Chapter 4
Penny Williams was an unusually attractive girl and knew it. With her reddish blonde hair, cute features, generous up-tilted young tits and lush hips swinging, she was a real eye-stopper. She generally appreciated the lustful, head turning looks she always got from the males aged eighteen to sixty on her way to work, but today she was too troubled.
She entered the law office of Alfred Higdon and sat town before her typewriter. Mr. Higdon had come in and rushed out again for court, but there was about five dictaphone belts for her to transcribe. She put on the earphones and heard Mr. Higdon droning away on some letter and then she flicked the machine off. She simply couldn't concentrate. She was still too upset by the ghastly scene she had witnessed by accident on the old beach road last night.
She had actually seen that man raising his hands from he woman's lifeless body. Penny had practically seen him kill her. There had certainly been no question that the man had done the deed, considering the way he had looked. And there was no question that the woman was dead. The glimpse Penny had gotten of the victim's discolored fact tongue protruding, and the limp, twisted way in which he body had been spread out in the sand would have convinced anybody.
One look at the man's sweating face-the eyes glassy and almost bugging from their sockets-had been enough to make Penny turn and run. She hadn't said a word and neither had he.
As she drove away, she had intended to go right to the sheriff's sub-station and make a report, as an law-abiding citizen would do. But the man's horrible, evil face had haunted her.
He had killed in cold blood, strangling the life out of that woman's body. Would he hesitate to do the same to Penny if she talked?
He wasn't a local man. Penny knew that because the Continental which had been parked on the road with it lights on and one door open had borne a New York dealer's name and address on its license frame.
What if she talked and the police couldn't find the man right away? What if, in the meantime, he returned to Lynbrook or sent someone else to kill her? The way the man had looked, she knew he would be capable of killing again.
Penny hadn't really decided against reporting the murder and describing the man she had seen do it. She had just wanted to think it over-to sleep on it. But by that morning the body had been found and word of the crime had spread over the whole town. It was about the only thing that people were talking about.
Penny had first heard it at the grocery when she'd gone out to buy milk and rolls for breakfast. Then one of her mother's friends had called to talk about it before Penny had left for work. Later her boyfriend, Jack, ha called her at the office.
She hadn't been prepared to have anyone mention the crime to her so soon. Since she hadn't made up her mind about what she wanted to do, she had acted as if she hadn't known about it. After she'd done that, how could she do an about-face and tell her story of having seen the man commit the crime? What would people think of her?
So she had remained quiet. And now she was deeply troubled.
Her boss, Mr. Higdon, had been the only one who hadn't mentioned the crime. He'd been in such a hurry to get to court in Hempstead, that he'd hardly even bid her good morning.
Alfred Higdon was one of the well-known lawyers in Lynbrook. He'd practiced law there for over twenty years and just about everybody in the area used him whenever they had legal matters to take care of. As a result, he had a thriving practice, with plenty of work to keep a secretary busy. Penny had worked for him for almost two years-ever since she'd completed her course in the Hempstead business school.
She didn't know how much longer she could stand it though, living in a small town and caring for an invalid mother. Yes, and dating Jack Brooks, too. Jack was becoming insistent about their getting married. He didn't want to wait any longer. But Penny didn't really want to marry him. Looking back on it now, she could hardly understand how she and Jack had even become engaged. It had been just something she had drifted into. She guessed. Like a bit of wood floating down a stream that gets caught in the weeds. Her entire life seemed to have been like that. She had never really done anything, in the sense of planning it objectively. She had always just let things happen to her. Her job with Mr. Higdon had happened. He had spoken to her mother and her mother had made the arrangements.
Her affair with Jack had come about in much the same way. Not through her mother, of course. But Penny had drifted into it. She had met Jack right after she and her mother had arrived in town. Jack had liked her and had asked her to go out. She had accepted him without being attracted to him at all, and that's the way it had started.
Even coming to Lynbrook hadn't been of her own doing. Her mother's doctor had advised a climate near the shore for her, and so they had moved down from Syracuse Her mother's meager savings had barely covered the down payment on the house and seen them through a yea During that time, her mother had suggested that Penny take a business course and then look for a job in Hempstead, the nearest town of any size. When the opportunity to work for Mr. Higdon right there in Lynbrook had appeared, however it had seemed perfect-to her mother, at least-and so, of course, Penny had taken it.
But Penny, as would any twenty-year-old, had her own ideas about what she wanted to do.
The conflict between what she seemed to have to do and what she wanted to do had become sharper in recent weeks. And she knew why. It was because of Jack. He had become very insistent.
He wasn't insisting on screwing her. Not just like that at any rate Jack had never insisted on it. He was what the elder ladies of the town referred to as a "good boy". He was good, Penny admitted. Good and dull. He would probably spend the rest of his life in Lynbrook, eventually inheriting the drug store which his father owned and probably continuing to operate it as long as he lived. That meant his wife would be stuck in Lynbrook for the rest of her life, too.
For that reason alone-even if there had been no other-Penny wouldn't have wanted to marry him.
But there was another reason. An even better reason The simple truth of the matter was that she didn't love Jack Brooks. They had gone together for over two years and since she hadn't learned to love him in that length of time she knew it was a certainty that she never would.
As she sat staring at the typewriter, her thoughts having now entirely shifted from the horrible murder of the night before to her own personal situation, Penny forced herself to remembering a certain boy. He was the first boy her life-the only boy with whom she had been intimate.
His name was Ritchie.
She and Ritchie had been high school sweethearts in Syracuse.
They had planned to get married, but Ritchie had gone into the service, and then her mother's health had made it necessary that she and Penny leave Syracuse, Ritchie and Penny had exchanged letters for awhile, but their love hadn't had enough strength to sustain it under adverse circumstances, and the correspondence had dwindled off. Still, she thought about Ritchie a lot.
Engagement to Ritchie-even as indefinite as their future had seemed-had been a lot different than engagement to Jack. To Ritchie's way - of thinking, the relationship had entitled him to certain privileges with her body beyond just kissing and light petting. Penny had gone along with only a small amount of persuasion. After all, they had loved one another and they had intended to get married. And, anyway, she had wanted to. Ritchie had been a very attractive boy. His touch had done things to her - things quite different from the touch of Jack.
In the ensuing three years, Penny had thought a lot about the things they had done.
Now she thought of one date in particular. She was seventeen, as was Ritchie. They had dated twice before. On this occasion he'd taken her to a rock 'n roll bash at the fairgrounds auditorium outside of town. On their way back, they had parked at a quiet spot. She and Ritchie had kissed before. He had kissed her was their first date, as a matter of fact. On the next date they had remained for a while in his car in front of her house and they'd kissed several times. Also he had tried to feel her breasts. Though she had pushed his hand away, his touch had thrilled her.
Now, as he brought his car to a stop on a quiet country road and turned on the seat to face her, Penny was aware of an intense excitement building up within her. How far would he try to go? she wondered. And what would she do? Would she let him have his way?
He pulled out cigarettes. "Want one?" he asked.
"You know that I don't smoke, Ritchie." They had gone through that on their first date.
He grinned. Ritchie Craig was slim, light-haired, and had a rather cynical cast to his youthful face, his lips thin and mobile and his blue eyes dropping slightly at their corners.
He said, "What do you do, anyway, Penny? For kicks, I mean."
Penny looked at him. Though they were the same age, she seemed younger. She wore her lustrous brown hair in a soft and unsophisticated style, and her clothes were definitely school-girlish.
This reflected her mother's influence, of course. Mrs, Williams hadn't wanted Penny to grow up fast. Penny was all she had, the girl's father having died when she was four years old.
"Well?" Ritchie pressed. "Drink beer, do you?" She shook her head, her eyes rather wide. "Pet?" "Ritchie!"
He slipped the cigarettes back in his pocket without having lit one and moved closer to the girl. She felt a kind of interna] trembling. His body was now pressing against hers and they were so completely alone. There was no one anywhere around.
Ritchie supped his arm along the top of the car seat behind her. "What's wrong with petting? I'll bet you've never even tried it, have you?"
"Well I... " He wrapped his fingers around her right shoulder and pulled her more tightly against him. "Have you ever let a guy kiss you-the real way, I mean?"
"You kissed me the other night," she reminded him, turning her face toward his. This brought their lips close enough for him to kiss her without having to move his head hardly at all. Penny thrilled at the thought, knowing that a kiss was surely coming.
But Ritchie took his time and grinned. "You are green, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?" The girl stiffened slightly.
"You aren't hip," Ritchie said. 'That kissing we did the other night-that was baby stuff. You want me to show you what a real kiss feels like?"
"Now, Ritchie..."
"Relax, chick. Nobody's gonna hurt you. And nobody will know, either. I ain't one of those cats that tells things. Anything you do with me is between us. Understand?"
'1-I guess so. But I don't really know what you're talking about."
Penny had thought it best to play dumb right then, thought it wasn't all play-acting. She'd had very little experience with boys.
"Kissing," Ritchie said. 'That's what I'm talking about. Real kissing, if you want the truth."
A new tingle went through Penny's body. She'd heard about French kissing, of course. It was with the tongues. But she'd never kissed a boy that way and no boy had kissed her that way, either.
"I don't think we'd better," she said, having difficulty keeping her voice steady.
"Why not? Don't you want to find out what it's like?"
Ritchie's warm breath was striking her cheek and his fingers seemed to burn her where they had hold of her upper arm.
He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing hers. "Here. We'll try it once. You tell me if you like it."
Penny parted her lips to speak and, at that precise moment, Ritchie clamped his open mouth against hers. Her heart lurched and began beating furiously at the touch of his tongue. He found her tongue and caressed it gently.
Penny moved her tongue just a little, almost without conscious direction, and this heightened the thrills which were racing through her.
Ritchie began to work his tongue.
Penny was suddenly warm, her entire body having seemed to ignite all at once.
She pulled away.
"What's the matter?" Ritchie demanded, catching his breath.
"That makes me feel so funny," she said, noticing a slight hoarseness in her voice.
"Funny how-good or bad?" "Well... good."
Ritchie grinned. "Let's try some more."
Before Penny could do a thing to stop him-as if she had really wanted to-his lips were pressing her again. More insistently this time. And his tongue searched for hers once more. Penny let her tongue move to his ... A new sensation of delight shot through her as she felt Ritchie's hand on the front of her pink sweater. His palm was against one of her tits and then he was wrapping his entire hand around it and he was squeezing - She pushed at his hand and pulled her lips from his at the same time. "No!" she said.
But Ritchie kept his hand there. He was teasing her carefully, pressing his fingertips to the lush softness of the girlish breast which was encased in the silken cup of her brassiere.
"You like that, don't you?" he asked. "How does that make you feel?"
"It makes me feel funny," Penny answered frankly. "Ritchie, I'm afraid."
He laughed softly and nuzzled her ear as his hand continued to feel the resiliency of her breasts. There's nothing to be afraid of, Penny. I love you. And I think you kind'a flip for me too, don't you?"
"I like you a lot, Ritchie," she managed, her hand more or less limply holding onto his wrist as his fingers squeezed her tits rhythmically but with great gentleless."
No other boy had ever done that to her and she'd had no idea how good it would feel. It was just wonderful! She wanted Ritchie to keep on feeling her titties. Now she was sorry she had worn a brassiere.
Ritchie let his hand slide down to her waist and, before she realized what he was doing, he had slipped his fingers underneath the bottom of her sweater and was running them upward across her bare skin.
Penny thought desperately, Stop him! I must stop him!
But she didn't want to stop him. She wanted him to seek and find the naked mounds of her tits and to squeeze them and heighten the delirious feeling that had taken possession of her entire body.
His fingertips touched the bottom edge of her brassiere and, in only a moment, succeeded in working themselves underneath. Now they were creeping upward and outward over the lush satiny swell that was her right breast.
"Noohh ..." she moaned softly as one of his fingertips touched her nipple.
Electricity seemed to pass from his hand to the extremely sensitive flesh that tipped her breasts. The normally soft skin was not soft any more. Now, as he held it between the tips of two of his fingers, her nipple was an exclamation point of passion, pressing out and upward.
"Oh ... oohh ..." she said in sweet torture.
"Let's take off you sweater and bra, huh?" Ritchie asked huskily. "I want to see those pretty tits of yours. Please, baby..."
"We shouldn't," she said, even as another voice inside her was urging her to let him. She felt giddy, as if she were wavering on the very edge of a cliff and about to fall over.
"It will be neat, Penny," the boy pleaded. "You'll like it. I'll be good to you. I just want to hold them a little. And kiss them. You've never had them kissed, I'll bet."
Hie thought shocked her - but wonderfully. "I've never even let a boy touch me there."
"Then I'll show you what it's like."
He was already pulling her sweater up and there seemed to be nothing Penny could do. She couldn't fight. She didn't want to fight.
Her sweater came over her head and then he was going for the hooks on the back strap of her brassiere. The white bra was packed to overflowing, with Penny's tempting creamy tits bubbling above it.
Ritchie knew just how to unhook the bra.
It opened.
Ritchie pulled it away and down her arms.
"Man!" he said, staring at her naked breasts. "Man alive, beauties!"
"You really like them?" Penny asked against the constriction which threatened to close her throat. She felt flushed and giddier than ever-seemingly about to fall into a pit from which she might not be able to save herself.
"Wowww ..." the boy breathed as his hands cradled the surging pink-capped breasts. He held them gently, letting his thumbs and index fingers lightly test their softness. "I've never seen such tits."
Though his mumbling compliment had expired uncompleted, it nevertheless gave Penny a tremendous sense of pride. She could tell by his tone and the way he was staring that he really liked what he saw.
She had never been quite sure whether her breasts were the kind boys especially liked. Maybe they were too big, she had thought, or maybe the circles around the nipples were too wide, or maybe the nipples themselves were too prominent.
But now she knew.
Ritchie liked them.
Ritchie was almost going ape over them. He was squeezing them in his hands and shaking them gently back and forth. He was moving them on her chest and pulling at them. He made her nipples ache as he drew them toward him between his fingers and thumbs and then as he rolled them, and flicked, and ...
He bent his head down and forward.
"Oh, God!" Penny gasped and she clutched him around the neck.
He had one of her nipples in his mouth and he was pulling on it. Thrills rolled through her like tidal waves. She felt as if she was drowning in liquid fire.
Oh, how she wanted him! She wanted him to do more ... She wanted him to ... fuck her!
But she couldn't let him do that! It wasn't right and it wasn't safe. Her mother had warned her. She'd heard about what had happened to other girls.
Ritchie moved from one of her big beautiful breast-buds to the other. His tongue worked again. He drew it across the edges of his teeth. The delicious excitement of his tit-caressing drove her almost out of her mind.
Then she did something impulsively. Had she thought about it, she never would have dared. But she was beyond thinking. All she could do was to feel and thrill and discover. She placed her hand on him, on the bulge in his pants where his cock was.
She gasped.
Ritchie jerked upright. "Yeah, baby," he said huskily. "No ... no ... " Proceeding blindly-spurred by a mixture of curiosity and desire-Penny delved onward.
Ritchie showed her what to do. She caught on fast.
The boy pressed backward against the car seat, his eyes jammed shut. She couldn't stop. She was caught in the fascination of it all, as if she were hypnotized.
"Oh!" she cried out, as he unzipped his fly and exposed his huge throbbing prick.
"It's all right," he gasped.
He plunged his hands beneath her skirt and began to run them upward along her bare legs.
Suddenly, shocked out of the spell which had gripped her Penny fought him like a tigress, pressing her knees tightly together. Her naked white tits quivered and shook in the moonlight.
"No ... no ... no ..." she said.
Ritchie stopped and removed his hands from her cuntlips.
"I'm sorry," he said desperately.
"It's all right." She bit down on her lip. She thought for a moment that she was going to cry. "Please take me home."
She didn't see Ritchie for awhile after that-except at school, of course, where they passed one another in the corridors or on the grounds at noon and between classes. Ritchie tried to talk with her but she merely continued on her way, giving him only a civil greeting.
She felt ashamed over what had happened. Actually she blamed herself more than Ritchie. Her liking for him-her love, she now believed-had, if anything grown stronger.
Her desire for him had grown stronger, too. She wanted to have him in the real way-Still, she was afraid. Anyway, she didn't see how they would ever get close to one another again, after how she had foolishly bungled everything on their last date.
But they did get together again.
Ritchie telephoned her at home. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally she agreed to out with him again.
As soon as they were alone, he told her how much he loved her and wanted to marry her. All the emotion she'd been suppressing burst into the open. She cried and said she loved him, also. And she accepted his proposal. They talked about getting married right after graduation day.
And that night Ritchie took her on the back seat of his car.
She let him undress her piece by piece-blouse, brassiere, skirt, and half-slip. It was awkward in the confined space of the automobile, but Penny helped, wriggling her body as Ritchie's avid fingers stripped the clothing from her.
Finally she was down to nothing but her thin silken panties which were a delicate pale pink. Never had she experienced such a thrill as when the boy's hands grasped and pulled the elastic downward, turning the panties inside out. The nylon clung for a moment, but Penny's twisting and Ritchie's tugging soon set them free and they slid down her legs and then the rest of the way.
Her pants were off, she suddenly realized, Ritchie had pulled them right off her!
As she eagerly awaited what was to happen next, Ritchie proceeded ...
Laughing, in spite of the passion which had both of them in its spell, Ritchie pushed her hands away from his cock.
"Not this time, chick," he said.
He bent over her ... kissing and caressing more intimately than ever before. He held and squeezed her breasts. He kissed the thick spires of her nipples. He kissed her navel. She sighed and whimpered.
Then Ritchie moved toward her and the moment of moments had arrived.
Oh, this was wonderful!
He was going to fuck her. Really fuck her. Man, this was wild!
She moved toward him.
He exulted, "Oh, baby, you're the greatest!"
And then neither of them said any more. They couldn't talk. Ritchie thrust his cock between her cuntlips and with a single thrust ruptured her cherry. Then he shoved his prick all the way in up to his balls. A quiver went through Penny as he broke her cherry.
Then Penny felt herself being inexpressibly thrilled as his cock thrust in and out of her tight cunt-hole.
She was getting closer and closer. She was almost there. Just a little more.
She shuddered in the grip of a tremendous pleasure that shook her to the very depths of her soul. Ritchie was making groaning noises and she felt hot sperm jetting into her pussy ... She guessed this is what "coming" was all about...
After she had fallen limp, she realized that Ritchie was quiet, also. He was kissing her neck and nibbling at her ears.
"Oh, baby, that was the greatest hump ever!" he murmured. "Wow, do I love you!"
Penny didn't answer. She felt as if she didn't have the breath to say a word. She didn't want to talk anyway. The moment was too perfect.
She was blissfully happy. Ritchie loved her and she loved him. They were engaged and his cock had made a woman of her.
Maybe more of a woman than the average girl her age she thought as bittersweet memories flooded back. Later there had been another car date that she would never forget. Ritchie had been kissing her nipples delicately and nibbling them lightly making them just erect and cherry-red on the lush whiteness of her breasts. She couldn't keep from wriggling her thighs and ass as Ritchie kept kissing them. Then he moved his lips downward, kissing her navel, his tongue flicking through her little hidden crevice there. She tensed and pressed her buttocks against the seat, but Ritchie cupped their cheeks. He pulled her thighs apart slightly and a shuddering gasp left Penny as she felt his lips sucking on her cuntlips and clitoris. Her thighs worked like runaway pistons in response to the wonderful sensations Ritchie's tongue was sending through her pussy.
A fireworks display seemed to go off inside her and she screamed with a pleasure so intense she never knew it was possible ... she moaned for long moments in Ritchie arms afterwards.
"Now that you've been cunt-lapped by an expert, you're becoming a woman of the world," he had grinned at her...
But now it was almost three years later. She had to contend with the "good" dullness of Jack Brooks and there was this horrible thing she had witnessed accidentally the night before.