Chapter 2

Cindy Winston had just finished her junior year at Anderson Girl's College, a highly exclusive and extremely expensive private insitution near Deerfield. Perhaps, surrounded only by girls, that was one reason for her eagerness in dating members of the opposite sex just so that she could exercise her prick-teasing powers. For that matter, although several girls on campus had intimated that they would love to pussy-rub and indoctrinate voluptuous Candy into the sweet rites of Lesbos, she had indignantly declined. That route did not at all appeal to her. And that was natural, too, for the happier and more idealistic side of Lesbianism implies a kind of mutual consent and a sharing, even if it is only in fucking techniques. Candy, of course, was not the sharing kind nor did she wish to be subservient to anyone, least of all one of her own sex. With a man, she believed she could dominate and rule triumphantly, and her excursions into the dating game for which she had thus far emerged unscathed had only served to bolster her over-presumptuous conceit about her own powers and aloofness. In a word, she regarded herself as a kind of virgin princess, quite untouchable and unattainable by mere man. She looked upon all men as if they were her courtiers and vassals, and she tolerated them as part of her flattering and admiring retinue, but she would never tolerate their becoming the least bit intimate-for that would mean giving something of herself.

But this evening, after returning from her date with Ted Balton, she found a telegram in her mailbox which was to change her entire life and her outlook into the bargain, to say nothing of the exalted state which she had bestowed so arrogantly upon herself.

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Frowning as she opened the mailbox, she tore open the yellow envelope and read a message from her mother Callie, who at the moment was in Acapulco. Then she swore under her breath, though in a lady-like way: "Damn it anyhow!"

The message confirmed what she had already known, that her parents were breaking up their marriage. But it was far worse than that so far as she was concerned. Callie was going to stay in Mexico and entertain a divorce there, then Marry her "Count," while Candy's father had just accepted the post of a vice presidency in a large Eastern industrial firm and, as soon as the divorce was formal, would marry his delectable secretary. Callie therefore informed her daughter that she had talked on the phone long distance to Jennifer Douglas, her older sister. And it appeared that Candy's aunt was anxious to offer her niece a pleasant vacation. Callie urged her daughter to take advantage of this hospitality, because things would be in a state of flux, and for the time being neither parent would be able to spend any time with her this summer.

Finally, Callie Winston left a Mexican phone number and urged her daughter to call at once. And so, a few minutes later, fuming and smoking cigarette after cigarette, dark-brown-haired Candy waited for the operator to complete the connection. Finally it was achieved. "Mother? What the devil is all this nonsense?" was her first question.

"Now, darling," her mother's husky, bedroom voice tried to be soothing. "You mustn't get upset. I just thought it would be a simply marvelous idea if you and Aunt Jennifer, whom I don't think you've really ever met, got better acquainted. Besides, your father and I promised you a vacation this summer, but as you see, we can't keep our promise. Anyway, your aunt lives in a charming little Missouri town, very scenic, and the rest will do you a great deal of good. Of course there's going to be plenty of money, that you don't have to worry about. You'll go on at the Anderson school in the fall, I'm sure."

"But, Mother, I really don't want to leave Chicago this summer. Missouri sounds just horrible."

"I'm afraid you won't have much choice, dear. That's the one thing your father and I do agree on. Neither of us is going to be back in town for at least four or five months, and since he's decided to sign the checks for your allowance, he told me to tell you that you're to go down to Missouri and that your money will be sent to Aunt Jennifer. So you see, dear, it's really best for all concerned."

"Well, I suppose I have to," Candy grumbled, viciously crushing another half-smoked cigarette in the already filled ashtray. "But I certainly don't like the idea. My, God, what am I going to do for three months in a small hick town, with that old woman?"

"Now, Candy, that's no way to talk about your Aunt Jennifer. After all, she's only about forty-five, and she keeps herself up very well, believe me. She has lots of youthful ideas, and you won't even think about her age. I talked to her just an hour ago, and she's quite excited about the idea of having you stay with her. Now you be a good girl and write down her address right now, and her phone number."

"Oh, all right," Candy grumbled again as she lit still another cigarette, then poised her pencil over a scratchpad on the phone table.

"There," her mother concluded. "I suggest you call her or wire her when you can come. And tell Mr. Tolson, the janitor, to look after our apartment until things can be settled. Either your father or I is going to put it up for sale, because it's a condominium, you know. But I want Mr. Tolson to look after it and make sure there aren't any vandals or anything like that. And by the time summer is over, dear, maybe you can stay at the school-they do have dormitories there, don't they?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Mother, yes, but I wouldn't live there if you paid me!"

"Well, we'll see about that when the time comes, darling. Now I want you to have a perfectly wonderful time. Enrique sends his best."

"Well, I don't reciprocate, you may be sure," Candy disdainfully sniffed. "You know what I think about that pimp."

"Candy Winston! How dare you talk about your future stepfather like that?" her mother angrily exclaimed. "Now you just be a good girl and for once in your life do what you're told."

"All right, Mother, I suppose there's no other way out. But I still don't like the idea. Have fun. Good-bye." The dark-brown-haired beauty, very miffed, at least broke off the connection and hung up. Then she picked up the ashtray and flung it at the wall, regardless of the mess it made. This was all she needed, after that ugly scene with Ted Balton. Well, all right, she'd go down and visit Aunt Jennifer, but maybe she wouldn't go back to school in the fall; maybe she'd find herself a job for herself or something. The idea of going back to that snotty school after spending three months in the Ozarks with all the hillbillies was appalling.

It was too late to call Aunt Jennifer now. She'd do it tomorrow morning. Swiftly undressing, admiring her voluptuous body in the bathroom mirror, Candy Winston got under the shower and was soon scrubbing her magnificent titties and resilient ass, as well as the dark matted thatch of pubic hair which framed her virgin cunt, that orifice of pleasure which Ted Balton had tried to penetrate and to his great disappointment only a few hours ago.

Perhaps if Candy Winston had known what lay in store for her, she might have thought better about his attempt to get into her panties. But then again, perhaps she would have laughed out loud if she had known that Ted Balton was doing at this very moment.

Since Candy had left him with a sizable hard-on, and there wasn't any relief in sight from her, the handsome young advertising salesman had taken out his little black book, phoned a call girl with whom he had had occasional assignations, and at this very moment was in her apartment, happily mounted in her saddle, her long legs and clinging arms wrapped around him, while, closing his eyes and thrusting his prick deep into her seething cunt, he tried to pretend it was Candy Winston he was really fucking.