Later, she’d have to talk with him . . . later.
5
Nothing seemed to be going right for little Virgie Green. All her churning teenage sexual desires were being frustrated. The petite blonde with pouting mouth and still budding breasts had endured a bad year.
First she had been virtually raped by a college freshman at a drive-in movie after she had teased him too far, thinking deep kissing would be enough. But in the end he’d pulled her panties down, dragged her onto an old mattress in the back of his station wagon, pried her legs apart and fucked her painfully. Well, not “painfully” after the first minute or two, but the ruthlessly reaming penis hadn’t given her much pleasure either, and for a time she had retreated into herself shyly, not dating, not taking any part in the frantic activities of her senior class in high school where she had formerly been one of the leaders.
Finally her auburn-haired swimming instructor, a statuesque athletic woman of thirty named Miss McCoy — who was a confirmed lesbian — invited Virgie to her little cottage for an after-swim snack. Although she was employed in the physical education department, Arlene McCoy was well on her way to a master’s degree in clinical psychology, and it took her only an hour, plus a lemonade well spiked with vodka Virgie never tasted, to get the full story. Soon she had the teenage blonde writhing in wild abandon in bed. And then it was only a short step to initiating her into returning the pleasure and even being the aggressor. She implanted in the young girl’s mind a firm conviction that men were out to do nothing but exploit women.
And then, Arlene had left for a summer course, and Virgie was without a girl lover. She was afraid to make advances to any of the girls she knew in this comparatively small town.
But she found Sally Sue Bennett irresistible . . . she had to have her, by fair means or foul. And nobody could question her hanging around the pizza parlor and getting into a rap session with Sally Sue — all the teens did it.
She went with Terry Claff the night Sally Sue was picked up by Stan Oakes only out of frustration. It was pleasant, but a mechanical thing, having his hard thrusting cock in her warmly throbbing cunt. It sure wasn’t anything like Miss McCoy’s tongue!
She had driven her father’s station wagon, loaded with stuff cleaned out of the garage, to the pet benefit show just to see Sally Sue. She salivated when the dark haired divorcee perched on the piano with her short dress stretched so high on her smooth legs that the soft hemispheres of her ass-cheeks were exposed, and when Sally Sue moved, the tight little panties she wore stretched and the dark curly hairs that fringed her tight cuntal slit flashed for an instant.
God, how Virgie wanted to taste that cuntal flesh . . . just once!
She had hoped to get Sally Sue aside and maybe get something started. Thinking back, she’d only seen the ravishing Di go with one man. Just as, over reacting, she’d put out for Terry that night. Sally Sue Bennett might feel the same desires as herself, Virgie thought . . . hoped.
And then, damn it, a stinking bird had ruined it all! Terry was obviously taking Sally Sue home — a drugged Sally Sue.
If ever she’d had a chance, this would have been the time.
Well, she could see what went on. She followed the MG and then was frustrated because she could not get a view through the windows of the apartment and had to wait for hours before the damn boy finally left — driving Sally Sue’s sports car.
Virgie followed him home at a discreet distance and watched Terry park the MG in front of his studio apartment and go inside. She waited until she was sure he wouldn’t be leaving and then went home, her young cunt empty and burning. She lay in bed awake for a long time, making feminine plans, discarding one, thinking of another, until she had it all plotted.
She was delighted to hear on the radio the next day that the Sally Sue Show wouldn’t be broadcast live for two days because the girl DJ was undergoing medical treatment. That evening, after finishing her stint at the supermarket handing out samples of various snacks that were being pushed by the chain, Virgie Green returned to the pizza parlor determined to do anything she had to do to reach Sally Sue through Terry. While Virgie Green was only seventeen and looked younger, she was gifted with a quick, analytical mind. She was sure that unaided she would never have a chance with Sally Sue. At this point, she surely couldn’t blackmail her, for she had nothing but suspicions to go on.
Well, then she’d use Terry, even if it meant giving herself to him again. She’d hit him right between the eyes.
As he brought her a bowl of minestrone soup and a meatball sandwich the slender little blonde tauntingly said. “How’s your girlfriend feeling? I thought you might take the night off to comfort her . . . again. Is her wrist better?”
“What the hell!” the tall youth blurted, almost dropping the tray.
“It was almost five hours you consoled Sally Sue — I bet your father would love to know that!”
She read the sudden fear on his face. For Terry knew if his old man got wind of it, there would go the apartment and his independence, and he’d be back intolerably close to his beautiful stepmother — and his sister. What in the hell could the pale haired vixen be up to? Sure, she’d gone with him once but shown no interest in a return bout. He doubted it was jealousy as he managed to say, “What’s the number?”
“You wouldn’t want to talk about it here,” Virgie said. “I’ve got wheels. I’ll pick you up when your shift is done.”
She let him sweat. The adolescent was trembling when he finally left the pizza house and got into the station wagon. Tantalizingly Virgie remained silent as she drove directly to his tiny apartment. Damn, it was nice to see him sweat!
And then, with the door closed and bolted behind them, she made the mistake of overstating her case, claiming to have seen what happened. Terry Claff knew then she was lying, for it would have been physically impossible for anyone to have peered into the window as Virgie Green claimed she had. For one thing, it was far too high for her. For another, the only window happened to open onto the fenced exercise area for the Airdale and cheetah, and he’d turned both animals into it after feeding them, and he doubted little Virgie would have dared to enter the enclosure. All she knew was that he’d spent a long time there. She could, of course, start rumors. The youth decided he must get to the bottom of this.
“You little bitch, you’re lying!” He went on to explain why he was sure of this and concluded, “Why?”
Virgie decided her own best chance lay in a turnabout — maybe she could join forces with Terry. She decided to hit him with the shocking naked truth.
“Because I want the same thing you do — Sally Sue!” the petite blonde admitted calmly. “I’m a lesbian! Now don’t blow your cool, Terry . . . let me finish. You fucked her I know that. Do you think you’ll ever have a chance again? She was doped out of her mind, remember? Even if you did her good, she’d be afraid of the wild scandal and losing her job if it came out, right? So unless you have a lever, you won’t get any more, and you better believe! Now, you can be my lever and I’ll be yours. I’ll lay it on her hard and scare her into bed, and then you can do the same in reverse.”
“You mean share,” responded Terry, who was not slow to catch an idea. The little blonde might be queer, but she could sure think fast. Funny about her being les. The night that they’d gotten together, he’d never have suspected. Instantly he decided to go along, but make Virgie pay a price, sort of put a down payment on the package. “Maybe . . . what do you want to know? And how bad?”
“Everything that happened . . . but nothing made up. It would blow the whole scene to go to her and tell her she did something she didn’t do. That would fuck us both up.” Virgie took a deep breath and said, “I suppose I’ll do anything.”