Back Seat Seduction
by Paula Cash
(LLP-891)


Chapter One 

Trouble-right in the back seat of her taxi cab. Sex trouble! Shirley 
Singleton, female Chicago taxi cab driver, felt her hands tremble on the 
steering wheel as she stared anxiously in the rear view mirror and watched 
her passengers. She had broken the two rules that Old Man Baxter, who'd 
taught her how to hack, insisted on: Never offer to drive a friend. Never 
let anybody play a hot sex game in your back seat. 

The woman in the back seat was her best friend, Irma Dawson, married, 
housewife. The guy was Irma's bar pickup, Joe Something-or-other, not Irma's 
husband. Irma wanted to drive around and talk with a little light petting. 
Joe, big-shouldered and blonde, good-looking and a stud type, wanted hot 
action-right now. 

"Baby-I dig you-" he said and he proved it. He had a hot hand inside of 
Irma's blouse, right on her breast. "We'll have the kid hackie park 
somewhere and take a walk. You can give me a quick suck." 

"No-no-no" Irma was in panic, but couldn't say much because the young man 
held her blonde head with the other hand and kissed her wetly on the mouth. 
It was sickening, thought Shirley. 

"Hey, Mister, she doesn't want to play!" Shirley cried over her shoulder. 

"Sure she wants to play. You drive, cabbie and I'll handle the back seat," 
said Joe. 

It was hot. Chicago in June was usually hot, but the temperature inside the 
cab was really torrid. Irma had worn a light summer dress and no bra, so 
Joe, with his hand inside, had his palm smack against girl meat. In the 
mirror it looked like he was squeezing poor Irma's breast off. Shirley could 
see Irma's lips smeared with kissing saliva and Irma's shocked, wide blue 
eyes. Irma made hurt sounds in her throat. 

"Mister, you gotta lay off!" cried Shirley. 

"This bitch has teased me in the bar now for three weeks," said Joe. "Today 
I get my action." 

What could Shirley do? Old Baxter had told her never to carry a gun. "If the 
robber has a gun, yours in the glove compartment won't help. Some kid pulls 
a knife-you show a gun-he takes it and boom! boom!-you're dead." All Shirley 
had was a kid's baseball bat latched under the dashboard. It was enough to 
pacify an occasional drunk ... Should she drive to the police station? Right 
now she cruised in a deserted factory area as Joe had instructed. It was 
late afternoon, the end of her shift and there was no sign of life anywhere, 
cars or humans. 

Irma pulled loose for a second. 

"SHIRLEY-HELP ME! HELP ME! I-DON'T WANT TO BE - RAPED." 

With a pounding heart, scared out of her wits, Shirley pulled over to the 
side of the road and jammed on her brakes. She was going to have to help 
Irma. 

Shirley and Irma were more than neighbors and friends. They shared their 
hopes and fears. Most of all they both had a burning conviction that they 
would leave Chicago before another harsh winter set in. This was to be the 
summer of decision. Shirley, twenty-six, divorced with two small children, 
had her mother to help, but it wasn't much help. When Mom didn't work, 
Shirley had to provide all the income. Irma, thirty, with one child, had a 
self-satisfied, indifferent husband who bogged her down as much as Shirley's 
family. 

"OHHH-NOOO!" wailed Irma as Shirley parked and jumped out of the car. 

Shirley looked in the back seat and saw why Irma had screamed. Joe had 
traded a strangie-hold on Irma's breast for more promising territory. 
Shirley could see Irma's naked thighs and Joe's big hand digging right 
between her legs. It looked like he'd felt right inside her lace-edged 
panties to grab Irma's cunt. Her legs tried to lock on his hand but it was 
too late. Irma went "Hah!" 

"Hah!" with that wounded sound a woman would make when cold fingers forced 
open her vagina. 

Joe paid no attention to Shirley's stopping the cab and getting out. He was 
very handsome, well-dressed and powerful. He was, apparently, a big stud 
type who was not afraid of two soft, good-looking Chicago girls. 

Shirley grabbed her small ball bat and opened the rear door. She almost 
died. The first thing she saw was seven inches of stiff male penis, sticking 
right up in the air, out of Joe's lap. Shirley had no sex life. Sex during 
her marriage hadn't been great. Since the divorce it had been nonexistent. 
She had to hustle too hard for money to think about things like that. The 
sight of the male feeling up the female while she jerked and quivered, her 
soft thighs exposed and straining and the sight of that huge, hard cock, 
shattered her as much as Joe's assault. When you were completely out of the 
sex game and not used to the sight of sex organs it was a real stopper. 

"Beat it," Joe threw at her over his shoulder. "Later-a big tip." 

"OH, SHIRLEY, SAVE ME. SAAAVE MEEE!" wailed Irma. 

"Come on, baby," said Joe. "I don't mind a little fussing but I know you 
really want it. The cabbie's gone." 

"NO!" 

Irma thrust against her attacker with all her strength. It was not enough. 
Joe began to force Irma's head down toward his stiff, hungry cock. 

"COME ON. SUCKEEE, SUCKEEE," he laughed. 

He was not drunk. He was just mean and powerful. Shirley looked around. No 
help of any kind in sight. Nobody to yell to. She did not have a radio cab, 
or even a phone. She had one of Regency's street Plymouths, a little ancient 
and sagging. With the money she made it would be a long time before she 
could be a first-class cabbie. 

There was nothing to do but try and save her friend. Shirley reached inside 
and grabbed Joe's shoulder. At the same time, by luck, Irma shoved against 
him and he half fell out of the back seat. Shirley wasted no more time 
arguing. The sex part scared her white. She closed her eyes, lifted the bat 
and holding it with both hands, brought it down on Joe's head. 

WHAP! 

It sounded like somebody had tried to bounce a cantaloupe on the ground. Joe 
fell out of the cab with a sigh and slid on one shoulder to lay without 
moving. Irma flew out of the back seat right after him. She stared with 
horrified blue eyes at the still figure on the ground. 

"Oh, Shirley, you've killed him! You've killed him!" Irma screamed. 

She reached down and Shirley, still paralyzed from striking that blow, the 
sting in her hands and the shock, thought Irma meant to help Joe. Instead 
the blonde took off one of her own shoes and then the other. 

"I got to get home, kid. Frank will be looking for me-" she gasped. 

She took off running, holding her shoes, sprinting up past the big loading 
dock of a factory. 

Shirley was too stunned by this unexpected action to do anything but stare 
after Irma's fast-retreating figure, still holding her ball bat. 

"IRMA! IRMA!" she screamed. 

It was no use. Her blonde friend just kept running. If Shirley jumped in the 
cab to chase her, that meant leaving the dead or wounded man here on the 
ground. "Oh, nooo," she murmured and dropped down to check on Joe. 

He was still alive. After she shook him and patted his cheeks, he opened one 
dazed eye. 

"Some earthquake," he said. "I felt that." 

She helped him sit up. His senses returned. He glared at her and began to 
curse weakly. 

"You broke my skull, you lousy cunt. You ruined my suit. You and your bitch 
friend really rigged me, huh?" 

"Mister, I-" 

"Baby," he said ominously, "you are in trouble. You are in such deep trouble 
you're never getting out. Your company's gonna fire you, you're gonna lose 
your license and spend a little time in jail. A cabbie can't get away with 
beating up riders and robbing 'em, not in Chi town." 

"What? Listen, you creep-" 

"No, you listen. I can prove that doll's been setting me up. Playing games 
at the SILVER STREAK bar with me. Then she lures me out here with her good 
friend the taxi driver. While she lulls me with kissy-feely, the taxi driver 
hits me over the head with a ball bat and there goes my wallet." 

"Oh, no, no! I never touched your wallet. It's not like that at all." 

She told him that Irma had a bad marriage and was only looking for a little 
fun on the side. But he had become too rough. They drove back to 
civilization as he sat in the front seat, leaning against the door post, 
favoring the lump on his head, still snarling. He wanted her to drive him to 
the police station. 

"Oh no, please. If you make any kind of report, I'll lose my job. Irma's 
husband will kill her. Mister, I'm divorced with two kids to support. I 
can't afford any trouble." 

Even if the cops believed her and Irma the damage was done. Her own 
supervisor would fire her because Regency, as an independent cab company, 
had a hard struggle to stay on the streets. They wouldn't stand for any kind 
of trouble or complaints from customers about drivers. There were too many 
young kids waiting to take her job. The same for Irma. If Frank Dawson 
learned that his wife had spent the late afternoon driving around in a cab 
with a guy she met in a bar-goodbye, Irma! 

There was no sign of Irma, She had either found another cab or a bus, or 
she'd hitched a ride. It was a new insight on Irma-she didn't like to stick 
around in case of trouble. The whole thing was in Shirley's lap. 

She pulled up in front of the precinct police station, still pleading with 
Joe. 

"Look, Mister, I'll do anything. You see, I've got a special problem. I 
can't work indoors. Laugh-but I can't. I tried being a hair-dresser and a 
secretary and a counter sales girl-no good. I was raised on a farm downstate 
and I never could stand being cooped up. I go stir-crazy and just can't 
report for work. That leaves pumping gas or driving a cab, a few things like 
that." 

"My head hurts like hell," said Joe. 

She stared at the doors of the police station. Doors of doom. Joe started to 
get out of the cab. She watched the cops coming and going and thought with 
misery: "Goodbye job and goodbye escaping another Chicago winter, too." 

"Look, Mister, one more thing. Last winter my kids almost died. Kathy, the 
girl, got pneumonia and Little Joe got a frostbite and almost lost some 
toes. I decided to push real hard this summer-save a thousand extra dollars 
and go to Miami. I've got a sister there." 

She pulled the lean leather wallet out of her waist. 

"You see this wallet? This is to be my savings account, the extra money. The 
Miami money. Today was to be my first hit-an extra tip from Irma for driving 
you two around." 

She showed him the empty wallet. 

He pushed it aside: "Don't tell me your problems. All I know is you 
half-killed me." 

He swung out of the cab and she watched him go with eyes of misery. He took 
three steps. He stopped. He turned back to the cab. 

"You really got a little kid named "Joe"? Like me?" 

"I sure have." 

He grunted and got back in the cab. He gave her an address that he said was 
his apartment. She practically flew the cab away from the police station. 
The flag was up-she'd have to pay for Irma's ride and this one. But to avoid 
trouble and keep her job- 

His apartment was in a small modern building with a separate side entrance. 
When she parked there, he cut off the ignition and caught her wrist. 

"You come on in-" 

"Mister, I'm late getting off shift. I have to get back-" 

"Inside. I live alone, baby. I got to have somebody to put a bandange on my 
aching head." 

Well, that was the least she could do. She let him escort her in, aware of 
his big shoulders and strong grip. He really dressed well, in an expensive 
suit and looked prosperous. He was good-looking, too. At least Irma could 
pick 'em. 

His name was Joe Kellar and the apartment was a far cry from her old and 
beat-up quarters. It was sunny with a big living room furnished with 
expensive antiques. The sofa alone, big, overstuffed, looked to be worth 
hundreds of dollars. He had Tiffany lamps. There was a grandfather clock on 
one wall, old-time posters on the other walls and high-backed chairs in a 
dining area big enough to be a separate dining room. She caught a flash of 
an Early American copper pan kitchen and he led her into an elegant 
bathroom. Wow, money sure made a difference. She, her mother and her two 
kids, lived in a place half this size. 

As she dressed the lump on his head, he seemed to have recovered from the 
blow and the pain. He put his hands on her torso and ran them down her sides 
to her small waist. 

"Hey, I never noticed. You're pretty good-looking, Shirley." 

She laughed, pleased. "I once had a chance to be a model, but it was the 
same old story. Indoors all the time, frozen in front of bright, hot 
lights." 

She was, in fact, quite a package. Some women, Joe had discovered, looked 
terrific until you got close up and saw a few flaws. Irma was like that, all 
glittering blonde and tawny-skinned, but her mouth was too large, her eyes 
too small and her profile a little flat. This girl was good on all those 
points. Her eyes were almost violet, very soft and she had a round face with 
a snub nose and curling, curving lips. Her skin was a clear olive color, 
very smooth and fine-textured. He lifted her taxi driver's cap and jerked 
out two combs. A cascade of blue-black dark hair, gleaming and rich, fell 
down past her shoulders. 

"Hey, don't do that," she protested. 

"Maybe I chased the wrong girl," he said. She blushed and gave her beautiful 
mane of hair a toss to make it fall into place. 

"Now, Joe, you'll have to lay off. I don't dig sex." 

Because it was hot, her blouse was unbuttoned down a couple of buttons and 
even in a bra her breasts, he saw, were big and well-shaped. Bigger than the 
blonde's. Then came that slim waist, a trim little butt, shapely thighs and 
good calves, terminating in small, farm girl boots. Since she wore shorts 
against the heat, it was all on display. 

"You have two kids, you know what sex was all about," he said. "With a body 
like this you had to have lots of lovers." 

"Not on the farm, Joe. Not in Chicago. My folks watched me closely, 
especially before my dad died. I only went with a couple of guys before I 
met Harold and got married." 

"What happened to Harold?" 

"Harold," she sighed, "is thirty years old and still going to the University 
of Chicago. He can't decide whether to be the world's greatest physicist, or 
the world's greatest living philosopher, or the world's greatest 
psychologist, He has degrees in all three. I think he'll turn out to be the 
world's greatest permanent college student. He hates work and he hates 
family responsibilities and he hasn't kept up his child payments because he 
works as a busboy and barely scrapes along, so the court didn't award much. 
Oh, yes, he has a flair for young coeds. That was the final straw." 

"Nice work if you can get it,' said Joe. 

He just put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She knew he 
was going to kiss her and she tried to resist, but there wasn't any use. He 
was too strong. He kissed her. The last time she'd been kissed romantically 
was before the divorce by her husband. She wasn't ready for a wet, eager 
tongue forcing inside her lips. She jerked back. 

"Come on, Joe. I'm not your Irma," she protested. 

"Better," he said. 

His hands slid over her hips and around the ripe melons of her fleshy ass. 
One hand moved down between her legs, against the heat of her crotch, in the 
shorts. He boldly felt her sex organ. 

"Oh, no!" she gasped. 

He undid his zipper. That huge cock that she'd seen in the cab was suddenly 
between them. 

"No sex!" she cried. 

"Just a sweet little suck, Shirley. You owe it." A firm hand caught her 
wrist and forced her hand to curl around his cock. She stood there, 
trembling in misery- It had been months since she'd had real sex. Once in a 
while, in her bathtub, she jazzed herself a little. With the kids, her mom 
and her job, she had too many other things to think about than sex. All of a 
sudden she was alone with this good-looking young guy in his apartment with 
her hand on his big, powerful jobber. Her knees felt weak. Her belly 
thrilled. 

"I-could give you a hand job, I guess," she said, frightened. 

"You could eat me." 

"That's homosexual!" she cried. "Who said that?" 

"Harold. He would never-let me do it." 

"Fifty dollars says it isn't." 

"Ah, Joe, I can't do this!" she cried. Her hand felt on fire. That stiff 
prick meat seemed to burn her. The skin was so soft and supple, while the 
muscle was so stiff, engorged with his hot blood. She felt a little dizzy. 
In spite of herself she jacked him off with tentative little hand movements. 

"AHHH," he went. 

He pulled her around and started walking her toward the bedroom. "Joe! Joe!" 

"You got that wallet for Miami. Empty, right? You can have the fifty I 
would've spent on that dumb blonde if she'd asked for money." 

Fifty dollars! Just like that. She let him walk her into the big bedroom, 
her head spinning. Part of it was her excitement to be holding his big cock, 
her internal fires rising in a way she'd never felt before. Part of it was 
her realization that if she had sex with Joe he couldn't nail her for that 
ball bat blow. Part of it was the thought of all that extra money. She'd 
never thought of sex as a way of making money ... well, she'd thought of it, 
but knew it wouldn't work with her. Not with the severe training her parents 
had given her. 

Yet she stood there letting Joe undress her. Her blouse came off. Her shorts 
came down, followed by her pantyhose and boots. She tried to stop him from 
taking off her bra. 

"You'll have to stop. I'm not used to-" 

He laughed and pushed her on the bed, still clad in her panties and bra. 

"I don't want to take a chance on being hit with a ball bat again," he 
laughed. 

He stripped. She lay on the bed, eyes averted, terrified of that big, stiff 
prick, yet unwilling to move. He got on the bed beside her and looked down 
on her. With the soft light of the fading sun, she looked incredibly 
beautiful, all traces of the matter-of-fact little taxi driver gone. There 
was her long hair, there was the full sweep of her gorgeous body with that 
clear, fine skin, there was the rise of her breasts and the flatness of her 
young stomach and the tight in-pull of her flowered panties against her 
cunt. Her thighs and legs were elegant, soft curves. 

He dug his tongue into her soft stomach, into her navel and she gasped and 
wiggled. As his tongue moved up her bare flesh in long, tingling strokes 
toward her breasts, it seemed to cause prickles of fire. He undid her bra 
and she let him because that bold tongue felt so good. There was just enough 
digestive power in a lover's saliva to make the flesh sensitize. 

He gave a cry of hungry delight as he exposed her breasts and immediately 
began to suck one nipple tenderly while he palmed and kneaded the other. She 
felt the excitement as if she'd plunged into a cool pool from a diving 
board, sucking in her breath and surging against him. Her cunt and belly 
went creamy. She still felt scared and her breathing accelerated as he 
kissed her other nipple, sucked it, then found some thrill points around the 
base of her throat. 

"Oh, Joe-I-I-not used-to this," she said. She thought he would kiss her 
again, but he moved swiftly in the opposite direction, moving down to use 
his tongue once more beginning at her navel but running it toward her V. He 
exposed her abdomen as he went, lifting and then peeling back her panties. 
His tongue moved right through her dark pubic hairs, right on down. 

"Joe!" 

Her panties slid to her knees. His big, thick tongue, pink and wet, curled 
onto her cunt lips. They had expanded as she had oiled for love and he drove 
his tongue inside of her box to wiggle it against her clit. 

She had never been sucked. The sensation of feeling that soft, wet, yet firm 
tongue reaming on her sex nerve, her clitoris, drove her half out of her 
mind. Waves of shock and pleasure shot up through her belly as high as her 
breasts. A hot glow spread down through her thighs. He sucked and slurped at 
her juice, smacking his lips and swallowing as much of it as he could get. 

"My favorite flavor," he said. "Hot girl." 

"J-J-JOE, YOU SHOULDN'T DO THISSS," she hissed, swiftly gyrating her loins 
in spite of herself. 

"I know. Homosexual. But I'll teach you how good it feels and you can do 
me," he said. 

She grabbed his head, not knowing whether to stop him or ride her cunt on 
his tongue. It was exquisitely delicious to be crazy-tongued like this and 
yet she was sure it was wrong. The only acceptable form of sex was with the 
man on top of you putting his penis up inside. Anything else was degenerate. 
Well, she knew this Joe Kellar was degenerate. The thing to do was let him 
have his way for a few moments and then try to masturbate his lust-bloated 
cock. She still had hopes that she could keep that big, wounding sex 
instrument outside of her body. 

"AH, UH, UH, UH," she gasped quivering and riding on his tongue, helpless 
against his hot cunt suck. It seemed to vibrate right up her very backbone. 

He took her words as encouragement. He got both hands on her hips and spread 
her legs further. His hot tongue actually breached her inner cunt lips and 
went inside her secret little vagina. Those first two inches of cunt tunnel, 
plus her clitoris, were loaded with sex nerves designed to turn her into a 
hot bitch. They had not been used much and the sensations, plus the sight of 
a naked, good-looking young man sucking her drove her right up the wall of 
lascivious pleasure. To her it was a forbidden thrill to put a mouth on a 
sex organ. The way he slobbered in and drank her girl juice made her hot 
enough to die. 

"OH, JOE, YOU MUSTN'T. OH, NO. HAAA, HEEE WOOOIEEE." 

She made stupid teenage girl sounds and humped and bounced and grunted at 
having her cunt used so. She blushed-and she had the time of her life, 
grinding off thrill after thrill from that demonic tongue that pierced her 
insides like a golden pleasure knife. 

"You like sex, baby. You like sucking," he said between strokes. "I can turn 
you into a rutting little female animal, crazy for cock." 

"Oh, don't talk like that. No, no. It isn't true. I'm just not used-oh, oh, 
heeeeee. Oh, my goodness." 

She felt the sweet distress of half her body being locked and pulled in 
toward orgasm. She had begun to sweat. Now he threatened to make her cum, to 
become a disgusting, throbbing animal, just by using his tongue. How 
humiliating-and deeelicious. 

"AH, JOE, AH, JOE. I DIDN'T THINK-IT WOULD FEEL-LIKE THISSSSSS." 

"Ever since Eve, child. Some folks miss out." 

He lifted his head from her saddle. He moved up her body, exposing the seven 
inches of smooth, hard cock. No victim ever stared at the approaching sword 
of an executioner with more distress and fear. Her eyes got large. He took a 
firm, matter-of-fact stance with his knees on either side of her waist. He 
smiled down at her, looking to her, from her position, like some mighty 
Tarzan or Hercules, ten feet tall, naked and virile. That huge cock looked 
gigantic to her. And she got his message. He had eaten of her body and drank 
of her juices. Now she must eat and drink ... Slowly, inevitably, he brought 
down that mighty cock, bending it to her mouth with his thumb. 

She jerked her head back, panting and big-eyed in fright. He held her head, 
brought it up, slid the spade-shaped cockhead and about two inches of turgid 
shaft into her mouth. She felt heat. She tasted a meat taste. She felt the 
sliding skin over the taut muscle. She heard his groan of pleasure. Her 
mouth controlled one hundred and eighty pounds of fierce manhood through 
those few sensitive inches of torrid prick. 

"MMMMMMM." 

"Not that way," he laughed. He instructed her ... how to offer resistance 
with her teeth, how to work her tongue around the roundness of the shaft to 
serve all those pleasure nerves. He made her bob her head and apply suction. 

She could not possibly have taken a stiff prick into her mouth if he had not 
sexed her up with that wonderful tongue on her cunt. Somehow the pleasure of 
before rose higher with giving him her head-giving head. It really wasn't 
that bad, especially with her body so hot and open for sex. He eased each of 
his bull balls into her mouth, one at a time and showed her how to gently 
lave them. He said it made tickles all the way up his body. Then he pushed 
her head back down on the bed, leaned forward on his hands and began to fuck 
into her mouth as if it were a cunt. 

"AH, BABY, YOU'RE GRIPPING, SUCKING, EATING JUST RIIIGHT. AH-WE'VE GOT 
FRICTION-SUCTION. LIFTOFF. AH, ME." 

It was like nothing that had ever happened to her before, the bold use of 
his prick stuffing lewdly into her mouth. Down below her hand crept up to 
her cunt. She began to masturbate herself to continue the glowing joy in her 
swirling belly. For the first time she could remember she felt the wild, 
reckless freedom of sex, the desire to use him and herself until they wore 
it out. She heard the disgusting sounds they made; her slurping on his cock 
and her own finger making wet "deep" sounds in her cunt. She didn't care. 

"Oh, you are bitch-built and bitch sucking," he cried. He stopped and held 
her head again, drawing back. She felt his big body shudder with wild joy as 
his cock throbbed dryly in her mouth. "Honey, we're going to throw it wild!" 
he sang. 

He reversed himself on her, putting his mouth on her cunt, spreading his 
legs so that his cock fit in her mouth. 

"Now we both can eat." 

It took her a minute to get used to this new position. She'd heard about the 
"sixty-nine," a double suck, male and female. This was it. His whole body 
plastered to her and his tongue began those erotic exercises again, lifting 
her tight up to heaven. 

"AH, JOE, OH, I'M SO HOT-" 

"EAT, GIRL, EAT," he moaned. "We're at the finish line." 

She didn't know what to expect. Her orgasms with Harold had been quick and 
subdued, because Harold did not like a lot of noise with sex. In this crude, 
free animal exercise, the rules were different. 

"AH, YOU'RE PULLING MY PLUG-DRIIIVING ME-CRAZEEE," he roared, as his cock 
worked faster and faster in her mouth. She didn't know how he managed it, to 
suck her and talk. Her own sensations were incredible-a constant riding 
friction that deprived her slowly of her senses, of all notion of identity. 
She plunged her butt under him like an animal, moaning and gurgling and 
getting that frenzied tongue service. "AHHHHHH-YEEEEEE." 

"GOD-LOOOVE IT!" he cried happily. "UH, UH, UH." 

His male explosion surfaced then. Bursts of hot sperm gushed into her mouth. 
There was nothing to do but swallow. She'd drown otherwise, she feared. She 
drank and drank until her throat ached, swilling down strong-smelling 
starch-like jissum that coated her mouth and throat. In these sexed up 
moments she thrilled to drink off his scorching body liquids. She felt like 
she was practically sucking him inside her body and that the ejaculations 
were a golden tribute. She drank greedily until his cock throbbed dryly with 
no more juice left. Then he expired on her, panting. 

"You hot little bitch, you took it all." He bit her thigh. "You are one 
brilliant cocksucker." She knew that in his rough way it was a high 
compliment and glowing in her euphoria, she laughed happily. 

 Chapter Two 

It was late the next afternoon. Joe Kellar had Irma Dawson, the blonde 
married woman, forced against the wall of her apartment, the V of his hand 
locking her head upward to stare at him. His furious face was six inches 
from hers. 

"Didn't think I could find you, bitch," he said with a grin. His eyes glowed 
like coals. "You thought if you didn't come around the SILVER STREAK bar any 
more you'd be rid of me. Since you never told me your address or your true 
last name, you thought you were home free." 

"Joe, my God, what are you doing here? I live here. I have a small son 
downstairs playing. My husband is due to come home any minute." 

"That's why I picked this time of day to make my call, sweets. I know you'll 
listen hard." 

"How did you find me?" 

"Through your buddy across the hall, Shirley, the taxi driver. Noo-she 
didn't tell me your name or where you lived. I followed her from my place 
yesterday. To the cab company where she turned in her taxi. Then here in 
that beat-up Volkswagen with all those wires that hold it together. I saw 
the whole set-up. Her, her two kids and that old woman she lives with-her 
mother. I saw you and hubby and the kid all downstairs making like a family 
... " 

"Joe, Joe," she moaned. She was pressed cruelly to the wall. 

"I got a great idea. We'll set up a sex place in my apartment, Irma. The two 
of you-Shirley and you hustling and me getting some Johns. You work 
afternoons-" 

"WHAT!" 

"Come off it, fox. You're one of those hot-hipped housewives that can never 
get enough. That Shirley's even better looking and hotter but she doesn't 
know it. We'll make a mint." 

"Ohhh, nooo," wailed Irma. 

He held her so tight against the wall that he practically pushed her through 
it. He began to kiss her and she had to take his big, wet tongue. She began 
to blush and breathe deeper as he pinioned her and gave her a flow of hot 
kisses. 

"You know you're crazy for men, Irma," he whispered. 

"Joe, Joe." But she had to press up against him, opening her mouth for that 
hot, needy tongue, even as she felt the danger. One of his hands opened her 
blouse. She struggled for a moment, but the young man was invincible. As 
usual she wore no bra and his hot hand cupped her naked tit. She felt 
luscious stabs of her sex need. The truth was, Joe's sexuality turned her on 
fiercely. If he hadn't appealed to her so much, she might've given in to him 
sooner; she actually feared a hot affair with him. 

"You think my idea's crazy," he said. He kneaded her breasts and kissed her 
cheeks hotly, murmuring. "Listen, your friend Shirley told me ... how you 
both want to blow this town-and need money." 

"Joe-oh, don't." She felt his hard-on in his pants. Her blouse was open now 
and he began to eat her free nipple. She thrust her belly hard against his 
in spite of herself. Chaotic ideas ran through her head. This was delicious 
and exciting after all the dull winter months cooped up with Frank and the 
boy. Her visits to the SILVER STREAK had been her only recent pleasure, but 
she feared Joe Kellar. After the fight in the cab she'd been afraid to go 
back to the bar and see him again. She hadn't talked to Shirley last 
night-she felt ashamed for running away ... but now Joe had solved it all by 
tracking her down. A few minutes ago she'd been going through a dulll 
afternoon, doing her housework and deprived of her usual trip to the bar. 
Then came the buzzer and she opened the door to find Joe there. He pushed in 
on her-and here she was ... 

With both her breasts glowing from his hot tonguing, she felt new thrills as 
he began to loosen her pants. He couldn't possibly ... possibly ... 

"Joe-oh, don't," she cried softly. Her cunt was swelling and flowing now; he 
really had her going. 

He kept on murmuring. 

"You work afternoons at my apartment, honey. You're good-looking enough to 
sell it for a hundred a crack. Same for Shirley. She can come over after she 
does her daily cab run. Just the three of us. We can easily do six hundred a 
day, five days a week ... maybe more-Listen, split three ways that comes to 
three grand a week, a thousand for each of us." 

"Joe-Joe-" 

"By September we'll wrap it up-you gals will have plenty of money to blow 
Chicago." 

Her pants went to her knees, to her ankles and he pulled her out of them. He 
skinned her panties all the way down. 

"Joe, I couldn't-sell it," she moaned. But, of course, she'd thought about 
it, more than once. You heard about these housewives that were bored and 
liked men, liked sex. Still, it was a lot different, thinking about 
something like that in your head and then really doing it. Who was Joe? She 
had an idea that whatever he did was faintly disreputable. That excited her 
more. You would want somebody that bent rules to get into something like sex 
for sale. He was probably a gambler or a bookie. He was always at the SILVER 
STREAK in the afternoon, he dressed very well, always neat with a tie and he 
drove an expensive car. He took phone calls and made phone calls at the bar. 
Yes, Joe was no stick-in-the-mud like Frank with a low salary and no 
ambition. Joe could make things happen-money things! 

But-right now was a bad time to think about those things. Frank was due 
home. Roy, playing downstairs, might come up any time ... She felt Joe's big 
cock between her legs. 

"Joe-there isn't time for this!" 

"Got to-take time. Been dying to fill your little groove with my hot rock," 
he gasped. "Bet you didn't know people could do it standing up. Ahhh." 

He canted her belly up with a hand on her bottom. She felt his prick notch 
her hot, wet cunt. It was fantastic. He lifted her right off the floor with 
his cock nuzzling into her cunt entrance and fucked searingly into her. As 
she felt the slide-ecstasy of being taken she found herself staring over 
Joe's shoulder at the mundane living room, at one of Roy's toys, at a pair 
of Frank's pants, just returned from the cleaners. Talk about wild! She felt 
herself ooze deeeliciously down on his powerful prodder. 

"AHHHHHH." 

"AHHHHHH." 

He lifted her slim, blonde body and she drew her legs up and his cock 
breeched her right to her womb wall. 

"Lift your legs." 

She had to do it. Her cunt felt so good with that big male jong reaming into 
it, making her essences flow. She straddled his hips, giving him a straight 
shot into her cunt. As he'd said-you could do it standing up! Her pants were 
discarded on the floor and her panties hung from one ankle. He held her by 
the buttocks and fucked up into her with fabulous motions. 

"JOE, YOU'RE DOING ME. AH-OH, I'M FUCKED!" 

She clung to him for long, lustful moments, feeling the hot drill of his 
penis driving her right to glory. It was exquisite to enjoy this wild burst 
of passion in the routine surroundings of her home. Her legs began to ache, 
but she clung to Joe tightly, thrilling, her head flung back to revel in the 
sweet rushes of coursing pleasure in her belly. Joe had a massive strength 
and a tremendous appetite for her body. His mouth locked on hers and their 
tongues twisted in each other's mouth as he kept up a steady piston action 
up her cunt, making her hotter and hotter. 

"I-can't believe it-it feels so good, Joe!" 

"Baby, you're my size!" 

She felt light-headed now and it was harder to hold her legs up as they 
began to reach the ultimate in passion. He staggered a little, too. He 
walked her across the room to her dinette and laid her flat on the table, 
her hips supported by the edge. 

"A little easier," he gasped. He drove right to glory. There were a few 
seconds of incredible speed, with his cock, whipping in and out of her and 
then he moaned. "OH-YOU-DOLL!" and went still for the delirium of his 
freeze. She felt his sexy quiver and then his cock began to swell and 
contract inside of her as he released hot gushes of spurting jissum deep in 
her cunt. As soon as she felt her pussy master the plunging prick she went 
into her own paroxysms, surging up tight, digging her fingers into his back 
and throbbing off her own heavenly joy. 

"DOIIIIIING IT! AH, AH, AH." 

Her liquid cry of orgasm was followed by happy grunts as her cunt quaked 
around his spending cock, her face turned upward, staring at the 
old-fashioned molding of her dinette ceiling, a room where she'd had a 
thousand ordinary meals and indulged in ordinary family talk. It turned her 
on like fury to enjoy this wild sex under the danger of discovery and in 
these familiar rooms where she spent her hours. Lately her husband, Frank, 
had started some nasty sex practices and she suddenly felt a new freedom, 
giving up her body to a different man. Despite her roving eye she had been 
faithful to Frank until this moment. Right in the middle of this pulsating, 
rousing orgasm, she felt she was no longer tied to Frank, to Chicago and to 
a narrow existence that had been her lot. 

"OH, JOEEEEEE," she whispered. 

They clung and spent recklessly and fully, bodies locked in adulterous joy. 

"Baby," he whispered. "We're gonna make it-but we got to make some plans for 
your friend, Shirley, too. We can set up a great thing!" ... 

The fifty dollars had come to Shirley and gone into her "Miami" wallet-only 
to fly right out again. Joe had outgrown his shoes and Kathy had an 
unexpected visit to the pediatrician. The Miami wallet was empty. In her 
guilt she knew it was her punishment for performing that crazy oral sex act 
with Irma's bar buddy. Old Baxter was right: "Don't fool around with sex; 
don't give rides to friends." 

To make it worse, her mother lost her job at the doughnut shop, where she 
worked nights while Shirley stayed home to mind the kids. Her mother could 
only get minimum wage jobs, but every little bit helped in their tight 
circumstances, so that added another strain. 

"I dunno, Shirl," her mother told her. "Maybe I should write to Doris in 
Miami and get her to send me the money to go down there. I think you'd get 
along better if you didn't have me to worry about." 

"Oh, Mom, you'll get another job soon. It's great to have you with the kids 
in the daytime." 

"Well, I dunno, Shirl. It isn't the old Chicago. Everything changes. I used 
to like your friend, Irma, but she's been acting crazy lately. Wearing a lot 
of sexy clothes and avoiding me. We used to visit a lot during the day but 
not any more. You ask me, that one's getting into trouble. I wouldn't be 
surprised if she has a man on the side." 

"Oh, Mom." 

"You watch out for her, girl. She has wild tendencies. She'll make big 
trouble for you." 

"She hasn't got it so easy, either. Mom. Frank can be pretty rough, but she 
hangs in there and takes real good care of Roy." 

Nothing was going to change, thought Shirley. Irma would go on flirting, but 
always pulling out before she had an affair. Mom would write to Doris and 
Doris would write back that she couldn't afford the money right now. Mom 
would get another job in another doughnut shop or a hamburger place and life 
would go on. Her own Miami wallet would stay empty-until she found a 
moonlighting job. There might be a chance to get a second job in a bowling 
alley as a waitress. It wasn't too confining and she could do it nights 
after the kids went to bed. Joe and Kathy planted pretty easily at the ages 
of four and three and the job was late night work. Irma could keep an eye on 
the kids a few nights a week. She surely had to do something-they were back 
on spaghetti dinners two nights a week-it was sheer murder trying to make it 
on her cab income. 

It was Shirley's custom to float past the SILVER STREAK toward the end of 
her shift. More than once she caught an afternoon drinker and they were her 
regulars who tipped pretty well. Sometimes she caught Irma and deadheaded 
her home while they chatted happily. Irma had a bright imagination despite 
her other deficiencies and provided some high spots in Shirley's hard life. 

A week had gone by since the big trouble with Joe, ending in that sex scene. 
Life had calmed down again for Shirley. She had forgiven Irma for running 
out on her and forgiven herself for her one sex fling ... after all, in a 
sexless existence it couldn't be so bad to fall off the wagon just once. She 
drove past the SILVER STREAK and there was Irma, waving her down. There was 
something odd about Irma-even though the weather was hot, she wore a coat. 

"What is it? What's going on?" Shirley asked as Irma piled in the front seat 
with her. 

"Plenty," said Irma. "Look at this." 

She pulled back her coat. She wore green nylon pajamas, just like you'd go 
to bed in, sexy and revealing, with a deep V at the neck and a body-clinging 
tightness everywhere else. 

"Irma! You're half-naked." 

"Yes. You're going to take me to Joe's apartment. You remember Joe, the guy 
we had trouble with in the cab? Well, we made it up-and lie's set me up to 
go to his apartment and have sex with a guy he knows-for money!" 

"IRMA!" 

"Don't argue me out of it. It's for a hundred dollars, just a few minutes 
work. I swore for years I was going to do something about my lousy sex life 
and always being broke-now I'm going to do it. Drive fast, he just called me 
at the STREAK. It's all set." 

"Oh, my God, Irma. That's prostitution! You-you can't!" 

"For the guy-prostitution," laughed Irma. "For me-sex and money, the two 
things I need the most and have the least of." 

Shirley almost stopped her cab and used the ball bat on Irma. The woman was 
out of her head! She argued and scolded furiously as they rolled along, 
There was the danger of disease, the chances of discovery and the ultimate 
risk of being arrested. Besides, how could Irma trust Joe? She didn't know 
him that well. Besides-think of her husband, her son, her standing in the 
neighborhood ... 

"Right as rain," laughed Irma. "I'm really the wife of an Assistant 
Supervisor of a Cook County Bureau who's set for life in this town, with his 
in-laws and his fixed salary. Just think-in twenty years he'll be a full 
supervisor and we can afford our own little house, maybe, plus a new car 
every seven years. Never mind that my sex life has gone bad and I won't have 
any to speak of." 

"Irma, that's cynical." 

"Shirl, all I want is a little fun and a few dollars Maybe I'll just do it 
once ... you're coming in aren't you?" 

"Me!" gasped Shirley. "Go in there? No way." 

"Come on. It scares me to go in there all alone to face Joe and the other 
guy. You're my best friend. Just stay long enough so I can be comfortable 
... " 

Shirley found herself in that big apartment again, with the separate side 
entrance and the living room filled with expensive antiques. There was the 
big sofa, the Tiffany lamps, the grandfather clock, all elements of class 
and stability and so far from her world. Somehow just to enter this place 
turned her head around, like going from a world of harshness to a world of 
golden shadows, romantic, where all things were possible. No wonder he'd 
turned Irma's head, too. 

Joe was alone. His friend was already in one of the bedrooms, waiting. He 
offered them drinks, but a nervous Irma couldn't wait. She excused herself 
to go off to the bedroom, telling Joe she'd be less embarrassed on this 
first time if she just barged in on the guy and handled it herself. That 
left Shirley standing there facing Joe across his elegant dining room table, 
wishing she could've refused the whiskey and water. 

"Yeah," said Joe, "you think I'm a crumb, don't you, Shirley. Some kind of 
bookie that lives in bars and rakes in big dough while people like you and 
Irma sweat for pennies. Let me tell you something, you're not the only one 
who's got troubles. My wife's in prison and my little boy lives with her 
parents in Springfield and it costs me plenty to pay for him-" 

"Wife in prison?" she gasped. 

"Yeah. She was a looker, but a kind of wild kid. Expensive tastes. Before I 
knew it she was into dealing in heroin in a big way. They nailed her for; 
five years." 

He tossed back his drink, glaring at her. "So I got a suspicion of 
good-looking women. I work for; a union. I organize. I meet lots of guys in 
the SILVER STREAK from the nearby plants. The union pays for this place. The 
union pays okay, but I've got no real money. I'm just like you and' your 
friend, looking for a way out. California,! Florida, Hawaii-any place that's 
warm in the winter where I can forget all the bad things that happened to me 
in old Chi town." 

"Hey, that's really rough," she said. Imagine being married and having your 
wife in prison! 

"My old man was a Chicago Pole. The name's different. He spent his life in 
hard, manual labor,' and I was going to fly high and get out of all that."; 
He walked around, gesturing toward the furniture.; "I got out all right. All 
this stuff, none of it's mine. I got nothing!" 

He walked around, agony written all over his face and she really felt sorry 
for him. At least what she owned was her own and she didn't have a loved one 
in jail. He took her by the wrist and led her to the other bedroom. 

"Oh, no," she said, pulling back. "I'm still on duty, Joe. I've got to get 
out and finish my shift. "You want to see your friend's all right, don't 
you? So come on and take a look." 

He led her into the bedroom and removed a picture from the wall. It exposed 
a rectangle of glass that let you look into the other bedroom! It was one 
way glass, like you read about, with a mirror on one side and a spy window 
on the other. She drew back instinctively, not wanting to spy, but of course 
Irma had wanted her to make sure everything was all right. 

It was right as rain, as Irma would say. Her blonde friend had stripped off 
her pajama tops and kissed a guy who fondled her. The guy was older looking 
with dark hair and a pretty good body. He wore only his shorts. It was 
fabulous to see the sight of the two of them getting it on. Shirley had 
seldom seen a naked adult, let alone a man and woman working up to sex with 
each other. There was Irma's white, smooth body, nude from the waist up, 
good-sized breasts hanging bare, with big red nipples. Her curves looked 
luscious. From the waist down she still wore those sexy green nylon pajamas, 
the cloth tight over her butt and thighs. Her body looked small and elegant 
against the thicker body of the man. As they kissed Shirley saw the flash of 
pink tongues and the gleam of saliva. She saw one male hand grinding on a 
female tit. 

"That doll is one hot fuck," murmured Joe. Shirley felt his warm hand on her 
own bottom. She didn't want to get stirred up or see him stirred up, so she 
pulled his hand away. Already she felt a lifting rush of excitement in her 
loins. 

"Joe, I don't want to get into anything. I just want to see-" 

He laughed. "So I'll let you alone." 

She felt guilty to watch her friend having sex. At the same time some inner 
voice told her that Irma probably wouldn't mind. As Shirley's mother said, 
Irma was a little wild. 

In the other room, Irma's pajama pants came down and there was her whole, 
gleaming nudity, the crack of her ass and the mound of her blonde pubic 
hair, the sight of a slice of juicy pink cunt between her legs. Shirley felt 
her heart pound. Irma was really built and Frank, her husband, was a fool to 
give her such a bad time ... The guy was hairy with a darker skin and he 
slid out of his shorts to expose a blunt cock with a hard-on and two 
fascinating balls. The two naked people hugged and kissed and Shirley saw a 
big male hand curl down under Irma's white buttocks to find her cunt and 
jazz it. 

"Wow, they don't waste time," she breathed. She felt her own cunt begin to 
swell and oil. If Joe hadn't been there, she've masturbated a little. 

"Sydney's a good friend from New York," said Joe. "Garment industry. A real 
sex-loving guy and he pays well, too. Irma gets a hundred." 

"Wow!" 

The big cock dug into soft girl belly. Then Sydney walked Irma to the bed. 
Shirley stood rooted to the spot. Imagine that girl box that was supposed to 
belong exclusively to Frank being jabbed open by that stiff stander from New 
York, a guy Frank would never meet or know. Adultery right in front of her 
eyes. Crazeee! 

"I can flip a switch and we can hear their sounds, too," said Joe, behind 
her. 

"No," she laughed. "It's already too much. What a dirty trick to spy on 
people like this." 

"I agree," said Joe behind her, surprising her with his admission. "Still, 
there're times in my line of work when we need it." 

She wanted to see the penetration. It embarrassed her to know that she 
wanted to see that, but since she was here. On the bed, Irma laid down and 
spread her legs. It was a beautiful sight to see, those soft-muscled, 
well-shaped thighs open and the curving legs held up ... As soon as they 
started Shirley told herself she'd leave ... The guy got in front of Irma on 
his knees and then mounted her. Shirley felt a little dizzy. What a wild 
thing to see two adult humans fuck! When you did it you didn't get to see 
the beauty of the overall scene, the two nude bodies coming together, the 
expanses of smooth flesh, the thrill of a hard male cock ... 

Sydney pressed his throbbing prick down, found Irma's slit and Shirley 
almost felt herself penetrated as he shoved forward. There! That blunt, 
darker-skinned cock gouged up into Irma's lighter skinned belly. There it 
was, male prodder sinking deep into her friend's cunt. Shirley let her 
breath out with an explosive sigh. 

She turned to go. 

"I guess I'd better not watch any more. Irma's okay, and-" 

Joe had also watched the scene over her shoulder. He had also taken off his 
clothes. He stood there, naked, with a huge hard-on. The shock of seeing him 
nude and ready to make love to her paralyzed her. She stood stock-still. 

"J-J-J-J-J-J-J-JOE!" 

To her astonishment, her nipples were already hard and her breasts hot and 
sensitive. Her cunt was creamy and sharp rushes of sex anticipation raced 
through her loins. He began to strip her, which was easy, because on this 
hot day she'd worn only her shorts, blouse and bra, plus her taxi driver's 
cap. And her boots, of course. At first she stood there like a small child 
being undressed by a parent. Her blouse came open, off. His hands unsnapped 
her bra and her full breasts appeared, reddened at the bottom from the 
confinement of the bra. His hands went to her waist. 

"OH, NO, JOE!" she cried, quickly recovering. "WE CAN'T HAVE SEX." 

He held something before her face. A piece of green paper. 

"One hundred dollars," he said. "If Irma can, why not you?" 

He plucked her Miami wallet from her waist and before her stunned eyes slid 
the one hundred dollar bill inside of it. He tossed it on the bed and went 
for her shorts. They struggled wordlessly, she trying to stop him from 
taking off her pants and shorts and he getting them open and peeling down 
the panties inside. 

"Joe-I can't do it for money." 

"Today you can." 

Whomp. Shorts and panties went to her knees and below. He picked up her 
nude, warm body and half-carried her to the bed. Off came her boots, pants 
and panties and they were in a wild melee of naked flesh on the bed. 

Her heart pumped wildly and she squirmed under his strong arms, feeling the 
dig of his big cock here and there against her flesh. 

"No, Joe, no!" she cried. 

"Baby, I want you. That's all I've been able to think about for a week. This 
sexy little body, so hung up, crazy to get a love release. Don't tell me you 
don't want it. You've had two healthy babies fucked out of your guts, so you 
can have sex for fun." 

"OH, OH, OH." He was almost inside of her. 

"I'm going to fuck you," he said. "I'm going to make you fuck other guys. 
You and me and Irma-we'll make a pot of money." 

That horrified her even more. She gave a scream of denial and at that moment 
he found her wet, swollen hole. His big cock nudged in, forced her and 
tunneled up into her cunt with blunt, powerful friction. Her clitoris burned 
in scalding ecstasy. 

He came down over her body, putting his face within inches of hers. Those 
demonic eyes glowed into hers with a hot inner life. She felt his big prick 
fully possessing her cunt, incredibly hot, tight and delicious as her wet 
walls clutched it. She shivered and felt an overall delicious weakness, a 
desire to be opened up and taken. 

"Muh-muh-murder," she murmured illogically. 

"You-stupid little coward," he said. "You want it so bad, but you won't 
admit it." 

"I-I-I-" 

"IT FEELS-FEELS GOOD," she stammered. 

That was an understatement. It felt magnificently wonderful and she had to 
move her butt against the sweet action. He gathered her in and got an arm 
behind the small of her back to give himself a better angle on her cunt. 
Straight into her vagina went his stirring rod, drilling her with skill and 
concentration. Her vagina walls sweated hot oils to ease his penetration. 
She felt the bounce of his balls when he took her length. She felt full and 
aching with erotic satisfaction. Then a disastrous thought struck her. 

"Joe-I'm not on the pill!" she cried. That should've stopped him. He 
should've at least found a rubber or something. Instead he gathered her up 
close and fucked into her faster. 

"Then I'm fucking a new baby into your hot little belly," he told her. "I 
wouldn't stop for a hundred thousand dollars." 

"AHHH, OOOHHH," she whined. "You want fucking so bad-you don't care. You 
want my jissum burning right through your womb to do your lady thing. You 
want to die with the hottest fuck you'll ever have in your life!" 

"AH, JOE, FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" she cried. His answer was to go for her nipples 
again, biting and sucking on those rich breasts, which made her cry out "HO! 
HO! HO!" She strained up against him in wanton ecstasy, shocked with 
pleasure, soaked in the sexy feeling of the powerful cock drilling into her. 
She wanted to scream in both agony and joy at the sweet gobbling of her tits 
and her happy distress at having her whole body taken over and used by the 
determined male. How shameful it was to be such an easy target. Whenever 
this man got hold of her, he just stripped off her clothes and invaded her 
most private being to use her for the pleasure of his flaring cock. And she 
enjoyed it! She babbled incoherently: 

"CAN'T-DO IT- DEEP-AHHH, FEEL IT, SEX-SO GOOD. AHHH, MY BODY. SO GOOOOOOD. 
GOOOOOOD. UH, UH, UH." 

The rise to full sexuality was an adventure to her since she'd had so little 
of it. Each good feeling, from first penetration onward, was a new surprise. 
"It feels good. It can't feel better! It feels better! It can't feel better 
than this. Ah, me. It does feel better than that." 

Ravishing her, Joe was almost silent, as if he had gained new male power by 
concentrating on his skill at whipping her body up to a fervent frenzy. 
Actually Irma and Shirley were the two best fucks he'd ever run into, both 
appearing in his life about the same time. Shirley was the better of the two 
because she was better looking and had a deeper erotic nature. Once he got 
his prick thrusting into her it was as if he had driven through into a hot 
furnace of vulnerable loveliness that had to tremble, writhe and succumb to 
his fucking fury. 

"Give me your sex, you little bitch. I want all of it. Squeeze my cock with 
your cunt. Whine it out and scream it out and use up one of those wild 
orgasms you've held inside and treasured." 

Her body felt so good that she could no longer control it. Her eyes got big. 
Her helpless legs began to jerk as they tried to lock against his hips. 

"AHHH, JOE-EEEEEE," she keened. 

He felt his triumph in whipping her to exquisite orgasm. His body succumbed 
to the final flowering of intense feeling, rushing up from his glowing, 
sensitized prick to the ultimate carnal stimulation of his body. His muscles 
locked down in a delicious paralysis. He held her tight and grunted. 

"TAKE IT, GIRL, TAKE IT." 

Spurt, spurt, spurt. How could anything feel as good as this? Each thrilled 
gush both excited and relieved his overloaded sex equipment. Prostate and 
balls burst into foaming vigor as he seeded her with spasmic bursts of joy. 

"AHHHHHH, BUH-BABEEEEEE," he went. 

Her cunt squeezed on his explosive cock, articulate, powerful spasms of 
girlish surrender, sucking in and pleasuring his spilling prick. They held 
their lock bursting and moaning and wallowing in the final payoffs that 
rocked them to the utmost limits of pleasure. 

"JOE-SOOO HOT-SO FUUUUUUCKED," she went. 

She had completely forgotten Irma and the other man, or who she was or 
where. She was in immersed triumphant orgasm. To give her body sexuality to 
that dominating prick was all that mattered in the world. 

Joe tapered at last, male joy done, relaxing on top of his conquest in that 
welcome, spent weakness that made sex so good. To be strong, plunging 
excitedly as you whipped the female to submissive cunt throbs and moans was 
his lascivious delight. To explode in her, depositing life stuff and then 
sink back to a glowing, neutral weakness was his reward. The hotter and 
stronger the sex, the greater the unmoving, silent euphoria afterwards. 

They clung to each other wordlessly as their breathing slowed and their 
worldly identities slowly returned to suppress the animal that had raged. It 
had been too fierce and hot to return to I the matter-of-fact life quickly. 
Only when a discreet knock came on the door did Joe, with a groan at leaving 
the warm blanket of Shirley's nude ' flesh, rise and cover himself to answer 
it ... 

Later, driving home, Irma said: "I can't do it, Shirley. It was terrible. 
Not as good as Joe. Not even as good as Frank." She waved her hundred dollar 
bill. "It's not even worth this. I'm quitting the same day I started. It's 
over." 

Shirley bit her lips. It had not occurred to her that Joe had also fucked 
Irma. Her special soft and tender feeling for him began to dwindle. For a 
few golden minutes she'd thought it was the beginning of love; but away from 
Joe and his elegant ; apartment, she realized it was only lust. 

Nor was that her only let-down by Joe. Her Miami wallet was empty. Joe had 
carefully eased her out of the place and kept his hundred dollars. Miami was 
as far away as the day she'd bought the wallet. 

 Chapter Three 

Everything was terrible. Take, for instance, right now. She drove a couple 
from O'Hare Airport to one of the outlying motels. The guy had an eye for 
her; there was no doubt about that. But his prim wife sat on her side of the 
back seat staring at the Chicago landscape and Shirley could tell by the set 
of the woman's mouth that the tip would be minimal. If she had him alone, 
she knew she could up that tip by a little sex. Even a sex tease, perhaps. 
He kept his eyes on her breasts. This past week Shirley had stopped wearing 
a bra and it wasn't just because of the heat. 

"You're taking us the long way around," snapped the woman. 

"No, Ma'am, there's a detour. They're working on the road." 

"She's a good cab driver, Wilma," said the man. "I'm glad to see a young 
woman getting breaks like driving cabs." 

"Shut up, Harvey," said the woman. 

Shirley drove on glumly with her now-silent couple. Her past week had been 
horrible because her mother had not found a job. She had a chance 

to work for a pharmacist in a drugstore at better wages than the doughnut 
shop, but they kept putting her mother off. Shirley knew that such a good 
job would not come through for her mother. Doris had written from Florida 
that she couldn't afford to send the fare for Mom to visit, although Mom 
would be welcome if she could get there on her own. Things were always out 
of reach when you were poor and struggling. 

She swung into the motel, waited till her customers registered and drove 
down the line of units to their room to unload their luggage. They had local 
relatives who'd pick them up later and provide transportation. 

The woman went into the unit. "Harvey, see that the bags are unloaded 
carefully. I have to go to the bathroom. And don't tip more than a dollar." 

The man rolled his eyes and grunted while the wife disappeared. 

Shirley, out of desperation, had begun to hype her customers and in her low 
state today she flared right out at the man. 

"Mister, I need more than a dollar tip. That was a long run." 

"Honey, if it was me, you could have five dollars for being so cute. You got 
a body that won't stop." His hungry eyes rested on her shirtful of breasts. 

Shirley had never done anything like this before, but today everything 
conspired to make her blurt out. 

"Meet me around the corner in a few minutes and maybe I can earn a bigger 
tip." 

Harvey, a thin guy of about forty, grinned. "Listen-how about right now. 
Wilma always takes fifteen minutes in the bathroom, no matter what. Later is 
no good. She sticks to me like plaster." 

"Here? Now?" squeaked Shirley. "Sure, right in the back of the cab so she 
won't walk out on us. I'd pay twenty dollars for a quick hug, a kiss and an 
orgasm." 

It was one of those things that happened so fast and naturally that there 
was no hesitation or embarrassment. They tossed the bags into the unit, got 
in the back of the cab and he had his hands on her breasts almost before 
they settled. 

"Baby, you're built like a million dollars," he breathed. "Oh, my God, what 
tits." 

He was a breast man all right. He didn't try to kiss her, or hug her. He 
didn't try to feel between her legs. He undid three buttons and began to 
suck on one nipple while he kneaded and palmed the other. 

"AHH' YOU SMELL SO GOOD. YOU FEEL SO GOOD. SO SOFT, FIRM, WOMANLY'" 

He was in seventh heaven as she struggled with his zipper and brought out 
his cock. It was already hard, quite small, but as eager as any she'd ever 
seen. She took it in her fist and jogged him. 

relishing the firm up-standing sex meat and thrilling to his hot breast 
kissing. She felt sex flashes right down to her belly. 

She started to bend down to suck him, but he stopped her. 

"NO, BABY, NO. YOUR TITS DRIVE ME CRAZY. IF YOU SUCK I CAN'T SEE 'EM." 

"You really dig topless," she laughed. 

"All the way." 

He kissed the top of her succulent tits as they swelled up to the areolas 
and erect nipples. He tongued down the supple flesh to the nipple and ran a 
ring around her erection, sending a hot glow down her body. He licked on 
down to the sweet; curve where her breast met her torso and on back to her 
cleavage. Then he licked under the other breast and up to the nipple again, 
up to the top, then on up to the soft hollow of her throat, tongue diggin 
in. They both felt her pulse pound. Then he kissed her lightly on the lips 
but escaped once more down to her glorious twin peaks of girlhood, He made 
strangled sounds of joy in his throat Once he came up for air to gasp. 

"-FIRST MOMENT I SAW YOU, CRAZY TO! TOUCH YOUR TITS' NEVER GET ENOUGH-SWEET 
GLORY." 

She jacked him off and felt him throb in dry ecstasy, his cock red hot in 
her hand. It looked fussed and potent, despite its small size. She slid a 
hand between her legs and frigged herself, beginning to rise and moan her 
own delirious pleasure. 

"You sure know how to make breast love," she crooned. 

"JUST P-P-PULL ME OFF-" he gasped. "WANT TO GO-SUCKING ONE AND FEELING UP 
THE OTHER. IT'S HEAVEEEEEENNNNNN." 

There was nobody else around this part of the motel, but she was a little 
worried that Wilma would come out of the bathroom too soon. It had been 
eight or ten minutes since Wilma had gone in. If she came out they'd have 
about ten seconds to get decent. 

It was still two more minutes before he came-two luscious, glorious minutes 
of concentrated sex, with Shirley going dizzy from the hot use he made of 
her breasts, jacking him off and stroking herself. She was soaked with girl 
juice. She made breathless little gasps in her throat. 

"NOW-OH, NOW!" he cried softly. He began to strain up to throw it off. 

Quickly she reached in the front seat and got some tissues that always rode 
on the seat beside her. It passed through her mind that she was going to see 
her first male orgasm ever. In all her sex it had happened inside of her 
body. He fixed his mouth on one nipple and dug his hand into the other. They 
clung. She felt his body stiffen as he gave a groan of deep delight. She 
twisted her head past his and saw it all. The cock in her fist seemed to 
swell a little and a liquid jet burst out of the expanded dark hole. She 
expertly caught it as it shot upward. And another and another, while he 
clung to her tits. Then she capped the spurting prick with the tissues and 
let him spume into its softness until it was done. She felt the body hot 
semen through the tissue, a lot of it. 

"HAH. WOOOOOO. GREAT!" he gasped. 

He fell back, his face glowing. "Dear, that was the top moment in my sex 
life. I've never done it quite like that. With such fabulous tits." 

"We'd better clean up the act," she laughed, getting off of him. 

There was barely time for him to zipper up and she to close her shirt blouse 
before the sour-faced Wilma appeared in the door. 

"What's going on out there?" 

"I want more tip than a dollar," sang out Shirley. 

"Quit arguing with the bitch, Harvey," said Wilma. "Give her a dollar. 
That's all you get, kid." 

Harvey took out his wallet and paid her off. "Yeah, all that jawboning is a 
waste of time. Eight for the trip-" he peeled it off-" plus a dollar tip. Go 
soak your head, cunt." He winked at her. 

"No need to be vicious, Harvey," said as a mollified Wilma, turning her 
back. "I don't approve of that kind of language." 

"Dumb taxi drivers," growled Harvey. Behind his wife's back he winked and 
grinned and disappeared, accepting her happy wave. 

Shirley drove out onto the street and parked. She was so hot she wanted to 
die. Sitting behind the wheel, she spread her legs and jobbed herself right 
through her shorts. Her tits were so hot that all she had to do was use her 
free hand to massage inside of her shirt and restore the sexual rush Harvey 
had started and burn it off. She gasped. She strained up and locked her 
legs. Heavenly sweeps of orgasm caught up her cunt as she got it off with 
luscious throbs. "OH, OH, OH," she went, remembering that hot male mouth on 
her nipples and the feel of that spurting, jissum-tossing prick. 

She relaxed, glowing. Only then did she see a guy, a stranger, standing on 
the curb watching her, his mouth open. She grinned at him: 

"Guys do it," she said. "You do it to yourself. Why shouldn't we?" 

She waved a hand at the startled pedestrian and drove off laughing. Harvey 
hadn't cheated her, either. Buried in with the ride money and the disputed 
dollar tip was a crisp, new twenty dollar bill. She put it in her Miami 
wallet, slid the wallet back in her waist and felt better than she had in a 
week. Maybe her luck was about to change ... 

A few minutes later she knew it was better. A man jumped out from another 
motel, wildly waving. He wanted a ride all the way out to O'Hare, where 
she'd picked up Harvey and Wilma, a good long pull with the flag down. She 
felt good enough to risk more sex for another big tip, but this man was too 
harrassed-he just wanted to get there. She drove fast and got a fair tip on 
that one. 

Airports were plush hunting grounds for taxis in all cities. They also could 
mean lots of dead time waiting. The line up was sometimes discouragingly 
long. Today she hit it just right for the second time. The cabs peeled off 
the line like military aircraft zooming on a target. She caught a couple 
headed way downtown to one of the lake front hotels. They were both 
attractive, in their mid-thirties and well dressed with expensive luggage. 
She couldn't suggest any sex here, but she pondered telling them about her 
short finances and her kids to work on their sympathy. Instead, the 
conversation took a surprising turn. They identified themselves as the 
Oliphants. They said they'd heard that Chicago was a swinging city and they 
liked to swing. Did they know of any young lady who-uh-might be interested? 

Shirley knew that cabbies were common sources of prostitute connections in 
most cities. She'd never played that game-what with potential troubles with 
flaky hookers, their pimps and possibly the vice squad, she had never felt 
it was a good idea for the mother of two, divorced and without a sex life. 
She told them that she didn't! work with hookers. Then she thought of Irma. 
But it was probably too late in the day for that. She herself was about due 
to check in and go off shift. 

"I have a friend-she might be interested-but it would have to be tomorrow," 
she offered. 

"We were thinking of tonight," the man said, shaking his head. 

There was a long pause. While she studied their faces in the rear view 
mirror she saw that they had looked her over at the same time. The man was 
really cute, with long hair, mod clothes and a generous smile. He had a good 
build and was probably well-hung. The woman, a redhead, was a beauty, too. 
At the airport she'd noticed the woman's figure and thought her attractive 
and her face was even better. She had one of those creamy skins redheads 
often enjoyed. They wouldn't have any trouble if they went to the right bars 
in making a pickup, she thought. She told them of some of the places she'd 
heard of that might be good contact joints, the WILDFLOWER and HIGH FLYERS. 

They absorbed this information, but still stared at her. 

"I don't suppose you have a hubby who swings, dear," said the woman, whose 
name was Claire. 

"Don't have a husband," said Shirley. "Divorced." She grinned. Was it 
possible that they thought she might swing with them? 

"You could make a hundred dollars," said Stu Oliphant. 

"Oh, no," said Shirley. "That's not my bag." 

A couple of more miles of silence flowed under the wheels. The couple 
whispered to each other She thought about that wallet in her belt and her 
palms sweated. How about going home with a hundred and twenty instead of 
twenty. 

As they swung into State, she suddenly found herself blurting: 

"In a threesome what does the odd girl do?" 

The man had a sparkle in his eye. "Oh, Clair likes to watch and use her 
vibrator, don't you dear." 

"Love it," said the woman. "Stu is very clever with two ladies at once, the 
man with the golden tongue." 

They all laughed. Sometimes you met people that you felt easy with at once 
and she felt the Oliphants were like that. 

They reached the hotel. While the doorman helped with the bags, Stu paid her 
off. 

"Why don't you take a chance with us?" murmured Stu. "You said you were 
about to go off shift. You're a very attractive young lady. We couldn't hope 
to find a better one. We like you-you like us. It's an hour out of your 
life-and a hundred dollars." 

"No," she said, "No." The risk was just too great. They were too forward 
about it. They might be the Vice Squad. Or they might be private detectives 
testing the Regency drivers. That went on all the time. Or they might be 
wackos that would tie her up and press burning cigarettes to her flesh. 
There was so much to worry about! 

Despite her refusal, Stu tipped her well and the handsome couple trooped off 
with bright smiles self-confident, rich and ready for the good or the bad. 
Shirley watched them go sadly. That was that-wasn't it? She got into her cab 
and drove off. As she rounded the corner a big limousine pulled out of a 
parking garage and she had to stand on her brakes, yell and pound the horn. 
She had swerved right into the parking entrance. A shaft of sunlight seemed 
to beckon her up the ramp. On impulse she spun inside and parked. 

There was no sign of the Oliphants in the lobby, but she merely waited a few 
minutes, got their room number from the operator and called their room on 
the house phone, her palms sweating and her throat tight. 

"Mr. Oliphant?" 

"Yes." 

"Shirley Singleton, your cab driver, I-uh-believe you left something in my 
cab." 

"Oh, Shirley, yes! What did we leave behind?" 

"A great opportunity," she said, scared but determined. "Are you-still 
interested?" 

"Are we? My dear girl, we know of no one we'd rather see. Come right on up 
this instant." 

Nobody on the crowded elevator paid her the slightest attention, but she 
felt that everyone could read her secret. She got off on the floor above 
theirs as a precaution and felt silly for acting so guilty, so secretive. As 
she tapped on the door, her heart pounded. She was in for it now, yet her 
determination held her there. The other sex had been such fun, so quick, so 
great and all those lucky fares. The tides seemed to run with her today. 

Claire opened the door and escorted her in as she were an important business 
guest while Stu's face flooded with a welcome smile. He locked the door 
behind her-and there she was, committed to having sex with two perfect 
strangers. 

"Whu-what do we do now?" asked Shirley apprehensively. 

"Why, we take off our clothes and enjoy the sight of each other's bodies," 
laughed Claire "Mostly we don't get such a heavy, serious look on our faces. 
It's not like being executed, you know. She moved up to Shirley and kissed 
her lightly on the lips, her smile so real and warm that Shirley began to 
relax. The Oliphants eased out of their clothes as if it were the most 
ordinary thing in the world to disrobe in front of a stranger. Shirley got 
down to her bra and panties, but stuck there. 

"Oh, there's no need to hide those glories," said Claire and she undid 
Shirley's bra and exposed her voluptuous breasts. 

"Nor be shy about the part of our body the affords so much pleasure," said 
Stu as he took his panties down so she could step out of them. 

She feared they would jump on her and drag her to the bed for immediate hot 
sex. Instead, Claire took a white plastic vibrator out of her luggage. 

"Real swingers enjoy the slow rise to the rhapsody of sex," said Claire. 

Then she began to pass the cock-like, buzzing instrument over her body, 
asking Shirley if she knew how to use such a device. Shirley had used one 
only once-borrowed her mother's, but had felt that it was degenerate to use 
a mechanical device for sex. As she watched Claire and listened to her she 
saw how wrong she was. Instead of plunging it at once between her legs, 
Claire used it all over her body-to stimulate her nipples, against the soft 
flesh of her neck, down her troso, around on her buttocks and down her crack 
so that the bullet-like end of it peeped out between her legs. Shirley's 
eyes followed the trail of the vibrator and took in the sensual sight of 
seeing the little redhead sex up. That creamy, beautiful face glowed and the 
eyes got dreamy, head back, long, graceful arm moving. Claire had round, 
high breasts, not nearly as rich as Shirley's, but with exquisite nipples 
thar now stood hard and hungry before her viewers. She had a nice torso, a 
little more voluptuous than Shirley's and elegant thighs and legs. The 
number she did with the vibrator was almost a solo dance, ending finally in 
the use of the plastic cock between her pink cunt lips. As it glowed with 
Claire's body oils, nudging into her cunt opening Shirley could not help but 
feel entranced. 

Shirley was also able to stare at Claire's body without embarrassment as she 
watched the act assessing her charms and wondering about her sexuality. It 
was fabulous to see an adult woman naked and feel free to speculate on her 
sexual prowess. How excited did those breasts with their hard nipples make 
Stu-and other men. How hot were kisses on those soft red lips, how many 
tongues had forced their way into that wet little mouth? Shirley boldly 
studied the other woman's sex organ, from the patch of red pubic hair to 
thin pink folds of a dainty little cunt. She wondered how many cocks had 
peeled open those innocent-looking petals to ream up into the tight compact 
woman's belly. It made her hot to think what her life would've been like if 
she had lived like Claire as a swinger. 

All of this time Stu stayed out of sight behind Shirley, but she sensed that 
he reveled in the sight of her nude body. It must be so with swingers-to 
enjoy the pleasure of seeing the naked body of a stranger of the opposite 
sex, knowing that you would soon lock into love with them. 

Stu appeared in front of her again as Claire finished her explorations with 
her vibrator and stood, like an actress in the spotlight, head back belly 
slowly undulating as the white plastic prick drove deeper and deeper up her 
tight tunnel. 

Shirley felt a rush at seeing the man's naked body. He had much less body 
hair than most men. 

Apparently he exercised, because he had nice muscle ridges where they 
counted. His cock had locked hard. It was as big as Joe's, slightly darker 
than his other flesh, gracefully shaped with the dart head expanded and 
full, with big veins prominent in the stiff meat. His balls were full and 
big. 

He put his hands on his wife's shoulders and forced Claire to her knees. 
Claire reached out the vibrator to Shirley. 

"Wash it if you wish, dear," she said. 

As Shirley took the vibrator, Claire bent her head and sucked Stu's big cock 
into her mouth. It was beautiful to see, the white-skinned, nude woman, with 
that glorious long red hair flowing, bent, slave-like, before the male and 
sucking his scorching prick. Stu moaned softly with rapturous joy, coming up 
on his toes as he bucked his rod into Claire's mouth. Her saliva made his 
prick gleam as if it were satin. There were exciting, obscene suck sounds 
and the sight of Claire's pink tongue and white teeth pleasing the hard cock 
as Shirley watched. 

There was no way that Shirley could not use the vibrator on herself, it was 
so sexy. Not only did she not want to wash it, but reveled in the feel of 
the other woman's body oils, warming the vibrator shaft. She found her clit 
and worked the buzzing fake prick into her cunt, adding her own soft moans 
to the sex sounds in the room. 

Stu beckoned to her. Once she moved over and came into his arms, he began to 
kiss her and kneading her full breasts, twisting a little so that Claire 
could continue to suck him. It was comfortable. She'd had time to get used 
to the sight of their naked bodies and had her desire aroused by Claire's 
performance and then the vibrator. She was deliciously hot-and wicked-to 
stand there with the swingers and rock on the vibrator while the man kissed 
her and another woman sucked on the man's juicy prick. His body was hot-she 
felt hot little surges and twitches at the luscious cocksuck he received. 

Claire stopped sucking and rose. 

"You finish his front, dear," she said. "I've got a job to do in the rear." 

Puzzled, but hot and excited, Shirley fell to her knees before Stu and slid 
the hot, hard and wet cock into her own mouth. She felt a deep belly thrill 
to capture this eager manhood in her mouth after another woman had sucked it 
to reddened high pleasure. 

Claire went to the bureau and opened a jar of cold cream. She dipped a large 
gob onto her middle finger. She came back to stand behind Stu and feel 
inside his asscrack. Sucking his prick, Shirley could feel his quivers as 
Claire's fingers worked on his asshole with the cold cream. He gave an 
animal grunt and Shirley knew the woman's long finger had violated his 
sphincter. 

"Some men like a prostate massage during sex," Claire called over Stu's 
shoulder. 

"FUH-FEELS BURNING-AHHH-SILKEN-" cried Stu. "FEELS GREAT-WHILE BEING SUCKED. 
AHHHHHH." 

He began to ram faster into Shirley's mouth and she felt him rising to 
climax. It was kinky to feel this new sex action and sense how rich it made 
Stu feel. His wife's finger, properly greased, dug up into his ass, burning 
sexily against his prostate, stimulating the most tender part of his body, 
while Shirley hungrily sucked his lusty cock to make him pant and rise right 
up to glory. He was captured between that lascivious finger and the torrid 
suck. They were all excited at his male pleasure, Claire ass-fucking him 
faster with her finger, driving his cock almost literally into Shirley's 
mouth. Shirley sucked harder and faster to cream him off. There were hot 
wild seconds while his loins bucked fiercely. 

"AH, LADIES, AHHHHHH, OH-I-AM-FUCKING!" he groaned, drumming his belly fast 
in the sweet action. 

"GOOOOOONE," he sang and gave deep, wounded gasps of pleasure. The muscles 
of his abdomen went hard, his whole body stilled and he started unleashing 
hot bursts of male seed into Shirley's mouth. She gurgled happily in her 
throat and drank the spewing white cream as the man lifted on his toes and 
spent it all off with delicious relieving throbs. Claire helped milk the 
liquid joy out of him with her reaming finger silk-stroking his excited 
prostate. Shirley sensed the completeness of his sex throw from this added 
stimulation. Each spurt seemed to explode from his belly with enormous back 
pressure and his thighs quivered with burning ecstasy as he exerted his 
every effort; to complete those hot male throws into her mouth. She used the 
vibrator on her own cunt and got dizzy in those ecstatic, golden seconds of 
his orgasm as he pumped out his juicy sperm. 

"Fantastic," sighed Stu, thanking them both when he'd finally released every 
drop inside of him. He practically staggered over to the bed to lie down, 
still panting. "Got to rest up for the next round." 

Claire made her stand under the water while she put on a shower cap over 
those glorious red tresses, then joined Shirley in the shower. Breasts 
pressed against breasts as Claire hugged her. Claire's warm flesh felt very 
good. Then the woman cupped her hands over Shirley's buttocks and began to 
gyrate her cunt on Shirley's pelvis. Shirley could feel the soft female sex 
organ sliding on her bone and; Claire's finger reaching in from the back to 
stimulate her cunt. Shocking thrills rocked through her. Crazy for action, 
Shirley bent a little and began to suck Claire's breasts, which made the 
redhead moan with delirious pleasure. The water made their bodies slick as 
they plastered together in the warmth and the privacy of the tub. 

Without the hot driving male it was different, slow and dreamy, sexy and 
soft, each woman enjoying the yielding flesh of the other. Shirley hesitated 
at the first kisses of her partner, but the soft petals of those lips, the 
sweet breath and the teasing tongue on her mouth, were too much. There were 
little kisses and then bigger kisses, hotter and wetter and finally, with a 
sigh, Shirley opened her mouth and explored Claire's mouth with her tongue 
while she sucked sweet saliva. 

All of the time that lusty, driving hand of Claire's stimulated her cunt and 
Claire's cunt rocked hot and tight on her pubic hair and pelvic bone to add 
heat to the sex. 

"OH, CLAIRE, I'M SO HOT AND SEXED UP, I'VE GOT TO EXPLODE!" cried Shirley. 

The warm water, the kissing, the rich contact of the other woman's nudity 
and her own prior excitement, made her shudder with rousing desire to expend 
her passion. She felt Claire slide away from her to go down on her knees as 
Claire had done to Stu. Shirley wanted to cry out that she was a nice girl 
and that she didn't want the lesbian contact. She wanted to make the point 
that she was a normal girl and was not interested in giving up her sexuality 
to another woman. At the same time, the kinkiness of it-the privacy of 
it-the lusciousness of it, all seduced her. The Oliphants would leave 
Chicago and no one would ever know about this secret, sexy moment in the 
shower with this beautiful woman. 

She groaned with joy as Claire's hot mouth claimed her cunt. Gently, yet 
insistently, Claire began to eat her cunt, driving a questing tongue deeper 
and deeper inside Shirley's sex tunnel making her gasp in heady pleasure. 
Claire held her hips and serviced her with hot suction and clit play, so 
that she humped greedily on Claire's face while she laughed in 
embarrassment. 

"SORRY-I-GOT TO GET IT OFF. AH CLAIRE. AHHHHHH!" 

Grunting and moaning, she held Claire shoulders and froze, then exploded her 
orgasm ecstasy, paying back to the world all the excitement she'd taken in 
on seeing these beautiful, naked strangers and joining in their sex play. 

"AH, SO GOOD. AH, AH, AH." Hot, relieving throbs seared through her belly as 
she rode off to glory on Claire's tongue, head thrust back, loins moving, 
the sweet pleasure rocking her body. It felt so very good, DAMN GOOD, to get 
it off completely, honestly and fully with another loving human being, never 
mind what the sex of that person was. 

Claire laughed happily and kissed her soft inner thighs. 

"Both of us knew you had a hot, erotic nature the minute we saw you at the 
airport," she said. 

"We didn't want any other partner except you, Shirley, dear." 

"You two sure know about sex," sighed Shirley gratefully. 

Then Claire, understanding how a woman can string out her orgasm, put her 
tongue back on Shirley's cunt and gave her more stimulation to release new, 
hot throbs of joy in Shirley's guts, which felt like a molten pool of liquid 
gold with all of this frenzied excitement ... 

The three naked people lay on the bed at their ease, talking and laughing 
about nothing in particular, enjoying the intimacy in conversation that 
comes best after sex. The Oliphants told her that they had made a lot of 
money in some timely real estate deals in the Southwest and had decided to 
take a year off and explore sex in various places across the country. With 
plenty of money and being both attractive persons in their thirties, they'd 
had no trouble in finding action in several cities. 

"No, it's not the very young who swing the most," Stu said. "You need a 
settled way of life, a willing partner and both money and time to work into 
it. There are lost nights and disappointments. There are also sudden 
surprises, like us right now, to make up for the poor times." 

They told her they'd gone to nude therapy centers on the West Coast, joined 
swingers' clubs in Boulder, Colorado, spent time at a commune in Virginia 
and enjoyed a week on a yacht taking off from New York. It was an existence 
almost inconceivable to Shirley, stuck with her job and her life here in 
Chicago. 

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" asked Shirley, big-eyed to hear about all 
of this experience. 

"Once for two weeks we didn't do a thing," laughed Stu. "We didn't even 
touch each other." 

"But it's a part of love," said Claire. "Does one tire of love? There's so 
little in the world and we find we can have at least some for all of our 
partners, however much we can give and they can take." 

"Don't you worry about losing each other to some stranger?" 

"No," smiled Claire. "The fear of losing one's mate is a problem for the 
straights who don't have many chances to swing. They confuse the excitement 
of a new body with a deeper thing. When you swing you get used to 
infatuations. When you can screw an exciting new person as much as you want, 
it soon becomes commonplace and then the personality counts more than the 
body." 

"The truth shocks most straights," said Stu. "Sometimes it is very pleasant 
to give up your wife for a couple of weeks or a months and let some other 
guy worry about her. You come back together with new excitement. Those that 
go overboard and break up their marriages would probably break up anyway. 
No, open marriage is the most stable because you stay together because you 
want to, not because you have to." 

"Whatever it is, I'm sure the money security helps," sighed Shirley. 

The kissing began again, relaxed and easy and Shirley enjoyed the luxury of 
letting her passion rise, playing with Stu's now-hard cock as she savored 
the caresses of both Stu and Claire. Stu fondled her cunt, getting it wet 
and swollen while Claire kissed her breasts and excited her at that point. 
Soon both Oliphants centered on Shirley's mouth, French kissing her one at a 
time and changing off. It was heavenly! 

Shirley's body reached a state of premium elegance as she reveled in the 
happy knowledge that she turned both of them on like fury. When Stu finally 
mounted her and spread her legs, she canted up her belly for his prick 
without any hesitation. It felt like a warm, pulsing bomb about to explode 
in her entire lower regions as he fucked himself deep into her cunt. 

"SHIRL, YOU'RE ONE SEXY BITCH!" he gasped. 

"Go slow," Shirley begged him. "It feels so good I'm afraid the top of my 
head will fly off. I'll cum too soon." 

Claire went back to her vibrator, lying on the bed beside them, giving the 
lovers a chance to enjoy their fuck-lock and get used to the reaming. 

delicious action of Stu's member gloving in and out of her. He eased down on 
her, kissing and fondling her nipples at the same time and she rose to that 
hot, impossible-to-contain feeling of powerful sex. Still he seemed to hold 
her in this magnificent state just below orgasm, rocking into her, making 
her juices flow like mad, without forcing her over the edge with his own 
excitement. 

Then she heard deep animal groans beside her and turned her head to see 
Claire making it on the buzzing vibrator. The beautiful redhead dug her 
heels into the bed and lifted her body, straining and crying out in joy: 

"I-I-I-I'M GOIIIINNG." 

It was an absolutely kinky sensation to lie on the bed with a man's cock 
working in and out of her cunt, then to turn her head and see a naked woman 
getting herself off with a cock-shaped vibrator plunging in and out of her 
cunt. The wet woman was so hot that her juices escaped around the base of 
the device, gleaming on her thighs. Soft thigh and calf muscles stood out in 
bold relief as Claire hung paralyzed in her delirium of pleasure, head 
thrust back, eyes closed. Then she jerked, making spastic contortions that 
rocked the bed as she gave up her sexuality in orgasm. 

"OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH," she cried, bucking and plunging in her wild joy. 

Shirley found her own loins pumping faster as she saw Claire reach her 
crest, explode, then fall back, still flexing from the spasms of delight in 
her aroused cunt. 

"She does like that vibrator," laughed Shirley to Claire's husband. 

"She likes anything that grooves on her hot little clit," said Stu. "It also 
excites her to see me fuck another woman, just like it turns me on when some 
guy pumps his penis up her tunnel." 

"Oh, Stuuuuuu," said Shirley. The open sexuality of this couple left her in 
awe. 

She felt her nervous system begin to center on what had happened to her. 
Stu's prick seemed to organize those touches and flicks and runs of pleasure 
into a solid, rising glow of pleasure in her body. What had been daring, 
thrilling, exciting because it was new, because it was forbidden-in allowing 
a married man to screw her slowly changed into a warm and intimate 
excitement of this particular man, his prick working inside of her body, 
trying to lay his lifestuff within her. 

That riding cock demanded vulnerability, tenderness and an openness, so that 
she could excite his orgasm and extract his intimate sperm into her body, 
both for her pleasure and his. The rewards were so unique and special-the 
hot thrills of the ride to orgasm, the wild moments of surrender and the 
relief from the tension of the sex. 

"Stu, I love it. I love you. I love Claire. It turns me all the way 
around-to be naked with strangers, to become friends in minutes, to trade 
sex so, freely-" 

"Only swingers know it, baby. The extreme risk of offering your body and 
your feelings to another. We've found love and sex bothers almost everybody, 
because it's so close to life creation, we think. Even the most casual 
sex-ahhh-good-still makes use of our life-creating parts, male and female." 

"You make it sound so s-s-serious," she breathed. 

"The great riddle," he smiled. "Those who take it seriously find it leading 
them into casualness. Those who are casual find one day it is serious. We 
think it's both-and every orgasm's different." 

They had kept up a steady pace of fucking while they talked, the first time 
that Shirley realized that in some sex events you could still relate 
mentally. However, that was true only up to a point. She felt the sensations 
change. Claire had fallen back and was still for the moment. Stu's cock had 
begun to reach her crazed animal desires and he, too, was losing touch with 
his mind as his body drilled into hers faster and faster. 

They entered the hot, rising world of intimacy that was a prelude to orgasm, 
feeling the pure physical actions of their bodies. He felt her cunt wet and 
drench his cock with hotter, more abundant juices and felt her inner quivers 
and shifts of pleasure. He felt his own centering to drive his prick, 
straight as an arrow, into her being. She felt that same narrowing down of 
his drive to make her and dominate her for her to accept the deliciously 
vulgar play of his prick into her intimate sex parts. 

"Stu-I-it's getting to me," she said, working her butt a little off the bed 
to speed up the action and satisfy her hungry clit. 

"Now-serious-" he gasped. 

She sensed that she was rapidly approaching climax and he wasn't far behind. 
She closed her eyes to thrill in that ultimate awareness of pleasure 
sensations-and felt a warm, musky closeness envelop her face. Wet cunt lips 
touched her mouth. Her lips tasted a salty, slightly pungent flavor of 
female cunt honey. She opened her eyes to find herself staring up at the 
creamy belly of the other female, to see the ripe texture of her skin and to 
feel pink, intimate girl flesh press down on her mouth for action. Claire 
had quietly mounted her upper body and brought her belly to Shirley's face. 

She recoiled for a moment in surprise, but it was only for a moment. 
Suddenly she saw the glory of the opportunity-to lose her body and mind and 
soul totally in the sex parts of her two lovers. She began to suck avidly on 
Claire's cunt, burying her face in that luscious crotch, trying to smother 
herself with the feel, taste and smell of sex while she used her tongue to 
force open the hot channel offered to her. Down below the plunging prick 
lifted her to sheer ecstasy. 

"God-you're beautiful-hot-" cried Claire. "Baby, we're going for a big one," 
said Stu, his voice faint behind his wife's back. 

It was an utter surrender to sensuality for Shirley. She lost herself in the 
soft and silken wetness of Claire's cunt and the smooth, rocking prick drive 
of Stu's bulging member, her body rising a little to lock in intimate 
contact with both, She closed her eyes, while soft thighs closed her ears 
and she existed in the sealed world of total sex. That cock piston flashed 
into her tender belly so hotly that it felt like it had turned her belly 
into soft cheese and split it open. Deeper and deeper went the rampaging 
cock, whipping her to greater pleasure, while her clit seemed to expand to 
the size of a saucer, quivering with joy. "MMMMMM. UNK." 

Her animal sounds did not match the elegant pleasure of her orgasm. Her body 
locked ... drifted ... floated in grandeur outside of all space and time ... 
then began to ache with desire and burst with relief. Desire ... relief ... 
desire ... relief ... It was the most tremendous orgasm she'd ever felt, her 
cunt squeezing powerful throbs against Stu's prick and pitching him into his 
freeze and then his hot bursts of orgasmic gusto. She felt his lifestuff 
blast into her, felt her cunt play a duet of throbs against his stirring 
bursts, as sweet, sweet pleasure expanded her beyond comprehension. 

When it got so exquisite that she feared she could no longer stand it, she 
began to taper, releasing Claire's cunt now to laugh in relief, coming back 
to herself safely, feeling that she'd been out of her being for a hundred 
years on a long pleasure trip. 

"OH. FOLKS, FOLKS, OH, FOLKS. NOW," she cried softly. "UH-AHHH-HERE COMES 
MORE." 

Stu was a stricken man, limp on top of her with his sperm backflowing out of 
her cunt and his body pleasure-soaked and euphoric from the great trip. 
Claire wanted more cunt action but knew she'd have to wait until one or the 
other of the lovers recovered. 

Afterwards, dressing, Shirley felt as if her body had been given the 
greatest massage in the world, inside and out. It had been her lucky day all 
right. It had been one of the best she'd ever lived. 

 Chapter Four 

It was a week later and Shirley felt pretty good. She hadn't gotten involved 
in any more sex because she'd had her period. That was a great relief to 
her. She could smile with relief now in thinking how hard she'd taken that 
intercourse with Joe Kellar, believing he'd impregnated her, but he hadn't. 
Nor had there been any ill effects from her dreamy, romantic time with the 
Oliphants. Well, she was on the pill now and her period was over-and she had 
a hundred and twenty dollars of escape money, yet the summer had hardly 
started. She was sure going to keep her eyes open for the judicious use of 
more sex. 

Actually it had all been fun, looking back, even when she was scared, like 
with Joe or the Oliphants before she got to know them. Too bad their's was a 
one night stand! 

One of Regency's radio cabs flagged her down. "You got a customer at the 
SILVER STREAK. Special request for you." 

She drove there with mixed feelings. It might be Irma, up to more mischief. 
She hadn't seen her friend much lately and feared that despite her promise 
to swear off being a housewife prostitute, her blonde friend might've been 
lured back again. She knew that Irma and her husband Frank fought a lot. 
Shirley's mother was a reliable reporter on that. 

"Something's gone wrong with that marriage, Shirl. There's big trouble, 
you'll see." 

Shirley devoutly wished that her mother would get that pharmacy job, or any 
job, because when Mom was home Shirley had to hear more about the neighbors 
than she cared to know. 

If it wasn't Irma sending in that special call from the bar it might be Joe 
and she certainly didn't want to see him. She feared him; he excited her too 
much physically ... 

When she got there it was neither Joe nor Irma. The bartender took her 
aside. 

"It's Frank, Irma Dawson's husband. He's had a few and he could make 
trouble. I figure you're the one who can quiet him and take him home." 

She was at the end of her shift. She'd worked overtime and it was after 
dark. She didn't look forward to driving Frank home, going all the way back 
to the Regency garage and driving home again. Nor for that matter handling 
Irma's upset husband. 

"Listen, Benny, I don't have to take drunks in my cab." 

"Oh, he isn't drunk. Just a little relaxed. He gets belligerent and he might 
try to pop somebody in the nose if he hangs around here. But he said he'd go 
home quiet if you'd come for him." 

Well, she owed it to the Dawsons' ... At that it took a while to coax Frank 
out of the booth. He was a big, dark-haired man a little older than Irma. He 
was one of those people who looked like they needed a shave five minutes 
after they shaved. It was his glowering features that made people think he 
was mean and sometimes she felt sorry for him. If he'd had a happy face like 
Stu Oliphant now, he might've led a different life. 

Frank Dawson seemed neither too drunk nor too mean to Shirley. He just 
seemed sad. He said that irma was supposed to meet him here a couple of 
hours before and he had to wait for her. 

"You'd best let me take you home, Frank," she said. "Shirley always makes it 
back-she'll call you there sooner than here." 

He grumbled a bit but let her lead him from the bar. Benny looked grateful. 
She guessed that Frank had, indeed, made some trouble there a couple of 
times, but it was no problem for her. She and Frank, if not close, had 
always gotten along. 

She drove him to the Regency Garage instead of home. That way she could 
finish the trip in her little Volkswagen; he'd pay only for part of the trip 
and she'd be home for the night. 

On the way in he complained to her about Irma. He was sure that his wife was 
having an affair. 

She'd once been a good wife to him, but here lately she'd taken to keeping 
strange hours and now that little Roy was off to summer camp, he was never 
sure where she was. Other little things proved to him she was unfaithful. 
And so on. And so on. 

Shirley listened with a half-sympathetic ear. She liked her blonde friend 
much better than Frank, but it was hard indeed on a guy like him who was a 
stick-in-the-mud, working at his civil service job, liking Chicago and his 
relatives and having no ambitions to greatly change his life. In this case, 
he'd be lucky if she was having only one affair. If she'd decided to sell 
sex, Frank was going to be cuckolded by a whole bunch of males, because Irma 
never did things halfway. 

Fortunately, in his fuzzy condition, he didn't cross-examine her. She 
wouldn't tell on the blonde, but he could ask questions that could trap Irma 
if Shirley even one-half answered them. 

At the garage she first shoved Frank into her Volks and then checked in and 
finished her day. The ride back home was comfortable. Frank's whisky breath 
in the small car was something else again on a warm June evening and his 
litany of marriage troubles did nothing to lift her spirits. At the 
apartment building, he asked her if she'd help him get up the stairs, 
because he felt a little dizzy. 

"Sure, Frank," she said, guiding him. "Here we go. Watch that first 
step-remember it's a high one." 

"You go first, Shirl. Then I can see in this damn dark." 

As usual the stairwell light was out and the landlord's man hadn't replaced 
it. It was almost nine o'clock, quite dark and she had to feel her way 
herself. She remembered reaching the first landing and that was the last 
thing she recalled for a while. All of a sudden there was a movement behind 
her and a great white light burst in her brain while she felt a searing 
flash of pain across her eyeballs... 

Shirley came to on a bed. It was strange and it was familiar at the same 
time. Her head ached and there was something wrong with her arms and legs. 
Woooiee-what had happened? The room was dark except for a night light and 
she spent several dazed minutes trying to wiggle her arms and her legs, 
trying to figure out where she was and trying to overcome the headache. 
Gradually things cleared. The pain in her head lessened. She discovered the 
reason she couldn't move her arms or legs was that-they were tightly tied 
with a cord! "Ohmigod," she gasped. 

She could sit up and that was about it. She sat up. Her head hurt. She laid 
down again. The exercise gave her one more shock-she was totally nude. She 
could stare down and see the gleaming expanse of her naked flesh in the dim 
light. What in the world- 

Frank! Frank Dawson! It came back to her in a rush. Picking him up, bringing 
him home, going up the dark stairs-then the pain in her head. She realized 
why the room, the bedroom, was both strange and familiar. It was Irma 
Dawson's bedroom, in the apartment next to her. Somehow Frank had flipped 
his lid, struck her, stripped her, tied her up and brought her here to 
Irma's bed. Oh-oh. The man had been a lot more troubled or drunk, or both, 
than he'd let on. 

The door opened and Frank himself came in, wearing only his shorts in the 
heat of the Chicago night. It was really spooky because, instead of turning 
on the lights, he carried a candle whose yellow flame lit his face from 
below and made his heavy jowls menacing indeed. 

"Frank-for God's sake!" she blurted. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his fingers over her lips. 

"Quiet, Shirl. You have to listen to me. I have a lot to say to you-" 

"Frank, dammit, what's this tying me up? Hitting me? Stripping me? If you 
think-" 

WHAP. 

He slapped her across the cheek and it really stung. She bit back any 
further words. She remembered a hundred stories of guys who were normal 
nine-to-five types until they got into some serious sex problems with their 
wives. Men who shot up their wives and families. Men who slit throats or 
bashed heads. He'd already struck her once and now a second time. His very 
manner, what he'd done to her, showed a man who was flaked out and it could 
be a lot more than a few drinks. He'd been fighting furiously with Irma. 
There might be hidden depths she'd never suspected in this quiet, stolid 
neighbor. 

"Are you ready to listen?" he asked. In the yellow candle light, the whites 
of his eyes showed, 

"I'll listen, Frank." Her voice was a whimper of fear now. 

"You've destroyed my marriage. I really love Irma, but since you and that 
stud husband of yours moved in a few years back, you've given me nothing but 
trouble. Your husband has fucked Irma, you must know that. They did it long 
before the divorce." 

In spite of her fear, his revelation shocked words out of her. 

"No! I don't believe it." 

He grinned a malicious grin. "You can believe it. I knew about it a long 
time ago. All your lousy Harold was good for was taking classes at Chicago 
U. and fucking. Irma wasn't the only one he had fun with, kid. You divorced 
him. You ought to know." 

"Nooo," she wailed. She feared he might possibly be right, now that she 
looked back on it. It had hovered on the edge of her mind lots of times, the 
way Harold's sex life with her had gone from bad to non-existent. 

"Frank, if you'll untie me and let me get dressed-" 

WHAP! 

She took it on the other cheek and decided she'd better shut up and listen 
to what Frank had to say. He said he could've fixed Harold any time, but he 
didn't because he was attracted to Shirley. 

"That ass-those legs-those tits-you're better than Irma in lots of ways," he 
said. "I figured if he tossed my wife, I'd grab his wife one of these times 
and toss her. What could he say? But you divorced him before I got around to 
it." 

As if her opinion didn't count! But she kept silent. He went on to say that 
after Harold left the scene Irma settled down, so he didn't worry too much. 
Here lately she'd begun to play around again. 

"I told her I'd nail her good, Shirl. I'd break all of her teeth. She told 
me it was your fault. You got yourself mixed up with some guy named Joe and 
he was too rough and she had to help you out. Then you got the bright idea 
of her selling-her selling-" His voice choked. "You're always bitching about 
being poor. Everybody's heard you whine about that. So you wanted her to be 
your whore where you could bring the taxi customers-" 

His face got even darker. "I could kill you for that, Shirley. Tempting 
Irma. She has that wild side. But you-with that nice mother and nice 
kids-talking my wife into whoring. You know she has a weak personality. She 
feels sorry for you-needing money. She's with a guy RIGHT NOW, Shirl. IT'S 
ALL YOUR FAULT!" 

He was really angry and she felt really scared. Irma had sold Frank a bill 
of goods all right. She understood that when Frank got violent Irma would 
lie-but this was too much. It was like the scene in the taxi all over again, 
when Irma got Joe Kellar all excited and then escaped when he leaned on her, 
leaving Shirley to clean up the mess. 

"Frank-you have to listen. There's my side. Irma hasn't told you the truth!" 

He shook his head. He set down the candle on the table next to the bed, so 
that it cast a cave-like golden light over the scene. 

"It doesn't matter, Shirl." His voice was intense. 

He'd worked himself up to some point, but it wasn't wholly anger. He pushed 
her down and got on top of her naked body on the bed. Immediately she felt 
his powerful erection through his shorts, as he laid on her and held her 
head tight. He began to kiss her forcefully, locking her head, sucking off 
wet kisses on her lips. His strength was so great that he began to force his 
big, wet tongue inside of her mouth. She had to gasp at his intense desire. 

"Ah, Frank, oh, Frank, stop!" she managed between kisses. "You can't do 
this-it's rape-I'll send you to prison!" 

It was a wild scene. Tied up, she could not escape him or use her arms to 
defend herself. She felt dark thrills at her dangerous situation. She was 
totally at his mercy. Frank was big and beefy, but not fat. He was powerful. 
The room filled with the sound of his wet kisses, while she felt his big 
cock pressing on her belly. The only reason he couldn't put it inside of her 
was that her legs were tied together. She felt dark thrills at this 
unwelcome assault. After a few minutes she had to submit to his kisses 
because she was helpless and feared that he might do worse things if she 
tried to bite him. At that he sucked her tongue right out of her mouth into 
his own and chewed on it until it was numb, while he murmured his intensity. 
That was the problem with males; when they turned on as hot and crazed as 
this one, there wasn't much you could do. Her heart pumped and her juices 
flowed. This took the prize of all the kinky things that had happened to 
her. 

He moved down to her breasts. That turned some of the fright excitement into 
sex excitement, because her nipples were really sensitive to male hands 
stroking and male lips kissing. She had to utter a few cries of wanton 
pleasure. Anyone would've raised that response; her breasts were made for 
love and her skin was doubly hot and sensitive from being tied up like this. 

"Frank! Frank!" she moaned. 

"Beginning to like it, huh, Shirl? I always thought you were a hot bitch, 
but it takes a strong man to handle you. Well, you'll get it tonight! You 
won't scream either. Know why?" 

"Frank-" 

"The closest people to this apartment-that's your mother and your kids. 
They'll think it's me and I rma fighting. Or else if she knocks on the 
door-I'll tell her you like to be tied up and fucked. I'll tell her we've 
done it lots of times. That would half kill your mom. No, you won't scream." 

He was right about that. She'd rather die than have her mother see her like 
this ... He sat up now and ran a hand down her smooth, nude belly. He found 
her pelvic ridge and drove a long finger curling down and inside of her 
hole. She had already creamed a little; it was impossible not to with all 
that kissing and breast fondling. 

"UGH, OHHH," she gasped as that imperative finger dug steadily into her cunt 
and found her clit. He rode it with great skill, not too hard, sending 
flashes of sexuality up her belly. With her hotness due to being helplessly 
tied, she felt deep shocks of desire begin to rise. 

"OH, PLEASE, FRANK. PUH-LEASE. I-I'LL-SUCK YOU IF YOU HAVE TO HAVE IT." 

He laughed. "The slave tells the master what to do? You must think I'm a 
turkey, Shirl. I'm no turkey; you'll find that out." 

"I'll kill you?" she said in sudden rage. "I'll have you arrested tomorrow 
and thrown in jail. I've got friends who drive taxis. They'll beat the crap 
out of you. I swear-ahhh, uhhh." 

His finger was too much. She had to lift her loins and take her forced 
masturbation, her anger adding to the physical excitement. 

He chuckled: "Listen, dear girl, I'm a county employee with plenty of clout. 
Nobody will ever believe you. I'm good, gray Frank Dawson who never fools 
around, never gets out of line. Never raises his voice, treats his family 
great, puts up with a loose wife. I'm a community pillar, girl. You-your're 
a divorced woman who drives a cab-one of those wild feminist types. You go 
around wearing shorts and no bra over those big tits, showing it off. I'll 
tell 'em you like to be tied up and screwed, that you begged me for it when 
my wife and kid were away. Me-that's who they'll believe." 

He was probably right about that and if I rma got into the act it would be 
even worse. Irma would say anything to placate Frank. Frank's kinkiness had 
been well-hidden. 

"Baby, you look so great ... " His voice was thick now with sexual tension. 
"All tied up ... writhing ... sweating ... your body all gold and sexy ... 
having to take my finger." 

He really reached her now. It was as if her whole body was attached to his 
finger and as he stroked inside of her she had to lift her butt, fuck on it, 
and make animal grunting sounds. It w; humiliating, but her heavy duty sex 
network could not be stopped once the stimulus was applied, Meanwhile, he 
jacked himself off, hot eyes riveted on her sweating, helpless body. 

"OH, FRANK," she begged, "YOU-YOU-GOING TO M-M-MAKE MEEE." 

"You know it, baby." His eyes were on fire as he watched her undulate and 
surge to her masturbation. 

There was nothing she could do about it. Soon she found herself in constant 
motion, heels dug into the bed, loins lifted, legs spread so she could get 
them to service that devil finger that set her insides on fire. She had to 
grunt and whimper and gasp like a silly beast to this strange ride, waves of 
deep pleasure washing up her body. 

"OH, FRANK, OHHHHHH," she complained. 

He had two fingers inside of her cunt next, crooning his own pleasure as he 
jacked himself off. 

"YOUR CUNT-LIKE LIVING VELVET INSIDE, ALL CREAMY, TIGHT, SEXXXY," he said. 
"We'll make a night of it." 

"UH-HUH, UH-HUH, UH-HUH," she had to go, not in agreement, but in the sweet 
distress of rising to her orgasmic glory. In a wild way this supposedly 
mild-mannered man controlled her as if she were a helpless sex slave. She 
took a deep breath and began to rise to her orgasm of total surrender. He 
stopped then. 

As she sank back on the bed, sighing, both relieved and annoyed with the 
pressure gone from her clit, he mounted her bound body. The candle light 
made his big frame look like bronze, very evil yet tremendously sexual. 

She almost fainted. She dug her heels into the bed once more, gave a 
horrified gasp and lifted up to his fingers to an exquisite freeze. She came 
for him like a wild tigress at bay. 

"OHHH, NOOO. AH, AH, AH," she whimpered. 

Her cunt squeezed and throbbed in luscious, full spasms as she paid off to 
this deliberate, almost delicate possession of her flesh by that velvet 
jissum. She shivered, jerked and surrendered with delicious shocks and 
contractions of her finger-filled cunt, giving him her sexuality as deeply 
and surely as if he'd mastered her cunt with his rock hard cock. It was a 
long orgasm, wild and relieving. After the crazy moments of supreme ecstasy, 
she fell back with an exasperated laugh. 

"You-sure have a-different way of making love, Frank." 

"But I'm faithful, even if Irma isn't," he said. "I've never really fucked 
another woman." He chuckled. "Most people don't have much imagination about 
sex." 

He went and got a small box from somewhere. He took out some objects and 
held them up for her to see. They were women's panties, mostly bikinis, 
mostly flamboyant and sexy, like hookers might. 

"Every woman I've had sex with-something different. I always take their 
panties as a souvenir, I've got yours from tonight-you won't get 'em back." 

"Frank-you're a real stud!" 

He chuckled. "Good old gray Frank has his secrets. I buy women. It's safer 
that way. You see, I had an uncle die and I got a couple thousand dollars 
from his estate. Irma doesn't know about that money. Fun money for me. Screw 
her!" 

He held up a fat roll of bills and dropped it back in the box. 

He went on: "Sometimes I let 'em suck me-that's not really fucking. If they 
have long hair, I like to masturbate in the soft tresses, because it really 
feels great.. Once I held my prick a half inch in front of a hooker's cunt 
and let it go, almost touching, holding her lips open. Hookers don't usually 
cum but that one came like crazy. If they've got breasts, you can grease the 
hollow between 'em and gun off so the stuff shoots onto their throats and 
bounces back from the soft underside of the chin," 

Frank was a turkey all right. A wild turkey. But still he was afraid of sex. 
He was afraid, she thought, to put that short, fat but virile cock into a 
woman's body. 

"All right, Frank," she said. "You had your fun with me. Now untie me and 
let me go home." 

He shook his head, chuckling. "You owe me more than one quick throw, baby. 
I've got a new one to try on you. It's early yet." 

She wailed in distress, but had to lie there, bound, for the next half hour 
while he got his sex drive back ... 

When he came back in the bedroom to have further sex with her, lie carried a 
large jar of Vaseline and a small vibrator. It was the smallest she'd ever 
seen, only about four inches long and very slim. She eyed the objects 
warily. 

"Now, Frank, I won't let you do anything crazy to me." The secret was to 
humor him through one more thing, because his one sex throw had mellowed him 
quite a lot. "Oh, you'll like this," he said. He greased the vibrator 
carefully and then worked it against her cunt, gradually inserting it into 
her body as her vagina creamed and swelled. It was amazing how that very 
small object could feel so big. It was the humming, buzzing energy of 
it-especially when he worked it completely inside of her. 

She strained helplessly against her bonds. "OH, FRANK, DON'T LEAVE IT INSIDE 
LIKE THAT. OHHH." 

She had to writhe once more and had begun to sweat. The sweet, vicious 
little plastic prick thrilled and scared her, completely sealed inside of 
her slickly right over her asshole. She jumped a foot as protective nerves 
flashed. 

"AH, UH, DON'T!" she called out in fright and irritation. 

"Absolutely the finest butt in Chicago," he said. "Full creamy mounds, sexy, 
dark crack, human and girlish. I love that red seam-those furrows of 
hair-and what do I see here? A bump, a corrugation, a stitch-pucker." He 
rocked his finger right on her asshole. "YEEEEEE," she went. 

Between the pressure of his finger on that tender spot and the action of the 
vibrator in her cunt she was getting wild. The hot rushes were taking her 
right up to glory. He mounted her hips. He was naked and his fat cock was 
rock hard again. He slit it into her crack. He did not try to breach her 
asshole. Instead, he made a tunnel for his prick along her seam. He put a 
hand on the sweet hollows of space behind her hip bones and pressed her 
buttocks tightly together around his rod. He now had a hot, greased cave in 
which to ride. He began to fuck up and down along her furrow. 

"SOOO SEXXXY," he panted. The sensations for her were fantastic. There was 
the fear-excitement of that dangerous ramrod riding slickly right over her 
tender rear hole, thrilling her. There was the vibrator going like crazy 
inside her swollen vagina. There was the added pressure of his weight on her 
hips, making vagina ... He turned her body over so that she was face down on 
the bed. He began to pat her buttocks. 

"I've only done this once before," he said. "A woman has to have a sexy ass 
for this trip. You really have a perfect ass, Shirl." 

"OH, IVIOOO." 

She had to wiggle and strain with that nasty, sexy little vibrator buzzing 
along completely inside of her body. 

"I think-I want you to-take it out," she wailed. It was bad enough to lie 
there helpless with that device buzzing inside of her as her belly pressed 
to the bed, let alone thinking about him fooling with her behind. 

"Shirl, if you could only see your buttocks. The way you shift and shake and 
quiver. God, that's sexy." 

"AHHH," she went. 

He began to kiss her smooth buttock cheeks then, squeezing and stroking her 
flesh and nibbling at her meat. The vibrator had already made her indulge in 
constant, itching movements and he seemed to relish the play of her ass as 
she kept tensing her muscles and making erratic and erotic movements. 

He dug his hands into her crack now, carefully greasing the side walls with 
the Vaseline as he'd done with the vibrator. She felt his warm fingers run 
deeper and deeper and finally they rode the vibrator more persistent. There 
was the stimulating rock of a hot hard cock along her seam. Her belly burned 
with ecstatic, incredible rushes of pleasure. 

She blurted out: "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," her tied hands pressing into his front, 
from their position in the small of her back. 

"GO, BITCH!" he sang. "UH, UH, UH." Human flesh could not stand much of this 
heavy stimulation. She began to grunt and keen. 

"OH, I'VE GOT TO-I HAVE TO GOOO. AH, MEEE." 

"GIVE IT UP. GIVE IT UP," he grunted, panting in his own ecstatic pleasure. 

She had to. She traveled right up to a majestic body freeze with a soft cry 
of exploding pleasure. 

"AHHH-YEEEEEE!" 

She jerked under him while he held her tight and their naked bodies 
plastered together, his fronton her back. With superhuman power she lifted 
his weight and hers off the bed an inch, to orgasm. 

"NOWWWWWW!" 

It was too much for him. As she began to throb in wild pleasure, slobbering 
into the pillow, he pulled his Vaseline-smeared prick out of her crack, He 
peeled open her buttocks. He found the cross-stitch of her pucker. He 
pressed the oiled, gleaming cockhead tight to it. It gave off throbs just as 
her cunt did, as she came. 

He violated her asshole with a ripe sound like a knife cutting a cantaloupe. 
His cock breached her sphincter and the head plus another inch passed into 
her body, into her hot pink tenderness. 

"OH, NOOO!" he cried in horror. 

But there was no escape from the iron law of man seeding inside a woman's 
body. His eyes bugged, the veins standing out prominently on his forehead. 
But he had to burst inside of her asshole. He shot off stinging shorts of 
sperm in her body, hot guts, shuddering and gasping in horror and pleasure. 

"AH, WOW-GOT TOOOOOO," he whined. 

She felt it. Right in the middle of her magnificent spasms of sex surrender 
and death, she felt her asshole pierced and then the rinsing, hot gushes of 
a hotly exploding male bursting inside of her. It crazed her further and she 
sucked his prick in a little deeper, while her sphincter throbbed around his 
shaft to excite hot squirts up her tail. 

Keening and gasping, they both rode off the orgasms with full glory, not 
caring at the moment how it came about. As they tapered, he fell off to one 
side, still holding her hip and pressing his cock into her intestine to 
savor her body hot inner passage and the warm feel of the silken sperm he'd 
ejaculated into her. 

"Ahhh, Shirl-you made me-do it-inside," he complained testily. 

She laid there for a while, too exhausted to speak, enjoying the afterglow 
of sex. She felt his prick soften and slide out of her body, leaving its 
full charge behind. She rolled away from him. Her tormentor, the small 
vibrator, slid out of her cunt, batteries dead, also spent. 

He was asleep! Just like that. The tension on the man must've been terrific, 
girding himself up to this fantastic attack on her, trying her, teasing her 
and running off two orgasms. His breathing was regular, his face peaceful. 
He'd really blown all fuses on that last orgasm, reluctantly taken inside of 
her body. 

"No more games about fucking-not fucking, I'll bet," she muttered. "From now 
on I'll bet you go for the hole like everybody else." 

She tested her arms and found to her delight that all of the action had 
loosened her wrists. Minutes later she stood free at the side of Irma's bed, 
staring down on the naked, sleeping man. What a nut! 

She grabbed her clothes and dressed, not bothering to look for her panties 
that seemed to be missing. She kept an eye on him, but so far he slept on. 
She went into the kitchen and found one of those wooden mallets Irma used to 
pound meat with. She was furious about his treatment of her and was going to 
put him to sleep the hard way for the rest of the night. Back in the 
bedroom, she stood over him and raised the mallet. He looked like a thug 
with that heavy beard, but his face had an innocent child-like smile on it. 

Suddenly she chuckled. There at the foot of the bed was his sex box with all 
those panties in it and his money. She took two hundred dollars off his 
roll. After all, she'd performed way above the usual call of duty, what with 
the tying up. She found her panties and held them up, but after a moment she 
dropped them back in his box. He'd bought and paid for his souvenir of 
tonight, she thought with a grin and paid for all the rest of her troubles 
with him. When you came down to it, she was going home with a pleasant glow 
in her body, despite his attacks on her. 

 Chapter Five 

If it had not been for her mother's wild anxiety, Shirley would have 
side-stepped Irma's crazy scheme. But her mother was really upset. Doris, in 
Miami, had called to report that her marriage was about to go on the rocks. 

"You know what that means," said Mom. "It means two things. A fine couple's 
breaking up-but I could save it if I were down there. I really could. Ed 
always listens to me. In a week I could set that marriage back on the right 
track." 

"I know you could. Mom. Doris gets these wild spells." 

"Second, if Doris divorces, we'll never make it to Miami this winter. We 
need a base down there. You know what your sister will do. She'll fly right 
back home to mama. So next winter instead of you, me and the kids playing on 
the warm sands, we'll be shivering in this apartment, with Doris sleeping on 
the daybed and shivering with us." 

"I know. Mom. But I've only got three hundred and twenty dollars in 
savings." 

"It's not enough. I need more than airfare and a few dollars over. I need at 
least eight hundred-and I need to go NOW." 

There it was again, that old grind of poverty. You never had enough to do 
what had to be done at the right time. It was savage. She'd already had to 
lie to Mom about that extra money. Even so, she sure couldn't get five 
hundred more inside of a week. Things were in the doldrums. She just hadn't 
had any fares where she could pick up some extras-and now it was too late 
even to go out and sell herself on the streets. Which she could never do 
anyway. 

She drove her shift glumly that day. She got some of those horrible fares 
that all drivers hated-older women calling a taxi to bring home 
groceries-and tipping a quarter or fifty cents. She got a tight-fisted 
financial type who took a run to State Street and didn't tip much better. 
She got a happy, lovable drunk who turned out to be flat broke and who gave 
her a check that she knew would bounce. She got an arguing couple who took 
out their rage on her with a miniature tip. Toward the end of the shift she 
drifted over to the SILVER STREAK to sip a Coke against the hot weather and 
hope that a break would change things. 

Irma nailed her as soon as she got into the cool, air-conditioned interior. 
Irma was really excited. 

"We've got a real sucker-take him for plenty-a perfect set-up and it won't 
take long, either. No way we can get caught-and it pays each of us five 
hundred dollars." 

"Whoa, wait, hah! Slow down, Irma What's this all about?" 

Giggling, Irma pulled her to one of the booths in the rear. 

"You remember that guy I screwed once at Joe's place, Syd, something or 
other." 

Shirley clearly remembered the one-way mirror, How could she ever forget the 
sexy sight of the naked Irma, belly high, taking that guy's stiff prick. It 
was an erotic sight she'd cherish forever. Irma went on, bubbling with 
excitement, to say that Syd wanted to set himself up with a couple of 
hookers in Chicago. He lived in New York but made lots of trips here. He 
figured it would be a terrific investment-Shirley slapped her forehead. "Oh, 
no, Irma. That means Joe Kellar again." 

"Right. He's got it all worked out. The union fired him-he's only got a week 
left on the job. A week more after today to live in that apartment. He's 
practically broke, but he figures Syd will give him a stake." 

"I know I'm going to hate it-but go on." 

"Syd doesn't know Joe's out with the union. He comes to town day after 
tomorrow. Joe's already talked to him about setting up a couple of girls and 
splitting the profits-plus Syd has play chicks when he comes to town. Joe 
tells Syd he needs two thousand dollars to set up a couple of girls in that 
apartment. Then Joe goes to one of those places and gets a lot of sexy 
clothes, hooker stuff, hot stuff, like Fredericks' out west sells." 

"And," said Shirley, "Syd comes to town, sees you and me and all the fancy 
sex clothes and forks over the two grand. Well, for one thing I don't want 
to screw Syd-" 

"Oh, I'll do that. One time more won't hurt," laughed Irma. "The point is, 
Syd never stays more than a day and a half. He forks over the money, screws 
me and leaves town. Joe returns the clothes which he got on consignment. He 
takes one thousand and heads West. You and me split the other thousand-" 

"And then one day Syd hires my cab and i get my face pushed in," said 
Shirley. 

"No chance of that, dear. Syd, the tightwad, never takes cabs. Always the 
bus for that boy. The elevated. You'll never run into him. We'll never go 
back to Joe's apartment so-" 

"I thought Joe and Syd were buddies." 

"They are, Shirley, but we're poor and desperate and Syd's well off. He 
cheats his partner like mad. He chisels on his customers, too, Joe says. He 
owes the world one rough ride, Joe thinks." 

"I don't trust that Joe." 

"He knows it. He'll sign a paper, anything. Honest, you don't have to do a 
thing, just pretend you'll work with me, model a few clothes for an hour and 
take off. Joe and I do the rest. Joe's got to have that thousand for a 
stake-he'll play honest." 

Five hundred dollars! Day after tomorrow! That along with the three hundred 
plus, Shirley could put Mom in Miami by Saturday. And save Doris. And have a 
base down there this fall. And have the rest of the summer to pull together 
the money to move her and the kids. She'd lose her daytime babysitter, but 
could get teeners out of school for the summer for cheaper than it cost to 
suport Mom without a job. It was a fighting chance. In fact, it was 
beautiful; a harmless con on a guy who probably deserved much worse ... 

By the time Shirley finished her shift she knew she was going to do it ... 

Clothes. Clothes such as Shirley had never seen before. She'd seen pictures, 
of course, in the back of women's magazines, but never the real thing. Joe 
had a pile in his apartment when she got there around noon on the target 
day. She'd taken off sick from work. Now she, Joe and Irma were going over 
the stuff while they waited for Syd. "Look at this-" 

"Hey, can you believe this one-" 

Even Joe was excited to see all the sexy things the store had sent. There 
were pajamas so gossamer they could've been spun by spiders. There were bras 
with cut-outs to expose the centers of the breasts. There were slacks and 
panties with panels to expose a woman's pubic hair and box while covering 
her belly-or to reveal the sweet curves of her bare behind without taking 
off a thing. There were low cuts that exposed navels. There were shorties 
that did not really cover lower bellies and bottoms. There were bold colors, 
both warm reds and oranges and cool blues and startling greens. There were 
subdued pastels that still gleamed with sexy metallic flecks. There was wet 
leather, with boots, a terrific S-M outfit. There was a clinging, metallic 
silver jumpsuit with a zipper that a child could work down the front in two 
seconds. There were gorgeous satins that gleamed with sexy glamor. There 
were nude body stockings, tank tops and sheer hose that would sell even an 
ugly woman. There were one piece swim suits with a zipper between the legs 
so that a girl could be screwed without taking it off. There was a filmy 
robe trimmed in fur-there were old-fashioned miniskirts, sequins-bodices- 

"Hey," laughed Shirley, "there's only supposed to be two of us." 

"Syd will be impressed," said Joe. "That's the name of a con. When he 
flashes on this load of stuff it'll look like we plan to stay in business 
for a long time." 

"So what's the plan of action?" asked Shirley. 

Joe suggested that the girls avoid appearing naked and use up a lot of time 
showing off the stuff. If they could stimulate Syd to the sizzling point, 
he'd be crazy to hand over the money-which Joe insisted on having in cash. 

"Then Irma takes him to the bedroom and you split," said Joe. "You've got 
your dough and you never, never come back." 

"I'd better not," smiled Shirley, holding up a tan jumpsuit with breast 
cutouts. "A couple of hours around this stuff and I'll probably seriously 
take up hooking." 

"Here comes Syd," cried Irma "Walking over from the bus." She winked at 
Shirley. 

"Live it for an hour," said Joe. "Believe it for an hour, Shirl." 

Syd Wyman was not Jewish and did not work in the garment industry, as Joe 
thought. His real name was Ted Granger and his real job was to recruit young 
girls for prostitution. The supposed garment industry job was a cover to put 
him in touch with young girls, clerks and models, mostly, but he had 
discovered that all women loved clothes, so he had an excuse to talk to any 
of them. He did sell a few clothes that he bought in New York and peddled on 
his trips. His supposed partner was non-existent. He did not work for any 
criminal organization, although he sometimes faked that, too. He was a loner 
who had discovered that a certain percentage of attractive women would sell 
sex for money, for excitement, for their own lustful enjoyment. He was a 
genius at avoiding the sickies who had personal problems in depth, because 
they did not make good hookers in the long run, popular psychology to the 
contrary. 

It had been easier in the late sixties and early seventies when young girls 
flocked to large cities to escape supposed stifling parents. In the late, 
sedate seventies this supply had dried up-the younger generation was more 
sedate. He'd improved his methods, too. These days he looked only for what 
he called star quality. 

Shirley Singleton had that star quality. When Joe had fucked her after Ted 
had finished with the blonde that day, he'd really turned on to her, 
watching her actions through the one-way glass. Shirley had not known that 
both bedrooms had viewports so that the action in either room could be 
watched. Ever since then Ted had been crazy to get at this particular 
female. She had a fabulous body and a heavy duty erotic system. Once she 
cast off society's repressions she would be able to please lots of men. 

"Every woman rightly suspects she has a whore in her," Ted once told one of 
his local clients. "Just like every man is a potential John who'll buy sex 
under the right conditions. The true sex lovers only need a strong push-a 
couple of weeks of action. No, I Jon't feel bad about signing those females 
up. They'll do it for nothing, sooner or later. So I help them make some 
bread, their 'managers' make some bread and the Johns have a lot of fun. I 
do useful work, my friend." 

The problem with girls like Shirley was to get 'em to realize their true 
nature. This was where it sometimes got rough. He knew he'd have to send 
Shirley out of town, to Des Moines, Denver, or New Orleans. He knew nothing 
of her background-not even her last name. He preferred not to know. He 
carried a small vial of chloral hydrate in his coat pocket as he walked 
through the private entrance of Joe's apartment Those "knockout drops" were 
effective but harmless. He would leave today with Shirley and she'd be seen 
in Chicago no more. The blonde, Irma, was okay, too. She was hot enough and 
willing enough, but Joe hinted that her husband worked for the county. She 
was a much greater risk than a loner cab driver. No, Shirley was the one to 
take .. 

Joe broke out a bottle of wine and the two men sat on the elegant, 
overstuffed sofa under the grandfather clock to watch the show. Irma emerged 
first from the bedroom, wearing a pale blue nylon swim suit and white 
booties. There was a prominent zipper running from the neck to her crotch. 
She modeled for them, moving in time to ballad music from Joe's stereo. It 
was sensual and Ted felt his cock begin to rise, looking at that slim, 
curvaceous body in the provocative nylon. She was a neat turn-on. She ended 
by standing in front of them, arms held wide. 

Ted rose and gave his approval by unzipping her costume and kissing the 
soft, supple flesh from her throat to her belly. She gave her a hug, too, 
and she retired, leaving both men with hard standers. 

Shirley followed in a one piece jumpsuit of very soft, elegant stretch 
material that really clutched her voluptuous charms. To further titillate 
the boys, the outfit had two see through lace panels over the breasts to 
reveal smooth, firm flesh and pink, erect nipples. Like Irma she wore 
low-cut boots. The pull of the cloth over her fabulous pelvis to suggest her 
womanhood and the rich, dainty creases of her rear were enough to make Ted 
feel fiery desire. What a prize this dark-haired girl was! Incredible. 

Shirley felt sexed up, too. She could see those hard cock lumps in the 
trousers of the men and almost wished she could stay for the finish of the 
party. Ted released his cock from his pants before he kissed her at the end 
of her turn and he left a stain of pre-seminal fluid, a dark spot, on the 
soft material over her belly. Joe also slid out his cock. It was too painful 
to sit there with such hard-ons. He was already high and secretly decided 
that Shirley would not get away unfucked today. It shouldn't be too hard. As 
she left the room, there was a dark girl stain on the tight crotch material 
pulling against her cunt. 

Irma wore a gossamer see-through robe on her next appearance, plus a 
peach-colored pair of nylon panties. There was fur at the neck and wrists, 
but only the filmiest of covering over her Perky, upthrust young breasts. 
Ted not only kissed and hugged her, but ate her nipples right through the 
negligee, making her moan. At his turn, Joe felt 

between her legs and jogged her cunt, hot and steaming in the bikini 
panties. 

"Come on, you guys," gasped Irma. "We've got a ton of clothes to show." 

"We need more action," Joe protested. "Or we'll both blow our fuses," 
laughed Ted. Shirley appeared wearing a satin sheath, with a slit up one 
thigh almost to the hip bone. The way the material clung and caressed her 
charms made both men fondle themselves. Ted kissed her and jacked off 
against the satin that covered her belly, savoring the feel of the slick 
material sliding over her warm flesh. He dug lascivious hands into the 
richness of her buttocks. 

"You guys-a couple of animals," she gasped as Joe spun her away from the 
eager Ted. 

Joe went even further, reaching through the slit to feel up her cunt and 
finger her wet lips. They clung to each other, kissing and moaning, cock 
digging into her satin belly, finger digging into her swollen cunt. 

"Break it off!" yelled Ted. "We gotta change the rules or the party's over 
in ten minutes." 

After that they worked out a sexy ritual that was wild for the men and 
exciting for the girls, too. The men were not permitted to rise from the 
sofa or kiss the women. However, after displaying each outfit, the girls 
knelt in front of each man, took the stiff prick into her mouth and gave six 
lusty sucks before moving on. It was absolutely incredible. After six 
costume changes, the men were dazed, their back teeth floating from the hot 
torture of unspent jissum in their sex parts. 

Back in the bedroom, Shirley gripped Irma's soft shoulders. 

"The next time out, they're both gonna throw juice, you know that." 

"Yes," laughed Irma. "I don't mind. I'm hot enough to drink anything. Which 
do you want?" 

"I'll take Syd," Shirley said. In truth, he was the lesser of two evils; Joe 
made her too hot. It was more than sex with him. 

This time both girls emerged from the bedroom at once, stripped for action. 
Up above they wore-nothing. Smooth, bare shoulders, firm but quivering tits 
and soft, nude torsos-that was the sight the men saw. Irma wore her boots 
and the black wet leather pants, emphasizing her blonde good looks. Shirley 
was her color opposite, wearing the silver metallic pants to emphasize her 
dark good looks. The two women advanced on the men. 

"Oh-oh," said Joe. "I think it's payday." 

"Man, it better be, or I'll get it all over your sofa." 

Shirley advanced on Joe and Irma advanced on Ted. It was amusing to see 
Joe's delight and the Other man's disappointment. They both wanted Shirley. 
At that last second the girls crossed over, Irma switching to Joe and 
Shirley moving in front of Ted. The men cried out in surprise, the girls 
laughed, but there was no time to embarrass Irma by conversation. The girls 
knelt and began to suck cocks noisily, Shirley eating Ted and Irma eating 
Joe. 

As Joe bent over Irma and fucked his cock up into her mouth, his hands moved 
down her smooth back and around under to feel up her warm, hard-nippled tits 
and he didn't really care; that hot, sucking mouth felt fabulous. 

"BABY, YOU GOT TO T-T-TAKE A LOAD," he cried. 

"MMMMMMM," went Irma Ted felt his prick and his whole body swell in pleasure 
as he felt the velvet heat of Shirley's mouth on his shaft, heard the 
obscene suck sounds and savored the sweet friction. His sperm was going to 
burn right through her mouth and throat. 

"AHHH, MEEEEEE," he sang. He got his hands on those gorgeous, full breasts, 
felt his body lock in exquisite pleasure and began to throb off hot darts of 
squirting juice which Shirley sucked down. Joe surged up, digging his 
thrilled rod into Irma's mouth and burst at the same time. The room filled 
with the sounds of the men's gasps, grunts, sighs and the purring throat 
sounds of the women as they drank off the exploding cocks. Ted could never 
remember such a fantastic throw in oral sex; it felt like it had shot up 
from his very toes and like the voluptuous girl had sucked all his guts out. 
With his hands on those terrific tits, he lived in complete heaven. Maybe 
he'd travel around the country with her when he'd broken her into her new 
sexual life. 

At last the men tapered and sat back on the sofa satisfied, the itchy, eager 
desire to throw semen replaced by a soft, euphoric glow of males relaxed 
after sex. 

"That's fine for you two," said Shirley, rising feeling the hot burn of 
Syd's sperm in her throat and the salty, strarch-like coating in her mouth 
"That leaves us high." 

"Oh, laughed Irma, "we'll make them suck us. Turnabout is fair play." 

"No need for that," said Shirley. "They're not hot now. We are." 

She grabbed Irma. Ever since that night with Frank, Irma's husband, she'd 
felt a little strange being around her blonde friend, but Irma hadn't caught 
on, nor had Frank bothered Shirley since That had been a stand-off-he'd 
humiliated he with his ropes and kinky sex, but she'd made him Pay richly 
for it. At this moment, with her lust up Shirley wanted to get back to her 
old, easy feeling with her friend. 

She folded the smaller woman into her arms. She caught Irma's head and held 
it still while she rained teasing kisses on those soft petal lips. 

"Way to go!" cheered Joe. 

"FUCK HER! DO HER!" cried Ted. He was delighted to see how lustful Shirley 
really was. If she could even fondle women, that made her even more valuable 
in the trade. 

"SHIRL!" gasped Irma. "WHAT ARE YOU DO-MMMMMM." 

Irma should not have opened her mouth while Shirley kissed her. Shirley 
plunged a questing tongue between Irma's lips and explored Irma's mouth, 
hugging the slim, sexy blonde to her. Claire Oliphant had ended her fear of 
touching hot, female flesh. In her passionate state, Irma's half-nude body 
looked almost as good to her as a man's. Her cunt burned and itched, her 
body hot with craving sensual need. 

Shirley sucked the other's honey saliva and chased Irma's tongue around in 
her mouth with her own lustful organ, making pleased sounds at Irma's shock 
and resistance. 

"OH, MY GOD!" cried Irma breaking loose. "THAT'S LESBIAN!" 

"Tell me about it," laughed Shirley. She bent and began to eat Irma's 
nipple, feeling the hot girl jump and surge in her arms. 

"AH, NOOO, NOOO," cried Irma, trying to escape the sweet pressure on her 
breast. 

The men rocked with robust laughter. Then Ted jumped up, putting away his 
cock. "I think Shirley needs help." 

"With you," said Joe. 

The two men caught Irma and laid her back on the sofa while she wriggled and 
fought. Shirley broke the belt at her waist and took her wet leather pants 
down. She skinned out of her own while the two men held the helpless blonde. 

"Oh, Shirley, Joe-Syd-don't do this. Listen I know you're kidding, but it 
could be serious Listen, I'm too hot to do this may-may-come-" 

"Oh, come on, Irma," said Shirley with mock seriousness. "You like sex too 
much to care whose mouth eats your pretty little snatch." 

It was a beautiful sight to see the naked blonde held by the two men with 
her legs wide apart, her pink slash totally open and defenseless to Shirley. 

"I always thought you were a sexy little biitch," Shirley teased. "Now I'm 
going to savor your flavor and see if I can discover your secret." 

"NO, NO, OH, NOOO, SHIRL. NOT EVEN KIDDING. OH, NO!" 

Irma surged up in horror, clenching her buttocks and .staring in big-eyed 
horror between her legs Shirley's head went between her thighs. Shirley's 
lips sucked on her cunt. Shirley's tongue gouged into her wet, sexed-up 
tissues and found her clit 

"Oh, Joe, don't let her dee-do it!" cried Irma teeth chattering. 

"I think it's sexy," said Joe. 

"Take it, kid," Ted advised her. "You must really want a girl suck, the way 
you fight it so hard." 

"OH, NO, NO. OHHH, MEEE." whined Irma Her head went back, her graceful 
throat an arch. Her eyes closed. Instead of fighting further, she began to 
undulate her loins on Shirley's hot tongue, moaning softly. It was as if she 
had to close her eyes and not look at what her traitorous belly did. 

"Let her go," said Shirley softly. 

She recognized the surprising fact that she turned on Irma, at least her 
body did and Irma had secret, shameful thoughts about being girl-fucked. 
There was no mistaking the hot urgency of that cunt pressing, wetting, 
tossing on her tongue. Irma was crazy to give up her womanhood to Shirley 
now that it was out in the open. 

The men released Irma to watch, fascinated. Irma clutched her breasts, 
kneading them and working her loins in Shirley's hot clutch. 

"HA! OH, THAT FEELS SOOO GOOD, SHIRL. HA! HA! OHHHHHH." 

"Look at her coil, like a sexed up snake," whispered Joe. 

"She wants it like crazy," nodded Ted. 

Shirley was surprised to find this lesbian streak in her girl friend, but 
was too hot to stop and consider the philosophy of it. She swung her body 
around, opening her legs and catching the blonde's head between them. She 
scissored and that brought them into a delicious sixty-nine with each girl's 
head to the cunt of the other. 

"EAT ME," she instructed Irma and wer busily back to her delicious feast of 
Irma's cun She gently teased the soft tissue in which the cl was imbedded, 
inhaled Irma's warm sex oils, an let them slide down her throat to coat it 
wit pungent sexiness and she used her fingers a probes to unseal the wet, 
pink tunnel that was th center of Irma's sexuality. The result was fantastic 
That slim, curvaceous body went berserk in he arms, each tongue stroke 
making Irma quiver am sigh and writhe under her. 

Irma needed a little instruction on getting hei suck on Shirley's cunt 
started. When she hit ii right, Shirley felt like someone had picked up an 
electric cord and plugged it into the wall. Her cuni and belly rose in 
roaring heat. 

"AH, IRMA-I'M SUUUUUUCKED, AH, WOW, THAT'S HOT. YOU-TAKIIING ME." 

It was her turn to writhe and revel in the sweet thrills of her cunt as Irma 
worked on her. Joe and Ted watched the scene with absorbed interest. 

"Never saw anything like it," breathed Joe. 

"That act on stage would be worth a million," said Ted. 

The two girls no longer paid any attention to the viewers. They were locked 
in the hot, tight glamor world of sex, eating each other. The sight was 
fantastic. Those two nude, attractive bodies gliding and sliding against 
each other. The sight of hard-nippled breasts rubbed and grasped, while wet 
tongues sank into pink flesh. Magnificent thighs pressed delicately 
forbidden thrills against beautiful heads. 

Shirley was on top and watching her magnificent ass clench and ripple. Ted 
almost jumped on top of her and fed a hungry cock into her butt hole, she 
was that sexy. But he wasn't quite sperm-ready yet. 

Irma had felt shocked, thrilled and finally exalted in the revelation of her 
secret lust. She did not understand it. She knew she wasn't a basic lesbian, 
but Shirley always turned her on. Maybe having such a kinky husband added to 
her lust. She just drilled up on Shirl's tongue and let herself go, showing 
it all to the world, riding off long, golden minutes of sweet delight, 
fulfilling one of her long-guarded secret fantasies-having her cunt eaten by 
a beautiful woman. 

"AW, NOW, SHIRL. IT'S GETTING-GETTING-ME THERE," she cried. She had to take 
her mouth off Shirley's sweet cunt as her body began to tense. A rush of 
pleasure came from nowhere to lock down all her muscles and make her grunt 
and writhe in her extreme joy and passion. 

"There she goes!" cried Joe. 

The slim blonde's body jerked and writhed and her anxious eyes roamed 
helplessly, tongue lolling as she gave up her sex to Shirley with swift, 
decisive throbs that left her weak and relieved. 

"UNG, UNG, UNG." 

Ugly sounds seemed to go along with the sweetest ecstasy of orgasm in the 
world. She throbbed and throbbed. 

Shirley pleased Irma enormously with her explosive tongue doing all the 
right things, enjoying the feel of those deep body spasms that told Shirley 
she'd really girl-fucked her friend to glory. Then she forced her cunt back 
on Irma's head and rode herself off. It wasn't quite the same wildness for 
her, because she'd already acted out her lesbian impulses, whatever they 
were, that day with Claire Oliphant. Yet sometimes a deliberate orgasm was 
even better than one loaded with passion. You just rose right up and watched 
and felt your body lose itself to that aching fullness of pleasure. You 
could play the innocent bystander right up to the end and even prolong those 
sexy seconds of complete paralysis just before orgasm. But then animal 
passion had its way. The sweeping waves of orgasm drove all sense and 
sensibility from your mind ... 

"AHHH, YESSSSSS!" cried Shirley, locking and throbbing on Irma's mouth. "AH, 
OH, BABEEE, y0U OWN MEEEEEE!" 

She whined off her pleasure, clipping on Irma's tongue, dying her sweet sex 
death and giving up all her sex treasure to her blonde friend. After the 
high tension they'd raised by sucking the boys, it was a fabulous relief to 
give up all her sexuality. 

Afterwards the girls dressed and they showen Syd, as they thought of him, 
the two bedroom with the closets filled with sex clothes. 

"Hey, this is enough stuff for six hookers" laughed Ted. 

"Soon we may have six hookers," said Joe. 

They returned to the living room to conclude their deal. There could be 
nothing in writing. Ted produced a fat wallet and before the hypnotized eyes 
of the other three he laid out twenty one hundred dollar bills. 

"This ought to start the pump churning," he laughed and then he retired to 
pour drinks all around while Joe, Irma and Shirley eagerly divided up the 
take. Ted came over and presented each of them with a small glass of heavy 
port wine. 

"A quick drink to the future, then I've got to run," he said. 

The three of them made no attempt to stop him, the cruds. That money already 
burned a hole in their pockets. Ted felt contempt for Joe and Irma Small 
timers. There was no way he could feel contempt for Shirley with that great 
body. 

"We've got a great future, Joe," he said, smiling into Joe's eyes. Joe 
smiled right back at him. 

"Ten years from now we'll own Chicago," Joe replied, thinking what a dumb 
cookie Syd was. This time tomorrow Joe planned to be a thousand miles away 
from Chicago and would never come back. 

It Joe knocked back his drink, thinking that it seemed a little strange, but 
he'd never cared a lot for port wine. 

"Irma, you're my doll," said Ted, toasting the blonde. 

"We'll make a great team," said Irma, quickly drinking her port. She felt a 
little guilty taking this poor soul's money. He really wasn't a bad sort, 
just kind of dumb. The wine burned her throat going down. 

"Shirley, my lovely, long-haired brunette," said Ted. "Here's to lots of 
tomorrows." 

"Cheers," she said and devoured her drink quickly. She could only think that 
she wanted to get out of here before the men recovered and demanded more 
sex. She headed for the bedroom. "Excuse me. I've got to change." 

Ted took a step and then controlled himself. He smiled and nodded. In thirty 
seconds all three of them would be out like lights. 

 Chapter Six 

Ted waited a full five minutes watching Joe asleep on the sofa and Irma 
snoring on the rug Then, almost sadly, he recovered the thousand dollars 
from Joe's pocket and the five hundred from Irma's purse. 

"Sorry, kids, he said, "you were never in the game and the money was only a 
loan." 

Then he strolled to the bedroom to collect Shirley. The panel truck would be 
along shortly. She was not in the bedroom. The window was wide open. 

"Shit!" he said, feeling a little panic. He made a quick check of the room, 
flashing the closets and under the bed. It was for sure that she couldn't 
have gone far. The stuff was good. Look how it had put Irma and Joe out. He 
slid out of the window and cursed. There was a small lawn and shrubs and 
across the street there was a park with more shrubs. She could be anywhere 
in that shrubbery. She could've walked half a block with that stuff in her. 
Some it hit quicker than others. But she had to be somewhere near. 

He scoured the lawn and the park in ever widening circles, the panic 
growing. He began to face the ugly fact that the little broad had somehow 
gotten away, incredible as it seemed. She had felt faint, had opened the 
window, staggered out and some passing motorist picked her up. Was that 
possible? He conjured up a picture of her. It was possible. Even in her 
street clothes, any red-blooded male in Chicago would stop to help her, give 
aid, drive her to a doctor, a hospital or the cops. 

The panel truck drove up, the guy who was supposed to help take Shirley to 
the private airport. He and Ted exchanged recognition signals. 

"The girl isn't here right now," said Ted. "There's a minor slip." 

"Mister, I don't work with minor slips," said the driver, glaring at him. 
"Only amateurs slip. It goes smooth or I get out." He roared away from the 
curb while Ted cursed and shouted after him. He quickly stopped that when a 
woman leaned out of another apartment in Joe's building and yelled down at 
him to shut up. He must not attract attention to himself. His whole deal had 
begun to unravel. He'd lost two hundred with that driver and now had no way 
to transport Shirley even if he did find her ... except to steal Joe's car 
and that was a bad idea. 

Think fast. Guy picks up girl, girl passes out in car. Guy bound to head for 
cops. Girl can't talk, but guy tells them where he picked her up. Cops come, 
maybe they find Joe and Irma, also knocked out. You had to judge these 
things on worst case basis. That gave him about five or ten more safe 
minutes. 

Ted wished now he had his own car. He never used cars on the theory that 
police or other pursuers always checked for a car first and had quick ways 
to find you out. Taxis were no good either. You could be recognized. Buses, 
public transportation-nobody ever saw you. But this time it worked against 
him. 

Back in the apartment, he shook down the bedroom, poking through the mass of 
clothes checking every nook and cranny in the bedroom she'd entered, the 
other one and all of the rest of the place. No good. He'd been stupid to let 
her out of his sight. He was wiped out today on this trip Maybe Shirley was 
so goddam healthy she'd been able to walk five or six blocks before 
collapsing. People had differing resistances to drugs. 

Reluctantly, he took out the money he'd taken back from Joe and from Irma 
and put it back where he'd gotten it, in Joe's pocket and Irma's purse. He'd 
have to give up Shirley for this trip and catch her on the next trip. By 
then these foolish amateurs would probably try to run an operation and get 
arrested. But he was so anxious to get his hands on Shirley that he was 
willing to try again. He'd think up some lie about the spiked wine and catch 
her on the next trip for sure. Right now he had to catch a plane for 
Pittsburgh to close another deal. He tried not to look back as he strode off 
to get his bus. It had been one of those days ... Shirley awoke hours later 
with a headache, against the hard floor of the closet in Joe's apartment. 
There were about a dozen outfits on top of her. She had burrowed clear to 
the bottom of them. She remembered vaguely, drinking some wine and going to 
the bedroom to dress in her street clothes. She had opened the window, 
planning to leave over the lawn without facing the men, especially Syd, 
again. Then she got dizzy. She reached the closet and somehow it turned into 
a bed with lovely soft, seductive covers and she burrowed down deep, deep, 
deep. Ted had poked at the mass of clothes with his foot and later with his 
hands, but he'd been in too great a haste to take everything out-the only 
way he could've found her. 

She knew she'd been drugged, but didn't understand why. She had her money 
and was alone in the apartment. There was a note from Joe and Irma accusing 
her and Syd of pulling some fast one, but they'd gone off, too. So she got 
out of there, found her beat up old Volks and went home ... 

Two days later her mother was on the plane to Miami and the Doris situation 
was solved, she felt. Now all she had to do was use the next three months to 
pile up enough to get herself and the kids out of the cold climate. She 
should've been on her guard. When the clouds of life lighten a little and 
major goals seem possible-those are the moments when disaster strikes ... 

It happened to her two days later when she came off shift and found her teen 
babysitter alone with little Kathy. 

"Why, where's Joe?" she asked. 

"Oh, your husband came and got him," said the girl, unconcerned. "He took 
some of Joe's things, too. He said it was okay." 

She felt a prickle of a doom sensation right then She was not kept long in 
suspense. There was an insistent knocking on her door and there was Frank 
Dawson. 

"Well, they pulled it, the assholes!" he growled. 

"Who-pulled what?" she quavered. 

"I told you that stud stupe you were married to was carrying on with my 
wife. Look at this." 

He thrust a note at her and there was all the bad news. She almost fainted 
when she read what Irma had written. Irma said that she and Harold had 
planned to run off together and escape Frank and Shirley for a long time. 
They were going to take the two little boys-Irma's Roy and Shirley's 
Joe-because the two kids were close buddies and playmates. They were going 
to find a rural area where life was simple and live as man and wife with the 
two little boys. 

"It's no good to fight it-or follow us, Shirley," Irma had written. "Harold 
is entitled to some custody rights over Joe. You have Kathy, so just go on 
to Miami and forget us." 

"Frank, oh my God!" cried Shirley. "Irma and Harold-the two little 
boys-it'll never work. We've got to find them" 

"On the contrary," said Frank, "it's good riddance I never liked Roy 
anyway-lrma raised him too wild. Now I'm a bachelor again. I'm free, dammit 
and I've got a good job and nobody bugging me." 

"Frank-" 

"You're almost as well off, kid. You've gotten rid of your dumb mother and 
only have one kid left to worry about. You can live a little, too. You come 
over to my apartment tonight and we'll celebrate." 

"FRANK, YOU'RE A MONSTER. GET OUT!" she screamed. 

He looked puzzled, shrugged and stomped off, banging the door. Shirley 
hugged little Kathy and wept. Then she saw the little girl was getting 
scared so she tried to calm down and put her daughter through the usual 
comfortable routines of evening. When at last Kathy had gone to sleep in her 
small bed, sweet and innocent, doll clasped in her arms, Shirley had a good 
cry and then paced the apartment thinking furiously. She would need money to 
find Little Joe-she would never give up her son, or split up her family 
without a fight ... Imagine that Irma-so fast and loose and all of the time 
she was getting money to set up a permanent situation with Harold. Somehow 
it dignifies lifted Irma in her mind, in spite of her anger i had done wild 
things, had sold sex for money k. had done it for Harold and her son. And 
she w probably wise to walk out on kinky Frank. gu oh, it hurt to realize 
that in all those times they'd had, all the fun they'd had, Irma was 
plotting thj stab in the heart. It took hours and hours of pacjn before 
Shirley was tired enough to sleep. She fe|t so alone. Big Joe Kellar was 
gone, Irma was gone her mother was gone, Frank was going-she planned not to 
see him and her son was gone. 

She faced the deadly truth now. She was never going to leave the cold 
^climate, or Chicago. She'd need money now to hire a private detective to 
find Little Joe and his father. She knew instinctively that the law would do 
nothing, as long as Harold was Joe's natural father. It would all be up to 
her. 

She crept into the kid's bedroom and touched the satin cheek of her sleeping 
daughter. 

"Just you and I, Kathy," she whispered. "We're going to have to fight it 
alone-and get your brother back ... " 

The boys in the pickup line at O'Hare were cracking up. Shirley went to one 
of her old friends in the line. 

"What's the joke, Knox?" 

"That hillbilly over there-with the cowboy hat-from Kansas. Him and that 
kid. It's his son." 

She looked at them. They had an outdoor look about them, but seemed to her 
to both be handsome men. The father was about forty-five, big-shouldered and 
flat-bellied. The son was about twenty, slim and wiry. Both had nice faces. 

"So what's the big joke?" 

"He brought his son-to the big city-to get laid," Knox grinned. "He brought 
up a load of cattle for the stockyards and brought his son along to turn him 
into a man. Says there's no chance for the kid to get it off on the lonely 
ranch, so he's been asking the cabbies for the names of whores." 

"I'd say he came to the right place, Knox." 

"Yeah-but he expects it all-for fifteen dollars!" 

Puzzled, Shirley moved over closer to the rancher and his son. They were 
well-dressed and when she got close she thought there was shrewdness in the 
eyes of the older man. She saw him eye her and blushed a little. These days 
she dressed pretty sexily for a cab driver. Well, she needed money for the 
private detective and needed it now. There was no point in holding back. 

"Looking for a cab. Mister." 

The man looked her straight in the eye and blushed. "Prefer a man cab 
driver, ma'am." 

"I've heard about your problem," she said, standing her ground. 

The kid bolted off as if too embarrassed to stay around. The man's eyes 
turned warm. 

"Didn't expect to discuss it with a working lady." 

"You need a lady," she shot back. 

He looked down at his work-roughened thumbs. "I-uh-need a whore, ma'am." 

"You need a lady," she said firmly. "You hold back till I make the head of 
the line and you won't regret it." 

She felt lightheaded as she drove them to their hotel, one of the more 
modest ones downtown They both looked like virile men and she wasn't sure 
what she was getting into. The man had introduced himself as Wendell Ryerson 
and his son's name was Phil. Phil continued to show disinterest in the whole 
operation. 

"Now then, Shirley, ma'am," said Wendell, "I've heard how you city taxi 
drivers skin country folks by driving way and hellangone out of the normal 
route to run up the fare. I want you to know I've got a map right here of 
where we're supposed to go." 

"I'll take you in a straight, straight line, Wendell," she said. "I don't 
cheat my customers." 

"Maybe not, but it seems to me your meter runs awful fast. Is it supposed to 
go that fast?" 

"It's right on the money, Wendell," she said. It began to look like she'd 
made a big mistake. 

They reached the hotel and before they registered she took the father aside. 
She told him if he wanted to do right by his sons's problem, it had to be 
done with taste. She suggested she take the young man out on the town for 
dinner and ggt him to relax then she'd take him on a visit to her apartment 
and bring him back after a warm and memorable evening. 

"At my expense?" Wendell asked. 

"Well I would think that essential," she said, a little stunned. 

"Got a better idea, Shirley," he said, his jaws moving steadily over a wad 
of chewing gum. "We could all just stay at your apartment overnight. No use 
to waste money on a hotel when we've got other business." 

"Oh, Wendell, I couldn't do that." 

"Sure you could," he said cheerfully. "That way there doesn't have to be a 
night on the town. We'll pick up some steaks at a store-I can cook 
steaks-and spend the whole evening right at home with you." 

The nerve of the man stunned her. "Listen, Wendell, I've got to make 
something out of this-" 

"Oh, we'll pay, we'll pay. Wendell Ryerson is no free-loader." 

It didn't seem like it should be happening, but it was. She ended up by 
checking off of her shift and driving the two big men and their luggage home 
to her apartment in her beat-up Volkswagen ... Maybe it was their clean, 
honest looks. Maybe it was her mind cracking up ... 

While Wendell busied himself in her kitchen with the steaks, she went to the 
nearby apartment where, her teenage baby-sitter watched over Kathy and made 
arrangements for Kathy to stay all night When she got back, the rancher was 
still happily busy in the kitchen, so she went to her bedroom, undressed and 
put on a robe. Then she plucked Phil, the son, away from her small TV in the 
smaller living room. He was a handsome, tall boy of nineteen who, so far, 
had either given her a frozen, joyless smile or ignored her. 

"Would you like to take a shower before dinner?" 

He grunted, looked at her with resentment, then got up and headed for the 
bathroom. She checked on Wendell in the kitchen: "Can I help?" 

"You just leave me alone to handle this, Shirley, Do your primping and get 
ready for a big rancher's dinner," he laughed. 

She left him, grinning. He was one of those self-sufficient, outdoor types 
who probably spent a lot of time chasing his cattle over the range, sleeping 
in tents and cooking over campfires. He was so delighted with cheap lodgings 
for tonight that he'd probably clean the apartment for her, too. She'd never 
met anyone so tight. But that hostile son was something else again. 

She slipped into the bathroom, which was all steamed up with Phil's shower. 
She closed the door and slid out of her robe. She went up to the shower 
curtains and pulled them open. 

"Wash your back?" she asked, smiling. 

The boy's head came up and he blushed. "I-I-I-" 

She eased into the shower behind him. He turned his back on her. His long, 
slim body was a real turn-on, smooth young skin gleaming with the water and 
traces of the soap. She took a rag and the soap and began to wash his back. 
"Are you really this shy with women?" 

"Dad thinks I'm homosexual!" he blurted. "Just because I spend a lot of time 
with Jimmy, my friend." 

"Well, are you?" she asked boldly. She looked down and thrilled to see his 
naked male ass. 

"You see, around the ranch there aren't many girls. The ones there are-well, 
they're not too good-looking, either. Not around our place." 

He didn't seem homosexual to her. That shyness and blushing meant that he 
was deeply affected by a young person of the opposite sex. 

"Your father thinks you need to be with a girl. Would I do?" 

"He wants you himself!" he sang out, still under tension. "He did the same 
thing on a trip we took together to Omaha." 

"I doubt he'd spend the money to get it from me," she laughed. 

She felt really sexed up now. The boy's naked body ... the smooth stroking 
on his back ... the warmth of the shower and the closed-in privacy. 

"l-haven't got any money," he said in agony. "No, but you're young-and 
sexy," she Iaughed She could no longer resist. It wasn't only that he was 
young but that he was shy. Men always came on strong to attractive women and 
she enjoyed the role reversal. She reached over his hip and took his cock in 
her hand. She almost died! She'd expected to find it flaccid. Instead his 
young pole strained out from his body with exquisite rigidit. It was big, 
too. Long, powerful, sexxxy. 

"So much for the homosexual lie," she breathed, frigging him. 

"Just because-ah, oh-I sp-sp-spend a lot of time with Jimmy-" he stuttered. 

She pressed her nude belly against his rubbery warm buttocks. 

"Well, Jimmy isn't here tonight, Phil." 

He threw back his head, raised his arms to circle her body backwards and dug 
his hands into soft, yielding flesh. 

"I never-never-did anything with Jimmy-" 

"Turn around, Phil," she whispered. "I'll give you head that you won't 
believe a woman can do. That's a good start on your sex life." She knew the 
value of four letter words in erotic situations. "Later we can fuck, too. 
You really turn me on, youngster!" 

"I-I-I-" 

She turned him around and he came reluctantly. They hugged and that rugged, 
young prick dug hotly against her belly. Her hard nipples pressed into his 
chest. She flowed into his arms. 

"Just a couple of kisses, Phil. Then I'll suck your cock and give you the 
blast of a lifetime" 

"l-l-can t! 

"WHat!" 

"I-have to be faithful-to someone else." 

"But you said you had no girl." 

"I-I-I-" 

Talk about a screwed up family! This one took the cake! She stared up at his 
face and found it locked in misery. Stunned, she handed him the wash rag and 
soap. 

"Do my back," she ordered, turning her back to him. Obediently he began to 
wash down her back, his warm hand stroking her soft skin. Once he groaned 
and once he started to say something, as if to explain. She felt miffed. It 
had been a beautiful set-up-her sensations of sexiness and good feeling, the 
delightful sight of his naked body and especially that hard, hard cock. It 
looked like it would be a long evening. 

She rinsed herself off and stepped out of the shower. 

"Wait!" he called. His face really showed agony-lust compounded with 
embarrassment. 

"I'm not waiting, Phil. I was willing to help with your problem, but since 
you have a girl already, you don't have a problem. Forget it." 

She reached for a towel and he came out of the shower then, hard cock 
jutting. Lust had won out. He grabbed her, not with the tentative, awkward 
manner of a virgin teenage boy, but with the decisive grip of a young man 
who knew what he wanted. He spun her around. 

They locked in a naked, body-hugging kiss that left her gasping. 

"I-WANT-YOU-" he gritted his teeth, holding her boldly by the buttocks to 
mash his cock into her belly. 

"Now, wait a minute, Phil," she gasped. "You just said-" 

He seemed not to hear her. He forced her backwards, down, down to her knees. 
His wet, powerful body hung over her. She gave a yelp, "OH!" Down she went, 
flat on her back on the big, thick bath mat. Her legs flew out as she hit 
the floor with a thump and he got between her thighs. For a moment she was 
breathless and in those seconds he got a hand under her naked buttocks and 
canted her belly up. She felt his cock dig for her cunt lips as if he'd done 
it many times. Then came the hot, mad thrill as he violated her. 

"AH, PHIL, UUUHHHHHH"' she went, taking three or four inches of lusty prick. 

"SO GOOD-LOOKING," he cried. "SO HOT AND SEXY-" 

He held her by the hips and forced his stiff cock up the rest of her 
passage. There they were on the uncomfortable bathroom floor, with his rod 
buired hilt deep into her. His eyes shone with lust ... and with some other 
expression, as if he were as surprised as she was by what had happened. 

"You've done this-before-" she managed. 

He came on top of her body, hugging her up to him, Passing their naked 
bellies together. He nodded and shivered. He was still for a long moment, 
his cock buried deep in her vagina. She was too stirred by the friction 
thrills to do anything about it. He covered her like a blanket, hot, hard 
and determined. He retracted his prick. Thrills. He shoved it in again. 
Thrills. He pulled it out, as she creamed and sexed up higher and drilled it 
forward again. He gave grunts that expressed magnificent pleasure: 

"OH-YOU-ARE-A-FUCK," he cried softly. 

She didn't understand. Here was a shy boy, not interested in sex and then, 
all of a sudden, he came at her like she was the last woman on earth. She 
knew she could turn men on, but it had to be more than that. He was into 
some kind of a hang-up or screw up that was really weird. This was not the 
time to discuss it or even think about it. She flung her arms about him and 
hugged him, relishing the strong young stabber that serviced her cunt. 

"TAKE ME, PHIL. D-D-DO MEEE," she whispered. 

"PHIL-SOO HARD-SO FAST." 

"GOT TO-GOT TO-GET IT OFF-" 

"Your father-wouldn't care-" 

"Not him. Been so long. Almost like aweek Saving it for-" 

They mystery again, but he went for her tits at that point. Not too gently, 
either. She wanted to yell in excitement at this burning lust that 
threatened to tear her apart and laugh at the treatment that was almost 
painful. 

"AH-OH, PHIL-YOU'RE-DRIVING ME-TOO, AHHHHHH, HARD," she told him. 

"Crazy to-Crazy to-" 

"You'll cum-leave me," she said. 

That slowed him a little. His eyes rolled back in his head, he stopped and 
his cock dry-throbbed, snuggled tight to her womb. It was a close one. He'd 
almost blasted it into her. 

"I want you-feel good-" he said when the spasm passed. 

"You could kiss, tease a little," she said. 

He began to kiss her and she got another surprise. He did not know how to 
French kiss. He was awkward, almost repulsed, when she forced her tongue 
between his lips and explored. He seemed to know how to kiss only in a prim, 
closed lip way. Of course, he responded to her hot, sweet mouth almost at 
once. In about ten seconds, he kissed, sucked and tongued as avidly as she 
did. 

There was nothing like a mystery in a man to set a woman on fire. This boy 
who was shy but suddenly knew exactly how to fuck, yet couldn't kiss, really 
turned her on. A woman had to draw out and squeeze and tease a man's meaning 
just like she serviced his cock in her body. 

The boy did not move much now. It was as if the load he carried was too much 
and would explode with very little stimulation. Harold had once been like 
that, boiling hot for the first twenty strokes, then so crazed by it all 
that he ejaculated prematurely. 

She didn't mind. She was almost as high and hot as he was and relished the 
power she knew she had. She could squeeze down on his prick in her slick 
tunnel, piston her belly and suck him off just like you sucked a man off 
with your mouth. She began to rock gently. 

"OH, I'M GOING TO-DO IT," he protested. "THAT KISSING-THOSE BREASTS-TOO 
MUCH." 

"You're not going to cum until I tell you that you can," she said in mock 
seriousness, reveling in the sweet sex, even in the craziness of doing it on 
the bathroom floor when there were two bedrooms in the apartment. 

"I-I-TRY-HOLD ON," he gasped. 

Oh, those pricks of the very young, so dominating, yet so weak from their 
very newness, frictioned to glory so fast by a body hot, squeezing cunt. It 
turned her on to feel him holding back and she fucked him at a slow, steady 
rate, guaranteed to make him use all his powers to avoid spilling too soon. 
She wanted him to ache for it before she permitted him to flower in her 
cunt. 

He took her seriously, as if she were his mother instead of his lover, lying 
on her and staring at her big-eyed as he tried to hold back his orgasm 
against her steady, crazing rock of her tight cunt on his blade. 

"Good for you-learn to hold-" she managed "Better feeling -when it comes-as 
inevitable-dazed into it-" 

He nodded as if she'd imparted great wisdom to him. Yet she could not 
continue to manage him because her own erotic nature and needs had begun to 
overhwelm her. That rocking that she did lifted her to higher and hotter 
glory and her own belly ached for the sweet culmination. 

"KISS ME-EAT MY TITS-FUCK ME, FUCK ME," she begged, moving her butt faster. 

He nodded as if he'd gotten the signal in a race from the coach to burst all 
out for the final dash down to the tape. He locked his mouth on hers, tongue 
probing, dug a hand into one of her breasts with her nipple hard and hot to 
his palm and resumed the savage, powerful strokes that he'd started with. 
They went up in a rush of erotic carelessness, fucking madly for the 
explosions and she could hear his powerful prick slogging in her wet meat. 

"AH, OH ME. HAH," he went. "HAH. OH, OH, OH, AIEEEEEE!" 

Hi eyes opened wide and then they closed in sublime delight. His young body 
locked on top of hers as he became paralyzed. He grunted and groaned his 
ecstasy. 

"GOOOOOONE," he went and spurted. 

She sucked in a great lungful of air and let his cock take her. "AHHH, PHIL, 
I'MMM FUUUUUUCKED!" she cried and followed him into a delicious tightening 
of all her muscles to that point of utter stillness and then her sex nerves 
discharged and her cunt quaked around his skewering rod. There was nothing, 
nothing in the world to her as great as that feeling of orgasm, the loss of 
control in a paralytic stillness followed by animalistic, involuntary spasms 
of utter ecstasy. It was even better when her male ejaculated at the same 
time. His young sex equipment flooded her as she squeezed and gloved on his 
cock. 

"AH, PHIL, YOU-DID-AH, AH, AH.-DID IT-JUST RIGHT." 

"SO GREAT-YOUR FACE' YOUR BODY. AH, UH, UH, UH, GOOOD." 

They clung and spent until the sweet storm passed, then lay for a few 
moments locked together, enjoying the intimacy of hot bellies pasted 
together, cock still stiff in her and swimming in both their juices and that 
million dollar feeling in their bodies. 

"WOOOIEEE," he said at last, pulling off of her as if he were an old man. 

"You've done it-done it lots-" she sighed. "You know how." 

"Only the second woman I ever had sex with " he said. And he would say no 
more ... 

The dinner was delicious, as Wendell had promised. Phil seemed relaxed now 
and treated his father quite pleasantly. Wendell seemed puzzled He sensed 
that something had happened, but didn't know what it was. Shirley remained 
high and hot. There was this mystery to be solved-and beyond that the erotic 
notion played in her head. Father and son. Son and father! Two powerful 
cocks. One created the other. Father and son-at the same time. She had to 
smile at her own wild fantasy, but that was what really had led her to bring 
the two of them home. The evening shot by with Phil withdrawing into TV and 
Wendell telling her about the ranch and his life out there. It fascinated 
Shirley to lose herself in the details of someone else's life. 

When bedtime came, Phil was no problem. He asked which spot was his and when 
she gave him the smaller bedroom he retired without further ado, closing the 
door with finality. Wendell was cute. 

"Well, young lady, I guess I can make myself comfortable here on your sofa 
while you take the big bedroom." 

"It's two feet longer than the small bedroom," she laughed. 

"Of course, if you wanted to take a chance with a man who sometimes snores-" 

"It's not that end of your body that would keep me awake," she said, teasing 
him. 

"I just thought-since you're going to sleep with Phil anyway most of the 
night-that maybe-" 

She got up, stretched and yawned. "Wendell, just go in the big bedroom, 
undress and get in bed, will you?" 

He complied in a hurry, chomping excitedly on his chewing gum. When she went 
into his bedroom a few moments later he was already under the covers. She 
marched right up to the bed and peeled down the covers. 

"What the devil." 

She stared down at his big body, his cock curled around his balls. He was in 
great shape, with a big bear of a body, but well-proportioned. His manhood 
looked like it could really grow into something respectable. 

"I want to see it rise-if it rises," she said and began to strip. 

It rose all right. She'd never seen that happen before and to her it was 
like an act of magic. About the time she exposed her naked breasts, his cock 
began to unfurl as if it had a life of its own. It just got longer and 
fatter and rose right off his belly without the slightest stimulation except 
her naked flesh as she exposed it, except for his hot bright eyes. He kept 
making excited sounds of wonder as she stripped down her shorts and then her 
panties. Now it jutted off the end of his body at an angle and he was 
completely ready for whatever action was offered. 

"Baby, you are one beautifully built doll," he breathed in awe. "You just 
made one mistake. You were supposed to do Phil first. Now that I've seen 
you, I can't let you go to him for a while." 

"Oh, we fucked already," she said lightly. "While you made dinner. He isn't 
homosexual or anywhere near it. He's had sex before." 

"What!" He sat up in surprise. "But-he couldn't. A secret girlfriend? He's 
not off the ranch that much." 

"Let me see your wallet, Wendell." 

Stunned by what she had told him, he produced it, but he was not so stunned 
that he didn't take out the money first before handing it to her. She 
flipped through the cards and handed it back. 

"Wendell, excuse me a moment." 

She tossed the wallet back to him, slipped on her robe and left him there, 
staring at her in amazement ... It was dark in Phil's room. She turned on 
the bedside light and looked down on him. He stared up at her, withdrawn, 
secretive, sleepless. She got his pants. She pulled out his wallet and 
looked at the pictures in it. She went back to the bed and sat on the edge. 
He stared at her dumbly. 

She reached under the covers. He was naked and his cock was hard. 

"VVe've been playing," she said, gripping the stiff young blade in her fist. 

"Why not," he said angrily. "Thinking about you and Dad-in there." 

"And also-about her?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Phil, you're fucking your mother. It's driving you crazy keeping it a 
secret from him. Both of you are probably dying of guilt." 

"I-I-I-" 

"In his wallet her picture is of a woman who's sedate, married to a guy of 
fifty or so. In your wallet she looks younger, like thirty-like she's 
getting plenty of sex but it makes her sad." 

She let go of his cock, got up and left the room. Wendell was as she had 
left him in the other bedroom. Even his hard-on was mostly intact. 

"What-" 

She shook her head. She was so high on the idea of those two stiff cocks, 
father and son and the piercing of that mystery that she dropped her robe, 
got naked on the bed and straddled Wendell. His cock was thicker than his 
son's. She groaned as she impaled herself on it, sitting on his hips. 

"YOU-ARE CRAZY-BUT I-DON'T REALLY MIND!" he cried. His eyes drank in her 
charms, her youth, the smooth, nude flesh and he grabbed her hips and began 
to unseal her cunt. He closed his eyes, held her hips and fucked up with 
powerful thrusts. She groaned in the thrilling upsweep of pleasure, unable 
to speak for a few, moments. Then it was more comfortable and he was good, 
not too quick or rough in that sexxxy sliding friction. 

"S-s-sure your wife doesn't mind?" she asked. 

"Oh, I ... get a little ... on the outside. Guys do." 

"How about her?" 

"No way. I'd kill her. It's the code." 

She just folded down on Wendell and let her feelings float. His prick was 
almost too big for her, but it was luscious sex because she was almost to 
the wall of pain, which somehow made the pleasure better. She thought about 
the boil of sperm in his sex equipment, the same hot liquid that had created 
the handsome boy in the other room-with the sexy young cock she'd already 
unplugged. Then she thought about the woman between them-the good-looking 
mother isolated in that lonely country ranch and both cocks, at different 
times, grooving up her wild, guilty, love-hungry cunt. She was the woman and 
enthusiastically rode Wendell, taking his ecstatic thrusts in pure rapture. 

"OH, WENDELL, YOU'RE BLOWING MY MIND-I'M GOING OUT OF MY HEAD WITH IT. WHAT 
A MAN! WHAT A COCK!" 

He was as captured as she. He ate her breasts, he dug his fingers into her 
back and drilled into her. He could feel the hot rising to delight clear 
down in his toes. This young, bold, good-looking doll was the best, hottest 
little bitch he'd ever touched. He beqan to kiss her wetly and the wetter he 
got, the wetter she became. For long precious moments they fucked faster and 
faster ... 

The door opened and Phil, naked and hard, came into the room. 

"It was supposed to be mine," he said. He stood there by the bed, blushing 
but determined. 

Wendell forced himself out of his magic world and stopped for a moment. 

"Oh, God, son. I-I-" 

Pleasure-soaked and dizzy, Shirley reached over and took hold of Phil's 
prick. 

"Climb on the bed. It's yours too, Phil." 

"Shirley!" cried Wendell. 

"There has to be something for me, too, you jerks," she said dreamily. 
"Father and son-at the same time-why do you think I brought-you both home?" 

Phil took his position at his father's shoulders while Wendell made shocked 
sounds. But not too loudly. Wendell was almost there and he didn't want to 
do anything but get on with the action, never mind if even the President 
showed up to watch. Shirley began to undulate her hips lasciviously again 
and he began to fuck her once more. She leaned forward and slid Phil's 
blood-engorged tool into her mouth. She laid a heavy suck demand on his 
prick because she was as impatient for relief and orgasm as Wendell. 

"AHHH, WOW," went Phil. 

"I can't believe it," said his father, looking up seeing the stiff young 
cock plunge into that beautiful mouth and come out, shining with satiny 
saliva. "I can't believe this." 

Shirley didn't say anything. She was too far gone to talk. Her whole body 
reveled in the sweet action of handling two pricks at once-one belonging to 
the father and the other to the son. She cupped Phil's balls and sent a long 
finger up his seam to his asshole and gently pulled the whole sex machine 
closer to her face, sucking and eating the young rod. At the same time she 
began to drum her white hot cunt on Wendell's prick. They caught her 
excitement. For two of the longest, most precious minutes in her life she 
was caught up with them in a whirwind of sex, cocks drilling, her cunt and 
mouth wildly trying to service them. 

"AH, MEEE, SO HOT, DOMING ME. UH, UH, UH," Phil sang. 

"IN YOUR-HOT GUTS-WOMAN-FUUUUUUCKING, GETTING FT UP," keened Wendell. 

Just as they started to make animal sounds, sweating up to their peaks, she 
broke. She gave a great shout, losing Phil's prick, her face contorted. 

"GLO-REEEEEE!" she cried, her body shivering to a dead stop. "OH,-AH-MY 
GOD-I'LL DIE!" 

Throb. Throb. Throb. It was her richest woman's tribute ever, her belly 
collapsing in the hot excitement and her cunt squeezing and clipping on 
Wendell's big penis, thrilling him with her abject surrender. She dug her 
nails into his shoulders, whimpered, hunkered to his body, and sucked his 
cock in, giving up her girlhood with exquisite runs of pleasure bursts. For 
wild seconds she felt her whole body expand and contract, like her cunt and 
thought she would faint from the joy of it. It was absolutely fabulous. 
Everything was open and loose, shaking and throbbing in total relief and 
magnificence. 

Then she started to fade. As she came down a little off her high, she felt 
Wendell start to go. He was close to the edge, tremendously stirred by her 
submissive orgasm. 

"AHHH, SHIRLEY-SLIDING OVER-" 

It had to be now, just as Wendell reached his moment of highest excitement. 
As his body tensed under her and he reached those precious mini-seconds 
before bursting, she put her lips to his ear and said, loud enough for Phil 
to hear- 

"Your son's fucking his mother-your wife-you should know that." 

For Wendell it was the most fantastic orgasm of his life, because the mental 
shock hit him just as the physical delight-trauma slammed down. 

"WHAT! OH, GOD!" He flung his seed then. She had never felt such powerful 
bursts as his sperm spurted out, driven not only by his animal lust, but 
also by this shocking statement that blew his nervous system as much as the 
orgasm. 

"HAOOO, HAOOO, HAOOO," he bayed exploding huge darts of hot semen into her 
cunt. 

Above his head Phil began to gurgle and growl He had been crazed by the 
lush, erotic sight of his father drilling his hard cock into Shirley's cunt 
There was the beautiful young girl, tits jiggling smooth ass clenching, long 
legs spread out in her wounding and he could even see part of the male blade 
cleave into her female hole. The sounds of delirious animal pleasure were 
almost as exciting as the sight. Then came the sweet friction on his prick 
and the feel of fucking into Shirley's mouth as the other cock drove 
savagely into her belly. 

Just as his father came, she spoke those searing, smashing words and the 
shock to his ears was as great as to the ears of his father. 

"YEEEEEE!"hewent. 

Shirley, still quivering off some finishing cunt quakes, somehow got Phil's 
prick back in her mouth. She took the hotly flung spunk with long, deep 
pulls, as if she had swallowed the nectar of the gods, emptying his young 
reservoir with a strong demand suck. He grabbed her head and held it, 
chunking off great squirts of his gushing 

manhood down her throat, crazed by the pleasure, the shock and weirdness of 
the whole situation. Wendell, finally finished with the hottest throw of his 
life sank back, too weak to move for the moment. 

"I'II be goddamned," he said. 

Phil rocked, finishing his cock runs into Shirley's mouth. "Thank God she 
told you," he said. "It had to come out. I didn't have the nerve. Mom didn't 
have the nerve ... uh, oh, oh ... " 

Her first act the next morning was to drive Wendell and Phil to the airport, 
once she got her cab checked out for duty. The two men were close this 
morning. Last night there'd been further sex and then Wendell and his son 
had spent most of the rest of the night talking. 

"Even so, it took a lot of nerve for you to tell me about Barbara and Phil," 
said Wendell as they bowled along. 

"It was a feeling thing," she answered. "I saw you killing poor Phil and 
Barbara if it came up at some other time. The only possible time it would 
really reach you in the right way was at that moment. Phil was being driven 
crazy by his secret. I'd guess your wife, too." 

"You can say that again," laughed Phil. "Today I feel so great, a load off 
my shoulders. I feel like I'm ten years old again." 

"Of course it'll be sticky for a while back at the ranch," said Shirley. 

"Sticky, hell!" roared Wendell. "It'll be great. I'm crazy to get home and 
screw Barbara, now that I know. We'll spend the rest of the summer having a 
threesome. Keep it all in the family." 

They all laughed at that and she guessed that they probably would swing a 
little. But her instincts told her that Phil was almost cured of 
it-especially after last night. He'd be moving on to younger pastures now. 
Incest was always a shock but it wasn't the heaviest trouble people could 
get into by a long shot. 

The best moments came when they parted. Phil was sweet and tender, but 
Wendell was her greatest triumph. He handed her his wallet. 

"Take what you think you should have," he said. 

"Tough for you," she kidded him. "I need money to track down a missing son." 
She extracted two one hundred dollar bills from his wallet and handed it 
back. 

But he shook his head and took out another hundred, pressing it in her 
hands. "For Barbara," he said. Then he squeezed her hands and looked deeply 
into her eyes and she felt the flood of his thanks. Father and son moved 
off, arms around each other's shoulders. 

Knox, the cab driver, said: "Hey, ain't those the two hillbillies where the 
old man wanted to get the kid laid? I wonder if he did?" 

"I wonder," said Shirley, with a secret smile. 

 Chapter Seven 

Drunks, Shirley had found, were real problems for taxi drivers. The worst 
were the sick drunks who stained your cab and were a headache to handle. 
Some of them got belligerent. Some went to sleep and could hardly be 
awakened at the end of the run. Some argued in loud voices and others made 
wild requests. Others had spent all their money and couldn't pay for their 
rides. If these wrote a check it was sure to bounce. Put this against the 
few that were happy, even delightful and overtipped and the balance was 
still against hacking drunks around town. 

Nevertheless, she got her share. About a week after the night with the 
Ryersons, father and son, she picked up one who was attending a convention 
at a downtown hotel. Conventions were good business for cab drivers. The 
people were well-heeled, usually and didn't mind the taxi rates. 

Mr. Phelps had wandered far afield to the SILVER STREAK from his convention 
hotel and wanted a ride back downtown. She took him because she figured she 
could pick up a good fare when she got there. It was an electronics 
equipment convention, which meant well-heeled engineers and executives. 

On the ride Phelps regaled her with stories about his boss, who had a 
serious sexual problem. In his happy condition, Phelps thought it was 
hilarious His boss could not get erections. His boss was rich powerful and 
successful. He owned an Arizona electronics firm, lived in a mansion and had 
servants coming out of his ears. He was a widower who could lure, or buy, 
prize female flesh, twenty-year-olds if he wanted. 

"But he can't get it up," cried Phelps. "All that money, all that power-what 
the rest of us work for and die for-he's got it all, but what good is it?" 

He laughed happily. "Me-I'm married, making good money but with plenty of 
financial problems. But give me a shot at some young stuff and I can blaze 
away all night. I'd rather be me. I'd really rather be me. I could lift a 
ten pound weight with my jong when I'm hot, believe me." 

If he had not been drunk, he would not have revealed such intimate details 
about his boss, she knew. He chuckled and went on to tell her how old Harris 
would come to these conventions, get some "model" in his room, then 
embarrass himself and the girl. Sometimes Phelps got to take over and that 
was great. He told Shirley that some of the girls became very upset when 
Harris got them high and then embarrass himself and the girl. 

"Money isn't everything, buh-leeve me," said Phelps with that heavy serious 
air with which drunks present the most worn-out cliches to their listeners, 
as if they'd just invented the thoughts. 

Shirley wasn't interested in the boss. If Phelps were a lively one, she 
thought she might get something started with him for a big "tip"-but his 
talking jag faded and by the time they reached the hotel he was half-asleep. 
She had to lug him up to his room. It was that or be seen taking her fare 
out of his wallet right there in the crowded lobby. The convention crowds 
flowed everywhere, so she walked him upstairs, carrying most of his weight 
and delivered him to his room, where he flopped on the bed like a dead man. 
She got out his wallet to pay herself and produced a handful of bills when 
the bathroom door opened and a smallish white-haired man appeared. He glared 
at her. 

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" 

"Paying myself for a ten mile taxi ride, plus a modest tip for having to 
listen to a sloshed customer unload his morbid stories on me." 

"I know Mr. Phelps," said the man. "I don't believe he would tell morbid 
stories to anyone. He's a very happy person." 

He grabbed the wallet from her, as if he disbelieved her right to be paid. 
That angered her. 

"It was morbid all right. It was about his boss, some man named 'Harris' who 
tries to have sex with women but can't get an erection. Mr. Phelps thought 
it was hilarious, but I thought it was morbid. The poor old guy must be in a 
bad way." 

The man turned red. He suddenly handed the wallet back to her. 

"He is in a bad way. You're right, the story is morbid. My name is Harris, 
Reginald Harris. I'm Phelps' boss. I will have to speak to him when he 
sobers up." 

"Oh-oh. I put my foot in it. I'm sorry Mr. Harris. I just got a little mad 
because you acted like I didn't have a right to my fare and a decent tip. 

He turned his back and walked to the window badly ruffled. "Take what you 
need and go, lady." 

She felt sorry for him. It must be doubly embarrassing to have your sex 
weakness exposed to a complete stranger and in his case, a beautiful young 
woman at that. 

"Mr. Harris, they say there's a lot you can do about an impotent condition. 
You shouldn't think it hopeless-" 

He spun around, flushed and angry. 

"That's just what I need, a lecture from a young-young-and beautiful female 
taxi driver on my private problems." 

It wasn't until that moment that it occurred to her that he might represent 
a golden opportunity. 

"I just meant-with the right female-uh, woman. I mean, if somebody knew the 
problem and was sympathetic-" 

He fixed her with his executive eye. 

"Are you suggesting yourself, Shirley?" He had read her name tag. 

"Well, yes or no. I mean it's not impossible." 

"Yes or no?" 

"Well-" But it was just too crude. It was her turn to blush. She knew that 
rich men got propositioned all the time and he probably thought her a hooker 
or something. It was impossible. 

"Sorry I spoke. It's just that my husband stole my son and I'm hiring a 
private detective-need money-" 

She broke off. She grabbed her money, threw the wallet on the bed and fled. 
He stood by the window, teetering on his heels and glaring at her, a man of 
about her height, not bad-looking, trim and powerful, hidden behind his 
riches and position. 

"Good luck, Mr. Harris. I'm sorry." 

"Good luck to you, too, Shirley," he said, salvaging an ego triumph in 
making her retreat in confusion. 

As she left the hotel lobby, the doorman stopped her. 

"Are you 'Shirley'? Regency Cab. Co.?" He was on the house phone. 

"I'm Shirley. What-" 

He handed her the telephone. It was Mr. Harris' voice. 

"Uh, Shirley, I guess I was a bit stuffy just now. I regret that. None of 
this was your fault. You have a problem and so do I. I wondered if you might 
want to have dinner with me, or a drink when your work shift is over? Just 
to talk. You wouldn't have to ... necessarily ... do anything with me." 

"I'd be delighted!" cried Shirley. She took his room number. 

Later that night, threading her way through the convention crowds and 
dressed for the evening on her own time, she resolved to go into the old 
man's problem in depth. The private detective that she'd hired had been able 
to trace Irma and Harold to a small college town in downstate Illinois and 
from there to still another place in Kentucky. Another small college town, 
of course, because Harold couldn't quite give up his profession of being a 
student. She wondered what they lived on and hoped that Irma wasn't 
following her bent toward selling her body. They'd both be a bad influence 
on poor little Joe. What Shirley had to do was get enough money to nail them 
down-then she'd go flying after them, no matter where they were and get Joe 
back. Her life would remain incomplete until she'd done that. Mom and Doris 
were making out okay in Florida, although her mother wasn't sure the 
marriage could be saved and things were okay with little Kathy. Her son was 
the unfinished business in her life and she would do anything and go 
anywhere to get him back under her wing ... 

Mr. Harris took her to the elegant dining room in the hotel and they enjoyed 
a dinner that must've cost him fifty dollars, what with the wine and 
everything. There was no trace of Mr. Phelps. 

I hope you weren't too rough on him," said Shirley. "He was drunk, you know, 
when he babbled all that stuff." 

"Oh, I won't fire him," said Harris. "I just sent him packing back to 
Arizona on a night plane. These conventions are a sort of vacation for my 
boys, but he deserved to lose out on this one." 

The older man seemed more nervous than she was. "When you have a problem 
like mine, you think the whole world knows," he said. "I realize lots of 
people who know me are staring at us and wondering what goes on. In a way, 
I'm glad that Phelps tipped it to you. I just don't think I could confess my 
situation to a young, attractive woman such as yourself." 

"Women would understand, though," said Shirley. "Lots of men, even young 
ones, have impotence problems at one time or another. It's really nothing to 
be ashamed of." 

"Maybe not," said Harris. "It's also nothing to be proud of. All I want is 
one good experience, just one to set me up again." 

She had him undress and get in bed while she turned the lights down low so 
that there was a romantic glow to the room. She put on the stereo with which 
his suite was provided-Mr. Harris traveled first class. She got into bed 
with him, feeling the elegance of the room, the spaciousness, the fabulous 
decor, the unaccustomed delights of being in a rich environment. It was 
really a change excercise and health foods, even older men seemed to take 
better care of themselves. His cock had enlarged, but it was not hard. 

"Stay relaxed. We've got a lot of time, Reg," she whispered. 

They began to kiss. At first he was shy, but in no time at all, his 
breathing became fast and he hugged her to him, stimulating his rather 
good-sized cock. 

"Not so hard," she laughed. "Not so fast. You'll get it off before you have 
an erection and that'll be a waste." 

"I'm-trying to slow down. You're so soft-voluptuous-sexy!" 

Almost in self-defense, she threw back the covers and hovered over him, 
kissing down his body, starting with the shoulders. As her tongue worked 
down she gave his flesh warm kisses, nibbles and flicks that made him groan 
with pleasure. He reveled in shaping and kneading those full breasts of 
hers, slick and warm in the nylon. She sucked his male nipples, dug her 
tongue hotly against his navel and went down and down. Soon she ran her 
tongue through the thick patch of gray pubic hair and began to fondle his 
cock, which had gotten half-hard and stayed like that. 

"About as hot-as I ever get!" he gasped. 

"You can get hotter." 

She sucked his cock gently, heard him gasp and felt the prick dry-throb in 
eagerness, though it was of pace for her after sitting all day in a cab and 
living with Kathy in her small apartment. He had turned the situation over 
to her, no longer the powerful executive, but a sad older man who had to 
rely on her young wisdom in sexual matters. She had put on one of her nylon 
slips, figuring that he'd had plenty of failures with naked young women who 
jumped into bed with him to attack his older penis with the full force of 
their sexuality, which was probably too much. 

In her white nylon slip she presented something of a picture of almost 
virginal innocence, but with nice touches of sex where the soft, gleaming 
material shaped against her breasts, buttocks and thighs. She felt Harris' 
eyes dwell on her figure as she moved around the room before she slid under 
the covers with him. 

He grabbed her immediately, but she stopped him. 

"You'll probably get all anxious and quick, trying too hard, Mr. Harris," 
she said. "Why don't we just lie here and warm ourselves for a while." 

"Call me 'Reg'. That'll help," he said and pulled back to let her take over. 

After a moment, when she heard his excited breathing slow, she ran her hand 
down his naked boy. He was really in pretty good shape for a man of sixty, 
not too fat, with his skin smooth and warm and lots of muscle tone. These 
days, what with the rage toward jogging and interest in still only 
half-hard. He was plenty sexed up his penis just didn't know it yet. She 
stopped her action. She meant to tease him until either he died or got a 
hard-on. 

"Turn over," she ordered. 

She crawled over his back and kissed down his flesh once more. He undulated 
his loins against the smooth sheets, pleasing himself and making happy 
sounds. Well, if he wanted to jack off on the bed and throw it while she 
hot-nibbled his back and that was his way of obtaining joy, she wouldn't 
stop him. It had begun to look like he was no easy case. 

She came to his buttocks, which were incredibly smooth and firm for a man of 
his age. She grooved her pink tongue down his crack in a daring gesture, 
surprised by her own boldness. 

"Oh, Shirley, that feels so good," he cooed. 

Fascinated, her heart pounding a little, she pried apart his cheeks. He was 
terribly clean, absolutely gleaming. His pink seam looked absolutely 
polished. His ass pucker looked innocent and harmless, as if it didn't know 
that it was the guardian of his most private function. 

On impulse, she sank her tongue right down on his sphincter and reamed it. 

"HAH! AHHHHH," he went. "OHHH, THAT IS SEXY!" 

He lifted his loins and she felt under him. His cock had gotten hard! 

Thrilled, she jogged it gently while she continued to eat his asshole, 
running her tongue Over his sensitive entrance and digging at the strong 
muscle with her probing tongue. 

"OH, CRAZY. CRA-ZEEE-NOBODY EVER-DID THAT!" he cried. 

His rod was as hard as any she'd ever felt. She was sexed up herself now. 
The touching, stroking and loving of male flesh, no matter what the age, was 
a turn-on for her. Her cunt had swelled and begun to flow, her nipples were 
hard and tight with hot feeling and her nervous system was charged up with 
bitch heat. She ate his pucker for a long two minutes, locking his hips, 
testing his cock and it stayed fiercely hard. She knew that some men were 
annaly oriented and wondered if she'd stumbled onto his secret. 

"I'VE GOT IT NOW. I'VE GOT IT NOW!" he cried. "LET'S DO IT, DO IT." 

Quickly he spun onto his back while she mounted his hips. His face glowed in 
ecstasy. She I took the stiff prick and fed it between her legs to her hot, 
receptive cunt. 

"AHHHHHH," she went, as his cock violated her. 

"OH, MY GOD-MADE IT!" he cried happily. 

He began to thrust up into her, both of them holding their breath to see how 
the temperamental blade would act. The delicious strokes made her I belly 
sing. In and out, deep, powerful, rich, went his rod. 

"YOU CAN F-F-FUCK AS GOOD AS ANY MAN!" she cheered him. "Oh, baby, so 
grateful!" They rose and rose, thrilling and then suddenly it was gone. She 
felt less pressure on her excited clit. He gave a great cry of 
disappointment. "I'm fading!" 

"Reg!" She tried to fuck him faster to restore his shriveling member in her 
cunt. There were hot moments when she thought he had hardened again But, no, 
his cock became softer and softer until it slid out of her cunt, red and 
swollen, but too rubbery to make good contact. "OH, NOOOOOO," he moaned. 
Aroused, high, but hung up by his failure, she swallowed back the tinges of 
anger she felt. He had warned her. 

"What do we do now?" he asked. "We relax," she sighed. "Then we can start 
all over again." 

They laid there not doing much, but in close body contact while he covered 
his own disappointment by asking her about her own life. They talked about 
sex and she found herself telling him of some of her experiences of recent 
weeks, leaving out names, of course. As she toyed gently with his 
still-swollen and congested but rubbery rod, she related that wild time with 
Irma's husband. She described how Frank had tried to get it off between her 
buttocks without going in. "He didn't really want to shove it in my body, 
you see," she said. "But he lost out on that. He got too hot and he had to 
shove it right up my poor little butt hole and gun off. That was the 
weirdest experience I ever had with a man, I think." 

Reg's cock began to dramatically harden. 

It hit her in a flash and she got so excited she could hardly control her 
breathing. She kept talking about Frank and how he'd played with her 
buttocks and greased her crack and how his prick felt rubbing over her glory 
hole. Reg was definitely getting a hard-on. 

"Well, that's interesting," he said. "Some screwed up guys are really 
degenerate. I'm glad I'm not like that." 

She squeezed his hardening prick and went for broke. She put her lips to his 
ear. 

"ASS, ASS, ASS," she whispered. "YOU'RE CRAZY TO FUCK DEEP IN MY HOT ASS." 

Two things happened. "Oh, no, never!" he cried in horror. His penis had 
other ideas, once more opposed to the mind that ran it. It hardened right up 
in her fist, the blood gushing into the muscle to make it stand firm. 

"Come on, Reg," she insisted. "You want to get that wounding prick down 
around and under my sexy buttocks and fuck my asshole open until I scream." 

He'd begun to sweat. "Oh, Shirley, Shirley." 

She trembled herself, but was swept alonq h this new sexual possibility. 

She got out of the bed and stripped off her s|j which she'd kept on up until 
now. She padded ove to the dressing table, giving him a full view of ^ round 
behind with everything quivering ancj working as she moved. 

"We need something to help us. Vaseline, cold cream, anything." 

There was only some hair oil, so that would have to do. She went back to the 
bed, feeling hot fear tingles and a tightness in her bottom, to realize what 
she had let herself in for. 

"Oh, Shirley, I'm not like that. I can't face that." 

She got on the bed and looked him right in the eye. 

"Maybe you don't like it-but that's where you are, Reg. Look how you've 
stayed hard, just looking at my butt and thinking about it. Have you ever 
had anal sex." 

"Never," he groaned. "But I have thought about it a little. I tried it on my 
wife once when she was alive and she really blasted me. I haven't thought 
about it since." 

"Nonsense," she laughed. "I noticed it tonight without even realizing how 
important it was. Your eyes followed several nice girl fannies around the 
room. You're crazy to fuck a tight female ass." 

"Isn't that a little-homosexual?" 

"If a girl's body makes you hard, it can't be homosexual. Maybe hostile to 
women a little, yes. your pleasure, their pain. But if you can throw a qood 
anal fuck you can probably relax and do the other. We'll find out." 

She really didn't want to do it-and at the same time was crazy hot to do it. 
Imagine having a guy force his hard thing right up that tight, tender little 
channel and lay his hot stuff deep in you, in the forbidden place! 

They became absorbed now in their new game. She laid nude, face down on the 
bed, with her rounded rear end exposed to him. He began his play 
tentatively, stroking her smooth, young buttocks and feeling a little way 
into her crack. She had her head turned to one side and could see his belly. 
That big cock was rock hard, eager to plunge into that sexy heaven it 
thought her ass to be. She had to shiver in fear. It was going to hurt, that 
was for sure! It was also for sure she'd found a way to give him a hard-on. 

"Oh, baby, you've got a sweet, sexy bottom," he enthused, as he began to 
give in to his letch. He kneaded her buttocks, almost pinching her flesh in 
the process and kissing the soft, pliable skin. It was true that her round 
little bottom was just about as good as you ever saw, with twin, shapely 
moons which were neither too fat nor too slim, just meaty. Her dark crack 
seemed to beckon him with thrilling suggestions of the tight hole it covered 
and the pleasure to be gotten by forcing that secret entrance. 

He used the oil now and she gasped as the slick stuff prepared her. He 
fingered her cunt as he worked, trying to ease the shock that was to come He 
crooned happily. 

"Yeah, always wanted to try it-right up in you-deep, stretching that muscle, 
ramming it in." 

"Just do it," she begged. She gripped the pillow to steel herself against 
the outrage to come. Men might have problems with their pricks, but not the 
problems women had with those same pricks. Yet her body was excited with the 
anticipation of feeling this new form of sex. Nothing that one consenting 
adult did to another could be all wrong. 

He got behind her and she came up, crouching, her legs folded under her to 
give him access to her rear. He greased his cock now. Then she felt the tip 
of it pressing on her tight-locked sphincter. She could not command it to 
relax. Instead, she instinctively tightened it against the unwelcome 
intruder. 

"Never make it that way," he gasped. "Are you still hard?" 

"Like a rock," he said. He put a finger on her asshole and opened her. 

"NYAHHHHHH," she grunted in animal distress as her sphincter had to peel 
back for the violation. It made her jump and it hurt, but the pain wasn't as 
great as the feeling of tenderness and vulnerability. Oh, it was 
embarrassing to have another human feel up inside your asshole. She felt him 
grease her tunnel and that moving finger seemed to her to probe against the 
tenderest, most hurt-prone part of her entire body. Yet those nerves 
thrilled and even her cunt thrilled to have her body unsealed. 

He pressed her sphincter back cruelly, lost now jn his own excitement with 
this new experience for him as well as her. He watched his finger sink into 
her asshole and felt high delight at seeing the opening give way for him. 
The heat inside of her body was intense and the grease gave her a sexy 
slickness. His cock throbbed to get into that deep gut channel. 

He spread her cheeks and placed his blade once more on the corrugation of 
her hole. The spade-shaped head dug into the soft muscle. She yelped and 
locked, but he pressed a thumb on his erection, near his belly and oozed 
forward. 

There was a wild moment of struggle, she trying, in spite of her desire, to 
keep out his invader and he driving to violate her. Then as he watched 
fascinated and felt the warmth and tightness of her sphincter, she gradually 
yielded to his manhood. He cried out in excitement as he saw the big spear 
head vanish into her body. Her hole retracted and he felt the warmth of her 
inner body. 

"SEX-EEEEEE!" he cried. 

He kept pressing into her watching, feeling his eager blade disappear into 
her body. The oil helped now, feeling slick and rich on his member, God she 
was tight! The soft walls seemed to clutch around his probe with a more 
velvet firmness than with a cunt. The flesh was stiffer, less yielding to 
penetration. That resistance made him absolutely ecstatic. 

"Oh, Shirley, you've got a velvet little bottom that loves its virgin fuck." 

She didn't agree with that. The first invasion of his finger had been bad 
enough. The prick violation was something else again. It seemed like her 
sphincter could never pull back enough to admit that fierce maleness and her 
hole throbbed, burned and ached as he slowly unsealed her. Pain rose in her 
belly and coursed through her buttocks. She had to clench them against the 
unnatural action he forced on her. 

Deeper ... deeper ... the thick prick dug into her guts, hot and hard 
against her sensitive tunnel walls, while she gasped for air and felt a 
little dizzy from the punishment of her taking. 

"Don't-know-whether I can-s-stand," she stammered. 

It didn't matter. He was on his own trip ramming his cock up her gut and she 
had to take the burning, aching fire that it laid on her. She squirmed and 
shivered at the weird feeling of anal action. 

He pulled her up from her crouched position. He got a hand under her breasts 
across her front and sent another down between her legs to find her cunt. 
Locking her tightly in this embrace, he began a slow fuck up her asshole and 
to her it felt like his cock had plunged six feet into her body. 

"Never-felt anything so good-" he moaned. He was in complete command again, 
the executive getting it off, reaming in and out of her body and giving 
himself sweet friction pleasure from her tight anus. 

At first she almost died from the pain and humiliation of servicing a cock 
in this fashion. She was not to be permitted to hate it, she found. He began 
to jack off her cunt and she had to respond to that. Her sphincter got used 
to the stretching and the pain eased. The slick feel of that intense meat 
messenger knifing into her guts began to thrill her. Men's desires turned 
women on and he wanted her so badly that he gasped and panted like a 
fuck-crazy dog on the street. 

"AHHH, THIS IS CRAZY," she crooned. "NOT SO BAD NOW. AH. UH, UH, UH." 

His driving prick made her teeth chatter from the hot, thudding action on 
her body. He began to bite into the soft skin around her neck, controlling 
her whole body as he cornholed her and she began to melt into taken, bitch 
heat. 

"YOU-YOU-YOU-GOING TO TEAR ME APART!" she gasped. 

"MAKE YOU-LOVE IT," he insisted, going faster. 

She thrilled now, partly because of his finger in her cunt on her clit, 
partly because the pain was gone and partly because he was so intent on 
planting his seed deep inside her body. That was the purpose of woman, at 
least in a carnal sense to tease a male prick inside of her body and squeeze 
off its juice. She found that she could squeeze down on his blade with her 
sphincter as well as with her cunt muscles. Each time she did he cried out. 

"Sexy!" 

She gave into her anal violation with a rush. "FUCK MY ASS!" she cried. 
"REAM IT OFF-DEEP-OH, I'M GOING, GOING." 

Her whole body responded to the ass fuck. She had already been heated up by 
the foreplay, much more than she normally got. She had also enjoyed the 
privilege of taking the lead. Once the pain of being ass-taken faded, she 
went right on up, to level after level of excitement and now it all spilled 
over for her, locked in Reg's arms and completely fuck-dominated-in her 
asshole! 

"AH, REG. AH. GOT TO GO!" she cried. 

She went weak. Everything swelled and burst and she felt sweet explosions of 
sexuality throughout her body, quaking her empty cunt on his fingers and 
making her sphincter throb on his plunging prick. 

"ONG, ONG, ONG," she grunted like some pig in a mud-wallow giving him her 
total surrender. He clutched her tighter. 

"OH, SWEET DOLL. GO, GO, GO." 

She twisted her hot, sweating body in his arms, paying him the massive 
tribute of a wracking, pleasure-soaked orgasm. He felt her go against his 
fingers and cock, delighted to find that the asshole made its wild spasms 
just as the cunt did. From him it was the sweetest moment of the past two 
years. Until now his love life had been absolutely rotten and then, in one 
hot trip, he had reduced a luscious young woman to total submission with a 
driving cock as hard as iron. 

She went on paying off for him, moaning and quivering, making her runs of 
throbs. 

"REG, YOU MELTED ME. I'VE-NEVER-NEVER BEEN SO-AH-EEEEEE." 

Once again he bit into the soft skin of her neck and felt her whole body 
shiver and jerk as she gave up every ounce of her erotic being. That was 
only the beginning of his reward. He felt the sweet rising pressure of his 
own masculinity. He forced his cock as deep as it would go into her ass 
tunnel and locked. 

"OHHH. MEEEEEE!" he sang. 

He felt that golden, precious moment when his muscles stopped, everthing for 
the aching and delicious seconds before discharge. Then he went. 

Spurt, spurt, spurt. Powerful gushes of relieving jissum burst in her gut. 
She jerked and quiver h some more to feel the hot sex explosion, receivi his 
full bursts in her tender tunnel. He groaned ' exquisite ecstasy held her 
tight and shuddered off shot after shot of precious fluid and joy, th 
breaking of the tension and the waves of relief making him give a humorless 
laugh ofrexultation 

"YOU'RE-TAKEN-BABY," he keened. 

For the first time he could remember his hard cock had throbbed several 
pleasure spasms even after all his molten liquid fire had been expelled. It 
was as if it wanted to make up for all the misfires of the past and never 
stop exploding again. 

At last he released her to roll on the bed in high good humor, laughing and 
cheering. 

"I did it! You found the way. All that time-l wanted ass play. Didn't dare 
admit it. Oh, oh, oh. I can do it all now. Fuck or cornhole. It's like 
starting all over." 

Weak and exhausted, her tail beginning to burn now from the rough, unusual 
violation, she still felt proud. 

"Your cock always knows," she laughed, patting her buttocks that were a 
little sore from tensing. "Never trust your mind." 

"Don't worry, Shirley. With a sweet ass like yours around I don't expect any 
more problems for a while." 

 Chapter Eight 

It was September. Doris Thatcher and her mother sat in a small, poor 
apartment in a section of Miami that was being gradually turned into a part 
of the South American community, mostly Cuban. They drank coffee and stared 
glumly out on the grubby street. Since her divorce, things had gone from bad 
to worse for Doris and her mother. Once again her mother had lost her job 
because they'd hired a person who was bilingual and Doris herself had had 
her hours cut back at the discount store where she worked. 

"We'll have to go back to Chicago," said Mrs. Singleton. "At least I have 
friends there. Sooner or later I can get a decent job and get you one two. 
We can take care of Connie between us." Connie was Doris' young daughter. 

"Mom, Shirley has left Chicago. She'd gone, disappeared, God knows where." 

"Sooner or later she'll contact friends we have there." 

"I hope so. Mom. She was always too tomboy took chances. I never thought it 
wise for her t' drive a taxi." 

"Doris, Shirley's all right. It's the poverty that grinds us down. The stink 
and pain of it, doling out pennies, worrying night and day, hating to see 
the sun come up. It's that feeling that we'll never get out, none of us. Not 
you, not me, not Shirley none of the kids. The other night when I took my 
sleeping pill I almost swallowed a handful instead. | would if it wasn't for 
you, Shirley and the kids." 

"Well, Mom, there's welfare. We can turn to that." 

"Another mean, miserable way of existing. God I hate to be poor!" the older 
woman said. 

A large, black limousine cruised down the street, very much out of place in 
this poor section. The older woman and younger woman stared at it 
indifferently. To Doris such vehicles belonged to a world on another planet. 

"Some rich guy looking for a hot Latino girl for sex," said Doris with 
contempt. 

"One thing you can be sure of," said Mrs. Singleton bitterly. "You and I 
will never ride in such a car." 

The vehicle drew up in front of their small, dowdy apartment building. A 
smartly-uniformed chauffeur stepped out. He wore a gray uniform, complete 
with black boots, puttees and a military coat. His cap was set at a jaunty 
angle. But there something odd about his chest, his hips and legs. He looked 
womanish. In fact, HE was a woman, as the two watchers realized as he walked 
up the sidewalk to the building. 

"Why, that's a woman chauffeur!" cried Doris. 

"Great God, it's Shirley!" cried Mrs. Singleton ... 

Shirley drove them in the purring, customized vehicle as the two women sat 
in the back seat in awe and wonder. 

"I drive for a wealthy electronics manufacturer from Arizona," she told 
them. "His name's Harris and he decided to spend one winter in Florida. He's 
never been much in the East." 

Connie, the little girl, bounced on the back seat as Shirley's mother and 
sister continued to spray her with questions and exclaim in awe at her 
sudden appearance in this new situation. 

Shirley told them that, with the help of the rich man, she had been able to 
trace Irma and her son, little Joe, to Atlanta. 

"You'll get a surprise when we reach Mr. Harris' rented mansion in Bal 
Harbour," she told them. 

"But, Shirley," her mother said, "it's all so quick. A few weeks ago you 
drove for a cab company in Chicago and lived with Kathy and had a private 
detective looking for Joe. Then we couldn't reach you on the phone. We got 
no letters. Now here you are-" 

Shirley told them that it had happened as quickly for her as it was now 
happening for them One day she was called into the cab company office-and 
there was Mr. Harris. She'd met him months before at a convention. 

"He's a lonely old man, quite wealthy. His family are all distant relatives, 
interested in his money, but not him. He tried to fill his hours working for 
his company, where he was actually no longer needed." 

She told them that he'd become interested in her problem with little Joe and 
given her some money, even before he left Chicago the first time. "He came 
back, deciding not only to help me, but to travel South and look for new 
business opportunities while I tried to find Irma and Joe in Atlanta. Irma 
went there to look up another Chicago friend, Joe Kellar, that you don't 
know." 

She found Joe Kellar, Irma and little Joe with Mr. Harris footing the bill 
and then Harris decided that they should all move to Miami for the winter. 

"He bought this car and hired me as his personal driver way back in Chicago. 
That was comfortable for us both." 

Shirley looked in the rear view mirror at Doris' face and saw the shock and 
knew that Doris knew what the arragnement was. Mom would never face such a 
thing. 

When she drove into the rented mansion, her mother and sister were even more 
impressed. It was a huge stone edifice that looked like a miniature castle, 
surrounded by a lawn and shrubbery extensive enough to be a park. 

Shirley drove them around to the rear to a smaller building that was only 
three stories high, but of the same stone as the castle. 

"Servant's quarters," she said. "Here's where we park the car and here's 
where I live." 

The apartments over the garage were sumptuous by middle class standards-and 
air-conditioned. 

"Oh, Shirley, this is magnificent," said her mother. 

"Wait till you hear the rest of my plans," grinned Shirley. 

First came reunion time. Mom met Irma again and there was a tearful exchange 
as little Joe and Kathy rushed into the arms of the grandmother they hadn't 
seen for so long. Connie, only slightly older than Shirley's Joe and Kathy, 
soon romped happily with her cousins. A smiling and affable Joe Kellar met 
Mom and Doris for the first time. Shirley watched big Joe's eyes in 
amusement as he looked over Doris. Doris was only a couple of years older 
than Shirley, almost as good-looking and as voluptuous. The living room of 
the apartment was filled with laughter and chatter for over an hour before 
Irma announced that Doris and Mom were to meet Mr. Harris over in the big 
house and then return here for a reunion dinner. In the meantime, Roy 
Dawson, Irma's son, came in to join the children and the noise, to Shirley, 
sounded like a small convention. Shirley hugged herself j happiness. This 
was the culmination of the good luck that had happened to her back in 
Chicago on that summer day when Mr. Harris suddenly appeared at the Regency 
office and changed her life at once and forever. Now she'd brought everyone 
together and they were all here in Miami well before the first snow fell on 
Chicago. 

Shirley and Joe took Mom and Doris across to the big house to meet Mr. 
Harris, leaving Irma in the apartment kitchen. Doris and Mrs. Singleton were 
properly awed by the small, white-haired man and the large house and 
listened in awe as he told them his Miami plans. 

"I've bought a small record store here in town to be run by this foolish 
young man from Chicago who tried to run a store like it in Atlanta, with no 
capital and a lot of nerve and almost succeeded. We'll need people. There's 
already Irma and if the two of you are interested we could make it a family 
operation-Shirley's family, that is." 

He told them there'd be places for Doris and Mrs. Singleton, since he was an 
admirer of Shirley's and thought any of her relations would be good risks. 

"I have other irons in the fire that'll keep me busy in Miami. I'd have no 
objection to all of you living the apartments in the servant's building 
until we sort things out. My own needs and staff, are small. It would be a 
good environment for the children." 

They all trooped back to the servants' building for dinner with Mom's eyes 
glowing and Doris walking like a person in a happy dream. 

"That," Shirley told them, "are the plans for the first winter down here." 

Joe Kellar took Shirley aside while the other women fussed with the dinner 
and the inevitable task of shepherding the children together and getting 
them seated. 

"Are you really going to do it? Doris looks pretty stuffy." 

"I'm really going to do it. Did you see how Reg eyed my sister?" 

"You," laughed Joe, "are one split personality-the warm family lover and the 
sex maniac." 

"You help, we'll try," she answered. "The idea is to hit Doris while she's 
still dazed ... 

Reginald Harris sat at his place at one end of a mahogany dining room table 
twenty feet long. The cook-maid brought him his dinner on silver serving 
platters and with a sigh he filled his plate. 

"Would you like the TV set on, sir?" 

"No, no thanks. I'll be fine." 

He sat there in magnificence and silence after she retired, a small man and 
his meal overshadowed by the huge draped walls, the long table and the dozen 
empty chairs. It was so quiet in the room that he could hear the grandfather 
clock in the corner ticking. The only sign of life in the vast room beside 
himself was the telephone, its bell cut off, but the white lights flashing 
as calls came in for him and the message service took them. The phone had 
been his only companion for a long time and up until recently, it had been 
enough. He took about four bites, muttered in disgust and stood up. He 
carried his plate out of the magnificent, lonely room through the serving 
pantry, through the kitchen past the startled cook-maid, who sat eating with 
her houseman-gardener husband and on out into the yard. He crossed to the 
servants' building. 

As he climbed the stairs he heard the clatter of sound and his face 
softened. Inside the apartment Shirley's group ate dinner in a dinette space 
not much larger than the size of his baronial dining table in the other 
house. The sound from the walls was almost a roar as the four children and 
five adults filled the room with warmth and life. There were Little Joe, 
Roy, Kathy and Connie. There were big Joe, Irma, Doris and Mom and Shirley. 
It was hard to tell whether the children or the adults made the most noise. 

With a happy sigh, he seized a beat-up chair and eased himself into a place 
at the table, with his plate of food. The group became silent as he sat down 
with them. 

"I will fire you all," he said darkly, "unless you continue to make all that 
ruckus of sound I heard when I came up the stairs." 

There were whoops of laughter, cheers and a certain amount of screaming from 
the children. Mr. Harris smiled happily, began to eat and confided to Mrs. 
Singleton on his left that he thought they all might have a good first 
winter in Miami ... 

"I can't do it," said Doris. "I just can't." 

She lay in the middle of a big bed in the main house. Her pajama top was 
open and there was a stain between her legs on her pajama pants where Irma 
had been stimulating her. Irma ran her hand over Doris' silken belly, only 
to be stopped by Doris' hands. 

Shirley, naked beside her sister, kissed her lightly on the lips. 

"We think you can do it, dear." 

She slid a hand inside her sister's blouse to palm one of the girl's big 
breasts. Doris's nipple was a hard, hot tip in her palm. 

"Oh, stop this!" cried Doris in agony. 

Irma, who wore only her bra and bikini panties, turned Doris' head in her 
direction and kissed her on the lips. 

"Think of your child. Connie's future." 

Shirley turned the head back to her side. Doris' hands had gone up to 
protect her full breasts, which gave Irma the freedom to reach down again 
and stroke that rich cunt they were trying to awaken. Doris groaned as 
Shirley kissed her on the mouth again, this time using an impertinent tongue 
to slip between those sensual lips. 

"Sis, think of Mom. What all this means to her." 

She forced the tip of her tongue into her sister's mouth and felt a 
thrilling tickle. Doris pulled back. 

"I am thinking of it-but-to use my body-oh stop that, Shirley!" 

"When you've been poor," said Irma, "you use everything, Doris. Your body, 
your brains and your soul." 

"And you're dirt poor," murmured Shirley back on the soft breasts. 

"I can't stand the idea!" cried Doris. "I can't give into sex to please the 
old man." 

"You'd use it to please a nobody," laughed Irma. "A young man with no money 
and no prospects. You have to give your love somewhere and you have no man 
right now." 

"It's not like being beat with sticks," said Shirley. "It feels good with 
most men. Reg is a great lover and he doesn't need it every day." 

Doris threw up her hands. "I can't believe it. My own sister, practically a 
whore." 

Shirley laughed. "Come off it, Doris. We have the same hot blood. I used to 
think like you do. I feared sex. I found out it's luscious and I want a lot 
of it. The difference between you and me is that you think about it and I do 
it." 

Irma got off the bed. "I've got to go see Reg," she said. "He's waiting in 
the next bedroom." 

When Irma was gone, Shirley crawled on top of her sister. She put a bold 
hand on Doris' breast, as lush and rich as her own and began to squeeze it. 
She pressed her hot, wet cunt on Doris's pelvic ridge and began to undulate, 
spreading her cunt lips and wetting Doris' pajama pants with her hot juices. 
She held Doris' head with her free hand and used her soft, lascivious lips 
on Doris' mouth. The shaken sister had to yield to hot kisses. Her breasts 
were wild with the fire the two women had started in her. In spite of 
herself, she began to rub her cunt against that of her younger sister. 

"Oh, Shirley, we're sisters," she cried in distress. 

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," crooned Shirley, driving the soft, warm girl under her. 

"Not with my own sister!" moaned Doris. 

Shirley's answer was to suck Doris' tongue out of her mouth and lave it as 
if it were a prick. "Any time. Anywhere," she gasped. 

Doris was so hot that she wanted to jump out of her skin. It had been a long 
time since she'd had any sex and it was true that those banked fires and her 
intense inner sexuality had been long blocked. She was overdue for love and 
was overdue for orgasm. She began to quiver and moan. 

Shirley felt dizzy with delight to feel Doris succumb to her animal needs. 
As she'd suspected, her sister was the same hot bitch underneath that she 
was. The kinkiness of being loved by her own sister added flames to the 
fire. That voluptuous body was really hot now. 

There was a wild, shocking moment when Shirley peeled down Doris' pajama 
bottoms. 

"You wouldn't-dare," breathed Doris. 

"Probably not," laughed Shirley. 

She put a warm hand on Doris' belly and brought her head down to inhale the 
musk of the excited woman. Doris' cunt was swollen and very wet. It was like 
a great wound that had to be sealed and healed with orgasm. She put her 
mouth on her sister's cunt and drove her tongue into the sexy, pink flesh. 

The idea of being fucked and taken by her own sister's hot tongue drove 
Doris crazy. It was so outrageous to risk this lesbian contact that she went 
lust crazy. She seized Shirley's head and began to ride off her cunt on that 
demanding, probing tongue with huge animal grunts. 

"OH-I'VE GOT-TO DO IT. IT FEELS SO GOOD! OH, OH, OH." 

She gyrated her loins in delicate but carnal delight, rocking, rocking, 
while her belly thrilled to a maddened state of rapturous pleasure. 

"AH,MEEE.OH,OH,OH!" 

They hung for a long, golden minute in exquisite lock. It was as if the two 
women had conspired against Shirley's hot, reluctant cunt, driving it into 
an impossible corner to make it surrender. Then Doris came with a cry of 
pleasure, falling over the edge with hardly any freeze. 

"HAH! HAH! HAH!" she gasped. 

Her cunt thrilled and throbbed under Shirley's tongue as she gave up her 
total womanhood, crying in shock, relief and sheer ecstasy. Shirley held her 
tightly and made her pay off every ounce of orgasmic energy, reaming and 
sucking and squeezing, her own pulse pounding at the feel of that sexy, warm 
body dying its sweet sex death. 

Doris finally fell back, sweating and moaning. 

"Shirley, Shirley. What's wrong with me? What's wrong with us? We're 
sisters-and we had lesbian sex." 

Shirley pulled back, trying not to laugh. She'd come to understand the 
enormous urgency of the sex drive in herself, in Doris and Irma and lots of 
other people. 

"It isn't as good as a cock, dear sister, but it'll do till the real thing 
comes along." 

Shirley led her naked, still hot sister, who was in a daze into Reg's 
bedroom. Irma had been sucking the old man's cock to keep him hot. His rod 
gleamed with silken saliva and looked red and fussed and ready. These days 
Reg Harris had little trouble with hard-ons. 

They eased Doris face down on the bed. Harris looked down on her delicious, 
naked ass and shook his head in wonder. Shirley had a perfect ass, luscious 
for cornholing. Doris had the same perfect lines and fullness, but was a 
touch more voluptuous. He rolled his eyes in appreciation of having the 
three naked women as his harem, then got on the bed behind his virgin 
victim. 

"I'll stay and help," Irma whispered. 

Shirley nodded and withdrew after giving Reg's ready cock a quick squeeze. 
She went back to the other bedroom, but stood in the shadow of the doorway 
watching. She heard Joe Kellar move up behind her and sank back in his arms 
as the naked young man hugged her from behind, kissed around her neck and 
began to feel her up. 

In the next room, Irma had greased Doris' crotch and then got in front, 
facing Reg down the body of the girl. Irma slid her legs under Doris' 
shoulders, bringing her belly close to Doris' head. 

"My God, is Doris going to lick off Irma?" whispered Joe. 

"She'll need something to hold onto," said Shirley. "While his cock works 
below, it's better for her to have a soft, wet cunt to bite than a pillow." 

Joe's big cock crept between Shirley's legs. She bent over, breathing hard. 
She felt the delicious touch of hard cock probing for cunt opening. He 
notched into her cunt lips with that swollen prick, his own breathing 
excited. 

"UUUUUUU." 

"OHHHHHH." 

Easily, with supple movements, she admitted him as he fucked into her 
driving that glorious feeling blade up her cunt tunnel. They heard grunts, 
cries of protest from the other room. Doris' face was buried in Irma's naked 
belly. Her rump was canted up and Reg had locked to her and violated her 
virgin asshole. 

Joe crouched a little and drove his excited prick up Shirley's belly as they 
both watched. 

"Will she be able-ohhh-to take it?" asked Joe. 

"She's my sister. When the first pain goes and he strums her cunt a little 
she'll fly like a jet." 

"Isn't it kind of dirty to pull your sister into all this wildness?" asked 
Joe. 

"One orgy won't hurt her. Not one-uuuuuu, that feels good! Not one assfuck, 
not one cunt suck from another woman. Not even one spot of incest. If she 
digs it, she's got security, stability and plenty of fun. If not, she can go 
back to her apartment and her struggle. Why shouldn't I try to give her the 
option?" 

Joe laughed. "You just like sex, sex in all its forms, anywhere anytime." 

"Don't we all? I'll bet a million she does, too. Anyway, she gets a chance 
to find out." 

They began to plunge faster, hotter while they watched the action in the 
other room. Doris squirmed under the anal penetration and clutched Irma's 
thighs and Reg held her, slowly driving his cock up her butt to enjoy the 
full play of her hot tunnel. 

Joe bent over Shirley with a groan of pleasure. "He's crazy, you're crazy 
and I'm crazy," he said. 

"Look! Look!" cried Shirley softly. "Doris is eating girl cunt. He's got her 
hotter than sheet flame. She has to work it off-she's reaming Irrna like 
mad!" 

It was true. In her distress and excitement, the wounded girl had seized 
Irma's thighs and sunk her face into the muff of the blonde. Irma's head 
flew back in ecstasy. Reg could see all this action while servicing his own 
hot prick in Doris' tight ass. The three of them locked together, moving 
faster and faster in luscious pleasure. 

In this bedroom, Shirley and Joe fucked faster, moaning a little. But they 
weren't yet up to animal heat. 

"You'll kill the old man this winter-" Joe laughed. "Three hot, young 
women." 

"Two," said Shirley. "I'm quitting Mr. Harris." 

"What?" 

"I told you that. I love the freedom and adventure of driving a taxi. As 
soon as Doris and Mom are set and happy, I'm going to hire out with a Miami 
cab company and go back on the streets. It's the only life for me-new faces, 
new things-new action all the time. Reg doesn't need me that much." 

"Shirley, Shirley, you've changed." 

"I see through the lies these days, Joe. Like you lying about having a wife 
in prison and a kid-just to worm your worm into my pants. You were never 
even married, you lying cock." 

Joe laughed. "Well, I did work for a union and I 

do love you in my own way." 

"Now give me a new thrill," she commanded. "Take it out of my belly and put 
it in my rear." 

"What?" 

"You heard. I want to make the same trip Doris has to make." 

Panting in excitement because he'd never dared try it, Joe took his richly 
wet prick out of Shirley's cunt, explored her tight ass button and managed 
to violate her. She gave a deep animal groan, then shivered as his cock 
began its anal work. Over on the bed Doris rocked in sublime joy under the 
bruising anal drive of Reg's lust-bloated prick. Her pain was gone. Her lust 
had taken over. She ate Irma's cunt and worked her butt happily on Reg's 
sturdy organ. She had started her own new sex education and both her lovers 
grunted, moaned and laughed happily. 

But Shirley went on up into her own private world of animal lust, driving 
for orgasmic satisfaction, panting, grunting, working her loins, 
reaching-reaching-freezing-enjoying the eternal ecstasy of the luscious, 
exploding cunt throbs. 


End
