Ladies In Heat

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Two young women alone on a hot afternoon.
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Pulp Fan
Pulp Fan
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Although the characters used herein originally appeared in "The Avenger" pulp magazine in the 1940's, knowledge of The Avenger series really isn't necessary to enjoy (hopefully!) this story. As one sentence background material, The Avenger and his organization fought crime in the 1940's. There, that's all you need to know before diving in! The author makes no claim on any of the characters contained herein who originally appeared in "The Avenger" magazine.

This story is copyright 1998 by Pulp Fan; you can contact me at the email address in my profile. Permission is given to repost it, or to put it on free websites, but please don't alter the text (and please don't post it on alt.pulp, where underage folks might read it).

* * * * *

There's an old saying--if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. What it should have advised is if you can't take the heat, get out of Manhattan.

The dog days of summer had arrived with a vengeance, turning that mighty metropolis into a sweltering oven. People unfortunate to have to venture out to work were drenched in their own sweat within minutes of leaving their flats, wilting in the oppressive air. Those fortunate enough to be able to stay inside sat near open windows, whirling fans playing on them, trying to remain still while listening to the soaps on the radio, wondering what the next plot twist in "The Guiding Light" would bring, or reading the paper about the latest developments in the war over in Europe and wondering when the Axis powers would go down to final defeat--in short, doing anything other than moving out of the artificial breeze which at least brought a temporary respite from the worst of the heat.

Those who were really, really fortunate, however, were located in a warehouse in lower Manhattan. An unimpressive building on the outside, located at the end of a seemingly rundown street, a casual observer would have never guessed that inside, the building belied the dilapidated appearance of its outer shell and was, instead, the modern headquarters of one of the most elite crimefighting forces in the world. As the home base of Justice, Inc., the structure was one of the few in the city equipped with a new means of artificial cooling, called air conditioning, and those who ventured into its cavernous interior to escape the heat swiftly became reluctant to leave.

And so it was that the present two occupants of the building, both young women, were congratulating themselves at having avoided being caught up in the current plans of their co-workers--plans which had taken those same co-workers out of the cool interior of the building and into the blast furnace outside.

An hour or so earlier, three of their comrades had also been inside their HQ, together with their leader, Richard Henry Benson, better known to the world at large as The Avenger. One of the wealthiest men in the world, a terrible tragedy in which he had lost both his wife and his daughter had a profound effect on Benson, with the result that he had turned his considerable skills to fighting crime. To that end, he had gathered around him a core group of trusted allies, five of whom were lounging around with him in the building early that afternoon--Fergus MacMurdie, the dour Scot better known as Mac; Smitty, the gentle giant who could become a lethal weapon; Nellie Gray, diminutive blonde bombshell and the subject of Smitty's affections; and the husband and wife team of Josh and Rosabel Newton, the two African-American members of Justice, Inc. The crimefighting business had been slow the last couple of weeks, as no sinister masterminds intent on conquering the world--or even merely the United States--had arisen to test their mettle. With the result that the action-loving group was a little bored as they sat about the cavernous second story of the warehouse, listening to the radio and making small talk.

Mac and Josh had been the first to leave. Tired of doing nothing, the Scot had announced that he was going to pop in at his drugstore and make sure things were running smoothly there. Josh's eyes had lit up at the thought of sitting at Mac's fountain counter, eating maple-nut sundae after maple-nut sundae. Mac had muttered that it was impossible to make any money with Josh eating his entire ice cream supply, but he finally consented to Josh's coming along. Clearing it with Rosabel, Josh had eagerly accompanied the chemist when he left, telling his wife he'd be back in a few hours.

A few moments later, the phone connecting The Avenger directly with the New York police department had rung. As its jangling tones cut the air, the remaining members of Justice, Inc., stared at it intently, willing it to be something exciting to shake them out of their doldrums. Alas, it wasn't to be. Answering the phone, The Avenger exchanged a few words with a police lieutenant before hanging up.

To the disappointment of his crew, he announced, "Nothing exciting I'm afraid. There's a small matter they'd like to get my input on--and your's too, Smitty, if you feel like coming along. There's some angle to this which involves electricity."

In Smitty's case, appearances were deceiving. Though he didn't look it, his massive exterior concealed the brain of one of the country's top electrical experts. "Sure boss," he replied. "It'll be good to stretch my legs, and who knows, this might turn out to be more interesting than you think."

The Avenger had asked Nellie and Rosabel if they wanted to accompany them. The two women looked at each other, then shrugged. Sitting around HQ bored was one thing, but at least they were cool. If The Avenger didn't think this trip was likely to be interesting, they'd probably just be trading in bored but cool for bored but hot. Not an appealing proposition.

Rosabel spoke for both of them. "Thanks, but I think we'll take a flyer on this one, chief. Getting all hot without a payoff doesn't sound too enticing. Just promise to call us if something juicy develops!"

Promising to do just that, The Avenger and Smitty departed, leaving the two young women alone in the building. Sitting on divans across from each other, legs tucked under themselves, the two female members of Justice, Inc., stared at each other, contemplating the long afternoon ahead of them, ennui etched into their faces.

The two friends were a study in contrast. To call Nellie petite would have been an understatement. Barely five feet in height, weighing just over 100 pounds, she resembled nothing so much as an exquisite porcelain doll, with milky white skin and dainty features. Long blonde tresses framed her pretty face, in which her china-blue eyes sparkled. Barefoot, her tiny feet and slim calves showed beneath her skirt, while her silken blouse was stretched taut enough to reveal the shape of her petite breasts, creating a gentle swell in the material.

While Rosabel was not large, she was more solidly built than her crimefighting companion. Just over 5"6", her ebony skin was toned and fairly shone. Not an ounce of fat was on her firm frame. An onlooker could have gotten lost in her liquid, dark eyes, shining as with an inner light, giving mere hints of her mysterious depths, depths which only her husband Josh had explored. Completing the contrast to Nellie, her face was ringed with black curls, while her blouse made it abundantly clear that her firm, young breasts would be an ample pillow on which any man would love to rest his head and lips.

Nellie broke the silence first. "So, what do you want to do?" she asked, half-heartedly, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from the hem of her skirt.

"Oh, I don't know," came the equally dispirited response. Quiet reigned supreme once more for a few moments, until Nellie spoke again.

"We could bake some cookies," she suggested without a great deal of enthusiasm.

Rosabel shook her head. "No, we did that last week," she pointed out. "I don't feel like it--and no need to spoil them, we don't want them expecting us to bake stuff every time they leave us alone!"

The petite blonde nodded her agreement. "I suppose you're right," she said, lapsing into silence again. Idly she resumed toying with the material of her skirt.

Rosabel's face lit up a few moments later. "We could go shopping..."

Nellie interrupted. "Go out in this heat? You're crazy. It's taken me an hour to get cool after passing through that furnace on my way over here...I'm not going out again!"

Rosabel's face dropped. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point," she conceded. She thought for a moment. "What about playing a game?"

Nellie shrugged, less than enthused. "I don't know. What kind of game?"

"Well, you're a lot of help," laughed Rosabel. "How about backgammon?" she suggested with a grin.

Nellie snorted derisively and stuck her tongue out playfully at the other woman. "Play the backgammon queen? I remember the last time you thumped me at that game! Forget it--I'm not masochistic! What about Monopoly?"

"No," responded Rosabel. "In order to get a really good Monopoly game going, you need more than two people."

"True," Nellie admitted.

"We could always play cards," Rosabel suggested.

Nellie toyed with the idea, then nodded. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea. What do you feel like--maybe gin rummy?"

"No, never was any good at it," came Rosabel's reply. "What about poker?"

"Poker?"

"That's right, missy. You heard me, poker."

"Well, I haven't played it in ages, but I used to be pretty good at it. Good enough, I'm sure, to beat you!" Nellie finished with a smile.

"Oooh, you're scaring me!" laughed Rosabel. "Let's round us up some cards and get this game going!"

"I'll go find 'em," said Nellie, getting up.

While the petite blonde was searching for cards, the dusky negress got up and went into the kitchen. When she returned, carrying a tray, Nellie was already sitting at a table, cards in hand.

"What'd you get?" asked Nellie.

"Some wine and cheese," she responded. "Let's not sit at the table though. Let's sit on the carpet--it'll be more comfortable, I can stretch my legs out, and we can have kind of a mini-picnic!"

"That sounds swell!" agreed Nellie, getting up and plopping herself on the floor. "I'll deal the first hand while you pour!"

The name of the game was five-card draw. The wine flowed freely as the two young women played cards, laughing with glee as they would win a hand, and Rosabel soon had to get up to get a second bottle. During the course of the game, Rosabel's skirt had ridden up on her legs, sliding past her knees and revealing glimpses of her muscular thighs. Meanwhile, every time Nellie leaned forward to pick up her cards, wisps of blonde hair would fall across her face and past her shoulders, seemingly caressing her small breasts through the fabric of her blouse. Red lips wet from the wine, Nellie was a vision as she idly pushed the hair from her face.

"A straight!" cried Nellie triumphantly a short time later, laying down a five through a nine. "I win again--that's the fifth hand in a row!" She clapped her hands with glee.

"Yeah, laugh it up," admonished Rosabel goodnaturedly. "I'm only beginning to get going. What I think we need to make this more interesting are some stakes!"

"Stakes?" asked Nellie. "You mean like money?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I'd be happy to take your money, but I didn't bring my purse," Nellie admitted sorrowfully.

"Well then, lucky for you," chimed Rosabel. "Because there wouldn't be anything left in it after I finished with you!"

"Oh yeah," Nellie retorted. "Then how come I'm the one who's winning all the hands, hmm?"

"You're just lucky," Rosabel responded. "Plus we're not really playing for anything. Where's the challenge in that? If we were playing for something, it'd be a different story, my friend! I would trounce you!"

"Big talk, when you know I have no money."

A gleam came into Rosabel's eye. "Well...that's okay. I just got me an idea..."

Nellie stiffened. Something in Rosabel's attitude had changed, and she was alert for getting suckered into something. Though with the amount of the wine she'd drunk, her powers of resistance were not at their peak. "And that idea would be..." she asked cautiously.

"Well," said Rosabel coyly. "It's just a little stakes game that Josh and I play sometimes when we're alone. We play each hand like we've been doing--but the loser of each hand has to take off a piece of clothing!"

Nellie gasped in shock. "Rosabel!" she exclaimed, bringing one tiny hand to her mouth in shock, blushing furiously. Her white skin turned a pretty shade of pink. "How can you even suggest such a thing?"

"Oh, calm down," Rosabel lectured. "It's nothing to get upset over. We're just a couple of girls, there's none of the men here. Besides, it's not like we've never seen each other undressed before--we've changed clothes lots of times in front of each other before!"

"Yeah, but that was different," Nellie hurriedly explained, nervously gulping down some more wine. "Then we had to change into other outfits for a job we were doing. This is...this is...well, different!"

"Oh, it's no different," Rosabel retorted. "C'mon, a moment ago you were crowing about how good you were, and now you're too scared to play for some stakes? What about putting your money--or rather your clothing--where your mouth is?"

"I am _not_ too scared!" Nellie protested. "It's just that, well, it's just such a crazy idea! And besides, we don't have that many clothes on. What do we do when we finish the game, put our clothes back on and play again? The whole thing is crazy!"

"Well, I could tell you what Josh and I do when we finish the game!" As soon as the words had passed her lips, Rosabel burst out laughing, scarce believing that she had said it. If the buzz in her head wasn't sufficient proof, that statement was--she was well on her way to having too much to drink. She held a hand to her mouth and stifled some giggles. "Though usually we don't wait to finish the game!"

Nellie gasped in shock again, blushing even more furiously, her pretty blue eyes making a nice contrast to her pink cheeks. "Rosabel! How could you say that!"

Rosabel emptied her wine glass. Pouring herself another, she shrugged, still giggling. "Oh, I don't know...but what's the harm? He's my husband, it's not like it's any great secret we do stuff together. I'll tell you what--if someone loses all their clothes and then loses another hand, they have to answer any question the other person asks them. Sort of like the 'I dare you' games people played in high school. And also, if you lose a hand, you don't just lose a piece of clothing, you have to down a decent slug of wine."

Still pink, Nellie protested once more. "Oh, Rosabel, I don't know. What if the men come back?"

"Honey," Rosabel replied. "The men won't be back for the rest of the afternoon. Josh will eat sundaes until the cows come home, and with nothing going on here, Mac'll just do some of his chemical stuff at his store. And you know that every time the chief goes to police headquarters, whether it's important or not, they all want to talk to him forever. Besides, we'll know on the surveillance cameras when they return, and we'll have plenty of time to get dressed. I just think you're chicken."

"I am _not_ chicken," Nellie stated emphatically, wringing her hands together nervously. "It's just that...oh...I don't know."

"You are _to_ chicken!" exclaimed Rosabel. "Why think, just a few moments ago you were up on your high horse gloating whenever you won a hand, but now that the time comes to put up or shut up, you're running scared. Chicken!"

Trembling a little, Nellie gulped down some more wine for courage. "Oh, all right then, you win. I must be crazy! I'll play your stupid game--and I'll beat you just as bad as I was beating you before!"

"That's the spirit!" cried Rosabel. "Just to make it fair though, we should start with the same number of clothes. I'm wearing five things. You?"

Nellie nodded as she filled her and Rosabel's glasses. "Five also. It's your deal," she finished, handing her the cards.

Rosabel shuffled and dealt the cards. Nellie looked at her hand. A pair of eights, including an eight of spades, a nine and a jack of spades, and a four of diamonds. She stared at the cards, then across the floor at Rosabel, sitting there looking intently at her own hand. Rosabel was right, playing for stakes definitely heightened the tension when it came to decision time.

"I'll take three," she announced, holding on to the pair. Rosabel dealt Nellie her cards, then announced that she would also take three and dealt them to herself. The two woman picked up their new cards, rearranged their hands.

"Well?" asked Rosabel, licking her lips a bit nervously.

"Three eights," replied Nellie, laying her hand down.

"Damn," muttered Rosabel. "Beats me. I've got a pair of queens." She tossed her hand down.

Though she had resisted the idea of playing the game, Nellie clapped with glee, flushed with her early success. "Told you I'd beat you if we played for stakes!" she crowed. "C'mon, c'mon, let's lose something here! And don't forget to drink your wine!"

"Hold your horses, hold your horses, I'm going." Rosabel drained her wine glass, then stood up and unfastened her skirt. Stepping out of it, she tossed it on a divan, standing clad before Nellie in her blouse and a knee-length slip. "Happy now?" she asked, sitting back down again. The slip rode up on her as she settled in, revealing her brown thighs.

"Um hmm," replied Nellie, smiling as she shuffled. "Just remember whose idea this was!"

The cards were dealt. Rosabel looked at hers in dismay--no pairs and no good flush or straight opportunities. Holding onto an ace of hearts, she called for four cards. Nellie dealt them to her and took one card for herself.

Looking at her hand, Rosabel was relieved to see that she'd drawn another ace. "Pair of aces," she announced, laying them down, hopeful that Nellie had been going for a straight or a flush and hadn't hit it.

Nellie smiled at her. "Too bad, my friend. My sevens and tens trounce your aces," she said, revealing two pairs. "Here, let me fill your glass for you again," she said happily, sipping some wine herself.

Rosabel unbuttoned her blouse, shrugged it off her shoulders and threw it onto the divan next to her skirt. Her large breasts were encased in a lacy black bra, thrusting them up and emphasizing her cleavage. Though it had been her idea to play for these stakes, she felt a little uncomfortable exposed this way in front of Nellie and quickly took her drink of wine, nervously cleaning some traces of it off her lips with her tongue.

"Gee, Rosabel," Nellie said slyly with false concern, feeling a little cocky from winning two hands in a row, assisted by the buzz she had from the wine. "I hope you won't get too cold in a few hands when you won't have your clothes on anymore!"

"Ha, ha," replied the black woman as she dealt the next hand. "Just remember--it's not how you start the race, it's how you finish it."

Nellie looked at her cards, saw that she had two pairs again, this time threes and fives. She drew one card, while across from her Rosabel smiled.

"I don't want any cards," Rosabel said. "What do you have?"

There was a sinking feeling in Nellie's stomach as she looked at the card she'd drawn, a king.

"Two pair."

"Well, then," Rosabel said, laying a straight down with a flourish. "You know the rules--loser strips! And don't _you_ forget to take a drink this time!"

"I'm still up two to one on you!" Nellie retorted as she stood and removed her skirt, revealing the slip underneath it. She tucked her dainty feet underneath her, sitting on her haunches, as she shuffled and dealt the cards.

The two young women split the next two hands. Rosabel took off her slip, revealing a pair of black panties matching the lace pattern on her bra, while Nellie removed her blouse. Beneath it she wore a white bra, cupping her small, firm breasts. When she saw the color of Nellie's bra, Rosabel laughed, exclaiming that their choices of underwear that day were colorized just like they were. Nellie failed to see the humor in that, particularly when she lost the next hand and had to remove her slip, exposing the white panties she had on underneath it. The petite blonde sat back down, hands on her thighs, the loser of two hands in a row.

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