Chapter 3
Jennifer Post felt happier and more at peace than she had ever felt in her life as she walked slowly across a dark, deserted Washington Square Park hand in hand with Robert Clark. A light winter mist was falling, but they were both New Yorkers, born and bred, and Jennifer knew that Robert was enjoying the cool feathery touch of the mist on his face as much as she was. She tossed back her glistening soft brown hair and glanced adoringly up at his handsome Clark Kent-type profile with its high-bridged aristocratic nose. By the light of a distant street lamp she saw that there was a faint smile on his thin sensitive lips.
They really shared so many things in common, she mused contentedly. They had the same tastes in theater and music, the same love of the tranquil secluded life to be found only in Greenwich Village and above all, the same sensible controlled attitude toward sex. Robert, who was not only her fiance, but her chief editor at the magazine where she worked as a junior photographer in the theater personalities section, understood her completely in that domain. Early in their relationship she had told him about the really stupid, meaningless way she had lost her virginity ... in the back room of a fraternity house after a graduation celebration from college. Since she was so drunk when it had happened, that time, she had always considered herself a technical, if not a physical, virgin ... and he had sympathized wholeheartedly with the feeling of repugnance for sex that the drunken incident had left her with.
That feeling would pass with time, he had assured her. Meanwhile, there were other aspects of love to be explored. The union of two minds joined in perfect understanding was far more important than the mere sexual coupling of two bodies. It was in this direction that he had delicately guided her, away from the physical side of love and into the realms of theater and music. Sex between them had been limited to an innocent peck or two which she had firmly stopped whenever he had seemed to be getting too close to her pussy or breasts. He had never once complained and she was deeply grateful to him. They were to be married someday in the undetermined future and she was certain that by then she would be ready to be a proper sexually prepared wife to him.
"The only trouble with that play," her fiance said abruptly, "is that it was too obscure in its meaning and totally without proper direction. The director obviously subscribes to Arthur Miller's 'deep-message school' but it seems to me there are better ways of putting a point across to the audience without having them groaning all night."
He was referring to the new play by Jacob Hans they had just seen and Jennifer knew that he had been thinking about it ever since they had left the theater. What he had just expressed in his clipped, rather nasal upper New York State accent was his final considered opinion and it summed up very exactly and concisely her own, more emotional reaction to those aspects of the play. She squeezed his hand gratefully to let him know how much she agreed with him and how perceptive he was.
"Coming over for a drink?" he asked, smiling thinly down at her.
"Of course!" Jennifer exclaimed, thinking it strange that he should ask her that when she had to get up so early in the morning. But it would be their last night together for several weeks. She was leaving the next day for her first major photographic job for the magazine. It was one that she had arranged herself as a personal "coup," and it had caused much envy and jealousy among her cohorts. She looked around then, and saw only a few solitary lights still blazing here and there in the dark silent, apartment building. It was late and she had agreed to go to his apartment in order to have this one last drink with Robert. She squeezed his hand again and looked questioningly up at his pale smiling face. "Just a quick one."
"I dunno. Just might keep you there in bondage for a whole month and not let you go!" he drawled laconically.
"Liar!" Jennifer laughed gaily up at him, realizing that he was teasing her. She linked her arm through his and began to pull him more rapidly along the wet gravel walk toward the two-story brownstone on the edge of the park where he lived with Rod Garrett, another editor at the magazine. Jennifer was sure all her friends from her own apartment thought she was sleeping with Robert when she visited him in his house, but she had never tried to set them straight because she knew they just wouldn't understand the true nature of the relationship.
"Really, Jennifer," Robert protested a trifle irritably. "There's no hurry. Actually, we've got all night!"
"Not me," she answered, puzzled but not concerned by his statement.
They ran up the stairs to the porch of the old brownstone where he lived just as the snow began to pelt down in earnest. The streets and sidewalks were covered now.
"A real snowstorm, no less," Robert murmured as he unlocked the front door and led the way toward the living room, flicking on lights. He took her heavy coat and hung it in the hall along with his own. "At this point I should suggest that you spend the night."
"Oh, you know I have to be back in time to get packed tonight for my trip tomorrow," Jennifer reminded him. She entered the comfortably furnished living room, looking around to see if she could spot the reference book on films she had asked him to get for her.
"No, you don't have to be there tomorrow," Robert corrected her curtly. "You've got your vacation tacked on to this assignment, too. You can do as you please."
"But I've still got that appointment with Carlyle Henderson and must be there by tomorrow to meet him. Besides I still live in that apartment," the young woman objected, a little startled by the sharpness of his manner.
'Your clothes are there," he conceded. "But nothing says you have to be there with them. What's the matter? Don't you trust me?" He swung around to face her with a challenging, almost angry expression on his long, pale face.
"Of course, I trust you, Robert," Jennifer reproached him in a hurt tone of voice. "It's just that I know I have to be back in time to pack things ... Now where's that drink of mine?" she asked with a wheedling smile.
"Oh, yes, the drink." Frowning, the tall young man strode out of the room down the hall toward the kitchen.
Jennifer crossed to the mirror over the fireplace mantel and began to fluff the snow flakes from her soft auburn hair. She gave the impression of being just another pretty girl until one noticed her eyes. They were remarkably large and clear, of a brilliant iridescent blue which seemed to change shade with the slightest variation of light, ranging from luminous cobalt to a dark mysterious mauve.
Those extraordinarily beautiful eyes brought out the perfect symmetry of her heart-shaped face. The forehead was broad and the cheekbones wide-set but the cheeks themselves narrowed sharply in piquant curves to a small firm chin. Her nose was straight and slender, with just the slightest suggestion of an upward tilt at the end, and her lips, when she was relaxed, were full and ripe, almost pouting. When unobserved, she moved with the lithe, controlled grace of a highly trained Olympic figure skater, which in fact, she was. She had been skating since she was six years old and at the age of seven had been accepted as a pupil by Regina Insman, a 1950's Olympic gold medal winner for Sweden. But after several years she decided she preferred a more normal life than the disciplined regimen of figure skating in competition. She had continued to skate for her own pleasure, but the long hours of physical discipline showed in every unconscious movement she made. Her walk was an unpracticed study in sensuality that few other women possessed.
"I'm afraid we're all out of wine," Robert announced as he strode back into the room. "I didn't want to buy another bottle just before leaving, so we'll just have to drink up Rod's scotch. He left this morning on an assignment in Mexico, by the way." He darted a sharp glance at Jennifer, who was watching him with a puzzled expression on her face. "He said he hoped you had a wonderful trip and asked me to give you his love."
"Really?" Jennifer replied absent-mindedly. "That was nice." She watched her fiance pour two large shots of whiskey into the glasses and wondered what had suddenly gotten into him. He knew perfectly well that she never drank anything but a little wine ... not since that awful night she had gotten her cherry fucked away in that fraternity house. She was certain the boys had spiked the punch with something hard, otherwise ... anyway she'd been drunk when she was practically raped in a back room of the house and had sworn never to touch alcohol again except in very moderate amounts.
"Yes," Robert went on blandly. "I do believe my dear friend, Rod, has a secret crush on you."
"Oh, Robert!" Jennifer exclaimed as the light finally dawned on her. "I hardly know Rod. I've never even spoken to him when you weren't there. You're not jealous, are you?"
"No." The tall young editor sighed. "But I'm human. Here," he ordered, holding out one of the glasses to her. "Sit down and drink this. I mean it!"
Not wishing to offend him further until she found out what it was all about, Jennifer took the glass and sipped timidly from it. The taste and odor of the alcohol immediately made her feel nauseous but Robert gulped down his drink and quickly poured himself another before coming over to sit down on the couch beside her. There was a film of sweat on his high pale forehead.
"Jennifer," he said in a controlled tone of voice as if he was starting a lecture in one of his classes. "I've been patient with you, haven't I?"
"Of course, Robert. You've been wonderful," the young girl assured him warmly.
"I've known you for a full year now ... and I've never once hurried you or tried to make you do anything you didn't want to. Have I?"
"No." Jennifer responded like a good employee being lectured by the boss.
"Well...." Robert looked piercingly at her with his pale hazel eyes. "The time has come." He deepened his voice and let the last words hang portentously in the air.
"For what?" Jennifer asked hesitantly, thinking that perhaps he was going to ask her to marry him now instead of waiting as they had planned.
"For you to sleep with me, dammit!" He jumped up and started to pace nervously back and forth in front of her, darting quick angry looks at her from under his sandy brows.
"But, Robert, I-I just can't!" Jennifer Wailed when the shock of what he had said wore off. It was the last thing in the world she had expected to hear. "I just caaaannnn't!"
"Why not!" her fiance snapped. Abruptly he reached down and tightly circled her slender wrist with his long fingers. "Come on, Jennifer!" he ordered in a compelling voice. "This farce has gone on long enough. We're going to the bedroom. It's for your own good, believe me!"
Jennifer was so accustomed to trusting and obeying him that she let herself be pulled out into the hall and up the stairs to his bedroom before she really knew what was happening. The tall young man snapped on the bedside light and looked at her with a triumphant expression from behind his thick horned-rimmed glasses.
"All right," he said confidently. "Now undress me."
"Wh-wha-at!" the young girl stammered, looking dazedly around the rather small, simply furnished bedroom where she had never even been before. Everything was so neat, she noted ... His hairbrush and comb, shaving things, and a few toilet articles were arranged on the dresser with a kind of mathematical precision that was completely different from the colorful helter-skelter disorder that usually prevailed in her own room. She wondered if she could ever learn to keep house for him the way he would want it to be kept.
"I said, undress me," Robert repeated calmly. "It's high time you got over your abnormal fear of the male body and this is the best way to start. I know I haven't got the greatest physique in the world," he added smugly, "But everything functions adequately. You may rest assured on that point."
He slipped out of his Harris tweed sport jacket and pulled off his tie. "Now you do the rest," he directed her. "Start with the shoes. After all if we're going to get married, it's better that you see what you're getting."
"But I've already seen you, Robert!" Jennifer protested tearfully. "In a bathing suit!"
"You haven't seen all of me," he remarked pointedly.
"Oh, Robert!" she wailed despairingly. "I thought you understood!"
"I understand one thing quite clearly," the tall man lectured her sternly. "If something causes you pain, you naturally fear it. But if something gives you pleasure, you like it. Your single experience back in college with the male sexual organ caused you both pain and shame. Tonight," he summed up complacently, 'I'm going to give you pleasure and you'll see how quickly your attitude will change. Now take off my shoes."
Jennifer wanted to turn and run out of his house. She wanted the innocent warmth of her own untidy room across the park, but instead she obediently knelt and began to fumble with the laces of her fiance's shoes. Robert had always been right in his judgments on the theater and music and things like that, she reasoned to herself, so maybe he was right about this too. She certainly felt strange, kneeling at his feet like a slave. A weird, unnatural excitement gripped her sensuous young tits beneath her bra as she pulled off his shoes and looked up the whole length of his body at his gaunt face. There was an expression in his eyes she had never seen before. Gloating ... almost sadistic
"Now the pants," he ordered hoarsely.
Still on her knees, Jennifer straightened up and with trembling hands unbuckled his belt which was on the same level as her eyes. A lurid thrill raced up and down her spine as she undid the top button of his pants, then reached for his zipper. When she had pulled it halfway down, the pants fell to the floor, puddling around his thin legs, and she was staring at the huge bulge in his shorts a few inches from her nose. Her nostrils quivered and dilated sharply as she caught her first whiff of an aroused male cock through the tightly stretched cloth. She looked beseechingly up at her fiance but there was no sign of relenting on his stern face.
"Take 'em off!" he grunted coarsely.
God, he'd turned into a completely different person, Jennifer thought miserably to herself. Nothing remained of the gentle, understanding Robert she had known and admired for a whole year. Still, she had to trust him ... Revulsion, mixed with some other unfamiliar sensation, stirred deep in the pit of her stomach as she slipped the fingers of both hands under the elastic band of the shorts and very slowly, very reluctantly, pulled down....
"Ohhhh!" She jerked awkwardly back as his long sinewy cock jerked out toward her face with the speed of a striking snake. It twitched spasmodically as if it regretted not having caught her and the thin little vertical eye in the dark red, bulbous tip glittered with a slight drop of moisture seeping from it. It was still growing, she saw uneasily, stretching out to her in a hardening arc with the thin, cape-like skin slipping back of its own accord as the mushrooming tip continued to expand right before her dazed eyes. It was the first time she had actually ever seen an erect male cock because the time in the back of the fraternity house there had just been a lot of nervous fumbling in the dark, then sudden searing pain up between her thighs as the guy fucked into her, and afterwards shame and remorse. Tears welled up into her large blue eyes at the memory of that awful night, and the cunt-splitting fuck she had received returned unbidden to her.
"What are you crying about, for godsake?" Robert asked her in an exasperated tone of voice. "There's nothing to cry about. It's just an ordinary cock, like a million others."
"I was th ... thinking of that other time," the young girl sobbed brokenly.
"Well, don't think about that other time," her fiance ordered her impatiently. "Think about this time. It won't be a sordid, animalistic rape in the back of a frat house but a nice civilized fuck in bed!"
Jennifer shivered as he deliberately emphasized the obscene word and in spite of herself she felt a responding flash of lewd excitement ripple up through her pussy below. She stared wonderingly up at him. He'd never used words like "fuck" in her presence before and somehow she'd never dreamed he would. This was a completely new side to him which she'd never suspected. Her gaze dropped back to his long rigid cock which was now ramrod stiff, jutting out from its growth of sandy pubic hairs like a blunted lance. God, it looked so long! She was sure it would make her bleed again, just as if she were still a virgin, when he fucked it into her cunt.
"Go ahead, touch it," Robert insisted. "It won't bite." He reached down and caught her hand before she could pull away, placing it tenderly on the warmly throbbing shaft. Jennifer felt a galvanic shock jolt through every nerve end in her body at the first contact with his heavily pulsing cock. He moved her hand up and down its turgid length and she could feel the ridges of muscle and swollen veins sliding smoothly beneath the silky skin. A strange dizzying sense of power stole over her and she tightened her grip on the lust-hardened rod of flesh. She was teasing the sharp tips of her fingernails into the softer under side and stroking the loose foreskin all the way up until it completely covered the bulging cone-like head. Then she slipped it down again to the thickly pulsating base buried in his wiry pubic hairs. When she accelerated the rhythmic movement of her hand up and down his feverishly throbbing member, her fiance groaned through gritted teeth and pulled away.
"Okay," he panted in a hoarse voice. "Let's get our clothes off and fuck." He kicked away his pants and shorts, hastily unbuttoned his shirt and in no time towered nakedly above her, his thin hairless chest heaving rapidly as he stared greedily down at her. He reached down and drew her up to him, grinding his thin lips down against her fuller, softer ones, spearing his long pointed tongue deep into the cavern of her mouth while with one hand he jerked impatiently at the zipper on the side of her skirt.
God, he's going to jam it and break it, Jennifer thought distractedly to herself. It seemed hard to believe that the man now swirling his tongue passionately around hers was the same composed urbane individual who could talk so wittily on the forms of Shakespearian theater in the 1500's or other equally obscure subjects. He gave a little moan as she finally let him suck her own tongue up into his mouth ... as if she had made him a present of something sacred ... and she could feel his long rock-hard cock burning into the soft flesh of her belly through the fabric of her skirt. Finally she managed to disconnect her mouth from his and draw back.
"Here. Let me do it," she said, pushing his hand away from the zipper. With an outward show of calm she shed her skirt and blouse but as she stood in front of him naked except for bra and panties, she was trembling like a leaf inside. She hoped and prayed she could go through with him fucking her, and not disappoint him, but he was like a complete stranger to her now. The taste of scotch in his mouth had almost completely killed the beginnings of erotic excitement she had felt when she held his cock in her hand.
"Come on!" he urged her huskily, avidly drinking in her huge young tits. She had an ideal figure skating body ... a long, slender neck and graceful arms, huge firm tits and long narrow waist which flowered into shapely hips and beautifully rounded, tapering thighs. She looked at him as if she were poised to figure skate like Dorothy Hamil, just waiting for the music to begin.
"Come on, let's get on the bed," he repeated, circling her silky-skinned waist with one arm and leading her to the bed. Impetuously, he ripped off all the top covers and laid her on the sheet which she could tell had just come from the laundry. She wondered vaguely how long he had been planning this little seduction scene and again the idea that he could occupy his fine intelligence with such basically unimportant matters as sex amazed her.
Abruptly, she decided that the best thing to do would be to get this disagreeable business of getting fucked over with as soon as possible. She wanted to have time to discuss the photographs she should take of Carlyle Henderson before she had to go back to her apartment. He knew so much more than she did about magazine layouts and things. Quickly she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, revealing the huge melons of her exquisitely molded young tits with their coral-tinted coronas and nipples contrasting alluringly with her creamy white skin.
Robert gave another moan of delight and sprawled headlong on top of her, sucking frantically at her nearest heavily throbbing tit, pulling and nipping at it with the sharp edges of his teeth. After a moment one of his large bony hands cupped her other tit and began to roll the wrinkled little nipple back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it gently from time to time. His long hard cock was throbbing hotly against her thigh now and she could feel a sticky wetness oozing from the end of it down between her legs. She realized it must be the lubricating fluid men produced to ease their entry into the vaginas of the women they fucked.
In spite of her expectations Jennifer again felt a feathery flutter of sensation deep in her cunt hole as if a tiny bird was trapped somewhere inside her and she could feel the soft beating of its satiny wings as it tried to take flight all around up inside her pussy.
Fly, little bird, she commanded mentally. Fly away with me! She was beginning to believe it was possible to really enjoy getting fucked when her fiance raised his head from her breast and gloated down at her.
"You see!" he exclaimed as if he were congratulating her on turning in an excellent photographic assignment. "You're enjoying it. The nipples of your breast are hard. That's an unmistakable sign. You are enjoying it, aren't you, Jennifer?"
The young girl nodded silently up at him.
The reek of alcohol on his breath immediately snuffed out the life of the little bird fluttering in the well of her cunt below and she stared dully up at the ceiling as her fiance stripped off her tiny, diaphanous panties. Now we go on to step number two of lesson number one, she mused drearily to herself. She made no effort to resist when her fiance spread her slim, smoothly tapered legs ... Then she felt him parting the soft curls of her light brown pussy hairs and could literally feel his eyes swarming greedily up and down the moistly glistening pink flesh of her thin little cunt split. She had all she could do to keep from heaving an audible sigh. Robert was thirty-four years old, twelve years older than she, but he was behaving like an adolescent boy who had just read a sex manual. One moment he was impulsive and overexcited and the next he apparently remembered something he had read and decided to do it.
She felt the end of his bony middle finger slide in between the sparsely -haired lips of her nakedly spread cunt and begin to mechanically tweak the withered little bud of her clitoris. The alien contact sent a brief flurry of sparks through her pussy again but her immediate thought was that she could do it a lot better by fingerfucking herself.
"Do you like that?" he asked, grinning complacently down at her as if he were rendering her the greatest service in the world.
"Hmmmmmm," Jennifer lied, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't have to meet his knowing stare. His extended finger slipped involuntarily into her tightly contracted cunt hole, then returned to circling and awkwardly rubbing her clitoris.
"A little more fingering and you'll be ready to fuck," he said judiciously. He placed his hand around the rigidly throbbing base of his cock again, indicating that he wanted her to jack it off. How idiotic, Jennifer thought, the two of us lying here, artificially stimulating each other, masturbating each other ... This certainly couldn't be the way to prepare for the act of fucking, if that was what it really was. She began to jack the soft skin up and down the rock-hard shaft of his cock more rapidly, giving the lust-swollen head a little jerk and squeezing at the end of each upward stroke. Almost at once she felt his pelvis grinding hard to meet the downstroke so that her hand smacked audibly against the flesh beneath his cock hairs before pumping upward again. All of a sudden he was scrambling wildly on top of her, prodding furiously at her tightly clenched little pussy hole with the head of his wildly straining cock.
"Christ, I can't wait any longer!" he gasped. "I gotta fuck you now. Put it in your cunt, for Chrissake."
His alcoholic breath, the unexpectedly crude fuck words and the mercilessly selfish battering of her naked little pussy by a lunging, rock-hard, swollen cock abruptly propelled Jennifer a year and a half backward in time. She was in the back room of the fraternity house again, with a boy whose name she didn't even know, and he was crazily fucking his stiffened penis into the wet pink slit of her cunt, babbling "I gotta fuck ya, I gotta fuck ya," over and over.
But this time it wasn't going to happen.
Her lithe, strong ice skater's legs scissored shut and Robert's hungrily jabbing cock slid harmlessly up through her softly tangled pussy hairs onto her naked belly.
"Noooo!" she shouted fiercely as he tried to squirm the frustrated hard-on back down between her tightly clenched thighs, fighting like a madman to reach the mouth of the juicy pink little hole up between her lithe young legs that she was denying him. She reached up and grabbed hold of his hair, trying to pull his tightly locked lips from her nipple, but he merely clung harder to her and continued to fuck his rigidly burning cock into the naked flesh of her belly as if it were her openly spread cunt.
"Ohhhhhh, Chriiiiist!" the lust-crazed man groaned suddenly and Jennifer felt his frantically jerking cock expand still farther and a slippery jet of his cum spurted up between their sweating bodies, drenching her stomach, splattering against the bottom of her huge young tits, and trickling down her sides. His lanky frame collapsed on top of her for a moment as his chest continued to heave with gasps of spent passion. Then he pushed himself up off of her and glared down into her stricken face with angry bloodshot eyes.
"You teasing little bitch!" he spat out viciously. "You'll never learn to fuck! You're useless as a woman, and that includes marrying too! Get out of here! I never want to see you again!"
Horrified at his words, Jennifer slipped on her clothes and, after a few futile attempts at reconciliation, left.
Jennifer walked slowly along the snow-covered sidewalk back toward her dark, silent apartment building. She had forgotten her coat and giant flakes of snow blown down from the limbs of trees by gusts of wind rapidly froze her to the bone but she didn't mind. She felt that she would never be clean again. Robert hadn't even let her wash off his hot sticky cum from her belly and tits before he made her get out of the house. She was certain she would never understand how he had been able to so completely mislead and deceive her about his true character for so long.
In a few minutes her whole future had been blown to smithereens. Instead of a happy, secure marriage based on mutual respect and common interests to look forward to, now she had just one more nightmare to live with. All the good times she had shared with Robert during the year of their close relationship, all the treasured memories, had been treacherously turned to filth. False! It had all been false and all he had wanted was to fuck her all along. The only truly decent thing she had gotten from him, she mused bitterly, was the slim, snow-damaged volume which she now held tightly clutched in her hand. He had hurled it after her in a paroxysm of rage as she went down his porch steps.
"What!" he had screamed at her when she asked him to give her the small book he had for background material on Carlyle Henderson's films. "You have the nerve to ask me for something after wasting my cum on your belly and tits! Okay! Take the fucking book! Why don't you try seducing him when you see the fucking Californian queer! Maybe he can heat up your frigid little cunt! I sure as hell can't!"
The fucking queer!
That was what Robert had called Carlyle Henderson, the great director whom he had pretended to admire and revere all these years. He had screamed it again as she hurried away down the street.
"Go see that fucking asshole director and tell him his films give me a pain in the ass!"
Oh Lord! How could he have said that? Jennifer dazedly asked herself. Sobbing broken-heartedly, she turned into the darkened entry of her apartment building and climbed the weary flights to "her lonesome apartment. She had barely the strength to drag herself into the shower and wash her cum-spattered belly and tits. Then she set the alarm for early in the morning and crawled into bed. Every bone in her body felt sore and bruised, but just before she drifted off into exhausted sleep she remembered how, even though he would never remember it, she had skated for Garlyle Henderson when she was seven years old. The great director had been auditioning children for a film he was about to shoot around the skating rink in Rockefeller Center and she had tried out for one of the parts. Of course she hadn't been chosen, but he had spoken with her when she had finished skating to the music of "Swan Lake" for him.
"My dear child," he had said in the deep resonant voice which still echoed in her heart. "You skate like an exquisite swan in the flight of the mind! But unfortunately you're just a little too young right now. Perhaps later."
She had been crushed, and not getting the part was probably why she had later given up on skating. But his words of praise had meant more to her than anything else in the world.
"Oh Carlyle," she murmured drowsily to herself. "I will soon see you again. I will, I will, I will!"
Immediately she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her soul and she saw herself in her mind's eye, a tiny, seven-year-old figure in a blue skating skirt, leaping, twirling, soaring, higher and higher under the admiring gaze of the great Carlyle Henderson as the cameras followed her joyful flashing figure across the ice....