Nancy turned again and all the men looked at her sensuously jutting mound of Venus and the thick velvet lips of her cunt pressed against the thin band of her panties.
Her eyes almost closed, her nostrils flaring, Nancy undulated in place while her open hands caressed her naked thighs. She crouched a little and let her hips pump obscenely back and forth while her hands slid provocatively up and down her long curving thighs. Her nakedly sweating breasts heaved up and down as she tried to work up enough nerve to remove her last bit of clothing, her flimsy panties.
The problem was solved for her. Hands, unable to contain themselves, reached out of the blackness and caressed her. Nancy jumped and moved back at first, then grinned lasciviously and let the hands do what they wanted. She raised her arms above her head and danced in place as wild hands fluttered like feeding birds all over her body. Brazenly, her breasts were caressed and then kneaded and pinched. Lewd fingers hooked into her panties and tugged at them, pulling them down.
She was suddenly naked!
She threw her head back, exposing her white throat and let her long black hair thrash about as she felt her panties down around her knees. She was stark naked in front of strangers! She felt rough hot hands all over her shapely buttocks while fingers pinched her nipples into a searing, obscenely exciting life. Callused hands probed at her gently rounded mound of Venus and roughly scratched at her downy pubic hair. A shudder of pure lust racked her lovely body as she felt one wild finger probe deeper, caressing her wetly throbbing cuntal lips, pushing them aside and slipping maddeningly back and forth in the lubrication it found there.
Her arms raised high, her head thrown back, Nancy's eyes were wild and wide as she realized fully what she was doing. She was naked and strange men were rapidly caressing her into an obscenely exciting state. Her mind reeled, the room tilted. Someone called out, "Watch it!" and hands were all over her, supporting her now. Tom was still clicking pictures as Nancy looked around with unfocused, uncomprehending eyes. The last thing she saw was Rita pushing to her side with a look of concern on her face.
Then her eyelids fluttered and she passed out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She awoke with a start, with a stifled scream in her throat as she sat up, rigid, wild-eyed. Almost as quickly, she groaned aloud and held her head with both hands and fell back on the bed. One swift glance before pain shot through her head and eyeballs told her she was at home. She fell back with a low moan. At least she was home, in her own bed. She was safe.
Her hangover was monumental. She had never had one before in her whole life and she wondered how she was going to get through the day.
Then events started happening. So much happened so fast that she almost forgot her hammering headache. A new kind of sickness was to overtake her: fear! In a few minutes Nancy was going to feel something not many people care to experience or know: she was going to find out what it was like to be blackmailed.
The door to the bedroom opened and Nancy gasped, pulling the covers up. She sighed with relief as she saw it was Rita. Good old Rita with a cold glass of tomato juice in one hand and a fizzing glass of Bromo Seltzer in the other. Without saying a word, she offered the Bromo to the grateful young wife who took it with trembling hands and gulped it down. Next, she grabbed the tomato juice and gulped. Anything wet tasted good. Rita sat on the edge of the bed and looked down. She seemed different to Nancy; a little woe-be-gone, a little defeated. Nancy assumed she was suffering from a hangover too. Rita looked down at her hands and bit her lip. Tears, like glistening slivers, welled up in her eyes. She looked down at Nancy and whispered, "I'm sorry."
Nancy put a protective hand on her own fevered forehead and nodded. "God, I've never felt so awful in all my life. Rita…" she looked up at her old school friend. "I… I don't remember everything. I… I guess I got kind of out of bind."
Rita brushed her tears away and smiled bravely. "You were just… carried away, that's all."
"I'm so ashamed."
"Don't be."
"Rita," she gripped her friends hand. "Promise me one thing. Promise me you'll never tell Allan. Above all, he mustn't know."
Rita looked away, starting to cry again.
Nancy propped herself up on one elbow, holding the sheet up in front of herself to cover her nudity. "Rita, what's the matter? What did I do? Did I say something awful or did I do something terrible?" She looked around suspiciously. "Say, how did I get here?"
Rita controlled herself. "You passed out, and Tom and I brought you home. You didn't do or say anything. In fact, the owners of the bar were a little worried when you passed out. They were worried about a lawsuit, so they helped us get you dressed, and Tom and I brought you home. I undressed you and got you to bed."
Nancy sank back on the pillow again. "Thank God."
"It's not what you think."
"Huh?"
"It's not what you think," Rita went on in a hard voice. "My life. Tom's. He was a different person when I first met him. Now… it's all different. It's not what you think."
Nancy was feeling too awful to fully comprehend what Rita was trying to tell her. "What do you mean?"
Rita was obviously upset and barely controlling herself. "Tom and me… it's not what it looks like. Tom is drinking too much and… he's different."
"Rita, what are you getting at."
Rita seemed grateful for the chance to talk. For the first time Nancy noticed how hollowed her eyes were and how her hands shook. "Tom found some weaknesses in me. He saw it. We make so much money, but we're always in debt. Tom says you have to spend money in order to make money. He drinks too much… and… well… some of the parties get a little… raw."
Nancy nodded. "Like last night."
Rita shrugged. "Last night was really pretty tame compared to some… parties."
Both girls were silent, looking questioningly at one another. Rita's hands were clenched together in her lap. "You see… Tom knows… well, he knows I like to do certain things. And… well, each client is more important than the last. Tom puts out money to make connections and the clients are getting bigger and bigger and… they want more."
Again, they were silent, looking at one another. Rita tried to manage a smile. "Tom uses me. Uses my body. He's going to use yours."
Nancy sat up in bed, her hangover forgotten. "Rita, do you know what you're saying?"
Tears welling again, Rita could only nod. "I need a drink," she managed to choke. She staggered up from the bed and across the room. At the door she bumped into Tom. He laughed and stepped aside, somewhat unsteady on his feet.
Rita ran from sight, and Nancy checked her covering and sank back into bed. Tom stood by the door with an inevitable drink in his hand, his face red and beefy, a drunken smile on his face. "Knock, knock," he said.
"What's the matter with Rita?" Nancy asked, her voice calm and cool.
Tom sauntered into the room, casually waving a hand, "You know how women are. Probably hung over. Say, speaking of little old hangovers, how's our little old star, huh?" He came to the edge of the bed and grinned down at her.
"Tom, I'm ashamed of what I did."
Drunkenly, he waved a hand. "Don't be. Was great, jus' great." He drank, winking at her and pointing at the glass. "Little old hair-of-the-dog. Have one?"
Nancy groaned and felt her stomach churn. "Tom, would you leave for a moment? I want to get dressed."
"Why?" he leered. "I've seen you. Oh, almost forgot. Got something for you." He casually reached into his jacket pocket and brought out an envelope. He tossed it on the bed. "Little something for you."