A New Life For Julie Ch 01

Chapter 1 - A New Life For Julie

Late August, 1976

Julie drove west on State 101 in her red Volkswagen Beetle convertible. The instructions he had given her were pretty simple: "Go west on 101, take the Las Virgenes exit. Keep going, it becomes Malibu Canyon Road. Eventually you get to Pacific Coast Highway. The university will be right there at the corner. Turn right and head north on Pacific Coast Highway, drive about 20 more minutes out past Malibu, make a left on Oleander, drive until you get to the beach. It's the only driveway on the beach side."

"You can't miss it--it's the only house at the end of the road," he told her.

She found the house easily enough. It was in one of the few areas along the beach which had not been completely developed with expensive beachfront property. She pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. She was nervous. The ad in the newspaper was for free lodging "for the right person", in exchange for housekeeping.

The house was fairly large--a modern beach house with about 2000 square feet she guessed, but nowhere near as large as many of the houses in the area. She knocked on the door. She could hear a radio playing loud inside. It was "I Only Want to Be With You" by the Bay City Rollers. No one answered. She knocked again, much harder, and waited. She knocked one more time, and just as she was about to turn away, the door opened.

A middle-aged man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, stood in the doorway. He had penetrating grey eyes. His dark hair was parted in the middle and combed back. He was clean-shaven and wore tight white slacks, and a loose-fitting colorful, short-sleeved shirt, with the top three buttons open, revealing a tanned chest. The thing that struck her most about him though was the feeling of absolute masculine self-confidence which he seemed to have.

"Hi," she stammered. "I'm here about the ad?"

"Oh, sure. My name is Bruce. Bruce Oliver."

"I'm Juliet Lewis," she replied as she shook his hand.

He invited her in, and she followed him into the house. The house was a typical California beach house. There was a large cylindrical entryway with a stairway that followed the curved wall upwards. Windows placed high on the curved wall flooded the interior with light. She followed him into the kitchen and he motioned her to take a seat at a small two-person table in a curved nook with a magnificent view of the beach.

"Okay Juliet, can I get you anything? A beer?" he asked.

"Oh no. I'm only 18, and you can just call me Julie," she replied.

"That's old enough in my book, Julie, he said. "You sure you don't want a beer or something else?"

"No, that's okay."

"Okay then! He said, sitting down. "Let's get down to business. Here's what I'm looking for. I need someone's help keeping the place clean. Just helping pick things up--especially after a party. Helping to cook a little, clean the bathrooms and so on. You would also do the shopping. I guess I just need a woman's touch around here. In exchange, you get free room and board. You don't have to pay rent, or electricity, phone or food. You pretty much have the run of the place. The only thing you have to pay for is your car and transportation, and any personal items."

He watched her as he talked. She was easily the prettiest young lady he had interviewed yet, in spite of her conservative attire, glasses, and hair tightly tied back.

"That sounds like a great deal," she gushed.

"There is something you need to be aware of though," he added.

She looked apprehensive, waiting for him to speak.

Bruce was silent a minute. He really wanted her to stay, but he was afraid of scaring her away. There was no way around it though--better to tell her the truth now, rather than have her move in and run off within the first week.

"I live, he paused groping for the right words, "a modern lifestyle. Well frankly, I have a very active and open love life. I have a lot of women over, and we don't always just have sex in the bedroom."

"Oh," she said, her face turning red.

"And, I'm a freelance photographer and I specialize in pictorials for major men's magazines among other things, so I have a lot of models over. I have a photography studio right here in the house. I also have a lot of parties, and there's always a lot of sex."

Bruce paused and studied her red face--afraid she might bolt at any moment.

"Would it bother you to live like that?"

She thought for a minute, taking a deep breath. She really needed a place to stay. As of tonight, she had no where to stay, and only $10 left in her purse, and not much gas left in her car. This situation was perfect for her: close to the university, room and board paid for by labor only, and a beautiful house by the beach to live in. In spite of her limited experience, she knew she would not find another opportunity like this one.

Juliet had very little sexual experience, and Bruce's description of his love life intimidated her, but she knew she could not afford pass up this opportunity. She had counted on finding someplace affordable quickly, but had been ignorant of the lack of affordable housing in Southern California. Although she had been in the area for three days, everything she had found had been far more expensive than she had expected, and she had already blown through all her money.

"No, I guess not, as long as I'm not forced to do anything," she answered.

"Oh, I promise you that won't happen! In this house, sex takes place only between consenting adults, and nobody does anything they don't want to do."

"Okay then," she said, feeling a flush of relief course through her body.

"You would be free to join any time though..."

"Oh no, I couldn't do something like that she said," her voice sounding panicky.

"...but you would never be expected to of course. This is a house of free choice."

She looked relieved, and now that he had told her, he decided to switch the subject.

"Well, tell me about yourself," he suggested.

"Well, I'm 18, and I'm starting school at the University in a few weeks. I have a trust an uncle left me when he died, but the only stipulation is that I keep a good overall GPA--2.5 or better, and I go to school where he went. The trust will pay for four years of tuition and books, but nothing else."

"My parents died in a car crash when I was a little girl. I barely remember them. My baby brother died in the same accident. I stayed with my grandparents, but grandpa died when I was about 10, and grandma died a few years ago, and my aunt and uncle kept me until I graduated from High School. They were very conservative and religious. My grandpa left me the trust to go to college. He died about a year ago. My aunt hated me though, so it was good to get out," she concluded.

"And I have no one, and no where to go," she thought to herself.

Bruce felt sorry for the poor girl. She'd had so many people die on her.

"Tell me, he asked her, "I'm curious--you've got a dark complexion and black hair, but yet you have green eyes. What is your ethnic background?"

"Well, my mother was from Italy, and my father was mostly Irish. They were both Catholic."

"I'll bet you look more like your mother," Bruce grinned.

"How did you know?"

"Just a lucky guess," he shrugged.

"Except that my eyes are from my father's side."

"Okay, he said, standing up. "Would you like to look at the house?"

She nodded eagerly and Bruce showed her around the house. He showed her a large room that had been converted into a photography studio. There were various backgrounds along one wall, lots of lighting fixtures and camera equipment, and furniture, and a darkroom off to one side.

"I like to do a lot of my work here, but sometimes I use other parts of the house or out on the beach. This stretch of the beach is pretty secluded compared to most homes on the beach, because we're a bit to the north, and I own the beach right down to the water. I can't stop people from walking along it though, but mostly it's pretty quiet."

In addition, there was also a dining room, a family room with a fireplace, which had huge windows all along two walls with views of the beach, as well as a door that opened up to a large wrap-around deck on the beach side of the house.

Next, he showed her upstairs. The stairs wrapped around the cylindrical entryway, which almost reminded her of a grain elevator, except that their were windows up near the top. The stairs opened up to a large master bedroom on the next level. The master-bedroom had an adjoining study, and a bathroom. There was a spa right in the bedroom, and a king-sized bed. There was also a sliding glass door that opened to a balcony that overlooked the beach.

"This is my room," Bruce said. He explained that she would not be expected to clean his room as part of the deal. "It's okay to come in here, but stay out of the study," he told her.

They stepped out of the room, and continued up the stairs. The stairs continued up one more level, and opened up to a large rooftop deck, which also had an outdoor fireplace/barbeque pit. There were also numerous deck chairs scattered around.

"This is where we have a lot of our parties," Bruce said.

He showed her some rooftop planters that would need watering, and then took her back downstairs into the entryway which had a hall branching off which went up a few stairs, and led to a bathroom, and two bedrooms. She could hear "Show Me the Way" by Peter Frampton playing on the radio in the living room.

"This is Jack's bedroom, Bruce said, pointing to a room on the left. He's a friend of mine, and a student like you. So he's my roommate. I let him stay here because his father's a friend and major client of mine. But he helps take care of the cars, any repair work that needs to be done, takes care of any landscaping, and runs errands for me."

He pointed to the last door in the hallway. "This is your room," he indicated, showing her through the doorway.

She entered. It was a medium sized bedroom. It was furnished with a full-sized bed, a dresser, and a small desk. It was on a corner, and she had large windows along two walls. There was a closet as well.

Juliet walked around the room. It would be perfect, she thought. She looked out the windows at the setting sun over the ocean.

Bruce studied her. She was obviously very modest, shy and self-conscious. She wore her black hair in a tight bun, and wore baggy clothes. She was obviously not used to the warmer weather this far south. She also had large glasses which obscured her beautiful face. He could tell though, that she had an angelic face and a fantastic body underneath. He had photographed and fucked enough women to know a good looker when he saw one--even covered up. He could tell she had a pair of large firm tits under that baggy sweater, even though she was obviously self-conscious about them--he noted that she not only wore a baggy top, but frequently held her arms folded over her chest.

He studied her face as she looked out the window. Her hair was very dark--jet black in fact, and looked thick even though it was pulled up in a tight bun, which barely contained the thick wavy locks that seemed as if they were trying to burst free. Her face was very pretty behind the large glasses. Her mouth was wide and her lips were full and sensuous--he imagined them wrapped around his cock. She had a slight overbite with her front teeth, with a tiny gap between them. Most striking were her eyes--they were fairly large for her face, and a beautiful jade green color. With her black hair and dark complexion, one would expect brown eyes.

He hoped she would accept his offer. She was easily the most beautiful woman who had responded to the ad. Two of the women who had responded were fat and ugly, another one was too old, and still another was not bad looking, but had stormed off after a few days when she walked in the kitchen and found a beautiful blonde on her knees giving him a blowjob. Bruce had to have women around him who were beautiful, and they had to at least be able to tolerate his lifestyle, even if they didn't want to participate in the fun.

They went back to the living room, and Bruce showed her the deck outside. It was a fairly large deck, that wrapped around two sides of the house. They walked along the side by the family room, and went around the corner. There was a hot tub at the end of the tub, and Julie's windows to her room were a story above it.

It was a hot day, even by the ocean, and Julie was forced to pull her sweater off. Bruce watched intently as her sweater went up, concealing her face for a moment and hiding his staring at her tits as they jutted out as she lifted her arms over her head. Yes, she definitely had an amazing set of tits. Under her sweater she wore a T-shirt that was somewhat sweaty. He looked away to make sure she wouldn't catch him staring. He didn't want to scare her away.

Julie considered the arrangement. Her college was about a half-hour away, which wasn't too bad. She asked him if there were any employment opportunities nearby.

"The only employment I know of, around here, for a young woman like you, are things I don't think you're ready to do. However, if you do a few extra tasks around here, I'll throw in a little bit of money also--say, $30 a month?"

"Like what?" she asked, apprehensive.

"Take care of my laundry, clean up my bedroom and bathroom, a few other things like that," he replied.

Sensing an opportunity to negotiate, she pushed it a bit.

"How about $50?"

"Sure," he said. He was determined to get her in, and he actually would have been willing to pay more, but he didn't say so.

That sealed the deal. Her tuition, books and school supplies were paid for with the trust. Her room and board were taken care of now, as well as a little bit of spending money for gas and other things. It was doubtful if she could find any deal like this anywhere--a beautiful beach house with her own room, and she didn't have to pay anything--just keep the place cleaned up and do all the housework.

"When can I move in?" she asked.

"Right now," he said.

So she started her life living at Bruce Oliver's home and studio. She started college a week later, and during her freshman year, focused on her grades and fulfilling her end of the bargain to Bruce.

For the first few months, Bruce was gone a great deal on business. She met and sometimes saw Jack, the other roommate, but he was usually closed up in his room working on homework himself, or doing things outside, or gone.

The first week after she moved in, she was out in the living room watching TV, when she noticed a magazine on the coffee table. Out of curiosity, she took a look.

It was a heavy, glossy magazine.

"PENTHOUSE" the cover read. On the cover was a beautiful half-naked woman, dressed in only her underwear. She had on a white bra, panties, with straps going from a belt around her waist to a pair of white stockings near the bottom of the cover. She was turned to the side somewhat, and looking at something she was holding.

Out of curiosity, she thumbed through it carefully, tentatively, slowly turning the pages. She was fascinated by the soft focus pictorials of the nude and semi nude women. She wondered what it would be like to pose for that, while someone took pictures of her. But who did she think she was kidding? She was not the kind of woman who was sought out for this sort of thing. Who would want to look at pictures of her? She envied the free and open sexuality of the models.

She read the magazine cover to cover, and was especially fascinated by the letters and the Xavier Hollander column--"Call me Madam."

She was startled by the sound of the door opening. Fearful of being caught with the magazine, she hurriedly threw it back on the coffee table and pretended she was just watching television. Jack came in and nodded to her before heading for his bedroom.

A week later though, on a day when she was alone in the house, she found Bruce's pile of back issues, as well as many other magazines, when she went up to his room to gather his laundry and clean up. She covertly took some to her room to read and look through in the privacy.

She also tried to do most of the housework when no one was around, and that was no problem at first. When Bruce or Jack was home, she shyly kept to her room and worked on homework--feeling self-conscious living in someone else's house. The situation did not remain that way however.

Julie came home from school one warm afternoon in late September. She went to her room, and studied for her history class. It was hot, so she reluctantly changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She didn't like dressing so immodestly, but it was so hot today. After about an hour, she put her books down and decided to do some chores around the house. She swept the kitchen floor, and then decided to water the planters up on the roof. She filled her pitcher in the kitchen sink then went up the stairs.

As she walked up the stairs with the pitcher of water, she passed Bruce's room. The door was ajar. Some moaning sounds caught her attention.

She paused and peeked inside out of curiosity. What she saw nearly made her drop the pitcher of water. She couldn't see him, but it must have been Bruce. He was laying down, and there was a beautiful Asian woman straddling his face. She was bent over with her head bobbing up and down over his crotch. Juliet looked closer--it was his cock!

Julie jerked back quickly, hoping that they had not seen her, but no--they were definitely too involved in what they were doing. Curiosity got the better of her, and she cautiously peaked once again around the door frame.

The Asian woman was moaning as her lips slid up and down, over and over. Juliet's eyes roved over her writhing body. Her bare ass was undulating as Bruce's hands circled her waist, striving to hold her still to keep his mouth on her cunt. She remembered reading something about a "sixty-nine" in the Penthouse Letters and realized this was what she was witnessing.

Juliet was mesmerized, and couldn't take her eyes away. After a few minutes, her free hand crept down and slipped into her pants. Her eyes remained locked on the sight before her. The woman's beautiful face plunged up and down, each time, the cock pushed out her cheek. The woman moaned again in pleasure.

Julie fingered her wet pussy. She knew she shouldn't be watching such a private moment, but she couldn't stop.

Up and down the Asian woman's head bobbed on Bruce's cock. Suddenly the pitcher of water slipped from the fingers of Julie's free hand. The pitcher was only a few inches from the floor anyway, so it dropped with a barely perceptible thump, and didn't spill, but it was just loud enough to catch the attention of the Asian woman on the bed.

The woman paused and looked up, and caught a glimpse of Juliet standing in the doorway. She pulled her mouth off of Bruce's dick with a pop, and looked at Juliet, and then her eyes turned back down to the cock in front of her. She gave the stiff member a long lick, and then motioned for Juliet to come in with a movement of her head, flicking her eyes back and forth between Julie and the member she held in her hands.

For a moment, Juliet froze--staring into the other woman's eyes with the throbbing cock right in front of her mouth. For a brief moment, she thought: "Why not?" Why not walk on in, shed her clothes, and take that beautiful prick right into her mouth? She was being invited.

Julie felt her heart race and panic gripped her. She backed quickly away, nearly stumbling down the stairs, then grabbed her pitcher and dashed up the stairs to the rooftop patio. When she reached the top she stopped, panting and leaning against the wall, trying to gather her composure.

Then she watered the planters and cleaned out the rooftop fireplace/barbeque pit. She picked up the beer bottles that were scattered around, and swept up the remains from the rooftop party Bruce had held the night before. Julie, as usual, had stayed in her room the whole time--too shy to come out.