Don't wonder anymore.
Girl on the Torture Wheel circa 1934
Excerpt:
Claudia was wearing no brassiere. Her cupped breasts rode proudly on her chest. Jerry came out of his momentary transfixion, leaped across to Claudia and buried his face in the warm-scented, velvety valley. His lips brushed in savage hunger. His breath came in hot gasps.
The body out there on the wheel was that of Maxine LeSoir!
Jerry stood looking at her a moment, then charged. The bodies met, clung, throbbed. He lifted
her, carried her to a plush-covered sofa on one side of the room. His burning hands caressed her body that was leaping to meet his.
“I’ve waited a long time to find a man like you,” Claudia panted. “And you’ve found the woman.”
Jerry couldn’t talk. With him, actions spoke louder, more forcefully, than words.
Powerful stuff! "Laye slumped to the floor, out. He was as cold as a girl who listens to her mama."