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.I was maybe three-quarters of the way there when she called my name.She was standing in front of the bar when I turned around, and the lime-colored bikini was conspicuous by its absence.Facing me was a vision splendid, bronzed all over and with a lustful, man-eating look in her eyes.She was running her hands slowly, lasciviously over her hips and down her flanks.Her pelvis was thrust forward, and her legs were parted.I watched, fascinated, as the long, tapering fingers came in over her thighs, homing in toward her mound with its covering of fine sherry-blonde hair.They almost reached the slit, then drew back again, still moving sensually in an invitation that couldn’t have been more obvious, rode back up over her flanks to briefly cup her small but fully rounded breasts, lifting them gently so that the hard, swollen tips were thrust toward me.As I stared at her, I could feel the dryness in my throat and a gentle stirring in my loins.“It was just an idle thought,” she said throatily.“I was suddenly curious to see if there was anything that could make you change your mind about leaving.”“Well,”—I cleared my throat—“well, if you put it that way…”My yard was becoming harder.The temptation was there all right, but I was undecided.“Come here, Al,” she whispered.“I want you to make love to me—hard and thorough.You’re just the sort of man I need right now.”I took a tentative step toward her, then stopped.No, no, a voice screamed at me from inside my skull, don’t do it, it’s a trap.I hesitated.The moist, pink lips of her pussy were far enough apart for me to be able to see her clit.As I thought of all the things we could do together, almost feeling her claws dig into my back, my prick twitched in eager anticipation.“How about, it, Al?” she whispered.“Are you changing your mind?”“I guess I just lost my mind,” I muttered, then cleared my throat again, sharply, as with one last, lingering look at that vibrant golden body, I shook my head.“Because I’m still leaving.”It took all the willpower I had right then to turn my back on her and keep on walking.A string of obscenities, including the most damaging slights on my manhood, followed me out into the front hall, and the last I heard as I closed the front door behind me was the sound of breaking glass.Chapter FiveAll the way back to my apartment I reflected on what I had probably missed by not giving the tiger lady the hard, thorough screw she had demanded, and that didn’t do much to steady my nerves.What I needed was a good stiff drink.When I returned to the apartment this was just what I had, then another, and that soothed my nerve ends some, and all that remained of my former turmoil was a small ache in my balls.As I fixed myself still another drink, I began to consider the greater issues at hand.Lavers had been right, I secretly admitted to myself.Every goddamned one of them was lying; and if they all kept building more lies on top of the original lies, it would give me only two choices.I could either hand in my tin and try to find some new line of work, or wind up doing group therapy in some nice, sunny academy.About a half-hour later, I was beginning to feel human again.I fixed myself steak, French fries, and some limp broccoli, then settled down to eat.The French fries had looked perfect; a glistening golden-brown crispness on the outside, soft and floury on the inside.The trouble was, the ketchup-saturated charred steak had temporarily killed off my taste buds, and it wasn’t until I was two-thirds of the way through the French fries that I suddenly realized the oil had been rancid.After the antacid tablets which produced some unnerving reactions inside my outraged stomach, Scotch seemed to be the only answer.I had just made a fresh drink when the doorbell rang.Not caring less who it might be, I staggered out into the front hall, yanked the door open wide, and waited for the world to fall in on me.“Good evening, Lieutenant.” The voice was low-pitched and pleasant.“I hope I’m not disturbing you
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