Chapter 1
Steve Conway felt the need for sex as he walked the corridors of Joliet State Prison for the last time. He scarcely heard the muted calls of good luck coming to him from the men behind the barred doors. His mind was on the outside, an outside he hadn't seen in three years. He looked down at the cheap blue suit he'd just been given and found it hard to' recognize himself in anything but prison denim.
When Conway came to a steel door he waited for his guard escort to catch up. When he did he rapped on the panel with his stick and it opened onto another hall.
"Down there," the guard rasped, indicating the direction with his club.
"I thought I was getting out," Conway protested. He knew this wasn't the way to the outer world. To Margo's hot body and the freedom to use it.
"The warden wants to see you," the guard said.
"What about?"
The man with the brass buttons on his coat gave Conway a push. "That's for you to find out."
Conway started walking reluctantly until he was opposite the door marked WARDEN. At a nod from the guard he went in.
Warden Hankins looked up from the papers on his desk as Conway came into the room. There wasn't the flicker of a smile on his stern face. He appraised the man with practiced eyes. Conway certainly didn't look like the kid of twenty he'd been when he arrived at Joliet. Three years of prison life had aged him. The ohubby fat of his face was gone, Hankins reflected. In its place was a set of lean, hardened features belonging to a man much older than twenty-three. Of course the scar along his chin added to the illusion. It served as a reminder to Hankins that Steve Conway was well on his way to becoming a hardened criminal. Hadn't he tried to kill a man the first week he'd been at Joliet? That scar was from a guard's billy used to break up the fight.
Hankins leaned back in his chair, wondering to himself if his job was really worth it. Conway was still only a kid. And yet Hankin's was about to release him on an unsuspecting public, unable to warn those on the other side of the wall that this good-looking youth would as soon use a shiv as look at a person.
"You wanted to see me?" Conway snapped, angry at the delay in his getting out.
Hankins nodded and leaned across his desk. He picked up some money and handed it to Conway. "Here's your fifty dollars. It's a standard amount we give all released prisoners." He added meaningfully, "But I'm sure you won't need it."
Conway smiled bitterly and put the money away. "Why not? I have to eat like everybody else."
"You know what I mean," Hankins said.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't," Conway said. "In either case it's something for you to think about."
Hankins grated at the insolent tone in Conway's voice. Right now he felt like taking a billy to the punk himself. But he knew he couldn't. Hankins was under orders from higher up to leave the kid strictly alone. Just the same, he had to get a few things off his chest or he'd wind up beating his kids when he got home. He got up from the desk and went around to face Conway. He had to look up to the six-footer. "You'll be back in here," he said angrily.
Conway shook his head. "Not me, warden. I've learned my lesson. I intend to be a very good boy from now on." Sexing Margo, he thought.
"Like hell you will," Hankins grunted. He stuck his chin out. "I just want you to know I was against your parole."
"You don't have to tell me that," Conway said. "I never figured you were on my side."
"I think it's a damned mistake to let you go."
A slight smile formed in the corner of Conway's mouth. He knew he was bugging the warden, and he began to enjoy himself. "Aren't you supposed to be giving me a lecture on the value of going straight when I leave here?" he asked, his tone mocking. "I heard you shook all the boys' hands when they left and wished them luck." He extended his arm. "Here's mine."
Warden Hankins spun on his heels and walked across the room to the window. For a moment he looked down onto the narrow yard below, formed by the surrounding four brick walls. It was exercise period, and most of the convicts were milling around, trying to forget the twenty or so guards armed with rifles to see they didn't try and escape.
Hankins turned back to Conway. "You going to tell us where the money is?"
The dark-haired man smiled even more broadly. At the same time he shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture. "What money, warden? Or do you mean the fifty bucks you just gave me?"
Warden Hankins was losing his temper fast. "Get die hell out of here," he spat. He motioned at the guard standing beside the door to enforce the order. "Throw him out of the front door. I don't want to see this punk again."
Conway didn't have time to be angry. He was too anxious to follow the guard. He gave the warden a final insolent smile and left the room. His shoes made a peculiar sound as they walked the cement floor. Three corridors, five steel doors, and one set of steps later they were out in the yard, skirting the other prisoners as they approached the front gate.
Conway stopped as his escort showed the release papers to the man in the little room. He could see the outside now, through the banks of steel in front of him. He breathed a little heavier, realizing that after so many months he was only a few steps from freedom and a female's body.
"Okay, Conway," the guard called out to him. "You can go."
Another door opened and Conway stepped through it. And just like that, he was on the outside. To his back were the four walls that he'd grown so used to.
Conway stood still, sucking in air, wondering why it should suddenly taste so good. Maybe because there was no smell of sweat from a hundred men's bodies. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed cleanliness.
Conway blinked his eyes against the glare of the noonday sun and looked around him. The highway fronting the prison was crowded with cars coming and going to the nearby town of Joliet. In the distance there were trees and grass, clouds and buildings, kids playing in empty fields. Closer by, a tractor chugged noisily down a half-grown field of corn.
Conway listened to the crescendo of noise and enjoyed each and every sound. None of it sounded like a hundred tin cups in the mess hall. Or the snoring of many men in the middle of the night.
"Three years," Conway muttered to himself. He'd never known that time could pass so slowly.
And suddenly Conway felt the sensations of uncertainty. For the first time he was on his own. Out here no one told him when to eat, go to bed, or read. In this world he had to learn to make decisions again.
The first decision was what to do next. Conway felt a trickle of sweat beneath the heavy suit as he turned the possibilities over in his mind. His natural thought was to get back to the big city, Chicago. But that was thirty miles away. Just how the hell did he go about making the trip?
Coming to the prison had been no sweat. The state had taken care of that for him. After he'd been judged guilty of the bank job the law had been very kind concerning his transportation. They'd dumped him in a police van and hauled him out here.
Getting home was up to him ... if Margo didn't show up. Margo and her hot flesh.
The first step, Conway decided, was to put one leg in front of the other and walk out of here. He glanced up at the guards in their ivory towers and strode off in the direction of town, anxious to put as much of the nightmare behind him as possible.
Other thoughts began to crowd into his mind as the realization he was free sank in. Foremost of all was Margo. Just why the hell wasn't she here to meet him? In her last letter she'd promised him she'd pick him up.
Steve looked around again. None of the passing cars were doing under forty. They were obeying the big red warning signs to the letter: JOLIET PRISON. DO NOT STOP. MINIMUM SPEED 40. The guards up in their guard posts added emphasis to the painted word.
Conway stripped off his coat and draped it over his lean shoulder. He was finding it impossible to get Margo out of his mind.
And with good reason. For six months before he'd been sent up she'd been his steady girl. That meant she'd performed as his regular mistress.
Every night for three years Conway had raped her again and again in his dreams, seeing her time after time with her eager charms.
She'd had plenty. Steve hadn't forgotten an inch of that beautiful, slim, naked body with the big boobs.
He'd damned himself a hundred times over for not appreciating it more when sex had been so plentiful. And now that he was out he was damned well going to make up for lost time.
Conway chuckled to himself, wondering if he'd be able to pass any dame by without throwing her onto the sidewalk. He'd had one hell of a long dry spell.
His mind went back to Margo and he damned her again. Why the hell hadn't she come? Thoughts of her out with other guys made the small hairs on his neck bristle. Still, he had to be practical. She was a dame, and all dames have only one thing on their mind. He couldn't blame her for taking what was given. Just why hadn't she come down here to give him a little? What he needed most at this moment was a friendly face instead of the fannies of retreating cars.
Steve had just resigned himself to the fate of a long train ride back to town when he heard a car horn sound off. He looked up and across the road. At first he didn't recognize the figure behind the wheel of the convertible. When he finally did see who it was, a broad smile cracked his face.
Damned if Margo hadn't come after all.
Ignoring the racing traffic Conway sprinted across the highway. "It's about time you got here," he growled when he was close enough to be heard.
The woman smiled. "I'm sorry, Steve. Traffic held me up."
Conway's pent-up frustrations poured forth. "You sure you just couldn't get out of some guy's sack in time?"
"That's no way to talk," Margo scolded. "You know I'm saving all I have for you."
"I bet," Conway growled. He went around to the passenger side of the car and slid in.
"Don't you want to drive? Margo asked.
He shook his head. "I'm not sure I could. It's been a long time." He looked over at the woman beside him. Just being near anything female sent his glands into overtime. He reflected that she wasn't as cute as he remembered. The smooth, doll-like face had a few lines that he'd forgotten about. Her body hadn't changed though. Everything was well-packed into the tight dress that dipped low at the neck. Her breasts thrust well forward toward the dash, straining hard at the material that contained them. All in all, she was still quite a dish.
Margo smiled as she noticed his inventory. "You like?" she asked.
Conway slid closer to her. He rested his hand on a thigh. The feel of the garter beneath the cloth sent his temperature soaring. "Yeah," he agreed. "I sure as hell do."
"Then how about kissing me. It's been a long time." Margo tilted her mouth.
Conway needed no second invitation. He pulled the girl to him roughly and clamped his mouth tightly over hers. There was no subtle 'technique to the embrace. Conway let his tongue do the talking. Her warm and supple lips lighted a fire in his guts.
When Margo moaned and tried to pull away Conway refused to let her go. He used his hand to bring her to the heights he felt, driving up beneath the dress, not stopping until the coolness of her panties was beneath his touch.
Margo's reaction was immediate. She thrust her body against that hand, not caring that he was now on the intimacy of the flesh itself.
"Not here," she managed to say at last, pulling away from him with some difficulty.
"Where then?"
"We'll go to my apartment."
Conway knew he couldn't wait that long. "No," he disagreed. "That's two hours away. Isn't there a motel near here?"
Margo looked down at the point where his hand vanished beneath her skirt, feeling weak from what he was doing to her. "I suppose there is."
"Then go there," Conway ordered.
Margo looked over at him and smiled. "Just what are you planning to do to me?"
Conway gave his hand an extra squeeze, enjoying the expression of weakness in her face. "If you don't know, I won't tell you," he grinned.
"You really want it bad don't you?"
"Just what the hell do you think?"
"What have you to offer in return?" Margo teased.
He took her hand and pressed it against his body.
"Three years of waiting."
"Oh, Lord," Margo said softly. "Beautiful ... if I can wait."
"Let's find out," Conway suggested.
Margo pressed her lips together and nodded. She started the engine and eased back onto the highway, sliding into the steady stream of traffic, trying to ignore 'his hand.
Conway tried to control himself. It wasn't easy. The girl was ready and so was he. "You wouldn't happen to have a drink would you?" he asked.
"In the glove compartment."
Conway took his hand back, noting with satisfaction that Margo made no motion to pull her dress down over her exposed, shapely thighs. One garter strap dangled uselessly, unhooked from her stocking. He found the small bottle of bourbon and took a long drink, rolling the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it. Had anything ever tasted as good? Conway wanted more but he was afraid of spoiling the primary business at hand. He extended the jug at Margo. "Want some?"
"Not now. You know what it does to me."
Conway chuckled as memory came back. Whiskey had always made her sleepy. He reached over and fondled one of her breasts through the dress. It seemed heavier than he remembered. "You aren't heavier are you," he said, smiling.
Margo made a face. "Not yet." There's a lot of me there."
Conway was a trifle startled by her frankness. In the distant past she's always remained a lady ... even when her clothes were off and he was snuggled up against her. It was obvious to him that Margo had changed.
Not that he cared. At the moment, she could have been as purple as the famous cow and he still would have wanted her. There was a lot of emotion that needed out. Margo was the only recipient available. Delicacy didn't mean a damn at a time like this.
"Let s soc something," Conway growled, annoyed at their delay in getting to a motel.
Margo smiled at him. "Top or bottom?"
"Both."
"You're a hog. She raised herself on the seat with one hand long enough to slide her dress from beneath her. The black panties with the lace around the edges were in vivid contrast to the red leather upholstery she was seated upon.
"Take those damned things off," Conway ordered.
Margo laughed and shook her head. "I will;" she promised. "When we get to where we're going."
The woman was driving Conway crazy. It was bad enough having been without for so long. "What's die matter with this place?" he asked as they approached a group of buildings alongside the highway.
"It's so shabby," Margo protested.
"All we want is a bed," Conway growled. "You won't have much time to inspect the joint."
The girl shrugged and pulled onto the gravel drive. As they stopped in front of the building marked OFFICE, she quickly tugged her dress to a decent level.
"You'd better get the room," Conway suggested. "They might guess where I've been staying."
Margo opened her door and slid onto the road. "Do you want a single or double bed?" she smiled.
"Get a move on," Conway ordered gruffly. He watched die woman vanish into the building, admiring the movement of her firm bottom. Then he looked around. As Margo had said, the motel wasn't a triple A type. Most of the lawn was dead or dying. The units were little more than wooden shacks sadly in need of paint. A few cars were parked in the stalls provided and in view of the hour, it wasn't hard to imagine what the occupants were doing inside the rooms.
Conway lit a cigarette. He reflected that he didn't have any kick coming. Less than four hours ago he'd been behind bars. Now he was free, he had a drink beneath his belt and a dame waiting to be taken. What the hell did it matter if this joint wasn't the Ritz? The better things would come later.
Margo returned to the car jiggling a key. "We're in number seven," she announced.
"Any trouble?"
"Nothing except hands." She nodded toward the office she'd just left. "The old man in there is all alone with very young ideas. He seems to like the fed of his women customers."
"Did you let him?"
Margo got into the car and drove it toward the parking place. "Of course," she admitted. "He looked as if he could use a thrill.
Her bluntness shocked Conway. He hadn't grown used to the change in Margo.
"You coming?" Margo prompted as she left the car. As she approached the door her fingers Were already on the buttons of the dress. By the time Conway came up to her everything was loose from the waist up, including her belt and the zipper to her skirt.
"You don't waste much time," he smiled, taking the key from her hand.
"Why not? We're both adults and know what we want."
Conway's hand shook as he unlocked the panel. He stepped back to let Margo pass. By now she'd taken off the dress and stood out there in the briefest of bra and panties, seemingly unconcerned that anyone passing along the highway could get an excellent view of her splendid body. The long garter straps snaking from beneath her underclothing added wickedness to the scene. "You certainly aren't very modest," Conway grunted.
"Why should I be?" Margo said, smiling. "I don't care who looks. It's who uses me that's important."
Conway guided her into the room and closed the door behind them. The interior of the unit was about as bad as the outside. Cheap wallpaper with long-faded roses held the wall together. Cracked linoleum made up the floor. One bed almost filled the space and close by a beat-up John, visible through an open door, gurgled noisily. Somehow this took all the fun from what Conway intended doing. He'd spent many a night planning how he'd spend his first evening in the open. None of his thoughts involved this shabbiness.
In his mind's eye he'd seen a fancy suite with room service being run ragged. He'd pictured Margo in long, loose-fitting negligee that hid everything but offered plenty of promise. Though the window would have been a panorama of Chicago, showing him everything he'd missed in those three long years.
This was not at all as he'd planned. But he had picked the motel.
Margo broke into Conway's thoughts. Considering her state of undress it wasn't difficult. "You don't act as if your mind is on your work," she scolded. "I'll have to fix that."
She did, in the most direct way possible, unzipping his trousers, bringing him into 'the air. Her face seemed to go slightly pale as she looked at him. "Oh," she said softly. "Beautiful. All men should have to wait as long."
The warmth and strength of her hand brought Conway back to full heat instantly. He growled his pleasure and brought her to him, twisting her lips to meet his with his hand in her hair. The mouth was an inviting, wide-open canyon of desire.
Their kiss was a muted explosion in the quiet of the room. Margo whimpered and pushed her stomach at his, positioning herself.
Conway held on tight and did his part. The warmth of the woman was unbelievable. His hands roaming her back enjoyed the soft flesh, broken only by the remaining bra strap. He dipped the fingers low and went beneath the panties and felt the strong muscles of her buttocks working as she tried to press even closer.
Margo's eyes were fogged as she looked up at Conway. "You'll kill me."
"Want to quit?"
"You know better than that." Her fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt. "Get undressed."
Conway shook his head. He was too far gone for any delays. "Later. We got other business right now."
"With your shoes on?"
He pushed her gently away and rolled the elastic of the panties down. When her broad hips slowed the downward movement he tore the thin cloth away. A garter belt still clung about her waist, and the bra continued to cover her breasts. These didn't 'matter. All he could see were her firm thighs. Conway teased her, touching her, pulling back, going close again.
Margo whimpered softly. Her breath came heavy as she ran her hands between them and guided him to more sensitive grounds. "You can't go standing up," she whispered in his throat.
"Do something about it."
She did, guiding him toward the bed, sinking onto her back and waiting for him to join her. "Take me," she cried out, raising her legs in the air.
Conway could barely see the woman through the sweat pouring down his forehead and into his eyes. He reached down and followed the stockings up her thighs, then skipped to the long straps of the garter belt. Her stomach quivered as he touched it. He transferred his hands to the fullness of her breasts, wishing they were in the open as he used them for support as he lowered his body onto hers.
Margo quivered as they met and raised toward him, beginning her movements slowly, even before he was set. "That's lovely," she sighed.
"Not yet," Conway, painted.
She looked up into his face. "Soon," she smiled. "I love it." She pulled at his buttocks, urging him.
Conway needed no help. He felt the warmth of the woman now, and his head spun. He lunged his hips at her, and she responded. He lost control and pounded her against the bed, listening to her cries of encouragement, feeling her legs, crossed around him, trying to pull his body closer.
Margo's face was wild with want as she held Conway. There was a fire within her, and she loved every moment of it, cursing that she couldn't ignite.
Conway felt himself rising to the peak. He tried to stall off, but it was useless. He'd been without too long. "Soon," he warned Margo.
"No, not yet," she protested. "I want more. I want more. I want to go with you. I'm not ready." She anxiously pulled a strap of her bra from her shoulder and bared a breast. The pink tip was tremendous. "Take it," she ordered. "Bite it off."
It was all Conway needed. As his mouth closed over that softness he felt himself going. He released the breast and stared at Margo for the briefest of seconds.
She knew what was happening. Her hand pulled his head and lips to hers and she gasped as he rocked. "Oh, Lord," she cried out. "Finish me." Conway did just that.