Chapter 1
The temperature was ten degrees above when he arrived. New York was cold, clammy, freezing, but he didn't mind the cold or the filth or the clutter and people. He was oblivious to everybody else. New York was the main stem, the place to be, the center of the world.
The man at the employment agency said there was a good opening at Stouben, Reilly and McElroy for somebody with his experience. Copywriter on retail accounts, $12,000 to start. "Inside of a year, I personally guarantee you'll be making $15,000 if you're any good. And judging by your samples, you're good. How come you left Montpelier, anyways? It's such a pretty little town. You could live to be a thousand.
"I had bigger fish to fry," Barney said, smiling jovially.
The interviewer studied his application and resume. "I see you're not married. Wait till you see some of the girls up at the agency. They'll knock you for a loop. You won't be able to concentrate on your work. Hey-what am I talking about-you've got just as pretty girls up in Vermont!"
Barney thought about Amelia Westcott and nodded. "Yes, we've got our share." You don't put down on an application form for a job that you've left your home to avoid getting married to the prettiest, shapeliest girl in town. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that, had he remained six months longer, Amelia would have nailed him for sure. He had felt himself weakening gradually and he wasn't about to get married. Not for a long time. Twenty-four was too young to settle down. There was a big world out there and so many girls to bed down with.
Amelia had been a hellcat in bed. He couldn't ask for anything more delectable or enticing, but he had an idea that all the fun and excitement went out of sex once it was legal. And $12,000 was $2,000 more than he had been earning as advertising manager of Culp & Swarthout's department store, even though the job had been a sinecure.
New York was where all the action was. Sex and money and excitement. Vermont was a good place to come from, but it was so, well, dull, for want of a better word. Everything so orderly and in its place. You were tabbed for a certain slot and that was it.
There was no varying the pattern. Go skiing in the wintertime, picnicking and hiking in the spring and summer-and Amelia taking off her clothes and revealing that eye-shattering shape of hers that never failed to bring on an erection.
Amelia was tall, almost as tall as he was, and when they stood naked together in the bedroom-his chest against her firm, ripe breasts, the nipples so thick and pink and juicy, his penis between her legs sliding back and forth so insinuatingly-they were happy. Amelia would sink to her knees and take his eight inch tool in her mouth and wetly suck it, devour it, her warm saliva forming a lubrication, her cheeks bulging with his male flesh. Her head would bob up and down, up and down as she sucked away voraciously at his quivering member until he would almost ejaculate in his excitement as he clutched and squeezed her full, melon-like breasts, the nipples getting hard and erect under his tugging fingers.
Then Amelia would stand up, take his penis in her graceful fingers, and lead him to the bed, where they would complete the sexual act. Her long legs would wrap around his straining back, urging him on and on. Her moans and cries of delight were music to his ears. Why did Amelia have to spoil it all with her talk of marriage? Barney shrugged. Be that as it may, here he was in New York in a $165-a-month hotel room and all set to go to work in a big advertising agency with a dozen Amelias to play with.
Henry Stouben looked over Barney's samples and liked them. He liked them very much, indeed. There was room for a smart young copywriter with retail experience. And he liked the way this Barney Andrews looked. Like a younger version of Van Johnson with his curly, blond hair and husky, virile build. He looked like he had the makings of an account executive.
"Why would you want to be a copywriter when you've been an advertising manager, Mr. Andrews?" he asked curiously. Maybe the young man was a secret drunk or took dope. You never knew nowadays. 'You were a big frog in a small pond. We have close to 200 employees at this agency and you'll be just one among many. And $12,000 in New York is equivalent to $6,000 in Vermont with the high cost of living-"
His secretary, Penny Baer, came in with some papers for him to initial, and he noticed the look she gave young Andrews. And the look Andrews gave her.
"New York is the advertising nerve center of the world, sir," Barney said, "I want to see if I can make it here. I think I've got the stuff."
"I think you do, too," said Henry Stouben, stealing an involuntary glance at the young man's crotch. "We have a dozen or so retail accounts-carpets, men's wear, one big department store that does something like $40 million a year. A hell of a lot of work for you. Of course, we have twenty copywriters but the major brunt of the retail accounts will fall on your shoulders. Do you think you'll be able to handle it?"
"I'd like to give it a try, sir," Barney answered. I'd also like to give that secretary of yours a try, he thought, licking his lips involuntarily. What a sweet piece that was.
"I warn you in advance it's not the usual nine-to five routine. There will be many nights you'll have to work late. You'll be bone tired, but we expect our personnel to come in on time regardless of how late they've worked. We make it up to you with our Christmas bonus." He smiled grimly. "You'll earn it, I assure you. We may not be Doyle, Dane and Bernbach but we do a damn good job, and as the old cliche has it, we're one of New York's fastest growing advertising agencies. Do you drink?" he asked suddenly.
Barney shrugged. "I like a beer at lunch and a couple of Scotches before supper."
"Can you handle three martinis at lunch and still be able to do a job once you get back to the office? There will be occasions you will be required and expected to go out to lunch with our clients, and you'll have to drink like that whether you want to or not"
"I can handle my liquor," Barney assured him.
Then phones started ringing and Mr. Stouben got a harried look on his face. He told Penny to show Barney to his office on the thirty-second floor. The agency occupied five floors.
Barney followed her, admiring her trim, round hips bobbing and weaving under the miniskirt, wondering if he could make any progress with her on such short notice. Well, he would find out soon enough.
They were crowded together in the elevator, and he felt her thighs against his, silken, insinuating. He felt the tell-tale bulge in his crotch warning him.
It was, surprisingly enough, a large office with a filing cabinet, big comfortable chair, electric typewriter and, best of all, a couch.
Barney smiled at her. "Why the couch?" he asked disarmingly.
"Wait til you start putting in late hours. You'll find out soon enough," Penny said, testing his typewriter to see that it worked okay. She cleaned it with a little brush. The brush dropped on the floor and she bent down to pick it up. Her breasts were easily visible, their creamy whiteness exciting to his avid view. She was wearing the flimsiest of brassieres and he even caught sight of her round pink nipples. Damn. He wished he didn't get erections so easily.
Penny pointed to the IN basket which contained half a dozen accounts to work on. "You can start on any one of those and after you've completed a couple, bring them to Mr. Stouben personally. The creative director, June Lahn, is in Bermuda and won't be back till next week. You'll be reporting to her."
Barney was a trifle disconcerted to learn he would be working under a female creative director. He wondered what she looked like. He didn't like the idea of working under a woman.
Penny smiled at him as though she could read his thoughts. "If you don't have other plans, I'll be glad to take you to lunch and fill you in on all the office gossip."
"That's very kind of you," Barney said.
Much to his surprise, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Not at all," Penny said, her breath sweet in his nostrils, "It's a pleasure." Then before he knew what he was doing, his arm was around her waist and he was drawing her close to him and kissing her hard. She didn't resist. His hand cupped her silken breasts and squeezed them. She gently pushed him away, giggling.
"My, you Vermont people are faster workers than I expected." Then she reached out and touched the tell-tale bulge in his trousers. "My, my, you naughty boy."
Barney was so excited he thought he would cream in his trousers, but she slipped out, airily telling him she would pick him up at noon.
He could barely concentrate but he forced himself, grimly thinking business before pleasure. It certainly looked as though this was going to be a very interesting advertising agency to work for.
Before he knew it, twelve noon had come around and Penny rang him up, telling him to meet her on the main floor under the big clock. She looked cute as a button in her minicoat and scarf around her flowing chestnut hair and her ass saucily swaying underneath the minicoat They dined in a little French restaurant four blocks away on a side street off Fifth Avenue. It was dark and intimate inside, and Barney knew he was going to have some delectable fun with Penny under cover of the dark. She ordered a martini and he ordered a beer, and she gave him all the inside dope about the office while her knees pressed against his. Mr. Stouben liked boys. Watch out for him. The previous copywriter had been straight as a die until Mr. Stouben got to him. Mr. Reilly, one of the other partners, had suffered two heart attacks and just came in a few hours a day. June Lahn was sleeping with Tony D'Onofrio, the art director. Gregory Moynihan, the senior account supervisor, liked young girls. Real young girls. Thirteen, fourteen, the Lolita type. Three of the artists and two of the production men enjoyed a weekly orgy at the Bildmeer Hotel. Half the secretaries were sleeping with their bosses on company time. Sure, everybody put in a lot of overtime, but it wasn't all work. And so on.
By the time their main courses arrived, steak for both of them, Barney had his hand up Penny's skirt and he was caressing her smooth thighs and the sweetneess that lay between them. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic of her nylon panties and tugged at them until they came down. Not all the way. Dark as the restaurant was, that would have been totally indiscreet. Then his finger found her sweet tight pussy and she sighed and sat back, her legs apart while he fingered her. He caressed her warm soft belly and navel and her silken thighs with one hand, and with the other hand found her breasts. They were firm and ripe to the touch and the nipples were sheer heaven, rising hard and erect to his twiddling touch.
"Let's get out of here and get back to that couch and use it," he whispered hoarsely.
She nodded. "Okay."
He paid the check and they walked swiftly back to his office. They undressed quickly and went at each other like two hungry animals.
It was difficult to reach her ripe breasts with his mouth while still jabbing away at her with his shaft but the pleasure was well worth the effort. He sucked the pink, soft nipples between his lips and felt the tips harden and dilate. Her breasts were wet with his slavering mouth, but they smelled so sweet with the fine feminine perfume of her body.
He drew a large portion of her curving breast into his mouth along with the nipple, and, with both hands firmly planted under her heaving buttocks, he rammed and thrust and jerked, push-pulling away with all his might. He felt his tool enlarging in her slit and knew that the orgasm was imminent.
Her teeth sank into his shoulder at the moment of climax, but her loins didn't stop their steady pounding away. He ground into her with each downward thrust, and with his mouth drawing harder and harder on her rich, full bosom, he came.
She moaned when she felt his hot spurt flood her vagina and her teeth bit harder into his shoulder. The pain of the bite only served to increase the pleasure he felt as he continued ejaculating. She screamed with passion, humping vigorously as his long, slippery triphammer of flesh surged into her. It was a glorious display of sexual pleasure and he wanted to bury his cock forever inside her tight, wet slit. He felt the juices of his lust spurting again and again, and his body drained itself of all its semen.
For the time being, anyways.
He lay back, temporarily sated. Then he continued lovemaking, increasing his pace until they were both panting and wriggling and mouthing love's obscenities. Then he slowed down to an easy, steady, voluptuous rhythm, sliding his huge tool into the full length of her velvety tunnel. God, it felt marvelous!
Her jutting breasts tasted delicious and he took them one by one into his mouth and sucked in the hardened nipples where he could bite them gently with his teeth. She squealed and clawed at his back with her scarlet-tinted fingernails.
Time after time, they both neared the climactic point and the tickling seemed unbearable. But time after time, he stopped long enough for the tides of lust to subside, only to begin a furious stroking that brought them back closer and closer to the brink of heaven.
"Oh, screw me, darling!" she groaned, "Don't stop. Ram me hot and heavy, I want to feel that hot, sweet sperm in my slit. Take me, darling. Screw me good!"
He slid his hands underneath her buttocks and dug his fingers into the firm round globes of flesh. He pulled her hard against him and held that tight position for as long as he could. Then he began a steady stroking in and out, in and out.
He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked the tip until it extended between his teeth. He bit it softly, then experimentally bit it more roughly. She squirmed underneath him and pressed her loins into bus loins. The rough treatment seemed to work with her and she was rapidly turning into a tigress of sex underneath him. Her lithe, supple legs wrapped around his back and she clung gently to him, steadily forcing his monstrous tool down deep into the soft moistness of her mons veneris.
When they were tightly joined, he felt her soft breasts pushing upwards against his chest and the light pressure of her calves on the small of his back. Her heels rested on the mounds of his buttocks and their lips met again in the hottest kiss yet. Their tongues intertwined and intermingled their saliva.
He cupped her breasts in both hands and roughly kissed each nipple. He was rough with her breasts because he knew she liked it that way. It made her feel sexier, somehow. Although, he reflected, if she got any sexier she would really kill him.
Her heavy young breasts flattened against his bare chest. Her loins crushed into his and her lips sought his thirstily.
The kiss lasted a long time and they were both out of breath when she finally tore her mouth away regretfully.
"Wow!" she exclaimed, giggling, "I'm all out of breath." She inhaled, then again he crushed her lips against his. He felt her cool hands on his tool and then she was fumbling and reaching for the tip, guiding it into the mouth of her moist slit.
With a sensuous delight, he slid his tool up into her treasure trove. It felt so wet and gooey and utterly delightful. She sighed and panted, moaned and groaned as the thick tool of flesh slid into her deeper and deeper and made its way up her tunnel of love. When their loins touched, he thought his back was going to snap in two. He was arched and ready for love and then, suddenly, it slipped out of her vagina. She climbed on him and straddled him with her supple white thighs.
"I love you, darling," she moaned. In one sweet, gentle motion, she rose over his erect member, and directing the tip of it to the lips of her slit, she sank down on top of it, gorging her cunny with his swollen dong.
"Ahhhh ... ," she sighed, her eyes half closed in rapture, "That feels so goo-ood."
"Take your time, baby," he muttered, the perspiration pouring down his back, "Make it last, honey."
"Oh, I will, I will!" she said, sliding up and down with vim and vigor, wriggling her hips every which way.
Then she looked at her watch and gasped. It was 1:30. What would Mr. Stouben think? She quickly got dressed and told him he'd better get dressed in a hurry, too.
"Will I see you tonight?" he asked, kissing her as she darted out the door.
"'Fraid not, I have a date," she said.
Then she was gone and he was all alone with this pile of work to do. He took out the carpet account file and began working on it, polishing each phrase, taking painstaking care to insure that his first effort would be well received by the boss.