| i hope you like it's my first post.Chapter 1Pamela Harper lay alone in her bed with the awareness, the growingconcern and concomitant anxiety, that her life was basically empty. Nomatter how hard she tried to structure it, to give it a unifying senseof order or purpose, she sensed that without someone next to her toshare her dreams, her goals and aspirations, life wasn't really worth adime.How many mornings have I awakened like this ... with nothing, just acareer, but no one alongside of me? This question and others passedacross her mind. She looked up and stared at the ceiling as if she wassearching for an answer, a solution to the emptiness in her heart.Love was the problem, and at twenty-eight it seemed to be her biggestconcern. The daily hassles of making a living, of running a business andmaking ends meet, were not nearly as disconcerting as the fact that shewas not in love. Indeed, she was acutely aware of the last time she hadfelt anything akin to romantic involvement, and that had been more thanfive years before, right after she had graduated from college.But the past five years she referred to as a desert, a wasteland.Men had come and gone, in and out of her life. Had she been a woman whowas basically unappealing, physically as well as mentally, she wouldhave been able to give herself a much needed rationalization for heroverwhelming sense of loneliness. But there was no way for her toconvince herself that men didn't turn somersaults over her.And that too was a problem, keeping them off of her, getting them outthe door before things really took on a leering shade of carnal red.Like what had happened last night, for example. She thought of that now,glad too that it was Sunday morning and she didn't have to get out ofbed and get the shop open and ready for customers.On Sundays she had a neighborhood boy clean out the pens and feed theanimals, so she didn't have to worry about getting up and rushing out ofher apartment. That was what Dick Truman had told her, too. "You don'thave to get up early tomorrow, Pam, so what's the big hassle, anyway?"It had been less of a question than a statement. No, time hadn't beenthe hassle. Only Dick Truman, anxious to have her on a silver platterlike a roast suckling pig. He's the pig, she said to herself, shudderingat the thought and then wondering too if she just might be frigid ... ormaybe even just a little bit frigid.After all, Dick was certainly an attractive guy. But he was too pushyfor her, too much of a hard-drinking bruiser. He didn't have a gentletouch and that had turned her off from him, from the very first.I just won't accept any more dates from him, that's all, she decided,right then and there. Pam wondered if it had been her fault, if she hadled the man on, agreeing to go out with him for what had been four datesover as many weeks. And last night had been the clincher, that's forsure."What are you, some cockteasing ball-buster!" he had shouted when theywere alone in her apartment, when she had once again rebuffed his sexualadvances, feigning first a headache and then a lack of interest inmaking love with him."Just get out of here and leave me alone," she had snapped back, sorryshe had ever been conned--for that was the way Pam saw it--into lettinghim come into the apartment for a nightcap. "A nightcap isn't aeuphemism for let's f***, Mr. Truman!""I don't think you'd know how, anyway, kiddo," the man had replied, ascocky and sure of himself as she had always felt him to be. "Have a goodlife, baby, a good long horny life." And with that he had let himselfout, slamming the door behind him.She hated herself for breaking down after he had stormed out, forcollapsing on the couch, her body racked with sobs. Because what PamelaHarper couldn't deal with was the fact that whatever Dick had saidsomehow rang true. She hadn't enjoyed sex with a man in ages, more thanjust weeks or even a month or two.And she knew it was abnormal to stifle her desires, to squelch hersexual appetites, all in the name of love. It wasn't as if she was avirgin, or even an old maid. At the ripe young age of twenty-eight shewas more of a woman than ever before. Full-hipped, narrow-waisted,blessed with a plentiful and upthrust bustline and features which seemedto remind men of the heads adorning cameo pins, she was a woman who wasvery much aware of her own allure, her sexual magnetism, in particular.Hadn't she caught the boy who helped her out during the week and onSundays, giving her the eye? She knew she had, knew that half of thesales she made at her shop were partly due to the fact that not only wasshe a natural born saleswoman, but the fact that she was too lush andseductive to say no to.Truman had felt that, she decided. But she had been the one who had saidno to him, the one who had denied him not only his pleasure, but alsohers in addition. Not for one minute did she doubt that he would be goodin bed. But she wasn't in love with him and knew that there was nochance in the world she would ever be."But you don't have to be in love to get f*****," he had told her thatnight, rephrasing a line he had used on each of their four dates. "It'sjust nice to sleep with someone, to give someone pleasure and getpleasure as a result ... of giving, of giving to someone else, Pam."He had been earnest, she knew, but it still hadn't changed the situationnor changed her mind one iota. "They don't understand me, Bix. That'sthe problem," she said aloud. "They just don't know what kind of personI am. I give, I have feelings ... don't I?"In response, Bix crawled up from where he had been sleeping at the footof Pam's bed. He sat up and cocked his head to the side; his dark liquidbrown-black eyes seemingly reflecting her every questioning thought andturn of mood."You're a good boy, Bixie. You understand me ... not like anyone else,"she went on. She reached out and ran her fingers over the top of theScottish terrier's head. He yapped happily and scooted up over thecovers to sit on top of her chest.Despite his thirty pounds of hard bone and muscle, his weight was not inthe least bit uncomfortable. Her hands snaked down along the Scottie'sflanks and she ran her fingers through the thicker fur along his sides,then down over his back where the hair had just been stripped.It was tough as nails, wiry and jet-black."You're a champ, ya know that, Bixie. You're Champion Sir Bix Reliant.That's what it says on your papers. But you're just good old Bixie tome, feller."In response, the dog lay down on top of her blanketed body, arched hisshort muscular neck and proceeded to lavish her face with kisses. Hisspoon-shaped tongue slapped raspily over her cheeks and lips and shesmiled contentedly to herself.At least animals understand me, she thought, knowing she had chosen aperfect profession. She ran a pet shop--Pam's Pet Palace said thebrightly lettered sign over her front windows. All day she wassurrounded by the chattering and chirping, the barking and meowing ofmonkeys and parrots, puppies and kittens.But when she came home at night, all she had was Bix, faithful and therefor her. But still a dog, not a man. Now, the Scottie continued to lickher face with his rough raspy-edged tongue. Pam hugged him close againsther, wanting to cry but unable to produce tears to sluice down hercheeks.The anguish was there, but trapped, locked inside of her. She didn'teven feel sorry for herself, either, despite what she saw as anaccumulation of thwarted passions, or perhaps just a lack of emotion,her feelings stifled inside of her.Whether or not it was a defense mechanism, a subconscious barrier sheput up around herself to ward off men, was something that only apsychiatrist could tell her. And since she was not in analysis, she hadto rely on her own sense of self. She'd introspected on matters such asthese for years, never coming up with an answer that would somehow savethe day and save her life from the drudgery of being alone.Now, Bix was there for her and she knew it was better than nothing. Thedog was obviously quite content to lie on top of her. He was slightlyoversized for the breed, though judges hadn't ever held it against him.But now that he had earned his points and his title of "Champion," shehad decided to forego the showing for awhile, realizing that involvingherself with the dog had just been another way of whiling away thehours, passing the time between working and sleeping. Or maybe, she toldherself then, just living and dying.Self-defeat, self-pity, were the two emotions she feared most of all,even more than opening up to others, laying herself vulnerable and bare,naked inside and out. She gave her affections to her animals, to Bix inparticular. And when his tongue slid down from her lips to move back andforth along her chin and the edge of her neck, the pleasure it affordedher could not be easily dismissed.She let go of him then and raised her hands above her head, yawning,tossing her bouncy honey-blonde tresses this way and that. The mirrorright across from her reflected her every move and she could see herface coming back at her, a face that was still not alive to the start ofanother day.The covers slid down around her waist as she propped the pillows upbehind her back and reached over to the night table to get a cigarette.Pam never wore pajamas or a nightgown to bed, preferring to sleep in thenude, just the sheets and bedding touching her naked flesh.And today was no exception. The covers were crumpled up around her waistand just as she struck a match for her cigarette, she gave a start andlooked down, amazed by what Bix had taken upon himself to perform.He was still lying down on top of the blankets. But now, he had turnedhis attentions away from her face, his tongue sliding hotly rightbetween her naked and rounded breasts. She lit the cigarette then,inhaled deeply and pressed her head back against the foam rubberpillows.She could see what was happening reflected in the mirror and the sightwas oddly intriguing as much as it was just plain amusing. Bix seemeddetermined to lick every inch of her body, as if he was grooming her forthe show ring the way she had so diligently groomed him.And Pam had no desire in the world to put a stop to the dog's oralattentions. The slurp of his tongue could be heard and she trembled ashe slid his cold wet nose over until it rubbed against one of hersleeping nipples.Idly, she reached down with one hand and ran the tips of her fingersover one nipple and then the other. "See the little nose, Bixie," shegiggled, amusing herself as she caught one flaccid nipple between herthumb and forefinger, shoving it forward right in the dog's face.Bix lashed out with his tongue slurping over the nugget of tit-flesh shepushed in his face. Pam sighed languidly and pushed the covers back,letting the cool air which circulated through the opened bedroom windowscaress her tawny thighs, the smooth and slightly rounded hillock of herbelly.She watched Bix as he continued to lick this way and that. And when shefinally let go of her nipple, she was not even surprised to see how itspreviously flaccid state had undergone a marked change. Now, both of hernipples seemed perky, taut, standing up stiffly and capping her fullrounded breasts.And as the Scottie kept licking them, they seemed to grow even moreturgid, hard fleshy points like bright pink berries. Another shivercoursed through her body and she gently eased the dog down. She spreadher thighs apart to make room for him between her legs."You're a good boy, Bix, a real gentleman," she whispered with a pleasedand affectionate smile, never doubting the dog's loyalty or devotion toher, a sense of always being where no man in the last five years hadever convinced her of truly feeling.But she missed men and even more with each passing day. She was acutelyaware of her lacks, her needs and it came as no surprise to her when herhands seemed to move on their own accord. Almost involuntarily, as ifthey had a mind of their own, they slid down until her fingers werepressing against the top of Bix's black-haired head."Come on, Bixie. You know how to do it," she said in a whisper that wasclearly authoritarian, the sound of her voice the same tone as when shehad first begun to train the Scottie.Bixie didn't bark or attempt to pull away, despite the uncomfortable andinsistent pressure of Pam's two hands. Instead, he crouched down andthen buried his face forward, just as she lifted her legs so that herknees were raised up and the soles of her feet were flat against the topof the mattress.When she let go of his head, she whimpered softly, savoring the wayBix's tongue was now moving in almost concentric circles, lashing aroundher tawny pubic mound. Her eyes were glued between her legs and shestared at herself, knowing every detail of her body, but still pleasedwith her appearance.The narrow triangular crop of short wiry dark-blonde pubic hair wasbeing licked again and again. Bix was drooling over her pussy and sheknew from past experience that the very smell of her cunt, even aftershe had just washed herself or taken a shower, turned the dog on to amost remarkable degree.There was no need to tempt him; to coat her pussy with whipped cream orjam. All she had to do now was lean back against the pillows and enjoyhis oral caresses, the attentive and diligent way his tongue was snakingher meaty pubic mound.She kept staring even as the first telltale flickers of delight began togrow more noticeable, welling up inside of her. The walls of her cuntwere soon fluttering spasmodically, gently undulating and fibrillatingagainst each other.A thin oily trickle of vaginal sap rolled down the length of her canal,oozing out like dripping syrup, right between the thin narrow lips ofher pussy. And when Bix tried to push his tongue between them, shedidn't hesitate to encourage him further."That's it, good boy, keep going; Bixie don't stop," she urged, herfingers sliding hotly up and down her body, her palms rotating over herstiff-standing and inflamed nipples. Finally, she reached down betweenher legs and even as Bix's tongue continued to probe the damp recessesof her vulva, her fingers grabbed hold of the twin flaps of puffy andtingling meat that bordered her gash.She splayed them back with a single fluid motion of her hands. Shesucked in her breath as well as she exerted pressure, peeling her cuntlips wide to expose the raw glistening meat of her clitoris and vulva.The pulpy button of cunt-flesh was already jutting out like the tip of ababy's little finger.Her training now paid off, for the instant she peeled back her vaginallobes, the dog took a deep sniff and worked his tongue right over theerect little nugget of meat that was her clitoris. A spastic shiver ofraw delight made her legs shudder and she gasped loudly as she felt theflicker of delight growing in strength, welling up inside of her pussy.It was always like this, this slow and deliciously torturous ascent tothe point of climax, the pinnacle of raw erotic release. "Come on, goodboy, more," she whispered, demanding that the Scottie service her.She thrust her crotch forward and her hips began to undulate withrhythmic insistence, her body writhing gently on the bed. More and morecunt juice spilled down from the shuddering walls of her pussy, only tobe gobbled down, slurped and sucked up by the dog's fast-moving tongue.And the more Bix licked and tongued her pussy, his tongue actuallypistoning in and out from between the trembling puffy lips of hervagina, the more aroused Pam Harper fast became. She could feel herclimax growing in strength and she began to buck and heave, jerking hercrotch back and forth against the terrier's lowered face.Her strenuous shivering motions seemed to spur the dog on and Bix's hardraspy tongue almost nipped at her cunt as she felt the way the animalwas sucking down the thick rivulets of oily musky sap which sluiced downalong the walls of her pussy.Her cunt was swampy and overheated now, but she didn't want to come ...not right this instant, in any event. So rather than shorten herpleasures, she sought to prolong them by lifting her legs back until herknees were pressing down against her tits and the smooth white cheeks ofher boyish ass jutted out in the Scottie's direction.The gamy sour odor of her anus had, so she had discovered when Bix wasjust a puppy, always aroused the dog's oral attentions. This Sundaymorning was certainly no exception, for no sooner had she thrust herbottom out in his direction when Bix dug deeper, shoving his snout andthen his swift-moving little tongue, right between the warm supplecheeks of her delectable bottom.A low-pitched sigh of ecstasy escaped Pam's lips the instant she feltBix's tongue licking and dabbing at the pink puckered folds of her anus.The hairless rosy aperture began to clench and unclench like a toothlessmouth as she worked her sphincter muscles as if to egg the dog on togreater and greater feats of oral--and now, analingual--excess.He never fails me, she thought to herself as the dog's tongue palpitatedthe rim of her anus. She reached down then and pulled her buns as farapart as she could, stretching the narrow slick opening of herfundament.Bix's tongue actually worked its way right inside to the inner edge ofher rectum. And as soon as this was accomplished, Pam let go of herbuttocks and rammed her stiffened index finger right down between thetwin puffy lips of her cooze."Shit, do it! More, eat me, lick me!" she cried out, shuddering moreviolently as her passions began to erupt with demonic force andintensity.There was no stopping her, or Bix for that matter, after that.Her index finger surged in and out as she pistoned it down into herpussy, farther than the length of the terrier's tongue could allow. Thewet slippery walls of her cunt surged together to embrace her digit anda second finger soon followed the searing path of the first, the two ofthem moving in unison, held stiffly and tightly together.She scissored them open and shut around the stalk of her steamy cut andthe friction thus produced made her body thrash more vigorously on thebed. Any second and she knew it would happen, her orgasm descending uponher like a bolt of lightning.But she tried to hold it back for as long as possible, the floodgates ofecstasy about to break down and the rush of pleasure stream like boilingwater through her excited body. And all this time, Bix was still lickingand reaming her asshole, rimming her out and never growing tired of thetask she had rather effortlessly taught him when he was just a pup.Her two fingers worked like a cock, plunging more determinedly in andout of her pussy, scraping up against her clit in their maddened rushdown into her shuddering vagina. She closed her eyes then and it wasjust the same as always, the identical fantasy taking wing in her mind,filling her thoughts with its pleasurable and highly arousing images.Her fingers kept moving, swifter than ever as she consciously dreamedthe fantasy that always consumed her when she was moments away from herclimax. In it, she was right where she was now, lying in bed, with orwithout Bix. Her blonde hair was spread out over the white pillowsliplike a golden halo and soft rays of early morning light danced andglinted along the pale blue bedroom walls.But she was not asleep, for in her fantasy her eyes were half-open,capable of seeing everything that was about to take place. It startedwhen a shadow moved behind the drawn lace curtains, a silhouette sheinstinctively knew belonged to a man. And then a leg, a leg with ascuffed cowboy boot and a covering of skintight faded denim, slid overthe window sill, followed by another foot and then a body which pushedthe window wider so that the man could gain access into her bedroom.And there she was, lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, but seeingeverything that was taking place. It was the man of her dreams,literally as well as figuratively, who now eased himself into her silentbedroom, invading her home and her privacy.But in the fantasy, and now in real life, a smile could be seen etchedacross her thin pursed lips as she caught sight of the silent figurestaring down at her while she lay in bed. Languidly, she turned overonto her back, flicking the covers down as if she was still asleep.And the man's eyes opened even wider, dark brown eyes that seemedcapable of drilling into her flesh like laser beams. They gazed in aweand delight at the bristly bush of fur which adorned her tender virginalpubic mound, highlighting the narrow gash of her cunt furrow, accentingthe drooping lips of her twat now curling in against each other, furryand warm and slightly damp with the juices which had oozed down hertrench during the night.She could see his excitement branded like a tattoo across his face, theway his nostrils dilated as he sucked in his breath, the way his thicklysensual lips opened slightly as if they were linked directly to his wideand staring eyes.And then, she opened her eyes wider and gave a sudden start of fear,fear that was dealt with in a flash as the stranger threw himself downon top of the bed. The bedcovers were pulled back like flimsy tissuepaper and he took hold of her supple thighs and then rammed his flushedand eager face right down between her spread-eagled legs.But in the dream she did not scream or fight back, except to give asudden shudder of defiance, defiance which vanished the instant thestranger's lowered head nuzzled against her box and his tongue lashedout across her warm and inviting pussy.Yes, do it, lick me, love me, she thought to herself, her fingers stillmoving in and out of her cunt as her passions got ready to erupt likemolten lava, her body a volcano about to explode with fiery vengeance.It was so clear, so lifelike that when she opened her eyes she couldstill see the man lying down, stretched out on the bed, his jean-cladlegs hanging over the foot of the bed and his tongue lapping franticallyacross her juicy pubic mound.She closed her eyes tightly then, as if to reinforce the potency of hererotic dream, her lusty fantasy. Yes, it was better this way, Pamdecided to herself, still moaning as she felt her climax about tooverwhelm her.The man no longer frightened her, his startling entrance through herbedroom window, the way his lips and tongue were plundering and rapingher cunt, all arousing her in a way no man in her real life had eversucceeded in doing before.The stranger's hard muscled body turned her on as well and his thickcurly brown hair was soft and baby-fine when she reached down and ranher fingers through it, gently and lightly caressing the top of hishead.She had seen too his lean and burly physique and the potent roundedbulge tenting up the front of his skintight jeans. All these visualstimuli served to inflame her passions and then, as she imagined how histongue would feel as it pistoned in and out of her cunt, how the edgesof his front teeth would nip and chew up and down the length of herstubby hot clit, she suddenly threw her legs down over Bix's head andscreamed out, knowing that the moment of pleasure was finally at hand.She let her passions take control and as she maneuvered a third fingerinto place, she was gasping and shaking on the bed, her limbs shiveringinvoluntarily and her orgasm erupting with all the fire and delight noman had ever gotten her to feel."More, lick me, love me, love me!" she cried out as if the burly youngman in her dream was actually there, standing by the foot of her bedwith a lewd and lascivious grin etched across his lips.But when she stared wildly around, even as hot rivulets of fresh cuntjuice streamed down the burning walls of her stimulated twat, she couldsee that she was alone with Bix, that no one else had entered her room,either from the window which led out onto the fire escape, or throughthe locked front door of her three-room apartment.And a look of anger mingled with the rage of her erotic release as Pamkept writhing back and forth. Bix continued to lash his tongue aroundher anus, licking and nipping at her bottom-hole while her three fingersplunged and darted deeper and deeper into her burning snatch.She was milking herself of every last drop of cunt juice, every lastburning charge of sexual pleasure. Her orgasm was like a spring suddenlyuncoiling inside of her and by the time she had drained herself dry andBix had finally pulled his tongue back to sit up and stare at herflushed and reddened face, Pam was too exhausted to say or do anotherthing.She just lay there on her bed, the rosy-red glow which had suffused herskin now fading as the blush of fiery pleasure began to expire likesmoldering glowing coals in a dying fire. "Where are you, you prick!Where the f*** are you hiding?" she screamed out, her face contortedwith anger that grew more intense and vituperative as she stared wildlyaround the room.Had her life been a fairy tale, she would have awakened from herreveries to discover that they had come true. But today, as in the past,fantasy had not been transformed into the stuff of life. A cool breezefanned the lace curtains and through the opened window, which led outonto the fire escape, she could hear the murmur of voices, of childrenplaying out on the street, of a neighbor arguing with her husband.But no one, no burly blue-jeaned cowboy-booted young man, was croucheddown on the fire escape, about to lift the window wide and slide onefoot and then the other into her room, entering her apartment and thus,entering her life.No tears, not today, Pam said to herself. She patted Bix and got up outof bed, knowing it was time to face the dull gray languor of reality ...her reality, her boring and dispassionate life.Chapter 2Living as she did in what had formerly been a rent-controlled apartment,quite a plum as far as the vast majority of Manhattanites wereconcerned, Pam had the added luxury of space, space which included akitchen that not only had a window, but that was also big enough toeasily hold a round oak dining table and four cane-backed chairs.Nearly all of her friends bemoaned their fate, the exorbitant rentalsthey paid in modern luxury buildings. And almost every one of them wereforced to eat in dining alcoves and living rooms, substitutingventilator grates for kitchen windows.The late morning sun streamed brilliantly into the kitchen and thehanging plants, which decorated the window, were lush and full. There'sabsolutely no reason to be depressed, Pam told herself as she sipped herthird cup of coffee and idly flicked the pages of the Sunday Times shehad picked up at a newsstand the night before.Bix lay stretched out on the yellow tile floor, sunning himself afterhaving consumed his light morning snack. She looked down at his furryblack body and smiled to herself, pleased with his loyalty and doublypleased with the way he never failed to excite her, knowing almostinstinctively what to do to arouse her passions.It wasn't so much her training as it was the dog's temperament andseemingly natural inclination to lick and tongue her body, her cunt andher asshole in particular. But that, she knew, was not all that she hadtaught him, nor was it the only trick Bix knew how to perform for hismistress.But this morning she didn't want to think of that, having caught sightof the terrier's bony penis when Bix had sat up on the bed, momentsafter she had felt the last searing convulsions which marked her orgasm.She wondered if he was capable of disappointment, then dismissed thenotion as anthropomorphic, not wanting to give a dog human feelings, toendow an animal--even one as obviously bright and clever as Bix--withemotions best left for people to experience and deal with.But in her eyes, at least, he hadn't looked all that happy, sitting upon the bed so that she had been able to see the pencil-thin andtriangulated tip of his penis sticking out from its black hairy sheath.The glistening flesh of his dog-cock was wet with canine genitalsecretions, a thin slippery fluid that she had tasted on numerousoccasions in the past, carnal episodes of bestiality, she had toldabsolutely no one about.Shame was one emotion she had learned to cope with quite early on in herlife, for before Bix there had been her first dog, a honey coloredcocker spaniel who made up for his unremarkable behavior andintelligence in other and far more intriguing ways.She remembered that first incident with the spaniel, when she had justturned fifteen. It stood before her mind's eye as if it was happening,right there in the kitchen. But then she blinked and the imagedisappeared.No, she decided, I've done enough fantasizing for one day. It's time toget out and shake off my depression before I really end up in the loonybin. She did not think she was headed for a breakdown, but as she got upto wash the breakfast dishes she sensed that unless things changed, thepattern of her life that is, no good would come of her burgeoninganxieties and dissatisfaction with the tenor of her existence."Want to romp in the park today, Bixie?" she asked her dog when the lastof the breakfast dishes had been washed and set in the drainer to dry.Bix yawned and stretched his legs, his carrot-shaped black tail risingup jauntily, wagging this way and that as he trotted obediently behindher, back into the bedroom where she picked out the clothes she wouldwear that afternoon.Less than an hour later found her standing at the top of what NewYorkers had dubbed "Dog Hill," a denuded though still fairly grassyrounded hill which overlooked Fifth Avenue and the 79th Street entranceto Central Park.Sunday, she knew, was the worst day of all, when the park was crowdedwith families and Dog Hill was a sea of barking running canine bodies.The good weather, the first taste of summer in what had been anunusually rainy spring, had brought the people out in droves and as shestood and looked around her, surveying the view while she kept adiligent eye on Bix, she suddenly stiffened and refused to believe hereyes.I'm dreaming, she thought to herself, ignoring Bix so that she was ableto train both eyes on the tall athletically built figure who stood somedistance away from her, halfway down the rise of the gently slopinghill.She could see his profile, the straight aquiline line of his nose, thethick and in her eyes sensual lips, now set in a slight and almost dazedbemused little grin. Dark piercing eyes stared out, open and devoid ofdeceit, from under a pair of thick bushy eyebrows.Even the same hair, Pam thought to herself, for the young man who nowwas causing her to stare almost blatantly and rudely, had a thick mop ofshaggy and curly dark-brown hair, hair which almost seemed to be theidentical shade of brown as his eyes.She shook her head and held herself more stiffly, aware of the way shehad been trembling. Her fingers clutched Bix's leash and the yapping andscurrying all around her did not serve to break her mood of silent andwatchful amazement.It's him, the same guy, the one who comes in the window, she thought,still not sure if she was somehow hallucinating, seeing a mirage,imagining the young man as he stood below her on the hill, his own eyestrained on a powerfully built liver-colored Doberman pinscher.As in the dream, the stranger wore faded and skintight blue jeans, evenscuffed square-toed cowboy boots as well. A work shirt as equally fadedand bleached as his dungarees covered his muscular torso and Pamelasmiled nervously, wondering if she was finally going off the deep end.But when she blinked rapidly, the image before her didn't waver or fadeaway in the least. If anything, she could see the young man even moreclearly. All the details of his face and body, details she had memorizedas if the dream had come to her full-blown, not a product of her ownsubconscious yearnings, matched one against the other.She shivered again, spooked out by the apparition that had magicallycome to life. She had waited so long to meet a man like the one whoraped her, alone in her bedroom, that now she didn't know if she shouldjust turn around and run off in the opposite direction.But before she could even recover from her surprise, or regain herself-composure, their eyes met and for the life of her she neitherwanted to nor could she even pull away from the young man's wide andunswerving stare.He turned his head to the side and looked up at her and if there wassuch a thing as love at first sight, Pam knew that she was the victim ofit, of Cupid's dart. Her knees felt weak and bravely, feeling silly andas adolescent as a blushing schoolgirl, she curled her lips up into asmile.It was not ignored.The fellow grinned broadly, just as she saw Bix race into view, runningcircles around the liver colored Doberman. The pinscher was a male, butsurprisingly enough he and Bix seemed to get along fine, enjoying eachother's company, enjoying too the canine games the Scottie so delightedin.Bix yapped merrily and darted right underneath the Doberman's body. Thesmooth-coated dog barked loudly and sprang off down the hill, Bix'sshort stubby legs flying out behind him as he hurried after in hotpursuit."Holmes!" the young man called out as the two dogs raced down the hill,so involved in their own games and animal pleasures that, at least forthe time being, they were oblivious to their masters."Bix, get over here!" Pam cried out, her feet moving in front of her.Almost mechanically she strode down the hill, one foot placed before theother as if she was just learning how to walk. She was headed righttowards the young man and a smile still played across her lips."Holmes, get your ass over here ... now!" the guy yelled out.The Doberman stopped short, lifted his fox-like snout and then began torace back up the hill. Bix was right behind him, a black streak againstthe pinscher's short liver-tinted body. By the time the two dogs hadarrived at the young man's feet, Pam was standing right before him,still clutching Bix's leather lead."That's a good boy, Holmes. Now just quiet down and sit still for aminute," the fellow said good-naturedly.Pamela knew she was in love and the very notion made her shudder onceagain. She wiped her forehead with the tips of her fingers, able to feelhow she had suddenly begun to sweat profusely. "You too, Bix," she said,her voice cracking and her throat gone dry and parched."Bix? Why Bix?" asked the young man, turning to stare at her the way hehad done earlier. And, for a second time, their eyes met, the stare heldrigid and unmoving."Why?" she heard herself replying to his question. "He's just ... just alittle Bix, that's all. Silly. I can't remember why I decided to namehim that. It just came to me when I saw him, that's all.""You're right," the young man agreed with another disarmingly open andgood-natured grin. "He does look like a Bix.""And Holmes?" asked Pam. "Where's his double-brimmed cap and hisdrooping pipe?""Oh," the young man laughed, "I only let him wear those things in theprivacy of my apartment. Wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong idea.Actually, it was the look in his eyes that made the decision for me.Seemed so piercing, so inquisitive, even when he was just a pup."Pam glanced over at the Doberman. He was sitting at his master's feet,his great wet tongue hanging out of his mouth. Her eyes slid down,caught sight of the long thinly furred sheath that concealed the dog'scock and then jerked back to the young man's smiling face."Want to go for a cup of coffee?" he suddenly blurted out, almost as ifhe was now as nervous as she was."What?" she said, startled by the swiftness of the stranger'sinvitation. "I ... I don't even know your name.""And if you did ... would it make any difference?" he said. "But to setyour mind at ease, I'm listed in the Manhattan directory, under W forWhitlock. Justin Whitlock.""Pam Harper," she replied, finding herself extending her hand as theygrinned back at each other and shook hands like two businessmen meetingeach other for the first time before sitting down to lunch."Good, then it's settled," he said, whereupon he attached the chainleash he held to Holmes' collar.Pam clicked Bix's lead into place and the two of them, led by their twostraining panting dogs, moved down the hill towards the 79th Street exitfrom the park. Pam felt at a complete loss for words, nodding her headnumbly as Justin spoke to her.She was growing acutely aware of the way he kept glancing at her fromthe corner of his eye. It was a look she had seen before, as recently asthe previous evening in fact, when Dick Truman had taken her out fordinner.But whereas Truman's leering wolfish grin had turned her off, hadfrightened her in point of fact, she accepted Justin's obvious interestin her with something that resembled downright pleasure and considerabledelight.She had never met a man this way, a complete and total stranger. For allshe knew he could be a homicidal maniac, a psychotic, sexuallymaladjusted. But even if all that was true, nothing was going to stopher from finally taking a chance with her life and doing the one thingwhich now came to her as naturally and easily as the very act ofbreathing, of inhaling and exhaling as she walked alongside of him.When they reached Fifth Avenue they turned left, heading uptown. Theywalked past the crowds surging in and out of the Metropolitan Museum,past some of the embassy buildings that were located along Fifth Avenue,in view of the park.She didn't ask him where they were going, if he intended to stop at acoffee shop or head straight back to his apartment. Secretly, she hopedhe would choose the latter and when he caught hold of her elbow andguided her across Fifth Avenue and down Eighty-eighth Street, she smiledto herself and didn't utter a single word of protest."Five flight walkup," he announced when they reached the unrenovatedbrownstone where he rented an apartment. "Sorry about that, but I refuseto be subsidized by dear old dad.""I don't care. I like to walk," she replied, shy again as she followedhim up the granite steps which led into the pocket-sized vestibule andlobby of the building.Justin dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring ofkeys, selecting the correct one to unlock the front door. Then, movingdown the dimly illuminated and narrow hallway, he led Pam upstairs tohis apartment.She followed right behind him; able to hear the way her heart wasbeating like a steam-hammer in her breast, able to feel the nervouspulsing throb of blood in her temples. But even more than that, she wasbecoming acutely aware of another sensation, one that she hadexperienced in the past, but rarely if ever as a result of being in thecompany and presence of a man.Between her legs she could feel how juice was seeping down, tricklingalong the walls of her cunt and oozing over her hairy pubic mound. Shewas wearing a skirt and she was almost startled at the way her crotchhad gotten suddenly wet and swampy, juice threatening to actually dripdown along the insides of her thighs.The walls of her cunt could be felt fluttering again and again and shecould hardly believe her body was responding like this, for she had notfelt this kind of sexual reaction to anyone in so long that she hadalmost forgotten what it could be like.But now, she knew exactly what it was like, for she was unable to stopshaking, unable to stop staring up at Justin's muscular back, his tightboyish ass outlined beneath the skintight covering of his jeans, or thelong thickly muscles back of his calves and thighs.His body seemed to radiate the same kind of intense animalism as Holmes'wiry and powerful build, dog and master appearing in her eyes to be evenmore suited to each other than she had first thought. This is insane,she told herself. What am I doing here, following this guy upstairs tohis apartment, when I don't even know who he is, or anything about him?Nevertheless, she made no move to turn, nor did she even voice herdoubts. Her disbelief, the fact that the longer she was in his companythe more he came to even more closely resemble the man she had almostfantasized about, all got the best of her, squelching any thoughts tothe contrary.She paused at the top of the fifth floor landing to catch her breath.She had taken Bix off the leash and now he was wagging his tail,delighted with his outing and his new friend. Holmes stood attentivelybehind Justin as he unlocked the door to his apartment, turning aroundto usher Pam inside.One glance was all she needed to put her fears to rest. The studioapartment was warm and inviting, with soft browns and tans thepredominant color scheme. "I'll fix a pot of coffee ... I can't standinstant," he told her. "Just make yourself comfortable, put some musicyou like on the stereo."Dumbly, she nodded her head and moved into the large airy room. She puther shoulder bag down and moved to the stereo, flicking through thestack of record albums until she had found something to her liking. Itwas Franck's "Symphony in d," one of her favorites. She slid the recordout of the album sleeve and put it down on top of the turntable, doublypleased that he had it in his collection, that already their similartastes were showing through, joining them even more closely to eachother.Bix and Holmes seemed exhausted and they lay near the couch, theirtongues lolling out of their mouths and their eyes half-closed, dreamywith the need for sleep. That too was fine with her. She didn't wantthem to turn into a hassle, a nuisance.The soft strains of the symphony came back to her as she sat down on thecouch, a straight-backed tweed-covered sofa whose down pillows gave wayunder her weight. She sank down and sighed to herself, still finding itall too difficult to deal with.I should be lying in a bed, she thought. And Justin should come inthrough the open window and take me ... just like that, without a singleword.Pam closed her eyes, an unspoken sentence on her lips. One part of herwas more afraid than she had ever been before in her life, afraid ofcaring too much, of giving everything she had and getting nothing backin return, of laying her feelings before Justin's feet, not knowing ifhe would kick them aside or bend down to hold them lovingly and caringlyin his cradling arms.But the other side of her thoughts, the side which had first compelledher to hold his stare, to move down the hill with the full intention ofmeeting Justin, wanted her to cry out to him, to tell him to take her,to rape her in any way he desired, right then and there.She could hear his booted feet moving back into the room. But Pam kepther eyes closed, her breath coming in short shallow gasps, her titsrising and falling like the lilting strains of music Franck had writtenfor moments just such as these.Let him see me like this, she thought. Let him know how open I am, howvulnerable, naked ...She pictured how he was now standing at the threshold to the room, forthe sound of his heavy footfalls had stopped abruptly. She imagined whathe might be thinking and she smiled to herself just as the footstepsresumed, coming right in her direction. Still, she made no move to openher eyes or acknowledge the fact that he was walking right towards heras she leaned back against the down-filled sofa.And then it happened, though not like in the dream.She felt his legs pressing down against her knees and then his lipsmoving back and forth against her mouth. She took a deep breath then andopened her eyes. He was leaning forward, bracing himself with his handsclutching at the back of the couch.She looked into his eyes and then smiled as he grinned back at her,lightly licking her lips with the tip of his outstretched tongue. Herhands moved up as if invisible balloons were lifting them. And then sheclutched at his arms and responded with all the pent-up passion andstifled desire she had lived with these past five years.Justin could not have been more pleased.He rammed his tongue right between her parted lips, moaning softly asher fingers slid up and down along his arms. Each passing second madePam more impatient. She no longer cared what he might think of herbehavior, of the way she was demanding him to take her, to do whateverhe desired.Nothing mattered but how she felt and she rubbed her thighs together,acutely and agonizingly aware of the way her cunt had begun to burn anditch with feverish impatience and desire. Justin's tongue slid in andout of her mouth, licking her lips and palate, her gums and teeth.Their lips were glued hotly against each other and her fingers slidhigher, up along his arms. His muscles bulged tautly inside of his fadedblue work shirt and the power and strength she had imagined him topossess was now becoming more and more obvious, exhibiting itself in thehard bulge of his steely muscles.Justin slid his tongue out of her mouth and then sucked on her chin,gently sliding his tongue down along her neck, even as he began to easehis body into a crouch. He crouched between her legs, flicking histongue against her smooth alabaster neck, his knees digging into thecarpeting and his hands now moving from the back of the couch to restalong Pam's shoulders.She felt dazed, dazzled by the swiftness of their meeting, by the factthat she knew, long before it was going to take place, that they weredestined to go to bed together, destined to explore every inch of eachother's naked bodies.And that pleased her to no end. She pushed her crotch forward,whimpering more excitedly as he sucked and licked her neck, gentlyunbuttoning the front of her thin linen blouse. Yes, do it, anything,she kept telling herself as Justin grew more animated, more impatient,finally ripping the tails of her blouse out from around the waistband ofher skirt.She thrust her tits forward, glad that she hadn't bothered to wear a brafor her afternoon jaunt to the park. Because now, an instant later, shefelt his lips sucking down over one of her nipples, the edges of hisfront teeth nipping and grazing lightly and delightfully along theentire length of her turgid and stiff-standing berries."Yes, oh do that, yes, anything," she whispered, her body twisting fromside to side as he used his lips with expertise, sucking on one tautnipple and then the other. He licked and tongued them until they felt onfire and then he began to stuff one of her tits right between his gapinglips.Pam kept looking down, staring at his lowered head as his hands pushedher jugs closer together and his lips and tongue sucked and slurped withgrowing passion and maddened delight. He was doing everything she hadwanted him to do, and performing in a manner which left absolutelynothing to be desired.Glancing over his shoulder, she could see the two dogs, the Scottie andthe Doberman, watching what was taking place between their owners. Theirseeming look of interest amused her and Pam giggled, even as the hotflickers of pleasure began to grow more and more potent.He wasn't saying a word, but his caresses spoke far louder than anythingshe knew he might say. His fingers were kneading and toying with herjugs and she had never felt her nipples so inflamed before, so on fire,tingling as he flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth against oneand then the other, stimulating her with each successive swipe of hisraspy-edged prober.She was all eyes, having gone without this kind of pleasure for far toolong. The backs of his hands were covered with short black hair and sheimagined that he was a bear, attacking her, ravishing her body withbestial fervor and animalistic delight.Like paws, she thought as she watched his fingers moving, tweaking herlove-buds and then trailing ticklishly down along the gentle incline ofher body. He reached for the zipper to her skirt and still she made nomove to stop him, nor would she ever."You know me, don't you?" he asked her then, even as he found the sidezipper to her skirt and yanked it down with a flick of his wrist."I ... I've known you for ... for more than five years," she whispered,her body shivering involuntarily, a nervous twitch which made her voicetremble ever so slightly. "In ... from a dream. You've been coming to mein a dream, the same dream, over and over again, week after week.""If I told you the same thing, I'd only be lying. But it doesn't reallymatter or change anything, because I'm here now, and that's all thatcounts," he replied, his voice soft and soothing to her ears."You've been sleepwalking for five years, that's all," she said with agrin. "You come to my window at dawn, pull it open and slide first oneleg and then the other inside. And then, then you ..."Then I what?""You ... you do it," she stammered. "You rape me, Justin. You f*** me;you do everything to me, everything. And I love it, I love it, all ofit, everything."He grinned almost devilishly at her emotional outburst and withoutsaying another word, pulled impatiently at the hem of her skirt. Pamlifted her ass off of the sofa so that he would be able to pull herskirt completely off. She was glad she had said what she had, as if ithad been a stone around her neck, weighing her down. He hadn't laughednor had he been anything but highly pleased and flattered.And now she was ready to make good her words, for even then her skirtcame down and she kicked it off of her ankles, pulling her blouse offwith the same kind of wild sexual impatience her voice had reflectedmoments before.Justin's dark brooding eyes opened to their farthest limits. He suckedin his breath as she sat there before him, her naked creamy-white jugsrising and falling; each rounded melon capped by an exquisite littlefinger of taut and erect flesh.She could see his excitement mirrored on his face, the way he wasliterally devouring her with his eyes, gobbling her down like asucculent sweetmeat, a choice morsel fit for an epicurean feast. Hiseyes slid down over her upthrust and firm young breasts, farther stillto the soft rounded hill of her belly.And then he did exactly what he did in her dream. He threw himselfforward with a loud bull-like roar, a bellow of wild sexual impatienceand maddened physical hunger. His tongue probed the narrow recess of hernavel and then licked down to the waistband of her slim little bikinibriefs.Pam moaned wildly and thrust her crotch forward. Justin was using histongue with an instinctive skill that even Bix had never demonstratedbefore. He slid its very tip right underneath the ring of elastic andthen moved it back and forth as if he were loosening her panties,pulling them off of her merely by the use of his lips and tongue.He came quite close to that, actually, for a moment later, as she keptpushing her hips up and down towards his flushed and reddened face, hegrabbed hold of the waistband of her briefs, catching the elasticbetween the edges of his front teeth.She cried out with excitement as he pulled down, using his teeth ratherthan his fingers so that she could feel his wet slippery lips grazingagainst her naked body. Once again she raised herself up as he tuggedher panties down, succeeding in pulling them past her waist and lushrounded hips, farther still until his eyes could see the first strayringlets of mossy pubic hair which grew thickly and luxuriously acrossher meaty box."Oh please, please, yes, do it, hurry," she begged, so impatient thatshe couldn't stop herself from skinning her undies down. She pushed thempast her thighs with both hands and as they fell to her ankles he wasalready moving forward, even before she had managed to kick them off ofher legs.A scream of excitement flew out of her throat the instant he plungedrecklessly forward, his thick sensual lips glued hotly against herpussy. His warm breath fanned her puffy cunt lips and she was whimperingand straining, pushing her crotch up against his mouth."More, yes, do it, anything," she blurted out once again, so on firethat she couldn't pull her thoughts together. The room reeled around heras if she was riding a horse on a carousel, a merry-go-round of spinningwhirling erotic intensity.Never before, not even when she had known what it was to be in love,five years earlier, had Pam Harper ever been so aroused, so sexuallystimulated, so maddened by the artful caresses and erotic skills of aman.It was all new to her and she spread her thighs demandingly wide,watching the way his tongue slid around her hairy cunt, licking everytendril of blonde pubic fur, sucking on the twin slippery lobes of fleshwhose inner secrets he now sought out. Justin rammed his bristlinginvading tongue right down into her crimson gash and the scarlet wetwound of her cunt furrow dilated visibly, even before she grabbed holdof the top of his head and pushed his mouth down even more firmlyagainst her pussy."Please, yes, eat me, eat me," she whimpered, so out of control by nowthat she couldn't believe this was all happening to her, finally and atlong last.But it was no dream and she didn't have to pinch herself or scream outto awaken from her reveries. She had gone home with a young man whom sheknew nothing about, a young man named Justin Whitlock. But if she didnot know who he really was, or what he did with his life, or what hisgoals and aspirations might be, she still knew him from all thosefancied moments when he had snuck into her bedroom to take her in thestillness of early morning.And now, the last thing she wanted him to do was stop his frenzied oralcaresses to sit back and calmly recite the story of his life. Needlessto say, that was not what Justin intended to do. Not now, in any event.Chapter 3This was no dream, no reverie, no imagined meeting.It had happened and now Justin Whitlock was just as inflamed as PamHarper. He stroked the tops of her smooth white thighs, glad that shehadn't been wearing stockings or panty hose, glad that he could caressand massage her tender and supple flesh.And even as he caressed her, his tongue was digging deeper into hercunt, lapping up the hot spicy rivulets of sap, which were streamingdown the fluttering walls of her swampy twat. He had seen the liquidstain of cunt juice that had covered the front of her panties and heknew how aroused she had become.The intensity of her response, the way she was holding his head down andwrithing back and forth so that his tongue hit against one smoothslippery cunt wall and then the other, pleased him to no end. He wasdetermined to arouse her until she would be insane, unable to controlherself.And so now he strummed her body as if he was a musician gettingharmonies and chords from an instrument. His fingers tickled the insidesof her thighs, finally sliding higher until he was able to take hold ofthe edges of her thin girlish cunt lips.These were no scarlet rooster combs of flabby drooping flesh, but tautelastic lapels that he now eased back, stretching them wide as butterflywings. Pam thrust her crotch up again and again and when she let go ofhis head, Justin eased his tongue back. He lifted his face and stareddown at her meaty box.Between a narrow and gristly set of cunt lips he could see the swollenmeaty button of her clit and it was to this delectable tidbit that henow centered his attentions. He rammed his face down with risingimpatience, nipping at her clit so that she could not stop moaning andcrying out with pleasure.Her cunt gave off a strong heady odor, at once musky and pungent. Andher juices tasted salty and spicy against his lips and tongue. Delightedwith the way she was responding, he kept at it, nipping and frictioninghis teeth and tongue against the tender shaft of her clitoris, thenramming his tongue as far inside of her tight girlish split as he could.Her vaginal muscles jerked against his invading tongue, nipping at itwith such conclusive force that he knew she was going to prove to beeven more wild and arousing when they were in bed together. And that,needless to say, was something he didn't doubt would happen whenever hewas ready to make the move.But what he knew she still didn't understand were the kind of things hewanted done to her, the lurid sexual acts he had long imagined, neverhaving been able to see them brought to life, consummated before hiswide and staring eyes. Something told him that Pam would do anything hewanted, that the heated excesses of her sexual reaction were a productnot only of his erotic skill, but also because she had fallen for him,head over heels.That she seemed to be in love, or at least infatuated, certainly was nohindrance. And though he was yet to experience the same kind ofbreathless emotional involvement, his physical appetites were just asoverheated and insatiable as hers.Behind the front of his faded blue jeans he could feel how his cock wasjerking angrily. It thrust out like a bar of steel against his fly,imprisoned, stifled inside of his dungarees. He wore no underwear and,as a result, he was acutely aware of how clammy and sweaty his groin hadbecome, pre-come dribbling out of the bulbous and blood-engorged head ofhis tool to seep over his pubes and soak into the denim material of hisjeans.But Justin was a young man who knew how to exercise proper control; atleast when sex was involved. He wasn't worried about coming in hispants, though not because he feared he wouldn't be able to climax asecond time, but simply because he had trained himself to hold backuntil the last possible moment.As a result, women had always found his sexual pyrotechnics unbeatable.His ability to sustain an erection without any artificial devices, hisskill at holding his orgasm back until he had milked a woman of severalclimaxes, one right after the other, had all stood him in good steadwith the women who had passed in and out of his life.And Pam, he knew was not going to be the exception to the rule. He couldfeel how she was shuddering, how her vaginal muscles had already goneout of control, signaling her imminent release. But he did not want tomilk her of an orgasm, not yet at any rate.No, there would be time enough for that, when the moment was right. Sohe finally eased his probing licking tongue from out of her cooze,tickling her clitoris and then lifting his sweaty face. He let go of hercunt lips and they sprang elastically back, their hairy outer edges allwet and glistening, slippery with a mixture of saliva and cunt juice.Pam slumped back against the couch, breathless and wild-eyed. She had noidea why Justin had stopped, especially when she had been riding a kindof stoned sexual rush, floating up towards the very moment of release.But that, needless to say, was all part of his technique.He edged back to rock against his knees and the backs of his legs,taking her in with a single wide and all-encompassing stare. She wasnaked, her flesh glistening and white, dewdrops not only beading thefurry triangle that marked her tender mons veneris, but also dotting thefine down along her upper lip and right below her hairline.Her breasts rose and fell and he saw her then as the verypersonification of tenderness and vulnerability. "I ... I don't knowwhat to say," she whispered when she had recovered a modicum ofself-composure."Don't say anything ... just do," he replied in a whisper, as if hedidn't want to break the spell that had been cast between them. He gotabruptly to his feet to turn over the record, for Franck's symphony hadcome to its side one halt just moments after he had finally slid histongue out of her juicy little muff.And as he rose up before her, Pamela Harper's eyes opened even widerthan before. She was now able to see that which she had tried to glimpseear |
