"A kiss is still a kiss!" Lindy sang as she closed the door.
Gerry got it. He held out his hands and sang, "A sigh is just a sigh!"
They both started laughing. "Casablanca's on, wanna watch?" Lindy asked.
"Love to. I don't even have a TV."
They sat on the couch, facing the color television. Gerry looked around. No pictures of the famous Susan on the walls. But the place was expensively furnished. It was quite a change from his shabby fourth-floor walkup. But then, she was Lindy Travis and he was only a dancer.
After about fifteen minutes and some wine, Gerry started leaning against Lindy's shoulder. She didn't move. Then he put his arm on her thigh. She didn't move. He kicked off his shoes, curled his feet upon the couch, and played with her hair. She didn't move.
Finally he reached over and kissed her lightly on her neck. She turned to him and said, "I thought you were a fag!"
"What?" the good-looking, husky boy said.
"You're a dancer!"
"Jesus, you think all dancers are fags?"
She giggled. "All of them in the show are."
"All but one. Me." He put his arm around her and pulled her close. For one moment it flashed through his mind – What am I doing? This is Lindy Travis. I must be nuts! – and then he dismissed it. She was a girl and he was a guy, a very horny guy. And seeing this gal dance every day in her body suit was enough to make him split his dance belt.
"Kiss me," he said, and she turned her head and kissed him. Not hard, not lightly, just right. Then he slid his face down to her neck and started nibbling.
"Gerry, the movie…"
"Fuck the movie," Gerry said as he opened her blouse and found her beautiful young tits. He took one in his lips and sucked on it gently. In a moment Lindy had forgotten about the movie and was sinking under the strong boy's caresses.
"I wanna fuck you so bad," he said softly, licking her ear. They rolled around on the floor for a few minutes, hugging and pressing their bodies to each other, nibbling and kissing. Then he pulled her blouse from her body and opened her pants. He slid his hand down the front and found her cunt easily – and just as easily he slid his middle finger up her.
"Oh, wow," Lindy gasped, moving her ass back and forth to make his finger move inside her hot pussy.
"You're burning up in there," Gerry said, and started tugging on her pants with his other hand. In a moment he had them down over her ass, and then he pulled his finger from her cunt and grabbed her underpants and pulled them down, too. Finally they came off her feet and she lay there on the floor of her apartment, stark naked. She brought her feet up and showed him her cunt, spreading it with her fingers. "That's what you wanted to see, right?" she said lewdly.
"That's right. Now I'll show you what you wanna see." He stood up, took off his shirt, unzipped his pants and took off his socks. He pulled his pants down over his knees and off his feet. He stood there in his shorts. "Pull them down and see what's inside," he said.
Lindy reached up and grabbed the elastic band of his underwear, but he stopped her. "With your teeth, honey," he said gruffly, spreading his legs, planting his arms on his hips.
Lindy blinked and got to her knees. She grabbed his thighs and pressed her breasts against them – the tip of her nipples felt like pins poking against her flesh – and took the band of his undershorts in her teeth and pulled down till his cock fell out and his shorts were down to his feet. Then she knelt up and gasped. His cock was the thickest she'd ever seen, and she had seen a few; her mother's lovers' when she was young and those of the few guys she had fucked in the past two yearn since she had lost her virginity. It was fist-size at the tip and grew even flitter at the base. The slit in the tip was huge, arid his balls were gigantic. It was the thickest dick she'd ever seen.
"Like it?" he asked.
She nodded and grabbed it in her hand, fondling it in front of her face.
"Gets big from all the exercise we dancers get. That's why all the guys like to suck on it."
"Guys?" she asked.
"Sure, those queens in the company have me for lunch. What's a blowjob? A mouth's a mouth."
She didn't answer. She fell back to the floor and spread her legs out. "Okay, you bisexual bastard, fuck me with the cock the boys chew on."
He grinned as he fell to his knees. "Lindy, I only like fucking girls. That's what counts. And I wanna fuck you so bad…"
He was gentle again, himself, the Gerry she knew and liked. He positioned his cock at the opening of her hairy young hole. She held it there, steady, ready. And he pushed down, shoving his enormously thick penis into her cunt all the way up to his heavy balls.
"Far out!" Lindy said, pulling him down to her. She hadn't, been screwed in almost two months and her pussy had been aching for it. What was happening should have surprised her, but it somehow seemed very natural. Guy in the show, she likes him, he comes over and fucks her. They both like it – and maybe Vegas won't be so lonely after all!
Lindy held tightly as he pressed his mouth to hers, holding his cock with her cunt lips, holding his shoulders with her hands. He had a perfectly developed dancer's body, and he was hairy, too, which she liked. She liked men, real men with hair and a cock and balls, men who knew how to fuck!
And this man knew how to fuck. He slammed into her a few times and then rolled over so they were on their sides. She lifted her leg and he reached down and held it up and started screwing his body around so his cock roamed and prodded every inch of her burning pussy. He would shove in and out a few times with great force, then stop and let his dick swim around in the wetness, then start up again. Finally he had her on her knees, on all fours, and he was behind her like a dog, giving it to her from the back. She reached under and felt her pussy lips clasping his dick.
"Fuck me hard, Gerry! Come off in me! Now, please!"
"Lindy, spread your legs farther, yeah, that's it…"
"Pump it hard, please! God! It's incredible! Fuck me with that fat dick!"
"I'm gonna come!" Gerry pumped his cock into her with such force he had to hold her so she wouldn't be knocked down across the room. His flesh slapped against her ass and his balls dangled between his legs. She reached far down and grabbed them and pulled on them.
"That hurts! Harder, harder! Pull on my nuts! I'm shooting!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Lindy screamed, pulling on his heavy throbbing balls. She felt the final thrust into her cunt and then the burning sensation deep inside. She ran her fingers along her cunt lips, over the base of his dick, and felt the cum starting to slide out of her box. She heard him muttering and moaning, telling her how great it had been. She felt the heat from their bodies and looked up to see her cat staring at them, and then closed her eyes.
It had been great. But she hadn't come.
A few hours later, after Casablanca had finished, they lay in bed together. On a whim, Gerry asked, "What do you want to do most in life?"
Lindy didn't have to think about an answer, it was on the tip of her tongue. "To be a bigger star than Mother ever was."
She said it with determination.
CHAPTER THREE
Terry Peerce sat alone in his apartment. He'd spent the day taking his voice lesson, his singing lesson, and a dance class in the afternoon, and had lost himself in a movie at dinner time. He worked hard – harder, he thought, than anyone he knew. Why? He, like Lindy, wanted to become a star.
He looked up from his desk. On the wall there was a picture of David Cassidy, one of Bobby Sherman and three of David Bowie. In the past three years he'd yearned for a style, a certain gimmick that would set him apart from the others, something to get him ahead. He emulated Bobby Sherman at first, but when all the teenybopper girls in the country switched to David Cassidy, so did Terry. And recently the British pop sensation, David Bowie, had hit his brain like a lightning bolt. The wild image, the flaming orange hair, the tight pants with the huge cock showing – it was the style he'd like to have.