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BSS-616 Blackmailed by William Davis

Chapter 1

Jay Ballard watched the provocative sway of Karen’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 Forrester 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.

Karen 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 Jay, than when
he’d witnessed the man’s last bout.

It had taken place last week, at the Olympic. Jay had been there, in
the fifth row, watching Arnie 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 knock-out. Jay remembered
it had been Arnie’s devastating left hook that had put BoBo Wilson on
the canvas for the full count.

The fight had been clean. BoBo Wilson 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 Wilson … 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.
Arnie Pearson was now the principal contender for the Heavyweight
Boxing Title.

“Arnie!” Jay 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 Jay pointed to and sat up ramrod straight in it, his body tense,
unrelaxed.

“Well, Mr. Ballard … I haven’t been robbed of the family jewels …
yet …” he joked, lamely, his face settling into grim lines.

Jay laughed, heartily, while Arnie 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 BoBo Wilson …” Jay 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! Wilson’s a good man … a good fighter … hard to
beat … one of the best in the business!” Arnie said. “… But,
according to some people … I was supposed to lose that fight!”

“Well … I don’t think Wilson had a chance … from the opening bell
… even if he was favored, by the bettors!” Jay 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. Ballard … but I’m …”

“Just call me Jay …” the detective interrupted.

“Okay … Jay, 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!” Arnie 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! BoBo was the man to put money on …!
Why would anybody want you to take a nosedive …?” Jay queried.

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

“That’s what bothered me, too … but afterwards, when I started
thinking about it … it does make sense … if they had BoBo tied up
… and he were the contender, instead of me …!”

Rubbing both hands up over his greying temples, Jay 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?” Arnie spat his words out fast, wanting confirmation of
what he thought about it.

“Christ … do you know what you’re saying …?” Jay questioned.

“I sure as hell do! I’m the question mark … because they couldn’t get
to me!” Arnie 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!”

Jay 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!” Arnie defended.

“I understand all that … but where was your wife, Arnie?”

“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. Jay was digesting information, and he did
understand, perfectly, how he had fallen into the trap.

Arnie 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!”

Jay 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 Arnie’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!”

Arnie Pearson was game. He told Jay Ballard everything he could
remember about that night.

*   *   *

It had been jubilant and hectic in Arnie’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
Arnie 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 Carla … Carla Reynolds, a
ravishing, auburn-haired beauty, with the clearest complexion Arnie 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, Arnie 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, Arnie was seated on a plush couch,
while the party swirled around them, Carla 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, “Arnie … 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.

Arnie 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 …?”

“Warren 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 Warren was; his memory dredged up the image of
a short, square-built man with almost silvery white hair.

“Is Warren 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 Warren … Warren Ramsey,” 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 Joan, before now …
but he had known, when he had accepted Carla’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 Carla 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!” Arnie 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, Arnie?”

“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 Carla, 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 Warren Ramsey’s house party, together, in his rented car.
Carla Reynolds snuggled up close beside him, as he drove, following her
directions.

Arnie 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, Carla’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 … Arnie … 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!” Carla 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,” Arnie 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 Joan 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 Carla had
issued her sexy invitation to the party, tonight. Sure! It was wrong!
… But, what the hell! … Even if Joan 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 … Arnie …” 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.

Arnie parked the car, and they went up to her apartment. Once they were
inside, Carla 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 … Arnie! 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!”

Carla 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!”

Carla 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, Arnie 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, Carla 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.

Arnie’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.

Arnie 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.

Arnie 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 Carla’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.

Arnie 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,
Carla 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.

Carla 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 … Arnie …?”

“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
Carla, 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,
Arnie growled, “Come on … Carla, 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 Arnie 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 … Arnie, 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.

Carla’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, Arnie … until I can’t breathe!”

Arnie 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, Carla, 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.

Arnie, 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, Arnie 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, Carla’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, Arnie 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 …

Arnie’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 jack-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 Carla 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!”

Arnie 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, Arnie 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,
Carla whimpered with fright.

“What do you want?” Arnie 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, Arnie 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.

Arnie obeyed, his now flaccid penis pulling, moistly, from Carla’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, Arnie knew he’d been set-up for this.
Carla! 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?”

Arnie 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! Arnie … 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!”

Carla 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?” Jay 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 … Joan … my wife, changed her mind … and came on out here,
to Los Angeles,” Arnie 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,” Ballard summarized, “As I see it … I’ve got to find
Carla Reynolds … and find out what her connection is to this little
blackmailing job … and I suppose I’d better check out Warren Ramsey
…”

“Why him … he’s some kind of industrialist?” Arnie 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!” Jay told him.

“Then … you’re saying you’ll take the job?”

“Yes … I’m working for you … as of right now.” Ballard said.

The prizefighter was gone, and Jay mulled over all that the boxer had
told him. He decided that his first job would be to locate Carla
Reynolds. Tomorrow … I’ll check through Dunn and Bradstreet … see
what I can scare up on Ramsey …

Pressing the intercom button, he said to his secretary, “Karen … call
my wife … and tell her that I’m working on a case … I won’t be
home, until late … probably.”

“Yes, sir … Mr. Ballard … right away!” Her voice came, tinnily,
through the tiny speaker.

“… And, Karen …?”

“Yes, Sir …?”

“Knock off that Mister stuff … and the yes, Sir, no, Sir bit! You’re
supposed to be my private secretary!”

Chapter 2

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

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

Betty 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 Jay 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 Jay Ballard, 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 Jay’s work on it.
Betty wondered about that.

Jay 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.

Jay 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. Jay had been a bachelor for too long to
be domesticated easily. His habits, his working schedule and his
attitudes were too deeply ingrained, and Betty, 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 Jay 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. Jay 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, Jay 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, Jay 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 Jay came into the bedroom, the reeking fumes of alcohol preceded
him. He was drunk, again. Betty 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!” Betty 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 Jay … 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, Betty 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 … Jay, 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, Jay 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!

Jay 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, Jay …! 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 clitoris, hidden in its fleshy folds at the top of her
female slit.

“Oh, God … Jay … why are you d-doing this t-to me …?” she sobbed.

He had laughed a hard, cruel laugh. “Because … Mrs. Ballard … 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 clitoris,
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!”

Betty 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!

“Jay! Oh, Jay … 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 vagina 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 Jay … my husband … d-
doing it! … But, she couldn’t believe it!

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 vagina, rolling waves of her tender
flesh before his rampaging cock.

Lying there, helplessly dominated, under her husband, Jay, 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 … Jay!” 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 Jay’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.

Betty 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, Jay 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 … Jay … 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
Betty Ballard. Nothing!

Squirming from beneath Jay’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 Jay finally got out of bed, showered and came into
the kitchen where Betty 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 …”

Betty 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 … Betty?” Jay 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!

Chapter 3

“But you don’t understand, Joan …” Arnie 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’s where Harry wants me to work out …”

“Well … do we have to stay here in Santa Monica?” Joan tossed her
jet-black hair, as she swept her eyes around the apartment, Arnie 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!” Arnie 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 Joan with me!

Of course, Arnie 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 Joan was definitely a
sexy woman … beautiful almost to perfection, and she did try to
please him … most of the time. That’s why Arnie put up with the rest
of it … otherwise … But, Damn! Carla’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 Joan was going to stay with him. I won’t have to go
looking for it … It’ll be right there … when I want it!

Arnie hadn’t told Harry Nash about the blackmail thing … at least not
yet; he was waiting to see what Jay Ballard 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. God damn it … 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 Joan, for very obvious reasons. Damn …
when they get to her … finally … there’s going to be all hell to
pay!

*   *   *

Joan went apartment hunting. She found exactly what she wanted … in
Corona del Mar!

Arnie was appalled when she told him … on two counts: The location!
Christ! Carla Reynolds 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!” Joan 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 …” Joan confessed to the auburn-haired
woman who sat across from her.

They were in a plush cocktail lounge, drinking a leisurely martini …
at Carla’s invitation. Carla had spotted Joan Pearson that afternoon in
her favorite Hairdresser’s Salon.

Like many prostitutes, Carla 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. Joan was appreciative of her easy,
friendly ways, the sparkling conversation … the invitation to an
afternoon cocktail … and so, there they were. Carla 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 … Carla knew
what to do … It would be a nice afternoon interlude before the
evening’s work.

“I just know you’ll love it, here!” Carla told her, her grey-green eyes
smoldering over the rim of her glass.

Joan felt a little uneasy, but she decided that it was just
friendliness … and the alcohol that caused Carla’s eyes to do those
things.

And, later … after the second round of drinks … when Carla 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 …
Joan had some second thoughts. She really should be home when Arnie 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 …” Carla smiled, mysteriously.

In the back of her mind, Joan 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, Joan 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 Joan long to find
out why … She hadn’t thought about women as sex-objects … until
this very moment … when Carla 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 Carla’s apartment they shared another drink. Joan 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. Carla put her glass down on the low coffee table,
decisively. There’s no point … in wasting any more time!

Direct, as always, Carla, seated on the couch next to Joan, 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, Joan 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 … Carla! Wh-What … are you doing? What do you
… w-want …?”

“You know what I want! You!” Carla hissed, her grey-green eyes burning
into Joan’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!”
Carla 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!” Joan 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 …?” Carla 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 Carla’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, Joan 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 …!

Joan’s own hand followed Carla’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!” Carla spat, her lips
twisting around the obscenity, lewdly.

Joan 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, Arnie, 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, Carla 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 Carla spat out in her hate and frustration, her vengefulness
contorting her beautiful face as she spoke.

Somehow, Joan 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 Arnie … 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 Arnie 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 Arnie’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
Carla … 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 Carla’s voice came to her, soothingly, through the pounding in
her head.

“Everything’s going to be all right … Baby …” Carla crooned.
“You’ll see … It’ll be out of this world … for you …”

Looking down at the lovely woman on her bed, Carla Reynolds 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
Joan 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 Joan was hotter … more
ready and more receptive than any woman she had ever seduced.

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

Fascinated, in fact … almost hypnotized, Joan 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, Carla 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 clitoris. 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, Joan affirmed it with a little wag of her head.

Sidling onto the bed, beside her, Carla ran her hands over Joan’s
softly rounded body, her warm hands sending tiny thrills coursing
through her.

“Now … let’s get you stripped, too …” Carla cooed, beginning
already to unbutton buttons.

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

“Oh … lovely …” Carla breathed, stretching out beside the black-
haired beauty of Joan’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 Carla’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 … Carla … I-I can’t! I just … c-can’t!” she strangled
out.

“Yes … you can!” Carla’s voice was low, intense. “Let me teach you
… Just relax … and let me show you how …”

Turning Joan to face her, on the bed, the more experienced Carla
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 Joan’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, Joan relaxed against her, her arms going out to Carla, and
their kiss was fired with passion. Carla’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 Joan. 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, Joan began to respond to Carla. 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 Carla’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 Carla’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 … Carla 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: Carla with sure knowledge … and Joan with the
timid sense of a neophyte. All the while, the fires of sensuality in
their loins raged into uncontrollable, licking flames of desire. Joan
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!” Carla 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!”

Carla’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 Arnie 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!” Carla 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, Carla recaptured Joan’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,
Carla’s auburn-haired one grinding in against the curling darkness of
Joan’s with wildly excited abandon.

Reaching over her, Carla pulled the full orbs of Joan’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 clitoris. 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<