His obscene words and the additional provocation of strong hands massaging her susceptive breasts drove Jill half-wild with excitement. Her body seemed to have turned into soft clay which he could manipulate in any way he wanted, and this helpless dependency upon the man lying between her legs called up again much of the masochistic erotic arousal she had experienced last night with Dizzy.
"Kiss it," she groaned, the obscene words tumbling of their own accord from between her lips. "Kiss my vagina. It feels goooooodddddd!"
The handsome Dane could taste the redhead's pungent cuntal juices seeping from her wetly throbbing pussy, and he slid his tongue down her hair-lined slit to tease at the warm moist opening to her vaginal depths. For a few seconds Erik let his tongue linger just at the hot quivering mouth of her vagina, then abruptly pushed his searching tongue deep into the heated depths of her secret cuntal flesh. Her pussy was as tight as he'd hoped it would be and the trembling walls of her orally impaled vagina tensed momentarily around his urgent tongue as she called out his name in an ecstatic voice.
"Oh Erik, Erik, Erik! Don't stop… please don't ever stop…!"
"Don't worry, baby," her blond lover hissed back, "I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue till you see fireworks that make Tivoli look like chicken shit!"
For another few minutes the skillful Dane thrust his long tongue deep into her moisture-drenched vagina, savoring the bitter-sweet taste of her cuntal juices as much as a wine connoisseur relishes a rare old bottle of the finest wine. He knew that she was hopelessly aroused now – he could tell by the pungent taste of her secretions and by the urgency of her lips as they ground insistently against the leather sofa beneath her. The experienced man was surprised at the strength of her reaction, for none of the American girls he'd known (and not many of the Scandinavian girls either) had been so quickly and completely aroused as this hot little piece of ass was. She's been frustrated for too long, he surmised. Well, no more! From now on she's going to get all the loving she needs, I'll see to that!
Unrestrained animalistic noises were spewing from Jill's slender throat as Erik continued to torment her ecstatically quivering pussy. He would plunge in with smooth strokes for a short time, and she'd feel a violent orgasm beginning to develop in her loins. Then he'd pull his tongue out for an agonizing instant, wait for a moment, then swipe at her sensitive pussy lips or her erect little clitoris. Finally, at some unexpected point, he'd plunge his searing tongue back into her hungry vagina and the twinges of approaching orgasm would return, stronger and more enticing after each delay. The nakedly writhing young girl was almost screaming now with lustful anticipation as her climax drew nearer, ever nearer.
Then… just as Jill felt her desire-drenched pussy begin their first tentative spasms of her impending orgasm, a loud angry male voice pierced through the room. The young girl froze, her body stiffening in automatic reaction as fright and shame flooded over her.
"What the Hell's going on in here??!!" the voice blared. The naked couple heard the loud slam of the office door and then footsteps approaching the couch where Erik and Jill lay sprawled in the most blatantly obscene of sexual positions. Two pairs of horrified eyes stared in lust-glazed disbelief at the fully clothed figure of an obviously enraged man.
"Lars!" Erik gasped out weakly as he withdrew his mouth from the wetly quivering confines of Jill's heated young cunt. What was the matter with his friend? Surely he had enough sense not to interrupt at a moment like this, and what on earth was he upset about. Then he caught the almost imperceptible wink of his old friend's eye, and he realized he might as well play along. Obviously Jensen had some clever scheme up his sleeve, and in spite of his own frustrated irritation at being interrupted at this particular moment, Erik trusted his friend's judgment. Lars might have ideas that seemed weird at first, but he wouldn't be a millionaire at the age of thirty-four if he didn't possess some sort of unusual intuition.
"Oh no!" Erik exclaimed, playing along by injecting a note of guilt and fright into his voice. "Oh my God… oh no!"
"So it's you, Erik!" Lars roared. "And I thought you were my friend! Don't you realize that I can lose my license when things like this go on on the premises? This is a respectable club, and I'm not going to have all my profits go down the drain because of idiots like you and this little slut!" The club owner was enjoying playing the role of the outraged moralistic businessman. The part was easy – he just thought of what his stepfather, a respectable farmer on Jutland who had mercifully died before learning just what his stepson was up to in the corrupt capital of Denmark, would have said in a situation like this.
"Get dressed quick!" Erik said to Jill, who was staring in mesmerized bewilderment at the shouting man before them. The blond Dane leaped from the leather couch, and began struggling into his clothes, after tossing Jill's pale green dress and underwear at her.
"I'm sorry, Lars," she said in a tone of false contrition. "I guess we got a little carried away."
"I guess you did! And I hope you're sorry! Do you realize that every week-end this place is crawling with state inspectors? What if one of them had happened to walk in here? What then?"
"Yeah, what then? He'd want to join in on the fun and games," Erik wanted to retort, but he thought better of it. Could it be possible that his friend was actually telling the truth? He really wasn't quite sure just what the laws were about clubs like this. "I'm really sorry, Lars…" he began, buckling his belt and glancing worriedly at the young American girl who was struggling into her dress with a dazed expression of abject shame on her flushed face. Damn it all, he thought, I never even gave her the orgasm I promised her! He realized suddenly that he had come to care very deeply for this lovely auburn-haired woman. What had started out as pure lust had grown into something far stronger, something he'd rarely experienced in his nihilistic bachelor existence.
"You better be sorry!" Lars Jensen shouted in simulated rage. "And you – you little whore," he shifted his blazing eyes to the cringing young redhead. "You get the hell out of here before I throw you out! Here's your taxi fare!" he handed her a bill, "Now get moving!" The terrified young girl took the money he thrust into her trembling hand and rushed from the room, not daring even to glance at Erik. In spite of the powerful combination of sexual frustration, hashish and alcohol, her body reacted swiftly and instinctively enough to allow her to dash pell-mell along the corridor and down the stairs. The club manager followed her out the door and yelled at her fleeing body.
"And I want to see you here tomorrow at eight, then I'll decide what to do about you. And if you don't show up you'll be good and sorry, I promise you that!"
The corrupt sex-club owner slammed the door to his office shut, the sound of it reverberating like the voice of doom in Jill's confused mind as she pushed her way out of the crowded building and fell into one of the taxis waiting outside Club 33.
If she could have seen Lars Jensen at that very moment, leaning against the door of his office and laughing till the tears ran down his cheeks, she'd have felt more perplexed than ever.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Well, as you realize, Miss Duncan," the balding older man behind the desk began, "I'd been expecting to see you yesterday at three." He took off his wire-rimmed glasses and wiped them on his handkerchief, an unconscious nervous habit of his, all the while staring at her as if he expected her to provide some explanation.
If he does that again, I'm going to scream, Jill thought. Although she'd not even noticed this mannerism of Professor Jorgensen's in her first meeting with the criminal law expert, the agitated young redhead was so distracted by his every movement today that the excuse she'd come up with to explain her absence fled from her mind. She could only stare at him in confusion as her brain groped for words to explain why she'd not been at her appointment yesterday, and why she'd not showed up today until nearly six o'clock in the evening.