Chapter 5

The ocean shimmered in glistening yellows and pinks as the afternoon sun slowly sunk into the watery horizon outside of Jennifer's beach cottage. Jennifer moved restlessly across the living room, standing for a moment by the tray of reefers she had so carefully prepared for the party that night, counting them again to be sure there would be enough for her guests.

Her eyes slowly scanned the rest of the room and spotted two mugs on the window ledge half-filled with cold, black coffee. Taking them into the small kitchen, she rinsed the cups off with warm water, carefully rubbing the lipstick marks away with her thumb, then turned them upside down on the drainboard.

She walked back into the living room and inspected it once more. Everything seemed tidy enough, though she didn't know why she was going to so much bother for the party tonight. The people she picked out for her friends could really care less about such trivial matters as a tidy living room. All they cared about was getting high and tuning in to the wild music from her stereo collection... that, and of course the exchanging of ideas, and getting into heated arguments about the passing scene.

Most of this group consisted of the liberal faction as far as politics go, and they all insisted that the way to live your life was from a day to day existence, taking each minute and hour as it came.

They professed to love everyone, even their enemies, just as the old Testament directed... of course they didn't follow it exactly, for they practiced "free-love" as though it were a religious inspiration.

Jennifer reached down and picked up one of the reefers from the tray, lighting it and taking a deep drag, letting the sweet pungent smoke fill her lungs completely until she could feel a painful burning sensation at the back of her throat.

"Christ, this is good strong stuff," she muttered, pulling on it again and taking a longer, more prolonged drag.

Already her head began to feel deliciously light, as though she were slowly drifting into a fantastic dreamy world of pleasure. She giggled to herself and turned on the stereo, sexily undulating her loins to the latin beat of the music, now permeating the room with the pulsating beat of bongo drums.

She danced across the rug in delightful abandon, swinging her arms loosely out in front of her and turning in fast, rapid circular motions, freezing suddenly as the drums came back on and jerking her hips from side to side in time with their pounding rhythm.

The slowly burning reefer, now dangling loosely from her mouth, sparked and glowed from the swish of air that played across it's burning ember... as Jennifer whirled and twirled herself into absolute dizziness, then finally collapsed onto the rug in complete exhaustion.

Her entire body felt light and free from any weight, even the pull of gravitation. Her thoughts were all good and everything, even her most disturbing problems seemed minuscule and unimportant, now that the hashish had absorbed itself into the deep recesses of her mind.

She lay there momentarily, completely enjoying the familiar lifting sensation in her head, a sensual heightening of her mind as her thoughts spiraled beautifully around in her brain... the colors she saw and the things she touched, taking on a new and intensive perspective.

Patricia would be down in a few minutes, for it was almost time for the guests to arrive. The girl was deliberately delaying her entrance until a few people had arrived... Jennifer smiled to herself as she thought about Patricia's reluctance to be alone in the same room with her.

Ever since yesterday morning, when she had so skillfully conned the younger girl into going over to the studio and offering her services to Larry and Ellen, they had scarcely exchanged more than a few words to each other. Obviously, Jennifer knew, Patricia felt shy and embarrassed at what she thought of as her "faux pas." She was not in the position now to suspect that Jennifer had engineered their intimate affair in the bath, and the even more sensual love-play which had followed.

The whole episode had been nothing more to Jennifer than a sort of softening-up of the girl for Larry and Ellen. They wanted to be sure that the models she supplied to them didn't possess too many inhibitions, and what better way could there be of insuring that the girls would finally end up stripping and posing for them as sexily as possible?

All of her detailed preliminaries with the new models usually saved a great deal of time for the brother and sister, and Jennifer got a 15 percent increase on her commission if she succeeded in seducing the girls before they kept their first appointment. All the same, Jennifer did feel a slight pang of regret for the way in which she so cleverly deceived Patricia. Not that this girl was any different from the others, but Jennifer kept seeing her big hazel-green eyes, so sad and compassionate, and so filled with unvoiced dismay because she thought she had hurt Jennifer by her sexual performance. Of course, everything Jennifer had told her about the older girl seducing her was completely true. The episode had really happened in exactly the way she had related it to Patricia, but she had narrated the same story so many times, and to so many different girls, that it had long ago stopped seeming real to her. It was as if she had rehearsed the lines of a play so intensively that they no longer had the power to move her any longer, no matter how poignant they had been at the beginning.

She reached the final draw on her reefer and crushed the tiny butt into an ashtray, sighing regretfully as the thought of the whole messy affair lingered deep in her conscience. The hashish was increasing her self-pity gradually, until waves of misery began to steal through her tormented mind. With a determined effort, the girl swung her legs to the floor and forced herself to stand up. Movement of any kind seemed to disperse the effect of the drug, and feeling more in control of herself now, she walked back into the kitchen and poured herself a foaming glass of beer.

Greedily gulping down the frothy liquid until she could see the bottom of the glass, she heaved a sigh of relief and wiped off the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand... she felt better almost at once. There was really no sense in letting morbid feelings like this persist, she thought, besides, there was nothing that could be done about them, anyway. They were best ignored or suppressed.

Thinking of Patricia again, Jennifer giggled as she remembered that she had a further surprise in store for her Monday... Larry and Ellen were fast movers, and Patricia would soon learn plenty under their tutorship.

The ringing of the doorbell brought Jennifer back to the present, at last the party could get going, she thought impatiently, as she hurried to answer it. She opened the door with a set smile on her face, then gasped in amazement as she stared at her unexpected visitor. Before her stood Mark Saunders, an old boyfriend that she hadn't seen for months and months! Jennifer stood there speechless for a moment, not knowing quite what to say to him.

She had met Mark Saunders over a year ago at one of those ultra literary parties in Hollywood, and she took to him right away... he was handsome, charming, witty, and above all else, a rebel in every sense of the word.

During that first conversation between them, the young writer mentioned that one of his novels had been seized by the police and, after a brief court case, had been banned... after that Jennifer had seen to it that their first casual encounter had been followed by a brief, but blazing love affair.

Jennifer's strong animal attraction to him in the physical sense became even more poignant when she found that his basic social beliefs were almost identical to hers, although she found out later, unlike her he was a pure idealist and had a tendency to be a bit too romantic about sexual encounters. But he loathed authority of any kind; he was well-informed about the "hip" scene without being pretentious about it. One day he called her to tell her that he was going away to write a book, and that the LA scene was too distracting a place to concentrate in. That was the last time she had spoke to him, and often wondered in the months that followed what had happened to him... now as he stood there before her, all the old attraction for him was rapidly coming back...

"Mark! Where on earth have you been... It's so good to see you again!"

He laughed happily at her surprise, lifting her up in his arms, half-carrying her down the hall, and planted a warm kiss on her lips.

"Believe it or not I've been working, Jugs," he laughed. "Jugs" was the nickname he had christened her with the first time he got a look at her huge, firm breasts. He began to whirl her around and around him in a playful manner, still holding her helplessly in the air.

"Hey, put me down!" Jennifer wriggled her breasts against him, laughing and pretending to punch his shoulders.

He ignored her pleas and buried his face in her neck, growling and biting her skin playfully, as they came to the entrance of the livingroom. Then suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks! His eyes were opened wide in disbelieving amazement, staring past Jennifer at Patricia, now standing at the foot of the stairway.

"I don't believe it!" he half-whispered, then gave a long, dry whistle, his face still contorted from the sudden surprise. As if in a dreamlike trance, his hands slowly left Jennifer's body, lowering her gently to the floor.

Patricia was standing halfway on the last step of the stairway with her hand on the banister, looking at him as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Patricia!" He moved quickly towards her, caught both of her hands in his and gave the girl a broad, genuinely pleased smile. "This is fantastic! What on earth are you doing here?"

The touch of his hands on hers sent jolting electrical impulses whirring through her body, and she felt winded, as if she had just run for ten miles without stopping to rest. She blushed deeply, thinking that he could probably hear the pounding of her heart, thudding wildly inside her and pumping blood up to her brain so fast that she leaned slightly towards him to stop the dizziness.

Patricia took a deep breath and smiled up at him, determined not to let her emotions betray her, for she was not sure where she really stood with him now, or for that matter, just how much their brief affair had meant to him. When she finally spoke, her voice did not give away her inner feelings.

"I was just about to ask you the same question," she said, the initial excitement gradually ebbing.

His eyes were as warm and exciting as she remembered them, smoldering with secret promises of love and crinkling boyishly at the corners at the same time, as if he were laughing at his own burning desires.

"Friends?" he asked her quietly. And then Patricia suddenly remembered how abruptly she left the beach cottage that day, leaving no word of explanation.

She nodded, then smiled. "I tried to find you later, I--I wrote you but..."

He cut short her apologies. "There's no need to say anything," he told her. "We were both very much on edge then... Anyway... let's just forget it, luck is with me today, I've finally finished that book, and found you again in the same week. What more could I ask for?"

"Oh, Mark, I'm so happy for you. I knew how much you wanted to finish it, that's why I--"

"No more about that," he said softly, increasing the warm pressure of his hand on hers. "Are you staying with Jennifer now?"

"Y--Yes, I'm trying to find a steady job in modeling, and Jennifer's sort of helping me along... my money's running a little low right now." She looked over his shoulder and met Jennifer's eyes. The girl was staring at them with a puzzled, almost angry look on her face... as if she deeply resented their knowing each other.

Jennifer, who had been watching this exchange with mounting impatience, now interrupted the couple's intimate reunion.

"Suppose you two lovebirds come downstairs and help me open a few bottles of beer. It's time we got this party moving!" she called. "You'll have plenty of time for tete-a-tetes later on."

Patricia released her hands from Mark's, and looked over at the other girl quizzically. Jennifer was standing with her arms folded, now unable to disguise the anger in her voice and in her stance. What was the matter with her, Patricia wondered. Surely she wasn't jealous... Mark wasn't her lover too, was he? No, that wouldn't account for Jennifer's bad temper. She knew the girl well enough to realize that Jennifer was cool enough in her relationships not to be put out by an unfaithful lover. But something was clearly bothering her, and it obviously had some connection with Mark and herself.

Patricia shrugged her shoulders. Whatever it was, it couldn't be helped now that he was with her again. She hadn't realized before just how much he meant to her until he had appeared right out of the blue, but the pounding of her heart and weak feeling at the pit of her stomach told her that she wasn't about to let him get away so easily this time...

After those first few uncomfortable moments with Jennifer, Patricia noticed with relief the other girl gradually relax, becoming her old "cool" self again, laughing with them and telling Mark the latest gossip and happenings revolving around their inner circle of friends. It was not until much later when the rest of the people had firmly entrenched themselves in the livingroom, that Jennifer slowly withdrew from them, becoming moody once more and talking little to anyone around her. She began to chain-smoke from the tray of reefers... and at a rough count Patricia guessed that the girl had gone through at least six of the home-made sticks.

Patricia also noticed that none of Jennifer's "friends" seemed to pay very much attention to her withdrawal, for most of them were perfectly content to curl up on the floor and drink beer, talk and smoke an occasional reefer themselves. Patricia tried to join in the conversations, but despite the undeniably interesting topics which weaved patterns all around her, she was beginning to feel bored and restless.

Ever since Jennifer's first interruption, she hadn't really had much of an opportunity to talk to Mark, because the boy had been led into conversation after conversation as each new guest had arrived at the cottage.

He was in another intense conversation now with a studious- looking man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and dressed in the tweedy, casual manner of a university professor. From his appearance and from the way Mark listened to him, Patricia guessed that he was someone pretty influential. This was confirmed to her when the man finally left the room and Mark came over to the fireplace where Patricia sat with her back propped against the wall.

"He's a reader for one of the big publishers," Mark told her apologetically. "They might possibly take a chance on my next book... It's been difficult to find a publisher for what I'm really interested in writing... ever since that court case."

The room was thick with the fumes of hashish, and Patricia, who had still not experimented with the drug, felt a wave of nausea slowly envelope her as she looked back up at him.

"Couldn't we sneak up to my room and talk about it, Mark?" she asked with a half-pleading look in her upraised eyes. "All this smoke and noise is making me ill."

The never-ending L.P. of Indian music was turned up to the highest volume on Jennifer's stereo, with the plaintive, wailing sound of weird instruments filling the room, its purpose mainly to enhance the setting of the drug-takers.

Without another word or hesitation, Mark pulled Patricia to her feet, quickly stealing a glance at Jennifer who now seemed oblivious to everything happening around her. She lay with her head on another man's lap, eyes closed, her fingers tapping against her thigh in rhythm with the pulsating music.

As soon as they were safely inside her bedroom, Mark took her in his arms and began kissing her feverishly as if he were trying to absorb completely her voluptuous, young body by his ardent movements. He ran his trembling lips across the smooth skin of her forehead and down on her flushed cheeks, on the tip of her nose, then planted them firmly on her slightly parted lips. His mouth felt both familiar and strangely exciting to Patricia, as if she were tasting sweet water from a trickling fountain that would never be able to quench her thirst.

She pressed her body tightly against his, squashing her firm full breasts against his hard expansive chest, remembering the heated passion they both had shared months before. Patricia was wearing a dark green mini-skirt that ended just six inches above her well-formed knees. Beneath that, a pair of skin-colored tights served as both stockings and panties, covering her bottom half in seductive sheerness and transparency. A cool, crisp blouse tucked neatly below the narrow band of the skirt bristled its starchiness against the rough texture of his sports coat as their bodies rubbed and twisted against each other with mounting passion.

Mark worked his mouth over her parted, gasping lips, gradually slipping his tongue between her teeth, then slowly swirling it around the wet moistness within. He moved his hands down her body, drew her brief skirt up over her ripe buttocks and began to massage the firmly tensed cheeks through the sensuous feeling material of the girl's tights.

He moaned softly as he continued to massage them lovingly... they were so soft and supple, so easy to pull, first this way and then that... He pressed them tightly, straining her body even more against his own, his fingers curling so that they fitted contourously into the twin curves of her luscious buttocks.

Patricia's short skirt slowly began to creep up in front as she pressed against him tightly, and Mark could feel the hot coal of passion from deep within her loins burning against his leg. The warmth felt good on him, proof beyond a doubt that her cravings matched his own, and he gently nudged her legs apart with his knee, nestling the side of his thigh tightly against her open crotch.

Patricia responded rapidly to this fondling by placing her hands firmly on his buttocks, rubbing and caressing them sensuously as she jerked and twisted against him, her whole body now begging to be fucked again by him as she had been before. Her tongue worked violently inside his mouth, taunting him with its liquid, incessant movements. She made tiny little muffled cries, wrung torturously from her lips each time he pressed his thigh against her hot, open crotch.

Mark could feel his growing cock reaching full erection as Patricia writhed and squirmed her cunt shamelessly against him, and tried to hold himself in check now as he felt several small droplets of cum oozing from his throbbing gland. Two of his long fingers crept into the globular mounds of her ass cheeks, pushing the material of her tights well into the crease, rubbing greedily up and down the warm hollow until he could feel the tight, resilient hole of her tiny puckered anus.

She grunted in sharp surprise as his probing fingers tried to push into the tight elastic ring, and opened her legs wider, raising herself at the same time on tiptoe to press her hot, sweltering loins more intimately into his rising passion. She strained and squirmed her whole pelvis against him, feeling his penis slide to the left and right as she worked her crotch desperately into his rising maleness.

Breathing heavily, Mark ended their long kiss, and started to walk the lust-drunken girl backwards to the softness of her bed. They moved dreamlike as if in a trance for a half-dozen paces until the backs of Patricia's knees bumped softly against the edge of the mattress. Then he lowered her, his hands never leaving the hot, quivering cheeks of her bottom, until she was lying flat back on the bed... her feet still resting on the threadbare carpet.

He maneuvered himself down beside her, his fingers still securely entrenched in her protesting anus, taking lustful pleasure in her small mewls of pain. He brought his mouth down to her open thighs and pressed his lips along the soft silky inside of her leg. His mouth sank firmly into the resilient flesh, and she parted her thighs even wider, enabling him to see the quivering lips of her vagina, completely visible through the transparent nylon of her tights.

Patricia could now feel the pressure of his strong bands gently urging and pushing against the softness of her inner thighs until they were slowly spread wide apart in a V-position. She looked down on him, eagerly awaiting his next move, her secret treasure open to him to do as he willed. She watched with bated breath as his head lowered slowly then made firm contact with the target.

"Ohhhhh!" She jerked, as his hot moist lips closed over the soft hair-covered mound at the base of her belly. His hazy face disappeared from her view into the curly soft fleece as he planted wet tickling kisses on the nylon-covered mound, his tongue flicking lizard-like at the tight throbbing opening of her cunt.

With trembling, barely controllable hands, Patricia quickly unbuttoned her blouse and, arching her body and pushing her screaming loins hard against his face in the movement, she desperately reached back and unclasped her bra. Not wanting to lose the urgency of the moment, she moved her own hands sensuously down over her throbbing breasts and slid them slowly down her smooth flat stomach, coming to rest on either side of his lips. Her fingers stroked softly for a moment at the flexing hollows of her inner thighs moving her legs open and shut against his ears and allowing him as much access as was possible through the straining nylon to her hot, moist pussy.

Through the thin-stretched material of her tights, he tasted the warm secretion now amply flowing from inside her into his sucking mouth, the thin, veneered hose totally inadequate to hold him at bay. His tongue pushed hard into the tense stretch of the tights pressing them wetly into her pink, open slit, and licked rapidly at the pulsating clitoris between her thighs. His thumbs pressing firmly on either side of it, caused it to bulge out more prominently than before.

Patricia strained her body, making a tremendous effort of will-power to keep her hips untensed and her buttock muscles slack. She closed her eyes blissfully and moved her hands back up to the twin globular mounds of her titties. The nipples had started to throb lewdly already, and it required only a brief manipulation with the tips of her fingers for her to feel them grow more stiff and erect. The wonderful tongue darting lizard-like between her wide-spread legs seemed to be causing her already ballooning breasts to inflate much larger than their normal size. They seemed so huge now that Patricia was getting almost as great a thrill from touching and fondling them as she was from the sensuous licking tongue thrusting between her legs below.