Chapter 2

Gillian awoke shortly past eight the following morning. The brilliant Oregon sun streamed in through the large open window, and the same breeze of the night before rustled the leaves of a rose bush sprouting beneath it. She rubbed the thick cotton of sleep from her eyes, reluctantly facing the new day, remembering as her mind focused clearly the events of the previous night. Her own wanton exhibition while envisioning her dead husband making love to her ... the lewd and obscene sight of Tansy and that horriid boy, Jason Hargrove, in the kitchen ... She shuddered, and quickly slipped out of bed, padding across to the sliding doors of her closet. Naked before the rack of clothes, she remembered again with scarlet shame her searching hand moving up into the velvet softness of her pubic triangle, and the intense delight of her fingers rubbing the swelling pink flesh of her vaginal lips, sliding in and out frenziedly as she brought herself to almost screaming orgasm. Then, shaking her head and shoulders as if struck by a sudden chill, she dressed quickly in a simple beige sheath and left the room to enter the kitchen.

Tansy wasn't up yet. She liked to sleep late on Saturdays, and after last night, Gillian could certainly understand why. The normally vivacious widow made herself some coffee and toasted a couple of slices of whole-wheat diet bread, then sat at the dinette and moodily contemplated her life, her only company the throaty whirring of the refrigerator beside her.

After witnessing the near love-making between her daughter and Jason, she knew that she was going to have to act. But how? she asked herself disconsolately. How could she get through the resentment and defensiveness Tansy had admitted was between them? She wasn't even sure she could find the reserves to treat the subject with rational calmness herself, much less instill it in her child.

Gillian was pondering these questions when Tansy entered the kitchen, tousle-headed, yawning, but dressed. She wore a lavender colored skirt, which accentuated the tanned leanness of her long, firm legs, and a thin jersey that her bra-encumbered breasts moulded curvaciously. She went over to her mother and gave Gillian a slight, automatic peck of a kiss on her cheek.

"Morning, Mom. Any coffee?"

"In the percolator," Gillian replied dully. "I made it fresh."

Tansy paused, sensing the cool, vague distance behind her mother's tone, and she pursed her lips, a frown replacing the last of the sleepiness in her sparkling eyes.

"Gee, is something the matter?" she asked with concern "You look awfully pale this morning. Are you feeling sick or something?"

"No," Gillian said. She blinked a couple of times, then looked up into her daughter's face. "No, I'm all right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you say so." The lovely young teenager shrugged and poured herself a cup of steaming coffee from the chrome percolator on the drainboard. She brought it to the table and sat down, and for a long moment it was utterly still in the kitchen, though tension crackled in the air. It made her uneasy, and finally she burst out: There is, too, something wrong, Mother. Don't try and kid me. Tell me, will you?"

Gillian looked across at her daughter and slowly ran the tip of her tongue around her lips to moisten them, steeling herself for what she had to say. She said, "Tansy, last night...."

"Yes?" Tansy interrupted sharply. Oh God, is she going to bitch at me first thing this morning? "Is it that I came in so late? I couldn't help it, Mom. You know we all went out for something to eat after the dance. I told you we would before I left!"

"No ... It's not about the time you came in."

"Well, what then?"

The concerned mother took a deep breath and blurted out, "I heard you come in, Tansy. You woke me up, and ... and I heard some noises, so I came out to see ... and there you were, with Jason Hargrove."

Tansy stiffened, and a veil seemed to drop over her eyes, her face setting stonily, belligerently. "You saw us together?"

"Yes, and I saw everything. Everything, Tansy, and I heard everything, too."

"You spied on us!"

"I did no such thing!" Gillian retorted, shaken. "But it was a lucky thing I did happen to want to see you were all right, because ... because...." Her throat suddenly parched so dry that she was unable to force the words through it.

"Go on, Mom, say it!" Tansy flared back hotly. "Go on, say that you saw us kissing. Isn't that true? He was kissing me, hard, and what's more, I like it. I liked it a lot!" Her embarrassment was acute, but her young pride turned it to indignation rather than shame, and her cheeks burned with anger, her eyes flashing darkly across the table to her mother. "Can't you stand the idea of a boy's lips on your sweet little daughter? Is that it?"

"Tansy, it's not only the kissing, but he was fondling you! He had his hands on your breasts, child, and on your ... on your...." Again she choked at the words.

"On my ass, Mom," Tansy said crudely. "But since you were so damned interested in what was going on, then you also know that's as far as he got!"

"And his foul language," Gillian moaned, now shattered by the violence of her daughter's unleashed emotions. "His profanity...."

"He calls it as he sees it," Tansy rebuked. "Jason doesn't believe in the hypocrasies of your world, Mom; That's what our generation wants to end. But what difference does it make what he said to me? I'm still a virgin, remember? Don't worry about that, or do you want that dirty old Dr. Young to go poking around inside my pussy with his crawly old fingers again to prove it?"

"Tansy, calm down! Honey, I only want what's best for you. If your father was here, he'd be able to...."

"But he's not here!" Tansy cried derisively. "Dad's dead! Dead, killed in a stupid accident that never should have happened in the first place."

"Tansy!" Gillian's face blanced a sickly color of bleached four, and her hand flew to her open mouth in horrified shock.

"At least I'm the healthy one around here!" Tansy suddenly stood up, almost knocking over her coffee cup with her surging movement. "You want what's best for me? Leave me alone, Mom, that's the best thing you can do for me! Go find yourself a man and leave me alone with mine!" And with those final, bitter words, young Tansy Nash turned and ran out of the kitchen, impervious to the cries of her mother behind her. A moment later, the rear door slammed with a note of finality, and Gillian was left alone.

She sat stunned for a long time, staring at the doorway through which her young, headstrong daughter had just fled. Oh, God, what was she going to do? If only Fred was here. With a low moan of despair, the beautiful but shattered mother put her head down on her corssed arms and began to weep brokenly.

Steve Shelley glanced up from the morning paper when he heard the slam of the Nash's screen door, and he parted the curtains of the window beside him so he could look out. He saw the young, lithe form of Tansy Nash in her tight lavender skirt stumbling haphazardly out. Lecherously, he licked his thick lips; his eyes moved hotly over the soft, already full contours of the girl's finely curved young body, the taut firmness of her pear-shaped breasts jutting from the thin material of her jersy, the tight roundness of her slender buttocks as they jiggled provocatively as she ran. Tansy faltered by the edge of the garage, either panting heavily or perhaps crying, he couldn't tell which, but obviously she was greatly disturbed over something.

"Jesus," he mumbled half to himself, "would I like to get into that tender little pussy." Every time he saw her he was hungry for her, and as he gazed lewdly at the teenager across the lawn from him, his cock seemed to answer with a throbbing, grinding heat against the tight elasticitly of his pants. "Jesus, yes!" he sighed with relish.

Steve Shelly was a tall, well-built man only a few years older than Tansy's mother, with a shock of curly white-blond hair that constantly fell down over his forehead in a boyish lock and with a thick broad chest with well-developed pectorals, the result of his years as the wrestling coach at Hickson High School. Steve knew of Tansy Nash from school as well as from being her neighbor, though he didn't have her as a pupil. He had certain lewd ideas about someday starting an extra-curricular class in which the lovely young girl was his only student, and he could teach her what other sex education courses left out....

It wasn't entirely coincidence that Steve lived so close to the Nash's. Hickson was a small, old community only recently developing as suburbia extended its macadam and cement tentacles from the big city to the north. Modest income housing was short, and the tract in which they lived was one of the few which a teacher could afford. He had once lived in an apartment, but after the landlady had caught him in the swimming pool buck-naked with her daughter, he decided that his pleasures and pursuits required a more private location, and he had shopped around for a house.

He had tried a very soft, patient approach to the seduction of the provocatively innocent Tansy Nash all last year, knowing that a more brutal approach such as used by some of his wrestling squad might scare her away. Or worse, send her to her mother, and he would face expulsion and ruin, possibly jail. Up until now, Steve had only been able to become a soft of substitute counselor, something of a father figure to the girl, though he had managed to introduce her to the big stud, Jason Hargrove. If anyone could break through her resistance and fuck the living daylights out of that virgin cunt, Hargrove could, Steve figured, and in return for the matchmaking, Jason was to see that he, Steve, got his share. But so far, even Hargrove had not been able to break through the tender teenager's iron resolve to remain pure.

Steve Shelley folded his paper and put it aside, then stood and walked to his back door, wondering if there was some way he could turn the misery that was so evident on Tansy's face into a furthering of his future plans for the girl. He opened the door and stepped out on his short flagstone patio, setting his features into a mask of deep, humanitarian concern.

"Tansy," he called over to her. "Oh, Tansy!"

The teenager looked up, momentarily startled, her fresh young face streaked heavily with tears. Her jaw was set in volatile anger, and her whole body seemed to tremble slightly from being so upset. She looked at him with wide, blue eyes.

"I saw you from the window, Tansy,"

"Mr. Shelley...." Tansy, desperately seeking the guidance she had rejected venomously from her mother, rushed across the lawn to where the teacher stood. "Mr. Shelley, it's just awful!"

"Hey, now, it can't be all that bad," he said soothingly. "Why don't you come in and talk about it?"

Numbly, the girl nodded and stepped by him into his house.

Steve could see that she was on the verge of hysteria, and putting his arm around her, he steered her to the living room, where he sat her down on the couch. "Calm down, my dear, and tell me all about it."

"Mother ... She saw Jason and me together last night," she sobbed. "She saw us making out in the kitchen, and this morning she started a fat lecture about what an awful thing we'd been doing."

"Well, you know how mothers can be. It was bound to happen sooner or later. When it's time for the young to begin breaking the bonds with the nest. I told you that when I introduced you to Jason."

"But what can I do?" Tansy wailed. "I can't leave home, not yet. I have to stay there, but I won't give up seeing Jason, I won't! She'll try to make me, and ... everything will be ruined!"

"Now, my dear, it won't. Don't you worry your pretty little head over it, but leave everything to me."

"Can ... can you really do something about this, Mr. Shelley?"

The glimmering of an obscene plan was churning in the coach's mind. "I think I can," he said calmly, with a faint flickering smile playing across his mouth. "Yes, I think I can."

"What?"

"Well, naturally I'll have to talk to your mother."

"I don't want to be there when you do," she said shivering.

"You won't be, Tansy. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll phone Jason Hargrove now, and see if he'd like to take you out right now for all day, and that way you'll get your mind off this matter."

"Oh, I'd love that!" the girl cried, and she clapped her hands together joyously. "That would be wonderful!"

"And believe me, my dear," he added with a shadow of a grin, "when you come home tonight, things will be different. Very different!"

"You know, Mr. Shelley? I think you're just the man to do it!"

You bet I am, little girl, he thought secretly as he walked into another room to phone. He didn't want Tansy to hear what he was going to tell Jason Hargrove, because if she ever got the idea of what was in store for her, she'd run back to that lovely but prudish mother of hers like a flash. He looked up Hargrove's number. The youth was asleep and answered after a half-dozen rings with a thick, slurred voice.

"Hello?"

"This is Steve Shelley," the teacher told him. "Wake up and get over here. Tansy Nash's waiting."

"Now? At his time of night?"

"It's nearly ten in the morning. High time you finally got into her pants, too, boy, and there's not going to be any more fooling around being nice about it. The kid gloves are off, and you're going to give her the works ... if you can get yourself over here, that is."

"Jesus, coach, I'd like to, but she's been nothing but a pain in the ass. She won't stand for roughing up, and anyway, she'll tell her mother if I start tearing her clothes off like a cave-man."

"Do what I tell you, and there won't be any problem."

"But, I'd promised Bart Linwood to go over to his girl's house today, though. See, Wilma Casey's parents are away, and Bart got a hot new fuck film he wants to show. Should be fun. Wilma loves getting balled by two guys at the same time."

"So much the better," Steve Shelley chuckled. "Tansy knows Wilma from school, so she'll be that much more off guard, thinking that nothing can happen to her with the four of you together. I tell you, I've got a plan that won't fail."

"I don't know...." Hargrove said hesitantly. "I'd hate to screw up a day of fucking Wilma on the chance I can score with Tansy."

"Tell you what, Jason. Instead of selling you the usual lids of marijuana this time, I'll give you some special pot ... no charge ... that's been doctored with Spanish Fly. I save it for occasions like this, and if you can get her to smoke it, she'll turn on like a mink in heat, I guarantee!"

"Now you're cooking!" Hargrove said excitedly. "I'll grab my pants and be over. Hot damn, I can almost feel my cock up inside that sweet little cunt of hers already!"

"One more thing," the head coach put in. "Since I'm giving you the marijuana, you can see that Wilma lets me in her house before you and Tansy arrive. I'll be waiting and hiding when the fun starts."

"You planning to join in ... make it a five-some?"

"Use your head, Jason boy. Only way we're going to get away with this is to work on Tansy's tight-assed mother, too, so nobody will be spilling anything to the cops. I've got a feeling that after twelve months without a man, she's itching for a good fuck, but she'll need the right kind of encouragement, and I've got to be there when you shove your rod into her daughter's belly to get it. Me and my camera."

Jason Hargrove laughed crudely. "Blackmail! Good fuck, you bastard. Mrs. Nash's a damned fine cunt by the looks of her, by God. Hell, either of them bitches could give me a hard on that would ache all the way to my knees."

"Same here, Jason, and who knows? If my plan works, we might nail both of them together in a gang-fuck. Now, hurry on over."

"I'm on my way soon as I call Wilma," the youth said, his anticipation contorting his young voice and lewdly telegraphing his hotly excited thoughts.

Steve hung up the phone and smoothed his hair back, contemplating the plot he'd conceived in his mind. Christ, if it worked, it would be a literal tour de force! He wanted to fuck that luscious little teenager all right, but there was the other member of the Nash household whose panties he'd dearly love to strip off, whose soft and perfectly preserved feminine charms always elicited burning desire in his cock and testicles. Damn, but Gillian Nash was a lot of sensual woman, going to waste now that she was a widow. She was prime, and he, Steve Shelley was going to try his best to ram his prick up into her dark-haired cunt and show her what fucking was all about. And if everything went right, he'd soon be fucking her hot little daughter as well, and wouldn't that be a feather in his cap! Mother and daughter, both spreading their legs and opening their cunts for him....

He walked back into the living room to smile down at Tansy, aware that his cock was hard as a fence rail right now, just thinking about it, and his mouth had gone dry, while small beads of sweat started to form on his brow. Just a few more hours, he murmured to himself, and then you, darling girl, you and your lovely mother will be begging and begging....

Jason Hargrove's powerful Porsche sports car purred smoothly along the road. Tansy relaxed against the passenger seat and let her long raven hair flow out into the cool refreshing slip-stream of the car, feeling much calmer and relaxed now that she was miles away from her home and mother.

She gazed gratefully at Jason, pleased that he had cared enough ... especially after his disappointment last night ... to have driven over to pick her up for the day. She sighed, stretching out her arms, and said to him, "Well? Where are we heading?"

The youth grinned back at her. "You'll see, baby."

"No, tell me, Jason! I want to know what the prescription is going to be for my blues."

"Ain't going to be bad tasting, I'll say that," Hargrove taunted, and then he threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Naw, I'll tell you," he said after a moment. "We've been invited to a party up at Wilma Casey's house. A small party, just us and Bart Linwood will be there, but the way I hear it, it will be a damned fine party. You game?"

Tansy regarded her handsome boyfriend quizzically. "I know Wilma from school a little bit. She's a grade ahead of me, so I don't pal around with her, but ... isn't she supposed to be sort of wild, Jason?"

"Well now, if you're scared...." Jason teased.

Jason's remark irked the girl. She was tired of being treated like a babe in arms, though she had to admit that this time it was her own fault, hesitating the way she had.

"I'd love to go," she said decisively. "I was just asking, that's all."

"I tell you now, baby, this ain't a party for kiddies."

"What do you mean?"

"There'll be some drinking, and Bart's bringing a stag film and things like that to get everybody nice and friendly and forgetting their troubles. Ever seen a stag film?"

"N. ... no, I haven't," she replied, her voice racking slightly. "A . .are they bad?"

"Depends on what you call bad," the boy chuckled. "They get one nice and heated up if you let them. So if it would scare you, tell me now. It would be a bad scene, baby, if you chickened out when the fun and games began."

Tansy considered herself old enough to handle any situation, and besides, what harm could a little drinking and watching a sex movie do? She'd been able to stop Jason's advances all the times before, hadn't she? Anyway, Wilma would be there, and nothing really terrible would happen with the two of them...."I said I wanted to go, and I do, Jason Hargrove," she said defiantly. "I'm here for a good time, aren't I?"

"Good girl," he chuckled again. "I'd hate to have to sit through one of those things without some good female company. We've a little time though, because Wilma said not to come until noon. She's fixing lunch for us."

"That's nice of her," Tansy said.

"Wilma's a very nice girl," Jason replied, the thin smile on his handsome young face was hidden from the girl beside him as he turned a left-hand corner and sped across town to the park. "Let's kill the time watching the sailboats, okay?"

"Okay!" Tansy agreed heartily, but in spite of her efforts, the haunting feeling wouldn't go away that perhaps she shouldn't have been so eager to agree. But it was too late now. She had committed herself, and she would not back down....

The hours until noon passed quickly for the young girl. Jason was at his nicest, talking a blue streak in an effort to cheer her up, the day was beautiful and hot without being overly muggy, and park was lovely....

The Caseys came from one of the better sections of Hickson and their house was a lovely and spacious plantation style of white house with large white pillars. Wide, rolling grounds bordered it, much as the park had bordered the sail-boat pond, with a magnificent swimming pool and a tennis court tucked away between large old trees and a miniature mountain of stone from which a landscaped stream and waterfall gushed pleasantly. Tansy had never been to such a beautiful home, and was fascinated by it from the moment they entered the long drive to arrive before the massive font doors.

Wilma Casey was a tall, bonde-haired girl with rich-swelling breasts like melons ripe on the vine, and curving hips with seductively swaying buttocks and long, limber legs. She was wearing an extremely brief pair of shorts that failed to cover the entirety of her round, moon-shaped ivory buttocks, and they curved in so that they emphasized the crevice betwen her asscheeks blatantly. From the front, they snugly molded her full, fleshy vaginal lips, indicating without any question the contours of her young pubescent cunt. Tansy had a hard time keeping her eyes modestly away from the other girl's pussy, her mind once more dwelling on the stories she heard about the "wild" Miss Casey and her promiscuous ways. There'd never been any proof, but it was hard not to think that Wilma and Bart Linwood weren't ... well, weren't lovers!

Wilma had come around the side of the house bare-footed, a tall frosted glass in her slim hand and a cheery smile on her face, and had been waiting for the Porsche to pull to a halt. She came over to the small car. "Hi, Jason," she said in a throaty purr. "Oh, and it's good to see you again, Tansy. You've never been here before, have you?"

"No, Wilma," Tansy said, pleased at the way she'd been greeted. Of course she'd never been here, but it was a nice greeting, nevertheless.

"Well, you'll just have to come more often," Wilma said lightly, and then she waved in the direction from which she'd come. "Bart's waiting on the sun-deck. He's been swimming." As the three of them went around the side to the porch, Wilma asked. "You want to go swimming, Tansy?"

"I didn't bring a suit, I'm afraid."

"Well, Bart didn't either, but one of my dad's fitted him." She laughed and added, "Dad's a lot thinner and shorter, so it didn't fit too well, but enough to cover the important parts, at least!"

The path ended in a long, narrow grotto, floored with more of the lush greenery, and fronting the small quarry and waterfall and the tiled swimming pool. Beneath three graceful willows trees were several brightly colored lounge chairs and chaise lounges, and in one of the chairs, his feet on a white metal table, was Bart Linwood.

Tansy had never met Linwood before, since he was a friend of Jason, and similarly out of school by a few years. His brown hair was thick and shaggy, and at the moment still damp from his swimming, and as he stood up to greet them, his eyes seemed to bore into her with an odd maliciousness which made her tingle reflexively. It was almost as if he was mentally stripping her Levi shorts off of her, leaving her naked and defenseless! And Lord! Wilma hadn't been joking about the swimming trunks, either! They were elastic, a yellow-green which looked as if they'd been painted around his bronzed, hard-muscled thighs. They were lower than where she wore her bikini bottoms, and the hard, bas relief outline of his limply curled penis strained at the stretched thin material, threatening to tear it in half. Why, it shows everything he has! Tansy thought prudishly.

Wilma went over to Bart, and he placed his arm around her waist, his fingers playing familiarily on the satiny surface of her flesh that was exposed between her skirt and bolero top. "Bart, this is Tansy Nash," Wilma introduced, moving her body closer to his, rubbing herself against him like a seductively purring cat.

"Well, well, you're the Tansy Jason's been bragging about." His cool grey eyes appraised her in an almost predatory way, and Tansy saw that his gaze seemed almost to caress her jutting breasts.

"Can I pick them, buddy, or can I pick them?" Jason said, sitting down with a swagger.

"You can certainly pick them, Jason!" Bart agreed ardently.

"Let's get the show on the road," Wilma interjected. "Look, you get the pitcher you left in the cabana, Bart, and I'll bring out the lunch." She turned to Jason and Tansy. "I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry, pussy-cat," Bart said, and walked away.

"I'm starving," Tansy agreed. "I didn't have any breakfast."

"This should make up for it," Wilma said, "You wait right here."

Soon platters of hot, spicy pork appeared, along with a tartly dressed salad and a salty bread which Tansy couldn't identify. Along with the food was a rum cocktail, and it was only after a little hesitation that Tansy slaked her thirst with the cooling drink.

The young girl didn't care for the taste of alcohol, but the cocktail mix successfully masked it from her, and before she knew it, she was on a second large tumbler-full of the brownish drink. She drank it down promptly, as if it was a Coke and not a potent liquor, only to find that Bart was again topping her glass, winking at her as he poured. The rum began to take its toll, and she started to experience a general physical relaxing of her body, the tension of the morning evaporating from her flesh. Some of her mental reservations slowly disappeared as well, and surprisingly, by the end of the meal she was finding that she was in rapport with the three others as if she'd been friends with them a long time. She giggled, looking at Jason now and then, and seeing that his handsome face was slightly flushed, and he was grinning crookedly.

She realized that he, too, was beginning to feel the effects of the rum, but she didn't care. She didn't care at all. She was thoroughly enjoying herself now, and felt giddy and lightheaded, almost carefree. She was glad that she'd come. Bart wasn't half as bad as she'd first thought, and Wilma was very nice, very sweet and kind.

Bart went into the house to mix a fresh batch of cocktails, and when he came back, he again favored the young teenager with a profligate smile, his eyes once more treaveling the width and breadth of her creamy, firm body.

"Yeah, buddy," he said to Jason, "she's really something!"

Tansy blushed under his frank examination. "T ... thank you," she said in a faltering tone, lowering her eyes.

"That calls for a drink," Jason said, and took the pitcher to pour the four glasses full again. "Everything calls for a drink!"

"Damned right it does," Wilma agreed. "Drink up everybody. There's plenty more where these came from." She laughed heartily, never telling the innocent little virgin bitch across from her that she was laughing at her. The lunch was not because she liked to cook. It was because she'd been briefed about the plan to seduce Tansy Nash and knew that the salty, spicy foods would cause more drinking. And leave it to an inexperienced girl to guzzle the rum like it was soda-pop! It was a kick, being in on the seduction of this naive young girl, and the thought of all the things Jason was going to do to her with his cock made the smooth fleshy walls of her own cunt tingle and secrete slightly, wetting her panties as it trickled slowly down from her vaginal lips. And Christ ... then there was Steve Shelley downstairs, hiding in the closet with his Polaroid camera! Jesus, this should be one damned wild afternoon! And the young wanton laughed loudly again.

Jason wiped a hand across his perspiring forehead. "Whew," he said. "Is it getting hotter, or is it just me?"

Bart grinning. "A little of both, I think. Why don't we go inside now, and I'll show the movie I got from Sweden last week?"

"Good thinking," Wilma said. "Later we can sit out here when it cools down a bit. I've got Dad's movie machine and screen all set up in the basement, and we'll be plenty comfortable down there."

"Tansy was thoroughly enjoying herself, and no longer had any fear of seeing the stag film. She had been beginning to wonder when they were going to see this hot movie she'd been warned about, and had to admit to herself as she rose and walked with Jason inside the house that now she was actually anticipating it.

The four of them went down a broad flight of stairs to a lavishly decorated play room, done in red velvet and knotty pine paneling, with a luxurious deep-pile carpet on the floor. Bart, who was carrying the pitcher of rum punch and Wilma were barefoot. Jason and Tansy kicked off their shoes and sat down on one of the long low couches that were on either side of the Super 8 motion picture projector, and which faced a large, square silver screen.

She had to crawl over the seat to Jason, the couch being so wide, and when they were leaning back against the deep soft back cushion, just her feet were hanging over the edge. She had difficulty adjusting herself without spilling her drink, but Jason took it from her hand and she settled back comfortably against him. He handed her the drink again, and curled his arm around her, pulling her tightly against him.

"More like a bed, isn't it?" he laughed softly. "Yes," she said, shivering expectantly. "Now what?"

"Well, we sit here and sort of work up to it." And as if in further answer, Bart was crawling across the couch to them, the pitcher in his hands. "Here, a little more. To toast the hope I got my money's worth in the film!"

"I....I think I've had enough," Tansy said. "I don't want to get sick."

"You won't," Jason promised. "Go on, be a sport."

"Be a sport," she murmured to herself, remembering his words earlier about it being too late now to back out ... She drank deeply from the refreshed glass, and then settled back again, taking a deep gasp of air. Her head was whirling, and the screen before her eyes was tilting gradually.

"Have a cigarette," Jason offered, leaning over to offer Wilma and Bart one from a tin box which had once contained pipe tobacco. Then he offered one to Tansy, who shook her head. "Go on," He urged. "You smoke, don't you?"

"Yes, but...." She saw that they were hand rolled, of a peculiar brownish color like no cigarette she'd ever seen before. However, they didn't have filters, which she preferred the few times she'd experimented with smoking. "I'd rather not now, thank you."

"It's the real stuff, Tansy," Wilma said. "You're curiosity now piqued by the other girl's insistance."

"Oh, just a little stronger than the usual American brand," Jason explained casually. "You smoke them for the taste, which is sort of sweeter and less bitter than the normal kind. Like Wilma says, you should try it anyway .What the hell harm can it do? Just inhale the first few puffs slowly so you won't choke."

"Are they safe? I ... I mean, they don't make you not know what you're doing, do they?"

"Of course not, silly," Jason answered impatiently. "Just try a few drags, and if you don't like it, then stop."

"All right," Tansy said hesitantly, not knowing what the tobacco was inside them but not wanting to appear any more of a child than she already had. She bravely took a cigarette and allowed Jason to light it for her.

"Slowly, Slowly," Bart interjected as he took a drag from his own. Tansy watched him and then Jason, finally inhaling very gently, as instructed. It had a strange but not unpleasant taste, and she inhaled deeped on the next pull, holding it down for a few seconds at Jason't instructions before exhaling.

After three or four inhalations. Tansy could hardly feel the smoke curling down into her lungs, it was so smooth. She watched Wilma holding her breath for as long as she could and then took a deep drag herself and held it down deep until she just had to exhale.

"They are nice," she said in a voice that didn't seem to be hers. She looked at Wilma and Bart on the other side of her, and they suddenly seemed to be miles away. "But I feel sort of funny."

"So do I," Wilma said, "Nice kind of funny." It seemed like a logical kind of answer, for indeed, Tansy felt nice in a funny way. She had never felt so nice, come to think of it, or so soft. The longer she held the smoke down the softer and nicer her world became, and then she noticed that Bart had gotten up and switched off the lights in the room, returning to the projector to turn it on.

She could feel the pressure of Jason Hargrove against her thigh, but the thin, brown cigarette had dulled even her fears about him. She felt too good, and she returned the pressure slightly to let him know that she didn't mind and that she like him. She could feel the delicious warmth of the marijuana cigarette tingling deep inside ... deeper down than she had ever felt anything before in her life....