Chapter 2

"I'll get that," Dr. Fortner called to his daughter from the living room.

They hadn't been home more than a half hour, and the doorbell was jangling already. The man had to admit that he, too, would welcome a little jungle solitude for a change.

"Hi, Dr. F.," Cathy's chipper little voice called in to him from the front steps. The man stood back and let the exuberant girl and the young man accompanying her come into the room. He stared at the young man a moment, waiting to be introduced.

"Uh, Dr. Fortner," Cathy said, remembering her manners at last, "this is Harold Rhymer. Harold, this is Blair's father."

"I think you'd better have a seat in the living room," the dapper grey-haired man said, "the rest of the rooms are filled with packing crates."

"Thanks," Cathy said, ushering her date into the front room.

Blair came tripping down the steps calling to her father, "Is that Cathy?"

"Yes, dear," her father shouted back, "and the young man accompanying her."

Blair's feet hit the bottom of the steps and she stared a moment. This was Cathy's date? He wasn't at all what she had expected. She thought somebody bookish, pale, and drawn... like Owen Divers, maybe.

But this guy was a gorgeous hunk of beefy manhood. Tall and stately, but extremely well-developed muscularly.

And he had a beard. What was it about men with beards that automatically rated them an extra three points in her book? And this wasn't just a little skimpy Van Dyke, this was a full-blown beard.

Luscious, full, and hairy. Just the way she liked them.

But she shouldn't be standing here drooling over him mentally, after all, he was Cathy's date.

"How do you do?" Harold Rhymer said, standing up tall and erect and staring her in the eyes. He gets another two points just for looking me in the eye, Blair thought to herself as she joined them on the sofa.

"How was the dinner?" Cathy said, eagerly smiling over at her friend.

"A little like a wake, only there was less to drink," Blair said back. "I guess I shouldn't be saying such things in front of my father, though. Sorry, Dad."

"Oh, that's quite all right," the steely-eyed, sober man said back to her, "I get a little tired of that university crowd myself once in a while. Won't be seeing much of them for the next six months, though."

"Six months?" Harold said.

In spite of herself, Blair found herself bristling at the sound of his voice. It was dark and deep and heavy. Irresistible. Like molasses pouring out of a long spout.

Blair blinked her eyes hard and tried to snap herself out of these daydreams she was having lately. Probably had something to do with not getting laid in the last eight weeks.

"Blair and Dr. Fortner are going to Africa tomorrow," Cathy said, "that's why I wanted to come over... just to say Good-bye to them."

"Business or pleasure?" the young man asked, leaning back in the chair and looking at the fascinating souvenirs of a life lived in the exotic and far-flung outposts of the world.

Ivory, wood-carved statues and stone urns and pottery pieces cluttered the room. Thick, blonde straw mats and animal skin rugs lay on the floor. Spears and hunting blow-guns lined the walls. It almost looked like the African room at the museum.

"Business, but it's my pleasure, too," the grey-haired Dr. Fortner answered.

"Dr. Fortner researches Greater Primates," Cathy said, "he's also written a lot of books about man's relationship to apes. Did you read Man and Ape Man? That was his."

"I sure did," the thick-voiced, dark-haired man said, "great book."

"Thank you," Dr. Fortner said, "I'm happy about that one. Gave me a chance to interest the public in our distant cousins, the apes."

"Fascinating subject," Harold said, nodding his head as if in agreement with himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Fortner."

"Thank you," the man said, standing up and shaking the ashes out of his pipe into the fireplace, "but I'm afraid the meeting will have to be short-lived. I have some papers to go over before I travel tomorrow. Blair, you stay here with your friends. No need you running off to bed, just because I have work to do."

"Night, Dad," Blair said, rising to her feet and kissing the man on the cheek.

"Goodnight, dear," he said, embracing her. He stepped to the sofa and reached out to take Cathy's hand, "Goodnight and Farewell, Cathy. You have our address, I trust."

"Very good," Cathy said, bowing to his humor, "but I can write you in care of the university, can't I?"

"Yes," Blair said, "every day if you like. But we don't usually get the mail except once every two months, so I may be getting quite a stack from you when it finally does get to me."

Dr. Fortner took his leave and the three sat in the living room chatting about things in common.

Blair discovered that Harold was indeed a scientist, too, like her father. Only he was in graduate school, studying Anthropology.

"We have a lot in common," he found himself saying to the blonde girl after several minutes.

"How so?" she said, "you study humans and Dad and I study animals. That makes us only distantly related."

"Don't turn up your nose, Blair," Cathy said, "Humans deserve to be studied, too. I myself like to study them. Especially in shopping malls."

"Interesting," Harold said, reaching in his back pocket for a cigarette.

When he did, Blair noticed a rich, lush growth on his chest, just below his collarbone. What was it about men with hairy chests? She loved men with hairy chest. How come Cathy got so lucky all of a sudden? She had been looking for some piece of beef like this Rhymer guy for some time and nothing so far.

Then, on the night before the night she has to sail away, her best friend waltzes in the door with this! Nice work, Cathy.

"I find personally that humans in some situations behave more like animals," the young man continued.

"I wouldn't put animals down like that," Cathy said.

"She's right, you know, Harold," Blair said, "You defame animals by comparing them to humans."

"Didn't know I'd find myself in the company of two beautiful animal lovers tonight," he said, lighting his cigarette with the lighter on the teak wood table in front of him.

"So what's wrong with animals?" Blair found herself snapping defensively.

"Nothing at all," Harold replied, "they're fine in their place. But they are, you must admit, somewhat limited."

"Yes," Blair said, "if you define them and explain them in human terms. But we must remember, animals don't abide by human terms. They have a code of their own, depending on the species, of course."

She didn't know why she felt hot and flushed all over all of a sudden. Maybe the heat. But there wasn't mach of that. Possibly the arguing, but this was hardly an argument, either.

Maybe it was that Rhymer guy. He was a big, beautiful specimen of the human race if she had ever seen one. She caught a little sneaky peek of the hair in between his open shirt collar again. It was every bit as dark and thick and ample as she remembered it from the last peek.

Yes, she thought, feeling the little trill of her cunt lips as they vibrated together enough to make her clit stiffen slightly. It probably was him. Why did he have to be so gorgeous and hairy, anyway?

After a few snatches of innocuous conversation, she grabbed a hold of Cathy by her jacket lapel.

"Let's go into the bathroom, uh, the kitchen a moment, Cathy," she said, trying not to sound too eager, "I have to show you something."

Cathy bounced up and wondered to herself what in hell her friend was keeping in the kitchen that would be worth pulling her away from Harold Rhymer. But, she padded dutifully after her friend anyway.

"How would you like to give me a going-away present, Cathy?" she said, smiling cautiously at her friend.

"Hadn't thought much about it, Kid," Cathy said, leaning against the kitchen counter and eyeing the refrigerator, "What have you got in mind?"

"Harold?" Blair said in a quiet, deadly little voice.

A full twenty seconds before an answer.

"No way, man," her diminutive friend shot back, "I saw him first."

"Oh, come on, Cathy," she begged, "wouldn't it be a blast? The three of us together? It's only for tonight. It has to be."

"Are you crazy?" Cathy said, staring wide-eyed at her friend and neighbor. What did this looney tune dame have on her mind anyway? Did she think she was a faggot or something?

"You think I'm queer, is that it?" Cathy said.

"Oh, Cathy," the blonde girl said, feeling a rush of hot steam escape her lips and trying to get a grip on her patience, "threesomes don't mean you're queer."

"Who said anything about a fucking threesome," Cathy felt near to the boiling point. Not that she didn't want to get it on with Harold. And maybe someday, she'd even like to get it on with Blair. But both of them. In the same night? She was hardly prepared for a double whammy like that all at once.

"Why don't you give it a try?" Blair said, "please? For old time's sake?"

"What old times?" the fuzzy-haired girl shot back hotly, "we're only nineteen."

"Give it a try, Cathy," a voice said from the doorway, "you might like it. Besides, I won't think you're queer, either of you."

They fell apart like the waves of the Red Sea in the wake of Moses and the Israelites.

Harold Rhymer strolled casually into the kitchen, letting the swinging door flap behind him.

"I couldn't help overhearing," he said, "sorry."

"Oh, don't be," Cathy said, in mock gaiety, "Happens all the time. I just can't stop going out with adorable, brilliant men that my best friend falls head over heels in love with the minute I introduce them."

"It's hardly love, Cathy," Harold said, leaning against the wall, "just strong physical attraction."

Blair had to shake her head to be sure she heard him right. How the hell did this male know so much anyway? Apparently he had instincts she didn't know about. Good healthy instincts. Animal instincts.

"He's right, Cath," Blair said, smiling gamely at her friend, "I'm not nuts about him. It doesn't work like that. I just like him. Maybe even just for tonight."

"We can go right on seeing each other, Cathy," Harold said, his voice the essence of calm composure, "if we both want to. After Blair leaves I mean."

"But tonight?" Cathy said, swallowing hard.

"Well," Harold began, completely in control of himself, "tonight I'd like to be with both of you, if you don't mind."

"Wow!" Cathy said, shaking her head and trying to take it all in. "You two certainly have me beat for lack of inhibitions. Guess I'm not that cool."

"Oh, you're cool all right," Blair said, nodding to her friend, "Maybe too cool. If you don't want to get involved, we can drop it, as far as I'm concerned."

"Me, too," Harold said, patting his date on the back, "I don't want to do anything that would upset you."

"Where?" Cathy said, blandly.

"Where what?" Blair said, shaking her head in confusion.

"Where shall the three of us get it on?" the girl said, making a face and putting her hand over her mouth to keep back a giggle.

"Let's go upstairs," Blair said, beckoning the two of them to follow her. "But don't make too much noise. Dad may be asleep by now."

"Don't want this to turn into a foursome," Cathy giggled as they climbed the stairs. "Not that I'd mind getting it on with your dad, Blair. He's such a handsome guy."

Blair pushed her bedroom door open and the three of them tiptoed in like thieves in the night.

As soon as the lady of the house flicked on the lights, Harold stared at the walls so hard he almost forgot what he had come up here for. There were pictures all over the place. Even on the ceiling. Monkeys, apes, chimpanzees, gibbons, orangutans, spider monkeys, baboons... primates of every size, color and description. Doing all kinds of things.

One of them had a monkey on Blair's shoulder. She looked to be about eleven or twelve in the picture. She was a beautiful little angelic girl, even then.

"This you?" he said, pointing toward it.

"Taken in Ceylon," she said, "Sri Lanka, they call it now."

"That's beautiful," the man said, taking off his jacket.

Blair had to hold her breath a moment when the man's jacket came off. She was more anxious than she wanted to admit. She licked her lips anxiously and waited for him to unbutton his shirt. Dared she hope that his entire body would be covered with that rich, dark lustrous coating of hair that so boldly sprang from his chest?

"I've never had a girl eat my pussy before," Cathy said, trying not to let her fingers shake as she unbuttoned her filmy silk blouse. She flipped it open and let the material slide over her suntanned golden shoulders.

"Wow!" Harold said, staring at her as she let the material of her bra cups up and over her perfectly-shaped hot round tit loads.

"Thanks," she said, edgily groping for her skirt zipper. She was more excited than she wanted to admit as she watched Blair unbutton her safari shirt.

She had seen her friend nude a lot of times. In fact, she could hardly get her to keep her clothes on whenever they sunbathed or gardened or cooked together.

The girl seemed to be a born nudist. But to crawl into bed with this gorgeous girlfriend of hers? That was something she hadn't even dreamed of... well, maybe a couple of times.

But she never thought she would see it turn into a reality.

The blonde's luscious big tit hunks popped into view like twin moons rising above the earth.

"That's gorgeous," she heard Harold say.

He seemed to be admiring both of them. That was diplomatic of him. Anyway, he was being a gentleman about the whole thing. Not grabbing ass or tweaking tit or anything that lewd.

The man unbuttoned his shirt, not daring to look away from the incredibly good double bill on the screen in front of his eyes. He fumbled with the buttons and didn't manage much grace getting out of his shirt, but he was so glued to the spot. He hadn't seen a prettier pair of girls anywhere in his entire academic career. And to think the two of them lived right next door.

"Glad I'm not your neighbor," he heard himself say, pulling off his under-shirt. "I'd be over here trying to bang both of you every night of the week."

"Panderer," Cathy said, fishing for the elastic of her half- slip.

"Is something wrong?" Harold said, looking at Blair who seemed to be transfixed as she gazed at his chest.

"Oh, no," Blair said, shaking herself back to consciousness.

She couldn't believe the beautiful thick growth all over his chest. And as if that weren't enough, running down his arms, too. What was it about hairy men? She loved them. She hoped he would have a similar black patch running down from his groin to the floor along both legs. That would be the capper all right.

She stepped eagerly out of her safari pants and tossed them over a chair.

"Want some help?" she said to her friend, who was fumbling helplessly with her under panties.

"No!" Cathy sung merrily back to her, "I can manage."

Harold gripped his belt buckle and stared at the fine array spread before him. The blonde girl's pussy mound was covered with a thicket of blonde angelic light hair that barely concealed her pussy lips and thick pink clit. It was a sight to behold.

And it was a sight that made his pecker grow long and angry, the longer it was left out of the action.

He felt it throb against the inside of his briefs, waiting, thudding against his zipper, eager to be unleashed.

And her tit peaks were succulent to make a meal of. Cathy's were no less breathtaking, if a little smaller. Their nipples did provide a dramatic contrast, though. Cathy's pert, sharp little rose pink ones. And Blair's rather dark, thick rubbery purplish- tinged pair. He couldn't decide which ones to chew on first.

He unzipped his big steely metal zipper and let his pants down over his hips.

Blair let out a gasp when she saw his heavily thicketed legs. They were her dream of a man's legs. Covered from top to base with a lush, shining covering of hair so dark and deep, she could sink her face into it and have to come up for air.

She motioned to Cathy to join her and the two of them slowly, teasingly hooked their hands around the elastic of his briefs and lowered them down over his hardening man cock.

"Oh, my God!" Cathy shouted out first. She had the frontal view as the brief lowering took place.

"Well?" Blair said, coming around to where her friend was standing for a look. The look turned into a fifteen second admiration society.