Abby's eyes flickered shut and her hand caressed her vagina in a tantalizing rhythmic motion that nearly drove Mike crazy with excitement. His cock thrashed in his pants, his whole body trembled with lust, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was practically begging him to fuck her!
Gently she took his hand and guided it to the triangular bulge of her wet pussy ... parting her cunt lips for him to see her erect clit ... pushing' one finger deep inside her clasping cunt ... pulling it out again so he knew for certain that this woman meant business-and he was sure going to give it to her!
CHAPTER ONE
Abbey closed her eyes and forced herself to accept the fact. It had been short and sweet. Well, maybe not sweet, but certainly short. Her husband hadn't even bothered to kiss her during the previous few moments of the all-toofamiliar ritual of sex satisfaction. Satisfaction for him, that is. Certainly hot for Abby.
It hadn't always been this way. Her husband had once been so thoroughly the romantic, so complete in his lovemaking ... so devoted to her needs. But that had all diminished lately, and Abby didn't know how much more of this kind of neglect she could take. She was now, and had always been, a passionate woman. She turned over on her pillow and looked at him as he slept. There even seemed to be a certain sneer of a smile on his handsome face. A sneer that made her stomach grind, forgetting its frustrated tightness. What was there to do? She wondered helplessly. What could she do?
It was time for a change, that much was certain. True, he had performed well enough tonight in basic terms, shooting his load deep up inside her until now it was oozing warmly out in the tangles of her pubic hairs and dribbling slowly down the insides of her thighs. The only problem was that the old spark just wasn't there.
He'd been so enthusiastic in the early days of their marriage, and now the only-person he cared about was himself. He went through the motions all right-the gasping, the heavy breathing as he pounded mercilessly into her loins, but his mind, his imagination seemed to be somewhere else. What was she supposed to do when he treated her like this? She'd tried everything to make him desire her, but nothing seemed to work-not the new nightgowns she'd purchased, not even the new positions they had both tried.
What in the world had gone wrong? In the first days of their marriage six years ago, every thing had gone along like a dream. They were poor then-she, working as a secretary in New York, Mike writing his poetry and struggling to sell it to editors who would rather look the other way. But in spite of their frustrations, their life together had been a happy one. He was buoyant and confident, even when what he'd written was rejected. He hadn't minded washing dishes and cooking dinner, either. They had each shared their burdens and fully enjoyed each other. It was only when success came for Mike that things started to go wrong.
Shortly after the publication of his first volume of poetry, he'd been offered a job by Willowmount college, a position as a creative writing instructor. The money was not fantastic by any means, but it was enough to live on comfortably, and besides, the college had offered them free housing as a kind of fringe benefit. Abby looked forward to their new life with joyous enthusiasm. They would be free of financial burdens; their struggle would be easier. No longer would she be forced to work as a secretary. She could be at home with Mike, and they would have the company of intellectual and creative people, something they had both always desired.
At first Mike thrived in the new environment. He enjoyed his classes. The students may not have been the brightest in the world, but they were highly motivated and wanted to learn, and some of the poetry they produced under his guidance was highly exceptional. As for their social life, it was full and rich. Abby had the freedom to stay at home and read books and even take a few courses toward a Master's degree, which she hadn't yet completed. On weekends there would be cocktail parties at the homes of other professors, and there were good films to see, athletic activities, even arts and crafts. It was an ideal life, away from the pressures and hassles of the ordinary world. In fact, it was too good a life, and perhaps that was the problem. There was no struggle in it. Yes, Abby reflected now as she saw Mike dozing. They had been happiest when they were struggling. They were in a rut now, and something had to be done.
Mike had grown fatter recently, and he seemed to have less energy. The way he kissed her goodbye in the mornings was perfunctory, almost as though he were leaving for some nine-to-five advertising job in New York City. When he returned home from classes he would begin drinking almost immediately. She was no prude about drinking, but Mike's had seemed to pass the social stage. It seemed as though he were frustrated and running away from some thing-not that it affected his teaching. He showed up for every class and gave his all until even the head of the English Department, Pete Grover, was praising his efforts. He was respected, no doubt about that. The problem was that his professional colleagues had failed to notice the inward changes that were taking place inside him.
No, he hadn't changed outwardly at all, Abby admitted to herself. The only change was in his relationship with her. They had settled down and become middle-class, and now in recent months he had been taking her for granted. God, she detested that ... she could stand anything but being taken for granted. And what troubled her even more was that her reaction was one of a typical housewife ... she had become bitchy and abrasive, complaining about small, trivial things instead of saying what was really on her mind. She realized she was married to a poet but couldn't keep herself from complaining about the mess that he made in the bathroom, the way he left his fingernail clippings on the bedsheets. She was becoming petty, a thing she hated, and it was all his fault.
He was ignoring her, and she was retaliating with the only means at her disposal. For a time she had wondered whether he'd found another woman, and in fact, that would have been an easy explanation for his behavior, an explanation she could accept ... but no, not even in her wildest imagination could that explanation be valid. It was simply that Mike had become too contented with his position at the university. The lack of struggle had taken the fight out of him ... he had become just as bourgeois as anyone else in spite of the badge he wore as poet-in-residence. But what was she going to do? It didn't seem fair that the excitement had been taken out of their lives even before they had reached the age of thirty.
Looking over at him, she saw his mouth half-open, his chest heaving as he snored. He was dead to the world, fast asleep at nine o'clock in the evening, even though he had no classes until twelve the following morning. This wasn't the man she'd married at all. The man she'd married was a hot-blooded young poet determined to conquer and leave his mark on the literary world, a man full of passion and desire, unlike normal men who were content to go to their jobs and return to the dull glow of a television set in a warm living room. The man she'd married had never failed to satisfy her sexually ... that is, until recently. And now Abby felt that he had ignored her with his body as well as his mind.
Sighing once again, the trim blonde pivoted off the bed and threw her short, diaphanous peignoir over her shoulders. There was no use waking Mike, she knew. It would be practically impossible, and if he did get up, he wouldn't be able to satisfy her.
At the same time, she knew she couldn't sleep ... not at this hour, not after Mike had aroused her to a peak of 'stimulation without fully following through. Matters were in her own hands now....Perhaps if she went downstairs and had a drink, she could calm her nerves. Softly she crept over the thickly padded carpeting of the bedroom, down the stairs into the living room, where she went to the bar and poured two shots of whiskey in a glass over ice. She took a sip, bracing herself as the burning liquid trickled down her throat, and then she moved to the living-room couch. . Damn him, she thought. What right did he have to ignore her, to treat her as though she were old, fat and ugly, as though screwing her were a duty rather than a pleasure. She certainly wasn't old, and she knew she wasn't ugly at all. Stretching her legs out, she looked down at them. They were long and willowy, her skin was still smooth as satin, and she had kept herself in shape with gym classes at the college. Her long lithe legs tapered up to the sensual curves of her hips and the flat plane of her belly, which was visible just under the lower part of her translucent bed garment. Her eyes fixed on her own body, feasting on it, almost as though it belonged to someone else. No, she hadn't grown worse with age, she'd improved, if anything ... Why in the world had Mike suddenly become bored with her? He'd always been so romantic, romantic even to the point of silliness. When they'd been going together, he'd written poems about her body, poems that embarrassed her until she had come to know him better.
"Stop reading those silly poems and kiss me, Mike," she remembered saying.
"What do you mean 'silly'?" he protested, "That's the way I feel. You're incredible."
If only he would act like that now. She would take the foolish romantic he had been any day over the dull sedate college teacher he had become. But what could she do? She certainly couldn't hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. No, the only alternative now was to satisfy herself, something she hadn't done since her teenage years.
Though she tried to control the urge, she couldn't help looking down at the golden "vee" of pubic hair at the tender inner junction of her thighs. Automatically, instinctively, her hand went down to caress the outsides of her legs, bringing a tingling excitement that spread through her entire body. Feeling her pussy lips twitch involuntarily, she knew the temptation was now too strong to resist. If only Mike had taken longer, if only he had refrained from simply shoving his cock inside her and coming at a moment's notice, she wouldn't be reduced to this. But he had left her hanging, and now there was only one thing left to do. Slowly her legs slithered apart and she felt her hand moving up between her thighs, her middle finger rigid and extended.
Closing her eyes, she could remember the first time Mike had taken her. They had done it in her apartment on the third date. For a couple of hours the two of them had been simply sitting side by side listening to stereo music, not even touching, and then he turned to her.
"Listen, Abby," he said. "I think we should both go to bed."
She remembered laughing. After all the romantic poems he'd written to her, it seemed such a simple direct request that she could hardly refuse. Indeed she'd been taken offguard, but nevertheless had managed to rise to the occasion.
"I think you're right," she said. "After all, why should we play games?"
She remembered leading him to the bedroom and the gentle way he'd stripped her clothes off, his fingers tenderly drawing down her zipper, slipping the straps of her dress down over her shoulders until, in a matter of moments, they were both naked together on the bed. As she recalled the scene of their first encounter, ripples of pleasure chilled her spine. Why couldn't things be like that now? Why did they have to change?
Her middle finger was almost all the way up to the glistening "vee" between her legs now, and she held it poised, trembling at the narrow entrance of her slit. Oh God, she wondered, why am I forced to do this? And yet there was no controlling herself. In her mind she could see Mike's cock the way it had been the first time he fucked her.
She could see it rigid and bulging between his legs, the massive mushroom-like head bloated with blood as a tiny drop of milk-white pre-cum oozed out of the narrow slit. She could remember the way she trembled as she lay on the bed waiting for him to mount her, to plunge his massive rod of flesh deep into her warmly waiting vagina. And remembering all this, her last resistance gave way. Her hand came to rest on the bulging mound of her vagina, her fingers nestling on the tangle of blonde pubic hairs.
With a life of its own, her outstretched middle finger grazed the tiny bud of her clitoris, bringing it to instant alert. God, it felt so good ... she hadn't done this in such a long time.
It was almost hopeless to try stopping. After all, her husband hadn't satisfied her in months. She had to do something.
The soft jolt of her finger against her aroused clitoris had sent a wild tremor of pleasure through her body, but she knew there would be no enjoyment in doing things too fast. Slowly she glided her hands up over her belly beneath her flimsy nightgown until they cupped her full firm breasts, her thumbs rubbing against the nipples so that they tapered out into tiny dart-like points. They stiffened with pleasure, increasing the sense of desire inside her already moist loins. God, how she wished she could suck her nipples herself ... Mike hadn't done that for so long. Slowly, as her tongue circled her moist red lips, she began kneading her breasts rhythmically, her buttocks grinding against the sofa pillows in a slow sensuous movement.
How long had it been since Mike had raved over the suppleness of her body, how long since he had kissed her all over and fondled her before driving his cock up inside her pussy? It seemed like an eternity. God, he'd driven her wild when he curled his tongue lovingly around her stiff nipples in the early days of their marriage. She could even feel his hands running over the softness of her belly and thighs now, but it had been so long ago that it was just a dream to her now.
Quickly her mind faded from the distant memory to a more recent one. They had gone to a faculty cocktail party at the home of Pete Grover, the English Department chairman, about a month ago, a party which had started out in an ordinary enough way. Small groups of people standing around chatting about literature and criticism, discussing the latest faculty gossip. In short, a typically harmless party until Grover had accosted her in the hallway.
"I've been meaning to speak to you a long time, Abby," he said, placing his arms on her shoulders and drawing her toward him. She was half-drunk at the time and hardly realized what he was up to.
"Tell me," he said, "you must get tired of that brilliant husband of yours once in a while."
"Pete, what in the world do you have on your mind."
Suddenly without warning, he pressed his lips against hers and slipped his arms down around her waist until his hands were pressing hotly into her buttocks. She struggled to break away, but he only shoved his loins more tightly against hers, sending hot sensations of unwanted desire traveling through her body. For a long moment, she could not bring herself to break away from him, and it wasn't just a question of overpowering physical strength on his part. She had realized at that moment that she wanted another man to make love to her, to desire her as passionately as Mike once had.
Fortunately, she had managed to regain her composure soon enough for the sake of propriety.
"Professor," she said jokingly. "What would your wife think if she came out here?"
"Don't worry, my dear," he leered. "This is a liberal arts college after all. We must practice the liberal arts as well as teach them."
They both laughed, and she effected a quick escape to the bathroom upstairs, but the memory of that moment burned in her mind and returned to her at the present moment as her hands squeezed the soft stiff-nippled flesh of her breasts. God, could it be that she was a whore, a nymphomaniac? Had she been expecting too much of her own husband? And yet she couldn't help recalling the days when he had performed so passionately and so well. No, she was sure he could satisfy her once she reawakened his old instincts, and yet now at this moment she was alone, alone and desperate for the physical satisfaction that Mike had denied her.
As one hand continued massaging her breast, the other slipped down and resumed rubbing her curl-covered pubic mound, as though she could bring back the excitement of the early days of her marriage. God, what was she coming to? What if Mike's neglect drove her into the beds of other men, where would it all end? What if Pete Grover happened to bump into her on campus and suggest they go for a drink somewhere? Would she be able to refuse? He was an older man, but still trim and attractive, and the incident .in the hallway at his house had left a lingering impression on her ... she'd been so excited by his suggestive touch.
Abby leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes, letting her fingers continue their intimate caressing of her pulsating little clitoral bud and feeling the rising heat of desire in her body fuse and merge with the filmy material of her gown. Mingled images of her own husband and of Pete Grover ran crazily through her mind with a strength and intensity that made them almost real. She could see the two of them together taking her clothes off in her own living room, Pete wildly caressing her breasts as Mike sank to his knees and planted hot passionate kisses against her vagina, slithering his tongue snake-like up into her moistly palpitating cuntal slit.
The power of the fantasy was so strong that a savage rush of desire sped through her body from the depths of her stomach to the extremities of her limbs. With a slight groan she slid her middle finger up in between her moistened labia, feeling an electrical sensation race the length of her spine. God, how she wished she could turn her fingers into a bulging male cock that would thrust rhythmically up into her belly, twitch and pulsate inside her until she gasped and screamed in ecstasy. If only her husband cared about her the way he once had and could perform as in the past! But no, she was driven to this ... trying to satisfy herself with her own fingers. This isn't good enough, she decided suddenly. There's got to be something else....
Possessed by a mad impulse, Abby hurried to the kitchen where she opened the refrigerator door and rummaged in the vegetable bin until she found a long, thick carrot. Oh God, I must be going crazy, she thought to herself. I've never done anything like this before. But it was too late to stop, for her whole body was alive with mad desire, and demanded fulfillment.
Despite a nagging guilt for having been reduced to such a state, she returned to the living room, slumped on the couch, and spread her legs slightly apart, the carrot trembling slightly in her hand as she poised it between her open thighs. Oh Jesus, it feels just like a cock, a huge bulging man's cock, she whispered to herself as she threw her head back and closed her eyes tightly shut. Slowly she guided the phallic vegetable upward until she felt the point tickling her vaginal slit. God, it felt so good, so beautiful, it was making her tremble all over.
Timidly at first she began to pump the carrot in and out of her seething cuntal flesh, her fingers stroking her creamy inner thighs at the same time.
As she shoved it up another quarter of an inch it began to feel even more like a real cock, fulfilling the desperate craving of her starved womanhood. At the same time the titillating forbiddenness of her shameless self-fucking sent chills of lurid delight swirling through her overwrought body. Oh God, this is incredible, she thought as the thick object slid all the way inside her up to its bulging knobby end. She must have had eight inches of it inside her, more than she had ever taken before.
Her lips baring back over her teeth, she began to groan and twist around on the sofa pillows.
"Oh Mike, Pete, fuck me, both of you fuck me, please!" she groaned as she began to accelerate the pumping rhythm, her buttocks grinding and her legs spasming even wider apart.
"Harder, harder," she gasped. Her mind was reeling away on a sea of fantasy. She could feel Pete Grover's hands running wildly over her breasts and buttocks, she could feel her husband's tongue swirling around her nipples. Why couldn't it be like this in real life? Why couldn't she be satisfied every night the way she was satisfying herself now?
Her legs began jerking and twitching more spasmodically now as the cock-like object rammed up into her belly, propelled and controlled by her own hands.
With every driving thrust she felt the tiny twitches of pleasure rapidly building to an orgasm that would shatter every fiber of her nerves. She churned wildly, thrashing against the sofa, her blonde hair whipping from shoulder to shoulder as she grunted and gasped in savage abandon.
"Uhhhhh-oh-OHHH!" she moaned as her breasts heaved and jiggled.
She was cumming now ... it was building to a frenzied climax. She thrust the carrot as deep inside her wide-stretched pussy as it could go, and then for a long second her body stiffened to perfect rigidity. There was a trembling, twitching sensation inside her loins, and suddenly the dam burst. She groaned, her legs twitched, and the long-stored fire within her belly began spewing out through the gateway of her, hotly palpitating cuntal lips.
It came in quick spurts, poured down the insides of her churning thighs, running in rivulets down over the bulge of her buttocks until suddenly she was free and took a deep gasping breath. Jesus, she was satisfied now, she thought, really satisfied. But this couldn't go on any longer. She couldn't continue turning inward like this, seeking satisfaction with her own hands. If her marriage were going to be saved she would have to do something to reawaken her husband's desire, to rejuvenate him in one way or another.
Returning to reality, Abby stared down at her widespread legs, her eyes fixing on the sticky trickling moisture clinging to her thighs, then shifting to the "cock-like vegetable that lay on the floor by her feet. What in the world had she done? It seemed as though her husband's neglect had driven her into a mad childish fantasy, and even though she prided herself on being mature and liberal, a sense of guilt began to plague her. She was too old to be doing things like this. Besides, she was married ... she had to help her husband, not retreat from him into these wild autoerotic fantasies.
Quickly she picked up the carrot, threw it in a kitchen trash basket and returned to the living room where she finished her drink. For a moment the thought ran through her mind of trying to wake Mike just to see if she could arouse him, but as she made her way up the stairs to the bedroom she quickly squelched it. There was no use; he would be snoring soundly and would only growl at her if disturbed.
Oh Lord, she thought, there has to be some way to restore his energy and imagination ... Perhaps a trip somewhere. As she pondered, an idea quickly came to her. Of course, why didn't I think of it before? Mike has no classes on Monday, and we could take a long weekend to go up to the cabin in Maine.
Perfect, she thought as she entered the bedroom and slipped quietly into bed next to him, making every effort not to disturb his contented slumber. She recalled the time six years ago when they'd honeymooned alone on Lobster Island, luxuriating in the stillness and the scenery which had served as such an effective source of creative inspiration. Every morning, Mike had risen at the crack of dawn and begun working on his poems, putting them in shape for the book that he would eventually sell to a large and distinguished publishing house.
Never in her life could she recall a happier time for either her husband or herself. True, since then they'd gone up to the island during the summers, but only to see her parents, and then it had been more like a family circus than a quiet retreat-barbecues, parties, constant conversation, boating trips. It wasn't the same at all, and perhaps that was the reason that Mike had resisted going up there recently.
This time it would be different, she assured herself. Her parents were home in New York, the cottage was free, there would be no one to disturb them. For her it would be a second honeymoon, although she wouldn't present it that way to Mike. No, she would say simply that they needed a change of scenery to give him inspiration. After all, by his own admission he had hardly written anything worthwhile in the last two years, and she was positive she could convince him that a trip to Maine would be not only beneficial but necessary. Yes, it would be perfect. Lobster Island would bring them both back to an even keel.
CHAPTER TWO
The drive to Maine from New Jersey was too long to accomplish in one day, and so they'd stayed overnight in Boston, gone to a couple of jazz clubs, and continued early the next morning.
"Oh, it's lovely," Abby sighed as they followed the coastal road that snaked around Penobscot Bay.
"You know, it's funny," Mike said. "I thought this was going to be a pain in the ass at first, but now I'm really getting into it. I may be able to get some writing done after all."
With a smile, Abby reached-over and squeezed his hand. Everything was working like a charm. Already he seemed like a different person.
"We'll have to get some groceries first on the mainland and then find someone to take us over in a boat."
"Great. Let's get enough supplies for three days so we can just hole up there and enjoy ourselves. God, I can't believe the weather, it's fantastic!" Mike exclaimed.
Though it was mid-October, the sky was clear and blue and the temperature brisk but not uncomfortably so. It was the best time of the year for Maine, Mike thought. The mosquitoes would be gone now, the island deserted, and the nights just cool enough to enjoy a cozy wood fire. Hell, once he got into the swing of things his writing would come easily. He knew, of course, that Abby hadn't just suggested coming here for that reason ... she had something else on her mind, and he certainly couldn't blame her.
He knew he'd been neglecting her in bed recently, but he wasn't sure exactly why. It was tied in to something much deeper, more complicated, than sex alone, and if it could be summarized in one word, that word would have to be boredom.
Yes, boredom, he chuckled to himself. Here he was at the age of twenty-eight, already a published poet with a comfortable position in a small New Jersey college. It was everything he'd dreamed of and the struggle to achieve it hadn't really been that difficult, which of course was part of the problem. He wished now that he'd done something like ship but on a merchant marine vessel or gone to live in Paris. It would have been more romantic, more adventurous. But no, instead he and Abby had become boring and middle-class, having sacrificed their freedom for security.
"Well, at least you don't have to work in an advertising agency," Abby had cheered him numerous times, but what was the difference? Mike asked himself. Teaching was a day-to-day job with responsibilities and long stretches of boring moments as well as some stimulating ones. Sure, he enjoyed teaching writing courses ... the only problem was that he felt life was beginning to close in.
He knew Abby wasn't fond of the way he'd been drinking lately, coming home and passing out in bed shortly after dinner, and while he knew it, there wasn't much he could do to change it. It was all connected with the boredom, the feeling of being trapped, the fact that he wasn't able to write anymore the way he used to and had failed to publish anything in a period of two years.
If only there were some escape, something different ... a woman, maybe. Yes, that was it, even though he didn't relish the thought of cheating on Abby. Hell, she was good in bed, in fact a lot better than he'd been lately, she wasn't bitchy or whiny, and yet there was a certain excitement in having another woman ... a woman like Linda Grover, for example, Pete Grover's wife.
As he thought of her, Mike recalled the cocktail party over at Pete's house some months ago. Linda, who was almost forty but trim and svelte and in fact much younger-looking than her age, had come over to where he was sitting and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Mike, dear, could you help me, please? I have an awfully heavy tray in the kitchen."
"Of course," he'd said, not aware of what was really on her mind until a moment later when they were alone together. Suddenly without warning her hands were on his shoulders and she was pressing her body tightly against his.
"God, I get so tired of these empty intellectual discussions sometimes," she whispered almost desperately, and before Mike knew what was happening, they were locked in a tight embrace, her lips hot against his, her tongue swirling inside his mouth, hungrily, eagerly, as though she desperately desired his body.
He hardly knew what hit him then, and of course he'd never mentioned the incident to Abby, but lately he found himself thinking of Linda quite a lot. He knew something was going to happen between them. It was bound to ... it was just a matter of time.
As the road sign for the small town of Castine came up, Mike's mind returned to the present.
"Well, here we are," Abby said excitedly. "Oh, Mike, we're going to have a beautiful time, I'm sure of it."
They stopped at the food store first, picking up several days' worth of supplies from Amos Shucker, who greeted them warmly even though he hadn't seen Abby in years.
"Long time since you been up heah," he laughed. "Sure I can't sell you some long Johns? Gonna be cold over there at night."
"We brought our own, Amos. I'm sure well get along fine."
"Never can tell. Cold snap might come up, might get fogged in over there."
"Amos, is there anybody who can take us over to the island?" Abby asked.
"Eah, Tony Warren over at the marina's got a boat. You'll probably catch him now."
Mike straggled with the large carton full of food and supplies, and in a few minutes they were in Warren's boat heading across the bay to Lobster Island. The trees lining the shore in the distance had already turned to their fall colors, presenting a startling scene of orange and gold and yellow. A light breeze skimmed the bay, and as Mike took a deep breath, his lungs were filled with clean pure air. Abby's idea had been a good one all right. He would really enjoy staying here for a few days, he was sure of it.
"You may have company," Warren suddenly piped up from the stern as he guided the boat toward the landing dock.
"Oh, what do you mean?"
"Word is, there's some other people on the island. Or were. Not sure if they're still there or not."
Abby and Mike exchanged puzzled glances. Her parents had assured them the island was deserted now, that everyone had returned home. So it was a surprise to hear Warren's news.
"What the hell," Mike shrugged. "Well stay out of their way, and they'll stay out of ours." And with that they stepped out of the boat as it jolted to a stop against the dock.
About an hour later Mike had gone out to check the motor on Abby's parents' boat and make sure it was in working condition, leaving Abby to sort out the supplies and store them away.
I really love this place, his wife was thinking as she set about her task, stacking the canned goods in the cabinets, putting the perishables away in the propane-powered refrigerator. When she'd finished she took a short walk outside the cottage, reveling in their isolation, the beauty of the surroundings. Tall birch trees swung gracefully in the light breeze, the fluffy clouds overhead glided idly by, and the only sound was the crunching of twigs and leaves underfoot. She was certain that a long weekend here would be good for both of them.
Returning to the cottage, Abby headed into the large spacious bedroom to undress, feeling as she removed her garments that she was stepping out of the confinement of their life at the college into a new, if temporary, freedom. They were alone together, she could do anything she wanted, even walk around naked if she wished.
Which was exactly what she felt like doing at the moment. Clad only in her brassiere and thin filmy panties she stood in front of a full length mirror, surveying herself appraisingly, as though she-were an outsider looking in. What she saw pleased her. Her legs were long and willowy, her hips well-rounded and flaring, her breasts firm and full, still high-set and crowned by the tips of her tiny red nipples, visible even through the confines of her brassiere.
She was sure now that with Mike in a different environment, their sex life would begin to improve until if was as good as it had been years ago. How could Mike resist her? she wondered. How could any man resist her? She turned and pirouetted as though she were a model, craning her neck to get a view from the rear. Her short blonde hair curved inward over the back of her neck, her shoulders were smooth, the curve of her spine long and sensual. No, there's nothing wrong with me at all, she thought. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could arouse the old spark in Mike just as soon as he walked through the door. It would be nice to do it spontaneously for once, right in the middle of the afternoon, instead of waiting until bedtime. As the thought ran through her mind, she could hear a rustling noise outside the window, and her ears suddenly perked up.
"Mike, is that you? Mike?"
But there was no answer. She walked to the window and peered outside in time to see something or someone scurrying through the woods away from the cabin. At first she thought it might have been an animal, but no ... through the trees she could see flashes of a black-and-red hunting jacket. It looked as though Tony Warren was right. There was someone else on the island, and he was certainly acting peculiarly. She wondered how long whoever it was had been standing around ogling her as she paraded in front of the mirror half-naked. The thought of strangers intruding on her paradise caused a slight chill to run up her spine, and she was glad when Mike came back up from the dock a few moments later.
"Well, look at you," he laughed. "It certainly looks like you slipped into something comfortable."
"Mike, did you see anybody or hear anything? I think there was somebody outside the window watching me."
"Probably just a raccoon."
"Raccoons don't wear hunting jackets, do they?"
CHAPTER THREE
Mike Dalko didn't really believe his wife's story about a man in a hunting jacket watching her through the window as she undressed, but then again, she wasn't the hysterical type. She was level-headed and reasonable, and if she said she'd seen someone running through the woods, he had to believe her. Probably some kid, Mike thought.
The best thing to do was to circle the island in the boat and look for any signs of strangers. That way he could check the motor and at the same time find out whether they had unwanted company. If some kids had come over he could easily chase them off to keep them from doing damage to the neighbors' places. If not, well, he could reassure Abby that they were alone and set her mind at rest.
Besides, it would be fun taking the boat out. Maybe there would be some seals or interesting birds to look at. Pushing out into the low tide he paddled clear of the rocks into the channel and started the motor, running it at a slow speed. Off near the mainland he could see a graceful gray heron swooping low, skimming the water and rising again with a tiny fish as its prize. In between the stands of trees in the distance he could see well kept-up clapboard cottages and even some stately old houses done in Victorian style. This was the time of year to come up to Lobster Island, he thought ... it was still relatively warm in the daytime, and with no other people around, there was a good feeling of closeness, communion with nature. He could have kicked himself now for not taking advantage of the place more often.
It was when the boat had circled halfway around the tiny island that he saw the girl sitting on the beach. So, Abby was right. They did have company. He wondered whether the girl and the phantom in the hunting jacket were part of the same group, but there was only one way to find out, he thought, and headed the boat toward shore.
As it drew closer, he could see her more clearly. She was young, a teenager, a hippie type who might have passed for one of his students, and even as the boat came up into, shallow water, she did not make any move to run away but merely looked up and smiled at him.
"Hi," she said. "You just come over from the mainland?"
"No, we're staying on the island on the other side," he called back.
As he tied the boat up to a tree he couldn't help fixing his eyes on her ... God, she was a young siren, dressed in tight-fitting cutoff jeans and a faded blue work shirt that was halfway unbuttoned, revealing the inner curves of her high-set, youthful breasts. Even from a distance of ten feet away he could tell she was smoking marijuana.
"You with some other people?" he said, strolling over toward her.
"Me and Vicky, my girl friend, and Russ and Wally.
"You mean you're just over for the day?"
"No, we've been staying in a place up there for a couple of days," she pointed.
Mike stood hesitantly over her, wondering whether he should continue the grilling or not. Hell, he hated to sound like some kind of square adult, but what if the group had broken into one of the cottages? He'd have to do something about it-at least threaten to chase them off. But if they were up to no good, then why would she be acting so casual and nonchalant? Wouldn't she feel guilty and nervous?
"Whose place are you staying in?" he said redundantly.
"Oh, I don't know who it belongs to exactly. I think some friends of Vicky's parents own it. Why don't you sit down for a minute. I got a couple of more joints. You smoke, don't you?"
The girl had a peculiar, unexplainable innocence about her, Mike thought, as his eyes fixed on the ripe cleavage of her bosom. She was friendly and open and yet exuded a heavy sexuality that was almost hypnotic.
"Sure," he said finally. "I'll have a joint."
Even though he'd smoked grass before, he realized she probably thought he was the square type who never touched it. Christ, here I am not even thirty and already there's a generation gap between me and this kid, he laughed to himself. It was funny the way things worked.
With a smile she handed him a joint, and he sat down cross-legged next to her.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Tara. You know, it's funny. I was just sitting here kind of waiting for someone to come along. I kind of thought something like this would happen."
As she bent close to light his joint, Mike could feel her hand on the inside his thigh. Christ, she was playing the vamp with him, or was it just an innocent gesture? All he knew was that he felt a rush of tingling excitement shooting up his marrow. Damn, this young girl was electric with sensuality.
"It's really nice just sitting here looking off into the water," she whispered. "I like to go off by myself once in awhile. I'm kind of getting tired of Wally and Russ."
"Is one of them your boyfriend?"
"Both are, sort of. I mean I used to ball Wally, but now I ball Russ, too. We kind of play switchies, but I'm getting tired of it, like I said."
Mike practically gaped in amazement at the easy was she was telling him about her sex life, but managed with an effort to maintain his composure. Hell, his own students would probably talk to him the same way if he mingled with them a little more. After all, this was the new generation, the generation that he was supposed to be a part of but really wasn't.
Slowly the marijuana began to take effect so that he found himself staring at Tara without embarrassment. She was a beautiful kid, all right-red silky hair that looked clean and lustrous behind her headband, a smooth complexion and cat-like green eyes that flashed with a penetrating alertness. Jesus, he'd love to fuck her, but if he stayed here much longer, Abby was going to start worrying about him. It seemed like good opportunities always came at the worst possible time.
As though she were reading his thoughts, she turned and flashed a broad inviting smile, placing her hand on his knee and running it up and down the inside of his thigh until he could feel his cock bulging involuntarily against the confines of his pants.
"I get awfully horny when I smoke grass, don't you?" she murmured impishly.
Mike could hardly believe what she was saying. She must he stoned out of her mind, he thought. Or else, he was, and this was happening in his imagination.
He knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, though, when he saw her he back and draw her legs up, spreading them slightly apart. Her hand went down between her thighs and glided up along her velvet-smooth flesh until her fingers began running smoothly over the bulging mound of her vagina.
"Ummmh," she murmured. "I feel like I'm having a beautiful dream." Her eyes flickered shut and her hand caressed her vagina in a tantalizing rhythmic motion that nearly drove him crazy with excitement. His cock thrashed in his, pants, his whole body trembled with excitement, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. God, it was unbelievable, like a fantasy suddenly come true.
She was practically begging him to fuck her, and there he was backing and hesitating, the newspaper headlines dancing around in his mind: "Professor Rapes Teenage Girl." That would make a good story all right, a story good enough to cost him his job at the college and maybe even wreck his marriage. Damn it, though. He'd been playing it safe so long, he was beginning to feel a hundred years old. He couldn't turn this girl down now, even if he wanted to.
He could see that her eyes were open and she was gazing at him, and a moment later he could see her teasingly unbuttoning her shirt, fumbling slowly with the buttons as though she wanted to drive him out of his gourd. Her firm youthful breasts emerged into the sunlight, and she began stroking them with the tips of her fingers, rotating them in tiny circles. Jesus, it was too much! He couldn't stand it any longer.
"I'll help you out," he said, leaning over and running his hand over the flat plane of her smooth belly.
"That's nice," she whispered. "Ummh ... that feels so good."
Gently she took his hand and guided it down to the triangular bulge of her vagina until the warmth and wetness he could feel even through her jeans seemed to transfer itself to his own body and flow through his veins.
Was he stoned already, he wondered? Had he completely lost his mind? Abby was in the cottage waiting for him, would probably expect him back in a matter of minutes. What was he going to do, let himself get involved with this crazy teenage kid?
"Do you think I'm attractive?" Tara said suddenly, unexpectedly, taking him off balance.
"Sure I do; you bet."
"I think you're good-looking too, and I'm really glad you came along. I need somebody new. Would you like to fuck me?"
That did it. Any resistance he had felt was suddenly blown away by her open invitation, and without wasting a second he bent over her and stripped her work shirt down off her arms, pulling off her tight cut-off jeans quickly, until her well-formed torso was naked before him.
"Now wait a minute," she cautioned. "Don't go too fast. I don't want to do it here. Just let me do something else to get it started."
So that's it, he thought. She's just a little cockteaser who's been leading me on, and now when it comes down to the nitty-gritty she's going to back out. She was probably the kind of chick men ended up raping through no fault of their own.
"How old are you?" he asked her suddenly.
"Eighteen. Now, see? I'm old enough to give you anything you want," she said defensively, bringing a smile to his lips. The tables had suddenly turned, and now it seemed that he was the one in control.
"I bet you're not as experienced as you think you are," Mike teased.
"I probably have more experience than you do, and if you keep hassling me with that adult stuff, I may not even give you anything."
"I bet you won't give me anything anyway."
"You know something, you're a pain in the ass. If I wasn't so fed up with Wally and Russ, I'd just tell you to go fuck off."
Mike realized that if he kept this teasing up he might just lose out on everything, and he knew it was time for action now, not talk.
In a split second he'd thrown himself on top of her and was tightly pressing her shoulders down as he locked his lips over hers.
"No, don't" she squealed. "Not so fast."
Grunting, he thrust his tongue hotly between' her teeth to silence her. Hell, he'd show this little bitch not to tease him as though he were some kind of fool.
In truth he had expected her to struggle like a spitfire, but he knew the tiny nips of her teeth against his lips were anything but signs of struggle and when he felt her belly undulating rhythmically against his, he knew for sure he'd misjudged her.
Savagely, he ground his body even harder against hers, crushing the swelling mounds of her breasts against his chest and grinding his lips feverishly against hers, as he thrust his tongue deep into the warm saliva of her mouth. God, it had been so long since he'd enjoyed sex like this. He wanted to feel the whole length of her slender supple body locked against his, and she seemed to share the same urgent need. She-was squirming and straining against him, trying to make contact between their bodies at as many points as possible, and he felt her small warm hand slip beneath his shirt against his bare skin near the base of his spine as she pulled his hips tighter against hers.
She was eagerly sucking his tongue deeper and deeper into her mouth as if she wanted to suck it out by the roots, swirling her own fresh sweet-tasting tongue agilly around his. Suddenly with an incredible strength she wrestled him over and mounted on top of him, her mound screwed snugly against his loins. Even through the layers of their clothes he could feel the heat from her steaming cunt when she started to grind her pussy rhythmically back and forth against the hard muscles of his upper thigh, sending waves of excruciating pleasure through his sex-starved loins as her thinly clad leg rubbed back and forth along the entire length of his aching cock. Christ! He wanted to fuck her so bad his balls felt like they weighed a ton ... but God, how could he fuck her here on the beach right out in the open? Maybe further inland on a bed of soft pine needles.
"Come on, let's get off the beach," he groaned hoarsely, breaking away from her savage embrace. The afternoon sun was filtering through the clouds and the glazed look of aroused passion in her eyes dispeled any lingering thoughts of her being a mere childish cockteaser. She was the real thing, all right ... a woman who wanted and needed desperately to be fucked.
"No, I don't want to do it yet," she said unexpectedly.
"Hey, wait a minute, what are you talking about?" he protested.
Jesus, they were back again to the cockteaser bit. It was obvious she was trying to play games with him. Well, if she thought she could get away with just rubbing her pussy against his cock and then calling it quits, she had another thing coming. He had a good mind to just peel off those shorts of hers and rape her.
He was still on the ground looking up at her when he saw the twinkle in her eyes.
"You still think I'm a tease, don't you? Well, it's not that. Your cock is just driving me crazy. I have to taste it. Come on, take your pants off, then well go up to the cabin."
The frankly lewd hunger in her voice and the way her hands were swarming suddenly around his loins trying to cup his balls through his pants nearly made the college instructor shoot his load before he could get his belt undone. He pushed down his pants and jockey shorts with one motion, and his tortured penis sprang out like a thick bulging rod between his legs. Tara unlaced his shoes, then pulled them off and yanked his pants all the way down, kneeling forward to capture his licentiously pulsing member between the warm soft mounds of her breasts, cupping them in her hands so that they squeezed together around the whole blood-swollen girth of his penis and sliding her full young breasts up and down the entire length of his throbbing cock.
Mike leaned back, his hands digging into the rocky soil, and watched in fascination as this teenage vixen bent like a submissive slave over his twitching rod of flesh, ministering to it as though it were a priceless treasure. Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, she released her breasts and took the base of his cock in one hand, giving his testicles a gentle squeeze with the other and prickling his scrotum a little with her sharp nails. He groaned when he felt her lust-fired breath on his cockhead and her tongue dart out to expertly lick a shiny drop of cum from the tiny gaping slit at the end.
"Ummmh, you taste good," the shameless girl purred greedily. She began to lick the underside of his glans with rapid little swipes of her tongue, curling it around like a cat lapping milk.
"Wait a second," Mike panted. His arms felt like they were about to fall off from the strain of supporting himself, and he moved back a few feet so that his back rested against a rock. He watched avidly as the red-haired teenager followed him and hunched down between his legs once again. Gone from his mind was any thought of fucking her now. He wanted just one thing, to feel her soft lips close around the throbbing head of his cock and suck him and suck him until he shot his boiling cum deep down into her throat. And he knew that was what she wanted now too. He could feel it ... they were locked together in lecherous lust, and no matter what happened they would not be able to stop.
"Go on, suck it, suck!" Mike groaned impatiently, unable to stand any more of her tantalizing moves. Jesus, when his own wife offered to do the same thing, the excitement was nothing in comparison with this. This was extraordinary, a strange fantasy suddenly come true. She was almost mythical, this red-haired teenage girl whom he had known for less than fifteen minutes and who was now giving him the most thrilling sex he'd ever experienced in his life. He waited, his hands reaching up and tangling into her soft reddish hair, pulling her head closer and closer to his loins.
He groaned with relief when he felt' the hot wet contact of her lips around the trembling sensitive flesh of his cockhead.
"Oh God, yes!" He muttered ecstatically.
As though it were alive, like a pulsing snake her tongue began swabbing and swirling around the lust-engorged rim of his eager cock, exploring the whole surface until she began to pump her mouth down, taking more and more of his vein-ribbed shaft inside, moving forward to the base and then back to the trembling tip, pausing for a torturously teasing second before she resumed her rhythmic motion again. Her darting tongue stabbed into the tiny slit, sending a nerve-tingling jolt of pleasure through his body, making his hips twitch and buck up involuntarily toward her face.
God! He'd never had anything like this before, a wild sex-crazed teenage nymph sucking his cock. His balls felt like they were shooting liquid fire through every vein and artery in his system with a deliciously anguished craving that was on the verge of being fulfilled. He reached down and tangled his hands even tighter into her hair to regulate her rhythm, slowing her down a little because she had already ignited the spark down in his loins that was going to finally set off the explosion that would catapult him out of the dreary world of everyday married life and boredom. . "Ooooh!" he moaned. "God yes, keep sucking. You're driving me crazy! Suck it!" He pulled her long red hair off to one side so he could see better the way her full oval lips were pulling lasciviously on the thickly bulging length of his inflamed cock. When she drew back they were pushed into no more than thin lines as she went hungrily down on him, and her full lips expanded and oozed saliva. She took more and more of his cock into her greedy throat in a frenzy of total abandon until there was just a little stretch of glistening white protruding from her mouth and her nose was prodding into his wiry pubic hairs. God, it was too much! She was enjoying it as much as he was, that was the wonderful part about it. He could see her. milk-white breasts madly dancing and swinging as she sensed the charge building in his balls and accelerated the frenzied rhythm of her sucking. She was loving sucking his cock, and he was loving having her suck him. The whole world was just one big soft sucking mouth!
He let his head fall back against the rock and gave himself up totally to the ecstatic sensation of pure sensual bliss now concentrated in his straining cock and balls. It was all there! All there! Up above them, the sun was fading, the clouds were darkening and they were being enveloped by a soft protective mist. But there was nothing in his mind except this one interminable sensation of delight along with the tiny pricks of fire that were speeding crazily through his insides.
"Oh maaaaan, I'm cc-cc-uuuuming!" he moaned, his hips thrusting madly up against her face as he buried the entire length of his cock deep down in her throat. Jesus, it was incredible. He'd never experienced a sensation like this before , ... never in his life! With one last effort he strained his head up to watch her cheeks suddenly ballooning out as the first foaming spurts of his fiery sperm burst into her wildly sucking mouth. Then with a gasp he fell back as charge after charge of steaming cum emptied deep into the teenager's eager throat in hotly jerking blasts. Her licking tongue worked crazily, her Adam's apple bobbing up and down as she emptied his balls with loud slurping noises. Mindlessly she continued sucking with intense concentration until finally he had to push her away.
"Oh God, Tara, that was incredible!" he moaned. It was the only thing he could say.
With one final swipe of her tongue she flicked away the last droplet of cum clinging to the slit of his now-softening cock, her flashing green eyes fixed on him with obscene rapture.
"Wow, you really had a load in your balls," she said appreciatively as she rocked back on her heels and wiped away a trickle of hot sticky liquid from the corners of her lips. "You don't think I'm a tease now, do you?"
"I guess not. I guess I had you figured all wrong."
Tara reached for two more joints from the pocket of her work shirt, lit both of them and handed one to Mike.
"We're not finished yet, you know," she said. "I hope you're not going to get guilty and run back to your wife."
"How did you know I had a wife? I mean how did you know there was someone else here on the island with me?"
At this the girl seemed slightly embarrassed, as though she had said something she was supposed to keep secret.
"Well, I mean, I just assumed it," she said. "You are here with your wife, aren't you?"
Mike let the subject drop. It was curious how she knew, but he wasn't going to pursue the matter. Maybe she'd seen them both coming across the bay in the boat.
Tara crawled up next to him and nestled against his chest, soft and tender now in contrast to the abandoned savagery she'd exhibited only moments ago as she sucked wildly on his cock. As he inhaled on the marijuana cigarette he could feel a cloud of dizziness thickening his mind, making him gradually forget about Abby who was waiting, had been waiting a long time for him to return.
I'm finished now, he thought. There's no way I can resist this teenage kid. She's like some kind of wild sex goddess.
He found himself curling his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close and kissing her lightly on the lips. He could feel the female warmth radiating out from her body.
"That was really nice," she murmured sweetly. "Wally and Russ don't, even bother kissing me anymore when we're finished. I really needed somebody like you to come along. Hey, you know there was a reason I didn't take you up to the cabin right away."
"You mean Wally and Russ?"
"No, they went over to the mainland to get some food. At least I think they did. The real reason is Vicky, my girl friend. She wouldn't let me have you to myself. She'd jump on you right away, I'm sure of it. Will you make me a promise?"
"Sure, whatever you want."
"Promise me you'll ball me first, okay."
"That's a pretty easy promise to keep," he laughed. Christ, the whole scene was really getting surrealistic now. Not only had this one teenage vixen just finished sucking his cock, but she was going to take him back to their cabin where another one was waiting for him. Jesus, it would be incredible.
"Are you sure you'll keep the promise?" Tara said, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "When you see Vicky you might change your mind."
"What do you mean? Is she good-looking?"
"Yeah, she's good-looking sort of, but it's not just that. Guys always seem to fall for her. She's sexy or something. She's got a way about her, and she's always jumping on guys."
"Well, I'll try my best. Come on, let's go up there. I've got to get back to my wife sometime."
Pushing himself up to a standing position, Mike took her hand as she led him into the woods in the direction of the cabin.
"Well, I'll be goddamned," Wally said angrily from behind the clump of bushes where he and Russ had been looking down on the beach. He was a slender youth with long scraggly hair, a mustache, and a beard. His friend Russ was older, clean-shaven and dressed in a hunting jacket.
"She really went after that dude, didn't she?" Russ chuckled.
"You leave her alone for ten minutes and she starts screwin'. I got a good mind to kick the shit outa her. I don't mind her screwin' you, but this guy's some damn straight-arrow, and she fell for him right away."
"Listen old buddy, there's no use blowin' your cool. After all, we got a good reason now to take a look in on that wife o' his."
"Yeah, right, I could use me a nice fresh piece of ass. I'm gettin' sick and tired of Tara and Vicky and all their bullshit."
"Right on, Wally, now you're thinkin' my way. I got a good plan cookin' now. Tara and Vicky are gonna keep this guy busy for a good long time ... long enough for us to go back and pay a visit to that little blonde."
"Yeah, I'll bet she's a horny bitch. Shit, the way she was paradin' around in front of that mirror, I'll bet she's just dyin' for somebody to fuck her."
"Well, she's not gonna be dyin' much longer, right? Come one, let's go."
Silently, they stole away through the woods in the opposite direction from the approaching couple and headed toward the cottage where Abby had been waiting for over an hour for her husband to return.
CHAPTER FOUR
At first she hadn't really been worried, in spite of thinking she saw a man in a hunting jacket looking in her window. She figured that Mike had gone around the island, perhaps searched a bit, and having found nothing had decided to go off down the bay. He often did things like that on impulse and she was used to it, but now more than an hour had passed and he hadn't returned yet.
Several times she'd gone to the beach and searched for the boat without any luck. He was nowhere in sight, and what made matters worse was that there was no telephone service on the island, no way to contact anyone in case of an emergency except to hail a passing boat, and there hadn't been many.
In her anxiety, her mind began to dwell on the worst possibilities. What if he had encountered the man in the hunting jacket and come to harm? It was entirely possible, she thought, that the man had come over to the island to break into one of the houses and that Mike may have caught him in the act. What if her husband were lying somewhere injured? How could she possibly help him? Oh God, she was beginning to regret ever having suggested coming up here. Things weren't turning out right at all. There was nothing she could do, though, except wait perhaps another half-hour and then go out searching. She prayed he had just taken off on a little cruise over the bay. Yes, that must be it, Abby tried to reassure herself, and in an effort to steady her nerves she poured a drink from the bottle of whiskey Mike had brought up with them.
She did not take notice of the presence of two strangers in the cottage until she turned away from the kitchen cupboard where she had just put away the bottle. And when she saw them a horrified gasp broke from her lips.
"Hey, don't worry," the man in the hunting jacket said soothingly. "We're your neighbors.
We just thought we'd stop in and borrow a cup of sugar. Right, Wally?"
The one called Wally smiled and nodded at his friend, and the whiskey glass slipped from Abby's hands and fell on the floor.
"W-who are you?" she stammered, her eyes glazing with fear as they fixed on the intruders.
"I'm Russ and that's Wally. We thought we'd drop in, that's all."
"Well ... at least you could have knocked."
"Your door was open, or did you forget about that?"
The one in the hunting jacket moved forward, brushed past her, and opened the cabinet to retrieve the liquor bottle.
"You don't mind if Wally and I fix ourselves a drink?" he said.
But the terrified blonde could not reply. Instead she backed away slowly as the menacing figure blatantly made himself at home in her own kitchen.
"Listen," Wally piped up. "You don't have to be afraid of us, really."
"W-what happened to my husband?" Abby blurted out finally, unable to contain it any longer.
"Oh don't worry about him either," Russ chuckled. "He's havin' the time of his life now. I bet he ain't had so much fun for years."
"What do you mean? What's happened to him? Where is he?"
Abby's eyes darted from the man in the hunting jacket to the younger one who seemed more sympathetic, but still no answer was forthcoming until Russ took a heavy snort of his drink and then spoke.
"We'll take you to him later, but you got to do us a few favors first. He's okay, and there ain't nothin' gonna happen to him."
Favors? What were they talking about, what did they want? Oh God, she prayed they hadn't done anything to Mike. It seemed as though the vacation she had planned as a blissful dream had suddenly turned into a crushing nightmare. Their deserted paradise had been invaded by these two menacing intruders, and God only knew what they wanted from her.
"Boy, I'll tell you Russ, I sure am hungry," Wally said.
"Me too. I bet the little lady has got a couple of nice juicy steaks for us, don't you."
"Y-yes, they're in the refrigerator," Abby replied, grateful that their minds had turned to something less menacing. She knew they weren't going to be chased away, and if she could delay them somehow, then maybe there would be a possibility of escape. But escape to where? she wondered. She was on an island, Mike had taken the boat. There was nowhere she could go except perhaps out in the woods and hope they wouldn't find her until morning. As Russ hiked up his pants and strolled over to the refrigerator, she felt Wally's hand on her arm.
"Let's go somewhere we can talk," he whispered. "Russ can fix up the steaks himself."
"No, no, that's all right. I'll be glad to do it. I'll make some salad too."
She tried to break away from him, but felt a sudden pressure of his fingers around her arm.
"It's not a good idea to aggravate Russ. He's kind of crazy. If we go somewhere and talk, I can explain things."
Before she was fully aware of what was happening, he had led her from the kitchen into her bedroom and shut the door behind.
"Listen, I want to tell you something right now," Wally said, keeping his voice low. "Comin' over here wasn't my idea, I want you to understand that. Russ was the one that wanted to do it, and I just went along to make sure he didn't do anything crazy."
"What do you mean? What does he want? Why did you two just break in here like this?"
"Hey listen," Wally protested. "I mean we didn't break in. Your door was open, right? And besides, Russ has got a good reason for this."
"Stop talking in riddles," Abby blurted out angrily. "I want to know what's going on."
"All right, I'll tell you. Me and Russ are staying in one of the cabins here with our chicks. We been here about a week minding our own business and everything's fine, and then this afternoon about an hour ago your husband comes along."
"Oh God, there wasn't a fight or anything, was there?" Abby said,. her eyes wide with alarm. She felt relieved as the slender youth simply chuckled.
"Well, I'll tell you somethin'. There could've been, but I managed to get Russ under control. Except he's still pretty steamed up, and I can't say I blame him. You see what happened was your husband came along and balled his girl friend."
"What?" Abby gasped. "What are you talking about? That's impossible."
"It's not impossible because we both saw it with our own eyes. Vicky-that's Russ's chickshe was sittin' down on the beach when your husband came along in his boat. I mean, we didn't see that, but that's the way it must've happened. The only thing we saw was later on when they were both naked on the beach and your husband was screwin' the shit out of Vicky. We just happened to walk onto it, understand, but Russ was plenty mad. He wanted to kill your husband...."
"No, it can't be, you're lying," Abby protested. The whole story was some wild fabrication, a concoction they'd manufactured to justify what they were doing now. How could Mike simply run across a young girl and do something like that?
"Listen now," Wally continued. "You may think I'm lyin', but I'm not. We both saw the two of them there on that beach. And to tell you the truth, Vicky-well, she's kind of crazy herself. She really likes cock and she'll fuck almost anybody. But the problem is, Russ doesn't like that too much. He gets pretty bent out of shape when he sees Vicky ballin' some other dude, if you know what I mean."
"Well, what happened? Tell me please," Abby insisted. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, her head buried in her hands as the ragged-looking youth droned on.
"Like I said I had to hold Russ back, and then I convinced him the best way to even the score was to come on over here and pay you a visit."
Even now the intent of the two intruders did not dawn on Abby. In her confusion she could not fit the entire story together.
"Where is he now? Where is my husband?"
"Like I say, he's over at the cabin, and don't you worry about him. He's probably screwin' both our chicks now."
"You mean he's all right? You haven't done anything to him?"
"Not us. Just our chicks. Hell probably be pretty tired before the night's out."
It was all too incomprehensible to believe. Mike had gone out to check the motor on the boat and now he was supposed to be in another cabin on the island indulging in some kind of strange orgy with two promiscuous young girls. How did they expect her to believe anything like that?
"What is it that you want?" she said finally, her anger overcoming her fear.
Wally squinted at her, as though he couldn't believe he had to explain it. Jesus, he thought, this chick must have a really thick skull. He guessed he'd have to spell it out for her: F-UC-K. Just like that. But no, that wasn't the way to do it. He would just have to be gentle with her until she warmed up, and after all, he knew she had real potential. Anybody who paraded around half-naked in front of a mirror couldn't be any kind of school-librarian prude. He moved closer to her, but at that moment the bedroom door swung open and Russ stepped inside, a big steak fork clutched in his hand.
"Well, I'll be damned. You two look nice and cozy in here!"
He moved inside until he was standing at the edge of the bed and then reached out to cup her jaw in his free hand, turning her face upward.
"I bet you're jealous of that husband of yours, ain't'cha? Him screwin' our chicks and you're sittin' here all by yourself. That ain't fair, is it?"
Abby's eyes flashed with anger, but she managed to control herself with an effort. She knew if she said or did anything rash, then the situation might escalate into something completely beyond control. She could tell just by the look in the older man's eyes that Wally hadn't been lying. He was crazy all right; she was certain of that.
"I'm gonna leave you two alone now and go back in the kitchen. But I don't want no hanky-panky goin' on, understand? This here little blonde is for me. I got a score to settle. Now you just keep your eyes on her, Wally."
With a snear, Russ retreated from the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Wally and Abby alone. The slender youth approached and sat down on the bed next to her, removing two hand-rolled cigarettes from his shirt pocket.
"Here, try one of these. It'll relax you," he sneered. In spite of her predicament, Abby couldn't help resenting the youth's condescending attitude. He was a teenager, but she certainly wasn't over thirty yet and had an idea of what was going on in the youth culture. It annoyed her that he thought she was already over the hill. As he lit her joint, she inhaled expertly, holding the smoke in her lungs until she felt a slight buzz inside her head.
The intoxication was almost immediate. She was confused now, her mind whirling with a mishmash of jumbled thoughts. Her husband was missing, two intruders had just broken into her home, and in spite of her terror she felt a strange" kind of joy creeping into her mind. Could it really be true that her husband, her husband who had neglected her in bed for so long, could actually be fucking two different girls? The bastard, what was wrong with her that he was now suddenly finding satisfaction with other women? Had he been lying to her all along? Had he been with other women even on campus? The bastard! He wasn't bored with sex. He was bored with her. The thought struck her with a powerful force, and her cheeks flushed with anger. Mike was a hypocrite, it was that plain and simple. At the first opportunity he had forsaken her for someone else.
"You know something," Wally said, interrupting her angry thoughts. "You're not bad at all. I kinda like you. Matter of fact, I think I can help you out, but you gotta play along with me. You see, Russ wants to screw you bad to get even with your husband, but he's kinda kinky, you know. I mean, I seen him sometimes just watchin' other people screw. He gets a kick out of it, you know what I mean? So if you just relax and let me do some stuff, maybe Russ'll get his rocks off and you won't have to worry about anything."
Abby gazed over at the youth, her confused mind torn between her conscience and anger at her husband. Somewhere deep down inside she wanted to punish Mike, but how could she be sure these two people were telling the truth? What if they'd just made up the story about her husband and the girl and the truth of the matter was that they had tied Mike up somewhere in the woods? And yet she had to be realistic. She knew the one called Russ was crazy, and if she let Wally do what he wanted with her, maybe Russ would let her alone. She was in a desperate predicament now. There was no way out, no escape. What would she do? If only she knew the right thing!
But quickly enough the choice was taken out of her hands. She could feel Wally's arm circling around behind her, drawing her close to him, and suddenly his lips were pressed hotly against hers.
Oh God, what's going to happen next? She sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, immobilized by her predicament, her mind spinning from the marijuana cigarette she'd smoked. If she played along, if she let them do what they wanted without giving herself, then maybe things would turn out right. The two intruders would be satisfied with their triumph, and leave her alone. Besides, her imagination was running away with images of Mike screwing their two girl friends. Whatever happened to her it would serve him right if what they were saying was true, she thought vindictively.
A weird shiver crept up her spine as the hirsute youth's tongue speared between her teeth and danced wildly inside her mouth. She could feel him shifting his weight so that his hard young body pressed against hers, his cock springing up hard and lurching against her thigh. To her surprise, he didn't seem as foul or dirty as she'd expected, in spite of his dirty clothes. His mouth was clean and fresh, his hair washed and cleaned.
She wondered what their girl friends were like and whether they could do things that would excite her husband the way she'd been unable to do recently. She could see them wearing strange clothes and jewelry, stripping them off as Mike watched excitedly. She could see the two girls caressing his body all over, running their fingers over his chest and squeezing his balls as he lay on the mattress of their bedroom.
God, what was happening to her? She must be going crazy. It was the marijuana making her head spin, making her lose contact with reality. As though in a dream, she felt herself being pushed flat against the mattress, the young teenager mounting his body on top of hers. His searching tongue was spearing rhythmically inside her throat now, dancing and twirling around her own tongue as he sucked hungrily at the juices of her mouth. As his saliva mixed with hers and his frank healthy odor communicated itself to her defenseless body, she felt her resistance beginning to break. God, she wondered, had she really wanted something like this all along ... the freedom to be fucked by total strangers?
Wally moved his body still further on top of the blonde so that the thick hard length of his aching cock was pressed in between her naked thighs, her skirt rolled up against her belly. He knew godamn well she couldn't help but feel the hardness of his pulsing cock through the thin cloth of his pants, and when she didn't try to push him off, he knew the battle was won.
Christ, that goddamn Russ was a genius. He'd figured out all along how the scene would work. They'd rehearsed their act. Russ would play the tough, threatening guy, and he would be the gentle comforter who'd win the frightened woman over. It was working like a charm now!
He remembered how terrified the blonde woman had looked when Russ came in the bedroom with the steak fork in his hand. What an actor! He had to admit that Russ really knew a lot about people and how to handle them. The blonde wasn't even giving him a fight now, and once he got her worked up, she was going to enjoy herself, he was sure of it.
His excitement mounting, he pressed his loins even tighter against hers and began swabbing his tongue deep into her unresisting mouth, his hand moving up to cup one of her still-unrevealed breasts. He could feel the softness of her blouse and her brassiere beneath the palm of his hand and could even feel her tightly con fined nipple swelling slightly. Goddamn, she really had a pair of tits, and he'd be damned if he was going to waste his time pussyfooting around.
As he began unbuttoning her blouse, he realized he was getting sick and tired of Tara and Vicky. What he wanted was an older woman like this, somebody just a little uptight that you had to work on for a while before you got any kind of response. She was acting like a dead fish now, but he knew that once he got her clothes off she would start to loosen up, and within half an hour he'd bet she would be going crazy on him.
Hell, Russ and he had been playing swifchies for months, but even Vicky couldn't please him now. They had all gotten tired of each other and all of them needed new excitement-just the kind they were going to get tonight. Damn, she was a new piece of ass, just like an oasis in the desert. And she was really built, too. He couldn't wait to start fucking her, even though he knew he had to go slow and easy for fear of getting her so upset that she would completely turn off. He was worried now that maybe Russ had come on just a little bit too strong. Sure, she wasn't a helpless little virgin, but after all she was upset about her husband, and the fact that two strangers had broken into the place was enough to tie her up in knots. Now he had to loosen those knots.
Carefully he pulled the supple fabric of her blouse down over her shoulders and slipped her , brassiere straps down, watching as she lay perfectly still, her eyes locked tightly shut.
"Hey come on, just relax," he chided her. "When Russ sees us goin' at it, he's gonna get so excited hell cum in his pants, and then you won't have nothin' to worry about."
He raised her up slightly off the mattress and unhooked her brassiere straps, peeling the lacy garment away so that her ripely mature breasts burst forth to his eager sight. Her nipples were stiff and pointed, rising invitingly up in the air as though begging to be sucked.
Slowly he bent down and closed his greedy lips around her full breast, bringing an involuntary sigh from her lips. She squirmed beneath him, her skirt riding even higher on her hips, exposing the warm whiteness of her smooth thighs.
God, I'm enjoying this, she thought. Months, even years of steadily increasing neglect had built up a residue of frustration that was only now beginning to be cured. But why, why couldn't it be her own husband who was doing this to her? In spite of her resolve not to respond to the forced .caresses the intruder was inflicting on her, Abby felt her mind beginning to drift away in a dizzying fog, her intellectual powers being supplanted by the tiny ripples of sensual delight flowing through her body. It wasn't as if she were being unfaithful by letting this young stranger fondle and kiss her breasts-there was hardly any choice in the matter, and besides, Mike probably hadn't given a second thought about the girl he screwed on the beach.
She was completely helpless; there was no way to resist even if he suddenly became violent and forced her legs apart or ripped her skirt away. They could even take turns with her, she realized, and it would only be a variation on the daydream fantasy she had indulged in that night last week when she was forced to masturbate.
With her eyes closed she could envision herself helplessly spread-eagled on the bed, pinioned under the young boy's weight as he cruelly ravished her. That response must have been something left over in her psyche from prehistoric times, she mused, when human beings mated like animals and the males took females by force ... and thousands of years of barbaric wars when the savage conquering hordes raped-and enslaved the women of the defeated.
Abby gave her head a little shake as though to try to bring herself back to reality. Sooner or later she knew Wally would want to go on to other things, and she knew she would be helpless to resist him. She could feel the thickness of his rigid young penis pressing against her naked thigh through his pants. If only she could bring herself to push him away ... but she was beyond that point already. Her only real fear was of Russ, who might do anything, even inflict violence on her. She prayed that Wally was right about him, that he would become harmless once he saw someone else engaged in the sex act.
God, Russ is repulsive, she thought. She would have to fight and resist him, but for the moment she found herself guiltily enjoying Wally's skillful sucking of her breast. It's your fault, Mike, she screamed inwardly. If you'd paid more attention to me, I wouldn't be in this position now.
Involuntarily her hands reached up and tangled in the boy's long lustrous hair, but now he was moving away from her, sliding down her body until his head was just above her crotch.
"Oh God, what are you doing?" she whispered hoarsely. "If Russ walks in and sees me sucking your pussy, he'll shoot his wad. He doesn't like to do it himself, but he loves to watch it."
The obscene words sent a shiver of excitement crawling over her flesh and her legs trembled involuntarily. God, he was going to put his mouth against her cunt, he was going to suck her. Mike hadn't done that for years, and even though she knew it would be wrong to let this intruder do it to her, she could not help feeling overwhelmed by the delightful prospect. Instinctively, her hands clutched even tighter at his hair.
"Okay, you're gonna have to put on a good show now. I hear Russ coming."
The bedroom door swung open and Abby could see the older man grinning down at her with a lewd expression on his face. A strange feeling of mingled terror and excitement seized her. Not only was her pussy going to be sucked, someone else would be watching the act. It was a prospect that made her feel even more crazily aroused.
Abby could feel the boy's fingers gripping her skirt and panties and yanking them down over her hips in one single motion. He fumbled with the zipper, undid it, and in a second she was completely naked on the bed, her legs spread slightly apart, her arms stretched out and up, and her stiff-nippled breasts heaving as she took deep rhythmical breaths. Oh God, she couldn't believe what was happening.
She watched in a semi-daze as he stripped off his own clothes hurriedly and then knelt on his haunches, gripping her ankles and spreading her legs wider apart. Her eyes flashed over to Russ who was standing by the side of the bed now, taking in the scene with festive delight, an insane smile playing over his lips. A moment of panic stabbed at her, but she quickly regained control by envisioning her. husband with the two girls in the other cabin. He was in a similar position, she realized, but probably enjoying every split second of it, with no fear that the girls might suddenly turn and inflict violence on him. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she just relax and let what was going to happen happen? What harm could come to her if they merely wanted sex. After all, sex had never killed anyone.
As she tried to rationalize her position, Wally's fingers were caressing her thighs and fondling her defenseless pussy, his fingers parting the trembling lips of her cunt as one out-thrust finger slipped in between the moistly heated petals of pink flesh, slowly insinuating itself deeper and deeper.
The sudden, tingling, electric thrill that flushed her entire body with tiny goose bumps as his obscenely probing finger touched her clitoris triggered an alarm in Abby's brain.
"Awwww," she moaned. "No-no, you better not."
"What the hell you mean he better not," Russ bellowed down, glaring at her. "You ain't got no choice. You want me to take over for him? I'll show you somethin'."
"N-no, don't ... it's all right," she squirmed submissively. And as she did so the finger between her pussy lips brushed against her clitoris again, making a deep savage desire blossom momentarily inside her belly. God, she could hardly control herself, and yet she had to. If she showed she was enjoying this, it might spur them on to God knows what.
"Just play it nice and easy," the youth whispered down at her as he continued his skillful ministrations. "Don't worry about Russ, he just likes to talk."
She hoped Wally was right, but her assurance was broken when she looked up once again and saw the older man undoing his zipper, reaching into his shorts and withdrawing his cock. It looked like a massive blue-veined bludgeon capable of ramming through her pussy all the way up to her throat. Jutting out from tufts of why black pubic hair around the dark-skinned bulging shaft, its immense purplish head was gleaming with moisture, the slit at the end dilated lewdly, as though it were going to spit its semen at her any minute.
Flat on the bed, she watched in horror as Russ began to stroke the heavy foreskin obscenely back and forth around the bloated head of his turgid member, leering suggestively down at her all the time. Suddenly he bent his knees, lowering himself slightly so that his threatening cock was only inches away from her face.
"How would you like to suck this, baby?" he growled.
"N-no, I don't. I can't...." she protested, genuine fear clouding her eyes this time. God, it was huge, she'd never seen anything like it. If she let him put that thing inside her it might kill her.
"Please, Wally," she whispered desperately to the boy. "Do something, anything. Make him go away."
It was no longer a joke; all the excuses she had tried to use to make herself accept the situation seemed to evaporate in the wind. This was real. Russ was a monster with a cock that did not even look like anything human.
"I can see you never saw a real cock," Russ spat derisively, backing away from the bed. "Well, you'll get your turn at it next. Now suppose you just spread your legs and let my buddy here get you nice and warmed up for me."
Obediently, Abby did as she was told, spreading her legs as wide apart as they could go, preparing herself for the orgy of tonguefucking she knew was going to take place. Desperately she wished that Mike would come back and save her. She knew she would never be able to take Russ's unnaturally huge organ inside her.
Her full breasts heaved as she took deep gasping breaths and watched, wide-eyed, as Wally positioned himself eagerly between her cream-white legs, a greedy smile playing over his lips. His tongue flicked out lizard-like over his lower hp, and suddenly his two hands stabbed out and pulled apart the sparse-haired flanges of her cunt so that the moist petal-pink flesh of her vaginal slit was nakedly exposed to his lewd stare. After a lengthy inspection he gave a little grunt and flicked her clitoris teasingly with his thumbnail, causing her pelvis to buck and quiver spasmodically from the jolting pain.
"She looks a little dry to me," Russ called down at his partner. "Maybe you oughta swirl your tongue around in there a little."
As she lay helplessly motionless, Abby felt Wally's hand begin its sly, insidious work between her obscenely parted legs. He was methodically rubbing her clitoris now and tentatively probing the tight little opening of her vagina with his extended middle finger, but the only sensation she felt so far was one of irritating friction.
He bent forward and whispered in her ear. .
"Listen, you gotta let me suck your pussy. Just play along with it, and Russ'll jerk off. Once he does that he'll be okay."
"I don't have much choice, do I? Just hurry up please."
"That's the way. Don't you worry, everything's gonna be all right. We'll take you to your husband."
Abby looked up at him with glazed eyes, praying that he wasn't lying, that no harm had come to Mike. God, she could hardly believe what was going to happen, that in a moment his tongue would be thrusting up inside her pussy while Russ looked on, lasciviously stroking his huge, bulging cock. For a second, the fleeting idea that the two intruders were playing some sort of horrible game with her flitted through her mind, but she wasn't about to call their bluff, since it was entirely possible they were both dangerously unstable. Where had they come from and what were they doing on this island?
The younger one looked almost like one of the students at the college, but there was something hard and crude about him. He had grown up on the streets, not in a middle-class home, and she had never been confronted by people like that before.
Once again he resumed his crouching position between her defenseless thighs as Russ looked on, his hands resting on his hips, that monstrous cock of his jutting out menacingly toward her helpless body. God, why didn't Wally get started? Why was he teasing her like this? She felt helpless and naked on the bed, and yet a wild perverse excitement was already pulsing through her veins.
"Okay, are you ready?" the long-haired youth asked, looking up at her, his hands poised on the scalloped lips of her vagina. "You're gonna have to pretend you like it or else Russ ain't gonna get his rocks off."
"Yes, go on, please stop torturing me like this!" she pleaded, her hands gripping the corners of the mattress.
Oh God, when would he get started with it ... Each second he delayed was making her feel crazier and crazier, as though she really wanted him to do this thing, as though he wasn't forcing her and her life wasn't endangered.
"Go on, beg him!" Russ suddenly growled. "Beg him to suck your cunt."
They were going to humiliate her. It wasn't enough that they were going to do strange perverse things to her. They wanted to see her grovel as well. This Russ was sick and dangerous, and she knew she'd have to do anything he commanded.
"All right, I'm begging," she sighed resignedly as Russ moved back to the edge of the bed again.
"Not like that, baby. Put some soul in it. Tell Wally you want his tongue up inside that warm juicy cunt."
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of the lecherous stranger hovering over her, and finally the words came.
"Suck my cunt, Wally. Go on. For God's sake stop delaying it!"
"That's better," Russ sneered. "That's what I like to hear. Now start wiggling your ass around, and this time I want you to scream it."
There was no choice. Her eyes fixed on the massive cock jutting out from Russ's pants and, as she watched it jerking spasmodically, she knew he was getting more and more excited. She prayed he wouldn't be so excited that he would push the boy aside. Compliantly she began to grind her buttocks against the mattress as Wally remained poised between her thighs, his hot breath fanning her exposed cuntal lips.
"Suck me, Wally, oh God, suck my cunt!" she said louder, finding her own excitement growing with the power of the words.
"Louder!" Russ screamed.
"STICK YOUR TONGUE IN MY CUNT! SUCK IT, SUCK IT!" she chanted now, her hands clawing at the bedsheets. She felt an involuntary trickle of moisture discharging from her cunt, her heart beginning to rapidly palpitate.
As Wally gazed down greedily at Abby's voluptuously shaped body and the luscious feast of pink cuntal flesh, he was thinking what a genius Russ was. He had scared the shit out of her and at the same time gotten her excited. She was playing right into their hands.
He knew she would turn into a screaming banshee in a matter of minutes, and once her resistance broke down completely she was going to enjoy herself like crazy. Christ, she wasn't just some uptight middle-class virgin, but a married woman who probably hadn't gotten enough cock from her husband in years. Hell, he was going to give her a tonguing and a fucking like she'd never had before, and she was going to respond to it like a wild animal.
Very gently, he spread apart her soft blonde pubic hair with his thumbs, dropping his mouth down to the defenseless "vee" of her quivering loins, and began licking the fluted pink edges of her cunt lips before sinking his tongue deeper into the moist, sweet-tasting slit.
When Wally's beard brushed the tender sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, Abby felt what seemed like thousands of tiny pinpricks of prurient itching begin to tingle and flow through her pelvic region. And then his tongue! Softly and moistly licking every inch of her hair-lined cuntal opening as though it were an ice-cream cone. She wondered just how she could have descended to the level where she was actually enjoying this in spite of her fear and terror. A total stranger was lapping at her pussy like a hungry dog, and wild thrills were flowing through every pore of her body! What had she come to? How could she betray her husband like this?
At the first searing shock of contact between his swabbing tongue and her defenseless clitoral button, Abby's buttocks jerked convulsively down into the mattress trying to escape the maddening attack on her secret parts. But there was no escape. His hot sweating palms held her thighs firmly spread and pinioned while his lips fastened, fish-like, on her viscous little pleasure-bud to suck it voraciously, as if he wanted to swallow it whole. His tongue somehow found a hypersensitive little fold of flesh that she never knew existed, and unnervingly he began to flail it, sending jolt after jolt of weird galvanic energy racing through her loins like electric sparks jumping from one terminal to another ... except that there were thousands of terminals all in motion at once.
Against her will her pelvis began to jerk and then slowly grind upward against his mouth as if it was a motor and his tongue was the switch that threw on the current.
"Aggggh-God-oohh!" she gasped, unable to resist the pleasure it was bringing. Her head was up off the mattress as she watched in disbelief how her body was betraying her. She must be going insane. Those couldn't be her hips writhing uncontrollably under the obscene assault of this boy's slavering tongue. They couldn't be! She felt like someone not quite delirious whose body is whipped and tossed by a raging fever while the mind still remains clear. With a groan she flopped back on the bed, her thighs jerking spasmodically as the thick liquid tongue mined the richness of her pussy. If only Mike hadn't neglected her for so long, she would never be reduced to this humiliation of enjoying her obscene rape. The boy was crouched like an animal, lewd wet sucking noises coming from his mouth in contact with the hot trembling lips of her pussy. She closed her eyes, her mind fantasizing what her husband was doing at this moment. She could see a naked teenage girl down on her knees, sucking his cock while another one was seductively undressing, preparing for her turn with him. She could see them moments later, the second girl squatting over his face as she eagerly ground her cunt down on his slavering tongue. Her head was ready to explode now from her overwrought state of bestial carnality.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned, her head flailing from side to side as the boy's relentless tongue thrust deep up inside her cuntal chamber and frenziedly swirled around. She knew the moment of total surrender had arrived, she couldn't even pretend to resist any longer. In sudden abandon her hands reached out and tangled fiercely in Wally's hair, pulling his face tighter against her grinding loins. God, she wanted him deeper, his tongue buried in the depths of her belly.
From his vantage point, Russ could see the rapid change in her movements, confirming his belief that she would be an easy mark all along. He could see her head flailing back and forth, her buttocks twitching and jerking up against Wally's face, and he could hear the soft uncontrollable moans of pleasure that were pouring mindlessly from her lips. Hell, Wally was really getting her prepared for him. When he was finished she would be loose and wet enough to swallow his man-sized cock in that hungry pussy of hers. As his excitement mounted, he dropped his trousers and stepped out of his jockey shorts, his mammoth penis springing out rigidly between his legs, the blood-filled head mushrooming out like a thick bludgeon. Damn, he was going to show this cunt a thing or two!
One look at her from outside the window early in the afternoon had told him what she was all about. The way she was parading around in front of the mirror was a sure sign that she was horny, that she'd wanted her husband to screw her, but he'd gone off on his boat and discovered Tara, so obviously he hadn't completed the task. Two is better than one anyway, he thought as he began stroking the heavy foreskin up and down the length of his lust-swollen penis.
In his mind he could already see her sucking his cock, her head bobbing back and forth as he sawed into her throat with enormous rhythmic strokes, making her face grow red and her cheeks puff out as she struggled to keep to keep her grip on it. But that was later. Now he was just going to enjoy watching Wally getting her warmed up with his tongue buried in her pussy.
The bearded youth was swirling his tongue around her hot little clitoris now, pumping it up in the oozing channel of her pussy. Grab that baby, he thought as he felt the rhythm of her cock-hungry cuntal contractions accelerate around his tongue. Man, she was fired up and ready to bomb off the line, but what the fuck, there was no hurry, and so he continued to tool her easy for awhile, letting her find her own natural rhythm which was still a little jerky and uneven as though she were testing out a whole new set of rockers down there. Yeah, it must be a brand-new trip for her, he thought, getting tongue-fucked. Hell, that husband of hers had probably forgotten how to do it, if he'd even known in the first place.
In a way, it was almost like taking a virgin, except that she had plenty of experience and obviously enjoyed what was happening to her. He wasn't about to hurry her along as much as he wanted to get plugged into her socket ... Christ, she was really creaming now. He could taste those sweet pussy juices filtering down, filling his mouth and wetting his cheeks as she screwed her pelvis against his face. Then her hands were tugging at his hair, and he looked up at her through the heaving valley between her voluptuously curved breasts. Her head was off the mattress again and she was staring down at him with passion-glazed eyes, her face all fever-red and her mouth twisted. Christ, he hardly recognized her. She looked like she was just about out of her fucking tree, the way she was writhing and twisting all over the bed.
"T-t-ake," Abby moaned without being able to articulate what she wanted.
"Oh yeah, you want it now, don't you? You want my cock in your pussy, don't you?"
The mild-mannered youth, her protector, was gone now, she suddenly realized. He too had turned into a vicious, menacing animal just like Russ. His face was contorted with a greedy lust, his lips bared back over his teeth like an angry wolf. Oh God, what were they going to do to her? She prayed there wouldn't be any violence.
"Please, do it easy," she begged.
"Don't give me that prude shit, you bitch," he snarled. "You love it, baby, and I'm gonna sink my cock in so deep it comes out your throat."
"You tell her, Wally," Russ chuckled as he rubbed the menacing spear of his cock above her. He could tell their little party was starting to get good now.
Suddenly the reality of what was happening hit Abby with its full force. She was being raped I A measure of her resistance returned, and she tried to scissor her legs shut as her body went rigid. This sudden turnabout was too much for Wally. Christ, she wasn't going to cop out now, not after all that effort he'd put into tongue-fucking her.
"'Spread you legs and put it in!" he growled.
It was an order, there was no doubt about it, Abby saw as she looked up into his scowling face. His good nature was gone now ... replaced by an angry, frustrated, male animal lust that could only grow more ugly and maybe even violent. It was her own fault, she told herself, for giving in to the tonguing of her clitoris. Her own frustrations had allowed her to welcome it, even though she had made a feeble show of resistance in the beginning. Now she was paying for her complicity in her own rape. God, she wished she could cut herself off at the waist and do away with her genitals.
"Put it in," he snarled. "Grab my cock and put it in that sweet little pussy of yours."
For emphasis he rammed the throbbing head of his penis roughly against her cunt lips, and she felt them involuntarily twitching in response.
"No, I won't, I can't," she shot back stubbornly.
She resolved she wasn't going to help him now. He had tricked her ... they were both the same, these two men-set on abusing and degrading her. If only they had treated her more gently, then perhaps she would have given in, even willingly. But now there was no way she would be forced to cooperate with them.
"All right, you bitch," Wally snarled, grabbing her hair with a savage yank and forcing one hand down between their slippery bodies to guide his thickly burgeoning shaft into the steaming fleshy folds of her cunt. There was no concealing his anger at the way she had led him on and now unexpectedly turned against him. Who the hell did she think she was fooling anyway, suddenly turning into a goddamn vestal virgin? She wanted to get fucked, they both knew it, so why was she playing games all of a sudden?
Christ, she sure as hell wasn't like any chick he'd ever known-one minute lying there moaning with pleasure as he speared his tongue up her cunt, the next minute suddenly closing her legs and refusing to give out anything like some land of convent girl. Christ, he'd show her. That sympathy bit he'd pulled earlier was all over now. Now he was going to take charge and get his rocks off, because that was the only thing that counted. He knew damn well if he diddled around any longer, Russ might just jump in and push him off.
With a grunt, Wally increased the pressure of his spongy cockhead against the tight elastic opening of her cunt, feeling her tense and cringe underneath him. She was holding her breath, the dumb cunt. She couldn't wait to get hurt.
He lunged forward between her legs.
"Awwwwwgh! No!" Abby screamed, trying to twist out from under him. But it was no use as his throbbing cock burst painfully through her already moistened cuntal slit and plowed upward, pushing the moistly heated flesh of her vagina ahead of it like a bulldozer pulverizing a path through a virgin forest.
"Unnnnnggghh!" she groaned when his gouging penis finally came to a halt lodged against her tender cushiony cervix, and she lay there under his brute weight, locked pelvis to pelvis with him, his thickly prodding cock embedded up to the hilt deep in her quivering belly, filling her as she had never been filled before. There wasn't one tiny ridge on its entire blood-filled length that she couldn't feel with the sensitive flesh of her cunt, as if she had suddenly been turned into a glove of living tissue for his fist-like cock. He had smashed the last barrier of her defenses and hurled his savage spear deep up into her helplessly pinioned body, and now she lay here beneath him, totally subjugated, a faint barbaric drumbeat beginning in her ears as the thudding rhythm of their blood soaring in their two intertwined bodies slowly harmonized....
Wally lay still for a moment glaring down at his skewered captive, his face directly over hers.
"You're not scared anymore, are ya? You like that cock of mine throbbin' around inside." He jolted his cock even deeper and ground down harder on the fleshy cushion of her pubic mound, wringing another little mewl of pain from her lips. "You wanna be hurt? You want me to hurt you?" he demanded cruelly.
When she didn't answer, he drew his lust-crazed cock all the way out of her sheathing cunt to the tip and then brutally slammed it home again, knocking the breath out of her.
"Uggggh, it hurts," she protested, writhing in pain.
"Answer me, damn it. You want me to hurt you, don't you?"
Still she said nothing, lying transfixed beneath him, but now her blue eyes were wide open, locked on his face with a strange expression he had never seen before and couldn't understand. Once again he pulled out nearly all the way, flexed his hips and drove cruelly back in. This time she didn't even whimper or bat an eyelash. It was like fucking a corpse!
"You want me to hurt you, you gotta beg," he grunted hoarsely. "Beg me!"
She shook her head.
"All right, fuck you, you dumb bitch," he yelled in sudden fury, pulling his cock all the way out of her and leaping to his feet astride her prostrate body. She wigged him out, this cunt did. He grabbed his overcharged cock and with a few quick jerks of his hand brought himself off, spewing spurt after spurt of white-hot cum all over her motionless body, her stomach, breasts, neck and face. A couple of sticky drops spattered on her lips and dribbled down in thick, viscous trails. Abby lay perfectly still, as though paralyzed, humiliated by the degrading act that was taking place. She watched as he pumped his jerking cock savagely a couple more times and the last drop of sperm dangled down in a long thread toward her naked cunt where the whole load should have gone. Damn, Wally thought. It was the most despressingly unsatisfactory orgasm he'd ever had in all his nineteen years. Christ, he'd fucked more active broads at the age of fourteen. What made it worse was the promise she'd shown in the beginning. It looked like she was really going to go wild, but she'd just turned a switch somewhere in her body and sealed herself completely off. What a bitch!
"Christ," he muttered bitterly to Russ. "I can't take any more of this shit! She's all yours, man!"
"Don't worry, Wally, we ain't finished yet. Once I sink my cock down her throat, she'll be ready for anything."
Abby cowered on the bed, paralyzed by fear as the older man approached her. She realized now that she had made a mistake. If only she'd given in and let Wally fuck her, Russ might very well have allowed himself to be carried away. But it had turned out exactly the opposite of what she'd expected. Instead, it was Wally who had suddenly blown his mind and spewed his sperm all over her in such a degrading manner, while the older one had controlled himself and was now ready to finish the job the boy hadn't completed. Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?
If she could only run now, escape and somehow find Mike, but no! She was trapped. She knew that Wally would never let her get past him, that he had been lying all along about not wanting to participate in this foul venture with his friend. As for Russ, she'd known he was sick from the beginning, and now he was moving onto the bed toward her. Why, why had she let herself get so carried away in the beginning? This was worse that a nightmare now.
Her eyes bulged wide as they fixed on Russ's friction-flamed cock that sprang out between his legs like a menacing spear. It must have been nearly a foot long, longer than anything she'd ever seen before, and she realized now that he was dead serious about making her suck it. Instinctively, she backed away until she found herself in a corner with no exit, no escape, wishing desperately that she could somehow spring from the mattress to freedom.
"Oh God, no. Please don't," she begged as he moved toward her on his knees, his teeth bared back over his lips, a cruelly sadistic smile playing over his face.
"Too late now, baby," he purred. "This is the real thing. Wally was just warmin' you up. You think you're ready to take it?"
"I'll do anything, please! I swear. Don't make me suck it."
Russ laughed outwardly at the sudden paralyzed fear he sensed in her. What in the hell was she trying to pull? He'd seen how she had worked herself up with Wally, how she'd been enjoying the way he was sucking her cunt. But now the tables suddenly turned. She had to give something and wasn't about to do it. She was willing to cooperate as long as she was getting, but not when it came to giving. But he'd see that she didn't back out. She was going-to give this time, all right. She was going to give him a full-scale blow-job and suck his cock until he spewed every ounce of sperm he could muster down her throat.
"Get down on your hands and knees," he growled. "You're gonna suck me, and you're not gonna get out of it. You wanna see your husband alive, don't ya?"
The brutality of his words finally hit her with the totality of their force.
"Where is he?" she shouted, her eyes blazing.
Russ responded with a swift backhand across her face, sending her sprawling on the mattress.
"Stop givin' me a hard time, you bitch. I told you where he was-fuckin' our women. And that ain't no lie. But if you don't start wising up, we may just take care of him. I killed enough people in Vietnam and a few more don't matter, you get me?"
Abby remained perfectly silent now, realizing the gravity of the situation. It had been bad enough all along, but now the blonde-haired housewife knew they were both dead serious and capable of carrying out anything they talked about.
Like a submissive animal, she assumed the position demanded of her, sinking down to her knees, and supporting herself with her arms out to either side. There was no use resisting. She was going to be fucked in the mouth by a brutal stranger, but at least now she knew she was doing if to save her husband. There was no other way out.
"That's it Russ. Sock it to her, man!" Wally called from his position on the floor, where he had just lit a joint. "I want to see that blonde bitch choke on your cock."
"Comin' up," Russ groaned. "Open that sweet little mouth of yours, baby."
CHAPTER FIVE
Mike, with two marijuana cigarettes under his belt, wasn't really sure he knew where he was or what he was doing as Tara led him through the woods toward the cabin at the north end of the island. He knew another girl would be there and that they had originally been with their two boyfriends, but it didn't really matter. He was stoned out of his mind--stoned on two joints. The feeling running through his head was that he was on an adventure over which he had no control.
As Tara pushed the door open he could see that the cottage was even larger than the one belonging to Abby's parents. In the bedroom, which was just off the living room, there were two enormous beds which had been pushed together to create a massive expanse of mattress. And on the bed leaning against a bundle of pillows was a lithe black-haired girl, naked from the waist up and clad only in panties and a long print skirt. She had been reading a book when they entered and suddenly looked up.
"Ummmh, you've been out hunting," she said, an obscene smile flickering across her lips. "I see you've found us some cock."
This was Vicky, Mike realized. Jesus, she didn't mince words. There was no bullshit about "Come and I'll get you a sandwich or fix you a drink." She obviously spoke exactly what was on her mind. And not only that, she did what was on her mind too. For as Mike hovered in the bedroom doorway with Tara, he could see her hiking her long skirt up over her legs and spreading them wide as she thrust her hand inside and began massaging her pussy.
"Why don't we get something to eat," Tara said, giving a tug on his hand. She'd obviously stumbled into the bedroom without knowing Vicky was there.
"That's a good idea," came Vicky's voice. "Why don't you get something to eat, while your friend and I get to know each other." Mike's eyes were fixed on her, and he felt paralyzed. Jesus, what had he walked into? This girl Vicky was even more incredible than Tara had led him to believe, so incredible that he could hardly remember the promise he'd made to the younger girl.
"Run along, Tara," Vicky said. "You can't monopolize our friend. I'm sure you sucked him off already, knowing the way you enjoy sinking your teeth into men's cocks."
Tara looked up at Mike, searching for a response, and when she saw that his eyes were concentrated on Vicky, she sighed and retreated into the kitchen,' leaving the two of them alone together.
The amazed college instructor was incredulous at what he saw, for not only had the girl lifted her skirt up and thrust her hand between her legs-she was now reaching for a candle on the table by the bed. God, he wondered, was she really going to use that some kind of replacement for a male cock?
There was a mysterious smile on her face as she adjusted herself on the bed, slipping out of her panties with one hand and fondling the candle with the other.
"Jesus," Mike whispered. She was doing this to tease him, to turn him on. Never again would he experience a day like this-two sex crazed girls who had no moral inhibitions whatsoever. It was too strange to be true.
With a little groan, the dark-haired girl took the candle and began slowly inserting it into her glistening cuntal slit, her mouth slightly parted, her tongue tracing sensual circles over her lips.
"I'm just getting ready for you," she murmured. "I'm sure you must have a huge cock. Otherwise Tara would never have picked you up.
Guiltily Mike glanced around but saw that the redhead was still out of sight in the kitchen somewhere. He knew he'd made a promise to her, but in the state he was in now, he also knew it would be impossible to keep. Tara had been absolutely right. This Vicky really did have something. She was no beauty, but she was sensual as hell. Jesus, his cock was lurching in his pants already, inspired by the salacious spectacle she was making of herself on the bed. She was gliding the candle slowly in and out of her pussy, moaning in a low-throated voice, mesmerizing him with her actions. On the outstroke he could see the juicy lips of her cunt clinging to the yellow shaft hungrily like a sucking mouth, and when she plunged it back in she gave a little groan of satisfaction. From time to time she took a drag on a tightly rolled cigarette which she held in her other hand without ever losing the rhythm of the candle thrusting up in between her legs.
Mike felt his cock give another lurch and begin to swell again as he stood there watching her shamelessly masturbate to climax. God, she was too much. He could see she was really getting hot now because her pelvis was beginning to snap sharply forward oh the in-stroke so that almost the entire thickness of the candle vanished up between her legs, and she gave a little grunt as her hand banged into her moistly pink cuntal crevice. Then she drew the wetly glistening candle out more slowly so that she could ram it harder on the next beat.
Without his realizing what was happening, Tara was back in the room again standing behind him and curling her hand around to his zipper, slowly drawing it down. He could feel her firm young breasts pressing into his shoulder blades as her cool dry hand closed around his hardening member and began to slide the foreskin back and forth along the shaft in the same wild rhythm as the other girl candle-fucking herself. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from the lewd spectacle on the bed as Tara came around in front of him. She was grinning up at him, purposely standing in his way to block his view of the bed, as though she were now competing with the other girl. God, she was a real knockout, he thought-much prettier than Vicky, who looked like some kind of weird witch. And yet he had to admit that Vicky's abandoned sensuality had already mesmerized him. She was so savagely erotic that in his fantasy she had already taken possession of his cock.
"You're not fair at all," Vicky called to Tara from the bed. "You've already sucked him off and here I am jamming this candle up my pussy."
The dark-haired girl was calmly looking at them with an amused smile on her face, as though she were completely sure of her powers and knew that she could win the visitor over with any struggle. She had stopped masturbating now, but her legs were still wantonly splayed and he could see the white butt of the candle protruding from her lewdly revealed cunt.
"Come on, don't you want to play with me?" she cooed. "I want to see how big your cock is. It must be bigger than this candle. You want to fuck little Vicky, don't you?"
Even though Tara's hand was still on his cock and her soft young face only inches away from his, Mike felt himself being drawn toward the bed as though by some powerful magnetic force. He left Tara and moved toward Vicky with his thickly distended penis jutting out of his fly in front of him like some enormous phallic antenna.
"Ummmh, it looks nice and thick," the dark-aired girl purred appreciatively. Reaching out a slender white hand to cup the heavy blood-engorged head of the college instructor's penis, she gave the tip a sharp little pinch which sent a lightning flash of mixed pleasure and pain tingling through every nerve-end in his body. Jesus, she really knew where to touch a man. He was willing to bet she'd already learned more ways of giving and taking pleasure than most woman had in a lifetime. There was a witch-like quality about her that made him think of dark secret rites and strange practices. But she wasn't even thirty yet. She was younger than he was. Her lips slightly parted, she darted a challenging glance up at him.
"I'll bet you know what to do with that piece of meat."
"I can think of a few things," he said.
"Hey, wait a minute. I found him. It's my turn first. Remember, you promised." Tara was beside him, tugging on his arm. Christ, it was incredible. The two girls were going to fight over him.
"I think it's for him to decide," the older one said, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her skirt and seductively sliding it off until she was completely naked in front of him.
"Come on, Mike," Tara pleaded like a whining child. "You promised you were going to fuck me first."
"Maybe we should decide this over a joint," Vicky suggested, reaching over to the bedside table. She handed a cigarette to Mike and one to Tara and continued puffing on her own, holding the smoke deep in her lungs until practically none of it was released on the exhale.
Mike wondered how many more joints he would smoke tonight before he went completely bananas. His sexual desire was already so heightened that if he got any higher his cock might blast off into orbit.
He and Tara got on the bed together next to Vicky, and his eyes rolled over the older girl's olive-skinned body, following the curves of her ripe soft breasts and narrow waist inevitably back to the flauntingly displayed "vee" between her legs and the white end of the candle stuck far into her cunt. As he watched, her buttock muscles contracted slightly, and the candle began to ooze slowly out between her thighs. Then she began an undulating movement of her hips, and, to his amazement, the candle disappeared again bit by bit back up into her sucking vagina. He could almost feel the nibbling of her cuntal lips on his own desire-stretched member.
"You see, I have perfect control," she boasted openly. "How would you like a try? You think you can go as far inside me as the candle did?" She clenched her vaginal muscles and the candle squirted juicily out of her cunt to plop obscenely between her outstretched legs. Now, she swiveled her hips so that her pelvis was directly facing him, and reached down with both hands to part the sparsely haired lips of her cuntal slit, lasciviously exposing her dilated vaginal hole and the swollen bud of her clitoris pulsating in the steaming furrow of glistening pussy flesh.
An intoxicatingly musky odor seemed to envelop Mike like a cloud. With a low animal groan, completely forgetful of his promise to Tara, he dropped to his knees on the bed and buried his head in Vicky's moistly seeping pussy, licking, rubbing smearing his face....sucking frenziedly at her loins as if she were the source of life itself. God, he had been so starved for an aroused and welcoming woman, a woman with a new and unfamiliar face and body! He'd almost forgotten such pleasures existed, what with the dull everydayness of his life with Abby.
Immediately, Vicky's hands came down and tangled in his hair, regulating his impetuous sucking and tonguing, guiding him first to the sensitive nub of her clitoris. As his lips closed around the moistly pulsing little bud, she gave a low abandoned moan and her pelvis began a fluid serpentine movement against his mouth which instinctively followed and accentuated her rhythm-sucking lips and swirling tongue, as if the two of them had been doing this from the beginning of time. That was it, Mike realized. They were perfectly attuned to each other, and he knew that when he fucked her it was going to be like fucking an incredible fantasy creature. This girl and he were made for each other-it was one of those miracles that happen. He knew exactly how to give her pleasure.
Her whole body jerked and shuddered when he drew his tongue up and down her moist cuntal crevice and began to rotate it around and around inside the smooth velvety flesh of her vagina, at first teasing just at the opening and then darting hungrily farther and farther up inside. He heard her moaning yearningly now and felt the membranes of her vaginal canal clutch so closely around his obscenely probing tongue that it seemed to become part of her body and flutter with the rapid pounding of blood pumping wildly through her veins. Not caring that he was barely able to breathe, he buried his nose deep between the soft wet flanges of her cunt, thrusting his tongue to its uttermost length up into her ravenous vaginal passage, inhaling the smothering pussy smell and reveling in her passionate response to the ministrations of his probing organ.
Just wait, baby, he was thinking. Wait till you feel my big cock up there, you'll never want anything else for the rest of your days. And even though he was groveling like a slave between her legs with her thighs locked tightly around his head, he was filled with an exhilarating sense of mastery over this strangely wanton girl he had only just met and whose cunt was now the limit of his universe. He could feel his throbbing cock straining and expanding to enormous thickness and length in anticipation of the wild fucking he was going to give her, but he continued to tantalize her with his tongue until her gasps became sobs and he felt her tugging at his head.
"Ball me now," she begged. "Oh God, I need your cock before I go crazy!" As Mike began to rip off his sweater and pants he caught just a glimpse of the disconsolate Tara sitting on the far edge of the bed with a pout on her face. There was no way he could keep his promise, he realized. This Vicky was a siren and had drawn him to her with some kind of otherworldly magnetic force.
When he dropped on his knees between her out-flung legs, she stopped tossing her head long enough to look down between her breasts at his hard, twitching cock, and she reached down her hand to guide his huge bulbous cockhead up into the "vee" of her quivering pussy. Simultaneously they heaved toward each other so that their loins smacked together and his bursting cock was buried to the hilt in the soft depths of her hungry female flesh on their first lunge.
"Auuuughhh, it's a hard," she breathed, lacing her smooth arms around his shoulders and back. "Don't move. Let me feel it throbbing in my pussy!"
Vicky smiled up at him with dry parched lips, and Mike suddenly became aware of the intense heat emanating from her motionless body, as if she were burning up with fever. It felt like she wanted to consume him, that there was something supernatural about her. Gradually, though, his own body began to absorb the heat, and ... maybe it was the pot he had smoked ... it seemed that he could distinctly feel every square inch of her body where his touched hers, as if somehow they were blending, melting together. Currents of new and nameless sensation, began eddying through his flesh, although neither of them were moving. He wanted to wet her lips with his tongue but sensed that this was no time for the ordinary motions of love and stared down into her dark opaque eyes with almost a sense of fear. It crossed his mind that somehow she was bewitching him, casting a spell over him. And then it began!
And went on endlessly, ceaselessly, agonizingly, incredibly ... an elastic rippling wave-movement of the inner muscles of her vagina that milked his turgidly jerking cock millimeter by millimeter from the hard aching head down to the thick base where their pubic hairs were stickily entwined. He tried to pull back in order to fuck into her but found that he was powerless to move as wild spiraling motion of her inner cuntal muscles built up a irresistible torment of ecstasy in his sperm-bloated balls, and he realized that even if she sucked the life out of him, he had to go to the end of this unbelievable sensation.
With a sob of frustration he dropped his head on the pillows beside hers and let her continue the weirdly unnatural theft of his manhood, because with part of his mind he realized that was what she was doing ... he was helpless as a baby. And that was his last thought before the violence of his release from this unbearable delight blacked out his mind, and his lust-tensed balls reached the limit of human endurance, exploding jet after seething jet of white-hot cum into her insatiably suctioning depths ... draining him forever.
"That wasn't bad for a first try," Vicky murmured as his convulsive jerkings gradually subsided and his hoarse panting diminished. She gave his rapidly shriveling cock one last squeeze with her cunt and imperiously ordered, "Fuck me. I mean, really fuck me this time."
Over Mike's shoulder she winked at Tara who was drinking from a bottle of wine which had been lying at the foot of the bed. Tara shrugged and Vicky could hardly conceal her triumph. She just hoped Wally and Russ stayed away long enough. Before the night was over she was going to have some fun with this newcomer that her friend had discovered. It was about time a stranger had come along. She was bored with Wally and Russ, bored out of her mind, so much so that she'd been thinking of taking off and striking out on her own somewhere. Russ and Wally had been good while they lasted, but now she wanted somebody new.
"Come on," she said. "I want you to do it again. You've got to be better than that silly candle."
As she squirmed to get out from under his collapsed body, Mike stared at her with lackluster eyes, overcome by exhaustion.
"Jesus," he breathed incredulously. "You sucked my balls dry."
"Sucked your balls dry? Shit! You went and pumped me up in about five minutes. That's not very fair to me, is it? After all, I'm supposed to get some pleasure out of this too."
Her magnetic attractiveness had suddenly turned into an ordinary bitchiness, making a strong revulsion well up inside him. He realized now that he should at least have kept his promise to Tara. She'd been sweet to him, not like this savage, dark-haired bitch.
"Fuck you," he snorted angrily, heaving himself off the bed, his mind fogged by the enormous quantities of marijuana the girls had plied him with. Lurching, he staggered off toward the kitchen in search of something to eat. God, he was hungry. He felt as though he'd just been put through a wringer.
In the kitchen there was some bread and cheese on a table and he began devouring it ravenously as Tara followed him in.
"I told you, you should have fucked me first," she reprimanded him childishly. "Now you won't be able to do it with me at all."
Mike crammed a piece of bread in his mouth and tore off some cheese. Jesus, what kind of crazy dream is this? he wondered.
He still couldn't believe how innocent Tara looked in spite of the things she'd done with him of her own volition. She was like an innocent native girl ... sex was normal and natural to her. She did it for the sake of enjoyment alone, while Vicky was obviously tortured and neurotic in some way. She seemed to want the impossible ... it was as though she hated men and wanted to abuse them, taking pleasure from them but giving none. God, he'd" made a mistake not keeping his vow to Tara.
And yet how could he have prevented it ... the dark-haired bitch possessed a kind of evil power, had woven a spell over him in his stoned condition. That trick she'd done with a candle had absolutely mesmerized him. He was aghast at her physical control, the ability to move her cuntal muscles in such an elastic way that she could take the thing to the hilt and expel it. He was crazy to think he could satisfy anybody like her, and yet she seemed determined to try again. Mike chuckled to himself as he chewed ferociously on the food. He had wanted an escape from the boredom of every day life, and by God, he'd gotten it in full measure. These two girls were like something out of a pornographic movie.
Tara was cozying up to him now, running her fingers through his hair as he ate standing up.
"Maybe you could finger me," she whispered. "I really need it bad. Would you? Please?"
There was a pleading look in her eyes, as though she really loved him, even though he knew that was impossible since they'd only known each other for a few hours. My God, what am I doing, he thought. I've left Abby back at the house, and there's no telling what she might be thinking now. She was probably worried sick about him.
And then suddenly he thought about the man in the hunting jacket, the one she claimed to have seen.
"What happened to your boyfriends?" He suddenly spun on Tara.
"Oh, don't worry about them. If they haven't come back by now they'll probably spend all night in town getting drunk. Vicky and me were getting sick of them leaving us here."
"You're sure they're not still on the island."
"Cross my heart," the girl said as though she were a budding preteen in the sixth grade. But was she really as innocent as she looked, he wondered. Maybe this was some kind of plot.
Maybe the girls had lured him here so their men friends could break into the cottage.
Mike let the bread and cheese drop to the table and grabbed Tara by the shoulders.
"This isn't a trick, is it? Swear to me this isn't a trick."
There was a look of fear in her eyes.
"I don't understand. It's no kind of trick. Wally and Russ went over to the mainland and I just went out on the beach to have a smoke. Then I saw you."
He searched her eyes for any trace of pretense, but her innocence remained unchanged. Jesus, he felt like he could almost fall in love with her, and yet she wasn't even twenty years old.
Tara, for her part, couldn't understand why he'd suddenly gotten angry and turned on her. It must have something to do with Vicky, the bitchy way she acted. She had the same effect on every guy they'd ever been with. They would be crazy about fucking her, and then she would get them angry. Tara had been with and liked the older girl for a long time, but she knew there was something wrong with her. She had to prevent Mike from getting sucked into her web again. She, Tara, was the one who'd found him, and he was rightfully hers. Finders keepers.
Tara went back into the bedroom, retrieved the bottle of wine and after pouring him a glass slipped out of her cutoff jeans, sitting down on a wooden chair, her knees touching against his thighs.
"Please, do it now. We don't have to go into the bedroom."
Sipping his wine, Mike looked from the full wide-set mounds of her breasts, which were thrusting aside her still unbuttoned shirt, down to her soft belly. A faint crimson down began just below the shadowy indentation of her naval and extended on down to the tawny pubic "vee" where just the vaguest line of her closed pink cunt lips showed through the tangled mass of silky curls.
"I'll suck it for you, sweetheart. Just like I did for Vicky, but even better."
A feeling of tenderness welled in his heart for the young girl. Sinking to his knees, he reached out and dipped his extended middle finger gently in between her legs, feeling it slide immediately up into the already well-moistened vaginal cleft. Impulsively, he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked away her vaginal secretions. They tasted fresh and sweet, not strong and heady like Vicky's.
"Mike, rub my clit, please," she pleaded, taking his free hand and guiding it back to her widespread pussy. She showed him how she liked his finger to rub and circle her clitoris, and she shut her eyes and rocked her naked pelvis slowly back and forth on the hard wooden chair.
Mike felt the strength beginning to return as he did what she showed him. God, he hadn't been this horny for years.
Already his cock was showing signs of reawakening. The swelling glans, all sticky with Vicky's cuntal secretions, was beginning to push its way out from the heavy hood of foreskin and the shaft was straightening in a rapidly thickening arc.
Tara was quick to see this resurgence, and momentarily abandoning her own pleasure, she knelt down off the chair as his finger slipped out from her cuntal slit, and she began licking his cock again. At the first soft warm contact with her hot tongue, Mike felt that she was cleansing him of his unhealthy experience with her friend. His self-confidence which the dark-haired older girl had nearly destroyed was beginning to flow back. He felt like an ancient warrior returning victorious from a battlefield to an orgiastic banquet given in his honor, and when once more his cock was fully erect and potent from her loving ministrations, he raised her head and said boldly:
"All right, let's go fuck now." The young college instructor picked her up easily in his arms and carried her to the bed, the idea of showing Vicky a thing or two running through his mind. He wasn't about to let her get away with her insults. Without a glance, he laid the redhead down on the mattress on the other side from Vicky who was watching them impassively from a cross-legged position. Fuck her, she could just watch and eat her heart out, he said to himself.
Gently, he positioned himself in between Tara's outstretched legs, and instead of plunging brutally into her as he'd done with Vicky, he began by rotating the blunt blood-swollen head of his penis into the delicate petal-like folds of her cunt with his hand, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down and watch the slow titillating entrance of his cockhead into her softly squirming pussy. Jesus, he thought, maybe there was something in what they said about marijuana ... about its heightening your sexual powers ... because his cock looked incredibly big, bigger than he had ever seen it before. The angry red rim jutted way out from the tautly stretched skin of the iron-hard shaft. As it sank out of sight up inside her warmly inviting cunt, he felt the supple elastic walls of her moist vagina give and flower open, then settle snugly back around the welcome intruder.
"Aaaagh, it's so good, so hard," she murmured, gazing up lovingly into his eyes. "God, Mike, you have a beautiful cock."
He straightened his body over hers so that now his weight was resting on both elbows and his hands were free to pinch and knead the erect cherry-red nipples of her breasts, bringing more little gasps and sighs of pleasure from her lips.
Gradually, with slight rhythmic flexes of his hips, he inched his way up into her moistly hungry depths. When her eyes flickered shut and the fluid thrust of her hips became more urgent, he sank all the way down on top of her body and with a final corkscrew twist of his cock rammed it all the way in, feeling it buckle slightly as it slammed up against her cervix. Christ, it must have grown an inch since he met her on the beach ... the poor thing seemed to have shrunk from lack of excitement since he'd been married to Abby.
Tara's arms flew up around his neck and she pulled his mouth down to hers in a long passionate kiss. He could feel the large cushioning mounds of her breasts flattening under his weight ... the soft warm flesh of her belly ... the silky skin of her inner thighs as she wrapped her legs around him. Their bodies were locked together in a delicious union, and he could sense her trusting surrender ... not like that cold-blooded witch who had tricked him into cumming before he could really throw it to her. Vicky, he thought, was probably one of those frigid broads who could do anything with their cunts, pick up dollar bills off the floor, even retrieve cigarette butts ... but never reach orgasm. No, this was the real thing, he told himself, beginning to fuck into Tara with long measured strokes, feeling her intuitively adjusting to his rhythm. This was the way he'd expected his own wife, Abby, to respond to his lovemaking, but instead, she'd always tried to do' something new, something she wasn't accomplished enough to handle in a desperate effort to awaken his libido. If she'd only realized that to relax and be herself was the best thing, then they would never have run into problems-.with each other.
As for Tara, the more eagerly she responded to him, the more alive his body became. The sensitive underside of his cockhead which had been half-numb when he started was now the focus of one long continuous dreamy sensation which fanned out through his loins as he drove in and out of the teenaged redhead's tightly encasing cunt, and she met him stroke for stroke, panting hotly into his ear. God, if he'd only married a girl like this, he mused, how different his life would be. But maybe it wasn't too late.
The young poet shivered suddenly as he felt a hand close firmly around his testicles and tug back on them while he drove forward, tightening the already taut skin on his cock and somehow immediately heightening the pleasure flow as he slung hard up into Tara's cunt.
Vicky! The bitch was trying to get into the act! He wanted to stop and give her a backhand across the mouth that would knock her from hell to breakfast, but Tara was writhing passionately under him and he knew the pretty teenager was on the verge of climax. So he went on fucking it to her but the center of his attention was now being shifted back to his balls which Vicky was expertly kneading in a way that was almost but not quite painful, sending multiple jolts of indecipherable sensations out through his overcharged nerves. Then he felt her fingernails clawing lightly at his buttocks and he groaned as they were pried apart by her strong fingers, and her hot breath blew on his tightly puckered anus. Something soft and moist began licking up and down his anal crack and he felt Vicky's cheekbones drive into the nether crevice as she speared her tongue toward the rubbery hairless ring of his rectum. God, she's tonguing my asshole! The knowledge of this lewd act prickled the hairs at the nape of his neck. Nobody had ever done that to him before. With another groan he spread his legs to give her greater access and in spite of himself slowed down his fucking rhythm.
"Fuck me harder, Mike," Tara groaned. "Stick your cock in deeper!"
Mike ground his teeth and tried, but he was powerless to resist the weird, novel sensation of having his anus licked while a soft hand twiddled his balls, jerking them back and forth, massaging on the hairline border of pain and ecstasy. All of a sudden the tight ring on his anus seemed to melt and the tip of Vicky's tongue slid inside. She really had her tongue up his ass, probably only a fraction of an inch, but he could feel the tiny organ squirming maddeningly up his rectum and it was too much for him. It blew his mind, and a long shudder traveled all the way up his backbone as Vicky gave one extra hard tug at his balls.
"Oh man. Jesus, I'm cummmmming!" he moaned, his face flushing savagely with the strain as his body began to jerk and spasm totally out of control.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Tara wailed as her fists pounded wildly on his back. "Oh God, I was almost there. Why did you have to cum so soon?"
Completely exhausted and filled with shame and confusion, the hulking poet let Tara shove him away so that he rolled over next to Vicky. She looked down at him, her legs still crossed, a pitying smile on her face.
"So you shot your wad too soon again? Tara doesn't like that either."
Too weary for arguments, Mike pushed himself exhaustedly off the bed and staggered into the kitchen, his mind reeling as though any second he thought it would come unhinged. Some vague pang of conscience told him that he should head back to the cottage, to his wife, but he felt so confused he knew he would never find the way. What if she was looking for him? he wondered. What if she were stumbling through the woods desperately trying to find him? There thoughts ran through his mind, but the worst thought of all sent a chill up his spine. What if she found this place and barged in, catching him with these two girls?
CHAPTER SIX
Inside the other cottage on the small island, two young men were watching with greedy lust as the blonde housewife cowered on all fours, helplessly immobilized by fear and disgust. What had once been merely unpleasant had now become diabolically hellish.
Russ moved on his knees slowly toward Abby, a twisted smile on his face as he stroked his hugely bulging cock, riding the loose foreskin back on the stiff base and bringing it forward again. He watched with enjoyment the look of abject terror in her eyes. She wasn't acting the least bit snotty now, not like she was in control of the situation. The once-cool bitch was now a mass of trembling flesh, in awe of his massively powerful cock, the cock he was going to shove down into the depths of her throat.
"Open wide and say 'ahh,' baby," he crooned malevolently as he stationed his knees between her supporting arms.
Abby tried to look away and avoid the mammoth male instrument that was now brushing against her cheek, but her eyes returned to it involuntarily. It was thick and pulsating like a jungle snake, ribbed and webbed with thick blue veins, the head large and spongy like a menacing primeval mushroom.
"Please, Russ. Don't make me suck it," she begged one last time. "It's too big, you'll choke me.
"Look at her coppin' out," Wally laughed maliciously as he looked on the salacious scene.
"It's too late now, baby. Like I said, open wide," Russ commanded.
Trembling with raw animal fear, Abby craned her neck upward and clenched her eyes tightly shut to blot out the reality of what was going to happen. Compliantly, she opened her mouth as wide as it could go, knowing that if his cock was really so big that she couldn't take it, he might shove it down her throat and kill her. She waited, dreading the moment-he would stuff his obscene organ inside her mouth, but Russ was taking his time.
With a lewd grin he grasped his massive cock by the base and began circling the spongy cockhead around her full lips, leaving a ring of sticky pre-cum on the soft moist flesh.
"That's just a preview," he said, rocking back slightly and pulling his cock back. Involuntarily Abby closed her mouth and ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the pungent salt of his maleness. Oh God, he was going to torture her, he was going to make her suffer before he spewed load after load of his hot cum into her throat.
He moved forward again, this time forcing his blood-swollen cock in between her closed lips until the bell-shaped tip came to rest against her teeth.
Slowly he began a teasing rotating motion, withdrawing the cockhead slightly but never quite removing it from the grip of her lips.
"Come on, baby, I want to see you get all hot and bothered, just the way you did with Wally. Open those pearly white teeth of yours."
In spite of her terror, Abby could feel her earlier sensation of arousal returning, and a thin trickle of moisture flowed down from her vaginal lips, down over the insides of her thighs. In spite of her resistance her eyes opened, and she looked fearfully down at the mammoth male organ trembling between her lips. It was long, thick, and bulbous and traveled crookedly back to the base of his loins surrounded by dark wiry pubic hair. It was huge!
Suddenly she felt his hands gripping her hair and his pelvis moving forward. The pressure of his lust-swollen organ was enough to push through the barrier of her locked teeth, and she felt his massive rod of flesh penetrating into the warm depths of her mouth.
"Start suckin', baby," he growled. "And suck it good."
Automatically her lips began to open and close, fish-like, around his bloated spongy cockhead, and a tremor of wild obscene excitement sped through her belly. He began massaging her temples with his hands, his pelvis undulating as it began a back-and-forth motion.
The stiff rod of flesh plunged an inch deeper, and she realized now that she had to suck him off and make him cum immediately before he plunged his invading cock any deeper inside and made her choke to death. Resigning herself, she began to nibble ferociously, her lips opening and closing around the impaling instrument, her tongue swirling around the glans on the underside until she felt his rock-hard organ give a preliminary jerk. He was hot and ex cited, she could feel it ... he was going to cum any second. She had to get it over with, before he became too excited ... and before she lost control of herself.
His pelvis rocked faster, now, and his pounding cock slid in deeper, back and forth, dribbling tiny droplets of salty moisture down her throat. As he watched delightedly, he reached forward and seized her voluptuously rounded breasts, running his thumbs over them in tickling circles that sent mad pulsations flashing through her body. In response she began wiggling her hips, feeling her own moist juices flowing down from her cunt even more freely. Why, why was she losing control again? It was as though she were some kind of obscene whore who had begged for this, had actually begged to suck his cock.
"That's it, baby, you're goin' to it now," he groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in ecstasy. He knew she'd come around. He had her in his power now, and with a powerful thrust of his hips, he drove his turgid cock all the way in up to the base, reveling in the way she gagged and sputtered as his wiry pubic hair flattened against her nose and cheeks.
He could feel the sensitive bulbous head of his plunging cock grinding against her throat, and he began rotating his hips and pelvis, his hands digging ferociously into the sides of her head to hold her in place. He could see her pumping and slaving, her cheeks puffing out as she sucked madly on the wildly pumping organ.
"Aaaaaaghhh, unnggggh!" she gasped, fighting for breath. The cock was buried deep down in her throat and there was nothing she could do to dislodge it. Her hand swung frantically from side to side, her lips opened and closed, sucking voraciously, and suddenly she reached forward with both hands, one hand grabbing the firm flesh of his buttocks for support, the other gently cupping his lust-bloated balls.
"Awwww Jesus," he groaned. "Squeeze 'em, squeeze 'em."
But there was no need to spur her on now. Her mind was destroyed, blown open by the obscenely raw pleasure of this huge male organ pumping savagely in and out of the depths of her throat. She wanted it, she wanted it alll She wanted to suck and swallow his flaming hot cum until it burned and bubbled in her belly.
Like a madwoman, she slaved and worked as he squeezed and tore at her breasts, twisting her nipples until she thought she would go mad from the fiendish pleasure-pain. She was in an entirely different world now, as if she had gone insane.
Never had he expected her to go wild like this, although he'd known eventually that she would begin to respond with more pleasure than pain. But this was too incredible to be true! Her whole body was working madly to bring him to a stupendous orgasm. He could feel her stiff nipples thrusting out like little darts against the palms of his hands. He could see her well-rounded buttocks raised high in the air, rotating in widely swinging circles, the smooth flesh of her back rippling as she bucked back and forth.
All of a sudden he couldn't hold back any longer. He could feel his whole body stiffening, goose pimples crawling over his flesh. His aching cock jerked and seemed to explode, hot jets of sperm racing up from his steaming balls as her fingernails dug rhythmically into his scrotum. His hips and belly twitched and pulsed uncontrollably, while his spasming cock balloned out and began shooting like a machine gun. One, two, three hot spurts. And then more. His cum rocketed from his balls like a searing torrential flood that had burst through a dam.
Her blue eyes wide open and rolling in their sockets, Abby sucked savagely on the cum-spewing instrument in her mouth. Her cheeks puffed and hollowed as her head bobbed back and forth, and her adam's apple rippled up and down, frantically trying to swallow every bit of the liquid bombardment spewing deep into her throat, ravenously devouring the salty, sticky sperm that was flooding her insides. Never before had she tasted anything so sweet. Each scalding jet that poured down into her throat seemed to ignite a fire in her loins that could not be satisfied. It wasn't enough! She wanted more, and as Russ pushed against her temples, slowly beginning to withdraw his now-deflating organ from her mouth, she followed after it, licking and nibbling hungrily at it like a starving bitch dog.
"Oh Jesus Christ, that's enough," Russ pleaded as he fell back on his elbows on the mattress, but the ravenous blonde wasn't to be deterred. She grasped his tingling balls and squeezed them, trying to pump them dry, her lips and tongue swirling over the sticky streams of cum still clinging to the slit of his cockhead.
"Morel More! Give me more," she begged until finally he pushed her away, and realizing that it was all over, she lay on her back on the bed, her breasts heaving as she inhaled deep breaths. Streams of viscous cum oozed out over her sensual lips and clung to her chin, and for the moment there was not an ounce of remorse in her body-only a warm lingering pleasure from the obscene blow-job she had just performed. How could it be? How could she have let herself do anything like this? But the guilt was only a faint echo in her mind. God, she'd loved itl She only wished she could do it again! The strange intruder had the biggest, most delicious cock she had ever tasted.
By now, Mike had already consumed half the wine on the kitchen table, and that in combination with the marijuana had fogged his mind over so completely he hardly knew where he was. In his mind, confused scenes of sex were tumbling all about. He remembered the redhead, the scene on the beach, then coming to the cabin, and then Vicky. Vicky sitting on the bed, her skirt hiked over her hips, the candle bobbing obscenely in and out of her pussy.
Jesus, he couldn't believe it, he was horny again. How many times had he fucked and been sucked tonight? He couldn't remember. Everything was bobbing and throbbing in his mind, and now, setting down the bottle, he weaved his way toward the bedroom, his cock beginning to rise up and jut out lewdly from his loins once again. Fuck, fuck. That was the only thing going on in his mind.
Staggering to the bedroom, he stopped in the doorway and fixed his eyes on the scene taking place inside. Tara was still sprawled out on the bed where he'd left her, and Vicky was kneeling beside her, smoothly stroking the younger girl's inner thighs right up to the cum-soaked tawny hair covering Tara's pubic mound.
"He wasn't very satisfying, was he?" the dark-haired girl murmured. "We can do it better, just the two of us."
"Oh Vicky, I don't want to. I don't like that."
"Don't be like that, sweetheart. You know I can bring you off. I can suck that clit of yours better than any man in the world. Come on, let me suck it, and then you'll feel nice and calm."
The young redhead gave in, moaning and nodding her head, and Vicky hunched down in between her outspread legs and began nuzzling into the sperm-drenched pussy with obscene licking and sucking noises. Pretty soon Tara's hips began to grind and churn.
Christ, they were both fucking lesbians, Mike thought derisively. He should have known it all along. No wonder Vicky had given him such a pile of shit about coming too soon. She was just against men, that's all! Damn, he thought, look at the way her ass is quivering now when she's going down on Tara. It looked as though that hairless anus of hers were winking at him, telling him something.
It took a minute for the message to register, but then it came in loud and clear. That little anus wanted to be fucked. What a delight it would be, shoving his cock up there and teaching her a lesson. He wanted to see her squirm like a pig on a stick. He'd split her wide open.
Circling hands around his reawakening cock, he began rubbing the foreskin back and forth over his glistening cockhead. Hell, his penis felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, but it was working all right, getting harder and thicker every second. Jesus, he'd never felt more potent in his life. The whole congested length of his aching cock was feverishly inflamed from his lustful exertions, but the hard-on that was jutting between his legs was still one of the biggest he'd ever managed to produce. Damn, he was going to give that ball-chewing dyke, Vicky, the lesson of her life.
Reeling drunkenly, he stumbled across the room and mounted the bed until he was just behind the kneeling dark-haired girl. Then he spat on his extended middle finger and aimed it true to the mark at the puckered hairless little nether hole, and with no warning at all, he rammed his out-thrust digit up her rectum to the first knuckle.
"Awwwwwwwwh!" Vicky screamed wildly, her head popping up like a jack-in-the-box from between Tara's thighs as the searing pain from her lacerated back passage scoured through her nervous system. She tried to lunge sideways to escape the unbearable penetration, but with his free arm Mike locked her buttocks in a bear like bone-crushing grip against his burly chest and held her buttocks immobilized.
"Stop it, damn youl Get out of there!" she screamed wildly at him, twisting her head around and spitting like a trap cat.
"Just shut your goddamn mouth. I'm gonna fuck you up the ass and you're gonna enjoy it," he growled.
Without waiting for her reply, Mike seized the older girl by the hips and tilted her buttocks upward until they were waving in front of his eyes like a desirable prize.
Vicky clenched her sphincter muscle tightly in a desperate effort to prevent the unwanted entry, though she knew that ultimately it would do no good. She hated getting fucked from the rear because she had no control over what was going on. The few times she'd let Russ do it to her, she'd had such funky far-out orgasms she hardly knew what to think. It had been almost enough to make her respect men again, which was something she didn't want to do.
How this guy had ever managed to get it up again, she would never know. She thought he would be passed out in a heap in a corner somewhere, gone for the night. Well, one more time around, she told herself grimly, but he'd pay for this. She was going to get back at him any way she could. Her dark eyes blazed with vicious intensity at the thought of her upcoming revenge. What it would be, she didn't know yet, but she would find something.
"Keep sucking, Vicky," Mike growled, proud of his dominating position over her. He wanted her to bend down again in order to leave him greater access to that tight little anus of hers.
No more piss and vinegar left in her now, he gloated. All it took was a finger in the right place. Drunkenly, he squinted down at his anger-bloated cock which was straining eagerly up toward its target at a forty-five degree angle, aimed by an instinct as old as human nature. Damn, his cock was going to outlast him if he didn't hurry, he realized, becoming aware of his suddenly blurred vision and spinning head. He abruptly pulled his impaling finger out of Vicky's now-moist and distended anus with an obscene popping sound and planted the bulging head of his throbbing penis at the still-disproportionately tiny entrance. It was now or never! With his fingers digging like talons into the soft white flesh of the black-haired girl's widespread buttocks, he gathered all his remaining strength and lunged forward.
"NnnnNOOOO!" Vicky's agonized groan rose muffled from Tara's passionately grinding cunt as Mike stared elatedly down at the bloated tip of his rock-hard cock firmly embedded between the quaking ass cheeks of his helpless victim." God, she was tight! He'd never felt anything that tight before. A black tide of sheer sadistic lust swept through his body, and his hands began to swoop blindly around her hips like hunger-crazed birds, fiercely plucking and pinching at her buttocks, thighs, stomach, whatever they met.
He reached up underneath her kneeling body and savagely squeezed her nipple-peaked breasts until she yelped with pain. Then he thrust his hand down between her parted legs to mercilessly grind against her swollen clitoris with the ball of his outstretched finger.
"Start movin' that ass!" he yelled at her, exulting in his total mastery and the orgy of pain he was inflicting. Never before had he deliberately hurt a woman but it was exactly what this cunt wanted, exactly what she wanted! The knowledge of that diabolical truth burned like a beacon through the thick fumes of wine and marijuana that shrouded his brain as he began to saw brutally in and out of her overstretched nether hole. He rammed his spearing cock farther and farther up into her abused rectal passage until his pelvis smashed solidly against her flattened buttocks with a loud smacking noise, and the tight ring of her defenseless anus clasped the very base of his ferociously stabbing cock. She was moving now! By God, he could feel her humping back against him-she wanted it! He was drilling so far up inside her that it seemed like he could feel her heart thudding against the end of his cock!
"Oooooh yess, shit! I want it!" she groaned. Harrrrder, deeeeper!"
With a lopsided, drunken leer on his face, Mike looked up from their obscenely welded bodies to where Tara's head was flailing from side to side on the mattress. Her pale face was contorted in a grimace of ecstasy as she bit her lower lip in her struggle toward orgasm. The sight reminded Mike of his failure to make her cum, poor kid, but he was no longer ashamed. He had proved he was a man tonight and evened the score with this wild bitch, Vicky, who was moaning and gasping under him and frantically milking his rod up and down with her anus the way she had done before with her cunt. He could feel the miraculously renewed sperm boiling in his balls but this time he was in control. He could hold back forever if he had to....
Abby found herself with her clothes on stumbling somewhere through the woods, although she wasn't sure where. Russ was leading the way in front of her, while Wally remained a few paces behind, giving her an occasional shove as she faltered. She knew they were worried about her trying to run away, but the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. The worst of the ordeal was over, and they were taking her to her husband now.
Finally, she would be able to discover the truth. Had he really taken up with their two girl friends, or had they been lying all along? It was a kind of morbid curiosity that propelled her along the path toward the cabin. She pictured Mike injured and sprawling, having been robbed and beaten by her captors; then the picture changed, and saw him on a soiled mattress performing acrobatic feats with the two young girls. What the truth was, she had no idea. She could only find out for herself.
In a short time, she could see a light gleaming ahead through the early evening darkness. That must be the cabin, she thought, and with each step she grew more tense, for soon she was going to discover the truth.
"You still don't believe us, do you?" Russ called out from ahead. "Well, just hang on, and you'll see for yourself. I'll bet he's doin' it to both of them right now."
Abby remained silent, undaunted by his jibe until they came within view of the place, and then all three moved forward slowly, stepping gingerly over the rocks and twigs that littered the ground.
In a matter of moments she found herself against the wall of the building, her hands barely touching the windowsill.
"Go on, take a peek," Wally urged her. "See for yourself."
Slowly she raised her head up and gazed through the window opening onto the bedroom. She was doing the same thing Russ had done earlier when he'd spied on her, but overcome by curiosity she could not resist. It was hopeless. What she saw hit her like a bucket of cold water.
By the light of a lamp on a bedside table, against a background of red-orange flames leaping in the fireplace, she beheld her husband stark naked and hunched like a savage animal over a girl who herself was bent forward in between the legs of another girl. It was the most perverted, obscene thing she had ever witnessed. He was fucking one girl in the rectum while she was tonguing her friend's pussy. A raging indignation welled up inside the watching blonde-haired woman, even though she remembered what she had been doing with Russ and Wally only a short time ago.
It wasn't fair. All along Mike had been neglecting her, and now he was obviously fucking these two girls with an enthusiasm she hadn't seen in him in years. It was incredible. How could he be so bored with sex at home, and yet so wildly alive now?
His head was thrown back, his mouth wide open so that she could almost hear the groans issuing from it. He was pumping his cock furiously back and forth into the dark-haired girl's nether passage, slamming into her with a savage abandon that she had never thought possible in her husband. The guilt surrounding her own transgressions vanished in the night breeze. He had been a lying hypocrite all along. He wasn't tired of sex, he was tired of her. And his tiredness had led her to enjoy the ravishment she had just suffered. Her terror was suddenly supplanted by an uncontrollable anger directed at her husband.
"That bastard, that goddamn son of a bitch," she breathed heatedly.
Wally and Russ exchanged amused glances.
"I told you he was fuckin' our chicks," Russ said. "Now you see we were just tryin' to get even."
"Well, you got even, all right," she spat. "But I didn't. Come on, we're going inside. I'm going to give you two the fucking of your lives just to get back at him."
Wally responded with a low whistle of amazement, and Russ grabbed the blonde's hand, giving her a jerk in the direction of the front door.
"You got a deal, baby."
After Russ had yanked open the door, Abby entered perfectly straight-faced, her heightened emotions under control, at least outwardly. What she was going to do now was cold and calculated. She was going to pay Mike back for years of indifference, and she was going to bring it all home to him with a graphic punch that he would never forget.
It was Russ who entered the bedroom first, swinging the door boisterously open.
"Goddamn, I didn't know you girls were havin' a party. Look who we brought along."
On the bed, Vicky turned and flashed an angry smile.
"It's about time you got back. We've been horny all day. But Mike's been helping us out."
Mike heard her words and sensed that someone else had entered the bedroom, but it did not register on him the same way it would have had he been sober. For a long moment he continued plunging his cock deep into Vicky's anal crevice trying to bring himself to the point of orgasm and flood her nether passage with his cum.
"Look at him go," Wally whistled. "He must really like Vicky's asshole."
"Never mind about him," Abby snapped suddenly. "He can do his thing and we'll do ours." Methodically she began unbuttoning her blouse and undoing her skirt as she glanced at her husband, heedlessly grinding away toward orgasm on the bed. Either he was ignoring her or he hadn't realized that she was in the same room. At any rate it didn't matter. He would discover her presence soon enough.
Mike heard a woman's voice, but that's all it was ... the voice of another woman, probably someone the two guys had picked up on the mainland. The only thing that mattered now was the abuse he was giving Vicky's rectum. He was going to cum any second. Oh Jesus, he could feel it now.
Leaning forward he thrust his hips home against her buttocks, bringing a scream from her throat, and suddenly his jack-hammering cock began to shoot off like a string of firecrackers. Shot after shot of his fiery sperm jetted into her writhing rectum, and he could feel her sphincter clasping and unclasping around his spasming cock, trying to suck it dry. He moaned and bellowed, and when the last ounce of white-hot sperm had shot up into her nether depths, he fell back and collapsed on the bed. Hell, he's shown her what a man could do, he'd really shown her, and now he was possessed by a total exhaustion that swept over his body like a deep, gentle wave. His mind whirled in confusion, his eyes flickered shut and a smile of pleased triumph formed on his lips. God, was he satisfied. He had never been so satisfied in his life.
Abby stared disappointedly at the lumped mass of flesh that was her husband. She was certain now that he hadn't even realized she was in the room, but it didn't matter. He was bound to wake up again, and when he did he would be witness to a scene that would shock him out of his complacency forever.
"Take your clothes off, Wally," she commanded firmly, pointing her finger at the youth.
"Far out, you're really comin' along."
"Don't talk, just take your clothes off," she repeated, feeling herself rising to command of the situation. She wanted everything to work just her way so that when Mike woke up he would realize immediately that she was giving herself freely and not being raped.
Obediently, the bearded teenager stripped all of his clothing off and nakedly approached her with his young cock jutting out half-hard from between his legs.
"Lay down on your back," she said. "Go on, do it. I want to do things my way now."
Grinning, Wally did as she commanded, spreading his legs slightly apart and watching his excited cock rising to the occasion until it was stiff and hard and pointing straight up at the ceiling.
"Oh wow," Vicky sighed in admiration from the bed. "This chick really knows what she's doing."
As if to prove the other girl right, Abby crawled up top of Wally on her knees and spread her legs wide, grasping his youthful throbbing cock in her fingers and massaging it lightly up and down until she could feel it growing thicker and harder in the palm of her hand.
Tantalizingly she began circling it around the lips of her moistened cunt, feeling it pulse in time to her ministrations.
"Oh man," Wally groaned. "You're an incredible broad."
She teased him a second longer until she could feel his penis jerking excitedly in her hand, and then slowly she lowered her hips, feeling the spongy cockhead slip in between her moistly heated labia. It was the first time in all this mad afternoon that she was going to be fucked, and she could feel herself trembling in anticipation. God, it was good. If only Mike would wake up now and see what was going on. That was the whole purpose of what she was doing; it wasn't for her pleasure, but simply to get even with him.
With a lewd sucking sound the teenager's lust-thickened penis slipped up deep inside her, and she began a rocking, grinding motion as her cunt lips palpitated hotly around the invading shaft of rock-hard flesh. It was stiff and thick, and already it was throbbing vibrantly inside her.
"Oh yeah," Wally groaned. "You really know how to do it." Abby was completely in control of the situation now, and she leaned forward on her haunches, trapping Wally's upthrust cock tightly inside her, supporting herself with her hands on either side of his shoulders.
"Go on, suck my breast, hard!"
Without protest, Wally propped himself up on his elbows and circled his lips around one of her stiffly aroused nipples. He began sucking greedily, swirling his tongue around the very tip, feeling it respond with an ever-growing sharpness, and at the same time feeling his cock being swallowed ever deeper up inside her steaming cunt.
Jesus, she was incredible now. All that bullshit she'd pulled earlier had gone with the wind. She was alive and fucking like a real champ, throwing herself into it with a soul. As his lips clasped and unclasped around her nipple, she rocked back and forth on his loins, going slightly up and down, driving his rigid cock crazy with desire. Christ, it was like her cunt was a mouth the way it was nibbling around his lust-hardened rod.
Russ, his eyes fixed on the salacious scene, was suddenly coming alive again, his own massive cock stirring inside the tight confines of his pants.
"Pump it, blondie, move that ass!" He egged her on encouragingly, shooting a sidelong glance at Vicky on the bed. It was as though he were saying, "Look, here's a match for you."
In a second Russ was slipping out of his trousers and whipping off his jockey shorts, his feverish cock flexing like a mammoth pole between his legs.
That blonde's fast-moving buttocks were a temptation too strong to resist. The way they were wiggling and circling around, they looked like an engraved invitation to be fucked ... not that he needed one. He watched as Wally drew his widespread legs up until his knees were pointing up at the ceiling, and then the older man moved in. Hunching down on all fours he moved up against Abby's body until his face was right at the crevice of her buttocks, and suddenly his tongue darted forward, flicking lizard-like at her tightly puckered little anus.
The outlandish sensation sent a jolt through Abby's body that spurred her on to an even faster, more rhythmic pumping motion of her hips. God, he was actually going to lick her asshole. Nobody had ever done that before. Hurry, Mike, wake up, you bastard, she urged silently. I want you to see all of this.
Casting a glance at the bed, she could see her husband beginning to stir, rolling over on his side. She had to something to rouse him from his semi-coma.
"OOOOOOH, God, Russ, suck me! Suck my ass!" she wailed in a deep dramatic moan, bringing an instant result.
Russ's hands sank brutally into the soft flesh of her ass cheeks and pried her buttocks apart, giving him greater access, to the twitching ring of her anus, and in a second she felt an electric jolt as his tongue thrust up against her nether hole, pushing inside this time. Beneath her, Wally was beginning to thrust and buck his pelvis up hard against her loins, matching the writhing movements of her own hips. The suction on his straining cock inside her pussy was loud and wet and reverberated obscenely throughout the room.
The noise was loud enough to lift the fog from Mike's brain, and he blinked open his eyes. Christ, what was happening? Were they going at it again? The sounds were coming from the floor. It must be the girl the two youths had picked up on the mainland. They were obviously giving her a good going-over. He had to get out of here while they were still occupied, or else they were suddenly going to turn on him and .tear him limb from limb for fucking their girls.
His eyes still bleary he pivoted his legs off the bed, reached for his clothes which lay in a heap on the floor. And then he froze. His eyes fixed in disbelief on the scene that was taking place. They were fucking his wife! No-Abby was on top. She was fucking the bearded young teenager, and the other guy had his face buried between her wide-spread buttocks.
Sensing the movement on the bed, Abby went into the full throes of abandon.
"Fuck me, Russ, fuck my ass!" she screamed as she pumped frantically up and down on Wally's cock, desperately trying to make the teenager cum. She could feel his bloated cock inside her so deep, she thought any minute it would burst through her belly and penetrate her throat with its bulbous cockhead. His arms strained and his stomach muscles expanded and contracted as Wally thrust upward, ramming his seething rod of flesh into her welcoming cuntal passage. At the same time, Russ withdrew his mouth from her anus and, firmly gripping her hips, thrust his mammoth penis against the moistened nether opening with the force of a battering ram.
"Ummgh, God it's good!" she gasped, her face contorted in a weird mask of frenzied lust, as she felt the massive cock boring up into her vaginal rectum.
She was being impaled from both ends now, skewered by two hard male cocks ... it was incredible. She had never experienced anything like it ... and all the while her husband was watching, witnessing the salacious scene. That was the best part. She was paying him back for screwing the two young girls, for neglecting her over the years. God, the revenge was beautiful almost as good as the raw pleasure she was receiving herself.
"F-fuck, fuck, fuck meeeee!" she failed as Russ rammed his turgid cock deep up into her rectum and Wally suddenly squirmed beneath her. She could feel his teenage cock twitching, the knob-like cockhead trembling and suddenly squirting its smoldering load of cum up inside her belly. The spurting cum spewed and jerked into her like a wildly flowing nectar, and she tossed her head back, rolling from side to side as her full lips bared back over her teeth.
"Oh wow, that's incredible!" Vicky breathed from the bed.
Mike, for his part, was still not sure he wasn't hallucinating. He knew that this was his wife, and he could tell she wasn't being raped, but it didn't seem possible. She was enjoying it ... she was actually enjoying being fucked by two complete strangers!
"Jesus Christ," he groaned, and as he attempted to rise up from the bed, he felt Vicky's arms curling tightly around his neck in a snake-like embrace, pulling him back down.
"Oh no you don't. Your wife hasn't got it off yet. Besides, you got some more lead left in your pencil."
Simultaneously, Tara stirred and came to Vicky's aid, giggling in an insane teenage way. Before he knew what was happening he was flat on his back, and Vicky's hands were curled around his limp cock, trying to bring it to erection once again. As he turned his head he could see the younger boy moving his body out from under Abby, his cock trailing sticky strands of oozing cum. At the same time, Abby went down on all fours and wiggled her buttocks high in the air as Russ slammed his punishing penis violently into her anus, bringing whimpering cries of mad pleasure from her lips.
"Harder, harder! Jam it up my asshole!" she screamed, her whole body undulating and pumping, her head lashing from side to side. Jesus, she was a fucking machine. She'd gone crazy. And it was all his fault! He'd never known she could turn on like this.
But there was little time to watch, for now, spurred on by his wife's animalistic performance, he felt his own cock stiffening still another time. Then he felt Vicky's hungrily sucking lips closing around it, and at the same time, Tara turned around and lowered her sweet young pussy over his face. Oh yes, the night was young yet, and they were all going to fuck until the early hours of morning. Never again would he complain about life being dull.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Well, our young poet has been the talk of the campus since he returned from that long weekend of his," Dr. Peter Grover said to his wife over cocktails.
"Abby seems to have changed, too. I really can't understand it. They seemed so stable, so inhibited before."
"Especially for a poet," Grover acknowledged. "But all that's changed. Rumors are going around that he's been servicing the coeds in Creative Writing 101."
"I understand there are a few in Creative Writing 301 as well," Linda replied.
"I wouldn't dispute it."
"Abby apparently has been doing some extracurricular work herself. They say she's made some friends in the philosophy department."
"An attractive woman, Abby," Dr. Grover said. "I'm looking forward to seeing both of them at their party tonight. Particularly looking forward to seeing Abby."
"Yes, and I'm particularly looking forward to seeing Mike."
"Well, in that case well both probably enjoy ourselves, that is, if the rumors are true."
"Rumors are always true," Linda Grover said.
The head of the English department and his wife arrived at the Dalko house on campus at approximately nine o'clock. Abby was radiant as she greeted them at the door dressed in a low-cut cocktail dress, and Mike was jovial as he served drinks at the bar. Peter and Linda Grover considered this a normal state of affairs, but even though they were liberal types, they were nonetheless surprised to find twenty students from Mike's creative writing classes sitting around naked in the living room listening to classical music as they smoked marijuana cigarettes. Even more surprising was that several male members of the philosophy department had joined the others in their nudity.
Abby did the introductions of the Grovers to the students, and then leaving Linda with Mike, guided Pete upstairs to her bedroom.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said. "This is a costume party. Everyone decided to come naked. I hope you have no hang-ups on that score."
"Certainly not. I enjoy being naked, especially in a well-heated room."
"You know, I still remember that night you made a pass at me. I think it might be nice if we screwed before going downstairs."
An appreciative smile formed on Pete Grover's thin lips as he watched Abby slipping down the straps of her dress and reaching around behind for the zipper. It was about time the Dalkos got into the swing of things on campus, he thought. Of course, they might have gone a bit too far inviting students, but what the hell. The more the merrier. Previously all swinging activities had been confined to faculty members by the unwritten ukase of the college president. But it was the obligation of intellectuals to set out in new directions, and this was exactly what the Dalkos had done.
In a moment they had both stripped away their clothes and Abby led him to the bed.
"Ummmh," she murmured. I'm going to enjoy this. I've been waiting a long time."
"That little vacation you took must have done wonders," Pete commented.
"Yes, it was good to get away for awhile. But let's not get into analyzing things."
"As you wish."
Abby laced her arms around the professor's neck and locked her mouth tightly against his, her tongue wiggling into the warm depths of his mouth. She could feel his penis hardening between his legs and eagerly reached down between their bodies to circle her fingers around it. It certainly wasn't as large and hard as Russ's had been, but it was growing stiffer by the second. She closed her thighs around it, enveloping it in the soft folds of her flesh.
"It's a shame we didn't do this before."
"There's no time for regrets," Pete Grover said. "The important thing is that we're doing it now. You've certainly changed a lot. I didn't think you two would ever come around."
"Mike and I came to an agreement," Abby said. "Ever since he came here to teach, he's been feeling, well, bored. And when we went up to Maine we had some experiences that changed our lives. We decided we're going to enjoy ourselves from now on."
Pete Grover chuckled.
"I see you've come to the same agreement that Linda and I came to some years ago.
Teaching at a small college can be an ideal existence, but it can also be awfully boring. In fact, perhaps it's too ideal. There are no worries once you've achieved tenure; you can circulate in a closed community of your peers, but then there's a real lack of stimulation. Unless of course, you've found your own stimulations."
"Stimulate me, Dr. Grover," Abby said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was two weeks later and Abby said, "What do you mean? Out of the blue you tell me your sister's daughter is coming to live with us for a month or two? Why?"
"My sister's husband has gone into bankruptcy, that's why," her husband replied. "The girl is eighteen, she's no child anymore, and it's the least I can do for my sister. They've lost everything. For Chrissakes, Abby, I'd do the same thing for one of your relatives."
Abby was still shaking her head when Mike left for the airport to pick his niece up. He didn't care. There was so much he didn't care about lately.
"You've become a beautiful girl, Cindy" Mike said when he met his niece at the airport.
"Do you really mean that?" the teenager asked, spinning around to show him all of her, her flared skirt swirling up, giving him a provocative look at her long slender legs. "I've looked forward so to coming to live with you and Aunt Abby. And I promise, I'll be a very good girl."
To himself, Mike said, Yes, you little bundle of torment, I'll bet you're going to be very good! Let me take you to some swank restaurant to impress you first, get a few drinks into you to relax you and then up to my office where I'll find out just how good you're going to be!
The thought of screwing his own sister's daughter had Mike's blood pumping hotly as they rode out of the airport, Mike's big black car purring along toward the college. He stopped at a fancy restaurant and bought the young girl drinks and dinner. He had a plan. Before taking her home to meet Abby, they would stop off at his impressive offices at the English department of the college. The offices would be closed, empty tonight. A perfect spot for what he had in mind.
Cindy stood in awe of the luxury of the vast suite of offices. Her mother had told her that Uncle Mike was rich, but she never imagined anything like this! Mike opened a bottle and mixed her another drink. She sipped it,, her mind spinning a little faster. They sat side by side on the huge couch in the inner offices.
Cindy innocently wanted Uncle Mike to desire her. More accurate, she wanted him to love her, approve of her. But she didn't know she was driving him. crazy when she crossed her legs so that her skirt barely covered her thighs. It was an uncontrollable action when his warm lips found hers, and without being aware of what she did, Cindy darted her tongue between his lips and into his mouth, searching eagerly for his tongue. The kiss lasted a long time and when it broke Mike nudged her backward gently, her skirt rising higher, exposing her pink panties. Uncle Mike tenderly placed his hand on her bare leg, fondling with experienced fingers. A finger crept higher and higher, and the young girl automatically parted her legs. The persistent finger touched her almost-virgin pussy and she began to sigh. She placed her trembling little hand on his throbbing cock and that did it. In minutes he had her naked on the couch, laying down face down, her firm little buttocks squirming high in the air. It was no longer Mike's finger that was busy at her body ... it was his tongue! Mike's tongue had gained itself quite a reputation. This was his own niece! The warm, tantalizing strokes of that tongue now had Cindy sighing, moaning, all relaxed and ready for anything he had in mind. He dragged his tongue deeply, wetly along the deep crack.
"Aggggh!" she cried, thrashing. "Uggg ohhhh, God, so weird and goooooood...." she sobbed.
And then, after tongue-lashing the crack between the juicy halves of her buttocks, he moved his face back down toward the crack in her pussy mound. He pressed his face forward and his open lips covered her pulsing slit with a wet kiss. He turned her over and she straddled his face.
"Oh, God!" she screamed. "My pussy! You're killing it! Eat it, kiss it, love it, ohhhh!"
She squirmed heatedly, trying to shove her heated mound closer to his lips. And then she gasped as his long, wet tongue slid easily and suddenly between her crack, slid in, digging deeply and gently between the lips of her cunt. She jerked her hips convulsively as she felt the hot contact of his lips and tongue on her slit. Her body was jolted with an involuntary spasm of shivering delight. She jammed her buttocks back against his face and ground her cunt against his lips, sobbing and crying out and cursing obscenely, no longer the calm, virginal girl that she seemed to be just hours before.
She felt his tongue slide in between the pink folds of her cunt. She began to contract and open her pussy lips on the tongue as it moved with a long, smooth dart, sinking deeply inside her vagina.
"Mike, darling!" she screamed. "Your lips! Your tongue! Ohhhh, darling, lover, eat me! Eat me alive!"
She was gasping and mewing and grunting and twisting about in ecstasy. Her cunt was impaled on his long, diving tongue. She felt his tongue licking, fluttering, curling deep inside her pussy. His wet lips were open and sucking as his tongue speared in and out between the creaming lips of her cunt. He was sucking and licking moistly and noisily, greedily, driving her into a frenzy. Her buttocks were swaying over his face, out of control, as she ground her cunt against his mouth, thrilling to the contact of his sucking lips and his driving, fucking tongue.
"God, it's wonderful," she sobbed.
She was completely surrendered to the thrill of his licking and sucking. His tongue plunged and withdrew as he tasted the heat and juice of her steaming sweet young-girl sauces.
Cindy could hear the wet sucking noise as his tongue flicked wickedly, expertly in and out of her gaping pussy hole. The sound thrilled her. She began to moan constantly as his tongue lashed over her slit, caressed her hard clitoris bud, licked it, curled around it, driving her wild. His face was buried between her heaving thighs as he sucked and teased, using his lips and teeth and tongue avidly on her pussy. She writhed under his tormenting mouth, churning her buttocks, squirming her mound wildly.
"Ohh," she sobbed, loving the delicious sucking and tonguing of her cunt Mike was getting his own satisfaction as he felt the lips of her pussy contract and relax, squeezing his tongue as it drove in and out of her mound. The cheeks of her ass were rotating and tightly clenched with passion.
To Mike, her young, tender steaming cunt seemed like a flower, unfolding, opening as he sucked on it. The lips of her pussy stretched open wider and wider to give greater access to his fucking tongue. He could feel the wetness of her pussy juice on his cheeks as he hungered between her thighs. Her thighs moved raggedly in rhythm with his pricking tongue which swirled between her pussy lips like a living snake.
"Mike, I'm going to come!" she screamed.
He could feel the increasing abandon of the girl in the way her cunt was grinding with greater and greater tempo.
And then she came.
"Aggggggh!" she screamed. She felt as if she were going to explode. Tremors gripped her pussy. Orgasm followed orgasm as juice flowed hotly from her cunt. Mike lapped it up and fucked on and on with his long tongue. She shivered all over as she came, and he continued to eat eagerly between her quaking thighs.
And then she fell back, limp, spent, satisfied. No high school boy back in Nebraska had ever satisfied her like this.
But Mike wasn't through with her yet.
"Beautiful, so beautiful, Mike," she purred, gasping for breath.
He rolled her over onto her back, and she lay spread-eagle beneath him, panting, helpless to defend herself.
"What ... whaaa ... what are you ... going to do?" she panted. .
"I'm going to make love to you," he said softly.
"Ohh, Mike, but your prick is so big. It'll ... tear me in two. It's so big and hard!"
"Hush. Relax. Enjoy yourself, darling," he whispered.
"Ohhh, Mike, I can't stand any more. My cunt's tingling and aching from your wonderful lips ... and tongue ... it can't take any more. No-"
"Yes!"
"Oh, no, please ... you'll kill me ... I can't take any more ... I'll die!"
"Hush."
He moved over her, covering her thrashing body with his. He prepared to mount her, to ram his huge, hard cock into her creaming, vulnerable, soft cunt.
"Are you going to ... fuck me with that hard big cock of yours?" she asked in a little panting voice.
"Yes, I am, darling, and you're going to love it," he grinned as he moved his body over her, fitting his body over her trembling, youthful, lovely form.
He began to rub the hard and knobby head of his prick over the creamy lips of her tingling cunt. She sobbed and sighed at the feel-of his huge instrument, so thick and blunt, rubbing teasingly over the parted cunt lips. The wet lips of her pussy contracted and throbbed like a sucking mouth around the rubbing tip of his cock. He feasted his eyes on her naked, submissive, beauty, savoring this moment before he took her completely.
His cock and testicles ached, swollen, ready to burst. Her trembling, lovely thighs yawned wide apart as she waited, panting, for the inthrust of his huge cock. He probed his cock over the wet, soft folds of her cunt, parting her pubic hair, completely exposing her wet slit.
He sighed and took a good deep breath. She was so young and tender, slithering now as she lay sprawled beneath him, her hips squirming involuntarily. He surged his hips forward. The wet, warm flesh of her pussy lips cringed apart before the piercing drive of his giant cock. His cock smashed in between the cunt lips. She was wet and hot and tight down there and her pussy lips clung tightly to his surging cock as it drove in.
"Aggggh!" she grunted. "You'll rip me open!" she screamed in pain and terror ... and fierce pleasure.
His cock surged into her. The walls of her vagina gave way and her pussy lips stretched wider than they ever had to give entrance to his tool. He gasped as his cock sunk in to its hilt, his swollen balls coming to rest against the deep cleft of her buttocks.
"Mike, you're filling my burning pussy to bursting!" she cried out. "Oh, Uncle Mike, Uncle Mike! Uh ... uhhhhh ... Oh!"
He thrilled to feel the walls of her cunt contracting tightly around his cock as it drove all the way into her. She began to tremble and sob with pain and pleasure. Her joy at having his great cock deep inside her was unrestrained. She thrust her cunt against him and they began to move, undulate together, his cock sliding in and out, very, very slowly, completing the rape of this young and beautiful girl.
Her thighs were spread wide apart and her legs laced around his waist, the heels of her feet kicking with passion at his back, urging him on. His cock began to tunnel up into her cunt, then slid back out again, teasing her.
"You're so lovely, so nice and warm and tight," he whispered to her as he slowly fucked her.
"I'm not ... afraid," she gasped. "You're so warm, so gentle."
She was wet and open. She was squealing with lurid delight. His cock began to skewer and probe in and out of her throbbing cunt. Her cunt was so hot and flowingly ready for this, so well prepared by the suck of his lips and the lick of his tongue.
"Fuck me, Mike, lover, kill me!" she cried.
Her dilated vagina accepted the assault of his giant prick. She loved the heavy weight of his body on her. She hugged him close and ground her cunt up and down, meeting his cock stroke for stroke, buttocks slick and heaving, slapping up and down on the soft cushions of the couch. The heavy weight of his strong legs crushed her as he sank his cock deep inside her. She groaned and sobbed, hardly able to catch her breath. Her body was churning beneath his, matching the fast tempo of his fucking.
Her cunt was stretched as wide open as it was possible to be and it felt as if he had shoved a log in. She clenched the muscles of her buttocks tightly together and screwed her ass around and around as she heaved her lovely body beneath him. She loved the raping feel of his fleshy staff deep in the tunnel of her vagina.
"Fuck me!" she screamed. "I love it! Oh, you wonderful love, you wonderful man! ... fuck me, harder, faster, fuck me!" she cried lewdly. "Stuff me full, Uncle Mike!"
Her cunt muscles clasped wetly and warmly on his battering cock. Her pussy melted like honey before the shove of his great scarlet cock, now reddened and slick from jamming in and out of her. She fucked him back, inspired, out of her mind with joy, and she was fast becoming a whimpering, moaning, revolving lunatic!
She loved the throbbing of his cock inside her. Her back began to hurt as she thrashed her hips up and down, meeting him, keeping tempo with him. Her hip joints were getting sore. Her cunt lips were aflame with pain and delicious tingles. As he fucked her wildly, he slipped his hands under her slick, gyrating buttocks, cupping them. Then his finger sought and found her anus. He thrust his finger deep into the tight opening. She screamed with pain, never before having been invaded in such a way. His finger began to fuck in and out of her asshole in the same rhythm as his cock was stabbing in and out of her flaming, clinging pussy.
After a moment, she got used to the double impalement, and began to love it. She loved the intrusion of his blunt fingers deep in her anus.
"Fuck me in the ass and the cunt, lover!" she screamed, nearly out of her mind with joy.
It was a double rape of the girl. The thick finger was jabbing in and out of her rectum as his cock jabbed in and out of her creaming, throbbing pussy. His cock circled round and round as it plunged in and out of her slit, and his finger did too, in her back passageway. As he fucked her two ways at once, he sucked avidly on her bouncing tits, driving her nearly to distraction. He took her with long, lunging strokes, and she sobbed and cried out for more, loving the pleasure and the pain of the double fucking.
The moist sheath of her sucking, stretched pussy lips throbbed over the invading thickness of his prick. He was bending her to his will, making her his little love slave, body and soul. He was establishing his rhythm over her in the most basic way known to man.
In and out of her his cock stroked with power, while his finger jabbed in and out of her rectum at the same time. The wet smack of flesh against flesh filled the room; the wet suck of her creamy pussy lips on his cock joined the juicy sound of fucking. She screamed and moaned and bucked beneath him, nearing her end, knowing that he was nearing his, too, sunk deep into her, and she too was instantly triggered into her final battering climax. Her pussy lips sucked, holding his cock captive, squeezing every drop from her wonderful uncle's body.
And then her thighs were wet and lax, lying locked like that for long, heavy breathing moments before Cindy whispered "Oh God! If Mother or Aunt Abby ever find out...."
"Your mother won't, and your Aunt Abby wouldn't care," Mike said. "Your Aunt and I live our own separate lives now. But let's not think about it. Let's think about us!"
While her husband was out having his fun, Abby was by no means playing the saintly wife. She had changed. It was a well-known fact that the wife of the English prof was just about the wildest lay on campus. She had been balled by ten or twelve of the senior class, but one in particular had caught her fancy. His name was Andy. He was a poor kid from a slum area, and was in college only by means of a Basic Opportunity Grant (BOG). He had balled her once in the privacy of her bedroom, while Mike taught class. Ever since, she had not been the same. She had become the youth's slave, and young Andy knew it.
"Next time you come to my home grounds for your servicing, whore" he snarled at her. "You want more you come to me, at my clubhouse in Brooklyn, and whether you like it or not, there'll be some of my friends watchin'. I dunno. Maybe that'll turn you on more. Who knows about cunts like you!"
And so it was that on this same night, forced along on the tide of her dark, invidious mania, guided unerringly by instinct past unfamiliar landmarks into the uncharted setting, she arrived at the grubby facade of the corner shop above which flickered the broken neon tracings of the sign, EAST NEW YORK DEVILS. Her small white hand gripped the worn handle of the sagging screen door, and like a junkie approaching the last source, the only possibility of dispeling the mindless torment which ravaged her, she entered, hoping, wanting, praying.
A galaxy of eyes shone at her as she walked along the counter which ran down one side of the sleazy establishment. But she saw only the familiar face, the harsh countenance she had counted on being there. Only when Andy's eyes gave no sign of changing expression, of admitting to the interest, amusement, or suspicion that flickered around her, did she take steps that became uncertain until she stopped falteringly before him where he leaned on one of the row of antiquated amusement machines. Still, her eyes held steady, greeting him, beseeching him, imploring him, revealing the nakedness of her soul, the bankruptcy of her being to his indifferent gaze.
"Well," he drawled at last, spitting something casually off his tongue as he cocked his head and nodded at her in a manner that seemed to say: "All right, little bitch, you've made the delivery, now beat it!" Still she stood in front of him, only the restless shifting of her weight from foot to foot revealing the turbulence within her.
"What do you want?" His voice was cold, as though she'd interrupted a meeting of his board of directors.
"A-Andy?" she quavered, trying out the name that had been mushrooming in her mind, and body since the minute she felt his warmth. His expression didn't rebut her finding. "Andy ... please, can we...?" The incongruous tone of her voice echoed through the new silence now. She looked around, wanting to communicate to him her raging desire to be someplace else with him other than where they were-a poorly lit establishment featuring lazy, bug-ridden fans and cracked, curling slabs of ancient linoleum. But now the two of them had been surrounded by a curious circle of leather-jacketed, black-jeaned youths, their faces a study in grotesquely hairy and soiled eccentricity.
"Niiiiice!" a voice said, and Abby turned halfway around, regretting the move at once as it was impossible to tell which sneering, insolent, or cunningly rapt face had offered the comment.
"Friend of yours?" a short, stocky companion asked superciliously, a black eyebrow angling like a worm up his forehead.
"Never mind. C'mon. Everybody out in the alley." They all followed him, including Abby.
Standing before him in the alley, she undid the dress neck straps, as she let her mind drift back to the fucking at the college, remembering how the horny boy had gone for her breasts. And then the low-slung brassiere slid off, baring her delectable pale boobs to the welcome cool of the night air.
"Mart, she's really horny, dig that!"
"I know! What a pair!"
"Get it on, baby!"
Abby stared steadily at Andy, both of them ignoring the ogling of her naked back and out-thrust breasts. What her eyes were telling him was the truth: his friends were reversing the polarity of master-by raving over her stunning nakedness, the way she bared herself to them, they were lowering themselves to her.
And Andy understood it all with the natural awareness of leadership. "Take the rest off. What you do for me you do for any of my buds here," he told her, letting the message sink in, adding with his eyes that there was no hope of amendment or loophole; he really meant it. If it happened to be his pleasure, she would crawl to any of these filthy gloating strangers just as she was now crawling to him.
She stared into, his face, feeding on his eyes with the blank, dutiful look of a subservient child. Abby pushed the dress down, automatically ruining the expensive apparel by letting it fall to. the filth-encrusted concrete. She unclasped her bra and was going to drop that, but one of the spectators snatched it from her hand and began stretching it, toying with it impatiently. She worked her half-slip down over her hips, stooping to push it off her thighs, her breasts swinging forward, dusky nipples dancing in the naked light. She stood up, excitingly naked but for the scanty armor of her panties, the sheen of her stockings, her shoes, earrings, and jewelry.
Andy looked impassively at her body. To her, a neutral look like that from the man she was throwing herself at was a negative look, a disapproving look. Quickly, only now aware that she was blushing uncontrollably from a lifetime's habit of modesty, never so flouted even in her maddest fantasies, she shucked off the silk triangle of her panties and her hose, standing naked, her feet curling at the contact with the rubble of glass and crud on the cold concrete.
Chilly as the night air was on her body, she felt feverishly hot, as if each pair of eyes that inspected her lithe, supple body were a pair of arc lamps focused on her, matching the molten heat that flamed within her.
"Sweetheart, you can fuck with us any old time, hot shit!"
"Look at that little pussy, really ready for it!"
"Ready? Shit! She's a fuckin' nympho. Come on, rich bitch."
Abby shivered, not at the swill that was being mouthed at her, but at the thrill it gave her to realize the lewdness of this secret night. Kneeling down, she drew the gang leader's twitching, half-flaccid cock into her mouth, lasciviously ton gum g the excruciatingly sensitive spot directly beneath the velvety head. Then, convulsively squeezing the youth's lust-tightened balls. She engulfed him with one brain-shattering motion. Abby sucked, thrilled by the eyes of those who were so inflamed by the picture of the kneeling slender body burying her head in their leader's genital region. They had extracted their own tools, fondling and gripping them. And she suctioned, straining her head back against Andy's grip to avoid sucking the penis down her windpipe. He let her back off, giving her her head, as it were, as she obediently blended the sucking exertion, hollowing her cheeks beneath the high bones of her face, with more tentative caresses of her tongue tip, attempting to define and outline the image that mind still thrilled at forming-a prick in her mouth, eyes watching.
Slipping and sliding in the cool clasping suction of her mouth, it stirred. She felt it. Her mouth had to open wider. There was something growing between her lips, an expanding bulk shaping her mouth into an obscene oval, a pressure against the back of her throat as the crown of the engorging joint ballooned and inflated. She was driven back, the breath whistling through her nostrils, excited now that she had crossed over the abyss of unimaginable pleasure and was stimulating her man to just the condition she ached for.
Her tongue tested the amazing dimensions the cock was swelling to, flicking this way and that in examination of its elongation, the flaring tension of the dome, the hard cording of the veins, the rounded profile of the conduit that ran the length of its burgeoning underside, the granite stoniness of the entire shaft. And then, aware that this must be part of it, that Andy would welcome the tricks of her tongue just as she had swooned under the divine sensations of male mouths and tongues licking her breasts, Abby began abandoning her timidity, circling with her oral organ until she resolved on a saucy pattern of titillation; alternate stroking and revolving of her tongue around the taut, blunt dome of the rising shaft.
Up she came, stretching her body to accommodate the now incredibly long, thickened prick, and as Andy let go, her head began bobbing even faster.
She didn't hear the lewd exclamations and comments of admiration from the onlookers, or even Andy's perfunctory grunts of pleasure. Abby didn't notice several of the young men standing over her, their fists flying up and down over their twitching blood-filled cocks. She didn't dare to leave him, to break the rhythm of her pitiful enslavement either out of her mounting desire, or her fear. Abby gripped the backs of his thighs, then his buttocks, holding onto him as her head jerked up and down in a blur, her hair flying, a series of incoherent grunts dribbling from her lips as streaks of saliva trickled down the rigid organ. She was constantly sucking, pulling draughts from his body as though his pulsing penis were a, lifeline, her chest heaving, flanks running with glistening sweat, knees grinding.
A splash, hot and thick upon the back of her neck. And she thrilled! And then, too, on side. And from close by, right at her face, splashing against her cheek. From every side, the exploding rods of his companions erupted in carefully aimed jets of masculine seed, burning like tar against her naked body, covering her with ejaculated lust as Andy held her and held her, keeping her bent and beaten until her mouth had received the last drops the volcanic balls had to offer.
Oh, in the end it all worked out just as it was supposed to. Mike grew tired of silly young girls, his niece went back home to her father and mother, and Abby gave up the ego trip of being "the wildest lay on campus." One night, after Mike had accepted the position of vice president in an "old line" New York publishing house he looked at his beautiful wife and simply asked, "Enough, Abby?"
Abby agreed. She smiled and said, "Enough." Hand in hand, they headed for the bedroom. And does it sound too corny to say they actually DID live happily ever after?
Maybe so. But Oh! Did they ever, always have memories!
