"Hello, Kabo. I see you're beginning to tame the jungle."
The middle-aged Japanese turned and stared at the wife of his employer. Sara Crail, in a white dress and nylons, looked crisp and lovely amid the riotous hibiscus and bougainvillea. Her auburn hair curved about an alabaster cheek, and her brown eyes danced with amusement.
Kabo smiled. "Ah, Miss Crair...pretty bad mess here, but I fix. Take time, though."
"It will indeed. The people who used to live here really let things slide. But I'm sure you'll be equal to the task, Kabo."
"Thank you, thank you," the small man said, bobbing his head respectfully.
A familiar giddiness invaded Sara's brain, and she moved closer. "I'm sure you could handle just about any challenge." She reached out and took the gardener's hand.
She felt a jolt go through him. His eyes opened wide behind his glasses.
"Well, don't just stand there," Sara said. "Surely you know how to treat a woman. You're married, aren't you, Kabo?"
Kabo would have believed that his imperfect command of English was playing tricks on him, except for the touch of Sara's hand and the way she looked at him. He concluded that she must be crazy.
"Come on," she said, tugging at his hand. "Let's lie on this grassy spot over here."
He resisted, looking confused and frightened.
His hand, though outstretched, remained limp in her grasp.
The smile left Sara's face and she snapped, "Lie down, damn you! You work for me, and that means you have to do what I say. Understand?"
Kabo's English failed him completely, and he answered in Japanese. Though bewildered, he moved to the patch of grass and dropped to his knees as she did the same.
"Lie on your back," she commanded, and gave him a shove.
His straw hat fell off and rolled away as he settled supinely back. He stared up at her through his glasses.
Now that Sara had successfully exerted her authority and had positioned Kabo as she wanted him, she smiled again. Her excitement heightened as she placed her hand on the crotch of his dirty blue pants.
"How does that feel-huh, Kabo?" she asked as she fondled his cock and balls.
Kabo uttered another burst of Japanese. Sara's actions were so startling that he couldn't respond as he would have responded to his wife. His penis remained soft.
"You're slow," Sara complained, and unzipped his trousers. She reached in through his fly to grasp his rope-like penis, and lifted it out. She slid the foreskin back off the pale-pink glans.
Kabo groaned as she began to tug on his flaccid organ, working the foreskin up and down. But still he showed no erotic response. He kept thinking, Crazy woman!
"What the devil's the matter with you?" Sara said. "You must be frightened out of your wits. Well, I know what to do."
She bowed quickly and took the head of his penis into her mouth. She sucked on the strong-tasting glans as she circled her tongue around it. Kabo groaned again, this time with intense emotion, and his cock swelled in her mouth. The spongy glans assumed formidable size atop a suddenly rigid stalk. Sara bobbed her head, sliding her soft, wet lips suckingly up and down on the slippery column.
Kabo had closed his eyes and placed his cheek against the grass. Great thrills were coursing through him. Though this was insanity, he could live with it. He began to rock his hips, jabbing his prick into Sara's mouth.
She let go of the lunging organ, and it wobbled crazily, twitching as cool air touched it. She straightened up, reached underneath her skirt and pulled down her white silk panties. She worked them past her knees and reached behind her to tug the delicate garment off.
Holding her skirt waist-high, she climbed astride Kabo. He had opened his eyes and was staring at the furry lips of her cunt which parted to reveal an enticing pinkness. He sucked in his breath as she fitted her vulva over the head of his cock. As she let herself down slowly, his rigid rod glided upward until it was lodged to its full throbbing length inside her belly.
"Now fuck!" Sara ordered. She added, more to herself than to him, "Shit, I wonder how they say that in Japanese?"
No translation proved necessary. Kabo began to bob his hips rapidly against the ground, pumping his turgid prick up and down in Sara's twisting, bobbing, wickedly tight vagina.
Since this was one of the most daring and novel sex adventures she had ever devised, Sara was quick to approach a climax. Due to the oral buildup she had given Kabo, his resistance was equally low. They screwed heatedly for only short seconds before his geyser went off, spraying her insides with warm, thick juice. Her cunt spasmed repeatedly around his rod. A groan ripped from his mouth as she sighed.
Sara would have remained astride him and attempted to work him to a renewed erection if it weren't for the flash of sun on metal that caught her eye. A car was making its way up the long winding road to the hilltop mansion. That would be Pedro bringing the Fosters from the airport.
Sara rose, and the lips of her pussy reluctantly gave up their embrace of Kabo's meaty whang. She stood and looked down at him. "Now get this fucking garden into shape," she said. Turning, she headed back to the house.
Kabo sat up, adjusted his spectacles and muttered softly in Japanese. He put his penis inside his pants and zipped his fly. Glancing around for his hat, he noticed Sara's panties lying on the grass. In her hurry to return to the house, she had forgotten them.
Kabo picked up the panties. They were silken and soft, and he rather liked them. Standing, he put the panties into his pocket, then retrieved his hat.
He glanced toward the house, shook his head and went back to work.
Tucker Crail was seated in his study at a desk piled high with documents, books, and random notes. But the slender, middle-aged man wasn't looking at his work. His thoughtful gaze was trained on the rump of his beautiful blonde housemaid, Ingrid.
She was faced away from him, bent forward, dusting a small table. As she moved her arm, her ass waggled provocatively. Not one to pass up such a chance, he stood and moved around behind the busy girl.
Ingrid's short black skirt was elevated high at the backs of her thighs. Tucker reached underneath her skirt and touched the nylon-sheathed curves of her bottom.
Ingrid gasped and straightened quickly, turning shocked blue eyes on her employer. "Professor Crail!" she exclaimed, and tried to wriggle away from him.
He wrapped an arm around her to hold her in place while his fingers explored every curving inch of her plump young ass. The feel of her springy flesh was enhanced by the sheer, smooth nylon that clung to the shapely mounds. The writhing of her rubbery buttocks added to Tucker's excitement.
He stopped only when he felt his cock rise. Then he lifted the back of her skirt waist-high to look at her cheeks.
The sight of Ingrid's ass in pantyhose was pleasant, but Tucker preferred the special enticement of panties, and he felt cheated in not seeing slices of bare thigh. One of the sweetest sights in creation, he believed, was of smooth female flesh above snug stocking tops, with taut garter straps pressing against the cream-colored skin.
Tucker clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "After this, dear, wear a garter belt and panties," he said. "I don't like those all-in-one garments."
Ingrid considered slapping his face. She felt he had it coming. But she didn't want to jeopardize her new job over a minor incident. Anyway, she wasn't all that offended.
She straightened her clothes and asked in a proper tone, "Is there anything else, sir?"
"Not for the moment," Tucker said with a smile.
His wife entered the room just as Ingrid hurried out. "The car is coming," Sara announced.
"Ah. Now we go to work." Tucker regarded his wife critically. "Dear, you have a run in your left stocking."
"I know it," Sara said casually. "I'm going upstairs to change."
"Well, hurry. I want you to be on hand when our friends arrive."
Bill Foster and his wife, Joyce, rode in the back seat of the sleek Mercedes. In front, next to the Peruvian chauffeur, sat Joyce's sixteen-year-old sister, Stacey.
The young honey-blonde stared out the window in boredom. She had considered it bad enough to be planted with Joyce and Bill for the summer while her parents toured the fleshpots of Europe. It was the absolute limit when she learned Bill had taken a leave of absence from Newscope magazine to spend the rest of the summer in this remote place, working on some dull old project with a stuffy professor. Stacey was going to lose touch with all her friends in Connecticut and miss out on all the now things.
If she were younger, she might have been thrilled by the wild, mountainous scenery that surrounded her. If older, she might have taken a special interest in the "dull" ecology project on which her brother-in-law was about to embark. But as it was, Stacey regarded the balance of the summer as a total loss.
"Would you look at this place," said Bill with boyish enthusiasm. "It's as unspoiled as when Junipero Serra came through here and set up the missions two hundred years ago."
"It's lovely," Joyce agreed. Seven years older than her sister, Joyce wore her hair shorter and had lightened it to a champagne tint. Her figure was fuller, and she bore herself with the poise produced by two years of marriage to a man she loved.
Bill reached over and took her hand. A grin split his handsome face. "We're going to have a great summer. You know, I'm a lucky fellow to have been picked by Professor Crail for this job."
"That's what you keep telling me," Joyce said indulgently. "But I don't believe it's luck. The professor read your environmental articles in Newscope and knew you were qualified for the project. You don't give yourself enough credit, darling."
"The only thing I really deserve credit for is winning you," he said, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
Though the contact was fleeting, Joyce derived a sharp thrill from it. She always reacted to him that way. One touch and she thought about going to bed.
"What do you say, Stacey?" Joyce asked. "Don't you like this place?"
"It's fabulous," Stacey replied in a tone suggesting she was bored to tears.
Pedro Rodriguez glanced at her and thought of what a pleasure it would be to give her a fuck. He dared to hope that he might have that opportunity before the summer was over.
"I understand the professor has a son fifteen," Bill said. "He should be good company for you, Stace."
"I suppose," she drawled, but fifteen-year-old boys she knew were like children. That went also for most of the boys her own age. It took a fellow seventeen or older to turn her on.
Just before the spring school term had ended, Stacey had come close to losing her virginity to a varsity quarterback. If they had been in a bedroom instead of in his cramped car, she probably would have given in to him. But she had stopped him after he took off her panties and played for a while with the soft, down-covered lips of her pussy. How hard his cock was when she had touched it!
The car rounded a final curve, and the Fosters saw spread out before them the two-story, tiled-roof mansion where they had been invited to spend the next seven weeks. The white stucco needed paint, and the grounds were unkempt. Professor Crail had explained in his letter that he had just leased the place and had found it in a neglected state. Still, it was a stately house, commanding a magnificent view of the surrounding hills and the Pacific Ocean beyond.
Bill wondered, as he had earlier when Tucker had first invited him to bring his family to spend the summer at the large house, how a professor could afford such a lavish place. He had considered that Tucker possessed inherited wealth or had been extremely lucky with some investments.
Bill felt on top of the world as the car circled to a stop in front of the house. He looked out over miles of virgin wilderness, lying warm and peaceful under the California sun.
The door of the mansion opened, and a tall, dark-haired man came out. He wore slacks and a dark turtle-necked shirt. He had a pipe in his mouth. Tucker was in good physical trim for a man of forty-five years.
Sara followed him from the house. She had changed her torn stockings, fixed her makeup and put on panties to replace the ones she had left in the garden. It hadn't been necessary for her to change her dress as she'd been careful not to get grass stains on it. Kabo hadn't even touched it with his dirty hands. She smiled as she approached the car beside her husband.
They made a handsome couple, Bill noted as he waved a greeting. Mrs. Crail obviously was some years younger than her husband, at least ten, Bill judged.
Tucker opened the back door of the Mercedes. "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Foster!" he said jovially. "I'm Tucker Crail. This is my wife, Sara."
Bill alighted and shook Tucker's hand. "Very happy to know you, sir. I want you to meet my wife, Joyce." He helped her from the car.
Tucker's dark eyes took in the flash of long, shapely legs in sheer pantyhose. He appraised the generous bulge of titties as she stood.
"How charming you are, Mrs. Foster!" he said, taking one of her hands between both of his.
What a courtly man! she thought as she smiled and acknowledged the introduction. She liked him immediately.
Joyce exchanged greetings with Sara while Tucker helped Stacey from the car. Bill introduced them.
"Come on in, won't you?" Tucker said, turning toward the house. "You'll have to excuse the place. We don't have it completely renovated yet. But I hope you'll be comfortable here."
"I'm sure we will, sir," said Bill. "It's a marvelous location."
"Yes. A man can really work in these surroundings. Especially on the kind of work we're going to do-right, Foster?"
"Yes, sir."
"By the way," Tucker said as he opened the heavy oak door, "I see no reason to stand on formality. First names are fine with Sara and me, if you folks have no objection."
"None whatever...Tucker," Bill said.
He felt even better than ever about his new job.
"Lights out?" Joyce inquired as she approached the bed in her frilly peach-colored nightgown.
"Mmmmm," Bill said, smiling up at her.
She bent and turned off the bedside lamp, treating her husband to a brief glimpse of swooping white breasts before the room was plunged into darkness.
"Maybe we should open the drapes and let some moonlight in," he suggested.
"Along with some of that fresh sea air," Joyce added as she felt her way to the windows. "Oh, I love this place, Bill!"
"So do I. I like the Crails, too."
The heavy drapes parted to admit a widening shaft of moonlight. Joyce opened one of the casement windows.
"Tucker's an easy-going sort," she commented, "and very personable. I'm surprised. Considering the importance of this project he's working on, I expected him to be bookish and dull."
"I have to admit he's not exactly the sort I pictured, either."
Joyce turned back the covers and crawled into bed next to her husband. "He and Sara really know how to live. How about that dinner! Wasn't it delicious? Sara told me what the main dish is called, but I've forgotten." .
Bill chuckled and put his arm around her. "What you mean is, you didn't understand what she said any better than I did. Neither of us knows a word of Spanish."
"We do so! In fact, I know three or four words. Amigo, adios, buenas noches..."
"Oh, shut up," Bill said amiably, and stopped the nonsense with a kiss.
Joyce's tongue danced against his. He slid his hand up to her breasts and cupped a firm, generous mound.
"Hey..." she murmured. "You mean we're going to christen the bed on our very first night here?"
"I don't see any reason to wait. Besides, I'm in the mood."
"Let's find out." Joyce reached down between them, snaked her hand into Bill's pajamas and grasped his warm, enlarging prick. "You know your moods pretty well, mister," she said as he acquired a rigid erection.
"How's your mood coming along?" he asked, and slid the ruffled edge of her nightie down off a bulging, satiny-smooth breast.
"Mmmmm," she said as Bill twiddled her nipple, making it hard. "Does that answer your question?"
He placed his warm, moist mouth around the upstanding tip and sucked it. She stroked his hard prick lovingly.
"I know what made you horny tonight," she purred. "It was that Latin cook. Talk about big tits!"
"I like your tits best," he whispered, and uncovered the other one.
"How do you know? You've never played with Lola's." Her tone suddenly turned urgent. "Oh, darling!" she exclaimed as he lashed her nipple with a fluttering tongue.
His hand crawled down her front and caressed her pussy through her gossamer panties.
"Take them off," she said, breathing excitedly. "I want your cock. Oh, baby, fuck me hard tonight!"
He slid the panties off her and rolled over to settle between her thighs. His heavy prick whacked against her belly. Her hand went to it immediately and tilted it down until its moist tip kissed the damp petals of her vulva. With a twist of his hips he found the mouth of her eager hole, and he drove his hot cock into her all the way to his balls.
"Uuuh!" she exclaimed, and lifted her legs around him.
"like it?"
"Love it!"
"Let's fuck."
"Oh, yesss."
Supporting himself on his arms, he watched Joyce's lovely tits quiver as he stroked his rigid shaft in and out of her moist, warm, snugly circling vagina. Her legs pulled against his back, lifting her pussy to him in perfect tempo.
As Bill screwed her, he gave a fleeting thought to the cook named Lola who had worn a low-cut peasant blouse when she served their dinner. He also thought briefly of Sara, who had a certain magnetism and an enticing glint in her eyes. But mostly he just enjoyed his lovely wife.
When he came, she was with him, their bellies grinding voluptuously together as his prick spewed his seed inside her.
"Oh, that was heavenly," Joyce sighed.
"You know it, angel." Bill bent and kissed each of her thrusting nipples.
He climbed off shortly and they both were sound asleep.
"All the spadework is completed," Tucker said as he gestured toward a row of thick, bound documents which were lined up on a table in his study. "These are the reports of my task force. They were three years in the making. Everything has been authenticated. Now it just remains for us to put it in readable form."
He laughed and extended an arm around Bill's shoulders. "I should have said for you to put it in readable form. Writing isn't my forte."
"I'm anxious to get into it," Bill said.
"Well, why don't you sit down and get started? I've got to run a little errand in town. Naturally I'll want to discuss things with you as we go along, but you can start reading the material on your own. You'll find some dynamite in those pages." Tucker paused to light his pipe. "We've got the goods on some of the largest corporations in the country. They'll ass when this book hits print."
"Let's hope it arouses the public so that we get the land of laws we need to make the companies stop polluting the land."
"Amen," Tucker said, and he turned to leave. "Oh, sit at my desk if you'll be more comfortable. If you want coffee or anything, just use that buzzer." He pointed. "Lola or Ingrid will bring you what you want."
"Thanks, Tucker."
Bill pulled a chair over to the table where the reports were laid out. He intended to scan the various documents there, then perhaps move to Tucker's desk after selecting the report he wanted to read first.
He had been at the table for only a few minutes when he heard a car start and drive away. Less than a minute later, the door of the study opened.
"Keeping busy?" Sara asked with a smile as she entered the room.
Bill grinned and stood up. "I'm just getting into the subject," he said. "I see I've got a lot of work ahead of me."
Sara was wearing a miniskirt and a closefitting top which revealed the lack of a brassiere. Her nipples made dents in the clingy cloth, and, as she approached Bill, her tits vibrated teasingly.
He resumed his seat. Sara cleared a space on the table and perched her ass on it, almost directly in front of him. She crossed her legs.
Bill stared at a luscious swatch of smooth, bare skin above the top of her stockings.
"I can't understand how you and Tucker can spend so much time poring over dull papers like this," Sara said. She swung her crossed leg slowly. "I suppose it's important, but God, I'd go bananas if I couldn't find something more interesting to do."
Bill fought to keep his eyes from caressing her bare thighs, but it was a losing battle from the start. He was surprised she wasn't wearing pantyhose with such a short skirt, and also that she had positioned herself in a way which guaranteed exposure. It was almost as if she were deliberately trying to intrigue him.
He appreciated the view. Her beige stocking clung snugly to the underside of the elevated thigh, erotically dramatizing the clear, creamy skin above; her white garter straps bit into the resilient flesh. He thought about stroking that flesh...or kissing it. His cock hardened.
"I'm not in your way, am I?" Sara asked as she watched him fumble with the document he was holding.
"No." Bill cleared his throat. "I was just, uh..."
She laughed melodiously. "You're cute, you know that? Your wife's a lucky woman."
Bill didn't know what to say.
Sara lifted her leg higher and twisted slightly on the table. Bill stared at an enticing triangle of pink nylon where her thighs met.
He felt he should get away from her, but he couldn't stand up with his hard cock. Damn her! She was tormenting him, having a laugh at his expense. What sort of woman was she?
"You know, Tucker will be away for a couple of hours," Sara said. "You don't have to keep working, do you?"
"I want to," Bill managed to reply.
"Even with me here?"
He exploded. "My God, Sara, you're Tucker's wife!"
She slid from the table onto Bill's lap, her miniskirt riding to the tops of her thighs. Through her panties, she could feel his prick throbbing in his trousers. She wrapped her arms around him, drilling her pointed tits into his chest.
"Forget about Tucker," she murmured, her lips gleaming moistly. "Forget about everything."
She kissed him.
Bill was totally unprepared for the experience. He hadn't given a serious thought to making Sara or anyone else since his marriage. Joyce was the woman he loved. But with Sara on his lap, pressing herself against him, Joyce might as well have been a million miles away.
He inhaled the musky, provocative scent that Sara gave off. Her lips quivered against his, forcing his mouth open, and her tongue slithered between his teeth.
His hand dropped to her thigh, and he couldn't help but caress the top of her stocking and the smooth bare flesh above. His fingers crawled slowly up her garter strap.
Sara's tongue twisted and slid against his. Bill's tongue quivered in response. Soon they were trenching each other passionately, and his hand was stroking her hip through her silken panties.
Sara's warm breath struck his cheek in quick, excited bursts. Her tongue worked marvelously in his mouth, thrusting, gliding, fluttering, curling.
She moved her legs apart and Bill's hand skidded over the top of her thigh, following the elastic of her briefs. He pinched her warm, soft cunt through the thin nylon. His cock ached against her ass.
"I want you to fuck me," she moaned as she took her mouth from his. "Please fuck me."
"My God..." he rasped.
She dropped to the floor next to his legs and tugged at one until she was able to crawl between them. Her hands lit on his fly, quickly unzipping it and reaching inside his trousers. She held his clothes open with one hand while pulling out his big, long cock with the other.
"Oh, yesss...yesss..." she said sibilantly.
Bill could almost see her mouth water as her gleaming lips parted. She leaned close and tilted his prick toward her face, stripping the foreskin back.
"Uuuh!" he exclaimed, and a tremor rocked him as she caught his cockhead in her mouth.
He leaned back and groaned, writhing in the chair as she glided her circling lips up and down on his bone-hard shaft while her tongue lapped at the sensitive underside of his glans. He couldn't think. Resistance was impossible. He gazed dimly at her sleek, auburn coiffure bobbing up and down, catching sunbeams that came in through the windows.
But mostly he felt the touch of her lips, her tongue, the stimulating scrape of her teeth along his spiny organ, and the glorious engulfment of his glans in the depths of her warm, wet mouth as he rode her cushiony, stroking tongue.
Bill's balls churned, building up a pressure that would soon be impossible to contain. Sara showed no sign of stopping. On the contrary, she pumped her hungry mouth faster on his prick, sucking harder, her tongue going wild. She reached into his clothes to cup and knead his throbbing nuts.
It's going to happen! he thought. I can't stop it! Here...it...COMES!
He groaned savagely, arched upward on the chair and thrust his quivering prick into Sara's throat as his balls let go, shooting his cream through the barrel of his penis. His slime splashed over Sara's tonsils and slid down the walls of her throat. She gulped and gurgled, continuing to suck Bill's spewing cock. Sara rolled his balls about, coaxing them to discharge every bit of jism they contained.
Only after Bill had shot his complete load and his penis had begun to soften did she raise her head, relinquishing his wet, angry-red organ. She looked at him with glassy eyes and smiled. "Did you like that?" she asked, her voice low-pitched and hoarse.
"God!" he exclaimed, staring at her in amazement.
She extended her hand and pulled him down to the floor beside her. The Oriental rug was deep and soft. She went to work on his clothes, opening his belt and pulling his pants down, taking off his shoes and socks, removing his casual shirt and finally his shorts. She stroked his hairy chest, his firm belly and his thighs.
Straightening up, she pulled her blouse over her head, causing her titties to flip. They were good tits, Bill decided-not the equal of his wife's in fullness, but shapely nonetheless. They tapered out to firm brown points.
Sara's tits did an erotic dance as she slithered out of her skirt and panties, hauling both garments down her legs in a single sweep. Bill stared at the furry junction of her thighs and belly, made especially attractive by the stockings which encircled her thighs and by the structure of her white garter belt which framed her lower belly on three sides.
Watching Bill curiously, Sara moved her legs apart. Her pussy opened in its jungle of reddish brown hair, and Bill stared at the wet rosy slash.
"We've got lots of time to work up a fucking," Sara purred. "Why don't we get really acquainted?"
She lay back on the carpet, steepled her knees, and opened her thighs like the covers of a book. Her cunt unfurled more widely, exposing a generous display of pink flesh, coated by the oil of her lust. Her saucy clit stood up. The oval mouth of her vagina was unstuck, inviting penetration.
Bill was disconcerted. He had made occasional kissing forays to the loins of his wife and, before that, to the loins of other women. But these quick raids had consisted merely of a lick here or there, a tug on a mouthful of cunt hairs, or a kiss on the plushy top of a closed slit. He had never really hunkered down to find out what a wet, warm pussy tasted and smelled like, to immerse his lips and tongue in the female chasm. He had been curious, but he hadn't quite had the nerve to attack a cunt boldly, with the idea of possessing it thoroughly by mouth. And none of his women had ever come out and asked him to do so.
Sara was asking him to do just that. What was more, she seemed to assume he would have no objection.
Bill would have ignored the challenge and proceeded immediately to fuck her except that his cock was limp as spaghetti. He needed time to work up a new hard-on, and she knew that, damn her! He suspected she had planned things exactly this way, first placing him under "obligations" by sucking him off, then challenging him to take care of her when his only fit tools were his lips and tongue.
His pride was at stake. Sara had demonstrated her lack of inhibitions; Bill could hardly reveal himself to be more of a prude than she. And no man, upon being informed of what his lady wanted, wished to call his manhood into question by failing to satisfy her desire.
"Well?" Sara urged, smiling and looking at him expectantly as she kept her thighs wide open, her feet pulled back in front of her buttocks.
Bill bowed his head. With mixed feelings of curiosity and trepidation, he approached Sara's shrine.
She had applied perfume to the slopes of her thighs, and the musky scent mingled with the smell of her cunt, which was fresh though strong with arousal. Bill found the effect strangely stimulating. He stared at her pussy close-up, impressing on his mind the configuration of the delicate rosy folds, hair-encircled.
Bill touched an outer lip with his fingertips, wiggling the pliant flesh as he stroked its short, curling hairs. Sara was watching him with interest-and waiting not too patiently, he feared. He had the impression she was holding her breath. Everything seemed to be in a state of suspension.
He settled himself more comfortably on his elbows and placed a thumb at each side of her vulva. He stretched its outer lips all the way open, exposing their entire slick, pink inner surfaces.
He stuck out his quivering tongue and touched a slippery petal. He gave a lick and tasted. Suddenly, all his reserve crumbled away, and he began to lick Sara avidly.
"Oooh! Yes! Wowww...oh, loverrr!" she cried.
Writhing ecstatically, she rotated her wet, meaty twat against Bill's nose and mouth as he licked, sucked, and tongue-fucked her like a man suddenly gone berserk. He was wallowing in her pussy, breathing deeply of its intoxicating scent, tasting and drinking its rich nectar, and loving it as he had never believed it would be possible to do.
He let go of the outer cunt lips, and they slapped around his deep-burrowing mouth. He worked his hands under Sara's ass and grasped two handfuls of satiny buttocks as firm as those of a young girl's. Sara was slender and worked hard at maintaining her muscle tone. Her buttocks were more compact and firmer than his wife's, Bill noted.
Sara crossed her stockinged legs over his back. Tilting her pussy up, she bumped and circled the soft flowing vessel against the lapping penetrations of his tongue and the slurping suction of his lips.
Bill's cock had become a bolt, sticking upward between his belly and the carpet. His whole body roared with lust. His blood raced. His head pounded.
He raised his head and charged forward atop Sara. Her arms and legs lifted to encircle him, and she sobbed out her excitement, her eyes wild with passion. She began fucking at the touch of his prick to her pussy, and their organs merged stroke by stroke until his strong, lengthy cock was deep inside her, thrusting, driving, grinding in-her hot flesh.
Sara was full of action, her body whipping beneath him like a sapling in a gale. He fucked her with all he had, but she seemed to demand even more. Her fast-gliding cunt massaged his cock like a wondrous hand in wet velvet, squeezing and rippling up and down his stroking shaft. He panted, releasing bursts of groans.
She mewed excitedly, and said, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Bill knew they couldn't last long at this pace, but the fucking felt so good that he never wanted it to stop. He had never had so much woman in his arms or around his slashing cock.
Without slackening the pace of the frenzied copulation, he twisted atop Sara and slapped his wet, curling tongue across the tips of her jiggling titties. He clasped a nipple in the sucking circle of his lips and pulled on the rubbery stem, shaking her breast.
"Oh, God!" Sara cried. "Screw me, you bull."
"I'm fucking the...living shit out of...you now!" he panted. "What a...cunt! Oh shit your...cunt's unbe...lievable!"
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" she exhorted, digging her fingernails into his shoulders.
He moved faster yet. His cock fairly flew in her hot, clutching hole.
"I'm coming!" he roared. "Goddamn, I'm...commminnng!"
"OOOH!" Sara bawled as his cock went off inside her, spurting and twitching.
Her cunt spasmed wildly around his belching tool. Her rippling motion increased until he felt as if his prick was caught in a milking machine. At the same time her whole body undulated, her belly rising and falling against him as her stockinged legs slid against his back.
Feeling drained, he issued a final heartfelt groan and lapsed motionless atop her. "Shit!" he murmured. "Oh, shit!"
"Roll over," Sara said.
"Huh?"
"Rollover."
He raised his head to look at her. "We can't do it anymore. I'm beat."
She gave a rippling little laugh and said again, "Roll over."
He rolled. She clung to him, coming up on top without breaking their connection. But the pin which held them together had turned soft. It wiggled worm-like as she settled herself astride him. Still it remained sunk inside her.
Sitting erect and keeping the lips of her pussy firmly pressed against the coarse mat of hair at the base of his cock, Sara writhed internally, using her fine cuntal muscles to stimulate his dick. Bill watched her belly ripple, feeling the exotic massage being given him. But nothing was happening to his dong.
"I can't...get it hard again," he said, still breathing heavily. "That bout was...too hectic."
"Just relax and let me do the work," Sara said, smiling down at him wisely.
He looked at her quivering tits and at her smooth, perfect face, small-featured and intent. The curving lock of hair which lay against one cheek moved slightly with the exertions of her body. Her long lashes hung low.
Bill took hold of her tits and kneaded them slowly, working the still-stiff nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Sara's boobs were much smaller than Joyce's, but every bit as firm. They had a tapering quality which marked a pleasant change from his wife's round fullness.
"Getting the message?" Sara asked, moving her hips.
"I'm getting the message," Bill said. "But I still can't do anything about it."
"You will. Just keep thinking sexy thoughts." She smiled. "Would it help if I talked dirty?"
He chuckled. "Say anything you like."
"Come on, Mister Cock," Sara said. "Get hard so you can fuck me. Mama needs another long, hot screwing."
"Papa wishes he could do it," Bill said.
"Papa can. Papa's prick can." Sara leaned forward and ground her cunt harder. Her breasts hung directly above Bill's face. "Come on, you mother-fucking little pecker," she murmured. "Stiffen up."
He felt something begin to happen.
"Oh, Bill, it's working! Fuck! Fuck! Come on, get hard! Yesss!"
His balls ached, and his cock felt faintly sore.
But the organ was stiffening.
"Oh, it's getting big and long again!" Sara said. "You really have a fine one, Bill. We're going to have a lot of fun with it this summer."
He closed his eyes. Good God in heaven! he thought. This is madness!
Sara began to pump up and down on his cock. Bill groaned because the harder his cock got, the more his balls hurt. He simply had nothing more to put out. Sara was trying to drain him of his very life.
After a while she turned around, swiveling on his pin. Bending forward, she pumped her ass up and down vigorously. Bill watched his cock alternately disappear within her red, hair-fringed hole and appear again. He watched her ass-hole wink between the white mounds of her butt. He felt a heightening excitement. The ache in his testicles lessened.
"I'm going to crawl forward," Sara said, still screwing. "Don't break contact. Get up on your knees when I move ahead-okay?"
Bill did as she had requested, slowly pushing himself up and onto his knees. He remained joined to her body. Sara leaned farther forward, pressing, her breasts against the carpet. Bill gripped her weaving hips and began pumping his prick forward and back, fucking her dog-style.
Soon he was intensely involved, and they drove together to reach another climax. This one was a long time in coming.
Sara reached her orgasm first. As her buttocks quivered and her cunt quaked around his pumping rod, he finally came. It was a dry ejaculation that wrenched his nuts and brought as much discomfort as pleasure. But he was grateful for the release. He heaved a deep sigh as he fell forward onto Sara's back.
"That finally did it," she said, stretching out limp on the carpet.
His penis slipped out of her quim. He felt too tired to get up, but was concerned about his weight on Sara. Chivalry forced him to climb off her.
Sara smiled and chattered as she put on her clothes. She used her compact mirror to repair her makeup. Her neat, sculptured hairdo was restored by a few deft swipes of a comb. Then she gave Bill a quick kiss on the lips and left the room without a word about their sudden, cataclysmic merging.
Bill concluded that she took sex as lightly as any of life's small pleasures. To her it was like snatching a piece of candy or having a second cup of coffee after breakfast.
Bill would have liked to believe that Tucker didn't know she was promiscuous. But they had been married for more than fifteen years, so he had to know. Perhaps he was that way himself. Bill's entire attitude toward the Crails changed.
More important than that, his attitude toward himself changed as a result of what had just happened with Sara. She had made him accept sex on her terms, as a casual pleasure, without giving a thought to its effect on his life or hers, on Joyce or on Tucker. And Bill had enjoyed it tremendously.
He couldn't tell at that moment what the long-term effects would be, but he was sure they would prove significant.
Fetchingly clad in white hot-pants and a pink knitted top, Joyce was walking in the garden that surrounded the Crail mansion. The path was partially overgrown by weeds, but she managed to make her way through the tangle without scratching her pretty legs. The rampant flowering bushes were brightly decked with blooms, and she frequently stopped to admire them.
Kabo peeked around a large oleander bush which he had been pruning and studied the shapely young blonde. He wondered if she was anything like Mrs. Crail. In case she was, he decided to remain out of sight. Though giving him physical pleasure, Sara's bold approach of yesterday had gone against Kabo's Oriental grain.
Joyce's path emerged from the garden to intersect the long, winding driveway of the mansion just as Tucker arrived back from town, driving the black Mercedes. He braked the car to a quick stop.
"Fine morning, isn't it?" he said, hopping out of the vehicle.
"Just beautiful," Joyce agreed. "After living in the city for so long, it's wonderful to get out and walk around. This place is like a park."
Tucker removed the unlit pipe from his mouth and smiled. "A park that's been badly cared for, I'm afraid. But it will be back in shape before long."
"The flowers are lovely."
"Not half as lovely as you," Tucker said, and moved close to her.
A little thrill went through Joyce. Though reluctant to admit it to herself, there was something about this suave, mature man that turned her on.
She blushed. "Tucker! You shouldn't talk like that." But it was obvious that she was pleased.
He slipped his arm around her slender waist. She felt a stronger thrill, but also a sense of alarm. Accepting an intimate gesture from her husband's boss didn't seem proper, and" it might be misinterpreted. Smiling, she tried to move away from him.
But Tucker tightened his hold, drawing her quickly against his body. He laughed, and let his hand slide down across her hip onto her plump, thinly covered ass.
Joyce caught her breath. She was too startled to move as Tucker patted her fanny, letting his hand linger at the last, his fingertips stroking the crack between her buttocks. His dark eyes twinkled with pleasure.
Joyce finally stepped back, moving out of his reach. "Why did you do that?" she asked seriously.
"Because I wanted to," he said, still smiling. "Don't you ever do anything on impulse?"
"Not with a person who's married to someone else."
"You don't?" Tucker feigned surprise. "Why, that's one of the pleasures of life."
Joyce didn't know whether he was kidding or really on the make. She would have to handle him carefully, she realized. Even if he was a scoundrel-and the indication surprised her-he also was Bill's boss.
She smiled. "Give me a ride back to the house, will you, Tucker?"
"My pleasure, Joyce." He gestured toward the car.
Walking ahead of him, she sensed that he was watching her wiggling buttocks. She made a mental note not to wear thin, snug-fitting shorts again. They were just too sexy!
That evening, as she and Bill were getting ready for bed, Joyce was strongly tempted to tell him what had happened in the garden. But she decided it wouldn't be wise. Bill had to work closely with Tucker until their project was completed, and she didn't want to create friction between them. It was up to her to discourage Tucker's attentions and to do it in a tactful way, she concluded. This would be a challenge, but she felt she was up to it.
Bill was quiet. He couldn't stop thinking about what he and Sara had done that morning. As a result, he could hardly look squarely at Joyce. He didn't blame himself for getting involved with Sara, since she had forced the issue, but he blamed himself for enjoying it. His capacity for enjoying casual sex with his boss's wife, while his own wife was right in the house, continued to amaze him.
Clad in a cute pink nightgown, Joyce approached the bed. "Just about ready?" she asked Bill, who was still wearing his trousers.
"In a minute," he said.
She climbed into bed, settled herself, and watched him as he finished undressing. He turned his back before removing his shorts. Joyce wondered why he was so modest tonight.
He stepped into his pajama trousers and drew them up. He wasn't accustomed to wearing tops. As he turned off the light and walked to the windows to open the drapes, he considered whether he should approach Joyce in bed. Twelve hours had passed since his exhausting romp with Sara, and his strength was fully restored. In one way he was reluctant to touch Joyce, but in another way he wanted to do so. Repledging his devotion to her in a sexual way would make him feel easier about himself, he believed.
Joyce was in a lovey mood. She had been thinking all day about the exciting, if shocking, encounter with Tucker in the garden, and this had stimulated her. As soon as Bill climbed into bed, she turned toward him, pressing her titties against his arm. Her hand stroked his belly.
"Hey, what turned you on?" he asked, sliding an arm around her.
"You know I'm always ready," she said, and brushed her lips against his.
Always ready, yeah. But not like Sara, he thought. She's a sexual dynamo. He recalled their heated frenzy, her cock-sucking of his cock, his eating her and how she had smelled and tasted.
"You know," he said as he idly stroked Joyce's breasts, "sex has gotten into kind of a rut for us."
She was shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, we always do it the same way-either I'm on top or you are."
"How would you like us to do it," she asked testily, "hanging by our heels from a chandelier?"
"I'm serious." Though aware that he had gotten off to a bad start, Bill plunged ahead. "Variety is important, the experts say."
"Who's the expert on sex?" Joyce ridiculed.
Sara is! he thought. He blamed himself for continuing to think about her.
"Want to do it doggy style?" Joyce suggested. "We've tried that a few times, but not lately."
"I had something a little different in mind."
"Oh?"
Bill pushed back the covers and slid toward the foot of the bed. He bent and kissed Joyce's thigh, just below the lacy edge of her short nightgown.
She liked that. Bill's kissing and petting of any part of her body pleased her.
He stroked her lower leg as his moist, parted lips worked over her thigh, pushing her nightie higher. Soon he was kissing right along the edge of her ruffled bikini pants.
"Oh, hey," she said. "Mmmmmm!"
He parted her legs and snuggled between them. She smelled faintly of cologne. The scent was lighter, less erotic than the one Sara used.
Sara! He was still thinking about her, damn it!
Bill licked the soft, warm inner surfaces of Joyce's thighs, and she writhed, breathing heavily. His head grew light as he contemplated the action he was to take. He wondered if it would shock her, but decided to go ahead even if it did.
He ran his arms under her thighs and reached up to take hold of her panties. He slowly drew the frilly garment away from her hips, then along her thighs, lifting her legs in the air.
Bill's eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness by this time and, with the aid of the moonlight coming in through the windows, he enjoyed the blonde-fluffed beauty of his young wife's cunt as her legs came to rest at either side of him. He stroked Joyce's pussy hairs and wiggled the soft flesh beneath.
"Nnnn, honey, you're really getting me hot," she said.
"You haven't felt anything yet," he replied cockily, and bowed his head into the warm, sweet-smelling canyon between her upslanted thighs.
Bill brought his face close to Joyce's crotch, stuck out his tongue, and swiped it upward along the slit in her velvety flesh. She jumped.
"What's the matter?" he asked with a little laugh, as he raised his head.
"You."
"Any objections."
"I don't know."
"Let's try a little more and we'll find out."
Bill pinched the hairy portals of her vulva and drew them apart. He heard Joyce catch her breath, but she didn't move. He bent close once more, breathed in her scent and found it different from Sara's. But the fragrance was equally as enticing. Bill stuck out his tongue and began to lick the inner sides of Joyce's large cunt lips.
"Uh! Oh! Bill! Oh, God, honey!"
He felt her vibrate with excitement. He stopped licking and lifted his head. "All right?" he asked.
"Oh, heaven!"
He chuckled with satisfaction and returned to his happy task. All thoughts of Sara left his mind. He licked the insides of both of Joyce's large labia until the smooth flesh was slick with his saliva. Then he slid his tongue into Joyce's inner folds and began lapping upward across her clitoris.
"Aaah!" she exclaimed, and jumped. "Bill, what are you doooing?"
"I'm eating your pussy, angel," he said, his lips moving against her cunt. "And I'm going to eat it all up."
Joyce had no idea what accounted for the wonderful change in her husband's lovemaking habits, but she was thrilled beyond words. To be kissed down there was something she had often thought of, but she had never dared mention it. For Bill to do it of his own accord pleased her immensely.
Bill's rigidly extended tongue plowed Joyce's soft, wet, wiggling cunt, working up and down, from side to side and in rotation. He stuck his moist oral probe into the mouth of her vagina and twisted it, giving her a sensation that a prick could never impart.
As Bill fluttered the wicked instrument rapidly against the tip of her clit, Joyce shrieked with pleasure and jammed a knuckle into her mouth to stifle the sound. She didn't want Stacey, next door, to hear.
Burrowing deeper into his wife's velvet grotto, Bill worked his lips and sucked. Jolt after jolt of pleasure went through Joyce. She felt on the edge of a climax.
Suddenly, Bill stopped and lifted his head.
"Ooooh," Joyce wailed, wanting more.
Bill sprang astride her and moved forward to sit on her breasts. His stiff cock bobbed arrogantly, a thin stream of clear lubricant dangling from its tip, glistening in the sparse light.
Joyce stared at his up thrust organ. Bill had never positioned his prick so close to her face before, and she wondered what he had in mind.
"Did you like that kissing?" he asked, breathing hard.
"I loved it!" she said.
"I'd like the same thing," he told her boldly. "Bill! What are you talking about."
"I want you to kiss me the way I kissed you." She kept looking at his big prick, sticking up in the air just inches from her mouth. Oh, no! she thought. I couldn't!
"Bill, don't ask me to do that."
"Why not? I did the same thing for you."
"But that was...different. Anyway, you wanted to. Didn't you?"
The moment had been spoiled for Bill. Resentfully he backed up and knelt between Joyce's thighs. His erection had subsided a bit, but still he needed a release. He nosed his member into the soft place he had licked moments before. Pressing his hips forward, he sank his cock into Joyce.
Bill's shaft grew stiffer after he began to stroke, but his resentment of Joyce prevented him from developing his usual enthusiasm for the act. She was troubled, and this interfered with her response. They screwed lackadaisically. Only at the very end, when Bill finally began to express some zest, did Joyce feel herself nearing a release.
She reached a gentle orgasm just as Bill ejaculated. His climax was feeble in comparison to the ones he'd had with Sara.
He immediately rolled off his wife and stretched out beside her.
"Bill?"
"Yes."
"Why did you ask me to...you know."
"Forget it," he said.
"You never asked me to do it before. Why tonight?"
"I don't care to talk about it." He rolled onto his side, facing away from her.
They lay in silence for some time, entertaining their private thoughts, before sleep came.
Stacey's first two days at the Crail mansion had confirmed her gloomy expectations. There was nothing to do except lie in the sun and listen to rock music on the radio. The house had no pool, and the ocean was too far away for her to walk there to swim. She supposed she could have asked Professor Crail to have his chauffeur drive her, but the dark Latin made her uneasy. She didn't like his eyes.
The Crails' son, Derek, who was supposed to be her companion for the summer, had been away on a camping trip with friends. He was due to return this morning, but Stacey wasn't looking forward to meeting him. The company of a fifteen-year-old boy would merely add tedium to boredom, she believed.
She was lying on the patio when she heard the car drive up. She rolled onto her belly, deciding to take a final ten minutes of sun on her back before going into the house. If she had nothing else to show for the summer, she at least would leave California with a rich, glowing tan.
"Hey, wow!"
Stacey looked up. A good-looking young man in hiking togs, with brown hair hanging down to his shoulders, stood at the edge of the patio. He was grinning at her, but not like a child. His bold eyes caressed the saucy ass-cheeks that crowded the pants of her Hawaiian print bikini, then stroked her firm thighs and moved confidently to her face.
"You must be Stacey," he said, "but I don't believe it. My luck isn't that good."
Stacey removed her large, square-shaped sunglasses and sat up. "You're Derek?"
"Right on." His eyes tickled the inner slopes of her tits where her bikini bra was tied with a thin white ribbon. He smiled again quickly. "Look, I just got out of the hills, and I'm dirty as a muskrat. Give me ten minutes to shower and change and I'll be right back. We've gotta get acquainted."
"Fine," was all Stacey could say. She still hadn't gotten over her surprise at finding him so handsome and mature. But then she told herself that she should have realized the son of a sophisticated, involved man like Tucker Crail wouldn't resemble the square suburbanites she had known.
Coming to life, she leaped up, snatched her towel and tanning lotion, and hurried through the living room to the hall and up the stairs. She wanted to check her makeup and comb her hair. Also, she decided she would feel more comfortable in a minidress than in the bikini, especially if she and Derek were going to sit around and talk for a while.
Derek had disappeared into his room. Stacey entered hers and closed the door. She dropped her towel and lotion on the bed, then whipped off the top of her bikini, causing her firm young titties to flip. She pushed down the bikini pants and hopped out of them, making her tits jiggle more.
She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror. What if Derek could see me now? she thought, and blushed.
Scurrying naked about the room, she found the dress she wanted to wear and a sexy pair of boots to go with it. At the chest of drawers she paused, considering whether or not to wear pantyhose.
Deciding that her tan already looked good enough to permit her to go barelegged, she took a pair of white briefs from a drawer. A bra? Who needed it.
Inside of five minutes she was dressed. She took another two minutes to fix her hair and makeup. When she left her room, she heard the shower running behind the closed door of the hall bathroom. Feeling excited for the first time since her arrival at the Crail house, she walked downstairs.
When Derek joined her in the living room a few minutes later, she was playing pop records on the Crails' expensive stereo. He wore striped, flare-leg jeans and a blue pullover.
"I dig the Partridge Family, too," he said, gesturing toward the hi-fi. "How about the Carpenters-you like them?"
"Very much," Stacey said.
Derek grinned. "Well, we've some things in common. Hey, what happened to the bikini? That was outa sight."
She stepped to the record player and turned the volume low so they could talk more comfortably. "I'd gotten enough sun."
"Yeah, but I hadn't gotten enough of a look at you. You're all right."
She smiled at him and lifted some blonde locks over her shoulder. "Thanks."
Derek looked even better now that he was cleaned up and wearing groovy clothes. He was quite tall and slender. He had a longish, sensitive face and large brown eyes. Looking into them gave Stacey a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The young man was having a similar reaction as he studied her. Everything about her was in the right place and amounted to just enough. What a chick!
"Hey, let's sit down on the couch," he said. "Tell me about New York. That's where you're from, isn't it?"
"My sister and brother-in-law are from there," Stacey replied as she joined him on the sofa. "I live in Connecticut. But my folks went to Europe for the summer, so I've been staying with Joyce and Bill."
"Shit, I'd like to see New York," Derek said. "But Dad says it's lousy. He used to live there, and he's gone back a couple of times on trips. We lived in Los Angeles before we moved up here."
"That sounds exciting."
"Parts of it are. How's New York-the Village and all that?" He moved close to her.
"Well, I...I didn't get to see...much of the Village."
Damn! she thought. What's the matter with me? I'm acting as if I've never sat close to a boy before. Wow, Derek sure comes on strong!
He dropped his hand to her bare leg, just above her knee, and she jumped.
He chuckled. "Hey, what's the matter? Are you ticklish?"
"Well, a little." She put her hand on his, intending to gently push it away (though it certainly felt good where it was!), but Derek slid his hand out from under hers and glided it all the way up her thigh.
In excited consternation, Stacey felt his fingertips collide with her lower belly, touching it through her nylon pants. Derek put an arm around her and pulled her against him. As his lips touched hers and his tongue slid into her mouth, she felt his fingers gliding on the front of her panties, dipping down between her hot thighs, rubbing her pussy through her pants.
He's an animal! Stacey thought. Her prudishness asserted itself, overcoming her erotic response to his kiss and intimate touch. She began to struggle fiercely.
Laughing, Derek let her go, and she leaped to her feet. Her heart pounded, color suffusing her cheeks. Her whole body tingled with excitement.
"How dare you?" she demanded, glaring at him as she backed away.
"Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad. I'll bet you liked it."
"I did not!" she declared vehemently.
"Then why'd you get so excited? Hey baby, you're not cherry, are you?"
"Oh!" she exclaimed, and stamped her feet, causing her unbrassiered titties to jiggle. She turned, and, with a swish of her hips, hurried out of the room.
Derek remained on the sofa, grinning faintly, until his hard-on subsided. Then he got up and strolled upstairs, thinking that if Stacey's door was open he would pop in and follow up his advantage. But her door was closed.
The door to the main guest room stood open, however, and Derek glanced inside. He came to a sudden stop and stared at the stimulating scene that was revealed to him. A beautiful blonde woman stood in front of her dresser mirror, holding up her skirt while she adjusted her garter-less thigh-top stockings.
Derek guessed that she was Stacey's sister, and he thought that if the young one won't play, maybe the older one would. The youth had sampled several older women during the year and a half that he had been practicing sex, and he had found them more interesting, if not quite as toothsome, as the girls his own age. Especially interesting was the way they reacted to his advances.
He cleared his throat and rapped on the doorjamb. Joyce dropped her skirt and whirled around.
"Mrs. Foster?" Derek said, giving her his most winning smile.
"Why, yes." Joyce was puzzled.
"I'm Derek-Professor Crail's son. May I come in?"
"Of course!" Joyce beamed. "I'm sorry I hesitated, but I couldn't guess who you were. You look so grown-up for fifteen."
"Well, thanks." He moved up to her. "You look pretty young to be the wife of a big-time writer."
"Oh." Joyce blushed slightly. "Aren't you nice? But Bill's not so big-time, really. He's only a staff writer for Newscope."
The way Derek was looking at her made Joyce nervous. She thought him a handsome devil. And so forward. Oh, what's the matter with me? He's just a child. Fifteen!
"Let's sit down and talk," Derek suggested, and gestured casually toward the bed.
There were a couple of chairs in the room, but they weren't very comfortable. It seemed natural and innocent enough for Joyce to sit on the bed beside him. In spite of his forwardness and smooth appearance, he was only a high-school boy.
"So, how do you like California?" he began, looking intently into her blue eyes.
Joyce felt fluttery. "It's wonderful! The sunshine, the flowers, and that beautiful ocean over there-I'm going to ride down and have a look at it one of these days."
"Maybe we can go for a swim together," Derek suggested.
The idea startled the young wife. But why should it? She, Derek, and Stacey could go together while Bill was working.
"I'd like that," she said.
The youth kept looking closely at her. "Wow, Mrs. Foster, you're pretty!" he said. "Mind if I call you Joyce?" He had remembered her first name from Stacey's reference to her.
Flattered by his obviously sincere compliment, Joyce smiled. "Thank you, Derek. Of course you can call me Joyce. I want us all to be good friends."
"You and I could be real good friends, Joyce," he said, and moved closer to her.
At first the shapely blonde didn't let herself believe what his bold remark suggested. She decided he was just trying to act grown-up by following the example of his father.
Joyce was about to switch the subject to her husband's work, feeling that this would put Derek and her on a more proper conversational basis, when the youth shocked her speechless by wrapping his arms around her and pushing her onto her back, across the bed. He lay atop her, his lips bruising her mouth as he forced her soft lips open and shoved his tongue between them. His hand slid down her side, grasped her skirt and pulled it up.
Amazement gave way to a very real sense of alarm, and Joyce began to struggle. But the young man had her at a disadvantage, with her back pressed against the bed, and he was heavy enough to hold her there. At the same time, he forced a hand between her very warm, soft upper thighs, between the tops of her stockings and the lacy edges of her pants.
The responsive woman tried to deny the wave of sensual pleasure that she felt as Derek stroked the sensitive inner surfaces of her thighs, and the even more sensitive lips of her vulva through her whisper-thin nylon panties. He was just a boy, she kept telling herself. He was younger than her baby sister! She should laugh at what was happening and threaten to tell his parents if he didn't behave himself.
But he had her mouth stoppered by his lips and plunging tongue so that she couldn't say a thing, and his touch was driving her wild! She kicked and tried to throw him off, but the more she struggled the more disheveled she became and the more aggressively the youth attacked her. He dug his hand under the flimsy crotch of her panties and twisted his fingers at the slit of her cunt.
She managed to wrench her mouth away from his and to let out a frenzied cry.
He grinned and asked, "How do you like that, baby? How does that feel?" His fingers were pushing her hair-covered cunt lips inward as he forced his way into the mouth of her vagina. She thrilled.
"Don't!" she pleaded. "Oh God, don't!"
Derek laughed, and crudely twisted two fingers in her cunt, opening the passage as he infused her vulvar lips with excitement and made her glands secrete their sticky, viscous juice. Her entire body was throbbing. Her brain began to reel.
He's only a child, she kept thinking, but this wasn't how she reacted to him, either in her body or in her mind. She was on her way to giving in to the precocious youth, she feared, and she knew even as she felt herself slipping that she would have a monstrous sense of guilt if she let it happen. But what could she do?
She stared up at Derek's viciously grinning face as he raised himself and pulled his hand out of her panties. He gave her a quick twist onto her side and yanked the zipper down her back. He pulled the top of her dress down, dragging it along her arms.
"No...no!" she said, directing the protest as much to her own strongly emerging desire as to him.
"Baby, we're gonna have a great time," he told her. "It'll be a groove."
She didn't have the strength to fight him as he pulled her dress all the way down, wrenching it past the voluptuous roundness of her hips, then along and off her thighs. She wore a blue brassiere, blue flare-leg panties with lace along their edges and long stockings with self-gartering tops.
She panted, her chest rising and falling. Her blue eyes were wide open and wild. Her pink, glistening lips were parted, showing the whiteness of her teeth.
"Hey, you're some...beautiful babe," the young man panted. "Shit, you're prettier...than your baby sister."
"You can't do this!" she said. "Oh God...!"
But the sight of him looming above her, his long hair hanging down, his face so young and smoothly handsome, filled her with illicit lust. She wouldn't have believed before this shocking event began that she was capable of such a response to an adolescent. However, it was happening, and she couldn't stop it. In spite of what she had said, she didn't want it to stop
"Let's get your pants off," Derek said, and grasped the delicate garment at both sides.
Joyce felt like crying yes, but she continued to wail, though more softly, "No...no...no."
This had no more effect than she had thought it would, and Derek pulled off her panties.
"Hey, look at that pretty blonde hair," he said, and rubbed his hand up and down between her legs.
Moaning, Joyce opened her stockinged legs wider. She shut her eyes and gave herself over to the marvelous thrills that were streaming through her body. Moisture flooded her cunt. The little lips of her vulva were swollen and pushing out, opening to invite Derek's young, hot cock!
He knew he could safely leave her for a moment and cross the room to close the door. He had brought her far enough along so that she wasn't about to get off that bed and try to get away until he had done to her what they both wanted him to do.
The front of his flamboyantly striped pants pushed forward as he hurried to the door and shut it. He turned and, looking at her, stripped off his shirt, shoes and trousers. He strutted back to the bed, his cock making a monstrous hump in the front of his knitted briefs.
Joyce's brain reeled as she looked at the distention which gave proof of his aroused state. This boy, this mere boy, was going to screw her! What was more, she was going to love it! She knew she was.
He climbed into the bed with her. She whimpered and closed her eyes as he turned her onto her side. He unfastened her brassiere and peeled the garment away as he rolled her onto her back once more. Her large, lush titties quivered, their hard, pink nipples sticking up.
"Baby, you're outa sight," the youth growled, and snuggled down next to her.
His hand passed roughly across her tits, shaking them and plucking at her nipples, but what she felt most strongly was the thrust of his hard prick against her thigh. She could feel the moisture from it seeping through his briefs. In spite of his tender age, he was a man just like Bill. But her excitement was so much stronger than it usually was with her husband. She could hardly contain herself.
Groaning, Derek pushed her tits together, causing the nipples to stick up very high, and he smeared his wet lips back and forth across the thrusting, sensitive buds. His tongue stroked them maddeningly. As he writhed against her, his cock kept rubbing her leg.
Joyce caught herself consciously wanting him to take his briefs off, to bare that eager prick. She wanted to see and touch it! She wanted it to sink inside her!
For the first time in her life, she felt like a pig. But she couldn't help it. She no longer even cared.
Derek stroked her body all over-up and down, between her legs, back and forth across her titties..
When he stopped the caressing to pull down his shorts, Joyce's eyes popped open, and she became very tense. She watched the knitted fabric of his briefs bend his protrusion downward, then skid off its tip. His young cock sprang up again, exposed in all its virile glory. It was circumcised, straight and smooth as an arrow to the point where the head bulged in mushroom-like splendor. The hole at the tip of Derek's prick was wet with clear lubricant. Moisture had spread partially over the head, giving the proud knob a glazed appearance.
The youth hauled his briefs down his legs and twisted the garment off. Joyce kept watching his cock. She wanted to touch it.
Derek saw how hotly her eyes were trained on his shaft, and he grinned. He took her hand in his and wrapped it around the shank of his organ. Joyce caught her breath when she felt how very hard he was. It seemed to her that Bill's penis never got quite that brutally stiff. Derek's stalk felt like iron!
His shaft was slightly smaller than Bill's, both in length and thickness, but it certainly was big enough to do a man's job. Joyce could hardly wait to feel it inside her.
"Okay, baby, you're gonna get it," he said, breathing heavily as he swung between her thighs. "Tell me you want me to stick it in you."
At first she couldn't say anything. She wanted him to take her, but the words wouldn't come.
"Tell me," he insisted. Young though he was, it was important to him to hear her ask for his prick.
Joyce couldn't hold off any longer. "Yes, I want it!" she exclaimed. "Oh God, stick it in me!"
"So you want my screwing, huh?" he said as he grasped his tool and swabbed its head up and down her soft, wet furrow.
He drove his hard cock into her, and she squealed with delight. He immediately began to hunch up and down at a rapid rate. His bone-hard shaft rubbed her quivering clitty and the slick, warm walls of her cunt. The slippery friction sent exquisite sensations coursing through her. She writhed and moaned.
Derek's prick didn't stuff Joyce quite as fully as Bill's organ did, and the youth's fucking was more impetuous. But this very eager quality enhanced her excitement, making up for the lack of a lengthy buildup. Joyce lifted her stockinged legs in the air, forming a wide, erotic V, and she bobbed her hot pussy up and down as Derek drove his lean, rapier-like shaft in and out of her.
Her full tits shook against his hairless chest. He panted next to her ear. But his intense breathing was that of an athlete at the top of his form; there was no suggestion of tiredness. His long hair rubbed her cheek, giving her a strange sensation. And his cheek, when it touched hers, was very smooth.
The ardent youth didn't once slacken in his assault on the hot young housewife. As he approached his peak, he moved even faster.
"Ooh...ooh...ooh..." Joyce said, driving right with him. She felt herself nearing an orgasm, and she knew it was going to be a dandy!
When the first flash of completion radiated through her, and her pussy vibrated around his fast-stroking cock, she bawled, "Ooooh!"
Derek kept fucking her fast and hard. Her, orgasm built, nearly blinding her with its force. She moaned and gasped, while her cunt vibrated wildly, sending blissful tremors up through her body and down along her legs. A luscious warmth suffused her nerves and sinews. When the young man came, spurting into her with jet-like force, his cock twitching in her clutching cuntal embrace, Joyce had her final come, one so intense that momentarily it blanked out her mind. She felt as if she were soaring, weightless and free. Every ounce of tension left her. The release was total and superbly satisfying.
Derek, in his way, was no less satisfied, though this wasn't such a great event for him. He'd had older women before. Yet Joyce was fully mature and had been one of the best. She had a body that was out of sight, and she had grooved with the best of them as soon as he'd gotten started with her.
The young man pulled his prick out of her sopping vagina and climbed off.
"You really dug it," he said, grinning.
"Yes...yes," she said.
The vocal admission served as a trigger to ignite a terrible burst of guilt. How could I have done it? Joyce wondered desperately. How could I have let him, then enjoyed it so much? He's only a child, and I'm a married woman. I love Bill. Oh, God!
Derek stood and immediately began to put on his clothes. He smiled sardonically at Joyce. She was like all the others of her age he had seduced. It had been necessary only to show them his cock, to tickle them with it, and they were ready to screw. What was the matter with their men, for cripe's sake? He wondered about Bill, whom he hadn't met.
"I'll see you again, baby," the young man promised. Then, as if to add a final touch of degradation before he walked out, he said crudely, "You've got a real hot cunt on you."
For several minutes after he left the room, closing the door behind him, Joyce remained motionless on the bed.
Bill had spent most of the morning working closely with Tucker, discussing the contents of the various task-force reports.
Finally, the older man stood and stretched. "My boy got back from his camping trip a little while ago," he said, "and I think I'd better have a talk with him. You'll meet him later. He's a fine lad."
"I'm sure he is, Tucker," Bill replied. "I'll keep plowing through this material. If I have a question I'll make a note of it and ask you later."
"Do that."
The professor hadn't been gone for more than five minutes before the door of the study opened and Sara came in. She was wearing a hot-pink pants outfit with a belted tunic top. Her braless tits shoved their hard summits against the polyester knit, making dents in the malleable fabric.
"Want a quickie?" she asked, moving up to Bill.
He jumped to his feet. "Now, listen, we're both married. We can't do this any more."
"Oh, bullshit," she said, making the crude remark sound almost nice as she snuggled into Bill's arms.
The handsome, dark-haired man backed away. "I mean it, Sara. There's going to be no more of that. I love Joyce."
"Love has nothing to do with the matter," Sara said pertly. "I love Tucker, but that doesn't mean we both can't have our fun on the side."
"He has affairs, too, and you know it?" Bill asked.
"Of course. Why do you suppose he hired a couple of wenches like Ingrid and Lola? I'll admit Lola can cook up a storm, but she probably would have gotten the job even if she couldn't fry an egg. One look at her big, juicy boobs and Tucker was sold."
"But she's married to Pedro, isn't she? If I were Tucker, I'd think twice before fooling around with that guy's property. He looks as if he would just as soon shove a knife into a person as say hello."
Sara laughed. "I'm surprised at you, Bill, thinking in racial stereotypes. Just because Latins are swarthy, that doesn't mean they're potential murderers."
"I know it. But Pedro has a mean look. And as you say, his wife has those juicy boobs. I should think he'd want to guard them."
Sara cocked a well-formed eyebrow. "Maybe if my titties were bigger, you wouldn't be turning me down. Come to think of it, Joyce has big ones."
"Leave my wife's breasts out of this," he said stuffily. "And yours, too. It's just that we've got no right to fool around."
"What if Joyce gave her permission?"
Bill's brown eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. Yet. But in case Joyce didn't object to our having a little fun together, you would go for it, wouldn't you?"
"Listen, if you've got some idea about talking to her..."
"Do you think I'm crazy? I couldn't set it up. But maybe if you were to let her know there was someone else for her to make out with..."
"Tucker?" Bill asked unbelievingly.
"Never mind," the sleek brunette said, smiling wisely. "Just get back to your dry old reports for the moment. But we'll make it again, you and I-one way or another. I know you want to."
Sara gave his privates a quick, audacious caress, then turned and waggled her ass at him as she left the room.
For several minutes afterward, as Bill sat and tried to concentrate on his work, his cock continued to tingle.
"Bill, I want to leave this place," Joyce announced that night, after she and her husband had gone to bed.
"What brought that on?" he asked in amazement.
"I've decided I don't like the Crails after all. I'm afraid they're going to be a bad influence on us."
"Did Tucker make a pass at you?" he demanded.
"No," she lied. Anyway, she had almost forgotten about the incident with him. It was Derek and what they had done together that concerned her.
"Well, we can't leave here," Bill declared firmly. "My job with Tucker is very important."
"I'm not saying you have to quit working for him," Joyce pointed out. "But we don't have to live here. We can rent a place in town."
"And how will I get back and forth? I don't have a car."
"Rent one."
"Oh, sure. That, plus our house rent and food, would knock the hell out of my pay for this job. You know I had to take a cut in cash to come out here. If it wasn't for the room and board Tucker offered, I couldn't have accepted it. Joyce, be sensible, will you?"
"I'm trying to be," she said. "The Crails aren't our kind of people. They're too...sophisticated."
"We're not exactly hillbillies. We've lived in New York most of our lives."
"Yes, but with decent people."
"So now the Crails aren't even decent? Baby, what happened? I want you to tell me."
"Nothing happened," she lied again. "It's just that I've noticed things and overheard things. You should have noticed them, too."
"You're talking about Sara giving me the eye-is that it?"
Joyce looked at her husband in the dim light. "Has she been giving you the eye?"
"A little. I thought probably you noticed it. But it doesn't mean anything," he quickly added. "And if Tucker has gotten a little fresh with you, that doesn't mean anything, either. I'm sure he was only kidding around."
Joyce remained silent. It was clear to her that there was no point in discussing the matter further.
So Sara has been flirting with him, has she? Joyce thought. That really completes the sordid picture.
Recalling their negative experience of the evening before, Bill decided not to approach his wife for sex tonight. Anyway, his mind was full of Sara. He kept thinking about what she had said that morning, involving Joyce and, by implication, Tucker. He wondered if there was any connection between her innuendoes and Joyce's request to leave the place.
All Bill knew for certain was that he didn't want to leave. He tried to convince himself that practical reasons were solely responsible for his attitude, but underneath he knew better. There was Sara. And beyond her, in the shadowy recesses of his mind, he thought teasingly about Ingrid and Lola. If the household staff was fair game for Tucker-and his own wife had indicated this was so-wasn't it also fair game for him? He hadn't really gotten acquainted with them yet, but it was going to be a long summer.
"Let's have some fun tonight," Tucker suggested as he approached the bed where his wife lay nude under the covers. "How would you like me to ring for Ingrid?"
Sara eyed him. "Have you laid her yet?"
"No. I haven't really tried. I've felt her up a couple of times, though, and she went for it except for making a few puritanical noises. I suspect they were just a matter of form."
"We're liable to scare the pants off the girl," Sara said, "if we bring her in here with both of us."
"Getting the pants off her is what I have in mind," Tucker replied. "But I wouldn't worry about her being too scared. She's probably gone the trio route before. This isn't her first job."
"Well, she's your prey, darling. If she gets shocked and takes off, it will be your loss."
"Don't tell me you wouldn't like to sink your fangs into that cute, blonde-haired pussy," the slender man said with a smile. "She's just your type. Believe it or not, I had that in mind when I picked her."
"Oh, I'm sure," said Sara sarcastically.
"Let's ring her room and we'll see what happens. If she resists, I'll offer her a hundred-dollar bonus. I'm sure she's a practical girl if nothing else." Tucker touched a small ivory button which was mounted on the side of the night table.
In her downstairs room, the pretty blonde maid sat up in bed. She always slept in the raw, and the covers dropped away from her thrusting tits. The moonlight which came in through the window caressed her pink nipples which had been rubbed to erection by their contact with the bedsheet.
It was after eleven o'clock, which meant Ingrid wasn't supposed to be on duty. Under the terms of her agreement, she could have ignored the summons from her employer's bedroom. But she decided that wouldn't be wise. Then, too, a tickling little sensation convinced her that she didn't want to ignore the call. Perhaps the professor had something special in mind.
She hopped out of bed, causing her titties to bob, and hurried to the window to pull the shade before turning on the light. The tall, shapely twenty-year-old sat in front of her mirror and quickly touched up her makeup. After blotting her lips, she gave her straight, golden hair some quick swipes with a comb.
Ingrid stood and considered whether she should dress or merely go up to her employer's room in a robe. Better dress, she decided, recalling the fuss Crail had once made about her clothes. He was a garter freak.
She didn't expect anything but some fooling around. Still, that would be fun, and it would add to the security of her job. Mrs. Crail was probably downstairs watching TV, the maid guessed, or else she was fooling around with that snake-eyed chauffeur. Ingrid had noticed her once with her hand on the front of Pedro's pants.
As Ingrid got dressed, choosing white, lace-trimmed panties, black stockings, and a black garter belt, she wondered how long it would be before Crail would ask her to come across. She figured he was building up to that. She considered how much money she would dare ask for when the time came. Fifty wouldn't be unreasonable, she decided. The opportunity had never arisen in her work before, but she had talked with a friend in the same occupation who had charged her employer fifty dollars every time he wanted some nookey. And her friend was certainly no better-looking than she was.
Topping off her attire with one of the short, starched black dresses that she wore during the day, Ingrid left her room and hurried upstairs. She stopped in front of the door to her employer's bedroom, straightened her clothes and rapped softly on the wood panel.
"Come in," Tucker called.
Ingrid opened the door and entered. She was surprised to see Mrs. Crail stretched out in bed. Tucker stood next to the bed, wearing a terry cloth robe that was loosely belted. He appeared to have little or nothing on beneath it.
He smiled. "Here she is. Close the door, dear."
Wondering what was up, Ingrid followed his instruction, then approached the bed.
"Had you already retired?" the handsome, middle-aged man asked.
"Yes, sir." Ingrid smiled shyly. "But that's all right. What can I do for you, sir?"
"What can she do for us?" Tucker asked and looked at his wife. "That's really a leading question, wouldn't you say, love?"
"I would indeed," said Sara as she looked Ingrid over.
The maid began to realize that something unusual was in prospect. She hadn't bargained on Mrs. Crail's presence, and it was clear that this had to do with the summons. She glanced from Tucker to his wife and said nothing.
"We were wondering," Tucker began slowly, "whether you might like to, uh, play some games with us, Ingrid."
"Games?" A little shiver slithered along her spine. "What kind of games, sir?"
"Oh, fun games. The kind of games that are the most fun of all." He paused to let that have its effect and to give the girl a moment to prepare herself. Then he said, "Why don't we start by all getting on a more equal basis? Take your dress off, darling."
Ingrid glanced tensely at Sara. The sleek brunette smiled encouragingly.
"B-but, sir..." Ingrid said, turning her blue eyes on Tucker once more, "I...I don't think I understand."
The professor decided not to be chintzy. Thanks to the lucrative project on which he was engaged, he didn't have to be.
He stepped to the dresser, picked up his wallet and took a hundred-dollar bill out of it. He handed the money to the maid. "There you are, Ingrid. Does that make things clearer?"
She stared at the note and fingered it, as if she couldn't believe it was real. She raised her eyes to Tucker, then glanced at his wife again. Fifty for one, she thought, and a hundred to play with both of them. Well, the price is right, anyway.
Ingrid had heard about women who made out with their maids and housekeepers. But those were single women and confirmed butches. The situation that confronted Ingrid in this bedroom was a different kettle of stew.
She looked at the hundred again and thought about what she could buy with it.
"Well, dear?" Tucker asked gently. "Are you willing to go ahead?"
She became more excited, partly because of the money and partly because of the prospects that the bedroom situation presented.
"I...I suppose so," she said.
Tucker became a bit overbearing. "Don't suppose so," he said curtly, the smile leaving his face. "You do or you don't."
Ingrid raised her head higher. Her eyes flashed. "All right," she told him. "I'll do it."
He smiled, but not as warmly as before, and said, "Ah."
"Do you...want me to take off my dress?"
"I asked you to, didn't I?"
"Yes, sir." She reached for the fasteners.
"You needn't call me 'sir' tonight, Ingrid. I'm Tucker, and my wife is Sara-for tonight only." He gave a steely little laugh.
Both Crails watched closely as the lovely young maid lifted her dress and brought it over her head.
"Oh, delightful!" said Tucker. "White lace pants and black stockings-and that black garter belt! She really knows what I like, Sara."
"I dare say you've told her."
"I told her to wear panties and a garter belt, but combining black with white was her own idea. It shows she has a flair for the erotic. And look at her cute bare titties-how high and firm they stand!"
Ingrid was very ill at ease. "Wh-what do you wish me to do, sir...I mean...Tucker?"
He chuckled. "Again that leading question. Well, I'll tell you, Ingrid. For openers, because the outfit you have on is so fetching and because I can't wait any longer for some tangible satisfaction, I would like you to...suck my cock."
Tucker opened his robe, revealing his nude body beneath it. The flustered girl stared at his long, meaty penis dangling before a pair of huge, pendulous balls. He was circumcised.
"M-Mister Crail! I mean...Tucker...I...I've never..."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ingrid." He stepped up to her. "Just get down on your knees and take it in your mouth. A hundred dollars would entitle me to that service from any whore in California."
Ingrid wanted to say she wasn't that. But it would sound silly, she realized, because his hundred-dollar bill was in the pocket of her dress. She stared at his penis, the color high in her cheeks.
"Down, girl," Tucker said, and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. He exerted a gentle but firm downward pressure.
This indeed was entertaining, Sara had to admit, as she watched with a little smile on her face.
Ingrid let her knees buckle, and she felt a wild new excitement beating through her as she dropped to the carpeted floor in front of the tall, slender man. She imagined she could smell his cock when she was still a foot or so from it. She certainly could see it with shocking clarity.
"Lift it up and kiss it," Tucker instructed, his voice growing a trifle husky. "After you've gotten used to the taste and the smell, you'll be able to take it in your mouth without any trouble. Isn't that right, Sara?" He smiled at his wife.
"You bastard," she said, and chuckled.
Trembling over this new experience, and embarrassed at being asked to put on such a show in front of a man's wife, Ingrid nevertheless reached out timidly and took hold of his thick, soft cock. She lifted the organ, as Tucker had directed, and stared at its slitted tip. He pisses through there, she thought.
"Go ahead...kiss it, dear," Tucker told her. He could barely suppress the laugh that wanted to bubble forth.
Ingrid felt her mouth go dry. She parted her lips. Her pulse beat thuddingly in her ears.
Why did I agree to this? she thought. Why did I take the hundred ?
But it didn't occur to her to give the money back.
She bent and kissed Tucker on the side of his prick, feeling the spongy organ quiver against her soft lips. She breathed in the scent of the cock and found it peculiarly exhilarating. She felt a drop of moisture burst from her cunt.
Ingrid worked her lips against the side of Tucker's penis and moved them along its hose-like length.
"Lick it," Tucker said.
She swiped her moist, slightly abrasive tongue along Tucker's cock, still working its side only. "Kiss the tip," he insisted.
Ingrid leaned back and looked again at the organ. It had grown a bit, she noted, but was still fairly soft.
Oh, why not? she thought, and pursed her pink lips against the tip of his pecker.
Tucker gave a growl and pushed forward, forcing his half-hard prick past the girl's teeth and into her wet, warm mouth. Ingrid sucked in her breath, taking a deep draft of cock-smell which was almost suffocating. With it came a wild, salty tang. The feel of the thick penis in her mouth was amazing, particularly as it grew larger, its head swelling atop her tongue and the shaft stiffening to force her jaws farther apart.
Tucker reached down and flipped her projecting titties, watching them bounce. He began to move his hips in short, snappy strokes, sliding his cock in and out of Ingrid's mouth. Once he pushed too far and she gagged, but she backed up a bit and kept sucking.
Soon she accustomed herself to being fucked in the face instead of in the pussy. Though her eyes were watering and her mouth felt stuffed, she derived pleasure from the stroking of the thick shaft between her lips and the gliding of the cockhead on her sensitive tongue.
Watching the blonde-haired novice go at it, Sara became highly stimulated. It was quite a sight to see Tucker's big, horny prick pumping forward and back in the sucking circle of Ingrid's soft pink lips. He was so brown and hairy, so masculine and gross, while she was so delicate and dainty with her cheeks pale and smooth and her wide-stretched lips the color of rosebuds.
What an erotic spectacle!
Sara reached down underneath the covers and twiddled the lips of her vulva. They quickly became puffy and slick.
Tucker abruptly pulled back, jerking his cock out of Ingrid's mouth. The immense thing bobbed friskily, a gleaming strand of her saliva dangling from its tip. She looked up at him, mouth slack and eyes misty.
"Climb onto the bed, dear," he said, his voice tense but tender. "Sara will help make you comfortable."
When Ingrid got to her feet, her knees felt wobbly. She was surprised by the amount of moisture that her pussy had secreted. The delicate nylon of her panties was plastered to her puffed, sticky labia.
As the maid approached the bed, Sara threw the covers completely back, exposing her own nudity. Ingrid was apprehensive but also expectant as she climbed onto the mattress. For some time she had wondered what it would be like to make out with another woman. She had wondered how it would feel and whether she would enjoy it. The idea was rather appealing in a dreamy way, but how would it be in the flesh?
Tucker joined the two women on the bed, positioning Ingrid between Sara and himself. His cock remained hard, standing out aggressively from his hairy loins. As he lay on his side, facing Ingrid, the shaft settled against the crease where his thigh joined the trunk of his body. The head of the organ prodded the young blonde as he snuggled close to her.
Sara molded her sleek form to the slightly more voluptuous curves of her servant. She passed a hand slightly across the tips of Ingrid's breasts, then moved it down to her belly, caressing across her garter belt and the filmy pants that covered it. Though thin, the panties were opaque. As Sara caressed Ingrid's mound she felt the wiry tangle of hairs beneath the cloth. Lower, between the maid's thighs, Sara's caress encountered moisture.
"Oh, Tucker, she's dripping wet!" Sara exclaimed happily.
"Of course she is," Tucker replied, and placed his hand against Ingrid's soft crotch, next to the hand of his wife.
Ingrid felt both embarrassed and excited as her two employers stroked the crotch band of her panties at the same time. Ingrid's clit pushed up, hard and eager. Her cunt dribbled more.
"I want to do some kissing," Tucker said, and leaned over the girl.
"Mind if I join you?" Sara asked. "Just don't get in my way." Ingrid's brain grew giddy.
Tucker bent to one of the maid's shapely breasts while Sara bent to the other. Tucker's long, talented tongue licked out and swirled moistly around Ingrid's upstanding nipple. She moaned as prickles of excitement danced over her boob. Sara tickled her other nipple with the nail of an index finger, and another rash of prickles broke out. Ingrid writhed excitedly, causing her springy tits to quiver.
Tucker seized a nipple in his mouth and sucked on it slowly, stroking the firm, rubbery stem with his tongue as his lips moved against the pebbled aureole. Sara took the other nipple into her mouth. She used her tongue on it in much the same way, and Ingrid was hard put to decide which of the mouths was more pleasure-giving. She concluded they were equally delightful. And the experience of having both her tits licked and sucked at once was uniquely thrilling.
She also was pleased by the hands of Tucker and Sara, which moved simultaneously upon her thighs and belly. It was clear that a woman was capable of giving her just as much pleasure as a man could do, at least at this preliminary stage of the lovemaking. Ingrid's apprehension decreased, and she became even more curious about what was to happen next.
Tucker moved eagerly down her body, kissing and licking, while Sara kissed her on the mouth and gently fondled her breasts. A woman's lips, pressing hers, felt different from a man's. They were softer and more tender, relying on subtle stimulation of the tactile nerves instead of on bruising pressure. This worked, arousing a strong response within Ingrid. When Sara's tongue glided into her mouth, it also was more subtle in its movements than most men's tongues.
Ingrid reached up and wrapped her arms around Sara.
In the meantime, Tucker was browsing over the thin, soft fabric of Ingrid's panties. His fingers toyed with the lacy edges and petted the swaths of bare flesh between the panties and her stocking tops.
His lips moved to this area, and he licked the smooth skin as he toyed with the straps of her garters. He wedged his moist tongue beneath a garter strap and glided the tongue up and down between the snug garter and her skin.
Tucker shamelessly pressed his face into the erotically scented chasm between her thighs and kissed the wet crotch band of her panties. This stimulated Ingrid's responsive flesh beneath the thin nylon, and she unconsciously pushed her pussy against his face while Sara continued to lick in and out of her mouth and stroke her throbbing tits.
The nubile housemaid felt very close to heaven as her employers both worked her over at the same time.
Tucker raised his head, gave a signal to his wife, and urged Ingrid to turn onto her belly. She obeyed. The middle-aged man gazed with extreme pleasure at the quivery, rounded cheeks of Ingrid's delectable ass, hugged by the thin white nylon. The lacy edges of her panties slanted upward, revealing the bottom curves of her buttocks. Tucker bent and nibbled at the exposed portions of the delightful mounds. He licked Ingrid's thighs down to the tops of her stockings, then circled each creamy thigh just above the dark stocking rims.
There wasn't much to interest Sara while the girl was in this position, so the older woman scooted around her legs to snuggle down next to the hairy thighs of her husband. She seized his stiff prick and took it into her mouth.
Tucker greatly enjoyed having his cock sucked while he nuzzled, licked and petted Ingrid's smooth, firm thighs and springy buttocks. Sara was especially good at fellatio. She used her tongue in the most maddening ways and gave little jerks of her head as she sucked, evoking delight in the male.
After a while she let Tucker's cock escape, and she slid her soft lips down the underside of his shaft. She kissed and licked his balls, finally taking one in her mouth and drawing gently on it.
Tucker grasped Ingrid's pants and stripped them down, baring her white shapely buttocks in the frame of her black garter belt. He drew her panties all the way off, then ran his hands up her legs, along her stockings and abruptly off them onto soft, smooth flesh. He continued upward to grasp and knead her spongy buttocks. He spread these lovely cheeks apart and looked at the girl's tight, puckered anus. The pinkish dimple invited his kiss, and he pressed his mouth down around it, fluttering his tongue against its center.
This shocking but delightful contact made Ingrid jump, and her buttocks wobbled against Tucker's cheeks as he continued to lick and suck at her dainty ass-hole.
Taking her cue from what he was doing with Ingrid, Sara moved around to his backside and spread his lean, hairy buttocks apart. She placed her moist tongue against his dark anus and waggled it, letting her saliva leak into the sensitive crevice.
By this time Ingrid was aroused to the point where she would accept any erotic treatment that the Crails might wish to give her. The longer Tucker licked her ass-hole, while having his own bunghole stimulated by Sara, the more strongly he desired to use Ingrid's little rear aperture in a more active way.
He prepared her by screwing his tongue into the tight slit. He derived a subtle, earthy taste, and this fired him even more. He stroked his tongue in and out of Ingrid's hot little shitter, softening and relaxing the muscles as his saliva drooled inside.
"Oh, what are you doooing?" the young girl cried as luscious thrills coursed through her. She had never had her ass-hole kissed before, much less tongue-fucked, and she was going out of her mind.
When Tucker judged her ready, he raised his face from the crack of her buttocks and sprang to a kneeling position between her thighs. His long, wicked prick twitched with excitement as it rose up, wet and hard. He grasped the magic wand, tilted it down, and worked the tip into Ingrid's moist and softened anus.
He felt her sphincter tighten spastically around the tip of his cock. She looked at him over her shoulder, her blue eyes anxious.
"Just relax," he said, "and this won't hurt. You'll even like it."
"I'm afraid."
"Don't be. Go limp. Let your ass-hole swallow up my cock."
Sara watched with interest, and Ingrid tried to follow Tucker's suggestions as he began to grind and push his prick against her. But she found it very difficult to relax her anal muscles, and her ass-hole began to hurt as it was forced open by his gradual entry. The hurt increased as her sphincter was stretched wider. She moaned and sobbed but was afraid to struggle. Anyway, it would have done little good with him sprawled over her as he was.
Finally, as he kept pushing into her, the fattest part of his cockhead passed through her narrow gate, and the sphincter was allowed to contract behind his corona. The pain eased, but Ingrid still felt it.
What Tucker felt was the most blissfully clutching aperture that he had fucked in a long time, plus the squishy heat of Ingrid's rectum around his throbbing glans. Grunting passionately, he worked his iron-hard shaft deeper and deeper into her guts.
"No...no...no!" she said, for it felt as if a red-hot poker were skewering her insides.
The lustful man paid no attention to her protests, but continued to deepen his possession until his cock was shoved all the way up her ass-hole. His prick throbbed delightedly, and Ingrid felt these tremors; they seemed to go right through her. Gradually her pain subsided, but she still knew she was being fucked in a highly unnatural way.
Holding his rod deep inside her, Tucker moved a knee so that he was straddling one of her thighs. At the same time he twisted her hips, pulling her in the direction he had moved.
"Oh, nooo!" Ingrid cried, for the change of position caused another flash of pain.
But when they were settled on their sides,, the pain once more lessened.
"Dig in, my dear," Tucker said to his wife as Ingrid's pussy became available to the eagerly awaiting Sara.
The dark-haired woman snuggled down and opened Ingrid's blonde-fringed vulva with her thumbs. The housemaid's rosy cuntal flesh was dribbling with juice. Her clit was rigidly erect.
Sara lay her tongue into the soft, steamy chasm and began to lick up and down across the young woman's clitty while stimulating the nerve-ends of her labia as well. That felt so good to Ingrid that she almost forgot the pole which Tucker had thrust up her ass. But when he began to move, stroking his penis in and out, she became shockingly aware of it again. However, the hurt wasn't too bad as his slippery shaft glided up and down in her sphincter. The friction even produced a strange sort of pleasure, not un-like when a turd hangs momentarily at the gateway of the rectum, moving a little way in, then a little way out before it finally is expelled. Only this "turd" was extremely thick and hard, and it didn't just hang there for a moment. It kept sliding...sliding...in and out.. . in and out...while Sara, a few inches away, nibbled and sucked at the clitty, working her tongue around it and her teeth against the soft labial flesh.
But the fact was that she was receiving more intensely pleasurable sensations than she had ever received at one time before. Soon hurt was entirely out of the picture and she grooved wholeheartedly with the strangely wonderful experience as Tucker fucked her ass-hole while his wife gave her clit sweet hell.
The housemaid lay there unmoving for a while, trying to regain her composure. Tucker went to the adjoining bathroom to wash up. While he was there, Ingrid realized suddenly that she had to go there for a more urgent reason. She scrambled off the bed and ran for the John.
Tucker was in the shower, washing his cock, when she landed on the potty. Hot shit streamed from her. Her rectum felt as if it were on fire, and she wondered if she would ever be the same again.
Later, after Ingrid had returned to her own quarters, Tucker turned to his wife in bed and remarked, "Fun, wasn't it?"
"Delightful," Sara agreed.
They were quiet for a few moments, then she said, "You know, darling, we ought to invite the Fosters to swap with us one of these nights."
"I'd like to," he admitted. "But I'm not sure they'd go for it."
"There's only one way to find out."
"You mean, you want me to talk with Bill?"
"That would be easier than for me to talk with Joyce. She and I aren't that well acquainted."
"Joyce looks to me like a good fuck."
"Bill ought to make a good showing, too." Sara didn't want to admit that she had already seduced the young man. She and Tucker did many things together, and they kept few secrets. But this was one thing she felt she shouldn't reveal.
"I'll talk to Bill tomorrow," Tucker said. "But don't get your hopes up."
Sara smiled to herself. Bill had already proved he liked her. Joyce would be the only problem, but Bill seemed to be the sort of men who could make his wife do what he wanted. An invitation from Tucker should open the way, Sara believed.
She snuggled into a more comfortable position and in minutes was asleep.
Working alone in the study the next morning, Bill completed his reading of the task-force reports on industrial pollution. He was struck by an interesting fact: while some companies in each line of manufacturing were heavily criticized, others weren't even mentioned.
When Tucker joined him later, he inquired about this.
"Don't let it bother you," Tucker said. "If we found that a company was relatively clean, we dropped them from the reports."
Bill blinked. "But Mammoth Motors is one of the largest corporations in the country, and I know for a fact that they've been hauled into court a couple of times on pollution charges. They're not included at all."
Tucker sucked on his pipe, then blew out a stream of smoke. "Just work with what you've got there, Bill. I'm sure it's enough to keep you busy."
"Yes, but. . . "
"The task force had good reasons for writing the reports the way they did. I sat in on all decisions. Let's not go back over ground that's already been plowed."
Bill stared at his boss for a moment, then returned his attention to the reports in front of him. There was no use arguing, he decided. Tucker undoubtedly knew what he was doing, and his sincerity in the anti-pollution drive had never been questioned. He had been in the forefront of the campaign from the beginning. Still, it seemed strange to Bill that a company like Mammoth, and others, would be granted a clean bill of health by exclusion from Tucker's book.
"I want to talk to you about something else," the older man said, his tone softening.
"Sure. Fire away."
"This is, uh, rather personal. And it may be presumptuous on my part, so if I'm out of line just let me know."
Bill glanced at him curiously. "Go ahead, Tucker. There isn't anything we can't talk about."
"That's how I feel. I'm glad to know you agree." Tucker paused to light his pipe. "It has to do with, uh, the social phase of our relationship-you, your wife, Sara, and me."
Bill was more curious than ever.
Tucker smiled. "Sara and I are rather avant-garde about our social life as well as in political and sociological matters. For quite some time we've been, uh, swinging with a few selected couples in Los Angeles. Know what I mean?"
Bill was surprised, notwithstanding what Sara had told him. "Swinging means wife-swapping, doesn't it?" he said candidly.
"That's right. Have you and Joyce ever tried it?"
"No, we haven't." Bill's mind was busily at work.
"Well, it's really a lot of fun. And it can't hurt a solid marriage. It brings variety to everyone and rules out any sense of guilt. Last night Sara and I decided to invite you and Joyce to swing with us...if the idea appeals to you."
Tucker watched the young man closely, waiting for his response.
Bill gave a little laugh. "I'm not sure we're sophisticated enough to handle it."
"Oh, come on. You're from New York. That's the most sophisticated city in the world. And you're on the staff of a leading magazine. I shouldn't think your inquiring mind would be closed to any subject."
"I didn't say I was completely closed to the idea," Bill replied, and fidgeted.
Tucker took a drag on his pipe, and asked, "Want Sara to talk with her."
"No!" Bill said quickly.
"Why don't you take up the subject with her, then? Her attitude may surprise you."
"I'll think about it, Tucker," he said. "But I don't know." He gave a little laugh. "Joyce is a rather conservative girl."
"They all are at the beginning," Tucker said, his eyes sinfully knowing. "It's up to us men to, uh, broaden their outlook. Anyway, it seemed to Sara and me that a little swinging would liven up our rather dull existence here. And we both agreed that we couldn't hope to find a more attractive couple than you and Joyce to swing with."
"Well, thank you."
Bill had a lot to think about during the remainder of the day.
"Hi. Still pissed off at me?"
Stacey whirled around. She had thought she was alone in the garden, but she found herself staring at Derek, who indolently pulled at the petals of a bright red hibiscus as he grinned at her.
"Please don't use nasty words," she said primly.
"like what?" Derek asked innocently.
"like...pissed off and shit and the others things you say."
He laughed. "Gave you a boot to say them yourself, didn't it?"
"You know, for fifteen years old you're an awful wise mouth," the pretty blonde declared.
"I'm not all talk, either," the youth confided, his brown eyes twinkling. "Want to know a secret?"
"What?" Stacey replied, as though not really interested.
"I fucked your big sister yesterday."
Stacey gasped. She was too shocked to speak.
"I'm not snowing you," Derek insisted. "I really fucked her. Right up in her bedroom. She was a real good piece."
Stacey's blue eyes narrowed, and she said heatedly, "I'm going to tell Joyce exactly what you said. She'll complain to your mother, and then we'll see what happens."
Derek laughed. "She won't tell Mom. She'd be afraid it would get back to old Bill. What you don't dig is it's true."
"Derek Crail, you're a filthy, foul-mouthed liar!"
"Oh, am I? Let's go find Joyce and we'll ask her."
"I'll talk to Joyce about it, don't worry."
Derek took Stacey's arm. "I want to be there when you talk to her. Come on."
Stacey was so infuriated by the boy's audacity that she decided to take him up on the challenge. She felt that was the only way to call his bluff.
Together they entered the house and searched for Joyce.
"She's probably upstairs in her room," Derek said.
Stacey stopped and stared at him. "You don't really want to talk to her, do you."
"Shit, yes."
"Don't say 'shit'! " Stacey snapped. The youth laughed and drew her toward the stairs.
As they walked up together, Stacey began to wonder whether Derek was in his right mind. She still didn't give an ounce of credence to his bragging claim about her sister.
Stacey rapped on Joyce's door and waited. Derek grinned at her.
Joyce opened the door. She was wearing a colorful print dress. She smiled at Stacey, but her expression quickly changed when she saw Derek.
"Joyce, we want to talk with you," Stacey said.
"Both of you?"
"Derek said he wanted to be here when I told you what he just said."
"What is this all about?" Joyce asked, backing away from the door.
Stacey and Derek entered the bedroom. He closed the door behind him.
"Derek just told me," Stacey began, watching the youth instead of her sister, "that you and he...had sex. I told him that was a terrible thing to say and I was going to report it to you. Now I have, and I think you ought to tell his mother."
Derek continued to grin. When Joyce didn't say anything, Stacey glanced at her. Joyce was pale as a snow bank.
"Well, it's a filthy lie, isn't it?" Stacey said. "Call him a liar, like I did."
Still Joyce didn't say anything. She turned and her legs nearly crumpled beneath her as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Joyce!" said her baby sister. "For Pete's sake!"
"This boy is...a monster!" Joyce said, her voice shaking.
"Well, that's what I told him. But you can fix him good by talking to his mother."
"I.. . I can't do that."
"Why not?"
Joyce looked down. Her voice was barely audible when she replied, "Because what he said is true."
"See there?" Derek retorted. "What did I tell you?"
Stacey felt weak. She sat down on the bed next to her sister. "For God's sake, Joyce!"
"I know.. . I know," Joyce said miserably. Looking down, she rubbed her forehead.
"He raped you, is that it?" Stacey asked in shocked tones.
Joyce remained silent. She was too honest to claim that it was rape. Before it had started, she had asked him for it. And she'd had a chance to get away if she'd wanted to do so.
"She can't say it was rape," Derek spoke up, "because she wanted it as much as I did. We caught each other's vibes."
Stacey had never been so astonished...or so morally shocked. She glanced from her sister, who was suffering intensely, to the youth who stood grinning down at them. She didn't know what to say.
Derek filled the void. "Now that we all understand one another, let's have some fun. I'd like to groove with both you chicks at the same time."
Joyce raised her head. Her eyes flashed. "You're out of your mind! Stacey's a virgin."
"So I figured from the way she turned me off yesterday," he said. "But she's gotta make it sometime. Why not right now?"
Joyce leaped to her feet. "Get out of here!"
The young man stood his ground and shook his head, smiling wisely. "You can't order me around, baby. I've got you right by the titties, whether you know it or not. If you don't do what I say, I'll tell your husband about us. That'll break up your sweet little marriage."
Joyce gasped. She had never known a person like this, and the fact that he was just a child made his depravity all the more amazing.
"Tell your baby sister to take her clothes off," Derek went on. "Then you can do the same."
"I won't!" Joyce declared, her cheeks becoming flushed. "You can tell Bill if you want to. I won't let Stacey sacrifice herself."
The younger girl stood up. "You can't let Bill find out. That would ruin your life. It isn't your fault what happened with this...this rat. There's nothing to do but for me to give in to him."
"No Stacey!" Joyce said. "I won't let you."
"I'm going to do it," the blonde declared, quickly opening the fasteners on her blouse. "As he said, I've gotta get over being a virgin some day. It doesn't make much difference, I guess, whether it happens now or later. Since you gave in to him, I suppose I can too."
"No!" Joyce exclaimed again, and tried to keep her sister from taking off her blouse.
But the garment was already coming over Stacey's head. As she writhed out of it, the top-swells of her titties shook above the low-cut rims of her bra cups.
Joyce was in such an anguished mental state that she couldn't form an argument. She honestly didn't know what was right. She could try to restrain her sister physically, but Derek would be-likely to jump in and the fuss would probably attract someone from elsewhere in the house.
She merely stared, as shocked as Stacey had been a few moments before, while the younger girl kicked out of her shorts. In pink nylon panties and white bra, Stacey lay down on the bed.
Derek was pulling off his clothes, and Stacey watched him. She was uptight with sexual excitement. This was her chance to find out what it was all about without assuming a moral responsibility for the act. She was helping to save her sister's marriage, and that was certainly a worthy cause. As for Derek, she hated him in one way, but in another she found him terribly attractive.
The room seemed to sway before Joyce's eyes. She felt powerless to stop the awful thing that was about to take place. This was how she had felt the day before, when Derek had jumped her.
The youth drew down his pants, revealing a hump in the front of his knitted briefs where his cock pressed. Both females watched him. He took his shorts away, and his prick sprang to eager attention, tilting almost straight up, against his belly. His virtually hairless balls were exposed at the base of his shaft. He had a sparse tuft of hair above his cock.
Stacey's cunt salivated wildly. She had never seen a boy's prick before, and the sight of Derek's, all hard and ready, made her want to take her pants off and throw her legs open wide. But she wasn't going to remove her pants. Derek would have to do it. She wasn't, after all, giving in to him of her own accord!
Derek strode to the bed, conscious of Joyce's eyes on him, as well as of Stacey's.
"Hey, what have you still got your underwear on for?" he asked the reclining girl. He stood beside the bed and looked down at her, his cock standing high.
What a thing! Stacey thought. It had her hypnotized.
"Shit!" he exclaimed when she failed to answer him. He reached down and grasped her pants, pulling them off her in a single sweep.
The hair on Stacey's cunt was light and fluffy. Derek put his hand on it and rubbed downward along her lips until his hand was deeply sunk between her thighs.
"Ooh, wowww!" Stacey said, and flung her legs open wide.
"Take your bra off," the youth told her. "I want to see your tits."
"You take it off," Stacey said, and rolled onto her side.
He reached down, wrenched the hooks open, and pulled the bra away. Her titties quivered, then jiggled as she settled on her back again.
"They're smaller than your sister's," Derek said. "Joyce here has a real set of jugs!"
Joyce heard it as if she were listening to voices in a dream. She watched with the same sense of unreality as Derek mounted her virginal sister. He grasped his extremely virile cock and tilted it down to the split of Stacey's wet, pink vulva. Joyce saw the head of his penis dig inside.
Stacey gasped. Pain enveloped her. Then suddenly the pain receded, and she was aware of a bone-hard presence gliding into her, filling the cavity which had never seemed like a cavity before. What a feeling that was!
Derek began to fuck, pumping his hairless hips briskly. From the side, Joyce watched his cock gliding in and out of her sister's circling cunt mouth. There were flecks of red on the shaft.
Stacey moaned with rapture and lifted her legs. Oh God, it's wonderful! she thought. I'm grooving! Oh, it's out of sight!
Without really knowing how to move, she nevertheless bobbed her pussy against the youth's fucking thrusts, causing her titties to vibrate against his chest. She bicycled her legs in the air.
Watching, Joyce rubbed her own vulva through her clothes. Suddenly she knew she would have to get in on the action. God help her, she couldn't just stand there and watch it and not do something herself!
She began to disrobe.
Derek turned his head in order to glance at the blonde housewife as he continued to screw her younger sister. He watched Joyce's dress come up, revealing pantyhose with white briefs underneath, then a white brassiere which was more heavily laden than Stacey's had been. Looking at Joyce, he fucked Stacey harder.
Joyce took off her bra, unleashing her rich, wobbly tits which, in spite of their size, remained thrillingly erect. Returning the youth's gaze with hot eyes, Joyce hooked her thumbs around the top of her pantyhose and whisked the garment down. She bowed her tousled blonde head, and her breasts tumbled forward to hang quivering as she stripped the pantyhose from her legs. She shucked down her briefs, revealing a pussy which bore a heavier coat of fur than Stacey's, and the pelt was several shades darker than the hair on her own head.
"Uh...uh...uh..." Stacey was panting as Derek drove his hot prick in and out of her. Something was happening inside her that she didn't understand. She felt her nerves growing taut. She seemed to be strangling for breath.
Then suddenly all Stacey's tension gave way, and she moaned with delight as a wave of blissful warmth swept through her. That felt more wonderful than anything she had ever imagined. She hugged Derek.
The youth suddenly went rigid, his cock twitching deep in her vagina. She felt moisture burst from it in spurts, and she experienced another wave of orgasm.
Joyce was climbing onto the bed beside the blissfully locked pair. She began to kiss Derek on the cheek and shoulder, then along his back.
He looked at her and grinned. "Your turn now, baby."
He pulled out of Stacey and faced her more mature sister. Grasping one of Joyce's full tits, he lifted it to his lips. As he sucked at her nipple, she took hold of his wet, sticky cock. The organ was soft.
Get it hard! she thought. Oh, I need it right now!
She began to tug at the penis, but it was like a piece of rope. Then she remembered what Bill had asked her to do for him the other night. He had acted as if he had wanted that very much. Perhaps if she were to do it for Derek, she thought, it would make him hard.
Joyce writhed out of the young man's grasp, jerking her nipple from his sucking mouth, and dived at his wet, wild-smelling loins. She didn't let herself think about the scent or the fact that Derek was slimy with his and Stacey's juice. Nothing mattered except to put him into condition to fuck her right away.
When Joyce took his cock into her mouth and began to suck on the spongy, cum-coated knob, Derek gave a groan and lay back. This marvelous experience had happened to him only once before, and that was with his parents' French maid in Los Angeles. Derek had gotten so excited when Marie went down on him that he had ejaculated in her mouth. Marie had swallowed his semen and hadn't seemed to mind, but the occurrence had unnerved Derek and he had avoided a repetition of it. However, now that he was temporarily depleted, he felt it would be safe to let Joyce suck him for a while, especially since it felt so good!
Having never been instructed in the art of fellatio, Joyce responded solely to instinct. She sucked hard, working her lips around the limber stalk of the adolescent's penis and flapping her tongue across the head, which bobbed in her mouth. The taste and smell of Derek's well-used cock flooded her senses, and, surprisingly, these stimuli excited her all the more. Feeling that she had to express her passion in a more active way, she began to pump her blonde head up and down, tugging at the flaccid dong.
"Oh, shit!" exclaimed Derek. "Wow!" He writhed, his young nuts churning.
Stacey watched the amazing spectacle with wide eyes.
Joyce's very active motions drew a fresh flow of blood into Derek's prick, and the organ quickly stiffened. In moments the young wife found herself sucking a dick that was thick and hard with lust. The head crowded her mouth, pushing against her palate and her tongue.
Finally she let go of it with a sucking Pop! She scrambled on top of Derek and tilted his horny organ into her dribbling unfurled cunt.
Joyce bounced up and down, tits bobbing, as she screwed the young man eagerly. He reached up and grasped her large, resilient boobs. He squeezed them and pulled at the nipples.
"Oh, baby!" he said. "Wow! Oh, shit, can you fuck!"
"Drive it into me!" Joyce panted. "Give me all you've got!"
Derek lunged upward, spearing her bobbing, twisting pussy to its molten depths. Joyce rode him with utter abandon, writhing delightedly around his strong, up-thrust cock. She swung her head. Her titties danced.
Finally she leaned forward to gain greater friction on her clit, and her breasts flopped heavily against Derek. He grasped a luscious boob and pulled its thrusting nipple to his lips. He sucked and bit on it as Joyce moaned and screwed him hard.
The juice bubbled up from his jumbucks, squirting ecstatically into her, and she came with an intense flurry of spontaneous motion. Her whole body quaked and rippled as her cunt convulsed spastically around the youth's twitching prick.
It was done.
Joyce was tense and uncommunicative during dinner, and immediately afterward she went upstairs. Bill followed her to their bedroom.
"What's the matter, honey?" he asked as he entered the room.
She was standing at the window, gazing out into the gathering darkness. "I want to leave here, Bill," she told him without turning around. "Please let's look for a place to live in town."
"Goddamn it, Joyce, I told you we can't do that! What the devil's the matter anyway?"
She started to cry, and he moved up behind her. But at his touch, she twisted away.
"Has Tucker been saying things to you?" Bill demanded.
She sniffled. "No."
"Has Sara?"
"No."
"Then for God's sake, what set you off?"
She turned to face him, her eyes red and anguished. "I just don't like it here. I told you that before. It isn't a good atmosphere for either Stacey or me."
Bill stared at her as if she were speaking a language he couldn't comprehend. "Joyce, you've got to tell me what the problem is. We can't grapple with ghosts."
She averted her eyes. "I can't tell you. I just want to leave, that's all."
He lost patience with her. "Well, it's out of the question. Now get hold of yourself. Maybe you should go to bed early and get a good night's sleep.
In the morning, if you can make some sense, we'll talk."
He turned and left the room. When he arrived downstairs, Tucker was in his study and Sara sat alone in the living room.
"What's the matter with Joyce?" the dark-haired woman asked.
"She isn't feeling well," Bill said.
Sara got up and walked over to him. "You know, I was hoping we might swing tonight. Tucker told me he discussed it with you."
"I'm afraid that's out. Joyce would never agree."
Sara ran a finger along the front of his shirt. "How do you know if you haven't asked her?"
"I just know, that's all," he said, backing away.
Sara's dark eyes narrowed as she studied him. But she didn't say anything.
Bill turned and left, deciding to go for a walk in the garden.
Later, when he went up to bed, Joyce was asleep. He didn't awaken her. He lay in the dark for some time, thinking about the strange attitude she had taken toward the Crails. Then his thoughts shifted to the mate-swapping proposition and, more specifically, to Sara. He had been hoping he might convince Joyce to give the swapping a try, at least once. But that prospect seemed dead, if indeed it had ever existed at all.
He considered having another fling with Sara on his own. She would go for it, he believed, but it would be especially risky with Joyce already upset and Tucker thinking in terms of a swap.
The outlook was for a difficult summer.
"I asked Bill about the swap," Sara reported when she joined her husband in his study.
Tucker looked up from his desk. "What did he say?"
"It's out. He's sure Joyce wouldn't agree, and he won't even talk to her about it."
"He may be right," Tucker said, recalling his experience in the garden with the pretty blonde. "Some women require a special sort of persuasion."
Sara cocked an eyebrow. "You have something in mind?"
Tucker smiled, opened a drawer of his desk and removed a small bottle of white powder. "Remember this?" he asked, giving it a shake.
Sara's eyes lit up. "Is that the stuff you got in Beirut last year?"
He nodded.
"I thought we'd used it up at the party we threw for the Harrisons." Sara snatched the bottle and estimated its contents. "Oh, there's plenty here, Tucker!"
"There's enough to get us all high and then some," he said. "And if you'll recall, my pet, that's the best high there is. It beats booze, pot, or anything."
"God, yes!" Sara said, and chuckled. "I must have screwed every man in the room last time."
"Everyone was screwing everyone as I recall." Tucker stood up and took the bottle from his wife. "I believe I'll have a little chat with Lola."
"Can you trust her with it?"
"We'll find out," Tucker said, and left the room.
The South American cook was tidying up the kitchen when Tucker walked in. He paused and surveyed her figure from the rear. At twenty-six, Lola Rodriguez had a generous and shapely ass. Its cheeks were so well delineated by her white uniform that Tucker could make out the leg elastics of her panties which slanted up across the full, firm mounds. The snugness of the skirt indicated equally voluptuous thighs. Her waist was slender enough. Coal-black hair lay in graceful waves against her shoulders.
Tucker moved up behind her, extended his hands forward at her sides and grasped the charms which hadn't been visible to him a moment ago but which were perhaps her finest features of all. As the presumptuous man wrapped his lean, strong hands around Lola's cantaloupe-sized tits, she gasped. Laughing, he held on, squeezing the luscious globes. He felt her big nipples stiffen inside her bra.
"Senorl" she exclaimed. "You shouldn't do that." Her accent was slight because she had learned English at school in Lima and had worked for an American family there before emigrating to the United States.
"Why shouldn't I?" Tucker chuckled, and kept squeezing, causing her nipples to swell even larger. Her buttocks rubbed against the front of his trousers as she writhed.
"I have a husband," she warned.
"Yes, but he isn't here now, is he?"
Tucker took his hands away and let her turn to face him. "There's something I want you to do for me, Lola," he said, his tone becoming serious as he took the bottle of aphrodisiac from his pocket. A sly twinkle came to his eyes. "Tomorrow night when you're preparing dinner..."
Joyce awakened early the next morning and was gone from the bedroom by the time Bill woke up.
At first he feared she might have packed and moved out, but a check of the closet revealed that her clothes were still there. She merely had wanted to avoid a confrontation, he judged.
Bill decided he could hold out as long as she could, believing that eventually she would have to level with him about what was bothering her.
At breakfast Joyce was as unresponsive as she had been during dinner the night before. Bill didn't press her. Stacey was particularly animated, he noticed. The young girl seemed happier than at any time since they had arrived at the Crails' home.
Bill wished he could say the same for himself as he began work.
The day dragged. Sara remained away from the study. Tucker seemed preoccupied, though his manner was pleasant enough.
When the workday finally was over and it was time to get ready for dinner, Bill and Joyce met briefly in their room. However, she refused to talk with him, indicating that her attitude had, if anything, hardened since last night. He had an urge to take her across his knee and give her a spanking, anything to shock her out of her reticent, resentful state. But he restrained himself. Better not risk making matters worse, he decided.
Stacey and Derek weren't present for dinner, Pedro having driven them to visit friends of the Crails who had teenage children. Except for the youngsters' absence, the meal began in the usual way. The food was tasty and the wine was an excellent vintage. The conversation was pleasant, although Joyce didn't have much to say, responding to Tucker and Sara only when they spoke directly to her.
Shortly after the diners began sipping their coffee, however, changes in their attitude and actions occurred. Bill noticed that Sara became tense, eyeing him. Tucker grew flushed and spoke more rapidly, as if he were on edge. Even Joyce seemed nervous, casting quick glances about.
Bill wasn't sure whether he had caught it from the others or if there was a more basic explanation, but he too began to feel strange. At first, he merely was uneasy. Then he started to itch, but the itch was like none he had ever experienced before. It seemed to center in his sexual region, and he developed an overpowering urge to have intercourse. As he looked across the table at Sara, his cock suddenly hardened.
By that time the sleek brunette was squirming on her chair. She extended her foot underneath the table and touched Bill. A shock went through him, and his prick throbbed harder.
My God, he thought, what's the matter with me?
He glanced at his wife and saw that her cheeks were rosy. Her mouth had become slack, and her eyes were slightly glazed.
"Let's finish our coffee," Tucker said in a strangely tense voice. "Then we'll go into the other room where we can be more comfortable."
It occurred to Bill that nothing could make him comfortable but to fuck the hell out of Tucker's wife, and he wasn't sure even that would do it. He had never felt so horny in his life.
The diners finished their coffee quickly and stood up. Joyce was amazed by the moistness of her vulva for no apparent reason. Her clitoris was tingling like mad! Bill's erection made a hump in the front of his trousers, and this embarrassed him until he noticed that Tucker was suffering from the same condition.
It's a mad contagion, Bill decided.
As the four walked into the living room, Tucker laughed and put his arm around Joyce's waist. Instead of being offended and resisting the intimate gesture as she had done the other day in the garden, she slumped compliantly against him. Sara snuggled up to Bill.
"My sweet baby," Tucker said, and kissed Joyce.
Bill and Sara watched.
"It's swap time, lover," the sophisticated brunette purred, and she placed her hand just below his belt. "Joyce will go for it now."
"What's happened to her?" Bill asked. "What's happened to all of us?"
"I'll tell you later. But it's nothing to worry about. For now let's just enjoy."
Joyce was enjoying Tucker's embrace and the gentle caressing of his lips and tongue. The enjoyment was so intense that she couldn't push him away. Though she knew she shouldn't, she wanted to fall onto her back and open her legs to him. Her cunt was hot and wet.
Watching her submit to the middle-aged man, Bill became convinced. He yas at a loss to explain it, just as he had been unable to explain the aversion to the Crails which Joyce had previously expressed. But Sara apparently knew the reason for what was happening. Perhaps she was responsible for it.
Sara began to caress Bill's privates through his clothes, and the last measure of his resistance crumbled away. He pulled her into his arms. His hot mouth covered hers. Their lips were widely parted, and their tongues stroked liquidly.
Tucker watched this over Joyce's shoulder. Concluding that Bill would offer no trouble, he boldly pulled up Joyce's skirt and wrapped his hands around the nylon-sheathed cheeks of her bottom. A new burst of heat enveloped her. In abject need, she surrendered completely. Moaning, she slithered her tongue into Tucker's mouth. Her brain reeled.
Lola, who had doped the coffee, stood at the edge of the archway between the dining room and living room. She watched with hot eyes as the Crails and Fosters paired off with each other's spouses.
Pedro, after looking for her in the kitchen, saw her spying and moved up behind her. "Woman!" he whispered harshly, "come away from there."
"They are getting ready to do it," she whispered back, in Spanish. "The powder is working."
"What are you talking about?"
She turned to face her husband and drew him away from the doorway. "It is something I put in the coffee. Senor Crail told me to do it. The powder has made them very hot."
"Did we drink that coffee, too?" Pedro asked.
"Of course not."
"Is there any of it left?" A wicked gleam came into the chauffeur's dark eyes. "I believe so."
"Come. We will try it."
"No! That is wrong."
"I want to try it," he insisted, and dragged Lola along.
As Tucker guided Joyce down onto the sofa, she glimpsed at Bill and Sara caressing each other while they kissed. How terrible! she thought, but she couldn't stop them any more than she could keep
Tucker from urging her onto her back and unbuttoning her blouse.
They all were lost, she decided. This was what she had feared would happen if she and Bill remained in the Crails' house. But she no longer wanted to prevent it.
Tucker pressed his lean face against one of the enticing bulges that rose above the rim of her low-cut brassiere. His lips moved moistly and thrillingly against the sensitive skin. Joyce wanted him to liberate the breast and suck her tingling nipple.
The professor proved that this was exactly what he had in mind, gathering as much of the luscious booby as his hand could encompass and lifting the springy globe out of the bra. Joyce's nipple thrust up, full and pink. Groaning, Tucker stuck out his tongue and swabbed the moist meat over Joyce's rigidly responsive bud.
"Aaah!" she said, and impulsively clutched the back of his head. She pulled him hard against the crest of her titty.
Her senses soared as Tucker sucked and licked her breast. His hand shoehorned her other tit up over the edge of the brassiere, and he moved to that one, first licking the nipple, then sucking it gently. He tugged on the rubbery stem, let it go with a pop, and watched her full breast quiver.
"Do you want me to fuck you, darling?" he asked as he continued to suck and caress her tits.
"Yesss. Oh, yesss."
"You don't mind if Bill fucks Sara, do you."
"No."
Was it me saying that? she wondered giddily, because a part of her mind still wouldn't accept the truth of what was happening. But her senses couldn't deny the glory of it.
Sara had dropped to her knees in front of Bill. She was tugging down his trousers and shorts. His horny prick leaped free, standing high and hard. It felt very good to him to have his aching organ out at last.
It felt even better in another moment when Sara grasped his shaft, tilted it down slightly, and enveloped the throbbing cockhead in her mouth. At first she sucked his cock with its foreskin only partially retracted. But as she held the glans in her wet warm mouth, her circling fingers moved on the shaft, drawing the foreskin all the way back. Her saliva bathed Bill's entire naked cockhead. Her tongue curled teasingly around the rim. Her soft lips moved suckingly against the fattest part of the glans and her teeth gently scraped the sensitive flesh.
Bill groaned as he writhed on the balls of his feet. His overpowering lust demanded that he thrust his prick forward and back in Sara's mouth, and he began to do this. Experienced fellatrice that she was, Sara adapted herself to his fucking movements, adding a hunching motion of her own.
Through a passionate haze, Joyce watched her husband and Tucker's wife engaged in this shocking foreplay. She recalled she had refused to do it for him. But Sara hadn't hesitated. Joyce had done it for Derek, and she had found the activity not half as bad as she had feared. Bad? She had loved it! She felt a sudden overpowering desire to do it with Tucker.
Twisting out from under the kisses that the older man had been lavishing on her full, shapely breasts, she sat up, titties quivering. She made an extremely wanton picture with her blouse hanging limp from her shoulders and her large breasts forced upward, above the tops of her bra cups. Her nipples had gone from pink to a deep rosy shade, and they were wet with Tucker's saliva. The nubs of erectile tissue thrust urgently out and upward.
Joyce remained seated for only a moment as she took in the sight of her husband stroking his cock in and out of Sara's mouth. Then she twisted on the couch and leaned forward, attacking the zipper of Tucker's fly.
He stood up. Joyce reached into his clothes, grasped the warm, semi-rigid column of his cock and whipped the lengthy organ into view. Its scent titillated her nostrils, and the sight of it-huge and red, but still limber-added to her passion. She opened her pink, dainty mouth.
"That's it, my darling," Tucker crooned as he watched her. "Suck my cock like a good girl."
Her curly head swooped down, her mouth went wide and she drove her circling lips down the shaft of his penis until the cockhead plugged her throat and she gagged. Lifting her head suddenly, Tucker's prick escaped, and the wet, red thing waved to and fro, slapping her cheeks as she frantically sought to recapture it. The fat glans rubbed wetly and fragrantly across her nose.
"I love it...I love it!" she babbled, out of her mind with lust.
Tucker's prick had stiffened to almost a full erection, and when Joyce once more enclosed the head of it in her mouth she noticed how much more rigid the shaft was. She didn't have to hold it with her hand to keep the cock at a good sucking angle. She began to work her mouth up and down on it, her lips gliding on a slippery film of saliva and cock honey. Watching her pink lips move on his shaft and feeling the magnificent sensations imparted by her lips and teeth and tongue-which were not as skillful as Sara's, but were even more exciting because they belonged to Joyce-Tucker quickly developed a total hard-on, his shaft becoming firm as bone and his glans swelling to mouth-filling dimensions.
Joyce champed on the huge chunk of meat as she sucked. Her saliva flowed so copiously that some drooled out of her mouth and down her chin.
Bill glanced her way and was at first shocked to see his young wife doing with Tucker what she had refused to do for him the other night. He credited the power of example for her conversion. She had watched Sara go down on him, and that had set her off. Good! He didn't begrudge Tucker getting his cock sucked by her, because he knew he would soon have the pleasure himself. And in the meantime, he was enjoying the same treatment from Tucker's cocksucking wife.
"Caramba!" Pedro muttered as he returned to the doorway with Lola and saw what was happening in the living room.
Lola stared. Her cunt was getting very hot from the effects of the drugged coffee, and she had a tremendous urge to rush into the room and join the reveling Crails and Fosters.
Pedro quickly acquired a wicked hard-on. Though conscious of his position as a servant, he had the wisdom to realize that on such a night as this all standards were down. He gave only a brief thought to the prospect of having to share his wife with the Crails and Fosters in order to participate in the swap party. Any regrets on this score were quickly outweighed by the benefits he stood to gain. That blonde Foster woman was almost as luscious as her teenage sister. And Mrs. Crail, Pedro judged, was a piece of ass in a million. He would do it!
"Come on," he said to Lola, grasping her by the arm, "we're going in there."
"Estds locoV she asked in alarm. But she wanted to do it as strongly as he.
"It will be all right," he assured her in a husky voice.
Eyes glinting and cock hard, the lean, swarthy chauffeur led his voluptuous, black-haired wife into the room.
Tucker looked at them and smiled. "Welcome!" he said, heartily as Joyce continued to suck his cock. "Relax and join us."
Bill thought, My God, even the servants are getting into this! Look at the tits on that Lola! His dick gave a twitch in Sara's gliding, sucking mouth.
Sara cocked an eye at the new arrivals. At last she was going to get that Latin Lover, it seemed.
Joyce didn't even look up. She just kept sucking Tucker's prick, moving her head in long, looping strokes now that she had gotten used to the feel of his large, rigid organ in her mouth. She no longer gagged when his cock forged into the entrance of her throat. She thought only of its delicious taste and stimulating friction against her lips and tongue...
Watching her horny husband struggling out of his clothes spurred Lola on to disrobe. She hurriedly unbuttoned the front of her white uniform, took it off, then let down her white half-slip and unleashed her mammoth breasts from her matching bra. This left her in white briefs, beige stockings, and a white garter belt.
The sight of the lovely Latin standing there in her scanties with her super tits exposed caused a tremor to pass through Bill's body. He suddenly pulled back, withdrawing his prick from Sara's mouth, because he feared an accident if he left it there any longer.
Tucker too was visually devouring Lola's lavish beauty. But he permitted Joyce to continue sucking his cock. Much experience in all forms of sex with many women had fostered in Tucker an uncanny degree of control. He never climaxed before he was fully ready to do so, regardless of the stimuli to which he was subjected.
Pedro whisked down his shorts and his startling prick bounced free. Long and lean, the organ bowed upward at the tip, suggesting to a woman that it could wedge right into her uterus when properly applied.
Much as she had been looking forward to getting fucked by Bill for a second time, Sara decided he could wait. She wanted the horny South American first.
She popped to her feet and, still fully dressed, approached Pedro.
"Querida!" he said, and drew her into his arms, his cock sandwiching straight up between their bodies.
Lola looked around. Bill kicked off his loafers, slacks and shorts. With shirttail flapping and cock rigidly outthrust, he grinned as he walked over to her.
Tucker was content to stay with Joyce for now, and he decided that the time had come to strip her. He eased her away from his prick and, bending forward, helped her out of her blouse and bra. Then he knelt next to the sofa and pushed up her skirt. Alas, she was wearing panty hose, like most of the members of her generation when they wore short skirts.
"You have lovely legs, my dear," he said, running his lean hands along them. "You should enhance their beauty with stockings and a garter belt."
"Oh, Tucker, just take everything off me!" she smoldered.
Intensely aroused as he was, Tucker was happy to comply.
Bill moved up to the wide-eyed, deep breathing Lola and wrapped his hands around the luscious melons that bulged from her chest. He squeezed, his fingers sinking into the resilient flesh.
"Ay!" she said, and swayed against him. Her boobs collided with his chest and spread to such an extent that he could no longer hold them.
He ran his hands down her back and patted the extravagant yet shapely curves of her bottom. The feel of that jiggly flesh through her silken pants gave him an added charge. His cock twitched as it stuck upward between their bellies.
Sara, doing what she always liked to do first with a man, dropped to her knees in front of
Pedro. "Por Dios!" the chauffeur hissed passionately as the wife of his employer caught the upcurved head of his pecker in her mouth. She ran her circling lips up and down, up and down on the slender eight-inch shaft, licking and sucking hungrily. The wicked tip of his glans tickled the roof of her mouth and the top of her throat.
Joyce watched this and her husband with the Peruvian cook as Tucker peeled off her panty hose. But when the sophisticated professor placed her legs on his shoulders and bent into the fragrant, wet chasm of her thighs, she lay back and closed her eyes.
"Oh, eat me, Tucker!" she heard herself say, dimly astonished. "Eat me all up!"
His long rosy tongue came out like an adder's and swabbed once up the length of her plushy, blonde-haired slit. Then, bringing his hands in front of his face, he opened her pussy with his thumbs and began to devour its succulent meat. Tucker's tongue was a marvelous tool, twisting, scooping and lapping. Every motion was deftly designed to stimulate to the maximum each nerve end of her cunt lips and clitoris.
Soon Joyce was bouncing her bare ass on the sofa and writhing shamelessly against Tucker's face. She gripped her own tits and squeezed them, pulling at her burning nipples.
Bill drew Lola down to the floor. She stretched out on her back. Her huge breasts lurched toward her shoulders before they settled, spreading somewhat. From beneath shadowed lids, she eyed the passion-inflamed man as he knelt beside her, his proud prick extended. He bent and licked her lovely bare thighs between the tops of her stockings and the elastic edges of her briefs.
Lola rolled on her cushiony ass and let her legs loll wide apart. Bill sprang around to kneel between those gorgeous columns. Gazing down at them and at the narrow white crotch of her panties, which was unable to fully contain her gush of black pubic hair, he paused long enough to strip off his shirt.
Nude at last and much more comfortable, Bill grasped Lola's panties at both sides and pulled them away from her hips. She lifted her legs and brought them together so he could strip her panties completely off. Then she let her stockinged legs fall wide apart once more, and Bill was treated to the full hirsute beauty of her cunt.
His cock gave a little jerk, a thin drool dangling from its tip. He sprawled forward atop the voluptuous woman and pushed her pillow-like breasts together. Lola's nipples were huge and dark, sticking up three-quarters of an inch from the neat corrugated disks that surrounded them. Bill stuck out his tongue and swabbed it over first one titty crest, then the other. He sucked a fat nipple deep into his mouth and tugged on it, shaking her juicy breast.
"Take me!" she murmured pleadingly, and stroked his hair.
He wanted to take her very soon, but before he did that he had to try something else. He moved forward, straddling her waist, his stiff prick bobbing up and down. Lola watched it, her eyelids half-lowered. He inched forward some more until his prick was directly above the valley of her breasts. Then he settled down, resting his balls against her skin, and he grasped her wiggly, satin-smooth tits at their outer sides. Folding them over his extended staff, he began to fuck forward and back, driving his straight cock up and down between her boobs.
"Uh...oh...lover..." Lola said. She ran her rosy tongue over her lolling lower lip as she slowly turned her head to and fro. Her lustrous black hair spilled across the carpet.
Lola's tits were so large and soft that they completely enclosed Bill's shaft and gave it a marvelous massage as he stroked. He thumbed her nipples, adding to her stimulation.
She panted, "Please...please...oh, fuck me, will you?"
"With pleasure," Bill said at last, and backed up to settle between her thighs.
Lola's horny husband grasped Sara by the head and jerked her away from his cock. "Take your clothes off," he ordered. "I want to screw you."
She stood up, smiling. "That sounds wonderful, Pedro. But why don't you undress me?"
"Hurry up," he snapped, forgetting his station entirely. "Don't talk."
Sara's eyes turned hard, and she said imperiously, "Do as I say, Pedro. Take' off my dress."
Her commanding tone brought him back to reality. Swallowing his Latin machismo and bringing his lust under control, the chauffeur said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Crail."
"You fool, don't call me that when you're standing there naked with your prick sticking up." Then she smiled and softened her tone as she added, "My name is Sara. You may call me that this evening."
"Yes...Sara," he said with his soft accent, and searched for the fasteners on her dress. She helped him. He caught the bottom of the garment and lifted it over her head.
She wore black lacy pants, a matching garter belt, and dark hose. Braless, as usual, her pointy breasts quivered as the dress drew away from them.
Pedro found the slender, energetic woman a pleasant change from his heavy-titted, more lethargic wife, though Lola could become very active when strongly aroused. She required a long, rugged fucking. Pedro judged that Sara would respond more quickly, especially to him, tonight.
He dropped to one knee in front of his employer's wife and began ungartering her nylons. Tucker never did that first. In fact, he usually fucked her with her stockings on. Sara decided that Pedro wasn't a garter man. Judging by the look of his devilish prick, which continued to stick up as he stroked the sheer stockings down her legs, she tabbed him as a man who went in for basics. From his piercing black eyes to his lithe build and the rapier he carried at the base of his belly, he fairly reeked of stud.
Joyce was the first in the room to reach a climax, getting it as Tucker licked her clit. But the orgasm was surprisingly soft, and there was no letdown whatever, because Tucker kept licking and sucking. Joyce immediately began to build from her first climax to a second.
When Tucker had her well along toward that peak, he raised his moist face from the chasm of her thighs, got up and had her lie lengthwise on the sofa. He then quickly stripped off his clothes, his erect cock bobbing. , Joyce noticed that Tucker's prick, while slightly larger than Bill's and heavier than Pedro's, didn't stand quite as high as either of theirs. However, it was stiff enough for any purpose.
As soon as Pedro had removed Sara's panties and garter belt, she gave him a little push, causing him to fall backward on the carpet. She dropped astride him. The proud Latin preferred not to be mounted by a woman; he liked to be on top. But Sara gave him no choice.
She impaled herself on his up-thrust dick, letting it glide all the way up inside her. The extra reach of his sinfully long penis became thrillingly apparent to her, even hurting a little. She raised herself slightly, deciding she would have to accustom herself to that extra length gradually.
Sara began to twist and glide up and down on her chauffeur's cock. She smiled faintly as she looked down at him through her long lashes. A curving lock of her short auburn hair crept forward along her cheek until it teased the corner of her wide, thin mouth.
Pedro's eyes glinted as he gazed up at her bobbing, stiff-nippled tits. He reached and grasped them, squeezing hard as he began to buck. His cock penetrated very deeply on each thrust, and Sara positioned herself yet a little higher. She had thought she could take just about anything a horny man could dish out, but this well-hung Latin was teaching her that she had a natural limitation.
Bill encountered no problem with Pedro's wife as he parted her forest of black hairs with the tip of his cock, then glided deep into her warm, soft cunt. He was impressed by her plushiness. Joyce was voluptuous, but Lola was even warmer and softer and more generously curved. Her belly and thighs provided a most comfortable saddle, and her vagina was like deep-piled velvet.
Bill fucked his strong cock into her in steady, far-reaching strokes. He remained propped up on his arms so that he could watch her exotic face and her trembling mountains of tits. At first, she didn't move much, and she made no sound. She watched him from beneath half-lowered eyelids.
Tucker mounted Joyce. She reached up eagerly to embrace him with arms and legs. He introduced his prick into her slowly, and she noticed how it stretched the mouth of her vagina. It was indeed thick! As he worked the instrument deeper and deeper into her cunt, she had a sensation of being utterly stuffed.
"You feel good," she said. "Oh, I love your cock!"
"Your pussy's tight and warm," he replied as he smiled down from his position on extended arms. He went into slow, long strokes.
Throughout the room there were the soft sounds of passionate breathing, mingled with female murmurs of delight, male groans of pleasure and the liquid, sibilant stroking of cocks in well-oiled pussies.
Sara's lithe, slender form twisted and undulated like a harem dancer's as she pumped up and down in a sitting position atop Pedro. His rump beat rhythmically against the carpet as he drove his long prick into her.
Bill stroked straight and steadily into Lola's mushy warmth. Their bellies patted softly with each plunge. He gathered the overflowing side of a soft breast in his hand, forcing the huge nipple to stick up very high, and he twisted his head to lick the passionate stem as he kept driving into Lola's virtually immobile cunt.
After a time he became a bit frustrated by her lack of response. "Don't you feel it?" he asked.
"It is good," she said simply.
He wondered about the vaunted fire of Latin women which he had always heard so much about.
Tucker and Joyce moved perfectly together, she pulling against his back with her crossed legs and bobbing her pussy against his deeply penetrating thrusts. But their rhythm remained slow and deliberate, since she already had reached one climax and Tucker always preferred to prolong a copulation to the maximum extent.
Sara and Pedro were the first to reach a heated pitch of action. She leaned forward and began to grind fiercely. He responded as a servant should and bucked more rapidly into her swirling, wet cunt.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" she said.
Pedro uttered an oath in Spanish.
They fucked with intense concentration.
Bill grasped Lola's stockinged legs and lifted them into the air, feeling that this would help him attain deeper penetration and thereby produce a stronger response. She held her heavy legs straight up, and this did indeed enable him to fuck her more deeply. He drove against the backs of her thighs, the bottoms of her buttocks and the hair-matted base of her belly. She began to pant more noticeably and to turn her head from side to side on the carpet, but still her marvelously soft, wet cunt gave him no action.
"Let's try something else," Tucker told Joyce as he stopped stroking into her. "Let me extend my legs forward and you do the same."
"Can we fuck that way?" she asked in surprise.
"Of course. You sit on my thighs as if we were doing it in a chair."
Joyce and Bill had never tried such a variation, and she was curious. She and Tucker accomplished the change while maintaining the linkage of their organs. Then they grasped hands and began to rock forward and back. She found that she got stronger friction on her clitoris that way, and it pleased her. Tucker enjoyed the more active bobbing of her breasts and the somewhat tighter clutch of her pussy. As to the narrowness of Joyce's channel he had no complaint, but she didn't employ the grasping, rippling contractions at which Sara was adept.
Pedro now felt the delight of Sara's muscular cunt as she strove with him toward a climax.
"Dios!" he said. "Madre Mia!" He lunged into her avidly.
"Ah! Oh, God!" she cried. "Shit! Oh, you fucker!"
She came, and her cuntal contractions turned involuntary, which made them even better. Pedro kept stroking in the spasming channel of her hot, slippery cunt, and it was all he could do to survive the storm of her orgasm without climaxing himself. Being used to longer sessions than this, he wanted to mount the energetic witch who sprawled astride him and to tame her thoroughly before he spent his own passion.
Leaning on his elbows, Bill worked his hands under Lola's soft, wide ass and grasped her plump, rubbery cheeks. By squeezing, he made her cunt tighter, thereby promoting greater friction for them both. She panted harder, and her hips began an irregular series of quick jerks. He knew that he was getting to her at last, but his present position was uncomfortable and he couldn't maintain it for long. He let go of her ass, pulled his hands out from under her, and wiggled higher on her body. This caused his stroking prick to press more firmly against her clitoris. He increased his tempo somewhat, but as excitement gathered within him he wasn't sure whether he could bring Lola to a climax. He very much wanted to do so.
He glanced at his wife and Tucker who were screwing athletically on the sofa, rocking forward and back with hands clasped. Joyce was really enjoying herself, Bill noted, and this gave him a slight pang of jealousy. But he was proud of her sensuality, knowing that she was pleasing Tucker a great deal.
Bill bore into Lola even harder, driving his cock fiercely into her soft cunt. As if by magic, she suddenly reached the point of active response, and she began to bob her hips rapidly. Her cunt, which had been too soft and torpid, gulped hungrily at his stroking prick.
"Goddamn!" he exclaimed, and fucked her with everything he had.
She cried out and pushed her feet hard against the floor, elevating her crotch and making it possible for her hips to grind freely. Grind they did! And pump! Her tits leaped and shook wildly. No tropical storm ever erupted with more fury.
Bill rode the gale, slashing and driving with a cock which quivered at the brink of ejaculation. But Lola's very passionate awakening spurred him to continue. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and swung her head from side to side. She panted heatedly, baring her white teeth. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes were wild.
"You hot bitch!" Bill cried. "Oh God, you hot bitch!"
"Ay, Bueno," she panted. "Mas! Mas! Chingame!"
He felt an orgasmic spasm begin deep in her belly, and somehow he was able to keep fucking until the ripples spread along the wall of her channel. Squealing, she tossed violently against the floor. Bill drove deep and let go, his prick shaking as the semen gushed up from his balls and into her quivering twat. He groaned as wave after wave of ecstasy swept him.
Together, he and Lola had made it better than he and Joyce had done in a long time, better even than he had done with Sara.
By this time Pedro had thrown Sara off him and onto her back. His still-stiff prick bobbed erratically, trailing a string of viscous fluid. Staking it deep within her, he resumed fucking, doing it the way he really liked-on top, in command, driving into his woman and making her like it.
"Oh, Christ!" Sara exclaimed. "Your cock's too fucking long! It's going to kill me!"
"Shut up and screw!" Pedro ordered, no longer caring whether he offended her and thereby lost his job.
Sara's eyes widened and her mouth gaped. He had her pinned against the floor and there was nothing she could do but to accept the slashing motions of his brutal prick which drove so deeply into her that it battered her womb. But gradually the mouth of her uterus seemed to open, accepting the upcurved tip of his pecker, and she derived a sensation such as she had never before experienced. It was grand!
Her cunt began to bob against his driving onslaught. She panted and moaned. Her slender legs came up around him.
Tucker pulled Joyce forward atop him in order to finish her that way. Her big breasts tumbled onto his chest. He grasped them at the sides and squeezed them, pulling one of the nipples to his lips. He sucked and bit the firm rubbery stud as she fucked wildly with him.
"I'm coming!" she cried. "Oh, yeah! Wow! Oh, Tucker!"
Her cunt throbbed around his large pulsating penis as he geysered his warm sperm into her. Orgasmic waves radiated through her body. She felt blissfully satisfied.
Bill had dismounted from Lola and was stretched out on his back. After the lengthy workout she had given him, his only desire was to rest.
Lola sat up and looked around. She had climaxed well with him, but the drug which was still working within her made her want another screwing. She glanced at her husband and the lady of the house, who were still heatedly engaged. On the sofa, Professor Crail and the young rubia continued to lie in warm embrace even though they appeared to have finished fucking. Lola decided that Bill remained her best prospect.
She looked at his penis, which lay limp against his belly. The foreskin was still retracted, and the rosy glans bore a moist glaze composed of her cum and his own.
Lola leaned over him, her huge breasts lunging forward, and she lifted his flaccid cock. Bill opened his eyes, saw the breathtaking titty display and grew interested again. He too still felt the effects of the powerful aphrodisiac.
When he reached for a tit and took a hold on the pneumatic, elongated mass, Lola was encouraged to do what seemed necessary to bring him back to a stud-like condition in a hurry. She bent and wrapped her soft, warm lips around the slimy head of his pecker. Licking the tip of the strong tasting cock, she began to suck.
Bill writhed voluptuously. Though his prick resisted for a while, there was no question about his desire to screw again. Lola repeatedly jerked her head upward, tugging on his meaty but limber penis, and her wet thick tongue kept moving over the sensitive cockhead. She took hold of his balls and fondled them warmly.
Joyce looked up from the sofa and watched her husband getting a blowjob from the Peruvian cook. That made her own mouth water for another taste of cock, and she slid off the man who had fucked her so pleasurably just a short time before. Kneeling next to the sofa, she picked up Tucker's penis and stuffed the wiggly, wet organ into her mouth. The raunchy smell and taste of his well-used cock caused her salivary ducts to gush, bathing his glans in stimulating viscous fluid. Joyce swallowed repeatedly, drinking in the mixture of cum and saliva.
"Ooh...ooh..." Sara babbled, as she bounced beneath Pedro's earnest fucking. "Give it to me! Shit! Oh Jesus, what a cock!"
The upturned tip of Pedro's marvelously horny pecker kept grinding into her uterus. There was no longer any pain, just the most magnificent pleasure she had ever experienced.
Her swarthy chauffeur grunted as he bared his gleaming white teeth. "Fuck, baby!" he said. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"I'm fucking!" Sara cried. "Oh shit, that's good!"
Lola let Bill's cock ooze out of her mouth, and she lay the wet organ against her cheek as she licked the lower portion of the thick but limber shaft. He tried desperately to will it hard, but not quite enough time had passed since his ejaculation.
Lola decided it might help if he became more actively involved in the foreplay, and she turned to straddle his face. He stared up at her beautifully hairy twat and breathed in its well-fucked smell. Short black hairs trailed all the way along her ass crack, ringing the puckered dimple of her anus. The dark, meaty lips of her vulva were open and dribbling with juice. Bill stuck out his tongue, grasped her hips, and pulled Lola down until she sat on his face. His tongue fucked upward into her pudding-like cunt, and his nose nestled next to her ass-hole. Inhaling the earthy essence worked as an added stimulant in his present state, and the taste of her cream-filled cunt helped also. His tongue plowed the rich cuntal pasture. This made Lola suck his cock even harder than before. Gradually, all stimulants combined to force a fresh flow of blood into his prick, stiffening the stalk and making its top swell.
Sara and Pedro finished. She howled as she reached orgasm just as his penis gushed what seemed like a gallon of thick cream into her. She flopped and vibrated, milking more and more juice from his cock. The fluid seeped out around the base of his deeply embedded shaft and dribbled down the crack of her ass.
As soon as he had finished ejaculating, Pedro pulled out of her and flopped onto his back, exhausted. Sara sat up and looked at Bill and Lola.
Though still a little shaky from the two orgasms Pedro had given her, the insatiable brunette crawled over to Bill and Lola on hands and knees.
Sara gave Lola a slap on the hip and said, "Get off him."
Surprised, Lola raised her head from Bill's prick. "He is mine," she dared to reply.
"The hell he is," Sara snapped. "Go take care of my husband."
She seized Bill's stiff cock from the unhappy Latin and capped her own mouth onto it. She sucked and licked. Lola climbed off Bill's face and did as her mistress had commanded: She walked to the sofa where Joyce was sucking Tucker's prick.
"Come here, baby," the lanky man said, smiling as he lifted his arms.
Lola straddled his face, pressing her very wet, hairy cunt against his open mouth. Her cream drained into his gullet as Tucker avidly tongued the Peruvian feast. Joyce kept sucking his penis.
Pedro sat up, ready to go again, and found himself alone. "Caramba!" he muttered.
There was only one thing to do, he decided. He would take the gorgeous blonde away from his boss. It was unfair for Crail to monopolize two women. Anyway, Lola was more than enough to keep a man happy.
Pedro walked over to the couch, his long penis swinging, and grasped Joyce's arm. She looked up, letting Tucker's prick sway free.
"Try this one," Pedro said, lifting his slack penis and directing it toward her face.
"Oh, yes!" Joyce exclaimed happily. She grasped his heavy pendulous nuts with one hand and the base of his cock with the other as he fed his slimy glans into her mouth.
The fresh burst of flavor which Joyce derived as she began to suck the chauffeur's prick made the change more than worthwhile. She tugged on his flaccid dong, licking and swallowing...
When Pedro had deposited Derek and Stacey at the home of Derek's friends, it had been with the understanding that he would return for them at a pre-arranged time. But involved as he was with the Crails and Fosters, Pedro had forgotten. Derek's friends, however, had a chauffeur, and their parents directed him to drive Derek and Stacey home.
No one in the Crail residence heard the car drive up. Derek and Stacey got out, entered the house and went immediately to the living room. The teenagers stood in the open doorway and stared in shocked disbelief at the erotic spectacle spread out in front of them.
Derek's mother was sucking the cock of Stacey's brother-in-law while Stacey's sister did the same for Pedro. Derek's father lay on the sofa with Pedro's wife seated astride his face, grinding her hips slowly.
"Wow!" Stacey exclaimed under her breath.
"Shit, I knew my parents screwed around," Derek whispered, "but I never saw them actually going at it."
"What shall we do?" Stacey wondered aloud, her young pussy beginning to throb.
"I guess we could join the party," Derek whispered back. "But that might get 'em all uptight." He reached over and felt Stacey's ass. "Why don't we go upstairs and do what they're doing?"
"I'm for that," the young blonde declared. Upstairs they went.
In the living room, unmindful that they had been observed, the orgiasts continued to work off the effects of the aphrodisiac they had consumed.
Pedro threw Joyce onto the floor and mounted her. Sara sprang astride Bill. Lola backed up and impaled her cunt on Tucker's swaying flagpole, screwing him as her big tits shook lavishly above his face.
It was quite a bit later when someone remembered the children. Pedro rushed to a telephone and called the house where Derek and Stacey were visiting. He was told the two had been driven home some time ago.
The Fosters and Crails dressed hurriedly and went upstairs. They found Derek and Stacey each sound asleep in their respective beds.
"Thank God they didn't look into the living room when they got home," Bill said to the others in the hall. Then he added, "You don't think they did, do you?"
"Let's assume they didn't," Tucker replied. But there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Derek was just about old enough to start taking part in the swap parties, Tucker judged. He knew the youth had already had a good deal of experience on his own. As for Stacey, Tucker was anxious to get into her.
"We should have been more careful," Bill said to Joyce.
She didn't reply for fear she would reveal that Stacey was no longer the sweet little virgin Bill thought she was. But Stacey hadn't changed much more than she had in the last couple of days, Joyce concluded, and she had the feeling that the full extent of the change hadn't yet come about.
In the morning Bill awakened with a hard-on. That surprised him, because he had been exhausted when he went to bed. But Sara had told Joyce and him about the aphrodisiac just before saying goodnight, and Bill concluded that the drug still was exerting a lingering effect.
He turned to his sleeping wife who lay on her back, partially uncovered. Neither of them had bothered to put on nightclothes, and Joyce's lovely tits were exposed in all their pink-nippled splendor.
Bill bent and licked one of the luscious nipples. Joyce stirred, her springy boob quivering against his face.
"Hey, what's this?" she drawled sleepily.
"Just thought I'd have a little taste," he said, straightening with a grin.
"How was it?" she asked, beautiful even with no makeup and her hair mussed.
"Delicious!" he said, and drove his mouth at her other titty.
His tasting of her breasts gave Joyce the idea to do some sucking and licking also. She reached down underneath the covers and found Bill's cock hard as iron.
"Oh, baby!" she cried as she squeezed his erection. "Let me get at this."
Having watched her fellate Tucker and Pedro last night, Bill was eager to receive a similar treatment from his lovely wife. He lost no time in tossing back the covers to expose his rigid prick, with Joyce's hand wrapped warmly around it.
She quickly sat up, tits bobbing. Then the delightful knockers swooped as she bent to her husband's rigid dong. First her pink tongue snaked around its rosy crest. Bill watched as well as felt the exhilarating effect. His pecker twitched happily.
Joyce pursed her soft, moist lips around the tip of his penis and fluttered her tongue against its sensitive slit.
"Oh, Christ!" Bill exclaimed.
Chuckling softly, Joyce opened her mouth wide to let his fat, spongy cockhead glide into the wet, warm cave. She sucked, drinking-in the taste of him. She breathed in the slightly stale but stimulating scent of his cock and balls.
He grasped and milked at her titties as she began bobbing her head, sliding her sucking lips up and down his spit-slick shaft. His glans surged up into her throat. Her velvet tongue licked his knobbed column.
He said hoarsely, "Man, what a way to wake up!"
A soft knock sounded at the door, but neither of the lovers heard it. Stacey opened the door and walked in. She wore only a short flimsy nightgown without the panty part. Her erect breasts pushed urgently against the pink, gauzy fabric, her rigid nipples showing plainly through.
She smiled. "Care if I join your party?"
Bill looked up aghast. Joyce let go of his cock and straightened around.
Bill struggled to cover their bodies as he said, "Stacey! You shouldn't be in here. For Pete's sake!"
The pretty teenager laughed. "It's all right, Bill, I saw you downstairs last night." , "You did?" His mouth dropped open.
"And that's not all," Stacey continued. "Tell him the rest of it, Joyce!"
"Stacey!" her sister exclaimed. "Shut up, will you?"
"The rest of what?" Bill asked, turning to his wife.
"Nothing," Joyce said, her cheeks reddening. "She didn't mean anything. Stacey, get out of here this instant!"
"Oh, no," the young girl replied, and sat down on the edge of their bed. "We're through being coy with each other and slinging around a lot of hypocritical shit. At least I am. Now that I've found out how you and Bill like to enjoy yourselves when I'm not around, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't level with one another all the way."
"Joyce, what is she talking about?" Bill demanded.
"Better tell him, Sis," Stacey warned, "or I will."
Joyce squirmed, averting her eyes. But she realized Stacey was right. There was no point in keeping secrets any longer. After what had happened last night, she and Bill should be able to face the total truth about each other, and about Stacey too.
Joyce told her husband everything that had happened between Derek, Stacey and herself. "Now you know why I begged you to take me away from this place," she concluded. "But I'm glad you didn't."
Bill said, "Well, I've got something to tell you, too. And I suppose Stacey might as well listen in. Last night wasn't the first time I laid Sara. She seduced me the second day after we got here."
Joyce laughed. "Really?"
"Yes. So you see, neither of us had clean hands before last night."
"I don't know if I can go along with words like 'clean' and 'dirty' any more," Joyce said thoughtfully. "What happened last night-and earlier with Derek, Stacey and me-wasn't dirty really. It was fun."
"You're right," Bill said. "And even though Stacey isn't legally of age, I see no reason why she shouldn't take part in the fun. Have you given her a supply of pills?"
"Don't worry, darling," Joyce said. "I took care of that right away."
He grinned. "Then I guess there's no sweat. Christ, that Derek is certainly a precocious fellow. Most boys aren't very far advanced at fifteen."
"Well, look at Derek's parents," Joyce said. "If heredity and early environment count for anything at all, it's no wonder he's the way he is."
"And he really got to you, huh, baby?" Bill laughed. "It's hard to believe that a kid his age could make the grade with a married woman."
"It was hard for me to believe he had serious ideas until he was right on top of me," Joyce said. "Then it was too late. But I liked it, Bill. I won't lie about that."
"Let's never lie to one another again," he said seriously.
"Hey, all this jazz is interesting," Stacey remarked. "But you two were just getting it on when I walked in. Remember?"
"Yeah," Bill admitted. "But the shock of seeing you here got me out of the mood."
"Well, if it was my fault you got turned off," the girl replied, "maybe I can make amends by turning you on again. Could you dig it?"
"Stacey..." Joyce warned.
"You did it with Derek," Stacey pointed out. "And with Mr. Crail and the chauffeur, too. Anyway, we just agreed there was to be no more shit. Right?"
Joyce nodded reluctantly. She didn't like having her own baby sister muscle in on her husband, but there seemed nothing she could do.
Stacey threw back the covers, exposing Bill's flaccid cock. The young girl's eyes lit up.
"Everybody's done this but me," she said as she lifted Bill's penis. "Now I want to find out what it's like."
Bill steeled himself as Stacey bowed her head and enveloped his limp penis in her sweet, warm mouth. His cock didn't stay limp for long. The blood rushed into it, and the horny thing stiffened until it stood straight up, its knob filling Stacey's mouth. She licked avidly, her tongue circling around the big juicy glans, and she knew why Joyce and the other women in the house got such a charge out of sucking cock. It felt and tasted wonderful!
Stacey's young cunt began to moisten, its lips flaring out. She adjusted her legs on the edge of the bed, and this caused her nightie to pull back. The golden down on her pussy peeped out from beneath the nightgown's ruffled edge.
Bill couldn't resist putting his hand there. He tickled the teenager's soft, warm cunt with the tip of his middle finger.
She lifted her head from his cock long enough to say, "Stick it in, Bill. Get me ready with your finger."
He glanced at his wife.
"Oh, go ahead," she told him. "If you don't do it now, you'll do it behind my back."
Bill wormed his finger up Stacey's hot, tight quim as she continued to suck his prick. The stimulation quickly became too much for him, and he croaked, "Stop it, baby! Stop it right now."
Stacey raised her head. "Will you fuck me, Bill?" she asked sweetly.
This time he didn't glance at his wife for permission, because he knew he would have to screw Stacey whether Joyce agreed or not.
They adjusted their positions on the bed and he clambered atop the luscious young girl. Stacey squirmed, pushing her nightie down off her tits. "There," she said. "Now you can have all of me."
As Joyce watched in resentful frustration, Bill sank his prick into Stacey's very tight, slick pussy.
"Oh, you're bigger than Derek!" she exclaimed. "Bill, you feel so good!"
"If you want a real big one," Joyce said, glaring at her husband, "you ought to screw Pedro some time."
"Maybe I will," Stacey said, panting. "But Bill's the one...I want right now."
Bill wasn't hurt by his wife's remark. He understood how she felt. Anyway, Pedro did have a longer whang than his, and they had agreed to be honest about everything.
Bill quickly set aside all lesser considerations as he stroked his prick up and down in the warm, clutching tunnel of Stacey's cunt. She pumped her hips in perfect counterpoise, the motion having come naturally to her. Looking down at her girlish face and quivering titties, which stood high when she was on her back, and feeling the tautness of her vagina as it gripped his cock, Bill realized that fucking a sixteen-year-old offered a special treat that was all its own. A few days ago the mere idea would have shocked him, but now he embraced the experience eagerly.
How he had changed! Hadn't they all?
Watching the erotic action, Joyce responded just as she had when Derek and Stacey were going at it in her presence. She couldn't merely remain an observer. Her passionate nature required that she participate.
Joyce snuggled up to the fucking pair. She stroked her husband's buttocks and thighs while kissing him on the arm and shoulder. Bill grinned at her. In an effort to get closer to her while still continuing with Stacey, Bill shifted his knee to the outside of Stacey's thigh. But he lost his balance and fell against Joyce, his cock slipping out of Stacey's hole.
Joyce quickly pressed her belly against the up-thrust organ and began to grind, tilting her pussy upward. Bill's shaft fitted into the crease of her vulva, the soft labia overlapping his stalk. Not wishing to lose out, Stacey pressed her cunt against his cock from the opposite side. Bill's prick was thereby surrounded by moist, soft pussy flesh as the two girls lay against each other. He had a knee planted between the thighs of each. Hunching vigorously, he stroked his rigid cock up and down in both cuntal grooves at once, stimulating both cuts with the thick, hard-rimmed head of his organ.
The blonde sisters writhed, enjoying the stimulation Bill was giving them. Soon they began to enjoy each other's stimulation, also, as their tits wiggled together and their bellies rubbed. Bill wrapped his arms around them both and hugged them closer together.
The three persons screwed in unison, their bodies forming a single mound of undulating, quivering flesh. The excitation of the girls' cuntal lips and clitties was perhaps more intense than in ordinary intercourse, and they enjoyed the additional advantage of drawing excitement from each other. Accordingly they both rose to climax with greater than usual speed. Stacey began to come, then Joyce joined her in orgasm. Bill pressed his hands against their wriggling asses, forcing their cunts even more snugly against his stroking cock. Both sisters had a full and satisfying release.
Bill then quickly slipped between Stacey's thighs, sank his cock deeply into her belly, and fucked her with fast and furious strokes until his gun went off, shooting her full of his cum.
He had never had a more satisfying release.
When Bill walked into the study that morning to resume his work with Tucker, he was surprised to see a pretty dark-haired girl seated beside Tucker's desk. She wore boots and a short skirt which revealed shapely legs that were crossed.
She looked at Bill and didn't smile. Neither did Tucker. He seemed troubled.
"Bill, I want you to meet my daughter," he said. "Marcia, this is Bill Foster. He's collaborating with me on the book."
"I see," Marcia said, looking him over. "Well, I'm glad to know you, Bill. And good luck," she added a bit ruefully.
Bill wondered about that as he smiled and acknowledged the introduction. Then he turned to the man behind the desk. "Tucker, I didn't realize you had any children besides Derek."
"Marcia's my child by a former marriage," Tucker replied. "She's twenty years old and going to university. She's been involved in this project with me from the start."
"From start to finish," Marcia said bitterly.
Tucker frowned at her. "This isn't the finish. We can ride out this storm."
Bill dropped into a chair in front of the desk. "What storm are you talking about?" he asked.
"Never mind," Tucker said. "It isn't going to affect our work one way or the other. Now, Marcia, if you'd like to go up to your room and get settled, Bill and I have lots of work to do. I'll talk with you later, hmmmm?"
The slender girl shrugged and stood up. "Nice to have met you, Bill," she said, "even if the occasion is unpleasant."
He stood. "I'm happy to have met you, Marcia."
After she left and closed the door, Bill asked Tucker, "What in the world was she talking about? If it concerns the project, I ought to know."
The older man became irritated. "You're just a writer, Bill. Planning this thing is my job. We've run into a little opposition, that's all. It was expected. Marcia is so involved with the college group that worked on the task force, she's overly sensitive to any criticism."
"What criticism?" Bill persisted. "Even if I was only hired to put words on paper, I'm naturally interested in the overall project."
"I tell you it doesn't matter," Tucker said. "We can't hope to please everybody with what we're doing. Now let's get down to business."
Bill was forced to drop his inquiry for the moment. But since he was far from satisfied, he resolved to have a private talk with Marcia at the first opportunity.
The chance presented itself right after lunch when Tucker went into his study to take a phone call. Bill followed Marcia into the living room and asked her, "Just what was that all about this morning? Your father wouldn't tell me."
Marcia studied him. "You really don't know what's going on here, do you?"
He was taken aback. "I believe I do. We're preparing a book on the basis of the task force reports on industrial pollution."
"Right so far. But what kind of a book is it going to be?"
"A damned good one, if I have anything to say about it."
"And a damned crooked one if Dad has his way. Which he will."
"Crooked?" Bill asked. "What the devil are you talking about?"
She shook her head. "I've said too much already. You're working for my father. Get your information from him."
Bill grasped the girl's arm and made her look at him. "I've already told you, he won't answer my questions. Now if there's something here that isn't straight, I want to know about it." He recalled his own suspicions earlier.
Marcia looked at him and carried a lock of dark hair away from her face. "Let's just say this thing isn't working out the way I thought it would. Now some members of the task force have found out about it, and they're raising a stink. Since the task force was financed partially by a government grant, these people went to the Justice Department. I tried to stop them, for Dad's sake, but I couldn't. That put me on their shit list, too. I flew out from the East to let Daddy know what's happening. I felt I owed him that. Otherwise, I'm no longer involved."
"Is the task force upset because some big corporations aren't going to be mentioned in the book?" Bill asked.
"Right on." Marcia smiled for the first time. "I see you've been doing some thinking about that yourself."
"How could I help it? The omissions were pretty obvious. What I want to know is, what do they mean? Why is your father zeroing in on some companies and letting the others off?"
Marcia said very seriously, "That's the key question, Bill. Just keep thinking and you might come up with the answer."
She turned and left him standing there, still unsatisfied. But he had a pretty strong-suspicion of what she was driving at, and it shocked him.
After completing his long distance phone conversation, Tucker left the house, saying he wouldn't be back until evening.
A short time later, as Bill had anticipated, Sara came down to the study. "Well, how are you feeling after the bash last night?" she inquired in a chipper tone.
"Not so good," Bill said. "But the bash has nothing to do with it. Tell me, how much do you know about your husband's professional affairs?"
Sara blinked. "I've been married to him for sixteen years."
"Okay. Is he on the take?"
She sat down opposite Bill and stared at him intently, a curious smile on her face.
"I'm talking about the book we're working on," Bill continued. "Has he taken money from certain industrial interests to omit them from the pollution report?"
Sara's smile slowly faded. "Have you asked him about this?"
"Not in so many words."
"Well, I suggest you do so, Bill."
"I'm asking you. I figure you'll give me a straight answer."
"I really don't know that much about the pollution project," Sara said, and stood. She walked over to him and sat on his lap. "Anyway, we have better things to do than to talk about a dull old book."
Before Bill could press further for an answer, Sara ran a slender arm around his neck and sealed her soft lips to his. Her tongue fluttered into his mouth.
Despite all his sexual activity of the preceding night and that morning, he couldn't resist this fresh erotic assault upon his senses. His arms came up around Sara, and he returned her passionate kiss. His hand surrounded a breast which was unbrassiered beneath her knitted dress, and he squeezed the pliant mound. His cock stiffened against her warm ass.
"Let me call Lola," she murmured as she took her mouth from his. "I like trios."
Bill had discovered that morning that he liked trios, also. Also, he was anxious to be with the voluptuous Latin cook again. He didn't protest when Sara stepped to her husband's desk and pressed the button which rang a signal in the kitchen.
But the fact that he was playing along with Sara didn't lessen Bill's determination to get an answer to the question he had asked a few minutes ago. It appeared, however, that he would have to get the answer directly from Tucker.
When Lola appeared in the den doorway, Sara said, "Come in, honey, and close the door. Bill and I are in the mood for fun and games."
"You want me to join you?" the lush brunette inquired, her eyes lighting up.
"That's exactly what we had in mind," Sara said with a smile.
"Shall I call my husband?"
"Not now. I believe Bill is man enough to take care of both of us. And if he isn't," Sara continued, her eyes growing sultry, "I'll help him out with you. All right?"
What could Lola say? Not only did she work for Sara, but the proposition sounded appealing in its own right. She advanced to the center of the room.
Bill watched with growing anticipation as the women took off their clothes. They were quite a study in contrasts. Though both were brunettes, Lola's hair was wavy and long, tumbling about her shoulders, while Sara's was short and styled close to her head. Sara's skin tone was fair while Lola's was darker, suggesting a slight admixture of Indian blood. But it was in their figures that the two differed greatly. Lola had large rounded tits, a wide ass, and heavy thighs. Sara's tits were much smaller and pointed to match her overall slender build.
Bill was so busy studying them as they disrobed that his own disrobing lagged. Consequently the women were nude before he was. When he finally removed his shorts, his randy prick arched forward, already in a half-hard state. Both Lola and Sara gazed at his cock covetously.
He knew Sara would insist on directing the action, regardless of what he might say. Therefore he conserved his breath.
Sara said, "Lie down on the floor, Bill. Lola, you lie beside him."
Bill was grateful that the study was carpeted with a deep, soft pile. He lay down and stretched out. Lola obediently lay next to him.
Sara dropped to her knees at his side, and she didn't have to tell him what she proposed to do. Lola watched as her mistress lifted Bill's prick and retracted the foreskin. Sara lowered her head, her mouth opening hungrily, and she immediately encompassed Bill's bulgy glans in her mouth. Her tongue and sucking lips worked their usual magic, producing a total erection in just moments.
Bill closed his eyes and luxuriated in the marvelous sensation produced by her mouth gliding up and down on his shaft. Her saliva bathed his cockhead, and her tongue caressed it gently.
After she had sucked off most of Bill's rich male flavor and was satisfied with his cock's rigid state, Sara raised her head. "Lola will keep you hard," she said, "while I get her ready. Straddle her face, why don't you?"
He glanced at the voluptuous cook, and she indicated no disapproval. He swung astride her and crawled forward, his rigid dick pointing the way. When his loins were directly above her face, he fell forward onto his hands. Lola grasped his prick and tilted it down to her mouth.
This is living, Bill thought as his happy whang slid through the moist, velvety O of her lips, bumping the roof of her mouth. They adjusted their positions slightly so that his cock could glide all the way back on her tongue, and she licked its underside lovingly as she sucked. Bill moved his hips up and down, fucking Lola's pretty mouth, and his balls bobbed against her chin.
In the meantime, Sara spread the cook's legs wide apart and bent into the canyon of her wide, soft thighs. Sara worked her arms underneath those heavy columns, leaned on her elbows, and grasped the generous cheeks of Lola's ass. Sara stuck out her tongue and began to lick slowly up and down Lola's furry box, plastering the black hairs against the plushy cuntflesh.
Sara felt Lola's pussy quiver and her lips swell with excitement. Her slit opened wider, creating a gap in the hairy pasture, and Sara inserted her tongue in the slippery cleft. She wormed that marvelous instrument round and round, in and out of all the intricate folds, sinking deeper and deeper. Sara slurped up the Peruvian's thick, tasty cream.
Soon Sara was tongue-fucking Lola's pussy as rhythmically and thrillingly as Bill was cock-fucking her mouth. The Latin responded more quickly than was usual for her. Her body began to undulate against the floor-first her head lunging upward, then her hips.
"All right, Bill," Sara said at last, as she lifted her head. "Slide back and fuck her cunt."
Reluctantly Bill withdrew his dripping, rosy prick from Lola's even-rosier mouth and clambered backward as the large tool swayed and bobbed. He settled between Lola's thighs, aimed his cock at her pussy and drove it all the way in.
"Uuuh!" Lola said, and lifted her heavy legs around him.
Sara snuggled up between Bill's frog-spread legs and began to lick the shaft of his cock and the mouth of Lola's pussy as he fucked his prick up and down, in and out of the Latin's wonderfully slick, warm hole. This was a juicy feast for Sara, the cream oozing copiously from Lola's cunt each time Bill pumped his hot cock deeply into it. Sara licked all around the dribbling snatch and got so carried away that she kept licking right down into the super-soft cleft of Lola's rubbery buttocks, swabbing the cook's tasty ass-hole. Her head reeling from the earthy and erotic tastes and scents, Sara licked up around the base of Bill's bobbing shaft, swabbed his quivering nuts, then stuck her tongue between the mounds of his buttocks, licking his ass-hole as well.
Lola, who ordinarily was a slow study, climaxed with a wild bouncing of her ass against the carpet. Her tits shook like satin bags of pudding. She moaned.
Bill had been prepared for a lengthy session with her, and he found that he still had some reserve. He backed up, pulling his prick from her pussy with an audible Pop!
He rolled onto his back, thinking that Sara would mount him, but instead she capped her ravenous mouth down over his cock again.
All right, baby, he thought, if this is the way you want it, this is how you're going to get it! He wrapped his hands around the back of her smoothly coiffed head, holding her loosely enough so she could bob her head on his prick but couldn't get away even if she wanted to. He put his lips into counter-motion against her lunging mouth.
Sara mouth-fucked his prick faster and faster. He jabbed upward in the same tempo, driving his pulsating pecker head into her throat. Her lips slurped noisily, saliva gliding down the base of his shaft and moistening his clump of hair. Her tongue beat a stimulating tattoo against the underside of his glans.
Bill's balls churned furiously.
Here it comes! he thought.
He groaned fiercely as the semen burst from him, fountaining into Sara's throat. She kept sucking and bobbing her head as she swallowed greedily. She drank spurt after spurt of his thick, slippery cum.
Even when Bill had stopped gushing, the rapacious woman continued to suck his cock. The organ softened, its shaft turning rope-like, and it wiggled beneath her mouth as she kept bobbing her head up and down. Finally she let it go, and it fell back limp.
Sara raised her head and looked at Bill, her eyes slightly misty and her mouth very wet.
"Sorry," he said, "but I can't finish you off the other way now."
Sara smiled at him. "It's all right, lover. I climaxed. Oh, you've got a really delicious cock!"
He didn't know what to say to that.
ll
Bill waited until the next morning to have his talk with Tucker. He had taken sufficient time to think matters out and to discuss them with Joyce. They were of the same mind: if Tucker's anti-pollution crusade was as mercenary as it appeared to be, Bill had no choice but to turn in his resignation, effective at once.
Tucker was seated at his desk, calmly smoking his pipe, when Bill entered the room.
"Thought I'd get a little work done before breakfast," the older man said with a smile.
Bill dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "Tucker, I've got a question to ask, and I want a straight answer. I believe I'm entitled to that."
Tucker removed the pipe from his mouth and sat back. "Certainly, Bill. What is it?"
"Are you taking a payoff from any companies for leaving them out of the book?"
Tucker smiled. "Is that what my idealistic daughter told you?"
"No. But she told me enough to lead me to that conclusion."
"Well, it's true," Tucker said calmly. "I should have realized that I couldn't keep this from you. But I'm sure you're sophisticated enough to handle it. The fact is, I couldn't afford to devote as much time as I have to this project without some financial gain other than the paltry grants we've received. The book will make a profit, of course, but those funds will have to go into a foundation for further work against pollution. The government insisted on that before the grants were issued.
"Anyway," he continued, "it's impossible to cover the whole field in just one book. I elected to present a thorough case against a few polluters. That will spur action against the whole lot of them and our purpose will be accomplished. What difference does it make that I profited a little on the side?"
Bill slumped in his chair. "I don't believe it," he-marveled. "That rationalization is sick! We're engaged in a blackmail operation."
"Nonsense, man! As I said, all the polluters will suffer after this book comes out. The public will demand strong laws, and those laws will affect all companies equally."
"But the companies we don't mention won't suffer the adverse publicity that the others will. That will mean millions of dollars to them in extra sales." Bill's eyes narrowed. "How much was your cut?"
"Enough so I can afford to continue my work," Tucker said. "Don't begrudge me that. Every laborer is worthy of his hire."
"Well, this laborer is through," Bill announced, and stood up. "You have my resignation, effective today. I'm going back to Newscope, and I intend to write an expose of this whole sordid business."
"If you're thinking of including my personal living habits in your expose," Tucker said, "you'd better reconsider. You, your wife and your sister-in-law participated in the fun and games, don't forget. I'll have to bring that out if the matter becomes a public issue."
"Your personal life is your own, Tucker. So is mine. My story for Newscope will concern only your professional activities. After I get through digging, I'm sure I'll find enough in that line to provide a lot of juicy reading."
Tucker gestured with an open hand. "There's nothing I can do to stop you."
Bill turned and left the study. He went directly upstairs and reported to Joyce. They began to pack.
Tucker wasn't idle. He put into effect a plan which he had worked out the preceding evening with Sara for use in case Bill wouldn't listen to reason. Sara passed the word to the other members of the household.
Just as the Fosters were about to complete their packing, the door of their room opened. Bill and Joyce turned from their suitcases, which lay open and nearly full on the bed, and stared at Tucker and Sara. The Crails were totally nude.
"We thought a little goodbye party was in order," Tucker said with a smile.
"Bill," Joyce warned, "we mustn't do this. We agreed we're going to leave."
Bill scanned Sara's slender form, visually caressing the tits that were pointed urgently at him, the auburn pussy hair that was fluffed out. He decided that he couldn't leave the house without having Sara one last time, as long as she was willing.
"It's all right," he told Joyce. "Even though Tucker and I have our differences, our parting can be friendly."
Tucker said, "That's right, Joyce. Your husband is only going to ruin me, that's all, so there's no reason why we shouldn't still be friends."
Bill didn't say anything. He was having second thoughts. Joyce also was silent.
Tucker laughed. "I was just joking, kids. There are no hard feelings on this side. Come on, take your clothes off. There's only one proper way to say goodbye."
The propriety of the suggestion was a matter of opinion, but its appeal to Bill was clear and strong. And he had been conditioned, during the last few days, to give in to his physical urges. He began to take off his clothes.
Tucker moved up to Joyce, who was momentarily hesitant. But when his hands began to move on her body and his lips pressed tenderly but demandingly against hers, her resistance crumbled. One final little orgy, she decided, won't hurt.
The Fosters quickly undressed. Then, to their surprise, Tucker led Joyce from the room, while Sara urged Bill down onto the bed.
"Where are Tucker and Joyce going?" he inquired as Sara crawled on top of him.
"Never mind," she purred. "Just think about the fun we're going to have."
Her hand had turned his penis into a sturdy stalk, and he anticipated that Sara was about to go down on it as she had done at the beginning of every prior sex encounter they'd had. But he was in for another surprise. While Sara held him in place, in the center of the large bed, and worked her tantalizing lips and tongue against his mouth, the door opened.
Bill couldn't see who had entered the room until they had approached the bed to stand at either side of it. He stared up at the opulent charms of Ingrid and Lola, both completely naked.
"We're going to give you a real send-off, darling," Sara murmured, her lips brushing his.
A friendly goodbye from Tucker and Sara was understandable, though unexpected in the circumstances, but Bill couldn't comprehend why the servants had been invited to take part. Still, he wasn't about to argue, not with the pretty tits of Ingrid and Lola thrust appealingly forward above him, and their lovely bushes, one black and one golden, within his reach.
He reached, grinning as he tickled their tufts. Then he wrapped his arms around both girls and drew them down onto" the bed with Sara and him.
He was going to miss all this, he thought. Too bad the summer had to be cut short.
Ingrid and Lola both immediately went to work as Sara had instructed them to do. She also pitched in. Bill found himself overwhelmed by shapely female flesh-smooth, warm, and pliant. Three mouths were available for his pleasure. Three cunts. Three pairs of hands to caress and fondle his every part.
Sara curled at his side. She stroked his chest while running her tongue around his lips, occasionally dipping the moist, slippery tool into his mouth.
Lola and Ingrid centered their attentions on his loins. While the blonde housemaid grasped the shaft of his up-thrust penis and directed its proud head to her parted lips, the brunette cook cupped and fondled his balls. Ingrid slid her soft lips down over the crown of his cock and sucked the meaty mass as she stroked its sensitive surface with her wet tongue. Lola took a nut in her mouth and gently sucked it. Bill writhed.
Sara straddled his neck and leaned forward against the head of the bed, making her hair-lined slit available to his kiss. His tongue leaped eagerly at the target, gliding into her cunt and licking the labyrinthine folds. Her fresh female fragrance, mixed with a subtle and exotic perfume, titillated his nostrils.
Ingrid's sucking mouth pumped slowly up and down on his saliva-slippery shaft. Her tongue worked tirelessly around his cockhead. Her teeth provided an additional fillip by scraping gently along his stalk.
Lola's wet tongue worked over both his balls, fluttering and massaging, as her big, soft titties rubbed his thigh.
His hands moved erratically and blindly from Sara to Ingrid to Lola-stroking a head, cupping a titty, screwing obscenely into a slick, warm snatch. The blood raced through his body. His pecker throbbed. His balls churned in blissful excitation.
After a time Lola and Ingrid changed positions, the former taking oral possession of his cock while the latter licked his testicles. Lola pumped her mouth up and down on his prick even more passionately than Ingrid had done. Her tongue was thicker and softer, and she worked it thrillingly against his glans and shaft.
Ingrid's tongue was lighter in its caressing of his nuts than Lola's had been. And the young blonde jiggled his jumbucks on the palm of her hand as she licked them.
Sara was grinding her pussy passionately against his face by this time, showering him with her juice. The thick, slippery nectar trickled down his tongue, and he had to swallow frequently.
Soon Lola and Ingrid began to kiss his cock simultaneously, one of them gliding her moist tongue along its side while the other sucked on the pulsating glans. Then they changed positions. For a time they both licked the sides of the up-thrust, quivering organ, while the head was allowed to stand free, swelling in the cool air.
After Bill was thoroughly prepared, the fucking began. One woman after the other took her turn astride his loins, pumping her warm, slippery cunt up and down on his bone-hard cock. He pawed at their jiggling titties, occasionally grasping and squeezing handfuls of the satiny, pliant flesh.
It was sheer delight.
In the master bedroom, Joyce was receiving a similar treatment from the three adult males of the household-Tucker, Pedro, and even Kabo, the reluctant gardener. Sara had warned the middle-aged Japanese that he had better show up or he would be out of a job, and since he had a wife and family to support this gave him little choice.
But Kabo found the situation with Joyce somewhat more to his liking than Sara's onslaught in the garden had been. At least he and the other men were in a commanding position. Also, Joyce was a most beautiful and curvaceous blonde.
The men began by letting her play with their cocks. The newly liberated young Woman, who had just recently discovered the joys of fellatio, was in seventh heaven as she lay on her back in the center of the bed and had three men kneeling next to her face, their stiff pricks projecting above her.
Joyce's hands moved anxiously from one bone-hard erection to another, stroking and fondling. She cupped and fondled their hairy balls as well. Then she began to tilt first one prick, then another, down to her eager lips. Her pink tongue danced out to lick the bulging, wild-scented cockheads, then she took them one by one into her sucking mouth.
The men took turns stroking their peckers up and down in the soft pink circle of her lips. After a while, Pedro and Kabo, both of whom had fairly slender pricks, managed to work their tools into Joyce's mouth at the same time. They pumped in and out of her widely stretched mouth, deriving wonderful friction from her taut, elastic lips, her twisting tongue, her sharp teeth and from each other's rods as well.
Joyce was nearly drowning in the erotic scents and tastes of the three horny males. The clear cock-honey that drooled from their pricks created a thin but steady stream that trickled along her lapping tongue and down her gulping throat.
Finally the men positioned her on her side. Pedro faced her, pulling one of her thighs up around his waist, and he jammed his long, upcurving pecker up her cunt, reaching bottom with it and working the wicked tip into the mouth of her womb. Kabo lay on his side behind her and deftly worked his cock into her anus. Joyce was so lacking in resistance by this time that her sphincter offered practically no defense at all, and Kabo's cockhead easily popped into her warm and marvelously clutching ass-hole.
Tucker continued to kneel in front of her face, and she eagerly took his penis into her mouth. The big, thick cock forged all the way into her throat, and her teeth clamped hungrily around the base of the shaft.
Pedro, Kabo and Tucker all fucked Joyce at the same time, stroking their peckers up and down, in and out, screwing her pussy, ass-hole and mouth. She writhed among them, her senses and nerves swamped by such a multitude of erotic sensations that her mind was unable to distinguish one from another. All she knew was that she was being gloriously penetrated, blissfully stuffed by stiff, throbbing pricks, and fucked more massively than she had ever imagined possible.
She had orgasms like firecrackers strung together-pop, pop, pop! There was never a letdown after a climax, because the men kept stroking, one in her cunny, another up her ass, and the third in her sucking, slurping mouth.
When the men began to climax, she found herself caught in a floodtide. A gush cascaded over her tongue and down her throat. Another gush hosed her guts. Spurt after spurt went into her spasming womb as Pedro's tightly wedged peckertip quivered and jetted away. The gushing into her mouth and ass continued.
Joyce had a final massive orgasm that shook her from head to toes, and she passed out. . .
In the other bedroom, Bill was reaching his peak with a wildly gyrating Sara perched atop his prick, Lola seated on his face, and his finger up Ingrid's snatch. He fucked the three women simultaneously with cock, tongue, and digit, and they all came in a single, tremendous storm that shook him, showered him, and seemed to suck the very life from his body. His cock geysered gloriously up Sara's clutching, rippling cunt, drawing more juice from Bill's testicles than he had thought they were capable of holding.
Finally he fell limp.
Derek had been sent to Stacey's room to keep her occupied while her sister and brother-in-law received the attentions of the adult members of the household. At first Stacey resisted the boy's advances, because she hadn't forgiven him for the tactics he'd used to force himself on Joyce and her.
But Derek was as determined as usual. He wrestled Stacey down onto the bed, pulled up her skirt, and stripped off her pink silk panties. When he released his strong young prick from his pants, she knew the fight was over. Her hand curled around the rigid column, and she cooed with passionate response.
Marcia was the only member of the Crail household who wasn't aware of what was going on. Tucker and Sara considered it awkward and unfortunate that she happened to be there at the time; however, there was nothing to do but to go forward with their plan regardless. They hoped she might remain in her room-and she did so for a time-but she decided finally to seek out Derek and discuss with him the crisis that had arisen between herself and her father.
The girl went first to Derek's room. When she didn't find him there, she thought of Stacey, whom she had met the previous day. If Marcia knew Derek, and she did, he would be giving that hot young blonde quite a rush. She stepped across the hall to Stacey's room and rapped on the door.
By that time, Derek and Stacey were completely nude and were passionately embracing on the bed. Their tongues were in each other's mouths, their hands on each other's bodies, and they would hardly have heard an explosion go off, much less a tapping at the door.
Marcia considered for a moment, then opened the door and looked into the room. What she saw both shocked and excited her.
Though she knew of Derek's strong sexual proclivities, she had never actually glimpsed her young brother in action. Seeing him sprawled nude beside Stacey, his virile prick upraised against his belly, turned Marcia on more strongly than any of her college boyfriends had ever been able to do. She felt a tremendous rush of desire for her wild-natured brother, whom she had cared for and caressed when he was a tiny child and whom she had watched grow into a sinfully handsome and erotic young man.
Watching him with another girl gave Marcia a stab of jealousy. This, along with the strong desire that possessed her, set her on a course of action that she would never consciously have chosen.
She rushed into the bedroom and began hurriedly taking off her clothes.
Stacey was amazed when she saw the older girl approaching the bed. Derek looked up and his eyes widened. His sister's long dark hair tumbled partially in front of one shoulder, hiding all but the crest of a beautifully shaped firm breast. But her other breast was completely exposed, its rigid beige nipple up-thrust invitingly. Derek's eyes traveled down her slender form, taking in the nest of silken hair where her thighs met her belly.
"Sis!" he exclaimed happily, and his stiff cock gave a little twitch. "Hey, get down here and groove with us."
"No, Derek," Stacey said. "That isn't right. No!"
"What's the sweat as far as you're concerned?" he responded. "If Marcia and I dig one another, you shouldn't care."
"But she's your sister!" Stacey exclaimed in horror.
She could see, however, that her protests would have no effect. Marcia and Derek were already embracing on the bed, leaning against her as they kissed and caressed each other. Stacey watched in shock as Marcia's hand went to Derek's lean, rigid prick and grasped it. Marcia's delicate fingers moved along the iron-hard shaft, then up to tease the spongy, bulging glans.
Derek thrilled wildly. He had lusted for his sister ever since he was old enough to first appreciate girls. He had vowed to himself that one day he would have her. That day had finally come, and he couldn't have been more pleased.
Marcia had turned to melted butter. Though she'd had experience with a number of males at college, this promised to be the most exciting time she had ever spent. Imagine making it with little Derek, little Derek who was all grown up, strong and handsome, a dream lover if she had ever seen one!
Stacey scrambled from the bed and ran out of the room. She couldn't stay around and watch. She ran to Joyce's room and didn't bother to knock before flinging open the door.
The young girl gasped at the sight of her brother-in-law in bed with Sara, Lola and Ingrid.
Stacey's cheeks turned red and she withdrew from the room. She wondered wildly where Joyce was. Perhaps in the master bedroom, she decided, and she went there. This time she rapped on the door.
When the door was opened, she tried to cover her nudity with her hands. But Tucker, who stood there as nude as she, laughed with delight and drew her into the room, causing her hands to skid away from her tits and blonde-fluffed loins. She saw her sister on the bed with Pedro and the Japanese gardener.
Stacey had the giddy sensation that she was losing her mind. These things couldn't be happening in the sane, orderly world in which she had grown up! Yet the sensory impressions were strong, and her own hot young body was responding to them.
Her response heightened as the dark-eyed chauffeur left the bed and approached her. His cock was slack, as was Tucker's, and Stacey guessed the reason: they had both already screwed Joyce.
She could also tell by the wicked gleam in their eyes that they intended to screw her!
While Kabo remained with Joyce on the bed, sucking and licking at her flavorful, blonde-haired pussy as her climaxes continued, Tucker and Pedro drew Stacey down to the carpeted floor. Her head reeled. She reached out blindly for the two men's pricks, clasped those hose-like projections and began to stroke them. Both cocks stiffened up very shortly.
Stacey knew she was in for a very rough time, but one which she would heartily enjoy!
In Derek's room, the youth and his sister snuggled into a very warm embrace. They kissed, tonguing each other's open mouths. Marcia thrilled to the pressure of her brother's cock against her belly, and her excitement became so intense that she got completely carried away.
She writhed out of Derek's embrace and bent toward his bristling loins.
"Wow!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm as she grasped his rigid cock and directed its large rosy head toward her parted lips.
To Marcia, her brother's juicy prick was the most tempting stick of candy that she had ever held, and she could hardly wait to place her mouth around it. As he felt his sister's soft, warm lips encompass his glans, a tremor shook Derek's body and he groaned with delight.
Marcia began to lick and suck at his cock with loving intensity, running her wet tongue up and down on it. On each upstroke, she licked the entire pulsating head. Derek writhed in a state of sexual transport.
Finally, Marcia mounted him, taking his slick penis all the way up her warm, clasping cunt. She sat erect on his body, twisting and posting, as his cock pumped up and down, up and down, up and down, in her marvelously smooth, hot vagina.
I'm fucking my brother! Marcia thought as she looked down at his handsome, boyish face, twisting in the ecstasy she was giving him. I'm actually fucking my baby brother! It's too wonderful to be true!
But no other prick could possibly have felt so good inside her. It had to be happening!
As for Derek, the most precious dream of his young life had come true. His cock was in beautiful, loving Marcia! His sister Marcia! He was screwing her, as he had always wanted to do!
The impassioned brother and sister fucked in gradually growing ecstasy until finally their combined lust exploded in a shower of bliss. Young Derek's cream gushed into his sister's spasming pussy, and she lay forward against him, throbbing with the most intense orgasm of her life. It was magnificent!
On the floor of the master bedroom, Stacey was having her cunt fucked by the dark and vicious-looking Pedro while Tucker knelt next to her head and stroked his huge cock in and out of the sucking circle of her pink, wet mouth.
The chauffeur knelt straight up, holding Stacey's ass in his hands, twisting her slowly as he drove his long cock all the way into the mouth of her womb.
"Suck it, baby, that's it," the middle-aged professor crooned as he watched the beautiful blonde's lips glide up and down the stalwart shaft of his cock.
Stacey's eyes were closed in rapture. Her mouth was widely stretched around Tucker's dong. She hunched her head rhythmically forward, enjoying the feel of his thick cockhead gliding against her tongue, forging into the entrance of her throat.
Looking down, Tucker was completely captivated by the sight as well as the feel of his straight prick stroking in and out between the young girl's wide-circled lips. Little bubbles of saliva appeared along the soft pink edges of her mouth as she sucked. Tucker's cockhead bumped her palate each time he thrust it in. Her tongue lapped excitedly against his glans.
Finally he could no longer control himself, and he fucked her hot mouth furiously as Pedro pumped his eight-inch prick in and out of her clasping, slippery cunt. Stacey climaxed thrillingly and, in the midst of the beautiful orgasm, received Tucker's hot gush of semen into her throat. She gulped and kept sucking. Pedro finished in her vagina, splashing his fluid into her pulsating womb.
And on the bed, Joyce stared mistily up at the vigorously hunching Kabo, who supported himself on straight arms and admired her fluffy blonde hair against the blue pillow, her pink-nippled titties shaking.
He climaxed, spurting his cum inside her.
"Oooh, SHIT!" Joyce cried wantonly, and climaxed for yet another time, vibrating from head to toes as Kabo's quivering cock expelled the last drops of his lust in her vagina.
Exhausted, Joyce slept alone in her bedroom.
Nearly as tired himself, Bill slumped in a chair across from Tucker's desk and listened as the erudite professor laid out a proposition which was calculated to change the young man's mind about leaving.
"Forget the deal we made before you came here," Tucker said. "If you stay, I'll cut you in on the profits on this project. Besides, you can continue to live the way I do. You'll have everything you want-money, luxury, women. Surely you're too smart a man to turn that down."
In his weakened state, Bill was tempted to accept the offer. Who had appointed him the savior of the world, anyway? And it wasn't as if Tucker was a thoroughly bad man. The work he was doing was good, even though mercenary and selective in its application. The easiest and pleasantest course for Bill to pursue was surely to strike a bargain and remain as Tucker's collaborator.
But ease and physical pleasure didn't make up the total substance of life. In the quiet moments, when he was alone, a man had to be at peace with himself. He had to believe in himself. Bill knew he would no longer be able to look at his reflection in a mirror without flinching if he were to accept Tucker's offer.
He stood and said, "I'll think it over." But he had no real intention of doing so. His purpose was to go upstairs, gather up Joyce and Stacey, then phone for a taxi. He didn't want to give Tucker a chance to sandbag him again before he got out of that place.
As Bill approached the door, it burst open.
Ingrid rushed in excitedly. "Professor Crail! This man...I tried to stop him...but he insisted on seeing you..."
The man she referred to thrust her aside and entered the study. Though dressed in a business suit, he had the burly build of a dockworker.
"Professor Crail?" he demanded in a gruff voice as he approached Tucker's desk.
"Yes. What is it?"
"I have a paper for you," the intruder announced, and drew from his pocket a folded document. He placed it in Tucker's hand. "See you in court, professor."
Grinning, he turned and left.
Tucker unfolded the paper and scanned it. He sighed and dropped it onto the desk in front of him.
"Well, this is it," he said sadly. "Criminal charges will be next. It looks as if Marcia wasn't overstating the case with her warning. I just couldn't believe those people on the task force would actually file charges against me."
"Are you going to fight them?" Bill asked.
"Of course. A man fights as long as he can. But a wise man knows when he's going to lose." Tucker stood. "Bill, you may as well have Pedro drive you and your family to the airport. It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?" He smiled wanly.
"Yes sir, it was," Bill admitted.
He couldn't help being sorry that things had turned out this way.
After Tucker had talked with his wife, Sara went to her son's bedroom. She found Derek alone, seated on his bed, a robe belted around him. He was listening to rock music on his radio.
Sara walked over and turned off the music. "Hurry up," she said. "You're going to pack. You and I are leaving here."
"Yeah?" The youth blinked. "What's happening?"
"Your father's in a lot of trouble and I'm not going to stay around and get dragged into it. Naturally you'll come with me."
Derek could hardly believe what his mother had said. "If Dad's in trouble, I'm going to stand by him," the youth asserted. "So should you, Mom."
"Don't tell me what I should do," Sara snapped. "What would you know about it? You're only a child."
But as she looked at him, she realized he was grown up in most ways. She also realized that it would hurt her a great deal to lose him.
She dropped onto the bed and took him in her arms. "Oh, Derek, please listen to your mother and do what she says," Sara pleaded, her hand moving along his side. The caress caused his robe to slip against his skin. He wore nothing underneath the loosely belted garment.
Neither mother nor son intended for it to happen, but the experiences they'd both had during the last few days had conditioned them to take a final depraved step into the shadow world of sex.
As Derek felt his mother's unbrassiered tits press pliantly against him and her hand move lovingly along his body, his cock tensed. As his robe slipped open, the rigid organ nosed upward through the garment's flap. Sara stared down at her son's standing prick.
"Derek!" she cried. "Oh, my little darling!"
But he was no longer little in any respect, and the part of him that she was looking at was surprisingly huge and man-like. Sara was overcome by the same kind of giddy surge that had made her seduce Kabo in the garden and had driven her to depraved lengths with the Fosters.
She grasped her son's erect penis, pointed it straight up toward her face and bowed her head. There was a wild rush of pressure inside her ears. Her blood raced. Her whole body tingled as she caught her son's cockhead in her mouth and began to suck on it eagerly.
Derek thrilled as never before. This was even more wonderful than making out with Marcia. He stared at his mother's bobbing dark head and felt the incomparable excitement of her sucking lips and stroking tongue on his cock. His resistance gave way, and his prick fountained into his mother's mouth. Blissful tremors shook him.
He moaned, "Mom...oh, Mom...Mom...I love you!"
"And I love you, darling," Sara said as she raised her face to look at him tenderly. Flecks of his semen were on her red lips.
Mother and son embraced, each knowing that they were embarked on a new relationship which would alter their lives.
In his study, Tucker looked up when Marcia entered the room.
"Well, it happened," he said. "You were right. Your friends blew the whistle on me, and I've been served with papers."
"Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry!" she cried, and rushed into his arms.
Marcia's only thought, at first, was to comfort her father in a daughterly way. But after the experience she'd had with Derek, the restraints which she had always taken for granted were shattered. As she felt her father's strong arms encircle her and his lean body pressing hers, she had an overwhelming urge to comfort him in a more basic way. If it was all right to do this with Derek, it surely was no worse to do it with her father.
The lovely young girl dropped to her knees in front of him. Tucker looked down in a daze as she quickly unzipped his fly and lifted out his flaccid prick. He watched unbelievingly-and thrilled to the tips of his toes-as his daughter took the head of his penis into her mouth.
The moment that she began to suck, his cock swelled to a splendid state of erection, the glans stuffing her mouth and the shaft stretching her pink, glistening lips.
"Marcia...my baby..." Tucker groaned as he began to fuck his long cock in and out of his daughter's mouth.
Marcia reached into his pants and fondled her father's balls. She bobbed her head forward and back, forward and back, taking his thick pecker all the way into her throat. She sucked hard and hunched rapidly, knowing that she would be satisfied only after she had taken the gush of his semen into her mouth and swallowed it.
Excited as he was, Tucker's ejaculation wasn't slow in coming. It burst from his balls in a veritable torrent and streamed through his long, straight, quivering prick into his daughter's sucking mouth. The flood of thick, slimy semen splashed into Marcia's throat and slid down to her stomach.
She continued to suck her father's penis until it was soft, then let it flop free.
She looked up at him with misty eyes and asked, "Did you enjoy that, Daddy?"
"My angel...oh, my baby...it was heaven..." he said, and dropped to the floor beside her.
His hands worked quickly with her clothes, freeing her lovely breasts, then exposing her magnificent brown-haired pussy. He dove deeply between her thighs and began to lick and suck her cunt.
He quickly achieved a new erection and, moments later, he was atop his beautiful daughter, working his wicked penis into her tight, slick snatch. As he sank his long rod into her, the girl gasped with delight.
Then she cried, "Fuck me, Daddy! Oh, fuck me haaard!"
As Tucker screwed his lovely young daughter, he marveled over what a day this had been. Marcia was marveling over the size and power of her father's prick, the prick that had given her life, which was now giving marvelous excitement to her.
"Fuck me, Daddy...fuck me!" she continued to cry.
When Bill, Joyce and Stacey left the mansion to get into the car, they were surprised to find Lola in the front seat of the Mercedes next to her husband, Pedro.
"We hope you don't mind, Mr. Foster," the chauffeur said, "but my wife and I are quitting the professor's employ, also. We intend to leave the car at the airport."
"That's interesting," Bill said, visually caressing Lola before he glanced at his wife. "Joyce, don't you suppose we could make room for a nice couple like this in our apartment back East-at least until they line up another job?"
Joyce looked at the handsome, dark-eyed chauffeur and felt a tingle. "Of course we could, Bill."
He asked Pedro, "Would you and Lola consider coming home with us as our guests for a while?"
"We would be honored," he said.
"Oh, yes," Lola agreed softly, her eyes warming as she looked at Bill. "I think we could all have a very good time together."
As they rode away from the mansion, Joyce sat in the front of the car next to Pedro. On the back seat, Bill sat between Stacey and Lola. The vehicle had proceeded but a short distance down the winding road toward the highway before hands began to stray.
Joyce's warmly circling fingers stroked Pedro's prick to a fine state of erection through his trousers, then unzipped his fly and let his cock surge free.
Bill ran his hands up between the warm, smooth thighs of the two pretty females who sat beside him. He teased two warm, hair-covered pussies through the thin, clinging nylon that covered them. Then he worked his way into Lola's and Stacey's panties and slid a finger up each eager cunt.
