It was mid-afternoon by the time the hot sun streaming in through the uncurtained windows roused Jill Duncan from her drugged slumber. She opened her eyes groggily, not realizing at first where she was, and gazed in confusion at her own naked body splayed out upon the wild disorder of rumpled bedclothes. Why on earth had she gone to bed without putting on her nightgown or getting under the covers? she asked herself uneasily. Rubbing her eyes, the curvaceous redhead attempted to stand up only to collapse back upon the bed as a wave of dizziness surged through her aching head. Was she sick maybe? Or… or… a faint shred of memory wafted through her disoriented brain, and without quite remembering just why, she felt guilty and ashamed, and in some inexplicable way different from the way she'd always felt before. What happened to her last night. WHAT?
Even as the troubled young girl shook her tangled auburn curls and attempted to clear away the fog that had blotted out her memory of the previous evening, she remembered that she'd had an appointment at three o'clock this afternoon at the university. She groped for the clock that she usually placed beside her bed, finally locating it on the floor with a crack in its glass face but with its hands still faithfully ticking. Three-fifteen! Oh God, she felt far too ill to get up now – it was just impossible to even consider doing so. Every muscle in her naked body ached, and the flesh down between her legs felt raw and sensitive.
Another dim flicker of recollection rippled across Jill's brain, a repulsive lewd image of herself sprawled beneath a man's body with his long thick cock piercing deep into her hair-fringed pussy. The distraught auburn-haired student shuddered and sank back down upon the bed, resolutely pushing the depraved picture from her mind. I must have been looking at those porno magazines again; probably using the vibrator too, she decided. Well, never again. IS throw them away as soon as I get up. This explanation was humiliating enough, but it was far less horrifying than the truth which lurked deep within her subconscious, so she accepted it almost thankfully.
More sleeps that's what I need, she told herself, discarding any thought of attending her appointment as she curled beneath the crumpled sheet. That'll put these filthy ideas out of my mind. And with that she sank back once more into a deadening dreamless slumber.
It was almost two hours later when she was startled from her sleep by a loud tapping on the door. Leaping out of bed and grabbing a robe from the closet as she passed, the groggy young redhead pulled open the door. A uniformed man stood there holding out a piece of blue paper and mumbling something in Danish. A telegram!
In the Duncan home, telegrams were considered an expensive waste of good hard-earned money and were sent only in the event of severe illness or death. An icy chill of fear ran through Jill's scantily body now as she accepted the ominous slip of paper, it must be about daddy, he must have had another stroke! Too perturbed to notice the way the teenaged delivery boy was staring with wide-eyed interest at her partially revealed breasts jutting out from the hastily flung on robe, she tore open the wire. Then, as she read it, her knees went weak with relief.
"MEET ME AT THE PAGODA RESTAURANT IN TIVOLI GARDENS AT EIGHT TONIGHT. LOVE, ERIK"
Jill was surprised at the strong wave of happy excitement that ran through her body as she read and then reread the message. Part of her emotion was caused by relief, of course, but a good portion of it was pure pleasure at the prospect of seeing the handsome blond Dane again. A wide smile illuminated her pretty face, erasing the tightness from around her mouth and the worried expression from her green eyes.
Suddenly Jill became aware that the young telegraph boy was still standing in the doorway. Well, what does he want? she wondered. Did he expect a tip? But she'd read in a handbook prepared by the Danish government that tipping was necessary only in taxis in Denmark, so it couldn't be that. Perplexed by his odd behavior, the voluptuous auburn-haired girl followed his glance and then turned fiery-red as she saw how her carelessly draped robe exposed the top of her full, upthrust breasts. She quickly pulled the garment tightly across her chest, causing the teenager to blush in embarrassment and quickly hurry down the stairs.
Smiling to herself at the expression of consternation on his youthful face, the curvaceous student turned back into the kitchen to make herself a pot of coffee. There were fragments of broken glass on the floor by the sink, and at the sight of them the disturbing feeling of guilt-ridden anxiety returned. Once again she tried to grasp hold of some distant memory, but it was as elusive as a dream. All the troubled redhead could be sure of was a peculiar sense of shame, and this amnesia worried her. Surely she hadn't drunk so much last night, the bottle was still half-full. What in God's name was causing her peculiar behavior?
A troubled frown replaced her smile as she picked up the slivers of glass, put on a kettle of water for coffee, and fetched her towel, soap, and lotions for a sponge bath. For some reason she felt very dirty, and she thought longingly of the large white tub in her parent's bathroom. She wondered what the Danes did for bathing – perhaps there were public baths – and determined to find out as soon as possible. Her memory black-out still tormenting her, she began to scrub furiously at her shapely body.
Perhaps she was going crazy? She remembered how her old Aunt Millicent had lost her memory of whole days at a time. How she'd once shown up for church on a Monday morning and had stood on the doorstep in the midst of a virtual blizzard hysterically proclaiming that the entire town was doomed to eternal hellfire for breaking the Sabbath. Finally they'd come and taken her away to Peaceful Valley Rest Home up in the Berkshires. The one time that Jill had visited her there, the confused old lady had called her Dorcas, thinking she was her mother. Perhaps the same sort of sickness was afflicting her now – hadn't she read somewhere that certain types of insanity ran in families?
As she washed her large well-rounded breasts, Jill realized that they were abnormally sore. She also seemed to have started her period, although it wasn't due for another week. Since she'd never been irregular in her life before now, she seized on this as a plausible explanation for her puzzling amnesia and determined to stop thinking about it. Obviously she'd been physically sick last night, and the memory loss was a quite natural consequence.
Feeling cleaned and almost her old self again, the twenty-two year old graduate student sat down at the tiny kitchen table to drink her coffee. Pushing all thoughts of last night's perplexing events from her mind, she attempted to immerse herself in one of the thick lawbooks she'd checked out from the library. Yesterday she'd successfully avoided her lewd distracting thoughts by involving herself in her work, but for some reason this didn't work today. All she could think about was the missed appointment with Professor Jorgensen. What on earth was she going to tell him – surely not that she'd been unable to get herself out of bed at three in the afternoon. Sickness… perhaps the flu… that sounded believable and was almost true, for she'd certainly been stricken by some sort of weird virus. Absentmindedly reaching for her cigarettes, Jill lit one and inhaled deeply. Immediately she began to tremble like a leaf as her memory suddenly came rushing back, flooding her mind with obscene, unspeakable visions that she at once recognized to be the truth.
Hashish – of course! She'd smoked hashish with the hippies across the hall, and it had caused her to lose her memory. Now Jill found herself wishing that these lurid visions had never returned; she'd almost rather not have known that she'd acted in such a despicable manner. A repulsive picture of that corrupt young brunette sucking on her naked boy friend's long thick penis flashed before her eyes, and the distressed young woman remembered how she'd sat and watched this perverted spectacle. Yes, and she'd been aroused as she watched it… she clearly recalled the urgent throbbing heat in her vagina and the way she'd furtively rubbed her burning pussy against the edge of the foam mattress. Dear God! How could she have done such a depraved thing? The very thought of it made her fair-skinned face blush beet-red with humiliation. And then what had happened next? She knew there was something more, but she couldn't recall it. And perhaps it's just as well, she decided, gulping down the rest of her coffee. If it's more obscene than that, I don't think I ever want to know about it.
In spite of her overwhelming shame, Jill's intelligent brain began working in its usual logical, analytical manner to make the reality more acceptable. Last night was in the past, and, there was no use in agonizing over it now. Today well, tonight really, was a new day, and she would soon feel her old strong self again. She'd dine with Erik, then come straight home for an early night's sleep so that she could be fresh and alert for a day-late meeting with Professor Jorgensen tomorrow. And if the disturbing memories returned, she'd wipe them out of her mind as easily as erasing chalk from a blackboard.
An hour later Jill Duncan was walking through a small park on her way to Tivoli Gardens. A light breeze wrapped the silky material of her short pale green dress around her long slender legs, clearly outlining the lines of her firm, full-fleshed thighs to the interested eyes of all passers-by. The redheaded young woman scarcely noticed their glances, for every ounce of her considerable energy was concentrated on her resolution to stifle the corrupt flames of lust that had for some reason been troubling her for the past few days – ever since she'd arrived in Denmark, in fact. From now on she was going to be pure and strong, and there would be no more inexcusable lapses like last night or the night before. When she met Erik, there would be no perverted tinglings in her body, not even if he tried to kiss her again. From now on she would be a cool and competent law student, and nothing more.
The resolute girl didn't seem to remember that just twenty-four hours before, she'd been thinking the very same thoughts as she strode through another park.
"I'll be as fat as a cow after a year in Denmark if all the food's as good as this," Jill sighed contentedly as she spooned up the last mouthful of her strawberries and rich whipped cream. "I wonder why all the Danes aren't fat?"
"Oh, we don't eat like this every day, only on special occasions," Erik explained as he stared into the sparkling green eyes of the curvaceous redhead seated across the balcony table from him.
Jill, in spite of her strenuous resolutions to remain coolly uninvolved, found herself smiling back at the handsome blond man. A pre-dinner drink and two powerful Elephant beers along with her oysters and sole meunieure had made her feel relaxed and contented; and the fairytale atmosphere of Tivoli Gardens, with its colored lights, bright flowers, and whimsical buildings, seemed to preclude any emotion except cheerful enjoyment. Even when the good-looking young man reached across the table to clasp her hand in his she did not try to draw away. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be touching him as they gazed down at a cascading fountain below their balcony seat.
"How about an after-dinner drink?" Erik suggested in a voice as soft as the subtle caresses of his warm fingers upon her palm.
Although she had planned to be home early, Jill found herself very reluctant to leave this beautiful place. Being with Erik channeled her mind away from her worries; if she tried to go to sleep now, she'd only lie awake tossing and turning as lewd visions danced before her eyes.
"That would be fun," she smiled, her sea-green eyes sparkling at the well-dressed man beside her.
"Tivoli closes at midnight," Erik told her, "but I'll ring my friend Lars who owns a club and see if he's open tonight. I can't bear for this night to end so early." He'd discovered in New York that a little sticky sweet romanticism was the key to loosening the inhibitions of certain types of American girls. Even the ones who liked to spurt Women's Lib slogans at him would grow warm and cuddly in response to his Prince Charming image; it was, after all, the ideal that had been instilled into their subconscious all during their early childhood years. Now, just as he'd suspected she would, Jill stared back at him with dreamy, star-studded eyes.
"Sure," she murmured. "I'd like to see a Danish nightclub."
"Waiter," Erik called to the whitejacketed waiter, "please bring a Cherry Herring Special for the lady. And where can I make a phone call?"
Jill watched as the tall blond Dane followed the waiter into the oriental-roofed pavilion, returning the kiss that he blew to her before vanishing behind a pillar. In principle such silly romantic gestures annoyed her, but for some reason she felt quite unlike her usual efficient, organized self tonight. Come to think of it, the attractive redhead mused to herself as she picked up the rose-colored drink the waiter had placed before her, she'd been feeling and acting very strangely ever since she'd left the United States. Could it be possible that there was a direct relationship between her strange behavior and her new home – was the climate perhaps responsible? There was something very strange about these long bright Scandinavian days with only a few hours of darkness. In one of her classes at college she'd learned about a "suicide belt" theory; apparently certain areas of the world such as Austria, Los Angeles, and part of Israel have statistically higher suicide rates than the rest of the world and some scientists attribute this fact to certain chemicals prevalent in the atmospheres of these areas. If this was true, then presumably her own sexual arousal could be caused by something along the same lines.
Shaking her auburn-haired head at her own silliness, Jill turned her attention to the delicious cherry-flavored drink and the panorama of bright lights and laughter going on below her. For once in her life she didn't want to be studious and introspective – she just wanted to enjoy herself as much as the shrieking children on the nearby roller coaster were doing… she wanted to feel alive.
From where Erik Mortensen stood inside the glass-enclosed telephone box, he could see Jill's profile clearly. He noted her expression of pleased surprise as she tasted the Cherry Herring Special he'd ordered for her. Good! It was a very powerful drink, although the vodka laced in with the cherry liqueur was barely detectable, and he knew it would make the serious American beauty lose more of her inhibitions. So far, the tall young man was more than satisfied with the way his auburn-haired date had been acting this evening, she seemed more relaxed and friendly than she had the first day he'd met her, and she looked better than ever too in that modestly cut yet sensuous silky dress that clung to her voluptuous body's curves like Saran wrap. Erik felt his long cock pulsing against his tight-fitting trousers as he dialed his friend's number. Tonight he'd get inside that sweet little pussy if it was the last thing he ever did!
"Lars Jensen?" he spoke into the receiver. "Erik here… I'm in Tivoli… yes, Tivoli, don't laugh, I'm with the most terrific piece of ass you've ever seen, and I know you've seen a lot…! Yes, that's why I'm calling. I want to bring her around to 'Club 33'… No, not like that… she'd freak out. She's an American, real uptight, you know the type. So I want to find out exactly what time the show begins, so that we can be there 'accidentally' and I can pretend I didn't plan it… 12:45? Okay, we'll be there, outside the door… Thanks, pal – just wait till you see this hot little cunt and you'll know what I'm talking about! What's on tonight anyway… REALLY? Great! That should do the trick if anything will…! Okay, Lars, see you later."
The handsome blond man replaced the receiver and turned back toward the balcony with a little smile of triumph on his face. He turned toward Jill again; she was staring out at the brightly lit park, an expression of amazed pleasure softening her beautiful features. Wait till she sees what I've got planned for her! he gloated in lewd anticipation. Then she'll really be smiling!