Chapter 4
"At any rate, we have something to be thankful for." Barbara put down the magazine she was reading and glanced at her sister reflectively. "Summer vacation saved us. Now we don't have to be pointed at by half the school for going bareback out at the lake."
"We'll have to face it after Labor Day," Betty pointed out reasonably. "Unless we just drop out."
Barbara considered. "No, we can't do that. It would break Mother up. That gives us three months to think of something. That louse Harry! Somebody ought to kill him."
"Tommy offered to but you wouldn't let him," Betty reminded her. "You're not by any chance in love with him, are you?"
"Who? Harry? Girl, you've flipped. All I care about is getting even with him."
"How exactly, will you do that?"
"I'll show you how." There was purpose in the way Barbara got up and went over to the telephone.
Harry had been driving for a good half hour, taking the lake road out of town and answering the twins' questions with noncommittal grunts. "You'll see," was all he would say. "And when you do, you'll have a ball."
There was no sign in the driveway when he slowed down and turned off the highway. Gravel crunched under the tires and he stopped the car before a dark house which showed a solitary light in an upstairs window. The gables looming against the night sky gave it the appearance of a farmhouse.
He killed the motor and got out and spoke for the first time in several miles. "Wait here. I'll be back."
The door opened, seemingly Of itself, when he had climbed the short stone steps, and closed noiselessly behind him. Somewhere, an owl hooted and a few cars went by, their headlights picking out the driveway trees. The night seemed even darker when they had passed.
"I'm getting paranoid," Betty declared, after he had been gone for ten minutes. "Do you suppose he's cooking up something like last time?"
"Could be." Barbara sounded a bit apprehensive herself. She lit another cigarette and the snap of the lighter when she closed it made her sister jump. She was about to say something more when the door opened again and Harry stood at the top of the steps, beckoning to them.
When they hesitated, he hurried over to the car and opened the door on Betty's side. "Look," he snapped, keeping his voice down, "I'm trying to show you a good time to make up for the lake thing. It's costing plenty, so pile out."
The twins followed him into a dim hallway with nothing in it except a telephone on one wall. Light filtered down a stairway at the far end.
"Watch your step and don't talk," he cautioned. You can't see them but there are people all around. This way."
The stairs were so thickly carpeted that their feet made no sound as they went up. Barbara stumbled once and he looked over his shoulder warningly.
Another hallway, barely illuminated by a dim ceiling light, led off from the stairhead. They were halfway along it when Harry held a hand up and stopped to take a key out of his pocket. He opened a door which looked like a wall panel and motioned to them. "Don't forget," he whispered. "No noise or you'll spoil everything."
Inside the dark room, he found a switch and turned on a tall lamp standing at one end of a long couch. The lamp and the couch and some pictures on the walls were the only furnishings and again the deep-piled rug on the floor deadened their footsteps.
The first thing that struck the girls was the odd position of the couch. It had been turned around to face the wall which should have been behind it. Betty was about to remark on it when she remembered that they must not talk.
The three of them made their way between the backward-facing couch and the wall and sat down quietly. Betty found herself staring at a faded print of Degas' Dancing Girls hanging at eye level a few inches in front of her. There were two more pictures of the same size, similarly positioned, in front of Barbara and Harry.
He put a finger to his lips and pushed one side of his picture with his other hand, motioning to them to do-likewise. Suddenly, there were no pictures to look at. Instead, they were peering into what seemed to be backless mirrors, affording a clear view of another room. The change was so abrupt that Betty felt as though she was falling through the wall. She blinked in surprise. Then she saw the couple on the bed. The man was black and the girl white. She had that fair skin which often accompanies dark red hair. The room was brightly lighted and the bed close enough to their peepholes to afford a clear view of the action.
When both girls started back, as though thinking they were intruding, Harry shook his head at them. "The glass is one-way. They can't see you," he whispered reassuringly.
Recovering a little from the shock of Spying on two strange people engaged in sexual intercourse, Betty glanced at Barbara, then glued her eyes to the covered opening. The black man was kneeling behind the girl's white buttocks, taking her horse fashion. From the position of their crotches, he had to be fucking her in the pussy with his immense prick. His erection was so big that he apparently could not insert it fully. His swinging balls were a good two inches from making contact with the parted cheeks in front of them. Barbara's cunt twitched as she watched, because she liked big cocks. They hurt wonderfully.
The shaft of the man's erection was all the more evident because of the whiteness framing it. It shone in the light every time he drew back for a new thrust. His black fingers holding the white tits turned Betty on for some reason of which she was unaware. It looked so much more like fucking, so much more physical than when the partners to the act were of the same color. After another glance to see if the others were looking, she sneaked a hand up her brief skirt and found her clitoris and began to play with it.
Barbara guessed that the man and the girl must have begun to screw just before they opened their panels. He was fucking her slowly, in no hurry yet, pulling back on her tits each time he entered her, his shiny black prick moving in and out of her raised crotch in an easy rhythm. She had crossed her arms under a pillow in which she had buried her face and one of her hands was back between her thighs, feeling for his testicles and failing to reach them. They appeared to be nearly the same age, in their early twenties. If anything, the girl was younger by a year or two.
It was like watching television with the sound off. The man's lips moved every time he slid his prick back in, as though he was reciting something. The girl flinched away from the driving horn several times, as though it was hurting her. But the watchers could hear nothing and it was evident that the wall was soundproof.
The action remained the same for a few more minutes, with the man screwing leisurely and the girl beginning to move her crotch back and forth in time with his stroking. Of the two, she seemed to be more excited and both girls could imagine her moaning and perhaps biting her lips or the pillow as her enjoyment grew. Barbara could not take her eyes off that big wet cock. It was thicker and longer even than Hank's and so close that she could feel it opening up her own pussy. Now she could appreciate why Harry liked to watch people fuck. Maybe his imagination was as good as her own and he got his kicks the way she was doing without having to go through the motions. Jacking off while he looked on had to make it all the more real.
She turned her head quickly to see if he was doing anything like that now and found him sitting quietly, even looking bored, as though he had seen this sort of thing before. In spite of her resentment she had to acknowledge that he was a real swinger. That much, anyway, was due him. She was glad that he had brought them here. It made her a little bit less mad at him for the happening at the lake. There was even fun in that, somewhere. The captain had looked so envious that he could hardly lead the cheering. Maybe, if the bastard behaved himself from now on, she would be able to forgive him. She forgot him then because she did not want to miss any more of that wonderful prick.
Betty snatched her finger away from her pussy just in time to avoid coming. She wanted to more than anything, but the presence of the others hampered her. She did not mind screwing in front of them, but masturbating was a much more private affair. She had no way of knowing that it was the subconscious shame involved in the act that kept her from doing it in public and would not hate cared anyway.
Her astonishment at seeing so enormous a penis attached to a man became submerged in her interest in the girl. Why a black man, she wondered. Did blacks "do it" better than whites? Not being color conscious herself, she wondered if the girl had submitted to him because of his size. Perhaps he had a different technique, although to her, in her inexperience, fucking was fucking. Then she remembered that Tommy had aroused her even more than Sam, although both had been wonderful. Perhaps it had something to do with personality, rather than the physical side. Maybe that was why she had wanted some men just by looking at them or listening to them talk, while others left her cold. She gave it up and hoped that they would both come soon so that she could share their enjoyment. As soon as she dared to she put her hand back under her skirt and resumed playing with herself.
The action picked up, becoming faster and harder. The man released the girl's tits and grabbed her thighs and held her that way, pressed against his own and moved his knees closer, obviously trying for deeper penetration. But his bunched balls still swung free behind her buttocks and he appeared unable to insert the last couple of inches.
"I could take him all." Barbara realized that she was muttering under her breath. "But he'd strangle me if I tried to eat him." Even without touching herself, like she knew Betty was doing, she almost had an orgasm. She looked away long enough to glance down at Harry's crotch. His hands were still but she could see his erection bulging his slacks.
Both girls breathed harder as they watched the couple on the bed get ready to come. Perhaps they had screwed before, because they seemed to sense each other's degree of arousal and timed themselves accordingly. The girl began to work her pussy faster and faster over the man's tense horn. Even in her urgency she must have realized that he was not quite ready, because she slowed down and barely moved, letting him screw her faster and faster and making only a slight effort to respond until he let her thighs go and leaned over her to catch her by the shoulders. Betty bit her lip, thinking of a black torn screwing a white cat.
The bed commenced to shake visibly as the man shortened his strokes. He moved his knees again, as though seeking a better purchase. The headboard was banging against the wall behind it when he opened his mouth and shouted something. He must have come in the same second. The girl raised her head and reached back with a hand to find his thigh, the only part of him she could reach. She held him like that and jerked her hips furiously. They came together and Betty, unable to control herself any longer, came with them. Barbara, all her attention fo-cussed on the man's plowing prick, saw it disappear at last, while the black testicles slammed against the white buttocks in final triumph.
The man held it into the girl's pussy for all of a minute after they reached orgasm, giving her his squirting semen to the last pumping drop. Then his sweaty chest rose in a long sigh and he pulled out slowly, as though reluctant to finish. God, Barbara thought, what I wouldn't give to have him in me.
The man got off the bed and reached for his trousers hanging on the back of the single chair. The girl swung her legs down and went over to him, to drop on her knees on the rug and take his still-hard penis in her hand. She stripped a bead of semen out of the eye and licked it off greedily. Barbara held her breath, waiting to see a blow job to end all others but he pushed the girl away impatiently and went on dressing himself. Obviously disappointed, she got up and went into the small bathroom. When she came out with her clothes on, she sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and waited until he was ready. Then she opened the door and they went out hand in hand.
"How did you like them apples?" Harry whispered, breaking the silence for the first time in a long half hour. "I wish he'd let her eat him. She'd have ended up with a busted jaw." He laughed silently and stood up to move his hard penis over against the other leg.
The girls got up when he did, thinking that it was time to leave but he motioned them to sit down again. "There's more," he mouthed at them. "You haven't seen anything yet."
He stooped over to look through his spy hole and see if anyone else had come into the vacated room. A maid came through the open doorway and spread fresh sheets on the bed and fluffed the pillows and carried new towels into the bathroom. When she left and no one else showed up, he went over to another wall with pictures on it and slid them aside to check for some more action. Barbara and Betty looked at him hopefully but he shook his head and came back. After glancing at his watch, he plumped down on the couch and looked through the one-way glass. At once, he raised a hand and signaled them to copy him.
There was another couple in the bedroom, an older man, probably in his late fifties and a much younger girl. Barbara gasped and Betty shot a look of disbelief at her sister. They had both recognized the girl. She was in their biology class at school. The man owned a hardware store and had a wife and six kids.
Betty started to say something but Harry silenced her with another wave of his hand and she stared through the glass, unable to believe her eyes. The old son-of-a-bitch, she thought. He always helped to take up the collection on Sundays and his wife played the organ. The girl's father would kill them both if he ever found out. He was a sergeant on the city police force.
The old boy wasted no time. He had his shirt and tie off when they first noticed him and he went for his pants in such a hurry that the zipper hung and the girl had to help him get it open. She waited, without removing any of her own clothing except her panties, while he finished undressing. Then she sat down in the chair and pulled her skirt up.
As though acting on cue, the man in his paunchy nakedness knelt down between her parted knees and began to eat her young cunt. He spread the lips of it with avid fingers and went to work on the exposed clitoris. Presently he reached down and pulled her sandal off and held it in his hand, hugging it to him as though afraid someone might steal it.
"Shoe fetishist," Harry whispered. "Watch what he does with it."
Neither girl knew what he meant but it sounded interesting. The fact that they knew both principals made it more so. Barely breathing, they took in every detail of the action. Betty's face was pressed to the glass so closely that she lost several seconds while she polished it with a tissue. After that, she held her head back so that her breath would not cloud her view and cause her to miss anything. She wanted to be able to describe the complete happening when she discussed it with Barbara later.
The girl was smiling and leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed. At first, she sat perfectly still, not moving except to spread her knees wider at the old man's urging. Slowly, under the stimulus of his greedy tongue, she began to stir her buttocks until she was going through the motions of fucking. Presently, she sat up and took his balding head between her palms pressing his face into her crotch so hard that Barbara wondered why he did not smother.
To be a good pussy eater, someone once told her, a man should be able to breathe through his ears. Maybe the old bastard had learned how. Then she saw that he had turned his face sideways and was lapping away through a corner of his mouth. He must have a tongue like an ant eater, she told herself. The thought of that made her pussy throb pleasantly. She had never had a man's tongue in her. Betty had done her best but she was new at it. Her tongue was too lady-like. The swinging set at school ruled that anything under six inches was not worth fooling with; unless it had a wart on it. When you found a warty tongue, you married it.
In her eagerness to see everything, Betty was breathing on her glass and it was fogging. She wiped it with impatient fingers and that made it worse. She had to hunt in her purse for another tissue and so missed part of the subsequent action. When she could see again, the man, still holding onto the sandal, was hugging the girl's bare thighs. She was playing with her tits through her thin blouse and muttering with her eyes closed again, as if she was praying. For a second, Betty thought that she had already come. Then she saw her straighten up in the chair and feel for her partner's ears. She clutched them like two handles and held his head steady and began to screw his tongue.
If Harry had made like that when she was sucking his cock, Barbara reflected, she could have come herself in half the time. He had done a job of fucking her mouth just before he shot off but his technique could not compare with the show that the girl was putting on. She raised up so that her back was perfectly straight. In that position, the lips of her cunt were closer to the old man's mouth. They must have done a lot of rehearsing, Barbara imagined. Their routine was too perfect for amateurs. He stopped licking her clitoris and hardened his long tongue as soon as he felt her fingers feeling for his ears. Both girls could see the pink stiffness of it, like a standing prick. It looked so hard that it might have had a bone in it. Now it was deep inside her pussy. The teasing foreplay was over. She was ready for orgasm.
Surprisingly, the climax was not as vigorous as the buildup had predicted. After banging her animated crotch against his chin for perhaps ten seconds and practically tearing his ears off, she opened her mouth in a palpable moan and a shudder ran through her as she found orgasm at last. As soon as she stopped trembling, the man knelt back on his heels, releasing her thighs to look at the sandal in his hand. Without touching his half-erect penis, keeping his eyes on the footgear and mumbling to himself, he suddenly came. The semen arched in quick spurts between the girl's feet and made a little pool on the rug under the chair. As though its function was ended, he calmly replaced the sandal before getting up and going into the bathroom to clean up.
There was an interval after the mismatched couple left the bedroom. Betty was so excited that she would have broken Harry's ban on talking if someone had not knocked gently on the door. He got up and crossed the room and they could hear him saying something while he held the door knob in a hand. Then he came back and sat down and checked his peephole.
"Who was that?" Barbara whispered.
"The management." He kept his voice down so that she could barely hear him. "They wanted to know if we'd had enough or if we, wanted to stay for the main bout."
"Oh, don't let's go yet," Betty interrupted, then stopped as he scowled at her.
"For Christ's sake, take it easy. You'll get another chance to cream in your jeans." To Barbara, he explained that there were no girls in the house, like in a brothel. "This is a hot pillow joint. Couples come here and have their fun and pay and leave. There are plenty around but this one happens to be the only place that's set up for watching. They just got a reservation for four, two guys and a couple of broads. Let's see what gives."
The foursome showed up almost at once. One of the girls appeared to be a little high. She went straight to the remade bed and lay down. When one of the fellows tried to undress her, she slapped at him and rolled over to the far side. Then, apparently changing her mind or perhaps wanting to do it herself, she got up quickly and stripped to her skin. The other girl followed her example as the guys hurried out of their clothes. One of them produced a bottle and hunted for glasses in the bathroom. Finding only two, he poured a straight drink for the girls, then took a swig from the bottle and handed it to his friend. None of them looked to be over twenty.
Betty glanced at Barbara and shrugged. She did not know any of them and neither did her sister. There was nothing remarkable about these newcomers except that they were walking about as naked as jaybirds, knocking back straight whisky as though it was going out of style. Neither of the girls had anything sensational in the way of tits. In fact, they were little more than bee stings, Betty decided, feeling her own with warrantable pride. Barbara was disappointed because both men seemed under-pricked. And neither had a hard-on, as might have been expected with all that young pussy around. She wondered fleetingly if they were queer.
The bottle was half empty before anyone made a pass. Then one of the men went over to the other and kissed him on the lips, then knelt down in front of him and started to suck his prick. The girls did not even look at them. They put their arms around each other and walked over to the bed and stretched out on it.
"Homos," Harry murmured. "But they do it the other way, too, so the man said."
Barbara took time to analyze her feeling about queers. She had nothing against them personally, in the same way that she had no hang-ups about color. Sex, she had decided, should be interpreted according to the individual. To her way of thinking, after reading history, there had been far too much fuss about this most elementary urge, which after all was as natural as breathing. The bigotry and hypocrisy attendant on sexual intercourse down the centuries smacked to her not only an insult to the entire human race but to her personally. She did not believe that, because she sucked pricks and screwed like a mink, she was anything less than she should have been. Mouths should be used for other purposes than taking in food, in the same way that a cunt was not there only to pee through.
But there was something about a man eating another man that irked her. She had not made up her mind yet whether this was repulsion or merely jealousy. In all fairness, because she thought cock sucking was strictly a female prerogative, it might be the last; all the more possible because she felt no resentment at a woman tonguing another.
A detail of the gobbling scene before her put a quick stop to her rationalizing. She drew a quick breath as she noticed the standing man's penis. The last time she had inspected it, it had looked like a flabby wiener with an end squeezed out. Now, as the kneeling guy took it out of his mouth to kiss it, it was standing up, hard and straight, every bit as big as Hank's. The head, shiny with fresh saliva, was more oval than pointed and the rigid shaft behind it was thicker than her three fingers. She was almost drooling. What a beauty, for sucking or fucking or a lot of each. She closed her eyes for a minute, imagining what that egg-shaped head could do to her clitoris and how it would feel straining into her throat while he came. When she opened them, both men were kneeling on the rug. The owner of the erstwhile wiener was screwing his partner enthusiastically in the rectum. She had no quarrel with that, male or female, an ass was an ass. However, she had one reservation. She thought it was a sinful waste of cock.
Betty had also been watching the men. Because she knew how it felt to have a hard prick shoved into her that way, she felt sorry for the guy in front until she saw his face. Then she changed her mind quickly. The guy was flying, up on cloud something-or-other, smirking and blinking his eyes every time the stiff horn drove in, backing up when it retreated as though afraid of losing it. She half expected to see him lick his lips. As though he could read her mind, his tongue lapped out and left his mouth red and shiny. He reached back with both hands and pulled the cheeks of his behind further apart, to give his partner fuller entry. Then his prick began to rise.
like the other, as Barbara had noticed when the men got undressed, his penis when soft was a puny thing, the head covered by a long foreskin and not much thicker than her middle finger. Now the head was emerging, the foreskin rolling back behind it to make a ruff, exposing the growing eye. The shaft swelled and became hard as Betty watched, so quickly that in moments it was standing up against his belly, an inch or two below his navel. She heard Barbara mutter something and knew that she could not believe it, either. Even Harry, until now mostly indifferent once he had seen what was going on, was staring intently and shaking his head.
The owner of the surprising prick backed up even more. He was slobbering and moving his mouth idiotically when he brought one hand forward and began to jack off. He held his penis back against the tightening testicles so that the peeled foreskin went over the head when he rubbed forward, then retreated fully on the return stroke. Betty risked clouding her glass again. Her face was almost touching it because she wanted to see the come squirt out of that big eye. Her clitoris quivered and she put her hand under her skirt again and teased it with her finger. , Now that she had admired the man's erection and was feeling frustrated because she could not do anything about it, Barbara took time to look over at the bed. The two girls were lying facing each other, head to crotch, doing a vigorous sixty-nine. The one who had preferred to undress herself seemed to be the active one, although there was nothing masculine about her to suggest a dyke. Nor was the other one overly submissive. They lay with their arms around each other, completely absorbed in what they were doing, taking no more notice of the screwing men than if they had not been there. Barbara hoped that Betty was watching them, so that she could get a few pointers. The way she was feeling, her sister could eat her any time and it would be much better when she knew how. It would be handy to have an expert cunt lapper in the family. Sex would then be as easy as going into the kitchen and making a cup of coffee.
The two on the rug timed their orgasm to a mutual quickening of the action. The one doing the buggering reached up under the other's hairless chest and found his raised nipples, as though he were a woman with tits to hold. He played with them, pinching and tugging while he began to screw harder. The other raised his head and moved his lips and throat as though he was drinking. Betty, watching avidly, was sorry about the soundproofing. She was sure that he was saying something and she wanted to hear what it was.
Their coming betrayed mutual familiarity with the act of cornholing. The active one must have jetted the first drop of semen into the other's rectum, judging by the convulsive twitch and the sudden furious way he began to fuck his hand. He came in the next second, holding his penis almost straight up, so that Betty could see the semen pumping as his frantic fingers fiddled him off. Now there was more of the stuff on the rug than when the old man shot his load. The maid would have another cleaning job.
The man behind humped into his partner in a final thrust. Then he uncoupled unhurriedly and walked into the bathroom. The other stayed there on his knees for a minute, jerking his cock and squeezing the last of the semen out of it. Then he got up and sat in the chair and began to giggle, stroking his collapsing horn while the tears rolled down his cheeks.
It was a funny way to end a fuck, Betty thought. She had not had much experience. This was the first time she had seen gay boys playing, but she always felt relaxed and happy after she had been screwed. So why was the guy crying? It was a full minute before she realized that he was reacting to pent up emotion and that his tears represented pleasure. Then she remembered that she was sitting there with her hand up her skirt. Barbara smiled at her and Harry turned his head to hide a grin. She straightened up primly, taking her hand away ana" fixing her attention on the female members of the cast. To hell with Harry, anyway. He'd jacked off right in front of her. And Barbara was no saint.
Apparently the girls had done their thing while she was busy looking at the men. One had rolled over onto her face and the other was helping herself to a slug out of the bottle. She threw her head back and gargled the whisky before swallowing it.
Betty waited for her to start putting her clothes on but she set the bottle down and walked back to the bed, dabbing at some of the liquor which had trickled between her breasts. She laid a hand on the other girl's shoulder and rolled her onto her back just as the first guy came out of the bathroom. The second man had stopped giggling and was sitting with his head against the wall, apparently asleep. When his late partner shook him, he opened his eyes wide, looking as though he had been dreaming. Both girls got off the bed and came over and the four of them evidently had an argument. Again, Betty wished that someone would turn the sound on. From the way the women walked around the guy in the chair, throwing their hands up and pointing to him as they harangued the other one, the conversation must have been interesting.
The vigorous pantomime ended as quickly as it had begun. The girls returned to the bed and the two men followed them. Apparently, they had decided during the huddle what they were going to do. They got into position without talking, the ex-giggler waiting until the more active girl had stretched out on her back. When she had adjusted the pillow to her liking, he got onto his knees and straddled her chest so that all she had to do to suck his cock was to hold it and put it in her mouth. He reached behind him and found her legs and pulled her knees up until they were touching his buttocks. The other girl picked up the action, lying on her belly with her tongue in easy reach of the first one's pussy. She put an arm forward and brought the free pillow back and shoved it under her hips so that she was stretched over it with her buttocks elevated. Then the second man put a knee on either side of her thighs and buried his new erection in her cunt.
Harry put a hand alongside his mouth and whispered, a bit hoarsely, "That's what they call a Whorehouse Sandwich; a little bit of everything."
Of the two girls, Barbara could not make up her mind which she would like to have been. The one on her back was enjoying a double serving, sucking and being sucked at the same time, while the one lying on her stomach was eating pussy while her own was being screwed. In addition to the ingenuity of the arrangement, she was surprised at the switch in sexual preference. Then, after sorting them out, she decided that the only one really out of character was the guy fucking the girl, after fucking his friend in the ass. That made him bisexual, able to enjoy a man or a woman with equal facility. The girl sucking the other guy off might have edged into that category, because she had started off by going down on her partner. The man who was being eaten was true to type; a gay boy who, having taken rt in the back way, was enjoying a variation in front. The last one, the girl being horse fucked, was probably a normal kid who enjoyed a spot of tongue work on the side.
These distinctions of her sister were lost on
Betty. All that interested her was the action. Motivation was not in her book. She marveled again at the size of the erection in the girl's mouth, wondering how anyone could gobble a penis that big without throwing up. Barbara could have given her a few points on that but she was busy taking in the scene. And she was copying Betty by indulging in a little clitoris tickling while she watched. That seemed to make it legal and Betty started to play with herself again, hoping she could wait to come with the performers on the other side of the glass.
Then she saw Harry unzip his pants and take his cock out and begin to masturbate. That banished the last of her scruples and she pulled her skirt up around her hips and pushed her finger farther up and rode it in time with the end man's thrusting. Barbara joined her and the three of them sat there like kids on a log, fucking themselves as though unable to stop.
The sudden bright light frightened Betty enough to make Tier take her hand away and pull her skirt down quickly. Then it was gone and the stand lamp was again the only illumination. She looked back to find Harry and ask him what it was but he was not there anymore. When her eyes focused, she saw him standing by the door. He was motioning to them to join him. "Show's over," he grunted. "Let's go."
"What was that light?" Barbara asked him as they filed out into the hall.
In place of answering, he led the way downstairs, then told them to go on out to the car and wait. He joined them in a few minutes and they drove off. In town, he dropped them near their house. He was about to go on when he seemed to remember something and handed Barbara an envelope. "With the compliments of the management," he grinned. "Don't open it until you get home."
"Oh", no! Look!" Barbara was holding a shiny photograph, obviously made by a self-printing camera. Harry had turned his head but the twins' faces were clear. So was what they were doing.