Chapter 10
At four-forty-five every afternoon, Monday through Friday, Sheila Donovan began to clear her desk, and at the same time felt the usual rush of excitement. In thirty minutes, she'd be in bed with Eddie for a solid half-hour of slow, dreamy fucking, and that was merely a warmup for the really wild session they had at bedtime.
Two days after Jenny disappeared, Sheila had moved into Eddie's apartment, the only solution, he'd explained to her, because they were both oversexed. Three days after that Sheila had found a job as a legal secretary. Her earlier secret fear that she'd end up as a prostitute seemed silly now that she got thoroughly and passionately fucked by Eddie every morning and night. In the morning it was usually in the shower, but this morning, for some odd reason, Eddie had her wildly groaning on his lap at the breakfast table, unable to wait for the shower. They just couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was a chemical reaction, Sheila thought; every time she saw his swollen cock she went a little crazy and every time she took her clothes off Eddie couldn't get enough of her.
If it weren't for Jenny's sudden disappearance, everything would be perfect. Aside from worrying and wondering about her little sister at odd times, Sheila was blissfully happy. Eddie had already thrown out a few hints about marriage, but Sheila wouldn't push him either way, too grateful to make up for all the dreary sexless years.
Occasionally, Eddie said he had to work late, and a couple of times there were female phone callers who hung up when she answered the phone, but Sheila said nothing to him. If Eddie wanted a little variety on the side, it was perfectly all right with her. As a matter-of-fact, she benefited most, since he invariably came home feeling guilty and was extra considerate with her, giving her a series of orgasms that left her limp and panting with gratitude.
If only it weren't for Jenny....
A month had passed since Jenny disappeared so strangely that morning, but Sheila found herself worrying about Jenny less and less. Her job and Eddie kept her too occupied. She was either happily working or happily fucking or fussing over an elaborate dinner for Eddie, or occasionally going out with him to various bars for a drink. He was proud of her lush, statuesque body and she knew he secretly enjoyed the stares of envy from other men.
If only it weren't for Jenny....
At five o'clock precisely, Sheila said good night to her boss, a smooth lawyer in his forties who carefully kept their relationship strictly business, since he'd seen Eddie, and rode the elevator down in her office building. She waited for Eddie to pick her up in front of the building entrance on Wilshire, ignoring the hungry looks of passing men. She watched the traffic for his black Ford, and when a gleaming new white Cadillac convertible pulled up at the stoplight a dozen feet away, Sheila glanced at it, looked away and suddenly looked back in stunned disbelief.
Jenny was driving.
It was Jenny, even though her hair had grown and she wore enough makeup to pass for twenty-one. Sheila ran to the edge of the sidewalk, crying out her name.
Jenny didn't hear her but the beautiful young black girl beside her did, and she told Jenny. Grinning, Jenny pulled the Caddy over to the curb and jumped out. For a minute Sheila hugged her fiercely, then stepped back to look at her.
The change in her little sister was astounding. She wore an expensive minidress that flaunted her beautiful ripe tits and thighs, but the real change was in Jenny's eyes. Gone was the lost-little-girl look, replaced by a striking hard beauty that brought whistles from passing men.
Her eyes glowed with a strange light, a wild excited light that knew infinitely more than a fifteen-year-old girl should.
Jenny had become a swinger, a hard ravishing swinger, her luminous eyes constantly darting at both men and women as she talked to Sheila.
"I meant to call you, honey," Jenny said with a light laugh, "but honestly, I've been so damn busy. I'm living with friends now, beautiful people, Sheila, they've sort of adopted me, like foster parents, you know?"
Before Sheila could respond, Jenny was glancing at her new gold watch, talking in a rapid nervous voice:
"Look, Sheila, I'm double parked here and I can't really stay and talk-I'm on the way to score some dynamite grass for a party, a fantastic party." She dazzled Sheila with a knowing smile and without even glancing behind her motioned to the black girl in the car.
There was a huge fierce-looking black Doberman in the back of the Cadillac, Sheila noted for the first time. Its smoldering eyes stayed constantly on Jenny as she talked and moved with a stream of provocative, sexy mannerisms.
The black girl got out of the Cadillac and stood next to Jenny. She was breathtakingly beautiful, Sheila thought, with huge almond eyes and a strikingly sensuous body. She couldn't have been older than Jenny and yet, like Jenny, she seemed infinitely older and wiser.
"This is my best friend, Crystal," Jenny said, squeezing the black girl's hand, and a melting look passed between the two young girls that shocked Sheila. There was no mistaking that glance: It was raw naked passion, pure desire, unashamed sexual hunger.
"This isn't my car," Jenny smiled, waving at the Cadillac with nonchalance, "it's my folks-uh, friends, I mean. I'm getting my own new car next week, a Jaguar convertible and it's going to be paid for, Sheila! A gift from my friends."
"Who are these people?" Sheila asked. "Jenny," she suddenly whispered, clutching her hands tightly, "what's happened to you, darling? You're so changed, so incredibly different-"
"I'm living," Jenny said vehemently, jerking her hands away. "I'm getting my money's worth, Sheila, I'm digging it, believe me."
The black girl was getting back into the Cadillac and in a swift movement Jenny was dancing toward the car like a beautiful nymph in the sunlight, grinning and laughing with delight, slipping away from Sheila rapidly.
"Jenny!" Sheila cried. "Wait-give me your address, your phone number, darling-"
"I'll call you someday!" Jenny shouted, and a few moments later the Cadillac leaped into the stream of traffic.
Stunned, Sheila looked after it, peering anxiously, losing it after a minute. She knew intuitively she would never see Jenny again.
With tears in her eyes, she waited for Eddie at the curb, tormented by a single question:
What had happened to Jenny on that long night? What could possibly have changed her forever, transformed her from a sweet innocent little girl, a shy virgin, into a wild, brazen swinger overnight? Who did it?
Sheila knew that her little sister had somehow found her bizarre destiny, and there was no turning back. And Sheila sensed with a certainly that she herself had triggered the whole depraved chain of events by her own lewd hunger in one violent hour with a brutal man.
And as long as she lived, Sheila knew she would be haunted by that question:
What had happened to Jenny that night?