Chapter 11

The Glendon Falls Library Circle was sponsoring a lecture by Brandon Donnely, one of the Midwest's most illustrious and best selling novelists. It was the intellectual event of the city's sterile season, and for that reason the lecture had been highly touted. Tickets had been pushed mercilessly for weeks.

When Diane had asked Ken if he was interested, he'd begged off, urging her to find one of her culture happy girl friends to stand in for him. Undoubtedly, with school wind-up and all, he'd be too busy, too tired, or both. This Diane had done, even going one step further.

"You look so tired, Ken," she'd chirped upon leaving for the program that Friday night at eight o'clock. "Why don't you finish up your work fast, call Dave Frazer, go out for a few drinks. It'll help relax you. Bring him back with you afterward. I'll make some coffee, some burgers or something."

"What about the kids?" he'd said, jumping on the proposal, not for one second suspicious. A spear of evil excitement had just jammed deep inside him.

"Call Barby from across the road. She's crazy to sit. Go ahead, enjoy yourself."

So caught up was Ken Baylor in his licentious projections that he didn't notice how feverish Diane's lips were when she kissed him good-bye nor how her hands trembled.

She was barely out of the house before Ken was on the phone, anxiously dialing Patti Conte's number. His heart sank as the phone rang ten times and nobody answered.

Dropping the receiver, he was amazed at his own stupidity. What if Patti's parents had answered? What alibi would he be able to summon up? And more important, even if Patti had been home, what could they have done? Diane had the car. Damn, talk about your cretins, he castigated himself.

But the lecher fires were not so easily put out now. And unsettled by thought of Patti, he wondered if Tessa were available. Tonight, for some strange reason, he had to have someone. After all Tessa lived only ten blocks away. He could walk over with no sweat at aH.

He picked up the phone again.

"Sure," Tessa said too gaily, a trifle too much mischief in her tone, "come on over, baby. We'll have a real swinger." A vengeful edge formed on her voice. "Though really I shouldn't let you. I waited up until late for you last night. I nearly died, I needed you so bad. Why didn't you come?"

"I couldn't get out," he said curtly. "We can talk about that later, when I get there. Tonight's okay, though?"

"Okay," she giggled. "Come ahead my lovely one."

Ken put down the receiver puzzledly. The music-had been so loud in the background, Tessa had sounded so coarse. Undoubtedly she was drinking. He shrugged. What's the difference. That'll make her that much more amenable to various innovations. And tonight, for some damned reason, I need innovation. like real bad.

Then the phone was in his hand again. He was calling Barby. The money-hungry baby sitter.

This was really going to be a swingeroo, Baylor marveled as Tessa Vareese admitted him to her apartment dressed in only a sheer black brassiere and panties. A night to end all nights.

And after all, he concluded as Tessa pushed him against the door, poured a torrid, man-eating kiss at him, let her hands slide impatiently up and down his back, wouldn't the change of pace do him good? After Patti's ingenuous lovemaking, wouldn't that be great, to swing with an out-and-out pro again?

He answered the kiss greedily, let his hands catch her silk bound buttocks, rammed her body tight to his.

He took the murky gloom of Tessa's apartment for granted, accepted this as preparation for his coming. The music, Ravel's Daphnis and Chloe, he recognized was overly loud, not like Tessa usually liked music at all. All the lights were extinguished, the room's only illumination provided by a bank of flickering, colored candles on the fireplace mantle. Ken's eyes were not yet accustomed to the gloom.

"You naughty boy," Tessa was leaning, her kisses sloppy, "why did you keep me waiting last night? I had something awfully good for you."

It was then that Ken recognized the taste. Martinis. Undoubtedly Tessa had been stoking up for an hour at least. His sense of evil was piqued even further. She smiled as he thought On with the orgy!

"Ken?" Tessa's voice turned wheedling. "You won't be angry will you?"

"Angry? What about?"

Her eyes slitted, her mouth became a scarlet, teasing slash. "If I have a little surprise for you?"

"Surprise? What kind of surprise?"

Then suddenly, from the deepest shadow, a male guffaw split the darkness. Baylor whirled as though someone had whipped his top string.

Saw Dave Frazer, bulky and large, wearing only his trousers and shirt, his tie and jacket already discarded. A very drunk and staggering Dave Frazer. "Hey, you...." he laughed, his eyes devilishly smug, "did you think you could keep this little thing a secret all your life?"

"Dave," Ken gaped. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you, buddy," the man leered, coming closer, clapping a huge paw on Ken's shoulder, "you weren't going to be able to satisfy a doll like Tessa here all by yourself for long." Frazer's breath would have ignited had he been near one of the candles. "I told you I'd get the little lady's britches off one of these days...."

Tessa's expression changed, became cruel. "That'll do, Dave. You talk like some kind of animal. Cut that out!"

"You din' mind my crude talk a minute ago," he said. "Before the big flame here called up. We had a nice little party going ... I tol' you I din' like the idea."

"Shut up! Before I slap your drunken face."

"Hell," Ken said, his anger turning into a smoldering thing, "I don't mean to break in on anybody's party. If you don't mind, I'll cut out now. Leave you to enjoy yourselves."

"Don't you dare," Tessa smiled temptingly, clutching Ken's arm. "'We can all have a party together." She swayed, caught Dave's shoulder for support. She was loaded. "That is, if you boys don't mind sharing. I'm quite sure there's more than enough to go around."

"This isn't my cup of tea," Ken snapped. "Let big Dave there share. He digs things that way."

"So I hear," Tessa simpered. "That's why I told you to come ahead when you called. Dave's been telling me all about some of his little parties. I kind a thought we could have one of those our ... selves." She tried to kiss Ken, giggling thickly. "C'mon now, honey. Be a sport.

Please?"

"No. I'd best take off, leave you to your own fun and games."

"Please, Ken," her words were more command than request. "At least have a drink with us. Who knows, you might warm to the idea. Dig the bacchanal bit the most." She took three steps back, posed wantonly before both of the men, swayed her hips. Then her long, tapering fingers teasingly rolled down the top of her panties, made them into a modified Bikini.

"By damn man," Frazer blurted. "You sick or something? Can you honestly turn your back on prime stuff like that?"

The truth of the matter was that Baylor, the promise of saturnalia becoming more intriguing by the moment, couldn't check out now. An exotic yearning had exploded inside him. He knew if he went home now he'd have to drink himself silly to calm down certain prowling, snarling inner tigers. Perhaps even lock himself in the bathroom.

"Please, Ken," Tessa returned, flung herself upon him, invited him to caress her again, "one little drink? I think we've got gallons of martinis mixed. Dave brought a bottle of gin; he's a madman when he starts mixing."

Then, reluctantly but not reluctantly, Ken was allowing himself to be drawn into the Grand Guignol of lust, the idea of group sex becoming more interesting by the moment. Until he was determined: This was an experience every growing boy should have at least once in his life.

They collapsed on Tessa's davenport, both Tessa and Dave taking up their glasses, Tessa hurrying to give Ken a martini. There, talking in desultory fashion, Tessa saw that Ken got the cocktail down fast, pressed a second on him. Her eyes were big and round, her expression feral as Ken had never seen her before.

Then she was undoing Ken's necktie, ignoring his token protests, she was coaxing him out of his jacket.

Step number one.

Lying between both men, her semi-naked body an eternal taunt, as wicked a bundle of curves as any man could desire, she was the embodiment of all the wantons and Jezebels the world has ever known.

She knew what she was doing to both men. And also she knew she'd never felt better. A feverish bubbling commenced within her. If she could just get Ken drunk enough. To think for the first time in her life she'd get enough. She'd keep them working in shifts ... she'd keep them working all night. Until.. .

And she smiled blissfully, the thoughts too beautiful, too happy to endure.

The gin burned a fiery trail down Ken's esophagus, lit fires in every side passage, stoked a regular Dante's inferno deep in his body. And he knew that he wasn't going to take off before the main show. That he was going to be there, grabbing with both hands.

And, brother, didn't he feel good now?

Much credit was due to Dave Frazer. Drunk as he was, he knew the score he knew that he was actually the interloper. Ken Baylor's number one with Tessa, he thought. Though God knows what the scrawny creep's got. So what? This won't be the first time I've had scraps. Nor the last.

This was proved moments later when Dave tried to take up where he'd left off at Ken's interruption, tried to clutch and caress Tessa's maddening breasts once more. Gently but firmly, saying nothing, Tessa removed his hands and put them down on the couch cushions.

Frazer didn't take offense. Just wait, sweetie, he mused, until later. When I unveil. Then we'll see who's the main stud around here. And, the gin definitively toppling reason, he indulged himself in a particularly ugly fantasy wherein Tessa was crawling naked before bin, pleading and begging him ... But he was stubborn and contemptuous. Only when she performed a debasing act with him would he relent. He shook as he imagined how that would be.

The martinis kept coming and coming. Tessa held back somewhat, kept an eye on Dave, held his consumption down also. There was nothing worse than a man who was too drunk to love, she mused. But Ken. That was another matter. He had a lot of catching up to do. One more drink and the festivities could begin.

She rose, went to change the records, sublimely conscious of the fact that both men's eyes were drilling into her tumbling, waggling buttocks as she swayed across the room. The knowledge made her simmer more wildly. She gave them extra fillip, exaggerated her walk. Wowee, she thought, but I feel good. Those poor guys. I'll never get enough tonight.

"Hey," Frazer grumped when he heard the initial strains of the Debussy, "why don't you put in something lively? Who wants to hear that draggy stuff? Get some jazz on there, will you?"

"Who turned you on?" Tessa rasped cuttingly. "I happen to like this draggy stuff. And since you don't know anything about music, why don't you just shut up?"

"Cut that out, you two," Ken intervened, feeling delightfully woozy, the desire overpowering now. "Quit your squabbling. This's a party, remember? We don't want to spoil things before we even get started."

Frazer grumbled something unintelligible. Tessa giggled and sighed happily. Kenny's getting with us.

Again they huddled on the davenport, Tessa smiling with joy when Ken's hand crept upon her, began tracing slow circles on the gossamer nylon.

"My turn?" Frazer murmured on the other side.

Lust and liquor drugged as she was, Tessa could see no reason why not. "Help yourself, baby," she purred.

There was, seemingly no resentment between the two men. Each had his own territory, and each stuck circumspectly to that territory. This went on and on. Became an Elysian limbo of sensation for each and every one of them

Frazer began to tell jokes. The loudness of their squealing, gasping laughter was sure indication of the extent of their intoxication, showed the irrevocable way things must go from here on.

Finally, "Knock that off," Tessa protested, falling back between the two men. "We aren't here to tell jokes. C'mon, you guys, when y' gonna join the party? Get undressed."

This seemed like a wonderful idea, and with scant embarrassment at all. Ken and Dave rose, began getting out of their clothes. Moments later they were back on the davenport, making no attempt to conceal themselves, the teasing display making Tessa's eyes bulge, causing her face to distort in a variety of expressions all licentious. Then she stood before them, arched her body, clasped her hands behind her head, brought her breasts to full, provocative thrust. "How about me now, you two? Any volunteers?"

Immediately they were both up, Frazer trying to get at Tessa's panties, Ken beating him out. So, while Ken worked the gauzy garment down her legs, dallied outrageously on the way, Dave was undoing her brassiere, his hands coming around, forming a living bandeau the second the nylon dropped on Tessa's fingertips.

They bore her back toward" the davenport.

Tessa, well polluted now, allowed them to take their way with her, let them play any way they wanted. Until she boldly drew both their heads down to her bosom, guided each to a yearning nipple.

She found diversion of her own as they labored over her, sending her hands on foray of their own. Until she was paganly torturing, an attention which triggered further delirium for the men.

How gorgeous, she raged inwardly, how gorgeous! To have two pairs of lips adoring you, to have two sets of hands, twenty happy fingers ... Damn, damn, I can't stand this.

A moment later her appreciation became very vocal. "Oh, you devils!" she throbbed. "That's good, so good. I feel like a volcano on the verge of erupting. Don't stop. Not for a minute. That's the greatest, the absolute greatest. Oooh, you dirty devils, you magnificent devils."

Then her hands became devils of their own.

Barely two minutes later they were gathered in the bedroom, the sick scene illuminated by a sputtering red bowled candle someone'd had presence of mind enough to bring along. The men beside her, kissing and nipping, caressing and patting, each trying to win the privilege of being first.

But that was a foregone conclusion. And Frazer had sophistication enough to accept the verdict with proper grace. Ken Baylor would, of course, have priority. He shrugged, gave in before the inevitable.

"You, Ken," she hissed. "You first. Oooh, hurry. I need you so bad. I'm actually burning. C'mon, your gorgeous man."

Her eyes were smoky, her arms twitched wildly. "You devils," she breathed lovingly.

Ken felt no shame at all to have Frazer sitting on the edge of the bed, watching with scheming eyes. He sucked in his breath thickly as Tessa's hands found him, sadistically guided him.

Tessa squealed thickly, began using the gutter words immediately, her hands spurring him to action at once. "Go, damn you, gol Show me what kind of lover you are!"

And Ken did. The liquor, the primitive lead-up all contributed to the snowballing passion he felt. This was a lowdown, dirty, payan burning. A pain he wanted never to go away. But still...

Until midway, Dave joined in the trio, began encouraging both of them in matching argot, incited them to more excruciating delight and joy. Tessa, seizing on the moment, offered her breasts totally. Instantly Dave complied, his hands squeezing. He manipulated her unmercifully.

And Tessa screamed, driven out of her mind by the scalding rapture that was building for her. "Love me, damn you! Both of you. Love me, love Tessa. Love her to a charcoal crisp. Love Tessa!"

And the argot creed began again.

Afterward, when Ken had flung his own symbolic cursed to the gloom, the full extent of Tessa's nympho-sexuality was revealed. When Dave was readying himself, she told Ken to blow out all the candles. Here and in the living room also.

Returning, groping through the darkness, he came to the bed, heard the choking gasps and cries of both the love partners. "Dave," she seethed in libertine trance, "You're a good one. A wonder. One Of the best I've ever known." Her voice cracked ridiculously. "Go, go."

Then Ken sensed her hands groping for him in the darkness. Then she was clutching, dragging him on the bed. "I want both of you," she giggled viciously. "Like before. I wanna have two at a time."

Ken couldn't help but know what she meant, what she intended. He'd suffered this attention before. Still he was appalled, drunk as he was. With Dave, both oj us?

Her hands were cruel. He couldn't resist her. Besides the attraction was too fatal. But...

He rebelled a last time. But she cursed, tore at him cruelly. Then she wasn't sadistic any more. She was sweet and kind.

Frazer was almost choking on his laughter. "Damn, this beats all. This sure beats all. Do I get some of that, too?"

"Sure," Tessa laughed. "If you ever get done. If you can take that. Oh, Ken, you baby..."

Then she was incapacitated, struck dumb. Ken and Dave were doing nobly. Very nobly indeed.

The debauch was only beginning.

Outside, huddling in the air, Diana Baylor was trembling nonstop, unable to figure a way out of this mess. The street outside the apartment building was dark, and nobody would see her hunched over behind the steering wheel as the tears of betrayal and vengeful anger streamed down her face.

I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have come, she wailed. Why did I? Why did I force myself to this final humiliation? But you had to know, didn't you? You had to be sure. Damn you, are you satisfied now?

She clung to the wheel for support. And swiftly, sickeningly, the evening's chain of events reeled through her brain.

The plan to have Ken think she was going to the Donnelly lecture, the way she'd waited down the block, watching for Ken to emerge from the house, hoping against hope that he wouldn't, that her vigil would be fruitless, totally inconclusive. The way she'd followed him when he had come out, the way she'd waited outside the apartment building so long before gathering up courage enough to enter the foyer.

Her heart constricted as she recalled her shock at reading MISS TESSA VAREESE on the building register, recognizing the name instantly, the evil connection all but jumping at her.

And now she bobbed her head savagely what, what? What will I do?

A crazy, desperate fury burned away the fog of Indecision, clawed misery and self-pity out of the way. There was only one thing she wanted now. Revenge, sweet revenge. And she wouldn't get that by bursting into the Vareese apartment, confronting Ken and his trollop. She'd get that by perverting herself, becoming a common tramp.

Her mind seared, reason gone, she thought of a victim. She could always go to a downtown bar, let herself be picked up, take her chances. But no. She remembered a perfect accomplice in this crime of vengeance.

Cory Shelby. He was a natural! Didn't he paw me something awful at the Dennisons' party last month? Didn't he make an unmistakable pitch, all but beg me to set a time and place? Just remembering the incident almost turned Diane's stomach. He was perfect; she'd love to avenge her humiliation with a foul-minded specimen like Shelby.

Now was the time. He could set the place.

Better still she knew Mrs. Shelby was at the lecture. She was one of the women Diane was supposed to go with. Cory was home alone, a perfect pigeon.

Her determination a monstrous thing, her heart hammering insanely, she drove away from the curb to find a streetside telephone booth.

Won't Cory be surprised, she thought, her smile becoming a death's head. Won't I love throwing this m Ken's face when we have our showdown!