Chapter 1

The mall was crowded with students, all eager to take advantage of the sunshine and the soft spring breeze that blew gently off the river. Every bench was occupied, and even the wide concrete borders which fringed the flowerbeds were jammed with chattering teenagers, their spirits lifted by the final departure of winter and the sight of thousands of daffodils which heralded the approaching season.

The clock on Old Main indicated eleven-thirty, and Suzanne glanced up impatiently as she pushed her way through the throng. Yvonne had said eleven-fifteen. Where was she? Nervously, Suzanne turned and bumped into a tall, blond young man, who grinned at her impudently. "What's the hurry?" he said in a lazy drawl, his eyes quickly scanning her figure approvingly.

"Sorry," she muttered, stepping back, then going on again. Her ears burned as she heard a soft whistle of appreciation before he became lost in the crowd. She smiled to herself; he had been rather nice-looking. But not as handsome as Sam. No one was as handsome as Sam. Oh, why couldn't she have gone with him to Europe? Almost subliminally she heard her mother's voice: "Go to Europe with that young man? Suzanne, you must be out of your mind. What would the neighbors say? Of course, if you got married first..."

Married. who would want to get married at nineteen? Maybe some kids did, but then usually because they had to. And Suzanne had decided when she was fifteen that she was going to wait, at least until she was out of college. Of course, after meeting Sam, she had been sorely tempted. Sam was a very persistent suitor; it had taken all her will power not to give in to him, not only to his proposal, but his propositions as well.

She felt a tingling in her loins at the memory of his strong face above hers, his hands gently caressing her body, and the suggestive bulge in his pants. That bulge. Oh, how many times hadn't she wanted to reach out and feel it, the way his fingers would feel her breasts. But every time, her mother's voice rang in her ears, and her mounting desires would suddenly turn to guilt and self-recrimination, and Sam would again go home, frustrated and disappointed. No wonder he went to Europe; he was probably sleeping with every available girl he met. At least that's what Yvonne had said to her. Yvonne... where was she?

Suzanne glanced up at the clock again. Eleven-forty. She hated people who weren't punctual, and Yvonne should know better.

"Here you are, darling!"

The throaty greeting penetrated above the noisy clamor, and Suzanne turned with a smile of relief.

"Yvonne, where've you been?"

The angular face beamed at her. "Right here. Since eleven- fifteen. I guess I was too busy checking over the new talent. Christ, I think these kids get sexier each semester."

Yvonne's overly large and overly made-up eyes followed two young men as they walked past. She gave a soft whistle.

"Did you see the basket on that one?"

Suzanne grabbed her arm, and began guiding her through the crowd towards Woodward Avenue.

"Yvonne, you're too much. Can't you think of anything else?"

Yvonne laughed, a thunderous bellow that had once been likened to the blast of the tug-boats on the river.

"Anything else, darling? Oh, come off it, my little vestal virgin. Once you spread your legs for a man, you'll find there's not much else worth thinking about."

Suzanne bit her lip and remained silent. Although she was rather proud of her virginity, she had to admit the many moments when she had almost given it away to Sam. Oh, Sam, where the hell are you right now?

"Believe me, Suzanne, I hope you do get laid pretty soon. It's good for the digestion, among other things. Where do you want to eat? Verne's?"

They turned down the sidewalk and walked past the Maccabees Building. Suzanne kept silent, with her friend's words echoing in her brain. Maybe she would get laid after all. No, no, no. The little voice rose again, as it always did; save it for Sam. He's the only one. He loves you. And you love him. Let his shaft be the first one to break through into your pulsating cavern. Oh, Sam... Sam...

She blinked her eyes as they left the sunlit sidewalk and entered the darkened interior of the bar. Yvonne led the way over to a corner table and collapsed into a chair. Suzanne seated herself opposite and smiled.

"Good to see you," she said sincerely, looking across the table at her friend, thinking again that she was indeed fortunate to have an older woman to guide her through the first hectic weeks of classes at Wayne. Not that she was helpless; but after graduating from a high school class of only sixty-two, she felt more than overpowered by the size of the student body. She remembered hearing that the total enrollment at Wayne State was over twenty-five thousand. No more personal touches from the teacher; she would be merely a small insignificant cog in the educational machine,

"What are you having?"

The slender, pale-faced girl had approached the table, pencil and pad poised. Yvonne looked up and blew smoke in her face, unintentionally.

"I'm having a hamburger, dear," she said. "Okay for you, Suzanne?"

Suzanne nodded. "Yes, please. And a large Coke."

"I'll take a vodka and seven," said Yvonne, "I need a little something this morning. Last night just about wore me out."

She gripped her cigarette firmly, and Suzanne noticed the fine lines around her lips, matching those at the corners of her eyes. Suzanne had never asked Yvonne her age, but she suspected it was around thirty. Yvonne had been going to Wayne for over six years. She jokingly referred to herself as a professional student.

"So, you excited?"

Suzanne nodded.

"Of course I am. I've been looking forward to this for years. Of course, mother isn't very happy about my getting the apartment."

Yvonne's throaty laugh echoed through the bar. "Of course she wouldn't be. She's afraid you're going to start dragging in every male on campus. But then..." Yvonne's eyes twinkled. "I guess there's not much chance of that as long as you're carrying that torch for Sam, huh?"

Suzanne nodded. "Not a chance."

"Well, you can always come up and spend those lonely evenings with me and Carole."

"Thanks, but I plan to do a lot of studying. I'm also going to start a little project of my own, investigating the poor families in the neighborhood. That's one of the reasons I'm moving into your building. It's close enough to that section up on West Forest. I want to really find out how those people live and what their problems are."

Yvonne sniffed. "Just watch yourself. You might be able to walk down the streets in Grosse Pointe at night without getting raped, but not in this neighborhood. So just be careful."

"I will."

"And..." Yvonne giggled. "If you do get in a situation that looks like trouble, remember to go for the groin. A swift kick in the balls will stop just about anyone."

"I'll remember," Suzanne said, flushing slightly. She leaned back as the waitress brought their drinks. Yvonne lifted her glass.

"Well, here's to it," she said, "And may he be hot, horny and handsome, whoever he is."

"Yvonne, you're too much," said Suzanne.

"Never," was the blunt reply, "And take it from me, my girl, once you've had a good hard cock up your innocent little pussy, you'll know what life's all about."

"Yvonne, don't talk like that," said Suzanne, her face turning scarlet. "It's not nice."

"You sound like your mother," said Yvonne cynically. "No wonder you're an only child. She probably let your old man in once, and that was that. Don't you make the same mistake. There's nothing like a good fuck to keep a girl in shape."

The waitress returned with their food, and Suzanne breathed a sigh of relief. She liked Yvonne very much, but her incessant preoccupation with sex made Suzanne feel uncomfortable. She knew what Yvonne said was probably true, but that was one area of truth she hadn't yet learned to face without embarrassment. Her mind fled back to the last night she had spent with Sam before he flew to Europe. They had attended a dance at the Detroit Yacht Club, and afterwards Sam drove to a secluded spot on Belle Isle, and they sat watching the lights of the ships on the river and the distant skyline of Windsor, and Suzanne had wanted to cry her eyes out at the thought of being without Sam for three months. He had put his arms around her, and their kisses were deep and prolonged. She felt her loins stirring with desire, and Sam's fingers caressing her breasts did nothing to ease her mounting passions.

Finally, Sam had taken her hand and gently placed it over his crotch. Before she jerked it away, she was conscious of the hard, throbbing bulge there. "Please, please," he had begged her, but she had turned away, her face hot with anger, not at him, but with herself and her inability to do what she really wanted to; but deep in her mind, her mother's voice still rang out commandingly. "I'm going to be gone some time," Sam said, "Give me something to remember." She shook her head and looked away. She was conscious of Sam moving, and she heard the rustle of fabric. When she had turned back, she saw in the dim light, the white outline of his cock protruding from his fly. His hand was around it, and he was gently massaging it, up and down.

"Sam!" Her voice was tinged with terror.

"Relax," he had said, "It won't bite you." And he had taken her hand again, and this time her fingers felt the naked flesh of his penis, firm and thick and long.

Almost with one movement, she pulled away, opened the car door and stumbled across the grass, her dress tearing on the branch of a tree. She came to a stop at the edge of the beach, and stood there, staring out across the river, her mind whirling, her breasts heaving, and within her loins the incredibly sensation of sexual stimulation like she had never known before. She wanted to go back, to feel his shaft, to close her lips around it, to feel it slide into her. She wanted it, oh, how she wanted it; but she stood there, alone, tears streaming down her cheeks.