Diana Wyatt had this weird feeling in her guts. It was hard for her to put a definition to that feeling, in that it was a combination of nausea and pleasure. Yes, goddamn it, pleasure! And wasn't that pleasure just a little sick under the circumstances? My God, four people were dead, one of those a fellow police officer.
"Are you all right, Diana?" Karl Ralston asked, able to pause momentarily now that most of the mop-up operations were completed, the situation pretty much in hand.
"I'm fine," Diana said, leaning against the fender of the squad car which had brought her and Karl to the scene of the shoot-out. "Just give me a minute or two."
"It's always worst the first time," Karl told her, moving off to give Diana a little breathing space.
Diana took several deep gulps of air, trying desperately to regain her composure. She didn't, after all, see any of the others looking all that peaked, did she? But then, none of the others were rookies at this time, like Diana was, were they?
"Why in the hell don't you have Karl run you back to the apartment?" Georgia Nawson asked, joining Diana by the car. "We'v almost got things in control here."
"Really, I'm okay," Diana told her fellow policewoman and roommate. "I just need to catch my breath."
"Yeah, honey, I know just how much this kind of scare can do to blow a girl's mind," Georgia said, remembering her own initiation into the blood-and-guts reality of police work. "The best thing you could do now would be to have Karl drive you back to the apartment and ball him when you get there."
"Jesus, Georgia!" Diana'voiced, wondering if she were blushing. She had more than once wondered if she hadn't made a mistake in moving into the apartment with Georgia. Oh, hell, not because she didn't like Georgia; becauce, Diana did like her. It was just that Diana and Georgia were simply too different people in some aspects. Sexual differences being the most obvious at the moment. Georgia seemed to think nothing of balling any guy (on the force or off) who caught her eye. Diana, on the other hand, just wasn't as-uninhibited. The idea of Georgia having suggested Diana go home and ball Karl was more than a little embarrassing to Diana.
"Take it from me, honey," Georgia said, all authority on the subject, "the best therapy for this bloodbath you just witnessed is a good workout with hard cock. And, baby, your partner, has got a big enough cock to make you forget everything you saw here this evening."
"Maybe," Diana admitted. She had, alter all, heard from more than one source that Karl Ralson was hung like a horse. "But, I'm afraid lam going to have to pass-" Besides, there was no therapy Diana could imagine which was going to make her forget what happened here this evening. For that matter, she wasn't all that sure she wanted to forget what happened here. It was just this feeling of pleasure she had been searching out, wasn't she? Hell, yes. She had derived more sexual pleasure from these last few hours than she had those two years of marriage to Mervin.
"You won't mind if I bring back David, will you?" Georgia asked.
"David?" Diana asked, wondering if Georgia were referring to David.
"Yea, I've been wanting to see what that stud has had in his pants for one hell of a long time now. And this evening I could tell he was ready for just what Georgia here had to offer him."
Diana felt a resulting chill run up and down the length of her body. David ... Jesus, David! Georgia was actually going to bring David back to the apartment!
"I'm fine," Diana insisted. "Really I am." But was she? The idea of having David in the same apartment-maybe even having to talk to him-was more frightening than the whole scene Diana had gone through already that evening.
Oh, not that Diana didn't plan eventually to talk to David. But, that confrontation wasn't something she was prepared to rush into now. Hell, you didn't just walk up to your brother after ten years and say, "Hey, David, how you been?" No ... no! You planned for the meeting, making it just the right place and just the right time. And at her apartment, when David arrived for an evening of fucking Georgia, certainly wasn't the right time or the right place.
"Listen, kid," Georgia said, turning to take a quick survey of the area. She caught sight of David Miller off to one side, pushing one of the surviving gunmen into a patrol car. She then saw Karl Ralston off to another side, talking to Peter Wyllis. "I don't give a shit what you. say. I think you would do good to head on back to the apartment for a good night rest. You officially are off duty at twelve o'clock anyway, aren't you?"
Diana looked at her wristwatch, squinting to make out the time as registered on her luminescent watch dials. Christ, it was almost three in the morning! She had been here over four hours-and it seemed only like a few minutes.
"I've got all that paperwork to complete, Georgia," Diana reminded. Something like this was bound to have reams of paperwork that had to be filled out for upcoming court cases.
"Karl can take care of most of that routine," Georgia told her.
"I can carry my end, Georgia. Really I can."
"Don't be such a stubborn ass, Diana!" Georgia accused, shaking her head. "No one is going to think you can't handle yourself just because you got a little upset about all of this that went down tonight." She held up her right hand to keep Diana from breaking in with anymore nonsense. "I've seen grown men-the big, butch men, too-puke out their guts after gunning down their first man. No one, least of all Karkl, is going to play male chauvinist just because you don't feel like filling out a few goddamned forms."
Diana had killed a man! Jesus, she had almost forgotten she had killed a man! And, how in the hell did someone forget something like that?
"You wait here," Georgia instructed. "I'm telling Karl to get his ass over here to take you home."
"Georgia, I...."
But Georgia wasn't listening to anything Diana had to say by way of argument. She walked quickly across the blood-stained pavement to where Karl was still talking to Peter Wyllis. The three talked for i few seconds more, after which Karl broke away and headed back to Diana at the squad car.
"I'm awfully sorry about all of this, Karl," Diana said by way of aplogy. "Georgia has mistakenly gotten it into her head that I'm coming apart at the seams, when really...."
Karl had opened the passenger side of the car and was motioning Diana inside.
"Really, Karl, I'm fine."
"Did I say you weren't fine?" Karl asked with a big smile. He had an attractive face, especially attractive when he smiled. His mouth was, perhaps, a little too big, his startlingly white teeth a little too large; but, everything seemed to sit just right on his face: rugged but decidedly handsome.
"Then why...?"
"Because, things are pretty well wrapped up here," Karl told her. "They don't need either of us any longer. And, I don't know about you, but I'm bushed."
"I see."
"And you wouldn't want to deprive me of my beauty nap, now-would you?"
"Guess not," Diana said with a laugh. She scooted into the froat seat, letting Karl shut the door behind her.
While Karl was walking around to his side of the auto, Diana could see how Georgia had moved over to talk to David. In the light of the flashing red lights on several squad cars, Diana saw her brother's attractive body standing so close to Georgia that the two were actually touching.
Jesus, was she jealous? Hell, what an absurd notion! How in the hell could Diana be jealous? Diana certainly couldn't be jealous that way, could she? Christ, David was her brother! Not her lover. And, she hadn't talked to him in well over ten years.
Karl pulled the car out through the blockade formed by several other squad cars. He turned onto a street whose wet pavement reflected the bright orange light of corner-spaced streetlights.
Diana pushed her head back into the leather headrest, enjoying-as always-the exotic smell of the leather. She shut her eyes, opening them with a start when the car came to a stop. She had fallen asleep without even knowing she had done so.
"I dozed," Diana announced, somehow embarrassed that she had allowed herself to drift off.
"Yea, I noticed," Karl said, accompanying again with a smile. "A night like tonight can take the stuffing out of most of us. But it's nothing that a good night's rest isn't going to cure, or...."
Diana aborted her efforts to exit the car, realizing that Karl had been going to say something more but had stopped before having done so.
"Or what?" Diana asked, realizing too late that she probably already knew the answer to that question and was only making matters more difficult for the both of them by asking Karl to be more specific.
"Or, I could come up for a few minutes if you think a little talk-or whatever-would help."
"Thanks, but no thanks," Diana said, trying her best to use a tone of voice that wasn't going to make Karl think she was rejecting him personally. Actually, if Diana hadn't just about given up sex after her unfortunate experience with short-lived marriage, she would have probably been more than happy to have Karl on up. Karl, after all, was a really nice guy who had given Diana none of the static a lot of the guys still managed to lie on the girls who joined the force. "Not tonight anyway. I'm bushed; and, I do recall you saying you were bushed, too."
"Yea, I guess maybe I did say that, didn't I?" Karl admitted with a little boyish grin. He wondered if Diana knew just how willing he would have been to bury his massive prick in her juice-sopped pussy.
"I'll try to make it to the office early tomorrow to fill out my share of those goddamned forms," Diana said, engaging the door handle and opening the car door. "If you get any static, give me a call, and...."
"There'll be no static," Karl promised. "I've been around so long, I can fill out those forms with my eyes closed."
Diana got out of the car, closed the door, and turned back to lean in through the open window.
"And, thanks Karl," Diana said. And, she was glad that Karl hadn't asked, "For what?" Because, it would have been a bit embarrassing to explain how Diana really wouldn't have been up to fending off his advances if Karl had insisted that she let him come on up.
"We're partners, aren't we?" Karl said. "Partners watch out for each other, don't they?"
"Thanks, then, for watching out for me," Diana said. She pulled back, amused when Karl stayed parked right where he was until Diana had unlocked the door to her apartment building and was waving safely from the lobby.
Diana headed for the elevators, finding one waiting for her. She pushed the button for the tenth floor and felt the little lurch as the enclosure began to move.
The apartment Diana shared with Georgia was like none Diana had ever lived in before and would probably never live in again.
"It once belonged to a high-class hooker," Georgia had announced the very first time she had brought Diana around for a look-see. "After one too many busts, she decided to move on; and, one of the guys in vice, who knew I was looking for a place, clued me in on this one. I was sharing it with Barbara Botten-did you get a chance to meet her?-but she got transferred out to be with her boyfriend across town. So, since a cop like me can't afford the rent by myself that the hooker was putting out, I've got to find a roommie quick."
Diana had moved in two days later, not having really been aware of the apartment extras until she happened to open one of the linen closets to put away a couple of towels. She had stepped back, preparing to close the linen closet doors when she had somehow been drawn to the small crawl space beneath the bottom shelf.
"Ah, I see you've run across one of this place's added attractions," Georgia said, her voice filled with obvious amusement.
Georgia's voice, however, had been so unexpected that Diana's head had come up with a start to bang the wood overhang.
"Ohhhh," Diana moaned; however, in spite of the ache, she couldn't help laughing at the same time.
"You okay?" Georgia asked, searching through Diana's silky blonde hair for any sign of split skin.
"I'll survive ... I think," Diana said, dropping to a kneeling position on the floor that gave her an even better view of the space beneath the shelves. What she saw, she wasn't quite sure. She knew what it looked like.
"That's part of a two-way mirror," Georgia said, realizing Diana's attention had been transferred back to what it had been focused upon at the time of Georgia's arrival. "As I told you, this place was once the stamping grounds of a very professional-type lady. She obviously had a few clients who enjoyed whatching while she and some other John performed."
"Jesus!" Diana exclaimed, not knowing what else to say.
"While we're at it, why don't I take you around and show you the peepholes in your own bedroom," Georgia suggested, extending a hand to give Diana a lift to her feet. "Just in case you want to plug them up."
And Diana had plugged them up, too, hadn't she? She had also made sure that the mirrors in her room were exactly one-way, as they should have been. When she had completed her thorough tour, she found herself wondering why Georgia hadn't bothered taking out the two-way mirror that gave a viewer access into Georgia's bedroom; although, Diana didn't ask, since-what with the two women being the only two in the apartment-Diana had suddenly felt guilty about being so fucking paranoid by a couple of peepholes. What was she expecting Georgia to do, come spying on Diana's activities in the bedroom?
Diana passed the linen closet on the way to her bedroom. Once in her bedroom, she shut the door and locked it.
Why in the fuck had she locked it? Did she think there was even the slightest chance that Georgia and David would come barging into Diana's bedroom by mistake? Hell, no, there was no chance of that! Still....
Diana stripped off her uniform and laid it on a chair by her bed. She stood for a moment in front of the full-length mirror (a mirror very similar to the one Georgia had in her bedroom, except that this mirror wasn't capable of allowing any unwanted eyes to spy into Diana's bedroom).
Diana liked what she saw reflected back to her. There was certainly nothing visible that indicated she was frigid. For that matter, there was no possible way she was going to believe she was frigid, no matter how often her goddamned husband had tried to dump his own inadequacies on Diana during the two-year course of their disasterous marriage.
Diana gave a toss of her blonde hair, watching the way her silky strands flowed outward in a sensuous halo around her head.
She had nice hair, nice eyes (blue), nice nose (pert), nice lips (full and sensuous). She had high cheekbones like some fashion models. She had a long neck, big breasts, narrow waist, long legs. In short, she had everything any man could certainly have asked for in a woman. So, why had her husband, after the first week of marriage, suddenly been unable to perform sexually? Oh, Diana thought she had the answer (that answer being that Mervin hadn't wanted a wife but a mother); but, Diana couldn't help having assimilated some of the blame.
Hell, maybe she should have let Karl come on up and screw her. It had been a hell of a long time since Diana had had real man-cock put to her.
So, why had she said no to Karl, when Karl was such a nice guy? Obviously, Diana had a few problems of her own. Oh yes, she could face up to them. One of her major problems being David. But, Diana didn't really want to begin any self-analysis now, did she? She was too fucking tired to worry herself with that shit!
She turned and walked away from the mirror, paying no attention whatsoever to the tantalizing display made by her firm ass in the reflecting surface of the mirror.
Diana turned on the water in the shower, adjusted the spray, stepped into the flushing liquid.
Goddamn, the water felt relaxing! She would have been content to spend the whole night ensconced within this sensuous wet-warm womb, but she knew she had to hurry and get her ass in bed. If Georgia got home and heard the shower, Georgia would know that Diana was still up. Georgia might have an inclination to ask Diana to come on out for a nightcap. And, Diana didn't want to do that, did she? Diana didn't want to face David quite yet on any kind of personal, face-to-face relationship. Diana just wasn't quite up to it-not yet anyway.
Diana stole the soap from its niche in the tile wall and quickly lathered her long, tapered fingers with the suds. Before replacing the soap, she rode its slick surface over the smooth curves of her full-blown breasts and down over the flatness of her belly.
Diana's caressing hands felt good as they glided over her water-glossed flesh. In fact, she was tempted to masturbate there in the shower: jam a hand up her cock-denied cunt until her whole body was trembling on her poking fingers. Because, there was no denying the fact that the gunfight earlier, accompanied as it was by the sounds of pain and men dying on the darkened city streets, had acted as a powerful aphrodisiac on Diana.
However, as sexually aroused as Diana was, there remained that other "certain something" inside of her which warned her of the possible consequences of doing with her vagina what it was demanding her to do.
There ... was ... simply ... no ... time!
Diana rinsed off her body and turned off the water. She slid back the door of the shower stall and stepped out. She reached for a large Turkish towel, her eyes automatically going to the small hole (now plugged) which existed in the bathroom wall off to one side. How many voyeurs had paid the last occupant of this apartment good money to stand on the other side of that wall (it was a clothes closet this time) and watch while the young woman stepped naked from the shower and played with herself there in the middle of the bathroom floor?
Diana shuddered, feeling the gooseflesh arise along her arms and legs, pimpling the large brown areola of her nipples.
Wrapping the large towel around her ample breasts (her nipples going harder as they chafed against the terry-cloth material), Diana left the bathroom and entered her bedroom.
She stopped in the center of the room and listened for sounds of Georgia and David. Simultaneously, her gaze was isolating the peepholes which had once given access (visually) to her room. She checked to make sure each of them (there were three) were still patched over.
Hell, what was she expecting: Georgia and David to be posed with their eyes glued to the holes? Those two probably had more immediate needs to satisfy than watching Diana dry herself off after a bath. Besides, Diana was almost certain, from the nature of the silence beyond her door, that Georgia and David hadn't come in yet.
Diana completed drying and carried the damp towel back to the hamper in the bathroom. She then returned to her bedroom, turned back the covers on her bed, turned off the lights, and crawled in between the sheets.
She tried to sleep. God knew, she was tired enough so that she should have dropped off the second she hit the mattress. So, why didn't she? Why did she just lie there, as stiff as a board, waiting?
Waiting for what for Christ's sake?
Diana started suddenly with the distant sounds of a key in the front door of the apartment.
Diana waited, continued listening, hearing the door come open. She heard Georgia say something. She heard a male voice reply. There was a combined laughter. The door shut. There were a few seconds of silence.
What were they doing out there? Diana found herself wondering. Her mind flashed with a series of erotic and obscene pictures.
David and Georgia would be kissing, their mouths straining, their tongues doing battle, their teeth pressing together in their sexual desire. Their bodies would be tight together, Georgia's big breasts mushroomed against David's police uniform. David's muscular arms would be wrapping Georgia's body, his hand gliding down Georgia's back to cup Georgia's firm, young buttocks. And down between David's muscular thighs, his big cock would be swelling to hardness (if it wasn't hard already), gathering strength and power for that moment in the offing when Georgia's legs would come open and David would be placing his prick downward into the moist female gash Georgia was so willingly offering. Oh, how big David's cock was, too, wasn't it? Oh, how big, and how thick, and how....
Stop it, Diana! Diana commanded herself. It wasn't right to imagine her own brother's body so vividly, was it? She had devoted way too much time to it in the past, hadn't she? How many times had she been thinking of David while opening her legs for her husband? And had Mervin sensed something to that affect? Was that why he was forever losing steam before he even got started? Could Mervin somehow tell that Diana wasn't thinking of him at all but of her own brother?
No, there was certainly no way Mervin could have known about David. Oh, he might have suspected Diana's fantasies about "someone", but not about whom specifically. Mervin, after all, didn't even know that Diana had a brother, did he? Besides, if Mervin had suspected, he wouldn't have missed the opportunity to throw it up in Diana's face: IT'S NO WONDER OUR MARRIAGE IS SO SCREWED UP IF YOU'RE FANTASIZING YOUR OWN GODDAMNED BROTHER EVERY TIME I TRY TO MAKE IT WITH YOU!
Someone laughed. David? Yes, David; and he was right there, wasn't he? He was right beyond Diana's closed bedroom door, down the hall, in the living room. Diana could tell by the renewed sounds that Georgia and David hadn't yet moved into Georgia's bedroom. But, then, maybe they weren't planning on going into Georgia's bedroom. Maybe they were stripping down to fuck out there on the living-room floor.
"Let's fuck right here, stud," Georgia would be saying (Diana could hear her saying something). "I can't wait to get that blood-engorged prick of yours rammed to its hilt inside of me."
"You've got a roommate, don't you?" David would be asking now (Diana heard his low voice).
"She's knocked out by now," Georgia would be saying, her fingers undoing David's leather belt before unzipping his fly.
"Jesus ... Jesus ... Jesus!" David was moaning; anyway, it sounded as if that was what he was moaning.
David and Georgia would step away from each other and quickly begin to strip, throwing their police uniforms into unruly heaps on the floor. Georgia's big breasts would come bounding free of her unfastened brassiere. David's thick prick would come bounding out of his dropped undershorts.
"Fuck me, stud, bastard!" Georgia would command. There was never any beating around the bush with Georgia.
Would Georgia fall back onto the rug, pulling David with her? Would she open her legs wide, hooking her heels in the small of David's back? Would she hump her hips upward, sinking her hair-fringed pussy up over David's big cock shaft until she felt the sweaty slap of David's bull-like balls against Georgia's puckered ass hole?
Or, would the two of them fuck standing up? Georgia wrapping her arms around David's neck and rising to her toes as David squatted slightly to bring his pulpy cock head into a nuzzling position against Georgia's eager pussy? Would Georgia lower her cunt downward as David was thrusting up ... up ... up...? No; they had just gone into Georgia's bedroom, hadn't they? Diana had heard the bedroom door shut and now the voices were no more than whispers muffled by walls and doors.
So, why hadn't they fucked right where they had been standing? Afraid Diana would come ;n and catch them at it?
Diana could physically feel the shuddering spasm inside of her that gushed lubricating female juices into her cock starved pussy. Sure of that profuse leakage, she was just as sure that some of it was oozing free of her pussy and was drooling down the inside of her milky thighs and into her ass crack.
Goddamn it, she should have had Karl come on up. Yea, goddamn it, she should have! She had been an ass ... ass ... ass!
Did Diana need a good fuck? Was that what was the matter with her? Was one good screw the panacea for all of her ills? Was the few-minute ride of Karl's big prick the one thing Diana needed to pull her out of whatever pit it was she had fallen into?
Hell, no! She didn't need a man! Any man! And, she sure as hell didn't need a man's cock, did she? What was cock anyway but a piece of rubbery flesh that moved in and out ... in and out? Hell, Diana's hand could do just as good a job. As a matter-of-fact, using her ex-husband as a basis of comparison, Diana's hand luul done a far better job than his prick.
Diana ran her right hand down over her breasts to her stomach, down her stomach to the blonde-pubic vee that clustered her crotch and grew to the puffy flesh that parenthesized her vaginal crack. She slipped her hand down further, curving her fuck-finger to hook the upper limits of her pussy.
Why in the hell had she ever married Mervin? Why? Or, was she only fooling herself by not admitting that she did know why she had married him?
No ... No ... No! To have married Mervin purely for those horrid suspicions of hers-those suspicions that sometimes forced themselves upon Diana-was indeed a perversion. If those reasons were the valid reasons, then the failure of Diana's marriage was undoubtedly more Diana's fault than it had ever been Mervin's blame.
God, Mervin had been one hell of a handsome stud, hadn't he? Diana remembered the first time she had seen him. She had glanced across the room, seen his thick blond hair, his classical features, his wide blue-green eyes, his dimpled right cheek, his cleft chin, his handsome body. And, what had she thought?
Come on, Diana! What in the hell did you think?
MY GOD, IT'S DA VID! Yea ... yea ... yea. She had thought it was David, hadn't she? For a brief moment, she had believed Mervin was her brother. And for three years thereafter-even in the marriage bed-she had continued to pretend that Mervin was David.
Although.., it ... hadn't ... been ... the ... same!
Not that Diana had ever actually gone to bed with her brother. Hell, no! It had been purely fantasy-that part. And, the very fact that it had been fantasy
(reality would have probably made it far easier for Mervin to live up to it), made it almost impossible for Mervin to come across as anything else but lacking.
Qh, God, Diana was sick, wasn't she? But the sickness hadn't been cured-by running away from it, either, had it? All that running had done was screw up Diana's life even more than it had been, besides leaving Mervin in a state wherein it would be doubtful if he would ever successfully service a woman; although, Mervin-during the messy divorce-had screamed out that he managed to satisfy a whole series of women who, unlike his wife, hadn't been carved of ice.
Goddamn, Diana shouldn't have run. She should have stayed. With David, that was: certainly not with Mervin.
But staying with David had simply become too much to handle, especially after that day David had touched her and Diana had touched him-down there in secretly private places.
Of course, the two of them had just been kids, hadn't they? Although, that wasn't quite true. They might have been mentally children, but physically they were both functioning adults. Diana, at fifteen, had been menstruating for more than two years. And David's groin was fuzzed with light blond hair. And, David's cock went hard. And, David's balls contained an ocean of gooey man-sperm whose heat Diana could still remember stringing her fingers.
It was that wonderful moment of mutual sexual discovery that had so frightened Diana into running, hadn't it? That wonderful ... wonderful ... moment had scared the shit out of her. Why? Well, aside from the fact that its incestuous implications were certainly enough to scare a fifteen-year-old girl, there had been something even more frightening about the idea that the more advanced incestuous longings she had only fantasized up until that point might well have become the reality had she stuck around. Because, on that sunny summer afternoon, there in the woods behind their home, Diana had discovered her brother could be manipulated by Diana into joining in the sexual games. And if Diana had had the ability to seduce David into mutual masturbation, then it would only have been a matter of time before she would have seduced him into....
"Ugh!" Diana grunted, her fuck-finger having hooked deeper to make contact with her distended clitoris. And Diana knew that, as good as her finger felt, David's cock would have felt even better. Oh, yes, she knew that without having ever sampled it inside of her. No cock, after all (not that Diana had seen all that many), had gotten her as excited as she had been that first time she had fisted her own brother's hard penis and had stroked it until it had spit out its milky goo.
But the thought of having David's cock letting loose its cum inside of her cunt instead of into her hand had been too horribly exciting a prospect, Diana having realized that it would have been too great of temptation to resist for long. So, Diana, having thought-at fifteen-that the only solution to her dilemma had been to put David at a distance, had run.
And where does a young girl run when she is only fifteen? She runs to her grandmother, doesn't she? She turns up on her grandmother's doorstep one day in tears. And gives what as her excuse for running? Certainly not that she had a gnawing desire for her own brother's cock and was running away from those perverted needs inside of her. God no! What she said was that she had been molested by her own father, and she could no longer stand to live under the same roof with him.
And would Grandma Miller believe that her own son had taken indecent liberties with his own daughter? Oh, yes, she would believe, wouldn't she? And not because Diana, so obviously scared, had told such a convincing story, either. Oh, no. She believed because she had once walked in and found her son putting his tongue on Diana's hairless pussy before Diana had even known what her father was about. His tongue had felt mighty good as it had traveled back and forth along the slicking of Diana's young cunt.
So, Grandma Ruth Miller, who hadn't been speaking to her son since that first horrible incident, had been more than ready to believe the lie as Diana related it. Not that Diana ever looked upon it as a real lie. When she had become old enough to realize what had happened, she had seen the way her father had looked at her with lust in his eyes, knowing that the only thing that held him back was the fact that his own mother had threatened to turn him over to the police if it ever ... ever ... happened again.
Not that Grandmother Miller had turned her son over to the authorities after Diana had arrived on her doorstep with tales of another sexual advance. Ruth Miller had merely called her son's house (Paul hadn't been there, so Grandmother Miller had ended up talking to Diana's mother).
"Tell Paul that Diana is not coming back there, Pamela," Grandmother Miller had said. "She's not coming back there-ever! And if he says one word to the contrary, I swear to God, I'll see that he's ruined."
Which wasn't just idle talk. Not only would Ruth Miller have gone to the police, but, failing in that, she would have had other means at her disposal to ruin Paul Miller. Paul's mother had still owned a nice little pile of Miller Electronic stock and had enough friendly ties with fellow stockholders to pull in the majority needed to kick the president of the company-that being Paul Miller at the time-out on his degenerate ass.
Paul having known he would be unable to successfully deny the lie, didn't bother to protest it. Possibly because he had known he had been tempted all along to further explore his maturing daughter's developing voluptuousness and, thus, welcomed her removal from the scene.
Pamela Miller, surprisingly enough, had been just as glad to have her daughter out of the way as Paul had been. While Pamela had been able to convince herself she was concerned mainly for the safety of her daughter from Paul's amorous advances, Pamela had secretly been jealous of Diana ever since that moment (maybe even before) Grandmother Miller had brought the house down with the screams of abhorrence at the scene Ruth had inadvertently come across in an upstairs bedroom.
So, Diana had gone off to Europe with her grandmother, growing spoiled on the money and the gifts Ruth had lavished on her in an effort to make up for the supposed abominations performed on Diana's person by Diana's father-Ruth's son. Diana had moved on to private schools and finally to college.
Diana's life hadn't been sexless before Mervin; but neither had it been all that exciting, either. Diana had lost her virginity to a dark-haired Italian in Lucerne, one spring vacation, all the while listening to his huffs and puffs and comparing them to the sounds of shocked surprise David had exclaimed that moment his cock had shot off in Diana's hand.
Just as Diana had spent most of her last ten years listening to the young men atop her, comparing them to David (or how she imagined David would sound), David ... who ... was ... right ... that ... moment ... in ... the ... very ... next ... bedroom.
"Ahhhhh, yesssss!" Diana sighed, her thumb and index finger tweaking the swollen bud of her clitoris.
And what a road Diana had traveled to get back to David! On several occasions, Diana had suggested to Ruth that it might be nice if Diana could once again see David. Ruth had been appalled at the idea, apparently believing-intuitively-like father like son. And had Ruth Miller still been living (she had since died of a stroke), it was highly un-likely that Diana would be here where she was now.
Of course, while Ruth's death had certainly simplified matters to some degree, they certainly hadn't made any proposed reunions as simple as falling off the proverbial log, either. Especially since Paul Miller had been completely cut off in Ruth's will (except for the pittance that Ruth's lawyers had assured would keep Paul from bringing suit against the estate). Diana had gotten everything, which certainly hadn't made her any welcome addition back in the Miller household as long as Paul had been alive.
However, by that time, the only thing which might have brought Diana knocking on her parents door was no longer living at home. David had, in fact, become a full-fledged policeman. Which Diana had found strange only until she remembered how David had always been fond of doing dangerous things. David had always been jumping the big gap between the house and the garage. At a picnic one summer, he had ridden the rapids in an inner tube before anyone had even missed him (he had broken his little finger in the process).
And that day in the woods-that day Diana remembered so well-something had happened, then, too, hadn't it? Something quite beyond the sexual, which was somehow-mysteriously-part of the catalyst which had brought them together in subtle incestuous sexual games. The two had climbed to the top of a pine tree, rocking the tree back and forth ... back and forth. Then, holding to the top, they had completely dropped their feet free, letting their combined weight pull the treetop down to the ground, David screaming his, "Let go!" just before the pine trunk could snap under the strain.
David and Diana had been panting after their ordeal. Diana's knees had been skinned (she would later get hell for her torn dress). David had a cut on his left cheek that was bleeding. Diana remembered the blood, remembered other things about that afternoon, too, didn't she? She recalled the glazed look in David's blue-green eyes. She remembered the bulge in the crotch of David's pants. She rememebered ... she remembered ... OH, GOD, SHE REMEMBERED ... she ... she ... she....
"EEEEEEIIIIIII!" Diana squealed helplessly on the bed, her body jerking out of control. Her juicy cunt spasmed violently around her plugging fuckfinger. Her clitoris pulsed against the rubbing tips of her index finger and thumb.
Diana's mind flashed one final time with the erotic visions of her brother's sweat-glossed body banging the total length of his cock inside of her. She then let out one long, low mewl of shame and enjoyment before collapsing exhausted on the bed.
Diana pulled her finger out of her slippery cunt, ashamed ... ashamed ... ashamed that, in spite of being ashamed, she had done what she had just done.
WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING HERE?
CHAPTER TWO
David Miller was hot. So hot that the blow-jot Georgia had given him on the way to her apartment had done very little to relieve the tensions building in side of him. He would have fucked the broad in the elevator if Georgia would have let him. David was al ready getting Georgia undressed (pulling off one of the buttons on her uniform) inside the apartment, when Georgia reminded him that she now had a roommate Diana.
"Hell, so what?" David had asked, working his hand up beneath Georgia's uniform blouse to cup one of Georgia's luscious breasts. "I've got a sister named Diana, too."
"Yea, but you don't know where your sister is," Georgia reminded. "But I know my roommate is right in the next room. And, she's not the type to get all that turned on by coming out for a snack to find us fucking on the floor."
"But I want to fuck you," David said, moving his mouth against Georgia's ear. "I want to Screw you right to this goddamned living-room floor."
"Sure you do," Georgia said, trying unsuccessfully to push David away. "But I'd rather have a bed against my back than a hard floor-if you really don't mind."
"But this floor has got a soft, soft rug on it," David reminded.
And Georgia was tempted. Sure as hell, she was. And the chances of Diana coming out for a look-see were pretty slim. Diana wasn't much into sex. Which was okay with Georgia, except that it left Georgia a little curious. Diana, after all, was one hell of a good-looker.
Lesbian? Yea, Georgia had even wondered if her roommie was a Lesbian when it got around that Diana wasn't putting out for any of the guys on the force-or for a boyfriend, for that matter. But, as far as Georgia could tell, Diana wasn't presently putting out for anyone-male or female. Whatever it was that had happened to Diana during her marriage (Diana never talked much about it, Georgia having found the info in Diana's personnel file), it had obviously spoiled Diana on sex. Which, as far as Georgia (and every other horny person at the station was concerned) was one goddamned shame. Georgia hadn't come across a pussy in a long time that she would have liked bumping with her own like the one Diana had between her milky white thighs.
But this wasn't cunt Georgia had to contend with now, was it? This was big. This was hard. This was a massive sexual truncheon inside of David Miller's pants. And it wanted to get out, didn't it?
"Come on, baby. Come on," David insisted. His right hand was at his crotch, freeing his fly so that his thick cock could eventually be pulled out through the breach.
"In the bedroom!" Georgia insisted. And the fact that David's right hand was occupied in undoing his pants allowed Georgia to succeed in breaking free. She kept on the move, reaching the medroom door just ahead of David. She hadn't yet reached the bed before he caught her.
"So, the bedroom it is," David conceded. He held Georgia closer with his left arm, using his large right hand to finally get his fat cock pried free of his containing trousers.
"You get your prick tracks all over the front of my uniform, and you're going to pay for the goddamn cleaning bill," Georgia told him, having heard that when David's cock got all hot and horny, it tended to be one hell of a copious leaker.
"So, I'll pay for the cleaning bill," David said, his cock finally coming out to jut through the zipper teeth of his open fly.
"I'll bet you say that to all the policewomen you lay," Georgia said.
"You have no sense of adventure ... no spontaneity," David said with a wide grin. He released his hold and stepped back, realizing that-considering where they were-it was probably ridiculous to screw with their clothes on. Now if they were in some alley with no bed in sight....
"You'll be surprised at how quickly I can get down to nothing," Georgia promised. And, true to her word, she was almost naked before David was down to just his pants.
Georgia fell back on the bed, opening her long legs wide in invitation.
"Jesus, you're slow for someone so anxious to fuck," Georgia said, dropping her right hand to her ravenous pussy and beginning to play with herself. "Looks like I'll have to get myself off while waiting around for you to get started."
"Bitch!" David accused good-naturedly. His pants dropped around his ankles. His thick prick stood at attention, thrust up and out through the crotch opening of his white underwear.
"Come on, David," Georgia said, thrusting her fuck-finger and index finger deeper up her snatch and twisting both of them there. "Ohhhhhhhhh, David ... come on and fuck this mother's cock-hungry cunt!"
When David pulled off his undershorts, his stiff cock was momentarily bent toward the floor. His prick was so hard that David felt pretty much as if his massive phallic tubing was actually going to break off at his hair-covered lower belly.
David got his feet tangled in his dropped underwear and pants, which meant he ended up hitting the bed with a force that made the springs sing. Finally free of the material binding his ankles, David crawled his face into the space between Georgia's splayed legs, getting a bird's-eye view of Georgia's fingers pushing in and out of Georgia's cunt like a dual-pronged cock. David's large, circumcised prick leaked a gushing of pre-seminal juices beneath his belly. The juices smeared on the blanket pressed beneath David's muscled stomach.
"You prefer finger-fucking your pussy?" David asked. 'Then, maybe I had better go look up your rom-mate and see what she's doing for the evening."
"Doubt if you'll get much luck in that area, stud," Georgia said, continuing to push and pull her now juice-slicked fingers. "Diana has turned down some of the best cocksmen on the force. Which means, you don't have a chance."
Which Georgia wasn't quite sure was true. David was one hell of a good-looker. So much so that there was certainly the possibility that even Diana might succumb to his considerable charms. Still, there was little point in going so far as to give the bastard an even bigger head than he already obviously had.
"I don't want Diana anyway," David said; although, he did want her. Diana reminded him of somebody. And, he knew who that somebody was, too, didn't he? Because not only did Diana have certain facial characteristics that recalled to mind David's siter, she also had the same name. Those two pleasant circumstances were bound to have David interested. He still had exotic wet dreams about that time in the woods when he and....
"Ugh ... ugh ... ugh!" Georgia grunted, bringing David back to the reality at hand. Georgia, uninterrupted by David, ha played herself to a minor orgasm which would only make her pussy all that much more receptive to David's blood-glutted cock once the studly man shoved it to her.
David, once again reminded of his swelling desire, moved his face in closer to Georgia's finger-fucked pussy, momentarily fascinated by his voyeuristic glimpses of pinkly glistening cunt folds as they opened and closed around Georgia's manipulating hand.
"Ohhhhhh," Georgia sighed, her climax over but her pleasure remaining on a high level.
David stuck out his tongue and licked a wet trail up along the inside of Georgia's left thigh, lapping up those juices which had been spilled, out of Georgia's cunt crack during the woman's orgasmic excitation.
Georgia, enjoying this latest attack on her body, pulled her legs upward, bending them at their knees. She then dropped her legs open, butterflying them on the bed to either side of Diana's cunt.
David's cock remained as hard as a rod of steel; but, he was momentarily content to leave it unsatisfied, able to derive a kind of strange-if decidedly masochistic-enjoyment out of his self-enforced deprivation. Besides, he knew from past experience that a slow, slow buildup, as difficult as such a buildup sometimes was, usually managed to reap the greatest rewards when that final cataclysmic wave of orgasm did come rolling in to engulf him.
David burrowed his face into Georgia's pouting pussy, his tongue lapping up the beads of translucent juices which had caught in the tangled fleecy curls of Georgia's pubic hair. From there, Georgia's sex tastes still heavy on his tongue, David licked that portion of Georgia's hand not sunk into the clinging depths of her pussy. Like a cat at a delicious bowl of heavy cream, David cleaned up whatever leakage of female juices were then available, feasting even more heartily as Georgia began to slowly withdraw her soaked fingers from the pit between her shapely legs.
"Eat me, stud," Georgia groaned, her hand finally coming free, giving David's lips ready access to the sexual mouth punctuating the meeting place of Georgia's smooth thighs.
"Sure, baby, sure," David promised, his lips moving within Georgia's brown pubic hair. "I'll eat you good. Good, baby ... real good. And then I'll have this little cunt of yours spasming like sixty on my fucking tongue, getting all juiced up for the feel of the real thing. And you know how you're going to like the real thing, don't you, baby? Don't you?"
"Oh, yesssss!" Georgia moaned, her ass screwing itself deeper int the bed before her hips arched her cunt upward in an effort to slip her pussy completely over David's darting tongue.
"Hot bitch!" David said, reaching his hands to Georgia's hot cunt, his fingers aiming upward toward the woman's hipbones, his thumbs hooking on the moist edges of Georgia's pouting pussy mouth.
Several mirrors on the wall, including the one giving viewing space from the linen closet crawl space beyond the wall, reflected back the sensuous tableau of David going down on Georgia's pussy.
Georgia's voluptuous body appeared white upon the bed, punctuated by the brown thatch of curly pubic hair between her legs, as well s by the round, button-like areole that capped each full-blown breast. The woman's face, flushed with building ecstasy, was startlingly attractive, framed as it was by Georgia's lush brown hair. The woman's brown eyes were dilated beneath thick lashes and well-defined brows. Her slightly upturned nose had a short run of freckles across its bridge. The woman's wide mouth was covered with a pale red lipstick which had gone wet and glistening from the flicking of Georgia's thick tongue.
Little could be seen in the mirror of David's ruggedly handsome features. His mouth had gone to a sudden leech-like resting on Georgia's cunt mouth, his nose resting on the crack, his forehead pressing against Georgia's lower belly. His blue-green eyes were shut, his long blond lashes resting against Georgia's sweaty flesh.
"Baby, baby, baby!" Georgia grunted, moving her hands into David's blond hair, combing the silky strands and finally anchoring her fingertips firmly against David's scalp. "You do know how to show a lady one hell of ... ah ... yessss ... good ... good ... time."
David used his handhold on Georgia's groin to push her cunt open wider, his tongue flicking into the breach to go wet on Georgia's pussy juices.
David hunched his lower body upward, coming more to a kneeling position. In the mirror, David's back was a long, low bowing that began at David's head on Georgia's cunt and terminated in the twin muscular mounds of the man's golden buttocks.
"Jesus ... Jesus," Georgia groaned, her body going helpless with little jerks as David's mouth worked over her vagina.
David's tongue played continuously over Georgia's cunt, darting in and out between the pink and glistening cuntal folds, simultaneously stealing liquid and adding salival moisture of his own.
Occasionally David's tongue would move in on Georgia's clitoris, dragging taste buds over it, the resulting chafing causing Georgia to squeal in delight as lashes of pleasure resulted to bathe her perspiration-sheened body.
David's heavy balls hung from the base of his thick prick, blond scrotal hair brushing against the finer hair covering the inner surface of David's muscular thighs.
David's prick jutted upward from his healthy, cum-bulged balls, its fist-like head pressed into the indent made by David's navel in the man's washboarded belly. David's cock mouth continued to leak copious pre-seminal juices some of which caught in the blond hair that haloed the man's belly button, the rest of which drooled downward along the impressive slopes of David's cock corona and onward to slick the truncheon-like shaft of the man's healthy penis.
Using his thumbs, David pushed Georgia's pussy slicing even further open. David pulled his head back, his eyes open to see the delectable pink folds that were exposed. Georgia's clitoris stood out in relief like a small man in the bow of a boat. David's tongue darted out, punching the clitoris and sending it into vibrations like a miniature tuning fork.
"Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Oh, baby," Georgia chanted, her ass grinding into the bed, her breasts jiggling on her rib cage, her flesh tingling with her ecstasy to be had from the playful beating Georgia's sexual teat was enduring beneath the expertise of David's tongue. "Ohhhhhh, ohhhhhh, Jesus, ohhhhhhhhh."
David knew Georgia was getting off on his tongue-fuck. Hell, he had gone down on enough women to know when they were shuddering in orgasm. He held tight to Georgia's spasming body, lovingly using his tongue and his mouth to make Georgia's climax as good as he could. However, when he felt the woman's sexual moment in ebb, he decided he had deprived himself of pleasure for just about as long as he was going to be able to do so. After all, he had been ready and willing to plug this bitch's hole right out there in the living room, and he had somehow managed to keep free far more minutes now than most men would have been able to do. Besides, he had done his good deed, proved to another horny broad that he wasn't just a wham-bam-thank-you-m'am kind of guy. He had let little Georgia here get her jollies off on his tongue so, now it was time David's prick saw some action.
"You ready, baby, for the big time?" David asked, rearing back and letting Georgia's cunt collapse in on itself, a thin line of wet juices flowing along the closed pussy mouth.
David came all of the way to his knees, dropping his large right hand down to take hold of his erect and blood-bloated penis. He twisted his fist first to the right and then to the left, wringing thick, translucent liquid out of his cock mouth. Using the spatula-like heel of his thumb, David smeared the new juices to join with the wetness already slicking his prick.
In the mirrors along the walls, David's chest and belly were played back, reproducing a man who was obviously in peak physical condition. His pectorals carved rectangular designs, punctuated by dime-sized nipples, and divided by a serated cleavage that opened up on a rippled abdominal plain. David's chest was almost completely hairless except for a decided line that passed down along the valley of his chest cleavage and then continued onward over his belly. The hair sprouted to pubic profusion at the more definite veeing of his thighs. The hair was golden, in places gone white in its blondness.
"Yea, baby, take a good look at what I've got ready for that tongue-fucked cunt of yours," David said, his right fist giving an additional corkscrewing motion that leaked even more juices. "It's going to go plugging so deep up that moist vagina of yours that you're going to feel it shoving your guts to one side just before it pushes its pulpy head right into the base of your pretty, swan-like throat."
"Fuck me, you shit!" Georgia moaned, helplessly dropping both hands to her cunt to take up the massage where David's tongue had left off. She was ready-JESUS, WAS SHE READY!-for each and every phallic inch that David had to give her. She WANTED his cock buried so deep up her cunt that its vein-latticed length was thrusting aside her guts. She WANTED the illusion that David's massive prick had penetrated all of the way through her belly and into her throat. Her orgasms (one on her hand, the other on David's tongue) had been good; but, Georgia knew she was destined for even better. Oh, it was great getting off on playful fingers; and, it was great orgasming on a guy's experienced tongue; but, where some women actually preferred finger-fucking or tongue-fucking, Georgia had yet to find anything to come close to equalling the pure, unadulterated enjoyment to be had from big, blood-engorged male prick. And, David had one hell of a big, blood-engorged penis just waiting to give Georgia just what the woman and David wanted, didn't he?
"Stick it in, stud," Georgia begged, her own fingers pulling her sticky cunt lips open to show David's cock the wet-warm pinkness awaiting violation. "Fuck my pussy like it has never been fucked before."
"Cop cock up cop pussy; is that what you want, honey?" David asked, knowing that if he didn't stick his cock in damned fast he would be risking one hell of an acute case of blue balls. "Cop cock blasting cop cum into spasming cop vagina?"
"Come on, bastard," Georgia urged, her hips grinding in an obscene but sexy roll that caused visible cunt membranes to stick and then come unglued, wet lubricating juices trailing between them.
"Want it, don't you, bitch?" David asked, knowing the answer. When, in fact, it didn't much really matter whether Georgia wanted it or not. What mattered now was only that David wanted to give it to her. And, by God, he was going to do just that!
David released his handhold on his stiff prick. He leaned forward, collapsing his muscled chest atop Georgia's nippled breasts. He felt those pimply, thumb-tack buds of hardness as they chafed against David's smaller nipples. David mated his washboarded belly with Georgia's softer one. He slid up along Georgia's front until the head of his cock burrowed in the brown pubic hair furring Georgia's lower belly.
All of his weight suddenly pressing down on the woman, David slid his right hand down along Georgia's flank. He lifted slightly, running his right hand in beneath his belly. His index finger found the moist opening of Georgia's pussy and inserted to make sure David had indeed located the target area.
"Give me your cock, bastard!" Georgia groaned, announcing that David's finger was up her cunt but was no longer enough for her.
"Sure as hell, you're going to get cock, bitch!" David told her. Keeping his index finger up Georgia's crack, David's thumb and little finger extended back to contact the wet head of David's cock and guide it to the slicing of female sexuality within the shielding brown pubic hair.
"Fuck it to me, stud!" Georgia begged, wanting David's cock, needing David's cock. She actually had herself believing that if she didn't soon get the feel of David's erect meatiness plowing her guts, she would go mad from having been denied it. "Come on, bastard. Come on. Jesus H. Christ, come on!"
So, David gave it to her. He socked his prick in so hard and so fast that it actually took Georgia's breath away. The woman's mouth came shooting open. Her eyes rolled back to show their whites.
"My God!" Georgia bellowed, her body now seemingly filled to capacity.
"I'll fuck it to you all right," David said, grinding his hard prick into place, his words exiting through passion-gritted teeth. "I'll fuck you like you've ... never ... fucking ... been ... fucked ... before!"
David pulled his hips up, bringing most of his recently buried cock inches out to the opening of Georgia's cunt. He then, with hardly a pause, rammed his prick home once again.
"Uggghhheeeiiii!" Georgia squealed, somehow finding her voice. True to David's promise, it seemed to Georgia as if the man's cock had penetrated her in-sides to the point of having plugged into the base of the woman's throat.
David gave another tug that brought a good portion of his sexual sword free of Georgia's clutching pussy scabbard. The downward motion that violently inserted his hard inches caused David's cum-ballooned balls to slap obscenely against Georgia's ass. The resulting pleasure/pain oozed upward into David's lower belly and sunburst its warmth into David's guts.
"Fuck ... fuck ... fuck!" David voiced, each word signaling either a withdrawal or an insertion of his hard cock. "Fuck ... fuck ... Jesus ... goddamn ... fuck!"
Georgia was wiggling like a fish out of water, gaffed on some monstrously phallic hook. She had been speared so quickly and savagely, and David had moved into his screwing momentum with such brutal speed, that Georgia wasn't quite yet really certain just what was happening to her. She was only acutely aware of a strange combination of pleasure and pain which was the direct result of her sexual membranes being battered to mush by the incessant pile-driving force of David's cock inside of her.
David dropped both of his hands down between Georgia's sweaty ass cheeks and the bed. His large fingers cupped upward, going claw-like in the soft swells of the woman's buttocks. He used his holds to pull Georgia's pelvis even tighter against his own. As he did so, David ground his prick more firmly into place, raising up slightly so that his cock back was twisting directly against the sensitive nub of Georgia's clitoris. David could feel the hardness of Georgia's swollen sexual stalactite biting into the man's sensitive penis flesh.
"Ugh ... ugh ... ugh!" Georgia grunted, unable to muster up any words that were even vaguely decipherable. She was simply temporarily beyond speaking intelligently, thrust to new heights of enjoyment on David's prick as that prick withdrew once again to its fist-sized head and then plugged once again inside of Georgia to the point where David's scrotum was mushrooming within the crease of Georgia's ass.
"Feels good, doesn't it, bitch?" David asked, knowing that it sure as hell did feel good. He knew well enough when his fucking was thrusting some broad into a real fit of ecstasy. And Georgia here was well on her way to floating away on Cloud Nine.
And, it was good for David, too, wasn't it? But then, there was no question at all that it would be good, was there? Not to take anything away from Georgia, who was one hell of a nice piece of ass, David would have had a good time fucking any cunt available, since he had been keyed to fever pitch by the shoot-out earlier that evening. There was nothing David had ever found to get him sexually psyched up like a little bit of good old-fashioned danger. As soon as the adrenaline started pumping through his system, David's cock went as stiff as a goddamned two-by-four. And that evening, the first bullet hadn't even been fired before David had felt his snake-like prick throbbing to life within his pants.
"Give it to me, fucker!" Georgia bellowed, finally having found her voice. Her legs came up oi the bed and hooked David's fucking body. Her ankles locked in the small of David's back, using gained leverage to swing Georgia's lower body up to meet every violent downward stroking of David's prick into Georgia's pulsating pussy. "Jesus ... give it ... give it ... give it!"
And David continued to be only too happy to oblige. When he fed his cock up Georgia's spasming cuntal sleeve, he gave all that he had-which was one hell of a lot when one considered that David's erect cock measured in close to a foot in length; and, its girth was of such a dimension that not even David's large right hand was able to successfully join thick thumb tip to fingertip around the bulky circumference. Yet, that total length and beefy roundness was completely swallowed by Georgia's cunt tube each and every time David's hips jerked downward and David's hard belly ground to a stop against Georgia's soft abdomen.
Granted, the cock-in-cunt fit was a tight one. But David's prick had a way of filling even the loosest of pussies. Of course, when a vagina was initially tight in the bargain (like Georgia's here), then there was only an additional pleasure to be had from an screwing. The snugness was accompanied by a certain drag of cuntal membrane that clung to the moving prick, sliding only at the last possible moment and then doing so in such a way as to burn a delicious frictional heat that made the cock seem poker-like within a raging furnace.
Not only that, but each outward slide of David's cock caused Georgia's cunt insides to threaten turning inside out. And the sudden push of David's prick into those same soft-wet cuntal folds threatened to cause Georgia's pussy to cave in on itself, suctioned as it was by the streamlining passage of David's hearty cock inches into the deepest vaginal depths.
"Yes ... yes ... ," Georgia moaned out in sexual bliss, wanting more and getting her wish. "Oh, Jesus, God ... hump my cunt ... you stud ... you, Jesus, stud!"
"Cop cock," David groaned. "Cop ... cop ... cop cock." And, he was thinking of how a bullet had come so close to him that evening that he had heard its whine in his ear, had felt its breath as it passed by his cheek. And, his cock had gotten even harder in his pants at the time because of the nearness of that death-dealing projectile, hadn't it?
And had it been because of the very danger inherent within the job of police work which had caused David to become a policeman in the first place?
"Beautiful," Georgia breathed, her voice trailing off into a low-moaning mewl. And, she rolled her ass on the bed, moving her cunt around David's fucking cock that was plugging it.
The room was full of sexual sounds. Not only the grunts and the groans of the two participants, but also other noises like the suction-like responses to sweaty flesh meeting and then coming apart, or the slapping of naked belly against naked belly, or the slurpy gurlings of juices stirred to a froth up Georgia's cunt and then vacuumed out on the trail of David's exiting penis, or the squeak of the bedsprings as David rode harder and faster within the pelvic saddle offered by Georgia's uplifted legs.
Each sound was an audio aphrodisiac only keying both David and Georgia to higher and higher plateaus of pleasure.
Muscles tensed inside of David's superbly chiseled body, pushing outward through softly bronzed flesh. Pectorals, abdominals, biceps and triceps pumped full of blood. Ass muscles dimpled, causing ass cheeks to cave inward along their mutually shared crease, each time David's hips fell to bury his prick to his balls up Georgia's accepting body.
"Oh, God ... God ... God!" Georgia mumbled, fucked by David's plowing cock to the verge of orgasm. She ran her hands down along David's muscled flanks, her fingers clamping into the hard flesh of David's ass cheeks. She squeezed, her hips swinging upward so that her pussy sleeve could once again completely ensheathe David's total prick length. "Oh, Jesus ... fucking ... God!"
And, David felt Georgia going off beneath him. He felt her cuntal membrances collapse in a death-like stranglehold around his inserted hard-on. He felt the resulting orgasmic vibrations that trembled the length and the circumference of Georgia's vaginal pussy tube.
David ground his total phallic meatiness into Georgia as far as it would go. His friction-ballooned prick went even more solid inside its sexual container, swelling cock hardness pushing outward on the wet-pink folds of female tissue wrapping David's cock like cellophane wrapping an all-day sucker.
David's scrotum was no longer flaccid, no longer dropped low from the base of his prick. It had, in fact, been pulled up tightly to the roots of his thick prick, drawn so closely to David's trunk-like phallic mass that both of his balls seemed almost returned to those cavities from which they had dropped upon David's arrival at puberty.
"Fuck meeeeeeee!" Georgia squealed, her guts in eruption, her body forced into a series of massive cataclysmic shudders that were so superior to what she had known on her own fingers or on David's tongue that the sensations actually weren't even comparable.
David gave a final withdrawal, pulling his prick free to its purplish cock head. He then rammed his cock home one final time and left it there, his balls mushrooming against the dark strip of flesh that connected the lower vee of Georgia's cunt to her ass hole.
"Take it!" David commanded, no doubt in his mind that Georgia was more than willing to do just that. "Take my ... goddamn ... male cock cream ... up your ... cop ... cunt ... cop ... Jesus ... cunt ... take it ... cunt ... cunt ... cunt ... take it ... Take It ... FUCKING-A, TAKE IT!"
And David's testicles, having finally been forced into containing far more sperm than they were capable of holding, let go their loads. Rich, ropy streamers of thick male cum blasted up through the hard cock David had pressed full-depth into Georgia's pussy. Gushes of wet-warm sperm exited David's pulsing cock mouth and draped glistening pink pussy membranes in gelatinous curtains.
"DROWN ME, STUD!" Georgia bellowed, hardly caring that her soundings of ecstasy were loud enough and forceful enough to carry to Diana who was several walls and several closed doors away. "SHOOT ME FULL ... FULL ... JESUS ... FULL!"
And David thought for sure he was doing just that. Even he was surprised by the seeming gallons of scalding cum that continued to pulse out of his body and into Georgia's hungry cunt.
The opaque sexual magma filled Georgia's sex cavity; and, finding nowhere else to go, it backed up along David's prick and came oozing outward to form a pearly halo around the base of David's plugged prick. Some of the wetness caught in the pubic hair growing around the roots of David's penis, some of it caught in the brown fur that was fuzzing the mouth of Georgia's cock-plugged pussy.
"AAAAAGGGGG HHHHHHUUUUNNNN GG-GGHHHH!" David groaned as the last delicious spasm rumbled through him, jerking his lower body to stir his prick up Georgia's cunt like a pharmacist often turned a thick phallic pestle inside a mortar.
The only sounds in the room were the sudden breathless heaves for air as the young man and the young woman finally began to return from the never-never land into which their pleasures had momentarily thrust them.
CHAPTER THREE
Her name was Tammy Lane. His name was Jeff Gregory. Anyway, he had told Tammy his name was Jeff Gregory. They had met at Aces, a bar-disco where the city's swinging singles (at least a good part of them) often made at least one appearance during the course of any given evening.
Tammy, a secretary for the custom firm of Linehan-Linehan, was out looking for a quick lay in the hay-with no strings attached-and Jeff (obviously out for a screw, too) had seemed like an ideal prospect. Not only was he ready with his money to buy Tammy several drinks (although, Tammy kept insisting she was liberated enough to do her own buying), but Jeff was one hell of a good-looking stud in the bargain. And although it was apparent that Jeff knew he was exceptionally handsome, he didn't come across as being as stuck on himself as some of his narcissistic peers had a tendency to do.
Jeff and Tammy had had a couple more drinks, had danced a couple more dances (he was a terrific dancer!), and then Jeff had asked Tammy if she would like to come back to his apartment for a nightcap-or whatever. Both Jeff and Tammy knew of just what that "whatever" consisted. Anyway, Tammy had though t she had known. As it turned out, she had been in for one hell of a surprise.
Tammy actually didn't know when Jeff had slipped her the Mickey Finn, probably because it was designed to work more slowly than most. Even when they were in the car, heading for Jeff's apartment, Tammy hadn't been too disturbed by the sudden heaviness that kept drooping her eyelids down over her large brown eyes.
Jeff ... had ... seemed ... so ... fucking ... nice!
When Tammy came awake, she was no longer in the car. In fact, she didn't know where in the fuck she was. And even when her eyes had correctly labeled the scene, everything was simply too bizarre for Tammy's mind to adequately comprehend that the reality was just that and not some liquor-spawned (she hadn't drunk that much) nightmare.
"Ah, she stirs," someone said. Who? Christ, how many of them were there? And, what were they? People? Men-with bared cocks jutting hard between their legs? Women-with red-painted nipples on exposed breasts?
GOD, WHAT IN THE HELL WAS HAPPENING HERE!
Tammy, still a little foggy from the drug Jeff had slipped her, must have unconsciously voiced that question verbally; because, someone in the room with her answered.
"It's not what is happening now, as much as what is going to happen."
"Where am I?" Tammy asked, her voice sounding very far away to her own ears. She was only just beginning to realize she was naked and hung from the ceiling....
BY CHAINS! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, SHE ... WAS HANGING FROM CHAINS!
Tammy jiggled, hearing the metal links that held her dropped from the ceiling rafter. She became aware of the metal manacles that secured her wrists. And, there were more manacles around her ankles, more chains holding her legs to large metal rings attached directly to the floor.
"Jeff?" Tammy asked, knowing something was bound to make sense sooner or later. This, after all, couldn't really be what it appeared, now could it?
HELL, HOW COULD IT BE WHAT IT SEEMED? There was simply no way Tammy could be naked, hung from the ceiling by chains, surrounded by five (yes, five: three men and two women) people, those people wearing hoods (yes, hoods).
"She wants Jeff," someone said. Who? The man standing furthest from her? Tammy thought she had seen his lips moving behind the hole cut in the black cloth bag he had pulled down around his neck and tied secure with drawstrings. "Lucky for us Jeff didn't want her?"
"Jeff?" Tammy asked again, still positive that there was something here she was missing, something that would metamorphose this horror into something more sensible.
"He has sold you for forty pieces of silver," the woman off to one side said. Tammy knew it was a woman, despite the bag that covered the woman's head. The voice, of course, had been female; but, there was also no mistaking the two massive breasts hung from the woman's rib cage.
"For more than forty pieces if I remember correctly," another man spoke. And Tammy was embarrassed to realize quite suddenly (oh, she had registered it before without really grasping it) that the man-ALL THE MEN, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE-had a hard-on.
Everyone laughed at some seeming joke Tammy felt had obviously escaped her.
"Well worth it, if you ask me," the second woman added, her smile obvious beneath the gaping mouth hole of her hood. "Certainly better than the one Daniel came up with last month."
"Who are you?" Tammy asked, feeling somewhat ridiculous conversing with what she continued to assume were purely fantasies of some nightmare.
"Givers of pleasure...." the man with the cock-ringed prick and hairy balls said, interrupted as he did so by the lady with the giant breasts.
"... and pain."
There were snickers of agreement; but, Tammy wasn't understanding any of it.
Where was she? Who were these people? What did they want? Where was Jeff?How had she gotten here?
Tammy was still no more the wiser when one of the women brought out a cat-o'-nine-tails she had been holding behind her back and brought all the multiple lashes down hard across Tammy's breasts and belly.
CHAPTER FOUR
Diana checked the clock by the bed, surprised to see that the hands were very little different in their placement than they had been the last time she had looked. Actually, it had been less than half an hour since she had heard Georgia's bellows of eruption beneath David's fucking cock. At that moment, Diana her own cunt alive with juices, had shut her eyes and commanded herself to go to sleep. She had actually thought she had succeeded-in fact, she possibly had; but, certainly not for any length of time.
And, certainly not for as long as Diana would have liked!
Half an hour. Hell, just half an hour. She had been hoping to sleep the night away, to wake up and find the sexual gymnastics of the next room over and done with.
What Diana should have done was get dressed and head down to the station to help Karl with some of those reports which had resulted from the gunfight earlier. But, although Diana knew she would be doing everyone a far better service at her own desk instead of lying here wide awake, she was afraid that her attempted exit from the apartment might bery well be heard by either Georgia or David-either or both who might come out to check on the reasons behind her departure.
Except that it seemed hardly likely that Georgia or David would be hearing anything above and beyond their own sexually-spawned racket, now did it?
Jesus, but Georgia had sounded like a stuck cow! On second thought, that was probably pretty much just what Georgia had been at the moment her bellowing had penetrated all of the way to Diana's bedroom.
Diana listened. Was that Georgia grunting off in the distance? Was that the sound of David's muffled moans of pleasure? Or was Diana only imagining the sounds? Actually, she wasn't hearing much of anything, was she, except her own breathing, her own heartbeat, and the steady tack, tick, tick of the bedside clock which refused to pass time as fast as Diana desired?
So, what in the hell were those two doing? Resting? After all, no one would fuck all night, would they? Could they?
Diana resented the fact that she couldn't seem to get the picture of David and Georgia's fucking out of her mind. Then, again, it wasn't all that odd at all, was it? Hell, no! David was her brother, wasn't he? Georgia was Diana's roommate, wasn't she? In short, Diana's brother was in that bedroom down the hall, fucking Diana's roommate. And, what did Diana feel? Jealousy?
Yes, as sick as it probably was, Diana did feel jealous, didn't she? She felt jealous that another woman-not herself-was being fucked by Diana's brother. And, Diana continued to feel jealous, even though she knew it was only natural for David to be fucking Georgia, where it would have been degenerately unnatural to have had David fucking Diana's juicy cunt.
Because Diana, having the inner knowledge that she had always had certain longings that "weren't quite socially acceptable" as far as her brother was concerned, could also realize that those feelings of hers weren't really healthy. Why else had she resisted by running off to Grandmother Miller's? If she had really wanted to get fucked by her brother, she could have gotten just that by biding her time and waylaying him once again in the woods behind their house.
So, Diana told herself, she wasn't all bad. She, as well as the next girl, knew all the old taboo bullshit about incest. Although, she had to admit that she was less frightened by the idea now than she had been as a youngter. Because, since she had jacked off David's big cock and felt his fingers playing with her pussy, Diana had done a lot of reading up on the subject and had-on several separate occasions-actually managed to rationalize that all the original reasons for barring incestuous relations had become archaic in the present day and age. After all, there were ways to prevent conception, and thus the risk of deformed children, weren't there? Hell, yes! Diana had been on the pill for years; and, even if a pregnancy did happen to come about, weren't there clinics (private and public) all over the place who performed abortions without asking all that many questions? And many of the incest taboos had merely been nothing more than a means of keeping peace in the household in days when every man, woman, and child was important for the survival of a tribe (and of the species), weren't they? There would have been nasty fighting if a man started hopping into bed with whomever was available-whether that woman was married to daddy, brother, or uncle. But shit, in this day and age, at least as far as Diane and David were concerned, who was going to care whether or not the two of them got into the sack together?
That was sick, though, wasn't it? WASN'T IT?
Still, the modern generations weren't grouped as tribes any longer, were they? No one gave a tinker's damn about anything known as tribe cohesion. And not even he survival of the species was anymore threatened with extinction if a few females-like a few homosexuals-decided that they weren't going to breed. Diana's fertile cunt was no longer of such value as it might have once been in the days when it was every woman's responsibility to be fruitful and multiply lest there be no men children to replace those who were so easily (and so early) killed by the very rugged and dangerous nature of that early world.
What in the hell was she thinking? Diana could often times wonder if she hadn't gone to the Police Academy, hadn't manipulated to get her assignment here only because she held out some hope of taking up with David where they had left off that day in the woods when Diana had been scared shitless (as well as so excited) by the prospect of having her relationship with her brother progress beyond mutual petting to more involved adult things.
But such thoughts were absurd, weren't they? Or, were they? It would have been easier for Diana to convince herself of her innocense in plotting for an incestuous liaison with her brother if she had decided on being a policewoman before she had learned that David had joined the force. She hadn't. Or, if she had been assigned to this district as only the result of chance. Actually, she had gone to a great deal of difficulty, pulled a great many strings, to get herself this present assignment.
And, it certainly would have made Diana more confident of there being no method to her madness if she wasn't here now on the bed, jealous beyond words that David had fucked (was still fucking?) Georgia off in the other bedroom.
What in the shit was she doing? Why was she so intent upon loading herself with some kind of guilt trip? There was certainly the possibility of other explanations for what she was doing, besides the assumed incestuous ones, wasn't there? After all, wasn't it only natural-yes, goddamn it natural-that a sister might want to get back on speaking terms with her brother? What with their father dead (Diana hadn't even been invited to his funeral), their mother having retired to Florida for bridge and gossip in the sun, it was certainly not all that strange that a sister make every effort to get back together with her brother again; although, David had apparently made very little effort to see Diana during the past ten years.
Was Diana hurt at all that David hadn't at least phoned or written? Yes, by God, she was; although, she didn't know why she should be. She, after all, hadn't even given David forewarning she was going, had she? No! She had just panicked and had pulled out. Having acted thus, could she really have expected David to search her out the first opportunity he had? He had possibly suspected Diana had done what she had done because of what the both of them had done in the woods behind the house. And if David had come to suspect that Diana's guilt had been so great that she had gone to such extremes to severe their relationship, there was no reason why he should have caused her any assumed additional embarrassment by seeking her out. Besides, looking Diana up might have looked as if David were out to renew an old "familiar acquaintanceship" which Diana had-by running away-seemingly made quite plain she was not ready to renew.
So, Diana had made her bed and had been forced to lie in it. And if she was now out to see and talk to her brother again, it certainly wasn't because of any secret desire to go to bed with him, was it? Hell, no! It was simply that they were both adults now and could handle their brother-sister relationship with far more aplomb and frankness than either of them had been capable of doing ten years ago.
However, if it was as simple as that, then why was Diana creeping around in secrecy? Why hadn't she simply gone right up to David and said, "Here I am, brother!"? Instead, although she had had .plenty of opportunity to reveal her true identity, she had gone to pains not to do so.
On the other hand, that was certainly explained, wasn't it? After a ten-year separation, it was best to wait for the right time and the right place for reunions, wasn't it? And the right time and the right place was certainly not right here and now, was it? Although, there was really nothing more that Diana would have liked doing than stepping into Georgia's bedroom (catching David and Georgia right in the middle of their screw), and proclaiming to David: "Brother, your sister is back!"
Diana was hot. She threw back her blankets, revealing her perspiring body to the night air. She ran her right hand down over her right breast, feeling the hardness of her nipple. Diana made a conscioius effort not to wonder just why her nipple was hard.
What was that? Sounds.. Sexual sounds? From Georgia's bedroom? Were the two starting up again? Was David climbing on for another upcoming ride to climax on Georgia's gyrating body? Was David positioning his bulky cock head to the hair-fringed crack between Georgia's milky thighs? Was he pushing so that his bulbous cock corona was stretching open Georgia's vaginal doors and sliding into the sensuous warmth beyond those guarding portals? Were Georgia's glistening cuntal membranes moving inward to lovingly enclose David's stiff meatiness and suck hungrily on David's prick as if cunt were really starving mouth?
Diana's right hand had left her breast and had slid down over her belly to her crotch, her fingertips resting on the blonde pubic hair veeing the soft triangular mound that punctuated the meeting of the young woman's thighs.
Yes, those were sexual sounds coming from that other bedroom, weren't they? Soft grunts and groans of pleasure, issuing from an insatiable stud and the woman he was humping.
Goddamn it, if they were going to screw, the least they could have done was be a little more quiet about it! Diana, after all, had to get up and go to work tomorrow. What with the sleep she was getting, she might as well have gone back to the station house and given Karl a hand with the paperwork. Did David and Georgia think Diana was possibly deriving any kind of pleasure whatsoever out of their muted heaves? Hell, Diana had never gotten all that big of a charge out of watching and hearing monkeys jack-off in their cages at the zoo. She wasn't getting any more pleasure now out of similar sound effects supplied by two adults in heat.
Or, was she? Wasn't her cunt just a little juicy? Wasn't her fingertips getting wet in the oozing liquid bubbling out of her vagina? And if her cunt was all soupy, wasn't that a sign that she was sexually stimulated by something? And if not by the sexual activities in the next room, then from what?
"Jesus, why don't the two of you keep it fucking down?" Diana asked audibly, consciously moving her hand away from her cunt. After all, hadn't she just spent long minutes trying to convince herself that her early sexual longings for her brother were purely infantile responses that had paled with each additional year of maturity? So, wasn't there something more than a little obscene about playing with herself while her brother was fucking Georgia down the hall?
And, he was fucking her, wasn't he? Christ, listen to those noises! Diana should have put them down on tape and peddled them to dirty old men through ads in those underground newspapers. Sound effects of love: that's what she could have called her product. And horny men could put on the records and tapes and play them every night while they masturbated in accompaniment.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Diana proclaimed when another loud grunting of sexual excitement penetrated the walls of Diana's bedroom and exploded with disturbing sensuality in Diana's ears.
Diana got out of bed and reached for her robe hung over the back of a nearby chair.
And, what in the fuck was she planning on doing? Huh? Was she going to walk down the hall and tell them both to knock off their piece in silence?
"Is that the kind of noise a brother should be making to keep his sister awake in the next bedroom?" Diana asked herself. "Well, is it?"
Hell, maybe she should just make a little noise of her own, letting those two know she was up and could hear their guttural sexual orchestration. Maybe that would at least let them subconsciously keep the racket down to a bare minimum.
Diana would go to the kitchen for a glass of milk. Maybe get a sandwich while she was there.
So, why in the hell was she creeping on tiptoes? Why was she opening the door to her bedroom as if the last thing in the world she wanted was to have the door squeak and reveal her presence? The whole purpose was in letting them know she was up and about (hearing everything) wasn't it?
Yet, her door was open. And, Diana was in the carpeted hallway, having made no sound loud enough to penetrate to Georgia's bedroom. And, now that she was in the hallway, the sexual sounds were louder.
"Fuck me ... fuck me ... ohhhhhhh, fuck me!" Was that actually what Georgia was begging; or, was Diana merely letting her imagination run away with her?
"Take it! Take it, bitch! Take it!" And, did men really say such things while they were making it? Mervin certainly hadn't. But then, Mervin never had "said" much of anything in the bedroom, having been so totally concerned with trying to keep his pathetic prick hard.
Why in the fuck had Diana ever married that poor sonofabitch? Because, he looked like...?
Hell, what was she trying to do now? Convince herself that she had married Mervin because he had physically reminded her of David? And, wasn't that notion absurd? Oh, granted, Mervin and David both had blond hair, cleft chin, dimpled cheek, exceptional body. But how many men in the goddamned world had bond hair, blue eyes, square jaw, rugged physique? And, they didn't all appear as if they were clones, did they? Hell, no! Each one was unique, as David was unique, as Mervin had been unique. The fact that Mervin had had certain characteristics similar to those of Diana's brother certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with the reasons for her marrying him!
So, once again, WHY HAD DIANA MARRIED HIM? Possibly because she had picked up that newspaper in that magazine store (the one that sold out-of-town newspapers), and she had seen her father's picture and the accompanying obituary: Business Executive Dead At Sixty-four. And, Diana hadn't even been invited to the funeral. Wouldn't even have known her old man was dead if she hadn't chanced upon that one newspaper.
Oh, it wasn't that Diana had so much cared that her father was dead. Everyone had to die sometime; and, she and her father had never been that close. And, he had made incestuous advances toward her. No, what really hurt was that David hadn't used the opportunity of his father's death to contact his sister.
And, while Diana had been feeling down and out and resentful that David hadn't come through, there was Mervin with his proposal. And Diana-for God-only-knew-the-real-reason-had accepted what had been destined for catastrophe from the very beginning. Because Mervin had had a whole gamut of his own problems which Diana (as wrapped up as she was in hers) couldn't possibly have given the time necessary to help sort out. So, the two of them had plowed straight ahead toward oblivion. And if Mervin had been having questions about his manhood at the time of his marriage, he must have been even less sure at the time of his divorce.
Diana should have tried to help Mervin. Really, she should have. But, he had been such a wretched disappointment compared to the fantasies Diana had lived with up until then. And, Mervin had looked so much like David that Diana had naturally expected him to perform in the bedroom exactly as Diana had always imagined David would perform-as David was so obviously performing now in Georgia's bedroom.
"Ugggghhhunnngghhh!" And, who was that? Obviously Georgia, unless David had another woman in there. Because the gurgled groan had issued from between female lips.
And Diana suddenly realized where she had crept during those last few seconds. She had automatically moved stealthily down the hallway to pause in front of the linen closet.
An accident? Or, did she know that the only thing that stood between herself and the actual witnessing of what was going on in Georgia's bedroom was this linen closet door? Because, once the door was open, all Diana had to do was squat down, move into the crawl space below the shelves; and, there would be the window into that sexual world beyond: the same window whose other side would be reflecting the activities on the bed to disguise the fact that Diana was even watching.
All ... she ... had ... to ... do ... was ... open ... the ... door. So what was she waiting for?
WHAT WAS SHE WAITING FOR? Jesus, what kind of question was that for her to be asking herself?
She was waiting because that was her brother in that bedroom. And, it would be Diana's brother who Diana would be seeing beyond the mirror. Her brother, for Christ's sake! Naked! Fucking a woman! That's why Diana was waiting. There was something disturbing about the fact that she should even want to look. Because, there were certain inescapable incestuous implications inherent in even the mere contemplation of looking. And if certain incestuous longings still existed for Diana after all of these years (after her exit from adolescene into maturity), then what in the hell had she proved by running away in t he first place?
"It was sick, wasn't it? Oh, yes, it was indeed sick! As much as Diana might rationalize it otherwise, as much as she did often rationalize it otherwise, it was still sick! David was her brother. David was her own flesh and blood. And, it just wasn't somehow right that thoughts of David fucking could always get Diana's pussy juice-sopped where the real thing with her ex-husband had often found Diana's pussy so dry that screwing had been painful for both Diana and Mervin.
Still, just watching David perform sex wasn't the same as actually performing sex with him, was it? Hell, no! There was a world of difference in between!
Of course, all aspects of incest and David aside, there was Georgia to be considered, wasn't there? After all, Georgia certainly had all rights to certain privacy, didn't she? Just because the two women shared living space, didn't mean that they shared everything else. Meaning, additionally, that Georgia's fucking with David was a personal thing, wasn't it? And Diana would have been infringing upon that private thing if she now spied on it. Right?
Well, if Georgia really hadn't wanted to risk being spied upon, then why hadn't she covered up that spy mirror the way Diana had sealed up all of the peepholes that gave access to Diana's bedroom? The very fact that Georgia hadn't covered up the mirror seemed somehow to insinuate a tacit permission for Diana to spy, didn't it?
"Yes ... yes ... yessssss!" Georgia was hissing, her sounds seeping out beneath the bedroom door up the hall from where Diana was standing silently.
Diana opened the linen closet, knelt down, and crawled into the space beneath the shelves. Feeling guilty-but oh-so-excited-she pulled the door securely shut behind her.
CHAPTER FIVE
David was naked, his back and ass against the bed, his head propped against a pillow.
Georgia had crawled crab-like up over David's middle, had reached down beneath her ass and had hoisted David's large cock to a position that brought David's pulpy cock head to the crease of Georgia's pussy.
Since Georgia's cunt was already sloshing with the seeming gallon of cum David's cock had previously blasted inside of it, and since David's prick was still slick with the veneering it had received while buried up Georgia's cunt, it was easy for Georgia to drop over David's prick and take David's swollen meatiness once again inside of her.
Georgia's cunt mouth slid all of the way down to David's thick cock roots, Georgia's brown pubic hair grinding to a stop within David's blond ones.
"Take it, baby. Take it," David moaned, bouncing his hips upward so that his pelvis bucked into Georgia's hanging cunt. "Yes ... yes ... Jesus, yes."
Georgia leaned forward, her knees pressed to the bed to either side of David's hips. She palced her hands over the man's muscled pectorals, feeling his hard nipples against the flats of her palms. She pulled her ass upward, letting David's massive cock meatiness begin to pull free of her cunt. As the cock drug free, the resulting tug and suction caused Georgia's pussy membranes to pull outward with David's cock toward the pussy opening. Juice bubbled free of Georgia's sexual slicing, dripping down to wet David's balls which were mushroomed on the bed between the man's muscled thighs.
"You sexy bitch!" David exclaimed, coming up to a sitting position as Georgia's pussy sunk once again to the base of David's cock. "You sexy, sexy, bitch!"
David wrapped his arms around Georgia's body, mashing his pectorals against Georgia's full breasts while Georgia's fingers traveled around to the crease David's spine made down the length of his back.
David ran his right hand up into the nape of Georgia's neck, supporting Georgia's head with his cupping thumb and fingers. He leaned his lips into Georgia's, the pressure forcing Georgia's mouth to come apart. Immediately, David thrust his large, thick tongue into the breach, his tongue tip washing Georgia's teeth and gums before doing sensuous battle with Georgia's tongue as the latter came out to offer playful resistance.
"Mmmmmmmm!" David hummed into Georgia's mouth as his nipples grew harder yet on his chest, as his cock grew harder yet up Georgia's pussy. David's balls began to yank up off the bed to be gathered in a contracted scrotum at the base of the man's tree-like prick trunk.
Georgia continued raising and lowering her cunt along David's upjutting prick. Her pussy lips, like a sexual vice, squeezed along the total length of David's prick, milking the phallic teat for even more juices to add to the natural lubricant already swimming inside of Georgia's cunt cavity. On each upswing, liquids ran free of Georgia's vaginal slicing and rolled thick and oily down along the vein-striated trunk of David's hard penis.
Georgia always made it a point to keep on raising until she felt her pussy mouth collapse into the groove caused by the circumcised flaring of David's cock corona from the man's thick penile neck. Then, with a slight torquing movement, Georgia would screw her tight cunt right back down David's phallic pole.
Up and down ... up and down ... Georgia rode, like a horse on a merry-go-round. And like a merry-go-round, there was music in accompaniment: the uncontrollable soundings of two people in the prime of life who were slowly but surely building toward one more mighty sexual explosion.
"Ride me, baby. Ride me!" David commanded gutturally, his ass giving responsive little bounces on the bed. "Oh, Jesus, yes ... ride ... my ... big, big, big ... cop cock."
David's commands, of course, were superfluous. There was, after all, no way that Georgia was going to do anything except ride ... ride ... ride ... this giant cop cock. Because if the drag of David's hard penile inches was exciting beyond belief for David, then it was equally exciting (if not more so) for Georgia. And in her present superior position, Georgia was able to adjust the entering and exiting of David's blood-engorged meatiness so that David's broad cock back pressed tightly against the budded little nub of Georgia's tack-like clitoris. Waves of tingling ecstasy sunburst from Georgia's molested clitoris and up into the rest of her body. The young policewoman's whole being was becoming infused with a deliciously itching heat that only egged her on to more and more dancing over David's supporting penile pole.
David's cock was so hard anyone would have been hard-pressed to realize this was the third time in a very short while that David's prick had pumped toward climax. On the way to the apartment, David had shot off into Georgia's mouth in the squad car. Shortly after entering the bedroom, David had erupted yet a second time. Now, David's cock was priming for yet a third go. And David knew, from past experience, that this third orgasming wouldn't be the last for this evening-not by a long ways. Because, under even the most normal of circumstances, David was good for more than just a trio of blast-offs. And the happenings of earlier that afternoon-as exposure to danger always seemed to do-had gotten David hotter than all hell.
David hadn't decided to be a police officer only because he was out to do whatever he could to protect his fellow man, had he? Oh, that was certainly part of it. More was simply the fact that he had felt he would be good at that type of work, which-it had turned out-he was. However, somewhere beneath all of that other motivation, David couldn't help admitting that he got from his job a kind of lasting sexual high that he could have derived from very few other jobs. Oh, he might have been a fireman, maybe, or even a circus performer, or, maybe, even a construction worker on those big skyscrapers (all of which would have probably satisfied his need for excitement); but, since his father had insisted he go to college, it had been almost as natural as night and day for David to find himself gravitating toward criminology.
David's father, needless to say, had been none too pleased by David's choice. Paul Miller, after all, had been in business and had hoped that his son would follow in his footsteps. Paul had, however, early realized that he had very little sway over either of his children. And while he had gone to his grave not knowing what had ever possessed Diana to tell that one final family-splitting lie about him, he had likewise died without ever really knowing the son he had fathered. As a matter-of-fact, there had been times (frequent times, as a matter ofact), during the course of his life, when Paul Miller had found himself seriously wondering if he wouldn't have been far better off having never married and having never had children at all. However, he had been born and raised in a generation and age when marriage was simply what every man was expected to do, lest everyone think he were gay. There came a time when Paul had actually been envious of his own children (correction: child, since Paul had since disowned Diana completely), and David's growing to maturity in more progressive times. As far as Paul had been concerned, it seemed far more advantageous to continually play the field, or to have a live-in lover (to be replaced once he tired of her, she tired of him, or they both tired of each other), then it was to go through the charade of a happy marriage-when Paul's marriage had never been all that happy.
"Getting there, stud?" Georgia asked, giving her lower body a grinding rotation that stirred David's hard prick deep inside of her. "Getting ready to fill this sexy bitch with another deluge of wet-white man-cream?"
"Is that what you want, baby?" David asked, knowing that his balls were pulled so far up against the belly of his prick that they seemed almost disappeared. He was also experiencing a burning heat inside his cunt-chafed cock which told him that if Georgia did want the gushing spew of David's sperm inside of her, she wasn't going to have to wait too damned long to get it.
Because, David was just about to give Georgia just what she wanted!
"Got a fire up your pussy that you want this stud's fire hose to put out?" David asked, his head burrowed into the curve caused by Georgia's neck meeting with the woman's shapely shoulders. David's lips moved against Georgia's flesh, tasting the aphrodisiacal sweatiness of female skin gone wet with sexual heat. "Want big stud prick here to send in a flooding of watery spunk to bathe your guts and extinguish the holocaust?"
"I want you to fuck me!" Georgia moaned. "I want you to plug my cunt ... screw my pussy ... hump that man-prick so deep inside of me that when it finally lets go I'm going to taste its cunt-filling cum all of the way up in my mouth."
"Sure, baby, sure," David promised, feeling the tightening in his abdominals, chest, thigh and throat muscles that told him he was poised on the brink and was ready for that long and luxurious fall. "You are ... going to ... get ... just what you asked for ... and more ... More ... FUCKING ... UGHRREEEIIIIII ... MORE!"
"Drown me!" Georgia bellowed, caught off guard by a sudden explosion inside of her that sent her into an orgasm even before David's cock had progressed to the point of belching out its hot and heavy spermal wads. "DROWN ... DROWN MY ... OH, OH, SHIT, OH ... I'M CUMMMMMMMMING, YOU SHIT ... I'M ... OH, GOD, I'M ... I'M ... I'MMMMMMEEEEEEIII-III!"
Georgia corkscrewed her cunt cunt down to the very lower limits of David's prick and left it there. Her spasming vaginal muscles completed the work that her up-and-down momentum had initially begun.
"Here, baby ... HERE!" David bellowed; and, as if somehow hoping to put even more of his cock inside of Georgia than he had already, David's hips bucked upward, bruising pelvic bone against pelvic bone. David's blond pubic hair caught in brown pubic hair, causing pulling pain that went unnoticed beneath the more overpowering deluge of pure pleasure. "HERE ... COMES ... COMES ... COMES ... MY ... CUM ... CUM ... CUM ... YOU ... COCK-HUNGRY ... BITCH!"
And, David wasn't lying. Because even as he was in the process of gutturally announcing it, his magmatic cum was exiting the pulsing cock mouth that punctuated the tip of David's fist-sized cock corona.
Shot after shot of wet-warm cum left David's prick as streamer-trailing comets. The loads of sperm splattered Georgia's pink-glistening cuntal membranes, draping the lubricated dampness with an opaque veneering.
"YESSSSS!" Georgia hissed, her eyes gone wide, her head dropped back on her neck so that her throat tendons were standing out in high relief. "JESSS-SUSGSS ... YESSSSSSSSS!"
And unbeknownst to either David or Georgia, a few feet away, behind the mirror on one wall (the same mirror that was reflecting back the exotic tableau of male-female eruption), David's sister was lost in her own orgasm.
Diana's hot cunt spasmed around her finger-fucking hand. Diana's wet-warm juices drooled down over the young woman's wrist.
"Uh ... ugh ... ugh!" Diana grunted, her teeth biting hard into her lower lip, keeping her sounds muted to the point of being undetected beyond the mirror.
CHAPTER SIX
"I don't think so," Diana said. Yet, despite herself, she couldn't help getting just a little tinge of excitement about being asked to volunteer for the vice squad on this particular assignment. Her brother had been recently assigned to vice, hadn't he? "I'm not too sure I could hack all that undercover shit. Besides, what about Gracie and Helen?"
"Can't use them on this one, babe," Captain Harry Morgan said, tapping the eraser end of a long yellow pencil on his desk. He was simultaneously giving Diana the once-over, all the while lemembering the victims (the last five, anyway, who had gotten up the guts to come to the police) had been blonde. These freaks-whoever these freaks were-just might have a penchant for blondes. Besides...."We've got to have somebody completely new, someone that no one on the streets has seen working vice before."
"I just don't know," Diana said. Although, it was tempting. What if she got assigned to the same case with David? If they got close enough to work together, would David wake up to the fact of whom Diana was? "You did say this was volunteer work. Right?"
"You wouldn't mind my giving you a short briefing before you give me your final turndown, would you?" Captain Morgan asked. And, knowing Diana could hardly deny him that much, he opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a manila envelope which he slid over to Diana.
Captain Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his swivel chair. The chair squeaked beneath his weight.
Diana, correctly assuming that Captain Morgan expected her to examine the contents of the envelope, proceeded to open it, spilling out the contents on the desk. What she found were several 8 x 10 glossies of a couple nude females. The photos showed obvious whip marks across the buttocks, back, belly, and breasts of each woman. However, since the lash marks (despite being numerous) didn't seem to be all that serious, Diana wasn't really sure if they were what she was supposed to be singling out for examination or not. However, a further scrutiny of the photos (there were ten: five of a rather attractive young blonde, five of another blonde-the second not nearly as pretty as the first) showed Diana that the only thing common to all ten pictures were the striated markings on the women's milky skin.
"Wife beating?" Diana ventured. She couldn't begin to imagine how vice would be involved in wife beating, let alone how they could use Diana undercover on such an assignment.
"No, not wife beating," Captain Morgan replied; but, he didn't seem any too quick to supply any more light to the subject.
Diana glanced over the photos again, wondering vaguely if Captain Morgan were determined to play twenty questions until Diana came up with whatever it was that-if it were obvious to Captain Morgan-continued to elude Diana.
Diana thought maybe it had something to do with a porno ring; but, the pictures didn't look as if they had been posed to portray the least bit of eroticism.
"Neither looks underage," Diana ventured finally. She was sorry; but she wasn't any more enlightened as to what kind of a case she was being asked to volunteer for than she had been before the Captain had supplied the photos.
Captain Morgan came forward in his chair. Stretching across the desk, he separated two of the photos from the stack: one of each girl. He tapped his right forefinger on the less attractive of the two.
"Mildred Henning," he said. He moved his finger over to the other. "Tammy Lane."
Diana waited, hoping Captain Morgan was going to go on, since neither of those two names were even vaguely familiar.
"Both women were picked up. by a young man in singles bars on the west side of town. Miss Henning by someone called Daniel Morrow, Miss Lane by someone called Jeff Gregory. Probably both aliases."
Diana waited. She didn't have to wait long. Captain Morgan had obviously decided a more direct route was the best one.
"Each time there was small talk, a few drinks, a few dances, ending in the expected invitation back to the guy's apartment for a little fun and games."
Diana, at this point, had mistakenly concluded that Daniel Morrow and Jeff Gregory were one and the same man who ... Who what? Who picked up girls, took them home, beat them with a whip?
"However," Captain Morgan continued, "before either young woman got to where she thought she was going, she ended up passing out. Probably, the guy slipped a Mickey Finn into one of the drinks. When the young lady woke up, her supposed one-night stand had taken a powder."
"With her money?" Diana ventured, wondering if she were finally beginning to see whatever the hell it was Captain Morgan was suggesting.
"It's not robbery we're dealing with here," Captain Morgan said, putting Diana right back into darkness. "Miss Lane, as a matter-of-fact, actually swears she came out of this with twenty bucks to the good."
"So if it's not robbery, what is it?" Diana asked, wondering if Captain Morgan was ever going to come out with it.
"Beatings ... you've noted, of course, the whip marks. And, multiple rape in the bargain."
"Multiple?" Diana ssked, her curiosity naturally aroused.
"Miss Henning reported seven people involved: four men and three women. Miss Lane said there were only five. But each time, the victim was chained, gone over with whips (Miss Henning reported continual use of a paddle), and then molested."
Captain Morgan slid back across the desk and went back to his original leaning position in his chair.
"What we have is a group of kooks on the loose who are paying men to pick up young ladies to be delivered for perverted purposes," Captain Morgan said. "More than a little sick, wouldn't you agree?"
"Hell, yes," Diana agreed; but then, what else could she say? It had, after all, been a leading question, hadn't it?
"And those two women haven't been the only two victims, either," Captain Morgan said. "There have possibly been as many of ten who have been picked up over the last year in this city alone. A couple of years ago, there was a group operating under the same MO in Los Angeles."
"Same group?" Diana asked, getting a funny little feeling in her gut as she realized that Captain Morgan was undoubtedly suggesting that Diana be used as bait for the next Daniel Morrow or Jeff Gregory on the prowl to pick up women for his group of perverted employees.
"Don't know for certain," Captain Morgan admitted, pyramiding his fingers beneath his square chin. "We do know that there's a possible connection between the LA operation and a woman called Helga Svenson who-quite by strange coincidence-we now have in residence within our fine city. Miss Svenson used to cater to some of her customers' more kinky tastes until it got a little hot for her around LA when some major politican was found wandering around outside her place wearing nothing but a pair of police handcuffs and a butt-plug."
"But, you don't have anything definite on her yet?" Diana asked. The whole thing sounded more than a little bizarre; but that didn't mean it wasn't coming off just the way Captain Morgan was describing it.
"We've got a man on it. David Miller. You know him?"
Diana felt a little somersault in her guts. She nodded yes.
"He and my roommate had a thing going for awhile," Diana observed, knowing that that particular bit of insight wouldn't be news to Captain Morgan. The way the Captain didn't bother to make comment let Diana know that she was right. There weren't too many secrets around a precinct.
"You'll be working with Miller and Stan Wellington if you decide to come in on this one," Captain Morgan said. 'They're both good men; although, I won't for a minute try to minimize the potential danger to you even with those two men backing you all the way. We are, after all, dealing with some pretty shrewd operators here. And even though the LAPD had their eye on Miss Svenson, they never did pin anything on her-either on this group thing or on a one-to-one customer basis. We've got to be careful she doesn't start screaming police harassment before we get anything concrete enough to haul her ass in."
"And my job, if I volunteer, is what?" Diana asked. "Spending the next couple of months in a whole line of single bars with the one-in-a-hundred chance that some guy is going to pick me, over several thousand other horny women, to deliver up to a group of SandM freaks?"
"We've had the police artist draw up a picture of both Daniel Morrow and Jeff Gregory from the descriptions given by the victims. We're hoping that will cut down the element of chance. After all, it seems hardly likely this group would use a new procurer every time they wanted a new victim, wouldn't you agree?"
Diana shuffled through the photographs still laid down on the desk in front of her. If she did volunteer for this assignment, and if things didn't go right, there was the very good chance that her naked and whip-striped body would be among the photos next looked at by a policewoman brought in to volunteer for the case.
"You want to take a little time to think about this?" Captain Morgan asked, wondering how the prospect of being gang-raped mentally affected this policewoman who already had a reputation for being anything but generous with her sexual favors. Still, surprisingly enough, Captain Morgan had found Diana hardly blinking an eye when he had mentioned there would be no watertight guarantees that she wouldn't become the group's next victim. Possibly, there was a steam boiler building beneath her reported icy exterior. If Captain Morgan were younger ... if he weren't married ... if he didn't have two kids ... if sex weren't actually becoming more bother than it was worth....
"I'll let you know tomorrow," Diana said, gathering up the photos, tapping their combined lower edges against the desk and filing them back into their envelope.
"Fine," Captain Morgan said, wondering-despite himself-what it would be like to chain this woman cop up and ram his hard, blood-engorged cock upward between her helplessly splayed legs.
Captain Morgan felt the sudden pulsations of his thick cock going into erection; and, he cussed himself silently for having indulged in his little bout of harmless sexual fantasy. What, after all, was he supposed to do now with his hard cock? Erections came up on him so seldom anymore that he didn't have a steady hooker hanging around in the wings to take care of him. And his wife always had a headache whenever Harry was up to fucking her.
Captain Morgan followed Diana out of his office, watching the sexy swing of Diana's firm little ass. However, when Diana turned left, the Captain turned right and entered the men's room.
Picking a vacant stall, Harry pulled the door closed behind him and unbuckled his belt.
A few seconds later, using stiff toilet paper to wipe his hand clean of his pitiful discharge of cum, Captain Harry Morgan was musing on the sad state of affairs that had him finding it somehow preferrable to whip his own hard-on to climax, instead of going to the effort needed to line up a warm cunt to poke his prick into.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"I want to take you to my place and fuck you until you'll never want to be fucked by any other man again because I'm so good," David said to the attractive blonde woman on the bar stool next to him.
Around them were walls, floors, ceilings and a crush of people, all splattered with light reflecting off three massive crystal globes twirling above.
Helga Svenson gave David an attractively wide smile that bared a line of fine white teeth framed by pink-tinted lips.
"Really?" Helga asked, not laughing as she would have normally laughed had someone said what David had just said. Helga Svenson had, after all, heard about every kind of come-on anyone had to offer. And, it was hardly likely that there was any stud in existence (male or female) who could give Helga sex so spectacular that she would be spoiled for sex with anyone else. Still, it was always fun-on occasion-to surrender to such appealing fantasies. After all, there had been a time when Helga had been something other than the thoroughly jaded courtesan she now was. There had been a time when she had been fucked by a man and thought-oh, how innocent she had been!-that there was really a big difference between one fuck and another.
"I've got a big cock," David said. "And, I'm not one of these wet-behind-the-ears kids who don't know how to use the jackass pricks the good Lord gave them."
During his past few weeks of surveillance, David had discovered that Helga very seldom went home with anyone; but, when she did-or, so the scuttlebutt went-the guy was usually hung like a horse.
"Didn't anybody ever tell you that it's not the size of the sex organ but what a man does with it?" Helga asked. She gave David a more thorough once-over, decidding she liked what she saw. What she had here was definitely a man and not some kid or closet faggot posturing as one.
"Yea, but didn't I just tell you I know how to use it?" David reminded. "And while a small-cocked pro may have a big-cocked novice beat all to shit in bed-performance, no one-but no one-has got anything over on a well-hung stud who knows how to use the twelve inches anchored at his groin."
"Well, your invitation has certainly been tempting," Helga admitted, using the tip of her tongue to add' additional gloss to the veneer of slick already covering her pink lipstick, "but, I'm afraid I'll have to pass this evening."
"My loss," David said, giving a decidedly little frown of defeat.
And Helga liked the way David had the good grace to accept rejection as if he still didn't think himself any less of a man. Now, there were actually some guys-probably the majority, as a matter-of-fact-who would have come back with a hurt: "Your loss, baby!" Helga had no patience with men whose masculine facade could so easily be shattered. Probably because she had spent a lifetime catering to such individuals who paid her to pretend they were more of a man than they really were.
"Do you really have a big cock?" Helga bantered, once it was obvious David had no intentions of fleeing like a dog with his tail between his legs. David had turned to the large mirror behind the bar and had appeared to be temporarily engrossed in checking out the other likely candidates for his considerable charms.
When Helga asked her question, David turned readily toward her, as if to say: "Even if you do have other plans for this evening, I'm still willing to enjoy your conversation. I am, after all, confident enough of my eventually connecting with someone this evening that I don't have to be on the prowl every goddamned minute of the night for fear that I'll miss out on my one-and-only chance of scoring."
"Maybe I've done enough bragging, huh?" David suggested, giving a little-boy smile that didn't seem affected; although, he did know the appeal it usually had for woman. Of course, Helga Svenson wasn't any ordinary woman; but, that only meant that David was required to use each and every one of his tricks to bag her.
"Why don't I show you how sorry I am that I'm not going to get a firsthand look by buying you a drink?" Helga suggested. Actually, she tried to tell herself she really wasn't interested in this attractive young man; but, if she wasn't, why was she laying out these little tests in order to get a better look into David's head before venturing close enough to get a look at what he had in his pants?
And offering to buy David a drink had been a test, hadn't it? A test which David passed with flying colors.
"Scotch," he told her. Not saying that he already had a drink. Not saying that he never let women buy him drinks-he doing all of the buying. He simply accepted Helga's offer graciously, as if it were n big thing. Which it wasn't-at least as far as Helga was concerned. So, why did so many men continue to feel threatened whenever a woman began to infringe upon customary ceremony which had for so long (and wrongly, too) been delegated as the exclusive territory of the male of the species?
Of course, there was a certain kind of man who accepted drinks from women with just as much ease as David had just done. And Helga had met her share of those leeches in her time. Not that she had personally had anything to do with the stud services they offered lonely old ladies for a price. It was just that gigolos were a segment of that sexual underground of which Helga had been a part since she had been old enough to know what a man's cock was for and what a woman could do to get it off.
But Helga couldn't really believe that David was merely a hustler. Still....
"How much do you charge? Just in case I am in the market the next time you come around?" Helga asked.
And, by asking, she was taking the risk of bruising her own ego, wasn't she? And just because Helga had erected a hardened shell around her, that wouldn't allow her hurt to show even if it did turn out that she was wrong about David, she could still hurt-way down deep. And, it was never a pleasant thought for any woman to find out she had faded to the point where men were assuming she had to pay to get a cock rammed inside of her.
David was in the process of giving Helga a very funny expression, as if he actually thought he might have misheard her there within the constant din of inane chatter that had a way of distorting every conversation.
"For you, it's free-any time," David said finally. "Mainly because by the time you reach the point where you have to pay for what I have to offer, I'll be too damned old and decrepit to deliver."
And Helga was suddenly thoroughly interested in David Miller for two very good reasons-not the least of which was the fact that Helga found him sexually attractive (which was no mean compliment, considering the gamut of men Helga had had selection of during her lifetime). Of equal importance, however, was the fact that Helga saw just how powerfully attractive David would be to any ordinary woman. And Helga was always interested in bringing under her wing that exceptional type of man who could attract women-really attractive women-to them like sugar attracted flies. Both Daniel Morrow and Jeff Gregory had that certain "something"; although neither of those other two men had it to quite the extent that David Miller so obviously had it.
Not that Helga had been out actively seeking recruits for her business on that particular evening. But when a prospect stepped up and almost knocked her over, she would have been a fool not to recognize him for what he was.
Helga motioned to the bartender and ordered the Scotch she had promised David. She then ordered herself another champagne cocktail. All the while, she kept her eye on David in the mirror, reaffirming her original suspicions that she had stumbled suddenly upon a very valuable commodity in her particular marketplace. At the same time, she was consciously aware of the picture she herself was cutting for the young man. And now that David had reaffirmed Helga's worth by ridiculing her suggestion that she might be open to paying for David's services, Helga was able to admit that she did look damned good for her age, considering she had been in the "business" for over thirty years.
Helga was blonde. In fact, her hair had always been one. of her best features among a whole series of good features. Her hair was the color of unripe corn silk. It was thick, with just enough curl to give additional body to the mane that framed her attractive (yes, beautiful even now) face. Her eyes were wide-spaced, blue as the sky was often described as being but seldom was. Her eyelashes were lush, her eyebrows kept well-defined with a very little plucking. Her nose was just right for her face, without being so distinctive that it called undue attention to itself. Her mouth was full and sensuous, with just a trace of natural poutiness which was complimental rather than detrimental.
Helga had a long neck that flowed outward into exquisite shoulders.
Her breasts, so luscious that they were often the first thing about her that any man or woman noticed, were not so large that they made her seem off balance or top-heavy. They were just right for her narrow waist and her nicely swelling hips.
Her legs, now crossed and tucked slightly under, but parallel to the bar, were long and shapely.
As a matter-of-fact, there were few men (leg-men or breast-men) who would not have found Helga Svenson still ravagingly attractive. It was because of her extreme good looks, however, that many an interested man was reluctant to approach and be shot down.
David, therefore, had built up points in his favor by just making his initial move. All that he had done after that had merely added bonus points.
Over a new round of drinks, these bought by David, the two finally got around to formal introductions. The two, then, danced on two different occasions, Helga turning down a third invitation from David (once again pleased when he didn't take her "no thanks" as a personal affront).
More than once, Helga had been tempted to succumb to the evident temptation to take David somewhere to check out the obviously excellent body beneath David's clothes. Helga had been given all indications, during the slow dance they had done together, that David did indeed have that foot of cock he had boasted about earlier.
"I hope you weren't offended when I suggested you might take money for sex," Helga said somewhere during the course of the evening.
"Not at all," David told her with a grin. "If a man is a good doctor, it's understandable that people assume he gets paid for his doctoring. If a man is a good bus driver, it's understandable that people assume he gets paid for driving bus. If he's...." and David gave a little shrug. "However, not every doctor, bus driver, or stud should make it a point to get paid every time, do you think?"
Directly thereafter, Helga told David-if he were still interested-she would like to take him home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Fantastic!" David said.
And, as usual, he had not disappointed Helga with his response. In fact, he had seemed so enthusiastic about the small selection of bondage-and-discipline accoutrements Helga had shown him on the spur of the moment that Helga suspected David was either a natural to the b-and-d scene or else he had dabbled in it in the past.
"Never," David told her when Helga suggested he might have been no novice to the scene. "Oh, once I tied a girl to the bed and went down on her; but, Christ, never with handcuffs and masks, and all of this stuff."
"When you tied this girl up and went down on her, what did you feel?" Helga asked. There was no way she couldn't have been curious. It seemed unbelievable that in one evening she had come across a stud who, one, might show her a good time personally in bed; and, two, who might be an invaluable addition to her select staff of young men she used as procurers of women for several "specialized" paying customers. Three, David might take to bondage and discipline like a duck took to water. Actually, the latter was probably the rarest type of man to come across of them all. Some guys, who were quite turned on by the whole thing, didn't have the control necessary to become really adept at the art. And it was an art. So, Helga couldn't really be sure, without a little experimentation, that David was really one of that very special breed who not only had an interest but a capacity to excel; but, she had a gut-feeling that he did. And Helga, with over thirty years of the business to her credit, had an uncanny ability for weeding out the chaff from the grain.
"I really got off on it," David finally got around to replying to Helga's question. And, his answer hadn't been a lie. Georgia had once let him handcuff her (he couldn't have confessed to Helga about having used handcuffs-that smacking too much of police) to the bed while he had eaten out her pussy.
"And the young woman's reaction?"
David gave a little noncommittal shrug that told Helga to draw her own conclusions. The shrug also seemed to insinuate that there was very little David could do sexually that didn't please any partner. In truth, though, Georgia had gotten a little paranoid during the ordeal, in spite of her obvious enjoyment. David somehow believed Georgia would have to get in an awful lot of practice before she could really let herself go in any bondage-and-discipline situation.
David, on the other hand, was also a little unsure about his own capabilities in such a scene. Granted, he had gotten a big charge out of knowing he had (if just for the few minutes Georgia had allowed it) the woman completely under his control; but, David hadn't really had all that much opportunity to discover whether or not that was really his bag. That Helga might actually be suggesting the two of them indulge in something that went beyond simple fucking was a bonus of which David was more than willing to take advantage while the opportunity presented itself.
Of course, it might get a little sticky if Helga's lawyers brought it up in court if Helga were ever brought to trial in connection with those b-and-d rapes. Didn't the mere fact that she had the equipment handy bring her one step closer to potential involvement in the abduction and molestation of the Henning and the Lane women? However, if David played his cards right, it would end up being his word against Helga's. And who was going to take the word of a woman who, had participated in the rape of one of her own sex over the policeman who had played a key part in apprehending her?
"Would you like to tie my wrists here to the bed and go down on me?" Helga asked, selecting two lengths of rope from the drawer. Then, as if in afterthought, she put back the ropes and picked, instead, two pair of handcuffs.
David gave an involuntary swallow that coincided to the sudden throbbing of his hard cock inside of his trousers. While his cock had gotten stiff earlier in the evening (during the slow dancing with Helga), there was no denying that talk of ropes was making his cock "all that much stiffer.
"Maybe these handcuffs?" Helga suggested in alternative. "They're so convenient, after all, and let everybody get down to basics faster, without having to worry about whether or not one has tied a proper knot."
David felt a sudden twinge of fear, wondering if Helga's switching to handcuffs might possibly have been a veiled revelation that she knew all along that he was a policeman.
But no! How could she know? Besides, if Helga were suspicious, wouldn't it have been more logical for her to suggest that she handcuff David to the bed, and not vice versa?
"You'd trust me to do it?" David asked. It seemed impossibly strange-if exciting-that a woman he had just met would risk turning herself so completely over to him; where Georgia-who knew he wasn't a Dr. Je-kell ready for a conversion into a Mr. Hyde-had been so obviously shaken by the mere few minutes she had surrendered herself to David's control.
"I'm a very good judge of character," Helga said. "Anyway, I haven't yet let someone tie me up who didn't have the capacity to handle the situation with the skill and intelligence demanded of him. Or her," she added as an afterthought, giving David a conspiratorial smile that made David's cock gush pre-seminal liquid as a direct result of David's sudden visions of Helga engaged in a Lesbian b-and-d relationship.
"Come on," Helga said, carrying the handcuffs and leading the way to the bed.
With a swiftness that had David wondering if Helga weren't wearing one of those breakaway burlesque costumes, Helga was naked, her dress, slip, panties, and brassiere in a puddling of silk around her feet.
Helga snapped one metal bracelet of one handcuff to her left wrist. She then fastened one metal bracelet of the other handcuff to her right wrist. She dropped to the bed, extending her arms upward and outward.
"Your having complete control is only a matter of a couple of short 'snaps' away," Helga said, smiling up at David from the bed. She gave an accompanying upward roll of her hips that caused her blonde-haired pussy to move in seductive invitation.
David walked to the bed, wiping sweaty palms on the pants he still wore. He reached for the handcuff dangling from Helga's left wrist, hooking the empty bracelet around one of the ornate wooden dowels conveniently placed within the design of the headboard. The resulting click of metal against metal caused a shiver to travel up David's arms and down through his taut belly to his croch.
"Handcuff me, stud," Helga said by way of invitation. "Handcuff me to the bed until I can't possibly get free, and then do whatever you want to me. Whatever you want, stud. Whatever you want to do with that big foot of hard cock you've been promising me."
David walked around the bed, surprised to find his palms so sweaty. Christ, hadn't he just wiped them off on his pants but seconds before? As a matter-of-fact, they were so sweaty that the handcuff on Helga's right wrist almost slipped free of David's control before he could secure it to the wooden dowel positioned across from the other one on the headboard.
"Yes, stud. Yes, master," Helga said, grinding her lower body as if her hair-fringed cunt was already plugged chock full of huge male cock. "Make your slave obey. Make her do whatever you want her to do."
And David wasn't exactly comfortable with the new sensations washing through him. It was a strange mixture of anticipation and fear. Anticipation of what was going to happen next. Fear that he would somehow let things get out of hand. While he had never felt on the verge of losing his cool with Georgia that time they had attempted bondage-and-discipline games, that had been an entirely different scene from this. This time, David obviously had as a partner someone who could really get turned on to b-and-d sex. Helga apparently wasn't at all afraid of what was going to happen to her, was she? It actually appeared as if she were experiencing just the opposite of fear;
"Fuck me, master!" Helga begged, surprised at just how hot she really was. Oh, granted, some of it was pure show. Some of any session was pure show. But there was undeniably something inside of Helga's body that was coming to life here-a certain something that only blossomed anymore on the rarest of occasions. "You want my cunt, then take it, master! You want my mouth, then screw it, master! You want my cunt, or my mouth, or my ass, then screw ... hump ... fuck ... the shit out of all of them!"
Helga lifted her legs, giving David a tantalizing peek at the rosy red ass pucker connected to the bottom veeing of Helga's cunt by a dark stretch of flesh.
David stepped back from the bed, feeling dizzy. Yes, goddamn it, dizzy! This broad-this whole scene-was getting to him!
And what was there about Helga being handcuffed and captive which had gotten David to such a fever pitch that his cock was even then threatening to blast a premature ejaculation into the cupping crotch of David's juice-soaked underpants?
"Come on, master," Helga pleaded, her voice filled with a genuine need to have David's big cock shoved somewhere inside of her. Whether into her mouth, into her cunt, or into her ass-whether David chose to jack his big prick off within the deep celavage of Helga's breasts-it didn't really matter. What did matter was that David do something and do it fast.
Helga's body was forced to shudder with the possibility that David wasn't going to do anything but stand there. Wasn't that one hell of a horrible thought: Helga latching onto someone who got off by doing nothing? How additionally ironic in that Helga so very seldom found a man capable of turning her on to just the degree David managed to do.
However, Helga needn't have worried. While David was pausing mainly because of the uniqueness of his present situation, there was no way he would be pausing indefinitely-even if he had wanted to. Which, by the way, he certainly did not!
"Let me see it, then, stud," Helga said, her hips still busy fucking apparently phantom cock. "At least pull out that prick of yours and let me look at it. Do that much for Christ's sake!"
Oh, yes, David was prepared to do that much, all right. He was prepared to go even further.
David sat in a chair positioned close to the bed. He took off both of his boots and socks. He stood, curling his bare toes into the thick piling of the rug. He began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Yes ... yes," Helga encouraged, wondering if David were simply out to tease her more. She could still imagine how he might strip down completely, let her see his stiff meatiness without making any real moves to give to her. Maybe he would masturbate while watching her go through her lewd posturings.
Well, if David had any thoughts whatsoever of pulling that kind of a weird number on Helga, he was destined to be frustrated. Helga, no matter what David had been led to believe, was not as helpless as she might then appear.
David's shirt and undershirt were removed, peeled away to reveal the policeman's well-delinated pectorals and scalloped abdominals. His nipples, in indication of the fever-pitch excitement David was already experiencing, were hard, dime-sized nubbins, their erected centers jutting out from their surrounding aureola.
David dropped his trousers to a rumpled pool around his bare feet, his groin concealed now only beneath the stretch of his cotton underpants. The material of his shorts at his groin had gotten so soaked from the copious leakage from David's cock mouth that it was transparent, revealing to view the fleshy color and outline of the massive hunk of phallic meatiness laid with its back against David's belly.
Helga's eyes went wide from the sight of what was now evident between David's legs. Oh, the woman had known David had one hell of a big cock (she had felt it pressed against her cunt while dancing, hadn't she?), but she had never dreamed the reality was quite so stupendous, in that cocks were often made to seem bigger when stroked through several layers of clothing.
"Oh, master, your slave is just waiting for you to feed her full of your goodness," Helga said, her voice gone breathless with anticipation. "Don't keep me waiting. Jesus, please, don't keep me waiting!"
The only thing that was keeping David waiting was his continued fear that it wasn't going to take all of that much to get his balls to blasting. Yes, goddamn it, he was that hot! So, what in the hell was Helga going to think of her stud master if he shot off his rocks before he even got his cock inserted into even one of those holes she kept inviting him to feed with his stiff prick? Hell, she would probably think David was a fucking novice! And, he sure as hell wasn't a novice, was he? Hell, no! He had been having sex now for years, and years, and years. Ever since his cock had blasted into his sisters stroking hand in the woods behind their home.
And where in the hell was Diana? And, why in the hell had David chosen this particular moment to think of Diana? Maybe because Georgia's new roommate was called Diana? Maybe because that Diana actually seemed to resemble David's sister-or at least look the way David remembered his sister as looking. Christ, how long had it been since David had seen his sister? Definitely over ten years. Over ... ten ... fucking ... years!
But, whatever thoughts about his sister had been allowed to creep into his thinking, they weren't long-lived. Because a man would have had to be less than human to keep very long thinking of another woman when he had Helga Svenson's naked body there on the bed for the taking, when he had Helga begging louder and faster for the feel of David's cock deep inside of her.
"Spear me with that cock of yours!" Helga begged, licking her lips as David's thumbs finally hooked the elastic waistband of his shorts and tugged the material downward.
Helga watched fascinated as first David's pulpy cock head and then his massive cock neck came into full view. The moisture (all of which had, once upon a time, exited from the mouth of David's pouting prick) had glossed David's rubbery cock corona and had i slicked his wrist-thick mast that was capped at one end by David's cock glans and at the other end by the blond hair sprouted from David's muscled lower belly.
Helga could feel a new gushing of her natural lubricating juices into her sexual pit that sunk inward between the meeting point of her milky thighs. When David ever did get around to driving his phallic I truncheon into Helga's awaiting guts, there was no doubt at all that Helga would have a pussy oiled more than sufficiently to take even David's gargantuan dimensions.
David's underpants were off. He had just stepped out of them, leaving their damp-crotched piling atop his already discarded pants. He tentatively reached his right hand down to his hard prick and lightly let his fingers caress upward.
David's large cock pulsed noticeably, a contraction of David's groin muscles bringing the back of David's penis to a hard slapping against the man's ridged belly. A sunburst of juices formed around David's navel, splattered there from David's wet prick mouth.
Large, cum-filled balls, held suspended in David's hair-furred scrotal sac, but not dropped as low as normally because of the passion which had already contracted the sexual bag to a grapefruit-sized ball between David's legs, moved with a life all of their own Blond pubic hair moved like buoys on shifting seas as scrotal skin shifted sensuously beneath anchored hair roots.
"You master stud!" Helga said, her body glossed with the perspiration arisen as a result of her continued gyrations on the bed. Both of her wrists had chafed against the metal of the binding handcuffs, the resulting pinkness matching the delicate wetness of the slice cut vertically through the hair of Helga's sexually excited cunt. "You ... handsome ... master ... stud."
David approached the bed, drawn to it like a large iron filing to a magnet. Whether he was calmed down sufficiently to deliver a long and drawn-out fuck or not was no longer of importance; because, his inner needs were demanding that he proceed. His cock was hard for fucking. Helga's cunt was obviously juiced for a hearty screwing.
"Yes ... yes ... yes!" Helga chanted, encouraged by the fact that David was not only naked but was in movement toward her. "Show me who's boss! Show me that there's nothing whatsoever I can do to stop the spearing of your hard prick into my insides."
As if there were any chance that Helga could have possibly wanted to stop him! Christ, no! Her pussy was just aching to get fucked. If this stud knew nothing else about screwing, he did sure as hell know how to get a girl all aching for the feel of him. In fact, Helga's show of desire was substantially less of an act than it might have been originally.
"You're my fucking prisoner," David said, feeling simultaneously ridiculous and excited by his sudden decision join further in the game-playing.
"Yes, your prisoner," Helga agreed, her ass coming up off the bed and stirring her cunt around a nonexistent prick.
"My slave!" David said. "You're my slave!"
"Yes. Jesus, yes!" Helga bellowed. "Your slave. Your fucking slave. At your mercy. At ... your ... goddamn ... fucking ... mercy."
"I'm going to screw you," David said, crawling up on the bed, moving in between Helga's legs, all the while noting how Helga's thighs came wider apart for him.
Would a real victim have been so willing to accommodate her attacker? Wouldn't a real victim have been kicking out to keep David at distance for the longest possible time?
But Helga wasn't, after all, really a victim, was she? And David wasn't really her attacker, was he? They were both playing a charade. And, unlike the probable reality of'genuine bondage and rape, both Helga and David did want this to happen.
And, by God, it was going to happen!
"I'm gong to fuck you, bitch!" David told her, rearing up on his knees before Helga so as to give a final flaunt of his swollen foot of phallic meatiness before David risked its ecsquisitely delicious drive into the clutching depths of Helga's pussy.
"Ohhhhhhh!" Helga moaned, in spite of herself. It was j ust that David's prick looked so goddamned big as Helga's glance swept upward from David's massive balls to his pulpy cock head. His prick looked monstrous and frightening; it looked as if it definitely had the power to give Helga the pleasurable pain she was expecting from it.
For a few seconds longer, David stayed positioned right where he was, a slight movement of his body making his prick weave back and forth like an obscenely phallic metronome. More juices bubbled free of his cock mouth and drooled to form a transparent, syrupy veneering on his bulbous prick glans. Helga decided those juices looked just right for lapping; and, she wondered what the taste of them would be. Men's sexual juices-pre-cum and sperm-seemed never to be the same from one man to the next. Helga would have bet money that David's sticky lubricant would be tasty beyond belief. On the other hand, as much as Helga would have enjoyed a hearty sampling on her taste buds, she still felt she would prefer David ramming his primed penis into the juicy slash waiting between Helga's shapely legs.
"Drive it up my cunt, master stud!" Helga commanded, hoping that her insistence might well persuade David to pick the hole Helga had chosen as the most suitable for this first fuck together. "Shove it in so deep that I hear and feel your bulky balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Can you do that, stud? Can you? Can you?"
"You're going to get fucked all right," David told her, at that moment committed-whether or not he was due for a premature ejaculation or not. Actually, he had probably only increased his chances of before-desired orgasm by having delayed as long as he had. Because, over the preceding minutes, David's excitation had been on the increase, hadn't it? His phallic sword was virtually trembling with its need to find a suitable sheathe. And David, like Helga, had decided the sheathe would be the woman's hair-fringed pussy-if only because this scene was unique enough in its own right without opting for the kinkiness of anal or oral sex.
Not that David hadn't fucked his share of ass holes and mouths. Not that David wouldn't have liked fucking Helga's ass hole or mouth. However, the first time-this time-he would plug her cunt; because, Helga obviously wanted David's prick stuck there; and, Helga's pussy was obviously primed and ready for the sticking.
"Want it in your cunt, slave?" David asked, extending the fingers of his left hand forward so that his fingertips jabbed the opening of Helga's cuntal slice to get damp in the liquids that were juicing at the opening. "Sure as hell, then, that is what you are going to get. Man-cock...." (My God, he had almost said "cop-cock")...."right up your tight and spasming pussy."
And, David's right hand fisted his turgid cock shaft, prying it downward (Jesus, it hurt where its stiffness caused a pulling where his thick cock inches were anchored to his belly!), so that his sticky cock head slipped through the blonde hair bushing Helga's vagina. David's fist-like cock crown met and slipped sensuously along Helga's cuntal slash.
"Ohhhhh, yessss," Helga moaned, quite forgetting, for the moment, that her role in this little charade was supposedly that of an unwilling victim-and not a willing participant.
With a sudden thrust, David flicked his hips forward, driving his blood-engorged prick deep into Helga's narrow cuntal slicing, spearing the horny blonde woman without mercy.
David fell forward, dropping his hard chest to Helga's firm breasts, his belly to Helga's belly, his cock to its balls up Helga's clutching cunt.
"Ooooouuunngghhhh!" Helga moaned, quite beside herself with pain and pleasure, her hips thrusting upward to grind her blonde pubic hair hard against the blond pubic curls grown about the roots of David's thoroughly enlodged prick.
David drew his hard-on out to the point where its bulbous head was al that remained shoved into Helga's juicy sexual depths. The visible inches of David's prick were glossed with those lubricating oils which had been smeared on it up Helga's spasming pussy.
David thrust his hips forward again, pushing on and on until Helga's body was jerking madly from the plunge of David's fleshy shaft inside the very center of the woman's being. Waves of painful ecstasy came crashing through her as Helga felt every part of her insides filled to the brim. The ridged flesh of Helga's pussy insides were inflamed by the friction that accompanied the drive of David's cock. Helga's cunt sleeve formed a searing enclsure around David's entire cock meatiness.
"Love it, don't you, slave?" David grunted, finding it necessary to use all of his mental control to keep his primed cock from firing prematurely.
Helga's mouth opened and shut, her answer being only a short series of mewled groans. Jesus, was there any doubt that she was enjoying?
David's hips flicked again, once again having pulled his cock out to its head before fucking it deeply back into Helga's trembling belly.
"Tell me how you love it," David insisted, hoping that by focusing on Helga, he could somehow keep his own swelling ecstasy in abeyance. "Come on, slave bitch! Tell me! Tell me how you fucking love the feel of my huge foot of cock spearing your helpless pussy."
"Ugh ... master ... master ... master," Helga chanted, her hips on the roll. David's hard cock stirred ... stirred ... stirred. "I fucking love ... love ... oh, Jesus, love ... the feel of your ... ohhhhhh ... cock ... foot ... foot ... of ... hard, hard ... cock ... oh, cock ... oh, cock!"
"Yea," David verified, "you do, don't you?"
"Y-yes. Y-yes," Helga affirmed, quite beside herself with the pleasure of having the meatiness of this handsome stud wedged so deeply inside of her. "Oh, y-yes ... y-yes ... Y-YES!"
"Then beg me for it, bitch!" David ordered, pulling his cock out so far that Helga's hungry cunt lips were gumming the groove formed where David's cock corona flared outward from David's thick cock neck. "Beg me to give it to you ... hard and fast ... and deep!"
"Fuck me!" Helga bellowed in compliance, meaning every damned word of her request. "Fuck me hard and fast and deep with that luscious, luscious foot of stiff male prick jutting from your muscled belly!"
David slipped his hands beneath Helga's smoothly rounded buttocks, simultaneously beginning a slow and rhythmic thrusting cadence that would soon have him building to climax.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," Helga groaned, her pursed lips bubbling saliva, her cunt bubbling thick, oil-like juices. "That feels so ... so ... so ... fucking good!"
David fucked in and out of Helga's tightly clenched pussy in long, smooth strokes, driving his cock up and into Helga's moist cunt as that cunt clasped and then released ... clasped and then released....
Then, as if he were the natural at bondage and discipline that Helga had supposed, David let his right fuck-finger slide deep into the crease of Helga's buttocks to make contact with the woman's rosy red anal pucker waiting there. The tip of David's finger invaded the tiny opening.
"Grrruuunnnghhh!" Helga groaned in response, her sounding a signaling of the latest burst of pleasure/pain being given to her by David's finger working deeper and deeper up Helga's ass hole. Helga's groaning continued, mellowing eventually into softly mewling sounds as David's thick digit wormed its way deeper yet into the rubbery depths that stretched open all around it.
David's cock was f ticking wildly now ... in and out of Helga's accommodating pussy. David continued to quicken his fuck strokes until Helga was on fire with exquisite flares of flame that singed her loins and quivering belly before soaring through the rest of her body.
Helga was obviouisly a woman possessed, her insane passion suddenly blotting out everything else except the ecstatic pleasures of David's hotly di ving penis and David's deeply skewering finger.
Again and again, David's lengthy cock shaft penetrated the wet-warm interior of Helga's fucked cunt. And David's prick was throbbing with its impending climax.
"Ohhhhhh, God! I'm cummmmming. I'm ... oh, my God! I'm ... cummmming!" Helga bellowed loudly in a weird, rhythmical screaming. "I'm cummmming! I'm cummmming! I'M CUMMMMMMMMING!"
David felt his cunt-massaged prick expand in its own agonizing spasms. The insides of David's testicles seemed to explode and split wide open.
White-hot liquid sperm raced through the total length of David's rock-hard prick, and then it went spraying violently into the awaiting depths of Helga's contracting belly. David's cum, once released, mingled with Helga's lubricating juices, the resulting flood so profuse that its excess was backed up to the point of leaking from between Helga's cock-plugged cuntal lips. Then, lewd rivulets of the stuff trickled free to run down along the soft whiteness of Helga's sweaty thighs.
With a loud sigh, David collapsed on Helga's voluptuous body.
However, David wasn't anywhere near being finished for the evening. He was so keyed that he was good for several more screws, all of which he delivered while Helga was handcuffed to the bed.
And Helga, through the whole pleasurable ordeal, stayed right where she was, never once letting David know that she could have opened her handcuffs at any time-they being of a special design used by magicians in various escape acts.
There was, after all, no way someone as smart as Helga Svenson was going to allow herself complete surrender to a stranger she had just that evening picked up in a bar. Women who did stupid things like that, especially in the b-and-d scene, were apt to come away more than worse for wear if they weren't damned careful.
CHAPTER NINE
Why in the hell had Diana picked that particular moment to tell David that they were brother and sister? All the times she had procrastinated in the past, waiting for the right time and the right place, why in the fuck had she done it now-at a time which was hardly right in either place or time? As a matter-of-fact, the disco sounds blaring from the speaker system directly above their heads had been so loud that David hadn't heard Diana the first time and had had to ask her to repeat herself.
"Diana?" David asked. He had called her that before; but, the name suddenly had taken on additional meaning. "For Christ's sake! Diana?"
And, of course, Diana's confession of identity certainly cleared up a lot of things, didn't it? Like how she had come to remind David so much of his sister. Like how she physically looked like his sister. Hell, she WAS his sister!
"Surprise!" Diana said, flashing David, in his obviouis confusion, a widely amused smile.
"Jesus!" David said, temporarily at a loss for words, suddenly realizing it was his own sister being used here as bait. "We've got to get your ass out of here!"
"Don't get any funny ideas about suddenly aborting our game-plan for this evening," Diana told him, warning that her revelation had nothing whatsoever to do with the assignment they were both on. Diana had no intentions of letting David pull any big-brother-protection numbers on her. She, after all, was just as much a police officer as he was.
"Do you know what in the hell you're doing?" David hissed over the table, trying-almost successfully-to be heard above the continuing cacophony of disco sounds. David had obviously been set on his ear by hearing Diana was his sister. More confusing was the fact that the hard-on he had gotten in his pants by fantasizing Diana as being his sister-oh, yes, he had been doing more than his share of pretending in that direction since the two of them had been brought together on this assignment, hadn't he?-had only gotten harder by David finding out Diana was his sister.
And, my God, wasn't that sick! Wasn't it that degenerate sickness which had flooded David with masochistic relief when Diana had gone running off to Grandma Miller? Wasn't it an ever-present fear of the re-blossoming of that disease which had kept David from contacting Diana all of these years? And, David had been right to have his fears, hadn't he? Because, here Diana was, here David was, and here-like that time in the woods behind the house-was David's rip-roaring hard-on. Only then, they had been silly kids indulging in childish (if incestuous) games. Now, they were both mature adults. Which meant, David was having one hell of a hard time blaming his hard cock on anything other than a maturer perversion that revolved around a physical attraction for his own sister.
His own sister, for Christ's sake!
David was so caught up in the unreality of all that had happened over the last couple of confusing minutes, that he didn't realize there was someone standing by his table until Helga spoke in a voice that miraculously managed to penetrate not only the continuing blare of the disco music but, also, the whirling presently alive within David's brain.
"David, my God, how are you?"
And, David glanced up, realizing that things were suddenly coming at him simply too fast.
What in the hell was happening here? Helga was not supposed to be here. David was supposed to pick up Diana and bring her to Helga.
"Do you mind if Kyle and I join you?" Helga asked, flashing David a wide smile.
And David was close to panic! Had something gone wrong? Did Helga suspect David was a policeman? Had Helga been tipped off that there was a plan afoot to entrap her? David quickly tried to read something in Helga's face; but, Helga gave him nothing to explain why plans had obviously been changed.
"Have you met Kyle?" Helga asked, introducing her companion, whom David had not met before. Kyle was older than Helga, but he was attractive nonethelss. David wondered if Kyle were one of Helga's customers scheduled for the activities later that evening. If there were still activities planned!
Kyle nodded his hellos and then motioned for the waitress to bring them a round of drinks. David was about to protest, but a glance from Helga, and a slight negative shake of Helga's head, stopped David from doing so.
The four chatted as best as anyone could under such conditions that had one loud song beginning before the one before it had even completely stopped playing.
As to what they talked about, David would never be able to remember clearly. Whatever words David did use, they were called up by a subconscious response mechanism that allowed him to operate under pressure. Whatever he said, it must have fit the bill; because, no one seemed to be giving him funny looks or asking him to repeat and/or to clarify his comments.
David asked Helga to dance, hoping to find out something out on the dance floor. However, Helga declined the offer, asking if david would mind if she sat out the next few.
"Kyle has already danced my legs off this evening," Helga said by way of explanation.
"And David, frustrated on that account, glanced furtively around the room, trying his best to pick out Stan Wellington and the rest of the policemen assigned to David and Diana that evening.
Something ... somehow ... had gone wrong!
The drinks arrived. They were finished; and, Kyle-under protest from David-ordered another round. While everyone was waiting, Kyle asked David if he would mind if Kyle asked Diana to dance. What could David say? David had, after all, already asked Helga to dance, without even bothering to ask Kyle's permission. Besides, with Kyle and Diana away from the table, David would possibly be able to get Helga to tell him what in the hell was coming off.
"Nothing to worry about," Helga told him in response to David's worried query. "Nothing at all to worry about."
But, as it turned out, David was to find that particular promise the understatement of this year and the next.
Not that Helga suspected David of being a policeman. Why? Because, Helga had gone to bed with David; and, there was simply no way Helga could have brought herself to believe that any cop could have gotten all as involved, with such evident enjoyment, in the bondage-and-discipline scene as David had done.
So, Helga's precautions weren't to counteract any plot she knew was in progress to entrap her, as much as it was to counteract any plan that might-somewhere, somehow-have been put into operation without her or David's knowledge. Helga, after all, had had more than her share of run-ins with the police, even if the cops had never been able to pin anything on her. And, Helga hadn't managed to keep her slate clean by not taking every precaution possible.
Besides, what she carried out regarding David and Diana that evening wasn't all that different from what she had done on those other occasions wherein she had broken in Daniel Morrow and Jeff Gregory as recruits. The police, however, didn't know that. The police had mistakenly assumed that Helga's plan of operation with a new recruit was the same as it was when she was using a procurer she had had prior experience with. It wasn't!
Helga knew that a new recruit like David could make mistakes; and, it was Helga's job to make sure that no mistakes were made in the beginning, so that David would be around to perform at later dates.
Besides, after the first time, Helga was always more confident of a man she recruited. There was no way, after all, that any cop could pass successfully through a night of initiation without tipping his hand. Not, once again, that Helga suspected David of being on the vice squad. But, it was always better, in Helga's book, to be doubly safe rather than sorry.
Helga and Kyle, therefore, had drugged the drinks of both David and Diana. And when the two had passed out at. the table, Helga and Kyle, using the assistance of the disco bouncer-who was around to help inebriated patrons, among other things-were able to get Diana to Kyle's car and David to Helga's.
Helga and Kyle did not drive directly to where they wanted to go. As a matter-of-fact, Helga and Kyle separated completely, maneuvering in a predetermined maze of city streets and alleyways that was destined to (first) flush out any would-be followers, and (second) to lose them if they were there.
And, the fact that Helga discovered-before all that long-that she was being followed in no way had her imagining that one of the people responsible for her present tail was the man unconscious on the seat beside her. Helga knew that it would only be a matter of time before the local police force made the connection between Helga and the LA operation. That they had made the connection sooner than Helga might have liked, didn't really disturb her at the moment. Helga had planned for all contingencies, knowing that before she got David-and before Kyle got Diana-to the appointed locale for that evening festivities, whomever was now following would be doing so no longer. Helga turned the car sharply into a narrow, dark alleyway and jammed her right foot down hard to put the car gas pedal to the floor.
CHAPTER TEN
Diana's head ached. Jesus, did her head ache! And, her wrists ached, her arms ached, and her ankles ached.
Her wrists, arms, and ankles! Yes, goddamn it, her wrists, arms, and ankles! So, why in the hell were they aching? The headache was possibly easily accounted; for, wasn't it? Diana, after all, had had a few drinks that evening, hadn't she? However, she had often-drunk more than the few cocktails she had had that evening without having come down with the hangover she evidently had now.
And, speaking of that evening, how in the hell had it ended-if it had yet ended? Strange, but Diana couldn't remember going home. The last she remembered was sitting at that small table with David, Helga, and Kyle. David had aeemed nervous; and, well he might have been. Because, Diana knew who Helga was; she, also, knew that Helga wasn't supposed to have met Diana until later that evening.
"Ohhhhhh," Diana groaned. And, where in the hell was she? At her own apartment? In her own bed?
No!
And there was something damned funny about just where she was, wasn't there?
Diana opened her eyes, without having realized they had even been shut. What she immediately saw didn't really make sense; because what she saw was her lower body, chains hanging from her ankles to the floor. The other end of the dropped chains were attached to brackets embedded through the linoleum and into the wood beneath.
"Ooooooooo," Diana moaned again, shaking her head to clear it. Her headache was a little better, but not much.
"Welcome back to the world of the living," someone said. But who?
Diana's head snapped up, sending a pain through the back of her neck and into her brain. She shut her eyes momentarily to the fireworks going off inside of her drug-numbed mind and then opened them again to see....
To see what, for God's sake? My God, what kind of a dream was she having?
"The headache," Helga said, concealed as she was behing a black hood that covered-except for eyes and mouth-her whole head, "will be short-lived. I promise."
"Where am I?" Diana asked, knowing full well where she was. She was right in the middle of some goddamned nightmare, wasn't she? Well, wasn't she?
"In a special place," Helga said. "With some very special people."
And Diana realized, for perhaps the first time, that she and the other woman (she knew Helga was a woman, because the blonde's large breasts were naked) weren't alone in the room. Off to one side, there were two men (she knew they were men, because both, while covered from head to toe in what looked like black leather-had open pants crotches that revealed large and blood-glutted erections).
"I'm dreaming!" Diana told herself, even if it did come out verbally. "I'm goddamned dreaming!"
"No," Helga assured her. "You aren't dreaming at all."
"I tell you, I'm dreaming!" Diana insisted, shaking her head in an attempt to free it of existing cobwebs.
And David, sitting on a workbench (Kyle was on a wooden chair) could sympathize with his sister's temporary disorientation. David, after all, wasn't all that long into consciousness himself, and he was still a little blurry on just how he had gotten where he was. He only vaguely remembered following Helga and Kyle's instructions which had gotten David stripped down and decked out in black leather.
"So, you're dreaming," Helga said, giving a shrug of disinterest. She knew it wouldn't be all of that long before Diana woke up to the reality. This dreaming shit usually carried over only until the first lash of the whip brought a woman out of her stupor.
Diana's head was finally clearing, which didn't make her find anything any the more real. As a matter-of-fact, correctly focusing in on her surroundings and her companions only made the who-le goddamned thing even more macabre.
Diana looked as if she were in a dungeon. Yea, in a medieval dungeon down in the bowels of some castle somewhere other than in America-that was sure. And all around her, Diana could see instruments of torture (stocks, stretch rack, pillories) that she was used to seeing only in movies. On the stone walls (my God, even the walls looked wet!) were hung whips and chains and strange things of which Diana couldn't even begin to imagine the use.
Yes, goddamn it, a dungeon! Which meant this HAD to be a nightmare! There was no conceivable way that Diana could have gotten from that table in the disco to this horror spot....
Wait a goddamned minute!
Diana gave the scene another quick once-over, which included taking in her three companions. Those other women had been chained up, hadn't they? They had been chained, then whipped, then fucked!
But ... this ... simply ... wasn't ... possible! It wasn't supposed to ever get this far-certainly not with Diana, was it?
What had been the plan? There had been a plan, hadn't there? Sure, there had. Diana and David were supposed to feign a meeting in the disco. David was supposed to buy Diana a few drinks, ask her for a few dances, invite her home for a little sex. David was then supposed to take Diana (after first pretending to drug her) to an apartment Helga Svenson had rented across town. Shortly after David and Diana got there, the cops were going to raid the place and....
And, this didn't look like any apartment. And, Helga had turned up at the disco with Kyle. And, David had looked worried.
And, something had definitely gone wrong!
"Even with good people like Miller and Wellington on the job to watch out for you, we can't make any guarantees of safety," Captain Harry Morgan had told Diana when he had asked her to volunteer for the job. "We're dealing with smart people here. What they're doing, they have done plenty of times before; and, none of them have been arrested for it yet."
And, had the cops botched this one? Had Diana somehow slipped free of her police guard and into the clutches of those perverts who molested those other women?
David ... where in the hell was David?
Diana's eyes were drawn to the male body clothed in black leather and sitting on the nearboy workbench. And, was that David? There was admittedly something very familiar about the size and the shape of that huge sexual truncheon jutting upward from the gaping opening of the man's trouser fly. Was that the same large cock Diana had lovingly stroked so long ago in the woods behind their house? Was that the same massive prick that went into convulsive jerks and spat comets of creamy male cream to web Diana's fingers?
What in the hell was David doing all dressed up in that costume-if it were David? He, after all, wasn't coming across as a prisoner like Diana was coming across as one. Whoever he was, he gave all appearances of being one with the woman and the other man in the room.
Get hold of yourself Diana! Diana told herself. She couldn't panic. Jesus, no, she couldn't panic. She had to remain cool. She had to think this out. Somewhere-somehow-things had gotten screwed up. If Diana had been unconscious (and, there had to be some explanation for the gaps in her memory that failed to cover all that transpired between the disco and here), then David might have had to improvise to save the both of them. Maybe-if Helga (was this big-breasted woman Helga?) had eluded the police assigned to tail her-David was forced into continuing his charade of being one of Helga's people. If that were the case, then Diana was going to have to be damned careful what she said, or she was going to blow David's cover and (if they didn't already know Diana was a policewoman) possibly her own.
"Feeling better?" Helga asked, her pink-colored lips visible through the hole cut in the hood over her head. Besides the hood, Helga was wearing a pair of tight leather pants that molded sexily along the contours of her hips and over the enticing swells of her buttocks. She was also wearing a pair of leather gloves and a pair of leather riding boots.
"Where am I?" Diana asked. Had she asked that question before? If she had, she couldn't remember. When had they drugged her? She was certain that they had drugged her.
"Where is unimportant," Helga told her.
"Who are are you?" Diana amended.
"Who is unimportant, also," Helga told her.
"Whatever you're up to, you aren't going to get away with it," Diana said, not at all certain she was correct. After all, how many women besides Diana had been hung from these very chains while the culprits responsible were still free as the breeze?
Helga, who was correctly assuming Diana was talking purely to hear herself speak, didn't even deign make comment on Diana's ridiculous threats.
Because, now that both Helga and Kyle had shaken off the police, there was no chance at all that anyone was going to trace them here.
Helga turned to Kyle, able to tell that the man was paying no attention at all to Helga. Kyle was focusing his entire attention on the hung Diana. Helga knew that this broad really turned Kyle on-which was good; because, Kyle paid good money for these sessions: so good, as a matter-of-fact, that Helga could often afford to book sessions exclusively for Kyle (and one victim, and one other master).
Kyle Harrison, at forty-two, had very special sexual tastes. Until he had chanced on Helga Svenson, through a mutual friend in LA, Kyle had been at a loss as to how he was ever going to adequately indulge in the only fun and games which seemed to get him off. But, he had found Helga; and, as long as he had Helga, there was no problem, was there? Diana and David, after all, were just what the doctor ordered, weren't they?
"You had better let me go, goddamn it!" Diana proclaimed, jiggling her chains. She cast another glance in David's direction. She was almost sure now that it was David. So what, she wondered, was he planning. By the looks of him, he didn't seem all that ready to come jumping in to Diana's rescue.
David, in fact, like Diana, was wondering just what he should be doing with this situation. He did, of course, have alternatives. One alternative being his suddenly turning into the big hero, wherein he tried to knock Helga and Kyle flat and rush off to freedom with Diana. That alternative wasn't the best one, however. It seemed hardly likely that David, even catching his companions off guard, was going to overpower both Helga and Kyle, without their delivering some damage in return. David, after all, didn't even have a gun, did he? And while he was pretty good in the. physical-combat department, he suspected-if just by what he had seen of Kyle's excellent physical build (Kyle, in spite of being older than David, could take care of himself in any bout of fisticuffs)-that Kyle wasn't going to be any pushover. And Helga's long fingernails certainly couldn't be overlooked as formidable weapons.
Besides, David didn't have the foggiest notion where he was. Except for the decidedly modern dressing facilities wherein David had changed into his present garb (he had come to consciousness in that room), David could well believe they had left the twentieth century completely and come barreling through a time warp.
So, what if he sat around and waited for the help that was supposed to arrive when this little operation had originally been thought out? Where was Wellington and the other guys? Had Helga and Kyle actually managed to somehow slip away from this city's finest?
It certainly was a peculiar dilemma, not at all made any easier by the fact that it was David's own sister hanging naked from those chains.
It was David's own sister; and, David had one hell of a hard cock jutting upward between his legs. Did Diana recognize David's large erection and, thus, David (even though, David was hooded)? And if she did, what was she going to say at any minute that might blow David's cover all sheets to the wind and complicate matters even more? David just hoped Diana had enough sense to keep her mouth shut until David could think of some adequate solution to their mutually shared problem.
Not that David could see any immediate solutions in the offing!
"My God, what are you planning to do with that?" Diana asked, bringing David's attention back to the center stage.
Helga, as if by magic, had produced a cat-o'-nine-tails which she was dangling from her right hand, the whip tips touching the floor.
But, Diana already knew what Helga was going to do with it, didn't she? She knew, because she lid seen those photographs of those other women, their bodies striped with whip marks.
"A little pain has always been known to enhance the pleasure," Helga told her.
And, Kyle shifted slightly on his chair. His black-haired scortum was pooled on the seat between his opened thighs, his two monstrous testicles mountains within the flow of flaccid flesh. His cock, a flat-bellied mass, extended upward, shooting a fist-sized cock head completely free of the sleeve formed by a bulky, uncircumcised foreskin. Two large veins mirrored each other on the cock flanks, resembling snakes on a caduceus. A beading of translucent sex-lubricant pooled in the deeply pouting gash that was Kyle's cock mouth, holding there momentarily before breaking to ooze downward over Kyle's pulpy phallic crown.
David's gaze flitted from his sister's naked body to the whip being held in Helga's hand, then back again.
What in the hell was David going to do? What, for Christ's sake? Did he just sit here and watch? Or, did he do something and risk getting him and Diana into even more trouble than they were already in?
Of course, there was always the possibility that Diana didn't recognize David. After all, it had been over ten years since she had seen David's hard cock, hadn't it? Between then and now, Diana must have seen plenty of cocks to make hazy any accurate remembrances of David's particular erection.
And, why was David holding out hope that Diana hadn't recognized him? Was it because, he was actually sexually turned on by all of this: being dressed up in black leather while his siter's naked and vulnerable body dangled in chains there in front of him?
Was David actually entertaining thoughts of how he might make it through this to the very end without Diana knowing he was in the room witnessing her embarrassment, her whipping, her rape? Later, he might tell her that they dropped him off somewhere in the middle of nowhere, someplace that had taken him hours to get back to civilization.
Jesus, what was he thinking? This ... was ... his ... sister! How could he even think of letting her go through this ordeal rather than blow their cover? Was it because the whipping never did any great damage? None of the other women had come away with any permanent scars. Was it because he was sure getting fucked was no big deal for Diana? Hell, hadn't she played around with both her father and her brother at one time in her life? God only knew how many other men she had fucked between then and now. Oh, it would have been different if Diana had been a virgin. But, there was no way Diana could still be that, now was there?
So, what was the big deal about getting chained, getting beaten, and getting fucked? Huh? What was Diana looking so owlie-eyed about? If she just gritted her teeth and bared it until this was over (none of the women had ever been really harmed), then she could walk away from here a free woman; and, David would be in like Flint. And, once David was really in Helga's confidence, it would be easier than hell to trip her up: a hell of a lot easier than it had been this first time out.
Besides, Diana had known all along that she wasn't letting herself in for any picnic, hadn't she? And, she had volunteered for the job nevertheless. She must surely have been prepared for something like this. After all, police operations went sour more often than not, didn't they?
And, it wasn't as if David could do anything about it, was it? Basically, David was as much a captive as his sister, even if he wasn't physically secured by chains like she was.
Helga drew back her right arm, drawing the whip with it. A forward flick brought all nine lengths of leather down across Diana's naked breasts and belly.
"Ooooohhhh, nooooo!" Diana squealed, her sounding more the result of surprise at actual whip-body contact than from the pain. Because, while the lashing had supplied a good deal of noise, the whip strands had actually arrived on contact with so little real force that they didn't even leave marks.
"We've got a moaner here, K," Diana said, using Kyle's initial instead of his full name. "You like the moaners, don't you?"
Kyle didn't answer. His cock oozed more pre-seminal juices. His hands rested on his knees.
Helga used the whip again, this time harder. The resulting strokes brought red stripes to Diana's milky flesh: stripes that remained when the leather dropped away.
Why wasn't her brother doing something? How could David just sit there? If it were him. If ... it ... were ... him.
"Don't do this! Please, don't do this to me!" Diana pleaded to no avail. Because even as she begged, she could see the whip riding through the air toward her. When all nine of the leather straps again made contact with Diana's flesh, the woman groaned helplessly, refusing to believe David was simply going to sit where he was and do absolutely nothing to save his own sister from this perverted degradation.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Fuck her!" Helga commanded.
And, it took David several seconds (lost as he was in a kind of euphoric stupor as a result of having just watched his sister being whipped seemingly senseless) to realize that Helga had been speaking to him and not to Kyle.
David, who had come to look upon his sister's eventual rape as inevitable, under the circumstances, had never suspected that anyone would be expecting David to do the molesting. Kyle, after all-as David had rightly suspected-was paying out a good deal of money for this session, wasn't he? Surely the honors, then, of jabbing hard cock up Diana's pussy should have gone to Kyle.
"Come on, big D," Helga said, knowing that David had to be surprised by his good fortune. How could David know that Kyle's special needs required a woman first to be fucked hard and fast by another stud before Kyle could get excited enough to plug his cock up quite a different hole. "Go ahead and screw this slave and show her how good it feels to have her cunt plugged to the brim by huge master cock."
"You want me to fuck her?" David asked, wondering what in the hell he did now if, indeed, Helga did mean that David should fuck Diana.
How could he fuck his own sister?
"Yes, fuck her!" Kyle commanded, as if his permission was all that was holding David back. But, then, how could Kyle know that...?
David slid off the edge of the workbench he had been sitting on, somewhat pleased to find his legs still weak from the drug that had, at one time that evening, completely immobilized David's system. Because if David were still weak, he would have had even less of a chance in any attempts to overpower Kyle and Helga.
"You wouldn't!" Diana screamed, recovered enough from her recent beating to know that the man up and moving toward her was the one she suspected of being her brother.
And, there had been something about the way Diana had screamed the "You" that had David suspecting Diana knew very good and well that it was David standing there (hood or no hood).
He would have to fuck her, wouldn't he? There was merely no other alternative anymore. If he said no, Helga and Kyle would immediately get suspicious. And, then what would happen? Granted, there had been nothing violent (aside from kidnapping, whippings, and rapes) associated with this group yet; but, God only knew what Helga might be forced into doing if she suddenly discovered she had not one but two police officers in her midst.
Or, was David merely looking for the rationalization which would allow him to fuck his own sister? Because, he did want to fuck her, didn't he? Just as he had wanted to screw her that day he had ended up blasting his cock in her hand. Just as he would have screwed her if she hadn't gone running off to Grandmother Miller. Oh, yes, David wanted to fuck her, all right; and, about every girl David had fucked had been screwed with accompanying fantasies of David's sister.
And, David wasn't all that sure Diana didn't want him to fuck her, either. After all, she had come back, hadn't she? She had turned up on the scene after David-despite David's continued desire for his sister-had convinced himself that Diana would never risk another confrontation. Yet, here she was. And, here David was. And, here was the chance of a lifetime for David-and for Diana. Because, Diana could never know for sure this hooded man was David, now could she? So, David could fuck Diana; and, Diana could assuage her guilt by continually telling herself that her attacker hadn't been her brother at all.
"Don't do this! Don't do this!" Diana commanded. Her flesh was crisscrossed with lash marks and still hot from the beating which had caused blood to come rushing up to flush her skin.
And, Diana was simultaneously asking herself just why she was putting up a big fuss. After all, she had been fucked before. After all, she was no virgin.
Was it because she suspected it was David who was going to fuck her; and, those same fears which had brought her fleeing David in the first place were now back on the scene, just as strong-if not stronger-than ever? Was it because, no matter how much she knew she wanted David's cock inside of her-had always wanted his cock inside of her-she was still too paranoid to readily accept the idea that her incestuous fantasies were about to become the reality?
Oh, sure she had once upon a time played with her brother's cock; but, there was a world of difference between a girl's letting her brother cum in her hand and a woman letting her brother cum in her cunt, wasn't there? WASN'T THERE?
Or, was Diana's revolt against what was happening here more of a rebellion against something that was going to happen to her-no matter what she said or did? There was, after all, something completely different about giving a man permission to fuck you and having him fuck you whether you gave consent or not-even if that man was her own brother; which Diana was not one-hundred percent certain.
"Tell the bitch to keep her mouth shut!" Helga commanded, a little curious as to why David was suddenly seeming so reluctant to get on with this screw. David certainly hadn't been all this shy the evening he had jumped Helga's bones. Maybe, it was just because David hadn't quite yet recovered from the drug that had been slipped into his drink. "Let the bitch know she's nothing but a goddamned piece of meat whose whole purpose in life is playing slave to your master."
"You'll never get away with this!" Diana stated, realizing how hollow her threats were under the present conditions. "You're all going to get into big trouble."
"Shut up, bitch!" David ordered, trying his best to disguise his voice, but suspecting he wasn't doing a very good job of it.
And, what was there about the expression on Diana's face which immediately led David to suspect that Diana knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was her brother?
The truth of the matter, however, was that Diana-at that moment, and in spite of the voice just spoken obviously having belonged to her brother-was trying desperately to convince herself that it wasn't David. Because if it wasn't David, then it wouldn't be incest-just rape. And rape was bad enough, wasn't it?
"I won't shut up!" Diana countered. "I goddamn won't!"
"I'll shut you up then," David told her. "I'll plug that loud mouth of yours so full of my hard cock that you won't be able to mumble a fucking thing but gagging grunts."
And, Helga gave a smile of approval. This was the David who Helga had promised Kyle for the evening. She gave a big sigh of relief. For the price Kyle was paying, Helga always liked to make sure the man had a good time. And while David was someone Helga had only been to bed with once, that once had been enough to convince Helga that David could give Kyle his monies worth. Helga was more than relieved to see David was coming around. Obviously, it had just been the drug that had slowed David down temporarily.
"Take off your hood, you big, brave man," Diana challenged. "Or, can't you go through with this abomination without hiding?"
But, did Diana really want to know-beyond any shadow of a doubt-that the man was David? Would her knowing make the experience more or less pleasurable for her?
David came forward and slapped Diana across the side of her face. He hadtto put up a good show, didn't he? If he didn't, it could be bad news for both him and Diana.
"I said, fucking shut up!" David repeated before Diana could recover sufficiently from the shock of the slap to open her big mouth again.
David was thoroughly convinced that he and Diana would be far better off if Diana just kept quiet. God only knew what the woman might inadvertently let slip out.
"You bastard!" Diana spat, feeling the heat on her face, conjured as a result of the recent violent flesh-to-flesh contact.
And, David hit her again, surprised at the guilt-ridden pleasure he derived from hitting her. The truth being, he had wanted to find his sister and hit her for one hell of a long time, hadn't he? Oh, yes ... for a long ... long ... time. Ever since he had woke up one morning to find that she was no longer in the same house with him, that she had run off to Grandmother Miller, never to touch his cock again.
Why in the fuck had she run? Because their father had tried to get fresh with her, or because she was afraid of what she and David were letting themselves in for? Whatever the reason, she should have talked it over with David before going, shouldn't she? The fact that she hadn't had always left David more than a little angry.
Hell, had she been afraid that David was going to rape her? Was that why she had run? Funny, but as David remembered it, it had been Diana who had taken the initiative. Not David. Oh, not that David hadn't had fantasies about doing such; because, he had had erotic dreams in which his sister played a vital part long before Diana had ever touched him. But that day Diana had touched him, it had been Diana and not David who had led the way. So, in reality, it should have been David-not Diana-who had fled. Instead, David had been filled with wonder at his dream-come-true. Who would have believed that it would have been Diana who would panic?
The bitch shouldn't have panicked!
"You just keep your busy little mouth shut!" David told her. "And, you'll probably be surprised at just how good of a time you're going to have here this evening."
"No!" Diana protested, refusing to be shut up unless knocked senseless; which, considering what had come before, was certainly a possibility. "I won't just stand by and let this happen without saying something."
So, David hit her again, the force causing Diana's head to rock sharply to one side. David luxuriated in the tingling sensations that took root within the irritated palm of David's right hand.
Diana should never have run! If she hadn't, it probably never would have come to this, would it? God only knew what kind of life they might have made for themselves; but, whatever, it seemed highly un-likely the two, as police officers, would have been put into quite this present state of affairs.
For the first time, Kyle (still seated) touched his swollen cock. He took hold of his stiff prick shaft down at its roots and milked upward, coaxing even more of his pre-seminal juices free of his phallic teat. Keeping his gaze on David and Diana, Kyle used the flat of his thumb to smear his cock corona with his luscious juices.
Kyle ... was ... getting ... excited.
"Fuck her!" Helga commanded once again. She was standing to one side, the whip still dangling from her right hand. The leather lashes of the whip had been dyed almost black with the sweat they had soaked up during their whipping of Diana's perspiration-stained body.
"Sure, I'll fuck her all right," David said. "But first, I want to make damned good and sure that this broad's pussy is all primed for the taking of my big cock. Because, there's no way in hell that I want my prick chafed raw in its run up some cunt that isn't juiced sufficiently to take it."
David extended his right hand and slipped his fingers into Diana's cunt before the woman even knew what he was about. David twisted his fingers up the hole.
Suddenly realizing what was happening, Diana reacted violently. She thrashed about, her wrists and ankles going red-raw on the manacles that held her. Her chains whipped from side to side, links clashing against links and giving forth loud metallic soundings.
And, David was remembering when his hand had last played with this pussy. Oh, he had been less experienced then, but he had been good enough to get his sister's rocks off. Well, he felt confident he could get her orgasming now, too.
Was that what he was suddenly determined to do: get his sister into orgasm? Wouldn't it have been better to rationalize that he was merely using a delaying action, keeping his cock from Diana's cunt as long as possible, in the hopes that his buddies would show up and raid this session like they were supposed to? Yea, that kind of rationalization would have been the easy way out, wouldn't it? But, why in the hell should David try to fool himself of all people? When the simple truth was that David was suddenly out to show his sister just what the silly bitch had missed all of these years by running scared. This reality was something his fantasies of the past ten years had been made of, wasn't it? And, David couldn't have asked for a more opportune moment than if he had planned this all himself.
David had wanted to have sex with Diana from the first moment he had seen her at the station house. He had fantasized fucking Diana while he had fucked Diana's roommate. The fact that Diana was his sister hadn't dimmed David's sexual longing for her. In fact, if anything, the sudden discovery that Diana was his sister had only-somehow-increased David's desire for her.
Sick? Hell, possibly it was. But then, again, David-like Diana-had made it a point to read up on incest once he had realized that his desire for his sister was incestuous. And, he had found nothing that explained to him why incest was .all that bad in this modern age of birth-control pills and abortions. There was little chance of any baby being born of his sexual union with his sister. And, who was there to get jealous and cause intra-family friction? Diana's husband? Diana didn't have a husband. If she had had one-and how else could Diana's last name now be Wyatt?-then it was obvious that the two were already separated. There were no brothers and sisters to get upset. Their father was dead. Their mother could care less, finally off enjoying the money her husband had left her far more than she had ever enjoyed her husband.
So, incest was really no big deal, was it? There was no reason whatsoever to look upon it as the frightful bugbear that it had once been in those other times when such taboos were made in order to assure the survival of the tribe.
Besides, David hadn't seen Diana in over ten years. Fucking her now would be like fucking a complete stranger and not a blood relative.
"Goddamn it, noooo!" Diana bellowed as her thrashing came to naught. David's fingers were still enlodged up Diana's pussy, torquing there and growing slick on Diana's leaked female juices.
Finally, David pulled his fingers free of Diana's helplessly quivering cunt and knelt down in front of her.
"Liked that, didn't you?" David asked, smiling as he watched his sister trying desperately to clamp her thighs together. The chains, however, held Diana's ankles anchored to the brackets on the floor in such a way as to keep the woman's legs permanently parted.
"You, sick ... perverted ... bastard!" Diana spat, having hated and enjoyed her brother's fingers digging inside of her. She trembled at the feel of David's (was this really David?) hands along her thighs, David's thumbs seeking out the fleshy edges of Diana's hair-fringed cunt.
David wondered if Diana would be given to less protest if he pulled off his hood and showed her for sure who he was. Diana, after all, hadn't put up this much protest that day in the woods, had she? Of course, between then and now, Diana had had plenty of time to load herself with the guilt-trip of having indulged in an incestuous relationship.
Well, for David, the past ten years hadn't been without their feelings of guilt over what he and his sister had done. In fact, David had, at times, been so guilt-ridden that he hadn't had the nerve to look Diana up after all of these years-even when his father's death had made it easy to do so. However, whatever guilt David had experienced, whatever guilt he still experienced as a result of that long-ago happening in the woods with his sister, those guilts were almost completely overpowered by the here-and-now. This time and this place gave David the perfect excuse for doing what he was doing-quite aside from the fact that, as a virile young man, he wanted this sexy young woman (all aspects of incest, per se, thrust to one side).
With a slow, teasing push, David used his thumbs to press Diana's hair-haloed cunt lips apart to expose the softly pink and glistening folds of flesh beyond the doorway.
"Don't ... don't ... don't!" Diana groaned, unable to keep her eyes off what David was doing. As far as Diana was concerned, she and David were the only two people in the room at that precise moment.
Diana knew what David was plannig to do, didn't she? She knew that he was going to bury his face between her legs and bury his tongue up her cunt. Was it humanly possible that a brother could actually do that to his sister? Oh, Diana had fantasized it enough times. But the reality was far more frightening than the make-believe.
The reality had always been more frightening, hadn't it? Even back in the woods, when Diana had initiated the sexual contact, it had been frightening. Oh, Diana would have liked believing that she had been so worldly at the time that she had been able to flaunt ancient taboos with no repercussions; but, she had only been fooling herself, hadn't she? She had been scared shitless then (she had run, hadn't she?), and she was scared shitless now.
And, the most frightening fear of all revolved around the possibility that she might actually find she enjoyed this now as she had enjoyed the incest before. Enjoy it-as a matter-of-fact-to the detriment of all other sex. Hadn't, after all, her childhood fumblings with David been one direct cause of the failing of Diana's marriage?
David uttered a low, guttural grunt of appreciation just before burying his face into the vee of his sister's spread crotch. His tongue flicked out, sampling the juices slicking Diana's inner cuntal folds.
"Oooooooh, god, don't do this!" Diana pleaded as richly delicious and horribly lewd sensations raced through her whole body, making her flesh and guts tingle with a mad all-consuming pleasure.
But David, who hadn't quite gotten up the nerve necessary to shatter the final incest barrier by ramming his hard cock up his sister's pussy, was surprised by how easily his mouth and tongue had taken to the lusciousness of Diana's cunt. From hand to tongue to cock: a logical progression. With each second David's face stayed anchored where it was between Diana's legs, David gained confidence that, when the time arrived, he would quite be able to pull off the fucking of his sister's pussy by his blood-bloated prick. And do so with an aplomb that would defy Helga or Kyle to realize that David was pumping to climax up his own sister's vagina.
David ran his tongue up and down Diana's thin, vaginal slicing, probing and exploring until he located the woman's budded clitoris. With a maddening spiral-like motion, David's tongue licked the quivering mound of trembling female erection.
"Oh, pleeeeez, nooooo!" Diana moaned, more of the horror of what was happening dawning upon Her.
Why ... in ... the ... hell ... had ... she ... come ... back ... to ... this?
Diana gave another whine of agonized pleasure as David's mouth closed over her hardened flesh bud as the clitoris strained against David's flicking tongue.
Diana jiggled her chains one more time, trying once again to free herself from this madman who was filling her with sensations she had long thought buried inside of her beyond recovery. However, as before, her struggles were of no avail. If they did anything, they only somehow increased the swelling pleasure of Diana's cunt spasms around her brother's fucking tongue.
David continued his maddening lick of Diana's cuntal lips. His tongue slithered in and out of his sister's saliva-and-oil-drenched pussy, jabbing at the soft folds of throbbing pink flesh.
"Fuck her!" Kyle commanded. Watching, he had become even hotter and hotter. Even Kyle had been pleasantly surprised to see just how excited he could get by watching David going down on Diana. But, as exciting as it was in watching David eat out Diana's cunt, Kyle's needs required the sight of David's blood-bloated prick plunging in and then gliding out of Diana's cock-fucked vagina.
"Yea, she's ready for it," Helga observed, hearing the slurpy sounds that David's sucking mouth was making over the juices bubbling from Diana's cunt. And, Helga found herself surprisingly jealous that it was Diana's pussy and not Helga's cunt getting the benefit of David's obvious expertise.
And, David responded by pulling his mouth and tongue free of Diana's sexual pit, knowing for a fact that Diana's cunt was more than ready for even David's sizable inches. As much as Diana might have been protesting the idea of getting screwed, the condition of her pussy belied her words.
Diana's wet-warm cunt wanted the feel of hard cock all right! And, Brother David had just the length of phallic meatiness to fit the bill!
David came to his feet, bringing his hooded head closer to his sister's flushed face. David dropped his right hand to his blood-heavy cock to fist it, a triumphal gleam in his blue-green eyes.
"Want fucked, don't you, Diana?" David asked, his voice throaty from the same pleasure that had his hand-fisted cock pulsing against the curved palm of David's right hand.
"Oh, don't do this!" Diana mumbled for what she assumed had to be the umpteenth time. "Please ... please ... please ... think of what you are doing."
"Believe me: I am thinking about just that," David said, pulling back his hips and pulling down his prick so that his pulpy cock head glided through Diana's golden pubic strands to make contact with Diana's wet and glistening cunt slash.
"Feel it, baby, feel it," David said, his body trembling as he realized the only thing that separated him from his sister's clutching inner cunt was a quick bucking of his hips. "Feel my cock? Do you?"
How could Diana help but feel it as David's pulpy cock glans was moved up and back ... up and back ... along the tiny vertical mouth between Diana's legs? Diana could even feel the sticky juices that oozed from David's cock mouth to soak Diana's vaginal mouth.
David told himself that it would probably be easier to make this final surrender to incestuous lust in one hurried motion: by burying his prick to his cum-ballooned balls in one brutal, quick motion. However, as if going more slowly would make what he was doing somehow less horrible than it possibly was, he delivered a slow but steady pressure that had his cock head slowly but surely pressing open Diana's cunt doors.
Diana gasped, her breath caught in her throat. She was beset by a combination of irrepressible desire and agonizing guilt. She clenched her teeth, fighting against those delicious quiverings that were progressing outward from the point of cock-cunt contact and into the rest of her body.
"For God's sake, don't!" Diana grunted as David's cock head nudged itself a little deeper inside of her. And even Diana realized that her last protest had come out with hardly enough force to instill pity in even the most sympathetic of attackers.
Further pressure of David's lower body sunk the man's cock in even deeper. Diana's cunt mouth was now ovaled some two inches down along David's thick sexual shaft.
Diana was on the verge of thinking how it did feel damned good, when....
WHAT IN THE HELL WAS SHE THINKING? THIS WAS RAPE, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! AND NOT JUST ORDINARY RAPE, BUT INCESTUOUS RAPE IN THE BARGAIN!
"Noooooo!" Diana screamed, given a new sense of rebellious strength upon being beset by the horror that it was her own brother's cock fucking inside of her.
Diana jerked on her chains, somehow managing a certain torquing movement of her body that caused David's cock to slip completely free of the hold it had attained up Diana's pussy. David's released prick head deflected off the puffy lips of Diana's vagina and ran upward along the woman's soft belly. Wherever the cock head slid, it trailed behind it a snail-like tracing of transparent slickness that was a combination of David's leaked pre-seminal juices and of Diana's oily female lubricant.
"You bitch!" David proclaimed angrily, realizing his cock was no longer screwing pussy but thin air. "You ... goddamned ... shitty ... bitch!"
And, David pulled back long enough to deliver a loud, hard slap to his sister's face: a blow which did very little to still Diana's body as it jerked like it had gone into grand-mal seizure.
David could have waited for his sister's latest spasms to cease. Diana, after all, wasn't going anywhere, was she? Her sudden spurt of energy was bound to subside eventually, once again giving David easy access to Diana's body.
David, however, wasn't prepared to wait. He was furious that he had conquered his fears of incest while his sister-who had that day in the woods seemed the more worldly of the two-continued to hold on to hers. Not only that, but David-like any red-blooded man interrupted during sexual insertion-was hotter than hell and desperately needed the return of his prick into Diana's vagina.
David clamped his left hand into a claw-like grip on Diana's right thigh. He moved in closer, using his right hand to guide his cock back to the target area.
Three times, David's cock head met with Diana's juice-slicked cunt mouth. Three times, David's hips banged forward. Three times, a jerk and a twist of Diana's body thwarted penetration of David's cock into Diana's pussy. Diana's belly Was latticed with sexual snail-tracings oozed from the glide of David's misaligned penis across it.
Finally, David met with success: a forward flicking of his hips fucking his cock all of the way to its halfway mark up his sister's cunt.
"Ooooooeeiiiiiiunnnngh!" Diana moaned in a long, low wailing of pleasure/pain.
David partially withdrew his prick and then rammed it back into Diana's pussy even further than it had been before.
"Get fucked, sister-bitch!" David grunted. His cock sufficiently enlodged to prevent any immediate recurrences of what had come before, David ran both of his hands around to Diana's buttocks where they took a firm hold of Diana's ass cheeks.
"Ooooohhhh, nooooo!" Diana moaned helplessly, having to realize that it was all over. Whatever it was she had been attempting to prove by resisting here, it had all been for nothing. She was getting her cunt screwed by her own brother's cock anyway.
AND, WASN'T THAT WHAT SHE HAD WANTED FOR MORE THAN THESE PAST TEN YEARS?
"Want some more of my hard cock?" David asked, hardly noticing that the front of his leather jacket and pants had gone dark from Diana's perspiration. "I've still got more, you know? There's still a good third of my prick yet to go. That's almost four long inches ready to ram up your spasming guts to join the other eight."
"Oh ... no ... o ... o...!" Diana wailed.
But, David, revolving as much of his cock as he did have in place, saw the wide-eyed look on Diana's face and recognized it for what it was.
"Sure you do, bitch!" David contradicted. "You want all of me inside of you, don't you? You want all twelve inches of my stud cock jabbed into the pit of your belly."
"Noooooo," Diana insisted to the contrary, knowing her answer was a lie. She did want all of his cock inside of her, didn't she? Hell, why not admit it? Whether she admitted it or not, the cock was going to get plugged inside of her, wasn't it?
My God, how ironic that where ten years before it had been Diana who had first touched David's cock, it was now David who had carried the union to its completion-despite Diana's protests.
"Tell me how you want the rest of my prick," David said, still refraining from burying the rest of his cock until Diana came down off her high horse and admitted she was getting no more nor less than she had always wanted. "Go ahead, bitch! Let me hear you tell me that you want it!"
"Y-yes," Diana whispered; but, her whisper obviously wasn't enough.
"What did you say, bitch?" David asked loudly. His cum-bulged testicles were moving inside of his contracting scrotal sac. "I couldn't hear you."
"Y-yes," Diana repeated, this time a little more loudly.
"Y-yes, what?" David mocked. "I want it."
"Want what? Come on, bitch. Want what?"
"It."
"It? You mean my cock? You mean you want my cock?"
"Oh, Jesus, please don't make me...."
"Come on, bitch. Call it cock. Cock ... cock ... fucking cock. Say, 'Let me have your thick cock jabbed up my cunt!' Go ahead, bitch! Damn it, go ahead!"
And, David knew Diana was shortly going to get the last four inches of his prick whether she got around to begging for it or not. David was only human! And what kind of guy could bury two-thirds of his cock into hot pussy and keep from putting in the last of it?
Diana's lips trembled, and she stifled a sob. She was still reluctant to request of David the cock she wanted from him, as if not asking for it somehow meant she wasn't already as committed to this incestuous act as she already obviously was.
"Ask for it, cunt!" David commanded, his hands clamping down as hard as they could against the flesh of Diana's bruised buttocks.
"Give me your cock!" Diana screamed. "Give ... me ... your ... goddamned ... cock!"
And, David gave it to her, glad as all hell that he had outlasted his sister. He plowed his cock so deep and so far up Diana's cunt that no one could have told whose blond pubic hair it was mashed between their mated bellies.
"Ooooooeeeeiiiiii!" Diana squealed as the last fraction of her brother's cock was socked into place. She felt the slap of David's scrotum as the inward fuck momentum brought it up through Diana's legs into a slapping against her ass.
"Sure, I'll give you my cock, baby," David said, beginning a fucking cadence that pulled his cock out ... pushed it in ... pulled it out. "I'll give it to you again ... and again ... and again ... until you'll never want another cock again."
And, what's more, Diana believed him!
David's cock bore into Diana's clinging cuntal softness, Diana's cunt thrilling to the way it was taking and releasing David's fucking meatiness.
Diana moaned in forbidden lust, her soundings a kind of audio aphrodisiac that made David's fucking take on an even faster momentum. David, grinning in satisfaction, continued flexing the total length of his prick back and forth ... back and forth ... in Diana's juice-flooded, cock-chafed vaginal cavern.
"Oh, good ... oh, God ... good," David mumbled, letting his sister know how much he appreciated the countering pressure of her gripping cunt muscles against David's hard prick.
The soaked walls of Diana's coral, wet-warm pussy rippled with the wonderful, inner caress of her brother's moving cock.
"Ugh!" Diana grunted, her body reflexively beginning to respond to David's fucking. Diana's hips were swinging forward each time David socked his prick forward, swinging back each time David began pulling his friction-reddened meatiness out to its swollen cock head.
David's massive, blood-hardened penis pounded in and then out of his sister's slavering, sucking cunt. And, David intuitively sensed the growing arousal of the woman hung on chains before him.
"Sister-bitch! Sister-bitch!" David whispered so close to Diana's ear that neither Helga nor Kyle could be actually aware of what David was saying. As a matter-of-fact, about all Kyle was presently aware of was the erotic view he had of David's juice-slicked prick slamming forward with such power into Diana's cunt that David's balls were almost rammed into Diana's pussy right along with David's stiff prick.
Diana, by this time, was constantly moaning and sighing, gasping loudly each and every time David jammed his entire sexual stiffness deep into Diana's quivering guts.
"Tell me you love it!" David commanded. 'Tell me ... fucking ... tell me ... fucking tell me!"
Although the telling was superfluous (David and Diana both knew Diana was enjoying), Diana obliged.
"I love it ... goddamn it!" Diana moaned, her cunt sucking up her brother's cock to David's knotted prick roots. "I love it ... fucking love it ... fucking love it."
Kyle Harrison got up from his chair. It was time; and, he was ready. Goddamn, but Helga was to be congratulated in that it had been one hell of a long time since Kyle had run across a fucking pair that had gotten him turned on quite as much as David and Diana had done.
And, how magnificent that David had been so good-so expert-that David had gotten the victim to actually admit she was enjoying her rape. Magnificent! Utterly magnificent!
Kyle's cock, eleven inches of blood-glutted meatiness, was so stiff that it appeared to defy gravity by maintaining its upjutting stance. Its total length was smeared with juices which had leaked from Kyle's cock mouth to be veneered by Kyle's fingers along the man's swollen prick neck.
From the base of Kyle's cock, pulled free of his leather pants, was Kyle's ball-ballooned scrotum. Contracted somewhat by Kyle's present state of excitement, Kyle's scrotal bag was a burl-like mass attached to Kyle's trunk-like penile erection.
Both Diana and David were so caught up in the ecstasy of the moment that neither noticed Kyle moving around behind Diana's hung body. Diana was, of course, the first to realize that Kyle Harrison was more than a mere voyeur when she felt her anus being suddenly stretched wide, her narrow anal walls popping open for the large, spit-drenched finger Kyle was proceeding to push between them.
"don't DO THAT!" Diana screamed. And, David was momentarily at a loss as to explain why his sister had once again changed her tune. "STOP THAT ... YOU BASTARD ... STOP THAT!"
Diana's eyes helplessly leaked their salty tears as the young woman realized she was to be forced into enduring what had to be the ultimate defilement: fucked in the ass while her brother raped her pussy.
Kyle was only further excited by Diana's protests. He wormed his finger deeper, corkscrewing it up the woman's clutching rectum.
For Diana, this latest assault was almost too much to bear. While she had just started being able to accept her brother's cock inside of her, she now had to put up with a complete stranger's finger jabbed up her ass hole.
It was obscene!
David continued right along with his fucking, not realizing he had been joined by Kyle until he felt the man's finger twisting up Diana's rectum on the other side of the thin cuntal membrane that separated Diana's vagina from her ass hole. Then, strangely enough, David found himself only excited-rather than put off-by the idea of having another man join him in the molestation of David's sister. Besides, something told David that, just as Diana's earlier protests had eventually mellowed into grunts and growls of pleasure, so these latest outbursts would eventually metamorphose into something else.
David pulled Diana's naked ass cheeks so wide that the woman was fully aware of the pain even above the pleasure her brother's cock was continually flooding into the opposite side of her body. Diana tried to squirm away. But just as there had been no escaping David's cock, there was no escaping Kyle's raping finger.
"Jesus ... Jesus ... Jesus," Diana moaned, feeling quite relieved when Kyle's finger finally slipped back and completely free of Diana's rectum. What remained behind it was a kind of tingling che accompanied by a pleasurable itching sensation.
Diana tried to crane her neck back so that she could see what Kyle was planning next. She knew what it felt like, but....
JESUS, IT COULDN'T BE, COULD IT?
Diana had never-NEVER-been fucked in the ass by cock. The whole idea was almost as taboo-ridden as incest.
MY GOD, THIS WAS SODOMY THIS BASTARD WAS PROPOSING! SODOMY, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! AND, HOW COULD DAVID ALLOW IT?
"He's going to screw my ass!" Diana literally screamed into her brother's ear. "That shit is going to FUCK MY ASS HOLE!"
David, who had been wondering what Kyle planned to get out of his paid evening entertainment now knew. However, if Diana thought David was going to be coming to her rescue, she was sadly mistaken. David was quite beyond coming to anyone but his own rescue at that moment. His prime motivation was simply to pump ... pump ... pump ... Diana's cunt until he could get his pearly sperm to erupting into the spasming depths of Diana's clutching vagina.
"NOOOOOO!" Diana screamed, feeling Kyle's exerted weight pushing his cock head more firmly into Diana's anus. "NOOOOO ... CHRIST ... NOOO-OOOO!"
But, Kyle wasn't going to be put off. Without giving Diana more moments thought than he already had allowed her, Kyle plunged his huge, lust-bloated cock into Diana's rectum in one long, piston-like fuck stroke. His cock, like a dagger, knifed deeply into Diana's virgin ass hole.
AAAAUGGGHHMMMUFFFFF!" Diana moaned, gagging on her own sounds as Kyle's pile-driving prick was locked deeply up her anus. "STOP THAT ... JESSSSSSSUUUUUUSSSSUUUGGGHHHH ... NOOOO!"
Diana's body was now being riveted simultaneously by two huge pricks. Cock belly to cock belly, David and Kyle's cocks were sliding against each other, separated only by one thin piece of female membranous dividing tissue.
"Please, no ... no ... pleeeeez," Diana groaned, feeling the heat rising in her loins and in her ass hole. Her whole lower body was raging in the resulting holocaust.
Diana was, therefore, unpleasantly surprised when her body-somehow bestowed with an apparent will all its own-began to grind her buttocks and cunt in a slow, revolving movement over the cocks that were sticking her.
Kyle and David simultaneously slammed their hips forward, the force causing Diana's fucked body to raise between them. Diana's back was mashed by Kyle's leather-covered chest, while her breasts were mashed against her brother's leather-covered pectorals.
The bruised and ravaged walls of Diana's virgin rectum began to quiver uncontrollably as they grew wetter and wetter from the copious gushings of pre-seminal juices that were constantly seeping from Kyle's cock mouth.
Diana's mouth flew open, emitting a muted gasping sound as she once again experienced the deeply skewering rigidity of Kyle's prick as it was driven all of the way into her bowel. On her other side, Diana could feel her brother's hard prick pulverizing her cunt with equal force-and velocity.
Diana's whole body seemed to throb with intense and primitive rhythm. And, Diana was conscious of the fact that her pain was quickly fading beneath....
JESUS ... BENEATH HER OWN WANTON DESIRES?
Diana continued to be battered beneath the two thrusting pricks: a piece of the human sandwich that had two male bodies parenthesizing her like two slices of bread enclosed about a strip of tender, succulent meat.
"Uuuuugh!" Diana heard herself moaning with increasing abandonment as her lust began to more and more take over Diana's earlier reactions of pain and revulsion.
"Oh, she does love it, doesn't she?" Kyle commented in pleased amazement, his cock priming toward eruption as it was masturbated against Diana's collapsing anal walls as well as against David's fucking cock meatiness just beyond the membranous veil. "She's a real cock-lover, this one, isn't she, stud?"
David, his pleasure on the upsurge, began to slam his prick upward in stronger and heartier fuck strokes. It ... wasn't ... going ... to ... be ... too ... long ... before David's cum-ballooned balls burst to send his luscious sperm flooding into his sister's cock-clogged pussy.
Diana's mind was all awhirl. Gurgling moans of savage passion spilled from between her lips as Diana's cunt and ass continued to be mercilessly screwed on the two massive and hurtful cocks.
"Uuuuuggguuhhhheeessss!" Diana hissed, feeling as if her lower body were now nothing but one large, cock-crammed hole growing bigger ... and bigger ... and bigger. She wondered if her ass and cunt had split to merge as one.
Diana's moans turned quickly, however, into high-pitched animalistic wails of arousal as her body automatically began adjusting atop the two phallic poles on which it was skewered. Diana's cunt and ass gave a sudden reflexive compression inward around both pricks, Diana's delicate cuntal and anal flesh hugging the twin cocks so tightly that Diana was sure she could detect the slight bulgings of each and every vein that lined the slickly sliding pricks.
"Tell us you love it, bitch!" Kyle commanded, his scrotum so contracted by his pleasure that his giant balls had completely been elevated into his lower belly. "Tell us ... Jesus, goddamn, bitch ... tell us!"
Diana's head dropped back on her neck, her eyes rolling so that they showed only their whites. A thin trickle of saliva drooled from one corner of her mouth and slipped down her chin.
"Ooooohhhh, fucking, yes ... I love it! I love it!"
Diana moaned. "Fuck my cunt. Fuck my ass. Screw me until I cum ... cum ... cum!"
And, suddenly, it was just as much Diana who was setting the fucking rhythm as it was the two men who were riding the woman. Diana was sliding back and forth, bouncing up and down, working her sexual holes frantically along the two pricks that were fucking them. She was pushing. She was pumping. She was dancing while her pink-red tongue lolled out of her mouth, while she panted loudly in her lust, while she tasted the animalistic pleasure that was quickly propelling her toward climax.
"I want to cum!" Diana squealed, knowing that she was about to get her very wish.
HELL, WHEN HAD SHE EVER-EVER-FELT THIS KEYED UP WITH ENJOYMENT BEFORE?
"Ugh!" she grunted, laboring harder to clamp the two cocks securely inside of her before flinging her hips faster than ever before. She rocked back and forth as she rode the two phallic spears that last fraction of an inch to eruption.
"Good ... good ... Jesus, good," Kyle mumbled, lost in his own soaring passion.
And, Diana wasn't the only one who was suddenly catapulted into orgasm. At almost the exact moment Diana was shaking in climax, David let loose his throbbing lust-churned ejaculation. His thick wads of pearly male cream sprayed Diana's cunt with streamers of boiling cum, filling Diana's pussy until the juices came dripping out of Diana's cock-plugged sex hole to form white rivulets to drain downward along Diana's milky thighs.
"Now! Now! Fucking now!" Kyle bellowed loudly.
And, Helga, who had been waiting for her cue, brought the cat-o'-nine-tails down hard across Kyle's back and buttocks. She raised the whip again ... and again ... and again ... to turn Kyle's back (beneath its covering of black leather) into a maze of crisscross lash marks.
"JESUS ... FUCK ... YES!" Kyle screamed in helpless eruption, pumping his seeming gallons of plentiful sex-cream into the depths of Diana's hungrily gulping ass hole.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kyle had been-pleased. Helga had been pleased. After that evening, David was in solid. There would never be any question of his loyalty. The next time Helga arranged one of her sessions, David felt confident he would know just where to have the police come for the bust-whether they lost Helga during a tail or not.
The problem, of course, was now whether David wanted to bust Helga. Because, if David had discovered nothing else that evening, it was that he had enjoyed this whole bondage-and-discipline thing. And the b and d, combined with the obvious incestuous implications, had really had David flying high.
"I know it's you, David," Diana said. She was still hanging from the chains, watching the lone member of the attack group who remained in the room with her.
Helga and Kyle had left, turning over the mop-up operations to David. Helga had shown David where the bottle of ether was. All David had to do was use the ether to render Diana unconscious, unchain the woman and drive her to a designated drop-off location.
"I do know," Diana said, wondering if David were prepared to carry out this charade to its end.
"You're crazy!" David said. "If you think I'm your brother, you're as crazy as all hell!"
David walked over to the cabinet and brought down the bottle of ether as well as a large wad of cotton.
"Come on, now, David," Diana said. "You're not really going to go to the bother of rendering me unconscious, now, are you? Let's not be ridiculous. After all, it's not like either of us came out of this any the worse for wear, is it?"
"Doesn't it bother you-if I were your brother-that the two of us did something here tonight that society frowns upon?"
"Not particularly," Diana answered. And, for the first time in her life, she thought she could answer truthfully. In fact, she was feeling exceptionally good after all of that incest, sodomy, and girl-girl sex (the latter occurring when Helga had once decided to join in the action). "Does it bother you?"
And, David had to take a couple of seconds to think that over, didn't he? Because, while he had successfully rationalized it all to the point where he had gone so far as to fuck his sister, he was-now that the fuck was over-once again beset by some definite guilt about the whole affair. After all, he had raped his sister, hadn't he? And, even setting the aspect of rape to one side (was it rape when the woman enjoyed it? and, Diana had enjoyed it!), there were the incestuous aspects.
David began to unscrew the cap of the ether bottle. Maybe it was better just to knock his sister out and then drop her off somewhere, pretending later that David didn't know anything at all about what had happened to Diana after their supposed separation at the disco. That way, even though David would be forced to deal with his guilt, Diana would never be plagued by the knowledge that she really had gone "all of the way" with her brother.
"You know," Diana said, her nostrils dilating with the smell from the bottle, a smell that had quickly managed to cover the considerable distance between them, "that if you go ahead with this part of it that you'll only be ruining what we've found here this evening, don't you?"
"Ruining?" David asked curiously.
"We've finally done what we've always wanted to do, haven't we?" Diana asked. "We've finally got around to fucking each other. Now, you want ridiculously to pretend as if nothing has happened, don't you? You want to run now like I ran before; but, running doesn't accomplish anything, brother dear. Take it from your sister who tried the running for ten years."
David paused in what he was doing, wondering if he were preparing to run. And if he was, would he really prove anything by doing so?
"So, put the cap back on that bottle, David, and take off that hood. I'll grant you that the black leather added a nice touch, but it's time you and I got back to the reality. You fucked me; I liked it. It took a good long road for us to get to this particular moment of self-realization in our relationship, so let's don't spoil it. Let's don't waste any of this time and effort expended here this evening on our behalf."
David put the cap back on the bottle and turned back to his sister.Diana was right, wasn't she? They had fucked. They had enjoyed the fucking, as they had always suspected-and each feared-that they would. By pretending that it hadn't happened didn't mean it didn't happen, did it? So, wasn't it more healthy for all involved to bring it all out into the open?
"Take off your hood, David," Diana insisted. She, for one, really wanted an end to the game-playing.
David hesitated a moment and then began loosening the drawstrings that kept his hood secure around his neck. Still, he was reluctant to uncover his face; although, it had to be obvious that removing it was merely a formality at this point. Diana, after all, did know it was David, didn't she?
"Take off the hood, David," Diana instructed again.
And, David-hooking the fingers of his right hand beneath the hood-peeled the black leather encasement off over his face. He dropped the hood on the counter next to the ether bottle and ran his fingers through his blond hair which had become matted beneath the leather shell.
"Now," Diana said, momentarily forgetting the paining caused by the continued chafing of the metal manacles against her wrists and her ankles, "with the disguises all aside, each of us knowing full well who we are and what we are, I want you to bring that big cock of yours over here and fuck me again. That is if you can still manage an erection after all you've already been through this evening."
As if in response to Diana's conjecture, David's nowflaccid cock gave a decided jerk and began to stretch to new fullness with blood. It had soon pulsed to a complete and powerful hard-on.
"Fuck me, brother," Diana said. "Fuck me."
"Yea, sister," David agreed, walking toward Diana in chains, his thick cock weaving back and forth ... back and forth ... in front of his washboarded belly, his bull-like balls slapping gently against his muscular thighs. "I'll fuck you until you'll be spoiled for any other cock but that of your brother."
Which, other than being pure boast, turned out to be just exactly what David did do.
