Chapter 2

Fair and slender, Janet Boyington barely looked her twenty years, although the serious, thoughtful expression of her face in repose made her at times appear older. Regular, almost classic features, soulful, innocent-looking eyes, and a sensitive mouth, delicately chiseled, imparted a spiritual quality to her face. Today she appeared quite womanly, and with good reason. She had just returned from a most gratifying sexual experience, and was feeling contented as a fresh-fed kitten.

Her sexual knowledge and experience would have startled Matthew Thomas, who still believed in her innocence and purity. Had he known that her virginity did not exist, the old man would have been more enraged than he was at the moment of her arrival. And if he had been informed that it was the object of his wrath who had robbed her of her sex-treasure, he might possibly have killed his son. But nothing and none of this was known to him. He knew only that his son had married another girl rather than Janet, whom he had determined should be his daughter-in-law.

Of course she had not liked sex that first time; it had been quite painful, and she had been scared to death. But she had endured the pain of his youthful penetration with an almost primitive stoicism, refusing even to cry out as his anxious cock tore through her hymen and blasted-off in her bleeding cunt. She did not allow Fred to touch her for a long time afterwards, though she finally got around to letting him fuck her a second time about a second later. It did not hurt her the second time, but it left her unsatisfied; she felt it should have been better than it was somehow. She enjoyed his cock pumping rapidly inside her cunt, and she enjoyed it when he began to half-sob and half-moan as his youthful hot fluid spurted from him. She had squeezed him between her thighs and thrust her cunt up against him, churning her hips to receive his rod in her depths as far as possible. For a moment she felt as if she, too, were going to empty herself, but the action stopped and the moment passed; and there she was, high, her muscles quivering with excitement, and no way down. Fred had withdrawn almost immediately and flopped beside her, breathing deeply. Then he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and crawled out of bed. She watched silently as he dressed and left her, closing the door softly behind him.

To seek relief from the built-in tension that held her in its grip, Janet masturbated-a form of sexual gratification not entirely new to her. She gently teased her clitoris, slowly at first, and then faster and faster as the orgasm waved over her and tied her abdomen in knots. She writhed and contorted and lay trembling, relaxing at last, but still longing to feel a man's hard shaft pumping her vagina. Thereafter, for a long, long time, she did not allow Fred to screw her, preferring other and somewhat older men, who were sure to have experience. But she liked Fred-as a brother.

She had been an inmate in the Thomas home for so long that it was difficult to remember that she had known another. Only on rare occasions, when her adopted father alluded to the tragedy of her childhood, did Janet realize that she was not really of Thomas blood. Matthew Thomas and her father had been friends from boyhood. In 1918, when war broke out, both were drafted to the same regiment, which saw real fighting in France and Germany. After the war Matthew Thomas married and prospered. Boyington also made a venture in the matrimonial market, but with less success. His wife, after giving birth to a daughter, left him, to run away with another man; and Boyington, deserted, turned to alcohol for solace and comfort and died an embittered, miserable man. On his death-bed he sent for his friend Matthew Thomas, and he confided to him his little daughter. Matthew promised to raise her as his own child. That was how Janet Boyington became a member of the Thomas household.

She stood in the doorway of the library looking at her adopted father, and with the realization that he was having another quarrel with his son. He advanced toward-Janet and, taking her hand in his, patted it caressingly.

"Do you want me, dear?" he asked, no trace of anger discernible in his voice.

"I heard voices in here and thought it might be Fred and you," she said. "There's a man downstairs; he was just about to ring the bell when I arrived. He wouldn't give his name, dad, but he said he knew you were at home and insisted on seeing you."

Matthew frowned. Going quickly through the door, he said: "I'll see what he wants."

When the library doors had closed behind him, Fred and Janet were alone. She turned eagerly to Fred, anxiously asking:

"What's the matter?"

Fred shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, the usual thing. Nothing for you to worry your head about, Janet. The bastard's getting on my nerves, that's all. We can't agree, and never could-you know. So to hell with him! I'm going away-"

"Going away."

"Yes, going away."

"Why? What's happened?"

For a moment Fred made no answer. Finally he blurted out:

"He's furious because of my marriage to Eva, and he's about to make a new will leaving everything to you."

The young girl flushed and then turned pale. It made her happy that her future was assured, yet it pained her to think that another had been robbed of what she was to enjoy. Gently she said:

"I don't want what is rightly yours, Fred, and I shall tell your father so."

The youth shrugged his shoulders.

"It would do no good. Once he has made up his mind, all the forces this side of hell could not persuade him to change it"

"But surely matters are not so bad as that In time he'll forget and you'll both be friends again."

The young man shook his head. Bitterly, he replied: "No, Janet. This is the end. I'm going away, and I sincerely hope I shall never see him again. I'm sorry to leave you, of course, but Eva and I have our own lives to live. I cannot remain here and retain my self-respect. Even if he were willing to acknowledge my wife, it would make no difference in my opinion of him. I can never forget how he has treated me all these years. The very sight of him fills me with repulsion. I hate him! I detest him!"

"You must not talk that way. After all, he is your father. He-"

Fiercely the young man interrupted her:

"No, he's not I deny it It's impossible that such a man as that is responsible for my being. We haven't a single thought, a single impulse in common. I'm heartily ashamed of him, and always have been. Many a time I've wished he were dead. Sometimes I have felt like strangling him myself-"

The young girl raised her hand in quick protest.

"Freddy!"

He gave a hollow laugh.

"Oh, don't be afraid. I've no desire to go to the gas chamber yet."

The young girl was silent. Her mind was all confused by the news of this unexpected windfall. Much as she regretted this rupture between father and son, she could not help realizing what the old man's decision meant to her. It seemed too good to be true that she, the poor, friendless orphan, was to inherit the wealth of Matthew Thomas. Presently she asked:

"Are you sure about his changing his will? I knew I was mentioned for a certain sum, but that I should get all seems incredible."

"The youth nodded. Bitterly he replied:

"It's sure enough. He telephoned Mr. Knapp just now. The lawyer may be here any minute. He said he'd come right up." If ever there was a rascal who deserved the hangman's noose, it's certainly he."

The girl nodded.

"I never liked Mr. Knapp myself. There's something sleek and crafty about him. Do you think he will draw the new will today?"

"Oh, they may draft it today; but then it has to be properly drawn up. I don't suppose it will be ready for signature before tomorrow night, and when my father once signs it that is the end. He is very dogged and obstinate. He'll never change it."

The young girl shook her head protestingly. Starting forward and grasping the young man's hand, she exclaimed, warmly:

"No, Fred, I will not permit it. No matter what your father does I will see to it that your rights are protected. What do you care whether you inherit by will or receive it from me? Do you think for a moment that I could enjoy his money, knowing I had deprived you of it? No matter what your father says, you will get it just the same."

Making a quick bound forward, Fred clasped her in his strong arms, and his voice trembled with emotion as he said:

"I knew you'd say that, Janet. But I refuse-absolutely. I don't want his money. I won't touch a penny of it. I'll make my own money, and I assure you that it will be cleaner than his. It wasn't the money I cared about so much as the unfair way in which he has treated me."

Both were silent, each distrustful of the other, stirred by different emotions, vaguely antagonistic, the one's heart full of hate and bitterness at the cruel injustice done him, the other elated by the unexpected good fortune which had befallen her. Finally Janet broke the silence:

"So you are determined to go away?"

He nodded.

"Yes; as soon as possible. I can't go without funds., He must let me have some of grandfather's money. He refused, but I'll come and see him again tomorrow. He must do that. I'll make him."

Janet hesitated. Finally she said, timidly:

"Won't you let me lend you some? I have a few thousand dollars that I've saved up."

Fred shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't think of it. Grandfather left me that money, and father must advance me some of it. I'll make him-"

"How can you make him if he refuses."

"I'll-"

Before the sentence could be completed, the library door opened, and the butler entered. Fred and Janet turned to look at him. He addressed himself to Janet.

"Mr. Knapp is here, Miss, to see Mr. Thomas. He had an appointment."

Fred gave Janet a significant glance, but she was so busy listening to the servant that she did not notice it.

"Show Mr. Knapp in here, Finley," she said, "and inform Mr. Thomas that he has arrived."

The butler withdrew and Janet turned to Fred.

"You won't go before I see you again?" she murmured.

"No, I won't say goodbye now. I'm coming to see father again," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Fred nodded to attorney Knapp as they met near the library door. But neither man spoke. Fred glanced up the stairs as he headed for the front door and stopped; it seemed to him that he had seen someone peering down from the shadows. He decided to investigate. He quickly mounted the stairs and moved silently toward his father's bedroom. He paused at the door, listening. Then he quickly opened the door and stepped inside the room.

"Hello now!" he exclaimed in astonishment. There was a naked girl standing beside his father's bed, and she had an eye-startling body.

The girl smiled. He moved in for a closer view. She was even younger at close range, scarcely in her twenties, he thought. She wore very little make-up, her only concession to fashion being a carefully penciled eye shadow. Her lips pushed forward in a kind of perpetual pout, as if she were begging to be kissed. It gave her a sulky little-girl look that was belied by the far from innocent appraisal in her clear blue eyes.

Her nipples were taut and ripe, thrusting from the center of her breasts with a hard, pearl-like prominence. He had a sudden overwhelming urge to touch them, to squeeze them, to take them in his mouth. His eyes traveled with wonderment over her nudity, over the firm swell of her thighs; over the flat whiteness of her stomach, at the sleek curve of her hips. Her thighs were slightly parted-just enough for the pink and prominent lips of her cunt to be glimpsed. Fred sucked in his breadi and felt his cock expanding inside his trousers.

"Damn!" he muttered to himself. "Father has all the luck!"

The girl merely smiled and stared at him with curious eyes.

"My name's Goldie," she said. "Goldie Watkins. And I've got a funny feeling we've met somewhere before. Hey! You're not in the movies, are you?"

"No," he replied, wondering if she had noticed the bulge thumping away in his trousers. "You're thinking of my father, not me; he's the big movie-money man.

She licked her lips, running her tongue slowly over the Cupid's How and keeping her eyes on his face the whole while.

"Sure, that's it!" she smiled brightly. "You look a lot like him. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's busy for a little while," Fred told her, and moved in closer. He had decided to do a little poaching. Serve the old man right, he thought. For a moment he looked down into her eyes, quietly savoring her upturned face, half-parted lips and her daring expression.

"He's with his lawyer," Fred said, suddenly pulling her into his arms. "He'll be busy for some time. He's changing his will, to cut me out."

"And you figure you will cut yourself in up here, is that it?" Goldie said, with laughter in her voice.

"Do you mind?"

"Too soon to tell."

She strained her body into his, her arms going around his neck, and her fingers tightening about his broad shoulders. Savagely, he crushed her tender, full red lips against his own, feeling Goldie gasp into his open mouth as the girl felt his urgent passion. He tasted the fresh, sweet juices of the girl's mouth, letting their saliva mingle and feeling her body pushing against him-her hard breasts pressing into his chest.

They remained standing for long minutes, kissing wildly and desperately. Then he bent her slowly backwards onto the bed, lowering his fully clothed body on top of her, stretching out at full length across Goldie's softly rounded curves.

She was breathing heavily now, panting and gripping him tightly-her fingers running up and down his back, caressing the nape of his neck and fondling the thick black hair.

He withdrew his mouth at last and worked his lips around Goldie's face until they were poised at the softness of her earlobe. Seductively, he licked the underside of the fleshy lobe, letting his teeth close firmly and securely on Goldie's fragrant smelling ear. She shivered, her body trembling like a child's beneath the weight of his body.

His hand closed tightly over the up-thrust globe of the girl's right breast; fingers clenching and pulling at the large orb with a rapist's fury. The nipple itself grew tauter and harder under his touch. The bud swelled visibly, rising in a provocative thrust from the center of Goldie's breasts.

He pressed his forefinger and thumb more securely around the stem, squeezing with an insistent pressure so that the girl's teat stood out more prominently than ever. He bent his face down over the nipple and pursed his lips. She felt his warm, moist mouth close softly round her breasts and felt his teeth gently biting into the enlarged bloom ol her nipples.

Goldie was stroking his hair, running both her hands through it, hold her face down onto her breasts as if she was fearful that he'd withdraw his mouth too soon. He opened his lips wider, then sucked as much of Goldie's breast-flesh into his mouth as possible. In a slow, unvarying rhythm, he tit-sucked her, and as the minutes passed, Goldie felt herself growing more and more delirious, unable to control her mountain of desire-to be fucked.. .

She could feel, through his trousers, the Stiff poker of his cock-thrusting up against her crotch with wild, angry potency. She pushed her loins up onto it, urging the pointed shaft to press more closely to her aroused cunt.

Fred let his hand pass down Goldie's body until it rested on her thigh. His fingers moved on the soft, delicate skin, marveling at the satin texture. Then lie pressed more firmly into the girl's leg, now stroking round the inside of her thigh.

Goldie helped him by opening her legs a little wider, giving him easy access to the supple flesh of her exquisitely shaped upper thigh. He moved his fingers upward until they crossed over onto the venus mount of luxuriant hair-rubbing and fondling at the entrance to her juicy cunt-She was moaning softly now, turning her head from side to side on the pillow and clenching her hands into tight, white-knuckled fists. Her thighs were tense, her ankles drummed spastically on the turned-back sheets.

Fred toyed with her cunt for several minutes, teasing the knob of her clitoris and finger-fucking her with a skillful circular motion of this thumb. Then, just as he was preparing to unzip his trousers and somehow lever his cock into her, Goldie lifted her head and shoulders up off the bed and threw her arms around his neck.

"Jesus, darling!" she gasped. "I can't stand it any longer! Give it to me. Fuck me!"

He hastily extracted his bulging, throbbing shaft from his trousers, and Goldie reached out anxious fingers toward it. The slender fingertips brushed meaningfully across the rigid length, making it leap more wildly than ever. She stroked it and stroked it, babbling endearments as her fingers petted and caressed the rigid shaft.

With a long sigh and a tinkling shudder, Fred rammed his hardness into her juicy slit His prick, now buried completely inside her cunt, was jerking dangerously-warning him that the climax couldn't be long delayed.

From head to toe, his entire body felt stiff and aching with held back semen. Goldie was churning so hard and pumping so that he couldn't fight against the ecstasy. But she didn't care; she was on the verge of orgasm herself.

"Oh, honey-darling-baby!" she murmured in his ear.

"You're better than your father. I'm coming-fuck me, baby!"

And then, utterly unstoppable, came the first pulse of his climax. The premature cream started to shoot into her cunt, his prick jerking violently. For one brief moment he tired to hold it back; then, realizing that the itch in his cock was too strong to resist, he clenched his buttocks lightly and drove into her furiously, encouraging every last jet to escape.

He crumpled upon her, his energy temporarily spent, and wondered whether his trousers were all stained. While considering what to do about that eventuality, Fred was brought to sharp attention by the sudden sound of a door opening.

"What the--! "

He sat up in the bed, startled. Then he laughed. The enraged face of his father stood glaring down upon him.

"Get out of my house!" he roared. "And take that whore with you!"