Pam

I remember the first time I saw her. It was a Saturday in November - point of fact it was Neil Young's birthday. One of my best friends, Brian, was such a serious fan that every year he'd host Neil's Birthday Bash, at which the entire discography - Buffalo Springfield, Crazy Horse, CSN&Y, weird soundtracks for Jim Jarmusch films...everything - would be played in chronological order. Neil was, acording to Brian, invited each year but had thus far failed to show. There was always a big crowd, a wide variety of people and the party would last the better part of two days. Neil has made a lot of records.

Deja Vu had just hit the turntable (that's right, all vinyl until the Gold Anniversary Edition) when she walked in with her friends. It wasn't that they were all drop dead gorgeous or anything like that...they were very attractive, well dressed, Ivory Girl-lookin' smiles and nice hair...and there were four of them.

I was standing at the far end of the entrance hall, wedged in the doorway to the kitchen, when the front door opened. A beautiful blonde head peeked through, as if to confirm she was at the right address, then turned back and spoke as the door swung in. The blonde stepped inside and moved just to the left as another girl, also very pretty with jet black hair, followed her through the door and stepped to the right. Two more girls behind them. I wondered where the inevitable boyfriends were. Four pretty, young women at an "All Neil, All The Time" party? Seemed unlikely...I love Neil, but they ain't playin' Rust Never Sleeps in the clubs for a reason.

The final two girls were partially hidden from me as they all began removing their coats. It's interesting to watch someone take their first bearings in a strange place - it's very telling. Do they immediately begin introducing themselves to strangers? Do they shrink back into a corner, watching and waiting for a known face? I caught a glimpse of the third girl. One of them said something and she laughed as she doffed her coat. Long, thick red hair and sparkling green eyes...some Celtic sweetness with a contagious laugh.

As they hung their coats, I saw her. Dark, dark brown hair, with almond eyes and a big smile. Something quiet and mischievous in her eyes - it was her comment that set Red giggling. The eyes. I can't even tell you what she was wearing. I recall perfectly what the other girl's were wearing - can close my eyes and see them come through that door like I'm watching a videotape. But all I remember clearly of my first glimpse of her is her eyes and her smile. The way she smiled at me when she saw me looking at her...which is exactly what happened. I saw her and was hypnotized. She noticed me staring and smiled. The three other girls followed her eyes...there I stood, at the end of the hall, unblinking. The three of them burst out laughing and pulled the smile off into the living room. Well done. First impression, take two? Damn.

There were a lot of people at the party and I didn't see her or her friends again for awhile. Brian had a pool table in his basement, so I went to see about scaring up a game. When I got downstairs some guy with more money than talent had just won his second game of nine-ball and was yammering through his scotch that he'd play anyone in the house for twenty dollars a rack. One of the nice things about Brian's parties is the sheer number of strangers. This guy didn't know who was in the house.

I decided to watch for a few minutes, grabbed a beer from the cooler and quietly leaned against the wall. Nodded to another fellow I recognized from the downtown somewhere...couldn't remember exactly who he was...just as the loudmouth fluked the nine to win again, whining that there wasn't anyone willing to play for money. Then the guy I didn't recognize pointed at me and said, "You play him."

As soon as he spoke, I recognized him. He had stood and watched me shoot pool one night in a seedy little club downtown. I won five race-to-seven matches at $50 per, at one point running five consecutive racks while he watched. Afterwards he bought me a beer and complimented my game.

Growing up around snooker tables tends to raise the level of one's game a bit above that of the average bar player. Not that I'm a pro...it's just very likely that I'm better than you are. I didn't want to get into a money game with a drunk at my friends party, so I just shook my head. But then two things happened. The first was that he began a muttered, drunken tirade almost on par with something you'd expect out of Mike Tyson.

"Buncha fuckin' pussies...nobody man enough to put a few dollars up against me on a game of pool. Sad ass party...no fuckin' women...Neil Young SUCKS!"

Now, it's one thing to be a drunken asshole. It's another thing to insult Neil Young. It's yet another thing to insult Neil on his birthday, at a party given in his honour, while Deja Vu is playing. I mean...talk about bad form! That was one thing he did.

The other thing that happened was I spotted those four beautiful young girls. And SHE was looking right at the asshole. And she wasn't smiling. Having had the pleasure of seeing her smile and now witnessing her not smile, I realized that I was exceedingly displeased with anyone who would make her stop smiling. So I asked the asshole how much he wanted to play for.

"How much you got?" He grinned.

"Name your price, pal, it's your table. If your stakes are too steep, I ain't playing."

"Well, how about $20 a rack? I don't wanna take ALL your money."

I pulled a cue off the wall and began racking the balls. "Lemme let you in on a little secret. The reason I don't want to play for more money is because you shouldn't be playing me for money at all. You aren't good enough. And I'll tell you something else, too...I would have walked away and not bothered with this at all, but you made her...," I pointed over at the my unsmiling beauty, "...stop smiling. For that crime, you're gonna have to part with some cash."

He positioned the cue ball for his break. "Is that so? I'll play you for whatever you want, big man," he goaded me.

"Your break," I replied. "Don't miss."

I walked over and introduced myself to her. Pam. Pamela. She was smiling again.

"Are you really playing him because I stopped smiling?" Pam asked.

"I doubt he's going to take losing very well, so I needed a good reason."

Mr. Personality had made a ball on the break, but missed his shot. I looked at the table and congratulated him on the break - nothing frozen, nothing on the rails. Eight shots later, he was down $20, racking the balls and muttering about how, "... anyone could have run that table out."

Pam whispered, "Nice shooting," and touched me on the arm as I took a swig from my beer. She was still smiling.

"So long as you keep smiling, I'll keep knocking balls in the holes."

My break. I made two balls, but it was going to be a very difficult table to play. Three balls had jammed up together...the one, eight and nine...leaving no way to make the one-ball. Now, when you have absolutely no reasonable shot, it's interesting to consider what will happen if you just wail the hell out of it. If you know your angles, you can predict where the balls are likely to go. Looking at this little mess it appeared to me that if I hit it good and hard, the nine-ball would be thrown two rails...pretty damn close to a kiss off the seven-ball and into the side pocket. A natural. A damn complicated natural...most folks would never look for it, much less see it.

You don't have to call your shots in the game of nine-ball, but Mr. Personality was already down $20 and drunk, so I figured I'd mention it. "Nine, two rails off the seven." When balls are frozen like that, there's not much you can do except hit them hard or easy, but I didn't want to appear too cavalier about it. I feathered the shot, struck it...nine-ball, two rails, off the seven. Minus $40, and racking the balls again.

Pam was wide-eyed. "That was an amazing shot!" she exclaimed, "You're really good at this game!"

"Actually, that was nothing more than a fluke I could see coming," I admitted, "but you're right, I am good at this game." I laughed and Pam touched me on the arm again. I was beginning to hope Mr. Personality had a lot of money.

Pam and I were making small talk: What are you studying, who do you know at the party, where are you from...that sort of thing. Mr. Personality was itchy to get on with it, so he hollered across the table, "Come on! I haven't got all day to wait for you to get lucky again!"

"Excuse me one moment," I smiled at Pam, "I'll be right back."

I walked to the table and took my time positioning the cue ball - just a couple of inches from the side rail at the baulk line. Solid contact on the one-ball...ideally the one goes in the opposite side pocket, the nine maybe finds a corner, white hangs in the middle of the table so you have a shot. The break shot sounded like a lightning bolt. As the balls caromed around the table the yellow stripes rolled slowly toward the corner and dropped.

"That's $60," I said, "Rack 'em."

I walked back over to Pam. "Sorry to have been gone so long."

She looked me straight in the eye and smiled. I was hypnotized again. She started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked

She just looked over my shoulder and then down. I turned to see her three friends, the redhead mimicking me for the other two, here eyes wide open and unblinking...rocking back and forth on her heels like a zombie. The other two were laughing, even harder when they saw me watching.

"They've been teasing me about you ever since we got here," Pam whispered.

"Sorry about that. But you must be used to men staring at you. You're really quite breathtaking."

"They're teasing me because I didn't give you my Ice Queen look and ignore you."

"HEY!" Mr. Personality was apparently lonely. "Are you gonna talk or shoot pool?"

"You're in an awful hurry to part with money I haven't even seen yet, buddy...are you sure you can afford to gamble like this?" Nothing shuts up a sore loser faster than asking him to prove he can afford to cover his loses. Now he has to actually pull out some cash and wave it around in order to get me to keep playing. He threw a $100 bill on the table.

"More of that's mine than yours," I said, "is that all you've got?"

He threw another hundred on the table. "And there's more where that came from," he sputtered arrogantly.

I smiled. "You won't need any more than that. $200 is my going rate for lessons. When you've lost that, you're done."

"Shut up and break," he snarled, "we'll see who gets whose money."

And we did. Three racks and one double-or-nothing wager later, Mr. Personality was two hundred dollars poorer and hopefully more respectful of the talent that is Neil Young. Pam's smile was back, too and beyond my wildest hopes, focused in my direction.

"So...show me the Ice Queen look," I grinned at Pam, as I grabbed us each another drink, "and what do I have to do to deserve it?"

Pam laughed. "The Ice Queen look is reserved for men who stare at us like we're rotating on a spit and they haven't eaten in a week. It's one thing to be looked at...all women like to be noticed...but it's another thing to have a total stranger stare at you like a piece of meat. When that happens, I usually just look right back, like I wouldn't use him to scrape off my shoe, and then walk away."

"Is that how I was looking at you...like you were a piece of meat?"

"No," Pam smiled again. Ahhh, that smile. "There was something different about the way you looked at me. You looked at me like...like you had never even seen a woman before. I didn't feel threatened or objectified at all...I felt...flattered and...I don't know how really...but just...pretty."

"Well, I fooled you," I leaned in close and lowered my voice, "I was totally undressing you with my eyes and thinking to myself, 'Now THERE is one hot little hunk of love.'"

Pam burst out laughing. She knew better. "Actually," she said, "that's exactly what Alison and Megan have been calling you since we got here. Over and over again, 'Pam...where's your big hunk of love?' They're so used to me not giving guys a chance, when they saw me smile at you they were shocked."

"So why did you smile at me? My skill as a pool hustler was still a secret...I was just standing there looking like an idiot."

"Why are you asking why?" Pam leaned into me, "Some questions don't have answers."

Lady has a point, I thought. Whatever her reason for smiling at me, might it always be so.

Pam and I sat and talked for the next three hours...about everything. School, politics, music, relationships, jobs, family, home towns...the conversation flowed easily. She looked me in the eye the whole time. There was not a single uncomfortable silence, not one awkward moment. It was like spending time with an old and dear friend I'd only just met.

We finished our drinks, the last of many, and Pam asked if I felt like getting something to eat. I was starving and two hundred dollars richer, so I told her that dinner was on me. We grabbed our coats and without saying a word to anyone walked out into the crisp night air. Rather than hail a cab, we decided to walk. It was one of those clear, late autumn nights. You could see your breath, but it wasn't too cold. As we walked, she slipped her hand into my coat pocket and laced her fingers through mine.

Pam leaned into me, playfully shoving me offstride, "What made you stare at me like that when we came into the party?"

How do you answer a question like that? I opted for the truth...heck...might work. "I don't want to sound like I'm trying to flatter you, which would be fine, I'm really just telling you what I thought at the time. When you and your friends walked in I thought, 'There's a group of pretty girls...wonder where their boyfriends are?' But when I saw you, I stopped thinking entirely. I just...sort of...froze. I mean...I'm sure guys tell you how beautiful you are...but what got me was your eyes. I was almost hypnotized. I think I even knew that I was staring like an idiot...I just couldn't stop."

I felt Pam squeeze my hand inside my pocket. "You can look at me like that anytime."

We walked quietly through the streets, talking about nothing in particular until we were in front of one of the ritzier hotels in the city.

"Since the meal's on Mr. Personality," I said, "I don't think we ought to let him skimp on some cheap, greasy diner food. I think it's only fitting, after his coarse behaviour this evening, that his money be well spent in a more refined setting than his sort is likely to appreciate, much less be permitted entry."

We went in. Unfortunately, ritzy hotels are not generally in the business of operating their finer dining establishments at freakish hours of the night. The restaurant was closed. I was disappointed and made a mildly sarcastic comment about starving hotel guests, to which the desk clerk snootily replied that twenty-four hour room service was available to the hotel guests.

"Coffee and donuts?" I asked.

"No, Sir," he dripped, "the full menu is available to our guests after hours. Just not to the public."

"Why didn't you say so? We'll take a room and a menu. Do you accept cash?"

Pam burst out laughing. "You're not going to get a room just to eat!"

"Sure I am. I want something to eat from that restaurant. Only way we get it is to rent a room, so I'm renting a room. Mr. Personality is not getting off without having his money utterly squandered!"

Desk Clerk was nonplussed at this display of extravagence. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we have nothing available at the moment."

Sometimes you get something in your mind and you can't let it go. It would have been an easy thing to simply say, "Okay," and walk away, but I seemed to be in a mood for jousting. Neil's birthday always brings out the best in people.

I put my palms on the counter and looked straight at Desk Clerk. "You have nothing available?"

"Booked full, Sir."

His tone was enough to inspire momentary fantasies that would make Sam Peckinpah nauseous, but who needs to be cleaning up that sort of mess on Neil's birthday?

I spoke slowly and very quietly.

"If the manager of this hotel walked in here right now and told you that he needed a room, would HE get a room?"

"Well, of course, Sir. He's the manager."

"It's 3:30 in the morning, buddy...the manager ain't coming. I'll take HIS room."

I put the two hundred on the counter and waited. The desk clerk looked at me, looked at the money and then reached for a key. He asked if there was anything else, so I asked for a menu. With that in hand, Pam and I strolled over to the elevators.

"That was interesting." Pam grinned. "'He's not coming, I'll take his room.'...do you always get what you want?"

"Not always," I replied, "but if you try sometimes, you just might find...you get what you need, oh yeah..."

We sang along to the Rolling Stones as the elevator doors closed. The last thing I saw was the look on the face of the clerk. He looked certain that in a matter of moments, for some as yet unknown reason, our neighbours would be calling him to complain. But it was too late for that, now - we had the key and his fate was no longer within his own control..

I've never been in hotel room I thought was worth the money they charged for it. This one was no exception. Hotel's are hotel's. Unless you're in the high roller suite in Vegas, they're all pretty much the same. Couple of double beds, big colour television...one nice feature, though, was a separate huge bathtub and shower stall, all marble.

While I scanned the menu, Pam flipped on the television and began scanning around the channels. She sort of coughed and yelped when she found the pay-per-view porno previews. They trailers didn't show much, but Pam was watching.

"Call up and order one if you want, Pam," I laughed. You look like you've never seen a porn film before."

"I haven't," Pam said, "ever. Alison took one from her boyfriend's place once and we were going to watch it, but then they had this huge fight and she pulled the tape out of the cassette before we ever did."

"Well, here's your chance, doll," I laughed, "If you wanna watch a porno movie, fill your boots."

There was that mischievous look in her eye again. She took it almost as a dare.

"What would you think of me if I ordered up a porno movie. I'm already in a hotel room with you and we just met tonight. How did you get me up here anyway?"

"Food," I groaned, "I enticed you up here with offers of food."

Pam reached for the phone. "I'm ordering a movie!"

"Not before I order food!" I dove for the phone and snatched it out of her reach.

A few minutes later we were waiting for pan fried scallops in white wine sauce, strawberries and cream and a chilled bottle of champagne. Pam was flipping through the porno trailers trying to appear discerning in her selection. I began to tease her.

"That one looks like a gloomy period piece...probably has subtitles....That one was panned by all the critics for having a shallow plot....I think that one was nominated for the Palm D'or at Cannes....That one won a Grammy for the wahwah-pedal guitar soundtrack: chuka woka chuka woka...."

Pam was laughing out loud. "You pick one!" She tossed the remote to me.

"Me? You're the one who wants to watch porno! I'm here for the scallops!"

Pam slid up next to me on the bed and sprawled across the mattress. "Do you watch porno?"

"I've seen a few. Bachelor parties, you know."

"Sure..." the sarcasm just dripping, "...bachelor parties. Wouldn't rent one yourself. Perfectly fine for other people. I bet you have a collection at home!" She was grinning at me with those eyes again.

I picked up the remote and began flipping through the selections. "Got it...got it...need it...got it...got it...need it...need it...."

Pam fell apart. We both laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. It wasn't really that funny, but sometimes something just catches you. Every time we'd stop laughing, one of us would say either, "Got it," or, "Need it," and we'd be gone again into fits of laughter. We were still giggling when the knock came on the door.

We froze and looked at each other like two deer in the headlights. Caught! We burst out laughing again.

"It's the food!" I ran to the door. It was the waiter with our food, sure enough, and the snooty desk clerk advising me that he had received two complaints about non-stop laughter coming from our room.

I told him that all was under control. "Nothing is more certain to prevent giggling than scallops in white wine sauce!" I was thoroughly enjoying myself. "And of course you know that strawberries and cream will completely suppress any further mirth in this room. Shellfish...just the thing. Thanks so much for stopping by."

Slipping $10 into the waiter's hand, I mumbled a few more words of nonsense and pushed the door closed.

"There, now that the servants have returned to their quarters, let's eat!"

Snooty desk clerks and non-soundproofed rooms are a real drawback, but whoever was in that kitchen had a truly mystical relationship with mollusks. I don't know much about four-star and five-star and I wouldn't know Paul Prudhomme if he bit me, but the scallops were fantastic. We didn't take much time to appreciate the chef's effort beyond little shared looks of psychic agreement each time we popped another one into our mouth.

I opened the champagne and filled two flutes, passing one to Pam. "Here's to nine-ball, scallops, Neil Young and great company. Thank you, Pam. I'm having a great time."

We touched glasses.

"I should thank you," Pam grinned, "I went to a great party, saw The Hustler remade before my very eyes, had a wonderful dinner in a nice hotel...and now I'm going to watch my first ever pornographic movie!"

Pam grabbed the remote and rolled up to sit cross-legged on the bed. "You pick," she demanded and began flipping from trailer to trailer.

"Give me the remote," I said. "Now, close your eyes."

Pam looked at me questioningly. "Why?"

"Why are you asking why?" I quoted her own words back to her, "some questions don't have answers."

The way she grinned as she closed her pretty eyes gave me a shiver. I groaned just slightly. Pam opened her eyes.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied.

"I heard you groan. You want me to sit here with my eyes closed, you have to tell me why your groaning." She was grinning at me again. She smiles, I lose.

Have you ever known that what you are about to say is going to sound silly? Nothing you can do about it...you're stuck with the truth and the truth is silly...sort of...or something very much like silly.

The shiver that zipped down my spine when Pam closed her eyes was similar to a shiver we all might commonly refer to as a "willy," an example of that term being found in the sentence, "When you scratch my back lightly it gives me the willies."

I don't know if women even KNOW about piss shivers, but men will instantly understand the sort of shiver I'm talking about if I say, "It was kind of like a piss shiver." Note: Ladies, if you don't know what a piss shiver is, ask any man. I could go into it but I'm already on a tangent...

The difference between this willy and your average garden variety willy was that, for some reason, this willy didn't "release". As anyone knows, the normal path for a willy is down the spine and out through the tailbone in a lovely little tremor that makes one say, "Oooh," or something like that.

This willy hit the tailbone and stopped...just sat there...willying. Lemme tell you, it was pretty intense. I liked it well enough, but the only problem was this: Pam had asked me what made me groan. The only answer I could give her was, "I had a willy jam."

Yeah. She laughed, too. And she didn't even know what the hell I was talking about.

I explained "the willy that made me moan" and she agreed to close her eyes, although she was still laughing. I began flipping through the porn trailers.

"This one features a cast of midgets. It's set at the San Diego Zoo and is sponsored by Kraft Salad Dressing."

Pam laughed. "Sounds interesting."

"It might be a documentary piece. Let's see what else there is. Here's one about a couple who apparently have some sort of twisted shellfish fetish. It's set in a hotel."

"What sort of shellfish?"

"The title of the movie is 'The Scallop Trollop', but it looks like she's eating strawberries."

I had reached down a picked up a large, ripe strawberry and dipped it almost fully into the fresh whipped cream. Pam's eyes were still closed as I touched the white cream to her lower lip. I saw her flinch just slightly at the unexpected contact. Then her tongue slipped out, taking the whipped cream off her lip and lifting the strawberry from my fingers. With her eyes still closed, she cradled the strawberry on her extended tongue, pressing it so slightly against her upper lip. Rolling the berry back and forth gently, Pam let her lips wrap around the soft fruit, using her tongue to smoothly place it between her white teeth. Her lips were lightly coated with the whipped cream.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned as her teeth slid through the strawberry, sweet juice running into her mouth. The berry disappeared as her tongue slid over her lips, taking the whipped cream with it. "I must remember to keep my eyes closed around you."

I picked a fairly hot, yet harmless looking porno and charged it to the room with the remote control. "If you keep your eyes closed you'll miss the movie."

The flik was pretty straight forward. It wasn't bad as porn fliks go - the story of two sisters who operated a struggling lingerie store and the lengths they would go to in order to increase sales. I'm honestly not familiar with any porn stars, so I can't tell you who was in it. I know who Ron Jeremy is because he's become a cultural icon, and it turns out Peter North is from my province...he was interviewed in the home town newspaper - sort of a local boy makes bad good piece. Apparently those two passed on this script. I could also probably tell you the names of four or five females porn actors, but I wouldn't recognize any of them. In any case, the flik had the all the requisite blondes, blowjobs, close-ups, cum shots.... "Thumbs" up.

As we watched the movie, I stroked my foot against Pam's foot and traced my fingers lightly up and down her arm. Her breathing was shallow and I could see her heart pounding in the vein in her throat.

"So what do you think?" I asked Pam.

"Some of it is pretty hot. I love lingerie...so that's a nice bit of plot for me. I don't care for the close- ups of the...you know...the penetration. But the oral sex is really hot! I can see why people get off watching this stuff."

Getting off wasn't going to be a problem for me. Sitting on a bed in a hotel room watching porno with this gorgeous woman...I had a hard on that hurt. Pam and I were sipping champagne, eating strawberries and whipped cream and watching a pornographic movie. When it all dawned on me...that I had met this beautiful woman only five or six hours ago...I turned to her and asked her to pinch me.

"Why do you want me to pinch you? Think you're dreaming?"

"Not certain I'm not," I answered.

She reached over with her right hand as if to pinch my cheek, but her fingers slid across my skin and through my hair to the back of my head. She pulled me to her and kissed me. I could taste the strawberries in her mouth as her tongue gently probed mine. That one kiss simply didn't stop. In seconds we were not kissing, we were necking. Feverishly necking. Hands sliding down arms and over hips...my fingers trailing up her belly to cup her firm breasts through her shirt. As my fingers found and lightly pinched her nipple, Pam moaned into my mouth and wrapped one leg over mine, pulling her hips into me and thrusting against my hard cock with a gentle yet steady motion.

We began undressing each other and ourselves. Her clothes, my clothes...if it was on, it needed to come off...she grabbed my shorts and jeans together and peeled them off my legs. Pam raised her hips to let me pull off her jeans. She did say she loved lingerie. She was wearing black, silky, french cut panties...but not tight, not snug like a thong, but sheer and absolutely sexy. I could see her arousal through the gossamer fabric, her wetness shiny on her swollen lips. I let my fingers caress her through her panties. Her matching silk camisole was clinging to her firm breasts as her erect nipples poked against the fabric. She saw me looking at her.

"There's that look again...like you've never seen a woman before."

"Looking at you, Pam, I wonder if I ever have."

She sighed and pulled me down on top of her, covering my neck with hot, sucking kisses as her hand squeezed my throbbing cock.

We kissed deeply as I pushed her hands up over her head. As we broke the kiss, I pinned her hands to the bed with my own and began kissing my way across her collarbones... lower, over the camisole, gently kissing and biting her soft, firm flesh through the material. Her breathing was picking up...I felt her nipple swell even more as I sucked it into my mouth through the now wet silk. Pam moaned and arched her breasts out to me.

I slid back up and whispered in her ear, "I love turning you on, Pam. Feeling your nipple get hard in my mouth makes me ache. I want to make you wet...so wet. I want to please you. Do you have any idea how much I love making your pussy wet? God! It's like some kind of drug!"

"You're not making me wet," Pam moaned, "you're making me soaked! I'm wetter than I've ever been before in my life...I can feel myself dripping. My thighs are wet!"

I held both of Pam's wrists in one hand. She wasn't resisting at all, but it was clear we were both enjoying this little dynamic. With my free hand, I traced my fingers down the length of her arm, across her breast - pausing to tweak her throbbing nipple - down over her belly to the waistline of her sexy, sheer black panties.

Slowly my fingertips traced the very edge of the fabric, down across the inside of her thighs...over the silk where it covered her mound, above her clit, never making direct contact with her hot sex.

Pam was twisting her hips, trying to make me touch her pussy. The little moans and gasps that came from her each time my fingers came close contrasted with the little groans and whimpers that followed their straying further away.

Without any warning, I quickly trailed one finger up the length of Pam's slit through the sheer fabric of her panties. Even as her hips thrust up off the mattress, her knees spreading almost unconsciously further apart, my finger was gone. The memory of that fleeting contact brought whimpers from Pam's throat.

Tracing slow, lazy circles all around, but never directly on her pussy. The fabric was now very wet. Pam wasn't kidding when she said she was soaked - her pussy was literally shiny and dripping with her eager arousal. Each time my fingers trailed over her inner thighs close to her pussy, the wetness was noticeable...I could feel it.

I brought my fingers to her mouth. Pam snaked out her tongue to flick across my fingertips.

I whispered in her ear again, "Do you want me to touch you?"

Pam looked at me...again with those hypnotising eyes...and said only one word, "Please."

I slipped my fingers easily underneath her loose fitting silk panties, down over closely cropped pubic hair. Her pussy was so soft! Perfect, wet, smooth swollen lips...sucking my finger inside her tight, squeezing sex. I could feel her wetness coating my fingers. I brought them to my mouth and sucked two of them deep, rolling my tongue over Pam's flavour before slipping them back between her open thighs.

The lightest strokes above her clit...then just a little more firmly. Letting the middle finger just lie along the length of her wet slit. Feeling her hips rocking my unmoving finger deeper inside her pussy as I lightly began to stroke up and down...feeling her open. I love that moment when my finger first penetrates a wet pussy...gently stroking...hooking up to touch the inside front wall...eventually finding that little bundle of nerves...that spot.

Pam had her hands around my neck...alternately pulling me to her by my shoulders, or stroking her hands up and down my arms. And she had that smile on her face. Her eyes were closed and she was grinning. This grin...this pure joy, blissful...can't begin to find words for that smile.

"I love...you...touching me," Pam gasped, "feels like...ohhhh...yesss..."

I was sliding two fingers slowly in and out of Pam's beautiful, wet pussy and circling my thumb over her clit, just above the hood, in rhythm with my fingers. Pam's wrists were still in my right hand, pinned above her head. As she began to move with my fingers, I felt her make just the slightest motion to free her hands. I gripped slightly harder. Just that...and just slightly.

The movement of Pam's hips against my fingers increased dramatically. I felt her pussy contract around my fingers as she moaned, "Yeah...you're going to touch me... any way you want to, aren't you? You make me so wet...and horny...I can feel you...hard against my hip. My hands are pinned...and I can't stop you...oh my god...ohhhh your fingers are in my pussy!"

I picked up the pace of my fingers. Pam's eyes were still closed, but the grin had been replaced by this very...sultry smile...that sat on the corners of her mouth. Not like the cat that ate the canary...more like the cat that had the canary exactly where she wanted it and could afford to be really smug about the inevitable.

"I love the way you feel, Pam," I breathed in her ear, "I love the way you taste. I love watching the way your body responds to my touch. You're so wet." My thumb gently pushed the hood over her clit back to lightly brush the pad of my thumb directly over her sensitive little bud. "I could lie here, pressing my body against you like this, touching your hot pussy for hours. I don't ever want to let you up, Pam...I just want to keep fucking you with my fingers...even after you cum."

"Oh my God! You could...I'd just keep cumming...OH Fuck! You'd...feel....me cumming.... You'd know. You would know...what you do to me."

Pam sucked my lower lip into her mouth. "You can...kiss me...when I cum. When your fingers make my...pussy...cum!" Her tongue licking and stroking, breath coming in gasps as her thighs began to tremble.

With a tiny shriek, Pam kissed me hard and closed her thighs around my hand, twisting sideways in my arms to face me as rhythmic spasms coursed through her body. Each stuttered breath was punctuated with a whimpering gasp only muffled by our passionate kiss.

As her thighs slowly relaxed around my hand, Pam continued to kiss me, lazily but so intimately, while I simply let my fingers rest inside her swollen pussy. I could feel her squeezing me, so I stroked my finger around in a small circle, making her gasp.


Pam was still dripping wet, but I could tell she was a little sensitive from having cum. I continued to tease her gently with my fingers as I kissed her eyelids.

"If I let your hands go, what would do with them?" I whispered in her ear.

"Hmmmm," Pam considered, "I can think of a few things. But if you keep teasing me like that, I know which one I'm gong to pick."

I let my finger hook up to caress that spot on the inside front wall, making her twist her hips and draw a sharp breath.

"OHHHH! Okay...if that's...ohhhhh...how you.....want to play....is...ah....."

I smothered Pam's mouth with a kiss, cutting off whatever she was about to say. She was moaning into my mouth and thrusting her hips at my fingers, but it definitely had an element about it...like being tickled...as good as it felt, I could tell the pleasure was simply too intense for her.

Pam exploded out of my arms, pulling her hands free. She put both hands flat against my chest and shoved my onto my back. And let me tell you, I mean Shoved. There are judo throws that don't put a man on his back that hard or that fast. In a flash she had straddled me and had each of my wrists in her hands, playfully pushing my hands back over my head. When in Rome.

With my hands securely pinned over my head by the sheer brute strength of this gorgeous young woman, she proceeded to ask if I enjoyed touching her pussy like that.

"I have to admit I did enjoy it," I grinned up at her.

"And there was nothing I could do to stop you," Pam looked me straight in the eye as she began rubbing her wet crotch and soaked silk panties back and forth over my cock. "You had your fingers in me...making me cum...and I had to just lie there and take it. I wonder what I should do, now that I have you pinned down."

I made a token effort to break free, making Pam slide up my body and rest her knees on my biceps. Now, at this point, I was pinned down. I mean, sure...I can throw this woman off me if it comes right down to it, but having a 130 or so pound woman leaning on your biceps with her knees while straddling your chest is simply one of those positions that do not call for sheer brute strength. If you haven't figured that out, stop reading now. Unplug your computer. How did you ever find this story, anyway?

I could feel her rocking her hips in little circles. She was looking right through me with those eyes. And the smile had changed again - it was...curious. Her hands stroked slowly up and down over her camisole, each pass bringing her fingers closer to the heat between her legs. Her nipples were straining against the silk - the sight of them made me try to touch them - trying to move my arms resulted in sharp little pains as her weight prevented me from moving. She felt the effort and reasserted her position, pressing down a little harder on my biceps.

Her hands delved between her legs, touching her pussy as she looked down at me. "I know exactly how to punish you for making me cum," she whispered, "I'm going to make you do it again." Her fingers slipped under the flimsy material covering her sex and pulled it to the side as she moved higher. I could see her glistening pussy, swollen lips, erect clit peeking out. Pam ran her fingers between her lips, spreading herself open before my eyes. "You're going to suck my pussy until I come, lover...and you have no choice."

With a deep moan, Pam lowered her wet pussy onto my lips and grabbed a handful of my hair with one hand. Her grip on my hair was almost painful, but coupled with the way she was grinding her hot sex onto my mouth, the fact that my arms were now free was of little consequence.

I buried my tongue inside her and sucked her engorged lips into my mouth. Pam was rocking her hips back and forth in a fucking motion, rubbing her clit across my probing tongue, twisting in little circles on contact. But she was in control of this...total control. Her other hand took a second handful of hair as her hips began spiralling up and down on my face.

"Oh God! Make me cum! I'm gonna fuck....you....lick me....make me cum...with your fingers like a slut...now who's the slut? Now you're...MY slut! Lick me, slut!"

Pam was wild. Her pussy was creaming on my lips and tongue, her words and breathing mixing vulgar promises and gasps for oxygen. She was so wet, so aroused, I could feel my cock twitching with desire to be inside this hot, wanton woman.

"Cumming...close...oh yesss!" My entire mouth, chin, cheeks and throat were coated with Pam's wetness. I swear I could feel her pussy contracting, spasming around my the tip of my tongue as she pressed her thighs tight to the sides of my head and screamed.

"CUM...taste me...lick me...pussy...suck my wet pussy...suck me, I'm cumming in your mouth! Oh yeah...Yeah...I love the way you suck me. Mmmmmmm." Pam shook and dripped and came on my greedy tongue. I tried to drink all of her, sucking and pushing my tongue as far inside her as I could.

"Oh...I like that," Pam breathed, as she lifted her wet sex from my mouth, "I really do love the way you lick me, you little pussy slut," she laughed.

I grinned as I saw the opportunity. Grasping each of her ankles in my hands, I simply sat up. Unable to move her feet, Pam rolled straight onto her back between my spread legs with her legs tucked underneath her. She couldn't move forward, and she couldn't move back. With one foot on either side my hips and her legs bent under at the knee, Pam's pussy, in all its wet, swollen beauty, was spread open in front of my eyes.

I grinned down at her. "No wonder I love being your pussy slut, Pam, look at what a beautiful pussy you have."

Pam tried to move and realized that she couldn't. I could tell she was slightly embarrassed at having her wet pussy exposed like this to my eyes, even despite the fact that only a moment ago she had been lustfully grinding her clit on my mouth. But she was also turned on. There were those eyes again, but with yet another look burning in them. My eyes caressing her exposed pussy was driving her insane with desire. She tried to move more strenuously, I merely increased the pressure of my grip on her ankles. She wasn't going anywhere. And as she realized that, I could feel her knees begin to rhythmically press against my hips...before my eyes her pussy began to thrust toward me...she was fucking my eyes! I could see her becoming wetter...her clit peeking out from under its hood. This woman was getting off just from me watching her pussy...the thrill of not being able to cover herself from my sight.

"What are you doing, Pam?" I asked her, smiling.

"You're making me cum again...I can't help it. You're making me be bad."

"Do you want me to let you up?"

"YES!" She almost shouted, but even as the word spilled from her lips, her knees pressed harder and her pussy thrust a bit closer to me. "I know you can make me...show you," she gasped, "You don't have to hold me...just say it. Just...tell me....to show you. I will. You know I want you...to see. Look how wet I am! Oh fuck! You are making me...I can't stop you...."

"If I let you go, will you suck my cock, Pam?"

"I'll do anything you want. I can't stop you."

"Do you want to stop me, Pam?"

She hesitated. I pressed another button. "Do you want me to let you go so you can be the slut you want to be?"

"You're making me a slut. You showed me dirty movies. You're making me want to be a slut...to be your slut."

"Do you want to suck my cock like a good slut, Pam?"

Pam's pussy was dripping. Her wetness running down her lips to her ass...there was a wet spot on the sheets underneath her sexy ass.

"God yes! Please make me suck your cock. Let me show you what a good slut I can be when you make me cum!"

I released Pam's ankles and she scrambled onto her knees between my legs. As she lowered her head, I heard her breath the words, "Thank you." Then I felt her mouth envelop the head of my cock. She sucked two or three times quickly and then opened her mouth wide and simply let the head press into the roof of her mouth. That's when I felt her tongue. It was a little confusing at first. I could feel only the head of my cock in her mouth, but I could feel her tongue stroking the very base. I whipped my head up to look. Substantially more of my cock than just the head was in Pam's mouth, but because she had opened her mouth very wide, the only sensation of contact was where the tip pressed against her palate. This sexy, sensual woman then extended her tongue and curled the tip into the underside to stroke me.

"What are you doing to me?" I gasped.

"Being bad," Pam replied, "Being your little slut and showing you what I do when you make me cum."

A few more flicks of her tongue and then Pam slowly took my entire seven inches into her mouth, all the way, until the head of my cock slid tightly into her pulsing throat. She held me there, milking me with her throat, and then slid back to take a breath, drawing it around my shaft as her fingers massaged my balls.

She alternated licking my cock, holding it in her hand and running her tongue up and down my length, with greedy, sucking, erotic strokes in and out of her throat. I had to feel her hot pussy.

"Pam, baby...you have to stop or I'm going to cum."

She mewled around my throbbing cock, obviously loving the idea that I would erupt in her hot mouth.

"Next time, Pam. I want to fuck you. I want to slide my cock deep inside your wet pussy."

Pam pulled off my cock and spun around, immediately lowering her head to the mattress, arching her back and thrusting her incredibly sexy ass, still covered by the most sheer black silk, up in the air. Her breasts were pressed into the mattress as she began wiggling her ass at me and spreading her knees even further apart.

Some women have an ass that's perfectly designed for fucking from behind and Pam was close to setting the standard. Two perfectly smooth, round, firm globes...her gorgeous wet pussy swollen, open and exposed save for the most sheer silk, there for my pleasure. Her tight, clenching ass, waiting for me to tease. Her trembling thighs, spread wide, inviting my pleasure.

I moved behind her and gently scratched my fingers up and down her back. Pam responded by rubbing her ass back against my hard cock and moaning, "Please, Lover...don't make me wait for it. I need you in me. Fuck me! Fuck my hot pussy!"

Gripping my aching cock in my hand, I ran the head up and down Pam's dripping, sucking slit. She pushed back, trying to push her wet sex back onto me. I held her hips with my other hand, pulling the wet head of my cock up to stroke her ass. Pam gasped at the contact and I slid my cock back down across her pussy and over her clit. I slipped one finger into my mouth and let the tip trail again over her tight rim. Pam gasped again.

The head of my cock was leaking precum as it pushed between her puffy labia, opening her for the that first, slow, wonderful stretching as she adjusted to the swollen head of my sex. I placed on hand on the small of her back, the other on her hip as I pushed forward, sliding my long, thick cock into her hot pussy. God, was she tight! Contracting, pulsing around me...hot, wet...pulling me deeper, I could feel my cock twitching inside her incredible wetness.

Pam moaned from deep in her throat as I entered her, pushing back slowly but firmly, taking me all the way until I felt the head of my cock pushing past her cervix to touch her deep inside.

"My God! You're so big!" Pam was moving her hips in tight little circles, stroking her inner walls on the head of my aching cock. "I feel so full. Fuck me...God! Fuck me with that lovely cock! Fuck me...cum in me...on me...I want it in me...ooooohhh fuck..."

I was slowly beginning to stroke my cock in and out of Pam's sweet pussy, the force of my thrusts increasing in proportion to the lusty words coming from my lover's mouth. I felt her hand reaching back between her thighs to caress my balls and play with her swollen clit. As soon I felt her feather touch on my ball, I knew I wouldn't last very long. When Pam's entire body began to shake and she moaned, "OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?" I lost it.

Pam was moaning "fuck me...cum...make me cum...cumming...fuck...cumming...oh fuck..." and shaking beneath me as her pussy spasmed around my hot cock in ways I cannot begin to describe.

With my hands gripping her hips and my cock pounding in and out of her dripping pussy, Pam came. The scream actually scared me, it was so loud and so sudden, but even the adrenaline rush of being startled couldn't hold back my orgasm. With a couple of shaking thrusts, I buried my cock as deeply in Pam's hot sex as I could and released jet after jet of thick, hot cum.

Pam was babbling, "I feel it...in me...cum...cum in me...that's right, baby, fill me up...give me your sweet cum...in me...in me, baby...in my hot little pussy...cum for me...give it all to me...oh yeah..."

I collapsed forward as Pam slid out flat, my cock still in her, my weight supported by my arms and my pelvis pressed into her sexy, firm ass. She raised her head to kiss me as my cock softened and slipped from her. I rolled onto my back. The phone rang. I knew who it was.

"Hello? It's 5:00 am...whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling."

"This is the Desk Clerk, Sir."

"What's with all the screaming going on up here?" I demanded sharply.

"That's why I was calling, Sir, you see we've had some calls..."

"I bet you have. Damn people up here screaming and yelling all night! How am I supposed to get any sleep? For the price of scallops and a bed around here, you'd think I could get some peace and quiet. We'll be checking out in about an hour, and I hope you have an explanation for all of this."

I hung up the phone, rolled over and kissed Pam. She draped her arms around me. Smiled again. Sigh.

"I just want you to know something," Pam said quietly, "...it's just that...I mean...we only met last night and...all of this...it's just..."

"Sweetness," I smiled back at her, "you and I are going to have a lot of time to explain why we wound up here, tonight, starting this. That is, assuming we ever decide it's one of those 'Why' questions that's really worth asking."

About an hour later, after a wonderful hot shower together in the marble bathroom and an unbelievable blowjob that Pam "forced" me to endure, we stepped off the elevator in the lobby.

Desk Clerk was wrapping up his night shift and calculated our bill. $260, all in. I tossed a fifty and a ten on the counter. As Pam and I stepped out into the street, she turned to me. "You never did get an explanation for all that screaming."

"I know," I replied, "but my mind is elsewhere just now."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Two things, actually. First, I want to make reservations for the same room, Neil's birthday, next year..."

Pam smiled at me.

Second, I want to go back to the party...see if Mr. Personality is up for a rematch...way I have it figured, he still owes me $60 for the room."

Pam tucked her hand into my coat pocket and laced her fingers through mine as we walked slowly down the street, the morning after Neil Young's birthday.