Nick Prescott felt both bored and vaguely ill at ease. He kept wondering what was happening in Room 712. Ever since the Marnham couple had checked into the hotel earlier that evening, he had felt a kind of unvoiced suspicion, as if something was happening, something he ought to be able to witness or at least find out about. He had been sitting in the lobby, eying a girl in a checkered dress. She wasn't aware of his piercing inquisitive stare as he looked at her over the edge of his newspaper.
The girl had been looking nervously at her watch for the past half-hour and when she suddenly got up and made a dash to the revolving door and the street beyond, Nick sighed, weary and disappointed.
Nothing ever clicks, he thought, sitting back in his seat. The girl had the kind of sharp arrogant features that he got off on. Now, he watched her high round ass moving away from him. The glass doors turned and she was a blur, no longer visible in the violet city night behind the entrance to the Hotel Wilde.
"I should have known better," he said to himself, one hand creeping down to his crotch. Sure enough, she had turned him on. His hard-on rose up, a long thick projection which he tried to adjust. Then he got up from his chair and sauntered across the lobby to the front desk.
"What's going on up there?" he asked Ryan, the corpulent young man who worked as night clerk.
Ryan looked up at the house detective with a curious gleam in his eyes. "Where, Prescott? This whole place is full of freaks, as it is."
"Up on seven. Room 712."
"Oh, that couple who checked in earlier. What makes you think they're carrying on?" Ryan asked.
"Everyone carries on, prick," Nick spat out, annoyed at what he felt was the young man's apparent innocence. "You haven't lived enough, Ryan. Wait. You'll learn a lot sitting behind that desk. There are more freaks in this town, this country for that matter, than you'd ever imagine. Take my word for it. I know. I've been around too long."
Sure, Prescott thought. Too long. Much too long. I should get out now while the goings still good. Get away from all this crap. Build myself a little place and forget my name. Nick Prescott, ace chump of all time.
He hooked his thumb around the skeleton key that lay on top of Ryan's desk. With that, he kept sauntering, straight towards the elevator.
Nick Prescott was a naturally curious man. As he pressed the button for seven, not bothering to wait for the elevator man to take him upstairs, the doors closed behind him and he leaned against one wall of the car, wondering if the girl he had seen in the lobby would return. He hadn't asked Ryan if she was a guest or not, but now, he just couldn't get her out of his mind.
"Those same haunted eyes," he said aloud. The memory was unpleasant. He shelved the past with a shrug and a grimace, thinking of all the years he had wasted working for the Hotel Wilde. Eight years now, he realized. First as a bell-boy, then a night clerk like Ryan, finally promoted to house dick on his thirtieth birthday, two years before.
But for some time now he had wanted out. He was tired of hotel food and waking up alone every morning. The job failed to quell his restlessness, despite the singular clientele who came and went, keeping him constantly busy, constantly on his toes. The hotel had a reputation for leniency and it was known for the rather wild excesses of its guests, more often erotic than not.
It was Nick's job to keep everything cool, to keep the eyes of the police as far away from the hotel as possible. Anything could-and usually did-happen, so long as the cops never found out. His boss had told him that the first day on the job. It was a kind of credo, a statement of purpose Nick was never allowed to forget.
Now, he tried his best not to think of the girl whose long supple legs had caused more than a passing tremor in his loins. He stepped out on seven, cocking his head to one side. The Marnham's had aroused his suspicions from the very start. Mr. Marnham, a tall and powerfully built middle-aged man, had come into the hotel, his wife following close behind.
She was a rather pale and frightened looking woman, weighed down by a huge steamer trunk she dragged along with her. Marnham had refused the services of a bell-hop and he had told the clerk on duty that he did not want to be disturbed.
Prescott had seen them come in and he walked down the corridor, remembering the strange harried glance Mrs. Marnham had given him, a glance that had seemed two parts sexual and one part anguish. He stopped at Room 712, sucked in his breath, thought of the girl who had literally run out of the lobby, and knocked on the door. He heard voices whispering from inside the room.
Mrs. Marnham finally moved towards the door, calling out, "Who's there please?"
"It's Nick Prescott, ma'am. Customer relations," he lied.
She opened the door a crack and even through the narrow space Nick could see how strangely she was dressed. Through a long diaphanous nightgown he found himself opening his eyes wide to see, plainly visible beneath her negligee, that she was wearing black mesh stockings and a rather frilly and elaborate black lace garter belt.
That was pleasant in itself, but what struck him as particularly unusual was that Mrs. Marnham, frail and pallid looking, was wearing high black leather boots, boots with spike heels at least six inches long. "Can I help you?" she whispered as he openly ogled her strange and rather bizarre costume.
More nuts, he thought to himself, saying, "I was just making sure all you and your husband's needs were being taken care of." He kept glancing down to her crotch, able to see wisps of light brown hair coming out of the edges of her garter belt.
Not bad, he thought. A little bony, flat-chested maybe, but not bad in a clinch. Quickly, Prescott put his hands in front of his crotch, feeling his massive cock throbbing painfully. It always happens like this, he thought to himself, knowing how little he could control his sexual drives once they went into gear.
As he pressed his hands against the rising bulge behind the fly of his trousers, Mr. Marnham's tall muscular figure rose up behind his wife, blocking the doorway. "What can I do for you, bud?" he asked in a surly and derogatory way.
Prescott felt the color rising in his cheeks. "Just making sure you were comfortable," he said.
"We're doing fine. And we don't enjoy being disturbed," Mr. Marnham replied stiffly, slamming the door in his face.
Nick was infuriated, but he stood there, fingering the key in his pocket. Then he laughed soundlessly, knowing that he had the upper hand. Who the fuck does he think he is? he thought, seeing Marnham's face once again, the tall bear-like man hovering over his wife, smirking at Prescott.
Quickly, his resolve making him walk with determination, Nick used the skeleton key to gain admittance into Room 714, right next to the Marnham's. Fortunately, the room was not occupied and he walked quietly to the wall which adjoined both rooms, Removing a painting of a pastoral scene which was duplicated in nearly every room in the hotel, Prescott found what he was looking for.
Few guests knew of the peepholes, for they had been installed when the hotel had remodeled several years before. Thanks to the voyeuristic tastes of the Wilde's owners, the house detective was able to do a little freelance spying, knowing that the intricate flocked wallpaper pattern would just about make his peering blinking eye invisible.
But before he did anything else, his hand dropped to his sides. He suddenly thought he realized something about the girl he had seen in the lobby. That face, he thought. I know I've seen it before. The girl had a small strawberry right above the bridge of her nose. Prescott had thought that it made her face look vulnerable, for other than that one small blemish, she was cold and haughty, a cool bitch who knew what she had and how to use it. But the eyes were frightened and now, as he stood by the wall, it came to him that several weeks before a middle-aged woman with dyed jet-black hair had come in demanding a room.
She also had that mark, Prescott thought, wondering if the two were related. The woman had not stayed long, two or three days in all, before she had hastily departed. Maybe they were looking for each other, he wondered. There's more to this than I know about.
A sharp moan from the Marnham's room brought him to attention. Working adeptly, he removed the eyehole and pressed his face to the wall, able to command a total and unhampered view into Room 712. He saw Mr. Marnham emerge from the bathroom, dressed in a bathrobe. His feet were bare, his thighs muscular and hairy. "You gave him the eye, all right," he told his wife.
Mrs. Marnham sat on the edge of the bed. She had apparently been crying, for Prescott saw that her eyes were reddened, her cheeks moist with tears she had tried to dry with the back of her hand. She looked even more pallid and morose than he had originally thought.
She glanced up, biting down on her lower lip, "And why shouldn't I have?" she said defiantly. "He looked marvelously sexy, although when it comes to the meat and potatoes department, my dear, you've got them all beat."
Prescott wondered what she meant. Marnham laughed at his wife's private joke and moved towards the bed. Then, with a vicious and sudden backhand slap, he crashed his hand down across her face. "Kneel," he told her, arrogant, laughing sadistically.
Mrs. Marnham did as she was told and Nick's heart began to beat wildly as he watched the strange scene unfolding before him. Already, he could see something tenting up the front of Mr. Marnham's terry cloth bathrobe, something that gave promise of satisfying any of his wife's physical (and perhaps even emotional) needs.
She looked up at her husband, her wide-opened eyes reminding Prescott-once again, he thought, annoyed at what seemed to be a growing mania, an obsession on his part-of the girl he had seen in the lobby. Both of them frightened, both of them somewhat cowed and broken in spirit. No wonder, he thought to himself, eying her husband uneasily.
Mr. Marnham looked down at his wife, assuming a smirk of arrogance. His bold glance seemed to strip her naked and he kept laughing. He was well over six feet tall and his hair was dark black, curling down behind his ears, ending in thick scraggly sideburns. His eyes were dark as well, large pools of liquid tar, complementing his firm and strong looking body. The top of the robe was opened, exposing the dark curling hairs on his powerful chest.
Who'd want to mess with him? Nick thought as he saw Marnham rubbing himself nervously, twisting his chest hairs around one finger. His wife's small perky tits heaved up and down on her chest and she kept leaning backwards, as if to get away from him.
Nick was fast getting aroused. Just looking at the strangely dressed woman gave him a hard-on. His cock was still throbbing, but now it burned with a strong insistent itch that traveled up and down the length of his burgeoning shaft. He wanted a piece, a piece of the action as well. But he knew that all he could do was bide his time and see what would happen.
"What do you say, my dear?" Marnham asked his wife.
"Please ... please let me have what I deserve," she whimpered. But despite her obvious discomfort, her nipples were growing longer, turning taut and firm beneath her negligee. Prescott stared at them, his hand slipping into his trouser pocket to slowly and methodically rub against his huge pulsating cock.
Why? he thought. Why do I always end up like this? Why can't I have someone of my own, someone who'll care? He thought of all the years he felt he had wasted, all the lonely days and nights he had dreamed and longed for someone to be there for him. It was for this reason that the girl in the lobby kept coming to mind. Nick knew that she reminded him of the one woman he had ever exposed his guts to, the one woman he had ever cared about.
"Have what?" Marnham went on. "What do you want to have?"
"Your meat," she whispered. "Give me your meat on a silver platter."
Prescott could imagine Mrs. Marnham's fright, but he also sensed that she was well versed in her role. He suspected that she was getting increasingly excited as her brutish husband stood over her, the front of his bathrobe bulging with his still unrevealed erection.
Indeed, he was not far from the truth.
For Mrs. Marnham was certainly getting aroused. She could feel the familiar stirrings of desire ebbing through her loins and her clit was tingling, growing erect and throbbing as her juices began to ooze down the walls of her box.
She looked up at her husband, studying his body with practiced and unabashed lust, slowly slipping her tongue out to lick her lips, nervous and impatient.
"Tell me more," he went on.
"Show me it," she went on. "Yes, let me see what you have to punish me with. You're the only man in the world for me, Marnham."
Her husband seemed pleased and his lips curled back in a snicker of approval.
With a single abrupt motion he undid his robe, pulled it off and revealed his huge and thickly veined cock. "Is this what you want?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down the length of his massive swelling dong.
Mrs. Marnham gasped with delight. The sight of her husband's body, and his cock in particular, never failed to arouse her. His firm hairy body, his enormous penis, his arrogant manner, all combined to seduce her into total submission.
She kept looking as it seemed to grow before her very eyes. Her excitement mounted proportionately and every time he rubbed his dick with his hands, her pussy itched, unbearably hungry for his meat.
Marnham's skin rippled with his strength, his muscles bulged and his cock stood out like a huge fat handle of flesh between his thick-set hairy thighs. He moved forward, the fist-like head of his dick inches away from his wife's face.
"What do you say now?" he asked.
"Please," she whispered. "Let me."
With a loud and savage laugh, he pulled her hair back, forcing her to open her mouth. Triumphant, grinning maniacally, he began to stuff his hose right down her throat. His wife began to choke, gurgling frantically as her husband kept pushing forward, slamming more and more of his huge hot poker of a cock down her throat. His laughter didn't subside, but grew louder until she had every last fucking inch between her lips, her nose rubbing against his thick hairy pubic bush.
"Now suck, my little cunt, my dirty little pussy. You liked the guy who came to the door and now you'll like this even better." And saying that, he began to pump vigorously, thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth.
She struggled to breathe, reaching up to run her hands up and down his legs, tasting the musky pervading male smell about him, feeling the thick stiff shaft drilling in and out of her mouth. She wanted more, everything, and her cunt hairs were already matted with the juices of her insistent desire.
But she knew enough to keep quiet, realizing that her husband could not be rushed, that one had to go by the rules of his strange erotic pseudo-sadistic games before satisfaction could be achieved.
"Suck harder, bitch!" he yelled, lashing out at her, his buttocks quivering as he kept humping into her mouth, moaning with rising delight. "Play with my nuts, while you're at it."
His wife did as she was told.
Quickly, even as her husband kept shoving his hips forward, slamming his cock in and out of her lips, her fingers came up to fondle his balls. The heavy furry and wrinkled sac swayed between his thighs and she toyed with his balls as she sucked in her cheeks, working on his dick.
As for Prescott, whose eye was to the peephole, watching with delight and astonishment, it was all too lovely to describe. Not even realizing what he was doing, he pulled down the zipper to his fly, rummaged around inside and, with considerable difficulty, pulled out his cock.
Although not as large or unwieldy as Marnham's, it stood up a good eight inches, thick and tipped with a crimson cock-head. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he began to work his slobber up and down the length of his tool, still watching the goings on in Room 712.
Finally, Marnham pulled his cock away and ordered his wife to take off her clothes. "Make it snappy," he railed out at her as she quickly pulled her night-gown over her head, exposing the two firm mounds which had first attracted Prescott's attention.
She rolled down her stockings, her thighs ivory-white and supple. Prescott kept watching, kneading and whacking off his cock as Mrs. Marnham removed her garter belt and revealed her pussy, covered with light brown curls which formed a ragged triangle surrounding her mons.
Her husband was more than appreciative.
He could see the tiny pointed knob of her clitoris poking up from between the lips of her pussy. "You're hot for me, aren't you?" he said, staring down between her legs, looking intently at the damp thatch which covered her snatch.
"Do it, Joey," she whispered. "Yes. Give me what I deserve. I've been bad. I need to be punished with your cock."
"You will be," he assured her as she moaned faintly, looking at this penis as he pushed her onto the bed and wrenched her thighs apart. Prescott felt the blood throbbing in his temples and in his penis, rhythmic pulsations which only grew more insistent the more he jerked himself off.
Mr. Marnham gave a short dog-like laugh, almost a bark, and knelt down between his wife's open thighs. His penis was huge and bristling, straining with life. The head was a fiery red as it stood out between the hairy firmness of his legs.
With both of his hands, he began to touch and tickle his wife's twat. He pulled apart the rosy swelling lips of her cunt, exposing the small pulsating knob of her clitoris. Taking it between his thumb and forefinger, he began to frig her as Prescott remained hidden, his eye blinking as he stared at the juicy gaping opening of the woman's luscious hole.
It was a sight to make him tremble and his hands raced up and down the length of his tool. He began to gasp with growing fervor, his nuts tingling and tightening as his sexual excitement continued to mount. Although he had done this kind of thing before-spying on various hotel guests-it never failed to arouse him.
To watch strangers, fucking, sucking and performing their various and sundry acts of sexuality, always entertained him. And now it was no exception. The Marnham's seemed to exude an air of strange and perverse eroticism. There was something sinister about the way they reacted to each other and Prescott was caught up in the subtle nuances of then-strange relationship.
He kept staring, watching Joey Marnham diddling his wife's clitoris, his thumb coursing up and down the wet soft ridges and folds of her prominently exposed vulva. His pleasure and delight could be seen in the way his massive mule-cock continued to twitch, bobbing between his thighs as he knelt down between his wife's legs.
"Oh yes, now!" she hissed suddenly, her voice pitched low and heavy with implications of strenuous and exotic fucking. "Suck on it you beautiful humpy cock. Do it. Put your lips there and suck me dry!"
Opening her legs even wider, she groaned loudly as her husband quickly bent his head down, burrowing his face into her twat. His tongue thrust out, wide and raspy, sucking up and down her pussy with frantic delight. She began responding by arching her back, shoving her cunt up to his mouth just as he had forced her to suck on his cock several minutes before.
"Yes baby. Tongue it. Harder," she begged, still moaning as Joey worked on her pussy, wrapping his tongue tightly around her clitoris. Prescott moaned with them, still playing with his pecker.
Mrs. Marnham's urgent commands only seemed to excite her husband even more. He was big and overpowering, dwarfing her as he kept licking, tasting the abundant pungent sap which trickled down the walls of her box. His tongue kept digging in frenziedly, his lips drawing the hard little knob of her clitoris right into his mouth.
And as he ate her out, his hands came up and around to grasp the succulent cheeks of her ass. Burying his head even deeper, he dug his nails into her buttocks and she squealed, pushing herself forward as he impaled her with his restless searching tongue, drilling down into her with jabbing sucking strokes.
"Baby, more, more," she told him hotly. "Do it. Make it good and juicy and then punish me. Punish me with that cock of yours. It'll rip my guts out, it's so big."
Prescott didn't doubt it. He'd seen more cunts and cocks than he could remember, but none so mammoth as the one Joey Marnham was lucky enough to possess. It was the type of penis most women would have come over and Nick didn't doubt Mrs. Marnham's impetuous excitement for one second. He knew she was serious and he envied her husband, both for his oversized dick and for the chance to get his meat buried right down between those lovely shapely soft thighs.
Mrs. Marnham threw her head back and began sobbing and groaning in fierce desire. Her mouth hung open, the jaws slack as she mumbled incoherently, staring wildly as her husband kept working on her hole.
Clutching his fast-moving head with her hands, she pulled his mouth down even closer, deeper and deeper into the hot wet recesses of her burning cunt. Her entire body was poised on the edge of an explosion, writhing and shuddering violently as she drew nearer and nearer to an orgasm.
But her husband wasn't about to let her come so quickly.
He didn't want to make things easy for her nor encourage her to reach the peak of pleasure as a result of his own energetic attack on her vagina. But he still kept lapping, bringing her to the very brink of a nerve-shattering climax. Moaning and crying from the very depths of her being, Mrs. Marnham kept begging him for more, urging him on.
"Fuck me! Do it. Shove it in. Fill me, Joey. Oh shit yes. I need more. More, all of your meat right inside me!"
Her hips and thighs lurched and heaved up towards his mouth and he allowed her to plead, smiling to himself as he heard the sounds of her plaintive wailing, her begging rising up around him. Then, with sudden determination, he knew exactly how to punish her.
Pulling his head back for an instant, he screamed out, "Slimy ball busting bitch cunt!" before shoving forward again as the room echoed with the sudden agonizing yelp of her excruciating pain. For Joey Marnham had done what in Nick Prescott's eyes was the unthinkable. He had returned to the head, the knobby button of his wife's clitoris. Taking it between the edges of his front teeth, he had clenched his jaws, biting down on it.
"You fucking spineless cunt bastard!" he roared, slapping her across the mouth as he stood up, looking down at her, a tiny droplet of blood staining the crimson slick inside of her vagina. And then all of his rage was lost in a series of loud moans and sobs. Mrs. Marnham reached up and clutched her husband, pressing her face against his hairy groin, whimpering as her knees clenched together spasmodically and she suddenly began to come.
The fury and intensity of her climax, even without the benefit of his mouth, was something which truly amazed Nick Prescott. He was still spying through the peephole, dropping his frigging hand to his side so that he wouldn't shoot.
He wanted to save his spunk until the perfect moment, relishing Mrs. Marnham's display of convulsive shudders as a gush of juice trickled down over her plump womanly mons, dripping over her thighs. Her husband looked down and kept laughing, refusing to touch her as she jabbed a finger into her box, her climax making her weak and senseless with erotic delight.
But when she quieted down, whimpering softly, stretched out on the bed, Joey Marnham moved into position. An expression of unmitigated and animal lust covered his face as he took hold of his jutting cock stem and hovered over his wife's prostrate body.
With a roar of animalistic intensity, he pushed down as she looked up, crying out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Her husband began to pound his cock into place, stretching the walls of her pussy to the breaking point as Prescott kept watching. The house dick saw how Mrs. Marnham's cunt was being brutally assaulted, the hole gaping now as her husband thrust forward, his weight centered at his hips.
"Here you go, you piece of shit!" he cursed her, watching the progress of his tool as it drilled down into place. The head of his cock was already lodged between the outer and puffy cunt flaps and now he could feel the erect little finger that was her clitoris twitching in response to the heated thrusts of his massive column of flesh.
He crushed it down against his cock-shaft as he kept poking forward, staring down between his hairy thighs as he funneled more and more of his penis into place. The wetness and warmth of his wife's vagina made him tremble with pleasure and he was not content until he had gotten every last thick throbbing inch into place.
Finally, when all Prescott could see was the very base of the man's dong, hidden inside his wife's vagina, Marnham began to pump. Their bellies met, one firm and hairy, the other white and plump, as Marnham began to jostle back and forth. His wife's resistance was completely gone, melted in the air that seemed saturated with growing lust.
She felt the smooth stiffness of her husband's masterly cock insinuating itself inside of her twat. It seemed to glide easily, her cunt walls so well coated with sap that the friction was as if she had oiled her channel, thus allowing him to get inside with a minimum of difficulty.
"Yes, my darling. Oh shit, what a cock. It's so hot, so thick. I can feel it everywhere," she groaned as he kept pumping his meat in and out, not saying a word to her, but concentrating totally on the task at hand.
It thrust forward, banging down against her clit with each well maneuvered poke and she felt it all the way to the entrance to her womb. His balls kept knocking against her buttocks, their crisp furred surface tickling her with a delicious sensation of being fucked both anally as well as vaginally.
"Harder," she kept saying. "Yes, you're the one. I was bad, very bad. I had to be punished. And you're the only man who knows how. The only one!"
If he heard her, which Prescott was sure of, Marnham said nothing. He was too involved in achieving his own pleasure, especially since his wife had already come. He banged all the way inside, felt the rear wall of her womb hitting the head of his enormous cock before he backstroked, pulling out nearly to the entrance to her pussy and her dilated cunt lips. Back and forth he worked his dick. Long shoves were followed by slow almost burning short shoves back as he kept quickening his rhythm, urging her on with greater and greater energy and delight.
With one hand, Marnham reached down as his wife wiggled against him. He rested for an instant, caught his breath and continued, his fingers feeling the base of his cock as it was encircled by her cunt lobes. The hairs around his cock rubbed and frictioned against her own curly pubic mound and when he reached to touch her clit against the lower end of his dick, the rubbing sensation made his wife scream out with incredible passion.
"What are you doing to me!" she yelled. "Your touch. I'm burning. Joey, come. Fill me, shoot, my darling, my big hairy beautiful big-cock!"
Prescott had seen women excited before, but none as overcome as Mrs. Marnham appeared to be. Her skin was tinted a reddish rosy color, as if she was actually glowing from within. It surprised him that her husband paid no attention to her tits, for the woman's nipples were pointy and firm, just aching to be sucked.
He would have gladly exchanged places with the forceful Marnham, but he stayed where he was, his cock just as hard as ever. Once again, he began to play with himself, timing his slow up and down strokes to match Joey Marnham's insistent plugging and unplugging movements as he kept battering in and out of his wife's squishing and juicy vagina.
A shiver of delight ran through her as she felt his cock and his finger, the two of them making her clit burn with incredible intensity. His strokes got quicker and shorter as the hairy cheeks of his ass wiggled and quivered, responding to her touch.
She reached up and behind to grasp her husband's firm muscular buttocks, squeezing them erotically as his breath came out in short heated gasps to match the frenzied intensity of his strokes. His wife was sighing loudly and more juices were beginning to exude from her snatch as he kept thrusting his dick up into her pussy as if he was trying to ensheath his entire body into her womb.
"Do it, I'll shoot!" she suddenly warned him.
"Soon. Soon you'll have more than you can take," he promised, still working intensely as Prescott noted how the guy's heavy pendulous nuts covered his wife's upraised ass, wagging and rubbing and banging against the cheeks of her bottom.
Her thighs kept opening and closing, reminding him of the death throes of a landed fish. The knees pushed forward and then down again as she continued to shiver with uncontrollable passion, squeezing her thighs around her husband's joint as it stiffened inside of her, harder than ever.
"Make me come," she told him. "You know how. You know how to excite me like no one else, Joey."
He seemed to ignore her heated compliment as his cock began to throb inside of her, her female juices wetting it down from the very head of his dick to the hairy base. A delicious and almost maddening sensation took hold of him and he felt delirious and in command of the situation, knowing also that he wouldn't be able to hold back for too much longer.
He clung to her and moved his lips to her mouth. Their tongues met and spit dribbled out of the corner of her mouth as she kept sucking on her husband's tongue. Marnham's hand tightened around her ass as if he was trying to squeeze the breath out of her.
And, at the same time, she played with his buttocks as well, reaching down with one extended finger to slowly and sensuously rub up and down the length of his hairy bum furrow, tickling him delightfully as he pushed his bottom back to her, encouraging her to grow even more lewd and aggressive.
Still sucking on her tongue, Joey Marnham felt the first sign of his impending crisis. His balls seemed to tighten as if someone was squeezing and gripping them. They wrinkled even more, sending chills up and down his spine.
Heaving forward, he gasped loudly, readying himself.
Prescott was also about to come and his cock glistened with his spittle as he kept whacking himself off, staring at Mrs. Marnham's tits and pussy, hungering after her and wondering how he might be able to get into her box. And when he heard Joey Marnham screaming out that he was about to shoot, he stiffened violently and his cream soared up the length of his pole, splattering into the air in a great hot arc of gism.
He kept trembling as more and more come spurted out, watching as first Mrs. Marnham and then her husband joined him in the pleasurable ecstasy of their own orgasms.
Joey stiffened, arched his back and began to cream. His semen gushed into his wife's pussy and as she felt it searing the walls of her battered and overheated snatch, she began to come as well. "More," she kept begging. "Oh shit, yes. More, come, give me come. All over me; cover me with it!"
He laughed sadistically now, feeling his power and overwhelming strength as he drilled into her with a sudden burst of energy, grinding his hairy chest down against her tits as his come kept shooting out, filling her pussy so that it dribbled down over her bush, matting the hairs around his groin and soaking the sheets with his abundant spend.
He didn't stop shooting until she had milked him dry, bringing her cunt muscles into play as she clutched him, trying to hold him in place. "What a fuck, what a great beautiful thing you are," she told him, mumbling and rambling on as he kept laughing at her apparent helplessness.
He knew how much she needed him. He knew as well how much she responded to his every move and he lay on top of her long after the last slimy wads of his milky-white cream had been triggered out of his cock. He was perfectly content, drenched in sweat as he crushed her down beneath him.
As for Nick Prescott, he stood against the wall, shaking, his hands dripping come onto the carpeted floor as he tried to regain his composure, wondering if he should just stuff his cock back into his pants or make a surprise visit next door to Room 712.
But that decision was, at least for the time being, made for him. For at that moment someone began to scream.
CHAPTER II
His cock was dangling limp between his legs when Nick Prescott heard the screams coming from the far end of the corridor. He heard a rush of footsteps in the hall and people were shouting, the screaming growing louder. Acting quickly, he stuffed his cock back into his pants and not even bothering to replace the peephole and the painting, he dashed from the room.
The commotion had spread through the hall and people in various states of dress and undress were peering out of their doors, excited by the loud cries which came from the far end of the corridor.
"Someone's getting raped! Attacked!" one of the chambermaids told him. Prescott saw red and began to run, telling one of the bellhops to get the police. He hoped he would be able to arrive in time. But when he got to the room, the screams louder than before, he found it locked. Prescott pounded on the door and a woman screamed out for help. Using his shoulder, he stepped back and battered against the heavy wooden door.
The wood began to splinter as the woman kept moaning, begging someone to leave her alone. "He'll kill me!" she shouted. "Stop him! Oh God stop him!"
Sweat dripped down his body as he tried once again, lunging savagely at the door. Then, amidst the confusion, he remembered the skeleton key he had in his pocket. Quickly, he thrust it into the lock and turned it, pushing against the door. Rushing inside, he found a man hunched over the body of a woman, her face still hidden. He was trying to rip off her clothes. The assailant turned back in surprise, but Prescott was too quick for him.
Lifting the lamp off the dresser, he brought it down on the stranger's head. The rapist gave a strangled cry of pain and collapsed on top of the terrified young woman.
It was then that Prescott saw who it was.
"Holy shit!" he said under his breath. For he found himself staring into the wide frightened eyes of the girl he had seen in the lobby, the girl with the strawberry mole above the bridge of her nose. Before he could say anything, two patrolmen hurried into the room, clamping their hands around the man. He was still unconscious as they dragged him out, his feet limp, banging against the floor.
"We'll take care of it, officers," he told them. "The young lady will be down to press charges in the morning."
"Whatever you say, Prescott. We know you're good for your word."
Prescott closed the door behind him, blotting out the curious twisted faces which had been drawn to the scene of excitement and commotion. He heard them mumbling amongst themselves, returning to their rooms. Then, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the girl. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had trouble talking. Reaching out, Nick began to massage her hands and legs, trying to comfort her.
"It'll be all right. Everything's going to be quite all right," he kept repeating as she continued to shake, cowering before him in a nightgown that had been ripped halfway down the front. Prescott saw the lush heaviness of the young woman's tits. But he said nothing, trying to look at her face rather than her alluring seductive body.
"I ... he came ... I ... my aunt," she choked, unable to form the proper words.
"I'm here. I'm the house detective. It'll be all right," he said again, assuring her that nothing more would happen, that she was now protected.
But as he continued to rub his hands over her calves and fingers, drawing life back into the pale ghost-like pallor of her flesh, flesh which almost seemed to shrink away from him, Prescott could not help but feel desire. He thought he was a prick for feeling turned on, especially when the girl seemed barely conscious of what was happening.
She was still in a state of shock, but her very feel, the smooth supple quality of her arms and legs, got him increasingly aroused. He began to massage her more delicately, trying to comfort but almost trying to turn her on as well.
When he glanced down the length of his body, he saw the rising outline of his dick. His cock was already swelling, filling up with blood. The scene with the Marnham's had inflamed his passion and now he thought of what it would be like to finally consummate, finish the act his fantasies had dwelled upon ever since he had seen the girl in the lobby earlier that evening.
It rose upwards past his navel, hard and rigid and he tried not to think of what was happening. He tried not to make his hard-on more obvious than it really was. As he rubbed her hands between his own, Prescott kept silent.
The girl stared at him looking directly into his eyes, questioning without words. And when Nick found himself glancing down again at her tits, she seemed to ignore his piercing penetrating stare. Nick couldn't stop looking.
Behind the thin sheer cloth of her nightgown rose two heavy mounds of flesh. The nipples were plainly visible, two rosebuds of the palest pink, surrounded by small aureoles the size of silver dollars. He wanted to lick them, but kept holding himself back.
When he ran his fingers over her brow, pushing her hair back, she opened her mouth again. "I started to ... he came in and then ... oh god I don't know what happened!"
"He's gone now," Nick whispered. "Nothing's going to happen to you again."
"Oh, but you're wrong," she suddenly yelled. "You're so wrong!" Her eyes dropped down from Nick's face, glancing at the tangle of chest hair between the open folds of his shirt. He noticed how she looked at him and when he shifted his vision down to his crotch, he opened his mouth, not sure if he should apologize or say anything at all.
For plainly visible, thrusting forward and tenting up his pants, was the stiff tight outline of his cock, swollen and bulbous. It seemed to stick out like a fist behind the fly of his trousers. Nevertheless, Prescott made no move to conceal it. He stayed where he was on the bed, waiting for the girl to say something, to explain herself. He didn't know what she had meant and he waited, hoping her words might dispel some of the tension which lingered in the air.
He noticed how there was a deep V-shaped depression where her thighs conjoined and he saw a dark irregular shadowy patch between her legs. Her pubic mound seemed to swell upwards, pulsing slightly-or so he fondly imagined-behind her negligee.
Nick wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to rub his face across her pussy and feel the inside of her cunt opening up before his probing raspy tongue. The very thought gave him the shivers. But he didn't move. The girl had said that he was wrong. She had mentioned her aunt and he wanted to know more. But still he didn't move. Not then, at least.
He remained perched on the edge of the bed, watching the young woman as he asked her if she was feeling any better. "Calmer?" he wanted to know.
She nodded her head, trying to smile. And then she began to laugh. The laugh unnerved him. It was pitched high, cackling, sarcastic to the extreme. "Oh yes," she said. "I'll be fine. For the time being. Maybe. But who cares, Mister? Life's a gamble, a fucking gamble if you don't mind my saying so."
"We all gamble," he muttered, more confused than ever.
"But that ape really scared the shit out of me. He was going to kill me, I know that. But the fucker had to get his rocks off, first. Thanks to Violet, that is. But here I was, sound asleep, and the next thing I know this huge animal of a guy is on top of me, trying to rape me."
And still his cock bulged out. And still Prescott did nothing to hide the fact that he was incredibly aroused just by sitting next to her on the bed.
"Thanks," the young woman went on. "You must be pretty together to have been able to think so fast. I wish I had that kind of timing, myself. But mother never taught me that. I had to learn everything firsthand."
There was a note of bitterness in her tone. He looked at her and tried to smile. "Nick Prescott at your service," he grinned.
"Trudy Heath," she said, introducing herself. "For the time being. But I thank you, Mr. Prescott. I'm sure dear Violet would like to string you up, but I am grateful. Really."
Their mock display of politeness amused them both and Nick felt more at ease. He laughed and flashed a grin which seemed to melt some of the tension between them. Ever so slowly, ever so gently-as if she was afraid of being what she no doubt thought was unduly aggressive-Trudy reached out and touched Nick's chest with the tips of her fingers.
"Are you the knight on the white horse?" she asked mysteriously. "You know, the hero who saves the princess from the clutches of the evil sorcerer?"
"Are you the princess?" he asked, knowing that she had given him his cue. Accordingly, he leaned over, lying down alongside of her. Cupping her chin in one hand, he moved his head close, his lips slightly parted as he brushed them across her mouth.
"I needed that," she whispered, savoring the warmth and moistness of his lips against her own. Slowly, Nick's tongue began to circle in and out of Trudy's mouth. Her hands crept downwards by degrees, just as tentative in her approach as he was. Prescott didn't want to ruin what appeared to be a good thing. He took his time, not wanting his seduction to resemble anything like the attempted rape.
But Trudy Heath was far more aggressive than he had originally decided. She inched closer to his throbbing dick as he squeezed against her, still kissing her passionately. He wanted to know about Violet, wondering if that was her aunt. But he said nothing for the moment, lowering his head. He began to suck on her tits with an abrupt urgency that made her suck in her breath. Prescott lapped her nipples with the tip of his tongue and her resistance melted completely.
"Lovely," she told him, approving and shivering as he kept swabbing her boobs, his breath hot against her flesh. And as he took one nipple after another between his teeth, the young woman grabbed for his cock, clutching the outline tightly in her hand.
Nick shuddered involuntarily. "Nice," he murmured. "Your hand's so nice and warm."
He kept licking her tits as her fingers moved up and down the length of his thick cock-shaft. She pulled down the zipper and thrust her hand inside his pants. Prescott stiffened as soon as her fingers came in contact with his flesh. She pulled his dick out into the open, rubbing up and down along the tightly stretched skin. Her touch made his penis rise up even stiffer and harder than before. He felt a tingling sensation in his groin and he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. He threw it down on the floor and bent his head lower.
Kissing her navel, he sensed her willingness and desire. Her body was warmer than ever. "What did the guy do? Actually?" he suddenly asked.
"Not very much," she admitted, looked up at him. "He was trying to get me to open my legs but he couldn't manage it."
"Did he show you his cock?"
"Curious, aren't we?" she giggled. But the very description and recollection of the attack was getting her strangely aroused. "Well, actually," she admitted, "he did pull it out. But shit, it wasn't as big as yours, Prescott. And he wasn't nearly as handsome."
Compliments and flattery gave Nick confidence. Sure that Trudy was hot for him, he hugged her tightly, rubbing his chest hairs against her tits as she squirmed against him. Deftly, he slipped out of his pants and under-shorts and then pulled her nightgown up over her head, the two of them now totally naked.
He slid down along the bed, the tip of his tongue outstretched. Staring at her pussy, Nick licked the tendrils of coarse pubic hair as he felt himself fast losing control.
She's like the other one, he thought. Like Karen, one and the same. He thought of the one girl he had ever loved, ten years back in his past. The memory had first aroused his interest in Trudy and the more he thought about it, the more he looked at her, the more similar they became.
Not again, oh shit don't make me a goner again, he said to himself. For the things he was feeling were not composed merely of passion, horniness or sexual excitement. The girl was warm and inviting and her touch made him tremble. Her fingers burned his skin and her eyes, lost and bewildered, seemed strangely out of place amidst the cold arrogance of her thin straight nose and pointy chin.
Almost in a frenzy he moaned at the sight of her triangular patch of pubic hair, covering the red flaps of her pussy. Her cunt furrow was tightly clenched, the crevice closed and the inside of her pussy hidden for the moment. He began to lick the surface of her snatch as she lay back, staring down at him.
Trudy kept her legs wide apart. Nick pushed open the lobes of soft resilient flesh, staring down at the inside of her pussy. Cunt juice shone along her swollen vulva and as she moaned softly and pushed her hips forward, he began to gobble up her vagina.
"More," she begged, already incredibly aroused as Nick's mouth coursed in and out of her hole. He drove his tongue, in deeply, rubbing it up and down along that hot and slimy walls of her pussy. Pushing the inner folds apart, he gasped, not quite believing his eyes. For there, rising up towards his lips and tongue was a long thick finger of cunt flesh, a clitoris that excited him incredibly.
It was one of the most developed, one of the largest and thickest clits he had ever seen. Almost grotesque in that it resembled a miniature cock, he could only drool at the sight of it, quickly clamping his lips around her clitoris.
Nibbling on it with fierce delight, he listened to her rising moans as her hands roamed up and down his body. Cupping her jugs, he rolled the taut firm nipples beneath his palms. "Shit, I have to have you," he muttered, pulling her legs farther apart as he dived down, his tongue going crazy, tasting the musky perfume of her marvelous sex.
Licking up and down her gaping cunt furrow, the lips now dilated and opened of their own accord, he passed beyond the edge of her swollen vulva and moved further down, licking the coarse-haired chink between the cheeks of Trudy's ass.
And there he found what he had been looking for.
Her bottom-hole was like a flower, an unopened bud. Tightly puckered, the hole was covered with curly ringlets of light brown hair. He could see the tiny slit-like opening beneath the hairs and he began to sponge her hole with his tongue, trying to work it right inside and feel the all-consuming warmth and tightness of her anus against his lips.
He felt himself going berserk, turned on to an amazing degree as he tried to penetrate her perennial corolla with his wide probing tongue. Licking in and out of her ass and up and down along her crevice, Nick heard Trudy panting loudly. She squirmed against him, shoving her ass in his face.
Knowing that the moment was right and his timing perfect, the burly detective moved up into a crouch, holding Trudy's thighs apart. He spit into his palm, preparing his cock for what he knew would be a great bout of cornholing.
"You're not serious, are you?" she asked, staring at his dick. Nick's cock rose up like a pillar along his hairy belly as he straddled her, his penis fully lubricated.
Trudy kept staring in disbelief. "You'll rip me apart. I don't get off on stuff like that."
"You will this time," he assured her. "Just relax and trust me. I wouldn't want to hurt you for the world."
He meant it, too.
Nick placed his hands flat on the bed, moving the head of his massive cock down to her asshole. Already greased for entry, he bore down from his hips and the head of his penis banged against her ass. She screamed out suddenly when he penetrated, his glans moving right inside her butt.
Stopping for a moment, he sucked on her tits, coaxing her on, begging her to relax and let him continue. Slowly, he once again began to push down from his lips, working the entire thick length of his cock inside her ass. Inch by throbbing inch they both saw it disappearing.
Her ass was dry as a bone and Nick moaned hotly as Trudy began to use her sphincter muscles, gripping his dong with a marvelous kind of suction that made the act twice as rewarding, twice as exciting. Soon enough, there was no more to go.
All thick eight inches were stored up to the hilt in her ass and their pubic bushes seemed to form one long wide hairy area, tangling together. "Do it," she said at last. "It does feel good. Oh shit yes, pump, baby, Shove it in. Pack my shit in!"
Nick worked in earnest, thrust back and forth as he pulled his dick halfway out and then slammed it in again. The bedsprings creaked loudly as he began to pump with greater and greater vigor. They rocked together, Trudy's skin turning pink with the first hot flush of sexual excitement as Nick continued to pump, feeling her ass embracing his pecker as he pounded in and out of her butt.
"Harder!" she kept calling out as he reached out with one hand and tickled her clitoris, rolling it back and forth with his fingers. He pulled at it, squeezed it tightly and grinned as she responded with a chorus of highly aroused moans and sobs of delight.
"Oh yes, I'm gonna come!" she said at last. "Oh shit so good. So big, so thick. I feel it I'm going crazy!"
Wanting her to get off on his pumping, Prescott kept pounding into her, trying to bring off her climax as well as his own. He felt and heard his big hairy nuts flopping down hard against her buttocks and he rubbed his chest on top of her boobs, a fierce sense of urgency blinding him to anything other than the moment of ultimate pleasure.
"A fire. I'm burning. It's happening oh hold me, make me come!" she moaned as his cock hammered into her, beating in and out with a fast and ever increasing rhythm. Then, Trudy began to tremble convulsively and as she moaned, Nick stiffened on top of her, howling out at the top of his lungs.
"Feel it!" he roared as he suddenly felt his semen spurting up the length of his deeply buried hose. He sprayed into her overheated ass with all the power of his excitement and lust. It kept on shooting, his gism splattering into her deliciously tight anus, load after load of his cream as he felt her own orgasm drenching her pussy. Her cunt juice trickled over his pubic bush, making his belly warm and slippery with her pungent sap.
At last, the final thick wads of sticky come splashing into her asshole, Nick fell down on top of her. He buried his face in the warm hollow between her neck and shoulders. He felt drained of energy, unable to move.
Trudy held onto him, not letting him go. She was, he realized, like a child afraid of the dark. The orgasm she had experienced had pushed unpleasant memories out of the way. But now they seemed to return and she trembled, almost as frightened and alone as she had been when he had rushed into the room less than an hour before.
"Don't leave. Oh Nick, don't leave me. You don't know what she's doing. She's driving me crazy. She wants me dead, killed. Out of the way!" Trudy sobbed.
"Who?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Violet," she whimpered. "My aunt. Oh God it's so long and involved. You don't want to know, anyway. You wouldn't want to be involved."
"I'm involved with nobody," Nick told her, speaking softly and slowly, knowing exactly what he was saying. "I have no one. No lover. No family. Few friends to speak of. I want to know what's happening. This evening I saw you rush out of the lobby and I remember, awhile ago, a woman checked in here with the same kind of strawberry on her brow. Was that Violet?"
She nodded her head, unable to speak.
"What does she want from you, for God sakes!"
"She wants my life, Nick," and then Trudy began to laugh. She shook, rolling from side to side. The laugh was one of hysteria and shock and he gripped her around the shoulders. But still she wouldn't stop. It was only when he slapped her across the face that her wild rantings reduced themselves to silence. "She wants me dead," Trudy whispered. "She wants me dead."
"But why?" he asked, more confused than ever.
"Why? Because I'm worth a lot of money, Nick. More money than you've ever imagined. I checked in here to get away from her. But she found me, or one of her hirelings did. It's all so sordid, like a bad cops and robbers movie."
Nick sat up and placed his hands on his thighs. His head was spinning. Things are happening too quickly, he thought. I'm losing control. She's taking something ... doing something to me.
"I have all this money. I could give you everything you've always wanted!" she suddenly blurted out, turning to him.
"That's just marvelous!" he spat out, unable to hide his sarcastic tone. "What are you? Just another rich bitch who wants to own me by the balls? Fat chance, kiddo!"
"No, you don't understand. I didn't mean it that way. Just stay with me, Nick. I ... want to love you. It's true. It sounds corny, but I mean it."
At that moment, Nick Prescott didn't doubt her. "And what's my part of the bargain? Just another cock?" and he motioned to his pecker. It hung limp and dripping between his hairy thighs.
"No, that isn't it at all. You're not just another person, someone without a name. Prescott, I need you. I need you to hold me and make me warm and secure. Is that so much to ask?"
"No, I guess it isn't," he was forced to admit.
She smiled at that, her head sinking down in the pillows.
"And where does Violet whatever-her-name fit in?" he asked. "Why is she trying to kill you? It sounds so hard to believe."
"I know it does," she admitted. "You see, she's my father's only sister. He had no brothers and his parents have been dead for years. After my mother died, she used to come and visit us a lot. Then daddy died last month and since then, everything's been hell, Prescott."
"She wants the money, I take it."
Trudy nodded her head. "You see, I turn twenty-five at the end of the month. Daddy didn't think I was responsible. He used to call me a decadent debutante. It was his favorite harangue. So he stipulated in his will that I wouldn't collect the bulk of my estate until my twenty-fifth birthday."
"Go on," he said, more interested than ever.
"But the only problem is that if I die before my birthday, the money automatically reverts to Violet, who's daddy's only living relative."
"And what if you die after your birthday?" Nick asked, reaching out to touch her boobs. He felt the nipples beginning to swell, his touch was so electric, so instantly potent.
"That's the twist," she told him, "After I turn twenty-five, when I die the money will go to charity. So she only has a month before she loses. Now do you understand?"
Sure, he thought to himself. She wants a patsy, a bodyguard just in case Violet tries anything else.
It was, he realized then, as if she was reading his mind. "I know what you're thinking, Nick. But you're wrong. You can go out of this room right now, but come back next month and I'll still feel the same. I'd rather get killed than see you suffer or get hurt. Believe me. Oh please, please believe me!"
Prescott couldn't control himself. At that moment he knew the pact was sealed. He was giving himself over to her, just as she was giving herself to him. But I have nothing else, he thought, trying to rationalize the impetuousness of his decision.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, rubbing his tongue across her lips. Trudy clung to him, afraid of letting go. But then something clicked in his mind. A test, he thought. See who's bullshitting who. Quickly, he threw her back down on the bed with a brutal wrenching shove. He still couldn't decide if she was using him as a hired stud and a bodyguard, or if she really meant what she said.
"Eat my ass out," he told her suddenly. "Show me your love, kiddo. Get down there and suck out my ass. Show me how much you love me!
Prescott began to laugh. He smirked and turned around, pushing his hard hairy ass right into her face. Trudy, however, didn't flinch. She acted immediately, without hesitating or thinking twice. He felt her gripping the cheeks of his ass as her tongue suddenly shot forward, lashing down against his hairy anal crevice.
"Thata girl," he mumbled, shaking violently. He began to moan with delight as he turned his head around to watch. Trudy kept licking his bum furrow, lubricating his bottom-hole with an abundant amount of spit.
"Stick it in," he told her, relaxing totally. Trudy pushed forward then, shoving the entire hot wet length of her tongue right inside Nick's butt. She licked up and down the tight dry walls of his rectum and he pumped back and forth, pushing his buns against her face.
He was shuddering, feeling pleasure and ecstasy. Then, spitting into the palm of his hand, Prescott began to jerk himself off while Trudy Heath worked on his ass. He knew from her energetic motions that she was enjoying herself, getting off on giving him pleasure. It said a lot to him and he was almost sorry he had acted so callously, pushing her around.
Nick kept working on his cock as Trudy fucked his ass with her mouth and tongue, penetrating in and out with long languid swipes. "Faster," he told her. "Suck on it like you've never sucked on anything else before."
He could barely contain himself and he suddenly swung around, feeling his climax coming upon him almost unawares. Quickly, he stuffed his pecker into her mouth as she kept slobbering over his groin, driving a finger right up his well-lubricated bottom.
Nick trembled as she licked and sucked his cock. Then, he screamed out as his come soared upwards and her finger pistoned in and out of his ass. "Feel it!" he screamed again. "Shit yes, baby, do it. Harder, faster!"
Trudy swallowed with eagerness, almost greed. The come poured into her throat, less thick than Prescott's first climax, but still enough to coat her tongue and teeth as she kept milking his swiftly ejaculating cock.
Beautiful, he thought to himself, watching the young woman blowing him with something he knew was more than mere sexual excitement. Her very earnestness, her desire to please, told him more than any words could have explained. And all the while she kept her finger up his ass, exciting his prostate gland as his cock danced around inside her mouth, triggering come like a machine gun, one thick wad after another.
When it was finally over, Nick fell back on the bed and Trudy lay against him, her eyes closed, her skin covered with a thin shiny layer of perspiration. He held her tightly and stroked her hair, locking at the birthmark on her forehead.
Like the mark of Cain, he thought to himself. At that moment, Nick Prescott knew that he was hooked. He knew that he was in up to his neck. But he didn't want to back away.
Holy motherfucking shit, he cursed himself. "I'm in love," he whispered, "fucking in love."
CHAPTER III
It was decided that Trudy would stay in Prescott's room, at least for the time being. He called downstairs and instructed Ryan, telling the overweight young man to indicate on the records that Miss Heath had checked out that evening.
It was already late and Nick was ready to call it a day. Trudy was showering in the bathroom when he distinctly heard some strangely familiar noises coming from the other side of his bedroom wall. There were occasional whimpers, sighs and soft groans of what he immediately imagined were sounds of lust and fervent lovemaking.
He heard the shower going and he acted quickly, getting up on the bed and removing the painting which hung above the headboard. Prescott clawed at the peephole impatiently. He removed it and stuck his eye to the small round opening in the wall.
He was as lucky as he had been with the Marnham's.
His view was totally unimpeded as he saw everything. A girl was moaning to her friend, calling out to him, screaming, "Oh shit, more, baby more. Keep eating me out. Harder, keep sucking you beauty, you big beautiful stallion."
Unreal, he said to himself, immediately envious of the guy who was working on the young girl's pussy. They were both fully enjoying themselves and his cock started to quiver with delight. Immediately, almost before anything else, his fingers inched down to his groin, fastening themselves around the long limp tube that was his cock. He began to rub his penis briskly, glad that he hadn't bothered to get dressed, staring with gaping mouth at the two kids.
The boy was lean, tall and muscular. He straddled his girl friend as she spread her legs wide apart, with his mouth buried right between them. Prescott caught a glimpse of her blonde haired snatch, the fur like a pelt of gold. The kid's tongue worked feverishly, splashing in and out of her cunt hole as she sighed and moaned loudly, urging him on.
From where he stood he could easily see every detail of her luscious and highly arousing, highly edible as well, pussy. Her cunt was a bright coral, not as developed as Trudy's, but still delightful to behold. The inner walls were shining and slippery and Nick began to pump his meat, moving his fingers up and down the length of his pole as he tried to get it good and hard.
He didn't even realize that he was whacking himself off at exactly the same tempo the kid was using on his chick's pussy. And as far as the blonde was concerned, she was out to give her friend just as much pleasure as he was giving her.
One gift deserved another and her two eager hands cupped the boy's tight young backside. She held him down in place as he kept on moving his body up and down, raising and lowering his hips as his cock slid in and out of her well-crammed mouth. His nuts swayed back and forth and the girl was making loud slurping noises as she kept her mouth glued to the surface of her lover's thick tumescent cock.
Nick kept staring, amazed at the way the blonde worked so frantically, sucking away like mad. She was obviously enjoying herself as they both worked together. The more he looked, the more excited he became.
The smell of something familiar drifted through the air and back to him. Marijuana, he thought to himself, not at all surprised. They were stoned and in love and nothing else seemed to matter. Although he felt like a dirty old man, Nick wasn't about to stop what he was doing. He kept playing with himself and spying on the two youths, listening to Trudy singing in the shower. The girl had a lush curvaceous body and her tits rose and fell against her chest. They didn't sag; they weren't creased or wrinkled; they didn't flop over along the sides of her chest. They looked firm and ripe and his fingers itched as he kept massaging his dick.
It now rose up, just as hard as the boy's. What I wouldn't give, he thought to himself. What I wouldn't give to get a piece of her little tail.
But, at the moment, he had to content himself with merely watching. From her tits his eyes wandered down to her twat. With its curly thicket of blonde hair and its pink vulva, it brought back fond memories of other pussies he had fucked and sucked and as he watched, Nick heard the girl say to her friend, "Shit more, Tommy. Do it. And then fuck me. Give it all to me."
He mumbled incoherently and she moved away from his cock, trying to shift her body around. The boy rubbed against her, frictioning up and down the length of her body as they held onto each other. Their mouths met and they kissed long and hard, tonguing each other deliciously.
Tipping the velvet, said Nick to himself, licking his lips in sympathetic attraction. He still had the taste of Trudy in his mouth and now he was sorry she was taking such a long time in the shower. Tommy kept rubbing his hands over the girl's gleaming supple skin, finally lowering her down on the bed.
He got up on top of her, mounting her quickly like an impatient stallion. His cock jutted forward, a third arm crowned by a bulbous ruby-red glans. Pressing his hands on the bed as if to keep his weight off of her, he looked down and kissed her on the cheek.
"Yes, do it, Tommy," she begged. "Put it right in me, honey. Oh shit, I need it. I need to feel you moving inside of me."
But it seemed that Tommy was cut from the same mold as Nick. Both of them shared a certain taste for teasing and titillation. He wasn't about to work so quickly. Rather, the youngster worked his torso back and forth, rubbing the head of his dick against the girl's gaping cunt lips.
They're fluttering! Nick thought in amazement, watching the two puffy outer lobes actually quivering, throbbing and reminding him of a pair of butterfly wings as she kept moaning, begging him to work his cock deep inside of her.
Dilating and contracting, the girl's outer labia swelled even more as Tommy kept teasing her with the blood-engorged head of his thick and sturdy cock. Her moans and cries of painful pleasure grew even louder and she reached up and grasped the cheeks of Tommy's ass. Trying to pull him down into her, she pushed her hips up as well, angling her body towards the promise of fulfillment, towards the thick meaty tool which rose up between his thighs.
But try as she might, Tommy outsmarted her. He knew how to play every chord of her body and her skin began to glow as she kept attempting to bury his hose right inside her pussy. "No, give it to me," she said. "Please. Don't do this. Fuck me!"
But he only smiled at her, tantalizing her with his exotic and highly arousing motions. He never moved his penis much past the gaping opening of her vulva, that delicious shiny vestibule from which Nick finally was able to see the small rounded knob of the girl's clitoris. It wiggled back and forth and he kept licking his lips, hungering after it as he watched Tommy move into action.
The well-built youngster slipped his pole along his girl friend's vaginal furrow so that the head of his dick frictioned swiftly against her engorged and jutting little clitoris. That, in itself, was more than enough to make Nick pant appreciatively. His eye was rooted to the scene. He dared not blink, fearing that he would miss something.
The youngster's clitoris looked incredibly inflamed and she writhed on the bed, clutching Tommy's ass, pushing him towards her as he kept stimulating her delectable little morsel of overheated cunt flesh. "Please, please, Tommy. I beg of you," she called out to him, whimpering loudly. "I'm starving for your meat. I can't handle any more of this. Baby, do it. Feel my pussy. Shove it in!"
He finally consented.
Taking hold of his thick stiff cock with one hand, Tommy guided it down into place. He pushed his hips forward, thrusting towards the set of fluttering cunt lips as the girl lifted her ass off the bed, positioning her vagina right at the massive swollen head of the kid's dong.
Slowly it moved down into place. Nick kept watching, burning with a wild fuck-hunger, feeling crazed and incredibly turned on as the boy's large and stiff-standing penis pushed inch by inch into the blonde's wet and gaping twat. She screamed out when the head passed inside and as more and more of the braided ivory shaft followed suit, Tommy broke out into a sweat.
When the girl grabbed his buttocks and pinched them tightly in her eagerness to have his cock inside of her, he took a deep breath and pounded down with one mighty swoop. She kept screaming, wrapping her ankles around his buttocks as they began to move together. "Fuck, fuck me," she told him between clenched teeth. "Fast baby. Oh shit I can taste it it's so fucking large!"
His rhythm made Nick dizzy. Tommy kept pumping into his girl friend's pussy, his overheated tool working its way in and out of her as they both moaned loudly, the cries of youthful lust rising up and making Prescott tremble on the other side of the wall.
His cock was throbbing, painful now as he spit into his hand and lubricated his dick, rubbing his saliva up and down as Tommy kept slamming his joint in and out, never stopping, clutching the girl tightly with both hands as his ass quivered and she played with the tightly clenched opening, the long furrow between his ivory-white ass cheeks.
He wished he was Tommy's age and in Tommy's place. He kept looking at both of them, watching the kid's cock slipping in and out with fluid grace, catching tantalizing glimpses of the girl's plump little ass as well.
Nick wondered if her bottom would be as tight as Trudy's had been. He imagined his cock grinding down into it, moving up inside her anus and rubbing against the tight dry walls which would close in around his meat. But he knew that he would have to wait, maybe even forever.
"I can't hold back," the boy said, gasping for air, his eyes glazed over as he beat a fierce vibrating tattoo in and out of her mushy hole. "Do it, come, come with me!"
His furry scrotal sac batted against her uplifted buttocks and he stroked even faster, moving his hard lean body down against her like a fucking steamroller. Again and again he pounded down, crushing her onto the bed as Nick stroked just as fast.
Prescott felt his nuts tightening. It was his own particular warning signal and he knew his climax would soon follow. Any second now his come would start to pour out of the head of his rod and he heard himself crying out with passion just as Tommy stiffened and screamed out in ecstasy.
"Baby now!" he bellowed. "Holy shit feel it! Come, all this fucking come. I can't hold back. Shooting, feel it fucking holy shit!" He danced and jiggled on top of her, shaking violently.
At that instant, Trudy came out of the bathroom. Nick didn't hear her, but she saw him standing with his eye to the peephole, jerking off violently. Quickly, she moved into action. She was on the bed in a flash and he looked down with surprise as she clamped her lips around his flaming dick. At that moment, Nick Prescott unleashed his load.
He looked down at Trudy, felt the warmth and wetness of her lips as she sucked in his cock to the very root. He felt helpless, gripped by the excitement of the momentous climax which was making his nuts contract.
"Yes," he whimpered. "Suck it down, good to the last drop, baby," Nick kept muttering. His semen splattered out of his cock, shooting into Trudy's mouth and hitting the back of her throat, one thick burst after another.
He could also hear the girl groaning loudly, gnashing her teeth as she too began to feel the delightful impact of her own pleasure. Her whimpers grew louder and louder, even as Tommy slowed down and finally came to a halt, collapsing on top of her.
Nick stood there, running his hands through Trudy's hair, shaking slightly. His eye remained glued to the peephole, staring at the two stoned young lovers as they both quieted down. They lay next to each other, breathing heavily and not saying a word. As far as he was concerned, the entire episode had been better than any skin flick he had ever seen or imagined.
Finally, he replaced the peephole, hung up the picture and got off the bed. "A bit of a voyeur, I see," Trudy chided him with a laugh.
"It takes all kinds," Prescott said, exhausted by his workout. When he came out of the shower, Trudy was already fast asleep. He lay down next to her and she mumbled incoherently, snuggling up to him. Prescott closed his eyes and wondered what was going to become of them.
At three in the morning he was awakened by the telephone. Three shrills rings interrupted a dream and Nick reached out blindly, wondering who could be bothering him at such an ungodly hour.
"Prescott, Ryan here," he heard the night clerk say. "I'm sorry to disturb you and Miss ... but we've been getting all sorts of angry complaints from some of the guests."
"What about?" the house detective mumbled.
"Seems the Marnham's are acting up. Loud screams, broken glasses, that sort of thing. Probably another drunken brawl, but I'd appreciate it if you'd go to their room and see if you can do anything. It's bad for business."
"Sure, sure," Nick groaned. "The Hotel Wilde, above and beyond." He slammed down the receiver, glad to see that Trudy was still asleep. Moving quietly, he got out of bed and threw on his robe, stuck his feet in a pair of slippers and tiptoed out of the room, heading for 712.
Standing in front of their door he heard Mrs. Marnham screaming angrily cursing her husband. He seemed to slap her and she moaned all the more. Nick drew himself up to his full six feet and knocked briskly on the door.
"Who the fuck's there?" Marnham called out, obviously annoyed, angry that he was being disturbed.
"House detective," Prescott said with an official swagger, exhaling loudly.
The door opened and Joey Marnham stood there with a grimace on his face. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was disheveled and Nick could just about see the man's wife huddling under the bedcovers on the other side of the room.
"What's the problem?" he asked, opening his eyes wider when he recognized Prescott. "So it's you again. What's your story, mac? You like to bug the guests?"
"Only when other guests are concerned," Prescott said coldly. "We've had complaints of some rather ... rather loud noises coming from your room."
"Oh, is that so? Well, it so happens that I was boffing my wife, if you want to know the truth, buddy. What are you, some kind of queer comin' around and botherin' people?"
"Another guest complained of violent screams," Nick went on.
"Honey, you hear this character? Were you screamin' before?"
She nodded her head from side to side, suddenly winking at Prescott. Both men caught the visual contact and Joey was immediately incensed. Acting impetuously, the tall overly muscled man grabbed Nick around the neck and pulled him into the room, locking the door.
"I don't like your looks," he told Prescott, grinning evilly. He went to swing his fist but his wife interrupted, speaking up in a wavering tremulous voice.
"But I do, Joey. I think he's rather attractive."
Prescott smiled at her, standing with his hands on his hips and displaying a good-sized bulge beneath his robe. He hoped Marnham was versatile, for he had his heart set on getting into Mrs. Marnham's drawers, come hell or high water as the expression so aptly puts it.
"Oh ya do, do ya?" he said. "Well then, we'll see about that." He already was scheming and now he lunged out and threw Prescott onto the bed. The house dick hit the mattress and reached forward, his hands coming in contact with one of Mrs. Marnham's thighs.
"Not so violent," he said, but Marnham only stood there, one fist raised in the air. Everytime Nick tried to get to his feet, the taller man pushed him down on the bed.
"You like my little wifey, don't you?" he went on. "And I bet she's hot for you, too. Aren't you, you smelly little cunt!"
Mrs. Marnham visibly cringed, the covers reaching up to her neck. Nick wasn't sure what he had gotten himself into. He silently cursed Ryan for ever bothering him and stayed on the bed, hoping for the best. Just the closeness of the woman's body excited him and he longed to reach out and touch her, longed to fondle her breasts and stuff his face full of her hairy muff.
The excitement of the moment and the strangeness of his predicament, all added up to make him acutely aware of everything that was happening. His cock kept rising up, growing larger and thicker inside his robe.
"You ever been whipped, flatfoot?" Marnham asked.
Prescott said that he hadn't and Marnham grinned even more, displaying large white perfectly aligned teeth, teeth that Nick had seen used to inflict considerable pain on the woman's tender clitoris. He kept thinking of Marnham as if he was an ape, a gorilla or a wild-man without principles or scruples, acting from the basest core of sensual perversion, much like Trudy's assailant.
And when the man went to the steamer trunk Nick had seen Mrs. Marnham dragging through the lobby, he was momentarily frightened. When Josey opened the trunk, his back to the bed, Nick quickly got in a feel, reaching out to squeeze the woman's high pointy tits. She squealed softly, not at all put off.
But things weren't going to be that pleasant, after all.
Nick decided that he had gotten himself into something he couldn't handle. The bear-like Joey Marnham pulled out a long thin leather whip, a lash with a braided handle which he tested, flicking it out into the air. The whip hissed like a snake and Prescott tried to edge away, hoping to get to the door in time.
But before he could move, he was caught by the stinging leather lash. It hit him right across the small of his back, knocking out his breath and nearly ripping through his bathrobe. "Oh yes, you'll get pussy, all right," Marnham told him with a laugh. "Lots of pussy you little twirp."
Prescott was far from little, but he was now in no position to fight back. Every time he tried to scramble off the bed, the man raised the whip above his head and brought it down with a loud and resounding crash. Nick screamed out as it tore into him. But when he glanced at the silent Mrs. Marnham, he could see the sudden gleam in her eyes.
The little cunt loves it, he thought to himself, turning once again to glance back at Joey. And sure enough, Mr. Marnham was getting turned on as well. Already, the house detective noted how the man's enormous cock was ballooning up between his thighs, poking forward behind the towel wrapped around his waist.
Sick pigs, he thought to himself, deciding to take matters into his own hands. Quickly, not asking permission, he ripped the covers down, exposing Mrs. Marnham's lush naked body. It was less bony than he had first thought, still shining with sweat from her strenuous workout.
Joey lashed out, hitting him across the shoulders, but this time Nick was hardly aware of the pain. He kept staring at the woman's pussy, bending down and grabbing her thighs. He wrenched them violently apart and dived forward, his mouth and nose nuzzling the damp hairy surface of her pussy. That her cunt was still filled with spunk only added to Nick's enjoyment and he slurped eagerly as the man behind him held back, the whip raised above his head, looking down at Nick with an incredulous expression on his face.
He hadn't expected Prescott to be so aggressive and now he stared as the man kept licking his wife's snatch, sucking up come and cunt juice and smacking his lips. He finally brought down the lash, slamming it across the detective's ass.
Prescott screamed, but the sudden warmth on his buttocks only added to his fervor and more inflamed than ever, he kept sliding his tongue in and out of Mrs. Marnham's pussy. She pushed forward, obviously enjoying herself.
"Do it, mister," she told him heatedly. "And my ass. Don't forget my ass. Joey never rims me. He fucks me there but he's never sucked out my ass. Eat me out; do it now."
Marnham was amazed at his wife. He knew she was a hot blooded bitch, but he had never seen her in action with another man. The sight excited him almost as much as Nick was aroused. In fact, he pushed the man down, forcing him to slurp his way in and out of his wife's pussy.
"You heard the little lady," he told Nick. "Rim her, you cocksucker. Suck on her buns. Stuff your tongue up her ass!"
Nick wasn't loathe to do it. He had a certain taste for anal matters and so he lifted Mrs. Marnham's legs over his shoulders, suddenly curious what her name was as he looked down into her bum furrow. It was less hairy than her pussy, but the hairs which grew inside her chink were the same light brown color.
Wildly excited, the woman shoved her ass in his face and he pulled apart the soft round white cheeks of her butt and looked down, examining the puckered pink hole which she was so fond of getting stimulated. He took a deep breath, hoped that she was clean and not gamey and bent down into place.
His tongue thrust forward and as soon as he stared swabbing the woman's swirling tight little anus, she loosened her muscles as if to fart in his face. But she was not as gross as Nick's imagination. Rather, she was encouraging him to piston his tongue right inside her ass.
Nick did that. But not for long.
First he licked up and down, moistening her hole before pushing forward. The puckers relaxed and became less tight and as Mrs. Marnham wiggled her buns back and forth, Nick finally consented. His tongue dipped forward, the pointy edge pushing apart the anal constrictions until he was feeling up the inside of her rectum. Sponging her dry anal walls made her tremble violently and she squeezed her legs around his neck, almost choking him.
He pried them apart and kept licking. When her hole was fully moistened, lubricated with his abundant juicy spittle, he pulled his tongue out and slowly and methodically inserted his extended middle finger. He was suddenly aware that Joey was leaning over him, watching what he was doing.
But he tried to ignore the other man, even though-out of the corner of his eye-he saw that Marnham's towel had dropped away and the man was totally naked, his penis just as swollen and filled with blood as it had been when he had first attacked his wife.
Feeling ill at ease, but nevertheless considerably aroused, Prescott pressed on. Mrs. Marnham responded to the penetrating finger by clamping her sphincter muscles tightly around it, the inside of her ass feeling like the inside of a mouth. There was a certain rubbery quality to it which Prescott found pleasing. The rectal walls were spongy and thicker than he had first thought, soft and agreeably yielding.
"Another," Joey Marnham leaned over to whisper.
Rather than suffer the whip, Nick consented with eagerness, a willingness to please both of them. He slowly inserted another finger into the woman's butt. She squirmed madly around, as if to escape him, but when her husband pushed her down on the bed, she stopped moving, trying to relax.
Nick felt the second finger drilling in and out of the woman's ass and he glanced up at Mrs. Marnham. Her eyes were closed, her lips tightly clenched as he felt the rolling pulsations of her anus. The muscles were fibrillating violently, squeezing against his finger as he took matters into his own hands.
Without wasting any more time he pushed in yet a third finger, stretching the walls of her butt widely so that the tiny puckered hole he had first glanced at was now as big around as a widely opened mouth. He knew there was room for more and when Mr. Marnham got up and went into the bathroom, Nick had a premonition of what he was going to bring out.
"I've never seen this done before," he said to the hotel detective as if Nick was performing an experiment. He squeezed some clear jellylike lubricant onto Nick's fingers and using this he pushed in his little finger.
Mrs. Marnham opened her eyes and looked between her legs with considerable shock. "What are you doing!" she screamed.
"He's gonna fist-fuck you, sugar," her husband said with a laugh, urging Nick on.
Nick had done this only once before and it excited him strangely. Not turned on to violence per se, he was nevertheless susceptible to kinky sexual scenes. And this was how he saw it. His thumb wiggled back and forth, trying to find a place to get inside along with the other four fingers.
And when he squeezed it up against his palm, his hand flat and inside her ass up to the last knuckle, Mrs. Marnham gave a convulsive shudder and a fresh gush of cunt juice poured down the walls of her pussy.
Both men were incredibly aroused. Mrs. Marnham looked from one to the other, wishing that Nick would take off his clothes. Despite the five fingers which now wiggled up in her ass, she felt little pain, as if her bottom had been anesthetized.
"How does it feel?" her husband asked, moving towards her with his great rolling pin of a cock jutting out from between his thighs.
"Strange," she whispered as she watched Nick concentrating.
He couldn't believe that Mrs. Marnham was able to take all of his fingers, especially now that he was slowly working them up into a fist. But when he glanced back at her husband and took another appraising look at the guy's over-large penis, he realized that the gaping opening he had made in her ass was not that much wider than the thickness of her husband's pecker.
Encouraged by this arcane comparison, he pushed forward as she suddenly screamed out. But it was too late. Her husband had returned to his favorite sport and he took the opportunity to stuff his red-tipped erection right into her mouth.
She sucked on it greedily, filled with a growing fuck-hunger as Nick pushed his fist further down, the last knuckle inside of her as he tried to work his hand in to the wrist. It took considerable doing and he stopped to let her relax.
But she was so involved in sucking on her husband's cock and playing with his heavy weighty nuts that she acted as if she was unaware of what Prescott was doing. So as the two of them thrust back and forth on the bed-Joey pumping his dick into his wife's mouth as she pushed her head towards him and nearly choked on his tool-Nick began to get into the swing of things.
With his one free hand-never stopping the seemingly endless slow and careful in and out motions of his hand, now ensheathed in the tight warmth of her butt, all the way up to the wrist-he began to undo the ties of his robe. He felt that the moment was ripe and he wiggled his arms free. With his one free hand, he managed to untie the robe.
It took more work than he had counted on. But he was ignored by the couple as he finally got the robe all the way off. He was glad that he hadn't bothered to slip on undershorts or pants, totally naked beneath the terry cloth robe. His fist was still pumping in and out of her backside and he was on the bed, totally naked.
At first, no one noticed.
Nick pushed harder and this time Mrs. Marnham screamed out. Her husband glanced back at Nick, his cock still between his wife's eager sucking lips. "You horny cocksucker," he laughed, obviously pleased that the house detective had taken the initiative and had taken off his robe. "We're gonna have ourselves a real hot little party, mister," he went on to say and Nick looked at him and nodded his head, aware of the pain which was ebbing through his body, the pain that had been caused by Joey Marnham's predisposition for acts of sadism.
As if in retaliation he pounded his hand forward, past the wrist as the woman clenched and screamed, her legs jerking about like a marionette whose strings have suddenly been cut. "It's good for you," her husband said with the same repugnant smirk on his face. "Just keep sucking baby. This guy's gonna do a whole number on ya."
He kept slugging his dick in and out of her mouth as Nick worked on her ass. And, at the same time he used his other hand to gradually excite and titillate her pussy. He tweaked her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger, rolled it about as if it were a marble and Mrs. Marnham's groans of pain were gradually drowned out in a rising chorus of whimpers and squeals of passion.
Her muff was juicy and it felt as if he was sloshing around inside of a barrel of water as he poked his finger in and out, rubbing it along the walls of her pussy, paying particular attention to her clit and the puffy ragged-edged lips of her vagina.
"Do it, you horny cocksucker," Marnham encouraged, having come to the realization that his wife really couldn't take too much more fist-fucking. "Drown her in it. Pound it down into place. Nina loves it."
Nina, Prescott thought to himself. Nick and Nina. How appropriate.
He slowly pulled his hand out, taking his time as the waves of muscular contractions reminded him of a woman giving birth to a child. Only it was his fist which finally merged from between the widely gaping cheeks of her ass. His hand was covered with a brownish slime and he wiped it dry on the sheets before bounding into position.
Hoping that Joey wouldn't change his mind, Nick wedged Nina's thighs apart, maneuvering himself down into place. She was still busy working on her husband's cock, but as soon as she felt the round blood-engorged head of the house dick's pecker touching the opening to her pussy, she looked down between her legs.
Joey looked as well, fascinated by the sight. He had never imagined himself in such a situation, for he had swapped wives often enough, but had always gone to separate bedrooms to enjoy his uninhibited sexual tastes.
Now, he was plainly turned on and he pushed his dick down into his wife's mouth, holding it there as Nick took hold of his dong and began to rub it back and forth across the gaping cunt furrow which awaited the thick length of his virile tool.
"That's it," Marnham told the detective. "None of this one-two-three shit. Get the cunt good and excited. She drips like a motherfucker, let me tell you. You'll be sloshing around in a puddle of come in another minute."
Prescott didn't doubt him.
He kept rubbing the bulbous head of his cock back and forth, tickling Nina's clit and driving her crazy. Her hips were pumping upwards, trying to engulf his tool as he kept teasing her, never sticking his cock into place. The steady friction along her cunt furrow brought on a fresh deluge of sap, lubricating her channel.
Finally, Nick pushed forward, lodging the head of his cock right against her vulva. The tissues inside quivered around his sensitive glans and he breathed deeply as she kept lapping on her husband's cock urging him on.
"Do it, man!" Joey called out, burning, his groin on fire as he watched the virile burly Prescott suddenly take a deep breath and slam down. Nick began to funnel his pecker into place, stuffing it forward as he braced himself on the palms of his hands.
His legs were stretched out behind him. His forearms were rigid and sweat trickled down his hairy chest as he kept pushing forward, pumping inch after thick hot inch of his meat right into Nina's wet tight pussy. He groaned loudly, shoved down with a forceful almost vicious lunge and fell against her, the entire bulky length of his hot eight-inch cunt-rammer buried down in place.
"Shit, beautiful," he mumbled, feeling the way she worked her cunt muscles around his pole, dragging him down into her as he began to piston back and forth. He used short dog-like strokes, jerky, jabbing strokes which gave both of them the maximum amount of pleasure.
The elasticity of her cunt walls made it possible for her to grip his shaft and she kept milking him as he kept pounding into her, hearing the sound of his heavy furry nuts crashing down against her ass, one loud battering plop after another.
Joey watched, his eyes glazed over, his breath coming in short sweet gasps. He was unbelievably excited, never before having seen another man fucking his wife.
The guy's got technique, all right, he thought to himself, admiring Prescott as he kept up a smooth steady rhythm, pumping and ramming in and out of Nina's snatch until her skin was glowing once again and she was just about ready to come. She still had a mouthful of cock and she tried to bring her husband off as she felt the man moving inside of her, penetrating almost as deeply as her husband had.
As for Nick, he felt the come-smeared interior of Nina's mushy hole and it drove him up a wall. He could feel the way his cock-skin was stretched, taut and firm over his stem as he kept shunting his pole into her, increasing the speed of his strokes as his hands came up to latch onto her tits. He played with them as if they were handles, fingering the bright red nipples with his hands as he ground his belly down against her.
The hairs on his groin frictioned her hairless skin and this, coupled with the extreme amount of pressure and friction she derived from the rapid movements of his cock, soon brought Nina to her climax. Unable to talk, her mouth continually bombarded with her husband's enormous ivory-white phallus, she gurgled hotly and shoved her hips forward.
"Here she goes!" Joey yelled out, recognizing the signs of his wife's orgasm by the way her chest rose and fell and her legs jerked and twitched as Prescott lay between them.
Nick felt the juices seeping down, coating his shaft anew as he felt his own climax readying itself, his come foaming in his balls. His nuts felt strangely bloated and then they cooled and he lost control. With a bull-like roar of delight, he shoved forward, half of his pubic bush swallowed between the lips of Nina's twat as he began to come.
"Yes, feel it. Holy shit, now. What a fuckin' load! Come, baby. Nice and hot, tasty, all this fucking come for you!" he screamed as he looked up and saw Joey's beady eyes, heard the man gasping as he slammed his cock down his wife's throat and started to come as well.
The two of them were shooting, bolts of come soaring like lightning out of their dicks to gush into Nina's mouth and pussy. Nick kept trembling, feeling his climax making him weak as he kept shooting. He saw a milky-white dribble of semen trickle out of the corner of the woman's mouth and he smiled to himself, relishing the way Joey quivered and moved back and forth, moaning and crying out as he kept spurting his load.
"Baby, you're too fucking much," Joey told her as his cock began to go half-erect and he pulled it out of her mouth. Nina fell back on the bed, gasping for breath. Nick stayed inside of her, relishing the new sensation of her cunt, a cunt that was now filled with gism his spunk as well as her own slimy thin liquid cream.
When he pulled away, he left a thin trail of after-come like the track of a snail. Nick got to his feet and looked at Nina. Her eyes were closed and he smiled to himself, turning towards the bathroom. He decided that everything had worked out better than he had expected.
At least no one's gonna complain any more tonight, he thought.
But he had a lot of complaining to do when he got back to his room. Trudy was gone.
CHAPTER IV
At first, Nick just stood there, dumb with disbelief. Then he checked the bathroom, the closets, the dresser drawers. All of Trudy's clothes were gone, but under the pillow on the unmade bed he found a hastily scrawled note.
"Will call in the morning. Can't explain. Don't worry. I love you, Trudy."
Too exhausted from his bout of infidelity-as he saw it now-with the Marnham's, Nick crawled into bed, praying that everything would work out, hoping that nothing had happened to Trudy Heath now that he had found someone, someone who really counted.
Nick was dreaming of Trudy, planning countless exotic erotic entertainments with which they would amuse themselves, when someone began knocking on the door to his room. At first, he thought it was in the dream. But when the knocking persisted, he blearily opened his eyes, glad that it was Sunday and he wouldn't have to report for duty.
The little shits know I don't like to be disturbed, he thought to himself, calling out to find out who was there. A voice replied that it was the maid come to change the linen.
Why hasn't Trudy called? he thought to himself, glancing at the alarm clock. It was already past ten and the phone hadn't rung. Bleary-eyed, he heard the maid calling out again. Strange, he thought. I can't place the voice.
He knew all the people who worked at the hotel and his ears perked up. This was someone new. He yawned and stretched his arms. "Just a minute," he called out as the maid waited outside of his door. He pulled the covers back and got out of the bed, glancing down with a smile at this morning cockstand.
He hadn't pissed yet and his cock stood up between his grizzly thighs, stiff and erect in all its glory. Accustomed to sleeping in the nude, he decided to have his fun at the expense of the woman who waited outside his door. Not bothering to put on his bathrobe, Prescott went to the door and grabbed hold of the knob.
At the worst, he decided it would be good for a laugh. And God knows, he said to himself, that's something I could really use. Why hasn't she called? Where the fuck is she?
Quickly, he flung the door open and stepped back, his arm sweeping down to usher her in. At first, she didn't seem to notice. She kept her eyes down, looking timid. She was older than he had suspected, a rather dumpy looking woman in her late thirties or early forties. Her hair was streaked with gray, pulled back into a tight and severe little knot. She reminded Nick of a German hausfrau and disappointed, he waited for her to drag her cleaning cart into the room. It was piled with fresh towels, linens and other supplies.
But as he stood over the sink, surveying the wreckage of the previous evening's strenuous entertainment, something seemed to click. Holding his breath, he dropped down into a crouch, pressing his eye to the keyhole.
Sure enough, his suspicions were not in vain. For at that moment, the short stoutish woman was busily opening and closing the dresser drawers. She found the crumpled note Trudy had left, read it quickly and began to move her cart back towards the door. But Nick was too fast for her.
In an instant he bounded out of the bathroom, his huge pendulous and red-tipped cock looking for all the world like a weapon. He flung himself on her, grasping her around the waist as she spun around and tried to get away from him.
"Not so fast, lady," he said gruffly.
"Let go of me!" she yelled, reaching down to the pocket of her skirt. Suddenly she pulled out a short single-bladed knife, lashing out at him.
Nick wasn't about to give up. His eyes glimmered, taking on a fierceness as he stepped back, looking for a weapon. The woman began to laugh, holding up the gleaming knife blade, moving towards him. "You're getting in the way, mister," she said. "We need cooperation and you're getting in the way." She laughed, reminding Nick of a witch as she ran towards him, her heavy black work shoes banging on the floor.
He picked up the sheets and threw them at her, trying to grab hold of her wrist. He shook her arm, twisted it back as she cursed him. The knife clattered to the floor and he held her with the blankets covering her face, pushing her towards the bed. He kicked the knife under the bed and threw her down on the mattress, pinning her there as he quickly straddled her.
Then he pulled off the sheets, pressing her arms down with his knees. "Okay, bitch," he said, trying to catch his breath.
She bit down on her lower lip and then spat at him. But he wasn't about to be intimidated. Every time the woman tried to get away, he pushed his knees down against her arms, blocking off the supply of blood and making her scream with the sudden searing pain.
"Who sent you? What were you looking for?"
She refused to talk.
Violet, he thought. Trudy's aunt must have sent her here to find out about her niece. "You know what I'm going to do if you don't talk," he said, "I'm going to rape the shit out of you, lady. You're gonna fucking bleed." He reached down and ripped open the buttons on her uniform.
The woman continued to put up a fight, banging her fists back and forth. But Nick was in control, sitting on top of her. He was surprised she didn't scream, but he figured that she thought she still might be able to get away from him. She clenched her teeth and her knuckles went white and bloodless as she tried to hit him. But all her blows landed on the mattress, her arms pinned to her sides, numb with pain.
There was only one thing to do, Nick realized. And that was to use the same kind of tactics Joey Marnham was so fond of. He raised his hand and slammed it down across the woman's face. Her head fell back and she moaned. "Not as young as you used to be, shit!" he snarled, growling angrily as he ripped off the top half of her black satin uniform.
The woman tried to pull away. "I'll kill you," she moaned.
"Who sent you?" he said again, shoving the top part of her uniform down to her waist. Encased in a white brassiere were two large flabby tits. His fingers itched as he stared at them and unable to control what he felt was a sudden streak of sadism, his cock twitching up and down as if it was having a fit all its own, Nick reached out and squeezed the woman's boobs mercilessly.
He pinched the outline of her cowlike nipples, more like udders than tits. Her skin was loose and liver-spotted, nothing to get him worked up about. But he wanted to torment her, wanted to know who had sent her and what Violet planned to do about Trudy.
"You're not going to enjoy this," he promised her. "You're a fucking cow and cows have to be treated rough, like this." And saying this he slapped her once again, her head rolling back like a rag doll's as she closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling in short gut-wrenching spasms. "In fact, I'm gonna teach you something about people, lady." He reached behind her to unhook her bra.
She didn't say anything, opening her eyes to glare at him, her lips curling back as if she was an animal, caged but not so easily tamed or subdued. Nick peeled her bra off and her round heavy boobs fell forward, spilling over her sides. Nick sucked in his breath, staring down at them.
He began to pull at the nipples, pinching them angrily, watching the woman's anguish as he kept ripping at her boobs with his fingernails. Her moans rose up, louder than before, but all her strenuous tossing and turning got her nowhere. Nick was in command and he breathed harshly, his hot air fanning her jugs as he kept pinching her nipples, dark brown and hanging down a good two inches on each flabby teat.
"You won't get away with this," she told him.
"You won't either, lady. Not when I get done with you. But you have a choice. Tell me who sent you and what they wanted and I'll let you go. I won't even bother the cops with small fry like you. Just open your mouth and tell me and I'll call it quits."
"Fuck you!" she spat out at him.
"Whatever you say," and he laughed sadistically. He felt himself breaking out in a sweat, filled with more anger and venom than he had ever thought himself capable of. His skin felt hot and itchy and the itch spread, burning with a fury as he slowly pulled the rest of her uniform down off of her hips, letting it fall to the floor.
She sank back, almost as if she was giving up, accepting the inevitable. Nick didn't buy that, though. He knew she was planning something else and he slipped down so that he was lying on top of her, the tip of his cock brushing languidly against her belly as he opened his mouth.
He bent forward and grabbed hold of one nipple between his teeth, clamping down on it. She kept crying out, looking down at his cock for the first time.
"A deal," she whispered. "I'll make a deal."
"What kind of deal?" he asked, throwing her legs up so that he was able to push the head of his cock right between the low-slung and heavy cheeks of her ass. He pressed it against her asshole and she kept clawing at him, trying to break away.
"Let me go and I'll tell you ..."
"What?"
"Let me go first," she insisted, trying to pull away.
"Not a chance," Prescott told her. He pushed forward, realizing that she had been stalling for time. The woman screamed out as she felt the round blood-engorged head of his cock slamming down into her ass, ripping open the folds of her anus as he kept pumping forward. "Last chance," Nick said, shoving with all of his weight.
"Yes! Yes! Just stop!" she pleaded.
His cock was buried halfway into her butt and he licked his lips, savoring the warmth and surprising tightness of the woman's asshole. The walls of her bottom gripped his meaty shaft and he was sorry that he might have to stop. "Go on. No more bullshitting," he snorted.
"The girl's aunt sent me. Violet. Violet Heath. That's all I know," the woman told him.
"And where is Violet now?" he asked, shoving forward so that she moaned again with the pain of his unlubricated cock attacking her tender hole.
"The penthouse suite at the Hotel Le-Grande," the woman muttered feebly; "that's all I know."
Nick smiled and eased his dick slowly out. It plopped out into the open and the woman fell back, closing her eyes. Prescott got to his feet and threw the uniform at her. "Get dressed, lady. And you can tell Violet that her niece has left the country to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday."
* * *
Trudy called a little after five o'clock that evening. "Where the fuck are you?" Nick asked, picking up the phone on the first ring. "I've been holing up in here all day, waiting for you."
"I can't talk now," she whispered. "I thought I would leave the country and have you meet me, but when I got out to the airport, I found out she had people waiting there. I feel so cornered, Nick."
"Where are you now? Let me meet you. I'll think of something," he said.
"This girl I know from college is an artist. I'm at her place. She's giving a party." She gave him the address and less than an hour later Prescott found himself walking up three flights of stairs which led to a loft.
"You must be Nick Prescott, boy wonder. Trudy's told me all about you," a young woman said to him, extending her hand. "I'm Stacy Roberts. So glad you could come."
"So am I," he said. "Where's Trudy?" He felt nervous and uncomfortable. He was sure that the cab he had taken downtown had been followed and even though he had told the driver to let him off several blocks from Stacy's loft, he still suspected that whoever was tailing him had located the artist's studio.
Now, as he stood by the door, he scanned the crowd, looking for Trudy. She saw him from the far end of the room and elbowed her way through the guests, throwing her arms around him, burying her face in his neck.
"I thought you'd never get here," she whispered, leading him off into an L-shaped alcove where they could talk.
"Why did you leave like that, without telling me anything?" he asked her, holding her face in his hands. He felt the same pull, the same kind of electricity between them. This time, he vowed that he wouldn't let her out of his sight.
"I was so confused, Nick. I couldn't sleep and then when you didn't come back right away I got scared. I didn't know what had happened to you. And at the airport it was all like a nightmare. She really means business, Nick. She saw people watching, everywhere!"
He wondered if she was exaggerating. Her face was flushed and he smelled liquor on her breath. In fact, the more he looked at her, the more convinced he became that she was drunk. Prescott decided to say nothing about the woman with the knife, that and the fact that he had been followed.
"I'll figure out something," he said again.
"Don't be party poopers, now!" Stacy Roberts said, coming up to them and hooking her arm through Trudy's. She was a tall lanky woman with close-cropped short hair, a definite mannish way about her that made Nick uncomfortable.
"Go meet the guests," she went on to say, laughing loudly.
Her laugh had a strangely hollow and metallic ring to it, like a flawed bell, somehow cracked. Nick wondered if everything was becoming distorted due to his own fears, or if things weren't the way they should have been. But he maintained his calm, looking cool and confident as he kept smiling at his hostess.
"Trudy tells me you're a detective," she said. "I love mysteries."
"I don't," he grunted, turning away from her. He moved off into the larger room, sitting down on a couch and watching, almost studying, the other guests. Most of them were somewhere between twenty and thirty and as he sat back, he smelled marijuana and amyl nitrate poppers, even as the guests kept drinking. Handed a glass of something bubbly, he drank it down as the music began to swell, pounding in his temples.
He felt oddly groggy, almost drugged and he didn't see Trudy. He drank some more, feeling far less inhibited than when he had first walked in. And when he found the bathroom, needing to piss off some of the stuff he had guzzled down, Prescott found himself. He stared intently, his interest mounting.
She sure knows a helluva lot of swingers, he thought to himself. For there in the bathtub a guy and a chick with long stringy black hair were going at it like mad. Prescott wanted to laugh. Their clothes were around their ankles and they kept banging elbows and knees against the sides of the tub.
But the young man kept shoving it into her, his backside jiggling back and forth as Nick saw his balls smacking against the girl's thighs. They both turned to stare at him, not at all nonplussed.
"Don't mind me," he grinned, staggering towards the toilet and pulling down his zipper. He heaved out his cock, surprised that it was already half-erect. He had trouble peeing and he finally gave up and leaned over the tub. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the of the girl's tits, squeezing it between his fingers.
"Anytime," the girl giggled. She lifted her hand and began to caress Prescott's cock. It hung out of his pants, growing harder with each passing second. The guy was still into her, his face hidden as he kept groaning, ramming his cock in and out of her snatch.
Prescott laughed once again and stuffed his meat back in his pants. He closed the bathroom door behind him, but when he looked around, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Clothes were strewn about the loft and nearly everyone of the thirty or forty guests were rolling about on the floor.
They were all stark naked and Nick couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen some pretty fancy goings on at the hotel, but nothing to even compare with what he immediately decided was a fucking mind blowing orgy. And when he kept looking, he caught a glimpse of Trudy Heath, laughing drunkenly, right in the midst of the crowd.
He saw cocks in various states of erection, cunts of all colors and sizes and shapes. Not thinking twice, Nick pulled off his clothes, feeling wonderfully aroused. For the moment, he shelved his fears and apprehensions. Throwing his things down on the floor, he literally dived into the squirming seething mass of naked humanity.
The orgy was going full swing and he found it exciting just to move through the tangle of arms and legs. People reached up and groped him, touched every part of his body. One finger started after his cock, while another probed the hairy crevice between the cheeks of his ass. He felt his nuts hardening as someone tried to thrust a finger up his anus. Nick shoved backwards and the finger, already moistened, slipped right inside, tickling his prostate gland.
He turned his head around to see a woman smiling at him. But before he could say or do anything else, he bent down, losing his balance. Sprawled across the floor, feeling drunker and giddier than before, he wrenched open a pair of long shapely thighs. His head bent down and within an instant he found himself sponging a thickly haired twat, licking away like a kitten over a saucer of milk.
The cunt had what he decided was the most amazing set of ragged-edged lips, dark scarlet in color, projecting outwards like lapels. He couldn't see the girl's face in the crush of bodies, but he knew it really didn't matter. There were no identities here, only bodies, willing sensual vessels of depravity.
Accordingly, he didn't think twice about what he was doing or what people were doing to him. He just started licking, sucking away and lapping along the woman's cunt furrow until he felt her clit growing longer and harder, distended and filled with blood. She squirmed towards his eager hungry mouth, wrapping her legs over his shoulders.
Nick kept nibbling as he suddenly felt someone pulling his legs apart. Within a second a mouth was attacking his ass. He felt himself getting rimmed and he kept pushing backwards, stuffing someone's face with his hard and easily excitable backside.
And then another mouth worked its way into position, even as his ass was tongued and eaten out. The lips fastened themselves around his stiff rigid pecker, sucking him off with loud hungry gulps. Nick kept working on the woman's pussy, unable to move.
The set of lips which surrounded his dick began slobbering with even more excitement, sucking away and creating a tight suction, a kind of vacuum which seemed to draw his cock farther and farther down inside the mouth. Someone was on his tits as well, nibbling on them sensually, licking circles around each one until they rose up, hard and pointy from the tangle of his chest hair.
Nick Prescott couldn't believe what was happening.
No one was talking, their lips and tongues doing all the communication necessary. Having never been involved in such a frenzied group sex scene, he was at a loss for words. Every part of his body, every erogenous zone, was being constantly bombarded by stimulus. The whole effect was like a dream.
His mouth moved down past the two cunt lips which had first attracted his attention. He licked lower, trying to reach the woman's damp musky asshole. He was able to see a large pink bottom-hole, puckered like the swirling petals on a flower.
As soon as he touched it with the tip of his tongue, the woman began to jerk her legs convulsively around his waist, urging him on. Nick pulled his cock away from the lips which kept sucking on it, trying to get into position. The woman's face was hidden, working on another's guy's pecker as he angled his tool into place.
Working quickly, hoping she wasn't about to change her mind, Nick pushed the bulbous head of his stiff unruly prick right up to the woman's pink puckered hole. He shoved forward, centering his weight at his hips.
The woman gave a little shriek of pain and surprise, but he kept going, not about to stop now that the head of his thick penis was already in place, buried inside the woman's damp tight hole. He kept pumping, guiding more and more of his meat into place. He didn't stop until he was all the way inside, the woman holding him around the waist, working her sphincter muscles as if to milk him before he had even started.
He held her tightly so that she couldn't get out of his grip. Then, he really let go and began pounding into her, faster and faster. But even as he kept grinding his cock down the long hot funnel of her ass, Nick felt someone's finger prodding his own backside. Another pair of lips moved into place, licking up and down his anal furrow.
A finger was also pushing into his bottom-hole and he turned his head quickly around, hearing the frenzied groans of pleasure and excitement which rose up around him. But he was surprised to find the dykish-looking Stacy Roberts staring him in the eye.
"I couldn't resist," she laughed, bending down again and cork-screwing her middle finger right up his ass.
"Go right ahead," he encouraged her, turning back to the task at hand. He kept thrusting forward, bucking and snorting as he got hotter and hotter, unable to control himself. His skin felt as if it was being ripped out, stretched red and bleeding inside the woman's ass. And as he continued to pound into her, Nick could feel her getting ready to come. She moaned much louder now, squeezing her anal muscles tightly around his shaft.
"Do it, baby," he heard her say. "Fill me, go-dammit do it! Shoot! Come! I can't hold back oh shit, yes. Yes!"
Her screams filled his ears and as Stacy kept fingering his ass, Nick finally let go. He gave a forceful shove forward, felt himself scraping down into her bottom and suddenly let loose. His come seemed to roar out of his cock, great slobbering bursts of gism which poured into her heaving butt as he shook on top of her, unable to control his excitement.
"Feel it, lady. Oh yes, now, what a fuck, what a great fucking ass!" he yelled, drooling, his saliva dripping onto her back as he kept shooting, one thick ejaculation following another.
Stacy never stopped playing with his bottom-hole and when Prescott had drained himself dry, giving his all, he pulled his half limp cock out of the woman's asshole and fell back on the floor, too exhausted to move.
Slowly, Stacy removed her finger, looking down at him. "You're really something else, kiddo. No wonder Trudy can't stop talking about you. You're one helluva stud, Prescott."
Somehow, the words didn't ring right in his head. Prescott didn't smile. He lay on the floor, smelling come and reek and the overwhelming smell of physical contact and excitement. He closed his eyes, wondering why he was suddenly so afraid.
CHAPTER V
"You did beautifully, Marta," Violet Heath told the woman who stood in front of her, her hands behind her back. "And I don't doubt for one second that Mr. Nick Prescott will fall for it."
"I made sure to get him worked up before I told him where you were staying, Violet," she replied, glad that she had done a good job in conning Trudy Heath's new protector. "He now knows where you can be reached. It's just a matter of time."
"Exactly. Because with Mr. Prescott out of the way, my niece will have no one to depend on. I'll show that little bitch what she's up against. She'll fall into my trap just like the spider and the fly."
Violet Heath paced back and forth the hotel room, her silver lame mules flopping as Marta stood docilely by, waiting for more instructions. She was wearing a floor-length peignoir and through the loose folds of delicate lacy material, Marta Braun could see her employer's lush matronly breast. They rose and fell as Violet walked back and forth, deciding on her next move.
"You see, Marta my sweet, murder isn't a very simple business. If Trudy is found murdered, the police will naturally come looking for me. I'm the prime suspect. But if we can implicate Mr. Prescott, make it look like a crime of passion or some such rot, I'll be able to get out scott free. And the inheritance will be mine.
"But first we have to get them here," she went on to say, slowly rubbing her hands up and down her flanks. She turned suddenly on her heel and stared intently at Marta. "Well, what do you think?"
"Flanders called an hour ago. He tailed Prescott to a loft downtown. Obviously, he's gone for a little rendezvous."
"Perfect, and if I know Prescott, he realized he was being tailed. He won't take any risks, like hustling Trudy out of the city before we can get a hold of them. No, Marta. It's all working out beautifully," and saying this she moved up to the woman, putting her hands on Marta's shoulders.
"You know how much I want to please you,
Violet," the woman said. "I worship you. I would do anything to make you happy."
"Anything is what I want, my dear," Violet Heath replied. She suddenly threw her head back and began to laugh. "Men are fools. All they have are cocks, no brains at all." She stood there, not moving, almost waiting for Marta to voice her agreement.
But instead of saying anything, the husky Marta Braun reached out with tentative shaking fingers. She pressed her palms over the high round outlines of Violet's breasts, whimpering softly. "Anything. I'll do anything," she said, moving closer.
Violet didn't say a word. She stood in the middle of the room, looking down at the other woman. With the same tentativeness which seemed to mark her relationship with Violet Heath, Marta began to slowly rub her hands over the woman's breasts.
She took her time, concentrating on exciting Violet. It was a kind of ritual and after several years of practice, she knew exactly what was expected of her. Violet was totally passive, standing there, Almost as if she were refusing to acknowledge Marta's presence.
Marta slowly untied the ribbons across the front of Violet's peignoir. Her fingers still shook and she spread the lacy silk apart, exposing the deep cleavage of Violet's breasts. She touched them lightly, delicately, not saying a word. Carefully, she lowered the nightgown off Violet's shoulders, letting it drop to her waist.
Violet's breasts rose up, large and mature, much firmer than Marta's. The nipples were already beginning to swell, darkening the mauve-colored aureoles which surrounded them. Marta kept rubbing, using her thumbs and forefingers to roll Violet's nipples back and forth. She breathed deeply, watching them grow hard and pointy. Her fingertips kept grazing against the woman's boobs until Marta felt herself breaking out in a sweat, her skin growing hot and itchy.
The thrill of sexual contact spread throughout her body, centering at her loins. Slowly, she pulled the rest of Violet's negligee down off of her hips, letting it fall to the floor. Violet didn't even bother to kick it off. She stood there, stony, a statue that seemed barely alive.
"I must touch you," Marta whispered. She knew Violet and sensed the woman's own pleasure in this slow and torturous seduction. She wanted to excite her as much as possible and she crouched down. Rubbing her palms up and down Violet's sides, she stared at the thick curling bush of pubic hair between Violet's thighs.
Her eyes bugged out at the sight and she cupped the two twin quivering cheeks of Violet's ass. An incredible excitement was coursing through her and Marta felt her pussy getting juicy, the long thin stalk of her clitoris growing firm and erect. It was like a miniature cock and it tingled between her cunt lips.
Squeezing her thighs together, she felt the increased throbbing of her twat. Moving almost in slow-motion, her fingers like feathers, she tickled Violet's ass and then ran her finger up and down the warm soft crevice between the cheeks of the woman's bottom.
"Get undressed, Marta," Violet suddenly said, moving towards the bed. "Show me how devoted you are, my dear. You may not have balls, but you're more than enough for any woman." She laughed once again, shrill and dissonant as she sank back on the bed, spreading her legs apart.
She didn't touch herself and Marta quickly undressed, dropping her clothes to the floor. Her sagging breasts seemed plumper and more elastic than usual and despite her middle age, she was still capable of feeling sexual delight.
Marta got on the bed, sitting on the backs of her legs, looking down at Violet Heath's lush swollen pubic mound. The outer lips were puffy, visible beneath the ringlets of damp pubic hair. They seemed to be engorged with blood and she felt her own pussy tingling and pulsating in response.
"Touch me," Violet whispered. "Use your mouth, your hands. Excite me, Marta." There was physical hunger there, a hunger that was a dull ache in Violet's loins. Her pussy was filling up with juice, pungent sap which welled up and trickled over her hairy mons. Violet kept her eyes averted, not saying a word but biting down on her lower lip with a look of avid concentration.
Marta Braun could barely stop her fingers from trembling. The silence seemed to be overwhelming and her excitement was proportionate as she stared with incredible lust at the sight of her employer's lush hairy snatch. "Beautiful, beautiful baby," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with delight and approval. She could see the damp droplets of cunt juice which shone on Violet's soft and curly thatch. Her mouth was watering and she knew she couldn't hold herself back much longer.
Marta didn't wait any longer. She had been given her cue and she knew exactly what was expected of her. Quickly, she bent forward, stretching out on the bed. Her mouth was drooling as she rubbed her lips back and forth across Violet's pussy. The hairs grew longitudinally, up and down, an irregular rectangular patch which still managed to reveal the two smooth thick lips of her mound.
It was to these succulent lobes of cunt flesh that Marta attached her lips, sucking on them hotly as she ran her hands up and down Violet's body. As for Trudy's aunt, Violet was silent, but she trembled slightly as Marta held her around the ass, feeling the rounded curve of her backside as she began to lick in earnest.
Marta pawed at the other woman's twat with her fingers, trying to open up the lips to see how her clit was responding. Violet spread her legs wider apart, bending them slightly. She groaned out as Marta opened up her box and her long thin clitoris popped into view.
Marta now had what she wanted, her front teeth clamped around it and she began to suck Violet's clitoris right up into her mouth, licking the hot pungent fluids which still trickled down the walls of the woman's snatch.
The lips pulled back, her clit and vulva exposed, Marta lapped the slimy hot folds of Violet's muff, nibbling delicately on the pearly knob of her clit as Violet's moans grew louder. She was no longer playing at being silent and passive. She was acting like the woman Marta knew she loved, demanding more and more.
And Marta gave her all. Her tongue swooped inside, flicking and lashing in and out of Violet's box as she kept pawing at her, her fingers going around to pull apart the white cheeks of Violet's Heath's ass, to rub up and down along the damp hot furrow where her asshole awaited her stimulating and lascivious touch.
Something was happening to Violet, something she had often experienced before. She felt wanton and lewd. She wanted to scream and rake her nails across Marta's heaving back, wanted to curse her and yet tell Marta how much she was exciting her. Violet's eyes never left the sight of Marta's cunt and she began to scream as Marta kept eating her cunt, slurping madly and excitedly in and out of her crimson pussy.
"More," Violet begged. "Do it. Suck on it. Suck on my clit, bitch! Take it in your mouth and make me come. Oh shit, yes, yes! Fuck me, Marta! Let me feel your cunt. Rub it against me. I need your pussy, your red-hot juicy cunt!"
Greedy for more, pleased that Violet was responding so energetically, so lustily, Marta thrust one finger up into Violet's heated juicy twat, wiggling it around.
"Do it, you fucker!" she wailed. "Oh shit don't do this to me. Fuck me. Let me feel your pussy. Fuck me until I faint, until I come. Oh, Marta I want to feel you so badly. I need it. I'm on fire. You're burning me!"
She pulled away, reached behind and stuck a pillow under her ass, waving to Marta with her hands as she held her legs apart, begging to be mounted.
Violet's mouth opened, wide and sensuous. Marta kept gasping as Violet Heath stretched out her tongue, using it to beckon her on, flicking and hissing like the she-demon that she really was. Marta ran her fingers against her pussy. But she knew that she mustn't act hastily. She knew that she had to wait until Violet begged for more.
"What are you waiting for!" Violet demanded, pawing at her cunt, pulling the lips back so that she managed to display her clit. It wiggled enticingly, egging Marta on.
Her cunt looked so wide that it seemed to Marta Braun that she could thrust her entire hand inside. The very notion gave her chills of pleasure and she thought of all the dildoes she had performed with, all the phallic contraptions she had strapped over her pussy, acting as Violet's masculine lover, cock and all.
But now there didn't seem to be time for gimmicks.
She kept stroking her pussy, eying Violet hotly, not saying a word to her, feeling like a man and not yet making her move.
Violet was far too impatient to lay there and wait for Marta. She pushed herself up, her mouth coming down against Marta's vagina. She began to lick and suck on her pussy, but Marta still kept her cool. She felt the warmth and wetness of her lover's mouth. She felt the way Violet's lips sucked tightly on her thick stubby clitoris, rubbing against the highly stretched skin. Marta groaned delightedly, knowing that she wanted something more from Violet, something extra.
Quickly, she leaned back on the bed, pulling her legs up over her head. She held them there, revealing the coarse and dark-haired crevice of her ass. "You see that, Violet my beauty?" she asked, feeling more masculine and dominant than ever before. "You see that nice brown asshole of mine? Well, my beauty, my pet, I want you to get down there with that hot little tongue of yours and suck on it. You hear me, Violet? I want you to eat my ass out. And if you do a good job, I'm going to rub my pussy against your cunt until you won't be able to stop screaming from the pleasure."
"I won't, bitch!" Violet said defiantly. Secretly, she knew the script, the rules of the game. The scenario had been worked out long before and there were few surprises. She knew that she had to do what was expected of her, just as Marta had to act the way she did.
Marta's plump white ass cheeks trembled as she held herself in position. She waited for Violet to get down on her hands and knees and rim her out.
"I said do it!" Marta yelled once again, her gruff Germanic voice booming loudly in the still room. She reached out with one hand and rubbed her fingers against Violet's pussy. Slowly, trembling violently, Violet Heath sank down on her hands and knees.
She bent into a position of submission, holding her breath. But she knew she had to do this and slowly she stretched out her tongue. She dabbed at the short dark hairs ringing Marta's chink. Marta felt the delicate pointy tip of her lover's tongue and she pushed forward, ramming her ass in Violet's face.
Violet groaned loudly and suddenly was on her, gripping Marta's buttocks with both hands as she began to tongue and lap her bottomhole in earnest. "More," Marta called out. "Work it right inside. If you're good I'll give you slimy cunt, just for you, Violet my beauty, my love, my little pet."
The words thrilled both of them. Violet enjoyed being treated like a slave, a sexual object and she worked even harder, really getting into things and into Marta Braun's ass in particular. Her tongue licked circles up and around the puckers and folds of her unusually hairy anus, sponging it down with saliva as Marta kept trembling, feeling Violet's hot mouth breathing down on her ass.
When Marta pushed forward again, humping into Violet's mouth, the tip of Violet's tongue made contact and slipped easily inside, running up and down her dry tight anal walls. Her touch drove Marta crazy and she flung her hands out and pushed Violet's face down, shoving her ass into the other woman's mouth.
Finally, Marta began to pull Violet around. She straddled her, her legs on either side of Violet's face as she kept working on her ass. Leaning forward, Marta once again began to work on Violet's pussy, the two of them sixty-nining.
Keeping her tongue in place, Marta rubbed one finger in and out of Violet's snatch, moistening it with juice. When it was coated with a glistening lubricated film, she moved it out and pulled apart the woman's buttocks. Violet's pink puckered hole, feminine whereas hers was far more hairy and masculine, excited Marta wildly. Maddened and no longer in control of herself, she shoved her finger right up into Violet's ass.
Violet screamed out, but it seemed too late.
Marta's finger rotated around as she kept slurping on Violet's twat, licking and sucking on that long erect finger that was her clit. Violet felt wonderful tingling sensations in her bottom as Marta kept pistoning her finger in and out, thinking of what it would be like to shove a dildo right up Violet's ass, something she had never attempted before.
"Harder!" she told Violet, feeling the woman's tongue rasping in and out, moving faster and faster until the two of them were pumping back and forth, rolling about on the bed. Marta's pussy was rubbing between Violet's tits and the friction made her shiver excitedly. She wanted to come, but she knew enough to hold back, realizing that Violet would not at all be pleased with such a premature orgasm.
No longer willing or even able to hold herself back, Marta suddenly pulled Violet away. She threw Violet down on her back, ripping her legs apart. Then she fell heavily on top of her, her cunt lips squishing apart, opening Violet's pussy at the same time.
"Yes, do it, pump!" Violet called out, enjoying being victimized. Marta shoved back and forth and a wail of passion escaped from between Violet's lips. She felt her clit scraping against Marta's thick thumblike projection, the two sets of lips squishing open and shut, rubbing back and forth as the friction and heat kept building up, mounting between them.
"Yes, yes I feel it," Violet moaned, her cunt juicer than ever. Marta bent her head down and sucked on her boobs, licking them heatedly as Violet kept pushing upwards, rubbing her pussy back and forth until she felt her climax readying itself.
"Come with me," Marta urged, her body rippling as if moving through water. The hairy surface of Violet's pussy rubbed against the inner walls of her own cunt, making her shiver with spasms of incredible fuck-hunger. She wanted to use the dildos, but she kept silent, knowing it was too late to alter the scheme of things.
And when Violet began to come, she seemed to change as well. Slowly, even as her orgasm took hold of her, rocking her back and forth on the bed, she turned more dominant, sinister, knowing that the little game was over.
"Do it, come, bitch!" Violet screamed, her cunt trickling great drops of hot slimy juice, matting the hairs of both their pubic mounds. "Feel it, yes. Yes. It's good, isn't it, Marta? You love me, don't you. You fucking dyke bitch, come, come with me!"
Marta kept wailing until her throat felt dry and parched. Her clit was burning and she finally let go, coming like a skyrocket, biting down on one of Violet's nipples as the room seemed to spin around her and she knew how much she was controlled by Violet Heath. But it no longer mattered, no longer seemed important. She was feeling pleasure and she kept pumping down against Violet's as if she had a cock, something she would always miss not possessing.
* * *
The morning after the orgy, Nick Prescott woke up with a hang-over that threatened to shatter his sanity. His opened his eyes, rubbed them with the backs of his hands and tried to see where he was. The blinds were drawn, but he made out the outlines of Stacy Roberts' loft.
He was lying on a mattress and through the dim gloom he saw several other bodies, as naked as he was, stretched out on the floor, snoring loudly. Turning his head to the side, he saw Trudy, her thumb in her mouth like a sleeping child. Trying not to wake her, he slowly got to his feet.
Nick staggered forward, nearly losing his balance. A shower, he said to himself, knowing that he needed something to clear his head. He found the bathroom and shut the door behind him, getting into the stall. Luckily, the water was hot and he leaned against one wall, letting it course down long and hard against his body.
When he heard the bathroom door being opened, Nick refused to move. His head felt swollen, bloated and he soaped himself up, wondering who had come into the bathroom. "Good morning," he heard someone say and he barely remembered the voice.
Then the shower curtain was pulled back and he found himself staring at Stacy Roberts. She stood before him, one hand on her hip, a smile on her face. And just as naked as he was. "How're you doing this morning? Quite a workout we had last night, wouldn't you say?"
"To put it mildly," Prescott replied. He could not help but stare at her, just as turned on to her long lean body as he had been the night before. "My brain feels as if it's been scrambled up and then put back together again. Only the pieces don't fit." He was not embarrassed at his nudity. Quite to the contrary, for even as he stood there, his cock showed signs of coming to life. Stacy noticed this as well and she kept smiling, stepping into the tub and pulling the curtain behind her. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.
Prescott only grunted, staring at the inviting hairy mound, sparser than Trudy's but no less enticing, between Stacy's legs. But he felt lazy, still drugged. He didn't move as she stood in front of him, rubbing soap over her body. The longer he stared, the more convinced he became that he would have her when he was ready.
Stacy rubbed her hands over her boobs, cradling them in her palms. She played with her nipples, staring at Nick's cock. It was already rising up, growing longer and stiffer as he too kept looking at her, watching her play with herself.
"I like you," she told him, reaching out to run her fingers up and down the length of his tool. "I usually don't like men, but you're an exception, Prescott."
He laughed then, curling his lips back, thinking, let her do all the work. She probably likes that kind of thing, anyway. "So you don't like men, is that it? That's cool. Whatever you say, lady."
She looked at him curiously, gripping his cock and curling her fingers around it. She began to tug up and down, watching it swell as the water kept spraying down on them. "You're different," she said again. "You're not pushy, like most men I know."
Nick knew what she was after. He realized that Stacy was the kind of woman who liked to call the shots and control each and every sexual episode in her life. That was fine with him and his hands hung limp by his sides as she suddenly bent down in a crouch. Without so much as a word, she opened her mouth and pushed her head forward. Nick moaned hotly as he felt the edges of Stacy's front teeth scraping down against his cock-shaft.
He humped forward, stuffing his meat into her mouth, leaning against one wall and looking down at her. She was literally gobbling up his cock, smacking her lips, bobbing her head back and forth and taking in every last thick inch of his virile pecker.
"Thata girl," he told her. "Take your time, sugar. I like blow-jobs. They relax me." His cock was now fully erect, banging against the back of her throat as she gurgled hotly, licking and sucking on his dick as she reached up and began to fondle his nuts. She cupped them in one hand, tickling the root of his scrotal sac.
But Nick didn't want to shoot in her mouth. He hadn't tasted her pussy yet and he held himself back, knowing that she would stop in just another few minutes. "Keep it up, baby. Suck it in. Taste it. It's all ready for you, nice and juicy," he said, the words slipping easily off his tongue as he pushed her head against his hairy groin and trembled with his rising excitement.
Finally, Stacy pulled her mouth away. She stood up and Nick reached out for her. But she was slippery and too fast for him. Laughing uproariously she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub. Prescott, however, was not about to let her go so easily.
Stacy's pussy was too inviting, the hairs soaking wet so that he could see the outline of her vulva. The very tip of her clitoris projected forward, a small red-tipped knob he longed to fasten his lips around.
"Not so fast," he told her, getting out of the bathtub as she stood by the sink. He grabbed her around the shoulders and pushed her against the wash basin, forcing her legs apart with his burly and powerful thighs.
"What is this, Mr. Prescott?" she asked. "Rape?"
"It's whatever you want to call it," he told her. He couldn't hold back. His pecker seemed to lead him forward, thick and rigid as he tried to pierce her. He shoved down, angling his cock towards the slightly dilated set of cunt lips he saw before him.
Stacy tried to squirm away, still giggling, enjoying teasing him. But the more she wiggled back and forth, the more unnerved Nick Prescott became. With a powerful lunge forward he slammed the head of his penis right up against her hole. She screamed out, but it was too late. He had succeeded in lodging his blood-engorged glans right into place and he bore down on her, pushing her back as he kept slamming forward.
Nick kept moving, feeling the yielding slickness of Stacy's cunt frictioning against his cock-skin. More than half of his red-hot cunt-rammer was buried inside her, four thick inches feeling her juices and tight embracing cunt folds, four more waiting to feel the tightness and warmth of her twat.
"Feel it going in, sugar," he whispered to her, pressing her back against the sink as his ass pumped back and forth and slowly but surely he managed to stuff the entire length of his virile dong right inside her snatch.
Stacy began to tremble. The water dripped off their bodies, forming a pool on the black and white tile floor as she seemed to give up. She held Nick around the waist, shoving forward, meeting his masterful banging lunges with a fierce desire all her own.
The lips of her twat were not fully opened, stretched apart by the thickness of Nick's cock. She felt her clit being frictioned by his shaft and she clung to him, wiggling to and fro, urging him on as she concentrated on the pleasure.
"Yes, do it. Harder, Mr. Prescott. Oh fuck yes, fill me, baby. Slam it in, faster, faster!" she called out, gasping for breath.
Nick didn't stop until he was fully enhorsed. His nuts hung outside, flopping wetly against her thighs as he slowly pulled half of his cock out and slammed it in again. He began to pump back and forth, shoving in and out with great searing lunges as Stacy kept begging him on, urging him to ram it into her very depths.
"Feel it," Prescott said again. "It's cock, lady. Red-hot thick juicy meat. How can you say that you don't like men? You're loving every minute of this, kiddo. I'm moving right inside your pussy. Isn't it good? Don't you like having your cherry taken by a man, a big fucking hairy man!"
He kept laughing at her expense, reaching down with one hand to push his fingers against the wet deep cleft of her ass.
She's fucking juicy, all right, he realized as soon as he came in contact with the matted hairs lining her anal chink.
Stacy kept pushing upwards, the position hard to maintain standing up, using the sink for support. She began to whimper, neighing faintly as Nick kept at it. But when she felt his fingers sliding around and pressing against her asshole, pushing forward against the tight puckers and swirls of her anus, she began to relax. She pushed up a little and Nick slammed his middle finger deep inside her butt, wiggling it around as he kept plowing into her pussy.
His cock felt the warmth of her vagina and he kept working it in and out, loving the way Stacy's lush round ass cheeks wiggled in response to his probing pistoning finger. He pounded down into her, his hairy groin rubbing against her smooth flat boyish belly as he sucked on her neck, frigging her ass with one finger and taking his fill.
"Don't stop now," she finally whispered. "It's good, baby. I don't like cock that much but this is good, real good. But you're so big, You'll have to fuck my ass, too. Won't you? Oh say yes. Say it, Prescott!"
"Sure baby, sure," he muttered, feeling his come rising. It was like sap in a tree and he was ready to shoot. But he wanted Stacy to come at the same time. His finger slammed up into her tight dry ass and when she finally screamed out with joy, he let loose all of his hot pent-up semen.
A banshee cry of lust rose from his chest as he began to tremble, pouring a steaming load of come into her hole. Stacy began to scream at the same time, feeling the thick viscid liquid soaring into her twat, bathing the walls of her vagina with a soothing balm.
"More, give me more!" she kept screaming, flinging herself from side to side as Nick continued to shoot, his cock ejaculating rapidly until he had drained himself dry, every last bit of come poured into her snatch.
Finally, he stopped moving, leaning heavily against her.
But Stacy wasn't finished. She was still shivering, her orgasm making her toss about, spastic, uncontrollable as she heaved to and fro and felt Nick's cock going half-erect inside her pussy. She had never felt anything nearly as good with a man before and she didn't stop until her sap dripped down the walls of her snatch, coating his cock and matting her pubic hairs. Her belly was covered with the thin slimy liquid of her momentous pleasure.
"It felt so good," she told him when he finally pulled his limp soggy cock out of her hole. White flecks of come adhered to her cunt lips and he gave her ass a final pistoning jab before removing his finger.
"I knew you'd love it," he replied. But his mind was already on other things. "There'll be other times, I'm sure. But how about some coffee. My head's still out of whack."
Looking momentarily disappointed, Stacy reached for a towel and dried herself off. She fondled Nick's limp dick for an instant, shrugged her shoulders and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
"What now?" Nick Prescott said aloud. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now?"
CHAPTER VI
Nick came out of the bathroom, winked at Stacy and went in search of his clothes. Half of the guests had left, others were getting up, stumbling towards the kitchen where the smell of coffee drifted overhead, luring them on. He pulled on his pants and sat down at the edge of the mattress, rubbing his hands across Trudy's back.
She stirred in her sleep and finally opened her eyes. "Good morning," she yawned, lifting her hands up and turning over so that he could see her again. Her body excited him even more than he had remembered and he kept his eyes on her, wondering what she was thinking, wondering what they should do next.
"How are you this morning?" he asked softly, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.
"Drugged," she replied. "But I'm glad you're here, Nick. It's all going to start again, isn't it?"
"What?"
"You know, this whole chase business. Running away from Violet," she told him, looking forlorn as a frown passed across her lips.
"Don't worry about it now," he told her. "Everything's going to work out. And that's a promise."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Prescott. My life's in your hands, for better or worse."
"For better," Nick said.
Trudy laughed then, the spell of unhappiness at least temporarily broken. She reached out and ran her fingers up and down his thigh as he sat next to her on the mattress, looking into her eyes. "You love me?" she asked.
Nick nodded his head, unable to stop staring. It seemed to him that he would never get tired of her. Whoever she was, Trudy Heath was someone who worked for him. She had something that made a loud yet erratic click in his mind, as if he was narcotized, hooked on her for what seemed like forever.
"Good," she said. "Because you know what, Mr. Prescott? I love you too," and saying this her fingers inched up along his thigh.
Nick leaned back on the mattress. He looked down and gazed at her slim ivory hand as it kept moving, exploring, fondling his crotch. Despite his workout with Stacy Roberts, Trudy's touch had the desired and almost inevitable effect. For he could feel as well as see his cock swelling up inside his trousers. He felt himself getting aroused, hornier than he had thought himself capable of. Trudy kept goading him on, almost teasing him the way her friend Stacy had done. She never quite touched his cock, but she was always near it, getting closer and closer to the thick jutting outline of his penis.
Nick realized what she wanted, what in fact she desperately needed. He felt compelled to satisfy her, to comfort her much as a father comforts his little girl. He saw the similarity, but it didn't disturb him. If Tracy wanted a father, he was more than willing to provide the necessary surrogate.
Accordingly, unable to hold himself back, let alone control his physical appetites, Nick reached out and touched her, his fingertips tracing intricate secret patterns across her breasts. They seemed swollen, as if with milk and he longed to suck on them. He buried his face down against her jugs with a strangled cry of passion and love.
Her two round boobs were covered by his hands as he started to suck on her tits, licking her nipples with his long thick and agile tongue. "It tickles," she whispered, pushing him down, stretching out on the mattress as he kept lapping at her breasts. They slid between his fingers, the nipples already hard and firm.
At the same time, Trudy sought out his flesh as if it were food. She sucked on his chest, climbed upwards and found Nick's ear, blowing into it as she squirmed beneath him. He kept tonguing her boobs, driving crazy with erotic delight.
"Yes, yes," he whispered, tasting her soft downy skin. "We need each other, baby. Fuck Violet, just think about now. Now."
Trudy tried to believe. She could hear Stacy making breakfast in the kitchen. The coffee percolator bubbled invitingly and she glanced up to see people moving past her, not at all put off by her open display of sexuality. But she hadn't worried about that. After what had happened the day before, she knew that no one was about to be shocked by any public display of sex and physicality.
For both of them, it was a lovely way to start the day and from her tits, Nick wrenched apart Trudy's legs. He dived down, stretching out in front of her, his tongue seeking out the very pit of pleasure. He scraped his lips and the edges of his teeth across her golden haired pussy, the hairs clinging together, thick curling ringlets damp with her own insistent desire.
"More, oh god more, do it, Nick. I need this. I need to be loved, love," she whispered egging him on.
Her cunt was already swollen, the blood trapped. It was ringed by two prominent cunt lips that looked for all the world like parentheses, drawing his eye down inside. She tasted sweet and he started eating her out, lapping away and prying apart the half-open outer labia, searching for her clitoris.
Perhaps, he reasoned, that was his major attraction. For when he saw the large and overdeveloped clitoris that lay hidden inside Trudy's hairy muff, he began to tremble, feeling his juices readying themselves. He sucked the thumblike appendage up into his throat, chewing on it nimbly as she pushed her hips forward, slamming her cunt in his face.
His tongue was working like a piston as Trudy shifted position, spreading her legs wide apart as possible. Nick got his mouth into place, glued it against her cunt and kept sucking. And when she raised her legs up the very sight of her pink naked ass began to drive him insane with desire.
"Yes, suck on it, taste it, Nick. It's all yours, every last bit of it," she told him, her fingers searching out his cock. She found the zipper on his trousers and wrenched it down with an energetic and impatient tug. Then she stuffed her itching fingers inside, longing to feel his massive swelling cock.
Nick stiffened as soon as Trudy's fingers came in contact with his pecker. He had forgotten to put on his undershorts and she had no difficulty pulling his hose out of confinement. Not content just to handle his goods, she swung around even as he kept working on her snatch.
"Let me taste it," she said, breathing heavily as she got into position and opened her mouth. He glanced back, just in time to see and feel her bearing down on his dick.
Trudy sucked and licked his thick rigid pole of manflesh, smacking her lips. It seemed to burst and swell inside her mouth, rubbing against her cheeks and palate as she swirled her tongue around the blossoming cock-head. The skin felt soft and velvety, slightly salty as well.
Trudy couldn't contain herself. She kept sucking, forcing more and more of Nick Prescott's meat down into her throat. She was not happy until it banged against the back of her throat, forcing her to stop and catch her breath.
Knowing what he had to do next, Nick pulled away and got to his feet. He ripped off his pants, unable to control himself. Trudy knew just how to excite him and he felt maddened with lust, barely conscious of anything other than her lush imploring body, her high succulent tits, her soft hairy twat.
"Do it," she said in a half-heard whisper. "Fill me. Give me love. Oh shit yes, I need love, Nick. Love!"
She lay back on the mattress, the sheets rumpled beneath her. Slowly, even as he pulled the pants off of his legs, she moved one hand down to her cunt. She began to finger herself, bending her legs and exposing her prominent stiff clitoris. It was to this piece of highly erotic, erectile as well, cunt flesh that she worked her fingers about, tweaking and stroking it as he looked down at her.
"Do it," she said again, exposing more and more of her pussy as the lips opened up on their own accord, dilating violently, rapidly. Her hole looked large, dark and exciting and he flung the pants to the floor and moved on top of her.
Trudy was so impatient that she took hold of his cock and literally stuffed it down into place. He looked down and groaned loudly as the head of his thick weapon pushed into her vulva, pressing down against her clit. The widely dilated lips of her snatch opened even more in order to accommodate his thick tool and Nick held himself in place.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she kept whispering, her eyes glazed over like the eyes on a doll. "Fill me, Nick. Shove it in, pack your meat in; I want it, I need it."
He didn't doubt her for an instant.
With one formidable shove forward, Nick Prescott eased the head of his huge cock right inside. He penetrated into her, slipping more and more of his dong into place as Trudy lifted her legs higher, urging him on.
She met his strokes with forward thrusts of her own, not happy or fulfilled until he had succeeded in lodging every last thick inch of his penis into position. The smooth moist folds of her vagina were stretched open and apart as he kept stowing his cock into her hole, hearing his nuts whacking against her uplifted ass.
"More," she moaned. "More, you're an animal and I love it. Do it, fuck me, baby. Hard, hard and mean like a good daddy should."
Her cunt was warm and tight and Trudy clung to him with wild delight as Nick finally managed to pound the last thick inches of his dick into place. Then he started to hump into her, clinging to her with his own kind of frenzied desperation.
His desire was like a hunger and it kept building up the more he plowed into her, his strokes quick and penetrating, banging against the very entrance to her womb. He heard footsteps behind him and he turned his head around. One of Tracy's friends, a tall bearded fellow with a rather thin and emaciated body, as if he was a speed-freak, was looking intently at them.
Nick tried not to notice, rather annoyed that he and Trudy seemed to be the center of attention. The fellow found himself a chair and sat down, putting his mug of steaming coffee onto the floor. "Go to it," he grinned and Nick turned away, concentrating on satisfying both his as well as Trudy's physical needs.
The kid who sat in the chair was as naked as they were and he kept nodding his head with approval, his long thinnish dick rising up between his thighs. He took hold of it with one hand and began to stroke, matching Nick's rhythm as his fingers curled tightly around his dick.
Nick kept slamming into Trudy with all of his weight, pressing her down against the mattress as he rubbed his chest across her body, stimulating her boobs as well as her pussy. He felt the very hairy root of his dong grinding down against her muff and her stiff thick clit scraped against his cock-shaft, wildly stimulated.
His heavy pendulous nuts were hitting between the cheeks of her ass, dangling down, rotund and filled with fresh unreleased come. He was getting ready to shoot, to spurt right into her hole and Trudy felt her own climax nearing, approaching rapidly as Nick kept stroking into her, a heated barrage of deep and searing cock thrusts.
She too saw the kid who sat nearby. But she felt lewd and exhibitionistic and she almost wanted to prolong her pleasure, putting on a show for him. She saw how he kept working on his dick. And then he suddenly convulsed, stiffening in his seat. A trickle of saliva sluiced out of the corner of his half-open mouth. Then, his cock jerked violently and even as she felt Nick pounding into her, her eyes never left the sight of the kid's penis.
Suddenly, it began to spurt. She had rarely seen men coming, their cocks usually hidden inside asses or cunts or mouths. Now, she found herself hypnotized, utterly and absolutely fascinated. Nick's constant barrage of penetrating strokes only doubled her pleasure. As she watched, the kid in the chair moaned loudly. A thick white flood, a veritable deluge of semen, poured out of the nut-like head of his penis.
"Do it!" he yelled out, moaning and shaking as his come spurted out, cascading over his thighs and belly.
Trudy turned back to Nick. She felt herself getting ready and she concentrated on the moment of pleasure, tossing and turning beneath him. She angled herself back and forth so that the head of his dick hit against one wall of her pussy and then another. "Come, come with me!" she suddenly screamed out, no longer able to hold herself back.
Then it happened.
Almost simultaneously, the two of them began to come. Nick stroked into her and as the head of his cock hit against her cervix, he felt his nuts tightening and cooling inside his sac. His come soared up and he kept shivering, feeling chills and hot flashes as his orgasm swept over him.
He was in ecstasy, sobbing along with her, the two of them thrashing about on the mattress. His juices boiled over and he began to pour his hot load into her cavity. Splattering wads of gism into her vagina as Trudy locked her legs around his heaving hairy ass.
"Yes, come, come and more come. Fill me, stuff it in. I'm coming!" she whimpered, her own abundant cunt juices flowing down the overheated walls of her straining pussy.
They clung to each other as Nick kept shooting, coming for all he was worth. And as his cock petered down, he slumped breathlessly against Trudy, sweat dripping down his flanks. The last hot drops of semen dripped out of the head of his tool and he slowly pulled it out of her mushy hole, it was glistening with their discharge and he fell against her, gasping for breath.
"Don't you ever get tired, Mr. Prescott?" he heard Stacy Roberts say. A cup of coffee seemed to emerge out of nowhere and Nick accepted it with a grateful nod of his head.
By the time he and Trudy had showered and gotten dressed, all of Stacy's guests had finally left. "If you're leaving, just close the door behind you," she told them, putting on her coat. "I have some business to attend to uptown, so I can't stay."
"Thanks for everything," Trudy said, giving her a hug. "You've been a love."
"Anytime, beauty," Stacy laughed, kissing Trudy on the lips. Nick watched, thinking that Stacy's embrace was a bit too prolonged for simple courtesy. But he said nothing. Then Stacy turned and closed the door behind her and they were left alone in the studio.
"What next?" Trudy asked, her voice suddenly pitched on the edge of an hysteria Nick realized she could barely control.
Nick thought he had an answer. "As long as your aunt doesn't know where to find you, everything's cool," he explained. "Look at it this way, Trudy. She can't commit out and out murder. The cops would be on her tail as soon as they found out about your inheritance. No, Miss Violet's a far shrewder operator .than that. I have an idea that I might be able to work out a little deal with her."
"What kind of deal?" Trudy asked.
"There's such a thing as a double-cross, my dear. I might just be able to convince her that I'm as much after your money as she is. Then, we could lure her out of her nest and get her when she's vulnerable."
"I don't understand."
"Leave everything to me," Nick told her. "You just sit tight and don't leave the studio. I'll call in a couple of hours or come back. One way or the other you'll know what's happening. Or what's happened, whatever the case may be. But don't leave, hear me?"
Trudy nodded her head. She looked about the studio, at the expanse of unpolished bare floors and towering ceilings. Suddenly she felt very cold, very cold and alone. She began to shiver and Nick held her in his arms, heating her flesh with the warmth of his body.
"Just believe in me, baby," he told her, kissing her on the cheek. "Everything's going to work out fine, you hear me?"
Trudy nodded her head. But when Nick left, her fears returned, worse than before. She sat in the narrow little kitchen, drinking her third cup of coffee. Outside, she heard the wind whistling down the deserted streets. It seemed to darken and she went into the studio, turning on lights.
She looked at Stacy's paintings, but found no delight in admiring her friend's art. There were no colors in the room and everything seemed black and white, devoid of life. She moved over to the mattress and curled into a fetal ball, closing her eyes, hoping Nick would come back.
"I'm so tired of being alone, alone and afraid," she said aloud. She felt exhausted, drained of energy and resolve. Slowly, she drifted off into sleep, hugging the pillows against her, wishing Nick were there.
CHAPTER VII
Nick Prescott took a cab uptown, instructing the driver to let him off in front of the Hotel LeGrande. When he got out he found his way into the hotel and sauntered up to the front desk.
"I'm looking for Buddy Moran, the house detective," he told the clerk. Buddy was a close friend of his and now he hoped Moran would offer his assistance.
"He's on vacation," the clerk said.
"In that case, can you call Miss Violet Heath and tell her there's a Mr. Prescott downstairs who wants to talk to her." He was sorry Buddy wasn't around. Things'll be a little more risky, that's all, he said to himself. He didn't think Violet would try anything in the hotel which might serve to attract people's suspicions.
The clerk dialed the appropriate extension. When he got off the phone he motioned to the elevator. "Room 1219, mister. She said it was okay for you to pay a little visit."
"I'm sure," Nick mumbled. When he got out of the elevator he walked down the hall, finding Room 1219. Before he could even knock it swung open and he found himself staring at the tall black-haired woman he had seen weeks before. She had the same strawberry mole on her forehead and bore a distinct resemblance to Trudy.
"Come in, Mr. Prescott. I've been expecting you," she said, ushering him inside.
He swept past her, entering her suite of rooms. Violet Heath motioned him to a chair and offered him a drink. Nick accepted and when she handed him a whiskey he sipped it quickly, wondering what he was up against.
"I gather that you've come to see me on account of my niece dear sweet Trudy," she said, sitting across from him. She crossed her legs, not bothering to lower her dressing gown.
Nick stared at her, realizing that she was a far more formidable opponent than he had counted on. The woman had a cold haughty air about her, but he could see a muscle twitching on her cheek and he hoped it was a sign of nervousness and anxiety. As for the rest of her, Nick wouldn't have minded getting into Violet's pants, so to speak.
But he held himself back, trying to ignore her inquisitive glance of what he took for unabashed physicality. Her robe was parted at the top, her cleavage deep and alluring.
Business, he thought to himself, trying to find the proper words.
"Well, what is it, Mr. Prescott?" she asked, sensing his discomfort.
"I want to make a deal," he said quickly. He looked around the room. The bedroom door was closed and he hoped that they were alone.
"What kind of deal, may I ask?"
"Look, lady, I know what you want. Trudy's money. The little fool's told me all about, and I'd like nothing better than to get my hands on it. I figure, if I can deliver the goods, you can deliver the cash."
"I see," she murmured, fixing him with her beady piercing eyes. "And how do you propose to, how did you put it? 'Deliver the goods.'"
"Easy enough," he said, trying to sound convincing. "We can make it look like an accident, a car crash or something like that. The cops would never suspect, especially when they find notes in her hand writing, notes about her despondency over her father's death. It's foolproof."
"And you, Mr. Prescott, are a fool," she said, getting to her feet.
"What are you talking about! I came here in good faith, willing to share the money with you. Look, Miss Heath, without my help your plan's a washout. Do you think I'll let you knock off Trudy without spilling everything to the cops." Nick got to his feet as well, realizing that things were happening a little too quickly for his comfort.
"You're not going, are you, Mr. Prescott? Trudy must be getting anxious, by now, wouldn't you say. I think we'll have ourselves a little party, just the four of us."
"The what?" he said. But before he could make his move for the door, the bedroom door opened and he found himself staring at Marta Braun. The woman held a gun in her hand and behind her he saw a tall black man looming in the doorway, grinning at him with sarcastic delight.
"A party," Violet Heath said again. She laughed at Nick's helplessness.
I'm a fool, a perfect patsy, he thought to himself, disgusted that he had ever gotten himself involved. But now, it didn't seem to matter. Marta came out of the bedroom, holding the gun before her. And behind her, the black man followed. Nick didn't move.
"A nice intimate dirty little party," Violet said. She locked the door behind her and pushed Nick towards the bedroom. Meekly, he led the way inside.
The bedroom door swung shut behind him and Nick turned helplessly around. "What good is this?" he asked.
"What good is what, Mr. Prescott. You haven't the slightest idea, not the vaguest inkling of what you're in for. For a smart man, you're pretty stupid," Violet told him. "I have certain definite tastes, Mr. Prescott. Certain kinds of amusement. Marta and Flanders here see to all my needs and now you will, too."
"What needs?" he whispered as Flanders advanced on him. The Negro looked like an ex-wrestler. He was tall and powerfully built and Nick realized that he was no match for the man whose ebony skin seemed to gleam with - a hellish nocturnal light.
"Other people, people like you perhaps, would call them sick, sadistic. I prefer to think of them as unusual, Mr. Prescott." and saying this she rummaged in a dresser drawer.
Nick watched her. And when she pulled out what she had been looking for, he opened his mouth wide with astonishment. For Violet Heath leered at him, her grin twisted and sadistic. She held a thick rubber object in her hand and when she moved closer, Nick couldn't believe his eyes.
It was no ordinary instrument of pleasure. Violet wielded a massive flesh-colored dildo, shaped exactly like an erect penis. Only it was no ordinary penis, either. The tool she held in her hand was a good twelve inches long, as thick around as Nick's wrist.
"I had it made especially, Mr. Prescott," the woman laughed, motioning to Flanders.
Nick spun around, but the black man gripped him, forcing his hands behind his back. Marta came up with a length of cord and within a matter of seconds they had managed to tie Nick's hands behind his back. Then they pinioned his ankles together, removing his shoes. Finally, he was carried to the bed. Flanders pushed him down and turned to Violet, awaiting his instructions.
Nick started to scream out, but Flanders slapped him brutally across the face. "Do you want to be gagged, man?" he asked. "Or would you rather shut your face."
Nick realized that he was outnumbered. He lay on the bed as Violet rubbed her hands over the dildo. "Let me," Marta Braun said, coming up to her mistress. Violet nodded her head and as Nick watched, wondering what was going to happen to him, he saw Marta quickly taking off her clothes.
He could barely believe his eyes. The heavy-set woman stripped down, her sagging breasts flopping across her chest. He remembered them from the hotel room, but the recollection did little to calm his nerves.
They're sick, perverted, he thought to himself as Marta tugged down her panties, revealing the thickly haired pussy which so delighted Violet Heath.
"Beautiful," Violet murmured, handing Marta the dildo.
Without waiting, the woman thrust the blunt end of the phallus right between her legs. She crouched down, licking her lips, stuffing the dildo between the outer folds of her matronly cunt. Violet watched with widened eyes, waiting until the operation was complete.
The dildo fit snugly and when Marta turned to Nick, he opened his mouth, unable to speak. For it looked as if Marta was a freak, an hermaphrodite with breasts and a cock. The tool rose straight out in the air and she got on the bed, eying him critically.
"What next?" Flanders asked Trudy's aunt.
"Get him ready," she said, going off into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and Flanders got up on the bed and began to take off Nick's clothes. When Prescott tried to resist, rolling about from side to side, Flanders punched him in the stomach. Moaning loudly, gasping for air, Nick lay back as his shirt was unbuttoned and his arms pulled down. Because his hands were tied together, Flanders left the shirt hanging around Nick's wrists.
He kept whistling to himself, not looking at Nick as he unbuttoned the man's pants. "We meet again, Mr. Prescott," Marta Braun told him. "I knew we would. I just couldn't wait." She climbed up on the bed and leaned over him, rubbing her heavy boobs across his face.
"This is going to be a lot of fun for me, Mr. Prescott," she went on, grabbing his face and forcing his lips apart. "Suck, you little fool. Lick them good and hard."
Nick was forced to submit. He opened his mouth so that Marta stopped wrenching his jaws apart. The woman pushed one heavy distended teat into his mouth and slowly he thrust out his tongue, trying to ignore Flanders.
The black had succeeded in undoing Nick's trousers and he pulled them down to his ankles, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Nick's jockey shorts. Marta turned to him and nodded her head. "I've seen it before, Flanders," she said.
Nick looked down the length of his body. He shivered with fear as Flanders wrenched his undershorts down, exposing his limp dangling cock.
"So so," the black murmured, getting off the bed.
Nick looked up into Marta's eyes. They looked vicious and menacing and he bent to the task, sucking on her thick rigid nipples as she quickly straddled him. She rubbed her fleshy ass against his dick and despite his fear and discomfort, Nick felt his cock throbbing from the woman's heated touch.
"You're gonna love all of us," Marta promised.
Nick wondered what she meant. He looked up and saw Flanders. The black man had taken off his shirt, exposing a thickly muscled chest the same color as his face. He seemed nonchalant and calm, rather blase about the whole thing as he unbuckled his belt and began to pull off his pants.
"What's going on here?" Nick said again, panic rising in his voice.
"A party, Mr. Prescott," said Violet Heath, emerging from the bathroom. Nick opened his eyes wider than before. Trudy's aunt was totally naked. "A farewell party, you might say." She ran her hands up and down her sides, arching her legs slightly as he looked at her thick dark-haired pubic bush. Her body was still tight; only her ass revealed her age in the way the skin was creased and slightly sagging.
In fact, she had a better body than Nick had imagined. But he tried not to think of pleasure. There was only the insistent promise of pain here as he glanced down and saw the thick projection emerging out of Marta's hairy pussy. The cock rubbed against his belly, hard and cold.
When he looked over Marta's shoulders, he literally gasped in amazement. For Flanders had finally removed the last of his clothes and the black man was not equipped as most men were. He wasn't making a move, standing there rigid and silent.
But what Nick saw literally freaked his head. Flanders' cock was arching up, throbbing violently. Even Violet was impressed and she stared as the black man kept his hands on his hips, his cock growing thick and hard' without the benefit of anyone's touch. It was, Nick realized, the biggest penis he had ever seen in his life.
He couldn't believe his eyes, but he had to accept the fact that Flanders had a cock that was only slightly smaller than the dildo Marta Braun sported between her thighs. The man seemed to have a solid foot of cock meat, a dark purplish-black color, crowned by a glans that was as big around as Nick's fist.
"And he uses it beautifully, Mr. Prescott," Violet murmured in his ear. "He's very versatile."
Nick didn't doubt her for the moment. Flanders laughed appreciatively as he moved up to Violet. He pressed her against his groin, rubbing his cock between the cheeks of his ass. "Nice," he whispered as Violet leaned against him.
And as Nick watched, the Negro rubbed his hands over Violet Heath's large swollen jugs, tweaking her nipples before sliding down to her pussy. Marta turned her head to watch, pulling her nipple out of Nick's mouth.
For the moment, the room was silent. Violet kept rubbing her body like a cat, sliding up and down the length of Flanders muscled torso. He ground into her, thrusting his fingers down to her cunt. Pulling the fleshy ragged-edged lobes apart, he slipped two fingers right inside, one from each hand.
Violet gave a strangled whimper of pleasure and Flanders sucked on her neck, totally ignoring Prescott and Marta who were on the bed. As for Nick, he could not keep his eyes off the pair. There was a kind of unabashed sensuality there he found wildly exciting, even more overpowering than his fear. Flanders looked like the very personification of masculinity and virile sexuality. His body seemed greased, well-honed and the more he touched his mistress, the more Violet Heath responded, a veritable she-demon of erotica.
"Show him," Marta whispered to the burly black man. "Show him what he's in for."
Nick didn't understand, but even as Flanders kept pistoning two fingers into Violet's pussy, he suddenly pushed her forward on the bed. She grabbed hold of Nick's ankles, her ass sticking out in the air as the Negro picked up a tube of lubricant off the dresser and squeezed a gob of the translucent jelly into the palm of his hand.
"Do it," she whispered. "And then we'll take care of Mr. Nick Prescott, in spades."
"Spades," he winked. "Beautiful, Violet. Perfect." And saying this, Flanders rubbed the ointment up and down the length of his stiff burgeoning cock.
It looked even bigger and thicker than before and Nick couldn't believe how Violet would be able to accommodate her henchman's massive weapon. Working slowly and taking his time, Flanders held onto Violet around the waist, not even bothering to spread apart the cheeks of her plump matronly ass.
"Fill me," she whispered. "Do it, ram it in, beauty, black beauty."
Gripping her tightly, he pushed forward and as Nick watched with widened and excited eyes, he saw Flanders' dick shoving forward. Violet felt the huge swollen organ banging against her swirling pink asshole and she breathed deeply, relaxing her anal muscles as Flanders maintained his position.
"Harder, fuck me like a man, prick!" she cursed him.
Flanders gnashed his teeth, took a deep breath and suddenly lashed out, plowing into Violet with all the force in his body. A shrill staccato scream erupted from between her lips as she clawed at Nick's feet. Flanders' cock was already moving inside, ripping open her asshole as he kept stuffing more and more of his inhuman foot of cock-meat into his mistress's butt.
Even Marta, whose taste ran towards women, was duly impressed. She stared with the same avidity which marked Nick's unblinking gaze, watching as Violet cursed and sweated, feeling the full impact of the man's dick. Faster and faster he pounded into her and Violet kept moaning as her ass was stuffed with more meat than she thought possible.
Flanders never stopped. He kept thrusting forward, leaning against his mistress and nearly flattening her out on the bed. Finally, he was in her up to his root, his nuts whacking loudly, a large wrinkled sac as big around as a grapefruit.
"Now move, baby. Ram it in, in and out," she whispered hoarsely.
Flanders was more than glad to oblige. He began to steadily ram his pecker in and out of Violet Heath's ass, feeling the skin along the shaft of his cock locking onto her rectal walls, frictioning him delightfully.
"So good," he murmured. "Oh yeah, he'll love it, Violet. It'll freak his head out."
Nick realized that they were speaking about him. He found it hard to believe that they intended to treat him in just this manner, but for the moment, he could not keep his eyes off the pair. Violet pushed backwards, meeting Flanders' mean penetrating strokes, wiggling her buns as he kept shoving his red-hot poker of a cock deeper and deeper into her hole.
Prescott heard Violet snorting loudly, moving back and forth so that he was sure her ass felt the barrage of strokes from every angle. Her eyes were half-closed and as Flanders continued to pump in and out with sure and almost angry thrusts, she squeezed her anal muscles around his enormous mule-cock, making her hole even smaller and more confining than before.
Flanders kept pumping into Violet's ass, relishing the tightness of the older woman's butt. Looking at both of them, Nick found himself with a massive hardon of his own, wildly excited as he watched the pair moving together. The sight of Flanders' hot blue-black cock searing Violet's backside, visible for a moment before it disappeared up inside her hole, made him tremble involuntarily.
Marta saw what was happening and she laughed, calling it to Violet's attention. "He needs it, Violet," she said aloud. "Look how he wants it," and she pointed to Prescott's own bulky erection, his meaty virile pecker rising up along his hairy belly.
"All in good time, my dear. Flanders has never gotten tired, not yet at least." And then she looked back over her shoulder. "Yes, now, oh shit I can feel it happening. Work it in, honey. Fill me, fuck me, I'm coming. Oh shit, coming, hot come, come, shoot!"
Flanders let out a mighty roar, bellowing like a bull. And as Nick watched with stony hardened eyes, the black man stiffened and violently convulsed. His body shook, every muscle trembling as he dug into her ass with his superhuman cock. Then, he let go.
"Man, yes, come, feel it baby oh shit, shooting, shooting!" he whimpered, unleashing his load of cream.
Violet stiffened as well, holding herself rigid as her own orgasm merged together with Flanders' forceful climax. She felt great wads of the man's virile seed pouring into her belabored hole, soothing the ravished tissues of her butt with a kind of slimy balm.
More and more come shot out as the whites of Flanders' eyes rolled up in his head. Nick thought the man was actually having a fit. He had never seen anyone get so violent during an orgasm and now, as he watched intently, barely aware of Marta and her foot-long dildo next to him, he saw how both Flanders and Violet were still coming.
When the woman leaned up, still filled with the black's massive cock, a shiny pool of thin liquid come stained the sheets. Droplets of the stuff shone on her matted pubic hairs and the tip of her coral-hued clitoris was visible, poking forward like a button from between the lips of her snatch.
Flanders leaned against her, refusing to pull out. He was dripping with sweat and he stood up, his cock slowly losing its erection inside his mistress's ass. "Take your time, honey," she told him, not wanting to rush. "There'll be time for everything. Everything," and she cast a baleful glance at Nick Prescott, laughing sadistically as she eyed her prey.
Finally, he pulled his cock out and looked fondly at Violet, kissing her on the neck. "And now, for more serious business," she said, straightening herself up.
Nick lay back on the bed, not knowing what to expect. He saw Marta glaring at him and when Flanders moved over, his cock like a sausage, limp but still a good six inches lolling between his thighs, he tried to roll out of the man's grasp.
But his arms and legs were securely fastened and he was helpless as the black laughed and turned him over on his stomach, exposing Nick's naked and hairy ass. Flanders pulled apart the cheeks of the detective's bottom. "Not bad," he said to Marta, who idly played with her nipples, the rubber cock sticking out obscenely from between the fleshy lobes of her twat.
"Just the way I like them," Violet said. "Dark and hairy. I bet he's gamey, too, the filthy shit." She came up to Nick and curled back her lips. "It's- all over for you, Mr. Prescott. You got in the way and I don't have time for small fry. They bore me." She turned and nodded to Marta.
Quickly, impatient to get started, the heavy-set woman got up on the bed, straddling Nick's thighs. He turned his head back, opening his mouth as if to scream. "What? No, don't!" he yelled out.
But before he could say anything else, he found himself being gagged with a stocking Flanders had found in one of the dresser drawers. His moans were muted, his pleas unheard as Marta pulled apart the globes of his ass and got into position.
"Ride him, baby," Flanders laughed. "And then it'll be my turn."
Marta felt Nick's asshole, covered by thick curling hairs as dark as the hairs on his chest, but much coarser and rougher in texture. She didn't even bother to use spit or the lubricant Flanders had applied to his joint. Rather, she decided that Nick Prescott would have to go through a dry run and when she told him this, he could only choke back a scream, unable to talk with the gag securely fastened around his mouth.
Then, she got down on her knees and pushed the massive round head of the hard rubber dildo right up to Nick's bottom-hole. Nick couldn't move and when he bucked back and forth on the bed, he found that he was only serving Marta's purpose. He grit this teeth and tried to relax, knowing that the pain would be something he would find almost impossible to bear.
He had never been sodomized before and the very notion filled him with terror. Then, with a single forceful lunge forward, Marta succeeded in lodging the head of the phallus right inside Nick's rectum. His bottom-hole was ripped open, the tissues almost screaming out his pain as he felt something hard and warm slamming into his flesh.
Tears streamed down his eyes and he began to moan as the inhuman weapon was forced up into his butt. As for Marta, she smiled cruelly, enjoying every minute of her treatment. To demean a man, and Nick Prescott in particular, gave her an exquisite kind of pleasure. And, in addition, the blunt end of the dildo rubbed into her pussy, making the act doubly exciting.
Violet and Flanders watched with considerable concentration. They smiled at Nick, staring between Marta's legs as she kept cork-screwing the dildo into Prescott's butt. Still pushing, taking her time and enjoying herself immensely, Marta was able to work the entire length of the foot-long penis into Nick's widely stretched hole.
She lay on top of him then, trying to catch her breath.
As for Nick, it felt as if someone was packing his shit in. His hole was stretched inordinately and the pain made his body tremble as he tried to control himself. His ass seemed to be rubbed raw and bleeding and he looked nervously over his shoulder, still moaning with pain.
"How does it feel, Mr. Prescott?" Violet asked. "Isn't it demoralizing? Getting fucked, and by a woman no less." She laughed triumphantly and nodded to Marta.
The woman began in earnest then, pounding in and out of Nick's hole. She didn't stop, breathing deeply, feeling her pussy frictioning against the dildo as she rubbed herself on top of Nick's back. He was barely conscious, aware of a dull insistent ache in his bottom, unable to do anything to stop the pain.
"Let me at him," Flanders said impatiently. He was tired of watching and he wanted to get into Prescott's ass while the going was still good. His cock displayed his willingness to continue, for it rose up and again, just as stiff and rigid as before. Violet stroked it with one hand, never removing her eyes from between Marta Braun's thick rippling thighs.
The woman heaved back and forth, smashing the hard rubber dildo in and out of Prescott's ass. Nick looked up, blinded by the pain. When he saw Flanders' hard-on, he knew he could take anything, for the black's penis was smaller than the instrument of pain which Marta had used with such skill.
"Let Flanders try," Violet said, gripping the man's thick dong. She clenched her hand around it, stroking it long and hard as Flanders moaned softly, shivering with delight. "And untie his legs. I want to try him out myself." l
Nick looked up at her and she licked her lips, her tongue darting out, hissing at him as Marta suddenly ripped out of his ass, pulling the phallus from out of its confines with a single and ravishing tug.
His moans were even louder and he fell back on the bed, trying to catch his breath. But no sooner had Marta removed her artificial cock when Flanders bounded into place. Instead of just slamming his boner into Nick's ass, he turned Prescott over on his stomach and untied his legs.
Nick didn't have time to kick or move away. His legs were lifted up as Flanders held him in a steely grip. Unable to move, overpowered by the black man, he waited in horror as Flanders shoved down, aiming the bulbous blood-engorged head of his penis right into place.
After the treatment Marta Braun had given him, Nick knew that anything else wouldn't hurt half as much. Resigned to his fate, he lay mute and unmoving as Flanders pushed forward, the head of his cock working its way right up inside Nick's ass.
But this time, the pain was far less severe. In fact, the warmth of the man's penis as it rubbed into his anal cavity made his prostate swell. By concentrating on the shivering pleasure of that sensation, Nick was able to bear the brunt of Flanders' attack.
The black kept pounding into him, ripping into his butt as he cursed faintly and softly, urging Nick on. "Feel it, honky," he whispered. "Feel it going in, nice and hot, nice and black."
Nick couldn't speak. He looked down between his legs and watched with a kind of morbid fascination as Flanders channeled more and more of his shining black cock into his belabored ass. But this time the pain was minimal. Nick relaxed totally and when he stopped straining, stopped fighting back, the pressure and the pain diminished accordingly.
As Flanders kept pummeling into Nick's asshole, Prescott heard Violet moving to Marta. They got up next to him on the bed and, at least for the moment, totally ignored him as Flanders began to really work into a deep and bone-jarring rhythm. The steady strokes rocked Nick back and forth.
When he turned his head, he saw Marta taking Violet's head in her hands. She moved her lips down, pressing them against her mistress's mouth. The two women clung to each other, kissing passionately. He could see how Marta kept using her tongue like a spoon, flicking it in and out and licking Violet's lips, her teeth, the inside of her mouth.
They curled tongues together and moaned ecstatically and Nick kept watching, fascinated by the display of lesbian love. He had not seen anything like it before as Marta reached out and grabbed hold of Violet's high swelling jugs.
She cupped them in both of her hands, murmuring softly to Trudy's aunt. And as she caressed them, Nick felt something happening to his body. He glanced down as Flanders leered at him, working his prick in and out with deep and penetrating strokes. But despite all that he had been through, Nick Prescott was still able to handle it.
For at that moment his own dick was arching up, harder than ever, a tiny peal of pre-come shining on the head of his cock, covering his piss-hole. His body felt hot and itchy and he longed to get into someone's hole, longed to feel the wet warmth he knew he needed to relieve some of the fear and concomitant pain.
But Violet saw to that. She turned and looked down at Nick's pecker, laughing softly. "You need something else, don't you, Mr. Prescott?" she asked, getting up on the bed. Then, swinging her legs around, she removed his gag, straddled Nick's face and slowly lowered her pussy down on top of his head.
It was, he realized, exactly what he needed.
He stuck out his tongue and as Violet came down on top of him, he began to lick her pussy. It was damp and inviting and his tongue snaked in and out with heated thrusts. He couldn't move his hands, but Violet saw to his every need, enjoying the attention he was giving her. She pulled back the lips of her matronly snatch, exposing her thin finger-like clit. It rose up out of the folds of her vulva, a shining button, a knob of erectile tissue which Nick stared at, longing to get his tongue around.
He slurped up the thin dribbles of milky sap which trickled down her box. The pungent dew flowed over his tongue and he swallowed it down, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking it right into his mouth.
Her hairy mound quivered in response and, surprisingly, Nick suddenly felt a pair of lips attaching themselves to the head of his dick. It was Violet who was giving him the benefit of her tongue, moved to respond to his own insistent and laborious mouthing strokes.
He kept licking and slobbering over her pussy, wondering what was going to happen next. Violet kept gobbling up his cock and his nuts began to ache as his pecker kept trembling, swaying in and out of the woman's heated mouth.
As for Marta, she was, at least for the moment, content to watch. Nick kept working on Violet's pussy, lapping up along the damp hot walls of her box. And, at the same time, he kept feeling the insistent throbbings of Flanders' joint as the Negro continued to batter into him, stuffing his hose in and out of Nick's ass, searing the walls of his rectum with his thick meaty rod.
But by this time there was no pain at all. The sensation was novel, perhaps even unique. Nick had always enjoyed being rimmed, had always relished a tongue or a finger stuck up his ass. And now, the logical extension seemed a cock. He took a deep breath and began to work his sphincter muscles around Flanders' penis, squeezing them tightly as if to milk the man's cock-shaft.
"He loves it, all right!" the black man said with a laugh. "Shit, he's going crazy, Violet. It's backfired."
She didn't bother to reply. She was too busy sucking on Nick's cock, no longer in control of herself. It seemed that for the moment she was forgetting her vendetta, just enjoying the strange coupling which she was part of.
And as she continued to work on Nick's cock, making him shiver with growing and unbearable delight, Nick seemed to urge Flanders on, almost as if he was begging him to give it his all, to fuck the shit out of him as intensely as he was working on Violet Heath's heaving pussy.
Flanders was more than glad to oblige.
"You want it, man," he said with a laugh, "then I'll give it to you, good and hard. Your ass is beautiful, fucking tight and hard and hairy. Just the way to a man's heart." Still laughing, he began to pump in and out as he held Nick around the waist. His strokes grew fiercer, angrier, and he never stopped as Nick moaned loudly, his mouth filled with pussy.
"Suck, baby, suck it down," Violet mumbled, fondling Nick's hairy scrotal sac as he pushed his dick up into her mouth.
"Now, Violet, oh shit, I can't hold back!" Flanders screamed out.
Quickly, Violet pulled her mouth away from Nick's pecker. She swung around her, her back to him and grabbed hold of his tool. Then, with a quick and certain thrust, she fell on top of it, riding him as she stuffed his cock right up into her moist hot pussy.
"Yes, do it, more!" Nick screamed, his sight blocked as Marta Braun climbed on top of her, shoving her ass in his face.
"Suck, Mr. Prescott, show me how much you love my buns," she smirked, rubbing her hairy asshole into his mouth. Nick was forced to comply. And as he rimmed Marta out and felt Violet's hot juicy pussy moving back and forth against his thick trembling cock, he heard Flanders screaming out.
"Now! Feel it, oh shit, coming. I'm coming, hold on, baby. Feel it!" the man ranted as his cream erupted like a volcano, searing the inside of Nick's bottom with his heaving spend. Great gushes of cream spurted out of the man's enormous penis, filling Nick's butt as Flanders screamed and thrashed about.
As for Violet, she too was unable to hold herself back. She pounded down against Nick, thrusting his cock in and out of her pussy with short quick thrusts that quickly brought her to her own orgasm.
She could barely speak. Foam flecked her lips and she closed her eyes as her orgasm hit her and she pushed down, rubbing her ass against Nick's groin and feeling her sap streaming down the walls of her vagina.
Nick's own orgasm was triggered by both Flanders' and Violet's frenzied reactions. As he felt the man's warm and mushy come filling his ass, his cock buried deep inside, he sucked in his breath, thrust his tongue up into Marta's smelly asshole and began to shoot.
Violet grabbed hold of his balls, squeezing them tightly as he jerked about on the bed, his come rushing out of the head of his dick, streaming into her pussy. Marta screamed with him, stuffing more and more of her ass into his mouth. But Nick was barely conscious of what was happening.
Everything seemed to be fading away, all the fears, the nightmares and anxieties. They rushed away as his pleasure overpowered him, leaving him weak on the bed, his cock ejaculating thick gobbets of come into Violet's clenching frictioning snatch.
"That's it, that's it," she moaned appreciatingly. "Come, Mr. Prescott. Do it, fill me, shoot, baby, shoot it all!" Still clenching his nuts, she made his orgasm an agony of delight and when his cock petered out, he felt her pulling away.
Flanders eased his limp tool out of Nick's asshole and as for Marta, she climbed off his face, looking down at him with a strange unfathomable expression on his face. "So you loved it, didn't you, prick?" she asked. "We'll see about that, though. You can bet your ass we'll see about that."
Nick lay there, stunned, unable to speak. His body was soaked with sweat. Come dripped out of his ass and dribbled onto the sheets. Before he could say anything else, Flanders quickly retied his legs, replacing the stocking so that Nick could no longer speak. It was tied around his mouth and the others looked down at him, relishing his discomfort.
"Just be patient, Mr. Nick Prescott," Violet told him. "We have a little unfinished business to attend to. But we'll be back, little man. You can be fucking sure of that."
Additional rope was brought out and Flanders tied him to the bedposts, making sure that Nick couldn't escape. Helpless, bound and gagged, he watched them leaving the bedroom, locking the door behind them.
He was suddenly and inexorably alone.
CHAPTER VIII
Trudy was having a nightmare.
In the dream, she was running down dark slick black city streets, turning her head around to catch sight of her pursuer. She was naked, blood and come dripping out of her ass and mouth and she felt incredible pain burning her body, dulling her senses as she kept running, turning corners, finding no one on the streets. There was no one there to help her.
She felt as if her entire life was coated with a layer of blood and gore and the sky looked bloodied as well, a deep rose-pink color, devoid of clouds. Then, she heard footsteps behind her and when she looked back she saw the twisted grinning face of her aunt, Violet Heath.
"Soon, my little darling, soon I'll catch you," the woman said, her face painted, grotesque, fixing her with a stare of malevolence. And when she looked again, Violet was holding something in her hands.
At first, Trudy couldn't see what it was, but as her aunt got nearer, she saw that the woman was brandishing two severed cocks in her hands, cocks that seemed like pistols, able to kill and inflict violent pain.
She wondered what had happened to Nick. She didn't know where he was and he felt that she couldn't keep running much longer. The streets seemed to stretch out before her, offering no place to hide. But then, off in the distance, someone waved to her and she ran faster, even as Violet got nearer and nearer.
But when she neared the figure, she saw it was Nick and he fell down on the gutter, as bruised and battered as she was, collapsing at her feet. "See?" Violet said, suddenly on top of her. Her face was distorted, crooked and evil. A grin of demonical proportions covered her mouth and she held the two severed cocks in her hands, pointing them at Trudy's heart.
She squeezed them between her fingers, laughing all the while and as Trudy stared, she saw that they were erupting cream, come that seemed to sear her skin like bullets, shooting into her. She fell down next to Nick, crying hysterically, her body riddled with semen that burned her flesh like lava.
She awoke screaming, crying out in the night, her body drenched with sweat. "Don't worry, baby, I'm here, I'm here for you," she heard her friend Stacy Roberts whispering, holding her against her body. "I didn't want to wake you before. You seemed dead to the world. Oh, and I took off your clothes. You were soaking wet. Did you ever have night sweats before?"
Trudy turned her head from side to side, still in a daze. "What's happening? My god, the dream ... I don't remember ... it was all so horrible," she cried, burying her face down against Stacy's chest.
Stacy hugged her tightly, stroking her hair. She was, at that moment, just about willing to do anything for her friend. When she had gotten back to the studio she had found Trudy whimpering on the bed. She had taken off the girl's clothes and covered her with blankets, afraid of awakening her.
Now, she brought Trudy some hot soup, urging her to eat. The girl began to recover from her nightmare as she got her bearings. Then, she felt compelled to explain the business with her aunt. Stacy was amazed, almost unbelieving. "It sounds like another bad dream, honey," she told her friend.
"But it isn't! That's the point, Stacy, It's real. She wants to kill me. I'm not lying. I'm not imagining things. What time is it?"
"A little after ten."
"And he hasn't called. Oh god, what's happened to him?" she moaned.
"He'll call, don't worry, Just relax," Stacy said, running her hands over Trudy's body.
Trudy fell against her and closed her eyes. She was still exhausted, but as she leaned against her friend, she began to realize what was happening. At first, she wasn't sure. Stacy was massaging her legs, inching up to her thighs. But there was something in her motions, her gestures, which told Trudy that the girl's touch was not merely one of friendship and maternal devotion.
No, for Stacy was definitely getting excited. She had longed to touch her friend, had longed to make love to her and now she could no longer control herself. Trudy trembled against her, but she made no move to break away, Rather, Stacy's touch was somehow comforting, loving at a time when she needed love most of all.
She accepted the older woman's caresses, letting Stacy rub her fingers up along her thighs, getting nearer and nearer to her pussy. "I want to help you," Stacy whispered in her ear, leaning forward, She slowly began to nibble on Trudy's ear, sliding down to suck on the girl's neck. Trudy shivered and as she lay against her friend, the artist suddenly pressed her heated anxious fingers right against Trudy's pussy.
Trudy whimpered at the touch, but she didn't ask Stacy to stop. She held her breath, wondering what was happening to her, wondering why she was allowing this to go on when she felt she should have been thinking about Nick, worrying after him.
But Stacy was far too accomplished in the ways of seductive love. She lowered Trudy down on the bed and swung around, knowing exactly what she wanted. "Just relax, trust me," she whispered, stretching out in front of her friend.
Trudy looked down at her, but before she could say anything, Stacy was on her. She seemed to attack her pussy with a sudden burst of frenzied delight, her long raspy tongue swooping down between Trudy's supple ivory-white thighs.
"Yes, yes," Trudy whispered. "Love me. Love every part of me, I'm so alone," she whimpered, pushing her hips forward as he felt and watched Stacy licking up and down along her hairy cunt furrow. The woman sucked the girl's puffy mound. And when she found Trudy's oversized clitoris, she shivered violently, chewing on it as she pulled it right into the hot moist cavity of her mouth.
She kept gobbling up Trudy's clit as if it was a sweetmeat, a tasty morsel. Trudy trembled from the woman's languid and experienced touch, reaching out to run her fingers through Stacy's short cropped and mannish hair.
Stacy didn't stop.
She kept working her tongue in and out of the girl's box, lapping up and down and dividing her attentions between Trudy's thick thumb-like clit and the smooth swollen lips of the girl's box, unable to stop.
She tickled the inner lips which were hidden within the folds and creases of Trudy's vagina, chewing on these as well as Trudy suddenly pushed her hips forward, slamming her snatch into Stacy's hungry willing mouth.
"Yes, do it, feel me, do it to me," she whispered, watching as her pussy was explored and stimulated, touched and fondled and lapped at with overpowering desire.
Stacy responded, sponging Trudy's delicate snatch with her lips and tongue. Her clit seemed to fascinate her and she worked her mouth over the finger of hot tender flesh, chewing on it again and again. "Let me see you," Trudy whispered.
Stacy got to her feet and quickly began to shed her clothes. She kept her eyes riveted between Trudy's legs and when she dropped her clothes she fell against her friend, grinding her body down against Trudy's.
"Yes, it feels wonderful, wonderful," she whispered, her lips finding Trudy's mouth. She thrust out her tongue and they began to kiss with a frenzy that seemed to know no bounds, no limitations. And as they kissed, they rubbed their cunts together so that their clits met, frictioning furiously against each other.
Trudy's moans grew louder as both of their twats met, their cunt lips mashing together. Stacy kept moaning, whimpering as if in heat. She wrapped her arms around Trudy and began humping down into her, pushing down from her slim mannish hips, working her own thin clitoral stalk inside the furrow of Trudy's pussy.
But Stacy had further plans, far more elaborate sexual schemes.
She was mesmerized by Trudy's clitoris and she knew what she wanted to do next. Quickly, leaving Trudy on the floor, lying on her back, she swung around, lifting her legs up and then over Trudy's shoulders.
"Fuck me," she groaned. "Fuck my ass, baby. Do it, you know how. You can use it like a cock."
Trudy had never realized that she was capable of doing this and the idea excited her incredibly. She pushed forward, pulling open the lips of her hot and juicy box. Her clitoris popped out, hard and inflamed as Stacy pulled apart the cheeks of her tight boyish ass.
Trudy looked down at the woman's delicate little hole and pushed her pussy up against her ass, wondering if her clit could penetrate very far inside. But first, she spit into the palm of her hand, rubbing the slobber up and down Stacy's bottom-hole.
Then, she shoved forward, angling her clit directly into position. At first, her clit kept slipping back into its sheath, but with Stacy's help she finally succeeded in lodging it right inside the woman's ass.
"Yes, now move, oh shit so good, so beautiful," Stacy groaned, pumping forward.
They clung to each other, rocking and pumping back and forth on the mattress. Stacy felt Trudy's clitoris plowing into her ass, stimulating her as she held onto her friend and began to play with the girl's lush heaving breasts.
She held Trudy tight and clamped her sphincter muscles against the girl's thumb-like appendage. Trudy gave a tremulous shiver of delight, smashing her pussy again and again down against Stacy's tight heaving ass.
Her hips jerked back and forth as the woman leaned over and sucked one of her nipples right into her mouth. "More," Trudy called out. The friction was making her weak with pleasure and the more she shoved forward, the more Stacy pushed towards her, the more stimulated and excited she began to feel.
As for Stacy, it felt as if her ass was on fire, the finger of cunt-flesh like a miniature cock, scraping back and forth inside her rectum. Her body tingled and she took hold of one of Trudy's hands and pushed the girl's middle finger right down into her own snatch.
"Finger-fuck me," she instructed. "Let's come together, just the two of us."
Trudy was not loath to respond. She wiggled her finger in and out of her friend's narrow twat, grabbing hold of Stacy's clit and pulling at it with her thumb and forefinger. She could feel the juices streaming down, coating the walls of Stacy's pussy as the two of them drew closer and closer to their climaxes.
Trudy used her clitoris like a cock and as she fucked her friend, relishing the unique and unusual nature of their act, she lifted Stacy's head away from her tits and pressed her lips against the woman's mouth.
Their tongues curled together and her body began to burn with a fierce sexual hunger, her juices matting her cunt hairs as she got ready to come. Stacy reached down and even as Trudy finger-fucked her pussy and stuffed her clit up into her ass, she grabbed hold of the girl's plump white bottom.
She gripped Trudy's ass cheeks, one in each hand, pushing her up against her, trying to force more and more of Trudy's clitoris into her bottom. And then she kept nipping at it with her muscles, making Trudy Heath moan with unbearable pleasure.
"Now, oh yes, I'm going to come!" the girl yelled out as they pumped back and forth on the mattress, coated with sweat, unable to stop themselves.
Stacy loved the very feel, the touch of her friend's body. She rubbed her fingers over Trudy's ass, massaging her buns with her fingertips. Then, she slid her hands down to the damp valley between the globes of Trudy Heath's ass.
"Touch me there," Trudy whispered. "I'm going to come, soon, another minute," she promised.
Heated and anxious to please, Stacy moved her fingers into the girl's crevice. She pulled her tongue out of Trudy's mouth and sucked on her chin, her neck, as she felt the tight puckered swirls of the girl's tender young anus. Quickly, hoping to make Trudy come, she thrust a stiffened finger right up to Trudy's bottom-hole.
Trudy squealed out as the woman's middle finger lodged itself inside her rectum. She kept pushing forward, her clit ramming itself in and out of Stacy's overheated and slimy backside.
Stacy rammed and pistoned her middle finger in and out at the same tempo, the same rate that she felt Trudy pumping her marvelous oversized clitoris into her ass. She knew she couldn't hold back much longer and no matter what she did to prolong the pleasure, her climax was bearing down on her, ready to explode.
The sensations seemed heightened, concentrated and as Trudy jabbed her fingers into Stacy's pussy, the older woman screamed out that she was coming.
Her body shivered and she trembled hotly, her thick slimy juices cascading down the walls of her snatch. Trudy began to come as well, clinging to her friend as the two of them moaned together, moving back and forth, unable to control themselves. They hung onto each other as Trudy kept crying out.
Stacy felt a fresh deluge of cunt juice bathing her asshole, making the opening wet and slippery. They were unable to stop. Stacy's finger moved in and out of Trudy's ass. Trudy's finger moved in and out of Stacy's cunt, her clit slamming into the woman's bottom, all at the same time.
Trudy didn't know how long they held onto each other, unable to break away. She finally let go and Stacy lowered her onto the mattress, whispering into her ear. "You're beautiful, my darling," she said.
But Trudy wasn't listening. For as soon as the pleasure had passed, the reality of her situation hit her like a blow to the head. It was late in the evening and she realized that she had to go and find Nick.
Unfortunately, that was exactly what Violet had hoped for. In fact, she had even planned on it. Because when it was close to midnight Trudy left the studio. She told Stacy that she was going to the Hotel Wilde to find Nick, for she didn't know where her aunt was staying.
"And what happens if he isn't there?" Stacy asked, afraid for her friend.
"Then I'll spend the night there and call you in the morning. Don't worry. They don't know where I am, so everything's cool."
She had underestimated her aunt. Totally.
For as soon as she left the studio a hand clamped itself over her mouth. The street was dark and deserted. There were no passersby to see what was happening. Struggling, trying to escape and cry out, Trudy was dragged to the curb where a waiting car sat parked. The back door opened and she was thrown inside.
Then the driver pulled away and when she looked up, she found herself staring into her aunt's eyes. "Good evening, my child," the woman began. "Long time no see, as they say. We've been expecting you. I'm so glad you didn't disappoint us."
"Where's Nick!" Trudy screamed out. "What have you done to him!"
Marta was driving the car and she looked up through the rearview mirror, smiling at Trudy Heath's discomfort and helplessness. As for Flanders, he sat on the other side of the girl, hoping that he would be able to get his rocks off before Violet decided her niece's fate.
Violet could sense his insatiable sexual needs and her own perverse sense of amusement was triggered by Flanders' presence. "I don't think you've met one of my associates, my dear," she said to her niece, turning to the black man. "This is Flanders, my right hand. Trudy Heath, my onetime niece."
"Fuck you!" the girl spat out, her fear melting as her anger rose up. She tried striking out at Violet, but Flanders was far too strong for her. Within a matter of seconds he had pinned her down in her seat, gripping her hands tightly with his own.
"Now, now, Miss Heath," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Be a good girl now. If you are, I'll give you a lollypop."
"His lollypop, he means," Marta called out with a laugh, turning the car onto the drive. The city was dark and few cars passed them as she kept going at an even fifty-five.
And the more Flanders stared at Trudy, the more excited he became. He switched his grip, holding onto both of her wrists with one hand while he quickly pulled down his zipper.
"You're a freak!" the girl said to her aunt.
But Violet only laughed, all eyes on Flanders as he pulled his cock out into the open. Trudy turned to see what was happening and her eyes opened wide. She could hardly believe that the man sitting next to her was playing with himself. And that he had a huge throbbing hard-on besides only added to her surprise.
"You don't mean ..." she began.
"Exactly," he grinned at her. Quickly, he pulled her around, forcing her to sit on top of his lap. Trudy started to pull away, but Violet reached into her purse and pulled out the small black revolver Marta had used to threaten Nick Prescott.
"Cooperate, my dear," she said in a breathless tone. "I want to see you squirm, on top of Flanders' pecker to be more exact. I've never seen you in action, my dear. You must be quite a piece, judging from Mr. Prescott's devotion."
Trudy opened her mouth, but no words came out. She felt numb with shock, unable to comprehend what was happening to her. That her aunt had actually kidnapped her was one thing. But that she was now anxious to see Trudy fucking her black henchman was quite another. "I'm dreaming," she said aloud.
But she knew she wasn't.
Working with feverish speed, Flanders pulled up her skirt, reached inside and grabbed hold of Trudy's panties. The gun pressed against the small of her back and she slumped forward, giving in to her aunt's sick and depraved tastes.
"Do it, she wants it. I can tell," Violet murmured.
Flanders was all too anxious to begin. He ripped Trudy's undies down, pulling them off of her hips until they fell around her ankles. Then, lifting her slightly up in the air, he aimed his massive coal-black cock into place. He could see the slim tapering lips of the girl's succulent vagina and he broke into a sweat, unable to control himself.
"Yes, yes," he whispered. "Feel it, little lady. Ten thick black inches. Just for you." And saying that, he pushed her down, thrusting her against him.
Trudy screamed out. But it was too late, far too late.
The lips of her pussy opened wide, stretched apart as Flanders battered into her with a deep searing thrust. Trudy was barely able to accommodate him. She felt her insides being stretched and ripped open as the guy's huge thick weapon of a cock plowed into her tender parts.
"No," she whimpered.
But Flanders wouldn't stop. He felt the soft moist walls of the girl's tight and elastic hole. It was much tighter and sweeter than either Violet's or Marta's pussies and he kept pushing upwards, pulling her down against his body.
Slowly, inch by inch, he worked his massive unwieldly tool into place, impaling her on his impressive super-cock. Violet watched, staring with disbelief. She had wondered if her niece would be able to handle the black guy's massive pecker, but now she knew that Trudy could take anything, anything at all.
Trudy looked down with a low-pitched moan. She watched Flanders working his penis into her. Already, more than five thick pulsating inches were buried between the outer lips of her snatch, five more to go. They guy had pulled his balls out of his pants and she saw them as well.
Like a grapefruit, she thought to herself, staring down at the wrinkled black scrotal sac which swayed from side to side. Flanders kept pushing upwards as much as he could and his cock disappeared inside her gash with a loud penetrating thrust.
"Oh yeah, she's tight all right," he mumbled, the entire length of his penis hidden within the depths and recesses of her young tender mount. "Now move baby, move!"
He forced Trudy to ride his dick, pulling her back and forth on top of his meat. Despite what was happening, Trudy did not feel any pain. She only concentrated on the heat building up in her loins, knowing that she was getting off on the guy's enormously thick rigid phallus.
Violet was utterly fascinated by the sight.
She stared as Trudy was lifted up and down and Flanders' dick moved in and out of her widely stretched pussy. She became so excited in fact that she leaned over on the seat, opening her mouth. Stretching out her tongue, Violet began to swab the base of Flanders' dong, licking it hotly and rubbing her lips against the well-crammed entrance to her niece's vagina.
Trudy saw what was happening and it only added to her surprise. She felt her aunt nibbling on her cunt lips, sucking on the black's cock as it slid in and out of her wet and dripping vagina. Flanders kept swearing, moaning loudly as Marta watched the proceedings through the rear-view mirror, finding it difficult to concentrate on her driving.
Flanders' swollen pecker moved smoothly in and out of Trudy's snatch. He was breathing hard and every muscle in his body was trembling with his insistent desires. His cock was burning, the skin rubbed raw as he plowed up into her, forcing her to ride his meat like a hobby-horse.
And Violet's sucking lapping tongue-strokes added to his delight as the woman chewed on his pubic hairs, licked the thick stem of his hose and worked herself into a sweat. "Faster!" he suddenly called out. "Ride me, baby. Feel a man going into you, a man!"
Trudy was barely conscious of what was happening. She was bounced and jiggled on top of Flanders' lap, his cock filling her to an incredible degree. It was almost as if she could taste it in her mouth, as if he had penetrated her very guts with the forceful exertions of his oversized tool.
It seemed to her that Flanders was like a machine. His entire body was like some sexual engine, highly tuned, every muscle working towards that highly shattering and explosive moment or climax. She wanted to come as well, wanted to see how much cream he would shoot into her and how his body would react to that final moment of unbearable and wracking delight.
"I'm gonna shoot, ladies!" he called out triumphantly. "Oh yeah, harder. Work it in, kiddo. Up and down, beautiful, beautiful."
He grit his teeth and swung her about like a rag doll, pumping back and forth with bone-jarring momentous strokes. Trudy felt as if she was being swallowed alive. Flanders was touching every inch of her pussy, frictioning against the entire hot length of her vagina canal.
Her ass quivered and bounced against his hard muscular thighs and she felt the dampness of her pussy wetting his pants as he kept stroking into her, one lightning-like thrust followed quickly by another. But he could not keep it up for too much longer.
His cock flicked wildly from side to side and then he trembled against her. Violet felt what was happening and she sucked even harder, wondering if she would be able to feel the man's cock ejaculating into her niece's overworked snatch.
"Yes, now, feel it, kiddo!" he suddenly screamed out, no longer in control of himself. "Feel my come, my thick hot come! All of it! All of it! Every last thick drop!"
Then, Trudy slumped against him as she felt the most incredible load of cream began to pour into her snatch. It began spurting out, white and thick, shooting straight up into her cunt like a geyser, the cream falling back against the walls of her pussy, dripping down over her thighs.
Flanders kept moaning, ranting and raving above the sound of the engine. Violet kept sucking, feeling the come flowing out of the man's tool, tasting it as it dribbled back down and coated his pubic bush.
She was wetting her pants, dripping through her undies as both Flanders and her niece experienced an almost simultaneous orgasm. Trudy nearly lost consciousness and she closed her eyes as Flanders fell back against the seat, his cock shriveling inside her damp sticky hole.
"That's just for openers," her aunt said, getting back up and looking into her niece's widely dilated eyes. "There'll be more, my sweet, my pretty. Lots more for you and your friend, dear Mr. Nick Prescott."
Trudy didn't know what to say. She kept her eyes averted, her pussy dripping with come. She didn't know what to expect any more. But, if anything, she didn't doubt the truth of her aunt's threat. She knew Violet would do anything, anything at all to get her inheritance.
* * *
At the Hotel LeGrande the night clerk looked up to find himself smiling at Buddy Moran, the house detective. "Hey," he said with a grin, "I thought you were on vacation. Florida, wasn't it?"
"I was rained out," Buddy admitted, chewing on the ragged stub of a cigar. "I got a little homesick for my beat," and he motioned to the hotel lobby. "A man gets antsy without anything to do. So I thought I'd pay you a visit, see what's happening."
"Oh, by the way, there was a fellow here to see you this afternoon. A Nick Prescott. Said he was a friend of yours."
"Sure," Buddy smiled. "Nick and I are old buddies, from way back. What did he want? Did he say?"
"No, he had some business with one of the guests, a Violet Heath up in 1219. In fact, I think he may still be up there now. I haven't seen him leave. Let me ring her suite."
Buddy leaned back against the front desk and waited. He hadn't seen Nick in months and now he hoped his friend was still visiting. He wanted to buy him a drink, talk about old times. The night clerk came back with a expression of surprise on his face.
"I was sure he hadn't left, but no one answers the phone."
"Let me go up and surprise him."
"Sure thing, Buddy, only knock before you use the key," and he grinned, handing Buddy the skeleton key which opened every room in the hotel.
When Buddy got to Room 1219 he knocked loudly on the door. He heard nothing and waited. Then, as if from far away, he thought he heard someone mumbling. Wondering what was up, hoping he wouldn't catch his friend in bed with a chick, he put the key in the lock and turned the knob.
The door swung up, but the living room of the suite was empty. He walked inside, closing the door behind. "Anyone home," he called out. And when he waited for a reply, the muted sounds grew louder. They seemed to come from inside the bedroom and Buddy knocked on the door, wondering what was going on.
Funny, he thought to himself. The door was locked and he put the key into place and turned the knob, hoping for the best. But what he saw made him open his mouth with shock and surprise. The cigar fell onto the floor.
Nick Prescott was lying on his back, totally naked, he was bound and gagged and when he saw Buddy he began to moan all the more loudly.
"Holy shit!" his friend murmured, quickly undoing the gag around Nick's mouth.
"Man, you're a fucking godsend," the house detective said, waiting for his friend to undo the ties around his arms and legs.
"What the fuck's going on?" Buddy asked, noticing all the come stains on the sheets, the huge rubber dildo lying on the floor, stained with blood and reek.
Nick explained as best he could, massaging his wrists and ankles to get the blood going. Buddy brought him some water and he gulped it down. "How did you ever find out I was here?"
Buddy told his part of the story and when Nick filled him in on the rest of the gory and rather unbelievable details, the house detective was up in arms. "I'll call the cops!" he said, moving to the phone.
"No, no you can't. They may have Trudy by now. Let me call her friend and see what's been happening." But when he spoke to Stacy, she sounded frightened and incredibly alarmed.
"Said she was going over to the Wilde to find out. Don't you know where she is? My God, Prescott! They may have murdered her by now!"
"No, I'm sure they haven't. They need me for their dirty little scheme. Don't worry, Stacy. Just sit by the phone. I'll get back to you as soon as I can find her. And whatever you do, don't call the cops. Not yet at least!"
Then, he asked Buddy to speak to the night clerk. "If that Heath dame comes in, ring her suite," he explained. "I'll explain everything later. But don't tell her we're up in the room. It's a matter of life and death."
Moran was glad he had worn his service revolver. He had it in a holster under his arm and now, he checked to make sure it was loaded.
"They'll bring her back here for sure," Nick told him.
They did not have to wait too very long. Less than an hour later the phone rang. Buddy jumped, but Nick put his hand on the receiver. "They're on their way up now," the night clerk said breathlessly, enjoying his role in what he fancied was a mystery play in which he was crucial character.
"Get the police and have them wait outside the room," Nick said. Then he hung up abruptly. They closed the bedroom door and Buddy took out his gun. A few minutes later, the front door was unlocked and they both heard Violet Heath, cursing at the top of her lungs.
"You little smelly cunt. After you see your friend, you'll know how serious I am, bitch!"
A key was inserted in the bedroom door and Buddy motioned Nick back. He didn't want to use the gun unless it was absolutely necessary.
When the door swung open, Violet yelled out in surprise. "He's gone!" she screamed. She moved into the room and Buddy thrust the butt of his revolver into the small of her back.
"As they say, don't nobody move," Nick snarled, standing by his friend.
Marta made a move to the door and as for Flanders, he had no weapon but his fists. He started to grab Trudy, who couldn't believe what was happening.
"Touch her and she's dead," Buddy said, pushing the gun into Violet's back.
She nodded her head to the black man and Nick grabbed Trudy and pulled her away from Flanders. They heard the sound of scuffling in the hall and the door swung open again as Marta Braun was led inside by two tall and burly policemen. A detective followed in close pursuit, his gun out, not knowing what to expect.
Flanders lifted his hands up and Violet began to scream, cursing her niece, cursing Flanders for his stupidity, cursing Marta for running out on her.
Nick tried to explain what was happening but the detective found it difficult to believe. "You're telling me she's trying to kill her niece? For money?"
It was only down at the station house that Buddy and Nick were able to convince the precinct captain of what had happened. Violet's attorney was unable to post bail, set at $25,000.
"It's over," Nick told Trudy after she had spoken to her own attorney. "A couple more weeks and you'll be twenty-five and she'll be up on trial on charges of kidnapping and intent to kill."
"It's just ... just so hard to believe, Nick. I never thought she'd try to go through with it. God, if it wasn't for your friend we might both be dead by now."
"But we're not, and that's what counts. Right now I think we both could use a nice long rest:"
"Let me take you then!" she said, smiling and hugging him tightly. "Anywhere, anywhere you want. Europe, Africa, the South Seas. I have more money now than I know what to do with. Oh please, Nick. Let me make you happy."
"Sure, kiddo. Whatever you say." He looked down into her eyes and suddenly didn't doubt her. That it was finally over, that the game of cops and robbers had been played for keeps and that they had won, was still something he found difficult to believe. He told Trudy to call her friend and when she came out of the phone booth they got into a cab and went back downtown to the Hotel Wilde.
"Do you love me, really love me?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Don't bullshit me, Nick Prescott. I'm not a little girl any more. Not now, not ever again. I need you. Is that good enough?"
He knew he couldn't say no. Just looking at her, seeing her ripe pert breasts rising and falling, hearing the throaty breathless quality of her voice, all made him tremble with desire. His body ached to hold her, comfort her, to love her for as long as he was able.
Looking out the window of the taxi he saw the dark streets, empty and silent. But they were no longer frightening, ominous. They were no longer the pursued and he put his hand around her shoulders as she snuggled up to him.
"I've never seen the pyramids," he whispered.
"Neither have I. But now we will. And that's not a threat, Mr. Prescott. That's a promise."
