The Happy Couples
by Felix Hemmingway
(LLP-515)


Chapter One 

Reeve Richards awoke that morning, as he usually did, with a huge erection. 
The heat from the early rays of the May sun filtered through the 
floor-to-ceiling louvered shutters in the spacious bedroom on Doheney Drive 
and made the room uncomfortably warm. Another smog-alert day for certain. A 
quick press of the button in his digital watch told him it was 6:30. He had 
a choice; several, actually. He could roll over and catch another forty 
winks ... he could hop into the shower, then dress, grab a bite and be at 
the office before the official "day" started, getting a chance to go through 
the trade rags before the phones started ringing ... or ... 

He looked at the languid form of the woman sleeping next to him. She had 
thrown off the light bed covers in her sleep, so that she lay there with her 
ripe, sensuous body shielded only by a sheer, transparent nightgown. Reeve 
propped himself up on one elbow as he quietly turned on his side to get a 
better look at his young wife. Though they had been married nearly a year, 
he never grew tired of staring at her voluptuous body, with the firm, 
up-thrust breasts punctuated by two pert, rosy nipples ... the smooth, flat 
stomach, the symmetrically curved hips ... the sculpted thighs and calves 
that ended in trim ankles, and the delicious, girlish thatch of dark hair 
that grew on the sweet sex mound between those beautiful legs. 

He idly began to lightly stroke his stiff cock while drinking in the 
tantalizing outlines of his wife's sleeping form. Lewd sexual fantasies 
began to course through his mind, which excited him more. He enjoyed that 
kind of sweet torture, and he allowed the fantasies to overtake him ... 

He was riding on a train, one of those super fast European ones bound from 
Belgrade to Paris. It was 11:00 at night, and he was in his berth in the 
private compartment he booked for himself. He had been reading and was just 
about to switch off the overhead reading light when there was a soft knock 
at the door. He hesitated for a moment before getting up. "Who's there?" he 
called. But there was no answer. He got up quickly, slipped on his robe and 
tip-toed to the door. Very cautiously he opened it just a crack. A 
beautiful, mysterious woman was standing there, wearing a white mink coat 
that reached the floor. The scent of her exotic perfume was intoxicating. 
Reeve's eyes widened with surprise. "Y-yes?" he said hesitantly. The woman's 
full, scarlet lips slowly formed an enigmatic smile, showing perfect white 
teeth. She didn't answer immediately, but took a long drag from a strong 
cigarette held in a mother-of-pearl holder. 

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked seductively. 

He was taken aback. "Well, it is rather late. I was just about to turn in 
for the night ... " 

She interrupted him: "But I want to suck your cock." She cooed, licking her 
lips. "I want to lick it, and kiss it all over, and eat your balls. Then I 
want you to fuck me. I want you to stick your prick into my wet, sticky cunt 
and fuck me until you cream my pussy full up to the cunt hairs with your 
white, hot cum ... " and with that she let the luxurious white mink fall 
away from her, exposing an exquisitely sensuous body completely naked to his 
greedy eyes. It was the most beautiful female body he had ever seen, and it 
was his for the taking. Reeve's cock was bobbing up and down under his 
pajamas. He was speechless. This gorgeous stranger, the most beautiful woman 
he had ever seen, was brazenly inviting him to be seduced! Before he could 
say another word, Madame X had pushed her way into the compartment and 
locked the door behind her. "Lie down." she commanded. Still too startled to 
speak, Reeve did as he was told. Deftly she untied the sash of his robe and 
spread it open. Next she unsnapped the fly of his pajamas, then worked them 
down over his hips and legs until she had them off completely. She forced 
his thighs apart with her slender, elegant fingers. Then she knelt between 
his quivering limbs. She was still wearing the white mink coat, and Reeve 
could feel the smooth, satin lining again his flesh, and the soft, furry 
pelts. It was like a dream, a fantastic dream. 

The ravishing brunette looked at him through thick, black-fringed lashes. 
Her eyes were a clear lime green, like a cat's eyes. The gaze was steady, 
assured, uninhibited, and he shuddered as he forced himself to return her 
gaze. Again she gave him her enigmatic smile, licking her soft, glossy lips 
as she did so. He was aching to feel her lips around his cockflesh; aching 
to feel the slippery strokes of her delicate tongue around his meat. He 
squeezed the muscles of his ass together and thrust his hips upward. His 
prick was only inches from her face, but it seemed a mile away for all the 
agony of anticipation he was experiencing. 

"You want it, don't you?" she asked teasingly. "Oh, God yes. Yes!" he 
gasped, his voice quavering. She continued to smile and look into his eyes. 
Then slowly she began working with the buttons on his pajama top, starting 
with the last one. He could hardly bear the waiting. He wanted to shout out 
to her, "Come on, baby, eat my stiff cock. Take it into your mouth and suck 
it ... Suck It, you she-cat!" But he was too inhibited. It seemed as though 
she was forcing him to ask for what he wanted, for what she had offered. It 
was her game. But he held back. 

"What a beautiful male specimen you are." she said, stroking the curls on 
his broad chest with her silken fingertips. Her long, oval nails were 
brightly lacquered with ruby polish, and each stroke made goosebumps rise on 
his flesh. He didn't dare question her actions or her motives. He was afraid 
it would break the spell; that she would change her mind. In fact, he had 
the worrisome thought perhaps this unbelievable creature would suddenly bolt 
from the compartment and vanish into the night as mysteriously as she had 
appeared before he had cum, leaving him with unbearable frustration. 

Her fingers traced a pattern down his chest, past his stomach and into the 
hairy growth of his under belly. His cock twitched involuntarily. "You like 
that, don't you, handsome?" she asked. 

"Oh yes, I love everything you're doing to me." he answered. 

"What else would you like me to do to you?" she prompted. 

Reeve knew what she wanted to hear. He was so hot he felt his cock would 
explode right then. "I ... I want you to go down on me. I want you to lick 
my cock all over, and eat my balls. I want you to take my hot prick into 
your beautiful wet mouth and suck it deep. I want to fuck your mouth with my 
big bulging prick." 

"That's it, darling. Tell me. Beg me. Beg me!" she hissed hotly, breathing 
heavily as she wrapped her fingers gently around Reeve's heavily heated 
hardness and began to stroke it lightly. With the other hand, she clasped 
his balls and began to knead them gently. She was driving him out of his 
mind, and he began to squirm and writhe under her caresses. She was taunting 
him, driving him into a frenzy of longing and frustration. 

"Oh, take it, honey, take it into your mouth. Please, honey ... don't 
torture me like this. Open your mouth, baby, and eat my hot cock. Please 
give it to me, baby. Please suck me. Oh suck me now, honey. Blow my cock!" 
he cried, and he grabbed her head between his hands and shoved her face down 
onto his throbbing cock. Her mouth was a warm channel of pure delight into 
which he thrust the full length of his heated member. He could feel her hot, 
wet tongue lashing his cock-flesh, sending shocks of sensual ecstasy through 
his body. She coursed the length of his prick with her tongue and swirled it 
around and around as though she were painting a barber pole. Then she 
clasped it in her delicate hand and withdrew it for a moment, so that she 
could lick and suck his balls. Reeve had never known such fantastic 
pleasure. Then she put the swollen rod of rock-hard flesh into her mouth 
again. He noticed that there were lipstick marks all over his prick, and it 
excited him even more. His balls were taut. He was getting closer and closer 
to cumming, much as he wanted to hold off, to prolong the fantastic 
experience. His hips were working in time with her mouth, fucking it 
rhythmically. He remembered that she had said she wanted him to fuck her. 
But that didn't mean right then! He could fuck her later. She was the kind 
of a woman he could fuck all night long, in fact. No, he couldn't stop now. 
He was too close ... too close to shooting his hot load into her gorgeous 
mouth ... too close to being sucked off by the most beautiful mouth in the 
world ... 

Brrrrrrrrriiinnnnggggg! Reeve reached quickly across his sleeping wife and 
pushed the "Off" button on the clock radio. Goddammit! he swore under his 
breath. Chris stirred, her eye lids fluttering. He stifled a murmur with his 
lips as he pressed them savagely on her mouth. He felt her resisting, 
struggling under his weight, but he used his strength to subdue her. He had 
to have her! Roughly he pulled up her nightgown and spread her legs apart. 
There was no time to be gentle. His only thought was release for his aching 
balls, and the sweet deliverance his fantasy had prepared him for. 

She was struggling more violently now, and that excited him even more. He'd 
make it up to her later, but now she would just have to give him his way. 
"Reeve, are you crazy? What the hell do you think you're doing? Get off, 
you're hurting me!" She pounding him with her fists and gasping for breath. 
She was furious. His cock found its target. She was dry, and he knew it 
would be painful for her, but he couldn't stop himself. He rammed his cock 
into her for all he was worth. He was panting like a stallion astride a 
mare. She let out a cry of pain loud enough to be heard way out in Malibu as 
he fucked in and out of her unwilling pussy a few times until his body 
stiffened and his balls exploded inside her, sending their pay load deep up 
into her cunt. Spasm after spasm of orgasmic ecstasy wracked his writhing 
body until at last, he collapsed, sweating profusely and breathing like a 
man suffering from emphysema. It was only later that he felt the sting on 
his face, and the warm trickle of blood on his cheek from her murderous 
nails. Reeve looked at his beautiful wife. There were bitter tears of anger 
and frustration in her eyes. "Chris?" he said. But she turned her head away 
from him. "Get off me, you fucking bastard," she said, her voice her voice 
filled with contempt. "Chris, I ... "Get off!" she screamed. 

With that, Reeve raised himself up, withdrawing his spent cock from her 
sperm-washed pussy and stormed into the shower. He was feeling guilty as 
hell, but he was angry, too. He loved Chris, but he had to admit that their 
sex life was not all it could be. She was pissed off at him because he 
wouldn't let her record on the company's label, for one thing. Reeve had 
captured a plum in the recording industry: at 28 he was the youngest 
president of a major studio in the business, working his way up from office 
boy to talent scout to junior exec to the head of the company in just four 
years. He was considered the boy wonder of the record business and had 
helped make Phantasmix, Inc. one of the major labels in the country. He had 
met Chris while he was talent scouting a couple of years ago. She was 
playing a gig at one of the small clubs on the Sunset Strip, singing with a 
fold-rock trio. He was attracted by her innocence, her vulnerability and the 
fact that she wasn't like the other chicks he had known who would hop into 
bed at first meeting in hopes of getting a break. In fact, Chris had a fair 
amount of sexual hangups, which she seemed to have acquired from a rather 
severely moralistic upbringing as the daughter of a small-town clergyman. 
Reeve felt he could bring her around in time, but he had had only limited 
success. At times he doubted his own manhood because of it, feeling that 
maybe there was something wrong with him. But he had never really had any 
complaints from women before. Still, he had found himself confronting sexual 
problems of his own lately, like premature ejaculation, and it bothered the 
hell out of him. He also found that he was resorting to fantasies with 
increasing frequency. (This didn't help things with Chris either.) 

Reeve dressed quickly then rushed out of the house without so much as a cup 
of coffee. Chris was still in bed when she heard the angry screech of tires 
as Reeve gunned the expensive Pantera motorcar and tore away from the house. 
Then she got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She 
looked at herself in the mirror. The big green eyes were swollen from 
crying. Her long black hair was tousled and matted from the combat on the 
bed. Her lips were pouty and they felt bruised from the brutal way Reeve had 
kissed her as she lay there barely awake. Her sheer nightie was a mass of 
wrinkles. She pulled it up over her head and let it fall to the floor and 
stood there for a moment, surveying her body, something she had rarely 
allowed herself to do. 

Chris looked at her mirror image very critically, without a trace of 
sensuous indulgence, as though she were someone else examining a human body 
with a strictly clinical eye. She surveyed her firm, round breasts with 
their small, sepia-colored nipples. Though they were full, they stood 
upright, with no need of support. Her rib cage was small, her waist narrow. 
Her hips flared gently, but they were not at all broad. She turned around. 
Her back was smooth and long, ending in two taut mounds. Her legs were long, 
with very pretty calves. She had a perfect pants figure. In fact, she had a 
perfect figure, toned by years of dancing lessons and outdoor sports like 
skiing and swimming. Her skin was flawless and creamy white. 

She had to laugh a little ruefully when she thought of all the guys who had 
tried to get into her pants. Not one of them scored until she met Reeve. She 
liked him immediately because he didn't come on like a big bullshit artist 
or a super stud the way most of the guys did. He had a neat sense of humor, 
and she admired his mind. He was a guy who would make something of himself, 
you could tell that right away. He was filled with enthusiasm for almost 
everything, not cynical and "cool" like men of her age were -- or, tried to 
be. She felt safe with him, protected. She thought he would make everything 
"right". But she had found that even with Reeve, whom she dearly loved, she 
had some problems that were not responding, that were not being solved. 
Mostly she blamed herself. But sometimes she would become angry with him, 
too, feeling that he was selfish and impatient with her. She recognized that 
there was a certain hostility towards all men in her, as a matter of fact. 
At times she couldn't keep from feeling contemptuous of them, feeling that 
they were all fucking bastards who wanted nothing more from a woman than to 
get their rocks off in a cozy pussy. They were no better than the most 
primitive of animals, and they ought to be put down because of it. 

Where had these ideas come from? She had searched her mind again and again 
for clues. But always the answer eluded her. It was very upsetting to even 
think about it. Quickly Chris stepped into the shower and let the soothing 
water cascade over her body. She ached between the legs. Her battered vagina 
throbbed with pain. She felt unclean, used, soiled. Her own husband, the man 
she loved so much, had used her like a whore! Suddenly Chris's anger rose in 
her like an erupting volcano. She turned on the shower full blast, grabbed 
the shampoo and began vigorously massaging her scalp, digging her nails into 
her skin until she nearly broke them. She hated Reeve at that moment, hated 
him desperately. The forceful spray rained mercilessly on her, mixing with 
her fresh tears of indignation. But much of her torment came from the 
enormous guilt and self-doubt that lay inside her. Was she a real woman, or 
just a frightened, frigid young girl with a stunted sexuality? She had to 
find out. She needed to punish, but she badly needed to be punished too. In 
a moment of blind anguish, a fiendish idea popped into her mind. She started 
to sing wildly: " ... And I go down, down, down, in that burnin' ring of 
fire ... " Her mind was racing. She was giddy, laughing and crying at the 
same time and singing at the top of her lungs. Finally, she turned off the 
faucets, dried her hair m the sun as she sat by the pool having coffee, all 
the while her thoughts clicking away with computer-like rapidity, then she 
went in, carefully selected a pair of tight-fitting French jeans and a 
revealing Jax tee-shirt and left the house. She drove fast, not knowing 
where she was going, nor when she would be back. 

 Chapter Two 

Reeve got to his office half an hour early. The short drive did nothing to 
settle his stomach or weave his frayed nerves. He was hot, nervous and 
short-tempered. He breathed a grateful sigh of relief to find the office 
void of co-workers. 

He switched on the instant coffee machine, lit a cigarette and sat down 
heavily at his desk. There were the usual trade magazines, some inter-office 
memos, a couple of jackets that were midway into production; the usual 
stuff. Then his eye fell on a clipping from the LA Times. It was an ad for a 
club in Venice, showing a clean-cut youth playing guitar. The name on the 
caption was Jeremy Stokes. Reeve thought to himself, "Another fucking folk 
singer! Who needs it!" But there was a note scribbled across the clipping: 

Reeve --This kid is dynamite!! Don't miss Shane! 

Shane was his best scout. He had an unfailing ear and eye for hot new 
talents, and he didn't make recommendations lightly. In fact, Shane was 
considered pretty hard-boiled, a real cynic. Reeve knew him simply as a 
professional who was a damned expert at his job. Shane had been responsible 
for signing several "comers" to the Phantasmix label. So when Shane gave him 
the word on somebody, Reeve caught the act. 

He put the clipping in his wallet. He scanned one magazine, but he couldn't 
concentrate. His eyes saw words, but his mind was back on Doheney Drive. 
That was really a rotten thing to do to Chris, he was thinking. Geezus, 
it'll take a week to mend that fence! Meantime, he'll have to jerk off to 
keep from getting a bad case of lover's nuts! He reached for the phone. He 
wanted to apologize, to try and patch things up between them. But what if 
she rejected him? Chris tended to brood about things, to keep things to 
herself when she was really bugged. That always ticked him off because he 
felt helpless. At those times she was totally unreachable, and he somehow 
blamed himself for not being able to get her into a good mood. 

Reeve banged the phone down on its cradle, swearing under his breath. The 
coffee was boiling, and he got up and poured himself a cup, spilling half of 
the scalding brew down his hand-tailored suit. Shit! he swore loudly, 
throwing the cup against the door. He rushed into the lavatory and turned on 
the cold water. He tried to mop the stain with a towel. He caught sight of 
his face in the mirror. There was a visible track on his left cheek where 
Chris had raked him with her sharp nails. "Frigid bitch!" he said to the 
mirror, throwing the wet towel in the sink. 

Just then the door opened and in breezed Mar go, his attractive secretary. 
She was startled to see him. "Oh!" she said. 

"Can't you knock?" he snarled at her. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Reeve. I didn't expect you to be here." She had a stack of 
mail in her hands. "Can I get you some hot coffee?" 

"I just had my coffee, thanks very much!" he snapped, pointing to the wet 
stain on his trousers. 

"Gee, boss. I'm sorry." she said. Then she noticed the cup on the floor. She 
looked up at him, her eyes full of questions that she didn't dare ask. 

"Well, clean it up!" he snapped again, lighting another cigarette. 

Margo was taken aback. She was used to his moods. He was under terrific 
pressure most of the time. But he had never spoken to her like that before. 
"I'll get George, the maintenance man." she said quietly. He got the 
message. 

"Yeah, that's right, baby. Let George do it. You're a liberated woman, and 
liberated women don't do things like that, do they? They just run around the 
office wearing their skirts half way up the their asses so they can turn us 
poor bastards on, right?" 

The phone rang. Margo took a step towards his desk, but he picked it up. 
"Yes!" he shouted into the transmitter. 

"Eh ... Reeve, this is Walt. Have you made a decision on that jacket cover 
for The Vibes? We got a deadline on it, you know." 

Reeve felt the knot of tension grow tighter in his stomach. He threw the 
trade mags off his desk and reached for the two mock ups. Each had a 
photograph of a rock group. One showed them in concert, the other had them 
standing on the roof of a Century City skyscraper wearing only smiles, their 
genitals covered by their instruments. He hadn't been able to make a 
decision on it. 

"Walt, I'll have to get back to you on this one." he said. 

"But Reeve, the deadline is ... " 

"Goddamn it, I know when the fucking deadline is! I said I'll get back to 
you!" 

There was a short silence on the other end of the line. 

"Sure. Sure thing. I'll be standing by." Walt said. "And relax, huh? You 
sound a little tense." 

"Sorry about that. Okay, sorry Walt. You're right. I am a little tense. One 
of those mornings, you know?" 

"I know what you mean. Happens to the best of us. Talk to you later." 

"Right." Reeve said as they both hung up. Margo was still standing there 
watching him, a hurt look in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Margo." he said in a more controlled voice. 

"What's the matter?" she asked him quietly. 

"Nothing. Come over here and help me out with these jacket shots. Then I'll 
get Walt off my back at least." 

Margo bent down over the desk, intent on the photos. Reeve could see her 
cleavage in the revealing blouse she wore. He had a wild urge to grab her 
boobs. Christ! he thought, why does she have to be my secretary? I could 
bang her right here in the office! 

"Lousy bodies." she said, looking at the naked ensemble standing on the 
roof. "Yeah, they look like a bunch of fruits," chimed Reeve. "But that's 
good. The more bizarre the better. What do you think of the other one, 
Margo?" 

She scanned the "in concert" shot. Lots of hair, rhinestones and three-inch 
heels. Back lighting. 

"This one has a certain excitement, boss. But it's been done before." 

"They've both been done before, if you know what I mean. I can't get turned 
on by either one of the damned things. But then, fruits don't turn me on 
anyway. Okay ... call Walt. Tell him I want a billboard behind the rooftop 
shot. Like this." He drew a rectangle in back of the musicians which made 
them look as though they were part of a billboard, except that their legs 
were planted on the roof. He put some zigzags behind them in the billboard 
space. "Have him give it a psychedelic color treatment. You know, 
vibrations." 

"That's brilliant! That's just what it needed, boss!" she said 
enthusiastically. 

"Thanks. I couldn't have done it without you, kid. Now take these fucking 
jackets, okay? And get ol' George in here with his trusty mop or whatever. 
Oh, and get me a sweet roll and a decent cup of coffee when you get a 
minute, OK? I'll have some stuff for you to type up in about twenty minutes 
-- as soon as I get through talking into the little grey box." 

Margo was nodding her head and smiling. She turned before she walked out the 
door. "Nice to have you back." she grinned. Reeve waved her on as he 
returned the grin. Damn! he thought, she really has a good pair of legs! 

Reeve picked up the first letter in his "Do It" box. He briefly scanned it, 
then picked up the mike on the dictaphone machine. He hesitated, holding the 
mike loosely in his hand. His thoughts kept returning to Chris, and the 
scene that morning. The knot in his stomach grew tighter again. Guilt, 
anger, resentment and remorse all played in his mind like a bad group 
playing off key and out of tempo. He felt he was reaching some sort of 
crisis point in his life, and there seemed to be no way out of it. He loved 
Chris, but there seemed to be no way to really get to her. Unless they could 
work out their sexual problems, the marriage was headed for the rocks. It 
was affecting his work, his health, his emotional life. He'd thought about 
seeing a marriage counselor, even a shrink. But Chris wouldn't even talk 
about counseling for the two of them. And he didn't want to wind up 
dependent on some nut who charged fifty bucks an hour to hear your crap. 
Reeve Richards didn't see himself capitulating to the "easy way out" like so 
many guys in the business did. 

There was a buzz on the intercom. 

"Yeah, Margo." 

"It's that country-rock vocalist you signed recently, Jeannie Jerome. She 
sure sounds mad, boss." 

That's all I need, he thought wearily, more trouble with women. "Well tell 
her she can shove her guitar up her ... Tell her to call back later. Or not 
at all!!!" he snapped and switched off the intercom. 

The rest of the morning was a series of hassles. Reeve chain-smoked his way 
through it, growling and grumbling at everything and everyone in range. He 
was like a coiled spring. At 11:30 he couldn't take it anymore. He stormed 
out of the office headed for his favorite lunch time restaurant, where the 
atmosphere was dark and the martini's generous. "I'll be at Bruno's, Margo. 
Don't wait up for me!" 

 Chapter Three 

Chris found herself in Venice, the "hippie" town where she had lived for a 
couple of years before meeting Reeve. She was a struggling singer then, 
getting gigs with folk-rock trios at small clubs in the area. There were a 
lot of memories there, not all of them good. But she felt suddenly "at home" 
again. 

She parked the car and began walking around the familiar streets, walking 
into some of the funky shops, where she bought several Indian shirts and 
skirts and a woven bag. She always had the urge to splurge whenever she was 
feeling insecure. She bought jewelry and some printed scarves, and at one 
place, she suddenly decided to change clothes. She traded her jeans and 
tee-shirt for a wrap-around sarong skirt and a sheer Indian blouse that did 
nothing to hide her ripe young breasts and her trim, shapely hips. She put 
one of the scarves around her head, added a necklace, bracelets, dangle 
earrings and several rings and surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked 
exotic, almost like a gypsy. "In her own estimation, she looked like a good 
looking whore. Which is exactly the way she wanted to look. Of course, that 
kind of garb was nothing new in Venice. It wasn't the clothing, it was the 
woman inside them that drew admiring glances from the dudes on the street. 

Chris stopped at a beer and sandwich place she used to go to. She remembered 
it as having the best tacos in L.A. 

As she sat there sipping the cold Mexican beer, she began to think about the 
ugly events in bed with Reeve that morning. She was filled with quiet 
desperation. "Oh, God, what's the matter with me?" she agonized inwardly. 
Lately she had been troubled with the persistent worry that maybe there was 
something abnormal about her, that maybe she was frigid after all. She had 
secretly thought of going to an analyst, but she quickly dismissed the idea. 
Her father had told her that seeing a psychiatrist was for atheists, that 
the true believer who was "strong in the Lord" would never need to resort to 
such crutches. But her real fear was in having to discuss anything sexual to 
reveal things about her past, things about her feelings and experiences that 
would be humiliating to divulge. 

She took a long swallow from the beer mug. She had never been much of a 
drinker and, in the hot May sun, the beer went quickly to her head. She 
closed her eyes. Suddenly, amid a kaleidoscopic rush of images, a scenario 
long repressed began to take shape in her mind. 

It was a muggy, Ohio summer night. She had been very upset about something 
that had happened earlier that day, when she had been taking a long, cool 
bath and her older brother Danny had burst in on her, wearing only his 
jockey shorts. She was sure she had locked the bathroom door! She had 
screamed and tried to cover herself with her hands. Danny was as embarrassed 
as she was -- there was never anything but the most inhibited kind of 
affection allowed in the family, and Chris and her brother were carefully 
segregated within the family from the time they were small children. Neither 
her mother or her father ever made the slightest mention of "sex" except in 
the context of sin. As a result, Christ and her brother grew up in total 
sexual ignorance. She guessed that Chris might have had some limited 
experimentation in the back seats of cars, though she didn't know how much 
or with whom. After all, he was seventeen. 

As for her own venturing into the vast sexual unknown, it was nil. At 
fourteen years of age, she had never even masturbated. 

But that night, as she lay there tossing and perspiring on the hot sheet, 
she couldn't help thinking about her brother's strong, well-formed body, and 
the fact that there was a noticeable bulge in his skimpy underwear before he 
made his embarrassed retreat from the bathroom. 

She reluctantly acknowledge to herself that it had created strange feelings 
in her body, stirrings she had never known before. And as she lay there 
restlessly, her skin began to shiver and tingle with a forbidden feeling of 
longing. Somewhere deep inside she began to feel the wild urge to caress her 
own body. She looked down at the small puffy mouth between her legs. It was 
sparsely covered with a little patch of soft, dark ringlets. Despite the 
feeling that she shouldn't, she let her hands move toward the sensuously 
wafting little patch. The delicately curled tendrils were warm and damp and 
so soft to the touch. It was a curiously delightful feeling, she thought, to 
touch herself this way. Instinctively, she drew her knee up and spread her 
legs farther apart, in order to place her whole palm over the softly 
trembling mound of her cunt. She was amazed to feel a throbbing under her 
hand, almost like a heartbeat. She slipped her middle finger between the 
moist little hairs of the outer lips, and felt a sudden inward contraction 
around it, a spasm that seemed to go through her whole body. How funny, she 
thought, it's like a little drum. Instinctively she continued to probe the 
unexplored flesh of her trembling little pussy. She worked her fingers 
forward until they touched the tiny bud of her pubescent clitoris. A 
delightful shock, almost like electricity, passed through her innocent young 
body. She began to flick her fingers lightly back and forth over the 
trembling organ, not allowing herself to think of what she was doing. As she 
did so, the wonderful feeling, so exciting and so mysterious, increased. She 
felt she had made a wonderful discovery. With her free hand, she touched the 
soft, moist outer lips. Her excitement rose. She began to squirm and twist 
her virginal young body as the flames of newly discovered passion pulled her 
on and on. 

"Ooooohhhh," she moaned. "Ooooohh." 

She was breathing more rapidly now, as she flicked her fingers more 
intensively over her tiny, sensuous clitoris, now throbbing erect, then over 
the entire slippery crevice. Each motion of her fingers created a wild, 
exciting sensation that she had never known before. Her slim, pubescent body 
was wracked with thrills that were totally new! She was experiencing the 
first awakening of pleasure; her body was electrified with the strange 
stirrings of early adolescence. 

"Yess ... yess ... yessss!" she hissed in the darkness as she virtually tore 
off the flimsy shortie nightgown that had worked its way up to her waist. 
She lay there totally naked, running her hands over her supple young flesh, 
relishing the feel of her own body. She fondled her warm budding breasts. 
She pinched the little nipples, which sent more shocks of pleasure through 
her. She cupped one of them in her hands, and bent her head down as best she 
could, sticking her delicate pink tongue out as far as possible, in an 
attempt to lick the taut little mound. She could only reach the top of it, 
but her swabbing produced more feelings of excitement in her. She couldn't 
suppress the wicked thought that it would be wonderful to have a boy's 
tongue doing that to her breast. Then she flashed on Danny again, and the 
brief encounter in the bathroom. It was too sinful to think about. It made 
her feel ashamed, and she tried to put his image out of her mind. But as her 
fingers returned to her young cuntal passage, she couldn't help but think 
about the long cylindrical bulge in his jockey shorts, and she speculated on 
what it must look like. Little did she dream that her brother, Danny, who 
was supposedly sleeping in the bedroom adjacent to hers, had also been lying 
awake, and had heard her moans through the thin wall that separated them ... 
that he had tiptoed down the short hallway ever so stealthily and had very 
softly turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack ... enough to 
allow him to watch his kid sister, whose nakedly spread body was softly 
illumined by the rays of moonlight that shone on the bed! 

Her heart pounding with excitement, Chris wormed her fingers further and 
further into the squishy channel of her cunt, overcome with delightful 
flashes of warmth and wet, slippery excitement. 

She soon realized that by fucking her fingers in and out, she could increase 
the wonderful sensations she was experiencing. And so, with increasing 
excitement, she began to manipulate her fingers in the tenderly pulsating 
hole; she increased her strokes, and as she did, she felt herself possessed 
by sweet, aching feelings that seemed to transport her far from her bed, far 
from the room, into a paradise of new-found delight, laced with wondrous new 
feelings of desire. Although she did not know what she was doing, and was 
simply responding to the deeper urges of instinct and nature, she did know 
she had never felt anything so wonderful in all her life! She pulled her 
legs up even further, opening her heated young pussy even wider, 
manipulating her clitoris and thin, fleshy vaginal furrow with increasing 
abandon and passion. She arched her body upwards, her fingers sinking deeper 
and deeper. Her breathing became quicker, sweat began to drench her naked 
young body, she felt consumed in an incredible steamy wetness. 

Danny, afraid that his parents would hear her sounds -- her mother slept 
with one eye open -- had quietly sneaked into Chris's bedroom and 
noiselessly closed the door behind him. His young cock was bulging out of 
his jockey shorts, and he felt his balls would burst at any moment. He 
clutched his rigid young hardness desperately wanting to stroke it, but not 
daring to. He knew he would cream out all over the floor right away. 

Chris began to shudder from deep, deep within her, and the intensity of the 
feeling at first terrified her. She was about to experience her first 
orgasm; the tender, bursting bloom of adolescence was about to crash over 
her like a light summer storm. But she was carried forward by the waves of 
pleasure that washed over her, and her anxiety soon melted in the river of 
excitement that began to gush from the electric nerve ends in and around her 
heated young pussy. 

"Aaaaahhhh!" she cried aloud, overcome by a wild shattering force, a deep 
and thrilling ecstasy that seemed to overwhelm her completely. She was 
cumming! Her smooth, white-skinned body, so ripe and tender, was shuddering 
with the waves of that voluptuous radiance. Her pubescent body was flushed 
with the intense, orgasmic glow that pervaded her. She felt as if the 
floodgates had opened deep within her cuntal passage and a rushing, shimmery 
waterfall of incredible ecstasy was carrying her away on the tide. Her young 
body was convulsed with deep, thundering spasms. Her cuntal passage was 
drenched in the first rush of sexual fluids. She felt herself soaring upward 
in a wild flight of feeling, light as a feather, light as a hummingbird. Her 
hips were twisting and thrashing; her throbbing cuntal slit was a surging 
volcano of excitement ... 

"Ooooohhh!" she moaned ecstatically. "Oooohh!" 

It was more than Danny could take. He had only meant to watch. He only 
wanted to witness this incredibly exciting scene on the bed, then he 
intended to slip quietly back to his room and jerk off. That's what he 
intended to do. But he had never seen anything in his life as exciting as 
his naked sister lying there masturbating on her bed and then cumming the 
way she did! 

Without thinking of the consequences, Danny ran to his sister's bed and 
threw himself on top of her, pulling his shorts down around his thighs so 
that his hard young cock and his taut balls were in naked contact with her 
firm, perspiring flesh. Chris, still luxuriating in the lingering afterglow 
of her first orgasmic experience, was totally unprepared for the surprise 
attack. She had but an instant of shock before Danny's lips came down 
heavily of hers and she felt his tongue burrowing ineptly into her mouth. 
The unspeakable sin -- incest -- was happening between the preacher's son 
and daughter. Oh dear God, would she be damned forever? 

Christ let his full weight fall on her as he writhed and squirmed on her 
naked body, his smooth, muscular chest crushing her young breasts, and his 
hard male organ grinding into her pubic mound. Then she felt him tense and 
shudder violently, over and over as she gasped aloud, burying his face in 
her pillow to muffle the sound. Seconds later, she felt a strange, sticky 
wetness gushing out between them on her lower belly. She was frightened. 
What was it? Blood? Her vagina still tingled from her own orgasm, and though 
she felt frightened, confused and horrified at what had happened between 
them, she was still floating on the dwindling tide of ecstasy. In one way, 
she bitterly resented Danny's invasion of her new and secret world of joy. 
She was also humiliated beyond belief at having been discovered, at having 
Danny see her in her private ecstasy. But somewhere there was a trace of 
forbidden excitement at the contact with his male body. His smell was 
different from hers. She like it. She liked the feel of his skin against 
hers. She wanted to look at his penis and his furry testicles ... 

Suddenly, the bedroom light was snapped on, and an anguished voice screamed 
out at them! 

"So this is where the devil finds his work! Dear God in Heaven, why this!?! 
Get yourself covered, so that decent people can bear to look at you!" 

Her father's voice cried out in rage and torment. Then he switched off the 
light and stood there, leaving the door open, waiting for Danny to "dress" 
and head back to his room. Without looking at his sister, Danny quickly 
pulled up his shorts and ran out of the bedroom. Chris lay there, terrified, 
her body curled in a tight fetal position under the sheet she had hastily 
wrapped around her. The sticky, wet fluid on her belly had dripped onto the 
lower sheet, making a cold, wet puddle under her thigh. She began to cry. 

"You'll stay in this room until I say otherwise, young lady!" her father's 
voice boomed out at her. "And if I were you, I'd spend the rest of the night 
asking the Good Lord for forgiveness. God knows, you need it, after what 
you've done!" Then he slammed the door shut, leaving the air heavy with the 
ring of his condemning diatribes. Chris agreed at that point that her father 
was right, she must be the worst, most hopeless sinner in the world. She 
deserved to be punished. 

Shortly after her father slammed the door, she heard the door to Danny's 
room close. Then there were angry words and accusations, and finally, the 
sound of her father's wide leather belt against Danny's flesh. This upset 
Chris all the more. She felt it was she who should be beaten more than 
Danny. She doubted that she would ever get over the shame that night had 
brought her, and she sobbed bitterly into her tear-stained pillow until she 
finally fell asleep. 

The next day, she awoke to find her mother standing at the foot of the bed, 
weeping softly and drying her tears with the hem of her apron. It was an 
image that was to repeat itself again and again in the next few months that 
followed. She also learned that Danny had run away in the middle of the 
night. None of them ever saw him again. Five months later, her parents 
received a telegram informing them that their son, Private Daniel G. Banks, 
had been killed while serving his country on active duty in Vietnam. 

Chris blamed herself for Danny's death, chided herself for her shameless 
sexual experimentation, and she sensed that in some ways, her parents blamed 
her, too. She began to develop some persistent respiratory problems, along 
with heart palpitations. After several consultations with the old family 
doctor, the wise man recommended that Chris be sent to Arizona, to live with 
her mother's maiden aunt. She was grateful for the opportunity to get away 
from her parents. But Aunt Dorothy shared her parent's puritanical views. 
She was not allowed to date, or have friends to the house, so that most of 
her remaining teen years were lonely and wretched. Aunt Dorothy hated men, 
and never tired of lecturing her teenage niece about their animalistic 
natures, and how they only wanted to use a woman, then discard her as trash. 
But by the time Chris was ready to go to college, she was so gun shy about 
men that she would barely talk to them. After a year at UCLA, she was able 
to come out of herself a bit, but her feelings about the opposite sex, and 
about her own womanhood, were very blurry and ill defined. When she married 
Reeve, she thought that magically all of her hangups would fade into 
history. But that hadn't been the case. Despite her desire to give herself 
to him fully, something always held her back. She hardly ever had an orgasm, 
and this bothered her tremendously; in no small part because she knew it 
made him feel that there was something wrong with him. But she had gotten 
some valuable insight from his selfish attack on her this morning. It had 
opened a tiny door of awareness in her mind. She knew what she had to do, 
though it would be the hardest thing in the world to go through with. She 
would become the thing he treated her as. She would be, a whore -- another 
man's whore. If she could be successful as that, perhaps she could be 
Reeve's wife completely, and give herself to him totally, uninhibitedly at 
last. That would salvage their marriage. But could she do it? ... 

Chris blinked a few times under the rays of the hot sun. She shielded her 
eyes with her hand and found herself looking into the handsome face of a 
young man who was staring at her intently. My God, she thought, he looks 
just like Danny! She was shaken, and quickly looked away, draining the last 
of the beer in the large stein. She got up too fast, and her head reeled, 
causing her to grab onto the table for a moment. She walked away hurriedly, 
her eyes focused straight ahead of her, not daring to look in the young 
man's direction again. When she was about thirty yards down the street, she 
heard someone call to her. 

"Hey, hey miss, wait!" 

She kept going, pretending not to hear. Then she heard running footsteps 
behind her. "Hey, excuse me. You left these in the chair!" Chris turned just 
as the young man caught up with her. His arms were full of packages which 
she recognized as her indulgent purchases of that morning. Her face flushed 
with embarrassment. She didn't want to look at him. It was the boy with 
Danny's face! 

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." she said, looking down at the paper bags. She 
started to take them. "I'll carry them. How far you going?" he asked good 
naturedly. 

"I ... I don't know." 

"Huh?" he questioned. 

"I mean, I guess I'll take them to my car. It's a couple of blocks away ... 
that way." She pointed. 

"Far out. That's just the direction I'm going in. You live in Venice?" he 
asked her. 

"Not any more. I used to a couple of years ago." 

"Oh yeah? Where do you live now?" 

"Now I live somewhere else." 

"Oh ... well, I didn't mean to be nosey or anything ... " 

"Forget it, okay?" she said quickly. For some reason she felt like crying. 
They walked on in silence for almost a block. Chris still would not look at 
him. There was some kind of electric current between them. She felt it, and 
she knew that he must be feeling it, too. Her mind was racing. Grateful, she 
spotted her car. 

"There's my car. That blue TR-3 across the street." 

"Nice car. Here's mine." He held up his thumb in a hitch-hike sign and 
grinned. Chris had to laugh, and she allowed herself to look at him ever so 
briefly, then she put her head down quickly. 

"Hey, you should smile more. You have a beautiful smile, gypsy." he said, 
bending his head down to look at her more closely. That made her laugh, too. 
She was still smiling as she put the packages in the trunk of the car. 

"Do you have to go?" he asked earnestly. 

"Well ... I ... " 

"Please let me buy you a drink." he said. 

"I think I've had enough already." 

"Then a milkshake? A sasparilla? Or how about a hot fudge sundae?" 

Chris had to laugh again. There was something so ingenuous, so appealing 
about the youth. "Too fattening!" she teased back. 

"Gypsy, if there's one thing you don't have it's a weight problem!" 

Chris stopped smiling and looked down again. His simple remark of 
appreciation touched off something unexplainable in her. She began to cry. 

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You have the most perfect body 
I've ever laid eyes on, that's all. I really meant it as a compliment." He 
was touching her very lightly on the shoulder. He wanted to hold her, as 
though she were a child, wanted to say, "there, there, now. It's going to be 
all right." What she said next completely bowled him over. 

"Do you live alone?" He nodded affirmatively. "Can I go home with you for 
awhile?" she asked, like a child asking to play with a toy. 

"Sure. You bet. I just live down the street. Come on, gypsy ... er, what is 
your name, by the way? Mine's ... " 

"No names, please. No names. Not right now." she said, wiping the tears from 
her face. Then she managed a soft smile. "Just call me Gypsy." 

Chris recognized the boy's house as one where a couple of her musician 
friends used to live. She remarked about that, asking him if he knew them. 
But he didn't. They were no longer there. The house was a two-story number 
in need of painting. There were three small apartments on each floor. The 
boy's was the last one on the second floor. For a moment Chris almost backed 
out. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground. But she reminded herself 
that that was exactly where she wanted to be ... on dangerous ground. 

She saw immediately that the youth was a musician. There were two guitars in 
the sparsely furnished room, and were the best that were made. There were 
lots of huge pillows on the floor, which was decorated with a montage of 
jacket covers, clippings, drawings and odds and ends of things, then coated 
with plastic resin. She thought it was a very clever decorating device. 
There was a tie-dyed parachute draped from the ceiling, a line of footprints 
painted horizontally along the walls from the left side of the door all the 
way around the room, ending at the right side of the door. Under the 
footprints was an elongated arrow and the words, "This way out." Under a 
sunny window that overlooked a small, cluttered garden were the words "Far 
out, Ophelia!" There were a couple of worn oriental rugs on the floor, a 
door propped on two saw horses, littered with books, composition paper and 
curious objects, which obviously served as a desk. There was a high stool in 
front of it, and an antique wicker pram filled with books inside. But the 
most unusual thing of all was a seven foot polar bear standing in the middle 
of the room with blinking lights for eyes, and colored light bulbs in its 
mouth and paws! 

"That's Fred," he explained as she looked at the stuffed bear with 
wonderment. "He keeps the wolf from the door, and a few other creeps. Bet he 
never thought he'd wind up as a light fixture ... not to mention Burns 
detective!" 

"That absolutely ingenious! I love him!" Chris enthused. The young man went 
into the kitchen. She could hear him rummaging around in the refrigerator. 
"Feel like something cool?" he asked. 

"Fine." He appeared shortly with a pitcher of red liquid and two glasses. 
"Hawaiian punch." he grinned. "It's very low calorie." 

They sat on the huge pillows on the floor and talked about a lot of things. 
At one point he rolled a joint, and they shared it together. He had a 
delightful sense of humor, and Chris felt very relaxed with him, except that 
he did bear an uncomfortable resemblance to her dead brother. But that was 
what had drawn her to him so magnetically. She felt somehow as though she 
were in the grip of fate, being pulled into a vortex of circumstance over 
which she had no control. She felt strange, and she attributed it to the 
grass she smoked. But there was another group of sensations, too. 

She begged him to play some of his music for her. At first he brushed her 
request aside, saying that he was a phony, that the guitars were for 
decoration, left there by a former tenant who freaked out on acid one night 
and that his ghost still haunted the place. Finally, she prevailed upon him 
to play and sing for her. She was overwhelmed by his voice, his total 
musicianship, the sometimes sad, sometimes happy, sometimes funny lyrics in 
his songs. She had never heard anyone quite like him before. She wanted so 
badly to have Reeve hear him. She felt sure that Reeve would be as impressed 
as she was. This kid was sensational. He had a maturity in his, a depth of 
feeling that was uncommon for someone she guessed to be no more than 
nineteen years old -- four years younger that she was. As he sat on the 
floor near her, strumming his guitar, his eyes closed, she found herself 
scanning his body. He was tanned and muscular, but not with the kind of 
overdeveloped muscles you see on those professional beach bums. He had 
strong arms and hands, and his muscles rippled as he played. He wore tight 
Levi's that were almost white from laundering. Chris involuntarily glanced 
at his crotch. She could see the bulge of his large penis and his full 
testicles. He opened his eyes and caught her looking at him down there. She 
turned away with a flush of embarrassment. 

"Do you work?" he asked her suddenly. 

"Eh ... yes. I do." 

"Well?" 

"I'm a fortune teller. Want me to read your palm?" 

"I'd never say no to an offer like that!" he shouted, putting his guitar 
down and scooting next to her. He held out his hand. Her fingers were 
slightly sweaty when she took his hand and placed it in her palm. Then she 
began to touch it lightly with her other fingers. 

"I see that you are an extremely sensitive, intelligent man. You are 
exceptionally talented and have a great future in the music business. In 
fact, I see a piece of paper. It is some kind of legal document, a contract. 
It will mean a great deal of money for you if you sign this paper." 

"Fantastic. When is that going to happen, Gypsy?" 

"Sooner than you might think. There is a very strong possibility that it 
will happen in the near future." 

"What else do you see, wise and beautiful lady?" 

Chris's hands were shaking more noticeably now. She didn't know what was 
happening to her, or what was making her react that way. But she felt 
compelled to go on. 

"What about my love life?" he asked. "Anything interesting there?" 

"Hmmmmmm. Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact. I see a mysterious woman. A 
stranger. She is very attracted to you, but she is afraid. She has some 
serious problems in her life ... problems she doesn't know how to solve. She 
comes to you because she is desperate, and because you look so much like her 
dead brother. She wants to be ... a ... whore for you. She wants you to 
treat her as a common whore ... and not ask why, not ask for explanations, 
for reasons. She can only assure you that this is her way to try to solve 
some of the disturbing problems that she has ... " 

Chris's voice trailed off. She could not believe the words she had just 
spoken. It was totally unlike her, to say the least. She would never even 
have dreamed of taking such a bold step if she had not been so frantically 
seeking answers within. The beer, the grass and the "punch" -- which was 
obviously laced with wine -- had loosened her inhibitions. Still, she was 
filled with guilt and embarrassment. She couldn't bear to look at him. 

For a long while the young man said nothing. Then he spoke quietly. "What if 
I don't want to treat her like a whore? What if I want to treat her with 
tenderness, and gentleness? What if I don't want to play the fucking bastard 
out to get laid? What if I don't want to be used to solve problems that 
way?" 

Chris started to cry again. She hadn't expected that kind of answer. She 
hadn't thought about it from his point of view. She buried her face in the 
pillows, sobbing her heart out. Seconds later, she felt his arms around her 
shoulders. He grabbed her chin and forced her to turn around. 

"Look at me!" he commanded. "Please look at me!" 

He was a blur through her tear-filled eyes. And in that blur he looked more 
like Danny than ever before. She saw the blur coming closer and closer ... 

His lips crushed hers and his tongue filled her mouth. He wiped her tears 
away with the soft, thick curls on his head as he brushed his face back and 
forth gently across hers. He placed his mouth over the sheer material of her 
Indian shirt and sucked one of her breasts. It was a fantastic feeling, and 
despite her sadness and confusion, she felt a wave of pleasure go through 
her and her nipple grow rigid under his lips. She gasped. Perhaps because 
she felt the disguise of anonymity, with neither of them knowing each 
other's name, feeling that she would never see him again, that she began to 
shuck off some of the stifling inhibitions that had cramped her sexuality so 
often before. There was something unbelievably exciting about having this 
young man whom she had just met a couple of hours before, doing intimate 
things to her body. 

He began to caress her everywhere, making no attempt to undress her. His 
touch was sensitive, reassuring, and yes, exciting! Her sobs were turning to 
soft mewls of delight. She couldn't believe that she was responding this 
way, but the wetness between her legs told her that it was undeniably true! 

The youth leaned closer to her face and looked penetratingly into her eyes. 
His gaze was compelling. She tried to turn away but once again he took her 
face in his hands and forced her to look at him. 

"Do you still think you want to be treated as a whore?" he asked her 
seriously. "Do you want me to play the Whore-monger?" 

"I ... I know you can't understand. I'm not sure I do either. I don't care 
how you treat me, I guess. I only know that I want you to make love to me, 
and I want to make love to you. I'm not very good at it. But I want to do 
everything ... everything! Please ... I'll tell you one thing about me, just 
one. I've been fucking for nearly a year and I've been a rotten failure in 
bed. Today, sitting at that outdoor cafe, I flashed on something that 
happened years ago with my brother -- the brother you look so much like. I 
believe everything happens for a reason, and that it was no accident we met 
the way we did today. I don't know if you feel as I do about it, but I know 
there's some sort of invisible cord that links us together. If you think 
that's using you, well, maybe it is. But I'm asking you to use me too, so if 
we're even, nobody's using anybody ... " 

His face broke into a broad grin. "Were you ever on a debate team, Gypsy? 
You'd make one hell of a spokeswoman for just about anything! All right, you 
mysterious wench. I'm going to give you a chance to put your money where 
your beautiful mouth is!" 

Abruptly he got up and moved away from her, propping himself on the pillows 
as though he were a spectator at a porn performance. Chris looked confused 
for a moment. Then he clapped his hands imperiously. "Dance, slave girl. 
Take off your sandals and dance for my lascivious pleasure. Ah, one moment. 
Some musical accompaniment." 

He reached over and thumbed quickly through a stack of records until he 
found the one he was looking for. He put it on the turntable, then sat back, 
an impish grin on his face. 

Chris slipped off her sandals and slowly rose to her feet. She had always 
been a very good dancer, able to dance to any kind of music with ease. She 
recognized the record as something Ravi Shankar had done early in his 
career. She began to whirl to the tempo of the music, and as she did, she 
did a sensuous strip tease, starting with the scarf around her head. She 
held it up in front of her face like a veil, allowing only her eyes to show. 
She forced herself to look at him as she danced, and she saw the growing 
bulge in his crotch. He didn't appear to have any underwear on! 

Next, she raised the sheer blouse over her head and passed it a couple of 
times across her breasts before flinging it aside. Wearing only the tight 
sarong and bikini panties underneath, Chris kept dancing, parting the 
wrapped fabric to show her beautifully shaped legs. His hand was at his fly 
now, fondling the bulge and scooting down further on the pillows. Chris felt 
herself being turned on more and more. She had a wild urge to bury her face 
in his genitals. 

She turned her back to him and marked time to the music while untying the 
sash of her skirt. Then slowly, very slowly, holding both edges of the 
sarong out to the sides, she started to rub the fabric back and forth across 
her bottom, lowering it inch by inch as she did. It passed the luscious 
cheeks of her firm, bikini-clad ass, then slithered past her creamy thighs, 
past the curvaceous calves and the trim ankles to the floor before she 
released it from her hands. She did a slow turn in time to the music, her 
body bent forward like a whirling dervish. Then she pranced before him, her 
softly curved breast-flesh jostling sensuously on her cunt. 

The young man's eyes were glazed with sexual excitement. He kept squeezing 
his genitals with his strong hands. There was a fine film of perspiration on 
his forehead. 

Chris hooked her thumbs into the bottom edges of her bikini panties and 
brushed the curls on her pussy mound. The growth was dark but sparse. She 
didn't have a thick, black bush of hair the way so many women do. Her pubic 
patch looked more like a pubescent young girl's ... the way it looked that 
night in her bedroom in Ohio ... 

Chris was becoming more and more turned on, more than she had been since 
that night! What was happening to her? She had never been wild like this 
before. Reeve was a terrific lover, and he had tried everything, but she 
never got to that point of urgency, that white hot heat of desire that she 
so longed to feel. But she was beginning to feel it now! 

She eased her panties down to her ankles and kicked them toward the young 
man. He caught them in his hands and put them up to his face, inhaling her 
scent! Then he held them up, as though he were hanging clothes on a line, 
and he did something that drove her right out of her mind and shocked her 
beyond belief: he threw back his head, stuck out his tongue, and licked the 
crotch of her panties! They were damp from her beginning cunt juices, which 
they both were aware of. 

He looked at her then with a wicked little smile on his face. Chris was 
flushed with excitement that overrode her shock and embarrassment. Then he 
motioned with his finger for her to come over to him. "Come here, beautiful 
gypsy. I want to put my tongue in the source of those succulent juices," he 
said, stressing the "sue." 

Chris moved to him obediently, like a hypnotic subject. She couldn't believe 
what was happening inside her. She couldn't believe what was happening, 
period! 

"Spread those gorgeous legs, my gypsy whore. Your master wants to stick his 
tongue up your hot little pussy and make it gush with pleasure." 

The lubricating juices were almost trickling down her thighs! He pulled her 
toward him, spread her excitedly quivering pussy lips apart, and without 
another word, began licking the full length of her softly furred pussy-slit, 
starting with the hotly throbbing little clitoris nipple. She almost fell to 
the floor, her knees buckling severely. Without thinking, she thrust her 
hips forward to bury his lips and tongue in her pussy. He was really 
tonguing her now, lapping the sensitive flesh like a hungry male cat at a 
saucer. Swirling sensations filled her cunt and stretched, like streamers 
tossed from a high window to her thighs. Her breasts were taut, her nipples 
hard, and she was reeling from the fabulous sensations this unknown young 
man was producing in her. He was sucking up all of her cunt nectar, and 
plunging his tongue in and out of her juicy little cunt-hole until she could 
stand it no longer. The sensations that built in her were like a giant wall 
of water straining against a dam. She grabbed hold of his soft black mop of 
hair and pulled his face even further into her pussy, grinding her pubic 
mound against his face as she had never done in her life. The tip of his 
nose rubbed against her clitoris and the dam broke! A flood of orgasmic 
ecstasy washed over her body and she shimmied and shook like a woman 
possessed by a voodoo spell. She almost fell, and he grabbed onto her knees 
to keep her from buckling to the floor. 

"Aaaaaagggghhh," she cried as she was carried on the raging currents of 
molten electricity within her. The man kept sucking her, prolonging the 
delights he gave her with his tongue until she nearly fainted. He helped her 
sit down on the cushions, and fell back limply, drifting in the golden tide 
of ecstasy. She had never had such a thrilling orgasm in her life, not since 
that night in Ohio. That was obviously the result of her traumatic 
experience, and the assumed guilt she had carried with her through her 
growing up years and into her marriage. She suddenly felt ashamed and 
remorseful to think that she had never given Reeve -- the man she loved so 
much -- the benefit of such a complete orgasm. Her infrequent climaxes were 
often no more than a shudder, never, ever anything like this. She felt 
reassured, but worried too. Could she ever be this satisfied, but her 
husband? Or would this taste of forbidden fruit -- making love with a 
stranger, a mere kid -- be the one exception to her usual sexual 
performance. Oh God, no! Please don't let that happen to me! She cried 
inwardly. 

Then his lips were on hers again, and his tongue was probing her mouth -- 
the same tongue that had just fucked her desire-heated pussy to cumming so 
beautifully. Far from being spent and disinterested, Chris was becoming more 
turned on! She returned his kisses eagerly, loving the feel of his fully 
clothed body on her naked flesh. His hands piled her nipples with fervid 
pinches. He traced a path of circles and figure eights on her alabaster 
breasts with his tongue. His rigid cock strained to be released from the 
prison of his pants as she pressed into her crotch. 

Then she whispered in his ear. "Now it's your turn to strip naked. No -- let 
me strip your clothes away so I can see your beautiful young cock!" 

He got up then, and extended a muscular arm to her. She was trembling as she 
pulled his tee shirt out of his Levi's and slipped it over his broad torso. 
He had a beautiful chest. It was smooth, like Danny's and very well 
developed. His stomach was flat and drum tight, the way she like a man to 
be. (Reeve had that kind of stomach too, though too much drinking of late 
had caused the tiny threat of a paunch.) 

She was grateful he wasn't wearing a belt. She tugged at the gripper snap, 
then unzipped the fly. The youth's long, rigid penis popped out like a 
Jack-in-the-box. She worked the jeans over his hips and down his muscular 
legs. He was already barefoot, having taken his shoes and socks off as soon 
as he got to the apartment. Chris eased the jeans over his feet and pushed 
them aside. She was kneeling directly in front of him, her face only inches 
away from his cock. His testicles were enormous. They were drawn up tightly, 
like two small, water-filled balloons. Only she knew that it wasn't water 
inside them, but hot, white sperm! 

She looked up at him demurely. "Your wish is my command, master. I am here 
to serve your pleasure, sire!" 

"Touch my cock." he said. 

She reached forward with her slender hands and very lightly raked his cock 
with her long, painted nails. He drew his breath through his teeth. She let 
the tip of her finger circle the blood-engorged head. There was a shiny drop 
of clear fluid clinging precariously to the tip of the smooth flesh from the 
tiny slit at the end. She captured in on her finger and stuck the finger 
into her mouth, savoring the warm masculine taste deliciously. 

"Geezus!" he cried out. "I can't wait any longer. I have to fuck you right 
now before I shoot off just standing here. I want to fuck my cock up inside 
your beautiful, tight little pussy!" 

He knew his coarse language was exciting to her. He had initiated another 
sexual game for them to play: talking dirt. 

"Do you want my cock in your cunt, Gypsy? Do you want to feel all of his big 
beautiful meat fucking up inside your sweet little pussy? 

"Yes, oh yes!" 

"Then tell me so. Tell me what you want me to do. 

He was bending down now, pushing her back onto the pillows gently but 
firmly, hovering over her, his body brushing against hers. 

"Tell me, Gypsy. Tell me what you want." he repeated more urgently. 

"I ... I want you to spread my thighs apart. I want you to kneel down, with 
your knees between my legs ... " 

"Yeah, yeah ... and then what?" he urged. 

"Then I ... I want you to stick your huge, hot cock into my wet pussy! I 
want you to ram it into me hard ... to fuck me with it until ... " 

She hesitated. "Until what? Say it!" he ordered. 

" ... Until you explode inside me like a screaming rocket! ... until you 
fill my whole pussy with your sweet, creamy Cum!" 

"Oh baby, you're going to get it. I'm going to screw that cock-eating cunt 
of yours until you cum all over it ... until my balls shoot their hot load 
and it gushes into that squishy sex cavern of yours and I fill you with my 
cock sauce! You've got the most beautiful pussy in the world, and it's my 
cum-hole! So eat it up, gypsy wench! Milk it, baby!" 

With that he made a sudden thrust forward and the tight little pussy mouth 
suddenly popped over the pulsating head of his thick rod. Chris gave a short 
cry of discomfort, but she welcomed the invader, providing him with a 
slippery, cushioned thoroughfare straight into her velvety depths. The boy 
groaned with pleasure as he continued to fuck deeper and deeper up into the 
hot, buttery channel up between her widespread thighs. 

Chris was feeling lewd, hot little sensations up inside her cunt walls that 
she had never felt before from being fucked. It was as though a whole new 
universe of pleasure had opened within her body. She couldn't believe the 
change in herself. So often before she had trouble even lubricating 
properly. Invariably Reeve would have to reach for the KY jelly, an act 
which made both of them feel a bit awkward. Though she tried desperately to 
"get with it," she was never able to feel much of anything inside her cuntal 
passage, despite the variety of maneuvers her handsome husband employed. But 
this was something else! It was all so shocking, so base -- making love with 
a young man whose name she didn't even know. But that's what made it so very 
exciting. No past, no future, no identity. Only the incredible now! And she 
was loving every minute of it. 

She felt him skewering deeply up into her hotly quivering pussy-hole. She 
clutched his heavily throbbing hardness with the inner muscles of her cunt, 
bringing new pleasure to both of them. She sucked the rigid length of his 
cockflesh with her wetly squeezing pussy walls as tight as she could. 

His body was streaming as he plowed into the honeyed furrow between her 
legs. She ate him with the wanton, hair-fringed little mouth between her 
legs. There was no way for her to escape the wild fucking he was giving her 
cunt, even if she had wanted to. He was too far gone, too consumed by the 
molten fire in his prick and his balls. He posted on her as though she were 
a mare in heat. And she was! Her whole body was alive and aching for 
fulfillment. Her thighs were clamped tightly around him; her fingers dug 
into the rock-hard flesh of his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her 
insatiably throbbing cunt. 

She was moaning and gasping, her cries of pleasure mixed with his own 
rasping sounds of pure animalistic delight. 

Suddenly it happened for both of them at almost the same moment. She bucked 
and churned beneath him, crying out in abandoned ecstasy as the torrent of 
sensation burst from her creaming pussy throughout her whole, nakedly 
jerking body. She was inundated by overlapping waves of pleasure that 
consumed her totally. 

"My cunt's cumming ... ohh God! It's cuuuuuuummmmiiinng!" she cried, though 
it was all too apparent. While she was at the peak of her orgasm, she felt a 
wild, staccato burst from his cock as he filled her cunt to the brim with 
his hot, thick cum. 

"Yeeesss! Oh, Yeeesss!" he shouted over and over again. "Yeessss, baby, give 
it to me!" 

His body quaked violently as spurt after spurt of spermy semen shot into 
Chris's hotly spewing jism deep up into her greedily milking pussy. They 
clung to each other, their bodies drenched with sweat, relishing the 
exquisite pleasure they had given each other. They kissed each other 
affectionately as they lay there for a long while without speaking. No words 
were needed. Everything had been expressed. 

Finally, the young stud got up and poured them each another glass of punch. 
Her mouth was dry, and it tasted very refreshing. Suddenly a look of anxiety 
came across her face. "What time is it?" she asked anxiously. The youth went 
to his desk and looked at the wrist watch that was lying there. "4:30 -- 
give or take a couple of hours." he grinned. 

Chris shot up from the pillows and began gathering up her clothes. She 
reached into her bag for a brush and made a half-hearted attempt to get the 
tangles out of her hair. She looked worried. 

"Hey, Gypsy, what's the rush?" he asked half seriously. 

"I have to be somewhere by five. I have an appointment." She said, knowing 
that her appointment was with the oven! She was supposed to have put a roast 
in at four! 

"Not this kind of appointment, I hope." he added, surveying her carefully. 

She shot a look of half-hurt and half-anger to him. "Don't be ridiculous." 

"I'm sorry." he apologized. "But you already lied to me, so I felt like I 
had to ask." 

"What do you mean, I lied?" she bristled. 

"You told me you were lousy in bed -- that you were a 'failure' in bed, as a 
matter of fact. Well, Gypsy, if that's being a failure, I only hope to God 
that you want to 'fail' like that every time you're with me! You are the 
most fantastic woman I've ever fucked!" 

Chris became embarrassed again. Her thoughts were half there and half at the 
big house on Doheney Drive. She was afraid Reeve might get home early. She 
wanted the dinner to be special for him. 

The boy embraced her tightly in his arms again. 

"I really have to go." she insisted. "My car will turn into a pumpkin." She 
darted out from under his arms, leaving him standing there immobilized for a 
moment. She was halfway out the door when he called to her. "Hey, wait a 
minute, Gypsy. When will I see you again? What's your name? How can I get in 
touch with you?" he shouted. 

She was bolting down the stairs and he sprinted after her. Christ! he 
thought to himself, she must have won the gold medal in the 100 yard dash! 

He caught up with her as she was getting into the sports car. "Please give 
me a name, a number, anything." he begged. "You can't just pop into my life 
then exit like this. I've got to see you again." 

She looked at him with an expression of painfully mixed emotions. She had 
already switched on the ignition and was revving the engine. "I'd like to 
see you again. I just don't know. Believe me, I loved every single moment. 
You've made me feel like a real woman -- something I haven't really felt in 
the same way before. It helps solve some problems, but strangely enough, it 
creates other ones." 

He started to protest. 

"Don't ask questions. Please, I have to go, really," And with that she 
pulled away from the curb, leaving her bewildered young lover standing in 
her wake. She looked in her rear view mirror, fresh tears beginning to seep 
from her eyes. He was cupping his hands around his mouth, shouting to her. 
"Come back! Come back, Gypsy ... come back!" 

 Chapter Four 

Reeve had been sitting at his favorite corner booth in the dimly lit 
restaurant, sipping on his second martini, when Angelo, Bruno's maitre d', 
approached him. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Richards. There is a very demanding young lady here to see 
you. She insists that you are here, and I cannot persuade her to leave." 
Angelo said very tactfully. "Her name is Miss Jerome." 

"That broad!" Reeve said, smacking his forehead with his hand. "How the hell 
did she know I was here? If Margo ... " His sentence was cut short by the 
appearance of a stunning redhead wearing a hot pink tee shirt that was two 
sizes too small and a jeans miniskirt that revealed most of her slender, 
well-shaped legs. She wore an expensive Concho belt, inset with silver, 
turquoise and coral. She had a pair of hand-made leather platform sandals on 
her feet. Even from across the table he could smell her musky perfume. She 
spoke with a kind of smokey voice that had a touch of Southern accent to it. 

"Mr. Richards, I'm Jeannie Jerome. May I speak to you privately for a 
moment?" 

She was steamed all right. Her deep blue eyes gleamed like sapphires through 
the dim atmosphere, and she looked at him so directly that he momentarily 
had to look down at his glass, but not before he had taken in her lush, 
large breasts with their pointed nipples showing under the revealing tee 
shirt. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. It was obvious, too, 
that she didn't need one. She was a living knockout! 

Reeve rose slightly from his seat and made a gesture toward the booth with 
his arm. "Please sit down, Miss Jerome," he said. She slid into the booth, 
opposite Reeve. 

"May I buy you a drink, Miss Jerome?" he said with feigned politeness. 

"Thank you, no," she declined. 

"Please, Miss Jerome. I don't like to drink alone unless I am alone. What 
would you have ... some Dubonnet on the rocks? ... a daiquiri? ... a Shirley 
Temple?" 

"A Beefeater martini, straight up, with a twist," she said matter-of-factly 
to Angelo. He nodded, left a menu discreetly on the edge of the table and 
disappeared into the dimness. 

"Now, Miss Jerome, I understand that you are not pleased with things at 
Phantasmix. It surely can't be your contract, can it? I was informed that 
there were several exhausting meetings between your manager and my head 
scout, Shane Willis, before all details were finally settled." 

"The contract is fine, Mr. Richards. It's the jacket title, and the whole 
way in which the promotion is being oriented that makes me furious. Have you 
seen it?" 

Reeve had. In fact, it was his idea. But he had only heard about Jeannie 
Jerome from an enthusiastic Shane. He hadn't even seen a picture of her. But 
he was chicken -- he lied. "Eh, no, no, I haven't as yet. You were just 
recently signed with us. We don't sign many female vocalists; they're hard 
to sell." 

"So that's why you feel you have to use a blatantly sexist approach, I 
suppose? Hot Melons -- I mean, really, Mr. Richards, I thought I was signing 
a recording contract, not a contract to appear as a Playboy centerfold!" 

"I'm sorry if you're offended, Miss Jerome, but the fact is that very few 
chick singers are selling these days. You'll have to admit that you haven't 
got a name like Judy Collins, Helen Reddy or Joni Mitchell -- not yet. Nor 
is your name a household word in the boonies like the names of Olivia Newton 
John or Tanya Tucker! Our company is in business to make money, not to go 
broke taking chances on every dame who can hold a microphone in her hand. 
You're damned lucky to be signed with Phantasmix, if you'll allow me to say 
so!" 

"And you're damned lucky to have Jeannie Jerome! I don't have to take this 
chauvinist crap from you or anybody else. I'm not just a 'dame who can hold 
a microphone', and you'll find that out soon enough, Mr. Big Deal! You can 
take your contract and shove it -- I'm phoning my manager and telling him 
the deal is off as of now!" 

She got up from the booth, her eyes blazing. Reeve thought she was the most 
exciting woman he had ever met. She was igniting fires all over his body 
without even touching him. He loved this kind of confrontation with a 
beautiful woman. That kind of anger could only come from a female whose 
sexuality dominated her other emotions. Fighting was tantamount to making 
love. He knew he wanted her from the moment she walked up to the table. He 
wanted to feel his hot, throbbing cock fuck deeply up into her warm, tight 
cunt. He had to have her! 

Reeve got up just as quickly and grabbed hold of her wrist before she could 
get away. He held her in a vise-like grip, and the sleeve of his jacket 
brushed against one of her full, sensuous breasts. His cock was swollen into 
hardness against his leg. 

"Wait a minute. Please." he pleaded, looking into her eyes. A thousand volts 
of electricity passed between them. There was a hell of a lot more than 
anger in those baby blues! "Let's go somewhere else and talk about this 
calmly. I'm sure we can work things out," he pleaded. 

"You've said enough already, Mr. Richards. Now please let go of my wrist. 
You're hurting me!" 

Reeve suddenly blew his cool. All the anger and rejection he felt towards 
Chris in those many deflating moments of frustration and disappointment 
welled up in him and transferred itself to this wild-eyed sex-pot in front 
of him. At that moment he hated all women. 

Reeve held her wrist even tighter. "Listen, baby," he hissed at her, "don't 
give me that high and mighty bullshit! Who do you think you are, the Virgin 
Mary? Look at yourself, with those jugs stuffed into a tee shirt that was 
made for an eleven year old! I think "HOT MELONS" is right on! And that 
skin-tight li'l ol' miniskirt you're wearing, which leaves very, very little 
to the imagination -- what kind of message is that supposed to give out, 
except the obvious one? It's walking sexpots like you who are always 
screaming 'male chauvinist pig' at every guy who gives you the eye. But 
you'd be the first one to scream 'unfair!' if the expected response wasn't 
forthcoming!" 

Reeve noticed that the restaurant was becoming quite crowded, and several 
heads were turned in their direction. 

"Let's get out of here." he ordered, pulling her ahead of him. She obeyed 
without another word, like a submissive child. Reeve threw' a five on the 
table and followed close on her heels. 

What followed was an incredible sequence of events, most of which took place 
in a Glendale motel! 

Jeannie was all that he had expected -- and more. The boldness of this girl 
was something he had never confronted before. Most women he knew were either 
girlish, shy, and hung up, like Chris, or prick-teasing bitches who 
delivered a lot less than they promised. Jeannie didn't operate by either of 
those standards -- or, sub-standards -- of female behavior. Her 
aggressiveness excited him tremendously. She was unabashed in her desire. 
She loved everything about sex, and didn't pull any of that hard-to-get 
crap. 

There were brief moments of anxiety for him, when he thought about Chris. 
But all such moments were fleeting, because he was swept away in a torrent 
of sensuality that totally consumed him, leaving nothing but the urgent need 
for fulfillment with this creature who was almost too beautiful and 
seductive to be true. 

They fucked like bunnies, getting it on from the moment the motel door 
slammed shut behind them ... 

Reeve's heart was pounding in his chest; a light film of perspiration broke 
out on his forehead. The tips of his fingers began to grow cold. He couldn't 
take his eyes off her. She radiated sensuality and a promise of wild 
excitement; the kind of excitement that he was able to feel only in his most 
potent sexual fantasies, since Chris had never been able to fulfill his 
expectations. His body was trembling with desire, his long cock throbbed 
excitedly. He wanted to fuck this beautiful sexpot in a way he had never 
fucked a woman before. 

She turned to him, her eyes dancing, her lips parted invitingly. 

The deep, unspoken passion forged them together like links of a chain. They 
began to move slowly towards each other, drawn hypnotically by the strength 
of their hot needs. They were almost touching. This was the point of no 
return for both of them. Reeve knew that he was risking his marriage; 
Jeannie knew that she might be risking her career, but their attraction to 
each other was stronger than their doubts or fears. Nothing mattered but the 
moment. 

With a deep sigh, Reeve suddenly reached out and grabbed her by her soft, 
graceful shoulders which were so well delineated by the tight pink tee 
shirt. Invisible sparks flew from their bodies as they clutched in a 
passionate, urgent embrace. He parted the soft and pliant lips with his 
hungry tongue and explored the sweet warmth of her tender mouth. She opened 
her mouth wantonly then, giving him full access to her oral cavern. Their 
tongues crisscrossed, swabbing each other in hot, sticky caresses. This sex 
duel generated an implacable carnal excitement in him, and he Frenched her 
harshly, almost cruelly, relishing the sensations it generated in his 
lust-swollen loins. She was breathing heavily, making little groaning 
noises, pressing her voluptuous body as tightly to him as she possibly 
could. She returned his kisses with equal fervor, reveling in the feeling of 
his lean, hard body. She shuddered as his warm, wet lips began to kiss her 
neck, her face, her bare upper arms. He buried his .face in her fragrant red 
mane, then he stuck his hot tongue into her small, pink ear, evoking a cry 
of pleasure from her. 

She forced her hand between their two bodies, searching frantically for the 
massively throbbing bulge of his thick, rigid penis. With gentle but 
feverish fingers she began to massage it skillfully, feeling the long shaft 
and thick, bulbous head straining with desire beneath the fabric of his 
trousers. Moments later, her other hand slid down and began weighing and 
playing with his lust-swollen testicles through his pants. 

Joining the game, Reeve put his hand under her flowing red hair and let his 
fingers slide onto her soft, warm flesh under her tee shirt. He caressed the 
area below the nape of her neck, just above the shoulder blades, where he 
knew she would be highly sensitive. Caresses there always produced erotic 
sensations in women -- that he knew. Again she shuddered and moaned 
responsively. Reeve felt his hot need for her grow even stronger as he 
caressed the satiny skin on her back. Then he moved his hands around to cup 
the softly fleshed orbs of her large firm breasts. 

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm ... " she cooed, as he gently massaged the resilient spheres. 
His fingers brushed lightly over the tips, and they stiffened even further 
under his touch. 

Without warning, Jeannie unzipped the trousers of his pants and wormed her 
fingers through the opening of his fly and into his shorts. She grasped the 
heated hardness and withdrew it, as though she were handling a priceless 
work of art. She began to tease the hotly swollen head with her fingers, 
sending shudders of wanton excitement through Reeve's body. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh." he gasped, as she skillfully rolled the thick, pulsing flesh 
between her fingers. 

With equal adeptness, Reeve slipped his hand under the girl's miniskirt and 
into the tight elastic crotch band of her panties. Quickly his hand found 
the moistly hot crevice up between her legs, and his fingers began to 
explore the warm layers of flesh nestled in the curling strands of pubic 
hair. He traced the entire length of the wet furrow, from the quivering bud 
of her clitoris at the top to the softly inviting entrance of her vagina 
below. He slipped the tip of his outstretched middle finger into the warm 
passage, gently widening the opening, moving deeper and deeper. She 
accompanied his movements with loud moans of excitement. 

Consumed with wild desire as she felt his finger slipping in and out of her 
vaginal sheath, Jeannie suddenly bit his earlobe, sending a searing flash of 
pain through him. Momentarily he felt a flare up of anger at her action, but 
he quickly realized that the pain was wildly exciting and it actually seemed 
to increase his hot hunger for her voluptuous young body. Feeling a new 
surge of lust consume him, he quickly rammed his finger to the hilt -- all 
the way into the hotly clasping depths of her pussy. 

"Oooooohhhh, God ... " she groaned, "that's just the way I like it!" 

Only in his wildest fantasies had Reeve ever imagined he would find a woman 
like this! Here was someone who didn't shrink away from brazen sexual 
contact. She actually craved it! She returned his advances with an ardor and 
passion that stimulated him beyond anything he had ever known possible. She 
began to twist her hips against his finger, opening her pussy as wide as 
possible to admit him entrance, all the while stroking and massaging his 
huge, iron-hard cock and balls. Reeve surrendered completely to the torrid 
feelings that washed over him. 

They kissed again, their tongues mingling shamelessly as they openly 
caressed each other's instruments. Unable to wait any longer, Reeve pulled 
his hands free and began quickly to remove her clothes. He slipped the tee 
shirt over her head, fully exposing the large, firmly rounded breasts. How 
incredibly appealing she was, he thought, standing there in her tight 
miniskirt and Concho belt, her naked breasts rising and falling with the 
tides of her passion. 

Smiling at his undisguised look of admiration, Jeannie quickly slipped off 
his tie and undid his shirt, pulling it off and throwing it on the motel 
dresser, next to her tee shirt. She ran her hands over the curling hair of 
his chest, and across the rippling, wavy muscles of his stomach. 

"Nice." she said, her eyes bright with desire. 

Slowly she unhitched her wide belt and let it drop to the floor, then 
unbuckled her sandals and kicked them off. Without them, she was three 
inches shorter, which made her seem doll-like. She unzipped her miniskirt 
and lowered it very slowly over her hips. Gracefully, she stepped out of the 
short garment and put it with the other clothing on the dresser. Seeing her 
standing there in only her sheer, black panties, Reeve suddenly found it 
hard to breathe. His cock, already swollen with excitement, stiffened even 
more, and for one wildly improbable moment he thought he would cum just from 
looking at her. Her eyes never left his face as, with a lascivious smile, 
she slipped out of her panties, exposing the inviting triangle of softly 
curling cunt hair between her legs. 

Then she began to unbuckle his belt. He stood there, trembling like a 
stallion as Jeannie removed his pants and undershorts. In a few moments, he 
was completely divested of clothes and she gazed admiringly at his nakedly 
powerful body. 

"You're beautiful," she said, her voice husky with desire. 

"You are too ... " he replied, his eyes roaming every lush curve, every 
inviting crevice of her voluptuous young curves. 

She moved into him, her hands greedily clasping his hard body as she ran her 
hands over his shoulders, his hips and thighs before grasping the huge, 
hotly pulsating shaft of flesh between his legs. Then she grabbed his 
distended balls and tickled, massaged and squeezed them in her fingers. 

"Oh, I want you, Reeve!" she cried. "Please, please fuck me now!" 

Quickly she backed up towards the king-sized bed, pulling him along with her 
by his rigid cock. She lay back, then scooted up towards the headboard, 
spreading her gorgeous legs in an open invitation for him to shove his hot 
prick into her cunt. Reeve knelt between her widespread legs without 
hesitation, placing his massively throbbing cock against the warmly 
moistened lips of her cunt. Slowly, savoring every hot shiver of delight 
that ran through him. he pushed his lust-engorged penis into the heatedly 
pulsating vaginal slit, feeling the warm hot cunt flesh sliding like hotly 
flowing jello over the head of his cock and then slowly nibbling down his 
fleshy staff. 

Jeannie closed her eyes and groaned in ecstasy. "Ooooooooooohhhhh ... you 
feel so good. Soooooooo gooooooooood!" 

With one smooth thrust, Reeve slid deeply into her; deeper, deeper, deeper 
up into her belly until finally the swollen cockhead brushed against the tip 
of her spongy cervix far up inside. Arching perfectly over her, with most of 
his weight on his knees and elbows, he began to fuck slowly in and out of 
her hotly clasping cunt, with his rock-hard cock moving snugly against the 
tightly ensheathing walls of her pussy. God, he thought with amazement, how 
he loved to feel the sensitive coronal ridge of his cockhead slipping up and 
down her tight little cunt! He pulled out so that only the tip was concealed 
in the excitedly throbbing little furrow, then, with a groan, he plunged in 
again deeply as the girl mewled and writhed beneath him in wild, ecstatic 
pleasure. He repeated this over and over, increasing his tempo as he went. 
Jeannie began to move her pelvis up and down in perfect rhythm with his 
motions, her hot vaginal walls clasping hungrily at his rhythmically pumping 
rod. She felt her muscles relaxing and her pussy opening like a flowering 
lotus to receive his huge pole of rigid flesh, as she slowly -- almost as if 
in slow motion -- wrapped her long slender legs around his naked buttocks. 

Reeve was experiencing an intense new kind of freedom that was carrying him 
to realms of sensuality he had never known before! His mind churned with a 
thousand whirlwind thoughts. 

"I'm actually screwing a fabulously beautiful woman who I just met a couple 
of hours ago! God! I'd never think of doing this under any circumstances! 
But it feels so good! It's just so goddamned exciting, so great, I just 
don't give a shit! I'd fuck her any place, any time of the day or night! 
I've had to eat crow with Chris, to hold back, to take second best or 
nothing at all. Poor Chris, poor screwed-up little frigid bitch of a wife! I 
always had to treat her like a fragile figurine, like a paper doll, and it 
took a lot out of me. But with this wild sex machine under me, trying her 
best to out-fuck me, I'm a man again! I feel like the biggest stud that ever 
rolled down the pike. I'm fucking ten feet tall! 

He felt exuberant, triumphant, and he drove his huge, heatedly throbbing 
cock into her hot, receptive little cunt with even greater sexual abandon. 

"Oh, baby, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy like it's never been 
fucked in its whole life, FUCK it!" 

"Yesssssss! Fuck it!" she cried, urging him on. 'Tuck it hard, baby, FUCK IT 
HARD!" 

Every muscle in Reeve's body moved with precision, as his sperm-bloated 
balls spanked the ripe, rosy ass-cheeks of his eager partner each time he 
slammed his cock into her pussy. They were both gasping and panting with 
sexual delirium, oblivious of everything but the fantastic sensations in 
their genitals as they gripped each other's bodies tightly and raked each 
other's heated flesh in a frenzied expression of lustful need for ecstatic 
release. The only thing that mattered at that moment, as far as Reeve was 
concerned, was fucking this hotly squirming sexpot, fucking her wonderfully 
versatile pussy, and bringing them both to an explosive climax at the same 
time. He pumped his pelvis violently, his enormous prick driving into her 
with incredible force and hardness. 

He screwed her without mercy, his hard muscular buttocks like boulders, his 
long thick cock swollen to the bursting point, slicing into her mercilessly. 

She was screaming like a banshee, reveling in the brutal strokes she 
received. This was just how she liked it! The harder he drove into her, the 
more she wanted! She felt free and totally alive! She loved the feeling of 
his iron-hard prick tearing at her, plunging along the widening, shuddering 
walls of her hotly impatient pussy. She moaned with delight as he began to 
suck and bite her nipples, piercing her with little sparks of pleasure. 

"Yeeeeeeeeessss! Ooooooooohhh, geezus, yeeeeeeesss!" she cried. "Cock me, 
baby. Cock me! Fill my hot pussy with your beautiful cum!" 

Reeve was charged to the full extent of his manhood now. He felt he was at 
last experiencing the kind of charge that he had been looking for all his 
life, at least, unconsciously looking for. He smote her like a god of old, 
ramming his driving cock into her wetly pulsing vagina, that opened greedily 
to receive all of his gift. He felt the restless seed begin to surge and 
gather in his loins. His lust-swollen testicles, slapping at her soft, 
puckered little anal mouth began to beg to be delivered of their white hot 
cum, and he redoubled his efforts to make her cum with him. 

Jeannie picked up on the signal, and she humped back at him with greater 
ferocity. The throbbing in her cuntal sheath increased, as rhapsodic waves 
of pleasure shot through her craving loins with tingles of wanton delight. 
She ground her naked young body up against his rigidly long shaft and cried 
out in pleasure as the first powerful surges of her orgasm hit her. 

"I'm cuuuuuuuuuummmiinnngggg!" she screamed, ''Aaaaaaaagggghhh! 
Aaaaaaggghh!'' 

Reeve burst inside her, racked by the wildly thrilling orgasm that sent 
electric shocks of indescribable pleasure throughout his body. He gasped and 
groaned and grunted as his massively pulsating cock spewed spurt after spurt 
of hotly spewing semen deep up into her wetly clasping cunt. 

Jeannie's belly was flooded with a warmly exciting wetness which spread its 
thrilling heat throughout her body, as her long, slender legs and pelvis 
thrashed wildly in the air. Her own hot cuntal juices flowed freely as she 
was tossed crazily about on a turbulent ocean of joy, consumed by the 
ecstasy of orgasm, floating on wave after wave of pure pleasure. She was 
lost in a universe of creamy whiteness as Reeve's hot male essence spurted 
deeply into her vaginal cave, setting off new and even more powerful 
explosions of sensuality. 

Releasing himself fully, ejaculating wantonly into this voluptuous, exciting 
woman that he had met only a short time ago gave Reeve an incredible sense 
of power and erotic freedom that he had always denied himself. He poured his 
thick stream of cum into her hotly milking pussy in a manner never possible 
with his young wife. His eyes were glazed as he emptied himself 
triumphantly, knowing as he did so that he had never before enjoyed such a 
total, uninhibited, absolutely fantastic release. 

"Oooooouuuuuggggghhh." he groaned as the last drop of his manly essence 
drained into her. 

Still he kept pumping her, and she returned his movements, until he felt his 
spent cock begin to grow flaccid inside her. They lay there for a long 
while, until their breathing had returned to normal. They looked at each 
other and grinned. They began to kiss each other, softly at first, then with 
renewed sexual interest. His cock began to swell inside her again. Before 
long they were fucking like minks, fucking their way to another heated and 
thrilling climax. Before they parted, they had fucked each other silly 
several more times, and sucked each other off more than once. It was one 
uninterrupted orgy of fucking and sucking, and Reeve learned that he was one 
hell of a stud after all! But then, it took one hell of a woman to bring it 
out of him. 

At one point he called Chris to tell her he would be home later than usual, 
and not to put the roast in until he got there. But she was out, and he said 
the hell with her to himself and hung up. 

Finally, it was seven o'clock. Reluctantly, they left the motel and Jeannie 
dropped him off at his car. After one more long embrace, Reeve gunned the 
Pantera in the direction of Doheney Drive. 

 Chapter Five 

Chris had rushed home frantically, getting a speeding ticket from one of 
LA's Finest. Shakily she put the roast in the oven and turned it fifty 
degrees higher than it should be cooked at. She took another shower and 
washed her hair again, afraid that Reeve would be able to detect the young 
boy's smell on her. Then she hid the purchases in the back of her closet and 
burned the bags and sales slips in the incinerator. She put fresh flowers on 
the table and made one of Reeve's favorite salads. Then she put on a long 
"at home" dress, the red one that Reeve particularly liked. 

She had thought of telling him what had happened, of confessing everything 
to him -- she wanted to share her sexual self-discovery with him. Reeve was 
almost a father figure, though he was only five years older than she. Many 
times he had held her in his arms, comforting her when the ghosts of her 
past would gather in her mind, or when she felt troubled and depressed about 
things -- as she often did. Her sexual immaturity affected every other area 
of her life, and kept her from realizing herself fully as a woman. 

Now, sitting in the well-appointed living room, watching television and 
waiting for her handsome husband to come home, she knew that she would have 
to bear the burden of her extramarital escapade herself, that she probably 
would never be able to tell him. 

She was consumed by conflicting feelings. She felt deeply guilty about the 
afternoon with the sensitive musician, but thinking about him and the 
exciting hours they shared together, also sent shivers down her spine. She 
knew she had no right to such thoughts. She hoped that Reeve's warm, loving 
arms could wipe away this sudden madness. She was anxious for him to come 
home. She needed to see him, needed reassurance that everything was still 
all right between them. After all, he was very angry and frustrated when he 
left for work. So was she. Neither of them knew how the other was feeling. 
But she badly wanted to make it up to him for all those moments of 
frustration and less than total enjoyment. Maybe tonight would be the night! 

But as the hours ticked away, Chris realized that Reeve was not coming home 
at his usual time. Six o'clock passed, then seven, and he hadn't even phoned 
to say he would be late. The thought that perhaps he had phoned earlier 
jarred her, but it was somewhat reassuring, too. 

Chris started to feel very anxious as the minutes ticked by and there was no 
sign of her husband. She became intensely resentful, as if his lateness was 
a way for him to torment her even further. She inhaled deeply on her 
cigarette and began pacing about the smart, modern furnishings of their 
house, wondering where he was. At the next instant, she was thinking of the 
musician, and another surging wave of desire passed through her. She really 
liked him. He was so sweet, and funny and sensitive and sexy. He had done a 
lot for her; he'd done in a few short hours what a psychiatrist might take 
years to accomplish: he had -- at least, partially -- freed her from some of 
the sexual chains she had carried for so long; he had freed her latent 
sexuality. Would she be able to blossom into full sexual womanhood with her 
own husband, who was not a stranger? 

Suddenly she heard the Pantera pull into the driveway. Her body tensed, her 
heart beat faster. She was frightened and unsure of what she would say to 
him. 

Reeve barely looked at her as he breezed into the house. "Sorry I'm late." 
he said insincerely. "I phoned you this afternoon, but you were out." 

"Oh, what time was that?" she asked anxiously. 

"Four, maybe five o'clock." 

"I went shopping. Just lost track of time, I suppose." 

"Find anything interesting?" he asked disinterestedly, pouring himself a 
drink. He didn't offer her one because she usually declined. 

"Not really. Could I have one, too, please?" she asked anxiously. She'd lied 
about the purchases, not because she didn't want him to know how much she 
had spent. They had plenty of money for their needs, and he was very 
generous with her. No, she lied because she didn't want to have to explain 
where she had gone. She might get rattled, and that could lead her to a 
painful confession. This was definitely not the time. He was offhanded, 
remote. Chris sensed that he was still angry, or that there was something 
else that made him act the way he did. 

They sat there making small talk while they sipped their drinks. He talked 
about some of the problems at the office; he asked how her day had gone. He 
read the paper, and from time to time, would comment on some news item, or 
swear at the decline of one of their stocks. There was no communication 
between them, no warmth, no joy. They ate dinner in uncomfortable silence, 
each aware of the other's embarrassment; each diverted by feelings of guilt, 
anger and anxiety -- not to mention the twinges of lust generated by 
memories of the exciting encounters they had each had that afternoon with 
people they had just met. If they could have shared each other's experiences 
as dispassionate observers watching an instant replay, they might have found 
the whole scene very funny. But of course, they both had something to hide, 
not realizing that the sins of one of them cancelled out the sins of the 
other. That night, as they lay in bed together, Chris made an attempt to be 
affectionate, in hopes that Reeve would be moved to initiate some kind of 
love making between them, but he just kissed her lightly on the forehead, 
and then turned his back to her saying he was wiped out. In moments, he was 
asleep, leaving her to cry softly into her pillow. She felt lonely and 
confused, unable to sort her thoughts out clearly. She was miserable. 

Reeve overslept, leaving him no time for breakfast. He seemed preoccupied, 
anxious to get out of the house. He kissed her on the cheek as she stood 
leaning against the kitchen counter. Then he headed for the door. 

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said hastily, "I've got a dinner meeting and a 
bull session tonight with some guys from a small company we're negotiating 
to buy. I'll be home late. Why don't you call one of your girl friends and 
have dinner together and go to a flick or something? You've been pretty lax 
about keeping the old school ties going, don't you think?" 

"I suppose I have. Maybe I'll do that ... maybe I'll go see a friend." she 
said softly. "Hope your meeting is successful." 

"I'm certain it will be," he smiled. "Bye bye." 

And he was out the door, tearing out of the garage and down the broad 
street. 

Chris stood there for a moment, that awful knot of anxiety rising in her 
chest again. He hadn't mentioned anything about negotiations with another 
company before. Is it possible that he's having ... an affair? she thought 
suddenly. The idea loomed up in her mind with terrifying reality. She tried 
to dismiss the thought, reasoning that she was just projecting her own 
guilt. Still, Reeve had been unusually aloof. He didn't seem angry, just 
distant. That wasn't like him, really. They had had so many disappointing 
experiences in bed before, and he might be angry for a while, but he would 
always phone her from the office sometime during the day and they would find 
some reason to laugh about something and the unpleasantness would be swept 
discreetly under the carpet. 

She had sensed that he was lying, that there was another reason why he 
wouldn't be home until late. Can he be cheating on me? Maybe he's finally 
given up hopes of bringing me around! 

She poured herself another cup of coffee, had several more cigarettes and 
tried to sort out her thoughts. She was as nervous as a cat. Finally, she 
thumbed through her list of names and addresses and reached for the phone. 
She talked to several friends whom she hadn't seen for several weeks. It 
helped. She even arranged to have lunch with one of them, a girl she had 
been close to at UCLA. They were to meet at the health club she belonged to 
for a good workout, a sauna and a massage, then have lunch at The Daisy. 
Chris decided to wear another of her new ensembles. She could tell Reeve 
that she purchased the things that day, while shopping with her friend. 
Perfect! 

She stamped out her cigarette and got up to get dressed. 

 Chapter Six 

When Reeve got to his office he found his secretary, Margo, already hard at 
work. She looked up at him anxiously. 

"Oh, Reeve," she said, "I'm really sorry about that Jeannie Jerome thing. 
She didn't get the information from me, I can assure you. Sweet talked one 
of the office boys into letting her know where you were having lunch. Did 
she hassle you a lot?" 

Reeve gave her a reassuring smile. "We worked it out," he said 
enigmatically. 

"I was worried when you didn't come back to the office and didn't phone. I 
knew how uptight you were when you left," she added, hinting for an 
explanation. "The flack was flying around here." 

"I apologize, Margo. I should have let you know. But I was just up to here 
with it, you know? So I spent the rest of the afternoon swatting golf balls 
and lying by the pool. My own little busman's holiday," he lied. "Eh, did my 
wife call yesterday afternoon?" 

"Why no, boss. Is everything okay between you two?" 

"Oh, sure. Sure. Peaches and cream." 

"She's a doll." 

"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me, Margo, I have a couple of important calls 
to make. I'll buzz you in a few minutes. We've got a wagon load of work this 
morning." 

As soon as Margo had gone, Reeve reached for the phone and dialed the number 
Jeannie had given him. It was only nine thirty; she might be asleep. But he 
couldn't wait any longer. His thoughts had been full of her all morning. 
Whatever anxiety or tension he might have felt was overridden by the intense 
desire to fuck her again, to touch her, to feel once more the pounding 
excitement that had roared through his body the day before, releasing 
feelings he hadn't known were possible. 

"Hello?" she said finally, after several interminable rings of the phone. 
Her voice was husky with sleep. Just hearing her made a surge of excitement 
go through him. He imagined her lying in bed naked, her voluptuous body 
sprawled seductively on the backdrop of cool sheets. He wanted to be with 
her right at that moment. 

"Good morning, you gorgeous hunk of woman. This is Reeve Richards, President 
of the Jeannie Jerome Fan Club and Number One Gung-Ho Admirer." 

"Would you repeat that, please sir?" she teased, making an effort to wake 
up. "It listens so well." 

"I've got to see you today, Jeannie. I can't get away until four or so, but 
I've arranged to be your faithful companion for the whole evening, if you're 
agreeable to dinner and some other entertainment of your choice ... " 

"You mean, the kind of entertainment such as took place yesterday 
afternoon?" she said tauntingly. "With my wet little pussy as star 
attraction?" 

His cock was already beginning to stiffen in his pants. He felt drawn more 
and more to her. He wanted her, wanted to fuck the living daylights out of 
her! 

"That's sort of what I had in mind -- if that's okay with you." 

"Sounds fantastic. I can hardly wait," she enthused. "Let me give you my 
address." 

Reeve wrote down the address, and her directions. 

"It's in raunchy old Venice. Have you been there before?" she asked. 

"Only once or twice." 

"Slumming, eh?" she teased. 

Something about the word "Venice" rang a distant bell. Then it hit him -- 
the kid in the clipping. He was playing one of the clubs there. 

"Hey, Jeannie, I just flashed on something," he said. "I've got to catch an 
act there -- some hot kid who was highly recommended by Shane as a 'must 
see.' We'll have dinner and then hear the first set, or vice versa. Whatever 
comes naturally." 

"We already know what that is, honey," she said in a low, sexy voice. "By 
the way, what's the kid's name? Maybe I know him." 

Reeve reached for his wallet and took the clipping out. "Jeremy Stokes. Does 
that ring a bell?" 

Jeannie gave out a whoop over the phone. "Ring a bell? He's like my kid 
brother! He's literally the boy next door! Fantastic talent, just the best, 
most unique guy in the world. A really fine composer, too. 

"Super. I'll be panting at your door by five." 

"I'll be waiting with baited breath ... " she whispered, then she hung up. 
It took several minutes before the pulsing mound in his groin became a 
passive worm of flesh again. 

Jeannie was wide awake when she hung up the phone. She wanted to rush over 
to Jeremy's apartment and tell him the good news. But she decided against 
it. For one thing, she knew he'd be sound asleep. He never went to bed 
before three or four because he'd get an energy high from playing the gig 
and it took a while to come down. She was the same way -- most performers 
were. But she was also very superstitious about crossing chickens before 
they were hatched. What if Jeremy got uptight about having a big recording 
exec in the audience and had an off performance? What, if by some wild 
stretch of the imagination, Reeve didn't dig him all that much? No, she 
would say nothing. Let nature take its course. 

Jeannie's thoughts fixed on Reeve again. She had been drawn to him 
immediately, as he was to her. That kind of attraction is all too obvious. 
She was pretty blas about men as a rule, but Reeve was definitely in a 
class by himself. She pictured his thick shock of dark blonde hair, his big, 
melting brown eyes and his full, sensuous lips. He had the kind of body she 
really dug, too: tall, trim and well-developed. He looked like a movie star, 
though he wasn't the pretty-boy type at all -- she couldn't stand those. But 
there was so much more than good looks and a divine body about him. He had 
warmth, and intelligence and polish. He seemed to exude a solid masculinity 
combined with an appealing sensitivity. Yet there was an aggressiveness, a 
self-confidence that let you know right away this man was nobody you'd want 
to cross. He was the kind of man who knew what he wanted -- and he usually 
got it. You couldn't be head of a company like Phantasmix at 28 and be a 
dummy. The recording business was a dog-eat-dog, throat-cutting scene, and 
it took a lot of moxie to simply hang in there! 

In seeing him, she was violating Jeannie's Rule No. One: Never go out with a 
married man! She had learned the hard way, in a disastrous affair a couple 
of years ago. She wondered about his wife -- what was she like, and did she 
love him very much? Was she good in bed? Jeannie felt a sharp twinge of 
jealousy, and she reminded herself again that she was treading in deep 
water. This was bad, she thought, letting herself get involved with Reeve. 
Usually she could go to bed with men just for the sheer physical pleasure it 
provided her. She didn't feel obliged to live by a moral code established in 
the Victorian era! She loved to ball, that's all there was to it. And like 
most of the men she slept with, she could do it without getting emotionally 
involved. But she knew deep down that Reeve was different. She was 
dangerously close to falling in love with him, and that would be disastrous! 
She had to get hold of herself somehow. 

Chris was in pretty good spirits when she said goodbye to her girlfriend as 
they walked out into the bright May sun after a long, chatty lunch at The 
Daisy. She had had a wonderful time, talking over old times and exchanging a 
hundred bits of girl talk. She couldn't go home -- there was nothing to go 
home to, at least, not for a long while. She knew what she wanted to do. All 
morning she had thought of the exciting youth, despite her attempts to put 
him out of her mind. She had made a vow not to see him again, to let 
yesterday afternoon become a lone memory in her private scrap book of the 
mind. But she found herself driving towards Venice, afraid to see him, yet 
afraid that he might not be at home. 

There were no parking spots on his block, so she drove around until she 
found one about a block and a half away. 

She almost ran to his house. By the time she reached the apartment, she was 
out of breath. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly. 

The young man had a momentary look of surprise, then his face broke into a 
wide grin. "Gypsy! You came back! You came back!" he shouted, clasping her 
in his arms and hugging her tightly to him. She clung to him, needing him, 
feeling so wonderful, so reassured. He kissed her tenderly at first, then 
passionately, and she found that yesterday wasn't just a once-in-a lifetime 
fluke; she was getting all turned on again. The juices in her pussy were 
flowing and her clitoris throbbed with desire. 

He pulled her inside and closed the door. "I wasn't going to come back," she 
said excitedly, "but I couldn't help it ... I had to." 

"Oh my gypsy, my sweet gypsy," he said over and over again. Then he suddenly 
drew back from her. "I didn't sleep at all last night. I couldn't get you 
out of my head. So you know what I did? I wrote a song about you. Want to 
hear it?" 

"A song about me?" Chris was touched and flattered. "Yes! Please sing it to 
me." 

He motioned for her to sit down on the pillows and he took his guitar and 
positioned himself on the high stool. "It's called, 'A Girl Called Gypsy.' " 

He started to sing in a clear, other-worldly kind of voice which was 
different from any other voice she had heard: 

"I met a girl with raven hair, eyes like a cat and face so fair. I asked her 
name, she said to me: No names -- just call me Gypsy. 

She read my palm and spun my head, then let me love her in my bed. She cast 
her magic spell on me --My fate lies in your hands, Gypsy. 

She pressed her body close to mine and I felt like a god; divine. She filled 
me with her gypsy fire; I satisfied her heart's desire. 

Then off she ran, away from me. Come back!, I cried, Come back, Gypsy. You 
stole my heart, don't run away --I fell in love with you today ... " 

Neither of them said a word when he finished the song. Chris was speechless, 
and she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. Now there was something 
else to feel guilty about: his declaration of love. It was ridiculous, of 
course. He was very young. It was puppy love. But she was well aware how 
seriously affecting that kind of crush could be. He wasn't a frivolous kid. 
In some ways, he was more mature than she was. And there she was, a married 
woman, irresponsibly involving him in an affair that could go nowhere for 
either of them. He would be crushed if she told him that she was married. 
Yet it wasn't fair to delude him any longer. 

He noticed that she was crying, and he came over to her and put his arms on 
her shoulders. "Hey, Gypsy, was the song that bad?" he teased, trying to 
make her smile. But she started to cry in earnest then. 

"It was beautiful. I've never heard anyone who sang and played as 
beautifully as you do. And you're sweet and charming and a fantastic lover 
but ... " 

"But what?" he asked earnestly. 

"But you can't mean what you say in the lyrics about me," she sobbed. 

"I can and I do. I'm crazy about you, Gypsy. Don't you believe in love at 
first sight? I do." 

"Yes, but no -- you can't because ... because I'm not free to be loved by 
you or anyone else. I'm ... " 

"You're what?" 

"All right. You want to know my name? It's Chris, Chris Richards. I'm 
married. My husband is president of a record company. That's why I told you 
all that fortune telling bullshit about a contract in your future, because I 
think you're a fantastic talent, and I know my husband would want to sign 
you if he heard you." 

"Your husband, eh? Well fuck your husband, lady. And fuck you, too! I don't 
need your goddamned charity! What the hell did you think you were doing, 
play acting with me like that, toying with me just to get your rocks off 
with a strange piece of meat! What's the matter, doesn't your old man give 
it to you enough? Or is he too busy being a big deal?" 

Chris was shaking with emotion. She had never expected to see this side of 
the sensitive youth. He was like a different person, like a crazed beast in 
the full throes of frustration. She had thought that he might be hurt, of 
course, and maybe angry too. But he was a Dr. Jekyll turning into a Mr. Hyde 
before her eyes. She was suddenly very afraid of him. 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I had no idea things would turn out like this. 
I really do like you, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt and ... " 

"Shut up! I can't stand bad lyrics!" 

Chris got up and headed for the door. In an instant he grabbed her roughly 
by the arm and whirled her around. "Oh no you don't, gypsy bitch! You're not 
getting off that easy. You like games, so let's play games. My way, with my 
rules." 

He pulled her to him and kissed her brutally on the lips, raking his teeth 
against her soft flesh and biting her lower lip until it bled. 

"Owwwwwgghhhhhh!" she cried out as she felt the warm salty liquid on her 
taste buds. 

"That's nothing, baby, nothing compared to what you're going to get!" He 
tore at her blouse, causing a couple of the buttons to fly to the floor, 
then he yanked it off her. 

"You want to be treated like a whore? Well, no wonder. Because you are a 
whore baby, a little whore masquerading as a proper married woman, a married 
woman who goes looking for kicks with other men. In fact, you're worse than 
a whore -- at least a whore is a business woman who doesn't pretend to be a 
lady. But you're a whore pretending to be a lady, aren't you, you little 
slut?" 

He was tugging at her skirt now, pulling it down over her hips. She tried to 
fight him, but he was strong as a bull, and his rage made him all the more 
powerful. He could have broken her arm as easily as he would snap a twig 
from a tree. 

"Please. Please let me explain!" she begged. "I never lied to you yesterday. 
Everything I said was true. And you must believe me -- you're the first man 
I ever slept with since I was married." 

"Sure, baby. Sure. When did you get married, day before yesterday?" He 
ripped her panties off of her with one powerful swipe of his hand. "Tell it 
to the marines, slut." 

He grabbed her by the wrists and threw her down on the pillows. Her eyes 
were filled with terror. He unzipped his fly and tore down his Levi's, 
leaving his tee shirt on. "Now roll over." 

Chris hesitated, her eyes full of fear. "What?" 

"Roll over, I said! And get up on your hands and knees, get up on all fours, 
like a little bitch in heat. Cause that's what you are, baby ... a little 
bitch in heat!" 

Chris reluctantly did as she was told, knowing she had no alternative but to 
follow his every command. He would only hurt her more if she resisted. She 
knew that there was deep hurt under his rage. Unwittingly, she had made a 
fool of him, had hurt his pride. Now he was going to make her pay for it, 
not realizing her painful situation with Reeve, and her own personal 
torment. Nor could he know that she had been affected by him more than she 
cared to admit. But it was too late for words now. She would simply have to 
endure his abuse and then exit from his life forever, praying that Reeve 
would never find out. 

Chris felt humiliated and embarrassed beyond belief as the young man knelt 
behind her naked and defenseless private parts. He grabbed the ripe, fleshy 
globes of her ass between his powerful hands and squeezed them hard, sending 
shots of pain through her helplessly up thrust loins. 

"Oooooowwwwwww!" she screamed as the pain seared her. 

"Aw, c'mon now, that's nothing. Just a little love tap." Consumed by 
revenge, his mind filled with rage, he spread the smooth, soft cheeks with 
the palms of his hands and brushed the tip of her tightly puckered anus with 
the head of his enormous cock. Chris shuddered with revulsion; she felt 
mortified. Reeve had never touched her there with his penis! She closed her 
eyes tightly and gritted her teeth as she felt the probing cock brush 
against her virginal asshole. Then, for some reason, he abruptly moved away 
from her. She had an instant of relief, but then he was crawling on his 
knees until he was in front of her, and she found herself staring into his 
swollen cock! 

"I'm giving you a break, whore. I'm going to let you wet my cock before I 
shove it into your ass. That way, it won't hurt quite as much. Besides, I 
like having my cock sucked. Now open that pretty little mouth of yours and 
eat my meat! 

Ripples of shame ran through her body. Voices were screaming at her inside 
her head, castigating her as a hopeless wanton, a sinner who would be damned 
forever. Long bony fingers of guilt and condemnation pointed at her 
accusingly. Why was this happening to her? Why? 

She opened her mouth tentatively, but he suddenly crushed her face against 
his loins, sending the pulsating ramrod into her mouth, to the back of her 
throat. She gagged convulsively. She remembered how she had wanted to suck 
him yesterday as she knelt before him. But now, being treated like a filthy 
whore, she felt quite differently about it. It wasn't an act of pleasure, it 
was an act of subjugation, and she felt totally humiliated by what she was 
being forced to do. 

The pungent, masculine odor filled her nostrils, repelling her and yet, 
charging her with awareness. She struggled to spit out his cockmeat, but he 
grabbed her by the hair and held her rooted to his loins. 

"Suck it!" he commanded. 

Her mind screamed at her not to submit to this perverted act he was forcing 
upon her, but she knew there was no way to avoid it. Beads of perspiration 
broke out on her forehead as she began to do as he commanded. 

"Harder," he snarled, suck it harder!" 

Responding to his commands like a bond slave, she tightened her lips around 
his engorged pole and began to pull on it as he swayed back and forth, 
pushing it deep into her warm, salivating channel. She fought back a raging 
sense of revulsion and guilt. Suddenly, vivid images of Reeve and the sexual 
difficulties they had had flashed through her mind. She had always been so 
frightened of sensuality, despite her attempts to overcome the stultifying 
"programming" she had gotten from her puritanical parents and her Aunt 
Dorothy. She needed love desperately, needed to feel like a whole woman. And 
she needed to express her repressed sexuality to her husband. Poor Reeve -- 
he had always treated her so gently, so indulgently. He had been so patient 
with her, and she hadn't given herself fully to him ever. How could she? But 
she had given herself to this youth, this compelling musician who had 
enjoyed her in ways her husband never had. Now this same youth was 
subjecting her to the crudest kinds of torment; "rubbing her nose" in her 
newly found, budding sexual liberation. This could ruin her chances of 
achieving full sexuality forever! 

The boy insinuated his hot pole in and out of her wetly sucking mouth, going 
in deeply, then pulling out, savoring the feeling of her softly warm lips 
clasping tightly around his hardness. She could feel the veins along the 
length of his cock, pulsing with each beat of his heart. He was pushing in 
and out, increasing the tempo of his strokes as he fucked her mouth, causing 
her to choke and gag. 

"Eat it, you hot fucking little whore!" he urged. 

Even as she gagged on his huge prick, feeling debased and more humiliated 
than she had felt since that night in Ohio when her father had switched on 
the light in her bedroom so unexpectedly, she slowly was becoming aware of 
other feelings blossoming in her. A perverse, evil sort of enjoyment was 
creeping through her. It was almost as if ... as if ... she could barely 
allow herself to think it ... but ... Yes, yes, her mind cried out, she 
almost enjoyed being fucked like a whore, a common fucking whore! She had 
been so hung-up, so frigid for so long. Yet this sudden vulgar treatment was 
opening her to entirely new realms of experience -- experience she could 
only label as base and vile, true, but at the same time, she could sense the 
unfolding of a dynamic new womanhood, with strange new urges and lewd, 
unexpected feelings. 

Before she knew what she was doing, she placed both hands around his naked 
buttocks and began to suck the domineering young man's cock with 
determination. She devoured his hot, fleshy tool with a mounting excitement 
that transcended her feelings of despair, guilt and humiliation. What had 
been revolting and unthinkable to her only moments ago began to fill her 
with a sense of forbidden pleasure. She felt her whole body begin to 
palpitate, and she opened her throat wide to receive the youth's thrusting 
strokes. She was no longer Chris Richards, uptight wife, she was Chris the 
Gypsy, a wild, sensual creature submerged in a sea of eroticism! 

"Mmmmmmmmmm ... " she moaned, "Mmmmmmmm ... " 

The boy could feel the change in her, and it excited him more. He was loving 
every motion of her mouth as she sucked voraciously at his cock. He had to 
make a fast decision, for he was getting dangerously close to losing 
control. He had wanted to fuck her in the ass, to sodomize her, because he 
felt that would be the most humiliating thing he could do to her. But he 
wondered if that could possibly be as good for him as what she was doing 
now. Besides, she might, she just might cum if he buggered her, though he 
doubted it. But he had heard that some women did. He didn't want to give her 
that satisfaction, not now. Yes, he would let her suck him off. 

"Let it all out, baby! Suck me off! C'mon, gypsy whore, suck my cock off!" 

His lewd command excited her even more, and she sucked greedily on his 
pulsing prick, her own body trembling with the incredible new sensations she 
was experiencing. She was lost, beyond reason, beyond morality, beyond the 
entrenched puritan ethic! She was a sucking, licking happy whore, a 
slave-captive anxious to please her muscular, domineering master! As the 
youth's ramming increased, so did her voracious sucking. She had lost 
complete consciousness of her identity and wanted only to consume his 
delicious throbbing cock. 

Suddenly the youth's hot male seed began to charge up from his balls. 

"I'm ... going ... to ... cum! I'm cuuuuuuuummmmiiiiinnnngg!" he cried in a 
long, shrill wail and shot forth a gushing stream of white thick liquid into 
Chris's gluttonously sucking mouth. As she felt the heavy spurts of hot cum 
burst forth from the exploding prick's head, she recoiled at first at the 
pungent taste. But as she was forced to drink the strange liquid, her 
repulsion turned to rapture, and she sucked and pulled at his cock, 
swallowing all of the foamy essence, while the young man screamed with 
delight from the incredible release. She was hotter than a firecracker, and 
her vaginal juices were streaming down her thighs. She wished he had another 
prick at the ready to fuck her with. At that moment, she might even have 
willingly taken it in the ass. 

Gradually, after licking every drop of semen from his cock, she felt the 
organ diminish and grow soft in her mouth. He released his grip on her hair 
and withdrew his glistening shaft from her warm wet mouth and lay back on 
the pillows, breathing deeply to fill his lungs with air. Chris gazed at him 
for a moment; her eyes lingering approvingly on the smooth, muscular chest, 
the well-developed biceps, the slim hips and the iron hardness of his virile 
young body. She was still turned on, and she wanted to lean over him and 
kiss him on the mouth, to stick her cum-drenched tongue into it and make him 
taste his own seed. Then her head cleared suddenly, and she became possessed 
by another cold wave of guilt. The terrible reality of what she had done, of 
the wanton way in which she had submitted to him, suddenly became vividly 
clear to her. She realized that she had done something she had never in her 
life thought possible. 

"Oh God," she thought, an icy chill racing through her body, "what's 
happening to me? What's happening to me?" 

He opened his eyes and looked at her narrowly, then his lips formed a sly 
smile. "You liked sucking and swallowing my cum, didn't you?" 

Chris hung her head. "That was a very cruel thing to do to me," she said 
quietly. 

"Yeah. So cruel it turned you on like hell, didn't it?" 

"No it didn't. You forced me, that's all." 

"You're lying! Come over here." 

Chris scooted over next to him until she was lying beside him. She held her 
legs tightly together. 

"Spread those pretty whore legs, baby," he said, pulling them apart, "and 
let's see if you're lying or not." 

He stuck his finger into her cunt, causing her to jerk upwards. She was so 
wet, that when he took his finger out again, it made a wet little squishing 
sound. He laughed mockingly. "No, you didn't like it a bit, did you! You 
little phony. Here, lick my finger!" Chris was horrified, and she put her 
hands over her mouth, but he tore them away and shoved the wet digit between 
her teeth. She was surprised at the taste of her own pussy juices. Though 
the idea revolted her, it also brought another dimension of excitement. The 
taste was definitely sexual, though only slightly pungent. She shuddered. 

"Finger lickin' good, isn't it?" he said. 

"I ... I don't know." 

"Have some more; maybe you'll be able to decide." He took her hand and 
placed it on her pussy. Then he guided her middle finger down the length of 
her wetly lubricated cunt and into the tight, vaginal hole. She was 
protesting, but he was manipulating her hand, forcing her to finger fuck 
herself. She began to breathe harder, despite her attempts to control 
herself. The images of that traumatic night when she was fourteen began to 
flash across her brain again. She couldn't stand it. 

"Please don't make me do this. Please! I had a very bad experience when I 
was growing up, and this brings back painful memories. Please let go of my 
hand." 

But instead, he gripped it tighter, seeming to take maniacal pleasure in 
what she had revealed to him. He spread the lips of her pussy, so that the 
entire genitals were open to his gaze. He was getting turned on by watching 
her finger fuck herself this way. She could see that it really excited him 
because his cock was beginning to stiffen slowly again. 

He took her finger out of her cunt hole and pressed it against her clitoris, 
causing her to jerk upward again. He worked her fingertip around and around 
in circles over the tiny bud. Chris was going crazy; she was panting now, 
much as she hated being forced to masturbate in front of him. But again, 
there was something so wonderfully exciting about it, so deliciously lewd 
and wanton, that she was moved to forget some of her guilt and shame for the 
moment and bathe in the fantastic sensations that were emanating from her 
heated pussy. 

He kept working her finger all over her cunt, on the sensitized clitoris, 
down the slippery furrow and into the glory hole itself. Then he added 
another of her fingers, then another, until there were three of her own 
fingers in her pussy sheath. By this time, the young man had taken away his 
hand, and Chris barely realized that she was doing all the finger fucking 
herself! Faster and faster went the fingers as she frantically sought to 
satisfy herself. He was egging her on, calling her "whore" and "slut" and 
other degrading names, telling her to keep fucking herself with those 
fingers, that he wanted to watch her cum. 

And that's just what she did! Chris felt the thrilling surge of a powerful 
orgasm grip her body from head to toe, and she shook and convulsed, arching 
her back and bucking upward again and again. "Aaaaaggggghhhh!" she cried 
out. She lost all sense of time and space, all inhibition. At that moment 
she was back in her bed on that hot summer evening, experiencing the first 
thrill of sexual ecstasy. And she saw in a blinding flash, while she was at 
the peak of ecstasy, that what she had done hadn't been wrong, it had been 
natural. Sex was natural, it was meant to be that way. Otherwise the human 
race would have died out with Adam and Eve. She felt free! Free of all the 
crap her parents had laid on her, free of Aunt Dorothy, free of her hangups. 
In trying to avenge his own hurt, the youth had unwittingly done her the 
greatest favor of her life. 

The youth was watching her, was sharing vicariously the sensations that 
racked the beautiful girl's body. Her mouth was open, her eyes were closed 
and her whole body glowed. She was an incredible specimen, he thought to 
himself, and he found his resolve to hurt her weakening. She seemed so 
fragile, so vulnerable. Yet there was something wantonly sexual about her 
too. She was, he thought, the perfect concubine. But he knew that his 
feelings for her were real, and it made him sad. 

Chris's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him dreamily. She smiled and 
held up her arms, grasping him around the neck. "Kiss me, whoever-you-are. 
Please kiss me." 

"Lick your fingers first. Suck the juices off." 

She eagerly did as she was told, licking her fingers clean and savoring the 
taste of her own pussy. She even licked her lips. "Now will you kiss me?" 
she implored. 

He couldn't resist her any longer. His mouth came down on hers and he buried 
his tongue inside her salivating trench, tasting her sweet pussy juices. She 
returned his kisses eagerly, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. They were 
devouring each other's tongues and lips like ravenous wolves. 

"Oh Chris, Chris, baby," he said, his voice filled with emotion, and not all 
of it sexual. "God, why did you have to come into my life?" 

"Perhaps for the same reason that you came into mine. We both have something 
to give each other." 

Just then there was a knock on the door. A familiar voice called out "Jer, 
are you busy?" 

Chris panicked and tried to get up. He held her there. "In a word, yes. What 
do you want?" he called. 

"Give you three guesses. C'mon Jeremy. Open up." 

He got up, pulled his Levi's on quickly and walked to the door. Chris was 
scrambling for cover, trying to use the pillows as a shield, when the boy 
opened the door and in bounced a stunning redhead with a body Raquel Welch 
would envy. "It's your friendly next door neighbor, here to borrow a cup of 
hash," she said, breezing past him. Then she caught sight of Chris, hardly 
camouflaged behind a big pillow. She looked horrified. "Hi. I'm Jeannie," 
she said casually, not in the least embarrassed at seeing the naked girl. 

"That's Chris," he said, pointing to her. "She always goes around like that, 
a real child of nature, that girl." 

"It's the only way to fly. I'm with you, Chris. Well, I won't keep you two. 
I apologize for coming at an inopportune moment. Just give me the goods and 
I'll run home like a good girl. I've got some plans of my own this 
afternoon, if you know what I mean. Just knock on the walls if it gets too 
noisy in there for you. Bye Chris. See ya kid," she said to Jeremy, giving 
him a playful jab on the chin. 

"Smartass!" he yelled after her. But in a very friendly way. He closed the 
door and turned to Chris, a mischievous smile playing about his lips. "That 
didn't upset you, did it?" he asked. 

"Are you kidding? I was embarrassed to tears," she gasped. "How could you do 
that to me?" 

"Easiest thing in the world. What's wrong with it?" 

"Allowing a complete stranger to see me naked in your apartment? You've got 
to be kidding!" 

"She's no stranger to me, she's like my big sister. Besides, it's very loose 
around here. Venice is that kind of community. Where were you brought up, in 
the Mormon Tabernacle Choir room?" 

"Worse. I was a bible-thumping preacher's daughter from Canton, Ohio." 

He started to laugh and laugh. He became almost hysterical. "That's a gas, a 
real gas!" he said. "Look at the preacher's daughter now!" 

"Please don't put me down like that, Jeremy. I can call you Jeremy now, 
can't I? It's a beautiful name." 

He had slipped off his Levi's and was bending down over her. "Yes, call me 
Jeremy. Call me a fucking bastard. Call me anything you like, baby. Just 
keep those cards and letters comin'!" And he fell on top of her and pressed 
his mouth to hers once again. 

 Chapter Seven 

Reeve checked the time on his digital watch. It was 5:05. He parked the 
Pantera in a garage near Jeannie's house and made it to her place in six 
minutes of brisk walking. His heart was pounding with excitement as he 
knocked on the door. She opened it as far as the chain would allow and 
peeked out. Her smile was immediate and infectious. "What's the password?" 
she teased. 

"F-u-n," came the fast retort. 

"Right on, daddy!" she said, opening the door wide. She was wearing tight 
Levi cutoffs and a skimpy green halter that was split halfway down her 
cleavage. At the sight of her Reeve could feel his long rod harden again 
with lust. He walked into her apartment, which was done in warm shades of 
pastel blue, with white accents everywhere. The walls were papered with a 
floral pattern. The sofa was white wicker, with another contrasting pattern 
in bolder blues and white covering the deep cushions. Against the wall was 
an old brass bed with a canopy of white lace and a lace coverlet over the 
blue bedspread. In the middle of the bed sat a Siamese cat, curled up very 
comfortably as though the bed had been placed there for his use only. 

Reeve noted that there were built-in bookcases that held not only all kinds 
of books, from War and Peace to Allen Ginsburg's Howl, but expensive stereo 
equipment and about five hundred records. 

"That's quite a collection you have," he said admiringly. 

Jeannie looked down at her bosom. "Why thank you, sir." He broke up. It 
helped break the ice, too. Reeve had felt somewhat embarrassed at being in 
her apartment. The motel was neutral territory. But now, he felt as though 
he were invading her privacy. He knew that such an invasion made demands on 
him, too. The apartment was cozy and warm itself, almost like a country 
cottage. (She had told him that she was a country girl at heart, and her 
place reflected it.) But he felt guilty about Chris, of how she might react 
if she knew of his clandestine affair. He hated being furtive. 

"Your apartment is neat, Jeannie. I like it," he said. 

"That's the way I feel about it. I could afford a bigger place, actually. 
But I hate the thought of moving. I feel secure here. And I like living in 
raunchy old Venice. There are a lot of good types here, believe it or not." 

"I do -- you're here, aren't you?" he grinned at her. 

Then he looked around some more. She detected an uneasiness in him. 

"What's the matter, Reeve?" she asked, noticing the furrow on his brow. 

"Oh, nothing ... nothing's the matter." 

"Are you worried about your wife?" 

"I guess there were some such thoughts in my head." 

Jeannie looked directly at him. "Look, if you're not sure, then maybe you'd 
better go now. I'm breaking a pretty important rule of my own, and it isn't 
easy for me either." 

Reeve looked at her, taking in the bright blue eyes, the invitingly sensual 
lips, her statuesque body. A hot, animal excitement began to surge through 
him once again. His cock, already stirring with desire, hardened; throbbing 
with need. He felt swept again by that incredible sensation that had come 
over him when he first saw her, an irresistibly magnetic attraction that 
obliterated all doubt and worry. He moved towards her. His hand reached up 
and his fingers slowly caressed the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the gentle 
slope of her nose, the curve of her full, red lips ... 

"Don't worry," he said softly, "I'm sure." 

He lowered his mouth to hers. The electric touch of their lips, combined 
with the heady scent of her perfume, sent a thrill of excitement through 
him. They embraced tightly, their bodies eagerly pressing together like two 
hungry animals yearning to mate. They sought each other's lips greedily and 
kissed with a burning intensity as their hands roamed knowledgeably over 
each other's bodies. 

Reeve could feel the firm, lushly sensual flesh beneath his hands. How warm 
and soft she was! How wickedly exciting it was to run his hand up and down 
her long smooth back to the smooth, firm perfection of her hips. How silky 
and erotic her glorious red hair felt as he ran his hands through it, all 
the while kissing her with heated abandon. 

Jeannie returned his embrace with undisguised enthusiasm that matched his. 
She had hoped desperately that he would phone her, as she thought over and 
over about him and the exceptional afternoon they had spent together. She 
had been in almost a constant state of arousal since meeting him yesterday, 
and had found it hard to sleep. She could think of nothing else except his 
body and his wonderfully large cock driving into her hungry cunt. 

"Oh, Reeve," she sighed as she squirmed against him, "you feel so great." 

As their ardor began to mount, their eager hands started working on each 
other's zippers and buttons. Reeve unfastened the single button of her 
plunging vee-neck halter and the flimsy garment slid easily from her 
shoulders, exposing the fleshy ripe mounds of her breasts. His eyes locked 
on the warmly gleaming golden flesh of her resilient orbs, their pink halos 
encircling the hardening, eraser-like tips. Flinging the halter to the 
couch, his fingers moved sensuously over the quivering mounds, and Reeve's 
excitement rose as he felt her warm softness tensing under his touch and her 
breathing intensify. 

Jeannie slid his tie from his collar and tossed it lightly to the couch. 
Then, one by one, she teasingly undid each of the buttons of his shirt, all 
the while kissing him lightly, or biting him gently on the lips. When his 
shirt was fully unbuttoned, she slipped it off and dropped it on a chair; 
then she let her hands slide over the hard curves of his muscular shoulders 
and chest. She loved the thick bulges of his forearms, and the strong 
shoulders felt warm and exciting to the touch. She let her palms move down 
across the hard, rippling planes of his stomach that were so well defined. 
It seemed to her that there wasn't an ounce of excess weight on his wirey, 
Adonis-like frame. 

Reeve moved away from her and began to remove his trousers. She wriggled out 
of her tight cut-off jeans. Excitement was mounting in each of them as they 
got closer and closer to total nudity. Jeannie liked particularly his 
strong, sinewy legs that were covered with delicate, light brown hair. She 
felt her heart beat faster at the sight of his large, enticing cock 
throbbing impatiently through the clean white shorts. 

Seeing her stripped to her flimsy bikini panties, Reeve felt another wild 
surge of desire shoot through him. He moved to her and cupped one supple 
curving mound of her buttocks, so sensuous to the touch under the gauzy 
fabric. His other hand sought the warmly pulsing pubic mound which had 
dampened her crotch band noticeably. Jeannie returned the gesture, worming 
her fingers through the opening in the front of his shorts and tightly 
grasping his hotly pulsating penis at the same moment Reeve slipped his hand 
beneath the elastic waist band of her panties and let his probing finger 
tease the quivering bud of her clitoris. 

This evoked a gasp from the lustful girl. She thrilled, too, to the feel of 
his generously endowed cock, so long, so powerfully erect. She ran her 
fingers over the round, helmeted head, imagining it sinking deep inside her 
vaginal cave, so deeply that it touched the delicate cervix. The lewd 
thought caused her to begin trembling with anticipation. 

"Oh, baby!" he groaned as her nimble fingers played with the hardened flesh 
of his cock. She moved with sensuous expertise over every part of his penis; 
first teasing the warm head with her fingers, then tightly grasping and 
stroking the thick shaft in such a manner that he groaned loudly with 
pleasure. She moved her hand along the entire length of his throbbing cock, 
awakening every long inch of that lusty member. She paused at the thick 
base, massaging it skillfully, sending searing jolts of pleasure through his 
quivering flesh. 

Reeve slid his hand along the hot, fleshy furrow of her cuntal slit, 
occasionally letting the tip of his outstretched middle finger dig deep into 
the palpitating pussy opening. At other times, he used his thumb and 
forefinger to massage her clitoris again. Each time Jeannie shuddered with 
pleasure as she felt his fingers teasing the sensitive little bud. She said 
to him at one point, "Honey, if you keep doing that, you're going to make me 
cum right here. I'm so hot I could cream right on your fingers." She was 
frantic with longing, and with eagerly trembling hands, began to yank at his 
shorts. He caught her urgency and did the same with her panties, pulling 
them quickly down over her tantalizing buttocks and beautiful long legs. 

In seconds they were completely naked, their bodies bathed in the golden 
light from the window. It seemed to Reeve that, in her aroused state, her 
whole body glowed with a light of its own. The svelte slender form was 
invitingly alive as the girl moved toward him, undulating like liquid 
mercury. She stopped in front of him, only inches away. Although they were 
not touching, the energy that passed between them electrified his body from 
head to foot. With a mysterious smile, she suddenly dropped to her knees and 
once again took his iron hard cock in her hand, causing him to groan at the 
touch of her small fingers on his thick, massively throbbing penis. 

Without warning, her tongue darted from her mouth and playfully licked the 
one pearl-like drop of oozing semen from the tip. Then she began sucking at 
the head of his cock, and he cried out in pleasure. 

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" he gasped. 

Now Jeannie inched toward him and let her soft warm lips completely enclose 
the pulsating head, teasingly sucking and licking it, bringing his huge tool 
to a state of total responsiveness. He responded to the girl's oral love 
making, rocking back and forth slowly on the balls of his feet as her 
knowledgeable hands massaged the warm cum-loaded pods at the base of his 
prick. Loving the musky male odor that filled her nostrils, the kneeling 
young woman took the entire length of his long, fleshy cock into her 
greedily sucking mouth, letting her teeth brush lightly against the skin of 
the thick shaft. A lewd and shameless passion welled up in her as she felt 
the heated flesh pulsating deep in her mouth. She sucked and pulled at it 
wildly now, while her hands lightly caressed his straining buttocks and 
muscular thighs. 

Reeve was totally consumed with excitement. Waves of wanton pleasure shot 
through him as this beautiful creature on her knees worked her warm, tightly 
compressed lips up and down the long hard length of his penis. He began, 
almost unconsciously, to thrust his pelvis back and forth, to move his whole 
body in rhythm with the sensually sucking warmth that washed over him. He 
glanced down and watched this voluptuous creature eagerly sucking at his 
penis with a total lack of inhibition and it filled him with a sense of 
power ... he felt fully alive, like a superhuman creature. He was strong, 
potent and shaking with lust. 

"Oh, yes ... " he groaned, "yes, oh yes! That's it, baby!" Her fingernails 
dug into his buttocks as she took his enormous cock as deeply as she could 
into her warmly clasping mouth. 

"Let me taste you, too," he said, his voice hoarse with lust. 

Quickly she withdrew her warm mouth from his cock, and moved quickly to the 
wide couch and lay back, spreading her legs obscenely and pushing the 
glistening pink blossom of her hotly eager cunt up fully to receive his 
mouth. He positioned himself directly above her, his knees on either side of 
her head, his pendulous testicles swaying obscenely above her mouth and his 
face hovering just above the perfumed pussy. 

The sweet feminine scent wafted up into his nostrils and his red, quivering 
tongue tentatively explored the curling strands that surrounded her 
trembling, pink slit. He began a maddening licking, a licking that moved 
down closer and closer to the wide-open palpitating mouth of her cunt. Then, 
unable to control himself any longer, he drove his tongue into the moistly 
heated vaginal opening. 

"Aaaaaaagggggghhhh!" he heard her cry as his tongue communicated with the 
inflamed little nerve endings under the spongy flesh. He was tremendously 
excited by her animalistic reactions as she moaned, squealed and writhed 
beneath him. This was something he had never experienced from Chris, and now 
his own sense of potency was renewed by the shameless sexuality of the woman 
who hungrily squirmed and thrashed beneath him. There was no resistance 
here, no distaste. His mouth moved down again toward the fevered opening to 
her vaginal sheath and returned his tongue into the moistly pulsing pussy. 

Electrified, almost screaming from the overpowering sensation of his hotly 
quivering tongue in her cunt, Jeannie undulated obscenely, spreading her 
legs wide apart and lifting her knees to give him easier entry. She felt a 
warm tingling surge of delight spread through her body. It was in moments 
like this that she truly felt alive; that she felt fully a woman! For years 
she had suffered the scorn of her relatives and even friends who had 
disparaged her for not being married and for living as a free-swinging 
bachelor girl, with lovers instead of a husband. She had tried to explain to 
them that she was not the marrying type., that she had a career and needed 
the freedom to come and go as she pleased above all else. Of course, there 
were times when she had to admit that she yearned for the stability of a 
husband and a loving home. But as long as her life style provided her with 
exciting moments such as this, it was well worth the price she had to pay. 
In gratitude, she greedily devoured his cock and used her hands to play with 
his lemon-sized balls, which were lewdly skimming her forehead as they 
swayed back and forth under her touch. 

Reeve, insanely excited, plunged his tongue deeply into the warmly 
shuddering walls of her pussy, whirling and rotating it around and around as 
he drove his luscious sucking partner to unbelievable heights of wantonness. 
Her defenselessly open cunt was grinding up into Reeve's face, crushing his 
mouth cruelly against the slippery wetness of her furrow, which flowered 
open to devour his pleasure-giving tongue like a Venus fly trap. At the same 
time, her warmly wet mouth sucked at his huge hot spear, sending shivers of 
shameless lust surging through him. Her fingernails dug into his buttocks as 
she took his enormous cock deep into her voraciously sucking mouth, feeling 
the rubbery head brush at the back of her throat. She worked expertly on the 
excited genital flesh, and her tongue roved greedily over the throbbing 
veins that stood out along the length of the massive pole. Reeve positioned 
himself a little further forward, giving his tongue even greater access to 
her wet nest and allowing her a greater vantage point from which to suck his 
throbbing tool. 

"Ooooooohhh ... ooooooooohh!" came her muffled cry as his tongue worked 
madly at her throbbing cunt, licking it up and down and spearing the tight 
hot channel frantically. Jeannie was floating on a cloud of pure sensation. 
Her eager mouth was clasped tightly around Reeve's thick, rigidly erect 
penis and her lips began to move up and down the length of the hot pole with 
increasing excitement. 

Reeve pumped his pelvis back and forth in rhythm with her sucking motions, 
and he crushed his face even more harshly against her wet, wide-open pussy, 
jamming his tongue deeply into the pulsing canal and reveling in the 
aromatic warmth of her cunt against his face. 

The swelling tide of joy that pervaded Jeannie now had begun to increase. 
She felt lightheaded, as radiant hot sparks raced through her body and over 
her skin. Her hungrily devouring mouth, combined with Reeve's wildly sucking 
lips and tongue on her pussy, produced an incredible surge of throbbing, 
obscene excitement. Her breaths were shorter and faster and her body began 
to shudder in preparation for her impending climax. 

Reeve, too, could tell that he was close to orgasm. His balls grew tight and 
tingled with anticipation. He increased his tonguing, wildly worming the tip 
of it far up into her heatedly clasping sheath. Abruptly, he was there, 
starting to cross the finish line. His body was convulsed, and his genitals, 
swollen to the bursting point by Jeannie's expert sucking, began to spew the 
thick hot liquid into her receptive mouth. 

"Ah ... ah ... aaaaannnnnnngggggggg-hhhhhhhhh" he groaned against her cunt 
as his wildly jerking cock shot the creamy white sperm into her sucking 
mouth and throat. The ecstasy he felt as he released his hot essence into 
the voluptuous, cock-sucking mouth was almost beyond anything he had ever 
felt! Particularly since it triggered Jeannie's orgasm and he could feel her 
pussy vibrating uncontrollably beneath him as she bucked and twisted and 
groaned beneath him. He redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her madly, 
ramming his oral member deeper than ever into her hot little cunt. 

Jeannie gulped the thick, warm fluid and felt it course down her throat as 
he spurting an incredible gush of cum into her mouth. Her own feminine sex 
juices streamed from her cuntal walls and mixed with his saliva. Her sleek 
inner thighs shimmered with the" sticky issue from their love making. 

Jeannie sucked his cock some more, draining him of every drop of cum, while 
her own hot essences continued to stream out of her vaginal entrance and 
spread across her cunt-sucking lover's face like a fine coating of oil. 
Jeannie was floating, joyous and alive, carried along effortlessly by the 
bubbling torrent of her orgasm. 

"Mmmmmmmmnnnn ... " she groaned. "Oooooooohhhhhhh ... God! ... " 

They continued to lick and suck at each other gently for a few more moments, 
until their passions began to ebb and the orgasmic ecstasy faded in each of 
them. Then Reeve swung his body around and lay next to the gorgeous redhead, 
and they kissed each other deeply once more. They lay close together on the 
sofa, exhausted and completely satisfied. 

"That was the greatest," she said, snuggling into his arms. He sighed deeply 
in agreement. "Yeah ... fantastic." 

Suddenly, Jeannie blurted out, "What a lousy hostess I am. I didn't even 
offer you a drink!" 

"I wasn't exactly thinking of drinks when I walked in, baby!" he reassured 
her. 

"Neither was I. But would you like a little wine now?" she asked. 

"You don't have any Scotch, do you?" 

"Sure. But it's not a good idea to have it with the hash. It might bum you 
out -- and I wouldn't want that to happen," she grinned. 

"You've got hash?" he said incredulously. 

"Doesn't everybody?" I borrowed it from Jeremy. I told you, he lives right 
next door." 

"That's the kid I'm supposed to hear tonight, right?" 

"The same. I think he's a fantastic talent," she said, getting up to get the 
wine. "I hope you think so too, Reeve. Somebody's going to sign him up soon. 
He's too much of a talent to go unnoticed for much longer." She got a 
decanter of white wine from the refrigerator and two glasses. Reeve watched 
her as she moved with a natural sensuality around the tiny kitchen, her big, 
beautiful breasts rubbing against each other as she reached for things. 
Damn, she is gorgeous! he thought to himself. Again he felt his cock twitch 
in appreciation. 

"Is he talented in bed, too?" he asked unexpectedly. 

Jeannie looked up at him, a look of hurt surprise crossing her face 
momentarily. "I'd be the last to know," she said flatly. Reeve knew that he 
had offended her. He was sorry the moment the words were out of his mouth. 

"I'm sorry, Jeannie, that was crass of me," he apologized. 

"Forget it," she said, trying to make light of it. "I suppose it was a 
natural assumption. But while we're on the subject, let me put your mind at 
ease. Jeremy is a dear, and good looking, with a great build too. But he's 
only twenty-one -- though he looks nineteen. At twenty-six, I just don't dig 
younger men. Maybe fourteen year old boys, but not twenty-one year olds! If 
I were forty, I'm sure Jeremy might turn me on, but not now. He's like my 
kid brother, for God's sake!" 

Just then, there was a banshee cry from the next room that started both of 
them. 

"I want you to fuck me! Oh fuuuuuuccckk meeeee!" 

Reeve and Jeannie looked at each other. "He obviously appeals to some 
women," he said ironically. 

Jeannie began to laugh. She thought about the girl who was trying to hide 
behind the pillows when she went to Jeremy's for the hash. She looked like 
such a shy, delicate creature who would never be capable of anything like 
that obscene scream. It's certainly true, you can't judge a book by its 
cover! She told Reeve about the incident. 

"She's a beautiful girl, too. Really a darling," she added. 

"She couldn't possibly be any match for you," he said. 

"Flattery will get you anything!" she said, handing him a small pipe with 
the burning narcotic glowing in its bowl. 

"He drew deeply on it. "Promise?" he asked slyly. 

"Just try me." 

In the next room, Chris was again kneeling on all fours on the fat pillows, 
like an obedient slave. Continuing his vengeful plan, Jeremy knelt behind 
her. He reached around and stuck his fingers into her mouth. "Lick them. Get 
them nice and wet," he ordered. 

Chris did as she was told, finding that she enjoyed this little act of 
subjugation. It was exciting! 

He used the saliva-covered fingers first to moisten his cock. Christ was 
trembling with excitement and apprehension. She had a dark inkling of what 
he was going to do, but she wasn't certain. Or maybe she didn't want to face 
it. 

Jeremy, without warning, stuck his middle finger deep into her pussy. She 
instinctively bucked forward, feeling a momentary pain from the brutal 
gesture. But as he worked his finger around in her pussy, she began to grind 
her hips to increase the sensations his fingers generated. 

"You like that, don't you?" he said sarcastically. 

"Oooooh, yesss," she said thickly. 

"Then see how you like this!" Just as abruptly, he withdrew his finger from 
her pussy and wormed it into the tight recesses of her virginal anus. 

"Aaaaaannnnnggggghhhhh!" she cried. 

She had have known such pain. It seared her anal canal like a burning fire. 

"Stop, stop! Please!" she begged, sweat breaking out on her forehead. 

But he forced his finger in deeper, further up the tightly resisting little 
crevice, widening the entry as Chris screamed helplessly beneath him in 
terror and pain. 

"A iaeeeeeeeee! Noooooooooo!" 

He rammed and prodded his finger into the shuddering passage, sending 
unbelievable shafts of pain through her tortured body. She clutched 
desperately at the pillows, trying to get away, but he grabbed her breasts 
and held onto her tightly. Whenever she leaned forward or tried to scoot 
away, Jeremy would squeeze her nipples hard, causing her more pain. 

Then suddenly, he withdrew the offending digit and she had a momentary 
respite. His huge cock loomed menacingly behind her defenseless ass, and she 
felt her tension increase, for she knew that his finger had only been the 
scout. His cock would follow, impaling her mercilessly and probably injuring 
her irreparably for life. She wanted to feel his cock in her cunt, not her 
asshole. Tears came to her eyes. 

"Please ... please be gentle, Jeremy," she begged pitifully. "I've never 
even been touched there like that before. I can't take it." 

"Don't worry, gypsy. You're going to love it, once you get used to the 
feeling." 

Jeremy used the fingers of one hand to spread her ass cheeks apart. Then, 
holding his cock in the other hand, he made a tentative thrust forward, 
trying to penetrate the tight sphincter with the tip of his penis. 

"Stop! You're hurting me!" she cried as the pressure of his organ sent 
another shaft of pain into her. 

Ignoring her protest, Jeremy made a sudden thrust, and the tight ring muscle 
suddenly opened to admit the pulsating head of his thick hard rod. Once 
inside, he started hammering into her hotly clenching rectum with vicious 
little lunges that thrust her forward in agony. 

She shrieked out, as her rectal crevice was consumed by sharp, burning 
pains, as though she were being stabbed repeatedly by a devil's pitchfork. 

"Aaaagggggggghhhhhhh! Oooooooohhhhh! Uuuuuuunnnnnngggggg!" she cried aloud. 

This was too much! This was inhuman, perverted! She was filled with shame 
and loathing. She was being treated worse than a prostitute, being ravaged 
heartlessly. She never expected this kind of treatment from Jeremy, despite 
his hurt and anger, his conflict. There had been moments of tenderness 
between them that afternoon, when he had let down his guard. Now he was 
punishing her again, playing the vituperative suitor all over again. She 
cursed herself for ever having come to Venice. 

If she had seen his face at that moment, she would have noted a look of 
agonized triumph. Deep down, he really didn't want to hurt her. But he 
somehow felt compelled to. Somewhere deep in his unconscious was the 
propelling notion that ultimately, he was doing her a favor. 

He grunted like an animal and rammed his hotly throbbing penis further and 
further into the scalding depths of her virginal rectum, hanging onto her 
breasts again, and forcing her submit to the painful buggering. He continued 
to embed his thick, blood-engorged ramrod deeper and deeper into her until 
his large, lust-swollen testicles slapped loudly against her smooth, 
perspiring buttocks. 

She was wailing like a wounded dog, crying out in pain. Jeremy stopped for a 
moment, feeling her body heave heavily up and down. He took one of his hands 
from her breast and moved it down to her crotch. Then he opened the lips of 
her pussy and stuck his finger into the moist trench, rubbing it up and down 
against her clitoris. Chris reacted to this unexpected pleasure with a moan 
of delight spliced in between her groans of pain. The pleasurable sensations 
made the pain almost bearable. 

Jeremy began to fuck her slowly in and out of her painfully stretched anus, 
each sodomizing thrust widening the straining elastic channel and easing his 
rapacious entry. He continued to massage her pussy in tempo with his asshole 
fucking, and Christ found herself moving against him in a complimentary 
rhythm with his thrusts. Gradually, the tempo increased, and so did the 
pain. She had never felt such fiery shocks in her life, despite the pleasure 
that came from his hand in her pussy. 

Then strangely enough, just as the torturous punishment reached its maximum, 
Chris involuntarily began to surrender to it. Bit by bit, a totally new 
feeling began to ripple through her ravished young body; out of the burning 
humiliation and shame came an entirely new feeling of warmth and excitement; 
a feeling she had never felt before in her entire life. She was no longer 
able to distinguish pleasure from pain. In fact, the pain was pleasurable 
now ... yes, even exciting! 

"Oooooohhhhh ... " she moaned. "Ooo-hhhhhhhhh!" 

Chris was grunting and moaning now; Jeremy was tensed and his muscular body 
was shaking with lust. "Ungh! Ungh! Unnnggghh!" he grunted, like a rutting 
pig, burying his hotly throbbing cock to the hilt in her battered anal 
passage. 

"Y-Yesss." 

"Then ... grunt ... grunt for it." 

"Ungh! Pleeaasse. Please fuck me." 

"Louder!" he ordered, fucking into her with the force of a pile driver. 

"Pleasssse, oh pleeeaassse fuck me. Unngh! Harder! Fuck me harder! Ohhhhh, 
fuck me hard!!!" 

Her grunts and cries reached the ears of the occupants in the next room, who 
were fired with an excitement of their own. They had been sharing the hash 
pipe as they sipped their wine nakedly together on the couch. Reeve had to 
admit that the sounds from the next room were sexy as hell, and under the 
liberating influence of the narcotizing hash, and the warm intoxicating glow 
of the wine, he had once more become wildly aroused. Hearing the cries of 
lust from the lips of the girl in the next room, he felt his whole body 
tremble with excitement. He wondered vaguely what the girl in the next room 
looked like. She certainly was a live one! The feeling of Jeannie's naked 
body lying close to his sent ripples of sensuality running through him. 
Whenever they touched there seemed to be an electrical vibration between 
them that charged every fiber in his body. He remembered feeling exactly 
that way with Chris in the early days, but disappointing sexual encounters, 
and the resentments that followed had all conspired to shut down the 
current. Now, holding this voluptuous creature in his arms, he felt those 
wonderfully vibrant sensations coursing through his body again. 

Suddenly he pulled her face up to meet his and they French kissed with deep 
intensity. Then he turned her so that she was lying on her back. He kissed 
her face, her neck and then moved down to the large, firmly flushed breasts 
that already sported puckered areolas and hardened nipples. His tongue 
traced a line around them, and he gently nibbled the sensitized tips, 
sending shafts of pleasure through the willing, wanton singer. 

"Ooooooh, baby. Do it. Do it like that. It feel so wonderful," she cried to 
him, her eyes closed and her lips parted in rhapsodic appreciation. She 
reached down and began to stroke his massively hardened cock, which was 
pressed against her groin. She marveled at its thickness and length, it felt 
so good to touch, so warm and fleshy. 

Reeve squirmed above her, moving his hips back and forth, increasing the 
pleasure of her hand massage on his lust-engorged penis. His hungry mouth 
seemed to devour her round, fleshy breasts. First one, then the other. He 
felt lost in their soft resilience, the firm texture of those pliant, 
pneumatic mounds. He felt he could stay with her like this forever, lost in 
the sea of her undulating flesh. Even in his bachelor years, before he 
married Chris, he had never felt as free and as open as this. The girls he 
dated were warm and giving at first, but as he got more intimate with them, 
they didn't respond as fully as he hoped they would. He suddenly realized 
that maybe there had been something missing in himself -- maybe he had been 
too gentle, or too cautious or inhibited. He was always taught that women 
had to be treated with kid gloves, that they really didn't dig sex that 
much, so you had to lead them gradually into every sexual encounter. His 
father had told him that wearily one night before he went off to college. It 
wasn't until that moment that his mother must have been a rather passionless 
woman. After all, his parents were from another generation, steeped in 
middle class morality and the Judeo-Christian ethic, which takes a pretty 
dim view of sex. 

In a burst of passion, Jeannie suddenly grabbed him by the hair and brought 
his mouth onto hers, kissing him with a fiery intensity that was almost 
painful. He was a bit shocked at first, but he realized that there was 
pleasure in those painful kisses. He could feel his heart pounding and his 
whole body vibrating with a deep, animalistic excitement. He returned her 
kiss with equal fervor, his tongue driving deep, deep into the warmly 
receptive flesh of her mouth. When they parted, they were both gasping for 
breath. 

"Wow!" she said, "where have you been all my life!" 

He didn't say it, but he was thinking exactly the same thing about her. 

There was a series of ecstatic cries from the next room as Jeremy's burning, 
thick white cum spewed forth into Chris's warmly clenching asshole. "Ah ... 
ahhhhh ... aaggghhhh!" 

He rammed her without letup, sweat dripping from every pore in his body. 
Though he would never admit it to Chris, this was his first experience in 
fucking anyone in the ass, too. He had always wanted to try it, but had 
never had the courage to before. There was something so wickedly lewd about 
it that it really turned him on; his pleasure was heightened by the 
awareness of its source. 

Jeremy was seized by convulsive spasms of delight as his wildly jerking 
penis emptied itself in a seemingly never-ending torrent. 

Chris could feel the boiling, surging river of cum pour into her rectum; it 
seemed to flow throughout her body. She felt as though her innards were 
melting in its path. She could scarcely believe how wantonly wonderful she 
felt! And then, as her seducer's long, hard cock jerked and quivered in 
orgasm, she felt the exquisite blossoming of her own climax. She was 
cumming! She shoved her baby-soft buttocks against his pumping loins and 
shrieked, "Harder! I'm cuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!" (The cry could have been 
heard in Long Beach.) Her own sex juices were gushing in her vaginal 
passage, released by the turbulent activity in her wildly puckering rectum. 
All pangs of guilt and revulsion were washed away in the vast, hot ocean 
that surged so mightily through her writhing loins! 

Jeremy rammed his hot gushing spear back and forth as the never-ending 
rocket load of cum spurted through the charged head and into her battered 
anal passage. He felt like a conquering warrior chieftain, forcing this 
beautiful creature to submit to him this way. An ancient, primitive 
exaltation filled him as he shot the last of his white, boiling sperm into 
this love slave's sacrificial anus. 

"Annnnggghh," he moaned, as he drained himself in the virgin orifice. He 
collapsed on top of her, sending her prone on the soft cushions. They were 
both sweating profusely, heaving and panting in the dwindling throes of 
spent sexuality. 

Chris had been through the most grueling sexual ordeal so far. Her defiled 
rectum throbbed with pain. Yet, she had also felt the dark glimmerings of a 
forbidden excitement she had never known in her life. She was shocked by the 
changes that had occurred to her in the last twenty-four hours. My God, what 
kind of sex maniac am I becoming, anyway? she wondered to herself. Her 
thoughts were very disquieting. 

The vivid images called forth by the orgasmic screams in the next apartment 
inflamed the cheating husband and his hot little girlfriend to a state of 
unendurable desire. All Reeve could think of was the hot need to sink his 
yearning prick into the hot, mossy depths of Jeannie's tight little pussy. 
He arched over her now, ready to plunge into her hotly waiting cunt, wanting 
to hear her grunt for it, too. He wasn't disappointed -- she ground her hips 
up impatiently and cried, her voice coarse with passion, "Unnngh! Give it to 
me, baby, Unngh ... please, fuck me. Fuck me!!!!" 

She guided his heatedly pulsing cock to the entrance of her cuntal passage. 
With one deft thrust of his hips, he plunged into her like a christened boat 
sliding into water, and his thrust into her like a christened boat sliding 
into water, and his thrust went deep into her, up to the hilt. They were 
joined together now, and the electrifying wetness they felt in their 
genitals sent out glowing radiations to all parts of their wantonly writhing 
bodies. 

He began to drive in and out of her wetly clasping cunt with a sense of 
urgency, plunging his massive pole of hard flesh so deeply that it bounced 
up against the tender tissue of the cervix, and he could feel that the tip 
of his cock had reached the end of the line. Then he pulled it out again 
until it was poised achingly just inside her quivering pussy lips. Back and 
forth, in and out, he rowed in her sheltering channel, sending reverberating 
shudders of lewdly designed sensation through the walls of Jeannie's vaginal 
passage. 

She ran her hands greedily over his laboring body, savoring each muscular 
curve with delight. As she felt the round, plunging head of his cock bore 
deeply into her, it was as if her body were being borne aloft by a mighty, 
battering rocket. She could feel the softness of his hairy balls slapping 
against the tender flesh of her anal crack, moistened now with the heated 
juices welling up from her shamelessly aroused cunt. She closed her eyes, 
feeling herself enveloped in a white, pulsing cocoon of pure sensation. The 
wailing, the lewd screams from the next room, the hash and the wine and the 
musky odor of sweat from Reeve's body mixed with his sexy male cologne, 
brought her to the brink of no return. She felt herself beginning to shudder 
with uncontrollable abandon under the exquisite blows of his glorious prick. 
She opened her body totally to the heaving man above her, this god of a man 
who smote her with such brilliant strokes. 

"Cum ... oh, cuuuuummmmm baby ... cuuuuuuummmmmmm!" she screamed while she 
thrashed under him in the throes of the radiant ecstasy that enveloped her. 
And he did, his bloated balls releasing the life-giving juice she begged 
for. He flooded her pussy with his hot, milky cum until his balls gave out 
the last of their ration and his spent organ grew flaccid inside her once 
again. 

They lay there for a long while, locked in each other's arms, not speaking. 
Reeve was thinking about Jeannie, about the contrast in her life style to 
his own. In some ways, he envied the freedom she had to come and go as she 
pleased. He was the kind of person who needed order and structure to his 
life. Jeannie's apartment was very humble compared to the fairly affluent 
digs he and Chris enjoyed. But he didn't enjoy his life with Chris very much 
anymore. There was something important missing, and that missing ingredient 
was what Jeannie provided so readily and so satisfyingly. He felt a wave of 
sadness pass over him. If only Christ could be like that! But she probably 
never would be. She was so screwed up sexually that she could take up 
residence at the Masters and Johnson clinic for the life and still be a 
sexually stunted girl. How long could love last under those conditions? He 
needed his wife to be like Jeannie; needed her to respond as fully and as 
uninhibitedly as Jeannie did. Maybe Chris should watch him make love to the 
sensuous redhead ... she might learn what it's all about, he thought 
ruefully to himself. Or ... maybe he should call it a day with Chris and 
start all over with Jeannie? Before the disappointment went on any longer; 
before there were any children to worry about. That was a pretty heavy 
thought, and he forced himself to put it out of his mind. 

"Does this place have hot and cold running shower service?" he asked with a 
grin. 

"Day and night. Just like uptown!" she grinned back. 

"Shall we? I want to take you out for drinks and a romantic dinner at the 
restaurant of your choice, m'lady. Then we'll go catch your friend's act -- 
if he has any strength left to hold his guitar! 

 Chapter Eight 

The two of them dined at a steak-and-lobster restaurant that overlooked the 
water. Jeannie looked beautiful in the glow of the candlelight on the table. 
Both of them were feeling so mellow, so content. They began to talk about 
themselves, and to ask questions about each other. Jeannie talked about her 
lifestyle and some of her objectives. She had a vivacity that was altogether 
charming, and he couldn't help compare her with his shy, insecure wife. 

"You like your life, don't you?" he asked. 

"I love it." she replied without hesitation. 

"But haven't you ever wanted to get married and have children?" 

Jeannie looked away momentarily. "Some times. But there's plenty of time for 
that later. I don't think I'm the marrying kind. Besides, I have a long way 
to go as a performer. It's hard to be married and have that kind of career 
too, you know. Most men don't dig the idea of their wives playing the night 
club circuit." 

"I know what you mean. I guess I put a damper in my wife's career. Although 
she probably wouldn't have made it big anyway. Oh, it's not that she isn't 
talented. She just doesn't have the drive, the toughness that one needs to 
get ahead." 

"What's she like?" Jeanne asked. She was dying to know, yet she felt a knot 
of anxiety in her stomach. Obviously there was something wrong, or Reeve 
wouldn't be there now. He didn't seem like a player. 

"Are you sure you want to talk about my wife?" he said, feeling a little 
uncomfortable himself. 

"Well, it's just that I can't imagine you being married to a dull girl; nor 
can I imagine anyone letting you out of her sight for a minute." 

"Thanks." he said. He hesitated, toying with his food. "I guess we all make 
mistakes." 

"Mistakes? What do you mean?" she asked incredulously, her stomach 
fluttering with anticipation. 

"Believe it or not, she was a virgin when we got married. I was attracted to 
her sweetness, her shyness, her vulnerable quality. She was so different 
from the girls I had dated. She brought out the protective side of me, made 
me feel needed -- and I was, as a daddy. Chris just never grew up in some 
ways, especially sexually. She's got so many hangups that way. I thought I 
could bring her around, but we've been married almost a year, and ... well, 
it's bombsville in the bedroom. I know it sounds like a line, Jeannie, but 
it's true. I wish to God I'd never married her." 

"You say her name is Chris?" He nodded. "That's funny -- I mean, a funny 
coincidence. Jeremy's girl is named Chris, too." she said. "Do you love her, 
Reeve?" 

He looked directly into her eyes. "I don't know. I thought I did, until 
recently ... " 

Jeannie took a sip from her stinger. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked you that. 
I'm stepping over my bounds, I think, given our situation." She looked down 
at her glass. 

"That's okay, honey. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you brought it up. It's 
been on my mind, Jeannie -- a lot. I'm not the kind of guy who can sneak 
around and play little clandestine games. I have to have everything straight 
out front. It would be great to be a real fucking bastard and ask you to be 
my mistress. But that just doesn't go with me." 

"I guess that makes two of us." she said softly. "So?" 

"So I have some important decisions to make -- soon." He looked at his 
watch. "Let's catch the first set." 

The tiny dark nightclub was already jammed when they get there. It was hard 
to see your hand in front of your face at first. People -- most of them 
young and very hip -- crowded together at the tiny tables. They finally 
found a spot off to the side. Suddenly a voice boomed on the loud-speakers: 
"And now, friends, the incomparable Jeremy Stokes." The crowd clapped, 
whistled and stamped its feet loudly as a good looking young man appeared on 
stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder. He had the "X" quality, a 
presence, an energy that electrified the audience. Reeve sensed that here 
was a winner all right. But he wasn't prepared for the performance he got. 
As the youth sang his distinctive songs, in a voice that belied his young 
age, Reeve was amazed and awed. The kid had a magic that is rare, especially 
for one so young. His songs were tender, plaintive, gripping, funny, 
imaginative. His fluency on the guitar was spellbinding. His voice was pure, 
hypnotic. Reeve knew in the first fifteen minutes that he had to sign him 
immediately. Jeannie was thrilled. 

"Thanks very much folks." Jeremy said to the audience. "And now I'd like to 
sing a little song I wrote last night; a song that was inspired by a very 
special friend of mine, who just happens to be in the audience tonight." he 
said, looking at one of the front row tables. "She's A Girl Called Gypsy ... 
" 

As he began the song, both Reeve and Jeannie strained to see the girl who 
had inspired the song. It was obviously the girl Jeannie had met in his 
apartment, judging from the description in the lyrics. 

There were too many heads in the way, though, and they couldn't get a 
glimpse of her. When the set was over, Jeannie took Reeve to meet Jeremy, 
who had gone backstage. 

Reeve handed him a card saying, "Please phone me tomorrow so we can set up a 
meeting in my office." 

"Sure thing. Gee, that's terrific. Gypsy was right after all -- hey, wait a 
minute." He looked at the name on the card very carefully. He hadn't really 
caught it when Jeannie introduced them. He looked up at Reeve with an 
expression that baffled the older man. It was almost one of pain. 

"Anything wrong?" Reeve asked. 

Just then a beautiful girl burst through the doorway. 

"Jer ... Oh my God!" she shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands, 
looking in horror at Reeve, then at Jeannie. 

For a moment there was stunned silence in the quartet. Then all hell broke 
loose. 

Reeve's eyes blazed, the veins stood out on his forehead. "You fucking 
bastard!" he said, grabbing Jeremy by the shirt. The two began struggling as 
the girls tried to separate them. 

"Reeve!" Chris shrieked, "Stop it! Stop it!" 

A couple of the club's bouncers appeared in the room and grabbed Reeve's 
arms, pulling him away from Jeremy. "Hey, man, cool it!" they said, subduing 
the angry husband. 

"Let go of him, it's OK." Jeremy said, breathing heavily from the struggle. 

"I'll knock your fucking head off!" Reeve shouted at him. 

"Reeve, please. Let's get out of here, the four of us, and talk things over 
like civilized adults." Jeannie begged. 

"You call that civilized, what they were doing in his apartment?" Reeve 
shouted again. Then he realized that he had just irrefutably indicted 
himself. 

"Oh Reeve, Reeve." Chris cried, bursting into tears of shame, humiliation 
and self-pity. She turned and ran out the door, sobbing hysterically. Reeve 
called to her, but she elbowed her way past the throng of people crowding 
around the bar, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. She was anguished, 
tormented, and her only thought was to get away from all of them. 

Reeve forgot about Jeannie, forgot about Jeremy, forgot about everything at 
that moment except his wife. He dashed after her, followed by Jeannie and 
then Jeremy. They were all worried about Chris at that moment. 

She was halfway down the street when Reeve caught up with her. "Chris, oh 
Chris!" he said, wrapping her in his arms. "Oh God!" 

She tried to fight him off. "Get away from me. I never want to see you 
again!" she shouted through her sobs. She was almost convulsed with the 
wracking hysterics that gripped her. 

Jeannie and Jeremy had followed them and were about twenty yards away. Then 
something happened that made them stop dead in their tracks. 

Reeve kissed his hysterical wife fervidly on the mouth. She tried to pull 
back, but he held her tightly in his arms and forced her to submit to his 
kisses. He kissed her harshly, almost brutally, his body shaken with 
emotion. Gradually her resistance broke, and she began to return his kisses 
with an ardor she had never shown him in all their married life. 

Jeannie and Jeremy exchanged poignant, knowing glances. 

"It was great while it lasted." Jeannie sighed philosophically. 

"Yeah ... the greatest." he said quietly. "Well, there goes my girl -- and 
my contract, all in one night." 

"There goes my contract, too. Well, easy come, easy go, right?" Jeannie 
said, trying to hide her own deep hurt and disappointment. 

"C'mon, I'll buy you a triple Old Fashioned before the next set, kid." 
Jeremy said, putting his arm around her shoulder and turning her in the 
direction of the club. 

"Jeremy, you're a brick." she said, tears filling her eyes. She attempted a 
brave smile. 

"Careful how you say that, lady!" he grinned reassuringly. Neither of them 
looked back again. 

 Chapter Nine 

They left the Pantera in the garage and Reeve drove Chris's car home. Much 
of the trip back to Doheney Drive was spent in silence, though occasionally 
they exchanged comments about things. They had agreed not to discuss the 
events of the last twenty four hours until they got home. 

They were each lost in their own private nightmares, experiencing an 
emotional turmoil that left them confused, angry, hurt, guilty and 
surprised. Even with the excruciating awareness that each had been 
unfaithful, there was an underlying excitement in allowing their 
imaginations to put together the pieces of the puzzles that had been created 
with other sex partners. Reeve just couldn't believe that it was his frigid 
wife begging the young stud musician to fuck the begeezus out of her. Even 
though he had proof positive, it was so totally out of character for the 
Chris he knew to behave that way. As far as he knew, she was incapable of 
passion, period; much less the kind of all-consuming passion that would 
force her to beg for cock. He was filled with a wave of self-recrimination. 
Maybe it's been me all along -- maybe I haven't been enough of a man for 
her, he thought. She wants a fucking animal, not a gentle, considerate 
lover! Here I was, treating her as though she were my daughter, not my wife. 
No wonder she didn't turn on. Goddamn that bastard -- why him and not me? 

Chris felt the old humiliation wash over her. She hated herself for what she 
had done. She hated herself for hurting Reeve so badly. And she hated him 
for what he had done with that brazen redheaded bitch. But could she blame 
him? After all, what kind of wife had she been? She had never given herself 
to him, had never been a real woman with him. She knew that caused him to 
doubt himself. It's amazing he didn't have an affair a long time ago. That 
Jeannie was something else. She sure as hell doesn't have any sexual 
hangups, you can tell that! 

Thinking of the two of them, Reeve and Jeannie together, kissing, fondling 
each other's bodies, having intercourse, or worse, oral sex, filled Chris 
with a deep sense of inadequacy. She was consumed with animosity for the 
sexy girl, an animosity which stemmed from unabashed envy. Then she thought 
of Jeremy, and the fantastic experiences she had had with him in such a 
short time. He had forced her into vile acts she had never dreamed possible; 
yet, despite the disgust she had felt at first, she also instinctively 
understood that she liked the vital, exciting thing that was happening to 
her. It almost seemed as though, by some incredible direction of fate, she 
had been led to experience things she would, perhaps, never have experienced 
with Reeve. Their marriage would have gone steadily downhill, both of them 
alienated and miserable; both lacking what they needed from the marriage. 
Moreover, she had been forced to face what she would normally never 
confront. In brutalizing her sexually, Jeremy had opened a new depth of 
feeling she hadn't known existed. He had showed her a new dimension in 
herself, one that had lain dormant inside her all along. 

When they got to the house, Reeve went straight to the bar and mixed them 
both a strong drink. Then he sat down on the big sofa, where Chris was 
sitting. He took a couple of fast swallows, then cleared his throat. 

"Chris ... I ... I guess there's a lot we have to talk about ... " His voice 
trailed off. They both sipped their drinks. 

"I think that's been of our problems -- we haven't talked enough about the 
things that really mattered. I'm really sorry about that, Reeve," she said 
quietly. 

"You don't have to apologize, honey. I've been just as guilty of that as 
you. In fact, I've been a klutz in a lot of ways." 

"No you haven't, Reeve," she insisted. "I know I've been a trial and a 
disappointment in bed. I guess I can't blame you at all for ... for what you 
did." 

"How did you ... how do you know that ... kid?" 

"A fluke. I can hardly believe what happened myself. Will you ever be able 
to forgive me, Reeve?" 

He looked at her. She had that terribly vulnerable look in her eyes that he 
never could resist. He felt a surge of tenderness in his heart. "Forgive 
you? I think I'd better ask you the same question. I'm not exactly in a 
position to cast stones!" 

She gave a funny, little girl laugh. Reeve laughed, too. Soon they were both 
laughing sheepishly. "Can the pot call the kettle black?" she said, laughing 
more freely now. Reeve had never seen her so free. She stopped laughing, but 
there was still a mischievous smile on her face. "Hey, handsome, wanna take 
a chance with a loose woman?" she wisecracked in a perfect impersonation of 
Mae West. She unbuttoned her blouse. 

"Oh darling ... you bet!" he said, moving next to her. His hands roved 
hungrily over her softness and her firmness, lingering over each fleshy 
curve. He could feel his cock stiffen and swell with a hotly implacable 
lust. Never had he imagined she would feel this good to him, or that she 
could respond in such a fiery way. He shoved his tongue deeply and roughly 
into her warmly moist mouth. Chris opened her mouth wide to receive her 
husband's tongue as deeply as possible. She sucked it, and that excited him 
tremendously. She had never done that before. It seemed as though she was 
sucking his cock! Then she suddenly forced his tongue out and shoved her own 
deep inside his mouth with the same lewd intensity. Reeve was caught off 
guard. Responsiveness was more than he could have hoped for; aggression was 
more than he dreamed of! 

Without warning, she slid her hand down into the front of his trousers and 
groped for the massively pulsating cock, massaging it with her fingers, 
sending heated ripples of hunger through him. 

"Oh, honey ... " he moaned, as her hand skillfully caressed his throbbing 
penis. He parted her unbuttoned blouse, leaned over and began sucking and 
biting on her straining breast, licking at the softly fleshed mound with a 
rising fervor. Then, without warning, he yanked her long skirt up, pulled 
down her panties and jammed his tongue deeply up into her hotly throbbing 
cunt walls. 

"Aaaahhh!" she gasped, suddenly taken aback by the bold, unexpected gesture. 

Reeve shoved his warm curling tongue deeply into her pussy, licking her 
madly, giving her no chance to resist. He loved the sweet taste of his 
wife's cunt and the feeling of the tight little hole embracing it. He 
nibbled tingles of wanton delight through Chris's body. She was tremendously 
excited to note that her husband, her trim, beautiful husband -- the man she 
loved -- was filling her with passionate longing. She didn't need a stranger 
-- Reeve was all the man she needed, and more. 

She opened her legs wide and pushed her glistening pussy forward, 
unashamedly offering it to him ... savoring each wet lick of his warm tongue 
on her trembling cuntal flesh. "Yeesss," she cried loudly, "Yeeeesssss!" She 
had become so shamelessly aroused that she could no longer contain herself. 
In one shattering moment, all her inhibitions and self-doubt toppled like a 
row of dominoes. 

"Let me suck you," she cried, "Let me suck your big beautiful cock, 
darling." 

Reeve was astonished. This was the first time his wife had ever used such 
lewdly exciting language with him, and he was thoroughly delighted. She was 
like a brand new woman, a second wife. Quickly he pulled his pants off and 
lay back on the couch, as Chris positioned her salivating mouth over his 
widely throbbing penis. Slowly she lowered her face until her half-parted, 
glistening lips had enclosed the bulbous tip of his cock, and then she began 
to suck and pull at it, sending incredible waves of hot excitement through 
him. 

"Ooohhh ... " he moaned blissfully. 

Chris sucked eagerly and found herself enjoying the musky odor of her 
husband's cock that filled her nostrils. She also found a heated new 
excitement at taking his huge, pulsating penis in her wet mouth and tasting 
it, sucking it, feeling it slide along the rim of her teeth and lips; it 
gave her a sense of power, of immense pleasure. With her hands she massaged 
the hard resiliency of his balls dangling beneath his throbbing hardness. 
She had never thought she could enjoy something like this so much, but it 
was true! She was finally free of the guilt and nagging fear that had kept 
her a prisoner all these years, free now to find the full flower of her 
womanhood. She hunched over his heatedly beating penis, licking and sucking 
at it greedily, as though to devour it totally in her warm, sucking mouth. 
As her tightly ovalled lips moved up and down his hard shaft, she suddenly 
realized that she was indescribably happy ... perhaps truly happy for the 
first time in her adult life, for now she was part and partner of a man. 

Suddenly she wanted to be fucked by her husband, wanted to feel his huge 
cock inside her, pounding away at her pussy for all he was worth. She 
stopped sucking and withdrew his cock from her mouth. "Darling ... ?" she 
called. "Please stop a minute." 

Reeve thought, "Oh-oh! Here it comes!" But she surprised him again. She was 
smiling when she swung her legs around and turned to face him. "I love you. 
Do you know that?" she said simply and directly. "And I want you to fuck me, 
darling. Now ... please?" 

Reeve grinned from ear to ear. He kissed her eagerly on the mouth, a great 
emotional current passing between them. He was more excited now than ever. 
Suddenly he stood up, his huge cock standing out like a flagpole. "Hop 
aboard, ma'am. This is the Happiness Express." 

He helped her up from the couch and lifted her up as though she were a 
feather. She put her legs around his hips and let her cunt slide wetly down 
onto his extended cock. "Oooohhh, yesss. Yesssssss!" she moaned softly. "Oh, 
darling!" 

He walked into the bedroom with his excited wife still impaled on his cock, 
her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck. She was showering his 
face with kisses. He leaned over, lowering her on her back on the mattress, 
his cock still imbedded in her pussy. Then he withdrew until just the tip 
remained inside her. Giving no warning, he suddenly rammed her cunt sheath 
until the head of his cock was stopped by her spongy cervix. Chris felt as 
if she had never been fucked before, as if she were being entered for the 
first time. She felt complete, a whole woman. She had yearned to feel this 
way all her adult life, and in particular, throughout her married life. She 
had cried buckets of bitter tears, lamenting her inability to feel, to give, 
to enjoy the natural fruits of her birthright. But it was happening for her 
now, all right! At last! 

"Mrs. Richards, I almost forgot -- I love you too, darling. I really, really 
do!" 

Then gently, he began pushing his massively pulsating rod in and out of her 
cunt again. Chris felt a deep, erotic ecstasy begin to surge through her 
loins from Reeve's pounding strokes. She surrendered fully to her husband. 

"Yesss ... " she moaned softly, then louder and louder ... "Yeessss! 
Yeeesssss! Fuck my cunt, darling! Fuck it goooood!!!" 

She thought she heard something snap inside, and she felt a sudden release. 
At last she was free forever of the shackles she had worn for nine years! 

"Oh Yeessssss!" she shrieked, "Yeeessss! Fuck it. Oh, Fuck It!" 

Tears of joy streaming from her eyes, she gave herself completely to the 
roaring surge of lust that ran through her. Her curvaceous young body began 
to writhe, and she wrapped her long, slender legs around his naked buttocks 
as Reeve's cock fucked into her like a mighty cannon. He had finally found 
the woman in the girl he married, the woman he felt was there, but only 
surfaced now. She was worth waiting for, that woman! 

Chris moved her pelvis up and down now with a fevered intensity and tightly 
put her arms around him, delighting in his rippling, muscular body. She 
realized that she had never really touched him quite that way before. She 
had missed so much. But she would make up for it now! She ran her fingers 
through his thick blonde hair, and eagerly drew his face down to hers. They 
kissed deeply, thrillingly, with an intensity they had never known before. 

Reeve could feel the release of tension immediately. It was as if they both 
had suddenly been freed from restraints that had held them both back. Their 
bodies merged as never before. He felt his cock suddenly grow even harder, 
stronger. He fucked with abandon in and out of her wildly milking cunt. It 
was amazing to him that so much could have happened in such a short time. 
Within the space of two days, their lives had been completely turned upside 
down. He cried out joyously, like a triumphant warrior, as he fucked his 
massively throbbing prick deeply into his wife's wetly steaming cuntal 
passage. 

"Ooooohhhh!" cried Chris, delighting in every thrust. "Your cock feels so 
wonderful, darling!" 

Reeve felt the first heated surge of cum rising in his sperm-bloated balls. 
Hot little tingles of delight began to ripple over his body. The white-hot 
seminal fluid was pushing slowly upwards for the final moment of ecstatic 
release. Chris, feeling the shudder of ecstasy go through her husband's 
body, could also feel her vaginal walls begin to quiver with a new, 
compelling intensity. A hotly exciting series of thrills began radiating out 
of her cunt, spreading throughout her entire body. She was almost there ... 
almost ... almost ... 

"Oooohhh ... it's ... Cuuummmmiing! My pussy's cumming!" 

Reeve reached the pinnacle and his white hot cum spurted ceaselessly out of 
his ramming tool into Chris's wetly clasping cunt walls. "Aaaannnggghhhhh!" 
he screamed as his cock exploded wildly inside her. 

Their cum mixed together with the sweet rapture they shared, and both of 
them felt transported beyond time and space, lost in each other and in the 
golden aura of ecstasy that held them both. They had merged; had melted into 
one ship that sailed blissfully on the orgasmic sea. 

Chris was free now, free forever of the bondage of the past. She had 
surrendered completely to her husband and had found, in her surrender, a 
totally new and delightful world opening up to her ... a world she would 
never want to leave. 

 Chapter Ten 

The next morning Reeve Richards breezed into the office with more spring in 
his step than anyone had seen in months. He looked rested, fit and very 
happy. (Little did they know that he had spent half the night making the 
most uninhibited kind of love to his young wife!) He motioned for Margo to 
follow him into the office. 

"Margo, how long has it been since you've had a raise?" he asked her slyly. 

"What? Oh, about eight months, I guess." she said, looking at him oddly. 

"Well, would you mind sending a memo to the payroll department telling them 
to add another fifty bucks a week to your paycheck? I'll initial it when 
you've typed it up. Have it on my desk when I get back this afternoon. Chris 
is taking me out to Venice this morning to pick up my car. Then we're having 
lunch out, so I won't be back until 2:00." 

"Fifty dollars? Venice? I don't get it, boss." she said, blinking her eyes. 

"There's a kid playing a small club out there that is the hottest talent 
I've seen in years. I intend to sign him -- today." he said, reaching for a 
blank contract. "As for the raise, you're going to earn it. We've got about 
two week's worth of work to do in the next couple of days, Margo." 

"Why so?" she asked uncomprehendingly. 

"Because in three days, I'm leaving for Mexico with the beautiful Chris 
Richards. We'll be gone two weeks. Oh, while I think of it, here are the 
names of places we want to stay. Will you arrange it, please, Margo? Use 
that same travel agent, the one with the lisp. He's a fairy, but he sure 
knows the travel business." 

"That's great that you're going away, Reeve. You've been needing a 
vacation." 

"Margo, this is more than a vacation. It's a honeymoon." He winked at her 
devilishly as he gathered some papers and put them into an attach case. 
"Oh, one more thing. Call Walt and tell him to kill that Jeannie Jerome 
promo. I want to see a head shot. It's going to be called: 'One Hell of A 
Woman'. I want to use Chris on the backup group, so be sure she's in the 
credits. A little nepotism never hurt anybody, right?" 

"That's terrific, Reeve. I never said this before, but I always thought it 
was a shame that Chris didn't continue performing. She's got a lot of 
talent." 

"I think she might get back to it sooner than you think!" he said, grinning 
warmly at her. "See ya later, kid." And with that, he waltzed out of the 
office, leaving Margo with her mouth open. 

Reeve insisted that Chris go with him up to Jeremy's apartment. She fought 
against it, though in her heart she knew that it was the best way to conquer 
the situation. Reeve knew that Jeremy would be sleeping, and that he might 
be hostile, but he was king of the mountain now, and nothing would daunt 
him. 

He knocked boldly on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. A 
sleepy voice called out, "Whoever it is, bug off." Reeve looked at his wife 
and grinned. He knocked even louder. There was grumbling, then a loud, 
"Goddamnit!" and the heavy shuffle of bare feet. 

Jeremy opened the door wearing a pair of jeans and blinking against the 
light. 

"Good morning." Reeve said brightly. 

"Whaaa ... What the fuck do you want?" he bristled. He started to slam the 
door, but Reeve thrust his arm out. "I want to offer you a recording 
contract, Jeremy." he said. 

"You What? What is this, your idea of a practical joke?" he bellowed. "Hey, 
hot stuff!" he called to someone in the room. "Did you dig that? Mr. Big 
says he wants to offer me a contract!" Then, turning to Reeve again with his 
middle finger thrust in the air he said, "Up yours. I don't dig your little 
jokes, man. Now why don't you and your old lady take a hike!" 

Reeve got mad at that. "Listen, smartass, I came here for one reason, and 
one reason only -- to make a deal to record with Phantasmix. I figured you 
were smart enough to know a good thing when you see it -- but I guess I was 
wrong. If you want to cut your nose to spite your face, that's tough darts!" 

"Aw right, aw right. Forget it." He opened the door wide. "Come on in ... I 
guess." 

"Thanks." Reeve said. Chris didn't look at Jeremy as they walked in, but she 
did see the woman who was lying on the bed of pillows in his apartment -- it 
was Jeannie Jerome! She was sitting up, wearing a smile and a bed sheet! 

Chris looked at Reeve. She wasn't prepared for this encounter! A mixture of 
fear, anger and apprehension overtook her. Reeve was taken aback too. He 
stood there root-bound for a moment without saying a word, his eyes fixed on 
the luscious redhead. Then he smiled, and his smile became a grin, and his 
grin became a chuckle, and soon he was laughing uproariously, almost 
maniacally. 

Jeannie caught the humor in the situation, too. She began to join his 
laughter with her own, and Jeremy and Chris stood there bewildered. 

"What's so goddamned funny?" Jeremy said, his eyes blazing with anger. 

"It's so ridiculous, so fucking absurd! The four of us here like this, after 
last night; after everything else that's happened. It's the most far-out, 
bizarre situation I've ever seen. Don't you understand, Chris? Jeremy?" 

They both saw it then, and they relaxed immediately. Soon the four of them 
were laughing crazily. The heat was off. 

Jeannie fixed coffee for the four of them, still wearing only a sheet. She 
was thrilled to find that she was most definitely still under contract. 
Nothing had changed except the name of the album: One Hell of A Woman. She 
looked at Reeve affectionately, and he thought he detected a tear in her 
eye. 

"Do you think you can write a song to go with it, Jeremy?" he asked the 
young man. 

"Is a rabbi Jewish?" he said, squeezing Jeannie around the waist. 

"By the way, Jeremy," said Reeve after the concert was signed, "I've already 
got the title for your first album, if it's OK with you." 

"You're putting me on, man. What is it?" he said, looking at Reeve warily. 

"It's 'Jeremy and A Girl Called Gypsy'." 

Jeremy gave a quick look to Chris, who looked at Reeve. His eyes told her 
more in a moment than he could tell her in a thousand years. She ran to him 
and they embraced each other with deeply felt emotion. 

Jeannie looked at the handsome couple, who were obviously very much in love. 
How beautiful they looked together; how right they were for each other. She 
could have envied them, and in a way, she did. But more importantly, she 
felt grateful for what she had shared with Reeve -- even though it was mere 
lust. He had given her something of value, and she knew she had been more 
than just a sex partner for him. She had helped him grow up a little, just 
as Jeremy had been instrumental in freeing Chris from the terrible, 
stultifying shackles of misguided rearing. And she knew, deep down, that she 
could never have married Reeve, even if he had divorced his lovely wife -- 
they were of two different worlds, and hers left no room for a permanent 
relationship with a man; not while there were delectable cocksmen like 
Jeremy Stokes around! 

Reeve extended his hand to Jeremy before parting. "Jeremy, you've got a 
great future. Welcome aboard." 

"His past is nothing to sneeze at, either!" piped Chris. 

Reeve looked at her incredulously. She was really coming out of herself now 
in the most delightful way. "Why you little devil!" he said, picking her up 
in his arms. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" He whispered 
something in her ear that made her eyes widen and her face blossom into an 
ecstatic smile. "Wow!" she cried. 

"You can do it here, if you like." Jeremy said with a knowing grin. 

Reeve looked at his beautiful wife. Then he turned to Jeremy. "Thanks, but 
there are some things a man just has to do in private." 

Chris took a playful nibble at his ear. "Are you sure?" she said 
suggestively. 

Reeve looked at her, then at Jeannie, then at Jeremy. He looked at his wife 
again. "Yes," he said firmly. Then to the couple who had saved their 
marriage: "But if I change my mind, and I might, you two will be the first 
to know!" And he carried his sexy young wife out the door and down the 
stairs and into a beautiful new life together. 


End
