Chapter 5
Frankie Teaches And Learns
Tony awoke with the early morning sun streaming onto his face through a window. He blinked and yawned deeply. Dobber was asleep in the chair with his head cocked to one side, as if his neck was broken. His bloodless lips were tightened into a slight, blissful smile.
Tony stretched and slid out of bed. He pulled on his swim trunks and padded into the bathroom. He winced at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, then took a comb and ran it through his thick, tangled hair. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water over his face to tear away the cobwebs in his brain.
Tony dried his face and returned to the living room, pausing at the dresser. He pulled open a drawer and took out what was left of the money Margo had given them. He tucked it into the small pocket of his bathing trunks and left the apartment.
"Hey, kid!"
Tony glanced around. Race walked up, a racing form folded under his arm. "Where you headed, kid?"
"I thought I'd go surfing." Tony still felt a little nervous around Race. Despite what Margo had told him of Race's callousness, Tony couldn't believe the man wouldn't blow his top if he found out Tony was making love to his woman free of charge.
"Say, kid, can you work a movie camera?"
Tony shook his head, puzzled. "I never have. Why?"
"I got a little deal, kid. It might tide us over until the other trick comes through. You sure you never worked a movie camera?"
"I can't even operate a Brownie," Tony confessed.
Race shrugged. "Well, hell, I guess I can learn now. We'll let you get the kicks." He opened the door to his apartment. "I'll let you know about it, kid." He closed the door, leaving Tony mystified.
Tony shrugged and walked down to the beach. It must have been about ten o'clock and the area was just beginning to fill with people. He wondered if Frankie and her crowd were out surfing this early. He walked up to a refreshment stand and ordered a hamburger and coffee. It was the same place he and Dobber had bought the heroin the night before, but another guy a gray-haired man with an artificial leg was behind the counter.
The fellow brought the hamburger and poured Tony a cup of coffee. "Where can a guy rent a surfboard around here?" Tony asked, tossing a dollar bill on the counter.
The fellow nodded tward a pier. "Down there."
Tony finished the hamburger and coffee. He strolled toward the pier, keeping an eye peeled for Frankie.
As Tony stepped onto the pier, he spotted an open shed with surfboards and rubber rafts piled about helter-skelter.
Tony was surprised to see a familiar face behind a battered desk in the middle of the equipment. It was the little brunette in the striped bikini who'd gotten tossed in the blanket the night before. She still looked a bit jaded from the bouncing. As Tony walked up, she put down the magazine she was reading and smiled. Her willowly, bronzed body was still encased in the tight, striped bikini.
Tony almost asked her how she liked her blanket ride, then changed his mind. "I'd like to rent a surfboard."
"Sure," she said cheerily. "What size."
"Size?"
She laughed. "You must be a gremmie."
"A what?" Tony asked, ears reddening.
"A novice, a beginner," she said patiently. "How much do you weigh?"
"About a hundred and eighty."
She rose and walked over to a stack of surfboards that had seen better days. She touched one with her toe. "Try that one. That's a ten footer. And it's nice and solid. It'll be easier for you to stay on."
"How much?" Tony asked.
She walked back to the battered desk and opened a ledger. "There's a five-dollar deposit. It rents for a dollar an hour."
Tony paid her and lifted the board to his shoulder. "Where are Frankie and her crowd surfing today?"
The girl glanced up, surprised. "Frankie? Frankie Wyler? Do you know her?"
"I met her last night."
The girl tossed her head, flicking her pony tail over a shoulder. She smiled at him coyly. "Did you see me ride the blanket?"
Tony shuffled uneasily. "It looked like fun."
She shrugged. "You can get wiped out if you don't land right." She pointed up the beach. "Frankie and her safari should be up that way, around the cove. They were going to try some new surf today."
Tony nodded. "Thanks." He turned and walked away, the board across his shoulders.
"I'll be off work in a couple of hours," the girl called. "I'll probably see you there."
Tony waved to her and trudged down the beach. He was surprised at the weight of the board. He wondered how the surf bunnies managed to carry them around.
Tony passed within a hundred yards of the lagoon where he had seek the naked nymph. He strained to see the giant rock, but couldn't. He thought about the perfumed towel he had carefully rolled and placed in a bureau drawer. He wondered if he would ever see the girl again, to return the towel.
Tony rounded the cove and saw several figures bobbing in the surf. The waves seemed higher than yesterday, capped by frothing white. Tony recognized a familiar figure with wildly flying red hair. She was riding a board in on one of the waves.
Drawing even with the surfers, Tony put his board down on the sand, leaned against it and watched as Frankie glided in.
As the wave neared shore, Frankie shifted her weight to her rear foot, and pivoted the board deftly out of the wave. She jumped into the water and dragged her board to shore.
Tony walked over to her. "You make it look easy."
She glanced up. "Oh, hi. You going to try it?" She tugged up her sagging, wet halter. Damn, what breasts! They drew Tony's gaze like magnets.
"How's the surf?" Tony asked, trying to sound like a pro.
She sat down on her surfboard and shook the water out of her long red hair. "It's a little heavier than usual today. We're having a wild time." She looked at his surfboard. "God, where'd you get that thing? It looks like part of somebody's backyard fence."
Tony grinned. "The chick gave me one I couldn't bust up, I guess."
The guys and a girl came in on a foaming, roaring wave. The girl lost her balance and did a belly flop into the surf. Frankie laughed. "That's the third time she's been creamed today." She glanced up at Tony. A mischievous little smile crossed her face. "Well, aren't you going to try it?"
Tony shrugged and wadded into the water with his board. The three other surfers dragged their boards onto the beach and sat down beside Frankie. They watched him, smiling.
Tony looked out into the surf where a guy had just pulled himself atop his board. The fellow lay prone on it, looking over his shoulder as a wave swelled behind him. As the crest of the wave rolled beneath his feet, the surfer stroked rapidly several times. The wave caught the board and he began his long ride into shore.
Tony waded out further, pushing his board ahead. This surfing didn't look too difficult. He turned parallel to the waves, grasped the board and heaved himself on top of it. But he was too far to the rear and the front of the board rose to a 45-degree angle. The board shot out from under Tony and he hit the water on his back. A huge wave roared in and broke over him, ramming salt water into his mouth and nose. Tony regained his footing, sputtering. He heard laughter from the shore.
Tony waded after his bobbing surfboard, swearing to himself and feeling like a fool. Frankie rose and tugged her damp bikini over her buttocks. "Well, I guess I'd better teach this gremmie to surf before he drowns himself."
Tony retrieved his board and waded in to shore. He grinned in embarrassment. "It's not as easy as it looks."
Frankie reached out and ran her hand over the surface of his surfboard. "God, this is like glass. Didn't they tell you that you're supposed to put some paraffin on it for surer footing?"
Tony shook his head, feeling foolish. Frankie walked over to a striped beach bag on the sand, reached into it and brought out a slab of paraffin. She came back, took Tony's board and laid it down on the sand. She began smearing on the paraffin in little circular strokes. Her forty inchers, flexed and bobbed inside the brief halter. The other surfers rose, took their boards and waded back into the surf.
Frankie finished with the board and tossed the paraffin back into the beach bag. She picked up her board and took Tony's hand. "Come on, this is no place to learn. You need to start in low surf to get the feel of the board."
Tony picked up his own board and they walked together along the beach. Occasionally one of her rippling thighs brushed Tony's leg, making his skin tingle.
"Where's Frankenstein today?" Tony asked, grinning.
She smiled. "He'll be out in a little while." She pouted prettily. "And don't call my boyfriend Frankenstein. You should see him on a basketball court. He was honorable mention Ail-American last year.
"I'll bet a giraffe could have done better," Tony said sarcastically.
She smiled and punched him playfully in the side with her elbow.
They passed a sandbar. On the other side, the surf was calmer, with small, widely spaced waves. Frankie tossed her board down on the sand. "This should be about right."
She took his hand and led him into the water. "Now grab your board just past the center," she instructed. Tony did this. "Now just roll yourself over onto it." Tony heaved himself up, almost slipped, then slid onto the board. He hung on, bobbing in the quiet surf.
"Good," Frankie said. "Now we'll just paddle around a bit. Reach ahead with your arms and pull down deeply." Tony tried it and the board careened wildly. "No," she chided. "Pull down, not out and around."
Tony tried it again and the board plowed ahead smoothly. "Good," Frankie complimented. "You'll make a good surfer. You've got such strong arms and shoulders."
Tony paddled around on the board for a while, gaining confidence. She showed him how to drag one foot in the water and pull harder with the opposite arm to turn. Tony was trying hard to be a good student, and she seemed to enjoy teaching him.
After an hour of paddling around, she decided he was ready to try a wave. She took hold of the board just below his knees and pushed him out into deeper water. Once, when she bent forward to shove the board ahead, one of her enormous breasts blooped down and touched his thigh. The feel of it aroused Tony.
She turned him in toward shore. "Now, the trick of catching a wave is to wait until its crest hits your toes, then paddle like hell for about three or four strokes, so that your speed will match the wave's. Got that?"
"Yeah, I think so."
She held onto the board, looking back over her shoulder at an approaching wave. Tony felt the wave slap into his ankles. "Pull! Pull!" Frankie shouted, shoving the board forward. Tony stroked mightily, then felt the force of the wave catch the board. He rode it to within twenty-five yards of shore before he lost his balance and slipped off the board.
"Nice going!" Frankie yelled.
She worked with him through the morning, teaching him how to crawl to his feet on the board, legs spaced wide apart. It must have been about one or two o'clock when they finally waded ashore. Tony walked to a refreshment stand and brought back hamburgers and cold drinks. They relaxed on their surfboards and ate the food.
"You're doing pretty good for a gremmie," Frankie said. She stretched out on her back on her surfboard. She crossed her legs and little muscles flexed across her flat, tanned tummy.
"Do you think I'm ready for the big surf?" Tony asked.
"Maybe lying down on the board, but not standing. You'd do a pearl dive the first thing." She smiled up at him, running her tongue over her dazzling white teeth. "And I'd hate to see you get a bump on that handsome head."
"You're real good at surfing," Tony said, looking down admiringly at her nut-brown body. He noted that her eyes were a bluish green, the color of the sea. "Been surfing long?"
She shrugged. "Not very. I eat and sleep surfing right now, but I'll probably lose interest before long and take up something else. I think a person should experience every sensation there is. If he doesn't, he's not really living. Might as well be embalmed and put six feet under."
"Every sensation?" Tony teased.
She looked directly into his eyes, meaningfully. "Every sensation," she said with emphasis. "My family are middle-class bores. Sometimes I think they're not real people at all, just straw people, controlled by disgusting middle-class morals. I'm the black sheep." She laughed reflectively. "You should have seen my old man's face when he read that essay I did for the college magazine, expounding the virtues of free love."
"Free love-I'm for that," Tony said jokingly.
"My thesis was that with no Victorian sex mores, there'd be fewer frustrated neurotics, fewer rapes and sex crimes."
"Sounds reasonable," Tony said, although he wasn't sure what "mores" were.
Frankie rose suddenly and picked up her surfboard. "Come on. I want to get my kicks in before the big surf peters out."
Tony picked up his board and trotted behind as she ran along the beach near the water, playfully dodging the waves as they gushed up to die on the sand. Her breasts and buttocks were tumultuous in the tight bikini. He thought about how he'd like to give her a little of that free love she was so hot for.
The other kids were still out in the high surf, riding waves in, then rushing out again to catch another as if they expected someone to pull the plug on the ocean any minute, draining it.
Tony saw a gangling, familiar figure. It was Frankenstein, riding the back of a towering wave. Tony was surprised to see that he was rather graceful on a surfboard despite his size. Mr. Basketball swung his board to one side, sweeping along parallel to the wave, weaving. He moved to the front of his board.
"Look, he's hanging ten," Frankie said admiringly. She waded into the surf, flopped down on her board and paddled out toward the breakers.
Tony followed her into the water and rolled onto his own board. But he found the going tougher in the larger waves. He hadn't gone twenty-five yards before a breaker slammed into his board, spun it around and upended it. Tony struggled to his feet, reaching out to grab his board before it got away.
Tony glanced up and saw Mr. Basketball roaring in on his wave, looking tall as Goliath. Marvin glanced down and saw Tony bobbing in the water. His face twisted into a snarl-smile. He shifted his weight and the board twisted around, heading straight for Tony.
Tony tried to sidestep, but the board, kicking up spray, zeroed in on him like a missile. An instant before the sharp stem of the board could split his head open, Tony leaped and dove for the bottom. The board sliced over his body, the fin bruising one of his thighs.
Tony surfaced, sputtering. He was mad as hell. He saw Mr. Basketball pivot his board out of the wave, lie down on it and start paddling away from shore. Half-swimming, half-running, Tony splashed toward him, forgetting his own board. Tony strained forward, grabbed Mr. Basketball's board and twisted. The board turned over and the guy hit the water on his back, his bony legs pumping in the air. Tony sprang on him before he could regain his balance, grabbed the guy's long arm and twisted it behind his back. The fellow yelled in pain. Tony, angry blood roaring through his head, shifted his weight and fell down on top of Mr. Bones, driving him underwater and holding him there with knees on his back. The guy struggled to free himself, but Tony's solid legs were like two pile drivers ramming him into the sand of the ocean bottom. Through the roaring in his head, Tony vaguely heard Frankie yell something. But the words were lost in the roar of the surf.
If a giant wave hadn't knocked Tony loose from his death grip on Mr. Basketball, he might have drowned him. The guy struggled to his feet, strangling and coughing. He lurched to shore, fell to his knees on the sand and vomited. The knobby bones of his spine stood out under his skin as he heaved. Then he fell to his stomach on the sand, moaning.
One of the other surfers, a short, stocky guy with a crew cut, waded up to Tony. "I saw him try to run you down," he said. "The bastard had it coming."
Mr. Basketball got to his feet shakily and walked, rubber-knead, away from the beach, rubbing one of his bony arms. He hadn't even bothered to retrieve his surfboard.
Frankie paddled up to Tony on her board. "Well, muscle-bound, did you satisfy your brute lust for blood?" She sounded a little put-out, but Tony noted that her eyes were sparkling with excitement.
Tony retrieved his surfboard and together they paddled out into the breakers. Lying prone on his board, Tony rode a few waves, then became cocky with self-confidence. He tried to get to his feet on the board and learned what Frankie had meant by "taking a pearl dive." He got off to a late start on a wave and it caught the stern of his board just as he was crawling to his feet. The turbulent water drove the prow of the board into the water, throwing Tony overboard. He fought his way to the surface, just as the wave flipped the surfboard over on top of him, smacking him across the backside.
Tony and Frankie spent the rest of the afternoon in the surf. Frankie's crowd seemed to have accepted Tony as a replacement for Mr. Basketball and gave him pointers on surfing techniques. The sun set, then darkness dropped rapidly over the beach. Somebody built a fire.
Tony and Frankie waded ashore, exhausted from their exertion. They sat down near the fire, thighs touching. One of the fellows took out a ukulele and began to strum it. The brunette who had rented Tony his board rose by the fire and began to dance the hula.
Frankie reached out and took Tony's hand. She placed it against one of her warm, smooth thighs and held it there, gazing into the reddish-yellow flames of the fire.
Tony glanced around at the rest of the group. They had been a single fun-loving unit that afternoon, but now they were pairing off, male and female.
There was heavy petting going on at the edge of the firelight. One girl with long beautifully-shaped legs was lying with her head on a guy's stomach. His hands were inside her bikini halter.
Tony moved closer to Frankie. He put his arm around her waist and she snuggled to him. His hand rested lightly across her tummy, just below the navel. He felt the muscles tremble slightly.
A yellow, full moon rose sluggishly over the ocean, casting a pale whitish glow over the beach. Couples were leaving the fire, melting into the shadows of the sand dunes with blankets under their arms. No one put more wood on the fire and the blaze flickered and went out, its coals glowing like bright red rubies in the darkness. Tony leaned down and kissed Frankie behind her ear. She turned and her hands glided up his chest to pull his head down to her warm, sensual lips. Her tongue wiggled through his parted lips, a hot little lance of desire which sought, then found his. Her lips tasted fresh, like a ripe tomato from the vine, with a faint tinge of salty spray. Tony embraced her tightly, and her lush, prodigious breasts were warm mounds against his chest.
'Oh, Tony," she whispered. "Let's go for a walk."
They rose and Tony reached down and picked up a blanket. Embracing, they strolled down the moonlit beach.
They had walked about fifty yards when they heard a splash and a giggle. Tony saw two wet, naked bodies gleaming in the moonlight. It was the brunette with the gorgeous legs and her boyfriend. They were knee-deep in the surf, playfully scooping up water in their hands and hurling it at one another. The guy moved toward her and they embraced as the surf frothed at their knees. His hands moved to her naked white buttocks and she locked her arms around his neck.
Her long, thin legs slid up his thighs and entwined his waist. They fell into the curling white water.
Pretending to ignore the pair, Frankie led Tony away from the beach and into the sheltered shadow of a large dune. Tony spread the blanket on the sand, then raised and embraced her roughly, his hands sliding down to cup her full, arching buttocks. She didn't protest. Instead, she rose on tip toes in the sand and thrust her over-sized breasts against his chest. She kissed him open-mouthed, her mischievous little tongue finding his, luring it like a hypnotized bird into her own mouth, then nipping it playfully with sharp white teeth.
Frankie moaned deep in her throat and they sank down slowly on the blanket. Tony embraced her again and her body thrust forward to press against his, hotly responsive from breasts to thighs. Her long red hair was a wild, unruly storm cloud about her neck and shoulders. Tony raised, his eager, nervous fingers fumbling to unhook her halter. He couldn't find the hook, but most of her lush breasts were out of her halter anyway, so he grasped the upper cups of the garment and tugged down. He moved his hands to her naked breasts and was shocked at what he found. They felt even larger than they had looked in the halter. His cupped hands couldn't begin to cover them: She had more tit than two average women could offer a man. The halter still encircled her chest just below the breasts, thrusting them up and out like an uplift bra. Her breasts were burning to his touch as if heated by a fire inside. His fingers found her nipples and explored them incredulously. They were large as the end of his thumb. As he touched them they came alive, twisting, distending until it seemed they were an inch long, as large as the over-sized nipples of a baby's bottle. He rolled them between his fingers. She squirmed on the blanket. "Oh, Tony ... Tony."
He bent forward and found a nipple with his lips. Moaning, she embraced his neck, pushing his head down into her hot, throbbing mounds as if trying to smother him. His tongue found a nipple and pressed it deep into the heart of her abnormal breasts, massaging. Her body tensed as if electrical current had slammed into it. She had super-breasts and they were super-sensitive. "Tony ... Tony ... oh ... oh."
Tony's hand slid down to her lower stomach. Trim little muscles corded there, straining. His tongue moved in fast little circles and her shoulders raised from the blanket as she sought to crush her breast against his face. Her little tummy heaved under his hand as she gasped and squirmed. Tony took her other nipple in his fingers and pinched it gently. The little muscles of her tummy corded, hard as iron. Her hips thrust up from the blanket and a guttural cry rose from deep within her throat. Her tummy contracted, then distended, contracted again in a spasm of nipups.
Tony leaned down. "Honey, did you?" he whispered, doubtful that her emotions had climaxed solely from his teasing.
"Yes ... oh, yes!"
Tony's loins were burning. He wanted her badly!
His hands moved to strip down her bikini pants. She caught his wrists. "No, Tony ... no. Not here on the beach. There are too many sex maniacs around. Last week a girl was mangled horribly. Let's go to my apartment. You can wait a little while, can't you?"
"You're worth waiting for, Frankie," he said. But Tony was swearing under his breath. Damned, illogical women. Here she was lying on her back, naked knockers jutting up like the twin peaks of Everest. Did she think that wouldn't be enough to set off any sex maniac?
Frankie pulled her halter up and rose. Tony picked up the rumpled blanket, shook the sand out of it and folded it under his arm.
Frankie's motel was a five-minute walk up the beach. She shivered as they trudged along in the sand and Tony wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. It was getting late and the breeze from the ocean brought a chill with it.
The motel was set well back from the beach amid grotesquely shaped sand dunes. It was a pink stone structure with asphalt walkways insetted with varicolored sea shells.
Frankie led him up to an apartment marked "7." She opened her beach bag and rummaged inside, looking for her key. Movement at the window caught Tony's eye and he glanced up. The drapes parted, then quickly closed. Tony caught a glimpse of a blurred female face.
Frankie was having a hard time finding her key.
"Will your uh roommate object to your bringing me in?" Tony asked.
Frankie glanced at the still-oscillating curtains. "She won't mind. She'll be in bed."
Frankie finally found the key and inserted it in the door.
"Does she go to your school?" Tony asked.
"No ... she's a Vassar girl," Frankie said impatiently, as if anxious to change the subject. She opened the door and they stepped inside.
The room was dimly lighted by a great stone table lamp in a corner. The apartment was more elegant than the one in which Tony was staying. This one had thick white carpets. Several ornate mirrors hung on the pink stone walls. It apparently had two bedrooms, but the door to one was closed. There was the faint odor of perfume in the apartment.
The scent was strangely familiar, but Tony didn't take time to think about it. He moved to embrace Frankie, but she side-stepped, smiling. She headed for the bedroom. "I'm going to take a quick shower to get the sand out of my hair," she said. She waved toward a small portable refrigerator in a corner. "Fix us a drink."
Tony walked over and opened the refrigerator. There was a decanter of orange juice and a fifth of vodka inside, both frosted. He took a couple of glasses from atop the refrigerator and poured them three-fourths full of juice. He topped off the juice with vodka and closed the refrigerator door.
Tony heard a shower sputter, then come on. He took a sip of his drink and glanced at the closed bedroom door. A shaft of light came from under it.
"Bring my drink in, Tony," Frankie called above the noise of the shower.
Tony carried the drinks into the bedroom. The bathroom door was open and the light was on. Tony glanced hopefully at the door to the shower stall, but it was of opaque glass. He walked into the bathroom. "Here we are. Two screwdrivers."
The shower door opened a crack and a suntanned arm came out. He passed the drink to her and the arm disappeared inside the stall.
Tony had an impulse to drop his trunks and jump into the shower with her, but he decided Frankie might not be as unconventional as Margo.
"Put on a record, Tony," Frankie called, "I'll be out in a minute."
Tony walked back into the living room. He found a portable record player and flicked on a switch. He noted that there was still a light in the other bedroom.
He heard a noise and turned. His eyes widened. Frankie was in the doorway, wearing a short black transparent negligee and black spike-heeled shoes. The garment scarcely covered her lower stomach and did little more than add a tinge of dark coloring to her nakedness. Her prodigious breasts jutted loosely into the wispy material, the pecan-sized nipples plainly visible. She had combed her flashing red hair back and tied it with a dark ribbon of the same material as her negligee. She smiled alluringly at Tony, then turned around sharply, the flimsy nightie curling about her body like puffs of thin smoke. His quick eyes caught a glimpse of white, naked buttocks.
Tony followed her into the bedroom like a hypnotized zombie. Vaguely he was wondering if the adage were true that red-haired women were hotter, more passionate bedmates.
Dim light from the living room spilled into the bedroom, leaving it in semigloom. Frankie was lying on her back on the bed, one leg raised seductively. She was still wearing her spiked-heeled shoes.
Tony kneeled by the bed and embraced her hungrily. Her body was sweetly perfumed and freshly talcum powdered. She embraced his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. They kissed fervently, tongues touching, caressing.
Tony's eager hands went to her glistening thighs, stroking, massaging. He lifted the hem of the nightie and pulled it up to just below her breasts. The fiery red hair of her head was closely matched by the lustrous fire below. He leaned down and kissed her tummy and felt it shiver deliciously under his lips. The flesh the bikini had covered was creamy white and satiny to his touch. There was an oval-shaped strawberry birthmark two or three inches below and to the right of her oval, deeply inset navel. Her eager fingers twisted in his air, guiding his head up her body to her throbbing, super-sensitive breasts. Tony kissed her mounds through the wispy material, then eased the garment up and over her head. Her lush breasts creamy white and outlined by tan jutted up at him, throbbing with an inner sexual pressure. Tony's throat constricted with longing. "They're beautiful, Frankie," he whispered, "beautiful...." In the light the nipples looked even larger than they had felt. They were like two great, oversized strawberries blood red with a waxy glow. Breathing heavily, she reached up and pulled his face to her breasts. He teased first one, then the other, massaging the strawberry nipples with his lips. She moaned, body stiffening. But this time Tony wanted more from her. He reached down and skinned away his swim trunks. He moved down until her hot, restless thighs touched his. She winced. "Oh...." Then her body heat seemed to be setting fire to his lower being.
Tony sensed at once that Frankie was relatively inexperienced compared to veteran Margo. Her hips were uncertain, defensive. It was going to be a pleasure to teach for a change. Tony's body took up a slow, slow rhythm, like the ageless rolling of the sea against the land. He grasped her nipples between fingertips, rolling and pinching them. Her hesitant hips became more demanding, her legs more restless. Her ankles crossed over and locked around his upper thighs, the spiked heels jabbing into his flesh like leather spurs. "Tony," she whispered urgently, "Oh, Tony ... dearest."
Through a fog of passion, Tony thought he heard a noise in the living room. He had a feeling that eyes were on them, watching.
He felt a pressure building in her lower tummy: like water mounting against a weakening dam. Her hips and buttocks rose from the bed to match his rhythm and thrust back demandingly. Tony retreated from her, leaving her moaning, gasping, teetering on the brink of a plunge to ecstasy through pink and purple perfumed clouds. Her hips became more pneumatic, almost vicious, as she sought to throw herself headlong into that glorious plunge to rapture. Her ankles crawled higher on Tony's thighs, jabbing ruthlessly as she sought to spur him over the brink. But each time she wavered on the edge, Tony retreated from her. She moaned and cursed and tinned her head to bite the pillow. "Tony ... please..." she pleaded urgently. "I've got to ... if I don't I'll die." Her searing heat set Tony's own body afire. And this time as they approached the edge, he couldn't hold back. He gasped and moaned with her as their bodies beat against one another like two gladiators in combat, each seeking his own desperate release. "Tony ... Tony!" she cried. Her face turned again and her strong white teeth clamped down on the pillow. Her tummy broke into rapturous spasms and a moment later he followed her in that long, retching plunge that drives the nerve ends crazy.
They lay for a long while entwined in their love embrace, savoring the warm, delicious aftermath as their racing hearts slowly subsided. Frankie drew a deep, quavering breath, then sighed deeply. "Oh, Tony," she exulted. "Where did you learn to make love like that? I've never been so close to passing out before."
Tony grinned with cocky assurance. "I've had a good teacher."
"I'll bet you have," she said, pouting with a bit of mock jealousy.
Tony rolled gently to one side as she reached for a pack of cigarettes on a night table. "God, I've got to have some joy weed to soothe my nerves," she said. "Want one?"
Tony shook his head. "The stuff makes me sick to my stomach."
Frankie took out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. She picked up a heart-shaped lighter, flicked it into flame and touched it to the reefer. She sucked the smoke into her lungs hungrily, sighing deeply as she exhaled.
"I could use another drink, though," Tony said. He rose from the bed, pulled on his swim trunks and walked into the living room. He found a fifth of bourbon on a shelf near the refrigerator, poured a glass half full and walked into the kitchen to fill it with water.
Tony stopped short in the doorway. A delightfully curved bottom, encased in skin-tight blue stretch shorts, was leaning against the sink. Buttocks vibrated as the brunette girl rinsed off dishes under the tap. She wore a white silk halter with large blue polka dots. Her raven-black hair, brushed straight back and tied with a polka dotted ribbon, gleamed with spitting, metallic luster under the overhead light. The suntanned skin of her shoulders had an almost olive-golden hue. Her legs were long, slender, beautifully shaped.
She sensed Tony's presence and turned sharply. Her oval face looked surprised as it had when Tony had barged upon her on the rock in the lagoon.