If there was one thing that infuriated the egotistical motorcycle enthusiast, it was to have his plans thwarted. All his life as an only child, he had been the first, the favorite, the winner of prizes and scholarships. The good-looking youngster had passed from being the strongest kid on the block to being president of his high school class without encountering any serious obstacles, and by the time he was in his early twenties he'd capitalized on the new motorcycle fad to become richer than most men twice his age. All of this had occurred so smoothly as to make him feel it was his due, and quite naturally Larry Johnson had come to believe by now that there was no reason why he shouldn't continue to have everything handed to him on a silver platter. He certainly wasn't about to take no for an answer from some uptight cunt who obviously wanted to be fucked as badly as he wanted to fuck her!

"There's not a Goddamn thing wrong with me," he snarled rather nastily at the glassy-eyed blonde slouched disconsolately in the chair across from the couch. "But there's sure as hell something wrong with you! How come you're all uptight all of a sudden? You were liking it all right five minutes ago, and you know as well as I do you're dying to get a taste of this in your tight little pussy." He pointed his hardening thickness menacingly at the girl as he spoke, his face a mask of raw lust and his black eyes shooting out sparks of impatient fury.

At her husband's disloyal friend's scathing words, Sandi Smith's flushed pink cheeks blanched greyish-white. What hurt most was his all-too-true assumption that she wanted to make love to him. Waves of self-disgust rose stronger than ever in her throat, and tears of shame welled up in her eyes as her well-meaning efforts to draw her contoured thighs close together only succeeded in increasing rather than eliminating the forbidden sensations surging up from her frustrated vagina to her still crazily churning belly.