Chapter 1
At six fifteen Wednesday evening, Brenda Martin hurried across the lobby of the Plaza Hotel and checked in with the desk clerk.
"I'm here for the Real Estate Convention," she said, signing the registration card. She handed the pen back to the clerk and flipped a loose strand of shiny blonde hair away from her face. "I drove all the way from Ridgecrest and my air condition went out in the middle of the desert," she said. "It must have been a hundred and twenty degrees." Beads of perspiration glistened on her attractive face. "I was afraid I was going to be late," she said, smiling.
The desk clerk appreciated the way her damp, white blouse clung to her pointed breasts, their nipples clearly out-lined through the fabric, but Brenda failed to notice his lustful eyes as she took the key he handed her for Room 314 and hurried toward the elevators. The bellhop struggled to keep up with her as more than one male head turned to watch her figure move through the lobby.
Brenda pressed the up button just as the elevator doors opened. She waited anxiously as the passengers exited. She hadn't expected to recognize anyone on the elevator, but the last person to walk out sent a surprised chill shooting up Brenda's spine. Her breath froze in her throat as she stilled a surprised gasp. Her purse dropped to the floor, spilling its contents. Her face flushed and she quickly bent to her knees to retrieve them.
Oh, my God! I don't believe it's happening, she thought. Her heart raced wildly in her breasts and forced shameful memories of the past into vivid consciousness. Her eyes blurred before her, causing her to grope blindly for her spilled articles. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and forced herself to concentrate on finding her scattered items. The bellhop hurried to help. Brenda was afraid to look up in fear the man had recognized her. She saw her keys on the carpet to her right, but as she reached for them, a highly polished black shoe planted itself on one of the keys in the ring and remained there.
She tugged gently on one of the keys but instead of the foot being removed, the man pressed the keys even more firmly to the floor. Her chin quivering, Brenda looked up from the servile position she found herself kneeling in. The man had positioned himself so that both of his feet were on either side of her, and to see his face, Brenda was forced to strain her neck back which put her face only inches away from the center of his spread legs.
Brenda looked into the cold, ice-blue eyes of Charles Stern. She didn't see the man as he was now, standing above her in a tailored two-hundred-dollar suit and resting his fists confidently on his hips. Brenda saw a seven-year-old memory....
She was kneeling naked, her head bowed, on thick, white-shag carpeting in the bedroom of Charles Stern's apartment. He stood above her, commanding her in a deep, sensuous voice. His words seemed to draw out her very will from her body and controlling her to the point that she strained to comprehend the orders involved in each word. "You love it, baby. You love to have my big stiff cock rammed up your cunt, don't you? Look up here," his hypnotic voice ordered. "Look up here and tell me how much you want to be fucked."
Brenda lifted her eyes, feeling the shame and humiliation of it all, but unable to resist. She wanted to do his bidding. She had never seen a man so physically appealing before. His tawny, well-muscled legs rose to trim hips supporting a thick chest out of which bulged muscular arms that were capable, she had heard, of delivering a judo chop strong enough to break six bricks at a time. But her eyes weren't ordered to admire his body. "Look at my cock," he ordered. And when she did, she realized his fearfully gigantic penis was even more magnificent than his body. But it would kill me, she thought with horror. It would rip me in two. Still, the sight of it caused the delicate pink of her inner pussy to swell and turn dark with desire. The massive base of his prick bulged out of his crotch like a third leg, rising out and up into a throbbing pole crowned with a shining purple head. From her position under him, the head of his penis reminded Brenda of an inverted, succulent, candy heart. "You love it," he had told her in his hypnotic voice. As soon as he had spoken, Brenda's mouth began to salivate with desire-she could almost taste its fruit on her tongue. His testicles swung between his legs like two large lemons, the delicious comparison causing Brenda's mouth to water even more. The desire to lick them, to fondle them with her tongue, to suck them into her mouth became almost unbearable. She wanted to tantalize them with her fingertips and to press them against the deep-red nipples of her breasts.
"From this moment on," Charles commanded, "every time you see my cock you won't be satisfied until you have it crammed up to the hilt in your pussy. You love it, baby, and you've got to have it."
Now kneeling on the lobby carpet of the Plaza Hotel, Brenda shook her head in an attempt to erase the image of the past, to wipe out the humiliation of her body to respond to an experiment she had regretfully agreed to seven years before on the only blind date she had had then or at any time since then. But it was impossible. Either from the suggestion given to her while under the influence of the hypnotic state she had allowed herself to be trapped into without realizing the terrible consequences, or from the memory of the first time she had ever made love, Brenda realized she was hornier than she had ever been before. Oh, dear God! she thought. I want him to fuck me! She could hardly stand the satiny texture of her panties caressing the rhythmic pulsing of her enflamed vagina. No! No, no, no! Don't let this happen to me! she pleaded with herself.
Mercifully the bellhop had collected all of her spilled items except the key ring which Charles bent over and picked up himself. He didn't offer to help her to her feet nor did he hold out the key ring to her. He stood chuckling, her keys held in one of his clenched fists as the bellhop assisted her to her feet.
Brenda brushed at her skirt, feeling the eyes of the entire lobby on her and wishing she could inconspicuously crawl away. She tried to walk around Charles and flee into the refuge of the open elevator, hoping against hope that he didn't recognize her as the young college freshman he had tricked into his bed seven years before, but as she went past him, he reached out and gripped her upper arm between steel-like fingers.
"Not so fast, Brenda," he said, completely at ease and in charge of the situation. He lowered his voice to a confidential whisper.
But despite its overt friendliness, Brenda detected a trace of coldness-a hint that he wasn't a person to be taken lightly. And the fact that he had not only recognized her face but that he also remembered her name surprised her.
"If you'd get that pretty little quivering chin of yours off your big tits," he teased, "you might realize that we've met before."
She looked up and, as before, she became mesmerized by his eyes that reminded her of Paul Newman and by the manly ruggedness of his face.
"I remember you," she hissed, trying uselessly to pull her arm free without attracting any more attention than they were already receiving from other people in the lobby. "Now let me go!"
"Let you go!" he laughed, this time allowing his voice to carry as far as the bellhop. "I haven't seen you in years and all you can say is let me go!" He became confidential again. "And after the good time we had together." He held her away from him in order to fully appreciate the voluptuous package she had turned into since the last time he had seen her. "Mmmm, you were good before but you look even riper now." He pulled her closer to him, gripping her arm even tighter and turning her so that the back of his right hand rested against the side of her left breast. "We'll have dinner together," he stated.
Brenda tried to protest, saying, "I'm engaged now. It wouldn't be right." But he only laughed and hustled her into the elevator where he handed the bellhop a five-dollar bill and told him to see that she had everything she needed. Then he was gone, marching away from her at a brisk pace toward the main entrance. She watched the back of him until the elevator doors closed, cutting him from her vision and leaving her alone with the bellhop.
"Mr. Stern is some guy," the bellhop said, admiringly.
Brenda wanted to respond to him, to question him further about Charles, but it took every single ounce of her control to prevent the bellhop from noticing the frustrated sexual condition she was in. It's ridiculous, she thought. Calm down! Get hold of yourself. It will go away. He can't have a spell over you that would last that long. Brenda pressed her purse against her breasts and vowed that whatever she did, she wouldn't give in to the fantasies of sexual abandonment that played like a movie in her mind. But somehow, somehow she had to find a way to release the burning tension that grew ever more demandingly inside of her. She heard over and over in her mind the words he had spoken so long before, "You love it, baby. You've got to have it."
by the time the bellhop unlocked the door to her room and she followed him inside, she was perspiring freely despite the hotel's air conditioning. Her clothes stuck to her lewdly and the only thing she could think of was getting them off and wash away the effect Charles had on her, by standing under a cold shower. Impatiently she waited for the bellhop to go through the routine of placing her suitcases on a luggage stand, adjusting the blinds and air conditioner and asking if there was anything else he could do for her.
When he was finally gone, Brenda closed and locked the door behind him, grateful to be alone at last. She turned and leaned against the door, her breath coming in deep, burning gasps. She tore at the buttons on her blouse, pulling it away from her throat. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes as her heart pumped blood, on fire with desire, through her veins.
What would her fiance do if he knew another man could make her body ache with lustful desire simply by standing in front of her? Resolutely she straightened her shoulders and walked into the bathroom. A cold shower would make her all right again. She would take a hundred if she had to, but she would not allow herself to be controlled by Charles Stern.
Eagerly now, she began removing her clothes, telling herself if she hurried she would be able to get down to the Crest Room by seven o'clock, in time for the first program on the Convention's three-day schedule. She dropped her skirt and blouse on the marble vanity. As she reached behind her to unhook her bra, she saw her reflection in the floor-length mirror dominating one end of the room. I look like an animal, she thought. An animal in heat. She slid her bra straps from her shoulders and watched the cruel image of her own body deceiving her.
Slowly she let her bra drop to the floor. Her heavy breasts, glistening with perspiration, stood out from her body like rich melons tipped with succulent pink nipples. They begged for attention. Faster now, Brenda rolled her white bikini panties down over her bare shapely legs. With her feet slightly spread, Brenda drew her fingertips up from the center of her inner thighs. A gasp escaped her throat as her fingers rose higher and higher until they touched the dark heavy curls covering her pussy cleft. As the index finger of her right hand drew between her cuntal lips, Brenda's body convulsed in a spasm of sensual bliss, her hips ground forward against her fingertip, her head rolled back. She bit into her lower lip and concentrated on the urgent message of her body as her index finger gently caressed her already-alert clitoris.
Her body began to rock back and forth in front of the mirror as though on its own. She groaned. Oh, my God! I want this. I need it. Her finger began working faster, dancing on the glistening pink node of her erect clitoris. Yet a voice inside her cried out for control, but the thought of Charles Stern standing nude above her severed the remaining threads of her resistance.
"I WANT IT! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" she cried out, her eyes closed to the shameful reflection she saw in the mirror, her mind on the image of Charles' massive penis buried within her wanton cunt. Brenda spread the quivering lips of her pussy with the palms of her hands and, stretching them cruelly, ground her hips sensuously toward the mirror. Her teeth released her lower lip and her tongue came out and moistened her lips with its tip. "Oooohhhh ... ooooohhhh!" she panted. She ran her fingertips over the delicate pink of her inner vagina, coating her clitoris with the fragrant free-flowing juices from her pussy. Her hips ground rhythmically toward the mirror, her arms pressing her voluptuous breasts together to form a deep cleft, down which drops of perspiration trickled.
As the promise of a volcanic orgasm bubbled up from her center, burning hotter and hotter within, Brenda increased the speed of her fingers stabbing cock-like in and out of her cunt. Her breath hissed through pursed lips as the sensuous fire encompassed her entire body. She gulped great heaving gasps of air, her breasts rose and fell. "I'm almost there!" she screamed as she opened her love-starved eyes, defiantly welcoming the churning image of her frantic contortions.
And then like a cosmic explosion, Brenda convulsed into a God-sent orgasm of staggering intensity. Her knees buckled and she sank to the cold tile of the bathroom floor as wave after wave of orgasmic release tore through her body. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ... Aaaaaa!" Her body crumpled backward, her legs tucked painfully under her, her knees spread, lewdly reflecting her greedy pussy smeared with the glistening delight of her love juices.
As her climax subsided, Brenda lay spent on the floor, too exhausted even to straighten her legs under her. Her fingers lingered in the moist curls covering her pussy. Her breathing slowed as a last grateful sigh escaped her throat.
It was a long time before Brenda found the strength to roll over and stagger to her feet. Her legs felt rubbery and her head swam dizzily. She clutched the towel rack near the tub for support and stood giddily waiting for her head to clear. She walked out of the bathroom and checked the time by her wrist watch lying on the dresser. She was already late for the opening program, but it had been worth it.
While the relief she had experienced had somewhat relieved her tension, it hadn't been the complete experience she needed. What she needed, she realized, was a huge cock rammed to the hilt in her pussy. But at least now she would have the control to wait until she returned home to her fiance. And then Ross would make everything right for her.
Decisively, now she hurried back into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. As she stood under it, she felt the stinging spray wash away the heat and frustration of her long car trip from Ridgecrest and the remains of her partially depleted passion that matted the fleecy curls of her love nest. When she stepped out of the shower, she toweled herself vigorously until her creamy skin glowed pinkly. She dressed hurriedly, gathered up her purse and stepped into the lobby.
As she pushed the button for the elevator that would take her down to the Real Estate Convention, she realized the next three days wouldn't be spent in the carefree way she had originally anticipated. If she wanted to keep herself pure for Ross, she would somehow have to avoid any further contact with Charles Stern.