Free Seeds Of Fear by Jeff Gelb, Michael Garrett Page A

good; that would help!
    Without hesitation, he strode down the carpeted hallway to her bedroom and threw the door open.
    Donna Callaghan, no more than six feet away, was the most naked human being Andy Chalminski had ever seen. His eyes, his mind, and his glands described her that way to him and couldn't have listened to any quibbling about degrees of nudity if Andy's life had depended on it. There was just so much more of Donna than of any other woman he had even heard about that the sight of her simultaneously supercharged all his senses and threatened to short-circuit them—and the almost seven-foot giantess certainly fulfilled the little Chalminski's fondest hopes of being well-proportioned for her size. Gaping up at Donna, he discovered fat only where fat was supposed to be, and he was reminded of old Playboy pictures he'd seen of Jayne Mansfield—except Mansfield probably hadn't broken the tape bustwise in the low to middle fifties!
    "I was lookin' for the b-bathroom," Andy stammered.
    "I was trying to d-decide," Donna said, waving an arm longer than some women's legs at a sweater and pair of shorts on her bed, "whether to put these on. Or n-not to wear anything." Her words were still slurring on her, but she was definitely aware she was naked even if she made no move to cover herself. Instead she was taking a somewhat off-balance step forward, standing at the foot of the bed, raising her arms to Andy. She wasn't remotely crude about the way she added, "I definitely do like men who aren't as tall."
    This was the producer's cue to produce, Chalminski knew—the time any man worth spit encircled the bare-ass girl with his arms and kissed her lips. But there was no way possible for him to wrap his arms around the part of Callaghan facing him, and—
    Donna caught the small-man's hands in her enormous ones, fell back on her bed and took Chalminski along with her. One of his wide-open eyes wound up staring into her navel, and the incredibly generous breasts above him, standing straight up without a bra, made it impossible for him to see her distant face. He thought for a moment she'd passed out. That, combined with his total awareness of where his hands had fallen when they landed hard on the reinforced and ultra-king-sized bed—between her beautiful and impossibly long legs—finally directed a completely uncluttered message to Andy's brain and his body.
    He got out of his clothes in record time thanks to the easy way one button on his sport jacket and two on his shirt popped away, and he didn't look down again at the warmly furry place where his hands had been. If she was virginal and everything he had read about feminine parts proved to be wrong, he might have to be Superman to help Donna Callaghan complete the rest of her audition.
    After climbing her and resting with a blend of near overawe and definite readiness on Donna's impressive bosom, Andy craned his neck in order to kiss her and also learn if she was conscious. Her eyes were closed, but when he pressed his lips to hers, her tongue shot out of her mouth like a projectile at the identical instant her heavy-thighed legs ascended from the bed and crossed Andy's ass. She may be a virgin, Chalminski thought, mouth full of exploring female tongue that might become the most famous one in the world, but her instincts work like a fuckin' computer —
    But he also realized he was what seemed like three miles too far north to do what she suddenly wanted him to do!
    "Andy, Andy," she moaned, opening her marvelous blue eyes and staring myopically at the way he was pinned to the upper half of her body like a teddy bear in some little girl's dream of tomorrow, "go ahead! Do it! Do it to me!"
    The circulation in Andy's ass, legs, and other parts was being shut off, and the passion that had let him overcome his initial sense of inferiority was slipping out of him like air from a balloon, but Chalminski was game. "I'm willing, babe," he managed, struggling against her gorgeous