to it was her 
teachers at the private school her parents had sent her to, pushing her to 
study and get good grades. Morals and seriousness had been pounded in her 
brain practically from the cradle, and she had never given her body to 
anyone before her husband who had now abandoned her. 

He'd hung around just long enough to give her the idea of how much passion a 
man's hot poker could stir up in her, and then left. Sometimes Kris blamed 
herself and cried bitterly for her first love. 

If she had known how to please him better, tried to understand him better, 
would he have been more resistant to temptation? 

But she surely couldn't have done more for him than her urgently clutching, 
tightly wrapped young cunt did. She was so small there that with all his 
virile strength it took him four or five minutes just to work his way all 
the way up into her sweet strong cave, even though, gasping and whipping 
around on the bed and thrusting her softly tufted mound up to him, she tried 
to help his thick active rod to pierce her tender flesh. She could feel the 
massive bulging head of his fiercely pounding cock pushing her muscular 
cuntal canal ahead of it, rippling, almost splitting her apart, forcing her 
reluctant pussy flesh to open until finally he was buried up in her recesses 
and his heavy sperm-laden balls were grinding into her uplifted ass-cheeks. 
Kris wanted nothing more than to please him, and she held him close, feeling 
the pulsing jackhammer of his cock flexing inside her. It was incredibly 
good when he would hold still for a few minutes and let her painfully 
strained cunt relax before he commenced to start fucking again, slowly this 
time, in and out of her hotly inviting pussy. 

But most of the time, Stan just penetrated her without any appreciation or 
tenderness. 

The first time had really been bad, a dream shattered! 

Kris had known what a penis was. She had seen pictures of them in books, and 
she had felt Stan's pulsing hardness rubbing against the soft swelling of 
her belly and her pubic tuft when they became aroused on dates. But she'd 
never seen one or touched one before her wedding night. The lectures from 
her mother had done a successful job of convincing her that was out of 
bounds, and at the same time had stirred her imagination until the young 
girl had almost died from curiosity just to know what it felt like to have 
one beating up inside her dripping pussy. Some of her friends at school and 
devised ways to tunnel out of the teenage prison they lived in at home, and 
used to meet boyfriends at the movies, or after school, and would tell all 
that had gone on the next day at school and how great it was. 

To Kris, their shrieking stories sounded both disgusting and alluring. She 
vowed that she would never get naked with a man unless she was married to 
him, and she had lived by her code. 

Then, on her wedding night, she found herself wondering why she had ever 
bothered to save herself. 

She found herself being treated like a piece of horsemeat thrown to a pack 
of wolves! 

* * * 

Kris knew Stan had a yearning for beautiful things. If they were walking and 
an impressive Rolls-Royce came down the street he would stiffen like a 
pointing dog and watch it out of sight. He would linger at the window of an 
art gallery gazing at the works displayed and comment appreciatively. And if 
a pretty girl in miniskirt or hot pants passed, he would invariably watch 
her out of sight. While another woman might have been incredibly jealous, 
Kris never was. Stan was hers, and she was blissfully confident she could 
hold him, and secretly she desired a man who knew quality when he saw it. 

Their relationship was simple. She had no family in the area and Stan's 
people were thousands of miles away. The court clerk and bailiff were their 
only witnesses. But the limber, radiant girl had planned carefully for her 
wedding in advance, no matter how simple it might be. Remembering her future 
husband's love of beauty and sensuality, she had secretly bought the most 
enticing nightie she could find. 

It was satin smooth, fringed in white lace, and in two pieces. The top came 
barely to her silken pubic mound, and the bottoms-what little of her they 
covered-were tiny bikini step-ins. The garment was no more concealing than a 
plastic bag, but she was sure Stan would like it, and in her mind it would 
be making up for the many times Kris had put him off and left him frustrated 
during months of their courtship. 

In the ocean-side cottage where they were to spend their honeymoon, she 
gently urged him to do whatever he had to do in the shower first. While she 
heard the water running behind the closed door, Kris tried to make 
everything just right for the event she had waited so long to experience. 
She had been hypnotized by the tales of sexual abandon from her girlfriends 
at school, but the sermons of her mother about "nice girls don't do that" 
had so inhibited her over her adolescent years that she had never even 
masturbated. 

But now she was married. It was different now. It was o.k. to do IT! 

And her body had longed for a man so many times. She wanted a rigid 
pulsating penis in her smooth, young cunt with frightful urgency. And she 
wanted to thrill her new husband, even realizing that, with no experience, 
she would have to be a quick student, learning to respond. Well, she had 
always caught on fast to things in school, so she would just keep up the 
good work! 

Kris found herself turning crimson with embarrassment when her husband came 
from the shower wearing only a towel around his midsection. For prominently 
outlined like a stiff protruding pole was the thick shaft of his penis. Her 
eyes bulged and she heard him chuckle lewdly as he detected the direction of 
her glance. 

"I have a real treat for you, honey," the athletically attractive young man 
said as he reached for the corner of the towel tucked in front of his waist 
which held it in place. "Want a sneak preview, before the show?" 

"Oh, I'd rather wait until the show actually begins!" Kris blurted as she 
sidestepped him and hurried into the bathroom, her face burning: The room 
was moistly warm as she quickly stepped out of her traveling dress and her 
filmy, lace-trimmed brassiere and then bent to slide the matching panties 
down the smoothly formed columns of her long legs. 

The trembling blonde-haired girl rolled her long hair into a bun and pulled 
a shower cap over it, stepped into the tub and quickly let the gushing water 
wash away the perspiration that was a combination of travel and jitters. As 
she lathered up between her legs, she could feel the lips of her vaginal 
pussy filling with blood, dilating, becoming remarkably sensitive. Gently 
washing her aroused vagina with perfumed soap, Kris closed her eyes and 
tried to think of what it would be like, having the rigid length of Stan's 
penis embedded deep up inside her softly responsive body, and her golden 
belly began to quiver with anticipation. She could hardly wait, yet she was 
panic-stricken. At last she stepped out and hurriedly dried herself with a 
huge, soft towel, which she then used to wipe the condensed moisture from 
the full length mirror. She stroked her hair into place and examined the 
reflection of her naked charms. Without false pride, she knew Stan would be 
pleased by the loveliness he would finally see and possess, and she hoped 
he'd be glad she had saved herself for this most sacred of occasions. Her 
facial features had a faintly Scandinavian cast, with high cheekbones. Her 
big sparkling eyes dominated her face, competing for attention with the 
lavish sensuality of finely formed, soft lips which when opened revealed 
perfect white teeth. 

The eagerness she felt hardened the tiny pink nipples in the dark circles of 
her breasts, and to Kris it seemed like the hard melon-like mounds were even 
bigger than usual. Her waist was tiny in comparison, and then her womanly 
flesh swelled gracefully into gently rounded hips and taut, moon-shaped 
buttocks. The mound of her golden tuft was just scarcely able to obscure the 
pulsing lips of her tight young cunt. Her legs were those of a swimmer, 
svelte and firm, the muscles bulging slightly with every movement. Kris 
cupped her succulent young breasts for a moment, thinking how it would be to 
have Stan's fingers softly caressing their buoyant warmth. Would he kiss 
them tenderly while arousing her affectionately for their lovemaking? He'd 
tried many times during their courtship, but Kris had not permitted it. And 
she had kindly but unwaveringly brought an abrupt halt to his endeavors to 
get his pleasure-seeking hand between the soft curves of her legs. 

The beautiful blonde-haired girl knew she must have appeared mercilessly 
cold, but tonight she would show Stan indisputably that the truth was just 
the opposite. She had held him off not because she didn't love and trust 
him, but because she didn't trust herself. She was sure her ripely eager 
body would have betrayed her, that she would have served up her cherished 
virginity and never be able to look squarely at herself in a mirror again. 

But, that was a thing of the past! Now she had the right to do what she had 
long craved to do ... to fuck! With a smile of blissful anticipation, she 
stepped into the sheer panties of her baby-doll nightie, smoothing the light 
fabric over her curvaceous ass-cheeks, and carefully arranged her golden 
locks. Her fingers shook as she opened the door and shyly stepped into the 
bedroom. She advanced two paces and froze. 

"Land of Goshen!" she gasped. 

"Come and get it, tiger!" her new husband said with a wicked leer. 

He had turned down the bed and lay on his back on the white linen, 
spread-eagled, naked. From the dense forest of his dark pubic hair a tall 
tree seemed to be growing! His blood-engorged penis stood straight out, 
beating with his electric desire. The foreskin was drawn downward, exposing 
the conical shaped head on which a tiny pearl of pre-seminal fluid 
shimmered. At the bottom, his scrotal sac was inflated with long-stored 
semen, his testicles looking to the innocent bride like pears! 

How could something as massive as that ever fit into her virginal cavity? 
Kris was gripped with a sudden fear. Then she told herself it had to be 
possible, even if she didn't know how. But Stan would know, and she counted 
on him to lead her to him so that all would be perfect in the end. Wide-eyed 
and trembling, the young bride forced herself to approach the bed. 

Stan grasped her hand and quickly pulled her down so she bounced across his 
well-developed body. He crushed her in his arms, and his hot biting mouth 
fastened itself to her wetly parted lips. She felt the tip of his tongue 
probing between her teeth, curling with her own, and she surrendered to the 
rough approach. This was going faster than she had hoped it would. She 
begged to herself that Stan would take her inexperience into account and 
make very slow love to her this first time, arouse her expertly, and bring 
her to a point of ecstasy that would overcome all of her fears. Yet she 
could understand his urgency ... after all, she had made him wait so long. 

Supported by his strong arms, she moaned her compliance and kissed him back, 
feeling his hand roughly cupping the soft mound of her left breast. She 
gasped as his long fingers pinched and rolled the tender nipple and sent 
flashes of pleasure through her entire straining body. 

"Christ, what a set of jugs!" he muttered against her mouth. Kris knew she 
must be blushing, but told herself there really was no reason to. This was 
her husband and she wanted him to be passionate with her, even if his lust 
made him say crude things. "Gimme some more, baby!" 

Kris felt his lewdly groping hand catch the sheer material of her nightie. 
With one swift grab he ripped it completely apart and her naked mounds were 
crushed against his heaving chest. Her now stiff nipples seemed to be 
blazing with fire, and for a fleeting second she was heartsick. She had 
spent a week's pay on that garment, just to be as beautiful as she could for 
Stan on their first night together, and it had lasted only moments before 
being wantonly torn to shreds. But an instant later, Kris rationalized the 
clumsy act, thinking that the nightie must have given Stan the pleasure she 
had intended it to if it stirred her husband to such a savage deed. 

"Stan!" she called out. "Oh, honey...." 

Then she felt his hand delving down toward her loins, and she knew the tiny 
bottoms were headed for the same fate as the top. She had a sudden urge to 
salvage something! Squirming in his arms, she grabbed ahold of the panties 
and slipped out to them, her silken legs gyrating. Only as they fell to the 
carpet did she realize that for the first time in her life she was stark 
naked in front of a man! 

"Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh!" Kris cried out as she felt his supercharged 
fingers slide unimpeded between her open legs directly to the pulsing lips 
of her virginal pussy. She writhed at the fleshy contact as his mouth came 
down hard on her breast, tongue lashing, lips sucking hungrily. She could 
see it all happening in a long mirror beside the bed, their bodies pressed 
and moving together against each other, his hand hurriedly delving into the 
softness of her cuntal channel. She felt his fingers rubbing her clitoris 
and she found herself responding despite the speed of her imminent 
ravishment. This wasn't anything at all like she'd planned, but she didn't 
want it to stop! Against the quaking of her vulnerable belly she felt the 
hot stiffness of his inflamed male flesh, and she trembled to think that in 
minutes that massive penis would be plundering her virgin cunt! 

"Honey, please! Not so fast!" Kris pleaded. 

"Oh wow! Listen, I've been patient for almost two years," he rejoined, 
staring into her face with what had all the marks of hatred, "I've done all 
the waiting I'm going to!" 

Suddenly the surprised bride found herself pinned underneath her 
passion-driven husband of only a few hours. His hand roughly massaged her 
vagina, and with one knee, he pried her legs wide apart. Then he was between 
her quivering thighs, violently yanking her knees up until they pressed 
cruelly against the tender nipples of her soft, creamy breasts. The innocent 
young blonde groaned, partly in pain, partly in still-mounting passion. Kris 
wanted this ... wanted a man ... she had waited so long, denying her body's 
needs ... but did it have to be so rough? Why not a soft, tender 
introduction to the lovemaking her hungry body was intended for? 

Maybe, she reasoned, she had been wrong. She should have allowed Stan more 
liberties during their courtship; let him kiss and fondle her breasts and 
stroke her secret vaginal flesh ... and maybe she should have been more 
aggressive herself, at least touch his penis with her delicate fingers, even 
work him to a climax; for she sensed how he must be hurting. Yet her firm 
morals had won out. It would be marriage or nothing-and now it was marriage 
and everything! And so quickly! 

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" the girl called out. In the mirror, as she twisted her 
head from side to side in anticipation, she looked incredibly lewd, her legs 
jackknifed apart, her naked buttocks trembling as the burning, fleshy head 
of Stan's pulsing penis began to tease its way up through the soft curly 
hairs that fringed her unblemished cuntal furrow. She could see her wetly 
throbbing pussy opening and closing in excitement. Wrenching her gaze away 
from the lewd spectacle reflected in the opaque glass, she looked down her 
naked body, through the proudly upthrust mounds of her breasts, and all she 
could seem to focus her excited gaze on was his immensely throbbing penis 
teasing at the portals of her most private flesh, and his bulging, semen 
laden balls. She gasped, "Stan! You're so enormous! Please don't hurt me!" 

"Sweetheart, it always hurts a little the first time," he said with a wicked 
grin as he arranged himself in a push-up position over her waiting body. 
"But have no fear-you're just made for fucking! You'll find that out when 
you get a good cunt full of cock! Now, grab my cock and help me get in it 
there!" 

Oh no! the scared bride thought. She wanted to. Really wanted to ... but her 
husband's vulgar words shocked her and turned her cold. She lay under him 
without stirring, tears welling up in her big eyes. Then she heard him 
mutter a curse and felt his hand taking her own, guiding it down to the 
thick-veined shaft of his rubbery rod and closing her nervous fingers around 
its throbbing heat. Clamping her hand around his rock-hard cock, he began to 
move slowly, so she felt the fleshy foreskin rolling back and forth over the 
mushroom-shaped head. She could feel the excited beat of his heart pulsing 
through the rigid spear and sensed Stan would not wait much longer-he would 
impale her savagely if she didn't help him! 

Slowly Kris brought the lust-swollen tip of his cock to the moistly 
quivering lips of her defenseless vagina. She forced herself to move his 
penis up and down her tight, curl-fringed slit, and it seemed to her that 
her cuntal lips were opening wider, wanting to suck his rigid maleness up 
into the untouched depths which lay beyond them. She felt her husband 
pressing downward, and she guided the protruding head of his turgid cock to 
her tight little opening. Despite her fears, she was aroused herself, and 
she stirred under him, arching her back, unconsciously offering her virgin 
body as she spread her legs wider apart. Her loins were on fire in 
anticipation, and her mind was spinning. 

"O.K.," she said softly, forgetting about the lewd scene reflected in the 
mirror, with her legs painfully stretched and her knees flattening the 
upthrust peaks of her breasts, her ass-cheeks spread wide open and shaking 
gently like a bowl of jelly. To her wide eyes, it seemed impossible that she 
could take in the length and thickness of his stone-hard penis, and once 
again she begged, "Do it slowly, honey...." 

On top of her, the lean, muscular man grinned and jerked his hips downward, 
feeling her moistly resisting cunt part before the prodding of his merciless 
cock. With satisfaction he heard her horrified gasp as just a part of his 
bulbous cock-head penetrated up into the tight, hair-lined furrow of her 
pussy. 

And then he felt the obstruction of her maidenhead barring his way. 

DAMN! SHE WAS A VIRGIN AFTER ALL! Kris had not been bull-shitting him after 
all! He'd never been able to completely believe a girl of 
twenty-particularly one with looks and a body like this-could be in that 
condition! Well, damn, it was going to be pure heaven breaking her in! He'd 
give her a fuck she'd never forget! Fill her with so much cock she'd walk 
wobble-kneed for weeks! 

He thrust again, and got nowhere, although he felt her try to push up and 
help him get into her moistly heated cunt. She was hot enough for it ... he 
could tell that by the way her vaginal lips were throbbing up and around the 
head of his cock and her arms were clamped around his shoulders. She wanted 
to be fucked, but getting into her was going to be like getting into the 
vault of-The Chase Manhattan Bank. And already she was crying with the pain. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh ... you're so huge ... How can I ever ... the eagerly 
striving bride sputtered. "There must be something wrong with me, darling 
... It hurts unbearably!" 

"It only lasts for a little bit," he chuckled obscenely. "Now when I move, 
hump up." 

Kris felt like she was being skewered on a thick rod of white-hot iron, but 
she was determined to get the initial pain over with and get to the 
passionate pleasures her less moral girl friends had told her about in 
hushed conversations. They had made it sound so unspeakably good and 
thrilling that one time she had even nearly yielded to her own subterranean 
carnal desires and surrendered her virginity outside the sanction of 
Wedlock. 

But nobody ever told her it would be anything like this! 

Her girl friends had talked about how their pussies rippled and swelled as 
long hard cocks slid easily up into the steaming depths of their cunts, up, 
up and up forever until the wet heavy slap of cum-laden balls hit their 
quivering ass-cheeks! The words they had used had revolted her, but she had 
to confess they also titillated her. Now, with all her efforts, Kris 
couldn't seem to even absorb all the virile fullness of her new husband! 
Fitfully she wondered if something might really be wrong with her body, 
which from all outward appearance was made for furious sex, an infinite well 
of pleasure for herself and her mate. 

If only Stan could take it slow just a little longer, if he could only 
postpone his own pleasure just this first time-after all, he had waited this 
long she would have been able to realize her nuptial dreams! But just the 
sight of her tender nakedness had transformed him into a savage beast of 
prey, turning him into a fiercely merciless animal. 

"Sweetheart, dear ... baby ... please be gentle with me?" she implored him 
again even as she felt his smooth rubbery cock-head pressing forcefully 
against her tightly resisting hymen. Kris prayed that with one lunge he 
would enter her, would end the agony of suspense as her maidenhead was torn 
away and her virgin blood flowed through the wide-stretched goose bump flesh 
of her buttocks to soak the sheet below her sweating body. She strained up 
to the thick shaft of throbbing meat, but nothing seemed to help. His cock 
was just too big! 

"Christ, you're tight!" Stan gasped as his tall trim body hovered above her 
slender charms and her arms pulled him to her tightly. Again and again his 
long rigid cock prodded and explored her, without breaching the threshold, 
until he said, "Say now, Kris, I have just the trick to get us over this 
hurdle. You're worked up enough, that's for sure ... You're hot hottest cunt 
I've ever felt! But I'm as dry as a bone! If I was juicy and moist too, it 
might go in like a dream. How about wetting me up?" 

"Huh?" the girl said in all innocence. Well, she figured, her new husband 
was just so excited, she would have to forgive him, but sometime she'd have 
to ask him not to use words like that in front of her. She just could not 
fathom what he had in mind. Surely he didn't want to release her from his 
intimate embrace and have her go into the bathroom and fetch a glass of 
water and wet his rampant penis! "Gee, Stan, I can't imagine what you...." 
she ventured. 

"I want you to take it in your mouth for a couple of minutes, that's all, 
make it slick. Your mouth is enough to give a statue a hard on!" 

Oh no, Oh no! Kris thought in revulsion. How could he ever even think of 
such a thing-such a disgusting thing-opening her mouth to his male flesh! It 
was filthy! She was so shocked that suddenly all desire flowed out of her. 

"I'll just try and wipe your words out of my mind," she groaned. She 
stirred, her body sinuously undulating beneath him, and she felt the smooth 
knob-like head of his cock pressing through her tender vaginal lips. "Give 
it to me! I don't care how badly it hurts! Just give it!" 

"It appears you need a lot of training, Kris," the frustrated man said with 
a trace of tenseness. "Here goes your first fucking lesson! Try swinging 
those great legs of yours up over my shoulders and curl them around my 
neck!" Taken aback once again by his language, Kris didn't move until her 
husband's hands grasped her ankles and drew them over his ample shoulders. 
In this contorted position, the helpless girl's genitals were completely 
exposed, her flawless ass-cheeks stretched tight as drumheads, her innocent 
cunt-lips drawn open like a second mouth, her back arched like a bow. She 
could feel his cock-head throbbing just inside her stretched pussy-lips-and 
then both of Stan's big hands were pulling her quivering buttocks even 
further apart, completely baring the face of her tender flesh to the 
chilling breeze of the air conditioner. In the mirror, through tear-blurred 
eyes she glanced at herself again, and wondered how she could have ever let 
herself be put in such a humiliating position. Well, it was too late now. 
Stan was hers for life, and it was his right to use her body, which had been 
so eager to be taken only moments before, any way he pleased. 

Could it be like this for all brides? the blonde-haired beauty mused? Or was 
there some defect in her? 

Flexing his back muscles, Stan ruthlessly rammed his pelvis forward, 
fiercely driving his swollen inflamed rod of stiff flesh up into her tightly 
strained pussy without warning. 

"Oooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhhh!" Kris screamed as she felt the 
tender membrane of her maidenhead reluctantly yield to his penetration. It 
felt as if someone had shoved the molten tip of a poker into her most 
sensitive flesh. Her long legs whirled outward in an attempt to free 
themselves, and then locked again tight over his shoulders. With a sudden 
feeling of horror, she noticed Stan was grunting and straining to bury his 
thick rampant cock even deeper up into her ... and her body was resisting! 

"Tightest damned piece of tail I ever screwed," he panted, and began to pump 
back and forth in her tightly clenching flesh, slowly working his rigid male 
organ deeper and deeper up into her reluctantly yielding body that was 
doubled up under him. He could feel the soft curly hairs of her churning 
canal brushing his impaling cock with each driving stroke, and his sensation 
only served to arouse him further. She was doing her best, he knew, but she 
was so damned tight! He knew he must be causing her a great deal of pain, 
but her innocent little cunt was so delicious that he couldn't make himself 
slow down. Instead he screwed and drilled up into the dewy succulent channel 
of her pussy, feeling her legs trembling on his back and the quaking of her 
stomach, and he wondered how he had managed to latch onto a luscious piece 
of ass like this! 

This time, he thought, she wouldn't be worth his trouble, but once he 
stretched her cunt open and could get his prick into her quick, he was 
positive she'd be the best lay this side of paradise! Arching high over her, 
he looked down between their nakedly entwined bodies at the jiggling of her 
firmly formed breasts and then at his own flesh piercing hers, now streaked 
with the virgin blood that seeped down between her twitching buttocks. With 
each partial withdrawal, her coral-hued inner flesh emerged, grasping his 
wetly glistening cock-shaft like a warm rubber glove, only to vanish back up 
into the steaming depths of her passion-swollen cunt-lips as he jammed 
himself up into her clasping young pussy again. She was groaning and he knew 
she must be hurting, but she was still eager for his cock ... her first 
cock! 

Bless my ass, he marveled, she was really burning up for it! 

Now the nipples of her upthrust bouncing tits were sticking out. like pencil 
erasers. Pausing in his unyielding penetration of his new bride, he reached 
down between their bodies, feeling the quivering of her taut belly muscles, 
searching in the soft, curling, sex-dampened hairs around her clasping cunt 
until he found her clitoris. It was hard and erect, like a tiny miniature 
penis, and with closed eyes, Kris moaned and writhed at the contact, seeming 
to try screwing herself even farther up onto his ruthlessly impaling cock. 

Well, if she hadn't been properly worked up before, she sure was now, Stan 
decided. He clutched the trembling half-moons of her lewdly spread 
ass-cheeks firmly and lunged up into her defenseless but welcoming body. 

"Oooooooooooooaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuggggggggg!" his helpless bride cried out in 
mingled pleasure and pain as finally she realized his swollen penis was 
buried to the very hilt up inside her squirming vaginal passage. Her excited 
pussy-lips clutched his massive rod like a sheath, and his heavy, cum-filled 
testicles smacked repeatedly into the wide-open crevice of her churning 
buttocks. Kris gasped. She never imagined anything could feel like this! It 
seemed a solid bar of red-hot steel was sunk in her pliant young body. She 
felt his blood-engorged penis swell even larger as her new husband flexed 
the impaling organ deep up inside her painfully stretched pussy. She felt 
her flesh rippling in response to internal muscles and nerve ends she had no 
idea had existed, and she clung tightly to him, panting and gasping ... 
feeling now a growing delight and wonder at this thing called "fucking". 

Still, though, the pain was present. If only he'd give her a chance to 
adjust. "Sweetheart, hold on ... just a minute ... you're filling me so!" 
Kris' voice was pleading now. 

With a quiet but triumphant laugh, Stan condescendingly held still, feeling 
his bride's flesh slowly rippling around his own rampant manhood as her 
tight little cunt tried to accommodate his pulsating hardness. She began to 
sigh softly, and to move in a gently rocking fashion, and Stan then decided 
to give her a fucking she would never forget! 

Stan knew he was pretty good in the Love Department. He was able to stay 
hard as long as he wished, and get it up whenever he wanted, and there was 
plenty of it. Now, Stan moved with his virgin bride, his long, thick penis 
boring up into her now willing flesh as he took his weight on his knees and 
elbows and his searching fingers masterfully massaged the upthrust melons of 
her softly pliant breasts. As he teased her and stroked in and out of her 
yearning pussy, he could feel the smooth rippling of her cuntal flesh ahead 
of his cock like a tidal wave surging up into her quivering belly. Kris was 
beginning to moan in ecstasy now, screwing herself furiously up the thick 
wet length of his penis, and her cunt was gushing with the heated juices of 
her passion. 

Stan decided that he'd been sort of lousy toward her with his language and 
ripping off her nightie, so he decided she had earned a five-star fuck. He 
set about to give it to her, on a silver platter. 

For an eternity, Kris felt his massive cudgel plunging up into her tender 
but eager young pussy, his warm, experienced hands on her breasts, and then 
sliding down over her sleek body to cup her ass-cheeks and pull her loins up 
hard to his jackhammering spear. It still hurt, but not as much now, and in 
the pain there was a strong bittersweet pleasure that she wanted to go on 
... and on ... and on! 

Gasping, she chanted out her delight in wanton desire. In the mirror she 
could see the glistening length of Stan's penis plunging into the stretched 
little hole up between her widespread legs, hurting but still giving 
pleasure as the pale pink flesh of her ravaged cunt wrapped tightly around 
it. Her own reflection looked wildly obscene to her, yet she was lost in her 
own blissful reverie and just seeing what was being done to her, feeling the 
pleasure and pain and the strong male hands grasping her tender flesh, 
heightened the experience. 

Urgently Kris writhed and met every lunging, flesh-smearing thrust of the 
first penis she'd ever know, whimpering, crying out her desire in inaudible 
words nobody could ever put together and make sense of, unless they had 
known the same euphoric, mindless state she had been transported to. 

And then without warning something like a napalm bomb seemed to explode deep 
inside her quaking pleasure-box. 

Liquid fire raced through her vaginal passage and spilled from her wildly 
quaking cunt lips, soaking her thrashing buttocks and the sheet. 

"Eeeeeeeeeeoooooaaaaaaoooohhhhhh!" she yelled out forcefully, and 
spasmodically her fingernails drew blood from the humping back of her new 
husband as she furiously screwed up to his impaling hardness. "Stan, baby 
... oh, Stan ... STAN!" 

Suddenly her entire body was out of control, muscles twitching, cunt 
burning, her clitoris throbbing; the buds of her nipples almost exploding 
off her dancing breasts. She discovered herself brutally sinking her teeth 
into her husband's hard-formed shoulder and her pussy-lips felt like 
balloons as she cried out her completion. There was no pain now, only 
overpowering, concentrated sensual pleasure. 

Kris finally knew what her girl friends had been talking about. 

Her husband's pounding cock was still deep up in her quivering, sweating 
lithe body, his cock as long and hard as when he had forced the painful 
entry. He slowed his deep fucking down until he was hardly moving in her 
tingling flesh and grinned down at her with his baby blue eyes. 

"Had a good time, sugar?" 

"Why ... why I'm not sure what just happened!" the perspiring blonde bride 
blurted out, surprising even herself. "It was like the Fourth of July and 
Christmas morning! Oh, Stan!" 

"Holy cow! You mean you never got off before! You've never had a cum!" This 
was too much. Every chick knew what it felt like, even if she just worked 
herself off with a vibrator! Jesus, what kind of wife had he ended up with? 
He'd obviously have to put a lot of energy into instructing her. But 
glancing down at her passion-spent body, he thought he could have loads of 
fun as her Professor of Lovemaking. With the proper training, she would 
become a hell of a piece of ass! If he could turn her on to sucking cock, 
and even taking it up the ass, she'd be worth a fortune with the visiting 
executives he had to escort around town while they decided how much computer 
hardware they would buy from his firm. With her in tow, he knew orders would 
soar! With a little special treatment from her his commissions would zoom 
and they'd be rich, in no time! 

Somehow he had to use all his powers of persuasion to pound this into her 
pretty head. And despite her strict upbringing, the girl was magnificent in 
the rack, whether she had any idea of it or not. Kris was a born fucker! 

Together they could go a long way-if she'd only go his way. 

Stan Anderson looked down at her nakedly quivering sleek body and saw the 
first orgasm had swept through her and she was very well satisfied. 

"Tiger, that was just the first pop," he said, commencing his first love 
lecture. "It can go on like that all night." 

Slowly and rhythmically, he began to fuck up into her tightly clasping pussy 
again, his cock still as hard as granite, the bulbous head of his penis 
pushing waves of her tender flesh ahead while the stiff curly hairs of his 
scrotal sack tantalized her puckering, muscular anus. On the bedside table, 
their tiny travel alarm clock ticked away minutes, and then an hour. 

Kris found herself cumming again and again, finally spent with the sheer 
physical exertion and delight. She had never dreamed fucking could be 
anything like this! Her school age girl friends had given her the idea that 
if it lasted just fifteen minutes you were darn lucky! 

She no longer felt real pain, but her inflamed cunt was sore! She had lost 
count of her orgasms, and was drained of strength, her reactions to the 
steady pistoning of the invading ramrod now becoming uncertain, random. She 
had discovered internal muscles which would grab and hold him prisoner in 
the seething depths of her pussy. She flexed them tight and observed Stan's 
obvious pleasure. 

"Down in Georgia, they call what you possess a snapping alligator pussy," 
Stan said, leaning down to kiss her. "And that's the best kind there is! I 
can't take much more of that ... so here I come, Sugar!" 

Savagely he began to fuck her. The room was filled with the wet slapping 
sounds of his thick cock plunging up into the warm liquid well of her cunt 
and the smacking of his sperm-swollen balls on the smooth and lewdly spread 
cheeks of her tightly clinging ass. Kris clung to her new husband and felt 
another surge of fire in her loins. 

And then he was gasping as a river of heated cum poured from his long-denied 
testicles through the ballooning head of his cock and up into the surging 
depths of her steaming vagina, like jets of live lead. He filled her tight 
cuntal passage, and she felt the wild jerking of his cock in her tender 
flesh. And then the gushing of his cum through the hair-lined lips of her 
pussy to stain the bedsheets. Stan tried to move off her but she clamped him 
down to her with her arms and legs, refusing to let him free until finally 
his penis was so soft within her trembling young body that she could no 
longer feel it. 

As he lifted his lean frame from hers, she saw the thin, cob-web strings of 
his cum stretched from the now deflated head of his flaccid penis to trail 
hot and moist over her sweat glistening thighs. 

Finally spent, her mate rolled onto his back, breathing deeply, unevenly. 
Kris did the same. There was a deep throbbing hurt up between her thighs, 
but Stan had at long last-if savagely-given her what she'd needed for so 
long! 

She thought that she would be such a good wife to him that she could curb 
his sometimes-foul tongue ... and reform his ideas about sex. 

Like taking his penis into her mouth ... she knew she could never do that! 

She admitted to herself that she'd heard vague stories about girls who did 
it-it was reported that a few even liked it-but she could never see herself 
in such a position. Why would a man even want her to do something like that? 

It was completely beyond the satiated bride's comprehension as she drifted 
off to blissful sleep, cuddling against her husband, who was already 
snoring. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

One good thing about the Weather Girl job, Kris thought as she moved through 
the crowded streets, was that it kept her so busy it was barely possible for 
her to dwell on her own problems. She had an endless round of personal 
appearances to make, making friends for the sponsors. She responded 
enthusiastically to the challenge and tried to push into the back of her 
mind the negative points, like the executive Romeos and lonely men who were 
constantly accosting her, flirting shamelessly with her during every minute 
they were with her. She had trained herself not to respond to their 
overtures or to feel the quick feels they grabbed in the bars, never to lose 
her famous composure, never to alienate them with a harsh word. There always 
was somebody around to protect her if somebody really got tough. Kris felt 
it was just part of the job that she had created for herself, and she must 
submit to the trials of being a sexy public figure. She had learned to use 
the spike of her high boots to "accidentally" gouge the tender muscles of a 
man's foot with it, leaving him limping for days. 

She joked backstage with some technicians, glancing occasionally at her 
precision watch. Kris Anderson also did commercials for the station that 
were aired at other times during the day, and she had to appear for such a 
video-taping session in a few minutes. Then she would have to be ready to 
demonstrate the product being advertised, and read her lines flawlessly, 
because mistakes were expensive in her business. It meant wasting precious 
studio time and the time of the highly paid studio crew. 

She liked doing the commercials, as they were a welcome relief from the 
weather reports, and in the relative isolation of the studio she didn't have 
to fend off countless irritations from her "public". The studio world had 
its own private code of behavior and a language that had to do with cameras, 
sound levels and precise measurements of time. 

Once the first take was completed, they would all sit back and observe their 
miniature production, relaxing and commenting on the fine points of the 
production. The directors and control room crew treated her like a 
professional, and indeed she was, considering the extravagant fees she 
collected for the short pieces of video-tape. Away from her, the guys talked 
gustily about her sexual desirability, even discussing her individual charms 
in glowing detail, and Kris knew they did. But she pretended not to hear and 
refused to let herself be unduly upset by it. 

"Well old partners, so much for this backstage bullshit, I'd love to shoot 
the breeze back here with you all afternoon but I've got to get down to 
Studio B for a, how do they say it? 'brief commercial message', or The Boss 
will tar my ass! Be good now!" 

The luscious blonde hot-footed it down to the studio, where the crew was 
waiting for her, the props were ready and the "idiot cards" she would read 
her lines off were all in place. She went through her paces expertly and in 
no time the commercial was wrapped up and ready to be aired later that 
evening during the Late Owl Cinema. She was free, at least for a while, from 
the grueling schedule she worked. The intense pressure of the commercial 
made up for its rapid production time, but that was what her business was 
all about: Big Pressure and Big Money. Little did the sleepy viewers who 
would see her from under their bedding in between some old movie know that 
behind the smile and polish was a computer mind, registering every detail 
from sound level to the curve of her neck as she stood before the camera. 

Slung from a shoulder strap, her combination purse, make-up kit and 
"traveling desk" were compressed into a Moroccan leather bag a sponsor had 
brought back for her. It bounced against her swinging hips as Kris Anderson 
ducked out of the Artist's Entrance on a side street, around the corner from 
the main entrance to the television station. She was still in the clingy 
on-the-air outfit she had worn, but there was no time to change. She hated 
to parade her fine figure out in public like this, but it always seemed she 
was in too much of a hurry to put something on that did more to conceal her 
luscious breasts and well-turned thighs. She entered a bar, the favorite 
hang-out for the employees of the station, The Control Room. She always felt 
a little safer mingling with show people as they were more accustomed to 
knock-out beauties and she could take care of herself with them. 

Most of them were her friends, or at least acquaintances, and the other 
girls dressed a lot sexier than she did, with see-through blouses and 
micro-mini skirts that barely covered their pussies ... and some of them 
would come over for a fast drink still in their G-strings or dance outfits. 
Kris felt almost overdressed, even in her own high-powered attire. Once she 
found herself wondering what these girls must be like, and then she laughed 
and realized that she looked pretty appetizing herself and that like her, 
they were just dressed for their work. 

"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," she muttered. 

Kris was greeted with shouts and whistles and a multitude of beckoning 
hands, inviting her to join various groups of people at the bar or in the 
dimly lighted area reserved for tables. With her genuinely friendly smile 
she waved back and let them know she'd stop for a short rap all around. But 
the rich aroma of the chef's special barbecued steak assailed her flaring 
nostrils, and she remembered she'd had nothing to eat all day and was 
famished. Glancing at her watch, she realized that she had skipped lunch 
again. It seemed she always had work to do or she'd face a silly little 
lecture from Old Cavanaugh, as everybody called the stern, grey-haired 
general manager of the station. Kris loved to put down the chef's steak with 
a baked potato and salad and could eat all she wanted without putting on a 
morsel of fat. 

Rick Bordeli intercepted her before she'd taken a dozen steps. He was a 
ruggedly handsome boy of about twenty-one with a build almost as perfect as 
Kris' flawless form. He had longish but not shaggy, jet black hair and the 
exotic good looks of a Mediterranean man. He had come from an impoverished 
family and ran on sheer drive-or as Stan would have put it-on pure 
pigheadedness! Somehow he had gotten some money saved and escaped from his 
small town in Rhode Island and had landed in New York not knowing a soul. 
Starting as a dishwasher, Rick (his real first name was Ricardo, Kris knew) 
had quickly worked his way up to waiter. Kris knew the handsome young man 
never got to bed before three in the morning, yet was studying electronic 
circuiting in the mornings. She recognized in him the same savage need to 
succeed on his own terms that she felt. 

She was aware that the husky young man, at the peak of his maleness, wanted 
her, and she tried to slide out from under his desire. 

But the beautiful divorcee found it hard to deep her eyes from the bulge 
that formed in his tight leather pants every time she came into the 
restaurant. It had been so long since Stan left her with no warning. There 
had been no arguments. He had just packed up and left with the dumb older 
woman in one of the most expensive cars in the world, taking with him what 
had to be one of the most magnificent penises ever known. 

The nights had been so empty since that tragic day. 

Kris' cunt had been so empty! 

But in her heartbreak, she walked alone, feeling in her tormented heart that 
somewhere there was a man who would love her, not use her and then cast her 
away like Stan had done. And the things he had tried to make her submit to! 

He'd actually wanted her to go to bed with his computer customers! 

Kris knew the word people used for men like Stan. He was a ... Pimp! 

But, oh boy, Stan had been smooth, so devious! 

Teasing and arousing her just before guests would be expected, then leaving 
her on the edge of fulfillment, panting to have him fill her eager pussy 
while doing his subtle sales pitch about how the Big Customer from San 
Francisco would be arriving momentarily and for Pete's sake, be nice to him! 
Stan Anderson made his own little pitch to the fat old bags who just 
happened to be married to guys who might buy an entire computer system for 
their companies, or better yet, their city or state government. 

Kris flatly refused, even on the night when, pulling away from a pathetic 
but nevertheless likeable man named Buzz, she went down a dark hallway 
toward the bathroom and passed an open bedroom door. A dim light was on, and 
on the bed she saw her virile husband frantically licking the cunt of the 
woman Buzz had brought with him, the redhead's sensuous lips were tightly 
ringed around the thick shaft of Stan's cock, and both their heads were 
bobbing up and down furiously as their tongues licked each other. The murky 
scent of rampant sex filled the air, and her ears buzzed with the slurping 
of their hungry mouths. 

It was just incredible! 

If they had to be such-such-animals! they might have at least gotten up off 
the floor and surely they could have closed the door! 

For a moment Kris had a wild urge to give eye-for-eye and tooth-for-tooth! 
Return to the other room and drop to her knees in front of Buzz and fish his 
penis from his baggy pants and suck it until he choked her throat with his 
cum. She knew how much he wanted her ... and how sweet it would be if Stan 
had happened in and found her with his thick cock locked in her gulping lips 
when she so often denied him. 

But Kris couldn't, despite the rage forming inside her. Silently, she 
tiptoed away, freshening herself in the bath and returned to play the part 
of perfect hostess, and she felt sorry for the aging man called Buzz because 
only when she put off his advances did she realize that Stan had set up the 
whole thing as a swap for the night, to close a deal. Buzz read it all in 
her face when she finally returned. 

"You got a glimpse of what's going on back there," he inquired in a meek 
tone. 

"My stars! Yes!" she gulped, her blonde hair tousled by her nervous fingers. 
She felt great compassion for this older man. "Isn't it just disgusting?" 

"Oh, I suppose it's not so hard when you're young," Buzz said sullenly. "The 
flesh and the heart are still willing. Now I just don't have much left in 
the flesh category ... though my heart still remembers. Anyhow, Stan made a 
deal." Buzz said, picking a piece of lint off his trousers. "I suspected you 
hadn't the faintest idea of what was supposed to go on ... and besides, I 
couldn't bring off my end of the bargain ... I'm just one of those dirty old 
men, who can't do it properly anymore." He sighed. "That young lady in there 
means a lot to me, but I can't give her everything she needs. If I want to 
hold on to her, I have to find young meat for her ... and I can understand 
it ... She's so young and beautiful ... and she's so good for me ... 
sometimes ... I let myself do things like tonight. I'm a degenerate old man, 
I reckon." 

Impetuously sitting beside him, Kris said, "I can't believe you're over the 
hill! You still seem wide awake to me! You are a sweet man, and I bet you'd 
make a heckuva lover!" She leaned over to kiss Buzz tenderly, and her hand 
brushed the hardness of his stirring penis, and through her mind came the 
thought that maybe she should do it, make love with him! Not out of a 
perverse desire for revenge, but to try to mend the heart of a fading man, 
who just happened to be a pretty nice guy. 

But no! If she went ahead with it, she'd be just like Stan, rutting away 
with the fiery redhead in the spare bedroom. She could lie back on the soft, 
fur-covered couch, could drop her panties and spread her legs and give her 
body ... or she could go really far out and actually try sucking Buzz. But 
Kris thought either would be overdoing it. 

There had to be a reasonable solution, and the solution came over to her as 
she felt Buzz coming to life, saw his hand clutching the thick bulge of his 
penis even as she kissed him in compassion and tried to shut out the vision 
of her husband and Buzz's young wife wildly mouthing each other's genitals. 

Kris pulled away from the older man and put her hand over his as it squeezed 
his undulating cock. 

"Allow me," she managed to mutter. 

Her steadily groping fingers found his zipper and opened his fly, then poked 
around until she found his rigid member. She drew it out and freed his balls 
from the confines of his shorts and stroked his hot male flesh gently, 
peeling the thick foreskin down and rolling it up again over the bulbous 
head. This was wrong, Kris knew, but he was a kindly guy, and in the far end 
of the big house, her husband was doing unspeakable things with Buzz's wife, 
and she sensed that at this moment he needed some love and comforting, and 
who else was there to give it? 

Why did she always have to be the one in the middle? 

"It isn't all you want ... but if you want to kiss...." she whispered. 

"Oh, yes, PLEASE!" he exclaimed. 

She shifted to move into the circle of his arm ... surprised at his strength 
... and as their mouths came together and tongues curled in unison, her 
stroking fingers clutched his cock tighter and began to move faster, playing 
with his balls as he jerked up toward her feverishly pumping hand. Kris 
hoped Buzz wouldn't try to push her down on the sofa and mount her because, 
if he did, she would yield. She wanted to give him relief, and this was the 
only way she knew. Stan had taught her how to do it in the times when he 
wanted her, and she had refused to accommodate him in the normal way. He had 
instructed her to be gentle and teasing. Now she moved her hand in a slow, 
sensuous rhythm up and down the thick shaft of flesh, while her other hand 
tinglingly caressed his heavy balls. She could feel his urgency as his 
seeking tongue probed her mouth. . 

"It's happening! I'm cumming!" Buzz blurted out suddenly. From his vest 
pocket he pulled out a handkerchief. Kris wrapped it quickly over the 
knob-like head of his cock and stroked him furiously and heard him exclaim 
his climax as Buzz ejaculated in her hand. The handkerchief stopped the 
jetting bursts of his hot semen before they could stain her costly dress but 
soaked through the sheer cloth to wet her fingers as he gasped. "Sweet 
Jesus! I've never felt anything so good!" 

"I'll be right back ... I'll fix some coffee," Kris said. "Whatever you do, 
don't go back into the back bedroom ... you won't like what you see, Buzz." 

She jumped from the sofa and with the sopping wet handkerchief balled up in 
her hand, walked on strangely wobbly legs to the front bathroom. The pungent 
scent of his semen filled the small room as Kris hurriedly washed it out in 
the sink. She saw the thick whitish cum coating her fingers and had an 
overwhelming urge to touch it with the tip of her tongue, taste it, but she 
pushed that idea away. That might be all right for the redhead who was 
gulping her husband's penis ... but not for Kris! 

* * * 

Now, with her best onstage grin, she made her way through The Control Room, 
blowing kisses in all directions, and when Rick Bordeli caught up with her, 
she winked and made a thumb's up gesture, indicating she'd take her usual 
steak and potato plate, with all the trimmings. 

"Gotcha covered, Kris," he said warmly. "You ought to buy your own meat on 
the hoof, at the rate you consume it, you'd save on your food bill!" 

She chuckled. Her healthy appetite was legendary around her friends. She 
often ate steak and potatoes for breakfast, as well. She never was sure what 
she'd find at home, and it seemed easier to eat solid, healthy food whenever 
she had the chance. Her plants and flowers took up most of her time and 
energy at home, and that suited her fine. She liked nothing better than to 
go around the apartment, giving each one their particular caring after, a 
little water for one, a rinse of the leaves for another. They were so 
gentle, and she felt she was able, in some strange way, to communicate with 
them. After the hectic, sound-filled hours at the station, her botanical 
friends were like a quick vacation to another world. It was so much better 
than coming home to a completely empty apartment. 

Now she went about her rounds of chatter at the various tables. In her 
business, these social contacts were a necessary part of her job. Everything 
depended on connections, on who you knew, and what they thought of you. 
People could send an occasional commercial assignment your way, but it was 
more than that. There was always the chance that someone, might be looking 
for a certain type for a feature film, or for a new network news 
personality. But most importantly, one enemy around New York, one who was 
plugged into the show business grapevine, and you could be ruined. It only 
took a few drops of poison-tongued gossip, it didn't matter if it was true 
or not, and pretty soon the nervous nellies who ran the business would be 
afraid to hire her. And too, even though Old Cavanaugh swore he loved her, 
and that she was the hottest thing in town, she knew as soon as some other 
fair-haired dame looked more promising, he could turn her out to pasture 
without losing two seconds sleep. She thought her little garden at home 
really had it made, she'd never throw them over for some new infatuation. 
And they had the one thing she never seemed to have enough of-time. 

Kris finished up one conversation with a bunch of young musicians who were 
leaving on a tour for the Virgin Islands, wishing she could have gone with 
them. As she left them, she ran into Bill Evans, and stopped to talk with 
him. 

Bill was officially called an "assistant director" at the station. But 
everybody called people like him "gophers". "Go-for-this and then 
go-for-that" was usually what the director said to them. They were the 
glorified errand boys who were trying to learn enough about production and 
make enough contacts to become directors themselves one day. Bill was 
learning to make up camera shots, and how to talk to actors, writers and the 
studio crew. But he still was thought of as a too-young and too-green kid to 
be ready to make the big time. Somehow, he managed to get enough money to 
dress well in flashy clothes and finance a Porsche roadster, which he drove 
fast and well. He collected girls and had been trying to collect Kris 
Anderson for months. He would take on an assignment, just to be working with 
Kris, if he had the chance. 

"That shaving cream spot you did was great, Kris," he said. "The way you 
were able to look so sexy and yet innocent at the same time. If they only 
gave Oscars for TV commercials! I can't wait to see how you handle the Boat 
Show spot next week. I feel like I'm in the presence of greatness." 

"Well, the next Greta Garbo would settle for the steak plate I ordered, I'm 
plain hungry, just like you mortals!" the blonde-haired girl said. 

"You always get what you want, sugar, and I'm sure Rick will make sure 
you're well fed again this time", the young man responded. "But if you're 
still itching for a little something to eat when you finish with it, we can 
step out for a nice dessert when you're through with the main dish." 

Kris wanted to say no! She was afraid of wanting a man too much; it wasn't 
hard to tell that Bill Evans wanted her. 

But she gave in and softly whispered "Yes," into his ear and then drifted 
over to another table to await her meal. 

It had been so long. 

She had to be loved. 

Loved? Christ no; she knew what she really craved. 

A good fucking! 

Kris Anderson was, above all, a woman. 

She believed she would never fall into the trap of marriage again, but she 
yearned for a man, a warm pulsating cock to fill her empty vagina, someone 
to stroke and pet her like a kitten and then fuck her. 

Bill Evans was younger, and surely, he would wind up with someone younger 
than herself in the end, but for a time he might satisfy her own carnal 
desire. She sensed she would regret the affair. 

But now she needed him! 

Even though he was too young for her, several years her junior, and she felt 
there was something immoral about wanting sex with a male who could have 
been her younger brother. But she knew she had to have some release! Her 
limber body ached to be filled with manhood. 

Whore! she muttered to herself and went out to freshen up in the ladies 
room. Rick Bordeli watched her every move. The knife-blade thin young waiter 
knew she came to mix with the customers as much as to eat her food. He knew 
just when she was ready to sit down and eat, and brought her plate just 
then. 

What Kris didn't realize was that Rick had gained far more sexual experience 
in his youth in Rhode Island than she had, even after her marriage! And it 
had continued for Rick since he arrived in New York. 

He passed the few hours he spent in bed with his older sister, Marie, 
fucking her out of her mind! 

And if she happened to be out for the evening, he would slip into the 
bedroom of his well-preserved, fiery aunt, Teresa, for something wonderfully 
different than Marie. Teresa would take him in her mouth or in her cunt. 

Teresa, a chestnut-haired bosomy woman yielded readily to his smoldering 
eyes. His aunt had taken him in when he had arrived, and she had been the 
only New Yorker he knew at first. The loneliness of the confused newcomer 
had been miraculously soothed in those early days. Later, as he got 
established, and his sister came down, Rick and Teresa spent less time 
together. His uncle's job took him on the road most of the time, selling 
shoes to the small town merchants on the Eastern seaboard. 

Marie had been bitter the first time she heard the gasps and moans of her 
brother and aunt going at it furiously in the next bedroom. If this is what 
this new city was like, well then, she wanted no part of it! But the sounds 
of fucking had kept her awake, and when Rick had slipped back into their 
room, she had crept into his bed herself. Marie was three years older, a 
voluptuous coal-haired girl with ripe breasts and muscular, powerful legs. 
She had begun to hang around with some guys in a pop group, and they taught 
her a lot of things to do to appease their sexual appetites. 

"Sweet Mother of Jesus! This is the end ... yeah, baby!" the boy moaned. 
"For Chrissake! Sis...." 

"Don't talk, you're wasting time!" she replied, letting his now-rejuvenated 
penis escape her ovaling lips for a moment. "Eat me!" 

Smoothly, she straddled his surprised young face, bringing her cum-filled 
snatch down tight to his mouth. When she felt his tongue slither far up her 
delicate cuntal furrow and delve deep into her, she moaned in ecstasy and 
sucked his cock ravenously between her own rounded lips. 

Rick forgot that this was his sister. For weeks they went on, always after 
he had been wildly fucking his aunt and she would be sleeping soundly after 
her own blissful sessions and wouldn't be likely to hear their own sluicing 
sounds. But discovery seemed inevitable. Marie and Rick were alone one time 
while Teresa was at her job as a cashier at a posh hotel on Fifth Avenue. 
The younger couple were in their bedroom, copulating furiously, after having 
encountered each other in the bathroom as coincidentally they both went to 
take a shower. 

Teresa had stopped off in the hotel pool after work, and wore only a thin 
shift over her still-wet bikini swimsuit. Letting herself into the house, 
she heard the wet, smacking sounds of sex and knew what must be going on. 
Slipping her pool slippers off, she went silently down the hall to Rick's 
room and peered through the partly open doorway. She blinked as she saw her 
nephew wildly jamming himself into his eager older sister, his long thick 
penis ravishing her tightly grasping young pussy! Teresa heard Marie wildly 
scream as she reached orgasm and then watched young Rick pull his slippery 
cock out of her cunt and rise over her squirming body. Marie eagerly reached 
for the rampant spear and gulped it in her mouth, her lips closing on it in 
a tight, demandingly soft oval, her cheeks alternately puffing and 
contracting, her nostrils flaring as she sucked and moaned in wanton 
pleasure until the boy jerked furiously and spurted thick streams of rich, 
hot cum into her throat, fucking furiously into her demanding mouth. 

Teresa slipped away and said nothing, but sensed her own body tingling with 
delight. 

That night, when Marie went out on a date, she called Rick to her bedroom 
and confronted him. He blushed furiously, unable to deny his incestuous 
conduct. It was one thing to fuck the wife of his mother's brother-but his 
own sister! 

"If your father was here, Rick, you know he would tear your eyes out," 
Teresa said. 

The boy was crushed and began to cry. He could not find words to beg for 
mercy, but his young aunt offered him an escape route. Teresa had planned 
her approach carefully. There was something she needed but had never dared 
to ask her husband to do for her, but now she could make Rick satisfy her. 
Before she had just been a willing accomplice to his love-making, unable to 
deny her sex-starved body the release it craved. Now he was her yielding 
tool! 

"Oh, stop that whining!" she said firmly. "Take your clothes off!" 

"Your uncle's going to be gone for two months," Teresa said as she peeled 
off her dressing gown and stood in splendid nakedness before him. "From now 
on, I won't have to lie in here at night and listen to you fucking your 
sister." Teresa had never heard them before this day, but she decided she 
might as well exploit the situation to her best advantage. "With this long 
trip, I'm going to need satisfaction from you more regularly. And I'll be 
damned if I'm going to go out and pick up a man in some bar. I'd rather just 
keep it all together, one happy little family!" 

She began to tear the clothes from the surprised boy, and as his tight jeans 
slithered down his legs, Teresa pushed him onto her big bed, and without 
wasting a minute, ovaled her lips and enclosed his penis in them, sucking 
furiously on his young cock until it was long and hard and deep in her 
throat. Her tongue whirled with unbelievable expertise, bringing him to 
aching rigidity. She was delighted to have the upper hand, and to be able to 
show him her prowess in the full light of day for the first time. 

And then his beautiful aunt knelt across the bed, her sleek thighs lewdly 
splayed open, her pale-fringed pussy swollen with desire as she reached back 
to spread the quivering cheeks of her smoothly rounded buttocks with both 
hands. 

"Now!" she moaned. "Now, when you're hot and stiff!" 

The still-astonished young man dropped to his knees behind her. He grasped 
her writhing hips and, with one urgent lunge, drove his cock to the hilt up 
into her wetly heated cunt. 

"Not down there! Not yet anyway!" Teresa cried in frustration. She pulled 
her ass-cheeks even wider and thrust a finger deep into her tiny puckered 
anus, twisting it around. "Up here!" 

Unbelievingly, the boy reluctantly withdrew his pulsing young cock from her 
hotly clutching pussy as her hand grabbed his rock-hard cock-shaft and 
guided it up against the tight rubbery ring of her rectum. 

"Slam it in!" his aunt moaned. Young Rick Gordeli jammed himself forward and 
felt resistance, and then the parting of her anal flesh. Her puckering 
little anus was incredibly tight as she squirmed and humped back, and 
suddenly his turgid cock was deeply embedded up inside her hot spongy flesh, 
and she was screwing back to absorb all the throbbing length. 

"Eeeeeeeeyyyaaahh! Beautiful! BEAUTIFUL!" 

After that afternoon Rick knew all he'd ever have to know about sex. But in 
time, some complications arose. 

Marie fell in love with a navy pilot, and told Rick bluntly that the aviator 
was fucking her so hard and often, she was no longer interested in carrying 
on their incestuous affair. Occasionally she would yield to him, but not 
that often. 

If that wasn't bad enough, his uncle's employers had promoted him to the 
main office in New York, as an executive, so he now spent most of his time 
at home, and Teresa was afraid they would be caught and reluctantly ended 
their affair. Rick was bitter and finally decided it would be better to live 
alone. He had been saving a little money from each of his dishwasher's 
paychecks and the boss at The Control Room had been promising him a crack at 
a waiter's job. With the savings and new income, he figured he could be 
self-sufficient. His uncle even helped him out, lending him the money for a 
stove and refrigerator for his new unfurnished place. Rick had paid him back 
promptly, and his uncle thought he was doing well on his own. 

What he didn't know was that his wife visited the studio at least once a 
week, lay on her stomach and begged his nephew to give her what she liked so 
much ... and what her husband refused her ... a fuck in the ass! 

But sex once a week just wasn't enough for young Rick, and from the first 
time he saw Kris he wanted her with all his virile youth ... and intuitively 
he knew that beneath her smiles and poise she was hurting for a man. 

Well, if in years he wasn't the man for her, his experience with Marie and 
Teresa had taught him well. He was sure he could do anything she liked and 
do it better than an older guy! 

In the nights he imagined how she was going to respond if he put his cock in 
her ass, or mouth, or pussy, even as he was balling a teenybopper who was 
just learning how to fuck and suck. 

None of these brainless teenage girls were really worth a shit in bed, and 
no matter how good-looking they were, sometimes he had a hard time getting 
it up. 

Rick wanted a woman who knew what sex was all about! 

Like Teresa. 

Like Marie. 

Like, he hoped, Kris Anderson! 

And, while nothing had ever happened between them, and he made it a point to 
be pleasant and respectful every time she came into the steak and cocktails 
place to relax and make the rounds of her show business associates, he was 
as hot as the sand in the Sahara Desert. He sensed Kris was as interested in 
him as he was in her, and with a wisdom beyond his years, he waited 
patiently, looking for the right moment. 

Now as he watched her circulate through the crowd, he loaded his tray with 
the sizzling barbecued cut of beef, added the delicate wine sauce, and then 
the steaming carrots and baked potato with butter and sour cream to the 
plate. He knew they'd satisfy her famous appetite for food. 

If he could only get the chance to feed her cunt with his well-endowed and 
highly-trained cock! 

But the handsome young man knew it was too soon ... he would just have to 
bide his time, wait and catch the beautiful television personality at the 
right moment. 

And then he saw her go off with some nitwit assistant director who was 
always acting like Cecil B. DeMille! 

"Sweet Jesus!" he said. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Kris left the last table of people she had wanted to talk with that day and 
shut her mind to work. The technicians would play the tape she made earlier. 
The meal had been good, but the idea of the dessert that Bill Evans had 
planted in her mind had stayed with her, and her sweet tooth was primed. She 
couldn't wait for a little treat! 

But this wasn't the place to linger over a fine pastry. And besides this 
place was like an extension of work, and she needed to relax. 

Relax? the girl thought to herself. I need to get a good fucking! 

Even as the thought flashed through her mind, the ripe young girl blushed. 
How could she think of such a thing? And she hardly even knew Bill. 

Yet she needed love so much, and love was a man, and a man had a penis that 
had to be satisfied. 

I hope that dumb old broad of Stan's breaks a leg! 

She knew she would yield. And perhaps it would not be too bad with Bill. He 
was husky and well-built, not exactly a dream-boat but interesting to a 
woman with his blond hair, cool blue eyes and firm jaw. She could just close 
her own green eyes and enjoy! 

Forget he was years younger, barely over twenty, while she was twenty-eight. 

Kris, with tears forming up in her eyes, made a decision. 

"Let's pick something up and take it up to my place. I've got to water my 
little children, and the African Violet needs to be fed today." At that 
moment, Rick arrived with the check and a box. She couldn't imagine what was 
in the cardboard container he was carrying. "A little surprise for you, 
Kris! You never stick around for dessert so I got the boss to part with a 
deluxe chocolate cake for you! It's on the house, compliments of The Control 
Room, to our most beautiful regular customer! It's loaded with cream 
filling, too!" 

"Why thank you Rick, how did you know that's just what my taste buds were 
yearning for? You always seem to know what I want, even before I tell you!" 

With a sting in his eyes, the young waiter watched her leave with Bill 
Evans. He didn't know about Evans, but he knew even Kris couldn't eat that 
cake alone in a week! And going home with a sharp looking guy like Evans at 
this point could only mean one thing. 

He was fucking her. 

"Son of a bitch!" Rick mumbled, envisioning Kris's long legs spreading wide, 
the guy ramming his prick into her beautiful little cunt and then her legs 
flailing and wrapping around his heavy back and her ass-cheeks wide open 
while her love-starved pussy sucked in and massaged his rod! It was getting 
to be a drag, with Marie splitting from his bed and Teresa coming over so 
seldom. He looked around the restaurant and glued his eyes on a young dancer 
who had been dropping in regularly the past few weeks. She was good-looking 
with trim legs, a full bosom and long, sleek, black hair. He knew her name 
was Cookie Miller and that she danced on one of the evening variety shows. 
He had even seen her talking with Kris a few times. But she was always 
alone, which seemed odd because she was a little knockout. He had tried to 
make time with her a few times and gotten nowhere. 

Now the young man had an overwhelming urge to take out his hurt on someone 
or something. If the cat which lurked around the kitchen door had been 
conveniently available he thought maybe he'd have booted it around, though 
he really liked the hungry tom and saved the choicest scraps for it. And 
this cute little dish had been putting him down, and more than once she had 
split without paying. He saw her head turn slightly as Bill and Kris left. 
Suddenly he remembered he had a Caesar Salad to pick up at the chef's 
counter for the girl, and he hustled over to retrieve it before the cook 
chewed off his ear about letting the lettuce wilt. As he brought it to the 
little dark-haired girl, he figured he'd make up for the times she hadn't 
paid and release some of his own pent-up frustration by playing with her 
mind a little. 

"Hey, I'm off in about an hour, kiddo," he said as he set the huge salad 
before her. "You in the mood to come over to my place, Cookie?" Without 
batting an eyelash the pert sexpot looked up at the lean boy and in a little 
girl tone of voice asked, "Why, what for?" 

"Why, you ask? For a good fuck ... for the same thing those two just 
scampered out the door for!" 

Rick, as soon as he had delivered the lines, thought she would smack his 
foul mouth with the napkin she was placing in her lap. He knew he had it 
coming, and he could only gasp when he heard the little jet-black-haired 
beauty's response. 

"It's about time you asked! I was starting to think you were just teasing me 
to keep her coming in here! Will you be ready by the time I finish eating?" 

"I'm ready right now ... Alex can run the joint!" 

"Gimme a half an hour to eat-I'm famished," the little girl with the sweet 
face said. "And could you sneak us a little cake or something, for after, 
okay?" 

Rick could hardly believe it, and he still expected Cookie would laughingly 
tell him to kiss her ass just before he was ready to go with her ... and not 
pay the bill again. But she paid and waited for him patiently, even though 
it took him over an hour to get out of the restaurant. A group of tourists 
had somehow stumbled onto the place and he gritted his teeth as they asked 
him about every item on the menu, in detail, and dawdled over their whole 
meal-and then they left without even giving him a tip! 

* * * 

"You really know how to suck cock," he whispered three hours later as she 
was swallowing his hot cum and licking her semen covered lips and crawling 
up the sofa-bed to poke her pink little tongue into his mouth. "A helluva 
good cocksucker!" 

"You ain't so bad yourself at eating pussy," she said, laughing heartily. 

Rick cupped a breast, squeezing, and told himself he had made up for the 
hurt he'd felt when Kris had walked out with the assistant director. He'd 
sure given Cookie more than he could have ever given Kris, and there was 
plenty more to come. 

What he hadn't the faintest notion of was that the little dark-haired girl 
whose mouth was still sweet with his cum had done the exact thing for the 
very same reason. 

Cookie Miller was in bed with Rick, ready to adopt a thousand-and-one 
positions, only because she was acting out her own despair. For she, too, 
was in love with Kris and was eager to get the weather girl nakedly spread 
out in bed.... 

* * * 

Kris found herself trembling as she mounted the big Honda 750. The machine 
scared her, yet she loved it. She had acquired it from one of her sponsors 
and took it to the station on those days when she needed a change of pace. 
The sponsor had been delighted to give it to her, knowing the good publicity 
it would bring the product as she was seen tooling around the streets of New 
York on it. Kris appreciated the gift of the beautiful road bike. 

She found it a great replacement for the sex she craved. 

Throbbing beneath her as its powerful motor sent it tearing down the road, 
her long legs tight over the saddle that was vibrating against the flowering 
lips of her cunt, she would often cum! The fine leather would be moist with 
her fluid passion, and by the time she reached home, she would be sopping, 
and satiated, not wanting to sinfully touch herself between the legs. 

But the bike was just a substitute, she had to admit to herself. 

She really needed a stiff cock deep inside her hungry cunt. And left behind 
her was Bill Evans, trying to keep up with her in his Porsche roadster. He 
couldn't wind in and out of traffic the way Kris could, and had gotten stuck 
behind a big truck. Kris cranked the Honda all the way out, wanting to get 
to her place a few minutes ahead of the good-looking young man, so she could 
freshen up a bit. 

For she was taking a big step tonight. This would be the first time she had 
shared a bed with a man since Stan had abruptly left her, and the 
long-legged girl didn't know if she could go through with it or not-or 
whether when it came down to the moment of truth if Bill would be turned on 
by her. It had been so long since a man had fucked her she was actually 
afraid she might not be desirable to a man. Even though she knew she was 
good-looking and got lots of flirting invitations, this was the real thing. 
And Stan had wounded her ego when he had left. 

She sensed Bill wanted her, and maybe she should let him take the 
initiative. But in the nine months since he'd worked at the station, he'd 
never made an overt move, and she was afraid he was going to be as shy as 
herself ... which would leave both of them out on a limb, and possibly no 
longer friends. 

Perhaps she should make the first move, come on strong, be the aggressor? 

With her long blonde hair flowing, the appetizing divorcee leaned the big 
bike into the drive of her apartment house, and she glanced upward at the 
sky and saw the moon was almost full. 

It's the moon, she thought! The almost-full moon always upset her balance, 
the way others were driven crazy by the full moon. A werewolf moon, and I'm 
feeling like a she-wolf! 

As she cut the switch and the powerful motor died, she had to laugh at 
herself because her thought had been the same sort of foolishness she used 
to make of in others. In the distance she heard a spasmodic revving engine 
which could only be Bill in his Porsche, straining to catch up with her. She 
knew he loved to tinker with cars, and always had a few old jalopies around 
his place. He loved to fix them up and sell them, usually getting twice the 
price he had paid for them. Maybe that was how he managed to dress so well 
and go out all the time on his small salary. But there was little time to 
worry about that now. With a burst of energy that seemed to come from her 
excitement, she bounded up the stairs, two at a time, she let herself into 
her apartment and quickly peeled off her panties and washed up between her 
legs. Kris knew that if Bill touched her thighs while she was still 
perspiring with desire, he'd suspect how easy she'd be, and she wanted him 
to make slow, teasing love, not knowing that she wanted it more than he did. 
She knew that a man wants to be the conqueror, and in her own simple mind 
thought it would be better for both of them if she pretended to hold back 
and then give her supple body with great reluctance, not revealing the 
passion she really felt until his long hard penis was sunk deep up into her 
burning flesh. 

"How can you do a thing like this?" she cursed to herself as she slithered 
into rose-scented panties. And then she answered her own question. "Because 
it's been too God-awful long!" 

The door bell sounded and Bill was there with the chocolate cake in his 
hands. 

"Step right in-I can't wait to sink my teeth into that cake ... I'll get the 
coffee started ... ," Kris blurted. 

The tall, attractive, blond-haired man grinned in lewd anticipation as his 
eyes fathered in her curvaceous figure. He sensed Kris was hot for his cock. 
The coffee and cake would just be Round One of their dessert! For a bonus, 
he would eat her! 

It was amusing to watch them gobble up the cake intended for at least a 
family of four, with only an occasional sip of coffee to wash it down. Kris 
ate most of it, and Bill couldn't help wondering how she ate so much and 
still looked so svelte and thin, as she sat next to him on the sofa. 

"Hhhhhhmmmmmm ... that was just what the doctor ordered!" Kris exclaimed for 
the greenhouse of plants and flowers and little trees, perched all over the 
small apartment. And every moment or two Kris would jump up remembering she 
had to water this one, or take that one into the shower to wash off its 
leaves. And the way she primped and fussed over them was positively 
ridiculous, he thought. When she stood at the sink, preparing some pinkish 
fluid for one of the delicate orchids, Bill had to say something. 

"If you spent as much time making sure you got enough to eat as you do 
worrying about those fool plants, you wouldn't get so ravenously hungry and 
eat a whole cake at a time!" Bill half-teased her. 

"Oh, but you see, these are my little babies! They need me!" Kris half-joked 
back. 

"Well, how about giving this little baby a little nourishment," Bill said. 
He kissed the blonde-haired divorcee and found her mouth gently opening, 
tasting of chocolate creme cake. In his firm embrace, he felt her tremble as 
he leaned on her and pushed her down on the leather fabric of the living 
room couch. And then her tongue was swirling with his, exploring his mouth 
as he was diving deep into hers and hearing her sigh with pleasure as her 
nostrils widened and her body began to shake under him. 

Hot damn, she was dying for it! He never figured it'd be this easy! Bill 
knew now was the time to press on to the final goal! 

His hand traveled up to cup and squeeze her lushly upthrust breast through 
the thin cloth of Kris' dress. 

"Not yet, please ... she groaned, but her writhing only increased as the 
fire began to burn deep in her loins. And then his hand moved lower, over 
the rounded firmness of her hips and between her quivering legs, up the 
tender flesh of her tight inner thighs, and finally teasing fingers were 
sliding under the lace of her panties and caressing her soft cunt lips and 
pressing her rising clitoris. Kris felt the weight of him pushing her down, 
the stiffness of his cock against her quivering belly and with part of her 
mind determined to fight her carnal desires at the same time. She knew she 
would lose the fight ... she hoped to lose ... but had to hold on to some 
last remnants of respectability she clung to in her mind. 

Yet the beautiful dewy-skinned woman knew she wasn't really fooling anybody. 
She yearned for a man, and now a man was holding her tight and his maleness 
was undeniable! And so was the desire she was showing in tenderly kissing 
him and sucking his tongue deep down her throat, biting his lips as she 
wiggled and pressed her love-starved body closer and closer to his, grinding 
her pubic mound against the pulsing bulge of his crotch. She could hear the 
panting of her own breath through her flaring nostrils as she pulled her 
mouth away and cried out, "ooooh, Bill! Soooo good!" 

"Which way to the bridal suite?" he asked. "I feel like all these vegetable 
creatures are staring at us!" 

He slid the second finger of his right hand into the already dewy depths of 
her excitedly pulsating cunt, and with his thumb he worked on her clitoris 
while Kris lay in his arms, clutching him frantically. 

"You'll see," she was able to utter through her trembling-hot lips. Tears 
welled from her eyes as she slipped from his eager maleness and said, "Bill, 
I'm not usually the sort to allow this sort of thing ... not usually ... but 
tonight ... I just couldn't hold out any longer...." 

"Everybody needs it," he said. 

"But please ... just one thing ... please be slow! I'm afraid!" Kris sobbed 
out. "Not of you ... but of myself!" 

"The gang told me you had a bad scene with your husband ... but you pulled 
yourself together," the light-haired young man said. "If you're still strung 
out, this is the sure way to get over the hump." Firmly he shut the door of 
the bedroom-he didn't want the thought of the garden of plants out there to 
spoil his lovemaking. He didn't want anything on his mind but getting into 
this sweet piece of tail! He'd practically had a constant hard-on since he'd 
first seen Kris and now, almost before he knew what was happening, he 
actually was going to get his cock in her! 

She looked like she'd be a great fuck, but there had to be a catch, or why 
would her old man have dumped her ... such a prime hunk ... even for money? 

Man, she was out-a-sight! Big, firm tits, an hourglass waist, and the kind 
of ass and legs you dream about! At this particular moment he didn't care if 
she was as frigid as the North Pole-which she sure didn't seem to be from 
the way she kissed, and her wiggling little cunt was so juicy when he slid 
his outstretched middle finger to the recesses of her gyrating, warm body. 
He thought for a minute about pushing her to take it in her mouth first and 
decided against it. Kris was clearly nervous. It was all becoming clear. She 
had to get fucked, and fucked good, then she'd relax. The second time 
around, she might eat him, with a little bit of gentle persuasion. He could 
see the way the beautiful blonde-haired woman was trembling in readiness as 
he pushed the lock button on the door. She was standing, exhaling deeply, 
her creamy breasts rising and falling with undeniable excitement, the 
nipples sharply patterned against the thin fabric of her Indian print dress. 
And all this was going to be his! Inside his tight pants, his cock throbbed 
with the need for her as he managed to say, "I want you to strip ... strip 
down to the bone." 

"Of course ... but you'll have to do it ... something in me won't let me," 
Kris murmured. "I just can't let myself do this!" 

"But you do want to, don't you?" the tall blond-haired young man queried. 

"Of course," she responded in a whisper. "More than anything, yes!" 

Kris closed her eyes as she felt his arms surround her aroused body. Then 
there was the steady sound of the zipper of her dress being pulled urgently 
downward, and then it was slipping away, revealing the pliant warm flesh of 
her body. Exposed ruthlessly to his gaze, she watched as Bill pulled off her 
brassiere. Then, save for her tiny panties, she was naked. And, seconds 
later, his groping fingers were pulling the lacy panties away from her 
excitedly trembling ass-cheeks, yanking them down almost savagely, so that 
she lost her balance and fell across the bed, her firm legs spreading wide 
just an instant before the young man threw himself on top of her, his 
stiffened penis pressing long and hot against her nervously undulating 
loins. 

Discarding all her long cultivated morals, the sultry divorcee found herself 
clutching Bill tight and shamelessly yearning to have the pliant forceful 
penetration of his penis deep up inside her long-neglected cunt. She knew 
she was doing wrong but she couldn't help it-if her pussy wasn't filled with 
cock soon, she thought she'd go out of her mind! She'd do herself in on her 
Honda or drive her Jaguar into the East River. 

As guilty as she felt about what she was doing, at least it wasn't as 
destructive as taking her own life. 

Kris wouldn't purposely commit suicide, but she had heard about people who 
had the subconscious urge, she desperately feared she might one day succumb 
to it herself. 

Being also a realist, she could see the problem was within herself. Kris had 
loved life but had been strictly limited during her early years, and when 
she finally married and came to know the joys of her own body, she had been 
abandoned! Cast away! Even now she doubted Bill Evans love for her, even as 
his hands fondled her tingling flesh. 

At least, she thought, she could make believe his embraces were real. 

Kris could lie to herself while she surrendered her boldly yearning body to 
this man who was with her on the bed. She could pretend that what he felt 
for her was deep and real, that he really understood her loneliness and her 
need for human contact. For, beneath the glamorous veneer that she displayed 
to the world, Kris Anderson was just like anybody else. She needed to be 
cared for and appreciated, and being fucked was the supreme expression of a 
man's feeling for a woman. If only she could believe it was real! 

At that moment, she wished there was a good bottle of Scotch in the 
apartment to melt away her inhibitions. She wished she could give and take 
without any reservations at all, as some of the younger girls did. Through 
her mind flashed the vision of young Rick Gordeli. He was practically a 
teenager, but somehow she sensed the young man knew a lot more about sex 
than she did, and she felt old enough to be his mother. 

Face facts ... get on with what you need to do! Kris Anderson silently 
commanded herself. 

Moaning with desire, she reached down to clutch Bill's probing penis, as she 
had that night so long ago with Buzz. But this time not with the motive of 
stilling the man's desire but of satisfying her own smoldering urge. And 
then she realized that in her daydreaming, her lewd fantasies, she'd 
forgotten that while she was completely nude, the lover she had convinced 
herself to accept was still fully clothed! Swallowing hard, she felt her 
face flushing, and said, "Why don't you get out of those clothes!" 

"Oh, wow, Kris ... you're too much!" he panted. In seconds he shed his 
clothes and his urgently rigid penis leaped out like a spring from his 
loins, hanging free, the orange-like balls swollen with semen below it. 
"This is going to be an all-night party!" 

"Yes ... ," Kris agreed, unable to unglue her eyes from the huge lance which 
would be fulfilling her shamefully carnal needs in minutes. She didn't want 
Bill Evans as a person. She realized he was too close to the age Stan had 
been when he married her, and she sensed that if an emotional bond 
developed, he too, would hurt her in the end. Degenerate as it might be, 
Kris thought she'd rather have a much younger mate, one who hadn't been 
around long enough to capture her. She didn't want to dominate, but she 
couldn't stand the thought of being hurt again. She thought of the young 
waiter, Rick. Now, he had the growth of a man and seemed to have a drive 
within himself ... and Kris knew he was hot for her. 

He was so young, barely out of his teens.... 

It would be like ... doing it with a younger brother ... but it didn't do 
any harm to dream.... 

But the pulsating penis in her firmly grasping fingers was no dream. It was 
virility, and she was femininity, even if in a confused version. Closing her 
powerful green eyes, she petted it, stroked it, feeling the fleshy fore-skin 
roll over the bulging rubbery head and the quick pulsing in the swelling 
veins. Drops of the pre-seminal fluid oozed from the tiny hole at the tip 
and smeared her palm and she trembled in eagerness. 

Kris was dying to have it in her! 

Afterwards, she surely would be sorry. She might find a church and quietly 
pray for forgiveness of her earthly desire. But at the moment, the hot 
throbbing penis delicately stroked by her long, fine-shaped fingers was all 
that counted. 

She tried to guide his huge mushroom-shaped cock-head into the widely 
flowering entrance to her pussy. But Bill pulled back. 

"Hey, you wanted it slow and easy, remember?" he said, leering lewdly. "Just 
leave everything up to ole Bill. I'll give it to you when you're good and 
ready!" 

"But I'm ready right now!" the inflamed divorcee groaned in protest, 
thrusting up her wetly straining pussy with a shamelessness that surprised 
her. But Bill, instead of plunging his bulging pole of flesh into her 
waiting body, grasped the shaking mounds of her breasts and squeezed them, 
pressing the supple flesh while his lips came down on the upthrust nipples 
and teasingly sucked them alternately, his teeth gently nibbling. Kris's 
wantonly available body surged hotly beneath him as unbelievable shots of 
electric excitement traveled through her straining loins. In moments, all 
hesitation fled from her, all thoughts of guilt. She wrapped an arm tightly 
around Bill's neck as, mad with desire, she again tried to bring the warm, 
passion-crazed head of his cock to her puckering cunt and she hissed, "Come 
on ... now ... give it ... to me!" 

But 'once again he tantalizingly denied Kris, thinking the more she was 
forced to plead for it the better it would be. The heavy spear of his penis 
slipped from her agile, grasping fingers and slid into the crease of her 
lewdly open ass-cheeks, and Kris groaned in frustration as she felt the 
supple knob momentarily graze against the sensitive little bud of her anus. 

And then he had his penis in his own hand and was teasingly rubbing it up 
the full length of her blossoming cuntal portal, arching his back, just 
letting her feel the delicious sensations of his throbbing cock-head on the 
flaming lips of her quivering pussy. He jerked his slender hips forward and 
she felt the head of his cock up her long-chaste vulva-and then hesitating! 

"Oh no, not that!" the tormented blonde-haired beauty cried out as her long 
sinewy legs imprisoned his hovering body. A depraved, sluttish decision 
popped into her mind. She'd force Bill to stop this torture! The groping 
fingers of her right hand again closed around his rampant rod, and furiously 
she began to masturbate him. In seconds he was yielding, plunging down with 
his strong, well-developed body as Kris brazenly positioned the spear-shaped 
shaft of his cock at the gates of her smoldering cuntal opening. She gasped, 
as much at the thought as at the reality, because for the first time in 
years, a maleness was tautly spreading her sensitive pussy-lips, and she 
sighed, "Aaahhh!" 

And then she exclaimed softly as the molten tip of his hard shaft actually 
penetrated up inside the opening of her cunt. It was like the first time 
with Stan ... he was just too huge! 

"Ooogggyyy!" Kris moaned. "Take it easy!" 

But she had inflamed him beyond the point of return by then. Straining, Bill 
jammed his lust-swollen cock a fraction of an inch at a time up into her 
achingly stretched pussy, feeling her reluctant inner flesh being carried 
away in great flowing waves by his surging cock-head. 

Kris twisted and cried out softly at the pain as the huge pulsating rod 
relentlessly impaled her, thrusting deep up into her defenselessly quaking 
belly. And with a final lunge, his hands grasping her shoulders and holding 
her helpless, Bill surged to the absolute depths of her feverishly throbbing 
cunt, the head of his cock roughly slamming against her cervix as his 
cum-filled balls smacked against her obscenely spread ass-cheeks. He lay 
heavily on Kris and rhythmically flexed his penis inside the tight wet 
sheath of her pussy. 

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" Kris groaned, rocking from side to side, feeling incredibly 
filled. Slowly the flexing of his impaling cock became pleasurable as the 
pain diminished and, with a sigh, she again locked her long sleek legs 
around the back of her lover. She arched her back and ground up her pubic 
mound that was sparsely covered with soft curly hair, and she felt the thick 
base of his hotly throbbing cock scraping against the tenderness of her 
clitoris. Slowly he began to fuck in and out of her quivering pussy, the 
length of his long hard penis almost withdrawn before he slammed it back up 
inside her now eager young body. Soon she was running her hands up his back 
to tightly clasp him around the neck as she softly chanted, "Eeeeeeee ... 
Oooooooo ... Mmmmmmmmm ... Don't stop ... Don't stop ... Please don't stop!" 

"Wow, you ain't kidding!" the straining man exclaimed as with all his force 
he fucked deep up into her wildly bucking cunt. "What a compact little 
pussy!" 

"You're filling me up all the way ... Eeeeeeee ... ," Kris cried out, 
clasping the straining man tighter. For the first time in her life she 
realized what the word "screwing" really meant, because with each lunging 
penetration of her vaginal passage, Bill was having to grind his hips and 
ream his way up into her dripping cunt. And he was good, perhaps even better 
than Stan had been. Beneath him she bucked like a wild woman as the soft 
hairy mouth of her pussy devoured his maleness wantonly. 

On it had been so long-so long she had almost forgotten how good it felt-why 
had her parents wished to deny her this pleasure? 

And yet nothing had happened yet inside her spent, perspiring body. 

Every few minutes it seemed the molten fire would begin to glow deep in her 
loins and her clitoris would come alive ... and then the heavenly sensation 
would subside into nothing more than the pleasure of having a penis in her 
once again. 

Time after time it happened as her lover of the evening relentlessly fucked 
her and she unfailingly responded. She had no idea how long it went on like 
this before his semen-laden balls exploded and his cock swelled and spurted 
his impatient cum deep up into her twitching belly, flooding her so that 
thick rivulets of the heated fluid oozed from her clutching cunt-lips and 
poured in a silver river down the widespread moons of her trembling 
buttocks. Kris held him tight, sobbing softly. 

How many times had she almost cum ... only to turn back ... this side of 
ecstasy! 

Melting, he drew back from her embrace, and with one glance into his eyes, 
she knew he figured out the story, even before he spoke hoarsely. 

"You never came." It was a statement of fact, not a question. 

"Listen, Bill, it's not your fault," she whispered as she drew him down and 
soothingly kissed his eyes and ears and finally his lips. "No one in the 
world could have done better ... it's me! Bill, that was the first time in 
years ... I've been on ice. Inside I'm just not the girl you see up there on 
the screen, in front of the weather map ... Actually I don't know who I am, 
really, anymore. It was no good ... but my head has a few loose screws. But 
I'm really glad I took this first step. Who knows ... maybe next time...." 

"I think I know how to tighten up whatever is rattling around your brain," 
he said. "Lemme give it a try!" 

Before Kris realized what was happening he was sliding down her sweat-soaked 
body and between her open-scissored legs. Taken by surprise, she was unable 
to react before his long, wet tongue was mopping her cum-seeping cuntal 
lips, alternately flickering like the wings of a butterfly over the still 
distended head of her clitoris and then plunging deep into the very depths 
of her softly trembling pussy. 

"Hhheeeyyy! Noooooo-don't do that!" the blonde-haired divorcee cried out, 
struggling. Finally, in desperation, she grasped his ears in long clutching 
fingers and twisted them painfully as she writhed out of his grasp. She felt 
his powerful fingers slip from the taut roundness of her rippling ass-cheeks 
as Bill Evans slid from the bed. "That's never been done before she 
muttered. 

"Well it should have been, long ago," he said abruptly, fingering a drop of 
blood on his right ear. Angry, he stood and then began pulling on his socks 
and quickly dressing. "What kind of parents did you have, anyway ... prunes 
whose juices had all dried up?" 

Bill didn't know how close to the truth he had come. Kris had never talked 
much about her childhood with the crowd at the station. Now she commenced to 
sob quietly as she turned over on to her flat belly, the firm cups of her 
breasts flattening on the sheet. She was blaming herself, not the young 
assistant director. He had only wanted to give her pleasure in a way she 
knew most people seemed to take for granted, and she had turned him off. He 
was slipping into his sports jacket, with one foot out the door when she 
turned on her side and tenderly called to him. 

"Bill ... please don't take it personally. It's like I've been at the North 
Pole for a few years and just the idea of a bikini sends shivers up my 
spine. And I feel like dirt because I was fighting off your sincere attempt 
to give me what I really want. Do I get a second take, or did I do so bad at 
the audition, you don't want to see me again?" 

Bill bit into his fingernail and looked down at the floor before answering, 
"I think you've got great potential, Kris. You're worth a replay." 

"Oh, thank you," she said gratefully. "Goodnight kiss?" 

He came over and bussed her, but only his lips touched her, and his tongue 
didn't seek hers. And then he was gone,, letting himself out. The big door 
clicked shut quickly as the breeze rippled through the curtains at the 
living room window. 

* * * 

For hours Kris lay awake, despite her fatigue, wondering just what was wrong 
with her. 

Bill had been more than any woman could ever have wanted in bed, especially 
one as horny as herself. It had been pleasurable having his long fat cock 
tilling her emptiness, yet she had been unable to reach the climax she 
desperately needed. 

Still, she could cum when the Honda was cranked on, throbbing and pulsing 
between her legs. Was this form of artificial masturbation, or the death 
wish? 

And in those furious minutes when his mouth had been glued tightly to her 
cum-filled cunt, sucking as his tongue swept her unabashedly. SHE HAD FELT A 
DEPRAVED DISGUSTING DESIRE TO LET HIM CONTINUE! 

She was sure that in minutes, his expert tongue would have given her a new 
lease on the life of her long hibernating sexuality that admittedly his 
obviously terrific penis hadn't. 

Kris had been exposed to bits and snatches of psychology when in school and 
knew the danger of just a little knowledge in self-analysis. But now she 
wondered if maybe subconsciously she was connecting Bill Evans with Stan. 

There was a slight physical resemblance-both were husky and muscular, and 
although Stan had been dark and Bill was a blond like herself, there was 
something in their bearing that was similar. They both exuded a cool 
confidence. Both lived beyond their apparent incomes, and Bill was just 
about the age Stan had been when they were first going out. 

Kris Anderson sadly decided in the dark of night she'd had been down this 
road once before and didn't have the slightest desire for any instant 
replays. 

But the night's events had finally made her face the fact that she had to 
have a man. 

One to whom she would be precious. 

Someone still young, who hadn't corrupted himself with bad habits. 

The morality of the situation was something she'd just deal with when the 
scene unfolded before her. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

While there were free goodies like the Honda that Kris got from her job, 
there were also the inevitable extra duties to be performed, the personal 
appearances, promotions and conventions that put her before the public and 
gave Old Cavanaugh a chance to show off the best-looking Weather Girl in New 
York. And she worked for his station! Just the sight of her was the best 
advertising he could ever get to attract new viewers, particularly the men. 
But the young women liked her, too. She symbolized to them the independent, 
good-natured type who wanted to get ahead in the career world, and if she 
wasn't exactly a Women's Libber, she did sort of stick up for herself, in a 
pleasing feminine way. In fact, Kris didn't know it, but she was the best 
thing the station had going for it, in the "image" department. Kris had the 
air of a winner! 

Today she had to represent the station at a national convention of 
automobile dealers. They were big advertisers and if just one of the major 
lines of cars decided to hook up with her station in New York, it would mean 
a fat bonus for Kris. As a little bit of amusement for the dealers' rounds 
of meetings about pollution standards and safety checks, the station had 
arranged an auction of old props, souvenirs of days gone by when television 
stations produced their own variety shows. Some big names had started out 
there, and the props were sentimental objects, as well as antiques of a 
certain type. The "Celebrity Auction" was attracting a lot of interest from 
the out-of-town car dealers. They milled around the roped off area where the 
old chairs, clothes, fake noses, wigs and other tools of the trade were set 
up for viewing in advance of the bidding. Hundreds, possibly a thousand 
prospective buyers crowded around the stage, looking about eagerly for some 
stars in the flesh. 

And Kris Anderson gave them their taste of glamour under the hot stage 
lights. She appeared on stage in a tight hot-pants outfit, flashing her 
professional smile. To her left, was suspended a huge revolving globe of the 
world. To her right was a miniature ice-skating rink, the kind they used to 
use on the big variety shows. The mostly male audience gaped up at the 
display, unable to figure out what was going to happen. 

"OK, gentlemen, before you get a chance to bid on these loads of souvenir 
stage items, we're going to have a little entertainment for you up here!" 
she said forcefully into the mike. "Now remember, all the proceeds of this 
sale will go to build the new Botanical Garden in midtown Manhattan, so your 
money is all tax deductible! Don't be afraid to pay a little bit extra!" 
Kris urged them. 

At this, the globe started to emit brightly reflecting lights over the room 
and the house lights dimmed. Meanwhile Kris mounted the ice-skating rink and 
with a purple spotlight on her sequined brief outfit, she treated them to 
some precision figure-skating. Her movements were slow and graceful, and not 
surprisingly showed her fine body off to good advantage! It was just natural 
to gaze on the shimmering form in the middle of the stage! Kris had been 
champion figure-skater in school, but had abandoned it when her parents 
started to pressure her mercilessly about grades, and she decided to spend 
all her spare time studying. 

The finale of her little act was a spin-and-jump routine and as she landed 
she grazed her leg with one of the razor-sharp blades. She felt the sting of 
the cut and noticed a red stripe on the ice, but she pretended nothing had 
happened and kept on smiling to the applause of the car dealers. 

One thing she had learned was that you can't stop in the middle of what 
you're doing. The illusion of show business requires that you keep up the 
act. The tiniest flaw, or admission of some error, destroys the whole 
mystery of the performance. And this little number was being taped for the 
station, too! 

She shut her mind to the pain and tried not to limp away from the rink as 
she returned to the mike. 

"You can find almost anything your little heart desires among the souvenirs 
at auction today, all donated by Channel 16, Your Friendly Neighborhood TV 
Station! Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't even bother to try to sell you 
professional hucksters anything. But I'm so sure you will appreciate this 
next item and I just want to make sure it goes to somebody who will really 
appreciate it! What we have here, to my left, is the actual, original globe 
that turned every morning for three-thousand, six-hundred and forty-nine 
mornings on the greatest tear-jerker of them all: While The Globe Twirls! 
Not I'm sure that if any one of you gents hasn't heard about the 
longest-running soap opera in TV history, your wives at home could tell you 
all about it. Now this globe, being modern and up-to-date, just wanted to 
retire, while it still had some pep! Hey maestro, how about a little 
international music!" 

And with this the globe shifted to center stage and a piano was wheeled out. 
An old man in striped shirt and suspenders began to bang out a medley of 
songs, each one with the name of a different city of the world. Kris 
Anderson was handed a mike she could move around with and started to sing a 
musical love-letter to the cities on the huge, turning globe. In an 
acceptable but not remarkable voice, Kris sang "I Love Paris", "Autumn in 
New York" and "Old London Town." 

To enthusiastic applause, which she honestly believed was for her legs, more 
than her voice, she bounced to the floor, with the traveling mike in one 
hand and a rhinestone weather wand in the other, her on-the-air constant 
companion, and launched into the hard sell. 

"We are opening the bids for this cherished piece of theatrical history-the 
actual globe that turned all those mornings-at one thousand dollars ... now 
we can't spend all afternoon on this, because there are literally loads of 
other goodies, so each bid will have to be in the amount of one hundred 
dollars or more! Do I hear two thousand? Thank you, sir!" said Kris, 
pointing vaguely to the rear of the crowd. "How about twenty-five? Do I hear 
twenty-five? I DO! Some real appreciators of video history here! Hey, you 
the good-looking fellow in the third row in the pink turtleneck, did you say 
three thousand? No? How about twenty-eight hundred? There have been rivers 
of tears cried as this very sphere turned before the eyes of the nation! How 
about it! Who said thirty-five hundred? Thank you sir in the yellow blazer! 
Now what we need is a real public spirited citizen who loves flowers enough 
to pay four grand! And how about your wife? It's a gift she'll never 
forget!.... 

Finally, to her amazement, the old tinsel-covered globe went for nearly 
seven thousand dollars. And then she had to go on with other things, but it 
was a beautiful start and had people in a bidding mood. 

Then as some youngsters were pushing the piano away and Kris had a moment to 
take a breath while the next items for sale-some high heels and an old fur 
coat, were being displayed-she felt the wetness of her calf. It was red with 
blood from the blade of the ice skates. 

"Why don't you get out of those fool skates, Kris." 

The blonde-haired divorcee looked around to find Rick Gordeli behind her. 
The waiter had come over to catch her act, as had a few others from The 
Control Room crowd. 

"Oh, I'll be all right, and besides, I'm supposed to hang around until after 
the auction is over," Kris answered. 

"Your leg might be all over by then," the slender young man said as he 
extended his arm. With hesitation, Kris slipped out of the silver skates and 
gave them to Rick. He handed her the long leather boots she liked to wear, 
having retrieved them for her from the small dressing room off-stage. "You 
want me to stow these somewhere? And you ought to do something about that 
cut." 

"Just stick them in my desk, back at the station, okay?" 

"Sure thing, and by the way, you ain't bad as a singer! See ya, later," and 
Rick hurried away. 

A doctor at the first aid station hummed quietly to himself and then dressed 
Kris' thin, but long, wound. It was not serious, but he told Kris to make 
sure she kept the surface clean until it fully healed. He gave her some 
shots and she went back to make a final appearance at the auction. She felt 
no pain, only euphoria. She knew she just wouldn't be able to do her regular 
show this night, and was thankful she had no special taping session or other 
commitments. Her young stand-by assistant would be thrilled at the 
opportunity to go on tonight for the regular weather spot, and she felt she 
deserved to go on tonight for the regular schedule she had been keeping. The 
long-limbed divorcee was near exhaustion when finally, in hopes of settling 
herself a little, she stopped by The Control Room, before she left for home. 
Rick Gordeli sought her out and waited as she described the day's events to 
a make-up man who had stopped in for a beer himself. 

Under the influence of the drugs the doctor had given her, Kris seemed to 
have Ferris wheels spinning in front of her eyes. She tried to move towards 
the door, out to her car, but she wavered and felt dizzy. Young Rick 
steadied her with his arm and walked her down to her Jaguar in the station 
garage. 

"Hey, that's okay, Rick, I can make it home all right," the obviously drowsy 
young beauty sighed. 

"Sure' ... the doc must of loaded you up with pain killers and forgot to 
warn you about driving. You'd probably get in a wreck. I'll run you home, 
Kris." 

"Yeah, thanks for remembering all that, Rick," she whispered. It was nice of 
the young man to look after her. "That's very sweet of you...." 

When they arrived, it wasn't a matter of Kris inviting young Rick in for a 
snack and drink out of gratitude ... the medication, combined with the 
exertion of the show that afternoon had left her unable to navigate, and the 
young man had to lift her from the car and steady her while she got her legs 
to function. Then, his arm tight around her tiny waist, he walked her past 
the mailboxes in the lobby and into the elevator. She swayed and stumbled 
against him and suddenly his strong hand was cupping her breast. In her 
narcotic euphoria, Kris wanted it to remain there. 

Once inside her apartment, where the air conditioner was keeping a 
comfortable temperature ... it must have been twenty degrees below the 
reading in the street ... Kris' body seemed to come on fire. Yet her mind 
was now crystal-clear, racing like it had the one time she'd experimentally 
sniffed some cocaine at a producer's wild party. The effect on her brain had 
been so profound she never touched any form of dope again. She even resisted 
medication by a doctor, and wouldn't have allowed the medic today to inject 
her until he firmly told her she faced the possibility of tetanus from the 
blade wound. And then before she knew what was going on, a succession of 
needles had been slipped into her arm and, immodestly enough, one had been 
jabbed into her sweetly rounded buttocks, accompanied by a slap to make her 
muscles relax ... or so the medic had claimed. 

"The Doc must have shot you up for everything while he had the chance," Rick 
said as he balanced Kris on her feet, his hand still grasping her breast, 
his fingers now closed on the rising nipple. 

"Corny old joke ... if they had stuck many more in me, I'd be stuck-up for 
life," she managed to say. "Oooh, I'm all sweated up! Rick, I've got to wash 
myself up ... and with all that dope in me, I'm afraid to be alone until it 
wears off. Would you mind ... would you stay here awhile ... and if you're 
not afraid of compromising your virility, water my plants and put the rubber 
tree on the terrace for some sun? The water can is on the little table in 
the kitchen. And say something nice to the tulips, I forgot to talk to them 
yesterday." 

Watering the plants was no problem, but Rick wasn't sure how to make small 
talk with the tulips. He knew some people liked to think their plants could 
somehow understand their kind words, but he thought that was a little weird. 
This dynamite blonde-haired tomato must be even lonelier than he thought! 

"Sure, Kris, no problem. I used to go steady with an apple tree. I know how 
to sweet talk 'em just right!" Rick reassured her. 

The tall, lean young man hurried to do as she asked, jubilantly. Finally he 
was going to get close to Kris Anderson, and she was vulnerable, loaded with 
medication. If she didn't get back to her normal senses too quickly, she was 
going to get the fucking of her life! He filled the watering can and went 
around to all the plants that looked dry, stopping at the tulips and 
muttered something about how he hoped that they had a nice day ... what do 
you say to a tulip? ... and quickly went on to the others. When he returned 
from the terrace, the rubber tree in full sunlight now, he heard bath water 
running. He wanted to voyeuristically slip the door open a crack and catch a 
glimpse of Kris' completely naked body, but he restrained himself. If he had 
any luck at all, he'd get more than a peek in a little while! He settled 
into the soft sofa and took time to plan his approach. He had waited too 
long for this moment to make any false moves! The sound of the water 
stopped, and soon, there was no noise of Kris splashing around. 

Kris had intended to shower, but twice she stumbled and decided a tub bath 
would be more relaxing. She ran cool water and carefully eased herself into 
it, slowly soaping the smooth curves of her slender, full-breasted body. It 
was a strange feeling. Her mind was alert, but her movements were 
slow-motion. Everyone of her millions of nerve ends seemed to be wired with 
tiny sensors. Her soap-slick fingers slid over the soft lips of her pussy 
and she thought she would take off, right out of the tub! 

Wryly she thought whatever the first aid doc had given her, he should bottle 
the mixture and put it on the market ... she'd be glad to do the commercial 
... and he'd be able to retire in a year! As she lay back in the rippling 
water, she thought of the young man who had been kind enough to take care of 
her when she hadn't had the presence of mind to take care of herself, and 
how it would be to make love with such an exotic-looking, considerate 
fellow. 

Despicable whore! she murmured, condemning herself for even thinking of such 
a thing with a boy who wasn't even twenty-one yet. 

Resolutely she rinsed and crawled from the sunken tub and furiously toweled 
herself dry. She looked for something to wear. Her dress and panties were 
reeking with the smell of her body and were already jammed in the laundry 
hamper, and there was nothing else at hand but a silk kimono. Trembling, she 
pulled it over her starkly naked body, knotting the belt, and then quickly 
slipped into her bedroom, thinking to grab something plain, like jeans and a 
loose old shirt. 

A dizzy spell hit her as she was rummaging in the closet, and Kris barely 
had the time to turn and fall across her bed before passing into a twilight 
daze. 

When she came to, she discovered with scarlet-faced shame that her hands had 
pulled her kimono open. One squeezed her left breast, and the other was 
slowly sensuously exploring the silky warmth of her cunt as she lay with 
legs lecherously spread wide open. Still not fully conscious, she shoved a 
finger into her seething pussy and moved it around, seeing herself lewdly 
reflected in the mirror. 

She groaned and then shouted softly as the narcotic-inspired reaction began 
to unfold. Like a storm at sea, her orgasm began to surge deep in her loins 
and she screamed out, "Ooooooyyyeee! " 

And suddenly young Rick was rushing through the door, his face reflecting 
fear and concern for her. Kris froze as if she'd been caught by the lens of 
a camera, still groaning softly, shame flooding her. 

"Mother of pearl!" the young man exclaimed. 

Before she could react and pull her dripping fingers from her juicy cunt, he 
had stripped off his clothes with the agility of a panther, seemingly in one 
smooth movement. His heavy young cock, pulsating with long-repressed desire, 
jerked as its thick veins pulsed with blood. His balls swung heavy in their 
sac at its base and the young man's lips were hungry as he dropped onto the 
bed beside the blonde-haired divorcee and grasped her in his arms. 

"Whoooooaaaaa ... Rick! Nooooo!" Kris. protested futilely, but her body was 
betraying her words and she was holding him close and searching for his 
mouth with her own, her tiny pink tongue flickering even as she felt his 
hand move over her satiny undulating belly to fasten on her vibrant breast. 
And she knew that her long, trim legs were parting to his other hand, as she 
feebly managed to protest, "We really shouldn't" 

He silently rolled her onto her back and, crouching between her wantonly 
clutching legs, began to lave the upstanding buds of her tingling nipples, 
sucking and nibbling, while Kris could only moan with increasing desire. 

She had never been as aroused as this ... Never! 

Weakly she tried to fight her burning carnal desire, but she knew the 
struggle had been rigged before it began. This was all wrong! What she had 
done with Bill Evans had been bad enough, but at least he was closer to her 
age, not a young boy! But, she knew, feeling the long, hot rigidity of 
Rick's youthful male member rubbing against her belly, searching for her 
loins, this was no dumb kid either! In years he might be, but not in wisdom. 
Kris had never been so hot in her life! He could do anything he wanted with 
her ... for as long as he desired! Just as long as he made sure to please 
her tormented pussy! 

"Rick ... oh ... baby ... Riiiick!" she gasped. 

For his mouth had left her wildly tingling breast just as the lewd contact 
of his finger rubbing tantalizingly against her clitoris was about to make 
her cum violently, and his tongue was slashing like a wet mop down her 
nakedly heaving body as his broad shoulders pressed her straining legs wide 
open, exposing the sopping pink lips of her hungry pussy. Raising her head, 
Kris saw and felt his probing fingers spreading her tender, hair-fringed 
cuntal slit ... and then his tan young face disappeared between her thighs 
and she felt his tongue salaciously licking at her vagina. 

Gently as the wings of a butterfly, his tongue fluttered up and down her 
pulsating pussy-mouth, and she thought of a hovering hummingbird as the wet, 
hot tongue-tip blurred over and around her aroused clitoris just before his 
sweetly moist lips closed over her tiny pleasure button and began to suck. 
At the same moment, she felt his fingers delve into the nakedly exposed 
crease of her widely stretched ass-cheeks and begin teasing her sensitive 
anus! 

This tonguing of her vagina was the forbiddingly shocking thing Bill Evans 
had tried to do to her, and then it had been nauseating to Kris. 

Now, it was the most wildly exciting thing that had ever happened to her! 
With bulging green eyes she stared at the young man's head bobbing up and 
down at her feverishly throbbing pussy, felt his tongue excite her like a 
laser beam flaring up into the charged depths of her cuntal passage and saw 
her silken bushy mound drawn up inside his voraciously licking mouth. 

The liquid sounds of oral sex filled the chamber. Kris completely left 
behind what she had been before. With a fury, she locked her thrashing legs 
over his shoulders, trapping his young face and even lifted herself up, 
offering her prize in shameless oblivion, as Rick's slithering tongue raced 
downward between her throbbing ass-cheeks and began to lave the tight little 
ring of her anus, finally thrusting deep inside I 

"Uuuuuuuummmmm!" she moaned, grinding lewdly against his searching mouth, 
and almost crying out in disappointment when his tongue shifted back up to 
her excitedly gushing pussy again. With his mouth glued to her sizzling 
clitoris, the young dark-haired boy slipped first one, then two, and finally 
three fingers deep up into her churning cuntal passage and began to 
finger-fuck her tender flesh. For a moment Kris' body went rigid, and then 
she began to buck uncontrollably as she screamed at the top of her lungs, 
"Oh, my God! I'm CUMMIIINNNGGG!" 

The sweet, sticky juice of her loins flowed into the young man's gaping 
mouth, and Kris thought her explosive climax would never cease. 

She thought it would scramble her brains! Wildly she pulled his head up to 
her wetly steaming hot cunt, and her long, smooth thighs shuddered and 
jerked with the force of her orgasm. 

The ravished divorcee was reaching ever higher peaks of lustful ecstasy when 
suddenly the young man broke from her vise-like grip and mounted her even as 
her pussy was grinding upward. 

With a single violent lunge he buried his virile young penis to the hilt up 
inside her wildly sucking cunt. 

"Aaaaayyyeeeee!" Kris cried out in surprised pleasure. 

She felt her tender flesh rippling, making way for his hot, mushroom-shaped 
cock-head and his thick, heavy-veined shaft. His semen-loaded balls smacked 
loudly against her distended ass-cheeks and the mingled cum and saliva that 
coated her blonde pubic hair soaked his black pubic bush as he ground his 
pelvis against her jerking body. 

The surprise came not from the suddenness of the entry, but from the fact 
that it hadn't hurt! It felt more beautiful than anything she could have 
imagined! Young Rick Gordeli easily seemed to be as big as Stan had been and 
as Bill Evans, but despite the fact that Kris had been willing and even 
eager, there had always been pain. But this young boy had prepared her so 
well that all she could feel now was pure, delicious sexual pleasure! 

Was it what he'd done to her with his mouth ... or the drugs? She didn't 
know, but she did know that she was still cumming more furiously than ever 
before in her life, and she wanted it to never stop. 

Clamping him tightly with long legs and clawing his back red with passionate 
scratches, Kris Anderson fucked as she had never fucked before. She tossed 
and rolled on the bed, lewdly crying out her desire, and she took delight in 
watching her loins wantonly heave up, the tightly clasping lips of her cunt 
devouring his reaming thick penis like a savage mouth. 

Rick felt like he had been caught in a sweet vise of velvet flesh. Marie had 
never been this good ... or Teresa either! And the teenagers he'd fucked 
were in a minor league completely. The young waiter held back, wildly 
ramming his throbbing penis up into the steaming depths of the passionate 
older woman, seeing her soft cuntal flesh moving in and out with each 
violent stroke, feeling her resilient breasts scraping frantically against 
his chest. Jesus, she was a hot one! He'd never had a chick cum so hard and 
long. The damn bed was sopping with her juices, and every time he 
jackhammered his turgid young cock into her, more of her liquid passion 
spurted from her pussy. Kris was groaning and damn near ripping the skin off 
his violently humping back; to hell with that, though, he could always grow 
more skin, but a hunk of tail like this was one in a million! 

Tight! Unbelievable! He had vowed to fuck the lovely, green-eyed weather 
girl until she was begging for mercy, but he realized now this was 
impossible. She was insatiable! 

"I'm gonna CUM!" Rick finally had to blurt out. "NOW, BABY!" 

With a cry of delight, Kris Anderson clutched her young exotic lover tighter 
and wildly screwed her spasming pussy up around his impaling cock, feeling 
the massive rod thicken and become more rigid than before ... and then there 
was the hot spurting of semen deep up inside her striving cunt as her 
internal muscles alternately clamped and relaxed, milking his jerking rod of 
flesh that had given her so much pleasure. She felt his molten cum streak 
like white lava from her vagina; it coated her thighs and ass-cheeks as 
their tightly locked bodies trembled together. 

She was dumbfounded. She could only reach between and gently caress his now 
empty balls while gingerly she kissed the panting young waiter, forcing her 
tongue deep into his mouth. 

Talk was the last thing she wanted to spoil her blissful mood with ... they 
could talk anytime ... but not now. There would be loads of time for that in 
the future. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Nothing seemed to be turning up roses for Cookie Miller. None of her 
churning teenage sexual desires were being satisfied. The little dark-haired 
dancer with full lips and melon-like breasts had endured a hard year. 

First she had been virtually raped by a college freshman at a drive-in movie 
after she had teased him too far, thinking deep kissing would be enough. But 
in the end he'd pulled her panties off, dragged her onto an old mattress in 
the back of his station wagon, pried her firm legs apart and fucked her 
painfully. Well, not "painfully" after the first minute or two, but the 
ruthlessly rutting penis hadn't given her much bliss either, and for a time 
she had withdrawn into herself passively, not dating, not taking part in the 
after-show parties with the others in the dance group she performed with on 
the show. This former party-girl had seemed to shrink into her shell. 

Finally, her red-haired dance teacher, a statuesque, woman of thirty named 
Miss Cox ... who was a confirmed lesbian ... invited Cookie to her little 
studio apartment for an after-class snack. Although she was a successful and 
busy master teacher of modern dance, Beverly Cox was well on her way to a 
master's degree in journalism, and it took her only an hour, plus an orange 
juice well amplified with vodka that Cookie never knew she drank, to get the 
young dancer talking. Soon she had the little teenage fleshpot writhing in 
naked abandon on the bed. And then it was only a matter of time to introduce 
her to the idea of reciprocating the pleasure and even being the aggressor. 
She implanted in the young girl's mind the firm conviction that men were 
only interested in using women. 

And then, Beverly had left for a summer stock job, and Cookie was without a 
girl lover. She was afraid to make advances to any of the girls she knew in 
the dance company. "News" traveled fast among the tight-knit group. 

But she found Kris Anderson irresistible ... she vowed to have her, by 
whatever means it took. And nobody could look askance at her hanging around 
The Control Room and making small talk with her from time to time ... all 
the gang from the station did it. 

She went with Rick Gordeli the night Kris was picked up by Bill Evans only 
out of frustration. It was pleasant, but a mechanical thing, having his hard 
thrusting cock up inside her warmly dilating cunt. But it didn't even come 
close to Miss Cox's tongue! 

She had stopped by the Celebrity Auction, even offering to help out ... the 
out-of-town salesmen wanted to see as many good-looking girls as possible 
... just to see Kris. She drooled when the blonde weather girl had whirled 
around the skating rink with her tight little outfit so high on her perfect 
legs that the soft circles of her ass-cheeks were exposed, and when Kris 
moved, the tight little panties she wore stretched and the light little 
hairs that bordered her tight vaginal slit flashed for an instant. 

Holy Moses, how Cookie wanted to taste that cuntal flesh ... even once! 

She had hoped to get Kris off-stage and maybe get something going. Thinking 
back, she'd only seen the ravishing Weather Girl go with one man. Just as, 
overdoing it, she'd put out for Rick that night, Kris might feel the same 
desires as herself, Cookie thought ... hoped. 

And then, damn it, a creepy guy had ruined it all! Rick was obviously taking 
Kris home ... a drugged Kris. 

If she had ever had the perfect chance, this had been it. 

Well, she could imagine what went on. She followed the Jaguar and then had 
been miffed because she could not get a clear view through the windows of 
the apartment and had to wait for hours before the damn waiter had left ... 
driving Kris' foreign car. 

Cookie followed him home at a discreet distance and watched Rick park the 
Jag in front of his brownstone apartment building and go inside. She waited 
until she was sure he wouldn't be leaving and then went home, her young cunt 
empty and aching. She lay awake in bed for a long time, making devious 
feline plans, discarding one, thinking up another, until she finally had it 
all worked out. 

She was pleased to hear on the TV the next day that Kris Anderson wouldn't 
be on for two days because she was on "special assignment" ... the station 
didn't believe in spoiling the image of its vivacious Weather Girl by saying 
she was under the weather herself. That evening, after finishing her routine 
at the dress rehearsal for the week's variety show, Cookie Miller returned 
to The Control Room resolved to do everything she could to make contact with 
Kris through Rick. While Cookie Miller was only eighteen and looked younger, 
she was blessed with a calculating razor-sharp mind. She was sure that 
unaided she would never get to first base with Kris. At this point, she 
couldn't even try to blackmail her, for she had nothing but suspicions to go 
on. 

So, that meant she'd use Rick, even if it meant giving herself to him again. 
She'd sock him with everything she had. 

As he brought her the filet of sole and a tossed salad the slender little 
dark-haired girl said, "Is Kris going to be all right? I thought you might 
want to get off early to play Florence Nightingale to her ... again. Is her 
leg healing properly?" 

"Why ... what the hell are you talking about?" the tall waiter blurted out. 

"Hell, you tucked her in for almost five hours-wouldn't a certain somebody 
just be tickled to know that!" 

She read the sudden fear on his face. For Rick knew that if his boss found 
out, there would go his lucrative position at the restaurant and his 
independence, his apartment-he'd have to move back in with his aunt and 
uncle. For it was strictly forbidden to socialize with the customers 
off-hours, and Rick knew his boss would feel betrayed by this infraction. 
And after all he had done for Rick! Taking him out of the kitchen and 
letting him work out in front. What could this hot little dancer be up to? 
She'd gone out with him that one time and didn't seem at all that interested 
in a return engagement. He doubted she was angry at him, and he recovered 
enough to say, "What's the story?" 

"You wouldn't want to continue this here," Cookie said. "I've got my rig in 
the station garage. I'll come back for you here when your regular shift is 
over." 

She let him stay puzzled. The young waiter was trembling when he finally 
left the restaurant and got into the coupe she drove. Teasingly, Cookie 
remained silent as she drove directly to his little apartment. Whooee! It 
was great to see him squirm and sweat! 

And then, with the door closed and locked behind them, she made the error of 
overstating her case, claiming to have actually observed what went on. Rick 
Gordeli knew it was just not possible for anyone to have seen through the 
window as Cookie Miller claimed she had. For one thing it was just too high 
for her. And besides, with all the plants and foliage in the front windows, 
he doubted little Cookie could have been able to glimpse much of anything. 
All she knew was that he'd spent a long time there. She could, of course, 
start rumors. But he knew he could always claim that he had just been on a 
little first-aid mission, not actually spending personal time with her. The 
young waiter decided he had to find out what was really going on. 

"You little twat, you're lying!" He went on to explain why he was sure of 
this and concluded, "Why?" 

Cookie decided her own best chance lay in a change of tactics-maybe she 
could enlist Rick's assistance. She decided to lay the truth on the line. 

"Because I want the same thing you do-Kris!" The firm little dark-haired 
dancer revealed matter-of-factly. "I'm a lesbian! Now don't go haywire, Rick 
... let me finish. You fucked her-I'm sure of that. Do you think you'll get 
the chance again? She was smashed out of her mind on drugs, remember? Even 
if you did her good, she'd be afraid of the unsavory scandal and losing her 
job if it came out, right? So unless you have a trick up your sleeve, you 
won't get any more, and you'd better believe it! Now, you can be my 
trick-and I'll be yours. I'll hit her with it hard and scare her into bed, 
and then you can do the same thing, the next time around." 

"I get it-share and share alike," responded Rick, who was hip enough to get 
the whiff of her plot quickly. The little black-haired beauty might be 
queer, but she sure could scheme like a pro. Funny about her being a dyke. 
The night they'd gotten it on together, he'd never had suspected. Instantly 
he decided to play it her way, but make Cookie pay the price, with a down 
payment on the deal. "Maybe ... now what do you need to know from me? And 
how much will it mean to you?" 

"Everything that really went on ... but no bull. It would blow everything if 
I try and confront her with something that she didn't really do. That would 
screw up the whole plan." Cookie breathed deeply and said, "I guess I'll do 
anything, that's how much it would mean to me." 

With a grin of combined victory and lust, the young waiter led her to the 
open sofa-bed. He lay on it, zipped his fly open and dropped his pants and 
shorts. His fully erected cock leaped out at a sharp angle from his groin. 
Cookie stared at it in revulsion as he looked lewdly, triumphantly at her. 
She knew she had to do what he wanted and steeled herself for the ordeal. 
Slowly she bent beside him and made herself take the long rod of flesh in 
her tiny hand and roll the foreskin back. The pinkish, swollen head seemed 
to fill her gaze and her sensitive fingertips could detect Rick's heartbeat. 
Her hand could not encircle the base where it extended from the curly mass 
of hair. 

The lesbian girl had unwillingly done this for him the other night. Then it 
had been necessary for Rick to instruct her, and he'd virtually tortured her 
into the oral act, performing cunnilingus on her as eagerly as Miss Cox 
until Cookie was on the verge of cumming, then refusing to continue until 
she took his cock in her mouth and sucked it. Then she had found it 
strangely exciting, and the way he'd so pleasingly fulfilled his end of the 
bargain once his cum had squirted deep into her throat had made the 
degradation seem worthwhile. Although contrary to her desires, he was far 
better than the rape she'd endured long ago in the back of the station 
wagon. 

Now the tiny pink point of her tongue flicked out and began to tickle his 
rubbery cock-head as her little mouth pursed in a soft, moist O as he had 
taught her. Methodically she licked the entire length of the thickly veined 
penis until it was slippery with her saliva. She heard the young man groan 
in pleasure. Gradually she worked his cock far into her mouth, her sucking 
lips distorted until her pert nose was buried in the masculine-scented hair 
of his genitals. Her shiny black hair began to rise and fall as her head 
shuttled up and down, his cock looking like a tree buried in her bulging 
mouth. 

And then an idea came to her as she remembered the way he had stopped her 
when she was right at the peak the other night. Well, what was good for the 
goose was good for the gander. Cookie's hair flailed as she urgently sucked 
and tongued the pole of hard flesh and finally felt it get even thicker and 
hotter and his balls were drawing up to his loins. In moments he would be 
spurting like a fountain into her grasping mouth. 

Suddenly she leaped away from him and quickly wiggled out of her short 
dress. She dropped her brassiere and retreated to a plump, over-stuffed 
chair, where she cuddled up, clad only in thin red panties. She lifted her 
hand as Rick began to move toward her, his cock shining with her saliva. 

"Nope ... not a lick ... not until you tell me everything that went on with 
Kris! What you did, where, what positions!" she grinned lewdly. "I didn't 
forget you did something like this to me. I'll finish what I started ... 
later." 

Rick Gordeli recalled once that he heard one of the other waiters say, after 
recounting a night with a nympho, that "A stiff dick has no scruples," and 
now he understood. He could have easily thrown her out the window without a 
trace of guilt! Devious little bitch! But she had him by the short hairs. He 
opened up to Cookie, and watched her mounting excitement, her nipples 
hardening and lengthening and her brief panties showing traces of wetness. 
He tantalized her with a lurid description of how he'd felt when he was 
between Kris's hotly grasping thighs and his tongue was slithering 
cobra-like up her juicy engulfing pussy. 

The colorful tale inflamed Cookie to the point that when Rick finished, she 
practically galloped across the room and knelt over him. With brutal 
urgency, visualizing this huge penis buried deep in Kris's tight cunt, she 
began to suck mercilessly, her lips tight as a rubber band around the 
pulsing shaft, her tongue eagerly swirling until in a matter of seconds, she 
felt his hands grip her head tightly as Rick fucked far up into her bouncing 
face, his manhood jamming deep down the back of her hungrily smacking mouth. 
And then the hot gushing of his cum was spewing onto her tongue, out of her 
head to run down her chin and drip onto her stomach as her head bounced and 
shook over his loins. Eagerly she drank the seminal fluid, her cheeks 
collapsing with her sucking, until there was no more and his penis shriveled 
in her tightly puckered lips. 

"I don't believe you're as queer as you say," Rick panted as the girl 
shifted to lie close to him. "No dyke could do a job like that!" 

Carefully Cookie Miller licked the silvery cum from her lust-swollen mouth 
before replying. "Maybe I'm just a red-blooded woman after all. I wasn't 
faking my feelings." Slowly she kissed Rick, letting him taste his own cum 
and whispered, "If we are going to be partners in crime, I guess I ought to 
tell you how I've gotten to be this way...." 

Hesitantly, almost shyly, Cookie told him about the rape, and then being 
taken in by Beverly Cox, and how she turned to him through bitterness when 
she saw Kris take off with Bill Evans. Then she said she had an idea. 

"Rick, I don't fancy the idea of being gay all my life. In a funny way I 
kind of prefer going down on you ... but I'm just not ready for a man all 
the way. If it was a choice between you and Kris right now, you couldn't 
compete. Let's face it, we both love her ... but maybe we can turn it around 
so we can all get it on together ... the three of us." 

"You mean, all at once?" the attractive young waiter said, a little taken 
aback at the thought. 

"There are loads of ways. I've got plenty of books and pictures at home. 
Just imagine the two of us doing her at once! I lick her pussy until she's 
flipped out while you kiss her tits and put that huge rod of yours in her 
sweet mouth!" 

"Oh, shit, she'd never go for that!" the young man said sullenly. 

"If she'll smoke a little pot ... sees me go down on you, she might get in 
the mood. You said yourself she's a little fireball when she gets going." 

"Well, maybe...." he confessed. "It might work." 

"You'll see, we'll pull it off." Eagerly she came close to him, straddling 
him and brought her hot young cunt down on his mouth as she said, "Eat me 
... eat me good, Rick ... I'm so worked up just thinking about it, that I'll 
cum sooner than you can say 'Kris Anderson, Weather Girl'." 

* * * 

Two days later, Kris Anderson found herself eager to get back into 
circulation. She felt fine, though a bit woozy at times, and she lacked some 
of her normal speedy drive. She figured she was feeling some of the fatigue 
from her normally overworked schedule, and needed this brief respite which 
she would never have allowed herself ordinarily. Her doctor said she was run 
down and kept her pumped full of various potions. A dedicated physician, he 
made sure a mechanic temporarily immobilized both the Honda and the Jaguar 
which Rick had returned while she slept. Kris blushed to think of how she 
had lasciviously given herself to the young waiter and the blissful pleasure 
it had brought her. She admitted to herself that it hadn't all been the work 
of the drugs. She'd wanted him, wanted his virile young cock fucking her to 
sweet rapture. She wondered where and how, at his tender age, he'd managed 
to learn how to be such a super lover. 

Well, it didn't really matter, for she could never let anything like that 
happen to her ever again! He was only a kid! Why, if it were ever 
discovered, she'd be shamed. Her budding career would be 
tarnished-permanently-and she'd have to leave New York in disgrace. 

Yet being with Rick had awakened something within her, Kris knew. The thing 
he'd done with his mouth! That absolutely settled it-she had to get herself 
a regular lover, and fast! Or she would not be able to resist the next time 
she saw the tall, handsome waiter. 

Bill Evans? He was only a few years younger than herself, but even though 
she hadn't managed to cum with him, he had been more than adequate, and now 
that Rick had released her from her prison of inhibitions, he might be able 
to fill her needs. He had been eager to lick her pussy, and she wished now 
she had allowed him to, because if he had, the truly degenerate, dangerous 
situation with Rick would never have occurred. Although Bill was only an 
assistant director at the station, he seemed to have enough money. He 
dressed well and kept an expensive sports car. And he seemed almost boyishly 
shy-certainly more so than Rick. 

She wondered again how Rick had become so skilled with women at such a 
tender age. She was amazed that his salary would permit him to entertain 
women who obviously allowed him to fuck them freely, but she guessed that 
times had changed, and sex could be thought of even after a coffee date. 
Kris watered and cultivated the dirt in her plants' pots, then took two of 
the pills the doctor had left for her on his last visit. Stripping off the 
jeans and faded shirt, she slipped into her brief kimono and went to lie on 
her bed. She knew that in a few moments, the medication would leave her 
drowsy. She turned on the TV and was amused to notice a video-tape of 
herself at the Celebrity Auction that the station was using to fill the time 
opened up by the cancellation by rain of the day's baseball game. She didn't 
mind being replaced on the Evening News, especially since she was being 
televised in a variety spot that showed off her other talents. 

She was watching her ice-skating routine of two days ago, when the doorbell 
chime interrupted her solitude. Slightly dizzy from the effects of her 
medication, she answered it and for a moment didn't place a name on the 
petite, dark-haired girl at the portal. Then she remembered the familiar 
face from The Control Room. Her name ... Cookie ... Cookie Miller. What in 
God's name could she want? 

Cookie fixed her little girl smile and at the same time noticed the dilated 
pupils of Kris's green eyes. Great! She was doped up again. It might not 
even be necessary to use the marijuana cigarettes she'd brought, rolled in a 
machine so they looked like any other cigarettes. Kris might be a pushover, 
susceptible to the elaborate plan she and Rick Gordeli had worked out. 

It amounted to a little friendly persuasion if possible. If not, then it 
would have to be stronger medicine, more forceful than even the doctor's 
pills. 

"Cookie!" Kris said, perplexed. 

"Gee, Kris, the gang is worried about you. I promised I'd look in on you, to 
just make sure you were coming along okay," the pert, buxom dancer said, 
smiling. 

"Oh, I'll be all right ... I guess ... just loaded up with pills. The doc 
thinks I need the rest anyway," Kris replied, sweeping her long blonde hair 
back. "Heck, it's awfully sweet of you to drop by like this. Come in and 
have a Coke!" 

Cookie couldn't take her eyes off the long, slender legs as Kris led the way 
to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and uncapped two bottles of the soft 
drink. She thought how it would be to have those tender thighs framing her 
face, and became more determined than ever that it would happen today before 
she left. Cookie had come to enjoy having Rick's thick cock spouting out its 
heated cum between her avid lips, and his skilled tongue in her pussy, but 
nothing could surpass the treasure barely hidden by Kris's kimono. 

The two young plotters had carefully planned their campaign to seduce the 
blonde-haired Weather Girl, scheming during one torrid, exhausting night. It 
would leave the older woman putty in their hands from that time on, 
malleable as bread dough and screaming for more of everything. Thinking of 
his anally-oriented aunt, Rick wanted to shove his cock up Kris's beautiful 
buttocks but decided to save that for a time of his own choosing, when 
Cookie wasn't there. 

After a long and detailed analysis of Rick's experience with Kris, the two 
young people decided that, in a drugged condition, Kris could be enslaved 
and bent to their will, if they moved stealthily. Not for just one night, 
but for years. 

Now, as she sat on the sofa with the soft drink, Cookie drew a cigarette 
from her purse and offered one to Kris. 

"I hardly ever smoke, I know it's silly," Kris said. "But I do have to think 
of my voice ... it's my bread and butter!" 

"You're kidding," her young visitor said. "Ann Margret would like to have 
your assets! These are very mild, the only kind my dancing teacher would 
even think of letting me smoke. Try one. It's a foreign blend. You have to 
inhale very deeply to even taste it. They're just something to do with your 
hands when you're nervous." 

Had she not been under the heavy medication, Kris would have suspected 
something in the admonition to inhale deeply and the mention of a "foreign 
blend". As it was, the implication was lost on her. She had no idea she was 
about to smoke potent Panama Red marijuana. When she coughed at the first 
lungful, she thought it was because she smoked so seldom. The beautiful 
young dark-haired girl beside her was puffing nonchalantly, and Kris 
followed suit. After a time, a euphoria seemed to inhabit her, and she had 
no hesitation in accepting a second cigarette. She began to float. Time 
slowed down. Eventually she realized their glasses were empty, 
half-forgetting she had even drunk anything. She stood up to refill them. 

She almost toppled over, but the pretty little dancer was right there to 
catch her. 

"Aaaaaaaaahhh...." she moaned. "The things these doctors give you ... I'd 
better just lie down...." 

"Sure, let me help you," Cookie said. 

The conniving little black-haired girl helped her to the bedroom, making 
soothing sounds, and Kris didn't resist as she felt her kimono being 
removed. The sheet was cool beneath her naked body and the room dimly 
illuminated. Her head was spinning and she vowed to take no more of the 
pills. 

"Feeling any better?" Cookie whispered. 

"Still a little light-headed," Kris managed to say. 

"Don't worry, I'll stick around for a while." Cookie slowly lifted her dress 
over her head and folded it over the chair. She bent to slip out of her 
panties, slowly sliding them down the taut curved columns of her legs and 
padding on bare feet to the bed. She nestled in beside the befuddled Weather 
Girl and molded her petite but voluptuous body closer to her, so that their 
breasts and cuntal Vees touched lightly, arousingly. 

Cookie brought her soft lips to Kris's ear and murmured, "My old man is a 
pharmacist. He says you can never be sure just what reaction some people 
will have to a medication ... that they shouldn't be left alone. So I'll 
stay with you until the effects wear off. If you get scared, just grab me 
tight, all right?" 

"You're a real doll," Kris mumbled in drowsy innocence. It did feel good not 
to be alone. She snuggled against the naked young girl, and it didn't seem 
strange at all to feel a slender leg work its way up her own and press 
lightly and pleasantly on her vagina, or a soft palm close on her left 
breast and gently spread the supple, tender flesh. Cookie Miller's breath 
was hot in her ear as she drifted into light sleep. 

Cookie was delighted with the way things were progressing. Now she could 
repose languidly with this blonde-haired beauty she'd coveted for so long, 
and when Kris had rested enough, would slowly awaken her in a way she'd 
probably never dreamed of. She'd get her so hot that with all her deeply 
ingrained morality, she'd never be able to call it off! 

And once Cookie had eaten her fill of the succulent cuntal flesh, Rick would 
appear and they'd put on the mini-melodrama they'd so deviously planned ... 
and then beautiful Kris Anderson would be theirs! Forever! 

After almost an hour, Kris began to stir in her clutches, still far from 
full consciousness. Slowly Cookie Miller began to kiss her half-open mouth, 
penetrating her tongue until Kris drowsily began to suck it. Lightly Cookie 
slipped a hand down between their tightly pressed bellies and her expert 
fingers parted the lips of Kris's hair-lined pussy. She felt the moist 
warmth and then, almost spontaneously, the undulations of the other woman in 
response to the titillation of her clitoris. Smoothly she slid down on the 
bed until she could smother the hot tip of a breast and send her tongue 
lewdly swirling around it. She was rewarded by Kris's hands groping in the 
dim light, finding her dark-haired head and pulling it closer to her 
quivering bosom even as Cookie's outstretched middle finger began to delve 
deeper and deeper up into her dripping cuntal depths. 

"Hey ... hey, what's going on...?" Kris mumbled, unable to focus her eyes. 
All she knew was that a deliciously erotic pleasure was surging through her 
body. "Aaaaaaaeeeeee!" 

"You were just having a bad dream ... now take it easy...." Cookie whispered 
back as she shifted lower on the bed, easing between the outstretched legs 
of Kris and bending hurriedly to lave the sensitive flesh of the 
blonde-haired divorcee's inner thighs with flickering tongue as her smoothly 
pursed lips rained tiny, tantalizing kisses between them, slowly moving 
upward to the sweet 'Vee' of her loins. 

"Oooooohhh...." Kris moaned, beginning to slowly writhe, still not aware of 
what was going on. It was like what Rick had done, but so much more 
teasingly, deftly, that it was incredible! How had he gotten into the house? 
She was sure she'd locked the door when Cookie left. God! After her silent 
vow never to have another incident with him, this was happening to her ... 
and she knew she couldn't stop him-even if she had really wanted to-until he 
brought her to that ecstasy that was almost oblivion! The teasing tongue was 
sliding up and down the torridly dilating lips of her pussy now, flicking 
and caressing her now aroused clitoris, and then swooping lower, only to 
burrow far up into her gaping cunt. Kris knew she was lost to her own lust 
as she wiggled under the passionate oral caress. Wildly she spread her legs 
and then clamped them tight around the madly licking face, trying to pull 
the hungry, searing tongue deeper into her passionate pussy. Her hands 
sought out the driving head and clutched it tightly to her dilating cunt. 
She went stiff for an instant and then cried, "Aaaaaahhh! Mother of Christ!" 

Her fingers were tangled in a pile of long, soft hair. She fluttered her 
eyelids and looked downward through the valley of her quaking breasts. It 
was Cookie, not Rick! 

"Cookie!" Kris screamed, seeing their reflection now in the big mirror with 
the baby-faced, black-haired girl kneeling subserviently between her 
clutching thighs, her mouth drooling, her eyes wide with desire as she 
passionately sucked on the flexing cunt. Kris realized she must have been 
dreaming when she thought Cookie had gone home. Now she remembered the young 
dancer lying close to her just before she passed out. "Oh, Cookie, what's 
come over you?" 

In her wildest, most sinful nightmares, Kris never had dreamed of anything 
like this! Making love with another girl! And yet the teenager had aroused 
her to the point where her pussy was steaming, and her body was writhing, 
wanting more of what her head told her was a shameful, depraved sin! 

"You wouldn't want me to stop right now, would you, Kris, honey?" Cookie 
said, knowing that no answer would stop her anyway. 

Again the coal-black tressed head went down deep between Kris's pounding 
thighs and her soft lips closed on the wetly pulsating cunt while her tiny, 
masterful tongue shot like a lizard up into the hot, excited pussy. 

Kris wanted to put a stop to this evil obscenity, but her stoned-out mind 
was unable to control her irrevocably aroused body. With a groan she again 
pulled the dark head tight to her cuntal 'Vee' and tried to shut her eyes to 
the spectacle. But with lewd fascination she had to watch every second of it 
until her loins seemed to explode and gush, and she saw the reaming young 
face suddenly glisten with her flooding cum and felt the torpid little 
tongue eagerly licking up every drop of the sweet fluid. For long minutes 
Kris lay with her legs widely spread while her lesbian lover curled between 
h ;r thighs, hands slowly massaging her hot flesh. 

Kris had never thought anything like this could ever befall her, but there 
was no mistaking the high voltage running in her loins. Through her 
drug-muddled mind flashed a question. How could men and women ever stoop to 
such perverted behavior? 

Bill Evans. Rick. And now even little Cookie. 

And why did she, who had always been so wholesome and normal in almost every 
way, respond with such unabashed passion? 

In her bewilderment, she almost wanted to try it herself, just to see what 
everybody thought was so great! 

She was sure she'd be revolted, but couldn't be sure yet. She eagerly 
welcomed Cookie into her arms and was tenderly kissing her, their tongues 
twining through wide open mouths, when the flashbulb went off. 

"That's great! I think you'll like this one!" said Rick Gordeli. shooting a 
second picture before the stunned Kris could unwind herself from Cookie. In 
the tussle, her mouth for an instant was pressed against the petite 
black-haired girl's cunt just as the second flash lit the room like a burst 
of Fourth of July fireworks. "Cuntsucker!" 

"You lowdown bastard!" Cookie yelled, leaping to attack him as they had 
rehearsed. "Cock!" 

His hand shot out and smacked harshly against her slender buttocks and 
Cookie yelped, and tumbled sobbing across the bed. 

Everything was just going fine, so far. 

Kris Anderson was bent naked on the bed, cradling Cookie in her arms trying 
to soothe the young girl. Her mind was in a fog, as the flashbulb went off 
still another time. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Kris was in a state of shock. In a few days she'd done things she had never 
before accepted as permissible ... certainly not for the kind of person she 
wanted to be. But, the crazy thing was, she discovered that the kinky 
conduct fulfilled a need which had lurked somewhere in her ravishing body. 
Now she had been trapped by her young waiter lover in carnal oral copulation 
with the beautiful young Cookie. 

Sooner or later it would come out. Rick's face was a sea of rage as he 
accused her, saying, "So, I wasn't good enough for you the other night! I 
devoured your cunt until you went haywire and then fucked you until you saw 
stars! I come around again, and catch you in bed with this little dyke! 
Well, the least I can do is have a little fun with this!" he said, waving 
the camera. "Pretty Kris getting her sweet little pussy licked by a teenage 
girl! Too much!" 

"Rick ... noooooo ... how can you do this to me? ... I beg of you," Kris 
sobbed, her world crashing down in ruins all around her. "Cookie just came 
by to see if I was okay, and this just happened!" 

"And I'll bet you loved every little cunt-lapping second of it!" he accused. 
Turning toward the crushed little dark-haired dancer, who was sobbing, he 
quickly slid his wide leather belt from the loops of his jeans and 
brandished it. Damn, she was even crying real tears! He thought Cookie 
Miller could be one hell of an actress as he growled at her, "Damn little 
dyke ... trying to take away my woman! I'll show you!" 

His arm raised and the flat of his belt snapped like a rifle shot across the 
soft roundness of her nakedly cringing buttocks and brought a blood-curdling 
scream from Cookie. Instantly, bold red stripes appeared on her ass-cheeks. 
Again and again the belt rose and fell until the pleading young girl seemed 
on the brink of collapse. 

Kris Anderson wanted to rise to her defense, but her drugged-out body was 
sluggish. She had no idea this scene had been carefully worked out in 
advance. The light was dim and she could not see that all the bold red welts 
weren't at all real but merely streaks of lipstick with which Cookie and 
Rick had coated the inner side of his belt. Actually, there wasn't a blemish 
on the petite coal-haired girl, and she felt no pain other than a 
delightful, arousing tingling. The tears streaming from her eyes were 
actually tears of laughter at the way poor Kris was going for their act! 

"Don't! Don't do that!" Kris cried, out, catching the flailing belt. She 
wished she could get to the door to whistle up the big bruiser who lived 
downstairs, a construction worker, but there was no chance for that now. 
Desperately, she threw her own tall body over the cowering little dancer. If 
anyone deserved a ruthless beating, it was her! "For Pete's sake, you'll 
kill her! Are you crazy?" 

"She tried to take you away from me!" the tall, hot-eyed young waiter said 
angrily. 

"No, listen," the stunned Weather Girl managed to blurt out. "It was 
something that just happened, by itself'!" She thought to herself with all 
the deviousness of her show-business mind, her flair for theatrics. She had 
to devise a way to rescue little Cookie, and obviously the only way would be 
to offer herself as a sexual sacrifice. She could understand why this 
over-sexed young waiter would be furious to find them in a lesbian embrace 
... he wasn't responsible for his conduct, so she would have to forgive him. 
Kris drew a deep breath and murmured, "Please don't hurt Cookie anymore ... 
I'll do anything you want, anything at all ... but stop hurting her." 

"Anything?" Rick said with a lecherous grin, and felt victorious as Kris 
submissively nodded her assent. He immediately dropped his trousers and his 
eagerly throbbing cock jumped out like a jack-in-the-box. It swayed and the 
bulbous cock-head bulged as he peeled his shirt off and, naked, joined them 
on the bed. He said, "Suck me ... the two of you." 

"Oh, Jesus!" Kris whispered. This was the thing she had always been 
disgusted by. Disgusted when her ex-husband had tried to make her do it, 
disgusted when her girl friends had talked casually about it, claiming to 
enjoy it. It was revolting, the whole idea! A penis in her pretty mouth! She 
groaned, "But, I never...." 

Then she heard Cookie's soft whisper in her ear, reassuring her. "We've got 
to, darling ... it's not so bad. Take it from me, it's a lot better than 
being raped the way I was once. Just take it easy ... I'll show you the way. 
If you see him in my mouth, it won't be so tough for you to ; follow. And it 
is sort of exciting, at least for me." 

The little brunette, with a wink at the reclining Rick, moved to kneel 
beside him, her hands slowly stroking his thick male organ, playing with the 
supple foreskin as she bent over him and began to softly blow her hot breath 
over the mushroom-shaped head of his virile young cock. Her pliant mouth 
puckered and began to kiss as the moist pink rosebud of her tongue slowly 
made a circle around his lust-swollen cock-head. Her lips ovaled and came 
down on it, and Kris was unbelieving as she saw the turgid cock disappear 
into the young girl's dewy, luscious mouth that just a few minutes earlier 
had been so eagerly pushed hot and tight against her cunt. She saw 
Rick-lying back, propped up on her pillow, grinning wickedly as Cookie, 
tears streaming out of her huge eyes, alternately sucked hard at the reddish 
purple tip and then with flicking tongue laved the length of the boy's cock. 

"Hey, I said both of you," Rick demanded. "Get to it, Kris!" 

Completely taken in by the lewdly laid plan of the two young partners in 
sex, Kris felt her heart going out to the crying jet-black-haired girl. No 
matter how humiliating, she knew this was something she had to do. She 
forced herself to kneel on the opposite side of Rick and touch his penis, 
that had once given her so much pleasure. It was hot and hard and slick with 
Cookie's saliva as she towered over it. Cookie halted her licking for a 
moment, just long enough to whisper, "Now just follow me ... do what I'm 
doing ... take it easy ... stroke his balls...." 

Blindly the blonde-haired woman nodded the acceptance of her degradation as 
she felt Cookie's hand guide her own to the pulsating penis. It took all her 
willpower to extend her tongue and haltingly lick the rigid rod. Then 
Cookie's hand was on her tousled head, guiding her up and down the thick 
length of it until, finally her wetly separated lips touched the throbbing 
head and her tongue was ringing it too. It seemed immense, but Cookie, 
murmuring quietly, was saving Kris' sanity with her soft caresses and 
skilled leadership. 

"Kiss it and lick it," the almost angelic girl said. "Then just suck it into 
your mouth...." 

Hypnotized, the half-drugged divorcee could not resist. She felt the soft, 
fleshy warmth of the tip against her lips and it had a pleasing erotic 
effect as her fluttering pink tongue swirled at first reluctantly then 
inquisitively, and finally eagerly around the rim of the expanded male 
organ. Yet she could not bring herself to complete what was to her an 
obscene, sinful thing, and she halted, poised over the boy's trembling loins 
as he stirred eagerly on the big bed. Now she was the one who needed help, 
not little Cookie. And Cookie provided it. 

"Go on down, honey ... go on down," she whispered as her hand pressed on the 
back of Kris' blonde tressed head. "All the way down...." 

Shaping her full sensuous lips into an oval, Kris yielded to the soft but 
insistent pressure. She felt her mouth stretching tight like a drumhead over 
the knob of Rick's warmly throbbing maleness and practically choked. But? 
unceasingly his raging cock was sliding into the saliva-filled cavern of her 
mouth, filling her pretty face, puffing out her cheeks. It looked like a 
column at the Greek Coliseum as her soft warm mouth went down and down and 
down.... 

And it felt strangely exciting, being subjugated, forced into something she 
had denied her husband. The sensation was nothing like she'd ever imagined 
... the heat and the hardness of the slowly thrusting spear, and the 
contrasting softness of the mushrooming cap. She shifted so she could 
explore the length of it with her tongue, and heard Rick sigh in pleasure as 
her hand, voluntarily, moved to caress his heavy balls. She imagined she 
could feel the hot semen pounding around inside the swelling sac. 

For the beautiful Weather Girl, this was an entirely novel sensual 
experience. She knew that by all moral standards it was wrong ... being in 
bed with two young people, going wild when cunnilingus was performed on her, 
now almost ravenous at her first taste of a man's ... practically a boy's 
... penis, while her tiny dark-haired accomplice played with her breasts. 

With a mixture of disgust and eager anticipation, she realized how this 
scene would end. 

Rick would cum in her mouth! 

Kris loathed the waiter for what he was forcing her to do, but 
simultaneously wantonly looked forward to the gushing climax with lascivious 
anticipation. 

"Work your mouth up and down ... but slow ... swallow him ... deep!" Cookie 
muttered in her ear. 

Enslaved by her own carnal release, Kris obeyed. Eagerly her soft lips rose 
and fell along the length of the lust-swollen penis while her tongue twirled 
around the burgeoning head on every upstroke. Abruptly, without reason, she 
was overcome by a desire to consume all of it, and her head began to bob 
furiously. She heard the waiter groaning as, quickly learning, she was able 
to gulp his cock avidly into the molten depths of her throat while her 
fingers rolled his cum-filled balls around. 

Kris could hear the wet slurping sounds of her reaming mouth as all sense of 
restraint and inhibition were lost. All she craved now was this beautiful 
pulsating cock between her hungry lips. 

The wanton divorcee had a conflict. She wanted desperately to taste his 
young virile cum ... but she wanted to keep him hard so she could suck 
through the night. 

"Ummmmm ... ummmmmmmmmm ... oooooooooohh!" Kris moaned in lewd desire, 
hearing the sinfully exciting sounds filling her bedroom, feeling Cookie 
caressing her trembling nakedness as Rick, now completely aroused and 
knowing his scheme had worked perfectly, began to fuck hard into the 
hungrily sucking mouth that slid up and down the full length of his cock. 
Kris was a wild woman! Hot damn, what a blow job, and her first time in 
action! He watched the pink inner flesh of her lips drawn out by the 
intensity of her sucking, and she was squeezing his balls so tight he 
thought she'd crush them in her unharnessed passion as the drool oozed from 
her cock-filled mouth with every demanding bobbing of her head. Her nostrils 
were flaring as she tried to breathe and, from deep in her throat, where the 
rampant head of his fleshy rod was pounding past her tonsils with increasing 
speed, there came a steady "Uuuuuuuummmmmmmm...." 

The precocious young waiter realized he'd gotten hold of more woman than he 
could handle. He tried to hold back and failed. The hot sperm exploded from 
his tantalized balls, surging up the thick length of his cock and began to 
spurt into her mouth. 

Kris felt it jet hotly into her eagerly sucking mouth, and her cheeks 
hollowed, clearly outlining his penis in her lust-contorted face as for the 
very first time in her life she tasted cum. It was so hot and thick and 
sweet that she ravenously tossed her head from side to side, sucking with 
all her being, not wanting to lose a single drop. She almost gagged and it 
tingled like fine whiskey in her throat as she gulped it down. It seemed to 
well up in her quaking belly like lava from an exploding volcano. 

For a long time she lay with her face buried in Rick's loins. 

His penis was becoming soft in her mouth, although he was jerking and 
sighing with pleasure as the exploring tip of her tongue wiped his genitals 
clean. 

In one section of Kris's mind, she called herself every kind of depraved 
beast she could think of. 

But in another compartment, she admitted that these two young people had led 
her to delights she had never imagined, and she knew her former strict 
morality was forever lost. 

Now, what was she to do about it? 

Answering that wouldn't be easy. In her still stupefied state, Kris was not 
at all sure of herself. She'd been led into this from the sheer ... and 
healthy ... need of a man after so many years of loneliness. 

And in less than two weeks she had finally yielded to Bill Evans, but her 
own hangups had prevented her from fully enjoying the union. Then, her outer 
shackles broken, she had turned on furiously when young Rick tongued her 
pussy and screwed her silly. Again, her first lesbian experience had been 
with beautiful little Cookie, who seemed to need love as much as herself. 

It had been ... been beautiful ... until they were surprised by Rick, and to 
save them both she had been forced to fellate him. 

And Kris Anderson discovered, she had turned out to be an avid fellatrice. 

Fellatrice? 

No, she admitted to herself as she finally freed his now limp penis from her 
strongly grasping lips. 

No, she liked to suck cock. And they had a name for girls like her ... 
COCKSUCKER ... that's just what she was ... a cocksucker! 

What jolted the long-legged beauty was not so much what she had done, but 
the bold pleasure she'd taken from the experience with oral love. Satiated, 
her sensually awakened body tingling, she still had no hint that the entire 
thing had been skillfully stage-managed. Sleepily Kris cuddled between Rick 
and Cookie. She just knew she'd be up to her eyeballs in regrets in the 
morning. She thought she must be half drunk or something, because her skull 
felt funny, like it was all made of cotton. She could hear soft whispers 
between Rick and Cookie, and then they were getting out of bed, leaving her 
alone. 

"Please don't leave me," Kris forced herself to plead, reaching out for 
them, but they slipped away. 

"Just going to snatch a snack in the kitchen," Rick said. "You want a piece 
of fruit or something?" 

"I don't want food just yet. But I would like it ... if you both ... could 
... stay here with me a little." 

"We're not going anywhere, honey," Cookie assured her, tenderly kissing her 
on the mouth, darting her pointed little tongue between Kris' cum-slick 
lips. "We're staying right here with you." 

In the kitchen, Rick and Cookie celebrated their success. They side-stepped 
the overhanging ivy leaves and made their way towards the stove, closing the 
kitchen door. They held hands as they walked and as the door closed behind 
them, Rick lifted the pert dancer and hugged her hard. They kissed fully and 
giggled into each other's ears. 

"Can you believe it?" he boasted. "God, she's OURS! I should knock off a 
quick fuck with you in here just to celebrate!" 

Chuckling, the coal-haired teenager lightly pinched his limp cock, as she 
said, "The way she sucked you off, that pecker of yours won't be up for a 
month. She really got into it!" 

"No fooling! I thought she was going to swallow it whole!" 

"She sure gets going, once you get her started," Cookie Miller said as she 
found coffee and a percolator and cold cuts. "You got your rocks off. Now I 
want that tongue of hers in my cunt." 

"And I'll put one there." The young waiter reached to massage her 
well-developed breasts. "Let's take a crack at it in the front room." 

"Hey, don't get me wrong, but I need a girl tonight ... a girl tongue to be 
exact!" 

"Well, whatever's right. Think we can get her to do it? That would be a real 
trip to watch!" Rick replied, his hands stroking the naked cheeks of her 
slender but perfectly formed buttocks as Cookie Miller sensuously rubbed 
against him. "She could be coming down any time now." 

"I've got some stuff from the old man's drugstore," Cookie told him proudly. 
"Two drops in a cup of coffee, and Kris would be ready to get it on with 
Frankenstein!" 

"Fantastic!" Rick said as the coffee started perking, adding, "You know what 
I'd really like ... I'd like to screw Kris in the ass!" 

From her purse which she'd left on the kitchen table, Cookie took a bottle 
of colorless fluid and squeezed two drops into a coffee cup, which she set 
aside. It was the one drowsy Kris would be coaxed into drinking. She said, 
"Do your thing right with me, and I'll let you have some of this stuff. I 
promise Kris will be begging for you, any way you want to do it!" 

"Just how nice to you do I have to be?" the young waiter inquired, smiling. 

"Just keep your tongue nice and juicy," she said with a wicked leer. 

Chortling, they drank their coffee and munched on cold cuts and crackers 
before Cookie carried the doped coffee to the bedroom, where Kris was still 
drowsily awake, thinking of what she had lowered herself to. She was afraid 
of going to sleep, afraid that it would bring on a nightmare. So she was 
relieved to see the two youngsters arrive with a steaming cup of coffee. She 
told herself she must have a heart-to-heart talk with them, make them 
realize that such a thing must never occur again. 

No matter how badly she might secretly crave it. 

Kris never quite knew how it happened. She figured the hot black coffee 
would clear up her head, but it only seemed to make things worse. The desire 
was rising in her again, and she found herself aggressively pawing the young 
waiter's unresponding penis, but there was no reaction. 

Fervently she bent down to take it into her mouth, used all her new found 
skills to arouse him, and still despite the sucking of her eager lips and 
the deft manipulation of her fluttering tongue, nothing happened. 

"Too soon, Kris," he finally confessed. "Why don't you do Cookie?" 

"Are you kidding?" the bemused blonde-haired divorcee mumbled, her drugged 
mind not comprehending his suggestion. 

"Give it to me the way I gave it to you," Cookie whispered naughtily and 
drew Kris' wet lips to the rising tip of her nipple. "It's nice ... you'll 
like it ... just try it once." 

From deep inside a small voice told Kris DON'T but she was only aware of the 
delicate hands stroking her naked body and the warmth of the teenager's 
breast pressed to her eager lips. She didn't want to do anything such as 
this, but the sweet scent of girl flesh filled her flaring nostrils. It was 
an aphrodisiac. 

As had happened with Rick, she felt herself being guided by the dancer's 
deft fingers while some instinct led her to lick and kiss the pale flesh of 
the coal-haired girl. Her tongue darted out, wetting the flat, silken belly, 
and Kris found herself instinctively sliding down between the slender, wide 
splayed legs as little Cookie drew up her knees and offered the softly bushy 
surface of her genitals. The fingers of her left hand slowly parted the 
pulsing rose-colored lips of her teenage cunt, and Kris' nostrils went wide 
as she caught the first scent of eager young girlhood. 

She could observe the pale, milky flesh bursting with juices and the tiny 
bud of Cookie's clitoris. Her little pussy was so beautifully ringed with 
curls the color of dark autumn leaves. For a long moment she stared at the 
quivering vaginal lips, and then it took only the gentlest pressure from 
Rick's hand on her head before with a tortured moan of hunger, she dropped 
her juicy mouth to the wide-open 'vee' of the teenage girl's pussy. 

"Uuuuuuugggg ... Cookie sighed as her thighs closed around Kris' beautiful 
face. "Aaaaaahhhhh ... honey ... your breath is so hot!" 

Kris was suddenly swept with a shame she couldn't overcome. Doing this 
obscene forbidden thing with a girl was even worse than what she submitted 
to with her virgin mouth to Rick. But she couldn't stop as her biological 
urges took complete hold of her mind and sensibilities. 

With her first sniff of Cookie's succulent young pussy, Kris understood why 
the raven-haired teenager was what she had become. And she found herself 
knowing intuitively just what to do. Her madly flickering tongue slid from 
side to side up the ragged flanges of the girl's cunt as Cookie almost 
hollered with pleasure when it came time for her to contact her erect 
straining clitoris for the first time. 

Kris licked furiously, her long tongue slashing up and down, even twirling 
sensuously around the tiny nub of Cookie's puckering anus. Fiercely she 
cupped the squirming soft buttocks in her hands and pulled the steaming 
mound of Venus tight against her mouth as her tongue found the inner folds 
of Cookie's wetly clutching cuntal passage and explored. She could feel the 
deep internal muscles sucking at her tongue just as she had only a short 
time before sucked Rick's hard young cock so voraciously. 

Clamped tight to her wildly bobbing head, Kris felt the sweat-glistening 
thighs of the young girl. She found herself pulling the clamping legs wider 
and burying her face in the sweetness of teenage cunt as Cookie surged up to 
meet her probing, bird-like mouth. 

"Eeeee ... ," Kris moaned in ecstasy as an uncontrollable thrashing shook 
the youngster and then there was a great gush of sweetness, like syrup, 
flowing into her siphoning mouth and she was urgently licking and tasting 
every bit of it. "Uuuummmmm!" 

Kris had completely forgotten Rick was in the bed with them, until suddenly 
she felt his fingers slide deep into her cunt. Instantly it triggered her 
own wanton orgasm as she licked the delicious young pussy even more 
furiously. She didn't slow her oral loving for a second even when the finger 
moved from her pulsing cunt, up the nakedly spread cheeks of her ass and 
ruthlessly burrowed into the tight little ring of her rectum. She was so 
wild with desire that she found herself grinding back against it until it 
was sunk to the hilt in her warm, wet rear passage, twisting, stretching 
her. She was aware that the reaming joint hurt, but she didn't care. It was 
making the sensations she felt from her wetly sucking lips and probing 
tongue all that more exquisite. 

Finally it was the blissfully satisfied Cookie who cried out and begged her 
to stop. Kris' sensuous mouth and exploring tongue were exhausted, and as 
Rick's finger slid from her madly gyrating ass-cheeks, out of her anus with 
a lewdly popping sound, the older woman collapsed between the young girl's 
wide-spread legs, her brain a muddled haze. 

She had never imagined sex could be like this.... 

Expired, Kris quickly fell asleep, without realizing that the two young 
accomplices were quietly dressing and departing. 

* * * 

The sound of her alarm going off awoke Kris Anderson in the morning. For a 
time she lay in bed, her mind wandering around, aimlessly. She knew 
something had happened during the night. There was a tingling in her loins, 
and for some reason her lips were swollen and there was a milky sweetness in 
her mouth. It took some effort to recall. She knew she hadn't been drunk. 
She had no headache, no hangover, but it was all murky. She breathed deeply 
and the undeniable aroma of sex filled her nostrils. 

It came back slowly to her, like the memory of a horror-movie. 

It couldn't have happened! 

Yet there were the expended flash bulbs on the floor to confirm her 
kaleidoscopic recollections. 

She recalled innocent-looking Cookie arriving. And then having a smoke with 
her ... and then somehow they were in bed and Cookie was between her legs 
and a tongue moistly dipping into her pussy. She associated a wild carnal 
pleasure with this. 

And then bright lights flashing-the camera-oh God, Rick! 

The two lovers both in bed in with her. Cookie breathing in her ear ... and 
then her mouth filled with the young waiter's penis and finally the sweet 
bursting of his delicious young cum. 

And then she doing to Cookie what Cookie had done to her! 

It had to be the nightmare of the century. Kris wanted to scream. What in 
the heavens had come over her? 

She prayed it was all hallucination brought on by the medication she was 
taking for her run-down condition and the blade-wound on her leg. But the 
discarded flashbulbs told her it had been real. 

In a fog, the dazed divorcee stumbled into the bathroom and quickly 
showered, hoping to snap out of her stupor. Then she busied herself with 
dusting her plants and finally sat down to a cup of coffee. As she sipped it 
and the caffeine surged into her bloodstream, the vivid details came back to 
her in shocking brilliance. With the drug dissipated, she began to piece it 
all together, her subjugation and the debasement by the young lovers she had 
thought were innocent. 

What terrified her most of all was her memory of how she had become such an 
eager participant, overwhelmingly fulfilled in ways which she had never 
thought possible! 

God rescue me! the troubled woman sobbed as suddenly she realized this was 
not something from which she could run. 

Her deeply buried carnality had been brought to the surface after all these 
years. If she quit her job and went to another town, even another country, 
the same thing would happen again only with a different cast of characters. 

Well, in a place like France, far-out sex was the accepted thing. 

But not with young girls and young men, and Kris was sure, that no matter 
how much she tried not to, they were the ones she'd seek out. 

A shrink? No! She knew that therapy, even if it worked, would take weeks, 
probably months, and the temptations during that time would be too great. 

She put her hands to her cheeks and cried. 

The persistent ringing of the doorbell snapped her out of her crying fit. 
Belting her kimono around her supple body and dabbing at her eyes, Kris went 
apprehensively to answer it. It might even be the police coming to take her 
away. But it was a grinning Bill Evans clad in the latest sports shirt, 
slacks and boots right out of the pages of Esquire. His green Porsche was 
parked in the drive. For a moment she stared at him silently as his eyes 
took in her luscious figure. 

"How'ya feeling, tiger?" the tall, blue-eyed young man asked. "Your phone is 
out of order-some drunk must have side-swiped a pole-so I came over to give 
you a little cheer!" 

"A little cheer?" Kris said, bewildered. 

"Well, you know, I heard you were a little under the weather." 

"Thanks a lot, Bill, but it really wasn't necessary. I just need a lot of 
rest," Kris answered, trying to remember her social graces. 

"And besides, I needed an excuse to see you again," he said, smiling cutely 
even as he looked down into the soft crevice of her half naked breasts. He 
thought of how good she had been in bed, and how he had been unable to bring 
her to orgasm, and the one thing he had to do was to prove he could. "You 
are feeling better, I hope?" 

"I never felt that bad," Kris said, brightening because just talking to Bill 
took her mind off the nightmare of sex. "It was just a little cut really ... 
and the doc said I was pooped out." 

"I hear the medic says you should lay off a week. He says you could get 
something serious, if you don't build up your resistance." 

"If he says that, he's a quack!" Kris blurted out. "I feel just great now!" 

"Perhaps, but just listen to yourself." Bill pushed the button on the 
portable tape recorder on his shoulder. "Sounds like your really uptight!" 

Kris listened, and had to admit Bill was right. Her usually husky relaxed 
voice was blurred and harried, the consonants unclear. The medication she'd 
been given had messed up her voice. She couldn't go on the air until it had 
completely run through her body. Dejectedly she said, "But what will the 
station say to explain my absence?" 

"Your understudy is just tickled to work for you ... and your 'special 
assignment' has just taken longer than the two days originally scheduled!" 

"Oh, wow! That's great!" she said in genuine relief. "Have some coffee while 
I get dressed." 

The distressed Weather Girl was suddenly in good humor. The surprise visit 
from Bill had almost, but not totally, wiped the memory of the previous 
night from her mind. And the doctor's examination Bill had arranged for that 
afternoon, had eased her mind further. The doc checked her carefully and 
pronounced her fit, not in need of any more drugs and the wound on her leg 
seemed to be healing normally. But he seemed mildly concerned after a close 
look into her eyes. 

"Miss Anderson ... by any chance have you taken any drugs other than those 
we gave you?" he asked. 

"Of course not," Kris said, sincerely believing she was speaking the truth. 
"Not even aspirin, why?" 

"Your pupils are dilated. Well, that could be a side effect of what I gave 
you. If you feel a headache coming on, I suggest you wear sun glasses for a 
couple of days." 

The long legged young television personality thanked him and left, suddenly 
realizing her eyes were smarting. Bill stopped at the drugstore long enough 
for her to buy shades and then took her back home. 

"You must be feeling a little stir crazy," he said. "How about dinner out 
on-the-town with me tonight?" 

"Gee...." Kris really didn't feel in the mood for going out. But even less 
appealing to her was the idea of staying home with her morbid reflections. 
And if Bill made love to her, it might wash away some of the partial 
memories of the sordid sex with Cookie and Rick. "All right. I'd be 
delighted! How about coming back around seven-thirty? I'll try and pull 
myself together by then." 

"You'll be fine, just the way you are," he said warmly as he dropped the 
gear shift into first and sped away in the sleek sports car, stirring up the 
dirt with the traction of his rear tires. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

The afternoon dragged on endlessly for the perplexed young woman, and 
several times she wished the big motorcycle and the Jag hadn't been taken 
out of commission. Yet she realized it was for her own good, because her 
eyes were still huge, overly sensitive to light, and didn't seem to focus 
just right. She knew she might hurt herself if she tried to drive. The 
plants and dowers, which normally gave her so much pleasure in her idle 
moments at home seemed to be a ludicrous intrusion to her thoughts. 

It was futile of her to attempt to erase the passion of the night before out 
of her mind. The more she thought about it, the more dismayed Kris became as 
slowly returning details floated into her conscious mind. She knew she must 
really have been out of her skull and, of course, she would make sure 
nothing like that would ever happen again. 

What alarmed her was the spontaneous-almost mindless-arousal that pounded 
through her voluptuous body, the excitement in her loins, that came from 
just thinking about having her ravenous mouth so deliciously filled with 
young Rick's penis and finally becoming an eager depository for his spurting 
cum. 

And even more depraved, she delighted at the thrilling sensation of little 
Cookie's smooth teenaged thighs enclosing her face as her tongue wormed its 
way into the sweet little slit of the raven-haired girl's sweet-morsel of a 
cunt! 

For Kris, the depth of her shame and degradation was an emotion she had 
never felt before. There was no way to rationalize her vile deeds, even by 
blaming them on the medicine which had been given to her. With her 
upbringing she should have been able to resist, even subconsciously. But a 
well of erotic passion had been tapped. 

The only good thing she could see in it was that it disclosed her inner 
nature and perhaps prevented some even more serious misdeed from happening 
in the future. 

Kris realized she had been a fool to deny her body's needs and hungers all 
these years just because of an unfaithful husband. She knew that for a long 
time she would not be able to even consider the possibility of marriage 
again because the hurt ran deep in her. But there was now the knowledge that 
sex could be enjoyed in a variety of ways. And in today's permissive 
society, nobody would be likely to castigate her if she found a decent man 
and simply lived with him. 

Kris knew she would have to do this, or risk falling into the lust-starved 
trap of her awakened flesh again. 

To occupy her mind she caught up on her domestic duties and then began doing 
some voice exercises and practiced some dance routines. Who knew when 
stardom might beckon her in the form of a role in a Broadway musical? Then 
it was time to bathe and dress. She put on one of her most dazzling outfits, 
a mini-sheath with low cut front that left her firm full melon-shaped 
breasts exposed almost to the tender buds of her nipples. She brushed her 
mass of blonde-sunny hair until it gleamed and then slipped on soft leather, 
calf-high boots with high heels that complimented the long slender curves of 
her legs. 

As she studied her dazzling reflection in the bathroom mirror, Kris wondered 
if the outfit was too daring. It was one she wore for personal appearances 
on behalf of the TV station, but that was a professional thing. She knew a 
lot of her "fans"-and not just the men-came to see her not to talk about the 
weather, but to ogle her. Well, after all, she was in show business, Kris 
reckoned. She decided to wear the daring dress. 

With relief Kris learned, Bill was taking her to a small but very exclusive 
dinner house miles out of town in the country. She had always wanted to go 
there, but being the social loner she had been, it wouldn't have looked 
right to appear at such a place solo. Her mouth watered as she looked over 
the list of delicacies-Chateaubriand, pheasant under glass, Maine lobster, 
quail, frogs legs and numerous dishes with exotic French names she could 
hardly pronounce, much less know what they were. She noticed no prices were 
listed on the menu and figured Bill was going all out to impress with this 
high-class dinner. 

The blonde-maned Weather Girl found herself puzzled. She knew that with her 
talent fees and the salary from the TV station, she had an income five times 
that of the lean young man across the table in the dim lighted booth. She 
was well aware of how inflation and taxes ate into her paycheck-so how could 
a mere assistant director afford to bring her to such a quietly extravagant 
place? 

And how could he afford the Porsche? She'd had a glimpse of the registration 
clipped to the sunshade. There was no finance company or bank listed-Bill 
was full owner. Even with his tinkering with old cars, they just didn't 
bring in the kind of money she saw him throw around. 

And how come he never talked about himself or his family? 

Kris Anderson decided the smiling, blue-eyed figure across the table was an 
enigma. 

"What'll you have?" he asked, smiling easily. 

"I'll take one of each, it all looks so good," she said quickly. "But the 
tab here is going to spoil the whole pleasure." 

"Hey, don't you worry about that. Let's just say I had a lucky day at the 
race track," he said, his white teeth flashing as he joked. "Why don't you 
allow me to order." 

"I'm afraid you'll take what I said before seriously and actually order me a 
little of everything!" Kris teased him. 

He nearly did just that. Course after course appeared. An aromatic onion 
soup, a plate of vegetables and exotic trimmings, broiled fish in a heavenly 
wine sauce and a steaming baked potato whipped and fragrant with cheese to 
flank; and then the main course, a huge pink-rare Chateaubriand which the 
distinguished waiter carved from a silver cart with the deftness of a 
surgeon. And with each course had been the wines, each superbly suited to 
the food. Later, a bowl of fresh fruit, served with an assortment of a dozen 
cheeses, fresh strawberries in whipped cream and a Chantilly cake so tender 
that Kris had a crazy urge to toss it towards the ceiling and watch it float 
slowly down to her. 

The nature of her work had trained Kris to notice little things such as body 
language, in which the folding of an arm, the movement of a hand across the 
face, the posture one took while seated, the back and forth movements of the 
trunk. But above all, eye movements said more than long strings of words. 
And this delightful dinner was pregnant with paradoxes. 

Although the headwaiter had greeted them like any other diners who could 
afford the exquisite food and quietly sumptuous surroundings, he had 
escorted them to what was obviously the most desirable and most private 
booth, overlooking a huge stone fireplace where the flames battled against 
the soft whisper of the air conditioning. No waiters, hovered, but no sooner 
had they finished the course before them when the dishes and glasses were 
cleared away and the next one was served. 

And when Bill Evans was selecting the wine, even as he requested the 
sommelier to suggest the best vintages, she saw his finger dancing over 
the-list and almost imperceptible nods from the quietly dressed man with the 
chain and key around his neck. 

Kris made a snap judgment. She was escorted by a handsome young man who had 
a lot of money and for reasons of his own didn't want her to know much about 
it. Although overcome with curiosity, she had sense enough not to pry. If 
and when Bill wanted her to know, he would tell all. 

As they finished the sumptuous feast, a balding man began to play an organ 
Kris hadn't even noticed before. There was a small, barely lighted dance 
floor and wordlessly Bill took her hand and led her to it. The music was 
soft and low-what a relief from the hard, jarring sounds that filled the 
airwaves these days. With a sigh she fit her body to his as they began to 
move gracefully. Her breasts seemed to be on fire, and she could feel the 
long rigidity of his penis rubbing against the softness of her belly and his 
leg sliding teasingly between her own. He nuzzled against her ear and 
whispered. 

"I don't have to ask if you liked ... you didn't leave enough for the 
kitchen cat to get a lick." 

"Aaaaah ... if anything but bare bones was left on a plate here, I would 
feel like I was insulting the chef," Kris murmured, holding the tall young 
man tight. It was so good to be with him ... so normal and healthy after 
what she'd gone through. She thought he might even save her from herself. 
She felt tears begin to flow down her smooth cheeks and impulsively she 
pulled his head down and kissed him fully, probing his hot mouth with her 
tongue as his arm pulled her closer and his hand slowly moved down her bare 
back to the cheeks of her quivering buttocks. She felt the stiff rod of his 
manhood grinding against her hotly dilating vagina as his tongue danced with 
hers passionately. The fire built within her, and abruptly Kris Anderson 
made the most impulsive decision of her life. Haltingly she breathed, 
"Bill...?" 

"Hey, honey ... what are you crying for?" he asked. 

"You'll probably think I'm acting like a tramp!" Kris whispered. "But-you 
see-something happened to me. I can't really tell you about it yet. Maybe 
I'll never be able to tell you about it all ... but would you mind staying 
with me tonight?" 

"Are you kidding ... sure!" he responded. He knew whatever it was it must 
have been pretty bad. Kris wasn't the sort who went around propositioning 
guys, even if they drove a Porsche and could lay out for a dinner that was 
going to cost three hundred bucks! He swallowed hard and managed to say, 
"Sure ... any night you want, Kris," he murmured in her ear. "And this time 
I'll be better than last time. Trust me." 

"It's not for the sex," the long-legged ravishing blonde said. "I-I don't 
even know if I could face it. But I'm afraid of going back to the apartment 
and staying alone ... not of somebody hurting me ... but of myself!" 

"Sure, kid," Bill said, totally confused. "Do you want to split from here 
now?" 

"Nooooo ... not at all, I want this night to last forever. It's the nicest 
thing that's happened to me in years...." 

And it was well past midnight before the powerful Porsche pulled away from 
the restaurant. 

* * * 

"Now just where in God's green earth could she be?" Rick Gordeli spit the 
words out and flipped a cigarette from the window of Cookie's car. "For 
Pete's sake, her car and bike are here. She sure didn't go for a little 
stroll anywhere this late at night." 

"She could be on a date," the little dark-haired girl reflected. 

"Are you kidding? The way we did her in last night, Kris shouldn't be able 
to walk to the bathroom for a week. Man, that broad, we had her cumming for 
hours, between the two of us!" 

"Maybe she freaked out when she woke up this morning, and took off!" 

"Nah, Kris ain't the type to run scared. I know her," he disagreed. 

"Well, nothing to do but wait then, I guess," Cookie said. She reached under 
the seat and brought out a cigarette pack. "You wanna smoke a joint?" 

"Anytime," the young waiter said. "Good stuff it is, too." 

Cookie lit up. The pungent fumes of marijuana filled the car, as the joint 
was passed ritually back and forth. Still there was no trace of the sensual 
older woman. 

As Cookie flicked the last tiny fragment from her jeweled roach clip she lay 
back on the seat and her hand moved slowly until her roaming fingers slid 
between the soft, hair-ringed lips of her young pussy. The long vigil, the 
anticipation of another trio with Kris, had stimulated her to the point 
where her thousands of nerve ends were alive with excitement. She forced her 
hand under the tight elastic of her sheer undies and allowed the euphoria of 
the genital contact blend with the effects of the marijuana. 

"Hey, Rick," she said in her most coquette-like voice. "You want to ball 
while we're waiting? We might be here quite a long time." 

Hot damn, she was a fast little number, and he did get a special kick out of 
making les chicks do tricks, Rick thought. Her short skirt was pulled up 
over her hips and she was fingering herself obscenely. It was a hell of an 
enticing offer, but finally Rick mumbled, "Nah ... a girl can go all night, 
but it takes time for a guy to get it up. What I got I want to hold onto for 
Kris. And anyway, I thought you didn't get off on doing it with guys ... 
fucking, I mean." 

"I guess I'm starting to like it fine," the jet-black-haired young dancer 
said with a giggle. "But I know what you mean." With a little squirming 
around she was able to pull her panties off and lay back, delicately formed 
her legs lewdly open, the moon shining down on the dark hairs of her young 
pussy. "You do a favor for your fucking-buddy? How about eating me out?" 

"Hot little twat," he said as he maneuvered around and went down on his 
knees on the floor of the car. Eagerly she grasped his long hair and pulled 
his face in between her trim thighs. His tongue began to dig into the tender 
lips of Cookie's swelling pussy and he could hear her sigh in pleasure. 

In a way it was double the pleasure, having a dynamite girl who would go 
both ways. Watching Cookie and Kris had really given him a charge. And hell, 
if Kris didn't ever get there and they finally gave up, well, Cookie was far 
out as a stand-in for the newly initiated Weather Girl. Even with all her 
wildness. Cookie just didn't make it to Kris's level of abandon, but she did 
know how to suck cock. And thinking of Teresa, he wondered if he could talk 
Cookie into kneeling over the seat divider and taking it in the ass. It was 
petite, but he'd never seen any better. Oh, well ... He poked his tongue 
into her wetly twisting pussy and heard Cookie groaning in delight. 

* * * 

Bill Evans and Kris didn't notice Cookie's car parked on the dark street 
opposite the apartment house. They had eyes for only one thing-each other. 
The romantic atmosphere of the restaurant, the delectable food, had brought 
Kris to impatient sexual readiness, yet she was troubled. On this night she 
had come to really feel something for the tall, blond-haired assistant 
director and within herself, she felt that just going to bed with him, to 
fuck, would in an odd way be like cheating. Kris knew he felt much more than 
just an animal desire for her. And if she allowed things to go too far, he 
might even get the idea he was in love with her. 

And how could she; let him get that far in his feelings for her without 
being totally honest ... even to telling him about her night of immorality. 

If she could only find the courage to tell Bill what she was really like, 
she was afraid she might lose him. He would never understand. The best she 
thought she could hope for was that he might agree to some sort of 
agreement. That he would promise-she had to force the blunt word into her 
mind-to FUCK her. Fuck her fully and often enough so she could keep her 
lecherous desires in check, not go around seducing teenagers. 

If he would take her on those terms ... it might just work. She would just 
have to chance spilling everything to him, or she knew she'd never be able 
to let herself go and cum wildly as she had the previous night. 

And Kris was not sure of just what he was. He certainly had to be more than 
an assistant director at the station, to support his car and take her to the 
most expensive restaurant she'd ever seen. Flashing a card, Bill had merely 
signed the check-another giveaway that he must be known there-and she'd had 
a quick glimpse of the total. Including the tip, it came to two hundred and 
eighty dollars! 

In the apartment, the dimly lit spaces sent shivers up her spine. She was 
very glad to have Bill with her tonight. She still didn't feel recovered 
from the after-shock of the bizarre initiation she had received the night 
before. She looked hurriedly at her mail, but decided this was no time to 
look at bills-and that was all she ever got. 

Looking up, she turned to see Bill coming to her. She walked into his arms 
and sought his mouth with hers. She couldn't help but grind her thinly clad 
body against the heat and rigidity of his loins. She swallowed hard and 
said, "I've got something to tell you." 

"I've been dying to hear all night ... but you don't have to say a thing ... 
if you don't want to." 

"But I want to!" the unnerved woman blurted. 

"Well, out here in the front room isn't the place," he replied. Kris offered 
no fight as he took her into the bedroom which had been the scene of her 
carnal abandon only hours before. "And clothes are too formal for what I 
sense you have to talk about." 

Submissively she stood as with deft, obviously experienced hands, Bill 
undressed her. Her dress was cast aside, leaving her trembling nude except 
her boots and see-through panties. The zippers of her boots came down and 
she was stepping out of them. Then, teasingly his warm fingers were slowly 
drawing her panties down the smoothly shaped columns of her long legs and 
she found herself kicking them away as he knelt. 

"Oooooooohhhhh!" Kris groaned in rising anticipation as she felt his moistly 
heated lips on her belly. She trembled like a frightened deer as his mouth 
moved lower. His breath was hot on the pulsating lips of her hopelessly 
inflamed cunt, and then she felt the burning spear of his tongue delve 
between her legs, seeking the moistened depths of her pussy. With a groan 
she spread her legs and thrust her pubic mound toward Bill's face as his 
tongue flicked wetly over the button of her rising little clitoris. Her 
hands grasped his head and pulled him tight to her gyrating loins as his 
hands grasped her tightly clenched buttocks. Kris didn't know if it was the 
romantic evening which caused it, or the expert way the lashing tip of 
Bill's tongue was probing her private flesh, but it seemed that within 
seconds she was cumming, with a great flood of her hot liquid passion 
pouring down the hair-lined channel of her cunt to spill into his wildly 
sucking open mouth and streak her jerking thighs. With a gentle cry she fell 
back on the bed, her legs lewdly splayed open, and joyously continued to 
respond to his eagerly laving tongue. 

"Aaaaaaaaggghhh!" she cried softly, locking her long, slender legs over his 
shoulders and squeezing his bobbing head, until she was completely spent and 
had to release him. Her fingers traced the lean planes of his face as she 
cooed, "Oh, Bill...." 

"Now if you only would have let me do it the first time," he said, licking 
her tummy tenderly before standing. "How about you undressing me?" 

All inhibition gone, the aroused blonde nearly ripped his clothes off. She 
pulled his pants and undershorts down with a savage tear of her grasping 
fingers, dropping to her knees as his swelling cock sprang free of its 
confinement. Before he could kick his slacks away, Kris's powerful pink 
tongue was urgently licking the blood-filled head and her soft warm lips 
were bestowing teasing little kisses on it. She caught a glimpse of herself 
in the mirror, kneeling deferentially, lewdly mouthing the lust-swollen male 
organ. With an eager gasp, she opened her mouth wide and the tight soft "O" 
of her puckered lips engulfed Bill's hotly pulsing cock to its thick base. 
She hugged him tight and her cheeks drew in with the desire of her sucking. 

And then, almost brutally, he pulled her head away. She whined in 
frustration and tried to get him in her mouth again but he was pulling her 
to her feet, pushing her down on the bed and lying beside her. Kris sobbed. 
Why didn't he want her that way? She knew he'd liked what she did. The way 
his jerking hips responded, the way he had driven his penis even deeper into 
her throat-that was proof enough. So what had made him stop? And why had he 
stopped her? 

"Hey, sweetness, we gotta have a little talk," he said, even as he moved to 
kiss her bare breasts and squeeze the smooth roundness of her buttocks and 
then slide his lewdly searching fingers into the heat of her pulsing cunt. 
Kris squirmed and splayed her legs wantonly, giving him full entry to her 
quivering flesh as he continued to talk softly. "Something sure as hell did 
happen to you. The other night, you were scared of yourself ... what I'd 
call a really reluctant lay. You practically bit my head off when I tried to 
eat you. But now you're a hog for it-and you were sucking my cock down to 
its soul. I think we know each other well enough for you to tell me what's 
been going on!" 

"Oh Bill, believe me...." the emotionally harried blonde-haired Weather Girl 
pleaded. "I really want to tell you-I have to make myself, get up my 
courage." With a boldness she didn't know was within her, Kris reached and 
took hold of his penis and tried to turn on the bed to bring it into her 
yearning mouth again. "Let me ... let me, please!" 

"NOT YET!" he said, yanking her back by her long hair, pulling it so hard it 
ached to the roots. "There's a lot of talking we have to do-I've got 
something to tell you, too. Kris, I know you're curious about the Porsche 
and the how I can afford the life-style I live, the dinner like we had 
tonight. Well, I have to spill my story ... and it's not that pretty, 
either. Whatever you have to say couldn't be nearly as bad. Now ... 
listen...." 

If only he were right! Kris Anderson told herself. 

As his tale unraveled, the long-haired woman had to admit that a few weeks 
ago, it would have been repulsively obscene. Now it seemed almost harmless. 

An evening on a beach at a lake in New Hampshire with a gang of frat 
brothers and sorority girls from another college began as an old fashioned 
weenie-roast and beer bust. Then it turned into a group sex scene as the 
brothers added 190-proof alcohol to the beer and everybody shed whatever few 
remaining inhibitions they had held onto. There was a monkey pile, and 
couples screwed openly in front of the fire. Bill couldn't hope to remember 
how many girls he'd had, but on that particular night he was a tireless 
fucker. In time, four couples had sneaked away to a nearby cabin and an orgy 
to challenge any in written history had ensued. 

When the State Troopers arrived at the behest of an outraged neighbor, they 
broke in without knocking. 

"I was banging this nutty redhead in the bottom-butt-fucking her-while she 
was giving head to my buddy and another broad was squatting on his face as 
he ate her out. The redhead was turned on at both ends, really going wild 
and humping around, wanting me deep in her asshole, and it was so 
out-of-bounds we never even heard the troopers until they blew a whistle and 
began pulling us apart. Then, as the saying goes, they fucked us over. We 
wound up with our tails in the county slam and nothing but blankets ... and 
outrageous hangovers. I got off lucky. My family had enough bread to mellow 
out the local forces of law and order, but I had to make myself invisible-so 
here I am," Bill Evans concluded. 

"Exciting!" Kris gushed. She didn't understand how a girl could eagerly be 
sodomized-butt-fucked-yet when Rick had slipped his finger into her tight 
little anus last night, there had been unbelievable excitement to it. "But 
with your money, why did you take on such a flunky job? Even if you don't 
have your degree, you should be able to get something better." 

"Kris, you don't get the picture," the young man replied patiently. "Our 
television station is owned by Evans Industries, although you don't hear the 
firm's name flashed about in public. 

We're a holding company, and the station is just one little division of the 
corporation's holdings. Some people, with no sense of private enterprise, 
call us a 'conglomerate'. Anyway, I drew the dirty job of finding out why 
this lucrative television station, the biggest audience in New York, is not 
giving us near the profit it should. Well, it's a long dull story, but the 
main character is Old Cavanaugh, the station manager. He ought to be let out 
to pasture with a few affectionate mares." He chuckled and kissed her 
breasts lingeringly, his tongue teasing as his mouth sucked, and Kris 
groveled in abandon, reaching again for his still erect cock. But he drew 
back, wanting to discourse further. "And you, Miss Hot Pants Weather Girl, 
are the hottest public relations item the station has! Now, keep this under 
your bonnet, but in a few weeks you are going to get a movie offer. I told 
the old man we were wasting you using just your pretty fingers to point to a 
weather map. Your magnificent figure is going to be seen on The Big 
Screen-and if you don't become a star in a few years, you can have your 
lousy weather map and the rat-race all over again! Now, how's them apples, 
sister?" 

"I-don't-know what to say!" Kris managed to say. "But you have to know about 
me ... I'm no angel. " 

"Well, your angel hair feels pretty good," Bill said, stroking her furiously 
beating hair-lined pussy and slowly working his middle finger to the first 
knuckle in the tightly constricting ring of her anus while Kris gasped. Yet 
it didn't turn her off, and she remembered how good it had felt when Rick 
Gordeli did the same thing to her-only deeper! He whispered, "How's it feel, 
darling?" 

Darling! It sounded like Bill was getting 'involved', as she had predicted. 
Kris shuddered and for an answer pushed down against the invading finger and 
felt it slide slowly, tantalizingly, far up into her rectum. With lewdly 
playing fingers she handled his cock, building up her courage to tell him 
just what sort of depraved beast she was. 

With none of the glibness of her on-the-air personality, Kris abjectly told 
Bill of the wanton triangle she had engaged in with Rick and Cookie. She 
also revealed the details of her marriage and her bouts of loneliness, and 
she didn't spare herself. She was crying softly when she had finished 
purging herself. Kris was afraid the slender young man would be revolted by 
her tale. 

But he only laughed and then kissed her as he said, "Group sex is great, and 
it's the only thing I really miss here, because if I get caught in the way I 
was before, I've got a year in the clinker hanging over my head." He tugged 
at his longish hair and added, "Those two sound wild enough to have slipped 
you a pill or something. Kids today are way ahead of us, and they grow up 
quicker every year. Didn't you say the chick's old man has a drugstore?" 

"Well, as a matter-of-fact, he does. You don't think...." Kris replied, 
thinking. A little light bulb was beginning to glimmer. Some aphrodisiac 
could have been put in her coffee or something. And now, looking back, it 
seemed a bit odd that Rick had appeared with the camera at just the most 
compromising moment. There was no denying the sinful, lewd pleasure, she'd 
given and taken ... and with the perspective of hindsight, no way to 
discount the fact that they were both old and wise for their age. 

"I think I have been had by a couple of slick kids," Kris said slowly, 
nuzzling into the hollow of Bill's collarbone and grinding her bare 
ass-cheeks back against his penetrating middle finger which was beginning to 
move in and out of her tightly puckering anus. 

"Most probably," he agreed. "But you have to admit, they pulled you out of 
your shell." His finger began to make a hot circle in her now relaxed 
rectum, stretching her tight rubbery sphincter muscle, and then she gasped, 
but with a lunge, thrust her buttocks back as a second finger met it and his 
thumb sank deep into the molten sweetness of her pussy. "You wouldn't have 
been ready for this, before, would you, darling?" 

"Nooooooo...." Kris moaned, her sensuously twisting body undulating as his 
fingers began to slowly fuck in and out of her anal passage. 

Her arms pulled tighter around him and her hungry mouth found his, and as 
Bill's hot tongue slid between her parted lips her entire body shook and she 
sighed, "Aaaaaaaahhhh ... Uuuuuuuummmm!" 

She never gave morality or normality a thought. She suddenly realized she 
was awakened to herself, and wanted to erotically explore all the treasures 
so long locked away in her beautiful body. 

All of a sudden, Kris, no longer under the power of drugs, was willing to 
try anything. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Kris lost all track of time as they lay there together, exploring each 
other's bodies. Her eager fingers explored every ridge and vein of his rigid 
penis and slowly played with the thick foreskin and the heavy weight of his 
cock which Bill's experienced fingers worked slowly in and out of her tight 
anus, stretching the elastic sphincter ring. His free hand toyed with her 
throbbing breasts, and from time to time he kissed her mouth, sliding his 
tongue between her hungrily parted lips. 

The long-legged, full-breasted girl television personality was still 
somewhat taken aback at discovering the true identity of Bill Evans. Almost 
as much as she was by the depth of her own lusty desires. She wanted his 
wonderfully throbbing cock ... and it didn't matter at all who or what he 
was! 

She yearned for his long hard penis to fill her cunt ... and her mouth. 

But every time she tried to jackknife and bring her head down to his loins, 
he skillfully drew her back. Kris was puzzled how she could have cultivated 
such wild lascivious desires in so short a time, but speculation was 
useless. They existed, demandingly so ... so urgently she found herself 
grinding harder and harder against the fingers which were tantalizingly 
easing in and out of her warmly receptive rectum, screwing herself down on 
them until the palm of Bill's hand slapped wetly on her smooth ass-cheeks. 

"For God's sake!" she muttered even as she ardently kissed him, feeling the 
frustrated desire mounting. "Do something to me!" 

"All right then, turn over on her tummy." His hand lewdly probed her 
ass-cheeks. "And give me some room. Spread your thighs open. A pillow under 
your hips." 

"No, oh nooooooo...." Kris gasped, knowing immediately what he had in mind. 
He wanted to sodomize her as he had the unnamed redhead at the orgy! Almost 
whimpering, she begged, "Nothing like that has ever happened to me before 
... Bill, if you really care about me...." 

"Believe me I do ... I really do, Kris. But you just went through telling me 
how you'd never sucked cock before or been eaten or gone down on a chick and 
how much you loved it once you got into it. I'm telling you, this is outa 
sight!" Resolutely he thrust his fingers deep into her hot, buttery rectum 
and rotated them. "Now, doesn't that feel good?" 

"Yeeeees," she had to confess after a moment, when she realized she was 
going along with it, grinding herself onto his hand. "Yesssss!" 

"Then do what I tell you ... or I'm walking out the door again!" His voice 
had suddenly gotten firm, although it didn't raise a pitch. Kris knew he 
meant what he said. "Roll over!" 

Abjectly, humiliated by her position, yet perversely thrilled by finding a 
man who did not take a simple no for an answer, Kris drew the pillow into 
position and slowly crawled over to it so her smooth firm ass-cheeks were 
lewdly exposed. 

"Open your legs wide," Bill commanded, and she obeyed, holding her breath in 
anticipation. 

The hopelessly aroused Weather Girl couldn't resist drawing her 
silver-blonde hair back from her face and turning to see it happen in the 
mirror. Bill's solid stiff penis was erect and throbbing, his balls bulging. 
It still glistened almost silver with the saliva of her mouth. But it looked 
so huge! Even though his fingers had felt good, she could not fathom how 
such a huge column could squeeze into her tiny rectum! It would surely tear 
her tender flesh. Mercy, if he'd only yield and put it in her pussy or allow 
her to suck him off! 

And now she was watching him bend low over her, and Kris readied herself for 
the obscene ordeal. She saw the sheet below her face dampening with the 
tears that gushed from her eyes. What made him want to do this to her? She 
wanted to give and receive love, not be hurt. Yet she was a flop, Kris 
admitted to herself. After so many years of self-denial, she had finally 
broken and impulsively joined a pair of maniacal young swingers in 
unspeakable acts ... and she had loved every minute of it! 

Now this had to be the bottom of the ladder, this sodomy. Well, the 
tormented divorcee thought, perhaps she had it coming to her. Kris felt 
Bill's strong young body pressing down on her and clenched her teeth, 
awaiting impalement on his turgid rod of flesh. 

But it didn't come. Rather, she felt his hot breath on her neck and his hand 
drawing her hair aside so his lips could press wetly against her flesh while 
his tongue began to lick slowly around her ears, then her throat and 
teasingly down her spine. 

"Oooooooooaaaaaaaahhh...." Kris moaned, in spite of herself. It was like 
being brushed with a wet feather and, responding, she rose higher, taking 
her weight onto her knees, hardly noticing the warmth of his stiff penis 
rubbing between her wildly splayed ass-cheeks. Then his hands were cupping 
her swinging breasts, tweaking the erect nipples and finally sliding over 
the smoothness of her belly to her hips, his thumbs drawing her trembling 
ass-cheeks apart. Without warning, the fluttering tip of his tongue began to 
ring the throbbing rose of her anus and suddenly plunged it past the 
constricted rubbery sphincter ring and began fucking her so much more 
delightfully than his fingers had. Kris could only tremble uncontrollably 
and sigh, "Oooooohhhhhhh ... Bill!" 

Lewdly she churned her widespread buttocks against his face, delighting in 
this new ecstatic sensation. In the mirror she saw her face contorted with a 
wanton lust. Suddenly his tongue didn't seem big enough for her, and she 
gasped out a plea she had never before made in her life. 

"Fuck me ... oh, FUCK ME IN THE ASS!" Eagerly she pressed back, rising to 
her elbows and writhing as she felt the huge bulbous knob of his cockhead 
touch her spasming rectal opening and his hands holding her hips steady. 
Then he was thrusting...."Uuuuuuugggghhhh!" Kris grunted as inexorably the 
mushroom-shaped tip of his long hard cock pushed at her defensively 
puckering anus. What had been a delightful point of pleasure moments before 
now became one of almost unbearable pain and she cried out, "Ooooaaaaah, no 
... please, don't ... it hurts!" 

"Relax, darling," Bill said, and his hand cracked stingingly over her 
trembling ass-cheeks. "Screw back on my prick!" 

The stinging blow made Kris gasp, but at the same time her pain-tautened 
muscles relaxed and the massive head of Bill's hotly throbbing cock 
penetrated in that instant. She felt him thrust an inch or two farther into 
her sensitive anal flesh, and it felt like she was being impaled on the 
handle of a logger's axe. She sobbed out her agony and dimly heard him 
telling her that in a minute it would feel good. 

"Swing that beautiful ass of yours around and work it in," the lean young 
man ordered. "The quicker you do that, and I'll be all the way in, the 
faster we can start to fuck in a way like you wouldn't believe!" 

Kris drew in several deep breaths and steeled herself to obey her lover's 
demands. She was still painfully stretched, her anus distended by the 
thickness of his invading cock, but it was gradually beginning to feel 
better. Slowly she began to rock from side to side, feeling his rigid 
hardness sink deeper and deeper up into her straining rectum. The moving 
helped a lot, and gradually she began to grind her wide-stretched ass-cheeks 
back at him, feeling his massive rod churning deep in her vitals. With a 
gasp, she realized the initial pain was being replaced by a sensual 
tingling, and she humped her back and drove back hard, feeling his thick 
rigid penis going deeper and deeper, pushing rippling soft flesh ahead of 
it. Kris realized for the first time that her rectum was even more sensitive 
than her pussy, and once Bill got all the way into her, it would be, like he 
had promised, something like she'd never dreamed of! 

"Ummmmmm ... aaahhhh!" Kris moaned in mounting lewd passion. "All of it ... 
RIGHT NOW!" 

The soft hemispheres of her naked buttocks churning wildly, Kris screwed 
herself back onto his long impaling penis. She was almost flattened on the 
bed as Bill Evans rammed forward and the full length of his lust-inflamed 
cock plunged into the squirming depths of her aroused young body. His 
sperm-laden balls smacked against her exposed ass-cheeks, and he cried out 
in triumph. 

"Aaaaauuuuugggghhh!" Kris cried out as fresh pain seared through her loins. 
She collapsed over the pillow and could hardly look at her reflection in the 
mirror, with the tall blonde young man's penis buried to the hilt between 
her quivering buttocks. "Holy, Moses, you're ENORMOUS!" 

"And you're tighter than a clenched fist ... we'll take it slow until you 
get relaxed, Kris. You dig it?" 

"I'm not complaining now, am I?" the blonde haired girl quipped, flexing her 
anal muscles around the huge penis as she began to undulate beneath him just 
enough so that with each movement his rampant cock moved in and out of her 
tightly puckering anus an inch or two. Very slowly, she engulfed his pulsing 
maleness with the moist heat of her back passage and felt his cum-filled 
balls smack against her lewdly open buttocks. She was afraid to think of how 
it would feel if, with all his powerful strength, Bill Evans really did fuck 
it to her hard, withdrawing and then ramming the entire length of his male 
organ into her defenseless anus. But this ... this was nice! How long would 
he remain poised over her, buried deep in her, his big hands caressing her 
breasts and his lips nuzzling her neck, his tongue flicking into her ears? 
Kris wanted this to go on all night! No matter how perverted it might be, 
she couldn't help it! She sighed in sensuous pleasure and whispered, "Talk 
to me, Bill." 

"Just on what subject?" he asked, jamming his cock deeper and hearing the 
girl beneath him grunt. 

"Oh, anything ... your other girls ... your family ... sex fantasies ... 
make it up if the truth is boring!" Grindingly she skewered her quivering 
little anus up on his cock. "Don't fuck me hard ... not yet. I'm just 
starting to like this." 

"Holy cow, you said it. You really said FUCK!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know 
you had it in you!" 

"You know I've got it in me," Kris said, squirming, feeling his hotly 
pulsating penis reaming her tender anus and chuckling with a lewdness she 
didn't know she possessed. Somehow nothing mattered now but the man hovering 
over her, his thick shaft buried deep up inside her sensitive flesh, slowly 
sliding his penis in and out of her rectum ... sodomizing her ... thrilling 
her obscenely. She sighed and murmured, "Deep as you can, partner!" 

For Kris it was almost surrealistic. She could see herself in the mirror, 
belly down, with her legs spread wide and a rigid pole of flesh sliding in 
and out of her distended ass-cheeks, the strokes gradually getting longer as 
she herself writhed and undulated, welcoming it. And yet they were really 
just beginning to talk, just starting to get to know each other, exchanging 
anecdotes. Kris wished she'd had such intimacies with Stan ... if she'd had, 
she might be still married instead of a lonely divorcee. But that was all 
water under the bridge, and this was real! The gorgeous cock was filling her 
virginal anus! She began to feel more and more of it. And then Bill 
surprised her with a question. 

"Kris, is this going to be a one-night-stand?" he asked. 

"Well, what do you think?" She deliberately clamped her muscles down tight 
on his pulsing cockshaft, and was pleased when she heard him moan in 
pleasure. When he didn't answer, she persisted, "Do you think it's going to 
be for just one night?" 

"You sounded pretty turned on by the kids," Bill replied. 

Kris ground her naked buttocks back hard against his lust-thickened penis 
before answering. "Oh, sure, I was turned on. But Rick's still young ... and 
Cookie's a girl ... oh, hell, so much has happened so fast to me. Well, I 
guess if they got me at the right time ... well, sure, maybe...." 

"You don't have to feel so apologetic, darling," Bill said as his hands 
moved to cup her breasts again and his fingers tweaked the nipples 
painfully. "They sound like an exciting pair." His rampant cock surged deep 
up into her now relaxed rectum again. 

"I doubt you'd say that if we were living together and you came home and 
found me in bed with both of them," Kris retorted, grinding back and up to 
take his thrust. "You'd blow your fuses!" 

"Bulllllll-shit ... I'd get in bed with you." Kris thought it had to be the 
most ridiculous conversation she'd ever heard, but then he began using his 
thumbs to squeeze her clitoris and she went bananas herself.... 

* * * 

Rick's oral gratification had calmed little Cookie temporarily, but only 
seemed to make his own lusty desires stronger. He was at the point of 
yielding to them and pulling her head with its bright cap of hair down to 
his aching loins when the Porsche purred down the secluded street and into 
the drive of Kris's apartment house. 

They watched the couple enter, and saw lights go on in the front of the 
apartment, then later blacken while others illuminated the bedroom. 

"Well, shit ... I guess we're out of luck tonight!" Cookie said angrily. 
"You'll just have to get by with me." 

"I can get by with you just fine," he growled as he pulled her groping hand 
away from his thickening penis. "I know just who that bastard is ... Bill 
Evans. He's got a flunky job at the TV station, but he's worth his weight in 
gold. And if we don't do something fast, he's going to rip-off our little 
girl. I say we go in and take the initiative!" 

"Our little girl?" the little dark-haired dancer said, laughing, until she 
realized the phrase was appropriate. And besides, what did she have to lose? 
If they got into the house and things got sticky, it was Rick who'd get his 
ass kicked in, not her. After hungering so long for Kris, then bringing her 
out so nicely, Cookie didn't want to let go of her to some little rich boy, 
without a fight. She decided, and said, "Here we go!" 

"I've got some convincing evidence, if we need it, Rick said, touching the 
pocket of his windbreaker. "Pictures of Kris eating you out. Maybe if he 
sees those, he'll just split on her and she'll be all ours, again." 

"For a young man, you have the wisdom of a philosopher," Cookie conceded 
with a devious chuckle. 

Gaining entry was no problem. In her excited state, Kris had neglected to 
press the lock button, and the door opened silently. The young swingers 
slipped their shoes off and tiptoed through the apartment toward the bedroom 
where a dim light glowed. They peered through the half open door, their eyes 
bulging at what they saw and overheard. They withdrew to the living room. 

"Holy Toledo! He's got it in her butt!" Rick said in an awed whisper. 

"And lie's hardly moving it at all!" Cookie added. "They're talking about 
the National League pennant race!" 

"Let's add our two cents to the discussion, sister," he said. From his 
pocket he took a heavy hunting knife. He wouldn't admit it, but he was 
afraid of what Bill Evans might do to him. He wouldn't think of using the 
blade, but if he had to get involved in fisticuffs, it might come in handy 
on the psychological level. 

Down the dark corridor they went, the two silent figures. And now Bill and 
Kris weren't talking. Fully and even eagerly adjusted to the deep anal 
penetration, Kris had risen so she was on elbows and wide-stretched knees, 
her beautiful round buttocks humping madly as the long rigid cock fucked in 
and out of her rectum and Bill's semen-loaded balls smacked between her 
perspiring ass-cheeks. 

"Aaaaauuuuuhhhhggg ... Ooooooohhhhh...!" the aroused older woman cried out 
softly as she felt the hot spear of flesh jamming ruthlessly up into her 
trembling belly. "Oh, Bill! Now it's just right!" 

And it was for Kris, as she was discovering a whole new world of sex! So 
different from mere fucking ... or having a wonderfully spurting penis in 
her mouth, or tasting the sweet vaginal flesh of a young girl. She wished 
she could have all these things simultaneously, and this time she didn't 
think she'd hate herself in the morning. 

The girl with sunny-blonde hair flailing the air in her passion no longer 
cared about anything but her sensual fulfillment! 

"Fuck meeeeeeee ... Aaaaaaahhhhh, fuck my ass!" she yelled out. 

"Well, what have we here ... Kris Anderson, Live From Her Bedroom!" 

Kris froze, staring at the doorway, her head spinning. It took her a few 
moments to realize the interlopers were Rick and Cookie, and they were 
grinning lewdly at her with a cock buried deep in her wildly clasping 
rectum. Suddenly she wanted to throw up. She thought she could kill them for 
this intrusion just as she was reaching a different peak of ecstasy. She 
thought Bill would surely yank his penis out of her and go to her defense, 
but he only fucked deeper into her buttocks as he spoke. 

"Darling, are these the two you were telling me about?" 

"You guessed it," she managed to utter. "It's them all right." 

"And you dug it with them ... maybe you would with all of us!" She felt 
herself being tilted on her side, then rolled on top of him with his penis 
reaming her quivering rectal passage as her legs splayed lewdly open on 
either side of him and his big hands closed over her hot breasts, holding 
her tight. Unbelieving, Kris heard him say, "Kid, I think I've got your 
number. Maybe I should get up and kick the shit out of you, and maybe I will 
before the night's over ... but I won't just yet because Kris really needs 
the wildest screwing she can have. How about a sandwich?" 

"Bill!" Kris screamed, instantly realizing what lay behind his obscene 
proposal ... he wanted both of them to do her at once! 

"Oh, Bill . 

. how could you.... 

Nooooooooo!" 

"I told you already how good it is in groups ... now you're going to 
discover it for yourself, darling," he said. "Get through this and you'll be 
free of hang-ups for life!" He jammed his hotly throbbing penis up into her 
clasping anal depths and said, "Come on, kid. FUCK HER!" 

Terrified Kris had a vision of herself stretched on a block while a 
black-hooded monster of a man approached with a huge axe as Rick furiously 
tore off his clothes and hopped into bed. His virile young cock was rigid, 
and the tiny hole in the tip of his swollen rod was cradling a tiny 
pearl-drop of pre-seminal fluid. 

The blonde-haired beauty tried to struggle, but was held firm by Bill Evans 
underneath her and the weight or Rick above, forcing her flailing legs even 
wider apart. 

Then she felt the insistent, bulging head of the waiter's male organ 
pressing at the tightness of her flexing pussy. And in the background, 
little jet-black tressed Cookie was silently grinning at her degradation! 
How could they do this to her! Rick was a young animal, and possibly could 
be excused. But Bill. . Bill had practically said he was in love with her 
... and now he was subjecting her to this awful indignity! She felt stuffed 
already with his throbbing penis rammed in her rectum from beneath. It would 
be impossible for Rick to get his cock into her now-gaping cunt! 

But he was poised above her, the beating head pressing at the tender portal. 
She screamed as she felt him lunge up ... and then his cock slipped away 
from her dampened vaginal sheath, and he cursed and tried again with the 
same result. 

"You fuck better with your mouth, Rick," the little buxom dancer said. "Here 
... allow me to help you get into her!" She grabbed the young waiter's 
iron-stiff staff and aimed it directly up Kris' dilating channel of buttery 
bliss and then, winking, said, Serve it up to her, sweetheart!" 

Kris screamed as she felt his long rigid hardness ram upward into her 
already distended flesh, searing like a white hot poker, almost exploding 
her apart. Wildly her legs gyrated around either side and then locked tight 
around the back of the boy as she felt the two cocks jammed deep in her 
painfully yielding flesh, separated only by the thin membrane between her 
cuntal and rectal passages. She cried, not so much from the physical pain, 
but from the realization of her vilely obscene position ... literally a hot 
piece of meat in a human sandwich! The lovely Weather Girl had never 
imagined such a thing was possible. 

Tears of torment rolled down her cheeks and she tried to tell herself she 
was just dreaming, an awful nightmare. 

But there was no hallucination to what she felt as the two warmly pulsating 
cocks began to move rhythmically in and out of her dually-impaled body. She 
could feel them rubbing against each other as gradually the young waiter on 
top of her and the older, yet still young man below, established a fucking 
rhythm. 

"Nooooooo ... Uuuggggg ... Aaahhh!" Kris pleaded, but to no avail as they 
slowly increased the speed of her dual fucking. Helpless to resist, unable 
to escape the ravishment, she discovered the only way to ease the pain was 
to lock her long slender legs tight around Rick's rocking back so that each 
time he rose for another driving, pummeling stroke, he took her with him. 
There was no way to escape the lusty thrusting of Bill's rock-hard penis 
into her tender rectum. She grunted, "Uuuuggghhh ... UUGGHH!" with every 
driving movement and wished she could be dead. 

Above her, Cookie was looking down, her eyes bright with excitement, and in 
the big mirror Kris saw the whole awful spectacle reflected. She was being 
mercilessly buffeted between the two like a beach ball ... and suddenly the 
utter humiliation and degradation of her situation began to enthrall her. 

The two penises were plundering her vaginal and rectal passages, slamming 
her up and down. Gradually there was less pain, and a growing feeling of 
intense sexual excitement. 

"Eeeeeyyyhhh ... Oooooooohhhhhh!" she sighed, and began to move in rhythm 
with them. She found herself screwing up hungrily on Rick's cock, then 
humping down on Bill's, feeling it ram like a hot piston deep up into her 
wildly puckering ass. Mindlessly, carried away by the carnality, she began 
to chant, "Oooooooohhhh ... Gooooood ... more ... harder ... deeper ... FUCK 
ME HARDER! Your cocks are heavenly!" 

Suddenly the once staid Kris Anderson found herself a sensual animal, 
writhing and clawing and thrashing, trying to draw the thrilling penises 
deeper and deeper up into her burning flesh. She had never realized such 
sensations as she now experienced were ever possible as, with the fury of an 
amazon woman, she fucked with every ounce of strength in her nakedly 
squirming body. 

Kris heard herself screaming out of boundless pleasure, and somewhere far 
away a dog was barking and a crow was screeching. Wildly she screwed her 
tightly clutching cunt up onto Rick's big hard cock, then furiously ground 
her ass-cheeks down on Bill's thick impaling penis. She could feel the sweat 
slick on their lewdly tangled bodies and she rejoiced in their wantonness. 

Suddenly Cookie's innocent voice hovered over her tossing breasts and her 
soft little mouth opened wide to engulf first one and then the other while 
her groping fingers kneaded their resilient flesh. 

"Your pussy!" Kris begged. "Give me your pussy!" 

With a salacious grin, the little teenager deftly maneuvered herself over 
Kris' lust-contorted face and lowered her sweet young cunt to the older 
woman's searching tongue. She felt Kris' hot lips begin to suck at her 
sensitive vaginal flesh and writhed, pressing down as the spearing tongue 
teased her clitoris before ravenously slithering up into the depths of her 
loins. 

Adrenalin gushed through Kris' churning body. She wanted this to go on all 
night ... this being wildly fucked by two young cocks at once and at the 
same time drinking the sweet nectar from the squirming dancer's pussy. She 
could hear the liquid squishing and licking sounds of their furiously 
colliding bodies, the molten surge of rigid maleness pounding into her 
steaming pussy and anus, feel the semen-laden balls whack into her 
forcefully spread ass-cheeks and against her flaming cunt ... and then like 
a burst of light, all hesitations and inhibitions abandoned her forever. 

All notion of time was lost too until she suddenly felt Rick and Bill's 
cocks swelling in her loins and knew they were going to cum. She wanted the 
four of them to cum together, and furiously she pulled Cookie's taut little 
buttocks down hard against her mouth and fucked her tongue far up into the 
succulent little cunt. 

In moments, Cookie was screaming out her wild climax, and the passionate cry 
triggered the others. Kris felt both her cunt and her rectum suddenly filled 
with thick hot cum spurting from the two ramming penises. Eagerly she 
welcomed it, her anal and vaginal muscles sucking even as her tongue licked 
madly at the delicious flow from the young pussy grinding against her 
passion swollen lips. 

And then, blissfully, she was wailing out her 

. own thunderous orgasm.... 

For a long time the four lay locked together. There were wet sucking and 
popping sounds as finally Cookie, exhausted, rose from the caress of Kris' 
sucking lips and the two cocks, trailing strings of whitish cum, eased out 
of her sorely used cunt and anus. She lay back, sighing in a carnal 
contentment as all four caressed each other indiscriminately. 

Kris found her head suddenly clear. She knew exactly what she had done. The 
first time may have been caused by medication. This time it was her own long 
suppressed carnality which had triggered it. She was glad that it had 
happened, because she now knew herself ... and thought she knew them also. 

An exotic collection of characters. 

Rick was self-centered, a conniver, but at an age when he would grow out of 
it. 

Beautiful little Cookie believed she was a lesbian, but had demonstrated 
that she could enjoy men as well as women ... just as she, herself, had 
demonstrated the same thing. 

Bill Evans ... well, in spite of his wealth, he'd been doing the dirty work 
at the station, taking abuse from Old Cavanaugh ... as he had put it ... 
paying his dues for the orgy in New Hampshire. 

And herself ... Kris wasn't completely sure. But at least she was out of her 
cage. 

She was free! 

Free to do anything she wanted. Make love to a girl or lingeringly suck a 
rigid penis or kneel and take one deep in her rectum. Anything at all! Free 
to love! 

Impulsively she moved and tenderly kissed the tips of the now deflated cocks 
and then Cookie's small erect breasts before saying, "Hey, I could eat a 
horse. Anybody want to scare up some show?" 

"I fancy myself a good cook, if I do say so," Rick said. 

"I can make coffee," Cookie piped in, smiling to be of assistance. 

"Don't be bashful, the kitchen's all yours!" Kris said with her old spunk. 

The naked two-some that arrived late climbed from the bed and Kris was left 
alone again with Bill Evans. He moved to take her in his arms again but she 
held him back, saying, "I smell like a horse, a wild horse." 

"I dig it. I want you," he replied, kissing her deeply. 

"But you couldn't, not this soon," Kris murmured. 

"I'm talking about for a long time." 

Kris knew what he was talking about. While she had finally found herself, 
she was not about to fall into the marriage trap again ... not until she was 
sure. Bill was six years younger than herself, and she knew how wild she had 
been with an even younger man ... and Cookie. Cookie wouldn't last forever, 
but there would be other girls ... and more young boys. She decided to 
stall. 

"Bill ... I've just got to think it over ... a long time. Could we just sort 
of hold each other and ... you know?" 

"Nothing would make me happier," the lean young man said as he began to 
cuddle up to her. 

An uproar suddenly came from the direction of the kitchen. 

"Will you look at that!" 

"I don't know how we ever could have let a thing like that happen!" 

"What will Kris say, when she finds out?" 

The back and forth voices of Cookie and Rick made it obvious that something 
unplanned was happening. The apartment was fragrant with the smell of 
perking coffee and the smoky odor of cooked meat. 

"The food's on fire!" Kris yelped, and jumped from the bed, pounding down 
the corridor to the kitchen, she found the two cooks in turmoil. Bill 
followed close behind her. The room was smoky, and Rick and Cookie were 
coughing. The windows had been opened wide. Rick and Cookie were standing 
stark naked, with their heads out the window, trying to get some fresh air 
in their lungs. Kris blurted, "What's going on here?" 

"We were cooking lamb chops," a shaken Rick said. "It started pouring smoke 
out of the stove, and when I opened it the meat was in flames. I doused the 
fire with some baking soda. But the chops are ruined!" 

"The coffee's ready, though," Cookie chirped up, trying to sound a bright 
note. 

"Well, I guess it's my own fault," Kris confessed. "I haven't given the oven 
a good cleaning since I moved in. There must have been quite a bit of 
accumulated grease under the broiler and on the walls of the oven. I'm sorry 
I'm such a slob ... and I'm glad nobody was hurt. I've still got some cold 
cuts, though!" 

It didn't take long to arrange a stack of sandwiches and Kris wheeled the 
mini-buffet into the bedroom on a tea-wagon. Kris found the trio lazily 
caressing each other in bed. Despite the huge meal she'd had earlier that 
evening, she now discovered she was ravenously hungry. She quickly put down 
two sandwiches. She thought: Sex sure does give one an appetite! An appetite 
for more sex. She could anticipate future problems and set about solving 
them. 

"Now, what are we going to do about us?" she posed the question to her love 
partners. "Let's face it, we've each got our hang-ups, but it was really 
great tonight. We just can't take off and fly in four directions." Kris 
munched on her sandwich and sipped on her coffee. "Rick ... Cookie ... 
you're both under twenty-one. I've got my career. Bill is kind of in a 
ticklish position for a while. I don't know how I can manage to feel this 
way, considering my thinking just a week or two ago ... but I don't want 
what we shared tonight to end." 

"There's no problem," Bill Evans said. "The family has a little farm, only a 
few hundred acres, up in the country. Nobody lives around it ... and there'd 
be plenty of room for your little botanical garden ... plus all the privacy 
in the world. The four of us could move right in." 

The idea was endorsed on the spot, with excitement. Both Rick and Cookie had 
virtually full freedom of movement, due to their family situations. But Rick 
seemed troubled and he finally broke down as he turned to Kris. 

"I messed with your mind ... really," he said. "Cookie too." 

"What are you talking about?" Kris replied. 

"That time with the coffee ... it was laced with a turn-on drug ... from 
Cookie's old man's drugstore ... you were whacked out of your head the first 
time with us. I have to get that off my chest ... even if you hate me for 
it!" 

Kris sat there stunned, her mouth open, speechless. Then, she was laughing 
heartily ... for the first time in days, it seemed ... until her tummy 
muscles ached. 

Finally Bill turned to her, putting down his own sandwich and asked, "Hey, 
Kris ... what's the gag?" 

"The coffee," she choked out. "I was in such a hurry to get into bed that 
night that I left it in the kitchen ... I never touched a drop of it ... " 


THE END
