Georgia watched Windy intently from across the room, amazed at her friend's perseverance and patience. The man reminded her of a giant white whale, but Georgia was determined to share her experienced friend's delight. She quickly stood up, emboldened by desire, and caught his eye. This was her opportunity to get into the action. Georgia gasped, choking off a moan of delight. The scene was getting her all mushy between the legs. She certainly didn't want to do anything to kill Windy's chances of bringing him to a climax. After all, this wasn't her means of support and it was Windy's. Georgia had just come along for the thrill of playing prostitute for a night-she certainly didn't need the money.
As it turned out, Georgia had satisfied her partner in fifteen minutes, was paid, saw him out, and returned to watch Windy struggle to bring "Fatso" to a climax. Even as an amateur prostitute Windy was far more experienced than Georgia could be-with her twice-a-week practice. But then Georgia never gave much thought to satisfying a man-she only thought of her own pleasure.
Windy sucked the small, hard pecker into her mouth, swished it from cheek to cheek with her tongue, tickled the tip and sucked some more, while her hand, buried between the mounds of his sweaty, flabby, buttocks, played enticingly with his ass-hole.
Windy danced her tongue up his mountainous belly and tried to get the little dick between the lips of her soft, warm cunt, knowing how much he wanted it there. But his huge belly prevented her from even getting it close. She continued the tongue trip up his stomach to his nipples and sucked on them while her beautiful body moved sensuously over his flab-firm tits pressed into soft blubber and shapely legs playing between his while he lay there motionless.
"Mmmmmm-you're soft and warm," she cooed.
"I'll fuck the ass off you," he groaned back, fighting to maintain his dignity in spite of the depressing performance he was giving.
"Mmmmm...you're sexy," she purred. "Kiss my pussy and I'll make you come like never before."
Without waiting for an answer, she positioned herself over his head, facing his stomach, then lowered her ass close to his face and stopped so he could view her backside, her cunt and then up her stomach, where his vision would end at the perfectly shaped breasts. She could feel his hot, puffing breath on her legs, her ass and finally her pussy as she carefully lowered herself onto his drooling mouth.
The sight and smell of her in this position set off sparks in his balls. He spread the-smooth, matched globes of flesh and poked the buttonhole with a finger. She wiggled for him, which drove him mad with desire. He licked the little bud and tried to get a finger in while her fingers reached down and began toying with his cock, her ass wriggling invitingly on his finger. Saliva oozed from the corners of his mouth at the prospect of this tasty morsel. He then buried his lips in the soft triangle of hair and she, encouraging him, went a little wild. He sucked and licked the moist, hot lips, then parted them with the tip of his tongue and drove the slippery slab of meat up into her, sipping the nectar from the velvet walls.
Windy just sat on his face, luxuriating in the pause that put him to work for a while and simply clutched his pecker in her fist to keep it stiff. She noticed that every time she wiggled her ass there was a faint throb of excitement in his "pimple," so she used the wiggle to reward him when he did something she liked.
Meanwhile, he was going out of his mind with all the sensations she lavished on him: ass in his face, tits on his belly, hand on his cock and the complete freedom to do anything to her body he wanted-but at the same time he was nagged by the frustration of not coming. His tongue swirled around the honey-lined walls of her cunt, his nose was buried in her ass-hole and his eyes were filled with the soft, smooth round cheeks of ass-flesh ; all his daily daydreams brought to life at once-and he couldn't come! The pain in his balls, which held the hot lava that screamed to get out, was getting unbearable. He tore the globes of ass-flesh apart, tongued her tight buttonhole, shot back to her cunt, then back to her ass, in feverish succession, trying to explode the come from his balls by violently penetrating her body with his tongue. It only built up more pressure in his balls and he was sure they'd blow out like a pricked balloon.
Windy had a wild orgasm in the process, losing herself to the striking snake that one minute reamed her ass and the next minute swept into the depths of her stomach. She desperately tried to catch it in either place, to lock in the sensation while she had the orgasm, but the slippery serpent always wormed away and plunged into the other opening. A different thrill swept up to her brain each time, sending chills through her body.
"Ohhh, man, you're too much," she sighed, melting with exhaustion.
"Make me come. Please make me come," he whimpered helplessly.
"After that, I'll set that stick of dynamite off with a blast you'll never forget," she said, almost forgetting that he was paying for the privilege.
Georgia was squirming and grinding her own itching cunt into a pillow she'd stuffed between her legs. But now she saw her opening. Windy was getting off him and Georgia was determined to have that tongue. She caught his eye, then ran her hands sensuously over her breasts and down her stomach to the damp bush, eyeing him longingly, tantalizing him with her dancing fingertips. He was intrigued with the sight of her playing with her own sex pot.
"Mmmmm...I wish I had a man like you to lick me like that," she teased.
Windy was beautiful, but Georgia was a goddess-and it was easy to get him to take notice in his hour of desperation.
"You hold him down, Georgia, while I give him a Hawaiian blow job," Windy said with a wink.
What's a 'Hawaiian blow job?' Georgia wondered, but didn't waste any time on the unanswered question. She quickly straddled his face while Windy scurried to the bathroom and returned with a glass of warm water.
The victim hadn't even realized Windy had left the room because his whole attention was focused on the milk-white skin above him. This is an orgasm just to see, he thought-a living, marble statue, without a blemish or mark anywhere. And a fragrance more delicious than a sizzling steak, he thought.
He could feel Windy's hand on his cock again, but right now preferred to devour Georgia with his eyes. He spread her cheeks and gazed at the little sunburst there with the amazement of a little boy seeing his first. He licked it...licked the smooth orbs of flesh, the crack, the sunburst again and then the moist lips of her honey-jar with the slow, savoring licks of a man who appreciates good food.
Windy positioned herself between his legs, gently massaging his stiff organ while she watched and waited for Georgia to get her share of the slippery tongue. Georgia smiled at her, then closed her eyes dreamily as she felt the tingle of his first penetration into her rear entrance-a slow, wicked entering of wet, living meat delving into her tongue-virgin anus. She opened herself and helped the invading tongue to reach the depths of her tight tunnel by sucking it with the strong muscles there. Then it slid out and she groaned when it slithered between her longing, drooling cunt lips and crept into the depths of her stomach.
Meanwhile, Windy kept track of the increasing tempo, watching throbbing cock, gasping cunt and tingling ass-hole. When all three pulsed faster and faster, she took the glass of warm water and filled her mouth with as much as she could hold. Georgia was reaching the peak, with gurgling, animal sounds coming from deep in her throat Windy decided it was now or never. She pressed her tight lips to the head of his penis, holding in the warm water by carefully forcing the cock into her mouth like a cork. Georgia screeched with delight as she experienced her first orgasm with his tongue in the tight grip of her rectum. Then she reached her second climax, this time letting his tongue go free from the grasp of her cunt.
"Aaaahhh.. . " the giant whale bellowed as the sensation of his prick entering the wall of warm water reached his brain. Windy's lips tightly gripped the base of the shaft. Warm water trickled out of the sides of her mouth and down his balls, while his cock was held suspended in water.
He came!
Shooting his come into a mouth of water was a sensation he'd never experienced before. And with each blast of cream, a stream of warm liquid trickled down his balls to the crack of his ass, jerking his balls into a knot and making him fire again. And again. And again...
When they were finally alone in the hotel room, Windy talked Georgia into sharing a shower with her. Georgia was reluctant but went along with the idea when Windy started making fun of her Puritan upbringing. They were both naked anyway, Georgia thought, so why not?
"You're all uptight, Georgia," Windy said, as they stood facing each other with the needles of hot water on Georgia's back. "I'm not queer or anything. Honest. It's just more fun for two people in a shower than it is alone. Shit, we used to have a ball in the dorm...oh, I forgot...the schools you went to had private baths."
"Okay, knock off the 'rich kid' crap."
"Sure, but you'll never be your own person if you insist on living with all those hang-ups."
They switched places and Georgia started to soap herself. "You seem to enjoy the work you're doing," she said, changing the subject.
"Not really. I enjoy balling with guys I like, but not with the customers."
"You could have fooled me, the way you worked on Fatty," Georgia commented.
"Shit, I worked my ass off until he started that tongue treatment...and I don't have to tell you what that felt like. But other than that and the fact that it was a challenge getting that little pimple of his to work, I can think of other things I'd rather be doing."
"That's the trouble, sex is getting to be a bore."
"Don't tell Kit that. She met a Frenchman who's supposed to be out of this world."
"Please, not another 'Super Dick.' I'm tired of trying these studs who are supposed to be the living end. Usually they're egomaniacs who put on a show...and not even a good show."
"Turn around and I'll soap your back."
Reluctantly Georgia turned, but didn't like the idea. It was either turn or get more criticism; so she turned. The feel of girl-fingers on her back gave Georgia a chill.
It's weird, she thought, how another girl's touch makes me feel more feminine than ever. Not sexual, she kept telling herself. Just more feminine.
Then Windy paused to lather up her hand again and Georgia thought she was finished. She flushed pink all over when Windy's fingers came back, this time on her ass. The slow, dainty motions on her sensitive derriere activated the juices in her pussy and left her speechless. Windy's fingers didn't miss a spot, either. A soapy finger even popped into the tight opening and went in about the length of a knuckle.
"Now you soap me," Windy's voice broke the spell.
They changed places again and while Georgia rinsed off the suds from her back she trembled all over, almost dropping the soap trying to lather her hand for Windy's back. She tried not to let Windy know that this whole thing was having an effect on her but by the time she reached the bikini line, where the color of Windy's skin was so much whiter, she was sure her trembling hand was noticeable. She took a deep breath and tried to return the same gentle strokes she had received. This whole idea was making her lightheaded and dizzy, but she continued. Finally she reached the finger-in-the-button-hole point, paused and entered-just up to the knuckle...
"Mmmmm...shove it all the way up, Georgia. I love having my ass invaded."
Georgia followed the instructions and ran her soapy finger all the way up the dark tunnel, somewhat surprised at how easy the soap made it to penetrate the tight opening.
She twisted her finger and Windy squeezed it with the strong muscles there.
"Pop it out fast-mmmmm, that's it-great! Now, wasn't that fun?" Windy asked, passing her again to rinse off.
Is that it? Georgia wondered, as she watched Windy's pixie movements under the spray. Is that all? Nothing sexual, of course, but it's over just when it starts to be fun.
"I went to an all-girl school," Windy chatted as though it was nothing, "and we did this all the time. Front and back. Best thing for your nerves. Really relaxes you...especially if you can finish with an orgasm."
"I-I've never tried it-before."
"There's nothing like humping away with some guy you're really flipped over. But those guys are few and far between. And a man can get his jollies dry-humping in a crowded subway-so why shouldn't girls get their jollies?"
"Sounds like you're giving a speech for women's lib."
"Not really. But why not? Just as long as it's not trying to do away with men, I'll go along with it. How about it? You want your front soaped?"
"Why not?"
Windy smiled and took the soap. "You've got a great body, Georgia. Don't let it go to waste through boredom. Talk to Kit Donovan about that Frenchman."
But by now Georgia's thoughts were swimming with the sensation of slithering fingers on her breasts-then her own fingers on Windy's breasts and hard nipples quivering in her palms-a gentle hand oozing between her legs, toying, teasing at her panting cunt lips. Georgia hesitated before delving into the mystery of Windy's bush. She'd never touched another girl there. She moved cautiously. But it was all a pleasant softness. The two girls probed each other with their fingers while their free hands ran freely over each other's body, each having a dreamy orgasm.
On the way back to Windy's apartment, on New York's fashionable East Side, Georgia began questioning her about Kit's friend.
"I really don't know that much about him," Windy admitted. "Kit talks about him all the time, but it confuses me. As I understand it, he's the greatest lover in town, but get this-Kit hasn't gone to bed with him yetP'
"Then how the hell does she know he's the best stud around?"
"Well as I understand it, he doesn't just climb in the sack and slip it to you; he actually spends weeks preparing you for the ac."
"Forget it!"
"I'm just telling you what Kit told me. However, after this training you're really supposed to be conditioned to enjoy sex for the rest of your life."
"Now I've heard everything."
"I really wish you would talk to Kit about this. There must be something to the whole thing, because I've met other girls who rave about him, too."
"What's his name?"
"John Aumontjuer. He's American, actually. They just call him 'the Frenchman' because of his reputation and name."
"Never heard of him. And I'm sure in my circle of friends the word would be out if the world's greatest lover was in town."
"Sure.. . " Windy dropped into silence, annoyed at Georgia's attitude about the whole thing. It wasn't like she was trying to sell her something, Windy thought-just trying to be helpful.
CHAPTER TWO
Georgia stretched out naked on the lounge in her bedroom, trying to relax and forget her boredom. Her reflection in the mirrored wall across the room caught her attention and she smiled at the thought that some guy would go bananas looking up her legs, belly, and tits from that angle. Then, watching the mirror and imagining she was seeing the scene through the eyes of a man, she ran her long slender fingers around and over the fully developed breasts, tantalizing "him." Nipples quivered invitingly. One hand massaged the spark there into a flame while the index finger of her other hand traced a path down to the bush between her legs. She opened her legs wider to give "him" a view of the passionate cunt that itched with emptiness. Her finger toyed with, then entered, the tunel of love...
The door opened without warning and her brother's head popped in.
"Hey, Georgia-" was all he said, then he gaped wide-eyed and grinned knowingly.
She flushed with the embarrassment at having been caught with a finger in the honey jar.
"Don't you ever knock?" She recovered nicely, slipping her finger out and casually switching to a scratching of the area, then clasped her hands innocently on her stomach.
Steve walked to the foot of the lounge and eyed her closely.
"Why didn't you call me?" he asked. "I'm horny as a bastard too...Sunday mornings are always bad," he said, admiring her body.
"I need a man, not my kid brother," she sighed, knowing the challenge would be met with enthusiasm.
Steve walked along the side of the couch, ran his hand up her leg with a teasing slowness, circled the triangle of hair with a finger and moved up her stomach to tease her tight nipples.
"Then close your eyes and pretend," he suggested. "Or maybe you enjoy playing with yourself more than the real thing."
She grabbed the lump in his pants, squeezed it gently.
"It's too late for playing with myself. I mean I can't let my baby brother walk around town with a big bulge in his jeans."
Steve started to strip and Georgia turned on her side to watch. At twenty-two he was handsome and lean; spoiled too, she thought, only she was two years ahead of him. She stared admiringly at his big, stiff cock as he finished undressing.
My kid brother is nicely hung, she said to herself. And it's a pleasure to see a good set of balls hanging at the base of a husky male organ instead of shriveled-up prunes.
Steve strolled over to the lounge and looked over his sister's charms. There was no rushing or impatience in his approach. He just stood next to her, clenched fists resting on his hips, and contemplated his assault. like Georgia, Steve was looking for more than just the same old sex scene. Balling his sister was one up on the usual act because their attitudes were different to begin with: sisters and brothers didn't have to impress one another and he didn't have to worry about her telling the girls he was a lousy hump.
"If you're going to stand there admiring the scenery, move a little closer so I can amuse myself with that belly-tickler of yours," she said softly.
Steve moved closer to her face as she requested, but continued to stand there and eye her voluptuous body.
Georgia took his cock in her fist and delivered a warm, wet, open-mouthed kiss to his testicles. First one side, then the other. She sucked the sac between her lips and licked it. She licked a very wet tongue all over his balls and enjoyed the strong pulse from his responding cock. Fooled him, she said to herself. Probably expected me to plunge that gorgeous meat into my mouth and gobble it up. Now he wishes I would! And the longer I keep him wishing, the better it's going to feel when I finally do suck it into my mouth.
Chills danced up Steve's spine with each touch of Georgia's hot lips and tongue on his balls. He reached down and cupped her firm tits, massaged them and worked the bud-like nipples into the palms of his hands.
Georgia's tongue was on the base of his shaft and a trickle of cream awaited it at the ballooning head.
His hands drifted down to the nest of hair between her legs and his fingers combed through the soft fluff that was beginning to dampen. He watched the moist, pink lips of her cunt.
And the mirror reflected the drooling tongue that was snaking around his cock, slowly working its way, inch by inch, up his throbbing spear.
The odor of maleness filled Georgia's nostrils and she closed her eyes to drink in the fragrance that made her mouth water from the salty taste it suggested. But she refused to let her desire for the syrupy nectar prompt her into anything but a slow climb to the top, with her tongue covering every inch of his meat, feeling the cords and veins bulging with tenseness. Finally she reached the bottom rim of the heart-shaped head and Steve was no longer interested in watching. His fingers were on her cheeks and she felt them force her jaw open and her mouth was suddenly filled with cock; past her lips and teeth, pressing down her tongue as it swept to the back of her throat and lodged there. She reached around his hips and dug her nails into his buttocks, pulling him harder and farther down her throat.
"Uhhhhmmmmmmm," she hummed, gagging approvingly. She looked up into his staring eyes, and she knew by the look on his face that the feeling was mutual. Then she backed off until just the tip was between her puffed lips and sipped a fresh droplet from the eye.
Before the next plunge, Steve knelt on the lounge over her head, reversed and lowered himself, so his mouth was capable of taking possession of her sex. It also gave him the advantage of driving his piston into her mouth without giving her mouth room to back off again.
And while she was sipping his cock and the tip of her tongue was darting out to tease it, he covered her cunt with an open mouth and sucked. His tongue slithered around the hot, moist entrance to her burning sex-cave, returning her teases with his own. Both tongues trying to out tease one another.
Desire swept through Georgia's body and mind as though boiling acid was coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, just to get it out of her, but she knew that screaming wouldn't help. Instead she reached up and dug her nails into his ass again, this time with all her might, forcing him deep into her throat, where she screamed now in silence and it felt so good.
Steve had to catch his breath from that goodie, pausing briefly to contain his impulse to come. Once again in control of himself, he plunged his tongue into the depths of her cunt; sliding, slipping, skidding out of control in a powerful surge that was lubricated by the wetness of his tongue and the oozing juices on the walls of the red-hot tunnel, stopped only when the length of his tongue ran out and his head came abruptly into the junction of her legs, slamming against her when he could go no farther. Were it possible, his head would have followed his tongue into the soft, pulsing depths of this cozy chamber. Instead, her leg muscles gripped him in a vise-like headlock and held him there in place.
For a few brief moments they remained motionless, their brains trying to sort out the sensations that all parts of their bodies were reporting simultaneously. But it was hopeless. Too much, too fast. Georgia exploded first, reaching a wild orgasm that left her helplessly exhausted and weak, followed by Steve's first discharge of cum into her throat. She sprang back to life and savagely drank the rejuvenating cream shooting into her mouth, reaching another climax that caused her to gag and lose the last of the cream out the sides of her mouth.
Steve got to his feet and almost stumbled back on top of her, his head was spinning so fast. They grinned at each other and then laughed at his drunken behavior.
"Man...I feel like...I just wrestled...the entire Russian Army," Steve said, gulping air between phrases. He sat on the edge of the couch before his weakened legs gave out.
"Hell, I thought I was doing you a favor," Georgia said, pretending to pout. "Maybe you should give up sex if the work is too strenuous."
"Fuck you, Georgia," he answered with a big grin. "You don't look as though you've got enough sap left to close your eyelids."
"Bullshit! Just let me remind you, baby brother, that I just drained all the sap from that big-well maybe not so big-maple tree. So I've got yours and mine."
"Mmmmm...is that what this is? A maple tree?"
"I guess your girlfriends just don't take good care of you like your big sister."
"You can say that again. The fuckin' broads just open their legs-which I happen to believe are connected to their mouths because they both open together-and start babbling intellectual stanzas they've memorized for the occasion."
"Well, it seems you've reached the same boredom with the 'forbidden fruit' that I have."
"Yeah, but I don't think I'll give it up."
"I seem to be on a self-imposed diet. I've reached the point where I find myself putting men into categories. I'll meet a guy for the first time and say 'I remember you. You're supposed to be the greatest stud around-until the performance starts and your acting career ends.' It seems everybody's got a hang-up. And who wants seconds with the same bore, even if it's a new face?"
"I feel the same way. Only I don't get disappointed until it's over. Guys can't remember their last fuck when they have a hard-on. Their memory returns when they drop their load."
"Mmmmmm...that's very interesting," Georgia said in a serious tone, but giving the whole joke away with the grin on her face.
"What the hell is that grin for."
"Do you use starch on that thing, or does it always stand at attention."
"It must be the company."
"Mmmmmm.. . "
"That's a real compliment, Georgia. That damn thing didn't go limp."
"That's terrible," Georgia said, still pretending serious concern. "Got any idea what to do about that condition?"
"Get on your knees, wise-ass, and I'll show you."
Georgia turned so she was facing the mirror and knelt on the lounge as her brother directed. She propped her derriere high in the air while she rested her chin on her folded arms.
"I guess you've been sneaking out to watch the dogs fuck," she said.
Steve got behind her and sheathed his sword to the hilt in her pussy in one swift plunge. They both sighed with gratitude. Georgia began a circling motion with her ass, grinding it into his groin. Steve left his shaft securely locked in the depths of her while he felt and fondled her breasts, excited by their delicious firmness and fascinated by the vision of their act reflected in the mirror. Even Georgia's expression excited him: she had the smile of a girl who was enjoying his penetration, appreciated it and wouldn't be the least bit unhappy if he tore her apart. His slow, powerful strokes did justice to the desire in her cunt, satisfying the itch Georgia had there on every downstroke and creating a longing with every withdrawal-Georgia just purred like a kitten.
There was no urgency in his assault-everything seemed to be in slow motion. His strong hands kneaded and massaged her body from her shoulders to her buttocks while the piston drove in and out at a constant tempo. It was while he was squeezing her smooth, round ass-flesh that he spotted the small buttonhole and was intrigued by the prospect of ramming his cock up that too-tight passage. He stared at it momentarily, enjoying what he considered to be personality all its own-opening as he spread the globes of flesh apart, then sucking itself inward so tight that it almost dared him even to try an invasion. He took the challenge.
"Steve! You'll tear me apart!" Georgia screeched with surprise as the tip of his cock slipped from the warmth of her cunt to the entrance of her anus without warning.
"Split you right up the middle," he threatened, forcing the mushroom head forward, testing the resistance. It was tight, but the well-lubricated shaft moved deeper.
"Ohhh..." Georgia grunted. "Silly...bastard." And the spear moved farther into her rectum, continuing at a snail's pace up her insides. "...you're taking my breath away."
"Yeahhh," Steve groaned as the last few inches slid in.
Neither of them moved a muscle; they just remained silent, feeling the strange effect of the invasion fiat caused deep, irregular breathing from both. Steve felt a sense of accomplishment and he could feel the juices forming a whirlpool in his balls. Without warning he pulled it out and rammed it into her cunt.
"Holy shit!" Georgia gulped, but the big fat meat in her belly instantly took her mind off everything else. It seemed to be alive with twitching, jerking motions and her brother's arms were locked around her waist, forcing it deeper and deeper into her stomach. She could feel him come and went wild with her own orgasm; sucking, squeezing and in complete possession of his throbbing, spitting cock.
This time when they separated they seemed to be fresh and full of energy. Steve went to his pile of clothes and started to dress, stopped when he had his shorts on.
"You know, Georgia," he said, "I wonder what the ol' man would say if he caught us."
Georgia jumped to her feet and mimicked her father by frowning and stroking her chin with one hand. "Well, Stephen, it seems you missed the point of our talk about the birds and the bees."
"Did you ever try fucking a bee, Father?"
"...the point is," Georgia continued, stroking her chin and talking in a deep voice, "if one can't control these urges, there are girls who are paid to service your needs."
"And you, Georgia," Steve cut in, taking the father's role, "allowing this to go on right in front of your eyes."
"I wasn't watching, Daddy. Honest."
They both laughed and Steve went back to getting dressed.
"If you're not doing anything this afternoon, there's a cocktail party at the Morrisons', " Steve said as he was leaving.
Georgia accepted the invitation and the two of them were in high spirits when they drove to their neighbors' party and were quickly swept off in different directions when they arrived. But every so often their eyes would meet across the room and they'd give each other knowing grins.
At one point, while Georgia was chatting with a young man she had just met, her ear caught a name that set off an alarm in her head.
"...John Aumontjuer, I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Joyce.. . " a voice behind Georgia was saying, and she snapped her head around instinctively. She was instantly disappointed.
Standing just a few feet away was the much-talked-about "sex idol," and all she could feel was a big letdown. He was in his late thirties, and while he wasn't exactly ugly, Georgia didn't think he was particularly handsome either. But worse than that-he was only about five-eight, while Georgia stood five-eleven in heels and had always had a "thing" about height Being tall all her life, she just naturally felt that a man had to be taller to be sexy.
Since Georgia didn't know the people he was talking to, she continued to chat with her new acquaintance, listening enough to keep up with the conversation while she nonchalantly watched John Aumontjuer. He certainly didn't fit the reputation he'd been given, she thought, but the young girl with him seemed entranced just being at his side. And she, Georgia hated to admit, was beautiful : about eighteen or nineteen years old, an inch taller than her escort, and the prettiest, most innocent-looking face Georgia had ever seen. She had large, brown doe-eyes, a cute turned-up nose and pouting, sensual lips, all framed by her dark brown hair, which she wore in bangs and down the side of her face to her lovely breasts.
A sense of guilt flushed through Georgia at the thought of how much she was attracted to the girl when she should have been looking at the "Frenchman." Then she caught sight of her brother, who was making his way through the crowd toward her. No. She realized that Steve had also been mesmerized by the young girl with John Aumontjuer and was moving in.
Within moments Steve had taken John, whom he obviously knew, and the girl away from the Joyce couple and called Georgia to join them. It was also obvious he was desperately trying to get her from John by substituting Georgia, but while the girl was polite she didn't give him an ounce of encouragement. And John Aumontjuer acted as though he wasn't aware of Steve's intentions.
"Actually we're neighbors," John said to Georgia after their introduction. "However, in all the years I've lived in Great Neck I had an altogether different picture of what Georgia Clark Kingston would look like."
"I know," Georgia said. "Everyone tells me they picture a very tall, very thin girl, with a long nose and freckles."
Georgia found John Aumontjuer easy to talk to, charming and amusing. They moved to a sofa, chatting like old friends, while the young girl followed silently, just smiling and looking pure and innocent-with Steve at her side acting like a little puppy. And before she knew it the party was over. They had been talking for almost two hours and didn't realize it. But before John left he made a point of inviting her to his house for lunch, which Georgia took as an indication that she had made quite an impression on him, because the date was for the next day.
On the short drive home, Steve couldn't think or talk about anything but the girl.
"She's as pretty as a China doll," Georgia said, finally getting a word in. "But a little strange. Don't you think."
" 'Strange'? I didn't think she was 'strange.' Everything about her was absolutely tantalizing."
"Yes, but she didn't carry on a conversation. Just answered your questions and was polite."
"But every move she made was sensual. The way she moved her hips almost made me come in my pants."
"Did you get a date?"
"Well...not exactly. The best I could get was a we'll see.' But I haven't given up."
CHAPTER THREE
It was a dismal Monday morning, raining and quite cold for September. Georgia had set the alarm for nine o'clock and called the office, still in bed and half asleep, to advise them she wouldn't be in. She was Assistant-to-the-editor of a woman's magazine and was losing interest in the job anyway. However, she had hoped to avoid speaking to the editor, who was a woman in her fifties with a sharp tongue. But as luck would have it, the editor answered the phone and they had harsh words.
By noon Georgia was dressed in a plaid, pleated skirt, with matching vest, a white sweater and high heels. Conservative, she thought. But the short skirt didn't detract from her long, shapely legs, and the white sweater emphasized her conical breasts. And besides, older men prefer "cute" clothes, someone had told her-probably a jealous bitch.
She drove to his house in her brother's Cadillac convertible (top up) and found herself getting a little nervous. How silly, she told herself, I don't even care for him sexually.
Just a friend. Someone who's interesting to talk to. But it didn't help drive out her anxiety.
It came as a bit of a shock when the front door was answered by Liz, the girl John was with at the party. She was wearing a short white dress that clung to every curve of her (naked underneath) body and Georgia hated herself for being so conservative. But Elizabeth continued to be the same polite, sweet, innocent child she was at the party and led Georgia to the closed-in patio, where John was tinkering with some plants, while another scantily clad young thing was setting the table.
John's warmth immediately put Georgia at ease, and the two girls hastily departed. Then before she knew it, they were involved in conversation, sipping martinis, which John mixed; almost an uninterrupted continuation of the evening before. She was hardly aware of Elizabeth and the other girl when they served lunch and played tidy servant girls: there to carry out any little deed to please their "master."
John led Georgia to a low, comfortable couch to have coffee and for the first time Georgia was reminded of sex by the admiring glance John gave her legs as she sat down. Right up to the crotch, she thought, as she instinctively crossed her legs to cut off the view.
"Why don't you tell me how you got your reputation as a great lover?" she asked teasingly.
"Hal That's a big laugh. I'm far from a great lover...just...well, you might say I'm more of a lover of sex."
"That's very interesting-at a time when everyone else seems to be getting bored with sex."
"Yes, but why are they bored with sex? Because they rush into it one-two-three and it's over. The mystery and intrigue are gone and they soon lose interest"
"But how can you maintain interest in something that you've found to be overrated?"
"Simply by conditioning yourself."
"All right then, how does one condition oneself?"
"First of all, what makes sex interesting? If s a desire, an urge. Once the desire is fulfilled it vanishes. So one must cultivate the desire to its full capacity."
"That's easier said than done," Georgia said. "If s the man who suffers from an urgency that he can't contain and rushes the act to a conclusion, satisfying himself and his urgency, but leaving the girl on the first step of the ladder."
"True. But what if the girl is suffering from an even greater urgency? She would have two or three orgasms during his rush to reach his first."
Georgia's silence was unmistakably caused by her doubts, he thought. He smiled and called to Liz.
"Let me demonstrate how conditioning works," he said, as Liz entered. "Show Georgia your rose," he said to Liz.
The girl blushed and lowered her eyes, which seemed to be filling with tears. Slowly, shamefully, she reached down and began lifting the hem of her skirt.
Georgia was taken by surprise at the demonstration and didn't know what to do or say. She was embarrassed for the girl's sake and didn't know where to look as the hem was slowly lifted higher and higher. Liz hesitated as the bottom of the skirt reached a point just below her sex and Georgia dropped her own eyes when John told Liz to lift it all the way up. Now Georgia was getting uneasy because she was expected to look and wasn't. She shot a quick glance at the girl and turned to face John. He was smiling back at her and she decided to have another look.
Perched at a point that barely touched the girl's pubic hair was an inverted, red rose. "It takes a lot of concentration to walk with a rose between your legs-without dropping it or squashing it," John said, as Georgia stared wide-eyed in amazement.
"But why?" Georgia asked.
"By concentrating on the rose you give your full attention to that part of your body, controlling every muscle from the waist down. It also stimulates the mind, thinking about the soft rose brushing and teasing that area. And the stem, of course, is inserted in her."
"I really don't think I'm the Vase type,' John," Georgia said and John began laughing.
His laugh had a calming effect on the two girls and the tension was gone, but Liz remained motionless, her eyes still downcast as she held up her skirt. John reached between her legs and removed the flower.
"Feel between her legs," John said.
Georgia hesitated, then reached out her hand and slid it between the girl's legs. Elizabeth's cunt was dripping with juices. As she fingered the hot, mushy lips, Georgia glanced up into the girl's face and saw that her expression had changed from shame to agony. The agony of a girl having an orgasm. And Georgia accommodated her by letting her fingers linger until she was finished.
"Liz hasn't had sex with a man for almost two weeks," John said, signaling Liz to drop her skirt by waving his hand. "When she does-it will be the best ever."
"For whom?"
"Both."
At the moment, Georgia was having her own problem with dampness between the legs. The little scene had stirred up the juices in her and she couldn't help thinking about the shame Elizabeth had shown when John made her lift her dress. Georgia couldn't wash the sight of the vivid red rose from her mind-the way it was held delicately between the girl's white legs, with the green stem planted in the forbidden garden and hidden by the soft turf of hair. The fragrance from the juices between Elizabeth's legs was still in Georgia's nostrils and on her fingers-or maybe it was her own juices, she thought, closing her legs tighter just in case, to keep the odor locked in so it wouldn't reach John.
However, John changed the subject abruptly and they were talking about his plants, leaving Georgia with a mist between her legs and a bit confused about her host. Next she found herself on a walking tour of the house, which to Georgia was just another expensive Great Neck home-not as expensive as her father's-quite ordinary, in fact. The itch between her legs gradually subsided.
But by the time they reached the indoor swimming pool, John was discussing health, exercise, and the benefits of a sauna bath. Georgia's confusion was compounded when she found herself in a small dressing room getting undressed to take a sauna bath. She wondered how John maneuvered her into this idea-then vaguely recalled that she was the one who suggested it. But how? Why? She drew a complete blank.
Wrapped only in a towel she entered the sauna, where John was already stretched out on a table being massaged by the girl who served lunch and Liz was sitting, Indian fashion, on one of the wall benches. Everyone was modestly covered with bath towels.
"Let Liz give you a rubdown, Georgia," John said, motioning that she should take the table next to him. "You'll feel like a new person."
Why not? Georgia conceded, as she adjusted her towel and got onto the table. You've already got me so confused my head is spinning. And when Liz draped another towel over her derriere so it wouldn't be exposed, Georgia sighed to herself and thought she had seen everything. A house full of sex, but we must not expose our behinds. This is too much!
Georgia watched Jean at the next table as she massaged John. She had finished his back and legs and Georgia wondered if it was against the rules to massage under the towel. Then Jean picked up a bottle of oil and started at his shoulders again. This time when she reached the towel it was brushed off and her fingers began kneading his muscular rump. A look of pleasure swept over the girl's face, while John just remained motionless, with his eyes closed.
New delights began to sweep through Georgia as she watched the girl at the next table meticulously rub oil into John's smooth cheeks, invading his rectum now with a finger that slid in and out as it twisted like a screw. Meanwhile, Liz was beginning the oil treatment on Georgia and she knew that soon she too would enjoy the sensations John was getting. Georgia felt the dew begin to form in her cunt. And when Liz probed at the buttonhole, Georgia had to hold her breath to keep from squealing with delight
John was chatting about sex again, but Georgia's attention was devoted to the fingers on her ass. John asked her something about demonstration and she vaguely remembered nodding "yes." Liz must have known how much she was enjoying the attention at her buttonhole, Georgia decided, because the girl continued to linger in the same spot much longer than John had been given.
Jean (John's masseuse) left the room and returned momentarily with a big, black stud. Georgia's eyes popped at the sight of the muscular nude male with an enormous cock that was already pointing at the ceiling.
"You must remember," John explained, "Jean and Ralph are at different stages of development This will be the first time in eight days that a man has been allowed to give Jean any pleasure. Ralph has only been here three days and is not allowed even to masturbate."
Georgia propped her chin up on her clasped hands, to watch the couple, while Liz conveniently left her full finger buried in the depths of Georgia's tight tunnel. To show her appreciation, Georgia gave the finger a little squeeze.
Obviously, pangs of delight gushed through Jean at the first touch of the black hands on her throbbing white tits, because she closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure. Ralph moved around the standing girl, feeling, caressing, and tantalizing every inch of her body. When his right hand slid down her stomach, over the triangle of hair, between her legs and up her behind, Jean clamped his wrist with all the strength in her legs and rode it for an orgasm. But it was Ralph that Georgia felt sorry for; his face was twisted in agony as his swollen member dribbled one drop of cream at a time, and he had to move in such a way that it never came in contact with Jean's body. The only relief he seemed to get was squeezing his balls between his legs.
Next, he started at her shoulders and kissed her entire body, front and back. Georgia watched with panic filling her body as he ran his pink tongue over Jean's heaving breasts, sucking the quivering nipples into his mouth and drooling saliva. This time Jean trapped his knee between her legs and reached another climax.
This was getting to be too much for Georgia to endure and she glanced at John for some sign that he would satisfy her craving. Unfortunately, he was casually watching his students and didn't even notice her. As a last resort, she gripped Liz's finger with all her might and rubbed her aching, itching clit into the towel and hard table. It offered very little relief.
Now Jean had Ralph on the bench and was straddled over his face. His tongue licked out at everything she moved over his mouth, giving her complete freedom to be licked anywhere. The torture Ralph was going through was evident by the tight grip he had on the sides of the bench and that agonized look on his face. But Jean didn't let up for a moment. She made him ream her ass-hole with his tongue and keep it there while she drank in the pleasure. Then she took a few deep breaths to prepare for the finale. She moved herself over his mouth and let the tip of his tongue dance on the sopping wet lips of her inflamed sex. Slowly she lowered herself and his tongue snaked into the depths of her body.
Georgia managed to grind out a slight relief on the table, but was nowhere near satisfied. She craved the large, black cock that was going to waste before her eyes and choked back a scream when it discharged a squirt of cream. Then she watched with disappointment as it fired three more times, sending the white cream up Ralph's stomach and as far as his neck. All wasted, she thought, and probably only a portion of what was down in his balls.
Jean's third orgasm was wild, leaving her exhausted, but finally contented. As the show concluded, Liz removed her finger from Georgia's ass and looked as though she had the same problem as Georgia, who looked hopefully at John for satisfaction. But he didn't respond to her pleading look and the next thing she knew she was getting dressed.
It was almost six o'clock when Georgia got behind the wheel of her brother's car and started home. She was invited to spend the weekend at John's place in the Thousand Islands, which she said she'd have to call him later in the week about. At the moment she wanted a cold shower and sped off for the solitude of her bedroom, where she could at least diddle herself to relieve the turmoil in her head.
Once she was home and undressed Georgia lost interest in masturbating and her thoughts went to her brother Steve. That's it! she told herself, rushing naked down the hall to her brother's room. Empty. The whole house seemed empty. Disappointed and beginning to grow irritable she started back to her room, when she heard water running the master bathroom. It must be Steve, she told herself and walked into the bathroom, into the shocked look of her father.
"Georgia!" he gulped, speechless for the first time she could remember. "You shouldn't walk around like that." He recovered but not before his eyes took in his daughter's charms.
"I didn't think anyone was home," she replied innocently, noticing a growing lump under the towel he had wrapped around him.
"I'm flying to Chicago in the morning and came home early to get some rest."
Georgia leaned against the door frame. "When is Mother returning from Florida?"
"Sometime next week," he said, brushing off the question. "Really, Georgia, you shouldn't walk around like that."
"You've seen me this way ever since I was born."
He gulped.
"Besides, I haven't seen you in over a week and you forgot to kiss me." She was up against him before he had a chance to answer, wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a warm, wet kiss on his cheek.
"Real...ly," her father stammered, but instead of moving away, Georgia snuggled into the bulge in the towel between her legs.
Charles P. Kingston didn't know how it happened, but there he was looking into his daughter's lovely face, his towel was gone, he was half sitting on the counter and his cock was buried in Georgia's cunt.
He managed to whisper the only thing in his mind. "I love you, little one."
"I love you too, Daddy," she cooed back.
His hands reached down and gripped her ass, then slowly lifted her. He penetrated deeper and deeper as she rose on her toes. Their open mouths locked on each other and both had the same feeling that this was a dream they had dreamed before. Neither wanted it to end, but Georgia moved and it set off the spark that exploded the cum from her father's warhead and drove her wild. She dug her nails into his back and met every thrust with a thrust of her own. And she was finally satisfied.
CHAPTER FOUR
Georgia couldn't explain why she accepted John's invitation to spend the weekend on his island. Perhaps it was the mystery, the intrigue that cloaked John Aumontjuer, she thought. But whatever it was, she found herself boarding his single engine seaplane on Friday afternoon at Sands Point, for the trip to the Thousand Islands. She was surprised, annoyed, and confused to find Liz on board. Certainly the "Great Lover" wasn't going to frustrate her again, she couldn't help thinking during the trip. Not another lesson in abstinence, she hoped. Not a whole weekend of unfulfilled desire, she prayed.
But as soon as they docked at the pier of his small island hideaway, Georgia began to sense that her worst fears of a sexless weekend were going to be realized. A clutch of young, lovely girls met them as they stepped from the plane, fawning excitedly over John as though he was a movie idol. John responded in a suave, good-natured manner, making it clear to everyone by his attentions, that Georgia was his guest of honor. This gesture merely entitled her to some of the attention the girls were giving John. Something Georgia would have gladly waived for an uninhabited island and the promise of a weekend alone with the host. And she made up her mind, as they walked the well-manicured, tree-lined path up to the house, that she would make the best of the weekend and put Mr. Aumontjeur as far out of her mind as possible come Sunday night.
The house was a low, modern structure that appeared relatively small at first, but Georgia quickly discovered on the inside that it sprawled out in many directions. The decor was obviously sex-oriented: from the paintings and statues to the wallpaper, furniture, and drapes (closer examination revealed the drapes contained murals of Roman orgies.) The house suggested sex, Georgia noted, but wasn't vulgar. She quickly lost interest in the decor as the girls that met them at the dock began taking off their coats. They were all wearing short, pastel-colored togas. It was obvious they didn't have anything on underneath. The slightest bend forward revealed glimpses of bare ass from the rear view and bare breasts from the front. And Georgia found it difficult to take her eyes off the girls, with the constant flashes of flesh-until a handsome young man wearing a toga entered the hall.
Georgia eyed the tall, lean figure approvingly, thinking she may have judged the weekend too harshly. She guessed the blond, blue-eyed male to be in his early twenties. Then another male, of about the same age and build, entered. This one had a dark, olive complexion, with jet black hair and deep, dark eyes. She wondered if the men would also expose bare asses if they bent...answered almost immediately by a move one of the girls made. The girl probably didn't think anyone would notice in the confusion of welcoming home the "Master" and moved casually past the dark one, her hand "accidentally" brushing the hem of his toga. But Georgia caught the momentary pause as she gripped his cock in her hand for a quick, affectionate squeeze before moving coquettishly on.
Well now, Georgia thought, amused by the noticeable rising of a pole under the young man's toga. This is going to be an interesting weekend after all.
He was looking into her eyes and she thought she caught a wisp of a smile curl the corner of his mouth. There was no effort whatsoever to hide the obvious bulge. And by now several girls had spotted his "tent," giggled and nudged others to look. If John was aware of the incident-which Georgia was sure he must have been-he didn't show any signs. Instead he instructed the young men to take Georgia's things to her room and suggested Georgia freshen up for cocktails.
It was Liz who led her through the halls, rooms, and various wings of the house to her bedroom, followed by the two young men. The dark-haired youth carried Georgia's valise, while the one with blond hair carried her makeup case and sprang ahead to open doors for them. But the male escorts promptly disappeared as soon as Georgia and her things were deposited in the room. Liz remained to see that she was comfortable.
Georgia stood in the middle of the room, giving it the once-over. Perhaps she was too conscious of the obvious "sex scene" atmosphere, she thought. Mirrors everywhere. Her eye caught a lounge chair that had a built in bump for deeper penetration and she was still staring at it when Liz returned from the large bathroom, started to say something, then stopped and smiled at someone standing behind Georgia.
"So there you are," Liz said with a warm smile. "Georgia, I'd like you to meet the twins."
Georgia turned to see two beautiful children standing in the doorway. A boy and girl, that she guessed to be about seven. They too were outfitted in short togas and sandals.
"Adrian and Alexander-this is Miss Kingston." Liz spoke the words softly. "You be sure to take very good care of her. Anything you need," she said, turning to Georgia, "the children will get for you. See you in about an hour."
It came as a complete surprise to find that she was to have two little servants to wait on her. So she began the acquaintance by asking them questions about their age and what they liked to play, but quickly discovered the children had been trained to be polite, courteous, and affectionate. Very affectionate!
"You'd better get dressed, Miss Kingston," Adrian finally said in a soft, sweet voice that reminded Georgia how young they really were.
She took a long, luxurious bath, dressed slowly and was ready to join John for cocktails. The children led her through the corridors to the living room.
Then John was at her side. He seemed to sweep her off her feet with his charm, and the next thing she knew she was entering a large room, with a surprisingly large crowd.
As John started the introductions, she suddenly realized the caliber of the guests that were present: A U.S. Senator, several television personalities, a millionaire industrialist, prominent bankers and stock brokers, a newspaper columnist, and so many others that she began to wonder how John had managed to gather such big names. And it quickly became apparent that those dressed in togas were members of the "staff," mixing with the guests. She also noted that there were several other children present, standing at the side of the guest they had been assigned to-which reminded her of Adrian and Alexander, but they were gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Once again Georgia found herself disappointed with the arrangements John had made for the weekend. All these guests John had invited meant a weekend of entertaining-one big party from beginning to end. A complete bore, she concluded with a sigh of resignation as John led her from one guest to another. Interesting personalities, she admitted, but not when you had planned on a quiet weekend of becoming intimately acquainted; discovering that elusive thing called love.
But she faced up to the fact that she was captive at another dull, boring cocktail party. She handled it with her usual smiling, sweet, pleasant, but phony charm that she had developed over the years for such occasions. However, something about the atmosphere struck her as being strange. The setting was just a typical cocktail party, but something about it was different. For one thing, she noticed, it wasn't as noisy as usual and as they mingled with the guests no one attempted to cut in on conversations, make deals, or promote themselves by meeting influential people. The atmosphere, she concluded, was similar to one of those stuffy, British men's clubs. Everyone minded his own business-except everywhere you looked, young girls in togas were exposing their bare asses, and handsome, well-built young studs, also wearing togas, were walking around with hard-ons that were impossible to mistake for anything else under those short outfits.
Georgia also noted that John's commitment as the host was strangely uncomplicated. He wasn't the least concerned about seeing that everyone enjoyed himself. She got the feeling that it was every man for himself. And after they had worked their way through the guests in the living room, the game room, and out to the closed-in swimming pool, John led her to a small, private dining room, where they dined alone. It was a romantic, dark, candle-lit setting, with a large window overlooking the island and the St. Lawrence River.
"You've been terribly quiet, Georgia," John said as two girls served them dinner. "Is anything wrong?"
"No. It's just that..." she hesitated, searching for the right words. "...well, I guess everything came as a surprise. I didn't expect so many people and-"
"Ahhh, that's good," he responded with delight. "I work very hard at being different: avoiding the obvious and being unpredictable, taking the challenge of being an individual. I prefer being one of a kind."
"That's fine. I guess. But when you're expecting one thing and find something altogether different-well, I guess it's just confusing."
"And I apologize for not preparing you for this weekend. But to tell the truth, I was afraid you wouldn't have accepted the invitation if I had tried to explain what it would be like."
Georgia could see the sincerity in his eyes and feel it in his voice. It was time to change the subject and get away from being so serious. "Tell me about the guests," she offered.
"There's not much to tell. You met them-just people. Perhaps a bit on the wealthy side, but other than that, just ordinary people."
"But why are they here? And why aren't you out there entertaining such influential people?"
"I never ruin a party with talk about business. That's what telephones are for. And I'll let you discover for yourself why they are here. It will be much more interesting and entertaining than if I tried to explain it."
The conversation during the remainder of the lobster dinner was mostly about Georgia.
But when they had finished and moved to the long, low couch by the window, John asked if her room was comfortable and if the twins had taken good care of her.
"Oh, yes," she answered honestly, as his hand rested on her knee. "But don't you think they're rather young to be...well...around all the nudity?"
"Nonsense. The psychiatrists say we should expose children to nudity and sex at an early age. It helps them to develop healthy minds. Wasn't it Freud who said that everything we did, from the moment of birth until death was sex motivated?"
Georgia didn't answer. Her eyes were watching his hand move slowly under the hem of her short skirt. The implied destination gave her a tingling sensation all over. His other hand was behind her neck, deftly opening the zipper there.
"What I have done," he continued, "is allow my guests to surround themselves with an atmosphere conducive to acting out their fantasies."
His mouth was suddenly covering hers. His warm, moist lips touched hers, just as his hand reached the junction of her legs. A flush of girl-juice moistened the sheer panties, seeping through to the palm of his hand. His tongue was testing the resistance of hers, before forcing its way into her mouth.
She never heard the girls clear the table. Her head was too light from the realization that she was about to conquer the man who had tantalized her with sex. His weapon would soon be seized in her yielding, panting cunt-to find the trap close around it. And she would be the victor. The glory of victory was at hand.
She allowed John to remove her clothing, even helped with an eager wiggle when necessary. His eyes devoured her naked body, from head to toe. Hooked! she told herself, confident now. When he helped her to her feet, she turned slowly for his eyes to drink in every inch of perfectly shaped flesh. And she saw how his stare was constantly drawn to the golden triangle of soft fluffy hair between her legs.
Their mouths came together again, in an open, wet, mind-spinning kiss. She pressed her nakedness against his fully clothed body and felt the reassuring bulge in his pants nestle between her legs. Mine! she told herself. Then realized that without heels they were practically the same height. It made her feel even better.
His open mouth moved to her neck, then her breasts, while his hands felt and explored both her front and back. The touch of his wet lips on her soft, white skin quickened her heartbeat. His tongue licking her hard, quivering nipples sent signals of anticipation to her panting cunt. His finger traced its way down the path between the globes of her ass, exploring the little buttonhole with delightful slowness. His other hand toyed between her legs, building the longing inside to a peak.
John eased her to a sitting position on the couch, spread her legs and covered her cunt with his open mouth. He knelt before her, her legs over his shoulders and sucked. Sucked the breath from her lungs, through her body and out her cunt. And the room seemed to fill with the smell of her juices. It excited her even more to think that his nose was buried in the moist hair at the very source of the fragrance.
His hands were under her buttocks, lifting her to his sucking mouth. Then she felt the first touch of his tongue. Up and down her slit it moved; slow, but firm licks. She was already losing control of her senses and the explosion of an orgasm was rumbling through her body. His tongue entered the soft, yielding orifice, filling the cavity with moist, firm tongue flesh. The forceful plunge of the powerful snake triggered her orgasm.
"Mmmmm...ohhhhh...ahhhhh..." she groaned, grabbing his head and forcing him harder against her cunt. "Mmmmm...more...give me more," she cried and lost all her strength when she felt the flat slab of meat penetrate farther and farther into her body.
What a tongue! a voice in her head remarked as she worked out the violence of her climax. What a fuckin' tongue!
When she squeezed out the last ounce of pleasure, she finally relaxed and his tongue slid gently from her cove. She remained motionless for a few moments before opening her eyes. She gave John a lazy, heavy-eyed look of approval and a faint smile of appreciation. He was standing before her, still fully dressed, smiling back. Then as she began to show signs of life, he removed his dinner jacket, unzipped his fly and whipped out a cock that Georgia felt sure any man would have been proud of.
"I could come by just looking at you," John said as he helped her from the couch. "And if you like, I'll prove it. But it's much nicer this way."
Georgia found herself kneeling before him, staring into the eye of his ballooning cock. A teardrop of cream was already oozing from the eye and the mushroom-shaped head was throbbing. She gently wrapped her fingers around the stiff pole and brought her lips closer to the tip of it.
John watched eagerly as her pouty-red lips separated and his pulsing cock came closer to her face. He could feel the warmth of her breath on the tip and her gentle grip on the shaft was delightful. The sight of her lips spreading from a bare slit to the shape of an "O," as they slid slowly over his hot meat, gave him the necessary spark to explode his cum. He had planned on making this a quick one. Just long enough to give her a sample of what the future held. Just enough to tantalize her.
As Georgia drew the throbbing cock into her mouth, she realized that John had her completely under his thumb. What happened to the victory? The trapped weapon? She hadn't even had time to tease him with her licking tongue. The head of his cock was already in her mouth, sliding back to her throat when without warning, the volcano erupted, hot lava gushing into her mouth and throat, making her choke and lose most of the cum out of the corners of her mouth. But everything happened to fast that she didn't have time to think straight. It made her feel like an inexperienced little school girl.
"I knew I couldn't wait a moment longer," John whispered in her ear as he helped her to her feet. "Your body just drove me wild."
She accepted that and made up her mind to show him how good she was the next time. The next time, she thought as she slipped into her clothes. What am I saying? I don't even care for him! We already decided I don't want to see him after this weekend. He's too short, too old and just not my type.. .
But as they joined the other guests in the living room, Georgia still hadn't straightened out the conflict that was going on inside her head. She was intrigued by John Aumontjuer and fascinated by what was going on all around her. The atmosphere whetted her curiosity and drove out the preconditioned thought that all social gatherings were a bore.
"I hate to have to do this," John was saying, "but I have to leave you for a few minutes to arrange for a little ceremony one of the guests wants to present."
"What kind of ceremony?" Georgia asked with a frown.
"Remember Jenkins the bank president?" he asked, and Georgia nodded that she did. "Well he caught one of his employees stealing-to pay gambling debts, I believe. Anyway, the amount was only a thousand or so dollars and Jenkins offered him a choice: be turned over the police or submit to Jenkins' justice. If he chose the latter, Jenkins would personally replace the money and he wouldn't lose his job."
"And what kind of punishment does Jenkins have in mind?" Georgia asked with a tinge of sarcasm.
"I'm not sure, but you can count on it being of a sexual nature. He wouldn't bring him here if it wasn't."
"Does the employee know what the punishment is going to be?" Georgia asked. She didn't care for the whole idea and thought perhaps the man was being used-or better yet-blackmailed into some fiendish act for Mr. Jenkins' amusement.
"All he knows is there won't be any disfigurement or unbearable pain," John explained quickly, as some of the guests became impatient to enter the game room. "Fear of the unknown is probably the worst part of the punishment."
With that John left her and walked briskly across the living room, reassured the guests waiting at the closed door to the game room that it would only take a few minutes, opened the door and slipped inside.
"You 'face is new around here," a voice behind Georgia said, taking her attention off the sealed room.
She turned and gave a pleasant smile to an elderly gentleman sitting in a big, overstuffed chair. "Yes I am. My name is Georgia."
"My name is Miller," he responded gruffly.
"Of course. Congressman Miller..." she said and sat beside him on a hassock.
"Not my cup of tea," he said with a nod in the direction of the game room. "Too old for that sort of thing anyway. But at seventy-eight, I guess I'm too old for almost, everything."
"I'm not sure I care for the idea myself," Georgia admitted, glancing at the young boy standing alongside the congressman's chair. He was about the same age as the twins, she noted. Handsome too. Almost too pretty a face to be a boy, she thought. His elbow was resting on the arm of the chair, his cheek resting on the palm of his hand and he was smiling pleasantly at her.
"His name is Jerry," Miller said, obviously aware of Georgia's attention.
When Georgia saw John coming across the room to get her, she quickly got up, took his arm, and walked him away from the scene.
"Who's little boy is that?" she asked.
"Jerry belongs to one of the gardeners," John answered casually.
"Do his parents know where he is?"
"As a matter-of-fact, that's his mother tending bar."
Georgia quickly appraised the attractive brunette who was in the process of filling martini glasses. Twenty-sixish. Just the slightest bit overweight, but well-proportioned and smiling pleasantly as she went about her chores.
I just don't believe it, Georgia thought, walking now toward the game room.
The room was paneled in dark walnut and the lights were so dim that Georgia could barely make out the objects on the walls-a rack of cue sticks caught her eye, and a dart board. She couldn't see what was in the glass-enclosed cases that were stationed at intervals along the walls, but she did notice shining objects that must have been trophies. She scanned the people standing along the walls, sipping drinks, chatting and continuing to enjoy the party. How coldhearted, she thought.
In the center of the rectangular room was a billiard table. It was the only object in the room that was brightly illuminated by three hanging lamps, that had shades which directed the light straight down. The green felt seemed vivid under the lights and she noticed it was void of all the balls.
As soon as the door was closed, a hush fell over the guests and all but the lights over the pool table were turned off. Now it was impossible to recognize anyone along the walls; only the bottoms of their legs and feet caught any rays from the hanging lamps. A door opened and she saw the silhouettes of three men enter before the door closed again.
"Arthur," Mr. Jenkins began, stepping closer to the table where he could be seen. "Did you come here of your own free will?"
A nervous, high-pitched voice answered weakly. "Yes."
"Were you not caught in the act of stealing money from the bank?" Jenkins asked.
From the darkness came a scared reply. "Yes."
"And you agreed to accept my proposition to let me replace the money for you, let you keep your job and have you take your punishment from me, rather than the authorities?"
A blindfolded figure was brought to the end of the table by two toga-clad young men. He was about five-feet-six, in his late twenties and a bit on the plump side. Baby fat, Georgia said to herself. He was so nervous, she felt sorry for him.
"Then let's get on with it," Jenkins said.
The two well-built young men took their cue and sprang into action, stripping the victim naked in a few short seconds, leaving only his blindfolded in place. A few muffled snickers came from some spectators at the sight of his physique-and his terribly small, shriveled-up cock. Then straps were attached to his wrists and ankles and he was bent over the table, feet on the floor, and tied face down-by spreading his arms out and tying them in place. Next his legs were spread as wide as possible and secured to the legs of the table.
He was only a few feet away from Georgia and she could hear him making little sobbing sounds in his throat. She and John were to the side and slightly behind him. Close enough to see his muscles straining from the taut, spread-eagle position he was locked in. Finally his blindfold was removed and he managed to raise his head to look at the president of the bank where he worked. Jenkins stared back dispassionately.
"Young man, consider yourself fortunate," Jenkins said in a dry monotone. "Thirty minutes from now you'll be back in your room and your debt will be settled. The first of your punishment was the anguish you suffered these last nine days, not knowing what was to happen to you. The next two parts will be over quickly. And I think you'll someday thank me for not sending you off to spend years in a prison cell, only to discover you could never find employment again. And only you and I at the bank will know what happened during these minutes."
"Please, Mr. Jenkins," the prisoner pleaded.
"Your fate is no longer in my hands, Arthur. It is now up to this gentleman." Jenkins swept his hand in the direction of the darkness behind himself. "Bruno is in complete charge now."
Jenkins left the table and stepped into the darkness. After a few moments of suspenseful hesitation, another figure stepped into the light at the other end of the table, facing Arthur. A tall, muscular, black man. His body glistened from head to toe with oil. He was bald and sinister looking, as he stood with arms folded staring at his victim. The only garment he wore was a square patch of material that covered his groin, held in place by a leather strap around his waist.
Again he waited for the suspense to build before moving. But when he did move, it was a slow, cat-like stride, as though he was stalking an animal. And all the while he stared at Arthur, flashing his glistening white teeth in a sinister grin. As he came alongside the victim, he reached out a hand and stroked the quivering face of the terrified young man.
Just the way he grinned and stared, terrified Georgia. He was evil-looking from head to toe, she decided, imagining how the poor devil strapped to the table felt. And when he spoke, he clearly enunciated every word in a clipped, even tempo, giving her chills.
"First, ten moderate strokes of a two-inch strap, properly placed across the subject's ass."
He walked on slowly, running his fingers down Arthur's trembling back, down the deep crevice between the mounds of soft ass-flesh. Arthur's body jerked.
"Please-I'm sorry, Mr. Jenkins-I'll pay you back-I promise," he pleaded in a sobbing, terrified voice.
One of the young men who had escorted him in, stepped forward and stuffed a white pad of gauze in his mouth and secured it there with tape.
Georgia wanted to get away from this scene, but was held motionless by the hypnotic movements of the black man. She didn't want to watch but couldn't take her eyes off the "executioner." He enjoyed this task so much it was impossible to take her eyes off him. And he made a point of continuing to torment his victim by probing the crevice of his ass with his finger.
When he finally did pull his hand away from the deep crack, the first crack of the strap sounded. The lightning speed of his arm, and the loud report of leather slapping loose flesh, startled everyone. He followed the first stroke with nine more, in rapid-fire succession.
Two girls immediately stepped forward and massaged the mounds of white flesh that now had crimson stripes. They applied oil and continued to massage the smooth globes for several minutes, in an attempt to rub away the pain.
"Finally," Bruno broke the silence with that brain-penetrating voice of his, "you raped society and society will rape you."
Georgia watched in awe as one of the girls stepped forward and placed a glob of petroleum jelly in the crack of the victim's ass, while the other girl removed Bruno's loin cloth. Her eyes widened as his huge cock came into view. She watched the first girl apply the lubricant to the powerful spear and began to feel weak in the legs when he stepped closer to the hindquarters of his victim.
With the same slow, deliberate move of his, he placed the palms of his hands on the smooth mounds of ass and spread them apart Then with a slow, graceful move of his hips, placed the head of his tumescent male organ at the small entrance. Georgia watched the heart-shaped head disappear. She could feel it in her own rectum-remembering Steve's plunge into that opening and how it had gagged her. It bored into the depth of your body even though you tried to resist, fighting it off with all your strength, and losing the battle to the forcing, crawling, spreading drill, that squeezes into the too tight tunnel. She could imagine how poor Arthur must feel. And from where she was standing she could see very little detail, hypnotized by the sight of that big slab of black meat penetrating the milky-white flesh of the victim. A slow, forceful, even-paced penetration that ended only when the full shaft was buried.
There wasn't a sound in the room, other than the muffled moans coming from the struggling, straining figure on the table. Everyone watched the face of the perspiring black man as he closed his eyes. The big grin disappearing as he began to grit his teeth and sway gently back and forth. His breathing became audible, got louder and deeper and finally gave way to a loud grunt. There was no mistaking what was happening-he was firing his cum up the tight passage. Georgia could feel the juice squirting, feel the male muscle pulse, then squirt, pulse, and squirt. Your insides are stretched to the limit, she remembered, and it swells up even bigger and squirts its cum into your brain.
The minutes seemed unbearable, but finally a much softer cock began to slide out of the flesh. And as soon as the head dropped out, the black man was wrapped in a robe and whisked off into the darkness.
Georgia tugged at John's arm to leave, but he paused a moment and when she glanced at the table, Arthur was already untied, wrapped in a robe and being removed from the arena.
"Let's get out of here!" she said to John as the lights went on in the room.
He led her out to the living room and she directed him straight to the bar. There was a tray of martinis waiting for them and Georgia drank the first one straight down, then put the glass back on the bar and took another from the tray.
"That was horrible," she said to John and was surprised to hear several people behind her agree. The bar had suddenly become crowded.
"It cost me over two thousand dollars," said Jenkins, who emptied a martini glass in one swallow too, then took another. "But I think I've helped Arthur more than if he had been Bent to prison. After the traumatic experience wears off, hell be better off."
"It could ruin him for life," Georgia snapped back angrily.
"I assure you the whole matter has been discussed with qualified psychiatrists and we are proceeding to carry out their recommendations for overcoming any hang-ups that could result from the experience," Jenkins responded, picking up a third martini. "And believe me-I feel worse than anyone about the whole thing."
"Then why-" Georgia started to ask, but was interrupted by Jenkins, who knew what she was going to ask.
"An experiment. That's all. Just an experiment." And he walked away.
CHAPTER SIX
By the time Georgia returned to her room she was exhausted from the day's activities. The scene in the game room was hardly a memory now. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl between those silky smooth sheets and sleep.
The twins were already asleep on a couch in the corner of the room, cuddled together in a ball. But they awoke as soon as Georgia entered the room. They met her with groggy heads, heavy eyes, and sleepy smiles. She told them to go back to sleep, but they didn't. Alexander went to the bathroom and began running water in the tub, while Adrian helped Georgia out of her clothes. Georgia went through the motions without any thought, climbed in the tub, followed by the twins and was washed by them, dried, and delivered to the big bed.
It was Adrian who asked, "Where do you want us to sleep, Miss Kingston?"
"Where do yon usually sleep?" she asked.
'In the bed," Alexander giggled.
"Then get in bed," she said and closed her eyes.
She could feel the children climb into bed-one on each side of her-climb under the covers, turn out the lights and snuggle against her warm body. Their naked bodies were cool against hers and she turned to face Adrian, pulling her close to warm the girl with the heat from her own body. Alexander didn't need any help.
She dreamt. But senseless dreams. Abstract dreams. Martinis sometimes did that to her. Flashing objects on the mind's screen-in color-but lacking any story. And the objects tonight began with a close-up of John Aumontjuer's cock. It appeared to be five feet tall, thick, in vivid colors, complete with popping blue veins and purplish head, alive and throbbing. But then it just faded away and a black phallus came from the darkness, growing bigger and bigger, oozing cum from a grinning eye.
She remembered the cocks, and vaguely remembered a tongue. John's tongue. Huge and so life-like. And an ass-hole. She remembered an ass-hole.
When she awoke the next morning it was still early and she had plenty of time before getting dressed to meet John at the pool for breakfast. She wondered how the young man that had been punished on the pool table felt this morning. And what sort of thing the congressman did when he retired to his room at night. And does John Aumontjuer sleep alone, or does he also have children in bed with him? Or maybe a girl. Liz?
Suddenly, without warning, the little girl was rising into the air. She opened her eyes with confused alarm and looked wide-eyed into the smiling face and dark eyes of the young man who had carried her valise when she first arrived. He was standing next to the bed, lifting Adrian from her place.
"Mr. Aumontjuer thought you might like a rubdown," he was saying through a broad grin.
"All right," Georgia said, happily, lazily.
Alexander was still snuggled close and she blushed all over when the young man whipped off the covers to reveal the hidden little boy.
"Time to get up," she heard him tell Alexander, lifting him from the bed. Then the olive-complexioned youth spoke to Georgia, "Turn on your stomach, please."
She obeyed. And he climbed onto the bed and straddled her hips. His talented fingers immediately began massaging her neck and shoulders. She could feel his bare ass resting gently on hers and the faint touch of his maleness brushing in the crack. The touch was nothing, but the vision of his heart-shaped spear resting so close to her treasure cove gave her pangs of delight.
"What's your name?" Georgia asked.
His thumbs pressed into the sides of her backbone, while his palms and fingers massaged expertly out to the sides. The long pause gave Georgia the impression that he didn't hear her or was ignoring the question. But he finally answered in a pleasant voice.
"Russ."
"What brings you here?" she gulped, as the weight of his body came down on his hands, forcing the breath from her lungs.
"I work here," he responded, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice-as though it was a stupid question.
As his fingers reached the rising mounds of Georgia's ass, he shifted his squatting position down to her legs and she could feel the soft, smooth head of his cock slide between the gloves of her ass-flesh. Soft? she asked herself, wondering how that could be-with her lying there naked and his male "feeler" nestled in the crack of her ass. Most guys would be going out of their minds, she told herself. Why isn't he? she worried.
His strong hands kneaded the firm balls of her ass until they began to tingle with the surge of blood rushing to the awakened flesh. His fingers didn't try to avoid the delicate sunburst hidden between the globes of white meat. During one squeeze, a finger actually lodged in the little elastic ring, giving her a pleasant sensation as it stretched open. But that was all! There was no attempt to explore-as any man would undoubtedly do, she reasoned-and he moved on down to her legs, leaving her in a state of confusion.
"Well, how did you get the job?" she tried to get the conversation going again.
"Mr. Autmontjuer is sponsoring me in drama school," Russ answered, with a hint of apology in his voice now. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew and were putting me on. Almost everyone here-the studs and concubines anyway-are in the arts, thanks to the generosity of Mr. Aumontjuer. It's the easiest way I know of working your way through school."
Now his hands were moving quickly and softly up and down her legs and he was kneeling off to the side. A most talented masseur, she thought, fully awake from the increased circulation of blood through her tingling body.
"And everyone gets to do his 'thing' around here," Russ continued in a more talkative mood. "Your obligation isn't squeezed out of you in sweat and blood-like most jobs. You get an opportunity to express yourself here...to experiment with new experiences. And actors must experience all aspects of life to portray it faithfully."
The feel of his fingers dancing all over her back, from head to toe now, was sending chills of delights through Georgia's body. The gentle brushing of his fingers between her legs as they glided softly over the tingling skin, fanned her desire for more. More touching between the legs. More fingers dancing on her itching cove. That burning little itch-was beginning to consume all her thoughts.
"And do you like your work?" she teased, searching with her hand to find his cock.
The rubdown was over. Russ relaxed, kneeling next to her and sitting back on his heels. She saw the smile broaden on his face as her hand reached under the toga for the massive male organ.
Still soft! The thought struck her as her fingers found the limp noodle resting between his legs. How could it be? she wondered in disbelief. She teased it now with her long, slender fingers, unable to accept the thought that she hadn't aroused the male flesh with her sensuous body. Just the sight of it should have built a fire in him, she told herself, as she frantically tried to milk it to erection. It stood like a flagpole for that girl yesterday. Why not for me?
"I don't think you'll find any life there," Russ was saying, but she brushed aside his words and brought her pouty, red lips to the tip of the sleeping giant's head, her big, blue eyes staring at it with a sexy, longing look, before sucking it into her mouth.
The handsome young man let the warmth of her mouth engulf his cock. He looked into her pretty face with a longing too-but no response from his limp shaft. Her suck-hollowed cheeks tormented him, but there was nothing he could do about it.
"Don't feel bad," he said softly. 'Tve been fucking away all night, and Pm sure they gave me a 'dose of saltpeter' before letting me come in to give you a rubdown."
Georgia let the limp flesh slip from between her lips and looked into his dark eyes. For the first time there was a warmth in his deep stare. "Why?" she asked naively.
"I was sent to give you a rubdown. Nothing else. The studs are never allowed to take advantage of a guest. And a rubdown can lead to sex, even if it isn't intended to at first. So the studs who are giving rubdowns are always loaded with blanks. Even if you ask for a stud...he always arrives after the rubdown, when the fire is built, so your passion is spent on the one you have chosen."
"And when will you be back in action?" Georgia asked.
"Probably tonight," Russ answered with a big grin. "Or tomorrow morning. Depending on how big a dose of deterrent they slipped me,"
"Then I'll ask for you," she whispered, lowering her eyes shyly, still fascinated by the sight of his limp cock and wanting him inside her. She was embarrassed by her own brazenness but unable to control her lust She stroked the soft cock affectionately, half believing that it couldn't possibly remain limp. But it did.
"I have to go," Russ finally said with a sigh, taking her fingers from his sleeping weapon. He slid off the bed and walked to the door, hesitated, as if to say something, but changed his mind and left without looking back at her.
"Your bath is ready," Adrian said from the door of the bathroom, and Georgia moved quickly from the bed to the bathtub, to drown the pulsing urge between her legs and quench the fire in her itching cunt.
The pool was actually built outside the house, enclosed for the winter months by a greenhouse-type structure and connected to the house by a passageway of the same glass framing. Along the walls, green plants and trees thrived on the humidity from the heated pool.
John was wearing wine colored slacks and a white turtleneck sweater. Georgia spotted him as soon as she entered with the twins. Almost at the same instant, John saw her and left the group of people he was chatting with and joined her. They sat at the nearest poolside table and were immediately brought trays of food, coffee, and juice-with or without vodka.
"Mmmmmm..." Georgia murmured, thinking for a moment. "I think I'll start with a Bloody Mary."
"Terrific idea," John added enthusiastically, signaling the girl at the juice cart to make it two. "You look as though you had a good night's rest."
"Oh, yes. Marvelous," Georgia chirped, determined to get off to a new approach with John. (One in which she' would be less on the defensive.) "And I see some of your guests are already off to another day of fun and frolic."
Her glance in the direction of the figures "swimming" at the shallow end of the pool made her point clear. Three naked girls were with a distinguished, middle-aged senator, playfully pawing at him, while one girl remained submerged, sucking on his cock. Hardly more than an arm's reach from the senator's group, a young man and girl were united at the loins, copulating as though no one else was around. And sitting across from them, at the edge of the pool with her feet dangling in the water, was the well-known gossip columnist, Brenda Babbit. A pretty, young girl bobbed up and down in the water, toying with the hairy bush between Brenda's legs.
Georgia had chosen a simple, white, pleated skirt and white sweater for the morning get-together and was glowing with pride at her choice. Everyone else, with the exception of John, was either naked or close to it. And she was drawing more attention than the naked girls running around the pool.
John just nodded at her reference to the early orgy that was starting in the pool. Then he tried to change the subject to his plants, but Georgia's attention shifted to the end of the pool, where she noticed Mr. Jenkins was about to enter the water with three playful girls. The girls were all very attractive; in their late teens, Georgia decided, and probably models. But it was Jenkins she was most concerned with. What sort of man was he? she wondered. Why had he arranged for that ritual, when it seemed to upset him so?
It wasn't just Jenkins and the girls that held her attention, Georgia realized. There was something about to happen, and everyone was starting to focus their attention on the group.
Georgia saw two young men approaching the side of the pool with what appeared to be a respirator, oxygen, and first aid equipment. She knew something was about to take place-and it didn't appear to be of a pleasant nature.
Across the pool Brenda Babbit had lifted her feet from the water and rested her heels on the edge, which brought her knees almost up to her chin, while she spread her legs wide apart, looking something like a giant frog. Brenda was in her late forties and Georgia couldn't help feeling repulsed by the position she had taken. Georgia was looking straight into the junction of her legs, into the hairy bush, the lips of her cunt and even her anus. But Brenda wasn't aware of Georgia's disgusted stare, her own eyes were focused on the group at the end of the pool. She reached down and got a firm grip on the hair of the young girl in the water below, bringing the girl's head up to her cunt by pulling the fistful of hair and forcing the girl's face into the middle of her legs.
"Perhaps we should leave," John suggested, snapping Georgia out of her wide-eyed stare.
"Why? What's going to happen."
"Just a little game of skill," John answered, but pushed away from the table to leave before it started. He didn't want Georgia to experience another unpleasant scene as she had at the previous night's "ceremony"-because he was beginning to realize the more she saw, the more she held him responsible. And instead of drawing her to him, it was driving her away.
"What kind of game?" Georgia asked, not making any effort to leave with him.
"One of the girls will attempt to bring Jenkins to a climax-orally-while the others hold her underwater. The trick is to do it before you run out of air."
"And if she doesn't?"
"That's what the rescue team is for. I think we'd better go."
"If there's no danger, I'd like to watch."
John slumped back into his chair, a bit uneasy about staying. His only hope was for Jenkins to reach a quick climax-but he didn't put too much faith in that miracle happening.
So our bank president really IS a sadist after all, Georgia told herself, as she watched the girls getting ready for the dive.
The girl who chose to attempt the underwater feat was a petite brunette. She had a pretty face, Georgia noted, with a cute turned-up nose and a small, but sensuous mouth. Her wide, brown eyes were dancing with excitement as she nervously bounced up and down in the water, taking deep breaths of air as an exercise before dunking her head underwater. Her two companions, taller girls with more fully developed bodies, were joking with her and helping her get ready for the task. But Jenkins was just standing chest deep in the water, leaning against the side of the pool and calmly waiting for the girl to get started. Georgia could only get little glimpses of his cock, but as far as she could tell it was limp.
Everyone's attention was on the naked group now, as the girl faced Jenkins, stared into his eyes and slipped her dainty hands down to his groin. Jenkins was the picture of casualness, Georgia observed. She watched him stand there with his arms resting straight out along the ledge of the pool, staring at the girl with an air of indifference and apparently oblivious to the spectators who were closing in for a better view.
The pretty brunette began to milk his limp tube of skin into a firmer weapon. Slowly, patiently, she continued to draw the rubbery tube, hand over hand, into a state of hardness. When she was finally ready, she took an extra deep breath and submerged. The two girls, one either side of her, each placed one hand on her buttocks, insuring complete submersion. The girl's small mouth engulfed the head of Jenkins' hardening cock. She worked just the ballooning, purplish mushroom at the end of his swollen member between her elastic lips.
Georgia caught herself holding her own breath as she watched. Across the way she saw Brenda pulling that girl's face harder into the junction of her legs. The girl was struggling with the awkward position she was in-half in and half out of the water-trying to support herself so her weight wouldn't all be on the fistful of hair Brenda was clutching.
Now the young girl had most of Jenkins' cock in her mouth and was sucking on it, milking it with her tongue and letting small bursts of air bubbles out of her mouth around his swollen meat.
How much longer can she stay under? Georgia asked herself. The girl's body had already begun to tense up and the girls holding her down were exerting more force now. Then her legs began to kick and her small hands were clutching at Jenkins' body, trying to pull herself up for air. Her fingers were digging into his skin, scratching at his buttocks for a hold that would get her to the surface.
Only at this point did the middle-aged bank president begin to show signs of interest. He brought his arms off the edge of the pool, reached down into the mass of dark-brown hair that was streaming toward the surface of the water and pulled her head harder against his groin, forcing his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. The two girls let her shoulders go and grabbed her arms, pulling her clutching fingers from Jenkins' body and pushing down harder.
"Ooohhh...oohhhh.. . " sounds came from Brenda, who was locking her legs around that girl's head and squeezing with all her might. Brenda's eyes were wide and glassy, but fixed on the struggle that was going on in the water.
The girl underwater was frantically fighting for air now. The big cock was driving down her throat, choking her, while her lungs screamed for air. Every muscle in her body was twitching.
Finally Jenkins closed his eyes, set his jaw tight-paused-then rocked back and forth as he spent his cum. He pulled the girl tighter and held her there until every last drop of juice was deposited in her mouth. Then, and not a second sooner, he released his grip on the girl's head and rested his arms back on the pool's ledge.
"Ooooohhhhh..." Brenda let out a yell. "Ahhhhh...ahhh...ahhh," she cried as she worked out her orgasm on the girl's face.
The two girls pulled the limp girl's head above water and Georgia could see white cream floating from her mouth on the surface of the water. They smacked her on the back several times and she coughed up more cum, while the two men with the rescue equipment got ready to jump into the water after her. But the girl coughed and gagged on her own and gasped for precious air. She had to be lifted bodily from the water and they put the oxygen mask on her face, but only briefly. The girl sat up and grinned at her friends, victorious. The men gave her more oxygen and carried her away.
Several of the male spectators helped Jenkins out of the pool and he too was pampered. They wrapped him in a robe and the two girls led him away, as the spectators congratulated him.
Sonofabitch! Georgia growled under her breath.
Brenda left the poolside too. Her companion was still hanging on the ledge, splashing water on her reddened face, where Brenda's coarse pubic hair had irritated the skin around her mouth and nose. She had to be helped from the water, too exhausted to lift herself up.
Georgia turned to face John, whose eyes were lowered and obviously trying to avoid hers. She couldn't bring herself to criticize him. Not again. Not after the young girl finished her task with a triumphant grin-as if to prove to her friends that she could do it
"Oh, by the way," Georgia said instead, "I'd like to have that handsome young stud, er, Russ, I think his name is-the dark one."
"Yes, of course," John answered quickly, taking her by complete surprise. She had expected to hurt him with the request
"He's a nice guy," she added weakly, for want of something better to say.
"Anything you want is yours," John said in that suave, charming voice of his, "but.. . "
Georgia waited for him to finish, but he didn't
"But what?" she finally asked after a long pause.
"Nothing," he said softly, pausing again. "It's just that.. . "
It's just that you thought Fd want YOU instead, she thought, completing the statement under her breath, but not saying anything aloud to him. She was enjoying his stammering, squirming predicament. Confident that she had him where she wanted him now.
"Wefi," he started again, "it's just that I thought you were bored with sex-at least you said you were getting bored with sex-at least I was hoping you'd give my little theory time to work."
Theory! Georgia thought. What theory? He had taken her by complete surprise.
John saw the confused expression on her face and went on to explain. "Remember I told you that young people rush into sex so fast that they soon lose interest?" She nodded that she remembered. "Well, that's what you're doing if you just go from one stud to another-expecting some new and exciting thing to happen just because the face is different. But it never does.. .
"As I mentioned before, you have to build a desire for sex. A longing. Fan the desire into a raging fire-don't put it out with the first few pangs of need. Hold out until you need it so bad you could die-then you will really enjoy it. And after that, just remembering how much you wanted it will excite you."
Georgia was completely stunned now. She remembered. And she did want to increase her enjoyment. But how long did she have to abstain? she wondered. She wanted male meat in her cunt right now! Last night! On the trip up to the island! How long did she have to wait? And she was also depressed by the fact that she had lost the offensive with John and was back on the defensive. But another thought came to mind and she jumped at the opportunity to keep him from getting the best of her.
"What about last night?" she asked with a tone of sarcasm. "Didn't we both experience orgasms then?"
"Yes, of course," John interrupted, smiling broadly. "But an orgasm is wonderful-the more the better-without the actual act. What we did only increases the desire for the real thing. In its absence we use substitutes. But the substitutes increase our desire for the real male-female union."
Georgia drifted into deep thought over that. She admitted that he had a point-her longing for a satisfying, cunt-filling cock was uppermost in her mind at this moment. But she didn't know how long she could impose this self-denial on herself. And remembering how she had rushed home to seduce her father, fanned her longing even more, but also proved John's point It had been one of the most delicious, satisfying experiences she had had in a long time, she recalled. The juices were already dampening her panties at the thought of her father's rigid spear entering the soft walls of her insides. She could even picture her sensitive cunt lips spreading around his smooth skin and feel the long tube slipping up her insides. She began to get homesick.
"I'll try," she said sheepishly, smiling at John but trying to avoid his eyes.
They left the pool and strolled through the house. Georgia's eyes caught glimpses of sex acts in every direction, but she was determined not to think about them. Not let them bother her. But she couldn't help herself.
"Would you like a drink?" John asked, interrupting her concentration.
"Er, fine, yes, I'll have another Bloody Mary."
No one else seems to pay attention to each other's sexual behavior, she rationalized, as she sat down to wait for her drink-and watch. Not once had she heard a criticism about a sex act. Those who didn't like a certain scene simply moved on in silence.
"Several people are leaving," John said as he handed her the drink, "and I have to see them off."
"That's all right," Georgia responded, giving John a big smile to show she was in a better mood.
"I'll only be gone a few minutes," he said reassuringly, and walked off.
It was the first time Georgia could remember the two of them not acting like cat and mouse; with one on the defensive and the other playing the lead. She decided John was not such a bad guy after all. Maybe if he wasn't so short and so much older, she thought, as she watched him cross the room, I might even be able to fall for him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once Georgia stopped being critical and accepted the fact that she was a guest at an orgy, the time slipped away quickly and pleasantly. John was with her the entire day, leaving her only for brief farewells to prominent guests. They had lunch in the large dining room with the other guests, but took dinner alone in the same small, private room. It wasn't until it was time to retire that Georgia found herself thinking about the pleasure of going to bed with a man. But it became apparent that John had no intention of filling that wish. He walked her back to her room, gave her a breathtaking kiss and left.
She found herself alone in the room. The absence of the twins puzzled her, but she preferred to think they were tucked away in the nursery. It was late, she realized, and she was weary from being on the go all day. She went through the motions of getting ready for bed; filling the bath while she brushed her hair at the mirror and analyzed the image looking back at her. The running water drowned out any other noise and she was suddenly startled when she caught something out of the corner of her eye moving at the door. Her head jerked around and she saw the dark, handsome stud standing in the doorway. He was smiling at her and those sexy eyes danced with delight.
"Russ," she found herself saying, "I hate to be a bitch, but I'd prefer being alone.. . "
"Perhaps if s better this way," he said seriously. "The mind is willing, but the flesh is still pretty weak. And Fd hate to disappoint you. I've been uptight all day thinking about it."
Georgia smiled at his honesty and watched him leave. She wondered about John then. Was he testing her? Or didn't he care? A very difficult man to figure out, she concluded as she stepped into the bath. And why is it so important to understand him? That bothered her more than anything.
The warm water sent delicious tingles through her body. Especially as it licked at her sex before she lowered herself completely. Then it slithered over her body in a blanket of warmth and security, driving out all her tensions and relaxing the tired muscles.
She couldn't avoid looking at herself. Everywhere she looked there were mirrors. Being alone like this was disturbing because she found herself being too critical of her body. Being a tall blonde was fine. That much she liked. But the rising breasts didn't rise far enough-in her opinion. Then again, her hips seemed a little too full, she thought. And while men seemed to be wild about her long, shapely legs, to her they were just a little too heavy.
In an attempt to stop thinking about her imperfections, she began soaping herself and found her body responding to the touch of her fingers. When she soaped her breasts, the nipples popped up hard and quivering. As she moved down her stomach little tingles of anticipation stirred between her legs. She began to wonder if she had done the right thing by sending Russ away. Having a man now would be the perfect ending to the day.
Then she heard the bedroom door close and she panicked from force of habit, forgetting everything else as she listened and waited.
"Ohhh..." she sighed with relief when Liz came into view. "I was startled when I heard the door close. Been reading too many murder books."
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Liz said in a soft apologetic voice. "Mr. Aumontjuer asked me to see if you needed anything."
"No, I'm fine," Georgia replied, as Liz approached the bathroom door. She couldn't help but envy the beautiful face and shape of this very sweet, young girl.
Liz stopped at the door, indicating to Georgia that despite the atmosphere on this island, this girl was just a shy, innocent thing at heart. Her big doe-like eyes sparkled, and Georgia found herself getting jealous.
"The twins went on a trip with their parents this afternoon and aren't back yet," Liz said, still speaking in a soft, sexy voice. "But as soon as they get back they'll come in."
"It's terribly late for them to be up," Georgia said, reaching for a towel.
Liz quickly stepped over to the tub, opened the towel and held it for Georgia. Then she helped blot the water from Georgia's back.
"I sure wish I had your shape," Liz admitted shyly.
"You must be kidding," Georgia said with a smile. "I was just telling myself the same thing about yours."
"I guess we're never satisfied with what we have," Liz said with a sigh. "But I always wanted to be a sexy blonde like you. Would you mind if I stayed in your room until the twins get back?"
"I'd be happy to have the company," Georgia said honestly.
"I get depressed when I'm alone so much," Liz added.
It came as a complete shock to Georgia, but she didn't allow it to show. For some reason she trusted Liz, but just couldn't accept the idea that she wasn't John's whore.
"Which side of the bed do you want?" Georgia asked, still wrapped in the towel and wanting to get under the covers.
"It doesn't matter," Liz answered. She went to the bed and pulled back the covers for Georgia to get in.
Georgia felt a bit self-conscious dropping the towel to get in bed. It gave her a queasy feeling being naked before the eyes of such a shy girl. So close, too. But she managed to be graceful in her haste to get under the covers. Then Liz put out the lights and got into the bed on the other side.
For a while the room was silent and Georgia just luxuriated in the feel of the bed, the cool sheets, and the drowsiness that was engulfing her thoughts. But the silence was broken by a muffled sound. Georgia opened her eyes and listened. It sounded again, but it wasn't distinguishable.
"Liz.. . " Georgia whispered.
There was a pause and finally a muffled, strained reply.
"Yes?"
"Are you all right?" Georgia asked, realizing now that the sound was coming from Liz.
"I'll be all right," Liz answered between sniffles.
Georgia could hear the sobs now. She reached for the light on the table. "What's wrong, Liz?"
"Oh, Georgia," the young girl cried openly, "I'm so depressed."
"Now come on," Georgia tried to comfort her, suddenly realizing she was holding the girl's head to her bosom, as she might have done if it was Adrian-or any crying child. But it seemed strange to have such a big girl nestled there. And the damp cheek on her breast gave her a chill. Just a little girl, Georgia kept telling herself to relieve that guilty feeling.
"I wish I was dead," Liz managed to say between sobs and sniffles.
The words were spoken into Georgia's breast and the girl's warm, wet mouth flashed a strange sensation through Georgia's body. She tried not to pay attention to it, but it settled in a warm, pleasant glow between her legs. Suddenly she was fighting that guilt feeling with more force, trying to ignore the aching, itching, burning feeling in her cunt. Just an honest feeling of compassion, she tried to convince herself.
"Why don't you tell me about it?" she managed to say through the dizzy, upset, confused feeling in her head.
"It's just that I'm so lonely and depressed," Liz said, conquering her sobs, but still sniffling.
Georgia felt a teardrop slither down her tit and stop on her nipple. The nipple hardened. And the thought of the salty droplet perched on her tit made everything worse. She could almost taste it.
It was all so innocent, Georgia tried to tell herself. But the move Liz made had brought her body against Georgia's. The girl's breasts were pressed into her stomach and Georgia found the sensitive hairs of her groin touching the girl's leg. It took all the restraint she had to overcome the urge to press her burning cunt lips against the smooth leg-but she didn't have to. In the next instant Liz moved and her leg pressed the moist spot between Georgia's legs. And Georgia discovered she was opening her legs to allow Liz to slip hers in between them.
"I'm in love with John," Liz said, crying harder and sobbing in uncontrolled bursts. "But he treats me like...like...a daughter."
"I didn't-realize..."
"And all the young men keep away from me..." Liz sobbed, "and-I need a man, Georgia-I need a man so bad."
Georgia drew the girl's face tighter to her breasts by pressing gently on the back of her head, muffling the sound of her sobs with the flesh of her tit. See, she told herself, the girl is just a lovesick child.
"Have you tried leaving him?" Georgia asked. "Sometimes a guy doesn't know he loves you until he thinks he's losing you."
"I have no place to go. My parents are in California and I just can't go back there. And besides, it's too far away from-"
"Then make him jealous," Georgia said with conviction. "That always makes them ' take notice."
"But none of the guys will even look at me."
Georgia gave that problem some thought and couldn't find a solution. Especially if John was warning the men to stay away from her. But then an idea struck her so hard, that she instantly knew it was perfect. She bubbled with enthusiasm. "I've got the solution!" she announced. "You can date my brother. He's crazy about you anyway. And it'll be the perfect match to jolt John to his senses. Mostly because Steve is independent-but he's also handsome, young, and if I do say so myself, well, he's equipped for the job."
To show her appreciation, Liz planted a warm kiss on Georgia's tear-covered breast.
"Ohhh...Liz...please...don't do that," Georgia groaned, visibly shaken by the effect the kiss had on her.
But instead of stopping, Liz opened her mouth and covered the sensitive nipple with it, sucking as much of the tender meat into her mouth as she could. Then slowly she let it slip out again, her lips sliding down to the very tip of the rock-hard nipple.
"I love you, Georgia," she sighed. "You're the only friend I have. The only one I can talk to."
Georgia's breath was taken away by the kiss. Honey was oozing from between her legs onto the firm, smooth leg that was nestled there. And Liz must have known it, she realized, because the smooth leg was rubbing gently, up and down, harder and harder.
"You're the nicest person I've ever met," Liz continued, filling Georgia's already spinning head with more flattering remarks. "I'd do anything for you, Georgia-anything."
Georgia couldn't say a word. She wanted to tell Liz to turn over and go to sleep. She wanted to tell her she was repulsed by the thought of two girls-that two girls shouldn't-it was wrong for girls. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. So she gave the girl a little hug. Just an understanding little squeeze-to let her know she appreciated the compliments.
The gentle hug spurred Liz on to more daring displays of affection. She sucked Georgia's tit into her mouth again, milking it now with her tongue, while her hand slid down Georgia's back and caressed the plump balls of meat, encouraging the grinding motion that was taking place on her leg.
She doesn't understand! Georgia screamed to herself. Or does she?
The fire was raging inside her now. It was useless to think of anything else. All she could do was keep rubbing her cunt on the smooth skin between her legs, she decided, until the feeling passed. Pretend the sucking mouth is a child's. Pretend the exploring finger down the crack of my ass isn't there at all. Pretend the leg that's pressing at the door to my burning cunt-that firm, smooth, cylinder between my legs-is John's cock!
Georgia lost all control at the thought of having a giant cock between her legs and hugged Liz tighter, while riding out an orgasm on the girl's leg. The release it gave her was just enough to relax the tensions of her body and mind. She finally opened her legs to free the leg and relaxed her grip on the girl's head. But Liz wasn't finished. In one move she threw off the covers and dove head first between Georgia's legs.
"Ohhhhh," Georgia groaned when she felt the warm mouth swoop down on her cunt. "Stop-stop," she cried as the heat of the wet mouth covered her flaming vaginal lips.
Liz didn't hear her, she thought, when the mouth pressed harder. She opened her eyes to see Liz carefully moving her leg to the other side-to straddle her while she sucked at her cunt. Georgia found herself staring into the hairy bush that covered the girl's cunt. There was no use trying to stop the gobbling mouth now, Georgia decided. She wanted it!
There was no indication from Liz that she was going to lower herself onto Georgia's mouth. Georgia just stared up at the smooth ass and the triangle of fluffy hair. But the odor of sex juice was stinging her nostrils. Liz had slipped her hands under Georgia's buttocks, digging her fingers into the balls of flesh-one finger burning into her anus-while she kissed and sucked with passion. And Georgia could feel herself building up to a bigger, better, orgasm than before.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Georgia began to make out the details in the shadows between the girl's spread legs: the small opening between those perfectly matched globes of flesh, the pink lips of her vagina-pulsing slightly and getting damp.
Georgia found herself reaching up to feel the firm ass, running her finger down the crack and poking it into the tight tunnel. Liz must have liked that, she thought, because the girl was sucking harder and faster now. And Georgia watched her own finger slither into the opening and disappear into the squeezing sleeve. She eased it out and reached up with both hands to bring the girl down to her mouth.
Now she sucked and squeezed ass-flesh and dug a burning finger into a sucking ass-hole. It didn't bother her at all, she realized. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. And when Liz snaked out her tongue, Georgia countered with her own tongue. Both girls felt the excitement increase. Georgia circled the gasping cunt with the tip of her tongue. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Liz went wild. Then Liz repeated the sensation at the door to Georgia's passionate cove. That was all she needed-her orgasm began to erupt. They both drove their tongues into the velvet soft sleeves and let the rest take care of itself, as they squeezed out furious relief on snaking tongues.
"Oh, Georgia," Liz sighed, turning herself around so they were face to face again. "You don't know how much I needed that."
"Mmmmmm, me too," Georgia sighed, looking back at her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a little after nine in the morning when Georgia awoke, finding Liz still nestled in her arms. The twins hadn't returned and she wondered if they were all right. She allowed herself a few moments to look at the girl in her arms before stirring to get up. The naked girl was warm and soft against her own naked body, and she found herself admiring the firm, well-turned form again. Then those big brown eyes opened and the girls smiled at each other.
"Mmmmmmmm...I feel wonderful," Liz cooed.
"Do you think it's a good idea to let anyone see you in here?" Georgia asked with concern.
"No!" Liz answered, springing to a sitting position, fully awakened by the thought. "I'd better go. See you later." She rushed off, barely pulling her toga in place as she opened the door.
In the shower Georgia tried to straighten out her thoughts about all that had happened to her over the weekend. Last night she was positive the affair with Liz would bother her conscience-give her guilt feelings the next morning. But for some reason she didn't seem to have any feeling at all about it. Other than it was an enjoyable release-and satisfied that she brought Liz to a climax too. It was over and she didn't regret it at all. Which surprised her.
When she joined John for breakfast she discovered they were leaving the island before noon and that most of the guests had already gone. She hadn't discussed the plans with John, but assumed weekend trips would last through Sunday evening.
"Never overextend a good thing," John explained. "By tomorrow everyone will be thinking of the good time they had and begin building an appetite for another trip. If everyone stayed an extra day it would become too much of a chore finding new experiences and they would get bored.
"All right," Georgia said with a smile of acceptance. "But I'd like to ask you a personal question-about your weekend."
"I can guess what it is," John said with a grin.
"Well? What's the answer? What did you do to entertain yourself?"
"I spent the weekend with a very beautiful, charming girl," he said softly. "But other than our expression of wild passion on Friday night-had no sexual experiences."
"You mean to say--? "
"It may be hard to believe, but the host doesn't necessarily have to play the games he helps his guests to enjoy."
That thought plagued Georgia throughout the flight back to the Long Island Sound. Several times she was tempted to press the issue, but always managed to talk herself out of it. John Aumontjuer was a very unusual man, she admitted. Maybe a bullshit artist, but perhaps a challenge worth exploring. A little mystery adds spice to your life, she reflected.
But there wasn't any mystery about what was making Liz so anxious. The minute the two of them were alone, Liz quickly whispered "Don't forget about your brother. Be sure to have him call me."
It wasn't until Georgia was in her own room that the effects of the weekend began to settle heavily on her mind. The room reminded her that just a week ago she was stretched out on this very lounge, coaxing a flame into her own empty cove. Then Steve filled it for her, satisfying her momentarily with his thick meat buried in her yielding cunt, filling her body with its throbbing presence. And down the hall, in the bathroom, she had experienced the most satisfying seduction of all. The forbidden dream come to life-her father's cock in her cunt.
Just as she was slipping out of her dress, the door opened and Steve poked his head into the room.
"Got a second, Georgia?" he asked before entering.
"Sure," she answered, suddenly aware that she was glad to see her brother.
"How was your weekend?" he asked politely, but she could tell he had something else on his mind.
"Oh...not bad, I guess," she replied.
It was Steve's wide eyes that brought her to the realization that she was standing in just her bra and panties. He swallowed hard and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Don't tell me you've got your Sunday hots again," she teased.
"Not 'til now," he moaned, as if in pain. "But you sure as hell have a way of bringing it on."
"I'll put on a robe if it bothers you," she offered.
"I just wanted to know if you saw Elizabeth," he went on, ignoring her suggestion.
"As a matter-of-fact I did. And I also arranged for her to at least give you a chance. Sort of on a trial basis. She's willing to go out with you once-anyway."
Steve didn't seem to notice her teasing comments. His eyes were fascinated by what he couldn't see under her scanty panties. He watched the round globes of her ass move, tantalizing his mind with the slow, bouncing motion, as she walked to the closet. Her breasts strained to pop out of the confinement of the bra, when she reached up for her robe.
"How about a quickie?" he asked in almost a pleading voice.
"I'm on a self-imposed diet," she sighed, turning to face him. "No male meat."
"Is anything wrong?"
"No. I was told it does wonders for you."
"Sounds crazy to me," he said, juggling the stiffness in his pants to a more comfortable position.
Georgia saw the move her brother made, watched the bulge shift in his pants, and saw the hungry look in his eyes.
"Who am I kiddin'? " she said with a laugh, reaching back to undo her bra. "Your place or mine?"
"I'll never make the trip back to my place," Steve answered, already pulling off his shirt.
Georgia jumped on the bed, bouncing on her knees and watching her brother struggle eagerly out of his clothes. And Steve was staring right back, watching her bouncing breasts, anticipating the feel of quivering nipples that would soon be his. He struggled quickly out of his clothes, hands trembling, going limp and breathless for her now. Then he saw the eager expression of her face as his prick planked out from his shorts in full, ripe view, her hot, entranced eyes fixed hypnotically on the fat and fruity knob that would be charging at her in a minute. The fumbling finally ended and he was out of his clothes, making a dash for the bed and what was under those brief panties.
"Not so fast, big brother. I want more than just a fast fuck," she screeched, bouncing out of his reach and laughing. "I want you to show off that big prick of yours."
Steve stood at the side of the bed and stared at her in complete bewilderment. He didn't quite understand what it was she wanted. A glance at his standing cock, her face, then back to the cock, still didn't give him the picture.
"Play with it, silly. I want to see you squeeze it, pull it, and make it blow up."
"Hey, come on, let's stop all this fuckin' around and fuck around," Steve said, start-ting to get on the bed again.
"No deal. Play with it or no cookie," she teased.
Steve stood up straight, reached down with his right hand and began an uninspired imitation of jacking-off. But he felt foolish and annoyed at the request. Especially when he could see his reflection in the mirror. But Georgia's eyes strained with wild delight at the sight of the mushroom head ballooning bigger and bigger, harder and harder. This is the meat she had dreamed about all weekend, she told herself, breathing in gasping pants at the sight of it now, just inches away and dying to get in that mushy cunt and blast its fury up her insides.
Finally Georgia gave him the signal to join her on the bed, but he hesitated. He was pissed-off at the little game she'd made him play. The little bitch is so damned sure she's gonna get it, he thought, that I'll play the tease now. Make her crawl for it.
Slowly, Georgia moved to a sitting position, sensing that her brother's feeling had been hurt by her teasing. When she was sitting with her feet pointing straight toward him, she slowly spread her legs, her tongue coming out to circle her mouth as if tasting the head of his manly spear. And he was growing weaker. His eyes were fixed on the dampness in the crotch of her panties, nostrils flexing to pick up the fragrance, eyeing that hidden cove, waiting for it to snap at him.
"I want that big cock of yours, Steve. In my cunt, filling me with throbbing fat meat.'-'
Cautiously, Steve began to crawl onto the bed. He didn't want any more threats or foolish games. Just that fully developed body, with heaving tits and longing cunt. He carefully reached for her panties-expecting another order-slowly slid them down her legs, little by little, gawking at the golden fleece that would soon part for the thrust of his weapon.
Once her panties were off, Georgia moved down to the head of his towering cock. She wanted to smell it first, taste it, but only briefly. Then let it do its job on the walls of her longing cunt. Her brother stared in amazement as she touched the divine rod with the gentlest touch, kissing the knob of it with a soft brushing of her lips, while breathing the man-smell of it
"You act like you're all hopped up," Steve said in a cautious tone.
"I am hopped up. But not the way you think," she answered, never taking her eyes off his stretched-tight cock, and moving as though it was all in slow motion. "I'm high on the fragrance of a real, live, throbbing cock. And the knowledge of where it's going and how it's gonna feel!"
"What the hell happened over the weekend?" he demanded.
"It's not what happened, so much, as what didn't happen. And I didn't have one of these juicy, ripe, belly-tickling cocks. But I wanted one so bad it hurt."
Steve moved between her legs and pressed her back to the bed, where she remained motionless, watching and waiting. It made him feel uneasy. This wasn't like her. She seemed to be acting so strange. Slowly, he brought his tumescent muscle to the entrance of her cunt, guiding it with his hand and watching her face. The mere touch of the head against her burning cunt lips twisted her face into a painful expression.
"Oohhhh...oohhhh..." she groaned, writhing slightly at the first touch. "Oohhhh..." she gulped, as the head parted the lips and peeked inside. In a little more it moved. "Ahhhh...ohhhhh...don't move it. . . don't move it...ohhh...ohhh."
The sight of her writhing body was almost too much to resist, but he held his prong at the entrance and waited for her to reach a climax. A climax! he thought. Before it's in!
"Mmmmmm..." she sighed with relief, breathing heavy and fast. "Now fuck me. Fuck me like you never fucked before."
The feel of his spearhead driving up the soft walls of her insides was the most glorious sensation she could remember. How tight she fit around it, she thought, opening wider and wider to get it all in, rotating her hips to feel it swish around her insides.
"How's that?" Steve growled. "Or do you want more?"
"All of it...I want all of it."
Another plunge of the blunt-nosed piston, driving more meat into the empty cove, seated the full shaft. And Steve was alive from the power that was now his. Only the ache in his balls reminded him that a moment would come when he'd lose his strength and all the power and might that was now his, and it would all drain from him. But for the present, he was in command.
Georgia met his plunging, driving cock with equally hard bounces, as much force as possible. It occupied her whole body. Her whole mind. It was where it belonged, satisfying the need it was created for-her need. She dug her nails into Steve's back, wrapped her legs around his hips, driving him as deep as possible with her heels.
"Mmmmmmm...mmmm...aaahhhh," she cried in his ear, letting him know she was on her second orgasm. "More, Steve, more."
Sonofabitch! Steve screamed to himself, pumping his flexing muscle in and out with all his might, feeling that rumble in his balls signaling the big explosion. While one hand squeezed like hell on a tit, the other hand was under her ass, digging at her flesh for leverage, lifting her to meet each plunge.
"Here it comes..." he whispered breathlessly. "Are you ready for it?"
"Ready," Georgia cooed, feeling the heaving muscle jerk in the depths of her stomach. "Give me all you've got."
There was an explosion that reached up to her brain; her insides flooding with his hot juices, the cream mixing with her own fluids and stinging delightfully. She lifted her thighs to meet every throbbing thrust, sucking with all her strength. This is what she missed. The one ingredient that was left out of all those other sex experiences. The flush of cum on the walls of her aching insides; the quenching waters that flooded the raging fire.
"Oooohhhh...Steve..." she cried. "It hurts so good."
"Mmmmmmm..." he answered, lowering his drooling mouth onto a hard-nippled tit, sucking its delicious meat.
"Mmmmmmmm..." Georgia groaned and sank her teeth into his shoulder.
They kept their groins pressed tightly together, rotating and grinding more pleasure into each other's sex. Each enjoyed the taste of the other's body, as Steve licked at the captured tit and Georgia sucked on his shoulder.
"Tell me about your weekend," Steve said when they finally parted.
"What would you like to know? I already let it slip that I didn't get laid."
'Teah, but not everyone gets invited to John's private island and I want to know what it's like up there."
"Well, let's see-there's lots of pretty girls running around, naked and available at the snap of your finger. Studs too for the women guests."
"That's what I heard," Steve said, as he sat back on the bed, giving her all his attention and not hiding the fact that he was fascinated.
"And everywhere you look there are big names-politicians, actors, you name it, all fuckin' away. Men with women, women with women-every way you can imagine."
"I'd give my right arm to see it just once. You've gotta get me an invitation, Georgia. I have to see this place for myself. I want to see-it all. Find out for myself what it's like to just do any fuckin' thing that comes into my head."
"Well, call Liz and see if she can arrange for an invite-I doubt if I'll ever go back. Somehow all that sex seemed too wild."
"Then how come you came home with the hots? And the way you humped-it was like you'd been dying for it for years."
"All I ask for is a good stiff cock-not all the imagine stuff. And John saw to it that I didn't get any. That's why I went wild at the sight of yours."
Steve got up and started to pull on his pants. "Do you think it's too soon to call Liz?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Mmmmmmmm...maybe you should wait another five minutes," she cooed. "And while you're waiting-let me have another look at that shiny prick of yours."
Steve stopped abruptly, his pants not covering the fleshy white cheeks of his ass yet. He turned slowly and flashed his hanging muscle at her, pretending that was all she would get, just a quick glimpse of his male meat, as he struggled to hide it from her.
"Come over here, you rotten thing," Georgia ordered.
Steve dropped his pants, stepped out of them, and walked to the bed. His sister's eyes never moved from the limp, swinging tube of flesh that dangled between his legs. Never before had he seen such hungry eyes. He stopped at the edge of the bed and she rolled over to him, her back on the bed and her face under the head of his prong. The juices from both their bodies were drying on it, making it sticky and ripe.
Georgia stuffed a pillow between her legs, squeezed it hard and fixed her eyes on the male organ. She licked a path from his balls to the tip, around the head and sucked it slowly into her mouth. It began to harden. She carefully licked it clean, covering every inch, watching it flex harder and harder before her eyes. Then when it stood at its fullest, she took it in both her hands and forced the spike into her mouth, releasing her orgasm on the soft pillow between her legs.
But as soon as Georgia finished her grinding climax, she removed the mighty serpent from her mouth and began to move away.
"What's the idea?" Steve asked. Confused at her move.
"I'm finished," she announced. "Take it away."
"You fuckin' bitch!" He grabbed her by the hair, forced her lips apart by digging his thumbs into her cheeks, and sank his puffing shaft back into the warmth of her mouth. Deep into her throat he drove it, as far as it would go without choking her to death, and let his cum spill out, watching it ooze from the corners of her mouth.
"Mmmmmm..." she said when he finished, licking the cream from her lips. "Now wasn't that fun? Taking it by force, I mean?"
"Sometimes I can't figure you out," Steve answered, going back for his clothes.
CHAPTER NINE
For John Aumontjuer, the weekends on his island were no longer entertaining. For that matter, they never really were. Now, for the first time in his life, he had met someone who didn't fall madly in love with him-idolize him-and he felt himself slipping into the love trap.
He remembered a time, and not so very long ago, when he had absolutely nothing. A childhood of poverty. Then he thought of the years when he set out to make a name for himself, through hard work and determination-only to find failure at every turn. No time for girls in those days, when sex was an expensive luxury that would have to wait until he was established. But his failures began to take their toll, dampening his enthusiasm, crushing his determination.
Finally a day came when he sat back and took a fresh look at himself and the world around him. It was depressing. He had a weak educational background, had very few friends-none in a position to help his career-was only average in looks and build, and didn't have a vehicle, trade, or profession to get him to his goal-wealth.
There was one thing that seemed to nag him-every man he knew, young or old-rich or poor, always wanted to talk about sex. (A subject about which he was at least knowledgeable.) And it was apparent that a person could harness this weakness in mento advantage. He had heard about salesmen hiring prostitutes to please a client and getting an order out of the whole thing. It was a subject that called for some thought and he set out to educate himself. The first lesson almost made him a dropout. Right from the start he discovered that sex and money went hand in hand. No money-no sex! At least not for a guy with his average looks. Girls just didn't come knocking at his door-and for that matter, when he did the knocking, there was no one home! But fifteen dollars on a street corner in Manhattan could make the world of difference.
Her name was Chicky. A gum-chewing, tough kid, with too much makeup and not enough clothes, who led him to a cheap hotel room and said "Okay, sport, take 'em off."
"Look, this is my first. So take it easy," he gulped.
"I ain't got all night," she answered, stepping out of her flimsy dress. "That lump in your pants goes here," she said, sticking a finger into the matted triangle of hair between her legs.
John took off his clothes with his back turned to her and discovered when he turned that at least the sight of his cock impressed her.
"Sonofabitch!" she said with wide eyes and dropped jaw. "That fuckin' pole is gonna put me outa commission for the rest of the night,"
"How much do you make in a night," John asked naively.
"Two bills-without sweat," she answered and went back to chewing on her gum.
That was more than he had ever made in a week, he thought to himself. The wheels began to spin in his head. Somewhere there was a chance for him to get in on this kind of action, but being a pimp wasn't What he had in mind.
The girl fell on the bed, spread her legs wide apart for him, while John stood there staring, making a point of observing as much as he could from this expensive lesson.
The sight of naked breasts gave a man a warm, throbbing feeling in the cock, he noted. And the emptiness between her legs drew the stuff right out of his balls. He had to move fast or the convulsions in his balls would put an end to the lesson without giving him his money's worth. A quick jab with the thick spear missed the target and Chicky grabbed the hot meat-almost triggering his explosion in her fist-and guided it into the warm, soft moistness of her body. One long stroke into the mushy tunnel was all it took to set off his cock and he came with a breathless urgency.
Ten minutes later-fifteen at the mostJohn was back on the concrete sidewalk. He had spent a dollar a minute for the lesson, it struck him, but it was worth every cent. An enlightened young man walked to the subway with a whole new concept of life. Plus a healthy respect for the opposite sex-which until now he had considered merely something that got in a man's way as he struggled to get rich.
For the next few months John concentrated all his energies on girls. He spent as much time as he could with the girls in the office, the girls in his neighborhood, and any female anywhere, who would talk to him, learning as much as possible about these creatures that possessed a secret that drove many men to destruction. Or in his case-fame. And every cent he could manage was spent on lessons with prostitutes, from whom he quickly discovered, there was much to learn.
Men can be led around by the cock, like a dog on a leash, he concluded.
Slippery, wet lips kissed sparks into his powerful rod. Something new! he discovered as the young girl breathed hot, tantalizing air on the head of his swollen cock. His eyes grew wide with amazement as her pouty-red lips and suck-hollowed cheeks closed in on the dripping eye of his prick. Then her elastic lips stretched over the puffing head, giving him mind-shattering sensations. The warm, wet insides of her mouth felt delicious and mouth-watering on his pulsing pole of flesh. But her tongue was more than he could bear, milking as it was on the sensitive shaft, sucking at it, drawing the cum from his balls into the depths of her throat. And he didn't overlook the effect of watching her face, with its longing glances and delighted expressions, suck in the syrup with great pleasure. For a while he thought this was all a man needed in the way of sex-a girl sucking his cock should satisfy him completely.
But there was always something new to explore; someplace else to ram that sensitive stick. And if the struggle was difficult, it made the experience more exciting, as he discovered when he tried to force the blunt, mushroom head of his prick into the little opening of a girl's ass. "Too tight," she tried to tell him, but he had to find out for himself. He had her kneel on all fours, then spread the balls of her ass apart "With the palms of his hands and poked his knob at the unwilling spot
"It hurts," the girl yelled, as he forced the spear in. "Ohhh, it hurts."
Her pain was even pleasant to hear, he discovered. The drive up her squeezing, resisting tunnel was a slow process, but watching her squirm and cry for help made him determined to get it all in, pushing his hard cock with more force, spreading her ass farther apart, until his meat was finally buried in the tight-fitting sleeve. And finally enjoying her throaty sobs as he squirted cum into her, pressing the soft flesh of her ass tight against his groin.
Once his education was underway, putting it to use came naturally. At the office he had already gotten the reputation of being a "cunt man," from his constant association with all the girls there. The bosses were already taking notice and the guys his own age were beginning to treat him with respect. They sensed that John had a secret way with women and wanted to share it with him. But the real test came when he decided to try for a position that seemed to be sewed up by one of the college boys. He invited the manager to lunch and after a few drinks, asked for the job and gave a signal to one of the prostitutes he had hired to make her entrance. The manager didn't have a chance to answer; they suddenly had a pretty blonde at the table and before he knew what happened, the three of them were in a hotel room and the blonde was draining the sap from the manager's cock.
John got the job! And shortly after that the company grew too small for him. He was mixing with top executives in a variety of companies an was sought after for every stag gathering in town. Money, prestige, and even power began to chase him. Every business he entered turned into a gold mine. Suddenly the girls were chasing him, giving their bodies freely now-just to be a part of his expensive life. The island became a necessary retreat, where his now-prominent clients could sneak off to satisfy their fantasies in guaranteed privacy.
A phone rang, bringing John out of his daydreaming trance. Someone answered it and a girl's voice announced that it was for Liz. John found himself frowning. There seemed to be growing excitement in the hall outside his study. Then Liz knocked softly on the door to the study, opening it a crack and peeking in.
"It's Georgia's brother," she said in a velvet-soft whisper. "He wants to take me out."
John just stared at her with a puzzled look on his face, as if he hadn't heard her right.
"Is it all right?" she asked bashfully.
"If that's what you want," John sighed. "I could use the change," Liz offered weakly.
"Then go ahead," John said, adding a faint smile to show that he wasn't angry.
Liz rushed back to the phone, no longer concealing her excitement. But it left John with a feeling of emptiness. Liz had been the pride of his harem, he thought to himself. Perhaps the one he would someday marry. He had certainly given her more personal attention than any other girl in the stable. Now he was turning her loose-to be gobbled up by another-but all he could feel was emptiness. Not sorrow.
Slowly John moved from the study, strolled aimlessly through the halls, looking for something to do. Something to hold his interest, he decided, as he opened doors and glanced into the various rooms. He stopped along the aimless walk to chat with his "students," grasping for something that would take his mind off the emptiness he felt in the pit of his stomach.
A pretty, black girl came bustling down the hall. Obviously she was thrilled about something that was going on, he thought, as he watched her rushing toward him. But when she caught sight of John she jolted to a more graceful, gliding stride.
"How's it going?" John asked the twenty-year-old girl, smiling warmly at her.
"Just fine, Mr. Aumontjuer," she answered in a sexy voice. "Elizabeth is so thrilled about her date that she's got all of us excited with her."
"So I see," John said with a grin. "How're your lessons going?"
"Great," the girl said, smiling as John stepped closer.
"Then let's have a little check," he said, slipping his hand under the hem of her brief, white dress.
John's experienced fingers went directly to the spot between her legs, through the curls of hair, and covered her unsuspecting cunt. A good test, he thought to himself, taking the girl by complete surprise like this. One minute she's rushing excitedly through the hall, thinking of some childish game, and the next minute she has to perform.
The palm of his hand slid over the warm cove between her legs, feeling for the telltale sign. The spot was dry and the hair all fluffy. Just as he hoped it would be. But then a hint of moisture as the girl's juices began to flow from the walls of her sex. In a few short seconds she had flushed with passion juice, scoring a high mark on the test.
"Not bad, Roni," John commented casually, "but I don't want to interrupt what you were doing."
"Oh, I wasn't doing anything important, Mr. Aumontjuer," Roni purred back at him. "Just sitting around with the girls talking about the guy Liz is going to date."
John slid his hand around to the firm balls of her ass, appreciating the smooth, firmness that met his fingers. A slow exploration of the crevice seemed appropriate. The girl wiggled coyly, but said nothing, seemingly grateful for the attention.
"Let's go into the study," John suggested dryly, leaving his finger lodged in the crack of her ass to feel the swaying movement of her flesh as she walked. The smooth cheeks rubbed pleasingly on his finger, while he supported one Of the globes in the palm of his hand. This girl is really solid, he decided. Nicely balanced ass too.
"Ooooowwww," the girl purred with delight when his finger poked into her anus. It encouraged him to force his way deeper into the tight passage and she smiled approvingly, walking now on toes.
Somehow the whole thing seemed aimless, John thought, as they entered the study. He really didn't have any desire for sex tonight But it seemed like the only thing to do a few minutes ago. Something to take his mind off-Georgia I He finally admitted the cause of that ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't stop thinking about Georgia.
"Take off the dress," John stated without emotion.
Roni slipped out of the white dress, letting it fall at her feet, while she stared with wide, expectant eyes and found herself breathing faster from the excitement of it. The ebony figure seemed to tingle with anticipation. Her firm, conical breasts heaved greatly, their protruding nipples quivering, as she watched John saunter over to the liquor cabinet for a drink. She found herself nodding when John asked if she'd like a little Scotch.
Just staring at this naked girl with such a beautiful figure was a pleasure, John thought to himself. The kind of pleasure a man might get from viewing a fine statue. And even though he handed her a drink, he did little else to put her at ease or suggest a more comfortable position. He let her stand in the middle of the room, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, while he devoured her body with his eyes.
"Let's see you turn slowly, Roni," he said, resting his buttocks on the edge of a table.
Roni obeyed, nervously turning in place for her teacher to see all that she had. And dying at the thought that he might not like something about her.
"How long has it been since you've had a man?" John asked when she completed the turn.
"Over a month," Roni gasped, a twitching sensation between her legs at the thought. Just the prospect of possibly filling that cavity with the cock of her teacher sent a fresh twitch through her cunt. She didn't touch the drink she was holding until John looked away. But then she emptied the glass in one quick swallow.
There was a moment of indecision while John considered what it was that he wanted. If anything. He was tempted to end the performance and send the girl back to her friends, but decided to take a moment to feel her shapely body before sending her away. He signaled for her to step closer, which she did quickly. Then he ran his hands from her shoulders down to her pear-shaped tits, feeling the shapes, weighing them in his hands, squeezing them gently. Still keeping one tit in a firm grip with his left hand, he ran his right hand down her flat stomach, combed his fingers through the tangled black patch of hair and slid his hand between her legs.
Roni released the deep breath she was holding and swayed from the building fury that was coming to a climax inside her.
Should she dare let herself go? she wondered. Come on his hand?
The thought was overpowering. Come! The word rang in her head. Come...come...COME! And she gushed with juices from her head to her cunt, squeezing her legs together to trap his hand, while she grabbed the hand squeezing her tit to prevent it from leaving.
"Let's see how you suck it," John announced. And Roni went weak in the knees.
Being required to kneel at this time was a stroke of luck, she told herself, as she opened John's pants and pulled them down to his ankles. Couldn't do anything else without fainting, she decided. Then her eyes fixed on the dangling pendulum.
"Oh, Mr. Aumontjuer," she sighed, wide-eyed and thrilled at what she saw.
John's long, fat, spear-headed muscle was firming up, but not hard enough to rise. He grinned at her child-like amazement. Too eager, he thought when she grabbed it and immediately sipped the knob into her mouth.
"Mmmmm...I love it...I love it," Roni cooed between sucks and licks. And the rising prong drove her into a wilder frenzy. She couldn't get enough of it. Wanted all of it in her mouth so she could swallow and have it slide all the way down her throat.
But for John, the urgency and the desire just wasn't there. Her thick lips swooping over his cock brought it to a standing position without stirring that necessary hunger in him to want satisfaction. Watching her tongue slither hungrily over his cock and balls had about the same effect as a warm bath, he decided. Yet the girl seemed to be going out of her mind with enjoyment, so he allowed her to continue. .
Roni hungrily devoured the salty male flesh that she wanted so badly, licking, sucking and chewing on it with growing urgency burning at the walls of her cunt. She tried to put out the fire between her legs by attacking the cock with her mouth, but the flames grew hotter. Then she ran her tongue over his wrinkled prunes and back to his ass-hole. There was a hint of encouragement from John when she touched it with her tongue, so she snaked into the opening in one deep plunge. Anything to make him happy. And when she withdrew her tongue from the heat of his body John grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back to the spot. In an attempt to please him, she reamed the opening with her twisting, darting tongue. She was determined to have the big poker nestled in her longing cunt and if tonguing his ass-hole was the way to get it.. .
"That's enough," John said. "Now bend over that chair."
Roni thought the time had come. She stumbled to the arm .of the chair, bent over to lift her ass high in the air, expecting the feel of his throbbing meat to burn into her drooling sex. But instead his fingers spread the cheeks of her ass apart and she suddenly felt his wet tongue lick at her buttonhole.
"Ooooowwwww," she screeched breathlessly, never expecting that. The next minute his blunt instrument was forcing its way into the small opening. The whole tiling came as a shock to her. It was boring up her insides, stinging, hurting, burning the walls of the tight channel. But she found herself bracing for the forceful plunge and actually pressing back on it for more.
The girl had managed to take John's mind off everything else, he realized. She simply enjoyed everything that was happening. The excitement was building in him from the realization that he couldn't discourage her. Pain didn't dampen her enthusiasm. Even when he pushed harder and faster, trying to make her cry with pain. But she met the rape of her ass-hole with a counterattack on his sword. Still he knew it hurt her-he could hear the muffled cries in her throat
For the moment John was satisfied with the penetration and the feeling his throbbing meat experienced in the tight walls of her ass-hole. Every muscle in that sleeve was squeezing his cock, trying to eject. But he wasn't satisfied. He needed something more exciting to set him off. And only the knowledge of the pain she was experiencing seemed to tantalize him. He pressed harder, withdrew a little, then drove it back, harder and deeper. Always listening for a cry, a sound of anguish. But the only sounds were deep in her throat. Harder and harder he pumped the piston into her ass, spreading her cheeks farther apart with his hands and watching his white meat drive in and out of her black body. Watching the small ring of her anus squeezing his cock began to build the necessary spark in his balls.
"Ooohhhhh...man...I can't take no more," Roni finally cried and John was immediately at the peak of excitement. One fast pull and his cock popped out of its prison, causing Roni to scream from the suddenness. Then, without pausing, John shoved the spear into her unsuspecting cunt, driving it all the way in with a powerful plunge.
"Oooohhhhh," Roni cried again in pain. Then her voice tapered off to more relaxed sound. "Mmmmmmm...oh, yeah."
John let his cock feel the warm, mushy walls of her insides; the yielding, sucking chamber that accepted his full length and width with a longing for more. Roni was already reaching a climax when John's first shot of cum splashed up the walls of her flaming cunt. She rode the stick harder, faster and more frantic now, spurred on by each blast from the spitting head.
"Ohhhhhh...oooowwww...mmmmmm-mmm," she moaned.
"Ahhhh...mmmmmm,"' John uttered his first sound of pleasure. "Mmmmmmm...mmmmm."
Roni watched over her shoulder as John withdrew his mighty muscle. She watched his face for a sign of approval, wanting desperately to have pleased him. He smiled-and it was as good as an orgasm to her.
CHAPTER TEN
Georgia didn't think about John and his island for the next two weeks. She was absorbed in her job, shopping and rearranging her Manhattan apartment. Her brother was completely absorbed in his romance with Liz and she didn't see or hear from him at all since the night she returned from the trip. But she did get news about Steve every time she called home; the word from her mother was that Steve was "serious" about some new girl. And Georgia didn't offer any information to clarify the identity of the new attraction.
Sex had taken on an entirely new image for her now. It was no longer necessary to search for a stud who could impress her with a unique experience. No more bouncing from one stud to another, hoping to find that new thrill that would satisfy her craving. No more searching for-whatever it was she was searching for, she admitted-a golden cock or something. She had discovered that John was right about prolonging the desire for sex and she was determined to hold off satisfying her cravings until the itch was unbearable. Then she exploded with mind-shattering gratification when she finally did open her legs. There was little chance of disappointment with this system, she noted, because the cock would be everything-the man attached to it was of little consequence.
Meanwhile, two weeks passed without having that empty feeling between her legs, and when she did find herself thinking about filling the gap, the memory of Steve's last plunge seemed to satisfy her. But going into the third week, her attention began to settle on the effect her new personality was having on others. She was getting the greatest pleasure out of the frustration she was imposing on her male acquaintances. A big tease, she finally labeled herself one night, as she was leading a good-looking young man at a cocktail party to believe he had it made. Then she rejected him at her front door.
"Cock teaser!" he snarled, when she gave him the bad news.
I guess you could say that, she thought, laughing to herself as he stood at the door, not knowing what to do about it. His pant leg bulged with the straining muscle that flexed to be free of its cramped quarters. They stared at one another; she refusing to open the door to her apartment and he refusing to leave.
"Since when does a girl have to put out on the first date?" she asked.
"Since she spent the whole night teasing his cock. That's since when," he answered.
She couldn't help feeling sorry for him, but she was determined to stick to her new system.
And he to his.
But Georgia just stared at him, wondering whatever attracted her to him in the first place. He was something-or-other in an advertising agency, she remembered, which explained his long hair and the clashing colors of his clothes. Handsome, she thought, but barely taller than she was.
Suddenly the twinkle in his eyes suggested she take a closer look and she was totally unprepared for the sight that met her eyes as she lowered them. There he stood in her hall, his big cock in his hand, milking it furiously!
"Sonofabitchofabastard!" she growled at him.
The shiny head of the smooth stick was already huffing and puffing. His fist working at a tempo that suggested the end was near and Georgia couldn't do anything but stare: she was speechless and frozen to the spot The first squirt of white cream just missed her skirt, landing in a splash on the wall next to her. Before the stick fired again, she jumped to the side to get away from his corrected aim. The throbbing meat spat up another wad of cum and then another, all in her direction but not hitting their target. When the piston was empty, the young man grabbed her by the arm and wiped the sticky head clean on her skirt, pushed her aside and stormed toward the elevator.
The incident burnt the image of his pulsing, spitting phallus on her mind and began to stimulate the craving for another satisfying seduction of her love nest. She was back to thinking about that satisfied feeling a cock gave her when it was stuffing her insides to capacity. It was going to be a test of her willpower, she decided, to hold out when her mind was so intent on capturing a male snake in her pit, but she would try.
Temptations began to chase her and she almost didn't make it through the following morning. Her boss sent her to pick up a manuscript from a writer who was staying at a hotel across town. A rugged-looking character, who met her in his bathrobe, fresh from the shower and horny as hell, she quickly discovered, when he practically tried to rape her. Only the urgency to meet a deadline with the manuscript saved her from cooperating with the rape.
When her boss gave her the afternoon off, she was even tempted to go back to the hotel to resume the assault that promised to be exciting. She was confident that brute would be victorious over her unyielding defense. But instead she returned to her apartment to have a leak in the bathroom fixed.
The superintendent sent one of his assistants up to make the repair. A young Irishman, right off the boat, with unwieldy, chestnut-colored hair, blue eyes, and a devilish grin. But oh, so clumsy, she thought, as she watched him go about the task of opening the pipes under the sink.
From the moment she opened the door, his eyes popped and his voice seemed to have abandoned ship. She was wearing a tight, white sweater and too tight jeans-just some old things she'd thrown on for the occasion-but it was obviously more than his hungry eyes could bear. His green uniform hugged the muscular build with little room to spare, and a sudden surge of excitement had his right leg struggling with his cock for possession of the pant leg. It was amusing to Georgia to see him struggle with the problem, practically walking sideways and with a slight limp as he tried to hide it from her.
Cock teaser, she kept reminding herself, but remained in the bathroom doorway, watching him work and knowing her presence was driving him insane. She leaned against the door frame, with her arms stretched back, causing her breasts to swell up even bigger in the tight sweater.
"Please, Miss..." he gulped when she began getting in his way.
"Am I bothering you?" she asked with big innocent eyes.
"Oh, no," he sighed, changing his mind again.
"Is there any problem?" she asked, continuing to act innocent.
"Not at all...not at all." Perspiration stained his shirt under the arms and down the backbone now.
When he got up from under the sink to get a wrench, Georgia was standing in his way.
"Got a problem?" she cooed, running her index finger gently over the bulge in his pants.
"Ya might say that," he groaned bashfully.
"Let's have a look," Georgia offered, opening his belt and then the front of his pants, while he stood before her helplessly. "Looks like you have a leaky pipe, too," she said, wiping a droplet from the eye.
She had the strangest feeling this big hunk of man was going to faint. He just stood there staring into space with a glazed look on his eyes and breathing in short, uneven gasps. The soft stroke of her hand down his puffing cock brought more cream oozing from the eye. A gentle squeeze made the fat meat tremble with urgency. But he never made a move toward her or away from her. He just remained frozen to the spot. Without moving his head from its straight-ahead position, however, he lowered his eyes, not believing what he saw. Her sensuous lips were getting closer and closer to the pulsing, heart-shaped head of his throbbing cock. She could hear him gulp when her warm lips touched the tip and sipped away the oozing cream.
For a moment she thought he stopped breathing. Nothing moved but the throbbing, vein-popping, male pipe. It wasn't difficult to imagine the feeling this towering missile would stir in her cunt, she thought, feeling a sudden flush of girl-juice release and dampen her jeans. A twat-splitting spike, she decided with great envy, then sipped at the giant straw to remove another drop of cream.
It wasn't that Jimmy Ryan didn't know what to do or how to do it-it was fear of losing his job and getting thrown in jail that prevented him from doing it. He couldn't imagine a beautiful, young girl like this just seducing him if she didn't have some trick up her sleeve. Something he'd regret later. So he remained motionless: arms limp from the overpowering urgency that pulsed in his cock, still holding a wrench in one hand, desperately trying to stop the pounding sensation in his balls. But seeing her lips on his prick made it impossible to contain the pumping motion that could only mean an explosion was near. There was no stopping the climax, which would put an end to the enjoyment of it all. Even now the jerking, pumping sensations in his cock and balls were killing the delicious feeling of her lips on his tender sensitive skin.
Georgia didn't try to hide the enjoyment she was getting from his awkward behavior. She made a point of smiling up at his popping eyes as she stretched her full, red lips over the ballooning head of his ultra sensitive probe. Made it perfectly clear that she fully enjoyed the taste and smell of it too. Sucked it and milked it with her tongue, until it started to heave. Then she swallowed hard as he came in her mouth, licking it and going back for more, until she drained every last drop from him.
"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, straightening up and licking her lips.
"No, it wasn't," he sighed.
She did an about-face and walked out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there dumbfounded. But she felt proud of herself for resisting the real urge that longed to place that spear between her legs and sink its full length into the ready-made wound.
'Tve plugged up the leak," he announced on the way to the door. "I hope you'll call me again. I mean, if you need me...that is, if anything needs pluggin'. "
As the door closed Georgia couldn't help laughing out loud at the bashful repairman's awkwardness. But it was soon replaced by a more serious thought-John Aumontjuer. Why hadn't he called? she wondered. She tried to push the thought from her mind, but it refused to leave. She couldn't stop wondering if he would ever call again, or if he'd been offended by her constant nagging about his sex activities on the island.
By Thursday of that week, Georgia was depressed about everything: John, the way she behaved during her weekend with him-obviously the reason he didn't bother calling anymore-and the hopeless situation of not being able to make amends; and too, her loneliness in general. There didn't seem to be anything that interested her anymore.
But she was snapped out of the low spirits by the sound of the doorbell. She rushed to answer it, wondering who it could be at four in the afternoon. Not that it mattered. She'd be happy to see anyone at this point.
"Daddy!" she screeched at the sight of her handsome, immaculately dressed father standing in the hall.
"Hello, Georgia. Just thought I'd stop by to see you," he said. "I have a dinner engagement at seven, and thought I'd just spend some time with you."
"Come in," Georgia said happily. "I was just getting the blues for want of a friendly face-and bingo! the greatest of them all shows up." With that she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss and hug.
It was the first time her father had ever visited her apartment and she flitted around the place, trying to make him comfortable. She only wished now that she hadn't changed from the cute outfit she had worn to the office that day. At least not to the faded old jeans and too tight sweater. Not with such a distinguished guest, she thought to herself.
They had a drink and chatted about Steve and his new girl friend. Georgia was on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her, while her father sat at the other end in a much less relaxed fashion. But then she never did remember him sitting in anything but a proper fashion. Or for that matter, doing anything that wasn't proper.
Over the second drink they talked about the family in general, what was happening at home and the latest word from Georgia's mother, who was on another vacation, in the Bahamas this time.
"I guess you must get pretty lonesome too," Georgia said as she poured another drink for them. "What with Mother away so much."
"You'll never know how lonesome I've been all these years," he answered sadly.
It seemed appropriate, after placing his Scotch and water on the coffee table, to give her father a kiss. Something to let him know she understood.
Charles P. Kingston didn't know how to relax-how to let himself go. He just sat stiffly in his corner of the couch and allowed his daughter to kiss him. But inside he was tormented by his inability to express his own love for her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her so badly. But he did nothing. The thoughts that had plagued him for weeks-how he wanted her body again-weighed heavily on his conscience. His guilt feelings kept him from responding now, when it would have been so very natural. He realized in these last few weeks, that the mistresses he had had over the years meant nothing. Just objects that were purchased. But he couldn't buy his daughter.
After she kissed her father, Georgia hugged him, pressing her cheek against his.
It was a little awkward, kneeling on the couch and trying to keep her balance while she gave him the affectionate hug. She had no idea what her father was thinking or how much he wanted what she had given him before. And his stiff, always proper "mannerism," made it impossible to imagine that sex was the object of his visit.
In a gesture to show Georgia that he appreciated her understanding, he awkwardly reached his arm around her for a little return squeeze. His hand fell on the bare skin of her lower back, where her sweater rode up and jeans slid down, exposing an area just above the rise of her buttocks. The touch of her skin sent a flash of fire through his head. But once committed, he left his hand there for the embrace. As Georgia moved back, sitting on her legs again, his hand stayed on the soft skin, slipping down a little to where her rump began to rise.
Georgia was hardly aware of his hand, giving it very little attention at this point. Cheering him up seemed to be the only thing that was important.
"Let's just get drunk and to hell with your dinner engagement," Georgia offered.
"Sounds like a damn good idea." He laughed, knowing inside he couldn't-or wouldn't do it, but wishing he could.
Georgia leaned over for her drink and her father's hand slid down a little farther. His fingers were just touching the point where the mounds of ass flesh began to swell and separate, the base of her spine, where one finger touched the sensitive skin of the crack. She was suddenly aware of his hand. But not sure what it meant. She pretended not to notice when she sat back on her legs. When her father didn't make a move to take his hand away, she realized that he knew what was happening. It occurred to her that he must be going through hell, sitting there, not knowing what he should do, and trying to make it all seem accidental
"Mmmmmm..." she cooed, bending toward him again, "but we've got each other to chase away the loneliness."
This time as she kissed him she reached behind and pushed his hand onto the full meat of her ass-inside the jeans. She could feel him tense up, but he didn't try to pull his hand away. Then he patted the fleshy balls, as he might have done when she was three years old. Still playing innocent, she told herself, opening her mouth on his to intensify his longing.
A tremendous battle raged in the father's head. On the one side he wanted to-on the other he felt that he shouldn't. Just an innocent pat on the ass, he rationalized for his present actions. Then his hand stopped patting. The feel of her smooth, firm, round ass raced through his mind. He couldn't resist the urge to trace his finger down the crack, or touch the little opening, or-just poke his finger in a little. He was breathing faster and getting dizzy from her open mouth over his lips. Her smell. Her taste, as their tongues met. Her feel!
When Georgia moved back, her jeans were down over her buttocks in the back, digging into the flesh just above her golden triangle of hair in the front. She hoped her father would take some of the initiative-do something, anything to show his intentions. But instead he reached for his glass and drained it.
The first joint of his middle finger was lodged in Georgia's rectum and she patiently sat on it until he finished his drink. She knew she'd either have to open the front of her jeans-to stop the pain they were creating as they bit into her tender flesh-or put an end to his fun. She didn't have the heart to do the latter, so she opened the brass button and slid the zipper down. The pants slid over her hips from the weight of her father's arm and her fluffy pubic hair popped out.
"Oh, Georgia.. . " her father sighed as his eyes caught sight of golden fleece. The rest of his sentence was muffled on the fur above her treasure cove, but she thought it sounded like "I love you."
Georgia could feel his lips pressing into the patch of hair and feel him breathing into the spot above her clit. He was taking deep breaths of air through his nose, obviously delirious with the fragrance he found there. Her position and the confinement of the jeans tangled around her legs prevented her from opening up to give him access to the source of the sweet smelling honey. All she could do was sit there patting his head, waiting for him to finish.
It seemed like hours before he lifted his head and moved out of his cramped position. He sat back and looked at the area between her legs for a moment, without any apparent thought of what he would do next.
"If you want it, Daddy, take it," Georgia said, standing and stripping off her clothes.
"It's not right," he said softly. His eyes growing wider at the sight of her tits popping out from under the sweater as she began to pull it over her head. He wouldn't allow himself to move, but he didn't take his gluttonous eyes off her nude body.
"I'm asking you to fuck me, Daddy," she said when the last of her clothes were off. "And you know you want to."
"We mustn't," he groaned, staring at the tantalizing figure of his daughter standing before him, her hands on her hips: the object of his desires teasingly offered to him.
"Then at least kiss it for me," she responded, pulling him into a prone position on the couch. "I mean really kiss it." And she climbed onto the couch with him, straddling his face.
Georgia thought she heard him start to object, but she lowered her cunt to his mouth to drown out the sound. His hands found her ass without coaxing and he massaged the globes of meat with vigorous squeezes. He even returned his finger to her buttonhole, corkscrewing it all the way in. His mouth, after some hesitation, opened on her slit, sending a chill through her body at the first touch of his wet tongue.
The smell of her juices and the taste of her cunt drove him wild. He drove his tongue deeper into the cherished honey jar while his fingers twisted and squirmed in her rear tunnel. He could feel her reaching a climax-taste it too-and decided he deserved the fulfillment of his forbidden dream.
"Ohhhh, Daddy," Georgia screeched, squeezing his head as hard as possible with her legs.
"Ohhhhh, Daddy. I love it...I love you...mmmmmm."
He waited patiently for her to ride out the full fury of her orgasm, helping with a constant swirling of his tongue up her cunt. But when she was through and lifted herself off his face, he got up and took off his clothes.
"Mmmmmmm," Georgia gurgled at the sight of his stiff cock.
He watched his beautiful daughter move from the couch to the rug in the middle of the room, while he removed his clothes and carefully placed them on a chair. When he walked over to her she spread her legs, lifting her knees almost to her chin, completely exposing her ass and cunt for his eyes to devour, which they did with relish.
"You're a hungry little bitch," he said with a grin.
"Daddy's little girl," she cooed back at him.
He knelt and placed his cock at the door to her mushy cunt. She gasped and closed her eyes, already building up another storm in that cunt of hers. He couldn't help but stare at her in amazement. His little kitten was a tiger, he realized. A starved tiger.
"Don't move it, Daddy," she cried with urgency. "Hold it...right...there! Ohhhh...Daddy."
She'd had an orgasm on the tip of his cock, he suddenly realized. The thought stirred him even more than the sight of her yielding, panting body. He buried the aching cock in the depths of her and lowered himself, his mouth going from one tit to the other, licking, sucking, biting, while Georgia wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper into her hungry slit. The jerking sensation in his balls was already beyond the point of holding back his eruption. All he could do was suck her ripe tit-flesh into his mouth and pump his cum into her cunt.
After weeks of thinking about this moment, planning for it, and tearing himself apart with worry and guilt, the whole thing was over in a minute. But Georgia stretched out her own pleasure longer, bumping and squeezing and grinding on his stiff cock. The stick was hers for all it was worth and she got every last ounce of pleasure from it before releasing her grip on the heaving meat.
"You must think I'm terrible," he started to plead as they separated.
"Don't be silly. I think you're the greatest."
"I feel so ashamed...doing this to you," he said, trying to free his conscience of the pain he would suffer now for weeks.
"You mean what I did to you. Stop blaming yourself for making your daughter the happiest girl in the world."
"I can't help hating myself," he said, rolling off her now, but pulling her close to him for an affectionate hug.
"I don't know why you should feel so bad," she said, trying to comfort him.
"I just can't help thinking what your brother would think if he ever found out-"
"Now that's the silliest--"
"He'd hate me-and you too. And God only knows how it would affect him."
"I'll tell you how," she whispered in his ear. "He'd slap you on the back and be proud of you."
"How can you say a thing like that, Georgia?" he asked, taken by surprise at her attitude.
"It's easy, Daddy. Little Stevie has already sampled his sister's cookie."
"What?" he asked in disbelief.
"Steve has also found his sister's charms to be tantalizing. And he proved his love the only way a man can-by giving the girl his meat."
"I never thought-that is, I didn't know."
"Just stop worrying, Daddy," she sighed in his ear.
Then she traced a path down his chest with the tips of her fingers, settling on the limp noodle between his legs. It was sticky from the combination of their juices and she slid her tongue down his chest to his meat and licked it clean, arousing the log from its sleep.
Once again his mind exploded with the sight of her beautiful body. He watched her pretty face move around his aching cock, saw her tantalizing lips wrap around the sensitive shaft and felt her suck new life into him. It was as though all his fears and worries drained from his body in that instant his cock fired.
"Mmmmmmm..." he sighed. "You're too beautiful, Georgia."
"You're just prejudiced," she said, licking his cum from her lips.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Hello," Georgia mumbled into the phone, still not fully awake.
"Georgia?" Steve asked, not sure the voice was his sister's.
"Who'd you expect?" Georgia answered through a yawn. "What time is it anyway?"
"Ten-thirty," Steve said apologetically. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I couldn't wait to tell you the good news."
"I bet I know what it is. It's Sunday morning and you've got a hard-on," she offered, sitting up in bed to shake the grog-giness from her head.
"There's nothing new about that," Steve laughed, then continued in an excited voice. "Liz invited me to spend the weekend up at John's island."
"Thanks. You sound thrilled to death," Steve said with disappointment in his voice over Georgia's attitude. "You're going, aren't you?"
"I haven't been invited," Georgia answered sarcastically.
"You're kidding. John's been calling you for weeks. Liz even told me he was going out of his mind because you hadn't returned his calls...but that was over a week ago. I figured you must have spoken to him since then."
"I haven't gotten any calls-" Georgia said, objecting, thinking Steve was just making an excuse for John.
"Well, shit!" Steve interrupted. "Have you called home to see if there were any messages?"
"Well-no-"
"Sonofabitch! That explains it. John only has this number and they probably just told him you weren't home."
"Great," Georgia sighed. "Now what?"
"Call him," Steve snapped back. "Tell him you just got the messages."
"Liz says he's going out of his mind, eh?"
"Don't start that playing-hard-to-get shit," Steve said, trying to sound angry, but still too excited over his own good news. "Call him, Georgia. And then call me back, okay?"
"Okay," she sighed with an air of reluctance. But inside she was jumping with excitement herself.
She had to have a cup of coffee before making the call to John. Had to get her thoughts straight too, she decided. And for some reason suddenly there were butterflies fluttering in her stomach, which she couldn't explain-or didn't want to. But she finally made the call, waited-patiently for the girl who answered the phone to get John. It seemed like a long, nerve-wracking pause. Then John's voice came through the receiver.
"Hello, Georgia?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes. I just got your messages."
"It's good to hear your voice," John said, making it unnecessary even to continue the explanation. His happiness came through loud and clear. "When you didn't call-and were 'never home'-well, I thought you just didn't want to see me again."
"I've been staying in the city and never thought of calling the house," Georgia said. "I took it for granted someone would pass on my apartment number to anyone who was trying to reach me."
"That's not important now. When can I see you?"
"Well-"
"You've got to say you'll come up to the island next week," John said in an almost pleading voice. "Your brother is even going to be there. Well have a great time together."
"I guess I'll have to go then," Georgia answered, trying to sound casual, but secretly holding her breath from the excitement churning inside her. Everything seemed to be going so perfectly, that she was afraid of saying the wrong thing. But she didn't. She found herself agreeing to have dinner with John Monday night, and there was a show Wednesday he had tickets for, which he insisted would go to waste if she didn't go with him.
For the first time in years, Georgia found herself bubbling over with enthusiasm. like a schoolgirl going to her first prom, she realized, when the butterflies in her stomach didn't just disappear. What a great feeling it was, she thought to herself, having something to look forward to, having someone exciting to see, and having time slip by so quickly it was breathtaking.
The dates were enjoyable-as all her meetings with John had been. However, she had led herself to believe that their relationship would be different now. John was obviously-admittedly-infatuated with her. She therefore reasoned that his approach would change; that he had wrapped himself, willingly, around her little finger, and now her wish should certainly be his command. But it wasn't! John was more attentive, more charming, and far more open about his feelings toward her. Still, at the end of the evening he saw her home, kissed her passionately at the door to her apartment and left Left her standing there dizzy with anxiety and desire. He refused her invitations even to come in for a drink. He must have known that she wanted him, she told herself. Desperately wanted him, in fact Because all she thought about was his big cock and how it would feel in that longing cove, and she didn't hide her feelings during the time they were together.
Georgia also discovered that she was spending more and more time thinking about the island. Her thoughts about the place had mellowed, she found, and she was actually intrigued by the prospect of returning. The events of her last visit were no longer unpleasant. There was a growing desire to be once again in the midst of all that raw sex. To be able to glance around and see naked girls fucking in every manner and fashion, and watching the enjoyment they were experiencing by the changing expressions of their faces. She wondered if there would be another death-defying act in the swimming pool, or another ritual in the game room.
From the moment Steve picked her up at the apartment for the drive out to the harbor, Georgia felt a difference in the atmosphere. It was as though she had arrived at the start of a big party. Steve's enthusiasm and excitement were contagious. It made a world of difference in the flight up to the island too; there were no doubts, regrets or misplaced jealousies this time. Even Liz appeared excited about the trip she had made so many times before. She and Steve carried on like two lovesick kids.
Georgia soon discovered a whole new form of entertainment in just watching her brother's face, which his excitement reflected as incredulous, wide eyes took in the scene when they entered the house. All the sophistication he had learned as a result of being a spoiled, rich-kid, his cosmopolitan air, all disappeared and he looked like a little boy finding himself alone in a big candy store. He didn't know where to look first. His eyes danced wildly over the pretty girls in togas, almost drooling at the mouth when they started flashing bare asses in his direction. It seemed as though the girls were just as thrilled with Steve's presence. It took a nudge from Liz to bring him back to earth.
After a brief chat in the entrance hall, Georgia and Steve were led to their rooms. This time Liz took them to Steve's room and just advised Georgia that she had the same room as the last time, which was next to Steve's, with a joining door. Taking the cue, Georgia left the pair and went to her room-into the arms of the twins.
"We missed you," they said, greeting her, kissing and hugging Georgia as though it was Christmas.
"I missed you too," Georgia sang back at them. "And I've got a present for you-and a surprise."
"Where, where?" they shouted excitedly.
It had been a difficult task finding a gift for these youngsters. Somehow she couldn't see them getting thrilled over stuffed animals or toys of any kind. The twins weren't just ordinary kids. She finally chose matching gold rings with a small diamond in the center. Adrian was immediately thrilled, but Alexander had to try it on first to see how it looked. Then he walked over to the wall mirror and studied himself, flashing the ring to an imaginary audience. Only after he was pleased with the new touch the ring added to his appearance did he rush back to Georgia to give her a big kiss.
As soon as she was confident that the twins were pleased with their gifts, she began to undress. There wasn't any assistance this time, because the children were still admiring the effect the glittering rings had on their appearance. When they did turn their attention back to her, she was slipping into a terry cloth robe, resigned to the fact that they were too engrossed in their new image to help with a bath.
"You kids are too much," Georgia said with a laugh, just as the door opened and Steve peeked into the room.
"Now for the surprise I told you I had," Georgia said. "I want you to meet my brother."
"Hi," Steve said with a wave of his hand to the staring children. All he was wearing was a towel wrapped around his waist and he wasn't sure if he should enter in the presence of the kids.
"Aren't they adorable?" Georgia chirped. "This is Adrian and this is Alexander."
"Are you twins?" Alexander asked Steven.
"No, we're not," Steve answered. "Georgia is my older sister."
Alexander walked briskly over to shake hands with Steve, using it as an opportunity to see how the ring would look. He was also pleased with Steve's admiring glance at the diamond. Then Adrian joined her brother and gave Steve a kiss.
"Is it okay to come in?" Steve asked, half turning to go back for his robe.
"Sure, come in," Georgia said.
"This place is too much," Steve said, bubbling over with excitement.
"I thought you and Liz would be indisposed," Georgia said with a questioning look.
"No such luck. She told me we'd have to be very discreet while we're up here. John keeps her pretty strict, she says. But I'll be entertained by the other girls, which Liz says is all right as long as it's just to relieve my sex urge. No kissing though."
"Mmmmmmm...sounds interesting," Georgia responded. "I guess I'd better take my shower and start getting ready for cocktails," Georgia sighed, "but you can stay and talk to me if you like."
Alexander followed Georgia into the bathroom and despite Georgia's insistence that she wanted to be alone, he refused to leave. His job was to soap her down and he wasn't going to take "no" for an answer.
Steve stepped into the bathroom with Adrian sitting on his arm, hugging and kissing him affectionately. They watched Georgia shower and dry. Then Steve left the Georgia and the twins and went back to his own room.
The next thing he knew, he was focusing his attention on a pretty blonde. She was about twenty, he figured.
"Hi," she said, smiling at him. "I'm Susan."
"Hi, I'm Steve."
"I know all about you," she said, cutting him short. "I'm here to see that you enjoy your stay."
Steve stared wide-eyed at her as she crossed the room to the bed, slipping out of the toga and seeming to float toward him. His eyes devoured her naked, fully developed body.
"The first thing we have to take care of," she sighed, climbing onto the bed with him, "is that burning sensation between your legs."
"Who sent you here?" Steve gulped, not believing his eyes and ears.
"Mr. Aumontjuer suggested you should have someone to keep you amused," she said in a low, sexy voice. "And Liz chose me for the job."
"Liz!" Steve gasped.
"Of course. She doesn't want you to be lonesome, and it gets terribly cold up here at night." As she spoke, Susan carefully straddled Steve's legs, took his stiff cock in one hand and guided it into the triangle of hair between her legs. "So she felt you might need some body heat to keep you warm. After all, Liz is in love with you."
Steve couldn't do or say anything. He just gulped in amazement as the girl knelt over him and brushed the head of his cock through the soft, fluffy hairs of her sex. Then she placed the tip of it at the lips of her cunt and slowly impaled herself on his stiff spear. He watched her close her eyes as his cock entered the hot, moist cavity, lowering herself gently onto his pulsing, flexing muscle. She would have taken his juices just sitting there rocking back and forth, but he reached up and gently pulled her down to his chest. Their open mouths met and his hands slid over her back, her twitching buttocks and into the crack of her ass.
"Come, baby," she whispered in his ear. "Come in me, Steve, give it to me."
And Steve gave it to her. Instantly. He blew his cum in one uncontrollable blast. Not that he didn't Want to hold off for a while to enjoy the feel of her body, but when she said "come" he couldn't stop it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
For Steve, the weekend was one seduction after another. Everywhere they went, girls were pawing at him for the opportunity to play with his stick. And Liz encouraged the girls, as well as Steve, to have a go at it Saturday morning, after breakfast, he had the opportunity of trying the trick in the pool. But un-like Mr. Jenkins, Steve was hot in the balls from the time the game was suggested. By the time the girl went down on his cock and the two others pressed her underwater, he was on the brink of exploding. The whole idea was too sensational for him and he blasted his cum into the girl's mouth so soon after her dive that she didn't lose a drop of it and came to the surface with air to spare.
The real enjoyment for Georgia was watching her brother experience the surprises that met them at every turn. His excitement and delight were also entertaining to John and Liz. Soon the three of them were calling Steve's attention to all the unusual scenes that were going on-things that they had taken for granted, but were enjoying again through Steve's excitement.
"I wish I was twenty-two again," John said with a sigh of regret. "Ahh, to have the stamina and strength to perform like a young stud."
"You'll have us thinking you're over the hill," Steve joked.
"As you get older, the events are fewer, but you make them last longer," John said with a laugh at his philosophical speech. "Instead of three quick shots, you have one long one."
"How long?" Georgia asked enthusiastically.
"Well, some of the old men up here last so long they forget to pull the ripcord-and you know how depressing that can be."
The jovial atmosphere didn't prevent Steve from getting another erection though. Liz suggested they take him to see the gym. At first glance, the room looked rather ordinary. It had the usual paraphernalia of a good-size gymnasium, and people were scattered around the room, using the various pieces of exercising equipment. But here and there-as Steve had expected-couples were engaged in various forms of sexual exercise. The floor mats along the walls seemed to be the most active areas for the sex games. There was a group on the parallel bars that caught Steve's attention. A male guest was stretched out on the bars doing pushups while his cock was stabbing the cunt of a pretty girl who was stretched out below him, while yet another girl stood precariously over him, bent at the waist, with her mouth buried in the crack of his ass.
But after Steve's eyes took in the obvious, he noticed a group of girls in the far corner of the room pulling on ropes that were attached to large wicker baskets. Closer examination revealed that the baskets were being raised and lowered onto men lying below them on the mats.
"I thought you'd like the basket-balling game," Liz teased him.
"What is it?" Georgia asked, before Steve could raise the same question.
"There's a hole cut in the bottom of the basket," John said, taking over with the explanation. "A girl is placed in the basket, sitting with her derriere sticking out the hole. The gentlemen rests comfortably on the mat and the other girls raise and lower the basket."
Liz was already pulling Steve in that direction, so John decided to let them see for themselves how it worked. They watched with amazement as Liz stripped Steve's pants off and forced him into position under one of the baskets. Then she stepped out of the way and signaled the girls holding the ropes to lower away.
"I like this one best," Liz whispered to Georgia. "It's sort of impersonal, since he can't see the girl, and I don't feel so jealous that way."
"If you two are serious, why do you encourage him to ball with other girls?" Georgia whispered back.
Liz shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "To get it out of his system, I guess."
At this point a young man came over and applied a lubricant to the girl's ass, while one of the girls did the same to Steve's standing spear. She caressed and stroked the tumescent, male muscle with a show of approval and desire, lingering longer than they thought was necessary. But Georgia also noted the male working overzealously at his chore too, greasing the girl's tunnel with sensuous, twisting probes of his finger. His toga stood out straight in front from the erection the "chore" had given him.
Finally the basket was lowered and Steve had to aim his lance at the small target between the protruding globes of flesh. They could see his blunt head enter the buttonhole and watched it disappear into the depths of her body. Then the girls gently raised and lowered the basket on the piston, pumping it in and out of the tight sleeve.
Steve folded his arms under his head and grinned up at them as the balls of flesh slid up and down his cock. But the grin soon disappeared as the urgent need to spend his sperm became acute. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no control over the depth or length of each penetration. He grabbed at the basket, but couldn't get a grip on it. At this point he desperately wanted a long, deep penetration into the hot tunnel, to bury it there and spend his cum. But the girls kept raising the basket, causing a postponement of his discharge until he had that feeling of total penetration.
In desperation, he began lifting his ass off the mat, in an attempt to keep his cock in the depths of the tunnel but the girls lifted the basket even higher. He began to arch his back, lifting himself higher and higher to gain on the evasive sleeve and release the explosion that had his mind in a frenzy. It was all a waste, he kept telling himself, if he didn't come with a deep, lasting penetration. Just as he feared there was no hope of holding it back any longer, the basket was lowered all the way down and he came with satisfaction as the full weight rested on him. He had just what he wanted-the burning flesh completely pressed into his groin.
That nagging, unbearable desire for a male tenderloin of her own was uppermost in
Georgia's mind again. Only the fact that she knew Liz was suffering from the same frustration, kept Georgia from seducing the nearest man. She realized what Liz must be going through, watching the very cock she wanted most being wasted on a faceless form-wasted in the crack of a bodiless ass.
There was a ray of hope when John suggested they all return to their rooms to freshen up before dinner. A chance to secure her brother's services, she thought as they parted. The long walk she and Steve made back to their rooms was an agonizing delay from her overexcited body. She followed him anxiously into his room.
"You've gotta fuck me, Steve. You've just gotta," she blurted out
"Aw, come on, Georgia. I've been fuckin' all night and all morning," he responded and collapsed on the bed.
"Steve, you can't let me down now," she pleaded.
"If I had an ounce of sap left rd give it to you. But Fm so damn exhausted-and sore too-that I just can't do it."
Georgia stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The twins jumped to their feet with frightened looks on their faces as she swept through her own bedroom to the bathroom. Then she suddenly turned and faced them; her fists pressed into her hips and a mad expression on her face. "Get Mr. Aumontjuer," she said through clenched teeth. "Tell him I want to see him right away."
The children stumbled over each other in their haste to do as she ordered. She was suddenly much taller, in their eyes, then before. Fierce and dangerous looking too. They ran to fetch John without wasting a second on the way.
Georgia didn't realize how frightening she looked, or that the children would be asked to give a reason for her urgent command. But when John entered the room, she suddenly realized that he looked upset and nervous and she couldn't understand why.
"Close the door," she said, walking to the lounge and suddenly finding herself nervous too. The twins were behind John, peeking into the room as he closed the door on their curious stares.
"What's wrong, Georgia?" John asked nervously.
"I'll tell you what's wrong! Either you stop playing games with me-" she gulped, almost in tears, "-or-or send me a stud! I can't take this." She broke down and cried.
"Oh, Georgia," John said, sitting beside her on the lounge and coaxing her into his arms. "I thought something terrible had happened, or that you were sick."
"Well...?" she sobbed.
John buried her face against his chest and hugged her tight. "Do you think if s been easy for me?" he whispered. "I've been going out of my mind too. And I don't have anyone to blame but myself."
Georgia couldn't bring herself to look at him now. She was ashamed of the way she had gone about all this. But she felt her clothes being opened and there was an instant of hesitation when she instinctively tightened up to hamper him. Only an instant though. Even she had to laugh at herself for that move.
Once on the bed, she brushed away the tears and watched John strip. Their eyes met and she grinned at him. He smiled warmly back and continued to undress.
"You must think I'm terrible," she said between sniffles.
"That's where you're wrong," John replied, standing next to the bed with his big, fat prick jutting out at her. "When I met you, you said you were bored with sex. I wanted you then. But not while you were bored. Now.. . "
He climbed on top of her, his open mouth covering hers and their tongues began fighting for possession of her mouth. He carefully spread her legs apart with his and brought his spear to the junction of her legs.
Georgia felt the hot, thick meat press against her legs, poke at her yielding slit, then slide up toward her stomach. John was sucking the breath from her, his hands squeezing the ache from her breasts, and she was going weak all over. There was a trace of fear, too, as she felt the thickness and length of his big cock pressing against her stomach. Maybe it was too big, she thought-as every crazy thought began to possess her mind.
The juices oozed when the giant mushroom head returned to the entrance of her longing cunt. Then it parted the lips and began moving into the heat of her body. She quickly lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist to ease the strain of the tight fit. But she felt the walls of her cunt stretch around the smooth, blunt shaft and it felt so good that she began to float into a soft, mushy, dream-like trance. His mouth never moved from hers and his hands milked constantly at her throbbing tits. Deeper and deeper he drove his spike, until she felt it "pressing at her brain."
There wasn't enough room inside her cunt to allow for the expanding muscle to throb, she thought. Each throb was like an orgasm. And the tempo of the orgasm was getting quicker and quicker. She wanted to scream, but his tongue was deep in her throat Her body twitched uncontrollably now. Her nails dug into his back and her heels pressed him deeper into her body. So deep it hurt-but it hurt so good, she decided. All her orgasms were building into one, gigantic climax, and it was going to coincide with his final thrust and the major throb of the shaft of meat which was lodged in her body.
John took his mouth from hers, each gasping in the other's ear for air. He slid one hand from her breast down to her ass and held tight, forcing her ass up as he drove his body down, deeper and harder. Then his cannon exploded and Georgia went wild. Their bodies bounced and churned in a frantic release of the damned-up juices. The ache of desire was quenched, but the thrill was imprinted on their brains. John kissed and sucked at Georgia's tits, while she remained motionless with the complete satisfaction he had pumped into her body. His warm mouth at this point only made the whole experience seem more delicious, warm and mushy.
"Mmmmmmmm...John...it was worth waiting for."
But her lover wasn't finished with the pleasures he wanted to give her. His mouth slid down her stomach, between her legs and covered the cave his big cock had just vacated. His talented tongue whipped into the slit, sweeping and swirling the combination of their juices around her insides.
"Ooohhhh...John!" Georgia cried with delight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Monday afternoon turned into a big frustration for Charles P. Kingston. His wife had returned from her trip and kept calling him to see if he had heard from Georgia and Steve. When he explained that he hadn't, she complained each time that he was neglecting the children. Then at two o'clock he received a collect call from Puerto Rico. It was Steve calling to inform his father that he was about to get married. There was a pause as Steve waited for his father to explode with rage and criticism. Actually his father had to search for something to say. The news hardly disturbed the elder Kingston at all, even when Steve asked him to wire money. But by the time Steve put Liz on the phone, his father was over the initial shock and welcomed her to the family with all his blessings, which suddenly seemed to be the thing to say, though he had never met the girl.
Within the same hour he received a call from Las Vegas and was completely shaken by his daughter's announcement that she too had eloped. He felt as though his whole world had suddenly crumbled around him. John Aumontjuer's voice infuriated him, but he covered his hatred and wished them happiness. His conscience wouldn't let him do otherwise, for fear his real motives would be exposed.
Georgia got back on the phone and talked to her father for a while, surprised to hear that Steve had also decided to get married at the very same time. She could detect the despair in his voice and knew the reason for it
"Now, Daddy, I don't want you to feel upset or depressed by what's happened. John and I are going to spend a week here in Las Vegas and then fly to Hawaii for two weeks. But as soon as we get back, I want you to plan on spending the next weekend with us at John's house up in the Thousand Islands. I promise you'll have a fantastic time there. It straightened out your son and daughter and I just know it will help you immensely."
When Georgia put the receiver down, she looked up into the surprised but grinning face of her new husband.
"Georgia," John said, shaking his head in disbelief, "you absolutely fracture me. In one breath you tell me I have to sell the island and do away with all my interests in sex education and in the next breath you invite your father to spend a weekend at my 'terrible island.'"
"Well," Georgia smiled sheepishly, "It will take a little time to dismiss everyone and make arrangements for the sale, so my father might as well enjoy a weekend there."
"You're too much, Georgia."
"Yes, but one thing still puzzles me."
"Please, Georgia, no more questions. We're supposed to be on our honeymoon, and I want you."
"First answer just one last question," she said firmly, but allowing him to pull her back onto the bed. "All those wealthy, important, powerful people that you invited-and the young, struggling actors and actresses-wasn't there a terrible risk of someone possibly blackmailing the guests?"
"Not really," John said, pulling off her robe and bringing her naked body down on top of his. "In my vault I have enough evidence on each and every person on the island to make their lives miserable. That was the only thing necessary to insure closed mouths. Plus the fact that if any of the young people got too ambitious they knew they'd never get work again-anywhere!"
John's hand slid down Georgia's smooth back, down to her firm ass and he pressed, making his stiff cock force its way between her tightly closed legs. She was teasing him, he realized.
"Holding out already I" he said under his breath.
"And do you have something in your vault on me?" she asked coyly.
"You promised you wouldn't ask any more questions," John said as his hands pulled her ass-cheeks apart in an attempt to get her to open her legs.
"But I want to know if you have something in your vault on me. I have to know before we can go any further," she said, giggling as he tried unsuccessfully to force her legs open. "I want to know if you took pictures of me while I was your guest"
"Don't be silly," he answered, trying to capture her mouth with his to put an end to all the talk.
"Then answer my question," she insisted, lifting her head away from his and squeezing her legs tighter, capturing his throbbing cock in a vise-like grip so he couldn't move it.
"No! I didn't have to get any evidence-certainly not pictures-on you," he said with a sigh of defeat "Or Steve, either. You both come from a wealthy, prominent family. If, for some crazy reason, either of you did want to blackmail anyone, I would have dealt with the matter when it happened."
Georgia grinned at him, hesitated a moment as she considered teasing him further, but decided against it. In one quick move she slid back to his cock and gave him a tantalizing smile as she kissed the pulsing knob. A tight-lipped kiss. Then her tongue danced down and around the thick meat-teasing him with its delightful sensations, while her wide eyes sparkled with devilish delight, daring him to make a move as she tantalized his longing cock with her teasing mouth.
John grabbed her by the hair, quickly wrestled her over on her back and got between her legs. Then he placed his huge spear at the entrance to her cunt.
"Cunt teasing I don't mind," he said between clenched teeth, "but I won't stand for cock teasing."
Georgia felt the blunt head force its way into her burning cunt. The full length and width of it sweeping into the depths of her body made her suddenly very willing to accept his terms.
