Chapter 4

The voluptuous young blonde was too tired the following day to even think about how her hot little cunt ached to be fucked. She spent almost the entire day on her feet shooting stills for a shoe company. Since she had been so busy, she didn't know that Bob, the man she had seen fucking Kelly two nights ago, was shooting right next door in another studio. He was brought over to her as she was resting, and was introduced by Kelly as a well-known photographer.

A shudder of recognition thundered through Cherie as. she looked at the stocky, hard-muscled features of Bob Avery. As Kelly presented him, Cherie noticed that his eyes kept flicking to the full cantaloupe mounds of Kelly's huge luscious tits. She thought for a moment that they might have seen her standing at the bedroom door while they were fucking, but she dismissed the thought as silly. They had been too busy moaning and writhing wantonly about, as Bob had fucked his huge cunt-splitting cock in and out, in and out of Kelly's naked greedily devouring little pussy. Oh God, her own pussy was getting all hot and juicy again, just thinking about how hard and deep Bob's cock had fucked Kelly's hot cunt. But she smiled up at the man in front of her, still envisioning the sight of his hugely erect cock fucking into the other's moistly clasping cunt. God, I hope he can't tell that my pussy's all hot and wet!

"I . . . I'm pleased to meet you," she said as Kelly walked away. "I suppose being a well-known photographer is hard work sometimes."

"It is sometimes," he said as he sat on the edge of a chair. Even though he had been standing over her, Cherie noticed that his new position gave him a better view of her own body trembling titties, and she could almost feel his eyes burning through her thin, tight-fitting blouse to the hardening pink nipples. "Things aren't so bad at the moment. We're really raking it in. But even that increases the damn work load."

"I'd like to learn more about how the fashion business works," she said, wanting to be friendly to her neighbor's boyfriend.

"Babe, what you learn is how to survive when there are hundreds of other chicks competing for the same jobs. That's all there is to it. And that means playing ball. It works the same way in here as it does out there."

"And playing ball can be a lot of fun, dear," Kelly said as she reappeared with a coffee cup.

"What do you mean, playing 'ball'?" Bob asked with a broad grin on his face, pulling his glance away from Cherie's shapely young body to Kelly's salaciously wriggling ass as she walked to the coffee machine.

"Well ... it all depends on who you play ball with," Kelly retorted, pressing her body up against Bob's. Cherie could see that the handsome older man's cock was starting to swell obscenely in his pants as he gazed unabashedly at her full thrusting tits.

"You said a mouthful, babe," Bob said, taking a sip of coffee before giving her the cup back and returning to his desk.

Cherie felt very ill at ease after he left, though Kelly seemed to be very happy. "He . . . he's really quite nice," Cherie said to be polite, even though she found that she did not like the lecherous man the voluptuous black-haired model had been fucked by right before her eyes.

"Yes, Cherie, he's very nice. And you might get a chance to find out just how nice, if you want, honey."

Cherie narrowed her big blue eyes as she tried to figure out what Kelly was getting at, but the luscious, dark-haired model sauntered back to her seat next to Bob.

For his part, Bob kept a cool, professional attitude for the rest of the day. He was pretty delighted with Kelly's new neighbor, and he could see that she was going to be a lot of fun, even if she didn't know it yet It was always nice to have a fresh piece of ass around. Kelly was a pretty good fuck, but frankly, he was getting a little tired of her insatiable cunt. She was always asking him when her next promotion was coming. He could remember when she was on the bottom, and now here she was, almost demanding that Bob use his influence and make her the agency's top model.

The muscular man smiled to himself as he thought about Cherie saying that she wanted to learn more about the modeling business. She must believe all that bullshit about advancement and opportunity based on hard work. God! Sometimes, he thought Kelly believed it herself. Well, in a way it was true, he thought to himself with a chuckle. But skill in the bed, not in the studio, was what was required. Kelly had learned that early enough, and if she wanted to make herself think something else, that was her fucking business.

Cherie was just young and innocent enough to believe it, though, he thought. Wait until she's been around a bit longer.

The rest of the week passed quickly for Cherie. Even though she saw Russ and Bob every day in the studio, she was too busy to pay much attention to them. Bob especially was making it a point to be obnoxiously flirtatious, and Cherie felt uncomfortable about having him be that way while Kelly was in the studio. The older girl didn't seem to mind, though.

During that week, Kelly and Cherie saw a great deal of each other. The young blonde used her evenings to settle into her apartment, arranging things just the way she wanted them. It was the first time she had ever had a whole apartment alone, and she was finding her new freedom very exciting.

Russ had called her twice, and although she felt as though she wouldn't mind going out with him to dinner as he asked her, she put him off by saying that she wanted to get things squared away. There were some things Kelly had said about him that made the young blonde apprehensive about being with him, though she couldn't see what her neighbor could have against him that would make her hate him so much. She did reassure him that she would see him at the party since she was going with Kelly.

When Thursday came around, Kelly gave her neighbor the day off, telling her that she would begin a full week's shooting next Monday. Cherie used the time to splurge on a new outfit for the party. Even though she had been told it would be an informal party, she wanted to look her best. She was making more money at her job now than she ever had, and she decided that she would start looking like it. Besides, she was still a little unsure about being around so many important people.

She showered and dressed in the low cut, light blue dress she had bought in the afternoon. The dress was a little small for her, and as she gave her shoulder-length hair a few final brushes, she found that her dress deeply accented her sensually swelling tits, and full, smoothly curved ass.

When she opened her door for Kelly, she blushed a little as the older woman said she looked as though she were dressed to kill.

"I want to make a good impression," she said. "I . . . I still feel as though I'll be a little out of place there."

"Only because you'll be with Russ," Kelly teased. Kelly was dressed in jewel-studded denim pants that were so tight Cherie could see the outline of her panties underneath. "But take my word for it, kid . . . you should be able to take care of yourself. You might even get to meet Gaylord Montague himself."

"The Big Guy?" Cherie asked, trying to be cool.

"He's the Big Guy all right," Kelly smiled as she lit a long, slender cigarette. "He's not usually at these things, but sometimes he shows up."

"Just where is it we're going?"

"Tonight we're going to one of Bob's ex's apartments in Greenwich Village. Don't worry. It's like Bob told me, you're smart enough to be able to handle yourself."

The two girls rode to the apartment in Kelly's bright red MG and when they arrived, Cherie found that she was in a place that was lavish beyond her wildest dreams. The apartment was a huge penthouse that afforded a lovely view of Washington Square at night. By the time the two neighbors arrived, the party already appeared to have been going for some time.

Cherie could see that no expense had been spared in providing for the party. White-jacketed waiters moved among the crowd, handing out drinks from trays and taking empty glasses. There was an elaborate sound system, and the music playing over the general din of the crowd was loud punk rock. Cherie was certain that she could smell the obvious odor of marijuana.

Kelly led Cherie to the bar where Russ was sitting two stools away from Bob. The shapely young blonde could see that the two men disliked each other as much as Kelly and Russ did. The two girls took their seats next to their respective dates. Russ stood up when he saw Cherie sitting between him and Kelly.

"Hi, babe, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming," he said teasingly. "Would you like something to drink?"

Cherie was about to tell him that she really didn't, but Kelly leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, "If I were you, I'd have something really strong. I'm used to this type of party, and I know I'm going to have at least a dozen drinks to get me through. You can diet this weekend while you're recovering."

Cherie wondered what the necessity was, but she shrugged her shoulders and allowed Russ to order her a scotch and soda. It was very strong, but she was so nervous, she hardly noticed the alcohol at all.

In fact, it was so delicious to her that she finished it a little too quickly, and Russ ordered her another. She took her time with the second one, and while Kelly and Bob were talking to each other, she decided that she would get to know Russ a little better.

"I'm really sorry that I didn't go out with you all this week," she said, turning to the handsome young photographer sitting next to her. "But I really wanted to get settled. Now that I'm established at my apartment, I'll feel a little more secure about going out."

"Kelly told me that you're a friend of Spencer Stanton," Russ said, leaning forward and resting his eyes on the sensuous swell of her hugely billowing tits. Cherie felt a little uncomfortable about having him leer at her titties like he was, but she decided that she wasn't going to let it bother her too much. After all, they were big and sexy looking and she should get used to men staring at them, especially since she was in New York City.

"Yes . . . very good friends . . . he's in Europe now doing some layouts for Ferrari. I met him when he came to my high school in Bakersfield to give a talk about careers in photography."

"So this is really the first time you've been all on your own," Russ observed, shifting his body slightly so that his knee was pressing against Cherie's. She thought that she should move her exposed knee away, but there was still nothing threatening about the sophisticated young man, and she was finding him more and more attractive.

"I ... mm ... I guess it is, Russ."

"How do you like working at the studio so far? Russ asked. His leg was moving up and down along her own, and she wasn't certain if it was in time to the loud music or in some mental rhythm of fucking. But whatever it was, she was feeling herself becoming more aroused down there in her cunt than she would have liked. The scotch was affecting her mind a little, making the room seem to weave from side to side, and her pussy lips began to ache and seep warm, moistening juices against her pink silk panties.

"I . . . I like it. It's interesting and exciting. Where did all these people come from, though? Do they all work in the business?"

Russ pulled back his body a little as he laughed warmly. "Most of them do. You'd be surprised how big it is," he explained. "At a party like this people try and secure their positions in the business. You might even get to see your neighbor working for her own betterment."

Again, his hatred for the voluptuous raven-haired girl was evident, and Cherie was determined that she would not allow their personal quarrel keep her from having fun at the party.

"Let's not talk about Kelly tonight," she said, politely but firmly. Russ shrugged his shoulders, and as the music over the speakers changed from a loud fast song to a slow, quiet one, many of the people at the bar left to dance. Cherie felt Kelly leave her side and go to the dance floor with Bob. The young blonde followed her neighbor with her eyes, watching Bob's arms extend down to the small of Kelly's back, his palms cupping lasciviously over the tight rounded moons of the girl's sensually swaying asscheeks.

"Would you like to dance?" Russ asked, rising from his chair and taking her by the hand before she had a chance to answer. As though she were suddenly in a dream, Cherie was curled warmly in his arms, her body pulled gently against his so that the tips of her full billowing tits pushed tautly into his muscular chest. She could feel his eyes on her, looking down the low cut neckline of her dress to the deep cleavage of her softly bouncing tits, and she tried to ignore his hands opening and closing against her back. As long as he doesn't try to do anything more, she thought, I could really like dancing like this with him.

"Have you met many men since you've been in New York?" Russ whispered into her ear. His hot breath against her cheek was increasing the unwanted quivering in her pussy lips. She tried to pull back, feeling her resolve slip away as she thought of the true meaning of his question. He knew damn well she hadn't had any time to meet any men.

"Hey, you don't have to be afraid of me," he said as he felt her pull her warm body slightly away from him. "I'm not as dangerous as, say, Bob Avery."

Cherie felt her face flush slightly as she tried to relax. This was a big city, and things were different here than they were in Bakersfield. She was glad that she had finished her second drink. It made her feel a little more comfortable. She could feel his huge, hardened cock pushing against her cunt as she loosened her body somewhat, and the hard little mound of her pussy was rubbing against the top of his thigh. Then, the young blonde became aware of her left thigh making even more direct contact with his heavily throbbing prick. Breathing wetly into her ear, he ground his hardness slowly and methodically up and down against her taut little belly. She fought the instinct to force herself away from him.

"You . . . you like dancing very close, don't you?" Cherie asked, hoping that she had put enough edge into her voice to show him that she was becoming a little uncomfortable without insulting him.

"It's a good way to get to know people . . . like having lunch with you when you first came here."

"It's a pretty direct way," she laughed. Russ was being almost as kind and gentle with her as Spencer had been, although before she had allowed Spencer to dance with her like this, she had known him for almost three weeks.

"Are you bothered?" he asked, as though he expected her to say no.

"It's not something I'm used to," she said, fighting to remain cool. She knew she would have to be working with this man, and even though he was getting a little too familiar for her, it was better than being alone ... or with Frankie Scarletti or Bob Avery.

"This isn't a high school dance back in Bakersfield," Russ told her. "And an attractive, intelligent young girl like you must be used to the attentions of men." As he spoke, he gave a sharp tug against the smooth place of her back.

Cherie swallowed hard. What he said was true. She was used to the attentions of men. In a way, she was a little sorry she had such a perfect figure. Russ though, was becoming more bold with her than any of his actions during the week would have indicated. Now it seemed to the luscious young blonde that he was actually trying to seduce her. She was attracted to him, but she wished he would go just a little slower. She knew that after all her high school years with only casual dates, she was especially vulnerable to what was happening to her, but she did not want to get caught up in something she wasn't sure she would be able to handle.

"The two of us are unattached, and something really good can come of that ... if you like. Besides, you know that a good deal of advancement in the world is done at parties like this."

He swung the hardness of his throbbing cock snugly against her belly, grinding his rapidly stiffening prick more insistently into the smooth resiliency of her flesh.

"I was told that advancement is based on talent and beauty and hard work, and that's how I intend to advance in the business," she said, her voice carrying a strong sense of determination.

Then, to her total surprise, Russ suddenly pulled away from her and looked directly into her deep blue eyes. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Cherie," he said, "I hope you never change your mind on that, no matter what happens."

Then he took her in his arms again and continued dancing. Cherie felt his heavily pulsing cock once more pressing against her pussy. Her mind, though, was on what he had said. There had been a strong urgency in his voice, and she found that she couldn't really understand what he meant.

Her big blue eyes traveled to the other couples dancing on the floor, and she saw Bob and Kelly only a few feet away from her and Russ. Her neighbor and Bob were swaying back and forth, not moving from their rocking stance to the music, their thighs and asses rotating perceptibly in a semblance of fucking to the full, rich tones of the music which seemed to permeate the entire dimly-lit room in Greenwich Village.

"I think I should tell you, though, that some pretty bad things can happen if you continue with that thinking," Russ told her.

From the tone in his voice, Cherie got the idea that there was something Russ was not telling her. She wanted to ask him what it was, but the music stopped, and he pulled away from her, leading her back to the bar.

Getting her another scotch and soda and one for himself, he motioned to a table in a corner of the room. Cherie was already a little tipsy from the two drinks she had had before, and she was not all that sure that she wanted another, but she took the one he offered her, and sat down opposite him. She found, as they sat and talked, that Russ was really a witty, pleasant person to be with, and only occasionally did she feel his knee against hers. She was certain that he was doing it by accident this time, and whatever apprehension she had felt about him on the dance floor vanished. She was glad that she had, been open and firm with him. Time seemed to pass quickly while she was setting and talking to him, and she did not even object when someone handed her a joint.

She had smoked grass when she was in high school, though only once or twice on a dare. Smoking had never been as open as it seemed to be at this party in Greenwich Village. She was feeling very relaxed and giddy after a couple of hours, when she noticed that she couldn't find Kelly. She could see Bob talking to another woman, a sensual looking redhead sitting on the floor in a far corner of the room. The muscular man had his hand on the redhead's firm, hugely billowing tit, and he was squeezing and kneading her luscious mound while he inched his face closer to hers.

"Are you looking at something?" Russ asked, waving his hand in front of her face. "Or are you just thinking ... the way you were doing at lunch?"

"I ... I was wondering where Kelly was," she said, amazed that after she had seen Bob and Kelly dance the way they had, Kelly's boyfriend would be actually trying to seduce another woman. Could Kelly have seen him pressing his hand on another girl's tit and become jealous? It seemed likely.

"Kelly's still here," Russ said. "I saw her talking with Gaylord Montague, the big wheel of the agency."

"You mean . . . he's here?" Cherie's eyes beamed. "Kelly wasn't sure that he would be."

"Oh, he's here all right, and if I'm not mistaken, you'll get a chance to meet him and help advance yourself."

"Tonight?"

"No, not tonight," Russ laughed. "At the moment Kelly is ... talking to him."

Cherie strained her head up to look for the voluptuous, dark fashion model, but even though there were many people in the large room, she could not see Kelly anywhere.

"She's not here . . . she's down the hall in Gaylord's favorite room. I could take you to see him, but you probably wouldn't like it."

Had Cherie not had more to drink than she could remember, she would not have pressed the issue, but she was determined now that she meet as many people as she could. She wanted to become a success in New York.

"I think I would like to meet him," Cherie said, downing the rest of her drink and setting it on the table in firm playfulness. "If Kelly can talk to him, so can I."

Russ looked at his empty glass as though he were debating whether he should do what she was asking. From the talk they had had all evening, he found that he was becoming rather fond of Cherie, and the last thing he wanted to do now was hurt her. But she was becoming insistent, and he finally decided that he might just as well do what she wanted.

Taking Cherie's hand, he led her through the side hallway to a large darkened room at the end. The door to the room was closed, though Cherie could see light coming from the bottom crack. Away from the larger room, the music was not as loud, and as Russ and she approached the door, the lovely young blonde could hear low groaning sounds from the room.

"I think Gaylord is having his conference, and something tells me it's going very well."

As he reached for the door knob, Cherie reached out and touched his hand. "Don't you think you should knock first?" she said in a polite sounding voice.

"Any knocking wouldn't be heard, Russ answered her, and with that, he opened the door ...