With a look at his watch to see how much time they had, Jack followed Suzie into her dormitory's darkened social room. Even though he and Suzie had passed their most intimate moments here, he hated this social room, this "passion pit" where only quasi-intimacy was possible, and then only if you managed to blot from sight and mind the shadowy forms of other couples and their cries of frustration. It was not unknown for a couple to make it together in the social room, but Mrs. Grundy, the housemother, frequently crept into the room to flick on the lights, and most couples tried to find more private and suitable places for the consummation of their lustful young love.
When Jack's eyes adjusted to the room he found a vacant armchair in a corner and led Suzie to it. She sat crossways on his lap and placed her arm on his shoulder. They sat still and in silence for a moment before she asked, "Hey, what's the matter?"
"Nothing," he said. "It's not you, I mean. It's just that we never have any place to go to be alone together."
"I know," she said, frowning and pursing her full lips as she caressed his neck with the backs of her fingers.
Jack was confident that he would have made it with her by now if he had a place off-campus. They'd been seeing each other for three weeks and had grooved from the start. Freshmen were required to live in the dorms and that's why Suzie lived there. Most students found housing off-campus at the beginning of their sophomore years. Jack had done that, but he had been arrested in the spring sitting-in at the Army Induction Center he'd been arrested and bailed out twice in two days, and his parents had raised a storm, telling him that they wouldn't pay for another year at the university unless he lived on campus in the dorms and stayed out of trouble. It was unreasonable of them. They seemed to think that he'd be less of a political activist if he lived in the dorm; it was, quite simply, a false assumption. He tried doggedly to point out that the dorm was a miserable place to live and that freshmen were as political as anyone else, but they stood firm ... not a penny from them unless he complied. He complied. As a general rule, he hated unreasonable people. While he did not hate his parents, he did not write home.
Men and women were allowed in each other's dormitory rooms for two hours on Sunday afternoons, when all doors had to be left wide open. As a result, Jack's sex life had not been entirely adequate. First semester he had concentrated on chicks who lived off-campus, and made out all right, but here freshmen girls were all around him, easy to get to know during meals in the dining hall, most of them asking for it, and some of them damn fine women. One night he'd borrowed a friend's car and had driven Mary O'Gary up into the hills where she'd been wild and eager and had gotten just what she wanted. His friend had driven her up into the hills the next night and, believing Jack's accurate and detailed descriptions, in his impatience had driven in a straight line while the road curved, cracking up his car on an old oak; there were no injuries and the back seat was intact, but what's a back seat without wheels? Now Jack had met Suzie and, damn it all, he really dug her. Even if she was cherry. The indications were that she would have an active life ahead of her.
She lifted Jack's hand from her knee and pressed it to her breast, holding it tightly against herself as she nibbled at his earlobe, wondering what was wrong with him tonight. Jack tried to blot out the sighs and moans in the room, and the harsh grunt of a fellow from the couch. It's dehumanizing, Jack thought, to have to do it hurriedly in dark corners like small animals, to have it be incomplete and leave you all hollow inside. But the fragrance of Suzie's hair and the yielding firmness of her pert young breast quickened his heartbeat.
When his limply acquiescent hand came to life and began to massage her full breasts through her sweater, Suzie let go of it and lifted the hem of the sweater, wanting to feel his hands on her bare skin. He cupped her breast and rapidly but lightly rubbed its sensitive point with his fingertip. They both held their breath as her nipple stiffened and swelled with blood. "Oh, Jack, that feels so good," she whispered, softly and breathlessly.
"Arrghh!I'm cumming!" said the guy on the couch, cutting in with his hoarse whisper.
They had but twenty minutes remaining to them before lock-out. Jack knew that there was no point working themselves into painful frustration. He did not need to acquaint himself with her lithe body--it was already too much on his mind and he was acutely aware of its rich promise. With his hands and mouth he had touched as much of her as it was possible for a man to touch of a woman, almost. That eleventh finger, that
third leg would touch her in a way nothing else could. He knew how excited she could become just by having her breasts kissed. He knew how easily the slit between her legs became slippery with inundations of cuntal fluid. He had made her gasp and writhe, her body on the brink of collapse. "Oh, we can't. Dammit. We can't," someone moaned from across the room.
Suzie arched her back and lifted her sweater up to her collarbone, when Jack lowered his head to seize one of her puckered rosebud nipples between his lips, burying his face in her as he began to suck. She spread her legs as he began to work his hand up the insides of her thighs, clasping and kneading her flesh, not stopping until he felt the sopping wetness of her underpants. He pulled her panties' flimsy crotch aside and cupped her mound in his palm, his fingertips pressing the soft globes of her girlish buttocks. He teased her cuntlips and clitoris for a moment before sliding a finger slowly into her hot sticky depths.
Sitting on his hand, impaled on his middle finger, she gasped almost inaudibly and began rocking her hips. It had taken him a week to get to this point where he could slide one finger into her with ease. When he began, her hymen, fragile membrane though it was, so blocked the entrance to her vagina that its perforation would admit only the tip of his little finger. Her virginal membrane had stretched, though, and he was sure that it wouldn't hurt her for more than a moment when the opportunity came to break her in and it was inevitably ruptured in the process.
"You love me, don't you?" he asked, whispering in her ear.
"Why, of course, Jack," she said, drawing back to look at him, wondering what expression he had on his face.
"I was thinking," he said. "I know people who have places off-campus. I'll see if I can borrow someone's apartment for tomorrow afternoon. That'll give us a chance to make love properly." "Oh."
"Would you like that?"
"Yes," she said, simply and honestly.
Jack knew that they'd most likely make love the first time they were alone together, but he wanted her to decide to do it and to have time to think about it. He thought it would matter more to her that way.
From the way she looked at him with that thoughtful look on her face, Jack thought maybe she'd forgotten something he wasn't quite ready to allow her to forget. Whatever her thoughts, they were promptly shattered and she threw her arms around his neck when he madly wiggled his finger, creating slippery friction on the sensitive walls of her virginal vagina.
From where he sat, Jack was fortunate enough to see a shadowy form creep into the darkness of the social room and reach silently to the light switch. When light suddenly flooded the room and Mrs. Grundy looked around expectantly, Suzie's clothes were properly in place and she chastely held Jack's hand. Others, less lucky, were caught unaware. On a couch across the room, Jack's friend Phil withdrew his hand from Mary O'Gary as if he'd been burned by the sudden access of light, leaving the girl breathless and blinking her eyes, slouched with her legs splayed to expose the rubied gash of her twat to anyone who cared to look at it. Mrs. Grundy's eyes settled on Mary before the hapless girl collected herself enough to clamp her knees together and pull down her skirt. With Mrs. Grundy's attention captured, a girl in another chair shifted her weight to allow her boyfriend to zip up his pants.
"All right, Miss," said Mrs. Grundy, fastening her beady eyes on poor Mary and pointing at her, "I know you. I know who you are. I've seen you in here before. Now tell me your name. I'll get it anyway."
"Tricia Appleseed," said Mary, without a moment's hesitation.
"Fornicating in public! You'll be expelled for this!"
"Bullshit," said Mary.
"Why, I never ... I never..." sputtered Mrs. Grundy.
"You wouldn't recognize fornication if you found it under the Christmas tree," said the game girl.
This drew a surprised chuckle from some of Mary's dozen or so fellow students in the room; none of whom had ever dared talk back to Mrs. Grundy.
Mrs. Grundy collected herself and said, "It will be of no avail to you to sass me, Miss Apple-seed. People have been expelled for less."
"Less than what?" asked Mary, doing little to disguise her contempt.
"I saw it! I saw it all!" screeched Mrs. Grundy.
"Come on now. I was just sitting here enjoying the breeze," said Mary.
"You were not! No one could believe that. There's no breeze in this room," said Mrs. Grundy, licking the tip of her forefinger and holding it up to check for a breeze.
"The minute you came in here and started blowing farts, there was a breeze," said Mary, turning from the stunned woman to say to Phil, "Let's get out of here."
"You're not going anywhere," said the spry old lady, jumping forward to catch Mary's wrist tightly in her claw. "The rest of you will leave at once. This young lady has to face the music."
"The music of your farting?" asked someone, an unidentifiable male voice.
"Who said that? Who said that?" demanded Mrs. Grundy, looking madly about the room, yet continuing to maintain a firm grip on Mary, who twisted her arm in an attempt to break the old lady's surprisingly strong
grip.
"Haven't we had enough of this shit?" yelled Jack.
"No kidding!"
"Tyrannical old bore." "Let's liberate the dorm!" yelled Jack. "Open up the dorms!" someone else cried. "Free Tricia Appleseed!"
"Free Tricia! Free Tricia!" others chanted, serious, yet having fun as they crowded around Mary and Mrs. Grundy.
Mrs. Grundy's mouth fell open and she let go of Mary. "I'll call the campus police," she menaced as she gathered up her skirts and turned to dash out of the room.
She didn't have a chance. Someone grabbed her arms from behind and held her wrists together while someone else tied them with the end of the pull-cord from the drapes.
"You'll all go to the gas chamber!" she said and then opened her mouth wide to scream. The scream never left her throat, because someone deftly stuffed a wad of Kleenex into her wide-open mouth.
"We need a nylon stocking."
No one wore any, but a girl took off her pantyhose and these were pulled over Mrs. Grundy's head, distorting her wrinkled features and preventing her from spitting out the gag of Kleenex. Jack thought to remove the keys from the pocket of her smock before someone else wrapped the drapes around her and shut a fold of the cloth in the window to prevent the old lady from moving around. Anyone looking into the room would never guess that there was someone behind the curtain, bound and muffled. Just before shutting and locking the social-room door, Jack, speaking to no one in particular, said, "You! Ichabod Crane. Stay here and guard her. If she tries to scream, cut her throat with this knife. Cut off her head if you have to."
"Sure thing," said Phil, creeping out past Jack.
There were six floors in the dorm, each with thirty or so rooms, and the half-dozen couples took the elevators up and dispersed--each guy disappearing into his girl's room--confident that even if Mrs. Grundy were found soon, there would be no general search of the dorm.
The dorm had been liberated, but no signs to that effect were posted and no television stations notified--no one knew about it. A few girls came in late and were surprised to find the front door unlocked with no Mrs. Grundy in sight, but they merely counted their blessings and light-footed it into the elevator. And toward dawn, half a dozen male students might have been seen stealing out of the building.
Mrs. Grundy was discovered the next morning by the cleaning woman, who untied the incoherently babbling old lady and, as the old gal kept croaking, "Police! Police!" the cleaning lady called them. The young officer who answered the call some thirty minutes later didn't know what to make of the haggard woman. She alternately muttered and screamed, "Tricia Appleseed! She's the wanton fornicator! And Ichabod Crane! He was going to cut off my head!" The young officer thought he had a drunk on his hands and called for a matron to take her down to the station house to sleep it off.
It might have ended there, or soon thereafter, with the silly old lady spending a night in jail, or, if she persisted in yelling about Ichabod Crane cutting off her head, it might have ended with an impatient judge committing her to an asylum But while Mrs. Grundy and the officer awaited the matron, the cleaning lady
came back in and was asked, "You know anything about her?"
"No sir! I mean, yes sir! All I know is I found her all tied up behind that there curtain. I don't know how she got herself that way."
"Tied up?" the officer asked, incredulous.
"Yes. They attacked me last night," piped Mrs. Grundy.
Mrs. Grundy was given a cup of coffee. The dean was called. The campus police were called.
When he'd heard himself say, "Let's liberate the dorm!" and witnessed the other students' reactions, Jack knew they had a reprieve, however short-lived, from the restrictive tight-ass system. He was determined to put Mrs. Grundy out of his mind and make the best of the unexpected period of grace.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Suzie whispered as they stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor.
"Yeah. She deserves it, anyway. Sneaky old bat."
"I know."
"She tried to humiliate one girl too many, and it finally caught up with her."
"I know. I was afraid for Mary," said Suzie, feeling a sudden tremor pass through her as they approached the door of her room, putting the recent event in the social room out of her mind as she realized what was soon going to happen. This boy she felt for, whose firm manner sometimes turned her insides to jelly, this boy who sent her upstairs alone at night to cry out his name in her sleep had come up with her tonight! And he wasn't a boy at all--he knew what was what and he could make things happen--he was a man! He was beside her and his presence made her aware of the yielding swooning nature of her own femaleness. Her knees almost buckled when she silently opened the door to her room. She bit her lip and steadied herself against the dresser. She couldn't let herself turn to jelly now, she wanted to remember this. Jack stood frowning as he looked at the sleeping form of her roommate Janice, whose mouth was slightly open, her hair spread out on the pillow.
"Don't worry about her. She's a sound sleeper," she said, putting her hands on her shoulders and looking up into his eyes, smiling in anticipation of what was to come.
"Do you have a candle or something?" he asked. "I want to be able to see your naked body."
There was a candle on top of the dresser and after lighting it she started to set it on the floor, but Jack took it from her hand to hold it himself, the better to illuminate her nakedness as she undressed. She lifted her sweater by the hem and raised her arms to pull it off over her head, taking care to ease her hair through, causing her breasts to jut magnificently, pert and full, thrusting toward him and quivering in the flickering candlelight. The rich red-pink of her already stiffening nipples surprised him--not that he'd never seen a nipple of that hue, but he hadn't known hers were. After stepping out of her skirt, she paused hesitantly, but he told her to take off her panties and she did, hooking her thumbs into the elastic to pull them over her hips and step out of them. Her muff was the same blonde honey color as her hair and her slit glistened deeply.
"Turn around," he said, his voice strangely hoarse to his own ears.
She took several turns, holding her hair in a bunch behind her neck with both hands. She stood with her back to him, flexing one girlish rounded buttock and then the other. Then she gave him a profile view, stretching and arching her back so that her breasts thrust into the air; and she moved around for a few moments like a fashion model, pointing a knee in this direction or that and twisting her torso. Pleased with herself and smiling, she bent to whisper, "Well, how do you like me?"
"You've got the most gorgeous body I've ever seen," he said, handing her the candle and standing up to take off his own clothes.
She sat on the edge of the bed to watch him as he ripped at buttons to tear off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and hopped around on one leg in his hasty effort to get his pants off. When he pulled down his undershorts, she gasped at the sight of his penis, sticking out frighteningly stiff and straight from the thick curly mat of his pubis, his huge sperm-filled testicles dangling below. She didn't know how she'd ever take its breadth and length into her--she knew she wasn't that big down there. A chill went down her spine and she felt her already damp pussy emit more fluid, further lubricating itself.
It was a handsome organ, though, with its velvety red head and its sensitive-looking blue veins. When he came closer to the bed, she bent forward to get a better look at it, clasping it with one hand, which she was barely able to get around it. Inspecting it closely, twisting it this way and that, she kissed its tip, spontaneously
and naturally. Interested at the way its soft velvety skin seemed to cling to her lips, she nibbled at it and touched the tip of its glans with her tongue.
Jack saw stars and gave an involuntary little thrust with his hips. Suzie opened her mouth to admit it, thrilled as its pulsing length slid over her tongue, and its throbbing glans filled the back of her mouth. Without thinking about it, she shut her eyes, tightened her lips into a firm circle and sucked vigorously for a few minutes before she suddenly drew back and looked up at him, her eyes frightened, to ask, "Does that feel good? Do you like it?"
"Oh, wow!" he said, his voice nigh-reverent. At a loss for words, he said it over and over, "Oh, wow! Oh, wow!"
Thrilled that he liked it too, that he liked what she was doing to him, she grasped his buttocks with both hands and opened her mouth wide to clamp onto his throbbing erect cock, applying herself to it with renewed vigor and a singular intensity. She concentrated on relaxing the back of her mouth to enable herself to draw more of it in, wanting all of it and taking more and more until her nose was buried in his sweet-smelling pubic mat. She worked her mouth and tongue feverishly, gagging on joy as she stroked his firm buttocks and reached around him to pet his balls from behind, pressing her tits into his muscular hairy thighs.
"Agghhh!" groaned Jack as he felt the first pent-up spasm coming on. He'd had a moment's hesitation about letting her bring him off this way, since he was eager to fuck her, but he wanted her first to be a good one and he knew that the second time around he'd have enough control to insure making it so. With the first spurt, Suzie opened her eyes wide in surprise and began gulping greedily, her throat working overtime to swallow the pent-up load of cum as she licked the underside of Jack's twitching cock like a madwoman, while spasms wracked his spine and her tits jiggled along with his tremblingly flexed thigh muscles.
Saying, "Baby, you're wonderful," he eased his sore dwindling cock out of her mouth. A thread of semen connected her lips and his cock in a thin line. When it broke, she licked her lips to get it and then smacked her lips and swallowed a few times.
"My, that was good," she said. "I enjoyed it."
"You're one student with a real high aptitude," he said.
She laughed and when he pushed her gently back onto the bed she scooted into the middle of it, leaving on the edge a round damp spot where, in her excitement, she had lubricated liberally. On the floor were drops of tallow; in the height of his excitement Jack had been unmindful of the candle and almost dropped it.
"Let me get a good look at your pussy," he said.
She blushed as she let her knees, which had been slightly raised, flop apart to reveal in the center of her fluffy blonde diadem the hot pink crinkle of her quim. "Wider."
Blushing crazily, she spread her legs to their utmost, the tendons in her thighs standing out as her hairy outer folds were pulled tight and her inner lips parted. Her delicate tiny point of a clitoris stood out visibly. "Okay now," he said. "Double up and hold your legs tightly against your chest."
She felt herself blushing, but didn't know why this embarrassed her. Here for the first time in her life she had found someone she wanted to make love with and she was happy about it, especially when she remembered the struggles she'd had in cars with her high school boyfriends, boys who didn't quite know what they were doing and sometimes didn't even know what to do after they'd gotten their hands into her pants. She guessed it was Jack's seeming cold-bloodedness that suddenly embarrassed her; he'd seemed so happy and so involved when she'd first taken off her clothes. Now she felt like meat on a meat rack. She cringed inside and felt herself tingle down there. While she was familiar with what that peculiar intimate tingle meant, she had never tingled so damn uncontrollably and so damn nakedly!
After watching the telltale droplets of lacteous fluid seep from her cunt for a few moments Jack turned briefly from the glistening delicacy and, just below it and just as exposed, the pink-brown ring of her anus. He set the candle in the melted tallow on the floor and held it until it stayed upright, watching the regularly breathing girl on the bed opposite them. She had tossed to the side and kicked one leg free of her covers.
Suzie felt herself being lifted. Jack lifted her by the hips and held her, her knees going almost to the mattress on either side of her neck as he supported the base of her back in his hands, kneeling on all fours before her quim. When she felt Jack's hot wet mouth on her, when he opened his mouth wide and seized her,
engulfing her as he caught her labia in a long sucking bite, Suzie thought she would faint. His whole mouth oscillating, he tongued her clitoris before probing her vagina with the breadth of his tongue, slithering easily past her carefully stretched hymen until his tongue tip rippled the ridges of her vagina.
"Ahhhhh!" she moaned. She was too short of breath to think clearly, but she nevertheless made a discovery about sex then; she realized that her cunt had a life of its own. Her arms and legs were doubled up between her (her head, her mind) and her cunt--it was as if she was separated from it yet given the proper stimulus that hairy little organ between her legs was capable of taking over her entire being and dominating it. It was as if she was a fruit, a plump ripe fig, and Jack worked feverishly to suck the pulp right out of her. She had never been more completely, more sensually alive, more thoroughly charged with delicious swooning tension.
"Ah Christ, Jack," she cried. "Do it to me now'."
Jack's cock had begun to revive the moment he began eating her and, as her scent rose to permeate him, his entire consciousness focused on this pliantly yielding yet throbbing burst of sweetness and his cock continued to grow. Now, he could have sworn that it had never been harder or bigger or ached more.
"Say, 'Fuck me'," he whispered, his voice sweet.
"Please fuck me!" she cried.
Dropping her for a moment, but only to catch her ankles and throw them onto his shoulders, he centered himself on her. Her delicate labes stretched and parted as the broad head of his cock slid past. His cock gave an involuntary twitch when, its tip just inside her, the membrane of her hymen stretched into a tight ring. There was a moment of quiet, of stillness, of suspense even, before he gave a slow steady lunge. They both heard the membrane pop. Hitting their ears as a quiet far-off noise, that was the last thought either of them ever gave to her hymen, because the momentum of his lunge carried him a few inches into her tight slick vagina, burying the velvet knob of his glans in her.
She moaned and, using her ankles for leverage, rotated her hips, swiveling her tight socket on the head of his cock. She continued to swivel as he slowly dropped the weight of his hips, his broad cock slowly widening her unused channel, reaming it out until she gasped and thought she'd been split in two.
"Did that hurt?" he whispered.
She was too out of breath to answer him. The pupils of her eyes rolled back under her half-closed lids. Then, taking a deep breath, she began to swivel her pussy on this shaft that penetrated her insanely, reaching to her core and making every fiber tingle.
.But a third pair of ears had heard that innocuous, quietly anticlimactic popping of a cherry. Those ears heard without recognizing it or knowing what it was. A sleeping brain had been disturbed by an animal cry--by the throaty guttural cry of "please fuck me!" without identifying it. The dream fluttering about within that sleeping brain had stopped, had been replaced by a question ... what was that cry? At the moment Suzie's hymen was ruptured, her roommate Janet's eyes popped open.
Janet's eyes focused on the naked copulating couple and at first she didn't know what they were doing ... Indian wrestling or a bear hug. Then she saw, thrusting out from his curls, Jack's huge cock, the tip of which was buried in Suzie. She thought, my God, he's killing her with that thing. When it was buried out of sight in the very center of Suzie and the poor girl showed no sign of life, Janet thought she was dead and began to fear for her own life, began to picture her own death by the same grisly means. Then Suzie began to rotate her hips and moan and very quickly Janet figured out what they were doing. It was something she'd never done and never seen done, but she knew they must be fucking.
Janet's eyes bulged when Jack pulled his shaft almost all the way out of Suzie and she could see that the base of the monstrous thing was red with blood. For a fleeting instant the naive girl guessed that it must be all over and she quickly shut her eyes, but the couple continued to gasp and moan, and she opened them again.
She saw Jack thrusting in and out of Suzie, ravaging the hole between her legs, moving slowly at first, Suzie's cunt lining clinging to him as if he was going to pull her insides out. He lunged more and more rapidly until his hips became a blur and Suzie's quivered. Janet thought of some dogs she had once seen doing ita
male dog moving his hindquarters at the same rate of speed. Both their bodies glistened with sweat in the flickering candlelight. Without realizing it, Janet slid her hand between her legs and began diddling her clitoris. In spite of the buzzing in her ears, she realized that the loud slapping sound echoing in the room was Jack's balls slapping Suzie's anus.
Suzie bit her lower lip as she felt a muscle deep in her pussy begin to contract. At first she didn't know quite what was happening; it was as if a muscle in her battered womb had begun to rebel, to clutch at Jack's cock. And then she felt every muscle, every fiber in her cunt go stiff in one big contraction and grasp Jack's shaft. She tasted blood from her lips and her nipples felt so stiff and swollen she thought they'd pop. One moment she writhed madly to try to get away from that cock, like a fish fighting the hook or the gaff, and the next moment the full length of Jack's cock began to twitch within her, began to quake with earthshaking power and her hands went to his buttocks, wanting every inch of that cock. She dug all ten fingernails into his ass. She felt herself beginning to explode as first her cunt muscles and then her entire nervous system went haywire.
"Ah ... ah ... aiiiieeeeee!" she screamed as she felt the first hot spurt of Jack's cum burn into her. "I'm cummming," she cried, realizing that's what was happening to her. And it kept happening and Jack's churning cock kept spewing fire. Her tongue dropped into the back of her throat and she made loud sucking noises as she gasped.
"Arrgggh! Arrgggh!" Jack gurgled as spasms spread from his cock and balls up his spine and he began to whip his body, almost pulling her legs from their sockets as his chest smacked her tits. He lay limp on her for a few moments, both of them drenched with sweat, before he roused himself enough to say, "Christ, Suzie, you're the hottest, most magnificent goddamn piece of ass in Christendom."
Suzie smiled and was formulating in her mind how to say that she thought he was pretty goddamn wonderful, too, when she looked up and saw Janet staring at them, all bug-eyed. "Janet!" she said. "You're watching!"
Janet realized that she was not only watching, wide-eyed and unabashed, but that even after they climaxed she had continued to run her finger frantically up and down her own hot slit. With her other hand she had for some time been playing with her breasts, passing it rapidly from one to the other, squeezing them and flicking her nipples. Ashamed, her hands froze.
"Yes, I saw it," she said, giving her head a sullen toss, her voice strained and ringing hollow. "I saw it all and I'm going to report you, too!"
Suzie was flabbergasted. Would her friend do this to her? Suddenly remembering the state of Mrs. Grundy down in the social room, Suzie realized that she doubly needed her friend's silence.
Jack had eased his dwindling prick out of her and with one hop Suzie was off the bed and sitting on the edge of Janet's. "You wouldn't actually do that to me!" she said, genuinely bewildered. "They'd hustle me out of this place if you did that."
"I don't care," she said. "It's not right!"
Realizing that they had a serious problem and thinking he might be able to lend support, Jack moved quietly to Janet's bed, sitting on the edge near the foot of it.
"You can't say that," Suzie said. "How can you say it's not right?" "It just isn't, that's all."
"Why, don't be silly. It's the most natural thing in the world; there couldn't be anything more right about
it."
"Of course, you'd say that!"
"Well, so does everyone else. Everyone has sex sooner or later." "Yeah, and most people wait 'til later, when it won't get them in trouble." "I don't know."
"Well, I do!"
"Well, this shouldn't get us in trouble. It's not my fault they have a silly rule about doing it in the dorm."
"They have that silly rule so you won't scare other people half to death in the middle of the night."
"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to scare you," Suzie said, both meaning it and wanting to giggle.
"You didn't really scare me. It's just not fair to've made me watch it," said the perturbed girl, her lips
quivering.
Suzie just then realized how truly upset Janet was; she'd thought her roommate was just being contrary. She leaned over the supine girl and stroked her cheek, saying, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know it would upset you. If they didn't have such silly rules, we could take turns using the room in the afternoons--that way we wouldn't have to disturb each other. We could take turns using it."
"Yeah. Sure. That's a fine thing for you to say. You'd end up using it all the time. You have big boobs and you know boys go for that!" she said, spitting the words out bitterly and then fighting back tears, her forehead and lips quivering as she turned her face away.
Suzie realized that words and rational arguments would do nothing to help the situation. Janet was simply too upset to listen. Wanting to console her, Suzie leaned across the girl, her weight on her elbow on the other side of her. Janet refused to look at her, keeping her eyes closed as she fought to control her face. Suzie caressed not only the girl's cheeks but also her neck and, slipping her hand into the top of her pajamas, her shoulders, all the while crooning, her voice a whisper, "Come on, Janet. You're a shy person and don't seem to meet many boys, but you'll get over it. You have a nice body and you don't have to worry. I love you."
Noticing that this was having a calming effect on the girl, Suzie kept it up, realizing that it might be the only means she had of staving off trouble. Crooning, "You're sweet, Janet, and I love you. We love you," Suzie undid the top button to the girl's pajamas and caressed the beginning swell of her breast and worked her slowly massaging fingers to the girl's rib cage, partially cupping her breast as she caressed the side of it. "You have nice breasts. You'll never have anything to worry about."
"Not as nice as yours," Janet said, her eyes popping open, her voice huskily filled with self-consciousness and embarrassment as she focused her eyes on Suzie's breasts, which jutted out handsomely right in front of her face. The two girls, both intense, looked into each other's eyes for a moment as if in question, their eyes searching each other's faces as if to read the depth of the soul. It was a question Suzie answered by cupping Janet's soft handful of breast and gently squeezing, then tracing tight light circles around her swollen erect nipples.
"Ohh!" Janet gasped, and both her hands flew to Suzie's breasts, which she wildly began to fondle and squeeze and bobble as if there was so much tit in front of her that she didn't know what to do with it. Her lips formed an "O" as she lifted her head a few inches; Suzie obligingly lowered her breast to her, aiming her elongated nipple for the center of the "O" which clamped onto it and began to suckle. The feverishly working lips and tongue sent an unexpected thrill straight to Suzie's cunt.
Suzie moved from across Janet, shifting her weight to her other elbow to have freer access to her body; Janet's head swiveled to the side as she maintained her bite on Suzie's tit. "You've got marvelous boobs," Suzie crooned, unbuttoning the girl's pajama tops to run her hand freely over both of the suckling girl's handsome if smallish tits, which were unbelievably pliant and had finely puckered coral areolas.
Jack thought they were a fine pair of tits, too, and didn't know what had upset the girl. At first he hadn't realized that the girls were fondling each other's tits, and when he did he thought, "oh God!" and his cock began to grow. This was something he'd never seen.
Suzie looked back at Jack and smiled, motioning for him to throw Janet's covers back the rest of the way. Janet wore no pajama bottoms and not even any panties. She lay with her legs parted and when Jack gave the covers a toss the first thing he saw was that Janet's pussy was so sopping wet and aroused that her cunt hairs were stuck down on either side of it. His cock sprang achingly to life with the suddenness one might expect of finely made German steel. His hand shot to her pussy and became enmeshed in the dank mess of seepage and hair and folds of skin. When he centered his finger amidst the folds, she spread her legs wide and began rocking back and forth on the generous globes of her ass, seesawing her pussy on his fingers. After probing vainly into her center each time she rocked her pussy up, he realized that her hymen had little flex, that it was thicker and tougher than Suzie's.
His fingers busily strumming her sopping quim, he moved up beside her, lying on the opposite side of her from Suzie. Suzie, with a knowing smile on her face, squeezed Janet's tit and jiggled it in Jack's face, flicking the nipple tantalizingly. Wiggling the puckered nipple about in front of Jack's nose, Suzie said, "Tell her what you think of her boobs, Jack. Tell her if you like them or not."
"Christ," he said, genuinely touched, "they're fantastic boobs. Beautiful, sexy boobs. I could suck it until it
turns blue."
"Yes! Yes!" Janet cried, "Suck my boobs." And so saying, while she continued to suckle one of Suzie's fine teats and squeeze the other, Janet arched her back to thrust her tit at Jack who seized its pointed tip and slowly sucked her soft pliancy into his mouth until he had engulfed half of it. He flicked her throbbing nipple against his palate. Janet began to moan through her nose and she pumped her hips faster.
Suzie rolled over on top of Janet and, as Jack drew back, she doubled up her legs and spread them wide to lower her pussy onto Janet's tummy. She began humping her body, rubbing her pussy on Janet as she continued to feed her tits into the slobbering girl's mouth. Jack took his own place at the tail end of the menage, between Janet's widespread legs. Looking down between Suzie's cleaved and quivering buttocks, Jack saw her anus and the trail of lubricant her pussy smeared up and down the other girl's belly.
Without further ado, Jack centered himself and lunged at his second hymen of the night. But he lunged to no avail, his cock slipping into Janet's crack. The girl planted her feet in order to cant her pussy for Jack, giving him a better angle which he needed since, atop both girls, he was somewhat higher above the target than is normal.
He and Janet both strained, pressing fiercely at each other until the membrane ruptured--its "pop" was far louder than Suzie's had been and Janet squealed, emitting one long shriek like a stuck pig. Jack didn't try to wedge any further in for a moment, but he didn't withdraw either, fearing she'd bleed all over. All three of them were still until he asked, "Does it still hurt?"
"Not any more," she said, taking a deep breath, "but don't do it to me very hard at first."
In unison, the three of them began moving again. Suzie hunched back and forth, with one hand rubbing her tit which wasn't being sucked all around on Janet's face. Janet and Jack both made many tiny mutual lunges with their hips until his thick cock had reamed out her pussy and was buried in it, when, little by little, they began to thrust at each other. Jack felt something warm and sticky on his balls each time they came into contact with her ass and realized that it was blood. She began to rotate her hips faster and faster, showing her ravaged and impaled pussy no mercy in her growing lust, and soon Jack's hairy balls were slapping her anus with loud smacks.
Muttering to no one in particular, Suzie said, "Christ, I'm hot tonight," and began to moan like someone in agony, wiggling her aching pelvis in maddened frenzy. She reared up and the unexpectedness of her movement almost threw Jack from the saddle. She clambered forward on all fours; Jack thought she was going to scoot right off the end of the bed, but she stopped and, spreading her pussy by the hairs, lowered herself onto Janet's mouth. Jack saw Janet's mouth open and her tongue snake out to receive Suzie's quim, which she began sucking noisily, her chin grinding into Suzie's anus. Obviously preoccupied, the movement of her hips slowed--to Jack's momentary consternation.
But his cock twitched involuntarily and he almost came on the spot when Suzie began grinding her pussy into Janet's open mouth, saying, "Ah, ah, ah ... I'm cumming!" Suzie ground her hips back and forth, bearing down, her quivering buttocks parted by Janet's rapidly working chin, whipping her torso from side to side. Jack could see the side of one tit, then the other as they swung back and forth as her whole body quivered in those moments before the groaning girl collapsed, falling to the side, breathlessly.
Jack had pulled his cock out of Janet for fear that the sight of Suzie's being sucked off would make him cum too, before Janet was ready. But when he nudged the tip of his cock into her again she started bucking,
saying, "Yes! Do it! Do it!"
"Say please and tell me what it is you want," he said. "Oh, please do it!" she whimpered.
"You have to call it by its right name," Jack said heartlessly, perhaps. "Please fuck me!" she cried, pulling at his buttocks, "Fuck me!" "Thank Suzie," he said.
"Thank you," she said, using her grip on his buttocks to try to worm herself onto his cock. Holding her steady by her shoulders, Jack thrust full into her with a suddenness that made her yelp just before he covered her mouth with his, probing with his tongue, delighted with the taste and smell of Suzie. Continuing to hold her steady with one hand, with his other Jack grabbed her tit and his fingers dug in as he squeezed and twisted, fucking her hard and kissing her hard, wanting her to cum now!
Janet reared her pelvis up and held her breath, sucking feverishly on Jack's tongue as she felt the flood of sensation come over her, an overwhelming alien flood, its tide sweeping from her cunt clear up to her throat. She wrenched her mouth free, took a deep breath, and shrieked, "Aiiiiieeeee!" She felt him spurt his hot load into her, spurt upon unending spurt, his cock twitching to tear her pussy from her as her legs went haywire and thrashed and kicked blindly, her wide-open eyes dazed and sightless as she went, "Aiiiiieeeee! Aiiiiieeeee!" finally gripping his hips hard with her thighs to keep him from shaking her into little pieces. When he collapsed on her with a grunt, with one very spent grunt, her body went totally limp and her mind melted. But her pussy gripped him even as he withdrew his limpening cock, her tight vaginal sphincter drawing his last drop of semen.
Her buttocks and upper thighs, not to mention the bed, were covered with dried blood, but there was no remainder of it on her quim itself, her fluid having rinsed it away. And Jack looked down at her and himself, totally aghast--where he'd had only a faint trace of blood around the base of his cock after taking Suzie, his whole pelvic region was covered with dried blood now, including his thighs, and it matted his pubic hair. Suzie looked at them both in amazement.
When Janet's breathing had returned to normal and she was able to focus her eyes again, Jack murmured, "You're very good. You're great."
Janet looked at him, frowning, and her eyes began to dart back and forth between him and Suzie.
"Oh," said Suzie after a moment, "I forgot to ask if you two had met. Janet, Jack. Jack, Janet."
Both Suzie and Jack burst into laughter. After a moment, Janet joined them; she couldn't help it, for it did sound silly.
"I told you she was shy," said Suzie.
CHAPTER TWO
"Do you think they'll riot again today?" Kathy asked her husband, who sat across from her at the breakfast table, gulping his coffee as he read the morning paper's none-too accurate account of the previous day's riot. "I think we can count on it," Tom said, his voice full of matter-of-fact resignation. "How much longer do you think they'll go on this time?" "Until I back down or they get bored with it. You know how it is." "Yes," she said, knowing all too well. "Pray for rain," he said.
She said nothing. This was their private joke, but it was wearing a little thin now. Theirs was the most volatile campus in the state system--one series of riots, one "cause" after another--yet the students wouldn't riot if it was too difficult. The mob always moved downhill during a riot or before one, never uphill to the other side of campus. And a year and half earlier, a riot had ended and the issue causing it left unresolved and basically forgotten, when it had rained for a week.
"You don't plan to ask the governor for troops this time, do you?" she asked. It was always worse when the troops came.
"No," he said, "but the son of a bitch might decide to send them, anyway."
Kathy frowned. On several occasions her husband and the governor had screamed at each other over the use of troops. Her husband thought it possible to take a hard line on dissent without actually shooting students, without setting up a situation wherein someone was likely to get shot. The governor appeared to think otherwise.
"Why would he do that?" she asked. "There's no election this year."
"No, but you never know when he's going to start worrying that the public has forgotten him."
"Well, this is certainly the stupidest riot we've had yet," she said.
"What makes you say that? In most ways all of them have been stupid."
"What makes you say that? In most ways all of she asked. "What's gotten into them anyway?"
Tom frowned. After five years of marriage, sex was still something of a sore point between them. Tom Kimbal had, as an energetic administrator in his mid-thirties, taken a bride ten years younger than himself. With an hourglass shape and a pliant body that undulated whenever she moved and sometimes when she just sat still breathing, with her sense of compassion and her articulate mind, she had seemed the bride any man would wait for. But she was still frightened of sex. Basically, he blamed her for their problems, but in his more dispassionate moments he was sometimes inclined to admit that some part of their difficulties might be due to the fact that he worked so hard he'd had to, to become president of a large university before he turned forty--and had not been able to spend enough time helping her work out her... her hang-ups, he thought to himself, surprised that the first word to come into his mind would be one that his students so overused.
And this morning sex was an especially sore subject. She had lain there like a goddamn ramrod all the while they'd made love the night before. She had fought off his best efforts to arouse her. Not that she had fought him off physically whenever he got a hard-on she would part her legs and let him do it until he came, gritting her teeth as he exercised his marital prerogative--but she had fought her own arousal, she had fought letting it get to her. But last night, knowing from her body, from her flushed color and taut nipples, that her body had wanted to become aroused, he had gotten mad. She'd said, "I do my wifely duty. That's all you have a right to ask," and that had made him even madder.
"Well," he said, "We'd been thinking about easing up on the dormitory restrictions for some time. Kids today seem better able to handle themselves than we were at their age. They know more and--let's face it--there are fewer taboos."
"Unfortunately," she said.
"Who knows?" he said, an edge in his voice, "They may someday build better marriages."
"Then why don't you give in? Capitulate. You might save someone's life," she said, her voice as edgy as
his.
"This Mrs. Grundy thing makes it a different ball game," he said wearily.
"It sounds like she should have been fired years ago. "True," he said, turning back to his newspaper.
"It's true that students shouldn't let themselves get carried away in the social room, but even so, I guess it's basically their own business. Imagine her wanting to surprise them like that," she said, sipping her own coffee. "What do you plan to do now?"
"I don't know. If they had come in to talk to us, we could have reached some sort of agreement with them. But they choose to take to the streets. Riot-No Bargain. You know, how I feel about that. So I guess we're just going to have to ride it out," he said, standing up to leave.
Tom Kimbal hated the press. The city newspapers had had a field day with Mrs. Grundy. HOUSEMOTHER KIDNAPPED, read one headline; another, ICHABOD CRANE RIDES AGAIN. Mrs. Grundy had identified three of her assailants to the police, for sure, and three others, maybe. All had been picked up for questioning. Unfortunately for Mrs. Grundy, all had alibis. Four of them were actually innocent of the incident in the social room, and the other two had friends. The district attorney had no case. No charges had been filed, but all six were being held "pending further investigation."
If the press hadn't gotten hold of it, the whole matter might have been settled peaceably. But the right-wing element was scandalized, or pretended to be, and there was a cry for blood: "Imagine tying up your housemother just so you can have sex in the dorms. What is happening to youth today? They ought to be horsewhipped. Those students think they can get away with anything."
The D.A. didn't really want to hold the students. Politically, however, he couldn't let them go. The students, already resentful over dormitory conditions, were irate at Mrs. Grundy and all those in the system who seemingly supported her. The campus was a powder keg, and people began to speak in support of the "hostages."
In this atmosphere, a leaflet was handed out one morning. Titled "Eyewitness Account," it was a faithful if anonymous account of what had happened in the social room that night, and in general was an indictment of Mrs. Grundy and the whole system. It was the only spark needed. The riot was on.
Tom Kimbal left for his office, which was in the middle of campus, without knowing what the day would bring. But having been through so many riots in the past six years-first as vice president and then as president of the university--he knew that the day would bring nothing new. His wife Kathy gave him an affectionate kiss when he went out the door. Because although he abused her frequently at night--she thought of him as a satyr--he was usually a very nice man. She was truly fond of him. All men had their weaknesses. When she kissed him, however, putting her arms around his neck, her nipples dark shadows visible through her nightie, he merely accepted her kiss without kissing back. Her lips quivered for a few seconds after he'd walked out the door, as if his coolness had wounded her.
She tried to like sex, she really did. But she couldn't and as time went on that seemed to upset him more and more. She liked it all right up to a point. He was kind and gentle and always excited her at first. Last night, when he had buried his head in her breasts and kissed them so sweetly, sucking her nipples so angelically, and then put his hand there between her legs, she had been delirious and thought sure she would like it this time. Then she had felt it, his organ, which was so big and blue-veined with that horrid red knob on the endshe thought, frankly, that it was frightfully ugly--and when she felt it her body went rigid. She had no control over it--she didn't see anything the least sexy about him sticking his thing into her. She always shut her eyes and tried not to think about anything at all--like when she was a little girl and had to eat something she didn't like. What bothered her about sex was simply that she couldn't bear the sight of his sex organ, but she'd never had the nerve to tell him so.
About noon a crowd gathered in the student square, campus police and the county sheriffs reserves were out of sight in the basement of the Administration Building. Toward one side of the crowd, two plainclothesmen made an arrest of a non-student who had thrown a rock through a plate glass window the day before, identifying him from a newspaper photograph. When he refused to "come along peacefully," one officer grabbed him from behind and the other pulled out a truncheon and a pair of handcuffs. The lad struggled, twisting to break the stranglehold on his throat, when the second officer hit him along the side of his head with his short club.
They had attracted attention, those nearby turning to watch. People began shouting: "Pigs!" "Off the pigs!" and "Save our brother!" As the crowd closed in, a tall young man jumped on an officer's back and rode him to the ground. After a brief scuffle, the officer made it back to his feet and both men ran to safety.
Jack, standing with Suzie nearer front center of the crowd, because of the shouts became aware of the scuffle, and regretted not being nearer. He carried his camera, and for the past several days had been collecting photographic evidence of police brutality. But the crowd was angry; he knew there'd be more to photograph today.
Less than five minutes later, an announcement came over the loudspeakers attached to the corners of the Administration Building: "This is the chief of campus police speaking. This is an unlawful assembly. You are in direct violation of the State Criminal Code, Section eighty-four, Paragraph nineteen, which reads: 'It shall be unlawful for a crowd of more than twenty-five persons to assemble on State Property without prior written consent of the concerned officials.' This is an unlawful assembly. If you have not dispersed in ten minutes, you will all be arrested. This is a warning."
The crowd had begun to jeer even before the loudspeaker crackled to silence. When the chief stopped, the cat calls were deafening and continued for several minutes before dying away. Everyone stayed in place. Some looked about nervously and others began speculation about how many pigs they'd have today. Sneers did not fully leave faces. If someone had looked carefully, they'd have seen pockets bulging with rocks. Standing relatively isolated near the front of the crowd were six or eight people carrying brown paper bags; everyone else maintained his distance from them because the bags were carefully filled with human feces.
"The Blue Meanies!" someone shouted.
Sure enough, around the corner of the building marched a phalanx of blue-coated helmeted nightstick-wielding policemen. All wore gas masks. Those in front held their clubs at ready and those behind carried rifles and canisters of tear gas. At first the crowd moved back, but then there was no place to retreat. Someone threw a rock, striking a policeman on his face shield; he shook his head and stayed in formation. One, two, three canisters of tear gas were fired, with a crack and then a hiss as each canister, trailing a thin stream of gas, flew threw the air and into the center of the crowd, which was fast becoming a mob. The front row of police came up to the edge of the mob and each man began clubbing whomever he could reach. The shit flingers threw their bags of shit. More canisters flew, and many were thrown back. The riot had begun. To Tom Kimbal, viewing it from his fourth-floor office window, it looked more like a pitched battle. He wondered how he'd manage to hold the governor off for a few more days.
But such a battle could never go on for very long without becoming a massacre. Guerrilla tactics were called for: hit quickly and then retreat; throw a rock or lob back a canister and then run. Besides, tear gas quickly suffuses even a large open area. Since it worked unpleasantly on mucous membranes, the women were more susceptible to it than men. When the gas was thick, it irritated not only their noses and eyes, but it made their vaginas smart.
Another company or two of police advanced in formation from around the other end of the Administration Building. The students panicked, dropping their picket signs to run. In addition to the exits at the ends of the Administration Building, there was a main exit from the square between the science hall and the library, a broad section of pavement slopping to the lower plaza, from which one could run in any number of directions. The mob poured between the two buildings and onto the plaza.
Jack paused to get a shot of two pigs clubbing a prostrate body, alternately hammering like two carnies driving a tent peg. A puddle of blood spread from wounds in the unconscious person's head onto the blacktop. Running hard, another pig approached Jack from the side, nightstick held like a tomahawk. In the nick of time Jack saw him out of the corner of his eye and stumbled back. The whistling club slashed through the air right where Jack had held his camera. Jack grabbed Suzie's hand and ran, but didn't get completely out of the way before the careening bull caught him with his back swing: Jack took a glancing blow on the back of his head. He blanked out for a fraction of a second and might have fallen were he not already in motion and pulled along by Suzie.
They reached the lower plaza just as another group of officers approached from the other side of it, throwing the retreating mob into a complete rout. Instead of giving them a wide berth and fleeing around them, or even running to the sides, which were open, some students lost their heads at the sight of the pigs and
turned around, going against the crowd. They bumped heads with comrades, some students fell, some were trampled. Seeing their quarry in rout, the officers broke ranks and charged.
A student with a pig on his heels charged between Jack and Suzie. The officer automatically swung his club as he passed, but Jack ducked in time. He stood still and looked around for Suzie without seeing her. Pigs poured into the plaza from both ends now. It was time to get out. Jack ran downhill in the direction he'd told Suzie to run if they were separated, heading past the president's mansion and into town, if they got that far.
Running along in a group of forty or fifty others, a platoon of pigs hot on their heels, as they rounded the corner of the mansion Jack spotted a line of pigs spread out on the sidewalk ahead of them. The crowd of students divided, running to either side. Most of them got away, since most of the pigs carried their pot bellies with them and had become winded. Jack, still feeling dizzy and knowing he couldn't run much farther, dived into the bushes as soon as he saw the waiting reinforcements. He climbed under a camellia bush and tried not to breathe.
There were a few scattered shouts and cries, either from irate pigs or students who didn't make it clear of them, and someone heaved a rock through one of the mansion's windows on his way by. Then it was still, still enough for Jack to hear from thirty yards distance, one pig speaking to another, "Better beat the bushes for a minute--I thought I saw someone jump in there."
His blood froze for a second in panic. He didn't know whether to crawl deeper into the camellia bush or make a run for it. In the same split second that he stepped out from behind the bush to get his bearings, his eye caught the fact that the window beside him was open a few inches. Moving quickly, thinking just maybe, he stepped over to it and onto the gas meter, where he jumped in surprise and almost fell off: there was a bone-crushing thunk and an animal yelp not ten yards from him. "Got the mother-fucker," someone yelled, dragging out of the bushes someone else who had apparently gotten the bright idea of diving there. Jack eased the window up and got his foot up over the ledge. Pulling himself in was more of a strain than he had anticipated. When he tried to stand upright, he felt his head spin.
Kathy Kimbal had taken her time squaring away the breakfast room and taking her bath. As she toweled dry she heard the shouts of the rioters and the general clamor from the middle of campus, and from her upstairs bedroom window watched the hazy cloud of tear gas rise into the air. The gas carried in the wind and, unless she had her windows closed, it permeated the house. As it was, all the bushes and trees carried its acrid stench for days after any riot. She couldn't remember whether she'd shut the parlor window or not, and made a mental note to check on it before the gas cloud drifted. *
The shouting and tumult drew nearer and soon footsteps thumped by as the first of the fleeing rioters ran past. She ran her bath towel between her legs once more to make sure her crack was dry and that no moisture remained in her generous jet-black muff. She stepped into her panties and the nylon stretched thinly over the flaccid womanly globes of her ass, Leaning forward slightly so that her breasts dangled, she fitted them into the cups of her brassiere and then straightened up to fasten it. It was a flimsy flesh-colored "non-bra" bra, the kind which had just come into fashion; it so revealed the natural hang of her breasts that she was still self-conscious about wearing it in public. Tom said it looked like she wasn't wearing one at all.
She was searching her closet for a dress when she heard a tinkle of glass from downstairs. She hurriedly grabbed her bathrobe and put it on as she trotted down the hall. Footsteps and shouts were all around the house now. She quickly spotted glass on the living room floor and saw a rock nearby. "Damn them," she thought.
She looked out the window and was surprised to see the line of police standing along the sidewalk. What did they intend to do? Usually the police just chased everyone away... she remembered that the mayor had requested they try to restrict the riots to campus--there had been general vandalism downtown the day before.
She watched as three or four club-swinging policemen caught up with confused rioters, whacking them from behind. Since nightsticks had a row of beveled ridges on their club end, whenever a student was hit on the skull the skin broke, the flesh tore, blood spurted or ran. It was sickening. Kathy had never seen it so close up before. She watched, mouth agape, as a policeman caught up with a girl who was not fleet enough of foot, clubbing her several times across the neck and shoulder. The girl stumbled and fell, perhaps given a nudge from the policeman's boot. When she tried to stand again, he kicked her in the stomach. Holding her stomach as she sat doubled up on the ground, the girl looked into the officer's face and made a defiantly obscene
gesture. Her voice was shrill as she screeched, "You mother-fucking pig!" The policeman shoved her with his boot and put one foot squarely on her chest to begin beating her, the girl futilely fighting the club with her arms. Kathy was nauseous, her throat felt funny and she broke into a cold sweat. She shut her eyes, thinking she would vomit.
What kind of a world was this?
Kathy swayed weak-kneed and held her hand over her mouth. Her eyes popped open and she took a deep breath when she heard a window slide open in the next room. She heard Levi's scratch across wood and the nearby klunk of a footstep. Someone had climbed into the room! Walking on the balls of her bare feet, almost clinging to the wall, she walked to the parlor door and peered through the glass. A man was standing there. Swaying dizzily, he seemed hurt. He was a young man with long hair.
When Kathy opened the parlor door, Jack looked at her with uncomprehending eyes, his face twisted in pain and confusion. His body seemed to crumple in the middle. He sagged and then fell face forward onto the floor, still clutching his camera. Kathy gasped. The back of his head was scarlet with blood.
She stood over his prostrate body for a moment before stooping to inspect his wound and then feel his pulse. She was on her way to the bathroom for towels and a basin of water when she heard the doorbell ring. There was a policeman on the steps.
"Are you all right, Mrs. Kimbal?" he asked.
"Oh ..." she hesitated. "Yes, I'm fine."
"Well, we were just wondering," he said. "We saw the window was open and thought somebody mighta busted in."
"No, it's okay." "You sure?" he asked. "Uh--yes! I opened it," she said.
"Oh. Well, somebody said that window was closed ten minutes ago and we just thought we'd check," he said.
"Everything's fine," she said. "No one's here."
His eyes, just slits in his pockmarked face, ran from her face to her breasts and below. "Maybe I'd better come in and take a look around," he said, leering, "better play it safe." So saying, he grasped her arm just above the elbow and tried to squeeze into the house.
"No!" she said, looking him in the eye. "No one's here who shouldn't be. Just Mabel the cleaning woman and myself," she lied. "Thank you for your concern, officer, but I'm sure we'll be okay."
"If you say so, Mrs. Kimbal," he said, hooking his thumbs into his belt, rocking back to peer at her body with those beady eyes.
Instinctively drawing her robe tighter about her waist, she thought, My God, this man really is a pig! as she shut the door in his face.
"Come on, Mullins," somebody yelled. "We've got to get the fuckers out to the prison farm." "Okay," he said, and clomped down the steps.
Holding his head in her lap, Kathy rinsed the dried blood out of the back of Jack's hair, thankful that the gash on his scalp had stopped bleeding. He had a knot where he'd been hit and the whole area was purple-looking. Some blood had run down the back of his neck and she unbuttoned the top buttons to his shirt to reach her wet towel in. She then moved to the other side to rinse his brow.
His long hair was wispy and he seemed so angelic. She wondered how anyone would want to hit him. She lightly stroked his cheek, wondering what more she should do for him.
When Jack's eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was the insides and undersides of a woman's thighs, her skin silken from her knees to her pantie-covered mound: the woman knelt just in front of him.
"Uhh," he groaned, shutting his eyes again, "where am I?"
"You'll be okay. Don't worry," she said, as his eyes blinked and opened again.
Now Jack looked into a face, a beautiful face and a kind face, the face he would have expected to go with those thighs he'd just seen.
"How do you feel?"
"Oh, I'll be all right," he said. "But right now I've got a bit of a headache. Do you happen to have any aspirin?"
"Sure," she said, and she stood up to go get some.
Her buttocks undulated as she strode away and her breasts swayed as she walked back with a bottle and a cup of water; and while she was gone Jack figured out that this must be President Kimbal's wife or his niece or daughter or somebody.
"Here," she said, stooping to hand him a bottle and cup, her robe falling away to reveal swaying cleavage between magnificent breasts. "I brought Emperin. They're stronger. They'll get rid of it in a hurry."
"Thank you." She bent over him with a look of obvious concern in her face and Jack decided to indulge in it. "Ohhh," he moaned, "it was terrible out there. You wouldn't believe some of the things those pigs do to people."
"I think I know what they do," she said, her brow knitting at the too vivid memory of what she'd seen out her window.
"I've got it all right here on film," Jack said, reaching for his camera. "I don't know," he said. "Try to keep it from happening again." "Somebody ought to do that," she said.
Struggling to get to his feet, he said, "Here, help me up," his eyes communicating that he couldn't get up by himself.
"Oh," she said, taking his arm and helping him to his feet, "you can't leave yet. You should rest a moment longer."
He swayed a bit melodramatically and said, "I think maybe you're right. Let me sit on your couch for a moment."
Still holding his arm, she backed him several steps to the sofa. When he felt it touch the backs of his legs, he flopped down, dragging Kathy with him.
"What's wrong with the world?" he said, turning to lightly nuzzle her neck as she sat holding his arm between her breasts. His hand was on her leg and he flicked her slightly parted robe aside to touch her bare silken skin.
"I often wonder that, too," she said, thinking, poor upset child.
Their eyes met in a look of intense communication. He lifted his hand, his other hand, not the one with which he squeezed and now slowly caressed her thigh, to her cheek and brushed it lightly. "Y'know, you're a very nice lady," he said.
Before she could say anything, Jack began grunting as he breathed, as if in pain. His hand slid from her cheek down her throat to the upper part of her chest, his fingertips just inside her brassiere. "What's wrong?" she asked, fearing he might have a relapse.
"I ... I don't know," he stammered, moaning deeply and rolling his head back as if he'd passed out, his hand falling lifelessly--not so lifelessly or suddenly, however, that it fell anyplace other than directly into the cup of her flimsy brassiere, gliding over her breast and relaxedly cupping the end of it.
While Kathy looked at him with a frown, with genuine concern for his well-being, Jack was aware that her nipple had stiffened and pressed achingly into his palm. Kathy turned facing him and eased him back onto the couch until he was flat on his back and she was kneeling over him, straddling him with one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor. While his one hand had dropped from her thigh, his other had remained in the cup of her brassiere, seemingly caught there, and as their bodies shifted in relation to each other, his wrist had smoothly drawn her flimsy brassiere as well as her robe to the side: her left breast dangled free in front of Jack's seemingly lifeless eyes, her nipple red and marvelously elongated. He hoped she didn't notice his erection.
She felt somewhat awkward perched above him like that, but before she could move she realized that she would have to free herself of the hand caught in her clothes. She tugged at his wrist and her breast quivered as Jack's hand brushed it, her nipple scraping across his palm.
"Don't let 'em kill me yet!" Jack gasped, clutching the back of her neck with his free hand and pulling her down on top of him, her breasts crushed between them, one breast by chance clutched in his hand--although she
didn't realize it at the moment.
"It's okay," she consoled, knowing he couldn't hear her since he was delirious.
Eyes closed now, he rolled his head as she consoled him. He worked his mouth and throat like a deaf-mute trying to speak for the first time and, continuing ever so softly to massage the overwhelming handful of fine wobbly teat, he deftly and lightly tugged at the back of her robe, pulling it up over her ass. After an especially violent momentary spasm, during which she thought he'd swallow his tongue, his hand wound up in her panties, palm quivering on a buttock and fingertip poised pressing a hair-covered cunt lip, close enough to the center of her heat for Jack to know that the moment he touched her she would discharge fluid all over his hand.
She lay with her head on his shoulder, curious at her own outpouring of sympathy for this boy. She knew quite well that the way he touched her had something to do with it, but her emotions had been touched first and her sexual arousal merely abetted that--the two merged. She knew he was touching her in an insanely intimate way a finger had probed and was buried to the second joint in her throbbing liquefied vagina, and that if he were not so delirious with pain she would never let him do this.
Then she suddenly realized that he wasn't delirious anymore--not delirious in the same mindless way. She knew it--she knew it beyond a doubt from her own urgency, her urgency in response to his as he madly manipulated her breast, his thumb rolling her nipple in a dozen directions, her swollen aching nipple, and, as he used two fingers on her hot wet cunt, whipping her vagina to a froth.
She knew this was a sex act that she had unwittingly begun to participate in knowledge which in that instant chilled her soul and summoned to mind an image of a saddened Tom--and yet for a full thirty seconds beyond the instant she knew this she continued to participate. That thirty seconds seemed like an eternity: she clamped her legs together and clenched her buttocks to encapture the frothy probing fingers, fingertips swishing around her cervix at the depths of her cunt in one long maddened inward push, and she consciously thrust her breast more tightly into the clutching hand. So great was her rapture she went to the edge of a dead faint.
But she was a woman of principles and knew the time had come to obey them. Perhaps she knew somewhere in her mind that it was always shortly after she'd reached this peak with Tom that he shattered it with his ugly horrid penis. In one smooth movement she rocked back on her knees and yanked her pelvis forward. Jack's fingers, his forearm bumped by her buttock, slid out and over her anus. The rubied gash of her pussy winked at him when she lifted her leg to climb off the couch. She straightened her garments and turned to face him, surprisingly composed.
Jack had known from the way she yanked her pussy away that he wasn't going to get any further this way. "Well, I didn't know what was happening to me there for a minute or two," he said.
"Neither did I, quite," she said, her tone clipped.
"I sure as hell liked it though," he said.
"I'm sure you did," she said.
"And didn't you?"
"Oh, for a moment," she said. "But that's neither here nor there."
"Well," he said. "I feel better. My headache has gone. I should be on my way."
"I guess so," she said.
He picked up his camera. He had no intention of leaving just then, but thought he'd go through with the masquerade. "Well, I can't tell you how grateful I am," he said. "This is one rioter you've given great solace to. I'll spread the word."
She didn't quite believe him, about his spreading the word--she could tell by his face. "Are you proud of it?" she asked. "Of being a rioter? Is that your way of doing your own thing?"
"Well, yes," he said, smiling, "in a way it is. As long as I agree with the principles at stake and think they're worth fighting for."
And her voice dripping with contempt, she asked, "And 'free sex'? Is that worth fighting for?"
"Don't you think everyone has a right to have sex with whomever they please?" he asked.
"Sure. I hate to see people degrade themselves, but I'm willing to grant them the freedom to do so."
"Degrading?"
he asked, incredulously. "You find sex degrading?" "Not with my husband, no." Ahha, his wife!
Jack thought. "Okay, lady. Let's look at it this way. You like to fuck, don't you?" "Not always, no," she said. "Not that it's really any of your business."
He thought otherwise, but decided to leave that lie for the moment. "Well, you just said, or implied, that you were willing to grant other people the right to fuck. Isn't that so?" "Yes?"
"Well, that's the issue. That's what we're fighting for the freedom to fuck if we want. What are young lovers without fucking? They're nowhere, man!" "And that's all you mean by 'free sex'?" "Yes."
"You're lying. 'Free sex' implies having it willy-nilly, with an odd assortment of people, showing no particular discretion. And sometimes not even any affection."
"Oh yeah?" he said. "You think not? I'll tell you one thing, lady, and tell you for damn sure. If you had had sex a little more freely when you were young, you wouldn't be such a hypocrite now."
"Hypocrite!" she cried, shocked and offended.
"You're goddamn right," he said, sitting on the arm of the easy chair she'd plopped into. "Christ, a minute ago I passed out. My mind was on the blink for a while. I might have died for all you know. And what happened? Well, I woke up and there you were--you were all over me. You'd hauled your tit out and you'd stuffed my hand up your cunt! Then you turn around and try to pretend none of it happened. That, I call hypocrisy."
"That's not quite what happened," she said. "Nor is it how it happened."
"No!" he yelled. "You enjoy having your tits played with, and you goddamn well better admit it."
Without further ado, Jack ripped open the front of Kathy Kimbal's bathrobe, its two top buttons popping and rolling across the floor, then reached violently into the cups of her flimsy bra and hauled out her tits, holding one in each hand. "No!" she said weakly, trying to push his hands away.
But Jack squeezed rudely, digging his fingers into her softness to hang on in ten different places. She gave up trying to push him away. She realized that at the moment she was vulnerable and, knowing she would have to endure being mauled, she gritted her teeth.
Jack did not want to cause her pain--quite the opposite--and when she ceased physical resistance, relaxing his grip he manipulated her with gentleness. Her nipples became erect in his palms, rubbing circles in his hands as he brushed her, fingers dabbling slightly. She gritted her teeth not to ward off unpleasantness, she discovered, but to ward off pleasure. She was acutely aware of the tantalizing friction on her nipples. The whole ends of her breasts had begun to throb. Her breathing quickened.
He lifted her breast, holding it high as he lowered his head and seized its knot-hard aching central adornment in a long sucking bite, undoing the belt of her robe and her last two buttons. In one motion his hand slid into the top of her panties, over her muff and into the furry hollow between her legs, cupping her mound with all four fingers. She gushed a bit of her thick syrup; he pressed more deeply with his middle finger which slid easily into her hot wet slit. The knuckle of his rapidly rubbing finger butted her clitoris. She slid down a ways in her seat, spreading her legs. He probed ardently, aware that she throbbed on his fingers.
"Do you enjoy it?" he asked, drawing back for a moment.
"Oh, yes!" she said.
"Tell me exactly what you enjoy," he said, biting her nipple softly and giving it several rapid flicks with his tongue.
"I enjoy having you play with my breasts," she said.
"What else?" he asked, his fingers swishing about madly inside her, touching on every fold and crease
within her cunt.
"I enjoy-uh--down there too," she moaned.
"Tell me exactly what it is that you enjoy," he said. "Say it."
"I enjoy being finger-fucked!" she cried, suddenly beginning to jerk her hips back and forth with such vigor that her breasts bounced, wanting harsher contact with the fingers which seemed to scour her entire being.
When he slid her robe back on her shoulders, she worked her arms out of it and unfastened her brassiere--not that the skimpy thing did anything to contain her breasts, but since their pulchritudinous weight hung over its flattened cups, its straps dug into her shoulders. Still rotating her pussy on his fingers, she lifted first one buttock and then the other to allow him to draw her panties down over her hips; he drew them to her knees and let them drop about her ankles.
Pulled by him, she scooted her ass out to the edge of the easy chair so that she almost lay flat in it. Poised, his hips between her knees, he dropped his pants and undershorts. When she saw his cock standing out ramrod straight, her eyes narrowed in fright.
"No!" she said, scooting away from him back into the easy chair, "That's all."
"What do you mean?" he asked, incredulous.
"I mean, let's stop now," she said. "I don't wish to continue further."
"Hypocrite!" he screamed.
"No," she said calmly, "I enjoyed what you were doing and I admitted it. And I'm saying I don't want to continue. That isn't hypocritical."
Where he'd been incredulous at her about face, her nonchalance now angered him. He grabbed her hips with both hands and pulled her ass back out within reach of his cock. She tried holding her knees together but his hips forced them ever wider. Her ankles were still caught in her panties and so she didn't have full use of her legs, her stretched panties caught beneath his knees. He positioned his cock right in the center of her wrinkled pussy lips and caught both hips again. She sat up and began flailing at his head and shoulders with her hands. His hand on her chest, he shoved her back down. When she immediately sat up again, yelping "No!" he held her by the throat at arm's length. His reach being longer than hers, all she could do was scratch at his arm and look at him with narrow hate-filled eyes while he held her firm by the hip and artfully wedged his stiff thrusting cock into her, when with a fleeting victory-smile he shoved her flat onto her back again.
Holding her tight by the hips again, he rammed brutally into her, her body going completely stiff as her cunt took the blow. Ramming brutally the walls and end of her sopping once-throbbing cunt with his cock, feeling her stiffness in his hands as her back arched, he thought he had her. He knew she'd come around, failing in his own urgency to note that her nipples had relaxed, that she did not have a deep flush, and that her breathing did not quicken. He was thinking, by God, good ol'Prexy Kimbal's hot little honey is gonna cum like a pack of firecrackers, when, catching his half-glazed eye, she said, her voice icy with contempt, "You snot-nosed little son of a bitch!"
While he didn't loose his hard-on, that remark cooled his ardor. He realized that the stiffness in her body and the pain in her eyes really was that, that it bore no relation to arousal. For a moment he debated whether to get his rocks off while he had the chance or to try to correct whatever had gone wrong. He looked at his watch and saw that it was only two-thirty. Hell, Kimbal probably wouldn't be home until dinner. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you were just being stubborn or that you had some momentary reservations or something. I had no idea you felt that way about me, the way you were enjoying it," he said, just a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
Kathy thought for a moment she would cry, not because of Jack--her feelings about him were not that strong, especially as regarded "success" in bed--but because his tone of voice was exactly like that of Tom's the night before, when he'd said, "Have you ever thought about another woman? Maybe they'd be able to do you in a way I don't seem to be able to.
Would she always be this way? she wondered. She sensed that Tom's love for her was beginning to wane and that her repeated failures had something to do with it. She looked now at Jack's penis which he had eased out of her and which had begun to droop. It wasn't so frightful-looking as she'd imagined while it was inside her. For some reason, it was less horrid than Tom's: it was circumcised and as it began to dwindle its veins
were not so blue. Jack's balls, a bit smaller than Tom's, seemed almost cute. The fact that this cock before her now shrank because of something she said made it seem vulnerable rather than blindly ravaging; she had a certain power over it.
To Jack, Kathy appeared sad. He hadn't wanted to make her unhappy; he'd just wanted to give her a memorable shafting. Saying, "You'll have to forgive me if you feel I've been unfair or anything. You have an absolutely irresistible body--it's the most beautiful body I've ever seen--and I think anyone would have done the same thing."
His voice was gentle and as he spoke he bent forward to nuzzle her fine teats, rubbing one on each cheek. Her nipples soon poked rigid again and he thought, my God, she's like a yo-yo ... we'll see how long we can keep her spinning this time. The aroma of her pussy lingered sweet and sour on his fingers. He rocked back on his heels and then, pinching her pulpy hair-covered outer lips to pull her apart, he sucked her moistly lustrous delicacies between his lips, his tongue dabbling the folds at the mouth of her vagina, tasting the source of her womanly musk.
Her body became pliant again. She spread her legs wide, tendons standing out, and canted her pussy up to him. She emitted her slick lubricant onto his tongue. Her quim itself became pliant.
This was the third time her cunt had begun to throb this afternoon. It was almost unbearable. Sometimes after Tom had aroused her and then abused her, she would lie awake in frustration until she heard his regular breathing, when she would masturbate: she would masturbate when this boy left. The tension had built in the core of her until she felt like a spring, a spring tight with too much weight on it. The more Jack gobbled, the more her pussy liquefied and throbbed. She remembered an epileptic in a grand mal seizure, drooling. That was how she felt now--on the brink of a grand mal--her pussy was drooling.
Just when she began to bounce on the globes of her ass, Jack realized that she was almost to the point where she'd turned off on him twice now. She wasn't quite there yet, however, and he drew back and said, "Do you want me to eat your pussy some more or do you want me to stop?"
"Oh! Eat me!" she cried.
"Okay," he said, "But I want you to spread your pussy out with your fingers so I can get a good bite on it. And nothing will make me stop this time."
Her hands guided by his, she spread her pussy wide with both thumbs and both forefingers. He then rearranged her fingers so that she held the outer lips stretched to their utmost with her thumbs and middle fingers, one forefinger now out of sight to its second joint within her throbbing hole and the other posed just above her clitoris, pressing it slightly to the side.
Picking up his camera, he quickly set the light meter for indoors--it was bright enough so that he didn't need a flash--and clicked it, holding it steady for the four seconds he judged it would take to get a print. He focused to catch every detail of her gaping twat. Her breasts, like dream mounds, would be less in focus behind, and between them her face, blurred but recognizable, her eyes closed, her lips parted.
She began thrusting her finger into herself and massaging her clitoris, and she continued to diddle herself when he doubled her legs back, dropping them on either arm of her chair. This brought the tiny ring of her anus into view. He spread further the plump cheeks of her woman-sized ass and, after dunking a finger into her cunt for lubricant, he plunged it into her rectum.
She squealed through her nose and her sphincter resisted him, but her over-charged nervous system was in no shape to resist for long. She seemed intent on masturbating, she now whipped her cunt to a froth with two fingers while she diddled her clitoris with her other hand. He skewered her rectum at will.
His cock was rock hard and he'd forgotten all about eating her. Carefully, he pried her hand loose, the hand that blocked her vagina, and inserted the tip of his cock. She continued to beat her clitoris with two fingers as he rocked his hips forward, watching her labes part to admit the broad head of his shaft and then swallow it, two-thirds of it. Her throbbing cunt walls parted to accept it, gushing liquid to ease its passage.
He had figured out that she reacted to other stimuli somewhat better than to a cock: the more, the better, he figured. He regretted that he wasn't able to shove his aching cock all the way into her, but accepted for now that she needed to beat her clit, needed to have her asshole skewered, and needed his other hand, which massaged her tits and plucked her nipples.
"Don't you like it?" he asked.
"Yesss!" she moaned, "Yesss! Yess!"
Kathy had never felt anything like this. There were almost too many sensations in competition with each other: each of the most sensitive parts of her body were burning with flickering flames, all of which soon merged into one great bonfire. She was on the verge of melting. With his cock gliding so smoothly and clingingly in and out her overheated cunt (which she found herself rocking up and down for him) and her rectum indecently probed and her titties tickled and her clitoris lit like a fuse, she knew that she was on the raw edge of insanity. "Oh! Oh! OH!" she moaned. "Oh ... I'm going to ... I'm almost..."
He unfingered her asshole and seized her bursting melon breasts with both hands, his thumbs scouring swollen nipples, and began thrusting fully and pell-mell at her upraised cunt, his balls slapping her sensitized anus--she clenched her buttocks on his scrotum, holding it tight in her crack so that it was drawn rapidly back and forth over her raw little ring.
The first twitch of his cock did her. "Aiiiieeeeee! Aiiiie e e ee e!" she yelped. Her body's muscles twitched all in concert as she rolled her head and eyeballs, her breasts aquiver as she felt her spasmodically out-of-control cunt grip his churning cock. She'd never done it to herself like this, and as her orgasmic yelps echoed in her brain, she knew somewhere that right now she'd become that epileptic she'd once seen, and admitted that a smoothly wielded cock could make all the difference in the world.
"Agghhh!" Jack cried as he felt the first protracted spurt well up from his balls, the sight of this lusciously writhing female beneath him in her throes of spending, that sight coupled with the final acquiescent grip of her foaming churning cunt together sending him inexorably over the edge. "I'm cumming!" he panted.
"Yes! Yes!" she said, for the first time in her life actually grateful for a man's semen, thankful that his hot cum filled her. She rocked her pussy on him for a few moments after his final spurt, wanting all of it.
As the president's wife lay in her spent stupor afterward, Jack took several pictures of her, focusing as clearly on her face as on the puddled semen which had begun to drool out her quim and into her hair, milk white on jet black. Jack was glad he had color film. She seemed too spent to care, a lapse she would soon rue.
CHAPTER THREE
Suzie had been nabbed shortly after having been separated from Jack. She hadn't been clubbed, being among the lucky; easy prey, she had been quite simply collared from behind by the strong arm of the law. Without offering resistance, she had been half pulled, half dragged to a group of waiting pigs near a bus, where she was handcuffed and herded aboard without even having gotten a look at the strong arm of the lawman who grabbed her. Not that it mattered especially.
There were two buses belonging to the San Rialto Prison Farm, or at least two buses in use by them that day. The buses shuttled detainees to the "farm," which was a misnomer. Unless one thought of "farms" in terms of the Deep South and chain gangs, in which case it was not far off.
The buses held up to fifty and made three trips each that afternoon, hauling two hundred and seventy-six students and non-students out to the farm before the day was done. Since Suzie made it onto the second bus, through no direct effort of her own, most of her fellow passengers were ambulatory. A few had bandages, some blood soaked around their heads. Once down on the farm, they would receive medical treatment as soon as the part-time prison doctors got around to it; only those lucky enough to have been clubbed senseless received hospital treatment before going to the farm.
Those straggling off her bus joined the tag end of the line of those who had been on the first bus, waiting to be processed. They were ordered not to speak, to look straight ahead, and to move only when the line moved. Shotgun-toting guards with orders to shoot to kill were spaced out at maybe twenty yard intervals.
After answering questions about place of residence and identity, posing for a photograph, and surrendering her valuables--her watch and purse she was told she could call her lawyer. There was no need to call, since several Resistance lawyers were standing within the prison farm office, taking pretty much the same information as the pigs and asking where if any place bail could be raised.
She was ushered into an overcrowded cell in the women's wing where at eight o'clock that night two hours later than usual, due to the massive influx of population--they were fed some watery stew and a thin slice of French bread.
After dinner a slit-eyed pock-marked pig came into the cell and took a careful look around, sizing each girl up as if for wedding clothes. When his eyes lit on Suzie, he sucked on his tooth for a minute and said, "You!" Suzie's heart flip-flopped.
The matron slapped a pair of handcuffs on the trembling girl before she knew what was up and pulled her along out of the cell.
"What? Where are we going?" Suzie asked, trying to hold back from what and wherever it was. "He wants to ask you a few questions," she said. "Now shuddup."
Suzie was hustled down a flight of stairs and into a low stone corridor, smelling musty and unused--in fact, a seldom used part of the old prison. At the end of the corridor a solid iron door stood open, a bright light blazing within. Suzie broke into a cold sweat.
When she stepped into the room she saw a table set cockeyed, a sturdy wooden table which did in fact slant, since both legs on one end had been set on a pair of four-by-fours. It was the last thing Suzie saw for an hour, because the hag-toothed matron without being told dragged Suzie to the table, laid her across it on her back and somehow fastened the girl's handcuffs at the high end. Suzie's head, in the center of the table, lay directly beneath a five-hundred-watt sunlamp. She shut her eyes only to see red. Her buttocks jutted off the low end of the table and her feet touched the floor. She would find this an exceedingly awkward position ... when she relaxed her legs, the weight of her sliding body pulled unpleasantly at her arm sockets and her handcuffs bit her wrists, and when she held her weight with her legs, they began to twitch from the effort.
"Come back in an hour," the man, Officer Mullins, said, "By then I should know everything she does."
The matron left. With the overcrowded facilities she was needed upstairs. Officer Mullins shut the door after her and without prelude said to a quaking Suzie, "Okay, spill."
"What?"
"I said spill!"
"Spill what?"
"Whatever you know."
"Well, um ..." Suzie hesitated, wanting to be cooperative, "What sort of thing would you like to know?"
"About the plot," Officer Mullins said.
"What plot?" she asked.
"Don't play dumb with me," he said.
"I'm not!" she cried.
"You're trying to tell me you don't know a thing about the plot?" he said, sounding both incredulous and enraged.
"I don't!" she protested. "I really don't!"
"I'm going to have to teach you to cooperate with me," he said, his thick, guttural voice menacing. "I am! I am!" she cried, nausea stirring the pit of her stomach.
She felt her sweater being pulled out of her skirt, then yanked up to her armpits in both front and back. This bared her breasts which, with her arms held tightly above her head, jutted straight up in the air, their soft coral tips quivering as the quaking girl gasped for breath.
"Whawhat are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going to teach you to cooperate," he said, unzipping her skirt and slowly tugging both it and her tights down over her hips, slowly baring her milky skin, translucent in the bright light. She began to kick, but Mullins was a burly ex-marine and had no trouble clamping her knees and holding them with one arm, lifting her as he denuded her of her garments. He turned to hold her legs with his other arm to slip her clothing the rest of the way off, letting the skirt fall to the floor and sliding her tights over her feet.
When he let go of her, she crossed her legs instinctively to shield herself, hiding her pussy from his eyes if not her honey blonde muff, which he eyed keenly, stroking his pocked jaw. He'd gotten a glimpse of the folds of her labia when he'd pulled her tights down.
She shivered. It was not warm in the basement and she felt her nipples stiffening from the cool air, which embarrassed her incredibly. "II really don't know what plot you're talking about," she said. "I--I'm not thinking clearly. Please tell me."
"Changing your tune, eh?" he said. "Well I'd say you know good and well I'm talking about the Communist Plot."
"No! No! I don't," she wailed.
Mullins had heard the governor say that the campus disruptions were all a part of the Communist conspiracy. Since leaving the Marines, Mullins' ambition had been to become one of the governor's private bodyguards. He hoped to be able to personally give the governor all the evidence he needed, to ingratiate himself in the governor's eyes. He wished he had the radiotelephone he'd used on prisoners in Viet Nam. That would sure make these shit-head students sing. It had made the Gooks sing. You took the receiver off the radiotelephone and touched the bare wire to a Gook's body, then cranked it up to give 'em the juice. Put the end of the wire in a Gook girl's twat and man! did she writhe! Spilled everything she knew, too. Too bad he couldn't use it on these Pinko Commie bastards. One Commie was just like another. Sergeant Mullins had come home with a medal for meritorious service.
He knew better than to leave bruises. That afternoon Mullins had obtained permission to question prisoners (his lieutenant knew that he'd been in an interrogation unit overseas). However, his methods, which he intended to embellish as he went along, were at this point known only to himself. For a dumb man, he had a good sense of what he could get by with and what he couldn't: some "complaints" were always just a little too outrageous to be believed. He knew better than to leave too many bruises where they could be seen.
"Sing," he commanded.
"Tra-la-la, la-la," she sang, her heart in her throat. "A wise ass," he said.
Suzie wasn't being wise at all. Quite the contrary, knowing how naked and vulnerable she was and aware that she didn't have the answers to his questions, she was nervous as all hell. She entertained some far-out hope that mirth might save the day. To top it off, her nipples were acting up something fierce.
Her eyes were closed and she didn't see his hands approach: when he touched her, her torso jerked. He began to knead her breasts, quite busily, and she realized that she wasn't going to be seriously hurt just then.
Her spasmed muscles relaxed; she wet her lips with her tongue and breathed again, her chest heaving as he manipulated her tits. He caught her rigidly erect nipples between his pudgy fingers and rubbed rapidly. The sensation shot straight to Suzie's cunt. My God, she thought, I'm dizzy with the light shining in my eyes, I'm nauseous and his fingers feel like worms, but even so... even so, my pussy acts up. I don't have any control over it at all! She felt her clitoris stiffen and was aware that her lubricating fluid had begun to flow.
"Who started the riot?"
"II don't know," Suzie lied, her voice faltering, a hesitation caught by Officer Mullins. "You a Party member?"
"No!"
"Know any C.P. members? C.P.," he elaborated, "as you well know, that stands for Communist Party."
"No!"
His nightstick in his hand, Mullins leaned over the girl. His shadow fell over her face and she was able to open her eyes. She opened them only to shudder and close them again, for she peered up into his eyes leering at her from their slits as he grinned evilly, waving his nightstick in front of her.
Introducing her to his weapon, Mullins began rubbing the stick over Suzie's quivering body, its beveled ridges clawing at her flesh as he menaced her breasts and belly and armpits. She began to perspire, her heart in her throat, and sweat beaded on her forehead and between her quaking breasts. Her bare skin was luminous in the bright lamplight.
"You must know one or two Communists," Mullins said. "Surely you can name a couple."
"I can't," she said in a barely audible whisper, "I really don't know any."
"You're not being very cooperative," he said. "You're not very cooperative 'tall."
"I'm trying," she said.
"Spread your legs," he commanded.
She neither obeyed him nor spoke. Perspiration dripped from her brow now and stung her eyes. She licked her lips. Her up-thrusting breasts quaked when she breathed. "Spread your legs," he repeated.
Still without speaking, she shook her head no, more in fright than to communicate anything to him.
Angry, he seized one of her breasts--it was too big and too firm for his hand, but he grabbed as much of it as he could--and twisted, his hand moving in a complete circle. Giving her a sharp jab in the kidney with the tip of his truncheon, he said, "Spread!"
"Ouch!" she squealed, parting her knees.
"Wider," he said, bearing down on her cruelly twisted breast and giving the other a sharp jab with his stick. "Wide as you can. Or I'll hurt you real bad."
The tendons on the insides of Suzie's thighs stood out. An evil leer in his eye, Mullins bent over to peer closely at the hapless girl's crotch. Her buttocks were clenched so tightly that he could only half see the pink-brown ring of her anus, but her fleshy hair-covered outer lips were drawn apart to reveal in the midst of the honey blonde fluff her inner membrane, sticking out slightly, the tender labia stuck together with their own fluid. When he placed a thumb and forefinger on either side of the sensitive lips and parted them, the girl's sweet womanly scent rose to his nostrils; the insides of the lips, surrounding the wet folds of her vagina, glistened.
Mullins watched the end of his stick shove the folds aside, entering the tight slick channel with apparent ease. He smiled a crooked smile as eight inches of his nightstick slid out of sight within the girl. When he drew the club out again he saw the lining of the girl's cunt cling to it, with reluctance letting go of it, beveled bump by bump. The girl's fluid had already begun to collect in the grooves between the bumps.
He continued to work his unnatural shaft in and out of her, and when he spoke his voice was soft, almost melodious in contrast to his sharply barked commands. "As unwilling as you are to cooperate, I'd say you're part of the conspiracy. I'd say you have a whole lot to hide. I'd say you'd better think again and begin to tell me about it."
"Noo!" Suzie wailed, and burst into tears. The hopelessness and basic incongruity of the situation was too much for her to bear. She couldn't bear it a moment longer. Her eyes hurt from the light. She was powerless to stop this demented man. Her pussy throbbed helplessly. She sobbed, and gave herself over wholeheartedly to
her tears, spasms wracking her body as she began to thrash her head. Her tears washed the sweat from her eyes, but that was her only relief, for tension mounted in her pussy.
Mullins increased the tempo of his cruelly penetrating nightstick and began twisting it slightly; the motion, of his wrist resembled that of a man sharpening a carving knife on a whetstone. "Spill, baby!"
"Agghhh!" Suzie moaned, the nerves throughout her body crawling, her brain white hot and incapable of thought. She held her breath in an attempt to get control of herself, but before her sobs died away she began to thrust her pelvis and rotate her hips on the thrusting nightstick.
She didn't think a thought; the tension in her pussy had taken over, was out of control. She was doing her best to fuck this pig's nightstick while he looked on coolly, grinning maliciously as he worked her pussy up to a lather. Abruptly, but only after several sharp rapid thrusts, he withdrew his stick as if to cool it off in the breeze, leaving the girl to thrust her sopping overheated quim vainly at the empty air for several frustrated moments before she managed to stop her reflexive fucking motions.
"Who are your Fellow Travelers?" Mullins barked.
"I don't know," she moaned. "Please."
"Please what?"
When she'd first uttered "please" Suzie had meant "don't stop now" but her reeling mind had had enough of a reprieve for her to realize just how foul and degenerate this beast of a pig was. "Please leave me alone," she begged.
"Sure," he said, his voice honeysweet, "just tell me who's behind the riot." "A group called the April Coalition," she said. "You part of it?"
"No," she lied. "Who is?"
"I don't know," she lied.
"I think you do know. I think you know all about the conspiracy and I think you're part of it!" Mullins roared, seizing the girl by her hips and turning her onto her stomach. The sharp edge of the table bit into her hips before she found her footing; when she straightened her legs, her back arched and her buttocks rose prominently and defenselessly, the globes parted slightly. Her breasts pressed at the tabletop which was damp and slippery from her perspiration. On her belly, she didn't have to look into the light, although, because of the spots in front of her eyes, she wouldn't realize it for several minutes.
"I'd bet you could even tell me a few things about the plot to kidnap the National Director," Mullins shouted, continuing to roar at the girl as he pulled apart the fleshy globes of her yielding buttocks, exposing the dainty pink-brown elastic ring of her anus, and centered the highly lubricated end of his nightstick. It did her little good to clench her buttocks: when he brutally shoved his hard oak stick into her rectal passage, Suzie squealed like a stuck pig, "Aooyii!" and lunged forwardinsofar as she was ableto try to escape.
Mullins began twisting his club around in small circles as if cranking a miniature Model T Ford, skewering the girl's tight rectum. In self-defense, rolling with the punches, she rotated her pelvis in small circles. Mullins slapped her ass, his open hand leaving a reddening imprint as it fell with a thwack on the girlish globe. Her flesh quivered and reddened on either side of her parted crack wherein her stretched anus gave but little indication of the havoc wreaked in her bowels. Slapping one yielding cheek and then the other, Mullins all the while yelled, "You goddamn Commies play dumb! I'll show ya! Try to take over the country from within, will ya? Don't respect the flag! Hatch conspiracies! I'll show ya!"
"No! No! No!" Suzie wailed. Her buttocks were afire and she was fearful her rectum would be torn loose. She was actually conscious of each ridge on the slick rotating stick.
"Using Free Sex as an excuse to destroy society!" Mullins shouted.
"Ouch! OH! Oh! Noo-uh!" she wailed, hardly able to get her breath for the pain lancing her whole posterior region. Just when she thought she would faint from her ruthless penetration, Mullins let go his club and stopped spanking her.
Gasping for breath, Suzie blinked and opened her eyes. When she craned her neck to look over her shoulder, she saw a sweaty Mullins fumble with his fly. Giving up on his belt buckle, he undid his zipper and wrenched his fly to pull out his stiffly erect cock, which must have been uncomfortably cramped in his pants;
he grunted as he bent it to haul it out. Suzie shuddered.
Staring down, Mullins watched Suzie work her anus in a vain attempt to expel the wedged club, its stretched ring expanding and contracting as two or three of the club's ridges passed out. Staring at the quartered flexing aperture, a sparse row of blonde hairs on each side of it in her crack, Mullin's cock grew an inch or so, swelling full size as he peeled the foreskin back to reveal its fleshy glans.
Suzie felt eerily vacant for a moment when the nightstick clattered to the floor, going weak at the knees and feeling slightly nauseous. When Mullins touched the swollen head of his cock to her puckered anus, she clenched her buttocks on it and humped her back, wanting to give him an impossible entry angle. The big man simply pushed down on her back with one heavy hand to regain access to her crotch and proceeded to rub the head of his giant tool in her still-moist slit.
"Uh ... uh ... uh," Suzie grunted as her labia parted to admit the thing, bracing herself for the worst. But Mullins seemed content for the moment to lodge his oversize cock just within her.
He wiggled his hips a bit to gain lubricity and then, holding her steady with his hands, centered himself again on her cringing anus. She attempted to hold her sphincter firm against the attack, but was able to offer only token resistance: that poor muscle had been so abused that she hindered Mullins not at all and the big man plunged home with one smooth steady lunge. The full length of his cock firmly embedded in her tightly grasping rectum, searing her to the depths of her bowels, Mullins twitched his cock a few times and sighed. The passage had been so loosened that all the girl's clenching and wiggling were delightful to Mullins' cock.
Numbed and confusedshe hadn't known this was something people didSuzie knew only that although this new implement was thicker, it pained her nowhere near so much as the cruel oaken stick. The contact of smooth flesh on her tired, sore passage was not entirely unpleasant in spite of the bloated feeling it gave herbut rage and indignation at the rude exploitation of her body had so built up in the girl that when Mullins suddenly drew out and plunged anew into her tight agonized fanny, she screamed, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" in a high shrill voice.
His movements now slower, Mullins slid his big prick inches in and out of her loosened passage. Whenever the digging prong probed her sensitive depths, she would scream helplessly, "Ahhhhhh!" Her mind was faint from heat and sweat poured from her, while in the background of her young consciousness a strangely expectant, breathless sensation took over as she began to anticipate movement of the huge shaft in her quaking bowels.
Mullins fucked her expanding flesh steadily, and the sweat-drenched girl began humping along without realizing it, her entire body rocking several inches to and fro as she sought friction with the shaft, the slowly massaging organ somehow calming her fright.
The confused girl opened her eyes and with effort focused them for one clear-eyed instant on the tabletop inches from her face. She saw the grains in the dark-stained wood of the tabletop, and as her body moved to and fro, her full breasts pressed into and sliding on the damp wood, the wood grains moved. They seemed to swirl and reminded her of ripples in a smooth-flowing river, the river of her own sensuality which flowed freely into some larger body of water, charting its own course as* it moved. She couldn't control her sensuality. Not only did her pussy act up of its own accord and sometimes take over, but her asshole did too.
This thought, which flashed through the girl's mind in that one clear-eyed instant, was almost too much for her to handle, to cope with. She shut her eyes again and felt herself sinking, sinking mind and body into that free-flowing smooth-rippling river. Mullins' expansive cock churning in her backside compressed and created friction on the other side of that thin wall of flesh: Suzie's pussy began to tingle.
Mullins' shirt became dark-stained with sweat in circles about the armpits. The panting man's hips smacked her ass with each lunge as he fucked with ever-increasing vigor. Half losing his balance, he lurched forward, his big beer belly flattening the girl, pressing her belly and hips and breasts into the table. Suzie thrust her bottom up to meet his lunges. "Oooh!" she grunted as the big cock smacked into her rear. It was still half painful, half stimulating. "Ohh! Ohhh! Oh! Ohhhhhh!" she moaned, gurgling steadily as her ass fucking continued.
Used and humiliated though she felt, Suzie was beside herself with excitement. Crushed though she was, the prick moved in and out of her rectum almost freely. The friction so stimulated her already aroused cunt that incredibly she felt on the verge of coming. Suzie knew that if she could just stick her finger or something
in her pussy, she would cum; the mere thought of it was almost enough, however, because no sooner had she imagined it than her pussy began to throb evermore.
Mullins' movements began to quicken and Suzie sensed that the tight constriction afforded his cock by her asshole was taking its toll. His weight pounded her as he plunged frenziedly in and out of her now lubricated rectum. Suzie heard herself squealing in mingled pain and pleasure as his frantic efforts pierced new depths. He jerked spastically upon her back as hot sperm burst from his prick, rocketing into her pierced fanny.
The thick semen felt soothing to Suzie's lacerated flesh. For an instant she tried to stand on tiptoe and then she managed to fling her hips upward in spite of the big man's weight, upward onto the prick still impaling her asshole while she ground her pelvis lasciviously against the hard table. Lightning bolts coursed through her ... just before reaching the lake the river of sensuality became rapids ... "Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" she cried as convulsions wrenched her. "I'm cum-cumming!" she shrieked, humping her middle up and down as her organs twitched with a maddened force so blinding that it left her senseless. Some minutes later, lying face down on the table where she'd been befouled and degraded, she didn't even hear the "whoosh" when Mullins drew his dwindling pecker out of her constricted fanny. The girl had never known such a climax.
Some time later, maybe an hour, a fat, pockmarked police officer with slits for eyes followed a hagtoothed matron into another overcrowded cell in the women's wing where he looked the prisoners over, giving the selection process great thought, his eyes shifting from breast to buttock to thigh to waist to face, all around the cell before he said, "you," and pointed out a victim to the matron who clapped handcuffs onto the wrists of a quaking Mary O'Gary. When the girl, who had natural trepidations, asked a question of the matron, she growled, "He just wants to ask you a few questions. Now shuddup!"
But the matron, dimwitted though she may have been, had begun to wonder. She had escorted Officer Mullins into three cells now (and twice she had half carried half-dead girls back to their cells) and in each cell Mullins picked out for questioning the clearest-complected, slimmest-waisted, biggest-breasted girl. Did pretty girls with big breasts know more? It was a question the matron had been asking herself all her life.
Once in Mullins' hands, Mary O'Gary received pretty much the same treatment as Suzie had. Mullins asked pretty much the same questions about her political affiliations and never had any suspicion that this pussy he looked at, this cunt he worked to a lather, was the same pussy the sight of which had started the riot.
Furthermore, Mullins had no way of knowing and no reason to suspect, that this particular Pinko Commie rioter happened to be very well connected to the local Establishment. In the morning Superior Court Judge Sean O'Gary drove out to San Rialto Prison Farm in person with a writ of Habeas Corpus he'd signed himself to demand the immediate release of his daughter, having with reluctance stuck to his promise to let his daughter cool her heels overnight "for her own good."
A tearful Mary told her father that she'd been degraded, humiliated, raped in the ass, and described it as well as she was able through choked-back sobs. The judge was doubtful--this was far-fetched but nevertheless took his errant daughter straight to the family physician. Mary by some chance--because she had been too distraught or because she had had liquids for dinner--had not moved her bowels, and when the physician poked his gynecological spectrum into Mary's rectum to have himself a look-see, he found a suspicious residue, a substance which in the lab indeed proved to be human semen. When he looked into her vagina he found that her cervix was discolored and bruised, which was also suspicious. A penis, no matter how tumescent, no matter how rock-hard, no matter with what force it is rammed home, never bruises the mouth of the womb.
CHAPTER FOUR
Waiting for Suzie, Jack stood under a street-lamp on the sidewalk outside her dormitory. He waited around the corner from the main entrance, out of sight of the rifle-bearing pigs who stood guard. The odor of tear gas lingered in the air as an unpleasant reminder of the storm, but the night was very still, so calm it was almost eerie. This street had been shut off to auto traffic and the only sound was the occasional crackle of a walkie-talkie.
Since the riot had started as a result of the invasion of a women's dorm by a small group of male students, and since free access to the women was one of the current demands, some police "strategist" deemed it wise to set up the guard. Not wanting to attract notice to himself by having a pig accompany him to the house telephone and then breathe over his shoulder while he tried to speak to her, Jack had called Suzie from his own dorm and arranged to meet her on the walk in fifteen minutes.
He saw a lone figure approach and, thinking he recognized the swing of familiar hips, he took several steps toward it only to startle an unfamiliar female, who gave him an unusually wide berth. Hostile atmosphere in this town tonight, he thought. A few minutes later, he glanced at an approaching pair of girls without recognizing them until he was spoken to.
"Janet wanted to come to the meeting. I told her you wouldn't mind," Suzie said.
"No, not at all," he said, smiling at her with pursed lips. He hadn't seen her or given her a thought since he and Suzie had together had sex with her. Now, in the back of his mind, he wondered what she thought, but her face was immobile. They walked the six blocks to the meeting, which was to be held at the house of one of Jack's friends, and the purpose of which was to plan the total boycott of classes. The girls chattered to each other, effervescently; they had both brushed their hair and seemed somehow pristine. Jack was still worried about Suzie, who had been raped by the pig just two days before. It seemed to have left her mind. She seemed strangely distant at the moment and, as the girls chattered about trivialities, he found himself wondering if maybe they hadn't just eaten each other out, or something. With that thought he felt unneeded and out of it.
But those feelings left him once they reached the planning session. George had purchased a few jugs of Red Mountain and everyone else had arrived. Besides Ann, George's old lady, Erich and Betty were present, and Larry and Jim had shown. As Jack followed the girls into the room, George, who opened the door to admit them, looked from Janet to Jack and raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Jack in turn shrugged and nodded. They were a tight-knit group and they didn't want any finks among them, but Jack tended to trust girls he'd known carnally, assuming that his feelings of goodwill were reciprocal.
"Hey, Jack," Larry called, "wanna give a little speech tomorrow?"
"How little?"
"The usual. Big enough to do the job."
"I don't know if I'm up to it," Jack said, speaking honestly. He was usually quite up to it. "How about George? Maybe he can do it." "He hasn't volunteered." "I'll warm them up for him." "George?"
"Sure. I'll need some help."
"Have we got leaflets ready?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, Jim's got one all ready to run off." Jim had a mimeograph machine in his basement. "And the Daily Quest will come out with a front-page editorial demanding a complete boycott of classes."
"Partly in protest against pig savagery," someone added. "And inside Tom's going to run two full pages of those pictures you got."
"I thought they were pretty good myself," Jack said. "Best yet." Jack usually turned his photos over to Tom to develop; this time, however, remembering the four on the end of the roll of film, he had insisted on doing them himself, all alone in the darkroom. Those four candid snapshots of Kathy Kimbal were everything he hoped for: in the first the woman was obviously out of her head with passion and in the others she had just as obviously been fucked, the perfect picture of desire sated.
"Some people will insist on going to class anyway. How are we going to bring them into line?"
"Disrupt classes?"
"If you're feeling fleet-footed."
"If they don't have a goddamn pig in every corridor."
"That brings us to a very touchy subject," said Jack quietly. "Pigs. Now we have to figure out what to do about Pig Mullins."
"Pig Mullins?" somebody asked.
"Yes," said George, with a glance at Suzie out of the corner of his eye. "There is a pig who spent the night last Friday in the women's wing down on the farm. This pig molested some of our sisters and was quite nasty about it. When our pig had disappeared into the bowels of the prison with one of his victims, it seems Lieutenant Somebody came into the wing and wanted to know where Pig Mullins was. We're more or less assuming at this point his name is Mullins."
"File a complaint with the American Civil Liberties Union," someone suggested.
"Bullshit."
"What'd he do, anyway?"
"Stripped our sisters naked and worked them over with his nightstick, most unkindly, and that was only the beginning," George said. "A typical pig pervert."
"The Captain'd slap his wrists and tell him not to do it again," someone said. "Obviously, we've gotta off him," someone said tentatively. "Off Pig Mullins for the sisters."
"How?"
"Hey, that's an idea for a manual-"How To Off a Pig"--hell, we could sell it nationwide. Make a little bread." "Okay," George said, "you figure it out."
Throughout this discussion, Suzie had sat looking down at her hands, not daring to look up. So demure was she that most of those present figured out that she was the one defiled. But she couldn't help it. She didn't know Jack had told anyone about it, and certainly hoped that he hadn't told George everything. The whole experience had been so humiliating and degrading, so personal that she didn't want anyone to know about it. She had managed to avoid thinking about it all day.
"How long's Kimbal going to hold out? That's the question," Ann said.
"Not much longer," Jack said. "If he lets the governor send the troops in, things'll get so bloody he'll have to shut the place down for the rest of the year."
"We ought to demand he shut down the university."
"Well, we accomplish that with the boycott of classes, in effect."
"Well, in your little talk tomorrow," Jack said, "stress our nonviolent intentions, and that we have only one basic goal--opening up the dorms. Don't mention sex."
"Yeah, that'll lay it all on Kimbal's doorstep: if anyone else gets his head busted, it's all Kimbal's fault."
"All he's gotta do is ease up on the Victorian dormitory regulations."
"Wait for the TV cameras tomorrow noon," Jack said, "and then say that loud and clear."
Suzie and Janet understandably found the meeting a little disorganized. Everything seemed to be mentioned once and then before it could be fully discussed it was dropped--it was all very hazy to a newcomer, yet there was so much raw energy afloat in the room that it was also dizzying. Would these people actually go out and do everything they said they would?
What the girls had no way of knowing was that this group had planned and executed at least one successful riot per year for the past seven years. The faces had changed; in fact, none of the original group remained. But as the older members went on to graduate schools or jobs or moved to communes in the country, younger members were cautiously taken in. There were no badges and there were occasional dropouts. It was a gradual turnover process, passing the torch from hand to hand, and this was essentially the same elitist group who fomented the Filthy Speakers' Movement in 1964. They all knew what they were doing, having done it before, and did not need to detail their strategy. Through practice and belief they had become adept at their jobs, and in a sense, they were functional revolutionaries.
The jug had made several turns around the room, and with the smell of success in the air; spirits were high,
but the party didn't last long. There was a full day ahead. Jim would be up most the night mimeographing his leaflets and would have to round up leaflets before he could hit the sack. Erich and Betty were going to set up the picket line and had to be up early. Neither Jack nor George had any duties until eleven or so, when they would have to set up loudspeakers. Larry gave Jim a ride home on his Harley, and Erich and Betty moseyed upstairs to their part of the duplex.
George had just taken a long noisy swig of Red Mountain, holding the jug in the crook of his arm, when Suzie asked, "You don't really intend to kill him, do you?"
"Naw," George said, "maybe we'll just steal his nightstick and cut off his balls."
Suzie gulped at the thought, but couldn't help smiling. And then she blushed, hoping Jack hadn't told him that she'd been ... that she had responded to the damned nightstick.
Realizing that they had a genuine ingenue on their hands, George said, "Well, you agree that the man deserves some kind of retribution, don't you?" When Suzie didn't immediately answer, he repeated, "Don't
you!?"
"Of course," she said. "It's just that I hate to see anybody killed."
"Don't fret, honey chile," George said, taking another swig on his jug and then offering it to Jack. "And if you went to the chief pig and told him your tale, do you think he'd believe you?" he added. "No," she said. She couldn't imagine herself telling it again to anyone. "Well, then," George said. "We obviously have to do it ourselves."
George's old lady Ann walked in front of him at that moment and he reached forward to latch ahold of her wrist, pulling her off balance and onto his lap. "Lover boy wants a kiss," he said.
"No!" she said, casting a helpless glance at Janet and Suzie, one of whom was in, and the other on the arm of, an easy chair. But George was insistent, turning her head with both his hands and planting a big wet kiss on her lips. She kissed him back and then, when he began mauling her breasts, she drew back and shoved his hands away.
The girls didn't know what to make of this and if Jack hadn't been grinning broadly, they might have been embarrassed for Ann. To Jack it was a familiar scene. Sometimes when one or two intimate friends were around, George would give her a hassle, half stripping her if he could before she leapt up and ran off, whereupon he'd chase her into the bedroom.
A firm grip on her waist, George bounced his wife on his knee for a moment, and seemed content with that. "Give your honeys some Red Mountain," George said. "Can't have them looking so damn sober. Not on the eve."
"The eve of what?" Ann asked.
"Hell, I don't know," George said. "Hard to say just what'll happen next. On the eve of victory. Or maybe just on the eve of the battle."
"You're a hopeless romantic," Ann said, giggling.
"Next fight might be the last," he said. "Enjoy it while you can." At this, he again clutched her breast, laughing.
She tried shoving him away, but he was far stronger than she. Ann had very thin arms, especially for a woman with such full breasts. She had nursed one child and her breasts had fallen slightly without becoming any the less shapely. She was broad-hipped and had slender legs. She seemed to relax as George massaged her right breast, rolling it around on her rib cage.
Carrying the jug to the girls, Jack moved from where he'd been sitting at the table and leaned against the wall near the easy chair. The three passed the jug back and forth.
When George let go of Ann's breast it jiggled visibly for a moment, from having been dropped, and her erect nipple pressed a point in the material of her blouse. When George worked to undo a button, she pushed at his hands, saying, "No, George! Don't!" But he calmly drew both her hands behind her back and held them there with one of his while he rapidly proceeded to unbutton her.
"Don't, George!" she yelled before he had quite finished, "You'll embarrass our guests!"
"This embarrass you?" George asked, looking up, all innocence.
"Lovin' every minute of it," Jack said.
"Nothing would embarrass you!" Ann said, blushing. "I mean them."
"This bother you?" George asked again, drawing his wife's blouse out of her skirt waist and pushing it back over her shoulders to bare her breasts.
"You have very pretty breasts," Janet said, her voice ringing a little bit loud.
"There, see," George said, bouncing his wife on his knee as he rocked her gently back and forth, which made her breasts both sway and jiggle, her nipples stiff and full and red-brown. "They're not just pretty to look at though," said George. "They're the most goddamn fun breasts to play with in the whole world."
To demonstrate exactly what he meant, George began playing with them. He squeezed one, lifted it, and then let it drop. Eight eyes watched it bounce and jiggle--only eight because Ann had both of hers closed as she blushed furiously and tried to bury her head in George's neck. George kept it up, squeezing one of his wife's teats and then dropping it to go to the other, bending it back and forth to demonstrate how much play it had. And then he began kneading them and running his fingers over her nipples. "Watch this," he said, running his fingertip in rapid circles around one of his wife's tender erect nipples. "This really gets to her."
"Don't!" she wailed.
"Juices her up. She knows it, too," George said. "Stop it! Stop right this minute!" Ann wailed.
Pulling up her skirt, George said, "Now we take a look at her pussy and see if we've done anything for it."
"Oh, no, we won't!" Ann yelled as she began to kick and squirm, her breasts flopping around as she shook her hands free and dashed out of the room, her arms folded over her breasts.
Jack was laughing and the girls were grinning broadly now. Undeniably, it was an amusing sight. With a wink to his audience, George followed Ann into the bedroom, calling back from the door, "If any or all of you want to sack out, you know where the mattress is."
There was a double mattress kept folded double and standing on end on the back porch. If one removed the rickety coffee table from the living room, there was room for the mattress on the floor. Jack had spent the night, most recently, the night before Suzie had been arrested and taken to San Rialto, and that had been their only opportunity for lovemaking since their first night together. And it had been their only night alone together. Jack, as he dragged the mattress through the kitchen, found himself wondering why, inevitably, whenever he participated in a riot he got so goddamn charged-up. Like a goddamn bull. One continuous hard-on. Anyway, he hoped Suzie had recovered from her recent ordeal.
Of course, even were there not the promise of more riot, the prolonged sight of Ann's super-pliant tits would have been enough to send him off. George had been more than a little brazen tonight, even for him. Jack suspected that the riot was having the same effect on him. And possibly on everyone else. The thought flashed through his mind that war might do the same thing to a man, but being a pacifist he would never know.
"Sheets and blankets in the closet," he said, laying the mattress out flat. Without further ado, he took off his clothes. By the time Suzie returned with an armful of covers and Janet from the bathroom, Jack stood stark naked, his prick standing straight out, as erect as it had ever been. He flexed it a few times for benefit of the girls and grinned an elfin grin.
"Ready to go," said Suzie.
"He's got his ticket out," said Janet, giggling.
"It's a booster rocket," said Suzie.
"Countdown," said Janet. "Ten, nine, eight, seven ..."
"You'll have to do more than that to make it go off," Jack said, both threatening and promising, "a whole hell of a lot more."
"You mean there isn't any magic word?"
"There's a lot of magic involved, but no words," he said.
"Listen to this. Now he's saying it's a magic wand!" Janet said.
"Oh, it's capable of a few tricks," Jack said, "or have you forgotten?"
"Well, um, yes," Janet conceded, "I suppose that was a pretty smooth trick, now that you mention it. What else does it do?"
"You'll soon find out," Jack said, taking the covers from Suzie's arms and setting them on the couch. He picked up a sheet and, holding it by one corner, gave it a toss. The three of them tucked it in. Suzie started to
pick up the second sheet, but Jack said, "No, let's romp first. Too many blankets will just get in the way." "He romps with it," Janet said. "I don't know," Suzie said. "I don't know if I can." "Are you sore?" Jack asked.
"Not at you."
"I mean physically."
"Oh," she said. "Yes. Both fore and aft, as they say."
"That's too bad."
"I don't want to be a spoilsport. You can screw Janet. I'll cheer you on."
"How about if we ate your pussy or something?" Jack said, trying not to sound too hopeful. "Could you come if we did that?"
"Well, being sore isn't really the problem," she said. "Oh. What is it?" "I don't know."
"Are you turned off to sex?" he asked, getting worried.
She didn't answer right away. Jack lay down on the mattress and the girls followed; they lay with their heads together, their bodies like spokes of a wheel.
"No," Suzie said finally. "I'm not exactly turned off to it. I'm afraid I'm abnormal--that's my problem." She set her lips in a firm line immediately after speaking, as if to prevent their quivering. Jack could tell that this troubled her deeply.
"I think you're one of the most healthy normal people I've ever met," she said, glancing at Janet out of the corner of his eye, wanting her support. "I think so, too," she said.
"And we both know you intimately," Jack said. "We're in a position to say."
"You don't understand," she said, licking her lips. "You don't understand what that beast did to me. He was as foul a pig you'd ever want to meet. He was one of the dumbest, ugliest mother-fuckers on the face of the earth. Got the picture? And he was a cruel sonofabitch besides. Got it?" she demanded.
"Yeah?" he said cautiously.
"Well, he made me cum!" she said, tears welling up in both eyes. "I hated his guts and he made me cum!" "That's okay. It's perfectly understandable," Jack said. "But he made me want to cum!" she sobbed. "You didn't have much choice," said Janet.
"Sure," said Jack. "You're being fucked, and eventually you find that you want to cum. If you don't, you have some kind of hang-up!"
"I don't think so," she wailed. "Lots of women don't cum all the time!"
"Christ," Janet said. "Jack and you made me cum, and we hadn't even been introduced!"
"But you knew me!" Suzie said.
"Yes, but I was scared shitless of Jack," she said.
Suzie frowned. "I can't help it. I feel freaky. If anyone made love to me now, I couldn't respond emotionally. And with you two, that was the best part."
Jack began to pat her shoulder, thinking maybe that would help, and pretty soon Janet joined in, petting her to make her feel better.
"No, come on, you guys," Suzie said. "You're making me self-conscious. Maybe if you two screwed, I'd calm down."
"Do you think that would do it?"
"Maybe. If Janet pretends she doesn't want to do it, and you made her cum, anyway," Suzie said. "Do you feel like it?" Jack asked.
"Are you able?" she asked, eyeing his limp prick with feigned disgust. "Strip!" he commanded, "And maybe you'll find out."
Without a word, she sat up and began to undress. Suzie looked around the room, then got up and walked to the fireplace. When Janet had pulled her sweater up and was extracting her arms, Jack reached out casually
and with light fingertip teased her nipples erect, setting her ashiver from those tender pouting rosebuds up. She yanked her head free of the sweater and growled deep in her throat.
Eyeing his now semi-erect cock, Janet swooped down on it, bending forward at the waist from where she sat to take it into her mouth in its entirety. Her lips in a tight ring, she pressed it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and had slid her tongue smoothly back and forth on it no more than three times before her undulant strokes made the boy's cock pop stiffly erect. The suddenness of it made her head pop back a good three inches as the organ swelled in her mouth. With a self-satisfied smile and a twinkle in her eye, she said, "Well, that's better now, isn't it?" and stood up to remove her skirt and panties.
"That's just lovely," Jack said.
Suzie returned from the fireplace with a candle taken from the mantle. "We have to use this at first," she said.
When Janet looked at her aghast, Suzie added, "To see if it turns you on."
"If you say so," Janet said, lying down on her side and then, when Suzie approached with the candle, resignedly rolling onto her back and spreading her legs.
Placing her hand on Janet's slit, which was already oozing fluid, Suzie said, "Christ, she's already excited--this isn't going to be much of an experiment."
Nevertheless, Suzie parted her friend's delicate inner lips and touched her at the core with the head of the candle. With a frown, Janet canted her hips to make penetration easier, but when the candle was forced in she nevertheless grunted in pain, "Uhhg!"
Jack watched in rapt fascination. True, he wasn't getting any at the moment, but the sight of the candle sliding eight inches into the straining girl's twat was by no means detrimental to his excitement.
Suzie began to work the candle to and fro, saying "Okay, now tell me what you feel. I gotta know."
"Well... I feel embarrassed," she said. She looked embarrassed. This was a true act of friendship on her part.
"What else?" Suzie asked, as she began to work the candle around in her friend's pussy. "Well, I'm beginning to have second thoughts about having lost my virginity," she said. "Be serious," Suzie said. "I can't," she said. "I can't really think."
Jack thought she looked serious, however. Her lips were parted and she frowned. The tendons in her thighs, widespread as they were, stood out quiveringly for a moment before the speared girl began to rock her pelvis up and down, her buttocks tightly clenched. "Uhhh!" she grunted, throwing her arms back.
"Now what are you thinking!" Suzie demanded.
Janet had begun to bounce on her buttocks as she rocked her pelvis. Jack could smell the musk of her excitement. "I'm thinking," she grunted, "I'm thinking about Jack's cock!"
"Oh," Suzie said, trying to remember if she had thought about Jack's cock when she had been similarly if less kindly diddled. She had been too scared to think of anything.
"Do you want to screw now?" Suzie asked.
"Yes!" Janet yelled, obviously impatient.
Suzie obligingly withdrew her candle, which came out of Janet's tight slick pussy with a soft "whoosh." In an instant, Jack was poised over her, his throbbing cock in his hand. "What were you thinking about my cock?" he asked.
"I was thinking how big and hard it is," the breathless girl said. "I was thinking how soft and clingy the skin is!"
"What do you want me to do with it?" he asked, prolonging the girl's torment, touching his cock to her sopping slit.
"Fuck me! Please!" she cried.
"Do you want to be fucked in the asshole or the cunt?" he asked.
"My cunt!" she cried. "Fuck my cunt now!" And so saying, she thrust her pelvis up at him. Her widespread feet planted firmly on the mattress, she had the leverage to lift her pelvis into the air, clutching his buttocks with her hands, she held him while she wiggled and lifted her hips, grunting in snorts now as she wormed her pussy up onto his thick shaft, lifting her hips maybe a foot into the air, willfully splitting herself in two and
afraid she would faint before her hot slick cunt could stretch to admit it all.
"Aggghh!" Jack grunted in agonized pleasure as her tight hungry cuntmouth ingested his cock. The mouth of her vagina was like a tight rubber washer rolled the length of his cock, a soft, basically slippery ring though, and the head of his cock probed the folded quaking delights within her. Their mats of pubic hair meshed and he felt the tip of his cock strike the end of her foaming channel.
Having totally engulfed him, she seemed to want to relax. She quivered, her belly and leg muscles spasmed, and dropped her pelvis halfway back to the bed, as if she was incapable of further exertion and wanted to pull him down onto her. But he didn't give way. His arms straight, supporting himself on his hands and knees, he held the object of her delight a full foot off the mattress. He wanted her to work for it. He liked her grunting straining. He liked looking down on her to see beads of sweat pour from her body, gathering between her breasts and making her hair stick to her forehead. He liked watching her stomach muscles tense up as she worked to engorge herself on his cock. Most of all, he liked the tight slick washer ring of her cuntmouth as it slid smoothly up and down on the length of his cock, his throbbing-about-to-burst cock.
Touching the mattress only with her head and shoulders and her feet, Janet's body arched and strained to impale itself on Jack's shaft. Her lips and mouth worked as if trying to speak and she panted heavily. Her eyes, wide open, were vacant. In response to Jack's white hot poker, her body was aflame. The lining inside her skull burned and her mouth was dry. She knew that if she didn't explode soon, she would die.
Suzie, lying peacefully beside Janet, reached out to massage her breasts, then squeezed the soft handful of flesh to hold it steady on the panting girl's rib cage in order to focus on one nipple, rubbing it madly with a fingertip, rolling and flicking the sensitized rosebud without letup.
Janet, who had been moving her pussy around on Jack's cock with relative slowness in a steady rhythmic motion, took a deep breath and then took another deep breath before, with her last ounce of energy, she began rotating her pussy upward on the shaft with maddened fury. Sensing that this was the time, Jack ground into her churning overheated cunt, rotating his hips down on her as he felt the whole throbbing quivering sheath of her cunt go taut on his cock, when he banged, banged, banged, his cock pounding into her to knock something loose. It did. Screaming, "Aiiiieeeeee!" with the last of her held-in breath just as Jack gasped, "Ahhhh! I'm cumming!" Janet shuddered convulsively from head to toe as she came, hit with the pent-up spasms of Jack's exploding cock, spurt upon spurt of sperm boiling into her and filling her womb. The shuddering girl somehow managed to hold her convulsing pussy aloft until the last drop of white gold had fired into her before she collapsed, Jack falling upon her in a sweating heap.
Waiting the few minutes it took the spent pair to catch their breath before speaking, Suzie said, "Well, that looked like a memorable fuck." When neither of the pair immediately responded, she added, "Of course, I'm not in the best position to say so."
"Well, I'd say so," Jack said, his chest still heaving slightly.
"Well, I don't know if I'll remember it particularly," Janet teased, "but it sure as hell felt good." "Your turn," Jack said, although at the moment easing his sore dwindling cock out of Janet's no-longer-bubbling but quite-juicy twat, as he was he knew he wasn't quite "up" to it, not quite ready for it, not without further preliminaries, which he was always ready for.
"I don't know," Suzie said. "I don't know if that helped me or not. I mean, I'm glad you two made it together so well, but hell, Janet wanted to, and that's normal. Which goes without saying."
"And you're worried about being made to cum when you don't want to," Jack said, getting it straight.
"Yes, that seems to be my hang-up," she said, resignedly. "It makes me freaky right now, anyway."
Jack rolled this around in his mind for a minute or two. It seemed to him that almost any woman could be made to cum. How could he ever convince this relatively inexperienced girl of his of that fact, he wondered. Why, just a few days before, Kathy Kimbal, wife of the Number One Power on campus, had come without particularly wanting to. She had tried to cool him three times... she had not exactly been eager to engage in the act, and yet President Kimbal's happy young wife had had a real nice cum. And Jack had, in his jacket pocket technicolor evidence of that fact.
With the proverbial ease of a light flashing on, Jack had a cure for Suzie.
"How about if you saw it in person?" he asked. "How about if you watched a woman cum when she didn't
want to? Would that help?"
"I don't know. It might."
"It seems to me that that would make you realize you weren't abnormal. I think it could wipe out your hang-up."
"Where you going to take me to see it? The circus?" she asked, laughing. "This city doesn't exactly have a Reperbahn, you know." "Right here," he said.
"How'll I know she doesn't really want to?" she asked. "Well, I think that'll be obvious enough," he said.
Without bothering to elicit further agreement, Jack picked up the telephone from the end table, fetched the telephone book from beneath the couch, and carried both into the kitchen, the phone cord stretching along after him. When he shut the door, the girls looked at each other with puzzled expressions and shrugged.
Finding the number listed without difficulty, he dialed it, hoping Kathy would answer.
"Kathy?" he said, hopefully, in response to a feminine hello.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"Jack," he said. "Jack who?" she said.
"You met me the other afternoon," Jack said. "We hit it off immediately."
"Is this some kind of prank?" she asked. "I do not recall hitting it off with any Jack the other afternoon."
"I don't know," Jack said. "I thought we hit it off"pretty well. We had sexual intercourse in your parlor maybe half an hour after we saw each other for the first time. I mean, maybe you do that all the time whether you hit it offer not. I don't know much about your personal... "
"Okay. Okay," she said. "I remember. You don't have to get wise."
"I suspected you would," he said.
"I'd prefer to forget," she said.
"Not so soon," he said.
"The sooner the better," she said. "Just a moment." "Don't run off."
"Just give me a minute," she said. Kathy had begun to shake and broke into a cold sweat. This boy, he sounded so hostile and she had no idea what he expected of her. All she knew was that she had better try to humor him, and she went to the door of the bedroom, craning her ear to try to tell if the bathroom shower was on or not. It was. But she knew Tom would finish soon. She shut the bedroom door. "Okay," she said. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come see me," he said.
"I won't," she said.
"You'd better," he said.
"I can't," she said. "And I wouldn't if I could. What do you want?"
"I want to see you, and you can and will come. I'll give you fifteen minutes."
She laughed. This was preposterous. The chuckle forming in her throat calmed her nerves. "What makes you think so?" she asked, her tone communicating that she thought he was being silly. "Well," Jack said. "For one thing, you've got the hots for me." Kathy stifled a laugh which came out as a nasal snort. "And I've got some beautiful color pictures of you to prove it." A chill shot down Kathy's spine; she had forgotten ...
"One of them shows you finger-fucking yourself when your lover is late. Others show that your lover came after all," he said. "No pun intended."
"What about them?" she asked, holding her breath.
"One thing that could happen to them is that they could be published tomorrow morning," he threatened, "and I think we could come up with a suitable headline." Kathy gasped. This could destroy Tom!
"Who knows?" Jack said. "It might be just what it'll take to make the administration back down."
"Where do you want me to meet you?" she asked, her heart popping into her throat when, no sooner were
the words out of her mouth, her husband opened the door behind her.
"The corner of C and Hickory," Jack said. "In no more than fifteen minutes." "Okay," she said, somewhat hesitantly.
"Okay, I'll be waiting on the southeast corner," he said, hanging up.
"Okay, okay, Emma," Kathy said into the dead receiver, her mind forming a hasty plan. "I'll be over soon." "Who was that," Tom asked, "calling at this hour?"
"Oh!" Kathy said, pretending to be startled. "That was Emma Doudy. She seemed upset and wanted me to come talk to her. She didn't say what it was."
"That's odd," he said. "Did she mean right now?"
"Yes. Yes, she did."
"Does she know it's after midnight?"
"Don't get surly," she said. "A friend in need... "
"It's fine with me," he insisted.
"I'm sure it is," she said pointedly. Tom had really been awfully surly to her the past few days. She knew part of it was the riot, a riot did not exactly put him in a pleasant frame of mind. But she was unable and unwilling to fool herself into thinking the riot was all of it. She knew her failure in bed accounted for some of his barbs. She had a few days ago been anxious for an opportunity to prove to him that she was no longer frigid. But he'd been terribly cold that way, and now her confidence was leaving her. Jack, however, did not personally play any role in the waxing and waning of her confidence; she was absorbed, rather, in the physiological reactions of her own body.
Her mind rushed in a panic with the revving of the warming car engine, but when she engaged the gearshift and pulled onto the street she began to think in calmer fashion. She recalled every impression she could of Jack, the boy who, for a while the other afternoon, had touched her sympathy, and who had then taken advantage of her. Kathy knew this was not the modern views--he knew she had gotten something out of it, too, and thus in a sense had not been taken advantage of yet she had not wanted to participate. At any rate, she tried to put together her separate and dimming memories of the boy to come out with some conception of him as a whole, and in the process she discovered one thing: she did not believe him. She did not believe that he would actually publish those photographs of her. He did not seem to be the type. He was a radical, admittedly, but not the sort who would stoop to such things.
She told him as much. When she walked up to him, where he stood in the shadow of a tree on the corner, before he had a chance to speak she held out her hand, saying, "Give them to me."
"Ho, ho, ho," he laughed. "Not just yet."
"You don't scare me," she said.
"Ma'am," he said, "I have better things in mind than scaring you." "No," she said. "I mean about publishing the pictures. You wouldn't." "What makes you think so?" "You're not the type. I'm sure of it."
"A-hah!" he said. "Making an attempt to appeal to my better nature. I see through you." "No, I'm serious. You make me think of a young, rutting bunny rabbit, but not of a beast. You're not a beast. You seem to have some sensitivity. You're not a Nazi." "True," he said, "I'm a Jew."
"I could let you keep the pictures," she said, "but after this I'd probably be more comfortable if you gave them back to me."
"I didn't take them from you. I simply took them."
She laughed. "You're right, I guess. I feel that I gave them to you in the sense that I gave you the opportunity to take them--rather than turning you over to the police--but now I want them."
"You might be right about me, lady," Jack said, "under normal circumstances. I mean, I don't intend you any harm or anything like that. But these aren't normal conditions. You see, there's this girl I'm very fond of. I care about her. I care what happens to her. Anyway, because of ..." Jack's voice shook, the prospect of Suzie's being permanently screwed up over this being unbearable, "because of your husband's obstinacy, among other things maybe, a goddamn pig raped her out at San Rialto the other day."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Kathy said, "but it's a little extreme to blame it all on my ... "
"Look!" Jack said, his voice strained, "my point is that the girl was damaged, see, and that shakes me up. The point is that there's no telling what I'll do. I just might publish those pictures."
"I see," Kathy said, chewing on her lip. "How do I figure into this?"
"You'll see. I want your cooperation."
"You want me to speak to my husband?"
"No, I don't care if you ever speak to your husband."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want you to do everything I say for the next hour or so. Okay?" "What if I don't?"
"You will be embarrassed, and we'll get your husband's head." "What are you going to try to make me do, though?" "Oh, nothing you haven't done before."
"I see," she said, knowing what he was after, if not how it would possibly help the girl. "Do you promise?" "Pretty much."
Kathy was becoming slightly frightened again. "I don't have to do this, you know. I can go to the nearest phone, call the police, and have you arrested for blackmail. You can run, but you won't dare show your face on campus. I'm sure an activist like you must have an arrest record, and I'm equally sure that I can identify you from a mug shot."
"My, my."
"And if you threaten to publish the pictures anyway, we can have the entire issue of the Daily Quest seized at the printers."
"Lady, two things. First, you couldn't make it stick. Second, if you even try, I guarantee that many people will see the pictures, and if I'm arrested because I'm blackmailing you with them, they and their subject matter will become newsworthy, and we'll get your husband's head, anyway."
"I can have you murdered."
Jack guffawed. "You're not the type, and we both know it."
Kathy did not want to cause Tom to lose his job and she did not want to become embroiled in a police manhunt with possibly disastrous personal consequences. "Nothing I haven't done before," she said. "I haven't done much, you know."
"I take it back then."
"You can't..." she began to object.
"Keep quiet and come along," he said. "I'm tired of talking."
Her hands were in the pockets of her coat, which was buttoned from her knees to her neck. Jack took her arm and walked her down the sidewalk. Midway down the block, they turned into a yard, went up the steps, and into the downstairs' apartment of a duplex.
Jack led her into the living room. Kathy, seeing the naked girl lying on her side on one edge of a mattress, and the other girl, this one blonde, sitting in an easy chair, became very dubious about the whole adventure. The scene seemed sordid to her.
"Kathy..." Jack began.
"No!" Kathy yelped, and then when Jack frowned, she said, "Don't tell them who I am!" her voice a whisper.
"If you cooperate," Jack said. "Uhhh," she grunted, noncommittally.
"Kathy, Suzie, Janet," Jack said. "I guess that's all we need to know."
The three said hello, cordially if quietly, none of them knowing what to expect.
"We'll be more comfortable if we all take off our clothes," Jack said, and when Suzie shot him a quizzical look, he motioned her up with his hand. "No!" Kathy said.
Suzie stood up, pulled her sweater off over her head, unzipped her skirt, and in one swoop pulled both it
and her panties down. She was naked. She scratched her left nipple for a moment and sat back down. A moment later, Jack was likewise naked, his trim young body casting a giant shadow on the wall, a shadeless lamp having been set nearby on the floor.
Kathy had glanced at Suzie's lithe young form with its exuberant breasts and slender thighs with a touch of envy, and then had looked down at her feet, her hands in her pockets.
"Undress," Jack ordered.
"Why?"
"Because I say so."
To tell the truth, Kathy was feeling a bit self-conscious now with her clothes on, and she unbuttoned her coat with one hand, top to bottom. Then she paused and stuck her hand back into her pocket. "What do you plan to do to me?" she asked. "Are you going to use me in some unnatural way?"
"No, we're all going to watch you have a climax--nothing unnatural about it."
"That's right, this is the free sex group," she said, disgustedly, "all having public climaxes in sordid apartments." Her cheeks were flushed, her anger and obstinacy quite evident. "You're going to scream joyously when you cum!" Jack said. "I doubt it," she said, looking around as if bored. "I seriously doubt it." "You'll eat your words, or someone you know is going to lose his head," Jack said.
Kathy started visibly at this reminder of their purpose (her purpose), but nevertheless asked, "And how's this supposed to, uh ... repair damage to anyone?"
"You're a demonstration in feminine psychology," he said.
"Oh," she said, after a moment's thought, "so you've been baiting me?"
Jack had indeed been baiting her and she had risen to it admirably, as far as he was concerned. "Maybe," he said. "But now I'm going to strip you."
"Sounds more like a demonstration in feminine anatomy," she said as Jack approached.
Kathy flinched when Jack put his hands on her waist under her coat, but rather than unbuttoning her dress right away, he hugged her and nibbled at her ear, whispering, "Look, you're a gorgeous hunk of woman and you turn me on. Besides that, I really like you. I won't hurt you and you won't have any regrets. You don't have any choice, anyway."
With that, he drew back and smiled a supercilious smile. It was a smile which, although Kathy had been comforted by his quietly whispered words, chilled her.
His hands, out of sight within her loose coat, went to her buttocks where they drew her dress up. Jack kissed her full on the lips, as his hands slid within her pantyhose and grabbed handfuls of her fleshy womanly buttocks. She opened her mouth to his prying tongue and even though she remained uneasy about the as yet unknown manner in which she would be used, her tongue flicked at his.
He bore down on her, crushing her mouth and nearly wrenching her jaw, giving her no respite from his kiss, refusing to let her come up for air as he pulled her tightly against him, using the tightly squeezed buns--like loaves, he thought of her wobbly womanly ass to hold her steady as he ground his pelvis into hers, her knees parting as he forced his between.
His hand bulged her pantyhose from her crotch as it slid from her buttocks into her dank center; her pussy had already begun to drip its moist evidence of unwilled arousal. His middle finger smeared the evidence up and down her tender slit, juicing her further before he dipped into the honey-pot itself, his finger probing the unresisting folds of her vagina.
Kathy's head reeled and she felt herself sinking, her body going limp and sinking, and she hung onto Jack for support, her thighs pressing his as she began to hump her pelvis at him. Jack held her for a minute, both hands in her crotch and his wrists supporting her buttocks, before sinking to his knees. Weak-kneed herself, she followed him to her knees, and when he pushed her gently to her side, she fell onto the mattress.
He turned her onto her back, lifted her skirt, took hold of her pantyhose at the waist and peeled them off. She cooperated, pulling her feet out of them when he had them to her ankles. As he stood looking down on her, her knees parted and slightly raised, her cunt lips glistening juicily in the midst of her jet black muff, he said, "You know, Kathy, you're a goddamn easy turn-on. You're easy!"
His tone, which was vicious, brought her to her senses. Looking up to find both girls staring at her
nakedness, Kathy sat up and pulled her skirt down, her heart beating wildly. "Lie back down and spread your legs," he said. "It ain't over yet." "Oh, yes, it is," she said. "You've had your fun for the day."
"No," he said. "You don't know how easy you really are. I'm going to make you cum."
"That's a laugh."
"Laugh all you want. Some people have the ability to laugh at possible disaster, even personal disaster," he said, reminding her that her capability to resist was limited, that she had no choice but to cooperate physically. "Now lie back and spread your legs," he commanded. She did as bade.
"Wider. Okay now, play with your pussy." "Do you insist?" Silent, he pursed his lips.
Shutting her eyes and sighing inwardly, Kathy raised her skirt to once again reveal her shiny black pubis and still-moist delicacies. Her naked lips were wrinkled and slightly puffed. Tentatively, she touched her pussy. Her heart flip-flopped. Not knowing what else to do, she ran her fingertips up and down her slit. She opened her eyes and looked at them, the three of them watching her, and felt hollow inside.
"Put more into it," Jack said. "Use both hands."
Despairing utterly, Kathy Kimbal bit her lip and did as she was told. She strummed her pussy with the fore- and middle fingers of each hand, the third finger of each hand holding and spreading the hair-covered outer lips, giving the other fingers more room to strum. Her jerky fingers almost tore at her parted sensitive lips as the three watched the juice bubble out of her cunt. What was this woman doing? What was this fully developed woman doing, masturbating herself in front of three children?
"Finger-fuck yourself," Jack commanded.
If Kathy had slowed down to think, she might have stopped, period. She would have been unable to bring herself to do it. Accordingly, no sooner had Jack spoken than the three saw Kathy begin to probe her vagina with two fingers, her other hand going to her clitoris, diddling it as she whipped her vagina to a froth. The tendons in her thighs quivered and then her legs and buttocks all began to jiggle as, unconsciously, she began to bounce her hips.
Kathy felt the inner spring going tight. She knew she would shatter in a moment. Her hips stopped moving and her nostrils quivered as she took a deep breath before saying, coolly, "Isn't that enough now?"
He nodded and Kathy sat up, her mouth grim, her cheeks flushed, and a tear forming in the corner of each eye. After helping her out of her coat, Jack motioned to the girls, who looked at each other and then came forward to help undress Kathy, who had risen to her knees.
Jack unzipped her dress and Kathy held her arms over her head as the two girls pulled it off. When Jack unfastened her brassiere, Kathy leaned forward and drew its cups from her breasts as the girls drew the straps down her arms. Before Kathy could cover herself, which, reflexively, she started to do, Jack, kneeling behind her, his body flush with hers and his chin on her shoulder, seized her, grabbing both of her wobbly womanly breasts from behind: Kathy took a quick deep breath, her eyes blinking shut again.
"That's a nice pair of titties," he said, jiggling them.
The girls murmured their approval as Jack, holding each breast high on Kathy's rib cage, rubbed her nipples until they stiffened, swelling with blood and elongating. He pointed an excited nipple at each girl, smiling. Janet and Suzie glanced at each other, smiled in guilty knowledge, and each seized a proffered nipple in their mouth, clamping their mouths onto those tender bits of flesh quite suddenly and sucking greedily. Kathy moaned audible, "Ohhhh!"
Jack rocked back on his knees to view the sight of his girl friends both gobbling at Kathy's chest and running their hands, over her body as the woman quivered. Jack's cock stood achingly stiff. He stood and walked around to the front of the menage. Kathy's tears had dried on her cheeks and she breathed baitedly through parted lips. Working his way between the suckling girls, Jack applied the reddened tip of his swollen penis to the woman's lips. When he pressed, she opened her mouth but did not strain to take him into her, rather waiting passively to receive him. Jack pressed his hands to the back of her neck and drew her waiting mouth onto his cock, then began rolling her head from side to side. At first she was still, but she began to
move her tongue, gently but then with more fervor. It was getting to her, but Jack remembered his promise to make her cum, and realized that he most likely wouldn't have a great many more opportunities to fuck Kathy Kim-bal.
"Okay, let's fuck," he said, drawing his hips back.
The girls unhanded Kathy, backing away as the woman opened her eyes on Jack's huge saliva-covered cock, just in front of her nose, and then looked away silently.
"Come here," Jack said, laying back and flexing his cock a few times. Kathy stood hesitantly, took the three steps across the mattress to him, and looked down nervously. Impatient, Jack reached up, grabbed her hips, and brought her down. Straddling him, the woman squatted and fumbled for his cock; when she grasped it, she centered its throbbing head on her cunt and sat down on it. She was tense with her own arousal and somewhat weak-kneed. She impaled herself on it all at once and her spine stiffened as she gasped for breath.
Her pussy was primed just right. Grunting from the suddenly engulfing hot warmth, Jack gave her cunt several rapid thrusts which left her quivering and gave her a thirst for more. Still at a difficult squat, Kathy began to raise and lower herself, almost bouncing as she moaned, "Ahhh! Uh. Ahhhh! Uh. Ahhh!" with each bounce, her body shuddering.
Kathy lowered her knees to the mattress and began to rock up and down more rhythmically, squirming delightedly as her sopping overheated quim sheathed and unsheathed Jack's tantalizingly stiff, wonderfully probing cock.
Janet knelt and began to suckle again. In the back of his mind, Jack thought, My God, she's obsessed with other women's tits. But he slid his hand under the kneeling girl's buttocks and his finger slid neatly into her once-fucked snatch. Every time he thrust his hips to grind himself into the pussy milking him from above, he thrust his finger with equal force into Janet's quim. Janet put more zing into her suckling.
With his free hand, Jack patted Suzie's thigh to draw her attention from Kathy's writhing, pumping body. Seeing what he wanted, Suzie scooted her hips closer to him and lifted her leg so that he could put his hand in her snatch, too. Probing in the midst of her blonde hairs, Jack found that her pussy was likewise moist and pulsating, which pleased him without particularly surprising him.
Kathy had been on the verge of exploding for a long time. She had thought, this is dirty, several times and maybe that had kept her from exploding, but now, as she helplessly engorged herself on this rubbery hard shaft and as this girl feverishly worked on her tits, she knew her pride was a lost cause. And having resigned herself to humiliation of a kind--as she saw it--her body's central nerve poised for a somersault, she worked for release. Her head spinning, she locked her wound-up cunt on Jack's probing prick and ground onto the monstrous shaft and felt herself go white-hot.
"Aiiieeeeee!" she screamed, trying to hold still but failing with the successive waves washing over her as her heart stopped momentarily, "I'm cumming!"
"Agghhh!" Jack moaned, feeling the shuddering shots leave his own body, his thrusting cock bursting as he sent semen into her, his hands thrusting at two other pulsating cunts as the one in the middle locked onto him and milked him. Jack's one worldly thought at that moment was, Pussy! The world is full of pussy!
Kathy, no longer able to hold her own, fell forward onto him, her sweaty tits hitting his chest with smacks. Jack felt warm and content; he wouldn't have minded going to sleep just then.
But both Janet and Suzie had been worked up by the sight of the fuck if not by Jack's fingers, which had indeed been positioned to work them up, and they were onto each other in an instant. At first, catching it out of the corner of his eye, Jack couldn't tell who was onto whom, since they were a tangle of arms and legs.
Jack rolled Kathy off him, foregoing for the moment the pleasure of having her tits crushed against him, and when Kathy looked up, her mouth fell open, aghast. By then Jack had determined that it was Janet who was on Suzie. She had Suzie's doubled-back legs pinioned under her arms, Suzie's yellow-crested snatch spread wide with her thumbs, and she gobbled lasciviously at the pink-red delicacies at its center, slurping noisily as she lapped up every drop of fluid that poured from Suzie's cunt. While Suzie had her arms around Janet's hips, hanging on tightly, since Janet's hips were high in the air and waggling, her knees several feet apart on the mattress and her back flopping in involuntary humping motions as Suzie ate feverishly at her twat, jaws stretched wide to cover it all, nose smack against her anus.
Janet kept scooting her knees back, inch by inch, seeming to want a firmer deeper bite of Suzie's sopping
snatch, and Suzie clung to Janet's hips for dear life, her face positively buried in the girl's crotch. They slowly moved across the mattress. Were their passion not so raw, their act might have had comic overtones. But they were overtones lost on Jack, who, having always wanted to see this, thought only, Wow! Wow! and likewise lost on Kathy, who edged closer and closer to the girls, the better to see.
Jack noticed a movement in the bedroom doorway and looked over to see George standing wide-eyed and scratching his head. Their eyes met and they both shook their heads in bewonderment, smiling incredibly. Passion creates happiness, and also at times unhappiness; uninhibited lascivious-ness, always a wonder to behold, creates apprehension in some hearts but in the end always produces joy. George went into the bedroom to rouse his wife, and soon both stood in the doorway.
Both maddened girls murmured lustily and gurgled deep in their throats, with their tongues trying to touch each other at the quick of their beings, each assaying to obtain the perfect impossible response from the center of the other and, from appearances, succeeding. Janet alternately probed Suzie's passion pit, licking her cuntmouth clean with an unbelievably outstretched tongue, then backed off to suck slurpingly at her puffed labia and clitoris, while Suzie hung onto Janet's hips and engulfed her quim in a long sucking bite, never letting up.
Janet, the soft underside of her tongue swishing over Suzie's clitoris, flicked at her friend's vaginal folds with the breath of her tongue, her hands bearing down on the backs of Suzie's doubled-back legs as if trying to split her in two. Suzie's body convulsed. Jerking spasmodically at the knees, looking like she was kicking at the air, as her spine began to twitch and her pussy contract, Suzie threw her head back for one long instant to belch, "Aiiieegggh!" before clamping her mouth onto Janet's pulsating pussy with a deep intake of breath and began whipping her head from side to side as if trying to pull Janet inside out.
Crying, "Ooof! Arghhh! Yeow!" Janet whipped her back, tightly held though it was, and lifted first one buttock and then the other as she rolled from side to side, and seemed to want nothing more than to shake Suzie off. But she spread her legs to their utmost and reared up, Suzie's head hitting the mattress as she continued to gobble and tear at her friend's twitching cunt. Janet's partly reared torso shuddered, her smallish yet pliant breasts bouncing as she screamed, "That's it! That's it! I'm ... I've ..." and then collapsed, her body sagging visibly as she rolled to the side.
The audience was speechless for a good three or four minutes, each knew what the other felt and it wasn't necessary for anyone to speak.
"Well, I've got to hand it to you, Jack," George said, drawling it out.
Jack looked at him, puzzled, thinking he ought to hand it to Janet and Suzie.
"You've one-upped Moses," George said, his eyes going to Kathy who, delightfully naked, lay on her side with her head in her hand, like Goya's The Naked Maja, "All Moses got was loaves and fishes." Jack laughed.
"Christ, I leave you to go to bed with two women, thinking, that guy's got something on the ball, and then I come out and find you with three!"
"Allow me to introduce you," Jack said, rising to the occasion, his voice indicating to Kathy that he would tell all, "George, this is the wife... "
"Don't!" Kathy squealed.
"Well," Jack said. "I guess she doesn't want you to know who she is very peculiar lady, this but she'll let you fuck her if you want to."
George's cock, which had risen to great proportions during the performance, showed no sign of flagging, a manifest impossibility with so much naked and unfamiliar woman flesh on display in his living room. "That's her trip, is it?" he asked, looking to his wife for approval.
Ann, clad in a flannel bathrobe, raised her eyebrows and shrugged.
"Fuck her in the ass," Suzie piped up.
"Now that might be interesting," Jack said.
George, holding his stiff pecker thoughtfully with one hand, looked to Ann for approval again, and this time she shrugged with a funny little smile.
"If you make her cum," Jack said, "and we'll give you plenty of help, I'll tell you who she is."
"No!" Kathy said.
"Of course we'll make her cum!" George said. "It would be impolite not to."
Kathy, who had sat up while being discussed and offered, looked at Jack fearfully when he approached. Her mind was aswim with objections. First, it was just plain dirty, being fucked in the ass. Second, watching the young girls sixty-nine, she had become untowardly excited again. Third, she feared she had no resistance left... it had been broken down so many times recently.
Jack guided her over onto all fours on the mattress, then pushed her to her elbows and nudged her knees apart: her hips were higher than her shoulders and the sight she presented was of her backside. An intimate view of her backside it was, too, her fleshy womanly ass-cheeks parted to reveal the tightly puckered ring of her anus and, just beneath it, the moistly wrinkled lips of her sex, the hairs on either side parting, stuck down with her cum and Jack's. What was this grown woman doing? Had she no pride? Biting her lips, Kathy realized that indeed her pride had left her, pride of the kind she had always insisted on in sexual matters, tied up as it was in modesty and inhibition. She had to admit to herself that she was excited and these kids were staring at her naked excited pussy--and yet she was not embarrassed. After the display of feminine sex she had just witnessed, how could she be embarrassed?
Without further urging, George knelt behind her and right away lubricated his cock in the moist folds of her actively lubricating pussy, nudging the tip of it in and holding her steady by the hips to work it around a bit. Kathy realized that her nipples were stiffening and, as her body swayed, they brushed against the bed sheet, her soft breasts dangling full length. She knew she was excited and yet tried to steel herself against what was to come, knowing she had to.
When George applied the slippery glans of his penis to her anus, she tried not to resist, knowing that would hurt, yet when he plunged forward with a good stiff poke, lodging well inside her rectum, she squealed,
"Oyiii!"
With gentle nudges, George worked all the way in, widening her and splitting her while she grunted nasally, pain searing her while she thought, this is dirty this is dirty. George wiggled his hips a bit, but she was still much too tight to allow him to move with ease.
His hands on her shoulders, George suddenly pulled Kathy upright. She squealed, his tightly lodged cock probing her bowels indecently.
George fell back onto his back and kicked his legs out. Nausea churning her stomach, Kathy followed, pulled along by the great plug in her bowels. So tightly lodged was George that he could have stood up and walked around and Kathy would have no choice but to prance on tiptoe ahead of him, squealing wildly.
But as she lay faceup atop him, his knees between hers, forcing them widely apart, George held her by the shoulders to keep her ass shoved down on his cock, and began to rotate his hips, thrusting a little bit more with each rotation. Kathy broke into a cold sweat, not knowing quite what was happening to her body, but by the time George was able to slide in and out her tight rectum with apparent ease, she was panting heavily, her erect nipples dancing as her chest heaved.
Ann had taken a position between her husband's ankles and watched with interest as his cock churned in and out of Kathy's rubbery stretched anus. Jack, kneeling beside her, noted that she seemed as enraptured by Kathy's moist cunt as by her husband's familiar cock and balls. He lay his hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Go ahead. Eat it."
She shook her head, mouthing, embarrassedly, "I can't."
Jack bent forward past her and lapped at the juice seeping from Kathy's cuntmouth, sucking for a moment on her labia before rocking back and, his hand on the back of her neck, giving Ann a big, wet, slurpy French kiss, his tongue probing her mouth to make her taste it, taste Kathy's womanly musk. Ann licked her lips, a perplexed smile fleeting across her face. While she thought about it, Jack reached into her robe and lifted out her breasts, massaging them and arousing her nipples. They smiled at each other with silly smiles.
Jack drew back out of the way and gave Ann a gentle nudge forward. She bent and gave Kathy's quim a tentative lick, then another before she opened her mouth to French it. When Jack drew her robe back over her shoulders, she helped get her arms out, then undid her belt so Jack could toss the garment aside.
Ann now knelt much as Kathy had a few minutes before, head low and hips high, her knees apart to display her quartered sex. Wide-hipped and thin-legged with exaggerated hollows between her thighs, Ann's quim seemed incredibly naked. Jack cupped it to find that it had begun to emit its own musk, moistening his
palm.
He wanted to fuck her and, from the way she held herself and had begun to lather, he knew she wanted to be fucked. He knew he'd never forgive himself if he didn't and furthermore that she would forever resent it, thinking herself scorned, if he failed to take the opportunity. Unfortunately, he only had a semi hard-on. The fucks were coming one right after the other, a bit quickly even for him.
After a moment's thought, he crawled around to the other end of the menage and straddled Kathy, his buttocks resting on her collarbone as he lifted her head. She opened her mouth to him, not merely to receive him this time but to clamp onto his half-aroused pecker, holding it firmly yet gently between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, her lips in a tight ring. Closing her eyes, she began to suck it, working her mouth around on it with such grace that it immediately responded. If he had not held her firmly by the back of the neck, her head would have popped back; as it was, his stiffening pecker forced its way past her uvula and into her throat. Her nostrils dilating as she breathed, she began to suck with ever-increasing vigor. When he thought she had begun to enjoy it, having had the obeisance he wanted, he withdrew.
He stood, his prong wobbling between his legs, and quickly walked to the other side of the mattress to find that Janet had scooted on her back up between Ann's wide-spaced knees, her naval directly beneath Ann's now-sopping pussy. Her face between Ann's pendulously dangling breasts, she sucked one well-developed nipple and kneaded the other of those remarkable mounds.
Jack noted that Ann had really gotten into it, her nose buried in Kathy's jet black muff as her wide-open mouth worked over the woman's all too vulnerable pussy. With one hand, she held her husband's balls, massaging them gently.
Suzie moved over to the fucking, sucking group and began to caress Kathy, running her hands lightly over the helpless woman's flanks, her taut-muscled belly, her breasts, and armpits, all the while keeping her eyes on her face, knowing she was going to cum. George's hand went out of sight in Suzie's snatch.
Straddling the supine Janet as he knelt behind Ann, his prick throbbing mightily, Jack had a giddy, heady sensation: this was the most free-spirited, marvelous scene he'd ever participated in.
Jack pulled, stretched Ann's labia apart with his thumbs and nuzzled the broad head of his cock into her drooling cunt. He nudged easily until she had sheathed him entirely and his loins were flush with her buttocks, then nosed his cock around in her for a moment, making her acquaintance, so to speak, as he loosened her up.
For a moment, her vagina seemed all too loose, and then he drew out and he nearly fainted with delight: she constricted her cuntmouth into a tight ring on his cock, nearly squeezing the bejesus out of him before he lunged in again, whereupon she relaxed the muscle to allow his sensitive glans to freely strike and push aside the folds of her cunt. He realized she had control over it as if she had consciously exercised this muscle. She continued to open to him when he entered and to squeeze the evil out of him when he made his backstroke.
Crying, "Whoopeee!" Jack slapped her ass, slapping each helpless cheek vigorously as he lunged in and out her with vehemence and fury, belaboring her backside and jostling her whole body. She began to eat Kathy's throbbing pussy with greater urgency, her head rotating in circles as she urged her on ... on ...
Kathy began rotating her hips, grunting audibly as Suzie seized and rolled her nipples and George smoothly skewered her rectum, hitting the depths of her bowels with his giant churning cock. Beneath her, he raised his head to bite her neck, wanting to give her a giant rabbit bite to take home to hubby.
Kathy kept thinking, this is dirty, all of it, none of it's normal, I'm sinking into filth! But she was a woman totally turned on, totally vulnerable to her own sensations, and the dirtier she thought it was, the more it enflamed her.
Knowing, sensing that the helpless woman was on the verge, Suzie squeezed her breasts and said, "Cum...
Cum!"
"Yess!" she moaned. "Oh yess! Yess! I'm almost..." and then she felt sperm bubble into her lacerated rectum, boiling into her and soothing her while George hammered at her, hammering and exploding. A spring in Kathy broke. Her entire body began to shudder as she ground her ass down onto George to take every jolt and then ground her cunt up into his wife's face, feeling herself set adrift, soaring as she yelled, "Aiiieeeee! Aiiiieeee! Aiiiiieee!" George making the whole group rock from side to side with the fury of his thrashings, yelping, "Arghh!" through his clenched teeth.
Ann, feeling Kathy's orgasm in her mouth and the contractions of her husband's balls in her hand, arched
her back and relaxed that superbly developed muscle for a minute to let Jack thrust freely into her own pulsing vagina, to be ravaged, rammed, hammered, before she thrust her hips back and clamped herself around the base of his cock for good, holding his twitching cock well into her constricted pussy as she ground it onto him and gurgled, "Kee-rist! I'm going off!" and then, urging him on, she screamed, "Fuck! Fuck hard! Yeoww!
I'm... I'm... "
God knows Jack tried to fuck hard: butting her, he feared she'd pull his cock out by the root, that that bite of her cuntmouth would pull the skin from his cock. Sperm exploded from his cock as it began to thrash, and the thrashing nerves shot up his spine to his throat, constricting it and locking his jaw as he moaned softly through clenched teeth, "Eeee-uh."
Ashes, ashes, they all fell down, having played ring around the rosey and stored away their pocket full of poseys. They fell away from each other, breathless and ruminant, cocks dwindling and trailing cum as they popped out of sockets with audible "whooshes." But before a minute had passed, Suzie spoke up, saying, "Wow! That was something!"
Agreement was unanimous; everyone chimed in, murmuring assent. Each patted himself on the back as well as everyone else. It was a good way to be. They all felt, without speaking directly of it, that something had happened here, that barriers had fallen away and broken down. Life's possibilities had been stretched and as a consequence, each was more alive.
George did not think to ask who this woman was, since at the moment he took her at face value and her husband's identity seemed irrelevant. Kathy remembered to mention the fact of the pictures to Jack, and he quietly gave them to her. She was so discombobulated, however, that she did not think to ask for the negatives. Which Jack did not have with him, anyway. And which he would never use to distress her, anyway.
CHAPTER FIVE
Full of dread, Suzie stood outside the station house as the swing shift filed by in twos and threes. Although she stood to the side, so many pigs so nearby gave her the willies. Some of them did not look like bad men; she could not imagine them going home to beat their wives. She wanted to see them as persons, but her place and situation forbade it basically. She looked carefully, scrutinizing each man with one swift glance, only half hoping she would see the one who had known her in the Biblical sense, reputed to be one Pig Mullins.
Within twenty-four hours Larry had found out that there was a Mullins on the swing shift, that he was not permanently assigned to the prison farm and had been lent to the sheriffs department for a few days, and that the swing shift got off at midnight. Within another twenty-four hours, a plan for revenge had been hatched. It had been pointed out to Suzie that the need for revenge went beyond her and the wrongs done her: her complicity was essential to the plan.
She spotted him the minute he stepped through the door and onto the asphalt drive. He was thick-er-waisted than most men and she recognized his swagger. As he approached, she took a step forward into the lamplight.
Recognizing that someone wanted to speak to him and that it was a pretty, young girl, Mullins paused, thumbs hooked in his belt. He did not identify her until he had given her an acute once-over and she had begun to speak.
"I, I just wanted to speak with you a minute," she said, cursing herself for stammering. "What about?" he asked suspiciously.
"I was hurt by what you did to me, and I wanted to make some kind of human contact with you," she said. "I, I thought that then I might be able to understand why."
"I think you want some more of my cock," he said leeringly. "That's the kind of hu-man con-tact you want."
"No," she said. "I want to talk to you." "So? Talk."
"Uh, can't we go somewhere more comfortable?" "Depends," he drawled. "On what?" she asked.
"On you," he said, coming a step and a half closer to her, and peering at her through his slit eyes. "It depends on how much of a prick-tease you are."
"I'm not a prick-tease," she said, nauseous at the man's breath, which had an odor of decay about it, an odor smacking of postponed dentistry.
"That's real good to hear," he said, raising his hand between them and nudging her breast with it. He then stood up straight and looked around. "Listen. Who exactly have you told that you were coming to see me?"
"No one," she said with assurance, having expected this question and rehearsed her reply. "Everything is person-to-person, just between you and me."
"Then what in hell you want if it's not some more of my cock?"
"To understand you as a person," she said.
Mullins had never had anyone say anything like this to him before; it sounded like Commie bunk to him. But he believed the clear-eyed girl about not having told anyone. Even if she was about to shit in her pants. Probably too scared to yap. "Listen," he said. "You want to take a drive?"
This was just what she wanted, although not for the reason he assumed. "I don't know," she said. "If that's the only way we can talk."
They walked on into the parking lot and to Mullins' car, a '69 Grand Torino. When he shut the door on her side and sauntered around to his own, Mullins knew that this was one little number gonna put out whether she liked it or not. Probably hadn't even admitted to herself that was what she was after. Silly bitch like the rest.
Suzie didn't pull down her skirt when she got in the car, showing him a flash of thigh, although no more than she thought was needed.
"Tell me about yourself," she said, batting her eyes.
"Give me a little kiss first," he said.
Suzie didn't say a word and Mullins leaned over, pulling her shoulder toward him with an iron grip and then, to Suzie's horror, to her absolute horror as she yielded to him, making her mouth pliant and unresisting as she thought, I've got to; there's no other way, he slurped and gurgled on her with fat wet lips, his breath enough to turn the stomach of a cow.
Chewing off her thumbnail as he revved the motor, she recovered and said, "What were you like as a little
boy?"
"Shit," he said. "I never thought on it. I guess I was just like every other red-blooded American boy."
He didn't seem to be able to talk to her, even though Suzie plied him with question after question. He gave her short answers or growled at her. He seemed to want to think about his car; he wound it out in each gear and was unmindful of speed limits.
There were three uninhabited sections in the hills surrounding the city. It was assumed, correctly, that Mullins would head directly for the nearest, through which wound one paved access road. There was a score of turnouts on the road, offering varying views of the city.
Seven cohorts of Jack's and Suzie's were spaced out along the road, either at vantage points affording a good view of oncoming headlights of any car winding up the hill, or at the most likely turnouts, places thick with eucalyptus trees and bushes--and these places had all been identified to Suzie on a ride up the road some hours earlier.
In the twenty minutes after midnight, the student at the first station kept an especially close look-out, with a view of the road lighted by the moon. When he spotted Suzie speed by on the far side of the car seat from a chunky man, he started his motor and began to follow slowly. When he passed by, the student at each station, whether they had spotted the speeding Pontiac or not, would step out of the bushes and flag him down. Their arrangement was that if someone failed to flag him down, he would park on up the road, hopefully having collected enough of his friends to exact vengeance, and swoop down on their quarry.
It was an adventure.
As they passed more and more of the "safe spots" and this man showed no indication to even slow down his car, Suzie became increasingly agitated. Before they came to the last of her friends, she had chewed off four fingernails. Mullins slowed when approaching the curve around which lay the last safe turnout, as well as the last view of the city, and Suzie sighed in relief.
No sooner had her sigh broken than, around the curve, Mullins stepped on the gas. Shaken, Suzie cried, "Oh! Let's stop there! What a wonderful view of the city!"
"Uhhnyah," Mullins grunted.
"Oh! Just look at that moon!" Suzie raved. "I want to stop and look at the moon!"
"Fuck the moon," Mullins growled. "Seen one moon, seen 'em all." A moment later, as a carefully considered afterthought, he added, "I ain't no Pinko Commie bastard."
"Oh," Suzie said, taken aback and not making the connection, "I know you're not." "Good," he said. "If there's anything I can't stand, it's a dumb fucking broad." "Where ... where are we going?" she asked. "There aren't any more places!"
Mullins looked at her and had the audacity to wink. "Relax, baby. I know a real nice place. Place where me and a real smart broad like you are gonna get along." '
Having spotted Suzie's blonde hair and frightened face as the car careened past, Jack stepped out of the bushes to wait in the road. What had he gotten Suzie into? Where was this maniac taking her?
He walked back to the curve to have a better view of the road. Pacing back and forth, he wished they'd hurry up. Suzie was clever enough, but he didn't know how long she'd manage to hold out. Wanting his friends to hurry, he paced faster and faster.
The Pontiac bounced slowly, spewing dirt and gravel behind as it wound up a rutted road. Suzie had no idea where they were. She steadied herself against the door as they lurched into unfamiliar and possibly
uncharted territory, the car traveling jerkily because Mullins alternately slowed and accelerated impatiently as he kept his eyes on the side of the petering-out road, wanting a secluded spot.
Suzie's chest thumped wildly when they left the road. Bushes reared up like frightened beasts directly in front of the car's headlights as Mullins skidded to a halt and immediately switched off the headlights. Her eyes adjusting, Suzie saw that he had pulled up right next to a tree, its thick trunk standing no more than a foot from her door, and any thoughts she may have entertained about making a run for it fled her mind.
"Come here, honey," Mullins said.
"Uh, let's talk first," she said.
"Save your breath," he said, reaching unseen to the side of his seat and pressing a button. A motor somewhere emitted a high whine as the back of the seat lowered. Unprepared, Suzie went with it, but before she was flat on her back she sat up. Chortling, Mullins flattened her with his body as he gave her another of his big wet kisses. Struggling not to vomit in his face, Suzie said, "I didn't come here for this!"
"What'd you come here for, then?"
"To try to understand you."
"Don't give me any propaganda, sweetheart."
"I'm serious."
"You trying to play some kind of trick on me?" he asked, his tone harsh and suspicious. "Oh no!" she gasped, lying through the gills, "I wouldn't think of it!"
Caressing her throat with his chubby fingers, he hissed, "I could strangle you and leave you here and no one would find you for a month!"
Suzie gulped, her Adam's apple bobbing on his thumb.
"Now, why don't you be truthful with yourself and admit that it's what I got here inside my pants that made you come chasing me?" he said. "What the hell else could it be?" "Not consciously," she said, knowing she'd better try to cool it.
"You uppity college broads are all alike," he said. "You go nuts when a real man gives it to you." He laughed evilly.
Suzie searched her mind in desperation for some ploy that would touch this pig's heartstrings, and when he pressed his fingers into the neck of her dress, she cried, "Please don't hurt me!"
Grasping the material at the front of her dress, he said, "I won't hurt you, baby. I'm going to fuck you 'til your cunt turns blue, and then you're gonna beg for more," and with a grunt he ripped away the front of her dress, all the way to her waist. Her breasts quivered nakedly and Suzie swore that next time she got into a situation like this she would wear a brassiere.
Mullins fastened his teeth onto the nipple of Suzie's large quivering left breast and bit harshly, drawing an agonized squeal from the girl. He switched to the other breast, leaving the wet mark of his teeth on her areola, and then began to suck greedily. Suzie groaned as his wet lips roamed her mounds, and her breasts automatically telegraphed their twitch down to her cunt. She thought, Good God! Not again! and prayed she might pass out, not to have to remember again the baseness of her own animality.
He ran his clammy hand up her trembling thigh and worked his fingers in her pantied slit until he felt her automatic sprinkler system soak the nylon panty crotch, when he yanked them down over her girlish hips, saying, "Take them off!"
"No!" she gasped, scrambling to pull them back up.
She felt Mullins' hand beneath her, clammy on her buttocks, and then a finger pressing between the cheeks of her ass, locating her tight little anus. She tried to twist away, but he flattened her and jabbed his chubby finger into her sensitive anus as she yelped through the nose. Lodged in her to the first joint, he said, "If you don't take them off, right now, I'll use my nightstick."
Held down flat on her back, there was only one method of removing her panties, and when she raised her legs to do so, doubling her legs back slightly, the fact of her increased vulnerability hit her just a split second before he took advantage of it to mercilessly ram his finger home, scoring the inside of her tightly constricted rectum as she squirmed and kicked her legs. "Get 'em off!" he barked.
Suzie quickly doubled her legs back and got her panties almost to her ankles before she felt his thumb swish between her full lips and smack into her vagina. He held her like a bowling ball and, from the way he
twisted them around, she thought he might pick her up and toss her. Her mind rolling down the alley toward complete collapse, she managed to kick the panties on down over her ankles.
Mullins could have sworn that while the doubly penetrated girl squirmed and kicked, his cock must have grown another inch. He slowly eased it out of his pants, saying, "Beg for it."
"For what?" she asked.
"Whatever you want."
"I don't want anything," she said.
Mullins dug into both her asshole and cunt, mercilessly pinching their shared lining of flesh.
"Please! Please!" Suzie yelped.
"Do you want it in the asshole or cunt?"
Not able to bear the piercing pain, making up her mind to beg, she said, "My cunt! Please fuck my cunt!"
Mullins raised over the girl, gouged both shoulders with his stiff arms, reached between them with one hand to guide his throbbing cock forward until it parted Suzie's fleshy hairlips, and touched her hot wetness. The muscles of his ass tightened and he rammed forward with a vengeance.
"Aaaaaaaagggggghhhhh!"
The cry was forced from deep inside Suzie, driven out of her chest by the blast in her loins as the broad red-hot pig prick skewered her like a spinning bullet. Mullins' thick cock tore into her cunt, pushing the moist flesh of her vaginal walls in front of it without letup. The surging waves of agitated cuntal flesh went before the driving pressure of his rock-hard drill, clinging to it and asking more as the steady smack, smack of his balls on the upturned cheeks of her ass reached their ears.
Mullins' fingers folded into Suzie's buttocks as he pulled her high onto his jabbing shaft. He rammed with ever-mounting abandon into the depths of unresisting tender flesh beneath him. He felt his heated cock increase in size and pressure out the folds in her cunt, straining her to her limits as he ground into her.
What could Suzie do? Her body began to twitch in time with his and her lining to her brain became hot. A steady low passionate hum crawled from deep in her chest as her face contorted and she resigned herself. She applied her lips to the chunky pig's neck and began slobbering as she nibbled at him.
Mullins tightened his grip on her buttocks, holding one girlish cheek in each hand, feeling them flex and unflex as she writhed. He submerged his fingers down against her cuntlips to feel with pride his full-size prick pulling and pushing at her hot wet hole. He felt her strain as her thighs went wider and she attempted to swallow his throbbing cock and pull it by its root.
Suzie felt no discomfort and her groans had become mewly sounds of pleasure. She writhed beneath him in nearing ecstasy, straining for a climactic peak. She had no thoughts now except for how to get the most from this ungodly fuck, her body giving to Mullins everything his skewering cock gave her.
"How do you like getting it from a real man?"
Suzie did not immediately answer, her trip at the moment not being a verbal one, and Mullins pulled back, slowed for a moment, then rammed his red-hot glans against her cervix and flexed himself to gain her attention, saying, "Good, ain't it?"
"Oh, yesss, yess!" Suzie gurgled.
"Better than all those Pinko Commie bastards you meet in college, ain't I?" "Ohhhh, yes!" she said, her spirit too submerged in rank sensuality to know what she said yes to. Mullins pushed a quim-juice-moistened finger slowly into Suzie's puckered tiny anus, feeling the soft rubbery flesh yield without resisting his sodomizing digit. "Aaahhhh!" she groaned in half-pained pleasure.
The noises which came from Suzie's chest became broken gasps of pleasure as her anus became accustomed to its invasion and he continued to slam into her cunt. Mullins knew he had this bitch good. He continued to fingerfuck her asshole in concert with the drubbing of her cunt by his huge blunt cock, and she twisted and squealed from the pain and sensual delight of this double impalement of her loins.
Mullins flattened himself heavily on her chest, crushing her sweaty breasts between them and making her breath come in labored gasps, then reached with his other hand to above where his cock pounded her overheated snatch until he located her swollen clitoris. Resting his hand on her soaking pussy hair, he pressed the bud as if it was a doorbell, skimming its smooth wet surface, and then pressed again.
The legs on either side of him flew up, feet hitting the roof of the car as Suzie shrieked hysterically. She opened herself in total offering to the ravishment of her asshole, cunt, and clitoris by the devil-pig assaulting her loins. Her groin bounced back from each jab of cock and fingers like a punching bag.
"Fuck deeper ... fuck harder! Fuck! Pig! Fuck!" she cried.
Her face was contorted and pale with strain as she drove her body against him violently, the hardened nipples digging into his chest like vest buttons. Mullins tore his fingers from her with a wet sound and put his hands beneath her knees and pushed them back and hard down against the flattened seat on either side of her shoulders. The plane of her crotch was stripped of any protection from the pile-driving prick that slapped into her.
"Ah ... ahh ... oooooohhhh ... good, pig, good ... yesss," she groaned as if in anguish, her hands clawing at his plump flesh, sliding down his buttocks and pulling in an attempt to make his prick pierce her more. Suddenly her body stiffened and it was as if she was hung from the ceiling, her only support the length of stiff flesh inside her. She shivered violently.
"I'm cummmmming! GeeeeeEEEEzus! Ooooooooh! OHHH!"
When Mullins released her legs to thrust faster, her legs shot straight out as far as they could, frozen as she reached for the full intensity of every split second of her prolonged cum.
He could feel the muscles inside her stomach working the lips of her vagina, as if trying to snip his cock at the stump, sucking tightly as she milked to keep her orgasm alive. While Suzie did not even appear to be breathing, the chunky man's chest heaved and he feared for his heart as he gave a wild animal grunt and exploded his hot barnyard sperm deep into her, his prick jerking and spurting like a geyser, filling the belly of the beautiful blonde Commie lover.
Both bodies went limp and the two collapsed in a heap on the doubled car seats. Suzie, her eyes glazed, gasped what seemed the first full breath in half an hour, filling her lungs with perspiration and the smell of the pig half on top of her. Exhausted and lifeless though she felt, she shuddered convulsively at what she'd done, shame and humiliation filling her breast as the echo of her own yelps banged her ears.
When the fat, temporarily spent man rolled to the side, Suzie sat up, briefly explored her tender bruised genitals with her fingertips to see where the hurt was, pulled down her skirt, and then lifted her torn dress top to cover her bosom, holding it in place over her still heaving breasts.
"My, my, ain't she modest," Mullins said. "Give her the best fuck she ever had and she gets modest on you." He turned and opened his car door. "Relax while I take a pee," he said. "And you better relax real good, because it ain't over yet. You ain't going home all night--and, fact is, you may never get home in one piece."
In Viet Nam, Mullins had found that women put out better when they're afraid they're going to die. Whistling, he walked to a bush where he shook his heavy limp prick for a moment before the urine flowed, leaves rustling as the yellowy stream splattered. Mullins started to put his cock away, then figured what the hell, may as well leave it out, then changed his mind again, figuring it might be fun to make her fish it out with her tongue.
Still whistling, he turned to take the three steps back to the car, saw Suzie just then stepping out to make a run for it, raised his hand as he both lunged forward and started to speak, to warn her against taking off. The words never left the lunging man's mouth.
Suzie gasped in fright as he made that first quick step, knowing he was going to catch her. But as the big man took that one step, Suzie heard a thunk, although she heard it nowhere near so well as he, and then she watched him fall to his knees, holding his head. A rock, unseen, bounced to the ground.
She heard heavy footsteps and then a dark fast-moving form whizzed past the door and, like a kick-off in a football stadium, caught Mullins square in the solar plexus with a boot. The big man bent forward with a lurch, grabbing his midriff with an ouff!
When the dark form drew back to kick again, Mullins, seeing the movement out of his slit eyes, flopped onto his back and drew his revolver from his belt just as two more shadowy forms ran up from different directions, one of them in time to kick the gun from his hand. The gun hit the side of the Grand Torino and bounced. Attempting to get to his feet, Mullins put one hand on the ground, only to have it stepped on. He was held down, he was out of breath, and his head throbbed, a goose egg already forming on the back of it.
The first form flew forward with another football kick, his boot mashing into Mullin's face. He kicked him
again and then someone else kicked him from the side. The big man sagged to the ground, bleeding darkly in the night. He would have to see a dentist now.
Someone stomped the fallen, unconscious man in the groin, and someone else kicked him in the side. Suzie ran forward, her dress front falling and her breasts flopping freely as she pushed at the forms, her cohorts, screaming, "No! Don't kill him! That's enough!"
They stopped; what revolutionary would not defer to a woman's emotional sense of the just and unjust, especially when her white breasts bounced in foliage-dimmed moonlight? Suzie began to sob brokenly, sobbing at everything, at what had been done to her, at her own lasciviousness, at the prostrate human form lying brokenly on the ground.
Jack stepped forward, taking her in his arms. "My God, I thought we'd never find you."
"We found the tire marks in the dirt where he left the main road," someone said.
"Yeah, and we fanned out on either side of the dirt trail to find you."
"We figured he'd spook if he heard a car engine way out here," George said.
"We'd all gone by without finding you when we heard him whistle."
But as she sobbed helplessly in Jack's arms, Suzie heard none of it. They turned to walk back down the road. Air hissed from the slashed tires of a '69 Pontiac, the only sound on a still night.
CHAPTER SIX
As Tom Kimbal packed his overnight bag, Kathy tried to get some answers out of him. All she knew about the current state of affairs was what she read in the newspaper. The governor had decided to have troops on campus by Monday morning. It was now Sunday afternoon, and he had already issued the call.
While Kathy tried to be understanding, and while she knew that a campus disruption inevitably takes its toll on the campus president, the anger boiling in her husband seemed half directed at her.
"They've pretty much succeeded in shutting down the campus," she said. "There's no blood being shed at the moment. So what makes him decide to send troops now?"
"Because he's an asshole, obviously," Tom growled.
"Well, how are you going to convince him not to?"
"Damned if I know."
"Well... what'll you say?"
"Find some way to convince him he's an asshole," he said. "How else?"
"That might be difficult."
Tom fixed her with a steely sarcastic look.
"The troops wouldn't be necessary," she said, "if you'd just ease dormitory regulations." "Holy fucking Jesus!" Tom bellowed. "Now you're getting on my back!"
"Well," she said defensively, "it seems to me that the public, even in this state, is willing to accept the fact that today's student has some right to have normal sex."
"Now tell me just what in hell you know about normal sex!" he snapped.
Stung, Kathy turned to leave the room. When Tom left fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the parlor. She saw him stride past the glass doors without even looking for her, and heard him bellow from the front door that he wouldn't be back 'til morning, which she already surmised from the fact that he'd packed his overnight bag.
Kathy remained seated on one end of the couch in the parlor long after Tom had gone. Her thoughts were not those she would have chosen to think, but being totally alone with them they took ahold of her. She saw no chance of ever achieving happiness with Tom. Her marriage seemed pointless and futile. The sun sank in the sky and she showed no outward signs of life. Darkness grew and absorbed her and she did not reach out to turn on a light. The dinner hour had passed and she had no pangs of hunger. She was in the grips of a deep depression.
The doorbell rang once, twice, three times, maybe more. At first she didn't hear it and then she ignored it, before its insistent clamoring din aroused her from her inner turmoil enough to enable her to overcome her outer lethargy and go answer it. When she switched on the porch light and peeked through the door she saw Jack standing there, holding an envelope. Beside him stood another boy, and only after studying his face for a moment did she realize that he also had carnal knowledge of her. The words to describe the exact act he'd performed on her semi-reluctant body did not immediately come to mind, but at the memory of it, as she gazed upon him, her rectum tingled. It was George.
"Well, we didn't know whether you were here or not," Jack was saying, "but your husband held a news conference in the capitol about an hour ago, so we figured it was safe to come by."
"Oh, oh yes," she found herself saying, "he'll be away overnight."
"Well, I just brought these by," Jack said. "They're the, uh, the negatives. For the pictures I gave you. I just wanted you to feel secure that I wouldn't use them."
"Oh," she said, frowning, remembering, "I knew you wouldn't use them." "All along?" he asked, incredulous.
"Well," she said, laughing, and standing aside in silent invitation for the two to enter, "for a while you had me believing that you might use them, but after I left I knew you wouldn't."
"Well, that's nice," Jack said. "Because as a matter of fact, I wouldn't have." He began laughing to himself. "What's so funny?" she asked, leading them into the darkened house and turning on a light in the parlor. "I kept copies of them," Jack admitted. "That way, if I ever get to be seventy and can't get it up, all I'll have
to do is take a look at them. Hope you don't mind."
"Not really," she said, smiling enigmatically, aglow with the knowledge that, although her husband rejected her, this boy wanted to possess her, to keep vivid the memory of having possessed her, throughout his life. "But I hope you look at them before you're seventy!"
"I'm sure I will," he said, "but masturbating is something I like to avoid, if possible."
"So?" she said. "Don't masturbate."
"Is that an invitation?" he asked. But he asked it rhetorically, because from the way she stood and smiled he knew full well she was provoking him. Them.
She shrugged--meaning, take it however you want--and her cheeks suddenly flushed as her smile became more radiant. Jack kissed her briefly yet lingeringly on her full lips and then lowered his head to nibble at her neck, his hand coming up to massage her breast through her clothes.
Her eyes wide open, she looked at George, who although grinning had stood silently while the two of them had spoken, and held her hand out to him. When he stepped forward, she caressed his cheek. Her mouth opened to receive his tongue as he kissed her on the lips. Her eyes closed as her arms went around both boys. George clutched the full globe of her ass in his hand and squeezed.
Feeling herself beginning to go weak at the knees, with a sigh Kathy shook herself free from both boys and stepped back. She reached behind herself to unzip her dress, drawing it forward over her arms and then quickly reaching behind herself again to unhook her brassiere, leaning forward to ease her breasts out of the cups and dropping it to the floor. Her erect nipples glowed like eyes. As if to ease a sudden pang, she touched them for a moment with the fingertips of both hands, before pulling her dress and panties down over her hips.
Eyeing keenly her quivering breasts, both Jack and George had begun to undress, ripping off their clothes as she calmly stepped out of her panties and then sat on the arm of the easy chair, her legs slightly parted. She was aware that as both boys tore blindly at their clothes, their eyes were on her body, traveling from her full quivering breasts to the moist gash between her legs. This pleased her and she felt her pussy secrete more of its lubricant.
In part, with Jack and later with his friends, Kathy had undergone a process of self-discovery. It had been painful as all such processes are, but now she found herself asking, What is femininity if it does not actively seek to arouse masculinity?
Kathy spread her legs as she sat on the arm of the easy chair, the tendons in her thighs standing out as she dabbled at her exposed pussy with her fingers, slowly spreading her gushing lubricant all around the surface of her richly colored inner membrane in the center of her hair lips. Her enigmatic smile had returned to her face as if she was discovering a secret.
When both boys stood naked in front of her, Kathy eyed their aroused cocks, both unlimbered prongs thrusting in front of their owners. Both cocks were red-tipped and blue-veined and almost gruesomely erotic, although both were circumcised and not quite so gruesome as Tom's. Kathy shuddered slightly, but she knew she had to make what sensual discoveries about herself she could while she had the opportunity. She had to be split by both cocks at once.
She motioned to George, saying, "Lie down," and when he did, his prong thrusting obscenely from his pubic mat, she didn't know how she would manage to impale herself on it. But, taking a deep breath, she straddled him, facing away from him, and lowered herself, going onto her knees. When she felt the broad head of his cock touch her crotch, she reached down between them to take it in her hand, running it up and down her lubricated pussy.
Both boys watched as she centered it and eased her hips down, the cock's head splitting her lips and stretching her cuntmouth. With a gasp, she sat down on it, impaling herself fully. She wiggled her hips to make his prick nice and slick and then rose off it only to touch it to the crevice between the cheeks of her ass. Being helpful, impatient for further contact, George moved his hands to the underside of her buttocks and split them wide open to settle the tip of his prick against the rubbery ring.
Kathy's face tensed as she anticipated the ripping pain of entry, her hands pressed down onto George's thighs for support. She held her breath as the pressure of his cock against her asshole mounted, gingerly lowering herself as the prick rose grindingly higher to complete the union.
Kathy's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room George held his breath and Jack watched quietly,
in hypnotized fascination as the beautiful full-bodied woman before him pulled her lips back over her teeth and turned every ounce of her concentration to inflicting upon herself that first flash of pain that would mean the prick had broken through her resisting anus. Sweat broke out on her brow and her underarms. Suddenly it happened. "Aaaagh, Jesus!" she cried, willingly rent.
George reached around to grab the heavy breasts of the panting perspiring woman who had admitted the head of his prick to her rectum. Her nipples were rigid against his palms. He wiggled his buttocks to help her rectum adjust. He pulled against her breasts and humped his groin to wedge more cock into her asshole.
George could bear it no longer and his hands left off kneading her breasts as he sat up fully to pull her down by the shoulders with all his might.
"Ugh, ooh, ahhh," Kathy cried, her asshole suddenly impaled by the length of his cock, bloated to the hot rubbery depths of her rectum, her body quivering. But just as she expected, just as had happened last time, the burning pain eased off and her ass adjusted to sodomy. Feeling filled clear to the gills, she looked up and saw Jack's prick standing twitchingly at ready in front of her.
When she opened her mouth and held her tongue out softly, Jack took a step forward. She seized it in her mouth and caressingly licked its tip, tasting some seepage, and then ran her tongue all over its tender glans. She squeezed the glans tightly between her tongue and soft palate and felt Jack's cock give an involuntary twitch, and then she lay back, lying on her back atop George, spreading her legs wide and holding out her arms. "Fuck my cunt!" she cried throatily, as if the lad needed any urging.
Jack knelt between their legs, his knees between George's, Kathy's sticking almost straight out to the sides. Her quim was spread, dripping, the jet black fur stuck down on either side of the slavering geegaw. But it was a geegaw with hot throbbing depths and folds. Jack touched the head of his cock to it and felt it emit heat. There is nothing more dizzying than introducing your cock to slobbering, hot, moist pussy, a pussy primed just so.
As if he was taking too much time about it, Kathy grasped his buttocks and pulled him into her, his prick churning her channel with a sucking noise as it impaled her and became totally engulfed in the dank depths.
"Oh! Yes! Yes!" Kathy cried, holding his buttocks firmly, wanting all of him inside her and feeling her pussy begin to pulse on the splitting shaft while her rectum gripped the other shaft probing her bowels from beneath. And in that moment of silence and stillness, Kathy, savoring the anticipation that, in just a moment now, both huge cruelly penetrating shafts would churn and plow and jostle her belly from both ends until her teeth rattled and she was fucked silly, Kathy, savoring this, savoring her own ravishment, knew that she was not frigid. She knew it beyond a doubt, once and for all. Never again would that scene be laid on her, to put it in student parlance. It was a heavy trip and a damnable one.
After holding his press conference in the office of one of the TV stations in the capitol, Tom Kimbal went to a bar. He planned to get drunk and pick up a tart, or even hire a prostitute. A college president has to get his rocks off just like everyone else, he told himself with no little self-irony.
But as he nursed his double Scotch, his thoughts were all directed toward the conferences he'd just had, first with the governor and then with the press. He'd told the governor that the troops were unnecessary, that the campus was calm for the moment. The governor, in his best hypocritically indignant style, had said, "Look here, the taxpayers of this state pay good money to keep that campus open, and I say, by God, if you can't keep it open, then the troops are gonna have to do it for you!"
Tom, on impulse, had then gone to the TV station, had reported what he'd told the governor, which was an accurate reflection of the situation, and told them what the governor had said. He'd gone on to state that the governor was trying as usual to make political hay out of a campus disturbance--since he knew from the polls that the public approved--but that this time the public would see that the troops weren't necessary. He, Tom Kimbal, thought that the public was becoming wise to the mechanics of campus disturbances, and that now they would also become wise to this right-wing rabble-rousing political charlatan who served as their governor.
Tom downed his Scotch and hoped he was right; it was going to be his neck or the governor's. He knew that if he announced an easing of dormitory regulations, he would be right, he would take the wind out of their sails; however much the leaders might want to bring down the university over this, their support would melt away.
Tom ordered another double Scotch and wondered why he'd been so stubborn on this. He had been telling himself that he objected to their tactics, but now, in his half-drunken haze, he saw that what he didn't like was the image of his fourteen thousand students all copulating happily, when he, Tom, didn't do very well for himself at home. He had been mouthing morality, publicly, alongside the governor, and saw that it was a morality both more personal than he'd thought and at the same time based on envy. This hit Tom as a great insight: morality grows out of envy. He would later realize that the German philosopher Schopenhaur had said it. Still, it was an insight, a truth, a verity that each man must sometime in his life see for himself.
Tom knocked off his second Scotch and eyed the women in the bar. A couple of floozies were standing together down near the telephone. He was looking them over, and had pretty much decided on the skinny one just for a change of pace, when a patron leaving the bar did a double-take, glancing at Tom and then looking again before he walked out. Tom suddenly remembered that, having been in the media, he had been recognized--or if not, there was a good chance he would be. He tried for a moment to imagine newspaper headlines: Stubborn Prexy Seen with Floozy; While Students Riot over Rights to Normal Sex, President Kimbal Cavorts with Whores.
His blood curdled. He got up and walked out of the bar, looking neither to the right nor left. Outside, he shuddered. Once in his car, having given up the notion of getting his rocks off, he wondered what had made him want to go to a whore, anyway. Kathy was sexier than any woman who ever put it up for sale. Even if she was frigid. Tom Kimbal suddenly found himself wondering why he'd wanted to go to a whore anyway; what was missing from his life was the sensual response of a woman, a heartfelt libidinal response, and that was nothing you ever got from a whore, from a woman who functioned like a machine.
When Tom put his key in the lock and opened the front door he heard the strange sound of a cat purring, an unfeline cat purring in soprano, a strange sound he did not recognize and he stood at the open door, an ear cocked, frowning absently. Only when the half-human half-animal purr was interrupted by a deep grunt did he recognize the continuing sound as a moan, and realize that the moan was the result of some kind of activity going on in his parlor. Light shined through the parlor doors and the rest of the house was dark. Tom closed the front door without making a sound. It had been a long time since Tom had heard a woman moan like that. He set down his briefcase, took off his shoes, and in his stockinged feet crept to the glass doors of the lighted parlor.
Tom saw what he immediately recognized as a two-backed beast--as the poet once called it. Except this beast had too many legs all tangled and, yep, three torsos all piled up; it was a three-backed beast. The angle of the legs, which he had now sorted out, allowed Tom to see that the beast in the middle was being double-fucked. Tom didn't recognize the twisted, ecstatic expression on his wife's face, but he recognized her body. Knowledge hit his uncomprehending mind: There Kathy was, being sandwiched and loving it!
"Ohhhhh!" she moaned, the pleasure in her voice undeniable. She was impaled between two cocks like meat on a barbecue spot. His frigid wife!
Tom's brain turned hot as he watched two thick cudgels of flesh skewer his wife's wide wishboned legs, splitting the orifices of her loins like battering rams. The only sounds in the house were the grunts and moans, the sounds of passion in the parlor, and the wind rattling the windows.
The lad on top pounded the unresisting cavern of his wife's cunt, and Tom saw the pink edges of her cunt drawing back with Jack's outstroke, then the cunt-wet cock folding the ragged lips in again as he rammed his prick into her belly. And he saw George violating her asshole, grinning demoniacally with each murderous long stroke as he rammed splittingly between her buttocks. The cries reached a new decibel level. Even the wind howled in ecstasy. KathyTom kept reminding himself that this was Kathy! His Kathy! Frigid Kathy!moaned in undisguised impassioned pleasure. Totally letting herself go, overindulged in pricks, she howled and bucked and fucked back at each of the pounding penises. With each driving, digging stroke, she counterpunched, taking everything they had. She was the picture of wantonness, a picture from Tom's dreams. Her hips fired backward to meet the upthrust of George's cramming cock with the rubber of her bowels and then shot forward to swallow the whole of Jack's cock in her hot lead-melting pussy. Her whole frame undulated between the two youths and her breasts shuddered and her buttocks twitched as they moved in
abandoned circles.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah ... " she chanted in step with the buildup inside her belly toward an explosion, the climb inside her at a faster pace than the duo thrusting at her loins. Kathy knew she was almost there, closer, closer, closer! All three groaned and panted and gasped a rendition of total oblivion to life or persons outside their triangle.
The lad on top finished first. "I'm cumming ... ah, oh fuck, you're good!" and he slobbered on her breasts, chewing her nipples as he fired a load of hot sperm into her steaming pussy, his prick pumped by Kathy's flailing pulsating pussy as she reached her climax.
"Ohhhhh! Ooh! I'm cumming! I'm CUMMMING! Ooh! ... My ass, my cunt! Oh! OHHHHHH! God!"
Tom saw his wife's orgasm climb and climb, doubling, echoing, continuing ... Kathy was deliriously conscious of the spurting cock in her sorely twitching pussy, and then she heard the heavy groan as the first molten burst of seminal fluid flooded her rectum, the quaking cock swelling as it fired salvo on salvo into her twice-used asshole passage, George grabbing her slobbered-on tits and squeezing as if to hold her steady while he gave her his best.
The three lay in a sticky wet oozing heap for a minute, breathing heavily and letting their heartbeats settle. Finally, Tom saw the lad on top climb up, his prick limp and coming from Kathy's cunt with a wet sucking noise. Kathy lay still, unable to move with George beneath her holding her around the waist and his cock up her ass. Tom saw through the glass doors her legs obscenely splayed, cum mixing with her juice and spilling out the ragged edges of her cuntlips and down onto the dwindling cock in her rectum below.
Trying to get a grip on himself and to decide what course of action to take, Tom stepped back into the foyer. He was mad, justifiably angry--his husbandly prerogative had been usurped. But more than anything, he wanted to fuck her! He wanted to fuck Kathy and make her cum! To make his wife, whom he'd never really known, cry out in joy!
He heard the steady murmur of voices from the parlor, something being discussed, and still had not fixed a course of action when he heard Kathy say, "Of course you should stay! Let's fuck 'til dawn! If you're game, of course!"
"We're game!" both chorused. Tom bet they were. "Great!" Kathy said. "I'll go fix us a drink!"
From the foyer, Tom glimpsed his wife's nakedly undulant body as she flashed out of the parlor, shut the door, and went toward the bar. Treading lightly, drawn by a magnet, he crept by the parlor, glancing at the boys as they lit cigarettes, and after his wife, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.
Kathy, squatted in front of the mini-refrigerator at the bar, heard no one approach. Her first knowledge that anyone was behind her came when her sight was abruptly cut off, a folded handkerchief slammed over her eyes, then tied behind.
The next thing she was aware of was a finger abruptly ramming into her cunt as she squatted, gaping slightly as it was, and then a hand on her arm, lifting her to her feet. "Jack?" she guessed. "George?"
There was no answer. She felt herself being steered forward rapidly, her buttocks cupped in the palm of a hand as she walked, the finger obscenely probing her cunt. She thought, Whichever of them it is, they don't want me to know. With this thought she felt her excitement return in full lascivious force. Imagine that! Not knowing who was fucking you! She felt her cunt, already sopping with her cum and Jack's, emit fluid afresh.
Then she heard a sound that took her a moment to identify as something she'd heard before, a jingling sound. It was the sound of change jingling in a man's trouser pockets, change jingling as she half stumbled in front of the man up the stairs.
Jack and George were both naked! This was neither of them! Tom was in the capitol overnight! This was someone else! Someone she didn't know! A burglar!
"Who ... who?" she stammered.
"Shut up or I'll kill you," the man growled in a low husky voice.
Kathy's heart skipped a beat and she realized that she was going to be raped, fucked by a man she had never seen, did not see now. Shoved forward, she fell onto her face on a bed. She waited, knowing she had no power to resist, and realized that she had never been more excited in her life. Her pussy throbbed at the thought of being ravished by a total stranger. It was a night, possibly her last opportunity for a long time, for
giving in to her sensual sensations.
She rose to her knees on the edge of the mattress. She realized from the rustle of clothing that the man was removing his pants. She could run if she wanted. Something throbbing in her mind told her to run, but her pussy cried to stay. What was this lasciviousness she felt?
Her face flush against the bedspread, she spread her knees widely on the edge of the mattress and arched her back to present herself, her pussy. She was a victim who at this moment chose to be victimized.
Tom saw both of his blindfolded wife's hands come to her crotch and spread her pussy, drawing the lips apart to reveal the folds of her cunt-mouth, as she began to gurgle, "Fuck me! Oh fuck me!" and waggle her ass in the air. Goddamn stubborn women, he thought, it takes them forever to learn. But when they do come around, they do it with a vengeance.
In half a moment Tom stepped between his wife's heels, standing behind her as she waggled obscenely, showing him right where she wanted him to stick it. He took his throbbing hot cock in his hand and guided it without delay until its bulbous head, from which he'd peeled the foreskin, split her soft, damp, warm cuntlips. He took a deep breath and shoved his hips lightly forward, his husky cock sinking in blissful relief into his wife's obscenely displayed, totally primed cunt. Holding her by the hips, he sank to the hilt with a smack as she let go her hair lips and drove back on him, gurgling in a faraway voice, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck hard!"
Holding her tail end aloft to be slammed into by an anonymous stranger, Kathy had never felt more wanton. She thought that this was as wanton as anyone could ever act, but she was helplessly in the grip of it. She was an animal, an animal with the gift of speech, gurgling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" until this stranger began to slam into her with such brutal ravaging force, that her teeth literally rattled and she could only moan unintelligible obscenities deep in her throat, her muscles tightening those vaginal muscles she was just beginning to know how to use in a firm grip on the brutally skewering cock. Kathy, her breath whistling through her nose, knew she was on the verge of being shattered, the tide rising to break the dam.
His wife's wantonness had surpassed Tom's wildest imaginings. He'd never possessed any woman in his life quite like this, and before marrying he'd been around. This was it as far as he was concerned.
When Kathy reared up her position was such that she would have fallen over backward had she not been skewered on his thrusting cock, but she reared anyway, blindly, her arms clawing at the air like the forelegs of a horse driving her cunt hard onto his raw throbbing cock. Tom felt it, felt it coming on from the tips of his toes as he snorted through his nose, clutched his wife's hobbling breasts in a death grip, and felt his over laden testicles explode, his great cock swelling as it fired hot cum into this wild woman whinnying through her nose as she clawed air and threw herself on the exploding impaling stake.
"Aaiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" she shrieked as she felt her womb fill and overflow. "Ah! Ah! Aaiiiiieeeeeee!"
"Fuck. Holy Jesus, Christ. Crap." Tom cried as his spine quaked, "Argggghhhh!"
And their cries of delirium mingled, filling the house.
When his trembling spent sagged into his arms, Tom lowered her onto the bed, easing his dwindling cock out with a pop.
Not until she had gotten her breath, sighing several times, did Kathy think to raise her blindfold and discover who this king of all stallions was. A smile spread over her face, a deep smile. "Oh Tom!" she said, "I'm so glad!" She could not have meant it more. It was the most wanton, the best fuck she'd ever given; it was only fitting Tom should receive it.
"Well," he said, his feelings a bit mixed, "I guess I am, too. All things considered."
"Bravo!" Jack cried from the door.
Tom looked up and there the two young men stood. They had been roused when Kathy did not return with their drinks, and directed to the bedroom by the sound of passion. Tom frowned, still not knowing what he was going to do.
"Hey, wait a minute," Jack said. "All you gotta do is ease up on the regulations a bit, and we'll have our own field to play in, remember that."
Kathy found herself hating the boys not permanently, surely, but for the moment. Why couldn't they get up and leave graciously?
"Got your promise?" Tom asked. "I'll lift the dorm ban in the morning. Will that mean the riot is over?" Jack and George looked at each other. "Sure," George said. "We don't want to reelect the governor any
more than you do."
"Good," Tom said, taking a step closer to them. "I suppose I ought to thank you--you've done me a favor, you know, loosening up my wife a bit." The boys shrugged.
"However," Tom said, recognizing these boys now, having seen files on them, and hating them for the repeated riots--and, perhaps, there was a bit of husbandly rage mingled with the other, "for the rest of it, I owe you this!" And so saying, he raised his huge fist high in the air and brought it down with a bone-popping smash directly on the bridge of Jack's nose, smashing it all over his face. Jack fell to the floor, unconscious and bleeding. "Get him out of here," Tom said to the bewildered George, "and if anybody asks who gave it to him, feel free to say!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
When the National Guard arrived the next morning, their numbers having swollen during the night at the local armory as, unit by unit, men arrived from all over the state. When several truck-loads arrived on campus there was nothing for them to do. Sitting in their trucks, or lounging on the sidewalks around them, they saw students walking back and forth to class just like students anywhere. They were not even particularly hostile to the soldiers, chatting with them, the girls handing them cookies and flowers.
At the beginning of the day there were not many students about, but as the day wore on and news spread, more came to campus until, by lunchtime, when the troops were sent back to the armory, it looked like a normal day. Tom Kimbal had called the local newspapers during the night and announced that rather than let the governor create a situation where blood would flow, he, Tom, was going against the man to relax regulations in the dorms and thus end the riot. Students, reading headlines that the riot was over, promptly returned to class.
The commander of the National Guard criticized the governor for calling out his men, disrupting their lives, for nothing. The governor promptly called both Tom and the general scoundrels, but no one bought it. Having reigned in terror from the state capital for two terms, the governor, who had presidential aspirations, ran for senator the following fall, and was soundly defeated.
Officer Mullins was arrested as he lay in his hospital bed, recuperating from broken rips and a broken face, and was charged with rape, unnatural sex, and depriving prisoners of their civil rights. Coming from Judge O'Gary, the D.A. had immediately gone to work on the complaint against the "John Doe" who'd been on duty at the prison farm that day. But the D.A. had a limited staff and many other complaints, warrants, etc., in the height of the riot, and his investigating staff had not come up with the culprit's identity until it was too late to save his, the culprit's, face.
A member of the D.A.'s staff talked to Suzie, but she denied all knowledge of the man. When Mullins recovered, Jack, his nose misshapen but likewise healed, read in the paper that he was to be arraigned and charged, sitting with Suzie in commons at breakfast, having just spent the night with her and Janet, comfortably adapting to the new rules.
"We ought to picket," he said, reading the news item aloud.
"Picket?" Suzie asked, aghast at the memory of the man.
"Sure. They're charging him with sodomy. That's not a crime."
"Hasn't he done enough else, though?" Suzie cried.
"Of course," Jack said. "I'd like to see him hang. But sodomy shouldn't be a crime. We have to be fair. Our signs should read, 'Rapeyes! Sodomy no!' What do you think?" "I think that takes the cake," she said.
"What?" he asked.
"After what he did to me, you want to picket?"
"Well, no," Jack backed off. "Not really. It's just that, ideally, we should be fair-minded."
"Oh," Suzie said. But she'd caught a true glimpse of Jack just then. And she didn't like it. Picket! Why, he'd use anything as an excuse to create a disturbance. Hell, he didn't like causes, his cause was turmoil itself. He was hooked, no better than if on a powerful drug. Suzie shuddered inwardly, wondering what kind of guy this really was.
