Chapter 5

In the women's section of the employees' lounge, Buddy and Nancy shared a towel. Drying his face, he looked over the towel at her. She was rubbing the other end across her chin, smiling at him. Her eyes twinkled in the near-darkness.

She had called herself fifteen and now she seemed it, full of giggles and roguish lifts of her eyebrows, smiles popping like bubbles, coltish tosses of her head.

Something had happened out at the pool. This could not be the austere woman who managed the motel, who had glared so sternly at him when he entered.

He drew the towel to him. She held on, smiling arid turning her head as she neared his lips. Her eyes closed. Her tongue and lips seemed to flutter against his. Her mouth was sweet and the nibbling of her lips a dainty invitation to his tongue. He thrust it in, felt hers coil and lash about it.

His hands moved to her shoulders. She palmed his chest. Their kiss lost traction. His lips slipped from her mouth to her cheek. Nancy's wet dress contacted his hot flesh. Her right breast still hung out of the neckline, a plump orb melting into him except for the hard, boring nipple.

He savored the feel of that and the warm smell of her. Her perfume was all but washed away, the remnants smothered by the musky female odor rising from her crotch.

Buddy loved this would-be teenager. The thought that Sharon meant to take her job hurt him. He knew that Sharon had put the two of them together for a purpose. Well, he wouldn't let her harm Nancy.

She whispered, "This dress feels chill."

He unzipped the back. She turned coyly from him to skin out of the wet garment. He studied the lovely curve of her back, her narrow waist, then the big white buttocks stretching her panties.

Rid of the dress, she switched back to him, hiding her breasts against his chest.

She whispered, "Buddy, I'm so happy!"

He closed his arms protectively about her. He felt overcome by tenderness. Oh, he wanted to screw her, all right. His cock burned as it stretched out and jabbed her belly. But that seemed less important than rubbing his cheek on hers, kissing her ear, and now smiling into her eyes.

He said, "I've never had a girl, I mean really a girl of my own, like she's mine because she wants to be."

"I want to be your girl, Buddy."

He kissed her. She sucked softly at his tonguetip. Then she said, "I hated having to grow up. My first boy -- Wally was his name -- he scared me. At fifteen, I wasn't ready. Still, I got mated eventually. Then my husband said I should be more mature, serious and all that. So I am. I manage the motel as well as a man could, Bud says. But that isn't me. I'm right here. Buddy's girl."

He nodded in agreement. With him she could be what she wanted. He peered down at her breasts, two large white mounds against his chest. He slipped his hands in between them, raising the luscious tits, revealing the huge dark disks and the jutting nipples.

She said, "People always thought I was older because of my big breasts. Do you like them, Buddy?"

"They're beautiful." He sank his fingers into them, kneading and thumbing the robust nipples. He grinned. Yes, they were his to play with. Because Nancy was his girl. He asked, "Can I suck them?"

He saw moisture in her dark, luminous eyes. Her throat worked, as though she was choking up. Then she nodded.

He bent down to them but she whispered, "Sit on that chair. I'll bend over you so they hang out."

He sat on the straight chair as she indicated. Nancy cupped her hands on his shoulders and went down. He looked up at a swollen aureole bigger than his mouth, at the long, thick nipple at its center, at the snowy mound extending to the limits of his vision. He licked the nipple. Nancy made a cooing noise. Her body swayed and the breast swung to one side. He followed it, licking and nibbling the nipple. It swung again. He seized it in his hands now and held it still, suckering his mouth onto it, gulping in meaty fit.

Nancy groaned. "Oh, Buddy, honey! Suck like that and tongue the nipple!"

He washed his tongue about the nipple deep in his mouth while wolfing in more tit.

She complained, "You'll stretch it, Buddy."

He sucked more gently, now eyeing the other breast. Her one hand left his shoulder and went to the other tit. Her fingers forked the nipple and began a milking movement, curling about it and pulling off while thumbing the tip.

Gasping for air, he disgorged his mouthful but quickly turned to the other, replacing her hand and sucking the point to a rigid stem.

That was when he felt fingertips feather across his cockhead. He still wore the baffling suit, pulled to the side. His prick stood straight up. It throbbed as a fingernail teased his glans. Then the touch became a vine spiraling down his length to the root, finding the one ball that hung out of the pouch, closing on it, testing the skin, returning to the upright phallus and then listing it.

He stopped sucking. Her tit fell from his mouth. Nancy groaned and lowered herself further, knees bending, sagging down until she knelt between his feet, her face turned up, mouth open, waiting for his kiss. He kissed her and felt a new urgency in the suction of her mouth, a match for the fist squeezing his cock.

Then she looked at the giant stem sprouting from her hand.

She said, "It's a terribly big penis, Buddy. Somewhat frightening."

"Because you're only fifteen years old," he grinned.

She smiled. She leaned close and kissed the tip of it. Her lips brushed it as she spoke.

"No, I'm not fifteen any more. I'd be shaking with fear. Thank God I'm a grown woman." But then she cocked her head and winked roguishly at him. "But I'll eighteen if I want!"

He laughed.

She extended her tongue and swabbed it about the knob. She turned her attention to his swimsuit, grasping the waistband and pulling them down. Buddy raised his ass and she stripped the apparatus off, stretching it over the length of his cock. Rid of it, she crouched, slipping both hands under his scrotum, holding a ball in each palm. She once again licked his cockhead and then forced her mouth open on it.

Moaning, she went don, sucking.

The swishing of her tongue, the lip-drawing, the feel of his knob in the cool wetness of her working throat, all made Buddy go rigid and jerk his hips, stabbing the mammoth cock deeper into her mouth. She took it too, and he saw her cheeks pull in and mold to the shape of his shank. All this while her fingers toyed with his nuts.

He groaned, saying, "Nancy, your sucking is so slick and oily, you'll make it grow out like a ball bat."

Her head bobbed up and down. Her drying hair tumbled darkly on his loins. One hand left his balls and fisted the stem, squeezing and jerking him off in rhythm with the movement of her head. She aroused him to such a point of sensitivity that even the silkiness of her hair trailing across his belly made him jerk with excitement.

He choked. "Nancy, stop. Save it. I want to fuck you!"

She paused. Slowly she relinquished the swollen organ, still licking it as though it were a candy cane.

Nibbling the tip, she gasped, "I'm so glad -- that you want -- to fuck me. If I were a girl... But I'm not, Buddy. Do you really want to fuck me?"

"Yes!"

She got up and kissed him, then abruptly rose to her feet and moved into the darkness at the end of the room. He saw her bend over, peeling down her panties. Then he heard the bedsprings creak.

He rose and walked toward her, feeling the iron heaviness of his cock wag from side to side. He felt like all prick, a trembling human shape with everything out in front, hot and pulsing, a third leg swaying, his whole body working to propel the yard of swollen lust that the rest of him had been created to bear.

She had made a man of him, he thought. He saw her now, lying on the lower bunk, a graceful white shape forked at the middle. Her legs spread from a dark muff, a sprawl of twat hair as big as a hat. She was smiling and her moist eyes gleamed darkly. As he stood over her she widened the spread of her legs and cocked one up. A pale hand stole down to her crotch and patted it.

"Here, Buddy. My mound will cushion your thighs. And I have space enough inside for even your big cock."

He crawled onto the bed between her legs. As he advanced she widened the spread and drew her knees back. He saw her gash open, a glistening red oval pointed at the ends, crowded by the lush, dark tangle of twat hair. Over her, he butted blindly, poking his cockhead into silky hair. On the third try he buried it in her slippery, steaming hole.

He held back, remembering how difficult it had been to wedge into Sharon's twat.

But Nancy's legs went about his waist, crushing him to her. His cock slid deeper into her oily hole.

"Push it in, Buddy! I have a big cunt! You won't hurt me!"

Her inner musculature played squishily on the knob of his cock. He groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into her sloshy split. Was it big? No. Simply a tube shaped and sized to receive his salami. In now, his loins slipping on the juicy hair of her outer labia, he gave a sigh of relief. It had been easy.

He pressed down to her and nuzzled her cheek.

She arched up, her legs knotting together behind him. Her hips jerked rapidly.

She whispered hoarsely in his ear, "Buddy, my cunt is exploding. I'm coming. Don't you come. Oh please, darling, can I come on your cock? Now?"

He felt the hard milking of her twat, squeezing and kneading his prong. He heard it squishing loudly.

She shrilled, "Just hold still, all the way in me, all that cock inside. Let me come, please let me come!"

"Come, baby," he gasped.

Her head thrashed from side to side. Her rotating hips whacked her up against him hard, and then she shrieked. "There, Buddy! My cunt is going wild!"

The bedsprings crashed once more, then Nancy's body stiffened while her twat gushed and fell open. Buddy's prick was swimming in new juice.

Her cry was a long "Ohhh!" It seemed to gut her, for she fell back, dripping sweat.

Buddy waited while she panted, trying to regain her strength.

Soon she raised and nibbled his ear, whispering, "Oh, what a fat, gushing orgasm, Buddy! Like my whole belly bloated, then broke, punctured by your lovely cock. Do you want to fuck me now, long and rough?"

"But are you ready? I mean, you just came."

"I'm still coming a little. And I won't stop. Give me more, Buddy."

He began to hump at her steaming split. She rose to meet his thrusts, twisting herself when she was full, clenching her inner cavern on it. The whole thing was easier than with Sharon because of her big hole, and he pumped lazily, grunting with joy each time he swished into her sucking twat.

Then his balls slapped hard on her upturned ass and he felt the jolt, the fire in them, and the terrific hardening of his cock.

"I'm going -- to -- come!" he gasped.

She bit his throat, his ear, and her hands clawed at his back. Her clenching thighs became a vise.

She seemed between laughter and tears when she panted, "Fuck me hard, Buddy!"

He moaned on each thrust. He felt her cunt shrink down to Sharon's size and massage his length, a sloppy hole, yet firm, straight, stretching each time he thrust down into it. Then the fire in his balls exploded.

She shrieked, "You're coming, darling! Shoot it into me!"

The bedsprings crashed as he banged away. His cock grew so long and hot that all strength was drained from the rest of his body. He was trembling all over, but his cock drove on and then the juice roared out of it, blasting into her.

He howled out his release. The whole works went, all his insides, splashing into the rolling steaminess of her hole.

Still she clung with arms and legs, with teeth fastened on his chin. She clung, still surging and milking the last drop from him.

At last she sagged down, panting loudly. Buddy slumped in her arms, feeling empty, drained, exhausted.

He seemed to fall asleep in her softening embrace.

Sharon drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter top.

Buddy and Nancy had been gone for an hour. Harve was not around. She dared not leave the room desk, yet she was on pins and needles, dying of curiosity. She had to find out.

The employees' lounge was the likeliest place for them to be. She hurried to it and crept into the central section.

Both doors were closed. She listened at the women's door. She heard faint sounds. Fisting the knob carefully, she turned it and opened the door a crack.

It was dark inside. She heard, "Buddy, your cock is so huge! Oh, honey!"

Sharon almost laughed. It had worked. That was Nancy's voice, and bedsprings were crunching loudly. If Bud were to arrive now and catch Nancy fucking on duty... Yes, that would do it.

But Sharon frowned, thinking of Buddy's luscious, fat, pink cock buried in Nancy's cunt, a cock that today had driven her into an orgasmic frenzy.

She heard Buddy say, "Your cunt is the best I ever got into!"

Sharon gritted her teeth. She was burning with jealousy. She closed the door and turned to the men's section. She entered. Harve was asleep there. She shook his leg.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

She said, "You prick, making me do all the work! Get out there and take the desk while I make a tour."

She hustled him out to the desk. Thinking rapidly now, she snatched a quickie key from a niche and dropped it into her dress pocket. It had been returned only a few minutes ago. Harve would think the unit was still in action.

She returned to the men's section of the lounge. Buddy's clothes were there. He would have to come for them. Leaving the door ajar, she waited.

Soon the facing door opened and Nancy slipped out, dressed, trying to smooth her tousled hair.

She paused and whispered back inside, "Buddy, get dressed and leave the motel by the back way. I'll tell Sharon you left an hour ago. Understand?"

Then the girl left.

Sharon gathered up her brother's clothes and waited. In a moment she heard his bare feet pad toward her. She slipped out the door, placing a finger against her lips to indicate silence. She jerked her head toward the pool exit.

Buddy, wearing Harve's slingshot bathing suit, followed her.

She led him down the row of units to the one the quickie couple had vacated. She unlocked it, let him in, and made sure the blinds were down before she turned on the light.

The bedclothes were rumpled. A wet splotch stained the middle of the bed.

Buddy said, "Sharon, you wouldn't believe how Nancy turned on! She said she had a big cunt nobody had ever really filled before..."

"That's enough about her," Sharon snapped. She was eyeing his swimsuit pouch, stretched by bulging pink meat. She hated Nancy for having milked him out. He belonged to her.

She had to make him see Nancy as simply an easy fuck, to be used only when his sister indicated.

Sharon curled an arm behind her back, unzipped her dress and flicked off the bra hooks.

"Today you made my titties sore by sucking them too hard."

She turned toward him, dropping her dress and bra, and kneaded her bulbous, rosy tits. She saw a quirky movement in his bathing suit.

"Here, feel how hot my breasts are." She advanced on him and pressed them to his wide, plump, hairless chest.

"Are they hot because they're sore? Is that what happens?" She nuzzled his throat with wet kisses on it. She hugged him and swayed, rolling her meaty breasts on his chest.

Then she fingered down his belly into swimsuit, curling her fingers around the rising loop of his cock. Even soft it was such a luscious handful of meat.

He whispered, "Sit, you don't want to..."

"Yes. Right now. Lie down on the bed."

"But, Sis, I don't know if I can after banging Nancy..."

"I'll suck hard."

She dragged him to the bed. He dropped on it. She jerked the tiny swimsuit down to his thighs, baring that wide ruff of blond pubic hair, from which his cock rose and hung in a half-hard arc. She fingered between his legs and scooped up his scrotum and squeezed his nuts.

Then she knelt over him, fisting his prick, and bent to it. She licked the big, soft head, then lipped it in, nibbling and sucking until she had the whole flab of meat in her mouth.

She felt a strange contentment. She loved her brother, and was jealous of any other woman who came near him. She had him now, his whole cock in her mouth. She slurped at it and soon it burgeoned, stiffening and growing out of her lips. She gazed at the thick prick slowly appearing, wet with her saliva.

She felt us hand slide under her skirt and tug at her panties.

She drew off his cock long enough to skin out of the nylon briefs. She knelt again and impaled her mouth on the growing prick. She sucked softly, drawing off the head on each pull.

He was fondling her pussylips. He said, "Move over this way. I want to get a good look at your cunt."

She knelt, following his guiding hand. At last she straddled him, legs wide apart, their bodies now in a sixty-nine position.

He said, "Your split is open. The lips are shaped in a sort of oval. How do they get that way?"

Licking a fleck of white stuff from his glans, she said, "Silly, they open the same way a cock hardens. I get excited and blood pumps into the two sets of lips, both the hairy ones outside and the slick ones inside, and into my clit. The clit lengthens like a cock but the lips force against themselves and this makes them open to form a ring."

"Your ring looks awful big. And wet."

He was stroking all about her twat. Her hips began to respond by surging liquidly.

He said, "Let me lick it."

She lowered herself and felt his tongue spear into her hole.

Groaning, she impaled her mouth on his cock and went all the way down, her nose against his scrotum. She rose and fell on it while his tongue washed about her cunt, between the inner and outer lips, under the clitoral hood, then swabbing her clit, which began firing waves of heat into her belly.

She lipped off his cock and rubbed the slippery loaf against her cheek. She raised a ball to her mouth and sucked it in while jerking his prick off.

It was rigid now, a thick, pink pillar. She tongued out the ball and licked from the stem up to the head, vining her tongue about it, kissing the tip, sucking that way, then yawning and swallowing it.

His hips were moving. He choked, "Sis, you'll make me come!"

"Then come, honey! And don't stop lapping my cunt."

She held the erect prick in both hands, lipping and kissing the head. His hips jerked and tossed. He was starting to fuck her mouth. She gave it long, slippery sucks, pulling off with each one, then shoving her gaping mouth down on it, licking all the way until the knob was buried in her throat.

His tongue felt like a belt of fire racing from her clit to her hole. She was coming, jerking her twat, spilling juice on his face.

Then he bucked and his cock became as hard as iron, leaping at her mouth. She cried out in joy. She felt the cream boil up out of his balls. The cock became so engorged that it strained her jaws.

It blew. Oh, did it blow, shooting a blast into her throat. She choked on it, raised off, and the second shot of white stuff splashed all over her eyes and cheeks and mouth.

Her cunt knitted up tight and then broke. She shrieked through the explosive orgasm as she again ate cock and took the third splash into her throat, drank it down, sucked hard, drawing out more.

Together they groaned through orgasm.

It was over. They slumped down, spent. But Sharon did not stop sucking that delicious cock.

Chapter Six.

Hot sunshine burned in the window of the employees' lounge as Sharon peeled off her uniform dress.

Her night's work was done. She would sunbathe by the pool for an hour, then go to Harris Motors and take up Tom Thornton's offer of a demonstrator ride in the little bomb.

While unhooking her bra she recalled the sixty-nine she and Buddy had done. Oh, he would learn the hottest cunt in town was his sister's, that Nancy was nothing to get excited over. She was simply there to be used for their purposes.

She hung the bra in her locker and kneaded her breasts, thinking, I have Nancy now. I need only arrange for Bud Connoly to catch her humping Buddy's prick during working hours.

She looked down at her titties and rolled them, tugging at the points. She often did this after removing a tight bra. It felt terribly good to restore her boobs to freedom after the smothering compression of clammy nylon. She wished she could linger, gloating over the night's victory while playing with her breasts, but she had no time to waste. She slipped out of her panties and put on a yellow bikini. The bra formed meager caps on her titties, and the bottom part was barely adequate to cover her pussy hair and ass crack. She tied the bra straps behind, but let the shoulder cords dangle.

She had one worry. If she busted Nancy, Bud might replace her with some older, experienced person from the day shift.

Sharon knew she needed extra leverage. There were two angles. The first -- the apparently impossible -- was to seduce Bud. As his mistress she would have it made. The alternative was his wife, Lita.

Lita's gaze seemed to eat right through Sharon's clothing.

But could she swing with the lesbian scene?

She went out to the pool, glancing about in search of either Bud or Lita.

Both were usually here at this hour, Lita to spend an hour or so overseeing the Beachwear Boutique, Bud to begin his long day's work. He came at seven and normally refreshed himself with a swim at about this time.

Neither was in sight, but plenty of guests, in the pool and in lounge chairs on the lawn, stared at Sharon's out thrust breasts, which wobbled and lurched because of the lack of support. Normally she enjoyed such attention. Today she simply dropped down on the edge of the pool and dangled her feet in the water, wrapped up in her thoughts.

Nancy had told Buddy she had a big cunt and had never before been completely full of cock.

If Nancy were really turned on to him, maybe she could be maneuvered into fucking at midnight, when Bud made his regular inspection.

Sharon kept glancing at the employees' lounge exit. Bud usually changed to swim trunks there.

At last he appeared, wearing white trunks. His hairy chest looked a yard wide. Sharon saw him greet some guests. He patted a man's shoulder, shook hands with another. He moved toward the diving board by a circuitous course. Like a host at a cocktail party he touched flesh constantly and dropped a joke in every ear.

He was a bullshit artist, Sharon thought, but he knew how to handle people. Oh, she was learning things from Bud, even while gazing fixedly at the monstrous bulge in his white trunks. Just looking at the genital package brought a throb to her cunt. She dropped a hand between her legs and knuckled her pussy.

What hell it was, having the hots for a guy, knowing that in bed with him she could start her career rolling, but couldn't get at him.

Bud climbed the aluminum ladder to the high board, still grinning and chatting with people below. On top he paused, feet together, chest swelled out, his gaze measuring the board. He took three long steps, landing heavily on the last one.

The board snapped him up into a neat, stiff jackknife. He sprang out to an arrow shape that cut the water cleanly but, because of his bulk, there was a loud sound, and the splash shot high. He surfaced and swam slowly toward Sharon.

She remembered an old boy friend saying that nothing turned him on like the sight of a fringe of cunt hair that had escaped the crotch of a girl's bathing suit. She fingered down to a leg hole and pulled the stretchy nylon aside, exposing a tuft of auburn hair.

Legs spread, she waited for him.

When Bud neared her he glanced about to see if anyone were within hearing distance. Then his eyes twinkled and he said, "You look familiar, honey. Haven't I met you in some whorehouse?"

She smiled broadly. "Maybe. But I never remember men's faces. Just their jocks. I can't see yours."

He laughed. "My, but you're a sassy old gal this morning!"

His gaze paused on her crotch. He had spied her display of twat hair. But he made no comment on it.

He asked, "Did everything work out last night? That drunken party?"

She nodded. "We took care of it."

"I don't deserve the faithful employees I've got. You people keep things running so smooth I'll get as lazy as an old hound dog without fleas."

She smiled, still hoping he would remark on her pussy, but he turned away, saying, "I have to go make friends and influence people." Then he swam back toward the diving board ladder.

Zero, Sharon thought, sighing deeply. She was getting nowhere with Bud Connoly.

Just as he climbed out of the pool, his wife, Lita, emerged from the lobby exit.

He ran toward her, his arms outspread as though to crush his wet body against her. Lita wore a crisp blue dress. Shrieking with mock fright, she danced away. Bud grinned and trotted off to the employees' lounge.

The horseplay annoyed Sharon. It was yet another display of the affection that welded the two together so tightly that she could not pry Bud loose.

She eyed Lita, a tiny, nicely curved blonde of about twenty-five. She wore a huge straw sun hat. The crown was wrapped in wide pink ribbon. Sharon recognized the hat as one from the Boutique. Lita often modeled her own wares. Sharon guessed that today she would stroll around the pool and talk to people, trying to arouse interest in the sun hat.

Still seething from her failure with Bud, Sharon impulsively climbed to her feet, resolved to learn the truth about Lita. As she walked along the pool edge toward Lita, she saw the girl's gaze, sweeping about the pool, fix on her.

Sharon raised her arms to finger-comb her hair, thus lifting her breasts almost out of the bikini top. The heavy orbs quivered and wobbled. The bra material hung loosely on her nipples.

She watched Lita's reaction.

The girl's smile faded for a split second. There was a darkness in her eyes, like a hunger. A pink tonguetip stole out and wetted her lips.

Sharon was still rearranging her hair when she reached Lita and stopped, smiling at her.

Lita said, "Darling, you look simply delicious this morning! Every man present is staring at you."

Every man and at least one woman, Sharon thought.

She made an attempt to tug up her bra. "Am I showing too much?"

Lita chuckled. "You probably are. Especially some pussy hair that has escaped your suit crotch. Here, let me fix it."

She stepped close to shield Sharon's body from the gaze of others. She fingered the bikini crotch, stretching it out, then tucked the errant hair back under the yellow material. Her feather-light touch seemed to burn Sharon's groin.

Lita took her time at it too, at last patting the material in place, saying, "There! Done. But I must say, you're still not quite presentable. I can see a dark line of moisture in your crotch. Have you been having sexy thoughts?"

Lita was smiling, her manner casual. But her touch had been a caress. Sharon felt tongue-tied. She studied the other's heart-shaped face. Grayish eyes were shadowed by the hat brim, which made them seem sultry despite her casual air. Her dress front clung to breasts that seemed very large for her diminutive torso, and her short skirt exposed beautifully turned legs.

Sharon was on the point of saying that the cunt juice that had wetted through her swimsuit crotch was Lita's doing. But she decided on caution. She really was not sure about Lita's sexual leanings.

She said, "I was thinking about a little white convertible I want to buy. Do you think that could have moistened my pussy?"

Lita laughed. "You mean, you're queer for a car? What a fun kink! You must tell me about it." Her hand closed caressingly on Sharon's arm. "Darling, this whole bathing suit thing is absurd. Wouldn't you rather swim nude?"

Sharon shrugged. "There's no place around here..."

"But there's the pool at my house. Would you like to swim there? Private? Just the two of us?"

"Yes."

Sharon had spoken hurriedly. Now a flush burned her throat as she realized the implications.

Lita's hand still stroked her arm. "Then, Sharon, I'll meet you at my place in an hour. I still have a little work to do at the Boutique."

Sharon nodded agreement and hurried off to the lounge.

There she found that her legs were trembling violently. She had to sit down to gather her wits. Could she swim naked with a lesbian? Well, she had an hour. Maybe driving the little white bomb would take her mind off it and ease her nerves.

She changed into a halter and shorts and hurried out of the motel and headed downtown toward Harris Motors. She walked rapidly, as though fleeing something, and was still trembling when she entered the showroom.

Tom Thornton came out of the office. He smiled in his smooth, professional salesman's way.

"Ready to go for a drive?"

She nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. Tom offered her a set of car keys.

She said, "I feel kind of shaky. I'd better not drive."

He frowned. "Has something upset you? You look pale."

"It's been a long night's work. Problems."

"What you need is a shot of whiskey." He took her arm and steered her into the office. There he opened a file cabinet drawer that contained a quart bottle. He unscrewed the cap, poured a shot in it and handed it to Sharon.

She had never drunk whiskey straight. She swallowed it and the stuff burned her throat. She gagged, her eyes streaming.

He chuckled. "It's a strong dose, but you'll feel better now." He replaced the bottle and led her out a back door to the used car lot. They paused beside a replica of Sharon's beloved bomb. However, it was blue and somewhat dented. Its appearance impoverished her dream. Still, climbing in on the passenger's side, inserting herself in the narrow space, she felt a certain thrill. And when Tom started the motor, the howl of it made her smile broadly.

He wheeled the little car out to the seaside boulevard. Sharon buckled her seatbelt and settled down to enjoy the wind whipping tears from her eyes and flailing her hair.

She watched Tom, studying his lengthy, hard-looking body, trying to superimpose his forceful masculinity on the image of the lovely Lita that kept bobbing up in her vision.

On almost every heartbeat she felt a burning in her groin, where Lita had lifted her bikini crotch and replaced the fringe of twat hair. Never before had a girl touched her pussy. Oh, when she was a young kid, she and some other girls had experimented with kissing and feeling titties.

But this was different. It was lesbianism, and her bowels were quaking.