Happily unaware of the situation which was building around him, Rick Benton lay over the back of the sleek afro-haired black girl, his spent cock softening in the hot circle of her tightly throbbing rectum. One thing about Jonie, he thought… she could talk straight with a cock up her ass!
"I still say you should get her out to the neighborhood and gang-bang the shit out of her, and then I'll eat up her pussy and make her feel good," Jonie argued.
"No fucking way!" the boy retorted. "I can make her any way I want on her own turf, but take her to the ghetto and she's gonna get so fucking uptight… no, I got the pad now. I can get her there okay… she wants a place to fuck. Just you line up the guys. We'll bang her senseless-but I take her away- shit, I rescue her, and she's all over me. Dig?"
"You got a fucking brain, Rick," she admitted, wriggling out from under his weight and slowly opening her legs. Her slim fingers parted the soft, dark-hair fringed flanges of her cunt and she said, "Eat me a little-didn't cum."
"Shit," he muttered. "Well, I'll fix that!"
He took a mouthful of straight bourbon whiskey and burrowed down between her widespread young thighs, fastening his lips tight to her cuntal mouth. He squirted the burning liquor far up her fluid-heated cunt and listened to her scream as it seared her most sensitive flesh. Slowly he began to let it ooze, drop by drop, onto his delving tongue. It was damn good practice for Candy Mullender.
They left the motel before 8 a.m. There was coastal fog and Rick put up the convertible top. He gave only passing attention to various police and sheriff's cars. He was well within the speed limit, and moving with city-bound traffic. There was no reason to notice the small red sports car, which passed him from time to time, and was passed in turn, except to think it would be nice to have a car like that some day. Jonie fished his cock out of his pants and tried to suck it, but he shoved her head out of his lap. He had to concentrate on his driving. And her mouth wasn't as sweet as her asshole. They had stayed awake most of the night. Candy-and Jonie still didn't know who Candy was-was all set up.
Rick Benton thought he had figured all the angles. He would use his buddies, and Jonie. He would move Candy into a position where, between her wild lust for his young virile body and the threat of losing everything she had, would make him incredibly rich overnight.
Really hand him the key to a showbiz career of his own. And, if he worked it right, she'd never know how she'd been used. All he had to do was fuck her, keep her happy, and let her think that whatever went wrong was just bad luck.
Rick liked Candy Mullender. Nice girl with a nice, hot pussy and a lot of money and connections. If he could just keep her on her knees, begging, it would be beautiful.
Far from having a damaging effect on her as an actress, Candy Mullender discovered her affair with Rick was beneficial. With her body contented, she was more at ease, and she would have a new number down right in much less time than before. At first she had been afraid she'd give him away by the way she looked at the boy when others were around, but she found it possible to act normally, maybe because she had always been genuinely friendly and courteous with everyone.
The horse turned out to be a stroke of genius. The agency publicity department got wind of it and decided that the beast would make a nice counterpoint to Candy's normal image.
The hideout apartment was also perfect for the purpose. Thick shrubbery concealed comings and goings, and it was sound-proof. She and Rick spent a lot of time in it during the ensuing weeks. From time to time he brought friends, including a stunning black girl named Jonie. Candy sensed something with the girl but could not pin it down. She finally decided Jonie had probably been Rick's girl before she took him over and was resentful… yet it didn't seem to be quite that.
Candy had been nervous the first time Rick announced they would have guests. She had argued against it, but he out-talked her, pointing out that they couldn't hide forever, and it would be wise to see if she could fool his friends by altering her appearance. They were of the same age group as the great mass of fans, and, if they didn't recognize her, then nobody would. Accordingly, Candy bought a wig, a blonde one styled differently than her own hair, and wore dark-tinted contact lenses over her violet eyes. Just those things and reshaping her generous mouth with heavy lipstick did the job perfectly.
After the first visit, Candy was completely at ease, and would get a silent chuckle when the teenagers would get to talking about her latest movie or TV spot. She discovered they were rough kids, because of the conditions in which they lived. But it was recognized that she was Rick's property, and she wasn't molested. The only one who ever touched her was Jonie, and that made Candy a little uncomfortable-having even the suggestion of a caress from another female-but she put it down to the girl trying to be overly friendly because she'd been cold at first. But a couple of things bothered her.
Sometimes they brought beer and liquor and drank, although they didn't get noisy drunk. And, on a few occasions, she had come in to sniff the acrid odor of marijuana in the apartment. At this, she protested vigorously, but again allowed Rick to calm her.
"Candy, everybody smokes," he said. "Take three deep breaths at the next shooting, and you'll be high yourself. It's not a hard time rap any more-maybe a fifty buck fine if anybody bothers to bust you."
"A fifty-buck fine for you." she snapped back. "For Candy Mullender, actress, what is it? It's Candy's ass! Headlines in the paper saying, ACTRESS STAGES TEENAGE POT PARTY! that's what it'll be!"
"Shit! There's never more than a couple of sticks. Nobody's holdin' or dealin'… we can't get busted here because the narcs would have to come pounding up two flights of steps, and it's all down the crapper. We'll burn incense."
Candy could not prevail against his thinking. She was;afraid to press it for fear he'd walk out of her life, and that she'd rebound and be grabbed by some real heel. Rick's lifestyle had changed for the better, but at least lie wasn't stealing from her. He accounted for everything and-to her great surprise-insisted on paying for the expensive guitar out of his salary. He said he had bought it when he had the chance to get it cheap. The car, clothes, and spending money he accepted as gifts, and it was tacitly understood that, in time, he would inherit the truck, horse, trailer and tack. But the guitar seemed to be a point of honor with him. She knew she would never understand the young mind.
Several times he played the guitar and sang to her, and Candy found herself wincing. He was not great as a singer, and, as a guitarist, he had two left hands. She tried to be tactful, casually mentioning how tough it was to reach star status, and moving on to how much more money was to be made in the business end.
"You are a natural born manager," she told him once. "The way you handle all the little things for me… the way you set up everything we have together- half an hour on the phone. Rick, I want you to stick with the agency and take some business courses. Jason Wells likes you, and, if I ask him to, he'll see you get ahead."
"Lady, you're right," the boy admitted. "I'm not talented, except maybe I'm so bad I'm good, like Jack Benny with his fiddle. I will think on what you say."
Actually she had not told the shrewd teenage boy anything he had not known. But, making her say it had put her deeper in his debt. Just as insisting on paying for the guitar had been a master stroke laid upon her eager ass. It amounted to buying the hubcaps and then stealing the car to which they were attached.
Week by week, he drew the unsuspecting dark-haired actress deeper into his intricate web. He even brought her to the point where she would take a hit off a joint after he had fucked her silly, so she barely knew what she was doing. Now he had her accepting his selected friends without question.
The time for nailing Candy Mullender was coming.
Sergeant Vance Dawson was also active in his quiet, thorough way. His Lieutenant's commission had finally come through, and, as he had promised, Tom Stanford, the officer who had set up the surveillance on Rick and the brunette, had made his stripes. Needing a partner, Dawson had brought Stanford partly into the deal. He could trust Stanford-the cop was a cocksman of great determination.
Various segments of the intricate state crime-fighting organization were tapped. The Intelligence Unit of the LAPD bugged the apartment and its phone and also Candy's home phone. Sporadically, Rick and Candy were trailed, either together or separately. Narcs nosed around. One, disguised as a phone repairman, got into the apartment and prowled it. He found one marijuana roach and nothing more-not enough to bother with. The apartment layout was thoroughly scouted and means of making a successful raid were discussed by experts.
In the end, the new Lieutenant Vance Dawson and his sidekick told the experts to go to hell-they would get warrants and hit when they thought the time was ripe. To predictions that they would never get in undetected, Dawson would say only, "We'll get in."
A few days later, events moved forward abruptly. Candy and Rick had their first knock-down, drag out fight. It was on a weekend in spring, and the first bullfights of the season were scheduled in Tijuana. Rick wanted to go. Candy didn't. She thought they were cruel. But she told him to go, knowing it was a colorful spectacle in which some people took great pleasure, and, as long as she was going to have a lover who did, she would have to allow him certain things. She had gone to her house in Woodlands.
And on that Sunday evening, she discovered she'd left a videotape at the apartment, one which she had to have. And she drove there, arriving shortly after 9 p.m.., expecting to find the place vacant.
It was not vacant. Rick and perhaps a dozen friends, all youths, were there. They were smoking pot and drinking and so entranced with watching a pornographic movie that they didn't notice her arrival. Stunned and infuriated, Candy took in the scene. And then a temper she didn't realize she had erupted.
She was wearing her outfit with high-heeled boots, and her first move was to scream in anger and kick the projector so hard it broke into three pieces. Then she hurled a can of film through the screen. Then she threw anything she could get her hands on at any target. She was stopped only when Rick himself tackled her and threw her to the floor, but, even then, she was able to leave the red welts of her nails on his face.
"You son of a bitch!" she screamed. "Bullfights, is it? Was that a bull the girl in the movie was sucking? What's the matter? I'm not enough woman for you? You have to look at dirty pictures. Get off me! Get out! All of you!"
She punched him in the nose, making it bleed.
He hit her with the flat of his hand, then the back of his hand, again and again, until blood ran from her mouth.
"The corrida was rained out," she said, fury in his pale face. "When men are together, they will do things they would not do with their women around. If you ever raise your hand to me again, lady, I will kill you! Now, you get out!"
Terrified, Candy realized he meant every word. Abjectly, her face stinging from his brutal slaps, she picked herself up and fled. Her world was ended. Somehow she made it back to Woodlands.
The next day, she went to retrieve whatever she might have left in the hideout apartment. There was little, as Rick had been very efficient at seeing she left no clues to her identity around. She looked at the big foam-rubber bed on which they had given each other so much pleasure, then threw herself on it and wept until her entire body shook.
"He will be back. He is sorry. He had to do what he did."
Candy rubbed her tear-swollen eyes, blinking, until she could recognize Jonie Karson standing in the doorway of the bedroom. She wondered if Rick had sent her to get his things. The Negro girl was stunningly beautiful. Her full, pointed tits, unfettered by a brassiere, showed clearly through a sheer, scoop-necked off-the-shoulder blouse. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in a long afro. She had on short cotton skirt and bikini panties which concealed none of the dark "vee" of her cunt. She wore calf-high boots of leather which matched the brief skirt. Her taut black ass-cheeks clenched as she crossed to the bed and bent over Candy.
"You castrated him in his own house," Jonie said. "A man -and especially a young man thinks a lot of himself as a man- can never allow a woman to do what you did. You are a woman, so you would not understand. Rick realizes this, and he is truly sorry. But he had to do what he did." She was carrying a shoulder bag and drew a packet from it. "He asked me to bring you these. The papers on the truck and the trailer and the horse. And his note to repay all you gave him, as soon as he can."
Candy began to cry again. Brokenly, she said, "I don't want them… I want Rick!"
"Then you must work to get him back. He is proud," the Negro girl said as she sat on the bed and leaned over to stroke Candy's tear-stained face. "You should cry first. Cry it all out, and then you can think. I will stay with you."
Candy felt herself being drawn into the beautiful young girl's arms as Jonie slipped her boots off and lay on the bed. Candy, her eyes streaming, burrowed her face into the soft, warm valley between the Negro girl's dark upthust young tits, feeling their heat and firmness and the firm nipples. Her arms held Jonie close and she let herself go for a long time as Jonie's deft fingers stroked her, sliding lightly over the full curves of tits and hips and ass-cheeks. It did not seem unnatural, only very comforting, and, in time, the utter despair began to melt away in the embrace. Candy Mullender no longer felt alone.
She began to feel serene, even experienced fluttering sensual arousal at Jonie's skilled touch as the girl's fingers danced slowly up the insides of her thighs, brushed over her soft pussy mound and began to make little circles on her belly.
"Why are you doing this for me?" Candy whispered as she gradually regained control. "I-I thought you didn't like me. That maybe Rick had been your man and I took him away. Do-do you know who I am?"
Jonie laughed softly, dark sensuous lips opening to show fine white teeth as she said, "I knew the first minute I saw you, Candy. A wig and some little changes here and there will fool a man but not another woman. And Rick was not mine-Rick is not anybody's. I have never told anyone. Why should I hurt you?"
"You're… you're nice, Jonie," Candy said. "I'm a black chick. Maybe I understand things, but I'm not nice." She laughed softly, without humor. "Candy, we got to hang together against the studs, you dig? Fuck them around before they fuck us around." As if on impulse, she pulled Candy close and kissed her full on the lips, her tongue sliding into Candy's surprised mouth. At first Candy tried to recoil, but it was the first gentle physical contact she'd had in days, and, through her warm moving lips, Jonie seemed to be pouring out the universal troubles of being a woman. Candy found herself responding, moving closer.
It seemed natural to hold the beautiful black girl tight and let her legs fall open as Jonie's warm, rounded knee slid up between her thighs and began to rub sensuously over the lips of her quickly-arousing cunt. Jonie's full black tits were flattened against her own and their bodies began to undulate together. Candy moaned as Jonie broke the long kiss.
"You're wrung out," Jonie said. "Why don't you take a long soak in the bathtub, and we can rap when you've got yourself together."
"Yes… that sounds good," Candy whispered. She could feel the sensual arousal slowly diminishing now in her body. It was something she'd never dreamed she could have-the desire to hold and kiss another woman, and she put it down to the terrible emotional stress she was under. "If you want anything to eat or drink…"
"No thanks," Jonie said. "But Rick kept me up all night with his moaning and groaning, and, if I could crash here for an hour or so."
"As far as I'm concerned, you can have the whole damned apartment for the next six months," Candy said. "The rent's paid, and somebody might as well use it."
She went into the bathroom and began running hot water. Jonie Karson quickly shed her few clothes and lay naked on the bed. It was working perfectly, just as Rick had predicted! And she, Jonie, had a sweet piece of the action.
He and the stud would lay a ration of shit on little Candy. And then Jonie would appear as if by magic with comfort and arousing lovemaking-who the hell did Rick think he was, saying he could eat this chick's pussy better that she could-and they'd bang the rich brunette sex goddess back and forth like a badminton bird until all the feathers flew out of her tail!
Only, careful-don't ramshackle the silly goose as long as she's laying golden eggs- Jonie cautioned herself.
Candy Mullender found the hot bath soothing. She was so grateful to the beautiful young black girl for coming by and being so understanding, willing to help her overcome her terrible mistake and get Rick back. In time she stepped from the tub, dried herself in a fluffy towel and, with it wrapped around her, went back to the bedroom. The hot bath had made Candy lethargic. She felt the urgent need for a catnap. In the doorway, she paused to gaze at Jonie's gracefully poised body. The black girl was truly beautiful. Candy wished she had such soft black tits, such a slender waist and richly swelling hips and rounded ass-cheeks. And her skin tone was so beautifully olive. Candy had never liked her own skin. It was too pale, and, no matter which lotions she used, she never seemed to tan just right. She wondered if Jonie would be interested in a job as a model. The agency had plenty who were dogs compared to her, and she would like to do something nice for Jonie.
"Ola!" Jonie murmured, rolling on her back. "Feeling better, Candy?"
"Much," Candy said. "But it almost put me to sleep. I could fall down right here."
"Then come to bed. We can rap and you can catch a nap."
That sounded logical. Candy lay on the bed, snuggling into the other girl's open arms, feeling her soft naked warmth.
"You're beautiful… really beautiful," Jonie whispered, her soft lips against Candy's ear, her tongue flickering around it even as her fingers moved to cup and squeeze Candy's right tit. "I'll love you to sleep, Candy."
The dark-haired movie star wanted to protest, but the hot bath had sapped her energy and slowed her ability to think clearly. She found herself sighing and moving restlessly as the soft warm mouth closed over her rising nipple and began to suck as the tip of Jonie's tongue lazily circled the aureole. Candy trembled at the oral contact, and then twitched as she felt skilled fingers sliding up the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs to brush lightly over the still-damp curly hairs which fringed her cunt.
"Jonie!" she gasped softly as the girl's hand closed over her pussy mound and began a tantalizing circular movement. Against her will, her sensually awakening body began to respond to the expert manipulation, and she found her thighs relaxing, even as her pelvis began to undulate up and down in hunger. She looked down and saw the burning-hot tip of her tit being deliciously laved by the wet pink tip of Jonie's tongue. A finger deftly slipped inside her swelling cunt lips, dipping into her juices and Candy moaned, "I don't want to…"
"After what Rick did to you, you need some love," Jonie whispered. "Not a hard, hurting prick, but soft lips. When he told me how he hit you, I could have killed him!"
"O o o ooooohhh…" the bewitched young brunette groaned. She knew it was wrong, but was helpless. Jonie's touch… her soft fingers and even softer lips and tickling tongue were too much in her weakened emotional and physical condition. She managed to mumble a protest. "It's-lesbian-queer!"
"If it helps you through a tight spot, it's not," Jonie whispered. "You're still wound up. Your pussy's on fire., If you leave here, go out on the street; the way your head is right now, it won't be half an hour before some bar stud had you in a motel and is fucking you crazy. He'll probably smack you around and rip you off! I'll take care of you, Candy. Let off the pressure. Then you can go and tell them all to fuck off, and you may never see me again. But right now, I can be where it's all at for you."
"Oh my God…" the confused brunette mumbled. Somehow it made sense. She knew that, if she went out now, she'd be fair game for anybody. What Jonie proposed to do for her was a little unnatural, maybe, but Candy told herself it wasn't uncommon. In show biz she had many good friends who made no excuses for being bisexual, and they were the first to protest that they were not lesbians… it was just that one woman could give another certain things a man was not capable of because men were built different in mind and body.
"Yes," she sighed. "Jonie, love me."
Jonie Karson smiled to herself and began to expertly lick and kiss her way down the trembling belly of the dark-haired actress. Rick had promised this much for openers, the chance to eat Candy's sweet little pussy. Well, she'd give such beautiful head that Candy would never want Rick's tongue in her pussy again! It's so damn nice to be with a white chick like this, instead of some wild, untamable stud. They rammed their pricks into your cunt and asshole and mouth like you're just a hunk of meat for them to use. And to be with a beautiful girl like this is so far out.
Candy trembled uncontrollably as the black girl shifted to kneel between her widespread legs. She felt Jonie's hands cupping her quivering white ass-cheeks, spreading them open, and then the soft warmth of her breath over the wetly dilating lips of her pussy. She saw Jonie's lovely face dip and felt the first magic contact of mouth and tongue on her cuntal flesh. And then the glistening pink tongue-tip was searching, fluttering along the flowering slit of her pussy from side to side, dancing over her sensitively vibrating clitoris as Candy lost control and began to fuck furiously up, her hands clasping the mass of gleaming black curls to pull Jonie's head down tight into her already-steaming loins.
Jonie had been right-she was better at eating pussy than Rick! The flickings of her tongue were more delicate, faster, seemingly aimed perfectly at whatever raw nerve-end needed attention most at any second. Jonie's wetly heated mouth came down tight on her most sensitive flesh, sucking even as her tongue worked like a soft, liquid whip around the bud of her wildly aroused clitoris. And she felt an outstretched slender finger expertly sliding into her anus, rotating, but not hurting her as Rick's had. Candy groaned in mounting passion and let herself go, scissoring her long, slender legs around the burrowing face of the younger black girl, as Jonie kneaded and squeezed the smooth white half-moons of her ass-cheeks like foam rubber.
The sensations were too much! Before she realized what was happening, Candy felt her vitals clenching and spasming, her belly muscles rippling as a thick outpouring of cum poured down the steaming depths of her cuntal canal to gush and glisten on the beautiful olive-hued cheeks of her girl-lover.
"Eeeeeeyyyaaahhh" she moaned ecstatically. "Oh God, I'm cuummiinngg! Keep licking… keep sucking meeeeee!"
With the lovely dark-haired actress writhing and fucking mindlessly up to her furiously lashing tongue and pouring her sweet orgasmic juices down her throat, Jonie needed no encouragement. She forced Candy's straining legs wider apart and up so they were pressing against her heaving tits as she avidly devoured every drop of the precious fluid. The room was filled with the rich scent of their shamelessly aroused cunts and the wet sounds of licking and sucking and their loud moans of rapture. Jonie herself became so involved that she collapsed a moment after the dark-haired movie star weakly slumped back with her long legs lewdly splayed open and the golden "Vee" of her pussy furrow glistening with mingled saliva and cum. She pulled Jonie up into the warm embrace of her arms, urgently kissing her, licking her face clean.
For a long time they lay in the sweet lesbianic embrace, panting in the afterglow of their passion, hands caressing each other, lips meeting wetly. Candy's mind was in a turmoil. It had been so new, so shocking, so beautiful! As traumatic for her in a way as the first time Rick had made her cum, the first time she had taken his long hard cock into her reluctant lips, the first time she had let him go down on her. There were just so many things, so fast, in recent weeks, and now she had a new desire which must be filled! Deeply, lingeringly, she kissed Jonie's soft hot mouth, seeking her tongue and sucking urgently on it before she whispered shyly, "I want to do it to you."
"No!" Jonie shook her head firmly, "Not now! That was for you, to make you feel better. You eat my pussy and you get all hot and bothered again. Wait until your head is right. Then, if you still…" she grinned lewdly and winked a dark passionate eye."… we will go away. Not for an afternoon or a night, but a weekend or longer. But, if I let you do it now… and I want it so very badly… I would not be your friend. Understand?"
"Yes, Candy conceded.
"If you have anything to drink, I will fix a couple and we can rap about how you get Rick back."
"In the kitchen," Candy mumbled. "Make mine weak."
She could barely taste the liquor. She saw Jonie's drink was considerably darker, as she said, "Now, about Rick…?"
"Rick will come around-but you must apologize. You put him down in front of his friends."
"I'll call him right now," Candy said, reaching for the phone. "I was just upset, after a long drive, and you know…"
"The phone will not do," Jonie said. "If you want him, you must tell him to bring his friends again to a fiesta! You must show them that you are his woman, that you live only for him. Then they will respect him again, and he will love you. He will protect you. It is not necessary to say that you are sorry. It was not wrong for you to attack Rick, but to do it in front of his friends was unforgivable. The men must see you are sorry. Because you are a woman, they will make allowances, as you wouldn't know."
It was confusing to Candy, but she got the general idea. If she wanted Rick, she had to subjugate herself. Well, if that's what had to be done, she would do it.
"Could you… arrange it?" Candy asked.
"I will find Rick and speak to him in the morning."
"And tell him to get his ass back to work," Candy replied, with a great wave of relief. "That bunch of pothead actors can't even find the studio without him!" With mounting enthusiasm, she added, "And you give him another message… Either he goes to school and takes the courses that will make a big executive out of him long after he's forgotten me, or he can get his ass out of the milk shed! He's got the head for a lot more than the few trinkets and toys I've given him. You tell him I don't want anything except for him to get smarted up. Not, like he would say, fucked up! Dig?"
"I dig, Candy. You are something else. I'll fix."
Jonie dressed and left. Candy decided to stay where she was. She had to deal with Jason Wells in the morning, and there was no point to driving back to Woodlands.
She was only mildly to surprised to see Rick back on the job, efficient as ever in the morning, and relief flooded through her when he said quietly, "Jonie found me… it's cool. Sorry I hit you."
"I had it coming," she replied. "I didn't understand."
"Okay. Party weekend. I'll bring what we'll need," he said. "It could go on a couple of days."
"If it goes on a couple of days, you find us a handy motel, because we're going to need it," Candy said impishly, buoyant at the thought of being with her teenage lover again. "I have all kinds of things planned for us to do."
"We've done almost everything," he said, grinning.
"You can think of something new," she said with a lewd grin. "Half the fun of being in love is making up."
"Right on, Candy."
Yeah, how right you are, he thought as he watched the smooth seductive swing of her ass-cheeks under a mini that barely covered her twitching ass-cheeks. You want something new? Just wait until I ram my cock up your ass! Candy, once I get this rod in your ring, there's no way you'll ever turn me loose. And, if you try, I'll just send Jonie to herd you back!
He took time out to arrange with a friend in Tijuana for a shipment of Spanish fly, and then, whistling, went about his work.
After some two months, the carefully-planted bugging devices in the secluded apartment were finally producing something of interest. Lieutenant Vance Dawson had been on the point of saying to hell with the whole thing and just taking his chances on paying a call to Candy Mullender at her home. After all, she'd almost opened her legs that time on the road and given him an invitation. He thought he was too much cop-almost as much cop as pussy-hound. Seeing her get mixed up with a fifteen year old kid had set alarm bells ringing.
It just didn't figure, a hot number like her going down on a teenager. There had to be more than cock involved, somehow! The narc reported no sign of dope, other than the usual pot, which was tolerated, unless someone filed a complaint. Each of the kid's close contacts had been checked, flagged on the road, searched, and not even reds or yellowjackets had turned up, to say nothing of acid or the real hard shit. Whatever this boy Rick Benton had going for him, it wasn't dope… yet there had to be SOMETHING! Porno films, maybe. It was possible he got the brunette smashed out of her mind a couple of times and had her make it with that damn horse. He snorted in amusement. No, she wasn't that kind. Anyway, she needed rescuing, and he was ready to come to the rescue.
The newly-created lieutenant thought of all possibilities. There was no point to busting a few kids, but, if somehow hanging tight to them led him to something worthwhile, it would be good for his career.
And there was always Candy Mullender herself. Beautiful, on the way up, loaded with bread already.
Tom Stanford was the only backup he'd need. If he made a bust, he was sure he could punch down any ten East LA.. punks. They were built of pure chickenshit. Take their switchblades away and they ran like kittens.
Lieutenant Vance Dawson smelled a setup. The bugs had worked well, and he knew that somehow Candy Mullender had been led into a lesbian scene and persuaded to hold a party. So, the thing to do was bust the party.