Suddenly her back arched, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him against her. A strangled sound escaped her lips and she writhed through her orgasm.
But it was only the beginning – for both of them. 'Now my cunt!' she gasped. 'Fill my cunt up with your big, beautiful cock! I want it so bad! Fuck me, fuck me good… FUCK ME!'
She pulled his body over hers and pushed one of his hands under her buttocks. Her cunt was slick I and yielding to his probing fingers. The juices from her pussy flowed across his hand.
It was all his passion needed.
His cock rose between her spread thighs. She gripped the twitching dick, stroking and squeezing it.
His cock became harder and throbbed unbearably.
His meat leaped toward her cunt. He thrust into her, burying his prick until nothing remained outside her pussy. He lifted her legs to his shoulders so that every thrust of his hungry hips gave him the greatest penetration into her hole.
Her body responded in kind. She slithered and began a grinding series of gyrations that sent her whole body to an immediate peak of desperate fulfillment.
'Yes, darling, yes!' she cried. 'I love it! Oh, God, I love it!'
'Oh, Jesus, I love it, too… I always will. And I'll always need it.'
'Fuck me, Wiley… fuck me and make me come! Over and over and over! Make my pussy come on your big, fat prick!'
His cock throbbed inside her tight, moist cunt. Her hips seemed to be welded to his. Her voice became low and husky, in a growl that became a sound of pleasure mixed with pain as again and again he rammed to the very bottom of her hole with the hard head of his hungry cock.
'Don't stop, darling! Don't! Cut me up with it!' the voice said. 'Oh, your cock is so good!'
Harder and harder, he sent his cock fucking into her tender cunt until their two bodies became one, hurtling through an eternity of timeless and weightless space.
She worked on his prick, using her hips in all directions at once, taking all of his cock with each thrust. At last he burst forth with his own flood. Somewhere in his consciousness he heard her say, 'Don't save it. Let me have it! Let me have the whole fucking load… come in me… give it all to me!'
Her legs locked around him even tighter as the final, convulsive spasms of release took over their bodies at the same time. Wiley flooded her belly with his massive spurts of nun as she writhed her way through a spastic climax that left her limp and drained beneath him.
They lay side by side, silent for a long time.
Then he spoke. 'It was good, baby,' he said. 'It was as good as I thought it would be.'
'Was it good enough to come back for more? And more? And more?'
'You know it was.'
She sighed. A relaxed sigh, deep with relief. 'Good. Then maybe with you, I'll last longer than a one-night stand. To tell you the truth, I haven't been too lucky with men.'
'Hey, Jennie, listen. I love you. In fact, I might even…'
The phone clamored in his ear and he rolled away from her to answer it.
'Shit,' Jennie said, and went into the living room to get their drinks and cigarettes.
'Hello? Yes, operator. It's my brother in San Francisco,' he said over his shoulder, not realizing that she had left the room. 'Yeah, Mark?'
Jennie took her time fixing the drinks. In fact, she drank one and made another before returning to the bedroom.
'What the fuck?'
He was wildly pulling on his clothes and throwing others into a bag. 'I've gotta go.'
'Yeah, I know. You've got your nooky, now you got to go.'
'I'm serious.'
'So am I. You assholes are all alike – get it up, get it in, get it off, and get out.' She swallowed half her drink.
'Dammit, it's important!'
'Dammit, so's my mental state! Where?'
'Where what?'
'Where the fuck are your going?' She finished the drink.
'San Francisco.'
'Jesus Christ, that's halfway around the world.'
'Just the country. I'll be back soon.'
'How soon?'
'I don't know.'
'That's what I thought, prick.' She threw the glass at him.
He ducked and grabbed his bag. 'Want to kiss me good-bye?'
'Fuck you!'
Eighteen hours later, Wiley Morrison was standing in front of a bank of buzzers and mail boxes. They belonged to an apartment house managed by Harry and Laura Fine in San Francisco.
He ran his thumb across the names, paused at '201 Ginny Monet', and went on until he found 'Fine, manager'.
He was about to push the button, when the door opened behind him. He turned and stared into the smiling, elfin face of a young girl. The face was topped and halved by a mane of red hair that looked as though it had just toppled from a T.V. screen commercial for some shampoo.
He didn't look at her body, but he could tell there was a lot of it beneath the too-tight sweater and the skin- tight jeans.
'Hello,' she said. 'You lookin' for a room?'
She had freckles on her nose. He let his eyes roam downward. From the neck up she had looked about eighteen, maybe nineteen. From the neck down, it was impossible to tell.
'Uh, yeah, that's what I'm doin'.'
'Good!' There was a lot more than one word in her look. She was staring straight at his crotch. 'I'm Trina Fine. My mom is the manager here.'
A man, about fifty, small with a weasel face, came staggering out of the house. He brushed against Wiley, mumbled something, and staggered down the stairs.
'That's my old man,' Trina said. 'On the way to the nearest saloon. If you want to see Mom, you'll find her on the second floor, second door to the right. She's cleaning up the apartment. Couple moved out the other day, left behind a dozen empty whiskey bottles.'
'Thanks,' Wiley said, starting to go into the lobby.
'You can leave your suitcase here, in case you don't like the room,' the girl said.
'I'm not particular,' Wiley said. He held on to the suitcase.
'Trina isn't particular either,' she grinned. 'Neither is my mom.'
He went into the lobby and started up the stairs. Now what did she mean by all that?
The second door to the right was open. A woman in halter and shorts was using a mop and pail. She looked up as Wiley appeared in the doorway. She was about forty, he judged, and a bit on the heavy side. Her breasts were large and the nipples made dents in the halter. Her stomach was softly rounded and the naval appeared over the top of the shorts. Her thighs were fleshy but attractive. Her hair was brown and short.
She studied Wiley for a full moment before she spoke. 'You lookin' for a room? I'm cleanin' this one up. Nice strong bed, good size closet, walk-in type, and you don't have to share the bathroom with anyone. You got your own. One of the few rooms with a bathroom. Interested?'
He walked in, studied the room casually. 'I'll tell you, I might only need it for a few weeks.'
'Okay by me. Forty bucks a week. You an actor?'
Wiley paused. 'Yeah.'
'Two weeks in advance. We get a lot of actors.'
'Okay.' He put his suitcase down. 'I'll pay you now. Just give me a receipt.'
The woman grinned. 'Wait for me downstairs. Apartment one. It'll take me five more minutes to finish
