Tiger grinned, turning his head quickly to give her a little kiss. He was a careful driver. He kept his grin, looking ahead again, this was one he never had to worry about in any way, shape, or form, or remind, at all, she was so much on the ball. He adored her.
“My coat pocket,” he said, giving her one more peck. “Ummmm—” She said, dipping her hand into his coat pocket, as instructed. She found the little bottle and curled her fingers about it, withdrawing it, finally.
“Enough,” he told her.
“Hold them for me.”
“O.K.—Lovely.”
" You’re so lovely—”
Her head on his shoulder.
“How’s everything?” He murmured.
“You’ll find out—” She told him, snuggling up to him, dropping the bottle back into his pocket, “Aren’t they marvelous—” She murmured, “A marvelous development —” She told him.
“I can tell you,” He told her.
“Yes, you’ll find out,” She murmured.
“I’d like to find out more often—”
“You’re so busy—busy busy—my Tiger—**
“What have you got on?”
“No bra—”
“Lovely—”
“They are lovely—”
“They must feel comfy—”
“They’re waiting for you, Lovely, comfy and lovely, all for vou—let me tell you—” She told him, murmuring.
“tell me—”
“Ummmm—comfy—”
“What are they doing?”
Pretty Maids All in a Row 135 “They’re under my dress, you haven’t seen my dress— it’s a new one—”
“What color?”
“Orange. A dusty orange. They call it.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“You’ll love it.”
“I’ll have a good look at it.”
“Oh you’ll love it.”
“Have a slip on?”
“Pretty one.”
“And they’re under it.”
“They are, Lovely, comfy, waiting for you, just for you, oh you Tiger you my wonderful you Tiger under it—” She said.
“Silkies?”
“Awfully pretty ones—”
“We’re almost there—”
“/ love it there.”
“The view’s great—”
"Isn’t it—”
“Working hard?”
“You gave so much Civics homework—Honey—”
“Don’t you like it?”
“I’ve got a theme to do for Miss Smith—you know Miss Smith, don’t you, Lovely?”
He grinned, at the same time wondering. He couldn’t help wondering. For her intelligence was phenomenal. But he let it ride, for the position was laudable. Laudable. He was lucky.
“When did you first wear a bra?” He asked her.
“Oh—” She murmured.
‘They start at nine nowadays—don’t they? Lovely?”
She laughed softly, “That’s a billion-dollar market, isn’t it, Tiger honey, to be exploited—ask Uncle Brucie—”
“He earns more than the President—doesn’t he?”
“He does—doesn’t he—”
“He ought to run for President—”
“He’d make it—”
“A Reagan-Uncle Brucie ticket—” Tiger chuckled. “They'd make it—”
“You know it.”
She was still laughing softly, near his ear. Her warm sweet breath, in his ear.
“America—’’ she murmured.
“The Beautiful—” He told her.. . .
Tiger turned off the road when he hit the top of the hill and pulled into their favorite hideaway. It was a nook completely screened from the road, over which little traffic passed at this time of night, in any event. Yet, they had a magnificent view of the lights of the entire valley, spread out before them, far below them. It was perfect. Tiger was in a warm, light, frolicking mood now. The height. The night The unique Rochelle. It always did it, and in fact kept him in it for a couple of days afterward, at least. It was his favorite mood. He wished all of life could be journeyed through in that mood. She was a tonic. Just the mere proximity of her. Just now they were nestled in each other’s arms, having just completed their first, marvelous, deeply passionate kiss. It was a kiss and a half, as only she could give. She was caressing his face, neck, and back of his head. She sighed, as only she could sigh. He was quivering within. Gently, adoringly, he brushed her sweet ear with his lips, and caressed her lovely, full breasts, unencumbered by any manner of trappings underneath. He loved caressing them. For a long while, through that new, lovely, dusty-orange dress, he did just that. He found the intoxicating tips. He lingered there, as she arched and moaned, clasping him ever closer to her.
“I could never marry anyone—” She murmured, in her remarkably lovely voice, “My only one—” She went on, “No one—” And on, “Not after you—Darling Tiger you—n She kissed him, “Except you—"
“I’m sorry I’m tied up, Lovely, I really am—” Tiger murmured in a brief moment of disengagement, "I’m crazy about you—”
“Anyway—” she moaned, kissing him, wonderfully.
“How are you?” He said to her, continuing to fondle her breasts, through that exquisite dress.
"My Darling—" She moaned, huskily, clinging to him. Her warm, sweet breath in his face.
“Someday—” He murmured to her, “What a day—” He told her.
"My day—” She whispered to him.
He unbuttoned her dress. She slipped out of it, smoothly.
Pretty Maids AII in a Row 137 “It’s a nice dress,” he told her, laying it down, carefully. “Like it?” she murmured.
“Love it,” he said, “Love your slip—” He also said.
“Yes, that’s nice too—” She said.
“Love it—”
“So glad—you love it—”
“You lovely honey—”
“Oh I love you, Honey—”
His hand was inside her slip, caressing and fondling her breasts. Softly she moaned, seeking his mouth,
“Tiger—"
“Lovely—”
. She was growing warmer and warmer, her hands caressed him, gliding over him. He slipped her breasts out of her slip, which itself was half off her, and slipping ever more. He kissed those superb treasures, all his. She fell back, slowly, onto the ample seat, taking him with her. He kissed her breasts, his mouth closed over the tips, wetting, suckling them. His hands glided over her, caressing her, searching for her—She helped him slip off what remained. Already she had discarded her slip. She was ever warmer, her body burned under his hand, though he was on fire as well, he felt her pounding heart, his own matched it, she moaned and whispered to him, over and over. Her hands found him, she fondled him. ... A long while, he kissed her thighs, her belly, he glided his tongue over her stomach, her belly, her thighs, he smothered them with his kisses, she was more than on fire, he realized. Her knees were rising. She was calling his name, again, and again. His head was between her thighs, he was kissing, gliding, tenderly, he murmured and whispered to her, constantly, she trembled, moving, moaning, near ecstasy at his exquisite caressing—she was ready—waiting—she was trembling— He mounted her, he glided into her trembling body, marvelously, deeply, stroking her tenderly, she pulled him on top of her, she was trembling violently, moaning his name, constantly, they kissed, their tongues intermingling, wonderfully, a long while, he stroked and stroked her, she was a hot river, deep, flowing, ever more opening— They were burning hot, drenched—both of them—