Chapter 1
As the lush well-formed young woman walked out from the dingy shelter of the train station, climbed the cold concrete stairs to the platform and looked hopefully down the track, dozens of eyes followed her every movement. Three bums interrupted their examination of the contents of a garbage pail to study her lustfully. A group of well-dressed businessmen, wearing the traditional gray suits and waiting for the nine twenty-five, broke off a discussion of major league batting averages to watch her long slender legs crisscrossing as she passed them. A porter, pushing a heavy cart piled high with baggage, chose to observe as much as he could see of her firm proud breasts instead of the area immediately in front of him and collided with two ticket-takers who were equally absorbed.
The attention she was getting was well deserved, since Sandy Salm had the smooth supple body of a young Greek goddess. Through the folds of her clinging silky miniskirt, even a casual observer could trace with his eyes the most intimate details of her splendid body. The dress did little to conceal her large, high-set breasts which moved sensually as she walked, despite her efforts to find a brassiere capable of holding them in place. The silk was tight around her waist and over her flat smooth stomach, and then flared gently to cover her slender, almost boyish buttocks. Below, where the miniskirt ended, her long slim thighs melted into perfect knees and calves.
Sandy wore her silken blonde hair in a long, school girl fashion, unsuccessfully attempting to distract attention from the ripeness of her body. People had often told her that her face somehow did not match the rest of her. Below the neck, she had the stunning, exciting physique of a show girl or a movie star, but from the chin up, she was pure aristocrat with a well-shaped delicate nose and deep, serious eyes. It was a contrast most men found upsetting. After gazing with pleasure at her magnificent body, they suddenly found themselves struck with a scornful haughty glance from the beautifully sculptured face and were forced to turn away in embarrassment.
"She's a hooker," one of the businessmen commented, loud enough for Sandy to hear him.
"You're crazy," a friend corrected him in a lower voice. "She's somebody's rich daughter, maybe out doing a little slumming. Look at that mug! Ever see a hooker with a face like that?"
One of the bums left whatever was to be found in the garbage pail to his two companions and walked past her, lewdly attempting to brush against her body. In her effort to avoid a humiliating contact with his filthy clothing, she stepped hurriedly away in the direction of the train tracks, then realized she was too close to the edge of the platform and jumped back, banging into the startled beggar. The businessmen and porters laughed cynically at her embarrassment and she turned her back on them angrily, trying to hide the blush which was already climbing up her neck to her cheeks.
In an agony of self-consciousness, Sandy tried desperately not to cry or give in to the temptation to flee the station, reminding herself that this was going to be one of the happiest days of her life and resolving that no crude, disgusting group of complete strangers would ruin it for her. In a few moments, the train would be coming in. Bill would jump to her side and the anguished months of waiting would be over.
But if only she had chosen a different dress! In a moment of weakness she had purchased this one at a store where hippies went to buy their clothing. She had known it was a mistake the moment she tried it on in the privacy of her bedroom and looked in the mirror, seeing immediately that it revealed far too much of her lust-arousing body and would attract the wrong kind of attention. She remembered how her mother had warned her carefully, telling her that she had to hide her beauty from the world until she was safely married and then reveal it only to her husband. Otherwise, her mother had predicted, her life would be filled with men who desired her only for her body, and other men would pester and insult her on the street. The old woman's prophecy had come true more than once. Usually Sandy wore cautious, high-necked, figure-concealing dresses with her skirts unfashionably long. But on days like today, when she wanted to look particularly pretty, she sometimes gave in to the temptation to wear the brief miniskirts the other girls could wear and get away with wearing. And whenever she did, there was trouble of some kind. Twice in her life, she had been the victim of attempted rapes and whenever she appeared on the street even total strangers forced their attentions upon her.
In the past, her only security had been the fact that Bill was normally by her side to protect her. Sandy, in fact, had come to look upon her body as a handicap, a curse, almost a disfigurement to be concealed shamefully from the world.
Well, she had wanted to be pretty today, and now she was paying for it, although she reasoned that no one would try anything more than a lecherous glance or a crude word here in the middle of a crowded train terminal.
As the spring breeze caressed her supple young body through the thin miniskirt, she found herself becoming a little excited in spite of herself, and she tried to relax and think of Bill and the life together they had planned for so long.
Their romance had been difficult since they had first met and fallen in love as high school students. Sandy's mother would not permit her to date, or wear makeup, or even go out of the house in the evenings until she graduated, and the only time she could have with Bill was limited to a few minutes between classes, lunch hours and an hour or so after school. Bill's father was a junk dealer and had something of a reputation as a drinker and a womanizer. Sandy's father, on the other hand, was the president of the only bank in their small New England community. Her mother spent her days establishing standards of morality for the town, and enforcing them whenever and wherever she could.
Sandy's parents had somehow learned of their daughter's affection for the son of the junkman and naturally disapproved. Even though Bill was a model student, president of the camera club and staff photographer for the school newspaper, he was declared off-limits for Sandy Salm. When Sandy graduated, her parents sent her away to an expensive college on the East Coast where it was intended that she study education and forget this romance with an unsuitable member of the lower classes.
But neither Bill nor Sandy had been able to forget quite that easily. The young man had been forced by his family's financial difficulties to go to work immediately after graduation, but he spent his evenings studying film making and camera technique. His free weekends were dedicated to making the long drive to the college where Sandy was registered as a student of education.
Bill and Sandy had never gone all the way during her college years, but there had been nights during that period when they had come very, very close. Bill, lonely after a week away from her, sometimes became extremely passionate and Sandy needed all the moral education her parents had given her to hold herself back. After their dates together and before Bill would begin his long solitary drive back to their home town, Sandy usually allowed him to coax her into the back seat of his car for a little necking. She felt guilty about this, but had always reasoned to herself that nothing serious could happen as long as she remained morally strong. Bill would always stop when she asked him to and they had been friends for so long that she felt totally relaxed and safe with him. He knew that she was determined to walk down the aisle to her wedding as a virgin and he respected her for this strength.
Sometimes, when Bill seemed unhappy or low in spirits, Sandy would comfort him in the only way she could, letting him slowly undo the buttons on her blouse, unfasten her brassiere and caress her lovely, firmly set breasts with his trembling hands. She knew that this was wrong and sinful, but it had never posed a real problem until the night before Bill's departure for Vietnam.
Bill had enlisted in the Army to get the practical training in film making which he could never afford to acquire in any other way. A friend of his father's got him assigned to a military unit which shot documentaries and training films. Bill knew that the unit was certain to be assigned to Vietnam since that was where the action was, but he was getting nowhere on his own, and he knew that many professional cameramen and directors had gotten their start in the military. It was the only way to success and he decided to take it, even though joining the Army meant a prolonged separation from Sandy.
Nevertheless, they had been almost happy their last night together, or at least they had worked very hard at convincing one another of their happiness. Bill had talked about the experience he would gain in Vietnam and how it would qualify him for a good job when he returned. Sandy had spoken of finishing her studies by the time he was back, and then getting a teaching job to support them while he made his start in life. They had both worked very hard at forgetting about the Viet Cong, and land mines, and machine gun bullets, and all the horrors which awaited him on the other side of the Pacific. And they had drunk a good deal before climbing into the back seat of his battered old car to say their last farewells ... Sandy remembered well what had occurred at that point....
'Wo, Bill, please darling, there are some things we should wait for!" she had cried, but Bill seemed unable to hear her and he closed his mouth over the darkly pulsing tip of one of her breasts, sucking it until her swollen nipple felt as if it would explode. When he had unfastened her blouse and brassiere and slipped them right off her shoulders, Sandy had told herself that it was their last evening together for twelve months and decided to allow him a few extra liberties with her body.
But now he was beginning to frighten her. She knew he would stop when she said no, but she was wondering how much longer she would possess the strength to call an end to their necking.
As he sucked and nibbled her high, proud breasts, his hands continued their exploration of her warm body. His tongue continued to torment the tiny buds of her nipples into stiffness and she was barely conscious of his hand fumbling with the buttons on her wrap-around skirt.
"Oh, Bill!" she cried as the skirt fell away, leaving her firmly rounded buttocks and loins clad only in a pair of sheer, silken panties. She had never before been so exposed to a man and found herself shaking with a combination of nervousness and sexual excitement. This was so wrong, so terribly wrong, but the image of Bill lying dead in some faraway jungle filled her mind and she could not bring herself to end the evening by ordering him to stop.
His hands roamed over the flatness of her smooth white stomach and then on to the softness of her pubic area as he skillfully worked his fingers beneath the soft, flimsy legband of her panties. She gasped with unexpected pleasure as she felt his hands invade the softly curling strands of pubic hair sifting protectively out around her now nakedly exposed vagina. It was a strange tickling sensation and something perverse and wicked in her made her decide to enjoy it a little longer before telling him to stop. The pleasure increased as his hands reached the tiny virginal opening of her vagina. Soon she found her hips grinding sensuously down into the seat and low, involuntary groans of rising pleasure escaping her lips as he manipulated the moist warm flesh around her cunt and she was almost unconscious of the fact that he was undoing his pants with his other hand.
The shock came when he took her hand in his and forced it gently to his cock. It was the first time in her life that she had ever touched a man's penis and she shut her eyes tight out of some foolish conviction that she should not see it even though she was holding it firmly between her warmly trembling fingers. "Ohhhh. God, honey!" he gasped as she tightened her fingers around the excitedly throbbing hardness, and she thrilled to the idea of the danger signals flashing desperately in the back of her mind. Sandy had studied biology in college and had received a halting, embarrased lecture from her mother on sex, but nothing in her past experience had prepared her for the size of Bill's penis, and a tiny thrill of anticipant fear ran through her as she realized that after she was married she would have to accept the whole of his huge male hardness all the way up into the tenderness of her body.
Without thinking or clearly understanding what she was doing, she began to massage it, moving her hand gently up and down the full, excitedly throbbing length of him, delighting in the groans of pleasure she was producing in her fiance. At the same time. Bill's fingers began to penetrate the moistly pulsating mystery of her innocent young vagina and she could feel that his hands were wet from the rising juices of arousal seeping from deep up inside her.
"Don't break me!" she groaned desperately into his mouth. "Leave that for our wedding night. " But the sensations he was creating in her body were too strong and she-could not summon up the moral courage she needed to end this sinful business here and now. Instead she found her subconscious self separating her nakedly exposed thighs a little further to give him more complete access to the interior of her tingling young pussy.
It seemed impossible, but Bill's cock was growing in her hand, and each time she stroked it, she could feel it throbbing and pulsating beneath her fingers, becoming larger and harder than she had ever dreamed possible.
Then, suddenly, he rolled over, lifting himself on top of her body. Instinct caused her to clamp her thighs tightly together the instant he withdrew his hand, and she trapped his long muscular cock in the softness of the skin between her legs. He began thrusting like a madman, in and out, trying to force the swollen tip of his masculinity into her virginal cunt, but she struggled against him fiercely. As she battled, she tightened her thighs even more, increasing the pressure on his straining cock. Then, unexpectedly, he groaned her name and his rhythmically jerking body seemed to fly out of control She felt his cock tense for the last time and begin spurting the hot white cum from his body in thin heated streams up between her tightly clenched thighs.
Her pubic hair was drenched with the thick white liquid and it dampened the insides of her legs and trickled down between the softly quivering moons of her buttocks onto the seat below.
Bill then shuddered violently and his body seemed to go limp on top of her. The danger passed, she felt an enormous tenderness for him and stroked his hair gently while he mumbled embarrassed apologies and begged her forgiveness.
Now, a year had passed and Sandy was still a virgin. From Vietnam, Bill's letters had sometimes come every day and sometimes only a few times a month. He had talked little about the war and she had understood that he was trying to avoid frightening her. Instead, he had written how much he was learning about film making and what an opportunity the Army had turned out to be for him. Sometimes he had talked about a man named Allan, who was his sergeant, mentioning that the two of them were thinking about going into business together after their tour in Vietnam was over.
Sandy, in the meantime, had kept busy with her studies. Her grades were always good, but they had gotten even better, now that her weekends were free for working on her books and she had occupied herself with preparations for her final examinations, practice-teaching in a local grammar school and hunting for a job.
Now, as she stood waiting on the platform for the train to arrive, she felt that they were at last ready to begin their lives. She had graduated a few days previously with high marks and gotten a promise of employment in September from a kindly principal in a nearby school.
Only a few weeks before, Bill had written from Vietnam that he and Allan had decided definitely to go into partnership. He had given her the date of his arrival and asked her to rent them a house where there would be room for both an apartment and a film maker's studio. This she had done, choosing a run-down but sturdy building near a park and not too far from the apartment she was sharing with a girl from the university. Bill had also mentioned that a girlfriend of Allan's would be coming in with them, and Sandy nervously wondered what Allan and this girl would be like.
She found herself also speculating over the possiblity of Bill's having changed during his tour of duty in the Orient. Could a year in the combat zone have altered him in any way? Would he be bitter? Or cruel?
Thinking back on that last night before his departure, Sandy drew herself up and faced the fact that it would be some time before Bill was sufficiently well established to marry her and that until that time, they would simply have to behave themselves. It would be difficult, she knew, but the time would pass quickly. And after all, a future teacher of innocent young children had to be a person of a high moral standard. Not a prude, certainly, but a woman who knew how to control her own emotions.
With a blush, she suddenly found herself wondering if Bill had had anything to do with any other women while in the Orient. She bravely decided that it was possible. There was no point in being naive. After all, the man had been a soldier, but she resolved to forgive him anyway, and never, never to ask.