Chapter 6

Cathy looked at herself in the mirror beside the front door, and then kissed her father good-bye. She danced out the front door, looking like a young girl, carefree, on an important date.

She had taken special care to make herself attractive this evening. She was wearing one of her best dresses, and even her lingerie was specially chosen. She had borrowed some of her mother's French perfume. It had made her feel guilty to see the indulgent look on her mother's face when she had asked for the perfume. If only this date was what her parents thought it was. As she got into Doug's car, she glanced back and saw her parents standing in the front room, fondly watching her through the window. Her father had an arm around her mother's waist, and they seemed to be remembering their own youth. It made Cathy want to cry.

But she smiled instead. She looked at Doug, looking slightly uncomfortable in a dark blue suit, and gave him her most dazzling smile. She slid across the seat until her hip was in gentle contact with his, and felt the response in his body.

"Hi," she said, looking straight up into his face. He was very tall, towering over her even in the sitting position. "Have you decided where you're taking me?"

"Well, I thought we could get a paper and look at the movie section-"

"I don't need a paper. If it's up to me, I'd like to go to the Sky-Vue. They're showing a good double bill."

"I know. The same pictures are showing at the Strand in town, though."

"Oh, why tramp into a walk-in and sit mashed in with a lot of other people? I think it's much more comfortable in a drive-in, don't you?"

"Well, if you want," he said, and then, warming up to the idea, "Yeah, sure, that sounds great."

He drove them to the drive-in, trying to make small talk. He seemed a little nervous, which surprised Cathy. As popular as he was with girls, she couldn't imagine why he should suddenly be nervous around her. But she helped him out as much as she could, talking with him, laughing just the right amount at his little jokes, and above all smiling at him all the time, flashing white teeth and blue eyes at him, and always maintaining some physical contact with him. She kept her hip lightly against his, and from time to time laid a hand lightly on his arm while she was talking to him. She could see the effect it was having on him, and she could hardly keep from feeling the kind of contempt she always felt for the men who paid to go to bed with her. He was just like the rest of them. All men were, she supposed. All except Bart, she thought with grudging respect. He made other people pay. He made the Johns pay, and he even made her pay. She hated his guts, but she had to respect him. No one got the better of him.

While they were riding, she looked surreptitiously about the car. It was a Buick, about two years old. No doubt his father's. That was good. She had been afraid it might be a small car. She was going to have to get laid in this car tonight, she thought. The bigger it was, the more comfortable she would be.

She looked up at Doug as he was paying the girl for the tickets, and felt a surprising twist of excitement. At least he was in her age group and good-looking. If she had to lay for men at Bart's bidding, it was pleasant to be doing it with someone she could feel some desire for once in a while.

"Let's not get too close to the screen, Doug," she said, looking up at him prettily. "I like to park way in the back. It's easier on my eyes." And they would be harder to spot.

"Okay," Doug said, and his agreement was so casual she was sure he hadn't any notion of her reason for wanting to be at the back of the theater. They parked in the middle of the last row and Doug got the speaker and hung it on the door. It was playing music at the moment. Cathy remembered what Bart had said. She leaned across Doug's body and adjusted the volume of the speaker, turning it down a bit. She took a little longer than necessary, pretending to grope for the volume control. She made certain her breasts were pressed against the front of Doug's suit for several seconds, then, when she slid back to a sitting position, she let the breasts slip over his chest without decreasing the pressure at all. He turned a little red in the face at the contact, and she caught a quick glance at the lump forming in his pants. She was turning him on, all right, she thought with a mixture of guilt and triumph. She looked up into his face and pretended to notice for the first time his discomfort.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I wrinkled your suit, didn't I? I'm sorry, honey." She used the endearing address deliberately, but pretended not to notice she had said it. She also pretended to be concerned about his suit, which really wasn't wrinkled at all. She smoothed it with her hand, actually petting him through the cloth, letting her hand stroke and awaken him. Doug seemed almost ready to come unglued. He sat stiffly.

"No, no, that's all right, Cathy, really. It's not wrinkled." She ignored him, continuing to move her hand over his chest and belly, pretending to smooth the suit. Finally, in desperation, he grasped her hand to pull it away. He was breathing like a steam engine. It tickled Cathy to see his discomfort. When he grabbed her hand, she turned it instantly, pressing her open palm against his, then laced her fingers through his own.

"Okay, Doug," she said sweetly. "Whatever you say, honey." She snuggled closer to him and looked at the screen as the previews started. They sat there for a while. She was sure Doug wasn't concentrating on the movie at all. He sat there, a little more relaxed than before, but still nervous. After a while, she simulated a shiver. "It's kind of cold," she said.

"I could start the engine and run the heater for a while," he said. Cathy almost laughed aloud at that. He was really dense. She raised his hand over her head and circled her own shoulders with his arm.

"Oh, no, don't bother," she said. "This is nicer." She snuggled against him, really enjoying the nearness of his body. She felt a kind of tenderness for him. He was so damned innocent. She hadn't believed that possible for a boy like him. But at the same time she felt desire, sharp, physical desire. She had learned to feel sexual desire in the past months, desire even for men who were repulsive to her. She had learned to take the sex act simply as something physical, with no emotional meaning at all, and so she had been able to get through the mechanics of it even with Bart, a man she loathed. But this was different. She had taught herself to want the other men because she had to give herself to them, like it or not. With Doug, she wanted him for no other reason than the desire itself. She wondered if she were going soft on him? She'd have to watch that.

The thought of the needle hardened her a little. She felt fine now, normal and comfortable, because Bart had given her a fix this afternoon. But how would she feel tomorrow? And the next day? Hate him or not, she needed Bart, and he knew it. She simply couldn't do without him. So, she thought with a kind of jaded resignation, Doug would have to be sacrificed. Whatever it was she was beginning to feel for him would have to die now, before it was born. She hoped he enjoyed tonight's little tussle. Because he was certainly going to pay for it.

After a while, Cathy laid her head against Doug's chest. She knew from previous experience the effect that could have on a man. She also knew her mother's perfume would have its own effect. She could feel him warm up more than ever. After a moment she lifted her head and looked up at him, putting all the worshipful yearning into her eyes she could. He hesitated, started to lean forward, hesitated again. Cathy was beginning to feel some annoyance with him. He didn't have to be that much of a gentleman, did he? How strong a signal did he want, for Christ's sake? She parted her lips and ran a soft, pink tongue over them, adding glistening moisture to the little bit of pink lipstick she was wearing. Doug's hot, quick breathing seemed to fill the car, to make a wind tunnel of it. Then, finally, he ducked his head down to kiss her. She could tell from the quick, jerky action of the kiss that he intended it to be a quick one, just an exploration to see if she would object. Cathy shot a hand up and clamped it behind his head, pulling him down to her. She opened her mouth and slipped her tongue between his lips and teeth. The effect was more than she had expected. He was really primed, really turned on, and now he grabbed her to him, his arms holding her body tightly. Cathy slipped her other arm up around his neck too, holding him to her, pressing her mouth tighter against his. She could feel his cock stiffen, nudge her. She didn't have to simulate desire this time. It was real enough. He was turning her on almost as much as she was him. It was going to be easy this time, she thought. He was nice, really. Why not give herself up to things and enjoy this night? It would make it nicer for him, too, while the nice part lasted. The more she turned on, the better time she would be able to show him. And since he was going to pay such a horrible price for this night, why shouldn't she make it as wild and gratifying for him as she could?

With this rationale in her mind, she let herself go. Her hands slipped under his suit coat and began to move over his chest, and then around to his rib cage. She felt his warmth through his shirt, and her mouth worked quickly, expertly, over his face and neck. Then, when she could feel him grow a little bit worried, as the fog in which she had placed him cleared just enough for his brain to take charge again, she would clamp her mouth over his, kiss him deeply, working her tongue hard, whipping him up to a new and powerful excitement.

It wasn't hard, really. He came alive to her easily once she had made her body's demands known. He began to answer her clumsily. His hands moved over her body, diffidently at first, as though he still expected her to object. Then, as his mind retreated behind the fog of need that was enveloping it, the hands began to take on a life of their own, and a volition of their own. They groped over her without reserve or restraint. She could feel his fingers, trembling with desire, moving over her dress, and she hugged herself closer to him, showing him that far from objecting to his touch, she craved it. She had never known it could be like this between a boy and a girl. She had only known the kind of sex she shared with her Johns or Bart. One bought and paid for her services, the other commanded them. She had never known she could feel the kind of emotions that were coursing through her at this moment. She pulled his shirt loose from his pants, slipped her hands under it, and began to stroke him again. He was still wearing an undershirt, and she dragged it loose impatiently to stroke his skin.

The touch of her hands kindled his passion. She had never made love to a boy his age before, and she hadn't known this kind of virility was possible. The mere realization of that fact brought Cathy herself more to life. She reached down and plucked one of his hands off her waist. He tried to pull the hand away from her, doubtless thinking this was the rebuff he had feared all along. But Cathy thrust the hand downward, placing it on her thigh. She was wearing pantyhose, but still the touch of his hand sent her head into a spin. It was almost like having his hand on her bare leg. She could tell the reaction in him was just as powerful. His breathing was so rapid now it would have scared her if she hadn't heard breathing like that a hundred times already, heard it close up in her ear. It was a sound she had learned to know, to expect and to dread. But now she found it enjoyable. Beautiful, even. It excited her all the more. She slid the hand up the length of her thigh until it slid under her miniskirt and rested on one cheek of her ass.

Doug made a strangled cry, as though something had hurt him. He sounded wounded almost. The desire she had kindled in him was more intense than she had anticipated. Cathy started to quickly unbutton his shirt. At the same time she continued to kiss and mouth his face and neck, keeping him turned on. When he began to withdraw his hand from her ass, she replaced it there. He was really nervous, she thought with annoyance. Didn't he know yet she intended him to be as familiar with her as possible? She reached down and slipped her pantyhose down. She wasn't wearing any other garment in that region, and it left her naked there. She slid his hand onto her ass again, and it sent a trembling fit over his body. She felt a mixture of tenderness and amusement. It was a strange combination of feelings. But she couldn't help either of them. He was so innocent, she thought. The big man on the campus, and he didn't even know how to act when a girl tried to rape him. She wondered if he had told all the stories boys were known for telling, about the whores he had had and all that. He was trembling not only with desire now, but with nervousness, almost with fear. This was his first time, she was sure of that, and of course he was afraid of butchering things, of being inadequate.

Don't worry, little darling, she thought. I'll take care of everything. Don't worry, you'll be just fine. You 'll be great.

His shirt was open, and she went to work on his pants. First his belt had to be opened, and then she tried to yank loose the snap at the top of the pants. But it wasn't a snap. It was a hook, and she almost tore the pants. She unhooked it, using both hands, and then, holding the top of the garment together, worked the zipper down. The rasping sound of the opening metal teeth added to her excitement. She could feel the big lump in his shorts, and now, when she touched it with her hand, even the shape of his cock was obvious. She could feel the glans, could even feel some dampness in the cotton shorts. She felt as though her head would come off at any moment. She didn't think she would ever be able to feel the detached contempt for her Johns she had known. She knew, now, the kind of emotions they felt, the kind of desire that came from having one's arms close to an attractive member of the opposite sex. Her blood was pounding through her veins like something a boil. Her skin was hot, and she could feel sweat breaking out on her, almost as though she needed a fix.

She finally found the opening in front of Doug's shorts and thrust her hand inside. His cock jerked, and she knew he had almost come all over her hand. She had to take it easy, she thought dully. She had to help him hold back until she could get that lovely thing inside of her where it belonged.

Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from his cock, pulling it clear away from that part of him. The cock was out in the air now, and she could see it in the dim light. The sight excited her all the more, and for a moment she had a crazy desire to french him. She had never wanted to do that before. She hadn't thought a woman could like such a thing. It was something she did for men because they liked it, because they had paid for it, and because she didn't have any acceptable alternative. But for just a moment she felt a deep, pinching desire to kiss that organ, to take it into her mouth and....

But she shook it off. That would ruin everything. Doug was a fish, but surely even he wouldn't fall for the idea of an innocent girl, succumbing to his charms, suddenly sucking his cock. She withdrew from him a little, shook her head to clear it, and then began to work on his clothes again. By this time he was helping her, but only semi-effectively. He seemed to lack coordination, as though his muscles weren't properly obeying his brain. But the little help he was able to give her helped a lot, and in a few moments she had his pants and shorts down past his hips. She pulled them clear down to his knees and then pulled her skirt up. Locking her hand around his neck, she laid back, pulling him on top of her. His body was rigid with excitement and need. She tried to spread her legs for him, but her pantyhose, only partially pulled down, restricted them. She pulled her knees up a little forcing their bodies apart, and thrust the pantyhose down more. They were around her knees. She tried to push them down farther, but it was hard to do. Then she received some unexpected help from Doug. His hands grasped the nylon and yanked. She felt a cutting sensation at the backs of her knees, as the edge of the pantyhose dug painfully into her skin, and heard a tearing sound. He yanked again, and there was another tearing sound. But the panties didn't give way completely. But Doug's determination was strong. Finally, he yanked the material down her legs and dropped them to the floor. His hands moved up the length of her body first, and the pantyhose landed on the floor of the car near the point of the seat where her head was resting. She opened her legs for him then, tangling one foot in the floor pedals to secure herself, while she raised her other leg a little, pushing it up the back of the seat.

But having gone that far, he seemed too inexperienced to know what to do next. Or perhaps his urgency had been overtaken by his nervousness again. Doug lay atop her, his body throbbing and pitching. His cock, stiff and hard, was thrust between her thighs, and Cathy reached down, sliding her hands between his body and her own, to take the organ in her fingers. He let out a grunt of pleasure, a grunt that almost sounded as though he were in pain, and she hurried to insert him into her. The connection had to be made quickly, or he was going to have nothing to show for this night but a messy car seat. She thrust the cock into her, and he let out another grunt, this one almost a scream, and then they were locked together.

Cathy's need, her urgent sexual desire, was greater than ever, now that he was actually in her. She placed her hands on his ass and pulled, driving him deeper into her body. He made another sound, and his hands clamped down on her shoulder. Then he was groping over her body, feeling her through the dress she was still wearing. Her skirt was up above her hips, but she hadn't had time to undress for him.

Anyway, this would be better. It would seem more like the kind of thing she might do because she just couldn't help herself. She felt his hands through the bra she was wearing, and wished for a moment the bra weren't there. But she didn't have time to worry about that detail for long. Suddenly, he was thrusting his hips, driving into her, and she answered him expertly. He was clumsy, new at the sex game, but he was a young and powerful male, and the pleasure flooded through Cathy's body in waves. She began to cry out, her voice coming in little gasps of joy. She had felt physical pleasure before, but at the same time there was an emotional attachment with this boy. She felt something she could only imagine was love. At least at this moment she loved him. She worked her left leg around his waist, turning it and bending her knees. She would have liked to do the same thing with her right leg, but it was on the floor, and she was afraid that without the support it was giving them, she wouldn't be able to keep from slipping off the narrow car seat. This was the first time she had ever fucked in a car. It was damned inconvenient, but at the same time there was something nice about it, something extra exciting. Their hips ground together again and again.

It wasn't as good as she had expected, of course. She should have realized that as excited as he was, it wouldn't take long for him to go off. She managed one weak orgasm, but long before she could reach the main event, the hot come flooded into her body and she cried out automatically, simulating the completion she didn't feel, as she had done so many times for the Johns. At the same time Doug gave a grunt, and then another, and then a third. His body continued to drive against her, surprisingly, and finally he let out one hell of a whoop and stopped.

Cathy could feel his cock going soft in her. She lay there for a moment, under him, trying to shake off the frustration she felt. Then she caught herself, remembered the role she was supposed to play, and started to cry. The tears came easily. She let herself wallow in the emotions that were going through her now, the frustration and the pity for him and for herself, the regret over what she had become. Her body began to shake with hard, racking sobs.

There were two Cathys for a moment then. She could lie there and wallow in her emotions, cry and really feel the things that were making her cry. At the same time another Cathy hung above her, looking down in amused admiration at the show she was putting on.

It took a few moments for Doug to become fully aware of his surroundings. He seemed out of it for a long while. But when he realized she was crying, he stiffened all at once and clambered off her. He got up from the seat, pushing her knees aside to give him room. The gesture looked as though he were trying to get away from her. He sat there for a moment, and then seemed to become aware for the first time that his pants and shorts were down around his ankles. He pulled them up quickly, fastened his pants and pulled the zipper up, then buckled his belt. Cathy lay there for a moment before she sat up. She pulled her skirt down around her thighs, tugging at it hard, as though trying to make the brief skirt longer. Then she reached down and took the pantyhose from the floor. She balled them up as small as she could, and searched for her purse. It was on the floor. She managed to stuff the pantyhose into it, although it bulged a lot. The snap of the purse was surprisingly loud. The way Doug jerked, it almost seemed as though she had slapped him.

"Cathy," he said. "I'm-"

"Take me home." She spoke in a dull, inflectionless tone. She was sitting as far from him as she could get.

"But I just-"

She spoke without looking at him. "Are you going to take me home now, or am I going to walk?" She looked at him with fire in her eyes. "I thought girls only had to do that when they didn't put out!" She spat the last two words at him. The effect was the same as though she had hit him. He jerked back a little, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. It made Cathy feel a little guilty, but at the same time it brought a fresh feeling of triumph. She had been a pawn of so many men, and in particular of Bart. Now she was getting even a bit with the male sex. She was getting even through Doug.

"Oh no, Cathy, it's not like that at all," he said. He started to move toward her, to reach for her. Cathy shrank back against the door. She felt an urge to come to him, to let him embrace and comfort her, but she fought it down. This wasn't the time to show any tender regard for him.

"Keep away from me," she ordered, although by that time he was already moving away from her again. The sight of her pulling back had been enough to discourage him. "I want to go home now," Cathy cried, letting her voice go up a couple of registers. Doug looked at her a moment, then opened his window and replaced the speaker on the stand outside the car.

The next day he called her. When her mother told her about the call, she said she didn't want to speak to him. "Why not?" Cathy's mother asked with a strong note of suspicion in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Mother. I just don't feel like talking to him."

"Now, that will be enough of that, young lady. When a boy is nice enough to call you up after taking you out for an evening and spending his money on you, the least you can do is talk to him."

"But I don't want to!"

"None of your lip, girl. You just get down to that phone and be nice to that boy. March!"

"Oh, really, Mother!" Cathy rose from the bed and stamped downstairs to the phone in the hall. "Hello, Doug," she said, her voice dripping with resentment. Then, as she became aware of her mother's presence, she injected more welcome into her tone. "How are you this morning?"

"Miserable," Doug's voice said across the wire. "I just couldn't wait till Mass was over so I could come home and call and tell you how sorry I am about last night." He was speaking in a low, barely audible voice, and she guessed he was calling from home.

"It's all right," she said. "And I had a very good time."

There was a moment's silence. "Is someone listening to you?" he asked at last. "Oh, sure. All the time."

"Maybe we could get together for a little while, Cathy. I want to apologize, and, well, I'd like to see you some more."

Cathy's mother, apparently deciding that she was doing the right thing, walked out of the hall toward the kitchen.

"I'll just bet you'd like to see me some more," Cathy said acidly. "Now that you've found an easy lay, you don't want to let her slip through your fingers until you're thoroughly bored with her."

"Cathy, please don't talk like that. I didn't do it on purpose, honestly."

"I suppose you think it was my fault."

"No, no, it's not that. I just meant that, well, it just happened. I know I have to take the blame, and I do. I should have stopped. But I just lost my head. Can't I see you for a few minutes, Cathy? Please?"

"No, you can't. And I'll appreciate it if you'll stop calling me."

"Cathy, you've got to see me," he begged. Then his voice took on a desperate, threatening tone. "If you don't, I'll call back. I'll keep on calling and calling, bugging you and your folks until they figure out something's wrong."

"Don't you dare do that!" Cathy whispered harshly. The fear in her voice wasn't false now. She remembered the suspicious note in her mother's voice when she had asked Cathy why she didn't want to talk to Doug. It wouldn't take long for that kind of suspicion to build up into something dangerous. Her parents had always trusted Cathy, but parents seemed to have a sixth sense about some things. And she had a lot more to hide than the fact that she had screwed for Doug Radcliffe in a drive-in movie.

"I will," he said resolutely. "I'll keep it up until you agree to see me. Or until everything comes out."

"You wouldn't dare. It would get you into as much trouble as me. More, in fact. I'm under age, you know."

"I don't care. I'll do it anyway. I swear I will. Cathy, all I'm asking you to do is see me once. And if you don't want to see me any more after that, I'll get lost. I swear I will."

"And if I refuse, you'll get us both hung?"

"That's right," Doug said, his voice regaining its former hard ring.

"You don't leave me much choice. Let me talk to my parents. I'll have to have their permission, you know."

"Sure. I'll hang on."

Cathy put the phone down and went into the kitchen. Her father was sitting drinking a cup of coffee, and her mother was washing something in the sink.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Cathy's mother asked.

"He wants to see me today. He wants to pick me up and go somewhere."

"Well, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't, dear," her mother said. Her father nodded acquiescence. "He's a very nice boy," Cathy's mother went on. "And his parents are lovely. Of course, it's up to you."

Doug came by for her a half-hour later. Cathy was wearing a simple skirt and blouse, and the moment she saw his car she went out to meet him. She carried the same purse she'd had the night before. She had intended to see him again, of course. Having hooked him, she had to reel him in. But the way he had insisted, and threatened and blackmailed her, made it seem all the more like his idea. The poor darling boob, she thought. He was really playing into her hands.

She got into the car and sat as far from him as she could.

"I thought we'd drive out to the picnic grounds. We can talk there," he said. And then, when she didn't bother to answer him, "Is that all right with you, Cathy?"

"Don't ask me. You're the lord and master. I'm here under duress, remember?" She waited a moment, then said, "I don't care where we go, just so you keep your hands to yourself. And let's get it over with."

"All right," Doug said with a sigh. He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

The countryside looked lovely. Cathy sat enjoying the scenery and talking as little as possible. When they reached the picnic grounds he pulled the car in and set the brake. The engine died with a sigh. He turned to her and started to say something.

"Let's get out of the car," Cathy said. "I don't trust either of us in close quarters like this." She opened her door and got out, and he got out on his side. They walked a little distance and then Cathy sat on the ground, spreading her little skirt around her as demurely as possible. The miniskirt still revealed her legs well above her knees, and she could see the effect that was having on Doug. "All right," she said to him. "You wanted to say something to me. So say it and let's get out of here."

He sat on the ground, not too near her, but as close as he dared. "Cathy, I just wanted to tell you that what happened last night wasn't something-casual. It meant a whole lot to me. Honest. I-I love you." He said the last words in a shaky, embarrassed voice.

Cathy stared at him for a long moment before she said anything. Tears flooded her eyes, and when she spoke there was a break in her voice. "Don't say that! That's terrible! To say that to a girl just to get another chance to-to-Well, it won't do you any good!" She congratulated herself on a very effective performance, and at the same time hated herself because the tears, and the break in her voice, were real. She started to rise, but her legs had grown stiff from the position in which she had been sitting.

Doug reached toward her, then caught himself.

"Cathy, please! I mean it. Can't you trust me, just alittle?"

"I trusted you last night! I knew you were a big man with the girls. I knew I wasn't the only one who was crazy about you. But I thought you were a gentleman at least."

"I am. Cathy, honest. I-"

Cathy opened her purse and yanked out the panty hose he had ripped the night before. She held them up in one trembling hand. "Does this look like the work of a gentleman, Doug? Is that the kind of thing a gentleman would do?" She threw them in his face, and he caught them as they fell. "Keep them," she shrieked at him. "Tack them to your wall, or fly them from your car aerial. Maybe you'd like me to autograph them for you!" She stopped to catch her breath, and suddenly her body was racked by sobs. She lay face down on the ground and covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Doug, how could you? How could you do it?" She lay there crying for a long time, wondering whether he was going to react the way she wanted him to. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder, light, diffident.

"Cathy, honey, please don't cry. Please, darling, I'm sorry. Honest I am." He stroked her hair with his other hand, and suddenly she came up and threw her arms around him, clinging to him as though he were a lifeline.

"Oh, Doug, I love you too, really I do. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't. I wouldn't have done it for any other boy. You have to believe that!"

"Of course I believe it, honey. Of course I do." But his voice was full of wonder, as though he couldn't really believe that she could love him. His arms tightened about her, holding her close to him, and for the first time in her life Cathy knew what it was to feel warm and protected and precious in a man's arms.

There was something else there, too, though. Other feelings were pressing forward, strong physical and emotional feelings. Cathy could feel desire flooding through her. She wanted Doug, now, this minute. At first she tried to quell the need, but then the thought struck her that it couldn't do any harm. It could bind him to her all the more strongly. She raised her face to his, and he kissed her. His kiss was a tender one, meant more to comfort her than to arouse either of them. But Cathy didn't let it stay that way. She opened her mouth and pressed her tongue into his. She felt him respond immediately. His arms tightened about her, crushing her breasts against him. Cathy stroked his face with her hands while she continued the kiss, then, finally, broke off.

She pulled away from him. He looked at her guiltily, and started to say something, some apology. She cut him off by crossing his lips with a finger. She pulled farther away from him and began to unbutton her blouse. When he looked surprised, she smiled at him. "It's all right, darling," she said softly. "Really, it's all right." She unbuttoned the blouse and took it off while he sat, enraptured, looking at her. She reached behind her and opened the clasps of her bra. When the bra came off, and her breasts were revealed to him, he turned red all at once. She smiled at him, filled with both tenderness and amusement. She came up on her knees and opened the side of her skirt. It fell down around her knees and lay there while she paused a moment and then pushed her panties down after it. She sat down again, pulled the two garments off of her feet and tossed them aside. She looked at Doug. He stared at her nakedness for a long time before he caught himself. Then he began to undress. In a moment he was as naked as she. He looked a little embarrassed at his own nudity, though hers didn't seem to embarrass him at all. He stared at her with fascination. Cathy took him in her arms and pulled him toward her. She lay back, covering her body with his. He felt strong and smooth and sweet there. It was the most natural feeling she could imagine. His cock thrust between her thighs, and she felt a powerful desire at the touch of it.

She kissed him again, then ran her mouth over his face and neck. He shivered with desire at the touch of her mouth, and then he was clutching her, holding her tightly against him even as his weight drove her down into the ground.

She could feel the unevenness of the ground under her, found it exciting. She took her arms from about his neck and slid them down, her hands reaching his cock. He gasped with pleasure at the touch of her fingers, and then she inserted the cock into her, and he drove down, pushing it deep. Cathy gave a little cry of pleasure. She felt a warmth flooding through her, a warmth of desire and pleasure, and something softer and more tender than either of those feelings. She had never known this kind of thing. Even the sex they had had the night before wasn't quite like this. That had been a frantic thing, with little time for the tenderness that had made itself felt. This was different. This was something she had fallen into naturally, without planning it in advance. This was the kind of sex she had always heard occurred between a man and a woman who loved each other. After the hundred odd men who had paid for the use of her body in the past months, she hadn't believed there was anything else, any kind of sex except the contemptible, dirty, pawings of a customer, or the casual, brutal commandeering of her body by Bart.

Doug's cock seemed to swell all the more now that it was in her. He began to move his hips, dragging the rod of flesh through her, stroking her insides with it, and at the same time she could feel his body responding to the pleasure that was filling both of them.

"Oh, Cathy," he gasped in her ear. "Oh, God, Cathy. I love you, darling." The words were warm in Cathy's ear. She felt an overwhelming tenderness for Doug. Her hands went lightly across his cheek and up over his head. She could smell shampoo in his hair. Then he began to move his hips slightly. He was learning, she thought. He was learning how to screw.

She didn't know, really, what Bart's plans for Doug were. She had an idea, though. And he'd need all the talent and skill she could give him, if she was right.

He began to increase the speed and force of his thrusts, and she could feel the tingling pleasure grow more powerful. She heard a little moan, and realized a second later she had made the sound herself. "Ohhh," she moaned, and the pleasure grew in her with each thrust of Doug's hips. The cock stroked through her, bringing her more and more pleasure with each movement. She began to answer him with thrusts of her own hips. Her arms tightened about his neck, hugging him to her. She could feel his cheek, with just a suggestion of whiskers, against hers. His ear moved close to her mouth, and she nibbled at it automatically. Doug's body moved a little on her, and one strong hand slid between them to grasp one of her breasts. Cathy gasped and her hips moved again, thrusting up at him automatically, her body pushing closer to the source of its pleasure. She felt the joy in her rise to a peak, and then she had an orgasm. It wasn't a big one, not a massive, complete one, but it was a little peak of pleasure that egged her on, drove her to thrust with greater and greater force. She could feel Doug's body begin to grow rigid as his own orgasm came, and then she knew it was near as his belly began the little convulsive movements that meant he was about to erupt. Her own body responded with a pleasure that was almost too great to bear. She raised her legs and locked them about his small, hard waist. She could feel the pleasure in her peaking, and this time she knew it would be the main event, the big one, the fulfilling, completing orgasm. When it came it was awesome. She had never felt anything like it before. She hadn't known that anything like that could happen. It was nothing like the orgasms she had known with the customers or with Bart. It was something compounded of the elements of those other orgasms and a powerful emotional response as well. She cried out hard in his ear, and heard his answering grunt of joy, and the grunting, the sound that had always disgusted her when it came from those other men, was somehow sweet to her, musical and beautiful and satisfying. She gripped him to her all the harder for a moment, with her arms and her legs, and then the pleasure was over. She felt her body grow limp with exhaustion. She had never felt so sated before. She felt beautiful and complete.

Doug withdrew from her after a while. He lay beside her and stared up at the fleecy sky. He soon rose on one elbow and looked down at her. He looked a bit worried, as though he thought she might blame him for this sex act, too. She smiled up at him reassuringly and traced a line across his cheek with her finger. "That was really something, wasn't it?" she said softly.

He grinned suddenly. "Yeah. It was something, all right." The grin faded, and he looked concerned again.

"What's the matter?" she asked dreamily.

"I guess I'm still a little scared, honey. I don't want you to think I got you out here just so this would happen."

"It's all right, Doug. Don't worry about it. I wanted it to happen. If I hadn't, I don't suppose I'd have come here with you."

"Really? You mean that?"

"Of course, darling."

"You were so mad at me about the time last night-"

"I wasn't really mad at you, Doug. I guess I was just mad at myself. I was afraid I'd been too easy. I thought you'd hate me for that."

"Hate you? Oh, Cathy, how could anyone ever hate you?"

You'll learn, Cathy thought. You'll find out how to hate me, baby. She shoved the thought from her mind. This was a good time, at least for him. Why ruin it? She had dreamed all her life about something like this happening. Now, for this little while, at least, she wanted to pretend it was real. To pretend she was still the kind of girl to whom it could possibly happen.

"I love you, Cathy," he said, and bent down and kissed her. "I love you more than I can say."

Cathy felt tears flood her eyes, and she shook inwardly. This was no good. She couldn't let this kind of thing go on. She couldn't let herself love this boy. She was here to trap him, to destroy him, and no matter how much she hated it, she would have to go through with that destruction. There was nothing else she could do.

She smiled up at him and gestured with her hand. "Hand me my purse, will you, darling?" she asked. He reached back and got the purse, handed it to her. Trying to look as casual as she could, Cathy took out a reefer and lit it with a match from a book she kept in her purse. He looked at her with surprise.

"I didn't know you smoked," he said. She had to laugh at that. Then he got a whiff of the smoke and the look of surprise turned to one of consternation. "Hey, that isn't tobacco."

"Of course not, silly. Tobacco is bad for you. Haven't you heard?"

"Cathy! I didn't-"

"You want to join me?"

"Huh? But, Cathy, it's-"

"Grass, dear. Of course. I smoke them from time to time. A lot of kids do. They won't hurt you."

"But Cathy!"

"Don't look so shocked. Is it any more sinful than what we just did together?"

"Well, no, but I-"

"Well, I don't think what we did together was any sin at all. It was too nice to be a sin. And so is this. It's a nice, quiet feeling. And it helps the other thing, too. You ought to try it." She held out the reefer to him, and he turned his face away. "Never mind," she said. "I just thought you'd like to try it. Then we could do the other thing again."

He looked down at her with desire in his eyes. "Couldn't we do that anyway?"

"I don't think so, honey." She started to get up. He stopped her, taking her by the arm.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice half-pleading, half-panic.

"Doug, it was nice while it lasted, even if it was only a little while. I really have a feeling for you, and I guess you did for me, too. But we're not the same kind, I guess. I'm not going to give my body to a boy who despises me."

"Despise you! Are you kidding?"

"You do now. You think you're better than I am because I blow a little pot."

"No, I don't," he said, but he didn't look her in the eyes as he said it. She forced herself to smile.

"You see? You can't look at me when you say that. You want me again, but you only want my body. You don't really love me. You look down on me."

"That's not true! I was just surprised, that's all. If you like to smoke that stuff, I don't guess there's anything really wrong with it. I mean, as long as it doesn't lead to stronger stuff."

Cathy sat staring at him, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the idea that I looked down on you for it, honey. I don't really...."

"Then prove it." She stared at him, and he started to look away again. Cathy caught his chin in her hand and turned his face back to hers. "Prove it," she repeated. "I love you, Doug, but I'm not going to go around apologizing to you for my habits. I'm not doing anything wrong. And if you're too good to join me in a little innocent pleasure of one sort, then I don't think we should share any kind."

That really panicked him. He tried not to show it, of course, but she could see that she had really gotten to him with that shot. She hated herself, but she steeled her will. He had to be brought into things. Bart had told her to do this, and she had to do what Bart wanted. Besides, it was a way to get rid of some of the debt she owed him, and just as soon as she had eliminated that debt, she was going to kiss Bart good-bye forever. She was going to go somewhere alone and kick the habit, and then she was going to become the kind of girl she had been all over again. So she stared Doug down. Finally, he shrugged.

"Well, if it means that much to you, I don't suppose it can do any harm." He sat there, not looking at her, and not reaching for the reefer. Cathy nudged him.

"Then take it."

He gingerly took the reefer and took a drag. He didn't do it right, but he got some of the smoke into his lungs. He coughed a bit, and then looked at her, and Cathy gestured to him to do it again. He took another drag, and then another. In a little while she could see the effects of it. She could see he was beginning to enjoy it.

And then she knew, with a mixture of relief and disappointment, that she was going to win. She was going to make him into the same kind of thing she had become.