Chapter 1
Cindy Matthewson looked nervously over her shoulder, pulling the white fur collar of her red woolen jacket more tightly around her neck. Those same bikers were following her, keeping at least three blocks behind her on the main avenue crowded with Christmas shopping traffic.
Her long black hair blew freely from under her white knit cap as the wind whistled through downtown Boston. Cindy's feet slipped and slid over the freezing slush as she threaded her way through the thick crowd, with difficulty. Maybe if she could lose herself in a crowded department store, she could shake those horrible men. They'd done nothing but bother her ever since they walked into the small bakery shop where she worked in on Boylston Street and started talking about her big tits and how they made her uniform stretch out so damned nice. Then they'd talked about her body-how narrow her waist was, how tight her ass was. And when they'd started speculating about whether or not she was a virgin and how tight her cunt was for a hard, biker-type fucking spree-well, Cindy couldn't take it.
Customers stared and smirked or walked away in horror. The last time was too much, and the young brunette had called the police. Oh, how those bikers looked at her when Boston's finest walked in and told the gang to get out or they'd be busted!
Ever since that night, two days ago, the gang had followed her down Boylston to the Commons, where she took the subway to her home in Quincy, some ten miles away. Cindy wanted to tell someone about that gang following her, menacing her, threatening her. But what could she say?
In the end, Cindy decided to say nothing, not wanting to upset her mother, who was still trying to cope with a recently runaway husband. That, plus the usual problems of trying to raise a sixteen-yearold, high-spirited daughter, was almost too much for the weak-willed Flora Matthewson.
"Hey, watch it!"
"Sorry," Cindy mumbled apologetically, having stumbled over another woman's feet. She was at the mouth of the MTA subway station. The warmth of the tunnel blew up from below and warmed her frozen face. No, the gang had apparently given up for the night. She could see no one on bikes nearby. Turning around, Cindy started down the steep concrete steps when a hand suddenly gripped her left arm, pulling her back against the wooden handrail.
"Ohhh!" the girl cried out in fear, twisting around jerkily to look wide-eyed at a tall, darkhaired man. "Mr. Maginn!"
"Just call me Jack. I've told you I don't like to be formal."
Cindy stared at the tall, darkly handsome man, wearing a full length brown leather coat tied tightly around his waist. Jack Maginn dressed impeccably, looking as if he'd just stepped out of an ad from a men's magazine. And yet, there was nothing prissy about him. His black shining eyes framed by a pair of bushy eyebrows meeting over his nose, his high cheeks, full black beard and moustache always made the perky brunette teenager think of him as a Cossack riding from the Ukraine into her life-or more accurately, her mother's. For Jack Maginn was the family's attorney, now trying to sort out the various financial obligations Cindy's father had incurred with his failing luggage business, before turning tail and running off.
"I-I'm sorry," Cindy stuttered, looking down shyly at her black boots, covered with patches of slush.
She always felt so embarrassed, so hot and funny down between her legs, when Jack Maginn stared at her like that. Maybe it was his voice, that rich, sonorous baritone rumbling through the air. Oh, how her white flesh quivered whenever Mr. Jack Maginn talked. And the way he looked at her! Sometimes, Cindy wanted to crawl into a hole when he was over discussing the various legal options open to her mother. He'd look at her over the papers, his eyes dancing mischievously in his handsome head, boring into her very soul, it seemed.
Then the young girl felt her flesh get hot and damp, her nipples grow long and hard and stiff, her virgin cunt knot up into sexual cramps and her panty crotch suddenly get all damp and sticky. Ohhhh, how her legs would tremble, so hard she couldn't stand up. It was a hot feeling, starting somewhere in the centers of her thighs and crawling up her flesh like an electric spark, until it reached her bloated cuntlips. How he looked at her then, his thick, sensuous lips curling up at the corners as if he could read her thoughts and was pleased with them.
Oh, if her mother even suspected what her daughter felt toward the young, thick-muscled lawyer ...
"It's early, only five," Jack said, holding out his hand and twisting it around to glance at his wristwatch. "Come on, I'll buy you a Coke or something. I've got to stay in town until eight, for a meeting." He made a face, then smiled broadly at the trembling teenager. He flashed that double row of perfectly straight white teeth.
Cindy almost fell to her knees with excitement. Jack Maginn was asking her-her-to stay with him for a while. The young brunette could hardly speak.
"Sure. I don't think my mom'll worry too much if I'm a little late."
Cindy was surprised at how deep her voice had suddenly become! Ohh, was this what happened to girls when they felt the way she did? Cindy had attended all those tiresome sex education classes. Those, plus all the conversations she had with her girlfriends in the john, told her enough about sexthat is, all she needed to know second-hand. Soon, the young brunette would be finding out what ... fucking . . . was all about from personal experience. But, no, no, that was wrong! Her mother had told her only bad girls let men fool around with their pussies, stick their hard dicks into their virgin cunts, break their cherries, then leave them pregnant!
Her mother had told her stories about women who let men fuck them, then leave them faster than a bullet when they find out they're pregnant. There was always a special look in her mother's eyes, whenever she started talking about men and women doing it together, and about men running away. Cindy always wondered if her father had been forced into marriage. Certainly there was little love between them ...
"Hey, stop looking so glum. Come on, it's only four days before Christmas. Pretty girls like you should be wearing smiles." Jack cupped her face in his big hands and smiled broadly at her.
Oh, what she would have given to feel those thick smiling lips pressed against hers, his hands smoothing down her body, ready to feel ...
No, it was terrible for her to be thinking such thoughts. She was a good girl, not one of those sluts her mother kept warning her about.
"Sorry," Cindy muttered, turning around and walking behind Jack as they climbed out of the MTA entrance. The young brunette looked through the thickening crowd on the Commons, wondering if those bikers had changed their minds and decided to hang around or follow her into the station. Well, if they did, they'd get the surprise of their lives. She was with a man, a real man who'd protect her against those horrible men, always eyeing her and making lewd suggestions.
"Come on. I've got a small apartment off Beacon," Jack said, taking her by the arm and leading her past the red brick Commons Church, up the steep hill and past rows of three-story darkred townhouses, stacked on top of one another.
Cindy always like this part of town. It was one of Boston's many links to the past. Stepping into this section of Beacon Hill was like losing two-hundred years. There was a calm-a dignity-about these old eighteenth-century brick and brownstone houses, shoved tightly together on either side of narrow, twisting streets. Both she and Jack walked briskly, their heads down, fighting the increasing wind from the north.
"In here," he said, running ahead of the girl, fishing his keys from his pocket and opening the tall white wood Federal-style door. Cindy stepped into the high-ceilinged hallway, shaking from the biting cold.
"Let me help you," Jack said after taking his coat off and flinging it onto a near-by chair. Cindy took off her cap and let Jack remove her heavy coat. It was warm and cozy in his apartment. As she moved from the hall to the richly furnished living room, Cindy could tell the young lawyer was extremely successful. She was impressed with the man, more and more. But something told her she shouldn't have accepted his invitation to come in and warm up. The young brunette felt herself attracted to him. She hoped he wouldn't try anything. Oh, how could she resist him if he did what part of her was begging him to-fuck her! Oh, what a horrible, horrible thing to be thinking of!
"Sit down, and I'll try calling your mother," Jack said easily, indicating a high-backed chair near the fireplace.
While Cindy sat and looked about the large room she heard Jack talking to her mother. If she only knew what was going on in her daughter's head, she'd be driving down as fast as she could to rescue her. But Flora Matthewson was a trusting woman, especially now; since many of her former friends only smirked at her recent marital and financial problems. No, she wouldn't mind if her daughter stayed for a while at the young lawyer's townhouse. In fact, she'd appreciate it if he'd drive her back, sparing her daughter the inconvenience and possible danger of taking the train to Quincy late in the evening.
"How about something to drink?" Jack said, hanging up the phone and moving toward his bar. There was a subtle change in his manner, in his tone of voice. He seemed a little more sure of himself now, more possessive of her. Cindy liked the change and, involuntarily, found herself sinking into the chair and rubbing the backs of her legs against the soft material. That gentle movement made her cuntlips rub together and tease her clit to semi-hardness.
"Just Coke," Cindy said, feeling her nipples getting so hard and stiff, pushing against the stiff material of her bra.
Was this what getting worked up sexually was about? Cindy didn't know if she liked it or not. It was uncomfortable, something she wasn't used to at all. She had to fight down the feelings taking over her body. She couldn't let this man see how excited she was getting. Cindy took a deep breath, working her plump, taut asscheeks into, the full cushion and smiling coyly at Jack.
"Come on. It's cold outside. The least you can do is have a little brandy," Jack said, pouring her half a glassful of the amber liquid and handing it to her. Cindy smiled, trying to act grown-up as she tipped the glass and swallowed some of it.
"Ohhh, it's good," the teenager said, smacking her lips softly and taking another drink.
Jack watched, narrowing his eyes and studying Cindy's reactions to the brandy while leaning on his elbows on the bar. The teenager settled back in the chair and crossed her legs suggestively at the knees, talking about her school and home life while drinking more and more of the liquor.
Cindy realized something was wrong with the situation suddenly. Jack was smiling, but his face had taken on another look. There was a frightening intensity in his eyes, a slight quivering in his cheeks. Even his position had changed-slightly, but enough to put the teenager on the alert.
He looked as if he were about to pounce on her. There was a tension about his body, and the air between the two of them seemed to grow thick, hot and charged with a kind of electricity. Cindy knew she should put down her glass and get up and go. Instead, the young brunette took another drink of the amber liquor, putting the glass down in her lap and breathing more heavily through her flared nostrils.
"No, no, I'd better not," Cindy said, covering her glass with her right hand.
What was he trying to do, get her drunk so he could fuck her? How awful! And yet, why did that strange tingle in her cunt seem worse now than before? She should be able to control herself better. But there she was, sitting alone with this big, virile man, only a few feet away, and feeling like a whore! Oh, how insistent that feeling was, building more and more with each passing second, until her cuntlips, asscheeks and flat belly felt all flushed and hot and heavy.
"Do you date much?" Jack asked, rubbing the rim of his glass along his upper lip and staring hotly at her.
"No, Momma says it's not good for a girl to go out too much. She says men are after only one thing . . . " Cindy's voice trailed off into a tremor. She lowered her eyes, staring hard at the green carpeting.
Oh, how her face was burning! She was certain her cheeks and forehead had to be a burning red! "You know, it's true," Jack said quietly, putting down his drink and standing up straight behind the bar. "For instance, I could take advantage of this situation and try something. After all, you're almost a woman now."
Cindy felt her heart skip a beat. He was actually coming out and saying it! He wanted her, she was sure of it. She had to resist him. Everything depended on it. How could she look her mother, her friends, even herself, in the face without blushing if she gave in to him!
"But you wouldn't!"
Damn! Why did that sound as if she were disappointed?
Jack picked up her tone of voice and smiled more broadly. He tapped the wooden bar with his fingertips, then narrowed his eyes more and started walking, from behind the bar, toward her.
Cindy felt panic welling up in her throat. She should be screaming for the police, moving behind the chair and threatening this wonderful-looking man with an andiron from the fireplace-anything. Instead, she just sat there, staring modestly at the carpeting, waiting for Jack Maginn to make the next move.
"I think, maybe, you want me to ... well, seduce you." The way he pronounced the word "seduce" made her cringe. He was laughing at her, laughing at her inexperience, almost sneering at the fact she was a virgin!
Cindy couldn't look at the big man as he walked toward her. She moved her eyes to the yawning fireplace and watched the tongues of flame lick around the fat, pole-shaped logs. She could feel her fingers grow icy and start to tremble as Jack stood only a few feet from her.
"Stand up, Cindy," Jack said, taking her by the arms and hauling her up from the protection of the big comfortable living room chair.
Cindy closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Oh, she was hot, so hot-the hottest she'd ever been! Even that slight movement of rising to a standing position was making her feel wild. She felt shamefully near an orgasm. There was the friction of her cuntlips over her swollen clit nub as she steadied herself. She felt so shaky. The brandy was doing its trick, making her loose, free, off-balance morally, mentally, emotionally, physically. Oh, she never could fight off such an attack!
"Please, I'd better be going home," Cindy said, shaking at the sound of her own voice. It was so low, so throaty-like the sound of an animal growling.
"I don't think you really want to, do you, Cindy?" Jack asked, lowering his face to hers. "Yes, yes, I do."
Damn, why did she sound so horribly unconvincing? Why was she feeling so fuzzy and hot and soft as she felt Jack's breath gently blowing against her burning hot cheeks?
"I don't think . . . " Jack's words ended as he gently pressed his lips to Cindy's, wrapping his thick arms around her waist.
The young brunette tried struggling, but soon gave up. He was too strong, too overpowering. There was no room to go anywhere. She felt surrounded by him, covered by his intense masculinity. It was getting hard for her to breathe! She fought through the intensifying kiss, clawing at his broad, heaving chest. But Jack held on, kissing her more passionately, finally driving the tip of his tongue hard against her closed lips.
"Ummmmnnnff!" Cindy grunted, trying to push away.
But it felt so good to feel his paw-like, callused hands sliding down her back until they finally cupped both asscheeks. She could feel his long fingers working into the soft fleshy cushions as he made gentle fucking motions with his hips. When she found herself returning the forward rocking motions with hunches of her own, Cindy panicked. What was she turning into? Only a few seconds ago, she was a good, decent girl. And now she was acting like a whore!
And yet, how good those iron bands of his arms felt, closing tightly around her! Oh yes, YES! She began to like the way Jack's touch made her heart beat so fast and her flesh crawl with an unknown, unspeakable pleasure! How shallow and rapid her breathing had become! And how big her young tits seemed to growing! How the stiff nipples were pushing even harder than before against her bra cups!
They started hurting. She wished she could take her bra off. Her titty tips were all hot and sticky. The nipples were roasting in her sweat! And that horrible, itchy tingling sensation between her trembling legs was getting worse. She could have sworn her clit was burning, gleaming like a burning jewel.
"You're one hell of a woman," Jack whispered, taking his mouth off hers for a moment, then sliding it back while moving his hands more sensuously over her ass.
Cindy knew she should have tried to scratch out his eyes, do anything to make him stop taking all these freedoms with her body. But how could she fight through the red fog that had settled over her brain? All she knew was that every hard inch of Jack Maginn's body seemed to be pressing into hers. She could feel his hands sliding up and down her willing young body, smoothing over her curved back, up to her jutting shoulder blades, and then back down to her ass.
As he pulled her tighter against himself, he gave her another hunch with his hips. Cindy stopped struggling. He was squeezing her asscheeks so slowly, so rhythmically, wonderfully, Cindy didn't want him to stop. Yes, yes, he could go on like this, forever. His hands were gentle, even if they were large. He was hunching harder and more frequently into her body, grinding his hips back and forth against her thighs.
Her body started doing funny things, things that frightened her at the same time as they excited her. She felt as if someone had slipped a gob of butter just inside the mouth of her tight virgin little cunt. It felt all mushy and hot and runny inside. The tingle had grown into a more urgent, concentrated feeling. Her plump cuntlips were aching to be rubbed.
Oh, why was she feeling these horrible sensations? Weren't they wrong? Her mother, even some of her friends, said they were!
Almost unconsciously, her hands tightened around Jack's neck. She felt him hunching into her even harder. There was something familiar to this movement. Yes, fucking fucking! She'd seen dogs fucking in the streets in her neighborhood. They did the same thing-locking legs together and hunching back and forth until ...
"No, stop!" Cindy cried, tearing her mouth away from Jack's and pushing hard against his broad chest. She lowered her head and twisted her face away when the big man tried catching her lips with his, once more. Tears of shame and humiliation streaked her flushed face. "It's wrong, 1 can't do something like ... this!"
"You want me, baby. You want me as bad as I want you," Jack murmured. He wasn't taking no for an answer. He was really going to fuck her.
And part of Cindy was screaming out, "Finally! At last!"