Chapter 6

John immediately noticed the work at my typewriter. He shook his head with an exasperated grin.

"Glutton for punishment," he remarked. "Thought we were going to have a moratorium on overtime for a while."

"I'm not having a breakdown," I said. "Good heavens, John! There's not that much work going on here!"

"Oh, come on! We're working like hell!"

"You people are; you're doing the creating. But it's not that big a strain for me. Big difference there."

"Hmph."

He hadn't put me down yet and I hoped he wouldn't think of it too soon. He peered around the room, then looked quizzically into my face. "Now. What's all the fuss about? Nightmare? Doze off at the desk and wake up to find the typewriter getting ready to gobble you up?"

"That's not fair!" I protested, then described the way the cat had acted. He wasn't likely to attribute that to my nerves. And without mentioning the footsteps or the chain or the scent I told him about the racket at the window.

He didn't say anything about the cat's behavior, but he did carry me to the window, which was open to the night. And with a gentle chuckle he set me on my feet and bent to pick something up from the floor beneath the window sill. He held it up-a long, gray-brown feather. I stared blankly at it for a moment, then gasped and began to laugh. "Owl?" I asked.

"Looks like." He slipped one arm around my waist and hugged me. "Now that's legitimate grounds for going to pieces! No, I mean it! Baby, as long as I've lived out here on the desert, I still get the hell scared out of me once in a while by a damned owl!" He turned the feather in his fingers, studying it thoughtfully.

"Making a collection?" I asked. "Why keep that?"

Still holding me in the angle of one arm, he placed the tip of the feather to my jaw and drew it across the skin. I was amazed at his control; the touch was so light I couldn't be sure whether the contact was continuous, and remarkable tingling sensations raced over me. No doubt the effect was aggravated by the intensity of emotion I held for him, but the gentle tickling aroused a whirlwind of erotic response in me. I gasped and tensed and my thighs clamped against each other as warmth surged to my pussy.

"Just a useful kind of thing to have around." He chuckled and maneuvered the tantalizing instrument along the line of my throat to its hollow.

"Oh, my!" I whispered. I lay back on his arm and closed my eyes to let the room steady itself. "Oh, my!" And I opened them and gazed into his face.

I knew my adoration showed; I couldn't have concealed it if I'd wanted to. And it wouldn't have been honest to try. John appeared to read my expression clearly. He smiled-a tender, warm smile-and continued to stroke the flesh around the base of my throat with the feather.

"Trouble with you is it's been all work and no play," he remarked gently.

"Oh, John, that's not so," I protested in a low voice. "I've got hours and hours of free time every day!"

He wasn't going to let me get away with that kind of evasive response. "Playtime, not free time. Sure you've had free time. But no play." He shook his head. "Rose told me at the first. She said not to neglect you."

"John-John, you hired me as a secretary. And that's what I came here for. I've gotten everything the contract called for. And being able to have Rolf out here has been a bonus you people gave me out of the goodness of your hearts."

"Sugar, don't fight it. You're not just going to an office to a job. You're living on the job. When a guy hires somebody to live on the job, he's got to see to it everything's there for living."

"But-"

"But you're all woman, Anne. I don't need Rose to tell me that. And I haven't done anything for that side of your living."

Another man could have said precisely the same words and made himself sound insufferably conceited and patronizing. When John said them he sounded apologetic and solemn and genuinely concerned about me. And somehow we'd gotten across the room to the couch. We sank onto it and I found myself halfway lying across him, supported by his arm while he traced invisible, thrilling patterns with the feather.

I laughed with a catch in my voice. "John-honey-I don't see how you can apologize for that. I've never figured my boss was responsible for supplying my sex life-especially when he was happily married." I had to grin, then. "In fact, I'd have thought a boss was presumptuous if he got the idea that was his duty."

He sighed, evidently pleased I'd been willing to mention sex explicitly. "I know that, puss. I know that. But you mean more to us than most women could. There's something about the way you handle life that fits. And we think it's unfair to deny ourselves-or you-the pleasure of that outlook."

It was a horrible time to find myself speechless. There just didn't seem to be anything I could say. The phrases that flashed into my mind were either conventional and stuffy or gushy and unlike me. And I was trying so hard to think of the right comment I wasn't paying attention to my expression. I realized finally I was simply smiling up at him, my eyes half-closed and my lips parted while they waited for me to tell them what to say. John smiled tenderly and lowered his head and pressed his mouth to mine. A wave of heat washed over me as I caught the back of his head with my hand and gulped at his lips. It was a greedy kiss. After the first second or two neither of us maintained much reserve. I wolfed his lips and he rocked his head and flattened my eager lips over my teeth. His tongue explored my thrusting skin and I sucked it into my mouth with a convulsive gulp and mauled it with my own. And through the fierce pressure, I mumbled to him.

"John-mmm-mmm-John, love-mmmmmm...."

He surfaced at last, raising his head and smiling contentedly down at me. I know there were tears of happiness in my eyes, because his dear face was blurred and the room's dim light looked wavery. I let him lower my shoulders and when he began to caress my throat with the feather again I let my head drop back and shivered with delight.

He didn't confine the delicious strokes to my throat. The supple barbs at the tip brushed my lips and teased my eyelids and drove me out of my mind when they fluttered along the creases around my ears. My breasts heaved with my agitation and I blew my breath softly past pursed lips.

"Oh, John! John, darling! Omigod, the things that does to me!"

"Pretty special tool," he commented lightly.

I was going to feel that magical touch all over my body, I was confident. And before he left my sitting room he was going to use another very special tool where the feather wouldn't reach. The awareness rushed over me and fired a wild impatience I couldn't contain. I twisted on his arm and pulled myself up to press against him.

"Darling," I whispered. "Darling, I'd like to have my clothes off."

"I'd like that, too, puss."

With a calm I didn't feel, I disengaged myself from his grip and stood. Unhurried and deliberate, he began to undress me. To my surprise, he unzipped my skirt and worked it off first. I think he sensed my unspoken question, because he took my hands and smiled as he studied me.

"Used to work from the other end," he commented. "Blouse, bra-refreshing to look at a woman who's dressed from the waist down and nude from there up. But you've got such good legs and hips I figured this would accent the length and taper."

With a bewildered feeling of unreality I let him lead me into the bedroom, where he showed me what he meant. It was true. In the full-length mirror I could see how right he was. My blouse was a fitted one, and the waist clung snugly to my flesh and there was a flare that lay smoothly on the upper slopes of my hips. The panties I wore were brief and filmy, but I wore them over pantyhose and the nylon-sheathed taper of my legs did make me look like a long-legged, seductive creature out of a model agency.

"Okay," I said with a gulp. "You made your point."

We returned to the sitting room, where he removed the superfluous panties and started unbuttoning my blouse. I rested my hands on his shoulders to quiet their trembling. The blouse sprang open as the buttons came unfastened, and soon I had to drop my arms to my sides so the garment could fall from them. John reached around me to unhook my bra and I took advantage of the situation to thrust myself against him briefly. The tight band loosened and sagged away from my flesh and he held me, his hands warm and dry on my back. But in a moment he drew away and worked the straps off my shoulders.

When he laid the bra aside he looked at me for a long time without doing anything else. "God, what a lovely pair of breasts!" he exclaimed. "You can't be the age your application says!"

"Maybe not, but I am."

"For a woman your size! Honey, they're proud enough to salute the flag!"

"John! For goodness sake!"

He used the feather again before undressing me further. While I clasped my hands desperately at the small of my back, he dragged the tip over the bulging surfaces of my boobies and around my nipples in tight circles. I gasped sharply and watched the pink lumps swell and lengthen.

"Oh, golly!" I exclaimed. "Good God, honey! What a sensation!"

Goose bumps popped out all over me. John grinned and teased one nipple with the fine barbs at the end of the feather. The nipple hardened and drew itself into deep puckers while my breast throbbed. I felt my self-control slipping fast, and my hips twisted urgently while I fought to keep my boobie still for him.

He paused and stared critically, then grinned. "Can't have that; no symmetry!" And he applied the disastrous touch to my other breast.

My composure had evaporated. I was writhing shamelessly and digging at his shoulders with my nails. Foolish exclamations were bubbling from my lips and my breath was hissing fiercely through my teeth.

"God, John! You're turning me into a savage!"

He nodded, with satisfaction plain in his eyes. "Of course! Only a savage can fuck right. A civilized woman has too many hang-ups!"

He laid the feather aside and began to roll down the top of my pantyhose. As my lower belly came into view it shrank back, the muscles flinching involuntarily at my consciousness of his gaze. And I shuddered at his soft chuckle when the first strands of pubic hair sprang erect before him.

"Ha! Had an idea the color was honest!" he remarked in a triumphant tone. "Honey-blonde from one end to the other!"

"That's just the way it grew."

"Sure. Wait'll Blaine sees that! He doesn't believe pussy hair comes in light colors."

"Blaine!" I started violently. "Oh, no! I'll be damned!"

"Oh, relax! You're going to love the things Blaine does. He's a goddamn artist!"

"He scares me to death! I wouldn't let him near me with a ten-foot pole!" I felt myself flush, conscious of having twisted the metaphor. "I mean-"

John laughed easily. "Don't worry. He doesn't have a ten-foot pole. But he can make you feel like he does. Ask Rose! And by the time he gets to you with it you don't care; you haven't got enough judgment left to know the difference!"

"Oh, please, darling! Don't! I don't like him; he's too suave!"

"Well, we can talk about that some other time." He slipped my shoes off and carefully worked the pantyhose off my feet.

I stood quivering and naked before him while he touched his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Baby, they couldn't have done a better packaging job!" His tone was alive with enthusiasm. "Deluxe model the whole way!"

I shivered again and suddenly, unthinking, cringed and hugged myself. John's eyes flickered and he grabbed me, cuddling me tenderly.

"Easy, baby. Easy. Take it a step at a time. I forgot you weren't used to the Casa yet."

"What's that mean? Used to the Casa?"

"We'll talk about it sometime. Right now I want you, Anne. Just you."

"Oh, John, darling! John, you've got me! John, I love you!"

"Yes," he said. "It's got to be that way. There's got to be love."

He turned me, then, and reached for the feather. Still holding me with one arm but letting me stand away from him and facing me at an angle, he began caressing me with the feather. It was a devastating experience. My flesh seemed to crawl at the wispy touch and sensations crowded over each other. I forgot my self-consciousness and yielded to the thrill of the unique sensation. I let him turn and twist and bend me as he wished, writhing as each position change tuned another set of fibers to the incredible signals of the feather.

For a time, I hung back over his arm while the soft barbs tickled my belly and the inner front slopes of my thighs. And when he turned me and bent me with my ass up, I hung limply, fingers at my shins and feet clear of the floor, while the feather produced breathtaking sensations in my buttocks and along the winking crack between them. When he laid me on the couch and thrust my knees apart, I clenched my fists in anticipation of the pleasure I knew my pussy was going to transmit.

The feathery touch on my pussylips unhinged my control. My hips leaped and I twisted frantically. But John directed the teasing implement as if he'd used one all his life. And when he stripped back the hood of my clitoris with his thumb and one finger and tickled the sides of the tiny organ with the delicate barbs, I was completely beside myself with pleasure.

But he didn't let me get used to the marvelous sensation. While I was still settling my buttocks into their own depression in the couch cushion, he slipped the feather away from my pussy and ran it slowly down the inner side of my leg, letting the tip linger near my knee and then drawing it over my calf and around my ankle to the bottom of my foot. Moving to the other foot, he started a long, hesitant, tantalizing stroke up that leg. My pussy puckered and my belly tightened as anticipation grew. I held my breath while the feather tickled the crease outside the pussylips. And my sigh was one of sheer ecstasy when he finally drew it across the quivering lip onto the sensitized inner membranes.

He parted my distended pussylips to expose the mouth of my cunt and applied the feather to the thick, trembling rim. I threw my head back and ground it against the cushion, writhing with delight and hunger for his cock. And I cried out when he stripped my clitoris and again teased the erect cylinder with the feather.

In the moments when I was capable of meaningful action, I clawed at his clothes. Without interrupting the incessant stimulation, he let me undress him. When he was naked at last I caught his massive cock in one hand and clung to it as if it would steady me. Each time he shifted his weight I tugged at the delectable handle until I had it within reach, and then I rolled my head and twisted until I could kiss the darkened cockhead. My lips played over the broad slopes, stripping them of their wetness and caressing the velvety skin. And little by little I worked them over it until I enclosed the whole bulging knob in my mouth.

John's thighs tensed and I grabbed one and pulled at it. He yielded to my urging and swung his leg across me, facing me while he knelt astride my head. I tilted his cock and worked it deeper into my mouth, his balls resting on my throat and his buttocks warming my chest. But even as I began to suck seriously, he gently pulled free.

"John! Please!"

"Easy, sugar. Easy." He chuckled and reversed himself, still astride my head but with his back to me. And he lowered himself over me, his hands slipping under me and closing on my buttocks while his mouth went to my pussy.

With a sigh of delight, I caught at his ass, jerking down while he slowly extended his legs and lowered his cock into my gulping mouth again. My knees strained apart at the sensation of pussy flesh being engulfed in his mouth. While he chewed and sucked and his tongue probed deeply, I gobbled at his cockhead, sucking it to the arch of my throat and scrubbing it with my tongue.

Sometime during the greedy, noisy sucking, we rolled onto our sides, still clinging together and still hungrily eating at each other. He grabbed my clitoris and worried it with his tongue while sucking vigorously at it. I bobbed my head, running my lips back and forth along the last inch of his cock shaft and bumping the end of the head against the back of my throat. Tiny driblets of his thin fluid oozed from the slit and I sucked them into my throat and swallowed eagerly, my mouth puckering and my jaw working spasmodically.

When he abandoned my clitoris and thrust his tongue into my cunt, gobbling a great mouthful of the surrounding pussy flesh and chewing on it while his tongue drove inward, I slammed my cunt hard on his face and jerked madly at his cock, certain we were going to come that way.

But John had other plans. At the last moment he groaned and pulled his cock away again, releasing the tingling mouthful of pussy and thrusting himself up.

"Christ, baby! We match pretty good!"

"John! Oh, John, darling! Don't stop now! I want to come!"

He laughed and scrambled to his feet, stretching mightily and turning a loving grin on me. I could hardly tear my gaze from the splendid bulk of his cock. My belly churned and my thighs ached with my longing. But I did feel a glorious sense of exhilaration and freedom; there was a joyous atmosphere in the room now and I could have laughed at the most frightening ghost.

I leaped from the couch and flung myself on John. He staggered backward, laughing and clutching at me, and dropped onto my typing chair. With a sudden, savage jerk, he yanked me astride his lap and crushed me to him. I still stood, legs widespread and boobies bracketing his face. But he caught at my knees and forced them further and further apart while I slid down his body. I felt the hot bulk of his cockhead settle at my cunt and lifted my feet from the floor. With a searing plunge, I engulfed his cock, burying the head in the core of my belly and settling to the base of the shaft.

"UNNHHH! Ooooh, John, John! It's so much!"

"Christ, the heat in that pussy!" he grunted. "Great, baby! Just great"

I tried to bounce on the rigid cock, but my feet kept slipping and ruining the cadence. John laughed happily and fingered my buttocks. "Want to do it yourself, puss?" he asked.

"Yes!" I grunted explosively. "Oh, John, I want to fuck you the first time!"

"Okay. Try this." He grasped my ankles and lifted, pulling them up behind me while my knees swung downward in an arc until my thighs, sharply angled, pointed straight toward the floor. He laid my insteps on his thighs, the soles of my feet upward, and I discovered I could cling to him with my feet and lever myself up and down with a delightful, springy bounce. Delirious with joy at the control I had, I surged furiously on his cock, pumping myself on it while he leaned back and stabbed it high into my guts.

The sensation was one of raw, savagely beautiful fulfillment. My excitement rocketed and waves of buzzing pleasure shook me. My belly knotted and throbbed and I could feel every nudge of the bulbous cockhead at its center. John seized my hips with his hands. He squeezed and kneaded, and his thumbs worked slowly around until they touched each side of my clitoris, but he let me do the fucking without interference. As he thumbed my clitoris my lust cascaded through me. I yelled firercely and battered him with my blows. My boobies leaped crazily and my hair flew in a jerking cloud.

"Ahhh! Oh, Jesus!" John groaned and reddened, the cords in his neck standing out as my motion drove his excitement up. "You fuck like a goddamn expert, Anne! UNNHHH! When I come it's going to blow you right through the ceiling!"

"Hang-onto me-then!" I panted and flogged myself harder on him.

I didn't care whether he blew me through the ceiling or not. I was gorging myself on that beautiful cock and he was handling me and looking at me as if he loved me and the whole world was mine. I was going to come in a matter of seconds, and when I did I wouldn't be conscious of anything else in the world.

I grated words at him hoarsely as the knot in my belly began to quiver in the first, tentative twitches of orgasm.

"FUCK, DARLING! FUCK, FUCK! UP HARD, DARLING! AGGHHH!"

His hips drove upward and I jammed myself onto the base of his cock, holding myself there while a fierce tremor shook me and violent contractions twisted my vagina. His cock jerked convulsively and the heat of his cum warmed my gut. I whimpered with the ferocity of the orgasm and ground myself on the hardness at the root of his cock. And when the spasms began to subside, I let my feet slide from his thighs and swung them forward so I could clamp my thighs on his lean hips.

He pulled me against himself and held me, his hands stroking my back with short, nervous jerks. Only then did I realize how much we'd exerted ourselves. Sweat rolled off us and there was a hot pool of it where our bodies met. We both gasped noisily for air and our mouths were wet while we greedily continued to kiss each other's flesh in the aftermath of the mating.

John groaned happily. "God, you fuck wildly, Anne! Wish I'd asked you a month ago!"

"The very first day, John!" I sighed and hugged him. "I loved you so, the very first day I was ready!"

"And I wasted all that time." He groaned again, then laughed. "Glad I didn't wait any longer. Made a lot better selection than I realized when I hired you. You're our kind of woman!"

I squirmed on his softening cock and decided I could afford to be blunt. "You-the four of you don't worry about who's married to whom, do you?"

He chuckled. Only when we get around to filing our income tax returns. Of course, each couple has a separate bedroom. But we keep things circulating."

"What about Maria?"

"Maria? She'll circulate. She wants to pick her own time, but there'll come a day when she's ready to start."

"But she knows."

"Oh, sure! Why not? Funny kid, Maria. Can't figure why she hasn't gotten started yet! She's as hot as a red pepper! Practically turns inside out sometimes resisting the urge! Maybe she's waiting for some kind of special sign or something before giving up her cherry."

"She's terribly intense. She resents me, John. I get the idea she's reliving the feud between Lolita and Jennifer."

"Oh, I doubt it. Anyhow, we'd all like you to become part of the group. Think you could reserve judgment of Blaine long enough to give us a chance?"

I answered in a low, hesitant voice. "I-I don't really want to, John. But I don't have any kind of experience to go on. If-if you want me to I will."

"Just for me? For me, Anne?" He sounded startled, as if he hadn't really believed me when I'd said I loved him.

"John, I love you." I said it quietly and evenly. "I love you. I'll do anything you ask me to do." And to take the solemnity and the possible sense of threat out of the words I grinned and added, "Once. The second time will have to be because the first time was fun." That didn't sound quite right, either, and I tried once more. "I don't want to sound sober, honey. But I mean it. Anything! And as long as it doesn't cripple me or something awful like that I'll never refuse. Even that damn Blaine!"

He laughed, his guffaws bouncing me on a cock that should have been limp by then but wasn't. "Jesus, woman! Oh, how I wish Gamiski could have heard that! He'd be fit to be tied! Hey, speaking of tying! If I asked you, would you let me tie you for a session?"

I shivered, remembering the only experience I'd had with that helpless, wild sensation of sex in bondage. But I nodded. "Yes. I trust you."

"Someday, then." And he gave me a bear hug I thought would crack my ribs.