Unknown - White slave

Sandy's eyes sparkled. It was a dream come true, but Chris looked puzzled, her face still mirroring her concern over the money and the way her landlord kept stealing peeks down the gaping front of her bathrobe. She yanked it shut tight.

"So what do we have to do?"

"Simple. You go out to dinner with the guys… there will be wives along sometimes," he admitted with a sly smirk. "You impress the guy by ordering in another language… that's always worth a tip, especially from businessmen who are out to impress some client… then you hop a cable car and take 'em to the wharf maybe… out for a couple of drinks, tell 'em about the landmarks of the city – how Golden Gate Park used to be a sand pit, and everything east of Market Street is landfill… you know. Little bits like that. Mostly you just play nice to 'em and they treat you well."

"I don't know," said Chris, biting on her lower lip nervously. "Sounds kinda fishy to me… almost like… like, well, you know." She turned to read the expression on her roommate's face. "What do you think, Sandy?"

Marvel-eyed, Sandy shot a beaming grin at the landlord. "I think it's great! When do we start and how much money will we make? I'll have to get my clothes together for this!"

Roger looked a little perplexed, but at the same time he was relieved. He knew if he could persuade Chris, he'd have it sacked, but she was the cautious one, he noted. "What about you, Chris. How do you feel about it? I know it's not what you expected to do with a college diploma, but it's the best I can offer. Besides, the foreign tourists in San Francisco have a lot of class." He studied her unmoved expression. "Well, I know you'd rather sit in an office for eight hours a day, but…"

"Let me think about it," broke in the blonde haired roommate. "I want to think this over."

Sandy wrinkled up her nose and tugged Chris' bathrobe sleeve, her eyes on Roger as she whispered into Chris' ear: "Come on, it's no big thing. We'd at least be able to eat and get out to see the city." Pulling her bathrobe tight around her, and letting the bath towel unwind with a vigorous shake of her head, Chris stalked off to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. It seemed cheap somehow, going out with a man you'd never seen before. Why, it was the closest thing to prostitution she'd ever imagined herself coming in contact with. She closed her bedroom door behind her.

One room away, Chris could hear Sandy's throaty voice apologizing for her roommate's abrupt response. "Don't pay any attention to her, she's just very upset today," she heard Sandy explain.

Roger returned: "Okay, you girls think it over and come down to my apartment tonight and tell me what you want to do. Remember, I still have two months rent to collect and this letter from the foodstamp office is nothing to scoff at. It's serious business… could cost you both a lot of money and time behind bars if you're not careful. I'm just trying to help you out, is all. I've got my responsibilities too."

Sandy caught his arm before he reached out to open the door. "Just one thing," she said hesitantly. "Does this mean we have to go to bed with the men?" Her eyes sparkled and the landlord read the message loud and clear.

Dropping his hand to the doorknob he rested it there and said, "If you do, it'll earn you a bunch more, that's all I can tell you."

When he left, closing the door behind him, Sandy leaned up against the hardwood door, her eyes smiling for her. No use giving away what you can charge for, she resolved and headed for Chris' bedroom for a long, practical talk with her best friend of four years.

Roger's apartment was on the second floor in the back where his living room window overlooked a small rose garden in the middle of the concrete stone maze of apartment buildings and garages. It was the only apartment with such a view, blessed in its solitudinous location and free of traffic noise. Best of all, it had an exceptionally large living room, good for entertaining and business combined.

Tonight, though, he didn't need the rose garden. Tonight was that certain lucky moment every man dreams of but seldom finds. Christ, what a girl, what a hell of a woman!

"Mmmmm… that's nice, honey, nice and deep," came the hoarse whisper through the darkness. Sandy's levis, blouse and underclothes were strewn haphazardly on the floor beside the couch, and her long trim legs were cocked back at a forty-five degree angle, flattened back hard against her chest, smashing the firmly swelling mounds of her young breasts beneath her own thighs.

Roger was half on his knees and half arched off the sofa, supported on his feet and palms, his long pulsating hard cock buried deep in the dark-haired girl's belly, stretching apart the warm hungry lips of her cunt as he flexed the head of his huge fleshy length far up in her womb.

"Oh, yes, yes," she moaned, "God, you feel so good inside of me!"

He smiled a little to himself and tightened his loins, jerking the heatedly bulging head of his cock deep up inside the hot moistness of her cunt, bringing a grateful moan to her ovalled lips. He flexed the rigidly throbbing thickness again and the young girl gasped in pleasure as the enormous instrument probed the previously untried depths of her cuntal passage, far up inside her belly. Other shrill cries escaped her lips as the powerful landlord began a slow revolving motion with his pelvis and her hotly seeping cuntal cavern gradually became accustomed to this thick invading prick stretching her to the limit. He pushed his pelvis tight against her upturned, wetly-glistening pussy and ground his cock deeply into her, expanding the still-quivering walls until her moistly warm pussy fit his massive cock as though it had been a custom-made glove.

Roger reached past the nakedly writhing body of the black haired girl and yanked at the cords of the draperies, pulling them further apart so that the room was bathed in a fine glow of moonlight over the rose garden that outlined each one of the warm, smoothly gleaming curves. The naked girl's translucent skin glowed like an ivory statue of a Goddess and her softly fleshed breasts were two alabaster mounds, capped with a little brown nipples, hard and throbbing, as Roger thrust his long, hard manhood deep into the hungrily clasping sheath up between her wide-spread legs. Sandy's eyes were closed, her teeth tightly clenched, and her face distorted from the delicious torment of his rigidly thick organ in her eager young cunt.

Afraid to believe his eyes, the landlord ran his sweating palms over the girl's naked flesh, rubbing lewdly the moonshaped firm cheeks of her supple buttocks as his fingers delicately probed the hair-lined cuntal lips tightly clamped around his impaling cock. His fingertip flicked tentatively at her tightly puckered little anus as his hand eased between their sweat-soaked bodies; his finger pressed painfully against the opening, then suddenly popped through the tiny nether ring and wormed deeply up into the soft rubbery flesh inside her rectum. It moved around, expanding the small hole until the palm of his hand lay flattened against her yielding ass-cheeks, his whole middle finger sunk all the way up inside the forbidden little tunnel.

Roger simply couldn't believe his luck. This was just too much for any man! Just an hour ago, he'd been sitting quietly, sipping his bourbon and water, cautiously laying out the details of his plan for those two girls up on the thirteenth floor… and now this! Damn, he'd had his share of women, but never a hot little bitch like this one. Christ, she'd practically torn his pants off trying to get at his cock, licking it, nibbling at it as though it were food and she'd been starving for a week! And now, hell, she was hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July.