Chapter 10

JASON LOOKED UP FROM HIS FOOD AT HIS SISTER-in-law. Both she and Louise were smiling in his direction.

"How can you know we'll be admitted?"

"Because Louise and I talked with Sam Norris right after you went downstairs with Darris. Besides," her smile changed into a warm chuckle, "Darris is Sam's niece. He knows she's over here. When I told him about me and Cherry this afternoon and Louise told him about your being down in the rumpus room with Darris, well-he said bring you and Cherry to Camp Sunair anytime you wanted to come. Say the word, and I'll go make plane reservations for all of us right now. We can be there tomorrow morning."

"Okay," he grinned broadly, feeling good inside. Hell! He felt like a million dollars. "You've got the word. Go make the reservations."

"For me too, Emma," Louise said as the other girl left the table. "My office is closed on Saturdays."

"Tell me, Louise," Jason said when they were alone. "Do Stan and Marsha Constiner belong to Sunair?"

"Lord yes! They're two of the strongest supporters the camp has. Why do you ask?"

"Because they also belong to some friendship club, as it's called. They've tried to get me and Cherry to join, but they've never once mentioned Camp Sunair."

"Jason, Camp Sunair is about one of the best-kept secrets you'll find. As for the friendship club, I believe that's a separate group Stan and Marsha got together themselves. It doesn't have a regular meeting place though, like Sunair. I one time heard Stan remark that one of these days he wanted to build a camp of his own."

"Does Darris go to Sunair?"

"Not yet. But I believe Sam Norris is going to let her start going soon-on my recommendation."

"Why your recommendation?"

"Because a satisfactory sex life is vitally essential to a happy,'-well-adjusted life." She paused, frowning reflectively and toying with the food in her plate while he waited for her to continue.

"Jason, the insane asylums of this nation contain many thousands of inmates who have been committed because, over a period of time, they have refused to accept-or because of their childhood training were unable to accept-the simple, basic truth that the sex act is a normal function of the human body. Any psychiatrist worthy of the name knows this.

"He also knows that in addition to those kept behind bars and in padded cells, there are many thousands more walking the streets each day who live miserable lives because they have been taught from childhood the naked human body is a shameful thing and that sex is an unwholesome vileness which should be kept hidden in the dark somewhere, and spoken of in whispers.

"Darris Redmund is a normal, healthy young girl with a normal, healthy sex drive which must find expression if she is to lead a happy life. I know of no better place for her to find this expression than at Sunair. Otherwise, in the heat and urgency of need for expression she might become careless, get pregnant, get a venereal disease-any number Of things could happen that could injure her for life. It happens to young girls and boys ever day."

"I see," Jason said thoughtfully. He had never heard the subject explained from her viewpoint before. "But I thought Sunair was founded for the purpose of saving marriages."

"Originally it was. And that still is its fundamental purpose, but over the past few months I've been able to convince Sam Norris and Ed Carson of the value of allowing more unmarried singles of Darris' age group to go there. So far, the project is still in the experimental stage, with only close relatives of established members allowed but I'm convinced the experiment will be a success."

"We're all set," Emma said, coming back into the kitchen and taking her seat at the table. "Our flight leaves in the morning at ten-thirty. We'll be at Sunair long before noon."

"You say Cherry is still asleep?" Jason asked. "She wasn't on the bed when I got these pajamas a while ago."

"She's in one of the bedrooms down the hall. When we got home she took the nearest one. Said she was too exhausted to walk another step." Emma laughed heartily. "She was, too."

"And what about Darris? Is she spending the night?"

Emma shook her head; "But she's going with us to Camp Sunair in the morning. Before I made the flight reservations I called Sam Norris and he said she could go. I'll run her home after awhile so she can get her things. We can pick her up on the way to the airport. And when I return from taking her home I'm coming back and following Cherry's example. I'm a little exhausted myself." She cut her eyes at Louise, a sly smile on her lips. "You may sleep with the man of the house, doctor."

"I think I'll enjoy that very much," Jason grinned. "I've never made love to a doctor before."

Louise laughed. "Have I got anything to say about this?"

Emma shook her brown head. "Not a thing. You're being plotted against, so don't fight the inevitable."

"Ah me," Louise sighed, trying to sound distressed despite the glad smile tugging at the corners of her ripe mouth. "Fate has done it to me again."

"Wait till Jason does it to you. You'll never let fate do it to you any more." Emma rose from the table. "I'll go run Darris home and then I'm going to bed. You two enjoy yourselves."

"Any last-minute instructions, ma'am?" Jason asked her, trying to keep a straight face.

"Right, sir," Emma said in clipped, military tones and standing rigidly at attention. "Orders of the night are as follows: Put one in one and keep it tight like that." She fled the room giggling, laughter of the .others following her.

"She's a case." Louise shook her head slowly when the sounds of Emma's footsteps had died.

"She's a living, breathing angel," Jason said with feeling. "I don't know what on earth Cherry and I would have done if it hadn't been for her. You know .she was in Paris when Cherry first called her, don't you?"

"Yes, Emma told me."

"Well, when that girl hit town things really began happening. To be honest, I wouldn't have known where to turn. I don't know of a one I could have called on to ... to help out, as she got Marsha Constiner and Darris to do. Even if I never do get rid of this damnable mental block, I'll always be humbly grateful to her."

"I wouldn't worry about the block too much if I were you, Jason. It can pass-how does the saying go?-In the twinkling of an eye. It can vanish just that soon."

"Is it-likely to return?"

"I've never known of a case where it did. To be on the safe side, however, if I were you; especially you, I'd continue my visits to Camp Sunair for a few months after the affliction is cured. By all means take Cherry if she wants to go, but you go, regardless."

"She'll go. If I go, I know she will. But you know something? When I can have Cherry I don't need another woman. She's the same way about me, too. In the years we've been married I've never known her to show any interest whatsoever in another man. Simply none."

"You're a very fortunate couple. There's a world of truth in another old saying I recall, which goes:

Familiarity breeds contempt, I see it in my office every day. When the tinsel and glitter of the marriage wears off, and each takes a good second look at the person they married, then things begin to go stale. Stop any of a hundred married people on any street corner in the city, ask them if time could be turned back, would they marry the same person a second time. Over seventy per cent will tell you no, and mean it."

"But why is this? What kind of a society have we evolved into?"

"I can't answer your second question, Jason. Nobody can, because right now the social order is in the process of change. We can only hope it's for the better. As to your first question-sexual incompatibility is the root cause of most divorces and unhappy marriages today. This root cause takes many forms by the time the couple carry their tales of woe to the court room, but sexually compatible couples; simply do not get divorces, and they are not unhappy with each other. They stand shoulder to shoulder and face any calamity, regardless, but they stand together."

"I've always known Cherry and I were lucky. The way you put it makes me realize just how lucky." Jason rose from the table. "Were you serious about sleeping with me tonight?"

The glowing smile which spread over her face Changed it: into something even more lovely to look at. "It wasn't my idea ... but I'm not objecting. I should think, though, that you're getting a little fatigued by now. Still, by sleeping together doesn't mean we have to wrestle all night. We can just sleep, you know." She got to her feet.

Jason slipped out of his pajama bottoms and crawled between the sheets when they reached the bedroom. Louise took a shower, and he lay there listening to the muffled sound of the water. She was right. He was a little fatigued. Considerably more so than he had suspected, for he dozed off while she was bathing, and jerked awake abruptly to find her in the bed beside him.

"I can see right now," she chuckled in his ear, "that you're not able to get any of this red-headed wooly-booger of mine tonight." As she spoke his cock slowly swelled to its full size.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you," he told her. "Turn on your side away from me and draw your knees up." When she did this he also turned on his side, facing her back, and felt under her buttocks, determining the exact location of the wooly-booger she had referred to. Next he parted the red fleece, ensconced the head of his cock with-in her cleft to his satisfaction, then began working his hips against her, feeling his weapon maneuver its way into her hot belly.

"Now let's go to sleep," he whispered drowsily when the moist kiss of her cunt was about the base of the shaft.

"Go to sleep thi ... this way?"

"Mmmmm ... "

"If you say so, Ja ... Jason."

Some minutes later, as he was drifting into restful sleep, he felt spasming muscles deep inside her squeezing and milking at his rod while she scrouged her buttocks softly against him. Dimly, as from a great distance, he heard the sound of her nails clawing the sheet mingle with her ecstatic whimperings.

"What is a blackout party?" Jason asked his wife as he stood looking out the window of the cottage assigned to them at Camp Sunair. He had been meaning to ask the question since they had awakened this morning, but in the excitement and flurry of the trip down it had slipped his mind.

Both he and Cherry were naked and both wore a small, white plastic disc around the neck with a large black number on each side.

"That's what Emma called it, darling." Cherry was busy hanging up the clothes they'd just removed.

"But what is it, Cherry?" He kept looking at the immaculate grounds of Sunair. Volley ball court. Tennis court. A swimming pool so large it looked like a small, kidney-shaped lake. Outdoor bowling alleys of stainless steel treated with rubber. And this was only the beginning. Fifty acres yet. Broad fields of lush grass dotted with shrubs and flower beds, wooded areas from which the underbrush had been removed. Sunair had cost a fortune to build, and Jason smiled wryly to himself. If it helped him get rid of his affliction it was worth ten times every goddam penny it cost.

"Well," Cherry said. "A blackout party is ... " And she told him about being screwed by fifteen different men in the pitch blackness of Emma's apartment the day before. She placed no emphasis on number three, the young boy who had sent her into orgies of continuous rapture. She concluded with: "Emma said it is also called a she-bang or a gang-bang."

Jason roared with laughter. "And you didn't see a one of them?"

She shook her pretty brown head. "Not a single one."

He was about to reply when he stopped short, his eyes riveted out the window, then he said, "Cherry. Come see this. Quickly!" She dashed to his side. A tiny gasp came to her lips.

"Oh!? She stared in fascination. "Oh!"

Outside on the lawn a man stretched himself flat on his back on the grass, his hardened cudgel bobbing like a club of victory. Beside him stood Marsha Constiner in a frenzie of eager excitement, slightly behind her another man of twenty or so. The moment the first man adjusted himself in a reclining position Marsha jumped astride his hips and dropped to her knees and quickly impaled herself on his weapon. Then she said something over her shoulder to the young man behind her. With alacrity he moved in behind her as she leaned forward, settled his position on his knees and lodged the end of his cock between her buttocks. A serene expression stole over Marsha's face as the young man thrust forward with his hips, driving the member into her body. "Mercy," Cherry murmured. "I didn't know anything like that was possible." She cut her eyes to the side, toward her husband, traveling her eyes up and down the tall, naked frame of the man she loved better than life itself. Almost timidly she stretched forth a hand and took his massive cock. At once it began to wilt. The moment she withdrew her hand, it bucked upright once more. "Oh, Jason," she said, for the first time since their visit to Dr. Goldberg's office a note of distress in her voice. "How much longer is it going to be?"

"I don't know, darling. But I hope to God it isn't long."

"What numbers do you have."

"Two and Four. Yours?"

"Nine and eleven." A sly grin touched her face. "And we're supposed to find those with matching numbers?"

"That's right." He nodded out the window. "Somewhere out there is a man with a nine on one side of his card and another with an eleven. Shall we get started?"

"Jason." She took his arm as they stepped outside the cottage. Her small jaw was clinched. "If your affliction passes while we're here, and you don't look me up that instant, I'll skin you alive."

"Don't worry," he promised, thrilled at her statement. "You don't want this to come to an end any more than I do." He pulled the door of the cottage shut and turned to look at the trio on the lawn nearby.

Marsha Constiner, sandwiched in between the two men, was throwing a screeching, clawing fit. He was about to take a seat on the grass to watch when Darris Redmund dashed up, her young face glowing.

"What numbers have you got, Mr. McIvers?" Her voice was tense with hope.

"Two and four."

"Aw, gee." Her face fell. "I was hoping one of ours might match. She's got number two." Darris turned and pointed toward a small clump of shade trees on the far side, of the swimming pool. "Her name is Wilma something-or-other."

Jason let his gaze follow the direction of her finger. Leaning against one of the trees was a girl, who-at least from a distance-appeared to be no older than Darris. She was a slender slip of a girl, deeply tanned, with white blonde hair that reminded Jason of a halo from the way the sun filtering through the trees touched it.

"Thanks, Darris." He turned to his wife. "I've found one of my numbers," he told her. "I'll see you later." Carefully he began making his way around the pool and toward the clump of trees, side-stepping a number of couples making love on the ground as he did so. One of these couples was his sister-in-law, Emma Markham, and a giant Negro man, beside a cluster of oleander bushes.

"H ... hi," she gasped as he went past.

Farther on he passed the hairy, barrel-chested man who had been introduced to him as Sam Norris upon his arrival. The man was wallowing between Louise Gavin's legs, which were locked about his waist like a wrestler with a scissor hold. Shortly after passing them, Jason paused to stand looking over the terrain. Couples were everywhere. Even as he watched he saw Darris hit the grass with a young man beside her. A moment more and her legs were locked around the fellow's waist much in the same manner Louise's legs were around Norris. He shook his head in perplexity. Had anyone told him a week ago such a place as Camp Sunair existed he would have called him a liar. He shook his head as he started again for the clump of trees. He wasn't so sure he believed it yet.

"Hello," the girl leaning against the tree said, quite casually, when he approached. She indicated the card hanging from his neck by a movement of her head. "I see you have a number two also."

"Darris said you had a two. She also said your name was Wilma something-or-other."

"Would you believe that something-or-other stands for Smith. Rather a common name for such an exotic layout as this, don't you think?" She shoved herself away from the tree and turned to face him. He saw he had been correct in thinking she was nearly the same age as Darris. She certainly couldn't be much older. A burst of brilliance from her hand moving in the sun caught his eye and when he dropped his eyes to it he saw the engagement ring alongside the other.

"Smith is as good a name as any other."

Her eyes followed his to her hand, which she held put, palm down, for him to see better. "I'm a single here," she explained. "I don't know why I still wear these. He's been dead for months now. Sam let me come out here today because he figured I was about to crack up. He thinks Camp Sunair will be just the thing to get me back on the right track-and I believe he's right." A warm, bewitching smile spread over her deeply tanned face.

Jason stood motionless a few feet from the girl, no little impressed by her beauty. True, she was of slight build, though somewhat taller than he'd thought when Darris had first pointed her out; and certainly she had all the curves in the right places. In addition to this, her white-blonde hair was natural. He knew this to be true because that of her pussy was the same shade as the hair on her head and with all the vanity of the female sex, he had yet to hear of one that dyed the hair between her legs.

"Let's go over here in the shade." He took her by the arm and led her back under the trees. "Is this your first time at Sunair?" he asked, as they took a seat on the grass.

CHAPTER ll

"YES." SHE SAT SO CLOSE HER BUTTOCKS TOUCHED his and when he felt the gentle heat of her body his massive cock, riding at half mast since he had circled the swimming pool, snapped erect. Sight of it brought a small gasp of delight from her lips. "Boy," she murmured softly. "His idea of me coming to Sunair was the best idea Sam Norris ever had in his life."

Any idea that he was about to get a cool reception from this girl vanished immediately. "I think it was a good idea, too."

"Just look for a moment." She waved her hands to include the scene around the swimming pool. "Have you ever seen anything like it before in your life? Or even imagined such a place could exist?"

He shook his head slowly, understanding the touch of awe in her words, a big grin spreading over his face. Quickly he counted twenty-nine couples scattered about, .each either recuperating momentarily, or in the midst of some form of the act itself. Even as he counted, a thin-bodied bony man of thirty dashed from behind one of the cottages and raced in their direction. Behind him in hot chase came two giggling girls.

The man's angle of flight took him within a few yards of where Jason and Wilma sat and one of the pursuing girls took a short cut around the clump of trees to intercept him. She succeeded and the three of them tumbled to the grass midst a wild tangle of arms and legs and gales of laughter. One of the girls pretended to hold the man's shoulders against the' ground while the other pounced toward the juncture of his thighs, without hesitation sliding her lips down over his erect penis. The man grunted explosively and ceased his struggles.

"See what I mean?" Wilma said in a low voice. "Where else on earth could you see something like that?" She leaned closer against him and Jason could feel the increased heat of her body.

"Let's get in the act," he said, twisting around so he could lay his head in her lap and with an arm about her shoulders drawing one of her satiny, tanned breasts down to his lips. A raspy, desperate sound burst from her throat when his lips captured the dark-brown nipple. She made the sound again as he began his lip action.

"Seven months of doing without can be seven lifetimes to a girl," she quavered, her head bent down toward his. "Just a little more of this and I'll be coming all over myself."

He withdrew his lips. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Merciful heavens no!" she sobbed. "But what I really want is for you to do me the way that girl over there is doing him." She nodded toward the trio not far away; there, the girl's head bobbed up and down over the bony man's hips. "Just once. As a dessert, sort of, before the full meal."

"Then get on your hands and knees." And when she did, Jason rolled to his back and squirmed his head under her exposed pussy. "Now ease back and down," he instructed, reaching up and around to circle' her thighs with his arms, suspecting she might go berserk when the sweet fire struck. Because her need seemed tremendous, his masculine ego insisted he give her the full treatment, and he didn't want her breaking free in her moment of glory.

Gently he worked the tip of his protruding tongue through her white-blonde fleece and into the hot moistness of the smoldering little valley. He heard breath escape her lungs in a long, sizzling hiss as the end of his tongue began traversing the length of the valley; first up one side and then down the other, but ignoring the pulsating passion switch twitching near the top Of her cleft. He continued these tantalizing ministrations for some minutes, at the end of which Wilma was a quivering, moaning mass of female in agonizing heat.

Momentarily he rested, then stroked her cleft with broadened tongue several times and abruptly seized her fiery rapture toggle between pursed lips to commence tugging vigorously.

Wilma's horrendous scream shattered the relative quite of the area with the force of thunder. Promptly on the heels of the first scream there followed a second. Then a third. By this time the stunning effect of unleashed passions's exploding assault wavered, and she began struggling within the throes of maddening ecstasy. Had not Jason's arms circling her thighs held her firm she would have broken free immediately. Even so, his grip did not hold her still. It merely held her in place so he could continue his action.

Immediately following the initial shock of rapture's attack a fluttering series of weird, inhuman cries trembled from the girl's. The cries soon dissolved into spasmodic burst of incoherent jibberings. She bucked and heaved like a wild thing as both hands clawed chunks of sod loose. These chunks were hurled into the air behind her, much as they would have been from an angry bull pawing the earth. Even when Jason finally released her and withdrew his head from under her steamy crotch bits of earth and grass continued to fall.

She fell heavily to her side as he propped himself on an elbow close by. Her eyes were out of focus as she lay there; her lips still moved, but no sound came, and her belly muscles twitched. Minutes passed before she recovered sufficiently to speak.

"You almost killed me." Accusation was in her tone and to Jason's surprise he noted a tinge of fear in her eyes as they held his. "I thought my heart was going to stop."

"Go on," he chuckled, choosing to disregard the fear. "It's never killed anybody yet."

"How do you know?" she demanded aggressively. "You haven't been present every time a couple were doing it."

He studied her for a long moment before answering. "Why this sudden change of attitude? A few minutes ago you were all for it." Her switch was puzzling. At the moment, forcing his attention on the girl was far from his mind, though he did feel she should reciprocate in some form or other. Certainly she had little to gain by becoming abusive.

"And so you're cutting me off?" He snapped his fingers. "Just like that."

"Exactly, buster." She snapped her fingers in return and began getting to her feet. "Just like that. You get any of this stuff of mine and you'll have to take it." With this she turned and strode from the cluster of trees toward the swimming pool.

Jason sat dumbfounded-but only for a few seconds; only until his mind made the decision for him and he sprang to his feet. Dam a sassy wench who thought she had private stock! Or exclusive stock, anyway. At Camp Sunair? He'd accept her challenge. He'd take some of her stuff, but not because he couldn't get relief from any of a couple of dozen other women on the grounds. He'd take some of it simply because the tone of her voice implied she didn't think him man enough to do it. Besides, he didn't like being called buster. Wilma was twenty-five yards away when he set out in hot, determined pursuit. At that same instant she glanced over her shoulder.

A tiny yelp of fright burst from her lips when she saw him bearing down on her with the speed of an express train. Fleet as a woodland nymph with a lusty satyr on her trail she began skimming over the grass and by the time they reached the near corner of the swimming pool she had decreased Jason's rate of gain to practically nil. Nevertheless, he was still gaining when they neared the first row of cottages-each running with all speed possible-and Jason knew he would have caught the girl by the time she reached the edge of the woods beyond the cottages if luck had not intervened. Luck in the form of Stan Constiner, 'his broker.

Stan stepped from behind one of the cottages as they raced toward it. Only a moment was necessary for him to take in the situation and his voice lifted in a glad shout as he hooked one arm about the fleeing girl's waist as she sped past. The inertia of her interrupted flight threw both to the ground.

Jason was upon them in a flash. Wilma was even faster in breaking free of Stan's arm about her and Jason barely had time to lunge forward, seizing one of her ankles, before she was off and running. He jerked her to the ground again, now thoroughly angry, determined to give her a rodding she would not soon forget.

After a moment's frenzied grappling he had her by the hips, her buttocks drawn tightly against him, and was trying to decide upon the best method of procedure when Stan scrambled to his knees in front of her and slipped an arm around under her neck. Wilma was pitching and bucking like a mustang crazy on loco weed in her efforts to escape the two men, but all to no avail. Despite her struggles, she was helpless in the grip of the two men.

"All right, Jason," Stan Constiner chortled gleefully, enjoying himself no little at being able to take part in a bit of polite rape. "Go ahead! Pour it to her! Give her a good one!"

Jason did not need his broker's advice. Already he had managed to work his way between Wilma's thrashing legs, and the blunt head of his anxious cock was hard against the white-blonde thatch of angel floss under the center of her squirming buttocks. These squirming buttocks, in fact, saved him considerable extra effort, for as Wilma continued her struggles to free herself, all the while whimpering and begging, Jason felt the hot, moist kiss of her cunt on the end of his weapon. He already had a firm grip on her hips; and when he realized what was happening, all he did was lift her knees from the ground, apply pressure with his own hips, and let her wiggle all she pleased. Looking down he saw his massive invader being gradually gobbled up into her belly.

When Wilma realized what was happening it was altogether a different matter, judging from her actions and from the savage noises that came from her lips. By the time the huge attender was buried to the shaft under her buttocks her exertions became so violent she butted the grinning Stan Constiner solidly in the gut. His grin vanished with a surprised grunt and he released her, sagging to the grass with both hands clutching his middle had to let'er go," he groaned.

"I was about to ask you to, anyway," Jason told him. He leaned forward over Wilma, now on her hands and knees, shifted his grip to cover each of her hands with one of his, before she knew what was happening, and growled in her ear.

"All right, Miss Feisty Fanny. Let's see you get away from 'buster' now."

There was no way the girl could get away; not with his legs between her spraddled thighs and his body draped over her and holding onto her hands with both of his. With her thus at his mercy and his big cock sunk to hub, he commenced a vigorous, short-stroked hunching against her rear.

She squealed like a castrated pig and began buck-jumping over the grass. Stan Constiner, recovered from the blow she had given him, crawled along beside them on hands and knees crowing with delight.

"Rod'er, Jason!" he cried in his excitement. "Rod'er good!"

Wilma continued to buck-jump, her actions not unlike those of a horse with its hind-feet tied, and carrying the lustily hunching Jason with her. Strange noises issued from her throat. She tossed her head from side to side, her white-blonde hair flying loose as her contorting hips fought the impaling shaft. Jason knew that within seconds the dam inside his loins would be rent asunder. He was correct.

When the girl under him became aware of the scalding tide of man-seed flooding her inner belly she went berserk, yowling and caterwauling like an over-sexed banshee at rutting time, buck-jumping with the strength of one twice her size, and at one point almost breaking free. But Jason was too far gone in the raptures of orgiastic upheaval to permit this, though he did unconsciously force their elbows to the ground, dropped his full weight against her back and stopped her moving about, never once ceasing his vigorous stud-work at her rear.

As his rapture was slowly fading and his action began to lose its fire he could feel contracting muscles inside her squeezing and milking at his pistoning rod. Only when he realized that she, too, was wallowing in a morass of climactic emotions did he begin to suspect that her fear of his assault had been faked.

"Ye gods!" Stan Constiner said from close beside them as Jason withdrew and Wilma stretched out on the grass, bell y down. "I've never seen anything like it before in my life. Sam Norris said he figured she had a penchant-from something Ed Carson told him one time." He nodded toward the still-quivering Wilma. "She was married for a few weeks to Ed's wife's kid brother, Jimmy, who was killed in an accident a few months ago. Jimmy told Ed that Wanda liked to be chased all over the house before they did it-before she'd let him have it even." He shook his head in wonder. "Man, did she really throw a fit!"

"I can believe that," Jason told him, remembering Wilma's flight and pretended fear. Mentally he shrugged as he got to his feet. Everybody had their preferences. For a short space he stood looking down at the girl who had not yet returned in full to the world of reality. "Let's go for a dip in the pool," he said to his broker, turning toward the water.

"Not me. I'm going to smell me out another piece of strange stuff. There're a few choice broads here I haven't had this thing in yet."

After another glance at Wilma Smith, Jason made his way toward the swimming pool where several men and women were playing in the water.