High Score Read Online Free Page B

set in. Feeling twitchy, she prowled the house, searching for some means of relief. While running a load of dirty clothes through the washer, she sat atop the machine during the spin cycle, but the vibrations only made her condition worse. Desperately, she rummaged through the vegetable bin in the refrigerator, but only found lettuce and broccoli—no zucchini, no carrots, no cucumbers. Obviously, she was behind in her grocery shopping.
    By nine that night, she gave up on Dickie. Obviously, the louse had forgotten his promise to call and arrange to come over.
    Feeling stymied, she tried watching late-night TV, but couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was trying something a little kinky, something out of the ordinary. Taking a hot bath and playing with herself under water was okay up to a point. She enjoyed the orgasm, but it didn’t do much to diminish her wild urges.
    She still thought incessantly about pleasures of the flesh. Desperation led to panic.
    Am I becoming a nyphmo? A sex addict?
    * * * * *
    Answering phones all day Monday at the Toyota dealership where she worked was sheer torture. She couldn’t wait to get home, grab a snack and start reading the second book. Maybe not such a good idea, considering the state she was in, but she couldn’t resist. The problem had become bigger than she was.
    A man was what she really needed. A man with magic in his fingers. A man who knew his way around a woman’s body.
    Granted, she had a fiancé she could call on, but no way would she call Dickie until he contacted her first with an apology for standing her up on Sunday. If his friends were more important than she was, he could go sit on a tack!
    Sure enough, the fictionalized anecdotes in the second book describing various sexual games left her squirming with damp panties and a state of undiminished ardor. The idea of wild sex with vegetables lost ground to higher technology. If she couldn’t have a real live man between her legs, she would settle for nothing less than an animated object with moving parts. Was she going to have to humiliate herself by going back to High Score and buying a mechanized dildo?
    When she finally stumbled on the perfect solution, she slapped her forehead. How stupid could she be? Was she the only woman in town who hadn’t instantly recognized a muscle massager for what it really was? She wouldn’t have to suffer the knowing look of Thor Ryersson as she made an embarrassing purchase. She could head for the local discount store and look for a bargain in the small appliance department.
    That night she took a massager to bed with her. The cool sheets had a sensual effect on her feverish skin. She applied the buzzing metal probe, sans attachments, to the cluster of ultra-sensitive nerves between her legs.
    She yelped and arched off the bed. Too strong! After experimenting with various settings, she found the perfect combination. Tingling, quivering, shuddering stimulation drew her into a vortex of pleasure.
    Ahh, yesssss!
    As delicious tremors spread throughout her lower body, sexual fantasies in vivid color reeled through her mind…
    A Viking looking a lot like Thor Ryersson, dressed in animal skins and studded leather belts, stalks her across the barren wasteland. She tries to hide in a ravine, but as he gets closer and closer, she knows it’s no use—he’s bound to discover her.
    Her nakedness is cloaked with her hip-length hair. She shivers with dread as she watches the entrance to the ravine. A sound tells her she isn’t alone. She whirls to find the menacing Viking looming from behind. He seizes her and binds her arms behind her back. Helplessly, she kicks out at him, but he is huge and unbelievably strong. She might as well kick a boulder.
    He throws her over his shoulder and hikes out of the ravine. He drops her on a bed of animal furs spread out on the sand. Darkness falls. As he builds a fire, she watches his every move. The red light of the flames outlines his