Chapter 5

Phillip glanced around furtively as he stepped from the cab at Valerie Dodge's riverside address, then laughed at his needless cautiousness. Hell, there was no sense acting like some super-spy outrunning the KGB; after all, there wasn't a chance in the world of Jessica being within miles of this place. He had not seen her now for several days, something of a rarity in itself, but the odds were rather slim she'd be strolling about in this neighborhood at ten o'clock in the evening. Or in any neighborhood in New York, if she had any brains at all.

He showed the smartly-uniformed doorman his invitation, with his name neatly inked across it in flowing blue-black script, and was directed, with a courteous little bow, to the second battery of elevators, the ones marked "17-30," and told he was okayed for admittance to the twenty-fourth floor condominium the William Brantley Dodge's called home. He chuckled to himself as he checked his tie and collar in the elevator mirror-Christ, a two-bit artist like himself invited to a party at W. B. Dodge's apartment! Hobnobbing with the joint rulers of the country's biggest and most successful model and network packaging outfit, both of them millionaires a few times over. And the incredible way it all came about- hell, that was a story in itself!

It was only last week, though now it seemed months ago as Phillip recalled the events that led up to this invitation. Jessica had been in another of her moods, he remembered; and like always, she chose not to explain, just to keep it all bottled up in her lovely little self. It was the day after she was supposed to meet some agency creative director for an after-hours interview. She hadn't said much about it, just that it was less than successful, and, knowing Jessica's temper, Phillip had simply left it at that, though he was far from happy about these unusual job interviews she seemed to be constantly drawn into. Not that he would ever have suspected Jessica of any wrong- doing-Christ, she just wasn't the type for that. But those ad agency smoothies could be pretty persuasive, just the same.

Anyway, they'd argued about it for a few minutes, tossed the usual harsh words back and forth, then, like always, kissed and forgot the whole thing and headed through the evening chill for the subway ride to the W. B. Dodge Company, the source of most of network television's commercials and the "think-tank" for more award-winning television specials than anyone could count.

There wasn't any particular reason for doing it, but this days just this once, they varied their usual job-hunting procedure and Phillip accompanied his girlfriend inside for the interview, waiting as unobtrusively as possible in a lobby filled with eager young models and would-be actresses, all toting their shop-worn portfolio cases loaded with stills and press-releases and anything else they could pile together in hopes of impressing Bill or Valerie Dodge, the king and queen, without dispute, of the W. B. Dodge empire, a sprawling kingdom that covered five floors here in their mid-town location, and another couple of thousand square feet of studio space down near the Village.

Phillip had made no effort to make his presence known; on the contrary, he'd attempted most diligently to stay out of sight, even to the point of taking a seat opposite Jessica when they entered, knowing only too well how agency receptionists felt about friends accompanying the girls when the agency announced its infrequent hiring sessions, or 'cattle calls" as they were known in the trade. But anonymity was just not to be his this afternoon.

Valerie Dodge nodded ever-so-slightly when she passed through the reception area the first time. Phillip had not the faintest notion who she was, though he suspected she was indeed the empress herself when the room suddenly quieted and a couple of dozen skirts were quickly adjusted, some going up and others going down. And when the former television actress turned model-agency executive had made her exit, one of the young hopefuls nearest Phillip made the identification certain.

"That was her! Valerie Dodge! Isn't she gorgeous, just like in all her films!" the young girl had shrieked, and Phillip had agreed, indeed, Valerie Dodge was a beautiful woman, blessed with genetic good looks and enough money to sustain them with daily trips to the plushest of Manhattan's glittering salons. She was tall, he guessed about five-nine that afternoon, and her Paris-styled auburn hair accented the jet-set beauties of her elegantly beautiful face. And that body of hers was in a category by itself! Her breasts were huge and full, but deliciously proud and firm, without a trace of sag to detract from her glamorous profile. He wondered even then, from that fleeting glimpse, how this magnificent celebrity would look without those Saks originals... in fact, without anything at all, just her fabled body stretched nude across a king-sized bed. Phillip remembered now that he'd quickly crossed that silly daydream from his thoughts. If only he had known what the future held for him!

He had been reading a terribly outdated copy of Women's Wear Daily, just to have something to occupy his mind, when he suddenly realized that the displaced voice he'd heard was talking to him. "You must be Phillip Wright?" it said.

He looked up, startled, from his paper. It was Valerie Dodge, standing right by his shoulder. He'd failed to notice her reenter the reception room. "Right... but how did you know that?" he asked, manfully aware that the swarm of delicious young lovelies had hushed their nervous buzzing and was intently focused on him as he courteously rose quickly to his feet.

"It's not magic, really, love," she purred, Jessica was just mentioning you to my husband when I went in for a file." She paused and glanced him over, a quick cursory appraisal, but one obvious enough to gain the young man's attention. "Would you like to come in to my office a moment?"

Phillip hesitated... not from disinterest, but disbelief. Valerie Dodge requesting him to enter her office! "Of course! I mean... yes, certainly." He tried to conceal his surprise and excitement, leaving the roomful of whispering girls to guess his true identity, to determine among themselves if he was, yes indeed, Phillip Wright, world-famous movie producer, or Phillip Wright, noted actor, or...

"Have a seat, Phillip," offered Valerie Dodge when they'd both entered her private office suite and she had closed the heavy door behind them. Phillip waited graciously until his hostess had seated herself behind the single inch-thick glass pane that served her as a desk. He sank comfortably into a thickly padded leather armchair that seemed to envelop him in a womb of softness and aromatic cowhide.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see you?"

He nodded, "That's for sure. I usually have to try a dozen times just to see one of the paid flunkies. It comes as a bit of a shock to be personally invited into a place like this." He made a sweep of his hand, indicating the expansive layout of the older woman's office and separate sitting-room all furnished with the h and-picked choicest of the Manhattan decorators' offering, the walls adorned with stills and promotional posters from some of her earlier television and motion picture successes.

"Don't let it threaten you," she laughed, a real smile on her lips now for the first time since she'd first spoken. It was truly becoming on her, adding an even greater depth to the already-fathomless beauty and glamour this woman possessed. "It's my real home. This is where I really live," she confessed. "The apartment is just for changing clothes and entertaining. I feel much more at ease here than anywhere else."

"Uh, yes... it is really nice. And I see you have gardens outside, too," Phillip said somewhat nervously, grasping awkwardly for something meaningful to say, but not really succeeding.

"Yes, it's another little private hideaway of mine. I guess I am somewhat of a nut about privacy, but those years in front of the camera had to have some effect on me, I suppose." She stopped talking, staring straight at her handsome young visitor as if waiting for him to speak, but the growing lump in his throat blocked whatever words he might have managed. "Oh, how thoughtless of me," she suddenly gushed, "let me fix you a drink. You must be absolutely dying of thirst after sitting out there in that office so long." She jumped up from her swivel chair and hurriedly crossed the room. Phillip was suddenly reminded of a television show from his early youth, and the graceful entrances another famous star made at the opening of each show, her gowns always trailing regally as she swept into the room and onto the screens of those pioneering days of television.

"What will it be? Scotch okay?"

"Sure, that's fine," he answered. And for the moment, he couldn't for the life of him remember if he drank scotch or not.

Valerie vanished through the open doorway into the adjoining suite; from across the second room Philip heard the tinkling of glasses and the bubbling of fine liquor being poured.

"You take water, Phillip?" came the shouted voice. He replied negatively, reasoning, quite prophetically, it turned out, that he could use a stiff drink about right now. For a few moments, there was no sound at all, then the soft closing of a door, perhaps a cupboard or closet, a rustle of something he couldn't put his finger on, then the sound of softly padding steps as Valerie Dodge, adored and coveted by countless thousands of dissatisfied married men, returned to her young visitor. Only the statuesque redhead did not actually return; Phillip sensed, rather than saw, her standing in the doorway... he looked up.

"Mrs. Dodge!" he gasped, bolting to his feet and jarring the cocktail table before him so hard that it tumbled onto the carpet, dumping an empty ashtray and a few magazines onto the floor.

"Like my outfit, love?" she purred, holding her arms away from her body, a drink in each hand. She was wearing a light, baby-blue gown that could have been made of Saran-wrap, and it was more man obvious she had removed her bra and panties while out of the room fixing the drinks. Her shoes were still on, along with her white garter belt and dark stockings. His eyes instantly locked on the deep, inviting cleft between her enormous, bulging breasts. Her nipples, crinkly and brownish, poked against the sheer line of gauze-like fabric that offered no more concealment than a sheet of clear glass, little peaks of tingling flesh already aroused and hardened as he looked upon them.

Phillip glanced nervously around, checking the door instinctively.

'Oh, you needn't worry about anyone coming in. My penchant for privacy is a legend around here. Nobody would dare enter this office without calling first... and besides," she added with a twinkling grin, "it locks automatically when you shut it."

"Jesus, you're beautiful!" Phillip said, without a trace of nervousness or awkwardness now. Somehow it all seemed right... her being there nearly naked, his being alone with her. It was as if at that very instant in time, something snapped within him, some little switch somewhere deep in his brain suddenly closed. And he was suddenly feeling the beginning of a glowing power and self-confidence he'd never even hoped for before. Even at that moment, he knew what was expected of him, knew that making love to this fantastically desirable woman was going to change him and that perhaps nothing less than a real woman like this would ever satisfy him again.

Valerie lowered her eyes for a moment to the bulge in his trousers; his cock was out of position in his shorts, and that made the obvious swelling even more apparent. His erection stood out like a tree limb, so tight against the fabric of his pants that he was afraid it might just rip through and come bursting out like an animal's penis might when confronted with a female so obviously in heat and eager for excitement. She grinned at the sight of it. "You seem to like me, lover," she said softly, a glistening sparkle in her eyes. "It's pretty obvious."

"That's pretty observant of you," he laughed, even surer of himself now. "Not everyone would have noticed."

"How could I help it, darling. Now it's getting even more obvious..." She paused dramatically and stared for a full beat at the still growing bulge in his crotch. "... You're quite a big man."

"C'mon... the weather's nicer in here, stud," she said seductively.

Phillip followed her without an instant's hesitation, feeling more and more confident of his masculinity with every step toward this voluptuous woman's lair. She was well ahead of him, and when he entered the inner room, she was already sitting on the edge of her bed. And what a bed! It was round, at least seven feet across, and covered with a blaze-red silk cover with the name Valerie spelled out in huge script letters that ran from one side to the other. He glanced down at the thin hair-lined lips of her vagina clearly visible now between her slightly parted legs. He didn't blush at the sight of her womanly treasures like he might have in the past; her pleased smile was invitation enough, but she opened her legs a bit more, a teasing grin on her lips as he caught a glimpse of the faintest dewdrop of her own excitement just beginning to glisten on the soft pink furrows of her narrow slit. She handed him his drink and it seemed to go down in one swallow, warming his body along its path, adding to the growing intense heat he was already feeling for this beautiful woman far down in his loins.

He stood over her silently, reverently, like a pilgrim come to do homage to a saint, as she loosed the clasp that held the robe together just above the swelling mounds of her luscious breasts. She pulled the two halves of the flimsy garment apart, exposing the large full mounds, the ripe dark nipples staring at him wetly. She had moistened them with saliva from her tongue before he entered, adding magically to the already maddening allure of this gorgeous female.

"I can't believe how beautiful you are," he muttered innocently, "I knew movie stars were nice looking, but I never expected anything like... like this!" He stared mutely at her nakedness, still holding the empty glass in his hand. He could see the tell-tale glint of growing passion in her eyes and it was all he could do to hold back the urge to drop to his knees at her feet and bury his face and lips in the warm moist delicacy of that incredibly tantalizing furrow between her smooth supple thighs that seemed to beckon him, call to him with a siren's song all its own. But he managed to contain himself, somehow aware now that this was no "quickie," one just didn't jump on the famous Valerie Dodge and pump it to her like a common whore. She wanted a lover, not an over-eager punk kid who'd leave her hot and horny and unsatisfied. He could tell already that the agonizing wait would bring its own reward.

"You've got a lot to offer yourself," she smiled up at him, "enough to get me interested, and I'm not that excitable."

'I've never had any complaints," he said with a boyish grin.

Valerie parted her thighs a little more, flexing the sinewy lengths of her ripely formed legs like a lioness might before a kill. "I'll bet you don't, young man," she purred. And with that, she leaned back seductively onto her elbows, arching herself backward invitingly with a tempting smile that made her offering undeniable.

Phillip leaned over and kissed her, lightly at first, on the lips, pretending that this sort of chance encounter with a glamorous screen star and celebrity was just run-of-the-mill with him.

She held him off for a moment, teasingly, then reached up, curled her arms around and pulled him down onto her naked warmth. One of his legs was between her opened thighs; he shivered at the feel of her incredible supple softness as her body seemed glued against his. She moved her thigh up against his crotch as he ground his lips harshly into her, bringing his cock into painfully erect hardness. He could feel the wetness of his seminal fluid seeping from the gland on the rapidly hardening tip. It smeared against his leg inside his pants until he was certain Valerie could feel the sticky wetness through the fabric. She continued her practiced massaging with a skillful thoroughness that brought his aching lustfulness to a crescendo pitch; he was certain the head of his throbbing prick would explode at any second. It was jerking now as though he would cum at the least extra pressure; it was definite now, he could feel the pressure building deep in his balls below. He thrust his tongue deep in her mouth as she sucked gently tenderly, on it, nibbling with tiny sharp nips of her teeth that sent chills racing the length of his spine. He pulled his head away to escape the warm teasing sensation and placed his cheeks against her hair, pausing to think guiltily of how horrified and shocked Jessica would be if she knew what was happening right here in the same office.

And then he thought, "Valerie, what about my girl? What if she can't find me and starts asking questions?"

Valerie Dodge's hand was on the handsome young man's inner thigh, brushing lightly, appraisingly, over the hardened bulge along the inside of his leg, admiring the long, thick ridge that poked eagerly against the material. "You can stop worrying. The girl on the desk will just tell her you are with Mrs. Dodge for an interview. You are an artist, aren't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"But nothing. Anyway, when we're... uh, finished, shall we say, with pleasure, we'll find time to talk business. Dodge always needs new artists. Especially those so..." her hand stroked the throbbing rigid length of his cock still growing harder inside his pants, "... well equipped."

They seemed frozen there for a long moment, Phillip half-leaning, half-crouching over the voluptuously naked wife of William B. Dodge, while the poor bastard was only an office or two away!

"Get your clothes off, honey," she whispered hoarsely, visibly excited now as she quivered beneath him, "I'll teach you some tricks that little teeny-bopper girlfriend of yours never dreamed of." Her thighs were grinding against his loins heatedly.

"You do want to fuck me, don't you Phillip?" Her voice was strained and husky now.

"Jesus Christ, yes!" he nearly shouted.

"Then let's hear you say it, baby," she cooed.

"Yes... I want to fuck you!"

"Is that all? Just fuck me... just an ordinary ol' fuck?"

"No, better man any you've ever had! Harder and deeper than you've ever had it!" Phillip was worked up to the bursting point, whipped into a panting, lusting rage by the naked woman's lewd urgings.

"God, baby, get naked and get in me! Hurry, I'm dying!" she moaned, pushing him away in her haste.

He jumped from the bed and began desperately stripping himself to join the already nakedly writhing woman so anxiously waiting for him on the silk covers, her smooth, milk-white curves laid bare before him like a feast. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness as he dropped his pants and under shorts together and stood over her still lying on the round bed with his cock jutting out in full naked erection from his hard muscular pelvis, a long, thick length of throbbing flesh and blood dangling before the unclothed married woman below. She lifted her body slightly and pulled off the last of the sheer robe that lay uselessly at her sides, leaving just her white garter belt and dark stockings, an incredible frame for the tantalizing temptation of her warm, moist furrow, her pussy-lips palpitating now with unbridled lust and wanton excitement. She lay back on the enormous bed and looked up at him standing stark nude over her; her eyes glued to the throbbing, blood-filled head of his young, eager cock standing out in the air. She watched the pulsing, lust-distended head a moment, then managed a hoarse, anguished plea, "Oh, get that marvelous hunk of meat in me, lover! I'm dying, baby, dying! Goddamn, get it deep inside me and screw me good, please! Jesus, get it in my cunt and fuck me before I burn up!"

He lay down on the bed beside her, dragging her over to him with the youthful strength of his muscular arms. He moved one hand down to the smoothness of her buttocks and cupped them. They were beautifully shaped and sinewy as he had expected them to be. Her body was warm and soft against him and she raised her face to his, locking her lips tightly to his as her hand searched down between them for the hardness of his penis. He gasped aloud this time at the coolness of her fingers around his throbbing rigidity. He pressed his head forward and kissed her back, hot and moist kisses that smothered her with his intense youthful passion. Her odor was maddening, a rich, exotic perfume that he'd never smelled before; the scent was appropriate for His fantastically passionate woman, a kind of tantalizing muskiness that reeked of erotic abandonment and perversions. Her lips were soft and gave before the harsh pressure of his with a warm yielding rubberiness that sent electric chills racing throughout his naked sinewy body. She crushed the full length of her body against his and ground her pelvis tightly into him before suddenly twisting her body in a frenzied burst of lustful passion, and pulling his body onto her full nakedness, opening her legs wide to take him between them; his cock probed up between her silken thighs, pressed eagerly against the puffed fleshy lips of her moist, warm pussy.

"Oh, please, fuck me, darting... I can't stand it! Please!"

William Dodge, having glanced twice at his platinum Rolex watch, excused himself from his lovely young office visitor, and stepped from the room through a door marked Private. Jessica Richards, cut off somewhat abruptly, though politely, in mid-sentence, just as she was describing the most recent modeling assignment she had worked on, sat rather puzzled, though not really very concerned. She knew that big corporate heads like William Dodge were constantly being interrupted and called away to meetings and such, and that abrupt disappearances like this were probably routine for a man like him. He'd been looking at his watch ever since his wife, Valerie, came in for a hurried, whispered chat a while before; whatever she had to tell him seemed to interest him greatly. She could actually see a rush of color and excitement come to his face as his attractive wife whispered her news in her husband's ear. Mrs. Dodge apologized profusely for the rude interruption and excused herself.