Stolen Innocence
(M+/F, whore, size, anal, cons)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.com

When a child of eleven, Erin Bann was perfectly content to live on the farm in Iowa where she had been born and raised. Her father, a burly, blond, third generation American of Scandinavian descent, grew mostly corn and pigs, but Johnny, her 15-year old brother, who wanted to stay on the land, was interested in raising cattle. He already had a young milk cow which he had raised from a calf and was thinking of breeding her with a neighbor's bull.

One morning early that autumn, as the pumpkins were glowing yellow and plump on the vines, and her mother's kitchen was permeated with the heady smell of spices and pickling, and the fresh tart odor of baked apple pies was floating through the window to where she was sitting on the back porch with Pal, their thick coated German Shepherd dog, she heard her father and Johnny talking in the kitchen about his cow.

"Jersey seems to be in heat now, Johnny," her father said. "If you still want to breed her, now's the time to do it. I've talked with Chris about it and he says to bring her over anytime. He's got a fine bull and it should be a dandy calf."

"Gee, Dad, that's swell. When can we do it?"

"Tomorrow's okay with Chris. But remember, the entire responsibility of bringing this calf up is yours. No saying you're tired of taking care of it and Jersey after it's here."

"Gosh, Dad, you know I won't do that. I'm all set to grow her up and win me a couple of prizes at the fair."

"Okay, boy, we'll go over tomorrow after lunch, then."

Erin slipped off the porch so her parents wouldn't know she had heard and walked down to the barn to look at Jersey. She had noticed that previously she had not only been kept away from the pens and barns at breeding times, but that any discussion concerning them between her parents, or between her father and other farmers, had always ceased when she approached. Thus, the only things she associated with the word "breeding" were the sound of the bull's bellowing cries echoing over the green hills and a feeling that it must be something "not nice."

But lately she had been disturbed by vague warm sensations in her own body, centered deep in her belly, which had made her restless and irritable, and she had begun to speculate about her own sex organs as well as those of animals. She resolved she would sneak over to Chris's farm tomorrow and see what happened that was so forbidden.

The next day was a golden autumn day with the smell of an early winter in the air. From a deep blue sky the sun turned the leaves to a shimmering fire of reds and golds. Along the road the sumac was glowing purples and deep reds, and by the farmhouse the late blooming flowers were showing their last blossoms.

After lunch, Johnny and his father went down to the barn to load Jersey into a truck to be taken over to the next farm.

"Erin," her mother said, "you're as restless as a cat. You don't have to help me with the dishes. Go out and play but stay close to the house. And put a sweater on."

She ran up to her bedroom to get her sweater, clattered back down the stairs and out the door, her pigtails flying. She went down to the barn where the men were about to leave.

"Put Pal back in the house, Erin," her father said. "We don't want him following along and disturbing the cattle."

She didn't ask to go along with them as she knew her father would refuse. Instead, she obediently took Pal back to the house and then headed for the wood, on the other side of which lay Chris's farm. Once out of sight of the house, she broke into a run. She was afraid of missing whatever was going to happen. When she came to the other edge of the wood, she hid behind a bush and peeked through the leaves. No one was in sight. Directly in front of her was the back of their neighbor's barn. Beyond it she could hear the sound of men's voices and from time to time the bellowing of the bull. She quickly climbed through a wire fence, ran across to the barn and slipped through a rear door. Inside, the barn was dimly lit with shafts of sunlight lancing through crevices in the roof and filtering through a haze of hay dust lazily turning in the still air. It was warm and close with the smell of cattle, now out to pasture, and the acrid scent of manure. A few chickens stirred restlessly and ruffled their feathers as they perched on the railings of the stalls. She looked around and not seeing anyone, moved silently to the other side, beyond which lay a small corral. She could hear the voices more clearly, as well as unidentifiable rustlings and scrapings and the restless, heavy tread of the bull.

"He's sure as hell rarin' to go," someone said. "He's hotter'n a firecracker."

A loud urgent bellow cut off the voice.

"Okay, Johnny," said a voice which she recognized as belonging to Chris, "you can bring your cow in soon. Just wait a minute until he's moved to the other side of the corral away from the gate."

Entering an empty stall, Erin lay down on a pile of hay. It pricked and ticked her body through the clothes she was wearing and the hay dust made her afraid she would sneeze. She pressed her eyes against a small crack between the wooden slabs and looked into the corral beyond.

Three or four men were standing on the other side of the corral fence, their tight blue jeans showing every muscle and curve of their legs. To the right was her father. Johnny was looking anxiously at the bull and while saying something to his father, burst into a tense, embarrassed giggle which he tried to hide with a cough. Chris was standing near the gate, one hand on the latch. Everyone was looking inside the corral.

And there was the bull. Big, black and powerful. A dark boxcar of latent, dynamic energy. His muscles rippled under the shiny dark hair over his firm, bulky shoulders and haunches. He was standing near the fence, a square block of massive movement. Lowering his head, he sniffed through the fence, his lips curled back, his nostrils flared, his shoulders hunched. He could smell the cow in heat, although she was not yet in sight. The scent made him all male, urgent and demanding. He was in constant, restless movement, at times almost dancing with a heavy tread as he sidled along the fence, scraping it with his side. Saliva dripped from his lips. He swayed slowly from side to side, his tail raised at an angle. Beneath him his large, potent testicles were stretched tautly from the urge in his body. He snorted loudly again and then backed away, pawing the ground with one hoof as he raised his head. With his square, black face raised towards the luminescent sky he roared a mighty bellow which was insistent, commanding, almost an ultimatum.

When he had moved over to the other side of the corral, Chris quickly opened the gate and let the cow in. She stood quietly, switching her tail and looking at the bull. He turned towards her immediately, lowered his head and pawed the ground. Moving to her haunches he sniffed loudly and wetly at her rear. She lifted her tail and he began licking the opening beneath it. His rough tongue caressed her moistly as saliva drooled from his mouth and fell to the ground below.

Erin held her breath as she watched the animalistic ritual going on in the corral. Tiny dewdrops of moisture formed between her own legs without her fully understanding why and she closed them tightly together to try and snuff out the tiny ripples of sensation that were for the fast time in her life beginning to stir there.

The bull's heavy, thick pointed penis suddenly emerged from the thick sheath enclosing it. It was wet and glistened in the afternoon sun as its full prominence burst into view. He stopped to bellow triumphantly and the sound echoed over the surrounding hills proclaiming his stirred passion. His penis slipped out another eight inches and he tried to mount the wobbling cow, rearing up with a clumsy lunge, but she moved to the side and his forefeet crashed to the ground. Staggering slightly from the first failing effort, he tried again. He succeeded in straddling her with his front legs, his black, immense chest crushing down on her haunches. Her legs buckled slightly from his weight but he succeeded in entering her this time and Erin's watching eyes bulged wide as she watched the huge, pole-like instrument slither without resistance deep down into the belly of the straining cow. The bull gave an angry snort and began a sudden series of short, quick jerks with his hind legs and suddenly emitted a soulful moan from deep in his chest. The glistening red penis sunk deep inside the cow beneath him throbbed for an interminable moment and then he backed quickly away and gave an ear-splitting bellow that somehow seemed now less urgent to the gaping Erin as she crouched excitedly behind the crack in the barn wall. The cow staggered drunkenly around the corral, her head down in sudden fatigue, her back arched spasmodically.

"Okay, boys, that should do it," Chris laughed.

"Man, that was like a freight train going into a tunnel."

They all burst into laughter over the comparison.

Johnny entered the corral and led the cow out and over to the waiting truck.

Inside the barn on her pile of hay, Erin lay back tense and trembling. Her mouth was dry and the hay scratched her arms and legs more intensely now. She was too surprised and shocked at what she had seen to be able to move. She had never in all her young life imagined that such a thing was possible. Her stomach churned slightly and she felt strangely dizzy. Did humans do this too? Was this the reason for the same, but softer and more secret sounds she had often heard coming from her parents' bedroom late at night when they had thought she was asleep? It must have been, they were so much the same. Her whole body began to quiver uncontrollably at the lewd and obscene thought of her mother and father coupled together as the animals she had just seen through the secret crack of the barn.

Then, she was suddenly jerked back to reality as she heard Chris ask one of the men to go into the barn and bring back a halter for the bull. In desperation she crawled back over the hay and jumping to her feet, ran out the rear door. She silently scuttled through the fence and fell on the ground behind a bush and lay there for some time, panting and gasping, too afraid to move. Later, she made her way back to the farm just as her father and brother were returning to the house after unloading the cow in the corral. She could not look either of them in the face and silently began to help her mother prepare the evening meal. Her thoughts were strangely muddled and disturbing to her young and innocent mind.

A few days later Erin went on one of her beloved rambles over the countryside. She never grew tired of these explorations, searching through the woods for tiny, wild flowers, running and skipping over the lush, dark-green meadows, with Pal barking madly at her side, or weaving her way through the rustling lanes of corn. Her favorite spot was a small glen in a wood on the other side of the wheat field. Here she used to go to drowse away an afternoon or to construct a small lean-to of branches and "playhouse," or to sit quietly and hope a rabbit or squirrel would approach. Pal would sniff around the surrounding woods, barking loudly in surprise and excitement when he would startle a wild bird. Usually, however, he would lie on the soft gently waving grass, panting in the heat. It was an Indian summer day, almost as hot as it had been in July.

"Come on, Pal, let's go to the woods," Erin said playfully, as she slammed the screen door and Pal jumped up from the porch. "But no roaming today. It's too hot. We have to walk slowly like Grandma and Grandpa Holiday."

They followed a winding path around the barns and set off across a meadow, Erin's yellow braids swinging from side to side as she looked for hidden field mice in the grass, or knelt to pick up am autumn flower. The intense sun pressed sullen on her head. The sky was a vacant, wide tent of pale blue. The air was filled with the sweet, fecund smell of meadow grass and the small white and yellow flowers which dotted the field.

When they reached the glen, Erin plopped on the ground and wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the hem of her skirt. Pal lay on the grass beside her panting heavily.

"Poor old Pal's so hot in his winter overcoat," she said soothingly, as she petted him. "It's just too hot today for clothes."

Erin pulled up her short skirt over the whiteness of her already developing thighs and sighing as the cool breeze washed over the flimsy silk of her brief panties, lay back on the cool grass and stroked his thick fur. She opened her legs wide to let the air cool between her perspiring thighs and looked contentedly up at the drifting puffs of summer clouds that moved lazily overhead. Pal rolled on his side next to her and turning her head at the feel of his movement against her hand she noticed that his penis was protruding slightly from its fur covered sheath. She remembered the black bull from the other day and tentatively touched its pink, moist end. As she curiously fingered it, the small glistening penis slowly emerged into the air until it was fully in sight. Pal growled deep in his throat and then jumped up, quivering. Feeling uncertain and a little afraid, she squirmed slightly away on her back and looked wide-eyed up at him not knowing what to do. It was a strange feeling, one that she had never known before with Pal. He had always leaped at her first command but now she was not so certain he would react the way he always had done before. There was an animalistic gleam in his eye that both frightened and confused her. It was as though she had lost complete control over him and would never regain it again. He suddenly had command of her and her childish mind froze, unable to move as he hovered over her spread-eagle form panting and jerking like the lust-enraged bull she had seen such a short time ago just before it attacked Jersey in Chris's corral.

He had moved between her widespread legs and was standing with tongue hanging out just above her.

She dared not move in her sudden fear.

His head dropped and she clenched her eyes tightly shut as she felt the coldness of his nose brush experimentally against the warm inside of her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath as he panted like the bull and the sudden wetness of his tongue as it snaked out of his mouth and began softly licking at the exposed flesh of her inner legs. She started to push him away, but the cool damp tongue suddenly felt fresh and alive on her hot skin. Instead, she lay back and let her arms fan loosely out on the grass as his tongue continued its strange and probing search up toward the whiteness of her panties. She tried to move again but was met by a whining growl that stilled her completely. There was nothing she could do now and felt her body begin a slow uncontrollable writhing against the grass beneath her as suddenly his long searching tongue reacted the top of her thighs and began a gently almost tender licking against the silk band of her panties that covered the warm, sweating slit of her young, untouched pussy. A slight groan escaped from her mouth which was dry now from the strange and unknown sensations flickering through her young and inexperienced body. Her tongue ran in small desperate and uncontrolled circles around the edges of her lips, the salty taste of the tiny drops of sweat forming there increasing the urgency of the feelings suddenly circling around deep inside her white, virginal belly. The sun burned white into the skin of her face and exposed legs and she could feel the roughness his tongue probing gently against the thin, protective veneer of her panties, pushing it wetly into the now open and palpitating lips of her small and untouched cunt. She giggled slightly and it tickled her but soon she felt a curious sensation flowing up into her loins and stomach, a feeling that was unfamiliar but strangely pleasurable and had its strength deep inside her belly. At first it frightened her, but then she gave herself slowly and uncertainly to its new and delicious delight and felt a sudden ravenous curiosity as to where it would lead and what it was all about.

Her hands moved without thought down over the beginning blooms of her tiny but sensitive breasts and making a wide, open-palmed sweep down over the whiteness of her nylon clad belly began a soft circular stroking around the insides of her thighs as the hot, licking tongue of the dog continued its desperate probing of the nylon band still covering the tiny, hair lined slit of her pussy. Her body began a slow wiggling and squirming down into the cool mat of grass beneath her and she slowly raised her knees until they were pointing directly up at the fleecy cloud floating lazily above, and then with the first moan of passion uttered in her young life, they limply fell outwards, exposing the whole of her nylon covered loins to the now more desperate flicking tongue of the dog. Her asscheeks and pelvis began a slow, yet hard rotation up at the teasing wet nose of the animal haunching down between her widespread legs and she could feel the long, moist, snake-like tongue trying without success to curl beneath the tight elastic legband of her flimsy panties and make contact with the soft smooth flesh beneath. Her fingers automatically moved inward and with the forefinger of her right hand she deftly and quickly pulled the soft nylon crotch band aside and groaned with a feeling she had never in her life thought possible as she felt the great wet mass of Pal's flicking tongue sink hungrily between the wet and throbbing lips of her young and now unprotected cunt. A low animal moan escaped from between her tightly clenched teeth and she grasped his furry ear with her other hand and pulled his nose tighter between her legs, grunting and twisting beneath him on the grass as though she had suddenly lost her mind. At the same time, mewling whines of insatiate hunger rolled from the panting mouth of the wildly licking dog and he thrust the tip of his tongue deep between her widespread legs until the thin ring of her youthful virginity would allow it to sink no deeper inside her. Saliva drooled from his mouth in wild sucking torrents, wetting the whole of her madly rotating pelvis and loins as she wiggled and squirmed in wild and uncontrolled abandon beneath the lapping dog. Feeling the hot delight rising like fire in the depths of her quivering belly, she ground her crotch desperately around and around, savoring with untamed delight the newfound sensations rippling in never ending waves through her young, virginal body.

"Lick me, Pal! Lick me," she chanted ceaselessly through her passion-contorted lips as her asscheeks twisted and smacked with wild uncontrolled abandon down into the soft mat of grass beneath her. She did not know what the outcome would be, but she instinctively felt through her lust-dimmed mind that there was an end, some end, and that this was the way to it. Her hand dropped from his ear and she pressed it to the other side of the split of her cunt, pulling the tight, tiny lips as far apart as she could get them until she almost felt herself screaming from the pain that she felt as though she were splitting her own self apart there between her legs. His tongue lapped deeper, a hard painful pressure against her virginity so that she squirmed up with a hopeless desperation, knowing that on the other side of that thin unyielding membrane inside her lay a happiness and sensation that was beyond imagination and she bucked and twisted with all her strength, praying his tongue would break through and satiate this wild need goading her back on and on into wilder and wilder gyrations.

And then - as quickly as the feeling had begun, it burst!

She cried out into the hot summer air and then suddenly all her muscles relaxed, her legs jerking in one last spasmodic quiver out to the sides of the still licking dog's body. She continued to rotate her pelvis up against the wetness of his tongue, but more softly and slowly now, as the burning fire quickly ebbed.

She breathed out deeply and reaching up with both hands, firmly pushed his panting head away from her still widespread loins. He backed begrudgingly away, a protesting whine singing from his throat and she lay drained of all strength panting and perspiring on her back.

She still did not understand exactly what had happened. But it had happened and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever known. It would come again now, and often, she had tasted it and there would he no escape when it occurred again - no matter what the circumstances.

As the months and years passed, she found many new ways of fulfilling the ache which periodically filled her groin and crept down her legs and through her body. Instead of Pal, she used books, the arm of an overstuffed chair, the edge of her bed, or a pillow stuffed between her legs as she lay face down on her bed in the quiet of the night. The small, rosy bud mounted high between the lips of her sex became more and more the center of her attentions. With one or two of her fingers she would rub its fleshy swelling, gently and rhythmically, or smoke the soft length of the path leading up to it, terminating her stroke against it until the familiar rising flood of pleasure would swell up sharply and spill over. Or she would use her whole hand to apply moving and steady pressure over these warm responsive areas. And sometimes she tugged at her sex with her hand, finding that the pull on her muscles stimulated the pink bud to which they were connected.

By the time she was fifteen Erin was strongly desirous of a full sexual experience. But the farming community in which she lived was so small and closely knit she was afraid of the possible consequences of being discovered, punished severely by her parents and talked about by all the gossips, her reputation ruined and her parents ashamed. Then, too, she still felt lagging remnants of guilt about her own masturbation and was uneasily reluctant to take the next step. True, she had been kissed, and deeply, by many of her boy friends, had allowed a few of them to handle her young, swelling breasts, and permitted one to finger her sex with his rough, chapped hand, making her sex juices flow and her desire mount almost unbearably, but she had gone no further.

That June, when the winter-bare, plowed fields were covered with emerald green stalks of corn, rapidly inching their way upward to be knee-high by the Fourth of July, a square dance was held to celebrate the end of the school year. Johnny, as well as Paul Dawson and another friend named Mike, were home from the state agricultural school. Mike had become engaged to Gwen Sorenson, who had blossomed into a dark-haired, ripe beauty with a sexy pair of blue eyes and a dimple in her right cheek.

The dance was to be held at a meeting house a few miles down the road. All the girls had new skirts, fully-stacked and brightly colored. The fiddlers in the area tuned up their fiddles and practiced the songs, the callers reviewed their patter and tried not to overstrain their voices during the preceding days, and all the wives and mothers cooked their treasured specialties, pecan pies, double-fudge cakes, fruit bread jeweled with red and green candied fruit, succulent hams studded with cloves, all to be eaten at midnight by the leg-weary crowd. For everyone was going, everyone who could still shake a leg or scrape a fiddle, or even just sit along the sidelines and gossip and urge on the dancers.

There was a full moon that fourteenth night of June, an orb glowing like an opal which lit the countryside almost like day and covered the rolling hills with a sinuous cloth of silver lame. Erin was dancing with Paul Dawson, now a tall, attractive lad of twenty with a lean face and a ready smile.

"My legs are about ready to give way," Paul said, as they finished a fast square dance and walked, breathing heavily, off the floor. "Let's get some fresh air."

They went outside and sat on the cool grass. With her arms behind her, propping her body, Erin tilted her flushed face toward the sky, in the moonlight her heavy, blond hair a rippling mass of silver sequins, and her eyes, dark and deep-set under the winged brows, as quiet and mysterious as a Sphinx. Her blouse, cut low in a circle revealed the clean curve of her shoulders and the soft, rising mounds of her white breasts, the hollow between them a deepening shadow as it disappeared under her blouse. The firm, twin arches of her breasts rapidly rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath, perspiration gluing the cloth to her moist, hot body, sharply outlining under the thin material the molded, outward swelling curves, each tipped with a hard bud, jutting outward under the wet gauze, dark and swollen, and the round, cupped fullness below. From her small, nipped-in waist her full skirt billowed out, its hem lying above her knees, framing in firm, plump flesh of her thighs, white and glistening in the moonlight.

"You're growin' up pretty as a heifer, Erin," Paul said. "Pardon my buttin' my nose in where it has no business, but is there anyone you're particularly sweet on around here?"

She glanced sideways at him, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. She liked Paul. "No," she said slowly. "Not particularly." She waited quietly.

He started to move his arm as though to put it around her, but then picked up a stone instead and threw it with a brisk swing, the stone clinking on a rock when it fell. He seemed embarrassed and unsure of himself, his inexperience revealed in his husky voice and nervous manner.

"Well, look, Erin," he said, "I was wonderin' what you were thinkin' of doin' after high school. Going to get married? Or are your parents goin' to send you to college?"

"I don't really know, Paul. They've said I could go if I wanted to, but I don't want to much. Maybe I'll go to Chicago and get a job. My aunt lives there, you know."

Although she hadn't told anyone, she had already made up her mind. College was not for her. She was too anxious for a quick plunge into the complex morass of life where she could surrender herself to the myriad delights she knew it would offer. It was not for her to go to college, where the fetters of a college routine would bind and choke her like the restrictions she felt at home, where the boys would be replicas of Paul and others in her own community, young, hesitant, undeveloped, and where she would not be able to freely indulge in the kind of experimentation she knew her body was ready for and eagerly demanded. No, when the time came, she would go to Chicago, live with her aunt until she found a job, and then strike out on her own.

As she shifted her position so her arm would brush against his and gave her head a shake so her fragrant hair swung against his face, tickling it with the golden wisps of her curls, she felt herself suddenly pushed back against the ground, her back pressed into the grass, her breasts and her belly flattened by the crush of his body on top of hers. Roughly he grasped her hair with one hand, entwining his fingers in its thick locks until her scalp tingled with the pain, while his other hand kneaded her soft breast, rapidly making it become firm and taut with desire. His mouth hungrily sought her own, his lips smashed go forcefully against hers that they parted and her teeth chewed his upper lip, making the blood flow and fill her mouth with its warm, salty taste. Her nostrils flared as the acrid scent of his male sweat reached them and she arched her back like a bow while his hand passed heavily down over the smooth swell of her stomach, seeking her hot loins.

Just then a figure appeared in the brightly lit rectangle of the door, the whirling music of the fiddles and the hoarse patter of the caller blaring out behind it like a radio fully turned up.

"PA-U-L! PA-U-L! Are you out there, Paul?" It was his mother.

He quickly rolled off her, breathing heavily, swearing softly. Erin lay with her eyes closed.

"Yoo-oo-oo-hoo-oo-oo! PA-U-L!" came the insistent, inquiring call again.

"Yeah, I'm over here," he finally yelled back, as he adjusted his clothes. "What do you want?" His voice was impatient and angry.

She walked toward them, saying, "It won't take a minute, dear. I only want you to drive me home. So many more people came than expected, we'll need another coffee urn. It'll only take a second." Her voice sounded apologetic when her eyes, now accustomed to the dark, saw Erin with him.

"Goddamn," he exclaimed under his breath. Turning to Erin as he got up, he added, "I'll be right back. How about eatin' with me when the dinner's ready?"

She nodded and watched him trail after his mother toward the line of parked cars. She lay back on the ground, her arms clasped under her head and looked at the glowing sky. The milky moon floated like a white gull on the calm, deep sea of the night, cloudless and without horizon. The warm, summer scented air and her aroused unfilled desires flooded her body with longing. The knot of lust twisted deeply in her belly and flowed down her limbs, making her legs ache and her muscles tense. She could not sit still. Rising from the ground, she slowly wandered away from the meeting-house, over a moon-drenched hill toward a small wood which lay like a silver castle on the far side of a meadow. Under the trees, standing like silent sentinels, the moonlight filtered down through dark, leaf-laden branches and fell on the grassy sod in liquid white pools. She walked between the dark pillars of trees. It was as if she were walking through an eerie, deserted church in a dream, or in another world, all alone, where objects could not be recognized and had no name, but only existed, quietly, peacefully.

But she was not alone, for suddenly she heard a male voice speaking gruffly a short distance away and an answering, gentle female laugh. Wondering who it could be and what they were doing, she took off her shoes and, picking her way carefully, so as not to stumble over a branch or snap a twig and thus betray her presence, moved cautiously toward where they were hidden. As the voice became more distinct she recognized them as belonging to Mike and Gwen. She fell to her hands and knees and inched along, her aim a small group of bushes behind which they seemed to he. What could they be doing? Whatever it was, she hoped they were too intent to hear the small rustlings she unavoidably made now and then. That they might be making love was more than possible. The mere thought of it made the tight knot in her groin rotate sharply. Having reached the bushes, she searched for an opening; finding one she looked through into a snug, grass-carpeted glade, ringed with bushes, which the moonlight, fading between the tall, watching trees, bathed in an opalescent light and softly spotlighted the entwined figures against the darker ground.

"Mike, darling, I do love you," Gwen murmured, "but do you think we should? Mightn't someone come?" She was lying on her back, Mike beside her, one leg angled over her knees, an arm propped on the ground and the other stroking her hair.

"Oh, honey, please. No one'll come way out here." He moved his hand to her blouse and began unbuttoning it slowly, his lips following his fumbling fingers as he gently kissed the gradually exposed flesh. Quietly she lay, the fingers of one hand hidden in his dark, curly hair, her body then moving with easy twists as he took off her blouse and reached behind to unhook her bra. As she sank back onto the ground her long dark hair fanned out on the grass, moonlight glittering in the rippling mass like a phosphorescent fish swimming in a dark sea. The soft silver light accentuated the contours of her young torso, high-lighting the lustrous curves and shadowing the hollows, molding her smooth body into a liquid, flowing melody of beautiful movement, without beginning or end. Her eyes were dark pools of desire and love; her full lips, mauve in the moonlight, were parted to reveal small, glistening teeth and the pink end of a wet tongue, eager to be met by his. The column of her neck flowed outward into the sloping, alabaster curves of her shoulders and down to the raising sweep of her apple-sized breasts, which were firm and raised like two white-hot, glowing coals, tipped with lavender buds, swollen and hard, and as softly caressed by the shimmering moonbeams as by Mike's hand and lips. Moving his fingers to her skirt, he raised it up over her ripe belly, kissing the lily-white shafts of her thighs and then eased it down over her hips and slowly pulled off her panties with exaggerated care. Quickly he got up from the ground, undressed, and stood gazing down at her, his body like a statue of chalk in the moonlight. He was fully a man, for his male organ stood out like a long, thick prick of ivory, ready and eager to bury itself in the wet, dark tunnel between her legs. Against the darker grass, the long milky, columns of her legs widened upward in pure, clean lines, swelled outward in the rounded parentheses of her hips, which were as white as snowdrifts, as mysterious as the moon above. Her belly curved in a gentle swell, soft, inviting, centered by the dark shadow of her navel, while below rose the strong jut of her mound, richly covered with sparse, dark swirls of budding pubic hair.

He dropped to the grass, leaned half over her and raised his hands to the shadowed hollows of her neck, moving them slowly and heavily outward around her sloping shoulders, downward over the soft pillows of her breasts, around the small circle of her waist and over the smooth, silky rise of her belly, following the creamy sweep of her hips down to the pliant, satin flesh of her full white thighs which he tenderly licked, slowly, heavily. She reached down and drew him up on top of her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss as they clasped each other strongly, their legs tangled together, her hands passing languidly over his back and kneading the white globes of his haunches. Soft moans and sighs mingled sensuously with the sound of their bodies, brushing and sliding against each other as their hands and lips explored warm curves and hidden crevices, their entwined, moving bodies looking like shifting, silver snakes. He buried his head against her breasts, kissing and fondling them.

Erin held her breath and reaching forward carefully with her hands, parted the bushes slightly and crawled forward a few more feet. She was as silent as possible in the darkness and the slight noises she made were no more than the wind rustling through the otherwise quiet forest. She was not more than two feet away from the sensuously writhing couple now and had a sudden almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch them. Her position was such that she could see without hindrance the soft, sparse pubic hair nestling mysteriously between her girlfriend's widespread thighs and the wet, pink slit of her open cunt as it throbbed in anticipation of the ravishment it was about to receive. Gwen's hand had reached down between their hard pressed bodies and her fingers were curled tightly around the full marble-whiteness of Mike's cock as it hung poised for entry into the tiny, waiting entrance between her legs.

Erin's mouth was dry and she could feel tiny beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead just beneath the soft, blonde hairline as she heard the moans and sighs rippling from deep in Gwen's chest. She would have given anything at that moment to change places with her, to be lying there beneath Mike's hot, lust-filled body waiting for him to fuck into her like the bull she had seen so long ago in Chris's corral.

"Put it in, darling, now, oh my darling," he whispered into the writhing girl's mouth beneath him. "I want to fuck you."

"Oh, fuck me, please do, please fuck me, darling!" the half crazed girl twisting under him pleaded wetly into his mouth. He moaned and pressed forward with a flick of his hips, the full, blood-filled head of his cock guided by the eager hands of the girl parted the moist red lips of her young, ready cunt and slipped wetly inside. She moaned loudly and crushed her head against his shoulders, chewing at it passionately with her lips. His hands slithered down the full rounded curves of her body and cupped the full rounded cheeks of her ass, bringing it suddenly tight up against his pelvis as he rammed forward with one great flesh splitting lunge and buried his cock deep, deep down in her belly.

Erin gasped as the forest was suddenly split by a half scream that was choked off almost as suddenly as it began by his hand that clamped down over her tortured girlfriend's mouth. There was a moment's silence and then the soft sounds of painful grunts coming from Gwen's hand covered lips as Mike began a slow but hard rotation of his hips between her widespread thighs. He rode her slowly at first, taking his hand from her lips and again cupping the full rounded melons of her asscheeks to pull her tighter up against him.

Erin's mouth was gaping wide now as she watched with unbelieving eyes the giant white cock skewering like a well greased piston deep between the wide-held legs of her girlfriend. She felt the juices of her own pussy begin to moisten the tightly clenched insides of her thighs as Gwen suddenly jack-knifed her churning body and clamped her legs high up around the hollowing and plumping asscheeks of her lover. Her pelvis rotated wildly against the softness of the leaves beneath her and small grunts of passionate delight burst in puffs from between her tightly clenched teeth. Erin's hand had lowered itself without consciousness down between her own legs and had inserted itself up under the elastic leg band of her panties where she fingered herself madly, almost forgetting the silence she had to maintain. She could not take her eyes from the now wet and glistening instrument that drove without mercy into the clasping hairy chevron between the legs of the moaning girl in front of her. She had slipped to her knees now so that her own asscheeks were waving high in the air behind her and the tiny bud of her clit throbbed and jerked beneath the hot, slippery tip of her finger as she followed the wild rhythm of the couple fucking right in front of her eyes.

Then, when she thought they could go no more, she saw Mike speed up his thrusting hips until they were almost a blur in the whiteness of the moonlight and smacking them loudly and wetly down into the twisting and churning loins of Gwen beneath him, gave a deep, muffled moan and rammed as far up into her as he could go. At the same time, Gwen squealed and locked her ankles tight around his back and jerked as though she were dying beneath him. Erin gasped also and felt her own wetness cascading down into the palm of her wildly stroking hand as she watched the small white trails of the sperm Mike had ejaculated deep into Gwen's body overflow out the lips of her quivering pussy and down between the cheeks of her asscheeks to the leaves below.

There was a last deep groan from both of them as Erin held her breath in silence and then Mike sank down heavily upon her girlfriend's satiated body. She lay still, not daring to move. Later he rolled to one side and lay on his back, his chest rising and falling, while she put her head on his shoulder and her hand down on his now soft and useless penis.

"God, I'd like to touch a boy like that," Erin found herself muttering silently, surprised at the sudden boldness of her thought.

After awhile, they rose hesitantly from the pile of leaves they had been lying in and after adjusting their clothing walked happily back toward the party. Erin followed in a few minutes, almost afraid to look at anyone for fear they would know what she had been doing. She knew now that she had to get away from this place, and quick, or she would be raping the first young male that came within arms length of her. There was only one place she could go, and that was Chicago.

It was Erin's first night in the city, her first night away from home. She locked the door of her bedroom in her aunt's apartment, high on the eighteenth floor of a tall, mid-town building, and walked over to the built-in wardrobe, the doors of which opened out and made a three-way mirror. She wanted to look at herself. For she had just had sexual intercourse for the first time in her 17-year old life.

It was almost midnight. Outside, a light summer rain was pattering on the window. Through a half-open door leading to a balcony came the wet smell of rain and the muted noises of late-city traffic far below. But here in her room it was quiet. After hours of talking to her aunt, she was glad she was finally alone. All evening her body had been smarting beneath her clothes for her back and hips were covered with cuts and scratches.

Quickly taking off her clothes, she let them lay where they happened to fall and opened the mirror, switching on the neon light which was set above it. She stood before it, seeing herself reflected three times. She knew she was beautiful. And she was glad, because she wanted to feel again, many times again, what she had felt this afternoon. Being beautiful would help her attract men - the kind of men she now wanted.

In the three mirrors her heavy golden hair rippled down over her shoulders like a waving field of ripening wheat and her eyes, the color of a clear, cobalt-blue sky above, large, slanting, fringed with thick, black eyelashes, stared back at her beneath the mocking arched wings of her eyebrows. Her nose was straight with the faintest suggestion of an upward tilt, her mouth, full and ripe, although a trifle too large. But her teeth were perfect, and her smile both innocent and seductive.

The straight lines of her neck flowed smoothly outward to the squared angles of her shoulders and downward to the rising curves of her breasts, twin mounds of firm flesh tipped with dark-red buds, their halos large and rosy. Rising on her toes, she stretched her arms above her head, making her breasts arch high and taut, her nipples becoming swollen and rigid as she remembered Dave's hands passing tightly over them this afternoon and the sucking, eager mouth. With a soft and languorous caress, her hand followed the flowing, mysterious curves of her body, brushed gently over the golden breasts, rubbed slightly the red, aching tits, cupped snugly the small circle of her waist and swept outward around her rounded hips. The slight acrid scent of dried sweat mingled with the musty smell of the leaves she had rolled on that afternoon and which still lingered on her skin.

From the slight indentation of the navel set in her gently rounded stomach, a faint line of down led to the strong jut of her mound, her center of sex thinly covered with silky, blond hair, golden swirls hiding her entrance of sex. Beneath were lush, full thighs and tapering long legs, their muscles tensing and relaxing as she moved up and down on her toes. Her skin was not pure white, but slightly golden, the color of toast or the fur of a tawny tigress. Slightly rotating her body to see her back, she drew in her breath as she saw the usually smooth planes of her shoulder blades, the concave hollow of the small of her back and the orbs of her haunches, as full and plump as ripe peaches, covered with pale-pink scratches.

But she really didn't care. For the hot, rising tide of pleasure, culminating in the sharp peak of the first orgasm with a man, had been well worth the lacerations on her body. And she knew that, for her, this would always be true. Being able to make love would be worth almost anything.

She turned out the light, walked over to the bed and slid between the sheets. Their coolness was fresh and soothing on her burning body and she fell asleep almost immediately.

She had driven to Chicago with a visiting cousin of one of their neighbors, a young fellow named Dave, whose gentle bespectacled face, when she had first seen him the evening before, made her think he was too shy and reserved to be possibly interesting. Since she had obtained her parent's permission to forgo college and, instead, look for a job in Chicago - permission more easily given after her aunt had written from Chicago inviting her to stay in her apartment as long as she wanted - she had been eagerly envisioning what adventures she might fall into, adventures for which her long pent-up desires were more than ready. But when she noticed his large strong hands and the ease with which he moved his powerful, compact body, a tingle of anticipation passed through her. Now that she was leaving home and would be finally independent, she no longer felt hesitant about indulging in a full sexual experience. It was as though a second umbilical cord had been cut, a strong cord of obligation and responsibility tying her to her parents and prohibiting her from doing anything which they might disapprove. For the first time she could look at a man and want him, without also feeling guilty about it.

They had stopped for lunch at a roadside diner and when they climbed back in the car, Erin moved over near him, her legs folded back under her, the hem of her cotton skirt above her knees.

"What kind of job were you thinking of getting?" Dave said.

"I'm not sure. I haven't had any experience. Do you think one will be hard to find?"

"Shouldn't be with your looks, baby," he said.

"I was thinking I might take a secretarial course first, but I'd really like to get a job right away instead, and be on my own."

"What's the rush? Anxious to make your first million?"

"No," she said, glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes, "but I'm sick of living with parents and relatives. I want to live by myself so I can do what I want."

"And what do you want to do?"

She didn't reply, but continued looking straight ahead out the window, a faint smile on her face. She felt him looking at her and then the light pressure of his warm hand on her knee.

"It's hot out. I feel all sticky," she said. He withdrew his hand as she unfolded her legs and stretched them out before her, her knees spread apart. She moved them back and forth and, holding the hem of her skirt, shook it slightly. "Perfect day to go swimming. I'd like to dive in right up to my neck."

"Yeah, I'd like to dive in, too, but not in water, and not up to my neck." He took one hand off the wheel and ran it down over her hair. "Baby, as I said before, you're a real killer."

He pulled her head toward him until it lay on his shoulder. She tilted it up and he kissed the end of her nose while his hand strayed down over her shoulder, under her armpit and over the proud rise of her breast which his fingers cupped and then tentatively pressed, the flesh soft but resilient under his spread fingers.

Moving her leg against his and laying her hand on his thigh, her fingers lightly kneaded it and then crawled slowly upward toward the crotch of his trousers. Her lips whispered with soft flutters against his neck and up to his ear, the lobe which she gently chewed, her hot breath filling his ear. With her hand she found the bulge between his legs and began massaging it until it became large and swollen and pressed tightly against the material. Digging his fingers in her breast, he rubbed and twisted the cockhead of her nipple, making it swell out under the thin white jersey like a dark-red grape.

The loud blast of a horn jerked them up, startled. The car swerved to the right as he quickly spun the wheel and narrowly missed a car which roared past them, its horn a continuous screech.

"My God!" Dave exclaimed. After a moment he laughed hollowly and said, "Honey, our romance almost came to a sudden and permanent conclusion."

Erin looked at him and said, "Can't we open a new chapter?"

He glanced at her quickly, at her flushed face and the thick hair tangled by the wind, at her blue eyes, their lids half-closed, gleaming with a frank invitation and then he slowed the car, soon turning off the highway onto a graveled road which he followed until he turned again, this time onto a bumpy lane leading into a small wood.

Switching off the key, he turned toward her, one hand still on the wheel. Wordless they looked at each other for a moment, feeling the tension between them, stretched tautly like an elastic band. But it snapped suddenly as they fell together, their bodies hungry and frantic. For they met like two wild cats, each furiously trying to subdue the other with their lips and hands, chewing, scratching, bruising, their mouths pressed together like two crushed flowers, biting each other's lips and tongues, their hands sliding heavily over the curves and hollows of their bodies as though they were trying to hurt each other.

She cried aloud as he grasped her hard with one hand and wrenched her around so that her back smashed against the steering wheel and the hard rim dug into her flesh and locked one arm around her. His lips bit into the smooth golden hollow below her neck while his fingers, tangled in her hair and pulling the roots, held her head like a vice. His other hand pressed and squeezed her breast as though it were an orange, as though he were trying to twist it off; so sharp was the pain that she screamed and struggled furiously to make him stop, kicking her legs until her skirt fell back over her belly, exposing the sheer pink of her panties under which the blond curls of her mound lay like a yellow crocus. Her full, tanned thighs trembled like golden jelly as she bucked and writhed, trying to escape, trying to free her twisted right arm from where it was crushed against his chest, the pen in his pocket jabbing into her flesh. He stopped her moans with his mouth and at the same time brought the palm of his hand down with a loud smack against one of her inner thighs, leaving a bright pink imprint, the sting and shock of the blow momentarily halting her contortions. He worked his hand up under the elastic of her panties, touching her wet throbbing pussy and tantalized the warm moist lips between her legs. As she felt his hand loosen on the back of her neck and his lips kiss her more tenderly, she began to relax and slowly freed her hands. But when his nails suddenly scratched the tender flesh under the fleece of her loins, she clawed his back and bit his lip until the blood flowed.

"You bitch!" he snarled. He clasped her wrists grimly in one of his hands. In one quick movement he pushed her off him and, still holding her wrists, opened the door and said quickly, "Get out."

He got out and pulled her after him. Her legs slid over the seat, the friction burning the naked underside of her thighs; she felt as though her arms would come out of their sockets. She was filled with a wild anger and wanted to fight back, but at the same time she was enjoying his violence, the open display of his lust for her and her body responded with an equal lust for him. The conflict between her anger and desire made her almost hysterical for a moment; she didn't know whether to tear at him with her nails or to fall upon him with all the love and passion her long pent-up desires demanded as a release.

But she had no time to decide for he threw her roughly to the ground and fell on top of her, the impact of his body crushing the breath out of her. The sharp rip of tearing cloth mingled with her moans as he first tore off her white blouse and then, with one wrench, tore off her bra and pressed his mouth against the soft pulp of her breast. When she felt his hard mouth sucking and biting the tender, aching nipple, flashes of pain lanced through her body and she began to churn violently beneath him so that her naked back ground into the pebbles, sharp as broken crockery, and the dirt covered roots which stuck out from the sod like knots of rope. She rolled her head from side to side, her taffy-colored hair now streaked with dirt and threaded with bits of leaves and twigs, her eyes closed, her mouth, once red and demure, now bruised and swollen. Scraping her nails down his back, she heard his shirt rip into long ribbons and felt the warm slipperiness of blood against her fingers.

He reached down and tore off the thin mesh of her panties as easily as though he were brushing away a cobweb and twisted around on top of her, dropping his face to the warm soft flesh of her thighs. She groaned and writhed beneath this violent attack that she hadn't expected as she felt his fingers clawing at the tender lips of her pussy, slowly spreading them apart between her widespread legs. She tried to clamp them together in a sudden rush of terror but he was too quick. His head dropped and the sudden wetness of his slavering lips locking onto her throbbing and exposed clit froze her body as it was. A sharp new sensation rippled through her and she felt all the tingling carnal passions that she had built up over all the years before suddenly and without warning, rushing up from her legs and belly and gurgling from her mouth in an uncontrollable torrent of pleading cries.

"Ooooh God! Oooooooooh God!" she groaned over and over without ceasing as the tiny bud of her clit springing into a life that she never knew it possessed as he nibbled and sucked at mercilessly in the sudden crazed passion that had overcome him. Her head rolled from side to side on the hard, unyielding ground, matting her hair with tiny bits of leaves and dirt but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but the delicious rape of the mouth that was making wet sucking sounds down between her open and defenseless legs. Strange, muted and hazy thoughts of that summer day long ago with Pal drifted across her mind and she wanted to open her eyes and see if there were lazy fleecy clouds above, but she couldn't. There was nothing she could do but buck and churn beneath that probing tongue that was burning fire into her young and inviolate pussy.

And then... then when she thought it would never end, he twisted around again, dropping heavily between her legs. He grasped her behind the knees and lifted her thighs high on either side of him, pausing only a moment to drop his pants to his knees.

Erin was beside herself, she had never felt so open and ready in her life. Her pelvis rotated in small hungry circles as he knelt between her open thighs, holding her legs in the air. He smiled down at her.

"You're hot, baby. I'm gonna like this."

"Dave!" she gasped urgently, her pelvis making larger circles now. "Fuck me! Fuck me or I'll die!"

Without hesitation he pulled her under him, the softness of her asscheeks scraping unnoticed along the roughness of the ground, and fell heavily down between her legs. His hand directed his huge throbbing cock to the wet, quivering lips of her cunt, pausing for the slightest of moments to part the thin, blond pubic hair, and then plumbing forward to rip without stopping through the thin, tight membrane of her virginity.

"Aaaagggghhhbh!" Erin suddenly screamed, the hot, blinding pain seared deep in her belly. "Oooooh, God stop, you're killing me. Oh... please... please!"

Her arms jerked up involuntarily and clung to him with all her strength as though it might drive the pain away. Her face was contorted and eyes clenched tightly shut. She struggled once, but then her body stilled to ease the pain. She could feel the full length of the huge penis throbbing deep inside her womb, imbedded to the hilt. Tiny whimpers sifted from between her tightly closed lips as she lay quietly, adjusting to the new and strange invasion of her tight virginal pussy.

Dave did not move at first, but lay rigid on top of her. He was surprised at her virginity from the fervor with which she had entered into the act but knew it would take her a moment for the pain to subside. Then, then by God he would throw it to her like she'd never get it again. He had never had a virgin before and he wasn't going to let this one off easy.

In a moment, Erin made her first tentative movement. She rolled her asscheeks slightly under him and a small surprised gasp of pleasure escaped from between her teeth.

It didn't hurt!

She had thought the pain would last much longer and had been afraid of it but suddenly there was none, a slight bit, yes, but coupled with the strange forbidding sensations coursing through her body it all merged into one great mass of indescribable pleasure.

Dave throbbed his cock inside her.

"Oooooooh, yessss, do it," she whimpered softly up into his ear.

He did it again.

"Oh God, yessss! yessss!" she hissed, her hips suddenly and slowly beginning to rotate beneath him. The tight, wet walls of her cunt contracted jealously around the hardness of his cock as though it were frightened of losing it. He groaned as he felt the muscles deep inside her belly answering the pulsating throbs of his steel-hardened cock. He could hold himself back no longer and began a slow teasing grinding in and out between her widespread thighs. He could feel the tightness of her clasping around him like soft warm butter, the walls of her cunt holding to him in an animalistic desperation as he withdrew slowly and then thrust forward again to sink his massive cock deep back down inside her.

Her pelvis beneath him began a faster rotation now, her asscheeks grinding and writhing down into the hardness of the ground with a sudden abandon that took him by surprise. Mewling sounds of passion and lust bound from her lips in waves of sound that he could not understand but that his body reacted to in the age old rhythm of intercourse that was as old as man himself. He levered up on his toes and dropped his hands down under them to cup the full quavering mounds of her asscheeks so that he could fuck deeper down into her.

"Aaahhhhhg! Ooooooooh!" She groaned and twisted her body hike a tortured snake under him. Thrusting her loins up at him as he ground down into her to take the whole of his expanding cook far down inside the warm hot sheath of her pussy.

Erin rocked in a dream world of obscene and uncontrolled lust under his pounding body. She had never in all her life, not with Pal, not with anything felt the way she did now with his huge male hardness buried to the hilt inside her. She could feel the soft slap of his balls against the tightly clenched cheeks of her asscheeks and the strength of his hands as they kneaded and tore at her tender flesh like the talons of a giant striking bird. She struggled hike a demon to open her thighs wider, to take him deeper, but she could not. He was sunk as far into her as he could go but she wanted more.

"Fuck harder... fuck harder," she pleaded and begged as she felt him begin to thrust his massive hardness into her with longer and longer strokes now. A strange dancing delight of fire was building far down in her quivering belly that drove her churning body on and on in it's wild quest for the delicious sensation building and building in every pore of her sweating body. And then it came! Her muscles contracted tightly around his plunging cock and she cried out wildly thinking the end was here, but soon his strong rhythmic strokes set off another explosion of delight that she had never dreamed possible. Her asscheeks rotated against the hardened earth like a helpless ship caught in the vicious waves of a driving storm. She arched her back like a bow, her head buffeting against the ground, her hair spread out like a golden fan, her full quivering breasts pointing to the sky, trembling and swirling in jerking circles as she quickened her movements to meet the mounting urgency she could feel pulsating through the head of his throbbing prick sunk so deep inside her hungry pussy. It was gentle at first, preceded by a soft, inhuman gurgle from deep in his chest. And then, she felt it. It was as though a giant explosion were ripping her belly apart. Hot white jets of his sperm erupted and flooded into her filling her womb with a warmth and sensation beyond all description. She could feel it racing around deep inside her as though the flood-gates of heaven had been thrown wide-apart. At the same moment, she jerked her own legs uncontrollably out in the air on either side of his spasmodically, grinding hips and a great flash of erotic fire leaped up inside her and exploded in a volcanic eruption of her own orgasm

"Aaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaah!" She moaned, her head turning from side to side, her hair beating the ground hike a golden whip. The muscles of her hips and belly contracted in rolling waves of spasm, the pulsating walls of her hot, sperm-filled pussy sucking the last drops from his still spurting cock, until finally, weak and exhausted, she stopped and fell limply back onto the ground.

They lay for some time, panting and gasping, the smell of her wet orgasm and the odor of the perspiration which coated their bodies like a light film of dew overpowering the fresh scent of the forest around them. Finally he sat up and then helped her to her feet. With her torn panties he wiped the dirt and blood from her back and hips and then he got their suitcases from the car.

Without speaking, they changed their clothes, climbed back into the ear and started on for Chicago.

Erin soon discovered finding another job was not as easy as she had expected. With no experience, she was limited to those which paid the least and seemed to be the least interesting.

"But why don't you take a secretarial course, Erin?" her aunt asked. "They have six-week courses here, and then you'd be much better qualified for a job."

"Yes I suppose I should." Erin sighed. "But I'd like to look a bit more, first."

"Well, I think you're foolish. You know you can stay here as long as you want, so it's not as if you absolutely had to get a job."

"I know aunt Mary," she replied, "and thanks, but the idea of going to school again just leaves me cold."

"Did you see the ad this morning for a clerk at the Harris and Black Department Store? No experience required, it said."

"Yes, I saw it going in on the bus this morning."

"Did you go and see them?"

"Yes, but."

"Well, what happened?"

"I had to take some tests, the usual rigmarole, and after an interview, they said they'd let me know. The hours would be awfully long."

"Did you go any place else?"

"Oh, yes, I went back to the Rogers Employment Agency and they sent me to a couple places... an advertising agency and a distributing outfit for household appliances."

"How were they?"

"The agency looks real good. A modern place and nice people."

"And?"

"And they're going to let me know. That's what they all say," she said impatiently, "we'll let you know. Really doesn't anybody just hire on the spot."

Her aunt laughed. "Well, that's the way it goes, dear. You'll just have to be patient. What kind of a job did they have open."

"Office girl... to open mail, carry copy around, learn the switchboard to help the girl they've get on it now, and things like that. Sounds a little more interesting, at least, than the other jobs I've looked into."

"What about the one at the distributing place?"

"I didn't like it at all. The job, nor the people, nor the place."

"Well, maybe you'll hear from the advertising people. I hope so. Try not to get discouraged, dear."

Erin refrained from telling her exactly how discouraging and exhausting her job hunting had been, for she knew her aunt would only press her the more strongly to take a secretarial course. But since she didn't want to delay earning her own living she wasn't going to give up yet, although she had already found that her interviewers had been interested in her for other reasons than giving her a job. At the distributing company she had finally learned what it was all about. And she had learned with a vengeance

She had gone in, eager and hopeful, dressed in a neat summer suit and pert white hat which framed her tanned face and golden hair impeccably and had waited impatiently to be called in for the interview. The office had been bare and stark, not at all pleasant and not very clean. Back and forth past the open door hurried flashily-dressed cigar-smoking men, talking to each other in loud tones, and rough language. Probably salesmen, she thought, and not very attractive ones at that. She didn't like the appearance of either the office or the employees and when she had finally been summoned into the interviewer's office, she had liked it even less.

Its windows closed, the room smelled of sweat, old paper and stale cigars. Behind a massive desk, which was scarred and chipped, sat a gorilla of a man with a large, square head, black, bushy eyebrows and smoking a cigar. He didn't get up when she entered.

"You can sit down there," he said as he pointed with his cigar, held between nicotine-stained fingers, to a straight-hacked wooden chair.

She sat down and demurely crossed her ankles, her gloved hands folded on her lap while he looked at her for a few moments without speaking. He sucked deeply on his cigar, blew out a swirling cloud of blue smoke, cleared his throat wetly and loudly, and spat on the floor.

"You're not bad, babe, not bad," he said in a gruff voice. "We could use someone like you around here. Do you want the job?"

"What is it exactly?" she said faintly. She already knew she didn't want it but thought she might as well go through with the interview now that she was here.

"Nothing you couldn't do, honey. Opening mail, delivering it and general errand work... going out to get us coffee and stuff like that. Wouldn't tax that beautiful head of yours." He tilted his chair hack and leered at her.

"So what about it?" he said.

"Well, I..." she faltered.

"Doesn't pay much, of course," he said, "but then you haven't to worry about that. The Cromwell Wholesale and Distributing Company always takes care of its employees and there's no doubt that with your looks, babe, you'll be well taken care of around here." He laughed, got up and walked slowly around the desk. She sat quietly, twisting her fingers, and watched his hands; his thumbs were hooked on his belt and one hand held the cigar. They were large and chapped with crescents of dirt under the cracked nails.

"Well, but I..." she started to say.

She didn't dare raise her eyes as he came toward her, but continued to stare at his hands and behind them his stomach which swelled out like a soft, over-ripe watermelon under the belt and shirt, stained with sweat and dirt, soft and wrinkled.

"What's the matter, honey, I won't bite you!" He laughed again as he stood in front of her. She saw his hands move. He flicked his cigar, the ashes falling onto her skirt and over her white gloves. He put his other hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"Well, what about it?" he said.

"I don't think I'll take the job," she said, she was tense and frightened. But what could happen to her here in his office? She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at the closed door.

He roared with laughter again and moved his hand to the nape of her neck and rubbed it with firm fingers.

"Honey, you better think again. There might be more money in it for you than just the job. You know, you're quite a looker."

"I don't think I want the job," she said again and started to get up, but his hand drew her toward him and he crushed her against his chest. His head bent toward hers; she saw his stained teeth and smelled the nauseating smell of his breath and his mouth sought her own. Turning her head, she struggled to free herself from his arms and kicked his shin.

"Goddamn!" he said. "You're a real she-devil!"

He lifted her by the armpit and put her on the edge of the desk. Pushing her back against the hard wood and crumpled papers, he leaned over her, his crotch pressed against hers, his jutting stomach spread over her hips, and held her down, one hand clamped firmly on her breast while the other searched under her skirt and fumbled up over her thighs to where her panties met in a flimsy silken triangle over her soft pubic mount.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let go of me!" She twisted and writhed under his hands, feeling his short, stubby middle finger insinuating itself up under the elastic legband of her thin nylon panties. She gasped in sudden pain and humiliation as she suddenly felt it sink deep between the fleshy lips of her pussy and far up inside her. His other hand left her breast and clamped over her mouth, trying to drown out the cries of terror building there at the sudden and unexpected attack. Erin was almost out of her mind from the quick paralyzing fear of what the pudgy, fat man might do to her in his wild uncontrolled lust. She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes bulging wide in disbelief. Sweat was rolling in tiny rivulets from his forehead from the unaccustomed exertion he was forcing on his flaccid body and his eyes shone with twin sparks of madness she had seen before in the wild rolling eyes of the insane in some far distant horror movie she had seen as a child. There was nothing she could do. Her body was frozen and she felt as though she was some distant observer gazing down on the unbelievable scene of her own rape in the office of this horrible uncivilized creature that could not even he called human.

She lay on the paper littered desk like some defenseless cornered mouse chased into a crevice by an evil purring cobra. Her muscles were useless and she could only follow his lewd, obscene actions with the fear dilated pupils of her eyes as he pried her legs apart with his own short fat thighs and edged far up between them. He slipped his finger wetly from her cunt and placing both hands under her knees, lifted her legs high up off the floor, at the same time pulling her toward him across the desk. She could feel her body sliding with ease through the disorganized stacks of paper that floated to the floor around them with a strange uneasy silence. There was no sound in the room now except the fat man's heavy, labored breathing that became more desperate with each moment he drew closer to possessing her lovely young body. Her shoulders on either side of his head and his hands snaked around her hips pulling her at him again until the whole of her upturned loins were pressed tight against the hard bulge beneath his pants.

The harsh metallic sound of a zipper being hurriedly pulled down broke the silence of the room and she felt the wet lubricated end of his penis pressing hotly against the soft inner flesh of her thighs at the top of her silk stockings. There was nothing separating them now but the thin flimsy band of her panties running up between her wide-held legs.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear herself away from this evil creature who was using her young fear-frozen body as though she were a whore that had just walked in off the streets. But... she couldn't. All she could do was lay as she was, helpless on her back in the messy pile of papers on the desk and let this dirty, filthy old man play with her secret parts as he willed. He lifted her legs higher still and pulled her even closer to the edge of the desk until the white rounded ends of her asscheeks were hanging slightly over the side. At the same time he arched his loins toward the center of her open thighs. She whimpered piteously, the first sound she had been able to utter since the horrible nightmare had begun and a trembling please escaped in a forced whisper from her throat.

"Please... please don't do it to me... please!"

Then to her increased horror, she saw a lewd smile break across his fat slobbering lips.

"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you like you ain't never been fucked," he grunted down at her in animal satisfaction, his small beady eyes dropping from her face to the exposed center of her loins. "Bet you got the tightest little pussy in town."

His hand moved down the inner flesh of her thigh and she automatically raised her head from the desk where it was lying and looked with pleading eyes down between the full cleavage of her dress covered breasts to the spread of her legs below. Another small squeal of protest escaped from her lips as she saw his thick, fat hand slide around the curve of her leg of her thigh and between her legs to pull aside the thin wet crotch piece of her panties. Her eyes widened further and she gave a choking gasp as she felt the hardness of the head of his cock probing harshly at the now open and unprotected lips of her fear-quivering cunt. He lifted it up and down in the nature-moistened slit for a moment, parting the full fleshy lips like a blunt knife slicing it's way through a soft cube of butter. Her stomach felt sick and nauseated and she heard him begin spitting obscenities through his clenched teeth as though he were a mad man.

"Oh little baby, what a tight li'l pussy... lovely blond cunt hair...gonna fuck you crazy... come to Daddy, baby."

And then... unable to contain himself any longer he jerked forward, sinking his fat, thick penis half-way into her cringing pussy. Erin gave a desperate choking gasp, an expression of utter incredibility coming over her face as she felt the hard blunt 8-inch cock sliding relentlessly into her.

"Oh, Ooooohh, God, No... no... please... No!" her voice rasped helplessly as the hard brutal realization that all this was real tunneled into her tortured mind.

The fat man's eyes gleamed, as he looked down between their now lewdly coupled bodies and watched the slow agonizing disappearance of his thick round cock into the soft blond fleece between Erin's upheld thighs. When he had it a little over half way in, he stopped the wet, viscous penetration and hissed down at her agonized face:

"There honey... you like Daddy's cock in ya, don'cha?"

Erin moaned in her agony of humiliation and did not answer the leering man's torturous question.

"Ya like it, baby, I can tell," he chuckled obscenely, "Ya want more don'cha? Ya want it all in ya, oh? I can feel that tight li'l pussy beggin' for it. Tell me, baby, tell me, and I'll give it to ya."

She could not speak and just nodded her head. God, she had to get it over with or this horrible man would never let her go. She just had to.

"Tell me, baby!" he said more brutally time, pinching the soft inner flesh of her thigh hard between his pudgy fingers.

"Aaaagghhh!" Erin grunted. "Y-You're hurting me!"

"Tell me to fuck it then," he teased lewdly. "Tell me to fuck that li'l cunt of yours, baby."

"Ooooh God," she groaned at the pain and finally found the strength from deep in her sub-conscious mind to follow his obscene command. "Yesss, God yes... fuck it... fuck it!"

The evil leering fat man above her released his flesh-tearing grip on her thighs and with a triumphant wheeze rammed his thick, fat cock as far into her belly as it would go.

"Ooooooooh," Erin groaned as it seared up inside her pussy, stretching the tender lips and inner walls wide apart. She grunted as the hard blood-filled head smashed with a jolt all the way up to her cervix. She was completely impaled in the most humiliating position in the world and the sight of her lush young body completely at his mercy that way drove the fat, puffing man almost wild. He rammed in and out of her quickly and without regard for the pain he was subjecting her to by the twisting and turning of her flesh beneath his hands as his cock pistoned in and out of her widely stretched pussy like a huge, throbbing blimp. There was nothing she could do but lay there and groan out her pain and indignation into the unhearing air above her. There was no one to help her and she lay soft and helpless on the desk until she suddenly heard his gasp down at her and felt the hot wet sperm of his stolen passion shooting in short powerful jets deep down inside her belly.

He stood sagging and wheezing between her legs for a moment afterwards as the hardness of his penis slowly drained itself and deflated inside her and then he backed away and collapsed in a huffing heap on the couch against the wall behind him.

Erin had never felt so soiled and degraded in her life as she struggled to her feet from the top of the desk. The crotch band of her panties slipped back into place under her dress as she stood up and she could feel it wet and sticky against the flesh between her legs from the flood of his sperm inside her.

Pale and trembling, her fingers nervously tried to straighten her skirt as he shakily struggled to his feet and stood beside her.

"Baby, you're a nice little screw. I think we can use you around here," he laughed as though he had said something humorous.

Erin said nothing as she struggled to re-adjust her clothing,

"Okay, okay," he said, laughing again and blowing his foul smelling cigar smoke in her face. "Ya can't blame me for grabbin' a little from a cute young gal like you, can ya. I'm only human."

She finished with her clothing and combed out her hair quickly without breaking the silence.

"Won't do ya no good to go to the cops, girly, if that's what you're thinkin'," he threatened with a knowing smile. "All them guys in the outer office would swear they didn't hear no rape. Might even say ya propositioned me for a job."

Without saying a word or looking at him, she picked up her purse, walked over to the door, opened it and slammed it shut behind her. She could hear him laughing as she walked away and tiny tears bubbled in the corner of her eyes.

Welcome to the big city, she heard the mocking voice of the fat man run through her mind. Ya'll love it, baby. And... she decided then and there that she would from this moment on.

Two days later the advertising agency called and told her that the job for which she had been interviewed was hers. Happy and eager, she began work the next morning, resolving to do her best on this, her first job. Although the work was routine - opening mail, delivering it, running copy and doing other errands, learning to handle the switchboard and receive clients in the reception room - the novelty of doing something and being paid for it, as well as the amiability of the staff, made her like the job and conscientiously try to do her best. And in turn, the employees liked her, her youthful air, her fresh beauty, her desire to please and her quick response to their wishes.

Several of the men asked her for dates. She liked, particularly, a young copy-writer named Bill who, although not much taller than she, had a ready wit and took delight in showing her the nightlife of Chicago, a new experience for Erin, whose night life heretofore had consisted of the movies and a few dances in the farming community in which she had been raised. So at first she was somewhat shocked by the more ragged side of life - the burlesque shows, nightclub shows, and the sight of prostitutes patrolling the sidewalks - but soon the novelty and shock wore off and she accepted it as only another aspect of her new and interesting life.

One Friday night after a late movie she and Bill stopped at a small all-night cafe on State Street for a hamburger and coffee. While they were dawdling over their second cup and deciding what to do next, a hand clapped Bill on the shoulder and a hearty voice said, "Well, if it isn't Bill Stevenson! Haven't seen you in months. What are you doing in this crummy section?"

Erin looked up and in the mirror behind the counter saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man with black hair, a tanned face, smiling dark eyes and a wide, friendly grin. "I'll he damned! Lars Mahoney!" Bill exclaimed as he swirled around on his stool. "Where you've been all this time?"

"Oh, screwin' around. Makin' some dough. This and that. What about yourself?" he said. He sat down on the next seat to Bill and signaled the waiter for a cup of coffee.

"I'm downtown at the Shepherd Advertising Agency, making with the words and trying to persuade frazzled housewives to shell out $5.15 for hand lotion which costs a manufacturer twenty cents to make. Great stuff. Most ennobling for the soul."

"Sounds like a real drag, man," Lars said. He glanced at Erin's bare left hand. "Hey who's your chick? Or have you got her patented?"

He craned his head around Bill and grinned at Erin who smiled back.

"Oh, sorry," Bill said, "Erin, this is Lars Mahoney. Erin Holiday. Lars and I grew up in the same neighborhood."

"Glad to meet you, Erin," Lars said and reached over to shake her hand. "You're from Chicago? You don't have that Loop pallor."

"No, I'm fresh from the country. I've only been here about four or five weeks," Erin said.

"Frightened in with the other heifers, huh? You'd better leave before you get slaughtered, too," Lars said with a laugh. "Chi's a real crazy town, baby."

"But I like it - at least so far. Bill's been showing me some of the night life."

"Not like life down on the farm, I bet. Don't you know?"

"What?"

"Do you know it?"

"Know what? What do you mean?" Puzzled, she looked at him and then at Bill.

"My God," Lars said. "A real prude. I thought they weren't grown anymore."

Erin flushed. But when he grinned at her she realized he was only teasing her.

"So I'm a prude," Erin said. "So I need some education. So what did they mean?"

"He wants to know if you like it," Bill said.

"Oh, sure I do," she said, smiling at them. "Give me a few more weeks and I'll even know knowing." She sat up straighter, her plump DD-cup breasts swelling softly out under the tight sweater and brushed her heavy hair back with her hands.

Lars was still looking at her, a half-smile on his face, frankly caressing with his eyes her moist, red lips and the firm upsweep of her breasts. She gazed back at him, coolly and openly. She felt nude under his stare. She liked the feeling.

Tom cleared his throat and said, "Do you live around here, Lars?"

Lars dragged his gaze away from Erin. "Yeah, not far," he said. He lifted his cup, cradling it with his hands and sipped slowly. Erin glanced in the mirror and caught him looking at her again over the rim of his cup.

"Well Erin," Bill said, "we'd better be going. Nice to have seen you, Lars." His voice was brisk and commanding.

"Yeah, I gotta split, too," Lars said. "Here I'll pay." He threw some coins on the counter.

As they got up and started out the door he took Erin's arm, holding her hack momentarily and whispered quickly, "Where can I reach you, baby?"

"I work at the Shepherd Agency, too," she said softly.

"Okay," he said and released her.

"Well, so long, kids," he said. "I'm going the other way. See you later."

They shook hands and parted.

The next morning, while cleaning the small apartment into which she had just moved, Erin was thinking of Lars. She was angry at herself, not only having failed to give him her home telephone number, but also for not having indicated more clearly that she would like to see him again. After they had parted the night before, she had asked Bill about him; he had replied that although he didn't know what Lars was doing now, he had always been somewhat of a worthless bum and had tangled with the police several times and, furthermore, he added, he was someone whom Erin should steer clear of. But this, of course, together with her immediate attraction to him, only tantalized her curiosity and made her all the more eager to see him again.

When the telephone rang, she dropped the dust mop and ran to the phone, hoping it would be Lars, but realizing at the same time that her new number wasn't listed. It was Lars.

"Hello?" she said.

"Erin? This is Lars, the cat you met last night."

"Oh, yes. Hello, Lars. How are you?" Her heart was beating rapidly.

"Fine baby. Had a hell of a time getting you. Called that slave joint of yours, but the operator said you didn't work on Saturdays. Didn't want to give me your number and address, but I finally conned her into it - told her I was your brother and just got in town. So how are you?"

"Fine, Lars. Busy cleaning my new apartment."

"Yeah? Like to see it. I don't dig phones. Look, baby, you got anything on tonight?"

"Well, no, I guess not." She had a date with Bill, but knew she could break it by telling him her aunt was ill and she had to go over to see her.

"Swell. I'm tied up 'til about nine, but I'll pick you up at your pad right after. Okay?"

"Where?"

"At your place. Okay?"

"Yes, that's fine, Lars."

"Okay, baby. See you then. Keep cool."

"Bye, Lars. See you tonight."

Lars took Erin to the "960 Club," a small nightclub on south State Street where, he said, the feature attraction of the show was a friend of his, Flossie McNamara, who was billed as Rock Night, the Latin Bombshell. After the show, he added, we can go backstage if you'd like, and meet some of the cast. Erin was pleased by the idea of actually being able to go behind the scenes and looked about her with interest as they sat at the bar, perched on high stools.

The Club was small, consisting of a large rectangular bar with a scarlet curtained stage at one end, its floor on a level with the bar, and few small tables scattered along the sides. The floor was carpeted with a thick, scarlet rug and three of the walls were entirely covered with mirrors while the fourth was draped with the same scarlet material which curtained the stage. The ceiling was black, studded with stars which twinkled softly and afforded the only illumination in the room. In the dim light she could see in the mirror Lars and herself reflected back a dozen times, his rugged darkness strikingly paired with her own blondness. On a small platform in front of the stage a four-piece combo was beating out a popular song. Lars explained that when the show started the platform sank down to the floor, permitting a clear view of the stage, and that the girls not only used the stage for their acts but also walked along the top of the bar.

Rock's appearance was heralded by a roll of drums, the darkening of the overhead lights and a white spotlight shining on the curtains which slowly parted. And there was Rock, dressed in a tight, black evening gown, she looked like a black, sinuous mermaid for the dress was covered with shiny sequins which glittered and sparked in the spotlight like the scales of an iridescent fish and hugged each curve like a rubber glove. Except for her arms, which were encased in long, mesh gloves, the dress covered her completely and was fastened at the neck by a narrow collar of sequins. On her head was a glistening, winged cap which came down over her ears and held back the long black hair which rippled almost to her waist. One hand on her thrust-out hip, the other holding a long cigarette-holder, she was completely motionless, a shimmering statue against the red drapes, the blackness of her costume relieved only by her white, red-nailed hands, her face, chalky in the light, and her black eyes and full red lips.

As the music softly throbbed, she slowly moved her arm, took a drag on her cigarette and blew out the smoke through her nostrils. She began to sing a torch song, her voice deep and husky, caressing each word and note, intimate and seductive. At first she barely moved her body, but as the song became more passionate she started to weave her shoulders and hips. Two long slashes of startling white flesh suddenly appeared; her dress was slit both from the collar to the waist and from the floor up to her thigh. With her eyes closed, her head and shoulders thrown hack, swaying in time to the music, the slit widened to show the rising curves of her breasts, framed by the jet-blackness of her gown. The music swelled up in strong, rhythmic beats and she glided languidly about the stage, her body undulating like a glittering, black serpent, her eyes staring brazenly at the audience through half-closed lids. Against the black inverted V of her skirt, her legs flickered in and out, their whiteness and nudity accentuated.

Then, as the spotlight changed to a soft rose, she unfastened some hooks at her neck and waist and the dress suddenly fell away. Like a statue of pink alabaster, her skin glowed with the soft luster of a seashell's interior. Her breasts and sex were covered with narrow satin strips, its color so nearly the same rosy hue as her skin that she seemed to be really nude, and it was only the long, pink fringe, hanging over the material, which betrayed the illusion. Swinging like moving fingers over the strong jut of her mound and over the plump orbs of her haunches, their ends caressed her lush thighs, the inner sides of which softly rubbed together as she rolled her hips in large circles and slowly revolved around the stage. Living the throbbing, sensual beat of the music, her body undulated suggestively, lewdly, her arms raised above her head, entwining and parting in the flowing movements of an Oriental dancer; her torso weaving in circles, her entire body seemed taut with sexual tension, but at the same time relaxed and languorous; the curtains of fringe swayed like the tentacles of a pink jelly-fish, drawing attention to the proud, pointed breasts, arched high, and to the hidden center of her sex.

As the spotlight followed her, bathing her in a pink sea of light, she sauntered slowly onto the bar and walked along its top. Leisurely she moved, gracefully and deliberately, her shoulders, breasts and hips pulsating in time to the music. Her heels clicked on the hard wood and as she passed, a pungent scent of musky perfume came from her body. Looking upward, following the long sweep of her legs which widened and met at the apex of her sex, one could see a faint film of sweat which coated her body like a pink dew.

When she had circled the bar and returned to the stage, she put her hands behind her. When she brought them forward again she was holding the two satin strips which she tossed to the side. Her breasts and the lower part of her belly were now covered only by the pink fringe. Her movements became more intense and erotic, and the thin curtains swayed to and fro as she threw her torso into violent contortions, permitting glimpses of the firm twin arcs of her breasts, tipped with hard rosy buds and the large pad of her sex, covered only by a G-string. The spotlight dimmed, shadowing more deeply the tapering under-slope of her large swaying breasts, molding more richly the turning curves of her body and legs, accentuating the glistening, pink highlights on her thrusting breasts and belly and swirling asscheeks. Her legs spread wide, she bent backwards, her long, black hair sweeping the floor while she swayed her torso so the fringe fell back and one could see only the long inverted V of her legs, climaxing at the wide open mat of her wide spread crotch, as wide as a hand and above it her breasts, completely nude and pointing upward like two cones. When she stood up again, she moved onto the bar and once more circled it, rolling her hips, thrusting out her pelvis, contorting her torso into erotic positions until her entire body seemed to be vibrating with sexual passion. With her heavy-lidded eyes frank and inviting, her hair floating behind her, her tongue sliding over her wet, red lips, her hands moved heavily down on her breasts, caressed the swell of her hips and slipped up her thighs to her mound, which she slowly and suggestively rubbed.

Once back on the stage, she quickly tore off the fringes and stood posed for a few moments in the rosy spotlight, entirely nude except for the almost imperceptible G-string. Then she ran off the stage. The curtains closed and the house lights came on again.

Erin was still staring wide-eyed at the closed curtains, her mouth partly open, when she felt Lars' arm around her waist.

"Well, that's Rock. How do you like her, baby?" Lars said.

"She's terrific! I've never seen anyone like her before."

"Yeah. The greatest. How'd you like to meet her?"

"Oh, I'd love to. But what about the other acts?"

"Most of them are real drags. Come on, let's cool it backstage. I've already cleared it with Joe."

"Who's Joe?"

"He runs the joint. Come on back."

As the curtains parted for another act, they went through a door near the bar and found themselves in a different world. In the bar everything had been clean and luxurious; here was dirt, confusion and the smell of powder perfume and sweat. Next to the stage sat a heavily made-up girl with red hair, sprawled on a broken down chair and smoking a cigarette. When she saw Lars, she quickly sat up and straightened her dress.

"Hi, Lars. What brings you here, darling?" she said, looking at him through heavily mascara lids. She stared rudely at Erin as if to add, "And what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello Lacy. Havin' a ball?" Lars said.

"You kiddin'? There's about as much chance havin' a ball in this joint as havin' one at a meeting of the D.A.R. Jeez!"

"What in hell are you complaining about? You're making some bucks, aren't you?" He stared back at her, a disgusted look on his face.

"Yeah, but for what? Put your clothes on, take 'em off to tantalize the bug-eyes out there," she said, jerking her thumb toward the bar, "put 'em back on, go out and hustle for drinks, change costumes, take your clothes off again, and so on and so on. My God, my skin feels like it's gettin' ingrown zippers."

"Good old Lacy. Always complaining. I'll see you later."

"Don't I know it," she yelled after him and watched them sullenly as they walked down the corridor.

"What's she so stirred up about?" Erin asked.

"Aw, she bugs me," Lars said. "Always biting her tongue. I got her this job and now she's putting it down. I'm about fed up with her."

Erin looked at him perplexedly wondering what the story was between them. She felt a twinge of jealousy that there should be something between Lars and Lacy, and then was surprised at her own feeling.

He took her by the arm and steered her around a corner. A girl sauntered out of a dressing room, completely nude, smoking a cigarette, and clicked down the hall on high heels into another room. Several girls walked by, smiled warmly at Lars and greeted him by name. One of them was Rock, now dressed in a tight, white gown.

"Lars, darling? How are you?" she crooned and then kissed him.

"Fine, Rock. Where you off to? I'd like to have you meet Erin here," he said.

"Hello honey," she smiled at Erin. "How do you like this rat nest?"

"Oh, I... I... really, I think it's exciting," Erin said. She was somewhat awed by all the activity backstage and the glimpses of nude women through the open dressing-room doors.

"How about a talk someplace, Rock? I promised Erin a real look at you!" He laughed, winked at Rock and patted her plump haunch.

"Hell, Lars, I've got to go out and hustle drinks. Sorry, honey," she said, looking at Erin. "But why don't you go in my room back there and make yourselves at home?"

"Okay," Lars said. "See you later."

They walked back to Rock's dressing room which, as she was one of the stars, she shared only with two other girls. It was a small cubicle, with two dressing tables at one side, their tops littered with jars and bottles of cream and perfume, lipstick tubes and mascara brushes, loose bobby pins and spilled powder, and a hundred other items, all jumbled together in a hopeless mess. Against one wall was an open closet, bulging with costumes and dresses, some dirty and frayed with torn hems hanging limply. On the chairs were scattered other costumes and a few G-strings piled in wrinkled masses, mesh brassieres and filmy panties flung over the backs, while on the floor were spike-heeled shoes, red, black, lavender, lying where they had been taken off together with a pair of soiled underpants and a litter of spilled pins, bits of thread and scraps of paper; while over all, the sweet heavy odor of talcum powder and perfume mingled with the acrid scent of female sweat. From the bare, glaring light bulb suspended from the ceiling hung Rock's pink G-string, still swaying slightly.

"Home, sweet home," Lars said.

"How do they ever find anything to put on in this mess?" Erin laughed as she peered in the door.

"No trouble there - the customers like it better if they don't find anything to put on."

They walked into the room.

"How about a drink?" he said. He brushed a pile of clothes from a chair onto the floor and picked up a bottle of cheap whiskey which was standing under it. He fished around in the litter on the table until he found two glasses, both dirty and rimmed with lipstick. He splashed some liquor in the glasses.

"Here, have a slug."

But as he raised his head, he saw Erin in the mirror. She was standing behind him, looking around at the costumes and G-strings at the tables covered with cosmetics, her eyes dreaming and wondering. Putting the glasses down, he turned around.

"You're a strange chick, baby," he said. "Damn if I don't think you're somewhat shocked by all this." He paused. "Are you?"

"No," she said slowly, looking at him wide eyed. "If anything, it sort of excites me." She laughed, a rosy flush creeping up her tanned cheeks.

He stared at her a moment and then reached out and took her roughly in his arms. Tilting back her head, he pressed her lips against his and felt her body, at first tense, slowly relax as he kissed her warmly and deeply. But then she began to struggle and push him away, glancing at the door.

"Really," she panted, "should we being doing this here?" She gestured toward the open door.

"You kidding?" he grinned. "If anything, they'd gather around to watch, and then hire us as a new act."

He leaned against the dressing-table and folded his arms, his long legs stretched out before him.

"But if you're worried, baby, we can always close the door, and in the meantime, relax and have a drink."

He handed her a glass.

"Oh, it's not that. It's just that... well... I just." She stammered and then stopped. "I'd just like to look around a little. It's all so new."

She took a large gulp of the whiskey, coughed at its rawness and moved slowly around the room. She fingered Rock's pink tasseled bra, held up a wisp of black panties and glanced up at the G-string dangling from the light cord. Pausing in front of the closet, she ran her hand along the bright line of costumes and evening dresses, picked up the skirt of a blue satin gown and rubbed it against her face. Finally she put out a tight, black evening gown and walked over to the mirror; she posed in front of it holding the dress against her.

"Why don't you try it on?" Lars said.

"Oh, could I? Do you not think they would mind?"

"Sure, go ahead. Try everything on, if you want."

He reached up and pulled the G-string from the cord.

"How about this? You'd look fine in it."

"Well, shut the door then, and turn around while I change."

"Why the bashful act? Think I've never seen a nude woman before?"

"No, I just want to be in the other costume before you see me."

"Well, okay, but there's better things to look at in this joint than a dirty wall. I'll be back in five minutes."

She watched him as he walked over to the door and shut it behind him. A tingle of anticipation prickled in her belly. Seems the strippers flaunting their nude flesh had made her want to imitate them and eager to try on their costumes so she could see how she, herself, looked. And above all, she wanted to display herself to Lars.

Quickly she stripped off her clothes and put on a black G-string, fitting the small swatch of silk over her mound and adjusting the almost invisible string over her haunches. Next she found a black mesh bra, really only half a bra, for it came up only to her nipples, supporting the soft under part of her breasts and leaving the top half free. Picking up a rouge stick, she reddened and rubbed her nipples until they stood out like two crimson eyes. Then she slipped on a short gauze jacket beneath which her golden skin glowed warmly, and a short black skirt which cinched over her belly and hung in two sections, slit at the sides, one panel covering the triangle of her pubic hair and the other, her full, ripe asscheeks. Here and there the black satin was slashed in the pattern of large flowers, gauze-covered, her tawny skin showing through the mesh like pale copper flowers lying on a black field. She combed out her long, blond hair so it rippled freely down over her shoulders, applied a slash of bright red lipstick to her mouth and a heavy coat of dark mascara to her thick eyelashes. Running a finger over the exotic labels on the row of perfume bottles, she picked out a heavy, spicy scent and sprayed herself liberally.

Just then she heard the door open and she turned around to see Lars standing in the doorway, staring at her.

She laughed and said, "How do I look?"

He continued to stare at her without saying a word for a few moments and then whistled. He shut the door and turned the key in the lock.

"Baby, I'd hire you in a second."

Poised on her high heels, she revolved slowly before him.

"All we need is some music," she said.

"We can supply our own music," he said, as he started toward her.

"No, wait," she said. "Let me take it off first."

He paused, watching her, his eyes narrowed, following the golden curves of her body as she took off the jacket and the skirt. She stood before him, the firm upper swell of her breasts protruding out above the black mesh of the half-bra, the nipples swollen and rouged. On her loins the small patch of silk lay like a painted black leaf, accentuating the tawny tan of her full hips and thighs. She turned around, her haunches rotating slowly, their orbs rising and falling, a thin dew of perfume still lingering on the small of the back and filming the downy hair which traced a pale line from her navel to her mound. Her back to him, she tossed back her hair and arched her breasts, watching him in the mirror, as he stared at her, holding his breath. Their eyes met in the mirror and as he started for her, she turned and leaped toward him, scissoring his waist with her bare legs and flinging her arms around his neck. His hands under her asscheeks, holding her against him he buried his head in her chest and sucked the nipple of her breast into his mouth. They fell over onto the floor, tipping over a chair, their limbs and bodies writhing on the floor amongst the scattered costumes and spilled powder.

He ripped off her G-string with one quick jerk of his strong, lean hands and at the same time she heard the harsh metal grate of his zipper ripping down the front of his trousers. Pinioning her on the hard wooden floor with his arms, he insinuated his pulsating cock between the warm, flowing lips of her tight, already throbbing pussy and without halting for a moment stabbed upwards.

"Oooooooh," Erin cringed before the sudden entry as she felt his hard 9-inch male flesh slithering deep up inside her. He penetrated her so deeply on the first thrust their short pubic hair twisted and tangled together as he ground his pelvis tightly down into her loins. The soft skin of his testicles brushed teasingly against the now widely exposed lips of her soft sensitive ass nestled just below their wet coupling. Without waiting he began sliding in and out of her with long, desperate thrusts. She arched her back, unable to hold herself back. Her blood pounded through her veins like hot, molten lead and she could feel every tiny ripple of skin around his warm, thrusting penis as it raced madly in and out between her wide-stretched legs. She jerked her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, her heels beating on the hollowing cheeks of his asscheeks like a drum. And then, almost as suddenly as it began, she began a roller coaster of orgasms, one right after another until she felt his cock begin jerking deep down inside her womb and the warm hot spurts of his sperm flooded inside her with the hard driving force of his spending passion.

"God Cindy, that was beautiful," he gasped into her ear, his body still quivering on top of her. Then he was still.

After a few minutes he breathed deeply without saying a word and dismounted her. She lay on the floor still gasping and moaning softly from the utter abandon and power of her quick orgiastic releases. She opened her eyes slightly and watched him as he quickly undressed and strode over to the dressing table. He picked up a large jar of cold cream and returned to kneel down beside her on the floor. He ripped off her bra and began spreading large globs of the cool, sweet smelling mess over her entire body from head to toe. Then he covered himself with it and lay down beside her. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her over on top of him, her back against his chest, her taut, full breasts pointing straight up to the ceiling. He began rubbing the cream over her body, his hands smoothing its thickness over her shoulders, all around the hard throbbing nipples of her tits, and down over her belly and thighs. His teasing fingers were almost driving Erin crazy and her body squirmed uncontrollably on top of him, sliding in the thick coat of cold cream as though she were some wet, slippery eel he was trying to subdue. His hands halted at the Vee of her loins and he gently pulled her thighs apart. Erin, groaned and let them limply slide open, her feet falling to the floor on either side of his. Then his fingers massaged slowly between her legs, pulling at the full, throbbing lips surrounding her pussy and gently easing them open. He coated the soft, hidden flanges of wet flesh heavily with the smooth slippery cream and then slowly inserted his middle finger inside to massage well the pink, inner walls. She moaned from the weird sensations coursing through her and felt the hardness of his cock pressing up against the fleshy crevice of her asscheeks jerk slightly into a beginning erection.

The lust mounted in her with each moment she felt his penis growing against her until finally she could stand the tantalizing ministrations to her body no longer. She squirmed around on top of him and straddled his upper thighs, her knees slithering up onto the floor on either side of his hips. Her wet, cream covered pussy was poised directly above his now fully erect penis and reaching down between their slippery bodies she directed the huge, rounded head straight into the lips of her waiting pussy. She didn't lower her asscheeks immediately but let it prod up between her wide-open loins for a moment, at the same time reaching behind her with both hands to pull the flanges of her pulsating pussy a little wider apart to allow him greater access. She felt him jerk up towards her and then with a tight, gasping groan she screwed her asscheeks hard down against his loins taking the whole of his rigid rock-hard cock deep, deep up in her belly.

"Ooooooooh, Lars! God, ooooooooh, Lars!"

The soft, rounded cheeks of her ass smacked down against the upthrusting pelvis and she felt the giant, pulsating head smash into her cervix like the end of a hard, cruel, battering ram. A flash of blue raced through her brain at the unexpected depths he reached from the position she was in. There was nothing to prevent his total entrance into her wide-open cunt and she groaned like an ancient captive impaled on the sharp pointed spear of a philistine warrior.

"God, baby, you're tight, tight, God how tight," he panted beneath her pained assault and then began a slow grinding up into her. His hips rotated slowly around on the floor, sending the head of his cock into great swirling circles deep up in her belly. Erin groaned, her mouth hanging open in helpless acceptance, her eyes bulging wide until suddenly the whole of her loins became accustomed to the strange, deep invasion that seemed as though it would gouge the very intestines from her. Finally, she grunted and the deep burning passion within her, kindled more by the sudden pain than anything, took hold of her body. She moved slowly at first and then began riding his body like a racing jockey on a wildly sprinting horse. Her pelvis slid uncontrollably in wide, harsh circles against his greased hips, her breasts and belly slipping back and forth over his chest. Like a golden, buttered nymph she rode him until suddenly she felt it rising again inside her. The hot, burning sensation of lust that had to be drowned, drowned in the hot, swirling liquid of the orgasm she could feel bursting upon her. Lars, beneath her churning body, thrust like a madman as far up into her as he could go with each downward stroke of her asscheeks, their creamed bodies slithering hotly together, the sound blending with the wet sucking noise of the lewd coupling of their genitals as they both raced for a fulfillment seconds away.

It came! "Lars! Lars! I'm cumming! Darling, I'm cummmmming!" Hot flashes of red and yellow exploded in her brain as she felt the whole of her white, quivering belly erupt like a thousand roman candles around the hard driving shaft of flesh skewering up into her humping body. At the same time, she heard a harsh guttural cry beneath her and felt his cock begin pumping like a fire hose hot jets of his thick, warm sperm far up into her cunt. Their intermingling juices poured out the tightly clasped lips of her pussy and ran in thin, pearly rivulets down his still spurting prick and disappeared as it churned into the cold cream covering their genitals below by their still wildly gliding bodies. Its musky scent mingled with the sweet smell of the cream, the flowery fragrance of the powder and perfume and the animal odor of male and female sweat.

During the next few weeks Erin had many dates with Lars, most of them spent making love in her room. And when she thought about him during the day, thought about their lovemaking and his captivating mixture of roughness and tenderness, she wondered if she were falling in love with him. At any rate, she found her emotions and life centering around him more and more.

The mystery as to what he did for a living, and how he spent his time when he wasn't with her, at first made her curious; he wouldn't even tell her where he lived. No matter how much she tried to find out about his life, he always cleverly evaded answering her questions. That he might be engaged in some shady dealings occurred to her, especially when she remembered considerate and nice, at least when he was with her, to do anything outside the law. She was still innocent enough to believe that any sort of lawbreaker must be so abnormal, uncouth and tough, that he would be instantly recognizable to her as though he were wearing a sign saying "Danger - Criminal at Work." Finally, however, she decided that she didn't care what he did for a living, as long as he continued seeing her and making love to her.

At the advertising agency she worked hard and continued dating Bill from time to time. She liked being with him though she hadn't as yet slept with him.

One night she was asked to come back to the office after a quick dinner to work. By now she was doing some of the research and as the deadline for the launching of a new campaign was drawing near, almost everyone connected with it had been working overtime. As it grew late that night, however, everyone left, one by one, until finally she, Bill and Stanley, another copywriter, were left.

"I'm really fagged," Stanley yawned. "Let's close up shop for the night." He got up from his desk and stretched. "Come on, Bill. Let's push off."

"You go on, Stan, I just want to finish this piece." He was seated at his desk, busily writing.

"Do you want anything else, Bill?" Erin asked. "If not, I think I'll go. I've finished everything they wanted for tomorrow."

He looked up at her. She was sitting on a corner of his desk, swinging her legs. Her fingers were dirty with carbon, a smudge of ink was on her cheek, her skirt was a mass of wrinkles, but she still looked fresh and lovely. He smiled at her.

"Why don't you wait a minute and I'll drive you home. I'm practically ready to wind up this great piece of literature."

She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "Okay. I could do with a ride." She slipped off the desk and went toward the door. "I'll find something to read," she said.

"Well, goodnight, kids, I'm off. See you tomorrow," Stanley said and left, whistling.

Erin wandered through the offices, picked up a new Playboy from the waiting room and started back to Tom's office. On the way she passed that of Mr. Jackson, the president of the agency. She looked in, switched on the light, saw his big, leather covered chair behind his desk, walked over and sat down. She tilted back the chair and began to read.

"Well I see, we've got a new president," Bill said twenty minutes later. "I must say it's an improvement." He came into the room, carrying a pile of papers.

Erin laughed, put her feet up on the desk and said, "And what can I do for you, young man? Are you looking for a job? I'm afraid the only one we can offer only pays $170,000 a year."

"Won't do. Nothing less than $400,000."

He sat on the edge of the desk, laid down the papers and put his hand on her leg.

"On second thought, maybe I'll take that job. With you as boss maybe I can marry the boss instead of his daughter."

"What presumption, Sir," Erin said with mock horror. "Do you think I'd marry a mere underling?"

"In that case, I'll have to be the boss - and one of his privileges is kissing the hired help." Running his hand up her leg, he stood up and scooped her neatly into his arms. She gave a little shriek which turned into a giggle.

"And is this the new position for giving dictation, boss? Or haven't I even been promoted to being your secretary yet?" She wrapped her arms around his neck as he swung her back and forth.

"With you I'd like to promote a lot more."

"Such as?" she said.

He pretended to drop her and then catch her again; she clutched him more tightly around the neck. He swung her around and put her gently on the desk, then leaned over her as she lay on her back amidst the neatly piled papers, her hair spread out against the dark wood, her arms still around him. His face close to hers, he whispered, "Oh Erin, Erin, you