the unhatched egghead

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 THIS STORY begins with a bang . . .

 The blonde removed her bra and panties, stretched out on the bed, and wriggled her hips invitingly. The nervous youth got his legs all tangled up in his pants trying to pull them off over his shoes. Finally he stopped trying, stumbled to the bed, sat down on the edge, and took his shoes off first. He stood up, allowed the trousers to drop to the floor, and tripped out of them. He trembled under the blonde’s compelling stare as he removed his jockey shorts.

 “Ooh! Hurry up, lover!” Her voice was husky as she held up her arms to receive him.

 The youth fell on top of her, and —

 BANG!

 It was a pistol shot. It came from the next room. It brought both the youth and the blonde to their feet, startled, passion forgotten, trepidation at the unmistakable sound of the gunshot freezing them for a moment.

 The blonde, in keeping with her nature, unfroze first.

 “That was a gun being fired,” she said positively. “You’d better go see what happened, Archie.”

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