Pauline Nottee - Action backstage

"You are a natural born manager," she told him once. "The way you handle all the little things for me… the way you set up everything we have together- half an hour on the phone. Rick, I want you to stick with the agency and take some business courses. Jason Wells likes you, and, if I ask him to, he'll see you get ahead."

"Lady, you're right," the boy admitted. "I'm not talented, except maybe I'm so bad I'm good, like Jack Benny with his fiddle. I will think on what you say."

Actually she had not told the shrewd teenage boy anything he had not known. But, making her say it had put her deeper in his debt. Just as insisting on paying for the guitar had been a master stroke laid upon her eager ass. It amounted to buying the hubcaps and then stealing the car to which they were attached.

Week by week, he drew the unsuspecting dark-haired actress deeper into his intricate web. He even brought her to the point where she would take a hit off a joint after he had fucked her silly, so she barely knew what she was doing. Now he had her accepting his selected friends without question.

The time for nailing Candy Mullender was coming.

Sergeant Vance Dawson was also active in his quiet, thorough way. His Lieutenant's commission had finally come through, and, as he had promised, Tom Stanford, the officer who had set up the surveillance on Rick and the brunette, had made his stripes. Needing a partner, Dawson had brought Stanford partly into the deal. He could trust Stanford-the cop was a cocksman of great determination.

Various segments of the intricate state crime-fighting organization were tapped. The Intelligence Unit of the LAPD bugged the apartment and its phone and also Candy's home phone. Sporadically, Rick and Candy were trailed, either together or separately. Narcs nosed around. One, disguised as a phone repairman, got into the apartment and prowled it. He found one marijuana roach and nothing more-not enough to bother with. The apartment layout was thoroughly scouted and means of making a successful raid were discussed by experts.

In the end, the new Lieutenant Vance Dawson and his sidekick told the experts to go to hell-they would get warrants and hit when they thought the time was ripe. To predictions that they would never get in undetected, Dawson would say only, "We'll get in."

A few days later, events moved forward abruptly. Candy and Rick had their first knock-down, drag out fight. It was on a weekend in spring, and the first bullfights of the season were scheduled in Tijuana. Rick wanted to go. Candy didn't. She thought they were cruel. But she told him to go, knowing it was a colorful spectacle in which some people took great pleasure, and, as long as she was going to have a lover who did, she would have to allow him certain things. She had gone to her house in Woodlands.

And on that Sunday evening, she discovered she'd left a videotape at the apartment, one which she had to have. And she drove there, arriving shortly after 9 p.m.., expecting to find the place vacant.

It was not vacant. Rick and perhaps a dozen friends, all youths, were there. They were smoking pot and drinking and so entranced with watching a pornographic movie that they didn't notice her arrival. Stunned and infuriated, Candy took in the scene. And then a temper she didn't realize she had erupted.

She was wearing her outfit with high-heeled boots, and her first move was to scream in anger and kick the projector so hard it broke into three pieces. Then she hurled a can of film through the screen. Then she threw anything she could get her hands on at any target. She was stopped only when Rick himself tackled her and threw her to the floor, but, even then, she was able to leave the red welts of her nails on his face.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed. "Bullfights, is it? Was that a bull the girl in the movie was sucking? What's the matter? I'm not enough woman for you? You have to look at dirty pictures. Get off me! Get out! All of you!"

She punched him in the nose, making it bleed.

He hit her with the flat of his hand, then the back of his hand, again and again, until blood ran from her mouth.

"The corrida was rained out," she said, fury in his pale face. "When men are together, they will do things they would not do with their women around. If you ever raise your hand to me again, lady, I will kill you! Now, you get out!"

Terrified, Candy realized he meant every word. Abjectly, her face stinging from his brutal slaps, she picked herself up and fled. Her world was ended. Somehow she made it back to Woodlands.

The next day, she went to retrieve whatever she might have left in the hideout apartment. There was little, as Rick had been very efficient at seeing she left no clues to her identity around. She looked at the big foam-rubber bed on which they had given each other so much pleasure, then threw herself on it and wept until her entire body shook.

"He will be back. He is sorry. He had to do what he did."

Candy rubbed her tear-swollen eyes, blinking, until she could recognize Jonie Karson standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She wondered if Rick had sent her to get his things. The Negro girl was stunningly beautiful. Her full, pointed tits, unfettered by a brassiere, showed clearly through a sheer, scoop-necked off-the-shoulder blouse. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in a long afro. She had on short cotton skirt and bikini panties which concealed none of the dark "vee" of her cunt. She wore calf-high boots of leather which matched the brief skirt. Her taut black ass-cheeks clenched as she crossed to the bed and bent over Candy.

"You castrated him in his own house," Jonie said. "A man -and especially a young man thinks a lot of himself as a man- can never allow a woman to do what you did. You are a woman, so you would not understand. Rick realizes this, and he is truly sorry. But he had to do what he did." She was carrying a shoulder bag and drew a packet from it. "He asked me to bring you these. The papers on the truck and the trailer and the horse. And his note to repay all you gave him, as soon as he can."

Candy began to cry again. Brokenly, she said, "I don't want them… I want Rick!"

"Then you must work to get him back. He is proud," the Negro girl said as she sat on the bed and leaned over to stroke Candy's tear-stained face. "You should cry first. Cry it all out, and then you can think. I will stay with you."

Candy felt herself being drawn into the beautiful young girl's arms as Jonie slipped her boots off and lay on the bed. Candy, her eyes streaming, burrowed her face into the soft, warm valley between the Negro girl's dark upthust young tits, feeling their heat and firmness and the firm nipples. Her arms held Jonie close and she let herself go for a long time as Jonie's deft fingers stroked her, sliding lightly over the full curves of tits and hips and ass-cheeks. It did not seem unnatural, only very comforting, and, in time, the utter despair began to melt away in the embrace. Candy Mullender no longer felt alone.

She began to feel serene, even experienced fluttering sensual arousal at Jonie's skilled touch as the girl's fingers danced slowly up the insides of her thighs, brushed over her soft pussy mound and began to make little circles on her belly.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Candy whispered as she gradually regained control. "I-I thought you didn't like me. That maybe Rick had been your man and I took him away. Do-do you know who I am?"

Jonie laughed softly, dark sensuous lips opening to show fine white teeth as she said, "I knew the first minute I saw you, Candy. A wig and some little changes here and there will fool a man but not another woman. And Rick was not mine-Rick is not anybody's. I have never told anyone. Why should I hurt you?"

"You're… you're nice, Jonie," Candy said. "I'm a black chick. Maybe I understand things, but I'm not nice." She laughed softly, without humor. "Candy, we got to hang together against the studs, you dig? Fuck them around before they fuck us around." As if on impulse, she pulled Candy close and kissed her full on the lips, her tongue sliding into Candy's surprised mouth. At first Candy tried to recoil, but it was the first gentle physical contact she'd had in days, and, through her warm moving lips, Jonie seemed to be pouring out the universal troubles of being a woman. Candy found herself responding, moving closer.