As he waited for someone to answer, he felt like running, but his hard-on seemed to anchor him there. He hoped there wouldn't be anyone home and he was ready to leave when he heard footsteps. This was it, and he would have to do his best. The door swung open and he found himself staring at a gorgeous chick.

The first thing he saw was a pair of gigantic tits emerging into the light. They were followed by a beautiful face. The chick was about twenty-five; blond, and a horny guy's perfect wet dream.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi," Jim blurted. "Uh, is… uh, Carl…Carl Schmitt here?"

"Who?" the chick asked with a giggle.

"What?" Jim said as his eyes snapped back up to her eyes from her jugs. "Oh, uhh. Carl Carlheimmer. Uh, is he here?"

"No. You must have the wrong address," she said.

Jim stood there for a few seconds, looking and waiting. He gave her every chance to invite him in for a fuck, but when she didn't, he turned to leave. He tripped on the stair and almost fell on his face before getting away.

His face was burning with a combination of emotions. Well, he'd kept up his part of the plan. She was gorgeous, but it didn't seem to do him any good. He couldn't imagine a chick wanting to fuck Larry, then blowing a chance at him. It was a wound to his young pride.

"Well?" all the guys asked at once when he got back to their lookout.

"She's a real dish," he said. "Big tits, pretty face, the works. But she didn't invite me in or anything."

The guys all sat down on the curb in a line. They asked Jim to describe her over and over.

"Maybe Larry was bullshitting after all," Tom said.

"But Dennis told me, too, and he doesn't lie, Chuck said.

"Well, why don't you go back there and tell her that she fucked a few friends of ours and she should fuck us too," Jim said to Chuck.