Chapter 1

Marion Peters found herself puffing for breath as she lugged her heavy basket of samples from her Volkswagen Hatchback up the walkway to her suburban home which was also her office and warehouse. It was sweltering hot and sticky, and she thought of what she would give to go for a ten-minute dip in the cool waters down at Dash Point. But this was a luxury she did not have time for right now. Deserted and finally divorced by her husband Harry, she considered herself lucky to have found work in these depressed times, even though it was as a saleswoman with a required door-to-door contact.

Well, it was better than standing in the unemployment line, and once she'd gotten the hang of it, discovered she could make a very good living. She had completed her morning rounds, trying to open up a new territory, dealing mostly with housewives and selling cosmetics. Through the afternoon she would type up the orders, do her bookwork, catch some sleep on the shaded patio and then in the evening go out with an entirely different line of merchandise, one which would sell to men living alone who were usually confused by the thousands of items offered in supermarkets.

Pursing her full lips into a fine oval, the redheaded woman strode with long, flashing suntanned legs toward her house, her skirt flaring up to bare her twitching ass-cheeks as a sudden gust of wind swept through the area. Her full, tip-tilted breasts jiggled under her thin summer blouse and she laughed at the wind, her green eyes sparkling as she unlocked the door and brought the sample basket inside.

It hit her as soon as the door banged shut ... the silence of an empty house-- ... her son Randi was still not home from school ... or was probably out with his biker pals. For a moment, she thought of running back out and making more calls, but decided instead to stay and wait for her truant son, meanwhile typing all the paperwork that had to be completed.

It was times like this when she realized that, despite her son, she was a very lonely woman; and for a moment she wished that a man had been waiting for her ... a man who loved her and would take her in his arms and comfort her and fulfill all her womanly needs. There had been many men offering themselves in the two years since Harry had left her for another woman, older but richer. But somehow they had all reminded her of him, with his dark good looks and smooth ways, and through the entire time she had remained chaste.

It had not always been easy, and there had been times when, although feeling a terrible guilt, she had hidden away from her sleeping son in her own bedroom and had touched herself, running her trembling fingers over and finally deep into the hot, wet recesses of her cunt, probing and finally finding release as the warm, thick fluids of her arousal seeped through the auburn-fringed tight slit and the sweet aroma of her excited vagina filled the room. Her mind had fantasized partners not worldly-wise slick men like Harry, but young and as innocent as she herself was, despite the fact that she was thirty-five. She wanted tender lovers with whom she could identify.

At one point she had seriously considered going to a psychiatrist to help her solve her "illicit" emotions, but rejected the idea finally. She knew that, if she waited long enough, the right man would come along.

He would fill her yearning body, kiss her secret, sensitive flesh, and after they'd had sex, would hold her and caress her and make her know she was loved. And for such a one, she would do anything. Even the unspeakable things with her mouth that Harry always had wanted.

She knew now, too late, that to take a man's penis into your mouth and suck him to completion was not abnormal. It seemed from her talks with other divorcees and housewives she had met that it was the accepted thing. And Marion often thought she might have done it, even learned to like it if Harry had gone about it differently. But, half-drunk after a "few" drinks after work with his buddies, he had manhandled her, trying to force his rigid staff into her tightly-compressed lips and screaming obscenities at her. "Suck my prick, you proud bitch!" he had raved. "Give me a lot of those hot lips, and use your tongue! Lick my balls!"

She had clawed him and fought him off and finally he had left her for an older woman who apparently would do those things ... and who also had a lot of money he planned to help her spend. The whole thing had been sickening to the lovely redhead. For months she had cried herself to sleep at night, supporting herself and her son on a small inheritance from her parents, having no one but her old Aunt Bernice to turn to, and whom she would never turn to, until finally she was literally destitute and absolutely had to find a job of some kind. The worst part was that she couldn't understand it. She was convinced she had been a good wife and mother.

The house was spotless, well-cooked meals were always ready, even if Harry didn't show up until hours later, and she had always been ready to part her long slender legs and respond to his rampant maleness, even though there were things she would absolutely not do, like suck his penis. Why should he even want such a thing, when her pussy was so eager to take him? Why would he want to do it to her mouth? And even, in his more drunken moments, try to turn her over on her smooth white belly and put it between her ass-cheeks? That had been the most revolting thing of all! More than once, she had run nearly naked from the house to jump into her car and blindly drive through tears into the night.

Well, that was in the past, and, as she opened her portable typewriter and fed an order form into it and brushed her silken hair back from her eyes, she sadly thought it was for the best. What kind of woman would she be now if she'd submitted to her husband's perverted carnality? No better than a common prostitute! He had been so vile in his demands ... if only he had been gentle and loving, she thought that maybe ... just maybe she would have at least tried some of the things he wanted her to do, even though it was strictly against her conservative upbringing. After all, she knew that it was the duty of a woman to serve her husband and family.

Serving and obeying your husband is one thing but being forced to perform obscene, degrading acts is another, she had told herself many times. Sometimes in the night she wondered if her desperate attempts at self-gratification through masturbation were not as bad as what she had given up her marriage to avoid, and the guilt lay heavy on her in the long predawn hours. But the still lovely woman had rationalized these feelings to some extent, telling herself that if she didn't at least partly satisfy them by caressing her full, wide-set breasts and the silken-haired tight slit of her pussy, she would only fall into the trap of taking a lover, and surely that would be more sinful. And what would she do if her son had ever found out about such a thing?

"Oh, damn!" Marion muttered, and began to type up the day's orders, which she herself would deliver. One of the company's strong points was that by being door-to-door people, they would thus firmly establish personal contact with their customers. It was a successful philosophy, and led to repeat sales, but it was hard work. She had been doubtful about the job when in desperation she had taken it, but it had been surprisingly well paying, even though she had to leave her seventeen year old son alone much of the evening. At least she didn't owe any bills and had been able to put a substantial down payment into this house, when she and Randi had had to move out of the much bigger house after the divorce.

Furiously, in frustration, the lonely divorcee hammered the typewriter until it almost jumped off the table, her fingers a blur over the keys. In a surprisingly short time she was finished, and then went to the garage to make up the orders from her stock. Some items she would have to pick up from the central warehouse in the city, but there was no hurry on that, since she always gave a week or so for those orders. Next, she made up the basket for her late rounds, the items for the single male customers ... college students and bachelors.

The beautiful and love-starved divorcee checked the time. She had just enough time to take a shower before going out on her early evening rounds. Running into the house, she stripped off her clothes as she went into the bathroom and turned on the water. Again, as she was standing under the stinging needles of the shower spigot, she slowly became aroused thinking about having a man to take care of her needs, and she quickly terminated the invigorating and refreshing shower.

The lovely redhead dressed quickly but with care, in a minidress and gleaming leather boots. She used no makeup and tied her hair back so she looked closer to twenty than her actual thirty-five years of age. She knew that the type of customer she would be calling upon in the evening would be more-likely to buy from a young girl than an older woman. She ate a hard-boiled egg and drank a cup of instant soup for sustenance, took her basket and headed out on her route for the evening. It brought her close to the city, into one of the new high-rise developments. The company had gone to the trouble of collecting a list of residents of the apartments in the newly developing area, and classifying them. Before Marion Peters pushed a button, she had a pretty good idea of who was going to answer the door, of how many people lived in the place and of what their income was. She knew where to expect to find a student, or a rising professional man, or a young couple shacked up. The latter she avoided, because the girl, seeing her long, smooth legs and the fullness of her breasts would instantly decide she was a threat. Two students were pure gold because they would take one look and fall all over themselves to buy her products in the futile hope of getting a date and eventually getting her into bed. The professional men, young lawyers or engineers or doctors or the like would be slower but usually bought more.

I'm a whore, Marion sometimes thought. I dress in a sexy way and lead them on and really give nothing. Except that what they buy is good. I don't cheat them like the magazine subscription gang. It's not my fault they want to get me into bed!

She put her basket of samples and her catalogues into the Hatchback and went to work. But it turned out to be a poor evening. The heat of the late summer day had evidently driven most of her prospective customers out of their apartments to the communal swimming pools or beaches or air-conditioned bars or someplace else. Few were at home, although she did manage to raise were willing to buy at least a few items, if only enough to give her a few more dollars toward her home and family. It was certainly not enough to send her laughing all the way to the bank in the morning. Finally she decided that the young men who lived in the high-rise apartments were fleeing from the still hot son, as she wished she could, or were off somewhere with their girlfriends, and she was wasting her time. Perhaps a family neighborhood would be better. Families stayed home more often. She threw her things in the Hatchback and drove to a suburban neighborhood which she usually canvassed in the mornings and began ringing doorbells.

Although she found more families at home, this was no more productive. Housewives took one look at Marion in her short dress and compared her freshness with their own drabness and closed the door in her face before their husbands could get a look at her.

I'm going to have to wear longer dresses, the long-legged redhead thought wearily. She calculated her commission for the evening. It came to less than five dollars, and she had only a little bit longer to work. A lousy day, but then the days were usually much more productive and it all balanced out. This was a stinker hot day for Washington, she admitted, and people were so irritable. Including herself. She would have kicked a dog just out of frustration. "Damn, Damn, Damn," she whispered as she drove slowly through winding, tree-shaded streets, looking for a likely house to make a final call. After which she would call it a day. She would try one more time to sell her products and then to hell with it, she would go home! The air conditioner was running in the car, blasting cold air over her. She suddenly realized that her unsuccessful selling trip had left her frustrated and her. cunt was burning again. And her hand was so inadequate! She pulled to the side of the street and directed the stream of frigid air between her legs as she pulled aside the crotch band of her panties and bared the fleshy lips of her throbbing pussy. She pushed the button that made the seat recline and lay back, her long legs lewdly opened and squeezing her breasts through her dress with urgent fingers, making the long nipples come up hard while her cunt lips opened to the refreshing blast of air. Marion's clitoris throbbed and through her mind flashed passages from books she had read on witchcraft and demonology and the black arts.

Copulation with Lucifer. His penis was supposed to be ice cold. "Fuck me, Lucifer," she groaned. "Fuck me!"

The lewd words brought release as the frigid air streamed over her burning-hot pussy. She undulated in orgasm, the wetness streaming over her sleek thighs, and finally collapsed back against the soft, sweet-smelling leather of the seat, spent and, for the moment, satisfied.

It was the first time she had cum without using her hands, and she could not understand it. Shamed at her carnality, the auburn-haired woman found a Kleenex in the glove compartment and wiped between her legs, trying to scrub away the evidence of her lust.

She was suddenly consumed with fear. Marion knew she was going to do something bad ... and would not be able to stop herself. She had no idea what it might be, except that it would have to do with her own terrible sexual need. She would sooner or later yield to her body's carnal wants, and yet this was the last thing she wanted to do. For two years she had gone without the driving force of a penis ... Gone without the love of a man ... She had denied herself in a way she knew was as unnatural as her fingering herself, or the strange ecstasy she surged with in the stream of cold air. The question was, how long could she hold out ... could she find a man, and be good to him before she broke down completely?

Dusk was closing in and there were lights in the houses of the neighborhood now. She tossed her head and figured, What the hell? It's too late now to catch anyone receptive to buying anything ... at least, it will be as long as this heat wave holds ... Maybe, just maybe, I'll take off a couple of days to spend with Randi ... maybe we'll go to the beach, maybe ...

"Hey, Randi! Get a load of this!"

Randi looked over the older boy's shoulder. "Jesus," he said, "that's quite a set of knockers!"

Joe Danielson chuckled lewdly. "My ol' man's got a whole truckload of these things in his office. He's even got the first issue of Playboy."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Does he know you take his magazines out of his office?"

"Shit no, he'd kick my ass from here to breakfast if he ever found out."

Randi grinned broadly. Somehow he couldn't imagine anybody kicking his older pal's ass not even his old man. "Turn the page, man. Let's see what the fold-out looks like."

Joe turned the page. "Looky here! This bitch's boobs are even bigger than the other one's!"

"She's got a nice ass, too. What's the date on that mag?"

Joe looked at the cover. "March, fifty-nine."

"Hey, that's a real 'golden oldie,' isn't it?"

"Yeah. All they could show in those days was tits and ass. You don't see no pussy hair or anythin' like that."

"They're still some foxy-looking bitches ... What time is it?"

Joe looked at the place on his wrist where his watch would have been if he'd chosen to wear one. "Lemme see, now ... the big hair's on the freckle, and-"

"Aw, fuck you! Hey, Anita, what time is it?"

Anita Ramirez, the young Mexican waitress, stepped back into the kitchen area to look at the Guadalajara Cafe's only clock. "It's ten minutes to six," she chirped happily. She was always happy when Joe was there; she was in love with the handsome nineteen year old with the big "chopper" and the wickedly smiling white teeth.

Randi stood up and started to zip up his summer-weight motorcycle jacket. "I gotta get a move on, Joe. My ol' lady will really get uptight if I don't get home pretty soon."

"Hey, man," the older boy teased, "what you gonna do, turn into a pumpkin, or something?"

"Aw, c'mon, man, give me a break."

"Tell it to your pretty mama, baby. Hey, Anita, gimmee a bowl of chili."

Randi fumed in silence. He couldn't just take off like a punk-assed kid, for Christ's sake. He sat down again.

Anita dimpled at him. "You want some, too, Randi?"

He sighed resignedly. "Yeah, let me have some."

As Anita stood ladling out the peppery concoction at the other end of the counter, Joe leaned toward his friend and spoke softly. "Hey, man," he said, "you wanna have some fun tonight?"

"What's up?"

"That," Joe nodded toward the young Mexican girl.

"Hey, get serious, man. Anita's got eyes for you only."

"I don't care nothing about no Chicano bitch.

Are you with me or not?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Her folks are down in Los Angeles for a week. I thought we'd all split over to her place after she gets off, smoke a little grass and fuck her 'til she can't stand up."

"Who's we?"

"The guys."

"Chuck and Eddie, too?"

"Yeah. Sure. They're down pickin' up the stuff right now."

Randi scratched his tousled head of red-blonde hair and stared longingly at the beautiful petite Chicano who sat his and Joe's chill down in front of them. He waited until she was safely out of earshot before giving his answer. "Yeah, sure, why not?" he blustered. "What kind are the guys getting?"

"Panama Red, baby!"

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"This chili's hotter than a mother-fucker."

"No shit."

"What time's Anita get off?"

"About six-thirty, or so whenever the other girl gets in."

The windows of the Guadalajara Cafe reverberated to the sound of two motorcycles then, as Chuck Aaker and Eddie Flores rode up and parked their machines out front. Chuck, the larger of the two, was a big blonde kid with a build like a weight-lifter. Eddie, short and dark and brooding, was rapidly putting on the fat. Both young men wore black leather jackets, despite the weather, like Joe inside. All wore their hair nearly shoulder length and unkempt.

"Hey, hey, hey," laughed Joe as his friends entered, "whadaya say!"

"We got the shit," said Eddie. Joe smiled broadly, his gleaming white teeth lighting up the room. "Panama Red."

"You bet your fucking boots."

"Sit down and have a bowl of chili or tacos or something. We still got some time to kill."

Apart from the occasional trucker or cab driver, the filthy four, as they called themselves, usually had the out-of-the-way cafe to themselves at this time of the evening, as they did this day. Chuck and Eddie sat down flanking the pair at the counter.

"Hey, Joe," Chuck drawled. "Lemmee see your magazine."

Joe slid the magazine down to his blonde buddy. "Don't get cum all over it," he said. "I got to take it back to my ol' man's office."

Randi smiled with amusement. Joe was tough, there was no doubt about it, especially with the amount of control he exerted over the larger boys. Still, even in Joe's presence, the younger boy felt a little intimidated by Chuck and Eddie, but specifically Eddie. In the few months he'd been palling around with the three older bikers, he couldn't remember Eddie once smiling. He was about the same age as Joe and Chuck, nineteen or twenty, but he seemed a lot older somehow. In any case, Randi made a conscientious effort to minimize his direct contact with the humorless Chicano.

Anita brought over two more bowls of chili and set them before Chuck and Eddie at the counter. She was smiling broadly, beaming in her joy of being with the boy she loved. She knew it was risky letting the guys come over to her house to smoke their dope, but it was worth it if it gave her a chance to be with Joe. Every time she looked at that rugged face, she got goose bumps. He was from a fairly good family, and he had the personality and qualities of leadership that would have allowed him to choose any career he wanted. But career wasn't where his head was at. Joe chose the road, the street, the hairy dangerous life that gave him a sense of individual freedom that he knew he would never be able to achieve in the confines of a business. Joe Danielson had long ago decided that he would be his own man ... even if he did have to occasionally ask his own old man to bail him out of a jam once in a while.

"Holy fuck!" Chuck stammered suddenly to no one in particular. "Look at this pair of tits!"

Marion looked up from the day's dishes at the sound of a passing motorcycle, hoping against hope that it was Randi. She was angry with him for staying out, but she was worried, too. He was her son, her only child, and all that was left of her marriage, and she loved him. It made her sick that he'd started to pal around with Joe Danielson and his hoodlum friends, but what could she do? Randi was much too old for a spanking. It probably wasn't fair of her to be so protective, but how else could it be with her own youthful experience to draw upon? He was a boy, though, and perhaps most of the dangers she imagined were out there lurking for him were largely the product of her own imagination. Christ, he was nearly a man, already! An easy six-foot-one and close to a hundred and eighty pounds, he was nearly as big as his real father, Creighton Holt.

Marion shook that unpleasant fact from her mind as she had repeatedly for the past fifteen years. like the dream of which it was a part, it was her darkest secret. She shuddered to think of what Harry would have done if he had ever found out during their marriage! God, she sighed, the irony of it all! Her mind drifted unwillingly back to the afternoon of her rape, to the afternoon she limped back to the YWCA in

North Hollywood to pick up her things. "The State Employment Agency called while you were out. You've got a job interview tomorrow at Consolidated Aircraft ... The man said it was for a receptionist's position."

It was at Consolidated Aircraft that she had met, and after a whirlwind three week courtship, married a dashing young salesman by the name of Harry Peters. God, she didn't even realize she was pregnant until the second week of their Jamaican honeymoon! And she thanked God that her new husband had been transferred up to Washington, and so she was able to have her baby far from the city in which her "unfortunate" pregnancy occurred.

Idly, she dried her last dish and set a pot of stew for the errant Randi on the stove to simmer, and then wandered into the bathroom to ready herself for bed. Dammit, she thought, where is that kid!

"Hey, man," Randi laughed delightedly, "this is some super shit!" He took another long hit and handed it back to Joe Danielson. "That's for real Panama Red, huh?"

Joe took the reefer in pinched fingers and nodded. "The best on the West Coast, man." He took a deep drag and held it down, then handed the tightly-wrapped little cigarette to Anita.

The five teenagers sat in a tight circle on the floor in the young Mexican girl's living room. They were high, stoned, all of them. Anita took a hit and passed it to Eddie, flinching when the repugnant fat boy took a second too long to take it from her fingers, his greasy fingers touching hers. Still, she was willing to put up with Eddie or anybody else to be with her guy.

"Hey, Anita," Chuck proposed as he took the reefer from Eddie, "why don't you show us your titties?"

Anita blushed at the big boy's jesting. "They're pretty small," she smiled, looking at Joe for approval. "I don't think they'd give you much of a thrill."

"But they got a nice shape!" the blonde-haired biker persisted.

"No, Chuck ... I don't think-"

"Show him your fucking boobs!" Joe snapped suddenly.

Randi took the joint from Chuck and waited in stony silence to see just what Anita's response would be. Jesus, he thought, that Joe's got more balls than any guy I know!

"Are you gonna take that blouse off, or not?"

Any TWO guys!

Anita blinked tearfully, stunned, unable to fathom the reasons for her true love's sudden coldness. This had to to be some kind of joke. she hoped. Her eyes searched Joe's for a sign of humor, but found them coolly unresponsive, glazed with drugs and meanness. Okay, she choked. If he thinks I don't have the guts, I'll show him! Quickly now, the young girl's trembling fingers found their way to the top button and began to unfasten their way down. "Sure, Joe," she sobbed, haughtily tossing back her mane of sparkling blue-black hair, "whatever you say!"

Randi took a quick pull on the cigarette and passed it to Joe. He didn't know why, but his friend's cool meanness to the innocent little waitress was beginning to give him a tremendous hard-on. Shit, he thought, I bet she'd fuck a snake, if he told her to! He watched in drug-fogged admiration as the tiny girl stripped tearfully out of her blouse and tossed it into the center of the circle, then reached back to unzip the catch at the back of her short skirt. Christ! She was going to take everything off!

"H-Hey," Chuck stammered flatteringly. "Your boobs ain't small, Anita!"

Indeed, they weren't. A proud and conically-shaped B-cup, they rode high and jiggling beneath her white lace bra, her generous pinkish-beige nipples threatening to seep right through the gossamer fabric.

Anita reached behind her back to unfasten the bra, her golden-skinned breasts swinging slightly apart as she freed them. Then, quickly, she began to roll her panties down over her slim, golden hips, kicking them into the pile as well, once they'd reached her delicate sandal-shod feet. Her big black eyes as dark as midnight and brimmed with tears glistened with an eerie determination as she leaned back on her slender arms and spread her legs for all to see. "Okay," she said, "who wants to be first?"

Randi swallowed tightly in disbelief. Christ, even Joe didn't know what to say! It was Chuck, finally, who was the first to speak. "Shit, I'll go first!" he offered. "Can I fuck you between the titties?"

Anita shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Quickly, the big blonde boy was on his feet and stripping out of his grease-stained Levi's. Letting them and his underwear fall where they may, the burly young man stepped over the pile of clothes in the middle of the circle and stood directly above the lewdly displayed young Mexican girl, still wearing his sleeveless T-shirt, his long red cock poling out at an obscene angle.

Anita did not even look in Joe's direction. Instead, she propped herself up on her elbows and cupped her breasts in her hands for the muscular young man who was moving swiftly into position astraddle her chest. Dropping down to his knees, Chuck levered himself into position, his beet red cock resting in the smoothly perspiring cleavage between the young girl's breasts. Unprompted, she pressed her succulent breast flesh together tightly around the boy's swollen penis, forming a lewd sandwich. Then, to Chuck's surprise and delight, she leaned down and planted a lingering wet kiss on the leaking head of his cock as it poled up in rigid entrapment. Below, she spread her smoothly tapering legs still wider, exposing the full pink glory of her tender young vagina, contrasting beautifully with her burnished-gold complexion.

Randi couldn't remember when he'd seen anything quite so exciting as the scene now unfolding before his young eyes. Anita was absolutely beautiful even more so than he'd imagined when he ogled her in the Guadalajara Cafe. And now, watching her eagerly accepting Chuck's long scarlet cock between her luscious titties, he was concerned whether or not he could pull his weight when it came his turn ... so the other guys wouldn't realize that it was his first time at bat. He knew he wouldn't have any trouble keeping it up; hell, it was so hard now he thought it would pop if somebody looked at it the wrong way. No, he just didn't want to look like a punk-assed kid who didn't know any better. He hoped they were all too stoned to notice his mistakes.

Eddie stood up then and handed the best part of a freshly rolled joint to Randi. "Here, punk," he grunted as he stripped hurriedly out of his soiled chino trousers, "take it. I'm gonna try this little puta out."

Randi watched as the fat boy ambled over to the lewdly writhing couple on the floor. "Hey," Eddie said. "How about a blow job?"

"Get lost, man!" Chuck blurted. "I ain't gonna smell your funky ass while I'm popping her between the boobs!"

The fat boy grimaced evilly. "Roll her over on her belly on top of you then, and I'll fuck the bitch dog-style."

"Hey, Joe," Chuck started to protest. 'Tell this fat mother-fucker to get lost, will ya?"

"Go ahead and roll over," Joe tossed back indifferently. "It ain't gonna kill you." He turned to Randi, and took the joint from between the younger boy's pinched fingers. "You better hop in line, man. When those two get done with her, she won't be able to sit down for a week."

"What about you, man?"

"I've already screwed her four times. I'm getting tired of the bitch."

Randi could hardly believe that anybody could get tired of anything as pretty as that ... not even Joe Danielson with his choice of half the girls in King County. He'd never figured her for a whore though, unless she was just trying to get even with Joe for pulling a fast one on her. Yeah, he decided, that's got to be it. I can't figure her for putting up with that fat fucking Mores unless she was trying to let Joe know she didn't play no shit.

Chuck rolled over on his back, taking the unresisting little waitress with him. He repositioned his cock between her now-hanging golden breasts so that her head and shoulders were lower than her wavering satin-skinned buttocks. Eddie, his pudgy red cock curving wickedly out from beneath the babyish overhang of his flaccid belly, dropped to his knees behind the kneeling girl and pressed his sweaty loins up tightly against her wavering ass until his swollen flesh was firmly embedded in the warm crevice. Lewdly, willing herself not to recoil from the soggy, unclean touch of the obese biker, she wiggled her soft behind back on his thick pole of flesh. Tears were brimming her big deer eyes, but she was determined now to see the thing through to its final completion. If Joe wanted her to be a puta--a whore--then she would be a puta! "Go ahead and put it in, man!" she announced. "What are you waiting for?"

"You want me to rupture myself, or something?" the lewd fat boy rejoined. "You ain't even wet yet!"

He spat unceremoniously into the palm of his hand and anointed the head of his cock, providing a sticky lubricant as his saliva mingled with the thin thread of pre-coital sap that seeped from the inflamed slit in the head of his cock. "Okay," he said finally, raising back up off his flabby haunches, "open it up!"

Anita reached back with her small hands and lewdly spread the smooth cheeks of her ass to the dirty boy who never smiled.

Randi sat in stunned silence, awaiting his chance in the batter's. box. His teenage balls churned thrillingly in their wrinkled sac as he looked on, mesmerized by the wicked scene unfolding before his eyes. In part he was dreading the jibes of his comrades if he fucked it up, but he was anxious to prove himself, too, to show them that his cock was bigger than any of theirs. Shit, yes, he'd taken enough showers in high school to knew he was well hung. Christ, he was even a little bigger than Joe ... and Joe was huge! He didn't know where he came by such a big one, but he guessed it must have been from some distant ancestor on his mother's side of the family, since he'd once seen his old man's and it wasn't big at all.

Eddie lunged forward, slicing the tender pink flesh of Anita's velvety soft interior before him as he entered her in the obscene dog-style position. "Ooowwww!" she wheezed at the brutal assault. "Slow down, man ... it hurts!"

Eddie gripped the protesting girl tightly by her slender waist, stepping up his pace even more. He didn't mind if he caused her pain. Hell, he liked to cause people pain; it made him hard. Quickly now, he slid his pudgy fingered hands back from her narrow waist to squeeze and fondle her nakedly exposed posterior, his digits molding the sweetness of her flesh with such force that ridges of it rippled up between them.

My God! the young girl winced. He is not long ... but so very hard and thick! Then, unavoidably, she remembered the stiff red cock between her conical warm-skinned breasts. Slowly, voluptuously, as she grew increasingly accustomed to Eddie's rabbit-like ministrations at her backside, Anita pressed her chest tightly against Chuck's cock in front. It wasn't as thick as Eddie's, but it was decidedly longer, and flushed a deep scarlet nearly purple in its lust. The fish-like opening at its tip pulsed and quivered, gaping wickedly open on the upstroke like it was emitting a tiny scream. Anita could look right into the little coralline opening, could see the viscid moisture accumulating there. Suddenly, her mouth flickered open again and her precious pink tongue darted out to dip into the inflamed scarlet pit in miniature parody of the hammering fuck she was receiving from the rear. "Sweet fucking Jesus!" Chuck blurted in lewd delight. "This bitch really knows what it's all about!"

She should, Joe smiled silently, I taught her everything she knows.

Randi was becoming increasingly aroused by the second. He'd never witnessed anything so mind-boggling in his young life not even the time Joe had made his father's secretary suck him off in the office that time, and cost her her job in the process. No, this was different. Anita was taking on two guys at a time, and as soon as there was an opening, he, too, would get his chance. In no further need of encouragement, the tousled-haired boy stripped quickly out of his Levi's in anticipation of his own turn with the girl. Jesus, he could hardly wait to get his hands on her, and, from the way Eddie was going about it, he probably wouldn't have long to wait ... !

The fat Chicano hammered into the slender young waitress with a near maniacal fury, his thick flabby paunch slapping against her dimpled buttocks with such force that her entire mouth was forced down over the uncapped scarlet head of Chuck's cock fucking so wonderfully between her breasts. She could feel the fat boy's balls mashing wickedly against her passion-distended clitoris on the in-stroke and the sensation was maddening. In minutes, the whole idea of revenge, of spiting Joe for his lack of loving reciprocation, was forgotten. She was a willing conspirator in her own delicious ravishment, masochistically thrilled with the knowledge that there was no way to stop it once it had begun!

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Flores bellowed suddenly, gasping for breath. "I'm cumming!"

The fat boy felt the thickness of his cock begin to quiver and throb in its heated expulsion of his vile seed. Anita's tender pussy, milking and squeezing his turgid organ, drained him of his heavy load in mere seconds, but left her highly aroused and unsatisfied as he slipped softly from her warm sheath. "Hey, c'mon, you fat bastard!" she protested. "I'm almost there!"

Joe grinned wickedly and reached over to tap Randi on the shoulder. "Go on, man," he said. "Eddie's already done half your work for you. Let's see if you can bring her across the bridge."

Marion yawned broadly. God, girl! she thought with a start as she caught her weary reflection in the mirror over the medicine chest. You look every day of your thirty-five years tonight! She turned then and turned off the water in the tub. Well, we'll just have to see if a hot bath can provide the necessary therapy.

Slipping quickly out of her clothes, the young mother tested the bathwater with a pink-lacquered toe and found in satisfactory.

She stepped into the bubbly bath, then sat, letting its soothing warmth envelop her. It felt good, relaxing, like the tender caress of a gentle lover. Harry had been a cruel lover, but nonetheless a good man, and, God, sometimes she wished they were still together so he could straighten out their boy. She just couldn't handle that kid anymore. There was just no way to intimidate him. He could be almost ruthlessly inconsiderate at times ... like ... like Creighton Holt.

She shivered coldly at the thought, then snuggled deeper into the tub to warm herself, then elevated her coppery-haired pelvic region in the process. Idly, she picked up a washcloth and began to lather it up with a bar of beauty soap. Then, the soapy washcloth in hand, she began to scrub her abdomen and upper thighs. She scrubbed hard, as if to erase the disturbing thoughts from her mind. She scrubbed until her pale white flesh tingled warmly from the effort. Oh, damn, she panicked, all I have to do is touch myself down there and I'm thinking dirty again. It's got to stop, it's got to stop ... She dropped the soapy washrag and began to pinch her tender inner thighs in frustration, as if the self-inflicted pain could in some way diminish her tingling desire. It didn't. Indeed, the sharp nipping only seemed to flame the darker masochistic side of her nature ... a side newly discovered. Oh, my

God! she gasped in self-realization. I LIKE it to hurt! Oh, God ... it feels goooood!

And then her soapy middle finger slipped quickly into the wispy pubic curls that covered her sex, parting and teasing the rapidly swelling nub of her clitoris with the tip of her long fingernail, while the remaining hand continued to pinch and tease her pliant flesh. Unable now to stop herself, her vivid mind began to conjure up bizarre erotic fantasies in livid detail. Yes, oh God, yes! Someday I'll do it! Someday III go out to a bar and let myself get picked up by the first man who offers to buy me a drink!

A second soapy finger joined the first as she continued to build on her erotic pipe dream. I'll wear a short skirt ... maybe hot pants ... and my highest heels, so I'll look as whorish as possible ... and a skintight sweater, without a bra, of course something very, very thin so everyone will be able to see my nipples...!

Her fingers entered, stretching the delicate pink flesh of her pussy apart before them as they wiggled deeply up to the palm of her hand. He'll take me to some run-down motel ... Maybe he'll be fat or ugly or mean ... Yes, he will be mean ... he'll spank me first with his wide-leather belt ... then we'll fuck ... hard and fast ... and his cock will be big and shiny and very, very stiff!

Her long-nailed fingers plummeted ever-faster in and out of her rapidly moistening vaginal sheath, the tender flesh there clinging warmly to them on the out-stroke. She placed her feet firmly on the bottom of the tub and arched up so that her entire middle was raised above the level of the water. Oh, God, she thrilled, in another minute ... I'm going to cum in just one more minute!

At precisely that moment when she hung suspended between heaven and sweet hell, her reverie was broken by the sound of a deep-throated motorcycle coming up the drive.

Oh, no! she sobbed. Oh, God ... not NOW!"

Randi scrambled quickly behind the still-kneeling form of the young Mexican waitress as soon as the fat boy softened and fell back with his heavy sides panting. Anita was more than ready and she wriggled her pretty dimpled ass back in salacious invitation to her next lover. "Come on, Randi," she pleaded. "Stick it in!"

The young biker instinctively grabbed his large virginal organ by its base and began to rub the swollen head of it in the moist crevice of the young girl's buttocks. It felt good! Hot and wet and smoother than he'd imagined anything, in this world could be. He set his knees a little farther apart on the carpet and shoved.

"Aaauuuurrrgggghhhh!" the girl screamed. "T-Take it out! It's too big! Randi, please stop ... please!"

Randi looked over his shoulder at Joe for the instructions. The older boy smiled noncommittally and shrugged his shoulders. The ball was back in Randi's court. It felt good. He shoved again, burying himself to the hilt.

Anita whimpered loudly. She had brought this on herself, asking these boys over in the first place. There was little she could do but accept her fate. She ceased resisting. Then, after several slow preliminary strokes by the young first-timer, she actually began to arch back at him. It was big and uncomfortable, but it was a cock. And, God, she wanted a cock!

"You really got her hummin' now," Chuck offered encouragingly from his position in front of her face. "She's sucking like a dream!"

Impaled deliciously on the pair of youthful cocks poling into her at both ends, the young Mexican waitress raised her torso up in front so that she could take more of Chuck's deep scarlet organ in her mouth. In a masochistic way, she was even beginning to enjoy the painful pleasure of the overgrown cock fucking into her from behind ... especially since Joe was right there in the room watching. Yes, she could be as wild and as wanton as any ten-dollar whore in her family's old hometown, Tijuana, if that's what Joe liked. And, if that's what Joe liked, then who was she to argue?

Randi felt Anita's sudden change of heart, and smiled proudly. With each new thrust he gained a little more confidence. He'd show that short-cocked sadist, Eddie ... and Joe and Chuck, too, just what a young stud like him could do with a girl! He lengthened his strokes, no longer concerned with the possibility of jerking out, and increased the tempo of his fucking as well until he found a pace that fit both his desire to make it last and his youthful enthusiasm. Hell, he thought, I must be a fuckin' natural-born cocksman! He watched with lewd glee as the tender pink flesh of the girl's vagina clung like a satiny second skin to his turgid pole of meat on the out-stroke, then puckered inward in slippery acceptance when he lunged back in. She was tight. God, she was tight. He wondered if there had been anybody else before Joe, and just now Eddie. He could feel every beat of her passion-aroused pulse, every sudden new burst of natural lubricants issuing wetly forth from her ravished pussy.

"Oh, God!" she gasped suddenly. "I-I'm going to ... AAAUUUURRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!"

She was cumming. Randi Peters had brought her across the bridge!

Quickly now, the young boy raced to complete his own climax while Chuck, up in front, had shoved his cock back into the gasping girl's open throat so far that she nearly gagged on its sticky length. Still, she sucked, and continued to hammer her smooth buttocks back upon the impaling flesh at her rear as she shook with the tingling afterglow of her climax.

Randi looked across the kneeling form of the young waitress to see his buddy, Chuck's, face tightening in anticipation of his impending orgasm. Then, quickly, he was cumming as well, jetting long thin streams of cum far back into her receptive oral cavern.

Anita swallowed greedily, not wanting to lose a single drop of the burly motorcyclist's hot pungent sperm. Was Joe watching? She hoped so. God, she really hoped so.

Randi felt his own release coming upon him then, as his thick balls began to churn in their prickly hirsute sack. Anita's warm ass felt like heaven itself as it bucked against his hairy young belly in time to his fucking in and out of her delightfully seeping cunt. He felt beads of perspiration forming on his forehead, then dropping onto the dimpling small of the writhing girl's back. "Oh, shit!" he yelled. "I'm cumming ... ! "

Joe Danielson looked upon the obscenely cumming threesome with anger. Somehow he didn't like the idea of a cherry kid showing him up with the ladies. He watched Chuck finish and pull away, and watched Anita go off again before Randi had time to soften and pull out. He didn't like that. He didn't like that it at all ...