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Table of Contents
She brushed peevishly at a lock of black hair on her forehead and corrected her wrist watch to match the four o'clock of the digital clock on her desk. "He's made me sit here in the office all day-for nothing. He could have paid me this morning and given me the rest of Friday off. And he has my car and I'm supposed to meet Susan in front of the bank at five sharp to pick up Bea at the TV station."
For awhile longer, she stared at the grey, October skies and turned back to her desk, grumpily lifting the lid of the box that contained the Halloween costume she would wear under her long coat to the television station and later to the Halloween party held every year by others with offices in the Northwest Empire Building. "He calls himself a Private Dick-I think he's more of a public prick."
Valery lifted the costume from the box, smiled with satisfaction and let it drop back in loose folds. "Bea and Susan and I will be the sexiest goblins and spooks at the party," she mused, thinking of the costumes she had designed and made for herself and two roommates. "One of my creations will be televised tonight when Bea docs the TV weather show," she murmured smugly.
She better keep her legs crossed-or she'll show Seattle-area viewers the panties with the slit in the middle I made for her, Valery laughed silently. Diddle-finger skivvies, I called them. She smiled, then scowled as a flush of heat kindled in her loins.
"And my public prick boss could hit the slit with his eyes closed," she muttered, squirming her rounded bottom on the scat of the chair and staring toward his private office where she could see one of the consoles of his elaborate police radio network receivers. "My present back salary and two raises last year arc tied up in his cops-and-robbers toys," Valery scowled.
Then her attention was drawn to the entry to the offices as she watched a shadowy figure on the other side of the frosted glass with Glen Dane's name and his agency name. She was about to yell at him to get on inside and fork over her back salary and vacation pay.
But the door opened and closed on a man of medium height in a light tan topcoat-and wearing a Santa Claus mask. "Ho, ho, ho," the man rumbled, holding out his arms toward her.
Valery rose slowly, both hands flat on the cleared desk. "Quit this nonsense," Valery frowned. "Besides, you have the wrong holiday character."
"Ho, ho, ho," Glen repeated expansively. "From what's going on in this crazy city, there may be Christmas for someone today."
Valery turned to face him as he circled the desk, took her roughly in his arms and kissed her, carefully avoiding her gnashing teeth as she tried to nip his swizzling tongue.
"I don't want your spit-smacks," she sputtered at him. "Where's my money? And my car keys? I bet you didn't leave my car at the garage for a tune-up so it'll be ready for me to start my vacation."
"Mercenary and crazy little hussy," Glen sighed with mock resignation. "This is no time of year to take a vacation."
"Bea and Susan and I arc going to a place down in Oregon and do some skiing and resting and lying about on a little hidden beach I know."
"Hope all three of you get first degree rain burns," he said grumpily. "Val, why don't you marry me and have all of the good things of life-instead of just part of them part of the time."
"Hah," she snorted, leaning back in his arms and peering at his eyes glistening behind the Santa Claus mask. "Instead of working full-time for my pay some of the time, I'd be working twice as hard for nothing."
He let one arm drop, kept the other around hcr shoulders. "I delivered lour bottles of good booze to the auditorium for tonight's party, but I brought this pint of Black Velvet for just us."
"It's four-eighteen," Valery pointed out defensively, "and I have to meet Susan."
"Weeeellll," he sighed, "I have a present for you in my left pants pocket."
"Oh! My money," Valery squealed. "Better be all of it-three weeks of pay and two weeks for my vacation." And she turned to stab her right hand into the pocket. "Eeeckkk," she squeaked, trying desperately to extract her hand as soon as her fingers identified his puffing peter and dangling gonads.
She was conscious of a deep blush pinking her cheeks as she wrenched her hand about to get it out of the pocket he had apparently cut away. "What-kind-of-present do you call that?"
Glen applied pressure against her forearm and kept her hand trapped in his pocket. "That's just a start," he said with exaggerated seriousness. "That's my candy cane and sack of delicious nuts. Oh, the cane is filled with marshmallow and taffy."
"You crazy loon," she panted, finally yanking her hand out of the pocket opening. She stared at his laughing eyes and began chuckling. She faced him defiantly, cheeks flaming. "You can't be serious-everyone knows Mr. and Mrs. Claus never had any children because he has popcorn balls."
She watched his eyes blink rapidly as his mind searched for a retort. "Pre-popped popcorn," she nodded. "The tutti-fruiti in his fruit basket all shriveled up."
"My oranges are prime-ripe," Glen said defensively. "Lots of seed...." he drifted to silence.
"Oh, fudge," Valery felt the blush receding-but the surge of warmth seemed to palpitate between her legs.
She stiffened as Glen moved in close to her, tilted her face upward, kissed her again and rubbed his genitals against her hip suggestively. "I do wish you would marry me. I want to make you a moral woman."
"I am not all that bad," Valery said quickly. "I don't now and never have stripped, jumped into bed, flung my feet in the air and waved my pussy invitingly at any and every man I see. Just you-Glen Dane, and you know it."
"Sure, Baby, sure," he said, pushing the Santa Claus mask atop his closely cropped dark brown hair. "That wasn't a nice joke. Here's your capitalistic gains."
Valery grabbed the sealed envelope. "Better be every darned dollar and cent here." She counted slowly. "No deductions? You just rounded off what you owed me-and paid the taxes? Seven-hundred dollars?"
"Sure, Honey. From me to you for Christmas."
"This is Halloween, you zany-brain," she frowned. And blew him a kiss as he started toward his own office where he turned on various radio switches.
"I want to eavesdrop on the cops," he called. "Bring that pint and make us a couple of whiskey and waters."
Valery mixed drinks in the little bath off his office. She handed him a glass and perched beside him on the outer rim of his desk. "You said something about someone may have Christmas today. What did you mean."
She kicked at him with her left foot as he slid a hand up under her skirt to feel her smooth thigh. "Cut that out."
"I was down at the cops, just visiting old buddies," Glen smacked his lips as he tasted his drink. "There was a heavy explosion out in University Heights at one o'clock-on the dot. There was another big blast right out in the middle of Lake Washington at exactly one-thirty-o'clock," he mused.
For the moment, his fingers stopped trying to dip between her closed thighs and Valery peered at him questioningly, brushing that errant tress of hair back from her forehead.
She fought for possession of her right hand as he took her wrist and tried to push her hand into the "pocket" where his peter and companions lurked prominently along his left pants leg. "Stop this," she breathed. "There's more-I can tell by your eyelid tic."
He lit a cigarette and rubbed his chin. "Yeah. Upset the cops and they forgot to even chase me out."
"Well?" Valery prodded, crossing her legs, foiling his fingers, trapping them momentarily as they groped toward the base of her Vee.
"A note was delivered by a cab driver at two o'clock," Glen murmured, leaning toward the radio speakers sitting atop radio consoles as a taciturn voice apparently answered a police authority in the field, "The A.U. just left Washington First so we arc Code Green."
"Apparently, the police are playing that note for real," Glen grunted.
"What note? And what was that about?" Valery scowled.
"The 'A.U.' is Armored Unit and it left the Washington First National Bank. Code Green means it picked up the five-hundred-thousand dollars."
"The which, what, what, what...?" Valery sputtered.
"The note described the two explosions," Glen explained slowly, wrinkle-thoughts in his forehead. "Let's have another drink."
Valery shoved his hand from under her skirt and scurried to fix refills. "Keep talking. You know, Washington First is where Susan works."
"Uuummm," he hummed. "And that note said three more bombs were set in the Seattle area-two of them in critical places. And the writer of the note demanded five-hundred-thousand dollars for disclosure of their location so they could be unarmed. The note gave times for the next three bombs."
"When?" Valery felt shaky. "I'm scared. Maybe I've heard and read too many stories about bombs. They could blow up the good old Northwest Empire Building."
"The next bomb was for four o'clock," Glen said solemnly.
"My gosh! That was thirty minutes ago!" Valery yelped.
"Yep," Glen nodded. "And one of the police transmitters atop a mountain cast of here emitted its last 'ten-four'. She blew almost all the way out of King County."
Valery felt almost too shaky to ask the next question. "When are the other two supposed to go boom-boom? You got a hangnail and you're going to pull a thread in my panties-and these arc brand new." And she slapped at his exploring hand.
"Seven o'clock tonight," Glen replied. "Two bombs hidden somewhere in this city."
"I wish I had never left Salem," Valery said petulantly, letting him kiss her, not responding, not resisting the confident hand inside her suit jacket against her breast.
"You wouldn't have met me, then," Glen said, chiding her.
"I might still have my virginity then," she retorted, a hand trying to impede his fingers as they worked at the pearl buttons of her white linen blouse.
"Oh, Honey, your blood runs too hot for you to have kept your precious cherry wrapped up in your velvety little fruit box this long," he murmured, nuzzling her right ear.
"Pshaw-bah, humbug," she snapped. "Damn you, you popped a button off my blouse-and ic's almost new. I was only twenty then," she gulped, fighting a catching gasp in her voice as his fingers wiggled inside her blouse and played teasingly across the ivory crown of a firm boobie.
"Like I said, you couldn't have made it for a whole six years. You would have got yourself popped sometime along the line."
"Obscene character," she swallowed, body writhing as he pinched a nipple and brought it to tingling tautness. "The cops are going to pay the money?"
"They have it ready," he answered, his mouth capturing hers as she sighed raggedly and turned on the desk to half-face him, her fleshly yearnings starting to surrender to his. "Not a private dick," she mumbled, "public prick.
"How could they get the money so fast?" she asked, mind still half-concerned with what he had told her, the other hall beginning to focus hotly on the hand inside her bra, his growing hard-on against her right thigh, her knees fanning wide. Yon need one more hand, she thought, squirming as the thick outer labia of her pussy started to itch and burn.
"Give me a piece and I'll tell you about it," Glen said.
"I'll give you nothing," Valery protested, an arm curling around his neck and she opened her mouth wide so he could french-kiss his tongue inside to joust with hers. "Darn, I heard something tear in my bra, Glen!
"You're going to make me all sex-smelly. And if I find some other guy tonight who looks interesting, he might get turned off if he smells the smell of another prick."
"Hush," Glen grunted. "The airlines and the insurance companies have built a cash pool up to a million dollars. It is held ready for such blackmail emergencies."
"Why do you say airlines?" Valery cooed, arching her back to thrust her left tittie into his hand.
"Because the airlines arc putting up part of the fund. And how else could blackmailers skip easy? Besides, airplane hijackers have been the only ones so far who have demanded such huge sums of money. The airlines can't afford to lose a plane like a DC9 or a Jumbo. And the insurance companies can't afford the payoff for such a plane and the lives of passengers-if any are injured or killed."
His hand slipped out of her bodice and skidded up under her dress, between her parted legs to the double-ply netting of her panties. "Do we have time?" she panted.
"I do. Do you?" Glen chuckled, hooking a finger inside her panties to play with her thick pussy lips.
"I-I-I can take time-if you don't fuck around and we cum right away. A last, hot juicy quickie?" He blew his breath on her tits. "I'm gonna smell ucky," she pouted.
Valery hugged his neck as he lifted her and carried her to the leather sofa against one wall. As he. started to lay her out on her back, she squirmed. "No, no, not with my clothes on. I have to take them off and put on that silly costume any way. And I don't want your pecker juice leaking into my panties like that one time when that kid's dog followed me all the way from the bus stop, sniffing up my skirt."
She handed him the coat and he flung it toward the desk as she finished unbuttoning the blouse, shrugged out of it. She patted his cheek lovingly as he bent his head to blow his hot breath down the deep divide between her two bulging breast mounds.
"No wonder something tore in your bra," he murmured, slipping the three hooks between her shoulder blades, "the baskets are too small for such heady wine jugs."
She turned her back so he could unbutton the waist of her skirt and skid the zipper. She fumbled her hands behind her to undo his belt, unhook his pants and part the zipper. "I think it's better this way-I get terrified of horrible sights."
Valery shivered with delicious desire as he pushed her skirt down and rolled her silken panties down her long, tapering thighs. "You're gonna brand me," she sighed as he moved in against her and wedged his upright cock in the deep crevice of her butt.
Keeping his prick in her crack, he lowered his head over her right shoulder and she lifted her titties against his face. "I like my boobies breathed on and licked and my tittie-lips kissed and licked and sucked."
Passion built in her from faint rumblings to a thundering storm as heat waves flashed through her tummy. "I'm gonna-I'm gonna cream," she bubbled, enthusiasm for his prick in her rising to a drumming need.
Valery laid her hands over his as he began stroking her, from her sloping, jutting titties, down her tummy to the coarse mesh of hair growing wildly over the parapet protecting her cunny galley.
"Better lay me out and pitch" the prick to me," she suggested heatedly. "We don't have too much time for this wonderful by-play."
She slid her feet apart so he could let his big hard-on duck between her legs, the heavy barrel riding back and forth in the crack of her ass and the lower part of her pussy smile.
"Jesus Christ," she moaned, fumbling for the head of his pistoning prick, trying to stuff it into her vulva so she could capture it with her coiling cuntal channel. "Stop this tormenting and give me a fast fuck."
She looked down between the twin peaks of her bosom and watched, enchanted, as the pinkish knob of his cock appeared below her hair-lined snatch, then disappeared, reappeared again. "Give it to me," she grated tersely, trying to bend over in his arms so he could come at her from behind and bury his massive prick in her pussy-or her asshole.
"Give me a blow-job first," he said gruffly., tone pleading.
"How many times have I told you, Glen, I won't suck your cock. It's enough I let you cornhole me when you get a carnal itch. Even when I like your cock in my pussy best."
With his hands on her shoulders, he guided her to the couch and steadied her as she stretched out, on her back, one foot up over the back, the other positioned against the taut cheek of her butt, knees wide to create a deep, wide saddle for him.
"Gorgeous body," Glen admired, fingers teasing up and down the insides of her creamy thighs. "And heaven's above," he praised, fingers tracing hotly into the Vee of her spread legs, just touching the passion-puffed outer lips.
"Spread my cunt flaps and get on me and shove it in," Valery gurgled, voice deep and urgent.
She reached for him, put her hands on his shoulders. Her neck was bent at a slightly uncomfortable angle, but she wanted to sec as much as she could, down there between her legs. "I always get a minor jolly watching the head of your prick swab in my gash," she murmured. "Aaaiiii-eeeee-wonderrrrful," she panted as his slick-skinned bulb slid back and forth in her deep-pink sex furrow.
"Don't mess around too long and cum and squirt your jizz all over my belly and get my hair all gummy," she cautioned. "Aim it and hit me in the hole, Glen!"
She tensed as he rotated his hips, jockeying his spear to position outside her vagina. "Yiii-goddamn," she gasped as he touched her firmly with the hot tip of his lance. "That's on target," she hulled. Her feet kicked slightly as he bored into her, his cock-head popping inside her seething cauldron. "Wwwooowwwweeee," she gulped and snorted as he hunched his hips and drove his cock up her cunt two or three inches. "Hump ii to me hard," she begged.
Valery wanted to crush her inner thighs against his flanks as if that would lighten her hole around his post, but that would narrow the Vee access to her fun-cave-and she wanted every inch of prick he possessed. "Pump and shove it to me," she demanded. "I think I'm about to go out of my mind, Glen. Pound the prick to me. Pleeeaaa-ssseeee?"
She loved his neck with both hands as he clenched his hands on her big boobies and snaked his prick into her with a mighty thrust that seemed to expand all her insides. "Let it soak a second, just a minute, before you start fucking it to me in your big, long manly strokes."
She didn't need to concentrate on contracting her sphincters because they were already gripping at the shaft of his dick in a milking rhythm. "You fuck me so wonderfully," she urged him on as he began sliding and gliding his cock in and out of her lava-glazed cunt.
"Reach under my ass and work a finger into my asshole," she wheedled, "and give me a rectal and a cuntal cum at the same time. I like both my holes stuffed full at the same time, Honey."
Valery's features contorted briefly as his big stink-finger stabbed her asshole and sent a quick pain flickering through her bowels. "Yeeaa-aahhhh," she growled. "That's good, now fuck me fast and deep and make me climax. I love your big cock smashing into my twat like this. Nail me to the couch with your big sex-spike. Go, go, go! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
She half-closed her eyes, wishing she could have her head down there to watch his prick pistoning into her pussy, pulling the lips around it, in and out of her body-It was such a comfortable, secure, serene feeling, his massive prick pumping in and out of her pussy, seemingly cramming her fun-hole with pound after pound of hard, hot male-meat.
I'm gonna smell like hot cock and cunt, she mused. But I don't care. Dully, she remembered a remark she had made earlier. Yes? What if she did meet another man and he interested her? Would she be inclined to let him sprawl her out and hunch his strange cock into her? Would the fact he could smell her and know that she had been socked full of cock earlier stop him?
"Uuuummmm! Come on, Glen, sock the cock to me! I'm gonna cum! Screw your finger around in my hot, tight little asshole and really fuck me into heaven! Aaaaaiiiieeeee-yes! That's it! Plug my jug full of cock-cork and bring me off! Riiigggghhhhtttt now, Glen! Hurry! Cum! Fuck me fast and deep!
"Waa-waaa-waaaaaa! I'm exploding inside. Whoops, I'm cuuuummmming!" And she almost swooned as he stabbed his shaft deep, his big balls plopping against her up-curved ass and shot his steaming jizz into her cunt in spasming gushes.
Her erotic shaking had subsided by the time she picked up Susan Egan at the curb outside the bank where she worked. "Something weird is going on," Susan said, slamming the door of the station wagon. "Cops and guards came to the bank and picked up a lot of money this afternoon.
"You're late, Val-you and Glen tear off a little piece as a vacation present? Any way, we'll just make it in time to watch Bea do the weather show at five-twenty-five."
Valery was about to tell her what Glen had told her about the money and the note and the explosions-but there would be time for the three of them to discuss it as they packed for their vacation. And, really, there wasn't much packing to do. Most of their things were already stored in the travel trailer parked at the curb outside their apartment building. Just hook on and go, Bea had said earlier in the week.
"Trick or treat," one of the TV stage hands said as they walked into the big studio decorated in a Halloween motif. His eyes behind his mask ogled and leered as he appraised a lot of bare skin exposed by their scanty costumes.
Bea Marsh, long, red hair combed out and hanging almost to the flare of her hips, was standing before a map of the Northwest, a blackboard pointer held loosely in both hands.
She waved when she recognized the pair. The cap she wore was a cat mask that covered the upper part of her face. The halter was scanty, just barely cupping and containing her voluptuous breasts. And there was a large expanse of sleek midriff before the bikini bottom began. Bea shook her fanny and the short tail swished impishly.
"Woof! Woof!" a cameraman motioned for her to standby.
"Sure would like to tree that pussy-cat and gnaw off a hunk of her tail," one of the many men in Halloween masks and costumes muttered. Bea flawlessly examined the weather scene, ending with a smiling admonition for motorists to be extra careful that evening because a lot of little ghosts and goblins would be darting back and forth across streets that would probably be slick with rain by dark.
As she swayed across the studio, off the set, she slapped playfully at hands reaching for her jutting cones and bikini-accented crotch. When a floor manager grabbed her tail, she whirled, raised her fingers like claws. "Meeeooorrrwwww!" she snarled, hissing and growling. "I'll scratch your eyes out and claw your balls off," she spat with mock venom.
Bea brought her coat from a closet and moved close to Valery and Susan. ""Won't be a party here this year-someone already partied too much-got drunk and told off one of the brass and the party was canceled. Val, let's go back to your building."
They paid little attention to a man in a devil's costume who strode along with them to the underground parking lot. They nodded and smiled as he held the door for Susan and Bea. But smiles turned to expressions of fright as he shoved Bea inside roughly, climbed into the backseat of the station wagon and aimed a pistol at Valery's head.
"Drive toward the International Airport," he snapped. "I'll tell you where to go."
He steered them to a dingy motel, near enough to the airport the three young women could see and hear planes taking off and landing. "Inside," he snarled before they could survey their surroundings.
Two men, also masked, opened the door of the motel unit. "I thought you were only going to bring the Weather Gal," one of them said warily.
"Oh, she had friends-two beautiful friends," the man in the devil costume grinned. He motioned with the gun to one of his companions. "Call the cops and just tip them that the weather girl from the TV station has been grabbed. And hang up."
The three girls exchanged frightened glances as a man in black with white bones simulating a skeleton stripped off their coats. "Very choice Halloween morsels," he chuckled. "A pussy," he tweaked one of Bea's titties. "I don't know what you would call these two," he canted his head to study Valery and Susan. "Sexy spooks, I guess." He sniffed, leaned close to Valery. "This one smells like someone already got her primed for goblin."
The first man, wearing an ankle-length black cape with a collar that flared upward from the neck and a snug hood with horns, asked, "You sure the cops will connect this with the blasts?"
The third man, wearing a flowing black robe with a sash and a Ku Klux Klan hood, nodded. "They'll make it-at least they will consider a possible connection." He glanced at his watch. "They should have the note now telling them where to bring the money. We have half an hour-if we leave here at six-thirty."
"Are you going to tell them where the other two bombs are?" the Devil asked.
The Male Witch nodded. "We'll board the plane-like we planned, take it over and radio the control tower to have the money sent aboard. That would be about a quarter to seven. As soon as the plane lifts from the runway, we'll radio them where to find the two bombs. And these three gals will help add to the confusion and give the cops added headaches as they try to tail us."
The Devil gouged a finger into Bea's exposed belly button. "What do we do now? Just wait?"
"Hell," the Male Witch said with relish and appropriateness, winking at the Devil, "I think we have time to play a few pranks." He grabbed Valery's arm and tugged her toward a back bedroom. "Pick your treats and give them a trick."
"No! No, no, no! God, no!" Valery heard Bea and Susan begging as the Male Witch slammed the bedroom door behind them.
The squeals of protest in the outer room seemed muted to Valery as her mind whirled and spun, trying to cope with the bizarreness of her situation. It was all so peculiar, everything happening so fast, fright hadn't built yet. But reality started to come home fast as she watched the man in the flowing robe pull off his laceless boots. There was only the hint of a leer on his lips behind the hood as he half-turned, hoisted the hem of the robe and removed his pants and shorts. "Baby," he laughed brittlely, "I'm going to cast a real spell over you-just as soon as I can get at the old magic wand."