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A Vintage Erotic Novel Involving a Sexy and Seductive Girl, Full of Sexual Adventures, Surprises and Twists.
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Man On The Make
CHAPTER ONEDr. Vivian Temple felt as though Eric Bentley had stripped her naked. His pale blue eyes had lingered on the bare swell of her breasts above the neckline of her green gown; his eyes had moved down her flat belly to the base of her torso, where the flare of the gown hid the lines of her body."You're a beautiful woman," Eric whispered.She tried to smile, but her heart was pounding so fast and so hard that she was afraid the smile would become a gasp for air. She looked down at the long-stemmed crystal glass in her hand. A cocktail onion impaled on a toothpick rested on top of a half-melted ice cube. "Just enough left for one more sip," she said without looking up at Eric."Do you want me to ask you?" he questioned.She moved slightly sideways and drained her glass."That's the fourth or fifth martini I've had," she announced, and looked straight at him. He was very close to her, and she could feel his hot breath on her face."You know how much I want you," he said.The urgency in his voice made her tremble."It's what you want too," he went on.She wanted to deny it but couldn't. All her strength was gone. She searched his handsome face for an indication that he would help her and not take advantage of her weakness. His jaw was set, his thin lips bloodless, and his ice-blue eyes relentless. She knew he was determined to possess her.She tried to look beyond his broad shoulders into the dining room, where the other guests were. She could hear their laughter and even the sounds of dance music being ground out of the host's stereo phonograph.Again her eyes sought his."You knew I'd follow you," Eric said.She nodded and whispered, "Please, Eric, let's go back before...." His strong fingers suddenly touched her face. He tilted her lips to meet his.She twisted away but immediately felt sorry for him. Her feeling of regret for having hurt him and her desperate, clawing need to be taken by him commingled within her. "All right, Eric," she said softly; "take me home."This time when his fingers touched her, they slid down the side of her face, brushed her patrician neck, and finally played across the naked tops of her luscious breasts.She closed her eyes and let her senses respond to his deft caress. "Take me home," she said again."Yes," he answered, and kissed her closed eyelids.Eric drove his English-made sports convertible down the West Side Highway in a cavalier fashion. The white fabric top was down, and the wind rushed past them with a whistling sound. Though the night was warm for early spring, Vivian gathered her mink closer and turned up the collar.From time to time she sensed Eric's eyes on her, but she looked straight ahead. She was hardly aware of the black, mirror like surface of the Hudson River on her right or the poetic splendor of the city on her left.She was not concerned about what would happen between herself and Eric when they reached the apartment-she was positive he would be able to satisfy her. Even the fact that she would soon commit adultery had no reality for her. She felt disembodied. She was able to take a good, hard look at herself...* * *She was twenty-eight years old. She held a doctorate in English literature, and her specialty was Chaucer, whom she'd chosen because of his earthiness. For her, his characters in the Canterbury Tales were very much alive. Chaucer had an eye for life and wasn't at all afraid to write what he saw.For twenty-five years her name had been Vivian Summerhill. While on a trip to Europe, directly after she'd received her doctorate, she'd met Professor Steven Temple, chairman of the English department at one of the city's colleges.Vivian found Steven Temple a quiet man with a dry sense of humor. He was one of the few men she'd ever known who looked like what he was. He was tall and sparsely built, with snow-white hair. He wore his tweed sports jacket and slacks very well.She felt comfortable in his presence-he made no demands on her for anything but her companionship, and she was thankful for this. Men her own age frightened her. They all seemed to have a single predominating goal-to use her sex as an end to their pleasure.She'd foolishly permitted herself to stumble down that road once. The experience had been enough to teach her that the primrose path of dalliance had at its end the bitter knowledge of self-defilement. She'd given her lover her virgin body only to discover the man had no capacity for love. His only interest was what was between her naked thighs.When Vivian was a girl, her father had called her Princess. In a memory dimmed by the passing years, she found a great many similarities between her father and Steven Temple. This had been the biggest reason she had agreed to Steven Temple's marriage proposal.She was pleased with Steven' considerateness. From the first time he saw her naked body he had enjoyed looking at it. She often thought the sight of her nude held more meaning for him than the actual sex act. But his need for her as a love partner was not very-great; when they did come together he was unable to muster the endurance necessary to give her a hint of satisfaction.Early in the marriage, to make him happy, she had feigned ecstasy she did not feel. She would have begun to resent him if he had not looked around and realized she had much to be thankful for. As soon as Steven was able, he appointed her as an instructor in the English department. Immersed in her work at the college and accepting her lot with Steven, Vivian lived a contented life.The first disruption occurred at a faculty tea. Steven was aglow because of the coup he'd pulled off-he had hired away from a famous Ivy League college a promising young professor named Eric Bentley. Steven introduced Vivian to Eric, excused himself, and left the two of them looking at each other.Eric's eyes boldly traveled the length of her body before he said one word. When he did speak, he said, "What a waste!"She pretended not to hear him but she knew he was aware of her pretense.That same night Vivian tried to rouse Steven into making love to her. His only response was to tell her that the excitement of the faculty tea had tired him. He promptly turned onto his side and fell asleep. She was left with taut nerves and a need that made her stomach feel like a giant knot. She silently swore never to ask Steven to make love to her again. At the same time she felt the enormous satisfaction of knowing that Eric Bentley would like nothing better than to tumble her in bed.Whenever she and Eric were alone, she baited him with her body. She began to dress so he could not help but notice the fullness of her breasts or the roundness of her buttocks. She even tinted her titian-red hair to give it more than its natural radiance. They began to speak about sex with astonishing frankness. She enjoyed his attentions and wondered how long he would take to suggest that they sleep together.Just before the spring term started Eric came into her office one day while she was alone. Those light blue eyes of his were all over her body. Without a word he came toward her, reached down, and lifted her out of her chair, and suddenly his lips were on hers and his hand was closing over her breast.She let him kiss and fondle her. His assault had been too quick-it made her giddy. She wriggled free and laughingly told him she was not a castle that had to be taken by storm. He must wait for the right time and the right place. Her laughter was infectious, and he laughed too.What Vivian had told Eric served as a verbal agreement between them, which would have meant nothing. But on the first day of the spring term Vivian Temple walked into a required English course, wrote her name on the blackboard, turned around and looked at her "twenty students. Twenty pairs of eyes looked back. One pair out of the twenty was coal black and belonged to a deeply tanned young man. He was not looking at her as the others were-he was frankly appraising her as the male animal examines the female. In his eyes was the blatant question of whether or not she would make a good lay.She turned away from his impudent stare and began to teach. From that instant she hated him. But she also knew her own body would not tolerate the almost chaste existence she was forced to live with her husband...* * *The sound around the speeding car suddenly changed. Vivian looked around. They were in the white-tiled throat of the tunnel.She glanced at Eric, who turned toward her and smiled."We'll soon be home," she said above the roar.Eric nodded and indicated it was difficult for him to hear her. When they came out on the Brooklyn side he slowed down and stopped at the toll booth. A moment later he drove off to the spur that would take them to Atlantic Avenue. A few minutes after that they would be in the apartment, where the living room and the bedroom had a splendid view of the Upper New York Bay. He held the wheel with one hand and with the other reached over to pat Vivian just above the knee. "You were in another world," he said."I truly was," she answered."Was it as good as this one?" He winked.She shrugged and said, "I was putting together the bits and pieces of the past-""Do you feel guilty?" he asked, interrupting her.She laughed. "As yet nothing has been done to feel guilty about."He squeezed her leg and put his hand back on the wheel. "If it would make you feel better," he said, "we'll go to a hotel.""Steven won't be back until Monday night," she said. "You know he went to a conference in Chicago. That was why he asked you to escort me to the party tonight."Once they reached Atlantic Avenue Eric turned left up a side street and a short while later stopped in front of a large, red-brick apartment house. "This is the right time and right place?" he asked."Yes," she whispered. "Yes."* * *Eric unlocked the door, swung it open, and handed the key back to Vivian. As she walked into the darkened apartment, she heard the door being closed behind her. The lock snapped.She went to the huge window in the living room that was high above the Esplanade and framed the upper harbor. She watched the Staten Island ferries pass each other. The loud whir of a helicopter filled the air as the whirlybird dipped and twisted over the bay to land at the downtown heliport. They were the same sounds and sights she'd heard every night for the past three years.She turned away from the window. Eric had been standing quietly behind her. She leaned against the wall near the window. Her mink was half-on and half-off."Would you like me to switch on a light?" Eric asked."No." She saw his shoulders move in a slight shrug. She wondered if he was becoming impatient.But why should he? she thought. Doesn't he know I want and need his body as much as he wants mine?She was very careful not to think the word "need." Need to her had a special meaning. She was starved for sex and therefore needed a man, while Eric wanted her for the sheer pleasure of possessing a beautiful woman.Her mink slipped lower. "The lights," she said, "would only reveal too much of Steven. This was his bachelor apartment before we were married. Except for a few feminine frills I did not change it much.""Vivian!" Eric stepped toward her.She made a slight motion with her hand to stop him. He obeyed the gesture.The mink was trailing on the floor. She looked down at the bare tops of her breasts and the valley between them. "I wore this green gown for you, Eric," she said. "I wanted you to look at me and....""Want you?""Desperately.""Yes. Desperately." _ She finally let the mink glide to the floor. Many times in the past she had seen in her mind's eye how Eric would love her. She closed her eyelids. "The right time and the right place," she whispered, and stretched her arms toward him.She felt his arms close around her and gently ease her body against his own. Eric was a big, broad-shouldered man, with crew-cut blond hair. She reached up to the back of his head with her hands and pushed his head down toward her eager lips.He kissed her softly, nibbling at her lips until they opened. Eagerly she sought the taste of his tongue. He teased the tip of hers and darted away. She followed. His mouth was filled with a delicious warmth.Vivian was so caught up with the wonderful sensations that played on her lips and spilled across her tongue that she could feel nothing else.One of Eric's hands let go of her and moved between them. He placed it on the naked swell of her breasts. She took her lips away from his and looked down at his hand. The touch of it on her bare skin made her quiver. As Eric slid his fingers into the naked valley between her breasts, she leaned slightly forward to make it easy for him to reach his goal.The gown she wore had a built-in-bra consisting of nothing more than two gauze cups supported by plastic wire.Eric's hand closed over one breast, and he rolled one stiffened tip between his fingers. "You're teasing," she chided softly. "Should I stop?"To answer she placed her own hand on his and squeezed hard.Eric put his lips to her ear and let his tongue kiss the lobe. She trembled and ground her body against his. She could feel his manhood through the folds of her gown."Now who's teasing?" he asked.She backed away from him. "I think it would be better," she said, "if we went into the bedroom."Eric took his hand from her breast. Before they started toward the bedroom he kissed her hard on the lips. This time there was pain in the kiss, but the pain was also pleasure.Vivian's senses were keyed up. She felt him lift her gown, and then his hands closed over her round, full buttocks. All that separated his hands from her naked flesh was a flimsy pair of briefs. Holding the cheeks of her rump in his two hands, he violently caressed them. No man had ever done that to her, not even her first lover. One moment she felt as though she were being torn in half, and the very next instant the two cheeks of her rump came together to make her feel as though the lower part of her body were being crushed in a huge machine.This time Eric pulled her to him and, with his hands still pursuing their course on her buttocks, guided her grinding against him."Enough," Vivian said. "It would be a shame to waste it." She drew away and looked to the lower half of his body.A few moments later they were in the bedroom. Eric had slipped off his jacket and flung it over a chair. He opened his tie and pulled it free of the collar; then he went to her.He buried his face in the graceful curve of her patrician neck. She held on to him. He moved lower and kissed the bare tops of her breasts. Still bent over the white swell of her luscious breasts, he looked up at her. Without a word he began to slip her gown off her shoulders."It won't come off that way," she said, smiling down at him. "There's a zipper in the back." She took hold of his hand and guided him to it.The zipper opened with a single swift downward pull.Vivian's gown hung slack, supported only by its loose cling to her bare arms and the natural fullness of her breasts. She wondered if she should slip the top of the gown free of her body. Before she'd decided what to do Eric's two hands took hold of the top of the gown. Though she could not see the light blue of his eyes in the darkness of the room, she saw the hot glow in them. Slowly, he began to push the gown down.She stood very still and watched. More and more of her breasts became visible. The downward flow of the gown stopped just above her hard nipples."I'm teasing myself," Eric said with a small laugh as his hand stroked her bare skin.She took a deep breath and thrust her breasts toward him. Swiftly he pulled the gown down. Her turgid nipples bent with movement of the material as it passed over them; they popped free a moment later. Vivian's breasts were naked. Eric's hands closed over them. The sudden rush of pain into them made her wince. Her breasts were so full that even his large hands could not completely cover them.She stroked his head. She knew from the expression on his face how pleased he was.His hands had relaxed their grip. "They're like full fruits," he said, placing a hand under each one and hefting it as though he were trying to determine its weight.Her nipples jutted provocatively forward. Eric took each full stalk between his fingers as though he were holding the stem of a pen. He drew on them. An exquisite fire burned along the tips of her naked breasts. The heat reflected back into Vivian's breasts and down, deep down into her love tunnel, where her own passion had already begun to throb.She grabbed her naked breast from his caressing finger and pushed it forward, full against Eric's lips. Only when he took it wholly into his mouth did she sigh with pleasure. Expertly he used his tongue, lips, and teeth, going from one to the other and back to the first.Vivian pushed back her head and pulled his face into the deep valley between the naked mounds. With her own hands she pushed her bare breasts against the sides of his face."Strip me," she murmured.The gown slid down the rest of her body with agonizing slowness. Finally it lay in a heap on the floor. She wore thin briefs under it. This time she did not hesitate; she reached out, caught hold of the zipper on Eric's pants, and ripped down, and her hand burrowed inside. The moment she touched him she felt him shudder."Wait a minute," she said, and started to remove her hand.He grabbed her wrist to hold her where she was. "It would be easier if we were both naked," she said.Eric let go of her.She unbuckled his belt and undid the button of his trousers, and he did the rest. He took another moment to free himself of his shirt and underclothes. Naked, he stood before her. She looked down at him, then took his hand and led him to the bed.The cover was already turned down-she'd done that just before he'd called for her earlier in the evening. Vivian flung herself on the bed. She lay on her back and arched her bottom toward Eric. "Take my panties off," she said."I want to look at you," Eric told her.She knew he could see her in the darkness, but he wanted more. "A small light," she said. "That one on the night table."He leaned over and turned the switch. A muted glow spread over a small area, and Vivian's near nakedness was fully revealed.She could see him, too. His body was even whiter than hers. It was sturdy without being muscular. She could see that he was fully aroused. She arched her bottom toward him without saying a word, and he slipped her panties over her hips. When the panties were far enough down her nude legs she kicked them free.
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