Gale Grayson - Door-to-door sex-girl

"Wh-what…"

"Pay me another way!"

"Like what?" she asked. "I can't pay you today… but if you'd give me some… t-time…" She didn't get his pointed hint.

"That two hundred ought to be worth four or five sessions in bed with you!" he snapped, the words cracking out of his mouth in a machine-gun staccato.

Unbelieving, she stared at him for an instant. "You said… in bed…? You mean…?"

"Exactly, Virginia! That's what I said. Four or five sessions of good old-fashioned screwing!"

"N-no! Oh, no! I-I'd never do anything… like that!"

She shrank away from him, back into the comforting softness of the overstuffed couch. "I'm married… and I-I love my husband!" she moaned. "I-I couldn't! I… just couldn't!"

"I'm not talking about love, necessarily. I'm talking about sex – fucking!"

"Get out!" she flared, her face livid with anger now. "Get out of here!" On her feet, facing him defiantly, she went on, "Y-you're trying to treat me like a cheap whore… and I won't be talked to like that!"

Hartman remained in his seat. "All right – either you pay me, or I'll bring suit against you, and I've all the legal help behind me that Eko-Klean can furnish. I'll get my money plus costs. Besides, in the process, your husband will find out that you frittered away almost two hundred dollars!"

Defensively, she cried out, "I-I didn't just fritter it away! I bought a washing machine that I needed desperately!"

"With money that belongs to Eko-Klean!" he spat. "That's stealing! I could call a policeman right now and have you arrested!"

"Oh, G-godddd! Y-you… wouldn't…!"

"No, I wouldn't," he smiled lewdly, his eyes devouring the lush ripeness of her voluptuous young body. "No, I wouldn't do that… if you came across! Now, don't you think that's a fair exchange, after all? Four or five good lays, and I'll forget you owe me that two hundred!"

Virginia sagged back down on the cushions of the couch.

"B-but my husband…?"

"Hell, he'd never find out! I'm not going to tell him, and I know damned well you won't!"

The whole situation had taken a turn she had never anticipated, and her mind was churning with fear and helpless indecision. She was in a hell of a fix! Damned if she did and damned if she didn't!

Talking almost as much to herself as to him, she choked, "How could I… just l-let you do it to m-me? You're a stranger… and to just let you go ahead… and make love to me… it'd be kind of like prostitutes do! Why, it'd really be the same thing… because there's money mixed up in it."

"You can get off that whore kick!" he growled. "You're just feeling sorry for yourself – but make no mistake, I'm going to fuck the ass right off of you!"

His words kept jarring her, and she wished he wouldn't use those four-letter obscenities; even the very idea of what he had suggested was preposterous, yet at the same time there was a salacious tingle to the whole thing, including his forceful use of those words.

Arthur Hartman was going on now: "Maybe what you need is a good stiff drink to help you make up your mind? I don't have much more time to wait around!"

"I-I don't drink… hardly at all, and I-I really don't like the stuff!" she told him.

"It'll loosen you up! You know what they say, 'Candy's dandy but liquor's quicker'!" he guffawed, getting to his feet. "Where is it? That husband of yours must keep some around somewhere?"

"In the dish cupboard above the sink," she told him, "but I don't really care for a drink." She was miserable in the knowledge that she was caught up in a situation from which there was no escape, and it seemed that Arthur Hartman was almost diabolically clever in the way he had trapped her. He must have known, somehow, that I couldn't pay…

Hartman found a half-bottle of bourbon and glasses. He poured himself two ounces neat and added water to Virginia's. Bringing the drinks into the living room, he handed her the glass and said, "Drink up!"

"I don't want it."

"It'll relax you and make you feel better, so drink hearty!" He tossed down half of his uncut whiskey.

Virginia reluctantly sipped from her glass and felt it warm her belly. All his talk of sex had begun to work on her; she was aware of a glowing warmth in her loins; there was also that telltale moisture down there between the petals of her wetly throbbing inner vaginal lips that told of her unwanted arousal.

Resuming his seat opposite her, Hartman lounged back, watching as she sipped steadily, a slight, lewdly appreciative leer on his face, as he went on, "It'll also make you enjoy it more… when I get you on a bed!"

Noisily, she banged her empty glass down on the coffee table between them. She'd made her decision! There just wasn't any possibility that she could go through with it. It's unthinkable! God! I'd never be able to live with myself!

"Mr. Hartman, I'm not going to bed with you, now or ever… so you can get the hell out of my house, r-right now!"

"It's too late, Virginia!" He was calm and unflustered. "You see, I've got a one-track mind and a hard cock, and if I don't get the money then I use my cock in that tight little cunt of yours!"

"Then sue me… or have me thrown in jail!" she flared. "But I won't let you do it to m-me!"

"What you need is another drink. You're being foolish about it all. The scandal of being arrested as a thief and the expense of lawyers and all of that would just about ruin your husband, and that service station of his would go down the drain!" he told her.

"Oh, God. I-I didn't think about that!"

"And he finds out that you can't be trusted!"

He reached over to the bottle of whiskey and poured another double into her glass. "Drink this and you'll make it easier on yourself!"

Virginia's hand swept out for the glass to knock it over, but Arthur moved faster. His hand caught her wrist and held it tightly. "I said drink, damn it!"

Her free hand arced toward his face. He caught that hand too and held her immobile as he moved around the coffee table to sit beside her on the couch.

"Oh, ooohh, you're hurting m-me!"

Holding the glass to her lips, he grated commandingly: "Drink!"

Dominated by his commanding demeanor, held tightly by his strong hands, flooded suddenly with the realization of the complete hopelessness of the position her unthinking fool-hardiness had placed her in, Virginia drank the raw whiskey in huge gulps as he held the glass to her lips. The searing burn of the undiluted bourbon blazed a painful path down her throat, which brought tears to her eyes and a gasp for breath, followed by a fit of uncontrolled coughing.

"God! That's… horrible!" She leaned back against the cushions of the couch weakly.

Hartman released her wrists then, and she slid down dejectedly, sitting back on her tailbone, her skirt riding up the smooth, tapering whiteness of her thighs. She knew he was watching, but she didn't care now. It's… It's going to happen… and I can't do anything to stop him! She felt exactly as a wild animal must feel when the steel jaws of the trap are sprung and snap down painfully on a paw.

"You're really quite a woman, Virginia," Arthur murmured, his hand reaching out to caress her sleek inner thigh just above the knee, feeling the silky smooth warmth of her flesh, as his gently massaging hand moved upward on the creamy white skin.

She had to try one last plea. Her voice was choked and hoarse. "Please…? Mr. Hartman… won't you g-give me a chance to pay you back…?"

"Yeah! You're making the first installment today!" he told her with a lewd grin, as his hand reached the hem of her dress.

Almost imperceptibly, her legs moved involuntarily apart, the feeling of helpless defeat strong in her, and Arthur moved upward with confidence, his exploring fingers scouting the way.