Love Grab at the Naked Turtle

Another thought. Just what does a has-been actresses do for sexual kicks, if she has been doing what Susan has been doing for ten years, or so? He would ask her that question sometime too.

Just after six the next morning, Roger was shaken by a naked beefy guy with a large flaccid cock. "Hey, you? Hey you? Time for the lady to be going home. You take her now."

Susan was in sorry shape. They had poured straight vodka down her throat. She did not know where she was. He carried her into the house, filled the tub, and gently washed her. He filled her douche' bag twice, and used it, trying to clean out her pussy. Tenderly, he placed her on the bed, and then for the next few hours sat on the bed with her, holding her in an embrace, like a child. She seemed so small, defenseless, and delicate in his arms.

He wondered what a hundred pound woman thinks about as a two hundred and twenty pound, aggressive man lowers himself onto her, especially if she would rather not have him enter her. How can a woman handle that and be a Maneater too?

It was coming to him now. Maybe he was wrong, but it was the only thing that made sense. Under all the posturing, all the modern women's persona, a woman has a deep, animal level need to be taken, to be breed, again, and again.

Two weeks later, the male lead of Susan's next film stopped by her home.

He greeted her with a cherry, "Hello Love. I thought that I would stop by and spend some time with you so that we are more natural on screen."

Roger knew that this was Johnny Dee, known for his love of kinky sex.

To Roger, Johnny said, "Hey, Sport. In a half an hour, bring us two bloody marys to Ms. Blake's bedroom."

Susan caught Roger eye for just a moment, then spun on her heel to lead the great Johnny Dee to her bedroom.

A half-hour later Roger slowly entered the bedroom, without knocking. Susan was on her stomach, with a pillow under her ass, raising it seven or eight inches. Johnny was sharply pumping his cock into her ass, while holding himself in place by gripping her shoulders. Susan had told Roger that she got nothing out of sex in her ass, but she tolerated it because she knew that when a few men had used her that she was tighter there.

Susan eyes caught his when he placed the drinks on the nightstand. She mouthed the words, "I love you."

Eighteen months later, Susan held an envelope in her hands. "This, Mr. Roger Kovack, is my final check from California Studios. We are free."

Sandra (Susan) gave power of attorney to her attorney to sell her home. The next day Roger Kovach and Sandra Trinkowsky drove East on interstate 70. A week later there was a private marriage attended only by family.

In the summer, nobody pays much attention to the old Grady with the couple fishing on Lake Champlain. In the winter, the same boat and crew are seen in Tampa bay.

Roger has two boat dealerships, just for something to do. Folks in the know say that he has a genius with Mercruisers.

When offshore in the Gulf, Sandra likes to lie naked on the front deck. Roger will look over at her, wonder in his eyes. They are worth twelve million unbelievable dollars. She is the most beautiful, horny, woman alive. She is a Maneater, and he still hasn't the slightest idea why she loves him. Tears come to his eyes. She loves him. That's all that counts.

I'm Softly.

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