Chapter 4

Bob Anderson hadn't seen his old buddy, Charlie Johnson, for three months. They had both worked for the same oil company, Textron, and were both in Iran, but somehow their paths never crossed after the first week.

Charlie had done some geological work and then was sent back to New York. When Bob ar­rived, his old buddy Charlie was at the door to meet him.

"Man, you look good," said Charlie, shaking hands.

Bob was a physical fitness enthusiast. He pri­ded himself on keeping fit. Charlie, on the other hand, hated exercise or at least he hated the jog­ging and weightlifting crowd. His idea of exercise was working ten hours a day at the office and then going back to his penthouse to have a small orgy with the teenage girls that always parked them­selves on his doorstep. "We had some good times in Teheran," Bob said.

'Those cathouses were something," said Charlie expansively. He leaned his chair back against the thick safety glass window. Forty stories below was Madison Avenue, with throngs of busy people hurrying in all directions. Bob hated the city. It | was expensive and dirty and congested and falling apart. Even the old expression, "It's a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there," had a false ring to it. Now the city wasn't even worth a visit.

A young secretary walked in with a pile of unopened mail to place on Charlie's desk. Bob stared at her long, shapely legs and her trim waist and curving bustline. She was twenty six, with the looks of an aspiring actress. He imagined her naked. Underneath the thin pantsuit and I sheer panties was flawless skin, smooth as velvet. Her pubes were gentle pink mounds, no doubt, and as she bent slightly to put the mail down, he wondered what her vulva was like. Pro­bably a nice smooth mound with a shag of scented pubic hair covering the swollen red lips of her cunt, he decided.

"Your mail, Mr. Johnson," the secretary said, very professional. She was not cold and business like, but she wasn't very warm either. She was sexy enough to give him a swelling in his crotch, but then every pretty girl turned Bob on. It's just the way he was.

"Honey, damn, I forgot your name," said Charlie, turning slightly in his chair. At the same time he gave Bob a knowing wink. "You dropped one on the floor."

"Indeed I did," said the secretary. She stooped over to fetch the white envelope, her dress rising several inches above the knee. It was hardly a suggestive motion on the secretary's part, but suddenly, Charlie's hand reached between her pearly white thighs and pushed up along her leg. His hand disappeared into her clothing. Bob sat watching it all, his wide open eyes seeing Charlie groping the girl's twat, but his mind refused to believe it.

But Charlie was. And from the position of his arm and the girl's bent figure, Charlie's finger just had to be up her cunt! My God, Bob thought. He's gone mad!

The secretary came alive as if jabbed in the ass by a pin. She leaped forward. "YAAAAAM!" she screamed. She turned around, appalled and fright­ened. It didn't really happen, she was thinking. It just didn't!

Charlie was chuckling. He held his finger up and took a sniff.

"Baby, you may be new to Textron Oil," he said matter of factly, "but that's one nice pussy." He licked his fingers lasciviously.

The secretary stumbled backward. "You bas­tard," she said, finding her voice. She had been too stunned to speak. "You filthy, lecherous bastard! I hope you rot in hell."

She slammed the door, leaving Charlie at his desk licking his fingers before a surprised Bob An­derson. "You can't do that shit," Bob blurted out.

"This isn't Iran, Charlie. This is New York, a soph­isticated city."

Indeed, New York was the biggest, most soph­isticated city in the United States. It was the place where the money was made, where the corporate deals affecting the lives of millions of people were drawn up, and where the beautiful people lived and screwed each other.

If New York had lost some of the tinsel and glamour that was associated with wealth and sophis­tication, it still had plenty of clout. The Big Apple would not put up with the crass lack of panache that Americans, especially those rawboned types who worked for oil companies, exhibited overseas. You didn't walk down the street sticking your hand between a woman's legs and expect to get away with it. At least not for long.

"We had some good times in Iran," Charlie ventured.

Bob didn't have to be reminded. Iran really wasn't his cup of tea. He didn't care for the curious customs of the Moslems, and if the truth were known, he was prejudiced against Arabs as a whole. They were a slimy, wretched race. When they weren't trying to kill each other, Arabs were try­ing to steal from tourists. The cities in the Middle East were filthy, the people disgusting and if there wasn't so damn much oil underneath all that worthless sand, Bob would have had no qualms about giving the whole mess over to the Israelis. Let them muck around in that godforsaken part of the world. Pave the whole bloody area with asphalt and call it a parking lot. Bob disliked the Middle East. But the dirty bastards did have some pretty children, whom they didn't mind sharing with their Western Imperialist friends.

He turned to Charlie and grinned. "Those were fine days," Bob admitted.

"Damned if they weren't," Charlie laughed. For a long moment, the two friends sat in si­lence, brought together by the memory of their adventures in Teheran.

Charlie turned in his swivel chair and said in a low, subdued voice, "Come on, Bob. I know this stinking cesspool of a city like the back of my hand. I'll show you a thing or two."

"Why not?"

Bob knew his friend and on the way down in the elevator, Bob started to worry. He wasn't sure about roaming the streets of New York look­ing for hot young pussy. He had a family back in Haven and a nice ramshackle farmhouse and a decent job that took him all around the world. An arrest now could be damaging. It was one thing to raise hell in a foreign country, but quite another to be doing the same in your own backyard. Bob didn't want to lose his wife. He didn't want to de­stroy the life he had made for himself.

"Maybe just a drink," Bob suggested.

Charlie just laughed. "Bullshit," he said, step­ping from the elevator. The doorman gave a nod as Charlie passed. "A few drinks where? In some club that charges four bucks a drink so you can get a hard on watching some cunt dance naked?" Charlie laughed. "Come on," he said. "I want to show you something."

The lot boy brought the black Ford sedan down the parking lot ramp with a screech. When Bob got in, he already had a thousand excuses not to go with his friend, but for some reason he could not make himself say no.

Charlie drove expertly through the knots of traffic that clogged the city streets. After the man Arabs in Teheran, nothing bothered him any more. There were no street lights, no signs, no traffic police. Cars were strange, silly things that ; drivers played with like toys. If you could drive ; in Iran's capital, then you could drive anywhere.

The streetlights came on. Charlie made several quick rights and a few lefts before driving down a dimly lit street with few cars on it. Up ahead, Bob saw flashing lights from several police cars.

"That's the station," Charlie said.

"What?"

Charlie laughed. "The police station," he said. "It's after six and the vice have already made their first bust for the evening."

"Why are we here?" Bob said. His blood was racing. Had his friend flipped out?

"The cops make the pinch," said Charlie, poin­ting toward the sidewalk where several girls hud­dled. "Then their pimps post bail and they get back on the streets."

Charlie pulled over to the curb and parked.

"Now we wait," he explained. "This is the best time. All the teenybopper hookers are out now. By nine, the older hookers have pushed the jailbait off their turf. Six is the best time for young | pussy."

Bob was too astonished to say anything. His pulse was up around one eighty and he was breath­ing heavily through his mouth. It took a while for the shock to wear off. My God, he thought. This is insane. I'm sitting outside a police station trying to pick up underage whores! This is unreal!

Charlie tapped him on the shoulder. Bob near­ly shot through the roof. "Easy, partner," Charlie said. "This is how things are done in New York."

A tall, thin girl, about fifteen, walked up to the car door and knocked on the window. She head a lean body and a loose, sensual way of walk­ing. Her small, well shaped breasts stuck through her skimpy blouse and even in the twilight there was no hiding her thumb size nipples. They were plump and rigid from rubbing against the blouse, or perhaps they were hard from the mouth of a lecherous New York cop.

"Open the door," Charlie said. "Let's look her over in the light."

Bob groaned as the hooker got in back. He looked in the rear view mirror, afraid to turn around. She had blonde hair, worn in loose, sexy ringlets. Her face was heavily made up, but there was no hiding her natural beauty. She had full, red lips that opened to reveal pearly white teeth and a lascivious tongue that flicked when she spoke. Her dark brown eyes sparkled brightly and Bob wondered if she wore contact lenses. She was a few pounds underweight, but other­wise she was a doll. Despite the nervousness brought on by the proximity of the cops, Bob felt passion swelling in his crotch. The whore's eyes never left his. Bob realized it was all part of the game, but it turned him on. Just looking at her pouting lips made him hard. He wanted to feel the warm sleeve of her throat sucking his prick. He realized how wrong that was, but it was foolish to lie to himself.

"Got a match?" the hooker said. She was chewing gum and snapping it into tiny bubbles with her teeth and tongue.

| "Baby, you're a dish," said Charlie, extending a lighter to the girl's cigarette. "How old are you, anyway?"

'.

"Twenty one," she answered.

'Too old," said Charlie. "We'll get somebody ! else."

; "Hold on," the hooker said defensively. "How ; old do you want me to be?"

"Fifteen," said Bob, realizing after the words left his mouth that fifteen was his daughter's age.

"All right," she said. "I'm fifteen. And if you care, my name is Jody and it's going to cost you : fifty bucks to talk to me any more."

Charlie just laughed. He was turning around. His eyes glazed over and his manner turned aggressive. Bob felt queasy. He knew Charlie well and he didn't like the way he was looking at the girl.

"Drop your blouse, honey," Charlie said. "Let me see your tits." Before she could respond, his hand came over the seat, grabbed a handful of satin blouse, and yanked.

The fabric ripped at the seams. Her small tits, with oversized nipples, popped out at Bob's startled eyes as if her fleshy mounds were mount­ed on springs.

"What the hell?" Jody said.

Charlie shut her up with a forceful slap across the face. His smile was gone.

"Now spread those thighs," he ordered. "I want to see that cunt. Come on, hike up that dress!"

Bob thought he was going to be ill. The whore was shaking with fear. She was next to the door, but there wouldn't be time to escape. Charlie could grab her by the throat and choke her half to death before she could scream.

"Get those thighs apart," he ordered.

Jody sank back in the seat. Her long thin legs spread out. Each foot touched one side of the car. Charlie reached down into Jody's curly snatch, grabbed a handful of pubic hair and pulled her hips forward.

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" Jody screamed. The poor girl was scared to death. Charlie pulled on her cunt hair like it was a handle. Bob watched, horrified as Charlie twisted his hand clockwise before releasing his hold.

Her cunt gleamed in the light. It was soft and white and the edges of her cunt lips were swollen. Bob followed the girl's cunt groove down along her snatch and through the bottom of her thighs where the ravine of her rump began.

It was a beautiful cunt. She was small and firm, which was surprising for a hooker. But then Jody was only fifteen years old. Bob went from her cunt to her bare chest. Her nipples seemed to glow in the light. They were so big and inviting that Bob wanted to reach over and start sucking.

"Well, go ahead, partner," said Charlie.

Bob snapped his head around and stared at his friend.

"I know what you're thinking," Charlie said. "We've been buddies for a long time."

Jody started to cry now and Charlie turned quickly to the backseat and slapped her twice hard across the cheek.

"Don't cry," he ordered, and Jody promptly stopped.

"Easy on her," said Bob.

"Easy, hell!" Charlie yelled. He pulled her face close, grabbing her by the neck, and squeezed until her tongue slipped between her trembling lips. He said, "Jody, dear, you're going to suck me off right this minute."

His pants were unzipped and his hard cock stuck out, flickering obscenely. Charlie pulled her head down toward the cock that stood like an obelisk from the V of his crotch.

Jody went for him. She was scared shitless,. For a moment, she thought this man was going to kill her. Fear had sapped her strength and now she was weak and helpless. There was nothing ( that could stop this man. She leaned forward and slid down the back of the seat. Her long, lean body was draped across the seat and her dress t hiked over her rump. Her mouth opened and her hot saliva met his rigid, erect shaft. Her saliva and then her tongue and then finally her sucking mouth found him.

"Hmmmm," Charlie gasped.

His cock pounded and he thought her mouth was too much and he was going to shoot his sperm down her throat right then. Maybe he had been a bit too rough with her, but certainly she had come around in a hurry. He disliked that snotty arro­gance that whores tried to pass off as dignity. He wanted women to grovel and squirm and feel fear of their masters. Charlie wasn't a sadist. He knew from experience that a woman needed a few whacks now and then to bring her around, and this Jody broad had really come around in a hurry. Her lips were going crazy on his hard shaft. She was using her mouth like a cunt on his throbbing dong. Her lips came up and down, rippling like a dream across his foreskin.

"Aaaahhh!" he groaned.

Her mouth was too damn good. It was virginal and fresh, or so it seemed. She was a whore after all, but not a very experienced one. How could anything so wonderful be experienced? She did so many wonderful things. With no warning, her tongue was curling around his hard pole like an eel. The raspy surface felt sensational, coating his foreskin with warmth. Her fingers came down and found his balls. Charlie had never allowed a woman to play with his nuts, but it felt damn good so he didn't say no. Her nails curled around his hairy sac, the tips squeezing his testicles until he groaned with ecstasy. He thought he'd die from so much pleasure. He laid his head back against the headrest and grabbed her by the ears.

"Hmmmm!" he gasped. Gently, he gripped her ears like the handles of a jar and moved her face up and down his tortured cock. It felt good using her face like a cunt! He didn't want her warm face to ever leave his crotch. It was much too nice to entrust to anyone else.

"Oh, oh! Oh!" Charlie gasped in an ecstatic burble as Jody sent chills running up his spine with tender quick licks of tongue on his penis.

Bob was cringing against the door. There were cops driving by every few minutes with fresh loads of hookers. There were girls on the street and even a few who walked by and peeked in to see what was happening.

If the girl wanted to do a hum job on Charlie, well, that was fine. A few minutes was all right Bob could wait that out. It was going to take longer than a few minutes. A hell of a lot longer! And he was scared. Tension strained his nerves to the breaking point. He couldn't help it. A knot formed in his stomach, balling him up.

He felt terrible. This Jody girl had his sym­pathy. He thought of his own daughter and felt his blood boiling. What if Mary were in a car right now being abused by some madman like Charlie?

Of course, that was different, Bob rationalized.

Jody's lips were slurping on Charlie's cock like a popsicle. He turned his head and watched her inverted face hunching his fuck stick. Charlie was drawing the girl's face down on his cock. She wasn't resisting. In fact, she was really into fucking. Her small breasts hung down. The huge nipples pointed at the ground and Bob felt another knot in his chest. This one was from anger.

All this time he had thought of his daughter Mary. Well, this girl was a whore. She was not his daughter and never could be. This Jody girl, who used her mouth like some girls used their cunts was no different than the silly Arab cunts. Char­lie had whipped them, and tonight he had beaten Jody.

Bob thought of twelve year old Arabic daugh­ters who thought it was a big silly game to squat over while Bob ram fucked their cunts from the rear. Their tight, juiceless cunt sleeves had been so nice! They squealed like all children squeal, but it was wonderful pussy. His balls ached just remembering how nice that pussy meat had been.

Bob was interrupted by Charlie's voice.

"This cunt is hot!" he shouted. "Come on, amigo. Fuck her! Fuck her cunt while she's hot."

Without thinking, Bob jumped in the back seat. He pulled his pants open, nearly ripping the fly apart. He stripped, then was squatting on the seat, his cock sticking straight up like a flagpole. The dim light reflected off the twin curves of her rump. He ran his palm up her trembling thigh and over the twin cheeks of her ass. Man, she was warm and soft all the way up to the pink ravine of her ass!

He reached deeper. His mind was in turmoil. Jody's lovely ass cheeks flexed against his hand. Bob was so excited that he nearly yanked her over the seat and forced her to squat on his peck­er, but she was still sucking on Charlie. The seat back would have to do.

Her ass looked nice, he thought, caressing her rump. There was no reason to dominate Jody like he had his wife. Jody was already broken in If he wanted to ass fuck this fifteen year old nympho, then he could just slide right in. Her butt was tight, but Jody would never say no she was too fucking scared. And besides, she dug sucking Charlie.

He could ponder her ass forever, but her cunt was wetting the vinyl seat and he remembered how her mound gleamed in the light. Now he wanted to fuck that gorgeous mound, and he was going to, right that minute.

He pulled up on her thighs. With a smooth,! upward movement, Bob guided his fuck pole through the ravine of her ass and found the puck­ered hole of her cunt.

Her hips lunged forward. She quivered against him. Her butt cheeks were fleshy, wonderful. He rode forward until her cunt lips sucked on his circumcised pole.

"Man, what a tight pussy!" he gasped.

Up he glided. Her tush spilled open and her channel received him. It was a wonderful sensation. Charlie screamed from the front seat, which meant only one thing. Bob laughed wildly. He pulled on Jody's ass cheeks and slid his cock into her sleeve and laughed and laughed.

There was nothing better than jailbait pussy.