[Lois]

    The Big Setup
    (M+/F+, rape, blackmail)

    by Kysa Braswell
   
    Alec Berg watched the provocative sway of Judith's luscious figure, his eyes devouring the soft, rounded protuberances of her buttocks, as she turned away from his desk and went through the connecting door to the outer office, to usher in a prospective client.

    The sexuality that Miss Howser exuded reminded him, acutely, that he'd have to get to know her better, and soon, if things in the bedroom department at home didn't begin getting better, in the next few days. Judith was just finishing up her first week as his private secretary, and she seemed to like her job. He wondered, idly, if she'd like her job better, if he could offer her some attractive fringe benefits.

    His reverie was interrupted by the young giant who came through his office door. The boxer was even bigger, it seemed to Alec, than when he'd witnessed the man's last bout. It had taken place last week, at the Olympic. Alec had been there, in the fifth row, watching Mickey Pearson, fighting at a trim two hundred and thirty-five pounds, as he had out-pointed and out-fought his opponent, decking him twice, before finally putting him away, decisively, in the ninth round with a clean knockout. Alec remembered it had been Mickey's devastating left hook that had put Brian Belicek on the canvas for the full count. The fight had been clean. Brian Belicek had been the odds on favorite, but Pearson, knowing that he was fighting one of the most important fights of his career, had carried the fight, pressingly, to the older, ring-wise Belicek, and had won it, fair and square. No one questioned that he was now in a good position to demand a bout with the Champion. Mickey Pearson was now the principal contender for the Heavyweight Boxing Title.

    "Mickey!" Alec was out of his seat, extending a lean, sun- bronzed hand in greeting. "It's good to see you, but aren't you out of your element, coming to see me?"

    A slow, friendly smile spread across the big fighter's heavy- featured face; his deep-set, widely spaced, blue eyes were troubled. His gaze was direct, as he studied the private investigator's face. He took the seat Alec pointed to and sat up ramrod straight in it, his body tense and nervous.

    "Well, Mr. Berg, I haven't been robbed of the family jewels, yet." he joked, lamely, his face settling into grim lines.

    Alec laughed, heartily, while Mickey grinned, now, shyly, pleased that he, at least, appeared to be light-hearted. The detective surveyed the blonde giant across the desk from him and knew he could like this man. There was that easy-going directness about him, and there was the demonstrated ability to remain cool and collected, under stress. He had shown that several times in some thirty professional bouts.

    "I saw your last fight, with Brian Belicek." Alec mentioned, trying to feel out the reason for the boxer's visit to his office.

    "That's great, I'm awfully glad you did. It was a hard fight all the way, believe me! Belicek's a good man, a good fighter, hard to beat, one of the best in the business!" Mickey said. "But, according to some people, I was supposed to lose that fight!"

    "Well, I don't think Belicek had a chance, from the opening bell, even if he was favored, by the bettors!" Alec told him. "You were in good condition, and you were right in there, every round, carrying the fight to him, putting on the pressure."

    "Thanks, Mr. Berg, but I'm."

    "Just call me Alec," the detective interrupted.

    "Okay, Alec, then," He showed obvious tension at being interrupted. "But as I was saying, I'm talking about people, that wanted me to lose it, on purpose!" Mickey got it out. His face was unsmiling, his big, square jaw set.

    "You mean, somebody wanted you to throw that fight?"

    "Yeah, that's it!"

    "But that doesn't make sense! Brian was the man to put money on! Why would anybody want you to take a nosedive?" Alec queried.

    Mickey looked down at his sinewy hands. He balled them into hard fists, before he looked back up at Alec, his intense blue eyes looking directly into Alec's brown ones.

    "That's what bothered me, too, but afterwards, when I started thinking about it, it does make sense, if they had Brian tied up, and he were the contender, instead of me!"

    Rubbing both hands up over his greying temples, Alec thought about it. "If I follow you, what you're saying is they, whoever that is, are looking forward to the next Championship fight!"

    "It figures, if they've got the title-holder tied up, too, doesn't it?" Mickey spat his words out fast, wanting confirmation of what he thought about it.

    "Christ, do you know what you're saying?" Alec questioned.

    "I sure as hell do! I'm the question mark, because they couldn't get to me!" Mickey shot back. "And, now I'm ruining their plans for a real killing on the title bout!"

    "You mean they tried to buy you off, somehow?"

    "Yeah, but I won't take their filthy money!"

    "Now, they're threatening you?"

    "And, blackmailing me!"

    Alec whistled, thoughtfully, and asked, "So, why are you coming to me? The police could give you protection, and the Boxing Commission could look into the bribe attempt, and blackmail doesn't work, usually."

    "Yeah, but they've got pictures, that could ruin my marriage!" The fighter looked away, temporarily, feeling the guilt return to surge through him.

    "So, that's it! They set you up, and got it all on film?"

    "Well, hell, it was right after the fight! I was at this party, and met a girl, and, well, you know, one thing leads to another, and she takes me to bed!" Mickey defended.

    "I understand all that, but where was your wife, Mickey?"

    "She didn't come out here, for the fight," the big man explained. "She doesn't want me to fight, anyway."

    There was a long silence. Alec was digesting information, and he did understand, perfectly, how he had fallen into the trap.

    Mickey went on, explaining further, "My trainer's kind of old- fashioned, you know, and whenever I go into training, I've got to live almost like a monk, for maybe two months before every fight. Hell, about the only thing left is a hand-job, every now and then!"

    "If your wife were around, you couldn't have had her anyway, is that it?"

    "Yeah, for all practical purposes!"

    Alec nodded, still thinking. "Now," he said, "we've got to pin something down. You keep saying, 'they', and you haven't told me who 'they' are!"

    There was a moment's hesitation on Mickey's part, before he said, morosely, "That's just it, I don't know who the hell it is! If I did," he went on ominously, "maybe I could do something about it!" His big hands clenched and unclenched, with his emotion.

    "Is that where I come in, then? You want me to find out who's putting the pressure on you?"

    "Yeah, that's right, that's why I came to see you, because I've only had some goons, with guns, come around, with their threats, and."

    "And, the pictures?"

    "Yeah."

    "Let's start there, then, tell me about this gal you balled, everything you can remember about her, where you met her, where you went, what you did, and especially, the place you went, to climb into bed with her!"

    Mickey Pearson was game. He told Alec Berg everything he could remember about that night.



    It had been jubilant and hectic in Mickey's dressing room, right after the fight. Frantic fans had crowded into his dressing room to congratulate him, and it had taken a long time to clear the room, so he could get his rub-down and get dressed.

    There had been, perhaps, as many as ten invitations to parties, and Mickey was not sure how it had happened that he ended up going to a posh party in Newport. Maybe it was because of the woman who had given him the invitation. She had pressed in close to him, as he had backed into his dressing room, trying to answer news reporters' questions and being filmed for a T.V. news release. Flash bulbs had been popping, and the noise had been tremendous, the press of the crowd almost unbearable, but she had stuck with him, shouting in his ear about her party and pressing a piece of paper into his still bandaged hands. That wasn't the only message he had gotten from her. She had been busy, down below, as she had undulated up against him, her loins tight against his thigh. It was an invitation that had been hard to pass up, after all he had been pretty hard up, and when a voluptuous woman makes it that plain, Hell! What could he do?

    He had hung onto the address, and after his rub-down and shower, he had dressed, gotten into his rental car and had driven down to Newport.

    The party was going strong when he arrived, of course, he hadn't known any of the people there. They all seemed to be fans, and he felt comfortable; especially after he had downed the first two drinks, in rapid succession. He was there to have some fun! Christ! After living in a training camp for two months, he had been ready to break out and have himself a real ball, and a party, drinks, a willing woman, were some of the things he wanted for relaxation.

    She had been there, of course. Her name was Trina. Trina Dawes, a ravishing, auburn-haired beauty, with the clearest complexion Mickey had ever seen. He did gather that she wasn't the hostess for the party; she had been sent by someone else, to make sure he would come. Whoever sent her, Mickey decided, had chosen his messenger well, and she hadn't wasted any time in letting him know that that little thigh-rubbing deal in his dressing room was for real.

    With a third drink in his hand, Mickey was seated on a plush couch, while the party swirled around them, Trina seated next to him, her long, tapering thigh, nylon-clad below daring hot-pants, pressed in tight against his.

    She looked at him over the rim of her martini glass, her grey-green eyes smoldering, provocatively, and said, "Mickey, anytime you're ready, we can split this bash, for some real fun!" Her pink tongue snaked out between her full, sensuous lips and ran in a tiny circle around her lips, while at the same time, her fingers outlined the bulging muscles of his chest.

    Mickey was pretty sure what she meant, but he asked, innocently, "Another party, some where?"

    "Sure." she smiled. "Just you, and me, for some fun and games."

    "Can we run out, on our host, just like that?" he asked. "Which reminds me, whose place is this, because I'm not sure I caught the name, when I came in?"

    "Mick won't mind, I'm sure. He wanted you to come, and meet a few of his guests, which you have, and then just relax and have some fun." She smiled, as her hand dropped down to his thigh, where it caressed him, suggestively.

    He tried to remember who Mick was; his memory dredged up the image of a short, square-built man with almost silvery white hair.

    "Is Mick the guy with the white hair, only he's not really old?" he asked, feeling embarrassment at her boldly brazen action. He felt the heat of a blush coming up above his collar.

    "Yeah, that's Mick, Mick Stansfield," she affirmed. "He's got money, that doesn't stop, like Fort Knox!" she told him, leaning in close to add, "But, I don't want to tall about him, it's you I want!"

    The throaty seductiveness of her voice, her warm breath washing over him, as she made her point crystal clear to him, caused a natural reaction. Inside his pants, he felt the pounding blood rush into his penis, to be trapped there in a growing erection, while below, the strong sensation of the crawling lift of his balls by his scrotal sac made him fully aware of his demanding sex needs. Christ! He was getting hot, already! Damn! She's not bashful, about it!So, if she's hot to trot, what in the hell am I waiting for?

    It was a good question. He had never cheated on Claire, before now, but he had known, when he had accepted Trina's invitation to this party, that he would do just that! He'd been angry ever since a week ago, when he'd called his wife on the telephone, trying to get her to change her mind. She was stubborn about it. Under no circumstances would she come to see the fight, and that was that! He could get on a plane and come home, right afterward; she'd be there, waiting for him.

    All week long, his anger had seethed, just below the boiling point, and he'd had to fight with himself, not to let it affect his training for the fight, or the fight itself. Then, tonight ... when Trina had pressed in close to him, seductively rubbing herself up against him, as she told him about the party, he had made up his mind. To hell with it! I'm not climbing onto a plane, tonight! I'll go home tomorrow, or the next day! He had told his manager, in the dressing room, while he was getting his rubdown, to cancel his flight reservations. He'd reschedule them, in a day or two.

    Harry Nash hadn't liked the idea. "That little wife of yours'll go haywire, if you don't get home to her!"

    "She can wait a couple of days!" Mickey had growled. "I'm going to take it easy, for a while, sit in the sun on the beach and relax."

    "You sure you know what you're doing, Mickey?"

    "Just cancel the God damned flight, Harry, and get the hell off my back!" he had barked. "Besides," he had added, "training's over, the fight's over, and I'm a free man, for a while!"

    "Okay, Baby, it's your party, now," he told Trina, reaching down to cover her hand on his thigh, before she caused him some real embarrassment, right there, in front of everybody. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

    They left Mick Stansfield's house party, together, in his rented car. Trina Dawes snuggled up close beside him, as he drove, following her directions.

    Mickey wasn't sure, exactly where he drove. He had belted down a couple of drinks, and he didn't really care. His impression was that he had driven South, possibly as far as Corona del Mar, where they had wound around through residential streets, arriving at her apartment house, in what seemed to be a very short time, Of course, he wasn't able to concentrate on his driving very well, anyway. Soon after he'd started off, Trina's hands were busy, again, down there, caressing and massaging his thigh, her hand moving up, slowly, tantalizingly, until her tiny hand was between his legs, her fingers teasing his throbbing cock to a fully elongated, aching erection. Then, expertly, she had found the zipper tab. The metallic sigh of the zipper was loud, in the car, as she lowered it, and her smooth, warm, lotion-softened hand wormed its way, knowingly, into his open fly, to find the hardened, throbbing shaft of his cock. She gasped as her exploring fingers found it and brought its turgid length out into the car.

    "God, Mickey, you are a big man, in all ways, aren't you?" she crooned, lewdly.

    Smiling to himself, glad that she was impressed with his more than adequate manhood, he told her, "Take it easy, Baby, it might go off in your hand!" The exquisite sensations that raced through him, at her touch, made him worry. Christ! It's been a whole two months, since I've fucked a woman!

    "I'll take my chances!" she said, then asked, "Why the short fuse?"

    "You must not know much about prize fighters." he grinned. "I haven't balled a woman, for two months, because of training for this fight!"

    "That's terrible!" Trina sympathized. "You mean, you've had no sex, at all, in that time?"

    He shifted, uncomfortably, in his seat, but decided to tell her, anyway, "Well, nothing except for a hand-job, now and then ... when I couldn't stand it, any longer!"

    "It's inhuman, almost like being a monk, or something!" she expostulated.

    "Yeah, that's right," Mickey agreed.

    "What about in between fights, are you married?"

    He wished, fervently, that she hadn't brought up that subject. There was already too much guilt crowding into him, and he didn't need any extra reminders. Hell! If Claire had only come on out here, like she should have, I wouldn't have to be out looking for a strange piece of ass! He had known that's what he would do, even before Trina had issued her sexy invitation to the party, tonight. Sure! It was wrong!But, what the hell! ... Even if Claire didn't want to watch the fight, she could've been here, waiting to take me to bed, like a good, little wife should!

    "Yeah, I'm married, but let's drop that subject!" he growled.

    "Okay, Mickey." she agreed, starting to stuff his warmly jerking cock back into his pants.

    "You don't have to drop that!" he grunted, startled.

    "There's my apartment house. You can wait, for a couple of minutes, until we get inside, can't you?"

    "I suppose I'll have to!" he grinned.

    Mickey parked the car, and they went up to her apartment. Once they were inside, Trina led him directly to her bedroom, turned on a small bedside lamp and turned, quickly, to rush into his arms.

    He enfolded her lithe figure in his brawny arms, and she came in tight against him, whispering, "Kiss me, Mickey! Kiss me!"

    Her face was lifted up to him, and he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue, demandingly, into her warm, moistly opened mouth as his hands smoothed down her back to the rounded, full moons of her buttocks, sheathed tightly by her scanty hot pants. His steel-banded fingers first cupped the warm resilient flesh, caressingly, then dug into the softness of them, savagely, as his passion-starved body began to react to his great need. An involuntary moan escaped his lips, as his aching penis lurched against the confining cloth of his pants, making a bid for freedom. He felt it standing up, hotly between them, and she was moving her hips in teasingly undulant circles up against it. Then, he was aware of the viscid moisture that seeped from the tiny slit in his cock's head; his natural lubricating fluids were making it feel sticky and moist, and he began to feel the expanding jerk of his cock, almost like, Hell! I'm starting to feel, almost like I'm going to cum, in my pants, like some kid, getting his first piece of ass!

    Abruptly, he pulled his mouth away from hers, breaking the hot, deep kiss.

    "Christ!" he breathed, urgently. "Let's get into that bed ... before I explode!"

    Trina leaned back away from him, laughing, still in the circle of his arms, but her loins remained plastered up against him. She gave an extra tantalizing grind of her hips, in contact with his searingly pulsating cock and asked, "Has it really been two months, since you've laid a woman?"

    "Yes, God damn it!"

    "Then, you need something else, right now." She smiled meaningfully-almost lewdly, as she pushed his big frame back onto the bed. "And, I'll take care of that, so it'll be more fun, for both of us, later!"

    Trina wedged her knees in between his thighs, as he sat on the edge of the bed, then swiftly knelt between them, her hands reaching out to unbuckle his belt and zip down the fly opening of his pants; then, as he lifted himself, slightly, she pulled his pants and his shorts down around his muscular legs.

    Eagerly, one of her tiny, trembling hands reached out for the massively erect shaft of his violently jerking cock. Her red- nailed fingers couldn't go around its girth, but she slid the heavy foreskin back over the moist, blood-inflated cockhead, feeling its demanding jerk in her hand. She stared at it in disbelief. It was gigantic!

    "Mmn, you are just about ready to explode!"

    Tucking his hips under him, Mickey shoved his rampantly spearing cock up toward her, instinctively, wanting it, his desire heightened, even more, by the knowledge of what she intended to do to him, for him!

    Then, slowly, Trina lowered her head and kissed the pulsing, smooth, red tip, while her other hand squirmed under him to caress his heavy, sperm-laden testicles.

    The warm, smoothness of her sensuous lips, kissing the throbbing head of his lust-filled prick was electrifying, and he thrust up at her lipstick-reddened mouth with animal urgency, wanting it, now!

    "Oh, God!" he groaned. "Suck it! Suck my cock, now!"

    Her saliva heated mouth came down over it, then, her lips ovalling around the pulsing coronal ridge to enclose the whole of his smooth rubbery cockhead in warmly sensual moistness.

    Mickey's needfully throbbing prick jerked, expandingly, in her mouth, and the erotic thought of what she was doing to him, the lewd, salaciousness of it, almost as much as the ecstatically tingling sensations that raced through him, gave him an added feeling of voluptuous expectation.

    The shaft of his cock was held in one of her tiny, soft hands, while the other, underneath, kneaded and caressed his balls, gently, her red-lacquered nails scratching across the wrinkled skin, lightly; meanwhile, she had begun to hollow her cheeks, sucking his pulsating cockhead with a strong, steady rhythm, her head beginning to bob up and down, absorbing more of his massive length each time her mouth nibbled downward toward his hairy loins.

    Inside her mouth, her tongue swirled around the blood-filled head of his cock, with wild abandon, and he was aware that on every upstroke, she was attempting to worm the tip of her wetly flicking tongue into the tiny slit of the very tip of it.

    Mickey tensed his muscular loins and shoved his demanding prick up into her wildly sucking mouth, feeling it plunge, deeply, into her throat, as he began to thrust in rhythmic, counter- movements to her smoothly bobbing head.

    In a hypnotic trance of sexual need, lost in a sensual morass of pleasure sensations, he moaned, again, softly, as her nibbling mouth began to move up and down his massive shaft with increasing speed and pressure, her knowledgeable tongue giving a swirling lick to the lust-hardened head of his cock on every upstroke.

    Looking down at her face, working over him, he saw that she was in a sexual rapture of her own. Her eyes were closed, and her breath was labored, streaming in and out of her nose, with an audible rasping sound.

    Her long, auburn hair was falling down over naked thighs, and he reached out to the glossy sheen of it, with both hands, placing one on either side of her head, to guide her up and down the ever more demanding shaft of his aching cock.

    It was fascinating for him to watch, as a little, raggedly pink flange of her moistly sucking lips was pulled out on each withdrawal, then stuffed back in, again, as the hardened rod of his penis slipped into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing in and out, as she sucked, hungrily, on him.

    The ever-building sensuality concentrated in the bloated, sensate head of his cock and he could feel its demanding pulse, jerking, expandingly, in response to her tantalizing tongue that swirled over its satiny corona stimulatingly, on every head- bobbing stroke.

    Mickey could feel the searing burn, acid-like, that signaled the nearness of his ejaculation. The agony of his building need to cum surged through him, in ecstatic waves of sensation, his hot sperm demanding its release from his swollen testicles, and he groaned aloud, as he drove his aching cock deep into Trina's mouth and throat.

    "Christ! That's it, Just a little more, like that, and I'll cum!, Just, suck it, a little while, longer!"

    Raspy, strangling sounds took the place of words, then, he gasped, "OOoooh! AAAaauuggh!" His breath came faster, rasping in and out of tortured lungs. He was almost, ready to cum! Now! Furiously, he fucked his hips up at her face and watched the rigid length of his prick drive, deeply, almost all the way up to his sperm-loaded balls into her mouth. Her nose was buried in the hairiness of his loins, and she took it, all of it, in her mouth and down her throat! God! It felt sooooo good!

    Then, he came! His ejaculation was explosive; the hot, thick sperm jetted the full length of his cock, to spray from the slitted tip of the lust-inflated head deep into moist wet cavern of her voraciously sucking mouth, forcing her to swallow it, desperately.

    "Now!" he grunted. "God! I'm cumming! Now!"

    His strong hands on her head pulled her mouth down, roughly and hard on his wildly spewing prick, and his loins thrust up, convulsively, at her, securely immobilizing her head, while his cum spewed, hotly, deep into her throat.

    And then, he collapsed, lying back on the bed, his grip on her head relaxing, then releasing, and his hands fell to her shoulders to fondle and caress them. Gradually, his cock became soft and deflated in her mouth, but she continued to suckle and nibble on it until she had consumed the final drop of his semen; then, with a sigh, she allowed the flaccid shaft to pull from her mouth, moistly glistening from her saliva.

    Lifting her head, she gazed at him through heavy-lidded grey- green eyes, eyes that conveyed earthy sexiness, and a worldliness, beyond her years. She rose from her kneeling position and crawled up over him to snuggle down beside him, offering him her lips to kiss.

    Mickey crushed her lithe body to him and kissed her, darting his tongue into her mouth to taste the lingering male essence of his own cum there. Long and deeply they kissed, their mouths welded together, savoring the sensual communication. Finally, after several moments, Trina pulled away. She looked at him with a glowing anticipation on her face. "That was a pretty good opener, and after you've rested a while, and had a drink we can get to the main course, Okay?"

    "Damned right!" he agreed.

    "What do you want?"

    "You!" he grinned reaching out for her.

    Writhing away from him, she smiled, "So soon? I meant what are you drinking?"

    "Bourbon's fine."

    Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he watched the provocative sway of her hot-pants clad hips, as she left the bedroom. Damn! She's a sexy little bitch! Exactly what I needed, too! Then, he wondered about her, wondered why she had brought him there. She's been around, but she doesn't fit the picture, of being a whore! He knew, of course, that there were women, who made a point of taking celebrities to bed, And, I suppose I'm that, more or less, now that I've got a shot at the Heavyweight Boxing Title!

    He didn't question beyond that. She was his to enjoy, for the evening, at least, and maybe more, if he played his cards right. Hell! Why should I look a gift horse in the mouth?

    Bending down, he took off his shoes and slipped off his trousers. His jacket, shirt, tie and undershirt followed, then he lay down, again, on the bed, having retained just his shorts.

    Trina came back, carrying tall, cool drinks. She saw him lying there on the bed, relaxed, and looked him over, critically, as she handed him his bourbon and water.

    "You know, I was a little bit afraid of you, at first!"

    "Why?" he queried, leaning back against the headboard and taking a healthy swallow of his drink. "I'm just an ordinary guy."

    "When I saw you fight, tonight, it was almost, like you were a trained animal, a trained fighting animal!"

    "Boxing's just a skill." he tried to explain.

    "But, aren't you trying to hurt the other man?"

    "Yes, that's part of it. He's trying to do the same to me... too."

    "And, you're not angry, at each other?"

    "No, of course not!"

    "Then, why do you fight?"

    "Money, mostly," he answered, truthfully, "but there's the fame, if you make it to the top! I guess that's part of it."

    "Does your wife like for you to fight, Mickey?"

    "No, she doesn't! The only part she likes, is the money!" he grunted. "But I don't want to talk about my wife, right now!"

    "What do you want to talk about?"

    "You!"

    "Why?"

    "Because, you're here, damn it!"

    "And, available?" she cooed, seductively, kicking off her boots and stretching out beside him.

    "And, available!" he seconded, lifting his glass for another stiff swallow of whiskey. He felt it warming his belly. That's what he wanted, whiskey and a woman, and it had been too long, since he'd had either. Again, he lifted his glass and drained it. Now, for the woman, to fuck!

    Setting the empty glass down on the bedside table, he reached out for Trina his hand going to the full mounds of her breasts. He felt them, warm smooth and vibrant under her blouse and realized that she was not wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard and elongated, and he felt them spiking into the palms of his hands.

    "Christ, let's get you stripped naked!" he grunted, as he began to feel the beginning of a new erection, throbbing warmly into being down between his legs.

    She helped him, as he unbuttoned her blouse, shrugging her shoulders, when he removed the flimsy garment to expose her luscious breasts to his lustful eyes.

    Her breasts, alabaster white, firmly melon-like, were wide- spaced on her chest, and they pouted, proudly, with the coral nipples standing at alert attention over the darker, crinkled aureoles.

    "Beautiful!" he said, with fervent appreciation, as he leaned over her to take a berry-like tip between his lips to suck and nibble, while his hand cupped her other breast, caressingly, his fingers digging into the smoothly pliant flesh. Then, while his lips paid moist homage, hungrily, to the one pinkly erect nipple, his fingers rolled the other, teasingly, causing them both to spear out to even greater hardness. Her little moan of arousal was warm, as her breath washed over the side of his face, and her hands caressed and massaged the heavy muscles of his back.

    After a few moments, he slid his hand, exploringly, down over her smooth, flat belly, and found that she still had on her hot-pants. Raising himself up and temporarily abandoning her sensate breasts, Mickey growled, "Come on, Trina Baby, I want you bare-assed naked!"

    "Okay, honey." she breathed.

    Together, they stripped the remainder of her clothing from her. Her panty hose followed her hot-pants to the floor, as Mickey tossed them aside. Now, her perfect body was revealed to him, and his eyes locked on her enticingly rounded hips, mature, marble-white and devoid of suntan lines, their masterfully sculpted curves leading to the downward, sweeping taper of her delectable thighs, to small, dimpled knees. The calves of her perfect legs reversed the long, tapering curve of her thighs and led, easily, to tiny, delicate ankles and narrow, well-formed feet ... And, there between the whiteness of her slightly spread thighs, he saw, clearly, the glisteningly moist pink flesh of her vaginal slit, surrounded by softly curling auburn-tinted hair. Her sexual arousal was obviously visible in the tiny droplets of viscid moisture exuded from her cuntal lining that clung to the two budding petals of her inner pussy-lips peeking shyly out at him from the sensitively throbbing little furrow.

    Below, he felt the throbbing lurch of his fully erect cock, straining to be freed from his shorts. Damn! I'm hot, again, already!, And, she's ready to fuck, too!

    "God! You're lovely." he choked.

    Tiny, mewling sounds came from her lips, as she ground her hips, undulantly, allowing her thighs to splay open a little wider, obscenely revealing the whole of her soft, gently pulsating pussy to his lust-filled gaze.

    Fascinatedly, he watched as her slender fingers, the nails red-polished, cupped her own breasts, caressingly, kneading the sensually erect nipples, then her palms lifted the firm, full mounds of them, pointing them at him, almost as though she were offering her breasts to him, as a sacrifice.

    Her actions were doing things to him. New, erotic sensations arced in his loins, and his warmly throbbing cock expanded, jerkingly. Christ! I've got to get it in her, now, before it's too late!

    Then, her eloquent hands smoothed down across her flat, whitely smooth belly to her groin, her hands framing the moist furrow of her cunt, where she teasingly spread the cora-line slit to expose the pink, inner flesh of her vaginal opening. Her voice was throatily sultry, as she asked, "Do you want to fuck me ... Mickey, darling?"

    "Hell yes!" he croaked, raspily. "You know I do!"

    "Then, tell me!" she cried, with sudden, impatient urgency.

    "I want to fuck you, Baby, and right now!" He reached down and stripped off his shorts, then turned back to her.

    Trina's eyes zeroed in on the rock-hard, pulsing shaft of his massive cock and breathed,

    "How, do you want to fuck me?"

    "Hard!" he grunted. "Deep, and hard, and fast!"

    "Oh, God! That's what I, want, too!" she moaned. "I want you to fill me up, with cock, Mickey, until I can't breathe!"

    Mickey rolled over on top of her, his hips wedging down between her white, trembling thighs. "God damn it!" he growled. "I'm going to fuck you, so hard, you'll flip right out of your skull!"

    She writhed and mewled, in her sexual excitement, beneath him, grinding her hips up at the hardness of his giant cock, attempting to capture it, and her undulating movements transmitted her raw, sex-nee] to him, inciting his lust-filled cock to even more inflamed hardness. His balls ached, painfully, from the building erotic pressure.

    With a frustrated moan, Trina unable to line up her gyrating loins with his hard, nudging cock-head, reached down between them to grasp the monstrous shaft and guide the throbbing, bulbous head to the moistened slit of her searingly inflamed cunt. Her hips ground around and around in tiny circles, as the blood-engorged head wormed into her cuntal opening little by little. Finally, the whole head of it was sucked just up inside her vaginal mouth, and she shifted her hands up around him, placing one on either of his muscular buttocks-cheeks and attempting to pull him forward into her.

    Mickey, holding himself aloft over her, then, on brawny arms needed no more urging. He used the strength of his back and legs, as he flexed his hips and drove his pulsatingly needful cock deep, hard and long, straight into her moist cuntal sheath, smoothly, cleaving her cunt walls wide. His blood-filled cock-head gored her with feral energy, pushing little wavelets of her sensitive, vaginal lining before it, as it plunged past the neck of her cervix, flicking it, painfully, in passing, to hit bottom, finally, in the farthest back wall of her tightly constricted stomach. Their pubic bones smacked together, solidly, and he had filled her cunt, completely, with potent man-flesh.

    "OOOOooooh, God! That's it!" she grimaced. "That's the way I want it!" She was cock-filled as she had never been before, in her life!

    The boxer had impaled her, pinning her to the mattress, immobilizing her, as he lay, heavily, on top of her, for a moment or two, while deep in her cuntal passage, he flexed his monster cock, expandingly, and reveled in the pulsing flutter of her interior vaginal muscles that responded claspingly, the warm elastic sheath seeming to milk at him with warm intensity. God! She was tight!

    And then, Mickey began to grind his aching cock into her squirming cunt, beneath him, and she thrust back up at him, counteringly, arching her body and pulling her thighs back to take all of his hardened shaft deep up inside her soft, sensuous young pussy. She moaned aloud, in delight, as he began to thrust in and out of her, with long, hard strokes, his hardened rod coming almost all the way out of her cunt, on the upstroke, then, animalistically, he plunged it back into her, ramming it home the full length, into the hungry mouth of her clinging, clasping cuntal passage.

    Beneath him, Trina's mouth was open, voicing an inarticulate liturgy of passion, as her head began to fling from side to side, and her long, auburn hair was tossed into wild disarray.

    Gradually, the mutual tempo was increased, until his plundering cock was pistoning in and out of the hotly moistened walls of her cunt like a steam engine with a broken safety valve, as their nakedly writhing bodies slapped together, fleshily, in wild abandon.

    Suddenly, Mickey realized that he was setting too fast a tempo, a speed that would bring him to spewing ejaculation far too soon, unless he slowed down; otherwise the girl would be left high and dry, and he wanted to make sure it was good for her, too.

    He tried, deliberately, to slow down, pace himself, as he plunged his long, thick cock, full length into her receptive, warmly moist cuntal passage, but her cunt, it seemed to him, was sucking and nibbling at his, sensitive, sex-starved penis, like another little mouth. God! It was too much! He felt as though he were being pulled into the maw of a machine that would suck him inside out!

    His testicles were enlarged and swollen from the readying load of sperm, waiting there to be pumped the length of his aching cock. He felt the head of his prick begin to expand, throbbingly, with the sweet pain of imminent ejaculation, as he ground into her, desperately, trying to hold himself back.

    Then, he felt it begin, back behind the root of his cock. It burned, searingly, like racing wildfire. His rectum convulsed, and he knew the dam was going to burst, any second. God! He was going to pop, already! He couldn't hold back any longer,

    Mickey's face twisted into a contorted grimace of delicious anticipation, laced with the poison of a sense of failure, a feeling that he would not be able to satisfy the woman he was fucking. Oh, Christ! It's almost here! I'm going to cum, in a few seconds!

    "God!" he howled with urgent disgust. "I'm, going to cum ... already!"

    "It's Okay, darling! Just keep fucking! It'll be all right ... but just keep shoving your cock in me!" she assured him, feeling his anxiety.

    Pulling her thighs back, even farther, she mashed them down against the resilient mounds of her swelling breasts, raising her loins up to him and grinding up at him in perfect counterpoint to his plunging, pile-driving thrusts.

    "I'm, going, to cum!" he wailed, agonizingly. "I can't help it!"

    "Oh God! It's Okay! It's Okay! Fuck me, as hard, as you can, and don't stop, until you have to!" she instructed.

    He did! Almost insanely, he fucked in and out of her claspingly moist cunt, his prick Bruce-hammering deep into her, until with searingly liquid jets of his viscid sperm hosing through him, he came deep up her hungrily flared belly. His lust pumped through his cock in a raging torrent of rapturous release.

    Strangling, animal sounds of sexual gratification ripped from his lips. His grunts of pure carnal pleasure were loud in the bedroom, and he had the impression that Trina had cried out, too, in ecstatic pleasure of orgasm. He couldn't be sure, though; his own sensual involvement had been too profound, at that instant.

    "Did you, cum?" he gasped.

    "Yes! Oh, yessss, darling! I came, right with you!"

    Mickey held himself, rigidly, above her, while below, her sheathing cuntal passage still milked at his wildly jerking cock that was pumping the last of his cum through the full, hotly pulsating length of it. Her loins pressed up hard against him, and she held him there, while a hungry little fluttering movement inside her vaginal tunnel nibbled up and down the length and thickness of his throbbing shaft.

    He felt the tension wash away from him, as now his cock began to deflate inside of her, and he felt drained, completely satisfied. God! She's the best fuck, I've ever had!

    Events happened fast then!

    Just at the instant he collapsed on top of her, there was a blinding flash in the bedroom.

    "What the hell!" he growled, every nerve and muscle fiber shocked into instant alertness. He started to get up. It had been a flash-bulb that had practically blinded him, a photographer's flash!

    "Stay right where you are!" a man's voice rasped out at him.

    Looking back over his shoulder, toward the door, Mickey saw the figures of two men, indistinctly, in the dim light. One of them, the speaker, was pointing a deadly looking pistol at him. He froze. Beneath him, Trina whimpered with fright.

    "What do you want?" Mickey growled.

    "We just wanted to let you know, we got everything on film!" the man with the gun told him. "And, your sweet little wife'll be very interested in seeing all the pretty pictures."

    "What is this, a shakedown?"

    "Of course, your wife won't see them, if you play ball."

    "What do you mean?"

    "You know what the hell I mean!" the other grunted. "You turned us down, once, but you're not getting the second chance!"

    Instantly, Mickey knew what they wanted. They were going to try blackmailing him into taking a dive, when he got into the ring with the Champion.

    "You can go to hell!" he bellowed. "I'll never fight a fixed bout!"

    "That's what you think!" The man with the gun came close to the bed. "Crawl off that broad!" he ordered.

    Mickey obeyed, his now flaccid penis pulling, moistly, from Trina's still warmly trembling vaginal opening. As he stood to his feet, the goon holding the gun, brought the weapon down hard, in a slashing arc to the side of his head. Instinctively, the big boxer rolled with the blow, deflecting most of its force, but even so, he was knocked down. Knowing that his bare fists were no match for an armed man, he decided to stay down for the count.

    "Next time we see you, you'd better have a better answer!" the unknown gunman spat down at him. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared the two men were gone.

    While he was down on the floor, Mickey knew he'd been set-up for this. Trina! She'd been too anxious to get him to that party ... in too much of a hurry to get him into a bed with her! Christ! Why'd he been so stupid?

    Looking up, he saw that she was kneeling down beside him, concern on her face.

    "Well?" he grated up at her, questioningly, "How much do you get out of this?"

    He sat up, and she tried to put her arms around him. "I-I don't know, what you mean, darling?"

    Mickey brushed her away from him. "You know what the hell I'm talking about! You set me up, for your gun-toting friends!"

    "N-No! Mickey, no! That's not true!"

    Quickly, he stood to his feet, gathered up his clothing and began dressing. "That's a damned lie, and you know it!" he stormed. "Come on, tell me what you get out of it!"

    Trina crumpled onto the bed, sobbing, "NNothing! I don't, even know, who those men were!"

    "I wish I could believe that!" he ground out at her. He was dressed, now, except for his jacket and tie. He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet and removed a crisp fifty dollar bill. Throwing the money down on the bed, beside her, he turned to leave, flinging back over his shoulder, "There's fifty for your trouble!"



    "And, that's the story, up to now?" Alec queried.

    "Yeah, that's it!"

    "Why'd you wait until now, to come to me?"

    "I thought I could handle it!"

    "What happened, to make you change your mind?"

    "Well, Claire, my wife, changed her mind, and came on out here, to Los Angeles," Mickey explained.

    "So?"

    "They're looking for her in Nebraska where we live, and it's just a matter of a day or two, and they'll make contact with her, here!"

    "I take it, then, you love your wife, and you don't want to lose her?"

    "Hell no, I don't!" the big man grunted. "We may have our differences, but I don't want to lose her!"

    "Okay, then," Berg summarized, "As I see it, I've got to find Trina Dawes, and find out what her connection is to this little blackmailing job, and I suppose I'd better check out Mick Stansfield."

    "Why him, he's some kind of industrialist?" Mickey questioned.

    "I just like to check out all the possibilities, anyway, I don't think your friends, with the nasty dispositions, would be thinking up the ideas. It's somebody with brains! I want to nail the big shot! That's the only way to stop the whole caper!" Alec told him.

    "Then, you're saying you'll take the job?"

    "Yes, I'm working for you, as of right now." Berg said.

    The prizefighter was gone, and Alec mulled over all that the boxer had told him. He decided that his first job would be to locate Trina Dawes. Tomorrow, I'll check through Dunn and Bradstreet, see what I can scare up on Stansfield,

    Pressing the intercom button, he said to his secretary, "Judith, call my wife, and tell her that I'm working on a case, I won't be home, until late, probably."

    "Yes, sir, Mr. Berg, right away!" Her voice came, tinnily, through the tiny speaker.

    "And, Judith?"

    "Yes, Sir?"

    "Knock off that Mister stuff, and the yes, Sir, no, Sir bit! You're supposed to be my private secretary!"



    With an unexplainable, cold resentment welling up into her conscious mind, Brandy Berg, carefully, replaced the telephone in its cradle, breaking the connection.

    It was all she could do to remain politely civil to Alec's new secretary, who had just called to tell her that her husband wouldn't be home, until late, again!

    Brandy hadn't met the new girl, Friday, yet, but intuitively she knew that she must be young, and pretty. Unbidden, a nagging suspicion rocketed around inside her brain. Could Alec be taking her, out to dinner, and, She shied away from completing the thought; it was too threatening, to her, to her marriage!

    Sighing disconsolately, she looked at the two prime steaks she was marinating and had planned to serve for dinner that evening. There was nothing to do but put them back in the refrigerator to cook for the next day. Since she'd be eating alone, again, something simple was in order, so back into the fridge went the steaks.

    Of course, she had known, when she married Alec Berg, that his work, as a private investigator, would keep him away from home, some of the time, but lately, it seemed that most-if not all-of his evenings had been spent away from home. He'd told her it had been necessary, that the case he was working on, involving a night-club singer's murder kept him going to various clubs, shadowing the suspect, gathering information on him, and finally getting evidence and a motive that led to his arrest. There had been a big splash in the newspapers and on TV about the case, but there had been no mention of Alec's work on it. Brandy wondered about that.

    Alec had explained it to her. "Actually, I don't want that kind of publicity. I'd rather let the police take the credit, so I can work, in the background!"

    "It seems unfair."

    "Maybe, but it's like being an undercover agent, you don't want too many people to know who you are." he went on. "Anyway, I get my fee, and that keeps the world going around for us!"

    "But you're away so much, at night ." It was a plaintive plea.

    "Hell, that's part of the job! You knew that, when we got married!" he barked.

    She hadn't wanted to start an argument over it, again, so she backed away from it. Anyway, the skirmishes had been going on, ever since they'd gotten married, two years ago.

    Alec was older than she was, quite a lot older, really. He was thirty-six, a few day before their wedding, and she had been about six weeks short of twenty; however, nothing would change her mind about marrying him. She had been sure that their difference in ages would never be a real problem.

    Well, she had been mistaken. Alec had been a bachelor for too long to be domesticated easily. His habits, his working schedule and his attitudes were too deeply ingrained, and Brandy, in her naivete had thought she could change him.

    It was sheer foolishness, she had found out, especially when she had had to face the reality that Alec could-and probably did-on occasion, hop into bed with some other woman. She remembered her disbelief, that first time, when she had become suspicious of him. Her husband had denied it, but there was the evidence: Lipstick, the dark hairs on his jacket, but even more damning, when she found them the next day in his car, was the diaphanous bra and the sheer, nylon panties! He lied to her. She was sure of it, when he had told her, blandly, that it only seemed to look damaging. It had all been a part of his work!

    Fervently, she had wanted to believe him, and in a way, she did; after all, she loved her husband, hating what he was doing to make a living and not wanting these things, he explained so easily, to come between them. In the end, he always ended up taking her to bed and making passionate love to her. Alec was a virile, potent man, and if he were engaging in some clandestine, extra-marital sex, it sure didn't affect his desire for her.

    In a way, that was the trouble. He was almost more than she could handle, as far as sex went. It seemed he was always wanting it, wanting to make love to her, sometimes at the oddest times,

    Unbidden, her luminous China-blue eyes brimmed over with tears, remembering how it had been just two nights ago. Ever since they had been married, Alec had been trying to make love to her in ways that seemed unnatural, even perverted to her, but she hadn't reached the point, yet of letting him do some of those revolting things. Then, as she had thought about it, she had decided, If I'm going to keep my husband, keep him from straying, I'd better learn to d-do, some of those far- out things!

    She tossed her long, golden blonde hair back over her shoulders, using her hand to brush some of the stray hairs back as she went about getting her lonely meal ready.

    Gulping down his dinner, that evening, two nights ago, Alec had rushed off, telling her that he had a good lead on some new evidence. It was a currently hot case he was working on, and his interest in it was intense.

    But, it was when he had arrived back home, at three in the morning, that she remembered most painfully. She had heard him park the car, in the carport; glancing at the bedside clock, she had noted the time. It was an ungodly hour. Somehow she resented it. Why can't he work at an eight-to-five job, like most other people do? It was her strait-laced, conformingly structured mind at work.

    As Alec came into the bedroom, the reeking fumes of alcohol preceded him. He was drunk, again. Brandy sat up in bed and snapped on the bedside lamp, her deep-seated feelings of resentment rising even higher in her. He reeled over to the side of the bed and flopped down on the edge.

    "Hello, darlin', I'm home!" he smiled, crookedly.

    "It's about time!" she said, coldly. "It's after three in the morning."

    "Sure, I know what time it is!, And you ought to be glad to see me! I got it all wrapped up, tonight!"

    "Why don't you tell me about it, in the morning, when you're sober!" Brandy suggested, stretching out again, and pulling up the sheet.

    "Hey! You don't get it, Baby! I got something to celebrate about!" He reached out for her, roughly, to take her into his arms. "And I'm going to wind up the celebration, with you!"

    "No, please! Wait Alec, until later!"

    Instantly, his anger boiled over. "Like hell, I'll wait! I came home to you, like a good husband, and I'll be damned ... if I'll be put off" He hauled her up to him, forcefully slamming his mouth down on hers, like some savage animal, his tongue splaying her lips, as it shot into her mouth, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.

    But, Brandy was having none of that, at that horrible hour of the morning and with her husband in such a drunken state. She tried to writhe away from him, to escape his mauling hands on her body and his plundering tongue in her mouth.

    Finally, she could twist her head away, breaking the unwanted kiss, and pleaded with him. "Darling, Alec, darling, please... wait?"

    Her husband had pinned her to the bed. She was helpless. His hands were all over her, at first he pulled the sheet from her, then her filmy nightgown. She was stark naked, on the bed ... but still she resisted him, stoutly, as he clutched and squeezed at her soft, sensitive flesh, his fingers digging, cruelly, into the pliant mounds of her full-orbed breasts. He was like a madman, and she didn't know how to cope with him.

    Then, as she had watched in helpless horror, Alec had pulled off his own clothing, stripping himself naked in a matter of moments, and she saw his fully erect penis, standing out, rampantly, from his hairy loins; it was throbbing, hotly, with his sudden, furiously insane passion. She knew then that there was no escaping him. He would take her by force, make her do it, with him, whether she wanted to or not. My God! My own h- husband, is going to r- rape me!

    Alec dropped his weight down on his wife's cringing body, wrenching her fear-trembling thighs apart and pressing the white, lusciously tapering columns back against her breasts. He was breathing hard, and animal-like grunting sounds came from deep in his throat.

    Desperately, she begged him, further. "OOoohh, Alec! Please? N-Not, this way! Please, D-Don't d-do it t-to me, like this!"

    "Not this way, my way, or any other God damned way, I suppose, if you had your way about it, isn't that right ?" he growled.

    "No, th-that's not, t-true."

    "Bull crap! You just don't like sex, and that's what keeps me the most frustrated son-of-a-bitch I know!" he spat, his handsome face a leering mask of lust, as he added, "Christ! I was getting laid more, when I was single!"

    Wedging his hips between her lovely thighs, he snaked his hand down between them to grasp the pulsating shaft of his massively hardened cock. Abruptly, she felt the smooth, blunt head of his penis, as he used it to spread the soft, tender flesh of her cuntal opening. Then, crudely, he drew the bulbous head up through her unprepared furrow, to find her tiny cli, hidden in its fleshy folds at the top of her female slit.

    "Oh, God, Alec, why are you d-doing this t-to me?" she sobbed.

    He had laughed a hard, cruel laugh. "Because, Mrs. Berg, I've got a God damned right to fuck you! You've turned me off, with so many damned excuses, that I'm fed up ... right up to my eye-balls!"

    Rubbing the satin-smooth head of his cock against her cli, savagely, sending little, jolting spasms of unwanted arousal through her and reveling in his debasement of his lovely wife, he went on, "And, now, I'm going to fuck the hell out of you, for the last time, maybe, but Baby, you'll know you've been fucked!"

    Brandy tried to make sense out of his drunken, coarse language ... and the message that came over to her was: He's thinking about ... l-leaving m-me!

    "Alec! Oh, Alec, darling, you know I-I love you! I couldn't stand t-to lose you!"

    "It's getting pretty damned late, to be worrying about that isn't it?" he spat out, thickly.

    Then, with drunken, unfocusing eyes, her husband had looked down at her wide-splayed loins, placed the lust-inflated head of his cock at her vaginal opening and lunged into her with all his strength, to drive his aching prick deep into the softness of her cringing, unready cuntal passage.

    "AAAAaaaaaauuuuuooooohhhhhh!" she had cried out in pain, as his impaling shaft had gored deep into her tender belly. She felt as if some medieval instrument of torture had been poked into her ... after having been heated to flesh-searing temperature.

    It seemed to her that his plundering cock had torn into her, scraping the tender walls of her cunt raw, and she could feel the abraded flesh of her cuntal sheath as it was squeezed and pulled, desperately, around and ahead of the throbbing, bulbous head of it. It was horrible for her, and all she could think was: It's Alec, my husband, d-doing it! But, she couldn't believe it!

[Lois]

With a desperation, born of fear, she attempted to squirm her hips down and away from the impaling shaft of his lust-filled prick, but there was no escaping it. He kept pushing deeper and deeper, forcing it into the warm, unreceptive depths of her cunt rolling waves of her tender flesh before his rampaging cock.

Lying there, helplessly dominated, under her husband, Alec, she shed tears of pain, shock, humiliation, feeling as if she had been split in two, by the forcefully brutal entry. Worse, though, she wasn't able to understand his horrible reasoning, an insane reasoning that had led him to this unnecessary and cruel rape.

"Oh, God, Alec!" she groaned, as he had pressed her thighs back even farther and began to grind into her with animal-like, netting thrusts. "Take it, ea-easy! Please, d-don't h-hurt me, any more!" Oh, God, Why? Why? WHY?

In Alec's drunken, alcoholic daze, he was in no mood for gentleness, as she lay under him, completely helpless, defenseless against his merciless ravishment. He pounded his huge thick cock into her with pulverizing force, while his hands roughly kneaded and dug into the softly resilient flesh of her breasts. She knew, without doubt, that his cruel hands were bruising the tender breast-flesh, and she whimpered in pain, beneath him.

Unmercifully, he thrust in and out of her now moistening cuntal sheath, paying absolutely no attention ho her wailing tears and pathetic pleadings, skewering her even harder to raise additional whimpers of pain with every goring in-thrust.

Then, up inside of her, she felt it; it was the kindling warmth of sexual arousal, and she found herself attempting to move her hips up against him, wanting his plunging cock, now. She was sore, her delicate tissues, inside her vaginal passage burning with the abrasions of his abrupt entry into her unprepared cuntal sheath. It hurt beyond reason, but still she felt suddenly afire with a great keening sensation that was growing with building pressure to an ecstatic sensuality. It seemed as though she could feel every hardened ridge of his ferally throbbing shaft ... and it was getting bigger and bigger, expanding and pulsing deep inside her belly with every ramming stroke.

Her whole mind and body concentrated on it then. All she could think of was its enormity and the rapture it gave her, as he rampaged deep into her, his hardened cock seeming to soar high up into her, filling her completely with its potently turgid massiveness.

Brandy couldn't believe that it could happen, lying beneath her husband, being forced, against her will-raped was the right word, she had decided-and being brought to the heights of rapture by it. God! It was building, building, and she knew it could happen,

But it didn't!

Suddenly, Alec stopped. He held himself rigid and immobile over her, his face contorted with a mask of pure lust as his expanding cock spewed forth its liquid cargo of hot, white sperm. She felt the jerking motion deep up inside her as his ejaculation pumped wildly to splash his cum deep up into her now hotly accepting vaginal passage.

"Oh, God, Alec, darling!" she wailed desperately. "Don't, st-top, now!"

She had squirmed her throbbing pussy up against him as she lay helplessly frustrated under her husband, trying to re- establish the lost rhythm, to regain the ramming potency of his hard cock deep up inside her. Then, she was clutching at him, as she realized that he had cum to his orgasm, and that now his hard tumescence would disappear, leaving his cock a flaccid, useless-to her-tube of softened male flesh.

"Darling, Darling, p-please, keep it up, a-and...."

"AAaauugh!" he grunted, concerned only with his own satisfaction, as he reveled in the ecstatic sensations of his spewing cock.

Then, her husband collapsed on top of her. He was relaxed, satiated, and no sooner had his head lowered to the pillow than he drifted off to sleep, his hardened shaft of flesh, sunk deeply in her needful cuntal passage becoming rapidly detumescent, and there was nothing for Brandy Berg. Nothing!

Squirming from beneath Alec's sleep-deadened body, she rolled over to her side of the bed, shedding hot tears of real sexual frustration. OOoooh! I was getting, s-so close!

She lay there, wide-eyed, miserable, her abdomen blood- swollen and aroused, attempting to sort out her thoughts, but her mind whirled in chaotic disorganization. She was unable to pin down anything important, except that she knew now that everything in her marriage would come tumbling down. H-He threatened, t-to leave m-me,

Finally, after hours, it seemed, she slept fitfully, awakening once at daybreak to pull the sheet up over her snoring husband.

At mid-morning, when Alec finally got out of bed, showered and came into the kitchen where Brandy was seated drinking a third cup of coffee, he was a different man, from the maniac, who only a few hours earlier had raped her, unmercifully.

"Good morning, darling," he said rather sheepishly, "I guess I really got a snoot full, last night."

Brandy looked up at her husband, unsmilingly, "You were drunker, than I've ever seen you!"

"I don't even remember driving home." he said. "Lucky I didn't have an accident, or something."

She looked up at him, disbelieving. "Y-You don't remember?"

"No, I can't seem to remember anything, after about two on the morning, everything else is blacked out!"

"Then, you were drunker, even than I thought!" My God! Then, he doesn't remember, wh-what he d-did to m-me! She stared at him, not knowing what to say, or even to think.

"What's wrong, Brandy?" Alec asked.

"N-Nothing, nothing at all!" she said, covering up her astonishment. "What would you like to have for breakfast?"

"Some tomato juice, to start off with."

She had to believe it. He doesn't remember!

But there is some truth, even in the words of a drunken man, And, he inferred, h-he was going to leave me! But, maybe now, I've got another chance, t-to be, the kind of, loving wife, he w-wants me, to be!



"But you don't understand, Claire." Mickey explained. "Harry's ironing out the details now, on the Championship bout ... and it'll probably come off, in about two more months!"

"Then you are going to stay here, to train for it?" she queried, surveying him through dark grey eyes, her brow wrinkled in a frown.

"I have to; this is where Harry wants me to workout."

"Well, do we have to stay here in Santa Monica?" Claire tossed her jet-black hair, as she swept her eyes around the apartment, Mickey had picked out for them.

"No, not really."

"I'm going to find a place I like!"

"Do you mean, you're going to stay, this time?"

"Yes, darling, but I'm going to live in the kind of place I want, instead of this!" She was derisive.

"Okay, go ahead!" Mickey couldn't believe what he had heard. His wife was really going to stay with him, and maybe ... just maybe, he could convince Harry that living like a normal man, with his wife, while he was training, wouldn't hurt him. Hell! Sex burns up less energy than boxing one round, and it'll sure make me a lot happier, to have Claire with me!

Of course, Mickey knew that his wife was headstrong, and that there was a strong streak of selfishness in her, but he overlooked those two things, in favor of something more positive, for Claire was definitely a sexy woman, beautiful almost to perfection, and she did try to please him, most of the time. That's why Mickey put up with the rest of it, otherwise, But, Damn! Trina's something else, a real sex-pot!

Guiltily, he remembered what that little session with the hot blooded girl had resulted in, and he wasn't pleased with himself, at all! But, Christ, I was desperate, for a piece of ass! That's why he was so glad that Claire was going to stay with him. I won't have to go looking for it, It'll be right there, when I want it!

Mickey hadn't told Harry Nash about the blackmail thing, at least not yet; he was waiting to see what Alec Berg would come up with, as far as finding out who it was, then, he'd turn it over to the police and the Boxing Commission. Goddamnit, if I told Harry, he'd blow it wide open, and I can't let him do that yet! Those damned goons said they'd kill me, if the police were brought in on it!

There was no doubt in his own mind about his courage, or lack of it. It just wasn't wise to match his fists against a bunch of gun-carrying hoods. If I ever get the chance, though, However, it was unlikely that he'd ever get a chance at one of them, alone; they always came in pairs.

And, of course, he hadn't told Claire, for very obvious reasons. Damn, when they get to her, finally, there's going to be all hell to pay!



Claire went apartment hunting. She found exactly what she wanted, in Corona del Mar!

Mickey was appalled when she told him, on two counts: The location! Christ! Trina Dawes lives down there, somewhere! He tried to fix the location in his mind but drew a blank. Secondly: The price he was going to have to pay for a fully furnished apartment made him flinch, but he wasn't going to object. It would end up in an argument, so he just bit his tongue and said, "Okay, darling, if that's what you really want, we'll rent it and move into it."

"It's a lovely place!" Claire gushed. "And it's in a perfect location, with a view of the Ocean."

They moved in the next day.



"I've just come to California." Claire confessed to the auburn-haired woman who sat across from her.

They were in a plush cocktail lounge, drinking a leisurely martini, at Trina's invitation. Trina had spotted Claire Pearson that afternoon in her favorite Hairdresser's Salon.

Like many prostitutes, Trina didn't really like men. She tolerated them, but she really got her best kicks with women. Actually, she swung both ways, almost equally. Men provided her with the necessities, and many of the luxuries of life, but with another beautiful woman,

She had found it easy to strike up a conversation with the black-haired beauty who was obviously a stranger. Claire was appreciative of her easy, friendly ways, the sparkling conversation, the invitation to an afternoon cocktail, and so, there they were. Trina seemed to have a sixth sense about things like this. She knew it would be easy to get her new friend up to her apartment. After that, well, Trina knew what to do, It would be a nice afternoon interlude before the evening's work.

"I just know you'll love it, here!" Trina told her, her grey- green eyes smoldering over the rim of her glass.

Claire felt a little uneasy, but she decided that it was just friendliness, and the alcohol that caused Trina's eyes to do those things.

And, later, after the second round of drinks, when Trina made the pitch to her, about coming over to her apartment, to relax, listen to some wild records, and get to know each other better, Claire had some second thoughts. She really should be home when Mickey got back; he'd had to go into L.A. for some kind of conference.

"You can leave, any time you want to, but I think it'd be groovy, you know." Trina smiled, mysteriously.

In the back of her mind, Claire knew that she was being picked up, yet there was something perverse in her that told her to go along with the act, experience something new! It was her headstrong stubbornness getting in the way of rational thought. If I don't like the way things are going, after we get to her apartment, I'll just walk out!, After all, she couldn't force me to do, something I didn't want to do!

And there was her curiosity. She'd heard of women who loved other women, but except for a passing attraction another girl had for her, when she was in high school, Claire had never experienced a woman-woman relationship. She remembered that Helen ... that girlfriend, back in Omaha had wanted to rub and massage her breasts, and there had been some kissing. It hadn't gone beyond that. Still, as memory flooded back, she had known, even then, that they had been on the verge of discovering more of their sexuality. There was the warm tingle in her breasts, still remembered, when Helen had kissed them, and that uncomfortable moistness between her legs, and yes, there had been sexual stimulation. She knew now, what it had been.

Helen had moved away, she thought, or was it that she had discovered boys. They were more exciting, and it hadn't taken Claire long to find out why, She hadn't thought about women as sex-objects, until this very moment, when Trina had suggested going to her apartment, to get better acquainted! She was not that naïve! She knew what the implications were in that loaded invitation!

In Trina's apartment they shared another drink. Claire was beginning to feel the effects of them; her head whirled, eyes refused to focus properly, and she felt exhilaration and a high sense of adventure, as she wondered when things were going to start happening. Churning, warmly, in her belly was a tiny spark of anticipating sensuality, waiting there to be fanned into full- blown passionate desire. It was a new feeling; one she had never before experienced.

They chattered, listened to a record or two, and then the drinks were finished. Trina put her glass down on the low coffee table, decisively. There's no point, in wasting any more time!

Direct, as always, Trina seated on the couch next to Claire, leaned over to her, put her arms around the black-haired woman and kissed her, using her tongue, worming it, gently, between the other woman's lips and into her mouth to dart, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.

Even though she had expected it, when it came, Claire was surprised, and shocked. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, succeeding, finally, in twisting her mouth to the side to break the deep, warmly passionate kiss.

She gasped, "Really, Trina! Wh-What, are you doing? What do you, w-want?"

"You know what I want! You!" Trina hissed, her grey-green eyes burning into Claire's dark orbs, as her tiny, warmly avid hand went out to caress the fullness of a soft breast through her clothing.

"Do you, m-mean?"

"I want you, your lovely body! I want to make love to you!" Trina told her, her voice husky and low.

Suddenly, in the face of the other woman's savage desire, she felt panic, and fear, a fear that she had overstepped the bounds, that she was in deeper water than she could handle.

"I-I couldn't, do that!" Claire gasped. "My husband, I-I...."

"He'd never need to know."

"But, I-I love, him!"

"Men! What do they know about love, about what really turns a woman on?"

"It j-just seems, so."

"Wrong?" Trina finished, tossing her au burn hair back. "You'll never know, what it's like, to be turned on, really, until you've been loved, that way, by another woman! Because she's a woman, she knows what to do, what not to do."

Then, as Trina's hand drifted down across her flat abdomen and began to squirm its way down into the angle of her thighs, pressing in against the curling, down-covered mound through the light layers of her clothing, Claire felt a sudden, leaping thrill- sensation surge warmly through her loins, seeming to center down there, between her now trembling thighs, signaling a prelude to forbidden pleasures. Her body wanted to leap for joy, to plunge in, experience all, but her reasoning mind was there, censoring the lewdly lubricious, sexually oriented signals, telling her: This isn't what you want, really! Remember, you can just walk away from it! You promised!

Claire's own hand followed Trina's, grasped it in an attempt to pull it away, stop the other woman from going too far. Desperately, she murmured, "I've got, to g-go home, be there... when my husband."

"Fuck your husband! He can wait, his turn!" Trina spat, her lips twisting around the obscenity, lewdly.

Claire was shocked. She had never heard a woman use words like that! She had heard the crudity from boys she had gone out with ... and from her husband, Mickey, but no woman she had ever known had used the lewd word. Her face crimsoned with an unbidden blush. She gaped at the delicately beautiful, auburn-tressed woman, in disbelief, who had rapped it out so brazenly.

Seeing her shocked surprise, Trina went on, "I was married once, when I was seventeen, too damned young, to know what was going on! All men are alike, I think, All they want to do is screw! Climb on top of you, shove a hard cock between your legs, ramming it into your cunt, whether you're ready or not, and not giving a damn whether you want it! All they care about is their own precious, male egos, thinking once they're married, that they own you!, Then, they'll just fuck you, shoot their load into you, and if you cum, it's good, but if you don't, Well, tough titty! Then, you're left to worry, about pregnancy, and not cumming, while the big, selfish son-of-a-bitch, goes to sleep, leaving you with nothing but a sore cunt, and the possibility of getting caught with a baby! And, all the time, what you really wanted was some real loving, not just fucking! There's a difference ... and they're not very many men, who know how to love a woman!" It was a long tirade that Trina spat out in her hate and frustration, her vengefulness contorting her beautiful face as she spoke.

Somehow, Claire knew that she was facing a truth. She could have recited the same story, without the obscenities coloring it. There was an exception: She had tried to learn to respond to Mickey, and thought she was working toward a good sex life with him, when he was home. But God, he's home so seldom!, Always going off to train somewhere, for a fight, leaving me alone, almost half the time!

A flash of insight, the germ of an idea began to ricochet around inside her skull. Maybe there was a partial answer, here ... to the loneliness she experienced, when Mickey was in training camp. She rejected the borning idea almost as soon as it materialized in her mind and became words. No! God, Wh-What am I thinking about? Take a woman, l-lover, when Mickey's gone!? No! NO! NOOOOO!

There was that moist warmth between her legs, the tremulant, keening sensations that were racing through her, and she didn't want it.

Struggling to her feet, she swayed, dizzily, finding her legs shaky, almost unable to support her weight. She had to leave, get away from Trina before,

Soft, female arms were around her, supporting her, and leading her somewhere. Where? She was in a bedroom, being helped onto the bed, and Trina's voice came to her, soothingly, through the pounding in her head.

"Everything's going to be all right, Baby." Trina crooned. "You'll see, It'll be out of this world, for you."

Looking down at the lovely woman on her bed, Trina Dawes knew that it was time, now, to make it with the confused girl, give her something she'd remember. Hell, she doesn't know, what she wants, at this point! It had been easier than she'd thought, to get Claire into bed. Of course, the drinks helped ... She smiled to herself. But, maybe she was ready for it, and didn't know it! Like, maybe, it was lucky for her that I came along, and just sort of nudged her over the brink, It seemed to her that Claire was hotter, more ready and more receptive than any woman she had ever seduced.

Not hurrying, Trina stood up and began to take off her clothes, posing provocatively, seductively, as she did so, knowing that Claire couldn't help but watch. She was a practiced expert,

Fascinated, in fact, almost hypnotized, Claire Pearson watched the other woman strip off her encumbering garments, to reveal the loveliness of her soft, clear-skinned body, the voluptuousness of her curvaceously delicate figure, and she wondered, even as she watched, with a feeling of revulsion for what she knew would soon follow, wondered what it would feel like to have another woman's body in intimate contact with her own. How, would it be?

Then, standing naked, there, beside the bed, Trina allowed her hands to roam over her own body, reassuringly, cupping up her luscious, full breasts, caressingly, rolling the delicate, pink nipples to spiky erection; finally, a hand slid down across the flatness of her smooth white belly to the triangle of her pubic mound, lightly covered with curling, auburn hair that gleamed like polished bronze, where she slipped a finger into the moist pinkness of her woman's slit to tease at her own erectly alert cli. She shivered, erotically, with the wild sensations her own finger caused.

"OOooh, that's soooo nice." she breathed. "Have you ... ever done that, to yourself, darling?"

Mutely, Claire affirmed it with a little wag of her head.

Sidling onto the bed, beside her, Trina ran her hands over Claire's softly rounded body, her warm hands sending tiny thrills coursing through her.

"Now, let's get you stripped, too." Trina cooed, beginning already to unbutton buttons.

Not understanding why, Claire allowed herself, dazedly, to be disrobed, even helping a little, until she, too lay on the bed stark naked.

"Oh, lovely." Trina breathed, stretching out beside the black-haired beauty of Claire's equally luscious body, her hands going out to caress and fondle a full-orbed breast and reveling in the smooth pliancy of the soft, silky skin. Deftly, she teased a cameo-pink nipple into erect hardness, her mouth following to suck and nibble while her hand taunted at the opposite one.

It all felt so good. The first electric contact of Trina's hands made her all shivery, the tingling sensations almost more than she could stand, and she knew, then, that there would be no retreat, no running away from it. She had to know, and experience, because now, she wanted more than anything else in the world; indeed she had passed beyond wanting, to needing.

Once again, her mind, dictator-like, tried to haul in a close rein on her sensation-filled body, telling her to deny this forbidden experience. It's unnatural, perverted!

"Oh, God, Trina I-I can't! I just, c-can't!" she strangled out.

"Yes, you can!" Trina's voice was low, intense. "Let me teach you, Just relax, and let me show you how."

Turning Claire to face her, on the bed, the more experienced Trina clamped her body to the other woman's, mashing their breasts together, her mouth seeking and finding her lipstick-smeared lips and pressing her own sensuous mouth against them in a gentle, non- demanding kiss. She tasted the salt of Claire's tears, and knew what it was the other woman was feeling, remembering the first time she, herself, had lain in another woman's arms.

Gradually, Claire relaxed against her, her arms going out to Trina and their kiss was fired with passion. Trina's tongue snaked out, slowly, to run in sensuous, little circles, rimming her lips with sensation-producing lubricity. Busily, then her hands teased and taunted the other's curvaceous body, caressing, fondling, smoothing and massaging, swarming over her voluptuous contours, like a swarm of hungry insects, her own great need welling up in her, uncontrollably, But, she held back, not wanting to do anything that would disturb Claire. Don't rush it, damn it! Get her worked up, to the point, where she'll be climbing the walls for it!

More and more, Claire began to respond to Trina. There was an unaccountable thrill that she began to feel, an intensely erotic feeling that was being generated in her by the soft femaleness of her seducer's lovely body. Shyly, she rubbed her hands down Trina's smooth back and over the soft fullness of her buttocks. It was like caressing herself!

Pulling away, slightly, she had a distinct urge to touch Trina's breasts. Her hand came up between them, and she cupped the other's velvet-skinned titty, caressingly, feeling it's softly resilient mound, that was so much like her own. She felt the coned out nipple, hard in the palm of her hand; then, Trina sighed, shudderingly, and she realized that she had been the cause of it.

Now, their avidly hungry mouths were welded together in a mutual, deep kiss, as tongues darted in and out, tastingly, and their hands began to explore, caressingly: Trina with sure knowledge, and Claire with the timid sense of a neophyte. All the while, the fires of sensuality in their loins raged into uncontrollable, licking flames of desire. Claire moaned in helplessness. There was nothing more she could do to stop it, now ... but desperately, she broke the deep, soul kiss.

"I've, n-never, cheated on my h-husband." she murmured, trying to make one last, feeble protest.

"But, I'd bet he's cheated on you!" Trina grated, vehemently. "Most men do, sooner or later, and they sure as hell don't think about you, when they're shoving a hard cock ... between another woman's legs!"

Trina's language jolted her, again, and she recoiled. That was the main reason she'd changed her mind and flew out to Los Angeles, from Omaha after Mickey had canceled his own flight home. The fight was over. He had won it, and he was free on the town. Did he find another woman, and take her to bed? Oh, I-I'll newer know!

"But it's almost, the s-same."

"It's not the same!" Trina shot out. "This is woman-woman love!"

"I'll change, somehow, and he'll."

"No! You can swing both ways, just like I do, only I get more kicks when I'm with another woman!"

"You mean?"

"He'll never know, darling, It'll be our secret!"

Almost savagely, Trina recaptured Claire's lips, her voracious mouth devouring the sweetness of them, while below, she thrust her own, white, curvaceous thigh up between the trembling, tapering columns of the black-haired beauty she had entrapped, spreading them apart and insinuating her loins in close until the two soft pubic mounds met, Trina's auburn-haired one grinding in against the curling darkness of Claire's with wildly excited abandon.

Reaching over her, Trina pulled the full orbs of Claire's buttocks in tight to her, then that same hand, trailed downward in the soft crevice, going in the back way, to find the moist pinkness of her vaginal opening. She paused there, slipping a tiny finger into the bedewed vestibule to moisten it before it moved onward to find her sensitively erect cli. She found it hard, throbbingly sensate, and with a woman's sure knowledge, rubbed it caressingly, and ever so gently. She smiled with lewd satisfaction, as she felt the convulsive shock in the other woman's body.

Then, Claire was aware that Trina her woman-lover, was slithering down her body, while at the same time, gently rolling her over to her back, splaying out her legs with her thigh, her mouth working, hungrily on her aching breasts, kissing and sucking, moving the hardened nipples in and out of her mouth in quick tempo, as she maintained a constant sucking pressure. Arcing sensations grounded in her loins, as Trina's hands, too, kneaded and massaged at her curvaceous softness. Dimly, Claire remembered that all of this was wrong, forbidden, but as her sensation-tortured nerve endings responded to the auburn-haired woman who was seducing her, she found it difficult to know why it was forbidden. She was filled with the most exquisite ecstasy she had ever known. Never had it ever been like this, with her husband, Mickey!

Uncontrollably, Claire's hips began to undulate in tiny, grinding circles under her, as the delightfully erotic sensations keened, surgingly, through her, and she knew that it was the end of her resistance. Trina could do anything with her, now,

"OOoohh." she moaned, helplessly. "Oh, Goddddd!"

Trina's hungrily teasing lips began moving down, now, moistly, through the defile, between the soft mounds of her breasts, over her ribs, her flat belly, the agile, taunting tongue pausing to swirl in and out of her navel, and then Claire felt her thighs being spread apart, by gentle female hands, to expose the palpitating flesh of her cuntal furrow to the other woman's salacious gaze.

Crawling between Claire's legs, Trina's hands kneaded the satiny flesh of her inner thighs, her mouth following, ever downward, and Claire moaned with excited anticipation, as she divined what was coming next.

Closer, Trina's mouth worked toward the pulsating hungering portal of her cunt, and just before the other woman's soft mouth gained her exciting goal, Claire had a disquieting thought. Somehow, she knew, in the instant that Trina's mouth made electrifying contact with her pulsing, cuntal flesh, she would be changed, just as she had been changed, when she had given up her virginity. Weren't Lesbians different, somehow, from other women?

Now, suddenly, it was there! That tantalizing, licking, lovely and soul-destroying tongue was there, teasing at her sensitive cli, and sending ecstatic sensations of sexual pleasure to her brain, and wildly stimulated body.

And then, as Trina's tongue danced little pirouettes on the palpitating bud, then shifted, after a moment or two to dart, sinuously, into the liquid, coralline portal of her cuntal passage, Claire knew that there was nothing else like it in this world. It was a rhapsody of carnal sensation, but her taboo- instilled mind would not let go, even as her body responded, her hips gyrating up to Trina's mouth in mute supplication, wanting more of it, more of everything.

"Oh, God, Trina! N-No! Noooooo!"

Pausing for a moment, Trina took her mouth away, long enough to say, "It's yes, Baby, and you know it! Relax and enjoy it, all the way!"

"B-But, it's, d-dirty!" Claire wailed in anguish.

"And, you've loved every minute of it, haven't you?" Trina countered and, her head sank down between Claire's trembling, alabaster-white thighs to the sensate, pink flesh of her involuntarily pulsing cunt, her tongue plunging deep into the liquid depths of her lust-incited pussy.

She thrust her tongue in and out in flicking, measured tempo, matching the rhythm that Claire's grinding hips had already set, fucking in and out, almost like a man's ravaging cock.

Beneath Trina's teasingly educated tongue, Claire, unable any longer to control her body, or think a rational thought, knew that it was true! She had loved every minute of her seduction by the lovely, auburn-tressed Trina. God! She had to have it now ... had to have that marvelous tongue doing those wonderful things to her, licking and sucking at her tremulant, sensation-seared cunt!

Throwing all caution to the winds, conscious only of the arcing, high-voltage flash of desire that burned, sparkingly, in her naked, now upturned loins, Claire cried out, in anguished desperation, "Oh, OOooh, OOOooohhh, yesssss! Trina yes! M-Make me c-cum!"

Trina's mouth stopped, and Claire heard her muffled voice ask, "You want me, to keep on, like this, until you cum?"

"Y-Yes!" Claire gasped. "Oh, yesssssssss!"

"Let's go that one better, Baby Doll! I'm hot, too, you know, so let's make it, together!"

"Wh-What do you, m-mean?" Claire was desperate, her hips undulating up to find Trina's mouth, again.

"Do each other, at the same time!"

"H-How?"

"You just do the same thing to me, that I've been doing to you!"

"But I've n-never!" Claire cried.

"Now's the time to learn, then!" Trina told her, firmly.

Quickly Trina reversed her position. Her lovely, tapering thighs straddled Claire's face, while her own head was poised over the darkly curling down at the cusp of her thighs.

Startled, Claire looked straight up into the moistly pink flesh of Trina's cuntal furrow, softly and sparsely ringed by her auburn pubic hair, where it hung, tauntingly only inches above her sensuous lips. Suddenly, it was clear to her what she must do, if she were to cum to her rapturous orgasm that beckoned her, just out of reach.

They were in the sixty-nine position. Claire had heard about it. It was the classic position of mutual, oral-genital sex, but never would she have thought that she would be doing it, in this bizarre position. God, How did I get into this?

With a swivel-hipped undulation, Trina's vibrantly needful pussy came down to a firm, electrifying contact with Claire's mouth; while, at the same time, her own head nuzzled in between the other's thighs, again, to find her throbbingly sensate cli. Her tongue lashed out to lick the pulsing bud with voracious sensuality.

Feeling suffocated, trapped, Claire's first impulse was to scream, but when Trina's tongue contacted the quiveringly sensitive flesh of her cunt, it brought a long, mewling moan of complete, sexual surrender from deep in her chest, causing her to lift her head up against the warm, fleshy furrow above her, her tongue darting out, experimentally to find Trina's hardened little cli. Timidly, she licked at it, and felt the shuddering convulsion in Trina's body, that told her more eloquently than words the effect it had on the auburn-haired woman.

Then, flicking her tongue into the moistness of Trina's vaginal opening, she was surprised to find the taste of it slightly pungent and not at all distasteful, and as Trina's tongue plunged in and out of her, below, in imitation of a virile, fucking cock, Claire began to match her, until they had established a mutual rhythm, their tongues a pair of surrogate cocks in their heatedly sensual cunts.

And, together, they spiraled toward the heights of release, as tongues licked and mouths sucked, hands grasped and caressed, hips ground and mouths gasped and mewled out moans and groans of mutual sex-pleasure.

Suddenly, Claire was mouthing words up into the moist cunt- flesh, between the thighs, gyrating above her.

"OOooh! That feels, s-so good! Don't stop, doing it!"

From below, between her own trembling legs, she heard Trina's counterpointing chant, dim and muffled.

"Eat me! Eat me, good, darling! Eat my, hot little pussy!"

Their bodies intertwined, heaving and writhing, together, mutually giving and receiving, the two women arrived at the apogee of rapture, release in orgasm.

Claire Pearson felt it begin, for her, in the exquisitely shuddering convulsions of her body that caused her to spasm in release, as wave after surging wave of ecstatic rapture broke over her sensation-filled loins, spreading through her in relaxing, euphoric impulses of pure sexual pleasure.

"AAAAAAaaaaauuuuugggghhhh! III'mmmm cuuuuummmmiiiinnng! AAAAAaaaaauuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh!"

Above her, Trina ground her hips tight against Claire's face, with wild abandon, her voice, mingling with Claire's in an ancient chant of completion and satisfaction that announced the arrival of her moment of rapture.

"OOOoooohhhhh, My Godddddd! Eat me! Eat me! Eat me! AAAAAaaaaauuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhh!"

Trina collapsed on top of Claire, momentarily, then rolled off, reversing herself, again to stretch out beside her, her arms going out to clasp the black-haired beauty to her and clamping her mouth to Claire's in a long, deeply passionate kiss, as the last of the spasming, convulsive waves of orgasm left them drained, and satiated.

"God! I flipped, right out of my skull!" Trina declared with a little gasp.

Claire could only moan, "OOOooohhh! It was, out of this world!"

As Trina snuggled in close to her, her hands beginning to trail, caressingly, over her body again, Claire began to regain some of her composure, and her mind was functioning, attempting to sort out her new options. One thing was sure: She'd have to get away from Trina go home, where she could really think things through.

"Claire, honey, we could really have a thing." Trina murmured.

"Trina Please? I've got to get home! It's getting late, and I've got to have time, to think."

"Then, I'll see you, tomorrow?"

"I-I don't know, maybe." Claire told her, sitting up and gathering up her garments. "I'm really, in a whirl, I can't think straight, about anything."

Trina didn't press her. She knew it was better that way, but next time,

"Let me give you my address, and telephone number." Trina suggested, reaching out to get pen and pencil from her purse. She scribbled her name, Trina and her address, followed by her telephone number and handed it to Claire, who put the scrap of paper, absently, into her own purse.

"You can call me, or come over, any time you want." Trina added, "because, there's a lot more I can show you!" It was a mysterious promise.

"Such as?" Claire asked, her curiosity rising.

"Next time." Trina breathed. "The next time, together!"



The "conference" Mickey drove up to L A. for was with Alec Berg. He sat across the desk from the private investigator, while Alec ran down the list of information he had gathered so far.

"I haven't been able to locate Trina Dawes, yet," he told the boxer, "but she could be using another name."

"Yeah, I hadn't thought of that." Mickey admitted.

"Now, here's what I've got on Mick Stansfield," Alec said, referring to his notes. "He was born in Idaho, about fifty- years old. Bachelor, at least he isn't married, right now. Good rating with Dunn and Bradstreet, President of a pleasure boat building company, Extensive holdings in electronics, And, this is important! He has a string of race horses, Makes the racing circuit, and is a big bettor whether his horses are running or not, and." Alec paused, significantly, "he's a fight fan! Attends almost all the important bouts!"

"Which means," Mickey said, thoughtfully, "if he's betting the horses, he's also betting on the fights.

"Exactly!"

"Is he into any of the fight stables, own any boxer's contracts?"

"If he does, I haven't been able to dig it out, yet!" Alec grunted. "It would sure fit together, and all I'd have to do is connect one of those bully boys with him, and Trina and we could bust it wide open!" the detective speculated.

"But, right now, there's nothing to tie him into it... is that right?"

"That's the hell of it, I'm just making a wild guess!" Berg confessed. "There's not a damned thing to connect him with anything, except that you went to a party, that he gave! Which reminds me, he's a big party-giver, with a pretty good reputation as a cocksman! He's also been involved with some pretty well-known women, in the international jet-set!"

"He really gets around, then?"

"And spends money, lavishly!"

"Pays his income tax?"

"Like a model citizen!" Alec affirmed. "He's clean, absolutely clean, and that's what bugs me!"

"Then, maybe you're on the wrong trackas far as Stansfield's concerned."

"I don't think so!" Alec snorted. "Here's a rough profile: Money, Horses, Women, Gambling! Three weaknesses, that take money! Lots of it, and I don't think he makes that much money building pleasure boats, alone! There's got to be another source! All I've got to do is find out where the rest of his money comes from!"

"Well, I hope you can!" Mickey said fervently. "By the way I've moved."

"That's good, it'd buy us some time, while they're trying to find you, again!" Alec observed. "Where?"

"Corona del Mar area." Mickey told him. "Here's the address." He wrote it out for the detective. "I don't have a telephone, yet."

Alec was surprised. "Why the hell did you move down there?"

"That's where Claire wanted to live. She picked the apartment!" Mickey defended.

"Do you mean, she's going to stay here, now?"

"Yeah," Mickey grinned. "She finally got some sense, I guess!"

"Or she's suspicious!" Alec suggested, cynically.

"I don't think so, and I'm sure they haven't made contact with her yet!"

"Let's hope not!"

"Should I level with Claire, tell her what's going on?" Mickey asked, worriedly.

"No! Not yet! I'd like to stop it, while it's just a conspiracy, and maybe we could keep it from her, completely!" Alec told him.

"Okay, whatever you say."

Mickey Pearson left, and Alec stared at the closed door, wondering: I sure as hell hope that I've made the right guess!

Mick Stansfield picked up the third telephone on his desk. Its number was unlisted and known to only a very few people.

"Yes?" he barked into the mouthpiece.

"Stearns, Mick." the voice came over the wires to him. "We spotted Pearson!"

"Where?"

"He's talking to a private eye, name of Berg!"

"Okay! That's good! Now, this's what I want you to do. You got Dilfer with you?"

"Yeah."

"Have him stick to Pearson, find out where he's living now. I figure that wife of his must be here, with him, since they turned up a blank in Omaha!" Stansfield instructed. "And, tell him to let me know, personally as soon as he's got the address!"

"Right!"

"And, I want you, Bruce, to pay a little visit to that private detective! Tell him it's time to bow out, or else!"

"Should I give him something to remember?" Bruce Stearns asked.

"No, just warn him off, but you'll know what to do if he's not going to cooperate." Stansfield told him.

"Okay, we'll get right on it!" Stearns broke the connection.



Bruce Stearns bulldozed his way past Judith Howser in the outer office and burst into Alec's office, taking him by surprise.

"You Alec Berg?" he demanded.

"Yes, what do you want?"

"Mickey Pearson was just here, and I'd like to give you some advice, about what to do on his case!"

"I can always use good advice." Alec said mildly. "What is it?"

"Nothing! Don't do any more work for him, at all!"

"He's given me a retainer, and I."

"Give it back!" Stearns grated. "Better yet, maybe you should take a vacation!"

While the other man was talking, Alec made mental notes. He would know this man, any time he saw him again. Medium build ... five feet ten or eleven inches tall, 180 pounds, late thirties, wavy blonde hair, brown eyes, scar on his forehead, long, straight nose, heavy lower jaw, long, oval face, and the sound of his voice, all registered in his mind and he would remember.

"I don't have time for vacations!" Alec told him, leaning back in his swivel chair. He was relaxed but alert, waiting for a possible attack. He knew, now, that someone-Stansfield maybe -was worried, so they were trying to scare him off!

"You're not listening very good!" Stansfield's man threatened.

"Come off it, Man, I've sat through hundreds of Grade B movies and TV whodunnits, where the big, tough guy warns the detective to lay off, and you're playing it worse than any I've ever seen!" Alec said, with a disarming grin. "Now, unless you've got some further business with me, I'd suggest you leave, now!"

Stearns, caught off guard by Alec's unruffled reaction, gaped, staringly, for a moment, then turned to leave, shooting back, lamely, over his shoulder, "Okay, smart-ass, don't say you weren't warned!"

"I'll get it down in my notes!" Alec Berg returned.

When the unknown bearer of a warning from an equally, as yet, unknown source was gone, the detective heaved a sigh of relief, glad that there had been no violence. But, it was damned close ... if I hadn't kidded him out of it!

Intending to go home for dinner, since he'd been so busy for the last two days that he hadn't made it home, until the early hours of the morning, Alec headed for the parking lot. He was worried, not about Mickey's troubles but his own. Hell! Things aren't getting any better, between Brandy and me, but if she'd loosen up a little bit and put a little zing into our sex- life, it'd sure help! Maybe, what we need is a good vacation ... go off somewhere, relax, and get things ironed out, otherwise, we're headed straight for the divorce court! The hell of it is, Brandy's basically, a sexy woman, She's got everything going for her!, And, I love her, but she's not turned on! Christ!, If only,

Alec had almost reached his Mustang and was delving into his jacket pocket for the car's keys, when he became aware of a racing engine behind him. He glanced back to see a car bearing down on him. Instinctively, he jumped out of the way and rolled between two parked cars. The car, a big Pontiac, had just missed him, and as he picked himself up off the asphalt, he knew it was no accident. Goddamn! That was close, too close! And, it's either a second warning, or the damned guy was really trying to do me in!

He hadn't had time to get a license number, but the face behind the wheel he'd know anywhere. It was the goon who'd burst into his office to give the detective some "advice."

Forgotten was his intention to go home; instead, he drove to police headquarters, where he spent an hour or more poring over mug shots. He found what he was looking for and lodged a formal complaint against: Stearns, John W., also called Bruce, one former conviction for armed robbery; an extortion case was dismissed, for lack of evidence. There was a long string of assaults in his record, as well as three busts for bookmaking.

"We don't have anything pending on him, right now," the duty Lieutenant told Berg, then asked, "What happened?"

"He tried to kill me, with his car, in the parking lot of my office building!" Alec said vehemently.

"Do you know why, Alec?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Alec answered, evasively.

"Okay, well try to pick him up on this!"

After all the details were taken care of, it was too late to drive home, so he drove South, to Newport, picked up a bite to eat at a drive-in and continued his search for Trina Dawes, whom he was convinced was somehow the key to the whole situation.



It was around midnight when Alec hit pay-dirt. He found a bartender in a plush bar who knew Trina and a five dollar bill was enough to get him her telephone number. The rest was easy. He located the apartment building, checked it and found her apartment empty.

Settling down to wait and watch, he was determined to see her ... and get information from her one way or the other.

A little after one in the morning, Trina arrived, with a man. Hell! She's picked up an all night trick!

He made for the nearest pay telephone and dialed her number, sure that she would answer, if things weren't too far along.

"Hello, Trina Baby!" he said, slurring his words, purposely, "I'm here, all primed, an' ready for some fun!"

"Who is this?" she demanded.

"You don't know me, Baby, I'm from out of town, but I heard 'bout you, an."

"But, what's your name, and what do you want?"

"Name's Alec, Alec Berg, and I don't have to tell you what I'm after, Baby!" he slurred. "An' I got the money to pay for it with, you get me?"

"It's late, and I."

"Yeah, I can guess, some other bastard beat me to the punch, for the rest of the night, right?"

"Well, you know."

"Kick 'im out, and I'll be right over!"

"No, you don't understand."

"The hell I don't!"

"But, maybe we could work something out, for tomorrow." She hated to let him go, without making some arrangement for later.

"Tomorrow, afternoon?" he queried.

"Yes, that'll be Okay, Give me a call?"

"Sure, Baby, I'll call you, 'cause I've got three more days, and a bad need, for some real fun and games!"

"Around two, Okay?"

"That's perfect, Trina Baby! You got yourself a date!"

He hung up, quick, grinning his satisfaction. Well, I've got a date, that's going to be fun to keep!

Alec was on time. Before he went up to Trina's apartment, he put his .38 in the glove compartment of his car and clipped the little Berreta to the inside back of his pants waistband. There was no point in being completely unprepared.

Trina greeted him at the door. "Alec?" she asked.

"Yeah, and it's sure been a long wait!"

She didn't let him in, just yet. "Where'd you get my telephone number?" Trina demanded.

Berg told her the name of the bartender and the location of the place. "And, it cost me five!" he concluded.

Satisfied that he was not a vice-squad officer, she opened the door to admit him.

"Do you quiz everybody, like that?" Alec asked.

"Well, I've got to be careful, you know."

"Yeah, I suppose so." he agreed, stepping in close to take her in his arms, to kiss her.

She seemed to be reluctant, as he probed at her lips with his tongue, his hands moving down over the softness of her straight back to the rounded protuberances of her full-orbed buttocks and discovering in the process that she wore no encumbering bra or panties. His hands dug into the resilient flesh of them, hungrily.

Twisting her lips away, Trina told him, firmly, "It's fifty dollars, in advance!"

"You're lovely." Alec told her with a disarming grin, but you must have a cash register, in place of a heart."

He watched her gathering frown, as she tried to work up some anger over what he had said; the frown turned to a smile, though, when she reached out for the fifty dollar bill he took out of his wallet. She had balanced it out, quickly, for herself, in favor of the money.

Silently, she turned away, her walk studiedly provocative as she headed for the bedroom. Smart-ass! I'll give him a quickie ... and kick him out of here!

Alec didn't follow.

Looking back over her shoulder at him, she said, "Well? The bedroom's back here!"

"That fifty ought to buy a drink, too." he suggested.

"Okay, what'll it be?" She was disappointed that he wanted to delay.

"Scotch-rock'll be fine," Alec grunted, dropping into a comfortable chair.

Trina fixed the drinks and brought them. Handing him his drink, she sat on the sofa facing him, tucking up her legs, her mini-shift riding up and giving him a clear view of her curvaceously tapered thighs and a flashing glimpse of auburn- tinted pubic hair to match the dark red of her carefully combed, lustrous hair.

He smiled his lewd appreciation, and hoisting his glass in toast, said, "Here's to what makes the world go around!"

"Sex?" she smiled.

"No! Money!" He took a long swallow of his drink, then as he looked over at her, again, he added, "It's the one thing people'll do almost anything for!"

His remark made her feel uncomfortable. She tried to change the subject. "Did you come here, just to drink and talk?"

"Hell no! I came here on business!" Alec told her, setting his glass down on the coffee table and getting up to strip off his jacket and tie, before sitting down, again, next to her on the couch. She started to cringe away from him, thinking she had made a mistake about him, after all. Twice before, she had been busted by vice-squad men, and she was frightened, momentarily, until he added, with a grin, "Your business, that is."

He took her, solidly, into his arms, and his lips sought for and found hers, but this time, it was her moist, pink tongue that came surging into his mouth, searchingly, as his hands began to explore the soft contours of her lush body.

Cupping the resilient mound of a perfectly sculptured breast through the soft material of her dress, he kneaded it massagingly, and felt the tiny nipple spiking out hard and erect into the palm of his hand, while below, between his own legs, the natural and normal reaction began to take place.

There was the crawling lift of his scrotum pulling his balls up close to his body and the throbbing fullness in his penis as it became blood-engorged in a growing erection. He'd have to hold himself back, if his plan for Trina were to work. Damn it, just concentrate on getting her worked up!

He knew, from past experience, that many prostitutes didn't allow themselves to become involved with their johns; they just faked it all the way, made the guy think he was really getting a good lay, while she remained completely detached. Alec, consciously, tried to repress his own sexuality; at the same time he stimulated her, reversing the roles.

Sliding his hand down across her flat belly, then out along the smooth whiteness of a finely tapered thigh, he went in under the short length of her dress, allowing his warm hand to massage the soft flesh up the smooth inner side, moving upward, slowly, until he was rummaging in the angle of her thighs, caressing the curling fleeciness of her pubic hair; meanwhile, he was forcing her back, by slow degrees, until she was lying supine on the couch, beneath him, her legs straightened out, now, and parted slightly. Smoothly, he slipped a finger down into the moist warmth of her pussy, pressuring in through the fleshy folds from the top and parting the sparse adornment of hair, to find the tiny, erectly throbbing bud of her cli. His finger rubbed at it, teasingly, gently bringing it to even greater hardness; then, using two fingers, together, he drummed a tattoo up and down its short, pulsating length. He was rewarded by feeling the erotic spasms of it in her body and the tiny grinding undulations of her loins up against his taunting fingers.

Suddenly, Trina gasped, twisting her mouth away, savagely, and moaning, "Damn you, you're not like most of the others, who just want a quick fuck! You've got to make like the great lover!"

"What's your objection, Baby?"

"I just don't like to make it, really make it with the johns, and besides, it takes up my time!"

"Well, Trina Baby, you're going to make it with me, all the way!" he promised.

"Let's go into the bedroom, then!"

"Suits me." Alec agreed, leaning back to allow her to get up.

The detective followed her into the bedroom, removing his shirt and undershirt, as he walked, and watching the provocative sway of her hips.

Once inside the bedroom, Trina whipped off her mini-sheath to reveal the voluptuous curves of her soft, womanly body. As she tossed her dress to the back of a vanity chair, Alec came in behind her, his arms going around her, under her arms, his itching hands clutching at the full, softly pliant mounds of her breasts, while his lips came down to kiss her delicately sloping shoulders and the nape of her neck. She shivered with delight and turned in the circle of his arms to press her nakedly curvaceous body up against him with a mewling moan of building passion. He felt the erect cones of her hardened nipples press in, tightly, against his own naked, hairy chest, while below her hips gyrated in tiny circles against the lengthening hardness of his almost fully erect, throbbing cock.

Alec's hands swarmed over her, smoothing the svelte contours of her body, his strong fingers kneading the resilient, warm flesh of her full-orbed buttocks. Then, his mouth was on hers, his tongue bursting through her lips to probe deep into the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. He did it with more ardor than he felt ... on purpose. I want her really hot to trot, before I really start working her over!

After a moment or two, she broke the kiss and murmured, "I don't know why, I'm letting you do this."

"Because you like it, I imagine!" he grunted, walking her backward the short distance to the edge of the bed.

As the backs of her knees contacted the edge of the bed, he pushed the auburn-haired beauty back onto it and stepped back. Quickly, he shed his shoes, socks and pants, leaving only his shorts to cover him, partially.

Sprawling there on the bed, where he had shoved her down, Trina's legs were splayed, obscenely, and he could see the pink flesh of her pussy, glistening dully moist and palpitant in the dim light of the bedroom.

Inside his shorts, his massive erection stirred and jerked involuntarily, and Trina's eyes were glued to the spot, her interest intense.

This man's lips, tongue and hands had ignited a slow fuse that was sputtering away in her, and she was trapped in a morass of ecstatic sensations that raced through her voluptuous body in waves of erotic anticipation. The thing that really bothered her ... and the reason she didn't want to become involved, this afternoon, was the telephone call she had received just before Alec's arrival. It was Claire who had called, and Trina had convinced her to come to her apartment that same afternoon. She had already agreed to having Alec there, but she hated to turn him away and lose the money. She hated worse the fact that he had turned out to be so ardent. Now, I'm all worked up, and I'll have to go through with it! Not that she didn't like the idea of being turned on by a man; she had been thinking of Claire, and the delicious things she had in mind for her. It had been farthest from her mind that she'd be responding to Alec, but she was. There was nothing she could do about it, now, She just hoped that she could get rid of him, before Claire arrived.

A mewling hum of anticipation emitted from her throat, as her eyes devoured him, watching the lurch of the outsized bulge in his shorts. Then, her own hands, well-manicured and lotion-softened, slid, sinuously, up over her body to the full moons of her breasts, where her fingers played, narcissistically, with the distended, berry-like buds of her nipples, the darker pink of their aureoles drawing up in sensitive wrinkles of soft flesh.

"God!" she moaned, finally, anxious for him to go on now, "Get your shorts off, so you can start fucking me, with that big cock of yours!"

While Alec had been watching her, he had reached back of him, to get the object he needed, from his shirt pocket. Now, he held it behind him, a lewd smile of anticipation on his face. She's hot, already, and it won't be long, now, before she'd be crawling up the walls!

Trina closed her eyes, expecting that he would be on top of her, digging and poking at her body and shoving his hard cock into her cunt. Then, he'd fuck her for all he was worth, until he came, frantically, and that would be that,

But, it didn't happen that way!

She was caught by surprise, as the unexpected happened. Her body jerked, spasmodically, involuntarily, at the light, tickle of something that was moving inch by tortuous inch up the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, heading, she knew for the pulsating portal of her cuntal passage that gaped open to him, because of her obscenely splayed thighs.

Her eyes flew open, widening, as she gaped down to where Alec was leaning over her, a gaily colored blue and green peacock feather held in his fingers, lightly, as he twirled it, teasingly, on her vibrant, sex-tingling flesh. Instantly, she clamped her legs together.

"What the hell, do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Alec grinned down at her, salaciously. "Getting you good and ready, for some wild fucking!" he told her, and went right on with his tantalizing torture of her, dragging it now up the valley of her close-held thighs.

Instinctively, her hands flew to her pubic mound, protectively, knowing in a flash that if he were actually to use the feather on her cunt there would be no end to her arousal, and she didn't want that. She still held the image, in her mind, of the expected pleasures she would have with the dark-haired Claire ... when she arrived.

"My God, Alec, don't do that, to me!"

[Lois]

"Why not?" he grunted. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but it's torture!"

"Not really! This'll turn you on, like nothing you've ever had before!" he grated, intent on what he was doing. "So you might as well lie back and enjoy it, for a while!"

Catching up her hands by the wrists, in a steel-fingered grasp, he pulled them away from the pulsating slit of her pussy.

"Now, open your legs!" he ordered.

"No! I-I won't let you do it!"

"I've paid you, in advance, you little whore!" he bellowed. "And, I'll do what the hell I please! Understand?"

Trina understood. She slowly relaxed the muscles of her thighs, to allow them to spread apart for his idea of fun. It could be worse! She told herself. At least, he's not one of the weird ones with whips, and crazy clothes!

The detective's triumph over her gave him a definite edge, now. Damn! It won't be long, until she's begging for mercy! Then, we'll see,

Alec released her hands, then, and focusing his full attention on what he was doing, began to tantalize her naked flesh with the peacock feather.

Groaning with helplessness, Trina felt the teasing lightness of the soft tip of the feather, as it tracked tiny circles of fire on the smooth skin of her inner thighs, darting into the hollows on either side of her sparsely hair fringed cuntal lips. She could have screamed with the excruciating torment, as it moved, relentlessly, toward its obvious target, through a deviously tortuous route.

Inexorably, the feather in his hand moved closer and closer, until finally, it trailed into the coralline moistness of her vaginal furrow, fringed, lightly, with the soft auburn curls of her pubic hair. Around and around he twisted it, dipping into her cuntal opening, momentarily, only to drag it, between the inner, petal-like lips that had begun to flower open with blood engorgement, and as he watched with lewd satisfaction he saw them begin to turn to a darker shade of pink.

Never had Trina experienced such an ecstatically sexy, nerve- charged, exciting sensation. She writhed on the bed, her hips undulating up to that torturing feather, and her breath came in uncontrolled, short, sharp pantings, as she felt him thrust it, twirlingly, in and out of her moist cuntal passage, igniting searing flames of desire that raced, unchecked in her nerve endings, like an all-consuming prairie fire, leaping before a strong wind and destroying all in its path.

She was ready, and already she had had enough of the feather, as she became aware of the slippery, warm moisture that exuded from the inner walls of her vaginal tunnel to ooze in viscid droplets into her cuntal portal. God! She was on fire with a desire she had never before felt.

"Oh, My God, Alec! Stop it! I can't stand it!" she groaned. "Stop playing around with me, and fuck me, damn it!"

"Later, Baby!"

Alec wasn't about to stop, yet; he wanted her completely helpless, He twisted the feather farther into the moist depths of her cent; then finally, after long moments it left her cunt and pirouetted upward to dance through the sparse, auburn fringe to the pulsating bud of her erectile cli, hidden in the defile of her womanly slit. He moved it, tormentingly, up and down the short length of the miniature phallus, coming to rest with a twirling motion on the sensitive triangle of its blood- engorged, sensitive head. She stifled a scream. Never, ever, had she experienced such exquisite agony, and joy, at the same time. She killed the building scream, in her throat, because she wouldn't allow him to know that he had subjugated her with an insignificant feather.

The peacock feather, in Alec's hand, danced teasingly on her throbbing cli for only a few moments, and just at the point when she was sure she could stand no more of it, the lust-inciting feather was suddenly gone. Then, she felt it trailing up through the fleecy softness of her pubic hair, across her abdomen and out over the flat, white plane of her smooth belly, dipping with a saucy twirl into the shallow depression of her navel and moving out to her groin to tantalize the soft hollows there.

Suddenly, with a broad sweep, the teasing peacock feather was on her breasts, orbiting them in a figure eight, which grew smaller with each evolution, moving upward on the full mounds of her trembling, white breasts, until it circled the crowning, cameo-pink of her hard-coned nipples.

Soft, mewling whimpers began to come, unbidden, from her lips, as the torturing feather, still moist from the dews of her cuntal opening, moved in ever smaller circles, until it proscribed only one of the hardened, erectile nipples, playing on the crinkled flesh of the aureole, then on the pink column of the tiny nipple itself, her quivering breasts set all atingle with the lascivious sensations it generated in them.

Then, Trina found herself wriggling her shoulders, her torso writhing, as she attempted to shove her breasts up against the teasing tip of the feather in Alec's hand. Her body, already crazed with overpowering desire, wanted more, and yet more.

She felt as though she were in a strong undertow, being dragged under water, and she was helpless in its grip. She was aware only of the throbbing ache of her loins that seemed to pulsate, radiatingly into her whole abdomen, the exuded, viscous moisture there making her even more expectant, the anticipation of what she expected to come to her, soon, stabbing excitedly deep into her very being. She couldn't wait any longer, it seemed, before she'd have to have Alec's big cock in her, filling her, fulfilling her, or she'd go out of her mind.

Frantically, her hands clawed upward to the magnificent orbs of her breasts; against her will, she kneaded and massaged them, cruelly, pressing them up from her supine, quivering body, offering them to the torment like a sacrifice.

Conscious control stopped, and she surrendered her body to the total, depraved enjoyment of the sensations the twirling, dancing feather engendered in her whole body that trembled with lewd anticipation.

The teasing feather left her breasts, suddenly, and she felt it trace a salacious path down through the moistly perspirant valley between her mounding breasts to swoop down and downward again to the throbbing pink flesh of her searingly expectant cunt. She gasped with sheer ecstatic joy, as she felt the moist tip of it slide down through her auburn pubic hair, to pause, momentarily, on her cli, where the twitching torment of the feather left her breathlessly writhing on the bed.

Trina almost screamed with frantic frustration when it didn't stop there, on her cli; instead, she felt it plow, lightly, down through her cuntal furrow, until it was running in tiny, orbiting circles around the brownish, puckered ring of her anus. The full moons of her buttocks spasmed, suddenly, as the tip of the feather nestled down between the orbs of white flesh to tantalize the sensitive flesh of her clenching rear passage.

That was it! She had reached her limit of tolerance.

"OOOOooooohhhh!" she groaned, with agonized rapture, as the unbelievably powerful sensations surged, uncontrolled through her body. "Oh, Christ! I-I can't take any more, Alec! Stop it! Take that damned feather away! Please? Oh, please?"

In spite of his resolve to hold back his own sexual arousal, Alec found himself breathing heavily, as he half leaned and half crouched between Trina's wide-spread legs, torturing her with the gaily colored feather, watching as she writhed her full-curved hips, her clenching and unclenching anus seeming to claim the teasing feather as its own. It won't be long, now! He was gleeful. But the real fun'll come, when I finally get my cock in her! She'll go of like a Roman candle, on the Fourth of July!

His massive cock throbbed achingly. It was jerking, involuntarily, with his need to get it shoved into her cunt and start fucking, but he had to control himself, keep himself from doing what she expected. This was a battle of sexual wills, which he, for now, was winning, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Alec was aware that a tiny rivulet of clear, viscous lubricating fluid was oozing from the slit in his cock head. Reaching down, he grasped the pulsating shaft of his prick and milked back the loose foreskin to reveal the fiery red crown, heavy with engorged blood; then, he used his thumb to spread the lubricant over the chunky throbbing head, as with the other hand, he kept the feather alive and dancing, twirling it up through her cuntal slit to search out, again, her cli, peeping out from its enfolding ridges of cunt-flesh.

She screamed, loud!

"Stop! STOP! Please? OOOooohhh, please, stop?!"

Now's the time! Alec leaned over her, staring straight into her tear-glistening eyes, still keeping the feather twisting tormentingly on her cli, and said, "You really want me to stop, Trina Baby?"

"Yesssssssss! I-I can't take any, more of it!"

"Okay, I'll stop, when you tell me who paid you to set- up Mickey Pearson, for a blackmail job?"

Shock, surprise and anger all crossed her lovely face in quick succession, as everything seemed to come tumbling down for Trina. She stared at him, strickenly, then cried, "No! NO! I don't know what you're talking, about?"

"Ah, but you do, Baby! So, start giving me the answers, fast!" He dragged the feather down through her pulsing furrow and nestled it into the sensitive flesh of her anus, again. "Who was it, Trina?"

"Nobody!"

"Then, are you the one blackmailing Pearson?"

"No! Oh, God, no! It's not me!"

"Then, who?"

"It's." She stopped.

"Who?" He lashed the feather deep into her cunt. "Who?"

"It's Mr. Ram-Stansfield, Mick Stansfield!" She gasped. "Now ... will you, stop?"

Finally, with her last gasping words, the agonizing torment was suddenly lifted from her frustrated, aching cunt, leaving her breathless, as the tense muscles of her body relaxed, slowly, and she lowered her upraised pelvis, feeling both a sense of relief and of disappointment in her nerve-tortured loins. The feather in Alec's hands had brought her to the highest level of sexual excitement she had ever experienced, and because of it she would be in mortal danger. Mick, told me, he didn't want his name connected with it at all! Bruce Stearns, was going to handle everything! If either of them, ever find out, that I spilled it, My God! I could get k-killed!

The peacock feather had served its purpose. Alec tossed it aside. "How much did Stansfield pay you?" he rasped out at her.

"Does that make any difference?"

"Yeah, I want to know how important this is to him?"

"Two thousand." Trina answered, feeling miserable.

"Now give me a few more names!" he barked. "Who else's in on this?"

"Goddamn you!" Trina spat. "Why don't you fuck me, instead of giving me the third degree!?"

"Names!" he barked. "Who else?"

"Bruce, Bruce Stearns, and another man, I think his name is Dilfer, yes that's it, Joe Dilfer."

"Okay, the inquisition's over!" Alec told her, looking down at her sensuously squirming body, his eyes lewd and filled with pure lust for her. He couldn't help but feel jubilant, now that he had the information he needed. "Now, we can get back to important things, like sex!"

Standing to his full height, Alec Berg grasped her ankles and pulled her unresisting body toward the edge of the bed, until her buttocks extended slightly beyond the edge of the mattress.

Quickly, then, he knelt down between her wide-spread legs and pulled her knees up over his shoulders. Now, his mouth hung just above her still wildly pulsing vaginal opening. Christ! What a gorgeous cunt! He gaped down at the narrow, moistly pink slit, its slightly irregular opening bedewed with viscous droplets of moisture and saw that it was visibly throbbing with her need. Hell, she's almost ready to pop!

Through lust-crazed eyes, Trina looked down at him, where he knelt between her legs, and she could feel the warm palms of his hands against the softly tender flesh of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart. She knew his intention, welcomed it and instinctively wanted to open her legs even farther to give him easy access to her painfully aroused cunt. She wished, dimly, that it might have been Claire, her newest conquest kneeling there, ready to lick and suck her, but since it wasn't, Alec would have to do,

Then, fascinated, anticipating his next move she watched as the detective lowered his head between her tingling thighs, while, involuntarily, her hips undulated upward to meet the delicious sensations his mouth would bring to her.

"AAAAAAAhhhhhhh!" she moaned, her body spasming, uncontrollably, as his moistly hot lips closed over her heated, pulsating cuntal mouth. Her vision blurred and her head pounded with her heartbeat, as he planted lewdly lascivious kisses on the tingling aperture of her wildly anticipating pussy, his tongue darting out to lash deep into the snug moistness of her quivering opening.

Now, her own hands moved with sure, sensuous knowledge, caressingly, over the twin hillocks of her swollen, throbbing breasts, her fingers teasing, again, the erectile, cameo-pink nipples for a moment, before they slid, sinuously, along her flat, white belly, until finally, they arrived at her groin, on either side of his lewdly sucking lips.

Stroking herself gently, her soft fingers rubbed up from the hollows of her flexing groin to the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her cunt, caressing all around them, until she could wait no longer; then, slowly, deliberately, she used her fingers to pull the pulsing lips of her pussy apart to allow his mouth the complete liberty of all her searing, moist furrow. She wanted all, and wanted to give all of herself to him.

Claire Pearson had known, almost from the first, when Mickey had met her at the airport that something was bothering him. She had tried to find out what it was, but he was closemouthed and non- committal.

Their love-making these few days was middling satisfactory; that is to say, it wasn't spectacular. No fireworks, or the earth moving under them was theirs.

Last night, Claire had wanted to put her newfound knowledge to work, knowing that if Mickey were to use his mouth on her, as Trina had, it would bring her vibrant body to exploding sexuality, but she didn't know how to bring it off, how to make her wishes known to him. In the end, she had said nothing. Mickey had fumbled through the sex act, bringing her finally to what she knew, now, was only a lower level of arousal. She had climaxed ... but it was not the earth-shaking thing it could have been, if only,

There was a vague feeling of restlessness in her, on that morning, a slight sense of frustration, balanced by the knowledge that it didn't have to be that way, as she remembered the afternoon, before, with Trina remembered how the other woman's mouth had skyrocketed her to the pinnacle of rapture.

Even though she had told herself that she wouldn't do it, she did. She picked up the telephone, which had just been installed in their apartment, and called Trina Dawes.

The two women chatted, and in the end, Claire had agreed to come to Trina's apartment. Claire knew, when she broke the connection why she was going. She debated the question with herself, but all the arguments of her rational mind couldn't prevail over the rising excitement in her body. The more she thought about it, the more aroused and inflamed she became.

Finally, as it neared the time Trina had suggested, having told her that the "visitor" she expected would be gone already, Claire was on edge, unable to wait any longer. She called a cab, gave the driver the address and rode the fairly short distance to Trina's apartment. It's wrong, and foolish, I know, but I've just got to see her!

Paying the cab driver, Claire walked up the stairs into the modern, apartment building and found Trina's door.

She started to ring the doorbell, but noticed that the door was standing slightly ajar. Trina was expecting her, and maybe she left the door open, on purpose, Impulsively, she gave the door an inward push. It swung open to reveal an empty living room.

"Trina?" she called, softly.

There was no answer. She stepped inside and called out, again. She must be in the bedroom, A devilish curiosity took over. Do you suppose her visitor's still here? Then, somehow, it seemed important for her to know: Is her visitor a man ... or woman?

Closing the door, firmly, this time, Claire walked farther into the apartment. She knew where the bedroom was and made unerringly for it, pausing to listen outside the door.

She heard the moans of a woman caught up in passion. Her curiosity led her on. I'll just peek in, then I'll leave, and come back later,

The bedroom door opened, soundlessly, and Claire saw that it was a man, who was bringing such rapture to the auburn-haired Trina.

The woman was moaning, incessantly, and as Claire watched she saw that the man kneeling between her whitely tapering thighs was using his mouth to suck and lick at her nakedly exposed cuntal slit. Trina's arms were pressed in tight against her sides, her eyes were tightly closed and her head flailed from side to side, her beautiful auburn tresses in total disarray, as she responded to the man with unbridled ecstasy. Claire knew that his mouth nuzzled up into the angle of Trina's thighs was generating all those delightful sensations reflected on her lovely face, as his agile, taunting tongue flicked out, its soft tip searching for then circling her palpitant cli.

Claire had really meant only to peek in then leave, as she had promised herself, but now, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes from the hotly writhing body of the girl, Trina, on the bed.

And, of course, that slow-building need that had been with her all day, and which had, finally, prompted her to come to Trina's apartment, burst into licking flames of desire in her loins, as she watched. She recognized it, knew that she'd have to be fulfilled, but this is Trina's little party, with her man "visitor"! She knew she should have left, right then,

Under Alec's voraciously active mouth, Trina felt his lips suck at her, drawing the warm, tender petals of her flowered-open cunt into the hot cavern of his mouth; then, it was her cli that received the attention of his licking tongue. He drew the tiny, erect bud up between his lips to suck it for a moment, before finally taking it lightly in his teeth, while his tongue teased its short length with sensuous flickings of his lingual member. She groaned out her pleasure from deep in her throat, mewling and purling as now the hot, searching tip of his sinuous tongue worked its way up and down the narrow length of her soft, pulsating furrow, beginning at her lower belly and pressuring its way down to the softly pliant opening of her hungrily clasping cuntal opening. Inexorably, then, his tongue worked lower and lower, down into the crevice of her resiliently hollowing buttocks, pausing, momentarily, to probe, moistly, at the tight, puckered ring of her sensitively clenching anal opening below. She gasped with the erotic shock of it, and her hips ground up at him, wildly, begging for more and yet more of the same.

Standing there in the doorway of Trina's bedroom, guiltily watching, Claire couldn't drag herself away, couldn't stop watching the lewd sex act. Almost hypnotically, her own hands sneaked up to her tingling breasts and caressed them through her dress. She had not worn bra or panties, daringly, knowing deep in the back of her mind her real reason for coming to the auburn- haired woman's apartment, Then, her hands moved down, down and down, until they smoothed into the hollows of her groin, and one of them snaked over to cover her pubic mound, a finger then going into the fleshy fold of sensitive flesh to her already erect cli. Unconsciously she rubbed, gently, at herself, through the light material of her mini-shift. Oh, God, I'm getting so aroused, but there's nothing I can do, now, except, But, she didn't like to do that, to herself,

Trina's unceasing moans seemed to drive Alec's tongue faster and faster, as he slaved away at her steamingly voracious loins. Damn! He wanted the little bitch begging for it, screaming in agony to be fucked, when he was ready to shove his big cock into her. It was sadistic, he knew, and she was already more than ready, as he had taunted her with the feather, and now with his mouth, But, she'll know she's been fucked, when I'm through with her, because she'll blow her nuts, and just keep blowing! He liked it that way!

Suddenly, the excitedly writhing girl reached out to entangle her fingers in his hair, guiding his face in tight to the palpitating vestibule of her cuntal passage, snugging him in between her wide-splayed legs, and he stabbed his stiffened tongue deeply into the moist depths of her vaginal opening; then he withdrew it to flick, teasingly, swirlingly, around the ragged, coral-pink edges.

With lustful, sex-crazed strength, she pulled his head in even closer, pressing his mouth directly over the thin, vertical opening of her demandingly searing passage, and as his lips ovalled and covered the softly bearded mouth, he thrust his tongue into it, deeply, again, flicking it in and out, now, to a set tempo, in imitation of a fucking cock.

From deep in her throat emitted a low, guttural, animal-like groan, and below, her warm, trembling thighs closed, convulsively around either side of his slightly bobbing head. Trina was in a rapturous state, beyond all reason.

Alec could feel, clearly, the moist flesh of her silky smooth vaginal walls, as they slipped, sheathingly, around his long, agile tongue, the lining of her cunt seeming to clasp, pulsingly, around it in a tiny, milking motion of its own. Her heels, swung up over his back, pressed down hard, as she lifted her loins up to him, undulantly, and he felt almost as though he were caught in a fleshy trap. She pulled him in so hard that he could barely breathe.

For the several moments Claire had stood there, transfixed, she had concentrated her attention almost exclusively on watching what the unknown man was doing, down there, between Trina's lovely thighs, but now, her eyes wandered over the kneeling man's body. It was trim and hard-muscled, and he was a big man, she decided; although not as tall or heavy as Mickey. Then, below, she saw the hardened massiveness of his erectile penis, spearing out from his hairy loins. It was jerking and throbbing, wildly, and she could see the glistening droplets of clear, viscous fluid on its fiery, blood-engorged head. She gasped, aloud, a tiny sound, but it cut across the other sounds in the room, the soft mewlings from Trina and the obscene sucking noises that the man's mouth made as he lashed his tongue deep into the auburn fringed orifice of her seething cuntal passage.

Trina heard it. Her eyes fluttered open to see Claire standing there. Claire, aware that her presence was known, turned in confusion to leave, her face turning crimson with her quick blush, as she was caught in her voyeuristic role.

"Oohh, Claire!" Trina breathed. "You're here, but don't go!" Instantly, she knew. She wanted Claire, too! Then, to Alec, she cried out, imploringly, "Alec, Let me up, now, so I can do Claire, while you fuck me, at the same time, please?"

Alec stopped, momentarily, looked up at her and asked, "Claire? Who's she?"

"M-My girlfriend!"

Alec looked around, startled, to see Claire standing in the doorway, poised, ready for flight. Then, he understood what Trina wanted, as he saw the dark-haired beauty of the young woman, and appraised her luscious body that was barely hidden by the light mini-shift she wore.

"Hell yes!" he agreed. "It suits me fine, if she wants to."

Trina released his hair, then, and Alec stood up, while she scrambled off the bed, her lust-filled eyes devouring Claire's figure. "You will, won't you, Claire?"

"I-I don't know, Trina." Claire stumbled. "I-I'll come back, later." She turned, again, to leave the room.

Frantically, Trina scampered after her and trapped her in her naked arms. "Claire, honey?" she pleaded. "I want you, and need you, too!" She felt her trembling body, her nipples, hard and erect, poking into her own naked breasts through the light material of her dress and knew that the black-haired woman was aroused, sexually. Then, as her hands smoothed down Claire's back, caressingly, to the full-orbed protuberances of her buttocks, she discovered that the other woman wore no panties either.

Claire moaned in her arms, as Trina's mouth sought hers and kissed her deeply; then, with gentle insistence, Trina moved her toward the bed, walking her backwards, until when they reached the edge of the bed, Trina laid her unresisting body down supine upon it.

Helplessly, Claire found herself on the bed, lying crosswise, and as Trina slithered down her body, she felt her dress being lifted and shoved up to her hips; then, as the beautiful auburn haired woman pried her legs apart and crawled in between them, she knew she couldn't resist any longer.

With an agonized moan of anticipation, she looked down to see Trina crouched between her legs, her mouth dropping down between her softly tapering thighs. Then, as the other woman's hotly moist tongue made electric-arcing contact with the sensitive flesh of her cuntal furrow, she gasped, aloud and raised her hips up, undulantly, in full submission to the highly erotic stimulation of her lashing tongue.

Alec had waited the few moments none too patiently. His cock had been incited to a jerking rock-hardness, and he had held himself back, purposely, for too long already. Damn! His balls ached, and he had to get his cock shoved into her, and start fucking, now! If he didn't, Hell! I'll be shooting my cum all over the place!

No sooner had Trina crouched down between Claire's legs, her smooth, white buttocks waving nakedly up behind her, than Alec moved in smoothly to stand in back of her, his hands reaching out, claw-like, to grasp her swiveling hips.

With a frantic moan, he flexed his pelvis forward, as he used the power of his arms to haul her buttocks back to him; at the same time, his wildly pulsating cockhead nudged into her heated vaginal opening. Then, glancing down quickly to see that he was on target, he rammed his hugely throbbing cock deep into her cuntal passage, in one powerfully smooth thrust. He felt her backward push against him and heard her gasp of pleasure, as his pubic bone smacked up hard into the smooth crevice between her whitely trembling buttocks.

Trina's agile, knowing tongue snaked out to lick insanely at Claire's erect, pulsatingly hard cli, concentrating on the tiny, sensitive head of it. The exquisitely racing sensations caused her to moan aloud; then as she heard Trina's sharply in- drawn gasp, she looked up to see that the man Trina had called Alec was standing behind her woman lover's buttocks, a contorted look of pure lust on his face, as he rammed his massive, fully erect cock deep into Trina's warmly clasping vaginal opening. In that instant, she realized that she was now part of a three-linked chain, with Trina being the middle length, both active and passive, giving and receiving, at one and the same time. It crossed her mind faintly: Will they be expecting m-me, to, to do that, too? Then, she wondered for a moment about it ... wondered what she would do, or whether she would even consider it, if it came up, but she forgot it promptly. Those delicious sensations down there, between her legs, were driving her wild with sensual delirium, and mindlessly, she ground her loins up to Trina's hungry mouth, to seek a forbidden ecstasy again.

Standing behind Trina Alec drove his goring cock in and out of her, like a rutting boar, as his aching, rock-hard shaft soared far up into the warm, moist depths of her clasping vaginal sheath.

And Trina who had spiraled upward to the very brink of her orgasm, and hung there for what seemed an eternity, stimulated first by that tormenting feather then by his licking, sucking mouth, was nudged over the edge quickly, into soaring orgasm, a release that shattered her, as she convulsed, again and again, under his plundering assault from the rear. She exploded like a stick of dynamite, with a delayed fuse.

Finally, she was there. She came, screaming, "Oh, my God! IIIII'mmmmm Cuuuuuummmmmmmiiiiiinnngg! AAAAMAAaaaaaaauuuuuuuggggghhhhh!"

Her vision dimmed, hearing blurred, and suddenly she was weak, unable to hold herself up on knees and elbows. She collapsed into a satiated heap on top of Claire, moaning out her exquisite joy, almost unconscious from the intensity of her final release, and, as she collapsed, falling forward to lie prone on top of Claire, Alec's rampaging cock was pulled clear of her still moistly milking cunt, to leave them both frustrated and unsatiated.

Claire groaned, "Oh, p-please, Trina keep on doing it?"

"Goddamn!" Alec exploded. "Just when it was getting good!"

Desperately he tried to haul the auburn-haired one's hips back into position, but she was relaxed, dead weight, her body refusing to function. Christ! He had to go on, now, and with Trina out of action, there was only one thing left to do,

Pausing only long enough to roll Trina's sex-satisfied body aside, he crawled up between the softly grinding whiteness of Claire's still widespread thighs and wedged himself down between them.

"Claire, Baby-whoever you are-" he growled, "we're both in the same boat, frustrated as hell, and I'm going to fuck you, right now!"

It was confusing. Things had happened so fast that Claire hadn't time to think about it at all. It just happened, and she let it happen. She didn't object, because it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh, God, yessss!" she gasped, reaching down between them to guide the massively hardened shaft of his cock straight into her searingly aroused cuntal passage.

Flicking his hips, Alec plunged the hardness of his almost bursting cock deep into the moistly clinging depths of her pussy, goring into her with demonic fury, and on the instant, Claire became an adulteress, helpless to change the firm course of events. She could not have denied the demands of her sexually aroused body then, even if she had wanted to do so. Her tensions building during the day, her watching Alec and Trina, followed by the taunting stimulation of Trina's mouth all worked against her, and she was too far gone,

Claire groaned as his throbbingly lust-inflated cock slammed deep into her, the bulbous head pressing waves of her tender vaginal walls ahead of it, until with a sharp smack, his sperm- laden balls slapped up against the nakedness of her trembling upturned buttocks.

Afraid that he had held himself back too long, Alec began to fuck in and out of her hungrily clasping young vaginal sheath with insane, plundering lunges, using all the strength of his body to drive his demanding cock deeper and deeper and faster and faster, while beneath him, Claire, oblivious to all but the ecstatic sensations racing through her, began to match him, lifting her loins up to him in counteringly undulant gyrations.

and suddenly she was on a run-away escalator that hurtled her upwards toward her orgasm, and she heard herself, chant up into his face, "Fuck me! Hard! Oh, God, fuck me!"

Instinctively, she pulled her thighs back to her chest, until her aching, perspiring breasts were mashed flat, and she felt him bear down hard on her, his torso pressing her legs back even farther. The whole of her now hotly pulsating pussy was offered up to him, allowing him to thrust all the more deeply into her wildly convulsing belly.

Writhing sensuously under him, Claire's head flailed from side to side, as she climaxed in shuddering emotional release, her body seeming to soar into deep space, where for a moment, there was no time or place, only the rapture of completion, the fulfillment of a promise.

"Oooooh, OOOOOooooohhhhhh! Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" she screamed. "I'm, going, to cuuuuummmmmmm!"

Several slamming strokes later, Alec's spewing orgasm came to him, his hotly jetting semen racing the full length of his wildly pumping cock to splash deep up into the moist warmth of her involuntarily milking cuntal passage. Then, with a groan, he slumped down on top of her, completely spent, satisfied. "God damn!" he blurted. Two of them! I fucked two women, one after the other!

Beneath him, Claire felt the throbbing lurches of his pumping cock, as her own sexual excitement began slowly to subside, and, then, reality intruded. Suddenly, she realized what had happened. OOooh, My God! I've just cheated on Mickey! It's adultery!, And, I didn't want that, didn't intend to.

Tears of remorse began streaming down her eyes. I've got to get out, of here! "Let me up!" she wailed.

Alec complied, rolling away from her to his side, as she quickly scrambled off the bed, pulled her skirt down around her thighs and made for the door.

Raising herself up on an elbow, Trina called after her, "Claire, honey, don't leave, yet, please?"

Her plea fell on deaf ears. Claire was determined to leave. She was already at the front door, when Trina called to her, again, "Will you, come back, Claire?"

The door slammed.

"Claire, who?" Alec asked. Hell! I never saw her naked!

"I don't know, just Claire." Trina answered dismally. "She'll probably not, come back, again."

"Do you have a thing with her?"

"We could have, I think!"

He reached out for her to take her into his arms, but she resisted him, saying, "You got all, and more than you came for ... so you might as well buzz off, too!"

Alec knew she was right. "Okay." he agreed.

"Are you a private detective?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you drop dead!" she snapped vehemently. "Because ... if they ever find out, you were here."

"Don't worry, everything you told me is confidential! I'll never tell!" he assured her.

"Oh, God, I hope so! Now, get the hell out of here!"



After Alec had dressed and left her apartment, Trina did some fast, serious thinking. The longer she stayed where she was the greater her danger, for she was sure that the detective's visit and the information he had tortured out of her could very well be her death warrant.

Throwing on a robe, she raced into the living room, picked up the phone and dialed a local travel agency. Quickly, it was settled. She could pick up her airline ticket within the hour and catch her flight to Chicago at six that same evening. Then, she'd catch a quick flight on a feeder line, And, nobody'll be able to find me, on that little farm in Indiana! She hated the idea of living there again, but she knew it would be safe. Maybe, I'll only have to stay there for six months, a year at most!

Hastily, then, she began to pack, making a careful selection of her clothing. She would only take one bag, she decided, because she was just going to disappear, leaving everything just as it was in her apartment. There won't be any suspicion for a couple of days, and that's just enough time, for me to lose myself, in the backwoods,

The telephone rang.

She decided to ignore it. Getting packed and leaving, as soon as she could was more important. Time might be running out on her, and she wasn't taking any chances.

Brandy Berg was worried sick. She had hardly seen her husband for three days. He had come home in the early morning hours, either too tired or too drunk, crawled into bed and gone to sleep, completely ignoring her; then, he was up and gone again, before she could have a chance to talk with him.

She knew he was absorbed in his work. Every case, it seemed, was his most important, But, he hasn't even wanted to talk to me, Or touch me, ever since that night, he forced me, when he was so drunk,

Was it possible he was making good on his threat, that he was having an affair with another woman, or maybe he was getting ready to leave her? It's not fair! Just when I was going to make some changes in my own ideas, and let him do some of those things, he's always wanting to do,

Getting ready to do the clothes washing, she emptied out pockets of Alec's shirts, before popping them into the automatic machine. Ordinarily, she didn't pay attention to the items she removed from his pockets; she just set them aside for her husband to go through, keeping what was important and throwing the rest away. Today, however, a scrap of paper caught her eye. It was a telephone number and a woman's name: Trina Dawes, the day's date and the time - 2p - all written in Alec's scribbled hand. Below, almost indecipherable was a notation that read: B-Girl! i.e., Mickey P. Makes pick-ups at Premiere Room, Cocktail lounge.

Brandy looked at it as though it were a writhing snake. Did it mean that Alec had an afternoon date with a prostitute? She didn't want to believe that; after all, his work as a private investigator did put him into contact with all kinds of people, including prostitutes. She must be a source of information, or she's involved in a case, somehow,

She tried to forget it, but all during the day, as she went about her household chores, the shopping and, later, at the hairdresser's, it gnawed at her, creating in her mind some doubt as to her husband's reason for making such an appointment. If he were playing around, with another woman, a housewife, or a secretary, I could understand it, and maybe, I could fight it!, But going to a cheap little whore, God! What can I do about it? UGH!

Finally, it was almost three o'clock. She had been conjuring up mental fantasies concerning Alec, and a whore named Trina, wondering vague things, about how they would be doing it. Then, she couldn't stand any more of it. There was one way to find out,

Retrieving the doubt-producing scrap of paper from Alec's desk, she dialed the telephone number, realizing as she did that it was an out-of-area prefix. She let it ring five times. There was no answer. She hung up and looked up the prefix in the telephone directory, discovering that it was a number in Corona del Mar. All the way down there?

Five minutes later, she dialed, again.

"Hello?" It was a woman's voice, cautious and a little hesitant.

I hope I can pull this off! "Hello." Brandy said, "this is Mr. Berg's secretary, I have an urgent message for him!"

"He's not here!"

"Are you Miss, Trina Dawes?" Brandy asked. "He had some kind of appointment with you, I believe."

"Yes, I'm Trina! He was here, but he's gone now! Sorry, I can't help you." She was brisk, anxious to end the conversation.

"Then, he did get to interview you?"

Trina's laugh was brittle. "That's a good one! It's the first time I've ever heard it called that!"

"I'm sorry, I-I don't understand."

"Then, you don't know why your boss was here?"

"No, he-he didn't tell me."

"Well, he interviewed me, while we were both naked on my bed! Does that explain it?"

"Yes, yes, it does!" There was a catch in Brandy's voice.

"And, I hope to hell I never see him, again!" The line went dead.

Carrying her single suitcase, Trina left her apartment, purposely leaving several lights burning. She closed the door, locked it and went down the stairs to the carport.

Just as she was putting the bag in her car, it was roughly taken out of her hand.

She gasped, as she looked up into the unsmiling face of Bruce Stearns. He hefted the suitcase. "This feels like it's a little overweight, that is, if you happened to be going somewhere on an airline!"

"It's, j-just some things I'm taking, to a girlfriend's house." she lied.

"Now, that's a coincidence!" Bruce spat out at her. "A real coincidence, that just a few minutes after Mr. Alec Berg leaves here, you decide to take a little trip!"

"I don't know, wh-what you're talking about!"

"Berg's a private eye, and he's working for Mickey Pearson!" he barked. "Does that jog your memory?"

"You're wrong!" she gasped.

"No, I'm not! Now, what did you tell him?"

"Nothing! What could I tell him? I don't know anything!"

"Tell that to Mick, when we get there!" he told her grimly. "Now, get into my car! Don't cause any commotion, and you won't get hurt!"

God! How did I get involved, in all this?

When Mickey Pearson had left Alec Berg's office the day before, it hadn't taken him long to realize that he was being followed.

He first spotted the car while he was still on the streets, before gaining the freeway South. To find out for sure, he stopped at a newsstand, examined some magazines casually and finally bought a paper. The driver of the big Oldsmobile pulled past his parked car and stopped to wait. He wasn't able to get a good look at the driver, but he noted the letter and number combinations of the Olds' license tags, So, now they're tailing me! Trying to find out where I've moved to no doubt.

Getting back into his car, he headed for the freeway. The Oldsmobile stuck right with him, as he drove fast, then slowed down. The Olds' driver stayed right behind him through a couple of lane changes. There's no doubt at all! He's following me!

Mickey settled down to travel at sixty-five miles an hour in the number two lane of four lanes. He held his speed steady for seven or eight miles; then, he began slowing down, little by little, until he was cruising at fifty-five. The Olds crept up closer, until there were only four or five car-lengths between them.

Then, as he was approaching an off-ramp, and the third and fourth lanes were clear on his right, he suddenly gunned his rental Ford, cut across the two open lanes and darted into the off ramp, leaving the driver of the Olds a choice of following him to a certain crack-up, if he attempted the same maneuver, too late ... or continuing on down the freeway safely, losing Mickey, in the process. The driver of the Olds realized too late what had happened. It was impossible for him to follow. He chose the freeway and lost his man. Damn! I made it! And, all that guy knows is that I was headed south!

Making his way westward on one of the Boulevards, Mickey found the Coast route and followed it south towards home.

It worried him; things were rapidly coming to the boiling point. He was on edge, and he was cloddish with Claire in bed that night. Afterwards, he didn't sleep too well.

Now, the following day, he had spent at the Olympic working out, because he didn't want to get out of condition completely. He showered, spent several minutes swapping stories with some of the other boxers, then left the gymnasium to head for home.

This time, it was a big, green Pontiac that followed him. I'll have to shake this guy, for good, I guess, As he drove along the streets, his mind churned, trying to think of something. An idea formed in his brain. Damn it! Of course, that's it! Carry the fight to him!

Spotting a corner news kiosk, Mickey pulled in to park, hopped out of the car, on the right side, and sprinted along the sidewalk for three or four car-lengths. Ducking into a doorway, he waited.

The driver of the Pontiac, he saw, was the same man who had followed him the day before, and just as he had, yesterday, his pursuer pulled ahead of Mickey's parked car, angled into the curb and stopped.

Mickey walked out into the street and approached the car from the left front. The driver was twisted around, looking over his shoulder to where he expected his quarry to be at the newsstand.

Jerking the door open, Mickey hauled the man out and slammed him up hard against the rear fender.

"You looking for me?" he growled.

The man who had been trailing him was husky, heavily muscled and Mickey saw that his face bore the marks of many a bout, the gloves of his opponents having cut him, time after time.

"What the hell?" the old fighter snarled, his hand diving into a jacket pocket and coming up holding a snub-nosed pistol.

Mickey grabbed the gun hand and smashed it against the fender of the car. He heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones. The pistol dropped to the ground. The man who had been following him grabbed at his broken hand with a groan.

"Son-of-a-bitch! My hand's broke!"

Reaching down, Mickey picked up the pistol from the pavement and rapped out, "You're lucky that's all!"

"Why'n hell you do that?"

"Why have you been following me, the last two days?" Mickey countered.

"You're crazy! No such thing!" the other groaned.

As the injured man was speaking, Mickey studied his face, his memory clicking. He was almost sure that he knew who the man was.

"Why'd you pull this gun on me, just now?"

"Well, hell, I thought you were a mugger, or something!"

Mickey's memory dredged up a name: Dilfer, Joe Dilfer! He had been a welter-weight, one of the top ones. Let me see, maybe fifteen years ago.

"You knew who I was, Joe!" Mickey grunted.

"You're off your rocker! My name's."

"Joe Dilfer! Welter-weight, out of Des Moines, right at the top of the weight! You were even the contender for the title, one time, but it looks like the gamblers found your price! What was it, money, women, drugs?"

"Shut up! Damn you!"

"Now, you're packing a gun, and mixed up with a blackmailing thing! Christ! How low can a man get?" There was raw contempt in his voice for the former boxer.

Methodically, Mickey swung open the cylinder of Dilfer's snub- nosed pistol and extracted the shells; one by one he tossed them toward the iron grating of a flood-control inlet near the curb. When he was finished unloading the gun, he hurled it into the weeds of a vacant lot opposite Joe's parked car; then, reaching inside, he removed the ignition keys. They followed the pistol. In the waning light they would be hard to find.

Satisfied that the former boxer, turned gunman and blackmailer, wouldn't be able to follow him now, Mickey told Dilfer grimly, "Give this message to your boss, Joe. I don't scare easy!"

Walking purposefully to his own car, he got into it and left Joe Dilfer standing helplessly where he was, holding his broken hand and cursing through his groans of pain.



Cautiously, Alec Berg checked all around the immediate area before he climbed into his Mustang to leave Trina Dawes' apartment building. There's a damned good chance they might be watching her! Everything seemed to be clear. He drove away.

He had considered the possibility of Trina's being in some danger, and thought, perhaps, she should be in protective custody ... But, hell, she might not testify against Stansfield, and if it ever come out in court how I got my information from her, there'd be hell to pay, as far as I'm concerned! So, if she wants to play in the big time, she'll just have to take her chances!

Mickey would have to be told what he'd found out, so far, but the case was still a long ways from being settled. He'd have to have a lot more to go on, before he could take it to the police.

Remembering that the heavyweight fighter was going into L.A. to workout and probably wouldn't be home until late in the afternoon, Alec headed for the air-conditioned comfort of a bar to refresh himself and kill some time, before looking up Mickey's new address.

At about a quarter after six, Alec found the new apartment complex, walked up a flight to the number Mickey had given him, pushed the doorbell and waited, humming a tuneless popular song to himself.

The door opened. He recognized her, instantly. Claire! The other woman, in Trina's place! He stared at her hard.

"Claire?"

"You!" She started to slam the door in his face.

"Wait!" Alec said, holding the door back. "Are you, Claire Pearson, Mickey Pearson's wife?"

"What difference would that make?" Again, she struggled to close the door. He saw that she had been crying.

"Wait, Claire, let me explain?" he implored. "I'm a friend of Mickey's, and I have to see him."

"He isn't here!" Claire snapped. "Goodbye!"

"Look, Claire, it was just an accident, or a horrible coincidence, that you came into Trina's apartment, and it just happened! You know that, don't you?"

"Oh, p-please, just go away!" she sobbed, tears starting into her eyes, again.

"I've got a pretty good idea of why you went there." he began.

"That'd be none of your, b-business!"

"Trina's just like a lot of other prostitutes, you know."

Claire stared at him, unbelieving. "P-Prostitute?"

"Yes, didn't you know?"

Mutely, she shook her head in negative disbelief.

"Anyway, she's a man-hater, and gets her real kicks with other women!" he explained. "And, I gather, you and she had a thing going, and, and I just happened to be there as a customer!"

"Oooh, No!" Claire moaned, covering her face with both hands and turning away to slump into an overstuffed chair near the door.

Alec came to stand beside her. Looking down at her pitiable figure, he said, "Mickey'll never have to know, about her, or me, if that's the way you want it. It'll be our secret!"

"Oh, God, I'd just die, if Mickey, ever, f-found out!"

"He won't ever known he promised.

"Really?" Claire looked up at him gratefully through streaming eyes.

"Really! Just tell Mickey I called him, and have him call me at my office, in the morning, Okay? You don't even have to tell him I was here."

"All right." She dabbed at her eyes. "What did you say ... your name was?"

"Alec, Alec Berg."

As he looked down at her, remembering how she had climaxed under him, just a few hours ago, in Trina's apartment, he felt a surging rekindling of sexual arousal, the beginning of a throbbing erection. He repressed it. Damn it! No! She's so uptight, now, she doesn't know which way's which!

With an exertion of will, Alec forced himself to walk to the door and out; then, he turned and said, "Get yourself all prettied up! Mickey'll probably be here pretty soon, and you'll want to look your best for him!"

"A-All right, Mr. Berg."

"Alec!" he said. "And just forget that it ever happened! It was, well, just one of those things!"

l

He closed the door behind him and left her there. Christ! This changes everything, especially, the fact that she and Trina were having, a lesbian affair! What happens when they try to show her pictures of Mickey's little dalliance with Trina? Hell! There's no ball game, and they start playing real rough, with Mickey!



Alec drove rapidly along the freeways toward Santa Monica and home. It would be too late for dinner at home, so he stopped for a quick bite along the way. He hadn't spent much time at home the last few days, but tonight, he was determined to spend the whole evening-and night, too-with Brandy. Maybe, we can start working things out, now, and right after I finish up this thing for Mickey, we'll take that vacation, together!

Brandy's little, foreign car wasn't in the garage, when he parked. His natural thought was that she was out shopping, or visiting with one of her women friends.

His wife wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Walking back to the bedroom wing, he looked into their bedroom and found it a shambles.

"What the hell?" He looked around, dumbfounded, realizing that most of Brandy's things were missing. Christ! She's left me! He slumped down on the edge of the bed, drained, an empty shell. His first thoughts were bitter, almost paranoid. What made her leave? What did I do, to make her leave? Sure! I'm not home regular, but I'm out busting my ass to earn a living, a damn good one, too! Is there another man?

Finally, disconsolate, his mind in a chaotic whirl, he went out into the living room to get a good stiff drink. He mixed a triple, with a dash of water and a couple of ice cubes.

Then, he found Brandy's note, by the telephone. He picked it up and fortified himself with a gulp of his drink, before he read: Alec,

I'm leaving! You don't seem to need me, or want me. I found out where, today! How many other days, and nights have you spent with women, like that girl named Trina? I've got to think; that's why I'm leaving. Right now, all I can think about is how badly you've hurt me, and I need time to decide whether or not we should try, again, or get a divorce. Brandy

Divorce!? Goddamn! She's really, thinking about a divorce, and she doesn't even know why I went to see Trina Dawes!, But, how in hell did she find out where I was?

His own scribbled note was lying under Brandy's note. He picked it up, read it and figured his wife must have called Trina's number. There's no telling what that little bitch might have told her! Looking at the scrap of paper, he remembered that he had put it in his shirt pocket, And, she found it, and made a federal case out of it, practically, or anyway, she's working on a divorce case, ours!

And, there was no way of knowing where she might have gone, no way of getting in touch with her, to explain, try to make her understand, that Trina meant nothing more than a source of information, a part of his job.

Alec was sure that he loved his wife. Now, I've lost her! Then, he proceeded to sit there, slugging down one drink after the other, until alcoholic oblivion overcame him.

The insistent ringing of the telephone awakened him finally at ten o'clock the following morning. He struggled to the desk and picked up the handset.

"Yeah?" he said thickly.

"Mr. Berg, this is Judith. Mr. Pearson has been calling you. He insisted that you told him to call."

"What? Oh, yeah, I did." he mumbled. "Tell the operator, to put him through to my home phone, Okay?"

"All right, Mr. Berg," his secretary said.

"Alec! Just call me Alec, Judith! By the way what time is it?"

"It's ten-oh-five, Alec," Miss Howser said sweetly.

"Thanks, and I'll wait here for Mickey Pearson's call!"

He was fully awake ten minutes later, when Mickey called again.

"Claire told me you wanted to talk to me, Alec."

"I do! Now, listen carefully! I know it's Stansfield, for sure! He's got two bird dogs out! One's a guy by the name of Bruce Stearns. The other's named Dilfer!"

"Yeah, I know Joe Dilfer. He used to be a fighter a few years back," Mickey said. "He was following me the last two days ... and last night I put him out of commission!"

"What happened?" Berg inquired.

Quickly, Mickey filled him in, with a few laconic details.

Alec added his own experience. "And, Stearns tried to run me down with his car!"

"They're wanting to play rough, now, eh?"

"Yes! Now, there's a new development, I can't tell you about, but it makes me believe that the next step, is to get you, either to cripple you, make sure you won't be fighting ... or, try to kill you!"

"They wouldn't go, that far?!"

"Don't bet on it!" Alec snapped. "They haven't located your new apartment, yet, and you're too big a target, when they do, so I want you to drop out of sight. Pack a minimum of things and meet me at my office in forty-five minutes!"

"You serious?" Mickey questioned. "What about my wife?"

"Don't tell her where you're going! The less she knows the better, and she'll be safe where she is, because now, it's you they're after! If you're in a hospital, or a morgue, you'll be no threat to Stansfield, and his plan to clean up on the next championship fight!"

"Where'll I be going?"

"To a little cabin I've got, up in the mountains!"



Brandy Berg didn't really like to drink, but she had just poured the third martini for herself, determined to get drunk, falling down drunk, for the first time in her life. Tomorrow, after she sobered up, she'd start thinking about what she would do ... try to make a decision as to what she would do, go back to Alec and try, again, or file for divorce. Right then, divorce was the obvious solution, Except, that I think I do love him! If only, I hadn't been so snoopy and found out about th- that cheap little whore, h-he was with!

Letting himself in with the key that Alec had given him, Mickey Pearson carried in his single, light suitcase, set it down, locked the door and turned around to see a blonde vision of loveliness struggling to her feet from the divan where she had been sitting.

"Who are you?" she snapped. "And where'd you get a key, to get in here?"

Mickey was surprised. Alec had told him the place would be empty. "I'm sorry, I thought the place was vacant." Mickey began.

"Well, it isn't, as you can see! I'm here!" Brandy told him. "So, you can leave, now!"

"Let me explain, I'm Mickey Pearson, and Alec Berg, who owns this place sent me up here to stay, for a while!"

"And, I'm Brandy Berg, Alec's wife, and I say you can't stay here!" She swayed toward him unsteadily. "So, get out!"

Mickey knew then that she had been drinking. Curious, he asked, "Does Alec know you're here?"

"No! I've left him!" She sat back down, as tears welled into her deep blue eyes.

For a moment, the big boxer stood there, undecided, not knowing what to say, or do.

"I-If there's, anything I can do?" he fumbled.

"There's nothing, a-anybody can do!" she sobbed.

"If, I knew why, maybe I could talk to him." Mickey offered.

"You'd never understand!"

"Why don't you try me, Mrs. Berg." he soothed. "Sometimes talking about things, makes them easier."

"I'm too miserable, about it all!" she sniffled.

"I'll listen, if you want to talk, Brandy."

And suddenly, Brandy felt as though she wanted to tell this big stranger her troubles. He seemed to be so concerned, and he was a friend of Alec's, And, maybe he could help, by talking to Alec, and letting him know how I-I feel,

"A-All right, I'll tell you." Brandy sniffled. "Drink?"

"Okay, I'll have a drink with you." he agreed. "Whiskey."

She arose uncertainly and made her way to the portable bar, where she made a bourbon and water for him; then, turning she brought it back across the room. Mickey saw her sway and lose her balance. Instantly, he was there to catch her. He took the drink from her, and she was in the circle of his arms, leaning against his broad, heavily muscled chest.

"Oh, I'm, s-so woozy."

He helped her to the couch, and he couldn't help noticing the luscious curves of her body. He tingled where she had leaned against him, and he felt that sudden surge of pounding blood into his loins, erecting his penis to vibrantly throbbing life. Damn! She's some woman! I could really go for her, but Christ, she's Alec's wife!

Then, she was talking, telling him of her suspicions that Alec had been unfaithful to her, that she knew she wasn't the best kind of wife, in bed, But, I was going to try to learn some of those things, he wanted me to do, if they'd make him happier, and keep him from, going t-to other women!

"Such as?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, different positions, and things with your m-mouth."

"I see."

"But, now, I'll never get the chance!"

She dissolved into tears again, and she leaned against him for comfort. His arms went around her, and he stroked her soft, honey-gold hair gently, lightly; then, he caressed and stroked the