Learning the Hard Way
(M/F, oral, anal)

by Kysa Braswell
www.kysaonline.org

"It comes down to compatibility, and Edgar and I aren't." A dour expression brought a far away look to Alanis's eyes, as though she were focusing on something only she could see. The vested waiter standing over her with a tray in his hand asked if she'd like a refill on her burgundy, but she didn't hear him. The buxom brown-eyed woman beside her signaled the impatient man with a shoo of her hand, then returned her pensive gaze to her distraught friend who looked as though she'd been waging an emotional war against something she was too weak to conquer.

True, Alanis hadn't been her convivial self lately and, loving nothing better than a little friendly gossip, Linda had insisted Alanis enjoy the afternoon over a glass of burgundy wine at Henry's outdoor restaurant where leisure was king and more than one illicit affair had erupted hot and smoky from the tables sizzling with 'who's fucking who' in round-robin gossip. Besides, Linda would have felt selfish hoarding the attention from the parade of eligible businessmen strutting their stuff in Gucci shoes and pin-striped suits as they dotted the tables surrounding her, shooting salacious grins in the direction of the black-haired vixen whose amulets and rings caught the shimmering sunlight in penetrating streaks that made any man sit up straight and take notice. For Linda was more than a woman; she was a sexy witch with an aura of availability that no man, no matter how in love with his wife, could deny.

"I'm sorry, honey, now what were you saying?" Linda pulled her gaze from a table in the corner where last week's prey sat bored and rotting inside from his wife's dull company. Linda took vain delight in the power she weighed over men: but now she cut it short and repeated her question, this time nudging Alanis by the elbow to bring her back from her melancholic reverie that veiled her in a dark shawl of misery. "For God's sakes, Alanis, it can't be all that bad... I mean now can you get hung up on one man when there's an ocean of them right here at your feet?" She talked to her friend, then shot a warming smile at a man she'd been plotting to meet for the past week.

"I'm just tired... I didn't sleep a wink last night," Alanis started, taking another sip of her wine, embarrassed to discover the glass had been drained on the last weary gulp.

Linda rested her hand on Alanis's slender arm, her bracelets twinkling as if to say, 'nothing is worth the misery, honey.' "Listen, Alanis, I've known you since college and I know what your problem is... you're a martyr. God, look at all you've given up for that creep Edgar. And what has he given you in return? Sure, so you went to a couple of neat parties, but you didn't have a chance to get loose or meet any of the musicians he was snorting cocaine with. Right? You told me so yourself, Alanis."

Her friend shrugged. "Yes, that's what happened all right. I found out later he was in the lady's room smoking dope with one of those rock n' roll queenies." She closed her eyes and shook her head, then forced a pained smile that didn't last long. Her pixie face soured into a frozen grimace of faithless endurance as if she was waiting to be struck once more... to prove the misery she felt was real and deserved. The men around her noticed, too, and chose not to pursue interest in the petite looking woman whose China Doll sophistication contrasted so sharply with the sultry woman seated next to her. Sipping from her water glass, she bolstered her strength and continued. "That seems to be happening a lot lately. We go places together, rarely and I end up watching his camera case while he goes off flirting with every woman around. I feel like an old hag, and I'm not even married! Whoever said living with a man was bliss, was full of shit!" she blurted out of control.

"Come on. Don't waste your energy on him, Alanis. Quit being such a martyr and have another glass of wine with me. It's Friday. Time to celebrate and be happy." She waved to the waiter for a refill, then turned her attention back to Alanis. "How's Edgar's photography business going? Has he done any album covers lately?"

Alanis shook her head, her poodley blonde curls vibrating. "No, that doesn't seem to be happening. He's been spending all his time trying to get some things in men's magazines. Porno is where the money is at, so he says." Alanis drew a deep breath. "Okay, if you really want to know the dirt, Linda, here it is. He's been hanging out every night in those sleazy clubs down on Broadway trying to find nude models who'll pose for him. Sometimes he doesn't get home till four o'clock in the morning and when he does, he's drunk and nasty." With her finger, Alanis traced a carved heart on the marred table top, then half whispered. "I don't think I can stand it much longer, Linda, but I don't know what to do. I can't afford to move out, but living with him is hell!"

"Well, I've never met a photographer I've trusted yet, Alanis. They're all voyeurs for one thing, and for another they've all been afraid to admit to what they really want... and that includes what they want from women. They're fucked up, pure and simple. Just fucked up."

Alanis bit into her lower lip, trying to gain control. Anger was not her mode of expression, nor was pouting. She'd tried to play it straight with Edgar, promising not to date other men, even though they were only living together and not married, but enough was enough. "What bothers me most, Linda," she started with pained confidence in her voice, "is that he spends all of his time trying to make other women look sexy and feel sexy, but he does nothing for me. God, it's really hard to admit... I mean my ego has been nowhere for so long, that I was beginning to feel really . . ugly." She swallowed hard and moved her empty wine glass to the right of her stained napkin making room for the waiter to serve the next round.

"Go on..." said Linda delving in her handbag for her wallet, flashing her rings as she did so. Alanis caught a glimpse of the dime- sized turquoise ring sporting her best friend's middle finger and wondered where her unemployed friend had the money to buy it, but said nothing.

As Linda slapped a two dollar bill on the tray and pulled her chair back in closer to the table, Alanis resumed her scattered thoughts. "Oh, yes, as I was saying, he spends all his time making these other women appealing, and anytime I bring it up, he tells me I'm a nag and that I'm paranoid. Says he's just trying to make some money and then he goes on his tirade about how hard it is being a freelance photographer in this city..."

"That's all meaningless, Alanis. Take it from a woman who knows. There's only one way a man can prove his true affection for a woman... and that's in bed. You used to tell me how you two spend half your lives in bed together. Now if that's still the case, then don't worry about a thing..." she pried, her deep eyes studying Alanis's timid ones. "My philosophy has always been that as long as you get satisfied, it doesn't matter what else he'd doing... how many women he fucks in a day or sees naked."

Alanis drew another deep breath and calmed herself with a sip of wine. "Our love life used to be unparalleled. God, even Cleopatra didn't get laid as many times as I did in one day. We lost half our friends because we spent all of our time together in bed." Her shoulders drooped wearily. "Now, now I have to beg him for it!"

"Hit yourself again, lady! Are you masochistic or what?" wailed Linda incredulously, leaning over the table so that her richly browned breasts nearly tumbled out of the low cut rose-colored wrap-around tunic she wore. "Love is what keeps you young. Man, at the rate you're going, you'll be eighty before you're thirty! It's all so simple, honey. If he's not giving it to you, go out and get it from somebody else."

The blonde haired woman's eyes fell in dejection. "I can't do that, Linda. You know how I am. I've never been able to have an affair with another guy when I'm living with somebody. It's just not... not right somehow. I guess what I should do is wait and try to make it happen with Edgar again. And if it doesn't I think I'll take some yoga classes and meditate and learn to mellow out." But the ambivalent smile on her face said it was a lie. She didn't want to mellow out from anything as ethereal as Eastern religion. A good night in bed with Edgar would cure her ills.

"You're unbelievable, Alanis. Do you know that? You're a classic! For God sakes, listen to you! Avoid... avoid... avoid... you keep side-stepping the issue, and the issue is that you're horny and you want to get laid. Why make things so fucking complicated?" She slurped her wine, annoyed at the dribble that spotted her new tunic: she spit on her napkin and rubbed at the stain uncouthly, her friend watching with an amused smile on her face, despite her woes. Then Linda went on talking. "You're a healthy female with healthy desires, that's all, and if Edgar is going to get laid behind your back, then you have every right to do the same thing."

The pixie faced twenty-six-year-old stared at her friend in amazement. If only things were as simple for her as they were for Linda. Physical... that's how Linda interpreted everything... on the physical level. For her, Alanis, it was a different matter. Love affairs for her had always been long and deep, not flirtations or light-hearted as they were for Linda who went through them like pages of a calendar in rapid, even succession, with no cares for what happened yesterday. Today was the moment.

"You've got to be more independent and more aggressive with men, Alanis. I've seen this same thing happen to you in college with Russ, then with that idiot husband of yours who ran off with another woman, and now with Edgar... and all because you didn't get out when the going got tough. Men don't like women who are submissive and love him no matter what dirt he hands your way. Men want a woman who'll slap his fingers for doing wrong, because then they don't have to feel guilty about anything. You see," she leaned close again, her eyes clearly focused on the ravages of last weeks affair, the man who was now handing his wife a fist full of bills in bribery for an afternoon of peace. It dawned on Linda then, with a twinkle in her eyes, that Friday was pay day and that, she thought secretly, was good for business.

"You see," she started again, concentrating once more on her distraught friend, "men don't feel guilty when they're caught at it, because then it's justifiable: they can call you a nag and righteously so and the issue is not what they've done, but how you found out. Believe me, if there's anything I know about, it's men."

Her blonde friend readily agreed. "Yes, you do," she said with a snicker. "Men is your subject, Linda. Anybody in our dormitory would attest to that."

"Well, it's paid off, honey, let me tell you. Find the magic wand to a man's heart and there's nothing he won't do for you."

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," conceded Alanis, resting her pixie chin in the upturned palm of her hand. "Maybe if I'm really aggressive in bed it'll carry over and Edgar'll think of me as something other than somebody to wash his dirty socks and make him coffee in the morning," Linda licked her sultry lips, glossy with lipstick. "That's it. Be bold, make him love you."


Alanis and Edgar were sitting on the sofa, still dressed in their day- time clothes, a bottle of fine French wine on the end table. Alanis sighed as she pulled her boyfriend closer to her with a surprisingly strong motion that sent the two of them falling suddenly backwards. This was her answer to Linda's suggestion: she would be as sultry and vixenish as she could tonight, and if it didn't pay off, she would be forced to seek greener pastures. After a two year relationship, she'd diplomatically reasoned, she would give Edgar another chance at proving his love, and if it failed, then... well, she'd think about that tomorrow. Right now she had headier things on her mind.

"Wait," Alanis giggled, setting down her crystal wine glass. "Let me take off this pantsuit before it gets all wrinkled!" She was happy... at least they were going to make love, just as they used to. It had been far too long, almost two weeks, but she hadn't dared tell Linda that. As she struggled to get out of the jumpsuit, she could feel the flush of the wine she had had at Henry's and now the half empty bottle they'd consumed together. Her heart was pounding wildly and she felt a bit dizzy.

Edgar's kiss had raced through her like a thousand electric bolts, making her grow weak with desire. She could feel her nipples hardening as she tore off her French bra flinging it to the far side of the room. Alanis's full, round breasts quivered slightly as they were exposed to the cool air, and a delicious excitement started at the base of her spine, rising along her back to the smooth cream-like flesh at the nape of her neck.

At last she could prove Linda wrong! There was still love in her relationship with Edgar! He still thought of her as a desirable woman with a desirable body and a desirable mind. She was no old hag.

Edgar was lying quietly on the sofa waiting for her to finish getting undressed. It hadn't been easy tearing himself away from the nude shooting session tonight, but he knew if he didn't make his appearance at home, Alanis would be pissed, and with due cause.

Alanis could feel his eyes burning into her back as she shimmied out of her panties. Every detail of her sensuous nakedness was bared to his gaze, from her small pointed nipples to the mysterious triangle of her blonde pubic hair.

She wrapped her arms around her boy friend once more, feeling her nude body soft against the roughness of his clothes.

"Like me, darting? Am I still your woman?" she whispered into his ear.

"Mmmmmmm!" Edgar answered, thinking of how it would feel when his hard prick was ramming deep into her tight little pussy. It had been a while since he had held onto the ripe succulence of her breasts, and now he grasped them and squeezed their tenderness between his fingers.

"Softly, darling, softly like you used to..." she whispered.

But still he manipulated the large milk-white globes roughly, almost as though he wanted to tear them off, and Alanis squirmed beneath his caress, wishing he would stop and get on with the love making. In an effort to entice him further, she ran one hand along the inside of his leg, casually sliding over to his throbbing prick. Deftly, she manipulated the zipper, sliding it down rapidly and inserting her hand. She grasped and withdrew his already throbbing cock, with one simple motion.

"Oh, that's it, baby," he gasped, feeling her small hand grip his blood-filled cock with determination. His hands slipped from her breasts, down the lush contours of her torso, to her full hips. One finger found the soft blonde tendrils of pubic hair that nestled so cozily between her thighs and inserted itself between the soft pillows of flesh that protected her already excitedly oozing pussy.

"Ohhhh, darling," Alanis moaned out, tossing her head back on the bed. "Oh, God, it feels good!"

Edgar's middle finger was softly playing among the sensitive folds of smooth pink cunt flesh, smoothing up and down with an insistent motion. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he held her close to him, while his fingers began to manipulate the rising bud of her clitoris.

"Oh, Edgar, Edgar!" she moaned, "Darling!" Alanis's legs flayed out obscenely, giving her boy friend's hand more room, while her own hand pumped up and down on his rock hard cock.

The flat white plane of Alanis's belly trembled as his searching fingers exposed the slit of her open crotch, and her rib cage rose and fell against his heaving chest, her nipples becoming hard as little beach pebbles against the material of his shirt.

Then two fingers were pressing into the warm opening of her pussy, plunging up, up, up, past the hard ring of muscle that released its tightness to allow this intrusion.

"Aaaahhhh!" she cried out, screwing her hips up to meet his thickly probing fingers. Little helpless mewls of pleasure issued from her lips as her long voluptuously slim body writhed in the throes of ecstasy.

Edgar could wait no longer. He had had about eight glasses of wine that night, and true, they had quickened his lust, but they had not given him the patience to continue the foreplay that he knew Alanis craved. Ms large bulging cock throbbed painfully and tiny drops of fluid were exuding from its large throbbing head.

Pushing his pants down and off, he maneuvered himself so that Alanis was forced to cease her steady up and down pumping, and he was kneeling in between her widely spread legs, his rod throbbing impatiently before him. One hand moved slowly over the thick foreskin, pushing it up and then back over his hardness, while his other hand resumed its exploration of Alanis's hot, palpitating young pussy.

Boy, she's really going pretty good! he thought. Hasn't had any for a while, poor thing. This should hold her for a bit. The dull ache in his balls told him that he must push his cock into his girl friend's tight pussy before he blew his wad. He'd already waited too long. Abruptly, he removed his hand from her crotch, causing a small wet sucking noise as his fingers left the pliant hair-fringed opening.

Alanis's large globular tits jiggled above the expanse of her rib cage as her naked body offered itself up to him.

"Ohhhhh!" she jerked as she felt his hand sliding out of her pussy, "oh, Edgar, oohhhh!"

She felt the round head of his cock touching at the inflamed entrance to her cuntal slit, throbbing against the quivering length of the moist furrow of her cunt. Edgar moved his stone-hard cock up and down in the seething crack, up and down until on one down stroke it was poking into the small elastically stretching hole of her tight, hungry cunt.

It was so hard! Alanis had never felt her boy friend's prick so hard, it seemed. She had to have him inside her! She had been just about to cum before he removed his hand, and now her body demanded satisfaction, demanded that this thick rod be plunged into her to the hilt. She held onto her boy friend's buttocks and spreading her legs around his body, bending them obscenely around his back, she pulled herself up brusquely, forcing her boy friend's stiff cock to slide up into the soaking wet slit of her pussy.

At first it was slow going, impeded by the tightness of Alanis's cunt, but as the delicate tissues accustomed themselves to the bulk of his cock, the way was paved for him and Alanis squirmed the silken sheath of her pussy over his enormous member, swallowing it up to the tip of her womb. She thought she would burst with her love for him, her lust growing minute by minute. This was the way it was supposed to be between them. Only Edgar could give it to her. Whatever was wrong between them before would be made up for by this moment, this frantic, fleshy connection of their naked bodies.

"Oh... I love you... I love you..." she moaned, open mouthed, the tip of her tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat. She was thoroughly filled by the magnificent prick that fit so snugly in her belly and it gave her a wonderful feeling of completeness that she had sorely missed these past two weeks when her boy friend's interest in her seemed to have flagged. But that was all over now. From now on, it was going to be different. He was going to fuck into her, long even thrusts, burying the thick head of his cock harder and harder each time against her waiting cervix. She was going to cum again and again, and each time would be better. They would make love fat into the night!

He was deep... so deep inside her that she felt almost nailed down to the sofa, pinned in this lewd submissive position by the giant, fleshy stake of man she loved.

The blonde curls of her pubic hair twisted in tiny tangles around the base of Edgar's cock. He held her like that for a long moment, savoring the power that he felt, enjoying the beautiful whimpering woman who was his woman, his to do with as he pleased. She was a pretty good lay, too.

He made a mental note to fuck her more often in the future. Didn't want her to start looking for it elsewhere. He could feel his balls dangling in the upturned crevice of her ass, and a surging tingle swept through him.

"Nnnnngggg..." he groaned, his cock bucking inside the tightly clasping passage of Alanis's pussy, his semen spurting from deep inside his balls, spewing forth in sporadic jerks between the milkily contracting muscles of her cunt, splashing against the sensitive surface of her cervix.

"Ooooohh... yeaaaa!" he cried out as the overwhelming sensations of orgasms traversed his thick cock and sent chills of delight throughout his entire body.

He collapsed heavily on her, expelling one last heavy sigh, relieved to have released the heavy load of his semen. He could feel Alanis's softness beneath his body. She was warm and smooth. Her perfume wafted Lip to his nostrils as he buried her head in her neck.

"Mmmmm..." she sighed. And then he was silent.

Alanis lay stunned underneath his dead weight. She had hardly time to realize that it was over! Part of her was still climbing to the erotic heights she had so recently foreseen, but the rapidly deflating cock inside her was little solace to her expectations. Edgar's breath was coming smoothly and evenly now, hot on her neck and her legs were cramped, still forced wide apart by his impaling hips.

"Oh, damn!" she thought... "Oh... no."

She could almost taste the bitterness of her frustration. Anger rose in her breast as tears of self-pity began to form in her large violet eyes. And with Edgar's first snore, the tears brimmed over and developed into deep sobs. She had had such high hopes for tonight, had so desperately wanted love between she and Edgar as it used to: all consuming and magical. She knew it would be at least another week before they would make love again. Edgar had been so busy trying to make money during the week, she had stopped her vain attempts at seduction, saving them for the weekends... when he was home.

Last week he'd spent nearly every night down on the Broadway strip where women flaunted their half-naked bodies behind glass doors of strip shows and massage parlors to hopeful customers. That had been painful enough. But now this! He'd come home every night drunk and incoherent. And now this! It was worse than not making love at all, because at least then she still had hope.

Angrily she attempted to push him over, squirming out from underneath him.

He was halfway off when he roused slightly.

"Ah... come on, Alanis. Let me sleep... it's been a hard." he mumbled in a barely audible whisper.

Alanis froze. Then scrambling the rest of the way out from under his sprawling body, she stood beside the bed, staring down at him in disgust.

She shook with frustration and clutched her arms around herself in horror, her naked body beginning to feel the cold of the night air. A raucous sob escaped from her throat and she turned and ran into the bathroom, where she splashed her face with cold water.

Later, with her pet cat, Ralph, to keep her company, she watched the late night show for the second night that week, the fatigue that deflated her body having mysteriously transformed into a throbbing energy of anger and fear of what was happening to her two year relationship with Edgar.


Sam Lewis slipped the cab driver a dollar bill for the tip and got out in front of Edgar's apartment building. He padded his stuffed back pocket to make certain the bag of marijuana hadn't fallen out in the taxi.

Mmmm, looks like Edgar's got himself a nice little crib here. If the porno business is what's making him his bread, then I'm gonna ask for another 10%. Shit, I'm the one who has to do all the work, fucking and sucking those sleazy ass chicks. All he's gotta do is snap a shudder...

Sam only hoped that Edgar would be home for his interview. He'd said he had to make a couple more contacts in setting up the stage before they would start shooting.

He rang the bell and waited, tapping his platform shoe on the 'welcome' mat as the moments slipped by and still there was no answer.

"Come on, get with it, Edgar... I haven't got all day, man!" He pressed the buzzer again, and almost before he had removed his finger from the button, the door opened and Alanis peeked out. She had just gotten up, and was still wearing her nightgown. She had thrown a flimsy negligee over the top of it in her haste to get to the door.

"Morning, miss," Sam said, tipping his Panama hat and smiling his most charming smile. His dark Puerto Rican eyes penetrated deep into Alanis's sleepy blue ones. She blinked at him, wondering if this was another one of her boy friend's kinky friends who came to see about 'business.'

What did he want anyway? She had hardly slept at all last night and had finally managed to fall off to sleep after Edgar had gone off to finish setting up the 'set' to start shooting his porno flick. She and Edgar had had their share of fights, about it, too. If it wasn't about the money he was fronting on speculation to shoot this movie, it was about the sleazy models he was hiring. One thing or the other. And he'd called her a suspicious nag, saying she had no right to tell him what to do. After all, they weren't married, were they?

All these things were still running through her mind as she looked questioningly at Sam Lewis standing at her front door, his platform shoes raising his lanky frame off the floor an extra six inches, his black leather cape and Panama hat making him look like he was a few months too early for Halloween. His appearance was so strikingly bizarre that she completely forgot that the exact contours of her slender body were completely visible beneath her negligee which seemed to accent her large round breasts, her tiny waist and full womanly hips, rather than hiding them.

None of this was ignored by Sam who pushed his hat back on his head and restrained himself from giving a low whistle. Edgar's old lady was a real looker! He could not take his gaze away from Alanis's revealing cleavage as he finally explained.

"I'm here to see your ol' man. Supposed to do some work for him on the set."

"Oh!" Alanis said wearily. "Yes... well, he's not here right now, but if he's expecting you, I'm sure he'll either be calling or coming home to meet you. Edgar had mentioned someone coming over, but he had slammed out of the house too soon to leave any message.

"Edgar's at the set, huh?" he asked.

"That's what I said." she answered stone-faced. She looked at Sam for the first time and realized that despite his weird taste in clothing, he was a very fine looking man with high cheek bones, an even chocolate brown complexion, and deep-set liquid eyes.

Sam mistook her frank gaze for something else, and made up his mind that there was no two ways about it, the lady had to be as much of a swinger as her boy friend, Edgar.

"Mind if I have a seat?" Sam asked, appraising Alanis's beautiful long legs and well rounded thighs.

"Oh, no, sorry for not offering. Go right ahead while I get dressed." She turned and started for the bedroom. "If you want coffee, it's in the fridge."

"That's not all I'd like..." Sam murmured and Alanis turned to face him.

"What did you say?" she asked thinking he certainly was acting strangely. Then it occurred to her for the first time that she was parading around almost naked in front of this total stranger. What must he think of her?

Her face red with humiliation, she closed the bedroom door. "Good grief, am I going crazy?" Glancing at the full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door, she could see what Sam Lewis had seen. The outline of her nipples showed clearly through the two layers of gauzy material and she could just make out the triangular shadow of her pubic mound.

She ripped off the flimsy garments and then went to the closet to pick something more appropriate from the racks. She wanted to be as covered as possible when she finally faced him again. Now that she thought of it, he bad stared at her rather hungrily, but it wasn't all his fault, she thought with an admission of honesty.

She pulled a fresh pair of Levies from the hanger and a sweater from the top drawer of her bureau, thinking that she might repair the irredeemable first impression she'd inadvertently created for her boy friend's model. She slipped on the sweater, but it only accented her large, firm breasts which protruded in soft, smooth fleshy curves beneath the woolen knit. When she descended the stairs, she hoped to find the young man gone, but she could see by peering into the living room from the crack in her bedroom door that he was still sitting on the sofa. She slipped into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice and stared out the window thinking what a mess her life was! Wasn't there a simple way of carrying on a relationship and have it mean something? What made it all so complicated? Wasn't love enough?

She was still sitting there when Sam appeared in the doorway. His limber frame lounged casually against the door jam, his black leather cape shrouding his shoulders like some out-of-time Victorian character from a horror show. He held a joint in one hand.

"Hope you don't mind me smoking dope in your house," he asked, grinning pleasantly.

Alanis stood up. "Now wait a minute, I find it a bit presumptuous on your part..."

Sam shrugged. "Your ol' man smokes it, so I sure as hell thought you would too. Ain't nothin' wrong with it. Here, have a hit and let's get it on... your ol' man doesn't have to know," he said syrupy.

He sauntered toward Alanis, deciding that she was the type who probably had to be pushed. Well, he'd played that game before. Alanis's fruit juice spilled to the floor as Sam grabbed her up and pressed her soft, yielding body against his chest, thrusting his tongue deep inside her mouth with a smooth even motion, as though he had thoroughly choreographed every move.

His tongue searched way back, deep into Alanis's throat, probing at the sides of her teeth, his mouth sucking at her tongue with a loud wet noise.

Alanis struggled fiercely, straining every way to get loose, hysteria rising like mercury in her veins. But Sam's arms were strong, stronger than any that had ever held her, and she was helplessly caught in his arms. Her screams were stifled in her throat by the persistent tongue that invaded her wide-open mouth, and her attempts at scratching him were confined to the tough material of his leather cape.

Crazy thoughts ran through Alanis's mind. All the horror stones of men posing as friend's of husbands coming to doors and raping the women. She had always thought that if anything like that were to happen to her that she would be able to fight back, but now she knew the utter futility of struggling against a force superior to her own.

A drugged maniac! So this was the kind of people Edgar was hanging out with! Her eyes bulged wide with terror as the stolen kiss continued. With alarm, she felt a thick hard rod begin to press against her belly. He was beginning to get an enormous erection! Good Lord! Could all of that be him? Her imagination heightened by fear made the thick cock that pressed against her struggling belly into a battering ram that would soon shatter her to bits.

Sam held on and began to walk Alanis backwards into the living room. He had known them to struggle, but this one was really fierce. It occurred to him that it was possible that she really didn't want him to continue, but then he retraced all the events that preceded this embattled embrace and concluded that she was about due to cease her struggling any moment... as soon as he had gotten to what he often referred to 'as the moment of no return.'

He could feel the mounds of Alanis's breasts cushioned against him, making two large warm spots on his hard chest.

Man oh, man! She has a build on her that won't quit! What the hell is Edgar doin' with those dumb chicks when he's got a lady like this tucked away at home?

He carried her along with him over to the living room sofa and managed to get the two of them down on it, though she kept grabbing at his cape trying to wrap it around his head to keep his tongue out of her mouth. One hard thigh pressed between her legs, separating them and making it impossible for her to move one way or the other. He would have to work fast before Edgar came home.

Shit! She had to go and put on those Levies! Sam's hand fumbled about searching for the secret of getting them off, and found that the top snap was already open. His hand slipped easily beneath the waistband of her Levies and the zipper cooperated with the pressure of his hand, opening up her belly to his caressing touch. Just below, the smaller elastic of her nylon panties began, and his fingers raced to explore beneath it. Her skin was smooth as satin as his hot nervous hand shoved beneath her twisting hips, but he swiftly cupped one forbidden buttock, kneading it, pinching it, enjoying its secrecy to the fullest degree.

"Nice little ass you got, honey!"

As Sam's mouth left Alanis's, she let out a piercing scream.

"Please... please let me go! Let me go! I'll tell Edgar!" She tried to bite Sam's lips, but he drew his head back quickly and clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Hey, you're acting like you weren't asking for this... coming to the door half naked. Come off it, sweetheart. You're horny and you know it, so why not quit fighting and take it with a grin!"

His hard cock throbbed against the wide split between Alanis's legs, and he considered just ripping her Levies and plugging it into her pussy without any foreplay. Her struggling and yelling had only served to excite him more, and now it was important to him to get this conquest over with.

Alanis heard his words with a sinking sense of doom. He actually thought that she wanted this! How could she have gotten herself into this mess?

Sam removed his hand from her mouth to see if she would stop screaming and start kissing, but Alanis could only implore of her boy friend's model. "Listen, I know it was my mistake coming to the door dressed like that, but I didn't realize. And I've never gone out with any other man except for Edgar while we've been living together."

Sam was half listening... his hands preoccupied him... sliding beneath Alanis's sweater, invading the filled cups of her well filled bra, holding the warm trembling orbs, jiggling them in his hands as though he were weighing them. Then he twisted at the nipples with a sudden piercing motion.

"Ooooh, please," Alanis cried out in pain, and it sounded so genuine to Sam that it made him stop and take another look at her. Her recent words floated through his mind like a taped replay.

God, she's not kidding. Well, I'll be damned if I'm gonna rape her. I've never had to beg for it, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna start now. He released his hold on her breasts and, panting, he sat up, adjusting his cape that had swiveled around backwards in the foray. His cock felt like a shaft of rock granite stuffed inside his pants.

"Baby," he spat the word out into her face. "You're one hell of a cock tease. I don't blame Edgar one fucking bit!"

"No, no!" Alanis cried pulling her slacks up and scrambled for the bedroom. "No! It's not true, and I do love Edgar!" She ran from the bedroom, certain that he would follow. She tripped over the long legs of her Levies twice as tears blurred her vision. Alanis slammed the door behind and locked it. Her breath came heavily, uneven sobs racked her body as she stood listening at the door for Sam's footsteps.

She had always told Edgar they should have an extension phone in the bedroom. If she had one, she would call the police now and have this stranger arrested. But what would she say to the police? That she'd been raped? That wasn't exactly true and, knowing the hell the police usually put rape victims through, she couldn't have stood the strain anyway. The whole thing was her fault.

Alanis could feel her knees shaking so badly that she had to let herself down to the floor near the bed. Silently, she rested her head to the rumpled bed coverlet and listened for the footsteps that never came.

After a short time, the slam of the apartment door reached her buzzing ears, and then there was the sound of heavy-soled shoes on the cement outside of the apartment building. She ran to the window to see the black leather cloak billowing in the wind, the dapper Puerto Rican whistling to himself casually as he hailed a cab.

Alanis slowly walked over to the bed. She stood dazed and trembling beside it for a moment, and then she began to remove the sweater and slacks that had seemed so protecting such a short time ago. They felt soiled and ugly now, cheap and dirty, just as she felt. She threw them in the corner, knowing she would never wear them again.

Alanis stepped out of her panties and undid her bra, letting both fall to the carpeted floor. Then she climbed naked into the bed that was still rumpled and unmade from the morning.

The cool sheets pulled up over her naked body felt soothing and somehow kind to her overheated body. She knew that she was feverish, the heat from her face in the soft feather pillow trying to blot out the memory of all that had just happened, but it kept happening over and over again in her mind. Every clear and lurid detail. Each insult louder than before. The whole thing was impossible... impossibly insane! And yet so many things were changing. Things she never thought would happen to her were happening all around her now: the conversation with Linda, the way she'd tried to seduce Edgar, and now this! She felt vulnerable and open to forces she had never wanted any part of. But now those same forces were guiding her.

Alanis's entire body trembled between the sheets and a kind of prickly sensation played back and forth along her voluptuous curves. The thought of what might have happened caused her to jerk spasmodically. That monster, with the enormous penis... was going to... actually...

Her hand went down between her thighs to the quivering slit of her cunt as though to protect herself from the now imaginary invasion. But when she touched herself she was surprised to find that she was soaking wet and that her fingers caused a wild tingling sensation that pierced her belly with a stab of acute pleasure.

"Aaaahhhh..." she sighed softly, and somewhere in her head, a voice said, "take your hand away, you naughty girl! What are you doing? That isn't nice!" It was her mother's voice. Her mother's voice talking to her when she was a little girl. "Such a dirty thing to do!"

As the voice continued, her fingers moved lightly over the sensitive slippery folds, creating tiny tracing lines of lust wherever they went. It was rising and rising... overtaking her lovely sensual nakedness with its demand for fulfillment. It swirled in her belly and up along the spongy tissue of her breasts to the stiff hard nipples. Her other hand reached to twist the aching nipples.

"Aaaahhhh..." she sighed again. They had been waiting for that. All of them seemed to have been waiting for these touches. Her hands moved blindly now, quickening their licentious probings as Alanis began to twist her body and to rise and lift herself on the bed, raising her hips to the lust-maddened attack of her own hands.

"Oh God!" she murmured. "Oh God, no!" Her lithe young shape turned, tortured by the teasing of her fingers. Passion became an all consuming flame and she was its willing fuel.

"Ah... aaahhhh... AAAHHHHH!" she cried out as her finger slipped into the pink wet opening of her pussy.

She wanted this, she knew... wanted this badly... wanted these fingers to be a huge penis, rigid, shoving hard into the trembling opening, pushing against the wetly sucking walls of her cunt, throbbing deep up inside her. Hard! HARD!

Alanis's fingers rammed into the burning cavern between her open thighs, her entire body bent into an obscene shape by her mounting desire. She sighed and cried out, groaning her pleasure. It was ecstasy, this big make-believe cock rising so high inside her, while her body and twitching hips rose to the ever increasing rhythm.

"Oh... oh... yes, yes... YES!" And it was Sam's lust- hardened cock fucking into her mercilessly, his massive prick teasing, hurting, smashing. She had to get him into her deeper... deeper.

"I can't stand it! I can't stand it!" she cried out. Oh, it was good! Back and forth! Back and forth! In and out! In and out! She bucked harder, her long, smoothly tapered legs moving lewdly back and forth, up and out on the bed. Her face was twisted by the strain of her solitary actions into a mask of sex-crazed pleasure.

Her fingers strained to accommodate the clenching hair-lined pussy that was over-flowing with her own love juices. On and on she finger- fucked herself furiously while a tiny stream of uncontrollable saliva slid from the comer of her mouth.

"Ohhhhh, Edgar... oh, baby... please fuck me!"


Alanis lay in a semi-stupor for some time after her wild, self-induced orgasm and then slowly her fingers found their way once more to the still gently twitching lips of her open cunt. Three more times she uncontrollably vented her lust, attacking her own tortured body and lust- gaping cunt with renewed vigor until finally she lay spent and gasping, her legs wide-spread on the bed, a lewd twisted grin of satiation upon her lips.

She drifted off and slept the sleep of the shameful dead until evening when the sound of a police siren awoke her. She jumped out of bed, not knowing what time of day it was, or what day it was. What was she doing naked? She never slept without a nightgown on. And where was Edgar? It was when she saw her clothes heaped in the corner that it came back to her... everything.

Quickly, as if the devil was after her, she unlocked the bedroom door and stumbled into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. The blonde haired woman sat in silent fear, her robe wrapped around her naked body, and her fingers, still swollen from her lust, clinging to the steaming coffee cup as if it were the last vestige of decency in her existence. She thought of turning on the stereo to listen to some Gordon Lightfoot or maybe some light jazz would help heighten her doomed mood, but it seemed too intrusive somehow... as if she didn't deserve the reprieve the music would lend. No, she'd have to suffer it out, for that's what she deserved, wasn't it?

Edgar... why did Edgar have to vanquish the few hopes she had left for cementing their too-long neglected relationship? Why, oh God why did he have to fall asleep on her without making her feel loved? Was it too much to ask? Was there something she'd failed to do?

Oh, Edgar I need you, baby. Oh God, I need you more than ever before. Please, please come home, she silently implored, her eyes closed to the glaring light accusingly blinding her sleep-puffy eyes.

Alanis had no idea of how long she'd sat there staring at the happy yellow walls of her kitchen, her mood darkening. At ten-thirty she realized she couldn't wait any longer for Edgar to come home. If he wasn't home in fifteen minutes, that meant he'd probably spend the night at the studio he'd rented and called home since the inception of his 'make money fast' scheme that had caused the chasm in their relationship.

She had to see him, soon; had to be held in his strong arms, told that everything was going to be okay, or she would loose her mind. A dribble of coffee spilled onto the table cloth and in that crazy moment she realized the meaning of insanity. Though she'd always considered herself to be a relatively sane, rational individual, she had the 'acid flash' of paranoia. If she didn't have relief from the desperate loneliness she felt, she would go stark raving mad.

Yes, it was insane, stupid, and maybe even self-destructive, but she would drive to the studio and find Edgar, beg him to come home with her and hold her in his arms and make everything okay again. Only Edgar could do that.


"Phew. I'm glad that set is over!"

Edgar turned off the flood lights and turned to face his nude model Samantha, who was wiping her forehead, beaded with perspiration from the torturously hot lights, and slipping on an embroidered Japanese tea gown.

"Hey, don't put that on yet, honey. The night's not over with yet."

For a second he regretted that inviting statement, knowing he should call home if not make it home before Alanis got suspicious enough to come checking up on him. But she wouldn't do that, he reasoned, dismissing the thought as a wave of guilty paranoia. But his job as photographer and director of this bombasting money-maker had a few fringe benefits, despite the backaches, and he intended Samantha to be one of them.

He glanced over the top of the camera at her, relieved that the shooting had gone well and a session such as the one he'd just filmed saved a couple hundred dollars worth of money out of his own pocket. That was truly cause for celebration, wasn't it?

Edgar pulled the plug of the extension cord from its complexity of wires and switches and ambled over to his female model who was tying the cord on her robe, as with one deftly practiced motion, born of three years of strip-tease dancing, she flung her buttocks-length wavy hair free of the collar.

"Hope you don't have to be home in bed too early tonight, Samantha," smirked Edgar. "We might want to rehearse some scenes for tomorrow's shooting," he whispered hoarsely into her shell-like ear, weighed taut with the burden of her two-inch earring.

Samantha's long red nails teased a claw mark on his five-o'clock shadow. "It could be arranged, honey, and I won't even tell the union about the overtime."

Shelly, the male counterpart in "The Torturous Minutes of Lust" shot a knowing smirk in the direction of the playful photographer and his red-haired model. They caught his cold accusing eye. Shelly shook a warning finger at them and slipped his trench coat on. "Have a good time," he called over his shoulder before laughing his way out the door.


Despite the recent wave of warm spring weather, the night was cold with high westerly winds, the kind of weather that brings in fog from the ocean in billowing blankets. It crawls over coastal cities, disfiguring buildings and landscapes, and the moods of the people who try to see clear through it. Such was the night when Alanis crawled behind the wheel of her Volkswagen and headed for downtown San Francisco, toward the Mission District where warehouses and industrial plants leave the streets deserted at night, except for an occasional night guard and his Doberman Pinscher body guard.

She knew it was crazy to drive down there at that awesome hour, yet she was convinced that she was doing the right thing. The only thing to do under the circumstances was to go and see Edgar, go out to dinner, and talk to him. She had to see him, otherwise nothing would make sense at all. He was the last stronghold of reality in a world that had suddenly gone crazy.

It was a good twenty minutes drive from Nob Hill to the Mission District, and a glance at her watch told her that she should make it in time before they all left the studio. The last thing in the world she wanted was to be stuck down there in the complex warren of darkly shadowed buildings with no sense of direction.

She could visualize how surprised he would be to see her. The denim jumpsuit she was wearing was one of his favorite outfits and, even though she'd worn it only yesterday, he never tired of it. And, despite her tear-stained face, she'd managed to make herself look pretty good.

As she drove, she pushed the memory of Sam Lewis and of Linda's lewd suggestion deep into the back of her mind. The fresh air blowing through the window helped her to forget and to think optimistically about the future. It was beginning to look as if her interpretation of everything that had happened was only an exaggeration. Certainly nothing could be as bad as she'd thought. A half an hour later, Alanis pulled up to the intersection of Mission and 16th Streets, and she looked around for signs of Edgar's VW van. After driving around the block three times, she finally found it parked in a yellow zone. She parked her car behind his van, hoping she wouldn't get a ticket. She was just rolling up the window and locking the doors when a black man dressed in a security guard's uniform, a brace of dogs at his side, called out to her, wanting to know where she was going. As he walked closer, the guard glanced at her and then took a second look. Alanis was pleased. She needed a little reassurance and the guard obviously thought she looked good.

"Oh, I'm going to meet my boy friend. He's rented a place down here to do some shooting... pictures, that is," she added with a nervous giggle. "And I've come to meet him."

"What's the address?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, it's Mission - 2299 Mission. Can you help me find it?" It was said not out of flirtation, and the man complied out of more than sympathy.

"You're a pretty brave girl running around these streets at night." One of the Doberman's gave a conceding yap. Alanis kept a safe three foot distance between her nippable legs and the dogs. As they made the corner, the hopeful blonde walked with her head just a touch higher as she turned away from the man, the building now in sight. She knew his eyes were on her, watching the sway of her hips as she made her way to the side entrance of the warehouse.

"Should be an elevator inside, lady. Want me to wait?"

"Oh, that's okay," assured Alanis. "I'm sure that something happens, you'll hear a scream. Besides, Edgar is expecting me," she lied.

"Please... this isn't my territory, and somebody'll have my ass if they catch me off the block, but please, I can't let a pretty lady like you go into this building alone... just as far as the elevator." His dark eyes twinkled with fatherly concern.

"Okay, thank you, thank you," Alanis was delighted. The guard opened the old-fashioned gate and pressed the button for her. She waved through the webbed-glass window at him, exuberant that in minutes she would be with Edgar. There was apprehension, too, for she'd never been involved in his work to the degree of feeling comfortable around his models, especially the nude ones, and for an ominous moment, she felt as if she were prying into his private life.

Alanis got off at the third floor and pushed open the creaking iron gate of the elevator and stepped out into a long hallway with several closed doors lining the walls. Tip-toeing down the hallway, she peered at the doors that had no numbers, now totally confused and wishing that she'd let the guard help her find her way. At the L in the hallway, She craned her neck to the side, waiting to hear a whisper or music, anything to tell her people were still in the building: certain she'd detected a faint giggle behind the door directly to her left, she stopped and felt her body collide into something hard and yielding.

"Ohhh," Alanis sucked in her breath and looked startle eyed into the face of Shelly. "My God, you scared me."

"To say nothing of what you did to me," answered the suave actor, a salacious smirk on his face. "Can I help you... are you looking for someone?"

Alanis let her upheld fingers drop from her mouth and answered, "Yes, I'm looking for Edgar. Do you know where I might find him?"

"Edgar... sure, I know Edgar. He's back there," he returned with a half-laugh that set Alanis on edge. "Just go to the door at the end and walk right in. It's not locked. There's a waiting room that doubles as a dressing area. Just have a seat and Edgar will be right with you," he sadistically added in retribution for Edgar stepping on his territory with Samantha tonight. "It might be a while, but he'll find you."

Alanis thanked her benefactor and confidently strolled down the hallway to the door and opening it, slipped in unheard and made herself comfortable in the dressing room where a sofa and easy chair were the only furniture. And those were tattered.

An unexpected chill coursed down her spine as she sat cross-legged on the sofa, her purse at her side; she stared at the sequined bikinis hanging from crude hooks on the walls, the feather headresses and see- through nighties, and tried to imagine herself feeling at case in such a seductive costume. Alanis couldn't. A cautious afterthought piqued her confidence; maybe she shouldn't have come here. Maybe this was too private a place to talk to Edgar. But she was here now, and no way was she going to walk back to her car unattended.

She picked up a magazine, last week's Time and read an article on how Pornography was sweeping the country from the West coast to the East, and that soothed her abhorrence of Edgar's involvement in it. If everybody was doing it for money, she reasoned after scanning the article, then certainly he could, too. Perhaps she had been too clutching with him. A nag?

When the article was read and the magazine thrown carelessly to the floor, Alanis glanced at her watch and then at the door that separated the dressing room from the shooting area. At first she thought her eyes were tired from reading without her glasses, but she soon recognized it as fatigue. Yes, it had been a rather grueling day, hadn't it?

Where was Edgar anyway? she thought as she stretched out on the sofa and, substituting her marshmallow soft handbag for a pillow, found it welcomingly comfortable. Alanis just couldn't stay awake any longer, so she turned over on her side, crossed her arms over her chest for warmth and let her eyes close. She tried to stay awake as long as she could, thinking Edgar would be coming through that door any second, but after a few minutes, she was sound asleep, dreaming of a happy reunion with her boy friend.


Behind that door Samantha and Edgar were giggling softly, talking over the day's shooting. Man, everything had gone well. Shelly got it up and kept it there, for a change... something that's not easy for any man with a line of lights beating down on his head and people directing him to 'move the right leg left and wrap his arm around her waist... now, lower... lower, so we can get a look at those tits of hers..." God, no, porno films were not so easily done. Now, all the equipment was unplugged and waiting for tomorrow's shoot.

They were lying on the bed now, the scene of today's shooting, still hot and damp with sweat and cum. Edgar cupped Samantha's soft undulating buttocks in his hands, pinching the soft flesh between his fingers.

"You are a hell of an actress, you know that?" he asked, getting up from the bed to grab the half-empty wine bottle from the floor near the ladder. She took the chance to make a dash for her cigarettes before they got too involved to want to move.

Bottle of wine in hand, he pulled the giggling Samantha over to the bed, collapsing heavily himself and then bringing the girt down onto his knees. His hand slipped quickly under her robe, rising rapidly to the soft nylon covered mound of pubic hair between her legs.

"Mmmmmmmmm!" he murmured into her ear. "You're gonna get it tonight. Flinging those ass cheeks in front of my face all day," he teased. "Or maybe you would rather I let Shelly have you for the night..."

"Oh, come on! Shelly's not such a hot lay. He's big, but he doesn't know how to use it." She pulled an extra-long cigarette from the pack and let it dangle from her lips, greasy with lipstick, waiting for a light. "Come on, light my cigarette. What do you think I am? Liberated?" She giggled, wiggling her hips so that her bottom came in contact with the hard upstanding head of Edgar's cock, barely contained by the stretched cotton of his Levies.

"Oh, Edgar... damn!"

"Yeah... like that?" His hand slipped under the leg band of her scanty rhinestone-studded panties and making wet, teasing contact with the soft red pussy that already started to moisten at his touch.

As he started a slow teasing rhythm in the narrow smooth fleshed slit, Edgar could feel the heat of the girl's thighs pressing tightly together against his hand and arm. The wet, sensitive flesh throbbed gently beneath his moving fingers, the softness of her pubic curls tickling sensuously against his flattened palm.

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned. "God, but you've got experienced

fingers! Sure you've been a photographer all your life?"

"Hey, baby. You want it just as bad as I do, don't you. Come on... I really turn you on, don't I?" Edgar breathed hoarsely.

A sigh was her only answer, but quiet: adequate. He could feel the tense cords in her thighs pressing nervously against his hand, indicating a hidden strength that he longed to experience wrapped hotly around his driving hips.

His other hand fumbled about At her breasts until he found their firm, full mounds being smashed suddenly against his face. God, she was crawling all over him! It was all he could do to keep his hand worming high up in her cunt as she began to moan and thrash.

"Oh, Edgar, Oh God, Edgar. Take me, fuck me! Quick!" She was alternately pulling at his clothes and at her own, and Edgar realized that he'd better act quick before they were both in rags.

"Okay, baby." he pulled his fingers away from the heat of Samantha's pussy, and gathering up his strength, laid her down on her back on the bed.

She squealed as he pulled off her rhinestone-studded bikinis and tossed them over the end of the bed.

"Oh, come on Edgar, don't tease me, okay? Fuck me, damnit, fuck me now!" she was saying. "NOW!"

Edgar looked at the sensitive throbbing vee of Samantha's cunt, the same hole he'd been staring and focusing in on every day for the past three. Man, but she knew how to spread it; it gave his cock a teasing jerk. Was he ever going to enjoy fucking her! He reached down and released his cock from his pants, letting it jump out before him. Its hard red tip glistened dully in the light of the room and large veins throbbed along the full length of its shaft. He was proud of it. Man, he'd seen a lot of male cocks lately since working on this film, and his stood up to them all!

"Get ready, Baby... Daddy's coming to get you!"

Edgar crushed down onto Samantha's pulsating body, small beads of sweat already forming on his brow from the surging excitement he felt. Samantha clutched Edgar tightly to her as though she were trying to squeeze the last bit of breath out of him. Edgar pushed his hand underneath her already churning buttocks and raising tier ass up so that her relaxed and waiting pussy was in direct line of fire for his cock. She seemed to be getting wetter and wetter as his cock parted the soft, tickling pubic hair and slipped lewdly between the folds of her trembling pussy.

Finally it found the tight aperture of her cunt pushing heavily against its temporary barricade. Samantha's behind began to screw itself up in a more and more desperate motion while she implored him with tiny grunts and groans to be quick.

"Aaaahhhhh..." she groaned as the bulk of Edgar's cock slithered into the sensitive depths between her burning thighs.

"Oh, God, you feel good!..." Edgar cried as he felt his cock strike bottom and Samantha's ass jerked up under him at the swift thudding impact. Her pelvis ground hard against his back, pulling him even further into the hot cavern between her legs.

The grasping mouth of her pussy wrapped snugly around his straining member, the strong vaginal muscles rippling along the hardness of it.

Edgar cursed under his breath from the sheer ache of it as his rigid cock was gently but firmly massaged by the velvet sheath of the red head's cunt. It felt so good that he knew he was going to have to have more of the sweet, fucking bitch. He ground deeply into the squirming pelvis that writhed beneath him, feeling her arching up to meet him as the bed squeaked in uneven rhythms to the movements of their lovemaking.


Alanis's deep sleep was punctuated by bad dreams. She was still exhausted from the nervous tension and even though the dreams were disturbing, she slept on for a while.

Edgar was making love to her... the way he used to, giving to her what she was giving to him. Yet, she wasn't naked. Instead she was wearing a see-through nightgown with rhinestones on the bodice and he was taking pictures of her as she teasingly stripped... then they were back on the bed again with Edgar thrusting his huge cock in and out of her stretched cunt as loud groans of lust filled the room. She could hear herself crying with pleasure and fear, as the big penis stretched her pussy wide, sinking far deeper into stretched pussy.

She found herself mouthing obscenities... words that were not part of her vocabulary.

"Your cock is wonderful! Your cock... aarrgg... fuck me... fuck me... make it hurt!"

Alanis tossed on the sofa, in the grips of a very sexual torment, until a loud piercing scream broke her dream to bits.

She woke suddenly, startled and frightened half out of her mind. At first, she didn't know where she was, but she remembered quickly enough and jumped off of the sofa. A light shone from under the door of the shooting room and through the door the wet flesh smacking against flesh sounds of lovemaking assaulted her ears.

"Yes, hurt me... harder... harder!"

Alanis rubbed her eyes and rose to her feet shakily and, edged toward the door separating her from something she was afraid to see. Gently, she pushed open the infamous door and squinted in the dim light.. There, bathed in the warm glow of the lamp was her boyfriend, ridiculously postured, humping over the flaming red head, thrusting his cock with tremendous force into the jiggling wide-spread slit of another woman's cunt. Her eyes rolling uncontrollably in her head as her legs alternately kicked out and clamped back upon Edgar's back.

"I'm cummming..." the woman coughed out. "I'm cumming!

The obscene words entered Alanis's ears like tiny explosive shock waves as the lewd sight greeted her unbelieving eyes.

"Yeah... oh, Baby... yeah!" Edgar replied half crazy with excitement. "Give it to me..." He grabbed Samantha's legs and spread them far out on either side of his plunging torso, cramping one of them into the bed. But neither of them was feeling any pain as the spasmodic twinges of orgasm rose up to envelope them.

A low scream formed deep in Samantha's throat as she felt the first convulsion overtaking her and Edgar groaned out his answer.

"Oh, sweet cunt... oh, sweet fucking cunt!"

An additional sound was added to the final gurgling of the frenzied couple on the bed as Alanis, without even realizing that she was uttering a sound, screamed twice, the blood-curdling sound pouring forth from her lips in a steady hysterical scream of absolute horror.


"No more... no more... I can't take any more..." The words kept resounding in Alanis's mind as she drove back home. Some red lights she mistook for green, and at the green ones she stopped, but Alanis paid little heed to the trivia of driving. Her boy friend had cheated on her . . that was important. Too sad to cry, her body ached for relief from the throbbing pain lodged in her throat, as if she needed to scream but couldn't, as in a bad dream where one is left helpless and easy prey. And easy prey she'd been for two years to a man she loved and sacrificed for.

The imprint of the two of them... her boy friend and that... that girl, entangled together on the bed... her own image standing at the door like a prying nun... Oh, God! What a fool I am! What a stupid fool!

She could still see Edgar's horrified face turning to look at her as she stood screaming in the doorway, watching him scramble up off the girl, his big cock dangling lewdly in front of him. She had turned and run out the door and there at the elevator, just as the gate was protectively sliding shut and the heavy door after it, she'd seen Edgar's transgressed face staring at her through the webbed glass. How long Edgar pounded on that elevator door, she didn't know. Still screaming and crying, she ran for her car. Now she felt nothing but a cold numbness in her body. Pain would have been easier, but the choice wasn't hers.

Pure instinct guided her back home, but once she arrived there, she knew that she could not bear to spend the night. She didn't know which would be worse, the possibility that Edgar might be there, or that he wouldn't come home.

With a loud stripping of the gears, she made an illegal U-turn on Hyde Street's cable car line, and headed for North Beach where she knew Linda would give her a spare blanket for the night. Anything would do... as long as she wasn't alone.

Linda answered the strident ringing of the doorbell as quickly as she could, despite the fact that she was in the middle of giving her late date an oil massage. When she opened the door she was expecting to see one of her boy friends, drunk and horny, but instead she hid the slight disappointment when she saw Alanis's weeping figure collapsed against her doorway.

"Alanis... for Godsakes. Now what?" She pulled her inside and sat her down in the living room. "Good God, what's... what's wrong?" Linda rubbed the excess oil on her terry cloth robe before stroking Alanis's hair back from her face. "What happened?"

Alanis haltingly began to tell the saga she had just been through, still unable to believe it herself.

Halfway through, with the guts of the story out, and the emotional epilogue yet to come, Linda excused herself and headed toward the back of the apartment to call to her date to come join them. His name was Zeke and he was the emotional sort. Maybe he could help get Alanis out of her blues with a little affection.

The three of them sat in the living room sipping wine, all attention on Alanis who kept repeating, "I should have known better... it had to happen sooner or later..."

Zeke and Linda watched as Alanis became more inebriated.

"Go ahead, Baby. It'll make you feel better," urged Zeke, who sat between the two females, wishing one of them would get back to the rubbing and forget the sad storytelling. Alanis felt somehow relieved by the stranger's soft voice and mannerisms.

"Here, have some more wine, Alanis...

Finally, Alanis collapsed against the edge of the sofa arm, so tired and drunk by this time that it didn't matter if it wasn't a bed... or home. Linda put a quilt over the girl and gently lifted her head to slip a pillow under her head so she wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

"Poor baby," she whispered to Zeke. "She's gotta loosen up and learn to live or she's gonna be miserable for the rest of her life."

Zeke pulled Linda close, his half-erection giving an ominous jerk. He cradled her head in his hands and, looking her in the eye, whispered, "You're just the woman to do that. And you know it.


"Alanis, honey, there are some things we're gonna have to talk about," said Linda setting a cup of steaming hot Italian roast coffee at her friend's side. For the second day in a row, Alanis had woken up hung over and depressed and, if she followed yesterday's pattern, she'd lay on the sofa all day and watch television. Any question would be answered in a brief monosyllable with no inflection. A picture of depression, if ever there was one.

"Huh?" Alanis raised her head reluctantly off the pillow and ran her fingers through her unbrushed hair.

"I said there are some things we're gonna have to talk 'about." Linda waited for Alanis to sit up, then sat down on the sofa beside her friend, lifting the quilt and warming her own legs with it. "Drink some coffee. It'll straighten out your head," she pointed to the steaming mug, refusing to dote further on the girl whom she'd been waiting on hand and foot for the past two days. It was time Alanis did something for herself, unless she wanted to remain an emotional invalid for the rest of her life.

"What is it?" Alanis winced at the first acrid sip of coffee, its acid scorching her inside that had known nothing but wine and a few morsels of food in the past torturous days of sorely needed emotional cleansing.

"It's you, Alanis. What's going to happen to you?"

Alanis shrugged recklessly and took another sip of coffee.. Again she ran her fingers through her unkempt hair, a blank expression on her face. Then her eyes narrowed, as though squeezing back the tears, and she concentrated on a loose thread on the sofa's arm, twisting it around her finger then, forming it a ball, she gritted her teeth and yanked it off. "I knew this was coming...

"What?"

"That you'd get tired of having me around," she muttered, barely audible.

Linda tutted and stroked Alanis's knee through the quilt. "Now that's not it at all, and you know it. God, how can you say that after we've been friends... roommates for awhile... as a matter of fact, since college? Man, you've got to get your head together, Alanis. That's what I'm concerned about. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want. Move in, if you wish. But it's that crazy head of yours that concerns me..." She playfully rapped her knuckles on Alanis's head.

Alanis gave a faint chuckle, the first expression in two days and lifted her head to stare into her friend's eyes to see the honesty and concern harbored there. "You've been really good to me, Linda. I don't know what I would have done...

"Hey, come on. Let's not play humble, okay?" She gave Alanis's hand a squeeze, startled to feel it cold and clammy. "We've got to get you back on your feet, girl." The sofa gave a teasing squeek as she pumped Alanis's hand up and down on the nubby fabric, hoping to bring some strength and life back into the frail figure of her long-time friend. "Tell you what... you get up, take a shower and get dressed. We'll go to a nice little Italian place I know of... ravioli's superb... and have lunch."

"Oh, that's sweet of you," Alanis managed. "But you know Edgar was paying for almost everything and I'm embarrassed to admit I have barely a cent to my name."

"On me... now think it over. I'm going to make myself presentable. God, it was five o'clock by the time Bill left last night," she yawned.


"She's right," Alanis thought, standing under the shower. "Why should I be so put down because one creep turned out to be a first class bastard?" She would get dressed, put on some make up and strut the streets as she used to do before Edgar destroyed her life.

While she was getting dressed in the bathroom, Linda came in. "Is it all right?" she asked, rapping on the door. Alanis opened it to find her friend staying there with her arms full of clothes. "I brought these in for you to try on. I've put on a couple of pounds..." she laughingly patted her bosom, "and most of them don't fit. Damned shame too. Paid a lot for those rags. Oh, and Alanis," she sat down on the edge of the tub. "Don't take me wrong, I'm not prying or anything, but take a couple of pointers from me, okay?" She reached up to tickle her friend under the chin. "North Beach is a special kind of place, you know. I mean there are a lot of men around and it's best to be seen alone. But you have to dress right... that means no bra, lots of make up... they're into the casual look around here," she laughed. "They all think they're 'arty,' but when it comes down to it, they want a real woman. Just strut your stuff and walk tall and I promise, you'll be out of your doldrums before you ever knew what hit you."

When Linda left, Alanis looked in the mirror once more for reassurance. With her make up on now, she saw a very womanly body facing her... her short curly blonde hair shone from the many brushings she'd given it, and her features were even and delicate. No, she was not a destroyed woman, she decided with a determined nod of her chin. She stepped into the dress Linda had given her. It was a perky summer sundress with buttons down the front and a bolero jacket to match. The bodice made her look like the 'after' photographs in a bust development ad, even without a bra. The creamy mounds of her breasts protruded several inches in front of her, cradled precariously by the cut of the dress.

"Oh, well," Alanis thought. "Why shouldn't I show my best features?" Another wave of anger shot through her, an anger that had been carefully rekindled by Linda each time it showed the least bit of flagging. Any time she felt sad over her faithful loyalty to Edgar, the memory of something Linda said would set her bristling.

Alanis buttoned up the bolero top, furious again that the man she had lived with for two years had mistreated her. Edgar, the man she had helped finance cameras, taken messages for, and played secretary for while he ran around... Oh God, there she went again... But she couldn't help wondering if he had been cheating on her all that time, too. Probably so, she decided, the thought twisting like a sharp knife in her stomach.

She emerged from the bathroom to see Linda coming out of her bedroom, hairbrush in hand. The sultry black-haired woman stopped in her tracks and gave a low wolf-call whistle. "Whow, you're a knock out, Alanis! Damn!" She watched carefully as Alanis walked ahead of her. Boy, if only that girl would set herself in the right direction, she could make a lot of money. Hell, she could share my business with me.

"Alanis, there's one thing I forgot to mention. I know you're hard up for money, is that right!"

Alanis turned in time to see Linda stroke a hairbrush through her wealth of thick wavy black hair. She nodded. "Yes, I am, and I feel really bad about that, too. But I'll sell my car to help you pay the rent... really I will. I don't expect for you to let me stay here for nothing."

"Now don't you go talking like that, Alanis," Linda was talking to Alanis's reflection iii the mirror. "I about to offer my help in finding you a gig... you know, something you can make some money at. Real money, not $3.50 an hour. We'll talk about it at lunch, okay?"

Excited, but a bit confused, Alanis gathered up her handbag and opened the door, Linda right behind her. Now for the first time in two days, Alanis walked into the sunlight. It felt good.


"Massage? So that's how you've been making your money?" Alanis poked at her salad, playing with a slice of tomato. After two days of fasting, her stomach couldn't hold much. She padded her abdomen, happy to feel the weight had shed in the right spots.

"Yes, massage... and don't stick up your nose at it because it's an age-old ritual. Man, people have been getting off on massage since...

"Since harems...

"Come on off it." Linda shot a weary wince at her friend, then wiped her mouth free of ravioli sauce. It was not out of habit for her to talk with her mouth full of food, so Alanis had to listen carefully. "...good for healing... relaxing and it brings people together... know what I mean?"

"That's what you do? You give people massages... for money?

Linda nodded. She'd just taken another healthy bite.

"You mean like those girls in massage parlors?"

Linda swallowed fast. "Not like that... don't make it sound like something cheap and dirty, Alanis. Man," she shook her head and tutted, "Edgar really kept you in the closet, didn't he?"

Alanis shrugged and poked at a half-eaten square of ravioli. "I'd never thought of it that way before."

"Well, think it over. It's good money and if you're coy about it, you don't have to ball the guy. Just rub his back and slap some oil on. Half of 'em fall asleep," she giggled, then picked up the check. "Come on, let's go. You're not hungry and you're only eating to keep me from feeling bad... I've got an appointment.

"And walk home alone. Here, take this money and go have a glass of wine somewhere... just get out there and meet people," she encouraged, stuffing a five dollar bill in her friend's clenched hand. "Go out there and do it!" Linda hissed in Alanis's ear.


His name was Don Sanderson, and Alanis had met him at the liquor store where she had gone to pick up a bottle of wine to take home to help while away the night before the movie of the evening came on. He'd said he was buying champagne and orange juice to celebrate his new apartment, and wouldn't she like to join him?

He wasn't too bad looking, in fact, he was very handsome with refined features and short, kinky hair like her own. He'd made a joke of it, and she'd like that.

Walking up the hills of North Beach's Telegraph Hill, Alanis couldn't help but muse that meeting men was going to be easier than she'd dared hope. The wine she'd had for lunch was just the thing for her nerves, just as Linda had said. Now this walk, being escorted by a good looking man like Don was lifting her spirits. She'd noticed that he'd stared at her low-cut dress with admiration, and although it made her blush, she was rather pleased.

On the way, Don had been discussing politics with her... of all things! Edgar wouldn't even deign to discuss anything that heavy with her, and she found it wonderful to have a man listening to her thoughts and ideas. She had never realized she had so many!

He ushered her to his apartment building and pointed, needlessly, to the breathtaking view of the Golden Gate bridge where a steam ship was coming through the four o'clock fog now. Although his apartment was literally without furniture, she felt comfortable sitting on the over-sized pillows. The gentlemen that he was, he brought her a glass of wine, and she learned that he was a waiter. Don told her about the aging of wine, the difference between French wines and American wines... things Edgar's beer tastes would find hard put to compete with. He'd traveled extensively, he told her, though that was as personal as he let the conversation become. Instead, he talked of luxury and day dreams. He flicked on the radio to a classical music station and appreciated Beethoven's Ninth Symphony was just the right words, toasting the conductor now and then with a glass of champagne.

The champagne bottle slowly lowered, and before she knew it, Don was holding her hand. Well, there wasn't really anything wrong in that, she told herself. She was having a better time than she'd had in ages. The ethereal music seemed to vibrate deep inside her making her feel warm and secure and beautiful. She only wished she hadn't drunk so much wine; perhaps, then, her mind would run more fluidly and match Don's witty refinement.

When the symphony had ended, Doll lay back on the floor, a broad smile on his face. Alanis tucked her knees tightly under her, hugging them to her chest, watching Don's pet bird flutter its wing in its bamboo cage. It, like everything else in the sparsely furnished apartment, had a degree of quality to it, reassuring Alanis that not all men were porno freak weirdoes like Edgar.

The clutch at her hand tightened, and he tried to pull down beside him on the floor. It was a move graciously executed, but taken off-guard by the bewildered Alanis. Certainly this man couldn't be making advances toward her after an hour's conversation. "I... I'd like a glass of water," she blurted out, suddenly pulling to her feet.

"Oh, let me get it for you..."

"No, that's okay. I'll get it." Hastily, she rose to her feet, pulled down her dress and strolled toward the kitchen, the cool floor warmed in square golden patches by the late afternoon sun felt good on her bare feet.

In the kitchen, she washed out her champagne glass and in turn filled it with water, the rushing of the faucet hiding any other sound in the apartment momentarily.

"Find what you wanted?" Don asked, standing close enough behind her for Alanis to smell his aftershave lotion. It pleased her. Don wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his tall, thin body.

For a second, Alanis was a little put off by his holding her so close. After all, she hardly knew him. But then, it felt so nice to float about in time to the soft operatic sounds wafting from the unfurnished living room that she let herself fit against him snugly. God, it felt good to be having fun and not be stuck in the house all the time, or at one of those stupid, silly music parties where Edgar always managed to find the cocaine and the loosest women around. 'Don't think about that," her inner voice told her. 'Don't think about Edgar.' Don tightened his hold on Alanis until both his arms were around her waist, pulling her body in toward his as their feet barely moved in time to the classical music.

But other parts of him were moving. He was slowly undulating his hips and thighs against her loins in time to the music and she was beginning to feel every ridge and inch of him pressing tightly against her. His penis expanded against the flatness of her belly, pushing as he rubbed and rubbed himself slowly up against her.

Alanis blushed and tried to pull to the side away from him, but it was impossible. And although it was disturbing, she remained flattened up against his rising member on one side, and the sink on the other, her glass of water sloshing over the sides.

She felt like a teenager... silly and giddy. There seemed no sense in questioning the fact that she was alone in an apartment with a man she hardly knew; after all, it was still afternoon.

"How's about another bottle of wine, Alanis," he whispered in her ear, kissing her on the neck in taunting nibbles. "I've got one very special bottle I've been saving for the right moment," he melliflously urged. "And this is the right moment, isn't it?"

"Ah, well..." giggled Alanis. "I guess the moment is what you make it.

"Hey, my kind of girl. All right!"

She didn't see any harm in staying for another bottle. Linda's apartment was not far... three, four blocks, maybe and she had a key. She would share this bottle of wine-her gourmet curiosity demanded-and then leave. She didn't want to go back and be alone again watching television. Her tormented thoughts about Edgar were gone for the first time and as long as the day continued, she knew that she would be free of sadness.

"As long as you don't get any wrong ideas," she added coyly as they turned and Don opened the top cabinet and reached in for the bottle of white burgundy that, true to his words, sported a sophisticated French label. Don looked at her,

"Oh, no, of course not!" he said laughing. "What did you take me for, the mad rapist of Telegraph Hill?"

Alanis stood with her back to Don as she rinsed out the wine glass. In etiquette befitting a waiter, Don opened the wine bottle, cloth over arm, and poured her a glass for tasting. "How is it, my lady? Would the lady care to keep the bottle?" he laughed, showing her the label. Alanis squinted at a 1963 label and smiled. Age had to mean something.

"Care to toast, gorgeous?" Don said, staring at Alanis's plush, rounded breasts.

Alanis giggled.

"Okay... to us!" She held up her glass and both of them toasted, then Don took her glass from her and, casually setting it on the kitchen table, he drew her close and ran his tongue over the nakedness of her half-exposed breasts. Alanis was not prepared for his forthright touch.

"Yum, yum, are you built, baby!" he said, leering into her face and running his hand over her breasts. He had expected no resistance and was totally surprised when she slapped him hard across the face.

Alanis suddenly felt cold sober. She was not going to let another misunderstanding take place like the one with Sam Lewis. She shuddered, a shiver of repulsion starting at her toes and running straight up her spine.

"Please!" she begged. "I like you and I had hoped we could see each other again, but I don't like to be man-handled like that!"

Don stood there stunned, a hand against his stinging cheeks. He didn't understand... unless this woman was frigid or something... maybe a lez. Hell, maybe she was into a little 'S and M' just to make it a little more exciting. Well, whichever it was, he'd gone through that with his ex-old lady and that was the reason he'd moved out to this bachelor apartment. He couldn't let a woman put him off like that twice.

"Come on, get off your high horse, will you'?" he said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Who do you think you are? It can happen to me once, but twice is downright insulting!" Alanis couldn't understand what he was talking about... maybe he was some kind of pervert! But she began to scratch and pull at him, trying to get away.

Then he backed off, his head hanging. "I'm... I lost my temper for a moment. But, to tell you the truth, I've just gone through one heart ache with a woman who turned up one night drunk with another woman and I came home to rind them in my bed... and damn it, since then... I've...

Alanis knew he wasn't lying. "I'm sorry for you," she said, rubbing his cheeks hoping the red mark went away before he looked at himself in the mirror. He might really hate her then! Resides, he hadn't deserved that kind of rebuke.

"What... do you say we go into the living room and lie down. I feel like lying down."

They did, only now Don took the foam rubber mattress that had doubled as a sofa and lay it down on the floor. Seconds later he was taking off his clothes.

Alanis shivered, deathly afraid to insult the man again after she'd slapped his face; next time he might not be so gentle.

"Lay down," he said simply, guiding her by the arm. Only one direction to go, Alanis did his bidding, daring not to budge, and her breath came shallowly.

Don looked down at the prostrate figure. His cock had been aching all day to open up those long luscious legs and get inside that little cunt and in a few minutes it would do just that.

Alanis knew intuitively what was going to happen. With a certainly that allowed for no alterations, she knew that this man was going to make love to her right then, on that foam rubber mattress. He would do gross and ugly things to her, almost as if in punishment for what had not happened with Sam Lewis. It was beyond her why Don hadn't slapped her back. God knows, she hadn't led him on, but she had drunk quite of lot of wine, she realized and then she had let aim hold her like that when he was obviously aroused. But still, it didn't make any sense at all... none of it made any sense, like why he'd want to make love to her if he was in love with another. Or was he? What had he said about his ex-girl friend? And why, after she'd slapped him, didn't he just hit her back and call it quits? Men... she'd never understand them.

She could hear him taking off his clothes, and still she found it hard to understand what was really going on. He was moving now, coming toward her.

She sucked in her breath as he undid the buttons on her dress, slowly and deliberately and then began to pull it off her shoulders, down over her hips and off her legs, leaving her naked but for her underthings. All the while Alanis remained unmoving. She could feel Don's eyes on her breasts and she squirmed as she felt her flimsy nylon panties being pulled down over the soft roundness of her buttocks and thighs. He was surprisingly gentle about it and this terrified her even more as she cringed tightly down into the mattress.

At first she refused to look at him. In front of this complete stranger's eyes, she felt more ashamed than she had ever been, more naked than she had ever thought possible. If she complied with his wishes, she thought, it would all be over sooner. Her thoughts turned to Edgar, her boy friend... what would he think if he knew what was happening to her? And a voice, a woman's voice told her that he wouldn't even care. That's what Linda would say... he wouldn't even care!

Tears welled in her eyes, but her self-control held them there and she realized that she probably had cried more in the last week than she had cried throughout her whole life. She also felt a horrible queasiness in her stomach from the wine she had drunk. If only she could faint and not know anything about it.

Alanis glanced up at Don who was raptly studying her nakedness. His nude body loomed over her, and she could see his stiff prick sticking out of the black fuzz of hair at his groin. It looked awful! The thought that he was going to worm that lewd extension of his flesh down between her legs and inside her... the very thought! She shuddered and turned her face away at the idea of being made love to by someone other than Edgar.

"Please," she whimpered, then becoming afraid that he would become violent, she fell silent, wishing she had said nothing. The whole thing revolted her, and she felt she just couldn't go through with it, no matter what happened to her, even if he beat her up!

But Don continued to fix his stare, and despite her brave thoughts, Alanis felt so vulnerable that she did not budge. Don almost drooled as he looked down at her, enjoying a few moments of complete power over her. His eyes swept along her long shapely legs, then rose to her milk-white thighs that trembled softly, clamped tightly against each other, as though they would prevent any intruder from tasting the joys of the silken honey- patch between them. Alanis's breasts were large melons of flesh that jiggled on her rib cage with each tremulous breath she took.

"Man!" he said. "Even better than I thought!"

Alanis closed her eyes tightly, waiting for his attack. She just wanted to get it over with now. She couldn't stand the humiliation of being looked at any longer, like she was a piece of meat hanging in a butcher shop. But instead of the sweating palms she had expected, crushing into her delicate skin, she felt something entirely different. Not wanting to resort to insensitive groping, Don had begun to trace his fingers lightly up the insides of Alanis's legs, one hand on each leg, moving slowly up and parting the legs as he went, until they were spread upon the mattress and his thumbs were pressing into the soft pliant flesh.

A giant tremor of helpless indignity went through her at the light insidious touch. It was worse than if he had just grabbed her, at least that way it would be over fast!

Don smiled at the lewd position Alanis was in. He decided to take his time with this one, since he really wanted to stretch his pleasure out, especially since it seemed to be such a chore for Alanis!

"Please... I..." she muttered, unable to bear the strange sensation of Don's hands softly titillating the looser flesh of her thighs.

"You'll be begging me for it before I'm through with you, Alanis. Do you like that? Do you like to beg?" Don asked deftly continuing his subtle pressure until Alanis thought she would go out of her mind.

She began to toss about on the mattress in a vain attempt to escape, but Don would always bring her back to the position he wanted her in, so that he could continue playing at the sensitive tendons of her thighs, so terribly near the quivering mouth of her young, cringing pussy.

When Don thought he had created the desired effect his hands moved on, the fingers traveling on as though they had a life of their own, invading the defenseless slit of Alanis's pussy, toying in the narrow area that contained such a wealth of tender sensual folds. He separated the inner labia and began to flick at the small throbbing prick of her clitoris until with a heart-rending moan, Alanis felt a sudden rush of lubricating fluids on her pussy, signaling the involuntary arousal and opening of her tight, palpitating slit.

Alanis's unwilling groan spurred him on to wilder manipulations of his captive's straining cunt; and tantalizing as he went, he moved back and forth, maintaining a steady tickling, grinning in a depraved manner as he snatched the slow but sure change in her reactions.

The indignant cries of humiliation were becoming moans and mewls of forced pleasure. The steady flicking at Alanis's clitoris began to send staccato jabs of lust throughout her body, and her formerly wild thrashing became more subdued, tapering off to a slower kind of unconscious undulation. The lascivious act to which she had become an unwilling party brought tears of shame to her eyes. She felt that her own body had begun to betray her and this last indignity was proof of the fact. She was utterly helpless, a slave to her own lewd feelings... feelings that were growing stronger with every second.

Don began to move his hands over Alanis's stretched out body, making small circles of fire around the twin peaks of her nipples, forcing them into stiffness, and then returning to the lower depths where he once more let his fingers dwell in the open slit of Alanis's young, exposed pussy.

Oh God! she thought. Why did this ever have to happen... Why did I have to come over to his place! Why did Edgar have to make love to that girl!

But she couldn't think about these questions very long, as she was fighting a losing battle with her pride, and with what she had once thought of as her loyalty.

Her blonde hair tickled the mattress as she tossed her head from side to side, gritting her teeth tightly together in an attempt to quell the obscene flame of passion that was overtaking her.

Faithless whore! She, Alanis, was unloyal! But the voice of Linda spoke inside her again, saying, "So what? If he goes out to get, so can you!" and with this thought the last barrier was broken and a flood of ever-growing passion was released, sending helpless spasms rushing through every inch of Alanis's martyred flesh; prickly pins and needles rampaged throughout her overwrought system, and she was squealing like a tiny stuck pig.

"No! I shouldn't be doing this!" But she realized, even as she said it, that she was completely out of control now and there was nothing more to do but give in to it completely.

"Ohhhhh... God!" she screamed waggling her voluptuous body shamelessly and clawing the air, searching for something to grab on to.

Don knew the moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

"Hot damn!" he said under his breath, and then out loud, "Do you want to be fucked?" He grinned confidently.

"Nooooo!" Alanis cried, but Don increased the pressure on her burning pussy, now shoving three fingers high up into the smoldering sheath of her vagina, causing a deliciously piercing pleasure that shattered the last bit of reserve that lurked in the confines of Alanis's hopelessly aroused cunt.

"Yes, fuck me, fuck me please, please!" she screamed, thrusting her hips up to meet the scrounging fingers that rammed into her open flesh.

The words echoed dimly in her mind, obscene words that she seemed to have uttered before in a dream.

"Oh, God, Don, fuck me, fuck me!" she yelled.

Don enjoyed watching this timid girl who had slapped him. Man, no woman had done that for a while; at least she had spunk. He grinned as her aroused body went through wild, frenzied contortions, straining up in the agony of her frustration as she sought complete and total satisfaction from him.

"Hey, this is okay," he said, mostly to himself, readying his big throbbing cock with one hand and aiming it directly at the streaming young cunt that squirmed hotly down between the thighs before him. It was going to feel mighty good spearing that hot little cunt of hers with his big hard prick, spearing it and then shooting big loads of sperm deep into her soft, smooth belly!


Somewhere in the foggy distance a fog horn blew, and Alanis raised her head off the mattress feeling a cold chill waft over her naked body. Don let out a long sigh and, slithering down on the mattress, he let his rough tongue follow the soft contours of Alanis's panting body. It caressed the hillocks and valleys of her tummy, paving pathways to the intersection of her thighs, paying final homage to the pulsating bud of her clitoris. The satiated blonde felt goosebumps rise on her flesh. Ecstasy, pure ecstasy.

Maybe this was a man she could love, her love-starved mind said. For despite the fact that she had known this man for only a few hours, she had reached heights of ego-fulfillment that Edgar had long denied her of.

So, when he raised his head and smiled into her blue eyes, it was in expectation of better things to come. But Don, in the after moments of orgasm, had given some cool thinking to the situation. Sure, Alanis was a darned nice chick... one of the more personable he'd met in North Beach... but Dora still hung in his mind. It wouldn't hurt to ask. Who could tell these days, just by looking, what anyone's sexual preferences were. The question wasn't meant to shock; in fact, it was considered a compliment, for Dora's tastes were not easily compromised.

"Alanis?" Don gave a navel a bathing swirl with his teasing tongue. "Alanis, honey, that was wonderful." He kissed her appendix's scar. "You a swinger?"

"Huh?" She raised her head, a bewildered look in her eye making his eyebrows raise.

"You know a swinger. You dig women? It might be nice if you and I and Dora could get together some time... you know, a little dope, some good cognac, maybe some cocaine...

"What?" The incredulous blonde was on her buttocks now, sitting up straight. She wiped a smear of mascara that shadowed her lower eye lid. Maybe she hadn't beard right. "Maybe I'm really naive, but I don't know . ." Then it hit like a brick in face. "You mean?... No, now wait a minute. You think I'm going to make it with another woman and you at the same time?"

"Hey, come on. Don't be so ignorant. Man, this is California... twentieth century and all that. Bisexuality is where it's at, Alanis."

"Bullshit!" she screamed, reaching for her clothes.


Just as expected, Edgar was not at home and when Alanis got inside of the apartment and discovered that many of his clothes were missing, she realized he must be staying in his studio over on Mission Street. It was sad being in that apartment alone where many of the plants were wilting from lack of water; the rooms were stuffy and close as if no one had lived there for a week.

Alanis shuddered as she sank into the familiar over-stuffed chair, recalling how she had given into Don's attack, sighing shamefully but blissfully when he had finally made her spread her legs even wider, and had shoved his hard rubbery cock full into the fleshy lips of her tortured cunt. She had groaned in pain, but the pain was nothing compared to the incredible need she had felt to have his entire cock completely filling her sensitive pussy to the brim.

She remembered crying out loudly, screaming at the top of her lungs when his lewd cock plunged into her, again and again, hurting until it felt so good she thought she would pass out from pleasure. Nothing she had ever felt with Edgar could even approach what she had gone through that day and the knowledge of this disturbed her greatly.

This afternoon had been beautiful... up to a point. Slumped in the chair, her mind teemed with thoughts she could only face in the privacy of familiar surroundings.

Oh, life was so complicated. How could you tell what people were really like? Bisexual... hummph! How could he have even asked her if she would make love to another woman? And worse still, it was probably his old girl friend he wanted her to make lesbian love to. How could anybody ask that of her? And, too, how could she have felt such pleasure with someone she didn't even love? It was against human nature, against all emotional standard she'd set for herself.

In all truthfulness, when Don's thick cock had sunk deep into her belly, she had hoped that she would die that very moment with the fabulous sensation of ecstasy still swirling madly within her aching loins. And the strangest thing of all was that she began to cum immediately! The orgasm built on its own without help from her! Instead of fighting for it, praying for it, the way she did with Edgar, it had come of its own accord, with no effort other than the one smooth stroke into her fiery cunt!

Why did he have to ruin it? Alanis sobbed in the chair as she recalled how it had been. "Oh, I'm lost!" she murmured.

From that humiliating moment on, she had been nothing but a tool for Don's lust, cumming again and again as the passivity of her position brought out a kind of masochistic pleasure in her, turning degradation into a fervent desire.

She would never be the same again... never! She had let him do whatever he wanted with her and, instead of defending her honor after his lewd suggestion that she make love to he and Dora, she had passively slipped on her clothes. Had she been the woman she should have been, she would have slapped his face again. To even think that he would expect that of her...

Alanis pulled the afghan from off the back of the chair and spread it over her lap. The fog was heavy now at seven o'clock and the open living room window made the cold draft unbearable, but she refused to close it, choosing instead to ignore it, not feel it... just as she was doing with her emotions. She wanted to shrivel up and disappear right then and there.

If only she hadn't caught Edgar with that, that girl, then none of this would have happened. Perhaps she had responded too quickly by moving out on him and giving him no chance at explanation. It could be a stage he was going through, another 'bender' as he called it. Individuals were allowed that freedom, weren't they? Was it her place to cast judgment on him and leave? Oh, there were too many things to think about... to many angles to the truth for one lonely woman to decipher.

Later, she thought of packing up her clothes, the memorabilia of two years with Edgar, and the household things, but decided against it. Lack of strength some might call it, or even character, but to Alanis it was a subtle means of delaying the pain of final separation. That, she knew, would take more mental stamina than she could muster at that confused moment.


In the next few days Alanis lapsed into another wave of depression that frightened Linda to the core. Twice Edgar had called and twice Linda had refused to relay the message, telling him that Alanis had gone to Bolinas to stay with friends for the week. From her perspective, she was doing Alanis a favor. Edgar had cheated on her best friend once too many times.

On the third day of watching her best friend refuse meals and fill her gullet with glass after glass of wine, she decided to put her foot down and make some changes. The ethereal shawl of depression was beginning to affect Linda, too, and in her line of business where conviviality was a number one asset, she couldn't afford the dark moods. Then, too, privacy ran second in her 'cottage' business and no man would feel comfortable in the back room, no matter how much incense Linda burned, if they were greeted by the moping face of Alanis laying on the living room sofa like some kind of helpless emotional invalid.

Time for changes. Linda phoned Zeke and told him the story, emphasizing Alanis's sophistication and potential beneficence to the business. And, if plans worked out, Linda would soon have more customers than she could handle. Men were flocking to her door demanding, with money, some of the sultry woman's talents to help uplift their spirits and iron out the kinks in their backs. And Linda, in her subtle manner, helped put them at ease with the talents of her finger tips. Occasionally one would become too aggressive, demanding sex with her, but all it took was a little coaxing to convince the man that his hand would bring the same results as her vagina. With the handsome ones it was different, for Linda enjoyed sex and made no excuses for it. But above all, she was a business woman who was dedicated to the ideal that women need not prostitute themselves to the streets or an office job to create a generous living. No, Linda could do it all at home... and Alanis could, too, if put on the right track.

Zeke conceded to start Alanis out with lessons, though Linda didn't explain it to Alanis that way. They were sitting at the kitchen table when Linda brought up the subject.

"Remember Zeke?"

Alanis took another sip of her coffee. "Yes, I think so..."

"What did you think of him?"

"Okay."

"He wants to take you out. Would you go?"

"Uh."

"Don't be so enthusiastic!" tutted Linda lightheartedly.

Alanis chewed on her lower lip. "In the end they all want the same thing anyway. Doesn't matter what he looks like."

Linda's chocolate eyes rolled to the side and she spoke to an imaginary character across the table from her: "Would you listen to her?" she pointed at Alanis, then laughed. "Hey, come on, Zeke's a nice guy. I think you'd benefit from going out with him." She stared enduringly at her friend. "Why not?"

Why not? The words resounded in Alanis's head. She remembered Don and what had happened with him, and as her mind recoiled from the recollection, her body recalled in vivid detail and she felt a surging thrill race through her body.

"I guess if he's a nice guy," she stammered.

"Oh yes... whatever you didn't like about that Don fellow, I think you'll find this guy is quite different." Linda waited for a response. Ever since that afternoon four days ago, Alanis hadn't been the same. Sex, she guessed had been the cause and, if her ears were not deceiving her, she was certain she'd heard the familiar mewls and cries of masturbation last night. Either that or Alanis was making love to a phantom ghost out there in the living room.

"Tell him I'll go..." Alanis said, reaching for the wine bottle.


Edgar picked through his clothes in his closet. Half of them were dirty and the other half didn't fit now that he'd lost fifteen pounds, shed from hard work, anguish, and late night drinking that left him hung over and appetiteless the next day.

The movie was just about finished. Another week's work and he could make copies of the film and, hopefully, have it sold by the following month.

Maybe then his life would straighten out. With Alanis gone time seemed endless, but he'd fought the depression with work and booze, a combination that kept him out of trouble. If his daydreams became realities, he'd make a pocket full of money. Shit, he might take Alanis to Acapulco and stay in one of those fancy hotels with your own swimming pool where they float roses and orchids in the pool water and serve you iced drinks for nickels.

Until then, he'd maintain as best he could with the lesson in mind that getting laid was not the same thing as getting loved. And love - God how he needed it - was on his mind!


Alanis gathered the stamina to take a shower, wash her hair and put on fresh makeup. Her constant presence around the apartment was becoming a point of contention with Linda, she knew, though Linda was too kind to say so. But then, if Alanis had as many male visitors as Linda, she'd feel uncomfortable with another woman around, too.

Now, driving toward the beach, she felt an unexpected and undeserved calmness, a self assurance that all would work out in the end. All she need do is cope and hope, she realized, speeding through the yellow light, and time would take care of all.

When she returned at four-thirty, Linda was waiting for her with the message that Zeke would like to come over and visit with Alanis. Though she didn't tell Alanis, it was to be her first experience with what would lead to a profession... of sorts.

"He'll be here at seven..." announced Linda, whose voice carried from the other end of the apartment where she was remaking the room she playfully referred to as her 'office.' It was a small room draped in arabesque style with tie-died fabric of deep reds and purples, tented at the top to shade the foam rubber mattresses that filled every inch of the floor space. Hookas and other oriental water pipes were strategically placed at an arm's length. The heady scent of sweet incense filled the air and, on the window ledge rows of earthy-smelling oils decorated the wall-everything from 'coconut' to 'rose,' 'rain water' to 'spring earth.' It was a twentieth century harem, if ever there was one.

Alanis came to the door and watched as Linda pulled a burned stick of incense from its holder. "Seven, you said?"

"That's right, baby. Oh, and doll yourself up. Zeke likes that. I've gone out with him a couple of times and he's really sweet."

Alanis will be climbing the walls tonight, Linda thought to herself. She had told Zeke the whole story about Alanis, about it being her first such experience at nude massage. She wouldn't have trusted just any man with her best friend, but Zeke was the emotionally receptive type who could figure out a woman in two seconds flat. He'd know right away if Alanis was strong enough to make it in this business and she trusted his judgment. Who could tell? Maybe Zeke would make as much money for Alanis as he had for her, for Zeke was a man of the streets, besides being well-spoken and polite. That's what separated a pimp from an entrepreneur, and Zeke was definitely an entrepreneur with libertine tastes and a hedonistic view of life. That, Linda, surmised, made him just about perfect... In fact, if they hadn't restricted their relationship to a business one, she might have fallen in love with Zeke...

"I'll just pour myself another glass of wine before he comes," Alanis said, tipping the bottle of California burgundy so that her glass was filled to the brim. She was happy that she had found the magic potion that would settle her nerves. She had never been much of a drinker before, but now there didn't seem to be any harm in it, and she was using it for medicinal purposes. Linda had gone out even though Alanis had tried to convince her to stay at least until Zeke arrived.

"Now you just relax... you look simply wonderful!" she had called to her as she went out the door.

Alanis looked in the living room mirror one more time. The knit jumpsuit Linda had insisted she wear left little up to the imagination, but it made her feel nice and slim.

Linda acted just like a mother hen with her, sometimes, she realized... but she knew that Linda was only doing it for her own good. She wants me to be happy again... she thought to herself, downing the remains of her glass.

The bell rang melodiously and Alanis stumbled to the door. She wasn't drunk, but she was very high. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Zeke dressed in a pair of tight, fashionable Levies with suspenders, a European style shirt, collarless, with rolled up sleeves underneath. He looked young and energetic and she realized what a terrible state she must have been in that first night she'd met him. He hadn't looked half as carefree and handsome then.

"Zeke?" she asked, focusing her eyes more clearly.

"Yes, ma'm. That's me... Linda said you were beautiful, but I didn't realize what a foxy chick you really are."

Zeke walked in and Alanis breathlessly closed the door behind him. She couldn't think of anything to say. Fortunately, Zeke made it easy for her, beginning the conversation on his own accord.

"I'm glad you agreed to have a date with me tonight," he said confidently.

Alanis blushed, teetering slightly over her high platform shoes.

"Come in and have a seat won't you?" she said, starting into the living room.

Zeke followed her down the short hallway, watching the gentle sway of her full, rounded buttocks as she walked.

Alanis felt confused and embarrassed suddenly. Somehow everything was very difficult. Zeke's piercing eyes were looking at her with rapt attention as though making silent judgment on her. He was hanging on every word she said and yet she had said almost nothing so far. She felt a great tension between them, something that she thought she ought to fight against. A strange magnetic current was drawing her to this man.

"Drink?" she asked, heading for the kitchen.

"I don't drink. Why don't we smoke one of these reefers instead?" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a slender cigarette box made of hand-tooled leather. "Good stuff. You look like a swinging chick, bet you really get off on weed." He shot a prize-winning smile at her that made Alanis's heart lift.

"Well... once in a while."

"I'd really like to enjoy this with you, Alanis," he said softly, pulling the hand-rolled cigarette out of the case before stuffing it back into his pocket. Alanis made a mental note of the freckle in the cleft of his chin as he smiled back at her with eyes that wouldn't stop shining.

"What delicate bones you have, Alanis," he said when they were on the sofa passing the joint back and forth. "You know I bet you really missed your calling. You'd make a great model with that hair of yours... and those eyes... I'll smoke to that..."

He passed the joint to her. "I'd really like to experience you, Alanis. Lie naked with you and just hold you. We wouldn't even have to make love... just be together..."

Alanis's head spun 360 degrees! What had he said? Experience her? Cuddle? No demands? What a gentleman!

A shiver ran through her when Zeke touched the nape of her neck with his warm hand. The fact that he was not after sex, and only sex, created a shiver of excitement for which she was not prepared. As she moved over closer to him, she noticed that Zeke had manicured nails. She wondered about that.

When he leaned over to kiss her, she found she did not resist, but somehow welcomed his attention. She had hardly spoken to him and what he had said to her was fairly insignificant and yet it seemed she had known Zeke all her life. Her sex-starved body responded to him immediately and when he gently held her in his arms, she felt limp and submissive, sensing that no matter what happened, he would not harm her. He kissed her on the forehead first, then whispered in her ear. "Come with me." He took her hand and guided her back to Linda's office and closed the door.

For a silent moment Alanis was transfixed with ambivalence. As much as she enjoyed Zeke's company, something told her that it wasn't proper for a first date; she'd learned her lesson with Don. "Zeke... I really like you, but I don't think."

She was silenced by a masculine finger caressing her lip. "It's okay, Alanis. We don't have to make love. We'll just hold each other. You need it, I need it, so why don't we do it together?"

Alanis couldn't refute that, and when he unhooked his suspenders and his Levies, too, she was at a loss for words. When he was naked, he started taking off her clothes, awed by her perfect body and telling her so. Gently, he eased her down to the foam rubber floor and urged her to lie on her stomach, never once insinuating sexual intentions. Straddling her back, he instructed her to close her eyes and try to relax, to think of the most pleasant experience she could bring to mind. Alanis thought about the surprise birthday party her mother had given for her sixth birthday. The marijuana helped activate her imagination, and Zeke's hands did the rest as he started at the nape of her neck and worked the heels of his masculine hands into the sore, tension-taut muscles of her neck.

Alanis let out a long sigh of relief, all but purring into the richly scented mattress. It suddenly occurred to Alanis that Linda had changed the linens that day, and she secretly wondered if her best friend had this moment in mind. But she quickly dismissed the thought as cool dribbles splashed over her back and the heady scent of Pachouilly oil made her nostrils flare. Then strong hand making semi-circles of pressure erased all thoughts of the present.

"That's it, Alanis, relax... just go with it... yeah..."

Alanis was in ecstasy. Never had she felt so calm and peaceful... certainly not since she and Edgar... no, she wasn't going to let herself think about that now.

"How is it, Babe? Feel good?" Zeke smiled down at her naked back, silently assessing the perfection of her skin, the muscular contours of her back, and everything else perfect about her. Yes, she would make a masseuse, all right.

Alanis let out a long sigh. "That's fantastic!"

"Okay, do me." Zeke collapsed on his stomach. "Just use your imagination," he instructed as they changed positions. "Start at my toes and work your way up. Use the heels of your hands and don't be afraid to get rough. Ahhh, that's it," he crooned feeling Alanis's fingers dig into his body. "Oh God, baby, you're a natural..."

"Want some oil?" Alanis was getting into the spirit now. Touching flesh was a wonderful feeling, she realized, especially the flesh of someone like Zeke. Straddling his back, she studied the strong, rippling muscles of his tanned back, smiling at the flock of freckles on his left shoulder. Up on her knees now, she worked on his shoulders, her clitoral bud flicking teasingly against the unblemished skin of his back.

A tempting urge washed through her as she remembered those nights in bed with Edgar when they would spend all night in the sixty-nine position, licking and sucking each other to exploding climaxes.

Alanis sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. She couldn't think that way, she promised herself. That's how she had gotten into trouble with Don and that, she vowed to the Gods above, would never happen again.

"Aaah, Baby, you've got the hands of an angel... Come here," he urged, turning over on his back and motioning with a flirtatious crook of his finger for her to join him.

With little urging, Alanis lay down next to him, feeling confident about herself and trustful of Zeke. He started by kissing her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks. Then he kissed her steadily and passionately for a long while, stopping only every now and then to catch his breath and then his tongue would be back in her mouth, reaching for the back of Alanis's throat, pushing in an imitation of intercourse, his tongue a giant penis, her mouth a yearning cunt. At first he restricted his advances to the long sensual kiss, but then meeting no resistance there he began to explore her body slowly, carefully, approaching her breasts, then running his tongue down between them deep into the slit that was cushioned by the swelling globes of flesh. Alanis melted beneath his touch, her body aflame with desire, her mind reaching out toward him, in a desperate need for companionship. She had never before believed in love at first sight, being the cautious type, but whatever it was she was feeling had to be close to it... either that or magic.

"I want to be close to you, Alanis. I want to do more than cuddle with you. I want to taste you..." The words pierced Alanis like an arrow. Sure and true, they found their mark, releasing her completely from. any pretense of protest.

In one swift motion, Zeke turned on the bed, placing himself over her naked young body in reverse with his thickly hardened cock over her face, his legs spread on either side of her head.

Leaning down on his hands and knees, he said passionately, "Suck on it... use your tongue! You can use your teeth to nip a little... carefully... very carefully, baby."

Without protest, Alanis reached up to him, taking the long, thick cock in her hands, sliding the slack foreskin back to reveal the blood-red head of his cock and took it gingerly into her suddenly watering mouth, aware of the pungent man-taste of him. Inwardly she was still appalled with the realization of what she was doing so willingly.

Slowly, she began to suck, using her tongue to lave the giant pulsing cock-head filling her mouth, swirling her tongue around and around, trying finally to insert the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit in the tip of the glans.

Zeke leaned forward and down into the sixty-nine position, and with a groan, buried his lips into her rapidly moistening cunt. His tongue lashed out and probed wetly at her hair-lined cuntal opening, then moved up to her peaked little clitoris to lick her to a higher pounding excitement than she had ever before experienced. Against the commands of her reasoning mind, the young woman's wide-splayed cunt reacted, and she began to move her hips up to him, rhythmically, her glistening pussy slit on fire, begging for more of that hotly sensuous tongue!

Oh, I don't know how I can lie here and do this with a man I barely know. But the thought of her total surrender sent chills running along the base of her spine as she felt the slow rhythm of Zeke's cock soft in her mouth. I can't seem to help myself I want it... bad!

Alanis was confused by the delicious sensations in her own warming cunt, the generated heat in her forcing her naked body to jerk upward, to the insistent mouth of her partner. She moaned out her helpless need for him.

"Oh, Zeke... Zeke... I want it! I want you to... to do it to me now!" she gasped, out of breath.

Zeke felt her hands clutching at his head, her finger entwining lightly in his curly hair; she moaned and gasped, hauling his face forcefully into the hotly quivering pink slit of her cunt! He sensed the movements of her head flailing back and forth, visualizing its dark beauty as he speared up into the warmly velvety depths of her gradually dilating cunt. She ground her young hips uncontrollably into the softness of the mattress, writhing and squirming, wild little animal-like mewlings bubbling out of her lust-constricted throat. Then, she raised her spread- open genitals up to him, pressing his face into the sparse blonde-fringed slit, the hot cuntal walls opening and closing in a sucking action around his deep thrusting tongue in an unbelievably knowing manner.

Abruptly, Zeke withdrew his probing tongue to lick up through the moist-parted cuntal slit, circling her eagerly trembling clitoris. Then encompassing it with his lips, sucking and drawing the warm soft folds deep into the hotly hungering shelter of his mouth, his tongue continued its mind-shattering licking against the straining nerve bud of her womanhood.

Alanis gasped. "Oohhh... lick it... suck it... do anything you want to it... just don't stop!"

Zeke's brain whirled deliriously. He raised and twisted his head to fix upon her beautiful, ecstatically contorted face. Her head still tossed slowly at a set rhythmic pace as her fingers clutched tightly into his hair and she tried to direct his voraciously sucking mouth to her elastic cuntal opening. His hands moved over the silken softness of her belly to the erect rounded firmness of her cone-shaped breasts, cupping harshly their firm resiliency, his fingers tweaking and pulling furiously at their hardened tiny nipples, treating them almost cruelly in his strong building desire.

Then, Alanis felt him move back down over her, finally lifting her legs and forcing them back until her knees touched her tingling breasts, his hands pressed behind them raising her nakedly wide-spread loins to his wild tongue and sucking mouth. It was then that she felt the hot liquid contact of his tongue against her tightly puckered little ass, laving and probing at the sensitively raised opening, sending maddening sensations of rapture spiraling through her impassioned young body.

"Ohhh, yes... yesss!" she cried out. "Oh, Zeke, let me have your penis in my mouth again... I want to taste it."

His hot mouth never losing contact with the throbbing split up between her thighs, Zeke lowered his body, permitting Alanis to greedily curl her fingers around the swollen rod of flesh jutting down between his legs. Holding to its wide base skillfully with thumb and forefinger she pulled back the thick foreskin, then sucked as much as she could take of it into her anxiously salivating mouth.

In her uninhibited excitement, she sucked it so deeply into the hot saliva-filled cavern that it nearly choked her. Twisting her head enough to catch her breath, she began feverishly running her tongue up and down its soft underside, feeling it throb and pulse to her oral caresses and tasting the pungently masculine tang of the seeping fluid oozing from the slit at its tip. She cupped his heavy balls possessively in the warmly sheltering palms of her soft hands as lust blanketed her excited brain. He moved up and down... in and out of her mouth in cadence to his lashing tongue spearing into her moistly tingling cunt below. She sucked with fury at the hardened cock embedded almost to her tonsils, while Zeke labored with lewd sucking sounds at her naked young pussy, his hands beneath clutching the rounded cheeks of her buttocks, his tongue burrow