Bedroom News
by Ted Mann
(LLP-930)


CHAPTER ONE 

Linda Gibson was just finishing her review of a current motion picture when 
she was summoned to her boss's office. 

The brown-haired young woman was in a somewhat bad mood to begin with, 
considering the fact that the film she had viewed had disappointed her 
greatly. The leading man had been one of her favorites, and she had even 
interviewed him one time when he had come to San Francisco to plug one of 
his pictures a few months earlier. She had found him charming and would have 
liked very much to have given his film a favorable review. Instead, however, 
she had gone to see a very crassly done comedy, one in which the director 
and screen writer had sought desperately to achieve laughs by utilizing 
inferior material and then repeating it time and again. 

Linda was in the last few paragraphs of her review when Jimmy, the young 
copy boy, came to her. 

"Linda, Ted wants to see you," he said. 

"Can it wait a few minutes?" she said with just a tinge of exasperation. 

"I'm afraid not," young Jimmy shook his head. "From that expression on his 
face, it's damn important." 

"Well, then I guess that covers that," she said. 

She sighed, easing her body up from her chair. Young Jimmy's eyes were 
asparkle as he stared at the well-built beauty with the chestnut-colored 
hair. Linda Gibson was a knockout by any standard, and young Jimmy, a 
college journalism student who was working as a copy boy at The Bay Globe, 
was most appreciative of everything she had to represent in the way of 
feminine beauty. 

It made Linda more than a little uncomfortable to observe the manner in 
which Jimmy would gawk at her. Now he was staring at the voluptuous cleavage 
of her firm breasts, which pushed against the material of her white dress. 
As for her legs, he got a view of her ankles and a partial view of her 
thighs as her dress rippled in a self-generated breeze for several moments 
as she got up from her chair. 

His eyes then took in the shapely contours of her firm, fleshy buttocks. He 
envisioned what it would be like to see her completely stripped, standing 
totally nude in a bedroom, her beautiful legs extended, showing off her 
shapely ass globes. 

Finally his eyes riveted on her face. He loved the long chestnut-colored 
hair that she wore to her shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling brown, very 
alert. She had a tiny nose and thick, sensuous, red lips. He also loved her 
complexion, a creamy white, which seldom ever changed in that she had lived 
all of her life and was continuing to live it in the cool climate of San 
Francisco Bay. 

Linda resented being gawked at as a sex symbol. It was one of the big 
reasons why she had obtained a divorce from her husband Neal, who was a 
rapidly rising TV commentator in the Bay area when they had met. 

Even though there were no more than about five years separating Linda from 
young Jimmy, she often had the distinct impression that, from a practical 
standpoint, it was more like a decade, if not more. He was still staring at 
her as she turned and began walking toward her boss's private office. It 
disgusted her that his eyes would remain focused on her until she was 
completely out of view. How she would have liked it if he had just been a 
little less obvious in terms of how much he was excited by her. 

"Oh, Linda," he called out to her when she was just a few feet away from the 
door to her boss's office. 

She turned and curiously stared at him for a moment. 

"I just wanted to ask you something," Jimmy said, grinning with a certain 
forceful air as a means of releasing tension. 

"Yes." 

"I'd sure like to take you to lunch today. How about it?" Jimmy asked. "I'm 
free in another hour." 

"No thank you, Jimmy." 

"You might be beautiful, Linda, but you're as cold as an iceberg," Jimmy's 
eyes dropped with disappointment. 

"I'm sure sorry, Jimmy. I just happen to be busy." 

"I know. Busy. Busy. That's all I hear. You're always busy." 

Jimmy threw his hands into the air with disgust and walked away. Several 
people in the office began to snicker and laugh. Linda hated that. Even 
though she did not like the idea of young Jimmy constantly bugging her, 
neither did she like the way that certain people were making fun of him over 
the obvious manner in which he was perpetually falling on his face when it 
came to trying to make time with the shapely young movie reviewer of The Bay 
Globe. 

As for the paper itself, it had undergone quite a change in the last few 
months. At one time The Globe, which had its office in an old building on 
Market Street, had been one of the proudest and most popular papers in the 
Bay area. In the course of the last few years, however, based upon the fact 
that it did not have the budget or the circulation as did some of its more 
successful competitors, coupled with the tremendous inroads that television 
news had made in the city, it had been forced into a terrible position. It 
was the kind of unenviable position which caused its managing editor, a 
hard-nosed veteran newspaperman by the name of Ted Monday, to" completely 
change the newspaper's image. 

That was what she had hated so much. Rather than operating in the realm of 
high level journalism, something for which it had been known through the 
years, The Globe had turned more and more into a tabloid covering activities 
in and around the San Francisco area. 

As for Linda, she had been doing very well as a news writer for the same 
local station for which her husband Neal had worked. As a matter-of-fact, 
that was how they'd met. During the almost two years that they were married, 
Neal had made a meteoric rise. Playing office politics to the hilt and 
behaving as charmingly as possible, Neal had received a series of promotions 
so that he was able to move from the copy-writing section of the station all 
the way up to becoming a co-anchorman. 

It was when the station was also desirous of promoting the shapely, 
beautiful Linda that he took offense. They wanted to make her the weather 
girl on the same news program in which her husband worked, and after the 
suggestion was made Neal hit the ceiling. He became irate just thinking 
about his wife working on the same show and perhaps generating even more 
attention. 

"The whole damned thing's a male chauvinist stunt," he drunkenly fumed late 
one night when discussing it with his wife. 

"What makes you say that?" she asked with great surprise. 

"Oh, hell. I know how it is with these weather girls," he snarled. "They'll 
wanna put you in one of these short little outfits. Nice tight-fitting 
slacks, maybe, to show off the shape of your ass." 

"That's a damned crazy thing to say," she snarled. "I'm sure that isn't 
true. Indeed, this station has a very conservative reputation. They wouldn't 
be trying to put on any kind of skin show or sex show. Would it be too much 
for you to believe that just maybe they want me to have this job because 
they think I'm qualified? After all, I paid my dues just like you did. I 
worked my way up the ranks. If you could do it, why can't I?" 

He stood there in the center of the living room for several moments, taking 
a long swig from his bourbon, then erupted. 

"Because you're my wife, damn it, and because you'd be better off staying at 
home," he snarled angrily. 

"So that's it," she said. "I thought this other stuff was a dodge. Trying to 
tell me that they'd be using me for a sex symbol. Actually the opposite is 
true. Isn't that right, Neal?" 

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Neal shouted, practically 
at the top of his lungs. 

"I think you know very well what I'm talking about," she told him calmly. 
"Here you are, the young man about town. A modern-day version of what makes 
Sammy run. You work your way up into a prominent position at a studio and 
your poor wife isn't supposed to even get crumbs. I've worked awfully hard 
in the last few years. Remember that. I started working at this station when 
I was in college. Doing all kinds of odd jobs. Is there something wrong with 
a woman working her way up the ladder of an organization?" 

"You're damned right there is, as far as I'm concerned," Neal exploded. "Why 
the hell don't more of you stay home?" 

"You never acted like this before, Neal. Especially when you wanted sex." 

"I'd like more of that and less of this runnin' around," he snarled. "Aw, 
hell, I'm goin' down the street and have myself a few drinks. With the boys, 
mind you." 

She could never forget that night, and how she had burst into tears of 
desperation and frustration once that he had left their apartment. It 
bothered her a great deal to see her marriage toppling. If Neal had been the 
kind of man who had even explained his situation in a different way, perhaps 
she could have understood it. But at bottom she felt that the problem was 
one of Neal being exceedingly jealous, and of not wanting to see her obtain 
any recognition at all. 

Her contention was bolstered in the weeks that followed. Finally the rocky 
period, which was characterized by Neal staying away for long periods of 
time, sometimes all night, culminated with a call from a girl friend of hers 
at the station. u 

Young Janie Briggs told her how important it was for them to meet and 
discuss something in private. 

Immediately Linda suggested lunch, which Janie declined, explaining that it 
would be better if they just met for drinks instead. So they met at a bar 
adjacent to Chinatown, at which point Janie, with sorrow in her eyes, 
revealed about Linda's husband Neal's activities in the course of the last 
few weeks. It wasn't until she had several drinks, enough to loosen her up, 
that she was able to tell it all without any compunctions. 

"The guy's the most notorious skirt chaser at the entire studio, honey," 
Janie laid it squarely on the line. 

Janie, a skinny, bespectacled young woman with a hawk nose, was known for 
her integrity. She was the type of person who, if she spoke, you could 
definitely count on. Had it been anyone else, Linda probably would have 
tried to engage the person in an argument, at least for her own ego's sake. 
Instead, she sat there staring blankly at Janie, listening to her reveal the 
graphics. 

"I hate to do this, you don't know how much I hate it," Janie said. 

"Go ahead, Janie," the beautiful Linda replied in a low, subdued tone. 

"It's like a compulsion with him," she said. "It's been worse the last month 
or two." 

"That I can understand. We've been having pretty rocky times." 

"Oh, yes. like he got you to quit the station." 

"That's right. I could have had that job doing the weather like nothing." 

"It hurt me when you didn't take it. When you decided to quit the station." 
"I was only trying to save my marriage." "I know, but I'm afraid it hasn't 
saved anything," Janie said. "Oh, I'm sorry, Linda. I'm feeling so terrible 
telling you all this." 

"Somebody's got to. Go ahead. Don't think anything more of it." 

"Well, he's been running after just about everybody. Oh, there are a few 
girls he leaves alone. They're the girls who he knows are good friends of 
yours. Anybody he figures might be inclined to repeat something back to you, 
well, he'll pass on that person. But everybody else he's moving in on very 
fast." 

"Poor Neal. He's about as frustrated as any man could ever be," Linda shook 
her head slowly, staring out the window of the bar in which she was sitting 
and observing the people briskly walking down the sidewalk. 

"The hell with this poor Neal bit," Janie snarled. "I'm more concerned about 
you. You can't put up with this creep the way he's acting." "I'll have a 
talk with him." "I should hope that you would. Just one thing. Please, don't 
reveal your source. I could be exposed as a trouble-maker or something by 
some of his friends at the studio and then I'd be out on my ear." 

"Don't worry. I'll bring it up in such a way that I'll get him to admit that 
he's been playing around. Then we'll have our little confrontation and see 
where the marriage is going from there. But thank you very much, Janie, and 
don't feel funny about any of this. After all, you were trying to help, and 
I understand it." 

"That's what friends are for," Janie said as tears began to surface in her 
eyes. "I'm still sorry about having to reveal it. It wasn't easy. Not at 
all." 

"I know it wasn't. Thanks again." 

That evening she waited up for Neal. He did not arrive home until after two 
in the morning. When she asked him why he was arriving so late, he snapped 
at her and revealed that he had an important conference with his bosses at 
the station. 

"Is that really what it was?" she challenged him. "Is that why you're late 
so many nights? Sometimes you don't even come home? What kind of a fool do 
you think I am, Neal?" 

"Okay, okay, I've been getting a little," he exploded. "Why the hell can't 
I? You're buggin' me all the time." 

Linda then exploded. She referred to Neal as being a selfish little brat, 
somebody too childish to hold down the position he had, and who, through his 
own insecurities, was trying to project his frustrations to her. 

That evening he moved out of their apartment. After that it was just a 
question of time before the dissolution was secured. 

Neal left San Francisco a few months after their dissolution became final. 
His drinking and erratic behavior cost him his position at the station. The 
last accounts she heard he was working as a disc jockey at a rock station in 
Salinas. 

As for herself, she knew she had to become productive, and so she took a job 
with The Bay Globe. It bothered her greatly that, in the course of the time 
she was at the paper, under the guidance of Ted Monday, the paper had 
switched its format from what she considered to be a high-classed, 
responsible level of journalism, to what she viewed as a sleazy tabloid, 
seeking out headlines by exploiting sex and violence in a blatant and 
crassly commercial way. 

Now here she was, knocking on the door of her boss's office, wondering just 
what Ted had in mind. Was he going to chew her out about something? 

Nervously she knocked on his door. 

"Who is it?" he asked in his typically booming voice. 

"It's Linda," she replied. "Jimmy said you wanted to see me." 

"Yes, come in. Come in right away," he told her. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

As the shapely, brown-haired beauty stared out the window of Ted Monday's 
office and down at the unfolding panorama of busy Market Street below, she 
couldn't help but think that her level of frustration had reached its 
highest peak since the breakup of her marriage to Neal. 

She had thought that she was being called in to listen to a complaint from 
Ted. Several times during the course of the last few months, when she had 
knocked certain motion pictures, she had listened to complaints from him 
over how advertisers pushing those particular films had called up and 
indignantly read him the riot act. On those occasions she had explained that 
she was not an advertising puff artist but a reviewer, and hence she had to 
exercise her powers of observation in terms of evaluating a film for what it 
was, and not for how much advertising was being taken out on behalf of that 
particular film property. 

However Ted had had a completely different purpose for calling her into his 
office. 

"I just received word from Nora Greer's doctor," Ted Monday said with a tone 
of solemnity, puffing nervously on his omnipresent cigarette, then running 
his fingers through his heavy shocks of curly gray hair. 

"How is Nora?" Linda asked anxiously. 

Linda Gibson, like all the other people who worked in the editorial office 
of The Globe, loved Nora Greer deeply. She typified the mother image of the 
newspaper. A widow in poor health, suffering from acute arthritis and 
drinking heavily, Nora was at one time one of the top society columnists in 
all of Northern California. She won numerous awards, but her drinking 
coupled with her developing instability relating to it prompted her to be 
sent from one newspaper to another. Finally Ted Monday decided upon a 
purposeful use for her. What with The Globe developing more and more into a 
tabloid sheet, she decided to utilize her powers of imagination and 
brilliant writing to spawn an advice-to-the-lovelorn column. She took on the 
identity of Helene North, author of the column 

Helpful Helene. Even though she received few letters from people actually 
asking for advice, and of those she did receive, a number of them were from 
kooks and cranks, Nora's brilliant creativity and exceptional writing skill 
caused Helpful Helene to become a winning column, one that caused the 
circulation of The Globe to increase enormously in a short period of time. 
The sickly widow, writing most of the time from her own apartment, would 
turn out lengthy letters from fictitious readers, after which she would then 
draw up an appropriate response to whatever the problem from which they 
suffered. She would call the paper whenever she was finished and young Jimmy 
would dutifully climb in his automobile and drive out to her apartment to 
pick up the copy. 

A few weeks ago Nora had become very ill, which necessitated 
hospitalization. Everyone at The Globe was very anxious to find out just how 
she was doing, and now Ted apparently was ready to provide Linda with some 
information. 

"She's not doing very well, Linda, I'm sorry to say," Ted Monday told her. 
"As a matter-of-factj she has to move out of the city. She needs complete 
rest, has to be away from alcohol altogether, and she needs a warm climate. 
She's got a sister and brother-in-law in Phoenix. Her doctor told me that 
that would be the perfect ticket. The sister could look out for her and see 
that she behaves herself as far as the booze is concerned. Because that's 
out. She absolutely can't drink anymore. It's forbidden. And also she'll be 
in a nice warm climate. If she'd gonna be nursed back to health, that's the 
way it has to be done." 

"Is she gonna be able to continue her column from there?" Linda asked. 

"No, she certainly isn't," Ted Monday shook his head regretfully. "I covered 
that with the doctor. Of course, first of all, from our end there'd be a 
terrible deadline problem. I was thinking maybe we could just run her on a 
weekly basis or twice a week rather than every day. Then I flirted with the 
idea of her maybe phoning her column in, providing that wouldn't be too much 
of a burden for her. But the doctor stopped me short before I could ask 
anymore questions. He said that any kind of pressure, writing of any kind, 
would be too much for her right now. She's in a bad way, Linda, and she just 
has to take it easy." 

"I see. So Helpful Helene has now come to an end." 

"No. That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he explained. "I'd like to 
have you take over the column." 

Her head spun. 

"Me take over the column?" she stared at him dumbfoundedly. "I hope this is 
some kind of a joke." 

"Am I laughing?" 

"I mean, I've never had an experience writing anything like that." "Neither 
had Nora." 

"Well, at least she'd been a society editor. She picked up a lot of tidbits. 
That's what she used to tell me. She was drawing on a lot of real life 
experiences. On top of that she was a lot older than I am and she had a lot 
more experiences to relate to, things that she'd heard about. I joined this 
paper as a movie reviewer and that's what I want to continue to do." 

"Linda, I'll tell you something," Ted leaned forward, speaking to her in a 
low, confidential tone. "If we lose Helpful Helene, it just might be the end 
of The Globe. Our circulation's been picking up steadily ever since we 
started that column, but before that, even with all these different gimmicks 
that I've employed to try and increase circulation, they had all failed. We 
were close to rack and ruin for a long time. Nora Greer's column was the 
only thing that picked us up. Helpful Helene has been our salvation." 

"What makes you think that I'm the one to save it?" 

"Maybe we've had our differences of opinion on a few things," Ted said, "but 
you've never heard me accuse you of not being a good writer. I never would. 
I recognize talent when I see it. You've got a tremendous creative flair, 
Linda. You should go far in this profession, provided you just develop one 
trait." 

"What's that?" 

"Flexibility. That's what you need, honey. If you just develop that I think 
you're gonna be okay. I know this is quite a challenge to you, but it's 
something you can do. For one thing, Nora was industrious enough to have a 
whole file that she did." 

"A file?" 

"That's right. Standard types of responses to certain kinds of questions. It 
was like a regular working outline for her. It made it a whole lot easier. 
She had a great organizational mind. Well, I've got this locked in my desk 
here. I can let you look at it. It'll give you more of a feel for this whole 
thing. What I want you to do is just take a week off to go to school, so to 
speak. I want you to look over her little working file, and I want you to 
spend some time in the library going over every column that she wrote." 

"I just don't know that I can do it. More than that, I think it would run 
against my grain. I hate this type of thing, even though I respected Nora. 
Actually I think she did, too." 

"No question about it," Ted Monday said. "As a matter-of-fact, I hate it 
myself. I'd like to turn out a nice intellectual journal, something on the 
order of what we had going here for years. But you know what happened?" 

"Our circulation dried up," Linda sadly admitted. 

"That's so right, my dear. That's precisely what happened. So now it's up to 
you." 

"I feel an awesome weight of responsibility." 

"You can handle it. That is, provided you look at it the right way. As I 
said, Nora's file will be extremely helpful. Then if you just go down there 
to the first floor and just go through the old papers in microfilm. Study 
very closely every column that she wrote. You'll pick it up. As a 
matter-of-fact, in the beginning I don't care just how closely you want to 
even resemble her style. That is, until you develop one of your own." 

"If ever," she sighed. 

"You will, honey. I've got confidence in you." 

Ted Monday gave Linda an affectionate fatherly pat on her shoulder. It did 
nothing, however, to relieve the feeling of nervous tension that suffused 
her entire body. Just how could she get into such a predicament? she asked 
herself as she slowly climbed to her feet. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

When it was time for Linda Gibson to do her first column, she arrived bright 
and early at The Globe office, arriving even before Ted Monday. 

By the time that Ted arrived, she was already hammering out the final few 
words of her column. She walked with trepidation into Ted's office, handing 
him her material, which he read slowly, after which he looked up at her and 
grinned. 

"I knew you could do it, Linda," he nodded. "Not bad at all. A very good 
beginning. It's believable. That's what I like about it. It's not as 
polished as Nora's stuff was, but what the hell. She'd been working at it 
for a while. Yeah, I like it. I'm glad that we can get Helene back into 
circulation again. Having to run that stuff in the paper about her being on 
vacation and all. Well, that's good, honey. Keep up the good work." 

By Linda's standards she hadn't done all that much. She had written a 
letter, attaching a fictitious name to it, in which a man was seeking some 
advice as to his problems with his wife in bed. She had finally copped out, 
telling him to go and seek medical advice, but providing him with a pep talk 
along the way, something on the order of what a high school football coach 
would tell his team when it was trailing at half-time: keep your chin up, 
don't get discouraged, that sort of thing. 

Linda felt both trapped and depressed as she walked back to her desk. The 
mailman had brought the morning's mail. She sighed, opening a few letters 
and reading them, discovering they were from obvious cranks. She realized 
that there was nothing in what she'd read thus far that would provide her 
with any kind of meaningful material. She then opened a large package, 
which, it turned out, contained a long, typed letter which was signed by 
every male member of a junior college class in San Jose. The letter was 
obviously poking fun at Helene North and her column. Those who had signed it 
were of one firm opinion: namely that Helene North needed a good stiff cock 
shoved up between her legs. 

The sarcastic letter signed by all the young men at the junior college in 
San Jose was the last straw as far as Linda was concerned. She burst into 
tears of frustration, tore up the letter, and stuffed it into her waste 
paper basket. She realized why it had jarred her to the extent that it had. 
Linda knew only too well that she was badly in need of a man, in need of 
what a man could provide her, namely some seven well-timed inches of hard, 
tumid cock flesh slamming into the compliant folds of her warm, enticing 
pussy. 

Linda knew that she was as much a man-trap as any female in San Francisco. 
All she had to do was walk down virtually any street and she would receive 
more than her share of admirers. As of late she had even abandoned her 
noon-time walks because of the fact that she had been receiving so much in 
the way of crude talk and gestures from hungry, leering males. In 
particular, she did not want to walk in Union Square any longer, since, on 
the last few occasions, she had become exceedingly angry listening to the 
spontaneous comments of the hungry males who stared at her. 

In spite of being a highly beautiful woman, however, she also considered 
herself exceedingly selective and cautious. Certainly she was not the type 
of woman who was about to get drawn into sex just for the sake of sexual 
activity alone. She had thought that Neal was a very high-classed and 
intellectual man, and that had drawn her to him in the first place, but 
later she had found him to be a completely different sort. He had 
effectively misrepresented himself to her because he, too, had been 
exceedingly drawn to the beauty of her face and form. It wasn't until he 
felt his ego challenged by her very presence that he had withdrawn from her 
sexually. 

She walked into the rest room, her hands trembling, tears continuing to roll 
down both sides of her face. Fortunately, she realized, she was the only 
person in the office now. The two men who worked across the desk from her 
were on a coffee break with Jimmy, and the kindly woman who did the society 
column was taking the morning off to go to the dentist. 

As she stood in the rest room, at the wash basin, her hands still trembling, 
applying a wet towel to her forehead, she thought about the early stages of 
her marriage to the handsome and aggressive Neal, who had provided her with 
such excellent sex. 

She closed her eyes and envisioned his sturdy hands running against the firm 
warmth of her fleshy breasts. 

"OOOHHH, WHAT TITS, WHAT FANTASTIC TITS," he would pant. "OOOHHH, I LOVE 
SQUEEZING THEM." 

"COME ON, DARLING. OOOHHH, LET YOUR FINGERS CLUTCH AGAINST THEM," she sighed 
breathlessly. "COME ON, OOOHHH, PUSH THEM. PUSH THOSE FINGERS. OOOHHH, 
HONEY, GIVE ME A GOOD SCREW." 

She listened to the sounds of Neal's heavy panting, then extended her sleek, 
magnificently sculpted legs, watching as he shoved his hard, fervent cock 
into the clinging depths of her tightly clasping pussy. 

"OOOHHH, YOU'RE SO TIGHT," he grunted. "COME ON, OOOHHH, NOW SHAKE THAT HOT 
BUTT, HONEY. COME ON, OOOHHH, MOVE YOUR ASS IN HIGH GEAR. OOOHHH, I'M GONNA 
FUCK YOUR PUSSY. OOOHHH, WHAT A FANTASTIC CUNT." 

His fingers had clutched and twisted against the warmth of her succulent 
breasts for a little while, and now Neal reached down and let his fingers 
clench against the warmth of her twisting, resolutely gliding ass cheeks. 
The harder that his fingers pressed against the compliant folds of flesh, 
the harder that his throbbing cock pushed pulsatingly as it worked its way 
into the tight inner depths of her clasping vagina. 

"OOOHHH, IT'S SO GOOD," she grunted. "OH, DARLING. OOOHHH, YOUR HARD, STIFF 
PRICK. IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME. OOOHHH, OHHH, THERE I GO, OOOHHH, THERE I 
GOOOOO." 

Her sweat-stained thighs tremored and her satiny buttocks glided 
rhythmically from side to side as she exploded her pussy juices, enjoying 
the hotly throbbing sensations of his stinging cock, which continued to 
detonate her back and forth with insistent, forceful thrusts. 

His fingers continued to sharply cling to her firm ass cheeks as he pummeled 
her with is stiffly protruding cock. A few rapid-fire thrusts later, he 
could no longer hold back the flood tide of phallic juice that had to 
explode from the end of his pulsating spear. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, THERE IT IIISSS," he sighed. "OOOHHH, BEAUTIFUL. OHHHH, 
KEEP YOUR BUTT TWISTING. HONEY, OOOHHH, THAT'S IIITTT." 

She looked down and observed the hotly splashing drops of his thick, white 
sperm cascading from the tip of his mammoth cock head and into her pussy. He 
then finally withdrew his steaming cock from her vagina, after which he 
affectionately threw his arms around her and delivered a sturdy kiss to her 
lips. 

Now she slowly opened her eyes, feeling a measure of dizziness. There was no 
Neal, and she was not lying in bed. No, she was only fantasizing about the 
way that things once were, when she could count upon steady sexual activity 
with her husband. 

She noticed that her entire body was continuing to tremble, but in a 
different way than before. She had broken out in a sweat just thinking about 
the good old days, when she was enjoying sex on a regular basis with Neal. 

It took her a few minutes to regain her composure, after which Linda then 
left the rest room, returning to her desk. 

There were just a few more letters to read. She opened them one by one, 
tossing them into the waste paper basket. Then finally she reached the last 
letter. When she did her heart began to palpitate. 

She read the letter very closely, giving it a thorough reading, then 
beginning" anew. Linda kept wondering if, with an additional reading, she 
would suddenly conclude that the letter's author was putting her on. With 
each additional reading, however, she could not help but conclude just the 
opposite. 

The letter stated: 

Dear Helene: I have read your column regularly for the last two months. It 
has given me great strength and consolation to see that there is apparently 
at least one woman in this cold city who cares about people. About men. 
Particularly a man like me. Some four months ago my life for all intents and 
purposes came to an end. My beautiful wife Mary left me after two years of 
marriage. I tried to tell myself that I could pick up the pieces of my 
shattered life and that things would get better. This is what everybody 
would tell me, at any rate. But it was a lot easier said than done. Instead 
I've gone through four jobs since then, never able to hold one, being too 
damned unstable. The reason is always the same. I find myself thinking about 
Mary and the good times we had together. You probably get a lot of letters 
like this. There's just one thing that separates me from the others. I'm a 
hell of a lot more crushed because there was a tremendous depth of feeling 
between myself and my wife. I just don't see any reason to go on living. I'm 
just about to end it all, but before I do I would like to be able to talk my 
problem over with somebody I feel might be understanding. Therefore, I'll be 
calling you on Monday. We'll talk on the phone then. 

Very truly yours, Carl. 

Linda kept on staring at the letter, reading it over and over. It was 
Monday, the very day that he would be calling. She could not talk to anyone 
like this. What could she ever say to him? The man obviously needed help, 
the kind of assistance that she could never hope to provide. As she 
continued staring at the pathetic letter from Carl, she was interrupted by 
young Jimmy, who had walked quickly over to her desk and was staring down at 
her. 

"You look like your mind's a million miles away," Jimmy said. 

"Just daydreaming, I guess," she replied. "What is it, Jimmy?" 

"There's a guy who's calling you on the phone," Jimmy said, scowling, his 
voice heavily laced with regret. "I didn't know you'd been holding out on 
me." 

"What is it, Jimmy? I'm not in any mood for joking." 

"like I said, it's a guy. He sounds damned weird. Says his name is Carl. 
Says you'll know what it's all about." 

"He wants to talk to me right now?" her face became suddenly pale and her 
lips began to quiver. 

"That's right. So what's the big deal about it? He sounds weird, real weird. 
You oughta go for somebody less weird. like me, for instance." 

"I guess I've got to talk to him," she gulped. 

"You don't have to." 

"No. I'd better." 

"Whatever you say," he shrugged. "He's on line five." 

She nodded, quickly picking up the telephone. She heard a distant, tragic 
voice on the other end of the line. 

"This is Helene?" he asked. "That's right." 

"This is Carl. I've got to see you. See you at my place right now. You can 
see me, can't you?" 

"I really can't, Carl," she replied quickly. "You see. I'm working right 
now. I've got a column to prepare for tomorrow. On top of that, I'm expected 
to spend so many hours on the job. I guess you can understand that." 

"Yeah. But I guess you can understand what I'm telling you, too. I'm just 
about to end it all. I mean, the only thing I can't decide is just how to do 
it. I've got this handgun that I've bought. I've got it loaded. All I've 
gotta do is pick it up and kill myself with it;" 

"My God, don't do anything like that!" she shrieked. 

"Then I've got these pills here. That might be easier. Just take a whole 
bottle full of 'em, swallow 'em, then go to sleep. Yeah, that would take a 
little longer than the other way, but it would be easier on me. I don't 
know. I keep goin' back and forth. Sometimes I think it. would be better 
just to shoot myself." 

"Look, you need help, you need help badly," she replied in a steadily rising 
voice. "But you don't need to talk to me. I just write a newspaper column. 
What you need is to talk to a doctor." 

"I know, a shrink, a shrink, that's what you're suggesting," his voice 
became suddenly hostile. "You all talk the same way. I thought I could 
expect better from you. Well, if you're not even gonna sympathize with me, 
then what the hell. I might just as well do away with myself. I was thinkin' 
there might be one person out there who'd listen." 

Suddenly the magnitude of the moment seized the beautiful brunette. Linda 
realized that it might indeed be a matter of life and death, and that 
perhaps, by saying a few kind words to Carl, she could talk him out of 
taking his own life. 

"Okay, I'll help you in whatever way I can," she told him. "What is it you 
want?" 

"Come over and see me. Right away. Can't you get away for a little while?" 

"I suppose so. I've got a certain amount of independence with this job, 
anyway, and I can always come back later and do my column. Where do you 
live?" 

"On Lombard. Just a few blocks from Fisherman's Wharf. You know where that 
is?" 

"Oh, sure. I'm a native of San Francisco. On top of that my apartment isn't 
that far from there." 

"Good. I'll give you the address." 

As she jotted down the address of Carl's apartment, her newspaper instincts 
suddenly began to take over. Perhaps there was something she could salvage 
from this terrible dilemma, apart from maybe saving a man's life. Maybe she 
could write up the experience, and that indeed would be a human interest 
story, something certainly far above the phony gimmickry of the column 
writing that she and her predecessor Nora Greer had been engaging in. 

"I'll see you in a few minutes, Carl," she said. 

"Thank you. I appreciate it, really I ao, Helene," Carl replied. 

As she hung up the phone she suddenly realized that she was sweating more 
profusely than ever. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

The address of Carl's apartment was in a comfortable middle-class section 
not far from Fishermen's Wharf, not lavish but certainly nice. She rang the 
doorbell, hoping that he had not in the meantime decided to put an end to it 
all. 

She could not help but breathe a sigh of relief when the door opened and she 
was staring at the handsome, sensitive face of a blonde-haired, slender 
young man in a robe and slippers. 

"Helene?" he eyed her with a certain measure of surprise. "That's right." 

"Gee, I didn't have you pictured like this." 

"How did you have me pictured?" she asked as he opened the door wider and 
let her enter his apartment. 

"Well, older for one thing," he said. "And ... well, not this beautiful." 

"Does my appearance bother you?" Linda asked as she sat down in a chair in 
his small but comfortable living room. 

"Oh, no, that's not it, that's not it at all," he shook his head. "It's just 
that I'm surprised. I didn't have you figured that way. But I'm not 
disappointed, and I'm sure as hell not bothered. Say, can I get you 
something? Coffee? Tea?" 

"No, that's all right," she shook her head. "I'm here to talk to you." 

"Okay, then we can talk." 

As the young man began to restlessly pace the floor, Linda recognized that 
something was happening to her. Something that she would have never 
anticipated. Through this young man's vulnerability, combined with his 
boyish handsomeness, she began feeling a certain wave of sexual attraction 
for him. She began to cross and uncross her sleek, lovely legs, and suddenly 
she began to observe waves of desire beginning to flow from her crotch, 
those telltale, itchy sensations of a woman who was definitely in heat. 

Even though he looked exceedingly boyish, and she could not help but think 
of him as a boy, Carl revealed himself to be thirty-one years of age, five 
years older than she was. As he kept on revealing more and more about 
himself, particularly the way that his wife had left him, she felt like 
throwing her arms around him. 

"Mary was such a good-lookin' woman," he said, "but I'll tell you something. 
I think you're even prettier than she is. I didn't think I'd ever say that 
about any woman." 

"Why thank you, Carl. I really appreciate that." 

"I mean it. You're gorgeous, Helene." 

"Say. I might as well tell you something. My name isn't actually Helene. 
That's the name that we use for the column. My real name is Linda. Linda 
Gibson." 

"Hey, I like that name. My last name is Royster." 

"Carl Royster. I like that name, too," she smiled. 

"Anyway, Mary was damned sexy. She had a body kind of like yours. Oh, I'd 
say that you've got a better ass than she has. Your tits are bigger than 
hers. But she had those same gorgeous legs like you've got. She was some 
kind of woman, always in demand and always stood out wherever she went. 
Well, I was doing pretty well in this job that I had for this insurance 
agency. But then I just hit this slump period, where everything kind of 
seemed to go wrong. I knew I'd get out of it, but I was embarrassed all the 
same. Then it happened. Oh, damned, it was terrible." 

"What's that?" 

"One night Mary and I went to a party. I'll never forget that night. She got 
infatuated talking to this professor. Big shot at one of the leading 
universities in the Bay area. Anyhow, he not only was a professor, but he 
wrote books as well. Makin' big money. Lived in a nice penthouse apartment 
in Nob Hill. So what happened? Well, he had the hots for Mary. She figured 
that he was older than I was and doin' a hell of a lot better economically. 
So the son-of-a-bitch stole her away from me. I thought about killin' him so 
many times. You know, that's why I bought this handgun." 

He gestured toward a table at a far end of the room, where she saw a handgun 
resting next to a bottle of pills. 

"Don't ever think of using it," Linda told him. 

"Oh, no, I got over that," he shook his head. "At least the part about using 
it on him. I might use it on myself, though." 

"Don't even consider that," she shook her head. "Don't consider using it at 
all." 

"Anyway, one-night I waited outside this imagine-looking Nob Hill apartment 
building. I waited there in the cold, waiting for them to come back. I guess 
they'd gone to a concert, movie, dinner or something. So there they were, 
walking arm-in-arm into that apartment building. I was gonna blow the 
son-of-a-bitch's head off, but then I got to thinking, why pick on him? I 
figured that it took two to tango, as the saying goes. Then for a second I 
thought about shooting both of them. I figured it just wasn't logical to do 
it any other way. But I couldn't bring myself to shoot Mary, as treacherous 
a little bitch as she turned out to be. So I just turned and started running 
down the street, sobbin' my eyes out. Fortunately there wasn't anybody else 
around, otherwise they would have thought I was nuts." 

"Fortunately you didn't kill anybody." 

"Yeah, I didn't," he shrugged. "Anyway, actually when I called you, I was 
still figurin' on puttin' an end to it all. Now I feel kind of different. 
Talkin' to you has made me feel a whole lot better." 

"I'm glad." 

"You are beautiful, damn beautiful," he gulped. "Can you come with me into 
the other room. There's somethin' I'd like to show you." 

"Sure," she replied. 

Carl had restlessly led her down a small hallway. The next thing she knew he 
had opened a door and she had entered his bedroom. He closed the door 
quickly behind him, drew his drapes shut, and stood just a few feet in front 
of her, staring into her sparkling brown eyes. 

"What eyes you've got," he said. "They say the eyes are the window to the 
soul." 

"What is the meaning of this, Carl?" she asked, a little fearfully. 

Despite the fears that were tugging at the beautiful brunette, however, she 
still continued to feel those quivering waves of titillating sensation in 
her crotch. He had interesting eyes of his own, deep-set blue eyes, and they 
were staring at her with acute intensity. 

Carl Royster said nothing. Instead she observed him undoing the sash of his 
robe. He pulled off his robe, then kicked off his slippers, standing before 
her in nothing other than a pair of white boxer shorts. 

"Carl, I just don't understand the meaning of this," she said. 

But even as the words were tumbling from the brown-haired beauty's lips, 
Linda understood only too well. Seconds later Carl closed the distance 
between them, wrapping his arms around her body. She liked the slim lines of 
his magnificent blonde form as his arms clutched tightly around her body, 
pressing her breasts against his chest as he shoved his tongue forward, 
allowing it to dart with piston-like determination inside the wetness of her 
mouth. 

Back and forth his tongue charged restlessly against hers, and she never 
even made a pretense of fighting him. She wondered if perhaps she ought to, 
considering the fact that he was behaving in an exceedingly bold manner. She 
had only known him for just a few minutes, and now here he was, inviting her 
into his bedroom and completely taking charge of her with his strong arms 
and his stiffly pistoning red tongue, which kept on stabbing with wild 
determination as it worked restlessly against hers. 

Once that he withdrew his tongue from her mouth, Carl took Linda by surprise 
again. He reached down and made a grab for the elastic waistband of his 
boxer shorts. He pulled and tugged, sliding them down his slim but muscular 
legs, then stepping out of them and extending his legs, peering down at the 
hugeness of his fully erect penis. 

"I've got a damned good wanger, they can't take that away from me," he 
laughed. "Not Mary, not that damned professor, nobody. Just take a look at 
this long, proud cock. Ain't it a good one?" 

"Oh, yes, Carl. You have a handsome cock. A fantastic-looking cock. You're a 
fantastic-looking man as a matter-of-fact." 

"Oh, honey, it means so much to hear something like that from you. The most 
beautiful woman I've ever seen." 

"Come on now, dear," she laughed. "I'm sure that's not true." 

"But it is," he sharply insisted. "Hell, yes. You're the most beautiful 
woman I have ever laid eyes on. I thought that Mary used to be, but no way. 
Uh-uh. You're more beautiful than she is. That's one of the things that's 
made me feel so damned much better about everything. Right from that second 
that I stared into your eyes. I thought it would be just somebody to talk 
to, one last conversation before doin' myself in. But now I feel damned 
powerful, like I can whip the whole world. You've made me feel that way, 
sweetheart. Now reach out there and just touch my cock. It'll mean so much 
to me to have you jerking up and down on it. Come on, pump those fingers 
real nice, honey. I wanna feel 'em clutching against my prick. Up and down, 
honey. Come on, move your fingers." 

By then he was panting and gasping, and beads of perspiration were beginning 
to form on Carl Royster's forehead. His eyes widened as he stared at the 
beautiful brunette, who was reaching out with both hands and making a firm, 
insistent grab for his cock. 

She could not help but be overcome by it all. Never in her life had she ever 
come on like this with any man. She recalled that, even in the case of Neal, 
a man toward whom she'd always been attracted, and a man she had eventually 
married, she had behaved in a somewhat shy manner when she first met him. He 
had behaved in a semi-bold way, trying to get her to go out with him from 
the very beginning, but at first she spurned his efforts, disdaining his 
aggressiveness, even though she liked him. Now here she was, grabbing hold 
of the turgid tip of this young man's hard, erect cock, preparing to run her 
fingers up and down its entire length. 

Soon, as her heart continued to sharply palpitate, her fingers clutched 
against the rubbery base of his solid erection. Up and down her fingers 
resolutely pumped as she worked them against the blood-engorged stiffness of 
his blue-veined spear. The faster that her fingers frantically pumped as she 
worked them up and down the full length of his stiff organ, the louder that 
her gasps became. Up and down she kept on resolutely pumping, and as she did 
he called out active encouragement. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, I LOVE THE WAY YOU'RE STROKING," he gasped. "COME ON, 
OOOHHH, FINGER ME, DARLING. YES, OOOHHH, PUMP YOUR FINGERS AGAINST MY HARD, 
STIFF PRICK. SWEETHEART, OOOHHH, I LOVE IT. YES, OOOHHH, OOOHHH, IT'S SO 
NICE. YES, OOOHHH, AAAHHH. OOOHHHH, OHHHH, I LOVE III-TTT. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, 
OOOHHHH, FINGER MEEEEE." 

His hot, frantic pleas only served to excite her that much more as her 
stiffly pumping fingers continued to grind against the tumid warmth of his 
stiffly agitated cock. Finally she decided to surprise him, and she reached 
down with both hands, letting her fingers pump and slide as they worked 
against the warmth of his inflamed testicles. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, MY BALLS ARE ON FIIIIIRE," he told her, his body rocking 
back and forth as he stood with his legs widely extended. "COME ON, OOOHHH, 
KEEP YOUR FINGERS PUMPING. YES, OOOHHH, HONEY. I LOVE IT. LOVE IIIITTTT. 
OOOHHH, OHHHHH, DO IT TO ME. YES, DO IIIIIITTTT." 

The tighter that she squeezed his testicles, the greater the feeling of 
power that Linda felt. She loved the idea of letting herself go with this 
young man, and suddenly she, too, was beginning to feel considerably better 
than she had in quite some time. She could not help think it ironic that she 
had gone to see Carl as a means of preventing the seemingly inevitable, 
namely discouraging him from taking his own life. But now there they were, a 
couple of panting lovers. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Linda Gibson's fingers clutched and thrust enticingly against Carl's balls 
until the panting young man could stand it no longer. 

"Oh, damned, turn loose now," he grunted pleadingly. 

The brown-haired beauty released her fingers from his testicles, watching as 
the panting young Carl moved toward her quickly. In a flash his arms were 
reaching out and clutching sharply at her body, pulling and tugging at her 
waist. 

"I'm gonna toss you down on that bed," he sighed. "I wanna see that 
beautiful body of yours completely naked." 

With that he threw her down on top of the bed, on which she landed with a 
loud thud. He reached down and began to immediately remove her dress. At 
first she bucked and writhed, having been completely taken by surprise by 
this panting young sexual madman, but she down deep realized that she 
actually wanted to be stripped by him, dominated by him, to enjoy the 
ravages of uninhibited sex with young Carl Royster. 

Linda could see what was happening to her. There would have been a time when 
she would have screamed rape as loudly as her voice could have shrieked 
under these circumstances, but no longer. Instead she found herself being 
swept away into a whirlpool of sexual passion. She could scarcely comprehend 
the ungovernable forces at work, that were causing her to enjoy more and 
more the spectacular excitement of which she was becoming an indelible part. 
She could see that the period of depravation that she had really forced upon 
herself in the aftermath of her breakup with Neal was now coming back to 
haunt her. Now that she had a panting young man who desperately wanted sex 
from her, she was really in no mood to refuse. Several times she thought 
about crying out, of at least affording some token resistance, but the words 
would not tumble from her lips. No, she realized, they would not tumble from 
her lips for the simple reason that she honestly and truly wanted to be 
dominated by young Sari. 

As he began to pry off her dress, she couldn't help but think about the fact 
that in many respects they were both alike. They had been left by their 
respective spouses. They both were in an extremely distraught frame of mind 
sexually, and each of them needed some release. The look in Carl's face when 
she had arrived at his apartment was one that she could never forget. Nor 
could she forget the voice she had heard on the telephone. He was acting 
very much like a man who was dying of thirst in the desert, frantically 
searching for an oasis, and she supplied the oasis in this particular 
instance. Her stunning body and beautiful face had set this horny young man 
off in a tizzy, and he would not know any rest until he had succeeded in 
achieving the ultimate in sexual conquest. 

After finishing prying off her dress, he then reached out with both hands 
and let his fingers go to work on the straps of her filmy white brassiere 
top. After tugging and twisting a few times, he quickly tossed her bra 
aside, after which he reached down with both hands and let his fingers tug 
insistently at the warmly compliant flesh of her sleek, white, alabaster 
breasts, which stared up at him enticingly like two large cones. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, WHAT A GORGEOUS SET OF TITS," he exclaimed. "OOOHHH, DO I 
EVER LOVE PLAYING WITH THEM. DO I EVER LOVE SLIDING MY FINGERS OVER THOSE 
HOT, MAGNIFICENT BOOBS." 

His fingers kept pushing and twisting against the warmth of the snowy white 
flesh. They looked like two gigantic mountains, and he loved the idea of 
completely taking charge of things, of grinding his fingers with relentless 
zeal as they pushed against the warmth of her stirring flesh. 

Linda loved the tight, twisting sensations of his steadily probing fingers 
as he let them grind against the warmth of her ripe breasts. He shoved her 
succulent globes up between his stirring fingers and every now and then 
Linda would heave a loud, deep sigh and beg him for more of the same kind of 
uninhibited finger attention. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, KEEP FINGERING MY TITS," she told him. "COME ON, MY DARLING. 
OOOHHH, OHHHH, THAT'S NICE. OOOHHHH, I LOVE THE FEELING. OOOHHH, WHEN YOU 
PRESS WITH YOUR FINGERS LIKE THAT. WHEN YOU PUSH THEM AGAINST MY HOT TITS. 
OOOHHH, COME ON, CLOSE IN. CLOSE IN FAST. OOOHHH, THAT'S SO GOOOODDD." 

After letting his fingers grind against the resilient warmth of her 
up-thrusting and sharply undulating breasts, Carl then permitted them to 
close in against the tautness of her flaming red nipples. He loved the fact 
that they were exceedingly tight, indicating to him just how thoroughly 
excited this beautiful woman was as he kept on pressing and twisting with 
both hands, letting his fingers tweak against the flaming surface of her 
prickly nipple flesh. 

"OOOHHH, YOU'RE ON FIRE," he grunted. "OOOHHH, I LIKE THAT. I LIKE THE WAY 
YOUR FINGERS ARE MOVING. OOOHHH, DAMNED, OHHH, I LIKE THE FRANTIC ACTION. 
KEEP FLIPPING YOUR BUTT AROUND, HONEY. YES, OOOHHH, COME ON AND DO IT. 
OOOHHH, FLIP YOUR ASS. COME ON, FLIP IT AROUND." 

Her seductive buttocks moved sweepingly back and forth, causing the bed 
springs to dramatically jangle as he kept on clutching tightly with both 
hands, letting his fingers grip and twist as they continued to slide against 
the warmth of her ripe nipples. After a few more strokes he released his 
fingers from her nipples, upon which he then reached down and made a quick, 
insistent grab for the crotch band of her panties. 

"I'm gonna finish the job I started," he smiled. "I'm gonna take off those 
panties of yours." 

Her sleek white legs twisted and trembled as she prepared to have her pussy 
revealed to this young man for the first time. The stunning brunette felt 
just a measure of tension in her stomach. She felt a little peculiar since, 
indeed, she had very much been an old-fashioned girl up to that point, one 
who would not think of exposing her beautiful nude body in all its enticing 
entirety until she knew a man very well. Here was a poor, frustrated young 
man who had been threatening to commit suicide. She had only agreed to see 
him as a means of hopefully talking him out of taking such dire action 
concerning his own frustrated life. But now here he was, feeling totally 
different, gasping and panting, a young man very much in the throes of wild 
heat as he now prepared to pull and tug relentlessly at her panties until he 
removed them, after which she would be stripped completely naked. 

Linda could not help but feel a strong measure of excitement about exposing 
herself completely to this young man. She remembered the wild-eyed look of 
excitement and infatuation that he had exhibited once that he had removed 
her bra and had gone to work with his fingers clutching against the seething 
tightness of her breasts and nipples. Now here he was, preparing to remove 
her panties and release her from the last vestiges of clothing. Linda was 
convinced that he would be more excited than ever once he stared down at her 
fully exposed crotch. 

She listened to the continually sharp, heavy sounds of his breathing as Carl 
gripped her waistband tightly, then began to pull downward. 

"Oh, I've got to see you, I've got to see all of you," Carl Royster 
emphatically exclaimed. "You're so beautiful. You've got such a 
fantastic-looking body. Okay, I'm gonna see it fully exposed. Honey, I wanna 
see every beautiful inch of that gorgeous body of yours." 

He kept on pulling and tugging at her panties, sliding them against the 
sleek whiteness of her legs. Finally he had dropped her panties down low 
enough to where he got his first good look at her silky smooth pubic vee. 

Carl's eyes were immediately infatuated by the sight of her sparse pubic 
curls, which matched in every detail the brown color of the hair on her 
head. He licked his lips with lascivious anticipation, and she immediately 
noticed the fact that the same wide-eyed expression that had surfaced on his 
face when he had previously stripped off her bra had now returned. 

She felt him pull and tug several more times, following which he ground her 
panties all the way down to her ankles, then off of her altogether. 

He was panting more loudly than ever, and he reached down promptly with both 
hands and grabbed tightly at her smooth, magnificently tapered thighs. 

"OOOHHH, WHAT A BOX, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL BOX YOU'VE GOT," he exclaimed. "JUST 
LOOK AT THOSE BEAUTIFUL CURLS. OH, HONEY, WHAT A PUSSY, WHAT A MAGNIFICENT 
PUSSY." 

He kept on staring with boyish delight at her fleecy brown pubic hairs. The 
longer he stared at them, the easier it became for him to observe their 
glistening texture. He could see that this beautiful young woman was already 
exceedingly turned on, and had become wet through the preliminary action 
that had taken place, in the course of which she'd become extremely excited. 

"I've gotta reach down and touch it," he said. "Gotta touch that gorgeous 
mound." 

The fingers of his right hand slowly moved toward her crotch area. His first 
move was to slide his finger tips against her brown, sodden pubic curls, 
which prompted her buttocks to wiggle with lascivious delight as her hips 
ground with fascination against the bed beneath her. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, THE WAY YOU'RE TURNING ON," she grunted. "COME ON, OOOHHH, 
MY DARLING. GO AHEAD. OOOHHH, COME ON, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, TURN ON, REALLY 
TURN ON. THAT'S SO NICE. OOOHHHH, IT'S VERY, VERY NIIIICE." 

Her fingers kept on manipulating against the warmth of her pubic hairs. 
After stroking against them a few more times, he then proceeded to let his 
fingers sink into the warm depths of her inflamed pink vagina. 

"OOOHHH, FINGERING ME, OOOHHH, IT'S GOT ME SO TURNED ON," she told him. 
"COME ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, OHHH, I LOVE THE WAY YOU'RE FINGERING ME. OOOHHH, 
THAT'S SO NICE. COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP ON DONG IT. OOOHHH, OHHHH, HONEY. 
DRIVE YOUR FINGERS. OOOHHH, KEEP IT UP. KEEP UP THAT HOT ACTION. OOOHHH, GET 
ME OFF, COME ON, OOOHHH, YOU'VE GOTTA GET ME OOOOFFFF!" 

"Don't worry," he smiled. "I'll get you off, all right. I'm gonna excite you 
no end, honey. I'm gonna do better than finger you off. I'm gonna put my 
tongue to work, and when I do, you're gonna love it. You're the kind of 
woman I wanna do everything to, everything to excite you, Just like I'm 
excited." 

His fingers continued to massage the warmth of her firm thighs as he pushed 
his head down between her legs. He tongued slowly, moving his probing red 
digit against her moist pubic curls. Every time that his tongue slowly 
glided against her pubic thicket, she would thrust her hips and ass cheeks 
upward to meet his tongue. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, YOU'RE GONNA GET ME OOOOFFFF," she sighed loudly. "COME ON, 
MY DARLING. OOOHHH, OHHHH, I LOVE IT. YES, OOOHHH, SWEETHEART. COME ON, 
OOOHHH, JUST TONGUE ME. YES, DO IT REALLY NICE. OOOHH, KEEP UP THOSE SMOOTH, 
BEAUTIFUL STROKES. COME ON, OOOHHH, JUST DO IT. GET ME OOOOOOO-FFFFFFFFF." 

He released his fingers from her silky smooth thighs, then let them sink 
tightly against the curvaceous warmth of her white bottom cheeks. He loved 
clutching tightly against her searing behind. Carl recalled how excited he 
was when he caught his first glimpse of Linda. One of the things that had 
impressed him the most was the shapeliness of her exquisite ass, and now his 
fingers were pushing tightly against it as his tongue began to work its way 
inside the seething inferno of her flaming pussy. 

"OOOHHHH, OOOHHH, TAKE CHARGE," she sighed. "COME ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, DRIVE 
THAT TONGUE OF YOURS. DRIVE THAT BURNING TONGUE. OOOHHH, KEEP SLIDING IT 
INSIDE MY PUSSY. YES, OOOHHH, YOU'RE GONNA GET ME OFF. IT'S SO NICE. OOOHHH, 
IT'S SO GOOD. GETTING THAT ATTENTION. COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP ON TONGUING ME. 
YES, OOOHHH, COME ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, SLIDE WITH THAT HOT TONGUE. OOOHHH, 
DRIVE IT INSIDE ME. COME ON, EVEN FASTER. FASTER. STEP UP THE PACE. OOOHHH, 
SUCK MY PUSSY." 

As his fingers kept on pushing with piercing tightness against the 
smoothness of her upturned, fleshy white buttocks, his tongue continued to 
slide and salaciously grind as he worked it inside the wetness of her 
thoroughly inflamed pussy. The faster that his scraping tongue manipulated 
as it made its way inside of her hot nest, the louder that the slurping 
sounds became that emanated from her vagina as a result of his hot, 
methodical tongue strokes. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, I'LL BE BOLTING, I'LL BE BOLTING SOON," she told him. "COME 
ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, KEEP SCRAPING THAT HOT TONGUE. OOOHHH, DRIVE IT. COME 
ON, DRIVE IT FAST. OOOHHH, COME ON , TONGUE ME. YES, TONGUE MY PUSSY. 
OOOHHH, BRING ME OOOOOFFF." 

His fingers sank even more tightly against the warmth of her silky white 
bottom cheeks. He loved the manner in which her hips and buttocks twisted 
methodically as he kept on driving his pulsating tongue, working it into the 
seething depths of her passionate pit as she pushed that much closer to that 
inevitable moment when her searing pussy would explode. 

Every now and then the hotly panting Carl would let his tongue teasingly 
glide against the erect node of her electrified clitoris. That would always 
prompt her hips and buttocks to wiggle out of control, and she would 
simultaneously heave loud, deep sighs, enjoying every spirited tongue 
movement that he sent inside her seething nest. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, THE WAY YOU'RE PLAYING WITH MY CLIT," she sighed with 
delirious enjoyment. "COME ON, DARLING. OOOHHH, JUST KEEP ME GOING. YOU'VE 
GOT ME SO CLOSE. OOOHHH, I'M SO VERY CLOSE NOW. I'M READY TO JUICE. OOOHHH, 
I'M SO CLOSE TO SHOOTING." 

His tongue slithered and slid as it made its way inside the sodden heat of 
her pink pussy. After a few more quick strokes, the beautiful Linda was 
unable to hold back the passionate torrent of excitement that was tearing at 
her very insides, begging for immediate release. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, THERE I GOOOOO," she sighed loudly. "OOOHHH, OHHHH, KEEP 
YOUR TONGUE MOVING. OOOHHH, THE WAY IT'S SLIDIIING. TONGUE ME. OHHHH, KEEP 
TONGUING ME. KEEP THAT HOT TONGUE STUCK IN MY PUSSY, DARLING. OOOHHH, I'M 
EXPLODING. YOU'RE SWALLOWING IT. OOOHHH, IT ALL FEELS SO GOOD, SO VERY GOOD. 
OOOHHH, MY PUSSY EXPLODING IN YOUR MOUTH. OOOHHH, HONEY, OOOOHHHH, HOW I 
LOVE IIIIITTTT." 

Her hips and buttocks kept on twisting and sliding as the juices continued 
to explode volcanically from her hot organ, spraying inside his mouth as his 
tongue kept on slicing and sliding as he sought to capture every drop of her 
flaming vaginal fluids. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, GET IT AAAALLLL," she told him. "HONEY, OOOHHH, TONGUE IT 
ALL OUT OF ME. SWEETHEART, OOOHHH, IS THIS EVER GREAT. OOOHHH, YOU KNOW HOW 
TO SUCK ME. OOOHHH, YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO DO IIIITTT." 

His fingers continued to clutch tightly against her silky smooth ass flesh 
until she had exploded the final few drops of her flaming vaginal fluids, 
after which he then released his fingers from her ass. 

"How'd you like my explosive tongue?" he asked her smilingly. "It was super, 
baby." 

"Super, just like your pussy," he chuckled, reaching down and slapping 
affectionately at her ass cheeks. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

The panting young Carl no sooner than released his tongue from his beautiful 
lover's pussy than he was ready to provide her with more action. 

He reached down and made a quick, frantic grab for her buttocks, the flesh 
of which he'd squeezed so sharply and tightly as his tongue had moved with 
rampaging excitement inside her inflamed pussy. 

His fingers then began to quickly probe up and down the sleekness of her 
long, white limbs. He touched her magnificent thighs and ankles, extending 
Linda's legs even more, after which he then reached out and made a grab for 
the firmness of her ripe breast flesh. He loved touching her undulating 
bosoms, and the longer that he did, the more excitement that he felt in his 
cock and balls. Those telltale indications of seething excitement, the 
twitching and the itchiness, were all evident as he prepared to propel his 
hot, restlessly alive prick inside her pussy. 

Carl's fingers continued to clutch and grab as they moved searchingly 
against the firmness of her beautiful breasts. He then finally released his 
fingers from her resilient boobs, after which his super-active tongue was 
pushed into action once more. This time he let it slide dramatically against 
the up-thrusting, cone-like surface of her melon-like breasts. His throbbing 
tongue manipulated first against her left breast, then against her right, 
after which he would then repeat the same action. 

"OOOHHH, DARLING, HOW I TURN OOO-NNNN," she sighed. "COME ON, MY DEAR. 
OOOHHH, KEEP THAT SWEEPING TONGUE OF YOURS SLIDING. DARLING, OOOHHH, PRESS 
IT AGAINST MY TITS. YES, YES, YESSSS. OOOHHH, PLEASE PRESS. OOOHHH, TONGUE 
ME REALLY NICE. OOOHHH, WORK THAT HOT TONGUE OF YOURS. COME ON, OOOHHH, 
REALLY LET IT GO TO WORK. OOOHHH, TONGUE ME, MY DARLING. YES, OOOHHH, DRIVE 
ME WILD WITH YOUR TONGUE." 

Her hot words only prompted him to become that much more enthusiastic. After 
leaving a steady trail of saliva on her white boobs, Carl promptly released 
his tongue, preparing to drive his thundering cock forward and into the wet, 
intense depths of the same seething box that he had earlier sucked. It made 
him feel good to eat out a hot, beautiful snatch, then fuck it with his 
steaming man meat. That was what he had enjoyed so much with his wife, 
familiarizing himself with the dampened petals of her hot pussy flanges with 
his tongue, then shoving his piercing cock inside her still damp vagina 
until he juiced. 

As Carl's fingers held on tightly against the firmness of his lover's fleshy 
white thighs, he watched the way that she responded, her legs and cunt 
muscles tightening as he positioned his body forward, gliding his stone-hard 
peter resourcefully forward, pushing it into the intimate depths of her 
warmly aroused cunt. 

"OOOOHHHH, OHHHH, FUCK MEEE," she told him excitedly. "COME ON, MY DEAR. 
OOOHHH, KEEP IT SHOVING. OOOHHH, DRIVE IT INSIDE ME. YES, OOOHHHH, I LIKE 
THE EXCITEMENT YOU'RE GENERATING. COME ON, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, FUCK ME. YES, 
OOOHHH, KEEP THAT HOT COCK PLUNGING. DRIVE IT INSIDE MY PUSSY. OOOHHH, DRIVE 
IT, DRIVE IT WITH ALL YOU'VE GOT." 

Determined to both please himself and her, the heavily perspiring Carl 
continued to slide his stiff, dramatically pistoning cock into the tight 
warmth of her electrified vagina. 

He liked the way that Linda's beautiful body flared and twisted to meet 
every stirring, rapid-fire thrust that he dramatically sent forth. He 
battered her cervix with his rampaging pecker, taking charge of her 
completely with his stiff man meat, letting it plunge with devastating 
desire as he worked his way into the tight depths of her hot hole. 

"OOOHHH, WHAT A CUNT," he exclaimed. "OOOHHH, I LOVE SHOVING MY PRICK INSIDE 
YOU. COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP ON FUCKING BACK TO ME, BABY. YES, OOOHHH, THIS IS 
MY KIND OF BEAUTIFUL EXCITEMENT. YES, HONEY. OOOHHH, WHAT FUCKING. DAMNED, 
OOOHHH, WHAT GREAT FUCKIIING." 

Carl continued to grunt and gasp, and all the while the beads of sweat 
continued to pour down both sides of his face. The harder that he hammered 
with his fiery, fluid-filled spear, the closer that he felt himself moving 
toward the inevitable moment when the torrent of hot-white juice would 
explode from the end of his burning, fleshy tool. 

His leathery testicles continued to expand. He could feel the wild waves of 
infatuation in his scalding nuts as his torpedo-like penis continued to 
blast and stab, knifing and assaulting the flanges of his lover's ragged 
pussy lips as he continued to ravage her with pulsating authority. 

"OOOHHH, JUST KEEP IT GOING," she told him. "COME ON, MY DEAR. YES, OHHHH, 
KEEP ON FUCKING ME WITH YOUR HARD, AROUSED COCK. COME ON, OOOHHH, SCREW ME. 
YES, SCREW MY 

CUNT. OOOHHH, OHHHH, IT'S SO NICE, OOOHHH, I LOVE IIIIITTTT." 

The longer that his rock-hard spear worked its way into the wetness of her 
hair-fringed fissure, the wilder the raging genital heat that soared through 
his entire body as he kept on pumping and driving, enjoying every thrust. 
The tightness with which his steaming pecker fit into her vagina caused him 
to feel that much more excitement as he propelled his way that much closer 
to the ultimate moment when the thick, white juices would explode in an 
avalanche from the end of his searing organ. 

Carl's alert ears listened as his beautiful partner gurlged and gasped, 
letting out loud mewls of animalish frenzied desire as he kept on 
devastating her cuntal lips with his steaming cock, which blasted decisively 
as it worked its way into her warmly flushing pussy lips. 

"OOOHHH, THIS IS SO GOOD, THIS IS SO GOOOODDD," he sighed. "I DON'T KNOW HOW 
MUCH LONGER I CAN KEEP THIS UP. OOOHHH, WHAT A FUCK. DAMNED, OOO-HHHH, 
HONEY, YOU'RE SO GOOD. OOOHHH, YOU LOVE IT. YOU LOVE GETTING IT AS MUCH AS I 
ENJOY GIVING IT TO YOU." 

"YES, YES, I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW BADLY I NEEDED IT," she nodded briskly. "MY 
LOVE. OOOHHH, KEEP CHARGING WITH YOUR COCK. COME ON, OOOHHH, LET IT BLAST 
AWAY. LET IT SLIDE INSIDE MY PUSSY. OOOHHH, I'M SO TURNED ON. I COULDN'T BE 
ANY MORE TURNED ON. 

COME ON, DARLING. OOOHHH, KEEP ON FUCKING. YES, SLIDE IT INSIDE ME. FUCK ME, 
OOOHHH, REALLY FUCK ME." 

The longer that his rock-hard spear continued to work its way into the fiery 
dampness of Linda's hair-fringed fissure, the more intense the raging 
genital heat became that soared through his whole body as he pushed that 
much closer to the ultimate moment of orgasm. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, I'M GETTING SO CLOSE NOW," he told her. 

His flaming, bulbous cockhead battered her time and again, driving into her 
vaginal cavity. Gluttonously he continued attacking her dilating cunt, 
pushing with his rock-hard, flaming instrument, letting it slice against the 
raw nerve ends of her pulsating cunt. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, HERE I GOOOO," she told him. "OOOHH, SWEETHEART. YES, 
OOOHHH, I HAD TO JUICE. OOOHH, IT WAS TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH BEING FUCKED BY 
YOU. TOO MUCH HAVING YOUR HARD COCK DRIVE INTO MY PUSSY. COME ON, OOOHHH, 
KEEP IT GOING. YES, KEEP THIS BEAUTIFUL ACT GOING. OOOHHH, HONEY, KEEP 
FUCKING. DRIVE YOUR HARD COCK INSIDE ME. SPEAR ME WITH IT. PLEASE, OOOHHH, 
PLEASE, I NEED IT. OOOHHH, I NEED EVERY BIT OF IT." 

"Have no fear," he grunted. "You'll get it, darling." 

While the orgasmic fluids sprayed from Linda's inflamed pussy, her legs 
kicked and the soles of her feet pointed upward as she twisted her toes, 
feeling the pressure of his every swift, determined cock stab. 

Linda's pouting pussy lips continued responding to Carl's resolute, charging 
movements as his stiffly cannonading cock continued to drive intensely into 
the seething tightness of her aroused hole. Her buttocks continued to wiggle 
as the juices exploded from her inflamed cunt. 

Carl was now overcome by it all, happy over the fact that this beautiful 
woman was responding completely to his every quick, charging penis stab. His 
hands reached out and slapped against her buttocks as his stiff prick once 
again disappeared into the voraciously sucking depths of her tight pussy. 

The longer that Carl's stiff battering ram invaded her moistly heated hole, 
the better he felt about having called her and begged her to come over and 
see him. What a surprise he had received. Never had he envisioned anyone as 
lovely as Linda Gibson appearing at his door, not only willing to talk with 
him, but willing to yield her beautiful body to him so that they could both 
enjoy each other to the fullest extent. 

His crisp fingers pressed tightly against Linda's twisting ass cheeks as he 
kept on spearing and thrusting with his hotly prodding, insistent cock into 
the tight inner depths of her hot female orifice. Now he had reached the 
point of no return. The scalding juices inevitably had to spray from the tip 
of his searing cock head. 

"OOOHHH, THIS FEELS SO NICE," he sighed. "OOOHHH, FUCKING YOU LIKE THIS, 
OOOHHH, AAAHHH, IT'S SO GOOD. OOOHHH, WHAT A SCREW. OOOHHH, I'M SLAMMING IT 
INSIDE YOU. OHHHHH, AAAHHH, I'VE GOT TO SHOOT. OOOHHH, THE STUFF'S GOT TO 
SPILL. IT'S GOT TO SPILL SOON." 

As his fingers clamped tightly against the warmth of her buttocks, he heaved 
a series of loud, deep sighs. Carl watched as the escaping fluid began to 
explode from the rubbery nozzle of his erect, flinging phallus. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, KEEP MOVING YOUR ASS, OOOHHH, TWIST IT, COME ON AND TWIST 
IIIITTT," he sighed. "OOOHHH, HONEY. THIS FEELS SO GOOD. OOOHHH, SO NICE. 
OOOHHH, WHAT FUCKING. DAMNED, OOOHHHH, WHAT A WOMAN YOU ARE. OOOHHH, WHAT A 
HOT, WILLING WOMAN." 

Her pussy muscles continued to tighten and clasp as Carl rammed his stiff 
spear into the tightest inner depths of her hot hole. He removed his fingers 
dramatically from her buttocks, then let both hands tweak her pink, taut 
nipples as the drops of his thick, white cock fluid exploded from the end of 
his tumid shaft. 

"OOOHHH, OHHH, KEEP THAT ASS MOVING," he told her. "COME ON, OOOHHH, THAT'S 
SO GOOD. OOOHHH, WHAT FUCKING. DAMNED, OOOHHH, I LOVE IIIITTTT." 

Finally he withdrew his now satisfied cock from her vagina. Linda felt 
completely drained both emotionally and physically. Never had she gone 
through anything quite like what she had experienced with young Carl 
Royster. There had been wild love sessions with Neal in the past, but never 
had she encountered anything that had taken her so completely by surprise. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

After finishing the rousing sex with her lover, Linda Gibson was invited to 
have a drink with young Carl. 

Even though she felt that she had already stayed much too long at Carl's 
apartment, the industrious journalist decided that it was important to at 
least maximize the chances of keeping this young man in a better frame of 
mind. After all, she realized, she had done very well by him thus far, 
apparently, and had received much in the way of exciting and satisfying 
sensations. Now she would talk to him for a few minutes more and see if she 
couldn't get things straightened out completely. 

"So how do you feel, Carl?" she asked after putting her clothes back on as 
she sipped a glass of wine with him. 

"I feel much better now that you're here," he grinned. 

All of a sudden she began to feel fearful. The one thing that the lovely 
brunette did not want to do was to make him reliant upon her. 

"I mean, how do you feel now as far as your life is concerned," she said. "I 
was trying my best to make you see the light. To see that it's important for 
you to keep on going. Not to get discouraged." 

"Oh, yeah, well, here is the situation," Carl said, speaking slowly and with 
great emphasis. "When my wife left me I thought that was it. I really was 
convinced that she was the only woman in the world. I didn't think I could 
ever be attracted to anybody else." 

"But now you realize that that was just a myth, correct?" 

"Oh, yes, I certainly do realize that," he nodded. "I realize just how 
important it was to let myself go, like I just did with you. Heck, I could 
turn on with you like nothing. Of course, you're such a beautiful woman." 

"I want you to realize that there are a lot of other beautiful women around, 
Carl," she pointed out, "and that a number of them would find you 
attractive." 

"That's sure nice of you to say." 

"I say it because I happen to believe that it's the truth." 

"You really are a nice woman. You're loaded with class." 

"Thank you very much," she smiled at him. "Just as long as you don't start 
thinking that I'm the only woman in the world, either." 

He paused lengthily before responding. 

"No, I guess a guy can fall into a trap thinking that way, couldn't he?" 

"As a matter-of-fact, you once did," she reminded him. 

"Yes, that's so true. Well, I won't let it happen again. I'm gonna do my 
best to safeguard my thoughts. But I do hope maybe we can see each other now 
and then." 

"We'll see about it," she replied, remaining tactfully noncommittal. 

"Is there somebody else?" he asked. "I mean, a steady boyfriend or 
something?" 

"No, nothing like that," she shook her head emphatically. 

"That's good." 

"Hold on. I didn't finish. Here's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm more or 
less just married to my career and I'm holding my options open. I work 
better that way. You see, one of the reasons why I was able to empathize 
with you as easily as I could was because I went through a pretty traumatic 
marriage and divorce." 

"I get it. What you're saying is that you don't want to get too closely 
involved with anybody." 

"At least at this stage of my life that's true," she said. "I want you to 
know, though, that I'll never forget this beautiful experience today. Two 
people really turned on and provided a lot of sensation and satisfaction for 
each other." 

"That we really did," he smiled, remembering the intensity that they had 
shared together. 

"So I guess I'll have to be going now," she said after gulping down the rest 
of her glass of wine. 

"No need to hurry. I'd enjoy talking to you some more." 

"I'd enjoy talking to you some more also," she pointed out, "but I was 
expected back at the office quite awhile ago. I just kind of snuck out 
without telling anybody where I was going." 

"I hope you won't get in any trouble." 

"Well, let's just hope that if I'm in any kind of trouble I'll be able to 
talk my way out of it," she winked. 

A few minutes later she arrived back at the office. She got stalled several 
times in traffic, which caused her to curse under her breath. 

The moment that Linda arrived back in the office, young Jimmy walked over to 
her desk. 

"Where have you been?" he asked anxiously. 

"Why, what's the matter?" she responded. 

"Well, the boss is wondering what happened to you. Matter of fact, he was 
fuming just a few minutes ago." 

"Does he want to see me?" 

"You're damned right he does," Jimmy said. "He said for you to see him in 
his office the minute you returned." 

"All right, thank you, Jimmy," she said, walking toward Ted Monday's office. 

Before she knocked on the door, the lovely brunette took several moments to 
collect her thoughts. She had to decide just how she was going to handle 
this matter. Most certainly Ted Monday would be asking her just where she 
was. She thought about it a moment, then decided upon a course of action, 
after which she knocked on the door. 

"Yes," his voice called out crisply. 

"It's Linda Gibson, Mr. Monday." 

"Come in, Linda," he snapped. 

Ted Monday was pacing the floor in front of the window as she stepped inside 
his office. He took long, reflective puffs from his cigarette, occasionally 
staring down at the sight of busy Market Street below. 

"Where the hell were you, Linda?" he finally turned and asked, his voice 
challenging, its tone barely falling short of menacing. 

"I'll tell you what happened, Mr. Monday," she began in an apologetic tone. 
"I received this telephone call. I mean, something completely out of the 
blue." 

"What kind of call?" he stared at her skeptically. 

"From a young man. I'll have to protect his identity for his own sake, of 
course." 

"What the hell is this, anyway?" Ted Monday impatiently exploded. "It's like 
I'm listening to lines from some British spy melodrama. What's this about 
protecting identities. The main thing I'm interested in is why you left the 
office and said nothing." 

"Well, I left here in a real state of shock," she explained. 

"What shocked you?" 

"This call from this young man." 

"Okay, so you say you want to protect his identity. For the moment I'll let 
you do that. But let's get right down to the facts, young lady. You skipped 
out of this office without telling anybody where you were going and I had 
some things I wanted to talk to you about. Next thing I know I'm calling out 
there and you're nowhere to be seen. Nobody knew where you were. Admittedly 
in this profession people have to spend so much time out in the field, 
interviewing people, the like. But it's all done within an organized 
framework. Since I'm running that particular part of this office, the 
organizational part, then it's up to you to remain in touch with me. Have 
you got it?" 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Monday, very sorry," she said, staring at him 
apologetically. 

"Sorry isn't good enough," he snapped. "Go ahead with this story. I wanna 
first of all hear what you've got to say, then I'll decide if I wanna 
believe you." 

"Well, here's what happened. This young man called and was threatening 
suicide." "He what?" 

"That's right," she nodded. "He was threatening to take his life. Well, I'd 
gotten a letter from him that I'd just finished reading. I was wondering 
just what to make of it, whether it was a phony or whether it was on the 
level. Well, I had to conclude that the letter was on the level after 
reading it over and over. Then finally I hear this pathetic voice on the 
phone. He says it's so important to see me. That he needs to talk to 
somebody. He didn't want to talk to anybody else, not to any shrinks, not to 
anybody he knew. He wanted to just single me out." 

"So you went over and talked to him?" She nodded. 

"That's right. Well, I guess I should have left word as to where I was 
going. For one thing, I thought I'd be back quickly and therefore wouldn't 
cause any problems. That was wishful thinking. It took all that time to 
discuss his problems with him and get him to the point where he was feeling 
a little better." 

"You mean you think you talked him out of suicide?" Ted Monday asked with 
great interest. 

"Yes. I don't think he's gonna try it again." 

"Hey, that's fantastic," Ted Monday's eyes lit up. "That's perfect. You 
know, I see new dimensions for this column." 

"How's that?" 

"Naturally this is gonna be a big banner story for tomorrow's paper," Ted 
Monday grinned. "You're gonna write it up just like you explained it to me. 
Naturally, you'll protect the young man's identity. That's the way you've 
got to work it. But that won't in any way make the story less dramatic, will 
it?" 

"No. I suppose not," she gulped. "I hadn't even thought about writing it up. 
Actually, Mr. Monday, I was just like a concerned citizen, somebody trying 
to help out a young man in distress. That was the whole thing." 

"Splendid. Absolutely splendid. No, my dear, this column has got 
possibilities, real possibilities," he said, pacing the floor eagerly. "I 
knew you had what it took. I knew you were the girl who could do what other 
people were saying was the impossible. They thought that the Helene North 
column would die after poor Nora had to quit. I felt differently. I thought 
you had what it took, young lady, and apparently you do. This is great, just 
great." 

"Thank you, Mr. Monday. Well, I guess I'll be getting back to my desk to 
work on the story." 

Just when Linda was about to rise from her chair, Mr. Monday waved her off. 

"No, don't get up yet," he told her. "I've got an idea. Oh, damned. We're 
gonna increase our circulation some more. We're gonna make these wise guys 
from these other papers sit up and take notice. These people who said that 
the old Globe was a dead letter. Well, the old Bay Globe is gonna be bigger 
and better than ever." 

"What is it you're talking about, Mr. Monday?" she stared at him curiously. 

"I know that an awful lot of the letters you get are just nothing more than 
crank stuff," Ted Monday said. "It was the same thing when Nora was here. 
You sift through those and don't get anything out of them. So a lot of the 
time you just have to more or less make up your own questions and answers. 
All right, that's understandable. But I'll tell you what we've got going 
here, my dear. We've got something just beautiful materializing. It all 
happened purely by chance, with you getting that call and answering it on 
your own." 

"I'm still not following you, Mr. Monday." 

"You will you will," he sat down at his desk, then lit a fresh cigarette. He 
took a long puff, then resumed speaking. "Here's the situation, my dear. We 
want to build circulation, right?" 

"Right." 

"We agree that what happened today was terrific, right?" 

"If you say so. I guess it will make a dramatic story." 

"Of course it will. So what's wrong with running stories like this all the 
time?" 

"About suicide attempts?" 

"No, no. I'm talking about an overall standpoint." 

"I still don't follow you." 

"Here's what I'm driving at. There will be a certain number of letters. 
There always was when Nora was working here and the same will apply with 
you. A few letters that are obviously sincere. Well, she would try and 
answer those, and those would be the legitimate letters that would get into 
the paper. Here's what you can do. You're a very sharp, enterprising young 
woman. You can go out and talk to some of these people. Certain ones that 
intrigue you, that catch your imagine. Then you can write a lot more graphic 
story, and one that's far more dramatic, because you won't just be talking 
about somebody who wrote in to you. You'll be talking about a person whose 
problem you were able to solve. Somebody you actually talked with on a 
face-to-face basis. Now how's that sound?" 

"Yes, I guess it does have possibilities," she gulped. 

"Of course it does," he declared emphatically. "Damned. And we just kind of 
stumbled on this. Naw, I guess that wouldn't be accurate. We didn't really 
stumble on it because it was your skilled newspaper instincts that caused 
you to go out there and visit this young man. Oh, I know. You're gonna say 
that it was an effort to just save a person's life, but there probably was 
more to it than that, especially after you had an opportunity to talk to him 
for a lengthy enough period of time. You could see the possibilities 
materializing. Certainly you could. Well, Linda, if you really do a good job 
on this series, not only will our circulation increase, but you're gonna get 
new assignments and an increase in pay. So how's that? As a matter-of-fact, 
I'm gonna see to it that you get a little bonus for what you did right now. 
But I've gotta check it out with the publisher first." 

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Monday, except thank you." 

"You're quite welcome, Linda. I'm just doing the right thing by you. You 
deserve a reward for what you've done. You're quite a sharp, enterprising 
young woman. Now get out there and write that story, honey, and do a 
fantastic job on it." 

"I certainly will." 

"I know that," he grinned broadly. "I've got confidence in you." 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Two days later Linda was sitting at her desk opening the morning mail. 

The day before her column had been a sensation. Ted Monday ordered banner 
headlines for the entire story, putting it not in the regular spot which the 
Helpful Helene column occupied, but squarely on the front page. 

Now she knew that Ted Monday was expecting her to come up with an encore, 
something that would wow the readers once more. She wondered if perhaps she 
hadn't put herself in an impossible situation. For one thing, she could 
never tell Ted or anybody else just what had actually happened in young Carl 
Royster's apartment. She was certain that it was a lot more than her 
charming personality and forceful logic that had prompted him to forget 
about taking his own life. No, it had been her gorgeous breasts, her sleek 
white legs, her firm, fantastically seductive ass cheeks, and her sensuously 
beautiful face that had turned him on to such heights that he was able to 
push himself beyond the point of depression. The wild sex that they had 
enjoyed had caused him to put his life in a new perspective, and to forget 
about the wife that had left him for another man. 

She wondered if she could ever come up with an encore. Not only that, but 
she wondered if she would actually even desire to go out and talk to 
somebody else again concerning their problems. The previous day's mail had 
brought her nothing but a few silly crank letters. But now, after sifting 
through most of the mail, she came upon a letter that immediately struck her 
imagine. 

It came from Sausalito and was written by a young painter who referred to 
himself as Jack. He appeared to be in an extremely depressed state, although 
he was not talking about suicide. He related that he was suffering from a 
terrible impotence problem, one that he viewed as perhaps as much 
psychological as physiological, and was wondering what kind of assistance 
she could render to him. 

He concluded by telling her that his problem had turned his entire life into 
a shambles, and that, whereas he had previously been one of the top painters 
in all of California, now he was experiencing difficulty even applying brush 
to canvas. 

She stared down at his signature. He had said nothing whatsoever about 
calling her, nor had he indicated any desire to have her phone him. But yet, 
on the other hand, she at least had a last name. His name was Jack Garber. 

Linda longed to know about him. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. 
Yes, she realized, maybe there was something to what Ted Monday was saying. 
She could go out and have a talk with this poor forlorn man, perhaps 
providing him with at least a few encouraging words, even if she could not 
solve his problem. 

She got on the telephone, calling information. She learned that there was no 
listing for either a Jack Graber or a J. Garber in Sausalito. 

"It must be an unlisted number. Thank you, operator," she said 
disappointedly, hanging up the telephone. 

The enterprising young brunette journalist was depressed over the fact that 
she had apparently run out of possibilities. Even though she wanted to talk 
to Jack Garber, if he would not provide her with an address and telephone 
number, and apparently had an unlisted number, then where could she go from 
there? 

Then her inquiring reporter's mind went to work. He had mentioned being a 
painter. She knew of an art gallery in Sausalito where she had attended an 
exhibition just a few months before, covering it for the newspaper. She 
remembered that the man she had talked to, the individual who headed the 
museum, a Mr. Thomas Joyce, had been most kind. He had even written her a 
very courteous letter thanking her for the story she had written for The Bay 
Globe concerning the exhibition. 

Since Jack Garber had indicated that he was a painter, perhaps Tom Joyce 
knew something about his whereabouts. Maybe she could even pry his telephone 
number out of him. 

She called the art gallery and was immediately connected to Thomas Joyce. 

"Hello, Mr. Joyce," she began. "This is Linda Gibson of The Bay Globe. I 
hope you remember me. I was the one who covered your exhibition several 
months ago." 

"Of course I remember you," Thomas Joyce laughed. "You gave us a beautiful 
story. Not only that, but I'm not about to forget the face of a charming 
young lady." 

"Thank you very much." 

"So what can I do for you?" 

"There's a man I'd like to get in touch with to interview," she explained. 
"I understand he's a painter in the Sausalito area." 

"If he is, I certainly know him or know of him," Tom Joyce laughed. "What's 
his name?" 

"The name is Garber. Jack Garber." 

"Oh, damned, why do you want to interview him?" Thomas Joyce exclaimed with 
complete surprise. 

"He is a painter residing in Sausalito, isn't he?" "Yes. That's right. But 
he's a strange choice for an interview." 

"He's been painting for some time?" 

"Lately he hasn't been doing much of anything at all. The poor fellow's been 
depressed. He's gone to see a string of psychiatrists. Apparently nothing 
has worked." 

"I'm so sorry to hear that," she said. After that she began improvising. 
"You see, it's a human interest story. I'd kind of like to dig into just why 
he hasn't been doing much lately." 

"Yes. He has an impressionist style. As a matter-of-fact, he's been heavily 
influenced by Van Gogh and Cezanne. He was one of the most promising young 
painters around until just a couple of years ago. I don't know what happened 
to him. He just kind of went into eclipse. It's an awful thing. Oh, yes, I 
do remember. He had a wife that he was very devoted to. She died of a 
mysterious blood disease. He went to pieces. Well, I thought he'd come out 
of it. You know how it is with artists. Generally they're used to enduring 
tragedy, and sometimes it brings out the best in one." 

"But it didn't in the case of Garber?" 

"Not at all." 

"I'm certainly sorry to hear that. At any rate, I would like to see him." 

"Do you want me to get in touch with him for you?" 

"No, here's what I'd appreciate," she said. "I'd really appreciate it if you 
could give me his telephone number so I could just call him." 

"We've got his address and telephone number somewhere here in our files," 
Thomas Joyce said. 

"I could have my secretary dig it up. But I'm a little leery about it. You 
see, he hasn't had many dealings with anybody. He might resent it very much 
if he thought I'd given out his telephone number to you." 

"What if I promised you I'd never reveal the source." 

"Well, I suppose that would make a difference," Tom Joyce laughed. "Besides, 
I'd like to do a favor for you anyway, if I could. Considering how kind you 
were with that nice story you wrote. I'll tell you what. Just give me your 
number and I'll get back to you in a few minutes. I'll have my secretary go 
through our files and get the number for you." 

"Thank you very much, Mr. Joyce." 

"You're quite welcome," he replied. 

Several minutes later she received a return call from Thomas Joyce, who had 
secured Jack Garber's telephone number from his files, after which she 
profusely thanked him, then began dialing Garber's number. 

She waited for several rings before a man answered the phone. He spoke in a 
certain distant tone of voice. 

"Yes," he began. "What is it?" 

"Is this Jack Garber?" 

"It is. Who's calling, please." 

"Jack, this is Helene North." 

"Helene North?" 

"Yes. The woman who writes the column for The Bay Globe." 

"Oh ... yes, oh, yes. I remember the name. Why are you calling me?" 

"I got your letter just this morning." "How did you get this number?" "I'm 
not allowed to divulge my sources," she explained. 

"How did you get this number?" he indignantly demanded, practically 
shrieking at her. 

"I'm sorry, but like I said, I'm not willing to disclose my sources. 
However, I would like very much to have a chance to talk to you." 

"All right, so you won't divulge that. What do you want to talk to me 
about?" 

"Your problem." 

"I thought that you would just write about it in the paper. I get very 
embarrassed and nervous talking about it to somebody." 

"But that's the only way I can really help you," she explained. "There are 
too many facts that I'm completely unaware of." 

"Then what do you suggest? That you cross-examine me right here on the 
telephone? I don't want to do that. I get nervous even talking on the phone 
for long periods of time." 

"Oh, no, I'm not suggesting that at all," she said. "I just think it could 
be extremely helpful if I could just drive out to your place and talk to you 
for a while." 

"See me at my place?" 

"That's right." 

"I don't know. This is quite irregular, isn't it? For one thing, I'm not 
used to even entertaining people." 

"Don't think of it as entertaining anyone," she explained. "I just want to 
talk to you. Just like two friends." 

"But I don't even know you," he replied in an astonished tone. 

"That's all right. I want you to think of me as a friend. Judging by your 
letter you need somebody to talk to. Now if you could just give me your 
address I could come out and see you right now." 

"Now?" 

"If there'd be another time that would be more convenient, well, I could see 
you then. But if you're not doing anything right now, then I'd be able to 
come and see you right away." 

"I don't know. This is astonishing. All the same, I can't help but be 
impressed by your sincerity. I get the impression from your voice that you 
do want to help. I'm touched, gratified." 

"I do want to help." 

"Very well. I might be making a terrible mistake, and you might be making a 
terrible mistake, but I'll give you my address. By making a mistake I mean 
that you might get very depressed, maybe as depressed as I am after talking 
to me." 

"I'll take that chance," she said. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when he provided her with his address. Linda 
got up and walked into Ted Monday's office, explaining to him that she would 
be going out to Sausalito to talk with a man who had written to the paper. 

"Great, let's have another rousing story like we had with this young man you 
helped," Monday smiled. 

"Of course, this man isn't threatening suicide or anything," she said, "but 
he is very distressed." 

"How did he sound on the phone?" "Very distressed," she replied. "Good 
luck." 

"I might need it," she smiled. 

A few minutes later she arrived in Sausalito. The artist lived in a modern 
structure overlooking the water. It was the perfect rustic setting for a 
painter. 

Jack Garber quickly responded to her knock on his front door. He was attired 
in a white T-shirt and blue jeans. The T-shirt contained a figure of 
Rembrandt, with the great artist's name scrawled below it. 

"Please come in," Jack Garber smiled. "How do you like my T-shirt?" "Very 
nice." 

"Actually I'm more of an impressionist," he told her, pointing toward the 
picture of Rembrandt, "but I have T-shirts with a number of the great 
painters on them. Even though Rembrandt's style was a lot different than 
mine, I still have profound respect for his abilities." 

"As a matter-of-fact, so do I," she smiled. "I admire all the great 
painters." 

 CHAPTER NINE 

As Linda Gibson slowly analyzed the face of Jack Garber, she could not help 
but conclude that it was what she would call ruggedly handsome. 

She liked Garber's broad shoulders, his intense gray eyes, and his finely 
chiseled face. It looked as if it had been through a good deal of living, 
but yet, on the other hand, there was a sensitivity that remained. It was 
not all that difficult to determine from looking at him even casually that 
he had suffered a good deal. There was a certain measure of sadness that 
emerged in his eyes in spite of any effort he might have had to hide it. 

"You know something, you've got a good face," he said after staring at Linda 
for a long time. 

"Oh," Linda smiled with just a tinge of embarrassment. 

"I mean for painting. Naturally, being an artist, I'm very perceptive when 
it comes to faces," he said. 

"Yes. I would imagine that to be true. Just look at Van Gogh and Rembrandt, 
for instance. Some of their most famous paintings were their self-portraits, 
the paintings that endured." 

"You like art?" he smiled engagingly. 

"I know a little something about it. I'm sure I don't have the depth of 
knowledge on the subject that you do." 

"I always tell people that I don't look at it as anything like depth of 
knowledge," Jack Garber replied. 

"How do you mean?" 

"Well, I look at it as a purely intuitive experience. As an aesthetic 
experience. You get what I mean?" 

"Sort of. Art for art's sake, you mean?" 

"Something like that," Jack Garber said. "At any rate, let me pour the two 
of us some white wine. Would that be all right? It would help me if I could 
just drink a little something. It would ease my ruffled nerves when I start 
to explain to you my problems." 

"Whatever you say." 

As he walked over to a wet bar in the corner of the room, Jack Garber stared 
at Linda Gibson once more. There was an expression of surprise that had been 
on his face from the very moment that she had appeared, which certainly did 
not surprise her in any way, considering the fact that she had indeed 
decided to pull off something very bizarre. Instead of just merely answering 
her interested reader's question through the mail or via the newspaper, she 
was instead making a personal call. And none other than Ted Monday approved 
of this particular approach. 

What was surprising her was the manner in which she was responding to Jack 
Garber. He seemed like a decent guy who was caught in a tragic situation. 
But there was more to it than that. She also felt herself turning on with 
him, feeling certain tingly waves of anticipation in her crotch. It made her 
wonder just what was happening to her. She had told herself that the 
previous experience with young Carl Royster was nothing more than a fluke. 
She had been badly in need of sex that day and so had he, and on top of that 
she could not help but respond sympathetically to his plight. Now here she 
was in another situation. Before Jack Garber even had an opportunity to 
explain what his problem was in any detail, here she was feeling those 
surging waves of excitement in her loins. 

As they sipped the wine, Jack Garber sat down in a chair that faced the 
expansive picture window, out of which he could see the water beyond. 

"It's hard to know just how to start," he said, his expression pensive. 

"Just relax. Remember you're with a friend. I wouldn't have come out here 
and attempted this approach if I didn't think that it would be helpful to 
you." 

"Well, the problem is my wife. You see, she died just a couple of years ago. 
Up until that time we were so very happy and I was productive. What work I 
was turning out. I was getting shown in major galleries not only here, but 
all over. I was constantly flying all over the country to appear at showings 
of my work. It was a wonderful life, a satisfying life." 

"So what happened to change all that? She left you?" 

"Oh, no, she'd never do that," he shook his head emphatically. "She died. It 
was a strange blood disease. They said it was like the kind that took the 
life of that famous baseball player. Lou Gehrig. The one who played for the 
Yankees years ago." 

"How tragic. I'm so sorry to hear that. Well, you know how it goes, and your 
wife would be the first one to concede this. You have to make a life for 
yourself, Jack. You can't constantly live in the tragedy of that 
experience." 

"I suppose so," he sighed, "but I feel so trapped. I find myself not wanting 
to even paint still life anymore. I just want to paint her. All my memories 
are of her." 

"You've got to change all that." 

"Easier said than done." 

"How about another woman?" 

"I've never been able to find anybody I can respond to like I could her," he 
shook his head. "You see, with Betty and me it was something very special. 
We met when we were both going to art school in New York. Betty never had 
too much talent as a painter. She did as a commercial artist, though, and in 
the early years when things would get tough with me, when I'd be really 
struggling and trying desperately to sell paintings, she could always get 
work at advertising agencies. She was so unselfish, so wonderful. But then 
she had to be taken from me." 

"I think it would be extremely wise if you'd at least try and seek out some 
female company," Linda said, continuing to feel those tingly waves of 
excitement in her crotch. "For one thing, it would relax you." 

"That's just it," he suddenly began to sob. "I have." "What happened?" 

"It was humiliating," he almost shrieked. 

"Be calm, Jack. Remember you're with a friend. Take it nice and easy. Now go 
ahead and tell me. What happened?" 

"All right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you." 

"I know that. It was just frustration on your part." 

"All right. Well, here's the way it was. You see, I would get to the point 
with certain women, usually other artists, people in the art community, or 
models that I painted. Some of them were more than eager to go to bed with 
me. Then I'd start thinking about Betty. I'd imagine her looking down at me 
from on high. I'd get to feeling guilty. Then I couldn't do anything. My 
cock would shrivel up. It would behave like an old wash rag. Then I'd feel 
humiliated, terribly humiliated." 

"I'm so sorry. Now I'm beginning to understand your problem." 

"They were generally sympathetic," he said in a tight-lipped manner. "They 
understood. A lot of them knew Betty very well and knew just how close we 
were. Some of them even remarked on how rare it was, particularly in this 
day and age, for people to be this close and have that much in common. But 
it was awful, Linda, just awful, to feel this humiliation in not being able 
to perform at all. And some of them were very attractive women as well." 

"What you're gonna have to do is learn to relax. You're too tight," she 
said. "I know that sounds very simple to you, but that's the way that I see 
it." 

"How am I gonna do that?" he looked at her with a tortured expression. "Say, 
do you need another glass of wine?" 

"No," she shook her head emphatically. "I was just thinking of something. 
Some applied therapy. Something that just might help you." 

"What's that?" 

"You haven't known me all that long, right?" "That's right." 

"But yet I think that maybe if you could get comfortable around me maybe 
this would help break your spell. I mean, this tightness you feel. This 
impotence." 

"I sure want to do everything I can to improve my condition," he sighed. 
"You see, I think that maybe if I could just relax I would break out of this 
terrible state and start painting productively again. Word's gotten around 
all over just how bad my situation is. About how I can't seem to paint 
anymore. About how I can't seem to accomplish anything." 

"I understand. That must be terribly frustrating. At any rate, here's what I 
suggest." 

"Please go ahead. I'm all ears." 

"I suggest that we go into your bedroom," she said. 

He raised his eyebrows with surprise. 

"But I hardly know you," he said. "You are very beautiful. I would like very 
much to paint you. But what are you suggesting?" 

"No need to get alarmed. I just want you to take off your T-shirt and just 
stretch out on your bed. Just lie there on your stomach. I'm going to 
massage you. Just massage your back in a nice loose, free fashion. Make you 
feel a little more relaxed. I think that'll help you." 

"A massage?" 

"That's right." 

"Isn't that a pretty simplistic approach?" 

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "That's just the first step, the 
first step toward you learning how to relax, to leave the frustrations 
behind. But I think that it'll help you. Can't you trust me?" 

"like I said, I'm willing to try just about anything now," Jack Garber 
sighed. "Okay, let's go. I'll show you the way." 

They walked down a long hallway leading toward a spacious bedroom. They 
walked inside the bedroom. Immediately Linda's eyes were captured by the 
sight of a painting of a beautiful red-haired woman which hung just above 
the bed. Next to it was a copy of a self-portrait of Van Gogh. 

"That's Betty," Jack said, beginning to slip his T-shirt over his head. 

"She is very lovely." 

"Oh, yes, and her beauty was a lot more than skin deep." 

"It looks that way just from the expression on her face. She looks like a 
person who has real substance. Certainly no phony or frivolous person." 

"That's right. You captured her essence." 

As Jack Garber finished slipping his T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside 
onto a nearby chair, she couldn't help but notice the suppleness of his 
muscles. His flesh appeared very firm and solid, like a man who worked out 
and was constantly aware of his appearance. 

He eased his body downward and lay stretched out on his stomach. Already 
Linda's entire body was tingling with wild anticipation. The more time she 
spent around this man, the faster the excitement grew. Yes, she had a pretty 
good idea just how far she was going to go, but first she had to put herself 
to the test. Linda had to prove that she could excite this poor, frustrated 
painter who was having this terrible impotence problem. 

She actually liked the challenge and looked forward to it as she reached out 
with both hands and let her fingers gently yet firmly sink against the 
firmness of his flesh. He lay there still for several moments. 

"How does this feel?" she asked, continuing to apply her fingers to the 
flesh of his back. 

"It does feel kind of relaxing," he said. "I still have this uptight 
feeling, though." 

"Don't let it scare you," she told him. "You don't need to feel shook up at 
all in any way. I'm just a friend trying to help you. But since you've been 
through something like this, you couldn't expect to loosen up and feel 
comfortable around me within seconds anyway." 

"I know. I think you're like Betty. You're a woman who has a lot of 
substance. You have beauty, but it isn't just skin deep." 

"That's very touching," she said, applying her fingers more tightly and 
firmly than before. "I really appreciate you telling me that." 

She massaged his back for several more minutes. Linda could tell that he was 
starting to at least slightly loosen up under the steady penetration of her 
fingers. 

"All right, now we're ready for the next step in our little experiment," she 
smiled. 

The painter turned around, lying this time stretched out on his back. 

"What are you gonna suggest next?" he asked. 

"That you strip from the waist down," she told him. 

"That kind of makes me a little fearful," he said. 

"Come on now. I was married once and I've seen men naked. I'm a big girl 
now, so you don't need to be all that afraid of stripping before me." 

"I just feel funny, that's all," he shrugged. 

"Well don't. Come on now, honey, and just take off your trousers. It's not 
gonna be all that bad once you get it done." 

Slowly, with a painful expression on his face, the sensitive painter undid 
his belt and slid his trousers down his legs. After he pulled them 
completely off, he sat there uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, wearing 
nothing other than a pair of white jockey shorts. 

"Come on now," she said. "I meant off with everything. Get your shorts off 
as well." 

He looked at her painfully for several moments, heaved a deep sigh, then 
reached down and made a grab for the waistband of his shorts. He pulled them 
down his legs and off of him, and the moment that his limp, lifeless penis 
was exposed, he grimaced. 

"Come on now, I said to loosen up," she told him. "Now I'm gonna show you 
just how easy it is once you become relaxed to your surroundings. I'm gonna 
strip in front of you." 

"You're gonna what?" 

"That's right," she nodded. 

Without any further hesitation, the brunette beauty glided out of her dress. 
She saw the awestfuck manner with which his alert eyes widened as he stared 
at her removing her clothes. 

Now the beautiful, sensuous Linda Gibson was down to her red bikini panties 
and matching brassiere. She was glad that she had worn some of her most 
enticing undergarments to work that day. 

It made it all that easier to provide Jack Garber with excitement. Already 
she was beginning to see some life surface between his legs. His penis was 
not by any matter of means rock hard, but the beginnings of an erection were 
starting to appear. 

"You like my body?" she asked him, smiling teasingly. 

"It's a fantastic body," he said. "I've never seen a better one, in fact." 

"How sweet of you to say." 

"You have tremendous curves. Oh, yes. You know, you'd be great to paint in 
the nude." 

"Maybe I'll let you do that some time," she winked. 

But for the moment, Linda preferred to have her own mind as well as Jack's 
completely removed from the realm of painting. Her frantic desire was to 
strip completely naked and expose herself in totality to this handsome but 
highly frustrated man. Her steady resolve could not have been more intense 
than it was at that point in time. She had a firm, unyielding desire to 
please him, and to excite and please herself in the process. 

The beautiful brunette reached out and slowly but surely undid her brassiere 
straps. When she saw the manner in which the naked painter was staring at 
her with such rapt attention, she decided to draw things out, concluding 
that it would excite him that much more. 

She finished prying off her brassiere, which she tossed to the floor. She 
reached out and made a grab for her firm, fleshy breasts, which she jiggled 
with both hands. Already her taut nipples were rock hard, apprising herself 
of just how excited she was and the tremendous degree of arousal that was 
flowing through her whole body. 

"Just look at my tits," she said. "There's no need to be ashamed about any 
of this. You're gonna turn on with me, honey. Isn't that right?" 

"Right now I don't know anything," Jack Garber gulped. "I do know this, 
though. Those are fantastic tits." 

"All right, darling, you're gonna see my pussy in a second," she told him. 

"What sleek, lovely legs," he said. "Yes, you'd be ideal to paint." 

"Let's forget about all that for a moment, honey. Let's just concentrate on 
ourselves, huh? On a different kind of aesthetic pleasure. The kind that you 
get between your legs." 

Jack saw the humor in her statement and laughed. It made her feel good to 
see him laughing and smiling. It meant that, as painful as it might have 
been, he was finally starting to loosen up. 

Even though she wanted to tear her panties from her and immediately get into 
the sex act, the beautiful brunette wanted to draw Jack out in every 
conceivable way and excite him as much as possible, and so she began to 
slowly pull her panties down her legs. Jack listened to the erotic scraping 
sounds of the filmy material coming into contact with the firmness of her 
fleshy ivory-toned thighs. 

"Just look at my legs, honey," she whispered. "And look at that pretty bush 
I've got between them. Just look at my pussy, darling. Doesn't it look 
nice?" 

As she stepped out of her panties, she slowly extended her legs, drawing out 
every nuance of expression that she could. She shoved her crotch forward, 
giving him a perfect view of her hair-rimmed furrow. 

"Just look at it, honey," she pointed down toward her pussy. "You like my 
pussy?" 

"It's beautiful," he gulped. 

"Good. I'm gonna see to it that that impotency problem of yours is solved." 

During the course of time that the brunette beauty had been undressing, Jack 
Garber's cock had continually expanded. Now, as she eased her enticing naked 
body downward onto the bed with him, she noticed that it was shriveling up 
again. That intense, wild-eyed expression in his eyes had been replaced by 
one of fear. 

As she fixed her eyes longingly on his deflated cock, he turned his head 
away, then began to sob. 

"You see, it happens like this all the time," he said. "If I'm around a 
beautiful woman, particularly one of the models that I've painted, I can get 
turned on momentarily. That cock will spring up for a little while, but then 
it drops down. It droops. Just like now. It's hopeless, it's hopeless, I'm 
sorry. It's certainly no reflection on you. You're a beautiful woman." 

"Quiet down now, honey," Linda said, determined to succeed in spite of the 
difficulty of the problem. "Just relax. Everything's gonna be fine." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Linda stared down at the limp, seemingly lifeless cock of Jack Garber for a 
few moments. 

She then reached out and let her fingers scrape slowly, smoothly over his 
testicles. His body twitched with surprise at first, and soon he was staring 
up at her curiously. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

"I'm gonna put some life into that prick of yours," she winked. "I'm gonna 
massage your cock and balls just like I massaged your back." 

"I admire your determination," he said. "You really are a good woman to want 
to help me like this." 

"I'll be honest with you, Jack," she laughed. "Some of this is selfish as 
well. I like your body. I like your manner. You're really a very sexy, 
desirable man, and I wanna hump with you." 

"You really think I'm what you just said I am?" he-looked at her with 
astonishment. 

"Of course you are. I'm not just saying this. You're a very appealing man. 
Now just lie there and relax, honey. We're gonna get into it. We're gonna 
really enjoy it." 

Back and forth she continued to glide her fingers, letting them sink tightly 
and warmly against his testicles. The harder that her fingers plunged, the 
quicker that his body twitched in dramatic response to her movements. 

"Hey, that's starting to feel good," he smiled. 

"Of course it is. Relax, honey. That's the important thing. Don't strain. 
Don't strain for a second." 

Slowly but surely she could see his cock beginning to rise. After letting 
her fingers push tightly against his testicles for a few more moments, she 
reached out and let her finger tips clutch against the tip of his penis. She 
pushed her fingers tightly against his cock head, then started to let them 
run up and down the rubbery base of his prong. The longer that she massaged 
his penis, the more life-like it became, and soon she could see that an 
erection was looming. 

"OOOHHH, THIS FEELS NICE," he sighed, his thighs beginning to twitch. "COME 
ON, HONEY. OOOHHH, KEEP YOUR FINGERS MOVING. MOVE THEM REAL NICE. LET THEM 
PRESS AGAINST MY COCK. OHHHH, THIS IS A GOOD FEELING. A FANTASTIC FEELING. 
OOOHHH, DO IT TO ME. YES, OOOHH, JUST TURN ME ON WITH THOSE FINGERS OF 
YOURS. OOOHHH, THAT IS A NICE SENSATION. A BEAUTIFUL SENSATION. OOOHHH, 
AAAHHHH, I LOVE IT." 

By then her fingers were dancing spryly against the full length of his 
rapidly expanding cock. Now he was approaching the state of full erection. 
The tighter that she squeezed, the harder that his ever-stiffening cock 
became, and that excited her more than anything, realizing that she was 
making such tremendous headway with this man, who had been so fearful in the 
early stages of activity. 

Finally she removed her fingers from his cock, letting them sink once more 
against his testicles. She pushed tightly against the warmth of his balls, 
and as she held on to them tightly, she pushed her tongue forward, allowing 
it to ease against the tip of his cock. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, THAT FEELS SO GOOOODD," he loudly exclaimed. "COME ON, 
OOOHHH, RUN YOUR TONGUE AGAINST MY PRICK. OHHHH, BABY. YOU'RE SO GOOD. 
OOOHHH, I LOVE THAT ACTION. DO IT TO ME, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, TURN ME 
ON. YES, YES, OOOHHH, YES. YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO DO IT. OOOHHH, SWEETHEART. 

OOOHHH, COME ON, DO IT TO ME. YES, OOOHHH, SUCK MEEEE." 

Her well-timed strokes continued to fascinate him. Now his blue-veined 
stiffness was being evidenced in all its turgid glory. Not only did he have 
a good erection, but his cock was good and long, a nice, healthy-looking 
rod, just the kind that she longed to pump her tongue up and down against. 

If she had taken any time to contemplate all that was happening, the vast 
magnitude of her activity, the beautiful brunette would very definitely have 
become fearful. The idea of what she was doing would have astounded her no 
end, but now here she was, sucking a strange man's cock. Even when she 
thought back and recalled her marriage, her husband Neal had always been 
hard pressed to get her to suck him off. But now she longed to supply Jack 
with the ultimate in satisfaction, and her tongue was moving at a rapid rate 
as she let it come into steady blazing contact with the full length of his 
solid, erect, fluid-filled staff. 

"OOOHHHH, OOOHHH, KEEP TURNING ME OOOONNN," Jack exclaimed. "OH, HONEY. COME 
ON, SUCK MY COCK. OOOHHH, REALLY SUCK IT." 

He kept firing his body forward, pushing his stiff prick toward her mouth to 
make it that much easier for her to suck him off. While her tongue kept on 
gliding rapidly but smoothly against the full length of his fleshy spear, 
Linda reached down and let her fingers push tightly against the warmth of 
his testicles. Neal had always loved to have his expanding testicles rubbed 
by her during the throes of cock sucking, and as she did the same thing to 
the handsome painter, his body intensely twisted and spun as he heaved loud, 
deep sighs, enjoying every impassioned moment of the act that was taking 
place. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, AAAHHH, SUCK MEEE," he loudly declared. "COME ON, HONEY. 
OOOHHH, JUST GET ME OFF. OOOHHH, SUCK, COME ON, OOOHHHH, SUCK MY LONG, JUICY 
PRICK. YES, OOOHHH, DO IT TO ME. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, OHHHH, SUCK. OOOHHH, SUCK 
IT, SUCK IT, SUCK IT. OOOHHH, I CAN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I FELT THIS 
GOOOODDD. OOOHHHH, EAT IT, DARLING. OOOHHH, AAAHHHH, GET THE STUFF OUT OF 
ME. YES, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, COME ON, OOOHHHH, DO IIIIITTT." 

Her rapid, well-timed tongue continued to lunge and thrust as she worked it 
up and down the full length of his enormous organ. Her fingers clasped more 
tightly than ever against the warmth of his ballooning testicles, and she 
knew that he could not withstand the pace of this kind of frenzied sucking 
action for much longer. The inevitable deluge of thick, white juice would 
soon be exploding, and she could hardly wait to taste every drop of his hot 
sperm. 

"COME ON, HONEY, OHHHH, EAT ME, YES, EAT MY PRICK," he loudly exclaimed. 
"OOOHH, OHHH, KEEP STEPPING IT UP, SWEETHEART. OOOHHH, COME ON, GIVE ME A 
FANTASTIC TONGUE JOB. OOOHHH, WHAT A GREAT TONGUE. COME ON, OOOHHH, YOU CAN 
EVEN DO IT FASTER. YOU CAN'T DO IT TOO FAST FOR ME, DARLING. COME ON, 
OOOHHH, EAT MY PRICK. GO AFTER MY JUICE. OOOHHH, OHHHHH, AAAHHH, I LOVE IT, 
I LOVE IT, I LOVE IIIITTTT." 

As her fingers kept on pressing tightly against the warmth of his testicle 
flesh, her tongue swooped with delirious ecstasy up and down the full length 
of his hot, steely organ. She was just a few strokes away from swallowing 
his juice, and that provided her with that much more in the way of 
excitement and anticipation. After a few more quick, sturdy tongue thrusts, 
she felt the first few drops of fluid ease from the end of his cock. As she 
tasted his pre-cum, she steadied herself, driving her tongue in a wild 
frenzy of passion as she looked forward to swallowing every flaming drop of 
his escaping white fluid. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, HERE IGOOOOO," he exclaimed. "OHHHHH, SWEETHEART. YES, 
OOOHHH, THE STUFF'S SHOOTING. OOOHHH, OHHHHH, IT'S EXPLODING. YES, OOOHHH, 
IT'S ALL SPLASHING OUT OF ME. OHHHHH, OHHHHH, WHAT A FEELING. OOOHHH, WHAT A 
GLORIOUS, BEAUTIFUL FEELING. OHHHH, AAAHHH, OHHHH, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, 
LOVE IIIIIII-TTTTTTTT " 

His hips and buttocks twitched and slid back and forth as he watched the 
thick drops of his hot, white volcanic fluid gush from the tip of his 
mammoth cock head and into his lover's waiting mouth. 

A tremendous measure of satisfaction filled Jack's entire body as he watched 
the brown-haired beauty sliding her tongue back and forth, eagerly capturing 
every drop of his load. He loved the slurping sounds she made as she went 
after the tempestuous, flowing juice that emanated from the end of his hard, 
inflamed organ. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, GET IT ALL, OOOHHH, EVERY DROP," he loudly exclaimed. 
"OHHHH, WHAT A WOMAN. OOOHHH, WHAT A COCK SUCKER." 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

It pleased Linda to stare down at Jack's cock in the aftermath of his wild 
orgasm and observe that it had gone down very little. 

Not only that, but there was a look of hell-fire anticipation in his eyes, 
something that convinced her he was ready for more of the same kind of wild 
action. 

His first move was to throw his body forward and drive his head down between 
her firm, succulent breasts. 

"What a body," he exclaimed. "No wonder you were able to succeed where 
everybody else failed and light a fuse between my legs. Oh, honey, what 
fantastic boobs. Damn, I love the feel of them." 

He reached out and let his fingers clutch tightly against the warm, 
cone-like flesh. His eyes kept on widening and she could see that, in spite 
of his recently concluded orgasm, he was ready for some hot and eager 
action. 

Jack released his fingers suddenly from her breasts, then shoved his stiffly 
plunging tongue up between the pendulous, snowy white boobs of the gorgeous 
brunette. 

Linda's hips began to undulate frantically and a misty sheen of perspiration 
surfaced on her body as her enraptured lover kept on plunging with his 
soaring red tongue, letting the digit dart with unrestrained eagerness as it 
worked up between her jiggling, up-thrusting breasts. 

"OH, DARLING, OOOHHH, THIS FEELS SO VERY GOOOODD," Linda Gibson exclaimed. 
"COME ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, OHHHH, KEEP THAT HOT TONGUE DRIVING. MY DARLING. 
OOOHHH, I JUST LOVE IT. I LOVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME. I LIKE THE 
EXCITEMENT YOU'RE GENERATING INSIDE ME. OOOHHH, OHHHHH, KEEP IT GOING. YES, 
OOOHHH, REALLY KEEP IT GOIIIING." 

He let his tongue tease and entice her between her breasts for a few moments 
longer. When he finally released it from the shadowy valley which separated 
her pendulous white boobs, he then let it dart with unrestrained lewdness 
against the warm, voluptuous flesh of her searing breasts. 

Linda's entire body responded with spontaneous waves of surging passion as 
he shot his jolting red tongue with quick, seismic blasts against her silky 
white tits. She flipped her body in wild accommodation, rapidly propelling 
it instinctively upward to meet his swift, jarring strokes. Linda knew that, 
despite his earlier hesitation and fears, here was a man who was completely 
in charge of things. 

Every time that he sent his pulsating tongue against her firm, pendulous, 
white globes, she heaved ever deeper sighs, searing gasps of breath that let 
him know just how much she enjoyed being turned on by this handsome man. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHHH, I KNEW THERE WAS A TIGER IN YOU, I KNEW IT ALL ALONG," she 
exclaimed with delirious passion. "COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP THAT TONGUE MOVING. 
COME ON, REALLY LET IT GO. OOOHHH, OHHHH, SUCK MY BOOBS, COME ON, DARLING, 
OOOHHH, DO IIIIIITTTTT." 

His sturdy, hotly penetrating tongue kept moving from breast to breast as he 
left a blazing trail of hot, wet saliva against her succulent boobs. 
Occasionally his rippling tongue would lash out and eagerly attack one of 
her searingly stiff, red nipples, causing her firm, wiggling white ass 
cheeks to roll and thrust more excitedly than ever against the bed beneath 
her. 

Eventually Jack dropped his eyes down between Linda's warm, slightly 
twitching, sweat-stained thighs. He examined every smooth tuft of her brown 
pubic curls, and it pleased him to observe the wetness that matted her 
dampened pubic nest, indicating the tremendous intensity that she felt. 

His sharply darting fingers shoved forward as he resolutely hooked them 
against the trembling white flesh of her lusty naked thighs. He determinedly 
pried her smooth, firm thighs apart, then licked his lips with lascivious 
anticipation as he examined the deliciously enticing sight of her nakedly 
splayed thighs and the pink, moist twat that rested between them. 

"Oh, honey, you look absolutely delicious," he said in little more than a 
whisper. 

"I'm yours, honey. All of me." 

"That's so nice. Oh, yes, very nice. Okay, that's all I needed to hear." 

"Come and get me, darling." 

"Don't worry." 

Jack Garber smiled, and licked his lips once more, then pushed his swooping 
fingers downward, letting them pinch with firm rapidity against his lover's 
searing white bottom cheeks. He slapped them resoundingly several times, 
laughing as he watched with mounting joy while they began to take on a 
delightful reddish hue. All the while he licked his lips, anticipating some 
quick, well-timed tongue activity. 

Eventually Jack propelled his scorching red tongue forward, working it down 
between his lover's generously parted, smoothly tapered thighs and toward 
the ripeness of her juicy pink twat, which had accumulated a good deal of 
moisture in the last few minutes from all the frantic excitement that had 
been taking place. 

"COME ON, OHHHHH, HONEY, COME ON AND GET ME," she sighed. "OOOHHH, 
SWEETHEART. DO IT TO ME. REALLY TURN ME ON. OOOHHH, OHHHH, I WANT IT, I WANT 
IT, I REALLY WANT IT FROM YOU." 

At first Jack's tongue moved with slow, exploratory strokes, and all the 
while it kept on pushing against her gnarled brown pubic hairs. All it took 
was a little contact between his steaming, well-controlled tongue and her 
moist pubic curls to drive her into a seething inferno of combustible 
anxiety. All the while her well-rounded, shapely ass globes were twisting 
with the same degree of enthusiastic joy as they had before. He could see 
that he had obviously ignited a series of salacious sparks within the body 
of the woman who had initially ignited his own fires. 

The panting Jack watched the steady crescendo of spontaneously generated ass 
twisting as he kept on spiritedly applying his relentless tongue with 
ever-rising speed. After letting his soaring tongue slice against her smooth 
pubic locks, he decided it was time to dig a little deeper and explore the 
portals of her pink, moist, pouting pussy lips, which seemed to stare up at 
him like a human being, begging for the quick, probing attention that they 
eagerly desired. 

"OOOHHH, COME ON AND GET ME, TIGER," she shrieked with lascivious delight. 
"COME ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, I WANT 

IT. OOOHHH, I WANT YOU. YES, OOOHHH, I WANT YOU TO TURN ME ON, TO EXCITE ME. 
TO REALLY EXCITE ME. OOOHHH, OHHHHHH, YES, COME ON, OOOHHH, DO IT. OOOHHH, 
COME ON, JUST DRIVE YOUR TONGUE. OOOHHH, REALLY DRIVE IT." 

He settled his head between her soft, supple thighs and inhaled the now 
familiar scent of her furry muff. Her hips rocked with steady sensuality as 
the brunette braced herself, preparing to receive his plunging tongue 
thrusts. 

"OOOHHH, YOU WANT MY PUSSY, OOOHHH, YOU REALLY WANT IT," she sighed 
excitedly. "OHHHH, DARLING, GO DOWN ON ME. OOOHH, COME ON, OOOHHH, EAT ME 
OUT. YES, OOOHHH, I NEED IT SO BAD. OOOHHH, HOW BADLY I NEED IIIIITTT." 

Provocatively, Jack reached out with both hands, slapping with his fingers 
once more against the firm ripeness of her fleshy ass cheeks, watching with 
delirious delight as they reddened. 

"You really like slapping my butt, don't you?" she smiled tauntingly. 

"Yes, I do. I love doing all kinds of things to that fantastic body of 
yours. What a gorgeous body it is." 

"Come on, darling. Keep turning me on. You can do it to me so easily." 

"Yes. It seems to come natural," he grinned. "Oh, when I think of all the 
problems I had. How I just couldn't get on track. How I couldn't let myself 
go. How I'd get plagued by guilt feelings. But now I feel so great. I can't 
seem to get enough of you, honey." 

"Yes. We both feel the same way. Okay, tiger. Just completely turn on. Let's 
do it. Let's really excite each other." 

"Oh, yes, honey. That's what we'll do. We'll excite each other, all right." 

With that she spread her warm, glistening thighs, allowing Jack to take a 
good look at the wet warmth of her pink, dewy slit. 

"OOOHHH, TIGER, COME ON, EAT OUT MY PUSSY," she told him. "COME ON, OOOHHH, 
WORK THAT HOT TONGUE OF YOURS. REALLY LET IT DRIVE. OOOHHH, SUCK ME. YES, 
OOOHHH, SUCK OUT MY HOT PUSSY. I NEED IT. IT NEEDS YOUR TONGUE. OOOHHH, 
OOOHHH, DARLING, OHHHHH, WORK YOUR TONGUE INSIDE MY MUUUFFF." 

His long, piercing, red tongue tensed slightly at the intriguing prospect of 
letting it glide with delightful passion inside of the brunette's moist 
slit. 

Slowly Jack eased his fingers against her wet, fleecy pubic vee a few times, 
listening to the deliciously invigorating sounds of his fingers as they 
penetrated her seepingly moist cuntal petals. After that he put his savory 
tongue to work with uninhibited delight, driving it with invigorating 
passion as he pushed and pumped it inside of her warm, appetizing nest. 

Immediately Linda's firm, sensuous hips began dancing earnestly as her 
lover's stiffly projecting red tongue blasted away, generating additional 
steam with each stroke, eagerly pushing and sliding his enchanting partner 
that much closer to the delirious moment when he would be able to once again 
taste her delicious cuntal nectar. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, SUCK MEEEEE," she sighed. "COME ON, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, 
DRIVE YOUR TONGUE. YES, OOOHHH, WHAT A WILD TONGUE, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL TONGUE. 
I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO GET ME OFF. OOOHHH, OOOHHH, KEEP IT MOVING. 
OOOHHH, SUCK MEEEE." 

Linda's firm, sensuous hips began dancing eagerly as Jack's stiffly 
projecting red tongue kept on pushing and pumping, sliding inside the warmth 
of her seethingly alive vagina, which he was pushing that much closer to the 
point of a wild and ecstatic climax. 

Lasciviously his sweeping red tongue continued rotating against her damp 
slit petals. There was no holding back as far as either of them was 
concerned, something that made Linda feel a tremendous measure of triumph. 
Here was a man who was sobbing and shrieking like a helpless little boy, 
telling her that there was no way he could feel and sustain a level of 
sexual excitement. But now here he was, turning on with each and every 
stroke, and all the while his tongue kept on driving with devastating 
desire, manipulating against the warmth of her burning twat as he reached 
down and moved his fingers sharply and briskly against her compact, 
well-rounded buttocks, which twisted with frenzied desire as he moved her 
that much closer to the goal that they shared. She was every bit as eager to 
unload an avalanche of flaming pussy goo every bit as much as he was to 
enjoy each and every delightful morsel that splashed from her inflamed nest. 

The faster that Jack drove his scintillating tongue inside the wetness of 
her torrid box, the quicker that her body in turn vibrated with increasing 
excitement. Yet, on the other hand, Linda knew just how eager she was to 
unload her juices. The dual sensations of wanting the act to last forever 
but yet, on the other hand, of wanting to explode her cuntal juices 
immediately intermerged. At one moment the desire for an instant orgasm 
surfaced while, on the other, she would lie back, close her eyes, and enjoy 
every quick, skewering thrust that his hotly dilating tongue provided. 

His oral digit twisted and jerked a few more times inside the sweltering 
confines of her moist, infatuated orifice. Each time that his probing tongue 
teased her, her ass cheeks would wiggle that much more sharply. He liked in 
particular to run his tongue slowly against her quiveringly erect clitoris, 
and every time that he did so she would let out a loud, searing gasp. 

"OOOHHH, DARLING, HONEY, OOOHHHH, MY CLIT'S ON FIIIlRE," she told him. 
"OOOHHH, OHHHH, AAAHHH, KEEP DRIVING YOUR TONGUE. OOOHHH, HONEY. YES, OHHHH, 
I'M GONNA FEEL THAT HOT, TWISTING TONGUE. I'M GONNA FEEL IT DRIVING UP 
BETWEEN MY LEGS. OOOHHH, HONEY, COME ON, EAT 

ME OUT. YES, OOOHHH, YOUR TONGUE CAN DO IT. WHAT A TREMENDOUS TONGUE. 
OOOHHH, I REALLY FEEL THE EXCITEMENT!" 

Beads of sweat rolled down her exquisitely tapered thighs as she kept on 
loudly gasping, her diligent body twisting ardently as she enjoyed the 
spirited release of her stored up pussy juices. 

While she contemplated the dimensions of what lay ahead, she felt the warm, 
quivering fingers of Jack Garber as they made steady contact with her 
buttocks as he pushed her that much closer to the point of orgasm. 

Finally she became overwhelmed with feelings of intensity in her loins, and 
now the fiery sensations in her cunt pushed her to new heights of ecstasy. 
She knew that there was no way that she could hold back the feelings of 
undiminished passion that flowed through her entire body. 

"OOOHHH, OHHH, AAAHH, HERE I GOOOOO," she sighed. "OOOHHH, OHHHH, AAAHHH, 
SUCK IT ALL OUT OF ME. OOOHHH, DARLING, OHHHH, AAAHHH, HOW I LOVE IT. 
OOOHHH, I REALLY LOVE IT. OOOHHH, OHHHH, EAT OUT MY NEST, DARLING. YES, 
OHHHH, AAAHHHH, I REALLY WANT IT. OHHHH, DO IT TO ME. YES, OOOHHH, AAAHHHH, 
I REALLY WANT IT. OHHHHH, DO IT TO ME. YES, OOOHHH, REALLY DO IIIIIITTT." 

His quickly charging tongue continued to glide and thrust as he worked it 
inside the wet warmth of her hot, impassioned hole. After he swallowed m 
every delightful drop of her pussy fluid, he released his tongue from her 
organ, then reached down and played with her cheeky buttocks, watching as 
she slowly extended her damp, sweaty legs. 

"What a tongue man you are, honey," she looked at him and smiled. 

"Yes, your pussy brought out the best in me," he said. "The way you turned 
me on, Linda. Oh, when you sucked my cock. That felt so fantastic." 

"Yes, my dear. We really did turn each other on. This is terrific. Ohhhh, I 
just love it." 

"I love being around you." 

"Oh, yes. We're good for each other." 

He kept staring down at her sweat-stained form. Her figure, he couldn't help 
but conclude, was that of ultimate perfection. The longer that he stared at 
her ripe, succulent flesh, the more excited he became, and now his prick was 
every bit as stiff as it had been prior to his last orgasm. 

Jack Garber heaved a deep sigh, then pushed his scalding, blue-veined spear 
forward, determined to thoroughly dominate Linda Gibson. His fingers reached 
down and crisply glided against the warmth of her firm breasts, which thrust 
in an upward fashion to meet his stirring finger efforts. 

As he shoved his sweeping penis forward and let it find the mark for the 
first time inside her moist mound, the brunette beauty let out an 
animalistic mewl. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, YOU'RE INSIDE ME, MY DARLIIING," she loudly exclaimed. "COME 
ON, OHHHH, MY DEAR. YOU KNOW HOW TO DO IT. OOOHHH, YOU 

REALLY KNOW HOW TO EXCITE ME. OOOHHH, COME ON, REALLY TURN ME ON. LET YOUR 
COCK GO TO WORK. OHHHH, DOMINATE ME WITH IT, MY SWEET. YES, OOOHHH, I KNOW 
YOU CAN. YOUR HARD, STIFF PRICK CAN DO IT. OOOHHH, REALLY SCREW ME. YES, 
OOOHHH, KEEP IT GOING. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, YES, OOOHHH, REALLY 
SCREW MEEEEEEE." 

Her legs trembled with impassioned joy and her cheeks reddened as Linda's 
hips and ass cheeks rode back and forth as she responded to every quick, 
skewering thrust that Jack Garber's thoroughly dominating joy stick sent 
forth inside the inner tightness of her warm, wet womb. 

He loved the way that her pussy muscles clung sharply to his tightly 
intruding, stiff cock penetrations. She tightened her thighs resolutely, 
heaving deep sighs as he kept on pushing and plunging with his torrid organ, 
which he drove into the seething depths of her fiery cuntal inferno. 

His muscles tensed with surging anxiety as his spearing efforts continued, 
his thickly probing shaft digging deep inside her moist mound. Jack loved 
hearing the delicious sounds of cock and cunt making determined contact, the 
delightfully squishy sounds of his resounding, blue-veined organ tearing 
deeply into the tight inner recesses of Linda's moist, inflamed pink pussy. 

"OOOHHH, DAMNED, OOOHHH, WHAT A TIGHT CUNT YOU ARE," he exclaimed. "COME ON, 
HONEY. OOOHHH, KEEP ON 

WORKING THOSE HOT HIPS, THAT FANTASTIC BUTT." 

"like this?" she intensified her efforts. 

"Yes, that's right, that's the way I love it," he sighed. "OOOHHH, OHHHH, 
KEEP IT GOING. OOOHHH, DARLING, OOOHHH, THIS IS FUCKING. OHHHH, DAMNED, I 
LOVE IT, I LOVE IT." 

Once more he reached down and let his hands slap against Linda's rapidly 
twisting buttocks. She loved knowing that she was being thoroughly dominated 
by this ruggedly handsome man, someone who had formerly been impotent, but 
who was now very much in the swing of things, able to turn on in every 
conceivable way. 

He could feel the scorching waves of need in his sweltering testicles as he 
pushed that much closer to climax. His nuts had reached the broiling point, 
and as he kept on pushing and shoving with his hard, twisting cock, he knew 
that the moment had arrived as he kept on shoving his rapier-like spear into 
the burning depths of Linda's tight cuntal cauldron. 

"OOOHHH, COME ON, HONEY, I'M GETTING SO CLOSE," he told her. "COME ON, 
OOOHHH, KEEP FLINGING THAT BEAUTIFUL BODY OF YOURS AROUND. THE LONGER YOU 
KEEP IT UP, OOOHHH, THE MORE EXCITED I GET." 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, BABY, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE," she told him, her ass cheeks 
flouncing and twisting against the bed beneath her, causing the bed springs 
to jangle. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, THERE I GO. OOOHHH, OHHHH, OOOHHH, DARLING. YES, OOOHHH, I'M 
JUICING. OOOHHH, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. OOOHHH, OHHHH, WHAT A FEELING. 
YES, WHAT A WONDERFUL FEELIIIING." 

She listened to his loud, heavy gasps as the juices continued to explode 
from her seething cuntal nest. 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

Spurred on by his beautiful lover's last frantic orgasm, Jack Garber braced 
himself, realizing that he was entering the final stages of his screw. 

He loved the manner in which her pussy muscles clasped tightly against his 
stiff, steady forward intrusions. Linda wrapped her warm legs fervently 
around her rampaging lover's ribs as his dashing, hard prick battered her 
cervix and pushed him that much closer to a stirring climax. His hot breath 
came in increasingly shorter gasps as his lover rocked her warm, invigorated 
buttocks in response to his every decisive forward plunge. He squeezed her 
breasts and nipples, eventually tweaking her taut, crinkly pink nipple flesh 
as he felt the impending explosion continuing to build in his loins. 

"OOOHHH, WHAT A FUCK YOU ARE," he told her. "COME ON, OHHHHH, HONEY. KEEP 
MOVING THAT HOT BUTT OF YOURS. OOOHHH, SLIDE YOUR ASS CHEEKS BACK AND FORTH. 
WHAT A FEELING, OOOHHH, THIS IS SO GOOD. OOOHHH, IS THIS EVER GREAT. OOOHHH, 
WHAT FANTASTIC SCREWING. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE 
IIIITTTT." 

As for Linda, she was in a state of delirious ecstasy. Once again she could 
feel the fires of orgasm surfacing in her cuntal inferno. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, HERE IT GOOOO-EEESSS," she sighed. "OOOHHH, OHHHH, I LOVE 
IT. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, OHHHH, THE STUFF'S SHOOTING. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, IT'S REALLY 
SHOOTING. OOOHHH, DARLING, OHHHH, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IIIITTT." 

Frenziedly the blazing juices of womanhood started to gush from her 
invigorated cunt. As her body began to whip with ever greater frenzy, 
her-writhing hips moving in an enchanting crescendo of wild desire. All the 
while, Jack Garber knew just how closely he had maneuvered his way to the 
moment of unswerving ecstasy when the thick, explosive white juice would 
pour thunderously from the end of his sturdy, emblazoned shaft. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHHH, FUCK UP TO ME, FUCK UP TO ME, I'M SO CLOSE, SO CLOSE, SO 
VERY CLOOOOOSE," he called out excitedly. 

Jack's eyes widened and beads of perspiration began to drip down both sides 
of his face as he kept on rocking and slamming with his stinging cock, 
driving it into the inner tightness of her pink folds of pussy flesh. He 
stretched her resilient cunt muscles to the limit, reaching down and 
fondling her warm, tightly constructed ass cheeks as the spurting drops of 
his thick, white semen began to explode from the end of his towering, tumid 
shaft. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, HERE IT IIIISSS," he called out with an air of celebration. 
"OOOHHH, HONEY, OOOHHH, KEEP FLINGING YOUR HOT BUTT. YES, OOOHHH, IT FEELS 
SO NICE. OOOHHH, OHHH, I'M SHOOTING. OOOHHH, HONEY, DARLING, OOOHHH, TAKE 
IT, OHHHH, YOU LOVE IT, OOOHHH, A AAAHHH, OOOHHHH, I KNOW YOU LOVE 
IIIIITTT." 

At first only a few droplets of seething white fluid eased out of the end of 
his scalding, blood-engorged member, but a few seconds later the wild deluge 
was on as the prolific stream of his invigorating cock fluid splashed 
thunderously in a geyser-like flood tide from the end of his towering, erect 
organ, devastating his lover's squirming, wet cunt. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, KEEP ON FUCKING MEEE," Linda sighed. "OOOHHH, COME ON, 
OOOHHH, KEEP SCREWING ME. OOOHHH, FUCK ME, YES, KEEP ON FUCKING MEEE." 

Jack kept on steadily hammering his wildly impassioned lover with increasing 
force, reaching down and grinding his fingers steadily and sturdily against 
her warm, sweltering thighs as the final few drops of his steadily exploding 
juice spilled from the end of his hot, burly tool. 

Finally Jack eased his satisfied cock from out between his lover's 
sweat-dampened thighs. He watched with a broad smile on his lips as he 
continued to hear sounds of heavy breathing emanating from his beautiful 
brunette lover. He reached down and soothingly glided his right hand over 
the soft, lustrous skin of Linda's face. 

"Oh, honey, I still can't believe what happened," he sighed, easing his cock 
from her pussy. 

"I'm glad I was able to turn you on," she smiled. "I'll let you in on a 
little secret, honey." 

"What's that?" he eyed her curiously. 

"I was turned on to you right from the beginning." 

"You really were?" 

"That's right." 

"You mean you wanted to fuck right from the time that you walked in here?" 

"I was excited. No, I wasn't quite that daring." 

"You sure struck me as daring," he laughed. "A lot more daring than I was, 
anyway. I was afraid of my own shadow." 

"Oh, no, I don't think you really were," she smiled. "You just needed a 
little encouragement, that's all." 

"Maybe so. I don't know. I sure felt scared, though." 

"Once that you got rolling, that cock of yours was anything but scared," she 
told him, easing her beautiful, sweat-dampened body upward from the bed. 

"You do have such a beautiful body," he said. "I like everything about it. 
You're such a gorgeous woman." 

"Thank you. I really appreciate hearing that from you." 

"Oh, damned. Just look at that butt. That glorious, beautiful butt." 

"You're so sweet to pay me all these compliments." 

"I couldn't hope to compliment you too much. Not after the rousing fuck you 
just gave me." 

"It was easy to get turned on around somebody like you." 

"You really were excited by me right from the beginning?" 

"That's right. But I didn't know if I'd go all the way with you. That was 
something that could only be determined over a course of time." 

"I guess that's true. Oh, honey, I'll tell you something. I think I was 
drawn to you right from the beginning. I kept telling myself that you had a 
beautiful face that I wanted to paint, but there was a hell of a lot more to 
it than that. Hell, yes. There were sensual longings inside me. Tremendous 
longings. I wanted to screw you. I wanted to give you a fantastic fuck." 

"It looks as if you succeeded and succeeded beautifully." 

"Yeah. It looks like I've got myself on track now. I'll tell you something. 
I feel relaxed." 

"I told you that you would," she nodded, reaching down and picking up her 
panties. 

"How about taking a shower?" he smiled. "It'll refresh you. You worked up 
quite a sweat with all that intense fucking." 

"Yes, I did." 

"Then go ahead. The bathroom's just across the hall." 

"I think I might do that." 

"You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." 

She walked into the bathroom, easing her satisfied body into the shower. As 
the warm, invigorating shower water splashed against her face and body, the 
beautiful brunette could not help but feel a tremendous measure of 
accomplishment. After all, she had been dealing with a man who had been in a 
terrible plight, and had been unable to become aroused by anyone. She had 
taken care of that, and now he was feeling much better. She couldn't help 
but be amazed over just how impassioned a man he was once that he got going. 

Linda stepped out of the shower and dried off her body, after which she 
walked into the bedroom and began to put on her clothes. Jack Garber was 
nowhere to be seen. 

When she had finished dressing and walked back into the living room, she 
observed Jack sitting poised opposite a canvas. He was gingerly applying 
paint to it. She walked over and observed a picture of a sloping lawn and a 
shady tree, which appeared to resemble his front yard. 

"You're painting your yard?" she asked. 

"Yes," he grinned. "Just a little something to get me back into practice. 
You did this to me, honey. You awakened me to new creative heights." 

"I'm sure glad I was able to help." 

"Yes, definitely so. What a beautiful woman you are. Oh, I just love that 
body of yours. I'm still gonna have to paint you sometime." 

"I'm flattered. Maybe I'll let you do it," Linda laughed. 

"What a beautiful body you have." 

Linda leaned forward. She planted a good-bye kiss to Jack Garber's lips, 
then left him alone with his paint and easel. 

When Linda arrived back at the office, her boss immediately wanted to see 
her. 

"So how did it go?" Ted Monday asked. 

For the next few minutes Linda explained some of what she encountered at 
Jack Garber's house. She did not mention one solitary thing about the 
physical therapy that she had applied. Even though she was doing a good deal 
of embroidering, apparently" her verbal account was enough to satisfy Ted 
Monday. He lit a fresh cigarette, threw his legs over the top of his desk, 
and smiled broadly. 

"I like that, I really like it," he said. 

"You mean you want me to write it up just the way that I explained it to 
you?" 

"Definitely, absolutely," he nodded emphatically. "You know, that first 
story went over really big. We sold a hell of a lot of newspapers and our 
circulation increased. It's just like when we had dear old Nora here. I love 
the way you're pickin' this up. I knew you'd adapt, but I didn't have any 
idea you could do it this quickly. I get the feeling you really like this 
column now. At first you had to be practically dragged kicking and 
screaming." 

"Yes, I'm learning to like it," Linda smiled. 

"Just write up that account the way that you described it to me. Don't 
change a thing." 

"I won't." 

"Good work, my dear." 

"Don't praise me until you've seen the story." 

"I guess you're right," Ted laughed, taking a puff from his cigarette. "But 
as long as you write the story about the same way that you described things 
to me, then we shouldn't have any problems. We shouldn't have any problems 
at all." 

Linda left Ted Monday's office, walking back to her desk, where she slipped 
a piece of paper into her typewriter and began contemplating her next 
assignment. She had to laugh to herself when she thought about Ted Monday 
concluding that she really was beginning to get the hang of the column, and 
was learning to enjoy her assignments as well. She was enjoying them in ways 
that Ted did not know about, and hopefully never would. 

 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

When Linda's story concerning Jack Garber was published, it went over in a 
big way. 

She gave the artist a fictitious name and changed other pertinent facts so 
that there was no way that anybody could determine just who she was writing 
about. All the same, the response generated was tremendous, and Ted Monday 
was elated. 

"The circulation's picked up again," he grinned triumphantly. "I just knew 
that you'd have a flare for this column, honey. The only big surprise, like 

I said before, was just how fast this whole thing took off. The way that you 
were able to master this whole thing. It's incredible." 

Several days later she received an interesting letter, one that she thought 
she would personally respond to. In the intervening period she merely made 
up letters, used fictitious names, and provided her own replies. 

This was an interesting letter, one that she definitely thought she should 
look into. 

It said: 

Dear Miss North: I am in a very depressed frame of mind, and I think when I 
tell you, you'll completely understand. I came here to the San Francisco 
area just a few short weeks ago. It was my intention to marry my fiancee 
from my hometown in Sauo Paulo, Brazil. 

After getting here, however, I received the biggest blow of my life. I was 
coming to study at the University of California at Berkeley. I was intending 
to major in engineering and even was set to move in with my fiancee. We were 
intending to get married first. As soon as I arrived there was a letter 
waiting for me. The apartment was vacant and I was able to take it, my 
fiancee having left me a month of free rent. Well, she was gone, having left 
with an American student she had met here. She announced her intentions of 
marrying him. Apparently his father is a prominent industrialist from the 
eastern part of the United States. 

I am just completely depressed and need to talk to somebody. Could you 
please call this number in 

Berkeley, where I am staying right now. 

Thank you for your consideration, Jose Carmona 

The now curious brunette beauty was determined to follow up on this 
opportunity. Here was a young Brazilian who was very much in a distraught 
frame of mind, apparently not knowing what to do with his life. It was the 
type of situation that had the perfect ingredients for a dramatic story. 

She immediately dialed the number. The young man had a pleasant although 
slightly distant-sounding voice, and had a distinct foreign accent. 

"Is this Jose Carmona?" she asked. 

"Yes, it is." 

"Hello there. This is Helene North. At least that's the name on my column. 
My name is Linda. Linda Gibson." 

"Oh, yes. I wrote the letter to you." 

"That's right. I'd like to come over and see you. To talk about your 
problems in person." 

"That would be very nice. I wasn't expecting that." 

"I find it's always much better to talk in person. You see, you'll be 
willing to reveal a lot of things in person that you wouldn't reveal on the 
telephone. It's only natural." 

"You have a very interesting point," Jose said. "Very well. I'll give you 
directions on how to find my apartment. It's right off of the campus of the 
University of California. You know where that is, don't you?" 

"As a native of San Francisco, I certainly do," Linda laughed. "Besides, I 
took a few journalism courses over there myself for a few summers." "Then 
you shouldn't have trouble finding it." "Not at all." 

She jotted down the address, told him that she would be there that 
afternoon, then walked into the office of Ted Monday. She waited until he 
finished his conversation on the telephone, after which he stared at her 
with a bright-eyed smile. 

"Hello there, star reporter," he said. 

"I don't know about that, Ted. I do know that there's another fascinating 
possibility." 

"Great. What is it this time?" 

"A poor stranded young fellow from Sauo Paulo, Brazil." 

"He's stranded?" 

"In a manner of speaking." 

"What's the problem?" 

Linda then proceeded to outline the basic contents of Jose Carmona's letter. 

"Poor jilted fellow," Ted shook his head. "I'll tell you. Those stories make 
for fantastic human interest. I envision another sharp rise in our 
circulation." 

"Hold on there, Ted. I know how gung-ho you can be, but I haven't even had 
an opportunity to talk to him yet. At least not in person. I just wanted to 
inform you that I'm going over there this afternoon." 

"Great, great. I'm sure you'll get plenty of fascinating information and 
insight from him. Certainly enough to do a good story." 

"I hope so," she said. "I guess you know I'll be trying." 

"You're a fantastic investigative journalist," Ted Monday complimented her. 
"You have that reportorial instinct, honey. You're the one who can ferret 
out the facts that a second-rate or just competent reporter just never 
could. That's why you're so good." 

"Thank you very much. I appreciate that. But let's hold off and see just how 
well I do on the story. Jose, this young man, is gonna have a whole lot to 
say about it. Depending on how responsive he is." 

"If anybody can get information out of him, you can," Ted Monday smiled. 

She left his office, had lunch at a restaurant down the street from the 
newspaper, then climbed into her automobile and drove over the bridge to 
Oakland, and eventually, to Berkeley. 

She parked her car just in front of the small gray, two-story building where 
Jose Carmona had his apartment. As she climbed out of her automobile she saw 
two slender young men in shorts and T-shirts jogging down the street. She 
paid them no attention, but they immediately observed her beautiful body. 

"Hey, honey, where have you been all my life?" one of them asked as he 
jogged past, chuckling loudly. 

His friend let out a shrill wolf whistle. "How'd you like to jog with us?" 
one of them asked. 

"How would you boys like to do your jacking off in private?" she frowned. 
"Oh, hey, we've got a bitchy one on our hands," one of them laughed as they 
continued to jog down the street. 

Jose Carmona's apartment was on the second floor. She knocked on the door. A 
few moments later the young man answered it. He had a slender, muscular 
form, and was naked from the waist up. He wore a pair of tight-fitting blue 
jeans and loafers. She admired the smoothness of his brown, magnificently 
textured skin. 

"Hello there," she greeted him with a smile. 

"Yes, what is it?" he eyed her skeptically. 

"You were expecting me, I believe. That is, if you're Jose Carmona." 

"Yes, I'm Jose," he said. "You're not the person from the newspaper, are 
you?" 

"Yes, I am." 

"I don't believe it," he shook his head. 

"What don't you believe?" 

"That you can be so young and good looking," he said. "I just had you 
figured as somebody older. I guess because you write that column. Giving 
advice and all." 

"We young people can give advice, too, can't we?" she winked. 

Jose Carmona laughed. 

"Yes, that's true," he said. "Won't you please come in. I'm sorry. You just 
took me by surprise." 

"That's quite all right." 

The apartment was sparsely furnished. She sat down on a tired sofa as the 
young man walked into the kitchen, where he extracted a couple of cold cans 
of beer from the refrigerator. He opened them and carried them into the 
living room. 

"It's easier when we talk," Jose said. "That's fine." 

Even though Linda hated the taste of beer, which she found bitter, she still 
politely nursed on the can of beer as Jose Carmona gulped down his, then 
began to pace the floor restlessly. 

"You don't know how it is when something like that happens to you," he said. 
"I mean, I really got hit over the head. It was terrible. Here I'm ready to 
marry this woman that I love so much, and then she's gone. I don't even know 
if I'll stay for the fall semester now." 

"Don't throw away your chance to get a good education, Jose, just because a 
woman has disappointed you," Linda said. 

"I don't know. Right now I just don't seem to care. Don't seem to care about 
anything." 

"That's a very disastrous attitude for a man as young as yourself. And 
foolish, too. You couldn't be any more than about twenty, twenty-one." 

"You're close. I'm twenty-two. But that doesn't mean that I can't be hurt. 
That doesn't mean that I can't get frustrated." 

"No, but you're young enough to throw all that off," she told him. 

He finished gulping down the rest of his beer, then stood before her with 
lust in his eyes. 

"How can I throw off the passions that I feel?" he asked. "I've been storing 
them up all this time for the beautiful woman of my dreams. I only had sex a 
few times with prostitutes in Sauo Paulo over the last year when my fiancee 
was here. Because I didn't want to be disloyal. But now look what has 
happened to me." 

"You're a handsome young man, Jose," she said. "Certainly you'll be able to 
find women who are attracted to you. Right here at the university, for 
instance, I'm sure there are plenty." 

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm just new in learning the ways of America." 

"You speak perfect English." 

"Of course. I learned English in school and was always around quite a few 
Americans. My father was in commerce and he was always entertaining 
Americans at our home. But it'll take me time to get acquainted with 
different things. With different customs. And I'm a little reluctant to just 
jump into sex with any woman. I guess you can understand that, considering 
how badly I've been disappointed this time." 

"Yes, I can understand that," she eyed him with sympathy. "But you've also 
got to realize that as I said before, you're young and you have plenty of 
time. It's very hard for you to comprehend something like this now, 
considering that you feel this sense of tragedy, but it happens to be the 
truth. Just wait and see." 

"Maybe you're right," he shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that I have 
these smoldering urges. like right now. You know, you're very beautiful. 
Incredibly beautiful. And your figure is voluptuous." 

"Why thank you," she gulped. 

"I can't believe how much I want you," he said, tossing his empty beer can 
aside. 

This time Linda was finding herself in a completely different situation. On 
two other occasions she had actually sought to bring out the two men who 
were in problematical situations, but now things were reversed. Here was a 
smoldering, dark-eyed, dark-haired young man who was practically trembling 
as he stood in front of her. 

He reached down with his right hand and unzipped his fly, which caused her 
to just stare in disbelief. He pulled out his long, hard cock, running his 
fingers up and down the full length of his huge, steely shaft. 

"Just look at my prick," he said. "You can't tell me that it isn't excited, 
ready for you. There's a lot of cock there, and I could provide you with 
lots of beautiful satisfaction." 

"You know, I believe you," she gulped. "Just look at the size of it." 

"Of course. It was so easy for me to get excited by somebody like you. What 
a woman, what a fantastic woman you are." 

"You're very lavish with the compliments, but you don't even know me yet," 
she laughed with just a tinge of embarrassment. 

"I know you well enough," he said. "You're a very direct-talking and active 
young woman, completely different, apparently, from my dear fiancee, damn 
her!" 

"Come on now, Jose. She might be just a very confused girl. Besides, the 
hate isn't gonna do you any good." 

"All right, to hell with her, we won't talk about her anymore," Jose said. 
"All I can think of is that I need sex and I need it right now. Just look at 
the size of my prick. Just look at it, Linda. Don't tell me you don't like 
the looks of it. If you didn't, you wouldn't be staring at it like you are. 
No, you're excited by my hard, stiff shaft. You're not the first woman who 
has been excited by it. It's long, hard, and always ready for action." 

The faster that his frantic fingers continued to pump and slide against the 
full length of his solid, erect man meat, the more thrilled that Linda 
Gibson became. She kept on staring longingly at his huge erection until, 
finally, he stepped up even closer to her, stopping as his cock rested only 
a scant few inches away from her slightly quivering hands. 

"Come on, reach out and grab my cock," he told her. "I want you to pump on 
it with your fingers, my darling. Come on, give me a good workout. Just 
slide your fingers up and down it a few times. I know you're gonna like 
that. You're gonna love it, in fact." 

"Okay," she nodded. 

Linda reached out with both hands, sliding her fingers over the resolute tip 
of Jose Carmona's hard, tumid shaft. 

"OOOHHH, OHHH, THAT'S NICE," Jose briskly nodded. "COME ON, OOOHHH, JUST 
KEEP YOUR FINGERS MOVING, MY DEAR. YES, I LIKE THAT. I LIKE THAT KIND OF 
ACTION. UP AND DOWN, COME ON, UP AND DOWN. MOVE YOUR FINGERS OVER THE WHOLE 
LENGTH OF MY COCK." 

Soon her fingers, picking up speed gradually, began to grind against the 
full length of his hard, aroused member. The faster that they pumped, the 
louder that he gasped. Soon she reached out and grabbed hold of his 
ever-ballooning testicles, which were mushrooming with steady rapidity. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, THAT'S SO GOOD," he grunted. "COME ON, OOOHHH, JUST A FEW 
MORE STROKES. MY DARLING, OOOHHH, I LOVE IT. I REALLY LOVE THE WAY YOU'RE 
FINGERING MY PRICK. OOOHHH, THAT'S SO NICE." 

After a few more strokes, Jose felt compelled to bring her action to a halt. 
He could already feel the trembling waves of excitement which he knew would 
culminate in a rapid orgasm. 

"Let go, let go," he gasped. 

Linda knew precisely why he was seeking to get her to release his cock. All 
the same, she decided to tease him about it. 

"How contradictory some of you guys can be," she winked. "One minute you're 
telling me that you want me to finger your cock, then the next you're 
telling me to let go. You should make up your mind." 

"My dear, I would have juiced if you hadn't let go," he told her. "I was 
excited, damned excited." 

"I know, my darling," she said. "I was just kidding." 

"I'm not kidding at what I'm gonna tell you right now," he told her. 

"What's that, my dear?" 

"We're going into the bedroom. Right now. This damned second." 

"I like a determined man," Linda grinned. 

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

Now they were both nude, settling together in Jose's bed. 

While Linda had been slipping out of her brassiere and panties, Jose had 
been busily at work pulling down the cover of his bed. Now he was easing his 
supple body into the bed, watching as the lovely, brown-haired Linda moved 
stealthily toward the bed. He loved her voluptuous, full-blown body, and as 
she eased herself down into the bed with him, he threw his arms around her 
and let his lips plunge sharply against hers. 

He kissed her with such ferocity that Linda's breath was practically taken 
away in the process. The handsome young Brazilian proceeded to kiss her 
several times in rapid succession, after which he then slid his hot, 
pulsating red tongue forward. 

"Open your mouth, my dear," he said. "I'm gonna give you a fantastic tongue 
kiss that you'll never forget." 

"If it's anything like the lip kisses, I don't know if I'll survive it," she 
laughed. 

"I do kiss with much force, don't I?" 

"You said that you were intense, that you needed sex, and I believe it, my 
dear. I've never seen anyone, as a matter-of-fact, who seemed to need it 
more." 

"Oh, yes. Saving myself for that awful woman, who betrayed me. Well, I'm 
sorry. We won't talk about her. No, we have this beautiful moment to share." 

"That's right, Jose. So come on, dominate me, darling. I want to feel your 
hot tongue thrusting inside my mouth." 

"Oh, yes. You'll feel it. You'll feel my plunging tongue inside your mouth." 

With that he pushed his tongue resolutely forward, gliding it into the wet, 
intimate warmth of his beautiful lover's mouth. Back and forth she felt him 
spiritedly gliding his tongue and the shapely Linda, eager to fulfill both 
herself and him to the ultimate extent, worked her tongue back and forth in 
a mutual flood tide of impassioned bliss. 

While tongue continued to hotly cascade against tongue, the young Brazilian 
reached out and let his fingers slide through Linda's hair. After the 
stirring, impassioned tongue kiss had come to an end, he released his tongue 
from Linda's mouth and let his fingers reach down and push tightly against 
the warmth of her searing, white, alabaster breasts. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, WHAT FANTASTIC TITS," he sighed. "OHHHH, I WAS ENTICED BY 
THEM FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. THEY'RE SO EXQUISITELY LOVELY. OOOHHH, I LOVE 
SINKING MY FINGERS AGAINST THEM." 

"OOOHHH, SWEETHEART, KEEP IT UUUUPP," she implored. "OOOHHH, THAT FEELS SO 
NICE. COME ON, OOOHHH, LET YOUR FINGERS DANCE. YES, OOOHHH, YES. THIS FEELS 
SO GOOD. OOOHHH, IT FEELS SO VERY GOOD. KEEP ON FINGERING MY BOOBS, DARLING. 
OOOHHH, I LOVE THIS ACTION. I LOVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING FOR ME. COME ON, 
OOOHHH, JUST GRIND YOUR FINGERS. GRIND THEM AGAINST MY HOT TITS." 

His fingers pushed and pried tightly against the warmth of her breasts, 
after which he then let them pinch against the crinkly tautness of her 
flaming red nipples. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, WHEN YOU TOUCH MY NIPPLES YOU TURN ME ON, DARLING, OOOHHH, 
DO YOU EVER TURN ME ON," she sighed. 

"That's good. You're a very sexy woman. You want sex, you love sex, you live 
for sex." 

"I guess you've got me down pat," Linda laughed, her ass cheeks wiggling 
provocatively. 

"Oh, yes. I love the way those hot ass cheeks wiggle. What a beautiful butt 
you have. You've got the most beautiful butt I've ever seen. Oh, it's 
fantastic, it's a work of beauty." 

"One man, a painter I met not long ago, said he wanted to paint me," Linda 
laughed. "I have an idea that he did have my sleek white butt in mind." 

"He'd have to," Jose nodded emphatically. "Oh, what an ass. And what 
beautiful breasts. I'm going to caress them, kiss them, make love to them." 

He removed his fingers from her breasts and nipples, then let his lips 
plunge forward. Back and forth his lips made rapid-fire contact with her 
breasts, after which he then let his tongue snake toward those same 
appetizing boobs. Back and forth he manipulated his spirited tongue, working 
it alternately between her left and right breast, after which he then let 
his dancing tongue pierce and push against her taut nipples. 

"OOOHHH, OOOOHHH, YOU KNOW JUST HOW TO EXCITE MEEE," she exclaimed. "COME 
ON, MY DEAR. OOOHHH, KEEP UP THE TONGUING. OOOHHH, WHAT SATISFACTION I'M 
GETTING. WHAT BEAUTIFUL SATISFACTION. OOOHHH, OHHHH, THAT'S SO NICE. OHHHH, 
WHAT A TONGUE. WHAT A FANTASTIC TONGUE. OOOHHH, HONEY, YOU KNOW HOW TO DO 
IT, OOOHHH, CAN YOU EVER MAKE LOVE TO ME." 

He promptly withdrew his tongue from her nipples, then let it drop down 
between her legs. He reached out with both hands and let his fingers push 
tightly against the fleshy warmth of her firm thighs. Accommodatingly she 
eased her legs apart, anticipating that he was about to suck her pussy. 

"OOOHHH, THAT'S IT, GO DOWN ON ME," she panted. "OOOHHH, I LIKE A GOOD MUFF 
DIVER. I LOVE IT WHEN A GUY KNOWS HOW TO REAM OUT MY PUSSY. I JUST LOVE IT, 
DARLING." 

Instead she received a surprise. Instead of driving his tongue against her 
dampened cuntal petals he pushed it up between her ripe, cheeky buttocks and 
shoved it into her tight anal passage. 

"OOOHHHH, YOU ASS LICKEEEEERRR," she loudly grunted. "OOOHHH, 
OOOOOOO-WWWWWW, OOOHHH, THE WAY YOUR TONGUE IS WORKING. OHHHH, AAAHHH, ARE 
YOU EVER TONGUING ME. OH, DARLING, OOOHHH, THE WAY YOU'RE WORKING YOUR 
TONGUE INSIDE MY ASSHOLE. OOOHHH, OHHHH, COME ON, TONGUE ME. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, 
TONGUE MY ASS. OHHHH, OHHHH, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IIIIIITTTTTT." 

Her hips and buttocks ground with hot, salacious anticipation as Jose 
Carmona kept on skillfully manipulating his tongue into the tight, piercing 
depths of Linda's ravaged rectum. She loved the stimulating sensation of his 
stiffly protruding tongue as it worked its way into the tightness of her hot 
hole. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, EVEN MY HUSBAND NEVER DID THIS," she sighed. "OH, BABY, 
OOOHHH, JOSE, DARLING. OOOHHH, KEEP TONGUING MY ASSHOLE. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, 
SWEETHEART. COME ON, OOOHHH, SUCK MY ASS. OOOHHH, TONGUE MY ASSHOLE." 

He worked his tongue inside her burning rectum for several more moments. 
When he finally released it, he took her by surprise once more. This time he 
put his fingers to work, reaching out with the first two fingers of his 
right hand, then letting them push and plunge into the tight depths of her 
ass-hole. Immediately he buried his fingers in her sphincter, which caused 
her to let out a loud howl of pain. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, COME ON, DARLING, DON'T RUIN IT," she warned him. "YOU'RE 
HURTING ME THAT WAY. YOU DON'T WANT TO HURT ME. YOU WANT TO MAKE LOVE TO ME. 
OOOHHH, HONEY, WE'VE GOT SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL GOING. PLEASE, OOOHHH, YOU'RE 
HURTING ME WITH THOSE FINGERS. GET THEM OUT OF MY ASSHOLE. OOOHHH, IT'S ONE 
THING TO TONGUE ME THERE, BUT IT'S SOMETHING ELSE TO FINGER ME." 

"You'll get used to it," Jose grinned. 

"Please, darling, take your fingers out of there," she begged. 

"No, I don't want to, and eventually you won't want me to," he grinned 
knowingly. 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Because you're gonna enjoy it. I know you will. You just need to get used 
to it, my dear. It'll happen very soon. Before you even know it." 

"Oh, no, I'm sure it won't," she shook her head emphatically. "Please, don't 
do it anymore. Turn your fingers loose." 

"Just lie back there," he said. "It'll all change. It'll all change in 
time." 

With that, his fingers kept on grinding, thrusting deep inside her ass-hole. 
Eventually she found herself instinctively and spontaneously flipping her 
buttocks back and forth even more rapidly than before. Not only that, but 
she was starting to feel wild waves of flowing sensation in her crotch. She 
could scarcely conceive of just what was happening to her. She remembered 
that knowing smile on Jose's face, and how confidently he had asserted that 
she would, in time, learn to enjoy the sensations of finger fucking in the 
same manner that she had loved getting her ass licked just a few moments 
earlier. 

"How do you feel now?" he asked, grinning knowingly once more. 

"I don't know," she shook her head. "It's all too confusing to me. I can 
still feel pain when you push your fingers good and hard into my ass-hole, 
but I also feel sensations. Oh, I feel good, in fact." 

"I told you that's what would happen," he laughed. "Oh, yeah, do I ever love 
fingering your ass. Ohhh, what a fantastic ass you've got. like I said, the 
most beautiful butt I've ever seen." 

"Would your fiancee let you finger her ass?" 

"I never tried it," he frowned. "That cold cunt. 

Besides, her ass wasn't as beautiful as yours. Maybe I would have tried it 
eventually if our relationship would have lasted, but remember what we said. 
We said that we wouldn't talk about her anymore." 

"Sorry. You're absolutely right." 

"This is really something. Oh, I can't believe it. The way that we're 
getting along." 

His fingers continued burrowing their way inside the tight, clinging warmth 
of her anal passage. He kept on jarring her time and again, driving deep 
inside her rectum, and all the while her hips and ass cheeks lasciviously 
wiggled as she became more and more accustomed to the finger-fucking 
sensations that he was emphatically employing. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, FINGER MEEEE," she sighed. "OOOHHH, DARLING. I DON'T KNOW 
WHAT'S GETTING INTO ME. MAYBE I'M TURNING INTO A WILD, HOT-BLOODED NYMPHO. 
OOOHHH, IT STILL HURTS A LITTLE, BUT I LOVE IT. I LOVE THE SENSATIONS. COME 
ON, OOOHHH, KEEP GRIPPING ME. KEEP SHOVING THOSE FINGERS DEEP INSIDE MY HOT 
HOLE. FINGER MY ASSHOLE, OOOHHH, DARLING, REALLY FINGER IIIIITTT." 

"Don't worry," he grinned. "I'll be fingering it, all right. I'll be 
fingering it plenty. Oh, what a tight ass. And when you flip that butt of 
yours around, oh, it's sensational. I love these fantastic feelings." 

"OOOHHH, AAAHHH, WHAT A FINGER FUCKER," she sighed. "COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP 
DRIVING YOUR FINGERS UP MY HOT 

ASS. OOOHHH, THIS FEELS SO NICE, SO NICE, OOOHHH, SO INCREDIBLY NIIICE." 

He kept on emphatically grinding his fingers into the tight inner depths of 
her ass-hole for a few more strokes, after which he then released his 
fingers from her ass-hole. 

Jose stared down at Linda with lust, his eyes focused squarely on her creamy 
ass cheeks.. He reached down with both hands and let his fingers squeeze 
against the compliant folds of firm flesh. 

"What beautiful ass cheeks," he said. "A perfectly shaped butt. The most 
fantastic butt I've ever seen. The most fantastic cheeks I've ever 
squeezed." 

"Oh, darling, it sounds so good, hearing you say all these wonderful 
things," she smiled. 

 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

Finally Jose Carmona released his fingers from the fleshy white bottom 
cheeks of Linda Gibson. 

"What are we gonna do next, tiger?" she looked up at him grinningly. 

"I'm gonna give you a beautiful treat," he smiled. 

Jose reached down with the same fingers that had previously driven up the 
shapely brunette's ass-hole. This time he let them dip inside her pussy, 
where he extracted some juices. She had been good and wet for quite some 
time, ever since she first began to get excited. 

"What are you gonna do, honey?" she asked, a little puzzled. 

"I'm gonna slide the juice up your ass," he explained. 

She watched as he promptly did just that, easing the juice up her anal 
passage. 

"What's this all about?" she asked. 

"Don't you know?" 

"No. I don't understand any of this." 

"I'm lubricating you. I want your ass to have a little give, so that it 
doesn't hurt you too much when I drive my cock inside it." 

"Say that again," 

"I just said I'm lubing your ass. I'll be sticking my cock inside it soon." 

"Oh, no, you're not one of those freaky guys, are you?" she looked at him 
with terror-filled eyes. 

"What do you mean freaky? I want to fuck your ass. I've never wanted 
anything more. My cock and balls are burning up, I tell you, actually 
burning." 

"Okay. They say I've got one of the tightest pussies around. I've never had 
any complaints getting fucked there." 

"No man would ever complain about getting to fuck you anywhere," Jose 
laughed. 

"Okay. Fine. If you really feel that way, then why don't you devour my pussy 
with your stiff cock?" 

"There's a very simple reason why I won't," he said. "I'm after your ass. 
That's about all I could think of ever since you slid your panties down your 
legs. When I got a look at those ripe, creamy cheeks, and I saw that tight 
ass-hole resting between them, I knew that that's where I had to fit my 
cock." 

"My gosh. This is getting crazy. Oh, please. Anything, but not that. Don't 
stick your cock up my ass." 

"Why not? You'll get plenty of beautiful, tight sensations there. I remember 
that you were complaining a lot when I wanted to stick my fingers up there. 
The complaints stopped soon enough. They stopped when you discovered just 
how many wonderful sensations you could get by having me drive my finger up 
your ass-hole." 

"But this is different," she complained earnestly. 

"Why is it? The only difference is that instead of sticking my fingers up 
there, this time I'll be sticking my prick in there." 

"But this will hurt like hell," she lamented. "I don't want to feel that 
terrible pain. Oh, no, please, don't do this to me. I beg of you, don't fuck 
my ass. I've never had it there before." 

"I thought you told me you were married once." 

"I was. But my husband wasn't that kind of an animal. One time he just was 
kind of kidding around. When he'd had quite a bit to drink. He just kind of 
suggested it. Mildly. He figured maybe that if I didn't object, well, then 
maybe he could go ahead and do it." 

"But you objected?" 

"You're damned right I did. I gave him such a tongue lashing that he never 
suggested anything like that again. 

"Then that was his mistake," Jose smiled coyly. 

"Of course it was. He suggested something awful and I wasn't about to give 
in." 

"No, my dear. His mistake was suggesting it in the first place." 

"How's that?" 

"He just should have taken your ass. He should have driven his hard cock up 
between your ass cheeks. That's what he should have done. Just like I finger 
fucked you earlier. You complained about that. But after you'd gotten it 
awhile, there weren't any more complaints." 

"But this will be different," she shook her head. "I thought you were a 
gentleman." 

"Being a gentleman can only take you so far," he smiled, "especially when 
you've got a hard cock like I have, and I'm looking at something as 
beautiful as that tight ass, the same ass that I sucked and shoved my 
fingers into. Just as you enjoyed the sensations I gave you before, you're 
gonna enjoy the sensations you get now." 

"Let's not do that. Come on now. I'll blow you. You can fuck my pussy. 
Anything you want to do, except for that." 

"I don't feel like negotiating," he said. "I'm much too horny for that. And 
I'm much too horny for your ass-hole. That's what I want. Nothing else will 
do." 

"You're being such a bastard." 

"I'm tired of all this talk," he shook his head. "It's time now for action." 

"Oh, please. I don't like that look in your eyes." 

"You're afraid of a little experimentation, but you won't be once that you 
get some sensations. The kinds of wild sensations I'm gonna supply." 

"I just don't believe this conversation. It's just crazy." 

"Oh, no, not at all. Furthermore, you'll enjoy getting your ass fucked. In 
time you will." 

He reached out and made a grab for her legs. She at First tried to withdraw 
them, letting them clench tightly, but she was unable to thwart her 
determined lover, who reached out and threw her thighs over his shoulders. 
Her buttocks and legs continued to writhe and buck, but soon she was out of 
breath and had not succeeded even in the slightest as he held on tightly to 
her firm thighs. 

"You're just tiring yourself out," he laughed. "You're gonna get a beautiful 
fuck, darling. You might just as well get used to what's gonna happen." 

"OH, NO, PLEASE, DON'T DO IT, DON'T DO IT TO ME," she shrieked. 

"Calm down, my darling." 

"I'll scream so loud I'll blow the top off of this building," she 
threatened. 

"It won't do you any good," he shook his head emphatically. "There are 
orgies here all the time. People screaming, freaking out, doing all kinds of 
things. So probably nobody will even pay any attention. Besides, you won't 
be screaming for long. You'll like my cock up your ass." 

"Oh, please. We've had a beautiful relationship up to now. Let me go." 

"Oh, no, not until I've stuck my long, hard cock up between your buns," he 
told her. 

He held on tightly to her thighs, staring down at the enticing appeal of her 
tiny ass-hole. 

Jose heaved a deep sigh, then shoved his thick, turgid cock forward, letting 
it make its initial penetration inside the searing tightness of her ass. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, YOU'RE KILLING ME, OOOHHH, STOP IT, YOU'RE HURTING ME, 
OOOHHH, YOU'RE REALLY HURTING MEEEEEE," she shrieked. 

As her whole body quivered in a combination of pain and fear, salty tears 
rolled down both sides of her face. 

"OH, PLEASE, PLEASE, DON'T DO IT TO ME AGAIN," she complained. 

"Quiet down, honey," he laughed. "I'm gonna keep on slamming my cock deep 
inside that hot butt. Oh, are you ever tight. A glorious fuck. A perfect fit 
for my long, hard dick. Better than anything I could have imagined. It's 
wonderful. Ooohhh, I'm gonna keep sinking my stiff prick inside you. I'm 
gonna keep fucking you until you've really known you've been fucked, until 
the thick white juice shoots out of my prick." 

Her ass cheeks twisted back and forth as he pushed his stiff, sturdy cock 
forward once more, shoving it even deeper this time as he pushed it into the 
tightness of her rectal passage. She heaved another deep sigh, let out a 
shriek, and more tears rolled down both sides of her face. 

"OH, PLEASE, PLEASE, STOP IIIITTT," she lamented. "OHHHH, YOU'RE KILLING ME 
WITH THAT HARD, LONG COCK. DON'T DO 

IT TO ME ANYMORE. PLEASE, OOOHHH, DON'T DO IT AGAIN. OOOHHH, IT HURTS TOO 
MUCH. OOOHHH, OHHHH, DON'T DO IT. OOOHHH, NO, PLEASE, DOOOON'T." 

But by that point in time, Jose Carmona was beyond being persuaded. All he 
could think of was his thick, towering shaft, and the manner in which he 
enjoyed driving his skewering man meat deep inside the tightness of her 
virginal hole. It made him feel good to know that his was the first stiff 
prick that had driven into the tightness of her anal passage. 

As he kept on driving his thickly protruding cock into the depths of her 
ravaged rectum, shoving it forward like an axe handle, he watched his 
thickly coated testicles as they plunged and scraped against her ripe nether 
cheeks. He loved listening to the lascivious sound of his ballooning balls 
slapping against her quivering bottom cheeks as he kept on ramming her hard 
and fast, slamming his turgid pole as deeply as he knew how, letting it 
drive with thundering impact into the depths of her anus. He detonated her 
sphincter time and again, continuing to push and shove with his stirring 
cock, propelling himself that much closer to orgasm with each and every 
swift, decisive penetration. 

Finally the brunette beauty began to experience different feelings than 
before. After the final few tears had rolled down her cheeks, she was 
starting to feel strange waves of satisfaction and lewd anticipation 
throughout her body, particularly in her crotch. She thought back to what 
this hot Latin had told her. He had been convinced that, in time, she would 
become acclimated to ass fucking. Now, as he continued to bury his stiff 
cock savagely inside her anal passage, she shoved her butt forward, actually 
anticipating and enjoying the quick, determined thrusts that he sent inside 
her ravaged behind. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, WHAT AN AAAA-SSSS," he grunted. "COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP 
SHOVING YOUR BUTT UP THERE. YES, OOOHHH, DO IT. THIS IS FUCKING. DAMNED, 
OOOHHH, WHAT A GOOD FUCK." 

He reached down with both hands, letting his fingers clutch tightly against 
her twisting, satiny ass globes. She loved the double sensations of his 
axe-handle-like cock driving deep into her ravaged rectum while, 
simultaneously, his fingers clung tightly and sharply to the warmth of her 
ass flesh. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, KEEP FUCKING MEEE," she sighed, her legs kicking back and 
forth unrestrainedly. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. YOU'RE RIGHT. OOOHHH, DARLING, 
YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. YOU SAID I'D ENJOY IT, OOOHHH, IT STILL HURTS, IT 
REALLY DOES, BUT I LOVE IT ANYWAY. OOOHHH, KEEP ON FUCKING ME. YES, OOOHHH, 
REALLY FUCK MY ASS." 

"I told you, you'd like it," he laughed. "The only question is how much 
longer I can keep it up. Ohhhh, those juices. They're ready to explode. Come 
on, keep flipping your butt back. Ohhh, flip it up. Flip that hot ass." 

His fingers squeezed her firm, ripe ass cheeks even more tightly than 
before. He kept on driving his towering man meat skeweringly into her 
ass-hole Back and forth he kept on pumping steadily until, finally, he could 
feel the surging waves of passion in his loins. His testicles expanded more 
rapidly than ever as he recognized that he was in the final throes of the 
sex act. Soon the splashing drops of his searing white penis fluid would 
have to explode from the end of his stiff prick. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, HERE IT GOOES," he bellowed. "OOOHHH, COME ON, KEEP THAT 
HOT ASS TWISTING. HONEY, OOOHHH, OHHHH, WHAT A FUCK. OH, DAMNED, I LOVE 
WATCHING THOSE ASS CHEEKS WIGGLE. WHAT A BUTT, OOOHHH, WHAT A HOT ASS. 
OOOHHH, DO I LOVE SINKING MY PRICK INSIDE IT. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, THIS IS SO 
GOOOO-DDDDD." 

He panted and sighed, continuing to pump and thrust with his piercing penis 
until, finally, the last few drops of his thick, explosive liquid finished 
splashing from the end of his hard, torrid spear. 

Slowly the now satisfied Jose Carmona released his cock from Linda's 
ass-hole. He patted her buttocks affectionately. 

"It'll hurt for a while," he said, "but it was a terrific fuck. It's one 
that you'll never forget, darling." 

"No. I wonder if the pain in my ass will ever go away," she grimaced. 

"Of course it will. As a matter-of-fact, in time you'll get used to ass 
fucking." 

"I don't know if I could ever go through it again." 

"Yes, you could," he promised her, nodding emphatically. "You're a sensuous 
woman. There's no such thing as too sensuous a fuck for you." 

"You certainly think you now me well considering in particular how little 
time you've actually known me." 

"I could sense what you were right from the beginning," he smiled. "In 
addition to being built ideally for sex, I think your instincts would pull 
you in that direction as well. You want it, my darling, you really want it, 
and I was determined to give it to you." 

"That you did," she said, pointing toward her rectum, which was still 
paining her in the aftermath of the sex she had experienced. 

 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

A pleased Ted Monday was elated over the fact that Linda's column was going 
over magnificently. 

After she had achieved her latest success by writing up an altered version 
of what had happened in her discussion with Jose Carmona, she began to be 
besieged by more readers than ever. Now scores of people were calling and 
writing, asking for an opportunity to talk with the understanding Helene 
North. 

Monday held a fistful of mail in his hand, all of it unopened and waiting 
for the lovely Linda's perusal. 

"Just look at this," he hoisted the mail proudly in his fist. "Look at the 
response we're getting. This is nothing short of fantastic, my dear. It's 
absolutely incredible." 

"Thank you very much," she smiled, chuckling to herself. If only, she 
thought, Ted Monday knew the actual truth, just how she was able to extract 
such detailed personal information from her subjects. 

"I've got an idea for you," he exclaimed. 

"I'm always willing to listen. Particularly to such a highly knowledgeable 
person as yourself." 

"How nice of you to say." 

"After all, this whole thing was your idea. You suggesting me to do this. At 
the time I thought you were nuts. I never thought it would go over." 

"Let's just say I could spot potential. That's one of the requirements of my 
job. But you're the one that put it over, Linda, my dear. At any rate, I've 
noticed that thus far you've been talking almost completely to men. That is 
your big stories. They've been interviews of troubled young men. Isn't that 
right?" 

"Yes, come to think of it, you're right," she nodded. 

"Well, in addition to getting the high circulation and all, there has been a 
little bit of a vacuum created," he carefully explained. 

"What kind of vacuum?" 

"Well, women, for instance." 

"I've been putting letters in there from women, too." 

"But none of your big stories, your special exclusives, have been on women," 
he told her. "I think that something on a woman in difficulty. Better yet, a 
young and attractive woman. Well, a story like that has sex appeal. It's the 
kind of story that will send all kinds of guys out scurrying for newspapers 
and it'll get us a lot of subscriptions in the process. You follow me?" 

"Yes. I see what you're driving at." 

"Here's what I would like for you to do. I'd like you to check this mail 
carefully. I mean, it's coming in now by the bushel," he laughed. "There's 
just got to be something interesting in there, I would think, concerning the 
plight of a young woman. I want you to read your letters very carefully and 
follow up on at least one good lead. A letter from a young woman." 

"All right, boss. I'll look into it right now." 

"Good girl. We're pushing all the right buttons and we're gonna continue 
playing the game that way. Isn't that right?" 

"I certainly hope so," she replied. 

That afternoon Linda spent all of her time going through letters. She hated 
the fact that there were a few highly interesting ones from men, letters she 
would have liked to follow up on to meet the writers. Instead she was forced 
to locate an interesting letter from a woman. She filed a number aside, then 
finally, after much scrutiny, came upon one that looked as if it would 
fulfill the requirements set forth by Ted Monday. 

The letter read as follows: 

Dear Helene North: I have had such a trying year. It has been next to 
impossible for me to do much of anything because of the depression I'm 
inclined to feel. It can hit at any time. I'm not saying that I'm down in 
the dumps always, but often enough to where I can't seem to unclutter my 
life. 

The big problem came when I was involved in a very strange triangle. My 
husband became very jealous of a woman who was a close friend of mine. As a 
result he burst into our apartment and shot her, almost costing her her 
life. 

Since then I have gotten a divorce from my husband, who fortunately moved 
far away from me. I never see him again, but this terrible memory haunts me 
and I continue to feel a tremendous sense of guilt over the fact that this 
poor woman who had befriended me to such an extent almost lost her life. 

I certainly would like to have an opportunity to talk with you in greater 
detail about my problem. I am an attractive young woman in my middle 
twenties but yet can't even seem to summon up enough in the way of 
self-confidence to go out with an eligible male. 

Any of your help would be appreciated. 

Yours truly, Eileen Lacey 

Eileen Lacey left both her telephone number and her address. Immediately 
Linda got on the telephone, getting through to Eileen Lacey. 

"Eileen, this is the woman who writes the Helene North column," Linda began. 
"My name is Linda 

Gibson." 

"Oh, yes. You did call me. I wondered if you would. Or if I'd even get a 
reply." 

"I try and answer any pertinent correspondence." 

"I'm so happy that you'd answer my letter." 

"I'd like to drop out to see you, Eileen. Would you be available to see me 
later this afternoon?" 

"Oh, sure. Whenever you like. I'm not doing anything but just sitting around 
here and watching television." 

"Let me see. Judging by the address it looks as if you're somewhere around 
Fishermen's Wharf. Is that right?" 

"Not far away." 

"I know the area. Yes. I'll be there in about an hour or so. I have a few 
little chores here to take care of at the office, and then I'll be there." 

"Oh, thank you very much. I'll be looking forward to seeing you." 

"Good-bye," Linda said. 

Linda hated the fact that she had to be visiting a young woman, when, 
instead, she could be visiting a man and perhaps embarking upon another wild 
sexual adventure. All the same, there was something about the pathos in 
young Eileen Lacey's voice that made her feel a strong sense of 
determination to help her, or at least hear her out. For one thing they both 
had to be around the same age, since she was twenty-five, as middle a 
middle-twenty person as one could be. For another, she was curious to find 
out more about the details relating to the tragic problem involving her 
ex-husband and her girl friend. 

The apartment was in a reasonably fashionable section, which surprised 
Linda. Judging from the letter that Eileen Lacey had written, she had 
expected to find a down-and-out, confused young woman. Instead a statuesque, 
beautiful blonde answered the door, admitting her into her apartment. 

"Hello, I'm Eileen," the blue-eyed blonde smiled, showing her glistening 
white teeth. 

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Linda," Linda replied. 

The blonde showed her into the spacious living room of the neatly furnished 
apartment. On the walls she could see pictures of her young blonde hostess. 
In some of them she was clad in a bathing suit, several revealing bikini 
poses. Yet other pictures were head shots of the lovely blonde taken from 
different angles. 

"I thought that face of yours looked familiar right from the time you 
answered the door," Linda smiled as she sat down on the sofa. "Now I know 
where I've seen it. I've seen it on television. You've done some cosmetic 
commercials, haven't you?" 

"That's right," Eileen Lacey nodded, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa 
from the newspaper columnist. "I guess it would have to be said that I'm one 
of the most popular models in San Francisco." 

"Oh, yes, I'd say so," Linda replied. "That's right. I've seen you on more 
than just television commercials. I've also seen you in the local papers." 

"I get quite a few modeling assignments for swim suit companies," Eileen 
Lacey explained. "My figure is much too voluptuous to fit into the classic 
fashion model type, so I've settled for these other areas, but fortunately 
I've done pretty well at it." 

"I would definitely say that you have," Linda nodded. 

As Linda stared over at Eileen Lacey, she could scarcely conceive of why 
this beautiful young woman would have a care in the world. Here she was, 
young and beautiful, admired no doubt by scores of women and men alike. As 
for the men, Linda realized that it would be just a question of which ones 
she would determine to fight off and those with whom she would care to 
become involved. She was bare-footed and clad casually in a pair of white 
shorts and a T-shirt with SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS scrawled across the front. It 
was obvious from observing the way that her pointed nipples pushed against 
the material of her T-shirt that she was wearing no brassiere. Here was an 
exceedingly voluptuous woman, somebody who was Linda's equal when it came to 
bodily curve distribution. That was rare indeed, Linda recognized, but here 
was a girl who truly had it all. She wore her honey-colored blonde hair down 
almost to her shoulders and her blue eyes contained a radiance and glow that 
seemed to match the bright blue waters of San Francisco Bay, which could be 
seen in the distance from the window of the apartment's living room. 

"How about me fixing us both some wine," 

Eileen Lacey said, easing her body up from the sofa. She possessed long, 
trim legs, and appeared to be perhaps an inch or two taller than Linda. 

"That would be fine, Eileen," Linda said. 

Linda could see that she had picked a most interesting young woman. Ted 
Monday would be pleased with her interview treatment. She silently upbraided 
herself for being so narrow as to be reluctant to interview anyone other 
than a man and potential bed partner. 

The blonde returned to the living room a few moments later, handing Linda a 
full glass of Vin Rose. 

"Thank you," Linda said. 

The blonde hoisted her glass, which she clinked against Linda's. 

"Good luck," she said in a smooth, mellow tone. 

"Thank you. And good luck to you," Linda replied. 

It was obviously difficult for Eileen to ease into her story. She 
procrastinated in every way that she could, talking about her modeling 
career, telling several jokes, and discussing the current plight of the San 
Francisco Giant's baseball team. Eileen revealed herself to be a real fan, 
and told Linda that she got out to Candlestick Park as often as possible to 
see the home team play, even though she was currently disgusted over their 
disappointing season thus far. 

"Well, it can all change," Linda said. "They can always pick up." 

"I suppose so," Eileen shrugged. Eileen then stared out the window, then 
slowly let her eyes return to Linda. "I guess I'm small-talking you to 
death. I'm sorry. It's just that it's not easy to get into the story that I 
have to tell." 

"I understand," Linda said. "That's why I've tried not to pressure you in 
any way to get into your story too soon. I want you to take your time, to 
just ease into things." 

"Gosh. That's awful nice of you." 

"It's all part of being a good listener," Linda smiled. "And any reporter 
worth his or her salt is a good listener." 

"I suppose that's true," Eileen Lacey nodded. "Come to think of it, of the 
reporters and media people I've talked to and been interviewed by, that's 
always been true. They've been good listeners. But, then again, I've never 
been in this kind of predicament before, where I was going to reveal 
something like I'm going to tell you." 

"I'm just curious to know why you picked me." 

"Well, that's an interesting column you write, and you're helping other 
people all the time," Eileen said. "On top of that, I don't know you. At 
least I didn't until now. Sometimes it's easier to just reveal something 
that you want to get off your chest to somebody you don't know all that 
well." 

"My boss would like for me to write up the accounts of this story, if it's 
at all possible," Linda explained. 

Eileen flinched momentarily. She then spoke in low, soft tones. 

"I guess it would be possible, with one condition, of course," she said. 

"That I not mention your actual name. I won't." 

"Not even my profession. I mean, anything. Nothing that would give me away. 
I'm just afraid that otherwise people could piece things together." 

"All right. I'll tell you what. After you've revealed your story to me, then 
we can talk about changes." 

"That would be fine," she replied. 

 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

Eileen finally managed to get into the major details of her story. 

While Linda listened closely, the stunning blonde revealed just what had 
happened to her in the course of her marriage. She outlined the major 
problem stemming from their relationship, the fact that her husband was so 
tied down in his business career. She had at first wanted to quit modeling 
once that she got married, but after her husband started leaving her alone 
so much of the time to concentrate on business, she then decided to become 
more intensively involved in modeling. 

"I needed to be active," she explained. "On top of that, well, the money was 
good. Of course, money wasn't the main factor. It was just being productive, 
doing something. You understand what I mean?" 

"Of course I do," Linda nodded. "But how did this tragedy come about?" 

"Oh, it was awful, just awful," she shook her head. Some tears began rolling 
down both sides of her face. 

"I think it would be best if you told me," Linda said. "Of course, there's 
nobody compelling you to do so. But if you didn't want to reveal it, you 
wouldn't have asked me to come here, right?" 

"I'm gonna tell you," she said. "Just bear with me a little longer." 

"Of course I will. I want you to know that I'm your friend. I want you to 
consider me your friend. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, I not only understand. I greatly appreciate your attitude." 

"That's quite all right. Anyhow, what happened?" 

"Oh, it was terrible, just terrible," she repeated. "Well, when I was 
feeling lonely, and since my husband in particular was always so jealous of 
me, I figured the thing to do was to find a woman I could relate to. It 
turned out that there was this beautiful young model. She was just recently 
divorced and kind of in the dumps. Her name was Penny. Well, we started 
doing things together. Going places. It was great because I wasn't that 
reliant on my husband." "That makes sense." 

"Well, here's what happened. Naturally being in modeling and all, and being 
a woman with a beautiful body, I'd had women attracted to me before. Quite a 
few. When I first started modeling it really rattled me because so many 
women were trying to put the make on me." 

"I've heard of that sort of thing happening." 

"Well, I used to get very angry and upset. But then finally I found out what 
it was like to have sex with a woman." 

"It happened with Penny?" 

"Yes. If it had been with anybody else in a different type of situation, I 
don't think I would have ever done it. You know, being kind of isolated from 
my husband. We were growing further and further apart as he concentrated 
more on his business and less on me. Then at the same time I was getting 
more drawn toward Penny. And let me explain this to you. Penny was anything 
but a bull-dyke type." 

"I see." 

"She was a very sweet, feminine, sympathetic and understanding woman. No, if 
she'd been anything resembling a bull-dyke or any kind of typical lesbian, I 
never would have had sex with her. I never even would have been attracted to 
her. It was her femininity and our mutuality of understanding that drew us 
together." 

"How long did this relationship last?" 

"Oh, well, it all happened one time after I'd had an argument with my 
husband. A really bad one. I went over to Penny's place and just broke down 
in tears. She made me and herself a couple of Martinis. I'm sure she wasn't 
trying to put the make on me or anything like that. It's just something that 
followed, because she admitted afterwards that I'd been the first woman 
she'd ever been to bed with, and I believe her. I really do. Penny is as 
honest a person as I've ever met." 

"Well, how did you get into it?" 

Linda found herself becoming exceedingly absorbed by the story that the 
beautiful blonde was revealing. Not only that, but for some unex-plainable 
reason she began to feel those same waves of titillation that had surfaced 
within her on those occasions when she'd gone to visit men to let them 
reveal about their problems. Linda could feel a certain amount of empathy 
with Eileen for a couple of reasons. First of all she had had a bad 
marriage. The other point in common was that she, too, had had a lot of 
women make passes at her. In particular she was seduced when she was in 
college by sorority sisters. One semester the young woman with whom she 
shared a dorm did everything she could to entice her into sex. None of those 
girls had been strongly practicing lesbians. In each case they had either a 
series of boyfriends or a steady. It was merely a case of the closeness of 
the situation, namely being around Linda a good deal of the time, coupled 
with Linda's appealing face and figure that prompted them to feel these 
strong waves of attraction. 

"At any rate, at first Penny was doing nothing more than trying to console 
me," the blonde beauty exclaimed as tears once again began to surface in her 
eyes. "Then the next thing I knew she was throwing her arm around me. After 
that she was kissing me. Well, you know how it is. Girls are more inclined 
to show affection for each other than men are anyway, like kissing and the 
like. In Europe it's a little different. Men kiss more there and show more 
outward affection, but here in the United States it's mainly the women who 
do it." "That's true." 

"Well, it started out as nothing more than an affectionate, sympathetic kiss 
from one young woman to another. Penny had told me about her own marriage 
and was trying to give me some advice and sympathize with me. But this kiss, 
which started out so innocently, well, it took on so much more. The next 
thing I knew Penny was clinging to my body and I was clinging to hers. That 
one kiss had led to a second, then a third, and pretty soon we were 
frantically kissing each other. After that she shoved her tongue forward and 
before I knew it we were Frenching like mad." 

"This was just something that developed." 

"That's right. I think if either one of us would have tried to put the make 
on the other in the traditional way that's done when a model is attracted to 
another, I think we would have gotten very mad, or at least we would have 
pulled away. But this was different. It was so spontaneous and took us by 
surprise. So our tongues kept sliding back and forth, wrapping around each 
other until, finally, we pulled our tongues loose and then we just stood 
staring into each other's eyes. We could hardly believe it. Here we were, 
already sitting in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. I guess you 
can imagine what happened next." 

"I presume you took off your clothes." 

"We certainly did. If anything, we set a speed record in the process," she 
said. 

"Then what happened?" Linda leaned forward pensively. Once again Linda was 
feeling those strange, quivering sensations that were abounding throughout 
her body. As her loins grew more torrid, she told herself to be more 
restrained. Certainly this was ridiculous. She had fended off blatant passes 
from attractive women before. Just because she was listening to a beautiful 
young woman relate details about experiences with a female lover was no 
reason for her to get carried away. Surely these feelings would pass. 

"So we tossed our clothes aside and stared at each other's body," she 
revealed. "Penny looked so fantastic. She was a swim suit model, too, and 
the modeling agents used to say that we had two of the best bodies in San 
Francisco. Well, we were eager to experiment with those bodies, and pretty 
soon we were lying across from each other in sixty-nine position. Then I 
don't know who started it, but one of us pushed her tongue forward. After 
that it was easy. Our tongues started going to work, sweeping back and 
forth, working real nice as we grooved them inside each other's pussy. Oh, 
it excites me just talking about it. Penny was so beautiful, so wonderful, a 
superb lover. She was unselfish, and that's what makes for a great no 
lover." 

"I know. That's where my husband fell so short," Linda grimaced. 

"Mine, too. I guess that's what I was really seeking out, and the big 
surprise was that I found it in another woman instead of a man. So our 
tongues just went to work and we kept on flipping them back and forth and we 
had orgasm after orgasm. We kept exploding like gang busters the rest of the 
afternoon. It was a beautiful experience. Finally we were all drained out, 
our tongues were so tired and sore that they could hardly move, and our 
bodies were covered with sweat. Then we just collapsed in each other's arms 
and fell asleep. When we woke up early in the evening we knew that our 
relationship had entered into a new and important phase." 

"But where did the tragedy then come in?" Linda asked. 

"I was just coming to that," Eileen sighed, after which she took a deep 
breath, then let the air out before resuming conversation. "I'm sorry, but 
this part's painful. Very painful." 

"Take it as slowly as you need to," Linda said. "As I said, I'm your friend 
and I'm here to help you." 

"You're so sweet. So very sweet," Eileen replied. "Anyway, here's what 
finally happened. The tragedy that I was building up to. My husband was out 
of town, like he was so much of the time. I was entertaining Penny over at 
my place. We'd had lunch at a nice Italian restaurant not far from my 
apartment, one of the nicer places over on the Wharf. Then we came on back 
and started drinking. We really got turned on with each other. I mean, by 
then we didn't even care about men, which was really weird because it's the 
only time I've ever felt like that in my whole life. Here was my husband 
pretty well leaving me alone, too exhausted to even want sex after knocking 
himself out and draining his energies in business. Then being gone the other 
part of the time. So anyway here we were, all set for some more sex. We had 
ourselves a beautiful time. Our tongues were grooving something beautiful. 
We really loved doing it sixty-nine style." 

"I believe I know now where the tragedy came in," Linda said 
sympathetically. 

"I figured you might guess it," she nodded. "Well, it turned out that my 
husband got back from his trip earlier than I expected. He came into the 
bedroom and saw us in bed. He went into an uproar, into an absolute tirade. 
He started cursing me, then he started cursing Penny. He called Penny every 
filthy name under the sun and said that she was a bull-dyke who was trying 
to break up his marriage. Then Penny lashed back. She said that wasn't true. 
She said he loused up the marriage himself." 

"What happened then?" 

"He started screaming at Penny, calling her a liar, absolutely going to 
pieces. Then I came to Penny's defense. I told him that Penny was absolutely 
right, that she certainly hadn't seduced me, and that it was fifty-fifty, as 
much my idea as it was hers. Then I told him that it absolutely served him 
right for the way that he was acting, and that he had no right to berate 
Penny like this." 

"And that's the way that things stood at the end of the discussion?" 

"That's right. My husband then started screaming at me. He cursed me out, 
then left. He said he didn't even want to be married to or even be in the 
same room with a lousy dyke." 

"He shot her later?" 

"That's right. He waited one night until she came out of her apartment. He 
started screaming things. Penny tried to get him to calm down. But he came 
completely unglued. He then shot Penny. Left her for what he thought was 
dead, only she finally did recover. Well, they ruled he was too far gone to 
stand trial. The combination of the pressures from his business along with 
the traumatic shock of my involvement with Penny was too much for him. He's 
in an institution now in another state. It's so tragic. So awful. When poor 
Penny finally recovered, well, even though we wanted to remain friends, the 
ordeal was just too tragic. We thought about going to bed again and even 
tried it once, but it was no good. We just kept thinking back to that tragic 
time when my husband burst in there. There was the specter of my husband 
hanging over the whole thing." 

"How awful. And this has cast a shadow over your whole life?" 

"It most certainly has," she nodded. "A tragic shadow. Oh, it's so awful, so 
very awful. Oh, I don't know what to do. A few nice men that I've met have 
wanted to take me out and ordinarily I would have said yes, but I just 
couldn't bring myself to do it. So when I'm not working I'm just kind of 
shut off in my apartment, pretty much like a hermit. As a matter-of-fact, 
I've even found myself turning down jobs lately because I've been just so 
depressed. Oh, it's awful, absolutely awful." 

Once again the beautiful blonde burst into tears, this time more tragically 
than before. Linda walked over and immediately consoled her, throwing her 
arms around a bitterly sobbing, trembling Eileen Lacey. 

 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

In her endeavor to console the bitterly sobbing Eileen Lacey, Linda hugged 
and caressed her, doing her best to calm her down. 

"It was all my fault, all my fault that Penny got shot," she sobbed. "If 
only I'd done the right thing. If only I'd told her no, it won't work, I'm 
married." 

"It wasn't your fault at all," Linda said consolingly. "Eileen, darling, 
you're looking at it from the standpoint of hindsight. You couldn't have 
known what was going to happen. Neither could Penny. It just worked out that 
way, my dear. Don't be upset with yourself. You shouldn't be. No, not at 
all." 

"Oh, you're so kind, Linda. So very kind." 

The next thing Linda knew, she was staring into the beautiful luminous blue 
eyes of Eileen. The fact that they were tear stained only added more pathos, 
giving her a vulnerable quality to add to her overpowering beauty. Eileen 
stared back and soon their lips were simultaneously pushing forward. Their 
lips cascaded in a sea of wanton passion. Linda's heart beat with surging 
rapidity as the two girls kissed longingly for several lengthy moments. 

When Eileen withdrew her lips from Linda's, the panting blonde hissed and 
gasped, then began to speak. 

"Open your mouth, darling," she panted. "I want my tongue to push against 
yours. I want to make beautiful tongue love. Let's tongue each other. Oh, 
yes, let's enjoy it, let's really enjoy it." 

"Eileen, you're so very beautiful." 

Linda immediately opened her mouth, allowing the panting blonde speedy 
access to it. Soon Eileen's charging tongue was slithering its way inside of 
Linda's mouth. Back and forth their tongues spiritedly charged as they 
connected back and forth, manipulating in a spirited flourish of sensual 
activity. 

Their charging tongues continued to glide and twist as the girls' bodies 
writhed as they lay there on the sofa. As Eileen continued to let her 
stirring tongue penetrate with seething determination against her lover's, 
she reached out with both hands and let her imploring fingers work their way 
inside of the top of Linda's dress. Soon her inquisitive fingers had worked 
their way inside of Linda's brassiere. After that they probed and twisted, 
working with thrusting impact as they ground against the white alabaster 
warmth of the brunette's breasts. 

When Eileen finally removed her tongue from Linda's mouth, she jumped up 
from the sofa. Now there was a different kind of expression on her face. 
Whereas before she looked crushed and totally distraught, now there was an 
expression of fire, one of wanton passion. 

"This way to the bedroom, my dear," she gestured. 

Linda felt as if somebody had sprinkled pepper between her legs. She was on 
fire with wanton lust for this beautiful blonde young woman. She watched her 
buttocks as they wiggled back and forth into the compact snugness of 
Eileen's white shorts as she led her new lover into the bedroom. 

Without a word being said, the girls promptly and emphatically removed their 
clothes. Eileen watched, her eyes widening with lust as she stared at the 
awe-inspiring sight of the gorgeous blonde, one of the most prominent swim 
suit models in all of San Francisco, reaching down and stripping off her 
shorts. As she wiggled her hips back and forth and slid the material down 
her sleek white thighs, Linda observed that she was wearing no panties 
beneath them. Immediately she saw the exquisite loveliness of Eileen's wispy 
blonde pubic curls, which matched the color of the hair on her head. Hers 
was a thin bush, which looked as if it had been shaved to a significant 
extent. Considering the fact that the blonde beauty made her living modeling 
swim suits, many of which were tiny, barely existent bikinis, it was 
understandable that she would shave at least a good part of her pubic bush. 

Linda's eyes remained bewitchingly focused on the blonde beauty's throbbing 
pussy. After removing her shorts, Eileen then reached out and promptly 
slipped her T-shirt over her head. Now she was completely naked as Linda 
watched her firm, flouncing breasts undulate rapidly as she threw her 
T-shirt over her head in an air of celebrated joy and watched it drop to the 
floor. 

"I'm naked, deliriously, gloriously naked, and I'm proud of it," Eileen 
panted. 

The shapely blonde threw her exquisitely white body down on top of the bed, 
where she landed with a lurid plop. All the while her lover Linda was 
eagerly prying off her dress. Finally Linda was down to her wispy white 
panties and matching brassiere. Eileen's eyes remained focused closely on 
her, observing every appealing line of her voluptuous body. 

"What a shape you've got," Eileen said with awe. I think it might even be 
more perfect than mine." 

"Nobody could be more perfect than you, my dear," Linda said huskily as she 
undid her brassiere straps. 

"Don't be so sure," Eileen giggled. "Oh, honey, I can hardly wait. I can 
hardly wait to make love to you." 

"You're probably gonna have to show me the ropes," Linda said. "I've never 
made it with a woman before." 

"You haven't? You really haven't?" 

"No. What's so shocking about that?" 

"Well, you've got such a beautiful bod. I figured there'd be lots of women 
after it, too, along with all the men." 

"There have, but I resisted. That is, until now. I don't know what's coming 
over me. If you told me when I walked into your apartment that I was gonna 
do something like this, I'd have told you, you were crazy." 

"Same thing with me and Penny. It was completely spontaneous," Eileen 
explained. "This is spontaneous, too. I never would have believed I could 
get involved. Especially with another woman. Particularly after what 
happened before. But you're too much to resist, darling. And your kindness. 
Ohhh, you're wonderful, so exquisitely kind. It was just too much. You're 
such a beautiful woman. Oh, just let me make the first overtures. After that 
you'll get the hang of it. There's no problem at all. After all, don't you 
have the same equipment I have?" 

"The last time I looked I did," Linda giggled, easing her filmy white 
panties down her sleek white legs. 

"You'd better believe it you've got the same equipment. What beautiful, 
fantastic-looking equipment," Eileen exclaimed. "Ohhh, what a beautiful 
body. Just look at that pussy. All that thick brown hair. Oh, it's matted, 
darling, just like mine. You're dripping. Ohhh, you're glisteningly moist." 

"All that kissing did the trick. That and the way you fingered my breasts," 
Linda exclaimed as she slid her panties down to her ankles, then stepped 
daintily out of them. 

"Come on over here, darling," Eileen panted more loudly than before. "Oh, 
it's open season on that beautiful cunt. I want it. My tongue wants it. I'm 
gonna slide my tongue inside that hot box. Ooohhh, are we ever gonna make 
beautiful music. My tongue in your pussy. How does that sound?" 

"It sounds like a winner. A beautiful winner." 

"You're darned right, sweetheart," she smiled. "Now come on. Just lie down 
beside Eileen. Just lie down and spread those lovely legs. I'm gonna go to 
work. Ohhh, am I ever gonna eat out your box. Am I ever gonna drive my 
tongue inside your hot snatch." 

"I love hearing it, I love hearing what you're saying," Linda told her. 

Linda eased her body down on top of the bed, extending her luscious legs, 
watching as her loudly panting lover threw her head down between them. 
Before Linda could even get set, her beautiful, tempestuous lover pushed her 
lips down between her legs and let them push against her quiveringly erect 
clitoris. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, YOU'RE KISSING MY PUSSY," she sighed. "MY DARLING, OOOHHH, 
KEEP IT UP. YES, OOOHHH, KISS 

MY CUNT. OHHHH, IT FEELS SO GOOD. OOOHHH, I'M ON FIRE. DO IT AGAIN, YES, 
OOOHHH, DO IT AGAIN. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF IT. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THOSE 
BEAUTIFUL LIPS. SINK THEM AGAINST MY HOT CUNT, MY DEAR. YES, OHHHH, I'M SO 
TURNED ON WITH YOU. OOOOOOOOOOHHHHH, SO VERY TURNED OOOOOONNN." 

The blonde's luscious lips continued to collide against the wet warmth of 
Linda's electrically alive pussy. After a series of rapid-fire kisses, the 
stunning blonde put her tongue to work against Linda's shapely thighs. Up 
and down she ground it with exquisite warmth, working it frantically first 
against her left thigh, then against her right. The faster that the 
salacious, tempestuous sucks became, the quicker in turn that Linda 
resolutely twisted her hips and ass cheeks, responding to every speedy, 
slicing tongue thrust that her lover sent forth. 

"OOOHHH, OOOHHH, YOU'RE EATING ME ALIVE," she mewled. "COME ON, OOO-HHHH, 
TAKE CHARGE WITH YOUR TONGUE, DARLING. OOOHHH, EAT ME OUT. I KNOW YOU'RE 
GONNA DO A BEAUTIFUL JOB. OOOHHH, PLANT YOUR HOT TONGUE INSIDE MY CUNT. YES, 
OOOHHH, DRIVE IT. DRIVE IT FAST, MY DARLING. OOOHHH, OHHHH, SUCK ME. YES, 
OOOHHH, REALLY SUCK MEEEE!" 

The blonde finally released her tongue from her lover's now moist thighs. A 
misty sheen of perspiration began to cover Linda's face as her body 
dramatically quivered and she watched every move of the shapely blonde, who 
was now slowly but surely lowering her head once more down between the 
brunette's shapely thighs. 

"OOOHHH, COME ON, SUCK ME," Linda loudly exclaimed. "COME ON, OOOHHH, EAT 
ME. YES, OOOHHH, SUCK ME. OHHHH, AAAHHHH, OOOHHH. OHHHH, COME ON, MY 
DARLING, OOOHHH, MY DARLIIING." 

Eileen's tongue began to frantically press against the wet warmth of Linda's 
silky moist pussy. Linda could feel trembling waves of fiery excitement in 
her inflamed vagina, and even though Eileen would have preferred going at a 
more leisurely pace to enjoy every moment of delightful sensation, the two 
girls were both much too far gone at that point. It was every bit as 
necessary for Eileen to suck with great rapidity as it was for Linda to 
receive the quick, jolting stabs from her surging tongue prior to a wild 
orgasm. 

"OOOHHH, OHHHH, EAT ME OUT," Linda exclaimed. "OOOHHH, MY LOVER. YES, MY 
LOVER. OOOHHH, SUCK ME, COME ON, GO DOWN ON ME. OOOHHH, GRIND YOUR TONGUE 
INSIDE MY SNATCH. OHHHH, EAT IT OUT. YOU'RE DOING SO BEAUTIFULLY. YES, 
OOOHHH, KEEP IT GOING." 

At first Linda reached out with both hands, letting her fingers slide 
against the smooth, sweat-stained skin of Eileen's back. After awhile she 
ran her fingers through the silky strands of the beautiful blonde's hair as 
she kept on applying her tongue with vigorous passion, driving it against 
the palpitating warmth of the brunette's pussy. 

"OOOHHH, I'M SO CLOSE TO EXPLODING," Linda announced. "COME ON, OOOHHH, KEEP 
DRIVING YOUR TONGUE. KEEP SENDING THAT SHARP, PISTONING TONGUE INSIDE MY 
SLIT. WORK IT INSIDE ME UNTIL I JUICE. OOOHHH, I'M SO CLOSE TO JUICING NOW. 
YES, OOOHHH, SO VERY CLOSE. OOOHHH, OHHHH, HERE I GO. LOVER, OOOOOOHHHHHH!" 

As Linda's shapely buttocks wiggled and writhed, working dramatically in 
concentric movements, Eileen reached down and let her fingers pinch tightly 
against the warmth of her bottom cheeks. All the while her grinding tongue 
continued to work inside the wet warmth of the brunette's exploding pussy. 
Linda kept gasping and sighing, her buttocks moving more frantically than 
ever as the juices exploded from her trembling vagina. 

"OOOHHH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL ORGASM, OOOHHH, DARLING, OOOHHH, EILEEN, OOOHHH, 
HOW GOOD, HOW GOOD, OOOHHH, YOU'RE SO GREEEEEE-AAATTT," she exclaimed. 

When Eileen finally removed her tongue from the stunning brunette's pussy, 
she swung her butt around and let it come to rest only a scant few inches 
from Linda's tongue. She in turn pushed her head down between Linda's legs. 

"Let's do it sixty-nine style this time," Eileen suggested. "Just move nice 
and slow at first, honey. You'll get used to pussy sucking in time. 

like I said, I've got the same type of equipment you've got." 

"Oh, darling, I want you," Linda said. "I want you more than ever after that 
last pussy suck." 

"You've got me. Come on, just press that hot tongue of yours inside my 
pussy." 

Eileen's shapely blonde buttocks provided an enticing target to be sure, as 
did her moist, throbbing pussy. At first Linda reached out and teasingly 
thrust her tongue against the wet warmth of the blonde's pubic curls. After 
awhile, however, her tongue was rapidly deluging her lover's vagina. 

The girls matched each other stroke for stroke, maintaining a spirited tempo 
as their buttocks writhed and their stirring tongues dug into each other's 
hot cuntal furrow, intent upon providing each other with the wildest in 
orgasmic sensation. 

Time and again the girls detonated, shooting their flowing juices into each 
other's appreciative mouth. The air was alive with suctioning sounds of 
tongues stirringly pressing against flesh, ultimately followed by loud oohs 
and aahs as they exploded their impassioned juices into each other's mouth. 

Finally they fell into each other's arms in a sweaty, exhausted heap. After 
a few minutes had passed, Linda finally eased her body up from Eileen's bed. 

"I think you're gonna be much better now," Linda provided her lover with an 
exhausted smile. 

"You can move in here any time you wanted to," Eileen said. "I really mean 
it, darling. And I'll tell you something. I wouldn't give a damn if I was 
going with another guy or not. Just you and me. 

Ooohhh, we could sixty-nine by the hour. By the day." 

"You're very beautiful," Linda said, "and very sweet. But men still occupy 
the major part of my life. All the same, however, I don't think I'd mind 
dropping by and seeing you every now and then." 

"Baby, you're always welcome around this place," Eileen said. "If I can't 
get you all thetime, I'll take what I can get." 

"Well, I guess I've gotta be going. It's been a beautiful afternoon." 

"That it has. Say, why don't you have a drink with me before you leave." 

"I'd be delighted." 

The following morning Linda arrived early at the office, even ahead of Ted 
Monday. By the time that Ted Monday arrived, Linda already had completed her 
column on the experiences of Eileen, who was provided with an assumed name 
as well as an assumed profession. Before Linda had left Eileen's apartment 
she had gone over everything with her, receiving the blonde's approval. 

The next day, after the story appeared, the response was overwhelming. Linda 
was once again besieged by letters. Now she would be able to be even more 
selective than before in terms of deciding who to interview. Now that she 
had learned to enjoy the sensual beauties of sex with a lovely woman, she 
figured that occasionally she would not mind deviating to give a woman a 
shot at her pussy along with the eligible males she would meet along the 
way. 

Linda did not know how long she would hold out, or how long she would want 
to follow this particular path of promiscuity, but at least for a while, 
while she was in the process of forgetting all about Neal, it was providing 
her with good therapy. 

If only Ted Monday knew, she laughed to herself as he finished delivering 
another series of praises in her direction. 


THE END
