“Start pushing,” Jenny called, rubbing his probing rod with the juices
exuding from Linda’s moist cunt. Irritably she shook Linda into consciousness, led her to the bathroom
and went back to question the life savers sitting on the bed having
their first beer of the day. Jim
found the girl less trouble than he expected: She appeared dazed,
though she was still able to manage to call in a pathetically weak
voice for Jenny and Hugh to help her. Hugh was literally a
minute taking his shower, returning dressed in blue trunks and a
flowered shirt open all the way down the front. She had a long
pair of scissors on the dressing table. The tortured girl leaned her blonde head forward on the dashboard of
the convertible, her lithesome young body shaking with sobs, her
stomach muscles contracted in spasms of hurt and humiliation. “In this home, girls go without
pants.”
She went to the hi-fi and repeated the record just played, and the two
girls danced, holding tight to each other’s body, legs thrust hard
against pubic mounds, mouths locked in a long blissful kiss.
