The stiffening penis, poorly concealed, came slowly but surely toward her kitchen door. Mrs. Arthur Pringle knew her moment of conquest was at hand. Before that cock would be allowed to leave her home, she would lure it to enter her gorgeous sex-starved body.
That would be a fantastic first for both of them. Pammy Pringle never had committed adultery and that grotesquely overdeveloped cock bulging under the store apron never had been inside a woman. Pammy was positive Derek London was still a virgin, in spite of his seventeen years, for his mother, her best friend, said her son had told her.
Pammy stared through her kitchen window as Derek started up the flagstone path, arms loaded with two overfilled grocery bags. Not exactly a sex object, she giggled nervously, watching the curious tenting low on his store apron. He actually thought she didn't know what was going on. Under the white cotton cover his cock was surging in anticipation of his private little game with her, just as it had every delivery for the past six months.
Till now Pammy had enjoyed being the object of Derek's lust while he pretended to help her put away the groceries. "All part of Quinlan Super Market super service," he'd chuckle tensely, unloading the bags on the sink counter. Then he'd masturbate with phenomenal quickness under the apron when she turned her back to him to put things into the fridge.
But the week just past had changed all. Derek's mother had told her over coffee how alarmed she was at his games with himself. "He plays with it so much," worried Morna to Pammy. "I walked, in his bedroom today to wake him for school and he didn't even try to hide it under the covers. It's good he's open around me and I'm proud he's such a stallion. He swears he's 'saving the real thing' for the right girl. And, Pam, he fondled it right out in the open, lying there grinning that cute way of his. Said, 'When Miss Right comes into my life, I want to be ready with a big one!' "
Little goose bumps of runaway want had washed over Pammy Pringle as she'd listened. So Derek was only exercising his organ over her on those grocery deliveries, was he? Both angry and aroused she had plotted the whole week what she'd wanted to do for years. Betray her husband and take a boy's virginity. She knew in the end it could cost her Morna's friendship, at the least, and her husband, at the most. Morna was so proud of Derek's dedication and Arthur so jealous of Pam's fidelity. A last glance at the mirror in the breakfast alcove re fleeted the shocking costume she'd chosen for the seduction of Derek. Never in her neat, prim neighbor years on Willow Lane had she allowed anyone other than Arthur to see her so unclad in her home. Hardened nipples capping ripe thrusting breasts were urgent against the peek-a-boo halter of her bikini. Long silver blonde hair tumbling loosely at her shoulders accented the impudent shapeliness of her rear view. It was that view which greeted Derek as he pushed open the kitchen door.
"Eeehh, Derek! I didn't hear you coming!" She darted in pretend dismay into the walk-in laundry storage closet. "I'm practically naked!"
"S'all right, Mrs. Pringle. I ... ohmigosh...." As he tried to twist toward the counter to conceal instant total tenting under his apron, one grocery bag ripped and the contents spewed across the linoleum. Face flooded with red, he dropped to his knees to grab for the rolling cans and vegetables.
"Dear goodness! Let me help. I guess you've seen bathing suits before." Pam crouched to gather the remains of a dozen eggs, her entrancing and dazzling near nudity on daring display to an inflamed Derek. It was too good to be true. It was almost more than he could fight not to let go and rip aside the apron to let her see then and there what she did. Or better, to hell with his virginity! Give her what a stack job like that really needs. But how? Godawful to be so innocent at his age! he fumed silently.
He grabbed two large cans to beat a retreat to safety. "I'll just put these in your closet, shall I?" he croaked, stumbling toward the shadowed walk in.
"Thank you, Derek." Apparently oblivious to all but the broken eggs, Pamela missed not one bit of the play in apron. He actually thought she didn't know what was going on. Under the white cotton cover his cock was surging in anticipation of his private little game with her, just as it had every delivery for the past six months.
Till now Pammy had enjoyed being the object of Derek's lust while he pretended to help her put away the groceries. "All part of Quinlan Super Market super service," he'd chuckle tensely, unloading the bags on the sink counter. Then he'd masturbate with phenomenal quickness under the apron when she turned her back to him to put things into the fridge.
But the week just past had changed all. Derek's mother had told her over coffee how alarmed she was at his games with himself. "He plays with it so much," worried Morna to Pammy. "I walked, in his bedroom today to wake him for school and he didn't even try to hide it under the covers. It's good he's open around me and I'm proud he's such a stallion. He swears he's 'saving the real thing' for the right girl. And, Pam, he fondled it right out in the open, lying there grinning that cute way of his. Said, 'When Miss Right comes into my life, I want to be ready with a big one!' "
Little goose bumps of runaway want had washed over Pammy Pringle as she'd listened. So Derek was only exercising his organ over her on those grocery deliveries, was he? Both angry and aroused she had plotted the whole week what she'd wanted to do for years. Betray her husband and take a boy's virginity. She knew in the end it could cost her Morna's friendship, at the least, and her husband, at the most. Morna was so proud of Derek's dedication and Arthur so jealous of Pam's fidelity.
A last glance at the mirror in the breakfast alcove re fleeted the shocking costume she'd chosen for the seduction of Derek. Never in her neat, prim neighbor years on Willow Lane had she allowed anyone other than Arthur to see her so unclad in her home. Hardened nipples capping ripe thrusting breasts were urgent against the peek-a-boo halter of her bikini. Long silver blonde hair tumbling loosely at her shoulders accented the impudent shapeliness of her rear view. It was that view which greeted Derek as he pushed open the kitchen door.
"Eeehh, Derek! I didn't hear you coming!" She darted in pretend dismay into the walk-in laundry storage closet. "I'm practically naked!"
"S'all right, Mrs. Pringle. I ... ohmigosh...." As he tried to twist toward the counter to conceal instant total tenting under his apron, one grocery bag ripped and the contents spewed across the linoleum. Face flooded with red, he dropped to his knees to grab for the rolling cans and vegetables.
"Dear goodness! Let me help. I guess you've seen bathing suits before." Pam crouched to gather the remains of a dozen eggs, her entrancing and dazzling near nudity on daring display to an inflamed Derek. It was too good to be true. It was almost more than he could fight not to let go and rip aside the apron to let her see then and there what she did. Or better, to hell with his virginity! Give her what a stack job like that really needs. But how? Godawful to be so innocent at his age! he fumed silently.
He grabbed two large cans to beat a retreat to safety. "I'll just put these in your closet, shall I?" he croaked, stumbling toward the shadowed walk in.
"Thank you, Derek." Apparently oblivious to all but the broken eggs, Pamela missed not one bit of the play in the closet, watching surreptitiously from long practice. She caught her breath at his passionate disregard of precaution as he flicked the apron and pounded openly. It could all be over in seconds and maybe he was a one-shot man.
She scooped the egg yolk into the soup tureen and darted to the sink where she found the excuse waiting. "I want this Raid bug can on the top shelf out of the way." She hurried into the closet, stretching past him to try to reach the impossible upper shelf, deliberately pressing against her trembling helper as she strained on tiptoe.
With an exclamation of exasperation, she shoved the Raid into Derek's hand and remained snugly against his side as she pointed to the place she wanted the insecticide. "Will you put it right there for me, Derek? Definitely a job for a tall man."
It happened that quickly.
Trapped to do her bidding, he reached for the high shelf and simultaneously Pamela brushed from his side as if to pass.
"Oh, dear God, whatever!" She froze motionless against the tented apron, the uproarious prick jammed impudently against her vee mound. In almost utter silence, with only Pamela's breathless murmur breaking the electric quiet, bold fingers caught at the apron's bow and she pulled.
"Awwwggghhh!" A fiercely inflated cock crown jammed directly into the valley of the meeting of her sleek legs, the outsized glans gleaming like some giant chestnut between their bodies.
With no visible movement, her smoothly tapered thighs parted slightly. Abruptly the knobby cap slipped from view through the tender flesh of very ready cunt lips. In one split second an utterly helpless Derek London was trapped in the vagina threshold. He was inside the body of Mrs. Arthur Pringle. He and his gorgeous neighbor lady were actually fucking.
His head spun in disbelief as he looked down at the stud-like white gristle of his phallus cemented into her just below that maddening dark triangle of pubic down.
Wild, meaningless questions charged Derek's bewildered mind. Where did her polka dot bikini panties go? How did their two bodies lock with neither moving? Then the out-of-this-world truth commandeered him. Nothing could ever feel more beautiful in all his life. No way to fight the need to thrust and thrust and ,thrust again. Deeper and still deeper. He was doing it! He was a cocksman!
No matter she was married. Neither he nor she caused this to happen. And she was like a person hypnotized out of it. Not even knowing she was doing it. They both were trapped and he was being dragged farther and farther from sight inside a warm, clutching tunnel.
Her head lolled back to his hard pistoning and he could see her beautiful eyes staring dumbfounded into his, wide and disbelieving. Her pretty lips were ovaled in shocked surprise. Derek was sure she was as amazed as he at what had happened. And now her eyes were closing in response to the wild sensations between them.
"More ... more!" came panting little pleas but he knew she couldn't know she was saying that.
He gave her more because he had to and because he had so much more to give. Gasping, overcome by his boldness, he clasped a hand behind her naked tail, again wondering eerily where her cover had gone. Cupping one hand on an urging, impudent ass cheek, he tugged at the bikini halter string with the other. All the super boobs he'd fantasized Mrs. Pringle possessed were on bared display. Fabulous ivory! The jutting globes leaped to his coital jabs.
"Harder! Harder!" Pammy ground against him to impale herself past halfway on his shaft and simultaneously felt herself slipping into a totally possessing orgasm. A storm of last minute guilt attacked and she tried to stave off the coming. She was brazenly stealing a virtuous boy's virgin cock. And she was betraying her friend and next door neighbor all in one act. Ooohh, but it felt so damned good! Puh ... please," she murmured breathlessly. "What's happening?"
"Don't know!" He grinned as he saw her long lashes flicker up and then quickly down. "Don't be afraid. It's all right." Fantastic, he thought. She doesn't know what's coming off.
Five torturous years of on again/off again mostly absentee husband shuddered through her possessed frame as Pammy felt Derek's organ plow deeper. Guilt moved over for pure pleasure and, arching against the impaling shaft, she climaxed violently, her curvaceous loveliness straining in ecstasy before his eyes. In one spasm-whipped crest after another she orgasmed end-over-end and on the third a boyish hysterical groan announced he was about to present her the gift of his virginity.
It was at that distraught second that all guilt left her. With a shrill cry of passion possessed, she writhed and squirmed to take every drop about to fly. The lubricant of her own come and her frenzy gave him the chance to bury his erection totally. Arched against her, cock fully driven from sight, his head thrown back, Derek let his semen fly deep.
It was at that precise moment his mother slipped quietly through the back door and saw the unbelievable sight. There on the floor, oblivious to all but the end-over-end orgasms racking her, Morna's dearest friend was stealing Derek's precious treasure. The scream stopped at her lips as she dashed across the kitchen toward the two, all unaware of their audience. Then, because the shock was too much, Morna wilted to her knees behind Derek's fuck-driven body and watched it happen.
"Yah! Yahhh! Take it!" He shrilled his ejaculation cry, pumped for frenzied seconds, then crumpled across the nude beneath, his buttocks still humping the last of his semen into her devastatingly beautiful body.
It was in the stark silence that a new fact stung Morna. Not a sound had been heard from Pamela. She was spread-eagled in helpless surrender beneath Morna's son and for a terrified instant Morna wondered if it had been sexual assault by Derek. There was absolute quiet now and with an awful fear to speak, Morna found her voice.
"Very pretty," she murmured.
He stiffened, straightened and when he turned his face was chalk white. "Mommy ... I...."
"Get off her." She said it softly, still not believing it was really happening as she watched her son squirm to withdraw.
"Gosh, I can't!"
And he couldn't. The undiminished hard-on could not come free of its cunt trap. It was that simple and that damned suddenly complicated. Derek was still grossly erected in Pam's body and Morna could see an inch of white thick root become two inches and then stop. Like a hard oaken trunk it was caught in the fantastically stretched pussy of the prettiest body Morna had ever seen.
"Pam," she whispered, "you can stop pretending now. Let him go." Her voice grew strident when there was no flicker of lashes, no giveaway tensing of any muscle on that lovely bod. "Pamela Pringle! Do you hear me? It's done now. Let him free!"
"She's fainted, Mommy." His eyes were dilated with fear as he ducked the angry blow from a frustrated parent. Hitting him was stupid, Morna knew, even as she swung. "I ... I couldn't help it. Honest, she didn't do anything. Not even now and she's makin' me feel funny, wild inside all over again."
"Did you force her?" The accusation burst hotly from Morna.
"Honest to God, no!" His face said it was the truth.
A hundred years would never wash away the memory of how it felt to Morna to make the decision. Convinced that Pammy wasn't acting and also sure she wasn't hurt, Morna suddenly surrendered. Caught in the magic of the electric bond between two beautiful bodies, helpless to reclaim what Derek had given up of his own choosing, she decided to act on the impulse. Later would be time enough for making sense. For right now, let come what may. She stared at the voluptuous wonders of her best friend's nude body. Every precious line of her petite frame was taut with excitement, even in an unconscious state. Morna saw the crumpled bikini at the side. Platinum hair spilled across the smooth taper of Pammy's shoulder seemed to spell out the way it probably had happened. Derek had come in with the groceries and been carried away by the sexiness of Pam's skimpy cover. Pam probably had fainted with shock and Derek had simply helped himself. And now he was locked inside her delicious cunt.
"Can you lift her?" Morna squeezed an arm under Pam's back to convey the idea. "Derek, you've got to try to carry her to the den." She nodded to the louvred door ten feet away and could hardly believe her own words. Actually ordering her son to walk with a woman attached to his hardened penis. In spite of herself, she knew she hoped he would try to do it.
He did.
Groaning against a charge of new desire to piston new copulation thrusts, he tried to get to his feet and half undone clothing tangled his body.
"Wait...! Hold still!" She tugged Derek's shoes from his feet, then his opened pants from his hips and finally the store apron and his sport shirt from his shoulders. Then he was naked, still hard inside Pamela and altogether maddening to Morna-to the both of them. "Now, walk her to the den cot."
Somehow he managed it to his feet, bearing the collapsed torturously sexy Pamela on the thick shank of his erection. Eyes glazed and body rigid, he stumbled after Morna into the pine paneled den. Helpless but to stare at the spectacle, his mother sank to the edge of the couch and watched the young Adonis locked to the torrid female lusciousness of her neighbor. It couldn't be happening, but it was!
And something else was also going on inside the spectator. Surfacing against her will was a long latent heat she herself felt for Pamela. Hidden till now, the sight of that deliciously over-stacked voluptuary on her son's organ was too much. She knew a lust even deeper than Derek's.
"You've got to do it again," she whispered in his ear. "You've got to come and come till there's no more hard left in it."
He gawked as his mother wilted sensuously across Pamela's unresisting loveliness, kissing her breasts, then pursing full lips to suck each nipple. It stormed Derek's numbed brain that there now were three possessed people and somehow that seemed as it should be. Until he saw Morna twist fully around to kiss the locking point of his body to Mrs. Pringle's.
Morna had a pixie face and flame red hair.. Her delicately chiseled profile was never more fetchingly on display than as she nuzzled the meeting point of her son's rampant cock with the wide-split pussy cleft. He moaned as her brazen tongue flicked inquisitively against the inches of his hardened barrel, still exposed, then darted to lick at Pam's tortured cunt slit.
"I'm only trying to help you. Do her, Derek!" Morna hissed the order without breaking contact with Pamela's pulsing vulva. "She needs it and doesn't even know it."
That was a lie. Pam knew she had to fake it from the first sound of Morna's arrival. Most anything could happen if her friend ever knew, and she still might. But now Pammy knew something else. Morna liked girls more than her son's virtue. Morna was caught in the spell of watching Pam taken by a man and the soft caress of the loving tongue told her all. New, wonderful worlds were about to open for Pam.
"Do it, Derek," repeated Morna.
There was a new pace to Derek's next copulation. If his mother hated it, Pamela loved it. He had slowed his frantic ramrodding and seemed now to be savoring this fantastic forced coitus. So swollen still was his bone-like cock that the slower pace dragged Pammy's hips from the couch as he lifted up and then drove down.
It was an incredible seventh heaven to an ecstatic Pam, who knew now her faked unconsciousness had fooled Morna completely. Heady seizure of new climax and her body quivered to the violent spasms tearing at every curve and muscle. No fear now that her open surrender to the rapture would give her away. Morna was busily burrowed into her playground of cock and cunt and clearly caught up in her own ecstasy. Pam's friend was in spontaneous crest with the excitement she felt in the copulating pair.
As she sensed his. new climax nearing, Pam dared a peek through slightly raised lashes. He was looking into her eyes. She made the decision without hesitation and fixed wide brown eyes on his face, staring deeply, unblinkingly, almost trance-like. What a mad feeling it gave her newest orgasm to watch the neophyte lover reach for the first climax that was more for him than mere desperation. He was a natural! It stormed Pammy's thoughts that the perfect finale would be to have the romp end with her seeming still out of it.
"Derek!" Long auburn hair tumbled lightly and teased across Pam's taut tummy as Morna twisted to look up her son's body. "Derek-don't dawdle! You're right on the brink! Come, Derek, come!"
He gawked in sheer disbelief and delight. He'd felt long time lust for his super-stacked mother. She never had felt maternal and their relation was ready to mature. And inside he felt it was there. He knew he could go rigid in the root of his cock and hold against orgasm till he was ready to let fly. New power. Climax control! It grabbed him that he had to see certain things happen before letting go again. Already he could sense the loosening of the bond of cock to cunt and at will he could pull out of Mrs. Pringle.
Girl to girl. It would be beautiful to watch his Morna-mommy go wild alone with Mrs. Pringle. Before this magic moment was over he could maybe even get one thing he'd longed for from Mommy. Proof positive that she loved all of him and not just the usual things. Ever since her disapproving look at his hard-on in his hand that day in bed, he'd wondered.
"You gotta be ashamed, Mommy!" he gasped, slowing his fuck rhythm to look Morna in the eyes. "You're ashamed of us!"
"Darling, no! Never!" Desperation glittered in her eyes, and flame hair swirled side-to-side as she denied it. "I know this just happened. It's no one's fault. I love you both."
"Prove it two ways." He was a man in control. No longer was he the least like seventeen. "Anything!"
"Mrs. Pringle's ... can I say it? ... her cunt is so tight. You gotta worm your tongue between my cock and her cunt. Lick us both. Make her outta her tree even while she's unconscious."
"I'll try that way, Derek." She cocked a curious eyebrow, wondering at his self control, but too lust-driven to doubt his seeming naivete. "What other way?"
"You're gonna have to do somethin' awful for me."
"Tell me ... please ... anything...."
"Gonna have to suck my penis out o' her .vagina. Show me I'm not dirty to you."
"Dirty? Never ... not ever! Mmmmhhh ... sweet, sweet Derek."
A frenzy of red hair tossed happily as she dove to obey her son's bidding. She noodled into the playground of cock and cunt, letting him fondle her breasts and Pammy's alternately, cooing"' excitedly at the erotic lightning charging to every corner of her body.
A delirious Pam, awed by the mother-son play and inflamed by Derek's cool, went passion wild to his plowing prick and the stabbing tongue. One orgasm became another and then she felt a hint of change. He was withdrawing. Moans of barely contained control sharpened to bullish grunts and it was clear he was nearing the greatest of his climaxes.
"Buh ... baby ... yeahhh!" He felt Morna's tongue wet and wild snaking round and round the exposed root of his phallus. The long-contained, fourth blast-off began to grab and now there was no holding back. Her mouth was satin sweetness, milking and munching as the glistening prick barrel slid slowly from Pamela's vagina.
"Bone of your bone, Mommy!" he gasped as Morna's lips nibbled. "What's me came from you, right?"
"Mmmmhhhuhhh!"
A possessed Morna wanted and feared to want.
"Then put part o' me back in you when I pop out." Even as he cried the plea, the mammoth erection sprang free of Pamela's pussy trap, leaping and glistening, its dark thunderhead crown appearing to Morna to be at least three inches in breadth.
Derek grabbed the length of prick pumping the last frenzied seconds before his climax and Morna shrilled at what she thought of as a return to adolescence. Too late! A cannonade of sparkling semen shot helter-skelter from the eyelet, spraying across her face and over Pamela's body, writhing frustrated at the desertion.
"My flesh! My bone!" She grabbed wildly for the discharging prick, stuffing the crimson corona through her lips and sucking in thirsty frenzy to take the rest of the rain shower of his ecstasy.
Pammy watched in spellbound frustration as the taste of semen drove Morna over the orgasm brink. Hips writhing, buttocks thrusting, she seemed to be in imagined intercourse with the organ in her mouth. And then it was done and the great white penis snake slithered from her mouth.
"Suh ... sorry! I got it all over both of you." Derek looked in dazed disbelief at what had shot across both females.
"It's all right." Morna's cheek rested lightly on the curve of Pam's midriff. "But she mustn't wake and find it all over her."
The tense electrifying seconds of cresting were now quiet afterglow, but there was new excitement. Something did have to be done about Pamela and the state she would find herself in when she came to. Bikini stripped away. An ejaculation of male semen spattered across her breasts and face and tummy plateau down into the valley between her thighs. She'd know at once what had happened.
"Let's lick it off her, Mommy." Derek twisted across the lusciously contorted nude who lay convincingly unconscious, arms out-flung and legs widespread to their desires. And desire was rampant in both, needing so slim a reason as Derek's to provoke it to open heat.
An overwhelmed Pamela Pringle felt the warm kisses of ardent Derek roam her upper body, while the sweet soft tongue of dear Morna prowled below her hips. Droplet by droplet the errant semen was collected. Derek's lips moving eagerly across frantic nipples and down over the dramatic curve of her boobs. Then it was Morna's play.
Arms clasped lightly at the sides of Pamela's thighs, she kissed the puddling of semen in Pam's navel, tracked the sparkling juice to the curve of her hip and then down to the center of the magic. As her lips touched the lightly abused labial gates, Morna threw a reproving look across Pam's body.
"She is bruised from that beautiful thing," she scolded Derek. "If she sees that or if there's any of your shoot inside when she wakes...." Worried eyebrows arched as she fingered whitish droplets of his semen at the cleft of Pam's cunt.
"Gosh ... Mommy ... please ... We have to do something!" He was in total erection as he crept round behind Morna and crouched to stare. "Let me kiss it first and...."
"And I'll do the rest," promised Morna, making room for her son to get at the slightly puffy slit.
His lips were untrained but tender at the cunt lips. He licked and strummed lightly to and fro over the dilated vulva and the sweetness of his affection drove Pamela to a quick shuddering orgasm, fists clenching and body writhing to the force of the emotion as she came. It was only the beginning.
"Let me!" Morna pushed Derek from his preoccupation and took over. "Remember, we're just doing it for her, not for ourselves."
That was a huge hypocrisy and they both knew it but Derek murmured agreement, rolling to the side to watch as the woman he no longer thought of as mother burrowed eagerly into the cunt slit.
Pamela knew the instant Morna's tongue touched her clit that it was girl to girl now. Where Derek's licking had an almost effeminate softness, Morna's probing was completely" different. Her tongue was cock-stiff inside Pam's vagina and she speared eagerly in and out, simulating coitus, demanding orgasm. And getting it!
A low throated moan of passion broke from Pam's lips as Morna drove her to climax.
Heavenly bittersweet wonder to the taste and it drove Morna to need more and more and more. It was the taste of male and female mingled and the animal sweetness of it whipped her wild. She was in the throes of orgasm when Derek's self control tore loose. The sight of both females, studies in abandoned sex frenzy, was too much.
He had both hands on Morna's hips and it wasn't till she had been twisted pretzel-like at the waist and he was astride her hips that Morna really understood his intentions. An overwhelming sensation tingled low through her body. Blunt hot knob of insistent flesh cramming through her vulva lips! Derek was already inside and plowing.
"Flesh of my flesh!" he hissed, immobilizing her against escape. "It's okay ... okay!"
It was very quiet.
They had left Pamela alone in the den after clothing her again in the polka dot bikini. A flood of after-sensations tore happily through her body as she reviewed what had happened.
The phone rang and jarred the silence.
"I'll be stuck in town until late, dear ... on your birthday, too." Arthur sounded down. "Go ahead and eat without me. I'll bring a present home about midnight. Do I need you!"
"So what else is new," she whispered, replacing the phone on its cradle. He would be home and even if he was too tired, he'd take her in the most demanding way. That she loved and also worried about. He'd remembered the birthday she'd been trying to forget all day. Thirty, even! It was revolting, no matter what the mirror said about looking years younger.
Arthur's doctor had warned against his overtired condition and insistence on sex when he was so shot from his work. She hated that. Energies Unlimited Inc. demanded much and paid well and let the wives have what was left. And with today her birthday, she had no doubt he would want to celebrate through whatever was left of the night when he got home. And she was so darned ready!
Images of the fantastic play with Derek and then with Morna streamed through her mind. She wasn't built to be a faithless wife, she knew. She loved Arthur's way of sex and simultaneously fretted that it could go too far for his health. It accounted for why she had so little guilt for her first infidelity, she told herself. Her playmates had so spent her sexually her need should be low. But it wasn't. By midnight she knew she would be wild for Arthur.
Her thoughts wandered across the lot separating the Pringles from the Londons. Very little separated them any more and she wondered how that could be controlled, now that the fires were lit. It was up to her.
As if some extra sensory perception had drawn her, a knock came at the kitchen door. A moment later Morna was inside and the two were talking over coffee and cigarettes, facing each other across the breakfast bar as if nothing at all had happened.
"You seem a little peaked, Pam. Sure you feel all right?" Morna was a great little mother, thought Pammy, and that was about the last way Pammy could think of . her.
"Funny you asked." Pamela turned her back to get the glass silex for refills.-"I think I passed out a bit ago. All I remember is Derek's coming with the groceries. He must have left and I just zonked it. I don't even remember making it to the den. You ever hear of such a thing?"
The beautiful redhead dropped her glance to reach for a raisin cookie. "Maybe it's your period. Sounds weird."
"My period it better not be. Arthur's coming home for a midnight birthday celebration and he's loaded for bear. He'd have a fit."
"Yours?"
Pam nodded, "Say no more. I'm forgetting it's here. Arthur won't."
Morna wagged her head disapprovingly. "Sex, sex, sex. I can't imagine what our world is coming to."
"More sex, I hope," giggled Pam, reaching impulsively for Morna's hand and squeezing affectionately. She wanted to tell her she knew and felt sneaky with the secret, but she didn't dare. Everything in good time, she decided.
"I had the strangest dream about sex," she said quietly. "It was all very illicit and all very beautiful."
"Tell me, tell me."
"I wouldn't dare. Not today, at least. I've got to think about it,, But you were in the dream and you were wild." She shivered happily. "Sometime when I have the nerve to tell you, I will."
It was Morna's impulse this time and their lips met in a brief, happy touch that could hardly be called a kiss. "I'm going to remind you till you do, dear heart. I think of you and Arthur doing it much." She smiled strangely. "Love to watch you two sometime."
A tremor tingled along Pam's spine. "Maybe we'll put on a show and charge admission."
"Goody!"
All seemed as it always had been, but all never could be-as it was before. A bemused Pammy, feeling pinpricks of expectancy, stirred one tiny envelope of Sweet 'n Low into her coffee.
CHAPTER TWO
It was well after midnight when the familiar crunch of the tires of Arthur's Lincoln ground the gravel of the drive, waking Pamela with a start.
Hurrying from the den into the kitchen, she snugged the sash of her shorty housecoat, and when Arthur charged into the house she was very housewifely at every point: from pinned-up hair to slippered feet. On purpose-to suppress the animal was the reason, she told herself. To bore Arthur to settle for nightcap and nightie-night without sex, in view of his exhaustion.
He tossed the briefcase on the breakfast nook bench and when he hugged her to his front she knew her dull costume hadn't worked. Arthur was rock-hard ready. And his eyes had a curiously triumphant look besides the look of lust.
"Tell me, baby, am I your favorite senior vice-president?" He squeezed tighter, rotating his lower body suggestively to let her feel his manpower.
The new title suddenly registered. "You were promoted to senior veep?" Her face was a study in disappointment. Now the pressure would be even worse.
"Senior V.P., baby doll! That's why I'm late. That and bringing home birthday surprises. You look like one hundred twenty thou a year is the kiss of death."
She squeezed feverishly and this time she was the one who ground brazenly against the cock pressing her pubes. Arthur wanted her. He would have her. She fingered the pins holding her hair set for the night and he smiled as a cascade of silver blonde hair spilled sexily across her shoulder.
"Congratulations," she said simply, knowing he had to hear her pleasure, whatever she really felt. "Thirty-five and Senior Vice President of Energies Unlimited." She sighed. "Maybe you'll make President by thirty-six and give all those junior execs knocking themselves out for the company orders to slow down."
"Know how you feel, hon. Honest." He dragged a roll of paper from his briefcase and dumped the gray suit coat carelessly over the chair arm. "Here's one surprise for your thirtieth, baby."
She stared as Arthur unrolled the floor plan pages, then looked puzzled at her husband. "It's a mansion! Whose is it?"
"Ours, sweetheart. Now, don't panic. You'll only be five miles from your friends. And you'll have lots more subject matter for your photography. Wait'll you see it! English manor style like you like. Fifteen rooms down in Sleepy Hollow."
Five years with Arthur had taught her it was fact accomplished. "When do we move?"
"Soon as the mover can come." He grinned. "And there's still surprise two. Hey, you don't even look a bit like thirty." He pecked happily at her cheek, ignoring her grimace at the reminder. "Now you're going to meet Ronald. This you're going to love!"
He strode to the door and beckoned to the Lincoln, then with a low flourish returned to stand at her side to wait for an arrival that seemed to take hours after the car door closed.
"You can't have a mansion in the country without decent security these days. Meet Ronald DeWitt. Ronald is your birthday present in the flesh to go with the brick and mortar. Your personal chauffeur and bodyguard."
"How do you do, Mrs. Pringle." The tall, darkly handsome DeWitt stepped shyly forward and extended his hand. "I hope you will be able to accept me as your protection when Mr. Pringle is away."
Pamela offered DeWitt her hand, but even as she returned the greeting, she shook her head disbelievingly. "You did all this in one day, Arthur? Got promoted, bought a new house and decided I needed Mr. DeWitt?"
"All in one day, dearest." He jerked open the fridge and pulled the pitcher Pamela had mixed just before dozing off. "Martinis. Perfect." He poured three glasses quickly, grinning at Pammy's protest that he was using eight ounce tumblers. "So, we celebrate! How often do I make Senior Veep, buy a manor and hire a bodyguard. Ronald! Your good health!" He saluted an awed, visibly uncertain DeWitt who looked at Pamela and waited for her to accept the martini before he drank.
At least he has manners, thought a totally confused Pamela. And this had obviously all been in the planning books for months. What timing! The day she first blew her faithfulness as a wife and had her appetite whetted for extramarital and lesbian play all at once, in walks this Adonis. Could some sixth sense have tipped Arthur that she had reached a breaking point with her absentee husband? Hardly!
She drank the tall martini quickly as she laid out the late supper, and then another as they ate. Listening to the men talk, feeling her head go lightly fuzzy, not really caring. It was all too much for anyone to be asked to absorb.
"You're from New York, Ronald?" she asked absently when the men grew silent suddenly and turned to watch her pour the coffee.
"Only for the last five years, Mrs. Pringle." He ran his fingers through rich dark hair, then adjusted his tie nervously. "I tried to make it in a couple of things that didn't pan out, so...."
"What Ronald's self consciousness is, I found him working as a bouncer in a lounge and he's not very proud of that. He's played pro ball, been a male model and he's a college grad, too."
"I'm proud to know you." Pammy was aware that her robe had drifted open to a wide decolletage, but if there was going to be a dress code with the new employee, she'd better check it out. "Why don't we get more relaxed for coffee in the den, Husband mine," She plucked Arthur's sleeve. " ... should tell me, is my chauffeur bodyguard a nice man...." Her words were slurring, she knew. "Mean to shayyy ... is' he, welll, you know ... hubbby mine...."
Arthur roared delightedly. "There you see it, Ronald. The one and only time, likely. Mrs. Pringle is slightly high and what she's asking is whether she'll be having problems from you behavior-wise. As you can see, she is a beautiful lady and has reason to wonder." He glanced meaningfully at the now very pronounced exposure of breast.
"Perhaps you should tell her, sir." Ronald flushed uncomfortably. "I respect her question and want her to have no fear."
"Ronald." He clapped an arm over the shoulder of the strangest-birthday present Pammy could imagine. "Show her the flesh, Ronald. Let's put her mind at ease right from the start."
"Say ... I...." DeWitt flushed and catching the executive order in Arthur's glance, fingered his tie. "Maybe she doesn't want ... you know...."
"I told you precisely what she wants. Now obey." Arthur turned from the man and clasped Pam's shoulders, staring deeply into her eyes. "Ronald is one of the strongest men I know, Pam. You should see him with weights. He's handsome as hell, and more's the pity. Ronald, you don't mind if I tell her flat out, do you?"
The bodyguard elect was already peeled down to his jockeys and his glance met Pamela's as he nodded. "What Mr. Pringle wishes to tell you is that I am strong and de-' voted to duty ... and completely safe to have around. You see, I am impotent."
Her fingers flew to her lips in surprise as he casually dropped the last cover, then straightened and turned in a slow circle for her inspection of his body. He was an incredible specimen of male perfection. Broad shoulders, powerful chest and narrow hips, beautifully masculine arms and legs.
Abruptly her stupefied inspection stumbled. He might well be impotent, but he had the most dramatic male cluster she ever had seen. It was just impossible to give it a fleeting glance. The dangle of his limp penis curled across the loaded testicles and flopped. Her guess was eight rubbery inches.
"Ronald," She looked him directly in the eye. " ... I don't know if I like what Arthur has done. Either in the house purchase or in taking you on. But my husband is usually right and I welcome you to our home. Arthur, where do you plan he will stay?"
Her husband chuckled gratefully and winked at the visible relief in his newest employee. "Thought over in the guest wing tonight, and he'll have the gatehouse on the Windamere property, once we move." He threw an arm around her waist and his hand traveled boldly up the front to fondle a breast. "And he's going to be seeing more and more what a maniac his boss is about his wife. So he better get used to it." Arthur grabbed the sash and started to yank it to spill open her nudity, but she read him loud and clear and darted from them into the kitchen.
"I'll make us all more nightcaps. And, Arthur ... please! .., some things I've got to have time to absorb."
"Take all the time you need, sweetheart."
Through the next martini was all the time it took for the cockeyed turn her world had taken to begin to look very attractive to her. If this was what Arthur wanted to wish on her, so be it. But not without a test of the claim to impotence here and now. So Arthur had his fun with mansions and bodyguards and dumb promotions. She'd have hers the way she liked best. Arthur was so proud of his Pamela property. She'd test Ronald. Just how much sex could he stand? Would he panic with what she had in mind? She hurried into the laundry room and found the polka dot nothing bikini where she had left it after Derek and his mother had gone.
"Wow! Now, there's my girl!" Arthur was at her side taking the freshened pitcher and stealing a kiss as he steered her back to the den.
"I don't think impotence is for shurtain...." she murmured in Arthur's ear as they embraced. "Let's test it."
"How?"
"Only one way. Our bed. Him watchin' us two makin' it."
"Marveloush! Ronald, leave your things right there." Arthur was beyond pain himself now. "We're goin' to tessh impotensh. Le's go to bed."
Without the slightest embarrassment, once he saw Pamela's inviting smile, Ronald followed them upstairs to the master bedroom. There Arthur, always in command, spelled it out to his new employee and for a few seconds Pamela wondered if he had lost his high from the martinis. He sounded cold sober as he stripped.
"This is the one and only time you'll be in this room, Ronald, or out at the master's bedroom at the new place. Tonight is free-for-all night to prove you won't bother my wife sexually. You know you won't; I've seen the medical report, so I know it, too. But she gets proof positive tonight. I want her to play with any part of you she wants, to try to excite you while I'm giving her what she needs. And this one time I want you working her as much as you can ... without embarrassing you, of course." He clapped an affectionate arm across DeWitt's bare shoulder. "Kiss her breasts or stroke anywhere you want, to prove you don't excite."
Ronald shrugged. "If you shayyyit, shirrr."
They tumbled naked across the bedspread, not bothering to open the crimson cover and Arthur lost no time in mounting a ready Pam. "Feel 'er 'ere, Ronall. Shumpin' elshhh!" His voice crackled as he guided Ron's hand to a thrusting breast, wild nippled from the excitement beating inside Pam.
An impotent bodyguard of such fantastic body proportions would be great fun to look at anyway. And he was safe. She moaned in happy orgasm almost the instant Arthur buried his cock fully, feeling the sweep of climax and feeling a secondary frenzy claim her even as her husband's semen flew. Burrowed at her breast and milking excitedly at the taut cone, sending frantic erotic shocks over the top of the feelings forced by Arthur, was an eager Ronald.
Her husband had demanded she check to satisfy herself of their new employee's impotence, hadn't he? Even as Arthur's ejaculation slowed, Pamela's fingers slid under Ronald's tummy and found the massive penis. Boldly she massaged the flaccid cock flesh to be sure there was no life to the claim to lost manpower.
Ronald's soft exclamation of surprise was lost. His lips were still busy at her breasts and her own gasp was muffled. Arthur was groaning happily at the end of his coming. But a startled Pam fingered more curiously at the supposedly powerless prick. A slight hint of stiffening could definitely be felt through baby-soft phallic flesh. Impotent Ronald clearly was mounting an erection!
Already Arthur was rejuvenating and his organ, still deep in Pamela's cunt, was steel again. "Feel him all over, babe!" Arthur's eyes were bleary red and his breath coming in short jabs. "Not every thirty-year-old gets her own private eunuch. Nothing there, right?"
"Right ... Arthur, sweet." Pam clutched snugly at his waist to keep him from beginning new copulation thrusts. "Nuff for now, Arthur. Let's sleep."
She was wide awake and completely sober, all at once fearful for her husband's health. "I'll show Ronald the guest room...."
"No way! You feel 'im up one more time and I'll give you one more present. Gotta be shatisfied." He pumped urgent, demanding jabs that drove her against the crimson bedspread. "Got thish preshent for you!"
Her fingers closed on the real surprise to her and obviously to a dumbstruck Ronald. His floppy, useless penis had stiffened to trembling turbulent iron flesh. Spreadeagled on his gut, the formidable shaft ramrodded in monumental indifference to all claims made that it was dead. If Derek had been a stud, Ronald was a human stallion!
Pamela let the curiosity take her. Fingers clamped on the outrageous erection worn by a surprised owner, she began to stroke. Hard to jerk it with his body crushing against her fist, but even the least pull was too much. His face lifted from her breast and there were tears of agonized ecstasy in his eyes. It was then Pam knew he hadn't been playing cute. For reasons only the desperation in his look could answer, she released her hold and gave herself over to her husband's love.
Wild demanding coupling! Surrendered to Arthur's determination to fuck her through the night, her golden, perfect thighs crept round Arthur's waist and scissored him tight to claim all his cock length prisoner. Ronald rolled to his side to stare at the wall and she could see his body trembling in lonely splendor as she copulated toward climax.
A bullish shriek broke from Arthur's lips and his discharge stormed into her cunt. Even as the semen spat, her husband began to wilt across her.
"Better call a night," he murmured. "Show Ron the bedroom, lesh he wantsh to slitay...."
Pamela grabbed her robe and slid from the bed, beckoning Ronald. "I think we should begin with Ronald in his own quarters, don't you, dear?"
An inarticulate mumble was the only answer as she drew the spread across the inert figure of her exhausted man. When she turned to leave the room, Ronald was bent, turned from her, trying awkwardly to drag on his jockey shorts.
"Come! Don't bother dressing." She grabbed his slacks and shoes and hurried from the room.
Ronald followed wordlessly and when she reached the door at the end of the hall that opened to the apartment above the garage, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. He was naked, beautiful, and fiercely embarrassed, clutching the bundle of his clothing in a wadded ball at his front. It was time to put the final coup to his claim to impotence.
Just beyond the door into the guest wing she pulled her robe sash and pirouetted lightly on her toes, letting the gown swirl wide.
He gaped at the devastating nude who had, from the instant he walked through the door of her home, electrified all the years of jellied powerlessness in his genitals. From his fourteenth year lie had been unable to erect. Now to the magic of this one particular female, he was total man.
And terrified!
Arthur Pringle had offered him a fabulous salary far beyond that of chauffeur or bodyguard. DeWitt had no doubt it was his sexless state that made him so valuable. Before his first paycheck, he was about to blow the opportunity. Twenty thousand a year down the tube! Pringle surely would have his own watch on his new employee.
She was striding directly to him, her cover thrown aside, silver blonde hair dancing maddeningly across a shoulder and partially over her tempestuous breasts.
"Let me have your things, Mr. DeWitt." She reached quickly to snatch the bundle covering his embarrassment and pulled. "Please bring all of you into your quarters."
As calmly as if she had seen such an organ before, Pam turned her back on the man, snapped, "Come!" when he hesitated and walked into the bedroom. Her mind was somersaulting. Ronald DeWitt had to have nearly twelve inches of desire-driven cock! His full testicles were loaded, ripe with a vast storehouse of semen long unused. Some miracle in her-had triggered the sleeping giant and there was no doubting the sheer desperation in the man. Or was that so? He wanted the job and all uncontrollably he was violently turned on by the very one who could keep him from it.
Pamela paused at the edge of a great white bear rug flung on the hearth of the apartment fireplace: Dropping his clothing to a chair, she turned slowly; going to her knees before him. Without a word she pinched the tip of the huge shaft with thumb and forefinger. A glistening drop of semen bubbled into view.
"Some impotent!" she whispered softly.
"I can't explain it." His voice was hopeless and dead. "I really am sorry. I didn't come ... under false ... I mean, I can't help myself with ... you...."
"Turn around very slowly, Mr. DeWitt."
He rotated unsteadily and gaped at the wide oval of her lips as he completed the circle to face her. The phallic cap was pushed snugly against her satiny pucker and an impudent tongue teased out to claim the shiny droplet.
"Ooohhh ... ooohhh, yesss!"
He stiffened to the incredible wonder of a woman's kiss on an organ of his body he thought fifteen years ago he had lost forever. Ron DeWitt was a throwback to his fourteenth year. Now as then a fabulously luscious girl was kneeling before his cock. She looked the same, exactly-platinum blonde hair tumbling over one eye, hiding her cute pug nose. Her carmine rich lips puckered to his swollen penis. Fully packed breasts with outspoken nipples cried out in want of love.
"Ooohhh ... yehhhss!" He rocked on the balls of his feet and gaped at the rigid washboard rippling of his bone hardness, then at Pamela's face. It wasn't Pamela! It was that looka-like of hers way back when. That was the reason for his reawakening to manhood. This was an exact replica of the female who had cost him fifteen years of sex.
He shuddered and his head swirled to the awful memory so mixed with fantastic fuck fun and the terrifying finale that had put him out of the sex world. But it hadn't! He was back! Or was he?
"Arthur put you up to this, didn't he?" Pamela cupped both palms to the sides of the prick shaft and let the newest suspicion capture her thoughts. "This was just his way of proving I could be an unfaithful wife with provocation. He didn't have to go to such lengths. I would have told him."
"Oh, God, no!" DeWitt stared in horror as her suspicion sank into his already stunned awareness. "That's not so."
She studied the believable horror in his expression and then glared at the brilliant crimson monstrosity crowning his erection. An organ that big and that ready just had to be in constant action: No way she could accept that till just now he was a long time non-man.
He watched her lovely arms drop to her sides and as she settled back, resting her cute buttocks on upturned heels, some uncontrollable need took him. His fist closed on the shank of the hard-on, near the root, and his fingers tightened. The corona ring darkened from crimson to a formidable near purple as the fist tourniquet squeezed. Slowly to and fro just beyond the tip of her nose the bludgeon length moved.
A transfixed Pamela watched in a near hypnotic trance, fascinated that Arthur's sneaky plant could keep his cool and if anything, grow harder in the face of impending disaster. The bulbous thunderhead inched closer as the pendulum swing of the prick widened. Entranced, she wondered how it would feel banging, slapping, stinging her cheeks like the baseball bat it was meant to be.
"Hit me!" she taunted, staring up across his chest into the most dismayed face she ever had seen. "Go ahead, sock me with it. I'd like that."
Splatt! Splatt! The horny brimming ripe penis, so long somnolent, so wild to fire its treasure, smacked erotic lightning through surprised cheeks.
Again!
And still again and now the momentum was quickening as a possessed Ronald let need commandeer all reason. "Good! Goody, wow!" The delighted cries of long-ago adolescence surged to his lips but Pamela never heard them. The organ whipping her with love strokes was being pumped at the same time by an eager fist. His powerful body, every magnificent muscle electrified to the masturbation, was the body of a Greek god.
"Yahhh ... ohhh, yahhh!" The orgasm scream burst from Ronald as a rampaging barrage of semen shot from the top of a long dead volcano. "Eeehhh ... ohh, godddh, godddh!"
Pamela never would forget the splendor of the man. Every beautifully carved line of his body froze in the paroxysm of his first ejaculation in fifteen years. Like some liberated statue, the sinewy, lithe-muscled Ronald arched deeply, head thrown far back, concaving at the waist till his Olympian body was an inverted U with that fantastic erection at the apex of the curve.
"Ohhh ... wow!" Pam flung her arms frantically around pressed-together thighs, fingers digging into the taut cheeks of his ass as she dragged him down. "I don't care! If this is what Arthur wants me to do, I'm going to love doing it!"
He seemed not to hear. Slowly, like some crumbling mountain of perfect male contouring, he wilted to the deep pile rug and lay panting on his back. The frenzied cock barrel had wilted slightly and bent like a great white banana back toward his navel. He lay breathing lightly, eyes closed, the fist that had whipped the hardened prick now limp, along the curve of the shaft.
Pamela studied the man she was sure Arthur had planted, then looked down her bespattered front. Shades of Derek's blast-off! To be doused with such a delicious flood yet a second time in the first such experience she'd had with male wastefulness.
"Love mister come," she cooed, folding over the muscled chest of the playmate Arthur had brought for her birthday. So her husband wanted to play cute and see how much temptation she could stand, did he? Scrooching onto her back, outstretched in sizzling display across a gawking Ronald, she writhed sensuously over the naked torso of the master's spy. Surely he must be that!
"Is he out there in the hall, Ronnie, baby?" Pammy twisted to glare at the half-opened apartment door and it seemed to confirm her suspicion. She was sure she had closed that door after them, but no, Ronald had been behind her. "Go ahead and look, damn you, Arthur! Did you see the size of your pigeon? He's a mile longer than you and he squirts a gallon! Look!"
Pamela, arching against the human mattress under her, caught sight of their bodies in the full mirror on the back of the hall door. Incredible spectacle of beautiful human forms in the grip of sexual awakening. "Oohh, Arthur, I love mister cum. 'Specially other men's on my body."
She fingered the streaky, slowly congealing drops of Ronald's discharge, rubbing them across crazed nipples and moaning to the tactile madness it stirred. "Look at me, Arthur," she whispered to the opened door, voice now wavering with the fierce impact of the feeling under her. Her playmate was trembling and perspiring from the force of the struggle going on inside himself. She misread it as simple male lust.
"He's not out there, Mrs. Prin-"
"Oh, shut up, Mr. DeWitt!" She wriggled across his front, twisting her head to glare into his eyes. "You'll hate this, but m love it. Your nasty ole cock is goin' to masturbate me from the outside. See, Arthur, I'm still your lovin' and faithful wife."
It was as if someone had snapped an elastic on his partially collapsed prick when she maneuvered across his stomach and spread her legs. Thickening cock flesh shot to quivering vertical love spear through the golden thighs of a delighted Pamela. She stared at the image of a female/male in the mirror.
"Always wanted to wear one of these," she murmured, cupping an open fist around the erection and pressing it snugly against her pussy cleft. "Oh, dear heaven, that is good!"
She manipulated the steely shaft in a deliberate deviling of her sensitive vulva, grinding the rod back against her crotch to put pressure on her clitoris. It scored instantly.
"Whah ... watch ... Arthur!" she gasped, crossing her legs at the knees and squeezing to put maximum pressure on the trapped phallus. "Your man Ronnie is going to make I'll Pamela commummmhhh!" Her body was a nude symphony of voluptuous female locked in weird masturbation frenzy.
Moaning and straining against the rigid penis, she rubbed it fiercely back and forth across the outside of her cunt, her climax going on and on to the tantalizing torture of her clit by the flesh spike.
"You devil!" Her face was turned to his and their lips were a breath apart. "That's proof you he about impotence. You should have shot all over the place before I came, if it's been so long."
Ronald seemed to have a composure totally lost by Pamela. He leaned to place his mouth against hers, then impertinently tongued through the softly parted lips. His boldness, now exposed, intrigued Pam and she tongue-dueled for seconds, wondering if Arthur was hard with envy in the hall.
"I had a trauma once," DeWitt tried. "I really am not a fake. And your playing yourself with it should prove it. I can't ejaculate while a girl plays with it."
Pammy giggled at the ridiculous pretense and squirmed slightly up his front, debating whether to roll over and put their bodies face to face. More to the distraction of her bastard husband this way.
"Watch, Arthur. This is what you want to see." She stretched for Ronald's violent love organ soaring between her thighs. "You want to know if I might commit adultery sometime? I might. I'm going to!"
She shifted her impudent tail higher on Ronald's middle and spread her gorgeously tapered thighs wide to let the action in their middle be clearly seen. Her fingertips pressed lightly to angle the cock crown into place against quivering labial lips.
"It's adultery, Arthur," she said softly to the silence in the hall. "I love it."
A gagging groan shot from DeWitt's lips as his inflated prick crown crammed tightly into the threshold of Pammy's vagina. It was his first coitus in what seemed forever to the man. Unbelievably maddening to be trapped under her fantastic form, her fingers forcing his prick into her body ... he doing nothing but letting it happen. His arms closed over hers and his hands found her breasts. Tenderly, with the feeling this was once and only once it could ever happen, Ronald began tp massage the animated boobs.
"Dear Godddhhh, Ronnie, babeeee! You're fucking me! You're fucking me right in front of my husband...."
That grim job-destroying, if not life-destroying, thought had no more power on DeWitt. His cock, hard and ready, was in a female vagina. He was copulating. Doing what more than a decade of no sex had said was all over for him.
"Awwwhhh ... take it!" He ground upward from the "deep pile, lifting her dazzling wantonness in a crescent-shaped drama of male and female in coitus. In the mirror he caught sight of his great white root disappearing into Pam's wide stretched quim lips. An impossible bull size! Wild hips contouring down to a prominent vee seemed wilder with each thrust of his cock. She was in writhing rapture to the jabbing demands of his long-starved organ.
They rocked together in the awkward, wonderful position of both bodies facing out and maximum stress on an already passion-maddened phallus. A whirlpool swirled through his head and Ronald felt the return of unhinged fuck madness and let himself go.
"Yeee! I ... I'm gonna ... going ... eee!" His pelvic thrusts were cunt-maddened frenzies and then the semen roared. Up the long column, out through the years, into the sweetest vagina any man ever felt. Grabbing his cock the cannonade of shooting semen went on and on and Pammy screeched runaway rapture.
Very, very slowly the crest subsided and the spasms deep inside were replaced with little rippling convulsions traveling across the fiat of Pam's tummy. His fingers drifted lightly across her midriff and rested on the quivering mons.
She unwound from the heights and rolled from his body to he beside him, staring into his face. "Know something?"
"What?" '
"I hope Arthur enjoyed watching, but I don't really care. I loved our doing it."
He hooked an arm under her head and propped to an elbow. "He's not out there. And he didn't put me up to anything."
Pam had had enough charade. She pushed unsteadily to her feet and stumbled into the darkened hall, flipping the switch as she left the bedroom. He heard her hurrying down the corridor.
Empty.
She moved quickly into the darkness beyond and Ronald lay listening to her call for Arthur. It was ten minutes before she returned. DeWitt was where she left him on his back on the deep pile.
She dropped to his side and clutched a diaphanous peek-a-boo negligee tight to her frame. Highlights of pink girl flesh beneath caught his eye and he felt new stirring.
"It's true, you know," he said. "You can believe whatever you want, but Mr. Pringle hired me on the certainty I am impotent from a childhood trauma. I have been in every compromising situation possible and whatever you may believe, I have never once been aroused since I was fourteen. Till now. You had to come mess up my chance for a great job."
"I'm sorry I've spoiled everything." She snipped the response, slowly beginning to believe he was exactly what he said. "Now, why don't we admit maybe you had just a wee bit of fun."
He shoved to an elbow and started to reach, then reconsidered. "Hey ... honest, I'm sorry. That was the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me. I'm a selfish clod. I just need the work real bad."
"You're for real, aren't you?" She watched the discouraged slump of his shoulders. "What ever happened to you to make you lose your potency back then? And how old are you now?"
"I'm twenty-nine."
"I hate you already." She smiled in spite of remembering her birthday. It was the first time he'd seen her smile. It was a lovely change. "So, tell me how it happened way back when and see if I can believe you."
Ronald was silent for moments and in the quiet his once formidable phallic assembly shrunk to the rubbery state she had first seen. He appeared lost in memory and the taste of the past was a mixed bag. With a sigh he looked a final time at her to see if she would let him off the hook of telling. She reached a hand to draw him to her side, but he flopped onto his back and caught his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
"You're going to really call me a liar, if I tell you."
"Try me." She squirmed prettily on the deep pile, chin propped between her palms, her torrid nudity for the time lost on DeWitt.
He sighed and took a deep breath. "Just remember, you asked for this...."
CHAPTER THREE
It was tough to be Ronald DeWitt, fourteen and a freshman hero at Danbury High. Maybe on the surface it didn't seem tough. Who else has his luck to be varsity squad in three sports his very first year? But he soon decided he wished he had pimples, was an ugly weakling and hated girls.
He didn't.
Girls drove him woolly from the time he discovered the difference and how much he liked the difference. That and the kind of athletics he was good in got him into all the trouble. He was on the weight-lifting team, the wrestling team and the swim squad.
Any sport that would build up musculature and make him at least appear a rugged man not to be messed with, was for him. He made two discoveries about himself around twelve that scared him. One, how he felt about girls and how to find kicks around them. And the other discovery, he was big in all dimensions but bigger than he should be in sex parts.
Down in the shower room he'd hear the cracks when guys didn't know he was nearby. "Hey, you see the way DeWitt is hung?"
"Man, beatin' his tom-tom must be his favorite sport!" No one hit him with direct accusations; just the looks and the snickers.
When he looked at himself in the mirror in swim trunks or gear for weightlifting or wrestling, it made real problems at first. Wonder he made the teams, he was so damned self-conscious about the way he bulged at the crotch. The wonderful one who changed him from self-conscious to very confident was Miss Svenson. Dantrelle Svenson, a transfer teacher in phys ed from Sweden, over for one year at Danbury High.
Pamela was the look-a-like to Miss Svenson. Ronald glanced over quickly at Pamela as he weighed one last time the sense of going on with the story. Large brown eyes watching his lips as he spoke, and nipples that were taut again, told him he had a rapt audience.
It was her fascination with his mouth that almost threw him off track with going on. Maybe she liked what his lips did up there on her boobies, though she hadn't seemed the least aware.
He forced his thoughts back to discovery day in Danbury High gym where he, a newcomer freshman, was alone with the transfer teacher from Sweden.
One test Miss Svenson had wanted all her gym students to master as they did in Sweden was the hand-over-hand rope climb. Every guy but Ronald DeWitt did it and for the best athlete in the class not to get more than ten feet off the floor was embarrassing. When he locked his legs for support on the rope, he always began to get an erection. Tingling sensations stole all his power and forced him to slide quickly down before it showed.
"Ronald, you must pass the test," chided Miss Svenson, who had been fascinated by the best in other sports having a problem she instantly understood. She had asked quietly that they meet at the gym after school so she could privately teach him the Swedish technique of climbing a rope. Whispered the request, so as not to embarrass him. He loved her whisper.
Now, fifteen years later, in his memory he still could see her clearly. In the empty gym she had rendezvoused with him in what she apologized might be too informal garb for American schoolmistresses. But the polka dot bikini, an exact duplicate of what Pamela had worn earlier in the night, was good for rope climbing, she explained.
With happy nonchalance and apparent unawareness of the impact her fantastic figure had on a fourteen-year-old, Miss Svenson pulled herself gracefully from floor to gym rafters, hand over hand up the rope.
When she came sliding lightly down the rope, bounced to the floor and waved airily to Ronald to do it, he felt a momentary surge of confidence. If a girl could do it, so could he. Right?
He darted to the rope in a running start and made almost twelve feet before he needed to use legs together with his arm pull. He was almost at twenty feet before erotic sensations filled his genitals with a million sexy pinpricks. His thighs gripped the rope frantically.
"Go, Ronald. Go!" called luscious Miss Svenson, standing directly below him to time the instant his hand grabbed the steel bar near the gym ceiling. "Your arms are enough! The secret is leverage. Use your legs, if you have to."
"Gotta use 'em!" he panted, determined the climb she had made so easily would not make a fool of him. He paused, gripping the rope with clenched fists and locked thighs. "Feels funny!" he panted.
"Let yourself forget everything but reaching the top!" She encouraged happily, seeing the swelling against his gym trunks advancing. "Go, Ronald. Up higher!"
Grappling furiously for a higher handhold, he released his legs, pulled desperately, then snugged his thighs to the rope again. "Gee! Feels weird!"
"Make believe you don't feel a thing. A strong boy like you can surely do what all Swedish boys do."
It was that needle that drove him past good sense. Summoning maximum effort and clawing at the climb rope with thighs tightening, he reached upward. It was just the pressure the swollen excitement in his trunks needed. Bursting past the elastic jock cover, a quivering, inflamed cock sprang into view. He felt it, refused to believe it and fought for a new handhold.
"Keep going! Keep going!" Her eyes were wide dark circles when he looked down. And there it was! Jutting grotesquely from his groin ... a bar of white flesh that didn't belong to the rest of him ... the barest, hardest erection he ever had mounted in his life!
She pretended not to see the offending organ. "Ronald, you must keep going! Whatever it takes."
One hand dove to try to shove the prick from sight under the edge of his trunks. Impossible! All he managed was to spring free the overloaded balls.
In a flurry of arms and clasping legs he forced himself upward. Impossible not to think of that luscious platinum blonde in the polka dotted bikini standing directly under him seeing everything. It made his blood pump even more feverishly to know he was on full display. Miss Svenson was looking at his cock. A charging raced through his loins, warning he had to stop or else.
"You're doing fine!" called Miss Svenson, her voice brittle with excitement. "Show me nothing can stop you from making the top!"
In a hopeless effort to obey, he tried and at the last instant, with the top bar only a foot away, he shrilled the warning...."Miss Svenson ... luh ... look outtt! Ohhhh!"
The ceiling overhead swam in a dizzying circle as the spontaneous combustion swept his body. Clinging like a drowning man to a raft, he held the rope and felt the ejaculation spray wildly ... out and down. Cascading in a warm light spray across Dantrelle Svenson's startled face, spattering her silver hair, her golden shoulders and her outspoken breasts.
Once seized by the orgasm there was no stopping his reflex coital humping. Hips thrusting forced the airborne erection to leap from his crotch like some animal apart. It was a first for the gym teacher. Never in Sweden or in her months in America had Dantrelle seen a boy climax to rope friction, though there had been near misses. She had made a private promise to herself ... when one hyper-sexed youth appeared who could explode to the rub of the rope, she would have to sample him.
The discharge barely slowed when a horribly embarrassed Ronald released his grip and shot down the rope in what was almost a free fall. It was his second bit of bad timing. The speed of descent and a well lubricated floor, soaked by his climax, sent him crashing out of control, head slamming the board and turning the lights out for Ronald.
A shocked Dantrelle went to her knees at his side. A strong pulse! Overwhelming relief! An unauthorized after-hours meeting with a student could return her to Sweden overnight. Her stare fixed on the formidable penis now as unconscious as Ronald, lying limp between his thighs. Half lifting, half pulling, she dragged him to her office at the side of the gym and tugged him onto the day cot in the little room.
When she returned from locking her door, she stripped his gym things one-handed while she toyed with his intriguingly disturbing sex parts with the other. A tiny sound in the room beyond caught only passing attention. The real action was at Ronald's groin. The floppy penis was stiffening!
Entranced by the recovery even when Ronald was still out of it, Dantrelle cupped the resurgent cock in a light grip, telling herself it was in the interest of his health only that she was so concerned about the odd behavior of his sexual organ. No one would contest it was rare to see what she had seen happen on the rope. Rarer still to see an unconscious man mount an erection. She owed it to Ronald to watch carefully.
His penis puffed and extended, then bent up and away, its shaft wobbling in her clasp, then stiffening to stand straight up through her fingers, ramrodding in arrogant pride.
The Swedish beauty had loved, and mostly controlled, cock frenzy over her from her twelfth year. At twenty-two she had elected an exchange year in America, mainly to play with American erections, wildly praised by her friend who had been over. With Dantrelle's years of everyday play with every variety of Swedish hard-on, she could hardly wait. Girl sex, boy sex, Whichever, she loved them all, but the American trip was designed for semen collection. In a very needy passion tunnel.
It had been a bummer. Dull Danbury High, with its funny codes they called professional behavior, made it clear the Swedish import would have no sex after school, no sex in school. If the watchful eyes of old maid schoolmarms warned anything, they warned of hate of pretty young things playing at teacher. But now she had her first American cock!
There was an instant of electrifying uncertainty for her as she weighed sense against madness. Almost six months since she took ship to America for the year of exchange. It had been utterly sexless. She bent to the ballooning oversized shaft and puckered, determined to allow herself only one quick kiss of the rod.
Warm, baby soft cover of white foreskin flesh. It was a never seen phenomenon in modern Sweden where infants always were circumcised. Again a scientific opportunity and she fingered the thin prepuce flesh, drawing it back slowly to expose a thick red crown. Taste the tender skin, her impulse dictated. Seldom would she see one again.
"Mmmmm!" Her tongue moved warmly and curiously along the wrinkled cover. Unheard by Dantrelle, an excited gasp sounded in the adjoining room.
Three of the prettiest girls of Danbury High had stolen into the back entry of the gym in hopes of finding the much idolized beauty from Sweden still at work with Ronald. One of the trio had heard her ask their hero to return after school to try to pass his test. A mixture of vixenish envy that the blonde bombshell' would have handsome Ronald to herself dared them to do the forbidden. A plastic card inserted in the old style lock and they were alone in the back recesses of the gym.
Quickly, from past excursions at boy watching, they found the way to the best viewing point. Before their shocked, enchanted eyes they saw Ronald's fantastic discharge on the rope, his crash ... and now this!
Barely able to contain themselves, Mandy, Tia and Ellen watched as gorgeous Miss Svenson kissed the naked wonder of Ronald's phallus. Squeezing each other excitedly and whispering urgent pleas for quiet, they peered through the tiny opening in the drape and saw Dantrelle's thirst. Sweet and gentle suck sounds reached them through the plywood partitioning.
Her lovely profile with its classic Nordic beauty highlighted by the light hair, the chiseled perfection of forehead and nose and chin, was hardly noticed by the intruding trio. All they saw was Miss Svenson's rich ruby mouth on the massive cap of their hero's madly aroused private parts. For months they had watched Ronald's genital bulge in athletic contests. Many whispered guesses. Now in one thrilling moment of disclosure, they knew all. And Miss Svenson had it all! It was gross and unfair for a foreigner to help herself to their property! But what could they do? They could only watch for now.
"You monster!" they heard Miss Svenson hiss in pretended disapproval. "I must do something about you!"
She bent boldly to the organ and her rich lips went wide. Savoring the satiny glans, Dantrelle slurped juicily, engulfing the crown and forcing the cute wrinkle of foreskin to curl weirdly at the corners of her pretty mouth.
"Ooohhh, it's awful!" whispered dark-haired, lovely, innocent Tia to her friends. "Is that fucking?"
Scornful hiss to silence from worldly Ellen. Like Tia she was a virgin, but she had read marriage manuals. "Of course not! But it's going to be."
An impatient Mandy, already at fourteen driven with nympho hungers after a night of learning all from six of the football team, gave an urgent shush for quiet. "It'll be nothing, if you don't shut up. Now be quiet. We're goin' to see lots."
They gawked at the outstretched, naked wonder of Ronald DeWitt. His splendidly proportioned body before had been the attraction, but now, stripped bare before them, he was all cock. The hugeness of his prick seemed to dominate the room. It even dominated Miss Svenson, now sucking more determinedly on the shaft, somehow taking not only the knob into her lips, but inches of white stiffened gristle.
Dantrelle was committed to total daring with Ronald. As she milked the indriven cock, her hand reached behind her shoulders and pulled the snap of her halter.
"He must be in her throat!" gasped Mandy, breaking her own demand for silence. "Ooooh! Look at those gorgeous tits!" Magnificent over-development of sunburst beauty from Sweden. Dark hardened nipples stood frantic at the tips of firm full globes. She leaned close to fellate him and the girls saw her squeeze her breasts into the valley of Ronald's thighs.
It was that that brought him to. The warmth of satiny boobs jammed against his inner thighs ... the whirlpooling of her saliva around his trapped prick. His eyes suddenly opened wide and terrified and stared down his front.
She felt him go rigid and knew he had regained consciousness. Knew too all he could see was the top of her head and feel the tight vise of her lips, the determined milking of his organ.
"Hey ... whaaa ... who?" His hands clamped the sides of her head and his body arched, spewing the glistening prick from her lips as he forced her face from between his legs. "Muh ... Miss Svennnss-"
"Shhhh!" she interrupted gently, her arm darting over his chest and her hand catching lightly behind his head at the nape of his neck to help him see all. "You had an accident. Now we have to help this very big problem."
An incredulous Ronald stared at the dazzling beauty of Dantrelle's face. Perhaps it was the light platinum that gave her the look of an angel, or the perplexity in those innocent brown eyes. Whatever, he was completely and suddenly captivated. Whatever she thought his big problem was, he was surrendered to her taking care of it.
Feeling his muscle tension relax, she straightened to a sitting position at the edge of the cot and for the first time he saw she was bare-breasted. "You see, we both have problems," she said quietly. "You have a very special phallus and you are lucky to have it. But it gives you big problems now. No?"
"You know it!" He watched her delicate fingers close around as much of the root as they could. "Why am I lucky? It's too big!"
"No, Ronald! Never too big! But when I saw it shoot off up on the rope, I knew you had a big problem."
She saw his stare fixed on her explosive breasts with the pointing cherries.
"Few boys can ejaculate by spontaneous combustion and usually they can hide it, but neither you nor I can."
"You?" He looked puzzled. "What do you mean, you?"
"I mean these awful things." She touched the tactile nipples and her head went far back to the instant sensation. Awestruck, Ronald could now only see a dramatic silken skinned ribcage topped by jutting boobs. At the pinnacle of each brazen globe a tortured cone stiffened more to her self play.
"Aww ... eehhh! Please go down!" moaned a possessed Dantrelle, dragging her fingers from her breasts by sheer self-will and driving her hands into the valley of her thighs. "They never quiet till someone helps them." She looked him unblinkingly in the eyes. "Will you?"
"How ... how...? I ain't new-"
"She's putting him on," whispered a shocked and envious Mandy, watching their gym teacher slither sensuously astride Ronald's calves. "She's going to ride his cock!"
"Here's how you help me and I help you, Ronald. We help each other." Miss Svenson startled both Ronald and the girls as she flattened across his squeezed together legs and jammed the tumultuous cock snugly between his tummy and her breasts. He could feel rigid nipples jabbing his tender stomach flesh.
But wildly incomprehensible was the fantastic hot tunnel her gorgeous globes made for his cock. Caught in the deep cleavage of firm satiny fullness, his prick was locked in an animated vise.
"That's how a girl's vagina feels, Ronald. Have you been in one before?"
"No! Not ever!"
"It's not for real but it will help us both. I push back and forth and you do whatever feels good."
An enchanted trio, almost unable to contain the excitement, watched the two pretty bodies begin a rocking that looked wonderful.
"Please, Ronald, push harder ... you feel very good to me," begged Miss Svenson. "You're about to discharge it again and when you do this time, I'm going to surprise you. Don't try to stop what I do."
"No way! Gee ... I ... I'm...." His body commandeered against further talking and the audience stopped breathing as the instant neared.
"Now, Ronald ... come!"
"Eeeehhh ... yehhhsss! Oh, yesss!" His back arched to the violence of his ejaculation and simultaneously Dantrelle pushed to her elbows to expose the spewing prick.
Then it happened.
In one fleeting glance the possessed teacher caught a tiny hint of curtain movement ... the suggestion of a hand on a breast in the darkness ... in the next room. Heart-stopping shock but not about to stop Dantrelle.
"Go, Ronald ... go!" She bent to the discharging prick and opened her lush lips wide over the prick, taking the barrage of semen deep in her throat. Then needing all, she propelled the spraying down into her mouth, not sucking, lest she drain the prick of its youthful iron. A sixth sense told her Ronald was going to need all the power his marvelous cock could produce.
Suddenly it was over and she looked across a fiercely unsurrendered hard-on and smiled hopelessly into Ronald's face. A light drool of his semen trickled slowly from a corner of her dark lips. She seemed not to notice.
"It did not work," she pouted. "Look at me. If anything, I'm worse."
She collected a dribble of semen from his cock crown and tongued it, groaning, "Soooo nice!" Her fingers rubbed warm sticky come against tantalized nipples and again her head went back, this time her long platinum reaching to his legs.
"Well have to do more," she whispered, wilting across his chest and clasping her arms around his neck. "Can you trust me?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Make you bigger." She whispered the words in his ear and a strangled sound of mingled disbelief and awe escaped him.
"Bigger?" he croaked.
Dantrelle, conscious she was now before an audience, was not to be stopped. If anything, that she was being observed drove her to total daring. Another glance under lowered lashes had given her a clear glimpse of her three favorites from gymnastics. Tia, Mandy and Ellen, a trio of deliciously contoured, impatient fourteen-year-olds who worshipped her grown-up status. They'd now see it at work and devil take the danger. Ronald's cock was worth it!
"Do you know why you shot off all this pretty juice up there on the rope?" She inched forward on his legs, her warm thighs snug against his own.
"I couldn't help it."
"Of course you couldn't. And may I tell you, you looked beautiful, like a sex god high above me, showing me your great power."
She edged close to his crotch and fingered through his thighs to heft loaded testicles into view. Inching closer yet she released the balls to let them sag against her pubic mound. The agonized erection stood stiffly.
"Tell me, does it feel good to you for your sex to touch my sex like this?"
"Wild!"
He gawked at the potent cluster of his manhood jammed in the meeting of their crotches. "I am too big!" he groaned. "Look at all that stuff!"
"Soon you'll love having it all," she said, caressing the curve of the glans. "But it shoots easily now because it is reaching for maturity. Maturity in size and in self-control."
"Can you help me?" His eyes pleaded. "You're different. You say what you think. Please tell me."
"I have to show you, not tell you." Her fist closed on his cock and she shifted to her knees to hover directly over his quivering frame. "Would you like to be really inside my body?"
"Awwwhhh, yesss!" A disbelieving Ronald saw his thick dark cap nudge tender pussy gates, then spread the yielding flesh and disappear into the snug port of her vagina. A whirlpool frenzy of clutching muscles clamped his prick crown, maddening the already sensitized glans and forcing Ronald's tail from the cot as he drove upward against her pussy trap.
The eager hugeness of the boy's organ was a welcome love spear deep in her vagina, lifting her with him as the cock crammed into the furnace-heated cunt. An astounded trio gawking openly from the window saw their gorgeous heroine from Sweden apparently taken by surprise. They stared at the stunning stop action in the next room.
Ronald, their favorite hunk of perfect muscle, was arched like a half-moon with most of his prettiest hunk deep between torrid Dantrelle's legs.
"Eeeehhh ... oohh, Ronald, no! NOOoooohhh! You'll kill me with it!"
"We've got to help her." Mandy's arms circled Ellen and Tia's waist at either side and squeezed her naive, overwhelmed friends. "She never expected him to do that much."
"Is he killing her?" Not really believing it, innocent Tia with an instinctive need for touching girls, fingered the snap of sandy-haired Ellen's bra. "Oh, she's so beautiful! She really does look like she's dying on him."
"Hurry, Tia!" Ellen was already dragging her cut-offs from her hips, following Mandy's suit.
Orgasm had seized both Dantrelle and Ronald simultaneously when his unexpectedly deep first thrust ramrodded far into her very ready vagina. The curvaceous cocklover from Sweden who had playmates from Goteborg to Stockholm, loved to delay her copulation climaxes. An untried boy with a mammoth organ had driven her to a crest on his very first thrust.
They were locked together where phallus joined vagina, but for paralyzing seconds they were as two separated figures in a Rodin carving. Ronald was dramatically arched against the cot, calves bent under his knees, head thrust back against the mattress as he strained upward. As his ejaculation charged and froze him rigid with its incredible paroxysm of rapture, every beautifully honed muscle seemed to marbleize.
And phallus-shocked Dantrelle was superlatively female on sizzling display. The ecstasy bent her backward from their coital point in an intriguing crescent. There, breasts jutting maddeningly, lovely arms out-flung and face turned skyward, she trembled almost motionless to the extreme force of her climax.
To the stunned onlookers it was an incredible tableau of life and death. If the peak of the simultaneous orgasms lasted only brief seconds, it seemed an eternity. Tia tore away Mandy's bra and reaching around her body, clamped feverish fingers on her best friend's boobs.
"Mandy, I can't stand it! Your nipples are wild and so are Ellen's and mine. But look at Miss Svenson's. Hers are 'bout to jump right off those gorgeous boobs."
"We have to help her!" Mandy caught Tia's hand from her breast and tugged open the door into Miss Svenson's office. "C'mon, Ellen, before it's too late!"
Raven -haired Mandrolina Diaz of the hot Spanish blood and the long night with half the football team, saw a golden opportunity. To tumble nude and ready into the misbehavior of Miss Svenson was perfect. Half-a-dozen times as she passed his house on her way home, Mandy had seen the curtains in Ronald's bedroom move. She had had no doubt he was masturbating behind them.
The other two, Ellen and Tia, who lived on the same street, had reported seeing the curtains move for their passing, too. Ronald baby, Mandy was sure, had very hot, feelings for all of them. For her two sweet virgin girl friends the chance to see close what had been jerked off in their honor was too much. Everything that could hap pen would be in the name of girlish innocence. They only wanted to help their wonderful Swedish friend who must really be in agony on the end of that fantabulous penis.
Climax mists swirled and deepened for both Ronald and Dantrelle, even as three sweetly succulent nudes dashed across the room to the cot. It was Dantrelle who saw them nearly fall over each other in excitement, stopping at the very edge of the love bed. A wonderful, wanton feel of having her proud, maddeningly female front on full display to the young set swept her. She was an exhibitionist at heart. She never loved copulation more than when being watched. With no sign of shock, just welcome in her eyes for the new arrivals, Dantrelle flung her arms toward the trio and they wilted to the sides of the bed to stare in fascination.
It was that overwhelming vision of beautiful faces staring into his that greeted Ronald's return from clouds of coming. Mandy Diaz! Ellen Terry! Tia Carmino! Here out of nowhere at the wildest moment of his life!
Each one of them separately passed his house going to their homes most every day. For more than a year he had played with himself over each whenever he was lucky enough to be home when they passed.
His incredulous stare caught the fact that they were bare shouldered, and, propping to his elbows, he saw all three were completely nude. Just as his dreams had imagined they would look, every one a beauty contest winner. Ellen, lithe bodied and tall, with perky breasts. Mandy with the wide hips and the jutting boobs whose nipples he noticed pointed upward even without a bra. Just as he had guessed.
And then Tia Carmino, the most voluptuous and the dumbest, if the rumors of her preference for girlfriends instead of boyfriends was true.
But the way she was staring at his crotch locked to Miss Svenson's right now, told him she liked at least one boy. Ronald was shocked beyond sense and reason. An incredible joy had racked and torn his body as the gorgeous woman still mounted on him took his final thrust. The completely possessing feeling of climax still had not left him.
He felt the four beautiful faces staring into his and he had courage to look directly at only one. Miss Svenson smiled calmly at the shock she saw in his expression. Her body, especially her vagina, was anything but calm. He felt tenderly clawing inner muscles deviling his subsiding erection. All at once the collapse was reversed and he was stiffening again. His shimmering penis, wet with their mutual excitement, had slithered mostly out of her vagina and now before four mind-blowing nudes he was going steel hard again.
Dantrelle saw her perfect chance to stay in America and not be shipped to Sweden by the next plane for misbehavior. "Girls!" she panted, turning a dazed, disbelieving look toward them. "We've got to help him. He's getting that way again! Just give me one promise ... please!" There was believable desperation in her voice.
"Anything, Miss Svenson. Is he raping you?" Tia's innocence was delicious.
"No." Their teacher squirmed against the burgeoning prick and the three gaped as she drove herself still farther onto what threatened to split her in two. "Promise! You will tell no one what you see here?"
"Promise!" chorused the awed trio.
"Promise you have discovered that I seduced Ronald, and you will let me teach you how."
"Ooohhh, please do!" moaned Ellen. "I've dreamed and dreamed he would be the first man to go into me."
"Me, too!" Tia shivered as she straightened at his side.
"Mean it?" he gagged, looking from one to the other. "You really want me to do it to you? All of you?" His glazed eyes tried to focus on Miss Svenson's. "And you mean you really seduced me?"
Her wiggling impatience on the end of his erection was her answer. Inside Dantrelle a way to survive the still lively danger of exposure was paramount. She cupped an arm around Mandy's shoulders. "Kiss him out of me so we can all play with it!"
Ellen and Tia gaped in fascination as their leader leaned to obey. They saw busy lips pucker to the side of the cock barrel and heard her low-throated moan of delight with the taste she found.
Smiling at Mandy's thirsty lips, Dantrelle relaxed her cunty vise on the indriven prick. Gleaming slick with mingled come flow, the phallus backed into view through the fiercely stretched labia.
"All of you!" whispered Ronald, captivated by the dream-come-true. "Please, all of you take turns. Suck me out of her!"
His plea froze the four in delighted stop action. He was vulnerable, desperately in need. That made it somehow reassuring for four hungry females staring at his much-loved cock.
"Truth time, Ronald." Mandy's face rose from her preoccupation. Her lips were pouting and wet from licking the sides of his shaft. "Haven't you been jerking off over us girls when we go by your house?"
A violent blush started at the base of his neck and shot across his face. He nodded painfully. "Every chance I get. I been standin' back of my drape, imaginin' you're just like you are now."
Dantrelle felt his cock begin to slack as he stumbled on in the admission. "Bet I've done it a hunnerd times over each one of you."
"And so?" demanded the irritated sexualist from Sweden. She hissed the order, "For that you show him what you do in your beds thinking of him!"
She pushed back to make a space on the cot between her and her playmate whose cock now drooped at half mast. She pointed angrily. "You never mock a man with such a marvelous desire. He has the right to know the truth now about your masturbation habits. Show him!"
Five could barely fit on the daybed in the gym office but somehow three chastened ones squeezed in between Dantrelle and Ronald.
"He doesn't want to see a silly thing like that!" whimpered Tia, whose crowded position put her right atop Ronald's wilted loins.
"I'd like to," he contradicted, confidence coming back with Dantrelle's defense. "Always wondered if girls had a way ... you know ... to help themselves."
"You shall see they certainly do!" hissed Dantrelle, glaring at Mandy who demanded Ronald's confession and forced his cock collapse. "All of you now! Do yourselves!"
Mandy's eyes were wet when she looked at her worshipped teacher. "I'm really sorry I made him tell. Let me tell him and you our favorite naughty thing."
"Tell?" Miss Svenson was unblinking coldness at the turn in what had been a fantastically exciting potential orgy. "Don't tell ... show!"
Mandy's hand drifted across Ellen's smooth hip, down to her pubes. A fingertip caressed the slit of the vulva. "We like best to do each other "and guess about Ronald's thing. I'd ... I'd like to show him our clitties going crazy over his penis."
"Let's!" Ellen caught Mandy's fingertips and drove them through her cunty cleft, then finger splayed it wide. "Does Ronald know what a clitoris looks like?"
Ronald shook his head sheepishly. "Don't even know what it does."
"It's our come trigger," murmured Ellen, twisting to let him see the Venus-flesh between her thighs. Ronald gawked as Mandy spread her fingers wide to open Ellen's labial gates wide for his inspection.
"Ellen has the biggest clitty of any of us," Mandy whispered to Dantrelle. "We'd love to do each other right out in front of him. Okay?"
"Makes it come out evener if you have four to play." Sternness was gone from the teacher's expression. Want was there. "One of you do me."
"Eeehhh ... look at his ... his penis!" squealed Tia, spreading her legs wide to Ellen's fingering and staring at Ronald's resurgent prick spearing underneath her.
It was a delicious moment of truth for Ron to watch the possessed quartet act out their self-love before him. Mandy splayed Ellen's cunt lips wide and Ellen spread Tia's still wider. Then Tia reached, moaning in rapture to finger tentatively through Dantrelle's come-soaked pussy.
"Ooohhh ... it makes me almost come just to feel her." Tia, emboldened by Dantrelle's pleased gasp, brazenly drove the outer lips apart to expose the taut pink clitoris standing proudly for inspection.
"And I get to masturbate Mandy," murmured Dantrelle.
It was a pageant of female self need and Ronald was totally enthralled by the busy fingers strumming and massaging the thresholds of four vaginas. Far more alluring than he had ever dared hope the female sex center could be, he fought the urge to throw himself across all four and kiss and lick madly at the passion pits.
"Do it!" he demanded, when the shock of their bold performance seemed to slow all four at once. "Love seein' you do it! The one who comes first gets to suck this for a prize."
He knew he would never forget the wonder of that moment in a thousand years. Every one of the four straining, struggling, gorgeous bodies was anxious to show off to him. He studied Mandy's black hair and thrusting boobs and then the prominent lithe bodied Ellen of the wide hips and the rich sensuous lips and hoped she might win, for he'd dreamed of her mouth on his cock often. And she did have the biggest clitty.
It was beautiful to see Tia fingering into the fantastic slit through which he had just fired off his first orgasm. Dark-haired Tia of the explosive breasts and the squirmy tail loved shoving her fingers into Miss Svenson's quim. He saw the dribble of his semen on her fingers and it sent his prick skyrocketing through Tia's legs.
"Lookee ... lookeee!" squealed Ellen, brazenly spreading Tia's cunt lips as the small one began to orgasm.
"See, Ronald, your pretty penis is right there ready to stick into her right now! Do it!"
Ellen caught his cock barrel saucily as she fingered Tia through screaming climax. No one saw it happen. Everyone was so engrossed in their own coming and in making their playmate come that Ellen's impudent shove of a perfectly placed cock crown was total surprise.
All at once it was driven into the moist demon-driven cunt cleft. He was fully planted in Tia! Least likely and least experienced of them all, but once possessed by the feel of prick instead of fingers, Tia was gone.
"Ooohhh ... it is to beautiful!"
All action stopped as the masturbators froze to the sight of Ronald and Tia locked in copulation. Whether it was because the girl had been at the height of her orgasm to Ellen's fingers or what, her diminutive size did nothing to block the invading phallus.
"Be careful!" The cry broke too late from Dantrelle's startled lips.
But careful was long gone from the chaos of Ronald's mind. He had done absolutely nothing to begin this mad caper with Miss Svenson but do what she asked ... meet her after school. He had done no luring of these luscious nuts who had been distracting him for years. AH at once he was locked to one of his wildest dreams.
He gaped at the magnetism of the meeting of their bodies. His horny formidably swollen cock shaft projected like a flesh spear from his groin into Tia's. Her virgin vagina, still too shocked by the initial sensation of man, was a tingling intrigue to Ronald. He had seen none of the merging of his body to Miss Svenson's. For a spellbound instant he simply gawked at his impaling of baby-soft cunt flesh with steel-hard prick.
The tender inexperience of a girl still without pubic down, with a body otherwise mature, was maddening excitement. It seemed all at once to have grabbed Tia's thoughts that this was her one and only first time. She tilted her head to look into Ronald's face, wanting to remember the man who took her innocence.
"Puh ... please," she faltered, sucking air breathlessly.
"What, Tia?" He braced for her to ask him to stop, almost wished she would. He knew he didn't want it to spoil sex for her because someone forced it on her before she was ready. And Ellen had given Tia no options. Just shoved the handy hard-on through her slit! He started to draw back. "No way, right?"
"Please ... don't ... leave ... me." Tia wriggled sensuously and without the first lesson in copulation forced more of the brimming hugeness into her vagina. "I want you to be the one."
Very quietly three spellbound onlookers slipped from the bed to leave the two room to find their own way. In measured cautious thrusting, Ronald impaled himself inch by fraction of an inch into trembling pussy tissue. It didn't seem one bit possible, but it happened. As she lay beneath him, arms and legs out-flung to let the miracle take her, he was sure he could lead her into womanhood wth no harm to her teeny vagina and no hurt to her niceness.
Her moans were building and strange spasms were clawing at his well buried shaft. He knew he could wait no longer. A deep volcano was rumbling and erotic lightning was stabbing at every erogenous corner of his body.
"Tia!" he gasped. "Gotta let it fly!" He felt the surge roaring from a million miles away deep in his loins. "Now, Tia. Now!"
Her climax was already whipping her cock-crazed frame with frenzied convulsion and the first burst of semen deep in her vagina brought a rapture-driven scream uncontrollably.
At that instant the door to the gym office burst open and three outraged fathers stormed at the pair on the daybed.
"Awwwgggeehhh!" Ronald DeWitt stumbled to his feet and fled the bedroom, leaving a surprised Pamela at the very height of involvement in the intercourse of a young girl.
She heard the sounds of his nausea in the bathroom, then racing shower water as he tried to conceal the sounds from Pam.
It was ten minutes before the bathroom door opened. He slipped sheepishly back into the bedroom. Pamela was clad in her negligee and bewildered about whether to ask or not to ask. He saved her the dilemma as he slumped across the bed and snugged the knot of the bath towel he had wrapped round his waist.
"They beat me real good," he said simply. "If you were a man, I could tell you what it felt they beat out of me, but all three of them got on me, once they'd pulled Tia away."
"You mean they hit you in the face and...." Pamela was driven to silence by the bleakness of his expression.
"Wish to God they had hit me there. One of 'em grabbed a leg and arm on one side and the other on the other, like they wanted to rip them off at the hinges. The other one, Tia's father, took the two by four to my groin."
"They actually hit you in your groin? Ronald! How awful!"
"Awful was what it was. Tia's old man kept screaming about sex maniac taking his daughter's honor. Then he pounded my sex parts till I was bleeding like a stuck pig."
"What stopped them?"
"Tia did." He sucked in his breath and shuddered, remembering. "I was so out of it I never saw it happen. But all at once there was this crazy awful scream and I felt this body slam across mine. I couldn't even see by this time and all I heard was the sounds."
"What did she do?"
"Bashed her father with a field hockey stick." He swallowed the sob badly. "Knocked him cold. I could hear her screamin' and never forgot ... 'beautiful, Ronald's beautiful!' ... and all I felt was dead weight on my gut and one great big numbness all through the rest of me.
"Anyway, about a month later they let me out of the hospital and said I was fit to go back to school. Who were they kidding? I was going to go any place in the world but back to Danbury High. So I took my muscles and what was for one big day a very busy penis and I just took out from Connecticut. Never been back." He drew a pained breath. "All because I couldn't climb a damned rope."
Pamela moved quietly around the bed to turn back the spread, then crept to his side. He stiffened when her fingers found the knot on the bath towel, but he let her open it. For quiet minutes she studied the rubbery dangle of his great penis and the puffy fullness of his balls. No sign at all of damage fifteen years later. Also no sign at all of the phallus awakening.
"I'm honored you told me," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead and urging him under the covers. "If I had anything to do with bringing him back to life after all this time."
Ronald let her tuck the blanket close to his chin and wondered when was the last time a woman had done that for him. "Thanks," he whispered. "I'm tired as the devil. And I gotta be out of a job, once Mr. Pringle hears what his wife does to me."
"He doesn't need to hear." She smiled at the startled look and stood to leave. "I have to tell you, Ronald DeWitt is just about the most wonderful birthday present I ever received. Please stay and help me keep our secret."
"Have to think about that," murmured a suddenly exhausted man.
CHAPTER FOUR
Pamela was alone in the environ mental cabana beside Windamere's indoor pool. It had everything, this Tudor mansion dear Arthur had given her. Everything but Arthur.
She squashed the cigarette into the tray and reminded herself for the tenth time this morning she was going to quit smoking. And quit coffee, too.
Exclaiming in impatience, she hurled the partially filled cup and saucer at the water and watched idly as they sank.
"Accident, Mrs. Pringle?" Ronald peered from the kitchen out onto the patio, caught sight of the curious brown spot in the clear water of the pool, then saw two pieces of china floating toward the bottom.
"No accident," she snipped. "I did it on purpose. I wanted to see what kind of underwater swimmer my bodyguard is."
He looked perplexed for a moment, then began to peel his tie. Ronald understood. The mistress of the mansion was mad at the world. Her absentee husband had been gone for most of the two weeks since the move from town to the Windamere estate. Her bodyguard had quietly entered the gatehouse apartment and quietly made a decision. Ronald wanted to keep the twenty thousand a year job. He wouldn't, if he continued the one night of wildness that had erupted with the one female in all the world he was asked to guard. She alone had the power to overwhelm his impotency. She held the key and knew a secret.
That first night together when he had come alive to sex again was shattering. It was out-of-this-world wonderful to be a man again and it was an ungodly disappointment to find within days it was only Pamela who could break the terrible freeze inside his loins.
Ronald was beyond trying to fathom it when, after a week of wild women from whores to bar pickups, he got no erection. There was something about this Pamela ... her similarity to Dantrelle Svenson ... or maybe just some chemistry between them....
But Pamela was Arthur Pringle's wife. She was dynamite. Highly sexed. Almost always in the scantiest cover possible. Visibly bothered by him and hardly concealing her want under the peek-a-boo halters which revealed constantly taut nipples whenever Ronald was around.
But she also respected his decision of no more play. She made no compromising requests. While Arthur himself directed Ronald to sleep at the manor on nights he was out of town, Pamela made no waves when he opted for the gatehouse. Arthur thought he'd hired a eunuch. The two of them knew different. What more rugged test of an employee's dependability could there be?
Her out-of-sorts mood was understandable, he thought, dropping his shoes and unbuckling his slacks. This was the least he could do to lighten her mood, if it amused her to make him her diving boy. Good chance, too, to show her the way it was going to be. Want her as he might, he couldn't have her and fifteen years of not having any woman had given him self control over frustration and now, damn it! for twenty thousand annually, control over temptation.
"Betcha can't bring cup and saucer up in one dive." She fingered another Doral from the pack, watching with poorly pretended nonchalance as he moved toward the pool edge. "If you think I can't, you must have seen them break." He felt the stirring deep in his groin and focused his attention on the water as she darted to his side.
"That, dear Ronald, is Lenox china. Can't break. Only the best for Mr. Pringle. Buy it and put it on the shelf. He I does that with everything, even his wives," she snipped, her glance catching the definite movement against his jock front.
"You're getting hard." She said it quietly, matter-of-factly, but inside she was-anything but calm. It was the first sign since their one play together that he had not retreated to the impotent state for her, as well as everyone.
The splash was his answer. She watched his powerfully muscled figure dive downward to the pool bottom, then swirl in a tight turn as he collected the cup and saucer. When he writhed away and continued underwater with the china, Pam sighed in surrender. He was determined to be withdrawn, even though, the opportunity seemed made to order. Arthur had gone off for Energies Unlimited to Africa. Though he was determined she should have a full staff at Windamere, there were no other employees yet. What she really needed was a staff. And that staff was just surfacing down at the deep end of the pool.
She knew she could command her bodyguard to make love to her. It would be hellish for him. It also would put him in a damned difficult spot, with his obvious conscientiousness. The only sex he seemed to forgive in himself was the spontaneous, if the one time was any sign.
"I'm here, Ronald," she called, scrambling across the ledge of the diving board. "Didn't you dive on your school swim team?"
Very carefully he deposited the cup and saucer on the end table, then straightened, facing her, his jockeys ballooning incongruously from the stiffened cock beneath. "Never like this. Show me your style."
"It needs help." At the end of the board she balanced in a precarious headstand, tilted too soon and flopped awkwardly into the water.
"That was terrible," he observed as she marched past him and stepped up the ledge for another try. "You're supposed to do a handstand, then spread your legs to their extremity, return them to point and then dive in. On you it would be a very pretty dive."
Ignoring his totally erected state under the elastic, she looked poutingly into his face. "Does your code of responsibility keep you from helping me get my balance for that? I'm terrible in a handstand."
He followed without responding as she stepped to the end of the board, bent to clasp the sides of the board and push gingerly to a handstand. From the weirdest of angles, she looked up at the tortured hard-on still jammed inside the snug jockey shorts, giving its owner massive discomfort.
For Ronald, it was not simple agony to endure the first public display of his heat for Pamela since that awakening moment. It was worth it to be in the presence of this one woman who had the magic to break his impotency and know she still had the magic. That he would have the self-control when Arthur Pringle returned was the reason he had to show the self-control now, he told himself. His job depended on it.
"Okay. So I'm your coach," he declared, feeling wonderful as he stood facing her upended, torrid chassis. He stepped close and caught her ankles to support her in the handstand and made an interesting observation. His spearing cock, barely under cover, pointed toward her navel. If he was naked.
"Now, very carefully," he said. "Lower to an elbow stand. I'll hold your legs."
She loved and hated his torture of them both but did as he asked. It was so transparent. He was positioning them crotch to crotch.
"You have to spread your legs carefully, lean a little toward me as you do." His hands were gentle as they slid quickly down her thighs to cup lightly at her hips. "Beautiful," he praised, stepping back when she had her balance. "Now, bring your legs together and thrust with your hands into a back flip. It's a very pretty display."
Pam went over in the flip and cut the water cleanly, wondering all the while how to get him out of those ridiculous shorts. Her fingers found the panty bow while she was surfacing and when she climbed from the water she was nude. "I think it would be even prettier this way. Don't you, Ronald?"
"There's no doubt at all." He started to step down from the board, but her hand was urgent on his wrist and her eyes said it all.
"You've got to help me again. I'm not that good yet. I dare you."
He stood near the step to the board as she crouched, then hefted to a headstand, teetering uncertainly. In one fleeting split second he drank in the nude fantasia of her dazzling body, tanned golden, long platinum hair spilling sexily, every straining curve on delectable display. His resolve faltered as he stepped forward at her squealing demand to support her ankles. The new position put her inviting mound just the right distance below his groin.
Sure Ronald had braced against temptation, Pam squeezed her eyes shut, determined to end the mismatch with this dive. It was as dumb a seduction attempt as any she had tried in the two weeks at Windamere and if it came closest to success, it hurt the most to fail.
Suddenly hot and hard, flush across her pussy cleft as she spread her thighs wide, a bar of man flesh announced its presence. Her eyes stayed shut, lest to open them would break the fantasy. An instant later she felt the firm knobby crown nudging her dilated cunt cleft and quickly jam its way inside. Deep inside.
Ronald fought a battle inside, even as he began to cram himself into the irresistible target. Her legs, widespread when he penetrated, now scissored his waist, and her heels dug into the small of his back, forcing him to close. It was then that she heard his deep-throated groan, warning he was already in trouble holding off orgasm.
"Yesss...." she moaned, helpless in the inverted position to return his urgent thrusts, feeling the electric quivering of a massive organ barely penetrating and ready to fire. The ejaculation was full and furious and for Pamela almost totally without feeling. When it was done, Ronald disengaged and lowered her gently to the board. Both knew it was a bad trip. Especially bad for Pam. It was dumb. Her heat was showing as bitch heat.
She decided to ignore its having happened.
"Ronald, there's a list of groceries on the kitchen counter. Call it into Quinlan's for me and tell them I want it delivered late this afternoon, would you please?"
"Yes, Mrs. Pringle."
Everything back in order and that was a goddamned lie, he thought, pulling on his clothing and watching her still prone on the board, even as he finished dressing. She was incredible allure and she was certain destruction. He stumbled off to do her bidding, determined to get his satisfaction by voyeuring, when she was unaware. Just as he had been doing since the move to Windamere. Lord, she drove him wild! At least he had something again.
Derek London loaded the last of the lined up grocery bags into the delivery truck and not till he was ready to slam the panel door closed did he see the name. "Pringle-Windamere Estate."
Fantastic! Since the unforgettable day when he made his last delivery, when she was still his next door neighbor, Derek had thought of little else but Pamela Pringle.
He had made love to her and she never had known. Whatever kooky games Morna/Mommy dreamed up around home, he could not shake the wonder of Mrs. Pringle. She had passed out just when he went in that first time. She never knew they had made it. If she did, he'd made a fat impression. No call for groceries at the store and no call to say hello at home. Even his mother was miffed.
He had seduced Morna that very morning, though it was hardly seduction. She came to his room to waken him and he was toying with his hard-on as he always did first thing in the morning. Funny, his self play really disturbed Morna/Mommy as something he should not do. Said it was wasteful to let his semen fly like that and he teased her she was archaic. Everyone who knows how it works in a man knows the more gism you use, the more you generate.
Morna sat on the edge of his bed in that pink peek-a-boo shorty negligee, stroking his messed up hair and slapping his hand away from fondling the erection under the sheet. It was the way she liked to do what seemed to make her happy and sad at the same time. The boobies under the see-through pink were wearing bull-seyes like he'd never seen on her. Her eyes glazed instantly when his hand crept boldly inside her negligee and found a nipple. She let him fondle first one, then the other, and then it was her hand that went under the sheet to find his cock.
They had it going hot and wild between them and it seemed much hotter to keep it sneaky and kind of shameful. Like this morning. Morna let his hand drift to her crotch while she stroked his cock with one hand and his hair with the other. When his fingers drifted round the curve of her sleek hip and tugged, she sighed a kind of shuddering sigh and tumbled beside him as he pulled aside the sheet. He fucked her really good and when they were done and trembling in each other's arms, she had chosen that second to tell him.
"You know, Derek, I promised your father I'd never tell you, but I've got to break that promise. You see, you are not really my son." She caught her breath at the tensing of his body. "You're like my own, but another woman bore you arid ... well, I can't have you seeing my need and thinking what you must think."
That had been a jolt. A disappointment, really, he decided. It made it so damned different to have thought all along he was having incest. But now the day was saved. He had a delivery of groceries to Mrs. Pringle. Would he dare take it up where he was sure she remembered last seeing him before she passed out?
Derek was ready. Was she? He never could remember being hornier. Was it the discovery that Morna had deceived him these years or was it that Mrs. Pringle had requested late day delivery, knowing he would come?
It was precisely on schedule. He pulled through the wide stone gates past the gatehouse and waved to the handsome dude watching by the edge of the road, wondering who that was, but not really caring.
She squealed happily when she heard his voice at the kitchen door and darted to welcome him.
"Let me carry them the rest of the way!" she exclaimed, taking the single bag from him. "I remember your last delivery hit the kitchen floor."
Bag on the comer, she spun toward him, arms outstretched, a vision of beauty, even in the formless smock. "And how is my favorite next door neighbor and delivery boy?"
He stepped into the offered embrace and it was all on the line. His bared erection was urgent and full under the apron and that was the way he wanted to dare it. The blunt cap jammed against her front and then diagonalled hard against her tummy as they hugged.
"Do you remember anything else about your last delivery, Mrs. Pringle?"
His eyes were daring and she met the look without blinking. "Maybe you had better refresh my memory."
They made urgent, demanding teenage-type love in the first bed they found. It wasn't the way it had been before. He had the air of a smartass with notions of property rights. When he was done-and it took three nonstop acts of copulation to soften his excitement-Pamela was ready to scream. The opposite of Ronald, but just as unsatisfactory for her own deep urgency for a man who could commandeer her body, fuck her out of her mind, even when the conditions were far from ideal, yet give her the feeling he'd dare everything for one wild romp with her.
Somehow she brought the play with Derek to a close and when he had gone, she was alone in the master bedroom and it all seemed so pointless. Everything in the world-and nothing! As she mulled the whole frustrating package, the telephone at her bedside rang.
"Mrs. Pringle, this is Ronald. There's a gentleman here from Mr. Pringle's office who has to see you. He says it's urgent."
"Send him right up."
Pamela dashed into a dress, feeling premonitions sweep as she hurried down the long staircase to the front door.
"I've got bad news, Mrs. Pringle. Your husband is dead."
Her caller caught her arm as she reeled before the news. It was all over just like that and she barely heard the details of where and how they didn't want to phone her the word since there was nothing she could do.
"Thank you for coming out. No, I don't need a thing, ni be all right."
But as the door closed and she was left alone in the vastness of Windamere, Pamela Pringle wasn't all right at all. A low, slow boiling rage welled deep inside. Energies Unlimited had killed him. Made him a Senior Vice President. Paid him handsomely. Let his ego take him from there and finally sent one of their paid lackeys around to tell his thirty-year-old widow how sorry they were!
The hell they were sorry! They already were picking Arthur's successor. He was a statistic.
It was the week after the services that she got around to the lawyer's office. Only because the attorney appealed to her to come review the will with him, since there were certain important stipulations.
Dan Gelbert was an annoying kind of attorney. He had that wandering hand and that look in his eye that told her he hoped she was not to be laid, even as he was commiserating about Arthur's untimely demise.
"What was it that was so important, Dan?" she asked, breaking free of his handshake and stepping away from the hand that rested casually on her hip as he gave her that sincerity look. "What's important any more?"
"The will, Pamela. As I said." He sighed as he dropped his two hundred and eighty pounds into the high-backed executive chair and looked across the glass top of his desk with that soulful bloodhound look. "Arthur had it drawn up just this last month before the Africa safari. Almost as if he knew it was his time to leave us."
"Perhaps he did know." Hard to be civil with that gaze constantly moving below her neck. If she really had emotional kick-backs to losing an absentee husband, Dan Gelbert would have torn it. As it was, he simply made himself appear the jackass.
"He left everything to you, but he asked that this very strange request be read to you, if he should die." Dan cleared his throat and adjusted the horn-rimmed glasses as he read the last paragraph of Arthur's bequest....
"Honey, I'm sorry I can't share you."
Gelbert frowned at the paper.
"Celibacy isn't too much to ask from you for twenty million."
A disbelieving Pamela sat listening as her late husband brazenly demanded of her....
"I want you to honor our love by having no sexual relations for the next twenty years. It's the least a husband who gave all to give you so much can ask. And sex is best at fifty anyway, if you still need it."
She listened numbly, almost hearing him laugh as he reported he had chosen Ronald for her bodyguard and since he had no sex life, Ronald would be her constant companion, always near to help her over the times when she might want to violate the trust.
Trust was just where the twenty million was. To be doled out at one million each anniversary date after Arthur's leaving.
Dan smiled sympathetically across his glasses at the expression he saw. "Arthur told me about Ronald, my dear. Now, if you wish to tell Arthur where to go, your late husband has directed that I, as executor, will pay you one million now and also sign Windamere over to you."
Pamela simply glared. Dan Gelbert was baiting her to blow her cool. It would be a neat nineteen million for the slob. It would be as simple as giving fat Dan the nod and she could have her cake and eat it. No way. She collected her purse and stood slowly.
"I understand. Ronald reports to you as executor, is that correct?"
"He has been instructed on his retention by Arthur, should what has happened occur, that if...." Dan cleared his throat nervously. "How do I say it delicately? If you are found in intercourse with a man, you will be cut off from the balance of your inheritance."
"Those were Arthur's instructions?"
"To the letter." Dan spread his hands sympathetically. "Of course, there are ways around...."
Without another look at the offensiveness across the desk, Pamela turned proudly on her heel and strode for the door. "Some things are worse than death, Dan," she tossed over her shoulder. "T don't think celibacy will be all that bad."
"Good luck, dear," he called after the fantastic rear view of carefully coiffed platinum, sassy ass and perfect legs. "Remember, Ronald will be watching."
That was precisely where she would start, thought Pamela, fighting the urge to turn and answer the final dig. Right now she had to be the quiet, resigned widow.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jeremy Daniels, President of Energies Unlimited, sat at luncheon in the intimate luxury of his inner office. Beside him in the candlelit alcove off the main executive suite was Mrs. Arthur Pringle.
"I find it a great restorer of energy to take a lazy noon break," he commented when Pamela admired the sensuous nightclub atmosphere he had created in the alcove. "Get my mind off business for an hour or two of soft light, a slow nap and away I go for the next six hour rat race."
Inwardly she shuddered. Jeremy was no older than Arthur. It was this man who was the whip, who kept all junior execs in fear of no promotion, or worse, dismissal from Energies Unlimited if they didn't serve Daniels with every waking hour.
He had begged her to come to his office to get Arthur's papers and personal effects and to have luncheon together. Pamela, with Ronald waiting in the outer office, could think of no one she needed to see less than Jeremy Daniels. To her, he was Arthur's executioner.
But as they sat together on a cream-soft leather love seat, Jeremy apologizing that the regular dining chairs were in reupholstery, she got a hunch. The President of Energies Unlimited was married to a beautiful wife. His self-imposed demands as president allowed him to see her no more than biweekly. She suppressed the venom on her tongue at his confession. It was the subtle pressure of his arm and his thigh as they sat close in the alcove intimacy that determined her to dare an experiment.
"It must be a very difficult thing for you to have so much drive and have to spend it all on the affairs of Energies Unlimited." Under the glass top dining table she could see a bulge crawling along Jeremy's pin-stripe trousers.
"It is," he admitted solemnly, sounding like Eric Sevareid opining on the fall of Dow Jones. "But I'm doing it for the men and their families, I tell myself. And for my family's future."
It was time to dare. "But what about your welfare now, Jeremy?"
Her hand dropped idly from the edge of the table and lay limp beside his leg. She didn't even know it was there, he thought. So close to his suddenly charging cock!
Jeremy Daniels knew he shouldn't, but he took her hand, patted it paternally and dropped it on his thigh. Here was the widow of less than a month of his good friend, Arthur. She was in his office on a mission of respect to her departed husband. She also was a very influential stockholder now; could almost have his job! Arthur Pringle had cleverly grabbed every asset he could while living. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw the startling decolletage. Arthur had left behind some fantastic assets!
Good God, if he could only adjust his underwear! The damned erection was creeping right beside her hand now.
"I want to see your lab and all the other things here when I come back," Pamela said nonchalantly. A tiny quivering warmth was nudging her fingers under the pinstripe. Sixth sense was in focus. Jeremy was ready!
She made the movement of her fingers seem unconscious as she talked. Her fingertips brushed across the broad pulsing knob and she felt the convulsive leap of the eager organ. Jeremy was trapped and vulnerable.
"I just love the study of energy myself, Jeremy." Her fingers moved with quiet purpose now. "It seems to me to be a terrible thing to waste."
He coughed and reached for the glass of sherry, apologizing, buying a last moment of control of the situation. The scene was clear to the organized Jeremy Daniels. A distraught young widow ... an accidental collision of her hand with his uncontrollable penis. But it wasn't an accident. He had put it there. For one split second he took his eye from the sherry glass.
"Oh, dear!" Pamela grabbed for her napkin to try to stop the wine spilling over the table edge. "It got on you, too!"
Good reason why Jeremy Daniels had made president of Energies Unlimited at age thirty-nine. He thought fast. Capitalized on disaster. He could turn defensive into offensive power and this, he decided, was a time to do just that.
"Your beautiful dress!" He stared at the wet streaks on her mourning black street dress with the non-mourning decolletage. "Is that black colorfast?"
Pamela sponged the last trickle from the table edge and wondered how to get back to the almost seduction of Jeremy. It had become an important impulse to possess him and the sherry had spoiled the start. "I think it's colorfast," she smiled at the odd question. "Why?"
"Never let it be said Energies Unlimited hasn't an answer." He reached to the panel closet directly behind their love seat and found the bottle. "Remember Energine, the old cleaning fluid? Used to put a bigger stain in place. Well, here is Energy Unlrmited's answer to old fashioned ways. Brush lightly with soft cloth over the affected part," he chuckled nervously as he read the directions on the Energesto Cleaning Fluid label and handed her his napkin.
"Wet the enclosed chamois with Energesto and rub over the stain. Presto-it will go!"
She was silent as she brushed the napkin over the bodice of her silk dress, letting him drink in her boob beauty while she looked down.
"Oh, I'd be afraid," she protested when he unscrewed the top and held the bottle of Energesto to her to take. "I'm such an unhandy person. I'll just make it worse and it's a new dress. You do it."
Jeremy was torn with the dilemma, but ready to dare. "If madam will allow me then," he dampened the tiny chamois. "I will demonstrate."
She had hoped he would. "Please do." She straightened on the soft leather seat, drawing back her shoulders and smoothing the area of her bodice where the sherry had spilled. Directly over her right breast!
He leaned to stroke the chamois over the dark silk covering the jutting boob and his hand visibly shook. He caught sight of his crotch through the glass top. of the table. Surely she saw what she felt just before the wine spilled. Now, rubbing the cleaner on the surface of her tantalizing mourning dress had driven him to totally crazed hard-on.
"See how? You rub the napkin lightly to remove the excess Energesto."
"You, Jeremy. Do it all. I'll only spoil it." Pamela was delighted she had worn the cutout bra under the mourning black. It was her secret rebellion against mourning a man who had run himself into the grave. Now the secret was out. A stiff point showed very visibly against the black silk satin.
It was a seducer's dream. She was ripe and very ready, even if she didn't know herself how ready she was. To Jeremy Daniels it was everything he could hope for. She never would permit total sexual intercourse and that was perfect. He didn't have the slightest desire to embarrass himself with one more teasing woman in the whole of his lifetime. Maude had mocked his tiny size and queer phallic construction and if he was odd to his wife, he would be worse to this sensationally stacked widow witch, Pamela Pringle.
For years the hectic career at Energies and his own private kicks with the opposite sex had kept Jeremy from Maude's bedroom taunts. He had his own way of finding fun, getting his own wild stimulation while making an other woman happy, then taking care of himself later with masturbation.
His hand paused at the top of the slope of the breast swelling and he looked intently across the dramatic curve of the black. He touched the point of the cherry very lightly. "I think something else needs help," he murmured. "It must be hard without him."
Pamela caught his hand as it covered the nipple and pressed it tight in welcome. Seconds later he was under the silk and caressing the naked cherry. Her head went back against the soft leather cushion and silver platinum hair tumbled low across her shoulders as he strummed and massaged both breasts.
"May I?"
She did nothing to stop him as his fingers found the zipper at the side. The silk slithered from her shoulder and he bent thirstily to the cutout, puckering to the fiercely tumid nipple, while he prowled under her shoulder blades for the bra snaps.
"Beautiful!" he praised when the bra fell away to bare the superb thrust of ivory globes with pink nearly transparent nipples. "May I touch them?"
He was ah artist with his tongue and Pamela felt the artistry hurrying her toward a surprising climax. No man ever had brought her on by kissing her breasts while doing nothing else. It was the nothing else that caught and kept her from coming. For some reason, Jeremy hadn't touched the real center of her longing. She'd make him. With consummate skill, she affected a shuddering arrest to his breast play, then wilted back against the cushion.
"Thank you," she breathed softly. "I feel so different around you, Jeremy. And after all these years of hating you for being the boss who made Arthur run."
"Have to run in this rat race," he grunted, needing a way to end their luncheon, to get off by himself while the feel of her breasts was still warm on his lips and fingertips.
"I've changed my mind," she said, grabbing the Energesto bottle from the table. "I want to try to fix those rotten wine marks on your pin-stripe pants. It'll ruin them."
"S'all right! Don't bother," protested a surprised Daniels.
"Jeremy, you are strange." She moistened the chamois and watched him squirm against the love seat, obviously wanting her not to. "You showed me how to use it. Now I get to practice on you."
No answer to that. He watched the delicate femininity of her hand clutching the tiny chamois brush across the long wet spot in the center of his gray pants. She was very gentle as she rubbed the Energesto lightly along the stained area, casually stroking the length of the bulge and on down toward his knee.
Very slowly it dawned on Jeremy he had simply added to his own torture. The Energesto cleaner had a mild astringent alcohol base, already sending crazy pinpricks through his underwear and into his privates. Bad enough to be bothered; now he was more than bothered. He was on fire!
"We're both of us strange," she murmured, feeling the barrel of his erection through the fabric and dropping the chamois to the floor. "I want to see what this awful swelling in here is all about." Her fingers found the fly and his hand covered hers in final desperation.
"Don't!" The appeal burst from his lips but she ignored it as she forced the zipper down under the hand that tried to prevent it
"Goodness me, Jeremy Daniels! You are in a state!"
"Strange, you said. Right? Well, that's why I keep it out of sight!" His face was fire-red with self disgust.
She stared at the curious construction of the rampaging erection. It was short and squabbish, its thick dark mushroom-shaped cap grotesque on the four-inch barrel. AH at once awareness stormed her. She knew! The President of Energies Unlimited was terribly ashamed of his unusual genital construction. He probably had always been the butt of teasing. That, if any of it was true, was an outrage to Pamela. Not because she was so desperately in want of real sex play, but because any man in any way excited by her was beautiful. He was paying her the finest compliment he could imagine and to mock his love tool was criminal.
"That is absolutely darling!" She shoved against the table and it slid lightly away from the love seat on smooth casters. He watched her squirm out of her mourning dress and saw with fascination that she wore the scantiest of underpanties.
A sorrowing widow had entered his office two hours earlier. Now a dazzling, wildly stacked, near nude was on her feet strolling purposefully to the opposite side of the alcove. It was a fantastic turn.
"I used to hear office gossip about this room. They tell me there's a button somewhere." Her female succulence was all he could see and he made no attempt to answer her. Momentarily ignoring him, she stood over against the walnut paneling, fingering the wall for the hidden bed button. Jeremy began to masturbate feverishly and openly.
"There! It's true!" Pamela danced aside as the wall bed spilled from its. flush mounting. "Jeremy Daniels, you stop that!" She flung herself at the foot of the love seat and grabbed his pumping arm. "I want you to use that precious thing in a better way for a very lonely lady." Her eyes stared calmly into his. "I am a lady, no matter what you think."
"I think only that about you."
He couldn't believe it was happening. Her fingers were sure and determined and her breath warm against his chest as she stripped open his shirt, then drew pants and shorts and socks from his body.
The move to the bed was not easy for Jeremy. All the protection of president of his company, even the protection of clothing was ripped away and he was naked before the woman. The first he had cared about impressing in a long time. Too late, he let himself be tumbled into the sheets and felt her first tight and insistent on the short barrel of his prick.
"Not much there. Damned inconspicuous, I'm afraid."
"Shhhh!" In sensuous, unplanned choreography, she writhed between his legs, both hands cupped to the fiercely erected phallus. It was short but electrifying in its intense need. The great cap which had been a brilliant crimson when she first exposed it, was purpling to a dark hue from the pumping blood. She stroked lightly to get the feel of his excitement
"The damned cleaner," groaned Jeremy, his shyness about size evaporating to the want he saw in Pam's eyes.
She loved it. "Stings crazy! Better pour some more wine on it to cool it!"
"I know a better way than that," she cooed, puckering to the glans and licking an agonized semen drop from the eyelet of the cock.
She licked juicily around the corona ring, bathing the crown and then the entire shaft in her warm saliva. A sweet balm seeped through Jeremy's loins to her slurping ministrations. He could see the feverish glint in her eyes as she coiled across his thighs and twisted her head to let him watch her suck and to give him full view of her nude and glorious front.
"Play with me while I keep on cooling your beautiful hard-on!" She drove a hand under her lace panties into the center of her opened thighs and her fingering left no doubt where she wanted the play.
It was out of this world maddening. A passion-driven Daniels slipped one, then two fingers through trembling cunt lips. Her mouth spread fully around the fat cone of his cock and her thighs trapped his fingers. Licking was no longer enough for the first woman ever to openly praise his prick. For fifteen years Maude had been saying the opposite. He watched the thirsty wonderful lips of the woman he had long envied as Arthur's property, now driven wild by his. The clasping heat of her cunt frenzy clamped on his indriven fingers and he knew he was wanted for more. He forced the moment of truth away.
His probing fingertips thrust deeper into her love pit and her answering passion was to milk and siphon furiously to get him to let go the ejaculation.
"Yahhhhh!" It surged up the column of steely cock, cannonading in a rain shower of semen into her throat.
A wild vision of woman glory outspread before his orgasm-blurring eyes. She was in climax herself, driven there by his gentle, wild fingers crazing her vagina as his own crest swept him. She was outspread female fantasia! Marvelous jutting breasts, thrusting away from her straining torso, wanting to be played with but for the moment unattended. Wide, writhing hips inflamed to urgent striving by the fingers, jammed into her cunt. But above all, that strikingly beautiful face upturned to his so he could see her thrill with the cock erupting between her lips.
Long seconds after he had stopped coming, she still was nursing the dark prick cap, murmuring indistinguishable sounds as she held it trapped in her mouth. Her eyes danced happily and she shook her head in protest when he tried to withdraw. Long platinum blonde hair curled across the action, almost obscuring her face and covering his cock in tantalizing sexy lightness.
It was a dream come true. A female was finally wild about his cock! He fingered the lovely silver hair and cautiously parted the long locks to expose just two things-his cock and her mouth. She knew what he wanted to watch and she puckered full, sensuous lips to new fellatio. All he could see was his club-like hard-on cramming into a carmine oval. Like copulation! He was fucking her face!
His hips moved irresistibly to the urgency her sucking created and as he stared at the sweet, spongy lips, spreading, clasping, pulling, it was like watching cunt lips clutching his erection.
"Oh, dear God! You must! You must!" She spewed the erection from her mouth. Dripping with saliva and the residue of his first ejaculation, it was harder than ever, trembling with want to be finished. But another oral finish was not for Pamela.
"Take me, damn it!" She writhed across his legs and over beside him on the bed. "You know what I need, Jeremy ... NOW!"
He flung himself across her, head swimming with the collision of her want with his hang-up. Years of steeling himself from Maude's mocking had driven him to find new ways to relieve the intensity of his want. One of the twists he had come to love with a secretary who taught it to him, was panty fucking. Her way to service the boss and be faithful to her hubby, she had told Jeremy quite practically.
Here in devastating blonde loveliness was Pamela's outrageously stacked nudity, his to possess any way he wanted. Suddenly he reverted to the kinky panty twist in him. Pam, still clad in the teeny black lace elastic, felt his fingers claw at the edge of her panties and pull. Tear them off, her passion begged, and for a second it seemed he would.
Then the hot swollen knob of his cock was jamming through the edge of elastic, shoving impudently across the flat plateau of her tummy ... caught under the snug panty band. Incredible! She wriggled to where she could see what he was doing and gaped in disbelief. Hovered atop her, weight supported on his palms, he was beginning to pump himself against the trap of the panties. Only the fat dark cap was caught and he thrust to and fro, grinding against the hungry vee beneath, sending desire shocks through to her vagina below, but no satisfaction.
His squeal of orgasm broke from his lips and she felt the warm spray of his coming drench her pubes. Then he was done. He thought!
When she felt his body start to shift, she knew it was Jeremy's personal notion of second best sex. Where he had learned to love that cop-out from real coitus could only be blamed on problems of real love at home. Somewhere he had learned to settle for alternatives to intercourse.
"Don't leave!" Her hands clung to his waist and he sagged against her.
"Take off my panties!" she hissed it as a command, not a plea.
"Look, I...." His face was bathed in perspiration and, impatient, she grabbed a corner of the black lace and shredded the thin material. Now both were naked, his undiminished cock against her vulva.
"Take me for real." She wormed her lower body against the thick bar of flesh. "I want that beautiful penis of yours inside me." She measured each syllable slowly, choreographing her pubic thrusts to the demand.
Jeremy Daniels was drawn into the palpitating cunt tunnel with no will of his own in the decision. There was a savage urgency as her pussy cleft closed on the cock crown. He literally screamed to the sensation whirlpooling around his trapped cap and his eyes were dilated with panic as he gaped down at Pamela's watching eyes.
She felt the agony-of a man nearly as desexed as Ronald by the burden of a miserable life. He had sublimated for so long, he was no longer sure he could perform the basic act. It was the shame and the terror of the most powerful man in Energies Unlimited that his own sex energies might be worse than limited. Pamela felt the fear.
Her sleekly turned thighs coiled in a shapely scissors around his hips and she urged herself against the barely inserted cock. "You don't know how wonderful!" She squirmed against the unmoving erection and felt it reflex and drive deeper. "It is an absolutely perfect size, Jeremy. I know we shouldn't, but I ... I have to have it!"
He saw the passion in her expression and the moisture at the corners of her eyes. She was widow in want. Even with a fortune, she was starving-for him! For what he had that was different. Be damned to size and shape, he was driving Pamela Pringle fuck crazy out of her skull!
Their bodies molded together on the bed and for the first time in forever, he felt the spasms of a vagina whipped with orgasm. A predatory kind of clasping of the cunt walls claiming all he had for her tunnel of passion, wanting to take everything he had and devour it in the rapture writhing of end-on-end climaxing. She was unhinged female, wriggling on the tip of his pin and Daniels loved it. His whole being was on fire for her and the cry of exultation broke hoarsely from his lips as his ejaculation flew.
In the office just beyond the executive suite, Janice Moore heard the distant sound, paused at her typewriter and glanced surreptitiously at the waiting Ronald. She tried to focus again on the letter she was composing.
"Dear Mr. Daniels:
I am afraid I must tender my resignation because of my husband's work...."
She heard the faraway cry again and a tremor traveled down her spine. That was a man in orgasm! It could only be HIM! For three years of daily seduction effort Mrs. Andrew Moore had tried to get Jeremy Daniels past his panty hang-up. It took her two years before that to lure him out into the open from sneak frigging at his desk While she took dictation.
A flood of images flooded her thoughts. The sex play between them had been building beautifully, till Jeremy suddenly leveled off at the game of panty fucking from behind. He was always so damned self-conscious about his organ size. Wouldn't believe Janice loved it.
Six months of almost daily ejaculations across her buttocks and no satisfaction for her had finally torn it with Janice. Husband Andrew was dull; she'd need a new boss and a much more daring one than Jeremy Daniel.
... then this unexpected cry of rapture from his office....
How did that beautiful widow of the dead Senior Veep Pringle manage to seduce Jeremy in one hour?
And what were they doing that made him cry out? Not once, but twice! To be heard, even only barely, but through soundproof walls, was unthinkable. Mr. Careful-in-Command never let go such a sound, except ejaculating over Janice!
She took her compact from her desk and touched up casually, studying the waiting Ron in the tiny mirror. Safe. He was reading.
As if on a mission, she strode into the small file room separating her from Jeremy's office. Years of office eavesdropping had made it no problem to hear or to see all when Jeremy was entertaining some VIP she was attracted to.
Ronald DeWitt watched the provocatively clad personal secretary to the company president disappear from sight. Buried in pretend preoccupation with a business weekly, he had missed nothing. The lovely "hair, the breasts, the legs ... the cute flip of miniskirt as she strutted from file cabinet to typing desk to coffee corner to bring him a cup. Mentally it was a sizzling turn on. But all he got physically was that same bubbling in the loins he'd been getting ever since Pamela Pringle had set him free of years of impotence. But the arousal to hard was still only that around Pamela and what good was that?
He sighed and tossed the magazine on the coffee table, wondering about the sound that had come from the recesses of Daniel's office. Ridiculous, but it had sounded like, a guy getting it off. No way. Not with Pamela alone in there and knowing the rules of the game for the twenty million. One slip and she blew it and that was her fortune and his job.
Ronald wondered if that fat bastard Gelbert, the lawyer-executor of the Pringle estate, had him under surveillance to be sure he was as sexless as Arthur Pringle said. Every likelihood he'd do just that, but what any spy on Mrs. Pringle's overseer would see would be nothing. Ronald was determined.
It was fifteen minutes and about five incoming rings on the secretary's phone before Ronald's curiosity about the long absence of Janice from her desk got too much to stand. He knew little about office procedure, but someone ought to be covering the boss's incoming calls. A visitor stuck his head in the door, looked quizzically at the emoty reception desk chair, glanced at Ronald, shrugged and left. Apparently it was normal for Janice to be away from her desk much of the time. But why had she been gone so long in the direction of the room where President Jeremy Daniels had escorted Pamela Pringle?
"No phone calls," he had said sternly to Janice as he guided Mrs. Pringle in ahead of him. That meant he hadn't wanted to be disturbed, yet the secretary, without a summons from him, had headed that way. Ronald strolled casually toward the ancient walnut door and cased the antique lock device. Perfect. Ultramodern Energies Unlimited had a very old-fashioned keyhole.
Throwing a nervous glance toward the closed hall door, he knelt at the tiny viewing point.
There in the semi-darkness of the separator room, Janice Moore was stripping her clothes. An electrified Ronald heard her murmuring breathlessly as she snatched away her blouse and bra, then tugged the zipper on her mini.
Janice was in total shock! When she opened the inner door a listening crack, that telltale gagging outcry burst at her from back in the alcove.
Janice could tell how heavy was his ejaculation, just from the shrillness of his orgasm cry. In her desk day diary she had XXed the days he had shot in some form over her-into her panties ... into her hand ... into her mouth, as long as she turned out the lights in the executive suite. God, he was so stupid about his organ! She had tallied over a thousand climaxes. Never one honest act of intercourse.
It had been the final straw yesterday. After years of building him toward a normal illicit office relation, he had reverted. There he sat, calmly dictating morning correspondence, playing with himself behind the manila folder. Actually wanting her to be patient while he masturbated in front of her. She had seen his coat sleeve moving when she raised her eyes slightly from the steno pad.
Good little secretaries never look the boss in the eye while he dictates ... disturbs his train of thought, her secretarial school had taught her. It disturbed Jeremy's sneak jerk-offs, she also had early learned. But not yesterday.
"Let me watch," she had murmured without raising her eyes. Seeing a man masturbate always thrilled her.
But his fist slammed the leather desk top. "I do the watching! Put it up where I can see what's driving me woolly." Kinky true to fashion, the man who could have fucked Janice from nine-to-five every day and been safe doing it preferred more self-play.
He had arranged her on her back across the leather desk top, not disturbing a hair nor a thread, just turning back the hem of her mini to expose her flesh-colored bikini panties. Those maddened him.
Then, while she wrestled with the stupidity of taking shorthand while stretched across his desk, he stood at her hip, actually dictating while he masturbated. Even a peek at his cock being hand-pumped would have helped, but she had long ago learned that peeking was forbidden.
He tried to make it up, once his semen had splattered the back of her steno pad. Pulled her panties down and inserted his cock snug against her ass to give her another of his simulated fucks. To think she actually had taught him that kink! She had believed it was a step away from fucking and almost impossible to do without going on to actual copulation. But Jeremy had managed and would go on managing-himself. That was why the letter of resignation.
Till this!
There on his alcove bed where Janice herself never had been in three years of halfway sex, lay the gorgeous platinum witch. A stunned Janice gaped at the sizzling nudity. Mrs. Arthur Pringle! So recently widowed her cunt was still likely twitching with the last screwing her late hubby had given her, she was in actual intercourse with Jeremy.
Head spinning lightly in total disbelief that what she had tried and failed to do in three years had been carried off in a few minutes by an oversexed widow, she stared at the point of the joining of cock to quim, lips stretching in a wide oval to accommodate the grotesque phallus. Janice loved that weird short, thick barrel ... and another female had it.
"You're a very super lover, Jeremy," Janice heard Pamela say. "I don't think I can let your wife or that sexpot out front, or whoever taught you panty tricks, near you again."
"Baby, I'm converted!" panted Jeremy, thrusting toward yet a third orgasm mounting. "You pegged her. Cute ass, hasn't she, that Janice? Yours wipes out the competition."
It was that last that tore it with Janice. She began to strip away her clothing. After three loyal stupid years, she was coming up the heavy. Beyond the door she could hear the happy sounds of a boss who wouldn't go all the way with her, gorging himself in a sorrowing widow. Rage out of control, she flung open the door and raced for the pair locked in copulating oblivion. Brunette hair flying in disarray, slim body taut with feline rage, she launched herself at Jeremy, hands clawing his shoulders. In two savage swipes she scored his back with her nails before he could react.
"Whhhaa!" He squirmed furiously for escape, withdrawing from Pamela's convulsing form and falling to the bedside just as Ronald DeWitt looked in on the chaotic scene. The secretary's attack had come at the height of Pamela's orgasm. Locked in an ecstasy frenzy, she failed at first even to sense the intrusion of a third party on the scene.
Before reason returned to Pamela's joyful world, Janice was all over her front, wanting revenge for an act she had been three years cultivating. She crushed nude across the succulent curves of the blonde temptress, grabbing for the perfect targets. Pamela's magnificent breasts were straining explosively from her spasm-driven body. Hard-nippled and urgent, they appeared ready to leap for the heavens. In simple fury Janice clutched the thrusting glories and felt the jungle urge to rip the rich globes from their fabulous mounting.
Jeremy Daniels gawked in frozen horror, the cry stuck in his throat at the kill look in his secretary's eyes.
At the door a dumbstruck Ronald DeWitt stared at the fantastic sight of the two outrageously curvaceous females tensed in battle fury. How did Pamela come to be naked on this bed, the trigger for the beauteous secretary's outrage? Would she dare all her fortune for a dumb, hurried fuck? It was beyond all comprehension, but not nearly so unbelievable as the state to which his penis had charged at the sight of Pamela's nude wonder threatened.
For all her danger, the fact she was willing to risk all for one act of copulation had driven Ronald to total erection. It was chaos inside his head. He ought to rescue Pamela, but it could cost her everything if she admitted an act of intercourse. From his proximity he could see Jeremy Daniels' prick upraised insolently between his legs as he lay at the foot of the bed. The visible glisten was proof and Ron didn't want to hear the truth.
An all possessing lust charged Ron's loins at the sight of his beloved boss in sexual crisis. There in extreme danger, Pamela was clearly unafraid. She was perhaps "hear death. She didn't care.
All the gut feeling he had had about her from the first welled up and centered in his mind and in his penis. She was first of all a lady. A very, very highly sexed female, but still a lady. Pamela Pringle loved cock, but she could never make her appetite a dirty thing. It was a fantastically provoking discovery to dumbfounded Ronald ... and it made his fist close around his turbulent erection and begin a steady stroke at the new drama unfolding.
Pamela's eyes darted across the buttermilk beauty of Janice Moore. Her dark hair, her angry eyes, her sweet feminine fragility were all so vulnerable. Even though it was Janice whose long fingers were still tight on Pamela's breasts, there was something infinitely desirable about this girl who could kill her.
"Please." Pamela's eyes looked deeply into Janice's outrage and saw the hurt. "May I touch you? You are exquisite."
The total absence of fear or guilt in Pamela's face wilted Janice's attack. With a sob of frustration, desperation, she wilted across the curvaceous front and a watching Ronald felt a surging volcano in his loins at the sight. Dazzling spectacle of pressed together nudes, each needing the touch of the other and each an intriguing voluptuary.
Fighting the want to race from behind the concealing room divider, Ronald masturbated feverishly at the maddening eroticism of girl to girl.
"What ... are ... you ... dooo...." Her words faltered.
"Loving you," answered Pamela, rolling Janice to her back to he supine and surrender beneath an impassioned blonde. It was a feeling Pamela had remembered from Morna's surprise show of lesbian desires. Since then Pammy had thought often of it. It was a natural part of living when two, of the same sex felt a common need. This was her time to find out and who cared if Jeremy saw?
She was more concerned about the sight beyond the room divider that caught her eye. Ronald DeWitt had stolen into the room and just as she looked, he had been seized in handmade orgasm. For a delicious fractured instant she looked right across the room and watched him ejaculate. Wild spray of sparkling love! She knew a new turning point was nearing.
"What are you doing?" pleaded Janice in a near whisper as Pam leaned to a turgid nipple. An aroused secretary wondered at the innocence of that act and the delicious feel of soft lips on her eager breasts.
"I'm loving you," Pam twisted across her trembling middle to kiss a love path from Janice's navel to her labial cleft.
With maddening seductive slowness she licked sensuously to the center of the dark passion cleft and kissed tentatively at the quivering cunt slit. "I must," she murmured. It was that simple and that decided.
A warm earthiness sent a shiver of visible excitement through Pamela's frame as she tongued carefully into the darkness of the vagina. It was all she had imagined and more.
"Ooohhh ... you're ... you're making me ... AHHH!" Janice's lower body strained savagely as the flesh dart spearing against her ready clitoris forced her orgasm. She saw Jeremy's fascinated stare over Pamela's shoulder and there was a new look there. In total surrender she let herself be taken by the frenzy deep in her vagina and seconds later she was climaxing again and again, making no effort to hold it back.
When Janice first flung herself across the bed, clawing at his back and throwing herself at Pamela, Jeremy Daniels saw his career on disaster brink. The whole house of sticks of his presidency, so fragile, so controlled by the digestive tracks of stockholders and the progress of Energies Unlimited research ... all teetering on these two passionate girls. Either could destroy him. Janice by taking the word to his wife Maude ... or Pamela by exercising her power as a twenty-one percent stockholder.
It was as he watched the cute tongue of the owner of the powerblock of stock snake into Janice's pussy that Jeremy decided. Pamela was a threat, but not to be compared with Janice. He had Janice five days a week and he had used her inflaming body for his own selfish interests. Never dared copulation, for fear of her mocking as his wife did. He'd only followed routes that were safe and dark and stolen. Till now. Watching her frenzy to the oral love of another female, Jeremy all at once knew how much Janice must hunger for real turn-on from him.
He was cuddled close to the action between the girls, one arm across Pamela's hip, the other probing Janice's inner thigh, when Pam squealed mock warning.
"Jan, there's a man trying to get at your behind." Pamela found the bold erection and propelled it into view, forcing Jeremy to writhe to her tugging, if he wanted to keep his only cock. "Isn't it gorgeous?"
"I've been telling him that," snipped Janice, feeling the welling of jealousy at the bold handling of Jeremy's prick. "Least he believes you and does something about it."
"Been good reason why I haven't with us." Jeremy was committed all or nothing as he slid atop the sinuous nudity of his secretary. "I've been waiting for an audience."
"You lie," whispered Janice. "You've been shy."
"No more!" rasped Jeremy. "Let me in you, kooky one!"
They were locked together and lost in new found coitus in seconds. Pam watched in a mingling of awe and envy at the intensity of their copulation. Driven by the need and the impulse, she beckoned frantically to Ronald behind the room divider.
He came slowly, but the urgency of her wave gave him no choice. If she wanted him, there was no option but to come. His cock swayed in an awkward side-to-side pendulum, jutting incongruously from his black slacks as he walked toward her. At the last instant he started to jam it into his fly and her outcry stopped him.
"Ronald, hurry!"
Her cry froze the action of the two on the bed and both squirmed to stare as Pamela Pringle's bodyguard dropped to her side. They saw her passionate expression as she hovered over the soaring cock and when Daniel saw the outrageous over-development of the organ, he felt a weird tweak of pride. This beautiful woman, who obviously was intimate with her stud of an employee, also had been wild for Jeremy Daniels' prick. It was a wonderful discovery. She really meant it. His diminutive hard-on was as maddening to her as a stallion's.
Neither Janice nor Jeremy saw Pam's fellatio continue. They were locked in the magic of first time coitus and their world had no horizons beyond the bed. They were oblivious when Ronald's climax grabbed him and heard nothing when Pamela unwound and went looking for her clothing.
She went to the high backed executive chair behind his desk to drop a memo before she left....
Dear Jeremy....
You two look right together. Please arrange, when you get your head on or off, to give Mrs. Arthur Pringle V.I.P. status to visit all research plants belonging to Energies Unlimited.
Like to start with your lab here tomorrow.
I shall keep our mutual secret as T know you will mine and never embarrass dear old EU. Loved it ... PP .
CHAPTER SIX
"It wasn't really intercourse!" Pamela coiled in the deep dark leather of the Lincoln and rested her cheek on Ronald's thigh, head tilted to study his inseam bulge.
"You say," he muttered, glancing at the poorly concealed patrol car behind the road sign. "I maybe didn't see it, but I think you made it with Mr. Daniels."
She giggled against his leg, feeling his body stiffen as he watched the police pull out in a swirl of dirt. "I can always tell when you're cop conscious, Ronald. You get that guilty freeze to your body and automatically slow down ten miles per hour."
"So, who needs a ticket?" He watched the black and white streak pass and chuckled in appreciation at her perceptiveness. "And, besides, the boss is supposed to be riding in the back seat. We get stopped, the fuzz might make me live up to my chauffeur's license."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Her hand crept lightly over the phenomenal ridge under his wool knit slacks. "Did I say so?"
"Then why all this nosiness about did I or didn't I with Mr. Daniels?"
"Because my job hangs on it, you might say. If Gelbert has a counterspy watching the spy, that's me, then we both could be in big trouble. Your executor explicitly instructed me if I saw you in the act of intercourse, I had a legal and moral obligation to report it."
"Why legal?"
"Part of the new contract I signed after Mr. Pringle's death. For twenty years." He felt her fingers on his zipper and simultaneously wished she would and wished she wouldn't. "You'll never make it for twenty years," he mourned. "And Fats Gelbert has me up for a ten percent hike annually to be your chaperone. Know what that means? I'd be making sixty thousand a year by the ... awwwhhh ... hey! No fair!"
Pamela wig-waggled the column of soaring stallion flesh, tugging back on the foreskin and making the thick cap contort and swell to the pull of her fist.
"Bet you can hit the windshield from down here." She was squeezing and pulling intently now and Ron felt the quick build-up of his charge. "Tell me you'll sleep with me tonight and I'll stop," she promised.
"You know what'll happen if I do," groaned Ron. "And even if it didn't, if Fats has us under surveillance, as I think he does, one picture of us in the sack and it's all over."
There was a brief exclamation of impatience from low on his body as she intensified his masturbation. "Come, Ronald DeWitt. Shoot it, now!"
"Naw ... heyyy!"
Ahead, beyond the cover of the road shrubs he had seen the tip of the dome light. Too late to stop her, he sucked in his gut and fought the onset of orgasm as he passed the radar watch.
"Guh ... go ... goin!" He humped against the clasping pumping fist and heard her happy squeal as the gism sparkled high and wild across the dash.
Abruptly it stopped and almost as quickly the turbulent rod was ropey spaghetti in her clasp. She sat up slowly, pulling down the passenger visor to use the vanity mirror on the back. There in the glass she saw why Ron was hurriedly hiding his collapsed penis and trying unsuccessfully to zipper his fly. The police care was closing with its rainbow dancing a demand for the Lincoln to pull over.
She was calmly closing his fly as the officer approached I the driver's window. And she was just as calm when the man stared from one to the other with open suspicion.
"First I see a driver only ... then I see two in the front seat. You mind explaining that?"
Pamela looked the man directly in the eye. "I was trying to seduce him. It didn't work."
"Be damned! Joe! C'mere!" The officer motioned his partner. "Run that by Reilly here, will you, miss? That's so honest it don't deserve a ticket. But watch it next time. This here road's got a minimum forty speed. You were crawlin', buddy."
A few moments later, warning ticket pocketed, Ron was hurrying the Lincoln and its unpredictable, impulsive passenger back to Windamere. As if it was the most ordinary of problems, Pamela was calmly wiping the spatter of semen from dash and steering column.
"You really surprised me," she pouted. "I thought sure you could hit the windshield."
He shook his head in pessimistic surrender. "You'll never make twenty years."
She leaned to peck his right cheek and remained close, staring at his profile. "We don't have to make twenty years. If we got caught, say like you say by Fats' private eye, we could split it down the middle. You know the terms. A million a year. We get caught, I give you half and that is at least thirty-five interest a year right now. You don't even have to marry me. Fact, I don't have to marry you."
"No way." He sighed at her openhanded innocence. "You know what that leaves you? Thirty-five a year for life."
"So? It's all I need." She slumped into the corner of the seat.
"And you'd be giving the fat boy all those millions. You're some kind of lady, Mrs. Pringle. But I'd hate myself forever, if I set you up for that kind of fall."
She stared pensively from the window. "Tomorrow you take me to Dr. Steven Lytle, the research wizard in the company labs." Obviously the topic was closed, as far as Pamela was concerned.
"Who is Dr. Lytle?" Ron watched her reflection in the glass and wanted to reach to touch and tell her what a fantastic thing she had done for him in his sexual reawakening.
"He invents things. Ways to measure energy.-Ways to convert it to a study. We may be traveling. Jeremy Daniels wants me to take some of the latest of Dr. Lytle's devices to some of the field stations."
"Probably trying to get you out of town," grumbled Ron. "Any chance he might be dangerous to you? You know I know what went on before his secretary broke in and I didn't see a thing. But she did. Suppose they decide to do you in for breaking the will's stipulation?"
If she heard him, there was no sign she understood. "How's your self-control?"
"Around you?" He tooled up the long drive to the turn-around in front of Windamere, pressing the electronic control on the Lincoln's side panel to close the heavy iron entry gates behind them. "Now that closes off the world ... unless someone snuck in while we were out."
"One of Fats' snoops? Who cares? If we aren't in bed or doing that awful thing they call copulation out in the open air, they can't hurt me. So I need my back scrubbed in the shower."
He was silent escorting her into the house and once inside, he excused himself to check security. Walking from sensor box to closed circuit to electronic warning center, he was lost in thought. Pamela was in the kitchen nibbling cold chicken when he returned from the check.
"So, what's the verdict?" '
"Everything's tight."
She selected a thigh from the dish and waved it invitingly but he shook his head and went for a cold Bud. "Don't you just love to eat chicken?"
Her pantomime was unsubtle ... her eyes unwavering on his face as she mouthed the phallic shape of the chicken thigh. He tried to take his eves from the mesmerizing wonder of those sucking lips. The ripe, moist thirstiness of them had clamped in savage demand on him there in the office. Now, as she munched the chicken, her sensuous lips, were again playing. Pretending to eat chicken, but wanting to eat Ronald. "I'd like to rub your back," he said.
There in the shower, they ate each other. He first, because ... well, because he just faked her out as he scrubbed her with the washcloth, going to his knees behind her, then turning her at just the right instant.
She tripped lightly as she spun round and his arms went tight round her buttocks to keep her from falling. And there at the most vulnerable point a girl could be, her cute pudendum was a breath away from his parted lips.
He made her orgasm on her feet, soaked by the shower while he practiced cunnilingus. His tongue snaked into the cute pussy cleft made tight and wrinkled by the water flow. He found a terribly bothered clitty nubbin and tongued it through her orgasm while she grabbed the' shower faucets and hung on desperately as erotic sensations stabbed to very corner.
The girl was a very special kind of nut, thrilled to be on exhibition when he was voyeuring, but especially thrilled when she was trapped into orgasms, ready or not. He tongued and licked her through five before she wilted to the shower tiles and burrowed into his crotch.
"Ohhh, I just love to eat this!" she moaned, slapping herself with the wet horny prick, then engulfing its bulbous crown in one avaricious gulp. Her fellatio was an act of piracy, stealing mercilessly from his treasure store of semen, sucking him through one climax into another, then darting from the shower stall in pretend fear of retribution. She raced into the bedroom, drying herself and when he left the bathroom minutes later she was already curled under the satin sheets of the great bed.
God, she looked inviting! He knew he was to her. There was only the tiny light from the nightstand casting a shimmering glow across her platinum silver hair, highlighting the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheets and outlining the rest of her body in shadows. She was unbearably desirable.
He dressed quickly and left the room, whispering, "Goodnight" to one he knew was still awake.
Setting the security switches, he stepped from the front door into the night, humming softly. Just as he reached the car a fist crashed across the back of his head, sprawling him into the drive.
"So, why didn't you sleep with her, you yo-yo?"
Ron moved to. his knees and stared up at three shadows planted before him and as he pushed upward, a foot took him directly across the chin.
"Next time we come, buster, we better find you in bed with the broad. Clear?"
The foot was about three inches closer than it should have been and Ron timed it perfectly. A startled cry as the foot's owner smashed against the macadam and before the other two could coordinate, one was down and the other spread across the car hood.
Ron searched the unconscious forms before he went for the phone, took the paper he needed from the leader and slammed the man's head against the drive when his groan warned he was coming round.
Minutes later a squad car was at the gate and within ten the trio was on its way to answer charges of an attempted B and E.
Ron stepped back into Windamere and listened at the foot of the stairs. No sound from the master bedroom. He knew it was Pamela's way. She had seen everything. Half-way down the steps to the car he threw a quick glance at the turret window directly above the main entry and saw the curtain move. Pamela Pringle was quite the lady. He tossed the window a salute. If he chose to be alone, that was her wish, too, and he felt a tremor of fierce temptation to dash back in and charge up to her room. But if there were three hoods from Fats Gelbert, there easily could be six more waiting in the wings. Nineteen million dollars was a lot of bread.
"This does what?" Pamela fingered the curious band aid size instrument
"Measures the greatest energy of all." Dr. Steve Lytle grinned as he watched her examine the Energasm Computer. "It's a little quasi-official research of my own, but come look at the more interesting things my colleagues are doing."
His colleagues, a dozen females, and twice that number males, were busy with half-a-dozen experiments, simultaneously. It was a long, low-ceilinged laboratory, divided into many rooms. Lytle walked his very special guest to the first in which the generators of all kinds of traditional energy were being tested.
Pamela's thought kept returning to the tiny plastic unit Lytle had reclaimed just before they left his office on the lab tour. He had promised to tell her of it later, but the curious flush in his cheeks made her doubt it. Lytle was somewhat embarrassed by his initial enthusiasm about what he'd called an Energasm Computer.
"Now here they're working on that old standby ... oil." He pointed through the glass at the two lab technicians marking a graph. "They're measuring B.T.U.s ... and...."
"And why are we watching through one-way glass?" she asked unexpectedly.
"Didn't Dr. Daniels tell you? It's a high echelon secret for brass and twenty-one percent stockholders. You noticed we moved into the observation channel directly through the wall behind the office safe in my digs? These people don't know they're being observed. He feels it would inhibit their work."
"Seems a little sneaky."
Again that cute flush stained his cheeks. "Not at all. Tell me, did he really want you to see everything down here? His memo said so to me."
"Everything," she replied quietly, feeling the expectancy build. "Even your private research project. You see, I'm going to be visiting the field stations of Energies Unlimited over the next year. So it's not just nosy curiosity by a stockholder. I might be useful to you as a courier of some of your ideas needing testing." Pamela hurried after him down the corridor.
He was silent, studying the clip board in the bend of his arm and, she suspected, mulling her last comment. Pamela liked Dr. Steven Lytle. Tall and slender, probably early thirties, she guessed, he was homely and boyish in his enthusiasm for applications of energy.
At the next to the last work lab he stood close behind her, pointing out the techninue two men were using to measure the thermal units of energy from the sun on the flesh of a shapely, light skinned black and that of an equally well stacked Eurasian. His nearness felt nice to a bothered Pam. Both girls wore only the minutest bra and panty combinations and were stretched on their backs on air mattresses, arms and legs out-flung under the sunlight source.
"We're very informal here," Lytle remarked when he saw her intense interest in the bantering and kidding between researchers and subjects. "They're actually rigging them for dermatological tests of the thermal impact of the sun on sensitive skin areas."
"Fascinating." She was sure she saw the full bulge of a hardened cock crown in the shadows of one lab tech's smock. He straightened from attaching sensor cups to the hollowing of the black's neck and hip and she was positive the lab man was hot for the black. "Why don't they test the most sensitive spots to sun energy?"
Lytle brightened instantly and walked to the wall phone. "I'll give them a call from my office," he winked. "Tell them I just thought of that."
"Liar," she teased. "They are informal!" The visibly bothered male technician went to the wall phone on Steve's ring and made no effort to conceal his jutting prick, now bolting through the opening of his gray smock. Pam saw both girls had noticed the fierce arousal...." oh, and Larry, testing breast flesh and the mons veneris flesh is testing solar energy impact, not your own impact."
"Sure, unit leader Lytle! Hey, that sounds like R.A.F. stuff!" Larry's voice carried over the conference speaker above the viewing panel. "Pure devotion to scientific research, that's us."
Pamela felt the proximity of Steven Lytle as he returned to stand behind her, watching. "If President Daniels didn't mean this candid a look at our research, I'm dead." He pointed across her shoulder at the bank of instrumentation over against the far wall.
"Everything gets measured there."
She noticed Steve's wedding band.
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and the slight move back drove her tail directly against a blunt, unyielding object. The gasp that burst from her guide's lips left no doubt he hadn't planned the collision of cock with the cute ass of his guest. Her hand darted behind her and closed on the formidable shaft ramrodding disrespectfully against his slacks.
"I'd say not everything gets measured in there." She continued to stare into the lab room as she fingered the grossly inflated phallic crown.
Easing closer to the infinitely desirable woman before him, a startled research director guessed she sooner or later would know the vivacious sexuality of this place and his own casual acceptance of it. He wondered if he dared to act on his gut feeling.
"You're married," Pamela observed matter-of-factly, mildly curious at his lack of resistance to her bold overture.
"That's my wife." He nodded across her shoulder toward the voluptuous Eurasian in the next room. From their proximity Pam could see she wore a matching wedding ring. "Vita loves this research."
"I can see," agreed Pamela, intrigued by the flawless burnt almond creaminess of Vita's skin. "Does she know about your viewing points in the lab?"
Steve nodded vigorously. "It wouldn't be fair to try to hide it from her. It doesn't inhibit her at all. See, she loves me; she also knows I love to see her exciting another man."
"What about that much excitement?" She pointed to the by-play between Vita and the technician Larry. As he pulled away her bikini panties and bent to attach the sensor node, her hand went brazenly through the gapping of the formless smock. Steve and Pam watched her draw Larry's erection into view and fondle it as he pretended to be preoccupied with the node.
"I understand her," he said simply. "She has a beautiful love of life. Her name says it all. I imagine Larry takes her at least once a day. He enjoys Andrea, too, and it's good. On these teams you need a lot of respect and no pussyfooting on very basic desire."
"Hmmmmmhh." Pamela ended the fondling of the phallus that had somehow slipped from a zipped fly and become nakedly urgent against her buttocks. "It's kind of refreshing. I wonder if Vita has that kind of generosity toward you. Has she seen you take another woman?"
"I haven't even actually seen another man take her. I just assume." He stepped past Pamela and pressed close to the glass, his impressive erection leaping as he studied the play between Larry and Vita. "As a matter-of-fact, I'd like to see that once."
"Maybe you picked the right day," she murmured, reversing the way it was and moving directly behind Lytle. "If it's all mutual respect and no pussyfooting, what if a stranger intrudes to do this?" Her arms circled his hips and found the target and as she pulled open the smock and bared the long, very ready bar of horny gristle, Vita turned her face toward the one-way glass.
Pamela felt the quiver race down Steve's spine. "Now I know how you'd feel if you were in the same room right now. I think, Dr. Lytle, you are something of a hypocrite. You want to voyeur your wife, but you have cardiac arrest to even imagine her seeing you handled by another woman."
He turned away silent, meditating the accusation. When he turned back, he was zipped. "Maybe I do and didn't even recognize it. You know, it's a whole brand new avenue of energy research." He fished the miniaturized instrument that had fascinated Pamela from the first moment she saw it in his office. "Here's a way to find out if energies are depleted or superheated when there's maybe guilt or a lot of tension."
"Energasm measures what energy unit? Don't tell me-let me guess." She took the tiny instrument and fingered the adhesive backing. "Orgasm energy?"
"Exactly!" He retrieved the unit and pointed out the full set of kinetic, actual, potential and other energy gauges and smiled at the awe in her expression. "Age of the teeny tiny. Solid state, the guts miniaturized to microscopic proportions and this little tell-tale will fit on either male or female."
"Where?"
"At the point of maximum kinesthesia. The shaft of an erect penis or the threshold of a vagina."
"Has it been tried?"
He nodded over his shoulder at the foursome. "Every one of the employees of this place has volunteered to wear one constantly. That's why I surmise Larry is intimate with my wife most every day. See, there's a feed-' back to the central receptor office. We know exactly when someone is in orgasm in the plant. Just not refined enough to feed back with whom or where and not enough budget to hire a monitor."
Pamela brushed a wandering lock out of her eyes and saw the intensity of Steve's watching the scene in the next room. More than scientific curiosity, she was sure.
She tugged his sleeve and whispered in his ear, "I hope you really meant the mutual respect and understanding bit."
They watched Larry drop across Vita's legs to plant the solar sensor node on the rise of her vee mound. Still straddled across the beautifully contoured turn of her thigh, he angled his rigid prick through barely separated legs. She was clearly used to her visitor.
"Good," they heard Vita coo as the cock slipped into the threshold of her cunt. "Ooohhh ... that is the nicest I've felt down there all day."
Steve pounded his palm with his fist. "Be a sonofabitch! We made love before we got up this morning and she likes this more!" His neck colored and Pamela saw the stiffening at his slacks front which had been wilted all through his mini lecture on Energasms. He was a contradiction in himself, she thought.
It would be very interesting to see how bright young scientists like these handled personal jealousies and sexual crises that muscled in on monogamy. Somehow the feeling grew on Pamela that it would be a very old story of outraged cuckolded husband and betrayed wife. She remembered the fury at first when Janice had discovered Jeremy Daniels in flagrante delicto with a total stranger. And Janice was only Jeremy's lover. What would a wife do?
Pamela watched the luscious Mrs. Steven Lytle admit her adulterer fully between her legs. Pam fought the impulse for a moment, then openly studied Steve as he gaped at Vita.
"Hurts, huh?"
"A little." His fingers crept into hers. "Come on into the master control room and watch them peak. First time I've been sure when Vita's climaxing in intercourse."
Inside the room which seemed floor-to-ceiling with gauges and fluttering lights and spinning tapes, Pamela saw Steven begin to relax again. He walked directly to the two recording units measuring sexual energy in Larry and his playmate.
"My wife is very intense about her sex," he muttered as the numerical print-out below the recording showed her cresting again and again. Suddenly both print-outs were quadruple their norm, teetering up and down and down and up.
"What's that?"
"Not sure." Steve frowned at the erratic pattern. "I believe we might be watching Larry ejaculating into my wife."
"How nice."
Pamela hoped she didn't register all the irritation she felt. She actually felt twice the age of this curiously detached scientist who seemed bent on reducing the sublime to the ridiculous. A little maternal and a little square. Through the last minutes of what Larry had made a very protracted act of sex, Steve Lytle had been totally erected again. "Have you a second one of your Energasms?"
"Of course."
His eyes were suddenly interested after having gone lifeless as the mutual mania of his wife with another man reached 321 over 307.
"Does that higher figure mean that the best orgasm was Vita's?"
"Only the most potent energy wise." He turned toward her and seized her hands. "You see, we just have the prototype in limited numbers of Energasm. I've finished a portable scanner to take the tests to the field, but we haven't yet begun to study things like most meaningful orgasms, greatest semen discharge or a lot of things that could mean much for the world. For procreation, at least."
"Who wants to do it for that?" She pulled his hands around her waist and stepped close. "I wonder how your wife would feel about watching your own ejaculation into another girl."
For the first time his off again/on again hard-on was jammed against her middle.
"So, don't you think a fair-skinned Anglo like me would be a nice contrast for studying solar energy along with a black and a bronze job?"
"Vita has olive skin," he chuckled, then caught his breath as she brazenly opened his obstructive smock and fixed the Energasm at the root of his erection. "Male or female don't even feel it. It's beautiful for testing." He drew her to the day bed in the corner of the master sensor control and quickly and skillfully undressed her.
"Ohhhh, Lord!" he groaned as he drew her panties down golden smooth thighs and bared the most intimate part of Pamela Pringle. "Vita will come unglued at the new kid on the block. I'm already unglued." He fingered his bone hardness. "Let's practice before we tangle with the troops."
"No way. Besides, you haven't plugged in our units to the recorder. I want to know what I score when I get it."
Somehow Steve managed to tune the remote Energasms to the master control, in spite of the casual near nude stretched maddeningly on the cot. Only her bra remained and she had asked Steve not to take it off. "Frequency thing," he murmured as he adjusted megahertz codes. "No wires like your sex study clinics ... everything is free and open, and constantly recorded."
"Would that also be true for your field unit?" Pam felt something of the spell that must beset a sexual scientist. She could be naked, excited and nearing play, yet detached and academic. "How portable is it, really?"
"No bigger than a briefcase. You could carry it easily, for example ... sayyyy...." His eyes brightened as a notion grabbed him, but her tantalizing movement on the bed stopped the thought. She was no longer listening to him, a stronger voice deep inside her too long vacated vagina was needling and he watched her toying with her nipples.
"Like that!" He studied the print out of her Energasm response. "Let me ask, do you mind exciting yourself more to give me a reading? Only for a second," he added apologetically.
Pamela's fingers stroked-over hyper-sensitized pussy flesh and the arrow on the wall gauge leaped violently. "That's me?" she asked.
"You. One of you is very highly sexed, either the Energasm unit or you, but I think it's you. Would you mind ... a little more ...?"
He was amusing himself, thought Pamela, fingering through yielding cunt lips and stroking the tip of the clitoris. There was something hypnotizing about Steve's eyes as her self-play began to claim her from idle fondling to urgent stroking. She wondered if a man ever had watched her masturbate. Why did it feel so awfully good?
"Spread your legs wider," she heard him demand and she obeyed. "Now, finger open your labia. Do it! Do it, Mrs. Pringle!" With a volcanic rush the climax struck her, shuddering through her whole being and transporting her to a new dimension in exhibitionism. "Beautiful...." His praise seemed to come from some faraway cloud.
Vita Lytle was still linked in coital embrace to the technician when the door to Experimental Room 8 opened unexpectedly. She gripped her playmate's bare shoulders with sudden ferocity at the surprise visit from her husband. She had been expecting it. She knew her husband could at any time join their daily play break, likely often watched it from behind the window, though he denied that.
But she hadn't been prepared for him to come into the softly lit room with a gorgeous female in tow. Even in the shapeless smock it was obvious this dazzling woman of the sparkling platinum hair and the bared legs was a female of keen interest to her husband. He was making no effort to conceal the excitement jabbing into view through the middle of his smock.
"Mrs. Pringle has called me a hypocrite," he said in a curiously strained voice. "We happened to be passing and I declared I'd prove I wasn't. No, don't move, Larry. Room for six on this busy wrestling mat, isn't there?"
There was, and loving hands drew Pamela and Steve into the midst of the bodies. It was the lifting of a weight from Vita's shoulders, even as the envy glittered like flint in her dark eyes. Her husband was as open with her now as she had wanted to be with him. Never admitting to copulation fun in the lab day, always imagining he was there beyond the window watching, but never daring to ask.
"My very first chance to study your print-outs while you were coming," Steve said, squirming with Pamela into the tight space between Vita on one side and Andrea, the black, on the other. "We're going to try some controlled experiments now. Since you're already positioned for what I had in mind, stay with your present partners while I introduce you to Mrs. Pamela Pringle as a guest star."
"How do we know she's a star?" Vita had cute pouting lips, Pam thought. "She's hiding her breasts under her bra. Maybe she isn't a star at all."
"Why don't you check it out, darling?" Steve winked at his wife and she crinkled her nose disdainfully, but obeyed the request, reaching for the bra snaps.
"Ooohhhh!" Andrea wriggled almost free of the coital embrace with her playmate to reach and touch the enticing fullness of the ivory globes. "She's a star. Ooohh, she even bothers me!"
"Everything bothers Andrea," snipped Vita, moving slowly at the waist to begin a slow rotation against Larry's deeply driven phallus. "Larry, fuck me. I want to be all messed up with you when Steven does what he has to do, else I'll kill them both where they he!"
The couples on either side of them began to grind slowly and sensuously and the coital magnetism was overwhelming. Andrea's impudent ass shoved against Pamela's buttocks while the saucy tautness of Vita's tail pressed Steve's hip as she copulated with Larry.
Pamela saw Vita's lowered lashes as she pretended not to watch the merger of her husband's brimming hard-on with another woman's body. The slight flicker of the long lashes, then sudden wide-eyed staring gave Pamela a heart flutter of expecting another scene like that with Janice.
Instead, Vita did a curious, beautiful thing. Body writhing to the piston thrusts of Larry, she arched up and almost over Steve's shoulder, turning her face toward Pamela.
"Kiss me," she whispered in a voice so low, Pamela wondered if the others heard. "Please kiss me, Pamela," her whisper was audible plea now. "I want to show love to the first woman I've ever watched take Stevie inside her."
There was an eerie madness about it, a feeling like none Pam could imagine to press her lips to Vita's while Steve pressed his cock just inside her cunt lips.
"Is he way in yet?" murmured Vita against Pamela's lips.
"This far." Pam slipped her tongue barely past the carmine softness of Vita's mouth.
It was an incredibly erotic feeling to the Eruasian beauty for another woman's tongue to be telegraphing her husband's adultery. When the tight clamp of Pammy's vagina resisted the easy plunge of his cock, Steve began a rat-a-tat pistoning against the clasping cunt muscles and Pammy's tongue reported it to Vita's mouth in tiny stabbing thrusts.
The clutching quim walls yielded to the onslaught of the determined cock and as Steve's erection drove deeply into her body, Pamela's tongue drove far into the warm oral pit of Vita's mouth. She glanced down and saw that husband and wife were holding hands in a fierce clasp as they copulated with other partners.
"Ohmigod!" moaned Steve, his orgasm storming for release in perfect synchronization with Pamela's.
An answering cry of ecstasy sounded deep in the lovely throat of Vita as she kissed Pamela even more feverishly. It was a demanding, fiercely exciting kind of four-way orgasm and the ejaculations of both Larry and Steve seemed to race on and on in endless tribute to the girls.
Without needing Steve to verbalize instructions for the next playtime, the two couples disengaged only at their body locks. Legs and arms entwining with each other, the four writhed across the pulsing excitement of Andrea and Terry, engulfing the beautiful black and the youngest male technician of the labs in their play.
It was a symphony of seduction and spontaneous coitus.
There was no special target for any of the participants. In the lighthearted wrestling of the sex, a fierce erection pressed Pamela's warm, surrendered vulva and suddenly there was a cock inside her cunt. Several deep thrusts and it was gone, torn from its spasm-whipped hostess by the giggling, carefree squirming of another pair.
Sweet compelling fragrance of girl flesh! Pussy pressed close to Pamela's cheek as one of the girls wriggled for a new position, her darling labia a breath away. Pamela clutched fiercely to hold straining hips and burrowed into the palpitating cleft. A shrill cry of near instant climax broke from whomever Pamela held and at the same second a muscled thigh crept over her hips. Pammy's lesby kiss was replaced with a male organ jabbing and shoving into the saliva moistened cunt slit. .
"Let's make a circle of love!" cried Vita, catching Pamela's hand and drawing her to a position below Steve's thighs. Everyone has to wiggle and turn right where they are till we make a six people circle with each one of us doing something wonderful to someone else. Long as it's opposites, it'll come out even."
Pamela reached for the nearest opposite and her fist closed on Steve's wildly erected cock. "There!" squealed Vita. "That's the first connection. Steven's been crawling all over everybody but he's been waiting for one to come back..;. I've been watching, Stevie, baby."
"Can't help it, darling. Pamela's just got me a little out of my tree."
"She has all of us, but she gets you. Show Andrea and me how ... please?" Her eyes were wide dark circles of pleading as she puckered her lips suggestively. "I don't really know how to do it."
The circle of love writhed and turned and meshed, body to body, phallus to vagina and in Steve's case Pamela's lips sealed to his cock. It was an altogether possessed fellatio that the others watched even as they played. Pamela nursed the darkening mushroom crown, squeezing the root to thicken the glans cap.
A last storm of self-consciousness swept her as she guided the swollen tip into her lips. Looking across the circle of love she saw Vita's intense stare. Pamela spewed the glistening tip of Steve's prick into the air and held it between her face and Vita's, looking at the pouting preoccupation of the other girl.
"You really want me to do it?" she asked. "You want me to perform fellatio on your husband with you watching?"
"Please. I want you to suck his pretty cock and drink his come. I've never." She shivered as her new play partner Terry ground his excitement deeply into her passion pit. "I love seeing Steve's prick shoved into your pretty face. He's really ugly and you're so beautiful!"
Maybe that's why you've never tasted his come, thought Pamela, stretching her head far back, feeling the light tumble of her hair across her shoulders and arching to position herself for the act.
"Look at her boobs!" breathed an awed Larry, lifting his head to stare up the front of Pam's curvaceous torso. "They are really excited!"
And they were.
As Pamela caught the thick barrel of Steve's cock and felt her audience watching, all her being seemed involved in the suck-off of another girl's man. She slurped and siphoned and munched and finally, wild for wanting his gift, she sucked in brazen frenzy, fondling his full balls and caressing the underbarrel of his shaft to hurry his ejaculation.
It cannonaded into her mouth, racing warm and light and impudent. Writhing to the maniacal cunnilingus that matched her own oral play with Steve, Pam let herself come to the tonguing demands of Larry.
Very slowly their mutual hungers quieted and the sextet unwound into six separate bodies, sprawled and spent on the mat. They talked of the potentials of Energasm in spontaneous sexual research projects and as the five exchanged views, Pamela felt the idea coming of age that had been needling her.
"Why not let me take some Energasm units and the portable control with me? I'm going to visit Energies Unlimited installations around the world and I could introduce the latest R and D project. Maybe be kind of an ambassador for the shadowy side of Energies. You know, to all those stodgy managerial types around the world for Energies Unlimited. All they ever think of is solar energy and petrol energy and electric energy ... and promotions."
"And how would you introduce something like an Energasm?" Steve was on his feet, getting back into slacks and smock, once more the lab director. "Stodgy types aren't going to really like what you call the shadowy side of our research back here, are they?"
Pamela propped her chin between her palms and sprawled unconcernedly on her front while the others dressed. "To tell you the truth, I bet they go wild for it. They're going to be meeting a gal who doesn't believe in one special bit of energy this corporation has insisted on wasting too long."
She pushed to a sitting position and shrugged naked into the smock that Terry laid across her shoulders. "See, I happen to believe this company killed my husband; Used up all his energy on lots less important things than what we were just doing." She gestured impatiently at the five of them. "You're all lots like Arthur was, except that you're young and you have super demanding sexual needs. You still can put priorities where they belong before it's too late, but you've got to decide. Is it all career, or lots of both sex and career? Most of the guys go career." She shook her head sadly. "I've watched dozens of them leave widows like me just because Energies Unlimited dangled the golden carrot in front of their nose."
"Treason talk," chuckled Steve nervously.
"It isn't and you know it!" flared Pamela. "You're going to work lots better the rest of the day for our playing for awhile, right?"
"You know it!" He pulled her to her feet, caught an arm around his wife's waist and steered both girls toward the door. "We have got to go see what that funny computer has to say about our misbehavior!"
Ron was secretly delighted by Pamela's announcement as he drove her home from the lab. "We're leaving next week?"
She nodded excitedly. "I'm a kind of ambassador without portfolio. We're going from the home office to some of the brighter young executives who Jeremy feels have great promise for top brass. He's also asked me to take a couple of new product items Research has been working on along special energy lines."
He cocked a quizzical eyebrow at that special radiance he had come to recognize and love in this girl who no longer was only an employer. There was a dynamite chemistry between them. Their metabolisms must have identical compositions, he had decided waiting for her in the laboratory lobby. Several times in the course of the two hour wait he had gone irresistibly hard and after the first one had glanced at his watch.
"Was the new product briefing what took you so long at the lab?" he asked noncommittally, turning into Windamere's drive.
"Nosy." She had a challenge in her eye but not hostility. The man at the wheel was building up to ask more and she really didn't mind. His only "moral legal" dilemma, as he called it, would come from actually seeing her in the act of sexual intercourse. Hearsay or alternatives to copulation made no problem.
In her mind there was no problem at all-moral, legal or anything. Ronald, who had been sexually dead for fifteen years, had come sizzling back to desire-driven sexuality. Till now his bubbling, seething reawakening penis was stirred only by her. That well might not remain her monopoly for long. It was a worthless monopoly with that damned codicil in Arthur's last will and testament.
No act of intercourse for twenty years! There was no way she could honor that as morally binding. A dead man asking her to lie down and die. And a very much alive, honorable guy at the wheel of her Lincoln who felt responsibility to such an evil demand. , She'd break Ronald's misplaced sense of loyalty somehow. For more than his fantastic phallus she felt a deep stirring inside. She wondered if what she was calling love was wanting favor with the man who had such power over her future.
"No way," she said abruptly, staring out the window at the late fall landscape.
"No way what?" Ron thought she was denying sexual action at Energies Urilimited Labs. "I bet you did. It's none of my business, but I can tell you when."
"So tell." She crinkled her nose disdainfully.
He handed her a telephone memo slip borrowed from the receptionist in the lab lobby and Pam studied the figures.
For a quiet moment she simply stared at the slip of paper and thought. There was only one possible way. "You were watching!"
"No." He debated telling what he doubted she would believe. "But you did climax at those times, didn't you?"
She sighed and curled sexily in the door corner of the passenger side. "You must have been watching." She glanced at the paper again. "Wasn't I awful at three-two, three-five and three-eight? I just couldn't stop coming. Ronald! You are getting the biggest erection remembering your peeping torn act."
"Please, don't sit against the door!" he snapped. "It makes me nervous. You might fall out."
"Out of a Lincoln? You're getting a bigger one, thinking of losing me." She giggled at his concern but didn't move. "So, Sherlock, are you turning me in to Fats Gelbert, my executioner? Walk into his office wearing that big thing and maybe he'll split the other nineteen million with you. Doesn't matter whose did it, just as long as some male organ went into my little vagina. Right? Just don't count on any favors from Fats ... or from me, if you blow the whistle."
He chuckled quietly. "When you get done running off at the mouth ... tell me."
"I'm done."
He pulled to the curb before the main door of Windamere. "I didn't see you at those times. I felt you. And I wouldn't be able to turn you in now, even if I had. You know why."
Pamela felt her head swirl to the double revelation. She always had thought he would not turn her in, even if he caught her. But that other discovery. ... "You felt me coming?"
"Don't ask me if I'm some kind of ESP freak or something. I don't know how, but I know at those times I went hard as a rock right then. Lasted thirty to fifty seconds. I could actually feel the way it must have felt to who you were ... making it with...." His face colored as she continued to stare, trying not to believe him, but having to.
"Go on," she encouraged.
"The two girls back there at the lab reception lobby are probably whispering about your chauffeur right now."
"Why?"
"I told you how I'm not turned on by other females. Well, when I got really zapped by that first time sensation-what was it about two-seventeen? Anyway I had a feeling and asked one of those two gals at the desks if I could bum a piece of paper. One waved her memo pad at me and I really hadn't counted on having to walk to get it; you know, they usually fall all over you with courtesy, these reception gals....
"Anyhow, I still had most of my hard-on jamming my damned pants! Forbes Magazine didn't cover it, I guess, and when I tried to stroll nonchalantly to get the paper, both of them stared. When I got back I saw why. I'd shot, right at the second I got those first wild vibes from you.
Not even touching myself! Here was this ring where it had oozed through from my jockeys to the front of my pants!"
"Wayyyittt!" A fascinated Pamela stretched across the seat and rested her hand casually on the fiercely bulging slacks. There were traces of wetness. "You're telling me you actually came to something you felt I was doing?"
He visibly shuddered. "Maybe it's because I'm so psyched after fifteen years. There's something weird. You're the only one to make me like this. Listen, I felt the second climax you had building up and I went rock hard again and felt that bubbling start. I even stared at the two secretaries, thinking it would cool me down...."
"Most men would go the opposite route, looking at those two. Didn't you find them attractive?"
She remembered Steve Lytle telling her about the female "window dressing" in the lobby where he kept two of his favorite lab experiments busy when they weren't being used as his prime testers of the Energasm unit.
She ran their job description down for Ron to get him to go on with his story. "They probably thought you were their stud for the day."
"Any other time," he grunted. "Some stack jobs! So that's why they kept watching? I know damned well the cute redhead saw my last dumb ass trick. I kept getting hotter and hotter and only shot that first time, but felt right at the brink every other ... jeez! You peaked out six times ... not the same guy, I hope."
"Three." She felt "a tremor at the freedom she felt to be honest with this man at her side. "So, what happened on the seventh?"
"Couldn't help myself. Tried to shield it with the Wall Street Journal, but I don't think I kidded the redhead. I unzipped and pulled it out and, well ... I masturbated "right in time with your buildup."
"I believe you."
Pamela rested her hand lightly on the still covered erection. "Thank you for telling me. I'm really honored. I like you a very lot, Ronald DeWitt. And I respect your problem about us. You do whatever you have to do about reporting me, if you see anything like intercourse, 'cause you're liable to on our trip."
He shook his head, weary with the dilemma of his watchdog job and his fantastic identification with this sweet, happy-go-lucky lady. God, if she just wasn't such a delicious impact on his emotions! If he could write her off as a no-good nymph, but he couldn't. It was this sizzling voluptuary who had freed him from his imprisonment to impotency. Without her, he still would be a eunuch.
"I made a decision," he said tersely. "You maybe have made one that vetoes it, but to be really your bodyguard, I've decided I ought to be close where I can guard your body. At least, at sleeping times."
"Honestly?" She inched across the seat till she was pressed against his shoulder, staring intently at the curious determination on his face. "Do you mean you would be willing to guard me at night, right in my own bed?"
"Something like that." He flushed uncomfortably at the strange fence he was teetering on in his proposition. Employee to employer? Call it what it was, he thought to himself. A male in love wanting to be near the female he idolized. Maybe she'd be annoyed at his excuse of better protection. He held his breath.
"I think that is a super idea," she said softly, leaning to press a light kiss to his cheek. "But I should warn you, I sleep wearing my perfume."
"Nothing else?"
"Huhunnnhh." She pushed back to the middle of the seat. "Do you wear anything?"
"Not perfume."
"Any ground rules of security from my bodyguard ... I mean, for bedtime security?"
"Just one. You know it already."
She fell silent, mulling the possibilities beyond the coitus prohibition. Would he change his mind and go cold? Would actually being in a woman's bed maybe even return his problem? That's where it began years earlier. Her heart tripped uncertainly over the good and the bad potentials of the new step. And it grabbed her, very quietly but very firmly, that it made one hell of a difference to her not to hurt this man.
It was very late.
One week to the day after they had begun sleeping together.
Their play with each other in bed, she tried to tell herself, should be more than enough of a sex life. They did everything but copulate. And they did it repeatedly.
,A long-starved male with an incredibly long penis to devil her, put it in every nook and crevice he could find. Now as they wrestled and writhed in play he shot unbelievable loads of love. Every erogenous point on her body forced ejaculations from beautifully outsized, oversexed Ronald. All but her vagina.
She had sucked him and licked him. God, he could mount a head! His cute foreskin would slither back to her busy lips and her tongue would madden the sensitive underside of his glans cap and craze a million erotic nerves along that huge protruding ledge.
But neither his coming into her mouth nor splattering semen deep into her throat brought Pamela to climax. It was fun and frightfully arousing to have him jab that monster into her navel, her armpits, her eyes and ears, but there was no ditty trigger in any of those sensation-ridden places.
And while he seemed to get right to the edge of anal intercourse, cramming that impossible cock crown through her ass cheeks and into the very ready tail cleft, he was stopped by the stupid moral/legal bit of his contract with a dead man.
Dumb!
A very frustrated Pamela lay next to him this night before they were to fly to half-a-dozen overseas Energies Unlimited centers. He now was sound asleep and very out of it. They had played for less than an hour and he hadn't been his usual potent self this night.
A beautiful part of his sexuality was wanting her to be really fulfilled. Cunnilingus was not only permissible by the letter of the law of his contract, it was the only thing that brought part of him in contact with her clitoris.
And so, as on every other night, he had kissed and siphoned that tempestuous clitty and brought her on in shattering orgasms that had her clinging to the sides of his head to try to force his tongue deeper into her vagina.
"Should be enough!" she scolded herself, lying on her side, facing the beautiful hunk of man stretched naked on the satin. "It should satisfy you!"
A low, even breathing was the only response of her bodyguard. He lay reaching close and she reached. The long pendulous penis lay limp in the palm of her hand. He should be shot down, she thought. The man had come only one violent time to their bed play this night. He must be uptight about the trip, she thought.
In the glow of the tiny nightlight his powerful frame seemed relaxed and at the same time quietly coiled for any emergency. But the soft snore that eased from his lips left little doubt that he was out of it.
Deep in her loins a seething yearning began to build. She knew it was wrong but she continued to fondle that outsized pooped penis in her fist. It wasn't just a question of wrong or right. If he had a chemistry for her that told him when she was climaxing, even when he wasn't around, she also had a chemistry for him. She had to touch him.
His head lolled lightly to the side away from her and she felt safe and alone to her mischief, even though there was a full mirror on the wall toward which he had turned. She stretched across his thigh and rested her lips against the sweet swelling of his testicles. So full! Even after orgasm, he still had very loaded balls.
There was a sudden stirring of the limpness, a hint of movement and a thickening of the spongy man flesh. She opened her fingers and it began to stretch. Like a waking giant it thickened and moved over the curve of his testicles, its dark cap still bidden by the white foreskin.
The power in that animal! She stared as the burgeoning column lifted from his thigh and as she watched, the foreskin began to slide back from the pressure of the expanding prick cap. Deep burgundy satin, like the bludgeon point of a white spear now distorted to mushroom shape, seemed to hold the stiffening barrel in its crescent bend. Top heavy, thought an entranced girl. Too big for the shaft to support and the cock's trembling effort to stand straight up wouldn't work this time. The man was too tired. Wrong!
It reared, extended and thickened still more, brushing her fingertips as it soared for the sky. And there it stood upraised, a reaming exclamation point of man's desire, lonely in the night. Unsatisfied!
A whispered snore was almost comic intrusion into the spell the monumental priapus had cast over Pamela. But it was a heavenly message for a passion-whipped girl, controlled by the inflamed phallus. She knew she could finger it to ejaculation. Or she could suck it through discharge as she had done earlier. Or she could turn her back on it and curl into a lonely shell and try to go to sleep. But that wouldn't work this night. She had to risk whatever for this cock in her vagina.
Like a stalking goddess of the hunt, she eased from his side, stretching and twisting with breathless care as she moved astride his thighs. In the low light she saw the reflection of her body in the wall to ceiling mirror beside her bed. Was that ripe succulence Of thrusting breast and wide hip and golden gorgeous flesh to be wasted? Was hers a wanton body because she had to have this magnificent cock? It never could be wanton with Ron ... not the way she felt about him ... she knew she had to try.
What wakened Ronald, he wasn't sure.
All at once he was conscious without being with it. He lay inert and felt the warm wonderful clasp of Pam's thigh's tight against his. He felt the tingling, seductive grab deep in his groin. It was that beautiful feeling of being hard. His mind wouldn't wake. He hoped it never would. He lay motionless, letting her think he was asleep.
Slowly she settled on the blunt knobby cock crown, writhing ever so gently to ease the glans through butter-soft pussy lips into her vagina. Suddenly he was in there! Fully into her! She was riding his phenomenal love organ and he never knew it,
Watching herself in the great mirror, she impaled her lush straining torso on the impaling shaft. The cap met the resistance of her clasping vagina muscles and she slowed to let the cock in at the speed her body wanted. It was like playing with a dildo, she told herself, and not really playing a sneaky trick on Ronald. Couldn't count if he wasn't thrusting and shoving. That's what made intercourse.
But this was so fantastic!
She had taken nearly all the massive barrel and now she was rising to her knees to expose nearly all of it again. In the mirror it was an animal beautiful sight to see the soaked shaft ooze out of her body till the thick crown ledge appeared. Then she settled slowly down on the love spear once again.
Ron fought the need to moan delirium and somehow kept his silence, somehow stilled his frantic body spasms. Just as he knew he was going to come unglued, Pam began to scream, frantically clutching her deliciously jutting breasts as if to contain the rapture, bending deeply back to the impact of her climax.
He shot and shot and shot again-cannonading a rain shower of semen to the firewalls of her cunt. She writhed and arched and spunked out of control, completely forgetting her want to be subtle or gentle. Riding his tumescent barrel, she clawed at herself, then at the indriven cock in end-over-end ecstasy, and she climaxed repeatedly.
Ever so slowly the fever that gripped her quieted. The sweep of three rapid fire orgasms had eased the searing burn for Ron's prick. She disengaged and, wilting to his side, curled close to listen to his breathing and stare at the banana shape of his love organ. Its glisten caught her eye and she lectured herself against the impulse, but lost. When he woke he surely would seethe sparkle of dried residue of their mingled come flow.
Easing gently across the rugged muscles of his thigh, she tongued where semen had puddled in the hollowing between his testicles. Sweet bittersweet tartness!
She traced the glittering evidence around the root of his penis, then stopped in sudden shock. In her eagerness she had forgotten. Both of them had been wearing the Enerjasm recorder! Flush-mounted flesh-soft units that were impossible to distinguish from cockflesh itself, till her tongue touched it.
It would show on the recorder tape!
In the print-out he would see he had registered several digits higher in orgasm intensity than her fellatio had brought on in the man.
Maybe he wouldn't see, but he'd been checking the portable every morning, just for fun to see if their orgasms were more or less potent than the first times.
A fully freshened phallus quivered in lonely splendor in the night as she slipped from the bed and hurried to the vanity table. With practiced expertise, she rewound the tape and returned to record.
Seconds later she was back, hovering over the firebrand of Ron's want, blessing her luck he was still asleep, head angled just as it had been through the whole romp. With love's contempt for his continued sleep, she ovaled soft warm lips around the gleaming glans. Puckering a maddening mouth vise to the tumid cone, she began a leisurely fellatio. An amused, inflamed Ron knew it was time to pretend to wake.
"Lordy ... Pam ... Pamela! WhahhhhH!" He writhed against the mad pleasure riddling from his head to his toes as the moment neared. "Suck, baby ... suck it!"
She was a superb-bodied angel bent in fellatio frenzy to an outlandish prick. A vision of caressable, cock-maddening wanton with the innocence of heaven in her man need. And that was why he felt no dilemma over their copulation.-He hadn't really wakened. It couldn't count since real intercourse had to be two to tango, even though he had unloaded volcanic eruptions of hot spunk directly into her sweet twat. , He watched her fellatio now. He was wide awake and she knew it. She had crept into the valley of his opened thighs and was caressing his balls as she siphoned thirstily to hurry his ejaculation. She loved to suck him from this crouching jackknifed position. It made it easy for his hands to reach her breasts and she loved her brazen beauties fondled, her nipples deviled as she sucked bock.
This time some bizarre overwhelming need seized her as he strummed the animated globes. He felt a tremble ripple through her hips and spread to every point and her urgent siphoning stopped abruptly. Then before his en tranced watching, slowly, uncoiling from the couch, Pamela straightened.
"Now, Ronald DeWitt! NOW!" Never moving from between his legs but writhing and stretching, reaching for empty heights above her head, she was naked voluptuary in a fire of want. "You must take me, Ronnie ... take me!"
An urgent pelvic thrust and a tightening of her impudent buttocks shoved her vee mound directly against a rampaging cock, still dripping with the warm saliva of her sucking. He stared at the perfect positioning. His darkly swollen prick cap was nudged into the curve of her mons veneris, flush against buttersoft pussy slit. She eased slightly downward and he felt the labial lips begin to part, moist and ready for invasion.
"Do me, Ronnie!" she begged, her eyes visibly glazed even in semi-darkness. "See, darling, it's not like we were. doing it. I ... I'm not even helping or anything!"
She threw her head far back and in the half-light tumbling platinum lengths swirled low around her back. "I don't even know you're there. I'm just a lonely girl in my bed ... giving nice feelings to myself."
Indescribably beautiful in solo sensuality, the desperately need-filled girl toyed and stroked. Her lovely arms wove a pattern of self-seduction from point to sizzling point on her glorious body. And all without shifting her enticing sex center from its contact with the thick corona of his phallic crown. One shove and he could be inside that yearning passion tunnel of her cunt
"I love to play with myself," she moaned, face turned toward the ceiling and body arched so that he could only see the tips of her fingers now, dancing across the upraised nipples.
"Love to stroke my breasts and caress my nipples. Such satiny ... oohhhh! ... it feels so good ... all the way down!" Her fingers raced to the wide curve of her hips, then slid over her taut tummy plateau down to the start of her prominent pubic mound. In the low glow of the night light every highlight of her superlative body's hills and valleys seemed to pulse to a compelling sensual electricity.
"Here's where I really love to play."
An eerie otherworldly feel gripped Ron as he drank in the sex possession of Pamela. Head now far back, her legs and body really seemed something apart from the thinking part of her.
"A girl loves to play with herself!" Her fingertips caressed around the perimeter of the quivering prick tip, but only to get past the penis obstruction to the entry to her play pen. "Ooohhh, it is soooo nice in here!"
With pretended ignorance of the presence of that ballooning, ripe penis, she began to masturbate before his eyes. Two urgent fingers splayed wide the labial cleft and held it open almost cruelly while two other fingers strummed a very visible clitty. She was overdeveloped at the trigger point just as he was.
"Oh, dear God, I'm going to make myself come ... come...."
In some wonderful nether world beyond reality, Ron gaped at the fabulous nude. She was straddling his thighs now, where before she had been between them. How she shifted without his knowing he had no idea. Nor any idea who this was as his thoughts swirled in dizzying circles. Was it Dantrelle Svenson? ... Pamela ... somebody? ... or one of the secretaries in that reception room ... or who...?
Whoever it was, she had perfect female contours in the most dramatic places and she had the most pronounced clitty a girl ever had.
In the swirling mingle of real and unreal, mind over matter and desire over everything else, Ron convinced himself. Whoever this girl was didn't matter, for she wasn't involved in what he had to do. No man as flame hard as he was would let a delectable creature like this simply finger herself through a masturbated orgasm while a ready erection was right there.
"Ooohhh ... I'm coming! I'm coming now ... nowwweee!"
She writhed against the torture of her fingers and nearly fell away to her back from the violence of her climax. Ron's hands cupped her ass cheeks at the very last instant. Perfect angle! Now no holding back! He arched against the mattress and drove his phallus deep into her convulsing vagina.
The scream spilled from her lips at the fantastic conversion from a finger stirred orgasm to instant coital climax. One crest became the other and because his cock was only two inches into her vagina when she was already deep into the new orgasm, she drove herself down on the love spike.
Then, impaled well past the halfway point, because she could hold herself up no longer, she wilted to her back and let him take command of her cock speared body.
Ron did.
Clasping her hips to immobilize her slipping from their coital bind, he rocked slowly against her vagina's resistance. Looking across his front all he now could see of his sex partner were sleekly tapered thighs, spread to either side of his, a dark pubic triangle pointing to the meeting of her legs and there, driven between those shapely thighs, his horny prick. Nothing visible beyond her navel so far back was she bent. It could have been anybody he was fucking. For some reason that was a rationale he needed.
"I-uh ... take it ... take it ... yeah!" The rush of semen drove her over the climax brink with him and the moans of his anonymous playmate whispered sensuously around the room.
And then it was done and he was curled back in the position he had been before all the crazy, wonderful play had been started. By whom? Who knew? He'd been asleep the first time. This time ... well, he hadn't ever seen her face as they fucked, so it could have been any one of a million beautiful girls. '
"You're very restless tonight, Ron," Pamela murmured innocently in his ear, her warm body cupped to fit the curve of his back. "Are you dreaming a lot or something?"
"Or something," he muttered, squirming contentedly at their mutual hypocrisy. "Please be quiet. I've got a long trip to make tomorrow."
"Take this with you." Saucy fingers found their way past his hip, across his gut to where the spent cock lay limp on the curve of his upper thigh. For just a brief second the fingers were there, stroking the moisture of their mixed come passion. Then the fingers crept back across his hip.
"Mmmmhhh ... nice!" The sensuous sound of her lips on her fingers was the last he heard as sleep took him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Half a world away and three months later at precisely 5:05 p.m. in London, England, Mrs. Seymour Hanley was betraying her husband.
None of Ronald's moral confusions disturbed the cute brunette as she committed adultery. She had to supplement her marital love at home and Darrell Stewart, young head of E.U., London, had a very big supplement to offer.
She was maddened female on nude and sizzling display, writhing and moaning to the relentless assault of the freaky cock buried deep between her legs. It was its freakish length and insatiable need that drove Colette Hanley nearly mad with the want for five o'clock to come. Till then her love supplement was hidden in her boss's pants. Nine to five he was all business.
Her rich breasts ground feverishly against his taut chest and her lower body was flame and fire as she strained from the cushioned softness of the davenport to try to impale herself completely on his massive penis.
There was animal wildness in her eyes as she felt herself going again and she flailed frantically at their impromptu bed, trying to hold back her orgasm.
"Go, Colette! Go!" He pistoned his steel hard phallus demandingly now, feeling warning signs deep in his loins that he was about to come. Standard procedure for their every afternoon rendezvous in the room behind his office was for Darrell to hold his climax till she reached hers at least twice.
It was more of his private games of supremacy over all he touched. It was Darrell's career game as director of Energies Unlimited, London. It was his favorite game as conqueror exhibiting male supremacy over wildly desirable female. And superbly to be desired was Colette Hanley, every dazzling inch of her sensational body! With this female the supremacy game was even better, for Darrell Stewart. He was taking her and he was in the act winning another kind of victory over her husband. An added fillip to fuck so jealously guarded a property.
In his own eyes Darrell Stewart was something of a super male, hovering naked over a squirming bundle of golden, glorious married womanflesh, seeing her fully packed boobs heave in want of his lips on hardened nipples, watching wide hips roll and twist to force his coming, and still having the self control to hold off till he was ready.
"You're going to come!" Colette squealed it as she forced her buttocks from the cushion until they were mound against mound. Darrell sensed his day's game was about to be lost before her second cresting. Too soon!
"Not yet!" he gasped, planting his hands across the animated breasts and forcing her shoulders back. Then as he held her back against the cushions, he withdrew almost to the crown of his cock.
"Please ... not that way!" she pleaded when his fingers began a boob strumming accompaniment to his prick's teasing just inside the threshold of her cunt.
Darrell grinned at her desperation as he toyed the turgid nipples between thumb and forefinger, then leaned to suck leisurely at one while he caressed gently the swelling curve of the other. His fingers crept tenderly down the dramatic slops of her midriff and, ignoring her pleas, he forced a hand between their quivering bodies till he reached the point where his phallic shaft pierced tender pussy lips.
For a moment he pressed his fingertips against the quivering labia, then shifting, he grasped the nearly exposed shaft and pumped suggestively, his clenched fist pounding the hyper-sensitized pussy flesh as he simulated masturbation.
"Do it that way!" she hissed. "Jerk it off into me and prove you're a man who can do what no other man can."
"Huh?" He froze the fist play.
"No man can jerk off into a girl and keep his hard to go straight on into fucking."
"Says what authority?" demanded an intrigued Darrell, in spite of the torture of interrupted coitus.
"My husband Seymour, for one. He tried it again last night just like you started. You're smart to stop. He didn't and it took him half-an-hour to get it up again."
"You're lying," he accused, still gripping the thick root of his shaft.
"So ... you take the easy way out."
She squirmed against the barely lodged prick cap to bait him to return to coitus, knowing his reaction from years of play. "Eeehhh, I'm losing interest ... do something!"
He fingered the residue of her first spunking madness from his sopping shaft and reaching across her front, rubbed the sticky come across a taut nipple, while starting an impulsive masturbating of his cock. He'd show the witch!
It went just as he knew damned well it would. Her sexy frightened look was beautiful. He banged her tender vulva flesh with his pumping fist and at the same time rubbed the semen all around her breasts. He had her enslaved, she was sure he couldn't do it, but hoping he would. And he did.
The discharge of his masturbation shot and the hardness stayed. Fuck maddened, he pumped his prick full depth into the ecstatic vagina. Her cry bounced from paneled walls and dark hair tossed wildly, her arms snared round his neck while her lovely thighs cemented themselves to his hips as she surrendered to her climax.
The frenzy of her coming drove Stewart in a frantic effort to meet her climax with his own and as he pumped through the urgent thrusts that would take him to orgasm, the savage summons of the telephone sounded across the room.
"Damn!"
It was as if the ring triggered the end of the first act of their after-hours. Suddenly, violently, Stewart was ejacu lating. Flood on flood the semen jetted from his pistoning organ, spraying deep into the convulsing curvaceousness of his playmate.
"Yes ... oh, yes!" Neither heard the sound of the phone's repeated ringing as the madness raced through their pressed together bodies.
"God, that's beautiful," she whispered when their crests had passed and they lay quietly, holding tightly to each other, letting Colette's after spasms ripple from her tummy to his.
"Uhunnnnnh." He was less than appreciative and she knew why and loved it. He had lost his little game of supremacy in holding back till her second come and secretly she felt a glow of triumph taking him with her. Colette enjoyed her own supremacy bit ... over males and over other females. It was part of her reason for the play with two men every day, a kind of double supremacy to wilt the iron out of two cocks.
"So, what happened? You forgot the phone," he muttered in her ear. "You're supposed to hand it over to Answering Services at five, you know."
"I'm sorry." She stroked the smooth curve of his back, struggling for a way to jolt his slowly collapsing phallus to new appetite. "I forgot. I haven't made sense all day," she apologized. "All I could think of, even while I was taking your dictation, was how wonderful it would be if you would lose your cool and take me right there on your desk top."
There was a slight stiffening of the penis in her snug vagina as the word picture got through, but no movement of his body, no real sign he was ready to go again. And at that moment of glimmering hope the telephone again bleated nastily on his desk.
"Damnation!" exploded Darrell, his body going rigid as the ring repeated. "Go get it, Colette!"
"Please ... it's just Seymour, or else it's Answering checking to see if they should take over. It'll go away."
Simultaneously the phone sounded off again and with a snort of undisguised disgust, he propelled the brunette from the cushions with an impatient shove. "You know the Energies Unlimited rule. Someone's got to cover the phone. Get on it!"
A thoroughly frustrated Colette dashed across the' room, dark hair flying, breasts bounding. Just as she reached the side of Stewart's desk, in full view of the ante-room and Stewart, she stopped abruptly. Resigned to an end of her day's sex play, she perched at the corner of the desk, then, arms outstretched to accent her luscious front, she deliberately spread her dazzling nude body across the broad mahogany top and reached for the phone. Arching to accent her silken curves, she sighed, hesitated, and with her fingers inches from the receiver looked appealingly to her boss for mercy. , "Get the phone!" he snarled.
She lifted the phone and glared pouting at it for an instant. "Energies Unlimited-London office," she said sweetly into the hated instrument. As she spoke she rolled to her back to give the man on the couch a clear view while she fondled brazenly across the turn of her mons and toyed the bruised pussy flesh. "Mrs. Hanley speaking. ' May I help you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Hanley. This is Daniel Gelbert in White Plains, New York. I am an attorney at law."
"Yes, barrister. How may I help you, Mr. Gelbert?" She was barely aware of what she said as she saw a very aroused male storming at her from the back room into the office where sex was forbidden. Darrell's grotesquely long penis, swollen with fresh need, bounded in awkward leaps as he rushed at the nude sprawled across his desk. Just as he reached her, Colette rolled her back toward him and pretended delight to hear from the American attorney, ignoring the hard cock jabbing at the smoothly curved cushion of her ass.
"Why, Mr. Gelbert, as a matter-of-fact, we do have Mrs. Arthur Pringle due to arrive here tomorrow. She is to have our undivided attention at Energies Unlimited." Her voice went suddenly sultry as she felt herself pulled by the rough, demanding hands of a boss too hot for her body to hear anything but claims of his cock.
"Mr. Stewart is going to be sorry he missed your call. He just this minute left. Yes ... that's right, it's five o'clock over here."
Stewart positioned her quickly, dragging the shapely legs over the ledge till her toes touched the carpet. In one coordinated movement he had her bent in a helpless arc, thighs opened and cunt crack vulnerable to his first thrust. Colette couldn't resist the impulse this time to put off Mister Male Supremacist. A monumental resentment soared toward Darrell Stewart who moments before had kicked her off the couch and away from his cock. Now because it was his whim, he thought he was going to help himself to her. No way.
With devastating precision she simply crossed her thighs and sealed off his target, sliding from the desk in the same act and sticking her tongue out at an outraged boss.
"Damn it, girl, I want you!" he roared.
"What was that, Mrs. Hanley?" A perplexed Gelbert at plus-fifteen dollars toll a minute, was annoyed by the background sounds he heard. "Are you too busy with someone to speak with me?"
"Not at all. I'm not doing a thing that can't wait. Now, you say you have an unpleasant mission which could be profitable, if not nice, in connection with Mrs. Pringle?"
She listened intently as Dan Gelbert ran down the suspicions he had that she was playing fast and loose and in spite of an innocence of appearance, she was betraying a specific trust in her late husband's will.
An annoyance with this man 3,000 miles away already was surfaced in Colette's thoughts about the lawyer in America. He was blackening a stranger to a stranger in one or two fast minutes of conversation. She listened as he spelled out the breathtaking offer of fifty thousand pounds, if she could secure, during Mrs. Pringle's visit, evidence of her even once engaging in ... he coughed as i he hesitated to say it ... coitus, with someone other than Mr. Pringle.
"You say she is bringing an electronic device that she reported to be experimenting with at Energies Urdimitec stations round the world?"
"That's right." Gelbert sighed in pain at her behavior "She will likely try to, to put it quite succinctly, to seduce the number one man in your establishment."
"Oh, I doubt she could do that. Our Number One is very proper." Colette whispered into the phone, reaching for the grossly swollen cock belonging to the very man they were discussing transoceanic. "He's a shy type, never makes a pass at other girls. He'd be horrified if Mrs. Pringle did try that on him."
She wriggled against the embrace of her boss, then let him twist "her to face him. It was time to surrender and it was time to come to the defense of an unknown female someone was trying to destroy. The wanton Colette writhed against the prick that was already, impaling through her vulva and the resistance simply drove her instantly and nearly totally onto the eager cock.
"Ohhhh! Yes, Mr. Gelbert, I'm still here." She hated the stranger without even knowing him for his defaming another female just for having a little fun in her widowhood years. A phone call was untraceable and it was a wide open chance to get back with a little girl insolence to a man not unlike her boss.
"I'll keep a close eye on Mrs. Pringle, Mr. Gelbert. I don't want to mislead you. If I have my way, she'll do what perhaps she likes best." A shiver of pure nymphomania rippled down her spine. At this moment she was surrendered female, taking the possessed cramming of Darrell Stewart who was oblivious to her phone conversation; aware only of an unhinged demand seething in his gut to fill his personal secretary with cock.
He saw it as her own little put down, this pretense at a phone conversation. Stewart had watched her little female fantasies at winning even when she was being conquered, many times. This was only another. Throw the boss off with names like tomorrow's VIP arrival, or with pretending to talk to a New York lawyer. He'd show her. He snatched the phone from her hand and chuckled boldly into the receiver.
"Very, very cute, whoever you are!" He held the receiver away from Colette ignoring her startled protest that this was a legitimate call from overseas. "I'll bet you're legitimate, you put-on artist!" he roared at a startled Dan Gelbert in America. "About as legitimate as what I'm doing to Mrs. Hanley ... your nickels, whoever you are ... stay on and listen, if you want."
He tossed the phone to the side of the table with a howl of appreciation at his own takeover of the planned insult to his intelligence. No one but someone with whom Colette was well acquainted could have gotten her to carry on a hokey conversation like that while she seduced her boss. Easy to arrange, too; they were intimate ever day at five-oh-five.
"Want to hear something?" he yelled at the phone "Hear cute Colette getting it on the side. It's an illicit thing ... adultery, you might say ... about as licit a your phone call."
A dumbstruck and delighted Colette rode with the sudden shocking turn of events, even as she rode the pile driving thrusts of the brash young boss of Energies Unlimited, London. He was humping urgently against her yielding, clutching quim, trying to hurry her. It was one of those rare accidents of misjudgment on his part.
He always was the man in charge, forcing her to at least two orgasms to his one. That was not his doing; it was hers, but his ego needed that trip nearly every day. But now hers needed the pride of transoceanic female supremacy. She stretched for the phone and held it close to the meeting of cock and cunt, transmitting moist urgent sounds of driven male flesh colliding with soft, inviting, female pussy.
"Hear that, Mr. Gelbert? You've chosen the right office in which to trap your loose lady. She'll be with people like me, adulteresses and horny bosses and crazy Britishers who just like to give each other what-for."
She ground against Stewart, tightening her vagina muscles to trigger his ejaculation. "Oh, dear me, Mr. American barrister! You are going to hear some terrible sounds ... Mr. Stewart ... he's about ... about to discharge semen into me ... oh, dear! ... godddddhhh!"
A completely spellbound Dan Gelbert, whipped to erection by the clear sounds of the long distance copulation, listened breathlessly to the fever in London. It was sensational! Too way out to be anything but exactly the way it was. An unplanned office caper, handed to him on a platter. He met the orgasm cries from three thousand miles away with his own savage, handmade climax, then sagged heavily back into his chair.
There was a dead line when he lifted the phone to his ear again. With a bemused smile he replaced the receiver. His informant had been right. Mrs. Colette Hanley was a very hot package with an incomparable love of sex. To actually do it in conversation with a third party!
He wondered if she would come around to decide that fifty thousand pounds sterling was worth putting aside the hostility that bristled at him from her at the other end. She could hate his guts for all he cared, but if plus one hundred thou would lure her to give him proof that Pamela Pringle was doing what was rumored on the field trip, it was cheap at the price.
Gelbert rubbed fat paws together with open glee at the irrational encounter by phone. He could see nineteen million dollars reverting to the estate executor just because a hungry nymph like Colette would quickly come to hate anyone like Pamela toying with the chief of England's Energies Unlimited.
"Collision course!" Gelbert slapped his palms together with sheer delight. "Two broads, one horny boss and Dan-boy, you'll get your tapes and photos and the whole schmeer in one envelope!"
"Look, I know what you're doing and, Pammy, you're beautiful! But, damn you, it's dangerous."
"No more after this stop, Ronnie. I promise." She cuddled close to his side in their suite at the Breckinridge. "Don't you guess I might have saved a bunch of marriages? Maybe given some nice guys a chance to live longer?"
He sighed. "I'll buy. Let's see, fourteen stops in three months. Do you realize you're batting a thousand? Every one of the field chiefs is a different guy. Got his priorities flat straightened out by one dumb blonde named Pamela."
"That could get you fired...." She swatted at his shoulder and slid from their TV intimacy on the loveseat. "I must be getting old. I actually heard what that announcer said on BBC just before I came."
The hand on her backside was more caress than a slap. "Not old, dear one, just spent." Ron's arms were extended and she wilted into his lap. "I did lots of thinking on the last stop in Paris. There's about to be some changes made."
"Now?" Pam's eyes danced expectantly. "You mean you're going to renounce that old moral/legal stand ... tonight?"
He shook his head. "Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. But next week after I'm sure you haven't tired of the whole thing between us, I may have an official pronouncement."
"Sounds very stuffy," she pouted. "Very British. Everything so stinking orderly. Wonder what this Darrell Stewart, Esquire is like? I know he's got a wife ready to divorce him for absenteeism."
"Par for Energies Unlimited course, if you ask me." He shook his head. "Wish you'd scratch this last one.. I'm not saying you're anything like Miss Goody Two shoes for what you're trying to do, but it's like nineteen million dollars dangerous."
"It's my only fun," she teased. "I've got this big, sturdy bodyguard who falls right off to sleep at night anymore. What's a girl to do to find relief?"
It was only half facetious. Every night after that first charade of a sleeping Ron and a restless Pamela assaulting his erection, they had run the same course. It was getting a little old and felt a little childish that this was their only answer to desire, when both knew they loved each other.
It was precisely at 12:46 p.m. the next day that Colette knew the man waiting for Mrs. Arthur Pringle was masturbating. She knew the time because the Energies Unlimited digital clock was center front, over the entry to her office. Put there to remind employees that time was of the essence.
Colette was absolutely intrigued. This Ronald DeWitt was a handsome, powerfully built devil, introduced as Mrs. Pringle's friend and bodyguard. That last, Colette had taken as-hardly facetious. If her strange conversation with that American attorney Gelbert made any sense at all, she needed a bodyguard!
At first Colette thought she was seeing things. The man was obviously a man for all seasons, cosmopolitan, groomed, handsome and with so sizzling a stack job as Pamela Pringle! No way he needed to excite himself over a British brunette, no matter how proud Colette was of her own contour power. But Ronald DeWitt was glancing nervously at the digital over the door, then at his own wristwatch and finally, surreptitiously studying Colette in her highly visible typing location as he did it.
That was a bit of her own doing. Placing her typewriter stand, her chair and not a thing else on a slightly raised platform away from her executive desk and files. She was on all day display perched prettily on the rigid secretarial seat, wearing that atrociously brief miniskirt and the breast-molding blouse. It was wonderful the way visitors waiting on Darrell tried to steal looks between her legs as she stood, or cased her every torridly displayed enticement.
And not only male visitors. Even females were shaken by Colette's tasteful but daring office costume. Like Pamela. Pringle. Colette could tell in an instant when a woman appreciated a woman. There was that brief excitement in Pam's eye and there was that little hint of more.
Very few females liked Colette. She simply had too much sexuality. Fewer still were overt in their positive attraction to her on an innocent open girl-to-girl admiration. Pamela was one. In just the fleeting touch of their fingers as they shook hands as Darrell introduced them, Pamela conveyed that attraction. A brief, hardly perceptible curling of Pam's fingertips alone the tips of Colette's as they clasped hands. Their eyes met and Pamela smiled at Colette's lips. It said it all.
Fabulous female communication. Pam, without a word, said to Colette, "I think you are cute as a bug. I'd like to caress you." And she said more, still without a word. "I'm all that American lawyer said. I'm a very nice girl, but I'll probably be seducing your boss inside the hour."
Strangely Colette had accepted that truth quite happily. She loved competition for Darrell. Pamela was more beautiful and more disgustingly curvaceous ... but Colette had her own considerable arsenal for keeping Darrell and for keeping a happy home with her .husband, too. For almost an hour Colette had gone through the motions of keeping an office, wondering about the two who had disappeared together into Darrell's office.
Had that creepy Gelbert been right about her using some sort of Energasm unit to go straight to the seduction of Energy Unlimited chiefs around the world?
Did he really mean that offer of fifty thousand pounds to get the goods on Pamela?
Colette shivered excitedly. Why, after just a moment's conversation, did she feel first name familiarity with Pamela Pringle? Liking her instantly was one thing, but to actually get pinpricks of erotic excitement over another woman was not her track record. And to privately hope, in fact, that she was going to make it with Darrell ... Colette, you have to be losing your bloody mind, she scolded herself.
And now this weird twist while she waited. An Adonis of a traveling companion for Pamela, athletically built, looking every bit the normal one, actually stimulating himself while he sat alone in her office, pretending to read the London Times. She had seen most everything in runaway responses to her scant garb at the typing stand-but this was a first. One she simply couldn't ignore.
She pushed back the stiff-backed secretarial chair, faked him out with a pretend turn toward the wall away from him, then swivelled suddenly. It caught him off guard, as she had hoped. Very unmistakably she caught the crimson glow of an exposed cock crown, peeking out the side of the Times as he fondled himself.
She had a very bad time that fractured instant of seeing. She glimpsed more than swollen cap-a stud length had to be attached for the tip to be visible at the edge of the paper.
Fighting the excitement, she stepped with apparent detachment to the powder room at the far end of her office. Regal, head high, breasts surging proudly as she strolled, no! strutted in spike-heeled splendor. Conscious of her mini-skirt creeping to the edge of her ass cheek as she moved, she walked past an enchanted Ronald. In the powder room she quickly peeled her underpanties and seconds later returned to the typing desk. Time for the next check of his lust.
She somehow found strength not to peek till she had finished typing the letter, but when she was ready, she dipped her head as if looking for something in the shallow paper drawer under the IBM. Ron saw a sexy lock of dark hair tumble loosely across her forehead, obscuring her vision as she peered into the drawer, and then he glimpsed an altogether overwhelming sight. Scrooching down in her chair, exclaiming to herself in mild exasperation as if some object she sought was missing, she twisted more to look into the depths of the drawer. Fantastic need swept Ronald as her shapely legs coiled out from under the typing stand, slightly parted.
Just enough to hike the miniskirt the wonderful inch that revealed her cock crazing pantiless state. He tried not to stare, but the magic of the dark pubic triangle and the inescapable clear view of her sex cleft struck him like a free-running bolt of erotic lightning.
That quickly the last vestiges of his impotence were shattered. The vibrations that had come from the inner office of the London head of Energies Unlimited left Ron no doubt that within half-an-hour of sequestering with Darrell Stewart, Esquire, Pamela was enjoying another act of copulation with another overeager young exec of the company that killed her husband.
Stewart had to be driving Pammy come-crazy! The feel of her rapture riddled through Ron's very proper navy blue Brooks Brothers suit and drove him hard and wild to handle himself. It was then that the transfer to the gorgeous Colette crept in and began to take over the vibes from the woman he now knew he loved.
The terrible impotence was over. Ronald DeWitt was a full and free man again. No fixation on some look-a-like to the woman who had begun his fifteen year trap of being as good as neutered. That he knew had caused the moral dilemma he'd wrestled with over Pamela, that she alone for these months had turned him on where no other girls were able. Till now.
Barely able to keep his seat, Ron gaped at the inadvertent display of Colette's most secret self. Her whole enticing body was now clawing for his attention and he blessed his luck the spill of dark hair across her eyes as she bent gave him voyeuring time. He thought! Through the cascade of pretty brunette hair a pair of dancing green eyes watched his performance.
Electrified by Colette's sexuality and by his own reawakening to full manhood, he dropped the Times for one careless second and exposed the might and power of his stallion length. It was almost as if he had no power to resist advertising his monumental erection and while Colette felt her grip on the man, she didn't understand. All she knew was that she was privy to a peek at a phallus fully two inches longer than proud Darrell's.
She straightened in secretarial primness and sat studying her half-typed letter. A trembling hush gripped the room. They were the only two people in the world at that moment. Their thoughts of each other were centered in the magic each had seen of the other's sexual secret.
She saw the arm begin to move behind the Times the instant she typed her first word again and it was that that made up Colette's mind.
"Can I bring you a cup of coffee, Mr. ... er, DeWitt, is it?" She was already en route to the coffee silex and Ron was barely able to comprehend her question as he pumped furiously to try to finish while her back was to him.
"Yeah ... oh, yes ... nice," he choked as he swept the paper across the evidence barely in time as she looked over her shoulder.
Stunning and wonderful. A man that age with those looks and an uncontrollable heat that would make him take a chance like that over her! It was too much to let go and she had her battle plan in motion before she reached him.
"I'll just put that right on this end taaabb ... ohhh!"
The steaming coffee stung like a thousand bees, biting through the Brooks Brothers blue just below his crotch, barely missing the turbulent erection. In one savage instant of total exposure she tore the paper away, revealing his naked cock gripped so tightly in his fist that his knuckles were white.
The office spun round Ron's head like a merry-go-round run amuck. Rainbow colors of red and purple, green and orange slowly settled to two shades of yellow atop white ... the colors of the secretary's white leather miniskirt and booby-hugging yellow blouse.
He simply sat and stared at the smile on her face. She was anything but angry and her laughing eyes said so. Her study crept from his lips to his chest, down to his groin, and focused on the collapsed phallus. It had to be a dream, he thought. Any moment that carefree look would vanish and become a scream.
"I have just the thing to take care of coffee stains," she said, soberly fingering the dark splotch just below a ropy penis. No sign she even saw it. "It's very big over here in England ... they call it Energesto Cleaning Fluid. Oh, but of course you know that. Mrs. Pringle is part of the firm, isn't she?"
Ron's hand crept across the satiny smoothness of the Quiana-covered shoulder and didn't answer. Very deliberately he traced a fine from the base of her exquisitely feminine throat to the sexy lovelock curling at the side of a delicate earlobe. If it destroyed him he had to find out. Now, with this stranger at his knees and with no thoughts of Pamela to trigger a hard-on, he had to try. His fingertip tracked a line across the chiseled beauty of her Anglo features. At her lips he paused and traced back over them again. Thin, he thought, that's her British heritage, but how they could work on a man!
His limp phallus stirred and crept toward Colette's fingers, still resting lightly on the coffee markings on his slacks. Holding his breath lest she declare his inventory finished, he let his fingers drift through the rich darkness of her hair, following the curl of one long lock down across her shoulder to the point it reached. Her right breast.
It was utter fascination to Colette to watch the penis stretch. Snake-like, determined, swelling swiftly at the tip to force the foreskin quickly to the back, wrinkling beyond the protruding ledge. God, what a ledge on the man! To take that cap through her cunt lips would be maddening.
His fingers were curled under her breast curve, toying upward to stroke the' nipple which stood taut and visible against the soft bra. She gasped when he persisted the cherry tease and her exclamation said it all. She liked his fingering.
She liked more.
Her face was turned from his to stare in visible awe at his fully developed hard-on. Impetuously, because there was the power of a thousand stallions dragging her to do it, Colette leaned forward and kissed it. Slow, excruciating sexual kiss! And when she lifted her head to look into his eyes, a droplet of semen sparkled on her lower lip. One lonely droplet, but the herald of a million more.
"Please?" His body ground forward in urgent underlining of his need.
"Not here ... there." She gestured with a toss of her head toward the inner sanctum of Darrell Stewart. "Someone will see us out here."
"Ohmigod ... no!" It was all on the line, that fast.
He would hardly need fear embarrassment, stumbling into the presence of two he knew were at least two orgasms ahead of them already. But there in this plush London executive office of Energies Unlimited his moral/legal dilemma over what to do about Pamela was going to come to a head. He had absolutely no doubt that his love was at this moment copulating with Darrell. He would see. He would be obligated to report it.
With a shuddering sigh, he shoved from the deep soft leather of the chair and, grabbing Colette's hand, pulled her into the only concealment of the outer office. In the little corner blocked from view from the outer hall, he stripped her and himself, finally decided it was going to have to be now, not later, where he tested his love for Pammy.
Colette ... darling, wanton, enticing Colette flung her arms around the startling male giant from America and wrapped him tight to her nudity before letting him move. She, too, was summoning courage for the finally arrived moment of truth with Darrell. He had never seen her lust for another man. She never had seen him in the arms of another woman. The roof could blow from the top floor of 19 Heath Row, London, England, at any second.
"Gotta tell you something before we go," gasped Ron, holding the warm, luscious body close, even as he felt the collapse of his cock. In terse direct words he spat out the years of deadly despair over his loss of manhood, the finding of it through Pamela and then the savage demand of his contract to report Mrs. Arthur Pringle, should she ever be seen in intercourse. When he had finished the sputtering rundown of disaster, he was sure she would break their embrace and turn for her clothes.
Her arms tightened behind his back and she giggled She actually giggled! "You and I are in the same dumb boat," she whispered. "I stand to make a real killing if see what you're afraid to see. You really love her, don't you?"
He nodded. "What do you mean, you stand to make a killing?"
In even fewer words than his confession, Colette told of her temptation from the American lawyer named Gelbert. "To tell you the truth, I've been tempted. A hundred thousand of your dollars would go far over here."
"Why don't you?" he growled. "Fats Gelbert, we call him back home. You'll have to go to White Plains to try to collect it and you'll have to sit in his pudgy lap to earn it, but he's got a lot of dough riding on your bringing him word that she'd done it ... broken the demand of her husband's will."
"The demand of a dead man?"
"Does it matter?" Ron felt the weird stirring deep in his loins and a peculiar lightness drifted through his mood. "But you're right, he is dead."
"And you are alive." Her fingers drifted insolently between their taut tummy flesh. "Or at least you used to be So since when does fife get ruled by something dead and gone? Never, unless you have a kind of secret yearning to be where Arthur Pringle is yourself."
"That's a goddamned lie!" he snorted, clutching her almost desperately to himself and feeling the crawling of his prick," inflating, lifting, pushing against her sleek thighs. "I wished it once a long while ago, but now I want to live and I want to love."
"Only her?" Colette wriggled saucily against the steely shaft of his cock, reaching under to heft the loaded balls and steer the upraised barrel to a demanding diagonal across her pulsing pubes.
Ron tilted the cute face up toward his and bent to kiss the parted lips. "I love only her. That's how it's going to be always and always. But maybe the eunuch years have twisted my thinking, but I feel like I can maybe have fun with others, long as she's there. And you know something?"
"Tell."
"I really want to see her getting it from another man. The whole damned thing is beginning to make sense to me. While I kidded myself about some damned moral/legal dilemma, I really wanted to see her do it. But not to turn her in to Fats. Just to see her having a good time in that super-sexed chassis."
"Ready?"
"Wait a second." Ron broke their tight embrace and leaned back a full arm's length from the torrid lure of delicious Colette. "I want to feel for the vibes."
She crossed her arms over her middle and hugged herself in a futile effort to still the building frenzy for him. "Can you really tell when she's doing it?"
"It's true. I can tell you right now she's building up to climax."
"How? Intercourse?"
"What else?" He gripped her hand fiercely and bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead. "You are in very big trouble in case you want to run."
, "Ooooohhh, I hope so." She turned the door handle and stepped into the sensual near darkness of Darrell Stewart's office.
Pamela was locked in happy oblivion to the muscled nakedness of Darrell's body. She was a vision of possessed loveliness as she writhed to his demanding thrusts. When he drove downward and her lush body took the horniness of his cockflesh, she seemed to squirm in agony against the deep pile of the office rug.
It was Darrell who saw the intruders first. Prick fully buried in Pamela's vagina, he stiffened in shock at the sight of a nude Colette gripping the naked phallus of the friend Pamela had brought to his office with her.
"Take me ... harder!" moaned Pammy, wriggling like a succulent slave on the end of her master's organ, long-gone in orgasms. The visible strength in the playmate Colette had dared to bring to his presence and the unabashed worship he saw in her eyes for the newcomer stopped the animal fury bubbling in Darrell before it really started. As they dropped to the floor beside him, Darrell coiled his brawny body across Pamela's to block her seeing the uninvited guests.
"Damned crazy world!" he muttered, urging a possessed one on through her orgasm and trying to ignore the caress of Colette's hand across the curve of his ass as he drove at Pamela.
Ron was slow and deliberate in his pre-play with the ravishing brunette. He seemed intent on discovering all the fabulous wonders of a new female body and he moved with infinite torture from breast to breast, to curve of hip and finally to the intoxicating lure of her vulva.
It was as he was burrowed between Colette's fabulous thighs, nuzzling curiously into the fluttering, tenderness of her pussy flesh, that Pamela's world began to refocus. As the orgasm blur cleared, she saw the beautiful bodies beside her and a cry of surprise broke from her lips. No sign that Ron or Colette heard her outcry. Or that they cared, if they did.
She stared at the preoccupation of the man she loved kissing the yearning venus flesh of the beautiful Colette. His back was half turned and his leg crossed over so she couldn't see his crotch. But there was a taut pulsing excitement to all his body as he kissed and nibbled the baby-soft excitement of Colette's cunt threshold.
"Mmmhhh yess!" He splayed the labial gates open to study the stiffened nubbin of a very excited clitoris. With tantalizing purposefulness he burrowed to pucker to the aroused clit and Darrell stared at the passion madness in Colette's expression. She was in a seventh heaven of desire that dazed and claimed and made her nearly maniacal in wanting cock ... and contented her at the same instant. It was a seduction technique Darrell never had had time for. For his play with this gorgeous creature he had rarely done more than strip and take her. He felt a crawling jealousy of the competition in Ronald's sleekly sophisticated, unplanned seduction of Colette.
It unfolded before Pamela in sudden savage reality. Unable to wait longer against the sultry pleading of a now desperate Colette, Ron shifted to mount her. There in one spearing, outspoken length was the truth Pam expected, but feared. Ron was on fire for another woman. She watched his tumescent cock disappear inch by inch into the welcome of Colette's body. She literally felt the arrogant demand of his prick in her own vagina.
They molded as one body and the lovely perfection of the dark-haired voluptuary sent curious shudders of desire through Pam, as she Watched. Smoothly feminine arms and legs, straining breasts and parted lips all conspired in the chemistry of Pamela's wanting. Breaking the clasp that had tightened as Darrell shot his load, Pam wriggled free, marveling that for the first time she, could remember, a man's phallus had discharged its wealth in her body and she felt no excitement.
The excitement was beside her. Easing slowly across the inches that separated them, she wrapped an arm across the power in Ron's shoulders and hugged lightly. Very briefly their eyes met and she saw no shame. He was doing what he had to do and she could think of no one she would rather see him with in this moment of self-discovery.
Colette's eyes were dark circles of want as she took his probing hugeness deep in her vagina. Her climax snatched her from the rest of them and she writhed in happy oblivion as Ron drove her hard against the floor beneath the pile carpet. When she finished she was bent and twisted in a delectable crescent of striving womanflesh, her supple, jungle-like femaleness on devastating display.
Ron still had not come. He shoved to his palms to hover over her. The massive prick driven only halfway into her cunt lips was a formidable bludgeon, buried in an enchantingly cock-inflamed girl. Pamela caught her breath at the sight, remembering a moment not that long ago when a neighbor boy with an outsized organ had pinned her the same way. She remembered the passion of the woman who had come upon their copulation and the memory made her dare the move.
"Baby ... whaaa...." Ron stiffened in surprise as he saw Pam nudge between his body and Colette's.
Lovely shimmer of platinum silver spilling sexily across the dark triangle of Colette's pubic down. A slight pout in Pam's expression as she puckered a kiss, first to the wide-stretched labia and then to the turgid cock barrel. Warm, dizzying drool of her saliva as she licked in abandon, up and then down the thick length of indriven phallus.
"Fuck her, Ronnie," begged a distant voice, scarcely distinguishable as Pamela's. "I want to feel you fuck this beautiful person."
It was unhinged sax-driven madness. It was sheer beauty. In the most ungodly awkward position for coitus, deeply arched and supported by his hands, Ron hovered over Colette, copulating like a possessed, perfervid robot while Pamela licked them both. A spellbound Darrell Stewart gawked at the mystique, of three pleasure-maddened bodies locked in a swiftly mounting coital crescendo.
"Gonna ... have ... to ... ohhhh, yeahhh!" Ronald was all at once a trembling hulk of climax-claimed male. He tried to plow at the writhing Colette and deepen the orgasm that held her, but all he could do was pulse in the paralysis of his ejaculation frenzy.
The seething paroxysm of his climax exploded in sudden frantic heat for instant coitus with his beloved. Flinging an arm out to Stewart, Ron dragged the violently aroused onlooker across Colette's trembling frame. Then with a little cry of impatience, he threw himself at Pamela's very ready body.
In happy-go-lucky passion he possessed her and she possessed him. For nearly an hour they vented their need for unpretending copulation with no one in their world but themselves. And finally it was quiet in the London office of Energies Unlimited. She cupped in the hollow of his arm and snugged close to his hip.
"How did you finally decide you could?" Pam whispered, not wanting her voice to intrude on the new play erupting between Darrell and Colette.
"She showed me the way." He twisted to watch the antics beside them. "Made me realize I'd been an ass about dilemmas and all that ... look...." He lowered his voice. "We're going to go back home ... hole up in Windamere and the hell with Energies, Fats and the whole wide world."
"He'll never bother checking, if we keep it that way. Just you'n me." Pamela felt a thickening penis stirring in her vagina.
"Why are you so sure?"
She giggled happily as she squirmed against a reawakening cock. "Didn't I see a medical paper in your wallet that says you can't ... you know what I mean ... f ... u ... c...."
"Shhh!" His finger darted to her lips. "Ladies aren't supposed to know that word."
"I didn't." She urged against the invading flesh. "Not till today."
