Chapter 1
Sally Walker was three weeks into the fall term at Wisconsin Central University when she received a phone call from the Business Office informing her of a lack of funds for either her scholarship or a student loan. The pretty blonde's mother had written a few days earlier to say that the check she sent each month would be delayed if it came at all so Sally was forced to do what she'd been dreading all summer. She hated the idea of taking a job, knowing it would cut into her "A" grade-point, but there wasn't any other choice.
There were no job openings at the Student Employment Office and so on Friday afternoon, she pounded the pavement from one local store to another. All the shop-girl openings had been filled in early September, and for the more interesting jobs she had to be twenty-one and graduated from college Sally was nineteen and a sophomore. That left waitressing at one of the student hangouts in the university town.
Niko's Restaurant already had two waitresses, and the proprietor suggested she check the Burger Palace on the outskirts of town. Sally took a bus out on the highway and discovered the car-hop opening had been filled a half hour before she'd arrived. That left the Airliner which had been the last place on her list. The "Liner" was a bar frequented by frat boys and visiting businessmen; it had a reputation for its "posh atmosphere" and the expensiveness of its drinks. The few times Sally'd been there, she'd seen it was the dim lighting and the "living room" arrangement of its booths that made it more like a cocktail lounge than just another student tavern.
Now it was late afternoon. Sally noticed the dwindling light shining dimly through the tinted glass windows after she'd entered the 'Liner. Three students sat in a booth behind the illuminated juke-box, and there was a tall man standing at the bar. He identified himself as Bill Larson, the manager and owner, and right off she had the feeling he didn't approve of her. He said he didn't like students working at the 'Liner...they were always quitting at the end of a semester. Then his scowl turned into a slight smile of interest...which didn't have much significance, she thought, since any attraction he had for her didn't necessarily mean he was going to hire her.
Larson asked the curvaceous blonde her age...he inquired briefly about her waitressing experience. All the while, she could feel him undressing her with his eyes, as so many male students and professors of hers had done over the last year at WCU. Sally was beautiful...she looked statuesque, though she actually stood slightly shorter than normal. Then one noticed her blonde hair cascading down past her shoulder blades, tousling back from her high forehead, all windblown and thick and straight. Her eyes were sky blue, and she had flawless skin, a lovely luminous white, soft and blushing into faint pink on the undersides of her high cheekbones.
"You sure you're twenty-one?" He didn't look at her face but at her long blonde hair.
"Of course I'm sure," she lied, and her palms broke out with perspiration. Somehow, lying made her realize how desperate she was.
"Well, go on downstairs. To the first door on your right. Kitty'll be with you in a second."
Bill Larson turned back to his coffee at the bar, and Sally moved toward the back of the room and clambered down the stairs. Finally, she found the room no more than a cubbyhole in the basement and sat down in the extra chair across from the beat-up desk.
"Good morning!" a voluptuous auburn-haired girl in clinging bell bottoms strutted into the room and sat down in the chair behind the desk. Sally's eyes caught on her shoes high stacked heels then dashed up to her skin-tight sweater. Is SHE going to interview me? she thought.
Ignoring her, the redhead unlocked the top drawer and took out a wad of bills. Wide-eyed, Sally watched her count out five hundred dollars, stuff the rest of the money back in the drawer, and locked it up again.
"Mmmmmm," the girl who must've been Kitty glanced up from the desk. "What hours you available?"
"Well, right now, I've got classes all day, but I've got to cut down to half-time."
"You mind standing?" the redhead swiveled around in the desk chair and faced Sally.
"Pardon?"
"I've got to see what you look like, and I can't when you're crunched up in that chair."
"Oh...just a minute," Sally moved her purse from her lap to the floor. Feeling awkward, she stood up. The girl's eyes flicked approvingly over her wide-set blue eyes and full pink lips. Then, a blush began crawling up from the young blonde's neck as her eyes flicked down to her body. Kitty smiled slightly at her generously formed breasts, holding her glance there for a seeming eternity before moving on to her slender well-formed legs.
"Turn around," the girl said.
Sally felt her leg being to tremble as Kitty studied her young body, dressed in a sweater and mini-skirt, from behind. She could almost feel her eyes on the firm, rounded mounds of her buttocks beneath her short skirt. Glancing nervously back over her shoulder, she saw Kitty smile with appreciation.
"I think you'll like it here," the girl said.
Sally relaxed. "I hope so."
"When I came to the 'Liner, I knew less about this business that you do. Now...I've got my share of weekend dates," A gaudy bracelet tinkled as she brushed a strand of red hair from her forehead.
"Dates?"
"Never mind...it's nothing you have to worry about now."
Sally frowned. "I've never waitressed before...it sort of scares me, all those people!"
"Well...can you begin tonight?"
"I suppose so," Sally shrugged.
"Good...you'll like it here. Just take it easy this evening since it's your first night...and
Bill'll probably want to give you a ride home," Kitty looked like that made her angry for a moment, but then she smiled and walked the pretty coed to the bottom of the stairs.
When Sally came out of the 'Liner, she walked down to the corner Rexall for a cup of coffee. Sitting down at the counter, she brought her purse up to her lap and took out that latest letter from her mother. It was postmarked October 10 Goodwin, Wisconsin and Sally could just imagine her beautiful mother complaining to all her hair-netted customers about Sally as she hastily scribbled off the penciled note. Her divorcee mother was the fun-loving type, and she couldn't fathom her pretty daughter's interest in school at all. She'd never understood Sally's ambitiousness and proud manner . . .
Over the past year, letters between the two had been infrequent at best. Now, crumpling the note into a ball and dropping it into the ashtray, Sally decided not to write home for another month or two. She had too many problems to deal with, and somehow her mother's letters always brought her down. Basically, her mother was jealous of her, she analyzed...as were most of Sally's friends back in Goodwin who had married right out of high school. Small town people, Sally had decided long ago, were all pretty much the same...they wanted to drag everybody down to their level...didn't want anyone to get ahead...like Sally meant to do.. .
Sally'd just gotten rid of her last order when the overhead lights dimmed and everyone seemed to get up at once. "They sure move out of here fast," she said to Kitty, coming back to the bar and dropping her tray on the counter for the last time.
"That's because it's 'making out time'. . . " the redhead lit another cigarette and winked.
Sally watched as the older girl went behind the bar for a cloth, then crossed out into the emptied room, beginning to wipe off tables. She was obviously a favorite with the crowd that hung out there. Now, doing a kind of dance step toward another booth, she shimmied in time to the loud rock music still blaring from the jukebox.
"Bill, I'm getting off early Saturday, right?" she said to Larson, strutting down the aisle from the kitchen.
"What's it this time, Kitty?" Larson laid his arm around her shoulder and bent his head.
"I've got a date," the redhead's mouth was a scant inch from his.
Sally looked uncomfortably away as the tall, blond-haired man's mouth came down on the waitress's teasingly parted lips. Even from this distance she could tell it was a French kiss, the proprietor's tongue splurging wetly into Kitty's slightly opened mouth. Sally was a virgin and sexually inexperienced to the point that she'd only been kissed three times like that. Not that plenty of boys hadn't tried . . .
The young blonde jumped up from the stool and ducked around the bar. By the time she found a bar cloth, Larson had drawn the redhead's twisting body tight up against him, his hands cupping her squirming buttocks. They struggled playfully for a good minute when suddenly Kitty shoved her hands against his chest, and they broke apart laughing.
The next thing Sally knew, Larson moved on to the bar. He came around to where she stood behind the counter and snatched the bar cloth from her hand. "You don't need to clean up...not tonight, anyway," he said. "Sit down. I'll make you another drink."
Sally took a deep gulp from the glass of Scotch that Larson had already given her so he wouldn't see she hadn't even tasted the first drink and climbed up on a stool. Behind her, Bill was singing along with the music while Kitty progressed to the next booth as though nothing had happened. He placed the second Scotch by her elbow without comment and headed back toward the kitchen, Kitty following after.
Sally forced down the rest of her first drink and moved on to the next. Ordinarily, she didn't drink at all not really being twenty-one but she didn't want to antagonize anyone her first night on the job. Larson obviously drank a lot had already drunk a lot tonight and right now she couldn't afford to be labeled as a drudge who ruined everyone's good time.
She took another sip of the Scotch and tried to peek discreetly in the direction of the kitchen. There was nothing but a clatter of glasses, punctuated by laughter. Charles, the stocky, pimply-faced dishwasher, was back there too. Sally wondered about her boss and the waitress. It was hard to tell if Larson was Kitty's boyfriend or if they'd simply been fooling around. Maybe they didn't know themselves -everyone around here just seemed to keep moving without giving much thought to anything.
Suddenly, Larson re-entered from the kitchen again. Crossing in front of Sally's booth, he stopped to pat her long blonde hair, pulling it around from the back so it hung over her youthfully jutting breasts beneath her sweater. Sally hoped he wasn't going to try the same thing as he did with Kitty . . .
"I'll fix us another one," he said instead and moved behind the bar.
Sally turned around, wondering if she should protest.
"C'mon, drink up," he answered her question. "I'm celebrating. . . Anyway, we don't do this every night," he added reassuringly.
He took off again for the back room, leaving her with her third drink.
Yesterday afternoon she'd been so nervous practically in a state of shock that he'd been no more than a frightening male voice speaking through the haze of her confusion. Actually, he was nice looking, she thought now, stocky, blond, older than she'd estimated, probably in his late thirties. She still hadn't had a real conversation with Larson; he had done nothing more than introduce her to Charlie, the dishwasher, when she came in and give her drinks . . .
"Sally, finish up your drink. We're closing," Larson called from the rear of the bar.
The young blonde tilted the glass and climbed down from the bar stool, going to the kitchen to get her sweater. Everyone but Larson, who stood at the back door of the small room, had left.
"I forgot those glasses on the counter," she suddenly remembered.
"That's okay. Charlie'll get them in the morning," he flicked the light switch and the front room went dark. "I'll give you a ride home."
"No, it's only six blocks. I'm still living in the dorm."
"That's okay. It's right on the way," he had motioned her out the door and now she stood behind him in the alleyway, watching him lock up.
Outside, the street-lights from Hilton played over the shapes of trash barrels and illuminated the sudden movement of a cat. Sally saw Kitty turning at the end of the alley. The alluring redhead, wearing a tarn and an extra sweater thrown over her shoulders, gave them a half-hearted wave and disappeared onto Hilton. Sally wondered why Larson wasn't giving her a ride home, too, but it wasn't the kind of question you asked.
"It's down here," the tavern owner motioned toward the hulking shape of a car.
Minutes later, the young blonde and her boss had turned out of the alleyway and were speeding down deserted Hilton. They passed a patrolman sitting in his car across from the Airliner on the side of the quad, and when they shot through the green light, Kitty gave them a second wave, a strange look of irritation glowing in her eyes.
"I bet you like rock music," Larson shoved a tape in the deck. "Yes."
Sally glanced around the interior of the expensive car. It was a sports model with bucket seats and a leathery smell and must have cost the tavern owner a fortune. "You can let me out here," she pointed to the corner diagonal to the dorm.
"Let's have some of this. We've got to stay high," Larson pulled a bottle from under the seat.
It suddenly dawned on Sally that he wasn't going to stop. Instead of pulling up at the stop sign on the corner, he continued right on down Hilton, heading toward the fraternity section. They'd sped past ten or twelve Greek houses when he spun onto a side street and came to a sudden stop. Apparently changing his mind, he shoved the bottle back under the seat.
"You know, you've got a very sexy body, but you've still got to learn how to use it," he rested his hand on her shoulder and his fingers tugged playfully at her long blonde hair. Suddenly, he pulled her a little closer to his side and eased his hand down to her upper arm, making the little blonde hairs stand on end as he gently stroked her bare flesh.
"Hey!" she jerked away from him.
"I figured you'd do that!"
Suddenly, he was drawing her face to his with both hands clasped around her neck so she couldn't pull back. Their lips met and his tongue played lightly against her mouth 'till with sudden effort it slipped wetly inside . . .
"No!" Sally gasped and tried to squirm away, but he'd placed his hands firmly on her twisting shoulders. Whichever way she swayed, her fearfully quivering breasts pressed like small swelling balloons against his chest.
"Pleeasse," she moaned for breath.
"Let's have a drink," he reached to the floor and found the bottle.
"You've already had too much, Bill," she said. "Why don't you let me walk home?"
"You certainly are the cool type, aren't you? That's the whole trouble with you."
Sally started. "I suppose you'd like me to be angry."
"Now I didn't say that! But from the calm way you act, this can't be the first time a guy's made a pass at you."
"Thanks for the ride home," she reached toward the door handle when Larson snapped her around so that she was facing him again.
"You ain't going nowhere," he said.
An intoxicated leer hardened his features as he tightened his hands on her shoulders. Again, he kissed her wetly on the mouth, forcing his tongue between her lips 'till it tickled softly against her own.
"I've got classes in the morning," Sally finally managed to push him away.
"We're having a great time. Hell, what're you talking about. . . classes?"
Leaning against her, he began nibbling on her ear, and little tingles went down Sally's neck as his searching tongue traveled lightly over her goose bumped flesh. Now he was kissing her neck and shoulders while his hands slipped up and down her trembling arms.
"Is this what you normally do, the first night with a new girl on the job?" Somehow, she didn't really believe this was happening to her. It seemed ridiculous struggling with a man who less than an hour ago had been an authority figure her boss.
"You're different, Sally."
"I bet!"
Suddenly, Larson squeezed one of her resilient young breasts and Sally twisted back and struck her head on the door. "OW!" she winced at the pain.
She tried to unlatch the door, but he snapped the button shut and pulled her to him. Bill was too drunk to be reasoned with and she rapidly lost her composure. "I want you to drive me home...now!" she said in a quavering voice.
"Not till I get my chance to see them tits." He grabbed her arm and held it so tightly she fell forward with her head on his shoulder. Any move she made now only increased the pain in her arm.
With his free hand, Bill grasped at her sweater and eagerly began undoing the small buttons, but had trouble with them. In his exasperation, he inadvertently tore her sweater down to the third button, exposing the lush white curves of her brassiere-clad breasts to his lewd gaze.
"No . . . ! " Sally tried to cover herself, but he gripped tighter and another painful spasm went through her arm.
Larson inserted his hand in her lacy white brassiere and began fondling her full round breasts, stroking back and forth over her pertly distended nipples which poked up under the sheer covering like pale cherries on twin ice-cream cones. In spite of herself, Sally could feel a strange weakening in her belly...Her high school boyfriend had touched her breasts only once and she especially wasn't used to having her little nipples teasingly caressed!
"Let go!"
"Keep still, you crazy little bitch!" he pushed her against the cushiony seat back. Before she recovered from the surprise, his devouring mouth clamped wetly over her own, and he was pulling her sweater off her shoulders and down to her waist.
"Damn," he breathed in the stillness as he took in the dual milk-like orbs of her breasts catching light off the street lamp. Now his fingers were prodding at Sally's white-laced brassiere from the front, but the clasp in back held it tight so he had to tug again the elastic band broke, releasing her voluptuously large mounds.
"Oh...for God's sakes . . . " Sally gaped down at her naked breasts lewdly swaying and jiggling as she tried to pull away from him. She squirmed helplessly on the seat as Bill fastened his mouth around one bulleted little nipple. She could feel it distending as he sucked and nibbled salaciously, limning his tongue in rapid wet circles until an unwanted licentious feeling fluttered through her tightening belly.
"All right, we'll make it quick," Larson finally bent away from her and swigged from the bottle.
"You won't do anything at all. Not if I can help it," she said.
"C'mon, Sally...I hate getting rough," he grabbed her hand.
Sally tried to keep her hand in her lap, but he guided it forcefully to his slacks. "Nooooooo...pleeeeeeeease!" She managed to make a fist, but his grip on her wrist grew vise-like and then her hand went limp. She looked down at his pants and saw the lewd bulge of his erect penis making his slacks stand up obscenely like a small tent. God. . . she thought, he's going to make me touch him...she'd almost done that with Jamie Thompson in high school. Actually, she'd liked it, but that was when she'd stopped. Besides, she'd been going steady with Jamie and she hardly even knew Larson.
Sally's eyes widened as the bartender unzipped his fly with his free hand and then unloosened his belt. His cock stood up, rigidly thick and thrusting out his jockey shorts in a pole-like shape...He struggled with his slacks and shorts for a moment, till he'd pulled them down over his erection, and the sight of his nakedly throbbing hardness just inches away from her hand made her go hot and cold with fear. What did he think he was doing; She'd never seen a man's excitedly erect penis before Jamie's had been a slender boy's cock, and it wasn't as big around or as long as Bill's.
Sally's eyes bulged wider as he pulled back the loose foreskin, exposing the mushroom-shaped head. She was surprised his cock-head was so large; its small opening was staring up at her salaciously and there was a pearl of secreted lubricant at the end. She could see thick massive veins webbing the underside of his massive shaft, revealing the entire length of his long hard penis.
"Reach down and touch my cock," he said.
"Bill...you're crazy. I'll do no such thing," she said.
"You heard me. Hold my cock in your hand. You'll like it, honey, all girls do once they get the feel of it."
"I will not...this is absolute nonsense! I've never been so . . . "
"Hell, I just got to make you," he said, and guided her hand to his stiffly erect penis, slowly grazing the ridges of her fingers over the blunt tip-end. It felt warm and stone-hard. She could feel his pulsating flesh-pole expand at her uneasy touch, nudging impatiently up against her trembling fingers. "Now hold it...nice and gentle, and then jerk on my prick nothin' to it," he said in the manner of a teacher instructing a shy pupil in obscenity.
Bill's grasp tightened on Sally's wrist, forcing her hand open; the pain became unbearable, and to oblige him she clasped her hand limply around his quivering shaft. She knew he wanted her to give him pleasure, but she wasn't sure exactly how to do it. To avoid any more pain, to get things over with, she began squeezing and massaging his bulbously throbbing cock's head until she could feel his pre-cum moistening her fingers.
"Now...bend down and suck my cock!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh...NO!" She tried to pull away again, but he forced her to continue jerking up and down on his blood-engorged penis.
"I mean what I say...Go on. Suck it, you bitch!"
"Don't speak to me that way. It's horrible," she moaned, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Well, I guess I'm a little too anxious," he admitted soberly.
"Then, can I stop this?" She gazed down at his thickly veined cock pulsing in her hand. "I'm not exactly used to . . . "
"All right.. . " His voice trailed off reluctantly.
"Thank God," she said, and released her hand, but he pulled it back to his rigidly straining penis rearing up like a tree-trunk from his loins.
"We'll arrange a little cock-sucking at a better time...when you're more experienced...but don't stop jerking me off now!"
"Ooooh," Sally cried as light from a car racing down the main street flashed over her nakedly shifting breasts. She kept shaking up and down on the hugely erect member, gaining more ease and deftness as she went. Now she squeezed with her thumb and forefinger in a tight ring around his foreskin, bringing the loose skin up almost to the turgidly swollen head. Bill's loins gyrated below her hand, rocking rhythmically to her fondling of his throbbing penis. His sperm-filled balls tickled her wrist with their slight thatch of hair, and his muscled thighs slapped against her forearm, increasing the humiliated feeling that rushed through her.
"I've got to stop...pleeeease!"
"Damn you! Keep jerking me off!"
Sally tightened her small hand over Bill's bone-hard cock, and began pulling on it with longer, smoother strokes. What a nightmare! Never in her life had she done something so incredibly sordid! She just wished he would cum and get it over with, and she wondered how long it usually took for men to have an orgasm...a few minutes...half an hour? She jerked his cock faster, feeling the thickening flesh-staff swell to obscene proportions as though his penis would explode right in her palm. Wet smacking sounds from her hand slapping down against his loins echoed dully through the car. Bitter defenseless tears spilled down her cheeks, streaming onto her nakedly heaving breasts...yes, he was going to cum in her hand!
"Uggggg!" Larson moaned in the darkness. "You sweet, sweet cunt!"
Abruptly, he reached around Sally's shoulders and drew her to him. "Kiss me...tongue kiss me." He clamped his hand hard on her naked breast till she could feel pain. She obeyed, and thrust her tongue reluctantly into his mouth. Bill sucked on it, sending a little racing chill across her taste buds, and then plunged his own tongue through her wetly parting lips, pushing it in and out as though he were mouth-fucking her with a small erect penis.
"No...please!" she moaned.
"Oh fuck...Christ...I'm about ready!" Larson grabbed her free hand and made her touch his sperm-swollen testicles.
Sally fondled the velvety skin tentatively and then with gently soft caresses that sent him into an uncontrolled frenzy. "Shit...Christ!" he moaned. He was almost there! She could tell by the way he lifted his writhing buttocks from the seat and dropped his head to her fearfully trembling breasts.. .
"Christ!" Suddenly, he gasped!
Bill's cock leaped in her hand, and began its staccato explosion of white-hot sperm over her delicately gripping fingers. The thickly spurting liquid dashed up like milky lava from an erupting volcano and splashed wetly over her squeezing fingers and down across her wrist.
The helpless young blonde continued to pull fervidly on his cock till his first lewd spasms subsided and his still-ejaculating penis began deflating in her hand. Slowly, she unclasped her fingers. They were all wet with his thick white fluid . . .
"Here's a handkerchief," he said as he reached into his shirt pocket and dropped the handkerchief in her lap.
Bill could hear her sobbing quietly as he drove Sally back to the dorm in silence. He dropped her off a block from school and sat in the car, watching her willowy figure get smaller until it disappeared in darkness. There'd been other girls like Sally working for him in the five years he'd operated the Airliner. Most of them were stuck-up college girls who worried more about their grade-point than they did about the impression they made on guys like him. That description seemed to fit Sally Walker.
Larson turned down University Road and drove two miles out of town to the swank modernistic apartment building where Kitty lived. The curvaceous redhead met him at the door dressed in skimpy pajamas; her smile told him she knew he'd been drinking. "I had a hunch you'd be dropping by," she said.
He pushed past her into the living room. "You got anything to drink? I've been on bourbon," he said.
"You've been with that Walker girl."
He dropped into a chaise lounge and gazed across the lush white carpet toward her. "What'd you expect?"
"Oh, nothing," she laughed. "I just hate seeing you waste your time."
"It wasn't a waste. I got her going and I'm thinking about getting into that blonde little pussy of hers."
"So what else is new?" Kitty poured out two shots of bourbon into the cocktail glasses she had set on a tray. She gave Bill his drink and sat down on the thick rug in front of him. Her shortie pajamas were little more than two blue and red swatches of cloth that barely concealed her ripely formed breasts and little pussy mound. Larson's vision blurred and then refocused on his waitress friend's alluring young body.
"I'm afraid I'll have to let her go. After tonight she'll be in no mood to return to the 'Liner."
"That sounds intelligent," she smiled agreeably.
"But I don't think I will," he said. "Hell, I'd like to knock her down a peg." Kitty frowned.
"I need you, baby," he looked mournfully at her.
"Well, I don't want anything to do with the girl. She's your problem...not mine."
Larson stared numbly into his drink. Kitty just had to help him out. "Please, Kitty, phone Sally at the dorm in the morning. Tell her I'm sorry, or whatever. You don't need to go out of your way."
The curvy redhead laughed. "Why should I help you take advantage of that silly student?
You've got a heartless streak in you, honey...did I ever tell you that?" she continued.
"Remember how I set you up last fall with all those alumni for the homecoming game?" She shrugged.
"You've liked earning the little extra...ever since then...haven't you?" She nodded.
"Okay," he winked. "The really big game's just weeks away. You're all set up...and I'm the one who put you there."
"True. I'm independent now. I don't even need you. I've got lots to keep me busy."
"It's a favor to an old friend," he pointed out.
"Some favor and some friend!" Then she giggled in a sexy way. "If I were in your shoes, I'd wait till the morning and see how I felt with a hangover."
"I want to hear you say you'll do it...c'mon, honey, tell me you'll call her!"
She rose quickly and stood in front of his chair, her gently rounded breasts rising and falling deeply as she made an attempt to conceal her frustration. "Whatever happened to the good times you and me used to have?"
"Christ," he mumbled.
"Remember the night we went out to Regent's Park and had a picnic...I sucked your cock, then you fucked me from behind . . . "
"Hmmmmmm," Larson cleared his throat.
"Well, that's over now."
"I didn't say we were through. I just want to mess around with other gals, too."
"No kidding," she laughed, and her full-fleshed young breasts jiggled resiliency. For some reason, she enjoyed being hurt by the handsome blond bar owner. There was a masochistic part of herself the whore in herself, she supposed that needed to be teased and humiliated.
A half-hour and two bourbons later, Larson walked tipsily to the door. Kitty ambled into the bedroom and stared out the plate-glass window as he got into his MG and spun up University Road to town. Before Bill left, he'd told her how Sally'd made him squirt his hotly jetting sperm into her hand. It made Kitty's skin crawl with jealousy just to think about it, but, in spite of her misgivings, she decided to call the new waitress at her dorm tomorrow morning. Even though it did make her squirm to think about Sally racing her clasping hand over Bill's long hard cock, she knew it had to be a temporary thing. Sooner or later, she expected Bill to come back to her.
Now, the curvy waitress was just too upset to go to sleep. She trudged across the living room and sat down on the thick pile carpeting facing the mirrored wall beside the couch.
"Oh...Christ," she moaned to herself.
The redhead looked at her breasts pressing in two conical shapes against her wispy top. On an impulse, she tore off the pajama-halter, exposing her ripely formed mounds to the air-conditioned coolness of the room. Her little nipples distended quickly into diamond-chipped buds; she reached up and fondled one breast, squeezing the skin tightly till she could feel little pulsations ripple through her spiked-out nipples down into her thighs. Who needs Bill anyway? she thought. There were other men who could give her just as good a time, and maybe when Sally and she became friends they could have fun together.
The young waitress turned to the side, admiring her own attractive profile. She could feel the pulsating lips of her pussy moistening rapidly and from out of nowhere a trickle of sweat had begun to run down the smooth valley between her full firm breasts.
She looked down to the girlish arc of her slender hourglass waist, her eyes resting on her flaring hips; she sat poised like this for a moment, her curvaceously sculpted young woman's body catching the soft pink reflection of the rose-colored sofa. Her hand wandered of its own accord down across her little white belly to her pubic mound beneath her bikini pajama bottoms. Her fingers pressed at it for a teasing moment, circling in a smooth wide oval over her hair-lined cuntal lips, and then she tugged at her small pajama panties till they were pulled down off her ankles.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned at her auburn-haired vagina. A whirl of salacious pleasure erupted in the pit of her belly as she fondled her wetness pussy lips, delicately massaging them till their excited moistness covered her hand.
Damn him, she thought. He's making me do this, and I just don't want to! She recalled how it'd been when the bartender had first made love to her...that weekend when he'd driven her up to the Wisconsin lake country had been the most wonderful in her life. Now, it was all over, but there were other suitable men who might do the job as well as Bill Larson.
"God...for Pete's sakes!" she cursed feebly at her sensually alluring young body, which was all aglow with erotic excitement.
Kitty squeezed one round full breast in one hand, while the other continued its fond stroking up between her slenderly outspread legs. All she needed right now, she mused, was a thickly pulsating cock to fuck into her! The redhead's erect little clitoris tingled wildly as her fingers danced over her curl-fringed vagina; she could see her free breast jiggling freely as she massaged its voluptuous twin. With each new stroke at her delightedly aroused pussy, her entire body quivered with lewd abandon, demanding Bill's shaft of male flesh which would bring her to total and immediate climax.
Instinctively, she dropped her hand and with an extended middle finger found her eagerly begging little pussy hole! "Oooooh!" she moaned, thrusting her finger up into the clasping heat of her cunt. She plunged her hand back and forth, using her up-thrust middle finger like a skewering cock fucking wildly up into her tight vaginal opening. Her excited secretions dribbled across her hand and then dampened her sensitive thighs; she could feel her clinging vaginal passage dilating with each vibrating plunge of her tautly extended middle finger, as though it were trying to suck in her hand and swallow it whole!
Suddenly, she stopped. It was no good...what kind of an idiot was she, anyway? There were lots of better ways to satisfy herself than through finger-fucking her frustrated aroused pussy. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from between her wide-splayed legs. The urge to touch her needing young cunt was still there, but she suppressed it--it just wasn't the same as having Bill's long thick penis plunging up between her legs.
The pretty waitress sank back into the thick white rug, letting her thoughts drift to other things. Dave, a musician boyfriend of hers who had called earlier this evening, and Kenny Clark, the bass player in Dave's band, wanted to get together with her Sunday night. She stirred for a few minutes, trying to arrest her mind from its restless wandering. Kenny wanted to meet a girl, maybe Sally'd be interested.