Chapter 2
Pigeons by the hundreds waddled fat, feathered bodies across the platforms in the Antwerp train station where Janice Meredith Quincy sat on a wooden bench, gazing up at the arched lead glass ceiling of the landmark train depot, her alligator baggage at her feet. This was the first time she'd been left to her own resources on this vacation, and she wasn't certain she liked it.. . not being able to communicate with any one. Certainly that wasn't French they were speaking, she thought, eavesdropping on a conversation between two young lovers.
Where was Charles now? Dining with his stuffy Aunt Sybil? And would he even mention her, his fiancee! she wondered with a tingle of resentment.
Was there something wrong with Charles that he didn't try to have any sexual contact with her? Or was the problem with her? Janice remembered her mother's scathing voice when once she had denounced a friend of hers, calling her immoral. And she had added in her aristocratic voice, "People of our type aren't interested in sex, Janice."
Well, Charles was 'of her type,' and maybe he truly wasn't interested in sex. Marriage might be only a convenience to him, and Janice an asset, rather than someone he loved. Or maybe the problem was with her. Even though she was beautiful, maybe she wasn't attractive to men in that sense.
She recalled the words of a boarding house suitemate. What was her name? Sandy Perry. She'd said, "Janice Quincy, who would go for her? She's all money and no fun." As Janice sat back on the hard wooden bench, the pigeons cooing about her, she thought about that night years ago, a night she tried to forget in her stronger moments.
Sandy Petty wriggled beneath Terry Adams' hand as it explored her slim body, caressing the firm little breasts, tracing the swell of her belly, stroking her milky thighs. But when it roamed down to the golden patch of silky pubic hair that nestled between Sandy's legs, she pushed it away.
What she and Terry was doing was wicked, she knew. Even when Terry had insisted that they sneak away from the dance, she had known it was evil. If it hadn't been from the gin they'd been drinking from his flask, she never would have done it, but it made her feel weak and warm and wonderful, and when Terry's hand slid to her swaying buttocks, pushing her so close to him that she could feel the hardening bulge beneath his trousers press into her flesh, little prickles of delight crawled up her spine.
Now, lying naked on her small dormitory bed, Sandy tried to push his hand away. "Oh, God, Terry. We can't do that!"
"I know, but it feels good, doesn't it?" whispered Terry.
"Oh, God, yes," gasped Sandy. She stopped struggling and Terry's hand moved cautiously to the small tufted vee between her legs. He probed gently and found the tiny moist cleft, gently parted the delicate hair-lined pink lips, as Sandy quivered uncontrollably from the new experience.
She turned on the bed, now, pulling Terry's lithe boyish body close to her own, his face to hers. Little shocks of pleasure jolted through her as Terry's tongue pried into her mouth, as she swiped her own into his. Suddenly he cupped her firmly ripe young breasts in his two hands and she felt her nipples harden. He rubbed the stiff little buds between his thumbs and forefingers, and Sandy moaned with pleasure. He trailed his tongue down her throat, to the furrow between the twin snowy mounds of her breasts, then over one breast itself. As his hand slid down to her belly again, his mouth closed over one stiff little nipple. He sucked on it with tantalizing delicacy at first, then with increasing pressure. At last he nipped the little mound gently, making Sandy gasp with the pleasure-pain.
The boy ran his tongue over her plump ripe breast again, over the other breast until his tongue found the nipple there. As he fastened his mouth to it and began to suck, his hand once more crawled down her belly to the mass of golden hair and found the warm moist slit of her pussy.
A probing finger worked its way into the tiny orifice, twisting and turning inside the narrow passage, while Sandy writhed and squirmed in ecstasy under his plunging hand.
God, it was good, she thought! I never knew it was going to be like this! She lay on her back, responding to the maddening movement of Terry's fingers, pushing her hips up, rotating them, jerking them back and forth in wild, excited spasms.
"Ohhh, Baby," crooned Terry. "Like it?"
Terry's voice broke the ecstatic spell, and a small, still voice warned her to be careful. My God? Didn't she have any sense? Suppose someone heard? Sandy thought of Janice Quincy, asleep in the next bedroom. Suppose they woke her up? She'd run straight to the head mistress and tattle, the snooty bitch. Suppose she wanted to go all the way? What if she got pregnant? Oh, no! They couldn't do this! "Terry," Sandy begged him, "we've got to stop. Please! Now. Don't do any more."
For answer, Terry only wormed his finger deeper into her warm, moist cuntal hole, withdrew it, plunged it in again, fucking back and forth as she ground her buttocks into the mattress. At last he withdrew his finger to search out and caress the tiny bud of her clitoris and to tease it into hardness.
Sandy quivered, and a long drawn-out moan escaped her lips. Her little cunt was burning with hot flames of desire. As they leapt and licked at her loins, setting her whole being on fire, she knew that nothing . . . nothing at all.. . would make her stop Terry now. She would rather die, she thought. She really would rather die!
Her hand searched for his virile young cock and found it pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs. She grasped it in her hand, and heard a groan of satisfaction from Terry. It felt all soft and velvety . . . but hard, too. She rubbed the foreskin back and forth, teasing Terry, exciting him. She ran her finger over the smooth rubbery head of his glorious young prick, and tickled the parted hole, then ran it along the underside of the hardened length. She stroked harder and harder, abandoning herself to the raw young lust that possessed her aroused young body and moistly steaming pussy.
Terry's fingers plunged deep inside her once more, and began moving slowly, rhythmically while Sandy, impaled on them, squirmed in an insane rhythm of her own. A warm, sticky fluid oozed from her pulsing depths under Terry's manipulations, drenching her pussy and flowing down her sensuously naked thighs.
Terry's awakened young prick jerked in her hand and Sandy cried out in delight. All doubts, all fears were wiped away by the exquisite pleasure she was feeling as Terry finger-fucked her passion obsessed cunt.
In a frenzy of wild abandon, Sandy's other hand slipped down to the sperm-laden balls, encompassed them, and cradled them with infinite tenderness as, with one finger, she stroked the pendulous, silk-smooth sacs. At the same time, she gripped his throbbing cock still tighter, and brought first a deep groan from the boy, and then a spine-tingling wail that resounded eerily in the small dormitory room.
With a violent shudder, Sandy released Terry's sensitive tender balls and grasped his lust-rigid cock between both hands, massaging it furiously, working it back and forth, reveling in the obscene excitement that made itself felt in Terry's heavy breathing, her own overwhelming need for release from the lust that rumbled through her being, Sandy guided the bulbously throbbing head of Terry's swollen cock down to the opening of her gaping pussy. A stifled, muffled scream of "Terrrry!" . . . broke from her constricted throat, and with an uncontrollable jerk, Sandy's knees shot out further, opening a clear smooth path to her tight little virginal passage.
With a grunt, Terry rolled over onto Sandy, and one leg slipped between her open thighs. Abruptly, he withdrew his hand from the young girl's excitedly clasping cunt, and touched her small face. He bent his head to hers, his tongue darting out, finding her lips, flicking them open, finding her teeth, her tongue, to end in a long, wet kiss.
God, it was so wonderful! And how Sandy wanted him inside her! That rock-hard young cock of his plunging deep inside, plundering her virginal hole, making her a woman at last. Her burning little pussy ached for him with an unquenchable desire. Oh, God! She could hardly stand it!
Now, rolling over on top of her, his hardened young penis parted the thin silken hair that guarded her vaginal mouth, eased slowly through the gently pulsating lips and slipped hotly into the fleshy opening of Sandy's unplundered cunt. A shudder of delight convulsed her slight frame while little mewls of pleasure burst from her openly quivering lips.
The boy's surging cock burrowed deeper and deeper into the unresisting walls of her aroused drenched pussy and Sandy struggled to clasp his arching back between her legs. Her buttocks were upturned, now, exposed fully, and as his excitedly swollen shaft sank in to the hilt, his equally swollen balls slapped flatly against the cheeks of her ass. Impaled on his thrusting prick, Sandy's hip rotated wildly in response, bouncing against the mattress, sending the headboard beating against the wall.
A few minutes earlier in the room next door, Janice Quincy, who'd had no date for the dance, had lain in the unhappy darkness, listening. What on earth was going On next door? Sandy was at the dance, wasn't she? Bitterly, she thought, everyone is at the dance but me.
She muffled a sob and wiped her nose on the bedsheet, remembering her mother telling her, "Janice, you're much too young to date," in her usual authoritarian voice. Even if her mother had approved of her going to the dance, who would have asked such a gawky looking, shy girl. None, Janice admitted to herself, with another sob. If only her own flat, childish breasts were as fully developed as Sandy's, her hips as sensuously curved, her buttocks as round. Sandy had had a dozen different boys begging to take her to the dance. Right now, Janice was certain there were that many more fighting to dance with her.
She heard the noise from Sandy's room again, and again she wondered what on earth went on. If Sandy was at the dance, whirling around like a movie starlet, who was making that noise in her room? Janice had to find out. What if it was a robber?
She slipped from the bed, drew a robe over her short, sheer nightie and padded barefoot into the hall. She glided over the thick carpet until she reached Sandy's door, and stood there, afraid at first to knock. But the sounds grew louder and Janice at last summoned up her courage, stepped forward and rapped lightly on the door.
When there was no answer, she rapped again, louder this time. There was still no answer, although the sounds from the room continued. She's in there, Janice thought with annoyance. Why doesn't she answer? Again she knocked, then turned the knob and pushed the door open a crack. The sounds from the room were louder now-a low wail, followed by a moan and then a sigh. Sandy must be sick, she thought, peering into the darkness.
As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, Janice froze in shock. Her legs seemed to go as soft as jelly, buckling under her and caving in. She grabbed the doorknob to keep herself from falling.
Sandy's moans changed to clearly recognizable words, and Janice heard her begging. "Oh, Terry! Honey! Do it to me. Dooooo . . . it! Please, Terry. PLEASE!"
Janice's head whirled as the lewdly pleading words registered in her shocked mind. She longed to run, to hide in some dark corner where no one could see her fear and revulsion. She tried to close the door, but her trembling hands hung limply at her sides, refusing to move. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to lift one foot and put it ahead of the other, carrying her away from this disgusting sight.
A blast of wind seemed to ripple up her back from the base of her spine, raising goose bumps on her neck and arms. She shivered, and her teeth began to chatter. Yet her forehead felt burning hot.
Almost fainting now, Janice's head lolled against the open door. It swung farther ajar, and in the patch of light that now fell across the bed, Janice saw Sandy nakedly sprawled across it.
She tried to shout at her, to save her, somehow, from this wicked thing that was happening. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out but a low groan. She couldn't stand there and watch this vile, filthy scene in front of her, she thought. . . and with that boy Terry, naked like Sandy, straddling the girl as he made love to her.
He panted and writhed above her, groaning unintelligibly as his jutting penis desperately tried to enter Sandy's softly seeping little pussy. "Oh, my God," he groaned, "I want you Sandy. Sandy, do you know what I wanna do? I wanna fuck you."
The foul word struck Janice's ear. He couldn't have mid that. Janice jerked to life and clapped her hands over her ears. But it was too late, for she had already heard Sandy's mewl of obscene pleasure at the foul word and her answer, "I want you to, Terry. Honest I do. I want.. . you . . . to fuck . . . me!"
She reached out and took Terry's throbbing cock in one small hand. It's so big, thought Janice. Why, Sandy's hand could barely go around it. Don't, she pleaded with Terry silently. Oh, God, you'll hurt her!
Sandy moaned again, then guided Terry's swollen cock towards the pink, hair-lined split of her young throbbing hussy. She opened her legs wider, pulling her knees back until they almost brushed her shoulders. Holding Terry's penis in her hand, she stroked the tender little mound of her clitoris with it, moaning softly all the time.
As Janice watched, frozen in horrified shock, Terry eased his blood-swollen penis into the small hole of Sandy's tight little pussy, a twitch of excitement rippled through her own body. Drops of warm, sticky vaginal fluid oozed from her own little virgin orifice, flooding through the gold silk of her pubic hair to trickle hotly down between her thighs. A warm throbbing ache there sent small waves of pleasure darting through her blood. Her little clitoris tingled and Janice, without realizing it, touched it, tentatively at first, then stroked it deliberately.
Suddenly she was aware of what she was doing, and hot, scalding tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh God, Fm as bad as they are," she told herself. Tm evil and filthy. OH, I'm worse." Yet she couldn't stop herself.
Through tear-blurred eyes she watched her suitemate squirm against the white coverlet of her bed as the boy fucked his penis deeper and deeper into her gratefully accepting little belly. Sweat dripped from her body; an unearthly gasp that was more like a shriek of pleasure rippled from her lips.
He slid his hands under Sandy's firmly rounded buttocks, cupped them, lifting the smooth white cheeks from the bed, clenched them, and released them. All the while he forced his penis farther up between the warm moist walls of her open vagina and then, jerking back, he completely withdrew his wetly gleaming cock.
As Sandy bucked and heaved beneath the naked boy, he again with the smooth head of his cock, parted the silken strands of her cuntal flesh and his stiff, proud young cock speared deeply back up into her hotly sucking cunt. It was moving faster now, ramming all the way to her cervix, sliding out, fucking deep into the girl's desperately working belly.
Still transfixed, Janice watched the sordid scene, while the dull, tantalizing ache of her own tight pussy maddened her. She stroked her tiny, budding clitoris into hardness, while electrifying bolts of pleasure shot through her from tip to toe and she quivered. Oh, it was wrong, it was wicked, yet she couldn't stop!
Gently, carefully, she parted the thin pink edges of her cuntal lips. An exploratory finger wormed slowly into her moist throbbing little cunt, and her pleasure mounted to an almost unbearable ecstasy. She slipped another finger into the burning hole, then a third, and her tender, virginal flesh closed around them, sucking them, swallowing them on inside. On the bed the naked couple fucked with wild abandon, oblivious of everything but their own crazed desire.
Sandy rotated her hips wildly, rose to meet Terry's thrusts, then fell back as he withdrew. The rhythm of their lascivious lovemaking became faster as it crescendoed into a nakedly writhing climax. Janice, watching, began to move with them, her fingers matching the thrust of the boy's plunging cock, the lewd, smacking slap of his belly against that of the hotly twisting young girl.
Then a long wail wafted Janice's lust-fogged brain. It was Terry howling, "Ohhh, fuck back, baby, fuck back! I'm cumming! I'M CUMMING!"
Sandy grasped him tighter, her fingernails trailing across his naked buttocks, leaving red welts mingled with white fingernail scratches. Her knees were tightly back up to the twin full moons of her breasts, and pinned there by the weight of Terry's lean, strong body. The flat plane of her crotch opened wide to the pounding, and Sandy welcomed it with little mewls of pleasure. The boy's sperm-filled balls slapped against the rounded cheeks of her upturned buttocks as he rammed again and again into the wetly clinging hole.
Then Sandy's shriek pierced the night air. "Oh, my God!" she squealed, her voice sounding inhuman. "Oh, Terry. Oooo! I'm cumming too!. . . I'm cumming!"
She jerked and thrashed beneath him as his hard, virile cock hammered deep up into the soft fleshy tissue of her cervix. A shudder of overwhelming pleasure shook her, setting fire to her belly, sending tongues of flames licking through her body. She screamed again, calling his name. "Oh, Terry!" And then, with a final, convulsive spasm that signaled the ultimate ecstasy, she lay back, legs splayed out obscenely once more as the boy pumped his hot, steaming sperm deep into her belly, to mingle with those of her own thick, steamy juices.
Janice saw Terry's milk-white sperm spill from Sandy's still wide spread young pussy, flow over her thighs and drip down into the crevice of her buttocks. Her own excitedly twitching little cunt was still impaled on her own fingers, and she moved them back and forth now, back and forth, in and out, deeper and deeper, stimulating the sensitive flesh of her vagina. "Oh, God," she thought. "I can't stand it any longer. "I'M GOING TO EXPLODE!" And then with a shock and wonder, she felt her first orgasm. "Oh, God, I'm cumming too!"
A pleasure so wonderful it was almost pain surged through Janice's climaxing young body, leaving her quivering and shaking. She was lost in a world in which there was no time, no place . . . just bliss and passion.
Slowly the lust ebbed and Janice came back to her senses. A shudder of horror shook her slender body and she was convulsed again with sobs. "Oh, what have I done?" she thought. "WHAT?" She shook her head and rubbed a scalding tear from her cheek, her mother's warning sounding loud and guilt-laden in her mind: "People of our type aren't interested in sex." Janice gasped at the thought of her mother finding out how wicked her daughter really was. She began to sob aloud, now, unable to hold back the tears that flowed down her pale cheeks.
There was a sudden sound from the room where Sandy and the boy lay. Quickly, quietly, she drew the door closed behind her, as Sandy's startled voice asked Terry, "What was that?"
"I didn't hear anything," yawned Terry. "I sure did. It's probably that snoopy Janice Quincy."
"Naw, I'm sure I saw her at the dance," said Terry, bending his head to kiss her throat, then her erect nipples.
"Then you don't know Janice Quincy. Who would ever want to go out with her? She's all money and no fun."
With those words, Janice scurried for her bedroom, jumped in, and pulled the covers over her head.
Now, sitting on the wooden bench in the Antwerp train depot, watching the hordes of weekend travelers queue up for the train, Janice had found her answer. Beautiful as she was, she decided, she lacked a carnal sensuality that all men found irresistible.
Surely Charles, good, kind, Charles had never done anything as despicable as she'd seen that night outside of Sandy Petty's door. Charles was a man fully in control of himself at all times. The problem was her own. Not that she wasn't attractive to men, but that her mind was filled with evil. She would control that wickedness from now on, she vowed, watching with relief as the Amsterdam placard flipped on the board announcing arriving trains.
Yes, she would have a nice dinner in the dining car and retire afterwards to her private compartment. Tomorrow morning at seven o'clock she would be in Amsterdam, the city of a thousand bridges.