...... About to turn on her shower that evening, still high over her twin triumphs this day, Gayle thought she heard the doorbell. She saw that it was close to ten o'clock, the time that Paul was due to arrive. Momentarily abandoning the shower, Gayle pulled on her silk robe and started out of the bathroom. She was filled with anticipation. For days their relationship has misfired. Until now, each of them had been occupied and preoccupied with the needs of others. The others had been repaired. Tonight, unfettered, they would at last be able to fulfill themselves. She could see Brandon entering the living room, and her excitement mounted. She waited for him. They met in the hallway and embraced lovingly. ...... He reached out his arms to take her in them. She backed off. "Get into bed, Paul, and wait for me. I've got to go back in the bathroom to take my shower. It'll just be a jiffy." She turned away. "Wait for me, Paul." "Hungrily. Don't be long." She smiled. "It wont' be long, and it'll be worth it." She saw him stretching out on the bed as she left the room. The shower was wonderful, like a ritual beginning of a new life. Once she'd shut it off, and dried, she busied herself applying cologne to her body; and after that, she dabbed matching perfume behind her ears and in the cleavage between her breasts. ...... She couldn't wait to arouse him, to have him, to love him at last. Hastening to the bed, she swung onto it and dropped down beside him. ......

...... Hunter tried to recall, as vividly as possible, and in fairly accurate detail, what had occurred yesterday evening in his final session with Gayle. ..... She had been sitting on her couch, stark naked, waiting for him to finish undressing. ...... She had admitted, "You did last time. We had penetration." ...... "You'll just have a great time, Chet," Gayle had promised him. "Penetration the way you've always wanted. Male superior position and you engaging in complete intercourse." ...... "What are we waiting for?" Gayle had asked. She was a hot little cookie, ...... Recalling entering her, Hunter swallowed hard and spelled out the details of their coupling. ...... ...... "I want to go to bed with you any time, all the time --" "Then right now's the time." She'd yanked her blouse off, dropped it, and headed for the bedroom. "Follow me, Chet!" ...... At the bed, they were undressed in a half minute flat. For a moment, she gaped at him. "I've been waiting for that one a long, long time, honey." Suzy threw herself on the bed, bouncing, as Hunter fell on top of her. ...... After about five minutes of foreplay, he had had enough, and from the throaty sounds Suzy was making, so had she. Her thighs were apart to receive him, and he was over her. No thought of premature ejaculation or possible failure even crossed his mind. He had entered his surrogate all the way, last night, not once but twice, and maintained his erections and withheld his orgasms for what had seemed to him eternities. ...... His penis was touching her velvety vaginal cleft. Yet, no spasm, no sperm, just the body-hungering desire to enter her, to be one with her. Without hesitation, he plunged into her, deeply into her, feeling only the heat of her body and his own as they locked together in their first coupling. It was the dreamed-of consummation at last, and the greatest high he had ever enjoyed in his entire life. They went on together. Neither was aware of the time. They were only that no premature ejaculation had thwarted their pleasure. When ejaculation did occur, it was at the peak of their enjoyment, and for the first time, it was normal. ......

...... What he saw, instead, through the slit of the doorway, was a fresh and lovely young thing, startlingly lush and beautiful, gowned in some kind of pale green silk robe that indicated her body was a match for her face. ...... Gayle waved him toward the sofa, but Scrafield lingered briefly where he stood, unable to take his eyes from her. The delicacy of her features, the ample curves of her youthful figure, utterly belied what he had read about her in Hunter's erotic journal. This girl resembled a vestal virgin, not the shocking and experienced sex surrogate he had envisioned from Hunter's account. She had tightened her silk robe in front of her, but its soft folds could not hid from Scrafield's stare that she was clad only in a half bra and the tiniest of bikini panties beneath it. "I was about to get dressed. I have ......" He watched while she adjusted a pull-up chair to face him, crossing her shapely legs beneath the silk robe, careful not to let her knees be exposed. ...... When Gayle slumped, her breasts moved, and Scarfield was mesmerized. Her breasts were full, ripe, the best he had seen in years. ...... Scrafield thought, ...... no wonder Hunter ...... was probably hoping for an encore with this lush creature. ...... She started off to her kitchen. Her ass undulated. Scrafield felt the stirring between his legs. This was unseemly, and he tried to ignore his reaction. ...... Through her thin robe, Scrafield could discern the outline of her thighs and the lines of her panties. He tried desperately to concentrate. ...... ...... Scrafield trembled with excitement at her sluttish language. Underneath the virginal facade, she was a hooker through and through, a real piece of ass who had handed it out, for pay, even for free, to dozens and dozens of men. ...... Scrafield opened the door to leave, then looked over his shoulder, and what he saw in the bedroom made him slam the door shut, while he remained inside the living room. He could see her in the bedroom, pulling off her silk robe and throwing it aside. Between her lace half bra and her abbreviated transparent panties, her body was silkier than her robe had been. As she turned to survey herself in a mirror, he had a full front view of her, and even from this distance, he believed he could make out the long dark triangle of pubic hair at the crotch of her panties. Scrafield felt his heart beginning to hammer. He'd had women through the years, many of them, ...... But this sexy slut in the bedroom ... She was the most desirable female he had ever seen. He could not leave. He had to have her. In the end, it would mean nothing at all to her. She'd had a thousand man before. He'd merely be the thousandth and one. Blindly, Scrafield moved nearer to the bedroom. He was inside the bedroom, not many feet from her. She had turned and her back was to him. She was moving toward to a chair to pick up a skirt. ...... He was hypnotized by the dark triangle hardly hidden by her bikini briefs. ...... Gayle swung her hand at him, trying to slap his face. But he caught her by the wrists, bringing her hand down to her sides. He held them tightly against her thighs, breathing against her contorted mouth. "You are a little whore, you know that? You whored with those men Your pimp kept handing you. I can prove it. I can prove you handed it out everyday. Now I'm going to give you a chance to be with a real man who knows how to treat a whore ..." He released her wrists, and before she could fend him off, he had her by the shoulders. He drove her up against the side of the bed and down on it on her back. Desperately, she tried to rise, but he hit her with his fists until she fell back half conscious, moaning. Never taking his eyes off her, he removed his jacket, let down his trousers, and unbuttoned his shorts. His erection, which she eyed with terror, sprang straight out. His fingers fumbled for her bra, ripping at it, tearing it off her body. His big hands went down to the elastic band of her bikini briefs. "Don't ..." she begged him. "Don't, don't ..." She tried to rise and fight him off, but with one fist, he slammed her against the head again and down flat on the bed. She tried to press her thighs together, but it was no use. He had each leg in a powerful grip. She tried to resist, but his uncontrolled strength was too much for her. He'd managed to get her legs wide apart, and for an instant, he savored the length of the dark pubic hair covering her vaginal mound. He had taken his pole of an erection in one hand, ready to direct it into her --

...... Gayle was fitting her key into her front door when Brandon started removing her black sequined sweater and then unzipping her long skirt. ...... Arm in arm, they moved to the side of the bed. Then Brandon lifted her up and lovingly placed her on her back on the bed and lowered himself beside her, very closely, until they were flesh to flesh, bodies contacting each other. ...... He went into her slowly, slowly, deeper and deeper, to the very hilt. It was moist, her vagina, and soft as down, and it engulfed him like a frantic hug. He began moving inside her, back and forth, still slowly. ...... "I -- I hope you don't mind if I'm noisy. I like to let go." "Let go. I will, too." "Ahhh, good, good. Faster, Paul, faster. Not so slow. Faster." He quickened his movements. Downward, upward. He accelerated their coupling faster and faster. "Paul ..." He could hardly hear her, with her head going from side to side on the pillow, and her pelvis rocking to and fro. ...... For minutes, they were lost in each other, totally fused, all sense of time gone. "Oh, Paul ..." "Yes, darling?" "I'm almost there. All I need is --" "Is what?" "-- for you to rub my clit a little harder ... No, not that way ... I didn't mean Your hand. I want Your body to rub my clit when you go in and out ..." "Like this?" He clasped her by each cheek of her buttocks and drew her up against him. Pressing hard together, they caressed each other. "Oh, yes, yes ... That's -- yes -- just right ..." "Just heavenly," he gasped. On and on, clamped tightly together, on and on, both breathing hard. ...... Silence, only heavy breathing, body writhing, and then from deep in her lungs came an outcry, "Don't stop ... More, more, more ... Harder, please harder ..." He was blinded by perspiration, his chest heaving, his arms trembling, as he went berserk inside her. She was holding on desperately, her heart hammering, her skin flushed, her breathing irregular, her nails raking his flesh, as her pelvic mound wrenched upward, "Paul, my God, I'm coming, I'm coming, I --" She screamed out words unclear, and then, panting, she said, "I came." He could not hear her. He was erupting inside her. The eruption continued and continued and then it was spent. "I came," she repeated from far away. "I came, too, my darling," he gasped, "like never before." Gradually disengaging, he fell back on the pillow close to her, his matted hair against her disheveled hair. After a long interval of regaining their equilibrium, she finally turned her head and looked at him. "Hey, where have you been all my life?" Their arms went around each other, and after a little while, they were sound asleep in their embrace.

...... He shifted his head on the pillow to see if Gayle was asleep. Her eyes were closed, and one of her breasts, not covered by the blanket, lay in repose and slightly spread out. ...... Feasting on her gentle profile, the happy memory of last night suffused him. He wondered if she, too, upon awakening, would still feel the sensual aftermath of their lovemaking. ...... Brandon went into her arms, pressing his mouth to hers, and then working his kisses down her neck to her breast, where he circled the nipple with his tongue. ...... She reached down beneath the blanket and put her hand between his legs, taking hold of him. ...... His hand grabbed the top edge of the blanket and stripped it away from her. That moment began their passion ......

AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT Of the numerous sex surrogates who gave me assistance -- there were nine in all, six of them female -- I want to credit two in particular who made this book possible. I want to thank Maureen Sullivan, the best-known and busiest of all female sex therapists, and I want to thank Cecily Green, the articulate training administrator for the International Professional Surrogates Association. These two deserve credit for the accuracy in this novel. One the other hand, they should be held blameless for those few instances when I used author's license to depart somewhat from the facts in order to make a work of fiction possible. -- Irving Wallace