Richard Van Dorne - Ravished wife

He did as she asked and then walked around the apartment, examining everything carefully, curious about the things that she hadn't told him, things that he must learn for himself.

"Like it?" she asked, coming back into the room in a bright red robe. "I've decorated everything myself."

"It's nice," he said, hesitating to say anything more.

Sammy could not help thinking that this was where she had had so many men in her bed, the same bed that he was going to make love to her in.

Sensing that something was wrong Paula walked to him and put both arms around his neck, and drew his whole body to her, at the same time inserting one leg between his. She could feel his tight, muscular thighs and the bulge of his penis, still soft, yet slowly filling with blood, growing with each breath.

He could smell the soft aroma of her hair as she crushed her lips to his. It had been so long since he had had a woman, and never before had he wanted a girl as much as he wanted Paula. He inhaled deeply, then let go of his grip on her. He couldn't help thinking that this was where she did her work, just beyond the bedroom door. There were too many thoughts running through his head each contradicting the other. He wanted to climb into bed with her and make love as wildly as he could, and yet at the same time he couldn't forget all the others, the others who had paid her for screwing her.

"Let's have some coffee," he said suddenly.

Surprised, Paula let go of him and agreed to make some. Her intuition told her that he was being reserved, but she didn't know why. Perhaps, she thought, he's got a sex problem, or maybe he's just afraid. She giggled slightly, thinking how nice it would be if he really were afraid.

"What's funny?" he asked, thinking that she might be laughing at him.

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "You're just sweet, that's all."

Sammy smiled and followed her into the kitchen, watching the graceful movements of her sleek young body as she walked, almost bouncing. She's really somethin', he thought, trying to remember if he had ever made love to a woman as beautiful and sensuous as Paula.

Minutes later she poured hot black coffee from the ceramic pot. "Black?" she asked, turning to face him.

"That's fine," he answered, trying to think of something to say to her, something that would relieve the tension he felt both in his mind and between his thighs.

"Come on," she said, breaking the momentary silence. "I've got to wash all this makeup off, and I don't want to leave you even for a minute."

Sammy obeyed and followed her through the bedroom to the large white bathroom that she had decorated with prints of movie stars. He stood quietly, looking at the prints while she turned the water on in the basin.

"Have a seat," she said gaily, pointing to the toilet with a dramatic gesture.

Sammy grinned and sat down, feeling awkward at being in her bathroom while she was there.

"Those a hobby?" he asked, pointing at the pictures.

"No, not really. I got them on sale, and couldn't think of any other place to put them."

Sammy said nothing as he watched her bend over the washbasin and begin soaping the makeup away from her face. His eyes took careful note of her features, trying to think of someone to compare them to. She was so natural, so free, he thought, suddenly remembering that she wasn't really free. His eyes caught the front of her robe as she bent, exposing her breasts from beneath the open front. They hung gently without a bra, and yet retained their perfect shape, almost staring back at him from the tips of their sensitive pink nipples.

Paula looked up from between her soapy hands and saw him staring at her. She knew that he was watching her breasts, and somehow felt a little embarrassed at having him look at her naked breasts, even though so many men had seen her completely nude, and used her. But she knew that Sammy wouldn't use her like they had. He would make love to her, not just fuck her like the others had.

"How much did you collect this week," she asked, wanting him to talk to her.

"Huh," he said, surprised at the sudden sound of her deep sensuous voice. "Oh, about twenty-five grand."

She whistled.

"Yeah, it's a lot of dough, alright. I wish it were mine instead of Wade's, but that's the story of my life."

"I didn't know it was that much," she said, still amazed by the vastness of the sum. "Just think how much the girls could make by themselves if they didn't have to give him half or more."

It was coming out into the open, Sammy thought as she spoke. If he was going to make love to her, he would have to let it out. He would have to know if this was where she screwed all those men for money.

"I remember," he said softly, "How much you gave me tonight. But, well, how much do you charge everybody."

Realizing now what was bothering him, she answered, leaving enough room for him to continue later. "Well, it all depends. Usually it's a hundred for a short-timer," she said, immediately regretting that she had said short timer so lightly. "Sometimes the prices are higher, like the one Red called me about tonight. But then other times I even go as low as fifty backs if I'm having a slow night."

Sammy could hardly believe his ears. She was talking about it just as if it were a regular business and not prostitution. He felt sparks of anger and the ache of disappointment as he listened. He wanted her so much, but she seemed to be ruining everything.

Still washing her face, Paula waited for Sammy to say something. If they were going to have anything at all between them, she thought, then he would have to understand that she was a prostitute, and nothing else. If he could accept that for the time being, then later on there would be no problems. Please, she thought, say it now, and get it over with.

"How, uh, how many guys do you usually have a night," he finally asked, shrugging his shoulders as if he were ashamed of the question.

"Generally about four," she said quickly.

Now the clincher, she thought. If he can take it, now will be the time.

Sammy's voice cracked, "Do you, I mean, where do you do it?"

"Oh, Sammy," she cried aloud and turned from the basin, putting her arms around him and sitting on his lap. "I couldn't, I just couldn't even think of making love with you in a business bed. No, my Darling, I've never brought anyone else here. This is my home and my refuge, and if you want, it can be yours, too."

Thank God, he thought, completely relieved. He knew suddenly why she had talked so matter-of-factly about her business. She was so natural, so beautiful, and now that he knew this was her own home, she did seem almost free to him.

He pulled her more tightly toward him, feeling her breasts crush in their softness against his chest. Accidentally his elbow pressed against the chrome handle behind him and the room filled with the sound of running water as the toilet flushed beneath them.

Paula began laughing uncontrollably as Sammy's face turned beet red. What a way to start, she thought, laughing almost hysterically. A prostitute and her collection man sitting on the toilet about to make love, it's too much.

Sammy had joined her laughter, his embarrassment easing away. He was holding her so that she wouldn't fall, when suddenly he felt his hand firmly placed over her round smooth breast. He knew that there was no reason to remove it. His fingers luxuriated in the softness, and felt as if they belonged on her round white flesh. He wanted to hold her and protect her against everything in the world outside.

Paula, too, had become aware of the warm hand on her hardening breast. No other hand had touched her like that, she felt, so gently and firm, yet not demanding, not wanting what all the others had wanted. Instead of tensing as she had done with so many other men, she felt herself relaxing at his touch, while at the same time, recognized for the first time in her life, a tingling in her breasts as her nipples quickly filled with warm desire until they were tight and hard, demanding something that she had never felt before, not even with Jed.