head of the organ pumping against the inner muscles of my anus. Then, just before he slipped out, he grunted, and thrust in again savagely, and I cried out with the pleasure.
'Oh… yes!' I screamed, pressing back to greet his inward thrust. 'Oh… yesf
It was easy then, and Sidney ground his hips around, pressing the shaft of his cock around in a tight circle in my ass. I could feel him pushing up and down, exploring the tight new passageway, searching out all the new corners and pockets of pleasure. Then he pulled back again, and I felt the passageway collapsing with intense sexual pleasure.
'That's it… In and out,' I cried. We were in rhythm now, and we were fucking. He was thrusting in and out, and I was matching his sexual tempo. We were working together, fucking each other. 'In and out… in and out… in and outF
Sidney gripped my hips with firm, unyielding hands. He pushed and pulled me, driving his turgid cock in and out of my climbing asshole. *Tm gonna come!' he grunted. I could feel his excitement as his cock quivered inside of me. 'Sally… I'm gonna come!'
'Yes… yes!' I cried. 'Come in me! Come in me! In my ass… in my ass..; come in my ass!'
Sidney's cock began to swell, and he thrust in hard, deep, deeper than anything I've ever felt. I could feel his balls rising up against the soft cheeks of my ass. 'Now!… Now!… now!… now'
He began to come. It was as though someone were pouring molten lead into my asshole. His sperm gushed into me, like magna, like lava, like liquid fire… coating my anal canal until it dripped from the drowning rnouth of my anus, and oozed all over my fluttering cunt.
The moment the first drop of sperm touched me, perhaps before it touched me, I began to come.
The orgasm began at a peak they usually end at, and it soared upward from there. Higher and higher and higher, one orgasm after another, like an endless string, with no second of breath between, no moment of relaxation. One on top of another on top of another on top of another until they reached so high the pleasure was a scream in my ears. Then I realized it was my own scream, and I was screaming at the top of my lungs because the pleasure, the orgasm was so powerful, so total that it simply could not get out of my body fast enough. I had to provide another exit. I screamed it from my body.
More and more sperm gushed into me, and orgasm piled on top of orgasm. After a moment my scream wasn't enough, and I fell heavily onto the bed, with Sidney still in my ass, pumping away.
Something black and soft came up around my awareness and wrapped it carefully away. I tell into it, grateful for its numbness.
When I woke Siney was gone. Sperm dribbled from my anus like blood from any open wound. I staggered from the bed.
On the dresser top, I found fifty dollars, payment from Sidney. I took the money with me into the bathroom. I tore it up and flushed it down the toilet. I didn't do it for the money.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I leaned on the doorbell, and somewhere inside the magnificent hollow of the huge mansion, I heard the far off echo ringing.
It was dark and I looked behind me, more than a little nervous. I had purchased a car, my first, a little foreign type, and it was sitting across from me, in the shadows of the ramp of the house. As yet I wasn't a good driver, but I was learning. I found out very early that you needed a car in California almost as much as you needed money. I looked at my watch and rang the bell again.
I was late, I knew, and I guess that's why I was nervous. I got lost on my way up from L.A., even though I followed the road map. Santa Teresa seemed such an easy town to find. Perhaps I should have made a test run during the daylight hours. Then, at least, I would have known where I was going.
From somewhere within the bowels of the massive estate I heard a shuffle of feet running across thick caipeting. I waited patiently at the door for the sound to come closer. It seemed to be coming from far off. Finally the door parted, and a bright light leaked out into the night.
In the center of the light there was a man. T^ll, thin, balding, in a dark suit, white shirt and tie. He looked coldly out at me. 'Yes?' he said.
I could see glimpses of the house behind him, and the inside seemed as magnificent as the outside had. There seemed to be a wide high hallway just beyond the door, and in the center there hung a glittering chandelier. I could see a spiraling marble staircase just beyond, twisting off into the shadows two stories above my head.
'Can I help you, young lady?' the man asked again, touched with impatience. I moved my eyes from the splendor, finding it hard to imagine that people really lived in houses like this. Having that much money made my brain anxious because I simply could not grasp the differences in our lifestyles. For me this much wealth was part of a fantasy world. Millionaires and actors might live this way, but not real people. Not people like me. I trained my eyes on the man inside of the pool of light and gave him my best smile. I'm Sally Bryant. Are you Mr. Burroughs? Mr. Lawrence W. Burroughs?' 'Certainly not, Miss.'
'1 flustered for a moment. 'But this is his residence, isn't it?'
He gave me a very long, suspicious look. 'Yes, it is.'
'Well, I'm Sally Bryant. I'm here about the… film. You know… the film.'
He nodded gravely. 'I thought perhaps you might be, Miss. Come with me and I will take you to Mr. Burroughs.' He closed the door behind me and led me through the main hallway. I saw the chandelier clearly now, and it was suspended high above the floor, bolted to a white domed ceiling. The staircase was wide and flowing, and I expected Loretta Young to come gliding down it at any moment. It was that kind of house. It reminded me of a hundred movie sets from -the forties.
But Loretta Young didn't come down the spiral stairway, and we went up it instead. There was a thick burgundy colored rug under foot, and it absorbed the sound of our walking, and turned it into whispers.
We reached the top landing, turned to the left, and continued down a long hallway. The same burgundy rug was underfoot, stretching from wall to wall,, and running out in front of us, down the long hallway, for what seemed a mile or two. There were paintings on the walls, originals, and I recognized some French Impressionists. Every once and a while there was a small sofa or a high-backed chair that reminded me of a throne pushed to either side of the hallway walls. It gave me the impression that I was in the lobby of an old-time movie house.
We stopped at one door, and the tall dark man knocked gently. 'Sir,' he said. Behind the door someone said: 'What is it, Perez?' 'A Miss Sally Bryant to see you, sir.'
'Good. Good. Send her in. And thank you, Perez. I won't be needing you any further tonight.'
'Very good, sir.' He nodded at the closed door. Then he turned back to me. 'You may go in now, Miss. Mr. Burroughs will see you now.'
He nodded to me, then turned and walked back the endless hallway, leaving me standing alone in front of the high white door with the gold trimming. I didn't know what to do, so I knocked.
The same voice from inside said: 'Come in, Miss Bryant The door is unlocked.'
The door handle was gold, covered with a fine, intricate pattern. It fit my hand smoothly, and I tightened my fingers around it. There was an ahnost inaudible clicking sound, and I pushed the door open.
I entered what was probably the library. At least there were bookcases on all four walls, from floor to the high ceiling, and the shelves were stuffed with books. The room had a faintly musty smell, and was lighted by a few small-watt bulbs very high above us.
Mr. Burroughs was sitting directly in front of me, in a wheel chair. That was something that was unexpected, but what shocked me even more was his age. He looked as if he was a hundred. He was old and wrinkled, bent over in the chair, and completely bald. But there was life in his gray eyes, and perhaps a wisdom that matched his many years.
'Good evening, Miss Bryant,' he said. His voice was remarkably strong, and seemed incongruous to the frailty of his body. 'You are a very beautiful young woman.'
I flushed. 'Thank you, Mr. Burroughs.' I began to walk towards him, but he held up his hand.
'Please stay there, Miss Bryant. I would rather admire you from this distance.'
