Chapter 4

It had been very much in the small hours that Des and Jim had finally taken them home and they had let themselves in by the unlatched back doors of their respective homes. They had both been still slightly high the following day and, although the excuse of an unexpected party was reluctantly accepted, Betty's parents had questioned her about what she'd had to drink and Linda's mother had forbidden her to go out for several nights. A threat which she had, in her usual manner, soon forgotten, being too concerned with her own activities.

But all that had been some time ago, and since then Linda had managed to keep out of her stepfather's way and both girls had seen their new boyfriends several times.

From the pot, which they now took like old junkies, they were to graduate tonight to heroin, "horse," as the boys called it.

Linda had come to idolize Des. He had been kind to her, taking a special interest in her which she'd never enjoyed before. She had also discovered in her a great, yearning capacity for sex in which she realized she was rather less reserved than Betty. She found she could hardly have enough of it and the present advent of her period was interfering with her peace of mind particularly in view of the fact that Des had begun to take an obvious interest in certain other members of the gang which gathered often at Sam's place.

She was calling for Betty at her place tonight and the boys were picking them up near the dance hall.

Linda had put on what she considered her "sexy" clothes to try to retain Desmond's interest. She had a white cotton blouse with a drawstring neck. Underneath she wore no bra and needed none. Her breasts were young and firm enough to have their own uplift and without the bra the nipples pointed through the material and the skin gave a pinkish sheen to the blouse where the breasts bulged at their most voluminous proportions. With it she wore a tight black woolen skirt which clung to her hips and outlined her bottom as she walked. Thus she hoped to fight off any challenge.

"Good heavens what are you trying to do?" Betty asked when she saw her. "You'll get run in for indecent exposure."

"You think Des'll like it?"

"He won't be able to keep his eyes off you to say nothing of his hands."

"Then I'll take a chance on getting run in."

Betty had grown up a lot in the past few weeks. She looked apprehensively at her friend.

"You're getting pretty stuck on Des, aren't you?"

"Don't you think he's worth getting stuck on?" There was a note of complacency in Linda's tone.

"I don't know, Lindy. I'm not sure that I'd want to get stuck on any of them really stuck I mean. I can't see them being very serious about it."

"Des is pretty serious about me," Linda said defensively. "He keeps telling me how no other girl's had the effect" on him that I have."

Betty pursed her lips dubiously.

"I wonder what he meant by that," she said, thinking of the number of times he'd had Linda in the past few days a source of discussion which was, with habit, becoming less and less a source of discussion, more and more accepted as normal.

"Oh, don't be so unpleasant," Linda said, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. "He meant that he thinks I'm very special."

On their way to the dance hall people turned and stared at Linda's undulating buttocks and some men even peered openly at her breasts as the two girls walked towards them and then turned their heads in the act of passing to see them in profile.

"Everybody's staring," Betty whispered, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "It's your tight clothes."

"Walk on the other side of the road if you're embarrassed," Linda snapped impatiently.

"You don't have to get ratty."

They walked for a while in silence, only broken by an occasional whistle from a passing youth, and then Betty spoke, almost timidly:

"Do you think we really should take horse tonight, Lindy?"

"Why not it's supposed to be much better than pot."

"Yes, I know, but it frightens me, Lindy. Some people become slaves to it and then when they can't get it they have to be strapped down and they get in a terrible state so that they'd sooner be dead. I saw a French film about it last year. It was terrible."

"Oh, what nonsense, Betty. They make those films just for propaganda. Des says it's no worse than alcohol and you don't have to become addicted unless you're very feebleminded about it and take an enormous lot."

"I'm not sure we should take it. I just feel that it's wrong."

"Yes," Linda said, "just as wrong as making love. That shortens your life because it makes your heart pump stronger and it can give you a craving too.'

"Oh, that's not the same at all."

"Well, I'm going to have some. Once can't hurt anyone."

Jim and Des were already waiting for them, looking a little annoyed that they'd been kept waiting, but both pairs of eyes focused on

Linda and the annoyance was clearly forgotten.

"Jeez," Des said as she climbed in beside him in the front. "What sort of outfit's that!"

"Like it?"

"Like it! Sure, the way I like a bikini."

A passerby had watched Linda getting into the car and peered in as he passed. Des leaned over and cupped a hand around one of her breasts just to give the fellow the shivers.

"If you walked around like that in Piccadilly," he grinned, "you'd have to have a bodyguard."

Linda put her hand on his fly and squeezed and he felt her thigh in return before putting the car in gear.

"Betty's afraid to have any horse," Linda said as they shot away from the curb.

"No, I'm not." Betty blushed feeling silly now that the boys were there. "I just said that some people get addicted and I didn't like the idea."

"Wait until you've had some," Des drawled over his shoulder. "It's worth an early death."

The usual crowd was at Sam's. It was funny, thought Linda, but nobody ever asked what anybody else did or where they came from. That was the cool way to behave. She still knew next to nothing of the band of young men and girls who gathered there around the figurehead of Sam. All she knew was the small glimpse of their personalities she had during the evening visits.

She noticed with a twinge of displeasure that the girl Des had been fooling with a bit lately was there. She had nowhere near such a good figure as Linda, but she had a wiry body and thighs which promised a strong and energetic sexual power, and her older face with its dark, knowing eyes added to the apparent strength of her personality.

Linda couldn't understand or even believe why Desmond might look twice at the girl while she was there. She knew nothing of the fading attraction of the familiar. ' '

As usual there was a faint aroma of incense at Sam's place. Nobody had ever seen the mistress who owned the flat and nobody had ever asked about her. She was obviously a woman of taste who liked luxurious fittings; apart from that she might not have existed. Indeed some people doubted her existence, but, as was usual with the gang, nobody asked any questions.

"How about a game of strip pontoon?" someone suggested as Sam went into another room to bring back the horse which was going to send them all to paradise. After a little coy hesitation on the part of some of the girls, everyone agreed and cards were fetched.

Linda sat on the floor next to Des, looking at the girl she regarded as her rival, who sat on a divan opposite them. She felt safe next to Des. Apart from Betty, she decided, he was the only person she'd ever loved and of course with Betty it was different.

"Here we are, boys and girls." Sam had returned with a syringe and a little black box. He put the box down in the middle of the group. "That's for the sniffers," he said jocularly. "Those that want stronger stuff had better come over to the table."

"What's he mean, 'stronger stuff?" Linda asked, embarrassed at her lack of knowledge.

"They're mainliners," Des explained. "They have to take it in a vein to get the effect."

She shuddered.

"What a horrible idea sticking needles into your veins."

"Yeah. They're pretty hard cases," Des added. "Not much hope for them."

Linda looked at Betty. She knew Betty was wishing harder than ever that they hadnt agreed to take it. She felt a little squeamish herself now that it came to the point.

"Still all we do is sniff," Des explained. "Easier and not too strong."

He picked up the black box and eased off the lid carefully. Inside was a thick layer of white powder and a little, flat-bladed paper knife.

Des pushed the blade into the powder, covering it with a thin coating. He held it out towards Linda.

"You take it first, Des," she said unsteadily. "Show me how it's done."

He grinned at her, recognizing her nervousness.

"Nothing to it," he said. "You don't have to be scared."

The girl opposite them laughed sarcastically and Linda hated her but didn't look at her.

Des sniffed up the powder, holding one nostril closed and drawing in vigorously for several seconds. He waited a few more seconds and then took some more. He settled back with a look of satisfaction and then filled the knife-blade and passed it to Linda.

"Just sniff it all in one go and then sniff it right back," he ordered. "Don't spill any; it's precious."

The girl laughed again and Linda found difficulty in ignoring her. She felt like flinging the knife into her face.

She was aware of Betty's fearful eyes on her as she took the knife and covered one nostril with her hand. With a quick gesture she sniffed back the fine white powder, feeling it fly up her nostril, tickling her slightly. There, it was done! And so easy. She felt quite pleased with herself.

"How long do we have to wait for anything to happen?" she asked.

"Not very long but don't expect too much," Sam said, coming back from the table, pulling down his shirtsleeve.

Des passed the knife to Betty. The initiates took first place. She hesitated for a moment, but encouraged by Linda's example and the fact that she still looked calm and unharmed, she sniffed the powder with an almost fierce gesture of defiance.

"You'll feel it in your throat," Des said, as the heroin passed slowly round the little group.

Linda cast her thoughts to her throat. Yes, she could feel a slightly thick, powdery sensation. Apart from that she felt nothing. At least she didn't think she felt anything, but, not knowing what she should expect to feel, she wasn't quite sure.

"Who's going to be banker?" Des asked. "Deal, someone."

Linda looked down at her legs half bent underneath her. She moved her hand along one of the calves. Was it her imagination or did her legs seem rather light. Yes, it was true: her whole body seemed to have lost a little of its substance; a very pleasant, almost voluptuous feeling. At the same time, her head seemed to clear abnormally. Everything sounds of voices, movements seemed to move away from her a little but was nonetheless extremely clear.

Betty put her hands to her face suddenly.

"I feel slightly sick," she said.

"A common occurrence first time; won't affect you as soon as you've done the act; bathroom first right, second door on the left," Sam rattled off as if he was quoting a well-known place.

Betty stood up and went quickly to the door.

"She'll be all right immediately," Jim said reassuringly to Linda.

"Funny, I don't feel sick at all."

"Not everyone does. Feel anything?"

"Yes, I feel as if I were a happy ball of marshmallow."

There was a burst of laugher around her in which Linda joined, and then they began to play pontoon.

After a few minutes Betty came back smiling and said she felt fine.

As they played and pieces of clothing came off, jokes flew from one side of the room to the other. It seemed that the spirit of wit was let loose amongst them. Linda was surprised at the ease with which she bantered and capped remarks. Her mind and imagination seemed to be soaring on a magic carpet. All thoughts of home, worries about her stepfather, about everything, began to disappear.

It was true that the cards, the other people, her own hands as she played, seemed to be rather away from her to feel quite natural to her, but the clarity with which she did, said and saw everything was overwhelming. The slightest movement of a foot, or the twisting of a card, was apparent to her without it being even necessary to look up.

She was aware of what clothes were on and which off and how much remained with everyone around her. Above all, she was aware that the girl opposite Desmond was down to her bra and briefs. Another loss to her would be fatal. She grinned to herself. It was all very funny, the thought of this girl who was probably trying to get Desmond, sitting opposite him, right under her nose, too, and slowly undressing.

Betty too, she knew, had had to remove her blouse, but was still well clothed with bra, skirt and briefs (shoes were removed beforehand they didn't count).

The amazing thing was that she, amongst the women, was untouched. She won all the time. But, of course, if she started to lose she'd be stripped quicker than any of them with no bra under her blouse.

The men were lucky. They had jackets, shirts, pants, trousers, socks to take off. Nobody yet had had to remove his trousers.

Once again the girl opposite Des lost. It seemed to Linda that in her imaginative clarity she knew what the girl was going to do before she did it. She tried to will her not to, but it was too late. Instead of taking off her bra and revealing her breasts, which looked skinny compared with Linda's, she wriggled out of her briefs and sat with her thighs together and the muff of hair on her lower belly attracting the gaze like a busby.

After a few lascivious looks by the men several of whom had probably fucked her, Linda thought viciously the game went on. But to Linda's bright, all-seeing eyes, the movement of the girl's thighs was clear. She deliberately opened them, gently at first, just a fraction of an inch and then several inches, at the same time sliding forward slightly on the divan.

Linda felt, rather than saw, that Des too, sitting directly opposite the girl as he was, had noticed the movement. She saw the girl smile at him invitingly and she knew he had a perfect view of her rival's vagina.

She herself, in fact, could see the soft red bunches of the lips down there, sharply clean and naked in contrast with the dark hair.

"You bitch," Linda thought, but with an astonishing elevation of feeling. "If you carry on like that I'm going to tear you limb from limb!" The thought exhilarated her. It seemed a wonderful idea. But now her turn was coming up.

"Buy one, twist, stick." Desmond's turn, and then the banker played his hand. "Pay 21's."

And Linda had lost for the first time.

She was about to take off her skirt, leaving both her hips and breasts thus covered, but the sight of the hussy opposite with her legs splayed apart for Desmond's benefit made her change her mind. She'd give them all something worth looking at. Nobody but Des and Jim had seen what she had up top.

Grinning eyes moved onto her as she began to unpull her blouse. They followed the movement of her fingers undoing the string between her breast-hills, saw it loosen, the whole garment slacken and then she began to ease the blouse out of her skirt, where she'd tucked it like a shirt to pull it tauter over the mounds.

With a quick motion Linda pulled the blouse up over her head and let it slip down her arms and fall to the floor in front of her.

There was a surprised clicking of teeth, a brightening of eyes and almost every penis in the room thickened and rose a few degrees at the unexpected sight of Linda's nudity under the blouse.

She straightened her shoulders and let her breasts arch out provocatively. There was a slight smile of exhilaration and triumph in her eyes and in her gesture. She knew just how much everyone, every man that was, wanted to reach out and run his hands over her breasts. She had come to realize just how beautiful they were.

She could feel Desmond's eyes on her although she didn't look at him. She wondered if he was annoyed at her action or whether he was proud that she could create such a subterranean stir. She'd certainly succeeded in drawing his eyes from the other girl's vagina. She leaned slightly towards him so that he could look down on the curves from above.

The game went on. Everybody took a little more horse. Soon the men, too, were beginning to get down to their last vestiges of underclothing. Betty's breasts were naked, too, and one girl was now presenting a round and naked behind to the rest of the company, lying on her stomach so that they shouldn't see the other side of her a mock purity.

Opposite Des the other girl had also had to take off her bra and Linda was gratified to see that her breasts were meager in comparison with her own.

Even so, Desmond's eyes had left her and his attention seemed to have wandered back to the other girl. His eyes were almost continuously riveted on the aperture between her legs as if he was aching to crawl up it. The girl was well aware of her success and kept getting herself into postures which were as suggestive as she could make them.

Linda, who had joined in the extra helpings of the drug, began in her turn to make suggestive movements of her breasts and of her eyes at other members of the gang, but every so often her eyes flashed back to the girl and Des. Mixed with her sense of exhilaration was a dangerous feeling that she would have to do something violent in order to feel better. She would love to scratch the girl's face, to feel her nails scourging the flesh of that cynical, confident expression. The girl was looking at Des as if she'd already got him into bed with her. The bitch!

While she watched from the corner of her eye in her newfound clarity of vision, the girl actually began to wriggle on the divan, fixing her eyes on Des with a deep look of passion and invitation.

She leaned back slightly from the waist with her thighs apart and moved her buttocks slightly so that her nether lips were thrust out towards Des and then withdrawn. She worked her loins in a way which not only excited him but gave her obvious pleasure as well. And all the time she kept her eyes on his in that fixed come-hither look.

Linda felt the desire to scratch boil up inside her. She knew she was not going to be able to control it long. It was as if she could feel and see several minutes into the future.

She saw Des lean forward towards the girl with a wild grin in his eyes, his lips twitching. He was wearing only his pants and she could see he had a powerful erection underneath, only this time she knew it wasn't for her.

The girl's lips moved as if she were about to say to Des, "Shall we go and fuck?" She had completely forgotten Linda; perhaps she'd never even noticed her, or cared. That thought dug deeper than most of the others.

She dug her nails into her palms, her buttocks tightened under the thin cotton briefs she wore. There was no time to lose, she thought. She had to interfere before the girl got Des any more excited. She had to break the spell.

"Pontoons only," said the banker.

And as if his words had been a signal, Linda pushed herself from the floor with a quick movement of her strong young thighs and launched herself at the other girl. The girl saw her coming at the last moment and there was a look of astonishment in her eyes as one hand caught her a crack on the side of the face and the other scratched at her neck bringing a sudden red perforation along the soft skin.

She put up an arm to ward off the attack and then both girls had rolled off the divan and were scrambling about on the floor while everybody scattered out of their way.

"Somebody stop 'em," Sam said wearily.

"No-let's watch some fun," came the chorus.

'"Long as they don't break anything."

The gang had risen and formed a rough circle around the struggling pair. Nobody moved to separate them. The spectacle of the two bodies, one half nude, the other completely, was too good to interfere with.

"What's it about?" Jim cried.

"Who cares," someone answered. "Maybe they really want to fuck each other." There was a chorus of guffaws. The girls were as delighted with the entertainment as the men.

Linda had more weight than her opponent, but the other girl was very wiry as she soon discovered. She had pushed a knee into Linda's stomach and managed to heave her off and had now rolled over on top of her and was clawing at her hair, banging her head against the carpet.

Des, who stood grinning above them, was well aware of the probable cause of the fight although he hadn't noticed Linda watching him. He'd been losing interest in Linda for some time now that he knew her and her body so well. He really needed a new mate with warm flesh alongside his and the promising gestures of the other girl had whetted his appetite to get between her legs. This fight would serve as a good excuse to push Linda away a little and keep her at a distance. Everybody knew she'd started it and there was a rough and ready morality in the gang. That sort of squabble shouldn't take place. It was up to every female to keep her male interested-and if somebody else could take him away, then there shouldn't be any crying-or fighting. However, it made a bit of fun occasionally.

Des watched closely. Yes, he'd love to fuck this girl. Her buttocks tensed into tight, hollowed globes as she straightened out on top of Linda, scrabbling for a hold. They gave promise of good sexual energy and they looked firm and strong enough to be a delight to an enclosing hand. Her back, too, as she fought was supple with thin traces of muscle around the shoulders. She was really quite sinuous.

She certainly was giving it to Linda. Her hands lashed across each side of her face as she lay half-helpless underneath. Her breasts bobbed in harmony with the blows. Of course, he thought, regretfully, they weren't as fine as Linda's-but one couldn't have everything.

There were crude remarks and shouts of encouragement for one or the other from the surrounding crowd. Betty, who had been about to hurl herself on the girl from behind, had been restrained by Jim who had insisted that each member of the gang had to fight his or her own battles. Now she stood with tears in her eyes, watching as Linda, with a gymnastic effort, managed to sweep her legs up towards the ceiling and clasp them suddenly around the girl's neck, levering her backwards. At the climax of her upward sweep her briefs had suddenly slit between the legs and the tautened cloth had separated in a great rent which ran from the forward point of her vagina lips round to her anus, revealing the whole area as if a curtain had suddenly been pulled aside. There was a cheer of jocular pleasure from the male spectators and the watching girls tittered.

Linda leaned on her elbows, levering the girl backwards with her feet so that her breasts stood out in strain. The girl's hands caught at Linda's feet, trying to pull them from around her neck and suddenly she succeeded and both girls rolled over and sprang to their feet before closing again, their faces contorted now with hatred for each other.

"What a sight," Sam murmured speculatively. He was looking at Linda as he spoke. To him she was strange and new.

The girl punched Linda's breasts as they closed in and, as Linda doubled up from the pain, she gave her a shove which sent her crashing over the end of the divan. Her briefs split the last few inches up the back as she fell facedown and the large, voluptuous ovals of her buttocks shone up into the watching eyes like twin suns. All the men around them had throbbing erections, most of them plainly visible.

The other girl was on Linda in a twinkling, giving her no respite. She was like a seasoned campaigner dealing with an upstart recruit. She put a knee in the small of her back and pulled her hair with one hand, forcing back her face, while she slapped her head with long, sweeping blows with the other.

"Let me go, Jim," Betty tearfully insisted. "I must help her." But Jim held her hard, grinning like a monkey.

Tears welled from Linda's eyes, ran down her cheeks and made the jump to the full warmth of her jutting breasts. She gave a desperate twist and managed to unseat her adversary, who fell beside her on the divan, still clinging to her hair. Linda lashed out blindly and heard the girl give a grunt as the hard little fist connected with her eye.

Linda squirmed over and managed to get in a vicious hair-tug herself which pulled the girl off the divan and onto the floor. Linda was vicious with fury now and she lashed out at her opponent with her bare feet, feeling the give of breasts and belly under the flying toes.

The girl lay protecting her face with her hands, her legs all awry, giving a spread-eagled view of her vagina, which was moist with excitement.

It took her a moment to collect her wits. She winced as the blows caught her and then with a deft movement she trapped Linda's foot with one hand and tugged.

Linda was swept off her feet and crashed onto her back a foot away, her big breasts quivering with the shock, her slim belly heaving up and down, legs flying as if she were in the throes of love.

The other girl leaped on her, punching her in the stomach, scratching her shoulder until long red weals ran down her upper arm.

Slash, slash, slash! Her hands dashed flatly against Linda's burning cheeks and she squatted sharply down on her stomach, ramming her buttocks in Linda's stomach, robbing her of breath.

Linda tore at the girl's pubic hair-the nearest handhold, and the girl squealed with pain and jabbed Linda in the throat with her elbow as she fell forward on her.

The pressure of that elbow cut off Linda's breathing. She suddenly became helpless, curled up coughing, fighting for breath. Her opponent slapped her over the ear a couple of times and then stood up unsteadily, leaving Linda in a half-vomiting heap at her feet.

"Okay," Sam said. "That'll do. Somebody get her a glass of water-and you'd better all get out for tonight or we'll have complaints from below."

The girl was trembling from the nervous effort she'd undergone. She was smarting in several places and her eye felt like a great bump. Then she felt a hand between her legs, running along the length of her passage-entrance, adding to the stimulation she had felt from the fight. She turned and Des put a hand on her breast

"Get dressed and let's go," he said. "There are better ways to use your energy."

Linda was still spluttering on the floor. Betty and Sam lifted her onto the divan. Someone passed the glass of water.

"Better go and let her rest a bit," Sam said.

"No, I'll stay with her," Betty said.

Jim came up behind her and put warm hands over her breasts.

"Well, let's go into the bedroom," he urged.

"Not now, Jim. Linda doesn't feel too good."

"That's all right," Sam said. "Nothing you can do. I'll put a blanket over her. She needs peace and quiet for half and hour."

Betty hesitated. She always felt she was being stupid to insist when other people disagreed with her.

Jim leaned around and kissed her breasts.

"Yeah. Be better for her to have peace and some air," he insisted. "We'll only be at the end of the passage."

"Well-all right. But only for a little whileif you think it's better for her."

"Come on."

Jim followed her out of the room with a hand on her buttocks.

Sam held the glass of water for Linda while she sipped it. Gradually the room cleared and everybody left.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked.

"A bit sick," she croaked.

She lay back on the divan, her ripped briefs still clinging tenuously to her, her full breasts challenging the ceiling. Sam stared at her and felt his throat go dry.

"I'll get you a blanket," he murmured. "Just stay where you are."