XE-1012 The Apartment Manager
By Van Dorne


FOREWORD

Anthropology, sociology, psychology, and psychiatry have each focused relentless investigations upon contemporary American society, and each in turn have found it extremely difficult to classify and categorize, accurately, all of the forces at work, which pull people into a certain life-style.

Enough research has been done now, in the area of sexual response, to enable us to understand exactly what happens in the human organism when it is stimulated, sexually.

We have learned how long it takes for a woman's body to come to full arousal... and how long it takes to come to orgasm; however, we still don't know the process by which a woman becomes sexual. What factors determine why a given woman is frigid... another a complete wanton? More importantly, what factors are operative in the choice of sexual partners?

We are asking these questions about women, for obviously women are involved in sex... with men, most of the time; specifically, the question applies to the swappers, who are constantly looking for a great or beautiful sex partner... with whom they will have one sexual encounter... or at least limited contacts, in a swap club.

Everything seems to point toward the fact that more and more people are engaged in swapping marriage partners, and this activity seems to be expanding by the process of each couple, in turn, seducing another couple... or at least making it attractive enough to invite inquiry, which may lead, eventually, to swapping activity.

Why do people do it? Many millions of words have been written in attempts to explain the swapping syndrome. The explanation most often heard is that swapping helps to bolster failing marriages. There is a strong possibility of some credibility in this argument.

It may work some of the time... for some people, and in The Apartment Manager, a novelistic approach to the problem of swapping, Mr. Van Dome has recounted a story that seems to bear out this thesis; however, since the human organism is so complex, especially, as regards his sexual activities, it is difficult to draw up any generalities.

We present Mr. Van Dome's story as a straightforward attempt to tell exactly what it is like to be involved in swapping. To paraphrase a well-known marriage counselor's words: Can This Marriage Be Saved... Through Swapping? Don't depend upon it. The best route may still be the marriage counselor's office... or the psychiatrist's couch.

Sheer exhaustion, disillusionment, loss of self-esteem, an absence of commitment and, finally, loss of identity, leads to dropping out of the swapping, swinging group... and the same problems, compounded, remain. Two years is the average tenure for frantic swingers, before they finally realize that their former fantasies were better than the free-swinging sex they are experiencing.

- The Publishers


CHAPTER ONE

Music coming through the big speakers was turned up high, the driving, acid rock beat reverberating heavily in the dimly lighted, smoke-filled room, and as the petite waitress, clad only in a scanty bikini bottom, served their beer, collecting a dollar bill for the two glasses of brew, which included her tip, Gayle Bookman glared around in rising anger, sorry she had agreed to come to this place with her husband, Jim. It would have been all right, if they could have afforded spending the money, but Jim wasn't working. He had been laid off, two weeks ago, and that dollar the semi-nude waitress had picked up was almost the last of their cash. Unemployment compensation hadn't started... yet. As she looked around, she noticed the patronage was predominantly men; there was only a sprinkling of women in the audience. All eyes were glued on the tiny stage.

Spot-lighted on the slightly raised stage, separated only nominally from the low bar that ran along three sides of it, every seat occupied by an ogling man, a completely nude brunette danced, energetically, to the raucous rhythm of drums, guitars and half-shouting voices. Gayle watched her for a moment or two with a feeling of embarrassment and a rising sense of disgust, as she shifted her eyes to look across at Jim. She saw on his face and in his eyes that same look of lewd anticipation that was plastered across the face of every other man in the topless bar. It was the same expression of animalistic sexuality he had whenever he wanted to have sex with her. The dancer was a beautiful woman. No one could deny that; it was her dance that disturbed Gayle.

The brunette, dancing on the stage, was gyrating her body in a blatant dance of sex, her hips thrusting forward and undulating in definitely erotic motions; then there was the deep squat, with wide-spread thighs, performed right in front of one or another of the men seated at the bar. Quite often, at the end of a musical phrase, she kicked her leg high, over the men's heads, as they gazed up into her loins to catch a flashing glimpse of her genitals. Gayle hadn't caught it, at first, when the woman's closed fist moved up and down, describing a short arc in front of her pubic mound; she had done it three times, before Gayle realized that it was an obscene gesture, imitating male masturbation. It revolted her.

She leaned across the table, so Jim would hear over the loud music. "This is disgusting!" she said. "I'd just as soon leave right now!"

Jim's handsome face reflected a moment of panic, before he grinned and said. "Relax... and drink your beer, Honey. There's a special show, tonight, I want you to see!"

"I've seen enough, already!" she snapped.

His eyes turned back to the stage. The brunette's dance was ending, the music fading out, the woman flashed a quick smile at her appreciative audience, giving a quick curtsy that seemed out of keeping, Gayle thought. The demure curtsy didn't seem to fit in with the sexy nature of her dance. Quickly, the woman left the stage, stopping only momentarily to retrieve the garments she had shed. There were friendly calls to her, bordering on the suggestive, from a few of the men, the lithe brunette, fielding them with a good-natured rapport.

Gayle knew she hadn't gotten through to him; he was too absorbed in watching the brunette. Picking up the glass of beer, she sipped at it. She didn't like the taste of it; beer was always too bitter. As she drank, she wondered at the sometimes strange ways of men. How was it they could profess an undying love for their wives or sweethearts, yet they seemed to get such a charge out of watching other women? They looked at them on the street, the beach... and in these topless bars, not to mention picture magazines featuring nude women or stag movies. Sex, she decided, must be on most men's minds, most of the time... and that included Jim. He seemed to be wanting it all the time! The worst part of it was he was always approaching her at the wrong times. He very often wanted to make love to her in the morning, and since he had been laid off at the plant, for the last two weeks, he'd been trying to get her to go to bed with him during the afternoon.

It always broke into her routines of shopping, cleaning, sewing or washing and setting her hair, and when she refused him, he was irritable and petulant. Maybe she'd never be able to understand him, completely; on the other hand, Jim didn't try very hard to understand her. Actually, what it boiled down to, she decided, was that her husband was too demanding.

The silence from the big speakers was welcome to her. She turned to Jim and started to suggest, again, that they leave, but just then, a heavy-set, slightly balding man, with a florid, heavy-jowled face, mounted the stairs to the platform amid some joking cat-calls, interspersed with some drunken demands that he take it off.

"Jim...?"

"Shhh!" he hissed. "Mr. Sloan's probably going to announce his special show!"

She turned back to listen. There would be no getting him to leave, yet. She'd just have to put up with it.

The big man on the stage raised his hand for silence, at the same time, parrying the crude jokes of the laughing men, his voice booming out through the speakers. "Not much chance of me taking anything off," he kidded. "I'm the wrong shape... and the wrong sex!"

"Try us!" a voice shot back.

"Say... you flatter me... " The bar owner feigned a limp wrist; then, in his normal voice and manner, he went on. "But, you're not here to see me. I just want to tell you about this new thing I'm just starting... in all three of my places. It's what I'm calling Ladies' Night, or maybe a better name might be Ladies' Amateur Night... because that's what it is."

He was interrupted by a round of applause; waiting for a moment for it to subside, he continued, "Here's the way it works! Any woman... over 21... can enter the contest.

They'll come up here, on the stage... and do their stuff... taking off as much... or as little of their clothes as they feel like. The audience is the judge... the gal that gets the most applause wins... and she gets two hundred dollars, in cash... on the spot! In case of a tie... my wife, Ginny, and I'll put our heads together to break it and come up with the winner. In case any of you don't know my wife, she's sitting right over there!" He pointed to a side table. "Stand up, Ginny... and let them take another look at you!"

All eyes in the room swiveled to look where the bar-owner pointed. Gayle couldn't help her gasp of surprise, as the svelte, mini-skirted brunette, with a see-through blouse stood up.

It was the same woman who had been doing the nude, sexy dance a few minutes earlier.

There was an appreciative round of applause plus a few suggestive propositions. Ginny Sloan merely smiled dazzlingly, around the room and sat down, again.

"Any of you guys with ideas... just remember, all of that action belongs to me! Look... but don't touch!" the big man reminded them. His sally was greeted with good-natured laughter and another round of wisecracks. Sloan waited a beat or two, then said, "Now, this is the kick-off on this idea of amateur shows... if it looks like they'll go, I'm going to have them on a weekly basis!" He stopped and looked around the room. "I see there aren't too many ladies here, tonight... but I'd like to get on with the show! Are there any ladies here, tonight, who'd like to get up here... and show us what they can do for the grand prize of two hundred dollars?!" The bar-owner reached into his pocket and held aloft two bills. "Here they are! The winner gets paid... on the spot... in cash!"

To Gayle's surprise, three women arose and began making their way through the tables to the stairs, at the side of the stage. The first to arrive was a statuesque ash blonde; behind her, coming from the rear of the room was a big-breasted redhead. Last to arrive, somewhat reluctantly, was a willowy platinum blonde, whose hair was, obviously, dyed.

Jim was leaning across the table saying something to her. The noise in the room covered his voice, and Gayle said, "I couldn't hear you... What did you say?"

"I was asking you... if you'd like to give it a try?"

She couldn't believe he had said it. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she stared at him, unblinking for a moment, as she gaped with slack jaw; then, recovering, she snapped her mouth closed, and she could feel the uncomfortable flush in her cheeks. "Is that why you brought me here... to get me into a sex show?" she shot at him.

"Only if you want to... " Jim said, looking away from her steady gaze.

"... And, what makes you think I'd want to...?"

"We need the money!" he stated, simply.

"Ugh!" She was exasperated. Turning, she looked back at the stage where the bar-owner and his wife, Ginny, were talking to the three aspiring contestants.

Jim leaned close, pressing his case, now. "You've got more on the ball than any of those three!" he said. "... And, we could walk out of here with those two bills... easy as hell... in about ten minutes!"

"Jim Bookman!" she spat. "I'm not going to do it! I couldn't take my clothes off... in public... for any amount of money... and I'm surprised you'd want me to!" She glared, angrily, at him, for a moment, before turning back to watch the proceedings on the stage. The three women had mounted the stairs and were standing there ready to begin.

The shorter, full-breasted redhead was down center, the big, ash blonde was behind her to the right, and on the left and behind stood the thin, platinum blonde with a nervous smile on her face. She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands. The big blonde, Gayle noted, was standing, awkwardly, with a hip thrown out; the redhead seemed to be more relaxed. She was kidding with some of the men seated at the bar in front of her.

Jim tried, once more. "Gayle, honey... you even put Ginny Sloan to shame... and you know damn well you do! Why don't you try to pick up those two bills for us?"

"Absolutely not!" she said, flatly, with determination. "... And, if you keep it up... I'm walking out of here!"

He surveyed her grim profile and decided, finally, that she meant it. Settling back in his chair to watch the three women on the stage, he thought about it. They needed the money, and this had seemed like an easy way to get it. All he needed was Gayle's cooperation. Well, he had tried... and one of those three women, up there, was going to walk out, tonight, two hundred dollars richer. It could just as well be Gayle and he!

A popular, driving, rock tune came on, loudly, over the speakers, inviting baby to light his fire, and the three amateur contestants began to move to it, each giving their own interpretation to the dance. It was obvious from the beginning that the redhead was the least inhibited of the three. She threw herself into it, wholeheartedly, and was the first to get her blouse off. She wore no slip; her full, round breasts were barely contained in a lacy bra. Beneath her short miniskirt, she had on sheer panty-hose.

The big bar-owner threaded his way through the tables toward the rear of the room. He spotted Gayle and Jim and made his way over to them. "Hello, Jim... I see you brought the wife along... "

"Yeah... my wife, Gayle... Mr. Sloan... " Jim said, introducing them, casually.

"Just call me Brad!" Sloan said, amiably; then, "Say... you ought to be up there competing for that prize money!"

"Gayle just came to watch!" Jim said, pointedly.

"Too bad... From what I can see... you'd put those three up there to shame!" Brad Sloan said, eyeing her with barely hidden salaciousness.

"I'm not really interested... Mr. Sloan!" Gayle told him, politely but with dripping acidity.

The big man caught her tone and began to move on, "See you around, Jim... and good night, Mrs. Bookman... " He was gone.

Gayle watched him go, an unreasoning animosity rising in her. "I didn't know you knew him... " she observed to Jim.

"Oh, I've been in here, before... "

"I sort of gathered that!"

The performance on the stage absorbed his interest, and Gayle watched too. The redhead had her skirt off, already, while the other two women were still working on getting their blouses off. Then, reaching behind her, she undid the snaps and whipped the lacy-pink bra off, revealing her luscious, full breasts, satin-smooth and alabaster white, under the merciless spotlights. There was a smattering of applause and a few raucous voices commenting aloud on the extent of her endowments.

Jim lit a cigarette, leaned close to his wife and said, "For an amateur, the redhead is doing all right... and she's going to go home with an easy two hundred!"

Gayle chose to ignore his remark. There would be little point, she decided, in carrying the argument further. Her mind was made up. There was no way she would even consider doing what the redheaded woman was doing.

The platinum blonde had her blouse off, now, and the big blonde had slipped off her skirt; however, the redhead was still outpointing them. She had begun to roll the top of her pantyhose down over her hips, until the beginning of soft, gold-red public hair peeped out over the garment.

"All the way!" It was a man, down in front, who called out, hoarsely.

She pushed the panty-hose down a little more.

"Take 'em off!" Several voices chorused it.

With reckless abandon, the redhead pushed the waistband down over the swell of her hips, swinging around to give the audience a quick view of her smooth working buttocks.

Just at that moment, the music ended, and she reached back to pull the covering pantyhose up, again, eliciting a concerted groan from the patrons.

Brad Sloan came hurrying to the stage, mounted the stairs and strode forward. "How about a hand for all three of these beautiful girls?" he boomed. An appreciative applause resounded in the room.

Going through the motions of the contest, he went then to stand beside the statuesque ash blonde. "Now, let's see which one of these lovelies is the winner. Remember... just applause!" He held his hand over the big blonde's head.

Sporadic applause for her danced through the room, along with a few rude boos.

The big man crossed over to the willowy platinum blonde and raised his hand over her head, to be greeted with a fairly sustained applause, then, even before he reached the redhead, thunderous applause rocked the bar. She flashed a brilliant smile and colored, prettily, as she took a little bow.

"Well... there's no doubt, is there?" Brad Sloan said. "And, here's our winner!" He smiled down at the redhead. "What's your name, honey?"

"Bonnie... Bonnie Hudson... " the redhead piped.

"All right, Bonnie... you've won yourself two hundred dollars... fair and square. He handed her the two bills.

"Oh... thank you... Mr. Sloan!" Bonnie gushed.

"Now... there's only one catch... " Brad Sloan said, with a sly grin. "I get to congratulate the winners... with a big kiss!"

Unhesitatingly, Bonnie lifted her lips to him. He took her in his big arms, plastering her near-nude body to him and kissed her, soundly, on the lips. After a long moment, he released her, reluctantly. "This is one of the fringe benefits!" he cracked to the audience, his wit bringing forth guffaws and several crude wise-cracks. Bonnie was a little taken aback. She turned to leave, clutching her two one-hundred dollar bills.

Sloan turned with her and said, "You ladies can dress backstage!" Grasping the redhead by the arm, he walked with her to the stairs, talking low and fast! Gayle watched with interest as the three women picked up their clothing, left the stage and went through a curtained doorway. Bonnie was last to go. Brad had talked to her earnestly, until just before she ducked through the curtain.

Filled with curiosity, Gayle asked, "What do you suppose he's talking to her about, Jim?"

"Well... if I know Brad... he knows a good thing when he sees it!" Brad smiled, knowingly.

"You mean...?"

"No... not what you're thinking... although, he might try to pick her up, too. He was probably trying to sign her up as a dancer!"

Gayle was relieved. "You think she might get a job out of this...?"

"I wouldn't be surprised!" Jim affirmed. "I think he and Ginny have a deal where they train new dancers."

"Oh... "

"He's got three of these places, remember... he needs new girls all the time!"

The same topless waitress appeared at Jim's side. "More beer, Sir?" she asked.

"Yes... two more!" he ordered.

Gayle tried to signal a no to him, but it was too late. Another of their precious dollars was squandered. "Jim... we really shouldn't... " she began.

"Drink up, honey!" Jim told her, as the beer arrived. "Because we're going to watch the next show!" His voice was hard and flat. "Whether you want to... or not!"


CHAPTER TWO

At precisely 10:30, Buck Marcus rose from his comfortable chair, slipped on a light sweater, and without a word to Audrey, his round, dumpy-figured wife, who sat, comfortably, munching a snack of cheese dip and corn chips, he left his manager's apartment to make his nightly inspection tour. It was a ritual of long standing; of course, what Audrey didn't know wouldn't hurt her. There were certain advantages to managing apartments she would never understand. That's why he consistently resisted her complaining suggestions he get some other job that paid more money. He walked out into the balmy, Southern California night, leaving her completely absorbed in television and food.

It was true; part of his job did involve looking around to make sure everything was all right.

He walked through the first quadrangle, removing a garden hose from the walk where it could have been a hazard and glancing into windows, hoping to catch glimpses of women tenants in some stage of careless undress; however, it wasn't until he walked through the second quad, where he removed a child's tricycle and a pair of roller skates from the walk, that he was rewarded with a flash of nude flesh as the young widow, with the two obstreperous kids, disappeared into her bathroom. He stood there, still and silent, peering into her bedroom, deciding after a moment, he couldn't afford to be that obvious. He sure as hell didn't want to lose this job, and he wasn't going to do anything stupid to jeopardize it. Anyway, he was headed for a more definite goal. It was almost always a sure thing!

There was nothing of interest in the third square, where the swimming pool was located, and he mounted the stairs to the vacant, second-story apartment, at the rear, letting himself in with his pass-key. He walked through the dark rooms, directly to the bathroom, stepped into the bathtub and stood on a low stool he had placed there. Cautiously, he looked down into the bathroom of the ground floor apartment, situated at the rear of the middle quadrangle. The bathroom window, below, was dark. Buck swore silently. The Bookmans must have gone out for the evening. Ordinarily, he could have set his watch by the blonde's activities. By this time, she would have been bare-assed naked, getting ready to take her evening bath.

The manager was disappointed, but he had a half-hour to play with... maybe as much as forty-five minutes, before Audrey would become uneasy. There was no sense, he told himself, in pushing his luck... or in provoking more endless arguments.

He had, seriously, considered divorce; the deterrent had been money. It was not only the cost of the proceedings, but the alimony he'd have to pay her that decided him against that.

Life, for him, had become complicated when Audrey had returned from a visit to her doctor and announced that she was, very definitely, in change-of-life, as she referred to menopause. It had been a change for him, too! Audrey told him, flatly, that their sex-life was ended.

He had refused to believe it, at first. Buck was fifty-two years old, still hard-muscled with no extra fat on him, and he was virile. There had been no waning of his potency. Oh, he had slowed down a little, as he had gotten greyer at the temples, but three times a week wasn't too much for him.

Then, meekly rotund Audrey had insisted he move twin-beds into their bedroom. He argued against it. She cried bitter, emotional tears, and he had ended up doing what she wanted.

"What in the hell do you expect me to do?" he asked. "I've got to have a piece of ass pretty damned regular!"

"I d-don't know... " Audrey blubbered. "All I kn-know is I-I don't want you t-to do it t-to m-me... a-any more!"

... And, that was the end of Buck's married sex life!

Prostitutes were too expensive. He didn't have the time, energy... or money to pursue other women. How about a mistress? Well, he had found out that was an expensive proposition, too. Then, he had discovered it could be fun watching women in the apartments he managed. He had been watching ever since.

Patiently, Buck settled down to wait. There was still plenty of time... and watching Gayle Bookman was always worth while!

Gayle walked into the bathroom and snapped on the light. Over her shoulder, she was talking back to Jim, in their bedroom. "Of course I know the rent's three days past due!" she snapped. "That's just another reason why you ought to go down to the unemployment office, tomorrow!".

Jim's answer came from the bedroom. "They haven't had anything for me... for the past two weeks... and they won't... not until the whole industry opens up. Those defense cutbacks really hurt us... this time!"

"So... try something else... why don't you sign up with an employment agency?"

Their voices carried up to the manager, waiting in the darkness. He stood on the stool, in the bathtub, again, and looked down. She was there... and she was undressing, as usual. He was in luck. The luminous dial on his wrist watch told him he had only waited for twelve minutes.

"Those agencies cost too damned much!" Jim stated.

So! It was true! Young Bookman had lost his job. That was the reason they hadn't paid their rent on time. Damn! Buck didn't, like the prospect of losing the young couple as tenants. The blonde woman had been one of the best ones he had spied on... getting his kicks through vicarious fantasy.

He watched, avidly, as she undressed, her garments coming off, one by one, quickly. She always did it the same way, Buck grinned, musingly, to himself. He knew every move she would make. Her hose were always removed in the bedroom, then, first thing, in the bathroom, she slipped off her skirt. Next, her blouse came off, followed by her frilly slip pulled up over her head, leaving only brief panties and a lacy bra.

Sometimes, then, she stood before the mirror putting up her hair, and he'd have to wait to see her completely naked. Tonight, though, she wasn't stopping to put up her hair with bobby pins, and slipped off her panties, almost immediately, revealing the soft, golden pelt of her pubic triangle and the smooth, swelling curve of her hips.

Buck gasped, as she bent over to pick up her panties, the fullness of her white buttocks presented to him, momentarily, and there, between her thighs, he saw the pink flesh of her cute little cunt. There was the familiar throbbing ache and lurch in his rapidly growing penis, thrusting j out against his pants, below. Christ! How he'd love to fuck that sweet, young thing! It'd been too damned long since he'd laid a woman!

With a deft movement, Gayle unhooked her bra and slipped it off. The full, mounding orbs of her soft, smooth breasts were revealed, and Buck, watching her, wished fervently he could get his hands on them. He knew it was impossible. She'd never have anything to do with the likes of Buck Marcus... or would she? Maybe she would under the right conditions!

Just as he knew he would... and always would... he reached down, unzipped his fly and reached inside to bring his heavy, erect cock out, his fist encircling it, holding it for a moment, before moving his hand on it to retract the foreskin.

The conversation, in the apartment below, had stopped, and Gayle stooped to turn on the water in the bathtub. Buck gasped, again, with that tiny glimpse he got of her tight, little pussy, and he imagined himself standing behind her, shoving his hard cock up into the soft liquid warmth of it.

His hand moved, spasmodically, carrying out his fantasy, but his mind still dwelled on a possibility. Certain conditions were present! If he played it right... maybe he really could get her into bed... for real. A plan began to form in his mind.

Satisfied, now, with the water, Gayle stepped into the tub and laid down. Above, in the darkened apartment, Buck watched her every move, as she bathed, his hand moving faster on the shaft of his cock... until at last he came all over the floor.

The scene that followed in the Bookman bedroom would have been all too familiar to Buck Marcus. It was too bad, he wasn't able to see into their matrimonial chamber, too, but when Gayle had finished her bath and left the room, to be replaced by her husband, Jim Bookman, it was time for him to leave. His hand had given him a measure of satisfaction, but as he had spurted out his spewing semen, his mind was made up. He was going to get it into that prissy little cunt... tomorrow!

Jim had been sexually stimulated by the top-less-bottomless show at the Play-Pen owned by Brad Sloan, and he was looking forward to tonight's activities in bed.

... But, he had had to wait. Gayle insisted on absolute cleanliness. They had to go through the ritual of a bath, before she would even consider having sex. Well, he went along with it. There were a lot of things he had learned to put up with in this marriage business... too many, he thought, sometimes.

Then, he went into the bedroom, expectantly, but he found her with nightgown on, covered up and asleep... or feigning sleep. Christ! She had pulled that on him too damned many times, already.

He crawled in under the covers, nude. Reaching out for her, he said, softly, "Gayle... honey?"

There was no answer.

Turning on his side, he moved up close to her supine body and reached out to cup a breast in his hand. She stirred, turned to her side, her back to him, legs drawn up, curling herself into a ball, and settled, comfortably, into the soft mattress of the bed.

It had happened this way, too often. Frustrated anger rose in him, spilling over, acidly, as he growled, "God damn it, Gayle... I know you're awake... and you're just trying to put me off... again!"

Roughly, he reached down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and jerked it up above her hips. There was a ripping sound of a seam giving way. Her thighs were exposed, nakedly, his hand going in over the swell of her hips to the golden down of her pubic mound and trying to worm its way down into the deep triangle of her loins.

"You don't have to tear my nightgown off!" she complained.

"Things like that wouldn't happen... if you'd just act like a normal wife!" Jim fired back.

"You knew I wanted it tonight!"

"... But, I don't!" Gayle snapped, attempting to writhe her genitals away from his searching hand.

"So... why don't you let me work you up to it... really get you ready for it... so you'll enjoy it more... " he coaxed.

"You've never made me enjoy it... yet!" She was caustic.

"Damn it... Honey... you've never let me do the right things!" He pointed out. "You hardly ever let me use my hand on your clitoris... and if you'd just once let me use my mouth on your cunt... you'd find out what you've been missing!"

"I'll never let you do that filthy thing... with your mouth... either!" she flared. "And... I don't like you to use those dirty words!"

"Damn it, Gayle... it doesn't have to be this way... an argument and a big hassle... every time I want to fuck you!"

"I told you I don't like those words!" Her voice was cold, deadly.

"There's not much chance I'll stop, now!" he gritted, "Any more than I'm going to stop wanting you... and I want you, now!"

"Why can't you wait until tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow... and tomorrow, again! Christ! I want it, tonight! I've got a big, aching cock... and I've got to use it... on you... because you're my wife! That's reason enough!"

"Go douse some cold water on it!" she told him.

"Yeah... I could do that... but I'm not! I could jerk it off, too... but I won't do that... either!" he gritted. "But there's one thing I've been tempted to do... and I may do that, yet!"

"Wh-What's that?"

"Find another woman... that knows how to fuck!"

"You... w-wouldn't...?"

"I sure as hell will... if this hassle keeps up much longer!" It was a flat statement. He meant every word of it.

She turned toward him, panic beating hard in her. "You mean sex is so... important to you... you'd be unfaithful t-to me...?"

"I sure as hell would!"

"Now... I know what my m-mother put up with... all of those years!" she said.

"We're not talking about your mother!" Jim growled. "We're talking about you and me... and whether I'm going to lay you, tonight!"

It had never occurred to Gayle that Jim, in his dissatisfaction, might turn to other women for sex, the way her own father had. If it was so important that her marriage could be threatened... she would just have to learn to put up with it... agree to it... even if she didn't feel like it. Then, too, that would be better than having Jim force her to do it, as he had several times before... when she had refused him.

Turning over on her side, facing her husband, now, her reluctant decision made, she said, "All right, darling... if you really have to have it... all that bad... we'll make love... tonight... " Jim choked out, "Darling... I love you!" His arms encircled her and pulled her close, the hardened shaft of his pulsing cock prodding into the soft flesh of her abdomen.

"I l-love you, too... Jim... " she said, sure that she meant it; it was the sexual side of love she didn't understand. To her it was messy, sometimes painful... but never, yet, enjoyable. It was something she had to endure - even more so, now - to keep her marriage intact. Jim's admission of a temptation to stray had frightened her... and brought to mind her mother's plight. She didn't want that! Why, she asked herself, couldn't she be the kind of wife Jim wanted?

It was as a dutiful, submitting wife, she allowed her smooth, tapering thighs to spread, allowing his hand to rummage there, in her genitals, his finger searching for and finding the still flaccid tip of her clitoris, hidden down between the soft fleshy folds of her pussy.

She lay there, her body unresponding, and went through the motions of receiving his love-making, accepting his kisses, enduring the mauling of her breasts, his mouth following his hands to kiss and suck, the nipples finally coming up erect under his stimulation... then, as he swarmed against her, deep in his own passionate need, she parted her thighs, lying on her back to be mounted. Cradling her husband between her legs, she lay there, quietly, unable to respond in the ways she knew she should, Jim's big hard cock going into the unready dryness of her cuntal sheath, hurting her, causing her irritation... but she wouldn't let herself cry out in protest. She had made up her mind not to deny him... but she denied herself... denied her own sexuality.

... And, Jim, sensing that she felt nothing... that it made no real difference to her... that she was going through the motions, allowing him to use her body, did just that. He used her.

With quick, jackhammer strokes, he thrust up into the resilient cuntal passage of his wife, almost brutally, intent only upon attaining his own orgasm, in the full knowledge that she would not climax. She never had... yet. Sometimes, he thought, she was afraid of it... that she wouldn't let herself go... so that she could. Frigid... that was the one word that described his wife, Gayle, he decided... but the hell of it was... he didn't know how to help her!

Then, thundering to his own ejaculative orgasm, his passion-hardened cock spewing forth his hot, white sperm, he collapsed on top of her, satiated, his need for sexual release fulfilled.

Gayle felt nothing. She had been used... again, and there was a great emptiness in her.

Finally, after several long minutes, Jim's penis returned to softness inside her, and he rolled from her to go promptly to sleep.

Lying beside him, Gayle, was sleepless. This time, as it had been on a few other occasions, she had felt the beginning of a slow, burning sensation... almost like a promise of things as they could be... but the tiny, flickering fire in her loins was extinguished, almost before it sparked, momentarily, into life.

There had to be something in it. Whatever it was, why did it elude her, so completely? It was true, just as Jim had said, before; there was no reason why her mother's problems should become hers... and yet, Gayle's married life was like a re-run. How is the pattern broken? How do you break through the barrier of attitudes learned at an early age?

No communication problem really exists between the generations... perhaps it's only that the wrong things are communicated... at the wrong time.

Feeling that great hollow, empty void in her, Gayle wondered how it was that she had gone into her marriage expecting so much from it... and had found so little. It was hard for her to realize that a year of marriage had changed her so much... yet, she had changed so little, in the ways that were most important. Now, if she weren't careful... her marriage could come to a tragic end... in divorce. She should heed the warning!


CHAPTER THREE

Lying there a few moments ago, beneath Jim, while he had plunged, wildly, in and out of her, she feeling nothing and wishing that she could, Gayle's thoughts bogged down.

Divorce! Morbidly, her mind dealt not with the possibility of her own marriage disintegrating, but with one that had, already. Gayle had been old enough to know about the arguments, the animosities... the sometimes violent scenes in her parents' bedroom; then, her father had moved out. There was the divorce, finally, and Gayle was given into the custody of her mother. She had only seen her father a few times after the divorce.

Later, he had re-married... and it was only much later that Gayle had found out about his infidelities. Much, much later, she came to realize that her mother must have been a completely frigid wife to her father.

... And, now, somewhat dimly, she was aware that her mother's attitudes, insinuated subtly in her little girl's mind, as she grew up without a father, were there, in her subconscious, and that if she didn't change, she would lose Jim, just as surely as her mother had lost her father.

She remembered that telephone call from her mother. She had called Gayle at the apartment she shared with two other girls. They were all going to UCLA.

Gayle had sent her mother a picture of Jim Bookman in the same letter in which she had broken the news she planned to marry him.

"Gayle! Long distance from Cleveland!" Elaine had squealed. "It must be your mom!"

Excited, she had taken the phone from the equally joyous Elaine. "Mom?!" She had been surprised and happy to hear her mother's voice; her mother seldom felt she could afford long-distance calls half way across the continent.

"Gayle... I felt I had to call you... " her mother's voice came down the wires to her flat, dull... almost the sound of an old woman's voice.

"You got my letter... and the picture of Jim?" she asked. "Isn't he something?"

"He's a very good-looking boy, Gayle... but... " Her mother's voice trailed off.

"... But, what, Mom? Is something wrong?" She felt a rising apprehension, a tone of disapproval in her mother's voice.

"Well... don't you think... your education is important... ? You're still so young... and marriage could wait, for a while."

"I love him, Mom... a-and I want to marry him, now!" she defended.

There was silence for a long moment.

Gayle went on, "Oh, Mom... you've got to understand! I could go on about him... for hours... and he's got a good job in an airplane factory!" she said, then added, "... And, we've already picked out a cute little apartment... "

"Marriage is a pretty serious business... Gayle. There are so many things... " Her mother paused. "Like... sex... it's so important to men... "

"Oh, Mother... I know about sex!"

"... But, it's up to the wife... to give in... whether you feel like it or not. It seems like men are always wanting it... and if they don't get it... " Again, her mother's voice subsided into silence.

"Mom... what are you trying to tell me...?"

"Nothing... I guess... " her mother answered. "I'm going on foolishly... trying to warn you, I suppose... but I'm forgetting... you'll have to live your own life... the best you know how!"

"I'm glad you're giving me some credit, Mom!" she said, acidly. "Jim and I... have been making plans... and talking... and we know what we want!"

"I hope you'll be very happy, dear... " her mother had said, her voice changing. "When will you be getting married?"

The conversation changed to discussion of plans, and Gayle gushed them forth, her mother listening avidly; however, the upshot was that her mother would be unable to come to the wedding. Gayle was disappointed, but she tried to understand, that she really wouldn't be able to take the time from her job in Cleveland... and that it would cost too much to travel all that distance.

Gayle and Jim were married in early June, about a month later. It was a very small, private wedding, performed in a neighborhood church, attended by only a few of their close friends. They drove to Tahoe for their honeymoon.

The memory of her wedding night brought an ironic twist to Gayle's mouth. They had stayed at a motel. Strange, she thought, for a while, she was sure she had everything she ever wanted.

On their arrival at the big, chain motel, there had been a slight mix-up concerning their reservation, and another side of Jim's nature was revealed, when he went into a towering rage over it. The problem was resolved, quickly, but Gayle was embarrassed because of the unnecessary scene he had made.

He had brought a fifth of Scotch with him; as soon as they were in their room, he opened it. Gayle sipped her drink, limiting herself to one, but Jim continued to drink.

The wedding night should be a night to remember. It had been so for Gayle; she would always remember it. It grew late. She didn't know what to do. Jim was not actually drunk - she thought - but she began to wonder whether she were facing the prospect of going to bed with a drunken bridegroom... on her wedding night.

Finally, she had gone into the bathroom, took a shower and prepared for bed, putting on the beautiful, white, shorty nightgown she had bought especially for this special night. She wanted her marriage to be consummated. In her own mind, she had prepared for some discomfort; her husband would have to penetrate and rupture her hymen, which was, she knew, intact... even a little thick and tough. She had experimented, using her finger to stretch and distend it, somewhat, and had found it to be very tight. More than anything else, though, Gayle wanted it to be a love-mating.

She had come back into the bedroom, not knowing quite what to expect, a rising apprehension in her, bordering on fear, wanting Jim to take her... because he was her husband, the man she loved. She wanted to be initiated into the deep, romantic mysteries of sex... of married love, but her starry-eyed vision had not prepared her for Jim, in his half-drunken state.

Jim was seated in the over-stuffed chair, another drink in his hand. As she came into the room, he looked at her and smiled, lewdly, his look of appreciation turning into a leer. His eyes were bleary from too much Scotch. "Say... that's something!" he said, slurring his words, drunkenly. "It really shows off your figure... but now that I've seen it... you won't need it any more! Take it off!"

"Not yet, darling... I-I'd rather have you take it off for me... a-after we're in bed... " She was hesitant.

"Take it off... God damn it!" he growled. "I want to see what I'm really getting! I'm not interested in the package!"

Gayle paused for a moment, before saying, "You're not ready for bed... yet... Don't you want to take your shower... now...?" Her penchant for cleanliness came to the fore... and there was the hope that a shower might serve to sober him.

"I don't want a shower! All's I want is you... damn it! Been waiting too long... already!"

he said, a wild, lustful glint in his eyes. "Come here!"

She had obeyed him. Somehow, she had known it was her mother's influence working in her. She had been docile, her mind made up that she would give in, in her mother's words.

What was she to do? It was her wedding night.

As she came to him, he had risen from his chair and had taken her into his arms, roughly, plastering her supple body to his in an enveloping bear-hug, his lips searching for hers, finding them and kissing her hard, mashing her lips back against her teeth, uncomfortably, while his avid tongue surged into her mouth, the taste of it sour in her mouth from the liquor he had consumed. The heavy fumes of the alcohol on his breath seemed to gag her, and she twisted her mouth aside, breaking the kiss, to bury her face against his chest.

Insistently, then, his hands moved over her lush body, exploring the smoothness of her back, down over the firm, roundness of her buttocks and the impudent up-thrusting orbs of her breasts. Finally, he had lifted her nightgown, and his rough hands reached down to the golden-downed mound at the apex of her thighs. She reacted, involuntarily, as she attempted to twist away from him, murmuring, "P-Please... Jim... why don't you get ready for bed... b-before we... "

"We're going to bed... right now!" he roared, angrily, infuriated that she, seemingly, was trying to delay him.

Taking hold of her nightgown at the deep neckline, he ripped it from her with one mighty yank. "There!" he grunted.

"Jim! My new nightgown... i-it's ruined!" she complained.

"The damned thing was in the way!" he groused, his mouth dipping down to the smooth whiteness of her naked breasts. He took a delicate, pink nipple into his mouth, absorbing the whole of it, including the areola, and nibbled on it, voraciously, while his hands kept up their restless caresses, probing the luscious curvaceousness of her trembling nakedness.

"God... you're absolutely beautiful... Gayle!" he choked, as he moved across to capture the twin of the breast his lips had just left. This time, his teeth dug into the berry-like bud of the nipple, cruelly.

"Ooh!" she gasped. "That hurts... darling!"

Ignoring her cry of pain, her objections to his rough treatment, his precipitous, direct actions causing her real fear, now, he pushed her back on the bed and began to pull off his own clothing. Wide-eyed, she watched him, as he flung his garments from him.

Then, his shorts had come off, last, releasing his fully erect penis to her awed gaze. It stood out, awful in its blood-engorged length and thickness. It was so very huge! Gayle had never realized that a man's sex organ could get that big... when it was erect. She stared with fascination... and fear.

She gasped, chokingly, "Oh...!"

Jim saw her look of surprise and the fixed stare.

"What's the matter... haven't you ever seen a man's cock?"

With an effort, she tore her eyes away from it. "No... not really... " she answered, hesitantly. "... A boy in high school... ex-exposed himself, one time... a-and I felt yours... once... that time on the beach... but... " The memory of that night, on the beach, flooded back to her, and she blushed, as her eyes swiveled back to stare at her husband's hardened cock. "I-It's so big!" she added.

"You'll find out how big it really is... when I shove it into your tight, little cunt!" he leered, reaching down to grasp the shaft of it in his hand. With a lewd motion, he pulled the heavy foreskin back to reveal the shiny, pulsing head of it. "Nice... huh?"

He came to bed and laid down beside her, his hands moving on her, again, but moving almost directly to her loins, where he clawed at her, trying to get a hand between her thighs. Unconsciously, fear gripping her, she instinctively tried to protect herself from his crude, frontal assault. She clamped her legs tightly together and attempted to wriggle her loins away from him.

"Open your legs damn it! How do you expect me to get to that cute, little cunt of yours?" he said, then reminded her, "I'm your husband, now... remember?"

Hesitantly, Gayle had obeyed him; she had relaxed the muscles of her thighs, slightly, chiding herself for acting so foolishly.

His avaricious hand had plundered her loins, instantly, a finger sliding down through her tender young furrow to slip into the virginal tightness of her vaginal opening. He moved it in and out several times, then moved upward to irritate her delicate clitoris that reposed there, between the fleshy folds at the top of her cuntal slit. The hardness of his finger and the reckless abandon of his manipulations hurt her, and she, again, writhed her hips back and down into the soft bed to escape the rapacious digit irritating her sensitive tissues.

"Mmm... it's nice and tight," he mumbled. "You really are a virgin! Perfect! Just what I wanted!"

"Oh, Jim, darling!" she whined. "Oh! That's hurting me! P-Please... don't... " Her pleas didn't reach him; he was deaf to them, and he had mistaken her movements to escape him as a portrayal of high passion on her part. Actually, he could have cared less; in his drunken stupor, he was intent only upon his own gratification.

"That's it, doll! Move that tight, little ass!" he brayed, levering himself up on strong arms, his hips coming down between her legs and the lustful head of his hardened cock nestled, menacingly, at the tiny opening of her virginal cunt. His face, leering down at her, was a study in raw, unbridled lust. "... Because, I've waited too God damned long for this! Now, you're going to get fucked... but good!"

Gayle had sensed his intention, then. She saw it in his face. He was going to plunge his out-sized cock into her untried, completely unprepared vagina... with no further preliminaries. Genuine fear and alarm quaked in her.

Reaching down between them, Jim grasped the rock-hard shaft of his cock and placed the pulsing head directly in line with her trembling cuntal opening; then, with a slight flexing of his hips, he pressed hard against her.

She wailed with apprehension, a sharp pain slashing her loins as he shoved harder. "Y-Your thing will... split me... tear me open... Jim! Please... n-not yet! Not yet... I'm not r-ready... for it!"

"Don't make such a big hassle about it!" he barked. "Hell... you're going to lose that cherry, anyway!... And, I'm going to break it... now!"

His hips had moved forward and downward, with cruel force, as the chunky, blood-inflated cock-head went into the barrier of her hymenal membrane, stretching it, brutally. A searing pain raced to her brain. It was almost unbearable to her, and he kept pushing, the strain showing on his face.

"No! Jim!" She was frantic, now. "No! OOOoooh!"

With strength born of desperation, Gayle tried to roll her pelvis to one side, to escape that laceratingly painful sensation. She felt her tender tissues begin to rip inside her. Her head swiveled, wildly, as she found no retreat from it. There was no escaping; she was pinned to the bed beneath him. Tears started into her deep, blue eyes. She needed help, and she called on her God. "Oh, My God... My God! Help m-me!"

"Hold still, God damn it!" It was an animalistic grunt.

"It's tearing me!" she sobbed. "I-I can't stand it!"

Jim's laugh was a hard, tight, mirthless cackle. "Hell... I've only got part of the head in you! When I get it all in... you'll know you've got something, then!"

Then, her husband pushed... hard! He dug in with his toes, levering his hard-muscled body over her, and using all his strength of strong back and legs, forced his big cock into the tight resiliency of her cuntal opening. It hurt him, too! Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he grimaced with the discomfort; however, for him, there was no backing off. He was determined to get his hard, aching cock into her.

"Christ! You are tight!" he grunted.

Calling forth all the power in his young body, he made a final, titanic effort. He bucked and plunged, the muscles of his back and legs straining, and he drove the giant shaft of his plundering cock straight into her.

The virile, lust-filled cock-head broke through the thick hymen, tearing and ripping the delicate flesh, as he surged into her, ravishing the virginal girl and changing her, on the instant, from a bride... into a wife. The physical and psychological fact of her virginity had vanished with the presence of his cock in her cunt... for the first time!

Her bright, red blood ooozed from the wounded flesh of her pierced hymen, the intense pain of it bringing a wail of anguish from her lips; it was long, drawn-out, the sound coming from deep in her being, like the cry of a wounded animal.

"OOOooohhh! M-My God! My GOOoooodddd! OOOOoooooOOOOHHH!" she screamed up into his face, her mouth opened wide.

A merciful twilight of unconsciousness dimmed her senses. Her body relaxed under him; her eyes closed, and her head rolled to one side. She was in shock. Her face paled, noticeably.

Even if he had noticed her condition he wouldn't have stopped. Onward, he plunged, blindly, ramming his rock-hard shaft deep into the lacerated tenderness of her vagina, the torn flesh of the hymenal being pulled along inside, plastered against the partial length of his ravaging hardness. Ahead of the plundering cock-head, the pliantly velvet-like tissues of the inner lining of her cuntal passage surged in waves of tortured flesh. A few drops of her blood oozed out to stain the golden down of her pubic hair.

Suddenly, he had plumbed her depth. His hard pelvis slammed into her hard, and the blood-inflated head of his cock flicked passed the cervical neck to lodge, snugly against the back wall of her vagina, stretching and expanding the sheath, cruelly.

"AAaauugghh!" He grunted his satisfaction. "God... that's tight! Tight as hell!"

As for Gayle... the rest of it was a hellish nightmare. It was something Dante didn't describe, or perhaps more like the travesty production of a Hollywood horror movie; at any rate, it was a scene that was to be inscribed, permanently, in her memory.

She had roused, after a time, from her semiconscious state to stare up into the lust-filled eyes of her husband, not completely comprehending what was happening to her. His eyes, glazed with alcohol and the driving need of his lust, leered down at her, seeing her only as a sex-object, a female into whose cunt he was going to spew his ejaculative sperm.

He rammed and slammed his monstrously hardened cock into her with long, cruel, punishing strokes. Every forceful plunge into her abraded cuntal sheath brought her more of the same, almost unbearable pain.

Gayle was inarticulate; she c d only sob her heart out, uncontrollably, holding her body rigid, her legs wide-spread, for him to use her. Now, she didn't try any longer to escape; she just lay there, dumbly, in her pain, accepting the brutal, sledge-hammering thrustings of his long, thick cock up into the delicate, raw passage of her young, never-used-before cunt.

Gradually, Jim had increased the speed and depth of his strokes, and instinctively, Gayle sensed that he must be nearing his climax. His face hung loose - almost animalistically salacious, his eyes sightless, ears unhearing, in the grip of his consuming passion, his need to cum. His hips moved up and down, mechanically, his cock a voracious, demanding monster, as he pistoned into her like some uncontrolled sex machine.

Her only thought, at that moment, and the one to which she clung tenaciously, was a voiceless, fervent prayer rising in her that he would cum, quickly. She was sure she wouldn't be able to stand any more of it. If it didn't stop soon, she was sure she would die.

Then, there was a vague awareness of something... something she couldn't identify... a fleeting sensation, within her, hovering there for a moment, in her loins. It was a tingling feeling of warmth that pervaded her belly, briefly... but it had passed her by almost as swiftly as it had come. She had a preview, a film-clip, as it were, of coming sexual attractions, its tantalizing hooker flickering all too briefly, and she knew, somehow, that she had been, momentarily, on the very brink of sexual arousal.

Jim gasped and gave one final, crashing lunge, driving his hard shaft deep up into her, and she could feel his expanding, wildly pumping cock in her cunt as it jetted forth its viscous fluid in the depth of her tortured vaginal vault. His body stiffened over her, his head thrown back, mouth hanging open, as he panted raspingly with the effort he had made to cum.

With a guttural groan, he collapsed on top of her, his weight pinning her to the bed, immobile beneath him; then, after a few moments, he had rolled to his side, his rapidly deflating penis pulling from her with a moist, sucking sound. He went sound asleep, instantly, and slept soundly... dead drunk and sexually satiated, not knowing... not even caring about what he had done to Gayle.

For Gayle, the young bride, there had been but little sleep. She had gotten up from her marriage bed of pain and shame and had gone into the bathroom. Through eyes bleared with tears, she had examined her hurting vaginal opening, cleaning the blood from her and applying a soothing salve to her abraded genitals.

Her mind was in a whirl. She couldn't understand it. Surely, God, in his infinite wisdom, must have made a horrible mistake. How could he have created love... love of man and woman, and at the same time made of it an insane, senseless horror of pain and torment?

There had been nothing in it for her! It had been like a medieval torture chamber. Where was the fun... the ecstasy... the rapture... the surging feeling of oneness? Perhaps, she decided, it was all a great big joke... and the joke had been played on her.

Then, she had gone back to her marriage bed, creeping into it to lie beside her soundly sleeping husband, sobbing out her physical and psychical pain.

Finally, merciful sleep came to her, as she had lain there in her bed of pain beside the husband she had vowed to love... honor... and obey.

... And, now... a year later... she still wondered: Where was the fun? She had never yet captured the ecstasy. Rapture was still only a word in the dictionary. Oneness? It had never existed for her... yet... And, now, the very foundations of her marriage to Jim were crumbling.

Over and over she asked herself what she could do to save her marriage. No answers came... and there was only the void.


CHAPTER FOUR

Buck Marcus, the next morning, made it a point to find some work to do in the middle quadrangle of the apartment complex he managed. He cultivated and trimmed some shrubs, at the same time keeping an eye on the Bookman apartment, on the ground floor in back.

He was pretty sure that young Jim Bookman would be leaving to go to the State Unemployment Office. Knowing the extent of the current unemployment, he also guessed that the blonde's husband would be standing in long lines, waiting for an interview, for several hours. All he needed, though, was a half-hour or forty-five minutes... alone with her, in that apartment. A feeling of unusual excitement at the prospect of what he planned to do tingled through him. He could barely contain himself; as he worked and watched, he built fantasies of the coming scene with the young, blonde housewife, and he felt his penis jerk inside his pants, with the building anticipation in him.

Finally, Jim left the apartment, strode to his car, parked in the carport, at the back of the apartments, and Buck listened, as the young man started his car, backed it out and drove off down the alleyway. The manager waited a few minutes, then gathered up his gardening tools.

He put the tools away, went into his own apartment and washed his face and hands.

Combing his greying hair, he looked at himself in the mirror, critically. He decided that he didn't look too bad... a little eroded, perhaps... but still he wasn't such a bad looking guy, after all.

Picking up his metal tool box to use as a reason for getting inside the Bookman apartment, Buck headed for the front door. Audrey, ensconced solidly, before the television set, watching a day-time serial, looked up and whined, "Where are you going, Buck?"

"To fix a faucet... " He kept right on going.

"Where?" she asked. "... In case I need to get hold of you... or somebody calls...?"

Buck thought fast. "Over in quad three," he lied. "42B... upstairs!" He went out the door swearing under his breath. "God damned nosey woman!"

He was in a better mood when he knocked at the Bookman's door. Gayle, who had been dawdling over a second cup of coffee, came to answer her door, still dressed in her nightgown and wrapper. She knew it must be Mr. Marcus, the manager, because, he always ignored the doorbell, preferring to knock, instead.

"Oh... hello, Mr. Marcus... " she said, smiling.

"I'd like to fix that dripping faucet in your bathroom... Mrs. Bookman... " he said, knowing it had been a full two weeks since she had reported it.

"Well... that's fine... I thought maybe you had forgotten it!" She opened the door to let him in.

"I'll only be a few minutes... " he assured her, trying to look down the front of her dressing robe as he passed her. Instinctively, Gayle clutched the garment tighter about her.

"All right... " She picked up her cup and saucer and carried them into the kitchen, as the manager headed for the bathroom.

Gayle would have preferred to be fully dressed, with Mr. Marcus in the apartment; she didn't like the way his eyes wandered, but there was no way she could get dressed, now that the manager was working in the bathroom. She'd just have to wait for him to finish.

He actually did repair the leaking tap, replacing the neoprene washer, rapidly and efficiently. When he was finished, Buck came into the hallway and said, "I see there's some damage in here!"

Gayle came to him and asked, "Damage... where?"

"There's a chip in the bathtub!"

She went into the bathroom to look. "Oh, that!" she said, noting the damage he pointed out. "That was there when we moved in... don't you remember?"

Buck was thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah... maybe you're right... " he said. "Well, just forget it, then!"

She was relieved. For a moment, she had thought they would be charged for something, unfairly. She smiled at him. "I'm glad you remembered!" Then, she turned to leave the bathroom.

Buck's figure blocked the doorway.

"There's another thing... Mrs. Bookman!" he said, his eyes hooded, as he looked down at her. "You're past due on paying the rent!"

She gasped, involuntarily, "Oh! I-I'm sorry... Jim must have forgotten to drop it by... " she lied.

"Look!" Buck said, leering at her, openly, now. "Don't pull that forgetting routine on me! I know your husband lost his job... and there's not much chance you'll be paying... at all!"

Her eyes puddled. "I-I don't know... how you found out... but we'll be paying you... i-in a few days!" she said, trying to sound reassuring.

"You're four days behind, now!" he rasped, then his voice softened, as with a salacious smile, he went on, "... But, maybe we can work out something satisfactory... for both of us... "

"I don't understand... "

"Well... you're a big girl... I'll put it to you in plain words. "I'll write off the rent... for you... and that ought to be worth three or four sessions... in bed... with you!"

Gayle was flabbergasted. It took a second or two for his brazen proposition to sink into her brain.

"Mr. Marcus!" she flared. "Get out! G-Get out... now!"

"Not until I get what I want!" he said reaching out to take her into his arms. "And, it's you I want!"

His arms encircled her, holding her tight, his mouth coming down to clamp onto hers. She tried to twist from his strong grip, but she couldn't move. As he pulled her body close, her loins came into close contact with his, and she felt the hard hugeness of his erect penis, inside his pants, prodding into her abdomen. Frantic fear gripped her. His mouth on hers made it impossible for her to scream for help. God! Did this monster intend to rape her?

She had to do something to protect herself!

Remembering having been told - or having read it somewhere - the vulnerability of men, in the region of their genitals, she knew what she must do. Suddenly, she relaxed in his arms, allowing her body to sag back away from him, and Buck, thinking he had scored an easy victory, released his grasp, slightly and took his mouth from hers to say, "That's more like i... Ow-wOOOOOoooooohhhh!"

He crumpled at the waist, his hands grabbing at his groin, as he grimaced in painful agony. Gayle's swiftly desperate knee had come up into his crotch, forcefully, the blow catching him square in the scrotum to injure his testicles. "You bitch!" he coughed. "You... little bitch! OOOooooh! You've ruined me!"

Gayle darted around him, ran into the living room and scooped up the telephone, her heart pounding, frantically, in her breast. She was going to call the police!

Buck followed after her, painfully. He saw that she was already dialing. She must be calling police headquarters! No! He sure as hell didn't want that! They could haul him in on attempted rape.

"Wait!" he croaked. "For God's sake... don't call the police! I'll leave... and never bother you... again! I swear it! I-I must have lost my head!"

She paused in her dialing. His whining tone seemed to indicate contriteness. Perhaps she shouldn't call the police. It could become a messy situation. She cradled the phone, but stayed near it. "All right... I-I won't call the police... now clear out of here!" she said, fiercely, surprised at her own courage, as she faced him.

"Got to get my tools... " He went back into the bathroom, to emerge in a moment with his tool kit. He went past her, not daring to look her directly in the eyes. Hesitating at the door, he turned back and added, "Don't tell my wife... either... please ..-.-?"

"Just leave... Mr. Marcus!" she said, coldly.

He turned and limped out the door without another word. Going into quad three, he sat down on a lounge chair, in the bright sunshine. The pain was subsiding in his bruised testicles, but now his injured pride became more important to him. He cursed himself for a fool, feeling himself lucky that he had talked her out of calling the police. The thing that really galled him was that the little bitch had bested him... and all he had gotten out of it was a belt in the balls. Christ! He hoped Audrey didn't find out about it! He'd never hear the end of it... But, that little blonde bitch wouldn't get away with doing this to him! No, Sir! He'd find some damned way to get back at her. Nobody was going to kick Buck Marcus in the nuts... and get away with it!

Three young children, accompanied by their mother came into the quad to use the swimming pool. Ordinarily, Buck might have stayed to watch the curvaceous brunette, but right then, he could have cared less. His balls were still hurting. He got up and walked slowly back to his own apartment, trying not to limp, so that Audrey wouldn't be asking him a lot of foolish questions.

As soon as the manager had left her apartment, Gayle collapsed into a chair with a sob of relief. She was sure she had barely missed being a rape victim. Then, she wondered why she had not gone through with her intention to telephone for police help. It had been foolish, she decided. What was there to stop him from trying it, again? All right... she had told him she wouldn't call the police... but the owners of the apartments might like to know something about the activities of their manager. That was it! She would do it! Maybe just getting him discharged was better than going through all the messy business with the police... and the courts.

Digging out the rental contract from a drawer she got the telephone number and placed the call. Later that morning, a woman sales representative from the real estate company called on her, and she, haltingly, told her story. The svelte, greying woman listened, asked pertinent questions, took a few notes and left with a few non-committal remarks, saying only she would report to the Personnel Manager of the firm.

Afterwards, she began to have doubts. Perhaps she had gone too far, for she was pretty sure that Buck Marcus would lose his manager's job. On the other hand, she told herself, he could have become violent. He might have hurt her... or killed her. Yes! She finally resolved it for herself. She had done the right thing. One thing, though: She wouldn't tell Jim about it. He might do something violent to Mr. Marcus... and that could be a problem. No! Definitely, she would not tell her husband!

By late afternoon, when Jim arrived home, finally, discouraged because there were no job prospects, at all, she had made another momentous decision.

She fixed him a cup of coffee and a quick sandwich. Quietly, she listened to his recounting of what had happened at the unemployment office. He ended with the observation, "We'll probably have to move, since we're not going to be able to pay the rent."

"Maybe we can, though, darling!" she said.

"How?" he asked. "I didn't know you had a rich uncle."

She ignored his weak sally. "I was thinking about it, today... wondering how I could help... since it seems like you're not going to be able to get a job for a while... " she began.

"You going to try to get a job?" he interrupted.

"Well... not exactly... I'm not trained... and I wouldn't even know where to begin looking... but I think I could win that two-hundred dollars Mr. Sloan is offering... in his... p-places!"

Jim's surprise was genuine. "You mean that, honey?"

"O-Of course, Jim... if it'll help. I could even work for him... for a while... until something turns up for you... " she offered. "That is if he offers me a job... "

"Why'd you change your mind, Gayle?" he asked. "You were so dead set against it last night... I don't understand... "

"Well... Mr. Marcus... w-was here... asking for the rent, because it was past due... a-and I told him we'd pay it tomorrow... for sure."

"So... was he nasty about it... or anything?"

"N-No... he said that'd be all right... " she lied.

"Are you sure you want to do it... the nude dancing, I mean?"

"If you don't mind having your wife show off her body to a bunch of goatish men?" she countered.

"I do mind," he admitted, "but I was getting a little desperate... when I suggested it, last night. Anyway, I'll be there to make sure you're all right... all the time!"

That same evening Jim drove across town to another of Brad Sloan's topless-bottomless bars, where he had advertised his Ladies' Amateur Night.

They were seated at a table towards the rear of the bar. Gayle was nervous and upset, not sure, now, that she wanted to go through with it. A lovely curvaceous blonde was just finishing her solo act, and Gayle watched her closely, in an effort to pick up some helpful pointers.

"J-Jim... I feel h-horrible... " she said, finally.

"Gayle, honey... you don't have to do it... you know... " Genuine concern was on his face. "I don't want you to feel like you're being forced to do it!"

"... But, I guess I have to... in a way, don't I?" she asked. "Otherwise... " She left it unspoken.

The music stopped, and the blonde, with a final, flashing smile at her appreciative audience, gathered up her clothing to leave the stage. She walked away with a provocative waggle of her hips, disappearing into a curtained doorway near the side of the stage.

Gayle hadn't seen the bar owner, until he walked up on the stage to make his announcement, which followed, more or less, the same pattern as the night before.

... Then, it was time. He was asking for volunteer contestants.

Four women decide to try. Gayle is one of them. Her heart beats like a trip-hammer, as she rises from her chair, Jim brushing her lips with a light kiss, murmuring, "Don't worry about anything, honey... I'll be right here!"

Her legs feel weak and rubbery, as she threads her way through the tables toward the stage. It seems like miles... instead of thirty-five or forty feet, and it's ages of time before she reaches the stairs at the side of the stage.

Ginny Sloan is there, with her husband, to meet the four women contestants. Gayle dares not look at the other women; she concentrates on what Ginny is saying. Brad Sloan recognizes Gayle, smiles at her and says, "I'm glad you changed your mind... Mrs. Bookman... Gayle isn't it?"

"Yes... " she smiles, weakly, aware the other three women listen, too... perhaps thinking it unfair she knows the bar owner.

... But Ginny is saying, "Try your best to please... take off as much as you feel like... but remember it's the girl that gets the most applause that counts!"

Brad Sloan adds, "Ginny and I only break ties... otherwise it's up to you... and how much they like you."

Blindly, Gayle takes her place on the stage. She is in back, on the right of the stage, and feels glad about it; she isn't sure she wants to be out in front, where the men in the front row would be able to ogle her at such close range. She looks out trying to see Jim, but the bright lights blind her. While she waits for the music to begin, she remembers to stand as gracefully as possible, telling herself to relax and blot out of her mind what she's about to do. Brad Sloan is standing at the side of the stage near her. She hears his hoarse whisper. "Smile!"

She looks in his direction, seeing him standing solid and heavy, smiling at her with open admiration. She tries a little smile.

"That's it!" he encourages. "They're not going to bite you!"

The music begins. It is loud as usual, Now is the time. She stands frozen.

"O.K... let's go!" It's Brad, again.

Hesitantly, she begins to move to the music, its driving rhythm, insistent, basic and primitive. She is a little more confident now and glances around at the other three contestants. The brunette, in front, isn't wasting any time; she has her blouse off already, and the frowsy-haired blonde, opposite her has her blouse off, revealing she had not worn a bra under it.

"Come on, Baby... take it off!" It's the braying voice of a man seated at a table in the first row. Glancing to where the bar owner had been standing, she sees that he is gone.

Another raucous voice shouts, "What're you waiting for? Take it off!"

With trembling fingers, she unbuttons her blouse, but still she hesitates, something in her unwilling to let her reveal her body to all these strange men.

Now, the brunette removes her bra, and as she turns to toss the garment aside, Gayle sees her lush, young breasts, mounding out proud and firm, and the round of applause she gets tells her the brunette could easily win those two one-hundred dollar bills Brad Sloan had displayed.

Gayle is there to win. She has to win! There is only one way to win, in this game; she has to show her body!

A horrible, imaginary scene flits through her mind, involving having to move from their comfortable apartment to a run-down hovel... or worse... Having no place to go; yet, even as the images form she knows it is irrational... But, still the rent must be paid!

What she is doing, then, must be done, also, regardless!

Her resolve is strengthened, and she whips the blouse off. There is a riffle of applause.

She wonders as she tosses the garment aside: Could the applause be for her?. She glances around at the other contestants. The brunette now has on only her panties... and is pushing them down low on her swelling, ivory hips.

The other woman, she notices, is still toying with her blouse, seemingly unable to get it off.

The contest is really only between Gayle and the brunette.

With renewed vigor, she throws herself into the dance, trying to remember what she had observed Ginny Sloan doing. Her fingers fumble with the hooks at the back of her bra, but finally they are loosened. She doesn't whip it off, immediately; instead, she uses it to tantalize, pulling it only part way off, then replacing it. Now, she pulls it down until only the cameo-pink nipples are covered.

"Take it off... damn it!" a man's voice bawls out.

She remembers to flash a smile in his direction. "Like this...?" she asks, and takes the bra away revealing her smooth, whitely mounding breasts in all their glory; then, she covers them, again, hastily.

"Come on... take it off!" Several men chorus it.

Only then, does she whisk the bra away, tossing it aside, then, she cups her breasts, provocatively, in her hands, swinging around, in her dance, knowing as she did that she was attracting the eyes of most of the men in the place.

She did it, but even so, her face flushes, as her body is exposed. Never before had she ever exposed her body, willingly. There was a ripple of applause. This time, she knows it is for her.

Now, Gayle is committed, and encouraged by her success, she steps out of her skirt. She had purposely not worn any encumbering clothing... no panty girdle, no hose; instead, she wore only a pair of brief, sheer-black panties.

"Take 'em off!" It is not for Gayle, though. The men are shouting their encouragement to the brunette. She has rolled the waistband of her panties down, but she is going no further. Gayle sees the brunette shaking her head.

She knows, then, that if she can get her panties off - even for a brief time - she can leave the stage the winner of the prize.

Tantalizingly, her hands move to the waistband of her panties. She grasps it, pulling out the front and pretending to gaze down inside them; then, she allows the elastic to snap shut. She is doing only what she had seen other dancers do, imitating them and hoping it was gaining her points with the audience.

She has captured the attention, now, of many of the men. They begin to shout, "Come on, Blondie... take 'em off!"

Hating every moment of what she is doing and keeping in her mind, firmly, that she is doing it only because she must win that money. Swallowing her feeling of shame, she begins, slowly, to roll the waistband of her panties down over the curving swell of her smoothly rounded hips, until the golden down of her loins peeps up over it, bringing forth more hoarse shouts from the spectators.

Now, she knows there isn't much time left. If she's going to win, she'll have to do it in the next few moments. The music will be ending... and the contest will be over. Already the music is driving toward its highest crescendo.

Desperately, feeling her face flame, she reaches down and pushes her panties down, exposing the triangle of her loins, completely.

"All the way, Blondie! Take 'em all the way off!"

She shoves her panties down her tapering thighs, almost to her knees. There are whistles, applause, exuberant shouts. She lets the black, wisp of nylon slide further down her legs.

Then... just as she reaches down to step out of them, the music ends. The contest is finished.

Hastily, she pulls her panties back up to a chorus of disappointed objections from the male audience, but she covers herself and stands waiting, expectantly, conscious, now, of her nudity. The cool air of the room washes over her body and she shivers, unconsciously, covering her exposed breasts with her arms folded across her chest.

Then Brad Sloan is on the stage. He is going through the rules, again. Going to the Brunette, he asks for audience applause. It is heavy. Likewise, he stands by each of the other two women; the little, mousy blonde gets some polite applause. She had finally managed to get her skirt off and her panty girdle unhooked. Now, she stands there, awkwardly, trying to re-hook it to her hose. The peroxide blonde still has her blouse on.

She is obviously embarrassed, as she receives little or no recognition.

Gayle's heart thumps, wildly; it's her turn, now. Brad stands beside her and raises his hand, saying, "... And, now this little lady...?"

There is tumultuous applause, mixed with shouts of approval. Brad smiles and says, "There's no doubt, then, Gayle Bookman is the winner!"

Amid further applause, he hands her the two one-hundred dollar bills.

She could hardly believe it. She looked down at the money in her hand and screamed, "I've won! I've won!"

Brad smiled down at her and waved his hand, again, for silence and said, "One of the side benefits is that I get to congratulate the winners!"

Gayle had forgotten. He had claimed it, as a right, with that little red-head. She didn't want to be kissed by the bar owner, but there was little she could do about it, now. Unwillingly, she slipped into his arms and she felt the power of them as he pressed her nude body close. He found her lips and kissed her soundly, his tongue snaking out, trying to make of it a passionate kiss, but she would not have it. She writhed away from him and said, "Th-Thank you... Mr. Sloan... " Before he released her, he said, "How'd you like to work for me, Gayle?"

She had hoped he would ask, but now that it was thrust upon her, she said, "That'd be up to my husband... I'd have to talk it over with him!"

"All right!" he boomed. "That's fair enough. You talk it over with Jim, and let me know... tomorrow!" Then, as he walked with her to the edge of the stage, his hand moved, quickly, surreptitiously, to caress a naked breast. She almost said something cutting, but she bit it back and moved away from him to gather up her clothing on the stage. "Y-Yes, Mr. Sloan... I-I'll let you know... tomorrow... " Jim met her at the foot of the stairs as she came down from the stage. If he had seen Brad Sloan's lewd caress of her wife's breast, he didn't show it. He smiled at her and said, "You won it, hands down, honey!"

In the crowded dressing room, she donned her clothing, quickly. The other women were polite. They congratulated her, coolly, a strong current of female cattiness running under it, and she was glad to get out of there, fast.

As she came through the curtained doorway, she saw Ginny Sloan and Jim talking together. Gayle had not met the woman, officially, before but Ginny came directly to her.

"Gayle," she said, "I've been trying to convince your husband that you should really consider Brad's offer... It'll be worth while for you! You were terrific, tonight!"

"Thank you... but I was terribly scared! I didn't know if I could go through with it."

"Everybody feels that way," the ravishing brunette assured her, "but you get used to it! I could teach you to be a first class exotic dancer!"

Gayle was feeling pressured. She wanted to escape, leave that place and go home.

Mustering her words, graciously, she said, "Thank you... Ginny... I want to think about it, and talk it over with Jim. I'm so jittery, right now... I-I want to get home... and... " Jim didn't understand, until she took his arm, saying "Let's go, darling... "

"What... oh, yeah... all right... " he stumbled. He had been looking at Ginny, unable to keep his eyes from straying to her provocative see-through blouse. "Good night, Ginny!"

"Good night, Gayle... Jim... " the "brunette said. She had been conscious of Jim's attention... also of the fact that he was a good-looking, young man. She watched them, as they left. Then, Brad was there beside her.

"She's all right," he observed. "I hope she accepts the job I offered her."

"She will!"

"How do you know?"

"Her husband's got roving eyes... and they need the money! He'll make sure she takes the job, now!"

"Were you working on him?" Brad asked.

"Well... not exactly... but he's got ideas, already!"

"Speaking of ideas, Ginny Doll... I've got a few of my own... for later on, tonight!" he said, looking through her blouse.


CHAPTER FIVE

Stripping off his dressing robe to reveal his heavy-muscled nudity, Brad Sloan came to the big bed where his wife, Ginny, lay, posing provocatively for him. He continued the kidding tone of their mock argument. "Don't try to kid me," he said. "I saw you making points with Jim Bookman!"

"He's a nice-looking guy... and I'd be willing to bet he's quite a stud!" she countered. "... Besides, I saw you take a quick feel of Gayle's breast... right on the stage!"

"Hell! You can't fault me for that! She's a luscious, little doll!"

"With some training, she'd make a big hit... as a dancer!" Ginny observed, taking the professional view.

"I was thinking of a different kind of training," he said, lewdly.

"Oh, oh... here we go, again! You getting ideas about her?"

"Hell... I get ideas just looking at her!"

"Well, how about using some of those ideas with me, right now?" Ginny said, a little petulantly. "I'm right her... ready and willing... "

"... And, damned able!" Brad said, climbing onto the bed beside her and leaning over to kiss her hard on the mouth using his lips and tongue, his lingual member thrusting deeply into her mouth to taste the sweet nectar of her. His big hand went up under her sheer, shorty nightgown to the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh. He felt their swelling smoothness, paying homage to each in turn, the coralline-pink buds of her nipples coming erect and standing out' into his palm.

"Let's get this damned nightgown off of you!" he grumbled, giving it a tug.

"All right, darling... but don't tear it, like you did the last one!" she warned.

"I don't like anything in the way!"

Quickly, she sat up and removed the fluff of nylon. As it came over her head, her breasts burst from their gentle confinement, thrusting up, proudly, before him, and he glued his mouth, instantly, to one nipple, sucking and nipping at the erect nipple, heartily, causing her to mewl in throaty pleasure, as he massaged her other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smooth flesh and feeling the pliant warmth of it. Deftly, he rolled the pink-hued, berry-like pap between his thumb and finger.

Now, that hand left her breast, and went in search of other, more tender, intimate flesh, sliding down across her flat belly, smoothing around the swelling curve of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her satiny thigh, to the soft, inner juncture of her loins, where his hand roamed in the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound.

Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them, slightly, for him, allowing him full access to the tight, resiliency of her fast-moistening vaginal opening. He insinuated a slithering finger into the moist warmth of her pussy and began to move it in ever widening circles just inside the vestibule of her cuntal passage.

After a few moments, her hips began to undulate up against his probing hand, and he removed the moistened finger from her gently clasping, fast-responding cuntal passage, moving it up through her delicate furrow to find the hardening shaft of her clitoris. Lightly, he stroked it, feeling it become even more turgid, under his manipulation. Then, he found the super-sensitive head of the miniature phallus, his touch setting off sensual shocks in her body. She moaned aloud, "Oh, Brad, darling... don't make me wait, so long... I want you to eat me... now!"

One thing about Ginny, Brad reflected, was that she was direct. She always knew what she wanted... and asked for it. He was glad of it; things were always interesting with her, and she used a wide range of imaginative inventiveness in her approach to sex.

"All right," he agreed, as his mouth left her breast, and his hand deserted her loins so that he could shift positions, "but let's have a little sixty-nine... while we're at it!"

"Oh, yummy... Daddy's going to let me have my lollipop, tonight!" she said, kiddingly.

"Just save some of it, though, I want to be able to fuck you with it!" he said, moving to straddle her face, his knees on either side of her head, his own head poised directly over the darkly hair-lined cleft of her softly pulsing cunt.

"I'll only get it worked up, then... " she agreed, reaching up, greedily, to take the expanding shaft of his cock into her tiny hands.

With practiced knowledge, she used her nails, tracing lightly up and down the massive length of his hardening shaft, tantalizing it to great hardness. Then, while she gripped his cock with one hand, her other treated his scrotal sac to the same sensation-producing titillation.

Meanwhile, Brad's head sunk down between his wife's now wide-splayed thighs to where the nether eye of her throbbing cunt undulated up to him, expectantly. He saw that moist, viscous droplets of libidinous lubrication glistened in the coral opening of her pussy.

With a little moan of desire, his head went down deep into the angle of her thighs, his tongue reaching out to snake into the warm, liquid depths of her vaginal orifice, and his mouth clamped tight to the opening in the most intimate, personal kind of oral-genital kiss.

She raised her loins up to him, and he heard her moan of ecstatic pleasure.

Deeper, his tongue probed into her cuntal passage, tasting the acrid pungency of her slippery love-dew, the moisture from his mouth mingling with it, as he moved his tongue in circles inside, while he felt her gentle hands on the shaft of his hardening cock, the sensations of it causing it to become harder and longer. Then, as her lips made their first contact with the sensitive cock-head, it jerked, involuntarily, in her hand, and he could feel a single droplet of his own preparatory juice weep from the slit in its tip.

Ginny, beneath him, deftly pulled the heavy foreskin back to expose the red-satin of his bulbous cock's head; pulling it gently to her, she kissed the pulsing flesh, before taking the head into her mouth between her rolled-in lips. Then, as she kept a light pressure, she swirled her tongue around and around the corona, pausing, occasionally, to dip the tip of her tongue into the tiny urethral slit in the crown.

At the same time, the erotic sensations his licking, sucking mouth generated in her loins raced through her, arcingly, like summer heat lightning. His tongue seared her with its lashing, snake-like searching, and she gyrated her pelvis up to his mouth, voraciously, asking for more and more of his ecstasy building orality. Happily, she mewled her pleasure around the pulsing head of his cock. She dearly loved to have her husband perform cunnilingus on her; he was definitely an expert lover, always knowing exactly what to do for her.

True to her word to him, tonight, she only tantalized his cock to hard readiness, refraining from actually sucking it - or using her mouth as a surrogate vagina, moving her head to absorb him deeply in imitation of coition - she knew it could bring him to ejaculation, too soon... and he had told her he wanted to fuck her. She shivered with the anticipation of having his big cock pounding in and out of her cunt... as only Brad could do it. He never failed to bring her to the soaring heights of rapture and exploding orgasm.

Below, his head buried deep in the cusp of her thighs, Brad licked and sucked at her, wildly, his tongue lashing up and down the slit on her pussy, making plunging forays in the moist cuntal channel; then, up to the throbbing clitoris, rising hard from its soft, enfolding, hair-lined flesh, erupting even harder and pulsating, warmly, as his tongue circled it then concentrated on the tumescent, sensitive head. He teased it, tantalized it, urging the tiny bud on to ever greater, sensation producing, nerve-tingling sexuality. Ginny was moaning, now, almost incessantly, her demanding pelvis thrusting up against his face, her hips moving in lewd circles under his insistent mouth and tongue, thighs opening to him, wantonly, invitingly, wanting even greater enhancement and more inventive titillation of his mouth and tongue on her heated loins.

Brad had held his own pelvis immobile while Ginny had sucked his massive cock to rock hardness. He had just begun to think he wouldn't be able to wait much longer; he'd have to get it into her cunt pretty soon for some regular, old-fashioned fucking... or she'd have him cumming this way. He liked it either way, equally well... but tonight, he wanted to fuck her in that luscious cunt of hers. Christ! She should be ready!

Then, he felt her mouth release the head of his cock, and her voice came to him, "Oh, God... Brad! It's time... now! I want you to fuck me... hard, with this wonderful cock of yours!"

She writhed her body, attempting to change positions beneath him. Brad moved his heavy, muscular body, changing his own position on top of her, to cradle his hips between her smooth, white, tapering thighs, which she allowed to splay wide to receive him. As the lust-gorged head of his wildly pulsating cock nudged into the moist warmth of her cuntal slit, she reached down between them, taking the huge length and breadth of his cock in her hand and guiding it, smoothly, between the inner-lips of her cunt. She lined it up, the satin-smooth, bulbous head entering her cunt-mouth with a rush, as he flexed his hips and drove it into her, fiercely, in one lunging, moistly sliding action, the long, thick, blood-corded shaft of his cock buried to the root in her clasping, ready cuntal passage.

"OOOooohh! Darling... OOOoooohhh!" she groaned, with the pleasure of it, as his great cock plundered the depths of her vagina, the massive hardness of it ramming deep up into her... almost, it seemed, to the very matrix of her being.

The moist heat of her captured him, enveloped and absorbed him, completely, as he went into her, the exquisite folds of her cuntal sheath clamping around him, caressingly, and he could feel the delicate, inner muscles of her vagina clasping and unclasping on him, for the full length of his lustful cock. It was almost like a milking action, the sensations of it an exquisite erotic torture, as he held his prick immobile in her cunt, not moving yet, for his whole being was there, in his pulsing, hardened penis, deep inside the smooth softness of her moistly ready cunt.

Brad began to fuck into his wife with short, quick thrusts, upward into her warm, moist depths, holding himself aloft, above her, cradled between her long, tapering thighs and using all of the strength of his powerfully muscled back and legs to drive his huge cock home into her tender and softly clasping vagina, bringing constant moans of ecstatic pleasure, moaningly, from deep in her throat.

"Come on, darling... give it to me! Faster! Longer! Deeper... and harder!" she gasped, demandingly, wanting more and yet more of him.

He knew what she wanted. His hard, blood-engorged cock began to drive deeper and longer into her, its great girth pulling the soft, irregular edges of her cuntal flesh out with it on each out-stroke to reveal the moist, coralline lining of her cuntal passage; then, on the punishing instroke.

There, beneath him, she could feel the hard, hot shaft of his mighty cock rampaging into her, generating ever more desire, and she couldn't get enough of him, as she incessantly goaded him on with groans of pure pleasure, interspersed with her specific, coughed-out demands. At times, she chanted a sexual litany, in rhythm with their thrashing bodies, her loins moving in perfect counterpoint to him, in wild, uncontrolled passion.

"Fuck me, Brad! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuckme-fuckmefuckme! Hard! Harder!" she chanted up into his face, her own countenance a study of hedonistic eroticism.

Sloan complied. He ground into his wife with renewed energy, pulling his knees up to gain more leverage and strength, as her hips squirmed up at him, uncontrollably, straining back at him, with almost equal animal energy, her pelvis arching up to take all of his thick, hardened cock into her needful loins.

He loved her most when she was like this, he mused. She really knew what she wanted... and went after it. In a way, she was like himself, in that respect. What a woman she was... and what a perfect sex-mate!

"Oh, Brad, darling! Oh, God... I've got to have more! Give it to me! Shove all of your cock in me! All of it!" Ginny demanded of him.

Leaning up, momentarily, he grasped her knees, spreading her thighs yet wider apart; then, with his arms under her knees, he pressed her legs back against her chest to squash the full, mounds of her white breasts, cruelly. In this position, he went into her, deeply, on every stroke, his pelvis cracking into her defenseless, naked and wide-open cunt with punishing brutality. She was being pinned to the mattress by her husband's big cock like an entomological specimen tacked to a display panel... and she loved every plundering stroke of it, as he plumbed her very bottom, his heavy balls slapping hard against the tiny, crinkled brown ring of her anus, below, in the crease of her flexing buttocks.

She hung there, on the rapidly crumbling edge of orgasm, but she couldn't cum, yet; she had to have more.

"I'm... almost there, darling... but I can't cum yet!" she choked. "Use your finger... in my ass! Shove it all the way in! Make it hurt! Make me scream! Make me... cum... and cum!"

Her husband, slaving above her, became all the more inflamed, his own passion rising to white heat, as she kept asking him, urging him and demanding the utmost of him, as she rose to meet his pistoning cock in her cunt with every powerful stroke.

He reached under her, lifting her buttocks, easily, into position, while he continued driving his wildly pulsating cock deep into the sheathing moisture of her ever-demanding cunt.

Finding the crevice between her buttocks, he stretched it wide, his finger searching for the softly, resilient lower opening. He found it, and with his middle finger, moistened in the viscous drops of lubricant that dribbled from her heated vagina, probed at the tiny, tight nether orifice. He slipped the tip of it into her wildly flexing rectum, lewdly, working it in, gradually, until he felt the taut muscle ring give, slightly. Then... he pushed a little harder, and the elastic flesh of her anus relaxed, his finger slipping in to the first knuckle. He felt the shock of it in her body, as she recoiled, instinctively, to escape it, squirming her smooth, round buttocks down and back, away from that probingly painful digit in her back passage. Her retreat from it was only momentary. She wanted it... wanted to feel it... wanted the hurt of it.

She panted up into his face, "Push it in... all the way! Make it hurt... darling!"

He did what she demanded. He jabbed his finger into her, all the way to the palm of his hand, reaching up into the warm sponginess of her smoothly lined rectum to bury it deeply in her, without mercy.

"OOOOOoooooohhh! AAAaaaaauuuuuggggh! That's it... Brad! It hurts... so good! OOOoooOOOHHhhh!" she screamed, her passion soaring with the excruciating sensations it generated.

Ginny screwed her rectum back against her husband's finger in her rear entry, and knowing that she was enjoying it to the fullest, he began to move his finger, swirling it around and around in the fleshy confines of her rectum. As he did so, he could feel his cock through the thin wall of separating tissues, where it raced in and out of her vagina.

He never failed to be amazed at the heightened sensations this generated in his big, aching cock, and now, he began to move his finger in tempo with his prick, skewering her loins with both, at the same time. Beneath him, she moved her hips in opposition to him, accepting both instruments in her needful, salacious loins, in a wedding of pleasure and pain, and she reveled in it, wanting to go on and one... until she came... and came, again.

Caught up in her rapturous passion, she mewled, groaned, gurgled and moaned, beneath him, the sounds emanating from deep in her throat, mixed with short, panting gasps of pleasure or pain, as her husband pistoned, smoothly, in and out of her lust-filled cunt and wildly clenching rectum, simultaneously.

Brad knew, then, that she was nearing her climax; a few moments, before, he had wondered how long she would hang there, in the balance, and he experienced a flash of panic that she would not cum before him... or with him. As he continued to plunge into her, she mouthed obscenities, driving him onward to even greater effort, his own passion rising in a spiral toward the summit and a final thrusting, shoving, wildly spewing ejaculation. His aching cock became stiffer and harder, coming to full, blood-trapped erection, and he was more than painfully aware of the dammed up flood of semen back behind the root of his cock waiting to be jetted from the top of his throbbing cock-head to splash into the warm moistness of his wife's cunt.

She was wild, now... delirious and uncontrolled as she came nearer and yet more near to her time of exquisite rapture... a "time when time, itself, stands still... and there is nothing but that ecstatic moment.

"Fuck me, Brad! Fill my cunt... with cock! Fill my ass! Fuck me... hard... harder! Fuck! Fuck it! Fuckit! Fuckitfuckit! Oh, Fuck!" she chanted up at him, in completely wild abandon, increasing the speed of her chant like a coxswain urging his rowers to winning effort. She demanded her orgasm, wanting it to come to her... now! Then... then, she began the rushing, spiraling, giddy flight to the heights of her rapture.

She came, her body convulsing in surging waves of muscle-relaxing orgasm, and she was suspended in time and space, in an euphoric limbo; then, as in a dream, she heard her own voice, seemingly unreal, screaming out her ecstasy, "AAAAAAaaaauuuugghh! I'm cumming! Immmmm cuuuuuummmmmmmiiiiiiinnnnnng! AAAAAAaaaaaauuuuuugggggghhhhhh!"

As Ginny screamed with the pleasure of her climax, Brad was spurred on to his own. He jerked his finger from her backside and raised himself up over her, slightly, his steel-hard cock moving faster and faster, deeper and harder. His mighty shaft was like a machine in her, the piston of his cock moving with long, powerful strokes. He felt the load of semen in his balls as it began to be jettisoned from him, pumping through the length of his cock, spewingly, in spasmodic jets of white, hot, viscous sperm that splashed far up in his wife's cunt, while spasms of intense pleasure shot through him in mind-shattering, body-fulfilling waves of sensuality. He held himself rigid and immobile, for a moment or two, letting it happen, then with a huge groan of satisfaction, he collapsed on top of her. Deep inside her clasping cuntal sheath his big cock continued to jerk, emptying him, completely.

"Christ!" he groaned. "I'm still cumming... I'm still cumming... in you!"

Ginny mumbled, "Darling... that was wonderful... absolutely wonderful! Out of this world! It's the nicest fuck we've had... in a long time!"

"Well... don't forget last night," he said smiling down into her serenely satiated face. "We sucked each other all the way!"

"I like it different ways... at different times," she said.

They lay, quietly, for a few moments, she still cradling him between her wide-spread thighs; then, with a sigh, he rolled from on top of her, his almost flaccid cock pulling from her vagina with a liquid, sucking sound. Languidly, he reached for cigarettes and lighter and lit up for them. Handing her her cigarette, he said, "Speaking of something new and different... that blonde, Gayle Bookman, really appeals to me.

His wife propped herself up with a pillow against the headboard. "Oh, oh, here we go, again!"

She knew what he was getting at; she read it plainly. Their understanding of each other made it possible for her to continue, without rancor, "I suppose you'd like to get her into bed...?"

"Now that you put it so bluntly... yes!" he said, truthfully. "... But, it'd be a lot more fun... if we did it together!"

Ginny was thoughtful for a moment, then she said, "I'll make a deal with you... you know that mink stole I was telling you about...?"

"Yeah... go on!"

"Get it for me... and I'll go along with your little game!"

"Ginny, darling... you've got yourself a deal!"

She smiled with self-satisfaction. Jim Bookman, she figured, might be a lot of fun in bed, too. He looked like he might be a pretty good stud. It'd be more than very interesting to find out!"

They were driving home. Jim had experienced mixed feelings concerning Gayle's winning of the strip contest. He was glad she had won the money. God knows they needed it!

But, when he saw her expose her body, there was a feeling of pride that he was married to such a beautiful woman... mixed with a vague sense of shame that he was allowing her to expose her luscious secrets to ogling strangers. Then, there was the sexual stimulation generated in him. He had gotten hot just watching her and was looking forward with anticipation to getting her into bed.

"Damn... watching you, tonight... sure has made me hot for you!" he said, reaching over to caress her bare thigh.

She moved away from him and turned a strained, drawn face to him. "Don't expect anything from me, tonight," she said. "I've got a horrible... sick headache... and my stomach's turning flip-flops!"

Damn! He'd heard that one quite a few times, too. She was always finding some reason to avoid sex, and this one was one of her favorites, it seemed.

"Well... " he reasoned, "you can take something for it when we get home... and you ought to be all right... after a while... "

"It never seems to work... with me!" she said. "Anyway... I don't feel like it... tonight.

"Christ! You never feel like it!" he exploded.

The rest of the drive home was made in icy silence. He made another try, later. They were already in bed. His desire for her was undiminished, his big cock rising stiff and hard up against his abdomen, as he slid over to curl himself around the curve of her back, reaching over her to fondle a full breast through the sheer material of her nightgown.

"Jim... I told you... not tonight!" Her voice was cold and distant.

"And why the hell not?" he asked.

"I told you!" she flared. "Besides... we did it last night!"

That was another of her favored reasons, he thought, and when she was like this... there wasn't much chance of getting what he wanted; of course, he could try to force her... but, hell... sometimes it wasn't worth the hassle. He swore.

"To hell with it!" Then, turning away from her, back to back, he tried to go to sleep.

It was frustrating. His balls ached. His cock throbbed... but after some time, tossing and turning, fretfully, sleep came to him. He was frustrated... and angry. It had happened too many times... too many times... and he was getting damned tired of it!

The following morning Jim was grumpy. He ate breakfast morosely, still feeling the frustrations of the night before. After he had finished breakfast, he shaved, thinking seriously about going out to look for a job... any kind of a job, at this point. Then, he remembered: There was the rent to be paid.

Ambling over to the first quadrangle, he pushed the doorbell of the apartment marked Manager. The door was opened by Audrey Marcus. "Yes?" she scowled. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

"I'd like to pay the rent, Mrs. Marcus... "

"Pay it upstairs... the Assistant Manager!" she said, a snarl in her voice, and closed the door in his face.

A little disturbed, he went up the stairs and dutifully paid the required amount to the bouncy, little brunette, whose husband filled the part-time job of manager.

"Is Buck leaving as manager?" he asked, folding his receipt and stuffing it into a pocket.

"Golly... I suppose so... he was given his notice... and we have to do his job... until they get somebody... I don't think Bill'll want to do this full time... "

"He was fired, then?"

"Yes... " she said, simply.

"Do you happen to know why... he seemed to be doing a good job...?"

"Well... I don't think it was because he wasn't doing a good job... I think it must've been something else... " she hinted.

"Like...?"

"Well... like paying too much attention to... some of the women tenants... " She had said more than she should have, already, and she turned to take care of a toddler, clinging to her skirts. "But, I don't know that for sure... so don't quote me!" she added.

Jim returned to his own apartment. Gayle wanted to shop for groceries, so he gave her all but five dollars of the remaining prize money. After she had gone, he began going through the want ads of the morning papers, looking for job possibilities.

The telephone rang, and he went to answer it.


CHAPTER SIX

Jim picked up the phone. "Hello!" he said.

The woman's voice, on the other end of the wire, was low, throaty, exciting. "Jim... ? Jim Bookman...?" she asked.

"Yes... yes it is," he answered, trying to place that voice in his memory.

"Ginny," she said, "... Ginny Sloan."

"Of course... I should have recognized your voice... if you want to talk to Gayle, you can't... she's out shopping... " he told her.

"No... I want to talk to you, Jim," she said. "Will you come down to the place on the Boulevard... meet me there... and we'll have lunch?"

"Sure... I'd be glad to... what's the deal?"

"Brad and I were talking last night... about the possibility that you might be interested... in a job with us, too."

"I might," he said. "What do you have in mind?"

"Meet me in a half hour... and I'll explain it to you... O.K.?"

"O.K.!" he agreed. "I'll be there!"

He cradled the phone and breathed, half aloud, "I'll be damned!"

There was no inkling of a hint in her conversation as to the kind of job being offered, but he'd sure as hell listen to whatever proposition the Sloans had in mind; then, he realized Gayle hadn't said, yet, whether she was even considering the dancing job Brad Sloan had offered her. Maybe, it didn't involve her, anyway; it was probably a bartender's job they had to offer... except she had used the word too. He looked at his watch; it was already past 11:30, and he supposed he had better put on a tie and a jacket... if he was going to have lunch with the Sloans. No! That wasn't right. She had not mentioned her husband, at all. He was to have lunch with Ginny... alone! Now, he was really curious and a strange excitement began to build in him. Damn! He had almost missed the point. Ginny Sloan wanted to have lunch with him, alone! Why? To offer him a job, she said... but maybe there was more to it than that, he speculated. She was a damned beautiful woman... do you suppose? She couldn't be interested in Jim Bookman! Or... could she? It was a possibility, he considered; he was sure as hell interested in her! What man wouldn't be?

Christ! It was all he could do, last night, he remembered... to stand there and talk to her, without reaching out to touch her. That blouse she was wearing was enough to have him climbing the walls!

Then, he remembered. He couldn't go anywhere, until Gayle came back with the car. Well, he could get dressed and be ready to go when she did return. He went into the bedroom and put on a clean shirt, a tie and sports jacket.

Gayle came in just as he was putting the finishing touches on combing his hair. "I'm back!" she called out to him from the kitchen.

"It's about time!" he growled. "I have to go for a job interview!"

"Oh, that's good!" she exclaimed. "What kind of a job?"

"Tending bar, I think... " he told her, then added, questioningly, "what've you decided about that job Brad Sloan offered you?" He walked into the kitchen where she was unloading bags of groceries.

Gayle stopped, thoughtfully, holding a can of tomato soup in her hand. "I - I thought that'd be a sort of last resort... if you didn't get a job... but if you get this job, today... I... wouldn't... "

"It's Sloan I'm going to see," he lied, "and what do I tell him... if it turns out to be some kind of deal involving both of us?"

"Well... then I would... especially if you're going to be right there... while I - I... "

"Taking off your clothes!" he finished. "I'd make it a point to be there... whether I was working for him or not! You'd have to have some protection!"

"I'd do it for a while... then... so maybe we could pay off some of our debts... " she said.

"All right... I know just about where we stand... I'll be on my way... " He brushed her lips with a quick kiss.

"What about your lunch?" she asked as he headed for the door.

"I'm supposed to have lunch with the Sloans," he lied, again, rationalizing that what she didn't know about this lunch date sure as hell wouldn't hurt her... especially, if it developed into something with Ginny Sloan.

"All right, darling... Goodbye... " she said, turning back to her task.

Jim left her there, and as he got into his car all of his thoughts were concentrated on the exciting vision of Ginny Sloan.

The bar was closed; it didn't open for business until mid-afternoon, Jim noted, as he rapped on the door. His watch told him he was about ten minutes later than he had agreed to be there. He had knocked a second and a third time and was beginning to think about going to the rear door, when he heard the bolt slide back. The door opened and Ginny Sloan was there, radiant smile welcoming him, her mini-sheath leaving little to his imagination.

"Come in, Jim... we'll have a quick drink before lunch... "

"That'd be great!" he agreed, following her into the dimly lighted bar.

She paused to re-lock the door. "What'll you have?" she asked, walking behind the bar.

"Scotch on the rocks'll be fine," he ordered.

"Coming up!" She put ice-cubes in a glass and poured him a double. Then, she came around the bar and slid onto a stool next to him.

"Cheers!" she said, lifting her own glass.

He saluted her with his own drink and took a healthy swallow, finding he had a hard time not looking down at those marvelous dancer's legs of hers. They were exposed almost all the way up... and he wondered, vaguely, if there were panties underneath the mini-thing she was wearing. With an effort, he decided to concentrate on the reason he was there; anything else could take care of itself. He'd have to play it by ear; however, there was one point already in his favor. He was alone with her... behind locked doors!

Putting his glass down on the bar, he faced her, getting another view of her breathtaking legs. Determined not to let himself be distracted, he asked, "What's the job you and" Brad have in mind?"

"We need a sort of combination driver and bodyguard... to drive the girls around to the places, and watch over them while they're performing... make sure nothing happens to them "I see... " he said, "kind of like a bouncer."

"Not exactly... it's more bodyguard work, just for the girls. The managers take care of all the rest," she explained; then added, "Oh, yes... in case one of the places gets raided... girls are arrested... you stay clear and call the bail bondsman, so we can get them out... fast!"

"It should be very interesting... "

"Especially... if your wife comes to work for us, too." It was neither a question nor a statement.

"Is this a sort of package deal... You want both of us?" he asked.

"You could call it that... " Ginny said, picking up her glass and sipping from it. Above the top of the glass, her eyes smoldered darkly at him. "Do you want the job?"

"Yes," he said, simply.

It was settled.

"Good!" She swung around to face him. "Finish your drink... and we'll go find some lunch!"

Her skirt had hiked up a little more, and he didn't have to wonder any more. She did have on panties. He could see a tiny wisp of black nylon barely sheathing her loins, as he looked down at the free show she was putting on for his benefit. Was she offering him something... extending a wordless invitation?

"Your husband...?" he began.

"He's off somewhere... on business... " she answered before he had a chance to finish.

Jim was having a hard time trying to concentrate on looking at her face; his eyes drifted, again, to the smooth, white tapering thighs, exposed so thoroughly to him.

She watched him, bemused. "Of course," she went on, "we could skip lunch... I'm not particularly hungry... and if I read your eyes right... you've got a different kind of hunger!"

"It's pretty hard... not to enjoy the scenery... " he mumbled, surprised. He looked back up into her eyes, while below, between his legs, he felt the hot blood pumping, wildly, into his penis. It expanded against the confines of his clothing and began to throb.

"Do you see something... you like?" she asked, her voice low and throaty. Her hand went out to his thigh and moved upward, in tiny massaging circles, inching upward toward his crotch. His cock jerked, involuntarily, and he felt the crawling, tightening sensation in his scrotum, as it began to pull his testicles up tight to his body. There was the familiar aching desire in him as her warm hand caressed his thigh, moving ever upward. This couldn't be real! Ginny Sloan seemed to be intent on seducing him! She had reached her goal. Her fingers brushed the length of his erect cock, feeling it through his trousers, and her touch sliced through him, bringing it to full, pulsingly instantaneous erection.

"I sure as hell do!" he declared, then, not quite so boldly or surely, he asked, again, "What about... your husband?"

"What about him?" she countered with another question, her smiling eyes seeming to mock him.

"Well... " he said, not daring to reach out to touch her... yet, "I wouldn't want to cross him... especially, if he's going to be my boss!" He had gotten it all out in a rush.

Her quicksilver laughter surprised him. "My husband knows what I'm doing!"

Jim could only gape in disbelief. "What...?"

"Just like I know what he does! It's a nice little agreement we have!"

"You mean...?"

"... And, it works!" she continued. "We each do our own thing... and nobody gets hurt!"

Her hand, rummaged in his crotch and tightened on his throbbing cock. He couldn't help the quickly indrawn breath, as lascivious sensations surged through him. Christ! It was really happening! She was throwing him the widest possible invitation, and he'd be a stupid fool not to take it! The way he felt, right then, he could take her, on the instant, while she sat on the bar-stool. Impulsively, he started to reach out for her. His hand got as far as the top of her thigh, where she restrained him with her free hand and a warning. "Don't touch me... yet! If you'd like to have me... we can go down to our place on the beach... it takes about ten minutes to drive there! Can you wait that long?"

"I can... if I have to!" he growled, attempting to snake his hand on up her thigh.

"Let's go, then!" she said. "You can follow me!" She came off the bar-stool and led him to the front door, where she ushered him out, telling him, "I'll pull my car around in front."

Jim trailed her red Porche and couldn't help admiring the way she drove, expertly; he was a little hard-pressed at times to keep up with her. She had to slow down and wait for him a couple of times.

The house faced the beach. She waved him into the space next to her little Porche in the car port tucked in under the house, itself.

She led the way. As she climbed the stairs, ahead of him, he watched the ripple and sway of her buttocks, under the tight mini-dress, her thighs partially visible to him, almost all the way up to those jet-black panties, the smooth contours of them exciting him anew, as he felt the familiar surge in his cock, coming to full erection, again, its having subsided during the time he had had to drive through the streets.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to go into this very nice redwood beach house with Ginny Sloan... and if everything went according to natural events, he was going to fuck her. In doing so, he was going to be unfaithful to Gayle... but hell!... he was ready for it. Gayle's frigidity... her excuses... her lack of cooperation that produced constant frustration in him had reached the point where he had even warned her he would do exactly what he was doing, now. It had just begun to happen sooner than he had expected... and in a most unexpected way.

There was no question in his mind; he loved his wife. He just wished to hell she'd break out of her shell... and really let him love her!

Inside, he looked around, appreciatively. They were in the huge living room. The entire wall facing the Pacific was glass, giving a panoramic view of the beach and the water.

There was a huge fireplace, tasteful furnishings and appointments.

"Very nice," he observed.

"We like it," she said. "It's just right for the little get-togethers our club has... "

"Club...?"

"Yes... for couples... " She was being a little mysterious, now.

Ginny sank gracefully down to the cushions on the floor before the fireplace, arranging herself, comfortably, with her legs tucked underneath her, her mini hiking up to show off her thighs to him, again. She waved a hand toward the bar. "Another drink... first?"

"Yes... if you are... "

"I am!" she said, firmly. "I want to explain a few things to you... before we... get too far along..."

"Oh...?" He was mystified. Things weren't as simple as he thought, at first. There must be some strings attached, somewhere. Thoughtfully, he walked to the bar, found it well-stocked and poured two Scotches on the rocks, remembering what she had had in her husband's deserted bar. He carried the drinks to where she sat and lowered himself down to a cushion to face her. She took her drink, toasted him silently and sipped. He did likewise, waiting, now, for her to go on with her explanation.

"I told you... Brad and I have an understanding... " she began.

"I understand that... So...?"

"It's always with couples!"

"The club you mentioned...?"

"Yes... "

"Then... it's actually a mate swapping deal Suddenly, it was clear to him. Couples! that meant Gayle would have to be involved. She would have to be a part of it! That was the string attached to Ginny. He couldn't have Ginny... unless Brad could also have Gayle!

"Do you understand it?"

"Too damned well!" Jim grunted. "Brad's got his eye on Gayle... my wife... and you're the bait!

"That's a little crude!" she sniffed. "But... you're getting the idea... " She took a swallow from her glass and did her eye-smoldering thing, for him, again. She went on, "How do you like the... suggestion?"

"It sounds more like a proposition!" he expostulated. "... And, I'm caught right in the middle! You're asking me to throw Gayle into your husband's bed... and I don't know whether I could do that to her!" He was expressing a righteous anger.

"Let's put it another way, darling... you wouldn't be here if you didn't want me... You do... don't you?" She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Hell yes!" he growled. "... But, that's different!"

"Is it... really?" she asked, then answered her own question. "I don't think so! She's a big girl... and she can make up her own mind whether she wants to go to bed with my husband! Would you give her that much credit?"

Jim had to admit there was logic to the argument. "Yeah... that sounds pretty good. She is over 21... " '"Then, all you have to do... is leave it up to Brad... let him do his best to convince her... right...?"

"I see what you mean... " He was thoughtful.

"Brad and I thought maybe you'd like to join our club... afterwards... " she said.

"As a couple?"

"That's the only way you could... you both have to agree on it!"

"Do I have to sell her on it?"

"Not necessarily... leave it up to Brad," Ginny told him. "If anybody can do it, he can!"

Jim's stiff penis, inside his pants, ached from his great need. It throbbed and lurched, involuntarily, as he was forced to wait, and he wished he hadn't had to go through with all this talk. He liked for things to be a little more direct. There was one thing sure: As soon as he reached out to touch this ravishing creature... he was giving his tacit permission for her husband to do the same thing to Gayle. Could he do it? Hell, yes, he could! Not that Gayle had ever said so, herself, but articulate women had been speaking out, lately, about true equality of the sexes. If there was an equality, then women should have the right to choose their own partners... in or out of marriage, in the same way he was choosing, right now. From that point of view, how could he be doing his wife a disservice. She had the right to say yes... or no! The decision was hers to make.

"Fair enough!" he said and took a healthy swallow of the Scotch.

"Then, it's agreed?"

"Right! Like you say... Gayle's a big girl... now!"

"... And, you're a big boy... I hope!"

By mutual agreement, they tossed off the remainder of their drinks and placed the glasses on the hearth. "There's one way for you to find out!" he murmured, reaching out for her.

Yes! Jim Bookman was a big boy... a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and Ginny Sloan embodied everything he wanted, at that moment. The promise in her eyes and in the lushness of her body held him captive. He couldn't have done otherwise. Even the knowledge that as he reached out to take this lovely creature into his arms he was, at the same time, committing Gayle to the same thing... in the arms of Brad Sloan, did not deter him. He wanted her!

... So he reached for her to claim what she had offered him. It was as simple as that!


CHAPTER SEVEN

He reached for her, and Ginny came, eagerly, into his arms, her lips waiting, as he searched and found them with his own. Their mouths welded together, in passion, and their tongues probed searchingly, tasting, savoring and exciting each other.

With hard hands, he explored her body; her luscious curves, under the thin material of her dress, he found unencumbered by other garments. She wore nothing but the panties under it. He felt her full, melon-like breasts, through the dress and massaged them, aware of their smooth firmness under his hand. Reveling in the feel of them, he wanted them free and naked.

His hand slid upward, along her back, to her neck, found the zipper clasp, grasped it and gave a long, smooth, sighing pull, opening her dress to her waist. Deftly, she shrugged her shoulders. The garment fell forward, and she extracted her arms, the dress falling into her lap to expose her lovely body to the navel. She was a feast for his eyes, her upthrusting mounds of smoothly rounded breast, glowing alabaster white, without a trace of suntan; just underneath her almost translucent skin he could see the delicate tracery of veins, showing pale blue.

Instantly, his mouth was there, kissing them, his hands caressing those magnificent, softly pliant orbs of female flesh, and while his mouth sucked one cameo-pink nipple, his hands kneaded the other, caressingly; between thumb and forefinger, he rolled it and felt it grow to firm erectness, before he switched the process. He still almost couldn't believe it was happening. What a woman! He had to believe it... what he was fondling caressingly was real flesh and blood woman... a woman whose name was Ginny Sloan... a woman so beautiful, so desirable, she could only happen in dreams... and he wasn't dreaming!

She lay back, then, upon the soft cushions, forcing him to follow. With deft movements, she removed the dress from her hips, tossing it, carelessly, toward the low coffee table.

Only those provocative black panties remained.

Fumbling, he grasped the waistband of the wispy garment, and she helped him, wriggling her hips free of their slight encumbrance. Now, she was completely nude; of course, he had seen her nude, on the stage... but it was not the same. She was his alone, for now, to gaze upon, and his lustful eye took in all of her, the gentle swell of her hips, the tiny waist, the long tapering legs - supple dancer's legs - exciting him, sending slashing erotic sensations knifing through him. His eyes bored into her loins, as he saw her dark-haired mound at the triangle of her thighs, the female furrow of her pussy barely visible there beneath it. His hardened, elongated cock jerked inside his pants, making its bid for freedom, and he could already feel the slippery lubricant oozing out of its slitted head. He hadn't realized, until then, how really aroused he was. She had made him wait almost too long... with all that talk. Damn! He wanted her so damned bad he could taste it! He had to get it into her... quick!... And, he still had all of his clothes on, he realized, as he reached down to open the zipper of his fly.

"Let me help you undress," she suggested.

"O.K... " he said, hoarsely, glancing toward the glass doors that gave onto the long gallery, the beach and the ocean.

She saw his worried look and assured him, "No one can see in from the beach."

Her small, cool hands were fast and efficient; they moved with sure knowledge on his clothing, and he was soon stripped naked, to reveal his hard-muscled body... with his fully erect cock standing out from his hairy loins, massively ample, throbbingly engorged... stiffly alert and ready. God! Was he ready!

"That is something!" she admired, reaching out to fondle the hardness and length of him, her tiny hand not able to encircle the hard shaft of it, completely, as she moved the slack, outer skin back, experimentally, to expose the satiny, blood-red cock-head to her lewd gaze.

Ginny was glad, then, she had agreed to this double seduction. Jim's cock in her hand was every bit as big and virile as Brad's... and she was sure there was going to be deep satisfaction in it for her. She laid back on the cushions, suddenly, pulling Jim Bookman down on top of her. She had to have his magnificent cock in her... working in her cunt to bring her to heights of rapture that she knew could only be attained by her... with an organ of such proud dimensions. God! She was going to enjoy him... to the last inch!

As she pulled him down, cradling him, naturally, between her out-flung thighs, his cock came to rest in the soft, hair-lined slit of her cunt. She captured it, forcing the massive rod to lie huge and thick against her, its pressure seeming to arouse her, instantly, as it lay, there in contact with her throbbing clitoris. Her hips undulated in tiny circles beneath him.

"Do you want to fuck me... Jim?" she asked him.

"Yes!" he gasped, his breath already beginning to come in labored pants.

"Tell me then, damn it! Tell me what you want to do to me!" she demanded.

"I'm going to fuck you, Ginny!" he told her, his strong-fingered hands digging into both her luscious breasts, kneading them like bread dough.

"How do you want to fuck me... darling? Tell me!" she hissed.

"I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight!"

"Yes... you'll fuck me hard... and deep... and long!" she whispered, hoarsely.

"I'll fuck you silly!" he said.

"You'll try to kill me... with that big cock of yours!?"

"I'll try... baby! I'll try!" he said, attempting to recapture her mouth.

"... And... you'll fuck me any way I want it?" she asked, avoiding his searching lips.

"Any way you want it!" he assured.

"Then... do it now!" Ginny moaned deep in her throat. "Shove that big cock in my cunt... and fuck me! Fuck me like you've never fucked a woman before... with everything you've got!"

She welded her lips to his, wildly, at the same time, flexing her legs, raising them to receive him, her hand reaching down between their loins to grip the shaft of his huge, blood-filled prick. Expertly, she guided it between the distended lips of her warmly ready pussy, where she moved the throbbing head of his cock up and down in the moist vestibule, parting the soft, dark hair of her cuntal opening; as she moved it there the heavy foreskin flipped back and forth several times, until he felt his cock expand and grow even harder in her hand. He could wait no longer! He had to get his cock into her tight, little cunt!

With firm, demanding pressure, he bore down on her, flexing his hips to drive it into her.

She felt the strength he exerted and knew that he was ready; she placed the bulbous head of his pulsing cock directly at the opening of her cuntal canal, the tip of it resting just inside. She was ready for him, now.

He drove his thick, heavy cock into her, stoutly, deep and hard, in one prodigious, plunging stroke, putting all the strength of his young, hard-muscled body into it.

"OOOoooooh!" she groaned, beneath him. He felt the elastic, resilience of her vaginal muscle ring give way before his savage onslaught, and it was a satisfying feeling of sheer animal sexuality that surged through him.

His immensely bulky cock was deep in her cuntal passage, the warm, smooth, inner sheath slipping, moistly, along his massive length, clingingly, seeming to clasp and claim him and absorbing him to the root, as his ball-filled sac, swinging below, slapped up against the smooth, full cheeks of her up-turned buttocks. He skewered her, without mercy, and she was pinned there, beneath him, helpless to do anything but take him deep into the very core of her being.

Ginny screamed with the first pain of it, as Jim plumbed the depths of her vagina. He struck bottom, his cock-head flicking past her cervix to nudge, painfully, into the far, back wall of her cuntal cavern. Involuntarily, her hips twisted under him, as she screwed them back and down, into the cushions to escape the sudden, unexpected pain of it. She was surprised that he had gone into her so deeply... surprised and pleased, at the same time. She grimaced, as she was stuffed full of virile cock, but he thrust all the harder into her, in an attempt to shove the last fraction of an inch of his vast prick into the soft pliancy of her cuntal sheath.

He stopped, then, momentarily, to let her abraded vagina adjust to the massive presence of his cock, resting on top of her, dominating her with his animal energy and effectively skewering her to the floor cushions.

Then, she opened her eyes wide, smiling smokily up at him, the initial pain of his savage entrance replaced by the erotic, filling sensation of his mighty cock. She could feel all of him, for the full length; every part of her cunt was filled, and she could feel every contour of his virile prick.

"Oh, God!" she moaned. "You are big... bigger than I thought!... And, you're taking me... just like I wanted you to!"

Jim flexed the still expanding shaft of his cock deep inside her, eliciting, another groan of sheer pleasure from her.

"Oh, that feels wonderful... Jim!" Her hips began to move, rotatingly, under him, then.

They moved first in tiny, undulant circles, teasing and tantalizing him; then, she changed to pole of his cock, as she impaled herself fully on back and forth strokes that gradually increased in length, pushing her hips down into the cushions, forcing withdrawal, only to move forward, again, her moist, pulsing cunt climbing up the thick, massive length of him; finally, she moved with wildly gyrating buttocks, the smoldering need in her blown to the dimensions of a raging furnace in her lustful loins.

Jim was caught in the throes of his own sexual rapture. She was doing the fucking... and he felt the inner fire of her cunt, the wonderful feeling of her warm moistness, clasping and moving on him. It was driving him wild, as the exquisite sensations of it were branded into his mind. Christ! He'd never fucked a woman like Ginny!

He braced himself on knees and elbows above her wildly thrashing body, enjoying the feeling of it, as he allowed her voracious cunt to slither up and down the turgid length of his cock as she would. A couple of times, he bucked forward on her slithering up-stroke, driving the head of his cock almost through the back wall of her vagina. Each time he did, it elicited a mewling moan of pleasure from her gaping lips.

Gradually, then, he began to dominate her, to move with her, at first, then beginning to grind his pelvis into her with real power, his inordinately huge cock moving in and out of her cuntal passage, rhythmically... and she strained back at him, trying to match his vigor, finally matching her movements to his, in perfect counterpoint. Smoothly, he pistoned her with long, deep and smooth strokes, filling her completely on every plunging jab of his cock.

Beneath him, Ginny moaned in ecstasy, welcoming his pounding pelvis, lifting her loins to him, arching her back off the floor to meet his rampaging rut, her legs opening and closing around his waist, fucking back at his plundering prick, as she chanted a litany of sexual surrender.

"Fuck me... hard... long... deep, lover!" she moaned, her teeth clenched tightly together.

Her urgent words bit into him and drove him on to further plunging wildness, fucking into her vibrant cunt with feral madness. He rammed and crammed his cock into her with ever more and more vigor, redoubling his efforts in his attempt to satisfy her insane demands.

Ginny's head wagged from side to side, and her mouth gaped open, her breath coming in choppy gaspings as he went into her deeper, faster and forcefully, filling her cuntal passage, completely, with rigid, unyielding, rock-hard maleness. Savagely, she pulled her knees up and back, solidly against her chest, to expose her needful loins to him, making herself vulnerable and inviting him to plumb the depths of her moist, warmly clasping pussy.

On and on he went, goring her, unmercifully, with his hard-as-horn cock, while she moaned and bucked under him, matching his own wildness with the instincts of sheer animalism.

"Jim... oh, Jim!" she wailed. "It's so good... but I've got to have more of your cock... a different way... a better way!"

He panted above her, his words choked out, "You name it... ! How do you... want it? Just... tell... me...!"

"I want you... to fuck me... the Spanish way... Despunta!" she told him, a strange excitement glowing in her eyes.

"I've never learned... any Spanish... What does it mean?" He was strangely excited, too, as he waited for her to explain the exotic sounding word.

"Pull it out... and let me up!" she said, her voice choked and trembling. "I'll teach you... a new way... to fuck!"

He didn't want to stop... change to something else, right then, but her obvious emotional reaction to her own suggestion stayed him. He stopped, pulled his aching cock out of her and rolled to his side. Quickly, she scrambled up, lithely, to her knees, kneeling on a soft pillow, presenting him a view of her full, luscious buttocks, waggling there, in his face, tantalizingly. He could see the dewy moisture on the slightly spread lips of her soft, darkly hair-lined cunt, the coralline opening exposed... ready for more of his pillaging cock, and, above, in the crevice of her buttocks, the tight, puckered, brownish ring of her anus winked, beckoning lewdly to him.

Jim had already gotten to his knees and was kneeling up behind her, when her shaky voice told him, "Kneel behind me!"

"I'm ahead of you," he told her. "You want it... dog fashion?"

"It's better...!"

He moved into position, behind her, swiftly, his pulsing cock jutting out, impatiently, toward the soft, quivering crevice, as Ginny reached back, between her legs, to grasp the shaft of his involuntarily jerking prick. With sure determination, she guided it to her vaginal opening, where she dipped the blood-inflated cock-head in the viscous well of moisture, lubricating it well; then, she guided the bulbous corona to the crinkled entrance of her tiny anus, smearing the viscous liquid there... to prepare it for penetration. Jim couldn't help his gasp of surprise when he finally understood her intention. She wanted him to fuck her in the ass! He couldn't believe it. The idea jolted his body-mind with thundering waves of erotic sensation. He had never done it, before, but the desire lingered in the back of his mind. Now... this ravishing woman was practically demanding it. Christ! He could hardly breathe; the anticipation of what he was about to do was almost unbearable.

"Spread my backside... with your hands... I'll guide your cock... for you!" she gasped with rising excitement.

Jim reached down to grasp a smooth, full, trembling buttock-cheek in each hand and carefully spread them apart, revealing the vulnerable brown orifice of her tight, flexing rear passage.

"Now... slowly... and carefully... put it right in!" Ginny instructed him, barely breathing the words, her voice all atremble, throaty and low.

With her fingers, she pressed the smooth, pulsing head of his cock against the rubbery nether ring of her anus, and he strained, moving slowly as she had instructed, the constant pressure hurting him, too, slightly, but he didn't care. Nothing would have stopped him. He pushed with increasing, inexorable force. God! It had to go into her! It was tight! he felt a flash of panic. Maybe it wouldn't go... at all!

... Then, with a faint pop, his cock's head slipped into her, and he could feel the tantalizingly elastic muscles of her rear passage claiming him, clasping him with strong pulsations. The tight snugness, yet soft sponginess, clinging tightly around him, produced sensations in him he had never before experienced. His sensitive glans felt as if he were trapped, almost painfully, in the moist warmth of her strongly gripping rectum.

"Wait!" she warned. "Until... it relaxes... for you!"

Reluctantly, he held himself immobile. After what seemed like ages, to him, as the seconds ticked by, he felt the relaxation of her ring of anal muscles begin. It was now becoming comfortably snug. The pain vanished.

"Shove your cock in... all the way... now!" she hissed at him, over her shoulder, as she lowered her chest down to a cushion and swiveled her head to look back at him, her eyes filled with lewd passion.

Flexing his pelvis, Jim pushed harder, using the muscular strength of his legs, and watched with fascination, as the great length and breadth of his cock disappeared, completely, inside her warm, smooth, anal sheath. Instinctively, he paused then, not moving, to allow her back passage to adjust to the unnatural invasion of his cock.

"AAaaugh, now... pull it out... all the way!" The erotic excitement in her voice was mounting higher, yet; she was almost delirious with salacious anticipation.

The shaft of his cock came out of her bottom with a rush, her hand still gripping it, solidly. Then... with trembling but deliberate intent, her fingers guided the lust-inflated head to her moist, clefted cunt-mouth.

"Ram it into my cunt... now!" she commanded.

He did as she bade him... willingly! With obedient zest, he moved forward, burying his turgid, granite-hard cock deep up into the steaming moistness of her throbbing pussy.

"By turns... now! Ginny choked. "One time... in my backside... the next... in my cunt!"

His mind boggled at the erotic prospects. "O.K.! Baby! You asked for it!" he grunted.

Jim didn't need a second invitation or further instruction. He backed his cock out of her vagina, and she guided it to her anal opening, again. This time it slid into her easier. She was relaxed and ready to receive him, and he rammed his thick length deeply into her rectum with wild abandon. She winced and gasped aloud with the acute pleasure-pain of it... that was exactly what she wanted.

Now, he pulled it from her bottom, and she guided it to her vaginal opening, where he plunged his cock deep into the warm, moist sheath of her cunt... all the way to the hilt, his balls slapping up resoundingly into the soft, inner smoothness of her alabaster-white thighs.

The pattern and the rhythm of it was established, quickly, and he began to move, zestfully, in and out of her openings, alternating between her anus and vagina, with long, deeply plundering strokes, backed by his powerful, young body, while she guided him with accuracy in the alternation, screwing her hips back at him, undulantly, to afford deeper penetration of each of her holes.

Ginny, in deep, delirious ecstasy, mewled and gurgled, the sounds, almost animal in nature, coming from deep in her throat, inarticulately, interspersed with sharp, gaspings of pleasure or pain, as his Herculean cock slaved in and out of her cunt and rectum, paying homage to each, in turn.

She was approaching her orgasm, now. Her breath came, fitfully, pantingly, through her mouth, as he raged in and out of her sensation-seared apertures, each slot, in turn, generating its own particular sensations that engulfed and consumed her. There was nothing in the world with which to compare it. She was filled... filled and fulfilled, and she could feel the nearness of her climax, as she spun upward in dizzying spirals of sensation, her rapture building within her almost to the bursting point. His magnificently hardened cock, goring her lustfully, was ravishing her almost beyond endurance. She had to cum... soon... soon!

"Yes! Oh, God... yesssssss! That's wonderful!" she breathed, convulsively, then began to chant in rhythm a sexual litany. "Fuck me... Jim! Fuck my ass! Fuck my cunt! In! Out!

In and out! Fuck me!... Fuck me! Fuckmefuck-mefuckme... Fuck me!"

Faster and faster, she intoned her demands, wanting her climax to come, quick... but, also, wanting it to go on and on forever and ever. Then, she was catapulted into her orgasm, as surging waves of convulsive muscle spasms claimed her body. Vision and hearing blurred. There was no sense of time or place. It was only now! She jerked and bucked under him, her legs scissoring out, wide-spread, as she knelt there, before him, working her buttocks back against his pounding cock to absorb more and more of him in each of her needful openings.

Eerie and unreal, then, she heard her own voice, as from a distance as she screamed out her momentous release.

"AAAAaaaauuuuuggggghhhhh! OOOOoooooh... God! I'm cuuuuuuummmmmmmiiiiiinnnggg! OOOOOoooooaaaauuuuggghh!" she shrilled in sensual, animalistic, orgasmic joy.

As Ginny spasmed and screamed, in her animal-rut position before him, Jim realized that he was near to ejaculative unloading, himself. With hard, taloned hands, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her hard back against him. When, his orgasm had begun to sweep through her body, his big cock had been in her backside. He kept it there.

Kneeling behind her, he moved faster, longer and harder, thrusting into her straining, tightly clenching rear passage with demonic force. Insanely, he ranged into her, the sensations in him growing ever more intense... almost unendurable. It was like nothing else in this world.

He could feel the beginning of his ejaculation, back behind the root of his cock, like a boiling cauldron of hot metal waiting to be extruded through his steel-hard prick that fucked into her like a well-oiled machine. The shaft of his cock was like a piston moving with ever-increasing power in the smooth cylinder of her rectum.

Suddenly, it was there. His sperm-loaded balls began to pump their cargo through him, the jetting action evident the full length of his jerking penis, spewing in hosing spurts of white, viscous semen to splash far up into the moist, warm confines of her throbbing rectum. Spasms of pure goatish pleasure shot through him, in flashing, electric jolts of pure animal eroticism. It shuddered through his body in wave after wave of nerve-tingling sexuality. He came... and came!

Ramming it home to the root in her, he stiffened in final surrender to the delicious pumping of his cock; then, as he held himself immobile, his cock continued to jerk pulsatingly for several more moments. Finally, with a prodigious, soul-searing groan of satiation he collapsed on top of her, she sliding down to lie on the cushions on her stomach, he on her back, prone, his still, hard, throbbing cock absorbed in her back passage.

Ginny, her head turned to the side, under him, whispered hoarsely, "Oh... that was wonderful... just super!"

"My God!" Jim panted, fighting for breath, "I've never... had it... like that... before!"

"You liked it... then?"

"Christ... I feel like I'm pumped dry!" he choked.

"That's only the beginning," she said. "After Brad's had your wife... and you start to really swing with us... "

"Damn! That's right... I almost forgot!" he exclaimed. "But... I still wonder how he'll manage to get her... to cooperate... "

"Oh... he has ways... " she said, mysteriously.

Sitting in the den on a high stool, behind his tripod, the camera focused on the couple on the floor of the living room, Brad Sloan chuckled to himself. Little did Jim Bookman know that the entire scene had been recorded on film, his camera focused through a hidden aperture in the connecting wall. The resulting pictures of his infidelity would be the lever he'd use on Gayle. It had worked before... and it sure as hell could serve again.

There was one thing, for sure: Ginny was really some woman. She'd fucked Jim to a standstill. He'd never known a woman who liked to fuck as much as his wife did... and to enjoy it so thoroughly. Damn! He'd gotten an aching hard-on watching them. He could hardly wait to get Ginny in bed, himself... and he hoped she'd be getting rid of the younger man pretty damned soon. Of course, he could always barge in and make a trio out of it. He knew Ginny'd love that... but this was the wrong stage of the game for that.

There was nothing to do, now, but wait until they were through having their sex fun... then he'd get his.

There were two full rolls of film he'd have to develop and print, later. That was enough. He climbed from the stool and stretched out on the couch to wait, patiently, until Ginny was finished with Jim.

In the living room, Ginny had poured another round of drinks. Together, they stretched out on the floor cushions, and she had allowed her hand to stray to his now flaccid cock.

"Shall I try to get it hard, again?" she asked, smiling lewdly at him.

"Sure... I'm game... " he said, new excitement building in him, already.

"I'll suck it... for you, this time... " she told him, then asked, "Would you like that?"

"You know I would!" he said.

His cock, in her hand, below, jerked up to erect alertness, ready to go... again!

"MMmnnh... " Ginny said. "That's nice!"


CHAPTER EIGHT

Late in the afternoon, Jim returned home to Gayle. He was completely satiated, sexually... and he was exhilarated; he had been treated to what amounted to an orgy... almost.

Ginny's appetite for sex seemed boundless, and he left her with a fuller understanding of her involvement with swapping. She needed more sex than any one man could supply; unless, Brad was superhuman - which he doubted.

He found Gayle preparing their supper, and while she went about her tasks, he explained the job offer and his role as bodyguard and chauffeur for the girls.

"Ginny wants us to come down to the place on the Boulevard, tonight at eight," he told her. "She's going to run you in as an extra... in back... no solos, for now. She said she'd give you some pointers... and you can start training... learning the tricks, tomorrow."

"Do you really think I should do it?" Gayle asked.

"It's money... and both of us'll be working! Maybe, we can start paying off some of our debts!" he reasoned.

Gayle couldn't help but agree. It was settled... but she still had a reservation. "It makes me feel funny... to be taking off my clothes... like that. Somehow, it seems wrong... almost immoral!"

"Morals be damned!" Jim flared. "It's just simple economics. We need the God damned money!" Then, he softened a little. "Anyway... I'll be there! Nothing will happen to you... no one will embarrass you! Understand...?"

"All right... as long as you don't mind... " she told him.

"I don't mind... " The statement was a sort of victory for him; he'd finally convinced her... and in the process placed her in a position where Brad Sloan could get at her. He chortled, secretly, within himself. It also put the whole swapping thing within reach... especially, it would make Ginny available. Damn! She was beautiful, and she'd really turned him on. His thoughts dwelled on her, as he found himself wondering what other sex tricks she knew. He felt as though he had found the original Pandora... except that her box had contained all the blessings of wanton sexuality.

Gayle and Jim walked into Brad Sloan's top-less-bottomless bar just a few minutes to eight, that evening. As they approached the bar, itself, Gayle noticed a too familiar figure behind it: Buck Marcus! She stopped, not wanting to face him.

"What's wrong...?" Jim asked.

"The bartender... i-it's... Mr. Marcus...!" she choked.

Jim took her arm and urged her forward. Ginny was coming to meet them. "He got fired at the apartments," he said. "I suppose this's his new job."

"I know... " she said, shivering.

Jim realized something about Buck Marcus bothered her, but Ginny was there, greeting them with a sparkling smile, wearing another of her fabulous see-through blouses. She invited them to the table with Brad, never revealing for an instant her intense personal interest in the young husband. In the ensuing moments, he couldn't pursue the thing with Gayle about Buck, and it soon escaped him.

Brad greeted them, boomingly, and ordered up drinks for them. When they were seated, drinks before them, watching a petite black girl dancing on the raised stage, he began to explain, in more detail, what Jim's job would entail; he also named a salary figure that pleased him.

"Ginny here'll get Gayle started out right!" he finished, looking at the blonde beauty with hooded, anticipating eyes.

Jim saw his covert, salacious look and felt a moment of doubt about what he was doing.

That feeling was dispelled, instantly, as he became acutely aware of Ginny's thigh pressed up close to his, and her hand tracing lacy patterns of caresses up toward his crotch. He told himself, again, that Gayle was a fully mature woman. In the long reach, it would have to be her decision. That was it... and so be it. He knew what he wanted. His decision had already been made!

The bar owner was standing to his feet, now, still talking, "I've got to run along to the other place. Jim, you bring the girls over there for the ten o'clock show... O.K.?"

"O.K.!" he said, automatically.

Brad was gone. Ginny took over.

"Come along with me, Gayle... and I'll help you get ready," she said, as her hand boldly, massaged his half-mast erection, hidden from Gayle's view by the table.

Gayle and Ginny rose and made their way to the dressing room. Jim waited a few minutes, finished his drink and ambled over to the bar.

"New job for you... eh Buck?" he greeted the older man.

"Yeah," Marcus answered, sourly. "I quit that damned apartment manager's job!"

Jim knew the man was lying, but he didn't challenge it. "Got to you, finally?"

"Yeah, I couldn't take anymore of that crap!" he said, vehemently. "Anyway... I've worked more years as a bartender than I'd care to name."

Buck had wondered why the Bookmans were in the place, especially when Mrs. Sloan, herself, had come to greet them and seat them at their table. He also hadn't missed Gayle's obvious aversion for him, when she had spotted him behind the counter.

Everything seemed to fall into place, for him, when the two women had disappeared into the dressing room. Now, he asked, "Your wife going to be part of the act, here?"

"Yeah... " Jim answered. "She's starting tonight... and I've just been hired as bodyguard!"

The older man gaped. "The hell!"

"That means... we're working for the same boss!" Jim said, meaningfully.

"Yeah... Yeah... I guess that's right... " Buck agreed. "Did you say... you're the bodyguard?"

"That's right... you heard exactly right. I'm the bodyguard!"

Bookman moved away from the bar and settled down at the table, again. If his wife had had some difficulty with Buck Marcus, he could almost guarantee, it would never recur, now. The look of fear in the bartender's eyes had given the man away. There had been something between his wife and the former apartment manager. He was curious. What in hell was it?

In the cramped dressing room, Ginny gave Gayle a few fast pointers for the night's performance. She also provided her with a set of trick, strip clothing.

"We'll get you some of your own, tomorrow... or during the week... " she explained, "maybe, later you'll want to do some special things yourself... every girl develops her own ideas."

"I see... " Gayle was fascinated with the clasps and quick ties that are the strippers' stock-in-trade. She had a flare for clothing design, and ideas flitted through her mind. If she were going to go into this, she might as well go the whole way, she decided.

"The main thing is to make yourself sexy... turn them on!" Ginny explained. "... But, tonight, I don't want you to strip all the way... leave a G-string on, at least... in case there's fuzz out there looking us over!"

"Fuzz...?"

"Cops! We have to stay within the law. Tomorrow... I'll explain what you have to do!"

Gayle was mystified. "I - I didn't know... about the laws... "

"Don't worry about all that, now... just don't take everything off, tonight... O.K.?"

"O.K... " She felt a little doubtful.

"Come on, now... let's get these street clothes off... and get into our working clothes!"

With a feeling of trepidation, Gayle began to disrobe. She asked, shyly, "Am I going on... with you?"

"Yes... but you'll be behind me to the left... Watch me... and you'll pick up some more ideas. Later on, you'll develop your own routines. Gloria and I'll rotate the solos."

"Gloria...?"

"The cute, little black girl dancing, now... "

"Oh... " She had forgotten about her.

Ginny was nude, already. She saw that Gayle was still half-dressed. "Here, let me give you a hand, Gayle... " She stepped near her to help with a balky bra strap. The blonde loveliness of her was revealed, as the lacy garment came off. Ginny standing behind her saw the younger woman's reflection in the full-length mirror.

Stepping out of her panties, Gayle suddenly became aware of the other woman's stare.

Their eyes locked in the mirrored reflection of the two beautiful womanly bodies.

"You're absolutely... lovely!" Ginny gulped, unable to hold it back. Damn! She had said it... and meant it. The Blonde was utterly ravishing... her body almost too perfect with all the curves and mounds in the right places... the right proportions. She hadn't made it with another woman for several months; to be exact, since she and Brad had started their swinging and swapping experiments, which led to their joining a more or less regular club.

Heavens knew she loved it with men... but with a lovely woman... like this, it was simply out of this world. Making love to another girl was so tender... such a delicate, fragile thing. A woman always knew exactly what another woman wanted... and she wondered: Should she... or shouldn't she? God! How could she keep her hands off of her?

"Why... thank you... for the compliment... " Gayle flushed. Thinking she should return the admiration, she said, "You're really something... y-yourself... " Without thinking, Ginny slipped a tiny hand around Gayle, as she stood up close behind her, the twin reflection of the mirror showing both of them, her intention, as she cupped a full, luscious breast to feel the satiny smoothness of the vibrant, alabaster flesh. Her fingers rolled the nipple into a spiked-out cone of puckered, delicate erection.

Gayle gasped and moved away. There was a feeling of revulsion in her. She had never, never experienced an intimacy with another female... but, she didn't want to throw this job away... before she had even started it; after all, Ginny was one of her bosses. What should she do? What could she do... in this case.

"P-Please... Ginny... " she said. "I-I've never... "

"Never made it with another woman...?"

Gayle was being honest. "No... n-never... and I'm really not interested... " she murmured. "My husband... " Ginny understood. She decided not to press; anyway, the set-up was supposed to be for Brad... but damn... wouldn't it be wild to turn this lovely little bitch on to some real girl-girl sex!?" She stepped away, picked up a G-string and began slipping into it. She didn't dare look at Gayle, as she said, "I'm sorry... I got carried away... Please... forget it!"

Forget? Gayle's blush was full-blown. After the initial shock slashed through her, there remained a tingle in her breast... a tingle, she could interpret in only one way: Sexy!

... And, she didn't understand it. Jim always caressed her breasts... kissing and sucking on them, and very seldom, if ever, did it do anything to her - or for her - sexually. Why then, would a single caress... from another woman, generate so much sensation... so instantly? She was confused... and flustered.

"All right," she said. "I - I just don't understand that stuff... " The music had ended. Gloria's performance was over; it was her turn for a rest period.

She came through the curtained doorway, into the dressing room.

"You're on girls!" she said and dropped into a chair. "I'm bushed!" she sighed.

"How's the house, now?" Ginny asked, business-like, now.

"Getting better," Gloria said. "Quite a few more've drifted in... " Then, "This the new one?" she asked, her eyes drifting over Gayle's figure.

"Yes... Gayle... this is Gloria... " Ginny introduced, informally.

They smiled and exchanged greetings. Together, then, Ginny and Gloria helped Gayle to get ready. Within a few moments, she was on the stage with the ravishing brunette, butterflies in her belly, the lights in her eyes and the music was beating, insistently, in her ears.

"Relax, honey... " Ginny grinned at her, her smile friendly, helpful.

"I'll try... " Gayle said, trying a smile of her own.

"O.K... here we go! Turn 'em on... Baby!"

Seated in the audience, composed almost wholly of men, Jim watched the performance with interest. He was amazed at his wife's ability to mimic, following Ginny's lead. There was no doubt about it, both women were equally beautiful. They complemented each other; Gayle's blonde loveliness contrasted with the brunette's smoldering sexuality. Then, as he watched, more and more his attention was focused on Ginny. It was as though he were watching two rival Queens - The Queen of Ice, whose glacial beauty was personified by his wife, Gayle, and the Queen of Fire, who was Ginny Sloan. It was Ginny he chose for the fiery heat of her loins. He knew them both and could make the comparison. Christ!

Did he know the difference! He could hardly wait until the next time he could rummage in her knowing cunt.

Little did he know - or perhaps would never know - the turmoil that was going on inside Gayle's lovely blonde head. She was lost in a welter of conflicting thoughts and emotions, as she went through the motions of her exhibitionistic dance.

What perverse thing was loosed in her? One smoldering, sexy look, one knowing caress from Ginny... and she had been turned into a mass of quivering, sensate flesh. She couldn't possibly be interested in that filthy, girl-girl stuff. She was a married woman wasn't she? Then, why did she feel this way?... And, how was she going to avoid another such encounter? She would be working for - and with - Ginny. There would be more opportunities for the brunette beauty to thrust herself upon her. How should she handle it?

... And why had Ginny made such an overture in the first place? She didn't know any answers. She could only flounder in the shifting quicksands of her quandary.

Another pair of eyes in the bar watched with lewd lust. Buck Marcus focused his full attention on Gayle Bookman, as he stood behind the bar, perfunctorily performing his duties with the alcoholic libations. This was a whole hell of a lot better than watching her in her bathroom... and the very fact that she had become one of Sloan's dancers began to give him some highly erotic ideas. Maybe... just maybe, there'd be a chance for him, now... And, you could bet that he'd take advantage of the smallest opportunity presented to him.

Then, too, in his mind, since she was an exotic stripper now, he equated her performance with prostitution. The little bitch was throwing it around wasn't she? He'd make damn sure a little of that came his way.

... And, he couldn't forget that belt in the balls she had given him. God! He thought he'd been ruined for sure! His testicles were still sore from it. He was also damned sure the she-bitch had been responsible for his losing his job as apartment manager. The real estate people had pussy-footed around with reasons why he was being let go: His work hadn't been satisfactory, collections from tenants were in arrears, maintenance work hadn't been carried out... there had been complaints from tenants about him; everything except the real reason was expounded... and he had been fired, summarily... But, Buck knew the reason. Gayle Bookman had reported him to the main office. That's why things had happened so fast. Maybe it was best, though, he thought as he ogled her on the stage.


CHAPTER NINE

There were two more performances, that night, in each of the Sloan's other places. Jim drove the three women around in his own car, waiting for them each time and nursing only a beer in each place. One thing Brad had insisted upon was sobriety and alertness. That was a small price to pay; he didn't mind it all, for he was not, by nature a heavy drinker.

Toward the middle of the second session, something happened to Gayle... something she could never have explained... even to herself. She began to feel a certain exhilaration, a stimulation, as it were, in the act of taking her clothes off, showing off her voluptuous body to a room packed with strange men. She realized that she was having an effect on them; their remarks, the applause, the salacious admiration of her body they expressed did something to her. Perhaps it was the knowledge that each man felt a lust for her... a lust that couldn't be consummated, because she was untouchable; then, too, there was a feeling of power. It was a nebulous thing, but it was there. She could, by displaying her body, arouse them, sexually, and if she had wanted to do so... she could have taken her choice of a hundred different men. She flushed with that thought. She didn't want any other man but Jim... her husband, but the idea was there; almost any one of those men could become a lover... and there was no doubt but to a man, they each imagined themselves her lover. The bar was no doubt but to a man, they each imagined themselves her lover. The bar was charged with sex... and she felt it as an intangible spirit in the very air of the smoke-filled room. She was a love object... a sex symbol... albeit an unapproachable, untouchable one. The prospect excited her.

The thing she didn't realize, until later, was that the sexually supercharged atmosphere was gradually arousing her own desire. She found herself looking forward to bed-time fun with Jim. Funny, though, she thought; she'd never felt such high anticipation, before... and she'd never ever really thought of sex as fun. It was something she had to do with her husband... a sort of wifely duty to be gotten out of the way and done with, for the sake of marital harmony.

Gloria and Gayle were taking a rest break, while Ginny did a solo number. They sat in the tiny, cramped, dressing room, and Gayle was grateful for the time out.

"I'm really feeling the tiredness," she said.

Gloria's dark face broke into a grin, "Yeah... this's harder work than most people realize..." she observed, then went on, "You're doing all right... for your first time out!"

"Thanks, Gloria... but I get scared... all tied up in knots!"

"That's normal, so don't worry about it," the black girl assured her. "... But, for whatever it's worth, honey... and I'm sort of reading between the lines... watch out for the stinger with the Sloans!"

Gayle was completely mystified. "I d-don't understand... "

"Well... has Ginny made a pass at that handsome husband of yours?"

"Why... no... I don't think so... "

"Then... how about you... has she tried to... you know... make it with you?"

Gayle's quick flush was answer enough. "I thought so... " Gloria said, her pretty face solemn, now. "Just before I came in... right?"

Gayle could only nod her positive affirmation. She couldn't trust her voice.

"That can only mean one thing... Brad Sloan is interested in you. He's the stinger!"

"Oh, no?"

"I'm afraid that's the story... Gayle, so be forewarned... because I've already been that route... believe me!"

"But... I need the job... and... "

"Honey... " Gloria's face was soft with sympathy. "I'm not going to tell you what to do... I'm only telling you what to expect. You'll have to decide for yourself... what you want to do... when the time comes!"

The grueling night's work was ended; they were back in the place on the Boulevard.

Wearily, the three women dressed in their street clothes, ready to go home.

As they were leaving the bar at about 1:30 a.m. all three husbands were there. Brad claimed Ginny. Likewise, Gloria's husband, Oren Johnson, a handsome, strapping black man who stood well over six feet tall was there. Gayle couldn't help but notice the coolness that existed among them. There was a distant, polite undercurrent she couldn't quite fathom. Of course, Jim was there to take Gayle home, and just as they were breaking up to go their own ways, Ginny told Gayle, "We'll get together tomorrow at two... my place... O.K.?"

"All right... " Gayle agreed, dully. "Where is it...?"

Ginny got a pad and ball-point pen from behind the bar. Writing down the address on the small slip of paper, she tore it off and gave it to Gayle. "It's down on the beach... " Gayle stuffed it in her purse. Jim watched, somewhat bemused. So... it was to be the beach house!? He tried to visualize how it might happen: Brad would be there... and Ginny would be called away... leaving them alone... the rest of it up to Brad... to do with her as he pleased. It was a pretty nice set-up!

The three couples left the bar, got into their respective cars and drove away. The last show was over; it was almost closing time, and only three or four patrons remained in the bar, talking and passing time. The manager was arranging the tables and chairs, the three waitresses were sitting down resting their aching feet, while behind the bar Buck Marcus was cleaning up to get ready for the following day's business.

He had overheard the conversation between Ginny Sloan and Gayle Bookman... and he was very much interested. He retrieved the pad Ginny had left on the bar and removed the top sheet. It sure as hell wouldn't take much doing to figure out that address. A person never could tell... something like that might come in handy, some day. Ginny Sloan was an interesting piece, too... and she could really throw it around. The way Jim Bookman was all eyes for her made him wonder: Maybe she's throwing it around... and that young stud's getting some of it; at least, it sure as hell looked that way... and his stupid wife hasn't even smelled the coffee, yet! Christ! He had a horrible ache in his balls... and Audrey sure as hell wasn't going to change, he supposed. That meant he'd have to furnish his own relief... again!

In the car, on their way home, Gayle snuggled up close to Jim and asked, "How'd I do, honey...?"

Jim, in a reverie of his own, concerning Ginny... her dancing... her sex performance, with him, that afternoon, mumbled, "Fine... just fine... you're learning... real fast... "

"You don't sound like you're very enthusiastic," she pouted.

"Sorry... guess I'm a little tired... but you're doing real well... what more do you want me to say?" he countered.

"Well... did I... turn you on?"

"Yeah... yeah... you sure did... " he said off-handedly.

His answer, somehow, was not satisfactory. She was, herself, stimulated... and she rather expected him to be, also... as he usually was. His seeming lack of interest was a rebuff to her.

She decided to try, again, more directly, even though it was against her nature to do so.

"Jim...?" she asked, shyly. "Did my dancing... t-turn you on enough... to want to...?"

"To what?" He was only half listening.

"You know... make love... to me...?"

Ginny really had drained him... and he was tired; he should have been... she had provided him with more climaxes, in succession, than he had ever had. After a good night's sleep, he'd be ready, again... but tonight? Hell... he doubted whether he'd be able to get an erection that'd function for him!... And, Gayle was hot, it seemed, for some action in bed! He twisted, uncomfortably; He sure as hell couldn't tell her: Sorry, Doll... I'm fucked out! I made it with Ginny four times, this afternoon! No! He couldn't say that!

"It's been a pretty hard day, darling... what do you say we wait until tomorrow morning... I'm all pooped out!" he said, weakly.

Gayle knew she had lost. She remembered a thing he had said to her, quite often, and she trotted it out, snidely, "It still takes two... t-to tango... doesn't it...?"

"It sure as hell does!" he flared, feeling the jibe she was giving back to him. "... And, it takes two to fuck, too!"

"Well... " she defended, "I was only... t-trying to let you know I - I was feeling all sexy, tonight "And I'm not having any, tonight... thank you!" he grunted.

The remainder of the drive home was made in icy silence.

To say that Gayle was disappointed would beg the question. She was hurt, deeply. Her stimulation had been so acute, she was sure that Jim would be overjoyed... and more than willing to make love to her. He was always so eager, all the time, and to have him flatly refuse her the first time she had ever been aroused enough to ask him was more than she could bear. She stifled a sob, telling herself, she wouldn't cry. She knew a man who was too tired couldn't perform. Jim had said he was... so she'd just have to accept it.

Perhaps in the morning... if she still felt like it... and if he wanted to... they could indulge themselves... But God! It was tonight she felt like it! It was tonight she felt wanton and naughty. It was tonight she wanted it... needed it! Then, an objective thought came to her: She was on the other side of the fence, now. Is this how Jim felt the times when she had refused him?

As soon as they entered their apartment, Jim mumbled something about it's being too damned late to shower, made for the bedroom, undressed and crawled into their big bed.

Within a very few minutes he was sound asleep.

Gayle prepared for bed, quickly, racing through her shower and brushing her hair in record time. There was still the aching need in her and a faint hope that, somehow, she would be able to arouse Jim to the point where he would respond... with an erect penis. The idea of having to arouse him. was a new one. How should she go about it?

Putting on her prettiest, most sheer nightgown, she looked down at her sleeping husband, undecided as to whether she should try to awaken him. She had no idea of what reaction to expect from him, and her resolve began to fade.

She crawled into bed and lay for some moments, trying to compose herself for sleep. It was no use. She was excited. She needed! More than anything else, she wanted!

Brazenly - for her - she slid over close to Jim, whose back was turned to her, cupping her body to his, snuggling close. The warm masculine odor of him, the warmth of his body and her need drove her to do something she had never before dared. Her hand slithered over his bare hip and down to his loins. She found the flaccid tube of his penis, took it into her hand and squeezed and milked at it. There was no response in it; it was sexually lifeless.

Jim stirred in his sleep.

His voice came to her, thickly. "I told you... it's no use!" he mumbled. "There's no starch in my cock... tonight!" Roughly, he moved away from her to his edge of the bed. "Good night... darling!" It was a flat dismissal... a complete denial. His limp penis was pulled from her grasping hand, like a child having a forbidden toy taken away.

Reluctantly, she rolled away, to her side of the bed. There was nothing else she could do, and there was a great, empty void in her... a vacuum that had to be filled.

Here was her lovely body, taut, tuned to a high, erotic level, the excitement still throbbing in her... and there was to be nothing!

The scene in the dressing room flashed, vividly, through her memory; Ginny's tiny, knowing hand reached around her to tease at her breast, while their eyes had locked in the mirrored reflection. It had generated such an exquisite sensation in her, at that moment... just that single, light touch that had felt so sexy... and forbidden. She tried to blot out the memory... to reject it as something alien and unwanted, but it persisted. What if, she mused... what if she had not turned away?

Unconsciously, her own hands moved in under the sheer, shorty nightgown. They cupped her own, full, lush, aching breasts, felt the smooth, creamy skin and the distension of them that made them seem even fuller, more rounded. Then, she discovered that her nipples were hard and spiky, and. she rolled them between her fingers, producing that gentle pulsing sensation in them... a sensation that seemed to spread its salacious warmth through her body. It was suffused, at first, quite general in her, warming her belly... until the full force of it hit her between the legs with searing brutality. It was sexy, sexual... and persistent. God! What was she doing... to herself? Everything in her told her to stop it, now!... But, the desires of her flesh were stronger than early teachings and taboos.

With the wonder of new discovery, her hands drifted down across the flat plane of her belly to the golden down of her triangle to caress the warm, vibrant flesh. It felt so good... but so naughty, and, again, the ghost of her infantile psyche, drummed into, preached at, so often so long ago, told her no.

She withdrew her hands and allowed them to wander over her body, caressing herself, narcissistically, until, drawn like a powerful magnet, they returned to her loins to massage there gently, her palm kneading her mound, generally, while her fingers slipped down between her thighs to caress the lips of her pussy. Beside her, she heard the steady, even breathing of her husband as he slept soundly, and she felt a disquieting resentment that he could sleep so easily while she was sleepless... aroused and frustrated. Did she dare to do it? She never had, before... but this burning, unrequited need in her, a need she had never felt so strongly, in all her life, drove her on... and on.

Unconsciously - almost uncontrollably - a finger slipped into the fiery, liquid dew of her cunt-mouth. She rotated her finger just inside the vestibule of her vagina... and, Oh... it felt so good. Now, she couldn't stop herself. That same moistened finger moved up to find the tumid shaft of her clitoris. Her touch there was electric, the instant sensations, lewd and salacious, arced through her. She rubbed, Oh, God... she had to do it. She couldn't help herself... the pleasure was too great!

Faster, then, more purposeful, she massaged the short, hardened length of her sex bud, finally rolling her finger, insanely across the sensate head. Exquisitely sexual ecstasy captured her and held her enthralled. She couldn't believe she was making it happen to herself as surging keenings of full sexual arousal charged through her sensitive nerve endings.

... Then, she knew. She had to have more. She had to have something in her cunt! Her husband's big cock is what she wanted... but that was impossible. Even if she were to awaken him, now, with an instantaneous erection... it would be too late. With a silent, inward, sob, an involuntary catch in her breath, she plunged a finger into the searing, liquid depths of her vagina and moved it in and out, attempting to imitate a plundering rampaging cock. It wasn't enough. She used two fingers... three... and finally all four of her fingers held together in a sort of cone, as she plunged them in and out, wildly, her hips moving up and down, in matching counterpoint to her driving hand.

Suddenly, her orgasm broke over her like a surf. The earth tipped and stood still for a split second while she climaxed. With voluntary show of will, she bit back her outcry of rapture, choosing to let it wash over her in silence. Dear God . : . she had actually done it to herself. She had brought herself to full climax... and the joy of it blotted out the guilt she thought she should have felt. Why, she asked herself, why had it happened this way... and not while she lay beneath Jim with his ample cock in her? And she came... and came, again! AAAaaauuugghhhhh!


CHAPTER TEN

The next afternoon, Gayle drove down to the beach town address Ginny Sloan had written down for her. She was full of trepidation, not knowing exactly what was going to transpire; ostensibly, of course she was going there for further instruction from Ginny. There was also something, she knew, about some trick of covering the genital area, in order to remain within the letter of the law. She had been observant enough to notice that, somehow, both Gloria, the cute little black dancer, and Ginny didn't seem to look just right, but she hadn't been able to figure out what it was that seemed different.

Another thing that bothered her was the offhand way in which Jim had handed her the keys to their car when she was ready to leave. He had tossed them to her with a smirk on his face and said something in a mumble that sounded like: "Enjoy it... honey!"

When she had professed not understanding, he shrugged and said, "Have fun... that's all! It was innocuous enough... but there was a certain innuendo there, in his first statement, that held a hidden meaning. Could he have meant enjoy it... with Ginny? Did he have any ideas about her... and Ginny? Could he possibly have guessed that Ginny had made a lesbian overture to her? She decided it was impossible for him to know that.

Did it have anything to do with last night... when she had used her own hand to bring herself to orgasm? Had he heard her... sensed it, somehow? She had to discard that idea, too... but just what was the meaning? There had to be something to it. What was it?

Ginny met her with a nonchalant smile, opening the door wide to invite her in and offering a drink. Gayle consented to a weak martini and sat down primly on the big couch to admire the panoramic view of the beach and ocean, while Ginny mixed and chattered.

When the drinks were finished, Ginny put her glass down and said, "Well... we've got to get you matched and fitted for a hairpiece."

Gayle was mystified. "A hairpiece... did you say?"

"Yes... that's how we stay legal... come on into the bedroom and I'll show you."

They walked down the short hallway to the master bedroom, Ginny continuing her explanation. "The law says the female genitals have to be covered... so we cover them... so we don't get busted every few days... "

"I don't get it... it looks like complete nakedness to me!

"It isn't... that's what the hairpiece does... it covers up... and still looks like complete nudity."

It finally was clear to Gayle. "You mean... false hair is put on... between your legs?"

"That's it... now if you'll get stripped down... I'll see if I can fix you up with one!"

Shyly, she began to undress, while Ginny opened a bureau drawer and rummaged in it. Gayle saw that it contained what looked like wigs for dolls, each one in a small plastic bag.

Ginny looked professionally at the golden, downy hair of Gayle's triangle and selected a near matching color. She went on, "Some of the girls shave off their own hair... but it isn't necessary."

"That could be a lot of bother... couldn't it?"

"Yes... it sure could... the only advantage is that an awful lot of men like a shaved pussy... for their fun!" Ginny observed.

Gayle's face colored. Ginny ignored it and continued, "Stretch out on the bed... and I'll show you how it works!"

The blonde was completely nude, now. She did as Ginny directed, not daring to comment on the other woman's candid observation.

Ginny leaned over her, holding the wispy, blonde wiglet against her loins to survey the color match. "It's a little dark... but later on... if you want to... you can have one made to match exactly! Then, business-like, she added, "Spread those lovely thighs of yours... and I'll show you how it's put on."

Obediently, she spread her thighs apart to reveal the long, gentle cleft of her pussy, sparsely hair-ringed with fleecy, curling gold filaments. Using a theatrical gum she applied the hairpiece, expertly, covering the sex-furrow, completely... so that to the casual observer it looked natural and naked. "Now... except to a guy who's looking directly up your legs... it'll look like you're nude!" Ginny said.

"Is it easy to take off... t-too...?" Gayle asked, thinking that part of it could be uncomfortable.

"No... you just use some of this solvent... then wash yourself off... it's real easy!

Ginny assured her. "Here... I'll show you... " Deftly, she applied solvent to a ball of cotton and loosened the artificial hair cover; then stepping to the bathroom, she returned with a washcloth she had dipped in hot water. With gentle hands she removed the traces of the adhesive from the silky golden cunt hair. Damn! What a temptation, she thought. Brad should have arrived, already, with some cockamamie story that would send her off... leaving Gayle alone in the house with Brad. That was the arrangement... but where was he?

The gentle ministrations with the warm cloth after the evaporative cooling effect of the solvent felt voluptuous to Gayle; actually, it felt sexy... as the memory of last night flashed through her mind, when she had stroked herself to orgasm... Then, down below, Ginny was finished washing off the theatrical gum... and her fingers moved, lightly, caressingly, in the slit of her cunt, moving up to the nib of her clitoris, where with sure knowledge, she teased it in tiny circles.

Gayle gasped, audibly, and murmured, "If you're f-finished... I-I'll get dressed... now 99 "You're a lovely woman... Gayle!" Ginny breathed, half to herself, as her own nerve-endings sang, keening for joy, with the anticipation of coming pleasures. It was almost more than she could bear.

"N-No... please... don't... " Gayle choked out. She moved to get up from the bed. She couldn't believe what was happening to her, as next Ginny was on the bed with her, lying down beside her. Gayle turned to her side and tried to slither to the other side of the bed to escape. She couldn't... she just couldn't let this happen to her!

Female arms captured her, held her, and a hand was running, shiveringly, down her back to her waist, continuing on down, over her hips and buttocks, repeatedly. Ginny's throaty voice was in her ear. "Don't fight it... Gayle... I'll make it good for you!"

"... But, I-I don't... want to be... like this," The other woman's hand soothed her. The gentleness of the knowing caress felt so good, so restful, sort of tingly and nice, and there was no animalistic pawing and kneading of the kind Jim inflicted upon her.

Now, she felt the electric contact as Ginny curled her body tight against her, her breasts encased in a filmy bra pressing into her naked back, the warmth of her belly in close contact, all the way down to where her heated mound pressed in against the smooth, rounded firmness of her buttocks. Then, a tiny, well-manicured hand worked its way over her rib cage until it clasped a full, satiny breast with gentle knowledge, and as she had, the night before, her fingers worked at the coral-hued nipple, causing it to spike out hard and sensate.

There was, now in Gayle, that same burning desire this woman had brought her, as they stood in that tiny dressing room, and she was fully aware of what was happening to her. It felt good, but her reasoning mind would not allow it to happen.

Her cry was muffled, strangled in her throat and she attempted, once again, to rise, to leave that bed. She just couldn't stay there! "N-No... I can't d-do it... I can't let this... h-hap-pen... "

"Hush, darling... " Ginny whispered hoarsely in her ear, "just let me show you... what you've been missing...!"

The older, more experienced brunette, turned the blonde beauty to face her, clamping her own lithe, dancer's body to Gayle's, her full, sensate breasts mashed in tight to the younger girl's naked, sensitive mounds, her salacious mouth seeking and finding the lightly lipsticked mouth, pressing against her lips in a passionate kiss, her tongue sliding out, slowly, gradually, to run in sensuous circles, rimming her lips with sensation producing lubricity, without undue demand; meanwhile, her hands busily tantalized Gayle's luscious body, swarming over her perfectly sculpted contours like a swarm of hungry insects, transmitting her own fiery need, the while setting up uncontrollable, slashing urges that seared deeply into the blonde, hair-covered loins of the love-starved woman.

Gayle had never received a woman's kiss before, and at first contact, she had felt revulsion and loathing. After several pounding heart-beats Gayle responded. She began to feel a certain thrill of her own, generated by the femaleness of the other woman's body.

Tentatively, she put forth a timid hand and felt a bare shoulder. She had not been aware of it, before. Ginny had thrown off her blouse just before lying down on the bed beside her.

Now, Ginny reached down and unhooked a clasp between the cups of her bra, releasing the full abundance of her velvety smooth and equally shapely breasts.

"Here they are... honey... " Ginny crooned.

Hesitantly, but unable to resist, Gayle reached out to touch and fondle the other woman's breasts, watching as the nipples coned up to erection. Then, she felt a shudder pass through Ginny's body, and she realized that her handling of the brunette beauty's breasts had been the cause of it. The other's sign of pleasure confirmed it. That shuddering sigh keened through her, with meaning, as she realized she, too, felt exactly the same thing... in the same way.

With a trembling moan, Gayle sought the other woman's mouth. Their lips welded together, tongues moved in and out, hungrily, and hands were busy on each other's bodies; Ginny with sure knowledge of experience, Gayle experimenting, exploring here and there, and the fires in their loins raged higher and higher, out of control. Now, the neophyte moaned with a desire she could not surmount. It was a whine of complete helplessness, a groan of utter despair, and she tried, once more, to fight against her feral cravings with rational thought. She broke the moist contact of their mouths, pulling away and muttering across the short, intervening distance, trying not to look into the smoldering eyes of the other woman.

"I've n-never cheated on... Jim... " she stumbled.

"What...?" Her tinkling laugh rang in the room. "You'd call this cheating on him?"

"Well... yes "

"It's not the same... darling! This is girl-girl love!" she exclaimed. "... But do you think he's thinking about cheating... or not cheating... when he shoves it into another woman?"

Gayle didn't know... and she wasn't sure of whether or not Jim had been untrue to her. He had threatened it... but she hoped it was only that, a threat. "I-I don't know... " she admitted.

"... But... it's the principle... a-and... "

"To hell with principle... and morals... if that's what you were going to say! This is woman love... and there's a difference!"

"... But... Jim... " she began.

"Would you really like to know about Jim...?" Ginny asked, her eyes blazing.

"What d-do you mean...?"

"I mean... do you know what he was doing yesterday afternoon?"

"N-No... not really... " Gayle trembled. "He was supposed t-to be talking to your husband... a-about our jobs... "

"Wrong!" Ginny spat. "He was here... with me! He came off at least four times in me!"

"Wh-What...?"

"He fucked me four times... yesterday!"

"Oh, no!" Gayle gasped in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" Ginny smirked. "Does that put things in a different light?"

Gayle wanted to disbelieve what she had heard, but Jim's lack of interest in sex, last night, seemed to her, on the surface to be incriminating evidence in favor of Ginny's monstrous claim. She desperately wanted to withhold judgment... but she couldn't understand Ginny's interest in her... another woman... if she were also an adulteress with Jim.

"I-It might... " Gayle hedged, "But... if you and J-Jim... were...?" She stopped, not knowing how to put it into words.

"We were doing it... because he wanted me... and I wanted him... that's simple to understand isn't it?" Ginny said.

"I don't m-mean that... Why me... n-now?"

"Oh... because I'm that way!" the brunette smiled, archly. "I'm A.C.-D.C... I swing either way... whenever I can get it!"

"What do you m-mean...?"

"I make it with men... and women, both!"

"Oh!"

Suddenly, Ginny sat up and quickly stripped herself of her remaining clothing. "There... that's better!"

Almost savagely, then, the brunette turned to re-capture Gayle's mouth, her naked, upper leg moving in between the blonde's white, tapering thighs, spreading them until their legs intertwined and their loins met and mingled, the two contrasting colors nestling close, the almost black one grinding in against the blonde with feral abandon.

Reaching over, boldly, Ginny pulled the rounded fullness of Gayle's smooth, white buttocks in tight, then her hand moved down between them to the golden cleft, she dipped a finger into the moist, coralline opening. She found it amply moist, the exudate from the Bartholin glands telling her of the state of the younger woman's arousal. Then, the finger moved on to find the erect, unhooded clitoris. It was hard, throbbing and sensate. Ginny stroked the erect bud, ever so gently, to stoke the fires of Gayle's passion to white hot heat.

Then Gayle felt her lesbian lover begin to move, slithering down her body, rolling her gently to her back, her mouth busy as she kissed her throbbing sensate breasts, then began to suck them, moving the nipples in and out of her mouth, quickly, while she maintained a constant sucking pressure. The highly erotic sensations keened through the younger woman, flashing through her nerve synapses with the speed of light to stab into her genitals with merciless insistence. Against her will, helpless to control them, her hips began to move in steady, countering rhythm to the sinuous, stroking finger... and she knew she was lost, that she would succumb... just as she had surrendered to her own stroking hand, last night.

"Oh... God...!" she shuddered, helplessly.

Now, she felt those avid, woman's lips moving down, down, over her ribs, down across her flat belly, the agile tongue dipping into her naval, tantalizingly... and then, gentle but insistent hands spread her thighs, exposing her palpitatingly needful cunt to the other woman's lewd gaze. She was acutely aware that Ginny had placed herself between her wide-spread thighs, and that those knowing hands moved on the smooth, softly velvet flesh of her inner thighs; then, those same hands caressed and tantalized... at the same time as they teased and massaged at the furrow of her womanhood.

The mouth kissing her thighs, her hips, her abdomen, then the inner sides of her thighs, working up, gradually, to the peak where her pulsating cunt thirsted, drove Gayle wild with the tantalizing anticipation. She knew, now, it would happen, and she was powerless to stop it.

Just before Ginny's mouth reached her pussy, a disquieting thought charged through her brain: Somehow, she knew in that instant, she would be changed, transformed... that the act she now wanted, even though she knew in her rational mind that it was wrong, would be a turning point in her life. In the consummation of that act, would she become the kind of woman Ginny was, preying on men... and women, for a sexual satisfaction of insatiable dimensions. Would she be turned into a lesbian, perhaps, turning away from Jim... and men, completely? Somehow, the prospect seemed dismal... shameful!

... Then, it was there! Ginny's probing, licking, lovely and tantalizing tongue was there... on her clitoris, sending the most wonderfully erotic sensations to her brain, and Gayle knew that there was never in this world - or the next, either - a more rapturously voluptuous ecstasy... but, again, that computer brain, loaded with its moralizing, its taboos and its fears, interfered. She cried out, "N-No! Please... no! Oh, God! N-No! Uughhh!"

The working mouth paused, and she didn't want it to stop. Words came to her as from a distance. She heard, but did not hear, as her senses reeled. It was Ginny's voice from down there, between her legs. "Relax, Gayle Baby... and enjoy it!"

"I-I can't... I can't let you!" she whined. "I-It's wrong! Unnatural!"

"... But you like it!" Ginny countered, speaking absolute truth. She dropped her mouth, again, to the seething, coralline flesh of her pulsing cunt, her tongue probing, this time, into the liquid depths of her searing cuntal opening, moving in and out to the rhythm already set by Gayle's undulant, grinding hips. The flicking tongue swooped in and out with measured regularity, almost in the same manner as a man's cock fucks in and out of a ready cunt.

Gayle couldn't stand it any longer. She had to have it. If she didn't cum, she'd go mad.

Throwing all reason to the winds, conscious only of the electric sensations that arced in her naked, upturned loins, Gayle cried out, piteously, "Oh... yesss! Oh, God... yesssssss!"

The lustfully lapping mouth paused. "What do you want... Baby Doll? You want me to keep this up... until you cum?" Ginny asked her.

"Yeeeeeeesssssssss!"

"I've got a better idea, honey... we'll cum together!"

"H-How? T-Tell me how?" Gayle was getting desperate.

"Have you ever eaten a woman's cunt before?"

"N-No... never!"

"Well... now's the time! You just do to me what I've been doing to you... that's all there is to it!"

Swiftly, lithely, Ginny shifted her position, swinging herself around to straddle Gayle's face, her own head, falling into place, naturally, over the young, tender loins of the golden beauty she had seduced.

Gayle looked up, startled, into the moist warmth of Ginny Sloan's cunt where it hung, only bare inches over her face, the brown, puckery ring of her tiny anus winking down at her above it... and she knew what she must do... for this other woman. She was revulsed for a moment... but she had to do it... now! Another one of those completely shattering thoughts ricocheted around inside her skull. Jim had been shoving his big cock into this very same hole, yesterday afternoon, according to Ginny's boast. God! She couldn't do it!

She just could not bring herself to do it. No! Never! Her whole being rejected it.

The two women were in the sixty-nine position. Gayle had heard about it; it was the position of mutual oral-genital sex. Never, in her life, would Gayle have believed that she would ever find herself in that position. Oh, God... how had she ever gotten herself into this?

With a swivel-hipped, undulant wriggle, Ginny's vibrant pussy came writhing down against Gayle's face, as at the same time, the brunette lowered her head, again to the throbbingly ready cunt, below.

Gayle's first impulse was to scream; she felt suffocated... trapped, but the contact of the experienced woman's tongue with the quivering bud of her clitoris elicited a long moan of sexual surrender from deep in her chest. She gasped, and her mouth gaped open, as her face nuzzled up into the moist, female furrow above her. Unthinking, her tongue probed out, experimentally, to find the shaft of the miniature phallus in its fold of darkly hair-ringed flesh that gyrated down against her.

To her surprise, the slightly pungent flavor of the woman's pussy on her tongue was not completely distasteful, and she became a little more bold and dexterous, as she licked and sucked, following the example Ginny had given her. Now, she stopped licking, occasionally, to stab her pert, pink tongue directly into the vaginal opening; finally, she established a rhythmic movement matched to Ginny's licking and sucking of her own cunt, there below.

Together, then, they spiraled, mounting higher and higher towards the heights of orgasmic release, as tongues licked and slashed in and out of throbbing cunts, hands grasped and caressed, hips ground and gyrated and mouths gasped out little mewls and groans of mutual ecstasy.

Gayle found herself mouthing words. "OOoooh! That's so good! Don't stop... ever! Oh, Ginny... lick me good!"

Dimly, she heard the muffled counterpoint from down between her thighs. "Eat me, darling! OOOOoooh! Eat my cunt!"

Thus, intertwined, head to loins, mutually giving and receiving exquisitely erotic sensations, the two women came to the apogee of sexual climax.

It began with the long, shuddering convulsions of her body. The long awaited release came to Gayle, causing her whole body to jerk, spasmodically, as wave after breaking wave of welcome orgasm spread through her body-mind. It was a symphonic rhapsody of sensations that swept over her, through her, leaving her satiated and relaxed. Little did she recognize that it was her own voice screaming, AAAAaaaauuuugghhh! Oh, God! IIIH'mmmm cuuuummmmiiiinnggg!"

Above her, meanwhile, Ginny thrust her loins down, grindingly, into the younger woman's face with wild abandon, her voice coming to her through eons of time and space, announcing the arrival of her moment of rapture. "Oh! Oh! OOoohh! I'm cumming... too! It's almost here! AAAAAaaaaaauuuuuggggghhh!"

Ginny collapsed, rolling from her topmost position to stretch out, voluptuously, beside Gayle, clasping her, desperately, to her, in her arms, and clamping her avid mouth to Gayle's in a long, drawn-out, passionate kiss, as the last of the tiny waves of orgasm was drained from them, finally.

"That was heavenly... just super!" Ginny gasped.

Gayle could only moan in half-conscious agreement. She could only offer her lips to the other woman, again, clinging to her... confused... but sexually satisfied. It was strange but true... and for the moment, she didn't question it.

Her ideas of sexual satisfaction, as it turned out, were as nothing compared to the greed - that was the only word for it, she decided - of her woman lover, Ginny.

After a very few moments, the brunette had gotten up from the bed, delved into a bureau drawer and returned with a vibrator, which she plugged into a convenient, electrical outlet; the device itself she strapped to the back of her hand, then, smiling down at Gayle, she said, "... And, now... for a taste of something different... I'm going to give you a massage!"

"MMmnn, that'll feel nice... " Gayle murmured, languidly.

"Nicer than you think, darling!" There was a certain lewdness in Ginny's smile that Gayle didn't catch. It was nice!

It was not until the vibrating hand began to move, exhilaratingly, over her abdomen that she began to have the faintest inkling of how the vibrator worked... of the effect it would have on her. She wanted to object... but then, it was on her cunt, the oscillating vibrations transmitting slashing sensations of pleasure through her as Ginny expertly manipulated her instantly hard clitoris.

"Oh, my God! My Gooooddddd!" Gayle moaned, as she came to another soaring climax, within a few short moments, and she felt completely helpless to stop the action... or her reaction. It was marvelous, and she spiraled and soared to multiple orgasm, again... and again! Then, it was Gayle's turn to do the honors, and she watched in amazement as the brunette writhed in sexual agony, until she, too, came and came and came, mouthing obscenities, as she climaxed, almost endlessly.

... But, Ginny wasn't through, yet; her greediness for more and more sexual pleasures, led her, after they had relaxed for a few minutes, to show Gayle yet another device guaranteed to produce sexual joy. She got it out of her drawer and showed it to the younger woman, proudly. It was a realistic replica of a man's erect cock, a huge plastic phallus, somewhat longer and thicker than her husband, Jim's, Gayle thought, as she looked at it with awe mixed with curiosity.

Gayle couldn't help gasping, "I-It's so big... and mean looking!... And, so real...!"

"This'll give you more of a charge... than any man's cock ever will!" Ginny boasted.

She noticed the electric power cord attached to the handle. "Does that th-thing have a vibrator in it... too?"

"Yes... it does!" Her eyes were dreamy. "It's my favorite dildo... it's imported... "

"Dildo...?"

"That's what it's called... a dildo!" Ginny answered. "How'd you like it... if you used the hand vibrator on me... and I did you with this... then you'd know why it's my favorite...?"

"I-I don't know... " Gayle was doubtful.

The doorbell rang, insistently. Ginny wanted to ignore it, but it was past time for Brad to show up. Maybe he had lost his keys and was ringing to be admitted. She certainly wasn't expecting anyone else. Reluctantly, she shrugged into a robe and headed for the front door, mumbling, "Hell... I'll have to see who it is! I'll be right back, honey!"


CHAPTER ELEVEN

Brad Sloan fumed. He was angry and frustrated. Last night, at the place on the boulevard, during the last show, one of his other fill-in girls had been arrested, and he had been trying all morning and half the afternoon to arrange bail for her. It was the slowness that irked him. Sometimes, he even thought it was a form of harassment, when they made him waste so much valuable time. Christ! He was supposed to be down at the beach house.

Ginny had everything all set-up to have Gayle Bookman there. He looked at his watch.

Damn! he was already an hour late, and it'd take another twenty minutes to finish up his business with the police.

He mused a moment about the situation. If he knew Ginny, she would be right in there, herself. In a way, he couldn't blame her. He knew she swung both ways... and it'd been several months since she'd cut loose with another woman. His attention to her sexual needs, in addition to their swinging swap club had kept her happy and satisfied; of that he was glad. The only question in his mind was whether or not the Bookman woman would be willing to make it with Ginny. If she hadn't, of course, the svelte blonde might have bugged out... then there wouldn't be much chance, again, for him to get at her. Well... he finally decided... it was really up to Ginny to do what she thought best.

Finally, his business was finished and he sent the embarrassed dancer home in a cab.

Ordinarily, he would have taken her home, himself... there was, sometimes, some side benefits when he did, but, today, he decided to forgo the temptation.

Thinking he ought to kick himself for a damned fool, Jim Bookman was having some second thoughts about the whole situation. Just because he wanted a piece of ass... he might have placed Gayle into some sort of predicament she wouldn't be able to handle.

He recognized her sexual inexperience... her inhibited approach to sex. She just wasn't up on all the possibilities. He had, himself, suggested some of them to his wife, but she had, out of hand, rejected most of them. Christ! He'd never forced her to do some of the far out things; of course, he had insisted on some regular sex, and that had always been part of their problem. Gayle had never quite been able to comprehend the importance of sex to him... or her... But, what if she were forced to do something? Maybe Brad was a sadist who would torture and beat her to get his way. He could be... couldn't he? Jim knew damned well it was certainly a possibility. Sadism, he knew was latent in almost everybody... even himself.

Then, there was Ginny. She was about as close to being a nympho as anyone he ever knew... or read about. Her sex appetites were almost insatiable. He didn't doubt the possibility of her being able to switch-hit... swing both ways, with men... or women.

Damn! How would Gayle be able to cope with a lesbian seduction? She'd be like a lamb led to slaughter. How would it affect her? Would she be able to take it in stride... or what... ?

The gnawing worry that he might have made a mistake forced him to act, finally. He went out to the carport and uncovered his old motorcycle, tinkered with it a while and finally coaxed it to sputtering life. He rode off... hoping it would get him there.

As Ginny opened the door a few inches to peer out, fully expecting to see her husband, Brad, or at worst, a door-to-door salesman, Buck Marcus shouldered his way through the door and closed it, firmly, behind him.

"What do you want?" Ginny gasped.

His eyes were all over her. "You!" he grunted... Unless that Bookman woman's here... if she is I'll settle for her!"

"You're stupid!" she grated. "Breaking in here... into my home, like this!"

"Maybe... maybe not... but here I am! What're you going to do about it!?" It was a challenge.

"I'll have you arrested!" She strode purposefully toward the telephone, trying not to show her fright.

"I just cut the wires!" he gloated, advancing on her.

Ginny picked up the phone. It was dead. She had to do something! With desperate force she threw the instrument at him. He dodged it easily and captured her in his strong arms, his lips clamping to her mouth and a hard, rough hand going inside her robe to capture a satiny smooth breast, while below, she felt the prod of his hard, throbbingly erect cock against her naked abdomen. There was no doubt in her mind of his intention. He was rape-minded. Rape! She should have been frightened out of her wits, but, somehow, there was a sexual thrill for her, in the thought of it... the delicious possibility of being taken against her will... to be ravished... fucked by an almost complete stranger, who would overpower her... make her do it... make her do any... and everything! Ohh!

She, suddenly, jerked her mouth away from his devouring lips, twisting her body, lithely, in an attempt to escape from him. "Keep your filthy hands off of me!" she husked, throatily, at him, grinding her crotch into him, at the same time.

Marcus rose to the bait. "A real tigress!" he grunted, whirling her around and grasping an arm, which he twisted, painfully up behind her back. "Well... I'm just the one to tame you... you little bitch!"

"Let me go... or I'll scream!" she threatened.

Buck clamped a hand to her mouth and grated in her ear. "You do... and I'll break your neck! Now... let's go to your bedroom!" He prodded her toward the hallway, keeping a firm hold on her arm, his other hand still clamped over her mouth.

Instinct told Ginny she should lead this old goat of a would-be rapist away from Gayle, who was still in the master bedroom, so she stopped at the door of the guest room, to the left, hoping he would take her into that room.

"This it?" he hissed.

She nodded her head in affirmation.

"Open the door!"

She reached with her free hand to do his bidding. She also switched on the light, then he shoved her sprawling onto the bed, unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops.

Doubling the leather strap in his hand, he grunted, "One peep out of you and I'll use this... understand?"

Ginny was becoming a little frightened, now. This old goat meant business. There was still a certain thrill for her... but she didn't want to be beaten. Some of these crazy sadists didn't know when to stop. She looked up at him with dark, liquid and smoldering eyes.

"You don't h-have to beat me... " she choked out, trying to muster a tear or two, to soften him, a little.

"All right... just don't try anything funny, Baby Doll... because I'm going to fuck you silly!" He began to undress, rapidly, and stood over her, completely nude, within a few moments, his erect cock spearing out, menacingly. He leered down at her, lewdly. "Damn me... but I'm going to enjoy this!"

Gayle had been left lying on the big bed in the master bedroom, when Ginny had gone to answer the door. The monstrous dildo still lay on the bed where the brunette had dropped it. Idly, she picked it up, contemplating its use. Dear God! Could she ever bring herself to use something like that? Then, she flushed remembering the things she had done already... things she thought she would never do... But, this dildo... this artificial penis... how could she consider it? Remembering herself, last night, as she had masturbated, lying in bed beside her husband... when she had finally used her fingers to bring herself to climax, she knew, that if she had had this plastic phallus in her hands... she would have used it. It was truth, and she had to face it.

She toyed with it for a few moments, thinking that Ginny was taking a long time to get rid of a salesman... or whatever. Then, curious, she plugged the device in to the wall outlet and flipped the switch. It hummed. She touched the simulated cockhead to her vaginal opening. The slight vibration felt so tingly and tantalizing, she shoved it in a little ways... and she felt its full power for a moment. OOOoooh! It was too much to contemplate using it to completion. Her little experience with the hand vibrator told her that with the vibrations buried deep up in her vagina a woman's orgasms would be multiplied infinitely... Then, she heard a commotion... some kind of scuffle going on out in the living room, and she jerked the dildo out of her now throbbing cunt and switched it off.

She rose from the bed and went to the door. She opened it a crack to peek out. There was nothing to be seen or heard. Reaching into Ginny's closet, she selected a robe, shrugged into it and ventured out into the hallway. Ginny was nowhere to be seen. She heard a voice... a man's voice... but where was Ginny? What had happened to her? She walked a few more steps down the hallway. She heard it plainly, then: "All right... just don't try anything funny, Baby Doll... because I'm going to fuck you silly!"

It didn't sound like love-talk. She decided that it sounded like Ginny was being forced to... Rape! The word ricocheted into her brain. If she could see... make sure... she could call the police! Maybe they would be able to catch him in the act... but she'd have to get down the hallway to the phone!

In the backwash of her memory, the sound of that voice began to clamor for recognition.

She crept closer. The sound seemed to be coming from the guest bedroom. She was almost even with the door now. It was slightly, ajar. Then: "Damn me... but I'm really going to enjoy this!" Her mind clicked. It was Buck Marcus! She gasped, involuntarily. "N-No! Oh... no!"

Inside the bedroom, Marcus heard it. "Who's here?" he grated down at Ginny.

"N-Nobody!" she snapped. "Just me!"

"Like hell! It must be the Bookman woman!" he concluded.

Turning, he leaped for the door, tore it open and bounded into the hallway. Gayle faced him there, terror in her face. She fled, running back toward the master bedroom. Buck caught her in three steps, shoved her into the room and sent her careening toward the bed. "It's you I wanted... anyway!" he rasped.

Gayle cringed back away from him, her eyes widened with horror, as she saw his massively hardened penis and read the intention in his lewd smile. She stumbled when her knees hit the. edge of the bed, and sprawled, off balance. He was on her, instantly, and bore her back onto the bed, hissing, "Don't scream bitch... because you haven't got a chance, if you do!"

"N-No... please...?" she sobbed, her tears starting quickly into her eyes.

He tore the robe from her body, in shreds. "I'm going to fuck you... this time, Baby!" he told her, levering her thighs apart and wedging his hips between the smooth, whitely tapering columns.

Ginny walked into the bedroom, saw what he was doing and said, "You crazy bastard... you just left a sure thing! If you're so horny... why don't you crawl off of her... and take on a woman who can handle you!?" She was hoping her ploy would detract him.

"I'll take care of you, afterward!" he grated. "Right now... this little bitch is-going to get fucked until she can't walk straight!"

"... And, meanwhile I can walk next door and call the cops! They'll put you away for ten years... for forcible rape!"

"Like crap you'll call the cops!" he expostulated. "Because you wouldn't want to miss any of the fun! If I read things right around here... you've already been having quite a party... right?"

Gayle struggled beneath him, only half listening to the talk between them and not understanding it anyway. All she knew was she didn't want this man to do to her what he intended to do.

"Let me u-up...!" she whined.

CRACK!

His open hand slashed across her face. "Shut up, Bitch... or there'll be more! I ought to give you the full treatment anyway... for that kick in the balls you gave me!"

Ginny's laugh was brittle, as she taunted, "My what a big brave man... slapping women around, like that!"

Gayle's hand went to her face, in disbelief of having been struck by the monster wedged between her thighs. She sobbed with both pain and fear.

"Stick around for your turn!" he sneered at Ginny. "... Or maybe you'd like to be in on the action, too?... Maybe she could suck you off... while I'm fucking her... I'll bet you'd like that... wouldn't you?" Buck taunted.

While all of this was going on, Buck's long and thick cock rode like a log into the pulsating furrow of Gayle's sensate cunt... and as much as she didn't want it... no matter how she fought it... her aroused body began to respond to the tantalizing sexual sensations the warmly moist contact generated in her.

Her now well-taught nerve endings responded, naturally, to him, and her hips began to writhe and undulate up to the source of those wonderfully erotic, sensual feelings. She couldn't help it... couldn't control it.

"Maybe... " Ginny said, noting Gayle's arousal and knowing that now there would be no turning him aside. The blonde was ready to take him... whether she knew it or not.

Then Marcus looked down at Gayle beneath him and said, sneeringly, "You are a hot little bitch... all ready for it... aren't you?"

"N-No... I-I... "

"We'll see damn you!" he leered at her, as he raised his hips up a little. "Reach down... and put it in!"

"No!" she sobbed.

"You want another one across the face?"

"Oh... G-God! No."

"Then, put my cock in that cute little cunt of yours!"

She was unable to stop herself. Uncontrollably, doing his bidding, reluctantly, but with a certain perverse anticipation, she reached down and gripped the warm, pulsing shaft of his mammoth cock, knowing dimly, as she guided it to her own wildly palpitating cuntal opening that, in doing so, she was sealing her own fate; in that instant, she would become an adulteress. The scene with Ginny flitted through her mind, followed by an imagined scene, as her husband, Jim, had committed adultery with the same woman. Was she any better... or worse? Her marriage was already endangered. Would it really make any difference, now? So many mind-boggling things had happened to her she was too confused to sort out her thoughts, rationally.

"Quit stalling!" Buck Marcus snarled at her.

She did it. With a shuddering sigh, she obeyed him... and the dictates of her sensate, aroused body. Her hand moved, directing the blood-inflated cock-head to her own demanding cunt-mouth; she worked it in tiny circles, gradually introducing the tip of it into the viscously lubricated vestibule of her vagina, hardly able to believe that she was actually doing something so foreign to everything she once believed.

Ginny was an interested onlooker. There was a certain wistfulness in her... a wish that she could be the one taking that beautifully hardened cock into her own greedily needful cunt. He had been right, of course... she was willing to take sex whenever - and wherever - she found it... but she was being left out. Perhaps, she could join in to make it a threesome.

Then, she remembered a snatch of the previous conversation. She got the idea that Marcus had tried something with the blonde, earlier, and had gotten a knee in the testicles for his trouble. An idea began to form in her mind. She was being spurned... after thinking she would be able to enjoy a man's forcing her... raping her, as it were. There was a perverse joy she had experienced at the prospect of it... and now, she felt somewhat frustrated... and revengeful. As the old saw goes: Hell hath no fury... and she had been discarded! Damn! What could she do? It had to be something devastating... but not necessarily hurtful.

Spotting her dildo lying on the side of the bed, she picked it up, noting that Gayle had already plugged it into the wall outlet. It gave her an idea. The thing might come in handy!

There, beneath him, Gayle was transfixed; Buck flexed his hips and sent the massive length and breadth of his cock plunging deep into the throbbing, coral moistness of her cuntal passage, in one long, soaring stab. With a satisfied grunt, he felt the smooth knob of his cock flick past her womb's neck to slam, forcefully, into the far back wall of her vaginal cavern. As he pinned her, momentarily, to the soft bed, he said, "Remember, now, Baby Doll... nobody could ever say you got fucked against your will! You put it in... yourself!"

Wantonly, she thought: So...? Why should she care? It was done! She was being unfaithful to Jim... had been, in reality, from the time she had reached for his cock to guide it to her needful, demanding pussy. Then, she surrendered herself to the marvelous sensations arching, electrically, in her loins, as she undulated her hips in tiny circles under him, realizing that she could feel every inch of his length along the clinging sheath of her cunt. She might as well enjoy it! How much she had changed... so many of her ideas, her values, had been displaced, disarranged. God! Could she ever sort herself out... after this?

She heard his voice grating in her ear. What was he saying?

"You want to be fucked, now... don't you?" He expanded his cock, deep in her belly, sending out urgent signals that spelled out sex, joy, ecstasy, rapture... and orgasm. Her body-mind received them and she couldn't believe it was herself who answered his lewd question.

"Y-Yes... " she responded with abject simplicity.

"Then beg for it... bitch!" His voice carried an edge of commanding triumph in it.

She looked up into his goatish, aging face, leering down at her, not understanding his demand.

"I-I want you t-to do it... to me... " she managed.

He was not satisfied. He wanted ultimate humiliation.

"That's not good enough! Beg me to fuck you!"

Ginny stepped into the breach; she stretched out cat-like beside the younger woman and murmured, "He wants you to use all the dirty, four-letter words... " she explained. "Some guys get turned on more... when a woman says those things!"

"Oh... I see... b-but I can't!"

"You can, if you want to... it's only words like fuck, cock and cunt... " Ginny told her.

Buck waited. He flexed his cock deep inside her several times more. "How about it... bitch?" he grated.

Gayle couldn't stand any more tantalization. She choked out the words he wanted to hear... words that would get her what she wanted. "Oh, God... Buck! Fuck me... quick!

Fuck me with that big cock of yours! I need it!" she whined, amazed that she could say them, without stumbling... or stuttering.

"Where?" he prompted.

"In my... cunt! Fuck my cunt with your big cock!" she said, clearly, her hips beginning to buck up against him, uncontrollably.

Then, he withdrew, almost all the way from her clasping cuntal sheath, leaving only the head of his cock inside, before slamming it home to the root in her, again, his hairy balls slapping up hard against her raised buttocks. Then, thinking only of his own pleasure, he began to jab and stab into her tender vagina, absolutely without mercy. He was a rutting animal, who had been denied until the end of his season.

As he stroked into her, Gayle rose to meet him, countering him and absorbing him, and she felt the filling and fulfilling power of his great cock in her. She needed it... wanted it, and she tried to match him with her own wanton wildness. Under other circumstances, she would have fought him to a standstill... but the long session with Ginny had aroused her... almost, it seemed, prepared her, for this very encounter.

Ginny, watching with fascination, her own libido keening for yet another release, toyed with the dildo she held in her hand. She could use it on herself, of course... and she was sorely tempted to do so... or she could join in, make it a threesome by straddling Gayle's face, enjoying the sensation of cunnilingus, again, while this old goat fucked away at the blonde beauty beneath him.

... Or - she gloated with the idea - she could use it for another purpose. She shrugged out of her robe, as she sat up in the bed, and tossed it aside. Damn! She'd never thought of that! It'd teach the old bastard a lesson he should have learned about women years ago.

Shifting herself to a position behind Buck, she knelt there and watched his flexing buttocks, as he drove his big cock into Gayle's now demanding cunt. She could see the stretched cunt-lips absorbing him, the glistening length of his shaft fucking in and out of the younger woman's tortured vagina.

She had decided to do it. Reaching out, she caressed his slaving buttocks with cool hands.

"What the hell?" he growled back over his shoulder at her.

"I'm just going to help you cum... real good... " Ginny cooed back at him, dragging a finger through the crease of his buttocks to tantalize his anus. "Some men like to have somebody play with their backsides... while they're fucking... would you like that... too?"

"I don't... know... " he panted. "What do you have in mind?"

"Putting a finger... or two in you... It'll really make you pop hard!" she explained.

"All right... but don't you dare hurt me!" he agreed.

"Don't worry... you'll love it!"

Ginny reached out to her dresser for a tube of water soluble lubricant and spread some on her fingers. She teased at the puckered opening for a moment before thrusting in one finger. He stiffened for a moment with a prodigious grunt. Then, as his rectum adjusted to it, he continued his feral pumping into Gayle's heated loins.

"Say!" he exclaimed. "That feels good... different!"

"I knew you'd like it, Buck!" Ginny said.

Carefully, then, she worked in two fingers in, now... " she told him, then asked, "You want me to try for three?"

Recklessly, he answered, "Yeah... as long as you don't tear my asshole open!"

"It'll stretch... more than you realize... " she assured.

It was a new and strange sensation he experienced, heightening the eroticism of his coition, and he redoubled his pounding efforts, as his cock drove, soaringly, into the young and tender cunt beneath him, his cock expanding, signaling his coming release.

Gayle was in rapture. She had never known it could be like this, having a man bring her to such heights of sensation. She loathed the man who was doing it to her... but she loved what he was doing. It was pure sex... in its rawest state. A flashing thought overjoyed her.

Now, that she was aroused, knew what her own sexuality was, she would be better able to satisfy Jim... and herself. Maybe she was on the threshold of a new life and the rejuvenation of their marriage.

Smiling slyly, Ginny prepared for her coup. She'd bring the old goat to the most roaring climax he had ever had. He was all stretched out and ready; he was screwing his rectum back on three of her tiny fingers, now. With a slight trembling of her other hand she reached out for the oversized dildo, jerked her fingers from his flexing anus, and, with one swift motion, jabbed the artificial cock deep into his backside.

"OOooooowwwww!" he yelled. "What the hell...?"

Ginny pushed hard, shoving it to the hilt, and turned on the switch. The vibrations of the dildo, inside the spongy lining of his rectum and against the sensitive prostate gland sent him into instant spasms of ejaculation... and he came and came... endlessly!

He writhed under the torturing instrument. "Turn it off... ! Please... turn it off! OOOOooooohhhhh!" he begged.


CHAPTER TWELVE

Brad Sloan had burned up the freeways and the streets to get to his beach house.

Fortunately, for him, he hadn't been so flagrant as to pick up police pursuit and a consequent speeding ticket, getting slowed down, in the process.

He swung his car into the carport underneath the house and bounded up the back stairs.

Coming up the narrow alley from the other direction, Jim Bookman saw him coming and turned his back to light a cigarette. He was afoot, having parked his motorcycle a half block away behind a car he had recognized, immediately, as belonging to Buck Marcus.

Christ! What was he doing in this neighborhood? He was a little scared to contemplate the possibilities. What if he was... ? He couldn't bring himself to answer that what if.

He saw his car, now, drawn up close to the fence where Gayle had parked it. Ginny's car and now Brad's car filled the carport. That meant the people inside the house were: Gayle, Ginny and Brad. The question mark was Buck Marcus... but he wouldn't be surprised to find him there, for he was sure, now, he would enter the house... uninvited, to assuage his own curiosity as to what was going on in there.

Cautiously, watching and listening with great care, he walked to the rear stairway, up which he had seen Brad hurry, hoping he would find the door at the top, evidently leading to the kitchen, left open. Brad had been in such a rush he might have forgotten to close and lock it. For the benefit of possibly curious neighbors, he did not hesitate any longer but mounted the stairs, boldly, as though he belonged there. At the landing he reached for the door, turned the knob, pulled it toward him and found it open. He stepped into the kitchen and stood still, listening. Now that he was inside, he decided to take it in easy stages. There was no point in barging in on something... unless he knew for sure what it was. After all... maybe he was worried, unnecessarily... and Gayle was making out all right... or being made! So far there was nothing to be heard; there was no obvious activity. They must be in the back bedroom, he decided and tip-toed out into the dining area to listen.

Brad had found a strange tableau when he burst into his bedroom. Ginny had her big dildo rammed up a man's rectum; the man had been fucking Gayle, but now he was reduced to a blubbering nothing, as he reached back in an attempt to pull the artificial, vibrating cock out of his backside, begging at the same time to have it turned off.

Beneath the man, he saw that Gayle Bookman writhed in sexual agony, hanging on the brink of orgasm but unable to cum.

"Turn it off... and pull it out, Ginny!" he snapped.

His wife turned her head, saw him and obeyed. She turned the switch off and yanked the plastic cock from the man's tortured backside. "Brad!" Ginny gasped. "I'm glad you're here... finally!"

The man, cradled between Gayle's legs, rolled from her to his back groaning, loudly, and Brad saw that it was Buck Marcus, the new bartender he had hired only yesterday.

"Marcus... ! ? What the hell are you doing here?"

Buck recognized the voice of his employer. Hell! He'd just lost another job. He played it cool with a lie. "The girls invited me up for some fun... is all!"

"That's a lie!" Ginny flared. "He invited himself in!"

From the bed there was a long, drawn-out moan. "Oh... God! It was Gayle. She had been left almost on the verge of orgasm. Now, she was clawing at her loins, with a pitiful moan of frustration.

Brad began stripping off his clothing, his cock coming to instant erection. Far be it from him to let a woman go unfulfilled. Ginny helped him. She knew her husband's intention and agreed with it. It was, to some extent, her fault. She had been too intent on a more or less sadistic revenge against Buck.

"Get your ass oft the bed, Buck!" Brad ordered.

Abjectly, he moved to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, his cock now completely flaccid, and the bartender wondered whether he'd ever get it up, again, he felt so drained.

Then, softly, to Gayle, Brad said, "Hang on for a second or two... I'll take care of you!"

For the first time, then, Gayle was aware of his presence. She saw him, standing nude, now, just starting to lower himself to the bed, his hardened cock spearing out, bulkily, from his muscular loins. Her eyes locked greedily on his throbbing shaft. Oh! That's exactly what she needed! "OOooh... Brad... ! Are you... going t-to fuck me... now?"

Lowering himself between her wide-spread legs, he reached down to guide his ready cock directly into the mouth of her direly needful cunt. He knew she would cum within moments, and there was no need for preparations or niceties. She needed to be fucked... now!... And, he did... with a right good will!

"You know I am... honey," he crooned to her, something in her dazed helplessness spurring him to swift action. Smoothly, he punched his solidly massive cock home into the warm, clasping depths of her moist pussy, knowing that, in her present state of arousal, she would climax, immediately; then, he could settle down to some very enjoyable fucking with this lovely, young blonde. Damn! He realized he was pretty worked up. He'd been thinking about this - about her - for hours, and even as fast as he'd driven to get here, it seemed like the trip had taken ages.

With smooth animal power, Brad moved in her, his big cock booming up into her cuntal passage to fulfill and finish for her what had already been started. Beneath him, Gayle writhed and bucked up against him, her orgasm beginning to come to her in convulsive muscle spasms. Her face contorted in agony of sexual tension, as she came.

"AAAAAaaaaauuuuugggghhhhh!" she screamed. "I'm cumming! Fuck me... hard! OOOOooooohhhh!"

Ginny watched, smiling, as her husband brought the young blonde to soaring release.

"Beautiful...!" she murmured, feeling vicarious, searing need slash through her own loins. She looked over at Buck Marcus, who also watched the couple on the bed, and she saw that his penis hung limp and flaccid between his legs, uselessly. There wasn't any hope there, she decided. Leaning over toward him, she said, none too gently, "Why don't you get your clothes on... and buzz off!"

"You bitch!" he grated. "You practically drained me dry... I thought I'd never stop coming!"

He reached down and gripped his flaccid prick. "... It won't get hard... again... either!"

"Quit complaining... you'll be all right by tomorrow... anyway that's probably the hardest you ever came!" she said. "And I'm serious about your leaving... Brad won't be as nice about it!"

Jim, standing in the hallway, now, heard the scream of passionate release from the bedroom and moved close to the door to listen. It was standing slightly open. He gave it a push and was able to see and hear all that was going on in the room.

Brad was between his wife Gayle's legs, her eyes were closed and she was panting with the aftermath of her orgasm. He could see that little tremors still washed over her, delicately.

Ginny was talking to Buck Marcus, and he got the idea she was telling him to leave. He looked drawn... beaten, and he wondered what had happened to the man. There was no reason, yet, for him to make his presence known, for now Brad was speaking.

The big bar-owner rested, easily, on top of Gayle. He twisted his head to address Marcus.

"I don't know what the hell you're doing here... Ginny says you weren't invited... so take her advice and get the hell out of here. You can pick up your pay, tomorrow!" he rumbled, then added, "... And, don't show your face in any of my places... or I'll have you in court... understand?"

Buck Marcus understood, only too well. He knew he was being let off easy. "My clothes are in the other bedroom... " he whined.

"Get them... and get lost!" Brad snapped.

"All right... I'm going... " He headed for the doorway, saw Jim Bookman standing there and sidled through it not daring to look at him. He scuttled into the other bedroom like a scared rabbit.

Jim, bemused, watched him go... then, Ginny saw him standing in the hallway. "Oh!" she gasped, instant joy spreading over her face. "Jim!" She scrambled off the bed, dashed across the bedroom and flung herself into his arms, her naked loins grinding, dancingly, up against his already hardened cock, inside his pants. The scene in the bedroom, naked bodies, the obvious sexuality, had aroused him.

Ginny's mouth sought his, her tongue probing into his mouth, her body plastering itself tightly to him, communicating her need to him. Finally, breathlessly, the kiss was broken, and she led him toward the bed, her hands working at his clothing. He had to know about Buck Marcus, first, even in the face of his rising anticipation.

"What's with Buck Marcus?" he asked, growlingly, "He didn't hurt either of you... I hope?"

"No... we'll tell you about it, later... " Ginny breathed. "Right now... I want a taste of that big cock... of yours!"

Now, Gayle realized it was Jim, who was in the room, his clothes coming off, as both he and Ginny worked at them. She still lay under Brad, her legs wide-spread, his massive, hardened cock buried deeply up inside her sensate cunt, where he had been expanding it, rhythmically, tantalizingly, in a promise of more action to come. Unconsciously, she responded, the muscles of her pulsing vagina clasping and unclasping around his thick cock. "Jim...?" she gasped, her face flushing. "Wh-Where... what...?" She was embarrassed, chagrined; wishing she could sink through the mattress, out of sight, she struggled, guiltily, to writhe herself free of Brad's heavy body. "Oh, God... l-let me up!" she begged.

Brad held her immobile and snapped, "Stay right where you are, Baby... while I get you all straightened out... O.K.?"

She subsided, sobbing, "It's J-Jim... my h-husband...!"

"I know... " he soothed. "Now listen... I know that he and Ginny had a little fucking session, yesterday... and I don't mind... do you understand that?"

"I-I suppose... so... " It was true, then, she thought. Ginny hadn't been lying... or putting her on... for her own advantage, after all. She would have to accept it as a fact.

He went on, patiently, "... And Ginny... she just watched me as I fucked you... and brought you to the orgasm you needed... and she didn't mind... either... " Then, she remembered. She had been so aroused, so needful... all she could think about was her frustrated release... and she had taken Brad, without question, accepting his plunging cock to bring her to that wonderfully complete but delayed orgasm... Now, she had to accept the fact that she had shamelessly asked him for it and Ginny had watched.

Then, it was with Ginny's permission! Oh! It was all so hard to understand.

"She... l-let us do it...?" she asked. "But... J-Jim...?"

"All right... he's the only one lift!" Brad twisted his head to look over at Jim, who was now completely naked, standing near the bed... and Ginny was just kneeling down before him reaching out for the other man's spearing cock. "How about it... Jim? What do you say?"

"It's all right with me... I was just worried Gayle might get hurt... somehow."

Gayle heard her husband, but she wasn't ready to believe it, yet. "H-How... can all of you say it's all right... wh-when it's so wrong...?"

There was a silence. Jim decided to carry on. "Did you enjoy it... darling?" he asked his wife. "Be honest... now!"

Gayle turned her head to look at him; Ginny was holding his hardened shaft in one hand, while she licked the blood-engorged head of his cock, her other hand was hefting and fondling his heavy scrotal sac. There was a dreamy, faraway look in the brunettes eyes.

This was the same woman, now using the same luscious mouth on her husband... the same tongue that had brought her such pleasure, and buried deep in her still throbbing and rapidly readying cunt was Ginny's husband's long, hard cock. It was so complicated... but she had enjoyed it. She had to be that honest with herself... and with them.

"Y-Yes... " Her simple, honest and straightforward answer fell on three sets of expectant ears.

"O.K.!" Brad grinned. "That's all we needed... What we're doing is making a swinging swap... that's mutually agreeable!"

Ginny, who had been listening, even while she had been busily engaged in fellating Jim, paused, momentarily, and said, "I agree!"

Gayle's husband reached down and lifted Ginny to her feet, then pushed her gently back onto the bed. Deftly, her thighs spread to receive him, and he came down between the white, tapering columns, she grasping and guiding his cock's head to her moistly ready cuntal opening. As with a rush, he thrust his pulsating cock to the hilt in her Jim said, "I'm all for it!"

Ginny gasped with pleasure as his heavy balls slapped in tight against her upturned buttocks, then, she looked across the short space, into Gayle's eyes and said, smilingly, "I'm ready... to be fucked by your husband... Are you ready for mine to do the same...?"

Uncontrollably, Gayle's loins gyrated, undulatingly, up against Brad's pelvis, her cunt moving in tiny circles around his cock, as he pinned her to the mattress, his rhythmically expanding shaft inside her clinging, clasping vagina, sending arching sensations slicing through her, again, and she knew that she, too, was ready. Now, Brad's hands were exploring her body, cupping and kneading her breasts, his fingers teasing her berry-like nipples into erect cones of sensate flesh.

"Yes!" she said. "I'm ready!"

"God... let's fuck!" Ginny said. "Come on, Jim! Fuck me... just as hard as you did... yesterday!"

"Don't worry, Baby... you've got me all worked up to it!" Jim grunted, moving in her already, with long, smooth strokes. "You can cum... as many times... as you want to!" he added.

Fascinated, Gayle watched her husband as he fucked Ginny. She hadn't known until then what she would feel. There should be jealousy, she told herself, but somehow that was missing. Was it because it was a mutual thing... the agreement? She was in the same position... being fucked by the other woman's husband. Did that make it all right?

Suddenly, she knew it did. She could do it v... without jealousy... or guilt! Thank God!

Brad was talking to her, now. He asked, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

She knew her response, the litany, from memory, now.

"Oh, yes!" she gasped. "I want you to fuck me... just as hard as you can! Shove your big cock in my cunt... and fuck me so I'll cum and cum... and keep cumming!"

Suddenly, she knew: She had made a breakthrough to understanding her own sexual nature... of her needs, her wants, for indeed, she did want... everything, now.

Then, Brad began to stroke in and out of her, his powerful body driving his solidly hard, more than ample cock, lustfully, and she felt the beginning spiral of full sexual arousal in her, again.

There was little need for talk, as the two couples moved closer and closer to the summit of release, the bed punished almost beyond endurance, under them, groaning with the weight of the writhing, copulating pairs... and there were the sounds of flesh on flesh, of laboring lungs and the moans and mewls of rising passion.

It was Ginny who reached the heights of her rapture, first, Bucking under Gayle's husband, convulsively and emitting her howl of passionate release. "I I'mmm cuuuuummmmmmiiiiiinnng! AAAAaaaaauuugggghhhh! Fuck!"

Jim plunged into Ginny's wildly clasping cunt for several more pelvis-jarring, cunt-bottoming strokes, before he, too, came to spewing ejaculative orgasm, his hot, white sperm shooting from him in wild, convulsive spurts. With a loud groan of pleasure, he collapsed on top of her, aware that his wife, Gayle, lying beneath Brad, was fucking back at the other man's punishing cock with feral vigor, her face a study of raw passion.

Damn! This wasn't the wife he knew. It was almost like seeing her as a new woman... and he knew, then, that she must, indeed, be changed... into a sexual wanton. That's what he'd always wanted her to be, and it took something like this to do it. To say he was pleased would be a gross understatement. He was overjoyed. If she'd only been fucking him like that all the time they'd been married, there'd never have been any problems.

Then, he saw her spasm, under Brad's masterful, driving cock... watched as she came to her release, her face beautifully transformed as the agonizing tension was displaced by the relaxing euphoria of orgasm, and she screamed out her ecstatic rapture in a primal scream of triumph. "OOOoooh! My God! Fuck me... hard... long... deep! I'm... I'm going to... cum! NooooowwwwwWWW! AAAaaaauuugggghhh!"

Her eyes closed and delicate shivers washed over her, as above, Brad Sloan, continued to piston in and out of her, until he felt it begin for him, back behind the root of his cock.

Suddenly, it was there. His cock jerked and his load of waiting sperm jetted from him, spurting from the tip of his cock's head with force, as he stiffened and thrust deep into her for a final, sensation-filled, bone-jarring plunge. "Oh... God!" he groaned and collapsed, completely satiated - for the time being - on top of her.

Now, they were all quiet, and there were only mewls of satisfaction and the satiny sigh of caressing hands on naked flesh.

They rested, lying together, all four of them, in the big bed. Soon, Ginny stirred, arose and did the honors by bringing welcome drinks. As they sipped, propped up on pillows, they talked, Ginny and Brad explaining the ins and outs, the etiquette and expectations of swapping; finally, Ginny asked Gayle, "Would you like to be a part of it?"

Shyly, she looked at her husband, Jim. "Yes... if you do, honey!"

"You know I do!" he agreed.

Ginny, ever the greedy one, soon suggested they make a full afternoon of it. She had some new and interesting sex games to play, and she soon had them arranged in a mutual circle on the big bed.

Gayle's sexual education moved forward, rapidly, as she found herself with Brad's cock in her mouth, finding it easy after the first, tentative, experimental try. Below, his head buried between her thighs, her husband licked and sucked her throbbing cunt, while in turn, Ginny's head bobbed up and down, absorbing Jim's big cock deep into her throat.

Completing the circle, Brad's long, agile tongue worked, diligently, in the moist, coral flesh of his wife, Ginny's cunt.

As they came to full arousal, it was Jim, who broke the chain, saying, "God damn it... I want to fuck my own wife, now!"

"All right with me... we'll both fuck her!" Brad suggested.

Ginny groaned, "But, I'll be left out!"

"Not for long... we'll fix you up later... but no fancy tricks with your dildo... like you pulled on Buck Marcus!" Brad warned.

"I wouldn't do that to anybody I like!" she said, impishly.

Then, as Ginny watched, both men, began making love to her. Gayle had never experienced anything as exhilarating. Four hands, two mouths... and two huge virile cocks aroused her, again, to flaming readiness.

In an erotic daze, she felt herself turned over, then pulled into position, on her knees, her husband, kneeling behind her, his massive cock prodding in and out of her moist, pulsing cuntal sheath, while in front of her, Brad lay thrusting his equally ponderous cock-head into her mouth. She was soon in ecstasy, for Ginny, ever inventive, had turned on the vibrator and was running her hand, the device strapped to it, over her belly and down to her throbbingly erect clitoris. It was not long before she climaxed, again and again, screaming out her rapture in a frenzy of carnal pleasure.

Soon, it was her turn to watch, as the two men turned their attentions to Ginny, neither of them having ejaculated, again, with her.

It was almost a sexual marathon, she witnessed. Jim pounding into Ginny's pussy... while lying below, Brad worked in her backside... until they all came, together in a welter of arms and legs and moans of satisfaction.

And, it was only when they were exhausted and completely satiated that the orgy ended, all of them agreeing they would need some rest... before the night's work still to come.

Was this a sample of the swap-meet Gayle and Jim attended the following week?

It was... and more!


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gayle and Jim Bookman were on their way home, after their first full scale swap club meeting. It was three in the morning, and they were both deliciously tired.

Sleepily, Gayle remarked, "I didn't know you and Ginny were going to be the stars of that slide show Brad put on for us?"

"Hell... neither did I... and he wasn't telling how he got the pictures... either!"

"... But, they sure started everybody turning on!" she enthused.

"Yeah... " Jim agreed, thinking back over all that had happened. "It sure did!"

After they had ridden in silence for a while, she asked, "Jim... will you teach me that...?"

"What's that...?"

"That way... you were doing it with Ginny... De... Despunta I think you call it... " He grinned, glad she asked. "Sure... honey... but it'll have to wait until tomorrow night!"

Her understanding was quick; after all, it had been a long, strenuous night of sex. "Of course... darling... tomorrow night. I feel like I could sleep for two days... "

"You'd better not!" he kidded. "You won't learn it... that way!"

"Oh... " she said, airily, "I always learn everything better in bed!"

"Yeah... I guess you do!" Jim agreed, leaning over to kiss her.

... And, what of Buck Marcus? Did he just fade away? Yes! He didn't have the courage to collect his one day's pay from Brad Sloan, thinking it better just to leave everything the way it was and giving thanks he had gotten out of that house all in one piece. He cursed himself, roundly, for a damn fool and vowed never again to pull a stupid stunt like that.

He got a job in a bar down by the waterfront in Long Beach. His interest in sex hadn't waned, but he stuck to buying it... figuring it was safer... and cheaper in the long run.

"Not much luck in here, tonight, eh Lucille?" he asked, running his eyes over her abundance.

Suspicious eyes glanced up at him. "No... no... I'm not doing so good, tonight... "

"When I'm off shift... I'll throw some business your way!"

"All right... honey!" Her eyes lighted up.

"But I'll only pay you what you're worth... ten bucks!"

"No soap... Buck! It's fifteen to you... and you know I usually get twenty!"

He laid a ten dollar bill on the bar in front of her. "... And I say this ten gets me into you tonight!"

"Well... all right... if nothing else shows up!"

"You know damn well it won't!" he declared... Because you and me are alike... we're half way over the hill!"

Running her hand over her dyed hair, aware of the extra weight she was carrying, she reached for her drink and said, "Oh, I don't know... they're a lot of guys I can still satisfy!"

"Try me... Lucille!" Buck told her.


The End
