Chapter 1

Beyond the high, pumic-stone wall and below the steep cliff-side, the surf roared in great sweeps of white foam against the rocky shore-line, the blue waters of the Pacific sparkling like a sea of priceless gems beneath the brilliant California sky. On an inflated rubber raft, bound by the azure-colored tiles of her heart-shaped swimming pool, the curvaceous blonde girl with the long shapely legs, though aware the view was all there gave it little thought. As always, it was the soothing sound of the pounding surf and not the sight which tranquilized her. In fact, the vast ocean in its incessant anger actually upset her, but then, it wouldn't take much to do that this bitchy midday, she irately thought.

Idly floating atop the breeze-stirring, crystal clear water, Eve Novak lay stretched out on her back, wide-brim hat shading her half-closed green eyes, a cooler glass filled with ice, gin and tonic resting wetly against the satiny skin of her sun-tinted, flattened belly. From beneath the brim, she could look down between the rounded white mounds of her naked breasts, following the sleek, symmetrical lines of the sexy, tanned legs to her tiny feet with their daintily pedicured, clear-polished nails where the sun reflected in scintillating glimmers. These she concentrated on for a few wasteful moments in an effort to escape the fuming bitterness the young boy had left with her when he had just up and walked out some hour or so before.

Goddamn him, anyway! She hoped to hell the cops busted him, the ungrateful, hair-faced junkie! And they would sooner or later, no doubt about that, but it wouldn't mean a damn thing. Just another check-mark on his already worthless existence. Hadn't he admitted to her at least a half-dozen prior arrests for everything from pushing drugs to rape and armed robbery? Ooohhh! The filthy bastard, accepting her luxuriant bed and food, the likes of which he'd never even remotely dreamed of, reveling in it, and, her naked body for three days and nights, then having the gall to casually tell her she bored him! God, every time she thought about it, she could just scream out in rage!

What was even more exasperating to her than all else was the fact that she did feel his loss... that she'd actually been hurt and had begged him not to leave... and that he'd merely stood there by the door grinning at her, his handsome, young white teeth gleaming through the thick, heavy beard she had pampered and groomed for him, his lack of feeling for her as obvious in his hardened eyes as the untold number of men she had walked out on had probably seen in her own!

"Lady, you're a drag... know what I mean?" he'd droned with absolutely no inflection in his twenty year old tone. His young, hazel eyes were cold and empty, dilating from the fix he had shot into himself not twenty-minutes before in her bathroom, a poke of stuff she had bought for him the previous night from a known pusher in Monterey. "Fuck and suck and fuck again, that's all that clogs your pretty warped head. Hasn't anyone ever told you that cunt of yours is for pissing, too?"

"Oh, you... you ungrateful bastard!" Eve had steamed, barely able to hold herself from going at him with her unique set of clawing-talons.

"Ungrateful... ? Hey, what's to be grateful for, baby? Like you bathed and fed me and I gave you some cock. So, we all got our kicks, didn't we?" he measured in that same vacant monotone. "I mean, you liked that taming the wild masculine beast, driving him crazy to crawl up between your luscious legs, or just laying there while you sucked the cum right out of the lining of his balls! So I played your game for a few days, but it was all jazz, nothing more, cunny-girl. You bought me some stuff and in payment, I let you use my cock to your heart's content. So what's this grateful shit?"

Remembering it vividly now, Eve could still feel the scalding tears blurring her eyes. Yet, even with the rage that'd been nearly consuming her, the thought of losing him had suddenly swept away all of the ego and pride she had ever known, or shown, with any of the multitude of men in her life. God, mean and heartless young animal that he was, she needed him! He did something for her, however warped and perverted it might be... !

"Please, Bo-Bo darling?" she'd pleaded, realizing now that she had never even learned his real name. "I-I'm sorry if I said... or did anything to make you angry... !" She had reached out for his hand which he casually drew out of her reach. "Don't leave me? Eve needs you, baby- doll. She loves you! My God, lover, who is she going to bathe and sweeten all up? Who is going to explain to her what the whole world is all about, and... and why there's no future less we have complete revolution... ?"

"Oh, slip down off that dung-pile, lady," he'd disgustedly threw at her. "You got problems all right, and you need help about as much as any chick I've ever crawled on. The way I see it, for what it's worth, you've lived sixty years in your thirty, fucked and sucked... yeah, done it all until there's no more kicks left in the bag for you. My old man used to say that was what the movies did to its people, and I can see it in you... probably the only piece of truth he ever spoke. You're strung-out, babe, unraveled because you've drained your pot of sex. Now, you're leaning to the weirdo bag, else why should a cunt with all your beauty and loot want to jump into a lion's cage for a bang?"

"P-Please, Bo-Bo... I'll do anything you want... buy you a new Jag like you were talking about last night? Honest! We'll go down today an... !"

He'd pushed her away when she'd started to move toward him, trying to encircle him inside her arms. "Fuck off, lady! Take up knitting, or buy yourself a dog! This man's got itchy feet and new pussies to conquer!" He'd opened the door and stepped outside then, the outline of his muscular, young body in its faded jeans, T-shirt... rags, wavering in her tear brimmed eyes. Her hands, she remembered, had gone to her mouth so that Conchita, the cook, wouldn't hear her burst out crying and come on a run. "But for what it's worth, Eve baby, I'll always remember the movie starlet with the big heart and the tight, beautifully educated cunt. You were a tremendous moment in Bo-Bo's life! He's not about to forget you... !"

A tremendous moment in his life, she had thought then, sobs uncontrollably choking up from her throat, and again that thought tore bitterly at her as she floated placidly on her raft in the security two wealthy ex-husbands and an unremembered number of lovers had made possible. But there were no more strangling sobs now. That moment had passed as it had myriad times before for whatever their reason, and now only the mean emptiness she had been left with so many, many times since she'd ran away from that Nebraska farm with a summer-stock actor named, Robert Calwart, remained.

Eve had been sixteen at the time, and he forty, handsome, a ticket to the capitol of the world for her. God, she hadn't even been a virgin then, had she? No, there'd been three hired men... or was it four?... what difference? Robert had really been good to her and three months later they had wound up in L.A. where it really all began. It was exactly what she wanted, to be on Hollywood's doorstep where she could display the physical endowments she well knew she possessed. And through Ben Zachary, Robert's agent, she'd gotten her first bit part in a B movie. Of course, it'd meant sleeping with Ben, another basically good, forty year old man, but she'd hardly minded. His fat little tongue had been like a wildly striking snake up between her legs, and it hadn't been long before she'd moved her things to his apartment. On and on it had gone, from Ben's bed to others she could hardly remember, and finally a pair of lesbian actresses shacking together who admitted her to make a troilism. That hadn't been so awful, either, especially considering the way they had managed to secure better and better parts for her, until she had finally met Roy... Roy Marvin, the last of the small-time western stars.

She and Roy had married when she was eighteen in '60, their nothing association lasting three years and two abortions. Sidney Bartell, the British star had been next, the perfect arrangement, she'd thought. Poor Sid, such a beautiful man and an unconvertible homo who needed a wife for his box-office image. How could she miss? Five years of free-wheeling on both their parts, numerous unimportant roles for her, as she began to appear in nudies with the new permissive approach, and finally Robert's death in an auto accident in Mexico which had brought that episode to a profitable end. She had inherited Cliffside here in Big Sur country and close to a half-million dollars in cold cash after taxes, boosting her bank-account well into the security range. The promiscuous little farm girl from Nebraska had made it after all... but at what cost? The last few months, she had pondered that question too often...

It weigh bitterly on her mind at the very moment as she floated about the pool, the prevailing breezes moving her, haphazardly, a great deal like her very existence, she rancourously thought, the tears of earlier grief beginning to pass. Of course, those tears would subside and go away forever, she knew from experience. It was just the immediate heartache, the egotistical loss of a lover she hadn't personally shed... but... but he had never been a lover like any of the others, had he?

There had been nothing suave or sweet smelling about Bo-Bo when she'd met him at The Haven, a small bar adjacent to the village's leading hotel in the nearby corners of Cala Mar. She'd been shopping for a handbag, had bought a snake-skinned one in fact, which she was quite pleased with and had gone into the lounge for a gin-tonic to examine it. He'd stood at the bar, down at the far corner as if he were not permitted to enter into the center of things, drinking beer from a bottle. Somehow, and she would never remember how that had happened, she had looked up to stare right into his leveled, perceptive eyes.

Had she given him some sort of come-on? Eve hardly remembered, but suddenly he was standing there with his beer bottle in his hand next to her table, smiling down at her. God, he'd been a stack of dirty rags, smiling warmly through a mow of unkempt whispers, his waved brown hair dangling around his shoulders. Yes, she had smelled him!

"W-Why don't you sit down... seeing you've come this far, stranger?" she said, looking up at him with dancing eyes, just the knowing of his being invited to her table enough to jar the house staff with whom she was quite familiar. The odd part of it was that she'd just shaken off a Vic someone-or-other, a twenty-three year old and spoiled son of an electronic scion from San Francisco who had wanted to marry her, ridded herself of him with a vow that she'd have no more to do with immature men, if any at all! But the knowing smile on this one's hardly visible face, and the expression in his young vibrant eyes at that moment had easily persuaded her, inciting her loins with visions of lewd sexual delights to come.

"Come ahead, sit down," she pressed, setting her new handbag in the chair next to her.

He did, very methodically, every movement a slow and decisive work of skepticism. He said, "You're Eve Novak. I watched a late-movie you were in on TV in a Phoenix hotel lobby a week ago. That... that was before they kicked me out." He grinned. "You were just a little girl then, but you haven't changed much. 'Beach Bang' was the name of it. Remember... ?"

Eve nodded. She sure enough did remember. It was the bit-thing Ben Zachary had first gotten for her and she'd had to suck-off the Director every day for a month! You didn't forget a milestone like that when the man was almost sixty years old!

"You were pretty corny, but man, what a stack of curves," he said. "I thought about you for two nights after... even wondered whatever happened to you, and bloody fuck, here I run smack into you!"

At that moment, his use of the four letter word, though not uncommon in her particularly limited circle, sent a tremulous thrill tingling through her sensual, mini-clad body. For a moment, she wasn't sure whether to smile or show some up-tightness at his casual, obscene words, but then he had followed through taking her completely unaware.

"Not only do I meet you right out, but I find that the body you swiveled in that flick was babyfat compared to what I see now... say nothing of the face! Hey, lady, you're beautiful, you know it... ?"

He laughed, a warm and thrilling sound. "The lady and the tiger!" he said. "So... tame me, lady! Tame me, if you can!

She grabbed at his torn T-shirt, beginning to undress him right there in her plush living room, knowing that Manuel and Conchita were in their quarters and wouldn't come unless called. He laughed and so did she. "You're filthy!" she said, and then he roared, throwing back his head. "Who wants a filthy lover?" she giddily put to him, pulling at the wide- belt of his jeans. "Who did you sleep with last night?"

"A bunch of nasty-bastard ants! That's the truth! They just about chewed my ass off," he said as she made him step out of his ragged jeans and stand there with only his almost white, jockey shorts covering his total nakedness, the swell of his genitals huskily outlined before her hungering eyes, causing wild sensations of excitement to flutter intoxicatingly through her.

The opened windows and the ocean breeze continued to taunt her incited, flaring nostrils with strong essences of his young, real masculinity as he slipped his strong arms around her hour-glass waist, the mass of hair smothering his young, under-arms stimulating her the more at their virile sight!

"You're a tiger, all right... or are you just a pussycat?" Eve questioned, smoothing her small, soft hands over the hard, muscular development of his upper ribcage and youthful, hairy chest as he began to pressure tighter against her, the sensation of his long, stirring penis against her yielding, resilient belly like a squirming snake filled with fire!

"That's for you to decide, lady."

"My name is Eve, remember?"

"Sure... but I think I'll call you cunny-girl. You like that... cunny-babe? Cunny-honey... ?"