What can a beautiful, still-young woman do when her self-centered husband casts her aside for another less desirable mate simply because the new one has a fortune, and he doesn’t like to work?
In the case of heartbroken Sally Sue Bennett, as related in this light-hearted novel by author Carl Van Marcus, the girl began to carve a career for herself, hiding the deep hurt she felt. Although passionate by nature, she denied herself the pleasure and comfort of a man. Instead, she worked agonizing hours to build the Sally Sue Show. And for comfort and companionship she took in stray animals and birds until she had a private zoo.
Sally Sue knew how to love life, but she was afraid to love, afraid of being hurt again. In this touching novel, she finally yields herself to a young engineer for the small radio station where she works . . . and fails in her search for love and fulfillment.
Then she becomes embroiled with a precocious teenage boy, Terry, who is old beyond his years. Terry callously decides to exploit the lovely Sally Sue’s need for him and forms a strange alliance with a somewhat older girl, a beautiful little blonde, Virgie, who after being brutally raped has turned to lesbianism.
With the use of drugs, the two teenagers manage to bring the emotionally disturbed heroine almost to the point of madness and involve her in carnality she had never thought possible.
Buffeted between her sense of right and wrong and her own desires the lovely young divorcee eventually finds a solution which will shock many readers.
The Lady Disc Jockey
By Carl Van Marcus
Foreword
What can a beautiful, still-young woman do when her self-centered husband casts her aside for another less desirable mate simply because the new one has a fortune, and he doesn’t like to work?
In the case of heartbroken Sally Sue Bennett, as related in this light-hearted novel by author Carl Van Marcus, the girl began to carve a career for herself, hiding the deep hurt she felt. Although passionate by nature, she denied herself the pleasure and comfort of a man. Instead, she worked agonizing hours to build the Sally Sue Show. And for comfort and companionship she took in stray animals and birds until she had a private zoo.
Sally Sue knew how to love life, but she was afraid to love, afraid of being hurt again. In this touching novel, she finally yields herself to a young engineer for the small radio station where she works . . . and fails in her search for love and fulfillment.
Then she becomes embroiled with a precocious teenage boy, Terry, who is old beyond his years. Terry callously decides to exploit the lovely Sally Sue’s need for him and forms a strange alliance with a somewhat older girl, a beautiful little blonde, Virgie, who after being brutally raped has turned to lesbianism.
With the use of drugs, the two teenagers manage to bring the emotionally disturbed heroine almost to the point of madness and involve her in carnality she had never thought possible.
Buffeted between her sense of right and wrong and her own desires the lovely young divorcee eventually finds a solution which will shock many readers.
It is not the intention of the author to shock. He is simply presenting what might be called an involved case history of four passion-torn people who teeter on the brink of irreparable damage to their own souls.
In one respect, Sally Sue’s reprehensible behavior is understandable, for there are few things worse than being deprived of a loved mate when one is not really at fault. There is a natural tendency to form a shell and retreat into it and never come out again.
The Publishers hope that the story of Sally Sue will help many to emerge from their own shells . . . or should we say “hells”?
1
“And that’s it from Johnny Cash for now, all you out there. Let’s look high in the sky and see that Led Zepplin and hear the caarazy sound IT makes . . . like it’ll break your head, bambini. . . lotsa noise comin’ on, like RIGHT NOW AND WIIIIILLD!”
The long limbed girl with dark hair and enticing high breasted body took a deep breath and wished she could say what she really felt into the mike. She wanted to curse it but couldn’t, because it was her only way of making a decent living. She had long ago managed to completely shut off the horrible sounds that came from the records. If idiots out there in the night wanted to listen to such garbage, she was being paid to keep idiots happy. She continued the spiel, which had been written by some advertising type guy.
“This, in case you aren’t tuned in already, is the Sally Sue Bennett show, coming live and direct from the friendliest club in town, Jacques’ Trap! They pour honest booze! Right at the corner of Third and Main. So come on down and live a little, until 4 a.m., and then you can go next door and get revived with a great breakfast at Rosie’s — they never close, and now let’s hear it from the Led Zep!”
Sally Sue released the tuntable, hit switches so she wouldn't have to listen to the terrible sound, spun around in her comfortable swivel chair to Face another mike and console and began to tape a second pitch aimed at the teenagers who would have their transistor radios glued to their ears to hear her sex-laden voice enticing them to drive-ins, malt shops, speed shops and whatever Harold Eaton, owner of the teakettle radio station in the heart of coastal California, could sell time to. She had precisely three minutes and ten seconds to do the tape for — teens, and then had to swing back and put on a fun type rap with customers at the bar, interviewing them off the top of her head, looking for laughs, with a bleep button and five second delay in case they used the wrong words, thinking they were funny.
She knew many people tuned into the Sally Sue Bennett Show in high hopes that she wouldn’t hit the bleep button quick enough and some blue language would go out on the airwaves. It sometimes happened. The raven-haired woman in her late 20’s was resigned to getting at least one nasty letter a month from the Federal Communications Commission threatening to pull her ticket and put her out of work.
She was also resigned to minor indignities, such as being caressed by half-drunk males as she did her chatter thing along the bar and at the booths of the club with a remote mike, but she had developed an instinct which enabled her to evade wandering fingers almost every time. Sally Sue, was repelled by such contact, even though she was honest enough to admit that her body was interesting and knew she’d have to put up with as much or more if she was dealing plates off her arm in a diner and not making half as much money.
Smoothly she reeled off her pitch to the young set as the tape flowed, thinking all the while, that there might be something to Women’s Lib after all — she was the only disc jockey in the country who had to, in effect, do two shows at once through the magic of electronics. And a lot of quick scissoring of her long, shapely legs between a sophisticated Jacque’s Trap night club and the Rosie’s Pizza Parlor across the parking lot. There she would rap with the teens and put them on the air while a long playing tape was spinning and covering time at the bar.
Sometimes she felt like a electronic tennis ball. But it was a living, and she was getting noticed in the industry because the Sally Sue Bennett Show pulled in listeners and pulled beautifully. The part from the cocktail lounge was live and direct; that from the pizza parlor and other sponsors taped. Her husky voice was on the airwaves some 14 hours a day. In time, this could lead to a big network job, but for the moment, Sally Sue had to sell herself, and it was a personal thing.
At least once a week, she visited every sponsor’s place of business, met whatever customers might be there, talked with them, taping the conversations. She collected speeding tickets with an old MGA roadster and a new BMW 750 motorcycle, and used them to paper the walls of her apartment. Sally Sue went about her work with a fury, burying a heartbreak that only she knew about. She supported a collection of animals and birds to ease her loneliness.
A cheetah, a huge Airdale dog, a pigmy owl, a red-tailed hawk, a coral snake, and several cats of uncertain origin. She kept them so well fed they never tried to eat each other.
Sally Sue wrapped the commercial two seconds early according to the chronometer she wore instead of the usual tiny woman’s watch, and saw that the record had just enough grooves to let her get out of her isolation booth and down to the bar to start some conversation with the patrons. She grabbed the traveling mike and went down the stairway, forcing herself to smile at the admiring whistles of the men.
They had good reason to whistle.
She was tall and sleek, with the blue-black hair long on her back. Her breasts were full, lushly ripened and they bounced as she moved. She walked naturally, with the ease of a deer, and with every step her smoothly-rounded taut ass-cheeks jiggled and the limber muscles of her curvaceous thighs flexed. And by the orders of her employer, she had to exploit her magnificent young body, so she wore a microdress that came barely below the rich swell of her hips, and just above the thrusting nipples of her bosom. The dress was tight and thin, so the tiny buds of her nipples were clearly visible. She wore high heels to enhance the length of her slender, magnificent legs. Her hips, sleek as a sea otter’s, swayed as she walked into the cocktail lounge with the transceiver which would put it all on the air.
Well, one more time to get in the crowded elevator like a silly goose and get peopled, Sally Sue told herself as with a bright smile she approached two young men at the bar. To their right was an older man with the look of a lecher, and she knew he would be a problem, but her life was filled with those. If he got really out of line, she could hit the bleep button while the bouncer did his thing, but Sally Sue was aware she had to put up with some indignities in this type of work. The sponsor would not be at all happy to have the sounds of a customer being heaved out of Jacque’s Trap being broadcast live and direct. She could see no others along the bar or at booths who looked good for openers. From her studio Sally Sue had picked this pair because they seemed to be in a happy mood and obviously weren’t drunk. If she could spend a few minutes chatting with them and the talk went out on the lounge’s amplifiers, it would loosen up others and she’d have a shot at more interviews.
“Hi, how’d you like to be on the Sally Sue Show!” she said, squeezing between them, the mike turned on. “Real live radio! And where are you handsome guys from . . . if your wives don’t know you’re out, you can give somebody else’s names, you know?”
“I’d like to be on you!” the older man said in a blurred voice from several feet away.
Sally Sue Bennett had heard the line many times before, and instinctively hit the bleep button just before the You, and with a professional smile pulled a chuckle retort from her bank as she said, “Well, hi! You look just like Cesar Romero, but a lot younger. I have another half hour to do this show . . . and I guess we’re both here for the same thing, really. Aren’t we?”
“You bet, baby,” the older man said eagerly, hardly believing that this tall, raven-haired girl disc jockey would go for him . . . but he wasn’t so old, and in bed with her he could fuck off five pounds a night! And to think he could pull her from two young, handsome studs! Well, there were some who liked older men. “We want the same thing!”
“Great!” Sally Sue said, laughing. “We’ll go out to some other joint and pick up a couple of chicks!"
The lounge exploded in laughter as she slipped away from the middle-aged man and went back to talk with the two younger men. Sally Sue didn’t like to put anyone down, but he’d asked for it.
She found them, as she’d hoped, to be good material. The one to her left, as she moved the traveling mike bounced jokes back at her and seemed to have fine vibes. As he spoke and looked directly into her almost violet eyes, he was writing on the back of a business card which he finally put into her hand without a flicker of an eyelid. Sally Sue read the eyes and knew the young, handsome man wanted her.
Men always wanted her. This one was attractive and she felt a restless stirring in her love-starved loins. It had been so long since she’d had the pure pleasure of a thick rigid penis throbbing up inside her cunt. Wildly she thought that if this one just got up and took her by the hand and led her, she would go to bed with him, open her sleek legs and take him up between her trembling thighs eagerly, and rejoice in the feeling of his warm cockhead slowly sliding deep into her belly, making her sensitive vaginal flesh ripple ahead of it, tickling thousands of nerves with every wonderful stroke. Just the thought of it made her glands begin to work, and in seconds the lips of her wetly pulsating vagina were filling with urgent blood, flexing in eagerness. Sally Sue clenched her thighs tight and tried not to think how it would feel if he reached out and rubbed his outstretched middle finger over her pussy and teased her clitoris. She had been so long without a man that she was sure just a touch would make her orgasm.
She had an incredible obscene urge to thrust out her vaginal mound toward him in invitation.
And at the same time she had to keep up talking, because dead air is murder. She would just have to control her own urges.
But Sally Sue, even as she rapped out the yak-yak, was reading what the man had written on his business card, the front of which said his name was Harold Boothby and that he was a sales rep for a major auto supply firm.
“Back in 2 weeks. Dinner, drinks and whatever?”
Sally Sue found herself nodding acceptance, even knowing what the “whatever” meant. She wished, even as she kept up her mike chatter, that she could level with the guy, tell him she would not go to bed with him because she was afraid of being hurt again, even though she yearned so much for a man. Well, she rationalized, if he does show up, I can tell him then how I am before he spends any money on me . . . all hung up!
Why do men have to be so cruel?
Why had Bob, who was so good in the beginning, dumped her and run off with a fat old bag? Well, the “fat old bag” happened to have millions of dollars, and Bob had never liked working for a living anyway. Through their brief marriage, it was Sally Sue who paid the bills while tall handsome Bob demanded the best steak and artichoke hearts and whatever else was outrageously expensive, talking of the big deals he would make.
Well, he’d made one big deal with a fat old bag, and that was over and done with, Sally Sue was almost happy to support her private zoo rather than her ex-husband. She had a successful radio show, made occasional appearances on television, and these days didn’t know what a bill collector looked like.
But the experience had shattered the lovely, long-legged girl with blue-black hair and pouting mouth that was made for love. Desperately she sought a job to kill time and the eroding loneliness. An orphan, she had been raised in the strict confines of a convent school on charity. Morals had been drilled into her head virtually from birth, and she had never given her body to anyone but the husband who had deserted her.
He’d stayed with her just long enough to show her how much pleasure a man’s long hard penis could give, and then gone away. Sometimes Sally Sue cried and wondered if she should blame herself.
If she had given more of herself, would Bob have stayed?
But she surely couldn’t have given more than her urgently clutching tight young cunt. She was so small there that with all his masculine strength it took him four or five minutes to penetrate the warm moist depths of her body, even though, gasping and whipping around on the bed and thrusting her softly furred mound up to him, she tried to help his thick rampant spear to pierce her tender flesh. She could feel the huge bulbous head of his hotly throbbing cock pushing her tight cuntal canal ahead of’ it, rippling, almost splitting her apart, forcing her resisting pussy flesh open until finally he was buried up inside her belly and his heavy, sperm-laden balls were grinding into her upraised ass-cheeks. Sally Sue wanted to please him, and she held him close, feeling the pulsing ramrod of his cock flexing inside her. It was incredibly good when he would hold still for a few minutes and let her painfully strained cunt relax before he started slowly fucking in and out of her warmly welcoming pussy.
But nine times out of ten, Bob penetrated her without any gentleness or preparation.
The first time had been horrible, a dream destroyed!
Sally Sue had known what a penis was. She had seen pictures of them in books, and she had felt Bob’s rubbing against the soft swelling of her belly and her pubic mound when they became aroused on dates. But she’d never seen one or touched one before her wedding day. The good sisters at the convent had done a fine job of convincing her that was a no-no, and at the same time had stirred her imagination until the young girl longed to find out just what it felt like to have one throbbing up inside her seeping pussy. Some of her friends in the orphanage had devised escape routes, which they would use to meet boyfriends, and later came back to whisper in her ear just what the boys had done, and how groovy it was.
To Sally Sue, their tales sounded both revolting and exciting. She vowed that she would never lie with a man unless she was married to him, and she kept the vow.
Then, on her wedding night, she wondered why she’d bothered.
She found herself treated like a piece of meat thrown to the dogs!
Sally Sue realized Bob liked beautiful things. If they were walking and a classic Rolls-Royce came down the street he would freeze like a statue and watch it out of sight. He would linger at the window of an art gallery gazing at the paintings displayed and comment softly. And if a pretty girl in miniskirt or hotpants passed, he would invariably watch her out of sight. While another woman might have been intensely jealous, Sally Sue never was. Bob was hers, and she was supremely confident she could hold him, and secretly she wanted a man who knew beauty when he saw it.
Their marriage was simple. She had no family at all, and Bob’s people were thousands of miles away. The court clerk and bailiff were their only witnesses. But the limber, beautiful girl had planned carefully for her wedding in advance, no matter how humble it might be Aware of her future husband’s love of beauty and sensuality, she had secretly bought the most daring nightie she could find.
It was gossamer thin, fringed with delicate lace, and in two pieces. The top came barely to her dark-thatched pubic mound, and the bottoms — if they could be called that — were tiny bikini step-ins. The garment was no more concealing than cigarette smoke, but she was sure Bob would like it, and in a small way it would be making up to him for the many times Sally Sue had put him off and left him frustrated during the months of their courtship.
In the lakeside cottage where they were to spend their honeymoon, she shyly urged him to do whatever he had to do in the shower first. While she heard the water running behind the closed door, Sally Sue tried to organize everything for the event she had looked forward to for so long. She had been entranced by the tales of sexual escapades from her girlfriends in the convent, but the sermons of the priest and exhortations of the sisters had so inhibited her over her formative years that she had never even masturbated.
But now she was married. It was no longer sinful to do IT!
And her body had long yearned for a man. She wanted a hard pulsating penis in her young, unblemished cunt with terrible urgency. And she wanted to delight her new husband, even realizing that with no experience, she would have to be an eager student, learning to respond. Well, she would do the best she could!
Sally Sue found herself blushing furiously when her husband came from the shower wearing only a towel around his waist. For unmistakably outlined like a thick upthrust pole was the rigid shaft of his penis. Her eyes went wide and she heard him chuckle lewdly as he caught the direction of her glance.
“It’s all for you, baby,” the tall, handsome young man said as he reached for the knot which held the towel in place. “Want a good look right now?”
“Save it a few minutes!” Sally Sue blurted as she dodged around him and into the tiny bathroom, her face scarlet. The room was moistly warm as she quickly slipped out of her traveling dress and her sheer, lace trimmed brassiere and then bent to slide the matching panties down the smoothly tapering columns of her long legs.
The trembling dark-haired girl rolled her long hair into a bun and pulled a shower cap over it, stepped into the tub and quickly let the gushing water sluice away the perspiration that was a combination of travel and nervousness. As she soaped up between her legs, she could feel the lips of her virginal pussy filling with blood, dilating, becoming incredibly sensitive. Gently laving her aroused vagina with perfumed soap, Sally Sue closed her eyes and tried to think of what it would be like, having the rigid length of Bob’s penis thrust deep into her softly yielding body, and, her smooth belly began to quiver with anticipation. She could hardly wait, yet she was filled with fear. Finally she stepped out and quickly dried herself with a huge, fluffy towel, which she then used to wipe the condensed moisture from the full length mirror. She fluffed her hair and studied the reflection of her naked loveliness. Without false pride, she knew Bob would be pleased by the charms he would finally see and possess, and hoped he’d be glad she had saved herself for this most important of occasions. Her facial features had a faintly Slavic cast, with high cheekbones. Her huge sparkling eyes dominated her face, competing for attention with the rich sensuality of her wide, soft lips which when parted revealed perfect white teeth.
The anticipation she felt hardened the tiny pink nipples in the darker aureola of her breasts, and to Sally Sue it seemed like the firm conical mounds were even bigger than usual. Her waist was tiny in comparison, and then her womanly flesh swelled smoothly into gently rounded hips and taut, heart-shaped ass-cheeks. The dark triangle of pubic hair was just sparse enough to reveal the pulsing lips of her tight little cunt. Her legs were those of a dancer, sleek and long, the muscles rippling with every movement. Sally Sue cupped her ripe young breasts for a moment, thinking how it would be to have Bob’s fingers encompassing their resilient warmth. Would he kiss them lingeringly while arousing her tenderly for their lovemaking? He’d tried to many times during their courtship, but Sally Sue had never permitted it. She had gently but firmly brought a quick halt to his attempts to fondle her, particularly to get his lewdly seeking hand between her legs.
The beautiful black haired girl knew she must have seemed frustratingly frigid, but tonight she would show Bob unmistakably that the truth was just the opposite. She had held him off not because she didn’t love and trust him, but because she didn’t trust herself. She was sure her ripely yearning body would have betrayed her, that she would have yielded her cherished virginity and never be able to look squarely at herself in a mirror again.
Well, that was over now! Now she had the right to. . . to fuck! With a smile of wanton anticipation, she stepped into the gossamer panties of her baby doll nighty, smoothing the wispy fabric over her curvaceous buttocks, then drew the top over her head, and carefully arranged the long mass of her jet hair. Her fingers shook as she opened the door and shyly stepped into the bedroom. She took two steps and froze.
“My gosh!” she gasped.
“It’s all yours, kid!” her new husband said with a lewd grin.
He had turned down the bed and lay face up on the white sheets, spread-eagled, naked. From the thick forest of his pubic hair a tree seemed to be growing! His blood-engorged penis stood straight out, pulsing with his heated desire. The foreskin was drawn downward, exposing the bulbous mushroom shaped head on which a tiny pearl of preseminal fluid glistened. At the base, his scrotal sac was swollen with long-stored semen, his testicles looking to the innocent bride like footballs!
How could something as big as that ever fit into her virgin body? Sally Sue thought in sudden fear. Then she told herself it had to be possible. Wide-eyed and trembling, the young bride made herself approach the bed.
Bob caught her hand and quickly pulled her down so she bounced across his hard muscled body. He crushed her in his arms, and his hot hungry mouth glued itself to her wetly parted lips. She felt the spear of his tongue probing between her teeth, twining with her own, and she surrendered to the rough embrace. This was progressing faster than she’d hoped it would. She’d prayed that Bob would realize her inexperience and make very slow love to her this first time, arouse her gently, bring her to a point of passion which would overcome all her fears. Yet she could understand his urgency . . . she had made him wait so long.
Held in his strong arms, she moaned her surrender and kissed him back, feeling a hand cupping the soft mound of her left breast. She gasped as his long fingers pinched and rolled the tender nipple and sent electric ripples through her entire straining body.
“Jesus what a set of tits!” he mumbled against her mouth. Sally Sue knew she must be blushing, but told herself there was no reason to. This was her husband and she wanted him to be passionate with her, even if his lust made him say crude things. “I want more!”
Sally Sue felt his lewdly groping hand catch the sheer fabric of her nightie. With one swift yank he ripped it completely apart and her naked breasts were crushed against his heaving chest. Her now erect nipples seemed to be on fire, and for an instant she was heartsick. She had spent a week’s pay on the garment, just to be as beautiful as she could for Bob on their wedding night, and it had lasted less than a minute before being savagely torn to shreds. But an instant later, Sally Sue rationalized the coarse act, thinking that the nightie must have served its purpose if it stirred her husband to such an impetuous deed.
“Bob!” She gasped. “Oh, darling . . .”
Then she felt his hand delving down toward her loins, and she knew the tiny panties were going to go the way of the top. She had an instantaneous urge to salvage something! Wriggling in his arms, she grasped the edge of the panties and slithered out of them, her long legs thrashing. Only as they floated to the carpet did she realize that for the first time in her life she was utterly naked in front of a man!
“Aaaaaaaahhhhh!” Sally Sue cried out as she felt his urgently groping fingers slide unimpeded between her splayed legs directly to the dilating lips of her virginal pussy. She writhed at the fleshy contact as his mouth came down hard on her breast, tongue swirling, lips sucking hungrily. She could see it happening in a long mirror beside the bed, their bodies twined and undulating against each other, his hand urgently delving into the softness of her cuntal mouth. Fingers rubbed her clitoris and she found herself responding despite the speed of her impending ravishment. This wasn’t anything like she’d planned, but she didn’t want it to stop! Against the quaking of her defenseless belly she felt the hot rigidity of his inflamed male flesh, and trembled to think that in minutes it would be plundering her virgin cunt!
“Not so quick, darling!” Sally Sue moaned.
“Hell! I’ve let you tease me for almost two years,” he retorted, looking into her face with what seemed almost to be hatred. “I’ve waited long enough, damnit!”
Suddenly the startled bride found herself pinned beneath the lust-driven husband of only a few hours. His hand roughly massaged her vagina as, with a knee, he pried her legs wide apart. Then he was between them, violently yanking her knees up until they pressed cruelly against the sensitive nipples of her soft, resilient breasts. The innocent young brunette groaned, partly in pain, partly in still rising passion. Sally Sue wanted this. . . wanted a man . . . she had waited so long, repressing her body’s needs . . . but why should it be so rough? Why not a gentle, loving introduction to the sex that her yearning body was intended for?
Perhaps, she thought, she had been wrong. She should have allowed Bob more liberties during their courtship; let him kiss and fondle her breasts and caress her secret vaginal flesh . . . and maybe she should have been more bold herself, at least touch his penis with her delicate fingers . . . even pump him to climax, for she knew how he must be hurting. Yet her firm morals had prevailed. It would be marriage or nothing — and now it was marriage and everything! And so quickly!
“Oooooooooohhhhh!” the girl moaned. In the mirror, as she rolled her head from side to side in anticipation, she looked incredibly wanton, her legs splayed wide, her naked ass-cheeks trembling as the hot rubbery head of Bob’s penis began to tease its way through the soft curly hairs that fringed her tight cuntal furrow. She could see her wetly throbbing pussy opening and closing in anticipation. Wrenching her gaze away from the lewd spectacle reflected in the silvered glass, she looked down her naked body, through the upthrust proud mounds of her breasts, and all she could seem to fix her excited gaze on was the immense pulsating penis teasing the portals of her most secret flesh, and the heavy, semen laden balls. She gasped, “Bob! You’re so big! Don’t hurt me!”
“Babe, it always hurts a little the first time,” he said with a lewd grin as he poised himself in a push-up position above her quivering body. “But don’t worry — you’re built for fucking! You’ll know that when you get a cunt full of cock! Now, take my prick in your hand and help me get it in!”
Oh God! the helpless bride thought. She wanted to. Really wanted to . . . but her husband’s vulgar language shocked her and turned her cold. She lay under him without moving, tears forming in her deep eyes. Then she heard him mutter a curse and felt his hand taking her own, guiding it down to the thick-veined shaft of his male flesh and wrapping her nervous fingers around it’s throbbing warmness. Clamping her hand there, he began to move slowly, so she felt the fleshy foreskin rolling back and forth over the bulbous head. She could feel the excited beat of his heart pulsing through the rigid spear and sensed Bob would not wait much longer — he would impale her savagely if she didn’t help him!