Johnny had turned beet-red. His lips opened to deny her chiding accusations, but no sound escaped his mouth.
"Yeah, I know that's what you want, Johnny-luv, all you guys are the same. You just want to jam your big, stiff dicks in my tiny pussy and blast me full of jism."
Sheree shook her head, as if this were the sad state of the world and she understood it fully. They had covered the three blocks from the frostie stand on Main Street to the Sables' two-story Victorian home on Chestnut. Sheree walked slowly up the steps, turning as she reached the porch.
"Oh, well, Johnny, I guess one guy's cock is as good as another," she grinned suddenly. "Why don't you meet me at the show, in the lobby at nine tonight, and we'll see how well you fuck!"
CHAPTER TWO
Sheree stood admiring herself in a mirror of the theater waiting to start her campaign against Johnny Hollister. Sheree was well equipped for the coming battle. Standing a petite five feet tall, with long auburn hair cascading down to her shoulders, Sheree had hips as tight and well rounded as a halved peach.
Carefully examining the outfit which sheathed her frame like a second skin, Sheree was pleased with the effect. The sun had turned her flawless olive skin a golden brown, which sharply contrasted to the bright white of her well-stretched shorts. The golden tan extended everywhere except for the small triangular patches left by her string bikini. She could see the little flashes of white surrounding the dark dots of her red nipples clearly through the sheer fabric of her blouse.
"Just checking out the merchandise one last time, heh, mama?" Johnny Hollister's confident voice came from the lobby doors behind her. "I had to practically beg to get in here tonight," Johnny smiled down at Sheree and put his arm around her shoulder as they started for their seats. "This thing is R-rated. Guess they're afraid we'll see something we're not supposed to see."