Though it was scarcely thirty minutes into twilight, darkness was beginning to settle thickly over the city of New York, and night's sudden approach was nowhere more apparent than by the fountain in Central Park. But the sudden encroachment of darkness was halted this particular evening, and the well-manicured lawns of the Park, still bearing the traces of summer green well into September, were brightly lighted with a half dozen carbon arcs, their bluish smoke-streams faintly trailing out behind them as they cast a daylight-bright glow onto the trio of fashion models being led through their practiced motions by one of the city's leading ad agency creative directors, Marty Felder. And mingled in with the crowd of curious passers-by and agency hangers on were two young people who viewed the fascinating scenario of television color commercials being created with particular interest, Jessica Richards and her boyfriend, Phillip Wright, had not chanced on this happening-in-the-Park; their presence had been carefully calculated, right down to the cost of the subway that brought them here from Jessica's aunt's brownstone house down near the Village. Actually, the scheming was more of Jessica's doing than of Phillip's, for she alone had a real and clearly defined reason for being present when Marty Felder put his models through their paces. Jessica, too, was a model; at least, she'd studied successfully with one of the east's top modeling schools and had been through the necessary requisites of fifteen dollar modeling assignments and posing for the mandatory badge of the modeling profession, the portfolio of stills every girl lugged from agency to agency until she found just that right break that tossed her into the hundred dollar an hour league and splashed her features across the country's biggest magazines. But Jessica Richards had not yet discovered that break, though she'd tried as diligently and determinedly as any girl in New York, and Marty Felder offered her the one shortcut available. But it was a painful shortcut she dreaded to take, one that would destroy everything between her and Phillips if he were to find out.
It was a week ago today, almost exactly to the minute, when she'd finally managed an interview with the heavy, beady eyed Felder in his plush paneled offices on the thirteenth floor of a Madison Avenue skyscraper. Phillip, true to their long-standing rules of job-hunting, had waited outside on the Avenue; he'd finished his own round of agency visits before noon, unsuccessful for the third week running in his hunt for an art opening where he could use his New York School of Fine Arts training better than at the bargain-basement department store advertising department he'd just quit. Most of the agency people had already cleared their desks and gone back to Connecticut and Long Island when Felder remembered his four-thirty appointment still sitting in his reception office, and with a flourish of obviously contrived courtesy, ushered her in for a quick cursory glance at her well-traveled portfolio, now slightly the worse for wear from being dragged from one agency to another, from modeling house to advertising agency to television package producers to network casting offices.
Marty Felder proved to be a man incapable of beating around the bush; but neither did he fail to choose his words oh-so-carefully, with the polished subtlety of a man long accustomed to propositioning eager young girls who searched him out in their quest for modeling success. He was just obvious enough to make his point, even with the paddle-headed adolescent he mistakenly thought she was; subtle enough to avoid being hauled into court by some sly, recorder-carrying golddigger, in case his long-perfect appraisal of his young job-seeker proved grossly incorrect.
"It's easy to go a long way in this business, Miss Richards," he had smoothly purred that late afternoon, "It just depends on your looks, which you've obviously got, and your, uh ..."--he paused here dramatically for a long, slow exploratory assessment of every rich full swell and hollow of her five-and-three-quarters feet, obviously impressed with the fullness and maturity nineteen years had brought to his blonde guest--"... cooperation," he continued finally, after satisfying himself, apparently, that the ripely blossoming teenager sitting before him was worth a few minutes of his busy day. She sat uncomfortably in silence for a few moments, while Felder retraced with his eyes his hungry path over her bulging knit sweater and matching belted hot pants, coursing down over her young body, following the rippling wave of her luxuriant, rich blonde hair as it spilled over the ripe swells of her breasts like sparkling water over polished stone. She had managed a feeble, stammering reply to his unveiled proposition, a proposition of her own that she'd have to think about his terms. Jessica had surprised even herself with her unabashed frankness that day, for she had never had to face such an enigmatic obstacle before. Until then, it was always a no, yes or nothing for her career as far as he was concerned ...
* * *
Marty Felder glanced up from his crouching position, where he was squinting into a Minolta spot-type lightmeter the photographer was holding toward the carefully-poised form of Gloria Annenburg, an Austrian import who was one of Felder's discoveries and who, Madison Avenue legend has it, occupies a bedroom suite of her own in his mid-town penthouse, available at any hour to satisfy the terms of her meteoric success in a most unique manner. He spotted Jessica, smiled openly, then visibly cooled as he checked out the dimensions of her escort. For though only twenty one, Phillip Wright was excellently built, broad through the shoulders and chest, but with a slim tapered waist that evidenced his morning three-mile runs and high-protein diet. Phillip determined long ago that, while he was definitely an artist, it wasn't necessary to effect that gaunt, teetering-at-starvation's-door appearance so many of his contemporaries seemed to carry like an identification card of their trade.
Jessica excused herself by telling Phillip, quite truthfully, that she had to deliver a message to Mr. Felder.
She moved forward through the curiously-staring crowd, elbowing past a couple of elderly ladies in true New Yorker fashion, a tactic she'd managed to learn, though California was her real home. At the crowd's edge was a taut, heavy rope, carefully placed just far enough back to keep prying hands from the thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment. As Jessica started to lift the restraining rope, one of the agency's hired private police hurried to intercept her; he was a frightfully old, rather rheumatic gentleman, unusually absurd in the blue uniform of the law. He looked as though he could possibly, and only possibly, be a marshal in a retirement home.
"Sorry, Miss. This is as far as you can go. These people have city permission," he said as if he expected her to question their legality. "You'll have to stay behind the line with all the others."
Jessica smiled brightly, unruffled, "I'm a friend of Mr. Felder." The geriatric officer looked puzzled, "You know, the man over there ... the one who hired you.
The uniformed guard looked in the direction of the cameras and operating lights, remembering finally that there was, indeed, a Mr. Felder running the show. Marty caught his eye and signaled an okay.
"Thank you ever so much," said Jessica cheerily as me old man held the rope high enough for her to walk through without bending.
The heavily perspiring Felder nodded and smiled thinly at her approach, sending one of his mini-clad secretaries off to get some coffee as Jessica carne closer. "Well, fancy meeting you out here in Central Park," he smiled slightly arrogantly.
Jessica decided to waste no time; his tone was beginning already to bear some traces of hostility. She had a task to do ... and there was no logic in waiting a second longer than necessary.
"I ... I ... uh, wanted to tell you I've made up my mind on your ... your offer," she said, a bit embarrassed that someone might be listening. She thought she heard a muffled chuckle behind her, but decided not to turn around. Her head was lowered just a bit, her eyes darting around at the impressive array of network-owned television equipment, her gaze averted from Felder's.
"Right, baby!" he nearly shouted. He started to put his hands on her shoulders, but remembered the healthy-looking friend still out there in the crowd. "How about tomorrow night? You can meet me at the office around seven thirty. I'll tell the night security man your name and you can come right up."
Jessica regained her courage and looked him in the eye again, "Okay. I'll be there."
"Marvelous, sweetie," he leered, "Dinner first, then ... Well, we'll have to see what happens."
* * *
Phillip had that questioning look about him when she managed to squeeze her way back to him, but he chose not to ask any questions. They watched a little longer, then, like most of the others, began to leave when real darkness set in. New Yorkers would rather be in the relative safety of their own apartments when nighttime arrives, and Jessica and Phillip were no exceptions. Only tonight, Jessica had invited Phillip to spend the night at her aunt's. He'd have to use the living room sofa, of course, but this way they'd be up early and off for their picnic out at the beach.
"Let's forget a cab tonight," suggested Jessica, her arm around his hips as they walked slowly toward the subway stairs. There were still plenty of people about, and even here on the edge of Central Park, they felt safe and comfortable.
"I'd hoped you wouldn't mind," confessed Phillip. "Actually, I was worried I wouldn't have enough to get us out to Coney Island. I'm sorry, Jessica, I just don't know where the money went. I guess ..."
"Quiet, darling," she said, squeezing him tightly, "I don't care about the money. You'll have tons of it one day. I just know you will. With your talent, it's only a matter of time before you're the hottest art talent in the business. You'll see, Phillip."
Phillip didn't reply; he had heard Jessica's optimistic praise before, and though he hoped her enthusiasm was warranted, he was fast getting tired. Tired of being turned down, tired of hunting for that big break that might not even be there. He held Jessica's slender young body close to his, reassuringly. Nighttime settled quickly in the canyons of the city, and her radiant warmth felt good in the evening chill. His right hand was in his trousers pocket, and with his fingers, Phillip could feel the paper-thin fold of one-dollar bills. And that was all he had left from his final paycheck at the store, all until the elusive opening came his way.
And he couldn't help wondering if it would ever come at all.
Chapter 2
Jessica's aunt, Mildred Whithers, was asleep when they arrived, a small blessing she was indeed grateful for, as Aunt Mildred had a tendency to ramble on for hours, particularly when she had me rare privilege of meeting new people. Jessica helped her boyfriend make up his bed on the sofa and tip-toed upstairs to her bedroom, kissing him affectionately before her departure.
She unfastened the clip at the back of her head and brushed the day's knots and tangles from her thick blonde hair, sitting before the antique vanity mirror on a padded stool. Her thoughts went back to the last time she and Phillip had been together, other than their daytime meetings for job-hunting. They had borrowed a car from a friend of his from school and driven up into the New York upstate hillsides. Her heart nearly missed a beat even now, thinking about me beauty and romance of it all. They had found a gorgeously secluded place for sharing their picnic lunch, and before either of them realized it, their warm kisses had become flaming hot caresses. She remembered Phillip's hand on her breasts; the way she'd offered no resistance as he unfastened her bra, thinking that nothing would be wrong with it, the tender tingle of his fingers on her young nipples, the way he made her gasp for breath and squeal as he played with her breasts there on me grassy hillside beneath a sheltering elm tree. And she recalled also how she'd been so dreamily unconcerned with the reality of it all, blinded by the rapturous music of romance, that she hadn't stopped his hand as it slid up her leg with one smooth, unhesitating movement and went straight under the thin sheerness of her panties to the pink moist lips of her vagina. Even now her mouth went dry at the memory of that moment, at the frightening closeness she had experienced that afternoon, a closeness to losing her virginity she had failed so blindly to see coming. She had been nearly crazy with love for Phillip that day when his fingertips played tenderly with me ragged pink flanges of her pussy, tweaked playfully the tender nerve-filled bud of her clitoris. His fingers had probed deeply into the hot thin vaginal passage up between her slightly parted legs as he had tried to tug her panties down. It seemed now that perhaps it was the chill of the air on her unaccustomedly naked thighs that triggered her response, returned her to normalcy. Phillip had first pleaded, then argued, and finally, demanded that she cooperate, but she had resolutely stood her ground, and in me end, she emerged the winner. He had pouted for awhile, looking for all the world like a five year old who'd been deprived of a toy. Then, he'd finally begun to speak to her again, offering to do anything she liked to make it safe. Use rubbers, pull it out in time, anything ... and the rest of their day was far from the spring-like romance it had been before. They had driven back to the city in near silence, speaking only as necessary, and then only in monosyllabic mutterances, her with an uncomfortable wetness between her legs that soaked her panties and threatened to stain through her dress. And Phillip with that bulging hardness under his trousers mat she could see so clearly in the light from the automobile dash gauges.
And now this! How could she reconcile all that with what had just this evening happened? She couldn't pretend she didn't know what Marty Felder wanted of her, that she didn't know the full lurid extent of his proposition. How could she leave her own real love alone on the sofa when tomorrow she would be called on to ... Oh God, she just couldn't bear to think about it! It was just more than she could handle tonight ... tomorrow would have to take care of itself.
Jessica undressed and slipped between the cool crisp sheets and soon sank into a tossing, fitful sleep.
Jessica's restlessness had kicked the covers off her naked young body as she dreamed a tormented dream of lovemaking, of Phillip's nakedness against hers. And of Marty Felder.
Her door opened gently and squeaked a shrill alarm that seemed a dozen times louder in the quiet of the night. Jessica opened her eyes as Phillip stepped into the room, wearing nothing but his white undershorts.
"Phillip! Have you lost your mind?!" she tried to whisper and shout at the same time.
He came over toward her in the pale moonlight from the open second story window; she could see the bulging mound concealed inside his shorts and knew instantly what was on his mind.
"Phillip," she repeated, "you must be crazy. Aunt Mildred will hear you and throw us both out! You have to leave ... now!"
But he came at her and pulled her up into his arms, yanking her nakedness up against his strong body and kissing her furiously, his tongue snaking between her lips hungrily. She felt frightened and strangely excited at the same time, and a kind of emptiness ached in her belly. He pushed forward and she yielded to the powerful pressure, falling back onto the bed beneath his crushing weight. His hand began to rake her body, smoothing over the ripe swell of her bare breasts; his lips found her pink crinkly nipple and he bit into it painfully. She covered her mouth hurriedly to stifle the cry that nearly escaped.
"No, Phillip, no!" she whispered angrily, aware now of the dangerous position she was in.
But his hand roamed caressingly over her body, gently over ribs and belly, stroking the fragrant, sparse fleece of her pubis so that she itched between her legs and squirmed to escape his teasing touch. But his hand soon found her treasures again and pushed aside the soft pink lips of her pussy as his tongue had pushed aside hers. She gasped, nearly choking from the surprised entry, squirming still, but now against his fingers rather than away.
"Oh, Phillip, please," she murmured, breathlessly now, "We can't ... we can't."
In an instant, he was out of his shorts and Jessica could feel the huge, hot throbbing of his penis against her hip in the darkness. His ravishing fingers probed deeper and deeper in her tender virginal passage. Her neck arched off the mattress, her teeth gritted, as she managed a weak, rasping, "N-No, Phillip ... p-please ..."
Phillip took her hand and placed it on his prick; she recoiled at the initial touch. God, it was enormous ... she'd never realized they were so huge! His own fingers over hers began a slow massaging motion and when he pulled away, her fingertips continued the gentle caressing movement on their own. As much from curiosity as from passion, Jessica allowed her fingers to drop down to the hairy swollen firmness of his balls, and she stroked them gently, holding their heavy weight in her open palm. Phillip was grinding his teeth noisily and grunting between breaths. She felt the first oozing drop of semen on her thigh as his immense cock rested there; for a moment, she wondered if that might be his ejaculation, but his prick was still as hard and rigid as a young sapling.
"Jessica, darling, please ... we've got to, honey, or I'll go crazy!"
"Phillip, we've been through this before. I told you ... no, no!"
And even as she mouthed her words, refused him, Jessica knew it wasn't right. Dear God, how can I refuse him? How can I refuse myself?!
She knew she couldn't stop him if he really wanted to; only yelling to Aunt Mildred for help could stop him, and she'd never do that. After all, this wasn't any villainous intruder. This was Phillip!
"Jesus, I've got to have you," he moaned and rolled onto her. She squirmed to get from beneath him, but was not strong enough to lift his weight.
"No, please, no!"
She clenched her thighs tight together snub felt the immensity of his throbbing, lust-inflated cock between them, long and hard in the vise-like grip of her bare legs. In one last effort to ward off his frightening advance, Jessica squeezed her legs even tighter together. at can 't be like this! I've got to have time to think!
There was a gasp ... Phillip moaned, holding his breath interminably, and suddenly Jessica felt his prick expand and shudder as if alive. He gasped a quick breath, then gasped again and again as Jessica felt the hot sticky flood of his climax splatter over her thighs and drip down between them.
His weight was like a dead man on her as he lay there very still his breath erratic and panting. She stroked his head tenderly, afraid now that his cries might have awakened Aunt Mildred. But there was no sound from down the hall if, indeed, she was awake.
He lay there a very long time, then climbed wearily to his feet, searching for his undershorts in the darkness. She grabbed his arm and Sculled him to her face, kissing him warmly. There were no words ... and there seethed no need for any.
Jessica closed her eyes as she heard the bedroom dour softly shut. And in a few minutes, she was asleep again, as though he'd never been there nakedly beside her ...
Chapter 3
Jessica identified herself to the uniformed night guard at Marty Felder's Madison Avenue agency address; the old man said nothing, but gave her a knowing wink as he motioned toward the elevators. Obviously, after-hours visitors were not out of the ordinary for Felder, something she could have guessed quite easily without the old man's help.
The agency door was open when she stepped from the elevator car at the thirteenth floor; down the long open central room she could see a couple of young men, most likely copywriters, at work at a large desk in the back. Behind them was a cork storyboard, with paste-up drawings of the television commercial frames yet to be filmed. They were using a small Sony tape recorder, and the peppy jingle sounded odd and out-of-place, somehow out of context. Marty's door was open, too-that was something she'd noticed about advertising agencies, people seldom worked behind closed doors. She didn't know whether to attribute that to a convivial sense of sharing, or if the well-known agency "pirating" was more likely the reason for giving no one cause to be suspicious.
Felder was up and out of his chair before Jessica reached the doorway. "Hello, luv'," he greeted her, "I was just finishing up. Let's go out through the parking garage and I'll get out of these work clothes." Jessica thought his outfit was more than adequate for anything going at this hour in New York, but she didn't question him.
"Sure. Anything you say." The two young men in the back of the main work room, their slightly-long hair over their expensive collars, glanced up, frozen in mid-stride, for a moment. The raucous, tiny jingle blared on; then after smiling knowingly they went back to their work.
Felder led the way down the darkened corridor, past the brightly-decorated offices of the creative staff of Hartfield and Marsh. Jessica tried to steal a quick glance into the empty offices as they hurried past; many of the walls were covered with color eight by ten's of models for the agencies various accounts-models like herself. Or like she wanted to be.
"My car's in the basement," said Felder, "Why don't you go on down. It's a Cadillac ... Eldorado. It's safe down there, lots of lights, and a night attendant. Just tell him you're looking for my car. I've got to stop by the sixteenth floor and use the telex line. But only for a minute, okay? Be right there." And with that, he left the elevator and she was alone again. When the car reached its destination and the doors opened again, she discovered she was in a cavernous, neon-lit basement garage, all purple and humming from the thin tubes that lined the ceiling. Another guard, almost identical to the one she'd first encountered on coming in from Madison Avenue, stirred from his folding aluminum chair when the metal doors whirred open.
"Yes, Ma'am, can I help you," he offered politely, smiling rather mechanically.
"Mr. Felder told me to wait for him here ... in his car."
"Yes, Ma'am," said the guard, "it's over there. The dark green one."
Jessica thanked him and followed his directions to a Forest Green Eldorado and climbed in. She nestled down in the luxurious interior, surrounded by yards of natural leather; even the smell of the car was rich. It felt oddly homey and familiar, as if a car like this was where she had belonged all along. She had turned the collar of her coat up and was sitting with her eyes closed when Felder arrived.
"Like it. baby?" he asked, standing in the splash of multi-colored lights that lit-up instantly when he opened the door.
"Yes, it's beautiful. But it must have cost a lot of money," she said rather innocently.
"Yeah, but it's worth it. When you've got a job like mine, first impressions mean a lot. You'd be surprised how many people judge a man by the car he drives."
"Yes ... I suppose so."
After crossing town, knifing through the early evening traffic like an expensive cruiser cuts through water, they entered another underground garage, waiting for the gates to electrically open after Marty had pressed the button installed under the left side of the Cadillac's dash.
"Radio-controlled," he said by way of explanation.
Jessica only nodded, looked up with her neck craned for a better look at this frightfully expensive looking apartment building near the south end of Central Park. She wasn't certain exactly where, for she had become lost in the quick series of corners they'd taken from Madison Avenue.
The elevator door was open for them, and in a few quick moments, they were on the twenty-third floor. When they were in the entry hallway, Jessica glanced around, wondering which of the four doorways was Felder's. She eyed the nameplates of each, but none gave her a clue ... Robbins, Saperstein, Alexander, and Van Root.
"No, not here. We've got one more elevator to take," said Felder. It was only then that Jessica noticed the steel-blue doors of the second elevator; but this one had no call buttons to push, only a keyed plate midway up the wall beside the doors. Marty inserted a key from his key-ring and turned it halfway. The doors opened with an electronic noise like something out of a spy-thriller movie; bright light spilled out into the corridor.
"Hop aboard. It's the Felder Express," he laughed.
Jessica stepped inside and watched curiously as he pressed the sole button, marked "P." Only then did she realize Marty Felder owned the penthouse.
His condominium apartment was immense, even for this plush section of New York, and from any of his four terraces, there was a spectacular view of the world's number one city by night. Looking out over the sparkling lights, you could almost forget about the crime and abuse, the filth and pollution that had scarred New York like the ravages of leprosy. Jessica stood by the railing, breathing in the cool night air mat seemed somehow less dirty now that night had hidden the belching Con Edison smokestacks and the millions of reeking exhaust pipes in a mantle of darkness.
"Gee, Mr. Felder, it must be exciting living here like this. I mean, you've got a view of the whole city. There must be something going on all the time down there. And you can see all of it any time you like!" Jessica was busily taking it all in, following the sweep of the streets and avenues she was able to identify, including the dazzling streak of incandescent splendor that marked the course of Broadway cutting diagonally across the crowded Manhattan Island.
When she didn't get an answer, she turned to see where her host--and hopefully, her employer--had taken himself. She spotted him at the opposite end of the long richly-carpeted living room, busily fiddling with a thermos-sealed canister and a tiny colored pipe that appeared to be made of stone or clay. "In here, honey!" he shouted, and Jessica went back inside from the glorious night to join him. She could feel her pulse racing much quicker than usual and she knew it was from the boost of adrenaline she'd just received from the excitement of being in this movie-set world, an exclusive tiny portion of the city that was usually reserved for the very rich or the very famous. And she was here, she was a part of it! This was the storybook fantasy world she had dreamed of for so many years ... and now there was a chance for it to all become real!
"Have a little of this, it'll take the day's tensions away in a hurry," offered Felder, extending his hand with the tiny reddish-colored pipe between his thumb and first finger.
Jessica took the proffered calmative cautiously, eyeing the smoldering Middle-Eastern-looking device with growing suspicion. One sharp inhale of the curling bluish smoke confirmed her fears ... it was hashish!
"First time?"
"Uh, no ... I just didn't recognize it at first," lied Jessica. Actually, she had been around it often enough; she'd watched her friends get stoned out of their minds plenty of times. But she'd never gathered the courage to try it herself. Oh hell, it can't be all that bad ... didn't the government admit that millions of Americans have tried marijuana or hashish at least once.?
"Well, anyway, here, give it a try."
"Oh, I don't know ... maybe a glass of wine or something might be better," she said.
But Felder was insistent, "Go ahead. It won't hurt you. And it won't pickle your liver like wine will. Come on, live a little."
Those words were familiar ... when she'd come here from Ohio, that had been her exact plan--to live a little. She took the pipe from him and took a light cautious puff, more like a sip than a swallow.
"No, no," corrected Felder, "You've got to hold it all down. Take a really deep drag and keep it in your lungs as long as you can."
Jessica followed his instructions and nearly choked on the sweet-smelling smoke as it filled her lungs until she thought they'd burst or catch fire. But she managed to hold it down a few seconds.
"That's better," said Felder. "Take a look at me doing it once and you'll be smoking it like a pro." He held the clay pipe's tip between his slightly-parted lips, not touching it, and inhaled a thick acrid cloud of the smoke. Jessica imitated his technique, and this time she felt the powerful fumes trigger a hidden alarm somewhere in the recesses of her brain. When he passed it back to her once again, she pushed it away, "I think that's enough for me, Mr. Felder. It sort of makes me dizzy, you know?" She realized she was grinning when she spoke, and she felt suddenly very foolish and silly, like she wanted to giggle.
"You've hardly started, baby," he insisted, and handed the warm pipe back to her.
"Well, maybe, just once more. And I'd like to hear more about what kind of job you have for me ... you did say there was something available, didn't you?"
"Sure, baby, sure. Only let's not talk business right now. I've been doing that all day. Here, have another drag on the ol' pipe."
Somewhat reassured now, Jessica took another drag from the glowing pipe-bowl, watching it intently as it flared into a red hot ball of sticky hashish coals from her sharp intake of breath.
"Now, see what I mean," said Felder, his hand on her shoulder lightly, "it's damn good hash, right?"
Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but there was nothing there. Her head suddenly began to spin like a carrousel, and when she looked out the huge expanse of plate glass that lined the living room, she saw only a whirling kaleidoscope of jewel-like pinpoints of color and light racing by. Suddenly she was very frightened ... she'd never been totally out of control of her own body. But now she was; her muscles and limbs refused to be commanded by her brain.
Jessica closed her eyes for a moment. It wasn't really a voluntary act, more the forced surrender of her heavy eyelids to me powerful drug. And when she opened them again, reluctantly, she gasped for breath, nearly crying out at the unexpected surprise that greeted her.
Marty Felder was naked!
Chapter 4
It took nearly a full minute for the horrible realization to sink in, to etch its rabid truth in the cells of her drugged brain. Again she tried to speak, to scream, anything, but it was useless. She looked at him dumbly, her eyes now glazed with the grayish translucence familiar to chronic hashish smokers. He was fatter than she would have imagined ... his flesh sagged and was smeared with the wetness of his perspiration. Under the drooping sag of his belly, his penis jutted out like a small cannon, surrounded by a jet black fuzz of hair. She giggled hysterically, unable to help herself, then shivered violently. The dawning awareness of what he had in store for her revolted her. The very thought of his middle-aged paunch sprawled over her naked body was too much. Just the very thought was enough to turn her stomach ... she couldn't believe that she would ever have agreed to even come here. And certainly not ... this!
Felder came toward her, his eyes bugged with delight as he mentally undressed his prize young catch, pausing to savor me choicer parts of her ripening anatomy. "Take your dress off," he ordered roughly, a changed, more menacing person now under me effects of the powerful African hallucinogenic.
Jessica shook her head firmly, "N-No, no ... I can't. I-I can't do it."
"Take it off, you Goddamn bitch, or I'll take it off for you!" he barked.
Jessica looked around vainly for a way out, but remembered the locked elevator and the intricate winding route back to the outside; she'd never escape him by running, that was certain.
"Well, what're you waiting for, cunt? Take that damn dress off ... right now!"
Jessica knew she had to do something to buy some time, even if it meant stripping her clothes off in front of this horrid man. She slipped the short dress over her head with trembling fingers, standing before him now in bra and panties and panty hose, still wearing her leader boots that stopped just below the knee. He gazed wildly at her long legs, so pertly trim and smooth, her firm breasts which made little white mounds over the cups of her bra, her snow-white bare midriff, the gentle swell of her roundly curved young hips. His penetrating look frightened her even more, and she gasped, tearfully, "I can't ... Please don't make me do it. I can't!"
He came toward her. His eyes showed no chance of escape for her-they were lustful, cruel and unyielding. Suddenly his strong arms enveloped her and his lips engulfed hers voraciously, sucking them into his wet, drooling mouth. She began to struggle, but she was so dizzy from the hashish she could scarcely stand. She knew any minute she would buckle and collapse in a heap on the floor. She fought to retain consciousness, her one chance to prevent this awful nightmare from happening to her. His tongue seemed to fill her mouth, brushing wetly around inside, and blocking the much-needed air necessary for the young blonde to remain conscious. His flesh smelled sweaty, strongly so in his lustful straining fury, and seemed to surround her, trapping her like a tiny flower in one huge meaty palm.
"No, no, I won't," she insisted, regaining a measure of her courage, "let me go this minute, you hear!"
She struggled furiously but he moved her with him across the luxurious room as if they were one body, seeming to flow like liquid, heedless of her feeble resistance. She felt a great, frenzied fear knotted in her belly and her body and limbs began to tremble uncontrollably. The dizziness was growing worse, the whole room spinning crazily around her in a topsy-turvy kaleidoscope of colors and light.
She found the ceiling was straight ahead. It couldn't be true! She was flat on her back, pinned like some small helpless captive prey before this beast. There was a crushing weight on her that emptied her lungs ... a strong hand snatched the sheer fabric of her bra away. The air was suddenly chill and menacing on her naked young breasts. Felder's probing fingers found the taut band of her panties and pulled, yanking them, along with her pantyhose down to her knees.
"Kick off those boots ... right now!"
She obeyed, and in another instant, she was naked, her body uncovered now and vulnerable to this sadistic animal's hungry touch. His body seemed to flow over her in a crushing tide, like molten lava. His hands were everywhere, on her face, sliding down over the quivering pink buds of her nipples, down between the sides of her whitely trembling young thighs. She blacked out for a moment, then regained her senses ... there was a sudden deep, thrusting entry as if a thick pole had been rammed into her body. She gasped and jerked away, terrified, but the ravaging member followed her splitting into the softness of her pubic hair and the wet mouth came back onto her, nibbling at her lips and her tongue ...
"Aaaaaggggghhhhh!" The red-hot poker was suddenly in her, pistoning between her thighs and on up into her open cunt so that the smooth moist walls inside seemed to be burning in raging flames and her whole lower body felt about to split apart. Tears gushed down her cheeks and she began to sob hysterically. The room began again to spin and tumble and, mercifully, she lost consciousness.
* * *
It seemed hours later when Jessica came to. She wasn't sure how long it had been, but the night was still outside at least. She was aware that her breasts were being stroked and that there was a great hot weight of flesh along her back. She discovered that she was lying on her side on a leather sofa, completely naked. The surroundings seemed unfamiliar, she had forgotten her own entry a short while ago. Her head ached and, more noticeably, her vagina throbbed with a painfulness that seemed to radiate throughout her whole torso. It felt as if a solid wedge of something was inside her, but there was nothing. Gradually her memory returned; without moving she lowered her eyes to the alien hand that openly caressed her breasts. It had actually happened ... she wasn't a virgin any longer. She'd lost it, and quite completely, judging from the aching between her legs. It didn't seem to matter now. All that fear she had had was just in her mind. Except that it would have been much better with Phillip; she regretted now having rebuffed him. She spoke, not particularly to anyone, as if Marty Felder didn't exist.
"How about something to drink?"
The hot hand slipped down over her belly and the fingers traced a line over the curve of her girlish hip to rest on the smooth naked flesh of her buttocks. There was a grunting heaving movement accompanied by pressure on her firm buttocks-cheek. Felder lifted himself from behind her.
"Sure, baby. You deserve a drink after the performance you gave."
He came into view between her feet. She watched with revulsion as his thick flaccid cock dangled from the clump of hair beneath his paunchy belly. It was wet and sticky, and a thin trail of semen broke away as he moved from her. It seemed impossible now, but it was true enough ... this man had just fucked her ... yes, that was the word ... fucked her, used her like some common whore. God, it was too much to believe.
"How about a beer? I've got some cold ones here in the cooler."
"Anything. Just make it quick."
He handed her a glass mug of chilled beer and she quickly gulped it down. He climbed over her and she lay perfectly still, offering no resistance. He lay down behind her again, his body tight against her backside. She tried to ignore him, as if somehow by not having to face his hot presence, he would vanish. She'd never felt lower in her life; it was as if she had sunk into some bottomless pool of depravation and shame. She finished the last of the beer; it offered some little solace as the alcohol seemed to clear the cobwebs left from the hashish from her brain. She felt his body snuggle closer; he had a big, hard erection. She could feel it poking into the cleavage of her naked buttocks from behind, its bulbous head prodded between the firm, softly yielding cheeks of her youthful ass.
"I've never had a virgin before. Didn't know how much I was missing," he said slyly, a sinister grinning smirk on his sweaty face.
"And what makes you think you've had one now."
"Wow, baby, you've got to be kidding! Right up till you went under, you were like a wild woman." He spat out the words with gleeful enjoyment, obviously relishing the memory of his vicious sadistic assault.
She didn't say anything. She simply lay there, her mind almost blank, broken only once in awhile by the flickering memories of her nights with Phillip, the times they had come so close. She had refused her lover so many times ... and now this!
"I think I'd better go, Mr. Felder."
She felt his answer, his pulsing rod of flesh pressing harder against her buttocks as he slipped his fingers around her waist and tightened her against him, pressing his loins hard against the fleshy globes of her well ripened young ass cheeks. "You don't have to leave yet, honey. There's lots of night left."
His body pressed very close to her and his lips took a gentle nibble from the warm nape of her neck to the curve of her shoulder. She lay still, uncooperative, but with no strength or will left to resist. She felt his hand ooze between her thighs where her buttocks joined them; it no longer shocked her or revolted her to have him exploring her nakedness this way; there was simply no feeling at all.
His fingers caressed the lips of her fragrant young pussy and finally entered and stroked the moist tender walls of the gently throbbing passage, now ravaged of its innocence. Her insides contracted involuntarily; she supposed you couldn't help getting some enjoyment out of it even if the man was as repugnant to her as this one. His rigid penis oozed between her thighs after his fingers and poked and prodded for the opening in her ravished pelvis.
"Not again, no ... I'm sore there. Please, let me go home now!"
"Now, now, baby you wouldn't want me to have to get rough, now would you?" He smiled as he spoke, but his evil smirk belied his feeble attempt at pretending a trace of warmth in his cold being.
Her mind froze and she gritted her teeth in a spasm of anger and fear. She knew she'd be no match for his strength and weight, and she doubted anyone would hear her way up here on top of this building. And in New York, no one would come to her aid even if they did hear.
Now the thick knob of his cock had found the moist little slit of vaginal flesh again. She groaned painfully as it pressed the soft, hair-fringed lips apart and moved between the bruised tender walls of her cunt. He ignored her discomfort and pushed harder into her, sinking the whole thick, turgid length of his prick once more in her tight, already once ravaged young pussy.
"Oooooh God, please, you're hurting me!"
But Felder seemed to lose himself in a frenzy of wanton passion as the tight moist walls of her vaginal sheath closed like a soft wet hand around the heavily pulsating shaft of his aching cock. Suddenly his breath came up from his belly in raking gasps and he skewered her furiously with his hardening prick, burrowing completely into her so that she cried out in agony. But he held her securely, with one hand curving around each hip so that his strong fingers bit into the firm, elastic flesh of her abdomen. He moved into her like a series of crashing waves, each larger and harder. She gasped and squirmed, caught like a stuck pig on the end of a lance. His thighs were hairy and bristly along the sensitive under sides of her naked behind. He pummeled into her with great force, seeming to fill the whole of her knotted belly, all the way up to her heavily quaking breasts. Sometimes he hurt her even more with a sudden sharp point of excruciating pain as he jerked his heavy loins more powerfully upwards and battered her tender inner cunt walls with the swollen, throbbing head of his immense cock. At other moments it seemed as if he was exploding like gunpowder deep inside her, spreading wide and vulnerable parts of her anatomy that had always been hidden before.
Behind her on the leather sofa he was grunting like a raving madman, tossing and twisting and moaning as he battered his heavy, lust-hardened cock up deeper into her tiny cringing pussy, grinding his hair-covered pelvis hard against the firm adolescent-like cheeks of her softly giving ass cheeks.
"Goddamn!" she heard him gasp, and his fingers dug deeper into her belly, making her squeal with fresh pain. She felt an extra pressure against her hips and his fingers began to pull and guide her until she was moving onto her knees, his swollen prick still firmly imbedded in the moist tightness of her cunt. He tugged and yanked until she reluctantly moved with his guiding effort, although this degrading position made her feel horribly debased and subjugated, like some lowly servant girl stripped and bent over for her master's amusement. She suddenly knew what a prostitute must feel, just another piece of flesh at some man's twisted whim, nothing more than a lewd receptacle for his passion driven sperm.
Now he slithered up closer behind her and between her wide-spread thighs, pushing them apart even more with his knees as he squirmed his prick right up, deeper, up to the very hilt in her wetly constrictive young cunt. Now that she was spread out so helpless and defenseless this way, he seemed to invade her even deeper with his cock, splitting her tortured body in half, forcing agonizing gasp after gasp from her futilely pleading lips.
"Oooohhhh, please ... please, you're hurting me!" she cried.
Her back began to ache from the constant pressure of his hands around her waist, bending her down humiliatingly so mat her naked young buttocks soared upward toward his face. She felt totally naked and abused, a filthy, wanton slut good only for this horrid animal's pleasures. Her loins tingled and contracted, a thousand red-hot points brushing against one another, sending out millions of shivering chills through her body from the quivering nucleus of her cock-filled young pussy.
His flesh buffeted her ass with steady bruising force; every pounding thrust was punctuated with a gasping whine from the man's throat. Beads of sweat slung from his naked torso and splattered on me young blonde's bare flesh, soaking her with his perspiration as he fucked viciously into her again and again, each and every vicious grind burrowing his cock deep in her ravaged young belly. She suddenly thought, God, what if he gets me pregnant! But now she was unable to voice any protest, her feeble powers of resistance drowned by the rising tide of wicked passion that his deep, skewering thrusts were building in her now almost traitorously accepting loins. His rhythmic thrusting continued, bringing a low muffled cry from her parched throat with every painful inward thrust. He seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, probing deeper and deeper up into her body toward her very throat. Her breasts heaved and swayed beneath her as she suddenly discovered her naked body involuntarily writhing and twisting on the end of his heavily impaling prick, swaying in time with his deep, punishing thrusts, grinding me thin, hair-lined lips of her now wetly clasping young vagina back against his pelvis as she felt the lust-distended head of his cock far up in her wide-stretched insides.
She was incredibly sore but afire with a great building pressure, a liquid screaming pressure deep in her loins that ached to be set free. She couldn't think of anything but the agonizingly sweet buildup inside her; as much as she hated the thought of what this man was doing to her, of the way he was using her like some kind of lewd, unthinking sexual toy, it was happening. Somehow she'd never thought it would really happen this way to her. The buildup grew into a great, ever expanding bubble which was swelling to enormous size inside her. She screamed loudly, and screamed again, loud and shrill, and the stretched bubble burst and it seemed like hot blood rushing from her loins in a wild liquid torrent, hot and fluid and gushing, and she screamed again with the tears of fright and ecstasy and shuddering relief running in streams down her cheeks.
" Ooooohhhhh ... yes, yes ... oooohhhhh," she whined.
She began to calm a little, though she was still trembling all over and her stomach was quaking as if she'd just been beaten within an inch of her life ... and still he was stuffing his thick penis up into her wet sperm-inundated cunt with unrelenting fury, wheezing between his teeth and practically hurling her onto the floor with every powerful forward thrust. Now the pain was returning, the pain this monster had successfully masked with a flood of wantonness as he skillfully manipulated her, wringing a torrent of orgasmic ecstasy from her young, inexperienced body. It only hurt now, and even worse than before. Her vagina felt as if it had been sliced with a knife in a dozen places. She gritted her teeth, wondering how long she could stand it, and then she heard him muttering, cursing under his quickening breath.
"Jesus, baby, your cunt's so tight! So Goddamn hot and tight!" And his muttering grew into a steady babble of moaning, groaning agony, rose to a gasping howl and exploded into an agonized cry. She felt nothing in her tautly stretched vagina except that his thrust slowed to a great solid, grinding heave ... and then it happened. She jerked reflexively as she felt the naked, heaving man empty his hotly, seething load deep up inside her helplessly contracting belly, filling her whole insides with his dangerous life-giving sperm. Quick flashes of what might be happening raced through her numbed brain; of how she might be pregnant what it would be like to carry this monster's child. And then he fell forward on her with a tortured groan and his body was such a hulking mountain of weight that she collapsed under him, pinned flat against the sofa cushion, her firmly rounded young breasts smashed into the leather. He lay there on her a long times heaving and gasping.
"W-What if I g-get pregnant?" she asked finally in a near whisper.
"That's the least of your worries, honey," he laughed, his breathing back to normal now. "I've had a vasectomy ... years ago. So don't go getting any ideas. I've got a letter from the Doc to prove I'm as sterile as a surgeon's glove."
A few minutes passed, then she complained of the crushing bulk on top of her tiny young form, and he rolled off and walked to the door of the terrace. She wiped the sticky trail of his lewdly shining semen from her thighs with the sleeve of his crumpled shirt when he wasn't looking.
She began to pick up her scattered clothes, searching here and there under the furniture. He sat back down on the edge of the sofa, looking even paunchier and flabbier than before now somehow, his limp penis dangling in a flaccid knob from beneath the fleshy roll of his belly.
"I'd like to go home now," Jessica said quietly. She didn't even want to talk of the job he had for her now; all she wanted was the quiet sanctuary of her own room. Away from people, away from this man.
"You'll go when I say so," he said nastily. "And not a minute before."
Jessica stood there gaping at him, making no attempt now to hide her youthful nakedness, her hands casually on her hips. Her firm ripe breasts stood out defiantly, the tiny pink nipples still hard and crinkly from his vicious ravishment. Surely he couldn't mean it! What was there left for him to do to her? There was nothing left!
Ignoring his threat, she stepped into her panties, gingerly lifting her legs as bolts of pain rippled through her thighs.
"Put those panties back where you found them!" he barked. "I'm not ready to go yet."
"I'll take a cab. You needn't bother, Mr. Felder," she said bitterly.
"Take off those Goddamn panties!"
She couldn't believe it! She had been stripped like a servant girl in the market place, screwed half to death like a whore by this fat, vile man, paraded naked before his lustful eyes, fucked and filled almost to bursting with his horrible sperm until her whole body ached. And he still wanted more of her!
Chapter 5
Phillip glanced around furtively as he stepped from the cab at Valerie Dodge's riverside address, then laughed at his needless cautiousness. Hell, there was no sense acting like some super-spy outrunning the KGB; after all, there wasn't a chance in the world of Jessica being within miles of this place. He had not seen her now for several days, something of a rarity in itself, but the odds were rather slim she'd be strolling about in this neighborhood at ten o'clock in the evening. Or in any neighborhood in New York, if she had any brains at all.
He showed the smartly-uniformed doorman his invitation, with his name neatly inked across it in flowing blue-black script, and was directed, with a courteous little bow, to the second battery of elevators, the ones marked "17-30," and told he was okayed for admittance to the twenty-fourth floor condominium the William Brantley Dodge's called home. He chuckled to himself as he checked his tie and collar in the elevator mirror-Christ, a two-bit artist like himself invited to a party at W. B. Dodge's apartment! Hobnobbing with the joint rulers of the country's biggest and most successful model and network packaging outfit, both of them millionaires a few times over. And the incredible way it all came about-hell, that was a story in itself!
* * *
It was only last week, though now it seemed months ago as Phillip recalled me events that led up to this invitation. Jessica had been in another of her moods, he remembered; and like always, she chose not to explain, just to keep it all bottled up in her lovely little self. It was the day after she was supposed to meet some agency creative director for an after-hours interview. She hadn't said much about it, just that it was less than successful, and, knowing Jessica's temper, Phillip had simply left it at that, though he was far from happy about these unusual job interviews she seemed to be constantly drawn into. Not that he would ever have suspected Jessica of any wrong- doing-Christ, she just wasn't the type for that. But those ad agency smoothies could be pretty persuasive, just the same.
Anyway, they'd argued about it for a few minutes, tossed the usual harsh words back and forth, then, like always, kissed and forgot the whole thing and headed through the evening chill for the subway ride to the W. B. Dodge Company, the source of most of network television's commercials and the "think-tank" for more award-winning television specials than anyone could count.
There wasn't any particular reason for doing it, but this days just this once, they varied their usual job-hunting procedure and Phillip accompanied his girlfriend inside for the interview, waiting as unobtrusively as possible in a lobby filled with eager young models and would-be actresses, all toting their shop-worn portfolio cases loaded with stills and press-releases and anything else they could pile together in hopes of impressing Bill or Valerie Dodge, the king and queen, without dispute, of the W. B. Dodge empire, a sprawling kingdom that covered five floors here in their mid-town location, and another couple of thousand square feet of studio space down near the Village.
Phillip had made no effort to make his presence known; on the contrary, he'd attempted most diligently to stay out of sight, even to the point of taking a seat opposite Jessica when they entered, knowing only too well how agency receptionists felt about friends accompanying the girls when the agency announced its infrequent hiring sessions, or 'cattle calls" as they were known in the trade. But anonymity was just not to be his this afternoon.
Valerie Dodge nodded ever-so-slightly when she passed through the reception area the first time. Phillip had not the faintest notion who she was, though he suspected she was indeed the empress herself when the room suddenly quieted and a couple of dozen skirts were quickly adjusted, some going up and others going down. And when the former television actress turned model-agency executive had made her exit, one of the young hopefuls nearest Phillip made the identification certain.
"That was her! Valerie Dodge! Isn't she gorgeous, just like in all her films!" the young girl had shrieked, and Phillip had agreed, indeed, Valerie Dodge was a beautiful woman, blessed with genetic good looks and enough money to sustain them with daily trips to the plushest of Manhattan's glittering salons. She was tall, he guessed about five-nine that afternoon, and her Paris-styled auburn hair accented the jet-set beauties of her elegantly beautiful face. And that body of hers was in a category by itself! Her breasts were huge and full, but deliciously proud and firm, without a trace of sag to detract from her glamorous profile. He wondered even then, from that fleeting glimpse, how this magnificent celebrity would look without those Saks originals ... in fact, without anything at all, just her fabled body stretched nude across a king-sized bed. Phillip remembered now that he'd quickly crossed that silly daydream from his thoughts. If only he had known what the future held for him!
He had been reading a terribly outdated copy of Women's Wear Daily, just to have something to occupy his mind, when he suddenly realized that the displaced voice he'd heard was talking to him. "You must be Phillip Wright?" it said.
He looked up, startled, from his paper. It was Valerie Dodge, standing right by his shoulder. He'd failed to notice her reenter the reception room. "Right ... but how did you know that?" he asked, manfully aware that the swarm of delicious young lovelies had hushed their nervous buzzing and was intently focused on him as he courteously rose quickly to his feet.
"It's not magic, really, love," she purred, Jessica was just mentioning you to my husband when I went in for a file." She paused and glanced him over, a quick cursory appraisal, but one obvious enough to gain the young man's attention. "Would you like to come in to my office a moment?"
Phillip hesitated ... not from disinterest, but disbelief. Valerie Dodge requesting him to enter her office! "Of course! I mean ... yes, certainly." He tried to conceal his surprise and excitement, leaving the roomful of whispering girls to guess his true identity, to determine among themselves if he was, yes indeed, Phillip Wright, world-famous movie producer, or Phillip Wright, noted actor, or ...
"Have a seat, Phillip," offered Valerie Dodge when they'd both entered her private office suite and she had closed the heavy door behind them. Phillip waited graciously until his hostess had seated herself behind the single inch-thick glass pane that served her as a desk. He sank comfortably into a thickly padded leather armchair that seemed to envelop him in a womb of softness and aromatic cowhide.
"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see you?"
He nodded, "That's for sure. I usually have to try a dozen times just to see one of the paid flunkies. It comes as a bit of a shock to be personally invited into a place like this." He made a sweep of his hand, indicating the expansive layout of the older woman's office and separate sitting-room all furnished with the h and-picked choicest of the Manhattan decorators' offering, the walls adorned with stills and promotional posters from some of her earlier television and motion picture successes.
"Don't let it threaten you," she laughed, a real smile on her lips now for the first time since she'd first spoken. It was truly becoming on her, adding an even greater depth to the already-fathomless beauty and glamour this woman possessed. "It's my real home. This is where I really live," she confessed. "The apartment is just for changing clothes and entertaining. I feel much more at ease here than anywhere else."
"Uh, yes ... it is really nice. And I see you have gardens outside, too," Phillip said somewhat nervously, grasping awkwardly for something meaningful to say, but not really succeeding.
"Yes, it's another little private hideaway of mine. I guess I am somewhat of a nut about privacy, but those years in front of the camera had to have some effect on me, I suppose." She stopped talking, staring straight at her handsome young visitor as if waiting for him to speak, but the growing lump in his throat blocked whatever words he might have managed. "Oh, how thoughtless of me," she suddenly gushed, "let me fix you a drink. You must be absolutely dying of thirst after sitting out there in that office so long." She Jumped up from her swivel chair and hurriedly crossed the room. Phillip was suddenly reminded of a television show from his early youth, and the graceful entrances another famous star made at the opening of each show, her gowns always trailing regally as she swept into the room and onto the screens of those pioneering days of television.
"What will it be? Scotch okay?"
"Sure, that's fine," he answered. And for the moment, he couldn't for the life of him remember if he drank scotch or not.
Valerie vanished through the open doorway into the adjoining suite; from across the second room Philip heard the tinkling of glasses and the bubbling of fine liquor being poured.
"You take water, Phillip?" came the shouted voice. He replied negatively, reasoning, quite prophetically, it turned out, that he could use a stiff drink about right now. For a few moments, there was no sound at all, then the soft closing of a door, perhaps a cupboard or closet, a rustle of something he couldn't put his finger on, then the sound of softly padding steps as Valerie Dodge, adored and coveted by countless thousands of dissatisfied married men, returned to her young visitor. Only the statuesque redhead did not actually return; Phillip sensed, rather than saw, her standing in the doorway ... he looked up.
"Mrs. Dodge!" he gasped, bolting to his feet and jarring the cocktail table before him so hard that it tumbled onto the carpet, dumping an empty ashtray and a few magazines onto the floor.
"Like my outfit, love?" she purred, holding her arms away from her body, a drink in each hand. She was wearing a light, baby-blue gown that could have been made of Saran-wrap, and it was more man obvious she had removed her bra and panties while out of the room fixing the drinks. Her shoes were still on, along with her white garter belt and dark stockings. His eyes instantly locked on the deep, inviting cleft between her enormous, bulging breasts. Her nipples, crinkly and brownish, poked against the sheer line of gauze-like fabric that offered no more concealment than a sheet of clear glass, little peaks of tingling flesh already aroused and hardened as he looked upon them.
Phillip glanced nervously around, checking the door instinctively.
'Oh, you needn't worry about anyone coming in. My penchant for privacy is a legend around here. Nobody would dare enter this office without calling first ... and besides," she added with a twinkling grin, "it locks automatically when you shut it."
"Jesus, you're beautiful!" Phillip said, without a trace of nervousness or awkwardness now. Somehow it all seemed right ... her being there nearly naked, his being alone with her. It was as if at that very instant in time, something snapped within him, some little switch somewhere deep in his brain suddenly closed. And he was suddenly feeling the beginning of a glowing power and self-confidence he'd never even hoped for before. Even at that moment, he knew what was expected of him, knew that making love to this fantastically desirable woman was going to change him and that perhaps nothing less than a real woman like this would ever satisfy him again.
Valerie lowered her eyes for a moment to the bulge in his trousers; his cock was out of position in his shorts, and that made the obvious swelling even more apparent. His erection stood out like a tree limb, so tight against the fabric of his pants that he was afraid it might just rip through and come bursting out like an animal's penis might when confronted with a female so obviously in heat and eager for excitement. She grinned at the sight of it. "You seem to like me, lover," she said softly, a glistening sparkle in her eyes. "It's pretty obvious."
"That's pretty observant of you," he laughed, even surer of himself now. "Not everyone would have noticed."
"How could I help it, darling. Now it's getting even more obvious ..." She paused dramatically and stared for a full beat at the still growing bulge in his crotch. "... You're quite a big man."
"C'mon ... the weather's nicer in here, stud," she said seductively.
Phillip followed her without an instant's hesitation, feeling more and more confident of his masculinity with every step toward this voluptuous woman's lair. She was well ahead of him, and when he entered the inner room, she was already sitting on the edge of her bed. And what a bed! It was round, at least seven feet across, and covered with a blaze-red silk cover with the name Valerie spelled out in huge script letters that ran from one side to the other. He glanced down at the thin hair-lined lips of her vagina clearly visible now between her slightly parted legs. He didn't blush at the sight of her womanly treasures like he might have in the past; her pleased smile was invitation enough, but she opened her legs a bit more, a teasing grin on her lips as he caught a glimpse of the faintest dewdrop of her own excitement just beginning to glisten on the soft pink furrows of her narrow cuntal slit. She handed him his drink and it seemed to go down in one swallow, warming his body along its path, adding to the growing intense heat he was already feeling for this beautiful woman far down in his loins.
He stood over her silently, reverently, like a pilgrim come to do homage to a saint, as she loosed the clasp that held the robe together just above the swelling mounds of her luscious breasts. She pulled the two halves of the flimsy garment apart, exposing the large full mounds, the ripe dark nipples staring at him wetly. She had moistened them with saliva from her tongue before he entered, adding magically to the already maddening allure of this gorgeous female.
"I can't believe how beautiful you are," he muttered innocently, "I knew movie stars were nice looking, but I never expected anything like ... like this!" He stared mutely at her nakedness, still holding the empty glass in his hand. He could see the tell-tale glint of growing passion in her eyes and it was all he could do to hold back the urge to drop to his knees at her feet and bury his face and lips in the warm moist delicacy of that incredibly tantalizing furrow between her smooth supple thighs that seemed to beckon him, call to him with a siren's song all its own. But he managed to contain himself, somehow aware now that this was no "quickie," one just didn't jump on the famous Valerie Dodge and pump it to her like a common whore. She wanted a lover, not an over-eager punk kid who'd leave her hot and horny and unsatisfied. He could tell already that the agonizing wait would bring its own reward.
"You've got a lot to offer yourself," she smiled up at him, "enough to get me interested, and I'm not that excitable."
'I've never had any complaints," he said with a boyish grin.
Valerie parted her thighs a little more, flexing the sinewy lengths of her ripely formed legs like a lioness might before a kill. "I'll bet you don't, young man," she purred. And with that, she leaned back seductively onto her elbows, arching herself backward invitingly with a tempting smile that made her offering undeniable.
Phillip leaned over and kissed her, lightly at first, on the lips, pretending that this sort of chance encounter with a glamorous screen star and celebrity was just run-of-the-mill with him.
She held him off for a moment, teasingly, then reached up, curled her arms around and pulled him down onto her naked warmth. One of his legs was between her opened thighs; he shivered at the feel of her incredible supple softness as her body seemed glued against his. She moved her thigh up against his crotch as he ground his lips harshly into her, bringing his cock into painfully erect hardness. He could feel the wetness of his seminal fluid seeping from the gland on me rapidly hardening tip. It smeared against his leg inside his pants until he was certain Valerie could feel the sticky wetness through the fabric. She continued her practiced massaging with a skillful thoroughness that brought his aching lustfulness to a crescendo pitch; he was certain the head of his throbbing prick would explode at any second. It was jerking now as though he would cum at the least extra pressure; it was definite now, he could feel the pressure building deep in his balls below. He thrust his tongue deep in her mouth as she sucked gently tenderly, on it, nibbling with tiny sharp nips of her teeth that sent chills racing the length of his spine. He pulled his head away to escape the warm teasing sensation and placed his cheeks against her hair, pausing to think guiltily of how horrified and shocked Jessica would be if she knew what was happening right here in the same office.
And then he thought, "Valerie, what about my girl? What if she can't find me and starts asking questions?"
Valerie Dodge's hand was on the handsome young man's inner thigh, brushing lightly, appraisingly, over the hardened bulge along the inside of his leg, admiring the long, thick ridge that poked eagerly against the material. "You can stop worrying. The girl on the desk will just tell her you are with Mrs. Dodge for an interview. You are an artist, aren't you?"
"Yes, but ..."
"But nothing. Anyway, when we're ... uh, finished, shall we say, with pleasure, we'll find time to talk business. Dodge always needs new artists. Especially those so ..." her hand stroked the throbbing rigid length of his cock still growing harder inside his pants, "... well equipped."
They seemed frozen there for a long moment, Phillip half-leaning, half-crouching over the voluptuously naked wife of William B. Dodge, while the poor bastard was only an office or two away!
"Get your clothes off, honey," she whispered hoarsely, visibly excited now as she quivered beneath him, "I'll teach you some tricks that little teeny-bopper girlfriend of yours never dreamed of." Her thighs were grinding against his loins heatedly.
"You do want to fuck me, don't you Phillip?" Her voice was strained and husky now.
"Jesus Christ, yes!" he nearly shouted.
"Then let's hear you say it, baby," she cooed.
"Yes ... I want to fuck you!"
"Is that all? Just fuck me ... just an ordinary ol' fuck?"
"No, better man any you've ever had! Harder and deeper than you've ever had it!" Phillip was worked up to me bursting point, whipped into a panting, lusting rage by the naked woman's lewd urgings.
"God, baby, get naked and get in me! Hurry, I'm dying!" she moaned, pushing him away in her haste.
He jumped from the bed and began desperately stripping himself to join the already nakedly writhing woman so anxiously waiting for him on the silk covers, her smooth, milk-white curves laid bare before him like a feast. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness as he dropped his pants and undershorts together and stood over her still lying on the round bed with his cock jutting out in full naked erection from his hard muscular pelvis, a long, thick length of throbbing flesh and blood dangling before the unclothed married woman below. She lifted her body slightly and pulled off the last of the sheer robe that lay uselessly at her sides, leaving just her white garter belt and dark stockings, an incredible frame for the tantalizing temptation of her warm, moist furrow, her pussy-lips palpitating now with unbridled lust and wanton excitement. She lay back on the enormous bed and looked up at him standing stark nude over her; her eyes glued to the throbbing, blood-filled head of his young, eager cock standing out in the air. She watched the pulsing, lust-distended head a moment, then managed a hoarse, anguished plea, "Oh, get that marvelous hunk of meat in me, lover! I'm dying, baby, dying! Goddamn, get it deep inside me and screw me good, please! Jesus, get it in my cunt and fuck me before I burn up!"
He lay down on the bed beside her, dragging her over to him with the youthful strength of his muscular arms. He moved one hand down to the smoothness of her buttocks and cupped them. They were beautifully shaped and sinewy as he had expected them to be. Her body was warm and soft against him and she raised her face to his, locking her lips tightly to his as her hand searched down between them for the hardness of his penis. He gasped aloud this time at the coolness of her fingers around his throbbing rigidity. He pressed his head forward and kissed her back, hot and moist kisses that smothered her with his intense youthful passion. Her odor was maddening, a rich, exotic perfume that he'd never smelled before; the scent was appropriate for His fantastically passionate woman, a kind of tantalizing muskiness that reeked of erotic abandonment and perversions. Her lips were soft and gave before the harsh pressure of his with a warm yielding rubberiness that sent electric chills racing throughout his naked sinewy body. She crushed the full length of her body against his and ground her pelvis tightly into him before suddenly twisting her body in a frenzied burst of lustful passion, and pulling his body onto her full nakedness, opening her legs wide to take him between them; his cock probed up between her silken thighs, pressed eagerly against the puffed fleshy lips of her moist, warm pussy.
"Oh, please, fuck me, darting ... I can't stand it! Please!"
* * *
William Dodge, having glanced twice at his platinum Rolex watch, excused himself from his lovely young office visitor, and stepped from the room through a door marked Private. Jessica Richards, cut off somewhat abruptly, though politely, in mid-sentence, just as she was describing the most recent modeling assignment she had worked on, sat rather puzzled, though not really very concerned. She knew that big corporate heads like William Dodge were constantly being interrupted and called away to meetings and such, and that abrupt disappearances like this were probably routine for a man like him. He'd been looking at his watch ever since his wife, Valerie, came in for a hurried, whispered chat a while before; whatever she had to tell him seemed to interest him greatly. She could actually see a rush of color and excitement come to his face as his attractive wife whispered her news in her husband's ear. Mrs. Dodge apologized profusely for the rude interruption and excused herself.
Jessica folded her hands and waited patiently, being careful not to become overly anxious, lest a tiny mist of perspiration add that glossy cheapness to her spotless complexion. No, she wanted everything right this time, no matter how long it took. Of course, she did worry about poor Phillip, waiting alone in that reception room, with nothing to read but fashion magazines. Oh well, it was his idea to come along ...
Bill Dodge stepped into the darkened ex-storage room adjoining his office and the homier half of Valerie's little hideaway. He flicked on the master wall switch at his left, after first being certain that the door was closed and locked behind him. An impressive array of lights came up immediately, rather like the control panel of a 707. But there was a lot more excitement to be gained right here than in the captain's seat of a big jetliner.
He checked that all the line voltages were in order, then switched on camera "A." Suddenly an enormous tape reel on the room's counter surface began to turn, taking up the slack and then, unreeling inch after inch of wide videotape from the opposite fully-loaded reel. Satisfied that everything was working properly, Bill Dodge flicked on two images came into focus on the tiny screen. First, a confused kaleidoscope of run-on colors and fuzzy lines; then, the distinct forms of a man and woman writhing together like a couple of spawning salmon in the next room. The camera was positioned perfectly, no accident it was though. But rather, the result of careful planning and lighting design by one of the Dodge Agency's top electronics men, and a trusted one to boot. Every light in Valerie's room, every piece of furniture, was carefully laid-out to facilitate these tapings. All he ever needed was the eager nod from his over-sexed wife, indicating she'd found another hopeful for her boudoir workouts.
Goddamn it, that Valerie really knows what she's doing in bed!
Bill noticed a slight gnawing knot of jealousy as he watched his wife's passion contorted face and realized only too well that this was no act she was putting on. She just loved to be fucked, and made no attempt to cover it up. He leaned over and adjusted the color blend on the monitor set and settled back to watch this little episode; he wanted badly to open the office door and invite the young man's girlfriend in to watch her faithful lover in action with a real woman. But he thought better of it ... there was always time for that later. Right now was the time for his favorite avocation, watching his wife get it hard and fast from another man. Damn, how that bitch could lock her legs around a man's ass and fuck!
* * *
Valerie Dodge, even more excited by knowing her husband was watching this virile young man fuck her like a whore, crushed Phillip tight to her and ran her hands searchingly over his body, exploring eagerly the secret hollows of him. His cock was resting along the inside of her thigh, hard against the narrow hair-lined slit of her cunt. She arched up for a moment, levering them both off the bed with the strength of her back and, reaching under her buttocks with both hands, spread her soft, fleece lined vaginal lips slowly apart, giving his throbbing penis greater contact with the wet sensitive flesh as it lay the full length of the moist gently pulsing furrow. She relaxed, dropping her body back to the bed, his rigid member trapped between her hungrily clasping thighs.
He forced his hands between her shoulders and the mattress and ran them down the soft curves of her back and hips. He could feel the raised edges of her spine moving almost imperceptibly as she undulated her body up against him in a slow, teasing rhythm. The sinews of her muscles rippled lightly just under the tanned skin, giving away me powerful reserve of animal strength in her naked body. The tenseness of the cords in her thighs pressed against me outside of his hips. He wondered how they would grip around him later when he had sunk his aching hardness deep up inside her warm, yielding pussy.
"Oh, Philip, darling, you feel so good," she moaned, smashing her lips against him again and writhing the flatness of her belly close up to him. Her nails trailed across his back, leaving small reddish welts in their path. He pushed his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her ass in the palms of his hands and pulled her wetly, open loins up tighter against him. He moved up and down slowly, insinuating the hardness of his full length up and down the widespread slit, sensing it grow wider and wetter with every lewd, grinding probe of his massive cock. Her ass began a more desperate motion, rotating up against his loins until her legs, without warning, flared out wide on either side of his young virile body, her calves locking against the back of his thighs. Dulling him tighter into her.
"Yes, yes ... oh, fuck me now, now!" she hoarsely cried into his ear, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her pelvis grinding in a frantic wanton rhythm now.
He started to move but she beat him to it. Her hands came down between them and circled around his hot throbbing cock, parting the softness of her pubic hair with the tip and guiding it between the lips of her eagerly palpitating cunt. Phillip groaned above her as he felt her move it up and down between her legs, parting the silken curling fleece of her vaginal hair with the pulsating blood-engorged head of his prick. They grazed teasingly against the super-sensitive flesh, forcing it into even greater hardness until it ached excruciatingly from the agonizing pressure.
Phillip couldn't hold back another second and flicked his hips forward with a sudden cruel thrust mat drove his cock with a flesh-splitting crash into the hotly gaping mouth of her pussy. She gasped aloud at me impact of his virile, ravishing entry.
"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned beneath him as she could feel the warm elastic sheath of her own pussy close wetly over the young man's long, hard penis. It entered with a slight popping sound, almost as though she was a virgin being taken for the first time, except that with her it was easier and infinitely more enjoyable, because she could control the deliciously educated muscles of her vagina that way every time. And Phillip was no fool; already he was thinking of those other times, those times in the future when he'd get together again with this marvelous woman.
His long thick penis raced up into her warmly sucking cunt to the full depths of her eagerly quivering belly, warm and tight at first, aching the fun length of his rigid member and then easier as the wetness of the passage surrounded him, lubricating the way. Then suddenly, he hit bottom ...
"Aaaaggghhhh," the painfully writhing woman cried, as his balls slapped hard against the rounded cheeks of her ass. William Dodge's voluptuous wife screamed a low, animal-like scream beneath him, twisting momentarily to escape the sudden unexpected pain. But he thrust harder, screwing his pelvis tighter into her loins so there was no escape for her. She was skewered good and he lay for a moment to allow the pain of his sudden ravishing entry to subside, proud to be able to hurt her this way. Christ, he'd show her what a real fucking was like, hurt her like nobody ever had ... and she'd be powerless to hurt him in return. It was the same old story retold, woman helpless and subjugated in sex, helpless to hurt back, only able to be hurt. And to suffer through it all, possessed by the power of man.
* * *
Shit, he's better than I'd have guessed, Bill Dodge observed from the sanctuary of his hidden control room, watching the increasingly frantic action on his color television monitor. Yes, Valerie will get a kick out of this tape, that's for sure. And so will some of her friends, unless I've misjudged that sex-crazy bunch. Christ, I'll have to really throw the ol' meat to her tonight to keep up with this young fucker!
He kept thinking about that sweet little thing sitting so innocently and demurely in his office, just a few feet away ... thinking about how she'd look out there on that big bed. But not with this young stud ... with William Dodge, of course! But that was in the future, if at all. Time now to switch the tape unit to automatic and return to my lovely young guest. Mustn't keep her waiting too long.
* * *
Phillip ground his pelvis into the squirming flaccid flesh of the older woman beneath him as she strained back under him, arching her loins up at him, lifting them both a few inches off the silken coverlets from the furious strength of her upward thrusts. She moaned ceaselessly beneath his pounding body, opening and closing her legs around his hips as she worked up and down in a chanting rhythm of intercourse as old as the universe itself. Her mouth gaped open wide, her head flailing from side to side on the mattress again and again in wild ecstasy.
"It feels good, good, baby, so fucking good! Stick your finger in my asshole! Hurt me, lover, hurt me! Make me scream!"
He reached under her between her buttocks as he drove his cock rhythmically into the wetness of her cunt. He stretched the smoothly curved crevice of her ass wide, searching with the tip of his stiffened middle finger for the tight little hole of her anus.
And then he found it ... a small trickle of her own juices was running down the widespread crevice from where he could feel his hardened rod of lust-distended flesh slithering hotly into her. It moistened the tight puckered little hole, lubricating it slightly and he probed experimentally for a moment with the tip of his finger. He pushed hard, feeling the knotted little band of muscle give a little, and then suddenly the tight elastic nether ring gave way completely and his finger slid in up to the first knuckle. She jumped forward, almost crawling on her back to escape the sudden unexpected pain that seared through her rectum.
"Aaaaggghhhhh, yes, it hurts! It hurts!"
Phillip answered her cries with a deeper stab of his upraised finger, sinking it to the second joint.
"Yes, yes ... Ooooohhhhh, yes, hurt me! Hurt me!" she screamed, writhing ecstatically, impaled between me two ravishing fleshy spears of his cock and middle finger.
Seemingly oblivious to the anguished pain, he felt her suddenly begin screwing her buttocks back on his finger until it was sunk to me palm of his hand. He jiggled it inside, rotating it around in the fleshy depths of her tender rectum. He could feel through the thin wall of flesh separating her two passages me underside of his cock sliding in and out of her, and he began skewering her between them, maintaining the same rhythm for both as she groaned on under him. His nail caught the flesh momentarily in her asshole, scraping her painfully, and she jerked, but then caught up me rhythm again, opening her legs wide out over me bed to give him even greater freedom of entry to her ravished loins.
Phillip could feel his cock growing and expanding inside her until it felt as though it were going to burst from the exquisite pleasure and sperm building in his testicles as they slapped heavily against her buttocks below. It wouldn't be long, he hoped, he knew he couldn't hold it back forever. She had to cum soon.
He could tell she was near completion as she gripped him tight between her thighs, opening and closing them around his driving hips in time to his long, hard thrusts into her. She gurgled beneath him, the sound coming from somewhere deep within her throat as though she had no control over it. He knew she was near and he continued his merciless thrusting with all me strength in his well-toned youthful body.
"Ooooohhhhh, yes, fuck me, fuck me hard, baby! Hard! HARD!!" She punctuated her wanton plea with the pounding of her heels high up on his naked back. She had jackknifed her legs up tight, pressing her knees back hard into her breasts and offering him me full opening of her upraised crotch. Her eyes rolled uncontrollably in her head, her face contorted and straining for the final explosion so near.
"I'm cumming ..." Her mouth gaped wide in ecstatic abandon, almost disbelief. "Oh God, I'm cumming!"
She mumbled on incoherently until the sounds coming from her throat were a mass of jumbled, unintelligible syllables. She pulled back her Highs tighter until the whole of her wide-stretched vaginal slit was presented up to him to abuse and ravage as he willed. Her ankles locked high up over his shoulders, her crotch squirming beneath him in a wild uninhibited dance of abandoned ecstasy. Her mouth hung open wide, unseeing eyes glazed as they aimed blankly toward the ceiling.
And then ... "Aaaaaggghhhhh!" A banshee scream burst from her lips and filled the room with her ecstatic fulfillment, their two sweat-soaked, panting bodies slapping brutally together. Dodge's naked wife's nostrils flared wildly and she screwed herself up onto his thrusting cock and locked herself to him with all the strength of her thighs while her loins jerked spasmodically against his belly.
She held her breath for an interminable long time, then expelled it as though she'd been kicked in the stomach, collapsing limply down into the soft, yielding mattress. She lay still, except for the uncontrollable quivering of her pussy as her vaginal walls shivered out the last of her bone-wrenching orgasm, still locked wetly around Phillip's tortured prick, swollen now to an incredible hardness. He pushed deep into her and lay still. Inside her, it felt as big around as a man's forearm, shoved deliciously up into her very insides.
Only the last traces of anguished self-control kept him from continuing to screw into her. Christ, he'd never in his short life seen anything like this. Or felt anything like this, either! He throbbed the muscles of his cock deep in her belly, hoping to urge her back for more.
"Oh, honey, that was really nice," she purred, "I haven't been screwed like that in a helluva long time."
"Don't put it in the past tense," Phillip said proudly, "we're not finished yet."
"Jesus, you've really been holding back, haven't you?"
"Yeah, but I can't hold it much longer," he gasped. "My balls are about to blow up."
"Pull it out and roll over, sweetie," she smiled, "Mommy's gonna' give you a special treat for being such a good boy."
He pulled back, sliding his hardness out of the soft warmth of her pussy. It killed him to pull it out, he was so near to shooting out his painfully waiting cum in her belly that he didn't want to stop but he had to let her have her way. It would be best this time until he knew more about her, about what she wanted in her lovemaking. He had to admit that, while he'd had a fair share of women, his sexual experiences were pretty much the straight missionary-position stuff. Maybe he'd learn some things that would help with Jessica ... that is, if she ever stopped hanging on to that precious virginity of hers.
He reluctantly rolled from the softness of her body over onto his back, thin sticky trails of her orgasm following his cock across her lower thigh. He lay tense, with his cock pointed straight at the ceiling. Glancing, he looked to see it she was making any moves in that direction.
She turned on her side toward him and, reaching out with her hand, began stroking him, sliding the loose flesh up and down in a slow, magical rhythm that caused his ache to increase almost beyond endurance. Then she rose to her knees and hovered over him on all fours, her face a scant few inches from the throbbing moist head of his penis. She held it tightly between both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused his loins to undulate in time to her maddening pace.
Her head dropped slowly toward the hardness of him and suddenly her tongue flicked forward, me tip boring teasingly into the wetness of the tiny gland on the end. He sucked his breath in from the sudden unexpected contact. Chills rippled along his back, bonging a groan from his parched lips. She brought her mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the sensitive, lust-engorged knob in a moist, warm pressure. Her lips tightened like an elastic band around it just below the head, trapping it completely inside the warm wet cavern of her mouth as her tongue tormentingly flicked at the super-sensitive tip.
"God!" he groaned, lifting his head from the bed and staring down at her contorted face. The sight of his hard shaft of flesh sunk halfway between her pink, widely ovaled lips increased the sensation a thousand fold. It was still wet from the juices of her orgasm and glistened like the stump of a wet tree along the part she had not yet sucked up between her soft moist lips. She massaged the soft resilient skin of his sperm-laden testicles gently with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other as she began to suck rhythmically up and down. He could feel the softness of her tongue twirling maddeningly around it at the apex of the withdrawal, the tip flicking magically across the tiny opening of the gland on the end. He flexed his buttocks, his head still raised, watching the top of her head bobbing up and down below. The sight of her labors made it all the more exciting for him.
Valerie Dodge could feel his throbbing reaction and began to suck his long hard prick more voraciously, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood from beneath the surface of the loose skin. She shifted her position over his thigh without disengaging her mouth from his prick and kneeled on all fours between his open legs. She reached under his buttocks and cupped them in her palms, pulling his loins up tighter to her face. Her tongue swiped around and around the heavily throbbing head furiously until Phillip felt it nearing the bursting point as she took almost all of the rigid shaft deep into her throat. He was certain she would choke, but somehow she managed to relax the muscles in her tender throat passage, and his thickly-swollen prick eased down the soft channel easily as she continued the maddening sucking on and on.
Great swirls of heat were building deep in his balls as he watched her face working above his sweating loins. He could see tiny rivulets of sweat rolling in thin droplets from the side of her body as she bucked over him like a demon gone mad. The muscles of his stomach tightened until he thought they would snap from the pressure as he arched his back up completely off the bed, pushing his cock even deeper between the moistly ovaled ridges of her softly working lips.
He groaned over and over again, his lips working frantically and wild unintelligible garbled mumblings spitting from his painfully clenched teeth. Suddenly, he gasped. The moment was here and a low, gutteral sound started from somewhere deep in his chest as he felt the hot sticky sperm begin its mad headlong dash from the shelter of his balls and begin spewing in hot thin streams into her ravenously sucking mouth. Her cheeks expanded and hollowed fish-like as she greedily swallowed the warm flooding gushes to keep from choking. She went on sucking wildly as he emptied his white-hot sperm into the wetness of her mouth. His hands tangled cruelly in her hair, holding her head to the throbbing of his loins as he pushed his squirting prick all the way down to her tonsils. She coughed sporadically as she swallowed and gulped desperately to regain her breath. He moaned his last and grunted heavily in final and complete fulfillment. Slowly, his cock deflated in her mouth but she continued sucking, nibbling softly and carefully, drawing every last drop of the warm sticky sperm from his bruised and battered cock. And it was over ...
* * *
Silently, the steel doors of the elevator opened and Phillip Wright stepped out into the marble-clad corridor. His heels clicked loudly on the stone floor as he walked toward the Dodge apartment, one of only two on the entire huge floor.
Yes, it was a strange series of circumstances allright ... Valerie, poised as usual, had dressed and hurried out into the reception room that day ahead of him, apologizing to Jessica profusely for keeping "your handsome man," explaining that she had some work in mind for him. Jessica, naturally, was overjoyed, so much so, in fact, that she never noticed the somewhat sheepish Cheshire-cat grin on his face when he returned a few minutes later. And apparently Valerie Dodge was serious about the work, for a day later she called with an offer of a short-term assignment, sort of a trial run, you might say. And with an invitation to this party.
He'd thought of telling Jessica, but then, since he hadn't actually seen her in a few days, it hardly seemed worth the bother. She'd understand, probably, knowing it was only for business, even though it wasn't the sort of thing she'd ever dream of. Phillip half-laughed to himself as he thought of what Jessica's reaction would be to the mere mention of what had happened the other day in Valerie's office. Jesus, she'd go out of her mind!
"Phillip, darling! Come in, come in!" Valerie swished from the suddenly open door and hustled him into the immense living room ... and into the most important night of his life.
Chapter 6
Jessica Wright waited nervously for the doorman to open her door as she sat, somewhat afraid, in the enormous Mercedes-Benz limousine that had brought her to this fashionable riverside high-rise. The uniformed employee was fast on his feet for an old man, or at least he was when he recognized the car. She politely thanked the driver, a middle-aged black who only nodded in reply, and lifted the hem of her silvery gown, her arm firmly but gently held by the doorman, as she made her way to the building entrance.
William Dodge had sent the car for her, just as he had promised on the telephone when he called day before yesterday. She had nearly refused his invitation at first, feeling it only fair to talk this over with Phillip first. But her aunt's phone had been out of order for almost a week now, and still no sign of a repairman from that marvelously efficient New York telephone company. She couldn't call him for an okay. And after all, didn't Mr. Dodge take special care to emphasize that Mrs. Dodge would be at the party too? What could be wrong with accepting his kind invitation? Surely, the contacts she could make at a party like this would be a great help in her modeling career, maybe even in Phillip's art practice.
Jessica was reluctant for another reason, too ... it was only a few short days since that horrible night at Marty Felder's. That nightmare was still indelibly etched in her mind, and there still remained the awful task of telling Phillip the truth about what went on in the Felder penthouse. She knew she had to tell him eventually--it wouldn't be fair to even think about marriage until she'd leveled with him. Maybe he wouldn't want her after he learned the truth ... some men couldn't live with the knowledge that their wives had done something as unspeakable as what she had been dragged into at Marty Felder's. But that was the gamble she'd have to take. If Phillip was indeed half the man she knew he was, he'd understand He'd forgive her and go on loving her just as though nothing had ever happened.
And for her part, Jessica knew now never to let herself be suckered into anything again, no matter what the odds. There could never be another Marty Felder in her life, for Jessica Richards the kid grew up that night. And no man would ever pull the wool over her eyes again. Not that she had to worry with Phillip--he wasn't the sort. Wild perhaps, like all artists are, in some way or another, but sweet and warm and gentle. Not like so many men she'd met since embarking on this career. Not like the Marty Felder's of this world.
Of course, there hadn't been any job offer forthcoming from that horrible Felder. All she could thank that filthy pervert for was the chance at an interview with William Dodge. That much he owed her, he reluctantly admitted, after a quarter-hour of non-stop tears when the heartless monster finally admitted that he really didn't have anything open for her at the moment. And it was that interview that led her to this party.
Jessica's heart quickened as she entered the plushly decorated lobby; she paused in front of one of the ceiling-high mirrors to check her hair. One of her classmates from modeling school had styled it for her, and the effect, she'd have to admit, was stunning. It was high in back, and trailed down over the sides of her head in a half-dozen little ringlets, each of them lightly frosted to add contrast to her honey-blonde luxuriant hair. The dress was a real extravagance, but one she hoped would be worth the investment. Her Aunt had lent her the money, but only after she heard where the party was being held. When the Dodge name and address was mentioned, she couldn't dig up the money fast enough. No niece of hers was going to William Dodge's home without a new dress, she had insisted, and Jessica, admittedly, had offered only the least of token resistance.
"Miss Richards?"
She turned, surprised at the sound of her name, It was Bill Dodge, elegant in an Italian jumpsuit creation that made him look like Mastroianni in an imported movie. "Oh, hello. I didn't expect to find you in the lobby," she said.
He laughed, and when he did the soft skin around his eyes furrowed into a hundred tiny wrinkles, like the eyes of a cowboy after years of squinting into the southwestern sun. He looked his age, fifty-three according to the magazines, but he was an elegantly-preserved fifty-three, to be sure. She liked that about him--he didn't try to look and act twenty-five, like so many men in the television and advertising game.
"Actually, I was just coming down to ask Anderson here if there had been any sign of you." He paused to look her over, appraising me young blonde's delightfully trim figure, barely concealed beneath the skin-tight second skin of her silver gown. "You're quite lovely, you know that?"
Jessica felt the color fill her face and she turned away; she was a model now, after all, and she should certainly be acclimated to comments on her looks by now. But still, coming from a man as well-known and important as William Dodge, it was quite a compliment indeed. "Thank you, Mr. Dodge," she replied demurely, averting her eyes from his openly appraising stare.
"Well, now that you're here, let's go back upstairs and join the others. There's quite a crowd up there, and I'm afraid the party's gone on without us."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry we were late. But it wasn't your driver's fault," she explained as they entered the elevator. "You see, we were caught in this immense traffic jam on Riverside Drive. There was a big wreck right in that sharpest curve and we couldn't do anything but wait it out."
"Now, now, don't be concerned," he said with a paternal air, "No harm done. I do hope you enjoy the party. Oh, by the way, you did know that Wright gentleman was here, didn't you?"
"Wright? You mean Phillip Wright?" she asked, trying to mask her utter and total amazement and surprise.
"Yes, that young man you were with in my office the other day. The one my wife Valerie invited in for an interview. Commercial artist, I believe."
Jessica struggled hard and fast to compose herself before she spoke ... Phillip, what can I say to him! He all never understand!
"Uh, actually, I didn't know he was coming," she managed to mutter after a long few seconds, "but I haven't seen him lately anyway. Does he know I'm to be here?"
"No, I don't think so. Valerie just happened to mention it to me. I haven't even been introduced myself yet. Would you prefer not to see him?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that! It's just ... I'd like to talk to him alone, you understand?"
"Of course, of course," the older man smiled, "Don't let it worry that pretty little head of yours. Besides, it's so dark, I doubt he'd recognize you."
Jessica shrugged off that last remark; there was enough rolling around in her mind already to keep her confused for a lifetime. She took a deep breath and counted slowly backwards from ten, an old trick they'd taught her in modeling classes to help you compose yourself. And then they reached the Dodge's floor; she could hear the sounds of the party when the doors silently opened. Oh well, she thought, here goes!
Chapter 7
Bill Dodge placed his hand very properly in the small of the beautiful young blonde's back, just lightly enough to guide her through the double doorway and into the tiled entrance foyer. He took her light wrap and hung it in the formal-sized coat closet, along with what looked like a million expensive furs and cashmeres. She turned to look down the corridor toward the living room doorway, and Dodge was able to get a few seconds of uninterrupted, unabashed staring in before it was necessary to put back on his Mr. Nice Guy-smile. Christ, what a body! The ass on this lovely young chick he just couldn't believe! Two nice ripe handfuls, just aching to be squeezed like a couple of juicy melons, nearly bursting from her skin-tight dress. He could even see the lovely dimpled little crevice where the fabric dipped as it lovingly stretched across the glorious swell of her buttocks. Damn, his wife, Valerie, had certainly made the right move this time. Sometimes her choices were a bit strange, like that actor from California and his heroin-shooting wife, but not this time! This little honey was all right!
Of course, William Dodge hadn't always been quite so free-swinging and hip in his extra-marital sex life; he had Valerie to thank for the sudden new world she had introduced him to a few years back. There were two broken marriages behind each of them when they met in 1961 at the New York Art Director's Show, an annual exhibition of some of the best in advertising commercial art. Bill was there that year with several of his creative staff, riding high on the crest of agency popularity, having been just selected as the firm to package three network specials for NBC for the upcoming fall season, and Valerie Madison, after giving up her acting career, was then at the peak of her fame as the world's top model-agency chief, or procurer, as she liked to call herself for shock-value. Both of them at their zenith seemingly, career-wise, yet both were searching for something to fill the undeniable void in their respective lives. And after a few months of occasional dating and being buzzed about in all the society page columns, they decided to get married.
It had been, at first, as much of a merger as a marriage, the two corporate heads bringing their resources and assets together in a pooling that formed the W. B. Dodge Company as it existed today, Valerie magnanimously offering her new husband the right to sole use of the bannerhead. Not that there hadn't been another side to their marriage--Valerie certainly saw to that. Until she came along, Bill Dodge had never known what really total sexual excitement was all about. Sure, he'd had his share of would-be starlets and agency hangers-on, and they were all satisfying in their own sort of way, but nothing like this. Valerie was a veritable chasm of sexual delights, seemingly never tiring of incessant romps beneath the covers, continually frequent couplings that he knew he could only hope to provide her for just so long.
Extramarital sex wasn't even a topic they discussed; possibly if they had tried to agree on a plan of action, their life together would have been doomed to failure. But Valerie came through again, introducing him to a circle of friends she had apparently kept well obscured during the early months of their marriage, explaining much later that she wasn't lying, just waiting until he was ready for such far-out hobbies as wife-swapping and all-night orgies with a dozen or more couples.
But Dodge had taken to this new life like a duck to water, only in the very beginning feeling those omnipresent pangs of gnawing jealousy as he saw his lovely wife naked, being screwed until she screamed in ecstasy, sometimes by as many as five or six men in the course of one evening's get-together. Not now, though, now he enjoyed her little dalliances as much as his own, and fortunately, his new-found voyeuristic proclivities were well complemented by Valerie's obsessive exhibitionism.
Yes, their sex lives were most compatible. And they never forgot their allegiance to each other. Valerie, by turning the best of her current ripening young models over to her husband, satisfying his frequent cravings for just the right girlish, slim-hipped teeny-bopper to answer the burning desires his lechery fanned in his balls; and Dodge himself, never tiring in his quest for tireless young studs to toss to his insatiable auburn-haired wife like raw meat to a lioness. In fact, it had been he who first pointed out this newest passion to Valerie, directing her to "take a look at that artist kid waiting for his girl in our reception room." Valerie, of course, had taken it from there. And quite well, too, judging from the video tapes he'd previewed only last night.
His eyes caught a glimpse of Jessica's trim lovely legs, framed in the slit of her dress that went nearly up to the top of her thigh. She caught him staring at her when she turned, and quickly looked away, trying hard not to blush this time.
"Well, let's get a couple of drinks first and then join the fun," he said cheerily.
Jessica peered around the doorway into the immense living room; it was actually two rooms, L-shaped, and probably close to sixty feet at its longest point. The room was quite dark, most of the illumination coming from a good-sized projection screen at the end of the longest leg. A film was running; Jessica recognized it immediately as one of Valerie Madison's earlier television shows, a situation comedy that was quite successful in the fifties and now well into its thousandth rerun on afternoon TV. The long room, really more like a hall, was crowded with people, some sitting, some standing, quite a few even sprawled on the shag-carpeted floor. It was impossible to recognize anyone in the dim light, and for this she was grateful. It meant she didn't have to come to grips with the problem of what to tell Phillip right away; maybe with some time to think, it would be easier.
Dodge handed her a tall drink, served in a thick frosted glass, which he obtained from the light-skinned Negro busily mixing cocktails behind a richly-padded leather bar hidden away in one corner.
"What is it?" she asked, rather surprised that her host had not first asked her her preference.
There was a sudden burst of laughter as the slapstick action on the screen grew increasingly frantic, and the crowded smoky room came alive with screams of amusement. "It's a special drink that Valerie discovered. She serves it at all her parties ..." He was nearly shouting in her ear to be heard over the noise. "... Won't tell me the secret ingredients. Nobody knows but her. She mixes it up ahead of time and Randolph, the barman, just gets another pitcher from the kitchen maid when he runs low. I do know the base is absinthe Pernod, the real stuff from Spain."
"Pernod! Isn't that supposed to be poison, or something?" asked Jessica cautiously. She suddenly remembered a few half-whispered tales about the milky drink, rumors about its potent powers. Some even claimed it to be an aphrodisiac, though this had been disputed.
"It's like a lot of things, poisonous if you drink too much of it. Hell, you can die from drinking Scotch, if you decide to empty a barrel instead of a bottle. Don't worry about it," he assured her, "we've all been drinking it for years, and nothing's gone wrong yet." And at that, he made a melodramatic grab for his throat, clutching his windpipe as if dying, his eyeballs suddenly puffed out like a frog's.
Jessica laughed aloud at his obvious kidding, then suddenly felt quite better, more relaxed about being here, about having to eventually face Phillip. William Dodge seemed quite human to her now, no longer the distant, marble-cut corporate captain she'd known him to be from afar.
She felt a slight light headedness from the strong drink, though the potent blend was, indeed, very tasty, more like a tangy milkshake than the harsh gagging concoction she had expected. There was a glow there, but otherwise it didn't seem to dull her thinking like alcohol usually did. She liked it and sipped heavily again as William Dodge passed her another drink. A strange giddiness seemed to pervade throughout her whole body as she turned from the bar and looked around the darkened room. She had to squint her eyes to even see the opposite end because of the dimness, but still, she could make out the silhouettes of little clusters of people scattered about the enormous apartment. She strained to see if she could spot Phillip, half-hoping Dodge had been wrong and her boyfriend wasn't here. She wondered if he'd tried to reach her, explain that he was invited to this get-together. But she knew he had, it wouldn't be like sweet Phillip to do otherwise.
And then she saw him, outlined quite clearly as he passed in front of the doorway to the apartment's other rooms. Her whole body tensed, and she could see out of the corner of her eye that Dodge had noticed her sudden reaction. He came directly toward them, and she thought for a moment he had spotted her. But no, he stopped at a thickly upholstered loveseat sofa just a few feet away from where she stood near the bar.
"What's wrong, dear," Dodge whispered in her ear.
"Shhhhh," she managed, afraid that Phillip would hear her voice. She stood immobile for what seemed hours, not resisting as William Dodge slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. She felt the softness of her breasts crushed against his chest, though she didn't move as she watched, unbelieving, as Phillip's arms went familiarly around the body of the attractive woman she now recognized as Valerie Dodge.
"It's Phillip ... and your wife!" she whispered loudly, safer now from discovery that her boyfriend's back was turned. She watched with tears filling her eyes as Phillip's hands were seemingly at once everywhere on the voluptuous celebrity's receptive body. She saw now for the first time the horrible truth ... the man she held up as an example to strive for, the wonderful friend and lover she idolized ... no better than any cheating husband or boyfriend anywhere.
"Don't cry, luv, you'll smear your make-up."
"I don't care anymore," she replied bitterly, dabbing her eyes gingerly with his handkerchief. "I'd like another drink, please. It looks like I'11 need one."
"Now you're talking," smiled Bill Dodge, "that's just what I hoped you'd say."
Dodge's arm curled around her waist as she pulled heavily on her new drink; she leaned limply against him, all will to fight kicked out of her like a lungful of air with the revelation of Phillip's obvious infidelity. It hurt her, hurt her badly. And ironically, it hurt even worse because of her own horrible failure, that nightmarish encounter with Marty Felder. All the hours, All the nights of worrying, crying ... and all along, her precious boyfriend, the man she was going to marry, was no better. Even worse, he had a choice; no one forced him into anything. A man couldn't be forced to do the things she was seeing him do with her own eyes. God, how it ached to see him like this, like a fallen angel kicked from his place on high, now just another mortal, wallowing in the dust and dirt of earthly sin.
Only the knowledge that her wonderful Phillip would someday understand, that she could come to him, humbly and without conditions, to ask for his forgiveness ... only that knowledge had kept her alive these few days, had given her the strength to go on despite the ravishment she had endured at the hands of Marty Felder. Just thinking of Phillip, her knight in shining armor, had given her the will to live, the desire to keep on striving for what she had set as her goal in life. She had drawn from him a feeling of security, of strength, much like another might have drawn from her rosary or her Bible. And now, now that was all gone ... she felt more alone, more deserted and helpless, than she'd ever felt in her whole life. More than when she left home to come to New York, even more than last week when she left Felder's penthouse, bruised and ravaged, raped of her virginity.
Damn him, she thought, damn, damn, damn! He's not the only one who can have a good time! If he can do it, so can I! She could hurt him just as much as he could hurt her and if she had to do it, she would, without a second's hesitation. She sipped again on the strong greenish drink; the liquid seemed to wash away her tears, leaving in their place a kind of seething anger that grew by the moment.
She tried not to look, to keep her eyes away from the spectacle her boyfriend and this man's wife were making of themselves, but she couldn't, and when she looked again, to her horrified amazement, he had his hand inside the woman's dress as she lay back, her eyes closed, savoring his lascivious massaging, a rapturous expression on her face.
"The kid seems to know what he's doing," whispered Bill in her ear contemptuously.
"Oh, how could he. I mean, how could they!" she said, clenching her teeth, her voice rising in anger.
"Quiet, they'll hear you," he said in her hair, "and we don't want a scene. Remember, she's my wife."
Jessica knew he was right, as much as she would have liked to scream a few things into Phillip Wright's face and storm out. She gulped down the rest of her cocktail and asked for another, not taking her eyes for a moment off the lovemaking couple only a dozen feet away. Valerie's dress was unbuttoned now, and Phillip had lowered his face to her breasts. Even in the dim light, Jessica could see that his lips were fastened to the redhaired woman's nipple, she squirmed from side to side in the narrow confines of the loveseat.
She hardly dared to breathe. The strong drink had turned her body into a loose bundle of nerve ends that her mind could no longer control. She could not believe what she was seeing with her own two eyes ... nor could she believe the feelings that were suddenly stirring in her own flesh in tiny licking flames of desire. Was it the absinthe? Or was it the wanton forbidden wickedness of watching the man she loved making love to another woman? She didn't know, but whatever it was, it was steadily growing within her.
Bill Dodge's hands were around her waist, tenderly massaging her around the middle, and she didn't protest as his hands moved upward, slowly at first, until his palms cupped around the firm, lusciously formed mounds of her well-ripened young titties. She could feel the heat of his breath as he nibbled at the side of her neck. Paralyzed, she watched mutely as Phillip's hands searched under Dodge's wife's dress, found their mark as she arched suddenly, a silent scream on her lips, her eyes rolling in her head.
Suddenly Phillip glanced their way; she snapped her head away in time, but her lips were quickly met by Bill's insistent mouth. She let him kiss her; in fact, she kissed him back, hard ... he almost hoped Phillip had spotted her, hoped he could see her in the arms of Bill Dodge, watch helplessly as she allowed another man to hold her, to caress her, to fondle her like his own ... like he was doing with Valerie Dodge!
Bill's hands snaked over the supple curves of her young perfectly formed model's body, explored the curves and soft female recesses of her trim figure. And she didn't try to stop him. Twice she almost pulled away, almost ran from the room, from this whole building ... but she glanced at Phillip and Bill's wife. And that was enough to make her stay, to make her fight. Damn Phillip Wright! I'll show him! I'll show him!
"Looks like they're moving to someplace quieter ... with a little more privacy," whispered Bill. Jessica jerked her head around; in her growing passion, she had almost forgotten for a moment about her boyfriend and this man's wife.
Then she saw them moving through the crowd of buzzing people, past a couple or two already embraced on the carpet or on the sofas. He was right! They were going toward the bedrooms!
She turned away from the lurid scene, back to her drink and to Bill. She finished it hurriedly, then another, fighting once again to hold back the stinging tears that filled her eyes.
Later, after he had pressed more drinks than she could count in her hands and she had gratefully downed them, he pulled her to her feet from the couch. "Come on," he whispered quietly. "Let's just see what that young boyfriend of yours is doing to my wife. We might even try to even things up with them."
She followed him blindly, not caring where he was taking her or how long it took to get there.
"They've had long enough. We'll probably catch 'em right in the middle of it," Bill Dodge said. Jessica had lost count of the passion-inciting absinthe cocktails and she followed him wearily, like a lost child, toward the bedroom where Valerie and Phillip had disappeared a half-hour or so ago.
They reached the end of the corridor. "In here," he said, holding a finger to his lips. "And be quiet. They're in the same room."
He opened the door just enough for them to squeeze through without letting in too much light, though there was scarcely more light in the hallway than in the darkened bedroom. The room was large, even for Bill Dodge's apartment. It would have made an enormous dining room in any lesser man's apartment, here it was only the master bedroom.
She expected him to take her hand and lead her through the darkness, but instead, his arms pulled her to him and his lips came wetly into her mouth. She sucked on it gently, letting her body melt into his in the darkness. She could feel herself begin to tremble from the wicked excitement of another man's kiss long and hard and she could suddenly feel a slight jerk where his loins pressed into the softness of her stomach. He was getting hard and she sensed a sudden tensing in her own breasts as the tips were smashed hard against his chest.
Christ, I want to fuck you," he breathed into her ear.
Just the words strangely excited her as never before; but not a fearful excitement, it was one she welcomed. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his penis, feeling more wicked than she ever had before. The tingling in her breasts dropped to her thighs and danced there magically for a moment as he sucked in his breath from her touch.
"Take off your dress," he whispered hoarsely, unable to stand it any longer. He guided her backwards to a chair that she could barely make out in the dimness of a tiny night-light from the bathroom. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and she could distinguish the forms of the furniture easier now.
Jessica's hands trembled as she reached behind her and slid the zipper silently down from her neck to the cleft of her buttocks. She lifted the dress over her head and dropped it softly back across the chair. She gasped unintentionally as the cool air rushed over her nipples; she hadn't worn a bra with the modish outfit, and she shivered now as the coolness teased the sensitive buds of her pink, already slightly pulsating nipples. She had her panties only remaining, not even stockings, as the dress was so long they weren't needed. Her almost-nakedness sent chills through her flesh, exciting her as she had never been excited before. The thought that she would soon be writhing in passion with another man with Phillip in the same room only added to the forbidden joy. She would never have believed it possible for her to do this, never in a million years. But here she was, nearly stripped, in a near-stranger's bedroom ... and about to be fucked. Phillip Wright, you've got nobody to blame but yourself, she told herself, tempted to cry out in the darkness and let him try to figure it out. She could hear Bill Dodge struggling to get rid of his clothing and she smiled at his obvious impatience to get at her. Yes, she felt suddenly a different person, changed, changed drastically. And she was sure she'd like the new Jessica Richards far better than the old!
He reached for her in the darkness, his hands coming into contact with the nakedness of her shoulder first, the coolness of his hands causing her to jump.
"Oh, you frightened me. Where are they? Are you certain they are in this room?" she whispered.
"Oh, yes, they're on the other bed. There are two kingsized ones in here. Now get out of your panties," he said, his fingers brushing lightly over her to "see" what she had left.
She stripped the whiteness of her soft silken panties down over the fullness of her hips and thighs and stepped from them, dropping them with her dress on the adjacent chair. Now she was naked, totally, stark naked! And somehow she wasn't afraid! She felt no guilt about this, not this time ... he asked for it, and she aimed to give Phillip Wright just what he deserved.
Bill's hands reached out in the darkness and began running over her naked flesh. She stood still, her arms at her sides, trembling from the wicked sensations running through her. He dropped his head to her breast, cupping it in his hand, and sucked the tiny throbbing nipple deep into his warm wet mouth. Jessica groaned and swayed in the darkness, almost falling.
"Don't ... not here," she said courageously. "I want to do it where Phillip and your wife can hear us."
Without speaking, he took her hand quickly and led her to the bed closest them. It was even darker here, with not even the grayish nightlight glow to illuminate this side of the room. He stopped in the pitch darkness to get his bearings and Jessica held her breath ... then ... she could hear them! Yes, small sounds, lewd wet sounds she'd never heard before seemed to emanate from the other side of the coal-black room. She had no difficulty imagining what was going on, the wetness of the lewdly rising sucking sounds was a dead giveaway. Oh god, was Bill going to expect the same things from her! She wished she were drunker, blinded to what little sense of decency she had left within her. She knew she couldn't refuse him now; she had to show Phillip!
They reached the empty bed and he guided her down gently onto the silken coverlet spread over it. She had never felt anything quite like the sensation the first touch of it across her back gave her. It was warm from the first contact when she had expected it to be cold. She wriggled her back against it cat-like as she felt the sag of his weight on the bed as he lay down next to her. He made no attempts to keep his movements quiet and she was certain Phillip and Valerie could hear them but it only added to the excitement that she was going to get herself screwed silly while he lay listening to all the sounds she made. She waited quietly for a moment as Bill pressed his nakedness to hers for some sounds that would indicate that they had disturbed the other two nakedly writhing people, but there were none. The soft wet sucking noises continued unabated as though they were unaware of anyone else's presence.
"Ooohhhh, God," she suddenly groaned, forgetting entirely that Phillip was just across the room. Bill Dodge's warm wet lips had begun a gentle nibbling along her shoulder, sending goose-bumps racing over her flesh. She quivered uncontrollably from the sudden unexpected sensation and dropped her hand between them, involuntarily grasping his hard erected cock in her hands. She heard him groan in return as she pushed against it with her fingers, sliding the foreskin back over the round rubbery head.
"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, baby," he gasped hoarsely between panting breaths. "God, you've got one incredible body."
Jessica smiled to herself through the sensations of desire building deep in her belly. She was indeed a woman after all, and for a man like Bill Dodge to be excited about you, well, that really meant something!
'Yes, Bill, darling, I want you to ... I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good, please," she moaned with false passion, hearing with quiet satisfaction the sudden stillness of the other couple. And then, a feminine voice.
"Keep sucking me, Phillip, lover! Lick it good, baby! Don't stop for anything!" came the loud whisper through the room in desperation and then she heard the sounds of movement as though someone were struggling to pull someone back to them, then ... the wet, lewd sucking noises again, only quieter this time.
Jessica didn't dare breathe. Phillip was doing it to her! Her boyfriend, the man in her life ... sucking that tramp! His tongue probably swirling shamelessly around in her vagina!
It was the last controlled thought she had. Bill's hot moist mouth fastened tightly to an excitedly erected nipple and began a gentle sucking pressure against it. His hands coursed lightly at the same time over the soft firmness of her belly and thighs. His mouth played for a long delicious moment around me throbbing tits, moving from one to the other, his tongue trailing wetly down through the narrow fleshy valley between them as he alternated his attention to each.
And then, his mouth slid down over her now hotly quivering belly, his penis sliding from her hand as his body moved away. He ground his tongue for a moment into her navel, bringing small mewls and gasps of pleasure from her open mouth. He moved lower, maddening patterns of indecent sensation trailing after his gently nibbling teeth. She felt her thighs being pressed gently open and she made no resistance as he haunched down between them. She sucked in her breath with a gasp as she felt his fingers spreading the soft hair covered lips of her vagina and the coolness of the air touched her there. His tongue flicked forward, the tip teasing moistly against the tiny bud of her clitoris, causing it to throb into a shocked, eagerly quivering hardness. He lowered his fingers and spread the opening of her cunt wide apart and then suddenly, dropping his tongue from her clitoris, thrust it deep into the pink, moist flesh of her open pussy mouth.
Jessica jerked spasmodically from the sudden wet searing contact and, reaching down, tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face hard into her loins. His tongue circled around maddeningly inside her, the tip flicking teasingly against the wet sensitive walls of her pussy like the warning tongue of a vicious snake about to strike.
"Mmmmmm." A deep-throated sigh of pleasure escaped from deep in her throat. "It's good, darling. Do it more, Bill, lick it more!" she cried loudly enough for Phillip to hear.
She chanted the words now without thought, her breasts heaving against her chest. Her legs splayed out wide and she jackknifed her knees up hard against her swaying breasts to open her cunt wide, as wide as she could, to offer him the whole fleshy pink expanse. He spread the smooth upturned crevice of her buttocks wide apart with the palms of his hands, stretching them cruelly as he heard her begging for more, and dropping his tongue to the small tightly puckered anus, thrust the tip hard against it until he felt it finally give slightly and the tip enter just a little. She fairly shrieked her joy now as he teased it wetly against the sensitive tightness of her rectal lips.
"Oh, Bill! Bill! God, it's so good!"
He moistened the tip of his middle finger in her cunt and pressed it against the tight little hole, his mouth returning to her clitoris, and as he nibbled against it he thrust forward with his finger, sinking it to the knuckle in her asshole. A groan burst from her lips, and then he sank the upraised digit a knuckle further.
"Aaaawwww, God ...! God ...! It hurts! It hurts!!"
He held it still and thrust his tongue deep up her vagina again until she became accustomed to the strange stretching presence in her asshole.
She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open, her lips drawn back tight over her teeth and her breasts quivering sensuously on her chest. Then, after an eternity, she began to breathe again. He began to lick and suck in earnest now, twisting his finger around and around in her rectum, stretching it wider with each brutal circle until the pain in her rear passage merged with the powerful pleasure-pain coursing through her pussy and she began thrusting her white rounded buttocks back up on his finger, skewering it into herself in rhythm with the lashing of his tongue. He slid his free hand up under her upraised buttocks and pressed them tight up against his face, locking him to her in a lascivious wet connection of tongue and pussy. The soft curly hair grazed tantalizingly against his cheeks.
A strange masochistic wildness had somehow taken control of her body as she lay impaled between his tongue and finger and she ground her ass in wild abandoned ecstasy hard up against the maddening probings of her hot steaming loins. Nothing mattered now but the agony of the lovely swirling sensations rippling over every inch of her naked flesh. There was nothing else in the world and she writhed and twisted beneath his impalement, gasping and screaming all the lewd words that came into her tortured and anguished mind.
"Yes, yes, Bill! Suck me, lick my pussy! Ram your finger harder in my ass! Oh harder, yes, harder! Aaawww!!"
Dodge worked like an avenging devil below, hearing her cries as she approached a quick climax. Jesus, he certainly hadn't misjudged this one. Scratch the surface, and ... voila! A screaming she-goddess of passion. She was a hot enough little bitch, all right, he thought through the blind ecstasy of bringing a tender young beauty like this to orgasm, playing her like he'd play a musical instrument. He flicked his tongue faster and ground his finger with greater severity into the ever-expanding hole of her anus.
Her body worked beneath him, her thighs spasmodically opening and closing on the sides of his head. He could feel their warm resilience press tightly against his ears as she would jerk involuntarily from an extra deep flick of his tongue in her cunt.
Bill Dodge felt her belly begin to rise and fall more quickly, her head flailing out of control from side to side on the mattress, her long blonde hair, undone now from its careful styling, lashing about the bed like a whip. He thrust his tongue deeper ...
Her thighs pressed tighter into the sides of his head, tightening and softening in a lewd rhythm to the thrusting of his punishing tongue. He knew she was on the brink of orgasm. Not quite there, but hanging on the very edge. Her breasts heaved and danced on her chest wildly, her fingers twisted crazily in his hair. Her head stopped its flailing and tensed as she arched her back, the cords in her neck standing out like steel tendons. Her face contorted and a low guttural scream rumbled deep in her throat, choked off at the last moment by a long soulful gasp that reminded him of a piteously dying young doe.
Aaaaahhhhhh ...
Jessica felt as though she were losing her insides as the fluid of her orgasm started deep in her belly and gushed out with a roar around his still thrashing tongue and out onto his face. She could feel it running wetly down the crevice of her buttocks, around the finger still worming hotly around in her anus, and down to the covers below. She gave one last great gasp and collapsed down into the mattress, dropping her legs like heavy weights of lead to each side of his body. She could not move, the world and everything around her was a big glowing ember, the charred fragments of the nerve-shattering explosion that had been her orgasm. She lay absolutely immobile, her arms and legs splayed out uselessly like a rag-doll on either side. Bill Dodge lay still also, with his head pillowed in the wet softness of the sparsely curling blonde pubic hair between her legs. They panted out their exhaustion together for a long moment and Bill crawled up over her and pressed his open mouth over hers. She could feel and taste the wetness and intensity of her orgasm on his cheeks and lips and thrust her tongue deep in his mouth in a wordless gesture of thanks for the incredible gift he had just given her.
"You rest for a minute, honey," he whispered in her ear. "Then it's your turn to suck me!"
She nodded her head gently in agreement with his mouth locked tightly to hers. She knew this was the moment she should have dreaded, but now it seemed like such a small thing to do for this man who had brought such a wild, deliciously wicked response from her. She had done it solely for revenge against Phillip, but instead, Bill Dodge had shown her what one person could really give to another. She wanted to repay him, to do anything he wanted of her ... and not for revenge this time, but to pay him back for what he had so wonderfully done.
Through the darkness, she could hear the soft mewling pleadings of Dodge's wife Valerie. She laughed softly to herself. Phillip had a long way to go and a lot to learn if he were ever going to compete with this man. God, even Marty Felder had succeeded in bringing some kind of response from her, crude and brutal though he was.
Bill lay with his leg thrown over her, his chin nestled against her shoulder as their breathing subsided. The wet sucking noises of Phillip's lovemaking to Bill's wife filtered through the room in a low continuous rhythm. They were punctuated by the soft moaning noises of her passion. Periodically, as he thrust his tongue forward extra vigorously, a slight whimper of surprised delight would erupt from her lips. Jessica could feel Bill's already hardened prick lying across her thigh, throbbing almost in unison to the sound of his wife's salacious groans.
"Ready, darling," he whispered, and moved temporarily away from her.
"Yes, roll onto your back," Jessica murmured surprising even herself at her own boldness, but she could think of no greater punishment for Phillip than to be present while another man shot his sperm deep up into the girl he was going to marry's throat and he was powerless to do anything about it. The thought of doing that to a man no longer repelled her as her loins were still moist and warm from the pleasures he had just conferred upon her and anything that made a person feel that good could not possibly be as degrading as it once seemed to her.
She began slowly, following his example in lieu of experience, running her tongue down the hollows of his neck to his chest. She found the small male nipples and nipped gently at them, sure they would offer no response. But to her pleasant surprise, they did, and she could feel him twist slightly from the strange sensation. She didn't know much yet about the naked male body and worked slowly to learn. With one hand she reached down and grasped his hardened penis between her fingers as she worked lower and lower with her tongue licking wildly at his flesh. She remembered the wild sensations that had run through her own body when he had licked at her navel and conferred the same on him, running her tongue around hotly inside it until she felt his stomach begin to heave beneath her. He was hairy and she could feel the soft wiriness of it against her lips and face as she moved. She dropped one hand down lower and grasped his hardened penis tightly between her fingers, drawing back the foreskin in a slow teasing motion that brought louder groans from his lips.
The position was growing more uncomfortable as she worked lower, so she crawled over him, pushed his legs apart, and kneeled on all fours between his thighs, her own feet hanging over the end of the bed.
Her face was over his loins now and she continued the gentle skinning back and forth of his ever hardening cock. Her lips were a bare inch away from the tip and she opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing her hot breath to flow over the cool tip with a maddening slowness.
"Ooohh, God, suck it! Now, baby!" she heard him groan above her. His words excited her as she knew her boyfriend next to them would hear and she found herself sadistically wishing she could see his face when he finally realized it was she, Jessica, doing this obscene thing, willingly, to another man. She'd show him! She was no little girl, she could be as much of a woman as that cheap hussy Valerie!
Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with the head of his cock. She circled it about the smooth, rubbery flesh as he groaned and twisted above from the cruel teasing she was subjecting him to. The tip of her slowly searching tongue found the tiny opening of the gland at the end and darted wetly into it. It was already moist from the tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeping from his rising excitement. The sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare slightly. Her hands dropped to the base of the huge erected prick and she cupped his soft, smooth testicles gently with one of them, grazing her nails tantalizingly over the hairy flaccid flesh. The other hand she placed at the thick base of his cock where it soared from the curly black pubic hair covering his lower stomach. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and pulled down hard, skinning back the foreskin until the large red throbbing head stood alone and naked against the softness of her lips. She began planting moist warm kisses around it, beginning at the tip and tracing a path down the full length of it to the base and then wetly back up to the tip again. She played longer than she knew she should, not being able, just yet, to bring herself to take it wholly in her mouth.
But Bill could stand no more. With a gurgle deep in his throat, he reached down with his hands, tangled them in her hair and thrust his loins up with the strength of an enraged bull. Jessica resisted for a moment, doubts running wildly through her mind, but it was too late. The thick spongy head rammed inside, crushing through her soft moist lips, between the whiteness of her teeth and into the spongy softness of her tongue. She could feel the hardness of it as it rubbed against the full length of her mouth, almost imbedding itself deep in her throat.
She closed her eyes to keep from choking at the sight of it. Saliva seemed to fill her mouth, all of it, except that filled by Bill's great fleshy cock, now protruding banana-like from her ovaled shaped lips.
"Oooh, honey, your mouth feels so nice," she heard him murmur as he began a slow rhythmic undulation of his hips up into her face.
"Tighten you lips, baby, and suck harder," he hissed from above, through clenched teeth, his voice thick and coarse from his passion.
Jessica did as she was told, feeling at the same time the excitement growing again in her own body from the mean, debasing thought of her mouth being used this way by a man as wealthy and famous as Bill Dodge, just as Marty Felder had used her cunt, like a receptacle for his spent lust. She sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with vengeance around and around the throbbing head sliding it teasingly and hotly in and out of her widely ovaled lips. She sucked voraciously, her head bobbing like a cork over his lewdly pumping loins. The masochistic joy of being used, used like a dirty whore while Phillips damn him, was only a few feet away, permeated her body in tingling surges of wanton ecstasy, submissive mewling sounds coming from her lips locked tightly around his thrusting cock. She was going to let him pump his lewd white sperm into it until it exploded out and ran from the edges of her lips in sticky white trails of blissful sensation that could be matched by nothing else in the world.
And if Phillip didn't know how, he would know soon enough ... he'd know everything!
Chapter 8
A little over a half hour before, Phillip had obediently followed Bill Dodge's wife into the same darkened room. He had wanted immediately to turn on the light so that he could again see her nakedness, to marvel at that wondrous body of hers, but she talked him out of it. He wasn't aware that her bringing him here was no accident, and that Valerie and Bill Dodge had planned all along to get him into this room with Jessica here at the same time. He had stripped his clothing from his body quickly in the darkness as she had waited on the bed urging him to hurry. His head whirled slightly from too much drink and he had not protested when the moment he stretched beside her she opened her legs wide and guided his head down between them.
He had never made love to a woman this way before, though he had often thought of it wistfully. He parted the softness of Valerie Dodge's soft curl-fringed vaginal lips with his thumbs and found his nostrils suddenly flaring from the sweet, soft odor of feminine arousal that arose from her body.
"Kiss it, darling, kiss my pussy," she had purred from above him, her fingers stroking softly through his longish hair.
He had flicked out his tongue experimentally and felt her jerk and quiver slightly as it came into contact with the smooth moist flesh exposed between the narrow pink ridges of her vaginal lips. He licked gently at the hardening little clitoris snuggled just above the wide-stretched entrance to her cunt where it gave him a sudden sense of power as it brought further jerks from her body and greater moans sifting through her lips.
He pressed his thumbs farther apart, pulling the ragged moist edges of the open slit even further apart. His tongue traced a path up and down the full length searching out the wet hidden crevices between her legs. He gradually warmed to the task as he became more and more familiar with the tiny erogenous zones of her loins and felt her breathing increasing in intensity. His sense of power grew with the familiarity and he found himself teasing for a moment at a particularly sensitive area, listening to her impatient mewlings above him, then flicked his tongue forward at the last minute when he sensed she could wait no longer.
The groans and twisting increased until he pressed his head forward and thrust his tongue out lizard-like sinking it deep into the wet, moistly pulsating opening of her pussy. There was a weird soulful cry from her lips and then a slow, grinding of her loins up against his face began. Her hands tangles tight in his hair, kept his face imprisoned between her hungrily rotating thighs as though held by steel bands.
His cock hardened on the bed covers below and his own loins began a slow thrusting against the spread, rubbing the full tortured length of his rising penis against the softness of the mattress. The tingling sensation rising in his own belly from the pressure against his cock and the sweet soft odor of Valerie's warm fleshy cunt grinding on his face blotted out the thought of anything but this moment. Only for an instant did he think of Jessica, sweet innocent Jessica ... how she would react if she could see him now!
"Ooooh, fuck your tongue in and out a little faster, darling," she purred again, bringing his mind back to the task at present. He quickened his thrusts, feeling her buttocks increasing their speed slightly.
"Cup your hands under my ass and pull my cunt a little closer to your face, lover," she sighed heavily.
Phillip slid his hands down from between her thighs and cupped them under the smooth rounded globes of her ass, pulling the wetness of her loins up tighter against his face. He could feel tiny dewdrops of moisture forming against his cheeks on the edges of the soft pubic hair surrounding his lips. He nipped gently with his teeth into soft fleshy folds surrounding the widening hole and reveled in the tiny squeal it brought from her throat. He was enjoying this power he possessed over her and worked to show his complete domination on her every breath. His tongue slavered on and on in the moistness of her loins, increasing little by little in speed and depth until he had brought her to the point of absolute subjugation to the whims of his teasingly flicking tongue.
Then, as he licked and sucked between her widely yawning thighs like a hungry, mewling animal, he heard a sudden noise behind him in the darkness of the room. His first impulse was to raise his head and see what it was, but the strength of her hands holding his face tight to her loins prevented him.
He heard the noise again, closer this time as though someone were struggling quietly on the bed across from them. The smoothness of naked skin rustled against the bed cover punctuated by low, excited whispers. He closed his eyes and continued thrusting his tongue into Dodge's wife's cunt and then opened them again and tried to see Trough the darkness to the next bed. It was too dark, though the rear door to the bedroom, opening onto a lighted bath, was ajar. He was thinking why bother, it was probably some other couple trying to find a quiet secluded place of their own. He hurried his sucking of her cunt, hoping to satisfy her quickly as a thought of the others possibly sharing their hideaway began to nag him. And besides, he sort of wanted to get back to the party, for there was a girl out there that he had glimpsed only for an instant at the bar that he was dying to see closer. She looked strongly like Jessica, though a bit more sophisticated, and the curiosity of seeing her in better light was intriguing him.
His thoughts were interrupted by series of soulful gasps coming from closeby. It sounded like a woman in pain. He stopped for a moment, holding his breath. He wondered if he should continue but the question was answered by a tightening of Valerie's fingers in his hair. His tongue snaked forward again into her soft, warm, liquid depths as he heard a distinct female murmur followed by the sound of heavy male breathing. God, it was another couple and they were going to fuck right next to them. They must have either drunk a lot, or been so fired up with each other that they couldn't hear not to have noticed him and Valerie in the same room.
"Ooooo, God," he heard in a heavy throated female whisper, barely audible even in the almost total silence of the darkened chambers.
"I'm gonna' fuck you until you can't walk straight, baby ..." Bill's voice followed in an equally soft murmur.
"Yes, Bill, darling, I want you to ... I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good, please!"
Phillip's tongue came to a sudden halt in Valerie's cunt as he heard the familiar pleading voice. He couldn't believe his ears at first ... but he heard it again ... it was Jessica! That girl downstairs hadn't just looked like Jessica, it was Jessica! He was dumb-struck by the sound of her voice, the startling revelation that she was there, naked! And with another man! It had to be Bill Dodge ... Bill Dodge with his girl, and him with Valerie Dodge! Christ, it was too much to even comprehend!
He was shocked back into reality by Valerie's pleading shriek above him, "... Keep sucking, Phillip darling ... don't stop!"
Her legs jerked out and over his shoulders and her thighs wrapped around his head, pulling his face back into her crotch wet and hard. His face flushed as he realized she had screamed out his name and now Jessica would know. He sucked to keep her from screaming again and listened for some sign that she knew he was there and had pushed the man away. But there was none ... just the continued rustling of naked bodies against the mattress and the wet moist sounds of lips slavering out of control across soft bare flesh. Oh God, he hoped she wasn't sucking him, but he didn't dare raise his head from Valerie's wildly grinding buttocks to find out. She would shriek again and if Jessica hadn't heard it last time, she would the next. But anyway, she must know that someone was here now. Jesus, how could she do whatever it was she was doing, knowing someone else was in the same room and listening? And what was she doing here, with a married man old enough to be her father? It was different for a girl, girls just don't do things like that. At least not girls like Jessica ... or maybe like Jessica used to be, he thought sadly, painfully.
He wished he could see them. Was she lying on top of him, straddling him with her legs open? Was she completely naked or had she just lifted her dress up over her hips, taken in by the liquor and Bill Dodge's smooth, honey-dripping line of bull? His tortured mind formed a thousand lewd obscene pictures of his darling Jessica lying in the darkness across the room, her dress pulled up over her hips and lying back on the mattress with her legs spread obscenely open while this woman he was sucking's husband plundered her soft, defenseless cunt with his hands and mouth, that sweet innocent little pubic cleft he had treasured so much. Or was she haunched over him, her head bobbing up and down with his thick hard cock shoved into her clean soft mouth. He groaned and pushed his face as tight as he could into the warm moistness of Dodge's wife's pussy, trying to drive from his mind the anguished thoughts.
He had known Bill was here, at least Valerie had said mat he was coming, but she hadn't said anything about this! His own sweet Jessica being lured into this swingers' set!
God, he was getting turned on beyond belief! Excited from the wet sucking noises coming from Bill's hotly licking tongue as he plundered me very depths of Jessica's hot steaming pussy. And suddenly, without knowing, he forgot it was his own girlfriend there, he forgot it was another man bringing cries of pain and pleasure from her lust contorted lips. It was just another woman, a hot passion-crazed naked woman writhing and twisting in the throes of an act as old as the ages. He felt his cock throbbing and aching against the covers below, his testicles felt swollen and angry at their neglect and he could feel small droplets of cum begin oozing from the tip of his penis wetting the mattress beneath where it had rubbed. It jerked when suddenly he heard her cries and pleadings for further and further indignities to be heaped upon her. He moaned in piteous masochistic torture as Bill Dodge followed her screams and rammed his small finger deep into her virginally unplundered little asshole.
And she was begging for more! He was sucking her harder and harder!
He heard her murmuring obscene words, words he didn't know she even knew, broken and slurred, mixed with the animal mutterings of passion from deep in her lungs. She groaned incessantly and he could hear the rustling of her naked skin against the bed as it twisted and turned beneath Dodge's relentlessly licking tongue. He could picture her with her face wildly contorted in abandoned ecstasy, her body bent double with the toes of her feet touching the bed up over her shoulders, her loins presented up in defenseless virginal surrender to his voraciously sucking mouth.
And then, then she loosed an unearthly squeal that was low and sharp and sounded as though he were killing her except that Phillip knew only too well that wasn't the case. She was at the point of orgasm, brought there by another man, and the wet sucking noises coming from Jessica's widespread and nakedly open young pussy filled the room as Bill Dodge licked and sucked between her thighs faster and faster with his tireless lizard-like tongue. God, it was something only he should be doing, yet somehow it didn't anger him, it excited him!
He heard her voice gasping, "Aaaaahhhhh ..." trailing off to a small almost helpless cry of piteous whimpering as she moaned out her completion through desire tortured lips.
Phillip's body was tense, and he sucked harder against Bill's wife's open loins trying to no avail to kill the furious aching desire building in his cock below as he heard his own nakedly spread girlfriend being debauched as she had never been before.
He heard her breathe deeply, a sigh escaping from far down inside her still heaving chest. She gave small occasional cries of further sensation as her teasing lover nipped for a moment longer at the still throbbing bud of her tiny erect clitoris.
There was silence for a moment, broken only by the heavy spent breathing coming from the other side.
He listened intently to see if Whey would stop or go on to something else as equally perverted and dirty as the act they had just finished. His own sucking was forgotten now; his only desire the need to contain this restless urge in his loins to leap the distance that separated them and rape his girlfriend where she lay. God, he wanted more than anything to fuck her now. He wanted to bring the same responses from her lips that the older man had, he wanted, needed to show her he could do it just as well, maybe better.
There was a rustle of the bedspread and the soft sound of a naked body twisting around on it. Soft whispers that he could not make out drifted across in the silence. They were moving about for some reason, and there was the audible sound of heavy, coarse male breathing becoming more and more excited by the second. He was whispering things that Phillip could not make out clearly but from their tone alone sounded lewd and forbidden. Then suddenly, there was a gasp from Valerie Dodge's husband's lips as though he were in sudden pain, his voice broke through the stillness like a knife, loud and clear so that Phillip could not mistake Heir cruel sadistic significance:
"Ooooh, your mouth is so nice, baby."
Phillip groaned into Valerie's wetly gyrating cunt and clenched his eyes tightly shut, wishing to blot out the horrible picture forming in his mind of the sweet young Jessica's virginal lips ovaled wide and slipping obscenely down over the man's thick, excitedly glistening cock. This was the ultimate humiliation, lying here with his face pressed tightly between another woman's thighs as his own beautiful young innocent girlfriend sucked another, at least Dirty years older than she, man right on the next bed.
"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he heard Bill hiss through passion-clenched teeth. He jerked his head up, forcing it from Valerie's desperately clinging hands and tried to peer through the darkness. He could see nothing but his imagination went wild, the low dim form of Jessica, probably nude, haunched on all fours over Bill Dodge's heavily grinding loins with his cock buried deep in her mouth, emerged in his jealousy-crazed mind. She was not fighting it and low soft muffled mewls of pleasure drifted across the room from her cock-stuffed Croat.
"Don't leave me, don't, please, darling!" Valerie shouted, fighting desperately with her hands to draw his head back down between her wide-spread, unsatisfied thighs.
But Phillip twisted away, ignoring her pleas, the wet sucking noises Jessica was making with her ovaled lips and the grunts of pleasure coming from Bill Dodge's mouth as she labored lewdly over him were too much. Forgotten was his anger, his jealousy, his confusion ... he was a wild uncontrolled animal now that wanted nothing more than to ram his aching tortured cock into that gorgeous long-haired blonde, no matter what the cost to both their promising careers. He wanted to punish her as she had been punishing him by her obscene submission to the man on me next bed.
He rose from the end of me mattress where his legs were hanging over the edge and half-stumbled toward the obscene wet sucking noises in me darkness. He banged his shin painfully against me corner of the bed but ignored it in his frenzy. He Crust his hands out in front of him, feeling the air toward the sounds and where he knew me end of the bed should be.
There was an abrupt inhale of breath and me sucking noises stopped as his hands came into electrifying contact with the softly swaying flesh. It stilled for a moment, and then, with what he was sure was a soft muffled laugh of triumph, began again. He probed experimentally with his fingers, digging them harshly into the smoothly naked skin. He found her back bone, the tiny ridges standing out from the humped-over position she was kneeling in. He followed it slowly down toward her buttocks until he came into warm contact with the crevice of her ass. It was hanging right over the end of me bed and swaying high in the air, her knees wide apart on the edge of the mattress. He moved around directly behind her, running his hands over the smooth white cheeks of her softly rippling buttocks. He could feel them quivering under his touch from the movement of her head below as she bobbed and twisted her face, her lips still locked obscenely around Bill's ever-growing prick.
Phillip gritted his teeth, tiny droplets of sweat beginning to roll from his forehead and with his thumbs, he drew the soft flexing crevice of her ass wide apart. He ran the middle finger of one hand down the entire length of it, feeling it still wet and open from Bill's saliva and her own orgasmic fluids that had gushed so wildly from it moments before. He thrust his finger into her cunt, feeling her jerk slightly forward from the sudden invasion. A deeper mewl came from her throat but she didn't let up with her sucking of the older man's cock for an instant.
Damn, she's burning up, Phillip thought, amazed at her newly-found passion, his already aching penis throbbing again in anticipation of ramming it between those beautifully shaped mounds of her ass. Again, the lewd thought of fucking her this way, from behind while another man fucked into her mouth, overcame all his shame and humiliation from her wanton submission to Valerie's husband. Pushed aside for now were his fears his puzzled anguished thoughts about her virginity ... had she been lying to him all along? Was it all some cruel joke, and she was letting other men fuck her the whole time?
He slipped his hand from her cunt and with an outward pressure of his thumbs spread me full rounded moons wide apart as he leaned forward. His prick made a sharp, electrical-like contact with the soft sparse pubic hair covering the slim folds of tender young flesh which enfolded her vagina. He gasped aloud as he felt her hand reach back! Reach back under her body, her fingers fondly grasping his desire-thickened shaft. She moved it up and down for a moment, parting me softness of her sparse blonde pubic hair and men guided it gently forward. He let his hips move to the slight tug until, with a sudden groan that began deep in his chest, the warm moist flesh of her vagina popped teasingly over the head of his cock like a tight fitting glove. He could feel the softness of the curly soft lining of pubic hair brushing teasingly around where it entered her.
Phillip could hold back no longer ... he threw back his head and rammed forward, not knowing what to expect from Jessica not knowing or caring any longer whether he would meet a virginal wall of flesh, or the hungrily sucking cavern of a dirty little street whore. His great cock flooded into his kneeling sweetheart like a tide, tearing and bursting everything in its path, deeper and deeper until his loins smacked hard against her upturned ass. He could feel the white soft cheeks flattened outward from the wide-split anal crevice towards her hips from the pressure he was exerting on her backside. He convulsively reached forward, clasping his hands tightly around her narrow waist where it flared into her trim girlish hips and held her tight so that she could not escape his ravishing thrusts. His fears were fulfilled soon enough as his long thick cock slithered easily into the tight confines of her well-lubricated pussy sheath, but there was no time for thinking of that now ... her virginity was not in question, only her ability to satisfy two men fucking her at the same time, to fulfill her role in the universe by answering their needs, emptying their loins of the painfully building sperm and giving them the pleasure that followed.
A low muffled moan came from her lips, distorted in sound by the huge thick cock throbbing deep in her throat and she tried to squirm forward to escape me deep and sudden impalement of her widely spread young pussy. But there was no escape, she held like in the jaws of a vise, skewered helplessly between Bill Dodge's cock buried deep in her throat and that of her boyfriend grinding deep into her upraised vagina from the rear.
Valerie's husband lying beneath her, held her head trapped tightly between his hands, his legs splayed out wide on either side of her knees. He thrust his cock mercilessly into her mouth. At the other end, Phillip surged into her with long deeply punishing strokes into the wet throbbing slit between her buttocks which hollowed and shook beneath his hands as though she were being beaten with chains.
The older man's hand suddenly clenched above his head from the involuntary spasms building in his body, and in his frenzied ecstasy, his elbow bumped the bedside light switch, bathing the whole scene in light, freezing the moment forever in a lurid tableau of wanton lasciviousness.
But no one cared ... they were all too far gone to notice such a minor development.
Phillip swung his head from side to side as he rammed his cock deeper and deeper from behind into Jessica's stretched and heavily filled young cunt, and suddenly he could catch a side view of this lewd scene in the mirror that ran alongside the bed. He groaned in anger and frustration as the obscene picture of his own supposedly virginal young girlfriend, the girl he was going to marry, being fucked like a whore between two of them in this subservient kneeling position she was in came clearly to his eyes. He could see Bill Dodge's huge thick rod disappearing and re-appearing between her hungrily sucking lips, her long disheveled blonde hair flowing down over her head to lie in a soft pool on his rounded, hair-covered belly. Her firm, white tits danced and shook below her heaving chest as Cough they had strings attached to the nipples and were being tugged and pulled from above.
On the other side of the immense bedroom, he could see Dodge's helpless wife, Valerie, watching them with her eyes opened wide and smoky from the effect the salacious sight was having one her. Her legs were drawn up in a crab-like position with three fingers of one hand thrust far down into her wetly-spread cunt. Her other hand massaged her own breasts in wild circular motions as she worked vicariously in time to the cruel buffeting of Jessica's naked young body impaled between her young lover and her husband.
He wanted to cry, scream, anything ... anything to pull his future young bride's suddenly insatiable craving body from between them but he couldn't. His prick ached and throbbed inside her now voraciously clasping pussy and he couldn't bear to pull it from the soft tight moistness. Instead, he watched, hypnotized, in the mirror as the tempo increased by the second.
He began unconsciously following the rhythm Valerie's husband was setting with his merciless fucking in and out of her mouth. Wilder and wilder the two of them became, punishing Jessica mercilessly between them. Their thick hoarse groans intermingled now with Jessica's muffled and muted cries from around the fleshy rod stuffing the cavern of her mouth. She lolled limply between them, allowing herself to be used as they would, following their beat in the swirling of her tongue around Bill's almost exploding cock. And then suddenly ...
A half-human scream erupted from Bill Dodge's throat and he locked his hands around the back of Jessica's rhythmically bobbing head, drawing it deep down on his hotly pulsing rigidity until all Phillip could see left of his cock was a small bit at the base protruding wet and glistening from her wildly sucking lips. He watched in horrified awe as her throat tightened and untightened, swallowing in great desperate gulps the hotly erupting cum the older man was spewing up into her mouth. Her cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warm, working cavern of her throat filled and emptied, filled and emptied, as she desperately swallowed to rid it of the flooding white sperm pulsating into it. Christ, he thought to himself, the man's balls must be filled with cum!
At the same time, he could feel a gush of warmth around his own cock inside her still-pulsating vagina and her own hotly exploding orgasmic juices began to flow out from around the edges of his deeply imbedded cock and down into the softness of his noisily smacking testicles.
She was cumming too now, and like a dying banshee, groaned out her release as she continued her now uncontrolled sucking and nibbling on Valerie Dodge's husband's slowly deflating prick. Phillip clenched his eyes tightly shut and felt his own testicles begin to wildly erupt up inside her hotly clenching young cunt walls. His hot sperm spurted like a firehose through the end of his still hard driving cock and squirted wildly far up into Jessica's palpitating vagina. In spite of the excitement an obscene thought of his lewdly gushing sperm mixing with that of a stranger deep up inside his future bride's greedily absorbing belly sent chills of revulsion creeping through him. For a moment, he hated her again and fucked his cock as deep as it would go up into her as it spewed out its lewd load, he ground his pelvis around and dug the head deeper and deeper, battering the smooth wet walls of her pussy without mercy. She whimpered, her own orgasm nearing its end and tried to jerk forward to dislodge him from her now satiated young cunt but he held her smoothly trembling buttock cheeks back against his loins now for a further moment, looking down on the back of her head as she suddenly turned to the side. Dodge's thick, deflating prick slipped from her mouth and he could see thin, sticky white strings of his sperm still connecting her face to it even though it was now several inches away from her lips. Her breathing was heavy and wet as though her mouth and nose were completely covered with moisture. She groaned and flopped her head sideways to his belly, her body limp like a rag-dolls, held in place against Phillip's loins only by the pressure of his hands at the juncture of her widespread thighs. He strained forward and emptied the last of his cum deep up inside her unresisting belly and then released his hands as he felt his own prick begin deflating inside the wetly flooded grip of her cunt. She slithered forward and lay still across the older man's loins and chest, her own legs still wide apart. He caught a last view of her wide stretched vagina between her open legs before he fell to the side of the bed where Valerie had moved and was working herself with her own fingers into a frenzy. He had barely hit the mattress when she engulfed him in her arms and began pleading, "Me, now me, darling!"
He could see Jessica, her face still lying against Bill Dodge's calmed belly, smiling over at him across the room, thin white droplets of his sperm still visible around her lips. Her victory was complete; she had hurt him deeply, exacted her revenge ... and proved herself as a woman.
There were other things that night, crazy, erotic, wild things with all of them on the same bed together, things he'd never dreamed of, with Valerie and Bill Dodge directing them like concerned tutors. After a while, there were more drinks, and the night faded into a blur of lust-hardened cocks and passion-moistened pussies, breasts and gasping orgasms. And why not, he asked himself, why shouldn't he and his future young wife, Jessica, let themselves go totally?
It was obvious to the two of them that their lives would never be the same again anyway.
Chapter 9
Mrs. Jessica Wright dumped her tired body into the decorator-designed barrel-based leather chair at the closest corner of the plush loft-type apartment, kicked her shoes off onto the Persian carpet that stretched across the huge room and panted to regain her breath. It was nearly ten o'clock, and she had been on her feet, mostly in front of banks of bright lights and flashing strobes since nine this morning. But she wasn't really tired; physically a little worn out, but that would pass. What counted was inside and there she felt nothing but contentment and happiness at her new life. Across the room, a half dozen of her more recent magazine covers, blown up into enormous proportions by some of the guys down at Dodge Company, dominated the room. The stereo system was blaring at peak capacity, and she knew what that meant ... her husband Phillip, was working. He was the only commercial artist she knew who insisted on ear-splitting decibels before he could settle down to work.
She tried to recall what it was he'd said this morning he was working on now. The Ford campaign? No, it seems it was food of some sort ... maybe I should go ask him, just to let him know I'm home.
But there was no need, for Phillip had spotted her from his crow's nest work area, perched on the top half of the two-story main room in a sort of shelf-like corner, accessible by a pull-down set of ordinary attic stairs. "Hi, honey ... how was the shooting?"
She turned quickly, startled at hearing another voice. "Oh, you're not working!" she shouted over the din. "I was just thinking of coming up to say hello, but l didn't want to bother you!"
"Sorry, I can't hear you!"
"Turn down the stereo then, silly!" She waited for Phillip to disappear through me doorway into his private little world, then descend the stairs to the main room below. His shirt was streaked with acrylics and tempura from me day's work, though sometimes she wondered if he just doused himself with colors to look busy. Not likely, though, not for the man who'd just won the Art Director's Soho showing.
"Hi, that better," he said softly right in her ear this time.
"Mmmmmm ... much better," she purred as his hands coursed over her knotted shoulders. "You can do that all you like."
Phillip's fingers sneaked playfully down the ridge of her spine, rubbing the tiny bony protuberances as he crept toward the soft cleft of her buttocks.
"Not there, baby ... the knots are in my shoulders," she said with mock seriousness.
"Just wanted to get you in the mood, that's all."
Her ears perked up like a dog's on the trail of game. "Mood? Mood for what ... Did Valerie call?"
Phillip just went on rubbing her back and shoulders, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Well, did she? Tell me, c'mon, tell me!" she shrieked excitedly.
"Yes, she called ... and there's a party at the Leonard Melcher's tomorrow night. We're to be there at eight."
Jessica fell back into the depths of the thickly padded chair, her eyes clenched shut and a big smile on her lips. "Wow, I can hardly wait! Is Luke going to be there?" She fondly remembered her few minutes of conversation with the Dodge Company's newest producer, a tall, dark-haired man with a build on him like Tarzan.
"Yeah, and his wife, too ... you remember, the talk-show commentator, Nancy Dramar?"
She did remember ... and for a fleeting second, felt a twinge of jealousy as she thought of me voluptuous child-star turned television hostess with that luxurian redhair of hers ... and mat body! Jesus, what an enormous pair of breasts that woman had!
Phillip's hands were around her waist now, then smoothly along the sides of her trim thighs and back up under the bottom of her minidress. She purred like a kitten being stroked as his fingers kneaded the tender soft flesh of her inner thighs, then snaked under me elastic of her panties, tenderly caressing the warm moist folds of her pussy.
"Mmmmmm ... I guess I can work you in for one little quickie," she teased. "But darling ... don't wear me out. I want to be in fine shape for tomorrow. Luke has a new series coming up for the fall ... and who knows, maybe he might just be interested in little old me for a part in it!"
