It's been said that every person has some dark passion within his soul-some hidden secret, desire or whim that may never surface to be seen even by the closest confidante. Such a secret can be evil and sinister, or it may be trivial and trite.
In America, such dark passions are easily submerged and hidden by the complexities of modern everyday life. Yet, sometimes dark passion surfaces, and another Charles Manson emerges. Sometimes such passions are exposed-and another Tidal Basin or Watergate scandal hits the headlines.
THE BRIDE NEXT DOOR is the story of a couple that dares to let its most base desires and passions come to the fore. They are willing to accept the consequences, be they reward or punishment, for allowing themselves to become completely liberated. Their story is a startling insight into the lives of a family whose motto might be: "If it feels good, do it."
-The Publisher
Chapter One
"It's so ... so perfect, Paul!" Connie gasped as she hugged her husband joyfully and danced her eyes around the living room of their new home. "Everything's beautiful, just the way we talked about. Oh, darling, I love you! I never thought I could be so happy!"
Paul cupped her face in his strong hands, and his thumbs gently brushed away her tears. He was grinning down at her with obvious delight, enjoying the wonderful moment of her surprise and happiness.
"You don't know how glad I am to hear that, honey. I knew how you hated that apartment of mine, and I wanted everything to be just right for us. I wanted us to come back from our honeymoon to a real home instead of ... "
Connie impulsively smothered his words with a kiss, and her whole body tingled in a wave of sheer joy. Until five short days ago she wouldn't have thought herself capable of crying from such utter and complete fulfillment. When Paul had first asked her to be his wife, she hadn't let herself believe that he was really serious. Why would Paul Baker, a handsome aspiring young law student, want to marry such a shy, quiet girl as her?
Connie's own fears and disbelief had almost made her turn him down.
But now she knew beyond any qualms that she really was his wife, that her honeymoon wasn't some beautiful dream from which she would abruptly and horribly awaken. She was Mrs. Paul Baker, and he really did love her-enough to break through her shyness, enough to crumble all the defenses and inhibitions that had kept her a virgin to the age of twenty-one, enough to give her a home of her very own. Connie couldn't stop the tears. She didn't want to.
And that knowledge made the touch of Paul's lips sweep through her body like an electric current. Suddenly she felt herself melting against him, and her tongue playfully darted past his firm white teeth to lick and taste his.
Paul gasped at her unexpected horniness. His cock automatically leaped up to press against her belly, and a delicious surge of heat swept through Connie.
Instantly she felt the familiar pangs of lust, the itching and moistening in her cunt for his hard unyielding prick. In the past five days she had begun to learn the pleasure of sex-real sex, not merely the occasional clit-rubbing fantasies that had gotten her through high school and two years of college. The honeymoon changed all that. Now the touch of Paul's hard cock pressing against her body made her little-used cunt all squishy and hot with a gush of horny juices.
Connie broke off the kiss long enough to smile tantalizingly as her greedy hands reached down to rub the bulge of his prick, making it strain even harder in the encumbrance of his jeans.
"Darling," she whispered in a voice that cracked with sudden overwhelming need. "Oh, I love you so much, Paul. I ... I want you, I want to feel you inside me. Please, please ..."
Paul's face flushed in a mixture of surprise and lust at his bride's abrupt horniness. He gave her a lopsided grin that twitched as her hands eagerly ran over the denim length of his rigid cock and cupped his warm, heavy balls. His voice made a cracked attempt to joke.
"Right here, in the middle of the afternoon? Don't you even want to get used to the place first? God, what a shameless wench my wife has become!"
But his joking attitude didn't stop him from allowing himself to be pulled down to the shag-carpeted floor as Connie pulled his hard lean body to hers, at the same time fumbling with his belt. She licked her full lips and glanced at him impishly, not trying to hide the pure hunger in her expression.
"Our honeymoon isn't over yet, buster!" she said. "And besides, we have to break in our new home sometime, don't we?"
The itching in her cunt was growing more and more demanding, more and more eager to be filled by Paul's long, stiff hot prick. Connie's shoulder-length blonde curls spread themselves over the carpet, and Paul's lips came down on hers in a deep probing kiss as her hands plunged beneath his jeans to grasp his cock.
He groaned beneath her clutching fingers, and his hands instantly leaped to her pale blue T-shirt and jerked it up to her shoulders, displaying her bare creamy-white tits with their upright pink nubs.
For a moment-the merest flicker of an instant-Connie hesitated. They had never done anything like this in broad daylight before-at least, not without a blanket or sheet to cover them. Paul, knowing how shy and easily embarrassed she could be, had never tried to force the matter.
But everything was happening so suddenly-the new house, her own overwhelming surge of joy and sudden horniness-that now she felt a fresh wave of pleasure just seeing the way he was looking down on her bare, pert little tits, feasting his eyes on them. Connie could clearly see the hunger in his face, and instead of being embarrassed she felt a totally new thrill of excitement that sent the ache in her cunt soaring in a new gush of hot steamy cream.
Glowing in this strange new sensation, sliding one hand up and down the pole of his throbbing cock while the other rubbed his sweating bristle-fuzzed balls, Connie felt no shame or embarrassment at all. In fact, she suddenly wanted him to see her completely, to see and touch and kiss every crevice and curve of her body.
Tauntingly she arched her back, making her firm small breasts jut out toward his face and the little inflamed nipples stand even more erect.
"Oh, touch them, baby. You want to, I can see it! Kiss them, Paul. Suck them and kiss them until I can't stand it any more! Please, before I go crazy!"
Now it was Paul's turn to lick his dry lips. "Anything you want, honey. Never let it be said I wasn't a dutiful hus ..."
Even as he spoke, Connie thrust her pert boobs at his mouth. Paul's tongue flicked out and caressed one of them, licking wet trails all around its quivering whiteness before concentrating on the taut straining nipple.
Connie watched in horny fascination as he teased the pale pink, bumpy peak, sending shivers through her. Then his rough tongue darted across the nub of her nipple, lengthening it even more with his caress. His hand was playing with her other tit, kneading its rigidity with his palm. Connie giggled at the sight of her boob disappearing inside Paul's mouth.
Her panties were soaked completely through, and her cunt gushed beneath her skirt and dribbled its precious juice down the juncture of her thighs and tickled the few tiny blonde curls that ended abruptly at the moist pink puckered eye of her asshole. She saw his cheeks hollow inward as he sucked her small breast completely into the warmth of his mouth, and just the act of watching sent shudders through her like nothing she had ever felt before.
The excitement of seeing him kiss and fondle her tits made Connie moan in a release of pent-up breath. "Oh, darling, more, do me all the way . . . mmm ... it tingles so! Do all of me ... oh it feels so good!"
Paul needed no further urging. Knowing what she wanted and how she wanted it, he moved his mouth away from her slick wet tits and ran kisses down her rippling belly. He grabbed the elastic waistband of her skirt and tugged it down while his tongue probed deep into the tiny dark pit of her navel. Connie groaned and lifted her hips, letting him inch her skirt down in a crisp crinkle of fabric until it slipped from her legs, displaying the white cuntjuice-soaked triangle of her panties.
Connie couldn't take her eyes from him, not even as his hands pushed at her sticky panties, and the first delicate blonde-brown curls of her yearning pussy popped free. His body shifted half-around, and now both her hands were pumping his cock in rhythm to the wave of lust that seared through her.
Paul's fingers slid across her thighs and pushed her panties down until her legs slipped free of them. Now Connie was almost totally nude beneath the gaze of her husband, clothed only by the band of the T-shirt pushed up around her shoulders. For the very first time, she was letting him see her body in broad daylight without making any attempt to cover herself. And she felt no embarrassment at all. She wanted him to see her now, to know every inch of her completely.
After all Paul had given her-love, marriage, a wonderful new life, and now this beautiful home for them both. How much was it asking that she overcome all the inhibitions and shyness of a life that had been so empty before she met him?
And how much better it would be if she happened to enjoy it!
Paul's mouth moved lower, caressing the first dew-drenched hairs that guarded her burning cunt, and Connie spread her legs wide without shame, giving him a complete view of her damp pussy. His hips had moved nearly to meet her face, and Connie could smell the sweet-acrid sweat of his lust for her, while her hands jerked his demin-hidden cock faster.
Paul stared down at her pink slit and the wet cream that dribbled from between her flaring open cuntlips. His voice reached her, cracked and hungry: "It's beautiful . . . more perfect than I even imagined. So sweet and perfumed . . . needing to be kissed. That's just what it needs, baby."
He bent down, his lips brushed against the slit of her gaping cunt, and his tongue slid tenderly down the length of it.
Connie gasped and arched her soft-cheeked ass up as if his tongue were a magnet. Paul's strong hands were wrapped around her hips, and he pulled her asscheeks apart until her honey-sweetened asshole winked open.
"Beautiful," he whispered as though in a trance. "Beautiful, perfect little ass, so soft and wet He kissed the tight lips of her puckered little hole, ran his tongue all over the rim and unexpectedly dug in.
Connie had never felt anything like it before. Her body surged in the ecstasy of having Paul's tongue lick her asshole-just like a soft slurpy cock-soothing her tensed ass-muscles, filling her shitter with wet warmth, and she wished suddenly that it was his cock, plunging its load of hot jism completely into her. Her hips jerked in rhythm to Paul's probing tongue, and small purring sounds escaped her throat.
"Oh ... oh baby," she gasped. "I want you in me everywhere, do it ... do it, oh . . . mmm . . . baby! My cunt . . . suck my cunt ... oh it itches. Fuck me, fuck me in the ass! Oh in my cunt . . . Paul!"
Paul's tongue slid free of her winking asshole and moved up, pushing apart her sweet cuntlips, lapping at her hair-covered cunt. He dipped briefly into the flowing well of her juices, then moved up to tickle the tiny hooded bump of her clit.
Connie's eyes glazed as fire burst from the very core of her little cunt, and she gave a small cry as he licked and teased, sending her toward an oblivion unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Hazily, she grew aware of the cock in her hands-the pulsing live prick so close to her face. While Paul's tongue sent shivering paroxysms through her stiff clit, Connie saw her own hands pulling and tugging at his jeans, allowing his hard reddened prick to spring free.
Paul's cock was huge-over seven inches long. She'd never seen any other man's cock before, except in pictures, and she hadn't ever seen Paul's cock like this, so enormous and nakedly powerful in the deepening light of late afternoon. Her hands closed around it once more, and she saw the inflamed tip glisten with wetness as it reached for her, mere inches from her face.
Connie had never really examined it before this moment. She had touched it once or twice for brief instants, had felt it plunge into her small cunt in a wonderful mixture of pain and pleasure, had even then been a little frightened by the very hugeness of it. And now, hypnotized by the throbbing, quivering cock in her hands, Connie leaned forward and kissed it.
Paul groaned, and his tongue attacked her hard little clit unmercifully. Connie licked the droplets of pre-cum from the tip of his prick and discovered that she didn't mind the taste of it at all. She kissed the sensitive red cockhead and opened her mouth to engulf it.
Paul's body jerked, and suddenly his prick leaped into her throat, forcing apart her wet lips and jamming in hilt-deep.
"Oh, God," she heard him moan as his cock began to pump into her mouth, "don't stop, baby don't stop! Suck me, that's it, suck, suck ..."
His tongue hardened and plunged into her cunt. Connie rose off the floor to receive it, filled with mingled pleasure and fear as his cock threatened to choke her. She sucked, drawing her head back and forth just like a wet, tight cunt in rhythm to Paul's guiding tongue, until she could taste the gathering salty flavor of his hot jism. The taste made her head pump even faster, while his tongue darted deeper and deeper into her cunt. Suddenly she pulled back, her body heaving with urgency.
"Fuck me!" she cried out. "Oh, Paul, fuck me! Baby, stick it into me . . . oh, your beautiful, beautiful long sweet stick!"
The pleading in her voice penetrated Paul, and he quickly drew his tongue out and crawled around to straddle Connie's gaping-wide legs. He had no time to hesitate as her hands clutched claw-like into the cheeks of his ass and wrenched, shoving his cockhead completely into her cunt.
Connie cried out at the abruptness of her own actions, but this time there was no pain at all. Just wave upon wave of hunger, climbing one on top of the other as his hard cock pushed into her, forced apart the soaked lips of her pussy and dove deep into her tight hole. Her fingernails raked red trails across his asscheeks, and her hips lifted to take in all of him until the very base of his prick jammed against the bump of her clit and his furry balls mashed against her pink gaping asshole.
"Oh, honey, screw me . . . fuck me ... oh . . . ohhh ..."
Connie writhed wildly as Paul revolved his hips, sinking into her with searing need, until she thought the very walls of her little-used pussy would burst apart. Deeper and deeper he plunged, and Connie felt herself coming again and again.
This was how she wanted it-to be the slave of Paul's cock, to feel it controlling her with each twist and plunge. Like a part of Paul, gripping his ass until she felt wetness under her fingernails, Connie clung to the cock that soothed her terrible itch and made her brain cloud with fulfillment, faster and faster until it seemed it would never end, and she would never want it to . . .
Vaguely she heard Paul's heaving gasps. His body tautened with final driving force, and her hips lifted to meet him. Steaming jism spurted into her, and Connie's oblivion made her cry out as she rose to catch it all-every last precious drop. Paul made a hissing sound in his throat, and they clung to each other as they came in unison, draining them totally.
Then they collapsed together in a heap, with a final lingering kiss to seal the final dregs of their fucking. Paul's chin was still wet and sticky with Connie's cunt juice, but she didn't care. His cum dribbled from her warm, full cunt, making it tingle.
"Mmm, that was good," she sighed, then smiled mischievously. "Now our new home isn't a virgin any more, is it?"
Paul laughed out loud, and his hand trailed tenderly across her softly heaving chest. "I begin to suspect that I'm married to a nut . . . and an insatiable little nut, at that. I've never seen you so, so . . . Oh, shit, honey, if I'd known you'd be that way, we would have spent our entire honeymoon here. I never thought a fuck could be that good. Damn, my ass hurts!"
Connie wrinkled her nose playfully. She could feel the slight stirring of his cock still lodged in her sopping twat, and it made her want to laugh with pure uninhibited joy. "Don't use those words. They sound so naughty!" she said teasingly.
He chuckled, and the vibrations that jiggled his cock inside her made Connie tingle all over. "And the fact that the two of us are lying here like this right in the middle of the day isn't naughty. Besides, you were carrying on pretty well, yourself: 'Oh, honey, screw me, fuck me . . . ' "
Connie gave a giggling gasp of horror and slapped a hand over his mouth. "I did not! I never say things like that!" But she knew, even as she denied it, that she had.
For the first time since their marriage-for the very first time in her entire sheltered life-she had felt the complete freedom of release. She could remember all her mother's lectures and warnings, and they all seemed so silly now. Sex wasn't a bad or nasty thing at all, and with each passing day she was growing to like it more and more.
Do you hear that, Mom? Connie thought with a giggle. I like it!
"God, I love you so much, Paul," she whispered huskily, wriggling to make his cock feel alive and horny again.
Paul smiled. "I love you too, baby." Then his smile grew into a hungry grin as her wriggling had its effect. "And to prove that, I think we ought to consecrate every room right now. Let's see . . . including the upstairs, there are seven altogether, you know."
Connie reached down and slapped his sore ass playfully. "How did I ever get tied up with such a sex maniac? And one who can't even count, no less! Aren't there any closets in this place?"
They laughed together, and she pulled his head down for a kiss, a kiss that instantly grew fervent and demanding.
Then someone hammered on the front door and a man's voice shouted, "Hey, you kids, open up! It's not polite to keep guests with gifts waiting!"
Chapter Two
The sudden sound startled them both. Paul slumped helplessly against her. "Oh damn," he whispered in Connie's ear, "It sounds like our new neighbors have come to call on us."
"Neighbors?" Connie answered dimly, feeling the pleasure of the last moments begin to fade away.
Somehow, she hadn't thought of having neighbors. Her first thoughts on seeing the tastefully decorated two-story house, almost at the outskirts of town, were that the two of them could be alone now, away from gossipy old ladies and noisy kids like those in Paul's apartment building, making her dread the thought of living there. And now, here in a home of their own practically outside the city limits, already they had neighbors banging down the door!
"Well, I guess I'd better let them in," Paul said, starting to rise.
Connie clutched him, stopped his cock from sliding from its wet sheath. "Oh, don't! Maybe they'll go away. This is our honeymoon! I don't remember inviting anyone else to join in!"
He chuckled but pulled away, despite her efforts to hold him. His prick slid loosely out of her with a small slurping plop. "I wish I could, but if we're going to live here we can't be hermits, even though I'd like to try. Besides, I've already met Harvey and Irene, and I know you'll like them. They even helped out when I was fixing the place up for us, so we've got to be nice, okay?"
He was already zipping his jeans as he talked. Connie sighed forlornly, pulled her skirt down and reached for her panties. They were still damp, and when she pulled them up she could feel them soak through instantly, could feel the gathering of Paul's jism on the silken fabric as it threatened to trickle down her leg. But Paul was already going for the door, and there was no time to run and change. Quickly she smoothed down her skirt and ran fingers through her thick golden hair, making herself at least presentable. Then she caught herself smiling, actually pleased that she was smelly and sweaty, that Paul's cum was seeping slowly from the depths of her soft, hot cunt.
It served these people right if she shocked them! Why did people have to barge in so soon, anyway?
Surprised and delighted by her own brazenness, Connie swept forward as Paul opened the door.
The man and woman who walked in were the oddest-looking couple Connie had ever seen. As they caught sight of her, both of them paused, and the man whistled, making her blush.
"Good to see you again, Harve," Paul said with a proud grin.
He knew as well as Connie that the people were sizing her up, and she felt none of the irrational fears she would have felt just a week ago at the thought of meeting strangers. She no longer wanted to hide; if anything, she wanted them to stare, to see her new-found happiness. And seeing this new trait in her made Paul's grin widen.
"Harve, I want you to meet my bride of five days now, Connie. Connie, Harve and ... oh hell, and I just mentioned it, too . . ."
"Irene," said the woman in a warm, deep sexy voice as she quickly came forward to take Connie's hand and give her a friendly peck on the cheek. "Isn't that just like men? At first glance they memorize every inch of your body, but your name they forget."
Connie couldn't help returning Irene's infectious smile, despite a momentary twinge of jealousy. The first word Irene made Connie think of was "beautiful". Irene was a beautiful woman. Everything Connie had, she had-only more so. Her sleek raven-black hair fell far past her shoulders, shiny and lustrous even out of the late-afternoon sun. A glaring red halter barely contained such huge, full tits that even Connie had to stare. She had never seen such a pair-they were an artist's dream, jutting out defiantly despite their hugeness against the flimsy fabric of the halter. Connie's own precious little apples-right now she could only think of them as "applets"-would have seemed tiny and insignificant in comparison, if she had not still been in the midst of a new sense of joy and freedom.
And the contrast hardly stopped there. Irene's skin held a deep, rich tan that made Connie seem ghostly pale. Her hips, clad in short cut-off jeans, swayed naturally, sensuously, with every movement of her body. And though she looked a few years older than Connie, her face met all the requirements of that perfect body-full soft lips, high cheekbones and a pert nose, wide striking blue eyes that now gazed at Connie with such honesty, such openness, that she could hardly help but be drawn.
Compared to Irene, Connie could have been a sickly kid sister. A week ago, before Paul, she would have felt a mere child beside Irene.
"I know you're going to love it here, the way Harve and I do," Irene was saying, still holding Connie's hand. "You don't know how great it is having you right next door, Connie. I want you to know that you're welcome to drop in any time." She gave Connie's fingers a squeeze, then released her.
"Why, thank you," Connie answered, caught up in Irene's friendly glow. Perhaps having neighbors wouldn't be so bad after all. "I mean . . . thanks, Irene. Really."
"Sorry to barge in," broke in Harve, and Connie turned to see that he was eyeing her up and down. "But we thought you two were ignoring us. And offhand, I can sure see why."
Connie returned his blatant stare boldly. Harve was the reason they had struck her as a strange couple. A heavy set balding man in ragged T-shirt and worn Bermuda shorts, he hardly looked the match for a beauty like Irene. His double-chinned, sweating face was lined by a day-old growth of beard, and his beady eyes surveyed Connie in a way that reminded her of a butcher observing a new piece of meat. At a second glance, he really wasn't too many years Paul's senior, but his outward appearance made him look much older. He was grinning at their rumpled condition, and his teeth were yellowed and uneven.
What could Irene possibly see in him? she wondered.
"Oh, yeah," Harve said, his eyes still fastened to Connie, "I can see why, all right. Nothing like a real housewarming . . . eh? We thought we'd bring you two a little gift." He held up two bottles, then shoved them into Paul's hands. "The champagne's for the newly weds, but from the looks of you, I'm not so sure you need it. I also brought Scotch for any hard-drinkers in the crowd. That's me, by the way."
Paul laughed politely. "We'll use it in good health, anyway. I was just showing Connie our handiwork."
Harvey nodded. "Well, Missy, what do you think? Have we done right by you?"
Behind his crude mannerisms, Connie sensed that he was harmless, and she allowed herself to return his smile. "Yes," she said, beaming. "Oh, yes, it's perfect! I never could have hoped for anything as lovely. And all the time Paul was doing this ... I had no idea! It was such a wonderful surprise!"
Harve laughed and poked Paul in the ribs with a meaty finger. "Didn't I tell you she'd like it? Now, you just remember to listen to Old Dad, boy, 'cause he knows what women like." And with that, he winked broadly at Irene, who merely shook her head and shrugged helplessly.
Paul laughed, and even Connie found herself beginning to like Harvey. He wasn't really all that bad, once you overcame that first impression. He seemed more like a big fuzzy teddy bear-lovable and cute, despite himself. Connie decided for certain that she didn't really mind her new neighbors, after all.
"I'd better get this on ice," Paul said, waving the two bottles. "I want all of you to get acquainted. Harve, you and Irene have a seat. I'll be back in a roaring flash with some glasses."
"Please," Connie motioned as he vanished into the kitchen, "sit down. I'd ask to show you around, but it seems everyone knows the house better than I do."
"Then why don't I show you around?" asked Irene. "I can show you nooks and crannies we never touched. There are so many things to do."
"Now, none of that," Harvey caught Irene's hand and pulled her with him to the divan. He sat down, letting his weight drag Irene onto his lap. "Let the girl find her own way around her new home. I don't want you acting like the tour guide of some musty old museum, pointing out all the highlights. This is Connie's house . . . right?"
"You're impossible!" blurted Irene, but without anger. She resisted only a moment as his heavy arms swept about her waist, and Connie couldn't help but notice the way her mammoth boobs almost bounced free of her red halter. Then Irene gave in, casting an apologetic smile in the direction of the chair where Connie sat, across from them. "Harvey's right, of course, in his own rather unpleasant way. But don't let him fool you. After you get to know him, he's even worse."
"And don't let Bubs fool you, either," returned Harve. "This lady loves every minute of it."
"Bubs?" Connie asked innocently.
Harvey grinned, and his sausage-like fingers slid up the sheer fabric of Irene's halter to encircle her deluxe-size tits. "Sure. That's my little nickname for these." To emphasize his explanation he squeezed them, making them swell dangerously. Irene laughed and struggled briefly, but not seriously, to escape. "Harvey, stop it! Connie doesn't even know us yet! How do you expect her to understand that you always act this way?"
"Oh, she doesn't mind ... do you, Connie?" He flashed his yellow teeth at her. "Besides, what's wrong with two people showing some affection for a change? If more people were like us, there'd be less trouble in the world, you can just bet your sweet bubs!"
Connie stared in shock as Irene surrendered to the soft kneading motions of Harve's hand. She saw the bumps of Irene's nipples pop out beneath his fingers. She heard Irene's small gasp as he plucked at them between thumb and forefinger, stretching them out even further.
And dimly she heard herself reply: "No, no I don't mind at all."
That surprised her most of all. The sight of big fat Harvey playing with Irene's tits should have outraged her. It should have made her want to throw them both out, or at the very least tell them what she thought of their indecent behavior. But she felt no desire to do either. In fact, the sight of them made her feel warm, even closer to them than before. The way they behaved, their openness and affection, attracted Connie. Irene and Harvey were so obviously in love, she couldn't help but feel drawn. Loving Paul had done that to her. Before him, she probably would have reacted with embarrassment and disgust, but now she could only admire the intimate way Harvey embraced Irene, and the obvious pleasure she felt at his touch. It made Connie wish that someday she and Paul might be so proud of their love that appearances wouldn't matter.
The sudden image of Paul nuzzling and caressing her small pert tits, in some restaurant or crowded theater, made Connie smile, made her tingle. It would be so nice to be like Irene, to enjoy that much attentiveness, to let other people gape and envy her.
Connie broke out of her daydream with a start, and saw that Harvey was staring. She followed his gaze to her chest and saw what held his attention- thoughts of Paul's hands and lips on her small boobs, combined with the sight of Harvey's manipulations, had hardened her nipples. They pointed out through her T-shirt in a way that couldn't be missed, and Connie felt her face grow hot as an unexpected surge of warmth radiated from her still-soaked cunt, making it itch all over again.
She pushed aside an instinctive urge to hide them from his stare, realizing that he was actually paying her a compliment. Irene's boobs were so much bigger and more perfect, yet as Harvey's thick fingers played with them, his eyes were fastened on Connie. Well, let him look! Maybe she had something to be proud of too!
Irene was leaning back against him, enjoying his little pinches and caresses. "It's my own fault, I guess. I knew he was a tit man from the beginning, so I have to put up with it. And to be honest, it does feel so nice!"
"Does Paul give you this kind of treatment?" Harvey teased, still staring at the jutting little buds of Connie's boobs.
Giddily, excited despite herself, Connie joked the question off. "Not very often, I'm afraid. Mine are so small, he can hardly find them."
They all laughed, and Connie felt lightheaded at her own brazenness. Harvey appraised her critically, and shook his head. "In that case, I've got to have a talk with that boy. Like they say, the greatest treasures are always small."
His eyes had drifted down to Connie's legs and the dark crevice where her skirt rose above her knees. His stare made her unconsciously press her legs together, and she felt the soft squishing of juices left from her earlier fucking. The memory of their wild abandon on the living room floor increased the itching of her sopping cunt, and suddenly she had a mischievous, crazy urge: What would old teddy-bear Harvey do if she just let her knees part, if she slowly spread them wide and let him see completely up her skirt, let him gape at her wet panties plastered to her cunt, let him see the, open pink lips of her pussy, still warm and pulsating from Paul's cock? Wouldn't that make him forget Irene's boobs? Wouldn't that make his fingers twitch?
The sudden impulse quickened her breath, and at that moment Paul returned, bearing a tray that held the two bottles and four half-filled glasses.
"Hey, it's getting a little dark in here!" He went around flicking on lights with his free hand, precariously balancing the tray in the other. "You must be having quite a conversation to not even notice."
Instantly, Irene leaped from her husband's lap and ran to meet him, hard-nippled jugs joggling. "Now, Paul, you just sit with your wife and let me do the serving." Before he could protest, she had taken the tray from his hands and pushed him toward Connie.
Paul sat on the floor at Connie's feet, and his hand reached up to grasp hers, while Irene passed out the drinks.
Connie sipped hers hesitantly. She had only tasted champagne once before-on her wedding night-and it had tasted bitter and unpleasant to her then, just as it did now. But this time, she found that she really didn't mind the taste at all. In fact, it was refreshing. Before she knew it, she had drained her glass.
"Mmm, that was good. Is there any more?"
Harvey and Irene both laughed, and Paul refilled her glass. "Better go easy, honey. That stuff can hit you pretty hard if you're not used to it."
But Connie ignored his warning. The champagne relaxed her, reminded her of those luscious, warm moments after fucking with Paul. Everything in her life seemed so different now, so beautiful. She would never have believed she could feel so comfortable and happy. Here she sat, in her own house, with her husband beside her and two new friends visiting. It all made her dreary, innocent past seem like a drab dream that had never really existed. Now she wanted only to enjoy the present, to make up for all the time lost. She drank deeply and held out her glass again.
"For Chrissakes, Connie!" Paul winced at her empty glass. "Our neighbors are going to think I'm married to a real souse."
"Oh, let her have her fun," Harvey intervened, "Besides, I have a toast to make."
Reluctantly Paul filled her glass once more, and Harvey stood up, brandishing his drink theatrically. "To the newly weds, our new neighbors . . . may better friends never be found."
Connie tossed down her champagne and giggled, fighting back the wave of dizziness that coursed through her. "That was lovely, Harve."
Irene wrinkled her nose. "Until you've heard it for the thousandth time, that is. It's the only toast he knows."
"Worth drinking to, anyway," Paul said with a grin. "But you haven't touched yours, Irene."
This time it was Irene's turn to blush, and Harvey collapsed on the divan, laughing. "The lady can't hold her liquor," he chuckled. "One stiff belt, and she's zapped for the evening! Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
Irene glanced at him, flushing with anger at Harvey's mocking tone. "Fuck you, sweetheart." And with that, she raised her glass and gulped the champagne down, making Harvey laugh even harder.
"How long have you been married?" Connie asked abruptly.
Irene choked on her drink, and Harvey burst out afresh, tears streaming from his eyes. "Married?" he cackled. "Married?"
Irene looked at Connie, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Harve lives on one side of you, and I live on the other."
"Married!" Harvey chortled, and Irene's face clouded with anger.
"At least that's the arrangement," she went on, glaring at him. "And it's getting more and more temporary every minute."
"Now hold on," Harvey managed weakly. "Don't get that pretty body of yours in an uproar. We've both tried the marriage route before, and it just didn't work for either of us. So don't go trying to convince Connie and Paul that you're the injured party, okay? You're not looking for another failure any more than I am!"
"But I may be looking for another try," Irene said softly, and suddenly Connie felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she wanted to get married, and just as obvious that Harvey liked things the way they were. It made Connie feel relieved that she had Paul and that they were happy together.
Abruptly Irene stood up, weaving a little drunkenly, even though she'd only had one glass. "All of a sudden, things are getting too serious, and this is supposed to be a party. And what's a party without music? Come on, Paul. Surely you have something around here to give us some music!"
She bent down to grab Paul's arm, and her gigantic tits dangled invitingly before his face, barely restrained by her red halter. Connie felt a sudden flash of jealousy at the way Paul stared as he let himself be pulled to his feet.
"Sure," he said, regaining his voice. "I've got a stereo right over here."
Connie watched as the two of them sauntered over to the record player, Irene clutching Paul's arm for support all the way.
"Need a refill?" asked Harve, holding out the champagne bottle. "We're creating ourselves quite a little drunken brawl here, aren't we? Irene's already bombed out of her skull, and the rest of us aren't far behind. But what the hell, it's the cocktail hour ... it must be, somewhere."
Connie giggled as he leaned forward to fill her glass, and a blast of music erupted from behind her. "This is more alcohol than I've had in my whole life! Are you trying to get me drunk, Harve?"
Harvey laughed, and his hand swayed, spilling droplets of champagne on the floor. "Of course I am, Missy. Then you and I are going to sneak off to Tahiti and leave those two alone."
He nodded in the direction of Paul and Irene, and Connie craned her head around. Though a hard rock song was playing, they were dancing slowly, and Irene's arms were entwined around Paul. As she watched, Irene nuzzled the hollow of his neck and pulled herself tighter to him. And Paul didn't seem to mind one bit. He caught Connie's stare and gave her a lopsided, embarrassed grin, shrugging helplessly.
Fuming, Connie turned back, too angry to watch. She gulped her drink and almost choked on it.
"Now, now, Missy," soothed Harvey. "They aren't doing anything to be upset about, or I'd be the first to holler. In a way, I guess it's my own fault for teasing Irene into taking that drink. She knows she can't handle the stuff. And Paul doesn't strike me as being a heavy boozer, himself. I guess I'm the only one around here who can really handle it." He grinned stupidly, wavering where he sat.
"Why don't you get married?" Connie asked unabashed, not entirely over her anger. "Irene would like to. Any woman could tell that."
"And limit myself to just one woman?" Harvey gasped mockingly. You see this body was made for love?" He patted his fat belly, and Connie had to laugh at that.
Her sudden change in mood made her head weave, and she closed her eyes, feeling her brain spin beneath all the champagne she had drunk. When she opened them again, she saw Harvey raise his glass to his lips-and halt suddenly, staring.
Then Connie saw that she had let her legs slide apart, opening a deep dark cavern before his greedy eyes. And instantly she realized the horny thoughts that were echoed in Harvey's eager look. He was staring directly into the darkness between her legs, imagining what her soft, fuzz-covered cunt looked like. Connie almost laughed out loud at the horny expression on his face, recalling her earlier impulse to do just this. And his amazed, lustful look was exactly as she had pictured it.
Now a new fascination overcame Connie. All her life she had hardly ever dated, had fled fearfully from men until at last she met persistent Paul. Now she wasn't that shy, frightened girl any more, and she was determined never, ever to be that girl again. Paul had shown her that she was desirable, and in the past five days she had come to accept that possibility.
But now, with Harvey, she had an unexpected chance to prove it. That and a lingering trace of jealous anger at Paul kept her from quickly closing the gap between her legs. Instead, she slowly moved them even further apart, tantalizing Harvey.
Her eyes gleamed with pleasure at his expression.
Harvey stared. His mouth opened, but no words came out. She could feel his staring gaze trying to penetrate the black pit between her smooth creamy thighs, and the mere thought made her tingle. She could feel her juices beginning to stir again, wetting her still-damp panties.
For the first time, Connie knew the forbidden excitement of power. She had never felt this way before, not even with Paul. She had never felt so delightfully sexy and in command of the situation -almost as if Harvey were her obedient slave. She was the one in control, to hide or show her wet pussy as she desired, and Harve-poor teddy-bear Harve-had no choice but to sit and stare.
Finally he managed to speak in a rattling voice. "I . . . " He cleared his throat. "I think I could use another belt."
"Mmm," Connie said dreamily, watching his eyes try-but fail-to turn away as he reached for the Scotch bottle. His gaze kept darting back to the point where her thighs melted into darkness. "I think I'll join you, if you don't mind," Connie said.
Harvey found the champagne and held the bottle p. "Sorry, Missy, but you've polished it off."
"Then maybe I'll drink some of your Scotch," she said in a tone that was almost a command.
"Look, Missy, I think you've had enough for toni ..."
"Harvey!" Connie leaned drunkenly forward, cupping her glass with both hands, and her elbows brushed back her skirt several inches as if by accident.
And Harvey almost dropped the Scotch. Now he could see the outline of her panties, their smooth, pink silken fabric spotted by wetness. He licked his lips, and Connie felt her cuntjuice gush, "Pour me, Harve," she commanded.
Harvey poured. He couldn't take his eyes off her panties and her wet juicy cunt. He could see the wetness seeping through, making her panties transparent, until the dark, moist curls of her cunt showed through. He could smell the sweet-salty aroma of her cunt, could almost taste it.
Connie saw his Bermuda shorts bulge conspicuously, and that only increased her cunt-itching sense of power over him. She leaned back again, letting one hand slide her skirt up even farther.
"Thank you, Harve. My, it's getting so warm in here. Do you like my legs, Harve?"
She raised her legs into the air, pretending to examine them critically. "You don't think they're too thin, do you?" Slowly she brought her legs together, then separated them, wider and wider apart until her knees touched the arms of the chair and her creaming sweet cunt gaped open to Harvey's view.
His voice cracked, and the bulge in his shorts threatened to rip through the material and let his horny fat cock stand straight up. "Oh Christ, it's perfect . . . just perfect, Missy."
"Why, thank you, Harve." Connie's voice taunted him, proving her complete power. She gulped a heavy slug of Scotch and ran a hand between her thighs, until her fingers reached the moist pit of her own growing itch. She let her fingers dip briefly into her cunt, let them brush lightly against her rigid hooded clit. "I'm glad you approve. Of my legs, that is. We're going to be wonderful neighbors, aren't we?"
Harve's face was dripping with sweat. "You can bet we are, honey. You can sure bet on that." He tossed down the last of his drink.
Then a sudden snapping sound reached them above the music, and they both turned to see Irene standing by the stereo with her bare tits jutting forward, and Paul standing dumbly before her with her halter in his hands.
Irene gave them a look of total surprise, making no attempt to cover herself, and shrugged. "It broke." Then she began to giggle. "It . . . ripped . . . right off!"
Then she was laughing wildly, and her gleaming naked tits bounced and jiggled as Paul joined her laughter, and even Harvey chuckled. And Connie saw that even as Paul laughed, his stare was directed at Irene's dark dancing nipples.
Suddenly flaring with jealousy, she stood up, swaying, and stalked toward him, angered by the hungry way he followed Irene's heaving tits. Drunkenly, Connie planted her feet, glaring, as Paul turned to her. "If you like titties so much, then here!"
And she pulled up her T-shirt with a jerk, displaying her own small boobs.
For some reason, this only made Paul and Irene laugh harder, though Harvey's beady eyes stared greedily. Stung by Paul's laughter, Connie felt the tears welling in her eyes. Though she knew it was the effect of the alcohol, she couldn't help feeling hurt.
"You only want to see hers because they're bigger! Mine aren't good enough for you!"
Then she began to cry in earnest.
Immediately Paul stopped laughing, though he had to fight to keep it down. "Now that's not true and you know it, Connie," he said, taking his drunk little bride into his arms. "I guess we've all had a full day and a little too much to drink. I'd better put my wife to bed."
They said their goodbyes for the evening, and Connie let her husband lead her upstairs.
Chapter Three
"Are you all right, hon?" Paul poked his head into the bathroom doorway.
Connie heard his voice above the streaming splash of the shower, and answered without parting the shower curtain: "Much better, darling. Be out in a minute!"
She heard the bathroom door close, and she released a shuddering breath of relief that she didn't have to face him just yet. The warm rushing spray of water that coursed over her body, combined with the coffee and sandwiches Paul had forced down her earlier, all had their inevitable sobering effect, and now Connie was faced with the full harsh memory of her own disgusting behavior.
How could she have done those terrible things? The way she had teased poor Harvey, showing herself to him like some kind of wicked tramp, and as if that wasn't enough, pulling up her shirt and showing off her small tits in a drunken gesture of jealousy-Connie felt the blood rush to her face with the vivid memory. And the way Paul and Irene had laughed-she had never felt so humiliated in her life. What must her neighbors think of her now? What must Paul think of his bride?
Connie shut off the shower and stepped out into the smartly decorated bathroom adjoining the master bedroom. She toweled herself dry before the full-length mirror fastened securely to the back of the door.
The towel ran down across a rippling flat tummy to brush the springy wet patch of blonde fur of her precious cunt, gently stroking the curls into life. She knew how much Paul liked her little triangle of fuzz, like to run his fingers through it and feel its sponginess against the hard base of his hungry cock as he plunged deep, deep inside her.
The thought made Connie tingle with warmth, and her cunt began to cream instantly. Suddenly she was feeling much better, though still a little abashed. It was such a wonderful new feeling to be able to excite, to prove that she was desirable. No wonder she had let herself be carried away! For the first time in her life she felt attractive, deliciously sensuous and beautiful. Was it really any wonder that she wanted to share that feeling with the whole world, wanted everyone to know how proud she had become of her own body?
Paul was standing beside the bed, pulling off his shirt before the open bedside window, as she entered. Immediately he dropped the shirt on a chair and went to her, concern filling his face, and Connie eagerly swept into the strong, gentle embrace of his arms.
"Feeling better now, darling?" he asked her.
"Yes." She gazed up at his ruggedly handsome face, had to smile at the love she saw there, and all her humiliation came spilling out. "Oh, Paul, I'm so embarrassed! I just got so carried away . . . the champagne and the house and everything was so wonderful. I didn't mean to act that way! Harvey and Irene were so nice, and then I had to make a jealous fool of myself and I don't blame you for laughing at me one bit . . . "
"Whoa, now." Grinning, Paul put his fingers over her lips, stopping the rush of words that burst forth. "To begin with, it was all my fault. If I'd been dancing with my own wife in the first place, none of it would have happened. And I won't have you thinking that we were laughing at you. It was just the situation ... all that alcohol and then Irene's halter snapping the way it did ..." He shrugged. "It was my fault, baby, not yours. I wouldn't blame you if you slapped me for the way I acted."
To prove his point, he pressed the palm of her hand to his cheek. Connie felt tears suddenly leap to her eyes. "Oh, Paul," she whispered in a choked voice, "I don't deserve it! I made such a complete fool of myself!" She couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth-the way she had openly displayed her gaping cunt to Harvey's feasting eyes, the way she had delighted in watching his shorts bulge ominously, the way the sight of that bulge made her cunt itch and burn. "I looked so ridiculous! How could you have helped laughing? Her boobs are so much bigger and better than ..."
"That'll be enough of that!" Paul answered sternly. "I have to admit that Irene's a damned good-looking woman, and it's not every day that I find myself staring at my next-door neighbor's bare tits, but I won't have you putting yourself down. I got more than enough of that while we were dating. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," she answered in a small voice, pleased at his commanding tone despite the fact that he didn't know the awful details.
"Besides," Paul said as he grinned suddenly, and his hands moved up from her waist to cup her boobs and knead her taut nipples, "Irene's tits might have been an entertaining sight, but I don't love them. I prefer quality, not quantity."
Connie shuddered under his touch, all humiliation suddenly forgotten. He thumbed her nipples knowingly, and she sucked in her breath at the delicious tickle of silk fabric against the hard pebbly nubs.
"Oh, Paul . . . Paul, I love you." Sudden overwhelming need erupted in her, and cunt juice surged from her itching pussy. "Paul, I want you . . . I want all of you right now! Oh, Paul, I want to feel you in my mouth, let me taste you, please."
Without hesitation-without pausing long enough to let her own inexperience make her afraid -Connie pushed him back onto the king-size bed. Taken totally by surprise, Paul let her hands force him back while Connie's small mouth trailed kisses along his matted chest. She licked and sucked at each hairy nipple just the way Paul always did hers, then slowly worked her way down his belly, while Paul's firm hands entangled in her hair and his hard muscles twitched as she ran her tongue lovingly down to dip into his navel. While her kisses worked downward, Connie's fingers nimbly unclasped his jeans and tugged them down until they were off.
By now, Paul's cock was hard and rigid, throbbing against the tender hollow of her throat. Connie caressed it and licked her way to its very base, burying her mouth in his black curls.
"Yeah," Paul whispered softly as Connie's lips first touched the root of his hard cock. "Yeah, baby, that's it . . . keep going, keep going ..."
Urged on by his hands as well as by her own devouring lust, Connie kissed and ran her tongue around his cock, then turned her attention to his balls. She cupped them in one hand, looking down at their size-they were so big! Gently, tenderly, she bent down and kissed the wrinkled sac that held them, then encircled one with her mouth and engulfed it. Paul groaned, and Connie licked and sucked each of his hairy sweating balls, until they were red and aching.
Paul writhed beneath her hungry mouth, and before she knew it, Connie found her lips working even farther down, until she realized that she was kissing the outer entrance to his puckered asshole.
"Oh, yeah, baby," he was murmuring, "do it all . . . "
Hesitantly, Connie's fingers parted the cheeks of his ass, and she could see the brownish-pink ring covered sparsely by short, tightly curled hairs. She remembered how it had felt when Paul had darted his tongue up her own ass-chute, and right now Connie wanted more than anything to give him pleasure. She leaned forward, and her little wet tongue flicked over his gaping asshole, then squirmed its way deep inside, tasting Paul's ass with a probing kiss.
He writhed delightedly, and his breath came in sharp gasps. "Yeah, baby . . . more . . . more ..."
Connie's tongue jabbed in hungrily as her juices gushed from her cunt at the image of herself- frightened, self-conscious, innocent Connie- kneeling on the floor and jamming her hot slick tongue up a man's asshole. And she liked it! The knowledge that she could give any man at all pleasure was still a fresh, wonderful feeling, and that made her cunt drool honey down her aching thighs.
And the fact that the man was Paul made it even better.
She sucked and probed until Paul could stand it no longer. Then his hands caught in her hair, and he pulled her head up to his painfully throbbing cock. "Now suck it, baby, take it all ... all . . . oh, yeah, yeah . . . oh, shit, that feels good!"
Connie's tender lips stretched to receive his big reddened prick completely. At first she was afraid to take in the full length of it, it was so huge. But slowly, pushed forward by Paul's strong but gentle hands, she relaxed and let his cock slide to the hilt down her throat. She rested like that an instant, feeling the fullness of his cock all the way inside her, then began to move her head up and down its length, sucking for the sweet white nectar within it.
Paul groaned, and his hips jerked in rhythm to her moist sucking mouth. Her head swam at the sweet, acrid taste of it, and Paul's groans heightened with the growing urgency of her pace. She wanted his cock, the cock that had been sunk deep into her cunt so many times in the past five days, the cock that had rammed through the tight walls of her virginal cunt and jolted her body into wild tearful oblivion. She wanted to taste his cum in her mouth, to taste and swallow and feel it burning down her stomach.
"Oh, Christ, I'm coming!" Paul suddenly blurted past gritted teeth, and Connie felt his hot jism shoot past her lips-load after load of it- pumping out as she drank greedily.
His ass jerked from the bed, twisting wildly, then collapsed as his cock emptied itself totally into her mouth. He lay gasping while she feverishly pumped out the last of his cum and licked it up, then kissed the sensitive reddened head of his prick and nestled her cheek against it with a sigh.
"God, Connie, you are the best," he whispered, stroking her hair.
Her hand caressed his limp cock lightly. She kissed it again and looked up at him. "Was . . . was I all right? I mean, you know I never did anything like that before."
Paul laughed at her innocent expression. "Oh, Lord, girl, if you only knew!"
She shivered with joy. Paul was pleased, and that made her glad. In a way, it paid for her awful drunken behavior earlier-which worked out quite nicely, since she had enjoyed it so much, herself.
"Come to bed, honey," Paul said. "You've had one hell of a day, and any girl of mine had better get her rest while she can."
After giving his wet slumping pecker one final brush of her lips, Connie turned out the bedroom light and quickly dove between the sheets with her husband.
Paul kissed her tenderly, and his warm body pressed against hers. Connie felt comfortable and happy at his nearness. Her cunt tingled as his limp cock pushed against her. She rubbed her hips, feeling his prickhead roll and press on her sheer nightgown, stirring the cream-tinged fur of her cunt.
"Paul," she breathed hesitantly, "I'm not really all that sleepy after all. I ... "
At that moment, he happened to turn away, yawning, then stopped abruptly. "Hey, look at that. A light just came on over at Irene's house. You can see right in her window from here."
Sadly quelling her renewed horniness, Connie followed his gaze past their bedroom window to the room directly opposite them, and a sudden thought occurred to her: "Oh, and our lights were on! Do you think she was watching us?"
Paul chuckled. "You weren't so self-conscious earlier this evening!" At her hurt silence, he hurried on: "What difference does it make if she was? She might as well get used to it, because we're going to provide some entertainment in years to come."
"I wonder why she bothers with Harvey?" Connie said speculatively. "I mean, he seems like a nice enough guy and all, but . . . "
"I know," Paul agreed. "They're about as mismatched a pair as I can imagine. But you never know. Maybe people say that about us."
"Oh, they do not!"
He laughed and turned lazily to look at the lighted window. "You know, I think that's her bedroom, right across from us. If you look just right, you can see the top of her bed . . . Jesus!"
He stopped suddenly, his breath rattling in his throat, and Connie looked out.
Standing in the window, with the light full on her, was Irene. She was completely nude, facing them with her arms spread out to feel the warm night breeze. Without her clothes for encumbrance, Irene's body was every bit as beautiful as Connie would have expected. Her tits thrust straight out, and she ran her hands over them to brush her mouth-sized nipples into erection. Connie and Paul stared, unable to tear their gaze away, as her hands continued their movement down her slim tanned belly to the fringes of black, glossy fur covering her cunt-mound. Connie had never seen so much hair on a woman's cunt before. It extended almost to her belly button in a thick luxurious triangle. That deep, lustrous fur rippled as Irene's hand drifted over it, and Connie heard Paul's breath catch.
She could see his face dimly in the darkness, and the contorted lust she saw brought all her jealousy back. But she couldn't honestly blame him. Irene was so ... so perfect, with the kind of bountiful untamed body that had probably taken many a man's breath away.
And that thick patch of cunthair only made Irene more appealing as she stretched, lifting her arms high in the air to catch the full summer-night's breeze. Her enormous jugs rose in response-and a hairy hand reached out and caught one of them.
This time it was Connie's turn to gasp as Harvey stepped before the window, also nude. Now she saw his appeal, the reason Irene bothered with him. Connie couldn't believe she was looking at such a huge cock. She'd never seen anything like it before in her life. True, she hadn't seen many-just the ones in pictures, and then Paul's, which had made the pictured ones look tiny in comparison.
But Harve's cock was something altogether different. It dangled limply below his fat hairy paunch almost halfway to his knees, a monstrous fat thing that should have belonged to a stallion. An equally huge sac containing his balls hung behind it, quivering obscenely. Irene turned to face her lover, and Harvey clutched both her jutting boobs in his big hands, grinning to show his yellowed teeth.
Balding, fat, ugly, with a cock that hung grotesquely between his legs, Harvey should have been a shocking, horrible sight. But suddenly Connie couldn't take her eyes away. She had already been turned on, and now the sight of that awful, horrendous prick swaying in the breeze held her hypnotized, while cream gushed from a pussy that grew hotter and hotter.
"Holy shit!" Paul muttered, almost to himself. "Do you see that? Now we've solved the mystery of what Irene sees in him. Damn, together they look like a couple of gland cases!"
Connie nodded, hardly hearing him. In utter fascination, she watched as Harve tweaked the nipples of Irene's magnificent tits, played and rolled them until they had to be straining out at least an inch. He said something, and Irene laughed. Then Harve smacked his lips and tilted up one of her gigantic boobs. Irene was as tall as he was, and he hardly had to lower his head as the dusky nipple popped inside his mouth and rolled around over his tongue. Connie was totally drawn in now, and she could almost feel Harvey's sucking slobbering mouth as if it clung to one of her own little tits. Irene closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying the attentions of Harve's eager mouth as he grasped both her tits, sucking first one, then the other.
Paul made a sound in his throat, and Connie glanced down to see his sheet propped by his stiff cock. A tiny part of her wanted to cry out angrily at his reaction to Irene, but that part of her was stifled as she stared out the window once again.
Now Harve was rolling his face between Irene's tits, licking and kissing them while she stroked his thinly covered head. A movement caught Connie's eye, and she looked down to see Harve's cock stirring to life. She stared helplessly as the thing awoke, like a woman caught up in an insane sexual fantasy suddenly come true.
Harve's cock began to grow, to stiffen like a huge snake lazily rousing itself. Longer and longer it grew, and as it grew it raised its fat head. His prick was a live thing, a fat, disgusting thing awakened to seek its prey in the dank, yielding cavern of Irene's pussy. How could any woman fuck a thing that big? Connie wondered, and even as she wondered, her own cunt gushed afresh with precious juice that ran between her legs and onto the new sheets.
"Look at that fucker," said Paul, aghast. "Just look at that fucker!" His hand drifted under the sheet to touch Connie, and met the wet resistance of her nightgown. Without turning his eyes away, Paul pulled the nightgown up over her hips and plunged his hand into her curls to the churning hot pit he found waiting. She gasped as his fingers brushed her clit, but like Paul, she was unable to withdraw from the scene before them.
Harve nuzzled Irene's tits until they were covered with his saliva and had become two shining orbs in the light of her bedroom.
His monstrous cock pressed its head into her abdomen, and Irene's hand rubbed up and down its length like a child's hand on a staircase banister. Without turning away, without even blinking, Connie dipped her own hand beneath the sheets and clasped Paul's rigid prick. How tiny it seemed now-compared to Harve's.
Harvey's hand suddenly dived into the thick black muff of Irene's pussy, and the newlyweds watched, enthralled, as his fingers dug into that layer of cunthair and parted it, giving them a flash of pink cuntlips before one of his big chubby fingers probed between them and writhed its way into her pussy and began to plunge in and out. Paul's own fingers followed suit, so completely was he caught up in the exhibition, and soon both Connie and Irene were churning and humping their hips to grind their clits on eager hands.
Irene bounced her quivering full ass up and down on Harve's middle finger, and he forced his way upward with a second, then a third.
Connie gasped, her own sopping cunt stretched to its limits as Paul copied his neighbors' actions, driving three fingers into her. She wriggled in mixed pain and ecstasy as his fingers and ecstasy as his fingers brought her to climax in a torrent of cream that poured onto his hand, while her own hand jerked spasmodically at Paul's prick.
Now Harve had four fingers up Irene's cunt, and she jiggled as though in some obscene ritual dance -tits jouncing wildly while her two hands encircled the monster that was Harve's cock-and he pressed his thick slobbery lips once more to her boobs.
Suddenly Irene stiffened and cried out, staring with a kind of glazed look as Harve laughed and pumped out the surge of juice that literally covered his hand. At the same moment, Connie felt herself coming again, and she bit her lip violently to avert a similar cry.
Irene twisted wildly on Harve's hand, then slumped against his cock, her unnaturally perfect tits heaving. Harve said something else with a big grin, then withdrew his fingers, grabbed Irene roughly by the hair with his free hand, and plunged his wet sticky fingers straight into her mouth!
Connie gasped as she clutched Paul's own probing fingers and suddenly withdrew them. Only vaguely aware of what she was doing, Connie pulled at Paul's soaked hand, and he was too surprised to resist. Somehow, Connie knew, the two of them had become totally caught up in the lewd current of their neighbors' lovemaking, and the sheer fantastic abandon of it held them inexorably. Connie couldn't help herself as she raised Paul's wet fingers to her mouth and, unable to break the spell, found herself lapping at her own hot pussy-juice.
Yet even as she did, she was watching her neighbors. Harve still held a handful of Irene's hair, and now he pulled her down to her knees before him, and only the upper half of her boobs showed. Harve released her hair then, took the full unbelievable length of his gigantic cock in his fists and pushed it between her tits. Gasping, Irene pressed her big jugs together. Harve moved in the tight cleavage. The huge head of his prick pointed up at Irene's face, and as he shifted forward, it slid up practically to touch her lips. Harve began to rock back and forth, and his monster cock surged up and down in the crevice of her slick heaving boobs.
"Goddamn!" Paul whispered.
And Connie heard herself speak, as though in a trance: "Anything they can do . . . can't we do just as well, darling?"
Paul was breathing heavily as he answered. "Yeah. Yeah, babe, we sure as hell can." And with that he leaned down, licked the space between Connie's small tits and crouched over her in the dark.
Eagerly, knowing the crazy situation they were caught in but unable-and unwilling-to stop it, Connie shoved her little tits together to encompass Paul's cock. He bent over her, moving in and out between them just as Harvey was, and Connie moaned in a new rush of excitement. Here, in the dark and with her eyes fastened on Irene's bedroom window, she could almost imagine that she was Irene, with titties that ballooned out aching, yearning, needing.
And Paul, Paul ... oh, that thing, that huge, ugly thing! His cock . . . Paul's . .. Harve's . . . his cock, monstrous and ugly and hot and throbbing, slid between her boobs, expanded them, forced them apart with the way it would her tight little cunt, spread them with its hugeness, overwhelming, in and out and in and out . . .
Harve came suddenly, and he stabbed the head of his big prick into Irene's mouth with utter glee as her jaws were forced apart to receive his hot explosions of jism.
Instantly Paul came as well, and for the second time that night, the second time in her life, Connie tasted his cum while her hand pumped its spurting load into her throat. He collapsed then, drained, as they watched Harve use his hand to squeeze out the last vestige of his thick white load. Then, laughing, he pulled Irene up and kissed her. And all at once Irene was writhing all over him uncontrollably, pushing her thick-furred cunt against his super-cock, rubbing it between her legs and bringing it slowly back to life.
"Oh, shit!" Paul said, astounded. "I can't believe this."
Harve's prick lifted its majestic head once more, and Irene bent down to kiss and lick it dry. Then she guided Harve-by his big cock-over to the bed. Harve just stood there, grinning, as she pushed its sensitive head into her scratchy mat of fur, bringing it to full rigidity.
Connie couldn't stop herself; the magic still held her spellbound, and her cunt was gushing at the magnificent ugliness of that thick long cock. She touched Paul's smaller version, felt it give a slight weak stir, and knew that he was still captive, as well. It was as if they no longer controlled their own bodies. Paul could see Irene's hands guiding that cock toward her hungry cunt, and Connie knew dimly that he saw himself standing there, letting himself be teased and taunted by that beautiful cunt.
Connie couldn't take her eyes from Harve's cock as it leaped between Irene's legs, blindly seeking the moist shelter she offered. Paul's prick hardened at the sight, and his body twitched toward Connie.
That was when Irene said something to Harve that made him laugh, then she turned her back to him and placed her knees on the edge of the bed, bending forward. Still laughing, Harve reached down and slid his fingers up her sopping pink slit, then rubbed them to the pink, winking hole of her shitter.
At first, Connie didn't understand. She watched as Harve placed his grotesque cockhead to Irene's ass, saw him push, saw it sink slowly into her, saw Irene shudder and heard her cry out.
Then Connie knew. "Oh, no," she pleaded, more to herself than to Paul. "Oh, please, God, no!"
Unconsciously, her hand pumped furiously at Paul's prick, making him groan: "Baby ..."
It was all too much for Connie. She stared at that giant cock penetrating poor Irene's tight asshole, heard her gasping sobs, felt her own unstoppable creaming at the sight, and rolled away, still clutching Paul's cock.
Paul released a long breath, his hips still jerking in rhythm to her hand. "It's all right, honey. I understand ..."
With one motion, Connie swept back the covers and lifted herself onto her knees, raising her taut ass into the air and pulling Paul to her by the grip she had on his cock.
"Oh, please!" she cried out. "Please, oh, God, hurry!"
Paul didn't pause to question her. Instantly he was on his knees behind her, and his hand felt her sweet cunt to find it gaping and its juices flowing more thickly than ever. Following Harve's lead, he ran his fingers over the open slit of her cunt and moistened the pink hollow of Connie's ass. Then, gripping her hips tightly, he pushed forward.
Connie felt her asshole give slowly, and she buried her face in her pillow to keep from crying out. But even so, she forced her eyes around to watch Harvey and Irene. Harve rammed his cock into Irene, almost halfway into her ass by now, and Irene's face shone with tears. Connie felt the tearing inside her-the terrible pain of Paul's cock-and heard her own unexpected cry. He withdrew a bit, then heaved forward again, and again Connie cried out. But this time her muscles loosened, the tension eased, and Paul slid completely into her.
Slowly he jammed his cock in to the hilt and began to rock back and forth. Tears leaped to Connie's eyes, but she found that she could stand the pain. She even began to feel the mashing of Paul's balls against her clit with each forward motion, and a totally new feeling began to penetrate. She was being fucked in the ass and was beginning to like it! Her hips were starting to respond to his pounding movements.
She was enjoying it!
Irene screamed then, and the two newlyweds, without pausing in their own screwing, saw Harvey cram his huge prick almost completely into her ass as he jerked forward. They saw his white sticky cum leak from Irene's asshole and dribble down her thighs. They watched as she turned tearfully to him and licked his cock and balls clean with sobbing gratitude.
Then Paul was really slamming it to her. Connie's hands dug into the sheets, tore at them wildly, and in sudden spasms she felt herself coming again and again, heard Paul grunt and clutch her, felt his steamy jism shoot up into her ass like burning acid.
And this time when she cried out, she knew Irene's joy in a series of explosive climaxes that made her weep and sob until she and Paul collapsed together, totally drained.
Then, after she had dutifully licked his shrunken cock and withered balls clean of white cum, they fell asleep entwined in each other's arms, exhausted.
Chapter Four
Connie was having a wonderful dream.
In her dream, Paul suddenly tore the sheets from the bed, ripped the nightgown from her frightened quivering body and stood staring down at her, his eyes lit with a crazy blaze of lust and his slim muscular body slick and oily with the sweat of his urgency.
"I'm going to fuck you, Baby," he said in an eager, husky voice. "You like that, don't you? After all these years you wasted running away and hiding from people, making yourself believe no one could love you. But it's different now, isn't it? Now you've got a husband, somebody who does love you. Now you know how good it feels to fuck, and I'm not going to let you forget it. Last night was just the beginning, Missy, because I'm going to fuck you till you can't stand it any more. With this!"
And roughly he grabbed her long blonde hair and jerked her head forward, forcing her to look at his stiff cock. Connie gasped at the sight of it, but her fear erupted with a sensual wave of arousal. Because it was Harvey's oversized cock looming huge and fat out of Paul's groin. He rubbed her face against it, laughing as its reddened, throbbing tip jarred and probed at her tightly shut mouth.
"Connie loves it, doesn't she?" Paul grinned cruelly, knowingly. "But this time you're going to have to ask for it, baby. Go ahead. Ask!" He twisted her hair violently, and Connie screamed.
"Yes!" she sobbed, unable to subdue the aching itch in her cunt for that ugly, filthy cock. "Yes, oh, God, yes, fuck me with it! Stick it inside me . . . yes, please . . . oh, oh, God ..."
Paul shoved her back on the bed and pulled her legs apart until her hip joints popped, entirely exposing her delicate, sweetly dripping hole in all its pink splendor. Then he guided his supercock into her, slowly at first, then harshly, until it was all the way into her. But oddly, there was no pain. Her little cunt stretched wider and wider to receive every monstrous inch, and it didn't hurt at all. It felt wonderful!
Paul jerked in and out of her, and he laughed at the glazing of passion of her face. "You like it, don't you? Tell me!"
"I like it!" she sobbed, closing her eyes to concentrate completely on the gigantic thing writhing inside her cunt.
"After this, you'll want it all the time, won't you?"
"Y-yes," she moaned, her body twisting in rhythm to his.
"You'll want it to fuck you like this forever, won't you?"
"Oh!" She felt herself coming, and clasped him even tighter between her thighs. "Oh, yes! Yes!"
"Then tell me, Missy. Tell me what you want."
"Fuck . . . aaahhh, fuck me!" she heaved, and she felt the rushing surge of a second climax. "Fuck me, fuck me . . . oh, Paul, fuck me!"
She opened her eyes-and saw Harvey's face grinning down on her!
Connie wanted to scream. She wanted to stop. But she could do neither, because that big fat gorgeous thing was inside her, and she kept repeating, louder and louder: "Fuck me, fuck me . . .
And with those words on her lips, she stirred sleepily. The morning sun shone into the bedroom, and her body was twitching in dreamy hunger. She reached down to her parted thighs-and her fingers entangled in Paul's hair! His tongue darted onto her clit, and Connie groaned, still caught in the haze between waking and sleep. He flicked and sucked her clit, then jabbed his greedy tongue all the way inside her hot cunt, and Connie's hips jerked up, her hands clutched his head as release overwhelmed her, and gushing cream filled Paul's mouth and trickled down his chin. Spasm after spasm coursed through Connie, until at last he gave her soaked pussy one last deep kiss and lifted his head.
Paul grinned-and this time it was Paul's grin, not Harvey's. "Good morning. Sleep well?"
Connie gasped, luxuriating in the oozing wetness of saliva and pussyjuice flowing down her thighs. "Mmm . . . you . . . bastard!"
Paul laughed and stood up, buttoning his cut-off jeans. "I always wanted to wake a woman up like that, and now I can. And you should have heard the things you said! I didn't know you had it in you, babe."
Connie blushed at the memory of her dream, and covered up quickly. "Well, whose fault was that? I didn't know I had it in me, either!"
They both laughed then, and Paul bent to kiss her. Connie could taste the pungent flavor of her own juice on his lips, but she didn't mind. She'd learned a lot in one night.
Paul pushed himself away, first wiping the wetness from Connie's chin, then his own. "You were beautiful last night, babe. And come to think of it, you're even more beautiful this morning. Love you."
Reluctantly but forcefully, he pulled away from Connie's arms, and she pouted. "Where are you going so early on our honeymoon? Is this what I've got to expect from now on?"
"I have other husbandly duties to attend to now," Paul smiled as he pulled his shirt on. "Right now, I'm going to mow our lawn. Which might sound crazy to you, but I've been looking forward to it. And Harvey loaned me his mower for just that purpose. Maybe then I'll see about planting us a garden, with a couple of good summer months left." He stopped at the door and turned back with a leer. "Or maybe I'll drop in to finish what I started. Just hold that pose, honey."
Instantly Connie snapped her legs shut and pulled her nightgown down, making Paul burst out laughing once more at her embarrassment.
"That's one thing you'll never be able to finish!" she taunted at his retreating figure.
She listened as he clomped down the stairs and out the back door, and a few moments later she heard the abrupt buzz of a lawn mower. Connie stretched languorously, still warm and tingling and wet from Paul's tonguing. A warm morning breeze fanned her body, brushing the silky bodice of her nightgown over her nipples and making them pop up.
From where she lay, she could see Irene's bedroom window, and all last night's memories rushed back to increase her glow. She and Paul shouldn't have watched, she thought without really meaning it. Irene and Harvey probably wouldn't have minded-that part, at least, was true-but it was such a naughty thing for her to do. On the other hand, if they had wanted privacy, they should have closed their curtains. It wasn't her fault she'd watched! They had practically forced her to!
As though having settled an argument, Connie stood up and slid the nightgown up over her body, letting it drift to the bed. She stretched before the bedroom window just the way Irene had done last night, letting the breeze tickle her firm apple-sized tits and the damp mound of her young horny cunt. Vaguely she heard the lawn mower approaching around the corner of the house, and she smiled to herself. How would Paul react if he saw her standing here like this, nude and aroused and hungry for the food only he could provide. Wouldn't that just make him forget his other husbandly duties in a hurry!
As this thought made her smile in anticipation, abruptly the lawn mower stopped dead, practically beneath her window, and Connie could hear the sound of voices. She stepped nearer the window and peeked out.
"... didn't know you were here," Paul was saying. He stood almost directly below Connie, and when she saw who he was talking to, a tremor of jealousy shot through her.
Irene lay just a few feet in front of him, sunning herself in the morning sunlight that squeezed between the two houses. As Connie watched, she lazily rolled to her side on the bright yellow beach blanket, to examine Paul. She was wearing a skimpy green and white polka-dotted bikini, and when she rolled onto her side, her mammoth jugs bulged under the confinement of the small top, and her hip jutted out, tan and naked, against the string tie of the bottom.
"That's all right," she answered, lifting a pair of dark sunglasses to measure him with her sharp blue eyes. "I'm afraid I'm the one who's in the way. I catch the sun here every morning while it's cool. Your house has been empty so long, I couldn't break the routine. I'll move."
"Don't bother," Paul burst out hastily, although Connie noticed with pursed lips that Irene had made no move to follow through with her suggestion. "It gives me a chance to take a breather. I'm a struggling young lawyer, you know, and we aren't used to this kind of work." To prove his point, he nervously wiped the trickle of sweat from his forehead.
Connie opened her mouth to call out to him, then unexpectedly closed it again, not certain why she kept silent. She didn't have time to wonder what kept her from interrupting the scene, as Paul spoke again.
"If you don't mind an attorney's professional opinion," he said, then cleared his throat, "from where I'm standing, I can't see that you need it."
Irene smiled and looked down at her own glistening brown body. "Then you aren't looking in the right places. And now that you've called it to my attention, I could use some more oil. Do me?" She reached down and picked up a bottle of clear liquid, then held it as if making an offering, her blue eyes glinting with an impish, daring look.
"Well ..." Paul glanced up in the direction of the bedroom window, and Connie instinctively pulled back without knowing why she did. The thought of her husband touching Irene's too-perfect body made her stomach churn, but some cruel curiosity kept her from making her presence known, kept her from calling Paul the hell away from that woman.
"I really should finish the lawn," Paul said lamely, obviously struggling with a wisp of guilt.
"And let my back burn?" Irene pursed her lips in a teaching pout, running a hand across her thigh. "Is that a neighborly act?"
Paul shrugged off his guilt and grinned widely.
"In that case, how can I refuse?"
Connie watched with a sickening ache as he walked over and took the lotion from Irene. She rolled back onto her belly, then reached around to unclasp her top and pull her long black hair over her shoulders. As he stood over her with the bottle in his hand, looking down at that gorgeous woman with her slender legs, swelling ass, and huge tits that mashed naked against the blanket, Connie could sense the thoughts running through his mind, the vision of Irene as she had been the night before-all horny and voluptuous with Harvey's cock deep inside her and cum spurting down her legs.
Connie knew what he saw, and she wanted to cry out as Paul slowly knelt and began to apply the lotion on Irene's back.
"Mmm, that feels nice," Irene murmured as Paul's hand ran over her smooth skin. "So cool . . . delicious. You ought to let me rub you down sometime, Paul. Word has it that I'm pretty good."
Paul laughed nervously as he spread the lotion on. "I suspect you're good at everything. In my professional opinion, of course."
Irene turned her head to look up at him. "Why, that was an honest-to-gosh compliment! And from a lawyer, yet! How much will the bill be for that?"
Grinning, Paul ran his fingers up her spine, making her squirm. "Compliments I give free. The rubdown . . . well, we'll work something out."
"An interesting notion," Irene said demurely, and Paul's eyebrows went up as he realized the implication behind his light statement. She continued, "But of course, if I have to pay, I expect a first-class job. The legs, please."
Connie watched in sick fascination as he bent to caress Irene's legs-first one, then the other-his sticky hands running up from her ankles, over calves and thighs, smoothing the wet lotion on her trim strong legs and each time reaching higher and higher until his fingers brushed the fabric of her bikini bottom, slowly caressing the insides of her thighs and her plump jutting asscheeks. Irene spread her legs apart, moaning at the soothing touch of his hands.
"That's right," she urged, wriggling a bit as he lingered at the juncture of her thighs. "It feels so nice . . . now finish my back like a good boy. I think you're really getting the hang of this."
Paul returned to her back, kneading her bare sides. His palms worked up and down from the center of her spine all the way around to her ribs and underarms, until his fingertips ran over the bare bulges of her rounded quivering tits.
"That's right," Irene prodded him on. "Now lower. Lower . . . yes, that's it. Here." She reached to her sides and untied the strings of her bikini bottom, pushing it down until the top of the crack of her ass rippled beneath his gaze. "You don't mind, do you? Usually I sunbathe without anything at all on, not even this little thing, since we're so far from the main part of town that cars hardly ever go by. I hope I'm not embarrassing you."
"No," Paul answered in a rough, cracked voice. "Not at all." His hands worked with growing fervor up and down her back, with each motion sweeping from the swelling sides of her tits across and down to her ass, and each time pressing his fingertips a little farther beneath the rear flap of her bikini bottom, forcing it down a bit and inserting one finger in the hint of cleavage that widened there.
"You're getting better," Irene moaned. "Ahh, yes, that's so good."
Paul worked the polka-dot bottom down until the taut, tanned cheeks of her ass were almost totally exposed. "You're tense," he said in a choked, horny voice, his eyes never leaving her nearly bare ass. "You've got to loosen up . . . relax. Just let these magic fingers take care of you."
Irene gave a small laugh. "They really are magic! I feel all tingly and nice. Keep this up, my friend, and you may even get a bonus."
Paul's lips twitched in a smile as he kneaded, massaged, worked his way farther and farther down to cup her raised asscheeks in his palms, until the bottom flap fell between her legs. With a hissing breath he stared down at her full, perfect ass.
And Irene didn't mind at all. In fact, she was writhing and moaning happily as he worked her asscheeks over, squeezing and patting and running his hands across them to open the tiny pink ring of her asshole. "Mmm, so good . . . good, baby," she gasped.
Still massaging her ass, Paul eased his hands down her crack until he could feel the first black pussy hairs brush his fingertips. He stroked and caressed, feeling the fringes of her fur begin to moisten. Then, suddenly afraid, he pulled away and glanced once more at his bedroom window.
And again Connie drew back. She had been watching it all with a kind of numbness. There was not even anger, her utter surprise was so complete. Her husband-touching and fondling another woman's ass!
Irene groaned in disappointment and looked up. "Why'd you stop, Paul? You were doing so well!"
Paul winced, not wanting to admit his fear of being caught by his wife. "I . . . I'm no expert on giving rubdowns, Irene. Maybe a professional masseur ..."
"Oh, don't be such a big idiot!" she blurted, making him blush at the lameness of his own words. "Professional masseur! You were doing just fine. I mean, it's not as if we were doing something bad, is it? Is that what's bothering you, that Connie might look out and see us? Surely you can't think she'd be upset, when all you're doing is giving a friend a helping hand?"
Paul shrugged uncomfortably, irked by the laughter in Irene's eyes. "No . . . no, of course not. She wouldn't mind, even if she were standing here this minute. Connie isn't the jealous type."
Irene pouted, still teasing him. "Then it must be me."
"No," Paul hurried, "it's just ... oh, hell. It's nothing. Nothing at all."
"Good." Irene smiled at her victory. "Besides, I'm done on this side anyway. Here." And, clasping her undone bikini to her, she rolled over onto her back. "Now finish me like a good boy, and then you can mow your lawn."
"Irene ..." Paul's throat went dry. His wet sticky hands hovered over her nearly nude body, and the sweat trickled down his face. "I . . . "
"It's easy," Irene scoffed, and grabbed his hands. Before he could pull away, she ran his palms across her shoulders. "See how easy it is, you big dope? Do I need a professional masseur for this?" Her guiding hands pulled his down across her shoulders, over the loose cups of her top, and across her bare belly to the fringe of thick black hair that curled out from beneath the untied bottom. "See, Paul? See how easy it is, and how good it makes me feel?"
She pushed his hands up her belly, higher and higher, forcing her bikini top off, until Paul found his palms pressed against her hard pointing nipples.
"Oooh," Irene whispered, rubbing his hands to her tits and making her nipples stand up hard and long. "Oooh, yesss ..."
Paul didn't even notice when she released her grip and pulled the top completely away. He was engrossed in the feel of her huge tits, the pink firmness of them. He rubbed harder, and his fingers parted to tweak and pull them, making Irene gasp. He had never seen such long, hard nipples on any woman before. Last night, when her halter had torn loose before his eyes, he thought his jaw would drop at the spectacle. Such huge, perfect, tarnished-gold pieces, rough and bumpy to his touch, with twin jutting spires that poked up so hungrily, so yearningly, to be kissed and sucked.
Paul licked his dry, cracked lips as he played and plucked those magnificent tits to the sounds of Irene's delighted gasps and moans. He continued his massage with no concern for anything else now, not even Connie. His fingers worked greedily over Irene's belly and down to her fringe of black curls, using his palms to push the bikini bottoms away. Then her entire triangle of glossy wet fur lay before him, and he ran his fingers through that thick shining moss-the way he had dreamed of doing last night.
Irene writhed excitedly, but Paul took his time with loving care, touching her dense luscious patch, watching his fingers plunge through it. He moved on, gently tracing his hands down to the in-sides of her thighs and spreading them apart.
"Oh, yesss, ahhh ..." Irene whimpered, letting her legs be drawn out to open the puffed milky-wet mouth of her slit.
Paul's cock throbbed achingly in his cut-offs as his thumbs ran up and down her sweetly scented, wet cuntlips and then parted them to display the glistening pink of her cunt hole, which filled with drooling cream as he spread it open. Irene's hooded clit leaped at his touch, and he twiddled her love button as juice flowed down the crack of her ass.
"That's it!" Irene cried, bouncing up and down. "Aggghhh . . . nnn ..."
Paul couldn't stop himself now, even if he wanted to. He had to taste that cunt, just the way he had tasted Connie's. He bent down and licked the entire length of her slit, from puckered asshole to hard clit, drinking in her gushing cuntjuice. Then he jabbed his tongue straight into Irene's gaping twat.
She gave a small scream and her ass leaped up to meet his mouth. Paul worked feverishly, ramming his stiffened tongue in and out, sucking up the perfumed fountain of her cunt.
He flicked and sucked the hard nipple of her clit and dove his tongue deep into her beautiful pink asshole. He couldn't get enough; his hunger was too devouring now, too overwhelming to control. He wanted Irene's luscious body totally; he wanted to swallow and plunge even deeper for more of her dripping sweetness.
"Oh, God, you fucking sweet baby! Oh, shit, you're making me . . . oh, fucking shit, I'm coming!" Irene screamed. "I'm on fire! Fuck me, Paul, fuck me ... do anything, you sweet bastard . . . ohhh!"
She wrapped her strong legs around his head, but Paul twisted away and pulled at his cut-offs.
"Now," he grunted, "now you can pay for that massage!" He bared his aching cock and dove straight into Irene's big wet cunt.
She gave a wild, wordless cry that the whole neighborhood must have heard, but neither of them cared. Paul heaved, raising himself up on his hands and twisting unmercifully into Irene's pussy, making her cry out afresh with each cruel, twat-ripping jolt of his body.
Paul smiled cruelly, enjoying the mixture of pain and fulfillment he dealt out. For some reason-probably an inner twinge of guilt, he realized; that, or hidden jealousy of Harve's huge cock-he found himself wanting to hurt her, wanting to abuse Irene's beautiful, perfect body the way Harve had last night. He wanted this bitch to know she'd been fucked, and to remember who'd done the fucking. He wanted to make her hurt-and make her love it. His pumping grew wilder, faster, and Irene's fingernails raked his chest and dug painfully into his shoulders. In response, Paul leaned down and bit her nipples-the nipples he had been admiring only minutes before.
Irene's cries rose, louder and louder.
And Connie stared, wanting to shut those cries out, as she watched Paul's transformation from a gentle, loving husband to a sadistic, cruel lover. This wasn't Paul, but a stranger. And her honeymoon, her dream come true, had suddenly twisted itself into a nightmare. She stood in the window, staring in horror at the two rutting, sobbing people on the yellow blanket.
She saw Paul's lips-her husband's lips!-cover one of Irene's beautiful tits and nip brutally at it. She saw Paul's hips surge and plunge, sinking his cock-the cock that should have belonged to her!-sink deeper and deeper into Irene's cunt. She watched in complete, numb shock as he fucked another woman, fucked her harder and harder and . . .
Connie was panting, and hot liquid raced down her thigh. She gasped as their hips wrenched in agonizing, luxurious ecstasy-pain, and her hands moved as though of their own accord to knead her bare, heaving little tits. It was a reaction of shock, but her nipples hardened under her palms, and Connie began to rub at the hardness of them as she watched her husband grind his swollen prick into Irene and watched Irene rake at his back while his mouth attacked her nipples.
Connie leaned against the open window sill, and the breeze ruffled her damp cunthairs, cooled the steaming juice between her legs and made her cunt tickle. Unconsciously, Connie ran one hand down to rub away the tickling sensation, and a fresh gush of cream ran from her itching cunt.
Paul reached down, pushed past the bouncing globes of Irene's ass and harshly jabbed a finger up her asshole.
Irene screamed and bucked, and in the same instant Connie pushed the heel of her soft hand against the mound of her pussy, rubbing the itch there while she watched her husband finger-fuck Irene's ass, while she heard her next-door neighbor's sobs. His finger and his cock sank in and pulled out with slurping noises, and his mouth sucked and bit, making Irene's beautiful face contort and stream with tears.
Connie rubbed faster and faster as Paul's pumping increased, and her small delicate fingers slipped between the lips of her little cunt and rubbed fiercely at the growing itch in her clit. Her gasps came faster and faster, no longer in shock or horror. She couldn't help herself. For the first time, she was seeing a side of Paul that she had never even imagined might exist.
And she had already been so, so horny . . .
Her eyes glazed, her gasps became eager pants as she watched the two people on the ground. Her fingers slipped up her tight little hole and began to slide in and out, scratching at the growing itch there, the itch that made her grind her hips onto her hand and bite her lip to keep from crying out as growing bursts of pleasure made her body wrench, made her fingers move faster and faster . . .
Then a real scream tore past Irene's gritted teeth. Paul drove into her cunt, ripping into her with all the strength he had, and they came together in a blinding, surging climax. His load shot deep into her cunt, and she pulled his body tight with her thighs as his hot jism pumped in spurting spasms to fill her bruised cunt.
Connie's pants became one long hiss, and her fingers dug in and out of her little twat, unmindful of the cream dripping down her white thighs. She came at once, stifling a cry of her own, as fire shot through her entire body-fire that coursed through her in wave after delicious wave.
Irene and Paul collapsed together on the blanket, their juices spilling out and soaking it. Gasping, slick with suntan oil and sweat and saliva and jism, they clung in the last heavy jolts of climax. Then Paul slid his finger from her ass, glanced down at her bruised tits and looked into Irene's face, suddenly realizing the terrible things he had done to her.
But Irene was smiling. She put her hands to his face, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Paul, Paul ... oh sweet, sweet baby, that was the best. It was . . . oh, fucking shit, I've never had it like that! I'm yours, baby, just for the asking, whenever and whatever you want. Remember that, Paul. Always. Oh, you sweet, beautiful ..." She hugged him, sobbing.
Stunned, completely taken by surprise at Irene's words and overwhelmed by all the conflicting emotions leaping within him, Paul found his own arms caressing her, heard his own voice whisper, "That's good, Irene, because I just may be taking you up on that right now."
Connie, totally caught up in the hot waves of her own hunger, jiggled her cunt wildly on her probing fingers, coming again and again. Her blurred gaze left the two drained figures on the ground and drifted upward in ecstasy . . . ... to see Harve grinning at her from Irene's bedroom window.
And she couldn't stop!
Chapter Five
Connie's eyes fastened on Harvey's face, and his grin widened to show his yellow teeth as he took in the sight of her nakedness and the fingers that were sunk obliviously into her cunt. In the overwhelming throes of her own horniness Connie bounced on her seeking hand, even as a part of her recoiled in startled shame. His gaze dropped to the point where her fingers disappeared inside her, and he licked his lips as Connie rolled her head and shuddered again and again, letting her fingers pump the last dregs of orgasm from her cunt.
Then she slumped, her quivering boobs heaving, and slowly returned to reality.
Harve waved, his beady eyes devouring her, and dropped his hand to pat his crotch.
Abruptly, comprehension burst through the haze her mind had become, and Connie gasped and fled the window in shock and utter mortification. He had seen! He had stood there and watched it all, feasting his eyes on the sight before him. He had watched Paul do those awful things to Irene, and-worst of all, at the moment-he had watched Connie.
She couldn't push back the humiliating realization that Harve had seen her fingering herself while Paul and Irene fucked on the ground between them. Connie grabbed up her nightgown and stumbled blindly from the bedroom and down the stairs, overcome by the sheer confusion of her own shock, lust, and degradation. She found herself standing in the living room, her mind a total blank, as though a fog of uncertainty had crept over her.
Paul-her Paul, her tender, loving husband--how could he be the hungry, cruel animal she had just seen? That person was a stranger, an evil, filthy stranger in Paul's body, a stranger who had done things that Paul would never even have considered!
Connie stared around the room, feeling her head spin and her eyes brim with tears, because it had been Paul. It had been her husband grinding his finger into Irene's ass and angrily biting her tits and shooting his loathsome cum inside her clutching cunt. It had been Paul doing all the things he would never have attempted with his own wife, doing all those disgusting, perverted things-all those filthy things that had excited Connie so much!
Suddenly, someone spoke behind her: "You all right, Missy?"
Connie spun around to see Harve standing in the front doorway, smiling at her. Still in the same T-shirt and Bermuda shorts he'd worn yesterday, he stared at her in a leering way that made her blush, and walked in without, being invited.
"Nice morning, isn't it? Just the kind of morning to get the juices flowing, eh? At least, that's the impression I've been getting around here."
Connie looked at him coldly, ignoring the taunt: in his voice. "What do you want, Harvey?"
Harve shrugged, absently scratching his paunchy belly, and his grin widened. "Well, Missy, for the moment, all I want is to stand here and look at you."
Connie's blush deepened as his eyes moved down to her revealing nightgown, but she made no move to cover herself. After all, he'd already seen her without any clothes at all; he'd even seen her-Connie pushed the thought aside.
"All right," she said. "Now that you've looked, would you please leave? Really, Harve, I don't feel very well right now."
Harve's grin faded a bit, and he took on that innocent teddy-bear look of concern. "Come off it, Missy. I know what you saw, and you damned well know what I saw, so let's cut right through this crap."
"You don't have any right to talk to me that way!" Connie flared. "If ... if you saw Paul and Irene, if you saw everything they did, how can you just stand there so calmly, as if nothing had happened?"
Harve shrugged. "What's to get upset about? I don't own her, and it sure doesn't look like you own Paul, so why should we get carried away? They both enjoyed it, and nobody's hurt . . . unless you want to hurt yourself, that is. And I'd rather not see that happen, so I thought I'd better drop in."
Now that it was in the open, Connie felt the return of bitter tears. "How can you just . . . just stand there so calmly? I thought you loved Irene! Didn't you see what they were doing? Rutting on the ground like a couple of animals!"
"Yes, I saw," Harvey replied with a trace of anger. "I also saw you, honey pie, and it didn't look like you were doing so bad, yourself. Right now, you're overreacting because you feel guilty, that's all. You got a thrill out of watching them, and now you're ashamed to admit it."
His words stung, largely because of the truth in them. Connie looked at him through blurred,-smarting eyes and spat, "That's a lie! A filthy, ugly lie!"
She started to run past him for her bedroom, but Harve caught her arms and pulled her to him. Connie wriggled**angrily in his grasp, and his hot breath fanned her face.
"A lie, eh? All right, if you want to play with lies, then prove it. Come here!"
He dragged Connie roughly to a window and shoved the curtains apart. And there before them, only feet away, lay Paul and Irene, still locked in each other's arms.
Connie stared, unable to resist, as Harve released one of her arms just long enough to silently raise the window. "Now tell me you didn't like it," he whispered in her ear. "Just tell me you didn't get a kick out of watching your husband fuck the piss out of another woman. Go on . . . tell me!"
Connie didn't answer. She couldn't because it was true, and Harvey knew it was true. He'd seen it with his own eyes. She stared in mixed horror and fascination as Irene sighed deeply, her hand caressing Paul's shriveled balls.
Slowly, he started to rise, and Irene clutched at him. "Oh, don't go yet! The party's just getting started."
Paul laughed. "I've got to, babe. Connie might wake up and look out here at any moment, and I don't think she'd be as understanding as you. Anyway, I'm dying to take a leak, and I don't believe this is exactly the right place."
But Irene wouldn't release him. Twisting his mouth in a hard little smile, Paul forced her arms away and pushed her back on the towel, then stood over her, his limp cock dangling over her widely spread legs.
"If I don't go in about ten seconds, things are going to get pretty wet around here. Or maybe you'd like that, huh?"
Irene gazed up at him, and a brief smile flickered across her lips. "What do you think, lover?"
Paul grinned. "What was it you said . . . 'I'm yours just for the asking, whenever and whatever'? Okay, then, let's find out. The whenever is now, and the whatever is this." His hand gripped his shriveled prick, and suddenly a few yellow droplets leaped from it to fall on Irene's flat belly.
But she didn't make a sound of surprise, didn't try to wipe them away. Instead, she gave him a taunting smile. "I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me how."
Her eyes dared him, and what had begun as a joke suddenly grew serious. "All right," he said softly, "if that's how you want it. Raise your legs."
Irene did as he said, exposing her cream-filled cunt as her legs rose in the air. Paul grabbed her ankles and suddenly pushed them back and wide apart, making her cry out in surprise as she suddenly found herself balanced on her shoulders, her gaping pink cunt and puckered sweet asshole aiming up at the cock that hung just inches away.
Paul laughed, and his face contorted in anticipation. "Now, baby, I'm going to piss right between your legs and you're going to love it, hear me? You're going to holler for more. Are you ready, honey? Because here it comes!" And suddenly his cock spurted, and a stream of yellow fluid shot forth, straight into Irene's open hole.
She gasped as the violent spray struck her clit and battered it with steamy wetness. Irene arched as Paul's piss surged back and forth over her clit, mingling with her own gushing juices and running in rivulets down her belly and back.
"Paul!" she cried. "I'm coming! Do . . . ohhh . . . don't let it stop . . . I'm coming!"
Paul just laughed, and his spray seemed to go on forever, until at last the final precious golden drops fell on her winking asshole.
"Oh, Paul . . . oh, my God," Irene whimpered as he released her legs, letting her fall in a heap. "It ... it was so good, I never came that quickly before."
Still grinning, enjoying his power over this beautiful woman, Paul knelt and pulled Irene's head up by her hair. "Look at that," he said, forcing her gaze to his cock. "There's still a drop or two in my prick, see? One's already forming right at the tip of my prickhead. Now lick it up like a nice girl."
Obeying him completely, Irene leaned forward and licked the half-formed droplet of piss that clung to the reddened tip of his cock. Her tongue darted around his inflamed cockhead, making it jerk erect, and Paul's hands eagerly entangled in her long black hair as she licked and sucked at his cock, taking the whole length into her mouth.
"You see?" Harve whispered, his big hands kneading Connie's arms as she stood helplessly, caught up in the unbelievable scene before her. "They're just having some harmless fun, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
Connie didn't answer, didn't even notice as Harve's eyes fastened on the hint of pale skin that barely showed beneath her blue nightgown. He could see the soft curves of her shoulders, the perky little buds of her sweet little tits poking out, the firmness of her belly and the flaring of her soft hips. She didn't notice as he licked his lips hungrily and moved one hand down to caress her waist while the other massaged her shoulder.
"It's not really so bad, is it?" he asked in a rough, cracked voice.
Dimly, Connie heard, and almost like another person, slowly shook her head. She couldn't tear her eyes from the sight of Paul's cock in Irene's hungry wet mouth, the way it slid back and forth between her full lips. Again Connie felt her own juices stir uncontrollably, as though it were she, and not Irene, with Paul's lovely fat cock jerking, hot and throbbing, in her mouth. It was she, not Irene, whose little cunt streamed with his piss and cum, gaping open and drooling onto the yellow blanket. She could feel Paul's beautiful prick oozing in and out of her mouth, could taste the bitter salty droplets of his piss on her tongue, could feel his cock-hairs bristle delightfully on her face.
Connie knew she was creaming once again, and she parted her lips in a small gasp as Paul's wonderful, hungry prick slid in and out, in and out . . .
"That's my girl," Harve whispered huskily as the hand around her waist, dropped lower until it gently cupped one swelling cheek of her pert little ass.
Connie didn't resist, didn't even seem to be aware of it. Her eyes glowed with lust as she watched the couple in the yard, and Harve's hand began to massage her juicy little ass through the nightgown.
"I knew you'd be all right, once you just relaxed and let it flow."
Now Paul's ass was twitching of its own accord. Irene's mouth sucked faster and faster for the nectar within his hard throbbing cock. She caressed his sweaty balls and reached past them to stroke the hairy ring of his shitter. Her head swayed back and forth greedily, seeking the hot load of his cum.
Connie panted. She could feel the stiffness of Paul's prick between her jaws as its luscious load gathered for a rushing burst of sticky, delicious cum. Her cunt itched and tingled, and a wave of heat spread through her, making her twat ache even more. She wanted to scream out her horny need, to leap on that lovely cock and jam it between her legs, feel it cream inside her and fill her completely.
As Harve continued to squeeze and knead her little ass, his other hand slid down her arm and gently placed her numb hand on the growing bulge in his Bermudas.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, grinning. "That's what you really want, isn't it? Feel how big it is, how hard? Just touch it . . . ahhh, that's right."
Caught in her daze, Connie felt the bulge of cock beneath her hand and automatically moved across it, caressed it as though it were Paul's. Harve groaned as her fingers rubbed his bulge.
"Yeah," he groaned. "Yeah, feel how nice and big it is, just right for a sweet little thing like you. Here, just let me take it out."
Quickly he unfastened his shorts and pulled them down, and Connie's fingers trailed through his thick fuzz to the root of his giant erect cock and slowly encircled it.
Dimly she felt the size of the thing in her hand and gasped with a fresh aching release of cuntjuice. This wasn't Paul's sweet cock, but a huge, monstrous prick she was holding. Vaguely she realized that it was Harvey's giant pecker in her hand, not Paul's. She could hear his grunting intake of breath as her small hand glided over its hugeness, and her lips parted to make a small O of surprise and lust.
Harve shuddered. "Yeah, yeah, that's good ... so good, Missy."
Now both his hands were free, and he reached for the shoulder straps of Connie's nightgown, easing them down to the cleavage of her small tits as she massaged his big prick. Harve's fingers trembled, and sweat broke out on his face as he moved slowly, not wanting to break Connie's trance. He gently pushed the bodice of her nightgown down over the twin mounds of her precious, delicate little boobs.
Connie's breath came fast, and her small gorgeous tits heaved as the nightgown dropped lower. Her hard pointed nipples thrust out before his stare, making him gasp at their loveliness.
Harve luxuriated in the sight of those tiny perfect white mounds topped by their cherry-tipped little nubs. The pure sweetness of those pert, delectable goodies almost sent him shooting his wad on the spot. They were so small, so petite and lovely, so aching to be touched. His hands moved up to cup them, and his thumbs pressed the jutting buds of her nipples, making them poke out even harder.
Connie gasped, knowing that it was Harvey's horny, dirty hands on her tits. But she couldn't restrain the surge of fire that shot through her cunt at the feel of the enormous cock in her hand, which was tugging faster in response to his lingering hands.
In the yard, Irene was sucking now with unquenchable thirst as she pumped faster and faster on Paul's cock. Paul hunched and twisted, tearing at her lips with eager, harsh joy. "Swallow it, baby!" he gritted. "Swallow it whole, you horny bitch! You really love the taste of it, don't you? Suck it, babe, like you never sucked before!"
He jammed his cock into her mouth harder, enjoying the hunger on Irene's face as well as his own feeling of total freedom to do Whatever he pleased. He gyrated his hips harshly, cruelly jarring and twisting her encompassing lips, compelled by a feeling he'd never known before. He could do anything with Irene, knowing that she would accept what he gave out. Like a fantasy come true, it gave him a sense of power that he'd never unleashed before, not even with Connie-especially not with Connie! It was a complete and total power like nothing he'd ever felt, and it was terrific. He could do anything he wanted with this beautiful woman, whatever came to mind.
With sudden decision, Paul pulled his wet, throbbing cock out of Irene's mouth, and she groaned sorrowfully, making him laugh. "You're not getting off that easy, bitch. I'm going to fuck you where you love it, baby. Get on your knees and spread those fat cheeks, slut."
"You bastard!" Irene gasped, sensing the game Paul wanted to play and smiling at his domination of her. "You horny sweet bastard!" But she did as she was told, turning about to jut her rounded ass up at Paul's face. He was grinning as she followed his instructions and pulled the cheeks of her ass apart, blinking the pink puckered eye of her asshole at him. "Don't just sit there, you bastard!" Irene panted. "Stick that pitiful little excuse for a prick in me, and let's see if I can feel it!"
Urged by her challenge, Paul placed his cock at her sticky wet shit-ring and heaved with all his strength.
Irene screamed as his cock forced her cheeks apart and sank completely up her ass. She screamed again when Paul twisted violently, grinding against her assring.
"Feel that?" he grunted, clutching her hips.
"Oh, fucking shit, you prick!" she cried out, sobbing. "Do you call that little thing a pecker?"
Now Paul's anger flared for real. Before, it had all been a game-a delightful, naughty game. But now Irene's taunting made him flush with the memory of Harve's much larger cock, striking a sudden note of inadequacy. Blushing hotly, he was determined to show this bitch who was boss. He might not be hung like a goddamned horse the way Harvey was, but, by God, this lady was going to know she'd been fucked! He twisted again, and Irene cried out. And again, and again, pumping viciously in and out of her sopping asshole. And each sob, each cry only urged him on, faster and harder with each thrust of his cock.
As though from deep within a vague dream, Connie knew that it was Harvey's ugly cock she was holding, the same cock that had chilled and excited her last night. She knew that she was letting events overwhelm her, and that she should stop him. But she was so enthralled by the feel of those rough hands and that huge horny cock that she couldn't stop, and hardly even noticed the two people in the yard, hardly heard Irene's sobs as Paul plunged into her ass. By now Connie was too excited by her own growing horniness to notice anything else.
And Harve couldn't have been more pleased at her reaction. Her soft little hand was pumping away at his monstrous cock, and her breath came harshly as he rubbed her small tits. His mouth watered at their rising blush of pinkness, and his saliva worked at the sight of her hard exquisite little nipples, until he could stand it no longer and leaned down to kiss them.
Connie's breath caught as his lips touched them, as his tongue darted out to play with her firm buds. Harve squeezed and sucked them, rubbed his face in them and moaned at the beauty of their small tenderness. Like a baby, he sucked and licked until his spit dribbled down them and they gleamed in the morning light.
Connie's hand moved faster and faster over his cock, and she gasped at its hugeness, closing her eyes to completely feel the hard fat length of it as her cunt gushed hungrily.
The time was ripe, and Harve knew it. He pulled away from her lovely boobs, put his hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her down to her knees.
"That's right," he whispered. "Those precious lovebuds of yours want to be fucked, don't they? They want my cum spread all over them and rubbed into them. They want to feel a big prick between them, yeah."
He placed his huge cock between those marvelous little boobs, and Connie pressed her arms tight without thinking, crushing her small tits to its giant cock.
"Yeah," Harve said as his cock began to slide up and down the slick, tight cleavage of her breasts. "This is what they want, isn't it?" He watched hungrily as his oversized prod moved like a giant snake, jabbing its big ugly head up toward Connie's delicate lips. He rocked back and forth, faster and faster.
Connie panted, clasping the cock to her. It was so huge! So wonderfully huge! She hugged it between her tits, feeling herself come at the sliding caress of that cock. It felt so good, so good.
Harve's hips lunged as his cock began to ache, and Connie's perky jugs joggled with each new thrust between them, increasing his ache at the sight.
"This is what you really want, isn't it?" he gasped. "You want a big fat cock like mine to make you happy. Yeah . . .oh, yeah, squeeze those little lovebuds tighter, Missy, that's it. Yeah, make them bounce for Old Dad . . . yeah, yeah, yeah!"
He came abruptly, and hot jism shot up Connie's chest and neck, right up the side of her face, followed by pumping surges that dribbled white cum down between her boobs. Harve groaned in complete satisfaction as his hips jerked the final dregs of his load onto her naked heaving tits, and he managed a weak laugh.
"Those beautiful little buds, so sweet and tender . . . oh, Christ, that was great! Now rub it all in. Yeah, rub it on good, sweet doll."
His hands guided hers, ran them across her cum-dripping boobs and covered them with white sticky liquid. Connie felt soothing warmth sear through her, and opened her eyes once more. It felt so good.
Then she saw what her hands were doing saw Harve standing over her, his monster cock looming level with her face.
And at that moment, in one final twisting lunge, Paul shot his load up Irene's asshole, and she screamed again.
This time, Connie heard her scream, and she looked out to see her husband's face wrench as he exploded into Irene's asshole. Then they fell together on the wet blanket, and Irene murmured, "Oh, God, you're so beautiful, you sweet fucking bastard."
Connie looked from them to Harve's grinning face, then down at her sticky, white-creamed hands. "What ..." she muttered, jerked back to reality. "What did I . . . Oh, no! Oh, God, no!"
"Now, Missy," Harve said, smiling down at her cream-covered tits, "it's a little late to say that now, isn't it? Or can you honestly tell me that you didn't enjoy it?"
He laughed, and was still laughing as she flung an arm across her bare tits and, filled with shock and horror at what she'd done, fled up the stairs to the safety of her bedroom.
Chapter Six
After a hot soapy shower to wash the stickiness of Harvey's cum from her tits, Connie felt much better. Although it did little to ease her horniness, the caressing spray made her tingly and clean again, and it cleared away the weight of all the confusing emotions inside her. As the warm soothing water ran down her body and between her toes, Connie brought herself to re-examine the morning's events more rationally, although the memory of Paul and Irene together was still painfully vivid.
Why hadn't she stopped them? Why hadn't she called out to Paul, instead of standing there like an idiot and letting Irene seduce him? And then, when horny old Harve had "just happened to drop by", she almost got seduced, herself! What if she hadn't caught herself in time? Why, right at this very moment he might be sticking that enormous cock of his right up into her poor, tortured cunt!
That thought made Connie itch all over again, and hastily she pushed it from her mind and shut off the shower. As she stepped out and toweled herself dry, she heard the buzz of the lawn mower start up again, and peeked out the curtained bathroom window to see Paul once more dressed and busily cutting grass as if nothing at all had happened.
Dressing in short-shorts and a tight T-shirt that showed the sharp outline of her upright nipples, Connie realized how hungry she was and went down to the kitchen.
Paul had thought of everything. The refrigerator was well-stocked, and she was finishing her second cold ham sandwich when he came in, hot and sweaty and grinning at her in pure, blank innocence.
"Well, well, awake at last! Morning, baby."
He bent and kissed her lightly on the forehead, and a turmoil of emotions swept through Connie at the sweet-sour smell of Irene's reeking pussyjuice mixed with the acrid scent of his sweat. Suddenly, she wanted to clutch him to her, to cry out that she had seen everything. She wanted to admit what Harve had done to her and beg Paul's forgiveness. She wanted him to pull her to the floor and fuck her the way he had fucked Irene, jamming his cock brutally into her little cunt the way he had his neighbor's.
A warm glow of spreading heat flooded Connie's body as she imagined Paul doing to her all those things he had been secretly wanting to do, the things he had done with Irene. But already Paul turned his back to her and stood at the kitchen sink splashing cold water on his face.
"Paul ..." she said in a low husky voice, staring down at the triangle of sweat that soaked through his cut-offs, outlining the crack of his firm, taut, hairy ass. "Paul, Harve dropped Paul looked at her, his face dripping. "Yeah, I just ran into old Harve and returned his lawn mower. I invited him and Irene over tonight, if that's all right with you."
Anger flared in Connie at that, and she burst out, "You invited them over again? Haven't we seen enough of neighbors for a while? I thought this was our honeymoon! Aren't people supposed to have some time alone on their honeymoon?"
Paul winced like a little boy beneath her anger, and his tone instantly grew apologetic: "I'm sorry, hon. I should've thought ... but hell, I felt guilty after the way we acted last night, and I just wanted to make it up to them, show them that we're nice people, too. You know, they've really put themselves out for us."
Especially Irene! she wanted to retort stingingly, but didn't.
She knew why Paul had invited them over-he felt guilty, all right, but not about last night. He felt guilty because of the terrible lusting hunger that had made him fuck Irene's willing body the way he had. He wanted to make up for what he had done to Harve's lover. Paul wanted to soothe his guilt, not knowing that Harve had watched gleefully, not knowing what Harve's fat, ugly cock had done to Connie!
Paul wiped his face dry and came over to stand before her, and his hands dropped to her shoulders. "You don't really mind, do you, hon? I mean, we've got years together, and it's only one evening. I feel like we owe it to them."
"Oh, all right. Just one more evening," Connie relented, melting beneath the hot touch of his wet hands, despite her anger. Paul bent and kissed her again, and suddenly she wrapped her arms about him and clung tight, feeling the itching flow of her creamy cunt. "But that gives us all day, doesn't it?" she whispered, reaching for Paul's cut-offs.
Before he could react, she had jerked his shorts down, exposing his smelly, shriveled prick. Connie caressed it, cupped the weight of his hairy balls in her hand as Paul gave a startled gasp and chuckled: "Well, well, it looks like I should've finished what I started this morning. But really, babe, I'm pretty tired right now. Can't you wait until we get upstairs, and I've had a nice cooling shower first?"
"No, I can't," Connie said sternly, her face hardening with determination. She stood up under Paul's startled gaze and started unbuttoning her shorts. "If you're going to invite people over every night, then I'd just better get what I can while we're alone. And that means right here and now!" Still holding his balls in one hand, she jerked her shorts down and kicked them off.
Paul's gaze fastened on her steamy mound of glistening cunt-fur, and Connie drew herself forward, rubbing her bristling hairs against his limp cock. And despite its fervent workout with Irene, his prick began to harden.
Paul tore his eyes away and guiltily looked around the kitchen as though someone might come in at any moment. "I don't think this is exactly the right place, do you?"
Anger spurred Connie's hunger, and suddenly her cunt drooled even more and her mouth drew into a hard line. He had the utter gall to say that, after fucking another woman right on their lawn!
"Yes," she hissed, guiding his cockhead between her legs and rubbing the length of it against the stretched wet lips of her pussy. "This is exactly the right place, and you're going to fuck me right here, whether you want to or not. Understand?"
"What the hell's got into you?" Paul asked, puzzled. "Look, Connie, I just want to get cleaned up first, that's all. If you can just give me a couple of minutes ..."
"Your time's up, buster!" Connie said, using a commanding tone that clamped Paul's mouth shut in total surprise. His easy submission, his refusal to argue or fight back, made Connie even angrier.
This wasn't the Paul who had so violently made love to Irene, who had literally tortured her and pissed on her, who had laughed as his cock tore and dug into her asshole. This was Connie's Paul, the Paul she had thought she loved-weak and tender and submissive-hardly a man at all! Surging with her own growing rage and the fresh memory of that other Paul, she suddenly wanted to arouse him, to make him treat her the way he had Irene. She wanted to draw out that hidden part of him, make him dominate her and use her and possess her the way he had his neighbor.
She wanted to bring that other Paul alive!
"You're going to do just what I say," she ordered, shivering with horny anger. "And if I say I want it right now, then you give!"
Paul just stared, stunned.
Overcome by fury and his lack of reaction, Connie ran her fingers through his dark wavy hair, grasped handfuls of it and abruptly pulled his head down in a burst of horny strength.
"Hey!" Paul resisted momentarily as his head was forced down across her body. His knees bent. "That hurts!"
Connie smiled maliciously as that hint of the other Paul showed through. "Suck me, lover! See how you make me cream? Lick it all up, or Momma will have to hurt you some more!" And with that, she pushed his head down roughly until Paul's face rubbed her wet-tinged cunt hair.
At first, Paul pulled back, amazed at her behavior. Then the sweet scent of her pussy captivated him, and he grinned. "Sure, babe. Whatever Momma wants."
His refusal to resist sent a dull wave of disappointment through Connie. But then his tongue shot between her thighs, lapping at the juices that dribbled down them, and a shudder of delight coursed over her.
"That's it," she murmured, guiding Paul's head with small jerking movements that made him groan with pain. "Lick it all up like a nice boy! Now lick my cunt . . . slide your sweet tongue over my pussylips . . . ahh, yesss!"
Paul's tongue dipped between the lips of her cunt, and Connie pushed her hips hard against his face until he could hardly breathe.
"Now stick that wonderful tongue up into my pit, make it fat and hard and wet . . . oh, oh, yes, yes!"
Her legs parted wide as he followed orders and darted his tongue into her hole, shooting sparks of pleasure all through her. In the midst of this tremendous gushing sensation, Connie remembered what she really wanted and gave Paul's head another violent jerk.
He moaned at the pain, but he didn't fight back. His eager tongue slid in and out of her oozing cunt, making Connie writhe, pushing her hooded clit roughly against his face in spasms of hot delight.
"Oh, jam your beautiful tongue into me! Make me come . . .yes, yesss!" Connie heaved against Paul's face as he carried out her command, cramming his tongue, fat and slick, into her cunt as her hard little clit rubbed his face and sent her into a jolting climax. "I'm coming! Oh, baby, make me come harder harder! Oh, fuck, you're making me come!"
Her hips were grinding wildly, tearing at Paul's lips as cunt-cream gushed out onto his face and trickled down his chin. He greedily licked up the flood of delicious cream that poured from her twitching cunt, then looked up at her with a big wet grin.
"Enjoying yourself, babe?"
Sudden blazing fury overwhelmed Connie. He was actually enjoying the way she treated him! Now her anger leaped forth, mixed with waves of hot pleasure.
"You're not finished yet," she said haughtily, giving Paul's hair a sharp twist that made him blink in pain. She pushed him back on the cool linoleum floor and crouched down over his face, still clutching his hair. "Now the back door, lover. I want to feel that wonderful tongue sliding up my ass like a big prick. Now be a good boy, and do what Momma tells you!"
Paul obeyed her hungrily. His tongue flicked out, caressed the puckered ring of her shithole and slowly eased in.
Connie gasped, and her ass-muscles gripped his big soft tongue as it forced its way up into her and licked up the moist walls of her ass. She gyrated her hips as Paul's tongue slid in and out like a big soft cock, making her cuntal juices stream down his face. She heaved against his mouth and heard Paul's muffled gasp as her thighs crushed his head, shutting off his breath. His tongue was crammed deep into her asshole, and Connie cried out, hunching his face and once again coming in a sweet acrid torrent of cream. She pulled wildly at Paul's hair, mashing his face to her sopping cunt as she came again and again, sobbing for breath.
Vaguely Connie remembered her angry resolution to release the hidden side of Paul, and vaguely a new idea arose even as she surged in the throes of climax. It was time to take a page from Paul's own book and see if she could draw him out.
"I'm coming!" she cried out, not having to pretend. "Oohh, you're making me come so hard I can't stop. I . . . unnn . . . I'm going to piss! I can't help it . . . I'm pissing!"
And with that, she released the contents of her bladder on Paul's face. Steamy yellow piss flooded his mouth and nose and streamed down his face, and still his tongue dug into her slick ass, faster and harder than before. She was pissing all over him- and he liked it!
Connie didn't have time to be shocked. The sudden surge of piss down her grinding thighs, and Paul's increased vigor, made her forget all about her resolution as he lapped up piss and pussyjuice and jabbed again and again into her asshole.
She found herself stroking his hair and whimpering, "Good, baby . . . sweet, sweet baby."
He licked and sucked her cuntjuice. Connie couldn't help herself. Her trembling thighs slid urgently down from Paul's wet grinning face and hovered above his hardened cock, then she shoved violently down on it, stretching the tight lips of her pussy and filling her with his throbbing cock. Paul arched until her soft-furred split cuntlips rubbed his curling cockhair. She bounced up and down wildly, in complete abandon.
"Oh, fuck me!" she cried, gasping. "Fuck me, make it hurt! Oh, Paul, ram it into me until I scream! Fuck me . . . piss on me . . . bite my titties until they bleed! Oh, Paul, screw me until I can't stand it! Paullll!"
Her quivering cunt came down on his thrusting prick in a surging burst of oblivion, and Paul groaned as his sticky white load shot into her cunt in huge hot spurts, making Connie's head swim.
She gave a small scream and collapsed on him in a writhing heap, sobbing in ecstasy as her cunt soaked up his cum, draining him completely. Her inflamed cuntlips sucked the last goodness of his jism, and Paul's arms encircled her in a gentle loving embrace, their bodies twitching through the last dregs of orgasm.
He stroked her hair lightly, and he whispered, "Oh, shit, Connie, I didn't know you could be like that. That's my girl, my sweet precious little girl, my baby."
His words suddenly brought back to her the image of Irene, making Connie blush with anger. She heaved herself up and looked down at his tender expression, overcome with anger.
"I'm not a baby!" she blurted, letting the words come spilling out. "And what about Irene? Is she your baby, too? You certainly didn't treat her like one out on our lawn this morning, did you?"
"Connie ..." Paul's lips worked as he stared up at her with a stunned, guilty expression. "Connie, I . . . "
Connie felt the tears spring to her eyes, and her body shivered with renewed fury. "You certainly didn't treat her like a baby when you fucked her, did you? Or when you pissed on her and made her lick your cock clean, or when you fucked her in the ass and made her scream! Were you thinking of her as a baby then?"
Paul looked hurt and confused, his face reddening with guilt. "Honey . . . Connie, I swear . . .
I didn't mean ... it was just that ..."
"You didn't mean?" Connie sobbed out; her lips twisted with bitter sarcasm. "You didn't mean to fuck another woman, to do all the things you wouldn't dare do to me? You . . . oh, you bastard!"
And without even expecting it, Connie hauled back her hand and slapped Paul's face. Then, before he could stop her, she leaped up, causing his soft wet prick to make a slurping sound as it slid from her cunt, and raced, sobbing, up the stairs to her bedroom.
She slammed the door and locked it, then fell on the bed and began to cry as Paul's jism leaked from her cunt and onto the crisp sheets.
He knocked at the door, tried to open it, and knocked again. "Connie?" His voice was abject, sorrowful. "Connie, I . . . I'm sorry. I know that sounds lame, but you've got to understand, I didn't mean for it to happen, and neither did Irene. It was just . . . oh, God, honey, I wouldn't hurt you for anything!"
Jealous and hurt, Connie spent the rest of the day moping about in her new empty home while Paul, too ashamed and embarrassed to face her, puttered around in the yard. He didn't come in until night was falling, and the two of them ate supper in silence, neither strong enough to break the wall that had grown between them.
Finally, Connie finished her meal and forced herself to speak. "What time will they be here?"
Paul glanced at his watch and darted a look up, not quite meeting her gaze. "I told them to stop by at eight. About a half-hour."
"Then I'd better get these dishes done and clean up." She reached for the plates, but Paul was quicker.
"You go ahead," he said, eager to do some little thing that might melt the icy wall of his guilt. "I'll tend to the dishes."
Wordlessly, Connie turned and went upstairs, where she showered and donned a pair of white slacks and a sheer blouse, not bothering with underwear. She sprayed herself lightly with perfume, then stood before the bathroom mirror for one last critical self-examination. As she stared at her own petite reflection, her eyes began to burn in pent-up emotion. This had been the loneliest, most miserable day of her life. Not even the empty innocence of her past could compare with the hurt and yearning Paul had made her suffer. She had never known that she could ache so much, and all because of him.
If only it had been her instead of Irene this morning, if only Paul had let himself go with his own wife . . . Connie wiped quickly at the tears that threatened to brim over. The bastard! If only she could make him realize, understand that she was a woman, too, and not just the innocent bride he considered her ... If there were only some way to make him realize that she was a woman-and a horny woman at that-a young, strong woman with needs of her own ... If there was just something she could do to prove that she didn't want to be innocent ...
Thoughtfully, soothed by a possible solution to her problem, Connie ran her hands down her tits, feeling the stiffened pebbles of her nipples in a growing warmth that spread through her belly. He wanted to really let himself go, did he? Well, two could play at that game! Maybe it was just about time Paul Baker paid for his extramarital fun!
She heard a knock on the front door, the voices of Harve and Irene, and Paul's call to her up the stairs: "Honey, our guests are here!"
Pleased at her new frame of mind, Connie caught herself actually smiling in anticipation. "That's right, you bastard," she whispered vengefully to herself, "you're going to pay, all right!"
Warmed by this notion, eagerly, almost lightly, she bounced down the stairs to greet her guests.
Chapter Seven
Harvey and Irene were seated on the divan, and already Paul was serving Harve a drink.
"Well, here comes our Missy now!" Harvey rose at her entrance, and his beady eyes traveled knowingly up and down Connie's- body, sending a little shiver of excitement through her, though she tried to ignore his look. "And don't you look good enough to eat!" he exclaimed, his teeth glinting hungrily. For the first time in two days he had actually changed clothes-a clean T-shirt and a glaring orange pair of Bermudas that hung loosely over his fat belly.
"It looks like we came over a bit early," said Irene in her husky deep voice, "but I guess we just couldn't restrain ourselves. We've been so lonely for neighbors, it's wonderful just to have people to talk to again."
Irene sat primly on the edge of the divan and smiled with her sharp, even, white teeth flashing, and Connie noticed with a returning tremor of jealousy that she looked none the worse for the morning's wear. In a soft green dress that clung tantalizingly to her figure, she held Paul's nervous gaze, and her smile turned to taunt him secretly.
Connie broke in quickly: "Maybe if you two got married, you wouldn't be so lonely, dear."
Harvey choked on his drink, and Irene looked at Connie with a wistful expression that for a moment almost made her sympathize. "That's what I keep saying, but no one seems to hear me."
Paul laughed giddily, and Connie glanced curiously at his slightly weaving figure. Obviously he had already guzzled a couple of drinks while Connie showered, and even as she watched, he downed another and spoke: "Sorry about my appearance, but I'm afraid you've caught me unprepared, so if you'll just excuse me I'll wash some of this sweat off and change."
"Oh, please, don't!" Irene rose from the divan and caught his arm, turning her fetching smile on Connie. "Don't you think men are beautiful when they've been working? So ... so masculine!" Her fingers ran absently over Paul's arm as she spoke, a motion that might have seemed innocent if Connie hadn't known better.
But she did, and her lips parted in a bitter little smile. "Oh, I agree completely! Now you do just as Irene says, Paul. We don't want you to wash a thing off!"
Paul, already heady from his intake of alcohol and the embarrassment of facing Irene under Connie's knowing gaze, gave a short wild laugh. With the dried odor of sweat clinging to his shirt and cut-offs, and the lingering aroma of two cunts still heavy on his cock, he reeled before them. "In that case, I could use another drink. Harve?"
"For Chrissakes, I haven't even started this one!" Harve's grin widened as Paul poured himself another slug and downed it with trembling, nervous fingers. "You're really putting it away like a pro, boy."
"Oh, yes," Connie said in a lilting tone. "He does so many things like a pro. You should see him, Harvey!" She glanced wickedly at Irene, who was hungrily watching Paul's every move. "Don't you think marriage does that to a man, dear?"
"Mmm?" Irene tore her eyes away for an instant. "Oh ... oh, yes, I'm sure." Then she glanced over at Harve, whose face went gray. "But there are some men who insist on keeping their amateur status, no matter what."
Connie made note of the look that passed between Harve and Irene, and suddenly she thought she understood better what was happening. Irene was trying to make Harvey jealous! The way she fawned over Paul was meant to jolt him into marriage. Either way she couldn't lose, because if Harvey refused to get mad enough to marry her, at least she could still have fun with Paul! Connie fumed at the thought.
Paul laughed again, a little hysterically, and poured another belt.
"Shouldn't we have some music?" Connie spoke out innocently, putting her plan of revenge into action.
She wanted to make Paul squirm, to drink in his nervousness and repay him for the jealousy and hurt she had suffered. She wanted to watch him wriggle on the hook, caught between the adoring, hungry eyes of Irene and the knowing, cold gaze of Connie. Also, admittedly, she felt a little turned on by Harve's presence, and the memory of his huge prick between her tits. If Paul only knew! Wouldn't he be as hurt and shocked as she had been?
"You're the one who likes music, aren't you?" She found herself smiling at Irene, and looked down at her empty hand. "Oh, Paul forgot to give you a drink. And you have to drink up, or this won't be a party! Paul, give Irene a glass while I put on some music, won't you?"
"I really shouldn't . . ." Irene began, but a small guiding push of Connie's hand sent her gliding toward Paul.
Harvey looked on in silent laughter, and Connie caught herself winking at him brazenly as she put a batch of records on. He knew how she felt. He had seen her shame and disgrace, and he knew that a sweet yearning for revenge was running through her mind.
And since Harvey didn't mind, why should she?
Soft music filled the living room, and Connie swayed innocently to it, knowing that Harvey's horny eyes were glued to her shifting asscheeks in the tight fabric of her slacks. She turned to see Paul watching her in glazed confusion, while Irene sipped the drink he had given her and stared blatantly at his cock.
"Now, that's no way to celebrate!" Connie hurried up to the couple and grabbed the Scotch bottle, refilling both their glasses and then pouring herself a shot. Holding her glass up in Irene's face, Connie purred. "As hostess, I'd like to make a toast just for us girls. To men ... to sweet, wonderful, thoughtful men!" She clicked Irene's glass and raised her own to her lips. "Drink up, dear. You have to drink to a toast like that!"
Irene hesitated, then smiled warmly. "All right. To men." And she drained her glass.
"Who wants to dance?" Connie asked quickly. "Paul . . . darling ... I know Irene would like to. Wouldn't you, dear?"
"Look ..." Paul began angrily, but Irene was already nodding her head, unaware of Connie's malicious manipulations.
"Come on, Paul," Irene urged with a glance in Harvey's direction. She set her glass down and held her hands out to him as her hips shifted in rhythm to the music.
Paul's face burned. He glared at Connie, gulped his drink down, and took Irene in his arms. "All right. What the hell." He laughed humorlessly, puzzling Irene as they embraced and moved across the floor.
Then Connie turned to Harve. "Come on, Harvey. You're not going to spoil the party, are you?"
Harvey, who had been taking it all in with a smirk, grimaced and shook his head, patting the seat beside him. "Haven't you started enough trouble tonight? We'd better just sit this one out and see what happens."
Connie shrugged and sat down beside him. She noticed the forgotten drink in her hand, and with a deep breath drained it, then shuddered at the awful taste.
In the center of the living room, Irene wrapped her arms around Paul's neck and rotated her hips against his in a slow-motion dance while he tried drunkenly to keep in step. The alcohol was having its effect on both of them, and with each movement she pressed herself closer, until her jutting mammoth tits mashed against his chest and heaved up from the low cleavage of her dress. She rested her head at Paul's neck, and Connie caught a glimpse of perfect white teeth that flashed as Irene nibbled and kissed his neck.
Paul reeled against her, overwhelmed by the demanding presence of this woman whose cunt-odor was still on him, yet still aware that his wife was watching him knowingly.
Suddenly, torn by guilt and the growing bulge in his cut-offs, he pushed himself away and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. "Oh, Christ," he said in a cracked whisper, "I need another drink."
Irene watched him scurry to the Scotch bottle that rested on the living room bar, but didn't stop the swaying movements of her body, as though hypnotized by the music.
Connie saw that the alcohol was taking effect, and said briskly, "Don't you think Irene has such a perfect body for dancing? I only wish mine were so beautiful. I'd never hide it!"
Irene seemed not to hear, but her hands slid down the swell of her tits and over her twisting rounded hips.
"And she does it so wonderfully . . . like an expert!" Connie exclaimed with pure, sweet sincerity. "Don't you just wish you could see more ... if she would only let us?"
All three of them looked at her in surprise.
"Connie!" Paul burst out. "What the hell Irene had turned slowly, examining Connie's smiling face, and then flickered her own brief smile of realization. "Very well, if that's what you want. I have no objections." Then she reached around and unzipped the green dress all the way down, displaying the rippling muscles of her back down almost to the crack of her ass. Like Connie, Irene wore no underwear, and as she shrugged out of the shoulders of her dress, Paul stared dumbfounded.
Irene shifted before him to the slow music, and her hands pushed the dress down until her straining tits leaped free practically in his face, their inch-long nipples standing out pink and yearning. Paul watched with a drink halfway to his lips as she pushed the dress down her hips, and the dark little pit of her navel made wild mesmerizing gyrations. She turned her back to him, luxuriating in his drunken horny gaze, and slipped the dress slowly down until her asscheeks jutted out naked and firm-the same cheeks that had sheathed his pounding cock that morning. Then she turned back again and let the front of the dress slip over her glossy thick black cunt-curls, letting each wiry raven lock spring free of its own accord until her matted triangle of fur writhed beneath his stare. Then Irene let the dress slip to the floor, and she stood completely nude before her audience, swaying freely, without embarrassment, to the music.
Irene's drunken sexy dance had an unexpected effect on Connie. At first she had watched with malicious glee at Paul's confusion of emotions, but her gaze kept turning back to Irene's luscious sensual dance. As Irene's dress fell in a pile to the floor, Connie felt her cunt beginning to cream. She had to admit, Irene's black-muffed body was gorgeous. As she swayed and gyrated before them, even Connie was forced to watch. Irene's every movement, every rounded bump of her hips and jiggle of her bare tits, was sexual and alive in a way that made Connie envious.
How could she blame Paul for staring? How could she blame Harvey's heavy rasping breath as he squirmed beside her? Irene was so sexy! Why, if she'd been a man right now, her own palms might be itching and her cock burning with desire! Could she blame either of them?
As though fully knowing the effect she had, Irene's dance grew wilder and uninhibited. Like a belly dance, she rotated her hips before Paul, and her hands cupped her full tits and pushed them out even further, offering them to him. Paul licked dry lips, oblivious to even Connie's presence.
Connie gasped as Irene's rigid dark nipples brushed against Paul's wetted lips and drew back teasingly when his mouth opened automatically to receive them. So intently was Connie watching that she hardly noticed when Harvey's arm slipped about her shoulders.
Irene swayed forward, poking her huge boobs into Paul's face and pulling them back again, out of his reach. She taunted him, touching her long nipples and making them leap before him. She drank in his torment, and the sweet scent of her creaming pussy filled the room as she tweaked her nipples, then lifted one large breast to take the hard bud between her lips, making Paul watch as she sucked and licked her own delectable tit.
The smell of her own cunt juice drove her wild with lust, and cream dribbled down her thighs, making them glisten. She stared down at the bulge in his cut-offs, and her hand dipped to touch it, then drew back teasingly, only to dance in again, plucking at his zipper.
Before Paul knew it, his pecker leaped out hungrily, throbbing for the woman who weaved in front of him.
Connie shuddered with her own burst of cunt juice at the sight of his reddened hard prick, and the salty aroma of her own juices mingled with those of Irene. Beside her, Harvey made a strangling sound in his throat, and she glanced down to see that his monstrous cock was also growing hard, like a fat sluggish snake waking and slithering from its hiding place, until it poked its ugly huge head out of the leg of his orange Bermudas, quivering. The sight took Connie's breath away, and only the sudden abandon of Irene's dance could tear her eyes from it.
Irene was sweating now with exertion and horniness. She was doing a slow, sensuous bump against Paul's hard cock, first brushing her hip against it, then the cheeks of her ass, then her thick-furred slobbering cunt, then crouching to let it rub between her dangling tits, then touching it to her hot lips. She pushed herself against it, dancing away each time he made a move to reach for her.
Paul let himself be taunted as Irene's hands slid from her tits down to her wet cunt and parted her gushing pussylips to let him see how pink and wet and lovely her cunt was. Her thumb eased back the inflamed hood that hid her hard clit, and a finger rolled the jutting lovebud around, making her hips twitch in ecstasy. As Paul stared, Irene's fingers slid over the length of her parted cuntlips, then darted into her hole-first one, then a second and third, until all four fingers were jammed into her cunt and her thumb was pressed to her clit lovingly. Irene heaved against her hand in a frantic dance, jiggling and bouncing as her fingers pumped in and out, and juice flowed down her hand.
Paul continued to stare, his body knotted with lust.
Connie's own hips were twitching in rhythm to Irene's as cream stained her white slacks, and she felt one of Harvey's hands sneaking over to fondle her braless tits. The mere touch of his fat, horny hands on her nipples sent fire searing through her, and tremors surged throughout her cunt and his thick rough fingers began to carefully unbutton her blouse. She knew she should stop him; Harvey had no right to take advantage of her like this. But she knew that she didn't want him to stop.
Now Irene's eyes glazed as she jabbed her fingers mercilessly in and out of her gaping twat, and suddenly she began to roll her head, still staring at Paul's aching prick.
"Oh baby," she gasped, "you sweet little hung prick ... oh ... oh .. . oh, God, I'm coming! Make me come, baby!" She wriggled and bounced before him, fastened on the sight of his throbbing pecker. "Oh, fuck me, you bastard! Can't you see . . . shove it up my twat . . . ohhh!"
She writhed and jammed her entire hand into her stretched pussy, and that broke the spell for Paul. He lurched forward, grinning with sudden cruel lust, and unexpectedly caught Irene's slithering wet hand and shoved it even farther up her, making her cry out. Paul couldn't help himself; caught up in his own hunger and the overpowering possession of her, he laughed at her pain.
"You want it, baby?"
"Yes!" she cried. "Yes, you beautiful bastard . . . yes, yes!"
He jammed her hand up her cunt harshly, and Irene sobbed, biting her lip. But Paul knew that she was loving every minute of it, the way she had this morning. She wanted it like this, like a cruel battle between them. She had taunted him purposely, just for this reaction. And, he was discovering to his own surprised satisfaction, he enjoyed it as much as Irene. To be able to really let himself go, do whatever he wanted, to fuck her or hurt her or piss on her as he pleased, to degrade and abuse that perfect tanned body and to have her beg for more!
It was a dream come true, and Paul responded eagerly.
"Just how bad do you want it?" he demanded, twisting his hand violently, making Irene cry out again as her pink cuntlips stretched farther. "Bad enough to pay? Fifty, a hundred dollars?"
"Goddamn you, yes!" she cried out, her eyes glinting with secret pleasure under her mask of pain.
Paul slapped her. Her head rolled back, and raven hair flew across her shoulders. A gush of cream shot down her hand and over Paul's fingers, and when she turned back, she was actually smiling!
"Fuck me," Irene whimpered. "Jam your cock into me, do anything, but fuck me!"
Paul knew he had to have her now. He jerked her hand out of her cunt and kicked Irene's feet from under her, making her fall in a gasping heap. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled her legs up and draped them over his shoulders, then rammed his prick into her glistening cunt. The sheer touch of Paul's prick inside her made Irene come, and she sobbed with pleasure as he rocked forward until her joints popped and her knees grazed the floor beside her head. He rocked back and forth, the entire weight of his body cramming his cock deep into her, and Irene sobbed for breath as she came again and again.
Donnie was entranced by the sight at her feet. She could feel the weight of Paul's cock as if she were the one beneath him, not Irene. She gasped as he rocked forward, slamming his prick ever deeper. She creamed at the lolling expression of joy in Irene's face.
Harvey's hands undid the last button of her blouse, and Connie shrugged it off, not taking her eyes from the scene before her, not even as Harvey's head came down to nuzzle her rigid nipples, and horny noises rose from his throat. Connie had never seen such utter abandon on Paul's face, and for the moment she could no longer even feel jealousy.
She could only feel longing for him-a terrible, yearning hunger.
Harvey reached for the waistband of her slacks, and Connie knew she had to stop him. But the itching and creaming of her little cunt kept her from pulling away. As he bent over her, his fat hot prickhead nudged her leg, and she wanted so much to reach out and grab it!
Slowly he forced her slacks down. Connie's hips arched as they slid down her petite ass and the first crisp blonde cunt hairs popped free, making horny old Harvey chuckle. He tugged, and they slid farther, displaying the sopping clustered fur of her cunt. The air filled with her cuntbreath, and wonderful heat burned through her twat as the slacks slid down to her knees, then her feet.
Harvey pulled them away entirely, then tugged off his Bermuda shorts. Sitting there with his obscene hairy belly hanging down and his thin white legs bare, he might almost have been a funny sight.
Almost, but not quite.
That jutting cock that waved straight up in the air-it had to be over a foot long and at least three inches thick, Connie was sure. The sight of that hungry cock looming above his giant sweaty fuzzy balls kept her from laughing.
He was still chuckling as she gazed down at his throbbing snaky-veined hugeness. "You like it, don't you?" he said in a husky voice. "You like to look at it, to imagine it sliding into your sweet little cunt. I know what you want. You want to touch it again, the way you did this morning. And that's okay, because it likes to be touched. Go ahead."
He guided her hand to his cock, and for the second time that day Connie felt it pulsating in her palm. She gasped at the size of it-she could hardly get her hand around it! She slid her fingers up its length, trailing them along its winding veins, and rubbed them over its giant knobby head, making Harvey squirm.
So big-so hot!
Irene cried out, dragging Connie's attention away. She looked around to see that Paul had turned around inside her so that he rested on the backs of her thighs with his cock buried in her cunt. As Connie watched, he clutched the cheeks of Irene's parted ass and eased himself back until she was almost curled into a ball and his taut ass hovered above her face.
"Lick my ass!" he commanded, digging his fingers into her skin to keep his grip. "Lick it clean, bitch!" And he slapped one of Irene's asscheeks.
Gasping, crying out in pain and lust, she struggled to strain her head up, but couldn't quite reach Paul's ass. Her tongue flicked out, barely brushing his wiry hairs.
"Lick it, I said!" And with that, he slapped her again and again, until her asscheek was red and flaring.
By some inhuman effort, Irene strained harder and her tongue darted into his crack. Paul laughed evilly as the beautiful woman sunk her tongue up his ass, and he began to rotate Irene's hips, making her pink wet asshole wink.
Connie discovered that her hand was pumping frantically on Harvey's cock, and one of his big hands was entangled in her hair. Slowly he forced her head down.
"That's good, baby, real good. Now, you want to suck it, don't you? A delicate little mouth like yours hasn't ever tasted a really big cock before, and you're curious to find out, so here's your chance. That's it, Missy, just kiss it a little first . . . get used to it."
Connie couldn't believe she was really doing it. She was actually kissing the head of another man's cock! The other things hadn't seemed so bad-Harvey had already seen her nude, so that didn't really bother her very much; pumping his cock with her hand hadn't been such a terribly evil thing either, and that time when he had fucked her little tits-well, she had been dazed and confused, hadn't known what was doing. But this! Now she was aware, in control of herself, and she was kissing his gigantic pecker! And she liked it!
Connie kissed his ugly cockhead, ran her tongue over his little pisshole and tasted a drop of salty liquid there. She ran her lips over it, entirely, and she felt waves of cream gush from her cunt at its huge hardness. She heard her own small moans of pleasure and didn't resist as Harvey pushed her down on the divan and twisted around to admire her smooth white body. He sat on the edge of the divan, letting Connie taste his big cock, and his hand wormed its way down to her parted thighs, rippling over her tickling cunthairs to slide down the wet lips of her pussy. Connie's body surged up at his touch, and her moans turned to whimpers as one of his fat fingers plunged inside her cunt. Instantly, she began to writhe, and his finger worked into her tightness and began to pump like a little prick.
Now she licked and kissed his oversized cock in earnest and heard Harve's grating voice: "You really want to suck it, don't you? You want to wrap your lips around it and suck it all in, just as if your hot little mouth was a twat. You want to taste jism between your lips, to feel it spurt over your tongue and slide down your throat ..."
Connie couldn't stop herself. From between Harvey's skinny legs she could see Paul twisting around once more to face Irene, his ass gleaming with her saliva. He grabbed her behind the knees and rocked all the way forward, until Irene's legs touched the floor and her pink asshole gaped open as wide as Connie's little cunt. Connie's mouth stretched to its limits to take in the sensitive head of Harvey's prick, and his finger quickened its pace in her cunt, while his thumb began to twiddle her hard clit. Connie wanted to cry out at his thumbing, but that big pecker slid another inch into her mouth, making her gag.
Harvey eased his cock in and out of her sucking mouth, each time forcing it deeper. His finger dug into her sopping little cunt, and his beady eyes were glued to her twat-muscles, gripping it inside her. Bursts of cream flowed out onto his hand.
Faster and faster he drove his finger into her, and Connie sucked greedily as her hands jerked his rigid prick in growing hunger.
Irene sobbed as Paul rotated his full weight on her oozing cunt, and his feet left the floor as he jammed completely into her in precarious balance, making her thighs sag to touch her shoulders. Then she stopped sobbing-or making any sound at all. Her feet flopped lifelessly against the floor and a small trickle of saliva ran from her lips as she sank into an utter oblivion of climaxes, one on top of another like one tremendous, endless orgasm, making her come unceasingly from the wonderful thrust of the huge cock that was crammed into her.
Paul's writhings grew fiercer, and his breath came short and grunting.
Connie's head reeled with dizziness as almost half the length of Harvey's monstrous prick was jabbed down her throat, and her hips pumped eagerly to grind her cunt against his hand and feel his finger wriggle inside her.
Suddenly it all happened at once. Harvey groaned, and searing jism spurted into Connie's mouth, all the way to the back of her throat and up her nose, load after load of it streaming to fill her, making her swallow again and again to keep from choking on it. Harvey's load of cream muffled her cries, and his finger dug violently into her cunt, making sudden spasms arc through her body in wonderful waves of orgasm. She pulled her head away from his spurting cock to cry out, smashing her little clit against his palm in the throes of climax, her wide staring eyes fastened on Paul as he gave one final groaning lunge, shooting his white cum deep into Irene's thrashing cunt.
Irene screamed then-one long piercing wail of satisfaction. Paul slid from her body in a drunken, drained stupor and passed out, but still she screamed as his hot cum churned inside her, her pink soaked cunt gaping in the air.
Harve removed his finger and stood over Connie, holding his huge still-rigid pecker in his hands. "And now, Missy, you want to be fucked by this big cock, don't you?"
Connie stared up at his dripping prick, and sudden fear clutched her. So big! Oh, God, no! She looked wildly to Paul, but he was totally oblivious.
And there stood that monstrous prick, looming above her face with a big white dribble of cum still clinging to it, ready to sink into her cunt without mercy. Suddenly Connie realized what she had done. It had all started because of Paul's unfaithfulness and her jealousy, and now here she lay, ready to let another man fuck her! Connie gasped and dragged herself from the divan, fighting back her own surge of renewed desire as Harvey's cock continued to throb.
His face split into a big grin. "Don't fight the feeling, Missy. You know you want it."
"No," she whispered, horrified at her own yearning. "No, Harvey, I ... I can't ... oh, God ... oh, what've I done?"
"What's the matter, Missy?" Harvey's grin widened. He nodded over at Paul, who lay unconscious, and at Irene, who slumped in joyful oblivion. "Do you think they'd care right now? You're not going to run out on me now, not while I've got your sweet little pussy just itching for some real meat, are you?"
Connie's eyes suddenly burned with tears, as much at the shameful truth in his words as at the shock and humiliation of what she'd let him do to her.
"Oh, no!" she cried, even as her traitorous little cunt itched and creamed. "No ... oh, God, no!"
Blindly, sobbing at her own degradation, she fled up the stairs, followed by Harvey's derisive laugh.
Chapter Eight
When Connie awoke, she stretched sleepily, feeling the soft scratchiness of the bed-sheets beneath her nude body. Then the memories came flooding back, and she shuddered. Here she lay, still naked from last night's party, her delicate cunthairs clumped and matted from her own dried pussyjuice and the rank taste of Harvey's cum still in her mouth.
Connie wanted to gag at the thought. How could she have let Harvey do those things to her, when her only wish had been to torment Paul with his guilt-hadn't it?
Trying to push these thoughts out of her mind, Connie forced herself out of bed and showered the dirty feeling off her body-the memory of Harvey's hand digging at her cunt and his fat ugly cock spurting cum into her mouth. But it wasn't so much the things she'd let him do that she wanted to wash away. It was the things she wanted him to do!
Connie concentrated on the warm cleansing spray of the shower, soaping herself all over and letting the sudsy water run down the valley of her tits and stream down her thighs, making her young cunt feel clean and warm once more. It felt so good just to relax for a moment and shove away thoughts of horny old Harvey and his ugly cock, as well as her jealousy of Irene. It was wonderful to simply stand under the shower's comforting heat and forget that the past two days had ever happened, forget that somewhere within Paul lurked the man she really wanted.
By the time she finished her shower, Connie felt once more her old self. Slipping into shorts and a pale blue halter top, she went back into the bedroom and found Paul waiting for her.
The first glance that passed between them froze her, and it all came back in the wave of shame and humiliation that reflected in his hollow staring face. He had seen everything last night, knew what she had done with Harvey. And though he'd been too drunk and overcome by Irene's blatant sexuality to do much about it at the time, now Connie could see it all burning in the uncomfortable twitch of his face.
Paul opened his mouth, dropping his eyes from Connie's fearful gaze. "Connie She wanted to cry out. She wanted to run to him, sobbing, "Paul, oh, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen like that!" She wanted to break down in his arms and cry-to beat her small fists against his chest for the way he had hurt her-to beg his forgiveness with her arms clasped about his knees.
But she did none of these things. Too ashamed to move, she simply stood numbly before her husband and waited.
Paul cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes. "Honey, I'm sorry. Christ, I feel awful! Did I make too big a fool of myself?"
"What?" At first Connie didn't believe what she was hearing. He was acting as if nothing had happened last night!
Paul blinked and gave a small shrug. "I mean, I didn't purposely set out to spoil the party. It was just that . . . well, hell, can you blame me for having a few too many? What the hell went on anyway? I remember dancing with Irene, and then she started some kind of striptease, and then . . . " he shrugged. "About then I must've dropped out completely. Sorry I embarrassed you, hon."
Anger coursed through Connie, an anger like nothing she'd ever felt before, mixed with just a slight twinge of relief. He couldn't remember! After all she'd gone through, watching him fuck Irene and letting Harve undress her and stick his gigantic cock in her mouth and almost letting him fuck her-and Paul didn't even know!
"Nothing happened," Connie heard herself saying in a soft voice, her body trembling with rage. "Nothing at all happened."
Paul put his hands on her arms, and stared down at her upturned face. "I really am sorry for everything, darling, and I'm going to make it up to you. Listen, I've got to go downtown and straighten out some things with my new office, but after that we'll talk, and I'll make things right. You just wait and see." He kissed her, and his hands ran down to fondle her haltered tits briefly. Then he went to shower, leaving Connie standing there, shivering with fury and hurt.
She fled downstairs, wanting only to escape Paul. Somehow his total ignorance of what she had done last night hurt her even worse than the fact that he had fucked Irene. If that was all he cared, maybe she should have let Harvey fuck her! Maybe she should have let his massive cock force its way into her cunt, tearing and ripping at her precious pit uncaringly. She had run away, driven by her faithfulness to a husband who enjoyed fucking Irene more than he did her!
And Paul didn't even care!
With quivering hands she poured herself a stiff Scotch and drained it, gasping and feeling her eyes well with tears as the liquor burned through to her stomach. But instead of making her giddy and warm, the shot cleared away the last cobwebs of the morning, pushing everything into sharp focus. And now Connie realized the truth-Paul didn't love her. Baring itself, the bitter truth made Connie bite her lip. How could he love her and still enjoy Irene's perfect body more than he had ever enjoyed hers? How could he love her and not even notice when another man crammed his cock into her mouth?
Numb with this realization, Connie poured another drink, went into the kitchen and sat at the dining table as though in a daze, not even answering when a few minutes later Paul called out, "Be back soon, darling!" and she heard the roar of the car as it pulled from the front curb and drove away.
As she sat, forcing herself to sip the bitter Scotch, wild incoherent thoughts merged, until at last she knew what she had to do. Finishing her drink-and fighting back the protest her churning stomach made-she stood, peeked out the curtained window to see that, as usual, Irene was sunning herself in the side yard, and strode angrily out the back door.
This morning, Irene was wearing a black mesh see-through bikini that was even skimpier than the one she had worn yesterday. She lay on her stomach with the top unfastened and beads of sweat making her skin shine. Purposefully Connie strode up, planted her hands on her hips, and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
"You can have him."
Startled, Irene looked up and recognized her. "Oh, hello, dear. I didn't hear . . ."
"You can have him," Connie repeated, feeling the words rush out in one huge burst. "It's you he really wants, not me. I saw it all, yesterday and last night, and I know you make him happier than I can so I'm giving him up. He's all yours, Irene. And I hope you're both very happy together!"
Irene took off her sunglasses, stared at Connie with her wide blue eyes, and spoke slowly: "What on earth are you talking about, Connie? Paul doesn't love me."
Connie's lips twisted bitterly as she looked down at the woman who had given Paul so much more pleasure than she could. "What's the use in pretending? I saw you! He never enjoyed me that way."
Irene gave a small knowing laugh. "Then why are you blaming us? Maybe you should be blaming yourself, dear."
Her words burned like acid. Connie gasped and released her breath in a hiss. "You . . . you sick bitch!" Then she turned and fled to the house, sudden tears blinding her.
"Connie!" Irene called out. "Wait! You don't understand."
Connie fled, followed inexorably by Irene's voice: "It isn't me he loves, don't you know that?"
She raced up the stairs to her bedroom, dimly aware that Irene was behind her. Connie fell across her bed, sobbing uncontrollably in mortification and from the effects of the Scotch, and she heard Irene's voice in the doorway, panting with exertion: "Don't you know why he can be himself with me? It's not me he loves! It's not me he puts up on some goddamned pedestal like . . . like some kind of fucking queen! So what if we had a couple of good fucking screws! I wouldn't even have gotten that much from him if you weren't such a prissy little cunt! And I'm fucking glad you are, because . . . because ..."
At these words, Connie raised her wet face to look at Irene, who stood in the doorway with her bikini top forgotten and her big gleaming jugs heaving as her voice choked. And suddenly Connie realized the truth, because Irene was crying, too.
"Irene ..." she whispered, stunned. "I thought . . . you and Harve ... I thought you were just trying to make him jealous and get your kicks at the same time. I wouldn't have believed . . . you're in love with Paul!"
Then, with sudden understanding reached between the two women Connie stretched her arms out, and Irene fell into them, sobbing as though a dam had burst inside her. Connie stroked Irene's hair in a sympathetic surge that was almost motherly, and a glowing rush of pleasure coursed through her as the beautiful Irene clutched her tightly and cried.
Her naked heaving tits pressed against Connie's haltered ones, their hard pointed nipples straining against hers in a demanding way that made Connie's face flush. Tenderly she stroked Irene's warm back, feeling the skin ripple beneath her fingertips.
"I'm so sorry, Irene. I just didn't even think that ... I mean, I thought Harvey ..."
Irene rose to face Connie, her face streaked with tears. "I thought so, too, until Paul. Now . . . now I just ... I just . . ." She broke out again and hugged Connie tighter, sobbing.
A totally new thrill raced through Connie. She had always felt so helpless and small next to Irene's sensual perfection, but now the tables were turned. Now she felt strong-wonderfully, glowingly strong, in complete control. Because now she realized that it was Irene who was helpless, who was in love with a man she could never really have. And this realization made Connie warm with tender forgiveness. She stroked Irene's hair, whispering, "It's all right. It's all right, dear, dear baby Irene ..."
Irene lifted her tear-stained face, and Connie kissed her. The kiss was meant to be a soft, comforting peck, but Irene's hot lips on hers abruptly sent an itching, creaming rush through Connie's cunt.
This was the woman responsible for all her pain and anger, the woman who had nearly stolen Paul from her, now so utterly and totally in her power . . .
Automatically, Connie's tongue darted between Irene's lips, flicking across her sharp white teeth, and without thinking the older woman's mouth opened to receive it even as she gave a little moan of surprise. What began as an innocent kiss suddenly grew fervent and demanding as their lips pressed together and the hardening nipples of Irene's huge tits burned into Connie's smaller ones. Connie had never felt this kind of turn-on before, didn't know anything like it could even exist. But her cunt was suddenly on fire as she sat at the side of the bed with this other woman in her arms, this husband-seducer whose slick tongue darted into Connie's mouth with surprised but eagerly growing response.
Quickly Irene's tongue grew demanding, and her arms slipped around to encircle Connie. Caught up completely in this new wave of emotion, Connie felt herself unable to resist, even when she felt her halter being unsnapped and tugged down over her arms. Irene moaned with lust as she jabbed her tongue fiercely down Connie's throat, lapping at her sweet rippling skin while she pulled the halter free, crushing Connie's naked little tits to her own. Slowly she eased the small blonde back on the bed, and Connie squirmed as Irene's fingers plucked at her erect nipples and made them strain to be kissed.
Connie knew this shouldn't be happening, but she couldn't seem to find the strength to stop it. It made her so tingly to have Irene's fingernails tease and tweak her taut little tits, to feel Irene's dangling long-nippled jugs pressing against hers. She couldn't help it as her hands went out to clasp them, to cup their lovely hugeness and rub her palms to their jutting pencil-nub nipples.
Irene gasped as Connie's hands fumbled eagerly with her boobs, and she hovered above the pretty young blonde, smiling. "You like them, don't you? Mm, it feels so good to have them touched and admired by another woman, just the way I like to admire yours. Oh, they're so delicate and perfect, your little titties are so wonderful. I just want to kiss them! Wouldn't you like to kiss mine, too?"
And before Connie could answer, Irene shrugged her chest muscles, making one of her luscious huge tits dangle right across Connie's lips. Its big brownish nipple prodded, and before she knew it the long hard bumpy point popped right into her mouth. Connie rolled it against her tongue, and Irene made a sound of pleasure. Her nipple tasted salty with sweat, and Connie found herself licking and sucking it, her cunt creaming with Irene's each new moan of pleasure.
"Ahh, that's so good!" Irene gasped as she wriggled, and her bikini-clad hips ground against Connie's. "It feels wonderful to be tasted by another woman. Oh, oh, yes, that's Irene's sweet, good little girl."
Connie was sucking furiously, urged by her moans. Irene's pelvis bounced up and down against hers, rubbing Connie's wet cunthair beneath her shorts. She could smell the acrid odor of both their delicious cream-pumping twats, and that made her suck even harder.
"Oh, God, yes!" Irene cried. "Oh, baby girl, you're making me come! I never . . . uhh, never thought just having my . . . nnn ... my tits sucked could . . . aaannhh!"
Irene was grinding her cunt fiercely against Connie's now. Suddenly, panting, she pulled her beautiful big breast out of Connie's mouth with a slurpy plop.
"Ahhh, I can't stand it any more! I've just got to taste you now!"
And with that, she ran her lips down Connie's throat to her little tit-buds, flicking her tongue roughly over them both, squeezing and sucking and nipping them. And this time it was Connie's turn to gasp at this new sensation of having another woman's mouth giving her pleasure, licking and teasing her little boobs in a sensuous way that no man could have.
Irene played with Connie's tits until they were rosy and flushed, then ran her lips down along the slim younger girl's belly, pausing long enough to dip into her navel, until Connie was squirming. Then she moved lower, slowly twisting her body as she did, until her own thighs rested beside Connie's head. She fumbled at the blonde's shorts, unfastened and unzipped them, and her hands slid them down over Connie's legs, letting them fall to the floor.
The delightful aroma of Connie's arousal wafted up to her nostrils, and the bride's slim legs parted, displaying the pink petals of her wet drooling cunt.
Irene gasped at its perfection. "So beautiful," she whispered just barely loud enough for Connie to hear. "So lovely, just like a dewy flower. So hungry and yearning to be plucked by someone who knows how. it's so perfect and delicate, so . . . beautiful!"
And then her tongue was plunged between the lips of Connie's creaming slit.
Connie had never known such a delicious surge of juicy pleasure. Irene knew just what to do. Her tongue circled and teased her hooded clit, driving her wild with ecstasy. It slid up and down her sweet pussy lips, gathering and swallowing the precious juices as they flowed. She could feel Irene's cream-slicked face sinking deeper and deeper into her hole, could feel Irene's long silky black hair spreading over her thighs like a luxurious ticklish blanket. Her cunt jerked up to meet Irene's probing tongue, and her arms wrapped tight around Irene's waist as the older woman licked the unending fountain of her straining cunt.
Suddenly Irene somehow made her tongue thicker and harder, and it began to push into Connie's hole like a fat wet prick, parting her hot cuntlips and spearing into her. A wave of lust made Connie give a small cry and encircle Irene's head with her thighs as Irene pushed her tongue in and out just like a man's hard cock, making her writhe and twist in gasping oblivion.
Without knowing it, Connie clutched Irene's body tighter, and the older woman's bikinied muff pressed against her. Inadvertently Connie turned her head and found herself facing Irene's bikini-clad crotch. The aroused odor that leaked from it almost made Connie faint from sudden desire, and before she knew what she was doing, her hands slid under the firm elastic buttons and began to tug them off. Irene moaned her approval, and her prick-tongue began to slide in and out of Connie's aching cunt faster and harder.
Slowly the bikini bottoms slid down, and Connie gasped as the first glistening wet black curls poked free. She kissed them, and felt their springy bristly wetness on her lips as Irene tongue-fucked her harder and harder, making her hips twitch and strain. By now she was totally oblivious to all but that driving tongue and the sudden appearance of Irene's cunt before her as the bikini slid free. Irene's thick muscular thighs parted, and her lovely pink hole opened, slick with gushing, musky cream. Once again Connie marveled at Irene's taut thick clit. It stood up so rigid, just like a little prick.
She couldn't have stopped herself even if she'd wanted to. Irene's beautiful pink wet canyon split the thick black forest of her cunt with mesmerizing perfection, and her tongue fervently pumped into Connie faster than ever, licking up each fresh gush of cream as it came. Connie bent forward, drinking in the wonderful pussy-smell of another woman, and her small tongue flicked out to brush Irene's clit.
And that mere touch drove Irene wild. She plunged her tongue unmercifully into Connie's cunt, heaving and gasping and whimpering as Connie licked and sucked at her big clit, her little lips wrapped around it and slurping up the heady juice that drooled from the depths of her pit. Connie's soft white hands raced across the rippling flesh of Irene's asscheeks and found her winking asshole. Vaguely, in her daze, she remembered that Irene liked to be ass-fucked, and one of her little fingers toyed with the moist puckered hole and slid into it.
Irene's moans became tiny muffled screams of pleasure as Connie's finger began to slip in and out of her shitter in rhythm to her fucking tongue.
Together, the two women writhed and clutched each other, lapping at juices and digging their tongues into each other's cunts. Connie had never felt a thrill like this before, would never have believed herself capable of such a thing.
Suddenly Connie jerked her head away long enough to scream, "Oh fuck me, fuck me! I'm coming . . . oh . . . ohhh . . ."
And then Irene's cunt leaped to her face again, and climax after climax swept through Connie as her hot little tongue gouged in and out of that sweet hole.
Then Irene pushed her head away and crammed three thick fingers into Connie's juicy pussy, and she was crying out just the way she had those times when Paul fucked her: "Oh, sweet baby girl! Oh, oh, yeah . . .oh, gaaaaa ..." Her fingers plunged in and out of Connie, and both women came in a swirling series of climaxes, until both were sobbing and drained.
Then, weakly, Irene twisted around and lay atop Connie, pressing tits and cunts together, and they kissed deeply, mingling cunt-cream and saliva. Gently Irene stroked her long blonde hair and lay with her head buried in Connie's neck.
"Sweet, sweet girl. I love your little cunt. I absolutely love it! And you love mine, don't you?" She nuzzled Connie's neck and sighed.
"Well, well!" came a voice from the doorway, startling them both.
Irene jerked up. "Harvey!"
He stood there grinning, rubbing the bulge beneath his dirty Bermudas and taking them both in with his beady eyes. "Now I see why no one was answering doors this morning. And wouldn't old Pauly like to be here to see this."
Connie stared, dazed and uncomprehending. But Irene understood and flared angrily: "You wouldn't dare tell him, you . . . you horny bastard!"
"Oh, wouldn't I?" smiled Harvey, showing his yellow teeth. Then he shrugged and reached down to undo his Bermuda shorts. "Well, maybe I won't. If a couple of certain cunts can change my mind, that is."
Then Connie understood, too.
Chapter Nine
At first both women were too astounded to react. Harvey kicked off his shorts, jerked away his grubby T-shirt and stood naked before them. His abnormally huge cock was long and hard, wagging its big inflamed head at their soaked cunts as he approached the bed, licking his lips.
"Now, I think it's time for some real fun. And I can promise you, girls," he patted his hard throbbing pecker lovingly, "old Harve is going to show you ladies one hell of a good time."
Furiously Irene rose to her knees, glaring at him. "Forget it, Harve. You can do what you want with me . . . you do that anyway! But not Connie. Do you hear me? Not Connie!"
Harvey was grinning widely at her anger, his eyes feasting on her dribbling cunt. "Well now, maybe we ought to just ask her and see."
He turned to Connie, and the horny look on his face suddenly made her want to wriggle under the covers in shame. Before, she'd secretly enjoyed that horny look of his. But those times she had been playing a game, testing her power. This time the power was in Harvey's hands, and this time she was helpless. This time he was in control, not her.
"What do you say, Missy?" His greedy eyes traveled over her body, and only sheer force of effort kept her from trying to cover herself. "Do you want to give old Harve a good time, or do I tell Paul about this little scene of yours? He may not be quite as understanding as I am." He laughed evilly.
"Don't listen to this fat cocksucker, Connie," Irene retorted. "He won't do a goddamned thing, if he ever wants to see a pussy again in his lifetime! And I mean that, Harve."
Harvey laughed again, making his giant bulging cock joggle. "Honey, you couldn't go a week without sliding that sweet ass on this pole, and you know it. Now, what's it going to be, Missy? Does our little conversation end right here, or do I include Paul?"
Connie was staring fearfully at his waving red cock. The enormity of it chilled her, made her entire body shiver just at the thought of being fucked by it. But at the same time, a cock that size could tear and rip, could fill her young pussy to bursting and beyond . . .
"No," she heard herself say, unable to tear her eyes from it. "No, please don't tell Paul. I'll do anything you say, Harvey. Anything. But please, don't tell Paul."
"Connie!" Irene stared at her with shock, then gave a small fatalistic shrug and made a sound of exasperation in her throat.
"Good," Harvey said, pleased. "Yeah, that's good. You just do as old Harve says, and it'll be all right. Now, let's see ..." He looked from one to the other of them, and his grin widened. "You ladies seemed to be doing all right before I showed up, but I missed some of it, so let's have ourselves a little instant replay. Missy, you just slide back and let Irene do the work for a while. Yeah, that's my girl. Just lie back and spread those milky legs. I want a good long look at that cute little gash."
Numbly Connie followed his instructions. She lay down and opened her legs wide, closing her eyes in humiliation as he rounded the bed and stared down at her sopping young cunt.
"Wider, honey, yeah, stretch those legs until it hurts. I want to see every inch, right up into that beautiful pink hole." He chuckled as Connie's legs opened wide, until her feet dangled over the edges of the bed and her cunt gaped open.
Never before, not even on her wedding night, had Connie felt so utterly naked and exposed. Harvey's hungry stare burned into her pussy.
"That's good, real good. Now let's get some action. Irene?"
"You filthy cocksucking motherfucking bastard!" Irene blurted, making Harvey chuckle even louder. "Don't you think for one minute that I'll forget this!" Then, unwillingly, she knelt at the foot of the bed and began to kiss Connie's open cunt.
Connie shuddered at the familiar touch of Irene's lips. Still fresh with the memory of coming beneath those lips, she twitched despite herself as Irene kissed and nibbled.
"Stick that lovely tongue out, Bubs. I want to see you lick all that sweet juice up and swallow it.
Come on, you were doing so good before, you shouldn't mind an audience."
Obediently Irene's tongue flicked out, and Connie shivered as it slid up and down her open slit. She couldn't help creaming on Irene's face, and that made Harvey laugh. "Oh, yeah, that's what I want to see. Just go at it like it was sweet, sweet honey and you want to dip into that honey pot . . . yeah, yeah."
Irene's tongue slid up Connie's twat once again, and again her hips were drawn up to meet that fat, wet, soft prick that slipped in and out, making her gush even harder.
Harvey could no longer stand to be left out. Rounding the bed, he approached Irene. "Now, Bubs, we're going to show Missy here what it's really like to get a big cock. Just ease that beautiful ass of yours up and let me see that cunt. Ah, yeah, look at that leaking gash! Guess I'd better just plug the leak!" And without warning he rammed his huge rigid prick straight into Irene's pussy.
She sobbed as his cock surged into her, and Connie's eyes flew open to watch as Irene returned to Connie's soft cunt with trembling lips while Harvey rammed in and out of Irene's pussy to the full length of his oversized cock, making her choke back a fresh sob with each thrust.
Connie felt herself coming at the sight of the three of them-herself wriggling with pleasure under Irene's tongue, Irene gasping and heaving as Harve pumped his monstrous cock into her hole. A small part of her wanted to resist, but was overwhelmed in a rushing wave of creamy satiation as Irene's tongue dug in.
Connie clenched her hair, her hips jerked in spasms of sheer ecstasy, and she cried, "Oh, harder, harder! Ohhh!"
As she writhed, Harvey's fucking grew more and more frantic, until Irene sobbed out loud and his prick shot its heavy hot load of cum into her. Harvey jerked and twisted, gasping, then pulled his prick out with a groan.
In the throes of her orgasm, Connie knew that she was safe. Now, with his horny jism in Irene's pussy, she was safe. But then, why was Harvey still grinning?
Then she saw as he came around into her view- his fat ugly cock was just as hard and big as before. It hadn't lessened an inch!
"Now, ladies, now that we've enjoyed the preliminaries, let's really get this show off. See how wet and slick my pecker is from cum and pussy cream? It needs cleaning, and it's so big that it needs both of you to do the job. That's right, ladies. Lick it clean. Just the way old Harve likes."
He stuck his enormous cock between them, and both Connie and Irene bent to do his bidding. They licked and sucked, their mouths dwarfed by its incredible size. Harvey ran his hands through their hair, clutching a handful of black on one side and blonde on the other as the two women worked their tongues up and down his huge prick.
"Don't forget the balls," he chuckled. "One for each of you. Nice arrangement, eh?"
Connie and Irene sucked and licked his huge hairy balls until he sighed and drew away, satisfied. "Now, didn't that taste good? Ah, I see that some of my delicious cum is leaking out that terrible gash of yours, Bubs. Maybe you better just let Connie lap it up. Connie, you just lie back and let Bubs plant that sweet ass on your face, because I think it's time for you to have the treat of your life."
"Harve, no!" Irene retaliated. "You can't ..."
"Oh, yes, I can!" Harvey turned to Connie, leering. "Can't I, Missy?"
Connie knew what was coming. This was the moment she'd dreaded with mixed fear and curiosity. And now that it was here, she couldn't bring herself to speak. She merely gave a quick nod.
Fuming with frustrated anger, Irene climbed on top of Connie, spread her legs over the young blonde's face and slowly lowered her wet ass until Connie's tongue darted up to catch the white drool of Harvey's jism.
Still grinning, Harvey made the bed squeak with his weight, and Connie felt his thick hands lift her knees and bend them back, once more exposing her wet slit. Her burst of initial terror made her work her tongue feverishly on Irene's hard clit, and the black-haired beauty moaned and began to rotate her hips.
"Now this won't hurt but a second," Harve said softly, "and then you're going to find out what a real fuck can be like. Just relax, Missy, and enjoy."
She felt the huge head of his horrible cock rubbing the outer lips of her pussy, and Connie's tongue worked even harder in sudden tremoring fear. That monstrous reddened tip slid up and down her trembling twat, moistening itself with her juices and began to drive into her, inexorably. Her pussylips expanded, pushed outward to receive it, and she groaned.
Harvey's cock was inside her! She could feel it, hot and throbbing, filling her completely.
"Now, that didn't hurt, did it?" Harve chuckled. "And now that I've got the head in ... "
His cock moved into her deeper and deeper, and Connie fought down an instinctive scream. The walls of her cunt were pushed farther apart, until it felt that she was splitting in two. And on he came, more and more of him, as though it could never stop. So huge that it forced her legs wide in a spasm of forced acceptance, it surged into her, more and more and more of it . . .
Connie did scream then, but her scream was a muffled sob as Irene's cunt ground against her frantically working tongue.
Harve laughed, and jammed his cock in all the way. "Now that's what I call a nice, tight pussy. Just the way yours used to be, Bubs."
"Gggnnn," Irene answered, her eyes glazed as she came on Connie's wildly thrusting tongue.
"Let's let the bride see what a wedding night should really look like," Harvey said. "Besides, you've had your fun, Bubs."
Obediently Irene slid off Connie's face in a luxurious stupor, and then Connie did scream-a loud, piercing wail as she stared down to see Harvey completely inside her, his full twelve-plus inches of grotesque cockmeat jammed into her tight pussy. She screamed at the pain and the awful sight of Harvey's grinning face. Her screams became heaving pants as her tortured cunt-muscles grew used to his hugeness.
"Ah, beginning to like it, eh?" he laughed. "I knew you would, once we got through that cockteasing shit and down to business. Can Paul fill you up the way I can? Can he stick it in that beautiful little hole and do this?"
Then, to her complete horror, Harvey began to pull back on the bed, and fresh pain seared through her. "Oh, God!" she screamed in agony. "Oh, God, stop! You're killing me!"
Harvey just laughed again, pulling his fat body back with straining hands and knees, and Connie's entire body was pulled with him by the sheer brutal tug of his prick as though they were glued together. Her screams only made him tug harder, and small red bubbles of blood mingled with her cunt juice on the base of his massive cock.
Connie clutched at the sheets, screamed for Irene, Paul-anybody to stop the pain, but no one came to help her. "Oh, ohhh, God!" she shrieked.
Then Harve was standing at the foot of the bed, and Connie's tortured cunt hung obscenely from his gigantic cock. "Yeah, that's what it feels like, baby. Holler all you like, because once old Harve catches a fish with his big worm, he doesn't let go till he wants to. It's about time you got a taste of the cock you've been teasing, Missy."
He gave a small joggle, and Connie screamed again as her ass bobbed in the air, on the hook of his monstrous cock. "Oh ... oh, help me, help . . . ohhggg!"
"You sadistic bastard!" Irene spat as Connie's cried brought her back to reality.
Carried away by his newfound power over both women, Harvey crooked his finger at her. "Well, let's not forget you, love. Just step over here and join the party."
"Not a fat fucking chance, you filthy ..."
"Or would you rather that I talk to Paul? What do you think, Connie?"
"N-n-ohhh please noooo!" Connie gurgled, her little boobs heaving.
Wordless, her mouth set in a thin line, Irene went to Harvey, and he licked his lips.
"Now that that's settled, I want you to straddle Missy here and bend way over, so I can have both your yummy cunts rubbing together at my cock."
Irene did as he said, and Harvey pushed her over until her tits mashed against Connie's and her asshole winked up in his face while her black cunthairs entwined with Connie's blonde ones.
"Now isn't that pretty?" Harvey chuckled once again. "Two such- lovely pieces right smack together. It's too bad I've just got one cock. How about a finger for you, Bubs? Or a couple, even?" And even as he spoke, Harvey crammed two fingers into Irene's cunthole.
She moaned and jerked her body as they slipped in and out like a prick, quickly renewing her horniness. Connie lay lifeless beneath her, helplessly hung on Harvey's fat cock as he rammed his fingers in and out-first two, then three, then four of them-filling Irene totally. She writhed against them, sobbing with pleasure despite the situation.
"Ahh, you like that, huh?" Harvey said in a menacingly tender tone. "That's because old Harve slipped you some real meat, got you into prime fucking shape. But I've noticed a lot of your lip today, Bubs. Maybe you forgot how it felt to be in Connie's cunt right now. Maybe I can make you remember."
Then, without hesitating, he curled his fingers slowly, forcing them up into Irene until his entire fist was tearing between her spread pussylips, making her cry out. "Now, doesn't that bring back the memories?" Harvey chortled as he rammed his fist into her.
Now it was Irene's turn to scream. His fist was sunk wrist-deep into her cunt, and he began to pump. His other hand clutched Connie's stretched ass as he slowly started to ease his cock in and out of her cunt.
The two women heaved against each other in abandoned pain, their sweating bodies rubbing and straining to each other, their tits pressing hardened nipples together. Harvey's cock and fist pumped in rhythm and before long, sopping juices eased the pain. Connie and Irene began to groan with growing hunger.
Harvey jammed it to them, enjoying the way they pressed and surged in unison. He chuckled when Connie's arms flew up to hold Irene tight, and laughed out loud when both women dug their tongues down each other's throats as their bodies writhed wildly. Faster and faster he pumped away while Connie and Irene clutched and bit and fondled each other hungrily, and sweat mingled with drooling saliva as each woman got a fucking like she'd never had before. Harvey felt his load surging forward, and he plunged cock and fist into them with growing eagerness.
Irene sobbed, Connie screamed, and Harvey lunged forward, shooting load after load of hot jizz into the bride's aching cunt.
Sobbing, crying, heaving, twisting, all three came together in one drawn-out frenzy, and then fell, in a tumble of arms and legs and white cum to the bed.
"Oh, God," Irene moaned.
Hot fluid trickled down Connie's leg. Her ass twitched automatically in the throes of oblivion, even though Harvey's cock was no longer inside her.
He was panting with exertion. "Sheee-it, that was something else! I have to admit, that just about evens up the score. Just one more little duty to perform ..."
Slowly he rose from the bed, looked down at his dripping half-limp pecker, grinned and rolled Connie's unresisting body over onto her stomach. Then he propped her knees up, making her little asshole jut out, and began to rub his huge flabby cock against it.
"No, Harve," Irene croaked. Connie, barely comprehending what was happening, groaned, "Please ..."
"Just one more little thing I've been wanting," Harvey said, and he plunged his wet prick into her ass.
Connie moaned, too overwhelmed to cry out as his fat soft prick moved up into her asshole and began to slide in a fucking motion, making her hips grind to meet it. "Oh, please ..." she whimpered, suddenly tugged back to awareness as his cock began to grow.
"This is what I've really been wanting," panted Harvey. "Just to fuck the sweet little ass right off you, Missy. And now's my chance."
His cock grew, and it began to hurt. And it kept growing. Connie caught her breath; she sobbed; she cried out. Tears burned her eyes, and still the cock grew in her ass-chute.
Then she screamed.
"Don't, Harve," pleaded Irene, pulling at his arm.
Harvey shook her off. "You just wait for your turn, baby. You get it all the time. Let Missy have this one chance. If she liked it in that sweet cunt, she'll really love ..."
"What the fuck's going on here?"
All three of them turned at Paul's voice, and Harvey's half-rigid cock slid free.
Paul stared, his handsome young face turning white with rage. "Connie ..." he whispered as he stared at the three of them, all glistening with sweat and cum. Connie, her ass still propped up, watched him with tear-filled eyes as he took in their condition, his body quivering.
Then, with an effort of will, he forced his voice to calmness. "Harve, you and Irene had better go. This party's over."
Harve, his massive cock shriveled with sudden fear, started forward. "Listen, Paul, I . . ."
Completely beside himself, Paul was raising a fist when Irene hurried forward. "It's not really as bad as it looks, Paul. It's just that Harve and I stopped by to tell you that we'd decided to get married, and we had a few too many drinks in celebration."
"Married?" Paul said in a cold unbelieving voice, his hands still knotted into fists.
"Yeah . . . yeah, sure," Harvey agreed quickly, bobbing his head in fear. "We just . . . married . . . I . . . " He looked helplessly from Paul to Irene.
"That's right," Irene said. "Please, Paul, it was just such a total surprise to me when Harve asked, and then all those drinks ..."
"Uh . . . sure," he said, dismissing a wild impulse to take his beating instead.
"You'd better go." Paul heaved a breath, letting his fists drop.
"Sure, Paul, sure." Quickly they gathered their clothes and left, Irene darting Connie one last smile of satisfaction as she gripped Harvey's arm possessively.
Paul shut the door behind them, then turned to face his bride.
Connie couldn't stop the tears as she spoke quaveringly, "I . . . I'm so sorry. Oh, Paul, 1 didn't mean ..."
"You didn't mean ..." he said, coming to stand over her. "You didn't mean to get drunk and wind up in an orgy. I should've known that you'd take some kind of spiteful revenge because of Irene and me. I should've expected it."
Then he pulled back his hand and slapped her. Connie fell back on the bed with a gasp, more from surprise than pain.
"Bitch!" Paul yelled, his face contorted. "Slut! So this is what I married, the girl I respected. You had to pay me back, didn't you? You disgusting ..." Roughly he grabbed her arms and shook her.
Connie couldn't believe that he was treating her this way. For the first time since she'd met him, Paul was really mad!
"You liked it, didn't you? The three of you, rolling around like filthy animals, screwing ..."
"Yes!" Connie blurted as though in anger, purposely egging him on. "Just the way you liked rolling around with Irene! That was all right with you! If you didn't mind a little extracurricular fucking, why should I?"
"You lousy, dirty ..."
Paul shook the taunting smile right off her. The glazed awful expression in his face almost frightened Connie. Now she was getting the man she wanted, but what if she got too much?
"You think you can pull this shit on me?" he demanded wildly. "You think you can wave that little cunt around just because of Irene?"
Suddenly he pushed her back on the bed and reached for his pants. They dropped to the floor, and Paul's lovely cock was standing out stiff and hard and throbbing. It was so much smaller than Harvey's that it seemed like a child's, but it was the cock Connie loved, and pussy juice surged between her thighs at the sight of it.
"Baby, you've given away your last free piece, because I'm going to fuck some sense right into you!"
And with that, he roughly jerked her legs apart and slid straight between them, burying his cock right to the hilt!
Connie cried out at the unexpected fierce plunge of his cock into her soaked sore cunt, and she writhed in protest and pleasure as he gouged his prick into her hot little cunt, and pumped and twisted.
Paul planted his hands on her little tits, squeezing and pulling them painfully, smiling at her cries. He took them in his mouth and bit and sucked them until they were wet and bright pink, and the buds of her nipples poked up for his eager mouth as his prick rammed into her.
"You love it, don't you, baby?" he grunted, enjoying Connie's moans. "You like it when I was nice, but now you really love it, don't you?"
"Yesss," Connie hissed, then cried out as he twisted his cock painfully in her much-tortured twat: "Yes . . . oh, yes, you fucking bastard! Fuck me . . . screw me . . . oh, yesss!"
Laughing cruelly, Paul grabbed her thighs and then, with strong rippling muscles, began to raise himself, pulling Connie's ass up with him. He stood up on the bed, bouncing up and down and making the bed jounce her body up to jam her hurting, sopping cunt even harder on his throbbing cock. "You love it, don't you?"
"Yes, I love it!" Connie screamed as her poor overworked little cuntlips ground against the base of his prick.
Paul forced her legs back then farther and farther, just the way he had Irene's last night, until Connie's back was bent in a ball and her asshole winked high in the air. His cock surged into her, pressed by the weight of his body, and Connie shrieked.
Dimly she heard her own voice: "Oh, fuck me . . . fuck me, Paul! It's you I love! Fuck me hard . . . oh . . . ohhh!"
Her expression was glazed, and climax after climax made her precious cunt-cream gush over Paul's balls. He rammed and twisted, gyrating his cock inside her. What Harvey had in pure size, Paul more than made up for with style. His beautiful seven-inch cock pumped out Connie's cuntjuice until she could no longer stand it and was writhing in pure abandon, making little animal noises in her throat.
Then Paul came in huge long spurts, his face wrenched as his cock spat load after load of jism deep in the pit of her cunt, draining him completely. He twisted, gasped out a long drawn moan and collapsed on Connie's worn-out body in a breathless heap.
The newlyweds lay together, hugging and kissing and stroking each other tenderly in the aftermath of their fuck. Paul was smiling gently as his fingers drifted across Connie's weary, filled body.
"You're mine, baby, all of you. Just remember that."
Connie smiled. "That works both ways, darling. Just see that you remember, too!"
The grin on Paul's face told her that he would.
But the fresh memory of Harvey and Irene made her giggle and think: Still, it wouldn't hurt if I reminded him just once in a while . . .
