Carla Hadim

Wild And Willing

Chapter 1

The house was full of mahogany, and old books wrapped in antique bindings were stacked on dark shelves.

From where he sat on the overstuffed couch, Rick Temple stretched his long chinoed legs across the dark red, white-fringed carpet toward the fire that flared in the hearth. He balanced one white tennis shoe on the toe of the other. "It's burning fine now," he called over his shoulder. He heard Elizabeth Cruise close the door of the liquor cabinet somewhere in the living room behind him. The only illumination was from the sparkling fireplace. He lay back against the couch, his head cradled in the laced fingers of both hands.

"You look very comfortable." Elizabeth handed him the drink he had asked for, brandy with a lace of absinthe.

"I am comfortable," he answered. He smiled at her, accepted the glass.

She looked reflectively into the fire. Her dark hair with its few strands of honest gray was tied back with a girlish ribbon. She turned her dark eyes on Rick, measured him, studied his hands, his mouth, his lean body in the snug-fitting pants. She looked at his hair that tumbled thickly over his forehead, nearly covered his ears, had grown unevenly over his shirt collar. His hair, glossy in the firelight, reminded her of the difference between herself and this young man in her house.

She said, "Your hair is gorgeous, did you know that?"

The odor of the brandy and absinthe was strong in his nostrils as Rick passed his glass under his nose. His eyes fastened on Elizabeth's face.

"Do you think this is terribly wrong of me?" she asked.

"I admire you for it." He held out an arm and she sat down beside him.

She sipped her own brandy, leaning on her knees in front of the fire.

The smaller logs that Rick had placed on top of the fire tumbled as those lower down gave. way. A shower of sparks shot up the rock-lined flue. They left the fire to burn however it would.

Finally Elizabeth asked, "Do you really admire me? You don't even know me."

Rick answered, without hesitation, "Yes, I do." He sat up to place his drink on the rich patina of solid mahogany beside the couch, then carefully moved the glass so it rested,on a cover of Vogue and would not stain the fine wood. He took Elizabeth's glass from her hand and placed it on the magazine beside his own.

She let him move her face to his and he kissed her willing, moving lips.

It was the second time they had kissed. The first had been only an hour before, in Elizabeth's Bentley, outside the club restaurant where they had -accidentally, Elizabeth believed -shared a table. She had chatted gaily with the young, good-looking assistant sailing coach, babbled away almost like a girl, all during supper and over the single sterling-silver coffee pot they had shared afterwards. She thought it was as if twenty years had been taken off her life and she was fifteen again and giddy. She could hardly think of a thing to say so she had talked endlessly, afraid for the conversation to pause for even a minute for fear the young man would find an excuse to get up and leave.

Elizabeth was one of the many widows and divorcees who lived during the summer in expensive old houses near the sailing-resort club on a peninsula off the coast of Massachusetts. She lived there, she thought, for the benefit of her fifteen-year-old son, Shawn, so that he could continue the `sailing lessons he had started four years before, so he would be in a proper social environment for a young man beginning his climb and so she could spend at least part of the summer with him. She saw so little of him since he had gone away to prep school. But tonight Elizabeth was glad that Shawn had asked several days before if he could spend the night with a sailing chum; she had reluctantly consented because she knew how unhappy he would have been if she had said no. She knew that Shawn needed more companionship than just that of his mother, and faced resolutely the fact that she was no longer enough for him. She also realized that she needed something more herself. So she had invited the young assistant sailing coach, after supper, to come to her house for a nightcap.

Yes, he had said, he would like that. Since it was a pleasant evening he would walk back to the docks for his own car, later.

She asked him if he would drive the Bentley. He helped her in on the passenger side, then climbed behind the wheel himself. He had leaned over and kissed her then, quickly, on the mouth, and she had thought she was surprised.

Their bodies were warm from the fire. Rick kissed the side of her face. He thought of the rich mahogany furniture through the house. He wondered what her bed looked like. He kissed her eyes. Her lips nibbled along, his strong jaw line, over his chin, to his lips.

Rick thought everything was on schedule, going according to plan.

She dropped her hand to his leg and felt along the inside of his thigh almost to his crotch where his cock was beginning to rise. She stopped with her thumb against the growing mound.

"Elizabeth," he said, "would you like to go to bed?"

"Mmmmm," she murmured against his ear. "No, I wouldn't, darling." She kept her palm against the sensitive inside of his thigh.

Rick worried for a moment that he might have to persuade her. Her refusal surprised him. Maybe he would have to talk to her for a long time. Maybe she was afraid he would spread stories around the club about her that she could be made by anybody with a stiff rod in his pants.

She passed her hand quickly along the inside of his thigh. She pressed softly and for only a second against his hard-on, which was growing larger. She caressed his cheek. "You're so young," she said, "so damn young."

"Age can't matter now," he said.

"Not to you, it doesn't. You don't have any, that's why. I'm thirty-five, did you know that? I have a son fifteen. I married too young. You won't, will you? Don't get married too young."

He laughed. "All right, I won't." He had no intention of getting married. None whatever. He grinned at her in the innocent, guileless manner he had. His grin, he hoped, was going to be his ticket through life.

Elizabeth touched his crotch again. She rubbed her palm against his prick that was harder than before but not fully up yet.

"I don't want to go to bed," she said. "Not yet. Will you wait a minute and I'll be right back?"

"Of course." Rick let her up. He looked at her. She was a very nice-looking woman. Mature, slim-waisted, her long straight hair.tied back with a yellow ribbon tied in a bow knot at the back of her head. Her breasts were not large but they did not sag, either. Rick thought she looked, well, youthful.

"I love fires," she said.

"You're beautiful in firelight," Rick Whispered.

"You're beautiful yourself. Enjoy your drink. I'll be right back."

Rick inhaled the aroma from his glass and sipped the contents. He thought about Jane, the waitress who had been on duty tonight and who had placed Elizabeth and him at a table together. He thought he might treat Jane to a date or a free sailing lesson for her cooperation. He liked Jane, but the pleasures of being poor held no comforts for him. Jane was one of the local girls who had the good fortune to live near the club, in the houses on the other side of the rich section, but who also had the misfortune of being born into a family with no money and less background. She lived, as only poor people did, year-round on the peninsula. Jane was sure Rick was brilliant because this fall he would be a senior at his ivy-league college; she wanted Rick to be a lawyer, run for president some day. Rick wasn't sure he was even going back to school after the summer. He wasn't sure a proper, cultured life was what he wanted at all. He had begun to think he would prefer to live by his wits. His wits and the succor of friendly women. He thought if he learned enough this summer that he might give it a go this winter in Florida. He had heard there were plenty of rich women in Florida who would love to have his prick just lying on the beach. Whenever they called he would run in and give them some, then go back to the beach and lie in the sun. He anticipated a warm future.

Elizabeth stood before him. She had changed into a long velour robe. Her ribbon was released and her dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders. Rick stood up. She rose on her bare toes and kissed hi}n.

"You're very tall," she said. She had placed, while she changed, a dot of perfume behind her ears, on her throat, between her breasts and on her navel. She was pleased when Rick said, "You smell delicious."

She sank to her knees and untied his tennis shoes. "Can you stand on one foot?"

He balanced himself against the fireplace mantel as she slid his white shoe off his foot, then removed his sock. He lifted his other foot and she stripped it too.

She stood against him again. "Now you're more my size." She began unbuttoning his shirt.

Rick rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. He felt her bare skin and knew she was naked under the robe. She opened his buttons swiftly, expertly. The sensations she gave him when she unbuttoned the bottom one and pulled his shirt out of his pants excited him.

She slid her warm hands inside against his skin. She pressed her thumbs against the nipples of his flat chest. His skin was smooth, well-muscled. She pushed aside the front of his shirt and kissed his nipples. With her face against his chest, she urged the shirt off his shoulders. It fell on the floor.

Leaning back a moment, she admired him. His shoulders were nicely rounded, his arms strong and smooth and gentle as they reached out to her shoulders. He stroked the back of her neck.

She fumbled with his belt. Her knuckles brushed his tight stomach, his belly button.

Rick's cock throbbed in his pants. The cheeks of his ass tightened, loosened and tightened again.

The buckle was an awkward double-hooked leather one. Rick moved one hand to it and flicked it for her. It opened.

Elizabeth sighed, "Rick, Rick," as her fingers opened the top button of his chinos. He held his belly tight to make it easier for her. His breath left his lungs and came back slowly.

She freed the zipper and lowered it. The flaps of his pants fell to each side. His small briefs hid the clutch of dark hair over his crotch. Elizabeth traced her fingers from his bare belly down the thin, faint line of hair to the elastic waistband of his briefs. She hooked her fingers in the elastic, and tugged his briefs down along with his pants.

When his pants passed his hips they fell of their own accord. Elizabeth's fingers kept easing down his briefs, lower and lower, and they slipped past his ass and his cock came into the firelight. The long hard shaft emerged from dark hair at the bottom of his stomach, then as the briefs passed the head it bounded up, into the warmth of the fire, the red glow shining along its hardness, its length and thickness.

Rick stepped out of his pants. His briefs fell to his ankles and he swung them onto the pile of his clothes. He did not take his hands from Elizabeth's shoulders.

Moving both her hands slowly, she caressed his naked hips into the hair over his cock, then she slid both palms along the hard sides of his dick as it stood up, out, at least eight inches, throbbing thick. She touched the large head, traced a finger along the bottom as if stroking its chin. It stood higher, straighter. She touched his balls.

Rick pushed her robe off her shoulders. The smooth material slid off her body to a heap at her feet.

Her breasts were nicer than he had expected. Full, pouting, they swelled off her chest to end in dark brown circles at her nipples. His eyes moved downward toward her stomach with its little dot and the almost black triangle of hair between her legs.

She sank to her knees again. Kneeling on the dark red carpet, she placed her breasts against his knees. She cradled his balls in her hands, ran the sides of her thumbs along his prick. She kissed its round, soft head, the hard sides. She kissed the skin on his hips, ran her fingers around his body to trace suggestively, softly down the crack of his ass. His ass was firm, hard, young.

She opened her mouth and took just the head of his prick inside. Her lips closed softly around the shaft. She licked the end with her tongue, sucked just slightly, softly, taking no more than just the head. She moved her head back and let him slide, slowly, warmly out of her mouth.

Rick kneeled with her. Kissing her, he slid his tongue between her lips. Her own tongue fought back, pushed into his mouth in the first feeling of desperation between them. She ravaged his cheeks, his teeth. His mouth opened wide so she could fuck him with her tongue.

He held her tits. Her nipples were firm, hard balls under his thumb. He tore his mouth from hers and sucked first one nipple then the other with his tongue. He leaned' her onto her back and her arms reached around his neck holding his face to her tits.

Supporting himself on his left hand, he reached between her legs. Her thighs parted eagerly for him. Her ass rose from the carpet, her mound coming up to meet his palm.

She was wet already. He fucked a finger into her cunt, felt her clit already as hard as his own cock. She raised a leg over his hip and opened her lower body for his hand.

He rolled her onto her back, tore his mouth from her tits and his tongue shot into her mouth. Moving between her thighs, he held his cock with the fingers that were not in her cunt and guided it to her lips. She lifted her ass again, her cunt coming up to meet him.

He rubbed the head against her clit. Juices poured from her hot opening, soaking the glans of his cock, inviting it, asking it for more.

"Rick, Rick, I want it now, now, now, Rick." She hissed her words past her tongue and into his mouth.

She pushed up from the rug as Rick pressed forward and down with his ass.

His cock slid between her lips. Her cunt sucked at it and his shaft sank further inside, the walls parting for it, sucking it in, hot and soaking and slick, her cunt wanting it, eager for it. He did not witlidraw or ease off, simply kept pressing forward and she opened, her cunt greedily swallowed all of him he could get inside until he felt his pubic bone against hers. Her thick hair mingled with his. She had all of him inside her.

Her hands held the cheeks of his ass, pulled him against her, as if she wanted more.

He began to fuck, pulling his hips back; his cock slid out, then back in, out again and in. She released his ass, thrust her cunt up to meet his downrushing cock. He knew that she wanted not a longer one but just his young one, she wanted his young hard cock in and out of her, in and out, she wanted to be fucked and fucked and fucked.

His prick seemed very long as he eased it out of her. Slick, soaking with the fluids that poured from her. He teased her when the head was against her clit. He fucked twice with his ass but only an inch or two, pulled the head back out almost as fast as he shoved it in.

Quivers passed along her stomach. Her ass thrust her cunt up to him as if to capture his prick,, as if to suck it back in, but he kept it out of her, teased her by giving her just the head. Her hands ripped from his neck and grabbed his ass again.

"Now," she hissed, "unnhh, uhhh, uunnh."

She opened the crack of his ass.

He reached under her and grabbed her own ass. He lifted her ass, parting her crack, separating her, splitting her open, lifted her toward his pubic bone and began at the same time a slow descent with his cock, sinking it back into her, shoving it further and further up her cunt, the muscles grabbing at him, squeezing against the hard shaft, his cockhead enlarging in her, swelling, filling her full again.

He fucked again, in.and out, in and out. Back and forth, fast, hard, pumping now, enjoying it, loving the gasps that came from her throat, the shivers that passed up and down her body. She swung with him. Her legs wrapped his hips, her thighs clenched tightly as waves rippled from her cunt to her knees and up to her tits.

Her mouth fastened on his and her tongue fucked him as she coaxed ripples along the back of her neck, down her spine to her ass and into her cunt and back up her front again.

Rick's ass pumped fast, his prick coming almost all the way out of her with each pull and thrusting far up into her with each push. Faster and faster. He held her ass tight against him. Her body moved with his. His balls hit the bottom of her cunt as he swung. They bounced back, lay against her again, and as his orgasm seemed to gather in his knees his balls seemed even to get inside her cunt as he tried to thrust himself in her farther, farther into the grasping hole.

A cry came from her throat as the first spurts of his come shot into her.

His cock swelled, engorged, filled her, and when he came it was with long spasms splashing inside her, his balls exploding their load against her womb, surging his thick white come against every part of her cunt.

They lay together, exhausted, for what seemed like minutes.

When he pulled out of her, he was still nearly hard. She kissed the head again. She laid Rick onto his back and knelt over him. She licked him with her tongue, licked his balls, his shaft, his pubic hair, until he was clean. His prick got hard again before she finished. He lay flat, his arms over his head, his eyes closed.

She rose over him. "Be right back," she said.

He heard her go into the bathroom. He heard water running in the basin.

When she came back, her body flushed from their loving, red in the glow of the fire, she asked, "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes," he murmured, reaching up for her.

She knelt between his legs. Lifting his still hard cock with the fingers of both hands, she slipped it into her mouth. She lay down against his stomach, slid her mouth further over his cock, sucked against the head, nibbled against the shaft with her teeth.

Rick reached down and petted her hair. He stroked her ears.

She lifted his balls with one hand, held his. cock in her mouth with the other. Her saliva soaked the head of his prick and it slid easily in and out of her mouth, in and out.

A sigh escaped from Rick's lungs. A long, contented, happy sound filled with anticipation, pleasure, warmth. He took another deep breath of comforting air. He turned his face toward the fire and watched the tender flames licking at the logs, loving them, sweeping them with heat.

Chapter 2

A week later, Rick dove from the stem of the small ketch he had borrowed from the sailing club in order to give Jane her free lesson.

Naked, his body, warm from the hot Atlantic sun, knifed cleanly through the cooling salt water. As he drifted back to light, to the surface, the water lifted his balls, his cock floated above them, his crotch was cleansed, his body refreshed. Underwater, he forced his arms down hard and broke the surface to burst from the ocean almost to his cock, whooping, screeching at the clear blue sky as he fell back into a churning sea of bubbles. "

Jane waved from the boat. Her blonde hair was tied in a knot at the back of her head. She wore a white top and white shorts. Her skin was tan. Rick liked watching her wave to him, the white sail luffing behind her, the sky blue over the white of the sail.

He gathered his muscles, kicked his feet, and his body rose a little into a mid-ocean dive. As his body went under his ass gleamed quickly in the air, winked at the sun.

He loved the feel of the water when he was naked. He dove down until he felt pressure mounting on every square inch of his body. It was as though he had become a six-foot cock and the ocean a cunt, always wet, always rolling in waves, always ready for him.

He swam to the surface, back to the boat with clean, calm hard strokes of his arms. He stretched his body as he swam, his feet making small churning kicks behind him.

He pulled himself aboard, water streaming from his head and shoulders and hips, his legs dripping. He saw Jane's eyes blink twice, like the eyes of a doe, then she looked at his naked frame very carefully. His cock hung from his wet hair, long and almost thick as if it was considering getting hard. His scrotum tugged his balls up against his crotch from the cold ocean until they were nearly invisible. Rick slushed water from his body with his arms in fast hard motions, his prick swinging from side to side as he moved.

"Like what you see?" he asked Jane.

She pursed her lips, looked at the sky. She was not a beautiful girl. Her face was plain, her body ordinary but still as far as Rick was concerned very nice. She had fine, very slim ankles and he imagined her ass when naked would be just as trim and that her crotch would be firm and moist. She said, "Just looking."

"Water's great. You ought to take a swim."

"Thanks," she said.

"You didn't say Yes or No. Will you?"

"I didn't bring a suit "

"You don't need one. Look around you." He gestured with an arm, his naked body swinging with the wave. "Nobody here but you and me." The ocean stretched out flat and calm and as blue as the sky until it reached the pencil-line of coast far away. "You could swim naked."

"I could," she answered, but made no move to get up.

Rick picked up a towel and dabbed his shoulders. He rubbed the thick black hair covering his head. He stepped into the well of the boat where Jane sat against the bound tiller. She opened him a can of beer and he took a long drink. She watched his body as he swallowed the cold brew -his chest, his stomach, the muscles of his thighs, his prick.

"Just looking again?" he asked.

"Comparing." She lifted her hand over her eyes as she looked toward land. "I've never seen one of you rich guys naked before."

"Hey, don't give me that crap. You could have any guy you wanted around this resort. Old men are after your ass and so are their grandkids."

"They might be after me, but they don't catch me."

"Not a virgin, are you?"

"Hell, no." She added, "I'm nineteen," as if that cleared up any doubts about her chastity or lack of it.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said. "If I thought you were a virgin, I'd have kept my pants on."

"Don't worry, I've seen a few cocks."

"Now you're talking," he laughed. "Since you think I'm a rich guy, is my cock any different than one on a poor guy?"

He pulled on an old pair of jeans that he had ripped the legs off of mid-thigh. He zipped up the front. Jane opened the lunch basket she had prepared and they ate tuna sandwiches washed down with beer. They talked, laughed quietly, drifted with the tide.

Jane asked, "What happened with Mrs. Cruise? I saw you leave with her the night I put her at the same table with you."

"It worked," he said.

"What worked? What do you have up your sleeve?"

He showed her his naked arms with an innocent expression on his face. They both sat on the floor of the well, their backs against the railings, their legs stretched across the varnished deck almost touching. Rick saw fine downy hair along her legs, shiny against the tan of her skin. Her bare thighs led his eyes to her crotch, waiting there under the small pair of shorts. Her stomach was bare and her belly button gleamed with a dot of water like a diamond. "I took her home and slept with her," Rick said. "It was easy, sleeping with her. She's older, divorced, and lonely."

"Is that what you do?"

"What do you mean, is that what I do?"

"I thought you were going to some big-shot college upstate?"

"I am. That doesn't keep me from trying to make a few lonely women happy. And say, thanks a lot for setting me up. I really appreciate it. It's bringing dividends."

"How?"

"She recommended me to a friend. A very important friend."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Witherdine."

"Old Mrs. Witherdine? My God. Up on the hill?"

"That's the one."

"I don't get it. What's your screwing Mrs. Cruise got to do with Mrs. Witherdine?"

"Simple. I screw Mrs. Cruise a few times, make her very happy. We can't keep it up all summer because sooner or later somebody will get suspicious. Mrs. Cruise wouldn't like it if everybody suspected her of sleeping with the assistant sailing coach. And her having such a nice young son like Shawn, what would everybody think? Besides, it's probably against club rules."

Jane laughed. She watched Rick's face jubilantly.

Rick continued. "But Mrs. Cruise knows a good thing when she's got it, so she just happens to mention to her good friend Mrs. Witherdine that she knows a nice young chap who is very friendly. Mrs. Witherdine, being unable to prowl the restaurants like Mrs. Cruise, is always willing to try a friend's suggestion and says, `My, why don't you ask this nice chap to drop by.' Mrs. Cruise, wanting to insure a spot in Eastern society for her boy Shawn, Lys, `I'll suggest it to him, I'm certain he would be delighted to meet you.' A few recommendations like that and I'm on my way."

"Where?"

"To easy street. No more goddamn school, none of that garbage for me. I'll get by on my wits and my cock. I'll screw old ladies till I'm blind and deaf and I'll make them love it. I'm not going back to school this fall, if it works out this summer. I'm going to give it a try, screwing rich old ladies. If it works out, I'm going to Florida for the winter."

"What about your folks?"

"They don't know where the hell I am. Or care either."

"That's stupid," she said, "to throw away a college education to live like a ass. It sounds great, but it really is stupid."

"Stupid hell. It's relaxing in front of the fire, the ladies bringing my brandy and absinthe, serving me supper, making love to me like I'm the last piece of ass they'll ever get in their lives. You know how hungry that can make an old lady? Damn hungry, just damn hungry."

"Mrs. Cruise isn't old. She's only about forty."

"Thirty-five."

Jane laughed. "That's not old at all."

"She's just an entry permit," Rick said. Jane's laughter bothered him, almost as if she was laughing at him. "Mrs. Cruise is one of my top references right now."

Jane said, "Mrs. Witherdine's only about fifty. Would you screw anybody older than fifty?"

"I don't think I'll have to. I hope not anyway." Rick added, with bravado, "Would if I had to, though."

Jane studied her beer. "Well, does that mean you'd be around here more often?" She tried to think of herself as Rick's only young friend, as the only girl he would know under forty. She thought that might be an enviable person to be.

Rick reached across to her and touched her neck. "I don't know if I'll be around or not."

She looked nice with her tan skin, her blonde hair. Rick leaned toward her, turned her face up and kissed her mouth.

"Rick," she said, shaking her head. "Are you just practicing up for Mrs. Witherdine?"

He kept his mouth close to hers. "No. You look beautiful. Sailing is good for your complexion."

"I spend too much time running from table to table picking up dirty dishes. And don't say I'm beautiful. I know I'm not."

He touched her neck just below her jaw. "Your skin is so smooth, it's so fine. There's very light hair all over your body, you know. It's sexy."

Her eyes focused on his. She kissed him quickly, moved her head back. "Rick," she said, her eyes moistening, "why are you so good looking?"

He stacked the remains of the lunch into the basket and stowed it all beside the tiller. He reached into the hold and pulled out a canvas and began to lay it across the deck. He looked at her once and her eyes, following him, were happy, expectant.

After he laid the folded canvas across the deck he smoothed the creases. Then he reached for her hand and she crawled over to him and sat very quietly on the canvas as he knelt behind her and began to untie her white top.

He said, "I've had it with teaching kids how to trim a sail, how to set a spinnaker. My summers from now on are going to be spent in leisure."

"Sounds like fun," she said. "Do these old ladies ever want a young female companion?" She laughed when she asked the question, but she was half-serious.

Rick said, "I'll make discreet inquiries."

As he finished untying her top, Jane said, "A friend of mine is having a party in a week or two. You want to come to it?"

Rick passed his palms up and down her bare back. He touched her side and found where her breasts began to swell. She held her hands over her tits. He said, "Yes, I'd like to go. I want to see you some more." He kissed her back. "Let me know when it is."

She took her hands from her breasts.

Cupping his hands around them, Rick caught the thin material between his fingers and pulled it off. Her back, against his lips, was smooth like velvet, tanned, smelled of sea and the sun. His palms went back to her tits and he touched first her nipples that were beginning to harden, then closed over the breasts themselves.

"That's why I didn't want to go swimming," she said.

He didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you notice it?" she asked.

"Notice what? That you've got two breasts with nipples? I knew that."

"Not that. Don't you notice one is smaller than the other?"

Rick squeezed them. One did seem smaller. But if she hadn't mentioned it, he did not think he would have noticed.

He moved in front of her. She sat very still, her hands folded demurely in her lap, her arms holding her sides. She raised her chin bravely to let him know she wasn't ashamed.

Her left breast was more rounded, fuller, than her right. The nipples seemed the same, both were erect now as he stared at them, firm statues on their round brown aprons. Rick put his hands on her tits. Yes, he could tell, slightly, that the right was smaller. "I wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me."

"Well, that's why I didn't want to go swimming. I didn't want you to see that.'

"Why did you let me take your top off?"

"That's different." She sounded unsure of her own rationalization, but she pressed on. "I wanted you to take it off." Her mouth shook as if she might cry, then she stopped.

He lifted her chin. "You sure you're not a virgin?"

She forced a laugh. "I'm sure. I'm just nervous. I never fucked one of you rich guys before. On a sail-boat."

"We'll fix that up right away," he said. He started to laugh, but swallowed it when he saw how. serious she was. "And don't let your breasts bother you. Nobody's tits are the same. Life isn't like a mirror, your left side isn't exactly the same as your right."

"That's easy for you to say. They're my tits."

"Hey, they're gorgeous." He rubbed his thumbs over the nipples. "They're nice, really they are."

"You've seen a lot, I suppose. You should know."

"Damn it, yes I have. I have seen a lot of fits and you do have a nice pair. I never, would have noticed that one isn't as big as the other if you hadn't mentioned it. Hey, Jane, don't let it bother you. It's just not something that should bother your "It does. Sometimes. It bothers me right now."

"Because you're with me?"

"Yes."

He kissed her cheek, then her nose and lips. "If it makes you feel better, I like your breasts very much."

"That's easy for you to say. All you want to do is fuck. And you have a perfect body. It's perfect. I looked at you. I looked at you all over. Your body's perfect."

Rick got mad: "Damn it, you're right, I do want to fuck. Right now I want to fuck with you. But not if you're going to mope around like that. Damn it, nobody's body is perfect. Not mine or anybody's. Listen, sometimes my balls don't hang even. Sometimes the left one is lower than the right." He thought a moment, worried that it was the right one that was lower.

Jane looked at his face, merriment beginning to creep across her expression.

Rick said, thoughtfully, "I think it's the left one that's lower. Wait a minute, maybe it's the right. Oh hell, anyway, sometimes that happens. So what?"

She grinned at him with fine full lips. She laughed. "Let's see."

"What?"

"Come on," she laughed again. "Let's see if one is lower than the other. Come on."

Rick laughed too. "Okay. But don't tell me I didn't warn you."

He stood up quickly. Pulling open the top button, he zipped down his cut-offs as fast as he could and still use 'caution not to catch his pubic hair or the skin of his cock in the zipper. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them to stand over Jane.

Her eyes feasted on his cock again. It hadn't begun to harden yet, but it was still long. He was only inches from her face this time and her lips parted a little as she stared at his thick mushroom-shaped glans, the sinewy shaft that reached up into the thick curly black hair between his legs.

"Go on," he said, "find out for yourself."

She passed her right hand from her lap up between his knees, between his spread thighs. Cupping her fingers, she brushed the root base of his cock behind his balls, then her palm held both his testicles, balanced them. Her fingers circled around them. She squeezed slightly. The tender inside of her thin wrist brushed the underside of his penis and his cock gave a sudden jerk, throbbed from her touch, began a slow rise.

Her fingers passed along his scrotum, tested the oval shape of his balls, and as hell, palm cupped them she felt them draw closer to his crotch protectively.

"You're right," she said. "The left one is a little lower. Just a little."

"Well, your left tit is just a little bigger than your right one. Just a little."

"It is, isn't it."

"Listen," he said, "you didn't hear what I said. I said, your left tit is bigger than your right. Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I heard that. I know it is."

He kneeled in front of her. In the excitement of his discovery, he forgot his prick that now was almost at full stand, reaching up toward Jane's, belly. She kept her hand around his balls. She thought they were the finest balls she had ever touched.

"It's the way you say it," he laughed. "You say, My right tit is smaller than the left. Instead of saying that, why don't you say My left tit is bigger than the right."

"Are we going td discuss my tits all day?" She was laughing, but she touched his cock with her other hand.

"I know it's just semantics, but it's a different way of expressing the same thing."

She tried to figure out what he meant. Her left tit was bigger than her right? She suddenly looked at his eyes. He was right. It did sound better. In fact, it didn't sound bad at all. She tried it out for sound. "My left breast is bigger than my right one."

He grinned as if he had discovered an ancient secret. "That's right."

"No," she said, her lips pouting, "it's my left one."

Laughing uproariously, they collapsed in each other's arms on the folded canvas. As they rolled together, Rick's cock lay along her bare stomach, her tits pressed against his naked chest. She locked her arms around his ass, squeezed him to her.

Through clenched teeth, she said, "Those old ladies are going to love you. They're just going to love you."

Rick stroked her back, his fingers reaching down against her ass still encased in her small white shorts.

She kissed him, slid her tongue into his mouth, then took her face away. "You sure you're coming to that party I told you about?"

"You couldn't keep me away, if you were there." He tried to catch her mouth again with his own.

She rolled away. Lifting her ass off the canvas by pushing her legs against the deck, she unbuttoned her shorts, caught her panties with her thumbs, and pushed everything down at the same time.

Rick saw her bush leap into view, her ass in profile under it, then Jane lay on her back to pull her pants off her ankles. She rolled back to him as naked as he was and wrapped her body around his, pressed her firm stomach against his hard cock. With her hairy Venus mound, she rubbed his balls.

Chapter 3

The knocker felt as heavy as solid gold. Rick liked the heft of it in his hand so he raised it and let it fall again. Knock.

The door was opened by a flat-nosed, heavy-set black lady, possibly forty," possibly sixty. She wore a dark blue uniform with white lace around the wrists and throat. She scowled at Rick, asked incongruously, "Yes, sir?" Rick was unsure of what to say. An image of himself blurting out, "I'm here to screw the Madam" crossed his mind, but he chased it away with a wry smile. "I'm Rick Temple. I believe Mrs. Witherdine is expecting' me."

The scowl on the black woman's face changed to disdain. She said rather abruptly, "Use the back door please. I'll let you in." She closed the heavy oak door in Rick's face.

I'll be damned, he thought. Well, if that's the way they want it, what the hell do I care. He walked down the front steps and followed a brick path around the corner of the house, past the lilacs and blooming holly-hocks. He imagined generations of deliverymen, paper boys, and cocksmen using that path year after year. "The back door, please." He didn't think that would last very long, not with him.

Rick thought he was ready for the old lady. He,had stopped by Elizabeth Cruise's house on the way over. She had walked partway along the beach with him.

"If I had the nerve," Elizabeth had said, "I'd keep you to myself all summer."

"You could if you wanted to," Rick had said. He had wanted her nerve to fail. He 'wanted her to do exactly as she was doing, send him to someone higher on the social ladder, onward and upward.

"It's better this way," she said. "I know I can't see you enough this summer to keep you happy. It would be very dangerous for me if I tried. And I wouldn't want you running around to these local floozies and coming back to me. It's better to send you on your way, like a good little boy, and remember you kindly."

"Will you?"

"You know I will."

To prove it she took his hand and drew him into the protective shelter of the thick undergrowth that provided ballast for the shifting beaches along that part of the coast. She knelt in front of him, unzipped the fly of his slacks, and reached in for his penis.

She sucked on the tip until it was hard, rose thick in her mouth. She pumped her thumb and forefinger back and forth along the shaft. Rick thought she wanted him to come in her mouth and he was afraid he might not be able to get it up for Mrs. Witherdine if he did, so he held back as much as he could. His prick grew larger, thicker, and Elizabeth's head pumped up and down, her breath coming in suctions. She was careful not to soil his slacks with her saliva.

Rick was afraid he would come. He wanted to pull back, but he also wanted to shoot off in "Elizabeth's mouth.

He remembered how after they had fucked in front of the fire, after Elizabeth had sucked him awhile, they had gone into her bedroom and fucked until they were both exhausted. Then, to revive themselves, they both took showers, and after Elizabeth soaped Rick's body from top to bottom and rinsed him off she sat down on the edge of the tub and with the shower water flooding ', her face had slipped his prick into her mouth and got him hard again. She had made him finish, that time. She sucked him until her throat accepted nearly all of his long cock. She kept squeezing his balls, kneading them like soft dough, and when he began moving his ass to the rhythm of her sucking she released his balls and ran both hands between `his legs, slid her wet palms up the cheeks of his ass, and she held him like that, her fingers against the small of his back, her forearms spreading his ass, her upper arms spreading his thighs, his balls hanging between them, his cock sucked into her mouth, her lips grasping it, her breath gasping, her cheeks sucking at his shaft. He had had to hold the curtain rod for support when he came. His orgasm reached from his knees. His come burst against her throat that time like spurts from a water pistol. She had swallowed it all.

This time, on the beach, just when he thought he couldn't hold it anymore, she let him go. He relaxed away from her. She wiped her saliva off his cock with her handkerchief.

"Mrs. Witherdine is going to like you," Elizabeth said.

"You've got me ready, thanks for that. I damn near let you have it all right then."

"I could tell. Thank you for having such a cock and for being willing to use it. A lot of kids your age want to fuck but they just don't seem to get around to it."

"Does Shawn?" Rick asked.

"I don't know," Mrs. Cruise answered. "I don't think so. At least, I don't think he does."

Rick raised his hand to knock on the back door but the maid opened it before his knuckles could descend.

She asked, closing the door behind him, "You going to be a friend to my Missus?"

Rick answered, "Possibly. I haven't met her yet."

"You seen her, though, haven't you?"

"Yes. A few times when her chauffeur drove her through the resort."

"Did you like what you saw?" The black woman's eyes bored into Rick's face, burned the back of his neck.

"I liked the car," Rick said.

"Ha ha ha." The black woman roared with laughter. "Ha ha. Oh boy, you are a friend already." She gestured with her heavy gray palms for Rick to follow her.

She led the way up a narrow flight of back stairs that opened off the kitchen. Rick followed her, her broad beam swinging almost in his face. He thought he liked her, and her humor, but he would have to do something about her making him come around to the back door.

They emerged on the second floor of the house, in a wide hallway with doors opening off it into bedrooms where beds had been made up for guests. The furniture seemed permanent, as if it had been in the house for a century. It was heavy, solid, permanent. If the house were ever sold, the furniture would have to go with it. A thick carpet, which ended along the mahogany wood-work, muffled their footsteps.

The maid stopped at a closed door and rapped softly. "Missus?"

"Yes, Marie?"

"Mr. Temple is here."

"Fine. Please show him in."

Marie opened the door. It swung on silent hinges.

Mrs. Witherdine sat at a frail, ornate French desk. It was the same desk from which she ran the Witherdine fortune.

She smiled as Rick came into the room. Laying down her fountain pen, she rose, crossed the room with a swift, graceful motion, her long dress sweeping the carpet. She held out her hand for Rick.

He felt suddenly clumsy, as if he was about to tip over an expensive vase, or stumble into an antique chair that would not hold him but collapse into a pile of splinters. Marie left the room so silently that Rick was not sure she was gone until he looked around for her and couldn't find her. He wished for a moment that he had been able to go with her, back downstairs to the kitchen where it was comfortable to throw back your head and laugh, where you might slam a door if you felt like it.

Mrs. Witherdine recognized his uneasiness. She gestured to a comfortable chair, one with heavy arms and a thick cushion. "Will you sit down, please?"

Rick sat down, feeling awkward because she remained standing. She studied him a moment longer, then pulled one of the frail-looking antiques across the carpet and sat down close enough for her to rest her hand on the arm of Rick's chair.

"Mrs. Cruise spoke very highly of you."

"Thank you," Rick said. He had a chance to look at her. He liked what he saw. Her hair was gray but very thick. She wore it swept over her high broad forehead. Rick imagined she had been a brilliant woman in her day, probably still was. It took brilliance to run the Witherdine fortune the way she had. Her eyes were sharp, well-focused, and reminded him oddly of Marie's eyes. Then he realized how natural it would have been for Mrs. Witherdine to have hired a black woman with as much spunk and fire as herself. Mrs. Witherdine looked strong. She was tall, thin but not wispy. The image he had received when he saw her being driven by her chauffeur had been that of a frail old lady barely able to get around. The Mrs. Witherdine who sat before him now looked as if she could give him, or anybody, a run for their money.

He gave her his. best smile. "Mrs. Cruise spoke highly of you too," he said, touching her hand that rested on the arm of his chair. She did not pull her hand back, or resist him in any way.

"That's nice, isn't it. Elizabeth thinks highly of us both."

She shocked Rick by reaching across him with her other hand to stroke his cheek. Then she slapped him gently, swiftly. "No need to fool around, is there? With you, I mean? We both know why you're here, don't we?"

"I suppose we do," he said.

"Suppose?" Her voice was sharp, used to dealing with men and getting her own way about it as well. "What do you mean, suppose? We won't get anywhere if you insist on being coy." She asked; again, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes," he said a little too quickly.

"I can't get around to meet young men, as I'd like to. It's just not done by women of my station of life. And I don't appreciate the simps from the cities I could hire. I can't stand a simpering bastard hanging around all day. Lord, I can't bear that. And anybody worth a damn that I'd have around all the time would soon be trying to get his hand into my money pot, you can bet on that."

She stood up abruptly, strode around the room. A single bed stood along one wall, covered with a canopy, four carved mahogany posts rising from the white spread. Rick knew that bed must have cost a fortune when it was new, a century ago; to buy it now would have cost two fortunes, at least.

Mrs. Witherdine suddenly turned back to him. "Are you sure you know why you're here?"

Rick stood up himself. He did not want her to think he was one of those simpering bastards. "Yes," he said clearly.

"Good. We've got that out of the way. To keep you from getting ideas about my money pot, I simply won't let you hang around all the time. I'll just use you when I need you. I don't want you to move in here, or quit your job or anything out of the ordinary. I simply want you to be free to come by here whenever I call for you and visit with me awhile. Is that arrangement satisfactory to your "If I keep my job, I'll be spending a lot of time sailing, teaching kids."

"Nothing wrong with that. I'm not a bitch in heat that I have to be serviced immediately." She smiled, a bit coy herself. "I get warmer as I wait. Tell me, is that arrangement satisfactory to you?"

Rick seemed about to speak, then did not.

She said, "If you're hesitating because of doubts about any remuneration, don't. You have nothing to worry about in that respect. Take my word for it."

"All right," Rick said. "You look like a woman who can be trusted. But don't you want a sort of trial run first? Do you trust me?"

Mrs. Witherdine began to smile. "I don't trust you at all, young man. Or any young man. But I trust Elizabeth Cruise and she said that you are good. That's enough for me."

Rick nodded. "We've struck a bargain then."

She laughed, her head tilting back toward her shoulders, her mouth jerking open and shut abruptly. "Fine," she cried. "That's fine, fine."

She moved toward Rick with a look in her eyes unlike anything Rick had ever seen before, a hunger he had never witnessed in the eyes of any of the girls who had lowered themselves under his body. Mrs. Witherdine said again, "That's fine," as she came closer, her tongue passing across her lips leaving a shining gleam of moisture.

Chapter 4

Downstairs, Marie kept busy doing whatever it was that maids do when the mistress wants them to keep out of the way.

The sun beamed down on the resort town as everywhere else, but sea breezes cooled it, gave it a cleansing air not found across the highway in the poor section where year-round residents lived in clapboard houses painted bright yellow and green or sometimes pink in an effort to display cheeriness, an effort that always turned drab after the first winter fog. In the resort area, next to the bay, all the houses were bright white and stayed that way and the weather was always cool, Rick already knew and understood the difference between the two halves of the town, but now he was learning another difference. He was surprised at Mrs. Witherdine's directness, at how she seemed to see what she wanted and moved toward it in a straight, unwavering line. Probably, Rick thought, that was how she managed her fortune and kept it from dwindling, unlike so many widows left with their husband's fortune and no manager. But, Rick thought also, Mrs. Witherdine had probably always been direct, had probably always moved in a straight line toward what she wanted. No doubt that was how she had gotten Mr. Witherdine in the first place.

With the line of moisture lingering on herflips, she touched Rick's hand with her cool fingers. Her face, up close, was smooth from years of cream and lotion. Her bright, swift eyes calmed as she touched him, as she realized that he was going to be hers, but her voice remained direct as if she could not quite control it yet. "Follow me."

With her fingers still on his wrist, she led him into an adjoining room and closed the door. A large double bed waited, its spread turned back, its aqua-colored, satin sheets exposed. It was another four-poster, the posts carved in the same manner as the single bed in the office room, part of a set bought by the family a century ago at a rate exorbitant for 1875.

Mrs. Witherdine stopped Rick in front of a three-sided, full-length mirror, the same as might have been found in a department store except that this mirror had bevelled glass and the frame was mahogany.

She said quietly, "Would you mind if I see the merchandise?"

It bothered him to undress in front of her, with her standing there sizing him up as if he was a piece of hamburger in the. market or a mink coat on a rack. But he thought to himself that this was what he had decided to do, to hell with it, this was going to be his ticket to somewhere.

When he pulled his banlon shirt over his head, his thick blond hair fell back with a bounce. It was just long enough to be carefree. He smiled at his benefactress as he stepped out of his tennis shoes.

She watched him in the three mirrors, as well as in the flesh. She admired his white, even teeth, his strong and rich lips. She wanted to kiss his blue eyes.

He asked, "Do I have any of the same rights?"

"In due time."

His back rippled in two reflections as he unbuckled his belt, opened his pants and pushed them, shorts and all, down around his ankles.

Mrs. Witherdine saw the flash of his buttocks as he bent over, then he was standing totally naked, his feet bare, his lips serious but his eyes smiling.

She looked at his chest with its bare suggestion of hair. His skin was evenly tanned, without a blemish, and her eyes passed over his nipples and down his firm stomach to his belly button and Mrs. Witherdine could not stop her eyes anymore. It was as if she slowly was moving into an orgasm, as if waves were rising from' deep within her cunt, and finally she passed over the peak and could not stop herself anymore. Her eyes followed the thin line of hair from his navel, down to where it thickened and became his pubic hair and she looked at his crotch.

She was glad he was circumcised. His penis was excited but not yet erect; it hung long and hardening, as if Rick were swimming naked with his girl but had not quite begun fucking her yet. Mrs. Witherdine was pleased because her friend Mrs. Cruise had not misled her, Rick did indeed have a very nice cock.

She stepped into the range of the mirror with him. She touched his sides, dropped her hands to his hips. One hand circled his body, touched along the cheeks of his ass. She watched her fingers caress him in the mirror.

She dropped her other hand to his crotch, fingered his thick hair and circled the shaft of his cock and lifted it, sliding her hand to the swelling head. Her knees shook, slightly, under her long gown.

Rick thought of lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bed, but decided instead to wait for her, to let her lead a while longer.

She found his balls and caressed them. As his prick began to stiffen, she gripped it, pulled on it, loosened her land and petted it with the tips of her fingers. It throbbed in her hand.

Touching the back of her neck, Rick leaned forward slightly, breathed in the aroma of her perfume, the creams and lotions rubbed into her skin, and brushed her lips with his own. He kept them there, then pulled her face closer and kissed her, tasting her lipstick with his tongue.

He never knew how she did it, but Mrs. Witherdine simply seemed to touch her left shoulder with one hand and her long gown separated over her collar bone and slid swiftly down between them to the floor.

Her skin was softer than that of any girl Rick had ever touched. Her breasts, pressed against his body, seemed to fold back into her body. He could feel her hard nipples against him, but her breasts were soft and almost non-existent. He held her head with both hands as he kissed her mouth, as her hands rested lightly on his hips.

Then she stepped quickly away from him and walked toward the bed. He looked quickly at her body, and was pleased with what he saw.

As she turned away from him, he saw a thick fist of dark hair at her crotch, and above that a slight sag at her abdomen where she had carried three babies. Her legs were long and slim, tapered to firm ankles. Her ass had sagged more than her face, but, Rick thought, for God's sake, the woman was in her fifties. Her breasts were not as firm as they must have been at eighteen, but it was encouraging to Rick that the woman was as old as she was and still wanted to fuck, still yearned for fresh cock now and then. That meant to Rick that if he stayed the same, that if he could keep it up over the years, as apparently Mrs. Witherdine had managed to do, he had at least forty years of fucking stretched out before him. It was a fine thought, he imagined.

And right now, he said to himself, was the time to get to it.

He followed the naked woman to her bed, his cock bounding as his thigh pressed forward, but Mrs. Witherdine would not let him lie down beside her.

"Not yet," she said, her voice having lost all traces of directness, and having become the voice of a woman who wanted to be fucked. "Not yet, please. Wait, and watch."

The four pillows on the bed appeared to be so soft when Mrs. Witherdine sank her head on them that Rick knew they must be filled with goose down. Her hair bunched around her head. It was gray, but full and thick. She smiled gently at Rick, looked down his body again and to please her he turned like an athlete on a pedestal, his cock sticking out and up like a ramrod, his ass tight and firm.

She stretched full length on her satin sheets. Passing her palms over her breasts, she excited the nipples even more until they rose on their brown circles to thick points. Her hands kept moving down her ribs to her belly, into her crotch.

Rick watched her fingers slide over her inner thighs, pressing against her "flesh. She parted her legs and her fingers began to disappear into her vulva, easing like ten little pricks into the pink slit that opened further as she brought her knees up. Her fingers pressed inside the pink folds, touched her clit, began to slide inside.

She half-closed her eyes, then opened them again to feast on Rick's cock. He stood patiently, amused, learning. Mrs. Witherdine knew just what would make her come and Rick was patient enough to let her get to it. He wanted his cock in there in place of her fingers but if she preferred ten little ones to his one big one, that would have to be all right with him. She had bought and paid for him, or would as soon as she was finished, and Rick had no option except to keep his cock hard for her eyes.

As he watched her pleasing herself, he realized that she certainly had an advantage over younger girls. The young ones may have had bodies that still were firm and upright but many of the ones Rick had fucked had known absolutely nothing about what would make them come. Mrs. Witherdine had been over this route many times before and knew just what her physical needs were and, like everything else in her life, she went straight after it. She did not have to fiddle around like girls often did trying desperately to discover the right combination.

But Rick was young himself and he could not watch for long a woman masturbating herself without feeling himself being set on fire. His cock yearned to slide in after those fingers and he suddenly realized with gratitude that Mrs. Witherdine was brilliant. She had made him feel something he had not thought possible.

Even though Elizabeth Cruise had sucked him to a stand-still, Rick had not actually believed he would be able to perform at his best for a woman of Mrs. Witherdine's age. He had thought the sight of her fading body, her probably dry cunt, would turn him off.

But Mrs. Witherdine, by making him stand naked and watch her perform upon herself, had done the impossible. She had made him want her.

He would not have believed it possible before. He actually wanted her. He wanted to fuck her. Previously he had simply been doing his duty as part of his new profession as gigolo, but Mrs. Witherdine had treated him with such expertise that he wanted nothing more now than to get his cock as far up in her as he could to please both of them. Ile leaned toward. her slightly.

She recognized his feelings. With her voice coming from deep within the pillows, her fingers still probing her wet cunt, she asked, half whispering, "Will you fuck me?"

Before she finished the sentence Rick leaned over her to catch her breasts where they were pushed up between her upper arms. He sucked the hard nipple of the left tit between his teeth, then kissed her chest over to her other nipple and sucked it hard into his mouth. His hands found her belly button and he rested one hand lightly against her abdomen, the tips of his fingers barely skimming the top of her pubic hair.

Her fingers left her cunt and stroked his prick as he climbed onto the bed. Spreading her legs to accept him, she raised her cunt to press against his thighs as he rolled over her.

His mouth found hers and as his tongue stroked into her mouth he felt his balls being weighed in her hands and his cock being pointed forward and he felt her touch it against the moist lips of her cunt and suddenly, with only the slightest pressure of his hips, he was inside her.

Almost without reason or acknowledgment of it, Rick felt he had as suddenly slipped all the way into every forbidden woman in the world, his mother, his sisters, every older woman who had petted him as a child, his aunts, all the women as he was growing who had said they would have liked to have eaten him up. And as soon as the thought flashed through his mind it disappeared and he was in Mrs. Witherdine's cunt as far as he could reach and his balls were bumping blissfully against her ass.

She was strong inside and went directly for what she wanted. Her knees came up under Rick's arms and her thighs gripped him, stroked his waist as she pumped. She pumped hard, her mouth gasping, her orgasms coming almost instantly, one after another.

Rick's cock swelled, he shoved hard into her, and felt a wave of his own orgasm pass over him. He held onto it, though, as he felt her comings subside, as she settled down to a long, slow fuck if Rick could hold off long enough. He thought he could, and he wanted to, so he slacked off himself, drew his organ almost completely out of her slick, soaking cunt and let it rest a few seconds, the head still inside her, the shaft pumping and gorged with blood but under control, cooling and settling, as Mrs. Witherdine flexed her muscles and squeezed the head.

Rick lowered himself again, sliding slowly back into her.

Mrs. Witherdine rolled her head from side to side. She held onto Rick's ass with her heels, pulling him tighter against her loins. Reaching down between his legs, she found his balls and stroked them, fingered them, put her finger around the shaft of his cock where it disappeared into her soaking hole.

Rick spread his legs and took firm hold on the bed with his toes and his knees and the palms of his hands. He worked over her.as he had never worked over anyone. She was his ticket to stardom. He would do her better than he did Elizabeth Cruise, because Mrs. Witherdine was more important, could open so many more doors. His cock thrust far up her and she wriggled on it like he was pinning her to the bed, she fought it as nobody had ever fought his cock before.

It seemed to Rick that ripples passed over her body, starting at her crotch and working up to her scalp and back down. Up and down her body. He felt detached almost, as if he were merely an interested bystander, and he might have been able to detach himself completely except that an irresistible impulse began to gather in his thighs, in his lower abdomen, as if he were slowly being set on fire.

He thought it would be wonderful if he could spend the entire afternoon in Mrs. Witherdine's bed, always just on the verge of coming but not quite as Mrs. Witherdine writhed and gasped under him, her brain set afire by the cold, calculated actions of the cock thrusting far up inside her, the cock she had never seen mere minutes before and now was inside her private person turning her into an animal.

He sucked a fit into his mouth, the nipple hard and firm.

Quickly, without warning her, he grabbed her around her waist and rolled over with her riding his cock and he humped himself up into her. Her old arms circled his neck as if she might fall off the edge of the world if Rick let go. Her legs swung loose but rhythmically along his sides as he thrust her higher and higher, her ass wide open and swinging above him, rising and falling with the bursts of his body. Then he was as suddenly kneeling, holding her up by the cheeks of her ass, lifting her on and off his cock that still seemed to grow and stiffen, more and more,,and Mrs. Witherdine's moan turned into sobs, a cry.

"Oh, Oh Oh Rick, Rick, Ricky, Ricky my baby, my baby, my man, fuck me hard, far up fuck me, Ricky; Oh, Oh." She held his head between both hands and sucked his tongue out of his mouth.

As he thrust his tongue far into her mouth, he laid her on her back again with his hands still pulling at the cheeks of her ass.

She pulled his hair and as far as Rick was concerned that did it. His fingers probed at her ass. He was in every orifice of her body and the burning sensation around his balls grew, burst out of control. His lower body was enflamed from his knees to his belly. The head of his cock swelled as he pumped and he began to come in short, hard, heavy spurts.

Mrs. Witherdine took it all, rode with him through his orgasm, gripping his head with her hands and his ass with her heels. As he finished she gripped his cock with her cunt muscles to milk the last of his come. She felt him sink against her, the weight of his body relaxing as his spasm passed.

"Oh, my God, she said at last. "Why didn't you tell me you could do that?" His prick was still inside her hot cunt, and she enjoyed the feel of it softening. She squeezed it again. "Your prick is fine, wonderful. You come so strong, so good."

Rick buried his face in her fits. He began to say, "It was a… " but found he was out of breath. In a moment he said, "It was a nice beginning."

Looking down at her, he did not think she seemed anymore like the strong, officious, direct woman he had encountered hardly half an hour before. She seemed more like a woman who had just been well fucked, satisfied. She had softened. She was more like a woman resting under her man, gathering her blood for another fuck. She reached under 'them to pet his balls again, then his ass and his back and shoulders.

Rick was surprised to find her cunt so full of juices. She had been as flowing, once she got started, as young Jane on the boat. She had been a finer fuck than Mrs. Cruise, who seemed to have some Pilgrim blood spoiling her from really and truly enjoying a young cock riding up, inside her. Mrs. Witherdine, being wealthy enough, could ignore all that and just enjoy it. Rick had not thought an old woman could summon such juice out of her loins, could enjoy fucking as much as Mrs. Witherdine obviously just had; he thought he still had a lot to learn about the very rich.

Just then a bell rang. Not a harsh warning bell, not one to jangle the nerves during or after a satisfying screw, but a soft, tinkling, gentle bell suggesting that there might be something else that needed doing.

Rick thought it meant that it was time for him to dismount, get off, but Mrs. Witherdine seemed to pay no attention at all to the bell, held him a little longer and kissed the side of his face.

Then, before he knew it, Rick found himself out of her, sitting upright on the bed beside her as Mrs. Witherdine wrapped a robe around her body and stood up. She passed a cool hand down his front to lift his limp but still long cock. It was slippery but drying fast. Mrs. Witherdine looked at it and felt a thrust of blood surge through it as it hinted at another rise.

"Thank you," she said. "Let me admit, Mr. Temple" -her voice had once again turned direct, officious, but this time there was a degree of acceptance in it -"Let me admit: at first, I thought you were going to be another one of those summer kids who get their rocks off at the very first touch of a cunt. Cod knows I've looked at enough and experimented with enough young bucks to know that most of you just get it in and move it back and forth a little and bingo, you hit the jackpot, you're coming and spilling over like an oil transport off the California coast."

She was unable to keep up her officiousness, however, and leaned over suddenly and sucked the long cock between her lips. She licked the head clean, slurped at the hardening shaft, then let it all go.

"I will be busy for the rest of the day. It's too bad. I scheduled some people. I didn't think I would like you this much." She walked toward the door that led to her office-bedroom-sitting room. She stopped before the three-way mirror and brushed her silver hair with a monogrammed brush, then walked to the door and opened it. Looking back at Rick, she said, "There is a bath in the adjoining room." She nodded toward another door. "Marie will be up shortly to help you, and she will show you out. I will call you again in a few days, but I will give you advance notice."

Rick sat on the bed, his hard-on in his lap. This old lady had really turned him on. He grinned at her with his best summery, cheerful, happy, promising smile and she blew him a kiss, then closed the door.

He flung himself back on the bed, sinking deep into her goose-down pillows. He pulled the top satin sheet up over his naked body, turned it down just over his cock, and lay with his hands behind his head. The world was going to be his oyster.

There was a soft rapping at the second door. Without waiting to be told she could enter, Marie came inside and stood at the foot of the bed. She looked at Rick's body as he lay in the mistress' bed and she noted the swelling under the sheets at his crotch. He grinned at her as if he would invite her to bite it if she wanted.

She grinned back. "You just tuck that in somewhere else, Mister Man. Don't you go bothering Marie with things she ain't going to have."

He spoke softly, but honestly. "It's yours if you want it." Rick had only fucked one black girl in his life, a coed at his college who had sworn she was a virgin as she was swallowing his cock. They had been lying on the campus lawn near each other, each studying their own books, and Rick had inched closer and closer to the girl and finally could reach her snatch with his bare foot and he set her on fire with his toes. She had rolled over finally and unzipped his pants and taken his cock in her mouth. The first words out of her when she let him go were, "I'm a virgin." Rick had promised to be gentle, then eased her into some bushes and slipped her pants off her dark brown hips. He had been incredibly excited at the sight of her very black, very thick and curly pubic hair and when she parted her legs he moved his lips down into the pink heady vulva and his tongue began to stroke softly, slowly across her clit until he had her on fire again and then his cock went into her as if it was sliding into a greased glove.

Marie only scowled at him. "Look here, Mister Man. I got mine somewhere else, and the mistress she gets hers where she can get it. We all got problems, but there's no use in mixing my problems with her problems. Now you get your white ass out of that bed and, let me, make it. As soon as you're slicked up I'll show you out and we can all get back to business."

Rick got out of bed, as she directed, stood in front of her bare-ass naked, and said, "Okay."

"That's better," Marie said, moving around the other side of the bed. She didn't give his cock a second glance. "Use the bathroom through that door there," she gave it a backward nod, "and I'll have your clothes ready."

He obeyed. He realized that people using the house were used to obeying the women who ran it, whether it was Mrs. Witherdine or Marie giving the orders.

When he finished in the bathroom, Marie handed him his clothes and he dressed and followed her toward a third door. He glanced back at the room and saw that Marie had stripped off the old sheets and put new ones on the bed, freshened the pillows, arranged a small cluster of flowers on the bed table. The room looked and smelled fresh and inviting, ready for Mrs. Witherdine to crawl into bed tonight in a dignified manner proper for a fifty-year-old matron.

They descended another flight of narrow back stairs and came out into the kitchen. Both Rick and Marie were startled to find a beautiful, raven-haired, black-eyed girl sitting cross-legged on a kitchen stool eating a piece of cake.

"Hi," the girl said brightly, more to Rick than to Marie.

"Miss Jenny," Marie gasped. "I thought you were in the study."

Jenny grinned like a mischievous child. "I thought you might have some cake out here." She lifted a piece on her fork. "And I was right." Her eyes stayed on Rick as her mouth opened just a little and the piece of cake slipped inside.

Rick knew at once who she was: the sole heir to the entire Witherdine fortune, Jenny Roman, the old lady's grandniece. One of the most beautiful girls on the Massachusetts coast.

Rick had never set eyes on her before, but now he would never forget her. She was nineteen, slim, with a fine pair of breasts and a bare, tight stomach dotted with a firm little belly button. He managed to say, "Hi," and give a sort of wave as Marie ushered him swiftly toward the back door.

He thought that her eyes, framed by the jet-black hair, were the brightest pair of captives he had ever seen.

The door closed behind him.

Forever.

He might get back in whenever the old lady wanted him. He was hardly aware of the envelope Marie had slipped into his hand as they had started dawn the stairs. He was welcome back at the mansion whenever Mrs. Witherdine's libido was acting up, but to want to meet the heiress, the gorgeous hunk of girlhood that he had seen in the kitchen, was never-never, forbidden, do not touch, reserved for some guy out now properly sailing in some regatta.

Rick walked back toward the resort along the road. Cool breezes came from the bay making the green reeds along the shoulders nod and wave. They swayed like lovers unable to touch.

Rick felt devastated. From the incredible high he had felt as he bounced out of Mrs. Witherdine's bed at Marie's insistence, he had been dealt a low blow in the back of the balls. He had run four-square into Jenny Roman, suddenly the most beautiful girl he had ever met, and she knew beyond any doubt that he was her great-aunt's lover, her paid boyfriend, a hanger-on of old ladies, a suck-ass.

There was a single bill in the envelope, one hundred dollars.

A hundred bucks for a single fuck. It would have been worth it if he had still been able to convince himself he was going to be happy fucking old ladies. He enjoyed the beach birds swooping and singing over his head, and the feel of the breeze on his face. He enjoyed walking.

He had made a hundred bucks, and screwed himself out of a million.

He was kicking stones out of the roadway when the little red sports car pulled up from behind him and stopped.

Jenny Roman sat in the driver's seat. She looked at him long and hard with only a suggestion of a smile around her dark eyes.

Chapter 5

Jenny's lips formed a nice little pout as she looked at him.

She stared straight at him with her black, very deep eyes. She did not wear any makeup at all, but her skin was perfect, smooth, as tanned as her long legs that smoothed out of her white shorts. Rick looked down her face to the thin yellow T-shirt she was wearing. It was made of a rayon-like material, thin and stretchy and very clingy, and where it rose on her chest to cover her breasts Rick could see her firm little nipples. She looked wealthy, sure of herself, and very beautiful. Rick said, looking at her tits, "Hi." "Want a lift?" she asked.

"Did you finish the cake?"

She had a lot of her grandmother's directness about her. She said, "I asked you first."

Rick laughed, then stepped over the car door, sliding down into the leather bucket seat.

"What's your name?" Jenny asked, slipping the ear into gear.

"Answer my question," Rick grinned.

Looking over at him, as she let out the clutch and started down the road, she inspected his eyes, his mouth. "Yes. Marie makes very nice cake. Now, what's your name?"

"Rick."

"Rick Temple, isn't it? Don't you work at the club? Teach sailing, or something?" "Right." Rick liked the way she drove: sure of herself, carefully, fast but not too fast as if she had something phony to prove to herself. Rick, thought she was just like the old lady had been, thirty or so years ago. He wondered about her in bed, if she hungered for it as much as her great-aunt did, and he imagined she was just as hungry as he looked again at her tits, her slim bare belly under the bottom edge of the T-shirt, the full hips inside the white shorts and the firm, long tanned legs. Rick imagined her hairy lips and wanted to slide a few fingers between them, feel her moisture start to flow.

"Is this your first year at the club?" she asked as if she was unaware of Rick's thoughts.

"Yes." He cocked his right foot on the door ledge; sending her messages with his body. He turned more toward her.

"How did you meet Auntie?"

Rick looked down the road. The resort was not far ahead. He did not have much time to move in on the niece as well as the great-aunt. He wondered if it would be possible, if perhaps he had not blown everything, that maybe she wanted some of what the old lady was getting, that maybe she would like to try out the old lady's fucking, see what her great-aunt saw in this mere child of a man. "I met her through a mutual friend," he said.

Jenny negotiated the turn easily and slowed clown to pass through the resort area between the carousel and the popcorn stand. She said, without looking at Rick, "That's how she meets all her lovers. That's what you are, aren't you?"

Rick was too stunned for a moment to negotiate an answer. As jenny slowed to a stop in front of the sailing club, he managed weakly, "Huh? W h a t was… that?"

Jenny stopped the car. Her long tanned legs worked the clutch and brake beautifully, gracefully, as if they could not make a mistake. "Aren't you her gigolo? Her new one?"

Rick didn't know whether a gigolo admitted being one or not. If he denied it, how was he to find new business? If he admitted it, wouldn't he be blowing his cover and make all the old ladies afraid he would gossip about what they did in the secrecy of their bedrooms? Would grand-nieces screw their great-aunt's lovers? But all the time he knew there was no doubt that Jenny knew what he was doing sneaking down the backstairs with an envelope in his hand. And if that hadn't told her all she needed to know, the guilty expression on Marie's face certainly had, exposed everything the maid had been trying to keep secret.

"Yes, I am," he said, having figured it was better to say yes than no.

Jenny smiled. "Does she pay well?"

Rick was only a couple years older than Jenny, if that much, but suddenly he felt that he was about forty, that he was nothing more than a dirty old man trying to seduce a kid. He felt himself aging in front of her. He imagined her imagining him naked, coupled in bed between her great-aunt's legs. He felt that she looked at him with accusing eyes. He said, "What she pays is none of your business."

He wanted to tell her he didn't sleep with old ladies, that he wasn't a male whore, that he only got it up with young, firm and sweet young girls like Jenny herself. He knew that Mrs. Witherdine's cunt had been finer, better, more experienced than many of the younger things he had dipped into, but how could he explain that to Jenny, or even persuade her that it was true? How could he defend himself by telling Jenny what a good lay her great-aunt had been?

He felt naked but unable to get an erection. Defenseless. He opened the door to get out.

"I hope you're nice to her," she said. "She needs men once in awhile and it is hard for her to meet them, decent men, in her position."

Rick thought that she was being kind, but he did not want that now. He wanted to have met the great-aunt, the Grand Dame, because he was dating Jenny, not the other way around. He could have had the whole pie, instead of merely the crust.

"She's a nice lady," Rick said, "but I don't know her too well yet." He got out and closed the door. "I imagine she was just like you are, when she was your age.

Jenny smiled. "We are a lot alike. But not really. Auntie was a virgin when she got married."

With that, she let out the clutch and her twin exhausts roared away up the street. Away, Rick thought, from the sailing club and its kids waiting for Rick to teach them to sail, away from jobs and hours and away from Rick and old ladies' gigolos, and toward a rendezvous with some young, strong and virile collegiate type who was just like Rick had been before' he started fucking old ladies.

Rick spent the half hour before his first class shooting billiards and he felt better when he heard the loud crack as he broke the balls, but he thought to himself that he was only twenty and too young for his life to have come full circle already. Because of the cheap way he had felt with Jenny, he remembered Linda Long and how badly he had treated her the summer, only four years before but seemingly ages ago, when they had both been counselors at the same camp.

He took his class into the boats and showed them spinnakers and tillers, explained the necessity for the proper ratio between mast and keel blade. As he moved into open water with the three advanced students, he went through the motions of teaching them but his mind was on Jenny Roman and how he had felt when he realized for certain that she thought of him only as her great-aunt's lover.

Her great-aunt's lover.

He thought he could have managed it if he had been screwing her mother, or an older sister if she had had one. But to be dicking the grand old dame herself? It might have given him a little class if he hadn't decided he wanted the grand-niece herself. He felt as if Jenny had kicked him in the stomach, or, more precisely, as if he had kicked himself in the balls.

He thought he was very young for life to have been getting even with him.

The summer he was sixteen he had worked as a counselor at Camp Wexamach in Maine. Linda Long was a local girl who had been hired as a substitute counselor for the camp kids, who ranged in age from eight to fourteen. There hadn't been much of a town nearby, so Rick had invited Linda to go canoeing with him one evening after the kids had been bedded down and other counselors were on night duty. They paddled across the wide lake, following the moonbeam at first, then put in at a secluded cove and lay down on a blanket on the grassy slope just above the small sandy beach. They drank some Pepsi Rick had brought and smoked two cigarettes. Rick apologized for not being able to find any grass in the little town, but Linda said she was glad because she would not have smoked it anyway and would have been frightened if Rick had., Rick studied the way her pink shirt buttoned clown her front. She was sixteen, a small-town girl, innocent, trusting, naive. And she was thrilled to be on such a sexy date with Rick Temple, who lived in Boston.

She was nervous when he kissed her. She smelled sweet, like fresh lake water. Her hands shook slightly as she placed one tentatively on the back of Rick's neck. Rick remembered clearly all the steps he had gone through with Linda.

She was a virgin, innocent and trusting and willing but scared. Rick had thought he was a good cocksman, despite the fact that he had had only two pieces of ass in his whole life.

His first girl nearly got away from him, as so many had previously. They were in a drive-in movie and Rick had her naked from the waist up.

He kept kissing her tits, sucking her nipples, running his hands up and down her back. He was afraid to try to get into her pants, afraid for two reasons: one, she might give in and he wouldn't know what to do, and two, that she might get mad and make him stop sucking her nipples. But this girl was different and solved his problem by saying, rather sarcastically, "Don't you know how zippers work?" She opened the front of her jeans, pushing them off her hips, and raised herself up from the seat so that Rick had no choice except to put his left hand between her legs. He remembered how surprised he had been at how wet she was, how easily his fingers slipped inside her. Later he managed to get his own pants open and the rubber on his dick and he flicked her. His second piece of ass had been only a few weeks before he left home for the counselling job. A maid his mother hired to come once a week had caught Rick at home alone and without even turning off the vacuum cleaner she had pulled his cut-offs down around his ankles and given him his first blow job and as soon as his still-stiff prick got over being sensitive she lay on the living room rug and let Rick shove it up her cunt So he felt he was a real cocksman, out on the lake at night with Linda Long, the country girl.

She lay with her one hand behind her head, the other on the back of Rick's neck, as he unbuttoned her shirt. He tugged the tails out of her jeans and opened her skin to the moonlight. She wore a small, maidenly white brassiere. Rick traced a finger across her throat, down between her breasts, over a little bow in the middle of her bra, down her mid-section to just below her belly button.

She put both hands around his head and kissed his mouth, possibly hoping that would stop the downward plunge of his fingers, but his hand did not stop, slid over her belt, across her firm abdomen and down between her legs. Her mound was big for a young girl, dropped off suddenly into the crevice that led to her ass, and Rick held on there as Linda thrust her ass off the blanket, planted both feet squarely on the ground and pushed up hard against his palm, against his fingers that pressed her soft parts. And Rick discovered that she was not thrusting up to get rid of his hand, but to push harder against it.

Within seconds he had her belt open, was sliding her pants off her hips, and Linda kicked them off her bare feet. They rolled together a moment, Rick's hard-on stretching along his pants, Linda's naked legs locking his hips, his fingers fondling, holding her ass. Then they broke free of each other so Rick could stand up quickly and strip off his own clothes and lie down beside Linda again, their flesh touching, their legs blending together. She slid her open shirt off her shoulders and Rick's tongue crossed her naked tits. She touched his cock, gently, at first timidly, then roamed down to his balls. She helped him lie over her and as she spread her thighs she guided him into her, raising her cunt to meet him again as she wanted it, wanted to be fucked. Rick worked into her slowly, fucked into her with just the head, pressed harder and he felt her virginity parting, giving way, and when her mouth fastened on his he pressed in harder and his cock was sliding all the way up her virgin, willing, hungry cunt.

He was pleased to find how nice it was to fuck a willing virgin, that she took all his cock easily. She came quickly and when she was riding into it again Rick couldn't holdback anymore and let go and as he flooded her full of his come she held onto him as if he was the only firm grip in a slippery world, her small frame quivering with excitement, tensing and relaxing, joyful, her own coming passing over and over her body. It was the first time he had come without a rubber inside a girl and the thought of his come shooting far up inside her, farther even than his long cock could stretch set him on fire, and before he withdrew, his cock let him know it wanted more and he fucked her again, slower this time, able to draw it out and build up gradually until their brains were filled with nothing but the idea of their own fucking. After they dressed and paddled back to the camp, Rick flicked her once more, lying on burlap sacks in the boathouse, his cock seemingly longer and harder than it had ever been in his life.

Within a week he had started screwing the camp director's wife, a tempting seductress of twenty-six who taught Rick most of what he knew about fucking and sucking, and being fucked and sucked. The camp director's wife spent entire nights with Rick in an empty bunkhouse and one night while Rick had to stay on duty she even crept into his bunkhouse where he was asleep with all his charges and woke Rick by touching his sleeping fingers to her soaking, wriggling cunt. That was the first time Rick sucked her off, as she lay spread-eagled on his narrow cot.

And Linda? Well, Linda was a nice kid and a good fuck but she could not compare to the camp director's wife, who had had years of experience and knew how to lead a sixteen-year-old kid around with his fingers aching to get into her hole. So Linda spent the rest of the summer trying to date Rick again, trying to get him at least to take her canoeing. Once she coaxed him into the boathouse and might have gotten a fuck out of him but he was late for a rendezvous with the director's wife. All other times he was too busy, going here and there and always winding up in the empty bunkhouse with the wife and he forgot about Linda as if she had been an old pair of pants that had gotten ripped up the crotch. He was interested only in the new pair, the ones that wrapped so nicely around his hips as he fucked and fucked and fucked. He was sixteen and thought life would be like that always. One night he came five times, twice in her mouth and three times in her cunt. And the next morning, before reveille, he woke to find her sucking on his cock and he fucked her once more, from behind, his hands playing in her cunt as his cock plunged in and out of it, his fingers tweaking her clit.

He didn't know if Linda spent the rest of the summer jacking off against a tree, or what.

And now he realized that he knew why he was thinking of her. He wanted Jenny Roman the same way Linda had wanted him, and now there was as little chance of that happening as there had been, from Linda's view-point, when he started dicking the camp director's wife. It had been completely beyond Linda's control, and now through his own actions Rick had let Jenny Roman get completely beyond his fucking.

He felt slightly sick, out on the bay teaching the kids how to sail. He felt out of it, like he was suddenly too old to take part in fucking young girls. He felt almost as if he would like to slip over the stern and let the ocean envelop him, as if he wanted to fuck the ocean and sink deep into it and never come up.

But when the kid who was fanning the tiller came about suddenly and nearly capsized the boat, Rick grabbed the rod and righted the craft, knowing he didn't want to fuck the ocean at all. That was for losers. He wanted to win. But how?

Chapter 6

Old Mrs. Simpson's idea of a love bed was a single flowered sheet draped over a daybed in the basement rec room of her summer home.

"How do you do?" she asked, shaking Rick's hand at the door as if he were a visiting salesman. She did all of her shopping at home, from clothes to groceries to automobiles. The salesmen brought their suggestions to her and she wrote out lists for them in a cramped, laborious handwriting. She shopped for men the same way. Rick's appointment had been arranged by Elizabeth Cruise, who had become such an ardent advocate for the sale of his prick that he began to think she was getting a commission. He would have liked to have delivered the commission himself, because he was already tired of slack skin and sagging breasts. He would have appreciated even the loose firmness of Elizabeth's body again, and he remembered with fondness the way her thirty-five-year-old breasts still had a lot of life as opposed to the dry, often withered tits of some of his customers.

Mrs. Simpson led him to the rec room, holding firmly to the handrail as she negotiated the stairs. A fall at her age could easily break a hip and Mrs. Simpson knew from bitter experience that old bones mend slowly.

"Please wait," she said. She selected a sheet from the wall closet, began to spread it over the daybed. She looked at Rick again, as if studying his coloring, then back at the sheet. It was covered with fields of yellow daisies. She looked back at Rick, then calmly, taking her time, folded the sheet and returned it to the closet. She returned with one covered with wild strawberries.

She wore only a pink robe, silk, with a white-trimmed ruffle around the neck and wrists. It gathered where she had tied it in front and swept to the floor. She seemed to glide, slowly and carefully, across the floor without moving her feet.

She asked' Rick to disrobe, please. She was a shy woman, and looked away while he took off his clothes.

Nothing happened to his prick, even when he was stark, bare-ass naked.

She turned around when he was finished and studied his body. She blinked. "Would you turn around, please?"

He did so.

"Thank you. Now, please follow me." She led him into the bathroom where a steaming tub of water waited. "Sit right down in that water, young man. It's good for you."

So Rick sat down, the suds reaching to his arm pits. He felt silly as hell, but Mrs. Simpson kept a serious, almost stern, expression on her face and he resisted his impulse to laugh.

Holding a washcloth decorated with strawberries in one hand and a bar of soap in the other, Mrs. Simpson began washing, soaping, washing and soaping. Up over his back, over his shoulders, down his arms, into his arm pits, between his fingers, tickling down his ribs, into the water to wash his thighs, his legs, scrubbing his knees as if he was a recalcitrant child who did nothing but scruff his knees in the road all day. She held his feet out of the water and scrubbed them, down into the furrows between his toes.

By now Rick was enjoying the process and relaxed in the thick foam, the hot water. His body began unwinding from all the tensions of having to keep a hard dick for old ladies he did not really even like.

After his first session with Mrs. Witherdine, he had spent an entire morning with her neighbor, the widow Stone. Widow Stone grew roses as a hobby, something she had taken over from her husband when he died, along with his wealth. She had hated the roses when he was alive because he spent more time with them than with her, but after his death she had become as enamored of them as he had ever been. She enjoyed pouring rose petals over Rick's crotch from a silver vase as soon as he reached full erection and then, with Rick's head hanging over the other side of the bed so he could not watch, she would slip three or four petals into her mouth, wrap the head of his cock with another, and go down on him taking roses and cock into her mouth at the same time.

Mrs. Foley, who lived in the other direction, only liked to be fucked standing up in the kitchen, with her maid pounding on the door in a phony attempt at breaking up the union. Mrs. Foley liked to pretend that she was the maid performing illicit acts while the mistress, played by the real maid, was incensed but helpless on the other side of the door.

Mrs. Morris, as Rick slipped his vaselined cock in and out of her dry hole, kept crying, "I'm too old, I'm too old." Rick had had to close his eyes and imagine Jenny Roman's tanned legs and the wonderful white shorts she had been wearing before he could get off with that one.

He had been back at Mrs. Witherdine's several times, the fucking there increasing in pleasure as they got better acquainted. She had accepted at last the idea that he would enjoy eating her and she let him dive into her muff the last time and he was surprised at how much he really did enjoy it. Mrs. Witherdine had mouthed him as well, but she had yet to allow him to get his rocks off in her mouth. He thought she might go that far the next time, and he knew that if he could come in her mouth she would be far more generous than she already had been. And so far she had been exceedingly generous.

Just as Rick was beginning to drift off in Mrs. Simpson's tub, she instructed him to stand. "I have to wash your ass, don't I?" she asked.

He knelt, like a dutiful son, while Mrs. Simpson soaped the cloth and rubbed it over the cheeks of his ass, then, timidly but forcefully, she made a quick pass through the crack and against his ass hole.

"Now," she whispered, "I have to wash your front, too. That gets dirty, too, don't forget."

So Rick let her wash his crotch. She soaped her hands until they were covered with lather, then she wrapped both sets of fingers around his balls, sliding out to the end of his prick that was mildly excited, like a new rubber hose that was almost firm but certainly could not stand by itself.

She began mumbling, like a chant, "I have to wash this. I have to wash this fucker. It's going to fuck girls, all kinds of them. Going to get hard and stay hard and fuck girls in their cunts, their ass holes, under their arms. Between their fits. Going to get hard and fuck all those girls. Going to fuck their mouths, too. The girls are going to touch it, pet it, kiss it, suck it, going to let it go up their cunts and get all covered with their wetness. It's going to come in them, shoot all its white stuff out of these balls… "

She kept chanting her litany, mumbling, as she soaped his balls and his cock, soap sliding down his thighs into the water. She slid her hand between his legs to wash his ass again, back out the length of his cock that because of her ramblings and stroking had gotten bard at last.

When Mrs. Simpson thought it was clean enough, she rinsed it with cool, glean water, helped Rick out of the tub and rubbed him dry with a towel. Afterwards she stretched him out on the daybed, on the strawberry sheet, and rubbed his body with talcum powder.

He was as clean as he had been the first day of his life, when the nurse handed him pink and crying to his mother.

His erection went away after awhile and. when he was completely dry and powdered, Mrs. Simpson handed him his clothes and fifty dollars and left the room; He let himself out of the house.

He was refreshed from his bath but not relaxed. It was dark already, and he had a date later with Mrs. Witherdine.

The old grand dame had asked for him the night before, but he had had to turn her down because he had already arranged to play rummy with Mrs. Baxter. Mrs. Baxter was willing to pay Rick $75 to play rummy in the nude. The loser had to pour tea in the sitting room.

So Rick had had two days without an orgasm. He thought there was a good possibility that he might go out of his mind. He did not really want to fuck Mrs. Witherdine, he did not even look forward to her sucking him off, if indeed she would do that. He began wondering what in hell gigolos do for holidays, vacations. Gigolos must need them even more than working people. He had already made a small fortune but he felt that he was on a treadmill and since he had already made contacts for the winter in Florida he was concerned that he would find the same treadmill there. He was not sure he could lie still while another old lady tickled his ass with a feather.

He knew that he needed to reinvigorate his body, and the only way he knew to do that was with a young girl. An old lady would not do. Not even the best of the lot, Mrs. Witherdine. He thought of dropping in on Mrs. Cruise, but he thought that even she might not be all that he needed.

He walked down the deserted roadway until he came to the junction with the road that led to the main high-way. A phone booth stood there, lighted like a beacon to a traveler lost in a sea of darkness.

He fished in his pocket for a dime but found only two fifty-dollar bills and three twenties. And two cents.

When he realized that he did not even have anything as useful as a dime, he knew he had to see Jane. She was coldly practical and could tell him if he was really being stupid or not. And she had those fine uneven tits that he wanted to feel again. He did not want to treat her as shabbily as he had treated Linda Long. He wanted to do something nice for someone, at last, and he wanted it to turn out nice for him too. If he would go to the party Jane had invited him to, which happened to be tonight, he probably could get into her again and he could feel already the tight way she pumped the muscles in her vagina. He wanted to kiss her smooth, glassy stomach and slide his fingers across her firm little ass that had not yet fallen down around her rear thighs.

He heard a car approaching around the turn. When the lights appeared, flashing through the beach brush, Rick stepped to the edge of the road and waved. The car speeded up, passed by, and kept going.

Rick then remembered that sometimes dimes were returned in pay phones and people neglected to pick them up. He hurried to the booth and checked the return slot but it was empty.

He was stuck. He had nothing to do except return to the resort, and he would have to pass Mrs. Witherdine's house and he might just as well turn in at her back door and walk dutifully up the back stairs, following Marie, and when they were alone he could plunge up to his balls into the old lady and he could make himself come by imagining it was Jenny's cunt instead. Right now, he imagined, Jenny was snuggled up to her teddy bear in some frilly bed. He thought he might be able to fuck the great-aunt if he could persuade himself in the dark that it was the grand-niece.

Just as he started walking he heard another car. He stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms. The lights picked him up, hurt his eyes, but he refused to budge and the car slowed down, braked, and stopped.

Trying to appear harmless and innocent, Rick walked to the driver's window. Inside, a woman, driving alone, looked middle-aged and frightened.

"What is it?" she asked, worried. "An accident?" Her voice was full of hope that someone else had had bad luck and she herself would not be raped.

"Not an accident," Rick said. He hoped the woman would not be startled and run over his feet trying to escape. "I only need a dime. I need to call a friend and I'm stuck without a dime."

"You need money?" she asked, still frightened.

"No, no. Just a dime. For the phone, Ma'am."

The "ma'am" seemed to win her over. It was as if she had been waiting to see if Rick had manners or not. She suddenly became alert, moved quickly, found her purse on the seat beside her and opened it up.

"A dime," she laughed. "Is that all? Just a dime?"

"That's all," he said.

The woman looked at him again. Her hands kept working around in her purse, searching for the small thin coin, but her eyes looked out at Rick, and down his frame.

"You smell nice," she said. She found the dime and closed her purse, but she did not give it to Rick.

"Thank you," Rick said, cursing Mrs. Simpson and her damn imported soap.

"Have a big date?"

"Uh, yes. A date, that's right."

She held the dime out the window finally and when Rick tried to take it she held onto it a second too long. He was afraid he would have to jerk it out of her fingers. He tugged a little, and she held on.

"Is it a date you have to make? Or do you think you could break it?"

"No," he said, knowing now what the woman's problem was. She had been alone too long, or was divorced, or her husband was sleeping too soundly after too many gin-and-tonics. She was restless, crawly down between her legs. "I have to make the date. Sorry," he added.

She released the dime, rather sadly. "I'll wait here," she said, "in case your girl is not at home."

Rick stepped into the phone booth. "Okay," he called back. "Be a good idea."

He slid the dime in the slot, heard its magical clinking of freedom, and dialed Jane's number.

Like a miracle, she answered. "Hi," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Is that you, Rick?"

"It's me."

"I don't believe it."

"It's me."

"Where?"

"Phone booth, at the junction."

"What are you doing there?"

"Calling you. You doing anything?'

"As a matter-of-fact,. I am. Why are you trying to call me up when I haven't heard from you for a month."

Rick looked out the glass window at the woman who still waited in her car. He said, "Hey, I can't kid around all night, I only had one dime and I had to beg for it. Isn't this the night of that big party you told me about when we were on the boat?"

"That's what I'm doing tonight, I'm going to it."

"Yeah, well, that's what I'm calling you about." He paused a moment, then for a second he was afraid she had hung up on him, or they had gotten disconnected somehow. Then he heard her breathing into the other end as if she was still mad. "I don't blame you for being sore, but I'm really stuck tonight, out here in the middle of nowhere, and I want to see you very much and I'd like to go to that party with you."

"You liar," she said.

"Well, if you won't talk to me, I may as well hang up."

She laughed. He liked the sound of her laughter. It was young, and full of spunk. Tinkly, joyful, the sound of a happy girl with her whole life ahead of her.

He said, "Will you pick me up? Hey, will you, I'm lonesome?"

She teased him. "Don't you have a date tonight? Couldn't you line up one of your benefactresses tonight? Having an off night? Got your period, or something?"

"I'll tell you all about it. Listen, Jane, it's not what it's cracked up to be. Come on over here and pick me up and I'll let you in on the secret."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Rick hung up the phone without saying anything more. He knew if he talked too long he might only make her mad and she might refuse to come for him. He walked back to the car.

The woman said, "I guess she was home."

Rick nodded. "She'll be by to pick me up right away. Maybe," he suggested, "we could make it another night?"

The woman started her car. "Sorry, buddy, tonight was your night."

She drove away. Her tail lights looked like red cat's eyes, laughing at him, diminishing in the dark.

Chapter 7

Jane's first question after Rick slid into her car was, "How is the easy life going?"

Rick looked at her a long time. She had made wonderful love with hind on the sailboat, but he had not called her since or made any effort to get in touch with her. She had become another Linda in his life. He thought he would like to make it up to her, in some way, and perhaps by making it up to Jane he could also ease his conscience somewhat about Linda, far away now but still nagging in the back of his mind. "It's going great," he lied. "I'm making a fortune and there's nothing to it."

As Jane drove along the narrow road, she laughed at him. "What were you doing out here at the junction this time of night? You know, life isn't as easy as you make believe it is."

He acted surprised. "You mean that?"

"Come on, Rick. Anybody can see right through you. You're having a miserable time. You're not fun anymore."

"I've gotten serious," he said, not knowing what else to say. "I've settled down to a career."

"If it's so great, how come you didn't rescue me from a life of setting tables and clearing dirty dishes? I had the impression that as soon as you got organized with the ladies you were. going to find a few that wanted a little female companionship, or maybe a threesome."

He looked at her a long time, trying to decide whether or not she was serious. He decided that she was kidding, that she knew what a lousy summer Rick had gotten himself into and that she wanted no part of it. A long sigh escaped his lungs as if he were an old pioneer who found it hopeless to explain to the youngsters exactly how it used to be in the old days.

"It's shitty," he said. "It's a lousy life."

"That's the first true thing I think I've ever heard you say. What went wrong with your great plan?"

"I don't know. I think the plan was all right, it all worked just like it was supposed to. It's just that I've gotten so damn horny I can't seem to stand it anymore."

"With all the women you've been getting? According to rumor, that is."

"I've been getting a lot, maybe that's the trouble. Quantity with damn little. quality." He looked at her. Her young breasts were firm. She wore only shorts and a triangular cloth over her breasts, tied around the neck and waist. She wore no brassiere since her breasts vibrated a little as she maneuvered the steering wheel. He thought he sensed the nipples firming as he looked at them. Her body was altogether tight, no part of it dangled in loose folds of soft flesh. Her hair was thick, blond, and he remembered the strength of her cunt, its depth, the excitement that had rippled his body as Jane had kicked off her shorts that time on the boat, his almost breath-taking sensations as he bad gently Iain over her, his balls grazing the hair over her Venus mound.

"Isn't it Easy Street," she asked, "what you wanted?"

"It is Easy Street, and is what I wanted, I guess, but there are times when I want something else." He made the mistake of laying his hand on Jane's bare thigh.

She moved his hand back to his own lap.

"I won't let you make love to me again," she said, sadly. "I did once, and I liked it a lot. An awful lot. But I just can't let you do it to me again. You're like a drug. I could get addicted to you and I don't want to. If you stay with the old ladies, you just won't have time for anybody else and I can't afford a part-time boyfriend."

Rick thought he noticed a weak link in her theory. "I'd be going away to school again at the end of summer anyway, even if I wasn't going with the old ladies. Some of whom, you might be interested to know, aren't so old in bed."

"I'm not interested."

"Anyway, I couldn't be anything but a part-time boyfriend. Since I'd be going back to school. Why can't we just have something going for the summer, then call it quits in the fall, like adults."

"I don't want it, that's why. I thought we had a chance, earlier, but I don't want it now. Thanks anyway. You stay with your old ladies this summer and see if you want to go to Florida with them, or if you'd rather go back to school."

Rick had thought he was close to making up his mind in the interests of higher education, but she was making him mad enough to chase off to Florida in pursuit of the sixty-year-old quail.

The party was not what Rick had expected. It was better.

Held in one of the older houses on the inland side of the highway, away from the wealthy section, the party seemed to have attracted every person in the area under the age of twenty-five. As if they had all decided to get it together for one night, rich and poor alike, as if they had all gotten fed up with the artificial separations imposed by their parents and guardians and said to hell with all that crap.

Not only were all the waitresses from the resort on hand, but so were the kids who sold popcorn, the gas-station attendants, and kids Rick had never seen except when they stepped out of their father's yachts to order more liquor. And what was more surprising, they were all talking to each other and seemed to be having a good time.

Rick took a can of beer from a tub filled with ice. It fizzed when he opened it and the brew tasted cold and clear. It was… well, he tried to find the right word… it was good, delicious… no, there was no way to describe it other than that it was very refreshing. He had drunk so many absinthes, brandies, cordials, old lady drinks for so long that a good long drink of cold beer tasted like a breath of fresh air.

He wondered if Mrs. Witherdine had given up on him yet and gone to bed, or if she was impatiently pacing the floor. He imagined briefly that tonight might have been the night she would have swallowed his load, let him come in her mouth while he held her by the ears, but the idea of traipsing up her back stairs after Marie and going in and out the back way like a delivery boy turned him off.

Jane left him as soon as they arrived. Rick began to circulate, carrying his beer. All the girls were pretty, he thought, but maybe he had a prejudiced viewpoint since he hadn't had a young cunt in his arms for so long. He was indeed hungry for one, and he thought he saw one he wanted but while she was talking to a boy in the corner, the boy who ran the carousel for the little kids while their mothers cavorted on the beach, she squatted down on her heels and he leaned into the corner slightly and she pulled out his penis and started sucking on it. Rick turned away quickly, rather shocked and embarrassed but pleased as well. If it was going to be that kind of party, he thought, let it begin with me.

When someone touched his elbow, he jumped as if he had been hit with an electric shock.

When he turned and recognized Jenny Roman's long aristocratic face smiling at him with her perfect teeth, her mouth that looked sweet enough to bite, he nearly suffered a severe brain dislocation. He had been thinking hard about a fuck, and suddenly his most desirable fuck appeared in front of him and she reminded him instantly that he was standing up her great-aunt, his passage through the old lady's vagina onto Easy Street secure if he did not screw it up.

She waited for Rick to speak and when he didn't, she asked, "How's Auntie?"

"I don't know," he said. "You probably see her more than I do."

"I might see her more often, but you see more of her, I'm sure."

"I haven't seen her this week at all."

"Oh, really?" Jenny acted surprised. "Well, I suppose you've been very busy with other details of your work."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you still have time to teach sailing?"

"It's my job, you know. Sure I have time for it."

Jane, having seen them talking together, crossed the room to join them. It was her only chance to show rich Jenny Roman that little Jane the waitress could date Rick Temple, the famous gigolo.

Everyone ignored the boy getting his cock sucked in the corner. When he started pumping fast and leaned against the wall, those closest to him turned their backs so as not to be obvious about the kid getting his rocks off.

Jenny looked at Jane, who stood looking very sweet in her shorts and the silk shawl tied over her bare breasts. Jenny looked back at Rick. "When are you going back to school?"

"I'm not sure."

Jane said, "He's not going back. I told him he's stupid. You agree?"

The girls smiled at each other. They had more in common than simply physiognomy. Despite their differences in wealth, they might have been friends had they known each other except as waitress and customer. Both were open and forthright and both thought Rick was making a fool of himself acting like a grown-up gigolo.

"Yes, I agree," Jenny said. "He's not only stupid if he doesn't go back to school, he's a damn fool."

"What do you two care," Rick asked, "what I do?"

Jane said, "We like you." She looked at jenny and changed it to, "At least I do. Or did. I'm a waitress and I'll be one for a long time, but you've got a chance to do something else and if I were you I'd take it. Don't take the easy way out."

Rick looked at jenny, but he had little hope that she would help him.

"She's right," Jenny said. "If you stay with what you're doing, keep pretending that you like it, you're a damn fool."

Rick wanted to tell them that he was almost ready to agree with them, that he didn't care about the money he was paid for letting Mrs. Simpson wash his balls, but the words stuck in his throat. He felt that would be almost like saying he was a virgin, had never been able to get a girl.

He looked at Jane and jenny and wanted to be able to kiss them from their eyes to their knees. If anything, Jenny's breasts were even nicer than Jane's. Probably the result of better nutrition when she was a child. Their bodies curved out at the hips, slanted down toward that fine mysterious place between their legs.

Jenny suddenly got tired of talking to her great-aunt's gigolo. "Oh hell," she said in her upper-crust accent, dismissing Rick's foibles as so much child play. "Jane, why should we give a damn whatever the hell he wants to do. It's his life to screw up. Come on." She took Jane by the arm. "Let's get acquainted."

Rick knew his chances by now of getting into jenny's pants were nil. He did feel that he had a small chance of getting into Jane's, so he said, "Jane, when you're ready to go I'd like a ride back to town."

Jane stopped moving away. She came back to stand in front of him. "I'll loan you a dime, if you need one. Maybe you can call Mrs. Cruise. Maybe she would like to give you a ride. Or is it Mrs. Simpson's turn tonight? Or somebody else's? Call them, Rick, not me." She walked away, arm in arm with jenny.

Jenny smiled back over her shoulder as only the rich can smile. "Tell Auntie hello for me, won't you, Rick? I'd appreciate it."

Rick stood fuming with anger as he watched them walk away.

He watched Jane's ass and imagined it naked again. He thought of calling after her and reminding her that one of her fits was smaller than the other, but he stopped himself when he realized that even he wasn't that much of a heel. Jane seemed to have gotten over her hang-up, so much so that she now felt strong enough to tell Rick Temple, famous lover, to go to hell.

And he watched Jenny Roman, the rich heiress, and tried mentally to strip her but she stubbornly kept her clothes on and he could only imagine her laughing at him as he struggled vainly with her buttons.

He imagined also Mrs. Witherdine, Auntie herself, fidgeting impatiently as she awaited his arrival. Well, he just wasn't going tonight. He wanted something young, something that would remind him that he himself was only twenty, and he went looking for it.

He saw Shawn Cruise on the edge of the party. Shawn was drinking beer and seemed morose and unhappy. Rick said to hell with him. He got himself another beer and it tasted even better than the first one had. He relaxed more, now that he had given up the idea of trying to force his way into Jane's panties. Instead of making him unhappy, it only freed him to make his way through the crush of young people, talk to this. girl or that one, and try to find one who would do all he wanted for tonight and would forget him in the morning.

He didn't have to look far.

Her name was Emma Buck. She was about seventeen, and her small frame made her seem frail but she stood well in her middie-blouse and jeans and smoked a cigarette as if she had been doing it for a year at least so Rick was confident he wasn't getting a virgin. He hoped she wasn't a virgin. He thought he was tired of virgins. They hoped for so much, and expected so much more. Emma's jeans came only part way up in front and her smooth stomach was exposed with its solitary eye of a belly button.

She had just finished high school, she said. She was going to the University of Rhode Island in the fall. This was her last summer of playing around, she explained, because come September she had to get serious, buckle down, study hard, and be a success. But until then she wanted to have fun., "You look like you're built kind of nice," she said, looking at Rick's frame, at the bulge in his tight pants. "Do you have plans for the rest of the night?"

"No." He took her by the arm and led her toward the door. "But I do have plans for right now."

She laughed. "Good. So do I."

Holding hands and laughing, they walked outside and down a path that led toward the small inlet from the bay. They stopped finally when they were away from the house, near a pile of driftwood.

Rick turned her to him in the dark and brought his lips down across her cool forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and at last to her mouth. She met him with parted lips and a tongue eager for his.

They could hear music from the house, distant and faraway. Occasionally cars passed over the highway bridge at the head of the inlet.

Rick's hands passed down her back, hovered for a moment where her ass began to swell, then he cupped her cheeks and pulled her to him. He: pressed his hardening cock against her crotch and she wriggled against him.

"Oh, I love it," she whispered into his mouth. "I love it.

Her breath was warm and moist, sweet, and she covered his mouth and cheeks with kisses and nibbles.

There were enough stars and a small crescent of a moon overhead that when Rick brought his hands from her ass to open her shirt he could see that her breasts were pointed, did not rise in soft maidenly curves but came almost to direct points and the nipples hid soft and invisible within their large brown circles. He kissed her neck, his hands again on her ass. He bent over and sucked her left breast into his mouth. The nipple rose fast and hard against the thrusting of his tongue. He caught it between his teeth and nipped very gently, then moved his lips across her chest to her other tit and brought its nipple also to a stand.

Emma did not bother, with Rick's shirt. Her hands slipped the end of his belt through the loops and expertly unhooked it. She touched his hard penis through his pants, squeezed it, passed her hands along its length. She unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down and pushed both her hands around his hips to ease his pants toward the sand.

Still holding her ass and kissing her tits, Rick tried to ease Emma down to the ground.

She resisted, but hooked her thumbs in the elastic band of his shorts and pulled them down too. Her cool hands found his cock and she held it against her bare stomach, pulling on it.

Her jeans were held up only by a short row of buttons in front and would have opened as easily as a box of popcorn, but when Rick tried to unbutton the first one she moved her body away. She brought her hand back to cradle his balls in their tight sack.

"You don't think I'm going to fuck here in this sand," she said.

Rick felt a little silly with his pants around his ankles, but her hands on his balls comforted him. "I did have that in mind," he said.

She brought both hands out the length of his prick. "You have a fine cock, it's very hard, isn't it?"

"Listen, Emma, you don't know how hard it can get. You've got fine tits, and I love the way the nipples come up hard when I kiss them. I love your belly button and the way your stomach is hard and tight and I'll bet your cunt is ready, I'll bet it's sweating right now for my cock, you could spread your legs and I could slip right inside you without the slightest problem."

"I know that's true," she whispered. She seemed to want to lean against him again, to thrust her hips against his, but she hesitated. She touched herself between her legs. "You know I'm ready. You know I'm wet for you."

She kneeled at his feet. "I don't want sand in my cunt. I'm simply not going to fuck out here in this sand." She held his cock with her fingers and kissed its tip, licked quickly across the tender underside.

He lifted her up. He didn't want a quick blow job like the kid inside the house. He wanted to fuck. Desperately. "Let's go inside then." He kissed her mouth.

"Hey, hey, big cock. Don't get in a hurry. I'll take you somewhere tonight that will blow your mind. You willing?"

Rick put her hand back on his dick. "You feel that and you know damn well I'm willing."

"Hey, you really want to go. I hoped you would as soon as I saw you at the party. You'd be good, I think. You look like you're all right in bed. Are you?"

"Let's try it, then you tell me."

"Okay. There'll be four, counting you. I won't tell you where we're going, but you'll get enough fucking to last at least until morning. And they pay ten bucks, okay?"

Rick smiled at the thought of fucking for ten dollars. "Who pays?"

"We do it in a room by ourselves, the four of us, and the mistress of the house watches with her boyfriend through a one-way mirror. You still willing? It's ten bucks."

Rick smiled again. He had made over a hundred just for letting Mrs. Moorhead kiss his ass while he stood on his head. "Just one thing," he said, having a sudden fear that he would be led to a secret chamber in Mrs. Witherdine's house and she would burst through the one-way mirror and cut off his balls when she saw him with Emma, "where is the house?"

"Fisherman's Walk."

He relaxed. That was even more exclusive than Mrs. Witherdine's house. "Sure, I'll go." He put his hand between her legs and felt dampness through her jeans.

She quickly knelt again with her mouth forming the timeless O and slipped the round, engorged head into her warm cunt of.a mouth. To Rick's surprise, she swallowed nearly the entire length of it, her lips nibbling along the hard shaft, her tongue pressing against the underside, her mouth sucking at it all.

And just as suddenly she slid her mouth away, his prick bounding up when released.

"Let's go then," she said. "I'm horny enough to jack off."

Rick was more than ready. He shook the sand out of his pants and pulled them up again, tucking his erection down his pants leg. He followed Emma inside, his eyes feasting on the tight globes of her ass as she walked, his imagination running riot at the idea of fucking a young girl again. It was almost as if he had had a glimpse of life at sixty, but had suddenly been reborn.

Chapter 8

Rick was very happy when Emma emerged from the party with Jack and Donna Steel, a set of tow-headed, seventeen-year-old twins. He liked them both right away.

Their hair was so blond it was nearly white. They were both happy kids, probably, Rick thought, because they had been screwing each other for a year, and maybe more. Even though the Steel kids were twins and had similar small frames and bone structure, there was no doubt that Jack was the boy and Donna the girl. Jack had definite masculine characteristics in the way he stood, walked, the tilt of his head. The gleam in his eyes. Donna was soft and purring and her nearly-white hair fell freely over her back. They smiled a lot and laughed and carried on like lovers who were more than willing to allow others to penetrate their inner circle, but the other person would have to understand that afterward it would be Jack and Donna again.

As they slowly walked along the dunes toward the resort area and the exclusive roadway known as Fisherman's Walk, Rick asked jack why he seemed to feel so free with his twin sister, something that was completely forbidden even though the yearning was never denied.

"An accident," Jack said. "It was the week after we turned sixteen. We'd been fooling around with each other since we were about twelve, usual kid stuff you know. A feel here and there, long looks when the other supposedly wasn't looking, sneaking around trying to catch the other one in the shower."

Donna's voice was high and singing. "Remember the time you watched me from the tree house?"

"Never forget it," Jack said.

Rick was surprised to hear them because never before had he heard kids talk so freely and openly about sex.

Donna continued. "We had a tree house outside my bedroom window when we were little kids. We never took it down, even though we never played in it anymore. One afternoon when I was fourteen I locked the door to my room, put on my only two-piece bathing suit and went through the whole bit. I kneeled in the middle of the room and sucked on a half-peeled banana, pretending there was a guy standing over me, making me do it. Like it was his prick, see. You'd be surprised how much sucking on a banana is like doing a job on some guy's dick."

"No, I wouldn't," said Emma.

"When I got tired of that," Donna said, "I pretended the guy ripped off the bottom of my suit and I took it off and lay over the bed with what was left of the banana still in my mouth. Pretending now that there were two guys and I had to suck one while the other fucked me. I didn't have anything to use that I really wanted to shove in my virgin cunt, so I just let my fingers do the walking."

Jack said, "She didn't know I'd gone up to the tree-house. I had a stash of sex books there and used to go up every so often to read them and see how long my dick was. I really got turned on watching her suck on that banana but when she took off her bottom and started wriggling her bare ass all over the bed I almost went crazy. I jerked off three times before she finished."

"But you didn't see me naked," she laughed, "did you?"

"No. That was the damnedest thing. As close as we lived together, I never saw her totally naked from about the time we were two or three and the folks let us take baths together. Once they stopped that we couldn't even get close to each other. I managed to catch flashes of her, a tit now and then, maybe a thigh, and then that day in the tree house I saw her ass and her hairs but not her tits at the same time."

"I hadn't seen you, either," she said. "Don't let anybody think I wasn't trying, though. I saw you that time you changed on the beach, but you had your pants up so fast it was only a flash, about a second, and since it was dark I couldn't really see a thing. You can't count that."

Rick laughed. He walked with his arm around Emma, his fingers tweaking her right nipple. "How did you finally get it together if you never saw each other naked?"

"Like I said," Jack continued, "an accident. Don't forget, we'd been told all our lives that that was forbidden, impossible, that it would either drive us both crazy or get us locked up in jail. Parents will tell a twin brother and sister anything to keep them away from each other. But I think every set of twins wants to do it, and more succeed than fail, I bet.

"But we finally made it, almost by accident, about a week after we were sixteen. Donna had a baby-sitting job and since I had just gotten my driver's license the folks let me drive the car across town to pick her up. It was about ten-thirty when I got there and the people she was working for were late. She had gone through their bathroom and found some rubbers and she gave one to me and told me I should use it if I ever found a girl who would let me have sexual intercourse with her."

Donna was laughing. "That's really what I said. `Sexual intercourse!"

"Anyway, Donna knew that was about as hopeless as my winning the lottery, but she was a little more advanced at sixteen than I was and she definitely had something in mind."

Donna said, "What I did was to call home and tell the folks that Jack had gotten there all right and they didn't have to worry about the car, but the people I was baby-sitting for were late. I asked them what should we do. Naturally they said just to wait till the people got home, that Jack should wait too and we could come home together afterwards. The people came home by eleven, and jack and I left, but we didn't go home."

Jack added, "Since she had called home, the folks didn't expect us until midnight or so."

"We made the best of it," Donna said.

"We drove past the dump grounds to that old dock by the beach there. You know where I mean?"

Emma and Rick both nodded. At one time or another every kid in the area had parked there; it was popular with kids too young to rent motel rooms.

Jack continued the story. The big houses along Fisherman's Walk were appearing up ahead so he hurried to get the story told before they arrived at their "job."

"Nobody was parked there that night, it was winter. Foggy as hell. So anyway, we, parked and Donna undressed in the back seat while I took my clothes off in the front. When I climbed over the seat to be with her, she had put the rubber on the ledge under the back window. I turned on the overhead light so we could at last see each other totally naked and we examined each other checking out where we were the same and where we were different. I had a hard-on like a flagpole, but I couldn't get over Donna's tits, how instead of like mine just laying on her chest hers seemed to raise up and grow and the nipples were just right, perfect, just so." He made two little pinching motions with his fingers.

Donna said, "The first time I touched his cock I couldn't believe how big it was, and probably in my subconscious I remembered how little it had been when we were babies taking baths together and I wasn't ready for how big it was. But did I love it. I knew it was supposed to be that big, and hard, but I couldn't believe it really was. It turned me on, let me tell you."

Emma asked, "Did you suck him, that first night?"

"No, I wanted to, but we were pretty shy even though we touched every part of our bodies. I helped him put the rubber on. We had to figure out how it went, first of all. Once we got it on I held his balls and that was very nice, holding his balls." She gave her brother a playful nudge on the arm. "It was fun, wasn't it? That first time?"

"It's always fun, Sis, but I had a good time that night. We were finally getting it together even though we were just fumbling around starkers in the back seat. Finally I figured out that we had to lay down. I automatically started kissing her nipples and ran my hand up and down her snatch. I didn't know where to put my fingers but when she spread her knees I just sort of slipped in. She was very wet down there and my fingers just went to the right place. I got between her legs and my cock just,naturally went in there too."

"I helped," Donna said, acting as if her feelings were hurt. "I held it, pointed it at the right angle."

"Hell, yes, I'd still be bumping around down there if you hadn't pointed me right. She was a virgin and… hell, we were both virgins. We got each other's cherry that night."

"How many times did you come that night, Jack?" Emma asked. She seemed to think it was a kind of contest.

"Just once. I wasn't smart enough to know we could have fucked till my cock wouldn't stand up anymore. We didn't catch onto that until later."

"He was fantastic that night," Donna said, defending her brother. "He didn't come for about twenty minutes. I thought that was how it always was, so I didn't know anything, just took it for granted and rode his cock until I almost couldn't stand it anymore. He made me come I don't know how many times. It was incredible. I couldn't stop and he just kept fucking me."

Jack explained. "I didn't know how long I was supposed to go. I thought it was normal that I wasn't getting off for so long, and Donna was enjoying it so much that I just held on and' keep screwing. It wasn't hard getting into her since she had stretched her maidenhead so much by jacking off. And once I was in I kept thinking about the damn rubber and if it was going to come off. I was sort of scared too, screwing my own twin sister and liking it so much. Finally when I did come it had built up for a long time."

"I could feel him getting close," she said. "My own orgasms had started again and I pushed up against him as hard as I could, squeezed his cock with my cunt, tried to hold onto it so he couldn't pull it back and forth. I pushed my ass up off the car seat."

"That was what did it for me. Once she pushed up off that seat, pushing her cunt down over my cock, I felt all the floodgates breaking at once and I just fucking well exploded."

"I started to cry when he stopped coming, it was so wonderful."

"It kind of scared us, it was just so incredibly fantastic. We cleaned up and went right home. Good thing, because the folks were waiting up and Dad was about ready to call the people Donna had been baby-sitting for to see if we were all right. We just said they got home late, and everything was fine."

Donna said, "The next day I went to the doctor, made him promise not to tell Mother, and got a prescription for the pill. I started it that day and that very night, while the folks were sitting on the front porch watching the sprinkler go round and round, Jack came into my room and we fucked standing up in the closet, his pants around his ankles and my shorts hanging around one knee. He came right away that time, it was so exciting. After the folks were in bed he snuck back into my room and we fucked on the floor. It took him a long time then, like the first time."

"I liked fucking without a rubber. That was what got me the time in the closet, how slick you were, how easy I went into you."

"Now we do it whenever we can and it depends on the circumstances how fast Jack will take to come. He can come in ten seconds if he has to, like the time in the kitchen, or almost half an hour if we have the time."

"The time in the kitchen," Jack explained, "I was just sitting on my chair minding my own business and Donna came over and sat on me. She didn't have any panties on so I slipped my cock out of my pants and it was hard right away and she sat on it and in about ten seconds I was pumping away. The folks were watching TV in the next room."

"What if you got caught?" Emma asked.

Donna said, "I think the folks know we're screwing. They suspect it, at least. Probably they don't want to know. But we don't do anything like that kitchen deal anymore. Too risky. I think if the folks caught us they'd send Jack away to boarding school."

They walked along Fisherman's Walk.

Mrs. Witherdine might have owned the hilltop that overlooked the resort, but she did not own any of the houses along this exclusive section. These houses were owned by people whose ancestors had been whaling captains and wealthy merchants who had kept their money. If such a breed of monopolists existed, they were even richer than Mrs. Witherdine and more reclusive.

Emma led them through a narrow passageway in a tall hedge, to the side entrance of one of the big old houses. A skinny maid who walked on toothpick legs and silent, slippered feet and looked like a survivor from the Depression let them inside.

Without uttering a word, the maid led them along a narrow corridor that looked to Rick very much like a secret passageway. All the maid lacked to be a sinister figure in a mad-scientist movie was a dripping candle. She motioned for Jack and Rick to use one room, and the girls to go into another.

She poured the boys each a small glass of peach cordial, then went away with the girls.

"What goes on?" Rick asked.

"Be patient," jack said. "She's got to let the hostess know we're here. I was in on one of these once before. Every so often they get a few kids in here and let them screw while whoever owns the house watches from behind a one-way mirror. They can see us but all we can see are the mirrors. And you don't know which mirror it is, because the walls are all mirror."

"Oh oh," Rick said. "I don't know if I'm going to like this."

"You'll like it. Donna can fuck all right, and suck, man she can suck like a vacuum cleaner. She'll make you happy even if Emma doesn't."

"She started to go down on me tonight, then brought me along here. How is she?"

"I don't know," Jack said. "We've never got it off together, but I always wanted to. I look forward to fucking her tonight. She's about seventeen, too, isn't she?"

"I think so," Rick said. At twenty, he was beginning to feel like an old timer.

"Don't worry about anything," Jack told him. "You won't have any problem once we get in that room. With all those mirrors it's like you're fucking a dozen girls at the same time. You'll like it."

The maid returned, came into the room without knocking. She handed each of the boys a long white silk scarf and a thin elastic band. "Please disrobe," she said with a creaky voice, "and wear these as breechcloths." She spoke as dispassionately as if she were asking whether they wanted hot or tepid water in their bath.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and started to strip.

Rick looked at the maid who stood still as if she had no intention of leaving the room before seeing that they were properly clad. Rick hesitated at opening his belt in front of her, then remembered the rules of the very rich: the help was there to help, and any other time they were invisible. Off went his shoes and down came his pants. When he was naked, he slipped the elastic band up his legs and over b is hips, then threaded the long scarf between his legs and under the band, slipping his privates into a pouch at his crotch. Then he looked at the maid who was watching Jack adjust his cock in his breechcloth.

Jack saw her looking at his dick and asked, "Like what you see?" His pubic hair was very light colored, like the hair on his head, and Rick wondered what his twin sister would look like.

The maid spoke out of her thin throat. "Oh yes, I like what I see, young man, but don't be so proud of it, it won't last forever." She stood politely by the door, waiting patiently.

When Jack was ready, the boys nodded to her and she opened the door to let them proceed.

Rick thought they looked like white, young and muscular Indians. The bands around their waists were about halfway between navel and cock. The long scarfs hung low between their legs, down to their knees both in front and back. They smiled at each other and followed the maid down the hallway to another door which she opened and motioned for the boys to enter.

"Here we are," jack said, gesturing for Rick to go in first. "Heaven, here on earth."

As Rick stepped into the mirrored room, he was struck by the image of a dozen girls waiting for him. They all looked naked and for a brief second he thought it was true that there really were a dozen and that they were naked, but the following split second revealed to him that they were dressed as he was, with only a long white silk scarf between their legs, threaded through an elastic band worn very low on their hips. They were naked from the side, from their ankles to the swell of their ass to their hair. Dozens of breasts, nipples, twisted Rick's head to find the real girl and in the following split second he knew there were only two, Emma and Donna, one with brown hair and the other with nearly white hair.

They laughed at his momentary consternation, then stepped forward to greet the boys as Jack closed the door behind himself.

Rick realized that there was no way out of the room. The door itself had a mirror on its reverse side and no handle. Once closed, it could only be found and opened from the other side.

He was locked in with Jack and the girls and he was happy to be here.

Emma stepped off the wide, flat floor mattress and walked toward Rick. Jack crossed to Donna and wrapped his arms around his naked sister. Rick watched Emma's smooth, tanned thighs, the way the scarf caught between her knees and clung to the mound between her legs. Her breasts bounced only a slight degree as she walked, the nipples on the pointed ends quivering. When she reached him she touched his bare arms, his chest and his sides. She touched his naked hips.

He reached for her but she said, "Not yet, wait."

She touched down his bare legs, sliding her hands back up through his crotch, over his fast-hardening cock, up his bare stomach and chest to his neck. "Don't touch me yet," she said. "Don't worry. They can't hear us. They can see us, but the sound doesn't carry through."

Rick was relieved that he could say anything he wanted, but he was still uncomfortable about being watched by someone he did not know. For all he did know, there might have been a dozen uniformed policemen on the other side of the mirror waiting for him to do something illegal to Emma, or to Donna. And maybe as soon as Jack's cock touched his twin sister's forbidden flesh the cops would break through the mirrors and arrest them all. But the idea of Emma and Donna being in such splendid view like this, the many-sided reflections of their young, almost naked bodies, made Rick forget his discomfiture and sink into the rapture of the night.

Later, he could hardly believe that the following two hours were real. That it had actually happened. He remembered it the rest of his life.

He half wanted to watch Jack and Donna because, despite his wide experience, he had never seen anyone else screwing. Once he had gotten a piece in the front seat of a car while a buddy and another girl made it in the back, but he had never watched them. While Emma exchanged her fingers on his body for her Iips and began kissing down his side, exciting Rick until his prick made a huge bulge in the front of his white breechcloth, he watched Donna performing the same dance across her brother's body.

Donna's tits were fuller than Emma's. They rose off her young chest like ripening tomatoes and the nipples were hard and erect, sucking some of the brown circles off the tips. Her white hair fell down her back almost to where her ass swelled, almost long enough to see a part of the white silk caught so seductively between her legs. She crouched in front of her brother and began sliding the silk from between his legs and when his cock bounded into view, hard and long, strangely red to the eye after the white. of the scarf, she opened her sweet little mouth and went over it.

That was all Rick saw, as he did not want to wait any longer.

He put his thumbs on Emma's closed eyes, then skimmed the tips down her cheeks, her throat, her chest, to her nipples. Her tits, pointed as they were, still pointed up. She started to kneel in front of him again and touched the bulging part of his breechcloth, but he took her by her bare upper arms and led her to the floor mattress. "My turn," he said. He no longer cared what invisible faces were watching. He didn't care if an army of policemen were hidden behind the mirrors, or if everybody in the resort were watching in shock. He wanted Emma badly, he wanted her tits and cunt and ass and mouth and he wanted to finish with her so he could have Jack's twin sister. He wanted Donna's hard body, her firm muscles, he wanted to feel her thighs wrapping his hips, his head. He felt hunger for youth, for fucking.

He did not let Emma take off his breechcloth. Instead, he laid her down on her back and sucked first on one nipple, then the other, holding her wrists above her head. Then, still holding her wrists, he kissed down her stomach. When he rammed his tongue into her navel, she twisted her legs to the side, curling from her hips. Rick let go of one wrist, fingered his way down her naked side where he touched the inside of her right thigh and separated her legs.

He looked up once to her face. She was happy, waiting, her mouth open in a semi-smile waiting for what he would do.

He parted her thighs with both hands. While she stroked his hair, Rick gathered some of the silk stretched over her Venus mound between his teeth, carefully avoiding catching' any of her hair, and began pulling it free. It slid easily from under the elastic band. When he had most of it free, he could not only see glimpses of her dark cunt hair but could also smell the moist aroma rising from where it had been captured by the silk. He thought he saw her cunt pulsate as he went down again to gather another bunch between his teeth and finally the silk pulled loose in front and Emma had only the scarf draped through the elastic over her ass.

Rick didn't care about that. In fact, it made her more sexy to have the white, slick material draped there, framing her hot, slightly moist cunt waiting surrounded by pubic hair. She lay on her back, with her knees in the air, and Rick's hands 'slid down her thighs so his thumbs could touch the lips of her cunt. He spread her open and his eyes feasted on the delightful pink folds he found inside. Her clit was hard, throbbing, and as his lips went down into her steaming gash she raised her hips, tightening her thighs, and she grasped him around his ears as his tongue licked the most sensitive part of her body.

She came at once, as if she had been waiting for him to give her such a kiss. Moisture flowed from her cunt, soaking Rick's mouth and cheeks and making him want even more. She pulled his hair, something that had always turned him on, and he raised her ass with his hands, his mouth glued to her reeking cunt, and his tongue darted fast against her clit, in and out, in and out, licking, slurping, loving, tasting, kissing, giving and taking. He thought no more of Jack and Donna, or of the invisible hosts behind the mirror. He yearned only for a longer tongue, a tongue as long as his prick so he could really fuck her with it.

He parted the cheeks of her ass with his fingers. Shudders moaned up and down her body. She cried and gasped. He thrust his tongue farther and farther into her cunt, slipping each time over her clit, pushing against it, forcing Emma into constant waves of delight she could neither stop nor come down from.

Jack, in the meantime, had stripped the white scarf from between Donna's legs so both twins were naked except for the thin elastic band around their waists. With his prick still in his sister's mouth, he lay down over her as she parted her legs and he did as Rick, kissing the cunt of his sweet twin and bringing her, with his tongue licking her out, to a rolling, hard, teenage orgasm.

When Rick slowed his tongue, giving Emma a final thrust into her cunt, he stroked her thighs slowly and evenly to bring her down from the heights. As she subsided, he stood over her on the mattress and hooking his fingers in the elastic waistband pushed the white silk breechcloth down, slid the band over his hips down his legs. He stood naked over Emma, his cock standing out from his groin thick and hard and long, the only one of the four kids to be entirely naked, without even a waist-band.

Emma reached up and wrapped her hand around his still cock, then, seemingly using it for a handhold, she pulled herself up until she could slip it between her lips, sucking it far into her throat. Then, still holding onto it with her mouth, she lay back down as Rick kneeled over her.

He pulled out of her mouth and moved down between her spread thighs. As he wiped the swollen head through Emma's thick bush surrounding its pink, pulsating target, he glanced at Donna and saw her crouching over her brother, her bands between her legs spreading her cunt lips as jack guided his cock up into her. As it disappeared, Donna rolled her head back, her white hair reaching almost to the floor over her ass. Then she lowered herself on Jack's thighs, took his cock all the way, and Rick could see no more except the humping of their bodies.

He glanced down between himself and Emma and saw his own prick disappearing into her bush, gliding easily into the hole she had so willingly prepared. He felt the wet sides of her cunt, felt it pulling him, yearning for him, sucking him inside.

It took only a few minutes of stroking for Rick to reach his zenith. Emma clutched at his ass, spreading his cheeks, as Rick stood on his toes and rested the weight of his body on the palms of his hands. He did not touch her body anywhere else, just at the crotch, and he kept banging his prick into her as fast as he could. Waves passed over her body and she wriggled as she had when he performed so well with his mouth\ but the waves seemed stronger this time, as if they came from deeper within her body. When she sensed that Rick was getting close, she whispered, gasped in his ear, "When you want to come, pull out of me. Let them see you coming. They want to see it."

Her voice slowed Rick for another minute. He imagined the invisible faces watching, though, and his heights came roaring back, flooding his ears, and he fucked his ass into her, whipping her, the cheeks of his ass held tight as he neared the edge, as Emma grasped them even harder to pull them apart, to hold him far up inside her. He pumped harder, faster, thrust further up her cunt until he thought he must be banging her heart. Maybe, he thought, if he pumped hard enough his come could spurt out of her mouth. He pumped fast, hard, in and out, in and out, until he felt himself breaking over the edge and he whipped his cock out of her, still holding his body in the air on his toes and palms, and he thrust his hips forward over her mound, between her legs, as his come spurted out, out in long fast loops to her tits, her chin, long lines of white streaking her belly and over her nipples. Emma moved under him quickly and caught his cock in her mouth and sucked the rest of it out of him, pumping on his cock until his spasms were finished, his cock relaxed.

Jack and Donna, finished themselves, were sitting up watching Rick's performance. When Rick collapsed at the side of the happy Emma, Donna crept over to him and swept his face and chest with the long hair that fell over her neck and young tits. She kissed Rick's nipples. She kissed down his stomach to his belly button. With one hand she played with his balls. His cock began to stiffen again, as she rolled it back and forth with her thumb.

Jack rolled over to Emma, the girl he had never screwed but wanted to. He kissed her mouth by way of introducing his friendly notions, then urged her to stand on her hands and knees and he knelt behind her, reached between her spread legs, opening her cunt, and he guided his swiftly rising cock into her. Donna and Rick watched him ease inside, watched Emma squirm back toward her animal lover. Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and fondled her cunt in front, his ass beginning to pump away at her from behind.

Rick turned his attentions to Donna.

Her small, girlish face smiled down at him. He enjoyed the cool sensations of her feminine fingers on his balls and when she began slowly to stroke up the shaft of his cock he raised his head enough to suck one of her fine nipples between his teeth. He let her go abruptly, urged her to lie down, and when she did he rolled her onto her stomach.

He studied her smooth back, the way her hair fell in piles around her neck. He moved his fingers down her spine to the crack of her ass. She was a fine-looking girl, with tight but swelling cheeks on her ass. Rick examined where her ass tucked under to become long strong thighs that led down to the tender coverts behind her knees. He stroked the calves of her legs, then back up the rear of her thighs to her ass and he petted the smooth round cheeks, then slid one hand into the warm place between her legs and he worked a finger into her cunt from behind. He held one of her legs and turned her over, keeping his hand in her cunt, and he kissed the inside of her thighs, all the time continuing to stroke her cunt. He found her clit with his middle finger and petted it.

She was still moist from where her juices had flowed around her brother's dick, along with some of his come still inside her since he had been unable to pull out in time to entertain the hosts. Rick crossed her strong, large Venus mound with his lips, tasted her smells, biting her hair.

He raised her ass with his hands and kissed down the length of her vulva, his tongue darting into her cunt from top to bottom and back to the top.

Her body was setting him on fire. She was extremely small compared to her twin who, being male, was much more muscular. Rick wanted to get his cock into her body and he did not want to pull out when his seed began to burst.

Without hesitating, he took his tongue from her cunt and passed it to her mouth. He filled the empty place between her thighs with his cock, worked it slowly far up into her, probing her secret places. When he was fully into her, he gathered her into his arms and rose to his knees, keeping her impaled on his cock, then he rose to his feet.

He spun slowly around, being careful not to lose his balance. Donna cried, "It's too much, I can't take it, oh God give it to me. Give me more."

She squirmed down against his hips to drive even more of his cock into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed the weight of her body to drive her down onto him. She was open enough that Rick thought if it was physiologically possible he could have gotten his balls into her as well as the entire length of his thick cock.

Jack and Emma turned from their own fucking to watch.

Donna let her head fall back and her hair swept the floor. She relaxed her grip on his neck and held tight to his upper arms. Rick held her by the small of her back, her ass pushed hard against his balls, her thighs riding high on the front of his stomach.

Rick began thrusting motions with his hips, shoving further into her as she squirmed down on him. She cried, her mouth gasped open, her eyes became unfocused as her own orgasms released pent-up blood all over her body. She rode it out, brought it up again, and passed beyond to somewhere she had never been before.

Rick kept pumping with his hips. The walls of her cunt gripped him tightly, a smooth silk and soaking cunt taking all of his cock he could swell inside her and his second orgasm came faster and harder than his first. He began spitting far further into Donna than anyone ever had before.

There was no doubt on Jack and Donna's mind, nor could there be any in the eyes of the invisible hosts, that they were seeing the emptying of a young man's seminal fluids, the spasmodic shooting off into the most gorgeous, tightest girl Rick had had his cock into in months, and that his cock had swelled almost to bursting before his balls broke and he shot her full.

As he lowered Donna and himself back to the mattress, his own come began oozing out of her cunt, over his balls.

Rick pulled out of her and lay on his back. Donna hovered over him with her hands holding her hair out of the way and she licked his prick with her tongue, cleaned his balls.

Emma crept over and as Jack continued humping into her from behind she slid Rick's limp cock into her mouth and cleaned the head and all the shaft.

When Donna finished with Rick's balls, she lowered her cunt over his mouth and Rick licked the blending of their mutual orgasms off her cunt lips. When they were both clean, they curled up in each other's arms like lovers and rested, with Emma still sucking on Rick's cock, gently because its head was tender, as Jack continued stroking into her from behind.

Jack had the only hard-on in the mirrored room now, since he had not yet come a second time.

Finally Emma let go of Rick's cock with her mouth and urged Jack onto his back. Kneeling over him, she took Jack's long thin penis between her lips and moved her own legs over his face so he could reach up between her. thighs with his mouth and suck on her as well.

Rick and Donna petted each other for several minutes. He stroked her fine breasts, kissed her neck and under her tits, back up to her ears. Her hair smelled clean as if it had recently been shampooed. He saw her small tongue come part way between her lips. For the first time since he had come into the room, he was aware of the mirrors and watched the reflections of Jack and Emma eating each other and he watched his own body stretch along the incredibly fine body of the naked twin sister. Without his having to will it, or even hope for it, his cock began to fill again, and swell. Donna brushed her soft sweet hair across his balls, between his thighs, and she stuffed his growing organ into her cheek and did not stop sucking until it once again was proud and heady at full stand.

Jack, still unable to come a second time, crawled with Emma to Rick's side. The four of them lay together, entwined, fondling each other and stroking. Jack slipped a finger into each of the girl's asses and Rick petted each of their cuts while they alternated sucking on the boys' cocks.

Jack said, "Isn't Emma fine? I enjoyed fucking her almost as much as anybody I ever fucked. No offense, naturally, Sis."

Donna mumbled, around Rick's cock, "Naturally."

Emma said, "I'm glad you like my cunt. I've wanted to see your prick, hold it in my hand, have it up me, ever since Donna and I were in the same PE class in high school. I used to shower with her and while she soaped her cunt and tits I would imagine it was you in the shower with me, her twin brother, and you were soaping your balls and your dick that would be hard and long like it is. I wanted to get in the shower and soap it with you, stuff it up me."

Jack took his cock, soaking wet with his sister's saliva, and worked it slowly into Emma's ass. It took a minute or so until Emma could stand to have Jack move back and forth inside her rectum but his cock stayed moist and he began slowly to fuck her.

Rick slid between her legs and eased his prick into Emma's cunt, and as he slid up her he felt the swell of Jack's prick through the thin wall separating her cunt from her ass.

Jack and Rick found each other's rhythm and began pumping together and Emma lay still, her hands grasping Donna's thighs, and moved only her hips and legs. Rick reached Donna's nice tits with his mouth and sucked on them while he fucked Emma's cunt; while Emma absentmindedly began thrusting her tongue along Donna's cunt, and as Jack closed his eyes and slid his cock in and out of the tight asshole.

Jack came first, his orgasm bursting inside Emma. The thrusting sensations of his strong orgasm brought Rick on again and he stroked half a dozen more times into Emma's slick, greasy, tight cunt, hard, deep, his own orgasm mounting in his thighs. He fucked more and it mounted higher until suddenly, without warning, on the final stroke, he withdrew and pumped his jism high, his hips thrusting forward with each spasm, high looping arches that Donna reached with her mouth, Emma's mouth still scissored against her cunt, and Donna swallowed the come down inside her, licking the head of Rick's cock for more.

As they collapsed together, laughing, relieved, exhausted, the lights blinked twice.

Emma said, "That's all, folks. Come again some other day."

Rick laughed, with a mouthful of her nipple. "I was just getting warmed up."

In reality, he thought be was finished. He had had his young girls. He had had better fucking on strong young Venus mounds than he had ever hoped for and he thought that if he was lucky it would last him for a long time and he could go back to work now at his chosen profession, fucker of old ladies, gigolo, hired cock.

What he did not know was at the same time as he was mouthing Emma's nipple and saying that he had barely gotten warmed up, his chief benefactress was rising from her seat behind the one-way mirror.

"It's too bad," the hostess said, clinging sexily to the bare arm of her male lover, "that your good friend was unable to join us tonight. I had hoped to meet him, you've spoken so highly of him."

Mrs. Witherdine rose alone. Her eyes were cold but her voice betrayed none of her inner emotion. "It is too bad, Mrs. Howard. I had hoped he could join us. But now I must go. I know how crowded it is, with three instead of two, at our ages."

Mrs. Howard did not try to persuade her friend to stay.

"Thank you for the invitation," Mrs. Witherdine said.

Mrs. Howard said, "Perhaps your good friend will be waiting for you at your home. Perhaps he was merely detained a short while"

"Thank you." Mrs. Witherdine shook hands with Mrs. Howard. She looked briefly at the lover, a young man cut a little too femininely for her own tastes. She shook hands with the lover, feeling rather strange since the young man was standing naked. "Good night," she said again.

She left. Her chauffeur drove her back to her hilltop mansion where she put out the lights and went to bed alone.

Chapter 9

Rick woke bright and early the next morning. The orgy on Fisherman's Walk had taken most of the starch out of, him and his morning erection went away as soon as he took a leak. He felt only mildly horny thinking of Emma and Donna. Especially Donna, he thought. Their bodies had done him a lot of good, banging his belly against their tight little frames, feeling their firm and strong thighs grasping his hips had given him back his own strength.

They had given his youth back to him. And he chuckled to himself when he thought of the crisp new ten-dollar bill the skinny maid had slipped into his hand as he pulled on his clothes. It seemed to him that the less you did as a gigolo the more you were paid, and the better the fucking the more meager the money.

Before breakfast he walked down to the beach. Walking along the edge of the ocean, barefoot, his feet splashing in the cold, gentle waves that washed ashore, he thought about his future, about his career as a gigolo for old ladies. He imagined rows of them waiting on satin sheets, four-poster beds in expensive Miami hotels and New York apartments, on the Riviera and the Mediterranean shores of Greece. Widows of oil magnates, men who had polluted the very ocean he now waded in. He would plunge into holes those men had plunged into until their deaths. He would please women whose men had never been able to please them. He would reap the benefits of all their collected wealth. Speculators in slum real estate. He would let their widows gum on his cock, suck his come out of his balls. He would get rich in the baths of women whose husbands had made fortunes by raising the price of bread.

And occasionally, when he needed it, he would seek out their grand-daughters in their virgin beds and take a young sleek and firm body, a tight cunt and a virgin mouth. It would revive him so he could plunge once more into the peculiar, inventory the minds of old ladies could think up for him to do.

He gave his classes in the morning and by noon he remembered the promise that Mrs. Witherdine might do more for him than she ever had. He felt horny for her mouth. He was greedy. He wanted to see if she would really suck him off and swallow his come and he thought if she did he could make an easy hundred, plus perhaps a bonus if he shot off hard against the back of her throat. And he could be back at the club in time for his two o'clock class.

Marie was surprised to see him at the front door.

"You'd better come around back," she gasped. "Missus don't like for you to be coming in the front."

Rick stepped past her. He wished he had worn a hat so he could have handed it to her and reminded her that she was the maid and he the guest. The honored guest. "She won't mind this time," he said. "Don't worry about it, Marie. I'll handle the Missus for you."

Marie's exasperation turned to surprise. "You will? Mr. Temple, I'd like to see that. That's something that I just don't think can happen."

Rick waited while Marie struggled up the main stairway to inform Missus that her lover was on the premises.

He thought it was much nicer and more formal coming in the front door.

A tall pier mirror with carved walnut frame stood beside the entrance to the parlor. Rick looked through the wide door and saw plush, soft furniture that had been reupholstered probably every twenty-five years of its existence. A fireplace with a carved marble mantel stood against the far wall and over it was another pier mirror, this one mahogany. He thought that these people had really know how to live in the '70s and '80s, and that their descendants had had more than common sense to be able to hold onto the wealth all that time since.

Marie gestured from the top of the ornate staircase. She wore a smile of vindication on her face. "Missus said for you to come right on in, Mr. Temple."

Rick grinned up at her, then took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he paused beside the maid to pinch her black soft cheek. "You're all right, Marie, you know that?"

"Sure I do. Always knew that. It's you that has the problem."

Rick studied her a moment trying to understand what she meant. He decided it was hopeless, that she was as fathomless as others of her race and that she had meanings in her speech that no one without the precise experience of her kind could ever hope to understand.

He knocked on the door of Mrs. Witherdine's office-bedroom-sitting room.

"Come in," she said.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He walked quickly to her side and kissed her, before she could get to her feet.

She pushed her light-weight chair behind her and rose. "Goodness," she said, "you don't even let Marie show you in anymore?"

"Well, I'm in kind of a rush, Mrs. Witherdine. I have to be back at the resort for a two o'clock class."

"You'd better hurry." Mrs. Witherdine looked at a very small, very expensive watch hanging between her breasts on a very tiny and frail gold chain. "It's already a few minutes after twelve."

"I wasn't able to come by last night, like I said I would." He kissed her lips again, but she did not respond.

"I was really hung up yesterday," he said, laughing a little and shaking his head. "Took three kids in my class out in the bay to show them how to set a spinnaker in the wind and wouldn't you know it the damn wind died on me. We didn't get back in until way after dark, then because it was so late I had to take them home." He paused to see how his story was going over, then pressed ahead. "One of them lives way up the other side of the city and I didn't get back until after midnight and I thought that was too late to come over."

"What do you want to do now? You know I work through the day unless I call you."

"Yes, but since I had a little time free, a couple hours, and since I haven't seen you in over a week, well. And our last two appointments I haven't been able to keep."

"Why did you lie?"

Rick was taken by surprise. "What do you mean? I was out in the boat."

"Now you are lying again. Don't keep it up, it's only foolish."

"What do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. Stop lying to me."

"I haven't been. I was caught with no wind… "

Mrs. Witherdine moved away abruptly. She made a cutting motion with her hand, forcing Rick to swallow the rest of his sentence.

"I did not invite you here today," she began. "I especially did not invite you here today to lie to me. I can-` not abide liars. You not only failed to appear for our last two appointments, you have stood here today and lied to me three times about what happened to you last night. Until you lied to me, I did not care a whit where you were or what you did last night. The fact that I had expected you and you did not appear was disappointing to me, of course, but I understand that being your age you cannot be expected to be punctual, remember appointments, or resist greater temptations. You haven't had the upbringing for that, nor do you have the experience or background to submit to your responsibilities. I excuse that."

She paused for a mere moment to allow Rick to blink his eyes.

Then she continued. "What I cannot abide, or excuse, is your lying to me. I cannot abide a liar. I have no time to waste on a liar."

"Why do you… " Rick could not finish the sentence. It seemed to him that his tongue was filling his throat.

She said, "You looked very handsome in your white silk breechcloth."

Rick felt weak from his knees to his chin.

"You performed very well. My hostess informed me that the four of you performed for only ten dollars apiece. Is that true?"

Rick raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and hopelessness. He thought he still might be able to bluff it through. "It wasn't really what I wanted to do last night, but I got talked into it."

"It shouldn't have taken much talking. The girls were very young and exceptionally beautiful. And I must say it was exciting to watch the twins perform, though I confess I watched you most of the time."

"I'm sorry I lied to you."

"So am I. I'm also sorry you did not appear last night. You were to have been my guest "

"It would have been a good show," Rick said bravely, "but they'd have been short one actor, wouldn't they."

"I doubt if they would have had trouble finding someone to take your place. The streets are full of summer kids who would perform like that, or try to, for ten dollars."

Rick realized his case was nearly hopeless. He said again, "Well, I am sorry I lied."

"So am I," she said, "as I said before. It seems we are covering ground we have already covered." Her voice was cold.

Rick looked at her body. She wore the same light-weight silk robe she had worn the first time he had come to her house. He thought again how pleasant she was in bed, how grateful, how experienced. He desired her, he thought with surprise. She stood silently before him, until he asked, "What would you like me to do?"

"Get out. Don't come back."

He blinked. "Do you mean that?"

"I have never said anything I did not mean." She pressed a hidden button under the leaf of the frail antique French desk.

Marie came inside from where she obviously had been waiting just the other side of the door, waiting to aid in the expulsion.

Rick held out his hand to Mrs. Witherdine, but she did not accept it. "Good-bye," he said.

"Good-bye," she said.

Marie showed Rick down the back stairs. He followed without a complaint.

In the kitchen, he said, "You were right, Marie. She is pissed off beyond belief. It was my problem."

Marie stopped him at the back door. "The only mistake you made was lying to her. She actually got a kick out of watching you fuck them little girls, once she thought about it."

"How can you be in this business, Marie, and not lie?"

"You can't, so maybe you ought to get out of the business." She stood near him. "You remember you once said you might have something for me? Well, let me see what it might have been."

Rick decided what the hell. He might as well let the maid have it, now that he was finished forever with the mistress. He unhappily thought of all the others he would have to deal with: Mrs. Simpson and her bath tub, all the other crazy ones. Mrs. Witherdine had been the only one who liked her screwing straight and Rick had envisioned hundreds more just like her waiting along the shores of the finest oceans in the world.

He stood still as Marie worked down his zipper. Her eyes were ready to feast on all his equipment, her heavy lips parted, and the red tip of her tongue slid between them. Rick remembered the black girl on the campus lawn and how grateful she had been to be allowed to suck on his white cock and later stuff it up what she claimed was her virgin cunt. Marie reached inside his pants with expert fingers and fished out his penis.

It flopped outside, hung down long but not hard as if ashamed to show its head.

Marie stroked it, pulled on it. Nothing happened to it. She said, "I haven't seen a nice white one like that for a long time. And I bet it's real nice when it's standing up, but it doesn't look like it's going to get up today."

Rick thought Mrs. Witherdine had really done it for him. He thought he might never get another hard-on again. His balls felt shrivelled.

Marie smiled and patted his cock on its soft head. She began stuffing it back into his pants but could not get it in right so Rick did it for her.

She said, "It looks like it would be very fine, but not for me today. Probably not ever. And I don't feel like trying to get it up. Man," she sighed, "what destruction that would do to my ego if I tried and it didn't work" She patted Rick's crotch, felt his cock stuffed inside, and gave it a tender squeeze. "Best not to even try. You better just keep it stuffed in there for a few days, take care of it. I heard what happened and it might take you a while to get over it. You listen to old Marie, I know. You've had a hard blow to your little solar plexus. Or somewhere down there, down around the balls. And now you better just take it slow and easy till you get it all back. The Missus has only let a few of her boys go like she did you, and from what I heard of them after-wards they did not make much of themselves. You take it easy awhile. I liked you and so did she, but you lied to her and she can't take that. You take it easy and get your head screwed on straight. You're too young and good looking to be selling yourself so cheap."

Rick was nearly out the back door, but he turned to ask, "What do you mean?"

"I mean let the middle-aged creeps have these old dames like the Missus. Do I have to spell it out for you? She does all right with them. Don't feel you're the only cock that can make her happy. You're still young and full of fuck. You get yourself some young ones now while you still can. You get all the young ones now because when you're old like me, and like the Missus, you don't get a hell of a lot of choice. You listening to me?"

Rick nodded. "Yes, I am. I like young ones, too."

Marie nodded swiftly as if that settled that. "Then by damn you just hang onto them. You get them and make them happy. Making them happy will make you happy. Now you scoot along and eat your cookies."

She shooed him out the door and shut it after him. The heavy door swinging shut, closing solidly behind him, was like an era of his life ending.

He got back, to the resort about an hour before his class was scheduled to begin.

He walked the deserted dock. He watched a solitary boy fishing off the end without a care in the world except whether or not a fish would bite. Rick decided to take one of the Sailfish out into open water, by himself, and clear his head.

He stepped down into the small rowboat used to transport people from the dock to anchored sailboats and rowed the twenty yards to where the nearest small sailboat bobbed in the water.

Once aboard, he secured the rowboat to the stern, upped the anchor and began rigging the sail. He was nearly ready to hoist the mainsail when he realized that someone was calling his name.

He looked toward the dock and saw a cleancut figure of a girl waving to him. She wore a white T-shirt and blue shorts. He waved back, thinking she was waving good-bye.

She called, "Rick! You going out?"

He recognized her voice, then her body. It was Jenny Roman.

He called back, curtly, "I'm going out." He turned back to finish hoisting the sail.

It was luffing over his arm when he glanced back to the dock and saw that she had dived into the bay and was swimming toward his boat. He did not want to talk to her. He was sure she knew he had been fired by Auntie, and that Marie had told her why. He did not want to have to share his morning with anybody who looked like Jenny Roman.

But he knew, as he listened to the smooth calm strokes of her swimming, that he would have to take her on board. He could not leave her floundering in the bay, sail off like an insulted lover.

As she reached the side of the boat, he held his hand down for her to take hold. He hauled her into the boat. He found a stack of laundered towels stowed under the tiller and handed her one.

She shook her long hair and wiped her face with the towel. Her T-shirt clung to her breasts, tight and wet over her nipples that were drawn up and erect from the cold water. She had kicked off her sandals on the dock. She wiped her long tanned legs, and finally having caught her breath she looked over at Rick and smiled. "Ready?" she asked.

"Ready," Rick said. He set sail.

In half an hour they were in open water. The resort was a tiny speck behind them on a low rise on the horizon that was all they could see of North America.

Rick had not intended to sail out this far. Now he was out too far to get back in time for his afternoon classes. But since he did not feel like giving the classes anyway, he forgot it. He wanted only to swim, sail, let the sun, sky, wind and sea relax his mind.

Jenny said, after Rick dropped the sail, "You're hard to catch, you know that?"

"I didn't want anybody with me."

"That was obvious. Why did you take me on board then?"

"I couldn't leave you to sink right off the end of the dock."

"Don't worry about me, Buster. I wouldn't have sunk."

"Well, you're nicer to look at than staring at my own knees all afternoon."

"Don't you have classes this afternoon?"

"I do, but I won't be there."

She let her head roll back on her shoulders. Her black hair was caught in the wind. Her nostrils flared as she sucked the fresh clean air down into her lungs.

She was possibly the most beautiful girl Rick had ever known. Her features seemed to have been carved in flesh, rather than allowed to grow haphazardly like most people.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said. "Seriously, I want you to knock off all this nonsense with the old ladies, including my aunt. I want you to go back to school."

Rick was relieved that she did not know yet that he had been fired. He decided not to lie to her, but he would not yet tell her the whole truth.

"Jane and I spent a lot of time together last night. We know where you went, and what happened there. It's pretty crumby, you know. It's almost like being a whore, going to that place and letting people you don't even know watch you."

Rick let the anchor over the side and felt the boat slow when the heavy weight reached the end of the rope. The boat bobbed' and drifted easily in the gentle, deep-water rolls of the ocean.

Rick stood up and stripped off his shirt. He didn't care what Jenny thought of him. He only wanted to be in the water, cooled from the hot sun, away from everyone's voice telling him what to do and who to be. He dropped his pants. He let her look briefly at his cock, then he dove off the side and swam out a few yards.

His body cooled right away. He felt better, cleaner. The water between his legs lifted his cock and he felt cleansed, as if the ocean was baptizing him in some mysterious manner. He turned in the water, his bare ass flashing against the surface, and looked back at the boat in time to see Jenny poised naked, her young firm breasts pointing at the sun.

He saw the darker patch at her crotch, the long lines of her legs. She looked like a sacrifice that would appease the cruellest god.

Her ass flashed in the sun as she turned. Her legs moved sharply as she dove off the other side of the Sail-fish.

Rick thrust himself out of the water and dove down, forcing. himself deeper until his lungs hurt. Then he stroked his way to the surface and burst into the blinding sun and he felt he could see everything he would ever need to see.

When they were both back on the boat, they lay side by side on the deck. The sail flapped overhead, luffing gently in the sea breeze. Jenny's T-shirt and shorts hung from the mainstay.

Rick lay on his stomach and looked down Jenny's body. She lay on her back, and her breasts were smaller than when she stood. The nipples were erect. A pool of water was caught in her belly button, and raindrops shone in her curly pubic hair. In the sunlight, Rick saw faint, soft hairs on her thighs; Jenny was one of the lucky girls who never had to shave her legs. Her body hair was so soft, invisible, impossible to touch. She looked tender along her thighs, as if she had never been misused and still had all the hopes of a virgin.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty."

"I'm nineteen." Her voice was deeper because she was lying on her back. She sounded more serious, as indeed she felt. "We're both old enough to be past the kid-stage of screwing, don't you think."

"Tell me what you are talking about."

"All right. You lay still and let me do the talking. We're both old enough to be past the kid-stage of screwing. What I mean, by that is that we're old enough that it doesn't scare us anymore. We don't have to do it in a hurry anymore, in a back seat or wherever we can get it. But we're not old enough to settle down to one thing, either. Neither one of us. And what I mean by that is that you are throwing your life away if you stick with the plan you told Jane about, that you are looking for Easy Street and you're going to screw old ladies to get there. You're going to follow them to Florida when the season here ends. It's going to be your life. Well, how long do you think you can keep it up, and I don't mean your dick. What kind of life is that? You're too young and too smart and too damn good looking to spend your young life screwing old ladies. There's a lot of young stuff that would like to get into your pants, and all you have to do is give it away free. Stop selling it like some fifty-dollar whore. I guess that' what I'm saying. Don't be a whore. Stop wasting yourself on old ladies, even for money."

She waited, and when Rick said nothing she continued. "Now here is my sad story: "I was a virgin when I left home for college. Plenty had tried to get into me but they never got anywhere, especially the old men who used to hang around hoping Auntie would drop some money on them. But I damn near lost my cherry to one of her gigolos, and therein lies my story.

"I was fifteen at the time. It was at our place in Florida and I had been swimming at night in the pool. When I came into my room it was dark and I only turned on a single light by my mirror. I took off my suit and started looking at myself, you know how kids do. I examined my breasts, pinched my nipples until they stood up, turned around. to see how my ass was rounding out. I probably checked to see how thick my pubic hair was, and I might even have parted my vagina to look up it. Anyway, you know kids. I don't know what all I did in front of the mirror. Anyway, the first I knew anybody else was in the room was when I heard him get up from my bed.

"I knew right away who he was so I wasn't really afraid. But I was embarrassed at having been caught naked like that. But he crossed the room and started to touch me. I knew he was Auntie's lover, and I thought I'd let him go as far as I wanted him to. I was pretty sure I could turn him off if he got too serious. I let him touch my shoulders, my nipples, he squeezed my breasts. He touched my stomach and my hips. I let him touch my pubic hair. He was the first man who ever touched that. He stepped a little closer and I could smell the mints on his breath. He used to chew mints all day to cover up the fact that he was always raiding Auntie's gin closet. He pushed his hand between my legs and when I felt him trying to get a finger into my vagina I spread my legs to help him. He almost made it. He took my hand with his other hand and brought it to his own crotch. That was the first time I noticed that his penis was out. He had his pants open. He wrapped my hand around his cock. It was hard, but not very long. I liked touching it and he slipped his finger further up me and he knew how to work a finger. Then he made his mistake. He said, with that minty breath coming all over me, `I want to fuck you. Please let me fuck you.'

"Let me tell you he turned me off. I always knew I could stop him whenever I wanted just by making a little noise. Gigolos are only in it for the money and he knew he'd be out of the house fast if Auntie knew he was fooling around with me. So when he said that, `Please let me fuck you,' I just called out, `Marie, oh Marie, are you there?' He still had his finger in me but he pulled it out fast and disappeared. He literally just disappeared. He was afraid of Marie, and of Auntie, too. Naturally Marie wasn't anywhere around, she was out in the kitchen cleaning a chicken for the next day.

"That's the kind of men gigolos become. Beggars. If he had had any sense he could have made me easily. I had wanted him, and I had thought about him a lot, being Auntie's lover and all. And he really could have had my cherry. But he was too old, and he had lost his nerve. He was jaded, worn out from screwing grateful old ladies half his life. And he was only about thirty. It was tragic. He could have had me, but he didn't have it anymore for girls.

"I've been around a lot of Auntie's gigolos, and not one has been able to make me. A lot have tried, but they just don't have it."

Rick looked down her body again. He watched her nipples rise and fall with her breath. He had an erection lying hard under his stomach, but it was only a bodily reaction from lying naked with Jenny Roman. He knew that if he was going to make love to her it had to be on a finer plane than a simple bodily reaction.

"What would I have to do to make you?" he asked. She waited a few seconds. "Quit."

"Just like that? Is it so important to you that I quit being a gigolo that you would screw the?"

"I didn't say I would screw you. But the only way you are going to be able to have a possibility of screwing anybody like me is to quit. Right now."

"Why should I make a right turn off Easy Street just to have a virgin?"

"Not a right turn, a U-turn. And not just for some virgin, you fool. Virgins. Plural. With an S. And not only virgins. Of which I am not one, I might add. You'll not only get virgins, but girls. And women. Teen-agers and girls in their twenties. Thirty-year-old women with a yen for a young man. But don't ever tie yourself up with old ladies just for money. If old ladies are your thing, go to it. It's fine if you get more kicks balling old ladies. If that's true, stop me right now." She waited for him to stop her and when he did not she said, `Because if you tie yourself down with them, man, you'll cut yourself off at the knees. In a few months you won't even know how to get a young girl again, and if you get close you'll get so excited you'll be saying `please, please let me,' and she'll clamp her legs together so tight you'd never be able to pry them open."

Rick said, "All right. I quit. Shall we fuck?"

She sat up. Her breasts filled out on her chest. They sloped down gradually to the nipples, then tucked under in a round curve to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees and laid her head down to look at Rick sideways.

He rolled over and she looked at his cock lying long and hard against his stomach. She eyed the tight sac that held his balls.

"I don't want to fuck right now. I don't think I want to fuck today. Can you stand it? Is it all right?"

"No," Rick said, "but I can stand it."

"I can jack you off, if you want me to."

"Thanks, but I'd rather lie here with all my brains in my cock. If you don't mind."

"Sorry," she said, a laugh tickling the pretty corner of her mouth. She was a happy girl. "I don't feel like fucking with you right now. I feel more motherly, or sisterly is more like it."

"Incest happens in the best of families."

"Not in mine."

Rick enjoyed her watching him. After a while he got up and set the sail and they tacked to and fro across the ocean naked, the wind against their young sweet bodies, the sun shining on them as it never had before.

Jenny told Rick about the poet-in-residence at her college who had seduced her willing body. He had filled her mind with rhymes and her cunt with his cock. He had fucked her the first time until she fell asleep with his hard-on still inside her and they woke early in the morning, their hips pumping automatically, and fucked until sunrise. She told him all that a young person could learn from someone older, and why it was necessary to learn that but once having learned it you had to go on to other people. And how because of what the poet had taught her she had gone on to fuck three members of the college football team at the same time until their cocks would simply not rise again.

Rick's erection subsided and he was finally able to listen to her and to watch her naked body with only faint wishes pulsating through his loins.

Chapter 10

They did not return to the resort until after sunset. Rick had missed all three of his afternoon classes and was sure that he was not only finished as a gigolo but as a sailing instructor as well.

Jenny said she had a date. Rick did not want her to leave, because he wanted her nearby in case she changed her mind sometime during the evening and decided that she would indeed like to fuck. He had had her alone, all afternoon on the boat, naked, and he had scarcely tried at all to make her. Maybe what Marie had told him was true, maybe he had lost the desire for girls. jenny drove away in her little red sports car. Rick watched her until she was out of sight. He walked alone along the beach, past the cabanas of the rich. The surf, pounding softly to his left, reminded him of his own short span of geological time. He loved listening to the timeless waves roll in toward him like restless lovers turning in the night of his dreams.

He heard a commotion in one of the cabanas. There had been several acts of vandalism recently and Rick was surprised to find himself feeling a sense of responsibility toward the resort property. He approached the cabana from the shore side, hoping to catch the vandals and at least scare them enough so they would hesitate before coming back.

He was surprised to find, as he edged around the cabana, the eldest Garrison sister standing guard.

"Lucy," he said, "what are you doing here?"

She had not heard him approach and when he spoke she jumped as if he had poked her with a cattle prod. "Oh," she cried. "Oh, damn it, you scared hell out of me, Rick. What do you mean sneaking up on me like that?"

The commotion inside the cabana stopped, as if whoever was inside was waiting for Rick to pass by.

The Garrison sisters were still in high school, but that did not stop them from being the greatest cock-teasers in the resort town. Lucy, the oldest, was seventeen and had been known to fuck whenever the notion struck her, but Nellie, her sister, about a year younger, had as far as Rick knew never been pronged.

Now Nellie poked her pretty head out the cabana door to whisper, "What's the matter?" to Lucy. When she saw Rick, she ducked back inside.

The Garrison girls lived across the highway and had no business hanging around the beach cabanas at night. Lucy had taken one or two of Rick's sailing lessons before dropping out of class, but her chief occupation, as well as that of Nellie, seemed to be walking up and down the highway in very scampy bikinis. They were the kind of girls who sometimes caused accidents on the road when drivers looked at their swinging asses too long; the girls could then be seen standing around the accident site flirting with the state patrolmen.

Rick began to understand what was going on. "Who's in there, Lucy?"

"Nobody, Rick." Lucy looked nervous. She was a big-breasted girl and they shook now as she spoke. "Just nobody."

Rick opened the cabana door. Nellie sat inside on the narrow bench. She was naked except for a piece of bikini she held in each hand over her tits and over her crotch. A young kid had his face to the wall and was trying to hustle his pants up over his bare ass.

"Oh, hell," Rick said. He was a fool, he thought. He had butted in on some poor guy getting a piece of ass. But before he could excuse himself and leave, the kid turned around.

It was Shawn Cruise.

Shawn pulled a short-sleeved shirt onto his back, but he did not button it in front. Even in the darkness Rick could see the bulge of his hard-on at the front of his pants. "Leave us alone," Shawn said.

Nellie stared out at Rick in an accusing manner. No one at the resort doubted that virgin Nellie would one day have the same reputation as her older sister.

Lucy demanded, "Get going, Rick I'm just trying to teach these kids a little something and you come busting in to break it up. You think you're a cop or something?"

"This is a hell of a place to do any teaching." Rick gestured with his hand at the crowded, tiny space. There was not even enough room for the flickers to lie down. They had probably been trying to do it with Nellie perched on the bench and Shawn probably had been unable to find the hole.

"It's the best we could do," Lucy snapped. "We know it's not the Plaza."

"You can do better than this. You'd be better off fucking in the sand."

Shawn said, "They'd bust my ass if they caught me out here with these girls. Nellie's only sixteen. Where can we go? Sure as hell not to my place. My old lady's shacked up with somebody herself." He looked at Rick and added, "Again."

Rick felt responsible for Shawn. He wanted to do something, but his own room at the boarding house was too small and the landlady had been known to call the police at the slightest infringement of the rules. Then he had an idea.

"All right, Nellie, come on, get dressed. I have a place for you."

He and Shawn politely turned their backs as Nellie tied on the bottom of her suit. She had trouble with the top so when Lucy hissed, "Come on, baby, we got to make it," she just let it go and carried it in her hand. She was not as chesty as Lucy, but her tits were really fine for a girl of sixteen. When she got older they would be heavy and a real mouthful for anybody, but right now in the bloom of her adolescence, as she bloomed into her sexuality, Nellie carried tits that made Rick want to lean over and bite them.

Rick led them to the boathouse, about a hundred yards across the beach.

On the way, Lucy said, "I was trying to help Nellie get rid of her virginity. She's sixteen-and-a-half and it's getting heavy for her to carry around."

Nellie said, "Who needs it? I want to lose it tonight and I might have already if the policeman here hadn't come along."

"You'll be damn glad I came along," Rick said, "when you get fucked where you at least have room to lie down. You didn't want to lose your cherry in some little cabana like that, did you? How about you, Shawn? Wouldn't you rather stretch out for your first piece of ass, or hump away in there like some animal caught in a cage?"

Shawn said, his voice full of teen-age pride, "Wouldn't be my first piece of ass. I'm no cherry." He paused a moment, then added, "I've had a better piece than either of these two."

Lucy said, "Thanks a lot," but her voice carried no conviction that she would reject Shawn because of his insult. After all, he was a representative of the rich and had been about to fuck her little sister. What more could a girl do for her junior sibling than introduce her to the rich?

Rick said, "Any guy I know would be glad to get either one of the Garrison girls."

Lucy spoke up. "Thank you, Rick. That's nice of you to say so."

"It happens to be true."

Shawn wouldn't let it go, tossed it like a mutt with an old rag. "I fucked one neither of these girls can hold a candle to." When nobody asked him for further information, he volunteered it. "Jenny Roman, that's who."

Rick stopped. A vision of Jenny's beauty, her black hair shining, her tits uplifted to the clear sky, passed his mind. He saw Nellie's tits shine in the moonlight. He said to Shawn, "What did you say?"

"I said I fucked Jenny Roman."

Rick slapped him across the mouth. Shawn rolled back but did not fall. Holding his mouth, he said, "What was that for?"

Rick was surprised at his own anger. "I don't care who you fucked. It's none of anybody else's business. You keep it to yourself, understand?"

"Where do you get off so high and mighty? You fucked my mother, or don't you remember?"

Rick stood still a moment Both girls stared at him.

He said finally, "Yes, I did, but I have never told anybody. I have never told anybody who I screw. And from now on, neither do you. No matter what. If the girl wants to tell it, that's fine. That's something else. But you say nothing. Understand now?"

"Yeah, I get it," Shawn said. "The old double standard."

"Will you understand something? It's not the double standard. That's old hat, that guys can screw but girls can't. Forget that bullshit. What I'm trying to get you to understand is that 'you do not talk about who you screwed. No names."

Shawn nodded, but without persuasion.

Lucy said, "That's right, Rick. I've probably fucked half the guys in this town, but I never fucked one of them that I knew went out and told about it afterwards. At least that I ever heard back."

Shawn said, "I guess I'm getting the idea."

Rick unlocked the door of the boathouse and let them inside. After he closed and locked the door again, he spread tarpaulins on the floor.

Lucy decided that it might be a better favor to Nellie if Rick took her maidenhead, so she untied her bikini and led Shawn into the dark Rick did not really want a virgin, but Nellie was cute and she seemed willing enough, so he took off his clothes and wrapped her in his arms. As he stood caressing her smooth, naked back, his cock growing steadily between her legs, he had another idea.

Off in the dark, he could hear Shawn and Lucy going at it very fast. He knew that with a young guy like Shawn it would not be long before he got his rocks off, that Shawn was too horny, had too little experience, and simply had too much jism in his nuts. And by the time Rick was getting ready to bust his balls for the first time, Shawn would be ready to go again. Rick thought he owed something to the Cruise boy. After all, it was difficult for a guy to know that his own mother was fucking guys not much older than himself.

He whispered to Nellie, "Have you ever sucked a cock?"

"No," she replied, her hand stroking out the length of Rick's nice one.

"It's easy to learn," he said.

"I've never done that," she said. "Won't I bite you?"

"You'll know what to do. Just pretend it's a straw."

He sat on the edge of a boat trailer with Nellie kneeling between his legs. Her tits were against his shins as he guided her face into his lap and touched her cheeks with the swollen head of his cock. She brought her mouth to it. "I want to," she whispered. "I always wanted to." She licked down one side, then back to the tip.

She opened her mouth and slipped the head in against her tongue. Without pausing, she took all of it the first time, all she could get into her mouth. She held it with both hands and Rick thought she was an incredibly brilliant student, and sensitive as well. She brushed him once with her teeth, but otherwise he felt only her rising and falling with her lips, her gums and her tongue. She started to suck, as he had instructed, as if his cock was a thick straw and at the bottom of his balls was the sweet cream she needed in order to stay alive.

In the dark, Shawn groaned.

In a moment, Lucy was on her feet. "That was nice," she said as if she was patting a pet poodle on the head for a fine trick it had attempted but failed. "How you doing, Nellie?" she called. "You still virgin?"

Rick stood, eased Nellie's mouth off his prick. He leaned over and kissed her mouth, pushed her gently onto her back. He said to Lucy "She's still virgin, but her mouth is not" He ran his hands through Nellie's crotch, pressed against her ready, hot and wet cunt lips through her thin bikini. He hooked his thumbs in the frail material and pulled it off her wriggling hips. He said, "Come over, Shawn."

Shawn obeyed, stalk naked.

Rick asked, "Ever had a blow job?"

He shook his head. Still excited at having gotten his second piece of ass, his cock was beginning to stiffen again.

Rick kept his fingers working in Nellie's virgin snatch. "Beautiful," he asked, "will you do the same job on Shawn while I do something down here?"

For reply she reached over her head to Shawn's thigh and coaxed him to lie down over her face. As Rick saw Shawn's stiffening member slide into her mouth, he himself dove down into her reeking muff and he thrust his tongue deep inside her, almost as far as her maiden-head. Her virginity was not something he desired, but he did want to do a favor for Shawn. He thought that it was possible to save many kids, psychologically, if you could do them a favor when they least expected it.

Rick kissed Nellie's thighs, returned to her cunt, found and sucked on her protruding clit. Working his fingers through her cunt, he spread her hymen as much as he could without breaking it. With his middle finger soaking from her own cunt, he eased it into the tight hole of her ass and stroked there until she was pumping her cunt in the air, spreading it wide for more of Rick's tongue, and orgasms were flooding the poor girl's young body.

Rick touched Shawn's bare ass. Lifting his mouth from the cunt, he said, "Here, buddy, bring that cock down here. She's ready for it."

Shawn pulled himself from Nellie's mouth and climbed between her legs. He began easing his prick into the space so recently occupied by Rick's tongue. Nellie did not care whose prick was sliding into her, as long as it was a prick, and she pushed up against it and her hymen parted like a smooth pool of water to a diver and Shawn was inside her up to his balls. They began humping, twisting together, fucking in and out, in and out. Nellie moaned, "I want it, I want it, fuck me hard, now, now," as her heels locked Shawn's ass against her.

Rick put his clothes on and turned to go.

Lucy touched his arm. She was naked, but she did not try to touch his prick. "That was nice of you, Rick. You're a gentleman, even if you are a gigolo."

"Where did you hear that I'm a gigolo?"

"This town is too small to hide anything."

"Well, a gigolo I might have been, but I'm not anymore. If you can quit at the same time as you're being fired, then I quit. I'm through with it. It's a shitty life and not for me."

"Hey," she said, "I'm damn glad to hear that. I didn't want to hear it when I heard it. I always liked you and I didn't like to think about you sucking around old ladies."

"It was true for awhile, Lucy, but not now. I'm going back to school this fall. There isn't any Easy Street."

Lucy stood on tiptoe, her bare nipples brushing his arm. She kissed his lips. 'I I know that, but I'm trying to shield Nellie from that fact as long as I can."

Shawn was still fucking Nellie when Rick left. Lucy went over to kneel beside the fuckers and stroke their sweating bodies.

Chapter 11

After fucking for what seemed like a long time, Rick got tired and pulled out of her and rolled onto his back. He simply did not feel like coming yet, nor did he feel like keeping it up until his brain got in the notion.

Jane had spilled her rocks already, a number of times. Screwing in a boat in daylight turned her on so much that just the sensation of Rick's cock touching her cunt was enough to send the waves crashing through her body. She leaned on one elbow and passed her other hand along Rick's chest, over his stomach. She lifted his prick with her fingers. It was wet from her own cunt juices. "You worried because you got fired?" she asked. "From which job?" he asked. He smiled at her. He liked her a lot. She and Jenny Roman were the only two sincere people he thought he knew anymore.

"Either one. Either from Mrs. Witherdine or from your job."

"Neither one is bothering me. I think I've had it, Jane. I don't know what I want to do the rest of the summer. This is the last time they'll let me take a boat out. After we get back, there won't be much I can do."

"You can wait tables with me," she laughed.

"Don't be surprised if you see me trying to get your job."

That very morning, when he had reported for his first sailing class of the day, the head coach met him at the door of the boathouse. "You missed your afternoon classes, Temple." He had gone on to say a lot more, that Rick had had a bad reputation around the club and that he not only was washed up as a gigolo but he had not made the grade as a sailing coach either. At that point Rick had not given a damn.

He cashed his final check at the restaurant where Jane worked and he talked her into taking the afternoon off. He had taken her out in the Sailfish, while the head coach was busy somewhere else, and they set sail for open water.

With no preliminaries and almost no conversation, as soon as Rick dropped the sail they stripped and lay down together in the well of the boat and Rick slipped his cock into her. He almost came, but the feeling passed over him and after Jane. received her pleasure a few times Rick pulled out of her and lay beside her.

She stroked him and his cock remained stiff, but he felt like swimming instead of fucking.

"Let's go in the water," he said.

"Sure."

As they let themselves over the side into the cold ocean, they swam a few yards from the boat side by side.

Rick felt the same cleansing emotion he always felt when he swam in the seemingly bottomless sea.

Jane's blond hair was wet. She pushed it back off her face. She treaded water beside Rick and he looked down in the water at her hard tits, just slightly off-size even in the distorted reflection. He touched her bare back, moved his hands down to her hips where one hand slid coolly along the crack of her ass and the other found her crotch. His erection had gone away but his balls were drawn very tight in their sac because of the cold water. Rick loved very much touching Jane's body.

"We'd better get back before we sink," she said.

"Okay," Rick said. He dove under the surface and blew bubbles against her cunt. She wriggled her hips and kicked at him with her knees, then turned and together they swain back to the boat.

Rick pulled himself on board, then leaned over to hoist Jane up with him. For a moment they sat with their shoulders touching and splashed their feet in the water. "I like you a lot, Jane," he said.

"I like you," she said. "I'm glad you got fired. You'd have never come back to fuck me again if you hadn't gotten fired."

"I haven't fucked you yet."

"You will. But it was nice riding your prick like that, even if one nut is lower than the other." She smiled at him, remembering their first time together. She looked at his scrotum, tugged up tight under his prick, and added, "Sometimes they're the same, though."

"I'm going back to the university, Jane. I decided now, while we swam. I'm going to hole up there the rest of the summer. It won't cost me anything to live in my dorm room and I can use the library and study and take it easy and get my head straight for fall."

"I like that idea."

"Want to go?"

"Live in your dorm room with you?"

"Sure."

"No, I don't want to go. I like it here for the summer. And the second half of the season is the busiest. I like it here, but thanks anyway. You don't think we'd make it very long, living together, do you?'

"I guess not."

"Thank you for the offer."

"You're bright," he said. "Would you go to school if you had the chance?"

"Just let me have the chance and watch my smoke.", Rick looked down her front, across her hard nipples, past the crease in her belly caused by the way she was sitting, to the mound of blond hair curling at her crotch. Her hand lay curled on Rick's bare thigh. He looked out across the ocean and took several deep breaths of fresh air and was grateful to have such a young, beautiful, willing girl beside film, alone in a boat.

He asked her, "Have you ever sixty-nined?"

She looked at his eyes, then dropped hers. "I'm more innocent, I guess, than most of the girls you've had."

"Maybe more innocent than some, but nicer than most. Come on." He coaxed her down into the well of the boat again. "I'll start it, and you just do whatever you feel like."

"Rick," she said, her hands covering her pubic. hair, "I've never done anything like this."

"Do you trust me?"

"I'd be a fool not to."

"All right then." He kissed her lips, holding her head with both hands. He did not move except to outline her lips with his tongue and to french-kiss her mouth until he felt both her hands rise to his shoulders. Only then did he take his hands from her head and, holding her forearms, kiss her neck, down, clown across her shoulder, up the swell of her breast until the nipple was firmly in his mouth. He caressed her other tit until he was ready to move his mouth across her valley to its sweet heights.

Jane may have been inexperienced, but she was a willing student and while he kissed her nipples Jane kissed his hair while her hands began to, roam over his body. She touched his nipples, down to his belly button, along his thighs and back to the balls she once had considered the finest pair she had ever touched. She held his penis in her hand and felt the blood begin to surge back into it.

His mouth kissed under her breasts and he held her hips with both hands, then straightened out her legs until she was lying beside him with his face over her stomach. His tongue searched out her belly button while his hands touched her thighs and slightly spread them. He tried to ignore what she was beginning to do to his crotch, but it was impossible not to be aware of at least some of her actions.

Her fingers traced the crack of his ass, held the cheeks, then walked back across his hips. He felt her lift his prick. It was at full stand now and he was aware when her mouth was near it because he felt her breath across its tender underside. She touched it with her lips. "Oh Rick," she began. "Rick, it's going to be so nice." He felt her tongue slide between her lips and tenderly, shyly, touch the underside of his cock, almost at the tip.

He spread her thighs and kissed along her stomach, from her navel to the beginning of her curly hair. He was happy that she did not resist him as so often girls who had never allowed themselves to be eaten thought they had to do. She raised her right leg to allow him to reach around her hip, past her ass, and to her cunt with his right hand.

He thought she smelled fresh, especially after her ocean swim, but still funky enough to be a rich cunt, one ripe and beginning to flow with the juices so necessary to good fucking.

He did not pet her cunt, nor try to stimulate her with his fingers. He merely spread her lips with the very tips of his fingers and went gently into her with his tongue. She tasted salty, of the sea and of fuck. She moved her left leg up so that she could be opened further for him and when she did so his tongue stroked her hard little shaft and her ass moved closer to him, her back curling so he could dive in even further.

He sensed, in the back of his mind, that the end of his cock was in her virgin mouth. He sensed, rather than felt, her lips pressing along his shaft. He sensed her fingers weighing his balls, holding his cock, and he felt, at last, her mouth beginning to suck him. His cock swelled in her mouth and she slid further over it and took more inside and as she started sliding up and down his stiff rod her saliva poured along his throbbing veins as her own cunt began pouring juices against Rick's mouth.

He stroked a finger into her, his long middle finger. He felt the tight walls of her cunt. He followed it as far as he could with his tongue, thrusting in and out quickly, flicking her clit, forcing her ass to move from side to side. He heard her beginning to moan, the sounds coming out of her mouth around his cock.

He removed the wet finger from her cunt and brought it a little to the rear and he found her tight little brown hole and worked in up to the first joint. Nellie had liked that the night before and Rick thought that Jane might like it even more. She did.

He removed his finger and wiped it again through the fluids pouring from her cunt and went back to her hole and worked it inside again, this time as far as the second joint. As his tongue stroked her cunt, he began moving his finger in and out of her ass. He slid it in past the second joint, then joined it with his index finger as far as the first joint.

He pushed and his middle finger slid into her tight, ever so tight ass as far as the knuckle. He began fucking her with it, at the same time as his tongue was sucking her slit, and he felt her thighs tensing as she neared her orgasm. He subsided, slacked off in her ass and felt her muscles relax slightly. He took his tongue from her clit and rammed it into her cunt and then began slowly, ever so slowly, to fuck her ass again with his finger, bringing her slowly and steadily up to the high cliff again of which this time he would push her over.

She had taken nearly all of his cock down her throat. She let him go when he relaxed with her and she let the shaft slide out, keeping only the head in her mouth. But she sucked hard on the head and when Rick began fucking her ass with both fingers again she started sucking all of his cock back into her mouth.

He pumped a little faster with his fingers. He felt her muscles tightening again. She sucked on him harder, using her gums and tongue instead of her cunt and clit, her hands squeezing what she could not get into her mouth, her fingers holding tight against his balls, pressing against that hard part of his shaft just behind his balls and ahead of his ass. Rick's thighs began pumping as he moved his tongue back to her clit and he stroked faster and faster in and out of her ass.

Her moaning began again, beginning somewhere in the bottom of her stomach and emerging with her breath through her nostrils.

Rick felt himself gathering in his thighs, his stomach, and his hips began to thrash involuntarily as he mounted past his own breaking point. Jane held tight to his balls, his cock. She sucked hard, not flinching at all as Rick started to come but thrusting her own hips up toward Rick's mouth, driving her clit against his tongue as his fingers fucked far up her ass.

Her orgasm started just a second before his. The grasping of her thighs, the thrusting of her feet, broke Rick over his own edge and he started pumping his come out of his balls, spurting his jism deep into Jane's throat as she mouthed `his cock, squeezed his balls for more, as her own pent-up emotions broke against his mouth and her floodgates burst open to anoint Rick's tongue and mouth with the sweet perfumes of her body.

After a long while, during which they lay curled in each other's arms, they swam again, then fucked slowly, longingly, Rick's cock probing further into her than his tongue ever could have. Her back was curled under him and her ankles hooked over his shoulders so he could thrust as far up her cunt as any man had ever fucked. Rick touched the boat only with his hands and his feet as Jane expertly brought him to another breaking point and then rode over the top with him.

After they had sailed back to shore, after dark, Rick took Jane to her own room above the restaurant, kissed her good night and good-bye. He spent the night alone in his own room, sleeping like a man who had lifted a heavy weight off his own shoulders.

In the morning, before he left for his university, he mailed a heavy package to Jane. Inside was more than $3000, the entire sum of Rick's earnings as a gigolo. He enclosed a note:

Jane, For the best sailing lesson I have ever had, you have been awarded a scholarship to the university of your choice. The money is sour for me, but it should not be for you. If you use it to go to school, I know you will not look for Easy Street because you are smart enough to know that such a place does not exist.

Love from me.

Chapter 12

The campus was almost deserted. Rick saw a few caretakers he recognized, and a few students were hanging around taking summer courses to catch up on what they had missed during the winter.

He enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere after the hectic pace at the resort. No reveled in the wide open spaces, the vast lawns and sloping hills, the trees loaded with leaves and the calm warmth that seemed to permeate even the buildings. He looked forward to the movements of the fall when students would return and the pace would increase a thousandfold, but as of now he was content to lounge in the room which during the school year he shared with a roomie. But now, during the summer, the roomie was working with a surveying gang near Topeka, Kansas and Rick felt that living alone in the room was much like having a private apartment on an estate on which he did not even have to pay the gardeners. He got up early and walked to breakfast at the student union under a chorus of birds. He spent most of every morning in the college library, discovering volumes that had not been checked out since the 1930s. He usually ate lunch off campus at a small diner and returned to his room to read some of the books, to reread some of his textbooks from last term, or to watch a late afternoon movie on his portable TV. During the evening, he strolled downtown to watch a film, hang around the well-lighted bookstore half-flirting with the salesgirls. Or just walk.

After five days of this enviable routine he thought he had settled himself quite nicely. Jane had taken most of the sap out of him before he left the resort so it took most of the five days for it to be renewed, for his batteries to be recharged. By the fifth evening he was seriously beginning to look for someone to take back to his private room on campus. He began to want to screw from dark to dawn, and begin again after breakfast. His well, once again, was full to running over.

Finally, the fifth night, he wandered the city. The films did not change until the following day, so they were of no use to him. He walked slowly back to the campus.

He was surprised to see a small red sports car parked at the entrance of his dormitory. He thought at first that someone had a car just like Jenny Roman's. When he glanced into the car, he saw on the small glove compartment the initials JR.

He took the stairs two at a time.

She was not in his room, but a woman's small over-night case was on a chair and a pair of jeans and a T-shirt were piled on his bed.

Rick walked down the hallway, smiling inwardly, and pushed open the door that lead to the communal showers.

She was there.

Her soaking black hair streamed down her back half-way to her ass. She was soaping her face and the thick shower stream washed the soap into white foamy rivulets that ran down her forearms to drip from her elbows. Her breasts were caught between her arms, full breasts, firm and only slightly bouncy. The nipples were clean and shining in the water.

She had soaped her thighs and between her legs and the shower had streaked the foam down her long, tanned, smooth legs that tapered to fine, slender ankles and strong healthy feet. She sensed someone was watching her and turned her back to reveal the curves of her buttocks, the coverts behind her knees, the roundness of her shoulder blades.

Rick watched her. He wanted her more now than ever.

Kicking off his shoes, he stripped off his shirt and pushed down his pants. He stepped naked into the shower.

Jenny looked up at him. "You know," she said, "you're hard to find."

He held her face under the shower stream and kissed her lips. Her skin was slippery. He brushed her with his penis, his thighs, and she turned full-face toward him and pressed her bush against his cock. His hands held her by each cheek of her ass and he pressed her to his body. Water ran off both of them in sheets.

She reached between his legs with the soap in one hand. She washed his balls, brushing the back of her hands against his cock. When he was fully erect, she soaped it and ran her hands up and down, feeling the size of his swollen head, the strength of his shaft. She rinsed the lather off and slightly raised her left leg.

Rick stooped slightly, his hands on her wet firm breasts, kneading her tits, pressing them, squeezing them, and when he rose Jenny had guided the head of his prick into her cunt and he slid in as far as he could get standing up.

He pulled out again to make sure he was in her, then pushed forward again. Jenny wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't fall down, you fucker," she said. She bit his ear. She kissed his mouth. "You're very nice inside me. Will you come in me? How fast can you come?"

Rick did not think about her. He only wanted to fuck for himself. He continued pumping his ass while he held tight to her ass. She spread her knees to the side and when he thrust further up he lifted her off her feet. She held tight to his neck and Rick felt her mouth fall open, her jaw slack, and her breath came faster and heavier.

He moved his hips from side to side, making her ride with him.

"Oh, yes," she cried, half gasping. "Rick, damn you, damn you, you fucker, you're doing it to me, oh damn it, I can't stop it, oh damn damn damn."

Rick's cock was in and out of her. At times in his backthrust he pulled completely out of her but she had spread her legs so wide and their timing was so perfect that the split second afterwards when he pushed forward again he sank home to the hilt. He felt his pubic bone crushing against hers. He thrust up her and up her and up her.

"Damn you," she kept saying until her tongue thrust out of her mouth against Rick's ear, against the soaking side of his face. She covered his cheeks with kisses, with licks.

Rick felt the shudders begin along her backbone and her cunt seemed to gush as she came. She seemed to open up inside and flood his cock with lubricating juices and her head began to shake. She squeezed Rick, held him tight, and he felt his own spasms along his legs and then his hips began pushing up completely beyond his control and his own semen burst its pent-up dam and gushed up in torrents into the top of her cunt, spurting hard and high inside her, far up in her as far as it could reach.

Rick kept pumping his hips until his spasms were finished.

As he subsided, Jenny's mouth sobbed on his shoulder, then she regained herself and threw her hair back over her shoulder in a wet toss of her head.

Rick heard applause.

He looked out of the shower and saw two summer students, both male, smiling in at them and clapping their hands. "Beautiful," they said, "superb, just fine, thanks, it was great."

Jenny pulled herself off Rick's cock and stood with her face up to the full stream of the shower. When her body relaxed, she grinned at Rick, kissed him quickly on the mouth.

He rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower. He said to the two students, "Glad you liked it."

They were busy stripping their clothes off for their own showers.

Rick turned, expecting to see Jenny following him out of the shower.

She stood with her face upturned to the shower stream again. Her breasts were erect, pointed up, and her ass was held tight. She was a vision of sexuality. She looked at the two guys who by now were naked and stepping into the shower with her.

"Hi," she said cheerily. "You guys permanent students or something?"

The guys laughed. One bent over and picked up jenny's soap. The other turned on a separate shower but the one with the soap stepped into the same spray as Jenny. He soaped himself and as he let the shower rinse his body he began soaping jenny's ass.

Rick watched until he saw the second student begin to soap jenny's breasts.

He turned and walked, still naked, his clothes in his hand, back to his room.

He dried himself and with the towel wrapped around his middle he lay down on his bed.

He did not know what thoughts were going through his mind. He did not know at first where he was or why he was there.

Birds were settling down for the night in the trees outside his window. Crickets were beginning their night-long chorus.

While Rick considered whether or not he should rescue jenny from her shower-mates, a strange peace settled over him. He realized that he was not the owner of the world.

In a few minutes, jenny came into the room, rubbing herself with a towel, naked and laughing. She called back to someone in the hallway, "So's your old lady." She was the happiest girl Rick had ever known.

She said, rubbing her hair with her towel until her breasts bobbed beautifully, the nipples dancing, "You got to treat these guys like they're used to being treated, otherwise they take advantage of you."

When she thought her hair was dry enough, she sat down on the edge of Rick's bed. Her hip touched his leg. "Did that make you mad in there," she asked, "my staying in the shower?"

"Yes, it did. But now it doesn't."

Her eyes smiled, joy passed over her face and left little tracks of merriment. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not Mrs. Witherdine. I'm nobody's Auntie. I don't own anybody. You're not my gigolo. I have no rights over your body except what you give me. I'm mad at you for staying in the shower, but I'm not mad at all."

She kissed both the nipples on his chest. He lay his hand on her smooth, cool thigh.

"You're learning, and that's nice." She touched the towel wrapping his body as if she would like to loosen it.

She explained. "I didn't fuck them, you know."

"I'm glad you didn't, but it was your choice."

"I decided not to fuck them. I want to fuck you. Are you mad at me because I fucked Shawn Cruise?"

"Not anymore. I was mad at first because you did, then I was mad at him because he told about it. Now I'm not mad."

"It was a nice thing I did for him. He was going to go to a whorehouse, or worse. He needed to lose his cherry bad. You had just screwed his mother and he wanted to get even with somebody. I let him get even with me."

"That was nice."

"He was scared, but it did work. It was also nice what you did with him with the Garrison girls. Auntie has supported their mother for a long time, you know. Their father deserted them years ago. Lucy and I have been sort of pals for years, but you couldn't tell it by the company we keep. She tells me everything. You're a very kind man, Rick Temple, you damn gigolo."

"No more. Na more of that. Did you know your aunt fired me?"

"Marie tells me everything, too. I even know why she fired you. That was the luckiest night of your life. You not only got very nicely screwed, you also got yourself out of a very nasty life-style. Congratulations, even if you didn't plan any of it."

Rick ran his thumbs over her nipples. They leaped at his touch.

She looked at his eyes. "And I think I'm in love with you for starting that scholarship for cocksuckers."

Rick laughed. "Is there anything you don't know?"

"Nothing." Her mouth curved up as she smiled. "Nothing at all."

She opened the towel around his waist and saw that his cock was starting to rise. Quickly crossing the room, she closed the door, then returned to sit down beside him again and hold his rising cock with her hands, caress it. She brushed it with her lips.

Rick slid a hand over the edge of the bed, down between her legs. Her cunt was still warm and moist from her fucking and his fingers slid easily in over her clit.

She asked, "Are there any more funds in that scholar-ship?" She licked the underside of his prick as it lay up along his belly. Gently lifting its head, she slipped her lips over it.

"There are no funds left," he said, sliding more fingers into her cunt and bringing her leg up toward his head. "But we'll find some other kind of reward."

Content

Carla Hadim
Wild And Willing

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12