Bob couldn't understand why his wife had become frigid. Was it him; he did have a queen in his closet. His secretary, Janice, however, knew they needed a coming together, and the ensuing swap parties raised a hell of a lot more than just eyebrows! Aside from the straight-out, massive doses of pure sex, though, a lot more was accomplished: Bob and Barbara did come together . . . and kept coming! As Dr. Benjamin Morse states in The Sexual Revolution, there are functional aspects to wife swapping: "By making extra-marital sex a function of the marital union, guilt is assuaged, deception is removed, and the marriage-shattering elements of infidelity are eliminated."
CHAPTER ONE
Bob Miller leaned tensely over the big, polished desk in his office and put the finishing argument against the merger down on paper. The pen dragged heavily across the ruled yellow paper of the legal pad. His fingers ached, and his wrists were cramped. He hadn't done so much writing since he was in school.
He glanced at his watch, taking time to massage his aching head with his fingertips. Five minutes to four. He'd make it. Another burst of scribbling, and he was done. Then an hour for Janice to type it, and it would be in Mr. Crandall's hands for overnight study before the round of conferences began in the plush rooms upstairs and the crucial meeting on Friday.
Bob worked fast, feeling the closing paragraph coming to his mind with startling clarity like the last pieces of an angular, jumbled puzzle that showed a placid meadow full of butterflies instead of the Devil's sanctuary.
When he was finished, he leaned back in the swivel chair, propped his feet on the desk, and tossed the pen toward the pad with a loud groan of accomplishment. He stayed that way a moment with his eyes closed, letting the tension drain out of him. He dreamed of a cool martini, a steak, and a slow, lazy-wild fuck in bed that would knock him out and make him sleep like a baby for at least two weeks.
He dreamed of it, but he knew he wouldn't get it. Not from his wife.
He swung his legs, and his feet thumped to the floor. He scowled across the room, and his eyes focused on the picture of Barbara. Her face smiled up from the Florentine frame that didn't match anything else in his office.
Vacantly, his eyes lingered on her dark hair. Each strand was neatly in place for the most sophisticated effect. He saw the diamond choker and the mink stole around her shoulders-each rented for the occasion despite his half-hearted protests about putting on too much dog just for a damned picture.
"But it's for your new office, darling," she'd said. Antiseptic kiss on the cheek. "Aren't you proud of the way I look?"
The lips stretched thin over even teeth in an unnatural grimace that was supposed to be a smile. The dark eyes glinted in the photographer's lights like two stones misplaced from the choker. He suddenly remembered her victory cry when he'd told her of the promotion.
"Barbara, you've arrived!" And then the afterthought: "Thanks to you, of course, darling."
Bob thumbed the button that would summon his secretary, jabbing at it like a man locked in an elevator wanting to get out.
"Yes, Mr. Miller," Janice bubbled, coming through the door with a swish of her hips.
She approached his desk, her short skirt riding high and carefree on her thighs, and stood in front of him with one hip canted slightly in a relaxed pose. She smiled down at him prettily, waiting.
Bob looked up, studying her without meaning to. The contrast with Barbara was astonishing. He'd begun noticing it lately. It wasn't only the blonde hair. Nor the way it swung around her face and shoulders in a totally unsophisticated manner. It wasn't the jut of her firm tits under the tight blouse, nor the pert swell of her rounded ass. It was everything put together-everything that made her Janice Walters instead of Barbara Miller.
And she oozed and smelled of free, bubbly, uncomplicated sex every time Bob turned around and bothered to notice.
"I'm finished, Jan," he said, swallowing and averting his eyes. He handed the yellow pages to her and noticed the edges were trembling. "It's your baby now."
She looked at the paper and the shaking of his hand before taking them from him.
"You look like you need a good stiff drink, Mr. Miller," she said lightly. "I'll cover for you if you want to leave early. I know this has been a lot of work for you. It isn't the most popular position, you know. It seems like everybody is talking about the merger. Honestly, though, you'd think the girls knew more about this business than the President and the Board put together."
Bob laughed--an odd sound, full of tension. "Don't they always? Secretaries, wives ... what have you?"
She settled her buttock on the edge of the desk, holding the papers across her tits as if hiding them from him in a taunting way.
"I don't, Mr. Miller," she said. "Whatever Wally does at his office is strictly none of my business. I've seen too many wives and private secretaries and girl friends and all the rest of them push their men into things that aren't right- and they don't know the first thing about what they're doing when they do it, know what I mean?"
Bob couldn't look at her. "Yes," he said. "I know what you mean."
She lingered a moment longer, watching him, wanting him to respond a little more. When he didn't, she got off the front of his desk and smoothed the skirt over her hips with an abandoned motion calculated to make him watch. He did.
"I'll type this and send it right to Mr. Crandall," she said, smiling brightly again. "Meanwhile, you'd better put your coat on and go on home."
"Why?"
He looked up, startled. He'd said it, but it wasn't his voice. It wasn't something he'd say--not with that kind of vehemence. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Bob swallowed again. Now she knew. He could see in her eyes that she knew, and she was pleased with the knowledge that he had nothing worthwhile to go home to.
"Maybe I'll buy you that drink after work myself," she said, her voice strangely low. "I'd be sure you got it."
He picked up the pen and fiddled with it, trying to laugh and sound casual.
"Maybe we should," he said. "I'd buy, of course-a reward for giving you this last-minute job. I hope I've given you enough time."
"Only for the typing, Mr. Miller," she bantered. "I'll call Wally and tell him I'm going to be late tonight--that my boss is keeping me overtime. He won't mind at all."
Bob raised his hand and opened his mouth to protest, but she'd already turned and was halfway to the door, and no sound came out. He watched the way his cock jumped in his pants at the sight of her slim waist and what the dress did to her full figure. The door closed, and he passed his hand over his forehead.
He could always back out; that wasn't the problem. He could always explain being late to Barbara; that wasn't the problem, either.
He got up from his desk and paced over to the window. He looked down into the street at the cars and people milling below. He breathed deeply and let his breath out in a long sigh.
What is the problem, Miller? he thought.
He turned his head and looked at his wife's picture again. Her eyes seemed to follow him about the office no matter where he stood in it. She was watching him through her goddamn picture. She was waiting for him to do something else so that she could turn the rheostat on her cunt down to deep-freeze for the next three weeks. Down from very-cold.
He strode over to the photograph angrily and slammed it onto its face, not caring if he broke the glass.
Guilt, Miller! That's the problem!
He poured ice-water from his Insulating Pitcher Designed For Important Executives that Barbara had also given him and gulped it down, feeling it hit his empty, tension-twisted stomach like a ball of lead that threatened to bounce back up.
He sat back down at his desk and put the pad of paper away. The pen followed. He chucked three rumpled sheets into the wastebasket and wound the Roman-faced clock sitting on one corner of the desk.
The actions were all performed mechanically. He didn't even know how much time stretched between each one. He sat in a stupor, his mind cranking out scenes from the past-imaginary, real... it didn't matter.
What did matter was the question, how long should the punishment last for a stupid, meaningless act that happened ages ago and would have stayed forgotten but for Barbara's constant reminding him of it?
Or did she even know? Maybe he was so strung up that he only suspected she knew when she really didn't. Maybe it was his own sense of guilt that was punishing him instead of her.
Then she was truly a bitch for the way she acted.
He dwelt on the thought. He elaborated on it and strengthened it in his mind. He sat with his chin in his hand and justified why, on this night, he would go out with his secretary and have a drink with her and maybe--if things worked out right all around--maybe even take her some place cozy and lie in bed with her and fuck her blind.
Janice would love it. He could tell by the way she moved, the way she talked to him. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted his cock to grow hard in her hands while she felt under his balls with her fingers and tickled his asshole and imprisoned the shaft of his prick between her lush, soft tits, running it up and down the silky valley between them and licking at the tip of his prick when it peeped out.
Janice would even suck him off--all the way, no letting go with her warm mouth and letting it spray over his belly!
Bob's prick stretched like a cat and roared in his pants like a tiger, throbbing, full, stiff, as it hadn't been in years with Barbara. He felt it bucking, wanting a soft, slick-tissued pussy to ram into--one that was wet and hot and ready for a good, hard round of fucking.
The thought of Barbara's dry cunt repulsed him. He always had to jab and push and strain to get his prick into her. Under the covers. Listening to her groan and bitch about the way it hurt, until his dick sagged and went limp and the desire to fuck floated off like a puff of smoke from spinning wheels on a gravel road.
Then came the long night of strained silence between them when he lay on his back and wondered what the hell this marriage was all about, but afraid to say anything for fear of what she would say in return, because she had to have a reason for the way she was acting toward him.
Bob leaned his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands. He twisted his fingers all about his forehead and the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension in them.
There wasn't any point trying to play it straight any more. Not with her. This kind of torture could go on for years. The cycle had to be broken. If she didn't break it, then he would. And he would begin by fucking Janice Walters, the bubbly blonde who would fold him in her arms and suck his prick into her hot, watery cunt and let him blast her pussy with the pent-up load in his balls until his spine turned to jelly and he passed out with the force and release of it all.
His hands trembled and shook around his head. The door opened, and he looked up again to see Janice standing there, neat, typewritten pages in her hand.
She paused and stared at him, the expression on her face telling him that he must look a wreck. He tried to sit back nonchalantly, to grin, to settle his hands down over the rampant bulge of his cock as it strained forward trying to reach across the room toward her skirted cunt.
But his lips quivered, his hands shook, and he banged his knee on a drawer he'd left open. He didn't dare stand up.
"Finished?" he asked. "So soon?"
She came toward him again and put the papers on his desk. Her face showed concern.
"It's ten to five, Mr. Miller," she said. "Do you mean you've been sitting there behind that desk all this time?"
He could hardly believe it. It seemed like five minutes had gone by since she walked out.
"Could you--uh--I think these should go to Mr. Crandall's office right away, Janice," he said, stopping himself from getting up until his stiff prick got soft. He tried to make his voice brusque and businesslike, but it didn't come out that way. How could it when he was going to fuck her in just about two hours?
"I've already called," she said. "Betty said he had to leave the office and wouldn't be back until after six. I thought I'd better give the report back to you. Mr. Grafton was doing a little snooping around while I was typing it, and frankly, Mr. Miller, I'm afraid to leave it out there."
Bob frowned. "Yeah," he said, the thought of Barney Grafton making his dick soften and go down to normal. "Well, I'll run it over and tell Betty to put it on Mr. Crandall's desk. I don't think Barney will go in there to swipe it, do you?"
She looked at him and smiled as if about to giggle. But she was the model of office diplomacy.
"No, sir. I don't think Mr. Grafton will do it."
Bob laughed at her, the tension suddenly draining from him. How ironic it was! The worst part of the report wasn't writing it , but keeping it out of the hands of Barney Grafton to keep him from copying from it for his own supplementary report or to keep him from using it to write a counter-argument. Either way, the little bastard was trying his damnedest to curry Crandall's favor and get Bob's position. And he and Janice knew he'd stop at nothing. Neither would his secretary.
"I'll take the chance Wilma won't go in there, either." Bob finally said, grinning at her.
"She's pretty slick."
"I wouldn't know." he grinned, feeling his face flush. She caught the double meaning and threw it back at him without batting an eye.
"I'm glad to hear that. But I think you ought to take a look and find out just how slick I am, too. In more ways than one. I'd be happy to show you any time, Mr. Miller."
His heart pumped madly. What a sexy little tease she was! He was just going to suggest that tonight would be the time when his phone rang. He picked it up and heard Mary's voice on the other end.
"This call's for Janice, Mr. Miller, is she in there with you?"
"Yes, just a minute, Mary."
He handed the phone to her and got up, taking the papers and turning sideways quickly to hide the remains of his hard-on from showing. Janice spoke into the phone, waited until Mary pushed the right button, and watched Bob leave the room.
"Oh, Wally ... what's the matter?" he heard her say. He closed the door and proofread the report on the way to Mr. Crandall's office. As always, her typing was perfect. And the report sounded good to him. Good and solid. It would have to be good to be able to buck the majority opinion about merging.
He left the report with Mr. Crandall's secretary, warning Betty in quiet tones to put it somewhere safe. He kidded with her a moment and then went back to his office. He looked up and saw Janice still in the room. She was setting Barbara's picture back up on the table and studying it.
Once again, Bob saw the incredible difference between the two women. Barbara grimaced and glinted as if warning the soft-bodied, smooth-hipped blonde to get her prick-fingering hands off the elegant frame before her lip curled up another inch and spat.
He sucked in his breath, his eyes taking in the rounded curve of her ass, the tilted swellings of her tits, the way her lips were so red and plush-looking. The miniskirt went high up the back of her legs, as if pointing the way to the silky, exciting cunt that would be underneath and between them.
He closed the door. Janice heard him, and turned quickly, startled. She stood a moment, one leg slightly in front of the other as if posing. Bob went toward her. She watched him come, an expectant look on her face. But her eyes looked sad.
"She ... she looks like a cold woman," Janice said.
Bob stopped. The remark was totally out of line. "She is," he said simply.
Janice smiled warmly. "I'm not, Mr. Miller."
He started to put out his arms, but she turned away from him, glancing back over her shoulder as she fingered the Roman clock on his desk.
"I don't want to start anything," she said.
He sighed heavily, feeling his soaring hopes punctured like an impossibly large balloon.
"No ... I suppose not."
She turned. "I mean, not tonight, Mr. Miller. I have to go home. I'm sorry." "What's the matter?"
Normally he wouldn't have asked that. It wasn't his business. But the circumstances were hardly normal. Not tonight, she'd said. That meant tomorrow night would be all right--the night after, and the one after that. Perhaps too many nights after that. Complications. Problems. A suffocating, hanging-on, scandalous affair. He suddenly wanted to leave because he was afraid. A quick fuck--that's all he wanted. Barbara would sue his ass blue otherwise . . .
"Wally's going out of town tonight," she said, turning on her bright, bubbly smile again and making his fears vanish into temporary hiding. "He's leaving at seven, and I've got to see him off."
"I understand," Bob said.
"No, you don't I want to see him off." she smiled again, teasing him. "You look so worried, Mr. Miller. Don't be. I love my husband. We have no problems whatsoever."
He frowned. "Then why ... ?"
She shrugged, making her tits bounce prettily. "Why not? You appeal to me. I like sex. To be very blunt, I like to fuck! Fuck and fuck!"
Bob swallowed hard. "Does Wally ... does he know about ..."
"Sure! I told you earlier, he wouldn't mind at all if I went out with you. It's true. He's going out of town for a week. He doesn't expect me to sit home every night and be chaste. That's old-fashioned, Mr. Miller. By the same token, I don't expect him to cuddle up with the next airline schedule and his expense vouchers and drift to sleep with the TV going. We're both young and normal and--" she shrugged again "--we like to fuck! What's the big deal?"
He passed his hand over his face again. It seemed awfully hot in the room. She laughed with a high and bubbly sound that wasn't a bit ridiculing of the bewildered expression on his face.
"You mean," he stammered, unsure of just how to put it, "you mean we could ... for a week?"
"Say fuck, Mr. Miller. I have a hunch that it would do you a hellofa lot of good."
Her eyes twinkled with challenge. "All right," he said. "Do you mean we could ... uh, fuck for a week ... and then it's all over?"
She laughed at his constricted voice. "Heavens no! We can go on as long as you like! Until I get tired of you, or you get tired of me. And then we can switch off; that's the way it works these days!"
"Switch off?"
"You know ... swap!"
Bob swallowed hard again and felt like he would have to piss in his pants in a second. He glanced at Barbara's picture. He'd heard about wife swapping.
But Barbara ... ? He shook his head, saying nothing.
"Don't worry about your wife," Janice said, waving her hand in the direction of the photograph. "Wally and I will take care of her. All you have to do is get her to one of our club meetings, and the rest will come naturally."
He kept shaking his head. "I don't ... it wouldn't ever ..."
I've got to get home now, Mr. Miller. Why don't you give it some thought, and we can talk about it tomorrow night when we have more time--lots more time." She rolled her eyes in a put-on lascivious gesture. "Tomorrow night?"
She blinked at him. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"
He stood stupidly. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to grab her and push her skirt up to her waist and cram his prick through her panties into her naughty cunt right there. He wanted to press her soft ass against the edge of the desk and fuck his gigantic load of cum into her body until his balls dropped off and rolled on the floor. How, after this, could he wait until tomorrow night?
She came in close to him, lifting her fresh, pretty face. She pursed her lips and waited. He growled finally and dove at her lips with his, mashing his mouth down on hers, kissing her wildly, until his head swam from the heady freshness of her wholesome sexuality.
He didn't care that they were in the office, that Crandall himself might walk through the door to say something about the report. He didn't care that his cock was lifting in his pants, digging its eager head into the soft vee between her thighs. And he could only gasp into her hot mouth when her fingers wrapped around the solid shaft of his prick and squeezed it firmly, making him threaten to come in her cupping hand.
"Oh, God!" he gasped. "Janice, Janice!"
She laughed easily, disengaging herself gently from his grasping arms.
"Easy, Mr. Miller," she said. "Don't waste it here. Save it for tomorrow."
"All right, all right," he panted, half out of his mind with need. How the hell could he wait after this?
"You go home and have that drink. Now you'll really need it. Have five of them, so you won't be tempted to give her that glorious prick full of cum. She doesn't want it, and she doesn't deserve it."
She pulled away from him and looked down at his raging cock, her eyes running over the way it tented up the front of his pants. A darkening stain was beginning to appear where the tip was leaking. He didn't try to hide his stiffness from her any more. He stood there and let her look, feeling very odd.
"Beautiful," she said softly. "Oh, Mr. Miller, I can hardly wait! Wally's going to wonder why I'm so hot tonight!"
"He'll know!"
"So what? He'll love you for it! He much prefers a big, hard come from me than a little one when he's going out of town. He'll be happy, and so will I. Think of us, Mr. Miller. Think of Wally plunging his prick into my slippery cunt. Think of how I'll be kicking my legs into the air and screaming for more of him to fill my bubbling pussy, wanting your cock in me at the same time!"
"God!" he gasped, feeling his pulse pound. "You goddamn little tease!"
She laughed brightly and brushed past him, patting her hand against the top of the tent at his front. She wriggled her ass obscenely and opened the door wide. He turned quickly, wanting to run after her, but not daring because there were some stragglers in the office still milling about, getting ready to leave. She closed the door, leaving him in the room to sweat and think and tremble.
He didn't believe what had just happened. He breathed and smelled the lingering odor of her perfume, trying to convince himself that it was simply another of his too-frequent daydreams.
The aroma was faint, but it was undeniably there. And he could still feel the softness of her lips against his. Soft and full and warm and open and willing.
He looked at his wife's picture and his: chest puffed out. One more chance, he thought. Barbara, tonight's your last fucking chance!
With much bravado, he wiped Janice's lipstick off his mouth with his handkerchief. He looked at the smear on the white cloth a moment, wondering what to do with the evidence. He stuffed it into his pocket.
Barbara would find it there when she went to do the laundry.
He didn't care, though; the rat was cornered, and his only avenue of escape lay in attack. Yes, he mused, it's time for a change, Miller.
Think of us, Mr. Miller. Think of Wally plunging his prick into my slippery cunt. Think of how I'll be kicking my legs into the air and screaming for more of him to fill my bubbling pussy, wanting your cock in me at the same time!"
"God!" he gasped, feeling his pulse pound. "You goddamn little tease!"
She laughed brightly and brushed past him, patting her hand against the top of the tent at his front. She wriggled her ass obscenely and opened the door wide. He turned quickly, wanting to run after her, but not daring because there were some stragglers in the office still milling about, getting ready to leave.
She closed the door, leaving him in the room to sweat and think and tremble.
He didn't believe what had just happened. He breathed and smelled the lingering odor of her perfume, trying to convince himself that it was simply another of his too-frequent daydreams.
The aroma was faint, but it was undeniably there. And he could still feel the softness of her lips against his. Soft and full and warm and open and willing.
He looked at his wife's picture and his chest puffed out. One more chance, he thought. Barbara, tonight's your last fucking chance!
With much bravado, he wiped Janice's lipstick off his mouth with his handkerchief. He looked at the smear on the white cloth a moment, wondering what to do with the evidence. He stuffed it into his pocket.
Barbara would find it there when she went to do the laundry.
He didn't care, though; the rat was cornered, and his only avenue of escape lay in attack. Yes, he mused, it's time for a change, Miller.
CHAPTER TWO
"Darling? Is that you? You're late."
Her voice came to him from the kitchen. Bob hung his coat in the hall closet and smelled the meat cooking. Dinner on schedule. Never mind that he was nearly an hour late, could have been mugged in the parking lot, wouldn't get his drink before dinner. He sighed and wandered into the kitchen, feeling very strange.
"Who did you think it was, the grim raper?"
He stood and looked at her. Her hair was done elegantly, as usual, her dinner attire neat and pressed and formal.
"Bob, that wasn't funny," she said. She checked the peas, taking care not to get too close to the steaming pot with her hair.
He went up behind her, spun her around, and nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, kissing it with his mouth open. She ducked back, speaking sharply.
"Bob, don't! You'll muss my hair!"
"Good," he said, grabbing the back of her head and flattening it with his attempt to pull her face toward his for a kiss.
They struggled together a moment. She relented and gave him his kiss-her customary, antiseptic, tight-lipped, closed-mouthed peck. She hung limply in his arms, waiting for him to be finished. He let her go, glanced into her cold eyes and turned toward the refrigerator.
"Where the hell's the gin?" he asked roughly.
"It's gone."
She turned around to put the lid back on the peas. She went over to the cabinet with the mirror on the inside of the door and fiddled with her hair, putting each strand back into place. She cast angry glances his direction all the while.
"Why didn't you get some?" he questioned. "I've been thinking about a martini since four o'clock, and when I get home, my wife informs me there's no gin!"
He slammed the door shut and clumped across the kitchen toward the liquor cabinet.
"There's some vodka in there," she said. "You can have a vodka martini. But you'll have to wait until after dinner because you're so late getting home that it's ready now."
He grabbed the vodka by the neck of the bottle and swung in onto the counter, thudding it down solidly. He went back to the refrigerator and yanked out a tray of ice cubes. The kitchen filled with the sound of cracking ice as he pulled it apart. Clink-clink into the glass, a throaty gurgle from the vodka bottle, and then he was drinking from it straight, eyeing her defiantly over the rim of the glass. He felt the alcohol burn into the pit of his stomach, made a face, and shivered.
"You forgot the vermouth," she said icily, putting her hands on her hips in a belligerent manner.
"No I didn't," he said. "Put your hands down, you're rumpling your suit."
"I'm ready to eat dinner. I'm very hungry."
"Go ahead," he shrugged, noticing that her hands went down and the straight, conservative lines reappeared to hide her shape.
"Do you intend to eat with me or after me?"
"That depends on how long you take to eat."
"What does that mean?"
"That means I'm going to finish this terrible martini first. And I may have another." "Bob, what's the matter with you tonight?"
"I came home late and you didn't ask why. I wanted a martini as usual, and there's no gin. I tried to kiss you for once, and you pushed me away in revulsion. I want to finish this terrible martini, and you're arguing with me about the trivialities of five or ten minutes." He sighed heavily and glared at her, taking another slug of liquor. "Nothing's the matter with me, Barb, why do you ask?"
Her lips compressed into thin white lines. She turned back to the stove and spoke to the potatoes.
"Why are you late from the office tonight, darling?" she said, clipping her words.
"I was finishing my report to Mr. Crandall as to why we shouldn't merge with Futures Unlimited."
"Was it a good report?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad. You always write good reports."
"Then I necked with my secretary in my office after everyone else had gone home."
"Do you want gravy, or should I leave the potatoes plain?"
"Her tits were soft and firm, and my prick got very hard. I had to wait a little while longer until it went down. In fact, that took rather longer than I had anticipated because it seemed to enjoy being up there."
She carried the pot of peas over to the sink and drained them. The steam burned her wrist slightly, and she dropped the pan. Green marbles rolled around in the sink.
"There go the peas," she said.
"Too bad. It doesn't matter."
She spun from the sink and gritted her teeth at him. "Why not?" she spat.
"Because I'm going to have another one of these terrible martinis. In fact, I've just decided I'll take someone's advice and have five of them."
He drained the glass and went for more ice. He turned the bottle of vodka up again and added some vermouth-just a drop. He found an olive and dumped it into the glass, spilling some of the liquid. He left the puddle on the counter and tasted the drink.
"Better," he said.
He pushed through the kitchen door toward the living room. He sat and stared at the blank eye of the TV tube and drank.
After a long while Barbara came into the living room. She sat on the edge of a chair and folded her hands in her lap. Her spine was ramrod stiff. She sat and stared at him, saying nothing. He looked at her, glanced at his glass to see if it was empty, then got up and clumped into the kitchen in his stocking feet to mix another. When he came back, she was still sitting as he had left her, prim and proper and straight and sexless and cold, cold and unrelenting.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked finally.
He raised his eyebrows, trying to decide what to say. It was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do about what?"
"Do you want me to cry?"
He shrugged, scowling at her quizzically. "Do you feel like crying, honey?" Why should he care whether she cried. He sipped noisily.
"I don't know. Do you want me to pull my hair and scream?"
He scowled drunkenly, feeling clownish and stupid all of a sudden. Vodka always did that to him--it snuck up and laid him low.
"Oh, no-o-o-o. Don't pull your hair, honey, you'll get it meshed up. Messed up, I mean."
"I won't give you a divorce, Bob," she said tightly.
His head flopped sideways a second. He scowled again.
"Wha's divorsh?" he asked, hearing but not comprehending.
"Do you want me to have an affair with someone else-so that you can feel free to do what you're doing?"
A wave of sobriety shot through him, and he sat up straighter. He put the glass on the table, part of him still coherent enough to realize that he'd better leave the juice alone before he said something he shouldn't.
"With whom would you have an affair?" he asked, mouthing the words exaggeratedly so that they would come out right.
"I'll find someone."
He looked at her. In a moment he started giggling. He threw his arms wide.
"How about me, baby? How about a fucking affair with your husband?"
"Bob, be serious!"
"I am!" he said. The words rumbled through his chest and felt good. He said it again. "I am!"
He was leaning halfway out of his chair. She stood up, straight and proper.
He nearly shouted the word at her. She flinched, just as he thought she would. He tried again.
"I want to fuck! Fuck and fuck! Do you know what 'fuck' means, Barbara? It doesn't mean lie on your back like you've got a board under your butt full of splinters and nails! It doesn't mean you line your cunt with a tube of sandpaper just before you shut out the lights and cover us up under the covers like two mummies under a shroud!"
He sprayed spit, and he knew his face was getting red. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then sucked on one finger like it was a nipple or a cock, depending on how she wanted to take it. She looked away and started to move into the kitchen.
"I'll get you some coffee," she said quietly.
He made a grab for her and caught the hem of her skirt in his fingers. She tugged away with her hip, the stitches popped. She quit struggling immediately.
"Let go of me," she threatened.
"You let go of me."
"I don't know what you mean. Anybody can see that it's your fingers on my dress."
"I'm not talking about fingers."
"Then what are you talking about?"
"Dirty looks. Dry pussy. Cold shoulder. Cold tits. Cold lips and mouth, and freezing, frigid ass! Memories of hot fucking one night that you've never given me since. Your passage through life."
"What do you mean!" Her eyes glinted harshly, narrowing into slits. "What do you mean-passage through life!"
"Don't shit me," he growled. "That first night--the night I thought would be repeated endlessly-and I asked you to marry me. You got married, but I never got fucked like that again!"
She snorted, pulling away from him again. "You're so crude! I can't stand you!"
"Ahhh, I can't stand your prissy-pussied, dried-up cunt, either, so where does that leave us?"
"With your secretary's fat mammaries, I suppose. Wouldn't you say that?"
"They're not fat!"
"Let me go, Bob," she asked quietly, her voice indicating she was obviously running out of patience with his childish antics.
"Oh, go fuck yourself, you superior bitch!" he shouted.
He yanked down with his hand. The waist of the skirt was strong. It dug into the flesh of her hips painfully before it gave and pinched and pulled down her thighs onto the floor. She reeled back from the shock and stood with her slip sticking out from under the suit jacket. He could see the straps of her garter belt holding her nylons up, and the crazy question came to him why she didn't wear panty hose like Janice and the other girls in the office probably did.
"Why the hell don't you get with it!" he demanded.
"Why the hell don't you go to bed and leave me alone!"
She cracked. It wasn't much, but she cracked just slightly. He felt elated. He couldn't stop himself. He lunged out of the chair toward her. He tripped and fell, giving her the chance to run.
"Bob, don't!" she cried suddenly. She ran toward the bedroom. It was the only door she could think of that had a lock on it. She didn't dare run outside. Somebody might see them-her in her slip, particularly.
She tried to slam the door before he got to it, but she didn't make it. His weight thudded heavily, pitching her backwards into the room. Her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she sprawled onto it on her back. Her slip flew up over her crotch, and she tried to fight it down.
Bob stood over her and laughed, pointing his finger. "What's the matter? You afraid your pussy might show? Gracious, madame! It would never do for your husband to see your private parts!"
He swished his wrist and bent one knee inward in a simpering manner that was meant to convey Victorian prudishness but only caused him to stagger into the dresser. Barbara stayed on her back, supporting her weight on her elbows, watching him carefully. He saw the look of fear and distaste in her eyes and lumbered toward the bed menacingly, with no specific idea of what he was going to do. He reached out vaguely with one jerky hand. If she hadn't scrabbled backwards in an effort to get away from him, he probably would have gone back to the kitchen and drunk vodka until he passed out.
But her motion of avoidance stung through him like a picador's barb, and like the tormented bull in the arena, he roared and charged at the cape of her slip. His fingers gathered the material in a wadded bunch, and he yanked down viciously, immensely satisfied with the loud ripping sound that ensued.
"Bob!" she cried. "For God's sake, stop it!"
"Why the hell should I? I paid for the goddamn thing! I'll rip it off your ass if I feel like it!"
He came at her again, wheeling to catch her as she rolled over the bed. The buttons on her suit jacket flew across the room and clattered into the wall. Barbara screamed curtly. Then she was panting with ragged sounds as he covered her body and pulled the jacket from her chest.
He looked down, breathing hard. Her slip lay jaggedly across her naked belly, letting him see her antiseptically white panties-the big, all-covering ones, not the bikinis he'd bought and begged her to wear. Underneath the material he could just barely make out the dark triangle of her pubic muff nestled between soft thighs. Her hips and waist were good. Her whole body was good. He sat astride her thighs and gawked. It was criminal to hide a body the way she did. He kept sitting there, staring dumbly, as if seeing her cunt for the first time. He drooled from his lower lip and made a sound in his throat.
"Don't you dare!" she threatened.
She clamped her thighs tightly together and tried to roll her hips aside. He looked up from her crotch to her eyes, and another harpoon lanced into him.
"I should have done this years ago," he growled.
He reached for the top of the slip and the militaristic bra underneath. He pulled roughly, hearing the catches give. She beat at his hands ineffectually with her fists, and he slapped her face hard enough to make her head jolt sideways.
"You bastard!" she hissed, repressing tears of frustration and pain.
"You bitch," he said back calmly. Tit for tat.
He ripped the garments from her chest and made her cry out in red-welted pain. Her tits bobbled freely on her chest, high and ripe and firm, astounding him with their youthfulness and beauty. She tried to cover them with her arms, and he slapped them away. Then he sat on his heels, straddling her thighs, and looked at her tits, her flat, puffing belly, and the outline of her body. The fight went out of her. She lay back and let him look, tight-lipped and cold. He was too strong for her, even drunk.
"Are you satisfied now?" she asked tightly.
He grunted. "Nice jugs. Why the hell do you hide your body, Barb? It's a good one. Nice jugs. Small waist, good hips and legs. Shit, I never knew I had it so good."
"That's a lie. You get your use of it whenever you want it-except at the obvious times. You can't deny it. Now let me up. I don't know what you imagine you've proved by doing this."
He snorted loudly. "The use of it! That's right, Barbie-baby-like a motel toilet bowl! Use it, flush it clean, scrub it up for the next night--prim, prissy, anti-septic, Goddamn it!"
He reached up her chest and squeezed her tits with his hands, making the nipples swell and pop up from the soft flesh like the ends of a half-blown balloon. Barbara grimaced and turned her head.
"Watch me, you cold cunt!" he yelled. "Watch what happens to your tits when they get squeezed!"
He squeezed and rolled them again. They formed into flattened balls of flesh, then peaked into pointed cones as he worked them in his hands. He rubbed the nipples with his thumbs and cackled excitedly when they grew red and stood up by themselves.
"See!" he crowed. "You aren't really sexless, are you? You're titties are giving you away, Barbie-doll!"
She whimpered in the back of her throat when he forced her head forward with one hand and shoved the tip of her tit toward her face with the other, making her look. Her eyes opened briefly, saw, and closed tight again.
"By God, I wonder if anything else is happening to you?"
He caught the elastic waistband of her panties in his fingers and pulled. Her back arched up off the bed with her cry of pain.
"Don't Bob-please don't!"
He tugged hard. The panties gave and tore from her hips. He pulled the ragged bottoms from under her buttocks through the gap in her kicking thighs. He put his face down into the black thatch of curly hair and inhaled deeply.
"Ahhh!" he breathed out raggedly. "Sex! It smells like a cunt! I wonder if it feels like a cunt?"
He gripped her crotch in his hand. His fingers curled and wormed their way into the meat of her hole. She cried out as his nails scraped her tender tissues. He pulled his fingers out, and they were nearly dry.
"Flunked!" he announced. "Not wet like a cunt should be. Let's perform the final test and see if it tastes like the red-hot, honest-to-God cunt of a woman should taste!"
She squirmed under him. "Bob, I won't let you! Don't you do that! We're finished if you do anything more!"
He was working his way down her body to where he could lick her pussy. His thighs trapped her legs, and his hands held her torso down. He stopped when she said that and looked up.
"That's your threat, Barbara," he said. "Mine's just the same. We're finished if you don't. I've had it, chaste lady. I want some fucking from you that has meaning behind it. I need it. If you won't give it to me, then I don't care any more, understand me?"
Their eyes locked. After a long moment, she stopped struggling with him and sobbed. Her head rolled to one side, and she bit the knuckles of one hand, as if trying to stuff her fist into her mouth.
Bob watched her. He suddenly felt shitty. Absolutely shitty. This wasn't what he wanted. He placed his hands on her thighs and her legs moved with no resistance. He pushed at her knees, and her legs went up and back, falling wide apart. Her pussy lips separated, and he could see the pink meat of her slit under the tangled nest of her pubes.
He hesitated, staring down. She might as well be dead. It would be like fucking a corpse, the same as always. He'd rather have her fight him than this.
Despite his disappointment and dejection, he couldn't take his eyes away from her pussy. Five years, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen it opened up for him like this. There was the first time, of course. There had probably been others, but he honestly couldn't remember them. The first night stuck in his memory, taunting him. Five years of fucking blind under the covers in the dark, each night hoping, wondering why, wondering what was wrong.
He'd started out kidding her about it, making jokes. Then he was asking straight out. Then pleading. Then digging, each of them turning sarcastic and acid. Then the silent rankling and the questioning-why? He wished suddenly that the first night had never happened. If it had never existed, it wouldn't be in his memory to taunt him.
He put his fingertip against her cunt. It was startlingly brown against the tender pink. She dug her butt into the bed and moaned, trying to escape the touch. He moved his finger around, running it over the inner surfaces of her hairy lips, around the rim of her hole, bumping against the tip of her clit. Everything was dry. He put his hand to his mouth and spat on his fingers, transferring the saliva to her twat.
That made it slippery for a little while. He rubbed and pressed and ran his finger into her hole, hearing her whimper and flinch with pain.
"Don't you like it, honey?" he asked, his voice strangely childlike.
"Yes. I like it, Bob."
"Doesn't it feel good?"
"It feels good."
Her voice was wooden. Her teeth indented the flesh of her knuckles, and her throat jerked in a gagging motion.
"Damn you!" he cried.
He dove at her cunt, opening his mouth wide, covering her twat with it. His tongue lashed at her clit, stroked into her vaginal hole, and stabbed at the soft flesh there.
Barbara whimpered and twitched her buttocks. He let the saliva flow from his mouth so that she would grow slippery and her tissues would become more sensitive. She twisted under his oral manipulations, but it wasn't from passion. She was stopping herself from feeling it.
He raised his head from her crotch and saw her eyes open. She stared blankly into the room.
"Why are you holding back?" he asked. "I want to know, Barbara! What has turned you sour on sex since that first night? Why are you punishing me like this!"
"I can't tell you, Bob!" she sobbed.
"Maybe my prick can!" he shouted back. "I'm going to fuck you, now, tonight, before it's too late, do you hear me?"
His face was swollen and red with rage. His head hovered over her spread crotch. His mouth was open, and his eyes black with fury. He looked like a wolf startled at his dinner feast of fresh meat.
She looked down at him and gurgled with fear. He was unzipping his pants, fumbling around inside the fly for his prick. Then he got angry and yanked the buckle of his belt open, the snap at his waist. He pushed his pants and gaping shorts down his buttocks. He gripped his cock and shook it threateningly at her. She nearly laughed.
"You can't do anything with that!" she jeered.
He looked down in his hand and saw that his prick was flaccid, perfectly limp, dangling like a dead sausage in his hand. He looked up at her.
"Make it hard," he commanded.
"Why should I?"
"Because I want to fuck you."
"All right. Turn out the light."
"No!" he shouted. "Just once I want to see what's happening! I want to slip my prick into your hole and feel it wrapped up in the slippery, slick, warm, squirming tissues of sucking muscles! I want you to moan and wiggle your ass and act like it's driving you crazy! I want to see your goddamn hair get rumpled, your mascara smeared by passion, your straight face twist with the ecstasy of sex! I want you to cup my ass with your hands and pull my cock into your body and suck up my cum when I squirt it out the end of my prick! The goddamn light stays on!"
She watched him rant and shout. A steely calmness came over her. When he was finished, she had her arms behind her head surveying him coolly, feeling suddenly safe because his penis was soft.
"Don't you think that's a rather juvenile approach toward sex?" she asked him.
"Juvenile! Shit, you're the one with the juvenile approach-making it secret, dirty, hiding under the covers all the time, merely indulging in your wifely duty with about as much involvement as a fungus on a rotten log!"
"That's the way you wanted me to be."
He gawked at her, utterly thunderstruck. "You thought what!"
"You did! From the first--that party! And then ... oh, God, Bob, I can't believe it!"
"I've told you and told you I wanted a hot-fucking wife!" he shouted. "But you're not capable! You've got to be the original Miss Whiz-Bitch, Queen Matron, Lady Chastity Belt herself! Prim, proper, prissy-pussy, sexless, fuckless ... shit! Shit and more shit! You know what that is, Barbara--a big stinking pile of shit!"
He stopped yelling. He sat astride her thighs and glared heatedly at her. His nostrils flared, and his chest heaved up and down. It took all the will power he possessed to keep from balling his fist and smashing it into the side of her head.
"Are you finished?" she asked calmly, her lips thin and tight again. "No! Get me hard!"
She opened her mouth, closed it. She sighed deeply and reached for his prick. She pulled on it, making him scoot his buttocks up over her fuzzy cunt to keep from getting his cock yanked off in her hand. She pushed her hand up and down the shaft, feeling the loose-skinned wriggle dick under her fingers.
Bob watched her manipulate his prick. He didn't quite trust her with it. After a moment, he took her hand away.
"That's not doing anything," he said. He aimed it toward her face and scooted up higher so that his ass was pillowed by her firm, rounded tits. The bumps of her nipples dug into his buttocks. "Suck on it!" he commanded.
Barbara made a face. He couldn't quite interpret it. It wasn't totally disgust; there was something else. But at the moment he couldn't determine what it was. It didn't matter. Not when there was something more important to be done.
She took his cock in her hands again and looked at it. A funny expression flitted across her eyes. Then she closed them and opened her mouth, putting the tip of his prick between her softly rounded lips.
Bob watched her do it. He could scarcely believe it was happening. After all these years!
"Oh, God!" he cried after a moment.
She was ravenous. He fought between being astounded and charged up by what she was doing. She pulled and sucked on his prick and ran her tongue around the sensitive corona. Then she slithered it down the soft shaft and stripped it back up again, pressing tightly, bringing a rush of blood into the spongy tissues. His prick inflated immediately in her mouth, blooming fully, firmly, starting to throb with building lust. He leaned his head back and moaned softly.
She went crazy for a minute. He thought she was going to eat him alive, starting with his cock. She wrapped her hands around his buttocks and pulled his hips forward so that his prick pushed all the way into the back of her throat. He could feel her lips crushing the crinkly hairs around the root of his cock. She opened the back of her throat and made him shiver. Her mouth twisted and sucked, and her tongue drove him nearer the brink of madness. He groaned hoarsely, and his balls trembled with her savage attack.
"No!" she yelled suddenly, spitting his prick out. She tucked her head down, hiding her mouth from him. "God, no! I can't! Not after this long!"
"Don't stop, Barb!" he gasped. "Honey, don't stop!"
He pulled and tugged at her head, gripping his throbbing prick in one hand and trying to get her to keep sucking him. He heard her mumbling, "No!" over and over again, but he wasn't even listening to what she said. It had never been so good for him. He couldn't believe she could suck a cock so well.
They wrestled. She pushed and pulled at him as if fighting with herself instead of him. She swore and babbled incoherently, sobbing half the time. She finally bit his thigh with her sharp teeth and made him yell.
"You bitch!"
"Get off me! Go make some other little queer suck you off! Fly away, you damned fairy!"
Bob froze. The dick in his hand throbbed redly. An icy feeling clutched at him. How did she know?
"I am not!" he yelled. "Prissy-pussy, filthy mouth! I'll show you what you're missing, Goddamn it!"
He pinned her down firmly with his weight and stroked his hand up and down the solid, trembling length of his cock. He made a hard fist of his fingers and pumped his rod furiously. Barbara watched him doing it, her eyes growing wider.
She struggled again. She could see the tip of his dick leaking out, oozing shiny drops of his hot juice. His prick was aimed right at her face. She tossed her head from side to side and moaned.
Bob grunted. He felt his balls tightening. Then the spasms started, and it was like a dam bursting through a thin wall. His cum spouted out the tip of his prick, shooting across the distance to the top of her head. Another gush followed, and another, each falling shorter and shorter so that she was covered with his cum. It strung through her dark hair in shimmering strings and rolled over the side of her face. It splattered against her lips and over her nose, and then his prick was dribbling its last around the base of her neck.
"You bastard!" she hissed. "You rotten bastard!"
"Ahhh!" he gasped, feeling the last of the built-up spasms subside. First Janice had teased him, making him hot, and then Barbara's wildly sucking mouth. He felt better, relieved. He sagged sideways, offering no resistance when Barbara pushed his body off hers and got up and ran for the bathroom.
He felt better, but nothing had been solved. It was worse than before ... nothing resolved but the release of pressure from his groin, his balls empty and content ... for the moment.
CHAPTER THREE
His eyes opened. He stared through the darkness toward the ceiling. He felt Barbara in the bed with him, lying with her back toward him as far on the other side of the bed as she could get.
He glanced at his watch, squinting to see the luminous dial. Three o'clock. He felt out of breath, as if he'd been running--or frightened. He must have been dreaming.
Bob searched his memory, and he knew what had awakened him.
Queer! Fairy!
It wasn't true!
He tried to shut the scenes from his mind, but they wouldn't go. How had she known about Paul? How long had she known? All the time? Is that what she was punishing him for? There had to be some reason!
The memory washed over him. Paul. Slim, blond, sensual lips. College. Beer party with an unsuccessful attempt to pick up two girls.
They went to his room. Paul had never been there before. He'd never even met Paul before that night. Yet they went into his room with their arms around each other, playing at being more drunk than they really were, the way horny young men will do after a beer party.
Creak, on the bed. Laughter. Foul language about cunts and pricks and fucking and how they'd missed out on it all at the end when the boy friends showed up. Horny cocks. More laughter. The urge to urinate, the smell of stale beer.
Creak, off the bed. Sneaking down the quiet hall into the john. Much splashing as they pissed at the same time. A soft hand on his cock suddenly. Frightened eyes looking into hot ones. A few pumps, and his cock was hard again, the way the teasing blonde girl had kept it all night.
Bob rolled over in bed and groaned, trying to shut the rest of it from his mind. He heard harsh breathing and clamped the pillow down over his head to shut it out. But it was his own, the way he'd breathed that night, sitting on the toilet seat with Paul's head buried between his thighs, the blond hair bobbing up and down, making him groan with the intense pleasure of his lips and tongue sucking, licking his cock.
Bob sat up in bed quickly, sweating, his chest heaving up and down. He looked over at Barbara. She was sleeping soundlessly. He could see the rise of her hip under the covers.
He got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, feeling his stomach going around. He closed the door and turned on the light and looked into the mirror, his arms shaking as he leaned against the sink.
His face was pasty white, his lips nearly blue.
"It's the vodka," he told himself, whispering harshly. "That and no dinner."
His stomach churned, and he was violently sick. When he was finished, he sat on the toilet seat and shook. Then he groaned with guilt, because that was the way he'd been sitting for Paul.
He remembered hitting Paul afterward. Balling his fist and smacking him solidly in the groin when he rose up to present his quaking prick to Bob's face.
Paul had cried out, fallen, cursed vilely, and vomited. Then Bob was pushing him down the stairs of the rooming house, kicking him in the ass to get him moving faster. At the bottom of the stairs, Paul threatened to get even--some time, some place. And that was the only time he'd seen Paul again.
But the memory lingered. And the guilt. And the fear that he'd make his promise good. Perhaps he had.
How else would Barbara have known?
He got off the toilet and shut out the lights. In a moment he went back toward the bed. He lay on his back and wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. He had to do something about his marriage or go out of his head with frustration.
Tomorrow. He would explain it all to Barbara tomorrow. Maybe they could start over somehow.
Bob rode in the elevator toward the top of the building. It stopped at another floor, and he glanced at his watch as a fat man got on. He was half an hour late already. He was never late for work. Neither was Mr. Crandall.
The door slid shut, and the box hummed from somewhere. The fat man puffed heavily and tried once more to button his suit coat. The elevator stopped again, and the fat man got off. Bob had the urge to kick his fleshy butt out the door to speed him up.
When he got to his floor, he turned toward Crandall Investments and hurried down the hall, through the door, down past the row of peering secretaries, and into the shelter of his office. Janice was standing beside his desk, putting a memo on it.
"Good morning, Mr. Miller," she bubbled. "My, you look like you took my advice and had two more for good measure."
He hung up his coat, feeling strange. He'd thought the episode of yesterday would be over, that she would be back to her old casual but proper self. He was wrong. The sparkle in her eyes told him that she was counting on seeing him tonight.
"Janice...." he began.
She must have sensed it. "Before you do anything this morning, Mr. Miller, Mr. Crandall wants to see you--immediately."
He stopped. "What's he want?"
She shrugged prettily. "I don't know."
"I mean, what did he act like?" "Upset."
"Upset? About the report?"
"I don't know, Mr. Miller."
He watched her leave the room. All thoughts of Janice and Barbara and anything connected with them left him. He felt apprehensive. It was a good report. But there must have been something wrong with it after all.
He put his coat back on, and then he was standing in front of Crandall's desk, watching the old man watch him over the tops of his half-glasses, peering from black, beady eyes in an alarming way.
"I was hoping I'd get to study your report last night, Miller," he said. "Do you have it with you?"
He looked at Bob's hands, seeing damn well that he didn't have it with him.
"I left it with your secretary last night, Mr. Crandall," he said, frowning. "I saw her bring it in myself."
He removed the glasses, already tired of the inquisitor game.
"I don't seem to have it here," he said, thumbing through a stack of papers. He pushed a button on his desk, and Betty came in.
"Yes, Mr. Crandall, I put it right there," she said positively, pointing at his desk corner.
"All right, Betty, thank you." When she was gone, he leaned back in his chair. "What the hell's going on here?" he questioned rhetorically.
Bob didn't know what to say. "I'll check my own desk again, Mr. Crandall. But I know I gave it to Betty."
Crandall shrugged and raised his eyebrows. "You gave her something," he said. "But it wasn't the report."
Bob didn't say what he was thinking. "Yes, sir," he said instead. "I'll take another look, but I know...."
"All right...."
The conversation dwindled away. The black eyes stared. Bob turned, the feeling of having been sentenced hanging over him for some reason.
He went to Barney Grafton's office and looked inside. The desk was clean and empty.
"Mr. Grafton's not in today."
He turned and saw Wilma, his secretary, grinning foxily at him.
"Where is he?"
"He phoned in sick," she said, running paper into her typewriter. The keys clacked noisily. "I'll bet," Bob muttered.
He went back to his office. Janice wasn't around. He closed the door, apprehension gripping him. That bastard Grafton had the report!
To prove himself right, he slammed his drawers open and closed. The fourth one made him pause and stare. The report was in it, stacked neatly on top.
That bastard!
He paused again, feeling his fingers shaking. That was the drawer he would have put it in if....
He searched his memory. Then he was going through the motions of what had happened yesterday afternoon when Janice had brought it in. He'd been sitting in the chair with his cock stiff, flustered....
When he was through, he couldn't remember anything except the pretty, bubbling form of Janice, the way his prick throbbed. Maybe he had given Betty the wrong sheets of paper.
Insecurity washed over him. No more vodka, he swore to himself. He went out the door to Crandall's office. He handed the report over the big desk. Crandall peered at him over the tops of his glasses, playing inquisitor with him once more.
Back in his office again, his hands shook. He was going to hell. He was getting there very fast and with a good deal of help. Christ, he didn't know how he could even survive the day without more sleep.
Damn you. Barbara!
Damn, damn, damn!
He was nodding in the chair when the phone rang. He picked it up, and his voice was husky with sleep.
"Miller, come into my office."
That's all there was. No pause for response, no warmth, nothing. A death knoll. Crandall's voice reverberated through his foggy head ominously, keeping him ragged and apprehensive.
The black eyes stared over the tops of the glasses again. It was inquisitor time once more.
"I'm not happy with this report, Miller," Crandall said.
"I know it's not the popular position, Mr. Crandall, but--"
"I'm not talking about the position. I'm talking about the report. Your argument against merger has the rambling, defensive hysteria of a bachelor talking against marriage. You completely ignored the potential market over ten years of better than a million dollars that will ensue from a merger. The report is inadequate, Miller. Do it again, with all the factors."
Bob watched him push the papers across the desk, his eyes never once leaving Bob's face. Bob stood there a moment, feeling his feet prickle inside his shoes. Nothing was going right any more!
"Miller?" "Yes, sir?"
The glasses came off. A ghost of a smile appeared. He was human after all!
"I don't like having personal affairs show up in your work. You are married, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a slight nod. The glasses went back on and the silvery head bowed toward a file of papers.
"The meeting's been postponed a week. I'll give you until Friday to get your report straightened out. That's all."
Bob turned, not yet hung but sentenced. He went back to his office in a daze. He sat down and tried to read through the report, but his eyes blurred. He picked up the phone to call Barbara. There was still no answer.
She was gone when he got up this morning. She wasn't there for lunch. It was nearly five again, and she was still gone. He slammed the phone back into the cradle.
So that's the way it's going to be! he thought. He thumbed the button for Janice.
"Yes, Mr. Miller?" she greeted him, bubbling over as usual.
"I hope it's going to be Bob before the night's over," he said. She grinned, understanding. "Bob-bob-bob!" she giggled, moving her head up and down between her arms in pantomime of sucking his prick. She looked up and grinned again.
He had to laugh at her. "You're a pretty good teaser," he said.
"I'm good at a lot of things, Mr. Miller. By the way, I told Wally."
"What?"
"He thought it was a fine idea!"
She reached under her short skirt suddenly and did something with her fingers. He could see her knuckles bunching up at her crotch, flapping against the material of the skirt. He stared in amazement.
"What are you doing?"
"Scratching, Mr. Miller. I've been wanting to do this all day, but I can't out there in the office. I'm glad you have a door so I can come in and scratch my pussy. It itches. I've been thinking about tonight for so long my pussy leaked, and now I've got the itchies. Ahhh, that's better!"
She pulled her hand out from under her skirt, her arm lifting it high enough for him to see the sausage-skin tightness of her panty hose as it cupped her puffy-lipped cunt. He sat at his desk and looked along the top of it right into the vee of her thighs.
"Better cut that out," he said. "I'll get another hard-on."
"You mean you don't have one now? Goodness, we'll have to do something about that!"
She pulled her skirt up slowly. She pushed her hips and pelvis forward, making the front edge of his desk put a crease in the soft flesh of her thighs. The smooth, nylon-covered skin gleamed in the light. The skirt bunched above her abdomen. She held it there with her dainty fingers and then slowly rocked her ass back and forth, fucking his gaze with her cunt.
He could see it under the panty hose. The blonde curls were mashed, and her pussy lips were flattened. She spread her thighs a little, and the petals to her pussy parted slightly-just enough for a whiff of her aroma to come to his nostrils. "Ohhh, my God," he breathed quietly. She laughed warmly and dropped her skirt. "I'll bet it's hard now," she said.
He looked down in his lap. He could see the front of his pants bulging upwards, and he could feel his dick pounding hard. He nodded and licked his lips, knowing that what had happened last night was nothing more than physical release. He was still horny as a brass band emotionally.
"I'll meet you after work at Zorin's, all right?" she said. "Wouldn't look right if we walked out together."
"All right," he said, swallowing hard. He watched her close the door, and then he moaned. He didn't even look over at Barbara's picture.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Tell me how you met her--why you married her?"
Janice leaned over him, tucking her legs up under her tight ass and kissing him lightly on the mouth. He leaned back on her couch and tried to pull her down on top of him.
"Let's not talk about it right now," he gasped, feeling his prick throbbing harshly in his pants. He looked into the opening of her blouse and ran his hand inside to cup the soft mound of her tit. She didn't offer any resistance, putting her hand on his chest and moving it around warmly.
"All right," she said after a moment. "But I want to know. Promise you'll tell me?"
"Yes!" he gasped again. "Oh, God, Janice!"
"Let's go into the bedroom," she suggested. She pushed the two drinks on the coffee table away so that he wouldn't be tempted to finish his. "Sex and booze don't mix," she explained.
He followed her into the bedroom, watching the mounds of her rear bounce saucily in front of him. He was feeling heady. A drink at Zorin's, most of one here, no sleep last night, a throbbing erection that needed relief-it all worked on him.
She turned and came into his arms by the bed. He looked around and saw her husband's things and felt strange. She lifted her face for a hot kiss, looking into his eyes.
"You're going to be quick the first time, aren't you?" she asked.
"I don't ... no, there's...."
"Yes, you will. Most guys are the first time. It's all right, Mr.--I mean, Bob." She laughed. "Force of habit."
"I've got a force," he said.
"And I've got a habit-a wonderful, sexy habit. I like to fuck!"
"Then let's get started!"
They kissed hungrily. Her tongue ran in and out of his mouth, making him go wild with passion. He wasn't used to such aggression. They fell onto the bed, and she curled her legs around his, letting her skirt ride up to her crotch.
"Let's get undressed," she breathed heavily. "Lie back-let me do it all. For the first time, anyway."
He stretched out and watched her. She got to her knees and leaned over him, letting the blouse fall away from her pointed tits. He looked down between them and resisted the urge to put his hand in after them. She unbuttoned his shirt and he helped her pull it off. Then she bent her head down and kissed his nipples, running her tongue over them and nipping them with her teeth.
"Oh, God!" he groaned, cupping the back of her head. He had to remember that it wasn't Barbara's head, and that he could muss the blonde hair.
"You're hot," she said, looking up at him and grinning. "I can tell you're hot. Poor Mr. Miller. I wish Wally were here to take care of your wife for you."
She undid the buckle of his pants. Her fingers were cool and exciting against his abdomen. He lifted his butt up off the bed to help her pull the shorts and pants down, then felt a thrill shoot through him when she gasped and cooed and cupped his prick in her fingers.
"What a beautiful prick!" she said. "Man, your wife's crazy for not wanting this inside her!"
He didn't have to ask. She began ripping her own clothes off fast, getting ready for a wild session. Her tits tumbled free, hobbling, pointed, soft yet firm at the same time. Then she was pushing the skirt down her smooth thighs and rolling the panty hose after them. She stood on her knees by his waist and fanned her pussy with her hand, fluffing the curly hairs on her crotch. He saw the pearly glistening of her hot juices and reached for her hips.
"I want to suck your cunt!" he rasped, pulling her closer.
She waddled forward, lifting one knee over his chest so that her crotch was straddling his chest.
He stared at the widespread pussy over his head. It was open and pink and throbbing. Juice was bubbling out of her hole, lubricating her cunt for him. He could see everything through the blonde hairs, and his cock pounded hotly at the tip.
"Bend down!" he commanded, pulling at her hips and buttocks, kneading the soft flesh in his fingers.
She giggled and dipped her pussy toward his face. He lashed out with his tongue, licking the slit of her twat from bottom to top, making her yelp happily when he hit her clit.
"Ooo, enough of that!" she cried. "Let's fuck!"
He waggled his nose in her pussy, inhaling the musky, heady aroma of her sex. She held his head by his ears, feeling him shake it negatively.
"Oh, you want to sixty-nine first?"
His nose and lips went up and down her slit. His tongue thrust into the dripping hole of her cunt.
"All right, honey!" she said brightly.
She flipped around over him, spreading her thighs wide. He felt her long hair dangling around his thighs and prick, and then her warm, exciting fingers were clutching his cock tightly. She lowered her sodden muff down to his face, and he opened his mouth wide, covering her whole twat with the warmth of his lips. His tongue fluttered madly, and his lips sucked and pulled at her inner lips and the knob of her clit.
"Ahhh!" she moaned.
She wiggled her ass over his face, shaking her cunt around, bearing down hard to increase the friction of his sucking.
She pumped his rod with her hand, teasing the tip of it with her fingers. He bucked upwards with his hips, wanting her to quit stalling and suck on him. Maybe she didn't want to get a mouthful! Maybe she'd only been teasing him and wouldn't be any better about it than Barbara. He churned and bucked harder, taking one hand from her ass to press down at the top of her head.
"I'll suck it in a minute, sweetie," she said hotly. "Mmm, just keep doing me like that, and I'll be up with you in no time. Then we can come together! You can squirt your big load down my throat, and I can flood your mouth with my cum. God, you're starved! Oh, Bob, suck me harder!"
He went crazy. His cheeks and chin were dripping with her hot juices. He drove his tongue into her cunt again and again, stabbing it far into the tight canal of her pussy, feeling her quaking muscles suck and pull hotly on it.
His fingers dug into the cheeks of her soft ass, manipulating the flesh, pulling them apart, running daringly up and down the cleft between them. Barbara would never let him fiddle with her ass like this! Maybe Janice would ... maybe she'd like to....
His cock throbbed with the thoughts of doing all the things to Janice that he'd always wanted to do to Barbara. Then he cried out loudly into her cunt, puffing, breathing harshly into the bubbly, pink tissues.
"Gaaah!" he yelled, feeling the soft, warm lips of her mouth pucker out over the tip of his prick. She made them tight, pushing her mouth down over the end, the cock-knob, holding his shaft firmly in her hand. Her tongue was there, just inside her lips. It danced lightly over the sensitive glans of his cock as she pushed her mouth down over him. Her tongue grew tighter and tighter against his cock as her hand slowly pumped up and down.
Her tits stabbed hotly into his belly as she wriggled. Her thighs clamped and relaxed around the sides of his head, alternately letting him hear the wet, sucking sounds of her slobbering pussy and then shutting them out.
Her lips nibbled down the end of his prick, past the corona, onto the solid shaft. Her tongue was pressing the end of his cock up against the roof of her mouth, making a tight, sucking clamp. Her tongue rotated and rubbed against the bottom of his shaft, hitting the most sensitive spot over and over again.
Something seemed to open up in her mouth. His cock slipped all the way into her cavern, and then it was getting softly, vibrantly sucked around all surfaces. Her lips crushed the hair around his balls, and her fingertips dug into the soft, sensitive perineum under his crotch.
He was in her throat! He could feel the tight, rotating motions of her muscles as she sucked and pulled and urged him to come in her mouth and fill her belly full.
"Oh, God!" he cried hotly.
When he opened his mouth, she dipped her pelvis down. His lips covered her asshole, and his chin dug into her pussy. He tasted the strange flavor and knew what had happened. His mind seemed to black out. His tongue thrust into the tight ring just as her finger slipped up his own asshole and wriggled around in his rectum like a blind snake.
She was doing it! He was doing it! Christ, what a hot bitch!
His thumb slipped into her aching pussy just as she began moaning around his cock and bobbing her head up and down on it, rasping his thick shaft with her pulling, stripping tongue. She ground her hips against his face and bucked and twitched. Then her pussy seemed to open up and explode around the stuffing digit of his thumb.
Great wads of cum dribbled down around it, trickling over his wrist and chin. Her asshole quivered and sucked around the root of his tongue as she came and groaned throatily around his cock.
He bucked upwards and felt his jizz blast hotly out the tip of his prick, splashing against the back of her throat in a scalding flood, pumping and spurting with each jerk of his exploding cock.
He didn't have to hold her head down. She sucked and drank from his fountaining prick until he was writhing in ecstatic pain as she sucked and pulled with her tongue, draining every last drop of his ejaculation from his tube.
They finally rolled apart, gasping.
"Good, good!" he croaked, breathing harshly.
She bent over him again. "My, your face is all wet! You mean I was that hot and didn't even know it?"
She hugged him playfully, nipping him all over with her teeth.
"Do you like it ... in your ass?" he asked suddenly, his voice full of hope.
"Sweetie, I like it anywhere! If it would fit, you could come in my ear, and I'd love it. Why, do you want to do it Greek?"
He flushed. "You seemed to like my tongue in there, and ... well, frankly, your finger up mine felt terrific!"
She pulled back and smiled hugely at him. "Oh-oh," she said. "I'll bet I know what you'd like!"
"What?"
"I've got a wonderful toy! I use it on Wally sometimes, and I'll bet it would drive you wild!"
"What is it?" he asked, looking at her with a trace of apprehension.
She only laughed at him. "We can do that later, honey. We've got all night, haven't we?" He grinned. "As far as I'm concerned we have."
"Good! Then we can start off right now with a good, long fuck! Hop on, lover, and sink that gorgeous cock into my cunt!"
She flopped onto her back and lifted her knees way up and apart. Her wet cunt gleamed silkily. He stared at it while she weaved her ass around and around in circles for him, spreading her pussy lips with her fingers so that he could see everything. The hole of her vagina gaped open wetly, and he looked up inside it. Her cunt muscles quivered and vibrated with passion.
Amazingly, his dick started to grow again. It bloomed out fully. They both watched it happen and laughed.
"Goodness, my pussy must really turn you on!" "Janice, about now, any pussy would turn me on!"
"Well, that wasn't a very nice thing to say!" she pouted in mock anger. Her butt fell back against the bed, and her thighs jerked partially closed.
He got worried. Him and his big mouth. "I didn't mean it that way," he said quickly. "I meant ... oh, hell!"
She laughed at him again, holding her arms out. "Come on, sweetie, I know what you meant! Boy, are you hung up! Your wife ought to get her ass reamed out, but good, and I know just the man who'd like to do it for her."
"You're not mad?"
"Hell no! If I got mad, that would ruin the party, and I've just begun to enjoy myself with your big tool! Besides, I know what you mean. Sometimes I could take three pricks into me at once and not give a damn who was hung on the end of them!"
Her thighs fell wide apart again, and her cunt snapped open wetly. He crawled up her body into her arms and fit his hips into the saddle of her loins.
"Mmm, stick me, Bob! Shove that prick into my hole and I'll twist it and tie it up in knots for you!"
Her hand went down between them and gripped his prick. She guided it into her hole, rubbing the tip up and down her slippery, open cleft and moaning. Then she was lifting her hips for him, her soft, pliant buttocks coming up off the bed.
His cock sank into her soft hole. He felt the exciting invasion go all the way up his prick and into his spine.
Her cunt was wet! It was soft and wet and ready!
"Ohhh!" he moaned, sinking his weight into the cradle of her thighs.
Her legs went up and locked around his waist. Then she began a slow rocking motion that drove his prick in and out of her pussy with slow, gentle strokes.
"Oh, that's wonderful!" he cried.
"Doesn't your wife do this, honey?"
"No! She just lies there like a goddamn board and lets me do all the work!"
"Can she do this with her pussy?"
Janice stopped moving a moment. Her face strained, and then Bob felt her pussy muscles rippling firmly around his dick, sucking inward as if trying to pull his rod all the way up into her womb.
"No! Oh, Jesus!"
"You like that?"
"Wonderful!" he gasped.
She started her rocking motion again, opening her cunt wide for him. Her muscles continued to strip his prick all along its length. Then she was putting an extra twist into her butt that made her whole cunt bend his cock at a delicious angle.
"What are you doing!" he cried.
"I'm fucking you, honey!" she said.
"Oh, don't stop!"
She laughed. "Are you there all ready?" "Almost!"
"You horny bastard-let it come! Go ahead, Bob, squirt your jizz into my pussy and make me feel it!"
She speeded up, running her heels up and down the cleft of his ass, digging her nails into his back. Her cunt sucked and pulled on his cock, rotating and twisting around it in soft, slippery motions that drove him mad with delight.
He couldn't help himself. In a reflex motion he banged up and down against her crotch, driving his prick all the way into her body. His pelvic bone mashed against her clit, making her yelp with pleasure. He could feel his full balls banging and slapping at the tender meat of her perineum as he bounced her ass up and down on the bed.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she went in rhythm to his fucking hips. She tossed her head and moaned, biting his ear with her nipping teeth.
Bob was going nuts. Barbara never did anything like this for him. He'd never had such a wild fuck in his life!
Janice yelled happily in his ear suddenly. "Fuck me, baby, I'm coming! Oh, you goddamn fucker! What a boss-man! What a fucking stud!"
Her legs uncoiled and shot straight into the air. She yelped and whooped and bit his neck with joyous passion. Then her ass was shaking and quivering all around his cock, making him come with her.
His prick bucked and jerked. The knob of his cock danced against the mouth of her womb as he drove it into her body. Then his cum was spurting into her belly in thundering waves of heat, filling her canal, dripping and gushing from his prick in a flood that made everything slippery to the point of madness.
He pumped and yelled hoarsely, cupping her ass in his hands, pulling her cunt up around his jerking cock and her thighs around his waist. He felt the tips of her tits burning into his chest with their throbbing heat, and he held onto her ass for dear life, fucking and fucking as he had never fucked before.
"Oh, Janice!" he gasped. "Baby! What have I been missing all these years! My God, I'm going to have a heart attack!"
Her spine was still arched up against him, making her tits flatten around his hot nipples.
"Man!" she gasped with a strangled voice. "Oh, Mr. Miller, what your prick does to me! Why didn't you pay more attention to me in the past so we could have been doing this sooner?"
A pair of hands clapped from behind Bob, followed by a feminine giggle. Then a man's voice said, "Bravo, bravo--encore for the fuck scene!"
He froze, his cock still throbbing in Janice's pussy, but now for a different reason. He felt ready to piss in her.
"Wally!" she cried happily. "Honey, what are you doing home?"
Wally came into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at them and grinned at Bob.
"You must be Bob Miller," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Janice's husband. She told me you might be coming over tonight. Great piece of ass, isn't she?"
Bob looked up dumbly. He saw the big man, the big grin on his face, and the big hand. But it was out flat, palm up, wanting to shake instead of bash his face in. He took his hand from under Janice's soft butt and shook stupidly. His prick began to shrivel inside her pussy, and he could feel his cum dribbling around the root of it, bubbling out of her hole and soaking into the bed-the bed of the man looking down on his naked ass.
"Hi," he said shakily.
The hands pumped up and down. "Hey, man, don't be bashful! This is the scene! This is what it's all about! Meet Sue--I brought her home to join the party because I didn't know whether you liked threesomes, and I didn't want to wreck the fun!"
A small brunette came over to the bed from the doorway fidgeting with her hands and giggling. She had her head tucked down like a little girl caught wetting her pants only liking the feeling of it.
"Hi!" she chirped.
She put her hands behind her back and wiggled back and forth. Her tits were full and pointed, thrusting out from her small chest obscenely. She had a very short waist which was pinched in tightly and then flared into wide, lush hips.
"That's Bob Miller, my wife Janice ... and you know me, sweetie."
"Yeah!" she chirped again.
"Hi, Sue!" Janice said brightly. "Pardon me if I don't get up, but I've just been fucked! Whew!
What a prick! You've heard of pricky bosses--here's mine!"
Sue and Wally laughed. In a moment, Bob was laughing, too. His cock wrinkled and slipped out of Janice's pussy with a wet sound. Sue saw it, all shiny and covered with the mixture of their cum, and her eyes popped open.
"Ooo,that is a big one! I want it!"
She made a motion toward his lap, but Wally reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Hey, honey, you haven't seen mine yet. Wanna see it? Then you can decide which of us to fuck first."
"All right!"
But her eyes were glued to Janice's pussy, seeing the grayish-white cum bubbling out of it and running down to the crack of her ass.
Wally grinned. "Maybe you won't want either one of us, huh? You like to suck pussy? Jan loves it!"
She giggled and nodded, and her tits seemed to swell outward.
"Hey, Wally, she's cute!" Janice said, propping herself on her elbows and keeping her thighs splayed apart. "Where'd you find her? How come you're back so early? Hell, I was looking forward to making a total wreck of my boss before you got back!"
"Ahh, the damned meeting was canceled. So they told me to come back home. Rod told me about her at the last swap party, so I called her. Her old man's out of town, too, and I thought ... well, shit, you know what I thought!
To hell with all this talking, I'm ready for some sex! Honest to hell, Bob, the way you steamed her up last night before I left, I've been dreaming about a hot cunt all day. Frankly, I'm glad to be home. Thanks for the favor-that was the wildest fuck old Jan's given me in a long time."
"It was my pleasure, Wally," Bob said.
"You boys talk too much," Sue said. "Who's first!"
She started stripping out of her clothes. Her big, pointed tits flew into the room. Even Janice gasped over them. Then she was shucking out of her skirt and panties, and the muff of her pussy bushed out thickly. She cupped a tit with one hand and started sucking on the end of it.
"Look at that!" Janice exclaimed enviously. "Boy, I wish I could do that! What a way to turn on!"
"Yeah!" Sue chirped. Then she plugged a finger into her pussy and waggled it around until the sounds were sloppy. She held her finger under Wally's nose, making him sniff it.
"Ahhh, gorgeous!" he groaned. He started working on his shirt and pants.
"Tell you what," Bob said, looking at her. "Why don't you and Wally go ahead."
"Bob's still kind of shy," Janice winked, grinning at him.
"Shy, hell! I need a rest! I'm not used to all this fucking!"
He had a big grin on his face. The word came out freely and full of resonance. He looked at Janice and laughed, and then she was laughing with him, running her hands up and down his body.
"See!" she said. "I told you you'd feel a hellofa lot better if you said it!"
"Said it! I just did it! Whoopee!"
He and Janice fell into a tangle of legs and arms, laughing and giggling about their own private joke. Wally watched them for a moment, then turned to Sue. His prick stood out fully.
"Come here, honey," he growled.
"You bet, daddy!" she chirped, bowling him over backwards on the crowded bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Fuck her, Wally! Stick that big prick into her belly and fill her up!"
Janice sat up on the bed with one tit in her hand and watched her husband pile-driving his cock into the small brunette. She squeezed the tit and moaned, letting the fingers of her other hand fondle Bob's cock and balls.
He lay back with his ear pillowed against her other tit. The bed bounced and jiggled with the groaning efforts of the couple next to them, and Janice's nipple ran in and out of his ear, tickling it. He settled back to enjoy everything that was happening around him and let his legs fall open so that she would have easy access to his crotch.
He was swiftly losing all the inhibitions Barbara had instilled in him. He watched Wally's hairy butt pump up and down and listened to Janice's encouragement of his efforts when Sue began to moan.
There were moments when Bob thought he was dreaming it all-that it couldn't really be happening to him. Not after his starvation diet for so many years. But when Sue cried out, on the verge of coming, he looked at her face and bucking hips and knew that it was unquestionably real.
"God, look at them go, Bob!" Janice cried again, tugging on the shaft of his prick. "Look at her, she's about to come!"
"Yeah," Bob choked. "I can see that!"
"Don't you wish you were fucking her instead of Wally? She looks like a hot, twisty fuck to me. She's built for screwing her ass around better than I am. Mmm, I know what she's feeling! That husband of mine is a going fucker!"
Bob looked at her. Her eyes were bright and shining. It seemed weird that she would be in the office with him tomorrow just like every other day, sitting out in front at her desk. She ought to be somebody else-two different people. One here, holding his prick-the other there, typing his memos.
"Now you're the one who's not making nice remarks," he said, closing his lips over the nipple of the tit in her hand.
She looked down, giggled, and fed the soft cone to his mouth. "What do you mean by that?"
"What you just said-wishing you were getting Wally's cock in you instead of mine. You're giving me an inferiority complex." He wrapped his tongue around her nipple again, sucking it into his mouth.
"Don't be silly, Mr. Miller," she laughed, jerking on his prick playfully. "You were wonderful! Are you ready for more?"
"In just a minute," he said.
Beside them, Sue cried out throatily. She lifted her legs into the air and came and came, squealing and groaning around the stuffing tube of Wally's cock. They could see it running in and out of her cunt, making the muscles of her hole grip and quiver around his thick root. She shook her head on the pillow and raked his broad back with her nails, moaning anew when he kept right on banging her, forcing her to come to another peak.
Janice shook her head in wonder. "He just keeps going and going. It's marvelous, sometimes. Sometimes it drives me crazy. He'll never let me quit with just one orgasm. It must feed his ego or something. Can you make your wife do it more than once?"
Bob laughed coarsely. "Shit, I'm lucky if I can make her come at all! Once a month--sometimes twice."
"Is that all the ass you get!" She sat up straight with astonishment.
Bob shrugged, feeling ashamed. He watched Wally's pounding ass with envy. "Well, that's all she will give in to for herself."
"You mean you can fuck her more often, but she won't respond, is that it?"
"Yeah-how did you guess?"
"Oh, that's the way lots of couples are when they finally realize something's wrong and they come into the club. We soon cure that. Usually, it's the husband's fault because he doesn't know how to get a woman hot. Maybe he's too anxious and comes early, before she's had a chance to get going. Maybe he's too rough and turns her off. Sometimes they just don't know how to move right, and it hurts or just plain doesn't feel good the way it ought to."
"Which category do I belong in?"
"None of them, honest! You're a good fucker!"
Bob shook his head. "That's what I thought, too. At least I never had any complaints before I got married."
"Pardon me for asking a personal question, but why did you marry her? I mean, considering the way she is now ... didn't you try her out first, before tying the knot?"
He sneered ruefully. "Yeah. That was the problem."
"What do you mean? Tell me about it, Bob, you promised. I can't understand ... she looks so cold in that picture you have."
He put his head in her lap, letting his mind turn over the past. His fingers dabbled with her pussy lips, prying them apart, running inside the slick cleft, tangling in the curly hair. His face was close to her cunt, and he watched what his fingers were doing, and he could smell her heady aroma, too. The bed shook, and another groan filled the room as Sue exploded a second time. Wally kept driving without pause.
"There was a party," Bob said, remembering it all vividly. "It was right after I passed the bar exam. All the new young lawyers were supposed to attend, along with the old ones, the professors, and their wives. I didn't have a date."
"You didn't go out with girls?"
"I did, but not much. There isn't time for that when you're studying hard. I guess that was the problem. I'd gotten too horny, and then the pressures of the big event...."
"Barbara was there, wasn't she?"
"Yeah. She sure was."
"Don't tell me. You fell like a ton of bricks."
He laughed. "Something like that. Anyway, she dropped the old guy she was with. I never understood that part of it--he was ancient enough to be her father, but the way he was patting her ass and leering at her tits, he couldn't have been that. She escaped, and the next thing I knew, we were running out of the house for my car."
"Go on. This is getting interesting. I think I know already."
"Well, I guess I thought I was pretty important right then. New degree, full of idealism and talking about how rich I was going to be-I did a little bragging, I guess. We wound up in a motel." He shrugged. "What's to say? She gave me the works, and I was ripe for it."
"What did she do?"
"Everything."
"Say it--tell me!"
"We fucked like crazy at first. When I ran my hot, long-deprived prick into her, I thought the top of my head was going to come off. After that, she sucked my balls dry. I'd never had anything like it until you did me just now. Then she had me fuck her ass, and I nearly flipped."
"You liked that?"
He grinned. "You know it."
"What else did she do?"
"She ate me."
"You mean your cock again."
"No, she ate my asshole! She ran her tongue in and then sucked on my anus with her lips. While she was doing it, she jacked me off with her hand and made me come all over the bed. It was fantastic!"
"Ooo!" Janice squealed, shivering. "I've never done that! I'll bet it's great! Would you like me to try it with you? I'll do you if you'll do me afterward. You can flick my clit."
His prick jumped in her fingers. Wally's buttocks clenched together tightly, and he bore down into Sue's gyrating body, groaning and yelling hoarsely. Janice and Bob stopped talking long enough to watch his ass tremble and buck as spurt after spurt of his jizz shot hotly into Sue's cunt and came bubbling out around the root of his big prick. She writhed and twisted under his weight, making him come very hard. Then she yelled in his ear for the third time and climaxed with such force that she farted.
This sent Sue into peals of laughter and giggling. Wally groaned and pulled his prick out, starting to laugh himself.
"I think I need a beer on that one," he said, puffing. "You guys want to join us?"
"In a minute, Wally," Janice smiled, wiping his cock off with her hand. It was all slippery with his and Sue's hot cum. "Bob's telling me his life story right now, and I don't want him to stop."
"Oh! Well, we don't want to interrupt that scene." He smacked Sue on her full butt with the palm of his hand. "Come on, Windy, let's see what's in the kitchen. Maybe Janice was a good wife and didn't eat her cucumber. You'll dig that!"
When they'd left, giggling and hugging each other, Janice spread herself out on the bed. She stretched grandly, arching her spine up so that her tits and cunt shoved up toward Bob's face. He kissed her body from top to bottom, pausing to delve his tongue into the slit of her pussy and make her moan with pleasure. She gripped his head and pushed it away from her twat.
"None of that," she said. "Not until you've told me everything. What else happened in that hot motel room?"
Bob settled down beside her, playing with her belly button. "Everything," he said. "Variations on what I've already told you. And then I asked her to marry me."
Janice groaned. "Oh, no-o-o!"
"What?"
"You! Trapped like a big bear in the pit of her cunt!"
"Yeah, I guess so. I thought that fucking would go on forever, but it didn't. Oh, there were other things, too, besides that. It wasn't just sex. You know when you're going to hit it off with somebody. Trouble is, those other things got lost someplace when the sex left."
"When was that?"
"Right away. It was never that wild again. Now ... now it's like fucking a corpse. Except that a corpse can't look at you and make you feel guilty all the time."
"Guilty?"
"Yeah."
"Of what?"
"Nothing!"
She looked at him, raising her head to search his face. Then she plopped back down again. "Bullshit," she said.
"What do you mean, 'bullshit'!" His voice was edgy. He was suddenly her boss again, unwilling to tolerate such an accusation.
"Don't get stuffy, Bob; I can see it all over you. Your hands are shaking again. What did you do, dick somebody on the side?"
"No." "You mean I'm your first?" "I didn't say that." "Boy, are you an ego builder!" "But you are," he said.
"Hell, now I don't believe you," she pouted. "And I thought I was kind of busting your cherry or something."
"You did, Janice!"
She looked at him again, studying him. "Then it's something that happened before you got married. That's it, isn't it!"
She punched her finger into his ribs, and he broke away with a yell. He couldn't stop from grinning.
"All right," she demanded playfully, "what's the horrible secret? Screw your sister?" "Don't have one."
"Your mother? Grandmother? It happens, you know." "Of course not!"
"How about a guy? A little pricky-suck?"
Bob swallowed. His mouth felt suddenly dry.
"That's it?" she asked, screwing up her face. "Is that all? My God, don't go around hung up over a thing like that! Hell, everybody goes through that stage at one time or another!"
He blinked at her. "They do?"
"Sure! You just saw Sue eyeing up my pussy, didn't you? She's no Lesbian. And you wouldn't say I was a rampant butch, would you?"
"Hell, no!"
"All right, then! But if Sue wants to eat out my cunt, I'm sure not going to stop her. And if I'm horny and there's nowhere else to go, then I'll fuck with her just as hard as with you. You saw Wally just now. He likes a little bisexual action now and then himself, and you know what a virile, cunt-banging son of a bitch he is!"
Bob nodded, looking at her as if for the first time. "You make it all sound so simple," he said.
"Honey, it is simple- she's the one making it difficult! If you ask me, she ought to get her cunt eaten raw and her ass reamed out by my big toy, and then she'll quit holding it over your head."
Bob thought of what Miss Prissy-Pussy would look like with Janice's blonde head bobbing between her thighs or Sue's plump butt bouncing up and down on her ass, cramming her cheeks full with a rubber prick. He had to laugh.
"That would put an end to it, wouldn't it!" he cried happily.
"It sure would!" she grinned. "Then maybe she'd come across more often for you."
The thought raced through his mind. How simple the solution would be. The only difficult part was to get her into the position where she would willingly have another woman eat her black-haired cunt. Shit, he couldn't even get at it himself.
"I told you, honey," she said, gripping his limp cock in her hand again, "just get her to one of our swap parties. I've never seen a reluctant woman go away horny yet!"
"Speaking of horny ..." he said, watching her fingers play with his prick.
She laughed and kissed him. "You want to make up for lost time, huh?"
"Yeah," he said. "Don't look now, but you're making my little thing get all stiff again."
She put her face into his groin. "Ooo, I think you're right, sweetie. It isn't little any more. In fact, it's getting bigger and bigger. What do you suppose it's trying to say?"
"I think it wants to fuck," he grinned.
She opened her mouth and captured the tip of his prick between her soft lips again. She sucked on it until it was fully erected and throbbing at the tip. He groaned and pushed gently at her head.
"Not.. . wait... I want something else!"
She lifted her head off, sucking her lips hungrily.
"What, honey? What do you want? After the way you've been suffering all these years, you deserve whatever you want. You want Wally, maybe? I think he likes you enough to--" "No, I want you!"
"Me and Sue? Two girls at the same time? All men want that!" "Maybe later. Right now, though, just you." "How?"
"Well ... in your ass?"
"Sweetie, don't ask! Just say it! And you can say that any time, because I love it Greek!"
She switched around on the bed and rested on her elbows and knees. She pushed her ass into the air and opened her thighs wide. Bob looked at the crinkly ring of her anus and saw it quiver with excitement. Underneath her crotch, he saw the puffy lips of her pussy and the curly golden hairs trying vainly to cover it.
"Come on, baby!" she moaned, weaving her butt sideways.
"I'm looking!" he said. "Just feasting my eyes on your pussy and ass!"
"Oh, you poor, starved man-tell me what you see!" She wiggled again.
"Your cunt just opened up when you did that," he said. "Oh, now it's starting to drip! Here it comes!" "Catch it!"
He put his hand under her twat. A string of hot juice settled into his palm. "What should I do with it?" "Anything you want to--smell it, lick it off your hand, smear it over my ass-anything! That's how it's done, big boss!"
He looked at the shiny fluid. He lifted his hand to his nose and inhaled deeply. He grew dizzy from the heady smell of her sex. His cock throbbed. He smeared her cum on the tip of it and felt it jerk in his hand.
"What are you doing now, playing with yourself?"
She was looking at him upside down through the double vee of her dangling tits and spread thighs. He jerked his hand away and looked at her sheepishly.
"Don't be ashamed of that," she said. "My God, you're hung up!"
"I ... I ... do you play with yourself too? I mean, is that all right to do?"
She grinned at him. "Sure it is! I do it sometimes. Why not? It feels good, doesn't it?"
"Do it!" he said excitedly.
"Play with myself? I thought you wanted to fuck my ass."
"Do it for a minute-no, stay like that, I want to watch your fingers!"
She grinned at him and rested her weight on her forehead. Her ass went up higher, and blood rushed to her face, making it red. Her hands cupped her dangling tits, and she squeezed them for him.
"Oh, your pussy lips are fluttering open! Does that make you hot, feeling your own tits?"
"What happens to you when you feel your prick-the way you did a minute ago? I saw it jerking."
"Pricks are more sensitive than tits. Is that all you're going to do?" She didn't answer. Instead, she put one hand at her crotch. She spread her thighs wider, letting him see her ass completely. Fingers peeped out from between her legs. Then she drew them back up, running one of them into her cunt.
"Ohhh!" she moaned. Her mouth fell open. Her butt started moving. Her finger went into her hole up to her palm, and he watched it happen.
"God, do something!" she cried. "I'm getting hot! Do you want me to waste a good come on a damn finger?"
His prick trembled with his heat. He put his palms on her meaty buttocks and growled, getting to his knees. He pressed up behind her, and she raised up higher, reaching under her pussy to grab his dick. She angled and cocked her butt and stuffed his prick into her cunt.
"Arrrgh!" he groaned. "I don't want it there!"
He pumped in and out of her pussy, feeling her buttocks press tightly against the fronts of his thighs. She made up-and-down motions with her pelvis and fondled his balls with her fingers as they dangled and swung between his legs.
"Just for a minute," she said. "Just long enough to get your prick good and wet so it'll go in easier."
"A minute's going to be too long!" he gasped. He felt the tight pressure of her ass cheeks squeezing around the very root of his cock, and his balls began to lift and tighten in her fingers.
She jerked forward, and his prick slipped out of her pussy. She looked around the side of her hip at him, and her eyes were liquid and hot. She wriggled her ass, seeing the slippery cum shining on the shaft of his cock.
"Now!" she cried. "Plug my asshole, boss! Stick it in like I've seen you wanting to do every time I bend over my desk! Plug it! Stick it in deep!"
He whined like an excited puppy and palmed her ass cheeks apart. She gripped his cock from beneath her pussy and guided the tip of it toward her asshole. The throbbing glans probed around in the soft crack between her cheeks and then caught in the puckered brown mouth.
"Mmm, push! No, wait ... there! Now! Slower. . . hnnnh, oh, yes! Oh, God, what a prick!"
Bob felt his cock gripped by strong muscles. He groaned and pulled back on her hips, skewering her ass on the lance of his cock. A dark, clinging warmth enveloped his shaft. His groin pressed against the fleshy globes of her ass and felt them clamping around the root of his starved, throbbing, shuddering prick.
"Faster!" she cried.
He pulled back, moaning over the way her butt gripped his cock tightly, nearly pulling it off his belly. He pressed in again and made her gurgle in her throat. He leaned across her back and reached under her body, cupping her tits and rolling them in his hands. He touched her pussy with his Fingers and found the coiled ball of nerves at the top of her slit. He rubbed the hooded clitoris until she whimpered. His thumb slipped hotly into her cunt, and he felt the rounded tube of his dick pumping in and out of her ass through the thin membrane separating the two canals.
He was doing it! He'd dreamed of doing it to Barbara again for so long! He watched Janice lift her head and bleat loudly with passion, and his balls swelled.
"Gaaah!" she cried. "Fuck me, you big-pricked fucker!"
Bob rammed into her ass, making her whole body rock and jerk forward with his punishing onslaught. The bed started banging into the wall, he was fucking her so hard. He was getting terrible close, and he thought about what would happen when he came-the way his cum would squirt up into her rectum and foam inside her belly.
"Hey man, what's this beautiful scene?"
Wally's voice startled him. He looked around sheepishly, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. What a hellofaway to be caught fucking another man's wife!
But Wally wasn't sweating it. He passed his hand over Bob's driving ass and sat on the bed to watch. He grinned and reached under Janice's chest to fondle her tit.
"How's he doing, honey?" he asked. "Is he learning?"
CHAPTER SIX
Janice twisted her head around and looked at her husband. Her eyes had tears of joy in them. Her mouth was falling slack, and her tongue was hanging out. She moaned loudly, her head hobbling around on her neck as Bob's plunging ass bucked her spine up and down.
"Ohhh!" she moaned. "Hnnnh! Oh, Wally! Oh, honey, what a wild fucker he is! Oh, baby, I'm going to come big! God, Wally, he's driving me-unnh!-up the fucking wall! He's a pro ... a pro!"
"Oh, Janice," Sue said, going around the side of the bed, her eyes locked to the gurgling tongue hanging out of the blonde's mouth. "Honey, you look so hot! Mmm, I can't stand to see all that tongue go to waste, sweetie-would you mind?"
Janice could only groan her answer. Sue smiled happily and bounced up onto the bed in front of the blonde. Her tits swung and bobbed on her chest. Her butt flared outward when she sat on it and spread her thighs. She started scooting her small body under Janice's chest until her dark-furred pussy was under the dangling tongue.
Bob looked along Janice's back and saw Sue cupping her big tits in her hands. He saw the look of rapture that crossed her face and the way her torso was writhing and making her butt dig into the mattress with passion.
Janice moaned again and dropped her head. Sue cried out as the long tongue lapped up the pink slit of her cunt and then stabbed hotly inside.
"Janice!" she cried, gripping the sides of the blonde's head.
Bob banged away at her squirming, swiveling ass. The sight of the woman he was fucking licking the pussy in front of her made his dick throb outward another inch. In his wildest dreams, he'd never imagined anything like this happening. Then he was startled by the feel of Wally's hand on his ass again.
"Hey, man-that's some beautiful music there, isn't it? Need any help? I got a peter that's waking up and wanting to come to the party."
Bob looked around fearfully. Wally had his big, heavy prick in his hand, and was pointing it toward Bob's ass.
The bastard wanted to brown him while he was browning his wife who was sucking off Sue!
Bob missed a beat, throwing Janice off stride and making Sue cry out and clutch the blonde head at her thighs.
"What's the matter? A little gun-shy?" Wally asked, stroking his big cock with his fist.
"Yeah," Bob said. "I...."
"Don't sweat it, man. I see another opening up there. Give your ass a little more twist--that drives Jan nuts."
Wally crawled along the bed, pausing to bend down to see that Janice was doing a good job of licking on Sue's cunt, and then he climbed up and straddled the little brunette's chest, slapping her hands away from her tits.
"You don't have to play with those any more," he said. "I'll take care of that."
He grabbed his prick and pointed it toward Sue's open mouth. She took it between her lips and sucked on it greedily, with wet, smacking noises.
Bob saw Wally lifting his ass up and feeling around underneath it, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Sue's tits. Then he settled back down, got up and tried again, all the while keeping his heavy cock in her mouth.
At last he settled back down and moaned. The crack of his ass was off to one side of her chest, and Bob knew what had happened. One of the big nipples on her pointed tits was stuffed into his asshole!
Suddenly, he couldn't stand it any longer. He could feel his prostate giving way to the huge charge of semen bubbling up from his balls. It seeped out the end of his prick, making Janice's asshole more and more slippery. His cock drove in and out the tight channel, and he started to moan.
Little grunts of pleasure turned into a long, drawn-out gasp of delight as he felt everything in his crotch give way. His cock bucked and jerked and spit forth great wads of jizz into her ass.
"Gnaaah!" he croaked. "Look out! Here it comes!"
"Shoot it to me, baby!" Janice yelled, wiggling her ass backwards furiously. His fingers dug into her cunt and his prick stuffed her asshole full, shooting jizz into her innards like a white-hot enema. Her tongue stabbed into Sue's sweet cunt, and she felt the honeyed juices inside slither down her tongue into her throat as Sue bucked her hips high and ground her pussy into Janice's mouth.
Wally groaned and stuffed his cock into Sue's throat. Her tit nipple reamed up his asshole, and his balls jerked and spit cum up the tube of his prick.
They groaned and struggled together, filling each other's bodies with the lust of sex and the juices of its passion. They quivered and hunched and fucked until they were dizzy, and then they rolled apart, groaning as if they were going to die.
"Oh, Jesus!" Bob cried.
Janice crawled weakly over him. Her butt was in the air, and jizz bubbled out of her asshole and ran down the crack to her cunt. It dripped onto the bed.
"What's the matter, lover?" she asked, mopping his brow.
"Janice, I've never had anything so wonderful in my life!" he gasped.
"Yeah, it was pretty sexy, wasn't it? Especially after Wally and Sue got into it."
"I tried to climb him," Wally said, "but the answer was no. I don't dig."
Janice smiled at her husband while she lazily wiped the brownish-white streaks of cum off Bob's flagging prick.
"Don't be insulted, Wally, it isn't you. His wife's been ripping him for a little pricky-suck she found out about before they were married."
He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Man, I'm sorry. That kind of scene can be rough when baby doesn't dig what it's all about." He grinned with his big teeth again to show Bob there were no hard feelings.
Sue smacked her lips in savoring manner. She giggled. "I don't know what all the fuss is about. Wally's got the sweetest cum I've ever tasted. How have I missed you at our parties, big man?"
He grinned again. "You won't any more, baby." He looked at Bob. "She's a cocksucker, man. Don't hesitate."
Sue giggled again and pursed her lips at Bob. "Yeah, sweetie, when are you coming-to the party, I mean?"
Bob looked at all of them in turn. "Well, I don't know. I mean, it sounds great, and if this is anything like what you do at your parties, I'll be glad to come to the next one."
Janice laughed. "He's so eager he can't stand it, but he won't admit it. The poor guy's been starved for five years."
"Yeah?" Wally said again. "Gee, what's the bad scene, don't you dig each other?"
Bob told them the story. "I don't understand what happened after that first night, but she's really turned off. I thought I was going sterile prematurely. I'm glad Janice woke me up."
"I'd like to wake you up, too," Sue giggled. "This party's been awfully one-sided so far."
Janice poked a finger into Sue's pussy and laughed. "That little box of yours is nearly as hot as mine is," she said.
"Listen, man," Wally said suddenly, frowning in concentration. "I've been turning your problem over in the light of my mind, and it keeps coming up like a pancake, you dig? Round. Round, man-like a circle. Like, what this Barbara lady needs is a little tongue action from one of our beautiful chicks."
"That's what I said," Janice blurted. "Then the shoe's on the other foot."
"Oh, there's more, blonde-box, there's definitely more. A little action from the other way is indicated in the positive. A rod-man is in order first. This will wake her up. Then after her big, pink eye is opened wet and wide--then! Then's the time!"
His own eyes were open wide, and his eyebrows were arched high on his forehead. He had one finger in the air, gesticulating with it.
Bob grinned and then the smile faded. "I don't know," he said. "I like the plan. I think it would work--if this really is the problem. But I don't know how I could get her to agree to come to a swap party."
"She's gotta come, man," Wally said, crossing his legs. His voice was suddenly serious. "It pains me hard to be the one to poop in the bowl of rosy punch, but the rules are plain. This free lunch you've been gobbling down your chin can't last until the end of time."
Bob frowned and glanced at Janice.
"What he means, Bob, is that the party tonight has to be repaid at some time, or I can't go on with you. Neither can Sue, nor any of the others. It's club rules."
"I still don't understand," he said.
"Like, man, you've gotten free fucks up here. You dug my chick. Turning the other cheek is only fair games, daddy. I get to dig yours, or Jan comes back home to Poppa, get me?"
"Yeah, I get you."
"That's what makes us swappers," Janice said. "If the husband and wife can't quite make up their minds, or one of them is reluctant, then we take you on one at a time just to show you what it's like and the benefits you can get from belonging. But then the man who's sacrificing his wife, or vice versa, ought to get his chance at the other partner, or he's getting cheated. Then it's just like the old game of stepping out on your husband and getting strange dick. Sue, for instance, is obligated to tell her husband what's happened up here tonight. Then if later on you decide to fuck her, her man gets a chance at Barbara. That way, nobody's cheated, nobody feels left out or hurt, and it's all just good fun."
Bob looked at the big man facing him. His eyes dropped to the heavy cock that coiled limply between his legs.
"What if Wally isn't Barbara's type? I mean, what is she doesn't want to screw him? Will your force her?"
"No, man! No force! Force isn't fun, it's pain! You know-unless the chick digs pain, then that's a pony with a new coat of paint. Persuasion, is the word!"
Janice laughed. "When she gets there, and everybody around her starts stripping off their clothes and feeling each other up, there isn't much persuasion required. It just gets hot!"
"Yeah," Wally said, staring off as though in a trance. "A rod-man First, and then the chicks. I'll pass the word. If she doesn't dig me, then maybe Rod-man the original himself!"
Sue giggled at Bob's expression. "That's my husband," she said. "His name's Rod Banner. They call him Rod Banger, and I can tell you why! I just know Barbara will go for him. All the girls do." She wrinkled her nose and searched hard for a word. "He's so ... so primitive!" she said, giggling again.
"Oh, is he your husband?" Janice squealed. "Oh, my, yes! He'd be perfect!"
Sue giggled again. "I can tell you've had his treatment, haven't you?"
Janice shivered uncontrollably. "Did I ever! Last time. Ooo, just thinking about him gives me goose-bumps. He's so vile!"
She pouted and clamped her legs together. "That's not a nice thing to say about my husband." She didn't giggle.
"Oh, I don't mean anything bad by it, honey! He was exciting! It's just that I've never...." She glanced at Bob. "Well, you know what I mean, I'm sure."
Sue quit pouting. Her feathers were smoothed again. Her thighs spread apart, and she laid her finger along the slit of her pussy, wiggling it up and down.
"It's settled!" Wally announced, getting up. "We'll make a wife of Barbara Miller! All in favor say aye!"
The girls chorused the word, and Bob smiled. For such a big, serious-looking man, Wally was really a clown. He suddenly liked Wally, and began looking forward to the first meeting of the group.
"I got sumthin' else to say," Sue piped up, giggling again.
"Speak!" Wally said theatrically.
"If Rod's going to work on Barbara, then I think Bob ought to find out if the trade will be fair."
She swung her thighs wide and removed the finger from her slit. She brought her other hand down and spread the lips of her pussy apart and aimed her cunt at Bob.
"What an excuse!" Janice laughed at her. "You've just got a hot box you want to have stuffed up again, that's all."
Sue giggled. She hunched her pelvis up and down, waiting.
Bob felt his prick throb to life again. He didn't know about Barbara or Rod, but he knew he'd been sizing up that hot little body of Sue's ever since he saw Wally pounding up and down on it.
Janice was right. She did look like a hot, twisting fuck.
"I see the sign of the phallus!" Wally said, standing up precariously on the bed. He was pointing his finger down at Bob's lap at the stiffening cock between his thighs.
"Let's swap!" Bob cried, his head giddy with emotion.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was unnerving.
Bob crawled up the bed and pressed his hot palms against Sue's inner thighs and pushed them apart. He stared down into the slick slit of her pussy. He felt her hand pump his rod a few times to get it good and hard and point it toward her cunt. He pressed forward and slid all the way into her body until the tip of his prick caught tight at the mouth of her cervix. He groaned with the tight, twisting feel of her cunt.
And Sue giggled.
"Ohhh!" he moaned again. "Why are you giggling?"
"Because it feels so good! Your prick isn't as fat as Wally's, but it sure is longer! I can feel it all the way up inside me, and it tickles!"
"Crazy chick, boss man," Wally commented, shaking his head. He stood over their locked bodies, watching. "Give her the good feeling, man, she turns on high."
Bob felt him walking around the bed with his big feet, making the mattress sag disconcertingly when he was still trying to get settled in the soft cradle of her thighs. He pumped in and out of her body a few times before Wally grabbed Janice, lifted her to his waist by the soft globes of her buttocks, and clumped down off the bed.
Bob looked around to see her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms around his neck. Wally supported her weight with his cupping hands, palms up, like an ancient Roman serving his offering to the gods. His prick speared into the soft meat of her cunt, and his hips were canted forward to catch some of her weight on them. He carried her out of the room. She squealed and drummed her heels against the small of his back and wriggled her ass around on his lancing prick.
"To the kitchen, slave," he cried dramatically. "Yon cucumber awaits with goosing bumps!"
"Oh, Wally, no! Not the cucumber again!"
"Aye. verily!"
Janice laughed happily, biting his shoulder with nipping teeth. When they rounded the door frame, Sue pulled on Bob's neck with her arms.
"It's all private, Bob," she said, grinning. "Let's fuck up a storm! That's what my Rod always says before we do it!"
She giggled again and rotated her short--waisted pelvis under him in a way that made her pussy grab his prick and bend it in a maddeningly exotic way.
Bob grinned back at her. She was short on brains, maybe, but everything else she had made up for it. He groaned and slid his cock inside the tight, constricting arch she'd made of her pussy, feeling shivers of delight go up his spine.
He felt the plush cones of her tits pushing against his chest. He bent his head and twisted down and sucked on one of them, drawing it far into his mouth. He licked the rubbery nipple with his tongue and made it pop up hard and long.
"Ooo, I like that!" Sue cried. "Rod's so big and tall he can't fuck and suck my tits at the same time. Mmm, that's exciting! Oh, lover, I like screwing with you!"
She put her hands on his head and arched her back, shoving her tit fully into his mouth. It flattened out against his face and nose, making it hard for him to breathe. The soft flesh pillowed up around his face, and he wallowed his head back and forth, growing dizzy. Then she was urging him to suck the other one.
Bob shifted his head over to the other side of her chest. He clamped his mouth around the pointed tit and then stopped. It tasted like shit.
He tried to spit her tit out, but her hands were wound around his head, mashing it down onto her cone so hard he couldn't move. He suddenly remembered the way Wally had stuffed the big-nippled tit into his asshole while Sue was sucking his prick, and he gagged. He struggled and twisted on the top of her body, needing fresh air.
"Oh!" Sue cried happily. "Oh, lover! What a fucker! Screw around some more! Mmm, shit, most guys don't know how to do that--sucking and fucking at the same time! Bob, you're driving me crazy!"
Bob groaned inwardly. She thought he was fucking her hard! He wanted to cry out and beat the tit from his mouth. But Sue didn't understand his plight. She kept on twisting and rolling her pelvis around, squeezing her cunt muscles on his cock and pulling it deeper into her body.
Bob was torn. This was the wildest fuck he'd ever had! Her cunt was twisting his prick around in knots! He couldn't believe the control she had over it. It sucked and rippled all along his flaming shaft. Her pelvis rocked and twisted until he saw stars. No wonder Wally had kept on and on, plugging her endlessly-he didn't want to have to quit!
Bob groaned and felt his hips being tossed like a leaf in the wind. He suddenly didn't care about her tit. The taste was nearly gone anyway, and she was loving what his lips were doing to her. If he quit sucking, then maybe she'd quit bending his prick in the soft folds of her pussy.
He rammed in hard and slobbered all around her shitty tit.
"Lover! Baby! Ohhh!" she moaned. "Ah! Plug me! Plug my ass with your finger!"
As if to show him how, she ran her hand over his ass and down the dark cleft between his cheeks. Her fingertip probed at his anus. Then she shoved it all the way in, up to her palm. She made that wiggle and twist, too, bumping it against his prostate gland on the other side of the wall of membranes. It started quivering uncontrollably.
"I can't hold it!" he yelled. "Let it go, honey!" "Oh, God!"
His belly shivered, and his cock exploded violently, sending a gushing torrent of jizz up into her body. She arched back to drink it up with her thirsty pussy in the damnedest way he'd ever felt. Then something deep inside her seemed to pop open and clamp like a velvet vise around the head of his cock.
"You're in my womb!" she yelled, her eyes popping open. OH MY GOD!"
She came immediately, groaning and tossing her butt and head around violently, thrashing her torso under his. She nearly threw him off her body. She yelled in his ear and raked at his back with her nails.
They both fell limp and stopped moving. They panted harshly against each other. In a moment her pussy made quivering motions deep inside, and it started pulling on the head of his cock, begging for more.
Wally and Janice came back into the room. She carried a thin, knobby cucumber in her hand. It was already slick and shiny around the green skin as if well-used just recently.
"I'll be deified!" Wally exclaimed, stopping to look at Bob and Sue. "It's a scene of bliss and repose already--or do you suppose it's sloth?"
"I don't know, Wally," Janice saw, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Doesn't look like there's been much action yet--except for the way that tit's all red. What do you think?"
"I believe that action is indicated in perversity!" he said, his voice ringing fully in the room. "I believe it's time we taught our neophyte the virtuous delights of the jolly green giant!"
Janice laughed at her husband apprehensively. She fingered her puffy-lipped pussy protectively and looked sideways at the green tube.
Sue watched them over Bob's back with big eyes. Then she giggled and pulled her finger out of his ass with a popping sound. She clamped her thighs tightly around his legs, holding them down, and spread the cheeks of his butt wide with both her hands.
A ripple of fear went up Bob's spine. They were up to something.
"No!" he cried in a trembling voice.
"But, yes, O Initiate!" Wally thundered.
He knelt on the bed behind Bob and placed his big hand flat on the small of his spine to hold him down. Then he gripped the cucumber in his hand and raised it like a stabbing knife. He brought it down, inserting the blunt tip between the finger-clutched cheeks of his quivering ass and pressed the tip against his throbbing anus. He pressed it forward.
The green fruit pushed and nosed apart the tight brown ring. Bob arched his spine and yelled out throatily, trying to kick free.
"Aiiee, God!" he yelled.
But there was no letting up. The cunt-slickened cucumber opened the muscular ring of his asshole wide and began to ripple knobbily up inside, bringing tears to his eyes.
At the same time, Sue started doing her thing with her pussy while she pulled on his ass with her spreading fingers.
Despite himself, Bob's cock shot out another inch, forced from his groin by the burning presence of the big tube in his ass. He yelled and beat his fists on the pillows when Sue's cunt tried to bend his cock again at an ungodly angle.
Sue squirmed and giggled, taking all the thrusting prick stabbing into the mouth of her womb. She let her muscles flutter around the tip of it and suck ferociously, feeling the tip-throbbing result deep in her belly.
"Gnaaah!" Bob cried throatily. "Take it out! Stop! You're killing me!"
"Ho-ho-HO!" Wally thundered, driving the cucumber home, shoving it nearly all the way up Bob's ass, loving the ecstatic result that showed up as a big grin on Sue's face.
"Farther, Wally!" she cried. "Ooo, it feels like you're pushing that thing all the way through him into my belly! Make him fuck me harder, Wally!"
Wally pulled the cucumber partway out, seeing the way the knobs on it caught on the muscular ring of Bob's anus and made it pucker painfully. He pushed it back in again, and his heavy cock began to lift and fill.
"Wally, shame on you!" Janice jeered. "That's making you horny!"
"Indeed it is!" he laughed. "Substitution is indicated!"
"No!" Bob yelled again.
His protest did no good. The cucumber withdrew, giving him a moment of relief. But he still couldn't get up. Janice had straddled his back, and he could feel the wet, hot kiss of her cunt on his flesh as she twisted and rode him, pulling on his ears playfully.
Then the big hands aided Sue's fingers in pushing his ass cheeks wide apart. His anus burned and throbbed. He felt the tip of Wally's prick going against it, and he tried to hunch up higher on Sue's body to get away from the probing prick.
"That's it, lover!" Sue cried. "Fuck me harder and higher! Ram it into my pussy and flood me again, you wonderful fucker!"
The heavy shaft reamed up his ass. He opened his mouth to yell again and felt it filled with Sue's tongue, whipping and thrusting hotly inside his cavern. He felt the slippery-tipped invasion of Wally's cock, the warmth of the thighs against his butt cheeks.
It wasn't as bad as the cucumber. In fact, the way his balls were filling and growing tight, he'd have to say it wasn't bad at all. He groaned "with the wicked desires that made his head swim.
Janice slid up his back, leaving a cool trail of her slippery cum. She had her cunt around the back of his neck, rocking up and down over it as if it were a fat, stubby cock between her thighs.
She pulled her mouth from Bob's. Her eyes went wide and hot, and she gurgled in her throat. Janice understood the plea and moved Bob's head aside slightly. Then she was crouching over Sue's mouth with her dripping pussy, taking all the tongue that Sue could thrust into her tight, squirming pussy.
Bob watched the women fucking and felt his I cock jump as Wally slammed his prick up his ass again.
There was a rippling sensation in his spine. Then his bloated balls jerked and his prick jetted forth like a hose, filling the big cavity of Sue's womb with his hot sperm.
"Arrrgh!" he cried, fucking her furiously.
"Tight, man, tight and driving ... rotating ... sun-burst explosions filling the brain to.. .Aahhhgh!"
Wally's cock bucked and jumped and spit a thick load of cum into Bob's asshole. He felt the hot rush like an enema flooding into his body. Then right in front of his face Janice's anus puckered inward. Her cunt lips fluttered around the stabbing tongue, and they fought with the firmly nibbling lips of Sue's mouth. She groaned and came hard, and her pussy dribbled hot cum out of her hole. Sue licked at it furiously with her tongue, gurgling and twisting and coming herself as she swallowed down Janice's offering.
Bob nearly passed out from the intensity of it all. He rolled onto his back when Wally got off him, and he was muttering.
"Yes, yes, I'll bring her. Next meeting ... I'll be there too ... oh -oh, God such wonderful ... fucking wonderful ..."
He remembered cuddling up in Janice's soft arms, and that was all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bob sat in his office and leaned over his desk. He ran his fingers over his forehead, trying to massage away the pain in his head. His eyes ran across the neatly typed pages, line after line, then zipped back up to the beginning again because he hadn't taken any of the words in.
He pushed away from the desk suddenly and swore with a short oath. He rubbed his bleary eyes and scratched at his itching asshole, remembering the wild night.
He looked at the buzzer that would bring Janice running in. Maybe a quick fuck behind the file cabinet would help him concentrate better. But he remembered the way she'd been acting today--distant, cool, as though last night had never happened to either of them. He sighed heavily. Perhaps she was right-that way there wouldn't be any suspicion in the office. For whatever difference that would make after Friday.
He looked at the report again, reaching out hesitantly to curl the edges of the paper in his fingers.
Crandall was nuts.
He got up, went over to where his ice water was warming in the pitcher. He drank thirstily and looked at Barbara's grimacing picture out of the corner of his eye.
She never had said where she'd been all day yesterday. He nearly fought with her about it this morning. But he decided that wouldn't be smart since she apparently wasn't going to question him about where he'd spent most of that night.
She was going to the party, and that was all that mattered right now.
He went back to his desk, looked at the papers, and tried to put the party out of his mind. He checked over the figures and plans and history of Futures Unlimited again. He recognized the neat handwriting of Crandall's accountant.
The figures were from him, not from Vince Bartollo--the small, dark treasurer of Futures Unlimited. Crandall always did his own investigation of corporations, never accepting their word on anything. Crandall was very thorough. The figures Bob had access to looked good. Very good.
Too good.
He didn't trust them, no matter who prepared them. The whole damned corporation looked too solid to be true--like something out of one of his textbook cases. Vince Bartollo just didn't make the believable appearance of an officer and emissary of such a solidly grounded corporation.
The trouble was, their president was another kind of man altogether. He was warm and smiled a lot and oozed Truth and Beauty and Honesty all through the room and up and down the hallways. You simply had to believe everything he said.
But not so with Bartollo.
Bob looked at his report again, finding the main points of his argument easily. He sat back and judged the words critically, the way Crandall had so obviously done.
Like a bachelor railing hysterically against marriage, Crandall had said.
He read, he thought, he didn't see it. His feelings were intuitive. There was something phony about the whole setup, and he felt it inside, to hell with what the figures said.
He looked up again, his mind deep in thought. Then Barbara's picture came into focus.
Why would he be staring at that?
His mind flashed back. He stared at his wife and remembered how she'd put on the front of being from a rich background, full of culture and education and sophistication.
Maybe she was, but he didn't believe that any more, either, despite the front she put on. Every time he'd tried to talk to her about things of interest to him, she subtly changed the subject. She had a tendency to use words wrong--the big kind that people, including himself, rarely challenged her on.
There were moments--mostly angry ones-when Bob could swear she had played him for a sap. Moments when he knew without doubt that she was a phony--that she'd never had the background she claimed to have. There was nothing he could really put his finger on. Nothing he could come straight out and accuse her of. He just felt it.
The same as he felt that Futures Unlimited was rotten inside in spite of the pretty picture on its balance sheets and informational literature.
There were too many soft underpinnings-bonds, shares of stock in remote, new, obscure companies. They'd been checked out, too. Crandall was very thorough. They seemed secure enough. But again, Bob had the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that there was a common thread running through all of them--that one tug on the thread would send the whole structure unraveling and tumbling down like a house of paper stocks.
Bartollo.
He stuck out like a hairy wart on the face of a beautiful girl. No amount of mascara, face powder, hair spray, beads or perfume could hide his smell.
Just like, once you'd lived with her for five years, nothing could hide Barbara from him for what she wasn't. Even though he couldn't prove it.
He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair wishing to God the day would end. It was torture sitting there for hours trying to think up a new way to put his argument down on paper. It was just as wrenching to try to see good where Crandall wanted him to see it.
If only there was time to check up on Bartollo!
"Are you thinking or sleeping, Mr. Miller?"
His eyes popped open. Janice stood before him in a short green outfit that made her hair soft and her eyes sparkle the way he remembered them.
"Well, I'm glad to see you're finally talking to me again today," he said.
"Just for a minute," she bubbled. "Sorry to seem so cool today, but you know how it is. I don't think Mr. Crandall would have much sympathy on either of us if he caught wind of any kind of story."
Bob agreed vigorously. "But in another few days, I don't think it'll matter much for me anyway."
"Oh? Why not?"
"I can't see his objection to this report. And I can't quite explain myself in the terms he wants. It's all very clear to me. I just don't trust the bastards. I think they're hiding something."
She looked at him and shrugged, her mind obviously not in tune with this portion of his problems.
"A lot of people hide the truth about themselves for one reason or another," she said lamely. "But I'm afraid I can't help you with this one. My specialty is in the other line. Speaking of which, what did Barbara say this morning--will she come?"
He sighed. "Yeah. She wanted to know more about it, but I put her off. She knows it's no office party. I guess I didn't have the guts to tell her it would wind up being a swap session and that she was going to be one of the participants."
"Oh, good!" Janice bubbled again, grinning at him. "I know everything's going to work out. Wally said he talked to Rod already today, and they drew straws. Wally gets first crack at her."
Bob squirmed in his chair, scratching his itchy butt again at the mention of Janice's heavy-cock husband.
"I'm not sure I envy my wife at all," he said.
Janice laughed gaily. "Wally said you were one of the tightest browns he'd had in a long time." He really dug your butt."
"He sure did," Bob agreed. "Incidentally, I hope you leave that goddamn toy of yours at home tonight."
Janice grinned mysteriously. "We won't be needing it."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see-just be sure to bring your wife!" She spun around and left the room. Bob's suddenly-aware cock fluttered threateningly in his pants as he watched her tight butt move sexily under her short skirt. He couldn't help but undress her with his eyes as she left, trying to recapture the scenes of last night.
He turned back to the report and the mounting problem it represented. He couldn't concentrate at all now. All he could think of was the swap party tonight and what the result would be to his, marriage to Barbara. When they got through with her, she would have to forgive what he did and release him from the goddamn prison of mounting frustration she kept him in.
He picked up all the papers and started stacking them into a folder. He looked absently over the figures once again, hoping to see an optimistic future with the merger that would really be unlimited.
But he couldn't.
Bartollo. The name rang through his brain like a damned bell.
He gave one last effort to the problem and sat and searched his memory. Where had he heard that name?
It was useless. He stuffed the papers into his desk, got ready to leave. Barbara's eyes glinted at him from across the room.
A shell, he thought. A glittering, brilliant mask that he would shatter tonight.
Bartollo.
He would shatter that mask before it was too late, too. They were hiding something behind the mascara of stocks.
CHAPTER NINE
Bob straightened the knot in his tie and looked across the bedroom at his wife. She sat primly on the vanity stool running a brush carefully around the edges of her eyes, darkening the outline of them. She put the eyeliner away and patted her hair again, for the hundredth time. A fogging spray of lacquer around her head, and she looked into the mirror again. She turned around and faced him, unsmiling.
"There," she said. "I think I'm ready. Do I suit you?"
"Immaculate," he said. "As always." "Why do you say it that way?" "I thought we covered that pretty well the other night."
She stood up. Her dress was heavy and cut straight. To look at her, he'd have no idea what her figure was like underneath it. He scarcely had an idea of that, anyway.
"I resent that, Bob," she said belligerently. "I go to a lot of work to fix myself up and make myself look attractive. And all you ever do is tell me that you want me to look like a trollop. A common one, at that."
He watched her go across the room for her purse with brusque movements. The word common stuck in his mind. It reminded him of stocks.
"Does the name Bartollo mean anything to you?"
She yanked her purse open, her lips drawn tight with annoyance. She began changing items in it with another purse and didn't look up. "No. Why should it?" "Stop doing that and listen!" he snapped. "Listen to what?" she asked snapping it shut loudly. At least she was paying attention to him now.
"Bartollo. It's very important." She scowled, wrinkling her immaculate forehead. "Not a thing. Why should it?"
"I don't know." He turned back to the mirror and fiddled with his tie again. "I heard it some place. Vince Bartollo. I thought maybe I'd heard it from you."
"Who is he? Why is he of any importance?" "Oh ... it has to do with the merger report," he said. "Forget it. I don't want to think about business any more."
"Bob ... what is this party about?" "Just a party," he shrugged, trying to sound casual. He was looking at her in the mirror and could see her fingers clutching nervously around the purse.
"Well, I wish you'd tell me. I don't know why I ever agreed to go to it. I don't know how they're dressing; I don't know the purpose; I don't know who's going to be there ... I don't think it's very thoughtful of you to treat me this way."
He turned to face her again. "Look, Barbara, it's just a goddamn party! Why do you have to make a State function out of everything with engraved invitations and the whole bit!"
"I want to know who's going to be there, that's all! Do I know any of them?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't know who you know. We've been moving in different circles for five years. How the hell should I know whether you know any of them!"
"If you're going to act this way about it, I won't go, darling."
"Yes you will, darling."
Their eyes locked. It reminded him of the other night. Once again, she looked away first, and he suddenly knew why. She was afraid he'd drop her.
"All right," she said. "If you insist."
"I insist." He paused a moment, tasting the sweet savor of victory again. She liked playing her game too well. She liked the security he afforded her. the clothes she could buy, the house they lived in. She wouldn't risk that by refusing to go with him. But it was so inconsistent with the way she treated him sexually. She didn't make sense. Neither one of them made sense, punishing each other the way they did.
"God, I hope this solves something," he muttered to himself.
"What?"
"I said it's just a bunch of people-a new crowd. Maybe there'll be somebody there we both like for once."
"I hadn't noticed that was any kind of problem," she said nastily. "I know you don't like my friends, but some of yours are all right."
"Yeah," he said, moving away from the mirror. It was another old wound he didn't want to pick open just then. He went toward her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking straight at her.
"Barbara," he said. "Let's not fight tonight. I want to have fun. I've got enough pressures at work, and I don't need them at home, too, all right?"
She smiled at him. She thought it was a smile. It was the same cold grimace on her picture that he looked at every day.
"All right, darling," she said, her eyes glinting foxily. "I won't fight if you can tell me the name of just one person who's going to be there."
He drew back. "Huh? What the hell's this game!"
She twisted her shoulders from his grasp. "It's no game. I told you, I just want to know. Besides, I'm curious."
"About what?"
"To see whether you know any of them yourself."
He looked at her sideways, trying to puzzle her out. Christ, did she have wind of it already? Maybe she'd been out following him last night! "Well?"
He thought fast. If she did follow him, then she'd know where he was, who he was with. And she would know his secretary's name--Janice Walters.
"Do you mean that if I tell you the name of one couple who's going to be there, you won't bug me all night?"
"Yes. Isn't that a fair deal?"
He shook his head, at a loss. "I guess so."
"Well?"
"Sue and Rod will be there. I don't think you know them." It was the only other couple he could possibly know. She smiled maliciously. "I don't think you know them, either, darling."
"Oh, horseshit!" he blurted. "Why not! Rod and Sue! What the hell else do you want!"
"Their last names. I know a Rod and Sue. Wouldn't it be exciting if it was the same couple?"
He searched his memory frantically. "Banner!" he said. "Rod and Sue Banner! There, damn it, do you know them? Of all the stupid, pointless, goddamn stinking...."
He looked at her. She was a decided shade of green. Her mouth was open, breaking the smooth lines of her artificial face.
"No!" she said quickly. "No, of course not! How would you expect me to know your friends!"
"You promised, darling," he said cattily. "No more fighting, remember?" He looked at her again.
"What's the matter, do you want a drink or something?"
She turned quickly and headed for the door. Her fingers shook as she reached for the handle. She drew her arm back, stood unsurely.
"Darling, really, I ... I don't feel well. Couldn't you give our regrets? Or you go on ahead without me."
He walked toward her, trying to look at her face, but she kept turning away with her head down.
"No," he said. "No, I won't call. We're going to the party. You agreed to go, and now I'm going to make you hold to it."
"Please, Bob!"
He shook his head silently. Something was wrong. Did she know Sue or her husband? Did she suddenly know what kind of party it was? Had she been going to them herself-with another man for her husband, perhaps? Was that why she was so cold-she was giving her pussy to somebody else?
His mind raced with thoughts. What a stupid dolt! It had never entered his mind to suspect her of cheating on him!
"Who are the Banners?" he asked her with a steely voice.
She whipped around, and he was stunned at her composure. Another mask.
"I told you, darling, I don't know them." She searched his face quickly, seeing the questions piling up. "I feel better now--shall we go?"
Again, his balloon popped. He felt terribly frustrated. He yanked open the bedroom door.
"Yes!" he growled.
CHAPTER TEN
"Like, there he appears with Lady Barbara!"
"Well, hi, Wally," Bob said, putting on a surprised face. "Fancy meeting you here! Barbara, this is Wally Walters, my secretary's husband. You remember Janice, don't you?"
Barbara stiffened slightly, then grimaced hello. She extended her hand, palm down. Wally surprised her. He not only took it, he wrapped it up in his big palms and patted and kissed the back of her hand with much ceremony.
"Perilous digits!" he exclaimed, inspecting her fingers closely. "An evening with you, my lady, would be more exotic than a journey into the depths of the Casbah!"
Barbara looked at Bob, rolling her eyeballs upwards on the sly. "Thank you, Mr. Walters," she said dryly. "My husband didn't tell me that this was an office party."
"Oh, but it's not," he said, trying to take her arms and entwine it in his own and lead her off into the dimly lit room. "Fickle fate has worked once again!"
"Uh, what exactly do you mean by that, Mr. Walters?" she asked, drawing back in a subtle but positive way.
"Simply that it is pure coincidence to find us both at the same party at the same hour. Come, and I'll introduce you around."
He grinned at her. His big teeth filled the room and made her shy back. Bob watched them together and knew that Wally had just lost the competition to Rod.
"I told Barbara that the Banners would be here, Wally, have they come in yet?" Bob asked, getting his wife off her squirming hook. Not that he wanted her off--it was only to keep peace a little while longer. He saw her become pale and look quickly about the room as if wanting a place to hide. There couldn't be any question about it. She knew them and didn't want to admit it.
Wally sighed dramatically and looked crestfallen. "Alas," he said. "Only the big chief herself is here--big Sue." He laughed. "The Rod has been detained. She's over talking with Jan. Shall we make the scene?"
Bob studied his wife's face. The lines of tension drained away. "Sure," he said.
They walked across the room. There were few lights on. The couples gathered in knots, talking. It was like any normal cocktail party but for one omission. There were no cocktails. Apparently Barbara hadn't noticed that yet, for her eyes were focused straight ahead as if trying to search out Sue Banner to see what she looked like. She was politely ignoring Wally's line of patter.
Bob saw the two girls talking. They were standing beside the entry way to the kitchen. They quit and looked up when Wally sang out to them in his resonant voice.
"Girls," he said. "It's time to live! The charming Lady Barbara and her distinguished husband the boss-man have appeared!"
"Why Mr. Miller, how nice!" Janice bubbled innocently, throwing it on thick. "Hi, Mrs. Miller, remember me? I'm your husband's secretary."
She grinned brightly and stuck out her hand. Barbara took it and grimaced tightly again, obviously not liking this fraternization with the working class. She turned her attention to Sue, studying her with unusual attention, Bob thought.
She's afraid of Rod, he concluded. Janice interrupted his thoughts with her introduction.
"How do you do, Mrs. Banner," Barbara was saying, taking Sue's hand. Her eyes stared intently.
"Hi!" Sue chirped. "Rod said he'd be late tonight. He couldn't help it."
"That's a pity," Barbara intoned. Another wave of relief seemed to pass over her face. "I do hope I get to meet him before we have to leave."
"Oh, I don't think he'll be too late. Gee, I sure hope this doesn't mess anything up."
Bob cringed. Christ!
"What do you mean?" Barbara quizzed, her voice nearly snapping the question.
"Uh, like, uh, our pleasures of the evening, Lady Barbara," Wally began, trying to recover, "depend most intimately upon the relational dichotomy of the participants, whereby the regretted omission of the yang from the yin is to be lamentably decried, wherein there appears to be a hole of negativity in the center of-" "Don't they serve drinks here, darling," Barbara said, turning from Wally coldly. "I would like a drink, I believe. I feel a terrible headache coming on, and I fear we may have to leave early unless I get a damned drink!"
Bob looked at her. He wanted to laugh out loud in her face, but he didn't dare--not yet. He watched her serenity flying out the window with as much compassion as a slug.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Miller," Janice said quickly. "The Johnsons don't have alcohol in their house. They aren't teetotalers, you understand, they just don't like what alcohol does to the body. We have some very good punch that's just about ready, however."
"Wonderful," Barbara said hollowly. She rubbed her head. "Bob, I really think--" "Oh, lemme show you around, Bar--Mrs. Miller," Sue piped up very suddenly, as if she'd been goosed.
"Very well," Barbara said.
Sue took her arm and led her away.
"Like, I flunked the big F, man," Wally said, exhaling heavily.
"Don't worry about it," Bob reassured him.
"What's the lineup tonight--I mean, what happens? When does everybody start screwing?"
"Wally, see if you can get Alice and Bill to hurry up with that damned punch. Tell them to spike hers a little heavy and then get it to her before she starts wanting to leave again."
"The ears have perceived," Wally breathed, moving away quickly.
"What's all the excitement over the punch?" Bob asked Janice.
"It's spiked with a synthetic drug that Bill got a hold of somewhere. It makes you sexy as anything. Livens up the party just beautifully."
"An aphrodisiac?"
"Yeah, that's what it's called. I was thinking the sooner we get that down her, the better. She'll be more receptive. Poor Wally. He tries so hard."
"All right, what happens after the punch? Do you just start in?"
"No. Usually, we play games of one kind or another. Sometimes it's spin the bottle, and the one who's it gets to pick anybody in the circle and have him-or her-do whatever he wants them to. Sometimes we draw partners-I don't know. It's always different."
"Yeah, but what about tonight?" Bob persisted.
"I heard there was going to be a movie tonight, with sound and everything. Wait a minute." She reached out and stopped a slim brunette who was headed into the kitchen. "Isn't there a movie tonight, Peggy?"
Peggy came over and her eyes ran up and down Bob's frame hotly. She smiled, and her eyes were soft and warm. She had on a micro mini that came nearly to her ass.
"Hi," she said breathily. "You must be Barbara's husband, right?"
"Yes," Bob said. "I take it you've met her."
Peggy couldn't stop herself from making a peculiar face. "I guess I did," she said. "Pretty cold treatment. I don't think she likes the way I'm dressed or something. I don't mean to sound disrespectful, Bob, but I hope the party doesn't fizzle. I was really looking forward to a lot of fucking. Does she turn on later or something?"
Janice laughed. "We hope so! That's why I was asking you what was planned besides the punch."
"Yeah, I heard from Alice that it was a movie. She's seen it. Says it's real beautiful and hot. Gee, Bob, I never would have thought your wife was a swapper. You, I can see-but not her."
"That's the agenda," Janice said. "To make her into one. A new recruit. Can you help out?"
"Oh!" Peggy said, beginning to understand. "Well ... sure, I'll do what I can, Janice. Who's--uh--who's going to break her in?"
"Rod, if he'll get here."
"Oh, my! You don't believe in messing around, do you?"
"Like, it's the slim and willowy Peg!" Wally broke in, coming up.
"Hi, Wally-bear!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
She kissed him fully on his mouth, accepting with a moan the way he ran his hand over her thrusting breast. Her dress pulled up when she lifted her arms, and Bob could see her panties underneath the micro mini. They were light green.
"Go ahead," Janice said, winking at the way he was eyeing up the slick panties that were drawn tightly over her tiny ass. "She won't mind."
Bob felt giddy. One didn't normally go around feeling the buttocks of strange girls. But he did. He cupped her asscheek in his palm and felt the hot touch of the green nylon. Her buttock tightened, and she looked around, grinning, still hugging Wally.
"Hey, Bob, you've got a nice touch! Save a little for me later on, will you? I always like to try out the new ones and make them feel very welcome."
"Sure," Bob grinned, digging his finger into the soft groove of her ass. "It's a date."
"Mmm, where's that punch!" she said heatedly. "I'll bet they're in there drinking it all up themselves."
"Here's the special, Wally," a man said coming up to them. "Where does it go? Oh, hi, I'm Bill Anders. You must be Bob Miller. I hear your wife's a little reluctant about these things."
"Yeah," Bob said, shaking hands. He looked at the full cup of punch. It had a champagne color to it, even to the bubbles.
"Well, this will fix her up, I'll guarantee it," he said, grinning broadly.
"Where's mine, Bill?" Peggy breathed, bending herself around his body suggestively.
He cupped her rear and kissed her. "Sweetie, you don't need any."
"Oh, you!" she pouted, hitting him playfully.
They walked away, their arms around each other. Bob saw them go up to a blonde in the kitchen, presumably Bill's wife.
"They've made the introductory scene," Wally announced, looking behind Bob.
He turned. Barbara and Sue came up. She looked a little less belligerent, and he was glad for that. He handed her the glass of punch.
"Here's some champagne somebody found for you," Bob said.
She looked at the proffered glass. "Really? How wonderful. Thank you, darling."
"My pleasure," he said. "Meet anybody interesting?"
She held the glass to her mouth and wrinkled her nose. "This isn't champagne," she said.
He laughed. "I know it. It's good though, try some."
She had a dubious look on her face. Then Bill and Alice and Peggy came out of the kitchen with trays of glasses and began passing them around. Bob took his.
"Let's make a toast," Janice said. "To a fun night!"
"Hear, hear!" Wally agreed.
They all drank. Barbara watched them, her husband's expression particularly. He sighed and smacked his lips.
"Hey, that is good," he said, meaning it. "Boy, how much of this are we allowed?"
Sue giggled. "As required!" she chirped.
Barbara looked at her and frowned. Then to everyone's relief she drank from her glass, paused, looked at it, then drank some more.
"Very stimulating," she said, not understanding why Wally suddenly choked and turned away in a fit of coughing.
"Oh, look!" Sue cried suddenly, pointing her finger. "There's Rod! Rod, honey, over here!"
Bob spun around and caught sight of a broad-shouldered, burly-looking man. He had dark hair that grew close to his forehead and ears and very prominent brow arches. He walked into the room in a lumbering way that gave him the total appearance of an ape in clothing.
He saw Barbara stiffen reflexively and turn slowly. Then she was trying to hide behind Wally's bulk, gave up, and stood tight and trembling with her head down as if trying to hide her face.
"Bob," Rod Banner said, acknowledging his presence. "Sorry I'm late. He looked at Barbara, trying to see under her face, wondering why she didn't look up to greet him.
She finally did. She turned slowly, raised her chin high, and opened her eyes. The color seemed to drain from her face. She tried to smile, but not even the grimace would come. Her lips were trembling.
"I'd like you to meet Barbara," Bob said, thoroughly puzzled. There was no doubt that they knew each other, and the fact petrified his wife.
Rod stood and stared, and then a slow grin came over his face.
"Mrs. Miller," he said, his voice low and charged with an innate sexual timbre.
"Please," she said, trying to keep her voice under control. "Please call me Barbara."
"Whatever you say--Barbara," Rod said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
His eyes burned into hers. There was a strange smile on his face. Barbara clutched at Bob's arm.
"Bob, really ... I do feel ill ... that--punch. It didn't-" "Places, everybody!" a man said over the gentle murmur of voices in the room. "It's time for the movie."
He was a tall, yellow-haired man with a big, strong jaw and long fingers which he had a tendency to flip about effeminately. When he had their attention, he looked over toward their group and smiled.
"I'd especially like to welcome Bob and Barbara to our party tonight. I'm sure we'll all do what we can to make their evening as enjoyable as possible so that they will want to return again and again to our friendly group." He wrung his hands, lifting his big jaw high like a deacon at church announcing the calendar of events for the coming week. "Now, if you will all pair off and be seated, we can begin the evening with a wonderful movie my dear wife Eva found in a quaint little shop down by the riverfront."
While the man was talking, Bob leaned toward Janice. "Who is he?" he whispered.
"Ralph Johnson. He's your host. Sorry I didn't get you around. He knows the scoop, which is why he's talking that way. Usually, it's let's fuck, gang!" she whispered back.
"You all know the rules," Ralph continued.
"Husbands and wives may not sit together. I never saw any reason why a couple would want to go out to a party to be together when they can just as well stay home and do that. So ... let's mix it up and swap partners!"
Bob groaned to himself and glanced at Barbara. If she had any idea of the meaning of what was just said, she didn't show it. In fact, she appeared not to have heard anything. She seemed conscious only of the presence of Rod Banner.
Couples began milling about the room, finding places to sit or lie down together. Many of them were already feeling each other up, squeezing boobs and asses and running dainty fingers over the bulging fronts of pants. There was much kissing and acting awfully friendly for mere acquaintances. Barbara finally noticed this and raised her eyebrows when Peggy came up and hugged Wally, running her slim hand over his broad chest. "I pick you, Wally-bear," she said hotly.
He looked at Janice, winked, and fondled Peggy's small butt. They went off together to lie down on neatly arranged pillows.
"What's going on?" Barbara asked. "Did you see that? Look at that couple over there! Why, he's got his hand under--" She looked and swallowed. Bob watched her reactions. Her fingers trembled and patted her hair nervously. She tore her eyes away from the necking, petting couples finally and squinted her eyes at him.
"You bastard!" she hissed softly.
Rod pulled her around firmly and grinned down with a no-bullshit expression on his face.
"Lay off Bob, Wil--uh, will you, Barbara," he said, catching himself. "Let's you and me go over to that dark corner, and I'll explain everything to you."
She struggled a moment, looking back at Bob, who was doing nothing but grinning at her oddly.
"Come on, Barbara," Rod said firmly.
Sue came up to Bob and leaned her head on his shoulder in a familiar way. Her full tits pressed softly into his arm. She let one hand dangle closely to the front of his pants.
"Hi," she giggled to him. "Think you wanna do me again since Rod's got your wife this time?"
"Sure, Sue," Bob said, looking at Barbara. Then he deliberately put his hand on one of Sue's thrusting, prominent breasts and squeezed it. He grinned when he saw Barbara's eyes narrow into deadly slits. But for the moment, she was speechless.
"What do you say, Jan?" Bill Anders asked, cupping his crotch into Janice's pouting buttocks. "Any results yet?" He nodded toward Barbara.
"Not yet, Bill," Janice said.
"Listen, Barbara, don't fight it," he said to her in a matter-of-fact voice. "I'm afraid I played a dirty trick on you by loading your drink with an extra amount. It should hit you in about five or ten minutes. I'd advise that you be here when it does, instead of riding home in a taxi. They wouldn't know how to handle you out on the street. They'd tear you to shreds like a pack of wolves."
"What are you talking about!" Barbara gasped, clutching her throat with her hand. "What have you done!"
Bill swallowed and glanced around the circle for help. "I ... I thought ..." he stammered.
"Nobody's told her yet, Bill, but that's all right." He looked at Barbara. "You're at a genuine swap party, darling," he said bluntly. "As Bill says, you may as well enjoy it. It can't hurt, and it may do you some good. Rod gets the honors first. Since you two seem to know each other, anyway, it shouldn't be all that much a shock to you."
"No!" she cried, gasping. All airs of superiority left her face. "I don't know this ape! I've never seen him in my life! I won't do it! Why are you doing this to me--why?"
"To try to straighten things out, Barb. I can't help what's in my past. And you have no right to hold it over me the way you've done for the past five years. When tonight is over, you won't be able to do that any more. You'll be just as guilty as I. Then maybe we can get down to business and make a decent marriage."
"What are you talking about, damn it? What past? You've gone crazy-all of you!"
Her face was twisted, hysterical. Bob faltered. He'd never seen her looking this way. What if it were all a monstrous mistake?
He had no time to say anything. Rod pulled on Barbara's arm commandingly, lifting her off her feet.
"Come on, baby, the movie's starting," he growled. "I want to see what you remember about fucking."
Bob watched the burly man drag her off. She was still protesting, hitting at him. He jerked her arm again, spoke sharply to her, and then glanced back at Bob. She looked, too. There was absolute terror and indecision on her face for a horrible moment. Then she followed him meekly to the corner.
"I hope this is the right thing to do," Bob said, suddenly feeling very unsure of himself. He was still trying to get used to the idea that Rod-man, Sue's husband, a burly ape of a beast, was going to fuck his wife--stick his hairy cock into her body and fill her belly with his boiling hot seed.
"It is, Bob," Janice said softly, touching his arm. She smiled quickly and went off with Bill.
In a moment the images were flickering on a screen. He saw Barbara pleading animatedly with Rod. He wished he could hear what they were saying. He lay on soft pillows and let Sue run her nibbling, soft lips over his body. He stared up at the flickering screen and saw a man's cock fill it.
The cock was red and pounding with heat. The camera backed away to show the slick, soft lips of a woman's mouth. The lips parted and the mouth was hot. It slipped gently down over the prick of the man and began sucking just as Sue's fingers pulled his prick from his pants.
His own dick was covered with silky warmth, and a tongue beat the tip of his prick into white heat. He closed his eyes and settled back and groaned, arching his hips into Sue's eager mouth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Get your hands off me, you ugly ape!" Barbara swore, trying to jerk free of Rod Banner's grasp.
He pushed her down into the corner into some pillows. Her skirt flew up to her panties. She jerked it down and glared threateningly at him, staring at the way his nostrils flared, broad and open and hideous. His thick lip curled, and he reached down to snatch her skirt back up. He held it there, looking into her panty-covered crotch and the nylons that bit into the soft flesh of her thighs. He saw the birthmark on the inside of her thigh and fingered it, chuckling thickly.
"So," he said, settling down beside her. "It's you after all! I thought it was. I hardly recognized you in those fancy clothes-the way you hide your body and fix your hair. But I'll never forget that mark on your thigh, Wilma."
"I'm not Wilma!" she cried desperately. "You've got the wrong woman. Now let go of my thigh, damn you!"
He laughed again. "Huh-unh, Wilma," he said. "Not unless you get nice to me--the way you used to be."
She slapped his face. He grunted with surprise and gripped her wrist painfully.
"Look, bitch," he growled. "I don't know what your goddamn game is with that stud over there who's dicking my wife, but don't try to play it on me, you hear? Not on your old fucking partner, Rod Banner!"
"Let go--you're hurting me!"
"Good. Then that makes us nearly even for the time you bit my cock, remember? Want to see it, Wilma? Would it make you feel good to see what your nasty fucking temper did to my prick? I've still got the scars, you bratty bitch!"
"Don't...." she cried. "Don't you dare! You've got the wrong woman, I tell you; I'm Barbara Miller!"
He yanked his zipper down. The sound ripped through her mind. Then his cock was flaring up from his thighs. A cock flared into brilliant, pulsing color on the screen. She looked around the room and saw her husband's cock flaring broadly into Sue's mouth. Her head swam, full of cocks, throbbing, spurting, dripping whitely from the tip. Heavy balls, hairy balls, red-inflamed, sodden cunts. Sucking sounds, sloppy, fucking, groaning, plunging sounds of sex.
"No!" she cried again, burying her face in her hands. "Oh, God, let it be past!"
"Look at my prick, Wilma Higby, you hot-fucking, whoring bitch!"
He pressed her head down into his lap and slapped her hands away from her face, forcing her to look. His prick was half an inch from her nose. She had to smell it. She had to remember.
Barbara growled inside her body. A mewling sound escaped her lips. The hand pressed firmly on the back of her head, forcing the terrible, pearly-tipped prick between her lips. She tasted the oil oozing out the eye and made another sound, struggling to get free of Rod Banner's grasp.
"Suck it, Wilma!" he growled. "Suck it like you used to suck, you unquenchable bitch! Remember the day you sucked us all-ten of us in an hour?-and suck me like that again!"
Her mind whirled. She felt so funny inside. She was aware of struggling-of wanting to gorge this terrible prick into her throat and make it squirt and come and fill her belly full. And of remembering who she was-Barbara Miller, not Wilma. Barbara!
She bit down hard on the rigid tube of flesh and tasted blood.
"Ahhhgh! You bitch!" Rod yelled. He swung his fist into the side of her head and made her ears ring.
He yanked his cock from her mouth and looked at it in the flickering light. The bleeding had already stopped--just a surface nick. But his anger was full.
"You've had it, Wilma," he said, his voice gruff and hard as steel. "You're goddamn game is over." He started to get up, and she clutched at him, suddenly full of fear.
"Where are you going?" she asked, looking up. "I'm going to blow your game to hell, baby. I know what you've been doing to that miserable bastard over there. What do you think he'd say if he knew who you were? What do you think he'd do? Wilma Higby--the hustlingest, fuckingest, suckingest little piece on the street. Anything for money, remember, Wilma? Two bits to jack us off, fifty cents a suck, a buck a fuck, and anything twice for five. Remember the price schedule, baby? By God, I do! Tell me, cheap whore, what do you charge your husband for a goddamn look?"
"Pearly, no!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his leg to stop him. "Don't tell him, please!"
He stopped and looked down. Then he grinned. "Well I'll be damned!" he said. "You decided to remember after all-even my goddamn nickname-the one you gave me! Why the hell shouldn't I tell him? No man likes to sit back and watch another man get taken in by a cheap-assed slut like you! You and your fancy-fucking clothes, your superior airs. You make me sick, Wilma Barbara Higby Miller!"
"Pearly! Please!" she pleaded, tears stinging into her eyes. "I'll do ... I'll do anything you want me to! Just like old times! In my ass ... anywhere! Just don't tell him! I can't bear to think what he would do!"
Rod sat back down, still grinning. He reached over and squeezed her tit painfully, watching her flinch.
"Old Pearly Rod Banger," he mused, laughing. "You called me that because of the leak in my cock, remember, Wilma--the little shiny pearl of jizz you used to lick off with the tip of your tongue like honey from a clover bud?"
"Yes," she said, running her hand over his prick suddenly. "I remember it, Pearly. I'll do it again--like you said. Like old times. Oh, God, I feel so funny inside! Hot!"
He laughed. "It's the drug they spike the punch with, baby. Or maybe it's me, huh? The old memories beginning to feel good again?"
"I don't ... yes, damn you, yes! Oh, God, I've been going crazy married to him, trying to hold myself back!" She nuzzled her head into his lap, stripping his pants savagely from his butt and pulling them down his thighs. "You don't know what it's been like, trying to please him by being chaste and pure the way he wanted me to be and yet needing to be fucked hard!"
Rod groaned, feeling her lips suck and kiss and nibble at the bottom of his balls. He lay back and arched his hips. She gripped his cock and jacked it off, running her hand up and down it hard, stripping the clothes from her body with the other hand.
"That wasn't what I heard," Rod grunted, arching his cock, helping her strip. "I heard he wanted you bad, and you wouldn't give."
"I couldn't, Rod!" she cried. "Not after the first! He'd want to know too much! He'd ask questions, he'd find out, and it would be all over when he knew my past! I thought he wanted me to be like his mother-all prim and proper and fitting to be the wife of a prominent lawyer. After I started playing the role, I couldn't stop! Our marriage would be ruined! The money gone!"
He lifted her hips with his strong arms and swung her crotch over his face. He looked up into the dark-curled patch he remembered from so long ago, and his pulse pounded hotly.
"But you're ruining the marriage the way you're working it now, Wilma--holding out on him. He's beginning to look around. You've got to give or you're dead no matter what you do."
"I know it!" she sobbed, gripping his cock and making it stand straight up toward her lips. "I know it! What can I do?"
"Eat my cock!" he cried, his voice strangled, his mind fogging mushily by his own problems.
Barbara squealed low in her throat and plunged the cock into her mouth. She went crazy over the pearl of jizz at the tip. She felt her body shudder all over. How close she'd come the other night to sucking Bob off! Too close, too close! Rod's tongue licked up the walls of her cunt and stabbed hotly inside--far, deep, the way only his tongue could go. She'd never had a tongue like his--not in any of the men she dated and prostituted herself to for money.
She fondled Rod's balls. She felt his finger running up her asshole--so tight after lying dormant for so long. She groaned and squeezed the tip of his prick with the muscles in her throat, tangling her tongue in the hairy root of his cock. Images flashed through her squirming mind--images of the party, of seeing Bob for the first time.
He was so young, boyish-looking, inexperienced. He had such potential. He could get her out of her disgusting whorish ways by providing her with money and taking care of her. She could stop fucking forever, because he didn't expect it.
That was what she thought. She'd fucked him wildly the first night to set her trap. She'd caught him. Then any further thoughts of sex repulsed her. She'd had enough for any two lifetimes.
It lasted a year. Then she wanted it again. But she couldn't. Her role was too fixed. She'd had to hide her desires.
There was a woman. Emily. A man was too dangerous, because Bob would know. But Emily ... And then they'd moved.
"Oh, God!" she cried, feeling her belly spasm.
The orgasm jolted through her like an electric shock. Rod's tongue licked and stabbed into her squirming cunt. She'd forgotten how good it was to let herself go and come and come. Bob tried, bless him. It wasn't his fault. Oh, God, what to do now!
"Mmmgh!" she groaned, squirming her hips over Rod's sucking face. Then she felt the tip of his prick bucking in her throat.
Come, come! she cried to herself. Fill my belly full' Then he was grunting and arching his butt off the floor, stuffing his prick into her throat, squirting his cum up the heavy tube of his hairy cock and making his jizz splash and flood down her pipe into the depths of her belly.
She sucked and pulled on his prick, wringing it dry with her tongue. The old motions were there. The techniques never left. She ran her tongue tightly around his root and milked it dry.
He yelled into her open, wet, gushing cunt, a muffled sound that was full of primitive lust. He hadn't changed, either. Now he would flop her onto her belly and fuck her ass, reaming it out with his broad-tipped cock. That was the way he used to like to do it.
Rod rolled her body off his and lay back and gasped. "Good," he said weakly. "So good, Wilma. There never was a cocksucker like you--not even Sue!"
"Sue's hot," Barbara said. "She can twist and fuck a man's prick off his belly, I know her kind. I've seen all kinds, Rod, you don't know."
He lifted his head. "Yeah," he said, looking over to where his wife writhed and twisted her hips under Bob's plunging prick. "Yeah, and she's doing him again."
"Do me again, Rod," Barbara pleaded, stuffing her fingers into her hole to stop the terrible feeling of emptiness. "Like old times!"
"Without the fiver, Wilma," he said, turning her over, spreading the cheeks of her ass.
"Make it good, Rod," she said. "I won't get it again for another five years."
"Yes you will," he said. "Yes you can! This is your chance! The party has broken your inhibitions. Let it happen just the way Bob planned, and he'll never know the difference. Use your head, you little nut!"
"Yes!" she cried happily. "Oh, God, Rod, I'd rather use my ass right now! Please!"
"Roll over, you pert-assed bitch," he growled thickly.
Barbara propped her knees on the pillow and lifted her ass high in the air for him. She felt his hands at her buttocks and groaned with need. Then the tip of his boring cock filled her anus and was pushing through her rectum.
She raised her head and bleated with joy. "Fuck me, Rod!" she cried. "Pearly Rod Banner the Big-Balled Banger! I remember! Oh, Christ, I remember!"
Rod shoved his cock into her asshole and pumped away. He moaned and flattened his thighs against the soft flesh of her ass cheeks. They weren't quite as firm as they used to be, but her ass was even better. Tighter! Hotter!
"Shake it, Wilma!" he cried. "Shake the jizz right out!"
Barbara's butt jiggled and shook, bending his cock and making the tip dig into the soft canal of her rectum.
She felt hands under her thighs, spreading her pussy lips apart. She looked down and saw another man, easing under her jiggling body. His cock stretched up long and thin toward her cunt.
"Oh, yes!" she cried hotly, remembering that position, too.
She made room for him, spreading her thighs widely. Then she lowered her pussy down, all the while shaking her ass around Rod's plunging cock. The thin penis slipped into her cunt, going deep and far.
"Ahhhgh!" she bellowed.
The men fucked her hard, both in rhythm, plunging and stuffing her long-quiet body full of watering pricks.
"Barbara, is that you? What a pleasant surprise, honey!"
Barbara looked up. The slim brunette, Peggy, was squatting in front of her face. Her pussy was spread wide open. Jizz dribbled out of her hole.
Barbara went mad inside her head. She cried a thin sound and dove at the cunt with her mouth, filling the hole with her licking tongue.
Peggy leaned back and cried out harshly. The attack was savage. Barbara couldn't help herself. She tasted Wally's cum inside the tight pussy and licked and swallowed and ate ravenously at Peggy's cunt, listening to the woman cry and yell enough to wake the dead.
Barbara's mind seemed to melt like a puddle of heated steel that seared into the column of her spine like the hot, white cum that burned into her cunt and her ass.
Bob heard the yelling. He stopped plunging his prick into Alice's hole and looked across the room. He paused and looked for a long time. He saw the man fucking his wife from underneath, Rod in her asshole at the same time. He saw the source of the screaming. He saw Peggy leaning back, shoving her pussy into the licking, twisted, hungry face of his cold, cold wife.
His prick went limp, and he cried. Abruptly, he got to his feet and left the room, seeking the solitude of the kitchen. Janice wandered in later in the evening, the sounds of wild applause and encouragement to greater indecencies filtering through the swinging door opened by her passage.
She approached the kitchen table where he sat, his arms lying slack before him, his eyes staring straight ahead, unseeing, uncomprehending. "What's the matter, Bob? Don't you want to join the others? Her last remark was punctuated by cheers and fervid sighs and gasps as Barbara, mindless in her reborn lust, brought three men to simultaneous climax, one in her mouth, one in her ass, and one in her greedy, oily pussy.
Bob didn't answer, gave no indication of having heard Janice's questions, nor did he acknowledge her presence. Standing silently, she studied him thoughtfully for a moment and then, still silent, turned and left the room.
Some time later, after all the cocks were drained and all the pussies stretched and used to the point of pain--and all lusts satisfied--Barbara wordlessly collected her husband and they left silently, through the back door going around to the front and their car, avoiding any possibility of long, drawn-out farewells.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They drove home in a strained silence. Bob tried to collect his thoughts, and they wouldn't come. All he could think of was the first shocking image he'd seen of his wife, fucking like a rutting sow with her ass flaring out behind her and her cunt stuffed full and her mouth eating voraciously at the dripping cunt, like a camel at a Saharan waterhole.
He looked across the seat at her and saw the way her hair was neatly back in place. Her face was stony and cold-not twisted with lust and passion the way it was before. He took his eyes from her and steered the car into the garage.
They went up the steps to their bedroom, shutting off the lights on the way like any normal night. He watched the tilting sway of her ass under the straight-lined skirt that tried to hide it from him still.
They went into the bedroom. He closed the door and watched her move to the closet. She reached behind her and pulled the tab of her zipper down. It was a soft, sliding sound, but it ripped through his mind like the screeching whine of twisting metal.
"You bitch!" he shouted suddenly.
He strode across the room and grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. Her legs flew up and revealed her pantied crotch. The nylon was stained dark from where her pussy had been leaking out the cum from all the pricks that had discharged into her body. He stared at the spot and grew dizzy with rage. She didn't pull the skirt back in place.
She looked at him a moment and then let her head fall back. She laughed softly.
"You should see your face, darling," she said. "You don't know whether you want to kill me or rape me."
"You dirty bitch," he said again. It was a hollow sound, dead, as if he didn't really care about anything any more.
"What's the matter, Bob? Wasn't this what you wanted after all? You got what you wanted, didn't you?" Her eyes were intent boring into his as if seeking the answer there.
"Yes," he said. "And so did you. That's the thing that hurts."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't play coy. You've done that before. No woman could learn as fast and as well as you did tonight without having lots of practice somewhere, sometime before." His eyes went hollow. "My God ... the years!"
Barbara started to jerk her skirt back into place. She started to argue with him as she had so many times in the past--a force of habit.
Instead, she let her legs fall wider apart. She pushed the dress from her shoulders and removed her slip. She lay back on the bed in her bra and panties and gazed at him, her hair suddenly spilling in soft dark waves on the spread.
"Fuck me, Bob," she said gently. "Come on, honey--come and fuck me. I want it now. I'll always want it from you."
He looked at her, casting a sideways, suspicious glance. He didn't trust her. She was playing another game with him--one that might hurt worse.
"Go to hell," he said. "We're though. I won't take any more from you."
She raised up and frowned her puzzlement. "Bob, what's the matter, darling? I said I wanted you! Please, honey, come take me. Don't you understand I want you to?"
"I can't," he said. "Not after tonight."
"Damn you, it was your idea!"
"Not that," he said. "The way you did it. I thought you didn't know how--didn't know what a man wanted. I thought you were too prissy and Puritanical to learn. I thought that sex disgusted you, but how wrong I was! Well, you can go ahead and think whatever you want to think about my past, because I just don't give a damn any more. I'm through being punished for something that's done and over with. I knew you could fuck up a storm--you made the mistake of doing it for me once; remember? Is that when Paul got to you? Is that when you started fucking around on me with Banner?"
He was leaning over her, beating down at her with his words. She looked at him, stunned, shaking her head with incomprehension.
"Bob, stop ... I don't understand! What are you saying? Who is Paul? What past are you talking about? Honey, I haven't been punishing you for anything! Bob, stop it!"
"Don't pull that innocent shit on me!" he roared. "You know goddamn well who Paul is!"
She searched his face anxiously. "No, Bob," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know, I swear I don't know who Paul is."
He stopped and looked at her. The blood beat through his head. He watched her expression. The coldness was gone, the glint of ice in her eyes was gone. She really didn't know.
"Then why were you punishing me, Barb?" he asked, sitting on the bed. His knees went rubbery with emotion.
She looked away, opened her mouth. It would be so easy to fabricate something, to deny her own lecherous past, to deny and deny without explanation or meaning or truth until whatever they had that held them together melted away into nothing.
She turned her head back and brushed the hair from her eyes. "I wasn't punishing you, Bob. I was hiding from you. I was hiding from myself. I was wrong. It was all wrong. I want to start over again, and you won't let me."
He stared at her. "You were hiding from me?"
"Yes."
"What were you hiding?"
She paused again, and her voice was firm. "If I tell you, Bob, it will be on one condition." "What?"
"You cannot hold what I tell you against me. You say your past is over? Well, so is mine. I don't know what you did, and I haven't been punishing you. I won't punish you. You must return that to me."
"All right," he said.
She took a deep breath. "I was a whore. Not a bright one, not an expensive one, not a managed one. When I needed money I fucked for it. Anybody who would pay me. I started when I was nine. My parents weren't rich and sophisticated and educated and killed while flying to Europe the way I said. I lied to you because I thought that's what you wanted to hear."
"Barbara...."
"I fucked and I sucked the way I drank water--because I needed to. Not only for money, but for sex. When I was twelve I wanted to join a club of neighborhood kids. For initiation the boys made me suck all their cocks in one hour. There were ten of them. I did it. Rod Banner was one of them. Then the girls wanted their pussies eaten, and I did that. The boys became more inventive, and I had ten pricks rammed up my ass. There was more. They didn't let me into the club when I was finished because they were ashamed of themselves." "Barbara, I...."
"I didn't have a mother. My father gave me dimes for jacking him off or sucking his prick. It became a way of life--a way to get money for food and clothes. I had a price schedule for services performed Rod can tell you what it was. I wasn't a good business woman. Not even when I met you at that party. My date screwed me down to twenty-three dollars if I paid the cab fare home. That was when I saw you at the party and decided that I'd had enough! I'm sorry, Bob--I thought you were a man who wouldn't have needs, would protect me and keep me secure for ... maybe twice a month. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry for what I've done. But once I got started being Barbara Miller instead of Wilma Higby, I was trapped. I knew if I fucked the way you wanted me to that you'd want to know more, and I was ashamed. When I started wanting sex again, it was too late to do it with you. There was a woman, Bob. Only one. No men--until tonight. That's what I was hiding from you, darling."
"God!" he cried, his face twisting with a multitude of emotions. "Oh, God!"
She moved up and put her arms around him tightly. "You promised, Bob, you promised!"
"I didn't know!...."
"Tell me about Paul, Bob!" she said desperately, trying to hold him still. "You must tell me what you were hiding from me!"
He buried his face in her breasts. "I can't!" he cried.
"For God's sake, darling, it can't be as bad as "I've told you about myself! What is it?" "I....I...." "Come on!"
"There ... there was a beer party--" "What did he do? I don't want to hear all that! What did you do?"
"He sucked me off!" Bob cried. "And you liked it, didn't you?" "I hit him!"
"But you liked it! Admit it, Bob! You liked it!"
"Ahhgh-yes!" he cried, twisting on the bed in anguish, fighting in the circle of her smothering body.
"You were ashamed, too!" she said, wiping his forehead with her hand. It was covered with sweat, and his body shook.
"Yes, Barbara, I was ashamed! I thought you knew! He swore he'd get even with me for hitting him when he tried ... tried...."
"Did you want to suck his prick, too? Don't be ashamed--tell the truth!"
"No! No!"
"I don't care, darling-don't you understand, I don't care! We can go to another swap party and you can suck all the pricks you want to now, and I won't care!"
"I don't want that!" he cried, shaking his head. "I want women! I want to fuck and fuck and make up for all the times you've denied me!"
"All right, Bob, I'll let you. Any time you want-anybody you choose! I'll fuck her with you if you want me to, darling, and then we can come home and I'll bend your prick and twist it in knots with my cunt and my tongue and my ass until you squirt and squirt all your juice out of your balls into my writhing, screaming body! You remember the first time, darling-it's going to be like that from now on! Even better, because now we understand each other and can love each other again! Oh, Bob, it worked! Your beautiful, wonderful swap party worked, do you hear? We're free again!"
Barbara took her arms from around him and undid the catch of her bra. Her tits spilled out of the cups and dangled on his chest. She rolled her panties down her thighs, mopping at her pussy with the wadded nylon to remove the semen of the other men. She ripped at his shirt and pants and stripped them from his body. Then she grabbed his prick and stuffed it into her mouth and sucked on it avidly, moaning, her cheeks puffing in and out obscenely until his penis bloated and bloomed inside her grasping, sucking throat.
"Barbara!" he cried. He began to writhe. "Honey, you're better than any of them!"
She pulled his prick from her mouth and kissed his balls, laving them with her tongue. She ran the tip under his crotch and stabbed the thick, wet tongue into his asshole, licking around the puckered orifice until his buttocks quivered with heat.
She released him and straddled his hips, centering her cunt over the shaft of his prick. She spread her pussy lips with her fingers and sat on his reaming cock, thrusting it up her cunt to the hairy base of his root.
She writhed and screwed her pelvis around on top of his cock, twisting and jerking her pussy back and forth, bringing his hands to her wildly throbbing tits and mashing them down hard.
He moaned and opened his eyes and looked into her face. Her mouth was full and smiling, and her hair was tousled around her head. She had the look of animal heat in her face that made him growl with virile lust. He watched her dark muff tangle with his own pubic hair as she lifted her ass and settled back down, making his cock slide in and out of her steaming cunt. "Oh, darling," she cried heatedly. "Oh, how I've wanted to do this to you for so long!"
Bob growled again. Then he placed his hands on her thighs and pushed, toppling her over onto her side. Her eyes popped open, and she watched him climb over her body without his cock coming out of her clutching cunt. He settled between her thighs and raised his butt.
"I'm going to fuck the hell out of you!" he said.
"Oh, do it, honey! Do it!"
He rammed and pounded and banged into her cunt, driving his prick to the back of her vaginal canal. He felt her pussy twist and rotate around his shaft, better than Sue or Janice or Peggy or any of the rest of them put together. He was going out of his mind with the feel of her fucking cunt, the feel of her willing, demanding body under his. It was better than the first time ever could be, because there was more meaning behind it now.
"Here it comes, Barbara!" he cried. "Squirt! Blast! Come! Ohhh ... FUCK ME HONEY!"
She pulled his butt into her cupping thighs with her hands, driving his prick all the way into her body. He felt her orgasm starting just as his prick bucked and shot out the first hot gush of white-heated cum. Then they writhed and twisted and rolled on the bed in paroxysms of climaxing passion that drained them both dry.
They slept naked in each other's arms while the light burned overhead.
Bob sat behind his desk again, looking out the window. His fingers were steepled together, and his feet were propped on the desk. Beside them lay the piles of papers and sheets and specs on Futures Unlimited. Next to them was his report that Crandall had already asked about once this morning.
He was getting nowhere. He was at a dead-end. It was ironic. Now that he'd found his wife he wasn't going to be able to keep her. His phone rang. He picked it up and heard Barbara's voice. He nearly didn't recognize it, it was so soft and gentle.
"Hello, darling," she said.
"Hello yourself, sweetie, what's the matter?"
"Can't I call you and tell you I miss you?" "Sure," he smiled. "But you never used to do that."
"A lot of things are going to be different, Bob." "I'm glad."
"There was a reason besides telling you I can't wait until you get home tonight."
"What was that, hmmm?" he asked, feeling like a love-sick teenager and liking it.
"I remembered that name you mentioned last night."
"What name was that? Did I mention a name?" "That Vince Bartollo. I remembered about him."
Bob jerked awake as if jolted by an electric probe. "What!"
"I used to know one-know of him, anyway. He ran a call-girl operation out of Chicago back when ... back before we were married. One of the girls tried to get me to join, but I didn't. I couldn't ... Oh, Bob, I hope this doesn't upset you, talking about my past again."
"No, that's all right, honey, go on! What about him? Fat, short, dark, smokes a smelly cigar? Mean-looking mouth, and a scar on his chin?"
"Wait, Bob!" she laughed. I only saw him once, and that was across the room. I can't tell you for sure, but I thought maybe you could check up on it. The girl who talked me out of joining up said they were a bunch of gangsters."
"Barbara, I love you!" he whooped. "Honey, your dirty past has just made us a boatload of money and a new title! I knew they were hiding something! I knew it!"
"Bob ... ? Bob? Are you still there?"
"Yeah," he said, scribbling notes furiously, his mind running far ahead and whirling out the details faster than his fingers could move.
"What did Janice say? Have you talked to her yet?"
He stopped writing and grinned into the phone. "Say, I'm going to have to keep my eye on you," he laughed.
"Well, when is the next party?"
"Next week."
"Do you want to go, darling?"
"Do you?"
"I asked you first!"
"Do we need to go already?"
"A week's a long way off," she said.
"We'll see," he said. "We'll go for variety, and nothing else how's that?"
"That sounds like you're saying you love me."
"That's what I'm saying, Barbara."
"I was hoping you were. I love you, too, darling. It's a deal. We go for variety only because we've already found what we needed to find. Oh, hurry home, Bob, I'm leaking for you already!"
"Your what is needing what?" he grinned.
"My cunt needs your prick to fuck it, Mr. Big-Balls!"
He laughed. "That's better," he said. "I'll be home as fast as I can get there!" " 'Bye, lover."
He hung up the phone, scooped up his notes, and headed out the door for Crandall's office to get him to delay the deadline again. He stopped at Janice's desk.
"Make an appointment with the photographer, Janice," he said. "I want Mrs. Miller to sit for another portrait. The one I have isn't any good any more."
He winked at her. Then he turned and strode down the hall with big steps, whistling loudly. Janice smiled after him and picked up the phone, glad to have a boss again.
